This Is Fine

Authors Note - Chapter One.


This will usually be at the end of the chapters, but I wanted to ensure that I put this in first.


Grounded Pokémon story. Survival-focused, not a power fantasy.


The protagonist starts broke, barely supported, and behind. No chosen one, no hidden destiny, no master plan. Progress is incremental, and Pokémon are companions, not solutions to structural problems.


Let's get at it.


CHAPTER ONE START



The sky was overcast, and I swear the clouds were threatening me. I was just waiting for it to rain. Because the world would kick me when I was down.


I wasn't about to hand the world a straight line like 'could be worse.'


I knew it would take it as a goddamned challenge.


The slight caw overhead brought my attention up to the flock of Pidove and Tranquill that were turning south back towards Mistralton City. I didn't blame them. I was already regretting my decision to go north instead of east or south. At the time, it hadn't seemed to matter.


Oh, everyone has the thought.


Pokémon's wonderful! I'd love to be there!


Ever heard the old joke?


Would you like to live in your favourite fictional universe?


Star Trek, yes.


Pokémon, yes.


Dungeons and Dragons, yes.


Warhammer 40k, fuck no.


Well, jokes on me now.


Because I'd take Warhammer 40k over this.


At least the Tyranids had the common damned courtesy to make it quick. I swear, if it got me out of here, I'd fist fight a lictor buck ass naked.


Six months.


I'd been here six months, and it had all been downhill.


Couldn't hide my arrival; it flashed into existence right in front of a Pokémon Centre. In nothing but my jammies, a tub of ice cream, and a spoon firmly in hand from my midnight fridge raid. The police officer who'd just stepped out looked very freaked out seeing me; that may have been one of the few bright spots so far.


Then, of course, came my panic attack at realising that 'oh shit, oh shit that's a Growlithe.' Then my brain went into overdrive, cataloguing all the different, supposedly imaginary, creatures around me. I thought I must be having a mental breakdown or a psychotic break.


Stress from work. Dad dead. Died a couple of years back, didn't ever really deal with my feelings on that. Just jammed them down. The current economic crisis. Then, apparently, I used up all my brains bandwidth because I passed out.


I woke up two days later and was shuffled almost immediately into a meeting with local law enforcement. Which quickly became a meeting with the Unovan Bureau of Investigation. Then I got handballed again and made to wait four days under, admittedly quite polite, house arrest.


After that came the meeting with the Department of Unovan Security. Which had been more like twelve meetings, including a full brain scan by an actual Psychic with the help of their partner Pokémon called Reuniclus.


Which freaked me right the hell out.


But I was not given the chance to refuse.


According to the DUS and the lawyer I had been assigned, I was currently a 'threat to the continued safety of Unova.' As such, they waived the normal protocols forbidding psychic interrogation for cases less than murder. They'd only done it once. Apparently, doing so was extremely dangerous to the person doing the brain scan thing.


I was assured I was in no danger.


Still not sure, I believed that.


The actual Psychic was a nice enough guy. We talked, waiting for the medical professional to come in before he could start. Apparently, the other reason this wasn't used more often was that someone with a disciplined enough mind could actually create false memories for them to find. Which is why psychic testimony on anything could only be used as circumstantial evidence at best, legally speaking.


Because, of course, that was a thing.


Also terrifying.


They were mildly disturbed by what they pulled out of my mind and even more frustrated. I didn't blame them. I barely touched Pokémon as a game series in the last ten years, minus a small shot at Sun and Moon through an emulator, and even then, I wasn't really paying attention. Just something for my hands to do while I listened to an audiobook. I hadn't even seen an episode of the anime since what I was fairly certain was pre-2005.


I took some malicious joy in their suffering.


Giovanni, the leader of Team Rocket, would have been useful information if it hadn't been found out almost fifteen years ago and halfway around the world.


My meta-knowledge from the games was even more frustrating for them. Given that I had no concept of the timeline and who the bad guys were, in most cases.


Groudon, Kyogre, and Rayquaza would fight at some point due to some crazy people and environmentalist reasons. There may or may not be a meteor and an alien involved.


Some guy would summon Dialga, Palkia, and Giratina at some point for reasons I didn't remember at a place I didn't know. I was also uncertain if he had any actual control over the situation or not.


Everything else they got out of me was stuff I learned from cultural osmosis or because a friend of mine played every Pokémon game religiously.


Someone somewhere was an arsehole and a bad father. While his adoptive child N, his real name started with Natural, not sure what the rest was, but I knew it was stupid, was probably an actual moron. N was, possibly, the Hero of Ideals or maybe Truth.


Some weird guy with red hair who was very obviously unstable was going to kill a whole bunch of people using an 'ultimate weapon' of some kind. Also, there was an actual immortal running around.


That one made people sit up and take notice.


Finally, some stick lady that people were relentlessly thirsty for was obsessed with Ultra Beasts and also possibly a contestant for worst parent in the world.


I was left alone for a few days after that.


Then my case officer with the DUS thanked me for my time. Like I was given a choice in that matter. Then handballed off to the Unovan Department of Immigration to sort out. My state-appointed lawyer was moved out, and a new one moved in. It was, mostly, a smooth process overall.


Apparently, now that they were sure I was not a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, I had access to more information. I was what they called a Faller, apparently, people randomly turning up while rare was not unheard of. Though it was certainly more common in other parts of the world. They also usually moved across time, not dimensions.


Still, there was an actual form I had to fill out for it; the guy handing it to me was almost unnervingly giddy. Like he'd been waiting for his whole life since finding out this form existed to hand it to someone.


Glad to help.


I think.


Weirdo.


It took three weeks on top to get my paperwork sorted out. Thankfully, while cross-dimensional asylum was apparently a nightmare of paperwork, most of the information they needed was already on file. I was granted a limited Asylum-Visa to Unova, valid for the next three years, after which I would need to apply for permanent residency or citizenship.


Travel to other regions needed specific paperwork, and if my request for travel was denied by the Unovan government. Should I choose to go anyway, I would be liable for fines and possible dissolution of my Asylum-Visa.


It was all very dry and clinical.


I also got a small thank you card from the Pokémon League for my 'contributions to the study and understanding of the proposed Fairy Type'. There was a chance, albeit a small one, that I was cited in a study somewhere. I asked the Pokémon League representative who delivered it if, instead of thanks, I could be given money instead.


I got a polite laugh and a firm no.


I tossed the card as soon as she left the room.


After it was all over, they gave me the bureaucratic equivalent of a smack on the bum and punted me out into Castelia City. With three weeks in the local hostel prepaid and their 'best wishes.'


I had no job.


Little understanding of the Unovan Economy.


And no idea what to do next.


Worse still, Unova was right at the start of a recession. So most of the blue-collar work, not taken by Pokemon anyway, that I usually would have used to survive, were downsizing. Which meant getting a job was damn near impossible.


Three weeks had passed, and the hostel wanted more money. The meagre amount I was managing to scrape together from the little gig work I could pick up. Even when combined with my Job-Seeker and Immigration Integration payment I received bi-weekly, valid for one year, didn't let me stay.


Instead, I drifted from shelter to shelter. Luckily, it was summer when I arrived, being technically homeless really didn't do it for me, but I didn't have a lot of choices.


I'm sure that most people, hell, myself included, would assume that if they were in Pokémon, they would be a trainer, collect a team, and become Champion.


Great dream.


Probably not going to happen.


The economics alone put that dream in the ground for me. One baseline Pokeball, one, cost between twenty-five and thirty thousand dollars. To put that in perspective, a full week in a hostel would be about sixty-five thousand, and the equivalent of a large McDonald's meal was twenty three hundred.


I got fifty-five thousand biweekly from my welfare payments and could usually pull in another few thousand from random gigs around the city. It only took me a few days to fully appreciate the problem. Even assuming I could afford a pokeball and find a Pokémon willing to work with me, I would have just doubled, maybe even tripled, my food costs.


I had a brief, glorious dream of making money off battling. Unfortunately, that was a game mechanic. While some people did bet on the outcomes of matches, the payout was astonishingly small. Maybe enough to buy a small meal at one of the local fast food chains, nowhere near enough to offset all the other costs.


The only people making money off of Pokémon battles were the Ace Trainers, Gym Leaders, Elite Four, and the Champion. Even then, it was mostly through sponsorships. The Pokémon League was a weird mix of UFC and NGO. Sure, the Champion may have no official power to set policy, but they were also likely your region's biggest military asset and, as such, had a hell of a say in a lot.


Thankfully there hadn't been a war in this part of the world for over a hundred years.


Maybe if I'd chosen a different path when I was younger, I'd be better off. But I'd been a blue-collar worker for twelve years, and there was no changing that now. Two years unemployed and a failed degree. Seven years in kitchens and five as a truck driver. In the middle of a recession, it's hard to find any work, let alone work like that.


Eventually, more people needed to head to the shelters. The recession lost people's homes, jobs, and made life harder. Food got more expensive even as luxuries I couldn't afford came down. Soon enough, it was hard enough to get more than a night a week in a shelter. I couldn't find a single Hostel with a bed, and Hotels were right out on price alone.


So I went and grabbed a tent, sleeping bag, and small camp stove. Nothing fancy, the tent and bag weren't rated for sub-zero temperatures or the like. But it was warm and kept the wind out for the most part. So I called it a win.


Eventually, I got sick of Castelia and did the only thing that made sense: I picked up and left. I mean, I was homeless and had a tent. I could go wherever, so long as I made a weekly call in the Unovan Job-Seeker Agency.


So far, I'd made my way through Nimbasa City, Driftveil, and Mistralton City. I liked all of them about as much as I liked Castelia.


Which was to say not at all.


So here I was six months later.


The world was no longer strange, mysterious, and majestic.


It was just there.


With all of its disappointment completely intact.


I was north west of Mistralton City. Carrying what I'd managed to cobble together of a life stuffed into a secondhand hiking backpack. Aching legs, small bank account, a constant simmering undertone of deeply wanting someone to give me a reason to pick a fight.


I'd yelled at the sky, insulted God, Arceus, Mew, and everything else I could think of, trying to get them to send me home or strike me down.


Nothing.


So here I was trudging ever forward. Roughly thirty kilometres a day. Now, with the sun going down, I was looking for a place to sleep. Thankfully, I probably had two, maybe three hours' worth of daylight left. I did not want to be trying to set up in the dark.


I found a place almost an hour and a half later. Only about two hundred meters off the trail I'd been following. The sign called it Wawaka Lake, so at least the name was somewhat funny.


No one else was at the lake. I didn't see any camping prohibited signs. I probably would have ignored them if I did. Still, I'd take no neighbours. The people of Unova were friendly, but they could talk, and I hadn't been good company for months, if ever.


Then again, maybe I shouldn't be surprised, it was the first week of Autumn after all. And it got damned cold at night. The Pokémon League was starting to wrap up; anyone who hadn't defeated whoever was the Icirrus City gym leader yet would be on the main routes.


Thankfully, my tent didn't take long to set up. It was my single most expensive purchase to date at twenty thousand. But it was lightweight, barely eight hundred grams. I changed out of my increasingly abused sneakers, I was not looking forward to replacing those, another upcoming big expense, and into a pair of sandals.


It was practically dark by the time I finished my setup, and I got my small stove going.


Ideally, I would have liked to have set a fire.


Propane and propane accessories were not free.


However, that was getting harder and harder to do as the weather got colder. I threw a water purification tablet into each canteen; they were one of the few things I could call cheap. A packet of one hundred for only twenty-three hundred?


Yes please!


The freeze-dried meal I pulled out was something I was less than looking forward to. I was, mostly due to personal squick factor, a partial vegetarian in this new world. I don't care that it was acceptable for humans and Pokémon to eat other Pokémon.


It weirded me out.


Thankfully, there were still some animals in this world that were not of the pocket monster variety, mostly bugs, some fish. The fish prices were usually a hell of a lot more than I could afford.


So I bit the bullet and made freeze-dried chickpea curry. While that was busy re-hydrating, I made myself one of my few luxuries I could afford.


Cheri and Mago berry tea.


I wasn't a tea person before I can here, still wasn't really, but I for just over the price of two medium sized sodas, I could buy eighty tea bags. They were also a hell of a lot lighter to carry. It would take a few minutes, but the end was a spicy-sweet tea.


A good way to end the day, I may be homeless, angry, aching, and cold. But.....I'm sure there's supposed to be a bright side ending to that, but for the life of me, I can't think of it.


I took a deep sip of the tea after a few minutes, a little early. Then grabbed the curry and wolfed it down like a starving man. Which I only technically wasn't. I also wasn't rich enough to afford three freeze-dried meals a day. So mostly relied on a filling breakfast, powdered milk, granola, and raisins. Then some snacks, which was just a few handfuls of granola with raisins.


I took a long sip of the tea, spicy-sweet, and let out a long sigh.


"Kip."


My spine went ramrod straight immediately.


Pokémon were usually, not inherently, dangerous unless you went out of your way to annoy them. Even a Ursaring would usually give you a chance to turn around and walk away before it took you off the census.


Of course, you met a mama Ursaring, or most big mama Pokémon for that matter, and all bets were off.


But for the most part, Pokémon didn't just tear humans in half. Not without a good reason anyway. Of course, that didn't mean that one wouldn't decide they just didn't like your face and obliterate you.


The cry came from near the water's edge, and small plodding steps came closer. I tensed as the figure entered the radius of my propane fire. It was blue, mostly, with small orange fins next to its mouth, which was drawn back in a small, guileless smile, a blue fin proudly on its head.


My brain timed out for a moment. I had researched what Pokémon lived around here and their usual behaviour patterns at the Pokémon Center back in Mistralton.


I had been expecting all kinds of things.


Several dozen types of flyers. Even Cubchoo, that article had a warning attached next to it. Cubchoo down here were likely only just exploring away from their family groups. There was every likelihood that if you saw one, there was a Beartic nearby you didn't.


As such, treat a Cubchoo like seeing a Teddiursa; do not approach. If the Cubchoo approaches you, be nice. If you want to catch the Cubchoo, do not do so by battle; talk to it. And if at any moment you hear what sounds like a deep reverberating growl from nearby, leave. If that growl comes from behind you, put your head between your knees and kiss your arse goodbye.


Which is why I was utterly confused by what I was seeing. We spoke at the same time, with what I could only call an inquisitive greeting, and me in complete stupification.


"Mudkip!?" I looked down at what I knew was a native of Hoenn. They looked back up at me guilelessly and continued to plod forward.


"Mudkip." They said again.


"Nice to meet you?" I replied, my voice lilting up at the end. I examined the small Pokémon. It looked almost a little too small. Barely bigger than my forearm. Waddling up to my leg, Mudkip stopped. Pokémon were smart, smarter than the animals on Earth. This one, though, was far too comfortable around me. Either it was a trainer Pokémon, or it didn't think it had a reason to be afraid.


"Mudkip." They said again, looking at the cup in my hand.


"You...you want my tea?"


"Mudkip!" I blinked twice and placed the cup down. The small Pokémon nodded at me with a smile and began slurping.


"You're welcome," I said, slowly processing. I looked out into the night.


"Anyone there!?" I raised my voice to carry without yelling. No one answered. The Mudkip looked up, then went straight back to finishing off what was left of my tea. No one came forward, not so much as a peep.


"Kip, Mudkip." I looked back down as they slapped the cup around, a little tea now drained completely. They looked up at me with wide eyes and a smile. I sighed; they reminded me of a puppy for some reason.


"Would you like some more?"


"Mudkip!" I took that as a yes. It took a few minutes to make the tea and let it cool enough that the small mudfish wouldn't burn itself. I had to explain 'fire hot ouch' to a small creature that could actually understand me.


What the hell was my life?


"Anyone? There is a small Mudkip here if you're looking!" I called again, not really expecting an answer. I sighed as Mudkip finished off the tea and gave a wide yawn, plodding up to my leg and settling in close, closing its eyes.


"Mudkip." They let out quietly. I blinked several times brain catching up to events. I rubbed my forehead to stave off an upcoming headache. Mudkip twitched a little as its breath began to settle into sleep. I reacted like I would if the small Pokémon had been a puppy. Placing a hand on the Pokémon's head and gently petting. The twitches subsided, and Mudkip let out a contented sigh as it fully slipped into sleep.


I couldn't help the smile on my face. I liked Mudkip. Easily my favourite starter and not just because Swampert was a damned juggernaut. I let the tightness in my shoulders relax and sighed. Eyes closing, I really did need to jump into the tent and get some sleep. I'd move, but much like if a cat was on my chest, I was afraid I would wake Mudkip up if I moved.


Something shifted to my left.


Something big.


A deep rumble came out of its chest. I opened my eyes slowly. No sudden moves. Head turning to come face-to-face with a very unimpressed-looking visitor. Yellow eyes regarded me dispassionately.


"Perrt." Now I knew why the Mudkip had looked so small. Because it was a newborn or at least only a few months old at best. Big Mama Swampert looked at me, and I drew in a very deep, very slow breath. I had no desire to be completely obliterated by an angry Mama that could manipulate water and shatter boulders on a whim.


I slowly raised my left hand and pointed over to my side. Swampert moved slowly, eyes roving around my small campsite. Until she saw Mudkip, her dispassionate eyes relaxed slightly as she looked around a bit more.


"No pokeballs." I kept my voice low. Both because Mudkip was asleep and, more importantly, because being loud could be construed as being a threat. Big Mama regarded me and snagged my backpack on a single large finger, placing it on the other side of Mudkip, and pointed at the ground.


"Swampert," She rumbled lowly.


I did not relish the idea of repacking my gear.


I liked the idea of being turned into chunky salsa even less.


Slowly but surely, I cleared every pocket, placing all items on the ground and repacking them. Once I was finished, Big Mama, never taking her eyes off me, went to investigate my tent. Giving a small chuff, she turned to fully face me again.


With extremely tender care, she picked up the sleeping Mudkip and cradled them in one arm. Looking at me, she blinked slowly and then nodded.


"How long can I stay?" That didn't feel like a get out and don't come back, but I was not going to push my luck if I could avoid it. Swampert blinked slowly again, and her eyes narrowed as if considering. Before holding up two fingers.


"Two days."


"Perrt." Big Mama nodded.


"I'll be gone by the afternoon of day three." At the latest, frankly, once my heart had stopped trying to shatter my ribs, I may just pack up and run. If I could convince my aching legs to do so. She nodded again and wandered off into the night, barely making a sound, slipping into the water. I looked at the sky and felt a strong need to piss myself.


"What a fucking day."


Chapter One End.


Thanks for reading.


Hi guys, I'm porting this story over from Spacebattles. I don't have infinite time, so expect updates 3 times a week until it's caught up. If you have to get more of it now, I'd go read it over there.


Hope you're having a great week.

In the end, I stuck around for the whole two days.

My damned legs hurt after all the hiking. Besides, it finally decided to rain in the morning of the second day. I already hated walking in the rain. I was not doing it if I didn't have to.

Mudkip kept turning up. The little guy, I asked Big Mama about that, was completely fearless. Like most kids, he didn't know enough to be afraid. I was happy enough to have Mudkip around. He was cute, inquisitive, and gave me someone to talk to that wasn't myself.

Unless I did something very obviously threatening. It was pretty unlikely that Big Mama would explode my shoulder grapefruit. While she absolutely terrified me on the first night, the Swampert was actually pretty easy to get along with.

