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Burnout

Tracey looked up in surprise when he heard the backdoor open and close one Thursday morning. They weren't expecting any visitors today but Ash and Delia were always popping by unannounced and Misty liked to occasionally surprise him when she wasn't too busy with the gym. But today's visitor wasn't any of those three.

“Hey!” he greeted with a grin. He paused when a realization struck him – Gary was expected, but not until Saturday. “Wait, a second… Aren't you supposed to be in Celadon right now?”

Gary sighed and pushed his sunglasses atop his hair before dropping gracelessly into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “Should be in anatomy lab,” he confirmed.

A brilliant blue-white light filled the room as Umbreon released herself from her pokeball and Gary winced noticeably. A migraine? No, he would've holed himself up in his dorm if that was the case. Either way, he was pale, clammy, and looked rather like he had rolled out of bed and decided to head home for the day. Umbreon greeted Tracey with a single glance and sat at Gary’s side, insistently nudging his hand with her nose. 

There were roughly a dozen red flags rising all at once. 

“You're skipping class?” Tracey asked, unable to keep the wariness out of his voice.

“No, I flew here so Alakazam could teleport me to class.”

Tracey frowned. Sarcasm and some snarkiness were fully expected, but not with that bitter tone. He finished pouring his coffee with a sigh and sat down across from his friend. “What's going on, Gary?” he pressed.

Gary groaned and folded his arms on the table and rested his head atop them, burying his face against the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “Couldn't deal with Celadon today.”

Couldn't. 

That wasn’t a word he typically heard from Gary.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Gary didn't reply and another thought occurred to Tracey. “You didn't drive here like this, did you?”

Gary shook his head slightly, staying put. “Pidgeot.”

Tracey wasn't sure if that was more concerning or not. “You flew halfway across the region this sick on your pokemon?” 

Something else was going on. There had to be. Gary didn't just show up out of the blue like this. Well, he did… but it was usually a planned surprise that Tracey and Delia were in on. Not like this.

“I'm not sick,” Gary mumbled.

Not sick when he was this pale and clammy, and very obviously not his usual self? Tracey didn't believe that for a second. “You're not sick?” he echoed doubtfully.

“No… I'm just hungover.”

Again? 

It hadn’t been that long ago that Gary would only have a single drink or two. There was a point in time – rather recently – where Tracey had never seen him more than tipsy and silly with Ash and Misty, but now… Now it seemed he was hungover every time Tracey saw him. He knew that university was stressful and that Gary had been unhappy, but this was getting out of hand. Tracey wasn't sure what the cause behind it all was: whether it was just the stress of school, or the lack of travel, or something else entirely.

Either way, it was time to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.  

“Is everything okay with you and Ash?” he asked cautiously.

Gary dropped his head to rest on his folded arms again. “Things are fine with Ash… That's the only thing going right.” The last bit was muttered under his breath and Tracey only just barely heard it. 

Another half-dozen red flags were raised. 

“Okay... Why are you hungover then?”

“Do we have to talk about it?”

“You show up out of the blue, skipping class and hungover, and you don't want to have to explain yourself.” Tracey shook his head, already exasperated with Gary’s constant dancing around serious conversations. They had been doing this for months now. “Do I have to get your grandfather involved already?”

“Do we have to talk about it right now?” Gary asked, the question somewhere between a groan and a whine. “My head's killing me.”

Tracey heaved a sigh and took a sip of his coffee. It was too early to deal with Gary being stubborn and miserable. “Alright,” he relented, fully intending on calling Ash the second Gary was out of the room and speaking to the professor the moment he got down to the lab. “Go sleep it off, I'll let your grandfather know you're home.”

Gary’s head shot up. “Don't tell him–”

This time Tracey did roll his eyes. “I won't tell him you're hungover as long as you drink some water and go to bed. C'mon, let's get you upstairs.”

He stood and attempted to usher Gary out of the kitchen, but Gary waved him off. “I made it here, Trace, I’m pretty sure I can make it to my room.”

Tracey let him go, albeit rather reluctantly. At least Umbreon was with him and Tracey didn’t hear any stumbling on the stairs anyway. He waited until he heard a distant bedroom door close before letting out a sigh of relief, but that relief was short-lived. 

All of this meant that there was a bigger problem going on. He needed to call Ash.

The trainer answered on the third ring, voice thick with sleep. “Wha’s th'matter, Trace?” he all but slurred groggily.

“I need your help with your boyfriend.”

“What's wrong with Gary?” 

Under normal circumstances, Tracey would have laughed at how suddenly wide-awake Ash was. He heard Pikachu's curious chitter through the phone at the mention of Gary’s name and couldn't hold back a smile, despite the circumstances. The little guy was getting more and more attached to Gary by the day.

“He’s here –”

“What?” Tracey pulled the phone away from his ear, wincing at Ash’s squawk. “Thursdays are his busiest days! He can't be there!”

“He’s skipping his anatomy lab because he's hungover.”

This time Ash was quiet and when his response finally came, it was an equally quiet and thoroughly bewildered, “What?” 

“He says he couldn’t deal with Celadon today.”

Ash was quiet for another long moment – long enough that Tracey almost worried that he had fallen back asleep. “That’s not like him,” he finally said slowly. 

“No, it’s not,” Tracey agreed. 

