Chương 18: Chapter 17

It feels as though I'm running through molasses, but I push on, muscles burning as I ascend. The horrible sound, like the grinding of a giant's nails across a chalkboard, continues without mercy as I keep sprinting up the stairs, knowing that if I don't reach- Something freezing presses against my face, and everything shifts. The world spins for an eternity as I work to recognize the feeling. It has to be one of Weaver's- I bolt awake, batting at the claw, "Weaver?" I groan, trying to blink the sleep from my eyes.

"Weav, weav!" My partner gesticulates wildly, obviously worried about something, though she keeps her voice low.

"What is it? And what time is it?" I ask her, looking at the wall clock. it shows oh-two-twenty.

"Vile!" Weaver slaps my arm before pointing at the floor by the foot of my bunk. What has her so… Espeon is sitting there, shaking and hyperventilating. His gem is flickering wildly, ears pulled back, and eyes unfocused. He's in another feedback loop.

"Hells," I swear, disentangling myself from the bed and marching for the door, Weaver one step behind me.

"Weaver." I stop at the entrance, "I need you to stay by him and keep him from hurting himself-" I tell her, cutting myself off for a moment before I finish the order, "And if he starts using telekinesis, you need to knock him out, understood?"

"Weav," My partner says with a salute, smacking her joints together as she straightens her legs. I know she's playing it up to reassure both of us, but it still works. I give Weaver a nod before turning and heading for the office. Reaching it, I quickly dial the combination into the locked steel cabinet we keep the dangerous equipment in. Because yes, REDs are dangerous, even if most people won't understand how until they're on the floor and struggling to breathe.

I grab my empathy device, check its tag to make sure, and march back to the barracks. Weaver isn't standing next to Espeon, thankfully, as she knows better than to get that close. She's watching the psychic-type intensely from a few meters away, the only acknowledgment I get being a flick of the ears. I move to within two meters of Espeon before I calm myself, focus on wanting Espeon to be okay, and pull the trigger.

It takes entirely too long before his gem stops flickering, and he tiredly blinks at me a few times before he stops, eyes closed and unconscious in a sitting position. There's a bit of shuffling as the once-sleeping pokemon in the room try to figure out what just woke them up until they realize I have it handled and go back to sleep. Sighing quietly, I lift Espeon and make my way out and into the kitchen. I'm not getting back to sleep today, not after that, so I place the unconscious pokemon on the table and just…

stare, deep in thought. I've thought something was up since Weaver kept giving him looks, but I don't know what it is. He went into another feedback loop, but why? And it was more dangerous this time since he had energy. Except, he passed out once he was out of the loop, didn't he?

"Weaver?" I ask to the air, and my partner silently appears.

"Has he slept at all?" She considers the question, lacking her usual theatrics, then shakes her head, "Vile," She says, looking thoughtfully at Espeon.

"Weavile, weave," She continues, pointing at the sleeping pokemon. I follow her finger and see Espeon twitching and thrashing slightly, a feline grimace on his face. So, nightmares, oh how I wish I could say I don't understand that particular problem.

"I don't know what to do for him," I admit, leaning my head into one hand to massage it.

"I can't keep the RED going, even in bursts, for all that long," I say, glancing at Weaver. She has a look of concern on her face, then she blinks, looking as though she's realized something, before holding up a claw for me to wait and blurring out of the kitchen. Well, I hope she has a good idea because I certainly don't know how to help a traumatized empath. ▲▲▲ ▼▼▼ I don't know if I can thank Marshal enough for teaching me this. I also don't know how to feel about what it's helped me notice. Up, shrink, slow.

It took me a few hours to figure out what I was feeling, and now I'm… genuinely starting to question my ability to take care of myself. I'm feeling content, and it's strangely alien. And I've realized that the last time I felt like this was years ago, back when I landed my first stable job. It felt like everything would work out, and I could just be satisfied with my life. down, loop, invert. But feeling that way shouldn't be an event, right? And yet, here I am.

