Gible stared at his trainer from the doorway. Not for any particular reason. Sometimes he just liked sitting on the floor and staring at passersby.
It was a popular Gible pastime. Like digging holes. Or digging other holes. Or the best of all Gible pastimes, digging big holes. Gible wasn't allowed to dig holes in the house, so he settled for option number two.
"Is he still sitting on his bed?" Wooper asked as he waddled by for the third time. Or maybe it was the second? The dragon-shark didn't want to sound racist, but he literally couldn't tell the difference between the two. His trainer really needed to get around to nicknaming them.
Either way, one of the Woopers - Maybe both? Can Woopers clone themselves? - was asking for a status update.
"He hasn't moved. But he has been moaning. So, progress." Gible responded, pointing at the schmuck that was sitting on the edge of his bed and staring blankly at his phone.
As if to prove the land shark's point, their trainer groaned loudly and miserably as he chattered to himself.
"Is it really this easy? I mean, still - but - it's - there's nothing boosting my charisma, right? Maybe this stupid thing's bugged-" He mumbled as he started swiping through the device, confusion and shock evident in his tone. Gible looked back to Wooper and shrugged. Maybe it was a weird human ritual.
"Where is food provider?" A third 'mon piped in. Both of them turned towards the new arrival, seeing Pawmi. The electric marmot was waddling his way down the hall towards the room.
"Pawmi want brekky." He said as he patted his stomach with his paw. A grumbling noise emphasized his point.
Gible nodded. He was getting a little peckish.
"In a bit, Pawmi. Trainer will bring new hot dogs when he is ready." Gible appeased the electric rodent while patting for it to take a seat at his side. Pawmi tilted his head, shooting the dragon a questioning look, before shrugging and taking a seat to their trainer's emotional collapse. All three Pokémon sat there for a few minutes, watching the man who fed them hot dogs slowly lose his mind.
"¿Qué pasa con el tráfico?" All three heads turned to the new voice. Its swarthy Latin tone belonged to only one person in the house. The other Wooper.
"Oh, hey, Wooper. We're just sitting here watching Trainer." Gible explained.
"¿Por qué?" Wooper asked. The other Wooper shrugged and started explaining it to his doppelganger. It was really weird how Wooper and Wooper not only looked exactly the same, but also sounded exactly the same. He was starting to put more stock in his Wooper cloning theory. Actually, now that he thought about it…
"Hey, Pawmi, do Wooper and Wooper look and sound the same to you, too?" Gible whispered to Pawmi as the two were distracted. Pawmi, realizing that it was a discreet matter, looked over Gible's shoulder at the two talking Woopers.
Confirming that they were distracted, the Electric-type turned back to the ground-type and nodded once.
So it wasn't just Gible! Good, good. For a moment, he thought he was racist! Then that would mean he'd be one of those Nazos that Trainer hated. And if Trainer hated Gible, that meant his hot dog ration would go down. And that would be terrible.
"Shit. Shiiiiiit. I just - I just sent it cheekily. She didn't even respond - she just told me to shut up. How the hell is this a love confession?" Marcus whispered, running his hands through his hair. He was so focused on his current dilemma that he didn't even realize he had garnered an audience that had been watching for the past half hour.
"What are you dumbassses doing?" The final Pokémon announced himself as he popped open a nearby air vent and crawled out. Snom looked at the gathered Pokémon with an annoyed glare. His nap had been interrupted by their chattering. The AC vents wer the only place cold enough for him to sleep.
"Waiting for breakfast."
"Sitting."
"Also sitting."
"Contemplando las miserias de la vida."
Snom took in all the answers before taking a deep breath.
"Okay, your dumb ass already has food set out for you. And you two, why the hell are you just sitting here while Marcus has an existential crisis? And you - I don't fucking know what you're saying. Learn fucking Kantonian already." Snom shot at each of them, to a varied set of reactions.
Pawmi was the first to act, since he was very 'hungy'.
"Foooooood!~" The marmot shouted as it galloped down the hall and tripped down the stairs. He was fine; he just rolled to get down the stairs faster.
"La concha," Wooper said before spitting on the carpet and walking away. They all watched as the Wooper proudly walked away and hopped down the steps. Wooper's legs weren't big enough for the stairs, so they had to hop.
