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Midblossom really was a beautiful town. Grian could see where it got its name from, flowering fruit trees were swaying in the gentle breeze and the ground was littered with flower petals. Even the occasional dying flower in the cracks of the cement, or in the occasional abandoned flower bed, looked incredible. It felt like he was walking into a dream.
“Wow,” Bdubs voice echoed his thoughts, and Dewdrop bubbles his own agreement. “They really went with the whole ‘blossom’ thing, huh?”
“Can’t say they didn’t nail their theming.” They joked as they walked, taking a lap around the main streets to really soak in the sights. Sure, they were there for the gym challenge, but nothing’s in the rules saying they can’t enjoy their travels.
Grian is too busy admiring the architecture of a local café when Bdubs stops right in front of him. He bumps into his friend’s back with a small sound, reaching up to steady Dewdrop on his shoulder before looking at what has caught Bdubs’ attention.
Grian’s mouth suddenly goes very dry.
It’s not the tallest building he’s seen, but it feels like this one towers over him unlike any before. Its purple paint imposes a feeling of building dread that Grian can feel gnawing at his stomach and urging his feet to run away as quickly as he can. He holds Dewdrop that bit tighter.
“This must be the gym.” Bdubs’ voice doesn’t carry any of the same emotion that Grian is currently feeling, instead it’s lined with anticipation. “Let’s see…” He squints, bending down to look at the sign in front of him. “Midblossom gym, the Poison Palace.”
“Poison?” Grian’s voice is small, and he can feel Dewdrop trembling on his shoulder.
“A poison gym!” Bdubs whistles, looking back up at the pokéball insignia christening the building. “A challenge! I like it. How about you, Grian? You ready for this?”
It takes too long for Grian to recognize that Bdubs is even talking to him. His heart is racing in his chest, and he is worried Dewdrop might go tumbling to the ground. He picks Dewdrop up, cradling the small pokémon to his chest and offers Bdubs a shaky smile.
“Uh, maybe we should wait?” Bdubs’ eyebrow raises, and Grian is backtracking quickly, “We just walked all the way here, and we haven’t slept in an actual bed in like, three days, maybe we should rest for the night in the hotel?”
“Hey, you getting cold feet on me now? Throwing in the towel so quickly?”
“What? No!” Dewdrop squeaks and Grian makes sure to not crush him. “I’m just thinking logically.”
“Grian,” Bdubs’ voice has gone soft, a hand landing on his shoulder and all the teasing in his voice disappearing. “It’s okay to be nervous. You’ll feel better if you just go ahead and do it! Don’t hesitate, jump right into it, all that good stuff. Trust your pokémon and your abilities as a trainer.” Bdubs purses his lips. “Maybe those children PSA shows have a point.”
It startles a laugh out of Grian, and it does help ease some of his anxiety. “Uh, well, maybe we can just check out the gym? I don’t know if Dewdrop is up for battling today.” He can feel Dewdrop huff against his palm.
“Fine, fine, scaredy-cat. Let’s go look at the first step to me becoming champion.”
The gym inside is pleasantly cool, a cheery, bald man waving them over. “Let me guess,” he starts, looking the two men up and down, “Are you the parents of a trainer that just came through here? She was getting real spooked out; I keep saying this is a poison gym, not a ghost gym but does Leader-”
“No!” Bdubs cuts him off, an affronted huff in his voice. “We’re trainers! Challengers! Ready to take on the prince of this poison palace.”
“Ah, I think you mean princess.” The man chuckles, “Although, she would probably smack anyone who called her that to her face so maybe don’t.” He clears his throat. “So, you’re trainers? I guess the older league started, then?”
“You bet! And we’re going to be the first to get this badge.”
The man cheerily laughs again, clapping his hands a few times. “I love to see it, I love to see it! Now, only one competitor can go in at a time, so who will be first?”
Before Grian can even explain that they were just checking out the inside, Bdubs is turning to him excitedly, holding out his fist to him vertically. “Let’s fire-water-grass. Winner goes in first.”
Dread returns to Grian in an instant. “But, Bdubs, we weren’t going to-”
“Oh come on, let’s just try. We’re already here. The worst case scenario is we lose and try again tomorrow.”
Grian really should have argued, or just offered to go second and left. But before he knows it he’s holding out the hand sign for water against Bdubs’ fire and he’s being ushered to the entrance of the… maze? Why is there a maze in a pokémon gym?
“Most gyms have some sort of challenge,” Bdubs had been explaining to him around one of their campfires while Grian poured potion carefully over Professor Beak’s wings after a day of training in the forest. Grian remembers the challenge at Turrfield stadium, the fairly straightforward task of herding a bunch of wooloos into a pen. He never quite understood the point of the challenges, if he was being honest. Why should his sheep herding skills be tested, or his sense of direction? He’s here for a pokémon battle, for goodness sakes! Not to wander aimlessly through poorly lit, too narrow hallways. He has to criticize the paint choice as well: he understands purple is symbolic of poison, but he is squinting around every corner to try and not run into a wall.