“No, seriously, Tracey–” There was a yelp and a loud thump, and Tracey sighed as there was some muffled rustling and a few chatters from Pikachu. He should have made more coffee this morning – he was going to need it. “He has all of his big classes on Thursday,” Ash continued as though he hadn’t just very obviously fallen off a bed. “Something's wrong.”

Well, no kidding! That was why he was calling him! Tracey took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Getting annoyed with Ash wouldn't help right now.

“Yeah,” he agreed once he was sure he wouldn’t snap at his younger friend. “Are you far?”

“I'm in Cherrygrove. I've got Charizard, I'll be there soon!”

The line went silent and Tracey shook his head, torn between amusement and exasperation. At least getting Ash involved had been easy. Now he just needed to talk to the professor. 

He headed down to the lab and leaned against the door in the entryway to the professor’s office and knocked lightly. “Gary's home,” he announced quietly when the professor looked up.

A smile crossed the professor’s face. “Ah, wonderful!” There was a brief pause and the professor’s smile faded as realization dawned on his face. “It's only Thursday,” he observed, frowning.

“He's supposed to be in his anatomy lab right now, but he’s not feeling well so he came home.” He didn’t need to worry the professor with the reason why Gary wasn’t feeling well right now. That was for him and Ash to deal with. Speaking of Ash… “Ash is on his way from Cherrygrove.”

The professor paused in whatever he had been typing on his computer and looked up at Tracey curiously. “You’re worried enough to call Ash in already?”

“It’s not a small trip to make if you’re not feeling well,” Tracey reasoned, “and Gary said he couldn’t deal with Celadon today.”

A frown furrowed the professor’s brow. “Couldn’t or didn’t feel like it?”

“Couldn’t.”

“That’s not like him.”

“That’s why Ash is on his way.”

…

…   …   …

… 

It wasn’t often that Sam dropped everything to head to Gary’s side. Serious injuries and illnesses, he would absolutely drop everything for; but mistakes or instances where the only thing injured was Gary’s pride? Well, it was best to give him some space to deal with it on his own first in those instances. 

But this wasn’t one of those instances.

It wasn’t exactly the other ones either, but skipping class, dropping everything to come home just because he didn’t feel well? That wasn’t like him. And saying he couldn’t do something? Well, that was even less like his Gary.

Besides, this was far from the first red flag this month, let alone the last two years. It was time to actually address the situation instead of waiting for Gary to. The problem was, this was absolutely not a conversation Sam wanted to have, especially not with him being the one to initiate it. It would be different with Gary approaching him, telling him the thing they all already knew - this isn’t the right path. 

That was a conversation he would never dread. Gary seeking his guidance was always a good thing in his book, but with Sam starting this particular conversation… 

It was easy to say “I think you’re on the wrong path” if the current path involved drugs or crime – things that his boy wasn’t doing. The conversation was much different when the current path involved pursuing a degree and a career: the very things that everyone – Sam included – had assumed Gary would one day achieve with absolute ease. 

But this semester had been a vicious cycle of migraines and illness with one triggering the other over and over again for weeks on end, and now this? If Gary was feeling unwell enough to skip his classes and come home then it was time to have this conversation, whether Sam wanted to or not. 

Gary’s bedroom door was closed when Sam reached the top of the stairs. It was quiet beyond the door and no light peeked around the edges. Very much like a migraine, but Gary wouldn’t have made the effort to come home like this if it was just a migraine. He knocked as gently as he could and waited until he heard a tired voice reply, “It's open.”

He sounded beyond exhausted. Poor thing. 

Sam opened the door as quietly as he could and closed it carefully behind him. A pale light appeared at the foot of the bed, giving just enough illumination for him to easily make his way across the room. Gary was already in bed, curled within his little nest of pillows and blankets. He glanced up at Sam when he entered the room only to burrow further under the blankets — he really must have been feeling dreadful and, likely, not just physically.

Sam offered him a smile as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Hi there, little one,” he greeted quietly, the same as he had when Gary was a young boy. Gary’s gaze dropped away immediately, which was odd – that greeting usually brought a special sort of smile to Gary’s face. No wonder Tracey was worried. 

“Tracey tells me you’re not feeling well," he explained unnecessarily. "He and Ash are rather worried.”

“I’ll be fine,” Gary muttered, gaze still anywhere but on Sam.

“I would believe that if you hadn’t flown halfway across the region this morning,” Sam returned gently.

Gary didn't reply.

Sam gave him a moment but still no reply came. Unsurprising: Gary rarely gave in on the first attempt. Prying wasn't quite necessary — usually — and all he needed to do was give the right push. The trouble was figuring out which push was the correct one.

“This isn’t like you," he tried again, "and that tells me that something is very wrong. I was hoping that you would be willing to share just what that is with me.”

Gary was quiet again. Still unsurprising. He sighed after a moment before admitting quietly, “I feel like everything that could be going wrong with school is.”

“What’s going on other than the dissection lab?” Sam asked.

He rather thought that lab had been the tipping point this semester – even if Gary had the stomach for it (which he most certainly did not), the fumes triggered migraines, which were only worsened by being sick. Gary hadn’t mentioned the other courses to him, but Sam knew which ones followed the lab. He couldn’t imagine forcing himself to sit through an organic chemistry lecture, followed by a physics lecture, with a migraine and after being terribly ill. Sam had doubted it would end well, but he’d always hoped that Gary would pull through the way he normally did. 

In hindsight, they probably should have had this talk far sooner.

