Pokemon FireRed: Despairlocke | By : Atxdepboy Category: +M through R > Pokemon Views: 4976 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction. I own no rights to Pokemon or any of its associated offshoots, nor do I make a dime for any work. Or a nickle. Or a penny. Or any unit of currency. |
Summary: Reed and Haden confront the first of eight Testing Centers, and Brax proves himself.
Author's Note:
Thank you for reading! I'm really enjoying writing this, and I hope you guys are having fun too. It should be obvious at this point that I don't do much editing for this one - it's usually something that I cram into my day, then get eager to share. If there is anything particularly egregious, please let me know - either on here, or through my tumblr (despairlocke dot tumblr) - and I'll try to get it fixed.
As always, if you wanna read more, let me know. Reviews, favorites, it's all appreciated.
CHAPTER 4: BROKE DOWN
Six Days, Four Hours Since Pallet Town
The air in Pewter City tasted foul. Reed had never known how much he took the fresh, salty air of Pallet Town for granted until he came here, tasted the dust in the air - the byproduct of the Elite’s extensive mining operations. The city never went dark, never went quiet. The lights from the operations in the nearby mountains blared into the night sky in the distances, and trucks moved back and forth from sites to distribution centers within the city limits at all hours. In the few moments of quiet that he’d encountered since arriving, he could still hear the hum of mining equipment in the distance.
The place gave him a mild headache at all times, but that was far enough down on his list of concerns that it barely seemed worth mentioning. He and Haden had set up camp on the edge of the city, having scouted around as best they could before descending briefly within the city limits for food and information. Pewter City had their first stop in the Grand Tour - the Pewter City Testing Center. They’d managed to glean that the leader there was named Brock, that he was actually a local to the city before becoming an Elite. Meaning he must have been a prior victor in one of the earlier Grand Tours. Someone who made it all the way to the Elite.
Reed’s stomach hurt. He’d never felt this nervous. Haden was in a nearby clearing, training with his Charmander. The lizard had learned how to accurately spit its fire, though it couldn’t maintain a steady stream yet. It’s claws had been sharpened enough to carve large chunks from the trees, even leaving deep grooves on a few rocks. It was ready.
He palmed Brax’s pokeball, staring at it. He wondered if his own ally was ready. He’d had a hard time looking at the creature after having his ‘needs’ explained. The grey-skinned pokemon would likely become like Bruce’s mankey, soon. Aggressive, hard to control, needy. But what could he do? He wasn’t going to subject Okie to something like that.
“I think we should be the ones to challenge the testing center first,” Haden said, moping some sweat from his brow, as his charmander slumped over a nearby rock, laying on its belly and relaxing.
Reed wanted to argue, but couldn’t find the words. He nodded.
“You’re scared. I get that.”
“Fuck you.”
“No, I mean . . .” Haden growled, reaching up to scratch the back of his head, pulling out a cigarette. He’d avoided smoking them as much as he could in the past few days, but it was obvious that his nerves were acting up as well. “It’s fine. I am too. We both should be. You know, there’s no shame if you want to give up. You need to know that.”
“I’m not-”
“I mean it, kid. If you feel like you need to, if you have even the slightest inkling - do it. Do it before you no longer have the opportunity. Okay?”
Reed didn’t answer. Haden sighed, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Rest up. We’ll go in when the sun starts to set.”
Reed clutched the pokeball holding Brax a little closer to his chest.
- - - -
Six Days, 11 Hours Since Pallet Town
The testing center was an enormous building made of steel and glass - far more opulent than anything else in the dingy mining town. Even still, it was stained with the same dust as the rest of the town - a thick layer of dirt caking over the massive windows. The entrance was up a large flight of stone stairs, opening up into a courtyard with benches and a few dead plants that had likely originally been planted for scenery, but had been allowed to fall into disrepair. It was late in the afternoon when Reed and Haden arrived, and the place had already been cleared out. Reed felt a familiar nervous fluttering in his stomach, staring at the sliding doors flanked on either side by Elite enforcers.
