“…do you think he’s telling the truth?” Shaun heard Ampharos say as he slowly woke up. That’s odd, he thought groggily. I don’t remember Ampharos being in the past.
Floatzel sighed. “I… don’t know. I want to believe him, but… the things he’s saying are so wild that it’s hard to.”
It took him a minute to process what was happening, staring at the roof. He didn’t remember going to sleep in a house. Then again, he didn’t remember much after Eevee had given Buizel the map.
“I haven’t even dared open it, yet,” Ampharos admitted. “He said it was of ‘the archipelago’, but he knows full well we don’t live in an archipelago.”
Shaun tried to roll over and found out that his leg had finally had enough of his shenanigans and refused to work properly. He tried in vain to move it, but with a new splint and general exhaustion, he found it easier to not do that.
He was on the couch in front of the fireplace. The events of yesterday seemed so far away, but his leg very loudly told him that he had, in fact, not imagined things.
Shaun coughed. He blinked in surprise before coughing again.
“Sounds like Shaun’s awake again,” Ampharos remarked unnecessarily. He heard a kitchen chair move, and after a few seconds Ampharos walked into view. He looks as emotionless as ever, Shaun thought as he did.
Ampharos folded his arms. “So. As I understand it, you somehow took my son and Sneasel back in time yesterday.”
“Yeah,” Shaun croaked. He glared at nothing particular and tried to clear his throat, which didn’t do much. “Yeah,” he tried again, with slightly more success. “I’m not really sure what else you want me to say to that.”
Ampharos watched him for a minute. “Hm. You don’t seem very remorseful.”
Shaun glanced at his leg. “Well, maybe I am, a little.” He looked back at Ampharos. “But a lot of good came of it, I think.”
“You didn’t return with Buizel until almost midnight,” Ampharos said.
“Oh, this is about curfew.” Shaun coughed again. “In my defense, the whole, uh, ‘time travel into the past who knows how many years’ thing was an accident.”
Ampharos glanced over the couch at what Shaun could only assume was Floatzel. “Do you have anything for a cough?” he asked.
“Yes,” came Floatzel’s reply. “I’ll get on that.”
Ampharos returned to Shaun. “You’re not technically my child, but you fall under my roof, so I feel like I have to take responsibility.” He gestured at Shaun’s leg. “And that includes getting your leg into a cast. I have no idea what you did to it to so utterly wreck it. Floatzel was shocked that you didn’t pass out when you woke up the first time and she had to set your leg.”
Shaun blinked at Ampharos. “I woke up a first time?”
Ampharos didn’t respond for a minute. “Regardless, we’re taking you down to the clinic later today,” he said. “You also sound like you’re sick, an entirely new and separate issue.”
Shaun groaned. “I already went through this. Can’t I just stay here?” he asked hopefully.
“No,” Ampharos replied. “I figure that taking you to the hospital is a reasonable punishment.”
“What about Buizel?” Shaun asked curiously.
“He has to stay home and help maintain the lighthouse,” Ampharos said. “He’s currently at school, explaining the situation to his teachers.”
“That’s really unfair,” Shaun said before he could stop himself. “We already went through heeeeeeeeck yesterday, and now he has to stay home?”
“He may see that particular issue differently,” Ampharos said, with a hint of amusement. “But no one can possibly verify your claims except for Sneasel, and I get the feeling that she’s in trouble as well.”
“Oh.” Shaun looked at the floor, feeling downcast. “It wasn’t even their fault, they kinda just got wrapped up in it.”
Floatzel arrived with some kind of tea. Shaun drank it gratefully, his throat clearing up a little.
“Regardless, we’re taking you to the clinic.” Ampharos’ tone left no room for argument. “My only consolation is that you’ll actually be forced to rest with your leg in a cast.”
Shaun sighed. “I can’t catch a break, can I?”
Ampharos rolled his eyes with amusement. “Well, you’re going to be getting one, whether you like it or not.”
Buizel arrived back at the lighthouse, which was quiet.
He immediately collected a cup from the kitchen and condensed the surrounding water vapor into it. He sipped it absently as he wandered over to the couch to check on Shaun.
Shaun was playing with his tail. He looked up as he noticed Buizel watching him. “Oh, hey,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Your parents are asleep.”