And sure, I know I'll be feeling bored again soon enough, but I'm pretty sure I can get back to this feeling relatively easily. Not like before I died, but then, almost anything would be better than that. And… launch. The ball of psychic energy I've been fiddling with these last few minutes accelerates out of my control range, passing over countless trees before it fades away. I think one of the problems I'm having with accepting being happy is that I'm kind of…

I'm expecting things to go wrong at some point, I think. But that thinking feels as if it was learned. Like it's leftover pessimism or lingering unhappiness, but I don't have a lot of reasons to feel that way anymore, not really. I look up at the moon, not quite sure if it's finished waxing or not yet. I still feel it's light filtering into me, comforting me. I don't know what changes when it reflects off, but I'm glad I can expand my cloud in its light. Speaking of, I reel it in for a snack.

Hmm, not a lot in there, but that's why it's a snack. Some sorrow, some trepidation, a little fear, and someone is a bit nervous. There isn't a lot of quantity to any of it though, it's just the normal background. Deciding to spin up ghost-stuff this time, I keep idly practicing control. Simply painting power in random swoops and swirls, trying to do better than simply pouring it out. Hmm… Oh, sure, why not try that? Thanks, ghost-instincts.

Following my burst of desire, I start trying to, for lack of a better descriptor, 'imbue' something on the power. It doesn't seem to do anything, but if my instincts say it should work then I'm going to trust them. What is it that I'm trying to push into the power? Maybe that's the problem, that I don't have a good idea of what I want to happen. Should I try something that I've done to myself? What about gravity, how does that work?

I make another line of power, focusing on how I make gravity affect me while I do so. That works!? The curving line I made falls through the air, fading before it hits the ground. Wait! The orbs felt empty, is this why? Let's see, pour it out in a sphere, not too much at once, just enough to sustain it. There we go. Or… should I have tried to fill it as I was making it? No, that doesn't feel right, it feels like I should do that part now. So, what do I fill it with? I guess I should go with gravity again.

Nothing about the sphere seems to change, but it doesn't feel empty anymore, so I think that worked. I… don't have a target right now, great. Launching it at the ground! And it does nothing, okay, I suppose it needs a different target. Hmm… This is a bad idea, but I'm probably immortal, so the worst that will happen is some pain, right? Sure, whatever makes me feel better about this. And launch! Oh, ooh, ho'kay. Uh, I don't know what this is. It feels like I'm being dragged down, but I'm still floating.

This is an extremely fucking strange feeling. At least I now understand what the orbs do. They force a… whatever it is that I shoved into it onto the target. Um, is there a way to stop the- Huh, I guess I was the one controlling it. That's nice. Wait, Weaver? What's she doing here this early? ▲▲▲ ▼▼▼ Espeon still hasn't woken up, despite the obvious bad dreams that are making him twitch and mewl. I'm becoming uncomfortable because I tried waking him up, and he won't.

I want to believe I can take care of him, but if he has major psychic issues we might need to find a better place for him. Except I've already sent his paperwork in, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't feeling attached to the frail cat. He needed help, and he still needs it, just in a different way now. I'm waiting for either Espeon to wake up or Weaver to get back with whatever her idea was. I can only hope she knows something I don't, and that she'll have a good solution.

It's been nearly ten minutes, though, and I'm starting to worry. Weaver is fast, which is typical for a weavile, and she should be able to reach the other end of the city in three minutes if she pushes it.

"Weav," And there she is.

"Seasons, how far did you-" I stop, looking at the entrance to the room. The misdreavus is floating behind my partner, looking nervous. Why would she bring… Right, they're an affectivore. That's a genuinely great idea, as Espeon can't go into a feedback loop if something eats all the emotions first. And glancing at Espeon, he's not moving as much anymore, so the ghost is already helping.

"Weav weavile, weave?" The sharp-clawed pokemon asks, also looking at Espeon.

"Mis…" The ghost-type replies, voice trailing off cautiously.

"Misser, mis, dreav, mismis." They pause, looking concerned.

"Midreavus mis misser."

"I wish I'd thought of that. Good job, Weaver." I tell my partner, relaxing as Espeon seems to calm in his sleep.