He’s holding Dewdrop close to his chest, taking short steps through the darkness. He turns around a corner - only to scream in horror. Towering above him is the angriest looking Arbok he has ever seen. It’s coiled up on its tail, body flared out and fangs bared. Red eyes practically glowing in the surrounding purple.
Grian falls backwards, holding an equally terrified Dewdrop the whole way, and scrambling until his back hits the wall. How did a wild pokémon get in here? Let alone one this big ? He’s shielding Dewdrop as well as he can with his body, bracing for an attack from the Arbok and hoping Bdubs or the gym leader or that bald man or someone heard him scream and is coming to help him.
It’s only when his thoughts have had a chance to calm down, and his arms start to cramp from the tension, he realizes he’s uninjured. And one peak at the Arbok shows it hasn’t moved. At all. It’s perfectly frozen. Grian is still catching his breath, but he unfurls ever so slightly, still cradling Dewdrop to his chest, and stares at the pokémon in pure confusion.
“Hello?” If he wasn’t still kind of terrified, he would be embarrassed at how his voice cracks. “Are you- Arbok? How did you get in here?”
He doesn’t get any sort of reaction. Not even a blink. He glances down at Dewdrop, big eyes, just as confused, staring up at him. He uses the wall to get himself back on his feet, never taking his eyes off Arbok, even as he sets Dewdrop down on the ground with the silent order to stay put.
Grian takes hesitant steps forward towards the gigantic pokémon, pausing to watch for any reaction. He can almost touch it, and it still hasn’t moved! “Arbok?” He whispers, going against his better judgment and reaching out his hand to touch the upper tail. Only he doesn’t feel scales. It’s smooth, cold, unliving .
Grian is even further confused than before.
He takes a step back, squinting up at the Arbok’s face now that some of his fear has dissipated. If he moves his head, he notices how the shine in its eyes moves, and he notices that the body of the “pokémon” isn’t moving with any breaths.
“A statue?” He mutters, turning back to look at Dewdrop, who shrugs his shoulders in response. “Why… would there be a statue here?” His fear has fully shifted into disbelief, his arms widely gesturing to the fake Arbok in front of him. After a few more moments of huffing at it, he turns and scoops Dewdrop back into his arms, setting him back onto his post on his shoulder.
He sets back into the maze, only for a few corners later to once again be caught off guard by a gigantic pokémon. This time a Gengar, its mouth open wide in a smile, and a tongue lolling out of its mouth, ready to gobble up any passing trainers. This time, though, Grian stares the pokémon down, taking in its details and its lack of movement. Another statue.
This trend continues the whole way through the maze, every dead end is decorated with a realistic pokémon statue. Annoyed at first, Grian starts to appreciate them after the fourth or fifth one’s he’s nearly run head first into. They make the dark walls more tolerable, the seemingly endless maze a bit more entertaining. Even so, he’s grateful when he sees a brighter light at the end of one of the corridors.
He takes a steadying breath, walking towards the exit to the maze and out into a far more spacious room. Thank goodness, he was getting claustrophobic. It’s just a basic battle arena, the details made with white paint on the floor. Across from him, the gym leader sits.
She’s lounging royally in a throne almost as big as her. Her unruly, fire-orange hair drapes across her shoulders as she smiles at him, her lips painted a matte black. The spotlights fixed on her almost make her pale skin look green, and he has to wonder if that’s intentional or not. What he knows is intentional is what looks like purple stitches splitting her face down the middle, continuing down her right arm and curling around her wrist. Their lack of depth reveals they’re just facepaint, however, not an actual injury she sustained. She has a deep purple blouse on, the collarbone a transparent mesh, and right above she wears a choker with a little skull pendant. She’s wearing gray shorts that come down to her mid-thigh, and the calf of her right thigh is covered with a black and white striped sock that stops just below her knee. Purple sneakers just add to the clear theme she has going on.
“Well, somebody finally made it.” She uncrosses her legs in a grand gesture, standing up and taking the few steps down from the platform her throne is perched on. “I’ve been waiting all day, and I was starting to get really bored. Sometimes I think the maze was a bad idea for a gym challenge. Too long, a liability, blah blah blah, but people keep telling me I should change it, so I won’t.”
That’s… backwards logic, but Grian can appreciate it nonetheless. He, too, frequently goes directly against what people suggest. “Um, I’m Grian.” He says rather dumbly, unsure if he’s supposed to cross the arena to shake her hand. “I’m here to, uh, challenge you.”
“I figured. You’re in a pokémon gym after all.” She chuckles at his embarrassed silence, smiling at him and grabbing a pokéball from her belt. “I’m Cleo, the gym leader if you couldn’t tell. Are you ready for this? No shame in backing out. Just because I’m the first gym, doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you.”
Grian takes a deep breath, then nods. “Yeah, yeah I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
She tosses her pokéball, a flash of light giving way to an ever-flowing pile of purple goop. The grimer gives a call, smiling dopely back at Cleo who tuts at him, getting him to face his opponent.
