Interlude – Band-Aid

Interlude – Band-Aid

INTERLUDE - Band-Aid

Denzel stretched his hand and looked at the little creases in his palm as he applied some of Emilia's moisturizer. She'd remarked on his hands' disastrous state and practically ordered him to put it on every day. Their fire burned in the distance and smoke rose high into the night sky, and Emilia and Pauline huddled around the pocket of warmth. They huddled on Braviary, who was even large enough to serve as a bed if need be. Charizard slept with a loud snore a few feet away, her flame a vibrant blue and Fennekin sat on Emilia's lap while Gothorita observed the stars with a wondrous expression. The rest of their Pokemon were in their Pokeballs.

The atmosphere between them three had been great, but Denzel knew something was bubbling beneath, begging to be let out. He thought it was better to ignore it. It was best not to rock the boat.

Plus, he was busy preparing for his battle against Grace, but it was hard to do when his team was so... what was the word for it? Not dysfunctional, but hard to work with.

Sylvi followed wherever he went with a ribbon wrapped around his wrist, although he didn't use any of his powers on him. He seemed to be quite persistent in getting him away from Pauline, so he had the biggest smile on his face now that they were going to spend a few hours away. Sylveon had always been a jealous one, but at least he kept it in check these days.

Roserade knelt next to a patch of flowers and watched as her poison slowly dissolved the colorful leaves. She'd been fascinated by her heightened abilities since her evolution, and now she liked to throw it at everything— rocks, plants, trees, and she'd just watch them melt. He was kind of worried about her, but he didn't want to stop her from having... fun.

Lopunny lounged on the ground, and she'd stolen his phone again without him noticing. It was the fifth time since they'd started traveling, and he'd confused his fans a little when Lopunny had posted some barely coherent gibberish on a bunch of forum posts. Some of them even got deleted by the mods for being off-topic. Just thinking about it made him cringe, but he apologized soon after and it got him quite a bit of publicity. And any publicity was good publicity if he knew how to handle it.

Denzel strode up to the normal type and snatched it out of her hand.

"No. I'll buy you one and make you accounts on social media when we get to Sunyshore, but you need to stop messing with my stuff, okay? I'm going to need you to focus up, we're talking about Grace soon."

He turned his head and saw Swablu standing atop Milotic's head. Thankfully the bird wasn't enamored by Sylveon as everyone else on his team was bar Froslass, and she seemed to be integrating rather well. She was fierce like all of them and had easily handled all of their hazing, for lack of a better word.

Froslass was close by, much to her displeasure, and she observed Roserade from up close and spoke to her. Denzel kept having to keep Froslass close to him because she was determined to spook any trainer she came across on route 214, and there were a lot, since they opted to go for the easier, quicker path that didn't go through the mountain.

"Listen up everyone," Denzel said. "When we get to Sunyshore, we're going to face off against Grace and her team."

That seemed to garner their attention. Even Roserade turned away from her simmering flowers. Denzel smiled when Swablu held her head high and chirped.

"Not you, Swablu. You're still training! You did good against all those trainers today."

The flying type scowled at him and retreated behind her fluffy wings. She still had a lot of catching up to do, but Denzel had plenty of ideas for her.

"It'll be a five-on-five. We still don't know how many switches, but we can assume the standard three. We can also assume that she won't use that Turtonator of hers, because otherwise it's a guaranteed loss. So that leaves us with Jellicent, Togetic, Tangrowth, Electabuzz, and Pupitar. Now, it's obvious that she's going to come at us knowing every trick under our sleeves, so we can't rely on surprise, especially when I have such a public persona. Now, what do you think would be a sound strategy?"

They all spoke over each other, and Denzel only understood a little of it. Lopunny couldn't learn to read fast enough. Then, she'd be able to use a text-to-speech program to translate what everyone said.

"Grace thrives when she has information, and she's gotten a lot better at thinking on the fly. Now, at the moment, we can't exactly pack the punch they can power-wise aside from Froslass."

The ice type smugly placed a hand in front of her mouth, and Lopunny tried to hit her with an ear. The attack just phased through her.

