Work Text:
The Girl With The Watercolors
Anxiety was becoming an issue today, Tracey had noticed. His heart rate was up, his thoughts came and went rapidly, and his focus was fleeting. Perhaps he’d had too much coffee, but as he reached for his mug and discovered it nearing empty, he remembered exactly why it was that way. Sleep had been an issue the last few nights - anxiety again. It wasn’t a trouble Tracey usually had, but he had been worried about a friend lately. Not just any friend, but Gary, the professor’s grandson who, over the years, had become something of a younger brother to him.
It wasn’t the usual worry he felt on occasion when the teenage researcher went quiet while out in the field somewhere - Tracey felt that worry over all of his friends when they were traveling.
This was different. For starters, Gary wasn’t far afield. He was in Johto and headed back to Pallet, taking his preferred long way by foot along the trainer paths. This would normally relieve Tracey’s worry, but this time Gary’s homecoming was the fuel for his anxiety.
- i’m heading home for a bit -
Tracey had already known that, the professor had told him earlier that afternoon.
- there’s something i didn’t tell Grandpa -
- don’t worry, i’m ok -
- i've just been dealing with some stuff and need a break -
That meant something had happened and, while Gary was physically well enough to make the trek home, he was shaken enough to need a few days home before heading on his next adventure. This wasn’t just a quick pop-in for a recharge sort of visit.
But fretting over his friend’s return wouldn't do any good.
Tracey huffed out a sigh and titled his head from side to side, stretching his neck. He rolled his shoulders and took a deep cleansing breath. It was the end of the day and time to unwind. Gary would be home in a few days and he would talk when he was ready, just like he always did. Tracey rolled his shoulders again and the tension began to dissipate.
Finally he pulled his sketchbook to him, flipped to the next blank page, and reached for his cell phone. He needed a distraction today and knew just the thing. A few taps later and he had the subject for his next piece.
The eeveelution that resonates most with you in its preferred habitat.
Tracey deflated slightly, reminded again of his friend, but he pushed it away and opened his desk drawer. This was his nightly art challenge and he needed to pick his subject to choose the medium for tonight’s piece. It was between leafeon and vaporeon - his markers had beautiful blues but his sets of pencils had some fantastic greens, and he had just gotten that new set…
Leafeon it was.
Tracey pulled out three thin tins and set about picking the colors for a forest setting. The prompt came from an artist that Tracey followed online: they posted a daily prompt and artists around the world posted their fills for the prompt. It was a community that Tracey enjoyed being a part of.
As he drew, he wondered what Gary was up to. It was the prompt that had him on Tracey’s mind this time. Gary had said he expected to be near Tohjo Falls today. He wondered if he’d made it there already or if he’d ended up traveling slower than anticipated. Eventually Tracey set down his pencil for the final time and reached for his phone. He snapped a picture, tagged it, and waited for it to upload as he appraised his work.
It was very green. Perhaps too green, but his line work was fantastic and he’d struck a nice balance with browns and grays in the background. It wasn’t bad. He’d had better but that was the whole point of this: to practice and experiment.
A small chime from his phone indicated that the photo had posted - Pallet’s signal tended to be on the slow side. His feed refreshed and he scrolled down absently. Most of his feed was either photos or art of pokemon with a few personal posts from friends and family interspersed throughout. He settled back in his desk chair with a smile, pausing to comment here or there - on an excited post of Misty’s about the trip she was leaving for today (three weeks in Alola with Ash and Pikachu), a series of photos from his older brother about his day working on a dive charter in the Orange Islands (beautiful skies and a passing pod of lapras were today’s highlights), his mother’s photo of the pie she had made that morning (keylime, made with fresh limes from the garden)...
Before he could start to feel too homesick, he came across a painting of an umbreon on a hilltop. The background was a beautiful night sky, complete with stars and a crescent moon atop a background of deep purple and blue fading into black.
It was an artist he had been following for some time now. She was a traveling trainer who painted with an impressively tiny watercolor kit in the field. She sometimes posted little video clips of her painting landscapes out in the field with the only sounds being that of her paintbrush and the wind and pokemon around her. They were in the same community, completing the same daily challenges and conversing in comments. He didn’t even know her name, but she was something of a friend. He admired the painting one more time, tapped the like button, left a comment, and continued to scroll.
