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“Auuughhhhhh, why isn't this stupid thing working!!!” Lear kicked the side of the elevator door, frustratedly, not caring it probably did more damage to him than he did to it. He grinded his teeth in frustration. “As a prince, I cannot be wasting so much of my precious time. Stuck in an elevator is not how I want to spend my day…” The violet-tinted lights flickered overhead and the faint buzzing only added more to the frustration.
Scottie, next to him, places a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him, but to no avail as Lear stiffened at the sudden touch. “Relax, Mr. Sunglasses…” They said. “I'm sure someone will help us soon.”
“Do not touch me.” Lear groaned. “And stop with that ridiculous nickname. It is annoying and I have had enough of it.” He leans against the door with his head in an exasperated sigh. Scottie gave him a concerned look, which he scowled in response. “And do not look at me like that!! It is degrading for the likes of you to stare at someone in power with a face like that. Don't patronize me.”
Scottie didn't look away. “Are you alright, buddy?” They said. “I've noticed you have been in a bad mood all throughout this day…” They didn't usually talk this much. It was annoying. “Getting really quick to anger over things that usually wouldn't concern you and--”
“Shut up, Scottie.” Lear interrupted, finally taking his head from the door. He started pacing back and forth, tapping his fingers in crossed arms. “You would never understand. Nor do I want you too. I have a reputation to uphold.” He paused for a second, grumbling incoherent speech under his breath. He went and said too much and probably only sparked Scottie's curiosity.
“Maybe if you--”
“Absolutely not.” Lear's voice was one step from a yell. He rubbed his temple with one thumb in anger. “Don't push me. I have hurt people for far less.” He stopped pacing and rushed over to kick the door again but Scottie stopped him, stepping in front of him and shaking their head in disapproval. They didn't talk much but Lear knew what they were trying to say. This won't help. It'll only make things worse. The thought made him all the more frustrated and he let himself fall on the ground, crossing his arms over his knees. “If I were to choose to be trapped in an elevator right now, I would choose literally everyone else but you to be trapped with. Alas, things working out as intended is too much of a dream come true.”
“Even Red?” Scottie gave a small chuckle at Lear's scoff. They sat down next to him on the ground.
“You know exactly what I meant, stupid hat!” Lear hissed at them, fist clenching in front of his face. “An exaggeration. Do not look into it.” He sighed, crossing his arms back. “...We're going to be stuck in here for a few hours, probably. Rachel is out training and Sawyer is busy with maintenance, how ironic, and cooking for the main events. And of course, you remember,” He pulls out his phone out of his pocket, revealing the horribly cracked screen and case. Another victim of Lear's anger today. Luckily, the Rotom… Porygon?... that was usually inside it fled its capsule before it broke. . .
Lear grumbled and threw the phone against the door with another angry hiss, shattering it to pieces, scaring Scottie quite a bit, but Lear didn't notice. “...I'll get another one. I just…” His voice trails off into incoherent gibberish. “Ugh, damnit, why did this have to happen today…?” Scottie could tell it was getting harder and harder for Lear to maintain his composure. His hands were shaking uncontrollably and Scottie noticed sweat dripping down his face. His breathing had also quickened and this worried Scottie greatly.
“Mayb--”
Before Scottie could finish a single word, Lear holds a hand up to silence them. He mumbles something and pushes his goggles up his forehead, allowing his eyes to be shown. Scottie had never seen them before, due to the red goggles being far too opaque from the outside. They had always wondered how Lear himself even saw through them. Maybe it was like a one way mirror or something?
Lear's eyes were a pale lavender colour with white-ish pupils, but that didn't concern Scottie. Underneath Lear's eyes were the worst eye bags they had ever seen. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. They once again opened their mouth to express concern for their friend, but Lear interrupted once more. “...If I tell you…” He looked away from them, not wanting to see the pity in their eyes. He was a prince. How dare they look at him like a miserable puppy! “If I tell you what's going on, will you leave me the hell alone about it?!?!” He took off his goggles completely, spinning them in his hand a few times, only stopping to add, “And that you won't tell anyone?!”