"Don't get overconfident, the others are close behind you. In a speedy battle, we lose. But what we can do is draw things out. Roserade's Synthesis, Milotic's Recover and Aqua Ring, Sylvi's Wish and Detect, Froslass being able to disappear and hide in Blizzard— and Hail, now. Lopunny... well, you're still working on Mirror Coat, but you're faster than every one of her Pokemon except Pupitar when she flies. I thrive in longer battles. Endurance matches. Grace does not. As much as it pains to admit, we're the underdogs, so we've got to even the playing field a little bit. You know what that means, right?"

For once, he had his team's full attention. Denzel smiled.

"A battle of attrition. The longer it goes on, the more mistakes she'll start to make. Now, it won't be easy. Grace is good because she can force things to go her way. Let's start by looking at her Togetic— broad strokes, let's just parse through it and see if we can brainstorm something. I don't just want to draw things out, that makes us predictable and that's a death sentence. We also need to—"

Denzel nearly jumped when Emilia grabbed him by the shoulder. His team laughed at his scared self, although Sylveon's face was completely still. He opened his mouth to say something funny, but her face was far too serious for that. Pauline was with her and looked to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

What had happened in the last two minutes?

"Denzel," Emilia spoke. "We need to talk. All of us."

—

Emilia Lussier might have gained in confidence, self-esteem and peace of mind these past few months, but she still despised traveling even on a route as safe as this one. The feeling of tough ground under her bottom, the cold as soon as she walked a few steps away from the fire, the grime, the lack of bathrooms and plumbing and the fact that she could only wash herself with a glove and water in this frigid temperature. She hated it all.

Luckily, Winter would soon be over and it would start to get hot again.

What she had missed, however, was hanging with her friends and her girlfriend. Plus, being with them finally made her feel in the loop again despite Cecilia and the others hiding things from them. She'd taken a break during Veilstone, only training every day, but it was time to get back into the swing of things in Sunyshore and get into contests again.

"Hey, you'll never guess what happened!" Pauline said as she browsed through her phone.

Emilia had been reflexively petting Fennekin's head, and the fire type was sound asleep on her lap. She held out a finger in front of her mouth and motioned at Pauline to keep quiet.

"My bad," Pauline said. "But look. Cece sent me this this afternoon."

Emilia leaned against her girlfriend and stared at her screen. It was a mirror selfie of Grace and Cecilia in two-piece swimsuits.

"They look great. Wait, are they in the Hotel Grand Lake? I'm so jealous," she whispered. "I wonder how she got her in one."

"Right? When we were at Mommy's Hearthome house, she didn't entertain wearing one at all. I'm happy for her," Pauline smiled. "Maybe we can stop by for a few days too, the three of us? Get a house with one of those indoor jacuzzis you like."

Emilia nodded. "That sounds nice. We don't want to take too long, or Denzel will probably get frustrated."

Pauline exhaled as she looked at the tall boy in the distance. "Yeah. He would, wouldn't he?"

Emilia blinked. She knew that look.

She'd known it for months now, really. Ever since they were in Hearthome and Pauline threw a fit about Denzel potentially having a friend of the opposite gender. She was better now, and the jealous rages had stopped, but she was still terrible at hiding it, especially from someone she'd known her entire life. Even on route 214, when Denzel's adoring fans— which were mostly girls— stopped him to ask for a picture, she couldn't help but stare daggers.

Emilia's face turned toward Denzel, who'd been sneaking a look at them, and he hurriedly turned back toward his team and began to observe them one by one. He liked her too. It was easy to tell.

The problem was that Emilia had no idea what this meant for her. Her hand in Pauline's suddenly felt cold, and she bit her lip.

Her old self would have followed in their folly and ignored this. It was easy, after all. The status quo was comfortable. Cozy, even. Day in, day out, the same thing happened. They bantered, laughed together, ate together, and trained together. A nice rhythm to get into. A routine.

But Emilia was no longer the passive, scared little girl that let things happen to her.

She didn't care if she got hurt. Not anymore. Emilia pulled out her hand from Pauline's and swallowed as she recalled Fennekin so she wouldn't wake up.

