Chapter Text
1. Skarmory
It was not unusual after a long day of work at the League that Steven would decide to spend the night in his allotted chambers at headquarters. Drake and Glacia practically lived there full-time, so he had no worries about security or unwanted attention.
On some days, however, there was nothing Steven wanted more than to crash in his own bed in his home, surrounded by faintly glowing stones, and devoid of people who could disturb his peace. The Champion of Hoenn sighed as he sat back in his office chair, closing his Pokenav. The time had read 12:17 AM, so overtime that he could probably shirk a few hours of duty the next day, but tomorrow was a busy day. The League had agreed to host some interviews for a production that was shooting a documentary about Pokémon Trainers and their hurdles, and the director had approached months ago to schedule this.
Steven could not, in good conscience, simply skip over that. Not if he wanted to keep his reputation intact, that is. He did not mind being known to shirk duties in favour of spelunking, but he certainly took issue in being known as lazy. And yet, there was something bothering him. The mere thought of staying overnight made him shudder.
It was with a heavy heart that he stood, sluggishly put on his suit jacket and began walking for the exit. Exhaustion weighed down on him, and he could not even muster the energy to set his shoulders straight as he walked past the reception, merely mumbling a good night to the receptionist, who no doubt had plenty to say about working so late and then choosing to make the trip all the way to Mossdeep City.
Steven shoved all those thoughts into the recesses of his mind as the cool night breeze kissed his weary face, the haunting whisper almost lulling him to sleep right there. He reached for the first Poke Ball on his belt and released the inhabitant. Skarmory appeared on the ground with a silent tilt of her head.
“Sorry for bringing you out so late, but I need to get home.” Steven smiled sheepishly, reaching a hand forward to stroke her long neck. The Steel-type cawed softly and turned, inviting him to mount her back. “I’ll treat you once we get home.” He declared as he got on, securing his position, and then giving her the go-ahead for flight.
The wind whipped in his face as they flew under the starry sky. The flashing lights of cities farther away glowed in beautiful dots. The serene atmosphere of Hoenn at night was simply unparalleled compared to other regions. Steven leaned forward closer to Skarmory, fighting to keep his drooping eyes awake. It was an arduous task, as the lids grew heavier with each passing moment and each howl of the wind.
Before he knew it, Steven had fallen asleep on Skarmory’s back, expertly held securely thanks to the Steel bird’s experience and manoeuvring.
*
Skarmory maintained a steady pace for the entire flight from Ever Grande to Mossdeep, slowing down when the wind currents grew more forceful, and then diving forth when they changed direction. All the while, she kept a watchful eye on her sleeping passenger - ensuring both that he remained secure and did not wake up.
The real issue was getting inside Steven’s house. The cottage was located near the edge of one of the cliffs of the coastal city, its windows far too small for Skarmory to fit inside with both herself and her trainer. The door was locked and breaking it down was out of the question. That would just bring more trouble for her trainer. So, gently poked at Steven with her beak, letting him know that they had arrived.
Steven stirred, groaning. “Ah, thanks, Skarmory. Wait, I’ll just open the door.” As the light haired man procured the keys to his house, he also tried to dismount, though Skarmory was unwilling to let that happen. Steven, mind still groggy after the brief nap, instead opted to open the door as he was on her back, and then the Steel-type simply charged forth into the house.
“You really are so stubborn…” Steven whispered behind her, slumping forward again. His steady breathing indicated that he had fallen asleep once more. Skarmory clicked her beak in amusem*nt before walking over to the single bedroom. She kneeled beside the bed and gently deposited her trainer onto the soft covers.
Steven immediately curled into himself, looking peaceful. And Skarmory trilled, praising her own efforts.
When he woke up in the morning, sharp at 8AM, Steven was greeted by the sight of Skarmory slumbering at the foot of his bed, and he could not help the fond smile which overtook him.
***
2. Cradily
Getting dragged along to the beach is an annual occurrence for Steven. It always happens in midsummer, when the weather is so hot one could see the vapours evaporating from water bodies. The phenomenon had become common after the averted crisis with Primal Groudon. The aftereffects of the incident only served to show how catastrophic the free reign of the super-ancient Pokémon would have been.
As someone who would prefer to delve into the deepest parts of a cave than melt in the scorching heat, Steven did not enjoy these outings, or he wouldn’t were it not for Wallace and his niece Lisia making them more welcoming.
“Your Pokémon need to loosen up too, Steven. Not all of them enjoy hanging around in dark places like you,” Wallace had said one time, and since then, Steven had started to reluctantly agree to attend sporadically. He could endure the situation if it meant Cradily got to enjoy some time in her natural habitat of the shallow seas.
The plantlike Pokémon always came to life as soon as he released her from her Poke Ball, and this time was no different. She cried happily as she appeared on the shores of Mossdeep’s secluded beach. The weather was somewhat pleasant, all things considered, with the sun’s blinding glare being blotted out by gray clouds.
Milotic emerged from the deeper part of the sea, shrilly greeting the Barnacle Pokemon. The two started exchanging words, and Steven was content in knowing that his friend would enjoy yet another day to herself. He would have brought out Armaldo to share in the moment, but the Rock-Bug hybrid tended to dive into the ocean and begin hunting other Pokemon. Even after all this time, he struggled to control his ancient instincts when presented with his natural habitat.