Scottie reluctantly nods, wanting to know how to best help their friend, even if he were a prince, even if it were a one-sided friendship, was their top priority right now.
“Good. Haha, and you best believe, if I hear you have broken this promise… HahaHAHAHA.” His laughter became more erratic as he wheezed trying to catch his breath. This was concerning on so many levels, but Scottie let him speak. “You. Do not. Want to know. What. I Have the power. To do to you.” His eyes portrayed some unknown, but very clearly negative emotion. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Y-Yes…”
Lear scoffed, wishing already he hadn't made this deal. “This should be easier than this…” He whispered to himself. “This is the day that…” His voice strained with every word.
“This is the day that my mother died.”
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It all made sense now. The anger. The impatience. Scottie gulped uncomfortably. Now they understood why it took so long for the prince to say anything to them, or even Rachel and Sawyer. They had heard stories from them, not to Lear's knowledge of course, that his mother had died when he was young and that it was extremely hard on him even still sometimes. They were broken from their thoughts to see Lear staring at them, as if waiting for a response. “Oh…” Scottie started, unable to say much more than that.
“Oh?” Lear echoes scornfully, grabbing Scottie by the shoulders. “That's all you have to say? OH?!!!” His fingers gripped them tightly and they gritted their teeth in pain. “Do you have any earthly clue how hard that was for me to tell you?! And you just responded “Oh”. What the hell is that supposed to mean!? SPEAK, DAMNIT!!!” His grip tightened and his eyes shone with so much anger they were tearing up.
Scottie struggled in his grasp. “I… I-I- I'm sorry, I…” They flinched as Lear let go and pushed them away. “I didn't know what to say… I just…”
Lear frowned, turning away, wiping his face with his gloves to try and calm himself down. Whether he noticed the tears remained unclear. “...I do not know why I did that…” He practically whispers out the closest thing to an apology he could give. He looks back at Scottie, and for a moment they thought they could see genuine guilt in the lavender. “Are… you alright?”
“You know it takes more than that to bring me down, Mr. Sunglasses.” Scottie chuckles, trying to cheer Lear up.
The prince rolled his eyes in annoyance at the nickname, but they were clearer of negative feelings now. “Shoddy hat.” He muttered. He looked up at the ceiling's bright lights, sighing. They were both silent for what felt like ages, but was perhaps only a few minutes. “Look,” He started. “I know Rachel and Sawyer have been telling you about my past and so forth.” He was blinking a lot, clearly not used to being without the red tints of the world his goggles brought. “And, I'm not saying I am angry with them or anything… If anyone were to tell you about that, I would definitely rather it be them… But… In a way, I am actually angry. If I had wanted you to know, I would have said. Though, I am not sure if anger is the correct emotion I am feeling right now….” He shook his head. “Whatever emotion, anger, frustration, disappointment. It's not at them directly. Just the fact I have been trying to keep that out of the open, and for nothing. I do know they are looking out for me. Those fools are more attached to me than my own shadow. Only…”
Scottie nodded in understanding. “I know, Lear. I know that you have struggled so much just to appear strong so you can be the best king you can be. Anyone with an ounce of observation skills could notice that.”
“That… Quite literally does not make me feel better, Scottie.” Lear grumbled. “Working so hard just to be found I can be read like a book? Great pep talk. You should be a therapist, stupid hat.”
Scottie shrugged. “It wasn't really meant to be.” They said. Lear liked it better when they didn't speak. “I was just saying that I knew what you were trying to say. Since this kind of thing tends to make you uncomfortable.”
“Stop speaking. Gah, you were better silent…” Lear muttered. “Speaking for me. I am a grown adult and I do not recall asking for your help.” He goes back to spinning his goggles around, contemplating putting them back on. He figured though, since Scottie had already seen his eyes, there would be no point in hiding them again. “So don't expect me to thank you, got it?!”
“You're welcome.” Scottie cheerily said with a dumb smile on their face.
