Work Text:
Lysandre looked at the pokeball in his hand, keenly aware of the Pokémon inside of it and how she was aging. He held it tighter, scared to lose her and the last shred of the man he loved and lost all those years ago. Tears welling up in his eye as he looked down at it, he didn’t want to lose her too. She had been so loving, protective, caring, she was one of the few dragon Pokémon he’d seen to be good with small kids. He couldn’t lose her too. He would have to at some point; he’d outlived at least half of his own Pokémon at this point now her life was nearing its end. When did he start to shake, when did his legs feel like jelly, he dropped to his knees clutching the pokeball close to his chest. Tears ran down his cheek as he remembered the day he received her.
It was a beautiful day, the sun was high in the sky, Fletchling were singing, flowers were blooming yet Lysandre couldn’t appreciate the beauty of it. The light of his life lay in bed and hadn’t gotten up in days, he hadn’t left the bedside since Augustine laid in the bed. He was losing the person he loved most and both men knew it, why did he have to fire that weapon, why did he have to outlive the man he loved more than anyone else in the world, why didn’t he let Augustine in before he went through with the plans of team flare. He was snapped from his thoughts feeling a hand on his own, he gently held onto Augustine’s hand.
“Lysandre.” Augustine said so softly and weakly it was just barely above a whisper and if anyone else were in the room they wouldn't have been able to hear it.
“What is it, Augustine? Anything you need, I can get it or do whatever you need of me.” He asked desperate to do anything that could help his husband in these final moments.
“Garchomp… Take care of her?” It was a request, he didn’t want to make demands of Lysandre, and he was never really a man to tell others to do something like that for him. Though he doubted Lysandre would ever refuse something like that at this point in his life he still wanted to ask rather than tell.
“Of course, Augustine.” He spoke sadly holding back tears knowing what Augustine asked him to do meant he would have to take care of Garchomp for the rest of her long life and make sure she didn’t go on a rampage when she found out what happened to Augustine.
Augustine gave the smallest weakest smile Lysandre had ever seen from him. “Thank you, love.” And that was it. After those words left his lips he stopped breathing, his heart stopped and he was gone.
Lysandre cried for days after, nearly falling into a deep despair like before the only thing keeping him going was Augu-... His Garchomp. She kept him sane, going through so much Garchomp always knew when he was feeling worse and she would come out of her pokeball or stop what she was doing to nuzzle him, lick his cheek, whatever she could do to distract him and make him feel better.
…
Now she was nearing her own death hundreds of years after Augustine's, he knew she was going to pass sooner or later but he was never prepared for it. He wasn't even into the first thousand years of his life yet and he was losing her…
…
He knew he couldn't hold onto her forever despite his want to do so for so long. He let himself cry for a bit longer before pushing himself up back to his feet and turning to walk away from that spot.
He called Garchomp out a moment later, never once putting her back in her ball as they journeyed somewhere familiar, he knew she would enjoy being free from the pokeball for this trip. He noticed her slowed movements, whenever her attack landed, they didn't hit as hard, her teeth had dulled, he frowned every time he noticed something new but smiled when she looked at him. He hoped they'd make it in time.
It took a while, months in fact, but they did make it. Lysandre put down his bag and sat across from a tree. No words were said as Garchomp sat beside him confused for a moment, but she seemed to understand after a bit and went over to the tree sitting beside it and after a few hours, she let out her final breath.
Lysadre looked at the bottom of the tree after a few more hours where it had started to swallow a tombstone that read: “Here lies Professor Augastine Sycamore”. He then looked back at Garchomp’s pokeball, unable to part with it he patted Garcomp’s head and waved to the tombstone as he left. Keeping the pokeball as a memento.