Chapter Text
Gladion had been afraid for most of his life. Afraid first of the dark; a simple fear that was never truly overcome with age as it was in most children. And then it was his mother. After that, it was being alone. He had been afraid that Null would get hurt. He had been afraid that he wouldn’t pass. He had been afraid for a long time, indeed. He had never grown out of fear, as so many people had told him he would. He had never seen it as anything other than self-preservation. A way to stay safe. If it was something bad enough to fear, it was something bad enough to hurt him. Right now, he felt that fear. Fear that the man sitting across from him was going to strike him or hurt him in some manner.
He looked rather scuffy, and his expression wasn’t at all kind. He dressed like someone who didn’t particularly appreciate the wellness of others. (The difference between them was that Gladion dressed as if he didn’t care about himself - which he didn’t). He was glowering down at the boy as if he wanted to harm him. At least, that was Gladion’s initial thought. It took him several moments to realize that this was just his neutral expression. The man swung his hand out and the younger boy flinched, backing up further against the cold stone wall that he’d been sitting against when this man had walked up to him. All that Gladion had heard was the patter of raindrops against the ground and on his clothes. This man hadn’t said anything yet. This changed, however, when Gladion realized that the man hadn’t touched him.
“You look like you’re freezin’. And honestly, did ya think I was gonna hurt ya or somethin’?” He spoke in a laid back tone, often using shorthand terms and speaking half-words. “Come on. I don’t know what you’re doing all the way up in Po Town if you aren’t part of Team Skull, but as bad as we are I’m not gonna make you sit out in the rain. I’m Guzma, by the way.”
Gladion frowned, taking the hand that was outstretched to him (and had been for several minutes) and rising to his feet. He was silent, until Guzma spoke up again.
“Hey, are you okay? You haven’t said a word and you’re shaking real bad,” He commented. Gladion glared at the white-haired man.
“I’m fine. I’m not even shaking that hard.” He was blatantly lying, though. His wrapped his fingers around his wrist, trying to steady the tremors in his hands. It didn’t work well, but it was something. He was hungry and tired, and he wanted to take care of Null. Normally, he would have not followed this man to his strange home where a villainous team lived, but this was not a normal circumstance. He knew that if he were to stay out here in the rain and cold, he would die. He could hardly get up even now. Guzma seemed to notice this and hoisted Gladion over his shoulder. The child let out a squeak, slamming his fists into Guzma’s back.
“What the hell!? Put me down!” He protested, squirming slightly.
“Woah. You’re one light kid,” Guzma commented. It almost seemed like he couldn’t hear Gladion. Clearly, this man was good at ignoring people. He must have had a lot of practice. Guzma carried Gladion to a large, run-down mansion. Gladion pouted, brushing off his shoulders to indicate his displeasure with the ride.
“What is this place? It’s more of a dump than half of these houses.”
“That’s my place you’re talking about. Welcome to my humble abode. In fact, welcome to the family. You wanted to join Team Skull, right? That’s the only reason somebody like you would be here.” Gladion nodded his confirmation, picking at a loose thread in his jacket pocket.
“Yes.” He stated simply, blinking slowly. Type: Null wiggled in its pokeball, voicing its approval for the decision. Gladion was rather surprised; he had expected the pokemon to detest this. With a yawn, he followed Guzma into the run-down mansion. This was home now, it seemed.