Mind her space, mind her kid, don't fish in her lake, and give her the occasional Cheri and Mago berry tea. Oh, and leave on time. She had made that part abundantly clear. Coming right up to me after her evening tea on night two and folding down two of her three fingers. Then, pointing to the horizon, raising three fingers, and pointing back towards the road.

What was a lot more interesting was Big Mama's backstory. I had weaned it out of her over the last two days through the use of a lot of tea. Even then, it took more charades than I was completely comfortable with.

Best as I could tell, someone had grabbed her back when she was a Marshtomp; she'd had a trainer at some point. I think. Whoever it was, they had brought her here, not the lake, Unova. But she'd managed to get away and settle around here. Best as I could tell, the lake was her Autumn and Winter home. During Spring and Summer, she retreated deeper into the forest to avoid most people.

I was probably missing a lot of context, but charades can really only get one so far.

"Mudkip!" I was unsurprised by my guest. The little one had made it a habit to turn up in the camp at dawn and eat some of my breakfast. I would be more annoyed, but he was a cute little bugger. Besides, he didn't eat so much I worried about my supply.

It was a bit of a novelty that someone enjoyed my breakfast.

Lord knew I didn't.

Whoever had the gall to call it powdered milk deserved to be murdered, slowly.

I grabbed the hollowed-out wooden bowl his mother had left me after the first morning, put a bit of breakfast in there, and placed it back down.

"Kip!" Well, he was happy at least. I grabbed the second wooden bowl and began boiling some water.

"Swampert." Big Mama greeted me with a waved hand and a small froggy smile when she saw the tea. Looking down at Mudkip, making sure the little guy was busy, she looked back up at me, held up three fingers, and pointed towards the road.

"By noon." I agreed, she nodded and began drinking the tea slowly, savouring every drop. Unlike her son, who usually hammered it down as fast as possible. Speaking of which, Mudkip licked the last of the bowl and proceeded to plod his way over to me and bit the cuff of my pants.

I spent my morning under the watchful eye of Big Mama, being dragged around by the young Mudkip, who was still absolutely entranced by the world around him. A few hours short of noon, the Swampert ambled over, scooped up Mudkip, and began plodding away. Giving me a chance to pack up my things without being interrupted.

It didn't take too long. I had to leave at noon, but I knew the outside of the tent wouldn't be completely dry by then. So I left it standing awhile longer, the later the better. I made the choice to splurge a little.

I should reach the town of Geddes in three, maybe four, days.

I had supplies for seven.

I heated up a pack of spicy mushroom curry and placed a hydro-enhance orange tablet into my canteen. Then began wolfing the curry down as fast as I could. Experience had taught me that while Big Mama and Mudkip may like my Cheri and Mago berry tea. They vastly preferred spicy to sweet. Big Mama had the control not to come and beg me for the curry; Mudkip did not.

Learned that the hard way.

Also learned that I fold like Superman on laundry day when he turns up the cuteness.

"Mudkip!" The indigent squeak echoed as he charged over the ground toward me. Right as I finished up the last of the curry.

"Sorry, little guy, all finished." I put the packet into the sealed bag I kept. Couldn't just dispose of it out here. There was a rainwater tank, and the toilet nearby was kept clean with some kind of chemical mix at the bottom that helped dissolve waste until the Rangers, or whatever contractor was hired, got out here to change it.

But there were no handy trash cans around. I was not about to litter in Big Mama's winter home if I could help it.

"Swampert." Speaking of which, she ambled up behind her son and raised a single eyebrow like ridge while looking at my tent.

It wasn't quite disapproval.

But it was close.

"Wanted to let it dry as much as I could before putting it away." I clarified, "Now I've had an early lunch, I'll pack it up and get going." She nodded.

"Mudkip!" Her son, meanwhile, didn't like that. Coming over and bit the cuff of my trousers to pull me around again.

"Swampert." Big Mama spoke and picked up her son in one deceptively gentle hand. I got a front row seat to Mudkip pouting, it was just as adorable as you'd think. I was not a tall man, and Big Mama was smaller than me.

But when she straightened up on two legs and rose up to her full height of four seven, my heart jumped into my throat. A three-fingered hand, unoccupied by an adorable pouting Mudkip. Rested on my head and ruffled my hair a little.

"Swampert." She said and gave me a warm, if mischievous, froggy grin.

Then, she walked away.

"Mind if I come back again?" I couldn't help it; the words just slipped out. She stopped, cocked her head to one side for a moment, then turned around and nodded just once.

"Pert."

"But not for a while." I understood her meaning quickly.

"Swampert." With a final nod, she and her son disappeared into the lake.

I didn't see them again before I left.

Time blurred a little after I left. Passing ever onward with cold wind, sore legs, and the occasional hole I needed to dig for when there just wasn't a toilet around. The, quite possibly fourth-hand, jacket I had picked up back in Driftveil was nearing its last legs.

The road was taking me North West. Up and away from Mistralton and into the rural areas. I was hours away from the nearest city, even if I'd had a car. Part of me had played with the idea of going even further north.

Out past Anville town and into the Fiore region.

It died stillborn.

The paperwork would be murder and take weeks. Then, if they even allowed me to leave, I'd still face all the same problems I did in Unova, only now I'd be somewhere else and not have the welfare payments to fall back on.

I doubted that Fiore was recession-free.

The banks of Unova caused theirs by giving out a whole heap of subprime mortgages to people who could barely afford them. Then, when the housing market started to crash, the entire economy shit the bed. I'd seen something similar back in two thousand eight.

In more immediately pressing news. The clouds weren't looking good. I was probably going to be rained on before I made it to Geddes. I didn't have a watch. But the sun told me it was a little past noon.

I'd arrive a few hours after sundown. Maybe I should camp instead. I wasn't planning to rent a room after all.

I took my lunch near the edge of the small river I'd been following, and by lunch I meant a few handfuls of granola with water. Along with the excuse to sit down for an hour. I caught a few glimpses of some Azurill.

One jumped out and started walking towards me fearlessly. The Azumarill it was traveling with practically flew out of the water to grab the wayward child.

"Bit of a troublemaker?" I asked, trying to control my chuckles. The Pokémon parent gave me a look of long suffering and a nod before it jumped back into the water with its charge, heading downstream.

I set off again.

Heading upstream following the twisting river, the track I was on paralleled the nearby road. It was almost an hour later when I smelled grease on the wind; someone had an accident or was servicing a car.

I could hear whines, cracks, and pops.

Not a good sound.

I picked up the pace.

Rounding the next corner showed me the remains of what could only be a wild Pokémon attack. The truck was on its side, the bonnet almost completely ruined. The driver's side had been turned into so much torn metal.

The lack of blood was the only thing that made this whole thing a bit better. The tray had been cleanly sheared through the back half of it, thrown several meters away near the riverbank. The wheels on the driver's side had been punctured by stones.

Ripped-up trees heading away from the site were the only indication of where the Pokémon that did this had gone. I didn't hear anything, so this probably happened hours ago. Time to get the hell out of here.

I wasn't sure what would cause a Pokémon to want to rip a truck apart.

But I wasn't in a rush to meet the one who did it.

I liked not dying a painful death.

Thanks.

I took off at a light jog, intent on putting all this behind me. Reporting it at the Pokémon Center in Geddes and letting the Rangers take care of this one. I was just some guy with a bunch of secondhand hiking equipment and a chip on his shoulder.

I stopped after a half dozen steps.

I heard something.

Nothing big.

If it had been a tree crashing I'd have been sprinting not stopping. I waited for a minute, nothing, not a whisper. I turned to go, my foot hitting a small rock and causing it to skip away.

The sound came again, muffled but there, a high-pitched squawk. Too deep to be a bird. Caution warred with curiosity and lost. I picked up a rock and threw it at the wreck of the truck, hard. It bounced off with a harsh 'ping', and the squawk came again near the river. I advanced slowly and looked over the bank.

Nothing.

I picked up another rock and threw it in. The loud plop caused another squawk to erupt, this one a little weaker than the others. It also helped me pinpoint what I had been searching for, whatever Pokémon was making that sound, and I was reasonably sure it was a Pokémon. Was trapped under the torn half of the truck's bed.

Probably young or hurt. Otherwise, it would have lifted the bed or dug out from underneath it. Assuming it could move and wasn't pinned to the ground by the metal.

"Alright, I'm going to get you out of there," I said loudly, letting whatever it was know that I'd found it. This time, there was no reply. I didn't know if that was because it was too weak to make one or had a natural fear of humans.

I took a moment to get a good look at the truck's bed. Whatever had torn it off must have thrown it high into the air. Because a good three-quarters of the rim was buried three inches into the ground.

The only part I could get a good grip on was the jagged metal end where it had been torn off. Three heaves later, and all I had achieved was cutting up parts of my hands and moving the edge, very slightly, upward. I licked at my wounds and looked back down at the slab of metal.

"You okay?" I asked and got a weak, almost hesitant, call back.

Okay, new plan.

Better plan.

I looked around for a moment, seeing a large branch from one of the downed trees.

That could work.

It took a few minutes of digging to fit it under the tray, but at least this way wasn't cutting my hands up.

I heaved on the branch. Half a truck bed began to move up slowly. It took five minutes of pushing, pulling, swearing, and several calls to whatever was stuck to make sure it was okay, and moving the bed wasn't harming it. Before I got the tray wedged up far enough that it refused to move.

It had taken a few minutes, but I got a clear look at what I was trying to help.

It was emaciated, and I could see some bad bruising where the tray had pinned it to the ground. Several deep scratches certainly wouldn't have helped the case. Being side on and unable to lift the tray due to malnutrition was probably the only reason it hadn't been able to free itself.

"Gible." I breathed. Its scale colour was off, and some were missing. Revealing inflamed skin beneath. The small shark Pokémon kept its single open eye on me. It knew it was at my mercy as much as I did.

It gave a weak squawk when I said its name. Maybe too weak to even 'speak.' I reached forward, and it tried to flinch back but didn't have the strength to do so.

"I'm going to have to pull you out; it's going to hurt." I kept my voice low to try to keep the small Pokémon calm. But I wasn't going to lie. The small shark let out a wheeze and closed its open eye.

I grabbed onto its stubby arms.

Its skin was rough like sandpaper.

I pulled slowly but surely, increasing strength until they were drawn towards me. The shark whimpered several times before I could get it to the edge of the tray. I rolled free, bringing Gible with me.

Its breathing was ragged, eyes closed.

I had little that could help; my backpack had a few bandages, but I had no idea what a Gible was supposed to eat, and it definitely hadn't for a while. I stood, carefully laying the shark down and slinging on my backpack.

My mind snapped some things together.

Swampert was a Hoenn native. Gible belonged to Sinnoh. Big Mama had been pretty clear that she'd been taken against her will from wherever she was before. The Swampert and Garchomp lines weren't what you'd call common.

In the games at least.

I was willing to bet it wasn't that different in 'reality', whatever that word was worth anymore.

Between that and the wrecked truck, I did not like the picture that was being painted.

I grimaced and tightened the backpack's straps. I'd been decently overweight when I'd been forcefully relocated. After a few months of eating little and hiking often. I was merely chunky. A few years back, when I'd been trying to get into shape, I was able to jog six kilometres in forty minutes after a few months of preparation. Hopefully, my body was in good enough condition to do a bit more than that.

There were sixteen kilometres left before Geddes.

I was carrying a backpack full of all my worldly possessions, about twenty kilos. An emaciated land shark, in addition to my sore legs.

I took off jogging.

It didn't take long before my breath began to come out in ragged gasps. I forced my breathing into a rhythm. If I let that fall off, it was going to get even harder. It already wasn't going to be easy. Stay on the balls of your feet. Try not to fall over.

Thankfully, the road didn't fork.

Because I wouldn't be able to start jogging again if I had to stop for any reason.

As my heart sped up and my breathing became increasingly heavy.

I kept jogging, my lower back was starting to cramp, and I was pretty sure that if my lungs were independent entities, they'd crawl out of my mouth and murder me. My legs would probably help if given half a chance. My arms were aching. I could only wish my mouth were bone dry. Instead, my spit had become goopy, thick, and almost clogging.

Breathing got harder.

Maybe I should have left my backpack?

Carrying twenty kilos less would have been welcome.

No stopping now.

Because if I stopped moving, I wouldn't start again.

Gible wasn't doing well either. They were shuddering. Clearly in pain. Sometimes their eyes opened for a few seconds, and they fought to get out of my arms. If they had looked somewhat healthy, I wouldn't have even tried to hold on.

Instead, I tightened my grip and kept jogging onward. The land sharks' breathing was even more ragged than mine. Worse, I was pretty sure it was getting slower.

That wasn't good.

I could feel blisters forming, then bursting, in my shoes.

I kept jogging.

I began crying in pain. My nose is dripping. Snot inside my mouth. I spit it back out.

My back screamed out, my backpack wore skin away slowly but surely, blisters forming and tearing.

I kept jogging.

I threw up. Barely turning my head in time to only soak my right arm instead of my chest and Gible. The smell and acid pushing up my throat made me throw up again.

I kept jogging.

I barely noticed the houses increasing around me.

Until I saw it.

A light shaped like a pokeball. I moved towards it more in a staggering trot than a jog by now.

The door opened my ragged breathing drowned out any sound.

The man behind the counter looked up at me, and his face twisted.

I lumbered to the counter and placed Gible down as gently as I could.

I let my legs give out, sliding down into a heap at the foot of the counter.

I looked up into the worried face of the man.

I couldn't even feel embarrassed.

"Medic." I slurred the word out and let my head rest against the counter.

I should probably be a lot more concerned with the number of police interviews I needed to do since arriving in Unova. I mean, before I got dropped here, I'd only needed to do three, one of which was a formality.

Thankfully, Ben, the nurse on shift, had been nice enough to let me get cleaned up using the showers; he'd even taken my clothes for laundry. Which I was only too happy to agree to.

It did mean I was wearing some of the random clothes left in the Pokémon Center's lost and found. None of which fit quite right. But they were free, and I was going to concoct a reason to keep them. Free anything was always welcome. Especially since I was reasonably sure my sneakers now firmly had their best days behind them.

"Mr. Johnstone?" I refocused, my mind was drifting, and I needed some sleep. Brown hair, green eyes, wearing a Unova police uniform, light blue button-up, red shoulders, dark blue pants. Her hat had already been left on the table between us.

"Sorry. Having a little trouble focusing." I held my hands up in surrender.

"I understand it's been a long day, Mr. Johnstone. But I promise you'll be out as soon as possible. I just need to go over this one more time." I nodded. Deputy Yates was just doing her job. Don't snap at her.

"Your full legal name is Nigel Ross Johnstone, though you usually go by Nash."

"Yes."

The questions she asked were simple and direct. The Who, What, When, Where, and Why of my little escapade. I picked up a little extra information. The wrecked truck had apparently been a Statesman. We circled my testimony one more time. I wasn't one hundred percent on the truck.

"Ah, right, you're a Faller." Deputy Yates said like it answered everything. I felt a muscle in my jaw jump as it involuntarily tightened.

"Yeah." Thankfully, she was professional enough not to ask.

"Moving on, you found the vehicle, assumed to be a Statesman J45, had its front, or engine block, as you put it, destroyed, and half of the tray torn off and, you believe, thrown."

"Yes, that's right. Actually, if you don't mind me asking, why do you seem confused by me calling it an engine block?" She blinked and shrugged.

"I just haven't heard it called that before. Depending on the make, it's usually a storage area or battery compartment."

I shook my head, right. They'd only ever developed Electric vehicles. Hell of a lot easier to make it work with an electric-type Pokémon. They'd probably never needed engine blocks. Something else to get used to.

"Right, sorry for getting off topic."

"It's fine. Now, your original intent was to leave the area. Your stated reason is that with what you believed to be a wild Pokémon attacking a vehicle, you felt unsafe. Is this correct?"

We went back to my statement. Hearing a noise. Finding Gible. Levering up the bed. If we kept going round and round like this, I was going to start doubting my own memories.

"When you arrived local Pokémon Center, you handed Gible over for treatment. After which Deputy Collins conducted an initial interview. Does this series of events match your recollection?"

It did, I told her as much. Though her version left out me hooked up to a saline drip. Being healed by medical technology that was basically magic as far as I could tell.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Johnstone." She turned off the recorder.

"No problem." I lied. I may not have better things to be doing right now. But I absolutely would not be here if I had a real choice in the matter. My legs were still aching. They'd barely be in working order for another few days. Apparently, pain and stiffness were common side effects of healing.

"Would you mind indulging a personal question?" My jaw jumped again. Something pounded in my skull. 'Faller' didn't mean I was a fucking zoo exhibit.

I grunted in what could generously be called agreement.

I didn't do what I wanted.

Telling Deputy Yates to go deep throat a cactus.

"Why did you run here with the Gible instead of leaving it and coming back with help?" I blinked twice. The question completely wrong-footed me.

"I...I uh...don't really know."

"You don't know?" She sounded incredulous.

"Yeah, I didn't even think of leaving it. I knew it was hurt, and I didn't know how long it had so I just picked it up and started jogging."

I couldn't say running.

"I didn't even start thinking about other options until I was already in the Pokémon Center." My admittance was sheepish. Officer Yates looked genuinely shocked for a moment before she let out a quick hyena, or Poochyena, I guess, laugh. I would be lying if I said it didn't annoy me a bit. Some people had infectious laughs, Deputy Yates' sounded like it mugged people on their way home.

"Thank you for indulging me. Would you like a lift back to the Pokémon Center?"

"I would love one, thank you." That was a deal I could jump on. The Cruiser she led me to outside the station was a make I'd seen before. I had no idea of the manufacturer. It just looked like a sedan.

But the seats were comfy, and that's what mattered most.

"Sooo, what's with all the out-of-region Pokémon around?" I was bored and couldn't help but poke at it.

"Noticed that, did you?"

"I'm walking from place to place, I make it a point to know what I could run into and how dangerous it may be."

"Not really sure." I snorted.

"No, really. Not sure. We haven't got a solid answer yet. Only theories. Could be a migration. Could be smuggling. Could be something completely different."

Smuggling added up with what I knew.

I hadn't mentioned Big Mama to the police. I didn't think she'd take to nicely to a bunch of humans turning up all at once, looking to have a word, or worse, catch and relocate her and Mudkip. She'd done me a solid letting me stay and not turning me inside out. I'd do her one in turn.

"Tell me anything about that smuggler theory?" I kept my voice light.

"Sorry, Mr. Johnstone. Just a theory, and if it were more than that, I couldn't speak on any sort of ongoing investigation." How annoyingly professional.

It was not a long drive back to the Pokémon Center.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Johnstone. We've paid for you to stay in the Pokémon Center's trainer lodgings for the next two weeks. Just in case we need to speak to you regarding this case. In the event that the investigation goes longer or the Department of Unovan Security wishes for you to stay in town so they can interview you, that stay may be extended." I nodded.

"If you wish to leave Warren County, you will need to give us a location you are traveling to, the expected time of arrival, and the route you are travelling by. This is just to make sure we know where you are if you are needed further for the investigation. Do you understand these instructions as I have given them to you?"

"I do." I looked straight into her body cam and fought the urge to pull a stupid face.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnstone. Have a great evening, and thank you for helping that Gible."

"Have a good evening, too, Deputy Yates." I grit my teeth as I exited the truck and hissed air between my teeth, legs screaming protests. I swore under my breath in a way that would have my mother rolling her eyes or applauding. I waddled my way inside the Pokémon Center.