“So I gathered,” Buizel said, also staying quiet. “How did it go?”
“About like you’d expect,” Shaun replied ruefully. “They’re taking me to the clinic later because of my leg being worse, and apparently I’m sick again.”
“Fun,” Buizel said, sitting down in the armchair and glancing at the unlit fireplace. “I had kinda hoped you’d get to stay longer.”
“I got to stay here like what, a day and a half?” Shaun laughed. “I wish I got to stay here longer, too.”
Buizel took a sip of his water again. “Gosh, I really missed being able to just talk to you. I feel like I’ve just been running and running since you got kidnapped.”
Shaun stared at the ceiling. “Do you think I’ll get kidnapped again?”
Buizel exhaled. “I sure hope not. Most stressful day of my life.”
“History doesn’t repeat itself, but it sure does rhyme,” Shaun quoted. “I think we’ll be stressed either way at the end of this.”
“Yeah.” Buizel stared into his water for a moment, watching his reflection distort in ripples caused by almost imperceptible movements in his paw. “How far back in time did you think we traveled?”
Shaun blew air out of his mouth. “I have no idea, honestly. You’d know better than I would.”
“It was before the Great Disaster, because I didn’t see anything in the sky,” Buizel said. “The giant meteor wasn’t there.”
Shaun’s eyes lit up in comprehension. “Ohhh! That’s what was missing!”
“Yeah.” Buizel nodded. “I didn’t realize it until this morning when I looked up and saw it in the sky. The fact that it, just, hovers there…”
“I don’t know what we’re going to do about it,” Shaun said frankly. “Or if we can do anything about it. It might be better to just evacuate everyone beforehand.”
Buizel shook his head sadly. “Not really an option. Pokemon have lived here for generations, if yesterday was anything to go by. I think they’d object to being forced to leave their livelihoods and homes.”
Shaun batted at his tail again and coughed. “You’d be the one to see that. I’m… not really supposed to be here, so I guess I’m willing to pack up and move more easily.”
There was a peaceful silence for a moment. Buizel leaned back in the chair, trying to hold on to the moment as long as he could.
Shaun coughed again. “Ugh, this sickness is getting worse.”
“I really wish you weren’t sick,” Buizel sighed. “You’re the sickliest Pokemon I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t know why, either,” Shaun mused. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this sick this often.”
“Well, like Dad says,” Buizel said. “Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, thrice is a pattern, and you’ve been sick more than three times at this point.”
“What’s the pattern, then?” Shaun asked curiously.
They lapsed into thoughtful silence again. Buizel tried to link his seemingly random bouts of sickness to anything Shaun had done, but he kept drawing blanks.
“I think it might be whenever the Time Gear activates,” Shaun said suddenly.
Buizel looked at him. “What?”
Shaun listed them off on his paw. “The first time I was sick was when I got here, yeah, sure, Time Gear wasn’t an issue, but then I got completely well suddenly. Then we went to the dojo where we had that fight or whatever and I dodged the apparently undodgeable attack.”
Buizel nodded. “I remember that. You just disappeared ahead of the Swift and then reappeared and slammed into me.”
“I got sick less than half an hour after that,” Shaun continued. “It was really bad for a few hours until I suddenly got well. Again.” He coughed, interrupting himself. “I think the only other time the, uh, Time Gear did something was during my fight with the grass lizard.”
“You weren’t sick after that, though,” Buizel pointed out.
Shaun looked at him blankly before gesturing to his broken leg, which laid sadly on the couch in its splint. Buizel mouthed an “O” and shut up.
“And now I’m sick again,” Shaun said, a little sadly. “Maybe I’ll suddenly get well.” He didn’t sound as if he believed much in the idea.
“I’ll be there for you even if you don’t,” Buizel said simply.
Shaun smiled at him, some of that disbelief lingering in his eyes. “That means a lot.”
They sat in personable silence. Buizel wanted to talk to Shaun more, while he still had the opportunity, but he couldn’t muster up any conversation topics. Not that he needed to.
“I hope Sneasel’s alright,” he said after a while. “She sounded pretty sure that she was also going to get in trouble.”
“Ampharos mentioned that,” Shaun remembered. “Yeah, I hope she’s alright too. She really, really carried us through that mystery dungeon.”