Snom, seeing that the group was trimmed down to two, looked at the remaining Pokémon questioningly.
"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen Wooper that pissed," Gible said, rubbing his chin. Wooper nodded along.
"Right? Like, I get Snom's a jerk, but what he said was uncalled for."
Gible nodded. It really was. You'd think a Ground-Water Pokémon like Wooper would be a lot more chill.
"I have not had enough sleep to deal with you idiots. Just get the hell out of here." Snom grumbled as he tried to crawl back into the vents. Only to be interrupted by the two Ground-types and their burgeoning curiosity.
"How are you tired? You barely leave the house, Snom." Gible pointed out. He then added another point -
"Also, you don't move when you're in the house either. You just ride around on a snowball."
Wooper nodded along once again. Gible usually made a lot of good arguments.
The Ice-Bug bristled at the insinuation. The gall of these two morons. He did plenty!
"If you must know, I was spinning cold, goopy silk and sticking it in all the chairs that Mewtwo likes." That took the whole night! It was not easy getting around this house as a bug about the size of a soccer ball. Hence, the genius idea of snowball travel.
Wooper and Gible shared a look.
"You know he's gonna kill you for that, right? I don't think Trainer can stop him." Wooper asked the snowbug. Seeing that they were unable to grasp his genius, Snom merely chuckled at the poor fools.
"You two sure are a pair of simpletons. For you see, if Mewtwo deigns to kill a lowly 'bug' like me, that means he is no better than -" The house shook, as a corona of Psychic might covered every square inch and every loose fiber. Then, a pressure overtook the air, as though a deity had looked upon their house and dared them to breathe in its presence.
'INSEEEEEECT!' A telepathic scream rang through the house, and though there was no actual verbal component, Gible could feel his heart tremble at the volume. And his bones. And his skin. And his eyes. And his ears.
In fact, he stuck one claw in his ear and picked at it. Nothing came out. Wow, it even rang his ears clean.
"On second thought, I may have assumed a bit much regarding this whole thing," Snom reassembled the cover and dove back into the darkness of the vents. Silence settled into the house, the only thing audible being Mewtwo's stressed breathing that was making its way from downstairs.
"Wanna go eat?" Wooper asked the other Ground-type.
"Oh, yeah, Snom said food was ready," Gible sure could go for a hot dog. Sitting and watching built up an appetite.
\-\
So, my morning did not start out great. Last night was pretty good. Charmed Panacea's family, had a heartfelt conversation with a pretty girl affirming our friendship, and sent her a cheeky text goodnight that she responded to in her usual way.
Woke up, checked my phone, and I see a blaring banner message with two words:
Capture Successful!
I'll be honest. For a moment, my heart stopped beating. I lost my breath, and I whited out. I must have been doing something, though, because by the time that Mewtwo's rampage shook me out of it, I'd somehow been able to confirm the truth.
The credits were in my account.
At some point, last night… Amy Dallon said she loved me.
And she meant it. I wasn't using any of the slavery nonsense, so the only way she could have been captured would have been… a genuine emotional connection.
I'd wished I had more time to process it, but I had to stop Mewtwo from killing Snom. I didn't even get why he was mad. Snom's silk was really soft, and made the chairs nice and cool. Still, I had to stuff the poor shivering bug in his Poké Ball and take him to school, on the off chance Mewtwo decided that killing him was actually a good idea.
The front doors of Arcadia were situated in an open courtyard. Nothing extravagant, this was still an eastern seaboard city on its last legs, but it reminded me more of a college campus center than a high school. There was a little unchecked spot behind a toolshed out behind the gym building that I usually teleported to, before walking around and making a show of seeming like I got off a city bus.
"Marcus!" Dean waved at me from the front doors. He was joined by a couple of other preppy kids and unfortunates like me who got roped into spending the Friday after Thanksgiving at school.
I am starting to understand why Amy hisses whenever he's around. As cool as he is, Dean tends to insist upon himself. Like volunteering me to help with some kind of school cheer event. As his friend, I said yes because that was what friends do. Past me was an idiot.
Also, why was there a cheer event in December? Well, it started back in 00's, otherwise known as the aughts. Arcadia, like most schools, kept students occupied about once every two months with some big event.
Yeah.
That became a very… awkward situation when Endbringer attacks happened about every three months. And maybe my math is terrible, but odds are usually at least one attack is within a week of some kind of school event. Not copacetic.