“I just said that wasn't a thank you, idiot!!!” He slips up, dropping his goggles, accidentally shooting them across the room. They were strong material so they did not break easily, but it was still enough to get Lear to curse at himself. He half reaches, half crawls to get them, hissing out insults under his breath. When he picked them up, he carefully examined them, making sure no scratches were found. He sighed relief, unclipping them and reclipping them back around his eyes, returning the world to its usual rosy tints.
“Why are those glasses so important to you anyway?”
Lear couldn't take anymore of their yapping. He gets up swiftly, rushing over to where Scottie was, picking them up by the front of their shirt to force them to their feet. “Will you shut the hell up already?” He growled. “Do not talk to me like we are equals! I am a prince and you are a mere peasant. Stop it with your insolent questions!” Maybe this is not smart to do in an elevator.
“L-Lear… That hu-hurts!!!” Scottie stammered.
Lear frowned. “Will you shut the heck up and let me speak? Maybe you'll get what you asked for.” He said, grip loosening slightly. Scottie nods, a bit shakily. He was glad they could not see his eyes anymore. He set them back down on the ground gently and slowly. Groaning in exasperation, he went back to pacing back and forth. “Why do I keep doing that?” He grabbed his head in his hands. He hated being confined for so long. Maybe that's what was getting to him. He glanced over at Scottie, eyes looking in between his fingers, to see them gasping in fear. “I didn't mean to do that… I…” His hands’ grip was messing up his hair but he didn't care. “I'm sorry, Scottie.”
Scottie looks back up to him, surprised. They had never heard the prince apologize to anyone, for any reason. “You… said it.”
“Huh?” Lear straightened himself up. “What are you going on about now?”
“You actually said ‘sorry’."
Lear rolled his eyes, annoyed that was the thing Scottie paid attention to. “Yeah, yeah, haha, laugh it up. I'll have you know I am perfectly capable of apologizing, you insolent fool.” He crossed his arms. “I only. . .” He ends his pacing and sits back next to Scottie awkwardly. “I was always taught that a good king never apologizes so, if I have to, I save it for when it really does matter.”
Lear shifts his gloves uncomfortably, the material sticking to his skin from the sweat. He sat back down, leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and letting his body go limp to try to relax. If they were stuck here, he may as well get comfortable. Scottie, returning to their usual quiet, does the same, gifting the prince, finally, a moment of silence. Sweet relief…
.
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Lear wasn't sure when he fell asleep but when he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in an open field. As he started to take a step, he felt himself pushed down by a heavy load on his back. This threw off his balance and he fell backwards to the ground and tumbled down a steep hill.
When he stopped, he slowly heaved himself up, but didn't have the strength to stand. He sat there, huffing, confused and, though he hated to admit it, a bit scared. He gripped the dirt underneath him to keep himself steady. Where was he right now?
“Is that all you've got?!” A familiar woman's voice sounded to his left. No. Not here. Not now. “To be a king, you have to be strong. Not this weak. Not this stupid.” Lear huffed in frustration as he tried standing once more. “How do you expect to rule an entire kingdom when you cannot do something this simple?”
“I know… I just…” Lear felt the words come from his mouth but did not recognize the timidness in his own voice. Was he dreaming about his past? Was this him as a child? Why was this coming back to him again?
“We have caught you skipping out on your nightly studies again. So now we have to waste our time keeping an eye on you, prince.” Lear hated the way the other voice, to his right, sounded. How he had said the word “prince” with so much of a sardonic tone. Such a title was not meant to be said in such a way. If he had been an adult in these times instead of the weak, feeble, naive child he once was, he would have immediately punched them in the face or… got Hoopa to send a bunch of wild Tauros at them. He smiled at the thought.
The two people were still talking, but he blacked them out, trying to focus on figuring out his situation. He looked behind him to study that what had been weighing him down the whole time were several logs of wood. Of course. He remembered now. Strength and endurance training. This was one of the regimes he had to endure during his time spent at the Rising Star Academy boarding school. After his mother died… He frowns, gripping the dirt in his fingernails. A little bit after that had happened, his father had sent him here, in hopes to train him to be the strongest king he could be. The problem was, this place had taught him to rely only on himself and never allow anyone to come into his life. A philosophy he had still been trying to break even to this day. The real present. Not this dream's present.