Buizel glanced at him again. “You really need to learn how to fight. You’re pretty helpless when it comes to it.”
Shaun bristled at this. “Hey, I’m not that bad! I’m just… inexperienced!”
“Inexperience will get you killed around here,” Buizel said dryly.
“Can’t, like, you teach me how to fight?” Shaun asked. “You’re pretty good at it.”
Buizel shook his head. “I’m not, really. Besides, you’re an Electric-type, you have an entirely different moveset from a Water-type.”
“I don’t really see how that makes a difference,” Shaun said, cocking his head sideways. “Then again, the whole type-thing has had me confused since I started hearing about it.”
“Different types of Pokemon have different ways of channeling their energy to make moves,” Buizel explained. “Like, for example, you and my dad most likely have very similar methods of creating electricity.”
Shaun sat up a little with interest. “Wait. Wait, really?”
Buizel nodded. “I’ll have to get you a book from the library about the different typings. I can’t remember them all off the top of my head.”
“Mmm.” Shaun stared into space for a second. “This world gets weirder the more I learn about it.”
“Oh?” Buizel asked.
“Yeah, absolutely none of this is familiar to me, so it’s probably not normal back home,” Shaun said. “I still keep trying to grab things with my hands even though I don’t have them anymore,” he added ruefully.
Buizel appraised Shaun. “You had hands as a human?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! And I was a lot taller, too. Kind of miss that, actually.”
“What do humans look like, anyway?” Buizel asked curiously. “We don’t really know what they look like.”
“My memory’s a bit foggy,” Shaun admitted. “But we’re a lot taller, we have hands…” Shaun blew air out of his mouth as he wracked his missing memory for what humans looked like. “We have… hair…”
“I feel like I’d have to see a human to know what you’re talking about,” Buizel said dryly.
“Yeah,” Shaun replied, a tinge of sadness tinting his voice. “I guess it makes sense.”
Buizel glanced out the kitchen window. The sun had already risen past the horizon, indicating that it was now mid-morning. “It’s so easy to forget that the end of the world as I know it happens in a week and a half.”
Shaun laughed a little and then lapsed into a coughing fit. “Yeah, I guess it does, huh?” he said when he could speak again. “I wish that it wouldn’t hit the island. You don’t deserve it.”
“No one deserves it,” Buizel said, glancing at Shaun in concern. “You good?”
“I’ve lived through worse,” Shaun responded, grinning sickly at him.
Buizel stood up. “Yeah, no, I’ve heard that one too many times for it to convince me anymore.”
“Hey, it’s not that bad!” Shaun protested before lapsing into another coughing fit. “It’s just a cough, that’s all.”
“Uh huh.” Buizel was not convinced. Something about the coughing was worrying, but he couldn’t place his finger on it.
Shaun traced his face and then looked at the floor, downcast. “Oh. Sorry.”
Buizel blinked. “For what?”
“I’m being a burden again,” Shaun said heavily. “You should probably just take me to the clinic and leave me there.”
The last few words were said with such weight that Buizel just stood there, feeling like he had been kicked. He walked over to the couch and knelt down by it, taking one of Shaun’s paws in his own. “Shaun,” he said slowly, “look at me.”
Shaun did, almost as if he loathed to. His sick, blue eyes watched Buizel, a slight hint of confusion about them.
“You are not a burden to me,” Buizel said slowly, trying to get it through Shaun’s skull. “You are my friend, and friends look out for each other. And they don’t talk like… this.” He squeezed Shaun’s paw. “I thought going through that made you work through this.”
Shaun broke eye contact and looked away. “I- I’ve been trying. It’s not as easy as just… not thinking about it. I’m… more aware of it, but it’s still… hard.”
Buizel nodded. “I know, but you need to stop thinking like this. It hurts me, too.”
Shaun looked at Buizel again, with faint tears in his eyes. “It- I- I’m sorry.”
Buizel wanted to shake him. “Stop. Please. Just- just don’t ever think that you’re a burden to me. That’s all I’m asking.”
Shaun nodded. “I’ll- I’ll try.”
“Good.” Buizel released Shaun’s paw and stood up. “I’m going to see Dad about taking you to the clinic now. You’re really, really sick.”
Shaun blinked at him. “Getting mixed signals, here.”
