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It really figured that the day after Misty’s sisters had all left town was the day she’d wake up with a pounding headache, an ominous pressure in her sinuses, and a chill seeping into her bones. The thought of trying to drag herself out of bed was daunting, but it wasn’t like there was anyone else to run the gym in her stead.
Unless…
No. She couldn’t ask that, no matter how much she'd love to see him right now. She’d just have to tough it out.
She stood, a wave of dizziness nearly making her drop again, and headed for the kitchen. A cup of coffee would at least warm her up and give her a little more energy.
She could handle this. She was stronger than some little cold.
Tracey’s phone buzzed. He wasn’t exactly surprised to see a text from Misty, but its contents, on the other hand…
I hate to ask you this, but can you come run the gym today?
He reread the text about a dozen times to make sure he’d read it correctly. Why was she asking him? She loved the Cerulean Gym, and she didn’t like leaving it in anyone else’s hands—not even her sisters, who had proven themselves capable of handling it. Tracey, on the other hand, couldn’t even remember the last time he’d battled.
But she was asking him, and there was probably a reason for that.
(Unless the message was from Daisy, swiping Misty’s phone to get him over there for some other, unrelated thing, but Daisy had just sent him a photo of a fancy-looking cocktail, so he had a feeling she was elsewhere.)
He typed out a response: What’s going on?
While he waited for her answer, he went to find Professor Oak. If Misty needed his help, then he’d have to let the professor know he was leaving for a while.
And as much as he loved the professor, Misty was his best friend. He would always be there when she needed him. Not enough people had, and he couldn’t change that, but he could at least be the one who did show up for her every time.
And then came her reply: Not a big deal, just a cold. But it’s annoying and distracting and I’ve had to give out three badges already >:(
Despite his worry, Tracey let out an amused snort at the emoticon. I’ll be right there, he typed out, hitting send as he approached Professor Oak. “Professor? I’m heading to Cerulean, Misty needs me. Anything you need me to take care of while I’m out?”
“Just stay safe, my boy,” Professor Oak said with a smile.
“I’ll do my best, Professor,” Tracey promised, heading out.
He didn’t have to tell Misty that he highly doubted he’d do much better against her challengers than she’d been doing today—it didn’t matter. She was sick, and that was what he would show up to take care of.
He picked up his bike from where it rested against a wall outside (unchained—nobody would think of stealing it) and then he was off, using the hill to swiftly build up momentum. He didn’t plan on stopping until he made it to Cerulean.
“Misty, I’m here!” Tracey’s voice rang out, sounding slightly out of breath.
Misty didn’t move from where she lay by the pool, the fingers of one hand absentmindedly running through the water. Tracey knew where she’d be. He could find his way just fine.
Sure enough, he soon came into view above her, shopping bags in hand, and knelt at her side. He looked down at her, earnest brown eyes brimming with concern, a calloused but gentle hand resting on her forehead. “How’re you doing?”
“I’m fine,” Misty replied. She gave his bags an amused glance. “Did Professor Oak ask you to do some shopping or something?”
Tracey shook his head. “This stuff’s for you. I got you some medicine, herbal tea, your favorite snacks, and a bargain bin romance novel we can laugh about later. I’ll read it to you if you want, but if there’s a bad sex scene I’m skipping it. We’re not having a repeat of last time.”
“That doesn’t sound like you’re planning on looking after the gym,” Misty said.
“That’s because I’m not,” Tracey replied. “I’m here to look after you. I know the gym’s important to you, but you can close it for a day. The challengers can wait. You’re more important.”
Misty glared up at his stupid, sweet face. It was hard to argue with that, but she wanted to. “I told you, I’m fine.”
“Right,” Tracey deadpanned. “That’s why you haven’t moved since I got here. You’ve just been lying by the pool this entire time for fun.”
“Shut up,” Misty said, giving him a weak swat. “You’ve been spending too much time with me.”
“That’s too bad,” Tracey replied with an easy smile. “Because I’m not planning on leaving you alone today.”
Misty sighed in exasperation. People usually underestimated Tracey, thought he was a meek nerd and nothing more, but he’d been bold from the moment she met him and he’d only gotten bolder. He’d never been intimidated by her temper, not even a little bit. It was almost annoying.
She stood up, ready to prove she really was fine, only for her knees to buckle after one step. Tracey leaped to his feet in time to catch her.
“Whoa, that was close,” he said. “You sure you’re okay?”
Misty could’ve sworn her heart skipped a beat. Heat rose to her face that she would swear was only from fever, or the embarrassment of what had just happened. Definitely no complications to her feelings about her best friend. No thrill at the reminder of how strong he was at all. “Fine, you win. We can watch a movie on the couch or something.”
He gave her a relieved smile. “Sounds like a plan.”
After getting Misty settled on the couch, Tracey browsed the collection of DVDs on the shelves until he found the one he was looking for—one of Misty’s favorite comfort movies, a cute coming-of-age romcom about a spirited girl and the mild-mannered boy next door learning they had more in common than they'd thought possible. It was sweet, and Tracey had seen it a million times, so he was happy to put it into the DVD player and then head to the kitchen, filling the fancy electric kettle and turning it on.