He makes to grab Professor Beak’s pokéball from his belt, trying to figure out his game plan here. Would water or flying be better against a poison type? His mind is suddenly blanking on the basics of battling he studied years ago. He really should have refreshed his memory during their camping trips.
Cleo is being perfectly patient, her grimer wobbling around as he awaits for instructions. He hesitates in grabbing his pokéball, looking at Dewdrop instead. “Hey bud?” Big eyes look at him, “Do you want to give this one a go?”
“ Sobble …” The response is soft, a few looks between Grian, the grimer, and Cleo. “ Sobble .” He’s bounding down, landing softly in the arena. He looks miniscule next to Grimer.
“You have a lot of faith in that little guy, huh?” Cleo’s voice holds no malice, no mockery. Grian swallows, and nods. “Alright, let’s see what he’s made of. Grimer,” the pokémon perks up, “use mud-slap.”
It's overwhelming, how in an instant grimer raises his arms, sliding forward and getting ready to attack his tiny partner. Dewdrop freezes, and so does Grian, simply watching the grimer approach. Grian wants to call out to him to move, to get out of the way, but the words die on his tongue. There's sound roaring in his ears, sounds of people cheering and calling and it's deafening. He doesn't want to be here. It's too much. It's too much!
All at once he's back there. In Galar, in Turffield, at the gym challenge all those years ago. Leader Milo in front of him, Dewdrop out on the battlefield. The stadium around them is full: full of cheering fans, Grian’s parents, and all his friends rooting for his victory. This was the start of his future, this was the time when he would make a name for himself. He would achieve his childhood dreams. All he had to do was beat two pokémon. Easy. Simple. He could do this.
He never considered that Dewdrop couldn’t. That grass had the type advantage. That his studying turned out to be for nothing when he threw it all away. That he would make such a rookie mistake. Dewdrop trusted him, Dewdrop was counting on him to guide him. And Grian sent him into a losing battle.
The gossifleur’s magical leaf attack looked as if it consumed Dewdrop, his tiny body completely covered with the charged leaves. Grian couldn’t see him, until it was too late, his partner fainted on the arena floor. Leader Milo was laughing in victory, voice amplified by the microphone on his chest. He was offering advice to Grian, but Grian couldn’t hear him. He was skidding to the floor next to Dewdrop, cradling the pokémon in his hands.
“Grian? Kid?” Leader Milo’s voice felt like it was coming through cotton placed over Grian’s ear, and when he looked up he saw the man concerned, a camera drone behind him, angled right at Grian still kneeling on the floor.
It all hit Grian like a truck, the noise of the crowd, the feeling of the rough battlefield, the stifling humidity of a grass type gym arena. It was too much. He was sitting here in front of hundreds of people. He went into this thinking he could do this. He- He failed. He failed miserably.
He stumbled to his feet, and dashed past the lights and camera, back into the locker rooms of the arena. He needed to get Dewdrop to the pokémon center, and avoid all the TVs in the region. He could just barely hear someone calling out after him.
“Kid? Hey, you okay?”
Grian blinked back into the present. He was in the gym, Leader Cleo is right in front of him. She’s talking to him. She asked him a question. He should answer. Why isn’t he answering?
“Uh oh. Here, stay here, I’ll go grab a nurse to come help you.”
No! He doesn’t need more people seeing him like this. “I’m fine!” He blurts out, feeling bile climb up his throat. He swallows it down, along with his lie.
Cleo gives him a look over. “Are you sure, kid? You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m fine ,” he tries again, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. He looks down at the ground, trying to stop the world from swimming around him. It's there he sees Dewdrop.
He’s bound back from the arena, noticing Grian’s distress. He looks so scared , clinging to his leg, big teary eyes even bigger and tearier.
He can’t do this.
“I’m sorry,” he croaks, bending down to pick up Dewdrop. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”
“Kid-” He doesn’t stop to listen to her as he turns to leave, swiftly stepping through the convenient exit marked for any who fail the gym challenge.
Grian sits on a bench outside the gym, hunched over and lost in his thoughts. Dewdrop is pressed up against his side, sitting similarly and trying to help him feel better. It isn’t working.
He failed. Again. He failed again. He let down Bdubs, and Mumbo, and Cleo, and Dewdrop. He let himself down.
He takes a few breaths, pushing back the rising tears. Dewdrop isn’t as successful. Grian forces a sad smile, reaching a hand over to wipe away the token “sobble-tears.”
“I’m sorry, Dewdrop. I thought I could do this but…” He sighs, staring back down at the pavement below. “I can’t. I’m not meant to be a trainer.”
“ Sobble …”
“I can’t , Dewy. I just end up back there. In Galar. In that stupid arena. I can’t put you through that again.”
“ Sobble! ”
“I’m not leaving you behind. We’re partners; if we fail, we fail together.”
“ Sobble .” He’s pouting, and Grian swipes his thumb over the pokémon’s cheek one last time, getting rid of the residual grimer-goop.