A few posts down was another umbreon - this time a photo of a very familiar umbreon wading in a stream, the recognizable image of the Tohjo Falls rising up in the background. Gary was making good time.
Good. Gary was back in Kanto and that relieved most of the remaining anxiety.
Satisfied, Tracey clicked the like button, closed out the app and opened his text messages. He didn’t know if Gary even had signal, but he took the chance anyway.
- made it to Tohjo I see -
The reply came a moment later.
- camping a few miles east -
Tracey sank down on his bed with a smile as he typed out a response. It was a short conversation but with every reply from Gary came a little more relief. His friend was okay, it seemed, but tired and eager to be home.
… … …
The next afternoon came without incident and that evening found Tracey at his desk, sketchbook open before him as he considered his various art materials.
A place you feel at home.
The prompt had Tracey debating between the blues and greens again. Pallet might as well be home and its rolling hills and peaceful fields would be a wonderful use of those greens, but some part of him itched for those cool blues of the waters of the Orange Islands. Maybe it had something to do with his conversation with Gary and sensing the homesickness his friend was apparently feeling, though would never admit to.
He reached for the plastic box of markers and plucked out the blues with a smile, but only a few minutes later that smile had turned to a faint frown. He frequently sketched the ocean views from memory but today’s result, while pretty, just wasn’t doing it for him. Letting the ink blend and spread across the page just felt too easy - he enjoyed the challenge of creating depth and conveying different colors in his work.
There was a way to make it better, Tracey just wasn’t sure of it. Rather than growing frustrated, he took a break and reached for his phone, scrolling for inspiration.
There were plenty of pictures and art pieces, but none jumped out at him, until he came across a mixed media piece. He paused, examining the piece - watercolor and ink seemed to be the media. There was a vast field of flowers, yellows and whites, just like the meadows of southern Kanto, with green hills and forests in the background. Visible just beyond the treeline of the background was a windmill, and in the foreground was a small river.
A small smile curved Tracey’s lips as he took his time examining the work further. It reminded him a bit of Pallet and the longer he looked, the more details he noticed. Peeking out of a little corner of hillside was a small white building with a red roof, surrounded by tiny ponyta and tauros. In one of the fields was a little group of nidoran, just barely visible in the flowers. There were pidgeys and their evolutions in the sky, and the serpentine form of a gyarados was just barely visible in the river.
It really reminded him of Pallet.
Curious, he glanced down at the username and saw that it was the same artist who had painted the umbreon the night before. It was a little different for her: she didn’t use ink very often, but it looked nice. The line work was clear and crisp, even on the little details, and the use of color was lively and lifelike. He clicked the like button and left his thoughts for her to read.
Using the other artist’s work as inspiration, Tracey reached for the cup he kept his pens in. After a moment of two of thought, he chose a pen and set about inking the outline of rocks and coral along what would now be the ocean floor. It was still very blue, but if he added in some cooler colors, it would look sort of like a night dive. Soon a dark reef came alive with the silhouettes of fish and marine pokemon. Finally pleased with that, he turned his attention towards the horizon. Struck by a brief moment of inspiration, Tracey pulled a different pen out of the cup - a white gel pen that he had used maybe twice before. He added in stars and a moon before sitting back once more and analyzing his work.
It was certainly better than before but was still lacking. It didn’t give him the feeling of home that he was hoping for. He swapped out the white pen for a dark one and added the silhouette of a boat against the dark sky and a lapras far in the distance, using the gel pen to add highlights here or there. Finally, he felt pleased enough with his work to post it.
As soon as the piece was posted, Tracey began scrolling through his feed, looking to see what his friends and family were up to today. There were photos of his mother's garden (it had gotten even bigger and more lush since he last visited) and tons of pictures of Ash and Misty in Alola (with plenty of bickering and teasing between them in the captions and comments).
A notification came through, interrupting his scrolling to let him know that someone had commented on his work. He couldn’t help but grin - it was probably his mother or brother and talking to them was always welcome. But when he clicked on the post and opened the comments, he saw it was neither.
It was the girl who did the watercolors. She liked his use of the white gel pen and the darker, cooler tones of the markers. It was different for him and she acknowledged his stepping out of his comfort zone. They had spoken in comments many times before and, just as had happened several times before, he found himself struck by an odd sense of familiarity. Something about talking to her felt like talking to a close friend. She reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t quite place it.
