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--Helena--

For the first time, I knew exactly what I was doing. I felt it in my horn. I felt it all through my body. When I was moving the right direction. When I was not. She was heading back for the cabin. If I slowed down, it tinged with misery. When I sped up, that feeling went away. For the first time, I actually felt like I was exactly where I needed to be. I felt like I was doing what I was meant to.

Was that seeing the future? As I leapt over the brush and sprang off of the roots towards that future, I was, for the first time, almost hopeful it was. I’d get to her first. Just so long as I could keep running, I’d get to her first.

I remembered the day my old life ended. I wondered if my master… understood what had happened. If he understood what he’d done.

It was a pleasant evening, but something felt off. The atmosphere was wrong. Tense. Anticipation. Fake pleasantries. I tried to convince him to go, even going so far as to make a mess so he’d have to pay attention to me.

The person he was trying to swindle suggested he let me outside for a while. I tried to stay near him, to not leave his side, but he pushed and shoved, and finally kicked me away. Forcing me through the door and closing it between us.

The last time I ran… it was chasing after him as they shoved him into a dark van. It was chasing them until my legs gave out… and the feeling of his last moments. Of fear, pain, and then nothing.

I tried to shake off those thoughts, forcing my mind to here and now.

If she was headed back that quickly, she was doing so alone. That meant Gwen was safe. They probably met up with the group. They probably had help coming. Real help. But here and now, I didn’t need their help. As much as I hated myself for admitting it, I needed Annabelle. He needed Annabelle.

I ran until it burned, until every breath was agony. Until my legs felt like they were going to crumble. And then, I ran more. After everything he suffered simply because I had asked? Everything he’d done, for whatever reason he’d done it? I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied with less. I didn’t feel anything change in my horn when I was forced to slow down, she was close. I had caught up to her.

It hurt so much, and I was about to do it all over again… but this time, I wasn’t chasing after the end of my old life. I was ready to sprint towards the start of my new one.

As I burst through the brush, it occurred to me a moment too late; I really should have known better than to surprise Annabelle when she was already on edge.

--Annabelle--

It was reflex. It was purely reflex. She was there, all of the sudden, and I just swung. Full tilt, both of us. Down she went. There was nothing either of us could have done. It was over before it had even registered.

But she laughed. Why was she laughing? I just bloodied her, and she was laughing. Cackling. Pained, but genuinely laughing. Did I rattle something loose in her head?

“Oh, man. I … Ow! Fuckin’...” She cussed and tried to stand, but her legs were trembling, and all she could do was sit. I felt guilty, as she tried to shake it off, but she shook her head slowly and caught her breath. “Need you. Really need your fuckin’ help.” She panted, and winced. “Gwen safe?”

It was hard to be mad at her. Or him, for that matter. Gwen was safe. She was safe. Whatever happened, he’d kept her safe. Kept them both safe while I was gone. Still, I couldn’t imagine what she was about to ask me was going to be pleasant.

“Gwen’s safe. She should be with the others by now. I was on my way to come rescue you. Him too, I guess. So. You need my help. That’s a new one. It must be serious. Walk and talk?”

“Oh no. We’re running, and you’ll understand when you get there.” Helena replied, as she looked over her shoulder. “It’s … a bit of a trip.”

It was impossible to make sense of her, sometimes. She was a mess. Fur full of dirt, twigs, and grass. Bleeding still from where I’d hit her, and it was obvious she was exhausted already. And she wanted to run, but she wasn’t panicked. It was about the calmest I’d ever seen her.

All I could really do was to trust in her certainty. So she ran, despite the waves of exhaustion and pain rolling off of her, she ran with strength, and conviction.

For her sake, then. If not his. I could do the same. It was the first time I had ever felt strength, or conviction from her.

It was long overdue.

--Wendy--

It was rough footing for Staccato, but we took it slow, Gwen sat behind me, as we made our way up the pass. We stayed as long as we dared, rested, for her sake, for mine. And then we left. Up the narrow switchbacks towards the peak.

I told Staccato everything I knew, which was admittedly very little. Gwen filled in the rest. It had started to make sense, the way she explained it.

Helena had belonged to this con artist who had a bunch of people wrapped around his little finger, their entire lives hanging on his every word. He used her to manipulate them, and took them for everything they had.

And they never understood or believed that was true. As he ruined their lives, they thanked him, praised him. Damned near worshiped him.

And one day, he just disappeared. Nobody ever saw him again. Helena had been left behind, nobody could really say why. Gwen assumed he just saw her as dead weight. Whatever the truth, he vanished, and as people began to figure out they’d been had, all that awakening anger only had one target.

When she was brought to the sanctuary, she wasn’t expected to make a recovery at all. She didn’t have anything to say to the psychic trainer or his partner. Agreed to not stray or wander, though it was halfhearted at best. For a long time, Helena didn’t say, or do much of anything. Occasional sightings by the streams, watching the fish swim past with only little interest.