"What made you think of them?" Aside from their obviously budding friendship.

"Weavile," She says, darting away back down the hall. Leaving Misdreavus looking suddenly more nervous.

"You're not afraid of chasing groups of people off, but I make you nervous?" I chuckle at the affronted look on their face, "We've got a record of you scaring at least twelve people yesterday alone." They blink at that, opening their mouth to respond before closing it and blinking again.

"Misser," They seem to state, more to themselves than to me." Weav vile!" Weaver declares, bouncing into the kitchen with a book- No, with the book, the one I bought to teach her how to read,'Tales of Yester Years: A Compendium of Myths and Legends.' Weaver has it turned to a specific page,'The Nightmare and the Witch Who Devoured It.'

It's one of the stories with an original photo on the opposite page, fancy calligraphy, and over-done artwork depicting an indistinct figure with a pointy hat consuming a sleeping man's dream. Interesting, but why did this make her get the misdreavus? I quickly skim the text, searching for anything that could be related. … and the witch did curse the nightmare… … The man, thankful for the aid of the traveling witch, offered her of his home, and his food… …

And as the sun rose on the seventh day, the witch vanished, little more than a ghost on the wind. That- The last line is the only time the word ghost is mentioned.

"Weaver?" I query my partner.

"Vile Weavile," She gestures to Misdreavus. I can't deny that they seem to be helping, but I still don't understand her thought process, "I know they're helping, I'm just confused about how this made you think of them." Weaver seems at a loss, looking between the book and me a few times before turning to Misdreavus, "Vile, weavile vile. Weave?" She asks them.

"Dreavus?" The floating pokemon asks in return, drifting closer to me and eyeing the book. They tilt in the air, eyes glossing over the words to land on the illustration.

"Mis… misser mis." They say, nodding. Weaver gestures between the picture and Misdreavus, clearly seeing something I'm not. I look at the picture again, trying to see what she means. Pointy hat, draped robe, indistinct face. It looks like a witch.

"I still don't see what you mean," I inform my partner. Weaver sighs, rubbing her chin as she thinks about what to try next. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Dreave mis, misdreavus?" The ghost seems to ask, pointing one of their tendrils at the page. Weaver blinks, then her eyes light up in joy. She motions to me for the book, so I give it to her.

"Weave weavile, weave. Vile weavile," She says to Misdreavus, hopping into a chair and beckoning them closer. She's… She's reading the story to them. Well, there goes my chance at an answer. Honestly, she seems to have become attached to the misdreavus after they let me stay in their den. They seemed to have a rather long conversation there, too. Although Weaver had seemed a bit hostile at the start. I sigh, finally deciding to take a seat after all the stress of Espeon breaking down in the middle of the night.

Conscripting the help of a wild pokemon isn't unusual, it's normally the ranger doing it, but at least Espeon is sleeping peacefully for the moment. I'm going to need to ask all those questions I was hesitant to before, about his past and what the smugglers did to him. Though the misdreavus will likely need to be present to smooth that over if I'm right about what Espeon's been through. Hmm, I'm going to need coffee today.

Maybe I should see if Holt will tell me where I can find a really good drink, she seems the type to learn where to find them. Regardless, I should probably start the coffee maker soon. ▲▲▲ ▼▼▼"-little more than a ghost on the wind," Weaver says with finality, closing the storybook.

"I knew I recognized that description from somewhere, and I'm pretty sure there's another story in here that mentions a 'Miss Magius,'" She tells me, caressing the cover of what is, apparently, her favorite book. Then she frowns, "You know, I don't think I've opened this in two years." Weaver's face twists into a complicated expression, and I feel compelled to ask, "Hey, you okay?"

"I- Yeah. You ever have a moment when you realize you've grown up?" She asks, glancing at me. I can't help laughing for a moment before it peters out as I taste another wave of pain and terror.

"Yeah, several. I guess it happens to pokemon, too." We fall into silence, Weaver leafing through her book while my eyes start roaming around, trying to ignore the tastes of fear, panic, and hatred. This- I can see why Espeon was trying not to feel all this, and I feel a bit bad that to me it's all just… food. Terror seems to be another taste that I find particularly appetizing as well, and I still don't know how to feel about finding those flavors so delicious.