The doors to the gym slide open, and Bdubs walks out, body slumped in on itself. Right… Grian needs to tell Bdubs he couldn’t do it. Bdubs will probably rub it in his face, laugh at him, call him a loser. And he’d be right. He’ll probably show off his shiny new badge and declare himself the superior trainer.
Before Grian can even open his mouth though, Bdubs is falling down into the seat next to him. His head is bowed, and shoulders low. He looks mighty sad for someone who just beat their first gym.
Silence falls over them, even Dewdrop holding his breath. “Uh, Bdubs?” He starts, “How’d it go?”
“I lost.”
Just like that it feels like all his thoughts come to a grinding halt. “You- What? How? How could you lose? You-”
“Geez, a gracious winner you are.” Bdubs cuts him off, leaning his head back and staring up at the cloud filled sky. “I got overzealous and didn’t think. Cleo’s trickier than I thought, especially with those poison types; serves me right for underestimating the first gym leader, huh?”
And Grian’s thoughts are back, whirling in his head like a tornado. There is so much to process. Bdubs lost. Bdubs lost the first gym, which seems inconceivable considering his pure confidence going into this challenge. He thinks Grian won.
He thinks Grian won.
“I- I didn’t win!” Grian blurts out, stumbling over his own tongue in an attempt to both clear his name and comfort his friend.
Bdubs looks at him with surprised eyes, “You didn’t? You were in there for such a long time, I figured the battle was intense.”
“I-” A wave of embarrassment washes over Grian, his shoulders coming up to his ears. “I just got lost. I’m not very good with mazes. And- And the statues freaked me out.”
“Oh, good! I thought I was the only one.” Bdubs sighs, a hand on his chest. “Those statues were so realistic! It took me a solid five minutes before I stopped running away from them and realized that they weren’t actually chasing me.”
That startles a laugh out of Grian, “At least you had the idea to run! I just froze! If they were real pokémon, I would have been toast. I would be the one carted off to the pokémon Center.”
They share a laugh, the weight of their losses lifting between them at the ridiculousness of their own actions. It’s only when they’re resting against the bench again, catching their breath, does shame start to lick at Grian’s neck.
“I… I actually,” He stutters, pointedly looking at a pebble on the ground, rolling it around with the toe of his shoe. “I didn’t even actually battle her.”
“What?” He can feel Bdubs’ eyes on him, but he still refuses to look.
“I chickened out. I couldn’t do it. I- I’m not cut out to be a trainer.”
“That’s nonsense talk!” Bdubs huffs, standing up, “You are absolutely cut out to be a trainer.”
“You haven’t seen me battle.”
“No, I haven’t, but I don’t need to see you battle to see you have it in you to be great at it.”
Grian sighs, reaching over to scoop Dewdrop off the bench and place the small pokémon in his lap. Dewdrop lets him hold his front legs, gently rubbing over the smooth skin there. “I’m not going to ever be good at it.” He starts again, eyes trained on Dewdrop. “I just can’t handle it.” He finally looks up, trying not to feel overwhelmed by all the emotions Bdubs seems to be feeling on his behalf. “And that’s okay! I don’t need to be. I’ve got Dewdrop. And Professor Beak! See, this wasn’t a total waste of time.”
He’s trying to be optimistic in the face of failure, he knows it. But he’s being genuine, too. He got a new pokémon out of it, he got to reconnect with some old friends. He got to see some of Hoevi; now he has some spare camping gear he can use back home, too. Maybe he can convince Mumbo to join him. Yeah, it wasn’t all for nothing.
Bdubs doesn’t say anything for a long while, and Grian is about to accept that as his friend agreeing with him. Until, “That’s stupid.” Grian just about falls off the bench. “This is stupid, Grian. I won’t hear any of it.”
“Bdubs this isn’t-”
“I can’t believe you’re quitting. Just like this!”
“You don’t-”
“I can’t believe you’re just letting me be the better trainer. Just letting me become the champion, without even trying.”
“Bdubs, please.” Grian murmurs, his voice almost failing. “I just can’t.”
There’s another long bout of silence before Bdubs huffs, “Well, I’m not quitting. I’m gonna go heal up my team and march right back into that stupid maze and beat Cleo’s entire team in the blink of an eye.”
Bdubs keeps throwing Grian for an absolute loop, moving too quickly for him to keep up. He looks up, watching Bdubs stomp away, hands in tight fists by his sides. He doesn’t follow, but Dewdrop does; the small pokémon jumps out of Grian’s lap, hopping across the brick pathways of Midblossom to follow after Bdubs.
“Dewy!” He calls, scrambling to grab his bag before chasing after the little guys. Dewdrop stops at the sliding doors of the pokémon Center, too small to trigger the sensors, and Grian is able to scoop him up. “What were you thinking? What if someone stepped on you?”
“ Sobble !” Is the response he gets, a little blue finger pointing into the center.