“One challenger at a time,” one of them growled, holding up an arm to block their passage. Reed muttered under his breath, but Haden shushed him.
“Fine. I’ll be going in first, then.” He turned, giving a small grin to Reed.
“Wish me luck, kid?”
The surprise on his face was obvious, as his nephew closed the distance between them and hugged him tightly. “You got this,” he whispered. Haden nodded, patting him on his head.
“Yeah. I got this.”
- - - -
Six Days, 11.5 Hours Since Pallet Town
Reed was surprised at how insulated the testing center was. The battle had to have started by now, but he couldn’t hear a thing from within the courtyard. He’d read in his guidebook that Testing Centers were encouraged to focus on one or two types of Pokeon, to build a specialization. He wondered what kind this one had chosen. Wondered what it was that Haden was facing.
- - - -
Six Days, 13 Hours Since Pallet Town
The sun was starting to set in over the hills, bathing the entire city in orange and reds, a rich pallet that set the hills ablaze. Reed barely noticed them. His heart was stuck in his throat. Breathing was becoming harder and harder.
- - - -
Six Days, 15 Hours Since Pallet Town
The trainers that worked within the Pewter City Testing Center were, by a large, Elites - usually of low rank who’d been born into the position by way of family, or drafted in after family member of spouse won their way in during the tour. Once inducted, a Grand Tour winner was given the option of elevating ten people within their family or friend group along with them. Many forgot immediately the struggles that they’d endured prior to their elevation, if they were even old enough to remember the time before. They came from the Testing Center as a group of three, dressed to look like stageplay versions of the miners that populated the town proper. The same wife-beaters, towels around their shoulders, head-lamps - all new and untouched, rather than torn and stained by earth and sweat. The tallest among them, a brunette with closely-cropped hair, was teasing a shorter comrade, shoving him slightly with a hand on his shoulder. They barely saw the slight, disheveled young man who stepped out to block their path.
“Move aside, kid. Gym’s closed.” It was the tallest one, the obvious leader.
Reed tried not to let his voice shake. Tried to make his tone as low and threatening as possible.
“What about the challengers still inside?”
“Challengers? Ain’t nobody left inside. Everyone who entered today lost. Move aside,” said a muscular man, slightly older and shorter than the tall trainer.
“Last one in was some old guy, but Brock thrashed him. If you want the same treatment, you’ll have to wait until tom-”
Reed pushed the ice in his stomach down, buried it in rage.
“Where is he? The man who lost. Is he in there?”
“Look, kid,” the tall trainer stepped forward again, glowering, “if you don’t want to get hurt, I’d suggest-”
All three stopped in their tracks immediately, as Reed let both of his pokeballs roll down his forearm and into his palm. The shortest gave a nervous chuckle.
“You serious, kid? You know who you’re dealing with? You fuck with us, we’ll take your pokemon, we’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life-”
Again, Reed interrupted. “You can either step aside, or call your Pokemon, because I’m done talking.”
A twitch ran across the tall trainer’s face. He stepped ahead of the other two. “So you got two, right? Fine.” He pressed a button on his watch. One of the enforcers that had stood guard earlier stepped out from within the center, moving towards them.
“There was a match declared?”
“Yeah. Someone needs to teach this mouthy trash to respect his betters.” The tall trainer moved his gaze to Reed, sizing him up appreciatively. “Bet the miners will love having you around, eh?”
Reed didn’t hear him. Didn’t hear the enforcer reading off his usual pre-match speech. All he heard was the blood pounding in his veins, a shattering roar that was building in the deepest part of himself and threatening to burst forth at any moment. Haden was still inside. If he could get in, he could stop this. He could save him. He had to save him.