Buizel actually did shake him. “I want you to be well so that you can stop suffering, Shaun!”
Shaun coughed in surprise. “Alright, alright! I get it! Calm down!”
Buizel stopped shaking him and backed away, feeling a little embarrassed. “Sorry. I’m just- I want you to be well so that we can do things again. It’s been really hard on me, not getting to really… hang out, I guess.”
“What do you call this, then?” Shaun asked wryly. Buizel’s sudden display of emotion had done more for him than his actual pep talk. “Look, I’ll work on the whole… self esteem, thing. It’s a lot harder than it looks.”
Buizel nodded. “I know, but… please work on it, if for no ‘mon other than me.”
Shaun smiled at him, though it was a little half-hearted. “I’ll try.”
While Ampharos took Shaun to the clinic, Buizel got started on the veritable mountain of chores he had to do.
He would never admit this to his parents, but he had a sneaking suspicion that they let chores like this pile up for occasions like this. In all honesty, he cherished the chance to spend time with his parents and his home. He whistled and even sang a little, even though he missed Shaun the entire time.
When Ampharos returned, Buizel was busy sweeping the floors with a broom that had definitely seen better days. He looked up and nearly dropped the broom onto the floor as he rushed towards Ampharos, who was a little taken aback. “How was Shaun? How was Shaun?!” he asked.
“As fine as you can be while sick,” Ampharos replied, watching his son warily. “They put his leg into a cast immediately. He’s on complete bedrest for at least a day while his leg begins to heal, and they’re looking into what kind of sickness he has.”
Buizel sighed in equal parts relief and disappointment. “I hope he gets well soon.”
“I hope he does too,” Ampharos said, glancing at the broom Buizel was still holding. “You should probably get back to sweeping the floor.”
Buizel looked at the forgotten broom in his hand. “Oh. Right,” he said mareepishly.
He returned to doing the chores around the house again, laughing and joking with his parents while he did so. They seemed surprised and a little worried by the behavior, but his general enthusiasm was contagious.
As the day went on, Floatzel eventually pulled Ampharos aside. Buizel politely pretended not to hear, but he had gotten good at conveniently listening in on his parent’s conversations while doing something else.
“I haven’t seen Buizel this happy in years,” Floatzel said, watching as he dusted the living room while humming a little tune. “Even though he has to do chores, he’s still taking it in stride.”
“All he’s needed is a friend,” Ampharos replied quietly, also watching him. “We’ve known that for years, but we haven’t been able to do anything about it.”
“Though it makes me a little worried about how much chemistry he has with that Shinx,” Floatzel said, folding her hands in front of her. “It’s like they’ve known each other for much longer than all of two or three days.”
Ampharos hummed a tuneless song. “It worries me too, Floatzel. But even with the poor Electric-type being sick, I don’t think that Buizel has ever been happier.”
They were silent for a moment, giving Buizel the chance to rest. He was pretty sure he was almost done with the dusting, but he wanted to know where the conversation was going.
“It still bugs me that the Shinx is so familiar to me,” Floatzel continued, sounding vaguely frustrated. “Ever since Buizel brought him home, he’s jogged memories that just… aren’t there.”
“I’ve noticed that too,” Ampharos said, getting a cup of water. “And he seems to know too much.” He shuddered while tipping the pitcher, causing water to spill. “Arceus, they all know too much,” he said as he collected a dishtowel to clean up the puddle of water on the countertop.
Floatzel watched her husband, concerned. “You could just tell them, you know.”
Ampharos sighed, a long, heavy sigh. “It’s… been on my mind more than I’d want to admit. I’m aware that she knows, but I still need to figure out how to tell Buizel. He already knows about almost every ‘mon already, he just doesn’t know.”
Floatzel nodded sympathetically as Buizel hastily remembered to continue dusting where he left off. “I’m just worried that he’ll find out himself and take it the entirely wrong way.”
“I’ve worried about that constantly,” Ampharos confided. “Especially moreso, after these past few days.”
Buizel finished the last of the dusting and glared at his dustcloth with frustration. He really, really wanted to know what his parents were talking about, but he knew he couldn’t just ask. They were using that tone of voice, the one that told him that he wouldn’t actually be told anything.
