Chapter 47
Also, this is a chapter that is extremely sad, filled with tremulous grief, and misery. Please be prepared.
EDIT: Posted wrong chapter by mistake at the start. That's embarrassing.
All things considered, Ralts wasn’t turning out to be as bad to babysit as he originally thought. Yes, her quite snobby and regally dignified way of speaking was grating, but she was more than content to be allowed to wander and explore both his home and ranch.
As it was later in the evening, Ethan was relaxing on his couch as he watched some kind of battle channel. It wasn’t anything overly impressive, just notable battles from either gym challenges or random tournaments. Though, it was very detailed. Profile pictures and stats for each trainer and pokemon flashed on screen, reminiscent of ESPN showing the stats of Earth’s sports players.
With the faint blip of Teleport, Ralts appeared on her butt in front of him. She stood with a faint audible “Ral”, wiped herself down, then jumped up to scramble onto the sofa, kicking and flailing her legs as she heaved herself up with her tiny arms. Ethan raised an eyebrow as he sipped from a Sitrus smoothie. “Done exploring my home?”
Ralts plopped herself down next to him. “To wander your halls is to unveil the essence of your domain, as if each corner and crevice whispers secrets meant only for those bold enough to seek them.” She finished as she pulled out a very familiar but forgotten item and opened it like a book on her small lap.
Ethan was so surprised at the sight of his old Earth wallet that he froze with his cup up at his lips. Ralts ran her hands across the old, worn leather and pulled out several useless business cards and his now defunct driver's license.
“Hmm. In the shadows of your home, I seem to have uncovered relics of a forgotten past—items worn with age, yet rich with the weight of untold stories, quietly lingering where time left them behind. Oh?” Ralts pulled out a small rectangular photo from one of the slots, and it was then that Ethan finally moved. He hurriedly snatched the small, precious photo out of her grasp and shoved it into his pocket.
Ralts narrowed her eyes as she stared at her now empty hands, then slid her accusatory gaze to Ethan. He took a deep breath, then ignored her. “Don’t ask.”
She ‘Hmphed!” in his mind, then awkwardly slid off the couch. She gave him a curious glance, not one of indignation—almost as if she could peer past his facade. “I take my leave. I shall find the maestro who twists the simplest fare into a masterpiece.”
Ethan sighed in relief as she waddled a few feet before blipping with yet another Teleport. After parsing her words, he assumed she was going to go find Shuckle who’d been conned by sweet and regal words to share his berry juice earlier when the two had met. He squeezed the small photo in his pocket as his heart felt heavy.
To distract himself, Ethan let go of the small photo and grabbed the two pokeballs in his pocket. One of them was Ursaring’s worn Ultra Ball, and the other was his formerly last unused pokeball. He clicked the button, releasing the youngest and newest member of his family.
“Emol?” Emolga yawned as she appeared in his lap. She looked around, finding nobody but Ethan, then smiled and crawled up his chest. Knowing what she wanted, he smiled as he gently played with Emolga, dropping her from several feet in the air to have her glide and spin in circles as she giggled and landed in his lap.
After a solid fifteen minutes of playing ‘throw the Emolga’, she tuckered out and fell asleep. Playing with her like that was a good way for her to learn how to control her body and whatever weird poke-magic allowed her to fly under her own power. They hadn’t gotten to the flight part yet, only gliding down, but baby-steps for a literal baby pokemon sounded like a solid plan.
He returned her to her pokeball and then looked to the ceiling while drowning out whatever sounds came from the television. His heart was still taut and weary, and the feeling wasn’t going away. He knew he had some trauma or problems to take care of, but he didn’t really know a good—healthy way to go about fixing them.
He knew he was the kind of person to jump into work to escape the realities of life. He’d done it time and time again, without fail; Back on Earth and here.
Find yourself stuck in the world of pokemon? Can’t find help? Well, let’s go ahead and plant several hundred trees to keep yourself busy and sane. The League meets with you and knows of your past? Good, hopefully they ignore you specifically so they can deal with all the messed up and horrible people, mythical beings capable of changing the world at their whims, and the knowledge of ‘The Chosen One Ash’. Stressed? Well, l suppose I’ll go back to where I feel safe and immediately jump into some more work I’m not actually prepared for.
