Pokémon Of Angst and Anguish (RP One-shot)

[HelloYellow17]

Spoiler: Author’s Note, please read

Howdy! In honor of both International Whump Day and the second anniversary of OSAS today, I decided to post a one-shot that I wrote for the current RP campaign, Festival of Friendship.

The context behind this is that Wes, Neo and Novo arrived with all the other RP characters to Darkrai’s realm, where they were each thrown into their very worst nightmare. The requirement was to have each character overcome their nightmare/fear in some way.

The Wes I brought to this RP is also from a little later in the OSAS timeline, so if there are any inconsistencies you notice when he references those back in Orre, that is why. :)

Last but not least, I have music set up for each scene and you are more than welcome to click the links and listen as you read! Enjoy!

Of Angst and Anguish

CW: This fic contains depictions of blood, injury, death, and suicidal ideation. ​

The wind howled, billowing gusts of sand in every direction. Neo flattened his ears and pressed against Wes’ side, staring blankly at his brother’s lifeless form.

Not real. Not real. Not real.

It was the only reasonable explanation. Yes, that was it. This was…a game. It was pretend. Ha! Of course! Novo was bad at this. Neo would show him how it was done.

Neo flicked his ears and trilled playfully, though admittedly the sound was a bit shakier than he’d have liked. Not because he was scared, or anything, though, because this wasn’t real. Wasn’t real, wasn’t real—

He nudged at Novo’s head with a chirp. Very funny! You can’t fool me!

Novo did not move.

Neo lashed his tail, his terse amusement rapidly shifting to anger. He barked. Not funny anymore. Get up! Why was his voice so shrill?

“Neo.” Wes was quiet. Too quiet. Neo met his trainer’s eyes and immediately wished he hadn’t. Those eyes were hauntingly empty. Dark.

Another gust of wind painfully pelted him, the grains of sand like glass shards.

Not real. Not real. Not real.

Neo snapped back to his brother with a snarl. He paced around to Wes’ other side to where Novo’s tail was, then bit down on it, much like he used to when they were kits and Novo refused to play. Except this time, he was biting much harder than he ever would have dared before.

Nothing.

“Stop. Stop it.” Wes’ voice broke. “He’s gone, Neo, he’s—dammit—” he bowed his head low, and his tone shifted into a furious snarl. “He’s dead, Neo!”

Something about the change in his voice made Neo’s fur stand on end. He took a step back, and as he did so, the wind picked up, howling ferociously and whipping curtains of sand all around them. Neo could still make out the hunched form of his trainer, but only barely—

And then Wes’ form began to shift.

Fear prickled under Neo’s pelt as he watched dark, shadowy tendrils flicker and overtake what was supposed to be his trainer. He caught the sound of a growl over the wailing winds, but it no longer sounded like Wes. It didn’t even sound human.

The dark, shapeless figure turned to Neo, baring vicious fangs and glaring with hateful, predatory eyes. Neo yelped and stumbled backwards. This was not Wes, it couldn’t be—but if it wasn’t, then where was he? And Novo—his brother’s body was no longer anywhere to be seen, and Neo wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or horrified. Where was Novo? Where was his family? Why was he alone?

The shadowy figure lunged, and Neo barely managed to leap out of the way with a panicked yip. He got a closer look at those gleaming eyes—amber, the color of Wes’ eyes, but no, this wasn’t him, it wasn’t—

“What good are you if you can’t even pull your weight?” The creature sneered as it spoke in a cold, distorted imitation of Wes’ voice. But it was slightly fuzzy somehow, as if speaking through a crackling radio. “This is your fault. Novo is dead because of you!”

Neo shrank into himself and backed away, quivering. No, no, this wasn’t…he didn’t mean to…was Novo really…? No, no, no, nononono—

“You’re pathetic. Useless. Weak!”

The words stung far more than the sandstorm ever could have. Neo let out an involuntary whimper. Useless? Did he really mean that? Wes had never spoken to him like this, not ever, how could he—?

The not-Wes towered over him, shadows flaring and rippling around its silhouette, like a terrifying, malicious ghost—

Ghost.

Something clicked in Neo’s brain. Ghost. Ghost. Bad and evil. Hurting people. Stealing them, attacking them—

He looked up into the monster’s eyes once more. Not real. Somewhere out there was a nasty and mean ghost, but it was not this one. And wherever that one was, Neo needed to be there. To protect Novo. To protect Wes.

