Into The Unown

The News

When Gary got the news, something in him snapped.

"I'll come," he answered. The words had come out reflexively. The tiny neurons which enabled him to voice his thoughts hadn't bothered to communicate to the brain, they'd just spoken out of turn. To him, the action was the same as when he jumped in the middle of the gunfire for Ash, or when he shielded Serena from the aura blast with his body. "Tell me how I get there, I will come."

Delia didn't look surprise. "Picking you up will prove to be a difficult task, we will—"

"I don't care if I have to fucking swim all the way from Kalos, I am coming."

"No one said you aren't," this time, it was Charlus who spoke, "but we have to have a plan Gary. You're not a one man army and whatever caused Dawn and Gary to lose their signal looks ominous. We need to be careful, we cannot afford to lose any more people."

Gary frowned, "We have plenty of people,"

Delia came back up, "Not anymore. It's just us."

"What—what do you—" Gary exasperated. When he closed his eyes, the earth seemed to shift beneath his feet. "I don't care. I... tell me what I need to do."

When the conversation ended, it was Charlus who answered first.

"When we were younger, I hated you."

She looked up, her mind in scrambles. "I kinda knew that. Grace... she told me not to get into a relationship with James because she thought you posed a threat."

"Really?" Charlus mused. Even though she was no more, the thought of getting a validation from Grace fuelled his soul in a way no drug ever could. "Grace thought I posed a threat to you, considering that you were under her protection?"

"Not to me, she thought you posed a threat to yourself. Grace thought that if James didn't water you with attention, you'd kill your self."

Charlus looked down. He didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. "I miss them."

"Me too," she reached for his hand, nuzzling it softly.

"It's just us now." He looked up, his vision blurry and voice shaky. "How... how are we—"

"Shh," she gently pressed her finger against his lip, "you're right, it is us, but remember, it's just them. This is not an unfair fight, Charlus, it is a battle between equals—in numbers and powers. Us against them, remember."

Charlus squeezed her hand. "You made the right choice by dismissing our forces. After our assault, whatever was left behind, cannot be defeated by guns and bombs. They would have died for nothing."

"Thank you,"

For the longest time, no words were spoken. The two of the sat beside each other—breathing and existing. Occasionally one of the other would squeeze a hand, a faint reminder of their existence. A reminder that they weren't alone. That they would be in this together. Until they weren't.

"I'm going," Charlus said, his footsteps quietly traced the exit. "I can't let him go into the danger alone."

It wasn't until he'd reached the door when Delia spoke again, "There were the four of us, Charlus, don't let it just be me."