Their conversation drifted to less important things, and Buizel quickly swept from job to job, trying to get as many things done as possible. If he finished all his chores early, then he was allowed to have the rest of the day off.
Unfortunately, it didn’t turn out that way. The elevator was broken again, and Buizel had to spend the entire afternoon trying to figure out what was wrong with it. By the time he finally crawled out of the gear room, it was already almost dinnertime, and the sun was already mostly below the horizon.
As they were eating dinner, they heard a knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” Ampharos volunteered. “I’m expecting something, anyway.”
Buizel watched as his father walked to the door and opened it. From where he was sitting, Buizel had a direct view of Cleffa standing in front of Ampharos. “Um, good evening, mister Ampharos,” she said, sounding a little stressed. “Is Buizel still awake?”
Ampharos glanced back into the kitchen in surprise. “Why, yes, what seems to be the issue?”
“That Shinx you brought in has only gotten worse and worse as the day has gone on,” Cleffa continued. “He’s been asking and asking for Buizel, and-“
Buizel stood up so fast he nearly knocked his chair over. “I’ll go.”
His parents looked at him with varying levels of surprise. “Are you sure?” Floatzel asked, her concern almost palpable. “It’s already really late.”
“I’ll go,” Buizel repeated, trying to keep his voice even. Hearing that Shaun had only gotten sicker was a massive, massive red flag.
Ampharos studied his face closely before nodding in consent. “Alright. You can go.”
Buizel ran over and hugged him. “Thanks, dad.” He turned to Cleffa, who had been rocking back and forth with both nervousness and impatience. “Let’s go.”
Even though Buizel didn’t know how “bad” Shaun was, Cleffa still seemed to understand his urgency. They didn’t quite run to the clinic, but they arrived panting with exertion.
Chansey was waiting for them by the door of the sick ward. “Thank Arceus, you’re here,” she said, catching Buizel a little off guard. “He’s in an awful state right now. He’s been calling your name for the past twenty minutes.”
Buizel played with the fins under his arm nervously. “Can- can I go see him?”
Chansey nodded gravely. “We’re not sure he’ll survive the night. Third bed down from the door.”
Buizel felt his heart drop at the words as he walked through the door to the darkened sick ward. It couldn’t be true.
As he approached the bed, he heard soft whimpering. His heart dropped even further as he finally saw Shaun.
In the dark room, it was more of an outline than an actual shape Buizel recognized, but Shaun’s blue eyes shone almost like spotlights as they locked on to his form. “Buizel? Is- is that you?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
Buizel walked to the side of the bed. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Oh, thank you,” Shaun said, his voice cracking terribly. “I’ve felt- so awful- everything hurts, my head hurts, I can’t keep anything down-“
“Shhh.” Buizel found his paw in the dark and grasped it tightly. “Calm down.”
“I can’t!” Shaun sobbed. “I feel like I’m going to die! I don’t want to die! I don’t want you to leave!”
Buizel was very taken aback by this. “I- I mean, I won’t, Shaun, but-“
“Please don’t leave,” Shaun said hysterically, his voice cracking wildly as he spoke. “I- you left already, and I thought I was going to break, why did you leave? Why did you leave, Buizel? Please don’t leave me again…”
Buizel located a chair with his foot and dragged it underneath him so he could sit down. “Calm down, Shaun,” he said, his voice a little shaky. “I won’t leave. You’ll make it through this.”
Shaun’s eyes locked onto him like he was drowning and Buizel had just offered him a life preserver. “R- really? You really think that?”
Buizel gripped Shaun’s paw tighter. “Yes. You will.” Buizel didn’t even want to think about what would happen if he didn’t.
Shaun relaxed ever so slightly. “I’m- I’m so sorry to drag you back out here like this,” he said. “I just- I don’t know, I feel so awful…”
Buizel, curious, felt his temperature. His paw yanked itself back out of reflex. “Th- ow!”
Despite the circumstances, Shaun laughed, albeit a little hysterically. “Extremely high fever, right? I don’t feel very good,” he said, stating the blindingly obvious.
Buizel stared at the outline of his paw in the dark and wondered how Shaun wasn’t already dead. His paw tingled a little, like it had been burnt by a hot coal. “I should think not,” he said faintly.