Gary's gaze was firmly on the blanket in front of him when he finally replied. "I'm failing anatomy." His voice was tight, nearly choking on the words, and Sam's heart went out to him. It was perhaps the worst sort of outcome for such a perfectionist as Gary.

"It's a difficult course," Sam soothed. "It would be difficult even if you had a hundred percent in the lab." He hated to pry, but Gary wasn't taking that course on its own: he was taking several. "With the way your migraines have been, I can't imagine you're doing as well as you'd like in physics or organic chemistry.”

Gary shook his head miserably.

“Failing?”

He closed his eyes and gave a single terse nod. 

Somehow Sam wasn't entirely surprised. How could Gary possibly be doing well in his courses when he was constantly being made sick by them? Not to mention how unhappy and tired he was every weekend. He was less like himself every time Sam saw him and it felt rather like he was losing his grandson. The light in his eyes had dimmed, he was sick more often than not, and it seemed as though all of his enthusiasm — quiet as it often was — had drained out of him.

Sam had anticipated the depression. He knew his boy and he lived for exploring and working with pokemon — being stuck in one place for an extended period of time, forced to do busy work was a personal hell for Gary. While he had expected the misery, he hadn't quite expected the failing classes, but that just proved the point that this wasn't the right path for his grandson.

Getting that message across wasn't quite something that could be done delicately, but with the state Gary was in, Sam thought it best to try.

"I imagine you won't like hearing this," he began slowly, "but I think you should take the rest of the semester off."

But Gary wasn't going to give in that easily. "I have enough time to salvage chemistry and physics if—"

"That would be so much stress on top of you having been so sick these last two months, Gary," Sam interjected. He had no doubt Gary could do it when he was well, but he hadn't been well for weeks, months. Even cocooned in his nest of blankets, Sam could see how thin and pale he was. "Take a break: your body needs it, you need it."

"I can still do it—"

"I don't doubt that in the slightest, but that doesn't change the fact that you need a break now," Sam interrupted firmly. He should have known that Gary would be stubborn, but he was frankly surprised that Gary even had the energy to attempt to argue it. "You can retake the classes and start fresh when you're up to it."

Gary sighed and slowly sat up. He winced, rubbing at his temple — if he hadn't had a migraine when he came home, he would certainly have one come the end of this conversation. Sam felt terrible for that, but the conversation was too important.

"I don't want to keep putting it off," he groaned. "I already put school off for two years, I just want it done."

Sam had heard that sentiment before, last semester when he'd first heard what classes this semester would entail. He had recommended anything other than anatomy at the same time as physics and organic chemistry. One of the music electives perhaps, or even the introductory course to space science, which Gary had expressed interest in. Anything to lighten what was a heavy load for any student that didn't deal with chronic migraines. Gary had said then that he just wanted it over with, that he didn't care about the music minor anymore, that he just wanted to be done.

School wasn't where his heart was, academia wasn't his interest, and there were so many other things he could be doing instead. He didn't need university, not necessarily. Not when it was doing more harm than good.

“Gary," Sam sighed, resting a hand on his grandson's shoulder. "At the end of the day, a diploma is just a piece of paper. You’ve done incredible things without that piece of paper, and you'll continue to, even if you never get that piece of paper, if that's what you want.”

“I don't even know what I want anymore," Gary admitted. "I feel like everyone expects me to be just like you or my parents, or Ash… I’m somehow supposed to be perfect, but if I am, then it’s all because you were pulling strings, and if I’m not…” He broke off with a sigh and Sam felt a twinge of guilt. He'd always wished other people would stop letting the family accolades overshadow who Gary was. “I’m screwed either way… I’m sick of it.”

He sounded defeated in a way that Sam hadn't heard from him before. They couldn't have that. “The only person you have to prove anything to is yourself,” Sam said firmly, “and the only expectations that matter are your own. This path is something you can absolutely do, if that's what you want, but right now you're pushing the limits of your resilience in a way I'd much rather you didn’t.”

“But I don't know what else to do.”

“You don't have to. You've been sick all semester, you need a break to recover first and foremost.” A look of guilt flickered over Gary’s face at the mention of illness but Sam chose not to dwell on it. “You can decide what to do after that. I don't care how long it takes you to decide what to do next, so long as you take the break that you need, not the break that other people want you to take. Now listen closely, because this part is non-negotiable.” Gary’s eyes narrowed and Sam couldn’t quite hold back a fond smile. “Whatever you do long-term, just rest for now. The semester is over for you.” Oh, that wince hurt to see. His hand smoothed over Gary’s shoulder – this was going to hurt and that made it all the more important. “Your credits won’t go anywhere, the university will still be there–”

“I’ll lose my dorm.”

“It’s a shame you have nowhere else to sleep,” Sam retorted, a teasing smile playing across his face. Gary only shook his head, somehow looking even more drained. “You know we love having you home, and Delia loves having both of her boys here. You can go back next year, if that’s what you really want, though something tells me you’d be just as unhappy as you are right now if you did that.”

Gary stayed quiet for a long moment. “You say it like it’s so easy.”

“Technically it’s just turning in a piece of paper and packing up your dorm.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Sam agreed. He was quiet for a moment, carefully weighing his words. Honesty was necessary, but telling his grandson the truth was rarely this difficult. “It won’t be easy, but you came home when you were feeling this way for a reason. You know we’re here for you, that’s not going to change. You’re allowed to need help.”