"Nash! How did it go!?" Ben, the Pokémon Nurse, called from behind the main desk. In a small town like Geddes off the main routes, he didn't have a lot to distract him. I was probably the most interesting thing to happen in months.

"Fine. I'm in your trainer accommodation for two weeks."

"Yeah, the Sheriff's Department called about that."

"Sooooo." I elongated the word for lack of anything real to say.

"Anything to do around here for someone with no money that doesn't include hiking?"

"No, not really."

"Shit."

"Sorry. If you do find yourself with a bit of extra cash. We've got a jail museum up on the hill, a few miniature trains around, the Cowen Brewery is open on the weekend for tours, and the Geddes Tavern has a pretty good Taco Tuesday."

"Thanks." I gave him a smile and ambled Center PC. I hadn't had much luck with these in the past. Most jobs were at least trainer adjacent. Like chase the Patrat out of my garden, speaking of which, it looked like the Cowen Brewery was having that exact problem.

I filtered out all the jobs that required transport or a Pokémon. The list went from twenty pages to one. But this was for the whole Warren County area. Only one fit my needs of being close enough to walk to. Even if it was going to hurt.

Park Recycling Services.

The job looked fairly intensive and carried a three-month contract. With the possibility of extension if the extra work persisted. It paid twenty-one hundred an hour for the month I'd spend untrained, increasing to twenty-three hundred an hour once that month was up.

Even if it was only a three-month contract.

To me?

That was practically the Holy Grail.

There were, however, some downsides.

Six-hour shifts. Six days a week. Plus a one-hour lunch. Start was five in the morning. I brought up a map and traced it with my finger. Probably an hour's walk there and back. Maybe two with my legs the way they were.

For seventy-five thousand a week?

I'd deal with it.

My pay was a reliable fifty-five thousand biweekly, and I was barely keeping my head above water. This could actually give me a buffer, maybe even start some savings. Especially if whoever was in charge was willing to pay me cash in hand. My welfare payments went down with declared earnings.

Which is why I preferred not declaring them.

I sent off an email to the address asking for an interview.

"How's Gible?" I asked Ben, only half expecting an answer.

"Still asleep, should wake up tomorrow or the day after, Mary reckons." The Audio Nurse waved when she heard her name. I gave her a nod in return as she went back to doing...whatever it was she did.

"We also found out the Gible is a girl." I resisted asking how they knew. It was a shark. I had vague memories about fins, nothing I cared enough to inquire about.

"Any plans about what to do about i-her?"

"Not really, we shouldn't release her into the local population. She's non-native. We do have a small population of Aggron to the west the Haxorus in the mountains North. So it's very possible she'll reproduce, and while one Gible won't upset the local ecosystem...."

"A few generations of them could." I finished as he trailed off.

"Yeah, we're probably going to have to place her up for adoption. But that has its own problems."

"Worried you'll get too many trainers?"

"More worried she'd maul them." I raised an eyebrow.

"Dragons are... temperamental at the best of times. Most Pokemon who don't want to work with a trainer will just break out of the Poké Ball, maybe break the ball, and leave. A Dragon may do that, but it's also just as likely to give you some scars to remember it on the way out. Assuming you live through it." Ben waved his hands.

"Don't get me wrong. We'll still try for adoption. We've got a guy here who knows his dragons; he'll be handling most of that side of things. But it will need to be very controlled. Plus, I'm also worried about smugglers." I looked at him sharply.

"I'm a nurse, not an idiot." Ben's voice was almost acidic.

"I was one of the first people to notice the increase in non-native Pokémon. With that and your story about the truck, it didn't take a lot to put two and two together. I'm afraid that if we put Gible up for adoption, they'll try to get her back. All in all, we'll probably have to give her up to the Rangers."

"What would the Rangers do?"

"Well, since we don't know where she came from. They'd probably send her to a release program in Alola."

Alola was nice.

Well, if the half memories I had were any indication. She could do a hell of a lot worse. I checked my email, I already had a return from Park.

My interview would be a working interview tomorrow, starting at five. I'd be paid for the day even if I didn't get the full contract. I fired off my acceptance and checked the time. A little after seven pm. I needed to get to bed and rest. Tomorrow wasn't going to be fun.

"I see, I'm going to bed Ben. Gotta be up early tomorrow."

"Alright, if you're up early, you'll probably catch Mindy on night shift when you leave."

"Got it."

Sleep was good.

Waking up before dawn still sucked all kinds of balls, though.

I met Mindy for the first time, leaving the Pokémon Center. As well as Hayden, the night Nurse Chancy. Interesting pair. Apparently, they'd taken the night shift because it paid an extra fifteen hundred an hour for a twelve-hour shift that was pretty good money.

I'd been right about my legs slowing me down.

It took almost two hours to reach Park Recycling Services.

The Recycling Centre itself was outside of Geddes. I'd had to walk down several back roads to get there. If it weren't for the large signs, I would have gotten lost.

I knocked on the gate and wiped the sweat off my face.

"I'm comin'." The voice was feminine, but harsh. The door swung open, and I was faced with a woman who's face reminded me of tanned leather with steel grey hair and brown eyes.

"You Nash?" I had to hold back my comment of 'expecting someone else?' No point blowing the interview before it started.

"Yes, ma'am." Sometimes it paid to be polite. Quite hopefully, literally in this case.

"Names Willow Park, come in, and we'll get down to it." She turned around and marched inside. I waddled after her. "What's wrong with your legs? You're gonna be on your feet for the whole shift if you've got problems, this ain't the job for you." Her voice wasn't unkind, but it was no nonsense.

I gave her a compressed version of my last forty eight hours, she nodded.

"Good thing you did. Won't guarantee you the job. But I do like a man with gumption." She nodded and showed me around the large lot we were on. It looked like a wreckers yard.

"Alright, so here's the job." She pointed to one of the cars.

"When we buy these things, we need to break them down. Separate out the electric motors, take out the batteries, and the like. Now the main battery has already been removed. But there are a few sub-batteries I'll teach you to take out. You'll place the batteries here," She pointed to a large container. "Aggron will take them over to the Grimer to dispose of." I blinked slowly.

"Aggron?"

"Heh, partner, he didn't notice ya. Your boulder impersonation is getting better." What I had assumed to be a large rock next to the cars stood up to its full height of over two meters. I was not a tall man, but I was fairly broad. A foot wider at the chest than most, and this Godzilla reject made me both look and feel small.

It gave a grumble in its chest after staring through my soul with bright blue eyes and marched off towards the other end of the yard.

"Holy hell." I didn't realise I'd been holding my breath.

"Heh, you're gonna need to get used to him, his wife, and their kids if you're gonna stick around. They're a very important part of the business."

"Got it," I muttered, still half out of it.

She kept going, giving me the process of stripping the car down. What items went to which bins when to call Aggon, or his wife. Who I mentally dubbed Mrs. Aggron. Once Willow was finished, she brushed her hands off and rolled her shoulders.

"Alright, let's see how you do. We'll do two cars at the same time, I'll show you what to do, and you copy. We'll break for lunch at eight a.m., then get back to it after. You'll get outta here about twelve. By that time, we'll both know if you're the right fit."

"Alright, let's do it," I said with more enthusiasm than I really felt. She gave me a smile that would have felt more at home on a shark.

The day will be hard.

A man said that back on Earth, before he was dismembered.

I could understand the sentiment.

This was not an easy job; it was hard on the body, and I could barely keep up with Willow. When we broke for lunch, my whole body was covered in sweat. On the bright side, I had gotten used to Aggron, his wife Aggron. Their small legion of children, the Grimer and Trubbish.

"Any questions?" Willow asked, munching on a sandwich.

"A few, how does this whole recycling thing work?"

"You're gonna have to be more specific."

"I mean, I get breaking down the cars, but how do you recycle the rest of them by feeding them to Pokémon?" She looked at me like I was an idiot.

"You simple boy?" I knew a euphemism for retarded when I heard it. Hell, I'd used that one. But considering this was probably common knowledge even to children, I could see why she asked. I pulled my ID and flicked it to her. Willow scanned it up and down, eyes widened for a moment. "Faller?"

"Yeah." She nodded slowly.

"Can see you don't wanna talk about it, so I won't ask." For which I was thankful.

"Recycling, now the Grimer getting the batteries is the easy part. They'll break down all the nasty stuff inside, making it safe to handle. Then we ship them to another facility for a small commission, where they extract all the valuable materials from it. The textiles are shipped to a different facility where they're broken down and re-woven by humans and Leavanny."

"It's the metals and plastics where I make most of my money. The Trubbish, once they eat the plastic, will eventually pass it back out in small chips, perfect for being melted down and reformed. So long as I keep track of what kind of plastic is fed to them and when, I can be almost certain of the makeup of each piece. We lose about ten percent of the material to the Trubbish, but unlike other methods, the Trubbish's diet means that the plastic won't degrade to the point of uselessness after two or three passes round."

"As for the metal, it's much the same with the Aron. They eat the metal, and we lose about ten to fifteen percent of it, but so long as they're on a good diet that's all we'll lose, and their leavings can easily be melted back into usable bars."

"Why don't we strip the plastic coverings off wires?"

"Would take too long for too little return. While eating too much plastic isn't good for Aron, just like eating too much ice cream ain't good for a person. A small amount is just fine. Besides, they like the taste."

"So how am I doing so far?"

"You're slower than I'd like. But you got heart, and that counts for a lot. Ask me again at the end of the day."

We went back to the cars. Every now and then, I needed to nudge an Aron away from my workspace. They were pretty cute, all things considered. But I was extra careful with them, because both Aggron were watching and I was under no illusions that they wouldn't pull me in half if I was too rough.

There was an image I didn't need.

By the time twelve pm rolled around, I was breathing hard and covered in more sweat than at any time except when I ran Gible to the Pokémon Center. But I thought I'd done pretty well, hopefully well enough.

"Alright. I'll admit I'd been hoping for someone with more experience and who could work faster. But you kept up well enough, and I think in a week or two, while you still won't be able to keep up with me, I'll be able to trust you to take a car apart without me watching your every move. Jobs yours. If you still want it." I had a big, sweaty smile on my face. The first one I'd had from human interaction in a long time.

"I would love the job." Willow laughed at my words and gave a shark-like grin.

"Any objections to cash in hand? Save me some paperwork." The grin I gave her should have been criminal; in fact, it probably was.

"None at all."

"Alrighty then, be back here at five tomorrow. You and I only get Sundays off from now on."

"Yes, ma'am!" She laughed, closing the doors to the Recycling Yard. I turned about and began walking through the back roads towards Geddes, and didn't pass a single car the whole time. This place really was out of the way.

"Ben?" I called walking through the front doors. I was pretty sure he was on day shift. My answer was a crash and bang, accompanied by a yell of 'Audino!' at what was probably the top of Mary's lungs.

"Out here, help!" Ben sounded more than a little frazzled. I forced my legs into the closest thing to a run they were capable of. It was not pretty. I turned into the back room, skidding a little on the lino. Ben and Mary were at the far end of the room. Backed into a corner.

Ben was holding a chair out in front of him like it was a shield.

Half of it had been cleanly bitten away.

Standing on her stubby legs, Gible stared at the two growling. She noticed me out of the corner of her eye, and half tuned before realising who I was. The growl settled, and she blinked slowly. I, being the dumbass I was, said the first thing that came to mind.

"Hey, you, finally awake."

Thanks, brain.

The fact I was not immediately mauled by the adorable land shark proved that Gible had far more self-control than me. One of her eyes remained on me, the other on Ben and Mary. But she wasn't growling, I'd take it as a victory.

"Do you think I can move?" Ben asked, not lowering what was left of his chair.

Smart man.

"You're the expert." He took a single very slow step towards me. Gible's full attention snapped back to him the second he started to move. She snarled, lips pulling back to make her fangs even more apparent, and a lot less adorable. Her legs tensed, getting ready to jump.

Well. I had a good idea of where the other half of the chair went, at least.

"Wait!" Gible didn't stop baring her fangs. But she didn't jump, and more importantly, she stopped snarling.

"He's a friend, okay. We're all friends here." I had no idea if she was listening to me or just aware that she was now outnumbered three to one. I looked at the Pokémon Nurse. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

"I don't know!" I stared at him like he'd grown a second head.

"I didn't take Dragon Type Behavioural Studies!" Ben defended himself. I blinked. That was an elective? I mean, dragons were rare but....I was getting off topic.

"What do you think I should try?" I hissed.

"Anything!" Great advice. Ten out of ten. Five stars. Two thumbs up. Totally not completely useless and probably gonna get me killed. I took a step forward. Gible didn't move.

"We're alright, okay. You're safe." I pitched my voice low. Like I would if speaking to a skittish dog, and took another step forward. Now I was close enough that Gible could take a shot at me. I felt my muscles tense reflexively. As though tensing them could stop me from getting a hole punched through me. I leaned a little to my right, away from Ben, if I needed to jump.

Gible didn't try to tear me in half for approaching. I bent aching legs and dropped a hand onto her head as gently as I could. I marvelled again at her rough skin. I'd never pet a shark before, and a small childlike part of me was giddy about getting the chance. Probability of painful death by tiny dragon notwithstanding. Gible stopped showing her fangs but didn't take her eyes off Ben and Mary.

"Can I move now?"

"Why don't you try it and find out?" No, I wasn't bitter about his earlier lack of any useful advice at all.

Ben took a step towards the door. Gible tracked him but didn't do anything more. Mary followed. I kept my hand on her head. I had no idea if it was helping, but it certainly didn't seem to make things worse. Plus, if she tried to turn around and take a chunk of me, maybe I'd be able to throw her somewhere else. The two made it halfway to the door without any reaction.

Though Ben still kept his guardian chair between him and Gible. Smart man. He looked towards the far side of the room, where his medical equipment was.

"We didn't actually get to the check-up." Brave. I would not have been willing to try again after what had just happened. Not necessarily smart, but brave. He took a step towards the table. Placing me between the land shark and him. I felt Gible's muscles tense further and pet her head again.

Ben needed to skirt a chair and took a single step towards me. Gible went feral. She snarled and threw herself between us, lips peeled back and a purple-blue glow emanating from her mouth.

Ben moved on autopilot. So did I. He threw himself backward. I dove down. Wrapping both arms around Gible. Pulling her back into me. I turned so whatever beam of 'fuck Ben the Pokemon Nurse in particular' was aimed at a wall. Probably the most awkward hug I'd ever given.

I also realised I'd just grabbed a really pissed-off shark.

Not my best move.

I closed my eyes and braced for pain. And braced...and braced. I opened my eyes slowly. Gible wiggled in my arms, turning to face me with a look on her face like I was an idiot.

Fair.

"Gible." She said, I blinked.

"Ben is a friend." I couldn't quite believe this was my day. "We don't incinerate friends."

"Gible." Her eyes narrowed looking over my shoulder, she didn't believe me, and now I was arguing with a two foot tall land shark.

Still not my weirdest day.

"I promise he's just trying to help, I'll stay right here with you, and if he tries anything shady..." I looked to the roof as though there I would find a decent answer.

"You can eat him?" I dutifully ignored the indignant 'hey' shouted from behind me.

"Gible." Clearly, she didn't buy my half-arsed attempt at conflict resolution either.

"Audi, Audino." Mary, bless her, tried. Gible looked over my shoulder at her, then back to me.

"Gible Gib Gible."

"Audino."

"Is it working?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know!?"

"You're holding her."

"Well, she's not currently trying to kill you, Ben, take the win."

"Audin." Mary's voice said over my shoulder, and she slowly turned me around to face her. Considering Gible didn't try to rip her in half. I assumed negotiations went well. I slowly unwrapped my arms, Gible stayed firmly in my lap. I went to shift her, but Mary's look of warning stopped me.

Great.

I loved being part of negotiations I couldn't understand, but was apparently a prize in.

"Gib." Gible sat, well, more flopped, onto her behind in my lap.

"Can I move now?" Ben asked, Gible's eyes tracking him. Mary looked to him, pointed at the medical equipment, and nodded. He didn't look fully convinced but started moving with exaggerated slowness.

"Any advice?" He called voice low as though Gible couldn't perfectly hear his every word, and I knew what the hell I was doing.

"I don't know? Explain every procedure and hope she doesn't kill you?"

"Great advice." He hissed.

Almost as useful as yours.

I didn't say it.

But I thought it really loudly.

"God damn it, man. I'm a Faller, how the hell am I supposed to know!?" I really did hate people bringing up my status. But I was in no way above abusing it whenever and wherever I could. I'd never claimed not to be a hypocrite.

"Good point." He reached the table full of gizmos and doodads. Gible rumbled, a growl not quite vocalised, I rubbed her belly. I remember reading somewhere that sharks liked belly rubs. No idea if it was true, but since Gible didn't seem likely to turn me inside out. Seemed a safe an idea as any.

She relaxed slightly.

My inner child screamed with glee.

"Okay, okay, keep calm, Ben, you can do this." The nurse said, picking up a small, almost ratchet-like, device. Points for confidence, I guess.

"Alright, so Gible." She didn't answer, but her eyes did narrow. I meanwhile, was ready to either throw her and run for it or spin her away from the earnest Nurse if / when she decided homicide was back on the agenda.

"This is called an otoscope." Ben placed the narrow head of the thingy into his own ear for a few seconds, and the screen on the back lit up.

"It lets us check that your hearing is okay and nothing is wrong there. Would you mind if I checked your ears?" Gible pulled back a little. I rubbed her belly and gave a whisper of encouragement. She gave Ben a very sour look, but submitted and allowed the Pokemon Nurse to give her a check up.

Time sort of blurred together after that. Another nurse stuck his head in, saw what was happening, gave a thumbs up, and retreated. I didn't blame him. I spent most of my time coaxing Gible into whatever test that Ben felt he needed to run.

Though I was pretty sure they would have been another murder attempt if I hadn't argued on Ben's behalf when he brought out the syringe for a blood test. Even I didn't feel safe when Gible had begun growling at the suggestion, and I was the only thing in the room she hadn't tried to kill.

Thankfully, while it took a look of wrangling, she did agree. Ben was gleeful for more than one reason. The blood work, in addition to the sample he'd taken when she first came in, would help him refine her nutrition plan. Even with the Pokémon healing moves and technology speeding up the medical process. You still needed to eat right, apparently.

He even had some hope that the small amount of blood he'd send off to the labs would help him narrow down Gible's home. Pureblood Gible were rare. More often, Gible found in the wild had a Flygon or Aggron as a father.

It only occurred to both of us after a few minutes to just ask Gible if her father was a Garchomp. Unfortunately, she shook her head. Ben sighed. But it could be useful, so the blood would still be going out.

Gible's face had been hilarious when Ben had mentioned he'd need a urine and fecal sample. She was very confused, followed by mostly disgusted, once the Nurse had explained it. It took a good hour of cajoling before she agreed. Ben gave her directions to the Pokémon toilets and showed her what signs to look for, along with the specific cubicle that would collect the samples.

Pokemon Toilets.

That took a moment to process.

I knew that most Pokémon were at least as smart as a 5-year-old. Which, admittedly, is not a high bar. I'd known people who taught 5-year-olds. The bar wasn't on the ground. It was in hell.