"Pauline," she firmly said. "How long are you going to lie to me?"

The redhead froze completely still, and Braviary did as well. Emilia felt a rumble at her back as the flying type let out a quiet caw.

"What do you mean?"

"You're in love with Denzel. Do you still love me? You look like you still love me, but I honestly can't tell."

Pauline's face turned toward a multitude of expressions, but settled upon one of pure panic as tears began to well up in her eyes. The sight hurt Emilia, but she had to remind herself that this wasn't her fault. She had a right to demand answers, and the quicker Pauline told her what the hell was going on, the easier it would be to deal with. Worst-case scenario, Veilstone was still only a day and a half away on foot. She could always go back and cry her heart out.

"I didn't lie— I just—"

"You kept it from me. You're stringing me along, Pauline."

"No!" Pauline hissed. "Please, keep quiet and let's just talk between us— maybe we can figure things out tomorrow. I promise you Emi, I still love you, I just... I just..."

"No. We're talking tonight. Enough stalling," she declared as she shot up. "We're all doing ourselves a disservice if we keep burying it. This has been going on for months, and I can't keep my head in the sand any longer."

Pauline couldn't even speak. She simply gave the barest hint of a nod and got up like a shaking leaf. Seeing her reduced to this state almost made Emilia hesitate. A part of her had expected Pauline's usual bombastic self, but her entire personality had done a 180, and Emilia knew that only ever happened when you peeled back every layer and exposed the weak side of Pauline that hid within.

She'd only seen it happen three times. Tonight was the fourth, and she was the cause instead of the comforter.

Because you deserve to be shit talked, you utter moron, she clapped back. You have a brain, don't you? Can you tell me in what situation what you are doing fucking works out for the better? You're like a child scared of going to the doctor because you're terrified of what news you'd get. It could be terrible and you could be dying, but it could also be nothing.

"I'm pretty sure I'm already dying," Pauline said.

Every time you confided in me, I told you to rip off the band-aid. You'd always say you'd do it soon, soon, fucking soon! Well, soon has come, Pauline! The band-aid is half-ripped, even if you weren't the one who pulled it! Now it's your turn to finish the job.

"Braviary, faster!"

The giant bird stretched out her wings and came to a silent halt. The momentum nearly made Pauline bump her head against her body, but Gothorita held her back. Braviary offered a screech.

"What's your problem?" Pauline asked with a stammer. "Don't stop!"

We will drag you back kicking and fucking screaming, Pauline, Gothorita said. Braviary agrees with me. Don't even think of swapping to Charizard. She will agree as well, and that stupid Vigoroth would too.

What remained of the girl's heart dropped.

I see your fear. It is etched into the stars, Pauline, and there are many tonight. Much more than in that smog-filled city.

"Please."

I can draw upon the stars. I can look further. Right now, you are on an asteroid on a collision course with Earth, but you're so small you'd burn up in the atmosphere. There is an alternate path. I see it—

Pauline covered her eyes as light engulfed the small psychic. If Braviary hadn't been so big, she would have fallen off. Gothorita became a Gothitelle and now towered over her trainer. Her black dress now went down to her legs and her eyes—

Arceus, her eyes.

They shone in the night, and there were little lights inside of them. Stars, Pauline realized. Gothitelle were known to draw their powers from the cosmos. The best of them were so good at approximating the future that they could see the exact date their trainers would die. Their future-telling was more personal than Xatu and could only be used with people they bonded deeply with.

I see it now, she said. If you go back, you will be happy. I do not know what form it will take, but the feeling is there. Do not throw it away.

"I'm a terrible person."

You aren't. You're just scared, and being scared makes people do terrible things.

Pauline took a deep breath.

"Turn back, Braviary. Thank you for not listening to me," she sniffled. The giant bird cooed at her touch and began flying toward their camp. "I'm fucking terrified."

Ah, yes, add feelings to the list of your worst fears. I'll put it next to ghosts and making hard choices.

"I deserve that."

Pauline's throat felt like it was being squeezed by a vice that tightened the closer she got back to camp. When she saw the tiny red dot— the flame— that anxiety reached a crescendo. Emilia and Denzel waved at her with both arms and yelled out some words she couldn't make out, and Braviary landed with a loud thud.

