Pokémon Beasts Like Us

[NebulaDreams]

Summary:

Glen, an unevolved Machoke and a driver for a Pokemon-run removal company, wants to adopt a Machop to fill the void in his life. The only problem? In order for Glen to officially take him in, he’ll have to introduce him to his boyfriend… who just happens to be human.

Author’s Note:

So, right off the bat, yes, this is a Pokemon x human story. I had avoided writing about it up until now because it’s not my cup of tea despite writing other stories featuring interspecies relationships, and I didn’t know if I could pull it off within this Pokemon world I've built. However, the more I explored the issue with one of my side characters, the more I just needed to write it out because it tapped into a lot of personal themes.

If this is not for you, that’s totally fine. But I want people to approach the story on its own terms, especially as it poses difficult questions that don’t come with easy answers.

This will be a three-parter fic where the next two chapters will be staggered out among the next couple of weeks. You may recognise Glen as the driver that cameos in Gathering Moss. This has no bearing on this story; it’s just a nice treat for those who have read that one-shot.

With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy reading.

Content warnings: Smoking, drinking, swearing, intimacy, body dysphoria, internalised homophobia, ethical discussions of interspecies relationships. Rated Teen.

Disclaimer: The Pokemon-human relationship passes the harkness test as the protagonist is a sapient talking Pokemon (in a world where sapient Pokemon are not uncommon), and is depicted as an equal partnership between two consenting adults.

---

Beasts Like Us

Part 1: A Machoke Takes A Cigarette Break​

I’m on my tenth Sandy Numel today. The cigarette smoke seeps in and out of my chest, carrying my worries through the autumn air. Those other Machoke and Machamp can handle the job on their own, and it’s above my paygrade, so I can get away with sneaking behind the van. Besides, it gives me an excuse to check my phone.

Barry’s working overtime, so he’ll be coming home late. That’s fine. It’s just that I’ve been waiting all day for that daycare centre to ring back, but it’s 4PM and there are still no new messages. What the hell is taking them so long? I’m about to text them when the Machamp, Hammer, sneaks up and slaps my back, and I nearly swallow my cigarette.

“Fucking hell,” I snap. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“Better a heart attack than whatever that thing is. It’ll stunt your growth, Glen.”

I blink and take another drag. I don’t think he realises how much that growth comment hurts, whether he meant it or not. “What’d you need me for anyway?”

Hammer leads me to the view of the spacious limestone house we’re moving stuff into. Not a whole lot of moving is going on as two of the delivery Machoke stand around the front garden with their arms crossed; right beside them is a varnished table set on a manicured lawn. Hammer then points to our human client chewing out Rip, one of our top crew members.

“That human’s being a right pain in the rear,” Hammer grumbles.

I sigh and stamp my smoke into the dirt with the tip of my boot. Of course I’m the only Pokemon in the team that can deal with crap like this. I charge into the fray where the middle-aged human with a face the colour of an undercooked Magikarp fillet wags his finger at Rip.

“How could you even think about moving the desk with those ham fists of yours? It’s mahogany! Ma-ho-ga-ny! Do you even know how valuable it is?”

Rip throws up his hands as if he’s being mugged by a Scrafty.

“What’s going on?” I say in human tongue.

“Oh, he talks!” The human fans the air. “Tell these goons to be careful with my stuff!”

“Goons, my butt,” Rip scoffs as he walks off. That’s my cue to step in.

“Sir,” I start, “I’ve been with this team for five years. We wouldn’t be hiring Pokémon if we didn’t think they’re capable of leaving everything in one piece.”

“One piece? Have you seen the way they pick stuff up?” He lifts a wooden chair from the porch as if he’s about to throw it through the window. “Like this?”

I pinch the bridge of my snout. “You wanted the Mach N’ Van to help you today, didn’t you?”

“Wasn’t my bloody idea to hire Pokémon to do the heavy lifting! Blame my wife for that!”

He’s seriously bringing his partner into this. I think of how Barry would feel if I ever talked about him that way, and heat rises in my chest.

“You know…” I lower my voice and step within slapping distance of the human. Even though I’m the same height as he is, he’s already shrinking up. “If that’s how you act around everyone, I’d be embarrassed to be your wife.”

He’ll either fly off the handle and call off the job, or back down and let us do our damn work. Thank Arceus he steps back.

“Now, sir,” I continue, “if you let the crew do their work, we’ll be out of your hair for good. We’ll take extra care of your valuables. Alright?”

All the colour drains from the human’s puffed-up face. “Right. Fine. Just do it.”

“Thanks, sir.”

I bite down the urge to light another cigarette as Hammer beckons our crew to the front garden.

“Well, guys, we can go ahead now, thanks to Glen.” I squirm as Hammer pats my back again. “Take that as a learning experience. I’ve dealt with trainers like that all the time, especially ones in the league that thought they were better just because they had psychics or whatever…”

My hand drifts to my pocket as he speaks about the good old days. I’m not going to start lighting up in front of the crew, but Hammer just makes it too tempting sometimes.

“All this to say that you shouldn’t let anyone get to your head, whether they’re humans or Pokemon,” Hammer concludes.

“Do we have to help that human out?” Rip whines.

“Just do your job. All of you, including you, Mister Puff Puff.” Hammer grins at me with those big lips of his. “The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

I’m not going to kick up a fuss as it’s the last job of the day and everyone wants to go home already. Mostly me. I’ll focus on the smaller but more fragile objects like the ornaments and vases as it strains my back the least. I take it one step at a time as I go up the front steps into the house, then into the living room where I’ll drop off the rest of the possessions.

Even without the furnishing, this lounge reeks of luxury, from the gilded window three times my size to the fireplace with a housewarming present in the hearth. I’d never be able to afford this in my lifetime, not that I want it. What would I do with all that space?

I go back and forth between the van and the house, mostly keeping to myself while the others move beds and chairs and whatnot into different rooms, until there’s one box left. I follow after two Machoke who carry that oh so precious mahogany table into the living room. I’m about to add my box to the pile when the two stop to glare at me with questioning red eyes.

The moment lasts two seconds before they leave, but their look says everything. They know I’m weak. It doesn’t matter that I’m probably twice as old as them. You don’t get through life as an unevolved Machoke without sensing when someone’s looking down on you.

I take deep breaths, just like Barry taught me. It’s fine. This job’s just a stopgap for them, just another way for them to build their muscles before they go back to their trainers. This is how I make my living. That’s what I have to hang onto.

It takes a few moments for me to pull myself together and return to the van, and even when I’m behind the wheel, I still feel rattled. I just want to smoke and play some of my tunes, but that’ll piss off the crew even more, so I drive in silence as I try to navigate Circhester’s outskirts.

I feel uneasy the whole ride back, especially with all the winding country roads and Sunday drivers cutting me off or forgetting to indicate. Some say Pokémon can’t drive, but I could probably afford a new car if all the bad human drivers in Galar donated 100 Pokedollars each. After all that stopping and starting and an annoyingly steep stretch uphill, I finally reach the Mach n’ Van base.

Before I even get the chance to stop the van, everyone in the back unbuckles their seatbelts and steps out.

“Hey, that’s danger–”

Forget it. The Machoke are already running off into the fields, burning the energy they’ve held in throughout the drive. At least Hammer has the sense to keep himself buckled while I park onto the driveway.

“I’m gonna run them over one of these days if they keep doing that,” I say.

“Don’t sweat it,” Hammer says. “It’ll take more than that to do them in.”

“Whatever.” I sigh. I finally have the chance to pull out another cigarette. “Could you give me some space?”

“Sure, Mister Puff Puff.” Hammer pats my back again before he steps out of the van. I wish he’d stop doing that; I’m not some Machop. But whatever. Hammer’s got his own business to deal with anyway as he heads towards the house overlooking the vast field dotted with fighting types. This is the home base where the humans managing the company live. I’ve got to talk to them to collect my pay, but for now, I need my fix.

I almost take out my lighter when my phone buzzes.

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter. I’ll go feral if it’s another scam caller. My tune changes completely when I see it’s from the daycare centre and I answer right away.

“Glen speaking,” I say.

“Glen… Oh, the Machoke?” the human caretaker chirps. “You don’t sound like a Machoke over the phone!”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Um, you know, your voice, it’s…” She clears her throat. “Anyway, Dex is happy to spend a day with you to see how things go.”

I almost drop my cigarette. “When can he come over?”

“Any time! Just tell us what date works best for you!”

I pause. It would be nice to spend the weekend with him so I don’t have to work, but Dex wants to see what it’s like, so I’m not opposed to him tagging along. He’ll either like it or think it sucks. Besides, I want to ease him in before he meets Barry.

“Tomorrow’s fine.”

“So soon, huh? That should work. It’ll be nice to see you then!”

I hum a reply and hang up. Something bubbles in my chest like I’ve chugged too much Pekkochu. So this is happening. I’m adopting a Machop, maybe. The kid’s got to decide whether or not he wants to stay with us still, but it’s a start.

I can’t wait to tell Barry, but I’ve got errands to run. I grab my cash from the manager, ten-thousand Pokedollars, though I don’t stay for any chit-chat. I should at least let Hammer know about tomorrow’s plans. He’s in the annex’s kitchen chopping up veggies. Even as a Machoke, I feel wary being around a four-armed fighting type wielding a knife.

“You off?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’d like to bring a Machop along tomorrow if that’s cool. He wants some work experience.”

“Sure, I’ve got no problems with that. I’d always like an extra hand on deck.” He hums. “How’d you meet him anyhow?”

“Oh, I just know him from somewhere.”

His eyes narrow. “Somewhere?”

I breathe through my nose. How do I tell him about the daycare business without him asking a whole bunch of other questions?

“Forget it. I know you like to keep things hush hush.”

“It’s not that,” I snap. How would he understand? “It’s–” I sigh–”just whatever happens, cut him some slack. He’s just lost his parents in the wild.”

I can see the gears turning in Hammer’s head. He lowers his eyes and turns back, bell pepper in hand. “Got it. I’ll see you both tomorrow, I guess, unless you wanna stay for dinner. It's the crew’s favourite: paella.”

My gut twists. Some grub wouldn’t hurt. It’ll be a couple of hours before Barry gets home from work anyway.

I stare out the kitchen window where the Machoke play fight in the front garden. Some buried part of me still itches for the fight, that feeling of skin on skin, blow to blow, even if I won’t be any match for them. But I know I don’t belong there with them. None of them get what it feels like to be around other Machoke, like I’m some Mimikyu playing dress-up as one.

“I’m good,” I finally say. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

“As mysterious as ever. Suit yourself.” Hammer shrugs and continues performing his kitchen duties. Whatever, nothing more needs to be said, so I’m out.

I leave the van behind as that belongs to the company. I’ve got my own ride, a Rhyhorn V82. As soon as I sit behind the wheel, I feel right at home. I hold up my lighter, inspecting the cartoony Machoke engraved on the silver case. I’m so glad Barry got it for me as a present. To think I never celebrated birthdays before he came into my life. All the stress in my body ebbs away as soon as I light another one up. Sweet release.

What’s even sweeter is that I can finally play the rest of that new Torterror album, Cursed Earth. I bob my head to the blast beats as I drive down to central Circhester. This album’s even better than their last one, from the performances to those singer’s screams. It makes trying to find a place to park in Circhester’s streets a lot more bearable, as my flat’s nestled right in the city centre in all its foot-stomping, binge-drinking, Pokemon-crying, horn-blaring glory, tucked above a phone shop.

Even though I’ve lived at this place for a couple of years, people still turn their heads at a Machoke parking their car near here. Thank Arceus nobody stops me, though I still look over my shoulder as I unlock the front door to my place.

As expected, Barry isn’t in yet. The flat always looks so sad without him as his game controllers and vinyl records are dotted around odd parts of the living room, going unused. There’s only a little light filtering in from our tiny window, and all it leads to is the view of loud humans on their pub crawls. There are little patches of mold in the corner as well. That’s something we have to sort out between ourselves, but for now, I kick off my boots and collapse on the settee.

I zone out to Natuflix while I wait for Barry to come back from work. Last Strongman Standing is a good way to kill time, especially so I can admire the muscles on display with those big, burly humans pulling lorries and whatnot.

They have a version of this with fighting-type Pokémon, naturally. There is a novelty to a Machamp breaking a wall with their pinkies, sure, but humans have to work twice as hard to gain their strength. That’s a hell of a lot more admirable than being born with it. I love Bronson Brown in particular, just my type, big, chunky, like Barry, but with more muscle than fat. I can’t ever imagine Barry carrying those marble balls around like they do in the show.

I don’t know how long I get lost in the show for, but the front door opens and I pause the TV. It’s Barry. I don’t even give him a chance to take his coat off before I run up and pull him into a tackle hug.

I press my snout against his neck, nuzzling his skin, savouring his touch. He’s so warm. His tender hands snake along my back as we exchange kisses, nails lightly massaging me through my shirt. I pull back to get a good look at his face. I love everything about it from his mane of hair to his beard, brown with flecks of silver and gold, to that bulbous, pierced nose of his, which makes him look like a prized Tauros. My prized Tauros.

Barry tries to pull me in for another kiss when our noses collide. It actually hurts, especially with that ring.

“Oh shit, sorry!” Barry says in between chuckles. “Are you alright?”

I massage the end of my snout. “I’ve taken worse hits.”

“I can believe it.” He pulls me in again, carefully this time as he tilts his head to kiss me. Much better. I peck him back; he tastes like bubblegum, a taste I’ve gotten used to ever since he started vaping. We plop down on the settee, and I let the big lug scoop me in his arms like a Meowth.

We just stay in each other’s embrace, long enough that the TV’s screensaver turns on, giving us a postcard view of rural Motostoke. We don’t say anything, but neither of us need to. I don’t want the moment to end, yet I’m itching to tell Barry about our plans.

“How was work?” I ask.

“It’s whatever.” His eyes glaze over as they usually do whenever he talks about his day. “It’s report season, so you know how it is.”

I still don’t know what his charity does exactly, something about Pokemon trainer support programmes, but Barry’s been having panic attacks ever since he got promoted. It sucks that all I can do is give him moral support.

“You… managing fine?”

“Yeah, I got everything done that I needed to.” He huffs. “Though my boss asked me to print off a bunch of stuff that nobody’s gonna read for some trustee meeting. It’s not even my job, y’know.”

“Isn’t this the same guy who doesn’t know how to take a screenshot or whatever the hell it’s supposed to be?”

“Uh huh.” He sighs. “Whatever. I got to listen to that Torterror album while I was on my laptop.”

“It’s cool stuff, huh?”

“Hell yeah. Can’t wait to see them live.”

I smooch him again. It’s been ages since our last gig, so that’s something to look forward to at the end of this month.

“Do you wanna tell me how work went today?” Barry asks, as if my response to that question ever changes. At least I have a good excuse to dance around the topic this time.

“The daycare called. Dex is coming around tomorrow.”

“Oh shit.” Barry releases his grip and blinks. “That’s… really soon.”

“He’s only coming here in the evening since I’m taking him to work. But I’d thought I’d warn you.”

“Okay.” Barry tugs at his beard hairs. “I guess I’ll try to cook something extra nice this time.”

“If you’re up for it. I want Dex to feel at home as much as he can.”

“Of course.”

The silence lasts long enough that the TV goes into sleep mode.

“I hope he likes me,” Barry says at last, chuckling. “As much as he could like a human dad.”

His words don’t match up with his casual tone.

“We talked about this,” I huff. “There’s no way of knowing how he’ll feel about it. Or how anyone would.”

Barry hums. He carries on pulling his beard until a whole clump of stubble lands in his palm. I try to stop him by taking his hand in mine, tracing my coarse, blistered fingers along his smooth skin. He digs his nails into my calloused palm.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I let the moment sit for a bit. “Look, I really want this. I want to bring a Machop into our world and give him the chances I never got. We could get him lessons if he wanted. Even if he gets saddled with a trainer or ends up working for some moving company, he’d still have something to come back to, y’know. We could really make this his own space too. He’d have his toys or his Nintendos or his punching bags or whatever.”

Barry hums in affirmation. “Yeah,”

“But…” I take a deep breath. “There’s still a chance to call it off. I’d rather not go into this if you’re having second thoughts.”