Lear grunts, heaving himself back up from the ground in triumph, functioning solely on spite at that moment. He took in the memories to bring his teachers’ names to heart once again. Celimine and Janus. He glared at Janus, the one who kept using the word “prince” mockingly. Even though he knew it to be a dream, Lear was determined to wipe that stupid smile off of his face. He growled insults at them under his breath and began to make his way back up the hill again.
A lot easier said, to run on spite, than done. As the weight immediately threatened to buckle his small legs once more, he shifted his stance, shoes digging deeper in the ground. He grits his teeth and walks slowly up, very carefully shifting his weight to each foot to avoid falling again. After about one minute, he hears Janus’ voice behind him again. It took everything for Lear to bite his tongue and not whirl around to face him. That would not have gone well.
Janus yawns obnoxiously loudly. “Woooow, this is a bore! Look at how slowly this dumb kid is going.” He dramatically holds a hand to his mouth. “Sorry, prince, do you need some… motivation?”
What in the name of Arceus is he muttering about? Lear found out the answer to his question immediately as he felt fire an inch from his arms. He slowly turned to see a Houndoom rushing towards him. He begins to time his strides much faster.
“Janus!” Celimine glares at her brother in disgust. “We agreed not to use Houndoom! You know that would leave scars that cannot be healed. The king would kill us both. Call it back. Now.”
“Well then, he just has to not get hit.” Janus calls out after Lear, ignoring Celimine's words. “Right, prince?!”
If Lear was not in such a short, weak and scrawny state right now, it would be a cakewalk for him to make him eat those words. Unfortunately he had no time to think about that right now as the Houndoom's flames were getting closer. He had heard information about this pokémon. Wounds caused by its flames would never heal. His eyes widened and he quickened his pace tremendously.
“Lear…” He heard voices mocking him, echoing into his ears. “Lear…” They kept repeating his name. Ducking to avoid getting hit by the next attack, he tripped over a rock, knocking him off course. The offset of balance immediately threw him backwards and he felt his pathetic body tumble to the ground. His lavender eyes peered down as he fell, staring into the fire-cloaked fangs of the jet black beast below him. Nothing could stop him from tumbling down right into its jaws, no matter how much he tried to reach his hands out to grab the ground once again. “Lear!!!” The echoed voices got louder and he closed his eyes ready to accept his fate as he felt horrific burning on his hand when the teeth interlocked his fingers...
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Lear's eyes flew open as he desperately tried to catch his breath. The pain he had felt had numbed down and he no longer felt weighted. He shook himself. He was back in the elevator with Scottie. The present. His glare snapped up to see Scottie hovering over him, hands on his shoulders.
“Lear!!!!” Scottie's voice was close to a cry. Lear hated it very much. “Oh, thank Arceus! You're awake!” Their quickened breathing was starting to calm a bit. “You were screaming in your sleep…”
Lear struggled out of their grasp but to no avail. Damnit… He thought to himself. He allowed this stupid kid to see even more of his weaknesses. “I…” He started, but was interrupted.
“What happened? Are you alright? You were screaming! Very loudly. You sounded so scared or in pain or--”
“Shut up, Scottie.” It was Lear's turn to interrupt. He turned away, crossing his arms. “It was just a nightmare. Nothing can matter to me now.” He gulped, knowing he was still very clearly shaken from the dream. “I am a grown adult. A prince. Bad dreams mean nothing. Only a child would be affected by such things.” He grabbed his face after realizing that his goggles had been knocked off. This means Scottie saw the fear in his eyes, knew immediately his cowardice, identified his weakness too closely.
Though it was hardly saying much, Scottie noticed his distress as per usual. “Lear, just because you're a prince and future king doesn't mean you are not allowed to have basic human emotions.” They said.