At least there's a lot less of them coming off him now. Movement, catches the corner of my eye, and I swivel to see Onaga prepping a- Wow, I mean, there are only so many ways to do certain things, but that is just a countertop coffee maker. … I shouldn't be surprised by that, so many other things are similar, if not the same. Hmm, I wonder if she'd let me have some. I'm not—or possibly wasn't, still not sure—one of those people who are so dependent on coffee that I had some every day, but I enjoyed it on occasion.

And I do want to enjoy things again.

"Hey, Misdreavus?" Onaga says, pulling my attention back to her. I know she's addressing me, but it feels weird how she uses 'Misdreavus' as my name.

"Yes…?" I reply, more tentative than I'd like. I can hear Weaver snicker beside me. Onaga glances at me, and, seeing that I'm looking at her, continues, "I'd like to ask if you can help me question Espeon later today since you can help keep him out of a feedback loop. Normally we're allowed to offer things like food and basic aid for stuff like this, but I'm fairly certain it will be its own reward," She doesn't quite ask me, filling the reservoir on the coffee maker.

Yeah, I'm not sure if there's a limit to how much I can eat, but this is definitely testing that. And 'feedback loop'? Is that why he's giving off less now? Should I stay?

"Weaver?" I ask the weavile, turning so I can see her again.

"What do you think?" She glances at me, then at Espeon, "I-" She frowns, closing her book again.

"I don't want to tell you to help, but… I would appreciate it. Espeon's not- Well, you told me what he's feeling, so you already know," She says, shrugging.

"I haven't been able to get to know him yet, but Ryu's already treating him as part of the team, and he wants to be on it." I sigh, then wince as Onaga puts a hand to her ear and shakes her head a bit at the sound. I have been having trouble finding things to do, so why not?

"Sure, I can do that," I say, nodding at the ranger.

"Right," Onaga nods. Turning back to the counter, she continues, "We were going to collect that old piece of furniture from your den today, just so you're aware." That's… not the first time I've heard someone call my cabin a den. And I can understand it, sort of, but it's a house. A small one, sure, but' den' feels like where you'd find some kind of dangerous- Oh, yeah, I guess I am, aren't I?

Another burst of emotions, this time fear, terror, and surprisingly, a small bit of defiance has my focus moving back to Espeon. He's still asleep, but I'm hoping his obvious nightmare is ending. The way emotions have been rolling off him in waves is interesting, but I'm willing to put it down to psychic-type strangeness.

"Is he getting any better?" Weaver asks, noticing where I'm looking.

"Maybe, I think I just tasted the first positive emotion from him," I tell her, backing off from the unconscious pokemon slightly.

"I don't know if it's a good thing that I ate it." Weaver hums at that, returning to flipping through her book.

"Did something change?" Onaga asks, glancing over her shoulder with one hand in a cabinet. I- Hmm, "Maybe?" I say, equivocating with two arms. What happened to him to make him so afraid of whatever he's dreaming of? … I guess I'll find out, won't I? I smell coffee. Glancing over, I see the ranger measuring a scoop of coffee grounds into the filter. Never mind not being one of those people who lived for the stuff, that small bit of familiarity has me wanting a cup, just to feel normal again.

These last two weeks have been a mixed bag of strangeness, friendly faces, revelations—good and bad, and a growing sense that normal doesn't exist and is just a word.

"Could I have some?" I ask Onaga, pointing to the coffee maker. Weaver makes a choking noise, "A- U- Uh, Smokey?" She says, seeming a bit off balance.

"You know how bitter that stuff is, right?"

"Hmm?" Onaga glances at me again, at what I'm pointing at, then back to me with an odd half-smirk on her face, "You want to try some of this when it's done?" She asks. I nod, which seems to reinforce her smirk, "Okay." I don't miss the anticipation and small bit of mirth I start tasting after a moment before it's washed away by defiance and fear. Ah, Espeon is clearly starting to feel better, that wasn't a lot of fear." Smokey?" Weaver waves a hand in my face, "You know what you're in for, right?"