He replied and then went back to scrolling, seeking out one thing in particular before logging off for the night. He found it a few moments later - a shot through the branches of an old and gnarled tree, with the sunlight filtering through the leaves and leaving a brilliant lens flare. The sight of it brought a smile to his face; Gary had an eye for photography and these shots were always his favorites to take. Tracey recognized the tree as well - it was near the start of a trail that started south of the Indigo Plateau and snaked through the forests towards Pallet Town. Whenever he saw it while running errands for the professor, he knew he was near Pallet.
Gary would be home sometime tomorrow, without a doubt.
Satisfied, he closed the app and switched over to his text messages. A brief conversation with Gary later and Tracey was ready to wind down for the night. His friend would be back home in the morning and he would be able to find out what had been going on with him.
… … …
Sure enough, Gary made it home late the next morning. He came around the back of the lab and surprised Tracey while he was working with some of the grass type pokemon near one of the ponds, just as he always did. Despite the startle his friend gave him, Tracey couldn’t help but greet him with a grin and a tight hug. Gary typically wasn’t the hugging sort, but Tracey was one of the few people he accepted them from. But this time he not only accepted it but returned it just as tightly. That was unusual, but maybe Gary was getting more comfortable with affection.
The anxiety Tracey had been feeling over the course of several days faded as he stepped back from his friend. Gary looked well: a bit pale and tired, but nothing alarming. There weren’t any new scars or injuries that Tracey could see, although…
“The nail polish is new,” he observed mildly. Plain black with surprisingly few chips for the week of hiking he had just done. It fit right in with the longer hair Gary had been sporting these days. It was different, but harmless so Tracey only smiled when Gary shrugged his shoulders in response.
That night found Tracey in his bedroom, his sketchbook open before him, supplies at the ready as he set about his nightly routine. It was a bit later than usual - they’d all had dinner with Delia and had spent hours catching up with Gary, but they’d all had their last cup of tea for the evening and Gary, tired from his journey, had headed upstairs to rest. Now it was time for his nightly art session.
He hadn’t drawn anywhere near as much as usual today between working in the lab, catching up with Gary, and then dinner. There had been time, but in his spare moments, he found himself watching and thinking about his friend. Something was off with Gary, but Tracey couldn’t quite pin it down. He was quieter than usual, a little less enthusiastic in sharing stories from this latest adventure. He’s said he needed a break and that was likely what Tracey was picking up on, but something felt different.
Determined not to worry over his friend more than was strictly necessary, Tracey pulled up the app on his phone and scrolled until he found the night’s prompt.
The pokemon you are most embarrassed to admit to wanting.
Tracey chuckled, shaking his head amusedly at the prompt. He scrolled through the tag, curious as to what others had chosen. There were some interesting choices: incineroar, a number of pink fairy types, jynx, gothita, the final form of sprigatito.
People could be so weird with these things.
This was going to be a hard one to pick - he wasn’t embarrassed by any pokemon that he wanted. Any pokemon he would want would have a reason behind it, so why be embarrassed if it was cute or pink or weird or whatever else made people pick the ones they had picked.
Pichu, he decided. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed about wanting that pokemon: it was more that Tracey didn’t want anyone to think he was trying to copy Ash. A bit too tired to do a big piece after the long day and big dinner, Tracey opted to stick with his specialty and reached for his pencil.
He took his time with the sketch, adding in a forest background and going back to smooth out lines and add more details until he was pleased with the outcome. A few finishing touches and he was done. Tracey snapped a photo of it, tagged it, and posted it. He waited patiently for it to load and for his feed to refresh, though he could feel his eyes growing tired. He really needed to get to bed, but he wanted to check out what some of the other artists he followed had done for the prompt, so he began scrolling through his feed, keeping an eye out for posts from his friends and family.
There were pictures from a few artists he liked but Tracey had to scroll far down to find the girl with the watercolors. Hers was a simpler piece than what she usually posted and Tracey nearly scrolled past it before he happened to notice the screen name. There was no detailed background this time around, just a few splashes of color behind the pink and cream colored pokemon she had picked.
It was a skitty.
Tracey paused, surprised. He couldn’t help but wonder why a girl would be embarrassed about wanting a skitty. They had good stats and could learn plenty of powerful attacks - and they were adorable. What was there to be embarrassed about? There had to be a reason, he figured - there wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about wanting a pichu but Tracey had his reason for choosing it for his drawing. Either way, it was a nice painting, even if it wasn't quite her usual standard.
