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Pokemon Try Again

Summary:

Two Pokémon trainers in the Unova region falter on their journeys. One right at the start, one at the very end.
Together, they'll get a second chance.

Features original characters, set ~16 years after Pokémon Black/White.

Chapter Text

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[CHAPTER 1]
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In the Unova region, there were several highly qualified, League-certified and -accredited Pokémon ranches. Scrupulously ethical, they worked with love and kindness toward their charges. Exacting genealogical records were kept to ensure their Pokémon were of immaculate heritage. Prospective buyers were diligently, exhaustively vetted to ensure they would provide safe and healthy homes for their Pokémon. Everything was documented, licensed, and above-board.

William Hawthorn was not operating one of those ranches.

 

The car slowed to a stop, and the engine coughed like an old man in hospice care before dying. A Murkrow hopped up from the passenger seat to curl up on the small nest it had made on the dashboard out of discarded food wrappers and strips of aluminum. The man who stepped out wore an off-the-rack suit a bit too large for him, making him look shrunken despite being half a head taller than Will. That Freddie Duchamp managed to get a car out to the middle of the forest amazed and surprised Will every time, four-wheel drive or not.

“Hey, how’s Ivy doing?” Will said by way of greeting.

“She’s doing great. Are you gonna invite me in for tea?” Freddie grinned broadly. He smelled of chewing tobacco and burnt coffee.

Will responded nonchalantly, “Are you gonna pay for it?”

“Ha!!” Freddie spat out the laugh in a harsh, but genuine, bark. “Fair enough. Let’s give the merch a look, shall we?”

Will knew what he was selling, but calling them merch still didn’t sit right with him. He concealed his grimace by busying himself with placing two standard Silph Co. trainer cases down on the hood of his buyer’s car, and opening them.
Both of the cases were full. In each foam hollow rested a Poké Ball. There were twelve in all. Freddie gave them a cursory inspection. “Last batch of the summer, eh. They all grown up?”

Will moved his hand in a kinda gesture. “Most of them molted out of their juvenile skin this last week, but the one in the ball marked ‘seven’ is still waiting; means she’s a little smaller and she’ll be irritable for a while. So tell… uh, whoever gets her that they might want to keep their fingers to themself at first, and then get her a hot bath when the tail starts to split. And if you can crush some eggshell into their food, that’ll help out too. Seven won’t want to eat until after she’s shed, and she can just recycle her old molt, but the others will really benefit from it.”

“Sure, I’ll pass it along”, Freddie lied casually. He snapped the carrying cases shut one after the other, tossed them into the passenger seat of his car, and paid the fee. His Murkrow glanced at the cases occupying his prior seat, then dismissed them.

There was no need to count the money; Freddie was a criminal and a scumbag, but he treated money with a respect that crossed the border into reverence. Some people believed in Arceus, the power of friendship, or hard work. Freddie believed in money.

Will made one last effort, for his own peace of mind. “Just… tell them about the eggshell. Skorupi need calcium carbonate or their carapace won’t settle in properly. That’s why they go for eggs or bug types in the wild at this time of development.”

“Yeah, yeah. Pleasure doing business.” Freddie got behind the wheel and made a couple of efforts to start the car before the engine wheezed to a semblance of life. “I’ll send the next order in a couple weeks.”

Will didn’t bother watching the car vanish down the dirt road and into the forest, and went back inside instead to flop down with his laptop. It was a Clifford. It had been brand new, years ago, and was well more advanced than what he’d ever actually used it for. But it had come with the sponsorship.

He opened up his files and made a brief note: Sale 123: Sale of 10 Skorupi (4F 6M). clients wanted fresh adults, un-evolved. parents sold separately (ref sale 122). Sale of 2 Scolipede (1F 1M), same client willing to do a spot buy after being informed of their racing pedigree: Probably as mounts. Last of both Skorupi and Venipede batches. Ranch empty while I decide what to do for the fall season.

Exception: 1 Venipede (M) remaining. Small and late hatching. Reason unclear. Something might be wrong with him developmentally. Bad for image to sell. Not sure what to do with him. (I hear they eat them roasted with chili sauce in certain regions, so I might just want to cut my losses)

The thought of food reminded him of that particular need, so he went to the kitchen to handle it. Bread and a few sausages. Nothing special. He left one of the sausages on the skillet while he ate, pausing only briefly to turn the heat off once the unfortunate piece of meat was thoroughly charred and his cabin reeked of burnt fat, and then he took the plate out back to the ranch grounds.

William owned a decent chunk of land in Pinwheel Forest, and had cleared enough of it to make a modestly-sized ranch. He had a large barn, a couple of storage sheds, a single-level cabin, and a training field that’d put most gyms to shame.

