Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Coming Home ❯ Chapter 1

Standing in the living room of Team AWD's base, a purple serpent with a frightening pattern on his hood was balancing an ornament on his tail as he attempted to find the proper place for it on the tree. Lifting the shiny silver ball to a branch, he struggled to clasp the hook around it to securely fasten it in the spot. Narrowing his eyes when he couldn't seem to do it, he attempted to use his mouth to get the job done before a shrill voice interrupted his work.

“Corvax! You're doing it all wrong!”

“I'm sssorry,” the Arbok replied sarcastically, “but I don't have clawsss to be perfect with!” He had been trying to decorate the Christmas tree with her for the past hour, but Toxi was convinced that he couldn't do it, no matter how determined he was. The Ogre Scorp Pokemon kept pestering him about it until he finally told her, “Well, then, you do it!”

“Having a lovers' spat?”

Both turned at the sound of their leader's teasing voice to see the dark-furred weasel standing in the doorway, a knowing smirk on her face. Her normally sharp carmine eyes were surprisingly soft as she waved in greeting and walked over to exam the nearly-finished tree. She had a bounce in her step that only came around wintertime, the season that Weavile were built for. “Nice job. Purple and silver go together quite nicely.” She crossed her arms over her chest as she examined the placement of each ornament, finding nothing wrong with it.

“I wanted to add some blue, too, but we figured that would be overdoing it.” Sharing a grin with her boyfriend, the Drapion asked, “Do you want to help, Lady Weavile?”

The Sharp Claw Pokemon shook her head and faked a scowl. “And watch you two make kissy-faces at each other? No, thanks.” When they grinned and rolled their eyes, turning back to their decorating, she went on, “Besides, Team Raiders invited me to spend a few hours over there.”

Corvax raised an eyebrow at that. “And Melody agreed to that?”

“Probably not, but who cares what she thinks?” Smirking mischievously as they all chuckled, she waved in farewell to them and wished them luck on the tree. “And I better come back to a base that's not burnt to the ground!”

“You can count on usss,” Corvax replied with a laugh.

“I better be able to,” was her reply as she closed the door behind her, and she shook her head and gave a satisfied sigh as she started down the path to Team Raiders' base. “Although, I don't think I need to worry too much-they'll be too busy cuddling or something to cause any trouble.” Grinning at the protesting they would do if they heard her say that, all thoughts of her teammates evaporated when she looked at the wintry world around her.

Lady Weavile smiled contently as she made her way through the blanket of cold and white that layered everything. Finally, the world is covered in snow. I don't have to imagine it anymore! Happier then she had ever been before, she waved merrily at the crazy Xatu that appraised the items explorers brought back from dungeons. Pleased when he grew confused, she gave him a “Merry Christmas, darling” before continuing down the road. Her pace was leisurely yet excited, and she reached out to grab a snowflake as it tumbled towards the ground in a graceful dance. And what a beautiful world it is. She watched it melt in her hand before eyeing the naked trees that she passed, wondering if Melody was freaking out because all of the vegetation around her was dying. Another perfectly sound reason to love winter!

The weasel let her gaze wander all around until they finally settled on the mountains far off in the distance, and her thoughts went to her folks living there. It reminds me of back home . . .

She hadn't seen any of them since she created her team-she had lost track of how many years, it was so long ago-and she knew that they probably would have appreciated her coming back to see them for once. Her mother might have made a fuss about “never coming to see her poor old mother and father,” and her father would have been gruff and stern most of the time, but she was really a kind soul and he loved all of his children very much. In fact, her brothers and sisters had probably all grown up and moved out, off to see the world for themselves, so she was sure they'd be feeling pretty lonely. She should go see them . . .

But, she didn't want to. She'd rather send a letter back instead.

I know the holidays are for quality time with the family, but I don't want to go back. Too much drama. Lady Weavile thought back to the time when her parents had actually tried to stop her from becoming an explorer. They had been worried for her, but she didn't believe they had a right to govern her entire life. Now they had probably given up on changing her career and just wished for her to stay safe, or maybe they were busy with another child that had similar dreams. Would they stop him or her from doing it, too? Or had they learned that a child had to leave the nest sometime?