Because Wes…would never speak to him this way.

Neo lashed his tail and bared his fangs in a wicked grin, the jewel on his forehead sparkling with psychic energy. You are not my family! And you are BAD at playing pretend!

With a yowl, he fired a Psybeam straight at the creature’s head, right between those awful golden eyes.

The sandstorm stopped.

Neo blinked, and suddenly he was in a strange, bright void, with bright blue skies overhead and a glossy surface beneath his paws. It rippled like water with each step he took, yet was perfectly dry and…soft, somehow. Neo blinked down and saw his own shocked reflection staring back at him. He was standing on…a mirror?

He looked up and around, swiveling his ears in all directions for any sign of sound. The reflective surface stretched on as far as he could see (which was super far, because he was an awesome Espeon, obviously) and despite straining his ears, everything was completely silent.

Oddly, though, the silence was comforting rather than spooky. It was a welcome relief from the loud wind and the screams of that bad pretend-Wes. He purred in amusement. Haha, how could he have fallen for that, even for a second! Kind of embarrassing, really. At least nobody had been around to see it. Neo padded onward, lost in thought, scanning the area for a way out or another sign of life—

Neo.

He felt it rather than heard it; a voice, calling out his name from somewhere far away. He glanced around and jumped when he heard it again. Was that…Novo?

Neo!

The voice was clearer now. Novo sounded...scared. But where was he? Neo paced about restlessly, calling out for his brother.

Neo! Neo! Please!

Neo whined in agitation and clawed at the ground. Novo was upset, he was in trouble, but he was nowhere in sight—

His paw sunk through the floor and he jumped with a very undignified yelp. He bristled and snarled at the ground for daring to make a fool out of him—

Novo. In place of Neo’s reflection, Novo was there, on the floor—in the floor? His wounded pride forgotten, Neo barked and scrabbled at the ground.

But Novo could not seem to hear or see him. Instead, he yowled and wailed, looking this way and that while he panted in distress. Neo clawed more fiercely at the mirror, and the strangely soft surface began to give way.

Novo! I am coming!

---

Novo thrashed. And snarled. And thrashed some more…but it was no use. He was stuck, stuck, and the anguished wail that escaped him barely sounded like his own as he watched Wes and Neo collapse.

The horrible, shadowy figure hovered over their lifeless forms, and even through the blinding sandstorm, Novo saw it pull back its lips in a grotesque grin. It opened its mouth, as if to swallow them whole—

Fwwwwooom! Dark energy bundled up from within before firing out of Novo’s flaring rings with brutal force. Most of the wave hit the sands around him and vanished, but a few small slivers of the Dark Pulse attack managed to cut through sheets of flying sand and made contact with their target.

The creature barely flinched, but it was enough to make it pause. It turned its head to Novo, eyes narrowed, then sneered at the sight of him sinking into the dune.

“Pitiful little creature who could not even protect his loved ones. You are not worth my time.”

Novo shrieked in fury and writhed uselessly in the sand. Had to get out, had to protect them, had to rip this cursed creature to shreds for daring to touch them—

Novo! Neo’s voice was so distant he almost didn’t catch it. Novo couldn’t see Neo clearly from where he was trapped, but that cry had definitely been his brother’s. He howled as loudly as he could.

Neo! I am coming!

He couldn’t let him fight that creature on his own, alone and scared and injured, he had to help him, save him, protect him—

Novo! The winds picked up, obscuring Wes, Neo and their foe altogether.

No. No! He wailed and sank ever deeper. He couldn’t fail them, not here, not like this, what was he good for if he couldn’t keep them safe? What kind of brother would he be to either of them, to let them suffer?

Novo! The voice was clearer now. Stop!

Stop? Stop? This only infuriated him more. Did Neo not believe in him, either? No matter how strong his brother was, he wasn’t capable of handling everything on his own all the time! Novo flailed some more, sinking deeper and getting angrier by the minute—

STOP! The yowl was almost directly in his ear. Novo flinched and hissed, looking around for the source, for his stupid, stubborn, idiot brother who needed to just shut up and let him help—

Still! No moving! I will help you!

Novo barked angrily. He didn’t need help, they did, he just needed to get out of this hole.