 

He’d been an Elite, once. He’d earned his badges. Walked the Victory Road. He’d had his pick of sponsors. He’d honed himself and his companions against the best Unova had to offer, conquered the League Conference, and stepped up to the final challenge for professional Pokémon trainers – the Elite Four and the Champion.

And he had failed.

Then the next year, and the next. Most people in his shoes would’ve become an Ace in the League’s employ, a Ranger, maybe even get invited to a gym and groomed for a Gym Leadership… but those offers never materialized. The sponsors dropped him like toxic waste, and he needed to take on more independent work each year to keep up with the costs. Eventually he had to face the music and step back from competitive training entirely. Since then he had spent years slowly but surely trading, adopting, or selling off his old competitive stable. Now his personal team was down to two. Three, if you counted Ivy.

Tal was his Talonflame, and had already been a mature Fletchling when he had caught her, years old and on the cusp of evolving to Fletchinder. She was the first wild Pokémon he’d caught at the start of his journey as a trainer, and by now she was a grand old dam. The grays in her plumage had faded to a dirty eggshell, her once vivid and fiery orange feathers were now the color of cantaloupe, and she carried herself with a reserved dignity. When she wasn’t sulking, anyway.

Will pursed his lips and whistled a quick note at her. Tal was cooped up outside the barn, and raised her head to glare at him with her yellow eyes. Only after she’d done so for a suitable length of time to showcase her displeasure with him did she deign to get up and walk over. She had brooded over the clutch of eggs and had helped rear them into adolescence with all the fussiness of a motherly schoolmarm. Even if she knew that they were to be sold off, that didn’t make her any less moody when the time actually came.

“I know you didn’t want them gone so soon, girl, but the client was getting impatient. Come on, I carbonized it just for you.” He wiggled the plate holding the ruined husk of what had once been a savory venison sausage.

Tal leaned in close and made a clicking noise with her beak a couple of times as she smelled the peace offering. She then reached out languidly and grasped the burnt treat in her beak before stalking back to her roost, pointedly facing away from him as she curled up to share her treat with the leftover Venipede.

Will sighed. ‘It's a start,’ he thought, ‘She'll get over it; she always does.

Tal didn’t end up coming inside for the night, preferring to stay outside with the Venipede. With none of his Pokémon present or in need of attention, he settled in for his customary evening of reading and theorizing. He made sure to keep abreast of developments in the competitive scene and made notes on possible team makeups.

It had gotten to be a familiar routine. He’d go over his finances even though he could recite most every number by rote. He’d make plans. He’d get up whenever he needed to refill his tea, to relieve himself, or to check and double-check his immaculately prepared journey pack. Anything he could to avoid the thought that stalked him, the one that said this is your life now.

It usually worked.

 

As night fell Will was reading on his computer, relaxing and enjoying the sound of the rain spattering on the roof. He kept his notebook handy while reading about the latest news and debates in the Trainer community. Rumors of a clutch of Larvesta being put up on underground auction. The eternally recurring debates about whether the Paldea region was diluting the word ‘Champion’ by using it as a title equivalent to other regions’ ‘Elite’ status. Monday Morning Trainers theorycrafting and gossiping around Leader Clay’s recently announced retirement. He mostly disregarded the scene politics to focus on the parts he cared about and he wrote while reading, filling up a notepad slowly and steadily.

‘Volcarona. obviously an amazing possibility. if there’s an auction Freddie will know. Tal’s getting old. Don’t want to replace her, but may need to, and these are a top shelf pick for it. problem: rock weakness, just like with Tal. Training a Volcarona for both battling and flying would take a lot of 1-on-1. would probably need separate flight mon. if the auction rumor is a bust there is no chance. the whole damn species is protected and their nesting habitats are a freaking state secret.’

‘Toedscruel unacceptable ice weakness, not native. low priority pick for cross-region travel + v.expensive for purchase or trade because they are being over-hunted. while seen recent success in doubles alongside some Koffing variants it’s probably due to its novelty factor. V counters easily.’

‘Excadrill making waves again. Max was an ideal suicide lead. miss ya, buddy. could get another one, but Max languished here. it’s all clay until you hit bedrock and bedrock here is all limestone. he was going crazy without harder rocks to dig through. he’s much happier with Yakon Industries over in Driftveil.’

‘Forretress might fill a similar niche: sets up, spins, and explodes, because screw stealth rock only I should get to have stealth rock. v.strong contender for singles. problem: training Pokémon to self-destruct willingly is time-consuming. fire weakness requires counters. stealth rock has fallen out of favor in league battles.’