She’d begun to perk up, between Gwen and Annabelle, the two challenged her, frequently, to communicate. To share. To simply tolerate being near anyone. But she had always maintained a cold, defiant and almost antagonistic distance, especially to anyone unfamiliar.

It was unheard of for her to approach anyone on her own, let alone to ask for help.

Gwen laughed, and shook her head. “And to think, it was that boy of all people. He’s more trouble than she is, and don’t try to deny it! I could tell from the moment I saw him.”

“Well…” I said, and laughed. “It’s true, he’s reckless, and entirely too willing to throw himself on the fire, but… that’s what they’re drawn to, you know? Doesn’t do anythin’ halfway, and loves ‘em all with everything he has.”

Gwen laughed at that, as we made our way to the peak, the valley below opening up to us. We could see the lake, tranquil, serene. He hadn’t made it there, but it was fine. We’d find somewhere quiet to wait nearby, and they’d come get us.

“Don’t worry about him. I know what I saw in his eyes before I left. Wasn’t a man making a one-way trip. He’ll find us, or we’ll find him.” She said, patting Staccato’s side, beneath her. “What say we get down to the water? I could use a drink, I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

--Trainer--

It had been hours, the sun was well into the sky. I couldn’t say where exactly we were, but nobody was in a hurry to leave. The nidoqueen hadn’t moved much at all, save to get a little more comfortable. My head was still resting in her lap, and every now and then, she ran her hand over my shoulder, like a mother soothing a child.

Mira was curled up beside me, her ribbons wrapped around as much of me as she could reach. Every pained wince, every frown, all of my thoughts, I knew she felt them, but we were both just relieved I was still alive. She knew how close it had been. Neither of us had to say a word, just the warmth and presence of the other was enough.

Cocoa kept a careful watch, but did so from beside us, her hand in mine, an occasional squeeze, as if to make sure I was still there. As if I might disappear if she weren’t paying attention. I knew she’d be thinking about it, for a long time. In quiet moments. It was too heavy, too much to bear, the idea of losing me. Of leaving me like that.

When we heard the rustling in the brush, Cocoa was up in an instant. Mira was right behind her, but her ribbons caught the miltank’s hands, and tugged them back. “No, no. Helena, is that you?”

It was Annabelle that came out first, panting, exhausted, as she staggered to us. “She’s…” She said, struggling for a moment, leaning on Cocoa who held her upright with a worried look. “Right behind. Minutes. Told me to come first. She’s so fast…” She panted as she made her way towards us.

As Cocoa finally let her go, she sized me up, and laughed. Long, and loud, falling on her ass, and shaking her head. “Oh, you bitch, Helena…” She said, at last. “Get me tired first, then ask me to help him. You got me. You finally got me back. You evil little shit.“

Helena staggered in from behind, nudging Annabelle’s back with her horn, before slipping past, more or less falling over at my side. Her paw found my hand, and I realized that her ivory white fur was bloody around her feet, as she all but gasped for breath, her whole body trembling.

“Helena, what... “ I shook my head a little. “No. I understand. Thank you. But please, rest, and we’ll let Cocoa carry you, if we have to move, okay?”

Annabelle sighed, as she came to me. “You know…” She said, with a shake of her head. “I was right about you. You absolutely are a stubborn idiot. And yes, I know why you didn’t want to meet your pokemon’s mother. Don’t bother denying it.” She said, staring pointedly at me, before her gaze softened. “But … “ She paused, as she sat down next to me. “I was wrong in a lot of ways too. I judged you harshly, for no reason, and I’m sorry.”

With that, she held her hands in front of her, and closed her eyes. I felt a familiar kind of sensation, a prickling at the edge of my senses. Warmth through my body, dulling the pain. I felt the swelling in my face lessen, slowly, but surely… and for a time, I fell asleep.

--Mira--

Watching him sleep. Watching him sleep away the worst of it, and knowing that we were there for him, that he’d be alright. Annabelle’s reassurance, as she asked the nidoqueen to hold him still, while she tended to his leg. Her confidence as she asked me to do everything I could to keep him asleep… knowing that we were there for him. That I was there for him. It meant everything to me.

Helena had gone above and beyond anything we could have asked of her. Ran until she bled, and kept running, until she was done. Brought him help. Brought him the kind of help that nobody else could have given him. Turned away Annabelle’s offer to take care of her first, and sat beside him, waiting and watching.

I’d never seen anything like it, what Annabelle was doing. I could feel her, in him. Her focus and clarity, her fatigue, her joy. And a deep sense of melancholy. Of loss, and sadness, behind that. A kind of bitterness beneath it all, and directed entirely at herself.

She must have felt me staring, because she shook her head and smiled a gentle, sorrowful little smile. “It doesn’t matter now. I don’t feel like talking about it, and it wouldn’t change anything if I did.” Nobody else knew what she meant by it, even Helena radiated a moment of confusion. But I understood. I understood and left her to her work. To the work of putting my master back together.