While the water was boiling, he went to check the cupboard for the psyduck-shaped mug Misty refused to admit she loved, but continued using. He instead found it in the sink, a few pale brown drops of alleged coffee that was mostly sugar and creamer in the bottom, and set about washing it, scrubbing diligently. No effort was wasted when it came to Misty. She deserved the best.
Once it was clean and dry, he put a teabag in it—chamomile, perfect for easing cold symptoms and encouraging rest—and waited for the water to reach a boil, drumming his fingers on the counter.
He really hoped Misty was going to be okay. She was a little too quiet right now, and he didn’t like it. He’d much rather have her brimming with energy, commanding her pokémon in battle without hesitation, all passion and vitality.
But then, in that case, he probably wouldn’t be in Cerulean today, and for some reason that thought made him a little sad.
The water was ready, and he carefully poured it over the teabag. He had to suppress a sigh at the realization it would need to steep for a couple more minutes. He thought he was usually pretty good at waiting patiently and being alone with his thoughts, but presently, it was bothering him, because his thoughts were confusing and Misty had asked for his help and he didn’t quite know how to feel about any of this.
He liked being there, even now, idly bobbing a teabag just to feel like he was doing something. Was he allowed to like being there, no matter the circumstances?
Was it wrong to find satisfaction in taking care of her?
One way or another, he was there, grabbing the honey from the cabinet and stirring it into the tea, the way she liked it. At least there was comfort in knowing he was being helpful.
Satisfied, he brought it to the living room. Misty was curled up under a blanket, nose and cheeks pitifully red, but perked up at the sight of him. And then her gaze drifted to the mug he was holding. "There's other mugs in the cupboard, you didn't have to wash that one."
"I know," Tracey said. "But I know this one's your favorite."
For a moment she just blinked at him. Then she looked away. "Come watch this movie with me, dweeb."
"Anything for you," Tracey said, sitting beside her and handing her the mug.
"Except running the gym," she replied, but her tone was fond. Teasing. She immediately leaned against him, like she had a million times over the course of their friendship, her head on his shoulder and her body warm (so very warm) against his. A little thrill shot through him at the feeling of her soft skin on his, the way it always did, but the feeling quickly melted into contentment, also the way it always did.
She smiled at the mug before sipping her tea, and there it was. That was the reason he would always take the time to make her tea in her favorite mug, didn't even need a moment to think about whether or not it was worth the effort. Anything that made her happy was worth it.
"Thanks, Tracey," she murmured. "I can always count on you."
"Except to run the gym," Tracey joked.
"This is better," Misty said. "I like having you here. You're the best pillow in the house."
"Wow, I'm honored," Tracey said. "Even better than the spheal one?"
Misty nodded against his shoulder. "It's soft, but you're soft and warm."
"Not as warm as you." Tracey stroked her back, resisting the impulse to pull her closer. He wasn't sure when he'd started wanting to. "Get some rest, okay?"
"Let me finish my tea first," she said stubbornly, a cough cracking her voice. "You washed this stupid, cute mug for it."
"Okay, okay." He couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. Misty was always Misty.
He rested his head against hers, just slightly, turning his attention on the movie. The two leads were stargazing on the beach, talking about their dreams as a pod of lapras swam slowly past. The girl had just realized she didn't see a future with the boy she'd been chasing, that she wanted something else. Someone else.
"I love this part," Misty said, so softly. They'd watched this movie so many times together, and she'd never said that before. It sounded almost like a confession. "It reminds me of when we were traveling together."
Tracey could see why. The beach, the lapras… that one night he couldn't sleep and had wandered out to shore to watch the waves, hoping it'd help, then Misty had joined him and asked if he knew the constellations out there.
Flattered by her interest, he'd spent a while pointing out the ones used for navigation, the ones he knew best, and then realized he'd forgotten a few and started improvising. She'd called him on it, and they'd shared a laugh, and looking back, he was pretty sure that was the moment he'd started thinking of her as his best friend.
Had that meant as much to her as it'd meant to him?
"It reminds me of that too," he said. Why did he feel a little shaky? "You know, I think this might be my favorite part."
"You like it more than the big dramatic kiss in the rain?" Misty asked, her tone sounding a little more casual now, but still holding a strange gravity.
"Yeah," he said. "The big dramatic stuff is nice, but I really like these quieter moments where they can just be. Nothing intense happening, just two people sharing a personal moment."
They were quiet for a moment, Misty drinking her tea, Tracey running his hand up and down the length of her spine. "I feel the same way," she finally said.
She moved to put the mug down on the coffee table before settling against his side again with a yawn. He didn't stop himself from pulling her closer this time, both arms around her.
She nestled against his chest with a soft sigh. "You're so silly, Trace. I love you."
