“That would be quite interesting. A psychic/dark type who’s reasonable to try to train, and whose evolution condition isn’t impossible to figure out would probably change up a lot of our understanding of things. It would certainly be a great species.”
And now I have a hunch I understand another facet of someone who doesn’t know what a Rockruff is became one. “I take it you’re a fan of the two?”
Wes chuckled, unable to hide his grin. “You could say that. I’ve got a pair of them back…” he trailed off, trying to find a suitable word because “home” was
definitely not the right one, “back where I’m from. Brothers, raised em from Eevee since they were babies. And gods, do they keep my hands full, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
His chest aches a little, almost strongly enough to rival the pain in his leg that he’d been more or less successfully ignoring. It had only been a few hours, and yet he felt so…
incomplete without them beside him.
“So. Some things are off limits there... A lot of things actually. But I’m willing to say that this is the species of my partner back home. She was engineered deliberately as a means of protection against… some form of beast things we don’t know much about, meant to be flexible enough to adapt to the kind of unpredictable situations in facing an unknown enemy. But then m— the project lead died unexpectedly while it was nearing completion, and the transition to a new lead went horribly. The whole project had to be written off. Life support technology had to be fixed to their heads to keep them going, and the helmet was welded on to keep it secure. They were going to get rid of all three of them, but... I guess I projected something of my own problems onto them. I stole the last one and ran from home. Named Hazel. Obviously not the most normal partner, but she’s also the best one I could’ve asked for. I don't know what I'd have done without her. She's just endlessly sweet, tenacious, pretty snuggly which is a bit unsafe but very cute, and she just has this love of simply being alive in spite of everything. Keeps me going sometimes, if she can be happy with her lot, I kinda can't complain. Plus she kinda literally needs me, of course, someone's gotta take care of her given she's not suitable for release into the wild, nor would a shelter or anything take her. We're inseparable"
…Well. That
was a touchy subject. At first, all Wes was able to manage was a quiet, “Oh, shit.”
Something tightened in his gut as he listened to Gladion speak. It was an odd mixture of emotion; sympathy, horror, sadness, fury, and above all…a sickening familiarity to the whole thing.
“So she was an experiment,” he said, careful to keep his voice low. “And you took her…and ran.”
Gods, did that strike way too close to home for Wes’s comfort.
“I…think I understand at least a little bit how you feel. Neo and Novo weren’t experiments, but…they…were about to become one.” He felt sick just speaking about it, as if the words were bile in his mouth. “I…cut ties and ran, too. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say I
burned a few bridges.” He almost smirked at that, then realized it was probably best to
not look like some kind of homicidal maniac. He coughed lightly. “Anyway, I uh…can relate a little, I guess.”
"...And then, unless I am cosmically lucky about what one of the 'small differences' between the 'near-copies' of worlds that Cloud mentioned is... Well, when it comes to the worlds the parallel-Gladion who Odette knows come from and the one I come from, something happens between my world's date and hers where she's met parallel-Gladion where people who are ostensibly 'close friends' of said Gladion are totally unaware— in spite of how central she is to the trajectory of our lives— that she ever even existed and thinks the suggestion that the species would be better off scrapped to be fitted into hip replacements is a non-thermonuclear insult..."
Ah. That explained his intense reaction earlier. Wes listened thoughtfully for a moment.
“You know…I don’t mean to discount what you’re feeling, but have you thought that maybe the Gladion she knows is from a different point in time? Maybe one that hasn’t met Hazel yet? Or maybe he does have a version of Hazel with him, but he’s found a safe place for her, or he’s still keeping her a sec—ah,
dammit—” he cursed as he stumbled over a stray rock in the sand and hissed as his leg flared up in pain. He straightened and pushed forward, determined to ignore the increasing ache. “S-sorry. Anyway, what I mean to say is, there’s a million different reasons for why she might not know about her world’s version of Hazel, y’know? And they might not be the worst case scenario you’re thinking of.” He sure hoped so, anyway. For both Gladion and Hazel’s sakes.
(Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice was asking him why he was so calmly having a discussion about
multiverses and
alternate dimensions as if they could actually be real, but he dismissed it. It was far from the weirdest thing about today, anyhow.)
So. I guess that happened or whatever, and now I've had enough of that 'emotional honesty' thing I've heard about for this lifetime. That was too much, I didn't think I was going to say all that. Sorry. Let's just go play fucking dressup or whatever."
Wes had to bark out a laugh at that. “You know, normally this kind of thing isn’t my speed, either. But for once, I didn’t mind it.” He shot Gladion a slightly abashed look. “And I guess I should, uh…apologize for earlier. It’s not like it was your fault for our cushy landing back there.” He then smirked a little at the dress-up comment. “Right, dress-up. Because that’s my
favorite thing and
definitely preferable to friendly conversation. Can’t wait.”