The fact that he didn’t try to argue told Sam everything he needed to know.

Even with Gary’s head down, he could see the tears forming. It hurt to see someone so resilient, so strong, so smart, so far past their limit. 

They really should have had this conversation sooner.

Unable to just watch and talk any longer, Sam held an arm out. “Come here,” he murmured.

The fact that Gary immediately folded himself into Sam's arms, the tears overflowing in an instant, said so much more than any words from Gary could have possibly. All Sam could do was hold him close and let him have these few precious moments of safety and support, as if he were a young child again.

“I can't do this.”

That choked voice was as painful to hear as the words were. Combined, they just about broke his heart. He could count on one hand how many times he had heard that sentiment from his grandson – in fact, he could lose a few fingers and the fact would remain the same.

But Sam knew how resilient his boy was. Even if Gary genuinely believed that right now, that wouldn't be the case for long. It never was.

“Do you trust me?” Sam asked – wholly unnecessarily, he knew. Gary nodded, face still buried against his shoulder. “Then trust me when I say everything’s going to be alright.” 

Gary took a shuddering breath and nodded again.

“A degree is just a piece of paper,” Sam reminded him, “and you're smarter than most of the people I know with three of those pieces of paper.”

That earned him a laugh, short and hollow as it was. Sam smiled nonetheless: Gary would be okay, he just needed some time.

…

…   …   …

…

The dorm room was stale and still smelled vaguely of alcohol and vomit. Next to him, Tracey wrinkled his nose subtly and immediately every bit of shame Gary had felt showing up at home yesterday and being a sobbing mess to his grandfather came rushing back. From his other side came a concerned coo from Pikachu and sharp intake of breath from his boyfriend.

He knew how it looked. The room was a mess. His textbooks and notebooks were scattered across the floor, along with an assortment of pens, highlighters, and sticky notes, all swept off his desk in a drunken temper tantrum. The blanket still trailed out of the bathroom door, where he had inevitably spent the night in front of the toilet. There were empty bottles from nearly two weeks littering the desk and the counter in the tiny kitchenette: a true testament to just how bad things had been. 

“Why didn't you call me?” Ash breathed.

Because he’d half-hoped that he wouldn't wake up in the morning. His boyfriend didn't need to hear the state he had been in. He just hoped they could get it all cleaned up – and not smelling like vomit and a nervous breakdown – before his grandfather joined them. 

Tracey’s hand landed on his shoulder, warm and comforting despite the shame welling within him. “How much did you drink?” he asked gently.

The last thing Gary wanted to do was answer that question. It made everything too real. But Ash’s hand found his and he found himself taking a deep breath before answering. “A bottle.”

“Of?” Tracey prompted warily.

“Vodka.”

A surprised gasp came from both of his companions, along with a reproachful squeak from Pikachu. His partner's pokemon climbed over to his shoulder, nuzzling his cheek, and suddenly tears were coursing down his cheeks.

“I'm amazed you didn't end up in the hospital,” Tracey said quietly. 

Ash nodded his agreement and Gary took a shuddering breath, burying his face in his hands. His boyfriend was pulling him into his arms in an instant, Tracey's hand staying firmly on his shoulder while Pikachu kept cooing little reassurances and nuzzling him the best he could.

He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t face the mess. Couldn't deal with the overwhelm. Couldn't even think straight. 

Even with his two best friends by his side, he couldn’t do this. 

Those words had apparently tumbled out of his mouth without him noticing, despite hearing his own voice choking out the words, “I can't, I can't.”

Ash’s arms tightened around him and Pikachu’s reassurances came a bit more frantically. 

Tracey stayed next to them, his hand a steadying comfort as valuable as Ash’s hold on him. “You’re not alone,” he said quietly. “You've got two—”

“Pika!”

“Three,” Tracey corrected. “You've got three of us right here, and your grandfather's just on the other side of campus. You've got Delia, you've got Misty, you've got Dawn, you've got Chloe—”

“And you know Professor Ivy and Professor Birch have your back,” Ash added.

“And everyone at Sayda too. You have people who are here for you, Gary. Ask for help when you need it, please. None of us want to lose you.”

That only made the tears fall harder and faster. Were things really at such a point that he’d needed to hear that? It was terrifying to think.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen at all. A biology degree was supposed to be easy for him, even with a music minor added on. He was supposed to be at the top of his classes and going on to get a second degree, working in a lab, continuing to further his career… Not failing classes he knew the material for, skipping his classes more often than not, ending up on academic probation, drinking himself stupid every night, and dropping out bordering on suicidal.

But there was nothing he could do about it except to somehow move on.

He didn’t have the faintest idea of how, or what to move on to. It was all wrong and there didn’t seem to be a way to make it right, and all he could do was stand here in the doorway and bawl his eyes out onto his boyfriend’s shoulder like a pathetic failure. To think he'd called him a loser so many times when they were kids… Ash was a world champion and Gary was a depressed college dropout with a dorm that reeked of alcohol and vomit. 

There was only one loser in the room, and it wasn't Ash.

“Alright, how about we get started on this?” Tracey asked, cutting off Gary's line of thought. “What’s most important here?”

Gary glanced around the room. He genuinely didn’t care about most of what was in the room, but two particular electronics stood out. “Laptop and keyboard,” he replied quietly, voice far shakier than he would prefer.

