#I miss writing some good old h/c stuff featuring my fav guy

[rising-volteccers]

I've been working on this piece slowly over a few months and finally had the motivation to complete it. This is just a self indulgent piece on the aftermath of HZ044-HZ045. Obvious spoilers for those episodes of course. I'm a bit rusty but hopefully it's still an enjoyable read!

Series: Pokemon Horizons

Characters: Friede, Orla (Major) | Mollie, Murdock, Cap (Minor)

Warnings: Description of a character experiencing a panic attack

---

It's only after the kids have retired for the night that Friede calls for a private meeting. He doesn't have to elaborate on its reason, a quiet sort of understanding prevalent as they all made their way to the meeting room. 

Friede doesn't immediately enter once everyone else does. He stands outside, forehead pressed against the cool wall as he breathes deeply. Once, twice, three times. When he feels a little more centered, that's when Friede slips into the room.

Four sets of eyes turn to him. Graciously, no one comments on the tightness around his own eyes, the way his assuring smile is simply a knee jerk reaction in the face of trouble. It takes a moment for Friede to remember that he doesn't have to, and the smile drops.

Friede gracelessly drops onto his chair. Cap joins him moments later. Usually he perches on Friede's shoulder but his partner, likely sensing the heavy atmosphere, opts to stand on the table instead so he can get a proper view of everyone.

Heavy frowns marred all of their features. No one speaks for a good while, as if fearful of what'll spill out the moment this tentative silence is shattered. The Copperajah in the room is something that needed to be discussed but…

“... I'm glad that you're all alright,” Friede finally whispers. He can't easily shake off the pure dread upon seeing Rayquaza crash into the ship, to see the Brave Olivine fall out of the sky and towards the ocean. If not for Murdock's skill in making an emergency landing and his assuring call afterwards, he wouldn't have been able to focus on the immediate danger in front of him.

“Yeah, us too,” Orla responds steadily. Friede doesn't realize that his fists are clenched until Murdock's warm hand settles atop of them. Friede breathes out, recalls the exercise Mollie taught him. 

In for four, hold for seven, release for eight. Repeat until his head clears up.

Friede is grateful that they give him the time to ease himself back into someone that's not crumbling around the edges. That's better left in private, after he can have a moment to really let the severity of what happened sink in. 

Right now, Friede has to pull himself into the leader of the Rising Volt Tacklers. They're turning to him for support and he'll do his best to become their pillar.

“Okay, so. How badly damaged is the ship?” Friede asks, turning his attention to Orla.

“I'll need time to properly assess it but it's bad enough that we won't be able to fly any time soon,” she replies, lips set into a thin frown. “This isn't like patching up holes. We just about fixed the damage done by that Orthworm last time but the damage here is to the balloon itself, not the ship.”

“Alright, so we're grounded until the balloon can be fixed. At least the ship can sail, so I'll see about getting permission to dock the ship at one of Levincia’s ports.” Friede supposed if there's one thing to be grateful for, is that they’re already close to a major city so that repairs can go underway as soon as Orla gets a full assessment. 

“How are the Pokemon? No one sustained any injuries?” Friede turns his attention to Mollie next. 

“All of them are understandably shaken. It's different from turbulence,” Mollie responds, leaning back against her chair. “Some stuff fell off the shelves but none of it hit the Pokemon. Chansey made sure to keep everyone calm while we made multiple trips towards land.”

“Good, good,” he mutters. It guts him inside to put the Pokemon through such a harrowing experience but at the very least, they’re in good hands with Mollie. Friede will bring Charizard to her later for a check-up.

Friede asks a few more questions about affected areas within the Brave Olivine before they tackle the next course of action: the repairs needed to be done.

“Orla, is the damage something you’re able to fix by yourself?” Friede questions.

She hums, arms crossed as her brows furrow in deep thought. “It’s definitely the most damage the ship’s experienced so far, and while I’ll need to get a good, proper look, I think I can fix it.”

That is gladdening news, even if it’s hard for Friede to feel properly happy about it. “Right. You’ll be having your hands full with it. As for the rest of us, we’re going to have to find ways in drumming up funds for the repair.” It’s not going to be cheap, that’s for certain.