“No, it’s not that.” Barry tucks his hands in his lap, sitting upright. “I’d like to be a dad, y’know, staying home and all that. I think it’d be better for me, honestly, rather than being in the office.” He smirks. “I can’t imagine it’ll be much different from raising a little human.”

We discussed adopting a human before, but there’s no way in hell that would happen between us. It would be easy to keep some wild, animal-like Pokemon as a pet, but comparing that to this situation is like comparing orans to nanabs.

“There’ll be some differences. Machop are a lot more full of piss and vinegar than the average kid.”

“Like a mini version of you?”

“Kinda.”

“Then I’m in.” Barry relaxes his shoulders. “I’d love a little Dex running around the flat.”

“You might be eating your words when he gets here.” I pull him to my side. “I must’ve told you what happened with my old trainer.”

Barry leans into me. “Remind me.”

“We were rough-housing once and I punched him so hard in the stomach that he got sent to the hospital.”

“Wow, that’ll teach me not to piss you off.”

“It was an accident, of course.”

“Still!”

I smirk and pat his stomach. “Don’t worry, I like your belly too much to punch it.”

He giggles, not a nervous one this time, and warmth rushes through me. It makes me realise how much I’ve missed him today. I bet he’s needed this after his soul-sucking job too.

“So, what now?” I ask.

“Dinner would be good.” Barry groans. “Argh, I forgot to pop to the shops today. I’ll see what we have in the fridge if that’s fine, unless you want me to go into town right now.”

I suppress a sigh. Some milk would’ve been nice for a morning coffee tomorrow, but as far as Barry’s cooking goes, he could make wilted salad leaves taste like fine dining.

“That’s fine. Just pick some stuff up before Dex gets here.”

“What about tonight?”

I shrug. “I’ve got no reason to doubt your cooking skills.”

“I could do a curry.”

“Awesome, I could definitely murder a curry.”

“Okay!” Barry kisses my hand. “I’ll get started, then.”

I watch the rest of my show as Barry whips something up. His curry’s bulked up with beef and leftover Pumkin chunks. I’m so lucky to share this with Barry. Hell, I’m lucky to share a lot of things with him, from the shows I like watching to those games of his I try to pick up, even if I’ve snapped more controllers than I can count.

As night creeps in and we settle down, I look at Barry, wrapped up in my arms, snoozing like a Snorlax. He’s asleep before I am since it takes a while for me to calm down from the day. It doesn’t help that I’ve got a lot to think about at the moment.

No matter how many times we discuss it, prepare for it, the reality is that we’re in a human-Pokemon relationship. Everyone with a pulse knows it’s deviant; we know that more than anyone. Despite all that, we’re not going to hide our relationship from the Machop. That wouldn’t be fair to him even if, ideally, it doesn’t change a thing between us. Ultimately, he has to choose whether or not he wants to stay.

It’s a little risky, a bit risky, even. He can’t speak human yet, but word can still get out from Pokémon in other ways. If the daycare finds out about it and reports us, both of our jobs could be in jeopardy.

Barry’s snores stop me in my tracks. That would annoy most people, but I’m not most people. I love his snoring. It shows that Barry’s this real, actual thing that’s lying beside me. He’s the only person on this big blue ball that sees me like I see myself. Not like a Machoke. Like a human.

I want the whole world to know what that feels like. I want Dex to know it too. I think of what our ideal day out would be like, maybe after a long week of tutoring Dex or working together at the Mach n’ Van.

We’d go to the park where Dex’ll be able to fight other Pokemon while me and Barry watch, not doing anything, not even touching shoulders, but just glad to be in the moment. Lunch doesn’t have to be fancy as it could just be a meal deal, but Barry’s dinner would make up for that, whatever he does. We’d either watch a film, play some games, whether that’s on a tabletop or a screen, or even noodle around with Barry’s instruments together.

I have to keep that feeling close to me, no matter what tomorrow brings.

 

[canisaries]

Hi Neb! Here to read and review this, as I wouldn't miss a new Nebfic for the world. The first chapter's all that's out so far, so that's what I looked at.

I’m on my tenth Sandy Numel today.

Ah, first person, that surprised me. So used to third person from you. This isn't any kind of criticism (would be very stupid to criticize someone for using a certain person POV in general), just an observation.

I blink and take another drag. I don’t think he realises how much that growth comment hurts, whether he meant it or not. “What’d you need me for anyway?”

ooh he's upset about not being able to evolve I'm guessing?

The moment lasts two seconds before they leave, but their look says everything. They know I’m weak. It doesn’t matter that I’m probably twice as old as them. You don’t get through life as an unevolved Machoke without sensing when someone’s looking down on you.

ding ding ding! interested to see what you'll do with this

I charge into the fray where the middle-aged human with a face the colour of an undercooked Magikarp fillet wags his finger at Rip.

This has the makings of a great line, but there's a bit of a problem - some fish have red and others have white flesh, and Magikarp is a fantasy fish, so it's not entirely obvious which one it would be. I did look up carp flesh, and that seems to be red, but I doubt a lot of people know for certain what real life carp flesh is colored like, either. Or maybe they do - I don't actually know how popular carp fillets are outside my country. On my part, though, had to kind of guess.

Rip throws up his hands as if he’s being mugged by a Scrafty.

wowww glen wowww

It takes a few moments for me to pull myself together and return to the van, and even when I’m behind the wheel, I still feel rattled. I just want to smoke and play some of my tunes, but that’ll piss off the crew even more, so I drive in silence as I try to navigate Circhester’s outskirts.

why in the hell am i thinking of drive (2011) and sigma ryan gosling memes now.

I don’t know how long I get lost in the show for, but the front door opens and I pause the TV. It’s Barry. I don’t even give him a chance to take his coat off before I run up and pull him into a tackle hug.

I press my snout against his neck, nuzzling his skin, savouring his touch. He’s so warm. His tender hands snake along my back as we exchange kisses, nails lightly massaging me through my shirt. I pull back to get a good look at his face. I love everything about it from his mane of hair to his beard, brown with flecks of silver and gold, to that bulbous, pierced nose of his, which makes him look like a prized Tauros. My prized Tauros.

omg they wuv each other 🥺

I peck him back; he tastes like bubblegum, a taste I’ve gotten used to ever since he started vaping.

im actually so cooked like i cannot read the word "vaping" and not laugh after my friend circle has memed the practice to shit

Barry hums in affirmation. “Yeah,”

Missing dialogue tag? Or comma slipped in in place of period?

We’d go to the park where Dex’ll be able to fight other Pokemon while me and Barry watch, not doing anything, not even touching shoulders, but just glad to be in the moment.

they have to hide it in public 😔

---

It's a good first chapter! We're introduced to Glen, his living situation, his colleagues, his boyfriend and his aspirations. I think this chapter also works as a clear introduction to your version of Galar, where Pokémon (at least certain species?) are as intelligent as humans, can learn to speak their language and hold jobs just like humans. It would be very odd for someone to read this and still consider the Pokemon x human angle problematic for any other reason than "I personally don't like it".

Will definitely catch the later chapters when they come! Until then, good luck with writing, and see you around.

 

[NebulaDreams]

Part 2: A Machop Eats A Sandwich​

I sneak in three cigarettes before I reach Fairweather Daycare. The layout’s not too dissimilar from the Mach n’ Van base as there’s a large building overlooking a field where Pokemon can roam, though the daycare part resembles more of a school than a house as it’s all blocky stone and concrete. I can’t see Dex in the scuffle of Pokemon playing in the grass, though from what I’ve gathered, he prefers staying indoors.

I take a deep breath. This day could go many different ways, especially once he meets Barry. Am I ready for this? I don’t even know if I’d be a good replacement dad. My hand reaches for my pocket, and I almost light up when I catch the reflection of the booster seat strapped in the back.

We bought that thing just for today; second-hand, but still, it’s proof we’ve made a commitment. Dex wouldn’t want to be stuck in my car all day with smoke clinging everywhere. So I think of our future day out again as I stuff the pack of Numels in the glovebox, and head out.

I’m still surprised by how colourful the daycare’s insides are. The walls are candy-coloured slabs of red and blue, where murals of big, four-legged Pokemon chase each other along the plaster. I’d be fooled into thinking this was a play park for humans if it wasn’t for the humanoid Pokemon wrestling each other in an area covered with padded mats.

“You hit like a girl,” a Tyrogue yells while he’s hanging upside down.

“I am a girl, moron!” a Pancham yells back as she’s about to suplex the kid.

The rest don’t stop them, in fact, they’re egging them on. There’s no sign of Dex anywhere.

My pocket’s screaming for attention. I shouldn’t feel uncomfortable here already. This is normal. This is what fighting types do. They fight. We did this for fun back home. But even some run of the mill rough-housing feels so alien to me now.

I don’t have long to dwell on it as the Tyrogue’s feet slip from the Pancham’s grasp, and his head thunks against the floor.

I wince. That foam sure didn’t protect him from the fall. Blimey, the Tyrogue’s in tears now, and so’s the Pancham. The human caretaker, Maisie, pops out of the other room with an Arcanine following after her. She’s about to dash into the scuffle when she spots me.

“Shoot,” she mutters. “S’more, could you deal with this, please?”

The Arcanine rolls his eyes and breaks up the group of Pokemon. Maisie approaches me with an outstretched hand.

“Hey, Glen!” Maisie greets, smiling even with puffy eyes, “you chose a good time to stop by.”

I stare down for a moment. I’m always wary whenever I go for a handshake, since some humans aren’t aware of my strength, but I’ve done this enough times to handle a simple greeting.

“Don’t sweat it.” I extend mine to her, but I let her shake it. “I bet this is what you have to deal with on a daily basis anyway.”

“Yeah. It’s never a dull day for us.” She laughs, though it’s a little strained. “Are you just here to take Dex?”

“Uh huh.”

“Then follow me to the gym.”

She walks me through the daycare to a lounge area where two Pokemon, a Hitmontop and Gothita, playing a fighting game on a TV. I recognise the characters: one’s a half-human, half-Purrloin, the other’s a bipedal Luxray, both throwing special moves at each other.

“They’re still making PokeMorphs games?” I ask.

“Huh? Oh, that. I guess so!”

She lets out another strained laugh. Figures she wouldn’t know what I’m talking about. Maybe Barry’s nerdiness is rubbing off on me.

Next, we tiptoe through a soft room where Pokémon sleep on beanbags and cushions. The ones that are just chilling throw me a few odd looks. I’m used to it, especially going around in my clothes.

Maisie leads me outside the exercise room, but stops just before we turn the corner.

“So, Glen, are you ready for Dex’s big day out?”

“Of course.”

“Good, he’s been looking forward to seeing you.” Her cheery expression fades as she looks me up and down.

“Something the matter?”

“No, no, it’s–” she sighs. “Never mind. I know he’s in good hands. Just wish there was more I could do to help.”

A daycare’s a stopgap for trainers to drop off their Pokémon, not a home. That’s the whole reason I’m here. Before I can think of some way to reassure her, that Arcanine rushes in, his coat all unkempt.

“First aid!” he says in his own tongue. From the drop in Maisie’s posture, she knows exactly what he meant.

“Nuts,” she says. “Glen, go in there without me.”

Maisie rushes off, leaving me with my own thoughts.

This daycare isn’t a terrible place for Pokemon, but Dex probably doesn’t know anybody here since daycare Pokemon don’t linger for long, except the rentals. If Dex runs out of options, then he’ll probably need to become a rental Pokemon too.

The world doesn’t make it easy for Pokemon to live without a trainer. It took me ages to find my place in it, and I had to figure out what that was on my own. I’m not gonna put Dex through what I went through.

There’s all sorts of equipment dotted around the gym’s floor: punching bags, weights, even a couple of treadmills, and Dex is pounding a training dummy right in the middle of the room. He doesn’t notice me as I step inside, though I’m just curious to watch his moves. I don’t know what that dummy did to hurt him but the little Machop’s just whaling on it. He only stops when the dummy falls flat on its back, thudding against the linoleum, and Dex has to take a few deep breaths, buckling to his knees.

I wait for him to catch his breath, but he keeps panting, past the point that I can chalk it up to tiring himself out.

“Hey,” I call, stepping in.

Dex turns. His eyes look redder than a Machop’s usually should. Words fail me, so I sit with him, giving Dex as long as he needs to get back up to speed. Work can wait.

He falls back to steady breaths and stands back up, at eye level with me. He seems calm, though his body’s still tense, like whatever’s bothering him has its claws hooked deep into his spine. Then he bounces on his feet, raising his fists.

I back away, worried he’s about to give me a knuckle sandwich until he flashes a smile, still in his battle stance. Maybe the kid just wants to playfight. I know Dex’ll feel better for it, even if I’m not rushing to school a Machop, so I hold my hands out like a boxing coach. Dex responds with one punch, then a one-two punch. One, one-two, one, one-two. Then he stops and nurses his hands.

“I was tryin’ to say hi,” he finally says.

Now I get it. That’s the greeting we used in our dwelling: one punch was what they used to start a conversation, and a one-two punch meant ‘hello’. It’s a way for us fighting types to talk without words, something I forgot long ago.

“Sh–” I trail off–“oot. Sorry, kid.”

“It’s okay.” Dex glares outside the gym. “Nobody here knows anyway.”

“But I can learn. Or relearn.” I shrug. “So how’s it going?”

“Okay, I guess. Just bored. I don’t like it here.”

“They’re treating you alright?”

“Yeah, but… I dunno. Everyone’s so loud here.”

“Well, we’ve got a full day today.” I offer a hand. “We’ll start out at the Mach n’Van, and you can see what it’s like working there. You’ll see plenty of Circhester in between.” I pause, figuring out how to introduce him to Barry. “Then we’ll have dinner at my place. Anything you fancy?”

Dex’s eyes gleam. “Anythin’?”

“Yeah. I dunno, did they do any cooking in your dwelling?”

He glares at me. “How else would we eat stuff?”

Another faux pas. Man, I am out of my depth here.

“Bunnelby stew,” Dex continues. “My… parents hunted them. They hunted a lot. But Bunnelby stew’s my favourite. With onions. Master Pillar grew a lot of vegetables.”

The pained look on his face twists my stomach. He’s already told me about his parents, who died on a big hunt, quite carelessly from the sounds of it as they liked to throw themselves into danger. Typical fighting types. It’s beyond me who Master Pillar is, but that’s a good conversation to have later.

“We can do Bunnelby stew. With onions.”

Dex stares at my hand a moment longer, and finally shakes it before following me out of the daycare. He doesn’t say bye to anyone on the way, and Maisie only gives a thumbs up as she’s applying a potion on a bruised Pokemon, so I take Dex straight to the car. I sit in the front seat, but Dex doesn’t follow. What’s he doing out there? I open the side he’s supposed to enter.

“I’ve never been in a car before,” he says.

Right. I shouldn’t have taken that for granted.

“Just climb up to the booster seat and I’ll strap you in.”

Dex takes to it well enough, and I lean from the front to fasten his seatbelt. He paws at the leather strap.

“This feels weird,” he says.

“It’ll feel weird, yeah, but it’s for your own safety. You’ll go flying out the window otherwise.”

Dex tries to make himself comfortable as I start the drive. I don’t think Dex is quite ready for my music, so I stick the radio on. Not that Dex is paying much attention to the cheesy pop song on there since he’s gazing out the window. Don’t tell me you’re bored already, kid.

“How’d you get a car?” Dex says, eyes fixed on the farmland that whizzes past our view. “Aren’t those for humans?”

That sort of question would piss me off coming from a human, but of course a Machop like him would be curious. “Well, I learned to drive a while ago, just for work, then I earned enough to buy this beaut.” I pat the wheel with pride.

“But how? I didn’t know we could do that.”

“A human taught me.”

That satisfies Dex for now. Good. I don’t fancy reliving that chapter of my life, though it wasn’t all bad. Maybe I owe Terry a text; he’d like to see how far I’ve come.

“Why would I wanna learn how to drive?”



I hum in reply. I never stopped to think about it too deeply; it’s just second nature to me. I take in the scenery before me. The air from the parted window gently blows across my face. The road opens up to a far-away view of Circhester’s sandstone buildings, and clouds of many different shades of grey line the sky.