LET ME HELP! An invisible paw from…from somewhere cuffed him over the back of his head. Stupid!

Novo took a moment to ponder exactly how he would remind Neo of his type advantage once he was free. But then he heard his brother again, this time sounding sad and upset.

Can’t help unless you let me.

…Oh. Oh.

Novo fell still, slowly lowering his raised hackles. Neo didn’t have to do everything alone…so why did he expect that of himself?

Why had he tried to fight Orzo alone?

Everything snapped into place with perfect clarity, and Novo finally understood.

He relaxed and closed his eyes, ducking his head against the wind, and suddenly all fell silent. When he opened his eyes again, the desert was gone, replaced with blue skies and a bright, open void, with Neo standing in front of him.

His brother jumped up and down, yapping excitedly. You did it! And I did too! You were dead but not really and Wes turned into a ghost that was bad at pretending and I think I made him go away and then you made yours go away too!

Novo blinked, not understanding a word that was just said, then decided it didn’t matter and he nuzzled into Neo with an affectionate purr. Good job.

Neo purred so loudly in Novo’s ears it made his brain buzz. Good job good job good job! We are safe! He paused, blinked, and then his words began to slow. Maybe we…can find…Wes? He trailed off into a yawn, and Novo suddenly realized just how tired he was feeling, too.

Yes…he mirrored Neo’s yawn, then attempted to fight it off with a full-body shake. He didn’t know where this abrupt sleepiness was coming from, but they couldn’t succumb to it, not yet. Not until they found Wes…

He brushed past Neo and glanced around the wide, expansive landscape, pricking his ears up and forward as he strained for any sound or sign of where to go. Neo joined him at his side, and the two padded onwards for a while.

Novo felt himself getting sleepier with every step. But…he couldn’t stop. Not yet…

Neo chirped sluggishly and angled himself to the left, stumbling a little despite the smooth ground. Think…I hear him…somewhere...

Novo took his word for it and followed sluggishly. After several steps, he thought he could hear Wes’ voice, too…or was he just imagining it? He too tired…to think straight…

Neo wobbled, then his legs gave out beneath him. He rolled onto his side, eyes half-lidded and foggy. Sleepy…

Novo didn’t even have the presence of mind to react in time. He tripped over one of Neo’s outstretched legs and found himself flopping onto the ground beside him. His limbs were now too heavy to move, his eyes didn’t want to stay open, but he had to keep going, had to…find…Wes…

His eyes fell closed. He heard Neo sigh. Then, like a soft blanket, sleep descended and overtook both of them.

---

Everything was too silent. Too cold. Too still.

The air was squeezed from Wes’ lungs and left nothing but ice in its wake, in his chest, in his veins. How…how…how could this happen—

He collapsed to his knees, hovering his shaking hands over their shredded, bloodstained forms.

Why weren’t they with me, they’re always with me—

Neo was breathing, but only barely. Novo let out a high, keening whine that cut short as he gulped for air.

Why wasn’t I here, what was I doing, why the hell was I not here—

Quivering fingers fumbled for the bag slung around his shoulders, but found nothing. No bag. No supplies. Why, why, why—

Stop. Breathe. Focus on who you can save.

No, no, shut up, shut the hell up, he was going to save them both, dammit, both of them, both of them—

Focus.

Wes’ hands seemed to work of their own accord, sweeping off his jacket and tearing it into strips with a precision that utterly betrayed his crumbling psyche. He pressed the cloth to a profusely bleeding gash at Neo’s neck, then to another on Novo’s belly, desperately bandaging and applying pressure to any wound he could see—

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a quiet, detached, eerily calm voice observed the way the teal fabric faded to black almost instantly on contact, the way bandage after bandage soaked through within seconds, and whispered that this was useless.

Wes was gasping for air now, too, choking back sobs, his heart racing so fast he felt sick. They couldn’t die, they wouldn’t die, he could not let them die, this wasn’t supposed to happen, this couldn’t be happening—

Something bumped his hand, accompanied with a frail, shivering whine. Novo looked up at him, eyes frighteningly dull, his rings dim.

“S’fine—it’s fine, you’re fine, Neo’s fine, you’ll be okay, don’t worry, I promise, I—”

Novo moved his unsteady head and nudged him again. He gave a hoarse, crackling mew, then nuzzled into Wes’ hand, his sides heaving with each labored breath. There was a look in his eyes, softer and more tender than words. A look of peace. Of acceptance.

