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When Red talks about Blue, he talks about the manic energy of her words. The way she weaves a web of lies, end over end, until one can’t tell where the mask stops and the truth begins. He talks about her smile, stretched wide from ear to ear. The kleptomania in her very bones, as she cons him out of house and home. The way she twists situations to her advantage, always laughing as she leaves.
That’s the thing about Blue, Green learns. She leaves, and then she disappears. It’s almost always by chance that she pops back into their lives. Like ephemeral flowers, waiting for their chance to shine, but always taking the easy way out of something as terrifying and hopeful and real as friendship, and commitment, and family.
Where Red sees the faces she pastes on like a change of clothes, this is what Green knows about her: that she doesn’t always smile, and that it’s when she’s not smiling that she’s being her most honest. That she had a brother, once. That she’s terrified of birds. That her obsession with cute things has nothing to do with appearances and everything to do with how scared she is that evolution will only lead to sorrow for those who are unprepared for it.
She doesn’t like talking about it. Can’t, until much later. Won’t, until after all is said and done, and her own demons are put to rest.
It’s not an accidental thing, that Blue swallows down her secrets like bile, and rarely lets those dark, crystal eyes of hers shine bright with (real) tears. Not a mistake, that she plays different roles at the drop of a hat, and lets the wind take her where it may.
Blue finds that it’s easier to think of herself as someone else, when she’s with Red. That the things that happened to her when she was still a kid happened to some other little girl. That that’s that other little girl’s brother, and that other little girl’s nightmare, and that other little girl’s truths.
Red doesn’t get it, at first. And Green, who always pushes her to be who she really is, almost does. Neither of them understand why it’s not just easy, but better, that she leaves the past buried.
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(It takes the boys mere months, after they meet her, to feel some of her pain:
Because trauma does not heal clean, and some wounds aren’t worth stitching back together.)
⭑⁕⭑
Blue’s having one of her quiet days, today. Her mischief isn’t as loud, her cackles not as violent. She’d rather have one where she’s angry, instead of bitter. Mean, instead of melancholy. Vicious, instead of tired.
Blasty makes a small noise underneath her, his snout bubbling oxygen beneath the surface of the water. She pats his head, and murmurs a quiet, “I’m fine.” Her blastoise doesn’t believe her, of course. How could he, when she never is on these days?
Nevertheless, he understands that Blue needs the silence. Maybe to sort her thoughts out, or maybe to empty them, entirely. Maybe because, here, she has the luxury of open space, without actually being too far away from other people.
Maybe because Silver remembers more than she’d wanted him to. Maybe because the Masked Man was still hunting them, even now. Maybe because she doesn’t really know what to do with herself, now that it’s all over.
She watches the way hues of reds and oranges fade into the horizon. The way drops of dew slide off lush leaves to land into the pond with a soft plip . The way Blasty floats around the perimeter of the pond with easy, graceful strokes of his strong limbs.
It feels like a final peace.
A small, blooming lily catches her eye. She waits for Blasty to complete a third lap past it before she picks it up. Unsurprisingly, the flower is cool, and wet, and small. Plucked from off the stem it needed nutrients from, she muses, to survive. Now something that is almost adrift, almost unattached. Almost free.
… Kind of like her.
A twig snaps. It echoes in her ears, and she flinches without meaning to. A reflex she needs to unlearn, but one that only ever occurs when she finally, finally lets down her guard. Blue drops the broken petals, her arms moving to cover her ears as she ducks her head. Afraid, always afraid.
The loud cries are what bring her back, the stomping of a charizard through the dense forest more a panacea than a menace. That voice… she knows who’s charizard Charizard is.
Blue feels Green’s presence long before she sees him. When he steps out onto the bank, where the water laps against the earth, his expression is worried. Uneasy.
Stupid. He shouldn’t have to worry about her. Not like this.
“Blue! You out here?” When he finally notices the girl, he tries to catch her eye. Blue’s own gaze is averted, looking instead at Green’s feet.
“The others are waiting for you, you know,” Green offers, when she doesn’t say anything.
Blue hums. Closes her eyes. Breathes in, then out.
She nods. “Okay,” she says, and hops off of Blasty to stand next to the second boy from Pallet Town.
⭑⁕⭑
(No, Blue doesn’t like the quiet days. They leave her feeling empty, numb.
But, sometimes, the manic days aren’t all that great, either.)
⭑⁕⭑
“Well, whaddya think?” Red asks, when she finally decides to visit him.