The real hurdle came when Ben finished his test and declared, with a smile on his face. The final thing that Gible would need to do was get in a pokeball to be healed. It wouldn't be done in one session. But an overnight would make her feel much better.

No amount of cajoling was getting her into that ball.

Not from Ben.

Not from Mary.

I tried, she thought about it for a moment.

Gible still refused in the end.

Unlike the other two, I didn't a growled threat. So apparently, I was still the favourite.

Ben had to go wheel in a small pod like device with a clear plastic-like roof. Apparently, it was for Pokémon without pokeballs. It was far less effective. Which is why he'd been so reluctant to use it. But it was very clear to us all that the first person to try and get Gible in a pokeball would most likely be the subject of her latest murder attempt.

It took another half hour to fully set up the machine. Apparently, it replicated, albeit at a lower level, the Healing Pulse move found in several species of Pokémon. It also had to be tuned to a lower setting due to Gible's malnutrition. Healing Pulse accelerated the already absurd, natural healing rate of Pokémon to truly ludicrous degrees.

But the Pokémon needed to have the natural reserves to assist in the healing. A Pokemon that didn't could be more hurt than healed by the process. There were more advanced machines and techniques that bypassed that. But they were limited to cities.

It would take a few sessions before Gible would be back to full strength. How many Ben wasn't sure. They needed to set it low enough that it didn't try to heal Gible more than she could handle at the moment. There was an inbuilt sensor that should stop that. But better safe than sorry.

"Need to check tomorrow to be sure, but I think it'll be about a week before she can handle full power." Ben rubbed his eyes as he finished plugging the machine in.

"Got that?" I asked, Gible looked up at me and nodded. I took a look at the clock it was already seven forty pm. By the time I had a shower, I could still get seven hours' sleep before I'd need to wake up and get ready for work.

"Alright." I lifted Gible up as I stood and almost fell over. A mixture of pain, pins and needles, ran up and down through my legs. I growled out several words under my breath that would have had my Gran beating me with a wooden spoon if she'd ever heard them come out of my mouth.

Gible wiggled from my arms and fell into the padded inside of the machine as the plastic dome lowered. I went to walk out the door and heard a growl from behind me.

"Gible!" I looked back, and the land shark stared into my soul.

"Yes?" I tried keeping the annoyance from my voice. I really needed sleep before my next shift. She pointed at the ground before her enclosure.

"Gible."

"I can't stay. I need to go to sleep."

"Gible." She pointed to the ground again.

"I am not sleeping on the floor. I'm going to sleep in the nice cosy bed down the hall." There was a bit of a lie there. The beds were neither nice nor cosy. They were single metal frame cots with a roll out mattress and a pillow that I was fairly certain hadn't been replaced in twenty years. They were meant for Pokémon Rangers and Trainers when they passed through for a few days. But compared to camping out every night, they were great.

"Gib. Gible!" Her whole body shook side to side.

"She really doesn't want you to go." Thanks, Ben. I hadn't quite worked that part out. I ignored Gible as she pointed at the floor again.

"Well, she doesn't trust me and barely trusts Mary. Never mind what will happen when Mindy gets in." Gible nodded. It was great that Pokémon could communicate. But damn it, this was giving me a headache.

"What are you going to do if I go and sleep down the hall?" Gible stared me dead in the eyes and reached down, miming pulling the plastic cover off the machine.

"So come find me then?" I rubbed my forehead. She nodded. I felt a headache coming on in addition to all the muscle pain.

"Ben, how bad if she doesn't go in the pod?"

"Bad. But if we could get her to sit in there tomorrow for most of the day not terrible."

"I have to go to work tomorrow."

"Ah shit." Ben looked at Gible and pointed to me.

"You don't trust me or anyone else. So where he goes, you go right?" She scrunched up her face, thinking, then nodded.

"Gible."

"Wait. Are you going to try to follow me to work?" She clearly didn't understand what work was but did understand I'd be leaving the building and nodded.

"Not good. That could put her in actual danger again." Thanks, Ben.

"Would you stay if I spent the night in here?" I pointed at the ground. Gible shook her head. I muttered a curse.

"If she's going to follow you, she can't afford to miss healing tonight." He was right, not that it made it less annoying.

"You know the people who had you are probably looking right? If you come with me, they could find you." She looked at me for a moment, then shook her head. Pointed at me, at the door, and mimed walking.

The stress headache made a spirited attempt to jump to stress migraine.

"Nash," I looked to Ben. "The only way we're going to be able to get her to stay here is to confine her, and I don't think any of us will like how that ends."

I looked back to Gible, her eyes were half lidded, jaws opened to reveal a small purple-blue glow. I let out a hiss and ran my hands over my face, weighing up my options.

They all sucked.

It wasn't that I didn't understand Gible. I even felt a bit of kinship with her. She didn't know anyone here and very clearly hadn't been around humans much, if at all. Outside of Ben and me, most likely every human she had met had been part of that smuggling ring I was sure existed. Trust would be in very short supply. Likely for a very long time.

"Mind opening that?" He raised an eyebrow and moved over to the device.

"You are going to help me move a bed in here." I pointed to Gible and flicked my thumb over my shoulder. "Then tomorrow when I go to work, you can come with me."

She gave me a smug look.

"If and only if you agree to get in a pokeball." She let out a low rumbling growl. My fingers curled into fists. Her attitude scraped my last nerve.

"No. None of that." I growled. Gible seemed stunned.

"You are in danger." My voice grew louder with each word.

"Whoever took you is likely still looking. I will not paint a target on both of us by wandering around with you out where everyone can see." I wasn't quite yelling, but it was close.

"You have my word, you will only be in it to and from my work. But unless you want to be taken again, walking around outside is a stupid choice. So get in the ball. I'll take you to work, you can wander around there or get out and take your fucking chances outside!" I was baring my teeth in a snarl. I realised that I'd started shouting at some point. Gible looked at me with wide eyes, hell, even Ben looked mildly freaked out. I took a deep breath and forced the anger down.

"Look," I ground the word out between gritted teeth.

"We have to be smart about this. Free roam of the Pokémon Centre and my work. But the ball in between those two locations. Final offer, take it or leave it." Gible looked at me, weighing her options, and nodded looking bitter.

It didn't take too long to get the cot moved and set up for bed. It also gave me just enough time to start calming down. I felt bad about how I'd said things. Not message behind it. Not being able to admit that when I was younger had been a poison.

"Gible," I said her name lowly. The room was dark except for the few machines softly glowing.

"Gib." Her voice was more of a growl than anything else.

"I'm sorry. I should never have said you should get out. I'm worried about you and about me. I don't want either of us to be hurt. I don't think wanting you to be in the ball outside is wrong. It's the best choice, but I shouldn't have said get out. I'm sorry."

"Gib." She said after a moment, tapping on the plastic covering of the machine, I got out of bed and released the catch like Ben had showed me. She looked up at me, eyes wide, fangs not bared, and waved a hand down. I leaned in. Small, rough hands grabbed both sides of my head, and she gently placed the top of her head against mine.

"Gible." Her voice was low. She let me go and lay down, ready to sleep.

Well, I wasn't sure if that was an 'I forgive you' or an 'I'm sorry for being stubborn too'. Either way, I'd take it. I re-locked the cover, the machine let out a soft hum. I lay down my eyes heavy and legs hurting.

"Goodnight Gible," I said softly.

I was out before I heard if she answered.

The last three days had been good.

Gible was still surly about the whole pokeball. But she wasn't pitching a fit. Nor had she tried ripping me to pieces. I'd also managed to get a bit more information on her parentage.

The first time I'd taken her down to the yard, she'd stared at the Aggron and Aron, then began pointing and shouting. The little jumps she'd done up and down were adorable. It took twenty minutes for me to get what she was saying.

Her father had been an Aggron.

It didn't exactly change much.

Ben was still going to need that DNA test to fill out all his forms. Maybe it would come in handy at some point. It did mean the chances of narrowing down Gible's original home had pretty much gone to zero. That had not been a pleasant situation to be a part of. I had no idea it was possible for a shark to look depressed, but I was learning new things every day.

She had required many belly rubs and a food offering before she'd gotten into the healing machine that night. Then again, learning you couldn't go home did things to you. I would know. I ended up buying her some food. It was the first, hopefully last, time I would be buying ground Swinub. Still, Gible enjoyed it; that had to be worth something.

"Son of a..." The door stayed stubbornly attached to the car. I strained again, pulling on the ratchet.

"Come on." Gible looked up at me and began to waddle away from the small group of Aron she had been sitting with. I gave another heave and barely felt a twitch before I gave up, face red.

"Gible." She looked up at me. I huffed out a breath.

"Bloody thing won't move."I removed the ratchet and began to pace. I needed a new way to approach this.

Hopefully with a hammer.

"Gible." She stomped over to the door.

"Go right ahead." Could use a grinder to cut it? Gible jumped at the door, her tiny arm reared back. Well, at least I'd get a show out of this. Her claws were wrapped in a white-silver glow, and the arm swung down.

The doors' metal hinges were sheared cleanly in half, falling away from the body of the car with a crash. Gible turned around and pointed at the door. An air of smugness around her.

"Gib."

I proceeded to pick my jaw up off the floor with as much dignity as I could muster.

"Thank you." My voice cracked a little. Right reminder that Gible was, in fact, a veritable engine of destruction received. I would proceed to worry about my safety when I carried her around later.

"That was a good-looking Metal Claw, and I'd know." Willow's voice came from behind me. I turned, and she gave Gible a considering look. "Pretty good aim, too. If you'd caught the door, chances are you wouldn't even have to scrape the glass out."

"Gib." She walked up and pulled on my pants leg. Demanding head pats. I acquiesced immediately because she was adorable and could rip me in half. Metal Claw could sheer through, well, metal. I did not like the implication of what it could do to me.

"You up to helping more?" Willow gave Gible a small smile. She wobbled left and right for a moment, debating. Then gave a full-body nod.

"Gible."

"Excellent, then we can speed up a little. These little ones don't quite have the aim for precise work just yet." She flicked a finger towards the small herd of Aron around us. "And the big ones are a little too important to waste on this."

"Here's the plan, we're going to line up several cars, she's going to sheer the doors off. After that, we'll pop the windows and toss 'em along with everything else in the bins. The Aron can take care of the doors."

I wasn't going to argue against Willow. It usually took five to ten minutes to get a door off, depending on the car. Gible dropped that to a fraction of the time. It only took an hour to do what would have been a significant portion of my day's work.

We broke for an early lunch.

"That one of yours is a good one."

"She's not mine."

"Really, she listens well enough."

"I ain't got the time or, without this job, the money to be a trainer."

"There's plenty of work if you have the nose for it and Gible would help getting it. Wouldn't be easy or cheap. But it could be worth it." She cut me off as my mouth opened.

"Just think about it." Having said her piece, Willow bustled back inside her small office. I set up my camping stove. With the extra pay, I could actually vary my lunches. I'd run the numbers. With what I was making, I could afford to eat out once a week, provided it wasn't too pricey, and have a hot lunch every day.

Today was potato korma with all the trimmings. This one was prepackaged and a little bit pricier. A once-a-week treat. Every other lunch was some kind of packet noodles with greens. Gible quickly waddled up and sat down.

"No P-" I mentally backspaced for a second and course corrected. "Swinub."

She grumbled, and I grinned. Handing her a plastic bowl filled with Poke-pellets. Ben assured me would give Gible every nutrient she needed to make a full recovery. The shark clearly hated it, but ate it anyway. Because she knew I'd slip her some of the camper's curry I was heating up.

No Pokémon was strictly carnivorous. Gible's species got the vast majority of its nutrients from berries and plant matter. But they did need a significant amount of protein. Ben had made sure that it was taken care of by the Poke-pellets.

I'd done a little reading, in the wild, Gible would eat just about any Pokémon dumb enough to enter its territory. They usually preyed on Zubat and other Pokémon of similar size.

Pokémon eating Pokémon still weirded me out.

I took a bite of the potato korma. It was sweet, lacking the bite of some of the others I'd had, but good nonetheless. Gible looked at me jealously. I let out a theatrical sigh and scooped out some of the sauce, drizzling it over her Poke-pellets.

"Gible!" She began inhaling the food. It was kind of amazing in a disgusting way. Gible loved sweet things and hated dry flavours. Finding what she would and wouldn't eat had been a fair bit of trial and error, but we'd got it mostly ironed out.

I noticed it out of the corner of my eye. My head snapped right. Gible almost dropped her food, scrambling to follow my gaze. Whatever the Pokémon was, it was damned good at staying out of sight. Four days, including my first one, and I'd only ever caught glimpses.

Today was no different.

I barely caught its tail whipping out of sight around a corner.

So far, I knew four things, five depending on how you counted. It was about a foot tall, roughly the same long. Small enough to fit in spaces that the Aron couldn't. It was thin, concerningly thin based on the few glimpses I'd gotten. It was brown or maybe orange and possibly furred.

Between what Willow had seen and myself we'd narrowed it down to a list of twenty nine different Pokémon. Which granted was a whole lot better than one thousand plus, but it was still a needle in a haystack situation. The old woman had a soft spot for strays, it seemed. She'd gone out and brought a bowl for whatever it was; it ate rarely and only spicy food.

Willow thought it probably had a bad experience with people, and that's why it hid.

It was as good a theory as any.

Gible had tried to coax whatever it was out a few times. Her attempts had been met with silence. She'd been a little surly about it. I stood and grabbed the wooden bowl, pulling my pack open and plucked out the Cheri Berry I'd snagged at the market. I didn't bother to cut it; I just marched around to the back of the office. Giving the Grimer, Trubish, and Mr. and Mrs. Aggron a wave as I passed.

None of them liked to be ignored.

Gible waddled after me. Like the world's most adorable "self-defence" weapon. I placed the bowl in the shade where whatever it was had dozens of ways to approach and an equal number to escape. I grunted at Gible, who gave me an annoyed look but stepped forward and began speaking for a solid minute.

No answer.

I hoped that whatever Gible was saying to try to get whatever it was to come out was nice. And not the Pokémon equivalent of 'come look at this moron.' While I stood there like a rube.

"Back to work?"

"Gible."

There was something about taking a car apart and seeing it consumed that was fascinating. I was sure that it would grow stale eventually, though. Since Gible couldn't do more than getting the doors off, she went and alternately played with or bossed around the Aron.

I'd asked one of the Aggron about it. I'd gotten the Pokémon equivalent of 'kids will be kids'. They didn't seem worried. I imagined that may change if anyone got hurt. For now, it was all okay.

"Hey, Boss, mind if I ask a question?"

"You already did, but shoot."

"A salvage yard like this make a lot, or what?" She mulled over the reaction for a moment.

"More than you'd think. But less than a lot of people hope. It's been enough for me to own my own home and a couple of investment properties out in Humilau City and Rosharn City." I tried not to feel jealous that I'd been homeless for months while Willow had three homes.

It didn't work.

"It paid for my wedding. Let me put three kids through college without them needing to take out loans. But honestly, it probably dies with me." She must have caught my look.

"They've all got their own careers. My oldest is a manager in IT, the middle one owns her own accounting firm, and the youngest is a corporate lawyer. They've all done well for themselves, but they've made it clear they don't want to run the business. Don't blame em' its not for everyone. Assuming they outlive me, all the Pokémon will be taken care of, but Park Recycling is on life support, and while I like you. I don't see myself handing the reins over, no offence."

"None taken." I waved my hands in surrender. I'd admit that for a split second I'd thought about it. But that was all it was, an idle thought.

"Alright, let's get back to work." She turned away, and I did as I was told. Gible, and some of the Aron, for that matter, walked over every now and then for head pats and belly rubs. Willow saw far more of the Aron than I did in that regard. Gible never went over to Willow who always needed to be the one to initiate their interactions. Otherwise Gible seemed perfectly content with just me.

It was almost two hours later, when Mrs. Aggron dropped another car in front of me, that I saw it. Uncovered by the removal and leaning against another car. It looked like a pile of dog shit.

But I saw true inner beauty here.

The front panel near the lights, along with the lights themselves, had been torn away. The exhaust and seat were missing. I had no idea what the internals looked like, but I would bet they weren't great, and the front wheel was dented so badly it was more an oval than a circle.

The half-wrecked bike was a wonder.

I ran the numbers in my head. I'd looked into getting a second-hand bike when I first started wandering. Unfortunately, while using a push bike was possible, I really didn't trust myself with the heavy goods on my back.

A brand new motorcycle was sitting pretty at about seven hundred and twenty six thousand pokedollars. That was the introductory model. Let alone once all the extras were added on top. No bank was willing to give me a loan on unemployment.

But this?

I could work with this.

"Hey, Boss?"

"What!?"

"How much for the bike?" I flicked a thumb over my shoulder as Willow turned around.

"You want it? Let me take a look." She strode over and gave it a glance. "That's an old Tokai T0-2. I'll need to have a better look, but I think it's probably about twenty years old. You sure you want this thing? I'm pretty sure the motor will be shot, along with whatever else is wrong with it. The only thing worth saving here is the chassis. I mean, you could probably get a working one for about two hundred thousand."

"I don't have two hundred thousand." She looked me up and down.

"Alright, what's your plan?"

"Grab a mechanic, see the damage, hopefully fix it." Willow nodded slowly.

"Okay, here's what we're gonna do. The only mechanic in town is Bob Grumley. I'll give you his address. It may not surprise you that we do a fair bit of business. It'll probably cost you about fourteen hundred for him to look over it, maybe a bit less since it's so banged up." I mentally winced at the cost.

"If the motor is fine, and I don't think it is, you can take the bike off my hands for forty thousand. If it's shot to hell, you can have it for twelve thousand. Sound fair to you?"

I felt my mouth dry out a little. That was a good deal for the most part, depending on the prices of parts.

"Yeah, yeah," I struggled not to choke out the words.

"Yeah, Boss, that sounds great." I gave her the biggest smile I had, and she snorted.

"By the way, if Bob tells you it's too fucked to fix, listen to him. He can be a son of bitch. But he'll treat you honest, and get a rough price out of him for fixing the whole thing. No point buying it then needing to sell it back to me again."

"Right, Boss, thanks." She slapped me on the back.

"It's alright, now I think we've chin-wagged enough for one day, don't you? Let's get back to work."

"Got it, Boss!" I turned to Gible, and after a confused second, she gave me a high five. Then I gave her a quick belly rub. Things were finally starting to look up!

The rest of the day passed quickly. I disassembled a few more cars and helped one of the Aron out of a hole it had fallen into face-first. Given Gible's not-so-subtle pointing laughter, I had a guess about where that hole had come from.

Dad Aggron, Dad-Gron? Sighed and rolled his eyes at the sight before giving Gible a little flick on the back of her fin. For him, it was probably unbelievably light. It's still knocked her over. He gave a laugh like rocks grinding and stomped off. Gible looked affronted but got over it quickly enough.

Every now and then, I'd see a blur of movement or notice a pair of eyes looking at me, but they'd disappear almost as fast as they appeared. By the end of the day, I had another thing to add to the mysterious Pokémon fact list.

Violet eyes.

Didn't help in nailing down what it was. But more information was always welcome. I checked the back. The Cheri berry was gone. I grabbed the second Cheri berry from my backpack and threw it into the bowl. Then, to make sure Gible wouldn't get snippy, I handed her the Pecha berry I'd grabbed when I went shopping.

"Gib." She said, taking it with as much dignity as she could muster. Not a lot, considering she was drooling.