“I want to sleep,” Shaun said unsteadily. “But when I try to sleep, the dreams try to kill me. I don’t want to die!” he yelled at nothing in particular. “I don’t know what the dreams want! I just- I just want rest,” he said, his voice breaking down.
“How long have you been like this?” Buizel asked.
“I dunno,” Shaun said uselessly. “At least an hour? Maybe two hours? Everything just happened at once, I threw up, I got a headache, I got a fever…” He rocked back and forth. “Th- thank you for being here, man. I don’t think- I think you’re helping me, somehow.”
Buizel cocked his head in confusion. “Huh?”
“Everything hurts less,” Shaun explained. “And, and- things feel more peaceful now.” His voice began tapering off. “Please don’t leave me,” he said faintly, his bright blue eyes fluttering shut as he fell back on his pillow.
Startled, Buizel felt his pulse. It was far higher than it was supposed to be, but it was still active. Buizel sighed a little in relief as he sat back on the stool and watched Shaun sleep.
After a few minutes, Cleffa bounced into view. “How- how is he?” she asked timidly.
“Sick,” Buizel said. “He kept saying that I had left, or something, when I haven’t talked to him since this morning.”
Cleffa nodded. “I think it was a fever dream. He woke up around half an hour before I came to get you, and said that you had broken your promise.”
Buizel felt his heart sink a little lower in his chest. “Oh. Almost all he’s been talking about has been dreams and how he doesn’t want me to leave.”
“Fevers tend to make you obsess over things,” Cleffa said sadly. “Is- is it too much to ask for you to stay here? For the night? We’re still unsure if he’ll last.”
Buizel nodded, desperately trying not to think about Shaun dying. “He’s my friend. I- I need to stay with him.”
Cleffa sighed in relief. “Oh, thank you, Buizel. If you need any water or anything, just come and ask.”
Buizel was afraid to leave Shaun. “Okay, I will. Goodnight, Cleffa,” he said as she bounced away.
It was going to be a long night.
Shaun was running.
He didn’t know from what, or where he was, or why he was running, but he was. All he knew is that he had to keep running. He had to keep running.
His breath began to falter. He couldn’t just give up here, he had to-
Against his will, his legs collapsed underneath him. He slowly drifted down onto a podium in a building that vaguely looked like a museum. Everyone else around him didn’t seem to notice.
A man bent down and checked the inscription. “‘The hunger is your enemy’, huh?”
“Lots of things are your enemies,” another man laughed. “Your own body is one, isn’t it?”
Everyone else around Shaun laughed. He felt like he wanted to shrink into himself and die as he was walking through a dark forest. He didn’t know how long he had been walking, but it had been far too long. Shaun thought he had a map, but he didn’t have the presence of mind to look at it.
As he walked, the forest around him changed into a forest resembling the one he had fought the Grovyle in. A Time Gear rested in its proper place, slowly spinning as it kept time.
Almost against his will, Shaun walked up the steps and looked at it. This one seemed different to the other ones he had seen, somehow.
He reached out a hand and delicately touched it.
It stopped spinning instantly, hovering exactly when he touched it, which happened to be as the teeth of the gear were facing him.
Shaun watched in growing horror as it began to spin like a saw blade, faster and faster, before it suddenly flew at him and embedded itself in his skull.
Shaun began to scream. He tried to pull the gear out of his head, but it batted away the useless attempts as it continued to drill into his head.
He kept screaming, kept trying to claw the gear out of his skull, but nothing happened. The pain began to lessen as it drilled further and further in, but he still kept trying to pull it out, it didn’t belong in there, he-
He bolted upright in the hospital bed, gasping for air.
Buizel practically jumped out of his chair to steady him. “You good?” he asked in a trembling voice.
“I- A Time Gear just- it-“ Shaun realized that his throat was really, really sore.
“You were screaming,” Buizel said, still shaken. “Are you okay?”
Shaun gulped down air. “I- yeah, I’m pretty much- I’m okay,” he managed. He wasn’t. “The- the dreams-“
“Shhhh.” Buizel grabbed his paw again. “Look, I’m here now. You don’t have to scream anymore.”
Shaun slowly reclined against his pillow again. “I- I don’t want to scream anymore,” he said hoarsely. “It hurts. Everything hurts.”