“That's exactly what it means!” Lear shouted, heart hurting full of anger once again. “Not that you'd understand in the slightest, Scottie, but to be a ruler means people look up to you. Showing weakness makes people not trust you, or worse, take advantage of you. I have been through way too much for way too long to keep my outer appearance continue to be strong. To be bold and bright. There's too much at stake any time my fragility is shown.” He didn't realize, but he was pulling at his hair. “This stupid day always makes me my most vulnerable so Rachel and Sawyer take over the island's duties each year it comes around.” He scoffed and laughed much like a soft whisper. “This little field trip for you was supposed to be an in and out. About five minutes. I was going to go straight home after. Have some me-time. But no. Screw anything working out for sad, weak, worthless, cowardly, pathetic, helpless, so-called Prince, Lear!”
Scottie shook their head in dismay. This was just not right. This was not like their friend at all to be saying things like this. They had never heard him self-deprecate himself this far. This was not right. They wrapped their arms around him in a hug, ignoring his growls and hisses, only pulling him closer.
“Let go of me!!!!” Even though Lear had the ability to easily throw this kid across the room, something prevented it as he struggled in their arms in vain. He let out a heavy sigh, returning the favour with an awkward pat on their back. “There.” He said. “Now will you let go?”
Scottie listened this time, sitting up and backing away from Lear's personal space. “You were screaming…” They mumbled again, still shaken. “I didn't know what to do…”
“Do not pity me.” Lear said. He had finally located his goggles, which were only a few feet from him. He noticed immediately that the strap that held them in place was torn quite a bit, probably from ripping them off in his sleep, but nothing that couldn't be replaced. The lenses were fully intact at the very least. If anything else had gone that dramatically wrong in this elevator, Lear was unsure if he could handle it. “That only further strengthens my point, you know.” He places his goggles safely in his pocket to avoid further damage.
Scottie shakes their head. “No. It doesn't.” Lear hated how blunt they were sometimes. “Showing emotions just proves your strength. That you are not afraid of how the world sees you.” They continued. “Putting on this cheap, bratty prince persona of yours hardly does you any favours.” Lear really hated how blunt they were sometimes.
“Come again?” Lear challenged, narrowing his eyes, but barely in any true annoyance.
To the fluffy prince's surprise, they didn't waver. “If anything, it makes you less desirable.” Scottie's facial expression was blank and they were speaking very matter-of-factly.
That caused Lear to snap. He crossed his arms to prevent himself from lashing at the stupid hatted kid again. “How dare you?!” He retorted. “Foolishness or plain ignorance, I don't care. Did you not learn anything from Rachel and Sawyer?” He rolled his eyes when Scottie tilted their head in confusion. “Figures someone like you wouldn't understand.” He muttered incoherent insults. “...Fine. If you must know, I am the way that I am now, not by choice, but because…” He struggled to find the right words. “Because of my upbringing, okay? I was taught from a very young age how a prince and future king is supposed to act. That was my entire purpose. I was taught how to look down on others at age six. How to put on a facade of power at age seven. How to defend myself, without pokemon, at age ten. How to…” His voice trailed off. He looked up into Scottie's eyes, noticing they were paying attention very closely to every single word the prince had spoken. He was not used to it. Being listened to so closely. “Fine, you want the heart of it all? I may as well say it since you've already seen way too much of me already.” He muttered.
Scottie looked confused still. “Heart of it what?
“You want me to tell you the full story or not, stupid hat?!”
“Oh.” Scottie said. “Sure, I guess.”
Lear breathed slowly in and out to prevent himself from lashing at this kid's blatant disrespect. “Whatever.” He muttered. “So when…” He gulped. “When my mother, the queen, died, it was very hard on me. If I am being completely honest, it still is.” His gaze shifts away from Scottie's. “She should have been here to see this. I really would have liked to know how she would have felt about Pasio and the PML. Or what she would think about how I've grown. If I stop lying to myself, I doubt she would be proud of how I have been acting lately, but…” He shook himself, preventing his brain going down that rabbit-hole of emotions. “When she died… I became more… Angry at the world. Would you believe me if I told you that I punched Sawyer once?”