Above the blood and the ragged gasps and the atrocious wounds, that look was most horrifying of all. Wes choked out a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a sob.

“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t, don’t you dare, don’t look at me like that, don’t fucking give me that—”

A weak purr rumbled from Novo’s chest, garbled by the blood in his throat and nose. He blinked slowly and gave a single wag of his tail, which rose barely an inch before flopping back to the floor with a pitiful thump. He mewed again, this time in nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

It’s okay.

The message was as clear as if he had spoken human words. He gazed into Wes’ eyes with that same expression, that horrible calmness and acceptance, and even as Novo’s eyes grew duller with each breath, they were brimming with warmth and love—love, love, so much love—

Wes broke.

He pulled Novo into his chest and sobbed, grief racking his body with icy, venomous claws from the inside out, tearing at him with such ferocity he was sure he would simply burst. Even as Novo’s ragged purrs filled his ears, Wes couldn’t ignore how cold he felt in his arms, or the way his rings flickered like a dying candle, or the fact that Neo had stopped breathing and gone eerily still a few minutes ago, the fact that they were leaving him, leaving, and there would be nothing left—

Novo stretched out a paw that barely brushed his trainer’s chin.

We…do not…regret.

Wes sobbed harder and held him closer. How, how could they be so at peace with this, when this was his fault, his fault, his fault, this was all his fault, why did it have to be them and not him, why—

We…love…you.

Novo let his head rest against Wes’ shoulder. He even seemed to be smiling.

We…always…will.

With a soft shudder and a sigh mingled with a final purr, he closed his eyes and went still.

Time stopped. All Wes knew was the dark and empty room, the cold room, and for the first time in his life, his Pokémon—his brothers, his family—couldn’t keep him warm no matter how tightly he held them both. He couldn’t hear anything over the blood roaring in his ears, save for a distant wailing and sobbing that he only dimly recognized as his own. Eventually, even those stopped, because despite how much he wanted to, his voice was not made to scream forever.

When he came back to himself, he was lying on the floor, both Pokémon bundled to his chest, their bodies cold and stiff. There was no telling how long he’d been like this, curled up tight and clutching Neo and Novo’s fur like a lifeline, but the difficulty he had in unclenching his icy fingers from their matted pelts indicated it had been a long time. Hours, at least. Maybe even days.

Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered anymore.

At length, Wes managed to push himself upright, unfurling his arms from around the lifeless pair. They were so unnaturally still, so ripped up and torn and bloodied. He couldn’t bear to look at them. He couldn’t bear to look away. He feared they would disappear if he averted his eyes for one second, and then they would be gone. Forever.

They’re already gone.

He curled his hands into fists. Grief welled up again, hollowing him from the inside out, but he didn’t seem capable of shedding any more tears. Now he felt as cold and empty as a discarded Ninjask shell. As cold and empty as Neo and Novo’s bodies now were.

Why?

Wes tried to remember. He racked his brain for answers. Why wasn’t he here, why did this happen, why wasn’t he the one who was dead…he wished he was the one who was dead. He was envious of the two brothers, who were now beyond pain and feeling. If anyone deserved to live, it was these two. Not him. Definitely not him.

He slumped forward on his hands and knees, digging his nails into the floor. He could…he could do just that. Die. Just curl up and wait for death. He wouldn’t have to be alone for much longer, and…if an afterlife did exist, then maybe, just maybe, they’d be there. Waiting for him. They’d be back beside him like they should be. Like they were always supposed to be.

A tiny flickering feeling nagged at the back of his mind. He thought of those waiting for his return, of Duking, Sherles, Marci, Secc, Silva. And…maybe even Rui.

…No. Rui was gone. And everyone else…they would be just fine without him. They would be able to move on, eventually. Wes was never supposed to be a permanent part of their lives, anyway. Not for any of them, not for anyone…save for Neo and Novo.

Wes closed his eyes. With them gone, what was the gods-damned point.

What about the rest of your team?

The tiny voice gave him pause. He opened his eyes again, stared at his hands, at his fingers that were now rubbed raw and bloody from digging at the floor. The rest of his team…they…they’d be fine, too. Eventually. Someone from the crew would take them in and look after them, surely. They would be safe.