He hit the like button and continued scrolling to check in with his family – he was eager to hear about the new reef his brother was supposed to have checked out today and he was curious to see what Ash and Misty had gotten up to today. Fortunately, he didn’t have to scroll far to come across a series of photos from his brother: a calm sea with a beautiful sunrise, a pod of lapras in the morning sunlight, a school of mantine swimming over a colorful field of corals, the silhouette of a sharpedo near the edge of a deep drop-off. A twinge of homesickness twisted in his chest as he smiled at the photos. He would have to visit soon.
He left a comment, his usual excited rambling about the pokemon that his brother knew to expect from him, and moved on to look for Misty and Ash’s shenanigans before he called it a night. But before he could scroll much further down, his phone rang. Tracey grinned at the name on the screen – his brother. It was late and he was tired and ready for bed, but he loved his family and would gladly stay up another hour to talk. He would just have to catch up with Ash and Misty’s shenanigans tomorrow.
… … …
Tracey would have regretted staying up so late if it wasn’t for how much better he felt after talking to his brother for a bit. It soothed some of the homesickness he had been feeling and, as a result, some of the anxiety that had been building dissipated as well. Tired or not, it would be a good day.
The work in the lab went quickly and easily, especially with Gary lending a hand come the afternoon. Dinner was earlier and quieter than the night before, leaving Tracey with plenty of time for some leisurely drawing. He spent some time filling a page in his sketchbook with warm-up sketches before picking up his colored pencils and starting on a more serious practice sketch. Colored shading was the skill today, and so he picked a pokemon with plenty of color and texture to draw: arcanine.
It was as he was starting to wrap up that a knock sounded at his door.
“It’s open!” he called, keeping his eyes on the paper as he continued to make short, quick lines with a yellow pencil to add highlights in the fur.
He glanced up when the door opened and Gary entered the room. Gary held his own sketchbook, something that brought a grin to Tracey's face - he loved when Gary shared the drawings he did out in the field. The shared hobby and Gary’s frequent seeking of advice was one of Tracey’s favorite parts of their relationship. He adored his friend the same exasperated way an older brother would adore a younger sibling, but there was something special in being a mentor. Especially to someone like Gary, who was fiercely independent and didn't often seek advice from anyone.
“Hey,” Tracey greeted. “I’m working on one of your favorites.”
He pushed out the low stool that sat beneath the desk with his foot in a quiet invitation. The desk had long since been pulled away from the wall so that Tracey could sit against the wall and face the window. It took up more space but the inspiration that the view of the window provided was well worth it. Plus it provided a spot for Gary to sit so they could draw together.
Gary took the invitation, with his own quiet greeting – quieter than normal, Tracey noted with a glance his way. He finished up the picture, set down his pencil, and turned his sketchbook for Gary to see.
“It looks good,” he said quietly. His smile was small and didn’t reach his eyes. It seemed that the response was largely forced.
Tracey wasn’t quite sure what to think of that. He pulled his sketchbook back towards him as he glanced Gary over. He knew Gary had said he needed a break but this wasn’t his usual behavior, even when he was tired.
“I’ve been working on shading with colors,” he explained. He hoped that maybe by talking about a shared hobby, Gary might loosen up a little bit and act more like himself.
But Gary only gave a small nod, not at all meeting Tracey’s eyes.
He was hesitating tonight, and that was especially unusual. His eyes were focused on the desk between them as he seemed to be considering what to say. Finally he took a deep breath and set his sketchbook down on the desk and wordlessly pushed it towards Tracey.
That was concerning. "What's wrong?" Tracey asked, focusing far too much on his friend to reach for the book.
“You’ll see,” Gary said quietly.
That didn’t help at all. Tracey reached for the sketchbook and pulled it towards him, flipping the cover open and turning to the first page.
The first thing he noticed was that Gary had started using a different type of sketchbook - the paper was heavier and had a bit of a texture to it. He realized why only a few pages in.
"You're doing watercolor now!"
Gary gave him a smile that was definitely more than a little forced. "Yeah," he confirmed quietly.
This level of unease was unusual, to say the least. Gary was good at drawing and he knew it - there wasn't a reason to be self-conscious in showing a close friend his sketchbook. To see Gary brimming with anxiety sent up about a dozen red flags, but Tracey continued as though his stomach wasn't churning with worry.