"Alright, girl, let's get that bike out of here."

"Gible!" She jumped up and down and began marching towards the junk yard doors.

"Eh hem." I pretended to cough and held up the pokeball on loan from the center. Gible stopped and turned almost mechanically. She may not have hated the ball, but she definitely preferred being out over in.

"Gib Gible."

"No."

"Gible?" I gave her a flat look. She slumped but didn't try to move when the red line from the ball hit her dead center. Pokeballs apparently artificially recreated the Minimize move some Pokémon could learn. Siphoning off the Pokémon's own energy to passively keep the effect going. The energy drain was so insignificant as to be unnoticeable to the Pokémon.
This was a society that had managed to get, small-scale admittedly, teleportation off the ground. By managing to recreate the ability found in Pokémon. More than half of what their tech did was far and away over my head.

But Mary, the Audino, had assured me it was very comfortable inside. Plus, they could break out, almost, any time they felt like it. Pokeballs were hardy things, but any Pokémon that wanted out would be getting out. Unless they were kept in a severely weakened state, like Gible had been, and the pokeball's Lock Mode was engaged.

Humans couldn't be caught in pokeballs, our energy reserves were too low. I assumed it to be the scientific term for Aura. The ball couldn't minimize us. I'd looked around for a bit about Aura. Not a lot online outside of some hotly debated records of Aura Guardians. Some trainers seemed to use the term since it was easier to say than Inner Energy.

No records of anyone firing off Kamehameha Waves or forming shields out of thin air.

So there went my Dragon Ball fantasies.

"Headin' out?"

"Yeah, Boss, you want me to give you a call from the mechanics?"

"Nah, tell me when you're in tomorrow, or if Bob wants to keep it a couple of days, let me know when you know."

"Thanks, Boss." I put as much warmth as I could into the words. Willow let out a small huff and smiled.

"No problem, now get going. I'll see you Monday."

"See you Monday." The walk back to the Pokémon Center was slow. My legs were getting better. But they weren't there just yet. The back streets I took were mostly deserted. Like always. It did give me a chance to enjoy the road as much as I could without interruption.

Walking into the center's air conditioning was wonderful, I'd sit for half an hour or so before I walked to the mechanics.

"Afternoon, Ben."

"Noon Nash!" The nurse said with a wave. Like most days, the center was empty. "Good day at work?"

"Really good, actually. Found what Willow thinks is an old Tokai. I'm taking it to the mechanic to see if it can be repaired."

"Awesome. Don't get me wrong, I like hiking, but I'd say you've probably had enough after all this time."

"Yeah, I used to like hiking. Don't think I do anymore."

"Not surprised." I passed by him.

"By the way," He stood and followed. "You're going to be around tomorrow, right?"

"Should be, why?"

"Okay, good. The Rangers are sending someone around to interview Gible." I felt my eyebrows raise.

"Interview her? Like they think she knows who took her and can help track them down?"

"Probably not. They'd need a Psychic to parse that out, and I don't think they'd risk it."

"Alright, why then?"

"Remember how I said Gible could be adopted out?" My gut clenched.

"Yeah." I did my level best to keep my voice steady.

"Well, Dragon Types are notorious for being picky and easy to anger." Considering the first thing that Gible had done upon waking up was make an attempt at a double homicide, I could see that.

"So, before we can start looking into that option. The Ranger Corps wants to do an interview. It should be conducted by a Senior Ranger. Probably a Dragon Type Specialist or a Psychic Type Specialist."

"How do you think the interviews will go?"

"Personal opinion or professional?"

"Why not both?"

"Professional. The Ranger will say that she shouldn't be adopted out. Whatever trauma she's got could be dangerous. Which is a fair assumption. Someone pushes her buttons the wrong way, there could be a maiming or a corpse. They'll probably recommend she be re-homed into an environment with an existing Gible population."

"Okay, that makes sense. What's your personal?"

"I think they'd be willing to leave her with you." My mouth dried up a bit. The idea was tempting; hell, it was my finances alone that were preventing me from jumping on the idea. I could fix up the bike and travel at a decent speed, then I could leave areas that lacked work and get to another one without worrying about stretching my food.

"You're the only human she's met that she seems to like." Ben continued.

"Don't get me wrong, she's improved a lot over the last few days. She'll stay in rooms without you in them. But she tolerates humans. She doesn't like them. I don't think Gible will be happy around people for a long time. If ever. Whoever they send will take into account what she wants. So if Gible wants to go with you. They'd probably be willing to allow it."

"I see."

"Just something to think about. Even if the Rangers do want to re-home Gible, it'll probably take a few weeks. Maybe even a couple of months to get the paperwork sorted. You got time. I've gotta do the rest of this paperwork, rest up, Nash."

"Yeah." He clapped me on the back, and I sat on the cot Gible had helped wrangle into the room. I hit the button on her ball, and it snapped open. She looked around the room sharply for a moment, then realised where we were and began to calm down. Yeah, still wound tight. Not surprising at all.

"Gib?" She looked up at me. I shrugged and pointed at my legs.

"Wanted a rest before I went to the Mechanics."

"Gible."

"You wanna stay here or come with me to get the bike looked at?" She didn't even hesitate, waddling over and gripping onto my shirt with a claw.

"Gib."

"Yeah, that seems about right." I gave her a belly rub and sighed.

Two hours later, I finally managed to leave the Pokémon Center. I'd love to blame Gible for that, but really, my legs ached. The land shark was inside her ball for the trip. Minimising visibility was still a concern. It took me a little over an hour to get to Gumley's Mechanics.

An old, somewhat rough-looking Stoutland greeted me as I turned into the shop. The sign overhead looked like its best years were long behind it. The Pokemon looked me up and down, took a quick interest in the bike, and gave a huff before lying back down.

"You, Willow's boy?" The voice was rough but upbeat. The man it came from had salt and pepper hair, wearing overalls.

"We're not related, but she sent me your way."

"Close enough. Names Robert, but you can call me Bob. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Bob. Names Nigel, but you can call me Nash." He chuckled and walked forward, taking a look at the bike.

"It's beat to hell, ain't it. You sure you couldn't just pick up a second-hand one?"

"Too expensive."

"Fixing this one ain't gonna be that much cheaper."

"Maybe, but I don't have two hundred thousand or thereabout on hand. I can chip away at this."

"Fair. I'll have a look over it and get you a price. Assuming the only thing worth saving here is the chassis. If you're willing to pick up second-hand parts, I'd ballpark fixing it between one hundred twenty and one eighty."

"Fair bit of wiggle room."

"Big dependence on parts and what you can get new vs second hand. If you were to get all the replacements brand new, I'd tell you just to save the two hundred thousand or so. But if we can find second-hand parts, you'll come out a lot better."

"I just need the thing to work, not look pretty."

"Good. Cause it's looking pretty days? They're long gone. How long you expecting it to last once it's repaired?"

"As long as it can."

"That's not an answer."

"Best I can give." He nodded.

"Just looking at it, I'd say you'd get another three to five years out of the fame before you're gonna have to start making some more serious repairs. You still okay with goin' forward with this?"

"Yeah." Not like I had a lot of options, and three years from now I hoped to be in a more stable position.

"Well, I've told you all I can without getting a good look at the old girl. Bring her inside, and I'll take a gander. I've got a bit of a backlog, hopefully I can get you some numbers soon. But should be Tuesday next week at absolute latest." I walked the bike into the shop. A Cinncino used its tail to sweep up parts of the floor, while a Magnaton floated above.

"That's Peter and Magnaton. He didn't want a nickname. There's a Rotom named Yem around too, but he's a little wary around strangers, so I doubt you'll meet him, and you've already met Brutus." He flicked a thumb over his shoulder towards the Stoutland.

"Nice to meet you." I waved to the Pokémon.

"We gonna meet yours?" I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little uncomfortable letting Gible out. But Willow had already seen her, and if I was going to start suspecting everyone, I'd be living a very paranoid, very sad life.

Well, more so than I was already. Being homeless wasn't exactly a party. I rolled Gible's ball off my fingers, and she snapped back to full size in a flash, twisting around, teeth bared. Calming when she saw me.

"Little vicious, eh?"

"It's alright, Gible." She waddled backward until she stood next to me. Eyes not leaving any of the Pokémon. Not that I was surprised, it took almost a full day before she relaxed around Willow, and that was with the Aggron vouching for her.

"Sorry about that. She's got a bit of a hair trigger."

"It's alright. But still a Gible? Not something you see every day."

"I'd appreciate it if you kept it to yourself."

"Course. Ain't no one's business but yours. I just like seeing the Pokemon of the people I deal with tells me a lot about them, and sometimes I get to see ones I haven't before." I didn't ask what Gible's actions and demeanour said about me.

He didn't offer any insight.

"Anyway." He said, brushing imaginary dust off his hands. "I'm happy to keep the bike here until it's fixed save you running back and forth." He pulled out a piece of paper. "Write down your number and email, looking at the old girl, I'll charge ya a grand to look her over." I wrote down what he asked, substituting my own phone number for the Geddes Pokémon Center. They'd hand on a message.

I think.

"You need the payment up front?" It wasn't a lot of money, but it was still gonna hurt. Bob shook his head.

"Nah, I don't like being paid for a job I ain't done yet. May need a percentage payment on parts as you go rebuildin' but I'll only invoice you when a jobs finished, not before I start." Couldn't be fairer than that.

"Thanks, Bob, nice meeting you, mate."

"Was nice meeting you, too, Nash."

Finally, things were really starting to look up.

---

Hi QQ, the current posting schedule looks like it will be 3 days a week. I can confirm that one day will be Friday. The others are somewhat flexible until this story catches up to the Spacebattles release.

Hope you're all having a great day.

If you're interested, I also have another story - No Strings On Me (Nikke x Gundam)
It's currently at the same chapter count as Spacebattles and releases bi-weekly.

"Harvey, I know you don't want to talk about this."

"Yeah, Jess, you're right, I don't."

"You can't push the rest of us out. We're in the same boat you are if all this goes tits up."

"Fuck. You think I don't know that!?"

"Then tell me what the next step is." I sighed. This had all gone so wrong. When the recession started, the company hadn't laid anyone off. We got less hours. It had started annoying, but we could still get by. Cut back on luxuries, maybe withdraw a kid from extra curriculars. Cook all your own food, no eating out.

It wasn't enough.

Fifty Hours a week turned into forty-five. Then Forty, you had to tighten the belt, but it was doable. Then they started firing people. Just a few. The most junior workers. The ones who had discipline problems logged. Hours went down further. Thirty-five. Then twenty-eight, finally twenty-two.

Everyone knew the company was bleeding money.

More than half of my friends were talking about selling their houses and downsizing. Which wouldn't be too bad if everyone else hadn't had the same idea. Smaller houses were worth a premium, and rentals were out of control.

What were they supposed to do, go ahead and become homeless?

I'd been stopped leaving a driver's meeting when they cut our hours down to thirty-five. The rat was smarmy. I knew off the bat he wasn't a good person. Freelance work, he said. Just slipped into existing shipments. No questions asked.

Smuggling.

I declined, at first.

Then came the late bills and later mortgage payments.

Jen was still optimistic. Thought wecould still talk the bank around.

I didn't feel the same way.

I made my choice.

I called the rat.

He spoke to me like an old friend. Made skin crawl. The first job was easy and paid half upfront. Stop off at a truck stop, go in, have lunch, and leave the doors to the container unlocked.

I did what I was asked.

It wasn't smart.

Then, when I got just outside of Nimbassa city. I pulled into another truck stop. Container left unlocked. When I got back, the container was locked again. I drove the load to its destination. Took a return trip to Icirrus city, got paid for my twenty two hours, and went to speak to Rat-Face.

He handed me an envelope with other half of my seventy-five thousand in it. More than the company paid me. Enough to get the bank off my back. Two months later, Rat-Face came to me again. Asked for another shipment.

It was easier to say yes the second time.

I had no idea what I was transporting. I didn't want to know. It paid well and kept my family off the streets. That was more than enough.

I kept hearing about friends who were doing it tough, who needed help.

Jess.

Kobie.

Roger.

They were good drivers. They could keep their mouths shut. So I went to Rat-Face and asked about expanding what we were doing. He thought about it for awhile then agreed.

Six months.

Six months without incident.

Then Roger hits a bit of black ice, and our package goes missing. The next morning, I get a call at five in the morning. Rat-Face telling me I have a meeting at twelve and not to be late.

What was I gonna do? Call the cops and say 'hey I've been part of a smuggling ring to avoid losing my house. Could you help me out of this jam and pay my mortgage?' They may not try me if I flipped and had some good info. But I'd still lose the house.

I went to meet rat face.

He walked me into the back office of a small accounting firm. The man behind the desk had a lazy smile and grey hair. Rat-Face introduced him as Mr. Barristan. The man whose cargo Roger had 'misplaced'.

Part of me thought I was going to leave that room in pieces.

Fortunately for me, we'd done good work up until now, and the black ice was most likely an accident. It didn't change the fact that due to Roger's mistake, they were out one point two million and wanted it back.

Mr. Barristan didn't make threats.

He didn't need to.

Roger signed on to move cargo more often, larger amounts. His pay was garnished by half. The rest of us chipped in where we could. Giving half our promised pay to help Roger out. Three months later, his debt was cleared, and I spoke to Mr. Barristan again. He was pleased that no one had attempted to flip and sell them out to the cops.

It took all my nerve to keep a straight face.

Then he offered more money.

Roger had done well with his extra cargo, and we'd all done well keeping our mouths shut and banding together. He wanted to bring us all on to that next level. I wasn't sure, but when he offered to pay me double what I had been making each trip. I couldn't resist. A chance not just to keep my head above water but save for the future?

That was worth more than gold.

Getting Jess and Kobie onboard took some work.

But in the end, the siren call of cash got them, too.

Rat-Face got in contact with me for more than a normal job. This one needed to be expedited. So someone was going to have to drive a 'company car' instead of using a Semi. I wasn't sure at first. With the dates, I couldn't do it. Jess wasn't up for it. Roger couldn't.

Kobie was free and getting paid two million for an eight hour drive was a hell of a lot of reasons.

Halfway there, he called for help.

A Rhydon had hit his truck and torn into it like it owed it money. It was only after I told Rat-Face that I'd been informed that a Rhydon had been the 'package' Roger had lost.

Apparently, it held a grudge.

Must have recognised someones scent on the truck Kobie was driving.

"We're right fucked with this one, Jess."

"Can't be that much worse than Roger's." If only that were true.

"Kobie was being paid two million just to transport the damned thing."

"God in heaven."

"Yeah, Lord only knows how much that Gible was worth overall. I mean its rare, but it was female, they could have named their price." I had no idea how they'd make it all legal, but I didn't doubt that Mr. Barristan could.

"Okay, okay, what are our options?" Jess nibbled on her finger.

"Well, since Mr. Barristan hasn't had us killed, I've got a few." Her face pinched, I wished I was joking.

"Rat-Face wants us to get it back."

"How!?"

"Still working on that part. Way I see it, we either have to do that or...."

"Give up Kobie." Jess finished grimly.

"We need a plan."

"I got a plan." She looked at me disbelievingly. "I have part of a plan."

"That sounds about right."

"Look, a lot of Pokémon like that get put up for adoption. Rat-Face had some guys go around to the local centres. The Gible went to Geddes. We keep an eye on it, and when adoptions open, we just grab it." It wasn't a fancy plan, but it would work.

God, I needed this to work.

"Rat-Face's guys are keeping an eye on the Pokémon Centre. Once they see a Ranger head in, we'll know they're seeing about adoption or re-homing. We'll see if we can't adopt it, then we can either deliver it or whatever Rat Face needs to do to make this look good." Jess took it in for a second.

"Solid start. Couple of problems." I grunted. "First is that since Gible made it to a Pokémon Center, the Police are probably involved. So this is still hot. Second, what if they decide that re-homing is the only option?"

I took a deep breath and turned the options over in my head.

I didn't like what I landed on.

I knew Jess wouldn't either.

"In that case. We may need to do some breaking and entering." I tried to make it sound better than it really was.

"You want to break into a Pokémon Center!?" Her voice was shrill. I grit my teeth.

"What other options do we have, Jess!? You wanna blow out your savings, or sell your car, or your house to pay it off? Or do you just want to leave him to hang!?" That was unfair. There was another way out of this. I just hated it more than the other options. That Jess didn't bring it up meant she did too. We could all take on Kobie's debt and get even deeper into Barristan's pockets. Jess hesitated for a moment, and I watched the fight drain out of her.

"I know. I just....I don't like this." I slumped, the weight of the world stuck on my shoulders.

"Neither do I. But we got limited options here. Jess, if we don't work this out. I don't think we're ever getting out." I voiced my private fear. She looked scared. Good, she should be. I was.

My phone buzzed.

Incoming call 'Rat-Face'.

"Hey Jimmy, how's it hangin'?" I didn't call him Rat-Face to his face. Jimmy was a nobody just like me in the grand scheme of things. But he also had a few leg breakers on standby. Which helped engender good manners.

"Not bad, Harvey." His voice had somehow gotten even more weasely the longer I'd known him.

"Some of my boys just called. A Ranger was just spotted heading into Geddes. Three guesses what he's there for." Like I'd need three.

"My boys and girls will put on their dancing shoes over the next few days and start asking around about the cargo. But if they can't get it back alone..."

"We'll work something out."

"I really hope you do. I like you, Harvey." My skin crawled.

"If it comes down to it? Don't fuck this up. Talk soon." He hung up. I swallowed throat dry and looked at Jess.

"Ranger was spotted heading into Geddes."

"Alright." We were silent for a few moments.

"Harvey?"

"Yeah?"

"What if someone does adopt Gible. But it's not one of Jimmy's or us?" I sighed, my hand falling to the single Poké Ball I kept these days. I rubbed the ball, feeling a rush of static. It had been a long time since we'd battled. I looked at Jess, my mouth set in a grim line.

"Then we do. What we gotta do."

The Ranger appeared early. The sun had barely risen. I was only awake due to habit, and Gible was still asleep. I didn't often leave the room without her. She wasn't likely to have a panic attack if I wasn't there. But she would go charging around to find me. We'd needed to have a talk about boundaries regarding the bathroom early on.

Mindy, the night nurse on her last night shift of the week, walked him in. He was a little younger than me, or at least he looked that way. He wore the Ranger's red and black uniform with four pokeballs on his belt.

"Is it okay if I come in?" He kept his voice low.

"Give me a moment." I reached over and began to give Gible a belly rub. She woke slowly, eyes opening and giving a massive yawn as she toddled to her feet. Then she saw him and went still, eyes locking on and baring her fangs. A low rumbling growl came from deep in her chest. I flicked her fin, she spun on the spot and gave me what I could only call an affronted look.

"He's okay. You don't have to threaten everyone you meet, you know." Gible let out a whiny yap and pouted. The Ranger laughed a little, Gible spun, and he held his hands up very clearly in view.

"Well, she certainly likes you. A dragon who didn't would have probably done a lot more than just pout." I grimaced at the casual reminder of the damage Gible could do if motivated. Gible huffed, then preened. "Name's Randall, mind if I come in and have a seat?"

This time, the question was posed to both of us.

"Please," I pointed to the only extra chair in the room. The one Gible had destroyed still hadn't been replaced. Gible looked him up and down, then huffed and turned away.