Scottie smiled at that, trying to remain serious, but picturing a baby Lear punching a man as tall and muscular as Sawyer was almost enough to make them burst out laughing.
“Hey, what's that look for?!” Lear grumbled. “Anyway, the commotion caused by that was enough to disturb my father in his studies and he decided to enroll me in a school designed for… correcting my behavior.”
“W-What?” Scottie gasped. “And how old were you?”
“Not sure?” Lear didn't understand what Scottie's point was. “Ten… Maybe twelve?”
“You were just a kid, not even a teenager, grieving your dead mother.” Scottie couldn't believe what they were hearing. They had always wondered why Lear never talked about his father directly instead of indirect comments about his position on receiving the throne. Now they understood why. “Why would he do that to his own son?”
Lear's eyes darkened. “I had to continue my training and they were too soft on me. Because of them knowing that same fact, they could never be tough on me.” He felt his voice strain, as he had regretted everything he let Scottie know once more. “That school… Rising Star Academy… Was far from just tough though. It was torture. It was…” He felt his heart racing as he thought back to his dream again. “It made me who I am today, to put it bluntly.”
“...That's awful. I'm so sorry.”
Lear felt his hands tighten into fists. “Don't be.” He said, a tang of coldness in his voice. “I am not talking about this for you to feel sorry for me. It is to put things into perspective. You were making me furious comparing me to a “bratty prince” without knowing my circumstances. That is all that was for you.” Lear finally managed to meet their gaze again. Why was this so hard without his rosy shades? “Do not pity me, you insolent fool… You will regret it.”
Scottie fell silent once more. Lear wished they would make up their damn mind over whether they were going to be a chatterbox waffler or a silent protagonist character. They tapped their fingers together and seemed to be deep in some kind of thought.
Lear would have taken the time to try to relax a bit, but was too afraid… No, not afraid, he wasn't afraid of the likes of this kid, but… cautious… of Scottie hearing him screaming again. He decided it was hardly worthy of taking a risk. He had gone weeks without sleep before, what was a few more hours compared to that? The dimming lights overhead were not helping with that though. When he got out of this elevator, the first thing he was going to do was to order some of the strongest caffeinated coffee he could find. He couldn't afford to sleep like that again. He craved the caffeine that could wake a sleeping Salamence so desperately now.
He shifts uncomfortably at the still quiet. If Scottie was going to talk, he wanted them to be out with it already. The silence was causing his mind to wander back to his dream and…
“Did you really punch Sawyer?” Lear nearly fell over at the sudden break of quiet by the stupid hatted kid.
“That's what you were thinking about this whole time?!” Of course it wasn't anything too serious. This was Scottie after all. Lear sits back up, to see their eyes portraying no signs of malice or mischief. They're not joking. “Yeah.” He said. “I barely did any damage, as I was still a weak kid at the time, but yeah. I did.”
“Wow.” Why were they looking at him like that?
“I regretted it immediately, even before my father came in talking about the boarding school.” Lear continued. “I do not even remember why I did it. Probably some pointless argument. I was always so angry in those days and they kept feeling more and more overbearing. Until I snapped, and… As did my father, heheh. The rest is history.”
Scottie didn’t like how he spoke so nonchalantly about the worst things possible. The rest is history? Apparently several years of torturous regimes at a boarding school, a neglectful father, a dead mother, and others he for sure was not mentioning, all boiled down to that sentence? Lear had laughed too, even though nothing was funny about that in the slightest.
They knew whenever they tried to show concern, he took it as an insult though. If only they knew a way to do so without insulting the fluffy prince's pride. Maybe…
“Hey, Lear…” Scottie began.
“Hmph?” Lear barely glances up to meet their gaze, still very clearly upset. He was shaking, but whether from fear, stress or anger was uncertain. Every so often he held his hand out to check if it was still shaking (it was) and would let out a growl of frustration. The frustration only seemed to make the negative feelings worsen though. His violet eyes portrayed pure stress. Scottie knew they shouldn't, but they felt sorry for him. Not in a demeaning way, but just at the circumstances. “What do you want?” Lear continued. He was used to Scottie taking a long time to answer things, but not quite this long. The sudden speech broke them free from thought.