Tracey forced his own smile as he returned his gaze to the sketchbook in front of him. "These look great," he said, unable to keep the excitement from slipping through despite his concern for his friend.
The compliment wasn't forced - it seemed as though Gary had stumbled onto another hidden talent recently. It wasn’t the first time and Tracey doubted it would be the last.
As Tracey turned through the pages, he was struck by how detailed his friend's work was. But then he came across a painting of a stream that gave him such a sense of deja vu that he had to pause. He couldn’t imagine how he could possibly have seen it before - Gary’s social media (minimal as it was) was dedicated largely to photos of his pokemon and from his travels, he never shared his art online. At least not where Tracey would have seen it, and Gary was more open with Tracey than he was anyone else. He would have seen it.
Still, something about the work he saw felt familiar, as though he had seen it before.
Tracey paused at a page with a watercolor painting - an umbreon on a hilltop with a crescent moon in the background. His breath caught in his throat as recognition lit within him. The girl online. He reached for his phone, opened the app and scrolled for the photo from the other night, pausing when he found it.
It was definitely the same painting.
“You’re the girl with the watercolors,” he realized softly.
Gary gave a single nod, not looking up from the desk.
So that's what was bothering his friend…
Setting the phone down, Tracey immediately stood and walked to the otherside of the table, quickly wrapping his arms around his friend in a tight hug. He heard the sharp intake of breath and only tightened his hold.
"I guess that explains the nail polish, huh?" Tracey asked
Gary gave a small laugh, the sound shakier than usual, and nodded.
"And I guess the hair isn't just because of the music you like, huh?"
"Not entirely, no.” Gary's voice was definitely shakier than usual, tremulous in a way that Tracey had only heard a few times in the past.
Tracey only tightened his hug. “Is that why you needed a break?”
“Yeah…”
Tracey had no idea how it must feel to be in Gary’s place, but he imagined he would need a break too, were he in the same situation. It couldn’t be easy and, with the way some people could be, it was probably more than a little scary. But, girl or boy, it didn’t matter to Tracey. He just wanted his friend to be happy and healthy.
“You've always been like a little brother to me, you know that. And if I really have a little sister instead…” Tracey gave Gary a smile. “Well, I’m happy with that too.”
Gary wiped away the tears that had formed, but couldn't hold back a tiny smile. “Thanks, Tracey.”
“Anytime,” Tracey replied easily, meaning it entirely. He returned to his seat and flipped through the last few pages of the sketchbook, pausing last night's prompt. “I was wondering why a girl would be embarrassed about wanting a skitty,” he mused. “But I guess, if everyone thinks she's a boy…”
Gary nodded and a wave of sympathy washed over Tracey. How many difficulties in life did his friend need? Was it not enough for life to take Gary’s parents at a young age, to apply the pressure of expectations just for the family name, to deal with traumatic pokemon attacks, and now this…
Society treated girls so differently from boys and Tracey had seen plenty of examples of that just traveling with Ash and Misty. To be seen by society - not just the people around you, but every single person you encountered - as someone entirely different from who you really were must have been painful in a way that Tracey couldn’t even imagine.
But before he could say anything, Gary pulled the sketchbook from Tracey and flipped it around, shooting Tracey a smile. “So, what's the drawing prompt today?”
A moment of vulnerability and then immediate redirection. Tracey smiled at the predictability. They would come back to this soon enough – their little drawing sessions whenever Gary was home was always a space where either of them could talk about anything and the other would always listen. It was always a safe space.
Tracey pulled his sketchbook to him and reached for his phone. It took a moment for the app to load, courtesy of Pallet’s poor signal. He and Gary met eyes over the desk and shared an unimpressed look before both laughing. It was a struggle they were both so familiar with that all they could do was laugh, because complaining wouldn’t make the signal any better.
“I swear I got better signal out by Tohjo,” Gary said.
“It’s better than it used to be,” Tracey reasoned. The app loaded and he searched for the page with the daily art prompts. He couldn’t help but smile as he scrolled – he’d always enjoyed drawing with Gary but knowing that his friend was doing the same prompts as him everyday made him genuinely happy. And they had been seeing each other’s work and talking to each other about it all along!
It was exciting, in a way.
He paused his scrolling and read the prompt aloud.
“Your favorite starter pokemon from your current region.”