‘Desdemona used Trevenant to good effect when she won last year’s con. bastards are nasty, might as well use one myself. hex and life leeching and destiny bond as a final screw you. problem: frankly I have no idea how to find one. would need to ask a specialist. counters likely to develop.’

Will had reams of notes like that. The only constants in his plans were Vee and Ivy. He was reading the forum entries on the second-years and scoffing at a trainer who’d made seven out of eight badges in his first year and was readying for next year’s Conference. ‘This kid thinks he’ll win the Con because he’s just evolved a Garchomp? Cynthia’s ace has defined the global meta around it for decades; everyone who’s serious has an answer to- oh, hey!’

He started a little when Vee’s shrill cry alerted him from outside. Not a ‘warning!’ or ‘help!’ cry, but the ‘come out and look!’ one. Satisfied and somehow smug, yet piercing enough to get his attention right away.

His ace had been out in the woods somewhere; she ranged the ranch grounds and the wilds beyond as she pleased. He had an inkling that her idea of their territory and the actual legal boundaries of his property were only tenuously linked, and she patrolled the borders of her hunting grounds for days at a time to keep away any potential encroaching intruders. And, of course, to hunt.

She had taken Tal out during the height of summer, and they’d returned together with a Sawsbuck: A majestic ten-pointer in his prime, so large Will was amazed that even his enormous Talonflame could carry it at all. His freezer still had ground meat in it even after having fed himself, Vee, Tal, and a whole lot of growing baby Pokémon over the season.

He put his laptop down on the table and went to open the front door, curious about what she’d caught this time.

“What’ve you got there, Vee?”

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Caitlyn was shivering. She was cold, she was wet, and she was terrified. Every minute or so she glanced behind her at the hunched predator. Any time she stepped in a direction it didn’t like, it appeared ahead of her. Its face was blank and inscrutable, but its gaze was always focused squarely on her. And its claws looked sharp.

The distance it maintained was just close enough that she was always aware of it. If she stopped, it advanced on her. When she started walking again, it fell back. And it was so silent, she hadn’t heard a single noise from it under the sound of the rain drizzling on the leaves. No shuffling in the underbrush, no vocal utterances. It was just there.

She was being herded, and she knew it. But what was there to do? She could try to run, but to what end? It could overrun her whenever it wanted. Besides, she had gotten so turned around she didn’t even know which way they were headed anymore.
Visibility got worse as the dusk faded into true night, and before long she was stumbling blindly. At times she’d trip over a rock or a root, or her clothes would snag on a branch or bramble. On two occasions she almost stumbled upon Bug types huddling in the undergrowth, though they quickly scurried off. Each time she was slowed down she hurried up just a little bit to return to her marching pace, so her pursuer would know she wasn’t being intentionally disobedient. She couldn’t see it anymore, except for when it showed itself to correct her direction. Its dark fur blended into the forest canopy.

By the time she emerged from the treeline and saw the lights in the house, she almost laughed with relief. Even knowing everything she’d heard about the breeder, even knowing she’d been caught trespassing, it seemed infinitely preferable to plead her case and beg for mercy from a human rather than the stalker in her peripheral vision.

When they were almost upon the house, the Weavile behind her let out a shrill, piercing cry that made her blood freeze. She stood stock still, expecting to hear it rush her through the tall grass at any moment, to feel its ice-cold claws.

Instead the door to the cabin opened.

“What’ve you got there, Vee?”

The man looked to be in his early thirties. He was unshaven and had a mess of unkempt black hair. Wearing just a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, he didn’t strike the figure of a devious criminal mastermind that Caitlyn had expected.

His eyes were a different story. Their cold, analytical gaze searched her, the surrounding environment, the Weavile behind her, and then finally locked onto her again. She shrank into herself, stuck between the man and his threshold guardian.

He took a slow breath before saying “Would you like to come in for some tea?”

She hesitated, then nodded.

The man looked past her. “Good work, Vee. I’ll take it from here.”

The Weavile let out a disappointed huff before vanishing into the tall grass so quickly and completely that after a mere couple of seconds there was no sign of it anymore. The man turned in place and went inside, waving a hand behind him in the ‘c’mere’ motion.

As she followed up the steps, he was already at the back door. “Tal!” He followed the word with a sharp whistle. The sound of something large moving quite quickly followed, and as he stepped back an enormous Talonflame squeezed itself into the house. It was twice as large as the average for its species, and had to move gingerly and carefully in the indoor space.