So instead, schools try to jam as many things in between attacks as they can. Try not to think about it too hard. That's what the principal told me when I asked him. Chill guy. He might be a supervillain, though, with how perfectly coiffed his mustache is.
"Dean, it's freezing, and it's Thanksgiving weekend. Why the heck are you so happy spending it at school?" I asked the teen as I walked up to the front door. I got a bunch of agreement grumbles from Dean's preppy friends and the unlucky bastards they roped into helping. The hidden Ward just chuckled and pushed open the door before walking in.
"I'm just in a good mood, Marcus. Besides, I like getting things crossed off my to-do list. Feels satisfying." He said as the group followed him in. We made our way to the gym, and listened as the Student Council assigned tasks. Dean gave himself - and by extension me - the unenviable task of hanging up decorations since we were the tallest.
"Hey, kids, sorry I'm late. Looks like you're already getting set up, so just shout if you need anything." The teacher who was supposed to supervise finally showed. She looked a little hungover if I was being honest, but that could just be because she was tired. I probably looked strung out, too.
"No worries, Ms. Evans. We just need the key to the gym storage so we can start hanging up the banners." Dean explained.
"Of course, it's right here…" The teacher said as she searched her pencil skirt. Dean and I watched for a few moments as the lady then checked her handbag before patting herself down.
"Dang it, left it in my coat. Give me a few minutes to run back to my desk." She explained. Raising my hand, I stopped her before she got anywhere.
"Nah, I got it, Ms. Evans. Dean, you got your credit card on you?" I asked my friend. He looked poleaxed at the non-sequitur before nodding.
"Why?" I just gestured to hand it over. Trusting fool that he was, the other teen handed over the platinum card that was all metal. Some kind of steel print, I think. Either way, it would serve my needs nicely.
Stepping up to the locked double doors, I shoved Dean's card into the edge where the handle was. A little finagling, and I got a corner behind the latch bolt that was keeping it closed before pushing it back.
"Ta dah." I said monotonously, pulling the door open before walking behind the other one and freeing the latch so I could open it as well. I then handed the card back to a shocked Dean.
"You know how to pick locks, Marcus?" He asked.
"I mean, by definition, yes? You just stick a power drill in the keyhole and yank with some pliers. But that wasn't lock picking, it was just a little trick to open things like janitor doors since they're all sort of made the same way. A door that swings out, with a fairly open edge, and no dead bolt." I explained.
"Well, as long as you kids put everything back when you're done, you should be fine. I'll go ahead and check on the others." Ms. Evans said before stepping away. It was probably a good thing, because Stacy and Lucas were arguing over some kind of streamers, and I think it was going to end up as confetti sooner or later.
"Hey," Dean said as we stepped into the closet.
Yes, I am completely aware of how that sounds. Amy must never find out.
"Yeah, what's up?" I responded as I started looking for the box of banners. The PE teacher said everything in here should be clearly labelled, though given the taped names on the boxes, I had a distinct sense we had different labeling conventions.
"Well, it's just…" Dean paused for a moment as he grabbed and moved a box labelled 'Field - Semester 1'.
"I got a weird text from Vicky this morning? Or last night I guess. And it said that if I took your side, she was going to need a break from us. But like, it wasn't the way she usually did it? It was sort of like she was making a joke. But she doesn't joke about our relationship, so…" He trailed off again, trying to prompt me for an answer. I moved aside a box labelled 'Health Class?' before sighing.
Honestly, I was trying not to think about the whole mess with Ames since this morning. So, I redirected his question with one of my own.
"Dean, why do you stay with her when she literally yanks your chain like that? I mean, I can't be the first person asking." I pointed out. It's been about three months since school started and they've been on break twice. I thought the whole on/off again thing was supposed to take course over years.
The Stansfield heir rolled his eyes as he moved another box in the storage room.
"Yeah, you, every male friend I've had, and my Dad on three separate occasions." He mumbled before turning his attention to me fully.
"Look, you're redirecting. I'd like to know if my friend did something that's going to necessitate buying roses and taking Vicky on a walk through her favorite route in the park. Cause otherwise, bit of a dick move, you know?" Well, he wasn't wrong. But still, I really didn't want to talk about my feelings alone. Which meant I only really had one option.
