at the end of forever
Blackjack Gabbiani
Merely a collector
- Pronouns
- Them
- Partners
-
(this fic contains massive spoilers for SV, specifically Violet in this case, as well as off screen violence, major character death, and a little blood)
The Guardian's strike came suddenly. From my remote location at the Zero Lab, I could see Professor Turo rush towards the smaller Miraidon before the screen was consumed by the force of the attack.
By the time I reached the station via the teleporter, the two Miraidon had been returned to their pokéballs. The lab was in shambles, a ruin of itself. The power of that beast...was that the power the future held? Turo stood against the riser, arms locked and tight. I could tell from his posturing that he was putting his weight on them, relying on that rigid position to stand.
"Pr--" I began, but his ragged draw of a breath stayed me. Something was catastrophically wrong. "Professor..."
Another breath, gasping and choked, and he turned his head in my direction. His eyes were wide and panicked in a way that I had never witnessed. No, I realized, there was nothing in his memory that matched this degree of fear. "The Guardian...it..."
"I know. I witnessed the assault." He seemed as though he would collapse, so I prepared to intervene.
He turned towards me, slowly, staggeringly, shifting his weight with an atypical caution. "There is nothing that can be done." His breath came heavy, his chest heaved, and he pitched forward but I was there to catch him before he hit the ground.
Before anything else, I scanned his vital signs. He had imbued me with that ability though I had not expected to use it in such circumstances. "Your heart rate has increased to 122 bpm," I instinctively read aloud, "your pulse has--"
But he shook his head broadly, indicating I should stop. "I know. I know..." His breath was quick, shallow, and his hand tightly grasping mine was already cold and pale. "Hyper Beam...it struck me full on. I had to protect Miraidon, but..."
If he wouldn't speak it, neither would I. He was suffering severe blood loss, and was going into hemorrhagic shock. It was evident enough to us both that he would not survive.
His eyes were already glassy and distant, and the fear in them was fully visible from the constriction of his pupils. "My friend," he said with a waver to his thick voice, "don't let me die alone. S-stay by my side and keep me close..." His words were punctuated with a weak cough, forcing out a small amount of blood that flecked around his mouth and beard.
"Of course." I drew him to my chest, knowing he would find it comforting, and wiped away the blood with my fingers. It mirrored a gesture he often made, one he had passed along to me, where he would idly rub the area around his mouth for reasons even his memories did not reveal. He did not seem consciously aware that he would do so, so in that moment I wondered if he drew the same parallel I did.
His heart rate had risen, a futile attempt to keep his brain supplied with blood. I did not denote this to him. He rested his head, kept elevated in the crook of my arm, against my chest and sighed, jagged and seemingly in an unsuccessful attempt to control his rapid breathing. "Destruction is a part of life...I feel like I understand that better than most humans do..."
"You have long said that." The consequences of his goal, his paradise of present and future combined, would ultimately lead to mass destruction of the Paldean ecosystem. Something he believed would be worthwhile, something that would level out in time. Something we both seemed to simply accept. "But yet you're afraid."
Just for a moment, he smiled, pale and shaking lips curving up slightly. "I am. But why?" The smile faded. "W-why am I afraid of the inevitable? I always knew I would someday die." His pulse had slowed further.
"I can't answer that question any more than you can." I shook my head in the same manner he often did when confronted with a conundrum. "My end will be, by its very nature, far different. But I still in its own way fear it as well." My lifespan was always bound to far exceed that of my creator, even if he had lived a long life, but I was never designed to last forever.
He choked out a feeble laugh, something I could tell from the force of it was meant to be genuine. "It's silly to fear the future...I know it is. But confronted with it now..." Another uneven sigh, seeming to be for emphasis. "It wasn't supposed to happen. I thought I would have so much more time!"
Through the memories he had given me, I judged what action to take and settled on a gesture he had found comforting in years past, cupping his face in my free hand and stroking his cheek with my thumb. He smiled again, even fainter than before, but still perceptible. "You will, through me."
"I know. I know...but I won't be there, not me as I am..." His heart rate had slowed and was continuing to do so, and the paleness of his skin against my hand was uncomfortably distinct. "...never thought I'd take so much comfort in looking back at my own face. Tell me something, my friend...what do you feel right now?"
He was asking me of my emotions. He did not do so frequently. Most questions regarding myself were about my physical status, if I was capable of performing certain tasks or about my structural integrity. Only rarely did he ask about my emotions, about me as anything but a construct or a copy of himself. "What I feel is..."
His eyes were heavy lidded, his breathing had slowed considerably. He would soon fall unconscious, and after that, only death awaited.
"Sadness, helplessness...but also an odd sort of gratitude that you can live on."
"We really are two of a kind, aren't we?" He had entirely stopped struggling, seeming to have resigned himself to his fate.
"I will call Arven. I will tell him--"
But he shook his head. "No, it's better if he doesn't know."
It seemed an unusual thing to say. "Better? Humans rely on truths to make informed decisions."