"Gible." She muttered, Randall took it as permission and sat down.

"I'm Nash, and this is Gible, but you already knew that."

"I did, but it is nice to meet you both, even if my focus will be more on Gible, now then Gible," He addressed the dragon directly. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"Gib." She shook her body in denial.

"Okay. Humans," He flicked a finger between the two of us for emphasis.

"Like to put everything in little boxes. I'm here to see how you're doing and what box this situation needs to be put into. Do you understand so far?" Gible wobbled from side to side for a moment. Something I'd picked up on as her body language for 'sort of'.

"Alright, that's fine. I'm going to ask you some questions about what you want to happen going forward, and we'll see what we can do about getting it done." Gible nodded; she understood that much at least.

"In addition to that, we're going to do a bit of an assessment to see what you know how to do, so you'll get to hit a few things." Gible gave a very shark-like smile at that statement.

"Let's start with the easy part. Do you like Nash?"

"Gible." Her response was immediate; she turned, waddled over to me while I was still hunched next to the healing machine, and gently pressed her fin to my head. I gave her a one armed hug back before standing.

"Well, that's good. How do you feel about Benjamin Yamariton?" He held up a picture of Ben, the Pokémon Nurse.

"Gib." She shrugged.

"Hmm, okay, how about..." The questioning went on. Every now and then, Randall would pull out a notebook and either check something or jot down a note. Her reactions towards Pokémon were almost exclusively neutral. But she held some real animosity towards the Purugly and Ariados lines.
Then came the situational questions. What would happen if X happened? One of which included the scenario 'What if Nash was hurt by a Pokémon or Trainer?' While it did scare me a bit. I'll admit to being a little touched when Gible snarled, and the beam of fuck you that had almost injured Ben began glowing in her mouth. Randall moved on from that question fairly quickly.

It was lunchtime when we finally stopped.

"Alright, let's have a quick break for lunch, and then we can get to the next part." He was nice enough to order in from the local pub or whatever they called it in Unova. I ended up with the pumpkin risotto.

Gible demanded the hamburg steak, double portion.

Randall didn't comment on my reluctance to eat Pokémon. For which I was glad. He ended up grabbing a Buffolant burger.

Lunch was, all in all, a pretty tame affair. Gible almost went to sleep after savaging the giant hamburg steaks. Then Randall mentioned that she'd get to break stuff next, and like that, the land shark was up and ready to rock. We walked out to the empty fields around Geddes, halfway to Park Recycling.

"Alright, give me a minute," Randall said, a pokeball rolling off his hand almost lazily. The massive Aggron landed with a rumble and rolled its shoulders.

"Huh, you know I've seen a lot of Aggron recently."

"Most Rangers have an Aggron or a member of the line," Randall said offhandedly.

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. Don't get me wrong, Aggron can be territorial, but they're very caring for the environment. Even wild Aggron will actively attempt to restore nature in damaged areas. Re-adding topsoil, planting trees, the works. Makes it real easy for us to get along, right big guy!" He looked up and fist bumped the massive Pokemon who was grinning back.

"Anyway, we should set up a target for you, right, Gible?"

"Gib! Gible!" She jumped up and down an excited grin on her face.

"Aggron, Stone Edge if you would." The Pokémon stomped down. Gingerly for something of its size. The ground rumbled for a second, and a single spear of stone split the ground. It was at least five feet wide and ten high.

"Usually use Stone Edge to block off rivers or divert where needed until more permanent measures can be put in place. Pretty great at blocking off fires, too." Randall said conversationally, then turned his attention to Gible.

"Alright, start slow, okay?"

"Gible." She kicked the ground sourly but gave a full-body nod and walked over to the newly made stone punching bag.

"Alright, let's start with physical attacks, whatever you think is weakest, and go from there." It was actually a pretty short testing phase, all things considered. Gible started by throwing her whole body at the rock. Tackle, Bite her teeth glowed for a split second, I swear, and the well-known Metal Claw.

"Perfect," Randall called out. "Take a break, and we'll start on ranged attacks in a few minutes." He flicked his head at her subtly, and Aggron stomped over, starting a conversation.

"So why do you need to know what Gible can do?" It had been eating at me.

"Safety mostly. Depending on what Gible knows how to do influences whether we can look towards adoption by a trainer or re-homing becomes the main aim. If she knows Dragon Rage, that's a little much for a beginner trainer, but if she really liked them, we could still make adoption work."

He gave me a significant look that I pretended not to notice.

"If Gible knows something like Draco-Meteor or Hyperbeam. That's not something we could trust in the hands of a new trainer, so adoption would be more limited, and we'd probably look more towards re-homing."

"Gible!" She called from next to Aggron, looking excited to start again. The massive Pokémon rolling their eyes and summoning another stone punching bag. The last one being broken by Metal Claw.

"Alright, start when you're ready!" Randall called out. Gible's ranged attacks were just as numerous. She started by kicking sand at the rough height of a human's eyes, Sand Attack. Then stomped down her foot glowing, glowing brown-white energy tore up around the stone like a localised tornado. My mind blanked on that one.

"Sand Tomb," Randall muttered out of the side of his mouth. Gible breathed in the purple-blue glow I'd become somewhat familiar with, rolled within, and she fired it towards the stone, tearing off the top half in an instant.

"Dragon Rage. Nothing too bad. Her control of Sand Tomb looks pretty good for her age. She'll probably work out Bulldoze in a few months or so, faster if she really works at it." Randall spoke lowly, then looked up at Gible, who was staring back with a blank expression, and smiled.

"Alright. Thanks for that." He pulled a Pecha Berry out of his backpack and threw it towards Gible, who chomped it right out of the air. I swear she may be 80% mouth, but she was 120% stomach.


"Great work!" Aggron rolled his eyes and sighed. Randall smiled and pulled out another Berry. One I didn't recognise. "Don't think I forgot about you, big guy. I appreciate the help." He lobbed the Berry and, with an action that almost perfectly mirrored Gible, the massive Pokémon chomped down on the treat. Randall returned Aggron, and I went to return Gible before he stopped me.

"Don't worry about it. If anyone tries anything, I'll be right here." He assured me. "She hasn't gotten much time outside of Mrs. Park's place, and the Pokémon Center has she?"

"No, not really." I agreed as we started to walk back. "I was afraid that if whoever took her saw her, they might try again."

He weighed the statement.

"Doubt it. Most people would cut their losses. It's one thing to illegally transport a Pokémon; that's a decent fine and anywhere from two to five years. Species and circumstances depending." His eyes went distant for a second.

"Attacking someone to get that Pokémon back. In addition to the other charges? They'd be lucky to see outside of their cell in ten years. Not to mention willing to bring additional scrutiny down on whatever operation they're part of. Chances are, they've given up getting Gible back as bad business."

The 'unless they're very stupid' went unsaid but implied.

I'll admit that did make me feel a bit better about the whole thing. I felt a weight I didn't know had been on my chest leave. We talked about lighter topics after that. Randall was actually from Geddes. His first Pokémon was an Aron from Willow. Apparently, she gave out Aron to a lot of local trainers. So long as they were willing to work at the Recycling Plant for about a year, so she could get a feel for them.

"Alrighty, Gible," Randall turned down to the land shark as we entered the Pokémon Center. "You need to go get a check-up from Ben and make sure that using none of those moves hurt you."

"Gib." She turned, looked at him with narrowed eyes, and set herself in defiance. She wasn't growling, but it was a near thing.

"Little help?" Randall asked. I sighed and looked at her before pointing towards Ben.

"Go."

"Gible!"

"No. You know Ben. You'll be fine. I'll be right out here, okay?" She sighed and kicked the ground in defeat.

"Gib." She said dramatically and did a slumping waddle towards Ben, who smiled and took her to the assessment room. Ben was the only nurse she knew well enough to be comfortable being alone with.

"Okay." Randall turned to me, his face serious. "Sit down, we need to talk about what happens next." My stomach dropped a little as I sat opposite him in one of the Centre's overly puffy chairs.

"We've got about half an hour before Ben finishes with her. Which is plenty of time. But I need you to know your options and her options."

"Okay." My voice was low.

"I'll tell you right now that adoption is off the table." I tried to hide the fact that it felt like I had just been stabbed. Randall held up a hand, and his face softened slightly.

"For most people." My heart started to tap dance.

"She clearly doesn't trust humans. Not surprising given what she's been through. Everything I've seen today tells me that Gible follows your lead when it comes to people. If you trust them, she'll tolerate them, and I do mean tolerate."

"But it will be a long, uphill battle for her to ever trust humans again. Which is not surprising given how you found her. Pokémon can break out of pokeballs if they want to, even the lock system won't keep one inside if its in good health. Which is why a lot of trafficked Pokémon are starved and sometimes beaten to prevent them from having the strength to do so. Do you understand everything I've said so far?"

"Yes." My voice was hoarse. That confirmed why Gible looked so malnourished when I found her. She'd filled out a bit in the last few days, but she was still underweight.

"Good. Now I said that adoption was off the table for most people. You are the only exception to that, and it's purely because of how Gible reacts around you."

"I..I..uh."

"I know this is a lot to take in, and have a solid think about it. Because whatever choice you make in the end, there are ups and downs to it. Gible's other option is to be re-homed. Unova doesn't have a native population of Gible, and to be frank, we don't want one."

"Their particular niche in the environment is already filled, and adding Gible into the ecosystem could cause a lot of unforeseen damage. Now, from the report I have, and the fact that I saw her use Metal Claw earlier, her father was an Aggron. Which means we probably won't be able to narrow down where she came from." Randall took in a deep breath.

"Meaning the Ranger Office will re-home her to an area with an existing Gible population. Of them, I'd say Alola or Lental are most likely, as they're nearest and both have a history of accepting Pokémon from Unova that need to be re-homed. They're very good at it. I want to stress that if you choose, for whatever reason, not to take Gible with you. She will be put in a place where she can thrive with others of her species and given the best chance to do so."

"I...I..Uh..I don't really have stable employment or address or the like. I'm basically homeless, current situation excepted, wouldn't that prevent me from you know?"

"Normally? Yes. But with the economy being what it is. It looks like a win to my department if we can redistribute the money meant to cover Gible's rehoming. Between that and my recommendation, you'd be in with a real chance."

"What about work?" I very deliberately didn't mention Willow.

"You have something lined up?"

"No." That was close enough to the truth.

"Okay, not the end of the world. Having Gible gives you access to a lot of jobs you otherwise wouldn't be able to do. Are you currently on Job Seeker?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. If what I remember about that is correct. They'd probably be willing to offer a Limited License."

"Limited License?" My voice was raspy. When did my throat get so dry?

"Yeah. It will allow you to be registered as Gible's Trainer pending formal review in six months. You'll need to prove in that time you can care for Gible's physical and emotional needs. Which means every Pokémon Center visit will be logged. If you can prove you're making a steady income and reduce or eliminate the Job Seeker payment, it'll be looked upon very favourably. Do all that, and you should be granted a full license at the end of six months."

"Alright."

"Look, I saw your file. I know you're a Faller." Nice of him not to mention it until now. I didn't even mean that sarcastically.

"You haven't done this before. Take some time. Really chew on this. Talk to Gible, see what she wants to do as well. She may like you, but want to be with her own kind." I ignored the fact his statement made me feel like I'd just been socked in the gut.

"Understood."

"Okay, I can see this is a lot to take in. Just a couple more things, I promise." I nodded, a little shakily.

"First costs. It'll set you back about seventy thousand for adoption paperwork. Thirty if you're rebuffed, but seventy total. This will include a pokeball. Now, seventy thousand isn't a lot of money under most circumstances. I assume you've been doing odd jobs where you can?" I opened my mouth to lie. Randall gave me a look. I nodded.

"Have you reported that?" I shook my head. "Okay, they would have set you up with a bank account. Do you have seventy thousand in it?"

"No. But I will next weekend." That was when the bi-weekly payment would come in. Putting me at a whopping total of seventy-three thousand. While I had a little cash on me, I'd barely managed to scrape together eighteen thousand poke-dollars in savings.

"Okay. I assume you probably pay for most things in cash rather than card?" I nodded, and Randall sighed.

"Good. Good. That means it won't be surprising if you pay the fee, they'll probably just assume you've got enough supplies to last you until the next pay cycle. Don't get me wrong, the IRS is merciless, but I don't see them hammering you about such a small amount. They've got much bigger problems right now."

"Well, that's nice to know." It really was, the last thing I needed was the damned taxation office up my arse in addition to everything else.

"Glad to be of help." Randall smiled, and I did my best to smile back.

"Okay, last thing. Today is Sunday, and I'm not going to put my report in until the end of tomorrow. Once that report is in, it'll take two weeks roughly for it to be reviewed and a re-homing okayed. You'll have two weeks to put in an adoption request if that's the way you and Gible decide to go. If you put in that request before the two weeks are up, you shouldn't have too many problems getting it through. If it's past two weeks, chances are it's going to be rejected. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, I do." I nodded, forcing my head back into working order.

"Alright, you got an email address, right?" He asked, pulling out a phone. I gave it to him. "Perfect, I'll send you the adoption PDF and my Ranger ID to quote, as well as where you need to send it. If you go down this path, they'll send you an invoice. Pay it as soon as you can, and the re-homing paperwork will be frozen while it's reviewed. This also means if you're bumped back for any reason, you'll have a chance to dispute it." I nodded, and Randall's face softened a little.

"If you or Gible decide not to go ahead, that's fine too. Just enjoy your time together. I've fostered a fair few Pokémon before they're re-homed. Make the best memories you can, and one day, if you see each other again. It's the best feeling in the world. I headed over to Alola about a year back after fostering a Rockruff for a few weeks about four years ago that was returned there. Little guy sniffed me out in about three days and refused to leave. We had a great time." Randall smiled at me.

"What happened when you came back home?" I smiled back, and the Ranger rubbed the back of his head.

"I'm probably not the best example to learn from." He admitted guilty and flicked a pokeball into the air. A flash of light and a furry four-legged wolf stood next to us. It cocked its head to the side, clearly confused.

"Lycanrock?" The wolf sounded confused, Randall reached out and scratched behind its ears.

"Just showing you off, buddy." The Pokemon preened under the attention, and our conversation turned to lighter topics until Gible got back. I bid Ranger Randall a good day as he left. Gible seemed to sense that something was amiss. She was practically glued to me for the rest of the day.

Monday and Tuesday were more of the same. I took cars apart. Caught a few more glimpses of whatever Pokémon was hanging around. I was sure it had brown fur, a white ruffle, and a busy tail.

I think I knew what it was.

The most interesting thing that happened was Bob emailing me on Monday night, some emergency work come up, and it would probably be Thursday or Friday when I heard from him. Most times, I may have been slightly annoyed by that. At the moment, however, I had enough on my mind; I was more than happy to shelve the Tokai.

I kept Gible close and finally worked up the courage to talk on Wednesday night.

She was still inside the healing machine; another day or two, and she would be back to full health, if still a little underweight. I kept the lid off and sat on the edge of the cot. Gible saw my face and sat down, eyes staring straight into mine.

"Okay, we've got two options." I held up two fingers and got a wobbly full-body nod in return. "Randall says you can go with to other Gible."

"Gib!?"

"It probably won't be your home Gible, but it would be with other Gible." She looked down to the side and closed her eyes before looking back.

"Gible." She slumped. I resisted the urge to reach out and hug her.

"Okay, option two, you stay here with me. I don't know if you'll ever see home again, but I'll be there at least." She closed her eyes. "Take your time, you've got a few days." I went to close the healing machine, she stood up and jumped onto my legs before I could. She could move when she wanted to.

"Gible." Guileless round eyes looked up into my own tired ones. She tottered forward, wrapping small arms around as much of me as she could. I rubbed her fin and smiled a little.

"Okay, if that's what you want."

END.

---

Hi all, still catching up with Spacebattles Releases. At a pace of three Chapters a week. This pace should keep up for the next 3-4 weeks. Unless my math is wrong. Which it well could be.

If you're interested in supporting the work I do Manfat Patreon exists.
This Is Fine - 3 Chapters Ahead of Public Release.
No Strings On Me (Nikke x Gundam) - 2 Chapters Ahead. Biweekly release.

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Two days since Gible made her choice and I knew I'd have to spend seventy thousand to keep her. Granted, it was split into two payments, which would mean I wasn't completely fucked. But it was still a lot of damage for me.

At least I still had four days, four and a half if you wanted to be technical, of free accommodation at the Pokémon Center courtesy of the Warren County Sheriffs Department. After that, I'd need to see about some low cost accommodation or go back to living out of a tent.

I really didn't want to be living out of a tent again. Not unless I absolutely had to. I stood up from the cot and popped the top on the machine Gible slept inside. She was mostly used to my schedule now and was awake, if aggressively yawning.

"Morn'n."

"Gible!" She leaned into my hand before jumping out of the machine and heading towards the small bowl in the corner. I fished out the poke-pellets Ben had given me and threw in one of my last Pecha berries to make it more palatable, getting a happy hop as Gible did her level best to eat it in world record timing.

Granted, she hated the pellets, but she was smart enough to get some Pecha with every bite, and that was enough for her.

At least for now.

My own granola was eaten with less enthusiasm. I'd put together a sandwich before we left for lunch, something simple. Next time, I was grabbing a berry of some kind for myself. Even if I only ate half of one with breakfast it had to do something to improve granola. My legs had improved a lot; the pain and stiffness was mostly gone. I could leave at four now and still make my five am start.

"Let's go," I said, rubbing Gible's fin as she placed her bowl down.

"Gib!" She waddled after me, almost bouncing.

"Morning, Nash." The night nurse on shift smiled when he waved. He was a tall guy, standing a little over six three, but still slight like a reed. Blond hair shaved close, 'because it's easier,' he told me. I believed him, too. Back home, I ignored the stab pain the memory brought with it; I shaved my hair off regularly for the same reason.

"Morning, Dustin."

"Off to work?"

"Checking the email first, then yeah."

"Bliss!"

"Good morning to you, Blissey." I nodded at the pink blob, who smiled back and bustled away. Looked like he had a lot of work today. Then again, maybe not. Blissey seemed to just enjoy moving. I sat at the communal computer and opened my email.

No, I did not want to save my password. No, I did not have a phone to use two-factor authentication. Please stop asking. Filtered out three spam messages; lord knew how they got my address. Even in this world, I wasn't safe from such ads as 'Male Enhancement', 'New Kitchen Miracle Gadget', and 'Sexy Singles In Your Area'.

Firstly, I was perfectly happy with my Johnson, thank you very much.

Secondly, you could do all that with a knife and half a day of practice, even if you were rather special.

Thirdly, and finally, I was the only single I knew in my area, and I was both not sexy and quite happy to remain single.

"Fucking advertisers, I swear," I muttered. Gible looked up, and I rubbed her belly on reflex. She decided whatever I'd said didn't matter that much, clearly. The first real email was from Bob the Mechanic.

Hi Nash,

Sorry about the late email. Looked over that Tokai you left me. Like I thought, ain't much left worth keeping past the chassis itself. I've included the invoice, pay it when you can. There's a PayLink, or you can do it in person; either way's good for me.

I've managed to source a second-hand motor for the thing. Ain't from Willow, and it'll need to be delivered, so you'll be waiting anywhere from a week to three on it. It's $55762, including delivery and installation. If you want me to pick it up, I'll need a 10% down payment, so lets round it down to $5000. When the works done, I'll invoice you for the remaining $50762.