The tall trainer sent out his pokemon, a small mouse-looking creature, brown and covered in what appeared to be plating running down its back. Reed sent out Okie. He didn’t hear what he shouted when he did, but the mouse moved quickly - using its speed to dart under a claw and headbutt the creature in the stomach, biting at its exposed neck. The pokemon pushed it away,but not before a good bit landed - the trainer had to recall it, he had no choice. He returned Okie as well. This was never supposed to be his fight. Brax emerged, meeting a familiar, spherical stone. Reed had looked this one up. A geodude. A powerful defensive pokemon, with a significant flaw.
“Brax. Karate chop.” Brax had immense strength, and an innate talent at locating structrual weakpoints in hard surfaces. He landed a single blow, dead center on the geodude. The creature shattered before him.
“What the hell!? How dare you, you stupid little-”
Another trainer was already stepping up to take the tall one’s place, intending to avenge his comrade. It didn’t matter to Reed. He’d beat them all. Brax could tear them apart, he was certain of it. All they would accomplish was wasting his time, time he didn’t have.
A voice, low and rough, called out across the courtyard.
“Enough!”
Reed hadn’t seen him leave the Testing Center, had no idea what he was supposed to look like. But somehow, he knew instantly who the trainer approaching them was. He walked with purpose, carried himself with utmost confidence. The trainers who had challenged him stepped out of the way immediately, clearing a path for him to walk. Even the enforcer, in the middle of his post-battle pronouncements, went silent. Brock. Leader of the Pewter City Testing Center. A true, earned member of the elite. When he looked at Reed, there was none of the disgust that he’d come to expect. Just stoic and severe.
He was dark-skinned, and athletic. His clothes, in contrast to those worn by those under his command, were stained and worn. There was a tiredness in his eyes, betraying the practiced confidence that he carried himself with.
“What’s going on here?” The question was addressed to Reed. One of his underlings attempted to cut in - though he went silent, with a single raised finger from his leader.
“The older man, the one who challenged you last? Where is he?”
A slight roll of Brock’s shoulders. When he spoke, his voice lacked even the slightest hint of mirth. “He was defeated. All of his pokemon. As the Grand Tour stipulates, his pokemon and his freedom were confiscated thereafter. If you were close - a relative, a friend - then I apologize. It would be in your best interest to forget about him.”
Reed squared his shoulders. “I’m only going to ask one more time. No platitudes, no taunts, just tell me where the hell he is.”
Brock was quiet for a moment, before shaking his head. “Just so we’re clear - it’s inadvisable to threaten a Testing Center Overseer. It could misfire spectacularly for you.”
He reached down, unhooking two pokeballs from his belt. “Two on two. It was always going to come to this, anyway. You win, I tell you where he is.”
Reed’s palms sweat. He felt like he might vomit at any moment. He didn’t hesitate. As Brock signaled the start of the battle with his watch, he threw out his hand. Brax had never been returned to his ball, and needed no further encouragement. Brock’s barely bothered to throw his pokeball, letting it roll down his palm and slide onto the ground, another geodude appearing. The laconic gesture belied just how fast the creature moved, immediately sinking its hands into the stone floor of the courtyard - digging up two chunks of rock as if they were sank - throwing one sharp stone and then the other in the direction of the machop.
Brax didn’t bother dodging, swatting each rock aside as it charged, leaping into the air then falling forward, driving a knee directly into the geodude’s center. This geodude was stronger. It didn’t shatter at the impact. All the same, it was knocked out cold, unable to move after the severe blow. Brax hopped backwards from it, dropping into a fighting stance, bouncing on his heels.
If Brock was surprised, he didn’t show it. “A machop is a pretty rare pokemon. I’m going to assume its your starter. I can’t say I’m surprised that you made it this far. I’m sorry for what comes next.” He held his second pokeball up, dropping it without ceremony.
If Reed had been in his own right mind, he might have noticed the other trainers fleeing backwards, might have noticed that even the enforcer had backed away. From the ball, a blinding flash of light. Then, coiling in the center of the courtyard, a giant stone serpent - its body a series of stones held together through some unknowable magic or science. Lacking in uniformity, the stones looked rough and worn, like the creature was ancient. When it roared, Reed could feel his chest vibrate.