And really . . . Toxi and Corvax are my family now. Smiling at the thought, the weasel shook off the bit of snow that had settled on her head and shoulders as she remembered the past month they had spent finally getting to know each other; they had even all moved into the base and turned it into their house, something she had avoided doing to keep away from them.  We're a lot closer than we were before, and now there's no doubt in them about my leadership. And, I trust them with my life. They were her partners, after all-even if they were sometimes too busy with each other to notice her. But, that was okay. They were still working out the little kinks.

Speaking of working things out . . .

Lady Weavile's gaze rose to the sky as she thought of Team Raiders. Melody, the Roserade that still hated her guts, had simmered down to a quiet loathing as the weasel walked in and out of the base freely. Only the occasional “lock up the valuables” comment would come from her, but even then it was mostly to herself. Although she would have liked to have a go at Melody, Lady Weavile realized that it would solve nothing and simply decided to ignore her. It was working slightly, but there was still a long way to go before she could even consider them being “neutral,” let alone “friends.”

Bobby, on the other hand, had quickly become the mother-away-from-home or older sister that Lady Weavile could talk to openly about anything-from missions to Team Charm to what prank to pull on Melody. Although the latter was highly discouraged, the Rhyperior would always give advice on what to do and how to treat the people that angered her, and occasionally she would share secrets of her own, much to Lady Weavile's delight. She was like a mentor that helped her become a better person but accepted all of her flaws regardless, and that was what made her so likable and trustworthy.

As for Rain . . .

She stopped in her tracks as the Gallade appeared in her mind. A mixture of joy and awkwardness caused her face to bloom in a blush that wasn't entirely due to the cold weather.

The leader of Team Raiders seemed to be a lot more confident and secure in his leadership after confessing; he didn't worry over his teammates anymore because he knew they could handle things, and he was more relaxed during those stressful escort missions, which caused everyone to feel the same. All-in-all, this was a welcome change, and even Melody couldn't argue about it after he started to whistle and hum more often around the house. Lady Weavile was glad, too, for he was a lot less anxious around her and didn't flinch or tense up when she slipped up with “darling.”

Now, though, it seemed to have transferred over to her.

While before she would have sprinkled the word “darling” over her sentences as if they were ice cream, now it felt weird to say “darling” and actually have it make sense. Every time she said it, a weird sensation would make her stomach clench and unclench rather uncomfortably and cause her to look away to regain her composure. She was frustrated with herself and had asked Bobby what to do, but the advice to “just be yourself” and “act natural” caused her even more confusion. How was that supposed to help when saying what she normally would say was what was causing the problem? She tried to ignore it, but there was still that little ping of nervousness that would derail her train of thought rather easily when trying to have a conversation with him. The last thing she needed was to mess up in front of Team Charm, or worse, the Guildmaster and his parroting friend-the rumors would flare up like a wildfire and never stop until she died.

That was a disturbing thought.

It was bad enough that right after Toxi and Corvax were open about their relationship to the public, Rain convinced her to tell the two about theirs. Although they hadn't blabbed it out to all in Treasure Town, she was sure that those times they would snap their heads up from their discussions when she entered the room was from paranoia that she would overhear them talking about her. Hoping that wasn't the case but highly doubting her wish, she let them be, deciding not to bring it up so they didn't have the excuse to talk about it with her. She already felt like a hypocrite for hiding her relationship after complaining about their secrecy.

Oh, stop it! She shook her head, knocking the gloomy thoughts from her mind as she scolded herself. It's wintertime, and Christmas Eve! No need to be wallowing in self-pity and whatnot. Determined to be confident and calm, she thought of all of the good things that came out of the relationship. Melody hasn't been allowed to bother you in weeks-not without Bobby and Rain scolding her like a spoiled child. You can go sit on the beach with Rain without your teammates being all nosy, and just talk about whatever. And sometimes your team hangs out with them, so it's like a big party! What makes you think you can complain? You're living the good life, Weavile.

Feeling a lot better, she grinned as she finally came upon Team Raiders' house and marched up to the front door. “And you're about to have a wonderful Christmas, too!” Making three sharp knocks on the door, she hummed a carol as she waited and perked up when the doorknob turned-

Revealing just the Roserade she was hoping it wasn't.

It only took a moment for Melody to recognize her, and half of another to slam the door in her face.

And my good mood just flew out the window.