“Are you hurt or-?” Grian takes one step in only to hit his forehead against Bdubs. They both groan, hands coming up to hold their heads. When Grian finally looks up, blinking back the tears in his eyes, he’s startled to see such a determined fire in Bdubs’.
“Don’t try and stop me!” Bdubs tells him, voice far louder than it really needs to be considering they are right in front of each other.
“I wasn’t! Dewdrop followed after you-”
“Because I’m going to prove it to you, okay, Grian?”
Grian lost track of the conversation already, that’s gotta be a new record. “What?”
“I’m going to prove you can be a trainer. I’m going to go beat Leader Cleo, and my badge is going to move you so much you’ll run back in there yourself to get your own.”
“That’s not- Bdubs, you don’t need to prove anything to me.” Grian is becoming increasingly aware that the two of them stand in the entrance of the Pokémon Center, having a rather loud conversation, and people are starting to stare. He shifts Dewdrop to one hand, gently grabbing Bdubs by the forearm to bring him back outside, out of the way of any other passerbyers. “This isn’t just something you can, I don’t know, inspire me into doing. I- I’ve already failed Dewdrop once. I can’t do it again.”
Bdubs looks down at the sobble, the two blinking at each other for far too long. Grian starts to think he isn’t a part of whatever this is, but then Bdubs is addressing him again. “Did Dewdrop tell you that or did you?”
“What?”
“Just by lookin’ at Dewdrop I can tell he wants you to go back in there and get that badge.”
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He- he does, yes. But I can’t .”
“Why?”
“I’m- I just can’t, okay?” Grian’s chest feels tight, his own voice raising before he forces it back down. “I know Dewdrop wants me to try again. I know you want me to try again. Heck, if Mumbo were here he’d be telling me to try again, too! But I can’t!”
“Why not?” Bdubs asks again, taking a step closer.
And just like that, it boils over. “Because I’m scared ! Happy? I already failed in Galar in front of hundreds of people; I made a stupid mistake that got Dewdrop hurt, and never even looked at battling again until you came along. I never should have signed up for this because I can’t do this again, Bdubs.”
Bdubs scoffs, and Grian just about wants to punch him in the face. “That’s stupid,” is all he says again , as if that magically solves all of Grian’s problems.
“Maybe it is.” Grian takes a deep breath, petting the small crest on top of Dewdrop’s head.
Their argument lulls into silence, both of them shuffling uncomfortably in their spots. Grian focuses on Dewdrop, and not on the way Bdubs still seems to be radiating anger from the very core of his being. He startles when Bdubs speaks again.
“Come watch me battle her.”
Grian is starting to get used to not being able to predict Bdubs’ next move. He would have sworn his friend (he hopes they’re still friends) would tell him to leave him alone, to make the journey back to Newport on his own. But instead he’s asking him to accompany him, despite their competition being as good as over.
“Why? It’s not going to make me change my mind.”
“I- Fine, it won’t. But you owe me this much.” When Grian tilts his head in confusion, Bdubs scoffs and elaborates. “We made it this far, and if you’re not even going to try to battle Leader Cleo, then you can at least cheer me on.”
That softens some of the emotions swirling in Grian’s chest, “You want me there?”
“Not everyday you get to see your future champion win his first gym badge. Someone’s gotta be there to tell my story to the press. It’s doing you a favor, really.”
He laughs, a little breathless thing that has him shaking his head. This man is just as crazy as Grian remembers him being all those years ago. “Alright, I can come watch you. And make sure you don’t get lost in the maze.”
“Oh like you’ll be any help.”
“At the very least I can remind you they’re statues, not real pokémon.”
“Rude!”
It’s easy, and preferable, to settle back into this joking banter between them. Even if the gym is foreboding still as they approach it, something in Grian’s gut settles when he reminds himself he isn’t entering as a challenger. He’s a simple observer. He watched tons of gym challenges on TV as a kid, this is nothing different.
After convincing the doorman that only one of them was battling, he let them through to traverse the maze again. They squabbled a bit on which direction to go (“You always stick to the left,” he had told Bdubs but the other man was convinced the right path was the way out), and only got scared by the statues a handful of times. Grian doesn’t know if it took them longer to get through the maze than when he went alone, but it was certainly more enjoyable. He even got a few pictures of Dewdrop climbing on top of a victreebel statue and hanging off one of the giant fake leaves.
They emerge into the area (“I told you it was left.”), Leader Cleo lounging on her throne once again. Her eyebrows raise when she sees them. “You know, this isn’t a double battle gym, right?”
Bdubs is already reaching for his pokéballs, so Grian takes it upon himself to explain, waving his hands placatingly in the air. “I’m not challenging. I’m here for moral support, if that’s okay?”
She stares at him for a few long moments, unease making him want to shuffle his feet. “Fine, I suppose that’s okay.” She stands from the throne, grabbing a pokéball from her waist. “As long as your friend here won’t be too embarrassed if he loses again.”
“I ain’t losing.” Bdubs grumbles, tossing out his ball and letting his ponyta free. She whinnies, raising to her back hooves for a moment before settling down again, shaking out her mane. “I’m getting that badge.”