“I…” Scottie trailed off, unsure how to continue their plan.
“Out with it. May as well if we're spilling out all of my weaknesses today.”
“It's just that…” Scottie continued. “You keep mentioning that I don't understand the things you have been through. I do, kinda. And well, it's not exact, I just…” They see Lear's eyes show understanding. “I just wanted to let you know that you are not alone. At least not anymore.”
“Foolishness.” Lear says, crossing his arms. Not in so much anger though. “Of course I know that now.” He had finally gotten most of his shivering under control. “What do you mean about you understanding me?” He added, bringing himself to meet their gaze.
Scottie taps their fingers together in thought again. “Well, I mean…”
Lear rolled his eyes. “If you want to say something, then say it. If not, then why bother.” He muttered. “You do not usually care about your words this much. It is not like you. I fail to understand how someone like you could relate to someone like me. Unless you actually go through with it and expla--”
“I had times where I was alone too.” Scottie said. “I also had neglectful parents.”
There was a moment of silence. At first, Lear did not understand the relation. Neglectful? His father, the king, was a lot of things, but he wasn't negle…ct…ful… Oh. Oh. That made sense now. He at long last understood exactly why this conversation was happening. Although, even if he understood, it did not mean he fully accepted it.
“You've got it wrong!” He retorted. “My father wasn't… My training was necessary. Not neglect.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than his stupid hatted friend. “I regret to hear about your parents being that way to you. I really do. But do not compare that to something that was needed. Of course I hated the training. Of course it changed my whole world view. That was its point! I needed to be strong. To be a king. I needed to. . .” He stopped talking, looking back to the ground, eyes shaded over. “Your parents. We were talking about your parents.”
“It's not the same, but of similar circumstances.” Scottie hated seeing Lear's silky eyes portray such an emotion. “But I don't want to talk about it in its full exactness. Let's just say I was also always pushed to be strong. I came to this island to escape it all, honestly.”
“Just like you said.” The sheer coldness in the prince's voice shocked Scottie. “It's not the same.”
Sigh… Scottie wished only to help, but they had worsened things once more. They wished they had met in other circumstances. That he had not been raised to hide any and all weakness from the world. Maybe they would have been real friends.
All of Scottie's friends on Team Highfliers have told them not to bother trying. They told them that it was not worth it. They couldn't help it. If there was someone that needed their help, they wanted to help them. Simple as that. What truly was all of their hardship if not to help others?
Scottie was torn from their thoughts by hearing the sound of a pained grunt. Lear looked like he was in actual physical pain, even though his eyes were now covered by the shadow of his hair. He had his arms crossed over his head, fingernails digging deep into his scalp, holding tightly clumps of silvery-purple hair, and facing downwards to the ground. His strong facade was over at this point, but Scottie decided not to confront it.
Such had to have been a revelation for him. He had come to the conclusions that what he thought to be a requisite to grow up a powerful king, was actually just… neglect. Neglect from the person who was supposed to be his father. The one to care for him in his time of need. And this was only what Lear and his retainers have brought themselves to tell them. Only Arceus knows what else there could have been that they were hiding. Scottie would have inquired as such, but they were afraid of leaping over more boundaries than they had already.
Scottie shook their head, glancing up at the ceiling to see the violet lights flashing brightly overhead. How long have they been trapped here? Five minutes? Three hours? Who knows. It was too soon to tell if it even was a worthy amount or not. Too little time yet too much happening.
“Scottie… I must admit something.” They had not realized they had fallen into micro-sleep until the voice had jolted them awake. Lear had taken away his hands from his head and was looking at them with a serious look in his eye.
Scottie tilts their head in confusion, brought back to their silence from the uncomfort and the anxiety. They didn't want to say anything else to screw this up.