Buizel squeezed his paw reassuringly. “Just get sleep. Please. Chansey told me that all you need is sleep. That’s all you can do.”
Shaun wanted to cry. “The dreams are so bad,” he said, his voice cracking. “I don’t want to run anymore.”
Buizel climbed up onto the bed and hugged him.
Such a simple gesture during such a dark hour broke Shaun in a way that no one could begin to describe. Tears slowly and silently began to roll down his face as he sat there.
“I’m still here,” Buizel whispered. “Please don’t leave me yet.”
Shaun tried to return the hug as best as he was able, which wasn’t very due to his leg being in a cast. “I don’t want to,” he said, his voice thick with tears. “I don’t- I want to stay with you forever. I don’t want to be alone again. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
Buizel began to rock him gently. “I don’t want to be alone either,” he said, his voice soft but shaky. “Please, just… sleep. I don’t want you to die.”
“Sleeping has dreams,” Shaun tearily complained, but the motions of being rocked were making him drowsy. “I- please keep doing- this.”
Buizel looked at him, surprised, but he obliged. “Okay, I’ll try.”
Shaun began to doze. He felt almost at peace, if only the aching would stop.
He slowly began to dream that he was walking through a hallway.
The floor was made of glass, for some reason, but it sounded like stone as he walked on all fours. He blinked and looked down. “That’s new,” he muttered to himself as he saw his semi-familiar blue-and-black furred legs.
Around him, giant blue murals seemed to float in empty space. He couldn’t make out what they were, but they were pretty to look at through the burning sensation in his skull.
As Shaun continued down the hall, he realized that there was something sitting at the end of the hallway. It was entirely dark, the only light being provided by the blue murals.
Approaching it, Shaun vaguely thought it looked like a cat. He hesitated as he approached, feeling like he was disturbing something important. “Um, hello?”
“Well met.”
It didn’t speak, exactly, but Shaun heard the words clearly all the same. He shook his head a little as they echoed through it. “Uh, nice to meet you, too? Who are you?”
“A friend,” it replied simply. “You’ve been deeply afflicted, haven’t you?”
“Afflicted with what?” Shaun asked blankly.
“’The infused will not take kindly to this world,’” the cat quoted, ringing a distant bell of memory. “Do you remember that passage?”
Shaun raised a shoulder and let it fall in an approximation of a shrug. “A bit, I guess. Not like there was much else in that book, anyway.”
“The infused has already given the world its second chance,” the cat said after a moment of silence.
Shaun blinked. “What? When?”
A thread of amusement seemed to ripple throughout the floating murals. “You’re the one who touched that Time Gear.”
Shaun took three seconds to fully process this. “Wait. Wait wait wait. What? How do you know about that? Who are you?”
“Somemon familiar,” the cat replied vaguely. “In fact, I am somemon important that you must find.”
“Why?” Shaun asked, feeling a little suspicious. “You’re saying a lot of weird things and just expecting me to know about them, and also asking me to find you is a heck of a bad idea right now.”
“You have Buizel,” the cat said simply.
Shaun immediately grew defensive. “How do you know about Buizel?” he asked nonchalantly.
It finally turned its head to look at him, but the light from the murals in front of it obscured any defining facial features. “How do you think I am communicating with you?”
Shaun stared at it. “Through Buizel?”
“Through your bond.” The cat returned to staring at a particularly large mural that had just drifted in front of it. “You have built up a bond of friendship that many do not even begin to match.”
Shaun shuffled a little uncomfortably. “Oh, really? Um, it sure doesn’t feel like it.”
The cat didn’t seem to hear this. “You hold the three things that you need to find me already.”
“I do?” Shaun asked, confused. “Why do you need me to find you?”
“All in good time,” the cat replied, choosing to answer vaguely. “You must rest now. You have a long road ahead of you.”
Shaun looked at- through the glass floor. “I- I can’t. The dreams won’t let me,” he admitted shamefully.
The cat stood up and walked over to him, as if the glass floor would shatter if it so much as breathed on it. Shaun backed away from it a little out of habit.
It gently laid a paw on his forehead. “Lord Arceus, please grant this one rest and protection against afflictions of the mind. We must save lives that you have created and cherish so deeply.”
And then Shaun was asleep.