"You came back!" Emilia exclaimed with a relieved sigh. She touched Pauline's shoulders, as if she needed to make sure she was real. "You didn't run."

"I did. For a bit," she said. "Gothitelle and Braviary knocked some sense into me."

Denzel frowned and then noticed the tall psychic still sitting on Braviary's back. "Gothitelle—"

"We can talk evolutions later. Enough stalling," Pauline said. "I'm ripping off the band-aid. I'm in love with both of you, and I know that sounds stupid, but it's true. Now, in a perfect world, we'd link arms and start singing together to celebrate, but I know this isn't... that. Emilia, I'm sorry for lying to you and omitting the truth. I've betrayed your trust. I don't deserve you."

"I accept your apology," she nodded.

"Denzel, I'm sorry for stringing you along. For harassing your friends and being a possessive bitch. I kept giving you mixed signals, and you must have been confused. Maybe if I made a clean break, we could have moved on, but I couldn't."

"I mean, you're not the only one that did wrong. I'm sorry too."

"Yeah, but I think I did more wrong than both of you, so just... let me apologize," she exhaled. Her heart was beating against her chest so hard that it hurt. "So, we probably have the same question on our minds, right? What now?"

Pauline was an idiot, but she wasn't that stupid. She knew that her fantasy about the three of them starting to date as soon as she confessed had never been realistic in the first place.

"I don't know," Denzel shrugged. "I'm the outsider. It's up to you and Emilia. If you want, I'll leave and you can sort out everything—"

"Stop asking to leave already, Arceus!" Emilia said in an exasperated tone. "We're riding this one out. You know how sometimes people don't leave a room until a deal is made? This is that. We're sticking together until we figure out what the hell is going on, because the status quo wasn't working."

So they spoke. For nearly four hours, they discussed between themselves, and the conversation derailed multiple times. The good thing was that the awkwardness was nearly gone, albeit it was still easy to see and feel. Both of them dating her wouldn't work. It was possible, and people sometimes entered such a polycule, but they all vehemently disagreed and disliked the idea. Pauline yawned and then she finally reached a conclusion.

"I see it two ways," Pauline said. "Either Emi and I break up, we all... uh, separate for a few months to chase away remaining feelings, and then hopefully we can return to each other as friends."

"Or?" Denzel asked.

"Or— and don't strangle me for this— we all break up—"

"We weren't dating," Denzel said.

"Let me finish. We untangle and destroy this entire mess of a relationship and build it anew. Slowly. And see what works? You two can also, uh, hang out more and maybe see if something happens?"

"I feel like you're a five-year-old smashing two toys together," Emilia said.

"I mean, I'm not! And maybe now that you have the added context, you'll both catch feelings, right?"

"I don't know," Denzel hesitated as he scratched his head. "This feels weird, still."

"I'd really love it if you gave it a try. And if it doesn't work, well, we can do the first option. The friend thing. I'm probably making it sound a lot simpler than it is."

"Not probably," Emilia said. Sadness crept up on her face. "You broke up with me. We've been dating for three years."

Pauline held her breath. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

"You suck."

"I do."

"Let's give it a try. But no guarantees. If I think this is uncomfortable for even a second, I'm out."

Pauline beamed. "Thank you. And Denzel?"

"Fuck it. I'm probably going to regret this, but whatever. Why not take a chance, right? We can call it a trial period."

The vice unscrewed from Pauline's neck and she felt like she could finally breathe again. The redhead stood up and stretched to get some blood flow going.

"I guess we didn't sleep," she said. "Should we skip a day or should we travel?"

Denzel hummed. "I think we should... should, uh... Pauline, behind you."

Pauline turned around and saw a wounded little furball approach her. It had deep gashes under its nose and on top of its left eye and one of its legs looked to be broken.

It was a Mankey.

Later that day, Denzel figured out he'd been run over by one of the trucks that drove along the road. The driver was also heavily wounded, and the front of his truck had been shredded. Pauline flew him back to Veilstone as soon as she could and Denzel and Emilia spent the day on route 214.