That drew a tiny smile from both of his companions. “Yeah, that sounds like you,” Ash replied, giving him a quick squeeze.

Tracey was already across the room and at Gary’s desk, carefully unplugging the laptop from the wall and winding up the wire. He set it down atop the lid of the computer before doing the same thing with the keyboard. 

“Ash, could you open the window and start cleaning up in the bathroom?” he asked, to which Ash nodded and left Gary with one last squeeze.  

With Ash gone, Tracey passed Gary a box of trash bags from the shopping bag he'd brought up. “Let's get rid of these bottles before your grandfather gets here, okay?”

Gary wiped his face and nodded, grateful for his friend taking charge. He took one bag and Tracey took another and they both set about cleaning up the trash littered all over the room. 

A few minutes later all of the bottles and trash was out of the way and the only evidence of the other night's breakdown was the scattered supplies on the floor. Gary tied the full garbage bag closed and knelt to scoop up the pens and highlighters, Tracey automatically joining him and gathering up the papers and notebooks. They were set haphazardly atop the desk to be dealt with later while Tracey retrieved their trash bags.

“I'm gonna get rid of these before your grandfather gets here. Pack up or throw out anything you don't want him to see while I'm gone, alright?”

Gary nodded tiredly, once more grateful for Tracey’s instruction as he remembered what exactly was in the top drawer of the nightstand. He didn't need his grandfather or Tracey finding those. He took a few minutes to pack up the clothes in his dresser as well, sandwiching the personal items from the nightstand between layers of clothing, aware of Ash’s amused gaze all the while.

“Shut it,” he said, closing the box and averting his gaze. 

“I'm the one that bought the vibra—”

“Hi, Tracey!” Gary cut him off as the door swung open, his cheeks burning as their friend appeared in the doorway. 

Tracey merely closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don't need to know,” he said, raising his hands placatingly. “I'm just glad to see you embarrassed instead of miserable.”

For some reason, this was the thing to break through all of the overwhelm and Gary quite suddenly found himself laughing. Once he started, he couldn't stop and he gave into it, suddenly feeling lighter than he had in weeks. Nothing was better, but somehow it would be okay. He didn't know how but his grandfather had demanded he take a break and so he was going to do just that for the next month.

Maybe then he would actually be able to believe that it would be alright in the end.

…

…   …   …

…

“He hasn’t left his room all day,” Tracey informed him as soon as the front door was closed behind Ash.

“I figured,” Ash sighed. 

It had been nearly two weeks and Gary… Well. This had been the norm. He spent all day in his room, rarely leaving for food, and mostly wanting to be left alone. He tolerated people sitting with and talking to him, but he was distant and visibly down and trying to hold a conversation was not unlike talking to the wall at times. 

To say that Ash was worried was an understatement. But, to be fair, an entire future that had seemed so certain had just crumbled to the ground. And Gary was doing better than he had been the week before! He was actually talking about it to a select few people – mostly his grandfather and Chloe, surprisingly enough (something about both being professor’s kids) – and he was eating the food that they all brought him. He had spent much of the first week in bed, but this week Ash had found him playing the keyboard from his dorm a few times and had even caught him reading a book twice. 

“Well, at least he has a bathroom in there,” Ash attempted to make light of the situation.

“One less reason for him to leave the room,” Tracey returned.

He had a point. They really did need to get Gary out of that room for more than just a shower in the larger bathroom down the hall. The thing that the professor and Chloe – even his mother – had relayed to him and Tracey consistently over the last two weeks was that Gary felt lost and needed to find himself again. He and Tracey both knew that being in his room all day was not like Gary. If he was going to find himself again, they needed to get him outside. Even if it was just stargazing, they just had to get him outside because that was where he was always the most alive. 

Ash sighed again and Pikachu patted his shoulder consolingly. “Think it’s time for an intervention?” he asked, following Tracey into the kitchen.

“Drag him out of his room and then what, Ash?”

“I dunno… forced vacation? Camping trip? As long as we get him out of the house.”

“Well, we need a plan or we’re never gonna get him out of there.”

“We always go camping down by the shore. Maybe we could do that? We could invite Misty.” Ash suggested.

“I think the fewer people the better.”

He had a point there, but at the same time… “He’s friends with Misty.” They got along well and Misty had a knack for making Gary laugh. Besides, the shore meant surfing and Gary and Misty always surfed together when they had their group beach days. Not inviting her felt wrong, and not just because she was Tracey's girlfriend and his own best friend.

“He’s not exactly feeling social, Ash.”

“But he needs a distraction–”

“He needs time."  

“He needs both,” Ash pressed stubbornly.

“What are you two arguing about?” a tired sigh interrupted them from the doorway.

“We’re not arguing.”

“You,” Ash replied at the same time as Tracey.

Gary rolled his eyes as he headed towards the coffee pot. “What about me?”

“The three of us are going camping by the shore this weekend and we can't decide whether or not to invite Misty,” Ash said. He ignored Tracey’s frown – they had to get Gary out of the house and it would be better if he knew about it ahead of time. Especially considering they would likely be using his gear. It only seemed fair that he had some say in the trip: it would make him less likely to be a pain in the ass either way.

But Gary only shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, fine. Whatever,” he replied flatly, taking a mug from the cupboard and pouring himself some coffee.

Ash frowned. Was that… it?