Cleo smiles at him, tossing out her grimer and paying no mind to how it spins in place while it waits for orders, spreading its goop everywhere. “That’s what I like to hear. Now, you ready?” Once Bdubs gives his affirmative, she’s commanding her grimer to attack.
The grimer surges forward, a flowing appendage ready to hit the ponyta that dodges out of the way with Bdubs’ call. Ponyta scrapes her hooves against the ground, charging forward towards grimer, and knocking the dense pile of mud back, the hole left by ponyta’s horn quickly filling in.
Cleo’s lip twitches upward, “Grimer, disable.” The grimer gives a happy call, arms raising in the air before some of his mud is spewing forward, his aim directed towards ponyta’s hooves.
Ponyta squeals, trying to lift her hooves from the ground only to find them stuck to the floor. She spends some time struggling, mane flipping back and forth on her neck. “Hey, hey, it’s okay girl.” Bdubs soothes, one hand out as if he could reach out and pet her. “Hit him with a fairy wind.”
“ Ta!” She calls, her horn beginning to sparkle on the tip. Grian can feel the breeze from where he stands as it circles through the arena. Ponyta’s hair is blown forward, and grimer is blown back a few inches, a bit of goop flying off him.
Grimer still wears the dopey grin, bobbing up and down. Fairy is weak to poison, but Bdubs must know that, right? The ponyta’s tail whips back and forth a couple of times, and Grian notices how the movement catches grimer’s attention. He sways back and forth with it, letting out a low, amused call that Cleo rolls her eyes at.
“Grimer, sludge.”
That seems to snap grimer out of his trance, and he gives one call of “ Grime… ” before his arms are raising again, more mud spewing towards ponyta. This time the mud is a darker color, some sort of vapor coming up from it as it lands in ponyta’s mane. She thrashes her neck back and forth, managing to pry her hooves free in the struggle. She is staggering backwards towards Bdubs, falling to her knees, and he pets down her back.
“Don’t worry girl, you did great. Rest up and I’ll clean your mane later, okay?” Ponyta whinnies softly before Bdubs is returning her to her pokéball.
“Given up yet?” Cleo asks, and Grian can see how Bdubs’ gaze hardens.
“You wish.” He’s pulling his other pokéball from his belt, tossing it out. “Pignite is going to wipe your team out.” Just on cue, Pignite is there in the arena now, looking as pumped and ready to fight.
“You said that last time, too, I’m pretty sure.” Cleo continues to taunt, snapping her fingers to get grimer’s attention. “Come on, now, you. Sludge him again for me.”
“ Grimer!” He calls, arms raising once again excitedly.
“Defense curl, quick!” Pignite wastes no time, curling in on himself and protecting his face and chest from the incoming blob of goop that lands on his back. A moment later Pignite is unfurling, ears flicking. “Ember!”
The pignite makes a snorting noise, body leaning back before it’s spitting fire at the grimer. The flames hit, and grimer calls out, waving its ignited arm in the air to put it out. Another shot of fire hits him, and now he is frantically waving both his arms.
“Drama queen,” Cleo mutters, a fond expression on her face as she calls the grimer back into his pokéball. She gives no preamble before she is sending out her second pokémon, trubbish waving its little trash arms in the air as a greeting to them all. For literal trash, Grian has to admit the pokémon is quite cute. “Toxic spikes.”
“ Trub! ” He calls, his arms retracting into his bag-like body for a moment before popping back out, a few dark colored spikes in each of his hands. He tosses them out onto the arena floor.
The pignite is snorting again, another shot of fire aiming directly for trubbish. It lands, his baggy body igniting briefly before he pats himself out with an annoyed huff. Bdubs is incredibly tense, his hands in tight fists as he watches the battle, giving out orders to his pokémon. Grian doesn’t blame him, he’s sweating just watching.
“Pignite, flame charge.” Bdubs almost sounds hesitant giving the order, but pignite is jumping into it without any preamble. He’s squealing into the air as his body alights, before he starts to charge forward towards trubbish.
“Double slap when he gets close.” Cleo orders, and trubbish does just that as soon as pignite gets close enough. While the other pokémon is ramming into him, trubbish uses his arms to whack at pignite. He shakes himself off when pignite steps back, the fire covering his body dimming into a lingering smoke.
As pignite is backing up towards Bdubs’ side of the arena again, his foot lands directly on one of the spikes trubbish laid out earlier. He cries out in pain, hopping on one foot until he falls over onto his behind, two little orange hands grabbing for the spike trap that’s lodged itself into his foot.
Cleo wastes no time using this distraction to her advantage, “Pound!” she calls out, the trubbish getting ready to jump up and slam pignite into the ground.
“Ember!” Panic laces Bdubs’ voice, frantically trying to get pignite’s attention. “Pignite, use ember!”