"Fine. I'll answer your question if you answer mine first. Come on. You said everyone's asked you this, so you gotta have a rehearsed answer by now." I prodded him, much to his chagrin.
I watched as Dean weighed the two options in his head, and came out with the conclusion that he was better off playing my game than being stubborn. I was a certified dumbass, according to Mewtwo. And that meant I could be more stubborn than a brick wall.
"Alright. That's… fair, I guess. I mean, it seems to be making you nervous, so it's a fair trade." He acquiesced. He took a quick glance around, making sure we were alone, before going up to the door and closing it. Now that our privacy was guaranteed, he relaxed and faced me. Personally, I thought this was a bit overdramatic for something that he'd told everyone already.
"So… the reason I stay with Victoria. Even with all the breaks. And the arguments." He began before taking another deep breath.
"Just, make sure not to tell Vicky, alright?" I sent him a suspicious look, which caused him to course correct immediately.
"It's not bad. Nothing bad. It's just a little embarrassing. I swore Carlos, Dennis, and my Dad to secrecy on this. So, promise me that you do the same." He clarified, his bright blue eyes boring into my brown ones. It was surprising to see him so severe. Dean always took things seriously, but he lacked that natural intensity that made you feel it when you looked at him.
"If it means that much to you, I won't tell Vicky. Now spill, if you wanna hear my end." I was being completely sincere. Not only was my curiosity piqued, but I generally tried to live by my life motto of 'Don't be a dick.' And Dean thought this was important, so I treated it as important as he did.
"Thanks. Then… I guess it sort of all starts with the fact that Vicky's my dream girl." He admitted, flushing a bit as the words registered in the silence between us. Of course, Dean wasn't going to let it just sit at that.
"It's not just that she's pretty, or whatever. I mean, she's beautiful - but that's not why -" He rambled a bit.
"Dean, we have like fifteen minutes." I reminded him that we had a job today. He cleared his throat in mortification.
"Right. Sorry. She's… she's my dream girl. When I'm with her, it's not just that I'm happy or excited, but that everything feels right. That this was what we were meant to be. Even when we're arguing, or can't stand the sight of each other for a week, I have that feeling." He wet his lips before continuing.
"What, and that's enough for you?" I asked the teen. It was weird, hearing him like this. The guy wasn't cautious - he was a literal teenage superhero - but he tended to try and plan things through. He has a binder for each class's syllabus. In high school. When he already had a pretty valuable job lined up when he turned eighteen.
"Well, yeah. Shouldn't it be? It's faith, man. I've got faith that Vicks feels the same way about me. The same way that I have faith that it's all going to shake out in the end. It was a leap of faith to talk to her, and ask her out in the first place, you know? It's not any different than that. Why would anything change when that's how it all started?" Dean concluded. I sat there and digested it for a moment. Dean, as unsurprising as it was for an empath, was a romantic.
He loved Vicky, Vicky loved him. That was enough for Dean. The rest was all just details.
'Just details,' I repeated to myself as I pulled out my phone. The message was still glaring at me - but unlike when I woke up, it didn't make my heart jump in fear. There were a lot of things about myself that I wasn't proud of. My past life, to start. This whole love 'em and leave 'em shtick that I wasn't even sure about anymore.
But Ames loved me. And the me that I showed her? It wasn't any different at its core from how I'd been before. Wasn't that enough?
"Fuck it, here. This is why Vicky's doing - whatever it is you two call your shit." I grumbled, tossing my open phone at Dean after switching over to the texting app. I trusted him not to look through any of my other stuff.
I then turned back to my boxes, trying to find the stupid one with the pennant banners and other assorted things for the school spirit celebration.
"Huh. Well, I can see why this would make you upset. Vicky accidentally said 'I love you' after our fourth date, and I just sort of blubbered, and she wouldn't talk to me for two weeks."
Oh, right, he didn't have the literal meta-knowledge fed to me by my stupid companion app.
"That's… Dean, trust me. I meant it as a joke, like a tongue-in-cheek 'Haha love ya' thing. But Ames…"
Dean nodded, picking up what I meant immediately.
"She took it seriously? Guess she must have called you." He mused. I swallowed the nervous saliva that built up in my throat.
"Something like that. So that's why I'm so off today. I just… really don't know what to do." I mumbled. Dean chuckled, coming to my side and helping me with a particularly large container that we pushed to the side.