“I didn’t have much choice at the time, but I got a real taste for it. I travelled all through Galar, saw things that would make you weep, listened to a lot of good music, stopped at some really good eateries on the way too.”

I think about all the humans I hooked up with on the way, but Dex doesn’t need to know that, and it’s ancient history now. What happens on the road stays on the road.

“More than that, though,” I continue, “I felt free.”

“Free?”

“Yeah. You could wait for flying taxis or trains to herd you around, but going places on your own is a whole different beast.”

Dex pauses, taking his sight away from the window.

“Do I have to learn to drive too if I wanna stay with you?”

“Don’t be daft.” I sigh. The kid doesn’t even realise how much freedom he has as a Pokémon. All he’s known is the path laid out for him by his parents and trainers, just like I used to. “That’s the point, you can choose what you want to do. It’s your life.”

“My life.” Dex turns to the window again. We’re stuck in traffic since we’ve reached central Circhester again. I’m definitely late. Oh well, might as well soak in the scenery.

On the main street, that Toxtricity busker noodles on a guitar plugged into his chest with crocodile clips. He gets lots of weird stares from humans, not that the busker usually picks a great time to practise his riffs, but Dex leans against the window, smearing his hands against the glass.

“Woah!” Dex’s eyes gleam. This is the first time he's brightened up like this. “He’s good!”

“You like that?”

“Yeah! It’s kind of like what Master Pillar plays, but weirder and cooler!”

“And this Master Pillar is?”

“She’s a Conkeldurr. Master Pillar makes guitars and stuff.”

“So music runs in the dwelling?”

“Not really, just her. But she plays all these old tunes. I like it but I wish it was more like this.” He smiles at me. “Can it go any louder?”

I roll Dex’s window down so he can better hear the busker. The way he bobs his head to the Toxtricity’s strumming reminds me of being in the mosh pit. I have a good feeling I’ll love Dex.

As we drive, Dex regales me with tales back home of Master Pillar. She showed the kid how to make a guitar from pieces of driftwood and Spinarak silk, and temporarily took care of Dex when his folks passed away, just before he got sent off for his rite of passage as a Machop. I think Barry would be glad to hear Dex is a dab hand at instruments too.

I take extra care up the slope leading up to the base. I wouldn’t usually think about the ‘Stantler X’ing’ signs on each side of the road, but since Dex is with me, I’m on extra alert. Damn feral Pokemon. Fortunately, the home stretch passes with ease. As I pull into the driveway, the eyes of the whole Mach n’ Van team burn into me through the window.

“They look mad,” Dex says.

“Because I’m late.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it. Besides, they’ll change their tune when they see you.”

I get out of the car and face the music.

“This anklebiter better be worth holding us up,” Hammer grumbles.

“He will be.” I undo Dex’s seatbelt, setting him loose. He stares at the team, and they stare back with varying degrees of curiosity.

“Hey, lil fella,” Hammer says, waving all four hands. He gets down on his knees and holds out his fists, which Dex pounds, one, one-two. Their conversation gets lost in the flurry of punches, but by the end of their ‘chat’, both Hammer and Dex are full of smiles.

I should be thanking Hammer for handling that well, but something about that exchange touches a nerve. What does he know that I don’t? I try to park that as best as I can.

“What’s your name?” Hammer asks.

“Dex. We say it like–” Dex bats Hammer’s side with the flat of his right hand. That, I recognise: useful, handy, dexterous. Hammer repeats the same gesture.

“Dex, I’ll try not to work you to the bone today, but we’ve got a couple of places to move stuff to.” He gestures to the rest of the crew. “You won’t be alone, though. I bet Glen’ll help you out too.”

Hammer throws me a particularly smug look. It would get on my nerves any other day, but I need to act like a good role model for Dex.

“Sure, I’ll help.”

“Good. Now can we move it before we get our butts kicked for being late?”

I can’t agree more. Everyone gathers inside the van and I bring the booster seat so Dex can sit in the back with the rest of the crew. It’s only fair to him so he has company, and it doesn’t turn too many heads, though Hammer gives me another one of his funny looks like he’s trying to find out all my secrets.

It’s hard to contribute to the crew’s conversation while I’m driving, but it all sounds cordial enough. I hear slithers of questions directed towards Dex and where he came from, and Dex asks questions of his own. Rip talks Dex’s ears off about his fledgling boxing career, and one Machoke who’s just visiting for the week tells him that he’s working at the Mach n’ Van while his trainer’s seeing his family. From Dex’s low tone, it hits a little close to home, but Hammer changes the subject and asks if Dex has anything else planned with me today.

“He says we’ll have Bunnelby stew at his place.”

“Sounds good!” Hammer says. “I do a mean stew myself, though stir fries are my favourite. Have you ever had noodles before?”

“What are noodles?”

“They’re made of wheat, kind of like pasta. They’re pretty popular in Kanto, and you can cook ‘em in all sorts of sauces.”

“Sounds cool.”

“They are! Heck, I could do it sometime if you wanted.”



They’re getting along just fine. I dare say, Hammer’s more of a dad than me, which isn’t great news. It’s a good thing we’re just about to stop at our first pickup so they don’t get too chummy yet.

“We’re almost here,” I say. “Get ready, all of you.”

We stop outside a block of flats situated just outside the city centre. Thankfully it’s a ground floor flat, and it’s already nicer than mine by virtue of having a garden, though the grass is all overgrown. It’s a lot roomier as well if the size of the window is any indication. I buzz the doorbell and wait for our client to come out, but nobody answers. I press it a few more times. Still no dice.

“For fu–” I stop as soon as I remember Dex is behind me. I don’t think his innocent Pokemon ears can comprehend swears yet, let alone the human language. Whatever, I’ll just ring whoever we’re supposed to be moving stuff for.

“Mmm?” a Pokemon’s voice bellows.

“It’s the Mach n’ Van service. We’ve been outside for, like, five minutes.”

Stomps resound from inside the flat, and the front door swings open to reveal a headphone-wearing Snorlax that takes up the whole freaking door frame. She’s wearing a crumb-encrusted Pokemon Unite shirt, probably owed to the massive Pokemunch crisp packet stuck to her paw. I don’t know what the phone’s doing in her other claw.

“Hey.” She yawns. “You were late, so I just took a nap.”

“Sorry about that.” I can’t blame her for being, well, a Snorlax. “Is everything sorted?”

“Yeah. A human cleaner came by earlier.”

I’d like to ask if she owns the place, and how she can afford it on top of a cleaner as a Pokemon. Quite frankly, I’m jealous as hell, but I’ve worked this job long enough to not let that consume me. “Thank you, we’ll take care of it from here.”

“Cool. Do you mind if I stream this?”

Oh, now it makes sense. I turn to the rest of our crew. Save for Dex, who probably thinks she’s talking about a narrow river, everyone else shrugs. “Go for it.”

She turns around and waddles indoors. “Wow, chat’s really popping off right now. Oh, someone donated. Thanks. You get one gold star. Someone’s asking…”

Her voice trails off as she disappears into her flat. We follow in after her and split the work into teams. Me and Dex handle the bedroom’s boxes, mostly lamps, a Tangela-looking monstrosity of bunched-up wires, plushies and all sorts of nerdy paraphernalia.

“Do I just pick up one of these?”

He goes for the box containing a beefy tower of a desktop computer. He has a difficult time lifting it, not that I can blame him as it’s half his size.

“It’s not too heavy, is it?” I ask.

“No. I can’t grip it. Sorry, it’s–”

I step in before the kid panics, and kneel down to take the burden off his hands. “You just have to grab both corners and keep it tucked to your chest. Don’t use too much of your back or you’ll strain it. Got it?”

He manages this time, though he can just barely see as the box almost covers his face. “Now what?”

“Follow me.”

I take my time, lifting another box to demonstrate. I’m worried he’ll trip and fall, but he follows my lead, and moves his first box from the flat into the van.

“Did I do good?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I don’t let him bask in his own glory too much as there’s more work to do. “One down, plenty more to go.”

The job goes smoothly with him around. Dex is the type of Machop I like working with. He keeps his head down, does his job, and asks the right questions, unlike some Machoke who’ve shadowed me before, either whining about too much work or wasting my time with inane bullshit like whichever team’s winning the Galar League Championships.

The work for the next couple of hours goes smoothly. We don’t make too much small talk with our client once we finish the job, as the Snorlax is content to take a nap in her new, nicer apartment in the city centre. It works well for us since it’s lunchtime, and the nearest Gremms isn’t too far from here so I don’t even have to move the van.

“How’d you feel about that, Dex?” I ask as we walk through Circhester’s streets. “Hopefully it wasn’t too boring picking up those boxes.”

“I like it,” Dex chirps. “It’s not like fightin’, but it’s nice. And I’m helpin’ too.”

“Some real weird client, though,” Hammer says. “I asked her what she does and she told me she films herself sleeping, eating, or playing those computer games. I’d love to get paid to do that.”

“What, and laze around all day?” Rip grumbles. “That sounds lame.”

“She was talkin’ to herself a lot,” Dex says. “And what’s she eatin’?”

“They’re dried potato snacks,” I reply. “You’ll get to try them some day. We’re heading somewhere you can get them right now.”

We enter the automatic doors to the takeaway food kiosk. To me and the rest of the crew, it’s cheap food that fills our guts. Dex, however, seems awestruck with how much choice there is since he’s standing in the middle of the queue without realising it. I gently move him to the sandwich aisle.

“So humans just come here and get ‘em?” he asks.

“And some Pokemon.” Aside from our crew who takes their time picking what they want, there’s a suited-up Inteleon with a briefcase who walks out the door with a takeaway coffee. “Though we still have to pay for them.”

“I know that.” He looks at all the shelves chock full of pasties and pastries. “But this is so much stuff. This could feed everyone back home.”

He’s got a point; add that to the list of things I take for granted. “None of it gets wasted. Now what do you want? My treat for your hard work.”

“Really?” He perks back up. “Um, I dunno, you pick!”

He trusts me. I give him the lot: a BLT, an oran smoothie and even throw in a leppa-flavoured Wyndon bun. As we eat in a small park outside, I watch Dex tear into his sandwich. I don’t expect him to be blown away by it, but his eyes glisten with each bite he takes, doubly so as he demolishes his dessert.

“Not too bad, huh?” I say, in between bites of my coronation sandwich.

“Mine didn’t come with a fork,” Rip says, staring at his pasta.

“Don’t you eat with your hands?” Dex asks.

“After they’ve touched that Snorlax’s grubby settee? No way.”

“Your fork’sth in the packathing,” Hammer says in the middle of chewing his Turffish pasty. He’s got such an annoying habit of talking with his mouth full.

“Right, boss. Swear I was going nuts.”

“They don’t make it easy to find, though,” I say.

“No kidding. Say, Dex, want some?”

“Sure!”

Dex eagerly takes a bite of Rip’s pine nut pasta. Group lunches aren’t uncommon for us, but I usually eat in silence or use our time off as an excuse to go for a smoke. Somehow, with Dex around, I feel at ease eating with the crew. It doesn’t hurt that the sun’s come out now and this park’s not too shabby with a nice view of the water fountain in the centre.

When was the last time me and Barry just took a stroll around this area? Not since before his promotion. And there’s a guy walking past that looks suspiciously like…

Shit, it’s Barry. He takes out his headphones, but doesn’t wave at me. He just stares.

I want to come up and hug him. I want him to tell me about his work day so far and share lunch with me since I know he’s on his break. I want to treat him to a coffee to help him get through his shitty job. But I can’t. Not in front of my team.

How do I play it off? Do I just wave at him and pretend he’s a friend? That would be a lie. But this whole relationship we have is built around lying to everyone. I’ll do it. I’m raising my hand.

“Look at that weirdo staring at us,” Hammer snarls.

“Shut the hell up, Hammer,” I snap.

That turns everyone’s heads. Shit, I shouldn’t have said that. Now everyone’s looking at me like I’m the weirdo. Even Dex. Seeing him confused and afraid at something I’ve said makes my heart drop down to my stomach.

“I, I mean–” I stammer, trying to salvage my outburst somehow–”shut up, Hammer. Maybe that weirdo won’t notice us if we don’t say anything. That’s what I meant.”

It’s a shit excuse, but that doesn’t matter as Barry’s disappeared, probably gone back to work. I really hope he didn’t see me acting out like that, but now he’s gone, our team should be the way it was before, right?

“Yeah.” Hammer’s smile doesn’t entirely reach his eyes. “You’re right. Good thinking, Glen.”

The rest of our lunch passes in silence. I try to chalk it up to soaking in the park’s serenity, but the quiet continues in the van on the way to our next pickup. Not even the radio can fill it.

I know I screwed up. The crew knows it. Dex knows it too since he’s not his usual, curious self. Never before have I so badly craved a cigarette. It’s the longest I’ve been without one in a while, just a few hours. But the pack’s back in my own car. I can’t just stop at the nearest shop and get some more as a Pokemon.

My clammy hands slip on the leather wheel. I’m such an idiot. There were so many other ways that could’ve played out. I should’ve known he’d cross by that park at noon. I should’ve just said ‘hi’, or not acknowledged him at all, or at the very least not swear at Hammer.

I take deep breaths, one two, one two. It’s okay. The moment will pass when we start our next job. The crew will forget once they start packing boxes, I’ll bury my frustration in my work as I always do, I’ll say sorry, then we can put it behind us.

It’s not long before we reach the other pickup: a semi-detached house in one of the central neighbourhoods. The family that greets us, the dad, mum and their two sons, look like they’re ripped from a postcard, all full of smiles. Even their Boltund’s a ray of goddamn sunshine, sitting on his hindquarters while he lolls his tongue.

“Hey, nice to finally meet you!” the woman greets. “I’ve heard so many good things about Mach n’ Van!”

“Good. We won’t disappoint, ma’am.” From her vice-like grip to her smart-casual clothes, I feel like she’s about to sell us her own house. “Is everything ready?”

“Have you two packed all your toys?” she asks her pre-teen kids who nod in unison. Has she brainwashed the little runts or something?

“Crap,” her husband pipes up, dressed in a Circhester Football Club jersey, “I left my phone on charge in the house.”

“Harold, go get it before we leave it behind,” the woman commands.

“Yes, ma’am!” He rushes back in. That’s another minute or two before we can get a move on. The Boltund approaches Dex. Dex recoils as if he’s preparing for a fight. I’d do the same if a freaking thunderbolt-flinging hound sized me up.

“Yes, yes, Machop!” he greets, extending his paw. “Give my ears a good scritch!”

Dex cautiously brings his hand up to the Boltund’s head, and chuckles as the Boltund grunts under his grasp. I kneel down and scritch his other ear, hoping it scores some Dad points in Dex’s eyes. The fur feels what I’d imagine TV static to feel like. Dex glances at me briefly, and smiles before he turns his attention back to the loyal little doggy.

We don’t have too long before the dad comes out and we can start doing our job. The crew don’t even look at me as they enter the house. I turn to Dex, who stops stroking the Boltund to massage his hand.

“You can join them if you want,” I say. “I can handle the other boxes myself.”

“It’s okay,” Dex says. “I’ll help you.”

So I haven’t pissed him off yet. Good. We start with the kids’ bedroom, clearing out boxes of plushie Pokemon and clothes.

“Don’t you like Hammer?” Dex asks.

I freeze, almost dropping the two boxes I’m carrying. “It’s not that.”

“Then why’d you shout at him?”

I take a deep breath and set the boxes aside.

“Look. It’s complicated. Me and Hammer have been working together for a while, and sometimes he gets on my nerves. I’m sure you have people like that in your life.”

“Maybe.” Dex puts his box aside too and rubs his shoulder. “But he wasn’t doing anythin’ wrong. That human was weird.”

I’m not going to be short with Dex, as annoyed as I am by the whole situation. “Alright, this will all make sense later. Can you trust me on this?”

Dex stares at a white patch on the wall where a poster used to be. The crew’s footsteps echo from downstairs.

“Something you need to understand is that me and Hammer aren’t friends. We work together, but we don’t really know each other, and I like to keep my life separate from his. You’ll understand when you work long enough.”