“I know I saw an ad before in the city,” Murdock pipes up, having stayed silent for most of the conversation earlier. “About part-time work at Patisserie Soapberry in Cortondo. The bakery owned by Katy, the Gym Leader there.”

“I can do private consultations,” Mollie adds. “If we’re going to be grounded for a while, I can set something up on the ship. That, or I’ll do online consultations if safety’s a concern.”

“And I can offer online classes or take up researching gigs,” Friede says. “Or take on whatever jobs we get.” 

“That sounds good. Though, now the question is what are the kids going to do?” Murdock’s sporting a deep frown now. “I don’t want them to get bored staying here when we’re doing work.”

“Don’t worry about that.” For the first time since this meeting started, Friede’s lips from a small smile. “They’ve expressed interest in learning about Terastallization. I know someone that I can contact with so they can learn just that.”

He’s going to be pretty busy in the coming days. People to contact, plans to hash out, things to do. Nothing left to do but go at it full steam ahead if he wants the Brave Olivine to be airborne again. 

Seeing that it’s been a long, stressful day for everyone, Friede won’t hold them up any longer. He hangs back long enough to pass Charizard’s Pokeball to Mollie before returning back to his room with Cap trailing behind him. 

Inside, he finds the aftermath of such a violent collision. Anything that’s not taped down is strewn all over the floor. Fallen over books and research papers that are going to be a pain to rearrange greets him. 

Friede sighs deeply. He wants nothing more than to fall onto his bed and sleep but his head is still buzzing with all sorts of thoughts, wanting nothing more than to scratch the itch to be productive. He knows that he’ll feel much better later if he begins the task of cleaning his room up now.

After he hangs up his jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, Friede gets to work. 

------

It hits Friede thirty minutes later.

The mildly buzzing thoughts rush to the front of his mind all at once. A heavy weight drops in his stomach like an anvil. While he knows what’s happening logically, he's still powerless to stop his own spiraling. 

“Pika?”

Friede has experienced freefall before. Reckless flights on Charizard in his younger years meant instances where he flew too close to the sun. His body is like that right now, floaty in a way that gives him little control. Tremors ripple down his arms, causing his hands to start shaking. 

“Pikapi? Pika!”

Things could have gone terribly wrong. Every time he blinks, the scene plays out behind closed eyelids. The Brave Olivine with a gaping wound to its side falling into the ocean, most of the occupants inside powerless to do anything. 

He was powerless to do anything. 

Friede thinks Cap's trying to catch his attention. It's hard to tell over his increasingly labored breaths. He wants to carefully place the book down in a last ditch effort to exert control but he knows it's not working. 

Sadly, this isn't an unfamiliar sensation. Friede remembers the long and terrible nights where he questions his purpose in life, his brilliant mind viciously turning in on itself. All the times where he shook beneath the covers, grounded only by Charizard's head resting atop his legs. His partner is being checked up at the moment by Mollie after–everything.

Friede hates the cold but the trembles wracking his frame isn't caused by it. Muscle spasms perhaps from the sheer effort, futile as it is, to fight off his own thoughts and feelings. He sucks in air through the tiniest straw in the world and wheezes out a pathetic breath.

I should probably sit down, Friede thinks distantly, eyes flickering down towards his trembling hands. He quietly pleads for his emotions to give him more time to–not think about the memories that are coming out of their hiding place. Shoved to the darkest corners in the heat of the moment, prioritizing what’s in front of him (of Roy and Liko and Dot’s safety) instead of–

The Brave Olivine is fallingfallingfalling he’s not able to do ANYTHING but watch as his friendsfamilyhome falls out of the sky and they’re going to sink in the ocean they’re going to die–

Friede bites his lips, nails biting into the palm of his hands as he hunches over. His vision darkens, white sparks flashing behind closed eyelids from how tightly he squeezes them shut. His shaky legs stumble back, and he trips over nothing before he falls heavily onto his bed. A soft cry slips out when pain erupts from the back of his head as it smacks against the wall but he barely registers it. He’s too busy fighting back the stupid panic clawing at his chest, knowing that he’s being an idiot cause he’s fine, they’re all fine and well and present and they discussed on what to do so there’s no reason to dwell on it anymore.