Scowling at the door as she planned to play a horribly cruel joke on the Bouquet Pokemon, she impatiently knocked again and shouted, “Hey, come on, it's Christmas Eve! Show some holiday spirit!” Fuming out in the snow, she was half-glad half-furious that Bobby answered the door (she had a snowball ready to fling at the Grass/Poison-Type).

“I'm sorry,” she sighed. “You know how she is.”

“Yeah,” Lady Weavile grumbled as she stepped in, “I know, alright. Freakin' Rose-a-bitch.” Shaking the malicious thoughts away for now, she grinned at the Rhyperior and asked, “So, how're you?”

“Great!” Bobby laughed, beckoning the weasel over to the living room, explaining, “Melody was just baking cookies, and Rain and I are decorating the tree!”

“Won't she catch fire” was her hopeful reply, but it wasn't answered as they entered the room and saw Team Raiders' leader busy stretching his arm to get the star on the top of the tree. His arms were pretty long, but not long enough, and so he was attempting to balance on a chair to get the star in place. Giving a small “aha” when he succeeded, he was in the process of picking up another ornament when he noticed the two at the doorway. Carefully placing it back in the box, he stood up straight and smiled in greeting, dusting off stray glitter from his arm.

“Nice to see you could come.”

“Well, darling,” she began, trying to seem as confident as ever, “I am a busy girl . . . but, I decided to be nice and grace you with my presence.” Waving a claw as if to dismiss praise and gratitude, she winked at the two of them before stepping forward and examining their tree. It was covered in red, silver, and green ornaments as if they were dressing it up as a decoy for Rain's fan club, and she picked a candy cane off of a branch as she asked, “So, you guys doing anything special?”

“Actually,” Bobby spoke up, “I'm off to visit my family up north. I'll be spending the holidays with them.”

 

“. . . Oh.” A bit put off by the news, Lady Weavile shook her head and asked, “What about Melody?”

 

“She's doing the same.” Grinning at the overjoyed look on the weasel's face, Bobby continued, “But Rain's staying here to watch over things while we're gone.”

 

Lady Weavile froze in her victory dance, a curious expression overcoming her smirk. “Is that so?” While she looked contemplative about the news on the outside, she was actually panicking.

 

Bobby and Melody were going to leave. Rain was staying. Doing the rather simple math, one would see that that would leave her in Team Raiders' house-

 

Alone.

 

With him.

 

Trying not to be obvious about her terror, she waved nonchalantly at the Rhyperior as she told her, “Well, I hope you have a great time-and that Melody catches on fire.” When they both gave her a stern look, she grumbled, “I'm just joking! Geez, nobody around here has a sense of humor . . .”

 

Shaking her head at the Sharp Claw Pokemon, Bobby told them, “Well, I'm off.” Waving in good-bye, she walked out of the living room and called for Melody to accompany her out the door, probably to journey together for part of the trip to avoid being lonely. When they heard the front door slam shut behind them, Lady Weavile gulped.

 

It's rather quiet now that they're gone . . .

 

“. . . So, uhh,” she turned around to look at the Gallade fixing a few ornaments on the tree, “you and Bobby decorated this?”

 

“Yeah. Well,” he admitted, “I had to do most of the decorating. Bobby kept breaking the ornaments with her claws.”

 

She snorted, imagining the heartbroken expression on the Rhyperior's face. “I can imagine how bothered she must have been.”

 

He grinned. “Her exact words were “shatterproof, my ass.”” He shook his head as she laughed. “And Melody gave up on trying to help when she got tangled in the ribbons.”

 

“Oh, and you guys helped her out?” She smirked when he rolled his eyes, as if knowing she had to comment on that. “How dull. Seriously, you guys don't know how to have fun.”

 

“And fun is getting chased by a murderous Roserade?” When she nodded mischievously, he shook his head at her predictable nature before adding as an afterthought, “You should have seen when Bobby accidentally pushed me into the fireplace, then.”

 

“No way!” She laughed when he nodded sheepishly, holding her stomach as a picture appeared in her mind of him running around on fire while Melody freaked out. She probably shouted “I told you the fireplace was a bad idea,” now that she thought about it.

 

“It's not funny.” He scowled when she continued to laugh at him, and he crossed his arms and pouted. “I'd like to see you catch on fire and try to laugh.”

 

“Oh, that's not even funny, darling.” She copied his pout, making a show of her displeasure as she puffed out her bottom lip in exaggeration. “At least you aren't weak to it.”