You could get a cheaper one, but in terms of cost to durability, this is probably as good as you're going to get. If you want to go for something cheaper, let me know, and I'll keep an eye out. But I can't promise anything. Once the motors in and we get a battery bank sorted, it's all downhill from there in terms of cost. Those are the big upfronts.

Looking forward to hearing from you,

Bob Grumley
Grumley Auto-Repairs

It was a good thing Willow was paying me today, and my Job Seeker payment would be in by noon. Because I owed her and Bob some money. Plus, I wasn't going to pass up on that motor. I'd make sure I paid them both today. Didn't want to end up with a reputation for always owing people money. I was also about to be out an additional thirty grand. The next email was from the Department of Pokemon and Plant Protection.

To Mr. Nigel R. Johnstone,

Thank you for reaching out regarding Ranger Randall Hoffmann's report on the Gible currently in the care of the Geddes Pokemon Centre. We have received your Application of Care and are currently reviewing it.

There is a $30000 processing fee due by End of Business Friday week for your application to be confirmed. A payment link can be found in the attachments area of this email. Alternatively, you can print out the attached invoice and pay it at any Pokémon Center.

After confirmation of payment, a more thorough review will be undertaken, and you will likely be interviewed by local Law Enforcement to corroborate Ranger Hoffmann's assessment of your and Gible's disposition.
If your application is accepted, you will need to pay a further $40 000 licensing fee. This will pay for the creation of paperwork for the Gible in question, a Limited Trainer Licence valid for six months, and a pokeball.

Please note that a successful application is only a guarantee of a Limited Licence. You will be required to make monthly check-ins for six months. If at any point you are deemed to be a less-than-ideal guardian for Gible, this licence can be revoked.

A review panel will be undertaken at the six-month mark, incurring a cost of $60 000, at which point you are determined to be in good standing and positive development is being seen on the part of Gible. You will be issued a full Trainer Licence.

Please note that not all Applications of Care will be approved. Should you be found unfavourable to care for the Pokémon initially, or to continue to care for it. No fees paid to this department are recoverable or tax deductible.

We wish you an excellent day,

Helen Laffardy
Networking Associate
Unova Department of Pokemon and Plant Protection.

And of course, there would be another payment due at the end of all of this, but that was a problem six months down the line. I flagged the email; my payment wouldn't come in until noon. I'd pay it when I got back, take care of it early.

"You cost a lot, you know that?" Gible turned her snout, raising into the air.

"Gib."

"Yeah, yeah, let's go, princess."

"Gible." She said in a sing-song tone as we walked out of the Pokémon Center. I decided to take Ranger Randall at his word. Chances were, whoever had taken Gible had probably written her off as way too much trouble.

If they hadn't made a move on her yet, they probably weren't going to.

That's what I kept telling myself anyway.

I still kept a wary eye out.

Gible had been enjoying the walks. I think just being somewhere other than the Pokémon Center and Parks Recycling was something of a novelty at this point. The land shark was incredibly curious, stopping often to look into ditches as we left town. Hopping up and down near trees, even taking a look out into the fields as we headed out into the back roads towards work.

"Morning, Boss." I greeted, opening the front door, Gible waddling in behind me.

"Mornin' Nash." Willow was sitting on the steps to her small office, surrounded by Aron, who were enjoying being scratched and petted. "Ready to get to work."

"Ready to get paid." I agreed, placing my backpack under the patio and moving off towards the tools.

"I haven't forgotten. You've done last Saturday to this Friday, total of six days. That's seventy-five thousand I owe you for this week. Another three weeks till your first month is up, and you'll be earning eighty-two thousand a week for the next two months." That math added up to me.

"Lets get to work!" Nothing motivates like being reminded of money. Willow let out a harsh barking laugh.

"Lets!"

Disassembling cars had become almost meditative at this point. The yard still had a hell of a lot of them. But we were making a real dent. Which, on the one hand, was nice. Good to know the job was getting done. On the other hand, I doubted my contract would extend past three months at the rate we were going.

"Hey, Boss, heard back from Bob."

"Did ya now? Motor still work? Or dead like I thought it was?"

"Dead."

"Shame, but not unexpected." She didn't bring up the money I owed her. Which was nice. Then I dropped the real news I'd been waiting on.

"Think I know what's been hanging around." Willow stopped. We were about to break for lunch anyway.

"Really now?"

"Really, really."

"Stop being an ass and tell me!" She groused, smile never leaving her weathered face.

"An Eevee." I said, somewhat smug.

"You sure? They're not exactly common around here."

"It fits everything." And that I was sure about, with one other equally outlandish option.

"Well, that or a Rockruff." I was pretty sure it wasn't; I'd seen the ears on whatever was around here. Too long for a Rockruff. Plus, I'd gotten a good look at its tail when it disappeared yesterday. The cream coloured tip pinged something in my head that screamed Eevee.

"Rockruff would be more likely. Still closer than I've gotten to working it out." Willow said, rubbing her chin.

"Gonna need to lay out a different feed for it, no wonder it wasn't going for the usual stuff. Good work, Nash. Take your lunch, and we'll get back to it." She walked away to the office, giving me a little wave.

Lunch was a small affair; I'd had my hot meal on Wednesday, and now I needed to save more money. I'd ditched my hot lunches for the most part. So, a simple peanut butter and tea it was for me.

Gible got her hated poke-pellets and much beloved Petcha berry. I stood and walked out the back, pulling out the last of my berry stock a single Tamato berry. I was told it was decently spicy, which Eevee, or Rockruff, seemed to like.

I forced a finger through the flesh and let the aroma spread around before placing it into the bowl. If Pokémon were just animals, I'd slink away and hide to try and catch a proper look. But as I was constantly reminded, some Pokémon were as intelligent as the dumbest humans.

Most were a fair bit cleverer than that.

"Eevee the berry is yours. I just want a look to make sure you're okay!" I let my voice carry, I stood in the open, my arms spread wide, showing I had no pokeballs on me, and trying to get across I wasn't a threat. Gible walked around the corner and looked at me like I was the biggest dumbass she'd ever seen.

"Gible." Wow, that sounded really judgmental. I let out a huff and dropped my arms.

"It was worth a shot," I muttered back mulishly.

"Gib?" Okay, that hurt. I opened my mouth to defend my honour when a scratching sound came from behind me. High and to the right, atop some wrecks too far away to get to from where I was, and easy enough to disappear around.

"Gible." She sounded personally offended that my plan worked as I slowly turned.

The good news was that I was totally right, an Eevee.

The good news also stopped there.

Their coat was matted down; some of it was oil, some mud, and other things I wasn't completely sure about. Which was very strange. Eevees were no Cinccino. But they liked being clean. This one looked like it hadn't taken the time to groom in months. There was a redness to the whites of its eyes, and they were narrowed at me. Teeth barred fur standing on end.

"Veeeee!" It hissed. I held my hands up and stepped in front of Gible. It really wouldn't do if she took offence at the Eevee and decided that homicide was an appropriate response.

"It's okay," I kept my voice low and my body between the two Pokémon.

"Are you okay?" Dumb question, admittedly. "Do you need medicine?"

"Evee Eeeevee Veee!" It hissed, flicking its head away. Well, that was a clear 'get lost' if I'd ever seen one. Gible stepped around me before I could stop her. She was surprisingly quick when she wanted to be.

"Gib. Gible, Gib." Her voice was low, the same as mine, and didn't sound homicidal. Progress? Eevee didn't come any closer, but their hackles did go down a bit. We made eye contact, and it whipped its head away, a clear sign to go away.

"Eevee. Vee." Gible shrugged and turned away, waddling back the way she came. I followed slowly, not turning my back on the possible hostile Pokémon. Not until the office was safely between us.

"So Eevee huh?" I looked down at Gible, who gave a full-body wobbling shrug in return. "I was right!" I preened at my own excellence. Gible sighed and pulled her hands down her face in dismay.

The rest of the day was mostly uneventful. I didn't see Eevee again. Though I did catch a few glimpses of it dashing around here and there. Willow was a little sour about the whole thing. 'Oh, it's around me for months, but a week of you and some berries and it'll show itself.' Her smile gave the game away, though.

I had an idea or two on how an Eevee would have ended up here.

I suspected Willow did too.

We didn't talk about it.

"Alright, that's enough for today," Willow called out as I finished pulling out another seat.

"Got it, Boss."

"Gible?" She looked up from where she was playing with the Aron, bossing the Aron around, whichever it was.

"Time to go."

"Gib!" She jumped and waddled over at a surprisingly brisk pace.

"Nash, I'll give you a lift into town," Willow said. That was a first.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, Eevee are Field Egg Pokemon, right?" I cast my mind back to the information I'd skimmed about the species over the last few days.

"I think so," I spoke slowly.

"I'll ask the guy at the store," Willow said, heading towards the back gate of the yard. I'd never needed to go around there before. But the driveway did continue around, main deliveries came through the front gate, Boss parked out the back. Made sense. She opened the gate, and Gible stopped moving.

Behind the gate, parked a half dozen feet away under a tree was a pickup truck. Older model, but well taken care of. I didn't recognise the make, but that wasn't exactly a surprise. I didn't exactly keep up on that. I took a deep breath and knelt down in front of Gible. Blocking her view of the truck.

"Gib. Gible." Her breath came out in sharp bursts.

"It's okay. You're okay." I reached out slowly as her eyes focused in on me. I don't think she noticed that she was baring her teeth. My hand landed on Gible's stomach and began to rub it slowly.

"Gible." She looked around me at the truck and took a step back. She'd seen broken trucks before, but it seemed like the idea of getting in one was not her idea of a fun time.

I was not surprised.

I reached out with my other hand and pet her fin gently. Her breathing started to even out as I drew her forward into a gentle hug.

"Gib. Gible." She shivered a little.

"We don't have to go in if you don't want to." I was glad Willow hadn't said anything. This felt like a very delicate situation, and I didn't feel like getting hit by a Dragon Rage thanks to the land shark having a panic attack.

"Gible."

"Do you want me to carry you over so you can take a look, or do you just want to walk home?" Her little arms grabbed onto my shirt, and I lifted her up. "Alright, we're gonna go through it nice and slowly, okay."

"Gib." I stood, she always surprised me with how heavy she was. Gible was hefty for such a small package.

"Okay," She turned in my arms to see the truck. I felt her press back into me. That fin in my chest was not pleasant. "One step at a time, alright."

What would have been a twenty-second walkover was a five-minute exercise. I stopped regularly when I felt Gible's breathing speed up and didn't move until I felt her calm down.

"Gible." Her voice was low. I didn't put Gible anywhere near the tray. I knew that was a terrible idea. Maybe in a few months, but not right now. I didn't even open a door; instead, we looked at the outside of the cab. I reached out and touched the metal, then stepped close so Gible could copy.

"It's not good or bad. It's just a machine. Just a tool." Gible shivered in my arms.

"Do you want to get into the cab?" I pointed at the door she looked at it for a moment. Then gave a wobbly nod. I looked at Willow. Because if this went wrong, she could lose part of her car. She gave me a slow nod. I opened the door. Gible froze for a second. I didn't move to get in until she shuffled a little in my arms.

"Okay, up we go." I got into the cab. Gible was shaking. Not like a leaf, but there was a solid vibration of nervous energy. I touched parts of the cab, and she copied me. Slowly, very slowly, she began to calm down.

"You think you're okay to drive, or do you want to walk back to the centre?" Gible looked around for a moment and tucked back into me.

"Gible." She nodded and made no move towards the door, so I figured we were okay to drive.

"Boss, if you're still happy to take us into town." I looked out the window, and Willow nodded again.

"Yeah, I'll do it." She looked down at Gible, and her face softened. "You need to leave at any time. Let me know, okay?"

"Gib." She turned and gave a full-body nod, then resumed attempting to force her entire body into my chest cavity. Willow drove slowly. I was pretty sure we were consistently at least twenty under the speed limit. She was nice enough to let me out near Bob's with that week's pay, even if twelve thousand went straight back to her.

"Could've been worse, right?" I asked, looking down as Gible watched Boss driving away. She looked up at me and held her small arms up. I picked her up and brought her up to face level. Her stubby arms grabbed each side of my face, and she, gently, bumped her fin against my forehead.

"Gible."

"You're welcome." The rest of the trip was actually fairly uneventful. I paid the down payment to Bob, and he'd shoot me an email when he had a firm delivery time for the motor. Waved to Willow as she passed us going the opposite direction.

With I suspected was a bag of Eevee safe poke-pellets in the seat next to her. While Gible got to experience another walk heading back towards the Pokémon Center. She was a little less enthusiastic about investigating every little thing, but she'd had a long day.

"Afternoon, Jobe," I called, greeting the Day Nurse who would be on until six pm. I'd recognised him when I'd first seen him as the Nurse who looked in on Gible and me when Ben was first running his medical tests.

"Noon Nash, noon Gible." The man was built like he lifted boulders for fun, but had a very slight, almost subdued tone.

"Afternoon, Rustall." I greeted the Duosion Nurse, while I had my reservations about anything psychic, he had never been anything but pleasant.

"Duo! Sion!" Rustall made a small fan float off a nearby desk and waved it like a hand before going back to whatever cataloguing he was doing.

"Gible. Gib." The land shark greeted before going to sit in a corner.

"Nash," Jobe waved me over.

"Ever since the Ranger came down, we've been having locals and some travellers, mostly truckers, ask about Gible. Most of them are just interested if she's okay. Not exactly a secret she's here. But some of them are starting to ask about adoption opportunities. They don't know that she's slated to be re-homed if your application doesn't go through." The Nurses needed to weigh in on some of the adoption paperwork. They were well aware of what would happen if I wasn't chosen.

"Just wanted to give you a heads up. When you get the licence, you might get some people wanting to come and see Gible. They're not stupid, they'll put two and two together sooner or later. Especially since you're wandering around with her out of the pokeball now."

"Thanks, Jobe appreciate the heads up. Should I be worried?"

"Nah, I don't think so. Probably count on a few kids tracking you down sooner or later to see her."

"Just see or battle? Because I have no experience battling at all."

"Right, forget you're a Faller sometimes." He said it so easily, I felt every muscle in my arm twitch at once. I forced my hands to stop making fists.

"Probably just see, but you may wanna ask Gible about battling. Some Pokémon like Rustall ain't interested, but Dragons tend towards enjoying a good scrap."

"You take Dragon Type Behavioural Studies?" I couldn't help but ask with a chuckle. Jobe lit up hearing the course name.

"I did! Top of my class in it, actually. Though admittedly, my studies were more in line with native Unovian Dragons, the Hydreigon, Haxorus, and Druddigon lines specifically. Never actually got to work with a Hydreigon. Probably for the best. I spent some time studying Altaria and Flygon in the wild, as while they're not native, we do have a sizeable population. Actually, given the crossover in Dragon behavioural patterns and Gyarados, I spent almost a year working as part of an oceanic research and preservation facility studying them."

I blinked slowly, that...that was a lot to take in.

I was literally from another dimension, and Jobe was easily the most interesting person in this building.

What a day.

END.

---

I have been doing some work on Volume 2: Trauma not Televised.

I managed to get Chapters 2.3 through 2.5 done over the weekend. I'm expecting between 15 & 18 Chapters total.

Hope you're all doing well.

Most of my time over the last few days had been taken up finding somewhere to live. Today was the last day the Pokémon Center would accommodate me, and I certainly didn't make enough to get a solo rental.

I ended up needing to make a choice between renting a single room in a share house. Which admittedly would have been significantly cheaper, or paying for a shitty two-star motel for a little under twice the price.

I looked at the share house. Thought about what Gible could, and possibly would, do to someone if they surprised her and I wasn't there to calm it all down. Then bit the bullet and paid for the shitty motel.

Besides, I'd had roommates before. Money, supposedly, couldn't buy happiness. It could, however, buy peace and quiet, which was pretty damned close. Even if it would add time to my commute.

That bike could not be ready fast enough.

Technically speaking, I wasn't supposed to be taking Gible with me when I left. I had not been okayed to adopt her yet. Nobody in the center was stupid enough to try prying the traumatised, possibly homicidal, dragon away from her emotional support human.

Besides, Gible was, as far as injury was concerned, fully healed. Still a little malnourished, but we were working on that. I needed to bring her in daily for check-ups so the center could do their due diligence, but I needed to walk past to get back to the motel anyway. So it wasn't exactly going to take me out of my way.

Nurse Mindy had told me that when, her word, not mine, I was approved to be Gible's trainer, they'd need her to come in once a week instead, at least for the first month. All of the medical data from the checkups would be forwarded to the PPP. I was perfectly happy to do that. Not like I knew a lot of people around here anyway, so a bit of conversation while she got her check up would probably help me not go insane...more insane anyway.

I knew I wasn't perfectly stable.

"Morning, Ben." I waved to the familiar nurse, dragging myself into the center's waiting room and over to one of the public computers. Gible waddled in behind me, looked at Ben, raised an arm in greeting, and plopped down next to me.

Today was going to be a big day. I didn't exactly have a lot of stuff to move. So that was going to be easy. But the Warren County Sheriff Department had let me know they'd be by today at two pm. On behalf of the Unova Department of Pokémon and Plant Protection. Wasn't sure what kind of interview it would be.

But at least there was some positive movement in that front.

I checked my email, mostly spam.

Only two emails were worth reading. The first was from Bob, the mechanic. The motor had been confirmed shipped. Due to arrive in two weeks. He'd also included a reminder that full payment would be due within a week of installation. I'd been squirrelling away spare cash where I could. I should have enough to pay the invoice the same day it came in.

Barring any unexpected large, for me anyway, purchases.

The second was the motel confirming my booking.

I looked at the time and mentally ordered my day.

Go to work.

Do police meeting.

Move stuff to motel.

Meet Jobe.

The Nurse had been nice enough to volunteer a bit of his time to teach me a bit about Dragon Types.

Apparently, Rustall was his only partner, who wasn't a Dragon Type. Gible was a bit excited; she'd never met an Altaria or Flygon before, as best as I could tell. But she was looking forward to meeting Dragons.

Work was pretty average, disassemble a car, tuck, camper van, whatever was put in front of me. Keep a half eye on Gible as she bossed around about half of the Aron. Who now listened to her, and wasn't that a terrifying idea? Small Land Shark in control of metal-eating rock monsters.

Sounded like a B-movie I'd have binged one night out of boredom and paradoxical interest.

There would have absolutely been alcohol involved.

Still, it was probably harmless, I doubted Dad-ggron and Mum-ggron would let it get too out of hand. Besides, Gible liked me. I was pretty sure that I'd be fine under her new world order. The one thing that had changed was lunch.

Oh, I still could only afford one hot meal a week and was subsisting on different types of sandwiches. Today was strawberry jam. I'd seen Gible eye it more than once, so I made sure that either my backpack or she was constantly in view. Otherwise, I had a sneaking suspicion I'd find myself missing lunch.

"So...how you been?" I was not a great conversation starter. Gible seemed content to ignore the trash cat-dog-fox-thing, whatever Eevee was. The small mammal gave me a flat look; it apparently thought little of my abilities in the realm of conversation as well.

"Vee." It wasn't a hiss, which was an improvement. But I kind of felt like I was getting the Pokémon equivalent of monosyllabic answers. Ever since Willow had gone and gotten poke-pellets that were good for Field Egg Class Pokemon, Eevee had been willing to let itself be seen. Still hadn't tried to touch it, got the feeling I'd be missing most of my hand if I did that.

