Desolate [Pokémon Arven x Protagonist]

Trauma Only Fades

Arven was looking over the edge, frighteningly close to the unguarded drop. The lab was within a few minutes' walk and was isolated in the middle of a shallow pond. It looked tiny, buried and lonely, no sign of life within. The laboratory was built around one of the giant crystals protruding from beneath the water, making it seem even smaller. Nemona was standing behind him, watching out for both his safety and the destination below. Penny shuffled beside them, "Th-there was definitely something off about the professor just now, right?

Nemona shuffled over and hugged her at the side, shaking her playfully, "Maybe it was just a little dramatic flair to get us all jazzed up for more adventuring!" She wiggled her fingers sinisterly to emphasize her fantastical scene.

Penny pushed her away, not buying her hypothesis. "What? That got you... jazzed?" She really emphasized the last word as if she'd never heard it before.

Hand now levitating freely, Nemona swung it into an awkward, adventurous fist. "Yeah! Maybe even big-timed jazzed!"

Penny made a face. "You need to go see a doctor."

Before Nemona could defend herself, Arven started his prediction, "I'm pretty sure that call was really—" He froze up again, that same empty and mournfully defeated glare over his eyes. What were you going to say? I wanted him to trust us, but I didn't want to pressure him either, especially with something as sensitive as his relationship with his mom. "Uh... never mind. It's... nothing." I knew he was going to stop himself. There was a painful sadness he was fighting. I knew he wanted to talk about it, but I couldn't understand why he was holding back. My gaze wandered to his chest. He was breathing faster than usual. It was hard to tell under his sweater, but the cloth slightly rose and fell at an unstable rate. Even further down, I saw that he had his hands in tight fists and they had become clammy.

All of us noticed he had begun to dwindle away from reality to whatever he was thinking of. "What's wrong, Arven?" Nemona squeaked. He didn't answer, still staring down his hallucinations. I knew he couldn't hear anyone. Whatever was talking to him had full control of his mind. It was a battle between him and himself. I don't think anyone else understood that.

Penny seemed a bit panicked about it. As I knew, the only dissociation she had experienced was my own tiny freak-out, but it was generally silent and I snapped out of it instantly. Arven wasn't moving. In fact, he seemed to be getting... worse. "Y-You seem kinda..." Penny stammered, but she was quickly interrupted by a sharp choking noise before Arven fell to his knees in a nasty sob. "O-oh!" Both Penny and Nemona rushed over to hold him by the arms and help him up, but he wasn't responsive. He resisted and instead weeped into his palms, hair frayed about and messy. "Lugosi!" Penny called to me, her eyes wide and darting around in fear and confusion. "What do we...?" She trailed off. Nemona turned to me as well, and she was also immensely confounded. I didn't know what to do either. I never had any help when I had my episodes. I had always had to deal with them alone, fighting myself solo. The only time I had ever felt myself winning over the negativity was... when I thought about....

I walked towards him quietly, and the girls let go and moved away, observing me for future reference, although I didn't think it would end up working if they copied me. Arven was still shriveled into a pile, crying and hyperventilating a muddle. Beside him now, his hunched over body only reaching my upper thigh, I bent down, slowly, and rested on top of my legs in a polite kneel. He acted as though he had lost his spatial awareness because he didn't seem to notice me next to him. I held a hand out to touch him, but I hesitated. I didn't know if he wanted to be touched right now. Would he know it was me? Was he so lost in his delusions that he'd think I wasn't even another human being? I had no idea what he was experiencing. I let my fingers brush his shoulder, and he jolted out of his hands to look at me for a moment, face melted into deteriorated sorrow, before lurching out and hugging me tightly, continuing to cry into me. He was squeezing me so tightly, and it was hard to breathe correctly, but he had no idea how much strength he was exerting. I felt his tears staining my shirt around my neck and inconsistent hiccups in his throat. Although my rib cage was burning with my boyfriend's blind grip, I hugged him back, cradling him in my chest. I felt him soften and begin to regain control of himself.