“Uncle Steven, did Uncle Wallace tell you about the recent ‘disaster’ that happened at one of the contests?” Lisia’s energetic voice burst through his thoughts, her green eyes shining as her Altaria dipped its beak in the waters that ran up the shore.
“He didn’t, actually.” Steven smiled, sparing the man in question a glance. The teal haired man was lying back in his recliner under the shade of the umbrella. Underneath those sunglasses, it was clear Wallace was dozing off. He had his own fair share of work too, after all, with double duties of Gym Leader and Contest Master.
“Oh, you are not going to believe this,” Lisia set herself down on the picnic mat, flailing her arms around as she began to recount the events. “So, Milotic was performing her Aqua Ring and Icy Wind combo, right, and then someone from the crowd had their Vulpix use Fire Spin. I don’t even know how it got past the security Growlithe, but it reacted with the water and ice to create this beautiful aura of orange and blue. The entire contest hall began shining, and at first, everyone was so confused, but Uncle Wallace was so excited, you should have seen the sparkle in his eyes! He hunted that young trainer down afterwards and basically interviewed him to oblivion.”
Lisia was chuckling loudly, taking a bite out of her chicken sandwich. Steven could not help his own smile. It was just like Wallace to chase after novelty and chaos like that. “I hope this doesn’t mean others will take this as a cue to interfere in performances.” He commented. That would be a paperwork disaster, for sure.
“Probably…but what can ya do? Officer Jenny will be tightening security in contest halls from now on, no doubt.” She shrugged after thinking about it for a moment. Lisia was just like her uncle in that regard, and Steven begrudgingly had to remain the cautious brain out of the group.
“It was a mere fluke. No need to worry, dear Steven.” Wallace finally joined the conversation, pushing his sunglasses upward to reveal mirthful teal eyes. “It has been so long since someone managed to catch me off-guard like that, I almost forgot how it feels like.”
He flickered a quick glance toward his niece. “Well, besides you, of course. Arceus knows you inherited all the talent from your dear uncle.” Wallace chuckled as Lisia chastised him for the ego stroke. Steven sighed fondly, turning his gaze to the shores of the sea, where Cradily bathed herself in the water, her tentacles rooted to the land so she didn’t get swept away with the waves.
The waves themselves were growing rather tumultuous, crashing harder against the shore than they had been mere minutes ago. Milotic was nowhere to be seen, definitely freely traversing the underwater.
“Maybe we should head back? The water seems to be getting rowdier?” Steven asked aloud. “Steven, if the water does head for the beach, we have Milotic ready to redirect it back. Just relax a little, would you?”
It was not that he was incapable of relaxing. Steven felt quite comfortable in his best friend’s presence, even more so when there were no other onlookers around them, but his intuition had a knack for being right, and the alarm bells were flaring right now.
The skies had darkened to a gray-black, unnaturally so. Hoenn’s climate was not so spontaneous. A shrill shriek captured Steven’s attention and he rose to his feet. Cradily was struggling to hold onto the land, using all her tentacles to plant herself. Steven moved before really thinking about it. In hindsight, simply using her Poke Ball to recall the Grass-Rock type would have been more efficient.
“Steven!” Wallace’s sudden cry barely carried over the roaring tempest, and he skidded to a halt just in time to see the stray plastic pole that was violently being carried by the wind. His body didn’t react enough in time, and he was thrown off-balance when it collided with his chest, knocking the breath out of him. Crashing to the wet sand, Steven was vaguely aware of the water that washed over him before he was sliding with it back into the sea.
A scream left his mouth, arms flailing wildly about until something wrapped around his left one, anchoring him to the edge of the shore.
“Cradily!” His partner responded with a reassuring shriek, straining as she held both his and her own weight rooted in the ground now.
“Leafeon, use Sunny Day!” Lisia’s voice was followed by her Pokémon’s own, and the dark clouds in the sky soon parted to reveal the blazing son once more.
“Milotic, redirect the currents with Surf, please,” Wallace said, inhaling deeply before exhaling in relief.
Even as the waters receded and calm settled on the beach once more, Cradily’s firm grip on Steven did not abate. The Champion took deep breaths to calm himself before rising on shaky legs, putting on a smile.
“Hey, it’s alright now. Sorry about that.” He patted her head, and it was only then that she let go of his arm and released her rigid tether to the earth. Cradily shuffled closer to him, and Steven bent down to give her a better hug.
“You’ve faced much worse than this, what’s wrong?” He asked, confused at how shaken she seemed.
“Perhaps Pokemon also need time adjusting when the situation goes from zero to a hundred.” Wallace answered for Cradily, reaching out as Milotic swam closer to shore. The Tender Pokemon softly trilled, wrapping her long serpentine form around her own trainer.
“I say we get out of here. Seems like an unruly Gyarados used Rain Dance and the opposing Manectric overcharged on Thunder,” Lisia added, looking at her PokeNav. Steven sighed.
“I’ve repeatedly told the local law enforcement not to allow Pokemon battles near the city like this.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Well, I’m sure they will be more amenable to the prospect after finding out their nation’s Champion and Contest Masters nearly drowned.” Wallace winked.