They could all live a happy life without him. But Wes couldn’t live a happy life. Not anymore. Not without his family. His road ended here, in this lonely room, with Neo and Novo.

Slowly, painfully, his sore muscles shrieking at every movement, Wes turned back to the lifeless bodies. There was a time, once, when he thought he’d be consumed by rage and vengeance if anything had happened to them. But not now. He couldn’t even be sure who was responsible—he vaguely remembered the call of a…Skarmory? Why…why did that ring a bell? Why couldn’t he remember? Where…and why…and how…

It was all too foggy. A vague inkling told Wes that, somehow, Neo and Novo must have been trying to protect him. From what, or who…he didn’t know. Nor did he care. He could try to find them, hunt them down…but revenge wouldn’t bring them back. Revenge was pointless. Everything was pointless. Pointless and painful and tiring.

And Wes was so, so tired.

I’m…ready. Ready to be done.

He dragged himself back to his Pokémon, back beside them, back to the only place he had ever belonged in all his life. All he had to do was close his eyes and let time do the rest…

We do not regret.

The words—or rather, the nonverbal sentiment—came back into Wes’ mind with full force. Novo’s farewell, given on both his and Neo’s behalf. Wes froze, staring down at the Umbreon’s face, seeing the tiniest hint of a smile still visible on his muzzle.

Perhaps it was exhaustion. Or maybe grief had sapped his sanity. But Wes could have sworn he could feel them both in the room somehow, as if they were sitting and watching him with narrowed eyes from some hidden corner.

Don’t waste it.

Pain began seeping back in through the numb, listless haze in Wes’ head, and he flinched at the sensation. No. No, no, no, he didn’t want this. He didn’t want it.

He wanted the hollow nothingness. He wanted to be free of this agonizing grief. He didn’t want to keep going, couldn’t keep going, because that just meant more exhaustion, more effort, more loneliness, more pain—so much pain, the kind that would never fully heal because it meant living without Neo and Novo, it meant being alone—

We love you. We always will.

…Ah. The tears were back.

Wes felt them trickle down his cheeks and watched them land on Neo’s shoulder, then sink into his lavender fur. He rested a hand on the Espeon’s head.

“I. I don’t—” he choked. “I don’t want to. I can’t. I can’t.”

But you will. The tiny voice in his head was back. And even though he didn’t want to acknowledge it, even though it would take weeks and months and years for him to ever admit it…he knew it was right.

He managed a weak, shaky laugh and wiped his eyes. “S-screw you guys. Won’t let me take the easy way out even now, huh?” He gently rubbed Neo’s ear and laughed again, this time with a broken sob. “Assholes. B-both of you.”

His face fell, and he lowered his head to bury it in Neo’s fur. “I-I’m gonna t-try, okay?” He could barely speak through his hiccups and tears. “Will do my best. P-promise. But I reserve the right to quit at any d-damn time, got it? Don’t wanna hear it if I do.”

He sat up slowly, stroking both of their rumpled pelts. At the very least, he could return them to their balls, keep them with him until he could give them the burial they deserved. And after that…he would take it one step at a time. One day at a time. One foot in front of the other.

He stood, wiping his eyes and nose on his tattered sleeve. He stared at them a moment longer; were it not for the dried blood, it would have looked like they were sleeping, curled up beside each other. Peaceful. No sign of pain.

With a click that felt and sounded more like a gunshot in the quiet space, Wes recalled them, and they vanished in a beam of light. Gone.

Yet somehow, despite the fact that he could only hear his own hitched breaths in the silence, he didn’t feel alone.

He clutched Novo’s Pokéball tightly and squeezed his eyes shut, more tears spilling down his cheeks. He breathed in a sharp and shaky breath, then exhaled and opened his eyes again.

“You guys better have good stuff planned for me,” he croaked, “or I’ll revolt. I’ll…burn every piece of bacon I ever s-see.”

He managed a tiny, pained smile and shook his head. Gods, that sounded so stupid. Hard to be witty with an iron fist of grief clenched around your heart. But he tried. And…he would keep trying. At least for now.

He stumbled through the door and into a dark, foggy mist, reminding himself to breathe through the pain, and holding steadfast to a single word.

Always.