Brax glanced over its shoulder only once. Reed locked eyes with it, then turned to Brock. In the clearest voice he could manage, he called out, “Tear it apart!”
Brax moved without hesitation, leaping over the snake’s whipping tail, vaulting over the center of its body, and turning to punch into its back. The creature roared, striking out, throwing its head down at the machop and barely missing it as it dodged of the way. The creature dug into the stone then, its head jerking and dislodging chunks of it - kicking it up and out into a barrage of pointed rocks. Brax didn’t try to knock them from the air a second time. He rolled to the side, picking himself up just in time to see the creature charging him - knocking aside and crumbling benches in its wake.
“Onix, use Stone Edge!’ The first words that Brock had said the whole fight.
“Focus, Brax!” The machop dropped into a fighting stance against. Its muscles tensed visibly, a faint glow building at its hands and feet. It waited, letting the Onix come to it. At the last moment, as the pokemon barreled towards it, it pivoted, turning with its hips, extending its leg into a kick directly into the center of the Onix’s charging forehead. A spark. The energy around the machop’s arms and legs glowing blinding in an instant, before the Onix was lifted from the ground, its momentum redirected. It spiraled upwards before crashing down - an impact that the whole city would likely hear. It twitched for a moment and then, finally, went still.
Reed’s whole body was shaking. His heart felt like it might burst. He was blank. Didn’t know what to say, or to do. Brax came to his side, limping slightly - putting no weight on the foot it had used to kick into the Onix. It gripped him by the forearm, gently.
“Loading Dock G49. They’ll likely have him on a transport by now, but if you hurry you might make it. Their will be enforcers nearby, with many strong pokemon. But if anyone was going to imagine it, I’d imagine it was you.”
Brock was staring at him, looking at him in a way that Reed couldn’t remember anyone ever looking at him. Respect. Perhaps even a touch of awe.
He gave a slowly, shaky nod, before barreling down the stairs and out of the courtyard, ignoring the trilling of his watch letting him know that he’d just earned his first mark of recognition, of the eight he’d need to enter Victory Road. He ran with every last ounce of effort he had - Brax following him, ignoring the pain in its leg. He ran until his lungs burned, ran until his feet bloodied. He knew where the loading docks were, had seen them when he’d scouted with Haden. Haden. His uncle. The only one who understood him, the one who’d tried to talk him out of this whole mess. He’d save him, he’d have to save him.
He reached the fenceline for the long line of loading docks. The sun was gone, the night still fresh and hot from the day before. An engine roared nearby. He could see it. 49. The transport lifted into the air slowly, lumbering under the weight of its harvest. Reed shouted, tears forming at his eyes. Sobbed, clawed at the fenceline. The transport lifted up higher, rotated slowly in air. Then, a deep ‘chuff’ noise. And it shot out, blurred light against the night sky. A streak of red and gold against black. Reed fell to his knees. In the deepest part of his mind, so far back that he’d never known, never comprehend that it was that - a thought occured. The sight, in that moment, was beautiful.
- - - -
10 Days, 14 Hour Since Pallet Town
Reed didn’t know how long he’d been lying there. How long it had been since he’d stumbled back to the camp that he and Haden had set up, since he’d fallen onto his sleeping back. Time didn’t seem to matter here. It was all a dull routine. He’d stumble from the tent to relieve himself, then stumble back. Brax, who had never returned to his pokeball, would bring him some kind of food that his simple mind had been able to forage - usually berries and nuts. He’d wash himself in a nearby stream in the early morning, then return to the tent. He’d sleep. He’d dream. He’d wake, and Brax would rub his back until he returned to sleep.
He’d underestimated the pokemon. Thought it a very smart animal, when perhaps the truth was that it was closer to a somewhat dim, well-meaning person. Once, he’d heard it fight off what sounded like a beedrill from the campsite. No one bothered them up here, otherwise. His eyes hurt. He didn’t know how much longer he could live like this. But the thought of forward motion was overbearing.