"Yeah, but it's not always the best thing..." He sighed again, this time seeming to be out of reflex. "...humans are funny like that."
"I see. For all intents and purposes, I am you. But I am not in your situation."
"If you were," he murmured, and his voice was distant and soft, far more than it had been even a moment ago, "I think you'd understand."
I wondered what he was thinking, what fond memory he was relying on for comfort. I would never know for certain, but I envisioned that the birth of his son would be the most likely option.
His eyes fluttered shut, and would never open again. "If you do see him again, tell him the truth. But until then..."
The end was imminent. "Rest well, Professor."
He sighed a final time, and with the last of his voice, softly asked "Do you think I'll see Paradise?"
There was no way for me to answer that question with any truth, but he was well aware of that as well. Anything I said would have to suffice as merely my own words; my own, rather than his. So I spoke honestly. "I hope so."
No reply. He continued to breathe, shallowly, already so far removed from the rapidity of just a moment before, and I brushed my thumb down his cheek again in case he could still feel it.
It was on me to complete his project. Use the time machine to bring about his dream of merging present and future. Create his ideal of a world of scientific advancement, even at the cost of Paldea and the world.
It had made sense to him. Destruction was simply part of existence, he had said. Even in his dying words, he had repeated that sentiment.
Yet he had given his life to save another. Surely if destruction was so inherent, he would have simply let the Guardian kill Miraidon.
I doubt even he truly knew why he had intervened. Had he known that doing so would likely end his life? Would he have been so confident had he known, or would he have done so regardless? Likely it did not matter. His instinct had been to act, no matter the consequence.
So in thought was I that I did not at first notice that he was no longer breathing, that his heart had entirely stopped.
I remained where I was for an unspecified time, continuing to hold him out of a sense of affection that no longer applied, his head rested against my chest. I wondered if he had wished I had a heartbeat of my own, something his memory indicated he would have found comforting to hear. The very human ways they related to each other...the nature of life itself...
If this was the consequence of one death, what despair would Paldea, would the world, feel if his plan came to fruition? There was no rationality to it, no sense to a man who had given his life for another to see no issue in such destruction. And yet that was what he worked for, what he had devoted everything to, what he had abandoned his son and his friends and all the outside world for.
As I carried him from the building, into the dim light of the crystals he so adored, I wondered about the future. Not the distant future we studied, which had never seemed so far away before, but something more immediate.
I buried him beneath the metal plate nearby, the mysterious artifact that had been discovered by his scientific predecessors on their original expedition centuries before. Past and present and future...he would have appreciated the symbolism.
But all of that was the past. Only future could remain, whatever it would bring.
The Guardian's strike came suddenly. From my remote location at the Zero Lab, I could see Professor Turo rush towards the smaller Miraidon before the screen was consumed by the force of the attack.
By the time I reached the station via the teleporter, the two Miraidon had been returned to their pokéballs. The lab was in shambles, a ruin of itself. The power of that beast...was that the power the future held? Turo stood against the riser, arms locked and tight. I could tell from his posturing that he was putting his weight on them, relying on that rigid position to stand.
"Pr--" I began, but his ragged draw of a breath stayed me. Something was catastrophically wrong. "Professor..."
Another breath, gasping and choked, and he turned his head in my direction. His eyes were wide and panicked in a way that I had never witnessed. No, I realized, there was nothing in his memory that matched this degree of fear. "The Guardian...it..."
"I know. I witnessed the assault." He seemed as though he would collapse, so I prepared to intervene.
He turned towards me, slowly, staggeringly, shifting his weight with an atypical caution. "There is nothing that can be done." His breath came heavy, his chest heaved, and he pitched forward but I was there to catch him before he hit the ground.
Before anything else, I scanned his vital signs. He had imbued me with that ability though I had not expected to use it in such circumstances. "Your heart rate has increased to 122 bpm," I instinctively read aloud, "your pulse has--"
But he shook his head broadly, indicating I should stop. "I know. I know..." His breath was quick, shallow, and his hand tightly grasping mine was already cold and pale. "Hyper Beam...it struck me full on. I had to protect Miraidon, but..."
If he wouldn't speak it, neither would I. He was suffering severe blood loss, and was going into hemorrhagic shock. It was evident enough to us both that he would not survive.
His eyes were already glassy and distant, and the fear in them was fully visible from the constriction of his pupils. "My friend," he said with a waver to his thick voice, "don't let me die alone. S-stay by my side and keep me close..." His words were punctuated with a weak cough, forcing out a small amount of blood that flecked around his mouth and beard.
"Of course." I drew him to my chest, knowing he would find it comforting, and wiped away the blood with my fingers. It mirrored a gesture he often made, one he had passed along to me, where he would idly rub the area around his mouth for reasons even his memories did not reveal. He did not seem consciously aware that he would do so, so in that moment I wondered if he drew the same parallel I did.