Yet his ever traitorous mind keeps spinning what-ifs, of scenarios gone horribly, tragically wrong. People he’d have to contact, to comfort, to accept all the vitriol and hate from because he’s the leader so all of their safety should have been his top priority. Friede trusts his friends explicitly but he imagines they’d have regretted placing their trust on him. Can visually see their fear and terror and despair over having followed him in the first place cause now it’ll result in their untimely end.

Friede’s eyes burn. Amidst the sharp panic, he distantly feels a bitter anger growing in himself, at himself, and it’s not helping any. His chest hurt, his head ached, his everything is one giant mass of agony. He hates it. Hates it so so much cause now he’s being reminded just how much it hurts to be afraid.

Above all else, Friede is afraid. Terrified. He’s faced the world with reckless abandon that seeing how his world can easily crumble is a harsh smack to the face. 

He whines softly. Unsure whether the chill he feels now is real, Friede still tries to pull his blanket up to cover himself, hoping that the soft fabric is able to secure him in a way that he’s incapable of. His shaky hands struggle to get a solid grip, and for some reason, this small inconvenience is what finally made the tears bubble over. 

Arceus, this is such a stupid thing to cry over. (In between choked sobs, he fights for air). Friede’s just making a mountain out of an Excadrill hill. (He’s convinced he’s drowning). Everyone’s fine. (He feels lightheaded). The ship is grounded and in need of repairs but with Orla’s handiwork, it’ll be fit to sail in no time. (Black spots dances around his vision). He’s fine so why is he–?

“Friede!”

Warm hands gently enveloped his tight fists. A soft voice gently shushes into his ears.

“It’s going to be alright.” One of his hands is maneuvered into pressing against a soft surface. Vaguely, he feels the gentle rise and fall beneath his palm.

“Try and follow my breathing, okay?”

As he blinks waterlogged eyes, the orange blob slowly sharpens into a familiar face. It’s Orla, sweet, kind Orla who’s looking at him with such soft concern in her eyes. 

Friede doesn’t deserve it. She would have been in the engine room, the first place that would’ve exploded had the ship crashed. The thought causes his breath to hitch, triggering a fit of watery coughs that renewed his tears.

“O-Orla,” he gasps. “I’m–I’m so s-sorry–”

“Shh, none of that now,” Orla gently shushes him. “Just focus on my breathing, okay? I know you can do it. In… Out… In… Out…”

He still desperately wants to apologize but the want to appease her is stronger. So Friede tries his best to follow along. He feels her drawing in a long, deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before slowly exhaling. Orla repeats this for the next couple of minutes, purposefully exaggerating the sound of each inhale and exhale so Friede can more easily follow along.

Friede focuses everything into following along, and soon enough he’s doing it more of his own volition than simply copying Orla’s motions. Slowly but surely, his mind winds down from the nigh high panic it was in before. At some point, one of Orla’s hands gently settles on the nape of his sweaty neck, easing his head down into resting atop her chest. 

Orla’s steady heartbeat further grounds him. It enables him to focus on the fact that she’s alive, unlike what his mind tries to claim earlier. Friede sighs quietly, frozen in this position for what feels like hours until Orla speaks up.

“Hey, are you back with me now?”

“Yeah,” he mouths, then clears his throat to say in a steadier voice. “Yeah, ‘m good now.”

Orla hums in response, and while she seems content to leave him like this for as long as he wants, Friede now feels the deep pangs of shame hitting him. Biting his inner cheek, he slowly pushes himself off of Orla, quickly turning his head to swipe at his eyes. It’s a feeble attempt of regaining back his tattered pride, not when a brief glance at her showcases the evidence of his breakdown on her shirt.

“So… I’d ask if you’re alright but–” Orla gestures lightly between the two of them. “–I’m guessing that’s not the case.”