“You were nowhere near the water…but yes, that would have gone horribly if we were unequipped Trainers.” Steven looked back down at Cradily, who finally seemed to have calmed down. She rubbed her head against his chest once more.
“I’ll speak with them right away, don’t worry.” He smiled.
***
3. Armaldo
There weren’t many who would dare to attack the Champion of a region head-on. Such an act only invited a heat that the regular person could not handle, whether that be a Dragonite’s ferocious Dragon Rush, a Garchomp’s rumbling Earthquake, or a Metagross’ cold, clinical Meteor Mash.
Those in the business of engaging in such endeavours therefore tended to concoct plans that took months to construct and act out. Steven had never quite paid attention to such groups, obscure as they were, not to mention how it was so difficult for even the Pokemon League to keep track of his movements. And following an expert spelunker into the darkest depths of caves was an undertaking not worth risking.
So, when Steven decided to visit Shoal Cave once again in the hopes of finding an elusive Ice Stone, he did not bother bringing most of his experienced Pokemon team with him, settling only on Armaldo, who could navigate the waters in the event the high tide came up sooner than expected. As such, he had also brought Devon Scuba Gear. The other three members were an Aron he had recently acquired from his latest trip to Granite Cave, a Beldum who was on the verge of evolution, and Carbink who he was training to fight in his Championship battles.
Needless to say, he hadn’t been expecting company of any sort besides the local Pokemon.
It was Aron who noticed the disharmony first - vibrations in the ground which were anomalous, heavy, and, most of all, dangerous. The steel-rock type wailed to his trainer, and Steven dropped the excavation to look at him in askance.
Aron tilted his head towards the opening at the far end of the cave. Between them and the hole was a subdued body of water, currently in low tide. It was not long before various winged figures burst through the opening, shrieking and howling, so loud that Steven had to cover his ears.
The herd of Golbat wasted no time in lunging forth, heading straight for the spelunker in his vulnerable state. Beldum planted itself in front, hardening its metallic surface to endure the Crunches.
“Aron, use Roar1” Steven commanded over the incessant sonic waves and his partner, despite being similarly handicapped, heard the order. He was unable to carry it out, being swept away in a crashing wave. Steven himself had to place a hand on the back wall to prevent being thrown to the jagged floor. In the midst of all that, Beldum was unable to fend off the onslaught, and it collapsed beside its trainer.
Steven sank to his knees, glaring at the human figures that sauntered into the room, their clothes obscure in the darker lighting. Gritting his teeth, he lowered one hand to his belt and procured Armaldo’s Poke Ball. Whatever they decided to throw at them, his partner’s armour would endure.
The intensity of the Supersonic increased seemingly two-fold, and Steven could feel his ears bleed. Still, he persisted and threw the worn Poke Ball, Armaldo’s battle cry shaking the cave walls to their core. No further command was needed. Rock Blasts were flying before the assailants could issue their own orders to the Golbat, striking the flying creatures straight out of the air. The dark was a playground for a Pokemon like Armaldo.
Freed from the deafening assault, Steven shakily recalled Aron and Beldum to their Poke Balls, muttering apologies for being underprepared. Thankfully, he had never released Carbink from her Ball. While she was more experienced, a sneak attack like this would have gotten the best of her as well.
The Champion rose to his feet, leaning back against the wall, watching the opposing Pokemon try and fail to penetrate Armaldo’s armour.
“Send in the Poliwrath!” The voice from the other end commanded, and then appeared a slew of them, their Water-Fighting types a perfect counter to Armaldo’s Rock-Bug. Steven had full faith in his partner’s abilities, but the concern about a potential cave-in as a result of the battle remained.
Unless…Steven glanced behind him. The wall was thick, but relatively hotter to touch, indicating there was a body of water beyond it. Steel blue eyes trailed upwards, frowning at the ceiling. The collapse would surely be disastrous. But, he was cornered here with only two Pokemon ready for battle.
Armaldo growled as he unleashed another barrage of Rock Blasts, though these were not as effective on the Poliwrath, who easily broke through them with their powerful fists.
“Armaldo, I have a plan, but it might be dangerous.”
Steven’s partner glanced back his left eye debating for only a moment before he nodded. The trust they had built over the years was unbreakable. “Use X-Scissor on the wall behind us.” Steven whispered, shoving the breathing tube into place.
Armaldo moved faster than the Poliwrath could intercept, creating two slashes into the wall that broke it in. Steven jumped in front of his partner just as the high pressure water stormed in with a crash. With its support lost, the ceiling collapsed, right on top of Pokemon and trainer.
Armaldo wrapped his arms around Steven and dove into the large body of water, heading for the new surface which had appeared thanks to the collapse. The overall integrity of the cave in this section would now be fragile, and the panicked shouting of the resident Pokemon was more than enough to communicate that. They, at least, would be unharmed, their natural instincts designed for such sudden situations.
The water proved to not be deep enough to form a complete barrier, and the falling debris landed squarely on Armaldo’s back, but his sturdy armour held strong, his wing-like appendages masterfully manoeuvring them to the surface. They appeared in a tranquil part of the cave, surrounded by a wide opening.
