#(all the pkmn are mentioned soz i know)

[minorisato]

bury me in your memory

pokemon / perfectworldshipping (past) / wc: 1115 / warnings: post-canon, Y version specifically. / notes: i wrote this at like 4am a week ago / consider commissioning me!

serena is making a face when they meet in couriway.

“your pokedex is coming along really nicely,” sycamore tells her, and he knows his smile is a little forced and it’s a little hard to laugh at a time like this. “200 entries is nothing to scoff at. it’ll be full in no time. i’m really impressed.”

he wants to sound reassuring. he wants to sound supportive and like everything is totally cool and he’s still super normal about the adventure he sent serena on, the one that he signed her up for, which led them both here. he’s trying. but she’s making a face at him, so.

he sighs. “serena, i know.”

“i’m kinda feeling really fucking betrayed right now,” she levels with him. “i saved your ass. i saved all of our asses. i have the god of death in my PC. my pokedex is not important right now, what is important is what the fuck happened back there.”

it’s the most bite he’s ever heard from her. serena was always quiet, always kept to herself. she’s a normal girl– a bit shy, a bit awkward, but she’s normal. and now the god of death is in her PC. he flinches at her words, because she’s right, and he doesn’t like that the sixteen year old is suddenly acting so much more mature than him. again, he can’t help but remember that he signed her up for this.

“you didn’t try to stop him?” she asks, and her voice is low, like she’s a little worried about who might hear such a thing, the wound is still fresh and who knows, maybe more people joined team flare than they thought, but the venom is still there. “you didn’t ever sit him down like hey, maybe murder is bad and wrong and trying to kill every living being is bad and wrong?”

“i didn’t know,” sycamore tells her, because what else is he gonna say? the least he can do is be honest. “serena, if i knew what he was planning, i would have stopped him. i would have tried to, at least, i would’ve– i would’ve gotten him help. but i didn’t know, serena, i found out at the same time you did.” he pauses, pained, because he’s really looking back and really beating himself up, there were definitely signs, sycamore should’ve known, but he didn’t. “i didn’t know.”

she shifts her weight from side to side, biting her lips, trying to really put her words together. “you were there. when we got there. when me and shauna and calem got there you were there.”

he tilts his head. “i was?”

“you were,” she swallows. and then, “calem thought you were in on it.”

sycamore takes an actual physical step back, shuddering, shaking, completely lost at the admission. “what? why– why? why would calem think that?”

“you were there, and you didn’t try to stop him,” she explains. “math.”

“no, serena, i wasn’t– i wasn’t in on it. i was there maybe a few seconds before you all. i came because that’s my job.” he pauses, and sort of gesticulates to himself. “because i had to be there, and then i saw–” him. he chokes up a little. “i saw lysandre, and it all devolved from there. you three really weren’t far behind me, i wasn’t in on it.” he grimaces. “why would i be begging for him to stop if i was in on it? why would i be trying to get you all out of there, why would–”

“okay.” serena says, fully cutting him off. “okay. okay, i get it. you weren’t. i’m just saying.” still, she shifts around, glances away. “did they dig him out yet?”

“serena, i really don’t want to talk about this.”

“i had a nightmare,” she tells him, completely ignoring his request, “i was in anistar’s hotel and i had a nightmare that it was the opposite. instead of yveltal, it was something else, and he was alive, forever. we were all alive forever. he was crushed under the rubble and he was still breathing, still alive.” sycamore’s eyes glance up to look at serena, to really look at her in the eye, and her eyes shine with tears threatening to spill forth. “that was a nightmare. being alive on the same earth as him forever was a nightmare. the idea that he might still be able to hurt people, forever, was a nightmare. i want that fucker to be dead and i want you to tell me they found the body and he’s dead forever.”

sycamore looks at her, and he feels like he might start crying too. all he can be is honest. “no,” he tells her. “no. they haven’t found the body.”

then, she actually does cry, her face contorting, and he wants to do something, to comfort her somehow. she’s still a child, she shouldn’t need to have gone through this, he shouldn’t have done this to her. he doesn’t know what he can say, though, to alleviate it. she looks to the ground, inhaling sharply, wiping her face, and then she looks back up at him. “alright,” she says, voice hoarse, even quieter than normal. “alright. just, y’know. keep me updated. somehow. i dunno, i made chesnaught break my holocaster.”

he can’t even blame her for that. he nods, and she moves on, past him, to snowbelle. she has a gym challenge to complete, after all.

as she gets smaller in the distance, sycamore watches, before she disappears completely. he exhales, a heavy, shuddering breath, running a hand through his hair, curls falling in front of his face. what now? what does he even do now? call diantha? see if he can meet with his other students? what is he supposed to do?

couriway is so small, smaller than he remembers. he wants to go back to lumiose. he wants to go back to his dusty and dirty apartment and he wants to stay there. he doesn’t really want to do anything he should do, doesn’t want to go to work, doesn’t want to meet with diantha. he wants to lay and rot, to waste away. he wants to stay as far away from the news as he can. he never wants to be able to tell serena that they found him– he never wants to know if they do.

for a moment, he wants to die, and for a moment, he wants to take all of kalos with him. he breathes.

call diantha. get coffee. go back to work. that’s his schedule for now. charizard flies him back to lumiose, and very bravely, he doesn’t go back to his apartment.