High atop the cliffs of Mt. Silver, where goosebumps form from the winds’ chill, Blue wonders if it wouldn’t be easier to stay on the ground, where things are safe, and no giant birds are looking to take her away, and the fall wouldn’t kill her if she makes one mistake.
But, Blue doesn’t mention any of these things. Cares less about those quiet-day-thoughts than she does about finding out if Red has anything worth stealing.
What can she say? He’s an easy target, and his reactions are adorable !
Thinks, Oh, this is going to be good, as Ditty transforms from a feather boa around her neck back to his pink, goopy form and croons. Her smile isn’t quite as fake as she’d like it to be, but it’s hard to be anything but fond when it comes to these ridiculous trainers with their idiotic attitudes and too-kind offers to help. Just help , as if that isn’t more than what she already expects.
Red’s still gesturing to his self-made obstacle course when Blue smirks, amused, and calls out, “You tell me!” There’s a skip in her step when she hops across several stones in the river, leaping up after the third to grab Jiggly’s foot as she floats into the air.
It takes a second for Red to realize she’s stolen his pokeball instead of his badges, this time. Blue’s almost surprised that it worked!
Of course, she doesn’t let up on her teasing. Chuckles, as she cajoles, “C’mon, Cutie ! What kind of trainer doesn’t even have their pokemon at the ready?!”
She pulls down her bottom eyelid and sticks out her tongue, Saur clutched tight in her hand. Can’t help snorting at his response, when Red shouts back. “Grr! You thief!”
There’s more laughter than anger in his tone. He’s smiling, playful, when he stretches his legs, bending one twice, then the other, before he starts sprinting, sprinting. Desperate to catch up, almost, except there’s no real danger, because they’re just friends checking up on friends.
Because this is just what they do, whenever they’re around one another. And, if it isn’t sneaking into Team Rocket’s bases or trying to catch Mew, or trying to destroy a barrier, or trying to rescue —
Well. When the stakes aren’t that high, making Red a repeat customer of her own, special brand of scamming and grifting people is something that leaves her warmer than it does cold.
Blue watches Red get close enough to swipe at her ankle. “Almost!” she laughs.
Pika joins Red pretty soon, after that, his paws dashing across stone and snow with a steady clack-clack-clack . Ditty curls around Blue’s ears and becomes a pair of earmuffs, but Blue’s too busy smiling and waving at the first boy from Pallet to realize just how red her ears and nose have gotten.
Red shrieks, “Come back down, here!”
In response, Jiggly takes Blue higher, higher, drifting further and further away. They’re still above the mountains, but Red and Pika are mere specks, at this point.
And, then, a screech echoes, loud and daring. The snow piled atop Red’s cave entrance falls with a thump , and a whoosh sweeps past Blue and Jiggly.
It’s only after Red’s already in front of her, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her in front of him onto the back of his ‘mon, that Blue remembers the aerodactyl Red still had. Aero, she thinks his name was. As ancient as he is swift and alert.
Red’s face is almost nose-to-nose with her when he grins, mischievous, and says, “Thinks that’s 2-0 for me, now, isn’t it?” The hand not holding the front of her shirt has not just Saur but, too, her precious Clefy, gripping the pokeballs tight.
Blue can’t help the blush that rises over her cheeks at the proximity, but it’s the embers of warmth in her chest that really do her in. The cackles that burst from her lungs have Red joining Blue, his Pikachu pitching squeaks from his place atop her Wigglytuff’s head.
He backs off as Aero circles back to the top of Mt. Silver, where Red, Blue, Pika, and Jiggly go tumbling down-down-down into yet another snow drift.
She barely feels the cold.
⭑⁕⭑
(It isn’t until after that she’ll wish she’d brought something more appropriate.
In spite of the fever she’s contracted, she had fun. It should be enough, shouldn’t it?)
⭑⁕⭑
Blue wonders, and she wanders, and she thinks, Pallet Town has never been her home. But, she wants it to be.
Can almost believe it, some days, when she has the quiet ones, and the manic ones, and the normal ones, in-between. Can almost trust it, when Green gives her quiet words and lets her drop the mask, far outside the city where the stars shine bright and no one but him and her pokemon can see the things she hides. Can almost want it, when Red gives her escapades that involve a lot more trouble and a lot more danger than the quiet streets of Pallet, itself, sun shining bright across her shoulders as she gives herself frostburn and laughs herself hoarse.
Green promises her sanctuary. Red promises her freedom. Both give of their friendship so freely, Blue doesn’t know what to do with herself.
… But, that’s alright. She’s still figuring things out. And, well, she has all the time in the world, now, to appreciate it, right?
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(She’s… free .)
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