"I mean, you probably know what I'm going to say then." I scoffed. Yeah, no shit. The guy could not be more of a Glory Girl simp if he tried. Which was a little insulting, considering it was actual love, and not idolisation. Let's rephrase that. This guy could not be more of a romance simp if he tried.
That sounded a lot better.
"Yeah, and how do you think Ames would take me making the decision to go on faith?" I asked him sarcastically. He winced a little but then straightened out.
"It sounds bad when you put it like that. But think of it this way, Amy is opening herself up to you. Don't you think you should meet her halfway? At the very least, tell her why you think you can't return her feelings." My friend reasoned. It was my turn to wince after hearing that.
"That's… that's the problem, man. It's not that I can't -" It's that I shouldn't, I finished mentally. It was the slowly encroaching feelings that I'd been pushing off for a while now. Those weird moments where my heart raced when I thought of Ames. How she always lit up when she saw me, even if she still tried to pretend to be a sourpuss.
"Then what's stopping you? It sounds like the only one who doesn't want this to happen is you, and even you're not sure." Dean prodded again. I exhaled deeply through my nose.
"There's stuff I have going on. It - I -" I fumbled for an explanation. How I really didn't deserve it. How I'm really not as good a person as Dean thought I was. How the only thing that Ames would get from me was tragedy, and that she deserved so much better.
That was the whole reason I was in this mess: I wanted to selfishly believe I could be loved without giving up anything myself.
But that's not really what love was about, was it? One-sided love was just adoration. Reciprocation was the name of the game, and I hadn't realized it until now.
The only way to get Amy Dallon to love me was to love her first. I'd failed before I even began.
"I think you should talk to Amy about this. I'm not really sure what else I can say to convince you." Dean said, lifting up the final box. It was clearly labelled 'Cheer Spirit School Spirit'.
"Yeah, I really should, shouldn't I?" I mumbled, half-registering my friend's advice as I went to open the door for him.
I grabbed the handle, turned, and pushed.
Only to nearly faceplant right into the door. Confused, I tried again. Still nothing. I paused, looking at the handle that refused to move. There wasn't a locking knob on this end, just another keyhole.
Oh.
"Dean, did you remember that we didn't actually unlock the door and I jimmied it open with your card when you closed it?" I asked my friend whose mouth was forming an 'o' as he realized that he may have made a terrible mistake.
"No. No, I did not."
I stepped back and grabbed my phone. No bars.
'Are you fucking kidding me?' I mentally screamed. This was an interdimensional slaving device, and it couldn't get a signal in a fucking Gym supply closet?! I forcefully calmed myself down with some Psychic meditation techniques. There was no point in panicking, for now. It wasn't like we were in serious danger, but being stuck in a supply room for a while was going to suck.
Our only options were waiting for someone to find us or for me to call Mewtwo. Who was still edging towards murdering me for this morning.
I turned to my friend, who was also looking at his phone and hoping it had a connection.
"Dean, this is why your girlfriend keeps breaking up with you."
"Damn, that's hurtful, dude. Why do you gotta be like that?"
I don't know, why do you have to be the unluckiest person I've ever met?
\-\
I stepped into the hospital lobby, finally free from my morning's obligations. As annoying as it was to be stuck in a supply closet, Ms. Evans found us pretty quickly, since we were banging on the door for a solid ten minutes. Another ten for her to run out to her desk and back, and we were out and putting up banners for the rest of the morning.
All the while being teased for being 'literally stuck in the closet' by Lucas.
Yeah, gay jokes are even more funny when the actually gay guy you know tells them, too. Or so everyone else thought. I just coped and seethed as Dean sarcastically laughed it off.
"Hi, I was wondering if I could see Ames? She said she was going to be here today. I'm Marcus." I introduced myself to the nurse at the station. The woman eyed me warily before turning to her computer and typing something. After reading whatever she pulled up, she eased up on her suspicion.
"Sorry about that. We get a lot of weirdos asking about Panacea, so just needed to make sure you were all clear. I can't have you walking around unescorted, so if you could just follow me?" She said, standing up and motioning to the door at the side of the kiosk. I pushed through as she buzzed me in, meeting her on the other side.
"Kathy, nice to meet you." She said briefly before heading deeper into the hospital. I followed her a step behind, since she was the one leading.