It seemed to take ages, and yet, I was amazed at how quickly it was done. Annabelle winced as she finally let herself rest, and laid back on the grass, staring up into the blue sky. “He gave it is all, didn’t he?” She asked, mostly to herself, I felt. “I… can accept that.”

Helena limped to Annabelle’s side, and sat down beside her. “All that’s missing is the rest of his family… and yours. Where is Gwen?”

Annabelle shook her head. “Last I saw, headed down to Morrigan. Could be days before they make it back here. She was exhausted. She’s old, Annabelle. It was a lot to ask of her. Too much.” She replied, with a sigh. “Don’t misunderstand, it was the right thing to do, but everything has a price. He paid dearly, and so did she.”

“I wish we could find a way to make them pay.” I said, waving a ribbon vaguely towards the cabin we’d left behind. “For all of this. For ever coming here.”

Annabelle murmured agreement at that, as she stretched and sighed. “Would be nice, but I wouldn’t count on it. It’s good you’re planning on going, Helena. You know why they were here.”

--Helena--

I knew. I didn’t want to admit it, but I knew. What would he think of me? What would they think of me, now? To find out that this was my fault. To find out this was all because of me? “Thanks for reminding me. It’s not like I didn’t already feel like shit about it. Got anything else you want to dredge up? Maybe the time I broke Gwen’s vase? Or the time I bit that fucking trainer?” I shouldn’t have responded that way. I knew better. But honestly, I felt guilty enough about it without having it shoved in my face, again.

It was his hand at my side that stilled me. He’d managed to sit up a little, looking around through groggy eyes, and taking in the change in how he felt. “They were here after you?” He asked, as one hand reached for his leg, mended, knit, but even I could tell still fucking hurt. “Why?”

Fuck. It was a conversation I really didn’t want to have, and Annabelle knew that. But he asked me, no judgment, no anger. His hand still on my side, gentle, reassuring. He wasn’t going to go away. I had to believe that. I had to believe that he wouldn’t leave.

It was terrifying, the thought of it.

“There…” I faltered, and shook my head. “These…” Again, I knew what I wanted to say, but fuck all if I knew how to. “Idiots think I see the future and don’t want to believe my former trainer was a con artist who swindled everyone he met.”

The direct approach would have to do.

“And I know what you’re thinking, no I don’t know why they’re fixated on me when there are plenty of other absol out there. This isn’t the first time someone’s come looking for me, thanks to your kind keeping records about those of us who just want to disappear. And yes, I imagine it won’t be the last time, either. So why don’t you just bail on me like everyone else does?”

It hurt to say it, it hurt so much I thought my heart would burst. I didn’t mean it. I knew I didn’t mean it. But I was angry, and hurt and I couldn’t think about anything more than how afraid I was of being left alone again, and how weak I was to be afraid of that, when I managed just fine, before.

I remembered the first time I saw him. The way he moved, the way he fought. It just happened to be the wrong place, and the wrong time. I thought I was going to have to try and save him, back then. Save the girl, too. From them. I’d have had to give up that I knew I was being hunted again. My only advantage. And I would have. Because it wasn’t his fault, or hers. I did this.

The pain I felt when I realized they were going to go for Gwen, make her tell them everything she knew. The pain I felt when I knew in my heart she’d never say a word. That they’d do terrible things to her, and she’d never say a word. Right to the very end. Because she loved me. Loved all of us at that sanctuary. Because she was ours. A mother to us all.

The hope, the first fleeting hope I’d felt in my life. When I saw him again, sending the girl off into the hills. A whole day worrying and agonizing. All his own troubles weighing him down, but he didn’t turn me away. He didn’t turn me away or say he couldn’t do anything.

“So why don’t you... “ I couldn’t get the rest of it out. I choked on my own words, my own tears.

As he pulled me into his arms, I sobbed. For the first time since my life ended, I sobbed. I wept and cried and shivered, and he didn’t say a word. Didn’t pry, didn’t ask, didn’t judge. He held me, and he let me. And his family let me. Even Annabelle didn’t intrude. I couldn’t say how long I cried. I cried until I was a mess. Until he was. Until I had no more tears left. Until my eyes hurt as much as my heart.

And then, he took my head in his hands, pulled me up to look at him. It was like I was seeing him for the very first time. I didn’t see the strength of his muscle, or the confidence of the way he stood that day. I didn’t see the ferocity in his eyes, or the way his hand held a weapon with elegant ease.

I saw the eyes of someone who hurt as much as I did. Who had wept for my weeping. Who may not have understood anything, but understood that I was hurt, and was hurt by it. I saw a gentleness that I had only seen in one other person. I saw Gwen.

I saw that I was wrong.

She hadn’t abandoned me, either. Not ever.

And here I thought I had no more tears left.