Armaldo swam to the shore, Steven clinging onto the bipedal Rock type, shaking his head to get stray droplets of water out of his eyes. He pulled himself onto rocky land, pulling the breathing tube out with a gasp. His ears were barely functioning and the painful throbbing in his head almost caused his vision to white-out. He took deep breaths, forcing his body to adjust.
“Good work, Armaldo. Thank you.” He smiled, extending a hand towards the Pokemon, whose eyes closed in gleeful satisfaction and head leaned forward to brush against the limb.
“I suppose we’ll have to come back for the Ice Stone at a later time. Let’s get out of here for now.”
Armaldo grunted in affirmative.
***
4. Claydol
A region’s Champion represented many things; a role model for aspiring trainers to follow, a symbol of strength and pride, a figure that seemed nigh untouchable yet was constantly showered in the spotlight. There were various fan clubs scattered across the world dedicated solely to a certain Champion alone. Their every move was essentially under a microscopic lens.
Where there were people, there were cameras, and where there were cameras, it was impossible to even bring a fork up to one’s mouth to eat without the action being scurtinized to the Distortion World and back. There would be scores of columns in newspapers about the angle of the elbow, the size of the bite, the speed of the chewing, and so on. It was an endless list.
Steven considered himself relatively fortunate. As the sole heir to the Devon Corporation, his father had made sure to instill public etiquette into him from a young age. He never enjoyed that time, being a free-spirited child who was far more interested in the trinkets of stones his father collected as a hobby, but he was grateful now for the persistent and strict tutors.
For Steven did not know what he would do otherwise in a situation like this.
“Mr. Stone, would you be willing to give us a few words about the upcoming Hoenn Conference?”
Steven turned his head slowly, placing the spoon of soup he had been bringing to his mouth back in the bowl. Towering over him was a reporter, pen in hand, and a camera man behind her. The muted chatter Mauville Food Court fell silent completely, as if stunned by the breach of appropriate conduct.
The camera was already rolling, Steven could tell by the green beeping on its head, and he gathered his composure by clearing his throat. He did not miss the glint in the reporter’s eye. Clearly the intent behind her interruption ran far deeper than simply wanting to know his thoughts on an event that was more than a month away.
He bit back the sigh of frustration that built up from his chest and gave a polite smile instead, the one that completely masked his true feelings. “I would like to wish all aspiring trainers the best in their training and am looking forward to all their hard work pay-off in a month’s time.”
His diplomatic answer did not satisfy the reporter, judging by the way her lips briefly turned downward. Steven maintained his courteous expression while she looked for something else to throw at him. He was all too-aware of the eyes from the other dining tables, whether they were furtive glances or curious peeks.
Steven’s left hand twitched under the table, balling into a fist as it clutched the fabric of his trousers. Getting caught off-guard when he was supposed to be relaxing was not out of the ordinary, particularly if he was in a crowded place such as this, but to be hit with such a poorly concealed approach was insulting to his intelligence. One of the Poke Balls at his belt jerked, as if trying to break free, which only added to the tension. He needed to diffuse this before something truly drastic happened.
“Forgive me for disturbing you like this, Mr. Stone, but despite your proven worth, there are still dissenters who claim you bought your way to the top of the Pokemon League and maintain your position as such.”
It wasn’t even a full question, instead a loaded statement laced with expectation and accompanied with an inspecting gaze that surely psychoanalyzed every minute twitch in his facial expression. It was a pathetic attempt, and anyone with a moderately level head could see it.
“I assure you, miss, that you will have dissenters no matter what actions you take. I have no need to indulge in baseless rumours that do not hold any weight, particularly so long into my reign.” The public outrage when he had won the title had indeed been chaotic, with many claiming that Devon had installed their ‘puppet’ into the League itself as a way to dominate the market.
The ordeal had been a rough time for everyone involved: Steven and his tanked self-esteem, his father with a PR disaster that did not originate as a result of anything the company had done, and the Pokemon League being labelled as a spineless institution with no principles.
The League, in its haste to clear its own name, released video footage of Steven’s battles against the Elite Four and Champion, which only allowed the mob to spread like wildfire. Instead of being perceived as an act of clearance, it was seen as confession. The fire was only extinguished when Steven finally declared that any who had qualms could come challenge him at the League themselves without the requirement of beating the Elite Four.
His father had not agreed with the course of action, as it suggested willingness to submit to demands, but Steven remained adamant, not seeing any other way out of the situation beyond simply resigning. Needless to say, none of the challengers could defeat a single member of Steven’s team. After that, the nation’s unrest quelled into a tolerance for their new Champion, followed by adoration.
Still, there were sure to be some who believed that Steven was merely a puppet Champion who did as he was told by his father’s influential company. The Poke Ball tugged at his belt even more willfully now.
“Now, please if you don’t mind, I have to attend to League business.” Steven forced another smile, rising to his feet without waiting for the reporter to respond. She fumbled for words, watching him place the money for the soup and a surplus tip on the table before he turned on his heels and walked towards the street.