Was Gary really going to agree that easily? That couldn't be good. Or maybe it was. Agreeing to a camping trip seemed just like his boyfriend, but something about his easy agreement didn't sit quite right with Ash. 

Tracey’s raised eyebrows told him that he felt similarly. “You’re cool with going camping?” he pressed.

A flash of impatience flickered in Gary’s eyes as he nodded, oddly reassuring to Ash in its familiarity. 

“You’re okay with Misty coming?” Ash clarified.

“Are you two going to question every decision like this? ‘Cause if so, then no, I'm not okay with camping—”

“No, no!” Ash quickly assured him. “We just wanted to make sure because, y'know… Everything.”

“We want to do this trip for you,” Tracey added. “We just don't want it to be more than what you're up to.”

"Do you really think I'd be agreeing to it if I wasn't okay with it?"

He had a point there. Maybe the lack of argument was a good thing after all.

Well, if Gary was going to agree that easily… "Hey, why don't we take the Jeep?" he suggested. "Then we can make a big dinner and dessert, and we can bring the surfboards!"

Gary nodded distractedly as he started back towards the hallway. "Yeah, sure."

Ash frowned. What was usually said with excitement had been flat and disinterested, not even called over his shoulder as Gary wandered right back out of the room.

"I don't think he's going to be up to much surfing, Ash," Tracey pointed out as soon as Gary's footsteps had faded.

Maybe, but that didn't matter. They had to at least try, besides… "It's better to have them and not use them than to want them and not have them," he reasoned. That was what his mother always said about the extra food she insisted on packing for them every time they went to the beach. It seemed like the sort of sentiment Gary would agree with, especially if they were driving there.

Either way, Gary hadn't disagreed with Ash bringing them and that felt like a good sign. He might not have been the most enthusiastic as he usually was about camping with him, but he had agreed without argument. Hopefully he would come around more before the trip but, regardless of how Gary – or Tracey, for that matter – felt about the trip right now, Ash was determined to make it the best trip he possibly could. 

Somehow that would bring his boyfriend back to them. 

…

…    …   …

…

Delia had perhaps been the least surprised by everything that had happened — Gary was very much a second son to her, after all. She had known him his entire life and she considered herself lucky to be one of the few people he trusted enough to talk to when something was wrong. She knew him nearly as well as Sam and Tracey did and she knew that, brilliant as Gary was, he'd never cared for academia. He was simply too adventurous for it and she had been surprised by him even attempting university. She had always expected Gary to forge his own way, doing field research on his own terms.

Perhaps his heart wasn't as into research as much as everyone had thought, but that was for Gary to determine, not her.

And that was what brought Delia to his bedroom door every day. He would talk with the right push but Delia was delicate and deliberate with her pushes, carefully following Gary's subtle lead. He would talk when he needed to, but most often Delia simply echoed Sam's refrain: no one else mattered but him right now. Nothing mattered more than him taking a break and recovering, regardless of how long that took.

Sometimes he needed the reminder. Sometimes he needed someone to talk to him about his pokemon. Sometimes he just needed a hug.

And sometimes he needed a mother to pester him to eat something.

No matter what it was Gary needed, Delia was happy to give it.

Today she expected to find him either in bed resting, reading on the window seat, or playing something moody on the keyboard situated at his desk. That was what she had seen without fail every time she brought him food, though the keyboard was slowly becoming the more frequent of the three — an excellent sign in her eyes. But when she knocked on the open bedroom door, she didn't find any of those things.

Instead she found field gear scattered about the floor and Gary sitting on the floor amongst it all, face buried against his drawn up knees, Umbreon by his side. The dark type looked up at Delia's knock and gave a small whine in greeting.

Ah. This wasn't the first time she had handled tears these last two weeks, though they had surprised her no less each time she had seen them. Her heart ached terribly to see someone so bold and confident feel so lost and broken. But Gary would find his way. He always did. Someone so driven could never stay down for long.

Delia stepped into the room and knelt in front of him, running a gentle hand through his hair. “What's wrong, dear?” she asked.

He wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, as though that would undo what she had already seen. “Nothing, just being stupid…”

Delia frowned – that wouldn't do. “Oh, nonsense, Gary,” she chirped as she plopped herself down on the floor next to him. “You’re dealing with a big change right now, it's normal to feel all sorts of emotions.”

“I think I've felt every emotion I could ever imagine,” he muttered.

“I imagine so." From everything she had heard from Ash and Sam — and Gary himself — she was certain that was true. "So tell me, what's got you crying over your gear?”

Gary hesitated but Delia waited patiently, reaching over to fuss with his hair as she did so. It was messy and hung limply in his face just as it had every time she had seen him since Sam had told her the news that he was taking the rest of the semester off. It seemed to Delia that Gary was planning on taking off more time than just the semester but hadn't quite accepted it yet.

Perhaps that's what the tears were about.

“I feel like everything is over,” he finally admitted.

Everything sounded awfully broad but Delia had a feeling she knew what he meant. “Everything, including research and field work?” she asked gently.

He nodded, swallowing hard and already blinking back more tears. The poor thing: so overwhelmed, lost and too exhausted to find his way just yet. Delia wrapped an arm about his shoulders and gave him a gentle squeeze.

“Do you want it to be over?”

“Kind of,” he admitted, voice so uncharacteristically timid. “But I still want to help out at Sayda, and I like helping Birch and Ivy with their projects.”