 

“But it still hurts.”

 

She gave a small “humph!” of fake indignation. “Well, it hurts me more.”

 

He threw his hands up in defeat as she winked playfully. Maybe she could get over her nervousness after all.

 

 

.

 

 

As he grabbed another log, he asked her, “Aren't you glad it's finally winter?”

 

“Yeah.” Lady Weavile sighed, thinking of the beautiful scenery outside as she sat by the fireplace alongside him. “It's like . . . coming home.” She had her knees drawn up so she could hug them to her chest, and her gaze was focused on the flames as she tried not to feel awkward.

 

The Gallade nodded as he threw the wood into the fire, causing it to flare momentarily before settling down like a Growlithe with a bone. “I can understand that.” Then, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him until just then, he asked curiously, “Wait, why aren't you visiting your family?”

 

“They're doing fine without me,” she told him, “and I really don't want to deal with the drama. I like my Christmas quiet and uneventful, not full of shouting and drinking and being overly merry.” Then, before he could reply to that, she threw the ball back into his court. “And why aren't you?”

 

“Me?” When she nodded, he took a moment to answer her. “Well, I go back home every other Christmas, and this is the year I stay here.”

 

“Ah. That makes sense.”

 

“But,” he returned to the subject of her family, “it's always nice to see them every once and a while. How long has it been since you've visited?”

 

“I . . .” She blinked, realizing she didn't remember. “To be honest, I've lost track of time.”

 

“That means “too long.”” Smiling when she shot a glare at him, Rain went on, “Your family would be glad to see you every once in a while. Even if you think it's a pain . . . don't you want to see them, too?”

 

“. . . Sometimes.” Her voice was quiet with the confession. “It's always too easy to pretend that I'm a little kid again, and when I walk into my house, my mom'll come up and give me a hug and ask me how my day was.” Looking down at her feet, she thought of the times she had almost given up being an explorer, when she had stomped to the base (back when she lived separate from her teammates) and thrown things around to get out all of her frustrations. Then, it would be all too easy to pretend her mother was there, giving her advice as well as hinting “you can always come back home.”

 

After a while of a silence which was only broken by the crackling of the fire, Rain shifted in his spot beside her, his gaze on her intently. “Did you . . . have any problems with them?”

 

“A few.” A lot. “. . . Alright, a lot. They had tried to stop me from being an explorer, and I didn't like that.” Thinking back to those times, she realized she had been so angry at them, and that made her sad. “And, I think that if I go back . . .”

 

“They'll think you gave up?”

 

She nodded. “Yeah. My dad was always saying that I'd come back home eventually, get the silly notion of exploring out of my head and get a real job.” She scowled. “They used to send me letters giving me little hints on what to do in case my team wasn't doing so well, but after a few months they just gave up.”

 

All of this, and more, she had told Bobby. She had understood why she didn't feel like going back home, and she knew that the same uneasiness had stopped her from writing a letter. She was always afraid of what they would say, and so she had just thrown the letters away before she could finish them. She had stopped, too, after a few months.

 

“. . . I think . . .”

 

Lady Weavile looked up at him, curious about what he was going to say. He was staring at the fire now, his expression serious as he contemplated what words to use. She had rarely seen him so serious, not after they had become friends. It was the face he had used during countless missions, back when he was stressed and worried.

 

. . . Is he . . . worried about me?

 

“. . . I think,” he finally continued, “that they realized how they were wrong when they heard countless stories about your team excelling in the field, finding new places and discovering countless treasure. They saw how determined you were, and they finally decided that, if you were happy, they were, too.”

 

Her eyes widened at the incredible idea that her parents had actually agreed with her. They would never do that-they had always believed that their way was the right way for her. This was crazy, this was blasphemy-

 

But, was it true?

 

It had been long enough, after all; maybe, after all of these years, they had finally learned their lesson. Maybe, after all of their children had left them, they had realized their mistakes and wanted to fix them.

 

Maybe, after she had proved herself, they were proud of her.

 

She stuttered, her calm façade finally broken by all of these possibilities. “H-How can you be so sure?”

 

“I'm not,” he admitted. “But, I am sure that they should be proud.” He smiled warmly at her surprised expression, simply saying, “I know I am.”

 

Shocked at his sudden praise, she found herself speechless, which was an uncomfortable experience for her. “I . . .” She, for once, didn't know what to say.