His heart rate had risen, a futile attempt to keep his brain supplied with blood. I did not denote this to him. He rested his head, kept elevated in the crook of my arm, against my chest and sighed, jagged and seemingly in an unsuccessful attempt to control his rapid breathing. "Destruction is a part of life...I feel like I understand that better than most humans do..."
"You have long said that." The consequences of his goal, his paradise of present and future combined, would ultimately lead to mass destruction of the Paldean ecosystem. Something he believed would be worthwhile, something that would level out in time. Something we both seemed to simply accept. "But yet you're afraid."
Just for a moment, he smiled, pale and shaking lips curving up slightly. "I am. But why?" The smile faded. "W-why am I afraid of the inevitable? I always knew I would someday die." His pulse had slowed further.
"I can't answer that question any more than you can." I shook my head in the same manner he often did when confronted with a conundrum. "My end will be, by its very nature, far different. But I still in its own way fear it as well." My lifespan was always bound to far exceed that of my creator, even if he had lived a long life, but I was never designed to last forever.
He choked out a feeble laugh, something I could tell from the force of it was meant to be genuine. "It's silly to fear the future...I know it is. But confronted with it now..." Another uneven sigh, seeming to be for emphasis. "It wasn't supposed to happen. I thought I would have so much more time!"
Through the memories he had given me, I judged what action to take and settled on a gesture he had found comforting in years past, cupping his face in my free hand and stroking his cheek with my thumb. He smiled again, even fainter than before, but still perceptible. "You will, through me."
"I know. I know...but I won't be there, not me as I am..." His heart rate had slowed and was continuing to do so, and the paleness of his skin against my hand was uncomfortably distinct. "...never thought I'd take so much comfort in looking back at my own face. Tell me something, my friend...what do you feel right now?"
He was asking me of my emotions. He did not do so frequently. Most questions regarding myself were about my physical status, if I was capable of performing certain tasks or about my structural integrity. Only rarely did he ask about my emotions, about me as anything but a construct or a copy of himself. "What I feel is..."
His eyes were heavy lidded, his breathing had slowed considerably. He would soon fall unconscious, and after that, only death awaited.
"Sadness, helplessness...but also an odd sort of gratitude that you can live on."
"We really are two of a kind, aren't we?" He had entirely stopped struggling, seeming to have resigned himself to his fate.
"I will call Arven. I will tell him--"
But he shook his head. "No, it's better if he doesn't know."
It seemed an unusual thing to say. "Better? Humans rely on truths to make informed decisions."
"Yeah, but it's not always the best thing..." He sighed again, this time seeming to be out of reflex. "...humans are funny like that."
"I see. For all intents and purposes, I am you. But I am not in your situation."
"If you were," he murmured, and his voice was distant and soft, far more than it had been even a moment ago, "I think you'd understand."
I wondered what he was thinking, what fond memory he was relying on for comfort. I would never know for certain, but I envisioned that the birth of his son would be the most likely option.
His eyes fluttered shut, and would never open again. "If you do see him again, tell him the truth. But until then..."
The end was imminent. "Rest well, Professor."
He sighed a final time, and with the last of his voice, softly asked "Do you think I'll see Paradise?"
There was no way for me to answer that question with any truth, but he was well aware of that as well. Anything I said would have to suffice as merely my own words; my own, rather than his. So I spoke honestly. "I hope so."
No reply. He continued to breathe, shallowly, already so far removed from the rapidity of just a moment before, and I brushed my thumb down his cheek again in case he could still feel it.
It was on me to complete his project. Use the time machine to bring about his dream of merging present and future. Create his ideal of a world of scientific advancement, even at the cost of Paldea and the world.
It had made sense to him. Destruction was simply part of existence, he had said. Even in his dying words, he had repeated that sentiment.
Yet he had given his life to save another. Surely if destruction was so inherent, he would have simply let the Guardian kill Miraidon.
I doubt even he truly knew why he had intervened. Had he known that doing so would likely end his life? Would he have been so confident had he known, or would he have done so regardless? Likely it did not matter. His instinct had been to act, no matter the consequence.
So in thought was I that I did not at first notice that he was no longer breathing, that his heart had entirely stopped.
I remained where I was for an unspecified time, continuing to hold him out of a sense of affection that no longer applied, his head rested against my chest. I wondered if he had wished I had a heartbeat of my own, something his memory indicated he would have found comforting to hear. The very human ways they related to each other...the nature of life itself...
If this was the consequence of one death, what despair would Paldea, would the world, feel if his plan came to fruition? There was no rationality to it, no sense to a man who had given his life for another to see no issue in such destruction. And yet that was what he worked for, what he had devoted everything to, what he had abandoned his son and his friends and all the outside world for.
As I carried him from the building, into the dim light of the crystals he so adored, I wondered about the future. Not the distant future we studied, which had never seemed so far away before, but something more immediate.
I buried him beneath the metal plate nearby, the mysterious artifact that had been discovered by his scientific predecessors on their original expedition centuries before. Past and present and future...he would have appreciated the symbolism.
But all of that was the past. Only future could remain, whatever it would bring.