Grian swears the next few moments pass in slow motion. The trubbish in the air, about to come down to land the finishing blow onto pignite, just as the other pokémon looks up. The pignite snorts, a charge of fire landing right in the trubbish’s face as he descends. Instead of landing heavily on top of the pignite and dealing any damage, the trubbish wheezes and flops down on top of him. They all look with baited breath, the scene processing within their mind, before Cleo smiles at Bdubs.
“Did I just… win?” He asks, the question feeble as if he doesn’t believe it himself.
“That you did.” Cleo confirms, calling trubbish back to his pokéball, and Bdubs’ face breaks out into a giant grin.
“I did it! Haha, yes!” He’s rushing forward into the arena, scooping pignite in his arms and hugging him close. “You did it, Pignite. You did great. Thank you, thank you!” He presses a few kisses to the top of the pokémon’s head, getting a couple of snorts in response.
Cleo gives the two a few moments to bask in their glory, before drawing Bdubs’ attention again. “Congrats, Trainer Bdubs. You’ve earned yourself the Toxic Badge.” She nods towards the wall behind her. “Come with me, I’ll get you the badge and we can heal up your pokémon.”
Bdubs doesn’t move for a moment, muttering something to pignite before returning him to his pokéball. He then follows after Cleo easily, but Grian falters. Heal up? She can heal their pokémon? How? Curiously, he follows behind the others, gawking at the small room adjacent to the arena. Its walls are painted a lighter, lavender color, warm lights filling the room with a comforting glow. But the thing that shocks Grian, is the table in the corner, just like the ones he’s seen in pokémon centers.
Grian’s always thought it looked like an incubator of sorts. A white base and black interior, six indents for pokéballs to rest in, and a glass dome that covers them while they heal. Cleo gestures for Bdubs to place his pokéballs into the machine, pressing a button and watching the dome close. There’s a bit of beeping, a small chime before the glass recedes. Bdubs just picks up the pokéballs and slots them back on to his belt as if this is the most natural thing in the world. Cleo places her own pokémon into the healing-incubator-thing (it has to have a name, right?) before tossing the balls into the air and releasing the pokémon inside. As expected, they seem back to full health.
“Hey buddies, good work out there.” Cleo praises, walking to a counter and pulling out a jar filled with little colorful cubes. Grimer and trubbish crowd around Cleo, making happy chirps until she drops a few of the cubes for them to gobble up.
“What… Is this?” Grian is taking a few more steps into the room, taking in the charming decor of it. There’s a couch and loveseat set in the corner, with a TV hooked up on the wall. A small kitchenette where Cleo stands, setting the jar back in its spot against the wall. There’s pictures hanging up here and there, smaller versions of the statues they saw in the maze dotting the various surfaces. It’s cozy.
“Guess you could call it my break room.” Cleo tells him, crouching down to give her trubbish a pat on the head. “My job mostly includes waiting for trainers to show up, so I have a lot of downtime.”
“And a mini-pokémon center?” Because that still baffles Grian. He’s never seen one of the incubators outside of the centers.
“Whoa, now, I wouldn’t go so far as to call it that. Most gyms have a healing table somewhere in them. We have to be ready for quick turn-around battles, y’know?” That makes sense, he supposes. “Speaking of,” she opens a drawer, plucking out the same pendant that adorns her choker, and handing it to Bdubs. “There’s your badge, as promised.”
Bdubs is practically glowing, looking at the badge in his hands with a big smile on his face. His body bounces a bit from the excitement of it all, and he messes with the wristband he and Grian got at the beginning of their journey.
She lets him fumble with that, then turns to Grian with her hands on her hips and an expectant look. “As for you…”
She doesn’t need to say it for him to know what she is asking. “I’m not challenging you.”
“Really?” She seems genuinely surprised, her gaze falling to his shoulder where Dewdrop sits. “That’s funny since your sobble seems rearing for a fight.”
Grian startles, a hand instinctively coming up to press Dewdrop closer to his shoulder. “I- I’m not here to challenge you.” He says again, and she just shrugs.
“I can’t make you. Just a bit of a shame, I think.” She flops herself down on one of the couches, having none of that previous regality to her movements.
“What’s a shame?”
“That you’re not even trying!” Bdubs calls out, fixing a rather heated glare on Grian, just like the one during their earlier conversation.
“Well, that’s part of it, yes.” Cleo chuckles, beckoning them over to the seating area. “I think it’s a shame you’re not trying, when you and your pokémon clearly want to.”
Grian’s brow furrows as he thinks about that, settling himself on the end of a couch. Dewdrop drops down to his lap, tugging a hand towards him to hold. He wraps his little paw around one of Grian’s fingers, big eyes blinking up at him.
“I don’t want to, though.”
“You hesitated.”
“You’re pressuring me.”
Cleo laughs, head throwing back. “Touché. But earlier, you hesitated too. If you really didn’t want to do this, why come all this way?”
Grian shrugs, still looking down at Dewdrop instead of at the gym leader across from him. “Rash decision. Didn’t think it through.”
“He kept going on about becoming the next champion.” Bdubs tells her, lounging beside Grian.