 

“I'm sorry.” He shook his head, smiling sheepishly at her. “I'm being a bit too forward, aren't I?”

 

She cleared her throat, trying to overcome her awkwardness. “N-no, it's not that. And, if that was being forward, everything I've ever done to you would be being forward, darling.” Smiling at the thought that he had ironically called himself that, she told him honestly, “Really, I needed that . . . thank you.”

 

“Don't mention it. I just . . . like to spend time with you.” As if a bit embarrassed that he had admitted that out loud, he cleared his throat and added, “Although you can be a bit annoying.” Grinning when she shoved him lightly, his blush returned full force when she leaned slightly against him.

 

“. . . I'm cold.” She knew that he knew that was total Tauros, but was he going to complain? “Not I,” said the Gallade, she thought teasingly as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her a bit closer as they enjoyed each others' company before the fire. The warmth spread from the tips of her ears to her toes, and not all of it was from the fire-some of it was from a new feeling she had, one she expected Toxi and Corvax were experiencing right now as they cuddled on the couch. She was never going to tease them about it again.

 

. . . well, okay, I will, but not out of ignorance. Thinking about her teammates for a moment and wishing them well, she then mulled over their conversation before the fire, and the prospect of visiting her folks. The advice wasn't being shoved in her face, and it was as comforting as Bobby's-and yet, it was different to her. It felt closer than friendly words, and more intimate than a parent's . . . what made it so special? What would you call it?

 

Love?

 

She paused, mentally testing out the word. She couldn't remember the last time she had contemplated using that word with its serious definition.

 

. . . Yeah. Something like that.

 

“. . . I . . .” When Rain looked at her curiously, she cleared her throat before continuing, “I think I'll . . . send them a letter.”

 

At first confused as to what she meant, the Gallade smiled warmly at her attempt to meet halfway, nodding in patient acceptance.

 

“I think they'll like that.”

 

 

.

 

 

A biting chill in the wind was what greeted the Pelipper as he swooped down to the yellow glow he could pick out in the blizzard. Narrowing his eyes in disbelief, he gave a cry of utmost gratitude as he realized it was indeed a house on the top of this frozen mountain. He didn't know what kind of nutcase would want to live here, but he didn't have to care; all he needed to do was deliver the letter and hightail it out of there. Angling his wings to descend, he spiraled down until he could alight on the snow-covered mailbox and fumble with his beak to put the envelope in the slot.

 

The squawk he had given was what had alerted the old Weavile in the house to a visitor, and he watched from the window as the bird shot from the mailbox as if it housed a hungry Ekans-like they would survive in this cold. Smirking at how eager the messenger was to leave, it soon dropped into a curious frown as he wondered who would be sending them a letter all the way up here.

 

“It better not be no advertisements,” Jack muttered, getting up from his comfy chair with a groan of old age. “Or I'll be sending them back the head of a Snover!” He had thought their secluded location would protect them from such unpleasant mail, but he could have been wrong. Grumbling darkly about the world and its love for economy, he made his way to the door and slipped through it quickly to not let in the bitter winds of winter. Limping through the snow in a sour mood, he wrenched open the nearly frozen door and snatched the envelope inside.

 

When he had finally shaken off the snow and returned to his warm, cozy chair, his curiosity had grown with leaps and bounds that his old age wouldn't allow him to do himself. Tearing it open with a grumble, he unfolded the paper and scanned the neat cursive, cursing his deteriorating vision as he pulled the lamp closer.

 

What he read nearly made his heart stop.

 

“Well,” he chuckled, a rare sound from him, “I'll be. My little girl's all grown-up now.”

 

He found a tear making its way down his cheek and wiped it away with a grunt, mortified to have let himself show such emotion. Clearing his throat to make sure his voice wouldn't crack, he called out to the kitchen, “Minerva, get in here quick! There's a letter!”

 

“A letter?” After a moment of the clanging of pans in the sink, an elderly weasel walked into the den with a bewildered look on her face. “Who from?”

 

“Our little girl.” He smiled warmly. “Our little, grown-up, exploring girl.” As Minerva held her heart in shock, he passed the paper to her to let her own eyes examine Lady Weavile's letter.

 

Dear Mom and Dad . . .

 

 

.

 

 

Lots of dragon-y love (and cookies!),

~DL (“Dragon Lover”)