Mauville was bustling in the afternoon and Steven was counting on that to lose the reporter and camera duo for when they inevitably followed him. They had to have been stalking him prior as well. He spared a secret glance over his shoulder and was disappointed to find them keeping up with relative ease, even in the crowded street.
Steven sighed before reaching his hand for the agitated Poke Ball. He avoided Metagross or Skarmory for they would be too conspicuous in a place like this. Claydol, on the other hand, materialized floating in the air beside him, obscured by passersby and not so out of place as to attract too much unwanted attention.
The doll Pokemon rumbled, tilting behind him. “Not now, please. Just teleport us out of here. On the rooftop of a building, if you prefer.” Claydol stared at him through multiple eyes before they started glowing a faint blue. Steven blinked and the next second he was struck with a strong breeze, whirling his hair into a wild mess.
“Thank you.” He sighed, finally letting his shoulders drop. Claydol’s mind brushed against his, a gentle, reassuring touch. They always were a caring partner, despite their circ*mstances.
“I’ll be fine. It’s nothing new anymore…” Steven sat down on the floor, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. The psychic hovered beside him, their presence a constant against his mind, lulling him into serenity.
Where would he truly be without his Pokemon?
***
5. Aggron
Opportunities to truly relax were few and far in between. If there weren’t any League duties keeping him occupied, Steven would prefer to research the countless rare stones he had still not discovered and draft plans on when and where to mine them. If it wasn’t his hobby, then he would help his father at Devon, or simply be present at certain events like galas and important meetings. Whatever his current passions, he was still the only heir to the company, and that required him to show his face once in a while.
Tonight was one such occasion. It was the after-party in the wake of the successful launch of another product aimed at aiding young Pokemon trainers on their journey. The Devon Illuminator lit up the darkest of caves, and utterly removed the need for trainers to own the TM for Flash. It was a highly requested product according to polls conducted last year, with many comments bemoaning the fact that it was not easy to acquire Flash if one was not taking on the Gym Challenge.
The product opened to great acclaim, as was the norm for any invention put out by the Devon Corporation. Steven sipped his wine as he idly stood near the corner of the hall in the ground floor of the company headquarters. His presence was not necessary, but he had not appeared in public as heir for an extended period of time and the whispers had begun picking up in the media about ‘strained relations’ between himself and his father.
The BuzzNav truly turned out to be a double-edged sword. Steven restrained a sigh by downing the entire glass of the drink, setting it on the table beside him. He had already gone through the mundane motions of greeting important investors and shareholders and was now waiting for an acceptable time to depart from the festivities.
“You’re Champion Steven, right?” The new voice caught his attention, and Steven turned to find a child, no older than ten. The brown haired boy was dressed in a tuxedo and wore thin-framed black glasses. His dark blue eyes were shining in awe.
“Indeed, I am. And who might you be?” Steven smiled easily, somewhat relieved to hear a title other than ‘heir’ or ‘Mr. Stone’s son’. Even after all his individual accomplishments, he could not escape his upbringing.
“My name is Finn, I wanna be a Pokemon trainer one day! I’ve seen all of your battles.” The child introduced himself with glee, swinging his arms. Steven could not remember ever meeting or being introduced to the child before, which was odd if he was one of their investors’.
“Oh, have you thought about who your first Pokemon will be?” The Champion asked. Most trainers would travel to Littleroot Town and receive a starter from Professor Birch, but children with richer parents or those who were already Pokemon trainers tended to take on whoever they chose.
Steven did not expect Finn to deflate at the question. All his previous enthusiasm seemed to escape him as his shoulders drooped. “Well, my dad told me he wouldn’t allow me to become a trainer, much less own a Pokemon. He said I should focus on the family business.”
Steven felt his own smile drop at the words. “I’m sure he has his reasons for saying that,” he said softly, forcing the words out of his throat. It was not unusual for businessmen to be resistant towards their children pursuing other passions. Steven himself had been lucky that both his parents loved Pokemon and had gifted him with a Beldum on his 8th birthday. Even if it was mainly so he wouldn’t remain a lonely child.
“I guess, but he never listens to me either! I don’t see why I can’t even have a Pokemon of my own. Kids younger than me have one!” Finn sniffled, staring down at the floor. Steven glanced around the hall, hoping to find some assistance, but no one had seemed to notice the child breaking away from wherever his father was.
“Hey, why don’t I get you some juice? What would you like?” Steven crouched down and made eye contact with the child. Finn pouted for a few seconds before he shook his head in a gesture of ‘no’.
“I…have to leave soon. I didn’t tell my dad I’d be leaving home.”
Steven processed the words.
“What? You mean you came here alone?” He whispered in disbelief, looking up at the entrance to the hall. How did a child sneak through the guards? Was it because he was dressed formally?
“Yeah, haha. I just wanted to see you, ya know. The BuzzNav wouldn’t stop talking about how you were in town for once.” Finn at least had the decency to look sheepish. He fished his PokeNav out of his jacket pocket, littered with stickers of the Beldum line. Steven felt his heart thaw at the sight.
“Oh! Speaking of, could I get your autograph too? I brought my special Poke Ball just for this!” Finn presented an old, dusty Poke Ball, scratched and dull. Steven wondered where he had found it, he certainly did not get it from his father.