“We don’t really know each other.”

The kid’s too sharp for his own good. “Well, I wanna know more about you, Dex. And I want to share my life with you.” I smile. “You know that music the Toxtricity was playing? I listen to that sort of stuff all the time. I see whole bands like that too.”

Dex tilts his head at me. “Really?”

“Yeah. I hope you can join me for a gig some time. There’s so much I wanna show you too.”

I know I shouldn’t do this but I rummage through the boxes and find a plushie of a caped Greninja.

“That’s a Pokemon,” Dex states.

“That’s not just any Pokemon, that’s Long Legged Larry, the Greninja.” I give another forced smile. “He’s a superhero that fights crime. They’ve made all sorts of shows and movies about him.”

“What’s crime?”

I have a lot to teach this kid, not that I hope he ever comes across someone robbing a bank or worse. “Bad people doing bad things.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. But it’s fun to see him getting justice too.” I fling the plushie up in the air and catch it. “And jumping over skyscrapers; really tall buildings.”

I thought Dex would want to play with him, but he just stares at his feet.

“There’s so much here. It’s so confusin’.”

“You’ll get the hang of it.” I shove Larry back in the box. “Now c’mon, we need to get a move on before the rest think we’re slacking. Okay?”

Dex picks up the box in front of him and nods. I don’t know if he feels any better by the end of our talk, but he loses himself in the work, and soon enough, we both fill the van. The family tails us to their new house in their own car, which looks identical to the one they just moved out from, except it’s in a suburban area further from the city. I can’t say it’s an upgrade since there isn’t much here except rows upon rows of houses painted a blinding white, but again, I keep my judgments to myself.

As we unload the boxes, all the carrying and bending over I’ve done in the day catches up with me, to the point Dex outpaces me. This time, I don’t feel so guilty about taking a breather by the van. On instinct, I bring out my phone to the tune of four text messages from Barry.

B: ‘How’s it going with Dex? I wanted to call you to see how you were getting on but figured you were busy.’ - 10:09AM

I like how he types everything like he probably does at work, all spell-checked and clear to read. No annoying text-speak.

B: ‘Fuck my boss, seriously. He didn’t end up using the printouts and blamed me for wasting our charity budget.’ - 11:15AM

He also sent a gif of a Pangoro snapping an office keyboard in half. It still surprises me how blunt he is behind a screen.

B: ‘I’m on my break now. What did you want me to do for dinner? Looking forward to meeting Dex.’ - 12:32AM

Crap, I forgot to get back to him. I’m about to type what Dex wants when I see the last message.

B: ‘Sorry I ran off, I was a bit blindsided. I didn’t expect to see you at the park with your work buddies, and with Dex too. It was nice to see you earlier, but maybe warn me next time you’re in our spot.’ - 12:56PM

All the air goes out of me, like I’ve just been pricked with a pin. I know why he said it. I should’ve gone to literally any other place outside of our usual meeting spot. We hold both our livelihoods in our hands every time we show any sort of affection in public.

I think of all the other close calls we’ve had. Me and Barry have kissed in the toilets at The Cave with humans outside the cubicles. Countless times, we’ve had to stop ourselves from holding hands. Even when we’re talking sometimes, whether it’s in a cafe or in a park, he checks over his shoulder or keeps his distance, always a reminder that someone could be watching.

It was exciting at first, to feel like we’re thieves about to be caught. Now, though?

My thumb hovers over the keyboard for ages until Hammer, yet again, slaps my back.

“I thought you were helping,” he says. “Guess you’ve hit your limit.”

I try to collect myself. Put those thoughts in a box, like I always have. But I just stare at Hammer, who in turn narrows his eyes.

“You still having problems with your place? That’d explain why you’re acting so weird lately; landlords sound like pure evil.”

He still doesn’t know I’ve moved in with Barry. I’ll just settle for the lie as usual.

“Yeah,” I say at last. “They’ve still not fixed half the stuff there.”

“Ah. I hope you get it sorted.”

I stare at my boots, which shuffle against gravel. What I would give for a Sandy Numel right now.

“I’m just taking a stab in the dark here,” he continues. “You and that anklebiter seem awful close. You say he’s lost his parents. So… what’s going on?”

That gets my attention. I want to tell him the truth, just so I can get him off my back, but the words don’t come out. The thought of telling anyone is still so petrifying. All I can settle for is a half-truth.

“I want him to live with me,” I say. “I want to raise him as my own.”

Hammer whistles. “That’s… surprising. Never pegged you as the dad type.”

“Meaning what?”

“You’re usually… you know, a bit of a sourpuss.”

“Well screw you too.”

“You don’t mince words, do you? But I see you lighten up a lil’ around him. That’s a good thing.”

I snort. “Thanks, I guess.”

“But…” His tone drops. “Glen. I know you don’t want to hear it, but your crummy flat, as you once put it, ain’t a good place for him. He’s gonna be miserable cooped up there, especially if that human’s being a pain in the rear.”

He talks as if he knows anything about my life, or Dex’s. All I can give is a grunt in reply.

“He can stay at our house until you get your place sorted or move somewhere else. But it’s gonna be tough. Tough for you, and tough for him, especially in the city. It just ain’t made for beasts like us.”

“I know.” That’s all I’ll say.

“Alright.” Hammer pats my shoulder and keeps it there. He tries to look at me, though I try to turn away. I can see myself reflected in his eyes and I hate how pathetic I must look. “Just ask yourself if it’s something you both want. Take it easy, Mister Puff Puff.”

Hammer finally gets back to his work. I don’t. I stay with my back against the van. Dex is rushing to move the boxes into the house. Rip matches his pace. It seems like they’re in a race to pack stuff away the quickest, judging by the smiles on their faces.

Meanwhile, the family carefully plays football on one side of the garden. The parents cheer their kids on as they act as the goalies on opposite teams. Both sons tackle each other as two Machoke would tackle each other in a fight. All in good fun. The eldest shoots, scores, and the parents pull him into a tackle hug, not caring that the grass is staining their clothes and the Boltund’s licking their faces.

Again, I try to think of the good times me, Dex, and Barry will spend together. But neither the Mach n’ Van crew nor the human family has anything to hide. Me and Barry do.

What’s the worst that could happen with us together? Dex would be taken away. Both our jobs would be ruined. Not only that, Barry would probably be thrown in jail. I’d just be tossed aside as the victim, as if I had no say in the matter, and find another job somewhere else to start on a clean slate. But the best?

All I can see is that Dex will live his whole life keeping up a lie that we’ve forced upon him.

I retreat back into the front seat of the van, just staring out of the window that gives way to the rest of the suburbs, all human-owned, all middle class. Deep breaths, one two. Deep breaths, one two three four. It doesn’t work. I claw at my pockets. There’s nothing there. No release from this. Nothing to guard me from myself.

I want Dex to live a normal life, not like I did. But nothing about me and Barry is normal. Even Dex’s good memories would all be tainted by our lie, like the specks of mold in our cozy little flat.

There’s no way this is going to work. Not when Barry doesn’t want us to be seen. Not when Dex needs other kids, Pokemon, hell, anyone else to play with that isn’t us. The only right decision I can make, for Barry’s sake, for Dex’s sake, is to call it off.

I stay there until the crew trickles in, one by one. I see Dex in the rear-view mirror; he’s looking into it too. Looking at me, I imagine. Can he tell what I’m thinking?

“Uh, can we go home already?” Rip asks. “I wanna practise my right hook.”

Right. This is my job. I can do that. I start the van and drive out of these depressing suburbs. To think it’s evening already. The clouds have cleared up, giving way to an orange, pink sky. It does nothing to clear my mood. The rest of the drive goes by in a daze, and so does the chatter behind me, something about how excitable the Boltund was. Dex joins in too and laughs at one of Hammer’s lame dad jokes. He enjoys being around them.

That’s it. He’ll have a much better shot at the Mach n’ Van. I’ll give him that offer, at least. That way, I can still see him. My plan becomes clearer the closer we head to the house.

My phone rings. I know it’s Barry from the custom ringtone that plays: a riff from Groudon’s Blood by Thousands of Dead Legendaries. I can’t talk to him in front of my crew, so I let it die out.

“What the heck was that noise?” Rip asks.

“Glen’s phone,” Hammer says on my behalf. “It plays all sorts of weird stuff.”

“It sounds cool!” Dex chimes in.

Something wet pricks behind my eyeballs, but I blink it away, like I’ve always done. I’m so sorry, kid.

We finally make it back to the home base. Most of the crew sprint into the fields, as they usually do. Only Hammer and Dex are left.

I take a deep breath. I know this’ll suck. But this has to be done.

“Hey, Dex.” I wipe away whatever’s left of my tears and smile at Dex, whose feet sway from the booster seat. “How’d you find today?”

“It was cool! You get to do this every day?”

“Yeah. We go to all sorts of places.” I hum. “Say, what do you want to do now?”

“Bunnelby stew?”

I sigh. I know Dex will feel somewhat betrayed.

“Hammer’s a good cook, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Hammer chimes in. “Actually, we should have enough stuff for stew. Not sure I have Bunnelby, though.”

Dex looks at Hammer, then back to me. His feet stop kicking. “I thought we were gonna go to yours.”

“I know.” There’s still an opportunity to change my mind. But I can’t hedge this. That would just give him false hope. I’ve given enough of it already. “Listen, kid, plans have changed. I’m not sure it would be good for you to stay around mine. I think the Mach n’ Van will be better for you. You enjoy it here, right?”

Dex looks over at the other Machoke roughhousing in the garden. “I do.”

“Then I’m sure Hammer will have a spot for you.”

“Of course.” Hammer hums. “Dex has been a great help today.”

“And I’ll still come and see you. I just–” I falter, trying to think of what to say next. It all sounds like an excuse when it’s not. “You’re great, kid. I want to see you happy. I think this will be a good next step for you. And if you get sick of it, we can find something else for you to do. How’s that sound?”

Dex looks back at me again. He doesn’t seem lost. He’s taking this rather well, in fact, but it doesn’t make me feel any less guilty.

“Good,” he says. “Can I stay?”

“Room and board,” Hammer says. “You can even help me with the ingredients if you want.”

“Have you got onions?” Dex asks.

“What’s a stew without onions?” Hammer reaches over to pat Dex on the shoulder, like he does with me. “Now, if you wanna join them, I’ll be right there with you.”

Dex nods, then his face drops. He opens his mouth, then closes it and undoes his seatbelt. He runs out and pounces into the fray, like there’s a dual battle going on.

Hammer stays behind. He reaches for my shoulder when I recoil. His back hunches, then he steps out of the van and slams the door shut, joining the rest.

That’s it. I’ve washed my hands of this. Now I just want to go home, away from these other Machoke. I collect my pay and don’t even look back at the rest as I get back into my own car. I check my phone. Of course, it’s Barry. One missed call and one new message:

B: ‘Just finished work, good riddance. I guess you’re still busy, so that’s fine. Let me know what Dex wants when you can. xx.’ - 5:01PM

I never answered his texts about what Dex would like for dinner, not that it matters now. I text ‘dex isnt coming’ and toss the phone onto the dashboard. Right away, I dive for the cigarettes in the glove box and light up.

Sweet release.

 

[canisaries]

I'm baaaaack!

The human caretaker, Maisie, pops out of the other room with an Arcanine following after her.

big dogy...

She walks me through the daycare to a lounge area where two Pokemon, a Hitmontop and Gothita, playing a fighting game on a TV. I recognise the characters: one’s a half-human, half-Purrloin, the other’s a bipedal Luxray, both throwing special moves at each other.

“They’re still making PokeMorphs games?” I ask.

*soyjak point*

This daycare isn’t a terrible place for Pokemon, but Dex probably doesn’t know anybody here since daycare Pokemon don’t linger for long, except the rentals. If Dex runs out of options, then he’ll probably need to become a rental Pokemon too.

The world doesn’t make it easy for Pokemon to live without a trainer. It took me ages to find my place in it, and I had to figure out what that was on my own. I’m not gonna put Dex through what I went through.

Damn, yeah. Since I don't recall there being any Pokémon in schools in your setting (GeL being the exception, but it definitely seemed like an exception), it would be pretty hard for Pokémon to get jobs that require education.

“Why would I wanna learn how to drive?”



I hum in reply.

There seem to be a few extra row changes here. Accidental or intentional?

“She’s a Conkeldurr. Master Pillar makes guitars and stuff.”

maybe they also had a master who was really good at trapping prey using bait, a Master Baiter if you will

I back away, worried he’s about to give me a knuckle sandwich until he flashes a smile, still in his battle stance. Maybe the kid just wants to playfight. I know Dex’ll feel better for it, even if I’m not rushing to school a Machop, so I hold my hands out like a boxing coach. Dex responds with one punch, then a one-two punch. One, one-two, one, one-two. Then he stops and nurses his hands.

“I was tryin’ to say hi,” he finally says.

Now I get it. That’s the greeting we used in our dwelling: one punch was what they used to start a conversation, and a one-two punch meant ‘hello’. It’s a way for us fighting types to talk without words, something I forgot long ago.

This is soooooo cool. I already loved this aspect of I, Isobel and I love that we get to see more of it.

“They are! Heck, I could do it sometime if you wanted.”



They’re getting along just fine.

More row changes here.

Aside from our crew who takes their time picking what they want, there’s a suited-up Inteleon with a briefcase who walks out the door with a takeaway coffee.

holy shit its nolan heartache

“I, I mean–” I stammer, trying to salvage my outburst somehow–”shut up, Hammer. Maybe that weirdo won’t notice us if we don’t say anything. That’s what I meant.”

:'(

It just ain’t made for beasts like us.

HE SAID THE

Thousands of Dead Legendaries

this is that one fic on thousand roads i think

Dex looks at Hammer, then back to me. His feet stop kicking. “I thought we were gonna go to yours.”

“I know.” There’s still an opportunity to change my mind. But I can’t hedge this. That would just give him false hope. I’ve given enough of it already. “Listen, kid, plans have changed. I’m not sure it would be good for you to stay around mine. I think the Mach n’ Van will be better for you. You enjoy it here, right?”

This is reeeaaalllly minor and probably just me, but I didn't realize the "mine" referred to the "yours" and was confused by the sentence until I reread the context. I think it's because the two are so far apart in text even if they make sense as a dialogue exchange. Could be amended with "mine" -> "my place", but not a priority in any sort of way.

I never answered his texts about what Dex would like for dinner, not that it matters now. I text ‘dex isnt coming’ and toss the phone onto the dashboard. Right away, I dive for the cigarettes in the glove box and light up.

:'(

---

Wow, things took a turn! I was fully expecting Glen to take Dex home in this chapter. However, I think Glen's decision makes sense (to himself) - he hadn't actually met Dex before, so now that he did and saw how Dex interacted with the other members of his line vs Glen as well as how he and Barry's relationship would make things difficult for Dex, he saw things from a new perspective. He's also under a lot of stress here, and likely more prone to hasty decisions.

Nothing else comes to mind about the chapter right now, but I definitely wanna see where things go from here. Good luck with writing onward, and see you around!

 

[NebulaDreams]

Author's Note: Things get a little intense here. It's the climax of the fic, after all, with one shorter chapter after this one. This is still a T, but it starts with a pretty intense argument between the main couple, topped with a depiction of a panic attack, so if that hits close to home for people, be warned.

Part 3: A Machoke Crashes Into A Tree​

I burn through my last few cigarettes by the time I drive back to my place. I’ve already thought about what I’m going to say, but I still have to gather myself before I get out of my car to unlock the front door. Right away, I’m hit with a cloud of bubblegum stink.

Barry’s stretched out on the settee, glued to his phone while he puffs on his vape pen. It sounds like he’s watching one of his dumb video essays, something he usually puts on while he’s cooking or playing his games. I so badly want to snuggle up to him, but I can’t. We need to settle what happened in the park.

“Hey,” I say, wiping my boots on the welcome mat.

Barry sighs and puts his phone away, though he doesn’t budge from his position with his feet propped up on the armrest. I’d rehearsed something on the way here, but I’ve forgotten what it is and my body freezes like I’ve been hit with an ice beam.