"It's a little weird that I can just walk through the emergency wing because I know Ames," I subtly questioned the nurse. It was pretty weird that I could just show up and ask, apparently. Walking around with Ames as a visitor was one thing, but this felt more like I was interrupting the hospital. Nurse Kathy just waved it off.
"Panacea gets some privileges, plus she's a volunteer, so it's not like she has to adhere to the employee handbook. Besides, if we banned visitors, Glory Girl would probably have broken a window trying to sneak in. It's easier this way." Huh. Well, score one for Vicky's recklessness. Who knew it actually had benefits?
We walked down a few more halls before Kathy dropped me off at the same break room I was at the last time.
I waited a few minutes as they apparently paged Ames somehow.
"Well, most of them are in for dehydration or bruises, so it's not the worst. It's perfectly fine for you to take a break for a bit, Amy." A man's voice said as he opened the door. In walked a pair of people. The grumpy girl I was here to see, and a man in a dress shirt and slacks with a lab coat thrown over it.
"I know, but still - Oh. Marcus." Ames said in surprise as she saw me. The doctor said he'd leave her alone with her visitor before patting her on the shoulder and stepping out while closing the door behind him. Despite seeing her not even a day ago, I felt my mouth dry at the prospect of the conversation.
I was tempted. So sorely tempted just to abuse my power and use my telepathy to do a surface scan of her mind. To know and understand her thoughts right now. Did she understand that our relationship had changed? Did it matter? Did she even want it to go further than it was now?
Did she really love me?
But in the end, I didn't. I think that despite Dean having moments of boneheadedness unmatched, he was deeply insightful in ways I couldn't even begin to fathom. It was a matter of faith. And in this case, action.
"I love you, Ames," I said outright. This was it. I put myself out there. I know that before, I'd pretty clearly put my feelings into words, but this was the capstone. It didn't erase anything before just because I said it aloud, but it was the last nail in the coffin. There was no turning back from this.
"You're overthinking something again." I shrugged. Maybe I was. Still - I needed to hear it.
"Maybe. I was stuck in a closet with Dean for like an hour today, so he may have gotten into my head a bit. I still wanted to say it, though. Feels right." I explained, tugging at my coat nervously. Ames fidgeted a bit. I could tell she was trying to motivate herself.
"Yeah, sounds like something Dean would do. I…" She trailed off for a moment. Then, either due to my hyperfocus on her, or maybe it was just the bloodrush from my heart pumping like crazy, she snapped herself together.
"I love you, too." She finally said. I felt… elated but also exhausted. It was such a big moment but the impact was so little. Or it just didn't hit me yet. Maybe I was disassociating, trying to process this morning's events still.
I actually laughed out loud, a breathless huff more than any sign of happiness. Amy joined me once she realized what was going on.
There we were, two teens laughing like idiots because the nervous tension in our bodies was all released at once. Eventually, we calmed, and reality settled in. This was uncharted territory for us.
"I - are we -" I half-started, only for Ames to preempt me.
"If you want to… I feel like that's the next step, isn't it?"
Yeah. The next step. Something as simple as putting one foot in front of the other. That was what our relationship boiled down to. It didn't have to be anything complicated, just what felt right.
"Then… can I take my girlfriend to lunch?" I asked, hopeful. She was still working, and as much as I loved her, I knew where Amy placed the most of her life's value.
She just smiled.
"I can make some time."
\-\
A/N: Okay, I know I said there would be female agency in this fic, but I needed to actually get them into a relationship first. Also, I'm still workshopping it. I'm trying to have Amy do things, but not in a way that just makes her replace the typical guy role in media, which is sort of how Taylor plays in most fics.
It's sort of difficult because Amy is literally a healer, a very passive combat role. I was thinking of making her more Nightingale-esque, but that may not stay.
So, let's talk about this chapter. If I called the last chapter the first climax of the arc, then this is the falling action. It is here to set up the new normal. We, as readers, already knew Amy had feelings, and we knew Marcus had feelings, and they basically confessed in the last chapter in an emotional blowout.
Now, we're confirming their new relationship status, and the new problem - this is their first girlfriend/boyfriend. What do?
Then, hopefully once we get them to understand more about their own relationship, the problems rear their head, could be external pressure, could be internal.