Luckily, for Lear that was enough to understand, so he continued along his words. “Do not laugh.” Scottie nods and he sighs. “There have been times when I did not want to be king. Because if that is what I had to go through, I didn't want it. And… Even though I am obviously above power-wise, in more ways than one, most people. Sometimes I find myself longing for that… normal life.”
This made sense. Of course one that experienced the hardships of boarding school and who knows what else would think this way. It was only a natural response to trauma. The strain in his voice was enough for Scottie to know this to be extremely hard for the young prince. The question to be begged though was why he thought that Scottie would have laughed at such a thing. Nothing was even relatively amusing about that statement.
“But.” Lear said, continuing. “I have since gotten over that. I must be king. To be a better king than my father ever was. To carry on the legacy of. . . my mother.” That was the fourth or fifth time he had to pause to bring himself to mention his mother. “The thing that got me out of such a slump is the realization that if I never am king… Everything I've experienced to this point would have been for nothing. All the torture, the heartache, the loneliness. All for no reason at all. That's what keeps me going. Call it spite. Whatever you want. I call it necessary.”
Scottie couldn't help but smile in full awe of him. Lear's prince title meant hardly anything to them, but the idea that he was using his hardships as a motivator, was quite awe-inspiring.
“That is why I strive to make Pasio and the PML the best it can possibly be. So one day, my father will let me inherit the throne I deserve.”
“You will be a great king.” Scottie finally brought themselves to blurt out. “Not because you are all powerful. But because you take the time to care. And from the looks of things, it seems your father was/is not that way. I believe in you, Lear. You'll prove him wrong.” Scottie considered adding that it would be okay for Lear to never be king but remain as Prince of Pasio, but they knew that was the last thing he needed right now. “I'm sure Rachel and Sawyer do believe in you too.”
Lear scoffed. “Of course they do. They are more attached to me than my own shadow sometimes. The fools…” His eyes were back from being serious anymore. “I should really thank them more. They are truly more important in my life than my father ever was.”
“Yeah, I'm sure they'd appreciate it.”
Choir ahs seemed to sing as they were interrupted by the elevator doors opening slowly in front of them. They were met by the silhouettes of Rachel and Sawyer themselves. Speak of the devil. Scottie thought with a smile.
“Rachel!! Sawyer!!!” Lear heaved himself upward from the ground. “You came!!” He looked like he really wanted to rush over to them, but stopped himself. Some things never change even with a heart to heart.
“Young master!” Sawyer did not have such restraint as he charged at Lear, picking him up off of the ground in his giant arms before the latter could put up a fight. Which was good, because Lear was too tired to fight anymore. “Are you alright?” Sawyer demanded. “We went back to your room to check on you, and when you weren't there, we were worried sick.”
“But I was tooootally worried more.” Rachel added, one sleeve covering her mouth as she laughed rhythmically. She turns to Scottie. “You didn't annoy the master too, too much, didja?”
“Well actually…” Scottie started, but was interrupted by a certain pokemon's cry. Hoopa had squeezed past the two retainers and made its way to Lear, who had finally been placed back on the ground.
“Hoopa? Why are you here now?” Lear said, giving it a pat on the head. “Worried about me?”
“He was actually the one that let us know you were in the elevator.” Sawyer told him. “When we were looking all over the island for you, we noticed him holding up this elevator and refusing to let any other trainers inside.”
“Wait.” Lear said, voice changing to annoyance as he noticed Hoopa's amused eyes. “THIS WAS YOUR DOING?!”
The mischievous donut lover did a flip as it let out a silly cry. Scottie somehow understood. Hoopa had messed with the elevator in order to get Lear to talk to them. Albeit a horrible way to do so, Scottie admitted that this did a lot for both of them. Though Lear was definitely never going to admit this, the shattered worldview might have been just what he needed at this time of constant stress. Scottie smiled in silent thanks at the strange pokemon, tipping their hat to show they understood.
They were sure Hoopa hadn't noticed though, because it was already flying away as a seething Lear dashed from the elevator, to the brighter outside world, after it. His angry screams rebounded in the pokemon center lobby.
“HOOOOOOOOOOOPAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!”