I know Barry doesn’t deal well with confrontation. He’s always the last person to speak up whenever someone gets his order wrong or cuts in line. If there’s anyone who needs to speak up, it’s me.

“I got your text,” he says, cutting me short.

“Yeah.”

The ticking clock in the kitchen punctuates the silence. Well, colour me surprised.

“I was really looking forward to doing dinner tonight,” he continues. “You never told me what he wanted.”

“Bunnelby stew,” I say, fighting off the tickle in my throat.

“Aw, that’s a shame, it would’ve been nice to have him around.”

He doesn’t know the half of it.

“So, what happened? Did he just decide not to come with you?”

I pop my boots off and plant my socked feet firmly onto the carpet. I can feel myself sinking into it.

“I called it off.”

“What?” Barry sits up and tugs at his beard. “You didn’t ask me first?”

“Nope.”

“Glen,” he chides like I’m some Machop. “I thought we were doing this together.”

“It’s not like I needed permission from you.” The words tumble out like rocks falling off a cliff. I hate the direction this is going, but I can’t stop myself as I take a few steps forward, looking down at Barry. “It was my idea to take him in anyway.”

“So that means I don’t get a say in it?”

“No.” I pinch my snout. “That’s not what I meant. I just…”

Barry stops fiddling with his stubble, which is good, but now he’s fiddling with the seat cushioning instead.

“Look, we both knew it might not’ve worked out. We’re both working full time. He’d either be cooped up in here with us, or we’ll be outside, not even able to act like two normal parents in front of everyone else. We’re basically cut off from everyone else too. Not even your friends or parents know about us together.”

Barry grabs a fistful of settee leather. “I know.”

“See?” I rub the back of my neck. “And things being as they are, y’know, your anxiety–”

“Don’t. My anxiety’s not an excuse for us to dump Dex.”

“Excuse?” I snort. “Just like telling me to ‘warn you’ isn’t an excuse?”

“Shit,” his voice cracks. Barry rubs his face. “I shouldn’t have said that. I just freaked out. I wasn’t expecting to see you then.”

He always says something like that after these close calls.

“I’m so sick of this. We can’t even hold hands in public.”

“How d’you think I feel?”

Barry’s taking deep breaths, one two, one two. Not this again. I should say some words of comfort. After all he’s told me about his family, those shitty high school friends of his who blackmailed him over his interests in Pokemon, and all his relationships that have deteriorated in the past, there’s plenty he needs comforting with. But the words don’t come.

Barry regains his composure a little, and stands up, giving me a stone faced look.

”You know, I texted you all day and you didn’t even talk to me.”

I grunt. “Clingy, much? I don’t have to update you on everything I do.”

“I know, just–” he throws his hands up in the air–”You should’ve told me you were having second thoughts.”

“I was busy, alright?” I pace around the room. “Today was stressful and I was just thinking in the heat of the moment.”

“I get being busy, but we are supposed to communicate when stuff gets tough!” He scratches his mane of hair. “It’s like, we’ve been together all this time and it still feels there’s this… wall between us.”

“And what’s that got to do with what happened today?”

“Everything! You never tell me how work’s going or how you’re feeling. You never look happy and you won’t even say why.”

“Because I’m driving a bunch of stupid fucking Pokemon around all day.” I get all up in his face. “Is that the answer you want?”

He faces me in turn, almost squishing his nose against mine. “Then quit.”

“Oh, like it’s so easy! You actually get to have a career! I just have a day job!”

“There are other options, y’know.”

“Like what, sucking up to a trainer on some stupid trinket quest?”

“No, I mean those PokeJobs coming up. Or a hobby or a course you can pick up. Oh, and those ‘stupid fucking Pokemon’ you talk about make a lot of money just streaming these days too. You were talking about how Dex could do anything he wanted, so why don’t you practise what you preach?”

“It’s too late for me.” I breathe through my nose. “I’m fine just surviving with what I know.”

“But you’re not happy.”

“Yeah, that’s called adulthood.”

“Oh fuck off.” Barry scoffs and walks away, heading towards his room. “You sound just like my dad. Maybe it’s better that Dex didn’t come with you.”

His dad? That deadbeat?

How dare he?

Everything happens so fast. That rush within me. That fighting spirit. I haven’t felt it in so long. Before I know it, my fist hits the wall behind the settee. Oh, shit. There’s a dent in it now. And Barry’s backed himself against the bedroom door, all wide eyed. He starts yanking his beard, then tugging his neck.

“Nnghh… no, no, don’t–” he rapidly breathes. “I’m sorry, I, I, um, ugh–”

He’s lying against the door now, mumbling and hyperventilating. Shit, he’s having one of his panic attacks again. I’m not in the mood for this.

“Barry,” I huff in between breaths, “stop this. You’re making a fool of yourself.”

He doesn’t stop. He keeps going, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and manages to rip out a whole clump of it like he’s tearing paper.

“Barry...” I groan. “Barry, please.” It takes a few deep breaths before it hits me: I did this to him. My Barry.

Whatever monster made me punch the wall ebbs out of me. My face feels hot. I’m crying, weeping. All the things I’ve tried to express to him, everything I’ve held in all this time, just melts out of my eyes and I join Barry on the floor, hugging him and kissing him and sobbing into his chest. I don’t want him to leave me. He’s too important to me. I’ve got nothing else, not even Dex now.

“I’m sorry,” I choke out in between sobs. “I’m sorry, Barry. Stay with me, please.”

I just want him to be okay. To not feel like he feels. I try to ground him however I can, rubbing his back and talking to him, and he eases into it until his breathing slows, then it's his turn to cry into my chest. We just stay like that, arms wrapped around each other, not caring about what he said or what I said. I don’t even know how long we stay there for, just that it’s gotten darker by the time we both calm down.

“Sorry,” Barry says in between breaths. “I didn’t mean that. About Dex.”

Neither of us meant it. I tell myself that even as my hand’s still covered with wall dust and bruises.

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” He sniffles. “I know how much you wanted to take him in. It’s not fair for you to keep hiding.”

“It’s not. For either of us.”

We let those words linger. In a perfect world, we wouldn’t have to worry about any of this. But we went into this relationship accepting that risk. I’d rather have that than not have it at all.

“Is…” Barry sits up and rubs his eyes. “Is Dex okay?”

“He’s staying with the Mach n’ Van crew. He really likes it there.”

“Oh, so, you’ve made up your mind. He’s not coming here.”

I take a deep breath. It’s not about making up my mind, it’s about doing what’s right for him.

“Nope.”

“Alright.” Barry caresses my face, tracing his hand along the ridges of my snout. “What’re you going to do when you see him tomorrow?”

I expect Dex will be pissed off at me. I deserve it.

“I don’t know.”

“Aw.”

Barry hugs me. I hug him back, gripping him tight. I’m afraid that if I let him go, he’ll disappear. I just count my lucky stars that he’s in my life.

“When…” Barry starts, his voice muffled by my neck. “When are you next free?”

One good thing I can say about the humans running Mach n’ Van is that they force me to have breaks. So many places I’d worked for in the past seemed to forget that Pokemon suffer burnout too. “I have the weekend off after tomorrow.”

“Let’s do something nice.” He kisses the groove beneath my snout. “We both need it.”

I hum in agreement. A part of me dreads going out again, knowing that we’ll still have to hide everywhere we go, but it’s better than nothing.

“Oh, and do you fancy a takeaway tonight? Maybe we could watch a show too.”

Not gonna lie, I was looking forward to Barry cooking tonight, but I feel we could both do with some comfort food.

“Sure.”

We spend the evening gorging on Cozy Fried Kitchen with a few beers while we binge-watch one of Barry’s animes. Unsurprisingly, it features anthropomorphic Pokemon as the main characters (Barry had to explain to me what anthropomorphic meant when I first started watching the show with him), featuring a Lycanroc who falls for a Lopunny in some high school setting. It took me some time to get invested, but I’ve warmed up to it, especially since their interspecies relationship hits a little close to home with me and Barry together.

I try to cuddle up to him like nothing happened, but he feels stiff in my grasp. That’s okay. We’re both still feeling raw, so I give him the space he needs. I soon forget about today’s worries with all the fattening fast food and lagers in the mix. I drift in and out of sleep next to Barry before I call it a night.

---

I try to shake off last night’s weariness as I drive back up to the Mach n’ Van base. I’ve been in a funk ever since I’ve woken up. Maybe it was the booze. Not just that, as soon as I step out of my car to greet the crew who have been running laps around the field, they all look at me as if I’m walking around naked.

“What’s up?” I say, nursing my head. “I’m not late, am I?”

“Nah.” Rip takes a swig out of a water bottle. “You’re early, if anything.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Rip shrugs. Dex almost backs into him as he stops running.

“Hey, kid,” I say, forcing a smile. “Looks like you’ve been through quite a jog, huh?”

“Mmm.” Dex fiddles with his hands. Dextrous.

“How’d you get on last night?” I ask, as if I totally didn’t dump his ass here.

Dex looks off into the distance, past central Circhester’s buildings, over to a set of fields. Just faintly, I can see the grey exterior of Fairweather Daycare atop one of the hills. Then back to the house.

“Good,” he says at last. “Everyone’s really nice. Rip sparred with me. Hammer’s a great cook. I’ve never had eggs on toast before.”

His eyes wander as he says this. I want to reach out to him, pat him on the shoulder, try to act like a dad, like I wanted to when I took him in yesterday. But I can’t promise him that.

“Glad to hear you’re getting on well.”

Dex nods and continues his laps. Rip does the same, passing him his water bottle mid run. I don’t know what to do now since I’m not joining the crew on their drills. Hammer waves at me from the annex kitchen window. When I pop in to see him, he’s washing up a mountain of dishes.

“And Mister Puff Puff arrives,” he says as he’s scrubbing a frying pan. “You usually don’t come in here in the morning.”

“It’s only ten minutes before we start,” I say. “What’s up, anyway?”

“Just wanted to talk to you about Dex. The anklebiter’s great. I’ve never seen such a well behaved Machop. Didn’t hurt that he really liked my stew either.”

“Good.”

I wait by the door, expecting him to say something else. I don’t know what I’m expecting exactly. I could just smoke back in my car and wait it out until I’m expected to drive them up to their first job.

“What?”

His lips crease into a frown. “Dex was kind of upset.”

I knew it.

“I get why. He doesn’t like to talk about his parents, but I can tell it’s still raw for him. We’re a good team, but we can’t fill a hole like that in him.” He scoffs. “It’s not like this is new for me. Plenty of Machoke come to us not having anywhere else to go. All I can do is just give them that space until they’re ready.”

I hum in agreement. This isn’t just a place where Machoke train themselves, it’s a place that they have somewhere to call home for the moment. Supposedly. It’s never felt like a home to me.

“That anklebiter’s gonna find it really tough, though. More than anything, he needs someone to rely on. He was expecting that from you.”

I freeze. I know that I let him down. I can’t disagree with Hammer, but I don’t have a choice in the matter.

“You shouldn’t have led him on. You can’t promise something and then break it, especially not to a kid like that.”

I know. I know that more than anyone. But Hammer doesn’t know what I’ve had to go through. He can’t know. And I don’t want him to know, even though I’ve lumped this situation onto him. I just stare at him, clawing for any power I can get in this situation.

“Why don’t you say something, Glen?” Soap suds drip from Hammer’s hands as he grabs a tea towel. The hands on his back arms curl into fists. “Jeez, you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t wanna, but I’m just trying to give you some advice.”

“Well, Mister Nosy,” I snarl, “I’m not asking for your opinion, am I?”

I don’t mean to say it. The words just come out. That’s enough for Hammer to throw the damp cloth at my face.

“I’ll see you in the van,” he grumbles as he storms out. I’m left there holding the limp, dishwater-smelling tea towel.

My hands shake as I pull another cigarette out of my pocket. I’ve still got five minutes. I can’t go back to work until I get my fix again.

---

Me and Barry spent most of today together. We wandered around Circhester’s parks, he bought me lunch at one of my favourite sandwich shops in the city (sourdough!), and we both made plans to see new gigs next month. It’s been good.

Now I’m at this board game cafe with Barry’s friends: someone else from his workplace who looks like a lumberjack with his flannel shirt, and his boyfriend, who’s as thin as a Bellsprout. Barry thought it would be nice for me to befriend some humans. This would make it a double date if we actually made each other official.

I get on well with his group, at first. I don’t like how humans always ask each other what they do, as if the most important thing about them is their work, but I try to make my delivery driver job sound as glamorous as possible with all the places we go to, also talking about some of my problem customers so they know it’s not all Slurpuff and rainbows.

The lumberjack guy talks about his marketing role while his lanky boyfriend works in IT or some shit. I still don’t know what their jobs are actually about by the time we start playing a card game based off The Five Towers, some fantasy book about an Alakazam facing an evil human empire. It’s simple enough until it devolves into an argument about how much the latest show sucked and how many plot holes there are. Then they start rambling about another fantasy game where you kill hordes of mutated Rattata and I completely lose the thread of the conversation.

I literally can’t pay attention to what I’m supposed to do in this game while they’re talking about another game with all this super-complicated lore. After a while, I go through the motions, playing to the best of my ability in silence while Barry and his friends talk each other’s ears off.

I’m happy for Barry. He’s got friends that like what he likes, and I respect that. It’s just not my group. It reminds me of being back at the Mach n’ Van, except I at least get what they’re talking about.

I wonder what Dex would think of this place, and if he’d like the vanilla milkshakes here or the simpler games developed for Pokemon in mind. I think back to what Hammer said about Dex being upset, and how the rest of the day went where I barely spoke to Dex at all, then my argument with Barry the other night.

‘Maybe it’s better that Dex didn’t come with you.’

Now I just want to go home. I don’t want to leave Barry, but we already had a good day between us. Why ruin that by overstaying my welcome?

“I’m going back,” I say, shuffling out of the booth. “See you later.”

I want to kiss Barry goodbye, but I merely nod at him as I head out, lighting up on the way home.

---

I thought a drive along Route 8 would’ve lifted my spirits. I’ve been through these roads during my time as a cargo driver. There’s a comforting familiarity as I traverse these bends that give way to ruins.

Like the Hero’s Bath, these are remnants of civilisations long lost. Battlements, forts, and rock formations lay weathered on both sides of these roads. On one end, there’s untouched wilderness, where wild Rhyhorn and Sandaconda fight for territory amidst endless stretches of moss. On the other end, there’s the trainer’s path, where ladders and stairs have been erected around the dilapidated stone structures to give people and their Pokemon safe travels on their journey, while Falinks roll through the tunnels beneath them.

Both sides are fenced off to us, the people who actually have places to be. Except I have nowhere to go except back home to Circhester.

I stop at a vantage point where other drivers have parked near a petrol station and cafe. I chomp on a chicken salad sandwich as I look down at the trainer’s route that stretches for miles, one of the few places you can get a good look at the closed-off path without going into it yourself. In the distance, I can just barely make out a teenaged trainer hi-fiving their Noivern after coming out victorious.

Sometimes, I bask in the good ol’ days where I was just a Machop who didn’t know any better, so desperate to prove himself. Some days, I can imagine a life where I still travelled these routes with some wide-eyed trainer.

On days like these, I just see what could’ve been, and what isn’t.

I bring my unfinished sandwich with me in the car. When I make it back home, there’s still many hours left in the day. Barry’s practising his guitar in his room. I’ll leave him to it. I just veg out to Natuflix while I drink throughout the day. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do when neither of us have made plans to go out.

It’s hard to focus, even as this human’s jumping between platforms on this elaborate obstacle course. It's hard to ignore Barry swearing at missing a note when we live in the same house together, even with his bedroom door closed. The show becomes background noise as I browse my phone.

The PokeJobs system sounds good. They’re meant to test whether or not Pokemon can enter the workforce, as if Pokemon haven’t been helping humans with jobs since the dawn of time. I had to stumble for ages before I made a good living, so anything that gives Pokemon a leg up sounds good. Then I find out they’ve stopped trialling it for the year. Oh well.

Then I type ‘Pokemon-human relationships’ into Rootom. Right away, there’s some news article on a scandal where a Sinnohan gym leader got banned from the league for being in a relationship with their Lucario.

