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Fugu suddenly kicked the desk into the wall and pulled a sword out of her arm and Jesus fuck. He jumped at the deep, ringing clang of the blade, felt the thick pulse of adrenaline shooting through him as his body prepared for a battle. Honestly at this point he couldn't complain, could he...

"I don't even fucking know. What's that got to do with anything?" Shadow stared at Fugu, ears flat. Why the fuck was he even here if he was just going to be standing there? It wasn't like she could even see him, for fuck's sake.

"I mean, like I said, that wasn't exactly a great time for anyone. Multiple apocalypses going on." Shadow's eyes bored into him. "Sure, I was drinking a lot at the time. Frankly I'm surprised anyone wasn't."

Chapter fourteen! Emerged as kind of a sudden unexpected favorite for me when I reread the whole fic to comment on it after I finished it, despite featuring a bunch of absolute nonsense. Chapter 14: Thief and Victim Mark woke up feeling very refreshed. He scanned through his memory, but...

He blinked. "Wasted. Drunk. I'd just had a few beers at the cells with Soda. Basically half-asleep by that point too. Point is, I figured whatever, I'd agree to go to therapy if they'd leave me alone and let me sleep. That's about the size of it."

"Look, I don't even know at this point. Brisa insisted, and so did Mia, and I was too wasted to argue at the time. Mia somehow got it into her head that I've got some kind of brain damage." There was a soft whine somewhere beside him. Shadow looked up at him with a pointed stare. "This was all...

So far the 'therapy session' was... fine. Not very exciting. Reminded him more of a cross between a job interview and a magazine fluff piece than anything else. Who are you? What do you do? What are your hobbies? What unique qualities would you bring to Hot Cocoa Therapy Offices? And then a bit...

"Uh, okay." How seriously exactly did she expect him to take this, here? She'd be waiting a long time if she wanted him to not think this was kind of dumb. If Fugu kicked him out for not taking it seriously enough, did that count, or would Brisa just insist he had to see fucking Wheat or Bean...

Dave gave the barest acknowledging nod towards Bean. From what he'd heard Bean was the closest thing Cibus had to the regular human sort of therapist, which was only more unsettling given he was actually an omnipresent emotional void working for a superdeity organization. Something about Fugu's...

Dave stepped through the door to the therapy offices, looking critically around. The Kommo-o receptionist from last time was there manning the front desk, again. Owen'd tried to persuade him he should see Wheat, the Xatu. Waxed at length about how much he'd helped him. And also said that he'd...

"Cool. Enjoy your meal." Dave pushed away his empty glass and stood up from the table. Danithan was still kind of a weirdo, but ultimately he'd had worse company, he supposed. "Good luck with your Riolu kid." He left the Cauldron with a pleasant sense of lazy non-urgency. Just nothing at all...

"Usually not this long. Is that it over there?" Dave eyed a waiter carrying a sandwich out of the kitchen.

Dave raised an eyebrow. "Well, if I remember all this one day, the rational explanation would be it was some kind of trippy dream, not that I was actually abducted to another goddamn planet and turned into a dog and then conveniently forgot all about it until decades later. Occam's razor. I'd be...

Dave idly swirled his empty glass on the table. "Yeah. We're all such fucking heroes we won't remember any of the heroing we did. Ultimately all this just means fuck-all."

"Oh, Jesus. A fucking ten-year-old? Christ." He downed the rest of the glass with a shudder. "Would say it's good they got sent back, but actually, sending the abused ten-year-old back where he came from isn't exactly fantastic either. Did it occur to nobody to try to do something about it?"

"Well, Diyem sure sent some actual kids on our dangerous mission. How about yours? Any reckless kid endangerment on the Miracle Matters side?" Dave took a chug of his drink, watching Danithan. At least the guy had some vague sense of responsibility.

Dave narrowed his eyes at him. "If you think the missions might fuck with his head more, why bring him? Taking kids on dangerous 'missions' is pretty questionable even when their brain isn't shot to hell and back."

Dave felt his hackles rising. Fuck. Somebody took a human kid and just... pulled a Soda on him. "Jesus Christ. That's fucked up. They manage to help him?"

Oh, Jesus. "So... there's some kind of underground slave trade with sapient Pokémon disguised as ferals going on?"

"Huh." Dave sipped his drink, thinking. "Regular Pokémon aren't universally aggressive in my world. Just sort of... you know, they want to battle all the time, you need to take your pets out and battle them a little now and again or they'll start pissing all over your floors, but only particular...