He could hear a sound outside the tent. A wet sound, slapping. He rose from the sleeping bag, sliding clumsily across it and sticking his torso out of the tent. Brax sat at the edge of the long-dead campfire, hand around his grey member, pumping it. His eyes were closed, expression thoughtful. Reed wondered what pokemon thought about, when they did this. If anything at all. A slight rustle of the tent flap, and Brax noticed him - immediately looking sheepish, tucking its muscular leg up and using it to cover itself, moving its hands away. It stared down at the ground, grunting what sounded like an apology.
He realized that it must think he disapproved of the behavior - after how he’d interacted last time. Brax has saved his life. Had been the whole reason he was even able to start on this path. He stared at the machop, for only a moment. He needed one decent thing. One thing to make everything - his body, his mind, his heart - stop hurting. He swallowed. He’d never force Okie to do this. He’d never abide that kind of cruelty.
“N-no. It’s . . . it’s okay. Come here.”
Brax looked hesitant for a moment, before pushing itself up and approaching him, staring down at him where he sat. Its manhood was still hard, about five inches of erect grey prick. Somewhat fat, but not especially so. Foreskin wrapped around it, pulled back slightly to expose the pink head. The scent was primal and unwashed.
Reed looked up at him. His eyes were red, tired. Still, he hoped the expression was clear. The question. Was this okay?” He reached out slowly, carefully wrapping his fingers around the machop’s cock. Brax’s whole body tensed, and his cock twitched, but he made no expressions of discomfort. It felt warm within his hand. He leaned forward, inhaling the scent again, before carefully guiding the thing into his mouth.
The taste was salty, somewhat unpleasant. He didn’t care. He flicked his tongue over the head, wrapped his lips tightly around the shaft, and bobbed slowly - carefully. He’d never done this before, and wanted to avoid getting his teeth anywhere they shouldn’t be. The machop reached out, hands gently brushing through his trainer’s hair. His breathing grew a little heavier, small grunts and sharp intakes of breath coming from him as Reed sucked at him, wetting his prick.
Even not knowing what he was doing, Reed knew that the machop wouldn’t last long from this. He pulled away, letting the now-dripping cock slip from his lips with a pop. He stared up at Brax again, face flushed, cheeks red with embarrassment. He wanted one more thing. He didn’t know why. Was disgusted with himself, hated the part of himself that wanted it. And even still, he reached behind himself with trembling hands, turning his hips so that the machop could see him pulled the back of his pants down - pulling them over his rump to expose his firm cheeks, before crawling into the tent and laying on his side.
Brax was smart enough, indeed. He crawled slowly in after him, rubbing gently with his hands, positioning himself behind his trainer. He was as gentle as he could be - guiding the plump head of his cock to Reed’s virgin entrance. He pressed once, eliciting a gasp and whine of pain from his partner. The machop stopped. Let it rest there, let it warm him. He pushed again, another gasp, no whine. A little further in. Let it sit. Let it wait. A hand came around, hugging Reed, holding him close. Another press. Reed cried out. The head popped inside, and the machop sank forward, sank in.
Reed wanted to tell him to stop, wanted to take this all back, wanted to be back in home in his town before any of this. But he bit into the sleeping bag, instead. Brax held him, held still, stroked his chest softly, before beginning to move into his rut. Long, gentle thrusts - moving his cock within something for the first time. He didn’t last long. His breathing got heavier, grunts more urgent. Reed sank a hand into the front of his trousers, still clinging there, and began to stroke. The machop sank deeper. Warmth began to spread inside of him, as he filled the front of his underwear with his own spunk. He gave a quiet sigh, closing his eyes, feeling the machop occasionally twitch within him, giving him another burst of seed to push the rest a little deeper inside.
They’d leave the next day. Right now, he just wanted to stay here. To stay in this moment, and commit it to memory. Something told him that he wouldn’t have many good memories to come.
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