The news only talks about Pokemon falling for the trainers, or the other way around. I grimace just thinking about it. Pokemon and their trainers shouldn’t mix. The power balance is skewed from the start.

But what about Pokemon like me who just meet humans naturally, like I did with Barry?

I don’t remember how many cans I get through in my doom-scrolling haze, just that I feel fluid, like water. I want Barry. He’s got his headphones plugged into his amp. Music can wait, right?

“Hey!” Barry says, half-yelling, half-chuckling. “You’re very cuddly, aren’t you?”

“Uh huh,” I mumble, and kiss his neck. “Wanna snuggle.”

“Aw, c’mere, you.”

He drops what he’s doing and joins me in bed. He feels so amazing. I love the hair on his chest, and his curves, and that pudgy stomach of his. He’s been told he’s fat all his life. I want him to know he’s loved.

Barry touches my pecs. Yes, this feels right. I want this, even when I know I shouldn’t. His broad hands trail down to my stomach and he pinches where my abs should be. All that’s there is a piece of flab.

I’ve gained weight after all the drinking, smoking, and the food I’ve eaten, even though I still exercise occasionally. Barry says he likes me for who I am, but is this what Barry sees staring back at him, this flabby husk of a Machoke?

The room feels so hot. Booze, maybe? No. I feel sick.

I stagger to the bathroom and lock it behind me, then reach for the sink.

“Glen!” Barry calls through the door. “Are you okay?”

“Just–” I take in a sharp breath–”just a minute. Please.”

I take a few deep breaths, then snarl at the Machoke staring back at me through the mirror. That big snout of mine makes any selfie I take with Barry look stupid. My purple skin makes me look as pale as death. These fucking red streaks across my arms look like fish gills.

The bathroom spins around me. My clammy hands slip against the porcelain of the sink. I’ve dealt with this before, these episodes. Barry’s been so helpful getting me to cope with them, so I should be over this by now. Then why–

‘Maybe it’s better that Dex didn’t come with you.’

Barry didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t even entertain the thought, but it is better. Dex’d never have to see me like this.

I spit at my own reflection, hoping it’ll go away. It doesn’t.

---

The weekend’s already over and it’s back to work. The crew’s fine talking among themselves, and Dex seems a little more cheerful without me interrupting things, so I stay quiet.

Work ticks on like it always does. Drive here. Drive there. Help occasionally. Smoke when I’m not needed. Come home. Barry’s there, and we still cuddle, but there’s this… air between us. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like a piece of food that’s gone mouldy in the pantry but neither of us can find where it is.

The next evening after work, Barry and I watch TV in silence. It’s not as if we always need to talk, not that I really want to talk about my humdrum existence. But as we turn in for the night, Barry sleeps on his side, facing away from me. I ask what’s wrong, and he tells me he’s anxious, but I don’t know how to help him, especially with everything I’m dealing with myself. So I just spoon him and hope that’s enough.

---

The next day passes, I do my work, clock off and get home. Barry’s not there. He told me he wanted to see his friends from the other night again.

I summon enough willpower to make myself a stir-fry with mushrooms, and it doesn’t taste half bad. It’s nice cooking for myself for once. I wonder what it’d be like to cook for the Mach n’ Van crew, or Dex. He’s probably having a nice stir fry as we speak.

I stare at my half-eaten dinner while the clock ticks on. I can’t find any videos to play on my phone while I dine alone, and give up after a minute of searching. I stab a charred mushroom, once, twice, three times. Then I fling the fork across the room so hard that it bends against a kitchen cupboard.

This sucks. I have nobody to talk to, except Barry. Yet that coworker of his gets to walk around freely with his boyfriend.

I swear I’m the only Pokemon in the world who has to deal with this.

---

I don’t even say hello to Hammer the next morning, and he doesn’t say hello back. I think he’s stopped trying to be friendly with me. Dex is all cheerful to everyone else, but he’s weird around me now too.

I don’t know how long I can stay here while Dex is in the crew. I never should’ve taken him in. I never should’ve even considered raising anyone in the position I’m in. I’m an idiot for even thinking I deserve him.

The day goes by in a blur, and I drive back to the Mach n’ Van base, up the steep hill that’s surrounded by trees and Stantler crossing signs. I should focus on getting us up that hill, but the crew’s talking to Dex.

“...a Conkeldurr made that house?” Dex asks.

“Yeah!” Rip says. “They’re all, like, architects and stuff!”

“Not all of them,” Hammer butts in. “You say that like a Pokemon can just up and design some mansion by themselves.”

“Some of them can! Shows we can do some construction!”

“I’ve done construction before,” Hammer grumbles. “Not my sort of thing, the way they treat Machoke there.”

“Master Pillar makes these statues back home,” Dex chimes in.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh. She likes takin’ these big chunks of stone and hammerin’ them. Dunno why she makes them. But she got me to try it. It was nice.”

“This Master Pillar sounds important,” Hammer says.

“Yeah…”

Dex’s voice lowers. He sounds sad, like he does whenever he talks about home, but my focus is on the road, not him or anyone else.

“I told, um…” He trails off again. I allow myself one glance at the rearview mirror, and I see him looking back at me. “She’s kind. Like you. She said I didn’t wanna go if I wasn’t ready. But I… a trainer– my parents–”

Dex’s voice cracks, then he starts sobbing.

“Hey…” Hammer pipes up. “Don’t cry, lil’ fella. What’s up?”

“I wanna—” he hiccups–”wanna go home…”

I’m at the last bend on the slope while Dex is crying his eyes out. There are a set of sturdy trees in front of me.I need to keep my eyes on the road. I can’t crash here. But it’s hard to see when my eyes are misting up so much.

Dex… He’s got nowhere else to go. I’d know what that’s like, more than anyone. And I just dumped him at my workplace.

I look back. Dex’s got his face buried in his hands as Hammer rubs his shoulder. I need to stop the car now, man the hell up, and be there for Dex. Salvage this somehow. I can make things right, I have to, I need to–

“GLEN!”

Hammer’s scream jerks me back to the front window as a pair of Stantler sprint from nearby bushes.

I tell myself I need to make the turn, but my body doesn’t register those thoughts. I swerve the wrong direction in the path of the Stantler, and they run, but I’m headed right towards the tree in front of me. I slam the brakes, but not fast enough to–

My teeth clack as we crash.

There’s an awful stillness in the van. Nobody’s hurt. Dex is fastened to his booster seat. But he’s all wide-eyed, probably in shock. He hasn’t spent long in a car, and I hoped that he’d never have to experience being in a crash.

I’ve been in a couple of crashes before, caused by humans who didn’t look where they were going. I’ve never caused one myself, let alone with a goddamn kid in the car.

Hammer glares daggers at me. He knows this shouldn’t have happened. He knows it’s my fault. I’m done. Done…

Oh Arceus above, what have I done?

Shit, everything’s so hot; I’m dying in here. I stumble out of the van and into the wilderness, hurtling towards nothing, towards something, just anywhere but that fucking van. Thistles and brambles whip my arms, my feet twist in odd positions on these uneven hills, and my chest burns, yet still, I run, I have to, I have to get out of there, I have to get out of here, have to get out of this–

I trip and hit the dirt, snout first. I see stars and taste mud. When I come to, I’m on some sort of hoof-beaten path. Wildflowers grow around the tracks, as if a stampede has forced the roots to part. And right in front of me, a bevy of Stantler bob their heads.

“Intruder!” one growls

“Get out!” another growls, stamping their feet.

“They almost killed me!” the couple I near-missed yell in unison. “They’re the enemy!”

I can make out what they’re saying, but their speech sounds more animalistic than any Pokemon I’m used to hearing, more coarse, more limited. These are wild Pokemon, through and through.

I get to my knees, raising my bruised arms to try and intimidate them, but they don’t back away. Deep down, I know whatever I do won’t work. I’m outmatched. I can’t stop staring at their antlers either. They’re mesmerising. I know that’s their defense against predators, but at some point, I stop caring and feel myself being sucked into those black orbs. They feel like they hold so much power. Not like me.

The buck charges at me, antlers first. I don’t care. If I die here, then that’s fine.

But that doesn’t happen. Hammer happens. He pushes the Stantler by its antlers, his bare feet kicking up clumps of mud as he tries to anchor himself. Once he finds his footing, he lunges forward with enough force that it flips the buck on its back.

The bevy bleat and bark in distress.

“You monster!” the doe screams.

“Get him!”

Two of the four charge in at once, but Hammer dodges one of them, and punches the other in the side with so much force that it crashes into a tree. The other attacker almost steadies itself, but Hammer uses all four arms to pick it up by its rump and throw it at the other two Stantler. One of them cushions the fall of the other, and they both topple to the ground. Only the doe is left standing.

“Make like a tree and get lost, all of you!” he yells, beating his chest. “If you ever charge at us again or cross the road without looking, I’ll turn you into venison!”

The Stantler stagger to their feet. The buck hobbles back to his doe, only for her to turn her head as they disappear into the forest.

Hammer did all of that. And here I thought he was huffing his own fumes the whole time. He turns back to me without even needing to take a breather.

“Hammer–” I start, only to get a knuckle sandwich from him. I tumble to the ground, tasting my own nosebleed. “Why the fuck did you do that?!”

“Because you’re a huge pain in my rear!” Hammer shouts. “You’ve been acting like a huge jerk all week, and now you almost get us killed? Twice?! Is anything even happening in that thick skull of yours?”

I don’t have the energy to lash out at him this time. He’s right.

“Get up and start walking. As soon as we get back home, I’m getting your butt fired.”

I haven’t heard that ‘f’ word in ages. Fired. Sometimes, it comes with relief. Other times, it’s meant a diet of instant noodles for weeks on end. Even though we’re both working, it would be a blow to Barry if I stopped.

Yet, right now, this isn’t about the job. I was worried I’d lose it if I ever talked about my relationship, but I’ve got nothing left to lose. Hammer should at least know why I’ve been such a shithead to him and Dex.

Just as Hammer turns to stomp off away from the forest, I take in a deep breath.

“I’m seeing a human.”

Hammer stops. My blood turns cold. I’ve just said it. I don’t feel relieved. I feel like sinking into the mud.

“I’ve been with him for two years.” The words just tumble out despite my gnawing dread. “He’s not my trainer. We just met at a gig. We wanted to raise Dex together.”

I can’t read Hammer’s expression with his back turned to me.

“That’s all I wanted. Something to look forward to. Someone like Dex. And I’ve fucked it up.”

I dig both my dirt-crusted hands into my arms. So many things race through my mind, but my throat feels like sandpaper and I can’t get anything out.

Hammer turns. His face is blank. I thought he would’ve been frothing at the mouth.

“You didn’t think of telling me this before?” he asks.

I blink. “What?”

“Seriously, I knew you were hiding something.” His shoulders sag. “Yes, I’m Mister Nosy. We’ve been working all this time, heck, even longer than before you met this human, and you can’t even trust me with that?”

“I thought you’d hate me.” I sigh. “It’s not like you’d understand what it’s like.”

“Get over yourself.” He snorts. “Jeez, some of the stories I’ve heard from the Machoke I’ve taken in would make your skin crawl.”

“Really?”

“Well, it’s not as if you’ve made an effort to get to know any of the crew. We’re supposed to be a team, y’know.” His eyes flash in realisation. “Oh… is this the human I called a weirdo?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Well, sorry.”

My grip slackens, my arms dead weights. I don’t say anything. Hammer doesn’t either. The moment is still as wind rustles leaves overhead, birds chirp, and Stantler hooves beat in the distance.

“You know, Glen, I thought you were nuts for wanting to raise Dex on your own. But you’re even more nuts for wanting to raise him with a human.”

“That’s why I can’t take him in.” I get to my sore knees. “I really wanted to. Still want to. And my human– I mean, Barry’s so nice. He’s got so much to give. I want to give something back to someone like Dex who deserves a chance. Not that I can do much now.”

“And you love this human? You trust him with Dex?”

“I mean, yeah, he’s fun to be around, he’s a great cook, he’s good with kids–”

“Okay, I don’t need the whole list.”

Hammer takes in a deep breath. I can see it travel down his neck and into his bulging chest. I admit, I’m jealous of his body. That might be the reason why I’ve been so cold to him.

He looks up. It’s getting dark.

“Glen.” He approaches me. “I know I’ve given you a lot of advice you never asked for, but I suggest you pick yourself up, apologise to Dex and invite him to your place.”

“I thought you didn’t want him around my crummy flat.”

“Shut up a sec, Glen,” he says as his back hands gesticulate. “I said it was gonna be tough. I didn’t say it wasn’t doable. I mean, what do I know? I’ve never rented before.”

“But how do I tell Dex about Barry?”

“I dunno. You’ve brought this on yourself. But if you’re gonna get involved in his life, and if you really wanna help him or give him a place he can call home, then do it. If he doesn’t like you being with a human, he’ll find someone else. At least it shows you’ve made an effort.”

It takes me some time to process what he’s saying, and I still can’t quite believe what I’m hearing. I have too many questions I want to ask, but that doesn’t matter as Hammer’s offering me his hand. I look him up and down. He’s nicked with little cuts from the brambles and thistles too.

I take it, and he pulls me up with his firm grip, then pats my back. But he doesn’t let go. He’s hugging me.

I can feel his warmth, just like Barry’s. It’s almost too much. I feel like crying, but I know that the last thing Hammer needs is another blubbering mess on his hands, so I keep it in and let go.

“You good?” he asks, to which I nod. “Good. Then let’s get back.”

We follow the hoof trail back to where I crashed the van. The rest of the gang is doing stretches on the side of the road. Dex is sitting on the bank, pulling up blades of grass. He looks up at me, then looks back down. Everyone else is giving me a hard stare, expecting me to work my magic. The front of the van is all dinged up. It’s not totalled, as it only bent the front, but there’s smoke billowing from the front. The radiator’s busted. One other skill that got me through life was the ability to fix cars, but I can’t fix this.

“We need to get it towed,” I say.

There’s a collective groan.

“Awww!” Rip throws his head back. “I’m gonna miss the Rex Revolver match!”

“Quit your whining,” Hammer snarls. “Glen, make yourself useful and tell me how far we’ve got to the base.”

I type in the address on our maps app. “A one minute drive.”

Of course, we were literally a minute away before the crash. Just my luck. It’s going to take about half an hour at the least for a tow driver to come, with how remote the Mach n’ Van base is.

Without even stopping, Hammer single-handedly pushes the van back onto the road.

“Alright, everyone, help me push this up!”

The crew hops to it right away, even Rip. With Hammer’s coordination, they’re able to turn it to face the hill. All they need to do is push it.

In all my time working, I’ve never seen anything like this. I know we’re strong, but I didn’t know we were that strong together. I’d say it’s inspiring if I still had that sort of power. The only one left behind is Dex, who’s still sitting on the grass.

I sit beside him, tucking my knees to my chest. I don’t quite know how to make it up to him. I don’t know how I can. But I need to try.

Dex breathes in and out. I breathe in and out with him. After a while, it feels like we’re in sync. That’s a good opportunity for me to speak up.

“Hammer told me you were mad at me the other day.”

“Uh huh..” Dex sniffles and wipes his bloodshot eyes. “You’re mean.”

I deserve that. “I’m sorry. I should’ve checked in to see how you were doing.”

“You’re mean to the Machoke too. They always say you ignore them. They just wanna talk.”

I sigh. “I know that now.”

He stands up and punches my shoulder. Ow. The kid can actually pack a mean punch, though I don’t show it hurts. I can’t be mad at him. He gasps at my bloody nose.

“Your face.”

I wipe my dried blood with a handkerchief. “Hammer gave me a good telling off.”

“Good.” He crosses his arms and turns his head away.

“I’m sorry, Dex. I’m really sorry, I so badly wanted to be your dad–”

“I don’t want new parents.” Even though it must hurt for him to say, he keeps it together. “I just don’t wanna be left behind.”

“You won’t. You have Hammer and the crew.”

Dex still doesn’t turn. I sigh, knowing he needs to hear me say this.

“And you have me. I want you in my life even if I might not be your dad, Dex. You’re great. I’m not gonna give up on you.”

I’m on my knees, almost begging for him to hear me out.