"I've had coffee before," I tell her, lightly pushing her hand away.

"I just… I want things to feel normal, at least for a little bit."" And that involves drinking, that stuff?" She asks with a concerned look.

"Kind of, yeah," I say, half shrugging.

"It was fairly normal to drink at the beginning of the day where I worked. When I was human. And you know you can mix milk and sugar into it to make it more palatable, right?" Weaver pauses, thinking about it, then, "Oh, okay. Yeah, I was just thinking about how Piplup reacted when he tried some. It makes sense you'd know what it's like." She grins slightly, "You're going to surprise Ryuko when you don't spit it out." We both share a small chuckle.

Then the next wave of emotions hit me, it's a mix of sorrow and a kind of pleased happiness.

"Espeon isn't having a nightmare anymore," I tell Weaver.

"Yeah?"

"I'm pretty sure, at least. He's a bit sad and happy at the same time, so I think he's just dreaming now," I tell my friend.

"That's good," She says, seeming to lose a bit of tension.

"I hope I won't need to come grab you again later."

"I don't mind," I say, smiling.

"I'm so bored half the time that having anything to do is good. Hey, you want to help me test something later?" Weaver gives me an obviously faked suspicious look, then grins, "Sure, we might have some time before the day starts, depending on when he wakes up," She says, pointing at Espeon. Then her eyes trace back to where Onaga is, "Looks like your drink is ready." And, indeed, the ranger is pouring out three steaming cups of coffee.

"It's hot," She says, carrying one over to the table.

"I'm not sure how much heat you can take, so maybe let it cool off for a few minutes." I'm not totally sure how much I can take, either. My body's so different from before that I don't know what 'too much heat' could be. Although, if most pokemon can take hits from fire-types like I assume… It takes me a moment to decide between physically gripping the cup and a psychic hold, but I decide to pick it up with an arm, wrapping the appendage around it.

It's hot, and I can tell it's hot, but it's not burning, so I'm assuming that regular heat isn't a big problem for me. Onaga's lips quirk up as I lift the drink to my face and blow- How the hell? I move the drink away and blow out a puff of air. I'm still not inhaling, and I don't know if this counts as exhaling because I don't feel any air moving inside me.

"You okay?" Onaga asks, glancing between my face and the cup. I nod, still distracted by how I'm moving air. I think I'll put it down as another ghost thing for now, as that makes at least some sense. In the same way that I can make noise by wanting to sigh. Or make noise in general, I guess. I decide to focus on my drink again. Bringing it to my mouth, I take a tentative sip to test the temperature, then down a mouthful.

It's honestly much better than the cheap stuff I've had before at work, and the simple action does make me feel more grounded. Onaga blinks, she's smiling, but her eyes are a bit concerned and I can taste the confusion. After a moment where she seems to be waiting for me to do something, I take another drink.

"Okay, I wasn't expecting that," She chuckles, joining Weaver in the action.

"Are you enjoying it, or just messing with me?" I consider that, then decide to shrug and take another sip before setting the now half-full cup down. Onaga rolls her eyes, "Yeah, definitely friends with Weaver," She mutters.

"I'm going to take Katie her cup now, be right back." She grabs one of the remaining two cups, stops to look at me one more time, and then leaves the room." Were you messing with her?" Weaver asks, still chuckling slightly.

"Only after she asked," I reply, drifting over one of the chairs by the rectangular table.

"Like I said, it was normal for me to have a cup some days."

"If you say so," The weasel-cat shrugs.

"So, what have you been doing?" She's starting the small talk now? …Things did happen rather fast.

"Practicing, some control exercises Marshal told me about, and this," I say, summoning an orb. Weaver stiffens slightly, "Please tell me that's not destructive."

"It's not," I say, flicking it at myself and once more feeling something like gravity.

"I'm not sure what it is, really, but it doesn't explode." Weaver looks at me a moment longer, and then her eyes narrow, "Was that what you were throwing around yesterday?" I… When did she see me doing that?