Finding something to do to tear his mind away from his problems wasn’t healthy, but it worked. Maybe too well. He’d nearly had an episode in front of Shuckle earlier… That couldn’t happen. He needed to be his rock’s rock.
His new reality was both a blessing and a curse. Deep down, he knew he was never going back to Earth. While yes, he could hypothetically seek out the llama god Arceus and plead his case up atop the Spear Pillar or something, but he wasn’t… he couldn’t do that. He wasn’t capable of the feat. Nor did he think he would ever be.
Life on Earth wasn’t the greatest, but it wasn’t bad. He had a stable job he enjoyed, friends, acquaintances, family… Family hurt the most. Thank god—or Arceus, he wasn’t sure—that he didn’t have his own family; A wife, child, or anything like that. If that had been the case… Well, it’s best not to dwell on hypotheticals.
A tear strolled down his cheek as he lazily watched a commercial which flickered on the screen. He couldn’t help but think of his mom as his tears flowed freely and his throat tightened. How she must have felt knowing that her son is gone, probably assumed dead. His mother was a strong-willed woman who would stop at nothing until he was found. Even if years passed, she would always believe he was alive, and that was the worst part…
Because he would never see her again.
He choked in his quiet sobs, as to not disturb his pokemon as the thoughts continued.
His mother would be left searching for someone who couldn’t be found because they weren’t even on the same planet or fucking dimension!
Ethan slammed his fist into the nearby cushion, then leaned forward to cover his face in his hands as he shook.
Grief had settled over him like an indescribable weight, an endless void that stretched out into time. His heart hurt. It throbbed and thudded, filling his ears and drowning out the television. The ache of absence, the silence where laughter had once filled the memories. His life seemed haunted by them, each one a painful reminder of the irreplaceable bond that had been severed.
What made his grief even worse was the knowing permanence of that separation—the realization that he would never see, hear, or hold his mother again in this life. The finality of it all cut the deepest, leaving him with only the fragments of moments he had once taken for granted. Random calls to ask how he was doing after a long day of work, if he had finally found a girlfriend or something more, the invitations to drive down for dinner which he declined. Yet, in the sorrowful memories, there lingered love—the eternal connection that not even this separation could fully erase, though the absence of her presence would always be felt. His grief became both the pain of loss and the testament to the depth of that love.
Ethan shuddered as he took out the crumpled picture from his pocket and stared at it through bleary eyes. A picture of Ethan and his mom on his twenty-first birthday out at a fancy bar. They were both drunk as all hell, but they smiled and laughed as a stranger took the photo. He flattened the crumpled picture out as best as he could, then stuffed it gently back into his old and worn leather wallet so that he could see it whenever it opened.
Before he even realized it, Ethan was in his bed, curled up in a ball as he cried himself to sleep.
It was times like these where Ralts wished she couldn’t feel emotions. Her temporary Human caretaker was one of the most emotional beings she had ever met. During her brief meetings with the man called Ethan, he was a shining beacon. None of his emotions were ever muted, just as her mother had warned. Oftentimes, he was either content, worried, or filled with love for pokemon. Bearable feelings, quite nice to experience, all things considered.
But now? Now, he was a deep lake filled with so much grief that she couldn’t stop herself from weeping as she sat on the steps of his humble home, too afraid to get closer to the beacon of pure anguish inside. She did not know who that other human in that picture was, but she knew that they were the cause of his unceasing torment. She had learned her lesson of prying into his mind, and now she knew the dangers. Her mother’s warning made complete sense. If she peeked beneath the fold right now, she’d drown in his seemingly endless desolation.
She wanted his outburst to end, but she could do nothing for him. Her mother could ease him, but she wasn’t strong enough. Not yet.
“Why are you crying?” A gentle, masculine voice asked.
Ralts wiped her eyes as she gazed down upon the waking Oddish and Gloom. The Gloom, leader of his coven, sauntered forward. A frown marred his normally aloof face as he gazed up at her, the moon overhead reflecting off his large, open eyes. Ralts waved him away with as much grace as she could manage. “Fret not, for these tears are of another. I shed them not for my own grief, but as a tribute to a sorrow that is not my own. They are a reflection of the pain I have witnessed, a silent testament to empathy, and a now shared burden.”
The Gloom’s eyes narrowed, but he eventually nodded. “You are safe here.”
“I know…” She replied. A final tear fell as she felt Ethan fall asleep.