“I didn’t take you in because I was afraid you’d be unhappy with me.” I try to smile, even though it hurts. “But I was being an idiot.”

Dex turns, though he’s still cross with me.

“We never got to have dinner together. I want to show you my place first. There’s someone very special I want you to meet too. He plays music. I know you like music too. I think you’ll like each other.

His shoulders relax.

“You don’t have to stay. You may not want to. But I want to give you a choice, Dex. It’s your life.”

“My life.” He blinks, and looks back up at me. Then he looks at the van. “Should we help them?”

“Yeah.”

Dex steps forward, about to go with the crew, but he turns back to me, tilting his head. “When can I come around?”

He still wants to see us. See me. But he’s got to make up his mind about Barry yet.

“How about tomorrow? We can do that Bunnelby stew.”

He only gives a slight smile, but it’s enough. “Sounds good.”

Dex joins the crew pushing the van uphill. I join them too, thinking I’ll just be dead weight. They’re handling it just fine. But they ever so slightly advance up the hill quicker with me around.

---

We somehow push it all the way up to the driveway before collapsing in a panting heap. That’s probably the most exercise I’ve gotten in a while. I can’t imagine how Hammer feels, as even he’s sprawled out on the lawn, huffing and puffing.

The human owners run over to us. The man, pushing fifty, handles most of the logistics, sorting out van repairs and renovations for the lodging, and is the closest to Hammer. The woman, firmly in her fifties, is the brains of the operation, getting customers for us, sorting out pay, and dealing with the administrative stuff I’m glad I don’t have to deal with. Together, they’re a freaking power couple.

“What happened?” the man yells. “Are you guys alright?”

I lazily wave a hand up.

“We crashed–” I say in between breaths–”blame the Stantler.”

“I told them to get those things off the bloody road!”

“Radiator’s busted too.”

The woman huffs. “That’ll cost me more than an arm. Oh well, glad you made it back.”

The man investigates the van and checks on Hammer while the woman goes back into the house. I get to my feet and pat my muddy clothes. I so badly need a shower and a smoke. It’d be so tempting to go back to my place and crash, but I don’t even know if I have a job after this.

Hammer gets up before the rest do. He signs something to the human with all four hands, and the human signs back at staggering speeds. So they don’t need to speak to communicate with one another. Are they talking about me? The human’s checking the van, so he isn’t on my ass about what happened.

Hammer’s about to go back in the house, but I tail after him, stopping him by the annex door.

“What do you want, Mister Stalker?” he says, gesturing to his mud-caked legs. “I’m filthy.”

I know I should leave him to shower off, but I just can’t hang around while my job is in jeopardy.

“So, what happens now? With the job, I mean.”

“Well, the van’s fine. Nobody got hurt. I expect to see you tomorrow.”

“I thought you were gonna fire me.”

“I’m well within my right to.” He huffs. “Whatever. Just don’t screw this up next time.”

Somehow, I’m relieved, even if it isn’t a job I’m over the moon about taking. “Thank you. So that’s it today?”

“Yeah, unless you wanna hang around for paella tonight, not that you have to.” He grins. “I hope your boyfriend isn’t holding you hostage.”

“Of course he isn’t.”

“I’m only joking.” He chuckles and slaps my back before he heads back inside. I’m not that annoyed when he does it this time.

I look out to the crew who are playing football in the garden as if nothing happened. Huh, I’ve only seen them pull that ball out a few times. Dex is standing to the side, tilting his head at this strange game they’re playing, but Rip kicks the ball to him and Dex passes it back. They go back and forth, and Rip points to the field, probably showing the kid the ropes.

I don’t need to stay here. I’m seeing everyone else tomorrow anyway. I don’t even know if I’m good at football. Yet I think back to my outing with Barry and his nerdy human friends, and know I don’t belong with them on that board game table.

I don’t quite know what I’m going to do tonight, but I hope I’ll make my mind up on the phone to Barry.

“Hey, Glen!” he says. He sounds happy to hear from me.

“Yo.” I take a deep breath. Might as well tear the bandaid off. “So, long story short, I’ve spoken to Dex about coming to our place. He wants dinner tomorrow, if possible.”

“Wait, what?” Barry’s voice rises. “So you are inviting him around?”

“Yeah.” Oh, right, again, I made a decision on his behalf when I called the thing off to begin with. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just…” He hums. “What made you change your mind?”

Should I tell him I spilled my guts out to Hammer? No, not yet.

“My mind never changed. I always wanted him around. I was just being a dumbass.”

“You’re not. Don’t worry. It’ll be nice to see him.”

“It will be.” Another deep breath. Deep breaths, one two. There’s so much I want to get off my chest. “Barry. Things have been weird between us all week.”

“It’s been a weird week.” He sighs. “You know it’s been the usual for me, but I think I needed some time out of the house. I’m feeling better for it, though.”

“So things are still cool between us?”

“Yeah? And yourself?”

I mull over what to say. I never know how to answer that, like those questions he asks about how work went. But talking to Hammer solved things. Why can’t I do the same with Barry?

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, I’ve just been worried–”

“I’m still sorry about what I said the other night. I don’t think we really resolved that still.”

A beat, then Barry hums.

“It’s okay. I said some hurtful stuff too.”

“You did. I really don’t appreciate the comment about Dex. I know you didn’t mean it, but that’s fucked me up all week, if I’m being honest.”

“I figured. I was trying not to beat myself up about it all week.” He sighs. “If it helps, I think you would be a great dad.”

I try not to let those words sting me. I can’t be a dad to Dex, but maybe I can be the next best thing.

“Okay.” I flex my bruised knuckles. “And I’m sorry again for punching the wall. I thought I was better than that.”

“It’s fine, we’ll cover it up.”

I don’t think the landlord would agree, but that’s beside the point.

“Dex wants Bunnelby stew, by the way. I didn’t get to tell you that before, but that’s his favourite dish.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I like a good challenge.”

“Looking forward to it.”

I think Barry fancies burgers tonight. It hits the spot sometimes even though it’s gross and fatty. But honestly? I fancy something with rice. I haven’t had a dish like that since Barry’s curry. Whatever Hammer’s cooking up in the kitchen smells gorgeous and onion-y. Dex would like it.

“And don’t worry about dinner tonight. The Machamp here’s got his signature paella.”

 

[Namohysip]

Ah, I missed your urban fantasy style of writing Pokémon. This'll be fun to read through.

Hey Neb! I'm here to read through everything that's currently out for this one, and I've had a craving for some urban fantasy again. With it being a Machoke, though, I imagine that most of this will be very low fantasy, with maybe just a feat of strength or two being the most we see. Knowing your style and the general summary, seems like we're going to have a focus on interpersonal relationships most of all.

The first scene does a good job of depicting our main character as someone who doesn't totally feel like he belongs, while trying to make his way in the world with some second-class undertones with how he thinks he's seen by others. The most prominent one is how he's seen when driving, and how he keeps expecting people to stop him or make him second guess.

And their general relationship is very cute. They love and care for each other, but I can also see the conflict in how it's sort of a forbidden thing despite how it's clear that Glen is at a human level. I think, in that way, it's a curious, mixed message that he wants to be seen "like a human" as opposed to a more general statement, like "like a person." Coming from the PMD perspective, "person" is actually used canonically to refer to fellow Pokémon now and then! Anyway, just an odd angle I spotted from Glen's perspective, which makes me wonder if that's a hint to a conflict later on.

I really like the idea of Fighting Pokémon communicating through punches and the like. Makes sense for their sort and the way it's built. I wonder if that communication language changes if you go to other regions or not.

I liked the interactions between Dex and Glen on the drive up and the way they seem to be of different worlds. Glen is certainly trying to understand him.

And then there's the awkward moment where Glen sees Barry right out in the open... well now it seems like at least one of the crew might be suspicious of what really happened and Glen has cold feet. Seems reasonable though I'm surprised he wasn't able to reply for so long to anything while out. That seems like almost the whole day.

You do a good job at presenting the way Pokémon live in this kind of society. The humans generally seem welcoming to an extent, but clearly see them as a bit out of place and kewa trustworthy of skilled labor. But at least they get room and board if they want it, since that was readily an option for Dex.

The confrontation between Glen and Barry was rough. It's hard to figure out the correlation between the punch and Pokémon instincts or something worse, but all things considered I think it's more clearly the former. A natural challenge for humans and Pokémon trying to understand each other.

The cooldown that followed with the many scene breaks helped show the passage of time flying by while also indicating that, yes, a lot of days passed. It didn't drag while also indicating that sort of monotony, without "saying" as much, until things reached their tipping point. And with the chapter eventually ending with a confrontation that nearly gets him fired, it was oddly natural despite how abrupt it was.

I felt in the same moment as Glen that there was really no use in hiding it when he was about to be out of the job. Maybe there were other options and venues where he could have been more cautious, but I think with the monotony before and the tension building up to that point, it made the most sense for him to finally speak up after all that time. In terms of the emotional climax of the story, I'd argue it was right there when he let it all out. What follows was falling action and how he had support after all, even if it was a mixed bag of it.

Overall, I liked this story so far. It's got a good balance of the bleak situation Glen and Barry are in with their forbidden love going on, while also showing that they can find some light in it anyway despite the envy of those who don't need to hide. Dex is the key factor in how they need to find a way to open up without openings so far that it blows up in their faces. It's a risk, but you can really tell that Glen and Barry are restless to find a way to "validate" their relationship with something tangible, while also trying to help someone in need in the process, in this case Dex.

I imagine there's going to be perhaps one more chapter to conclude things, and I hope it works out well for them. Curious to see where this one goes!

 

[canisaries]

Hiiiii! I'm back again for Chapter 3.

Before I know it, my fist hits the wall behind the settee. Oh, shit. There’s a dent in it now.

kyyyyle

My face feels hot. I’m crying, weeping. All the things I’ve tried to express to him, everything I’ve held in all this time, just melts out of my eyes and I join Barry on the floor, hugging him and kissing him and sobbing into his chest. I don’t want him to leave me. He’s too important to me. I’ve got nothing else. Not even Dex now.

This feels a bit sudden? Like it seems like he goes from angry to crying in two seconds. I think it can be sudden, but I would have expected the narration to acknowledge how sudden it is in that case.

We spend the evening gorging on Cozy Fried Kitchen with a few beers while we binge-watch one of Barry’s animes. Unsurprisingly, it features anthropomorphic Pokemon as the main characters (Barry had to explain to me what anthropomorphic meant when I first started watching the show with him), featuring a Lycanroc who falls for a Lopunny in some high school setting. It took me some time to get invested, but I’ve warmed up to it, especially since their interspecies relationship hits a little close to home with me and Barry together.

this sounds familiar....... but i cant put my Beastars on it.......

I stagger to the bathroom and lock it behind me, then reach for the sink.

YAY HES PREGNANT

That big snout of mine makes any selfie I take with Barry look stupid.

“Intruder!” one growls

Missing period.

“Because you’re a huge pain in my rear!” Hammer shouts. “You’ve been acting like a huge jerk all week, and now you almost get us killed? Twice?! Is anything even happening in that thick skull of yours?”
I don’t have the energy to lash out at him this time. He’s right.

Missing row change.

Hammer gets up before the rest do. He signs something to the human with all four hands, and the human signs back at staggering speeds.

pokesign :OOOO

“My mind never changed. I always wanted him around. I was just being a dumbass”

Missing period.

---

This was a really good chapter! Aside from that one spot I mentioned, I thought the progression and transitions of things were good. Like, how the argument got more heated, how Dex and Glen got more distressed during that car ride, just kind of everything?

I actually forgot that this story was a few-parter so I thought it was oddly climactic for something so little into the story, but after relearning that context, this makes way more sense. I do wonder what the final chapter, shorter as you mentioned, will do, and if it'll feel like it holds on the story for too long... but I know I'm still gonna have a great time reading it.

That's all I got this time! Like said, looking forward to the final part. Good luck with writing it!

 

[NebulaDreams]

@Namohysip

Wowsers, it’s been ages! I wasn’t expecting you to pick this up but I’m really glad you did. I’m glad you’ve liked it so far even though there isn’t far to go, so I don’t have a ton to reply to.

I really like the idea of Fighting Pokémon communicating through punches and the like. Makes sense for their sort and the way it's built. I wonder if that communication language changes if you go to other regions or not.

Glad you like it! It’s a carry over from the old version of I, Isobel and something I hope I can expand on when I get back to it. I haven’t actually thought about how it would carry over to other regions but the idea is that it’s not a one size fits all situation for fighting types. I feel like Spiteful Murkrow would probably have an interesting take on it given their focus on different languages.

You do a good job at presenting the way Pokémon live in this kind of society. The humans generally seem welcoming to an extent, but clearly see them as a bit out of place and kewa trustworthy of skilled labor. But at least they get room and board if they want it, since that was readily an option for Dex.

Kewa? But yeah, it’s something I haven’t quite addressed in the scope of this story but hope I showed enough of a range that there are more possibilities open to them.

The confrontation between Glen and Barry was rough. It's hard to figure out the correlation between the punch and Pokémon instincts or something worse, but all things considered I think it's more clearly the former. A natural challenge for humans and Pokémon trying to understand each other.

I’ll leave that to you, but I like how the ambiguity of that moment turned out.

@canisaries

This feels a bit sudden? Like it seems like he goes from angry to crying in two seconds. I think it can be sudden, but I would have expected the narration to acknowledge how sudden it is in that case.

I’ve added more to that section so hopefully it doesn’t feel as abrupt now!

this sounds familiar....... but i cant put my Beastars on it.......

Hmmmmmmmmm. All of this is more or less just to imply that Barry is a furry.

YAY HES PREGNANT

GODDAMN YOU CANIS, MY SIDES

Me: Not funny cani this is a totally serious moment.

Also me:

 

[NebulaDreams]

Author's Note: Sorry this part took an extra week to come out! I was planning on releasing it earlier since I already had chapter 4 written out, but when I received beta feedback for it, I realised that fundamental parts of the story had changed in a way that affected the ending I originally intended, so I had to rewrite most of it. I’m glad I did, since I didn’t want to risk putting out a disappointing ending. Thanks to @canisaries for giving this the once-over!

---

Part 4 - A Machop Eats Bunnelby Stew​

My pocket’s screaming. Dex is in the living room listening to Resurrection by Arceus Apostle; he seemed interested in that record in particular and it’s one of the more accessible albums in my collection, so I hope he’s not bored. Right now, Barry’s toiling away at his stew while I’m sitting here grabbing fistfuls of my jeans, trying not to smoke my nerves away.

“Glen?” Barry calls. “Come and help me a sec.”

I sigh and plod to the messy kitchen counter.

“How’s it looking?” I ask, as if I have any reason to doubt Barry’s cooking.

“Just about ready.”

Steam plumes as Barry removes the pot lid. A sea of golden-brown broth simmers in it, with islands of potato chunks and carrots poking out. Barry tries it, hums, and aims another spoonful at my mouth.

I stare at the spoon. Dex is still in the other room. I gently pry the spoon off of Barry’s hands and he deflates a little. I lift it to my mouth and… what else did I expect from him but perfection?

“It’s nice!” Barry perks up as I smack my mouth. “Very salty, though.”

“I mean, Bunnelby is gamey.”

“I didn’t know if you could even get it in the city.”

“There are butchers in Circhester.” He shrugs. “You can imagine they’re pretty tucked away, though. Kinda expensive, too–” he shakes his head–“anyway, we should dish up.”

I grunt an agreement and fetch the bowls for Barry to serve. It almost scalds my hands as we bring it to the dining table, then we sit opposite. Since we bought this table second-hand, we’ve used it a grand total of nine times for its actual purpose. The rest of the time, it’s been used for tabletop games. I hope we can use it more with Dex around.

He hasn’t agreed to anything yet. He might not after tonight. Telling Dex about Barry could go one of two ways, and I feel like it’ll go south, despite Hammer’s reassurance.

I can’t keep thinking about what-if’s, though; all that matters is the here and now. Deep breaths. I can do this.

“Dex?” I call. “Dinner’s ready!”

Five seconds later and he still hasn’t come. He probably can’t hear me through the blaring music, not that I can blame him since Phoenix’s Flight is playing. That’s the best song on an album full of bangers. One peek in the living room shows me Dex’s fully lost in the music, charging around the room and punching the air in an imaginary slam dance.