“Very well,” he conceded, picking a marker from one of the tables, “however, in exchange, I will escort you home, understood?” He looked pointedly at the child, though not unkindly.
“Of course! Yes!” Finn seemed to glow even more at the prospect, no doubt ecstatic at the chance to spend more time than he thought with Steven. The Champion shook his head as he brought the marker to flourish his elaborate signature on the front of the ball, just above the button that would open it. He was vaguely tempted to press it, just to make sure there was not a Pokemon inside, but was quick to suppress that thought.
“Steven!” The familiar voice, and the urgency behind it, seized his attention immediately, and Steven turned his head to the entrance to find an out-of-breath Sidney, flanked by his Absol. Behind him were Phoebe and Dusknoir.
The entire hall went quiet, the chatter dying to a pin-drop silence. “Don’t touch that Poke Ball!” Sidney shouted, eyes wide in wild panic as he pointed accusingly at the item. Steven frowned, opening his mouth to question the reason why when he saw something shift in the periphery of his vision.
Finn, the child, had retracted his hand holding the Poke Ball, his dark blue eyes void of anything. Steven shuddered as a dark red aura slowly creeped around the child, spreading outward in a suffocating cloud.
“Steven, move, dammit!”
The Poke Ball clinked open and out came an Electrode, dangerously close to Steven. His heart raced, a million thoughts running through his head. He seized on the first word that made sense.
“Aggron!”
One of the Poke Balls at Steven’s own belt flashed white, producing a massive hunk moments before the world exploded in orange and yellow. Steven was rocked by the sheer force of it, standing at point blank range, but the sturdy, hard arms around him were enough tell that he had been saved from the worst of it.
Even with Aggron’s timely appearance and quick movement, Steven felt the ground beneath his feet disappear, a strange weightlessness surrounding him for mere moments before both he and Aggron crashed through concrete and landed on something that was neither cold floor nor carpeted. It seemed the iron armour Pokemon himself had lunged forward to further help his trainer escape the blast.
Steven gasped as he landed on his right side, breath knocked out of his lungs and head spinning in complete disorientation. A sturdy arm encased his vulnerable form, a low rumble vibrating in concern. The trainer forced his eyes open, wincing at how unfocused his vision was.
Aggron’s blue eyes morphed into focus as the steel-type rubbed his back in askance once more. Steven coughed as he tried to speak, his lungs protesting against such an action. Aggron whined in response, drawing Steven closer to himself.
“Steven! My boy, are you alright?” His father’s voice broke through the haze, even calming Aggron somewhat, who seemed to be on high alert.
“I-I’m fine…I think.” Steven finally powered through the pain, breathing deeply and cautiously experimenting with his body. Nothing seemed broken…which was more than fine, considering an Electrode had Self Destructed in his face.
“If you’re fine, then I’m a Fairy type trainer.” Sidney’s biting remark came from behind his father. “But you’re lucky you have an Absol user and a medium as your friends, Stevie.” The smirk was evident in the dripping tone.
Steven groaned as he pulled himself up, aided by Aggron’s nurturing hold. The sturdy Pokemon did not stop supporting his trainer even as Steven sat on his own strength. He offered his father a mirthful smile, who looked on the verge of tears. The man engulfed Steven in a hug of his own, jostling Steven’s delicate body, but it was nothing too bad.
“I thank you both on my son’s behalf. And my own, of course.” Steven patted his father’s back at the proclamation, and Sidney purposefully turned his gaze away, grumbling something. Beside him, Phoebe giggled.
“That was a Zoroark, wasn’t it?” Steven asked seriously once his father finally pulled back.
“Yup,” Sidney growled. “Absol sensed its foul intentions as soon as we got close to town.”
“You need to be more careful, Steven. I dread to think what would have happened if the spirits had not contacted me.” Phoebe patted Dusknoir, her feet shifting uncomfortably at the thought.
“And after that group attacked you in Shoal Cave…Steven, you might want to consider additional security.” Father added to the conversation, his slate eyes narrowed in stern worry. “I do not know whether they’re after you because of your Champion title, or your status as Devon heir, but please, for all our sakes, do not overlook your safety.”
Steven was at a loss for words. There was no evidence that the two incidents were related to the same group, but a pattern had been established. And they were all right, one’s life was not to be left up to chance. He turned to Aggron, taking in his untouched state. The explosion had not ruffled him in the least, much less penetrate through its sturdy steel-rock armour.
“I will have my trusted partners with me the whole time. Don’t worry.” He declared with a smile, scratching Aggron’s neck. The Pokemon gave a smile of his own and pulled Steven into a hug. The cool steel was a greater comfort than the soft fluff of his expensive bed sheets.
***
6. Metagross
Sometimes, threats did not come from extrinsic forces; sometimes, they originated from within. From the moment he awoke with a scratchy throat and a runny nose, Steven knew he was not going to have a good day.
He groaned as he sat up in bed, pressing his fingers against his eyes as his head spun in protest. His back ached, sending him hunching forward in a bent posture. The ferocious heat emanating from his head into his hand spoke of a strong fever, and the only thing Steven could think about was how untimely this was.