“It sounds like you don't want to stop field work,” Delia observed. 

“Not entirely, no."

“Well, you were doing that for years before going to school," Delia reasoned. "Why should anything change?” Certainly nothing would change with Professor Ivy — Philena had always been more of an auntie than a mentor, ever since Gary was still in diapers. She positively adored him, just as much as Delia did.

“Because I don't want to do the other stuff. The background, the data analysis, the write ups…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "I don't want to ever write another dissertation in my life.”

Now that sounded like their Gary. Delia laughed and gave him another little squeeze. “You can do whatever you want, dear. If you want to just do field work, I'm sure plenty of professors would love to have you do just that… And you know you don't need an excuse to just go camping with Ash like you boys did when you were teenagers.”

“I guess you're right," he sighed.

She knew she was, but only gave him a gentle smile. “Speaking of camping with Ash… You know he's the one planning this trip, right?”

Gary looked down at the gear spread around them. “I still need to pack.”

“Well then, how about some help?” Delia offered. She had little camping experience but knew enough about the basic gear to offer some guidance through the overwhelm.

“I think I could use that.”

Admitting it was a big step for him but Delia opted not to bring attention to that right now. Instead she ruffled his hair affectionately before turning to the gear scattered about the floor. "Let's start with shelter," she suggested. "Ash said you're taking the Jeep. Why not take your nicest tent?"

Gary automatically reached for a blue bundle and Delia smiled. She had seen that very tent in her backyard many times over the boys' years of dating. Such adventurers at heart, her boys. Even at home with the option of a nice, warm bed, they still chose to camp out together under the stars.

But she hadn't seen that in the entire time that Gary had been in university.

Maybe they would return to it now that Gary was freed of that extra stress. She could only hope.

"It's still quite cold at night…"

Gary reached for a purple bundle this time and Delia smiled. He would be okay, she was sure. He had worked so hard and for so long that he needed a break, but he would be back to himself soon — and this trip was going to be a good start. She trusted her Ash would make sure of it.

…

…    …   …

…

Few things frustrated Gary quite like the sensation of being stuck. It was what had led them to this situation in the first place: being trapped in Celadon, stressed to the point of physical illness every day, all for a career he was less and less sure he wanted with every passing day.

Granted, being home again felt nice. Having the time to sleep off the semester-long migraine was definitely a welcome change. The general malaise, stress, and apathy he had been feeling for months were already fading — another welcome change — and after the weekend camping with Ash, Tracey, and Misty, he was finally starting to feel more like himself for the first time since that very first semester.

He couldn't help but wonder how he had managed to allow school to take him over so completely, leaving him an absolute shell of himself and hardly able to function. All he knew was that he had no intention of going back. It hadn't even taken long to work that bit out, but he was still stuck on what to do next and he was starting to grow restless.

"You don't need an excuse to travel," his grandfather reminded him from his seat on the edge of his bed.

Another day, another conversation about where Gary's head was at. It was oddly comforting, even for someone who generally preferred to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself.

Gary paused in the tinkering he had been doing on the keyboard at his desk. He had thought of it. He had actually thought about it quite a bit.

There was an itch for sure, and it had only been growing stronger. It would become a burning desire and, eventually, a genuine need in time – just as it had for him so many times before. He could hardly ever stand staying in one place, around the same people, for very long. There were exceptions, of course, but he liked traveling and exploring. It stood to reason that doing something he enjoyed so much would help, but there was a problem.  

“.... I don’t want to travel with Ash yet,” he explained to his grandfather.

“Why is that?” It was asked as mildly as ever, neutral and curious, just as he always was when Gary was talking about what he wanted to do. Gary appreciated it more than words could say.

“I can’t deal with the training and the competitions and…" Gary broke off with a sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "I don’t know. I just want to do something on my own. No one else to deal with.”

“You want to be alone," his grandfather observed.

“I feel like I need to be alone. I feel like I don’t know anything any more and I — I just need to figure it out. I can’t do that with other people influencing it.”

He knew how it looked to anyone outside of the tiny circle of people who truly knew him: he was bold and confident, impervious to other thoughts and opinions about him, and always knew his way. At least, that was the carefully maintained image. The reality was crushing pressure from all sides, expectations to be just like his grandfather, to exceed what his parents had done in their research and training careers, to keep up with Ash in his training… Granted, these were all things Gary was capable of, but did he actually want that life?

“It sounds like you need to find your center again.”

Gary nodded slowly. That was exactly it. He wasn't sure what he wanted anymore, but he knew he was itching to get outside with his pokemon. Doing something outside would be far more healing than doing nothing in his bedroom for days at a time.

“Perhaps a journey would help you clear your mind and find your way,” his grandfather suggested.

“Maybe," he agreed, "but that’s kind of a lot of planning and I don’t really have the brain power for that right now.”

Despite the growing itch to travel, a cloud of exhaustion and numbness still hung heavily over him. It was the exhaustion that was harder to combat. His energy levels were better than they had been, but that didn't mean much when mental exhaustion had kept him in bed for nearly a week straight.

How could he possibly plan a whole trip – a long one at that – when he barely had the brain power to decide what to eat for breakfast? How could he manage to travel if he barely had the energy to force himself out of bed? 

Every decision, no matter how small, felt overwhelming. It felt as though there was a voice within him telling him that every decision was wrong and so he found himself teetering on the edge of panic with every one he had to make. It hadn’t even been a week earlier that Delia asking him which granola bars he wanted to bring camping had very nearly overwhelmed him to the point of tears.