“I’m sorry,” Friede coughs, feelings his cheeks burn in embarrassment. “I–I didn’t expect you to…”

“Oh, Cap came to get me,” Orla says, sporting a faint smile. “He seems–insistent that I follow him, so I did. And I’m glad.”

Right, Cap would do that. His partner always looked out for him, and in a situation where he’s unable to Volt Tackle his way through, it’s reasonable to assume that he’ll seek out someone who can deal with the issue. 

Friede’s grateful, even if it’s something that he’ll realize much later. Right now, he’s battling both shame and exhaustion. His brows furrow from the stress of it all, but they smoothed out when Orla pressed her finger against his forehead.

“I can practically hear the gears turning in that big noggin’ of yours,” she states. “Whatever it is, stop it. I know you’re going to just work yourself up again.”

Her light tone manages to make the corners of his lip quirk up. Friede’s eyes shift downwards and to the right, unable to properly meet her gaze.

“Heh, you know me well.” The faint smile drops moments later. He’s quiet for awhile, and Orla seems to understand that he needs time to regroup his thoughts. Once again, Friede’s grateful, even if there’s a part of him that thinks it’s undeserved.

“Look, with what happened today…” Friede swallows through the heavy lump in his throat. “It… it could’ve ended up a lot worse than it did. I’m sorry, it’s all my fau–hey!” 

The sudden flick to his forehead cuts off his apology. Friede instinctively covers the sting with his hand, looking confused at Orla.

Orla gazes back, nods once before lowering her hand. She crosses her arms. “Sorry but it sounded to me that you were trying to apologize for something that was completely out of your power.”

“But–”

“Nu-uh. All of us agreed to go. We all understood the risks of going up against the Explorers and Rayquaza.”

“Yes, but–”

“What happened was something no one could’ve expected. The ship suffered damage but everyone got out of it safely, did we not?”

“Yeah but it–”

“Should be all that matters, yes? Then I don’t see why–”

“Because you all trusted me, okay!?” Friede doesn’t mean to raise his voice but it does surprise Orla into silence. He covers half of his face with his hand, heaving out a deep sigh. “I’m the captain of the Rising Volt Tacklers. All of you trusted me and that trust nearly got you all killed.”

Friede closes his eyes, unwilling to see what kind of expression Orla makes. That only serves to make him vulnerable to the next flick on his forehead, this one seemingly harder than the last.

“Ow! Why do you keep doing that!?” Friede’s a bit annoyed now, gaze narrowing at Orla.

“It’s because someone’s being an idiot right now,” Orla replies, meeting his eyes with an unimpressed look of her own. “Look, do you trust me to make sure the ship’s engine runs smoothly?”

“Yeah?” Despite the confused note to it, he responds without any hesitation.

“Do you trust Mollie to look after the Pokemon in the event of an emergency?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then do you trust Murdock to steer the ship in the event that you’re unable to?”

“Of course.”

“So we trusted you to look after the kids and deal with whatever trouble that came their way, simple as that,” Orla concluded. “I can confidently say that as infuriating as you can get, no one here regrets trusting you Friede.”

Stunned into silence, he remains still when Orla reaches out to bump her fist against his chest. “So put you trust in that at least.”

Friede stares down at the fist. Abruptly, he exhales deeply, shoulders dropping. “Alright, you made your point Orla.”

When she puts it like that, Friede can’t help but think his previous thoughts were silly. It deepens the embarrassment he feels earlier, though he also feels like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. At the same time, the physical and emotional exhaustion of today hits him like a full bodied Volt Tackle. 

“I think it’s better for you to get some rest,” Orla gently suggests. Friede thinks he nodded at her suggestion, though it’s hard to tell when it feels like his head is stuffed with cotton. There seems to be hands helping him lay down, and when his head hits the pillow, his blanket is covering him. 

“Mmm… but I still gotta…”

“Shh… don’t worry about everything.” A gentle hand settles over his forehead, slowly sliding down till it covers his eyes. “Just rest. Trust us to keep everything safe, okay?”

Trust. That’s something he can do.