“Right on the day of the Conference…” he moaned in complaint, wondering which god he had pissed off for this slight of fate. Regardless, the silver haired man pushed himself onto his feet and sluggishly made his way to the kitchen where he kept essential medicine. Steven popped open the painkiller bottle and swallowed one tablet without preamble.
He leaned forward against the table, lowering his throbbing head. Sunlight filtered in through the cracks in the curtains, signalling the day was already in full-swing. That did not leave much time to dally. Grimacing, Steven stumbled back to his bedside and grabbed one of the Poke Balls at the table.
“Will you help me out, Metagross?” The blue spider-like steel-type landed on the ground with a dull thud, occupying most of the space in the room. Steven had kept the size of his Pokemon in mind while searching for a safe house, and he could not have been more grateful about his past actions than now.
Metagross’ firm, familiar presence brushed against Steven’s mind, the mere feel of it already easing his pounding headache. His partner’s red eyes flashed in concern before a wave of reassurance passed over him.
“Thanks.” Steven smiled.
It wasn’t the first time Metagross helped him like this. When Steven was a child and his partner a Beldum, the tiny floating companion would accompany him everywhere and assist him in every single task. It didn’t have superior psychic abilities then, but once it evolved into a Metang and gained a pair of arms, they grew even more insistent about helping in mundane tasks.
And once they evolved into Metagross, those tasks became as simple as breathing. There were clothes to be put for laundry? Metagross had already carried them off with psychic. There was a water leakage from one of the pipes? Metagross had already fixed the metal.
And now, as Steven watched the shaving cream appear on his face with expert precision, he was certain that it was his oldest friend who had spoiled him the most over the course of his life. Metagross brushed against Steven’s mind, projecting pride and satisfaction at his conclusion. He chuckled despite the ache rising in his throat.
An unease grew in his chest and forced its way up as a lump. Steven coughed into his arm, and scowled as a burn lingered in his windpipe. Metagross continued their work on the shaving cream while simultaneously offering a telepathic pat on the back.
“Looks like I should take a cough syrup too…”
Indeed.
~0~
Steven departed his home in Mossdeep astride Metagross at nine in the morning, right on schedule. In the end, his partner had done all the work in getting him ready, from the shaving to setting his hair and changing his clothes. Then, they had insisted on also transporting Steven to Ever Grande, refuting his attempts to release Skarmory for the task.
“You have to stay out of your Ball the whole time there, so please rest a bit.” Steven had implored. But what was fatigue to a metallic Pokemon with four brains? The Champion had swiftly backed down from the argument, opting to conserve his own limited stamina for the long day ahead.
The duo were not unnoticed as they flew over the massive crowd of gathered trainers and media alike. Cheers and whistles, and jeers, all rumbled from the ground, loud enough to grate against Steven’s currently sensitive hearing. He maintained his charming smile, waving back at them until Metagross carried them over the Hoenn League building and into the private space reserved for the Champion and his Elite Four.
“Yer finally here.” Drake commented, standing at the far corner of the open area, slitted eyes boring into Steven from under the sailor’s hat. His long coat billowed as he approached to receive the duo. Steven unmounted Metagross, wincing slightly as his vision unfocused for a brief moment.
“I apologize for my tardiness. I didn’t get beat by President Goodshow, did I?” He brushed the moment of weakness off with an easy smile, though it was futile to hope the Dragon Master didn’t catch it with his sharp gaze.
“No, and yer in luck for that. After the latest near-end-of-the-world disaster in Sinnoh, the man’s sure to be in a dampened mood,” Drake said. “Not that it should be affected by your arrival. Your only job for this tournament is to watch the matches.”
There was much the older man did not say, leaving it to settle in between his words, and as he turned to walk towards the inner section of the building, Drake offered Steven a stern tilt of his head. It was only then that the Champion noticed the streaks of sweat running down his forehead and neck. The ache in his body had dissipated for the time being.
Steven sighed somewhat in relief, reaching to place a hand on Metagross’ iron head and gently brush it. “Hopefully, the fever won’t come back during the battles.”
~0~
It came back during the battles.
Steven’s body did not even give him the courtesy to succumb near a break in the matchups either. The fever struck during the second battle of the day, attacking his muscles with acute vitriol. And as if his luck wasn’t bad enough, the battle between the two trainers turned out to be a stall-game, both sides opting for a tactical, evasive approach.
“And Swalot is once again returned to its Poke Ball after setting up Toxic against Sableye! The match has entered its 15th minute with neither side down a single Pokemon. It certainly is rare to see such a stalemate in the first rounds!”
The lone commentator’s voice seemed to still carry enthusiasm behind it, even as the majority of the audience looked as if it was about to fall asleep. Steven would have sympathized with the trainers on the battlefield more if he didn’t feel like he was going to fall apart soon.
Metagross’ gentle presence soothed his mind’s restlessness, calming his nerves and allowing Steven to take deep breaths. He gripped the handles of his chair in the VIP spectators’ box and closed his eyes briefly - not long enough to catch the attention of a stray camera - and recomposed himself.
You have the pills, if we recall correctly.