I know dinner’s ready, but I don’t have the heart to tell him to knock it off. This kid’s born for the freaking pit.

Dex notices me and stops to catch his breath. I turn the sound system down just a little.

“Hey, kid,” I say. “Stew’s on.”

His eyes sparkle beneath the ceiling lamp. He scoots past me, almost slipping on the kitchen tiles as he stops. Barry’s right there, waving at him.

“Hey, Dex, right?” Barry says. “Gosh, it’s nice to meet you at last!”

Dex squints. Right, I forget he probably can’t understand human speech that well, though he must recognise his own name.

“C’mon, join us while it’s hot,” I say in our own tongue. It’s weird to speak it around Barry, but that’s the least weird thing about this whole situation.

Dex climbs up to the seat next to me where the booster is, and leans to my side.

“That’s the weirdo human,” he whispers.

Of course that’s his first impression of Barry. Barry’s none the wiser as he fiddles with his beard. C’mon, man, say something. He doesn’t. I think he’s frozen up.

Whatever, I can’t wait for Barry to make the first steps here. I need to help both of them along the way.

“Dex, this is Barry. He’s–” I cut myself off, careful with what I’m about to say next–”this is that special someone I mentioned, the one that plays music.”

“Oh.” Dex fiddles with his hands. “I didn’t know you had a trainer.”

“He’s not,” I say more severely than I mean to.

So many people have made that mistake about us, including other Pokemon. At no point have we discussed that as a possibility, not even as a convenient way to introduce us to people who aren’t used to humans and Pokemon just being friends.

“Well,” I take the scalding bowl, “let’s try what he’s made for us.”

I start shovelling spoonfuls of Barry’s stew, and Barry does the same, though he shields his beard as he eats. Dex reluctantly joins in, forgoing the spoon and eating straight from the bowl. I’m not going to lecture him on table manners.

“Mmm,” Dex hums as he sips.

“Does he like it?” Barry asks.

Dex’s slurping fills the blanks. I take a meaty glob of Bunnelby mixed with chunks of veg. The saltiness of the meat mixes so well with the heartiness of the stew-soaked potatoes and the sweetness of the onions.

“Compliments to the chef,” I say as I point the spoon at Barry.

“Mmm hmm!” Dex slams the bowl down, leaving behind a stewy moustache. The kid’s finished half of it already. “He’s good. Some trainers cooked nice things, but not like this.” He tilts his head. “And he plays music?”

“He does. He wants to be a guitarist some day, but he has a little bit of stage fright. You still wanna be in a band, right?”

“Yes and no?” Barry dabs his mouth with some kitchen roll. “I like the idea, but I also like having control over my own music. It’s pretty easy to fill in drums with a DAW.”

I won’t bother explaining that last part to Dex. “He thinks about playing in a band sometimes.”

“A band?”

“Yeah, imagine having four Master Pillars playing different instruments.”

“Oh, okay.” At least he’s making eye contact with Barry now. Barry straightens his back too. I knew talking about music would get him to thaw.

“Did you like Arceus Apostle?” Barry asks.

I interpret, to which Dex nods.

“Good! I thought it would’ve been too heavy for you, but they’re one of the classics. Glen’s got good taste.”

I’ll have to get used to repeating the same thing twice, but it doesn’t seem to stop Dex talking to Barry as he’s leaning on the table.

“Did you two have a good day?” Barry asks.

Dex nods. “We went to this really big house, though it looked really empty even with all this stuff in it.”

“It’s one of those super minimalist houses, the types rich folks usually get.”

“Gotcha.” Barry grumbles. “I’m not a big fan of those, though Glen’s told me a few stories about the places he’s been to and they sound nicer. I hope you’re enjoying it at the Mach n’ Van.”

“It’s cool.” Dex glances between both of us. “So if you’re not his trainer, are you two friends?”

The chunks of Bunnelby sit like stones in my stomach, and I’m suddenly really thirsty, either that or my throat has shrivelled like a Cacnea. I’m the one who has to speak up. I’m the only one that can. But the words don’t come out.

Calloused fingertips brush my own. Barry’s reaching out across the table to hold my hand. In front of Dex. He’s always so warm.

Barry’s trying. I have to try too.

“Are you close friends?” Dex asks, staring at our hands.

I slowly nod. “You could say that.”

“How did you meet?”

“At one of those gigs I mentioned. The Cave.”

It’s still fresh in my mind. One night in between the supporting act and the headliner, Melting Nanab, I popped outside the entrance for a smoke. This was before more Pokemon started flocking to the club, so most humans gawked at me while I lit up. I had nobody else to talk to, but I’d spent so long enjoying my own company that I didn’t care.

Then I met Barry, back when he was a little chubbier and still on cigarettes. He asked me for a light since he forgot his. Nobody had asked me that before. We smoked next to each other in silence for a little bit, then he started complaining about the mixing. I had no idea what that was, but I knew the supporting band sounded like crap, so I asked him what he meant and he was happy to blab about how much reverb there was.

He never talked down to me even as he went into such technical detail. I was so used to humans doing that and being on my guard. And the way he looked at me as well with those kind, brown eyes; he just saw me the way I was. Not as a Machoke. As myself.

Even in this room, across the table, he still looks at me the same way. How on earth do I get Dex to understand that?

Dex searches both of us. What for? How our hands grip each other, perhaps? Or the way we just looked at each other, the way I look at Barry as if I can’t wait to pull him closer? Who knows? But Dex finds something there as realisation creeps up on his face.

“Oh.” He blinks. “Wait… you’re like, um, Tackle and Bait.”

“And who are they?”

“The Sawk and Throh in my dwelling. They’re nice and fish a lot, they’re always holding hands, and they look at each other like they’re both going crazy.” He frowns at Barry. “But he’s a human.”

I should’ve expected this. The stony feeling curdles into a stomach ache, which I try to suppress as Barry wrings my hand tighter. He’s got my back.

There is no best way. Just the most honest way. Besides, Dex deserves an explanation after putting two and two together like that. Sharp kid.

“Yeah, me and Barry are together. Like those Bait and Tackle guys.”

Dex’s frown stays etched on his face, one of confusion, which I’ll take over disgust.

“How does that work?”

I don’t even know what he means by that, but I’ll just roll with it. “I dunno. When we met at The Cave, we were just friends, at first. Then we really got to know each other, and I felt like Barry was someone really special to me. Is there anyone you like like that, back at your dwelling?”

“There’s one other Machop, but I don’t think she likes me back,” Dex’s tensed lips relax a little. “Is that normal, humans and Pokemon?”

“No.” I take a deep breath. “A lot of people don’t like the idea. Hate it even. And for good reason. You wouldn’t wanna fall in love with your trainer, like you wouldn’t with your parents.”

“Ew.” Dex sticks out his tongue. “But he’s not your trainer.”

I suppress a sigh. Not going to lie, it gets tiring having to repeat it, but I need to make it crystal clear to Dex that what we have is built on mutual trust. “No.”

“So it’s fine for you two.”

“Yeah.” I smile at Barry. I think he’s happy to let me drive the wheel from the way he smiles back. “We both pay rent. We both clean up after each other. We both give each other space when we need it.” I release my grip and turn, nursing my knuckles. “But not everyone sees it like that.”

It’s hard not to think about all the shit that happened before I met Barry. There was Axel at The Stantler’s Bust. That pub was a freaking dive, alright, but I didn’t care since Axel smelled so good, like oran zest and woodsmoke, and he was well toned from all the running he did. I scoured through a hundred dives to meet someone like him, and would’ve scoured through a hundred more.

We got caught kissing behind the slot machines, of all places to get caught. Axel took the heat for it as those shitty pub mates of his all turned on him; one even threw a pint glass at his head, and it wasn’t even meant to knock him out, but he got a whole damn concussion from it. When I turned up to his hospital with cans of Psycho Soda, he just told me to get out.

We haven’t seen or spoken to each other since.

I’ll never tell Dex what I went through to get to this stage. He doesn’t need to know. All he needs to know is the love and kindness Barry and I have to share.

The clock ticks on. Dex uses that space to finish the rest of his bowl, chugging it down in one go. Fucking hell, he demolished that. Finally, he wipes the rest from his mouth.

“I think I get it. Some in our dwelling don’t like Bait and Tackle bein’ together, but I think they’re wrong. They wanna have a little Sawk or Throh together too.” Dex tilts his head. “Wait, can you make eggs together?”

I slap my maw, doing my damndest to suppress a chuckle as Barry furrows his bushy eyebrows. I shouldn’t laugh since it’s a fair question, and one that’s the most pressing to answer.

“No, that’s why we wanted to adopt in the first place.” I inch closer to Dex and take a deep breath. “Look, Dex, I meant what I said earlier. I really want you in my life. But I need you to tell me whether or not you like the idea of being raised by me and Barry. I know you said you don’t need new parents, though.”

“The human’s nice…” Dex’s voice trails off. I can’t begin to imagine what he’s going through, or what he’s trying to process. “This whole thing is weird.”

I was afraid of that. I wash the lump in my throat down with some water. “How so?”

“It’s… this place. The city’s loud. You can’t just fight any Pokemon you see either.”

“There are other Pokemon like you. There are places you can battle in the city.”

Dex bats my side with the flat of his hand. I don’t get what he’s trying to tell me.

“I like speaking with our hands, like we used to. I don’t wanna lose that.”

“I can learn. Maybe you and Hammer can teach me a thing or two.”

He huffs and squirms in his booster seat. “And I wanna see Master Pillar, but dunno how. She’s so far away. All of them are. I dunno if they’ll have me back.”

“I have a car.” I force a smile; I need him to see that I’m on his side. “I can drive you anywhere you want. You can visit any time you’d like.”

“But I dunno where it is.”

“We can find it, whatever it takes.”

“But–”

Dex’s voice hitches. Whatever’s troubling him has got its hooks deep in him again, like it did when I saw him pounding that training dummy, like it did when he broke down in the van.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He curls up and cradles his knees.

“I dunno what I wanna do. I dunno if I belong here. I dunno if I belong anywhere.”

I exhale through my nose. I’ve felt the same, so many times.

“I know how you feel.”

“You don’t. Nobody does.”

Jeez, he just sounds so defeated. No Machop should have to feel like that already. What do I even say to cheer him up?

I can’t. There’s nothing that can fix this, nothing that can bring his parents back, nothing that can show him the right path to follow. Life for me has been like driving through the road at night with busted headlights, with only a few pit stops in sight. I don’t know if Dex feels the same, but I see so much of myself in him. My taste in music. That feeling of not fitting in anywhere. That fighting spirit I used to have. It’s still in Dex.

I know from now on that whatever I do, I’ll make sure he never loses that spirit.

I lay a hand on his shoulder, and give him however long it takes to come to. I take deep breaths, and he breathes in time with me.

“Dex?” I start. “Can I show you something?”

He doesn’t look me in the eye, but he nods and follows me into one room I’ve been waiting to show him: his bedroom. Well, it’s still our room, technically. The landlord hasn’t checked that we’re not sleeping in separate rooms yet. Barry’s currently using it as a rehearsal space as instruments are propped up in various places, while some of my workout equipment is tucked away in the corner.

Dex paws at the bass guitar on the stand. I draw my hand up, about to tell him not to touch Barry’s valuables when Barry steps in and sits cross-legged by Dex’s side. He picks the guitar up and strums a few notes; even though it isn’t plugged into the amp, its earthy tones resound in the room. He keeps his fingers fixed on one chord and invites Dex to strum the bridge. Dex’s face brightens up a little as he plays with Barry’s guidance.

“It sounds super deep,” Dex says. “You wanted to show me this?”

“That’s not all.” I kneel where Dex and Barry sit and wave my arm around the space. “This can be your room.”

Dex blinks. He scans the room as if he’s lost, unsure of what he can add to it just by being Dex.

“What would I do with it?” he asks.

There’s still so much I take for granted, human things like possessions and creature comforts, vinyl records and engraved lighters, stuff that doesn’t serve a practical purpose that nevertheless fill my little life with joy. I never grew up having that.

“Anything. You can do anything you want. We can put a bed up in here, and anything else you’d like.” I snort, trying to relieve the tension in some way. “Well, within reason. We can’t put a spaceship in here.”

“What’s a spaceship?”

Maybe I’m filling this kid’s head with too many ideas too fast. “Never mind. But this is yours to keep, if you want it. Even if you decide to go off on a trainer journey, work for some other removal place or do super important work or become a rockstar, you’ll always have some place to come back to.”

Something’s welling up in me. I’m trying to keep it together for Dex, but I don’t even know if he wants to stay at all. I don’t know what I’d do if he doesn’t; maybe look for some other Pokemon to adopt. But there’d be no other Machop like Dex.

“You really mean that this time?” Dex scowls, like he did when he punched my shoulder, which still hurts. “You won’t leave me again?”

“I’ll become Boltund chow before I ever let you down again.”

He stands up. Whatever’s got his hold on him lets go, and his shoulders relax. Dex takes a deep, shuddering breath and holds his arms out. I don’t need to know our sign language to know what Dex is asking for.

I scoop him in my arms and hold him tight. His sobs are muffled by my embrace. Barry joins in too, pulling us together.

I don’t have all the answers right now. Not for myself. Not for Barry. Not for Dex. But this feels right. Whatever we do, whatever Dex becomes, whether I stay at the Mach n’ Van, whether Barry gets his big break, I’ll make sure none of us have to face it alone.

---

Coda - A Machop Joins The Mosh Pit​

The sweat of a hundred humans and a few Pokemon stick to me and Barry. The room’s hot. It’s hard to breathe. The floor’s sticky from all the spilt beer. It’s foggy as hell from the smoke machine. And I love it. Dex seems to love it too, kicking his feet as he sits atop my shoulders, getting a good view of the headliner at The Cave: Torterror.

I’ve seen so many good bands in Circhester since I moved here. So many of them are fronted by humans, with the occasional Pokemon band member or two, but Torterror is one of the few Pokemon-fronted bands who have stood out from the crowd.

A Torterra with strips of tattered black cloth hanging from its tree branches growls into the stage microphone. The backing band, made up of two humans playing the guitar and bass, and a Braixen clad in black and white body paint on the drums, is fully in sync with him, playing slowly to match his dirge.

It’s a great crowd too. Everyone’s dressed in black. I even brought my Torterror shirt to match Barry’s. Looks like a few Pokemon are fans too, judging from the Scrafty and Jynx windmilling in the back.

Then the music picks up. The drummer’s blast beats combined with the super fast, technical riffs and the Torterra’s shrill screams drive everyone into a moshing frenzy as they form a circle pit. I keep my distance at first, conscious that Dex is a little Machop in a sea of human metalheads, but Dex jumps down from my shoulders and tries to join them.

I’m about to stop the whole thing when the moshers make some space for Dex. His laughter as he runs like a freaking Slurpuff on a sugar high is lost in all the noise.

I smile at Barry. He looks so good tonight, even in black and white face paint. I so badly want to kiss him, but I know I can’t. I’ve made some peace with keeping this a secret from the world.

Then Barry leans in to kiss me.

I pull away, expecting the crowd to stop and gawk at us. But they don’t. They’re too busy slamming against each other. I kiss him back, and our lips stay locked together even with all the chaos swirling around us.

---

Author's Note: You made it to the end! I’ve been working on this for a couple of months now, so it’s the biggest project I’ve recently finished. I feel like the journey to get here was a little messy, especially since I originally envisioned it as a one-shot and the ending was going to be a lot more bittersweet, but overall, I’m pleased with how it turned out.

I hope you enjoyed it, or at least got something out of even if the premise wasn’t quite your cup of tea. This was quite personal for me, and some of it is based off of my current relationship, though take what you will with a grain of salt.

As for future plans, I have a couple of ideas for more one-shots in Circhester that I’d like to write, if they don’t balloon out of scale like this one did. I also hope this lights a fire under my butt to write more of my longfic I, Isobel, though funnily enough, Glen was meant to be somewhat of an antagonist in the original draft of that story.

Anyway, thanks again for reading and stay tuned for more (possibly)!