A journey just wasn’t realistic right now.

It could be, with some time, but not right now. 

As if he could read his mind, his grandfather replied, “It doesn’t have to be right now, it doesn’t even have to be long or outside of Kanto… but I know few things bring you peace of mind like wandering in wild places. You have plenty of time, you have plenty of gear, and money isn’t a concern. I’ll pay for all the tickets, I’ll even book them for you if you want. All I ask is that you consider doing something that will bring you happiness, answers, peace – whatever it is that you need most right now.”

That was the problem. There were too many options, too many variables, too many decisions, too many places to make the wrong call. Gary felt a migraine coming on just thinking about thinking about it. 

“But I don’t know what that is!” he cried. For his whole life, people had expected so much from him — greatness, following in his grandfather's footsteps, staying ten steps ahead of the competition. His friends and family were harder to pin down. They wanted him to feel better, to act normal, to go back to school next semester, to go back to research… “Everyone wants something different from me and I don’t even know how to function right now, let alone make them happy! What am I supposed to do?”

“Everyone who matters wants you," his grandfather said firmly. "We want to see you smile, we want to hear you laugh. We just want you to be happy, no matter what it is that makes you happy. The only expectation is for you to do what you need to do, whether that's going on a journey or resting at home for another year.”

He was getting tired of resting at home, so it stood to reason that that wasn't what he needed. At least, not for much longer.

Maybe…

Maybe he could just think about a journey. Nothing detailed, just some light thinking about places he wanted to visit, or places he had been to and wanted to see more of. A few locations came to mind but the mere thought of narrowing them down to a single destination was overwhelming.

Gary ran a hand over his face, already feeling the pressure building behind his eyes. This afternoon would certainly be another migraine, but maybe tomorrow could be a day to consider a few places.

He just had to take it one step at a time and have some amount of faith that everything his grandfather and Delia had told him over the last few weeks was right. Things would be okay. They were already improving, slowly but surely.

He would get there. He had to.

…

…   …   …

…

The airport was bustling around them but Ash only had eyes for his boyfriend. They'd had a little going away get together the afternoon before and now it was just the two of them and Pikachu.

Gary only had one bag and three pokeballs. It was the lightest Ash had ever seen him travel. Calusa was different, he had said. It was warm enough that he didn't need extra layers or a thick sleeping bag. The terrain was swampy enough that he chose the smallest tent he had. The training gear that usually went with him even on research trips had been left behind. The laptop and field notebooks were gone too.

It felt strange knowing that Gary was going on an adventure without pokemon being the focus. This time, he was just backpacking. No training. No research. Just traveling through the region for the sake of it.

Ash wasn't worried about his abilities to get through the region, Gary was following a trail, after all — a long one from one end of the region to the other, but a trail nonetheless. The wild pokemon there were nothing Gary couldn't handle with the team he brought with him, and he'd been in more remote and more extreme places.

Still…

"Come back safe, okay?"

"Ash… You know I’m not gonna do anything stupid, right?"

"The number of times I've told Misty that," Ash returned, rolling his eyes fondly.

"I mean it," Gary returned firmly. "It's a well-known trail, it's safe, I'll have my pokemon with me just in case. I'll be fine, Ash, I promise."

"Pi pika, pipichu," Pikachu cooed softly from Ash's shoulder.

Gary gave him a smile and scooped him off of Ash's shoulder into a hug. "I'll miss you too, buddy," he told the little pokemon.

Ash felt a tug at his heart at the sight. His two partners were so close and it had been so long since they had spent more than a few short weeks apart. Pikachu would undoubtedly be sad without his second favorite person around. Ash wasn't quite sure how he himself was going to handle this time apart.

Six months was a long time but he trusted his boyfriend. He trusted that the journey would bring him back to himself. He trusted that the Gary who returned from the trip would be happier and more himself than ever, but the time apart wouldn't be easy.

A voice over the intercom announced boarding for Gary’s flight and they met each other's eyes. Gary pulled Ash in with one arm, the other still holding Pikachu as the three of them huddled together for one last time.

"Write to me while you're gone?" Ash asked, voice tight as his throat constricted and tears came to his eyes.

"I will." Gary's voice was tight too and Ash felt a few tears spilling over at the sound of it.

He held his boyfriend as tight as possible with Pikachu between them and sighed when Gary returned it. The blissful closeness only lasted a moment longer before Gary pulled away with an apologetic smile, eyes watery as he stubbornly blinked back his own tears.

"I'll call you when I get there," Gary promised, taking one of Ash’s hands and squeezing it gently.

Pikachu hopped back onto Ash’s shoulder, squeaking sadly as Gary gave him one last scratch behind the ears. One last smile and a quick kiss, and then Gary was on his way.

Ash watched as he made his way over to the gate and smiled when Gary turned back when he reached it. He blew a kiss and grinned when Gary returned it.

Six months was a long time, but he already had an idea brewing. Gary would be okay, and he would be even better in six months when Ash surprised him at the metaphorical finish line of his journey. Until then, Ash would cling to every bit of communication, every phone call, every text, every letter, every postcard.

Gary gave him one last wave before he turned to board the plane and Ash held Pikachu a little closer, already missing his boyfriend. It would be okay, even if it hurt right now.

…

… … …

…