“I joked about it once. ”
“He found a chatot in the forest on the way here, and didn’t even have to battle it to catch it.” Cleo’s eyebrows raise at that, her interest clearly piqued. “And then he spent a bunch of time training it. Or so he says. He never let me watch, so for all I know he doesn’t actually have a pokémon team to battle with.”
“Professor Beak could beat your team anyday.” Grian growls, protectiveness for his pokémon flaring up in his chest.
“Oh yeah? Then prove it!” Bdubs is reaching for his pokéballs already, fingers twitching. “Battle me! You’ve refused the entire time we’ve been traveling. Or do you know you’ll lose, now that I have a badge?”
“Boys, boys, you’re both pretty.” Cleo cuts in, exasperation coloring her tone. She’s smiling at them, though, something almost fond twinkling in her eyes. “Keep in mind, Bdubs, you lost to me on your first try.”
“Hey! I beat you the second time.” Bdubs is pouting now, arms crossed in a defensive manner.
“After you learned from your mistakes. Don’t go claiming you can beat someone in a battle just because you’ve won the first gym badge.” Her gaze settles on Grian now, and he wants to sink into the couch to escape it. “And Grian, don’t go claiming you can beat someone without being willing to back up your claim.”
Bdubs and Grian go silent, both effectively scolded for their respective outbursts. Cleo has a point, Grian can concede. How can he say his pokémon could win in a battle? A couple of wild battles are nothing compared to a trainer battle. He’s never even won a trainer battle. If his last experience is anything to go by, he’d probably fail miserably and make a fool of himself again. He’s already failed Dewdrop; he doesn’t think he can stomach the idea of failing Professor Beak, too.
“I would be interested in at least meeting this Chatot of yours, if you’d let me?” Grian blinks at Cleo, Professor Beaks’ pokéball feeling suddenly very heavy where it sits at his hip.
He shrugs, shifting to the side to grab the pokéball from his waist. He stares at the shiny red and white surface, shame tugging at his heart. He already has failed Professor Beak, hasn’t he? He trained so hard, and now Grian won’t even try . He knows he probably looks very dejected when he tosses the ball, Professor Beak flapping his wings happily once he’s out in the open.
“ Chaaa! ” He calls, tilting his head at Cleo, then back at Grian. He takes a few hops towards the couch, before reaching a talon out and climbing up Grian’s leg.
“Ow! Prof- Beak- Your talons, Beak, they’re sharp!” Grian carefully scoops the bird pokémon up by his abdomen, his wings lifting out of the way before flapping and launching himself onto Grian’s shoulder where he settles in quickly. What is it with his pokémon and perching on his shoulder?
“He’s very comfortable with you,” Cleo comments, reminding Grian of her presence. “I would expect nothing less if he chose you to be his trainer.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Grian tells her, scratching under Professor Beak’s chin. Dewdrop makes an affronted noise, so he makes sure to give his partner some attention, too. “Aren’t all pokémon comfortable with their trainers?”
“Absolutely not.” She shakes her head, fire-red curls bouncing against the back of the couch. “In an ideal world, maybe. But for a pokémon to show such unrelenting trust in you so quickly? That’s something very special, Grian. You shouldn’t take it for granted.”
Something special? Grian doesn’t think there’s anything special about him. About Professor Beak, sure. He thinks Dewdrop and Professor Beak are the best pokémon he could ask for. Dewdrop with all his shenanigans and endless support, even when it’s sometimes accompanied by copious amounts of tears. Professor Beak put up with Grian worrying over him during training days, always chirping brightly to let Grian know he was okay, even after a wild pokémon left him injured.
They do trust him, Grian realizes. As a trainer, and as a friend, his pokémon trust him. And what has he done to repay that trust? All he’s done is be a coward, clinging too tightly to his past to give either of his pokémon a chance at success. To give himself a chance of redemption.
The thought is staggering, leaving him completely frozen in his seat as he truly lets that knowledge sink in. His pokémon trust him - Professor Beak chose him - and he doesn’t trust himself enough to even try a single battle. Professor Beak trusted Grian in training, and would trust him in a battle, too. Something is unfurling deep in his gut, something Grian hasn’t felt since he was a child, standing before the Turrfield stadium with nothing but Dewdrop on his shoulder and a dream.
“Well, my gym isn’t closed for the day.” Cleo tells them, pulling herself to her feet, Bdubs following suit. Grian still sits there, mind racing over this new information he’s unraveled in his mind. “I need to be ready for any other trainers that stop by. So, sorry, but I’m kicking you two out.”
Bdubs is saying something, but Grian doesn’t hear it. Blood is pounding in his ears, and Professor Beak’s weight is heavy on his shoulder. His pokémon trust him, the least he can do for them is try .
“Wait,” Grian says, stumbling as he stands up off the couch, almost overbalanced by Professor Beak. They both look back at him, and he decides to blurt it out before he gets cold feet again. “Gym Leader Cleo, I would like to challenge you.”