"Yeah, I was. How did you know that?" I ask." Ryu and I saw you while we were headed for Nabiki. It was hard not to, with how many flashes there were," Weaver tells me, resting her head on the back of one hand.

"You then proceeded to throw a lot of them at one of the guided groups, remember? And we got to hear all about that."

"…I wasn't in the mood to deal with them at the time," I admit, deciding to take another sip of my drink.

"I gathered, yeah," Weaver laughs, shaking her head.

"Should make them leave you alone though."

"I hope it does," I say as Onaga reenters the room. The woman looks at Espeon, then at me before glancing at Weaver and sighing as she moves to pick up her coffee.

"My routine is shot for the day, Weaver, so we won't be going for a run," She says, sipping at her drink.

"I'm tempted to try using a chesto to wake Espeon up, but I think he needs the sleep." She pauses for several moments, slowly sipping her coffee.

"How is he doing, anyway?" She asks me. The waves of flavor the psychic cat has been giving off are mostly minor, indistinct flashes of random emotion now.

"You're better at this than me Weaver," I say, looking at the other feline in the room, "Can you let her know he's sleeping peacefully?"

"Sure," She says, giving me a wry sort of smile.

"There isn't much to it, though. Watch." Having said that, she clasps her hands together, places the side of her head on them, closes her eyes, and ever so slightly smiles. Deciding to play it up, I sweep my arms as if to present the scene to Onaga.

"Like that," I say, tasting relief and amusement.

"I can see why you two get along," She smiles.

"And thank you for helping Espeon." I did almost nothing but show up and eat, but I'm glad to have helped. I give the woman a nod before downing the last of my beverage, sighing contentedly. Still feels odd, but it's the good kind of odd feeling, like you could bask in it all day and not be tired of it. My mind wanders in peace as we all remain silent, Onaga slowly sipping from her cup with her eyes closed. And Weaver occasionally flipping a page in her book, a small, genuine smile on her face.

A thought from about twenty-eight hours ago resurfaces, "Hey, Weaver?" I say, grabbing both my target's and Onaga's attention before the latter realizes I'm talking to the weavile.

"Where exactly is Almia? Or, scratch that, where is everything?" Weaver lets out a raspberry at that, "That's a big question. Let me think…" She trails off, searching the ceiling.

"I'm pretty sure we have some maps of Almia and Sinnoh, but I don't know about a world map. Maybe at the library?" She answers, eyes landing on me. I nod, "Okay then. And you're still going to teach me to read?"

"Yeah, I said I would, so I will," She confirms, nodding back.

"We could probably start today…" She trails off, eyes shifting to the passed-out pokemon, still on the table for some reason.

"Or maybe not, I think it depends on how things go with him."

"I'm… not sure what's going to happen there," I say.

"What do I do if he starts messing with his emotions again?"

"You tell me, and I stop him," Weaver shrugs.

"It's pretty simple. I'm Ryu's second, and he's still young." That makes another thought from around twenty-nine hours ago strike me, "How… How old is he?"

"I'm not sure, but he shouldn't be an espeon yet," Weaver tells me, frowning.

"I'm hoping we can find out what happened, soon." The silence feels a bit heavier after that. ▲▲▲ ▼▼▼" Sorry, Boss, but since the Rangers got involved there's been too many eyes for us to try and get them out," The grunt's voice rattles down the line. I withhold a sigh, "And the extraction team?"

"We haven't heard from them, but the Rangers haven't said anything to the police about something out there, so we should be good."

"What of the capture teams and the freight?"

"The capture teams are almost ready, they should be able to start tonight. And the freight… Sorry, Boss, but we can't get to it anymore, the Rangers were the ones who dealt with it." Unfortunate, those shipments constituted the majority of the profit from this venture. Hmm, Perhaps…

"You had told me that someone approached you with an offer of aid to extract our people from custody, take it. A connection may be the most valuable return we can gain now."

"Got it, Boss. Anything else?"

"No," I say curtly, hanging up the phone. Only now, without anyone to witness, do I allow myself a sigh.