She initially felt a jolt of terror at being cornered in the room, but it subsided as the Pokémon looked at her and blinked its eyes slowly. This one just seemed... safer than the Weavile, even though it was a bird of prey and the largest of its kind that she’d ever seen. It made some soothing cooing noises as it stalked up to her and lifted a wing to scoop her in close against its heated body. The motion was tender and very careful.

Its white belly feathers were soft and felt as warm as sitting right by a fireplace. She cleaved to it instinctively, her shivering subsiding a bit as her aching nerves screamed at the contrasting experience of suddenly being hot instead of chilled. The Talonflame’s wing folded over her, enveloping her in the feeling of safety and warmth. The sound of the rain outside, now no longer an oppressive force, was instead relaxing. All that combined with the adrenaline crash after having spent all afternoon being stalked by the evil-looking Weavile, and she closed her eyes. By the time she opened them, some time had passed and a cup of hot tea sat before her.

The man sat across from her, elbows on the table and hands together before his face, fingers interlaced. She reached a hand out for the mug, and sipped it. Even lightly scalding her lips and tongue didn’t stop her from enjoying the feeling of warmth.

He waited for her to finish drinking, then spoke. His tone was even. “I’m William.”

“...Caitlyn.” she said.

“Vee picked you up from the forest.” It wasn’t a question. “You have to forgive her. She can get territorial about trespassers.”

Her plan to scout out the ranch and see if she could make off with any of the poor, abused baby Pokémon seemed a lot less clever than it had from the safety of her home. 'Of course he’d have protection.' “Um… I wasn’t— that is to say I only— Uh, I mean…”

He let her flounder, watching patiently over his fingers. It was the Talonflame that stopped her from spiraling, its wing squeezing her for a moment with a soft accompanying coo. It took a slow, exaggeratedly deep breath by way of demonstration. She followed suit, then took another one.

“I was just… looking. I was going to look, that’s all.”

He continued to watch her unflinchingly. Only a slight “Hm” indicated that he even heard her response.

She felt like the walls were closing in, and her breathing sped up again as she pleaded. “I… It was a mistake! If you just let me go, I promise I won’t…”

“Why did you try to sneak onto my property?” His tone wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t light. It was a neutral request for information. It unsettled her. Anger would’ve been preferable. At least then she’d know where she stood with the man.

She tried to speak, found herself stumbling, and had to take another steadying breath. “You’re an illicit breeder.”

“Unlicensed.” He corrected her.

“Uh. Right.” She wasn’t entirely sure of the difference, but it seemed to matter to him.

He unlocked his hands and put a palm up in a ‘go on’ gesture.

“And… you know, illicit – er, unlicensed breeders operate pokémills?”

He snorted at that, with some wry amusement. It was the first time he’d shown emotion. “Where did you get the idea that’s the sort of operation I’m running?”

She found her voice now, and spoke with more confidence as she said “Because why else would you not get a license?”

He shrugged. “Licensed breeders can only sell to League affiliates. Farms, trainers, gyms, other breeders, the Rangers, what have you. Independent buyers still need to register ownership with the League when they buy from them. And people who prefer to not deal with the League, for whatever reason, are willing to pay a premium to avoid the hassle.”

“Right, like criminals!”

He shrugged again. “Hm. If you please. Either way, you’re out of luck. I tend to breed to order, and I’m between batches at the moment. The only Pokémon I’ve got are my personal ones.”

She wasn’t sure what to say in response, and settled for “Oh.”

William sighed. “You’re, what, sixteen? It’s… fine. I’m not upset. You’re not in trouble. I don’t expect you to be smart at your age. If you’re hungry there’s food in the fridge. You’re free to use the bed if you want. Tal can help you search for your Poké Balls tomorrow.”

She blinked with some confusion, and ignored the jibe about her intelligence. 'What Poké Balls?' “I’m sorry?”

He motioned to her hip, where trainers usually kept their team. “Your Poké Balls. I don’t see any on you, so you lost them on the way here, right?” He furrowed his brow. “Or... did Vee confiscate them?”

Her response was nonplussed. “I… don’t have any?”

“You came through the Pinwheel forest without any Pokémon?” He sounded mildly incredulous.

She nodded.

His incredulity and voice rose a notch. “…Are you even a trainer?”

“I- I am!” She protested. “I just… don’t have any Pokémon at the moment.”

He stared at her for a few long seconds before getting up. “Alright. We’ll take you back in the morning. Castelia?”

She shook her head. “Nacrene. I came from the south.”

“Hm. At least it’s closer. You get some rest. Tal, keep an eye on her.”

She made one single attempt to get up herself, but the Talonflame simply squeezed its wings together and gently but firmly folded her back into its warm embrace, and that was that. Curled up in hot and astonishingly soft feathers, Cait fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

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