Tracey groaned as he dropped his phone on the desktop with a loud clatter and a frown. He worked with the Kanto starters everyday - how could he possibly pick a favorite? Gary laughed at his torment and turned to the next blank page to start the base sketch of a squirtle. Tracey didn’t even need to look at his friend's sketchbook to know what was being drawn.
"Have fun picking one," Gary snickered, smirking.
"Oh, shut it," Tracey retorted, though he was smiling.
If Gary was drawing squirtle then he would have to pick something else. He had just drawn a grass type the other day, but he had more of a soft spot for bulbasaur than he did for charmander. Even so, he adored the fire types when they were young. They were curious and smart, though sometimes mischievous. They were always the ones to wander off or get into trouble. They reminded him of some of his closest friends - including the one seated across from him.
Which brought him to a new thought…
"What should I call you now?"
Gary sighed. "Nothing different."
But the melancholy that came with that reply was palpable enough that Tracey had to set his pencil down.
"No," he said firmly, shaking his head.
"Tracey -"
"No," he repeated. There was no way he was going to pretend that this afternoon hadn't happened, not when it left his friend so miserable. "I can do that around other people, fine… but do you hear yourself? I can tell that's not what you want."
Gary stayed quiet until Tracey realized that he wasn’t going to be getting a response to that any time soon.
"I'm just gonna start calling you Gabby if you're going to be stubborn." Gary grimaced at the name, pulling a gentle laugh from Tracey. "If you have any better ideas, I'm all ears," he teased lightly.
Gary sighed again. "I don't want to think about it right now."
“Okay, Gabby.”
This time it pulled a tiny laugh from his friend and Tracey took that as a win.
Tracey picked up his pencil and nudged Gary’s closer to his friend. "C'mon, Gabs."
“I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”
“Don’t be like that,” Tracey admonished gently. “Everything's gonna work out in the end, you just wait." He would do everything in his power to make sure it did. He owed his friend that.
“I hope so…” Gary picked up the pencil once more and set about continuing the outline of a squirtle’s shell.
Before long the pencil outline was done and Gary left the room briefly, returning a moment later with a small, thin tin that Tracey recognized from online. He smiled at the sight of it and watched his friend pull out a tiny bottle of water and a paintbrush from the tin before setting about filling in the colors. Tracey traded his own sketching pencil out for another colored pencil and the two focused quietly on their own work. Tracey occasionally glanced over at Gary, watching, quietly mesmerized by the way the color spread so easily and smoothly across the page.
The paintbrush was set down and Gary waited for the paint to dry, watching as Tracey continued his coloring. Once it was dry, Gary picked up a pen and started tracing over the line work with precise movements that left Tracey rather impressed. He’d always heard that watercolors were difficult to work with, but Gary made it look easy.
“That’s really good, y’know,” Tracey spoke up quietly, setting his pencil down for the last time. It felt like no time had passed but the alarm clock across the room showed that they had been quietly focusing on their work for well over an hour.
Gary’s lips twitched into a tiny smile. “You tell me that online everyday.”
Tracey returned the smile as he pulled out his phone to snap a photo of the charmander, complete with a background of flames. “That’s because it’s true.” He posted it as usual and saw Gary do the same across from him.
Now that the art was done, a quiet fell between them, not quite awkward or uncomfortable, but odd. Tracey had no idea how to break it. There were a dozen questions he wanted to ask and a dozen more things he wanted to say, but the words were getting jumbled in his mind. The longer the quiet stretched on, the more annoyed with himself Tracey became.
Nothing he wanted to say was difficult: I support you, I’m here for you, I want to help you… but the words just wouldn’t come because, even though Gary had confided in him, he could still see a deep pain in his friend’s eyes. All he wanted to do was make it right, to take away that pain. But he couldn’t, and until Gary confided in other people, all he could do was offer quiet support, and the knowledge that he couldn’t do much right now hurt.
It was Gary that broke the silence. “I should probably go to bed now.”
It wasn’t very late and it was definitely hours earlier than usual, but Tracey wasn’t about to argue. “You’ve been traveling a lot lately,” he acknowledged. “You probably need the sleep.”
Gary nodded and began to gather up the supplies, packing them away in their little metal case before standing and pushing the stool back under the desk.
Unsure of what else to say, Tracey tried for a comforting smile. “I’m glad you told me,” he settled for.