He wasn't sure if she realized she'd said it. Her breaths were deep, slow, and even, despite being accompanied by the occasional sniffle. She'd fallen fast asleep.
He shook his head fondly, looking down at her. "I love you too," he said, the words rolling off his tongue as naturally as breathing.
Misty woke up enveloped in warmth. She didn't feel particularly compelled to raise her head or open her eyes, and it was only when she both heard and felt a familiar snore that she realized exactly where she was.
She was in Tracey's arms, cushioned against his sturdy chest and soft belly. His hold on her was relaxed, but still felt secure.
She didn't quite remember how they'd ended up in this position, but it didn't matter. She was content to stay that way, his warmth chasing away the chill that had come over her. Their bodies fit so nicely together, and she wanted to enjoy it.
And then a tickle in her throat turned into a coughing fit and Tracey woke up with a snort, immediately rubbing gentle circles between her shoulder blades.
The fit finally subsided, leaving her a little out of breath, and she slumped against him again.
"You okay?" he asked, voice still thick with sleep. "Want me to get you anything?"
"I will be," she said. "Just… stay where you are. Please."
"Anything for you," Tracey replied without hesitation. "I'm here for you as long as you want me here. I'm not going anywhere. Promise."
As much as it sounded like sleepy rambling, she knew Tracey was a man of his word. He always kept his promises.
For some reason, she found herself thinking about that night on the beach, looking at the stars and laughing together. Did Tracey ever think about that night? Did it matter as much to him as it did to her?
She'd had enough of pining, of waiting for oblivious boys to put two and two together. She had to say something.
"Do you remember that night you showed me the constellations?"
She felt him tense slightly, as if surprised, but he quickly relaxed again. "Of course I do. It meant a lot to me, you know? I think that was the first time I really believed someone wanted to be around me, or cared what I had to say."
Misty looked up at him. He'd said that so calmly, like feeling unloved and unwanted for that long wasn't a big deal.
But then, Misty knew how that felt. She'd been raised by sisters who were just kids themselves, who resented her for reasons she had been too young to understand (it wasn't her fault their parents had left Daisy in charge and never returned, but they'd needed someone to be angry at and their parents were gone). She'd eventually had to shoulder the responsibility of the Cerulean Gym, on her own, left behind while her sisters and her friends went off on their own adventures.
Except Tracey. Sweet, steady Tracey. She loved her sisters, no matter how much they drove each other crazy. She loved Ash and Brock, even if Ash was too scatterbrained to remember to call and Brock had yet to stop hitting on customer service employees. But Tracey was different.
Tracey was a goofball who liked bug-types way too much, somehow comically oblivious despite observation being his whole thing, and worked so hard he occasionally forgot to shower, but all of that really did feel like nothing in comparison to how big his heart was, the beauty of his mind, and how much she could trust him.
He'd taken the time to wash her favorite mug. She didn't know why she was stuck on that.
"Misty?" he asked tentatively. "Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?"
She shook her head. "No, you didn't. Just… thinking."
"That's pretty dangerous," Tracey said. "What's on your mind?"
"That night… I think I fell a little in love with you." There it was, the words out in the open. So close to his chest, she almost thought she could feel his heart speed up. "I know you always thought I wanted Ash, and… you weren't wrong, at first. But he's not who I want anymore. He hasn't been for a long time."
Tracey was quiet. She wasn't sure what that meant. But he wasn't tense. He didn't seem surprised. He wasn't moving to leave, their friendship ruined.
Just in case, because she had a type, she clarified, "It's you, Tracey. I want you."
"Oh," Tracey finally said, voice soft. "That's what you meant when you told me you loved me."
"When I what?" she demanded, a coughing fit immediately following.
Tracey patted her back. "Easy, easy. It was earlier, when we were watching your movie. You fell asleep right after you said it, so I wasn't sure if you remembered."
It should've been a relief, but Misty was almost annoyed by how calm Tracey was. Was this not a shock to him at all? It had taken her so long to tell him how she felt, the least he could do was react a little!
"I love you too, by the way," he said, a slight tremor in his voice. "A lot, really. You're my best friend, and you're so brave and passionate and smart, and more loving than anybody gives you credit for. And you're beautiful. People don't tell you that often enough."
"Trace…" Her breath nearly caught in her throat. She'd never thought she would hear him say those words to her in that way. "Why didn't you say so sooner?"
"I didn't think you'd ever feel the same way," he said. "I know you've had to turn down other guys, and I didn't want to risk what we had by putting that kind of pressure on you if there was someone el—"
Without thinking, she grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss, hearing him squeak in surprise before relaxing into it.
When they broke apart, she took in the sight of his sweet face. He looked like he still hadn't quite processed what just happened, wide-eyed, but he was smiling too.
"Honestly, Tracey, you are the dumbest smart person I have ever met."
His smile brightened into a goofy grin, and with a gleeful laugh, he was pulling her in for round two.
She was so glad she'd asked Tracey to come.
And she really hoped she hadn't given him her cold.