Metagross projected their voice as a suggestion in Steven’s head. It was like hearing his own voice with an added weight to it. It had been disconcerting at first, as Metang had never initiated contact like that with him, and Metagross had more or less unconsciously done so, therefore not providing a warning. Over the years, having that voice in his head, his but not him, had become his greatest source of comfort.
“Can’t take them here. Don’t worry, surely the battle won’t last for much longer.”
We estimate another 15 minutes, at the very least.
Steven brought his hand up to rest his chin on, suppressing the impatient frustration that wanted to bubble to the surface. Next time, he was going to make sure that two defensive-styled trainers never met in the starting round.
We shall contact the Kadabra monitoring the cameras to veer away from your person.
“I wish you had done that before.” Externally, Steven remained impassive as the stones he favoured, but internally, he was literally burning up.
We apologize, our calculations did not factor in your social consciousness.
There was a hint of amusem*nt in that, and Steven supposed it was a valid jab. The next mental brush he received was cue to procure the painkiller from his jacket pocket, for which he wasted no time in swallowing it. Beside his chair, President Goodshow shot a glance but did not say anything. The man had seemed his usual cheerful self, so perhaps the near destruction of the universe had not dampened his spirits too hard.
True to Metagross’ assessment, the drawn out battle finally concluded after another 15 minutes, in favour of the more proactive Swalot trainer, who had taken the initiative to take the offense after repeated failure to bait the enemy.
The dwindled crowd, which had been close to capacity at the start, gave a lacklustre cheer, sharply contrasted with the energetic proclamation of the announcer. Thankfully, the result of an excessive number of vacant seats, the round was brought to a brief delay to allow spectators who wanted to return time to retake their seats.
Steven grabbed the opportunity to slip into his private room like a man possessed, collapsing into the comfy sofa in a shivering frenzy. His sore throat had developed in earnest, each swallow now a battle against wincing from the irritation.
Thankfully, the lights were dimmed to a bearable level, illuminating the quarters just enough so one could see what was going on.
“Water, please?”
A glass of water materialized beside him, levitating with no bob of up and down. Steven sent waves of gratitude to the forefront of his mind and began to slowly sip on the liquid. It refreshed his mouth even though it stung as he swallowed it.
Steven gave himself another five minutes before he forced himself onto his feet, swaying as the light-headedness from the morning returned. He vaguely felt Metagross halt his disbalance, influencing his body to remain upright.
It was together they exited the room, running into the Ice Master among the Elite Four.
“Champion Steven.” Glacia acknowledged with a respectful nod. Her cold gaze glanced over Metagross briefly before she focused her attention on the silver haired man. Steven could see the thoughts flickering in her cordially controlled stare.
“Elite Glacia. I assume the proceedings have not yet resumed.” Steven nodded in return. It was easy to slip into professionalism with the woman, who valued such customs more than anyone else in the League. She resembled her preferred specialty in such a way - persevering ice types in a region known for its humidity and heat.
“Indeed. There are five more minutes to dawdle about. The delay will extend the duration of the Conference by another day,” she said with slight exasperation.
Steven could sympathize with the sentiment, more so with his condition, but also due to the financial drain it would cause. The Conference itself was a massive undertaking, and an extra day to its runtime would prove to create a larger dent in League finances than usual.
“Perhaps there are updates to be made in the algorithm for early round selections.” Steven patted Metagross as he spoke and earned an acknowledging hum from the floating blue hunk. Glacia smiled in response, bringing her hands together at her stomach.
“I am sure the Board of Directors would be amenable to such an economical solution,” she joked. “I will reconvene with my peers in preparation for the upcoming battles. Take care.” The blonde woman gave a slight bow before she continued on her way.
Steven lingered for a few moments in the empty hall, suddenly feeling as if there was something else afoot here.
Our calculations estimate there is a 90% chance the Elite Four has discovered your sickness.
“There was never any doubt after I slipped up in front of Drake…”
Metagross rumbled an affirmative at that. Steven cleared his throat, winced at the irritation, and was off his way to the VIP box once more. If only his seat was with the rest of the Elite Four, the situation would not have to be so controlled.
But control they did, Steven and Metagross. Well into the evening, when the conclusion of the days’ worth of matchups was announced, Steven was practically dead on his feet. Having entertained the President of the Pokemon League and put on a solid front for the entire nation, he retired from the public eye swifter than a swarm of chasing Beedrill, flanked closely by his trusted companion.
Don’t forget your second dose of cough syrup.
He was presented with the spoon and bottle as soon as he entered his quarters and could not stop the coughs that he had been suppressing for half the day. Grimacing, the Champion accepted the items and quickly took in two spoonfuls.
He deposited them haphazardly on the counter, and stumbled toward the bed, its neat, soft appearance beckoning him. Steven did not bother with anything else, simply letting himself fall onto it, his tired, frail body accepting the loosening of taut muscles, which ached in soreness. Despite that, silver eyes felt shut as sleep overtook them, lost to the world.
Metagross stood watching for several minutes, before their red eyes glowed softly. They gently removed Steven’s shoes and draped the thin but all-encompassing blanket over his form. Keeping their minds together, Metagross lowered themself onto their haunch and resumed a vigil at their companion’s bedside.
Under their insightful gaze, any threats to Steven, whether external or internal, would be identified and sorted with deft minds.