Gary paused in the doorway on the way out, looking back at Tracey pensively. Tracey had a feeling he knew what was coming. “Please don't tell my grandfather.”
“I won’t,” Tracey promised. He hesitated a moment. He knew one thing he wanted to say but worried about overstepping. He especially didn’t want to add pressure onto something that was very clearly weighing on his friend, but… “You should still tell him sometime.”
The professor would undoubtedly be supportive, but he understood why Gary would be less than enthused about telling him.
“Trace…”
“I’m not going to pressure you, but he loves you and he worries about you. I think he’d be your biggest supporter.”
“Not yet… but I will,” Gary promised.
That would have to be good enough for now, Tracey figured. He couldn’t rush his friend, not with something like this, but he would be there for support whenever the professor did find out.
He smiled in return. “You know I've got your back, right?”
“Why do you think I told you first?”
Tracey’s smile grew into a grin. “That means a lot to me,” he replied honestly.
Gary returned the smile before turning back to the door. “G'night, Trace.”
“Good night, Gabs.” It had been meant as a joke, but seeing Gary's smile made it worth it.
… … …
Gary headed out on a sunny morning a little over a week later, energy seemingly renewed and smile a little less forced. Each day had been a little more comfortable and each drawing session had been filled with quiet conversations with Tracey learning a little more about where she was at in this particular journey. The nickname Gabs drew a brighter smile every time it was uttered and so Tracey had started using it every time they were alone. He couldn’t wait until he could say it in front of other people.
The night that Gary left found Tracey in the middle of his normal nightly routine after posting his art piece for the day. He had already checked in with his family and some of his friends – Ash and Misty were still having a blast in Alola, his family was doing well, and everything was good.
But there was one post he hadn’t seen yet: Gary’s. He refreshed the feed and started scrolling again.
Tracey almost scrolled past her post and only didn’t because he recognized her screen name. The profile picture he had been so used to looking for had changed. What had once been a photo of a sunset over some pretty bay in Hoenn had been replaced with the squirtle drawing from the day of their conversation. He smiled at the sight of it. It really was a good drawing, and Gary had gone back and added touches of watercolor and ink to really bring it to life.
Tonight’s picture was a detailed one - one that Tracey knew couldn’t have been easy to do. There was a lot of crisp linework and precise strokes with the paint brush that Tracey was impressed with. He could never get watercolors to work for him, but Gary had figured something out and the result was a stunning picture of a Galarian rapidash mid-attack. It was perfect for today’s prompt: your favorite regional variant .
It put Tracey’s hasty sketch of an Alolan raichu to shame. That was likely an exaggeration on his part but Tracey hadn’t known what to pick and it had been a busy day in the lab today. His work wasn’t bad by any means, he just hadn’t had the energy to fuss with colors – unlike his friend, clearly.
He meant to click on today’s prompt fill but accidentally hit the profile picture instead and was brought to her profile. He started to scroll down to the picture he had meant to click on but paused when something caught his eye. The profile picture wasn’t the other thing that changed. The screen name hadn’t changed, but the bio had a name where there hadn’t been one before.
Gabs 🌙
A broad grin split Tracey’s face at the sight. The vague bits of information in bio were the same: Kanto, traveling trainer, field biologist and…
Actually, something had changed. At the end of the bio was a flag: pale blue, pink, and white.
It wasn’t the only change.
There were three pinned pieces at the top of the profile: the same squirtle that was the profile picture, the painting of Umbreon, and the landscape that had reminded Tracey so much of Pallet. Tracey’s grin softened into a gentler smile. She was making it her own… and the name! He had said it as a joke, meant to get a smile from her, but she was using it. It was just on a social media profile where no one, save for Tracey, knew who she was. Maybe the nickname would stick, maybe it would change, but Tracey couldn’t help but feel touched.
He scrolled down to the painting from today, clicked the like button, and opened the comment window like he did every time. He paused, thinking of how to convey just how impressed he was with the work while also acknowledging the name without being weird.
After several moments of typing a word or two, only to immediately delete it, Tracey took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to relax. This was the same friend that had been a younger sibling to him for years. There wasn’t anything weird to this. He took another breath and started typing again.
Awesome job, Gabs!
The words flowed easily as he praised his friend’s work the same way he had always done before knowing that this girl online was actually Gary.
It was a rather small step, but an important one. She would get more comfortable with herself in time and he couldn’t wait until she was ready to openly be her true self.
… … …