He or she, still not sure which, had started to put on weight again and looked a fair bit healthier. I hadn't broached the subject of the Pokémon Center. I didn't think Willow had either. I had a feeling it wouldn't appreciate that.

Eevee, not seeing any more 'conversation' being forth coming, went back to eating the poke-pellets Willow had left out. I munched on my sandwich, and Gible was busy deciding how exactly she wanted to break up her Pecha berry and poke-pellet mix.

I reached into my bag.

Eevee was immediately on guard. Eyes fixed on me, ears back. They weren't growling or running, but they certainly weren't happy.

"Calm down." I removed the Cheri berry. Violet eyes followed it, and I swear I saw drool.

"You mind if I come over and put it in, or would you rather I roll it to you?" My voice broke whatever spell Eevee was under. Its eyes narrowed, then it very slowly kicked a stone, rolling it away. I leaned down and sent the berry on its way.

Eevee didn't come closer.

Waiting until the berry had rolled right to its bowl before picking it up in its paws and moving a little further back. We weren't going to be besties in matching shirts anytime soon, but trust was a slow road, and I was building it brick by brick. The Pokémon looked up at me and nodded once.

"Ev Eevee." I was going to assume that was a 'thank you' and not a 'get bent arsehole'.

"You're welcome."

The rest of the day passed without incident. Eevee still wasn't showing themselves on the regular, but instead of racing between cover all the time. I occasionally saw them walking between piles of scrap where no human would be able to get to them.

I'd take the improvement.

Willow saw me off with just enough time to get back to the Pokémon Center for another sandwich and a shower before waiting for whoever was coming to arrive. Luckily, I didn't have to wait long. A familiar vehicle with Sheriff logo painted on the side pulled into the parking lot. Deputy Yates jumped out. She looked a little tired. Couldn't tell if it was overwork or just a long shift.

"Gib." I reached down and pet her on the fin.

"She's good, no need to bite her in half, okay." I got a surly look in return.

"Gible."

"Deputy!" I called out as she walked through the center doors.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Johnstone." She looked down and smiled. "And you must be Gible, nice to meet you."

"Gib." The land shark said dismissively and turned away. You know what, that was better than outright aggression. I'd take it.

"Should we get started?"

"Of course, you're staying in the Trainer Accommodations, right?"

"Yeah. I'm packing up today to head to a motel." It was a white lie; Gible's room was not the Trainer Accommodations.

"Alright, we'll do it there. No point in making a public spectacle." I walked her to the room I'd never spent more than a night in and sat down in one of the padded chairs. Deputy Yates, who told me just to call her Ava after a few minutes, and I swapped a bit of small talk before jumping headfirst into the interview.

It wasn't as long as Ranger Randall's, but there were a lot of the same questions. Gible was a little more restrained, but not by a lot. She only growled at some questions instead of threatening a Dragon Rage. It was a forty-five-minute process where Ava would take notes, ask a question, and take more notes.

"Alright, I think we're done." She said, leaning back in her chair.

"How'd we do?"

"Well, I could tell you it's not a pass-fail, but I'd be lying. Overall, Gible reacted to a lot of the questions the same way she did in Ranger Hoffmann's report. Not quite as violently in some cases, which is a good thing. She likes you."

"Gible." The land shark, hearing that, stood from beside my seat and jumped up, landing on my lap and demanding belly rubs.

"Really likes you." Ava corrected with a small smile. "Just need to check one more thing, Gible?" She said, getting her attention. "Would you be okay if I sent out a Pokémon?"

"Gib." A small nod accompanied the word there was a quick flash of light, and a Growlithe stretched next to Ava's chair. Gible kept a close eye on the Pokémon but otherwise didn't react. Ava nodded and put another note in her book.

"Honestly, based on everything I've seen and heard. I agree with Ranger Hoffmann's assessment. You'd be good for her. That'll be going in my report. I'll also be taking some statements from the Pokémon Nurses here that should help with the decision-making process. But as far as I'm concerned, compatibility is good."

"Excellent." I smiled and rubbed Gible's belly again.

"If you don't mind me asking, how's the investigation going?"

"I can't comment too much away on an ongoing investigation." Deputy Yates replied immediately.

"But as you're already involved and helped bring the situation to our attention. I can tell you we've implemented measures to prevent what happened to Gible from being overlooked again, and that anyone who was involved likely left the area."

"So we shouldn't need to worry?" Randall had seemed sure that any sane smuggler would leave Gible alone. But it didn't hurt to double-check.

"I wouldn't think so. A Gible is worth a lot of money to them, a female more so, from what I could find, twelve million would be considered the minimum." Deputy Yates said slowly.

"That. That. That's a lot of money." My mind rebooted after a moment. Gible didn't seem to fully grasp what kind of number that was, lucky her. My welfare payments were one point four million a year. She was worth at least eight and a half times what I got in a year.

I pet Gible's belly again.

It calmed me.

"It is. However, any organisation that can afford to catch and reliably transport a Gible illegally likely is a fairly large one."

"Not making me feel better."

"Which means while they would have liked to have kept Gible. They know that drawing more attention by trying to get her back would be more trouble than it's worth. Keep in mind, they're a business. While Gible is a payday, she's definitely not worth making them even more visible by trying to steal her back. That would mean more attention and likely a lot more damage to their bottom line."

"That actually does make me feel a bit better." Economic risk was something I could understand.

"I'd hoped it would. But before I go, I would like to talk to you about the trouble you may experience." And like that, my teeth were on edge.

"Shoot."

"Firstly, while whatever organisation that was trafficking Gible is unlikely to try to recover her. She is still a reasonably rare Pokemon even in her native regions. She will draw attention, which means you will likely have a lot of people just coming up and asking to see her. You don't have to show them, of course. But if you stay in an area long enough, you'll probably have a lot of people you don't know coming around to ask about her."

"Okay, could be worse." I didn't really have a set address. So not really a problem at the moment.

"Outside of possible reductions in privacy." Ava's expression turned grim. "We need to talk about Poachers."

"I thought you said it was unlikely whoever took Gible would try to get her back."

"It is," Ava assured me.

"But we're not talking about organisations. We're talking about individuals who are desperate enough to try stealing her for profit. It is unlikely, but anyone who has a rare Pokémon has to think about it. It's one of the reasons people sometimes opt for more common partners. You're a Faller." I felt the familiar flame ignite, my teeth ground before I forced my jaw to relax.

"I don't mean that as an insult or an accusation. But I thought you may not be aware of that danger, and it would be remiss of me not to make you aware of it."

"Thank you." I had to ground the words out. But I did appreciate the explanation.

"You're welcome," Ava said with a small smile. "Do you have a cellphone?"

"No."

"Get one. I'm not asking you to call in every vaguely suspicious thing you see. But being able to call for help if you need it could be important to you in the future."

"Thank you, Deputy."

"No problem. You also may want to get some battle practice in. Even if you don't have a desire to become a Professional Trainer If you're in a position where you can't call for help or help won't arrive in time, that could help you two stay safe, or if you're confronted by an enraged Pokemon, the difference between life and death."

"Yeah, we're actually meeting someone about that a bit later."

"Perfect. Well, thank you very much for your time, Nash. I'll put my report and the Pokémon Nurses' statements in today. The PPP usually takes between four and seven business days to read through the reports. Plus, the time for paperwork to process...you'll probably get their verdict in about two weeks. Give them a call if you don't see anything by then. Sometimes you need to force them to hurry up." She stood, and we shook hands.

"No problem, thanks for the information, Ava." I walked her out to the front door and waved as she drove off. "I think that went well."

"Gible."

"Yeah, I'm tired too. Let's get the stuff moved out and over to the new place. Lot of day left, got to do something with it."

"Gib," She sighed, and I looked down, amused.

"What are you so glum about? You're not carrying anything." I grabbed what little I had and walked back out to the waiting area. "See ya tomorrow, Ben."

"See you then, Nash. Take care, Gible!" The Nurse called out with a wave. The walk to the motel wasn't that bad. It was pretty close to the Charge Court and Bob's mechanics.

The imaginatively named Geddes Lodge.

I put Gible back in her ball before we went inside, just to avoid questions. Sure, they'd come sooner or later, but my social battery was getting close to zero, and I had one more meeting today.

Check-in was quick and easy. I'd already prepaid for the stay. I got given a paper map noting the Pokemon Bathrooms, and the very bored-looking receptionist told me the hot water was out. It should be fixed sometime soon, good thing I showered earlier. I let Gible out when we entered the room; she gave it a once-over. I could see her compare it to the Pokémon Center, then she turned with an expression of dissatisfaction.

"Gible!"

"Yeah. You get what you pay for." I looked over the rickety single bed, bar fridge that looked to be from fifty years ago, small chest of drawers, an unlikely to function heater, and stained walls. "I didn't pay a lot."

"Gible!"

"Hope you don't mind sharing the bed." Ignoring her increasingly disgusted face, I pulled out my sleeping bag. I didn't trust the sheets. I lay down for a moment and sighed, letting my aches be absorbed into the mattress. There was a bounce as Gible jumped up and lay down next to me. I reflexively placed an arm around her and rubbed her stomach.

How big did Gabite get?

What about Garchomp?

I was gonna need to rent bigger rooms at some point.

Probably get a bigger tent too.

Problems for later.

I let myself relax and began dozing. Almost nodding off before reminding myself of Jobe and flicking back to alert. I gave Gible's belly a couple of drumbeat slaps. She started awake, fully falling into the trap I had barely avoided.

"Gibbllleee." She whined.

"Jobe," I replied, standing and walking to the door. Good thing I hadn't taken my sneakers off yet. Still needed to get new ones. Gible let out a sigh but hopped off the bed and followed me. "In or out of the ball?" She rolled her eyes and walked past me as I opened the door.

It didn't take long to reach the meeting place Jobe had told me about. Roughly a ten-minute walk past the Charge Court. A lush field near the road. It was nice of him to agree to help. Also incredibly suspicious. I'd told Willow about the meeting offhandedly; if Gible and I didn't turn up tomorrow, hopefully she'd call for help.

"Afternoon, Nash! Afternoon Gible!" The mountain of a man called back in his bright tone.

"Afternoon Jobe!"

"Gible!"

"Nice to see you both!" He really did have an infectious smile. A pokeball popped open and Rustall the Duosion appeared.

"Duo!" Gible and I greeted Rustall. Jobe's expression remained friendly, but his eyes grew a bit more serious.

"Okay, I have two more Pokémon to introduce you to Gible." The land shark nodded eagerly. "Come on out, Alex!" Jobe threw the ball high into the air as it popped open. Fluffy white wings expanded around a blue body, and an inquisitive beaked head looked down. The Altaria let out a trill of song and dove down, enveloping Jobe's body for a moment before landing in front of Gible, who looked star-struck.

"Al-Altaria."

"Gib! Gible!"

"Alex and I met back when I was doing research on local Swablu populations in my first year of college. We clicked, and so he decided to come along." Alex turned, gave an agreeable hum, and then returned to entertaining Gible.

"Alright, next up!" Jobe threw this ball as hard as he could away from us. It popped open. Green body, wings edged in red. A pair of red, goggle-like capsules over its eyes. The Flygon let out a harsh cry before buzzing over to Jobe at speeds I hadn't seen a Pokémon reach before. They darted around him for a few seconds as though making sure he was okay before settling in front.

"This is Victoria. In my third year, we went to study the Flygon population in the Great Basin near the Desert Resort. We met when she was a Trapinch. I helped her out of a spot of trouble." At those words, Victoria rose up and attempted to shush her trainer by pressing his mouth closed. Jobe laughed and swatted her arms away. "Fine, I won't tell him."

"Fly. Flygon." Victoria nodded and swooped over to where Gible and Altaria were talking and settling in.

"What about Rustall?"

"Sorry?"

"Where'd you meet Rustall?"

"Oh, actually, I met him in high school."

"Really."

"Oh yeah. Back when he was a Solosis. He liked sitting in on classes, and we just kinda clicked."

"Huh."

"Yeah, not really the most interesting story that one."

"Duo." Rustall bobbed up and down in what I knew for him was a nod. Then floated off to join the other Pokémon.

"Okay, while keeping her distracted, we can talk," Jobe said, looking over at the collected Pokémon. "But before I start rattling off Dragon facts, any questions?"

"Yeah, actually. Why is Rustall still a Duosion?"

"I don't follow."

"Well, you said you met him as a Solosis, right, in high school."

"Yeah."

"So he's been with you the longest?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, it's just the other two have fully evolved, and he hasn't."

"Yeah, that's because they're Dragons."

"Now I'm not following."

"So, while the full intricacies of evolution are a fairly hotly debated topic. It's not age-based, though that can play a role in some younger Pokémon like Happiny. What is a known fact is that it requires outer and inner stimuli. The Pokémon has to be internally strong enough to undergo evolution and physically in a situation or state that would demand it. Be that combat or simply living. These stressors can be greater or lesser depending on the species, and there are some aspects we still don't understand. Like what causes certain Eeveelutions. Do you follow so far?"

"I think so." Jobe nodded.

"So Rustall didn't really care for battling. Not something he was interested in. Liked learning more. We had a few tight scrapes with wild Pokemon occasionally, so eventually he became a Duosion. But after that, Alex joined the team, and he likes fighting. Rustall doesn't love it, so we never tried the Ace Trainer route, but it meant Alex handled the Pyroar's share of the combat. Then Victoria joined, and Rustall hasn't needed to do any fighting since; he's never been in a situation that would require evolving again."

"Okay. I follow so far, and that has to do with Dragons, how?"

"Ah, it's how they form social hierarchies."

"Come again. In my ears this time." Jobe gave me a weird look. I grimaced and waved him on; no one got my references anymore.

"Yeah, two things influence a Dragon's place in their society. The first is age; older Dragon Types are usually given more respect. The second is power. The stronger you are, the more Dragon Types will follow your lead. This means even Swablu and Trapinch that evolve into Dragon Types have a decent drive to fight, as it's how they secure their place in society."

"Okay, I'm pretty sure I follow that."

"Good. I bring it up because you're going to need to find an outlet for Gible sooner or later. Training helps, but eventually she'll want to face off against a Pokémon to see how she's improved. Honestly, if everything had gone to plan, I probably would have talked you through some basic Dragon psychology."

"Gone to plan?"

"Yeah, I was actually supposed to be there when Gible woke up to calm her down. It's why I stuck my head in that day. But when she woke up earlier than expected, that kinda went out the window. Once you calmed her down wasn't much point in me turning up. Ben knows how to heal her as well as I do; it was just about keeping her calm enough to heal."

"So what are some basics to know about Dragons?" I hadn't had a lot of time to really sit down and learn about the world. Too busy trying to find places to live.

"Well, statistically, the first meeting is actually the most dangerous."

"Really?" That did make sense. Pokémon weren't wild animals. But I'd be pretty pissed if someone just walked into my space and started asking questions. Especially if they broke into my equivalent of a house to do it.

"Oh yeah. Dragons are very proud, decently territorial, and will employ extreme violence. So you've got to be very careful when approaching them and earning their trust. You wouldn't, for example, go into a Dragon's nest without being invited, and you usually bring a gift. Gift depends on the Dragon. Once the Dragon knows you and likes you, then you couldn't be in better company."

"It's not uncommon for wild Dragon Types to defend researchers who have earned their trust. They can go overboard and become too protective of 'their people,' so to speak. But you've been heading that off well, even if you didn't realise it. It definitely helps you, probably saved Gible's life. That kinda help is why she's so willing to follow your lead." Jobe shook his head.

"Honestly, there's not a lot of specific Dragon-based knowledge you'll need to know now you've earned Gible's trust. Ninety percent of Dragon Type Behavioural Studies was about how not to be eviscerated on your first meeting. It was all pretty downhill from there. Diets are something you could pick up pretty easily. Dragons are very protein forward, but any Pokémon Center would be happy to look at Gible and tell you where to go in that direction."

We watched in silence for a few minutes as the Pokémon interacted. Flygon and Gible were playing a game where she attempted to get close, and Victora tried to trip her over using her tail. When Gible finally managed it and jumped up and down in joy. Alex slipped in to add another layer of difficulty.

"She's doing well."

"Yeah."

"But that does bring me to the other part."

"Other part."

"Yeah, I mentioned it earlier. Training and battling with Gible."

"Right, that."

"First stage Dragons have one thing in common, they're usually very different from their final forms. Due to this, combat strategies and the like aren't that important. Focus on improving physical ability overall and ranged attacks. By the time she evolves, that'll act as a great basis."

"Actually, question, why aren't there more fully evolved Dragon Types around if power plays such a central role in society?" Jobe's smile dimmed a little.

"Well, dragons reproduce slowly, so that's one reason. The other is that, outside of human assistance, a lot of fighting in the wild can turn deadly. In a decade, a healthy Dragon will lay five to seven eggs. Of those seven, maybe two will make it to adulthood and full evolution."

"Well, that's...grim."

"That's nature."

"True enough. What's the best way to train ranged attacks?"

"Not gonna ask about physical?"

"I've boxed, wrestled, and kick-boxed before. Even helped coach a couple of guys in amateur events. I can handle physical." Never cornered a pro, but I trained part-time, so that wasn't surprising.

"Anyone I'd have heard of?"

"Faller, remember."

"Right, sorry for the reminder."

"It's fine."

"So, for ranged attacks, there are three things to work on for the basics. Most increases come with time and experience. So what you want to focus on is Coverage, the wideness or length of a technique, and Compression, keeping it under pressure to release more powerfully. Finally, Speed, how fast Gible can fire regardless of power."

"Okay, thanks, I can think of a few things for testing that."

"If you run out of ideas, look online, trainers brainstorm all the time."

"Thanks."

"Any other questions?"

"Couple actually." One of which I'd been wondering about for a while.

"Shoot."

"Why do so many people have three or less Pokémon?" Jobe blinked twice before answering.

"Mostly Economics."

"Economics?"

"Yeah, don't get me wrong, the Pokémon Center is government-funded, and we can keep them healthy, but owning a Pokémon has a lot of costs. Housing, feeding, and training time, if needed. Licensing fees in some cases. There are a lot of costs in both time and money. So most people stick to three Pokemon unless their job requires more and they write it off as an expense, or they're an Ace Trainer who gets paid to battle." Well, that was one question answered.

"So what was your other question?" Jobe asked, interrupting my spiralling thoughts.

"About getting Gible into a Pokémon battle. Do I just wander into the woods and find a Pokémon to beat up?" I tried not to sound awkward, I really did. Jobe let out a laugh, realised it wasn't a joke, and laughed harder.

I wilted a little.

"Some Pokémon are up for that. But no, I really wouldn't advise it. Larger cities often have battle facilities you can use for a price against a Personal Trainer and usually do monthly tournaments for a modest entry fee and sometimes a small cash prize."

"Geddes got anything like that?"

"Yeah, actually, no cash prize but no entry fee either, a lot of young people in town and some of the old timers run a monthly league day out of the Pokémon Center." I blinked twice.

"Really."

"Yeah, it's pretty low key, but we have fun."

"You compete?"

"You're looking at the reigning Geddes Champion."

"Singles or Doubles?" I asked, drawing on what little memory I had of the games. Jobe looked at me with a very self-satisfied smile.

"Yes."

END.

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