Gardevoir Girl
is NOT a girl
Warnings: human/Pokemon love (although one-sided), yaoi, but nothing dirty. Rated PG for romance and death.
I was originally going to make this a Staffshipping one-shot, but I decided against it for several reasons, the main two being my dislike of using canon characters and the fact that some events wouldn’t match up. So I changed the entire story to make the characters my own. I know that there are many homophobes in the world so I don’t expect many reviews, but at least I will have finally posted something that has been in my heart for a long time. I was going to wait until Saturday to post it, but I’ve written it now so I don’t see why I should wait.
This one-shot was inspired by the song ‘Shadow Of The Day’ by Linkin Park, and includes some of the lyrics near the end. It’s their song, not mine.
The moon is full, the breeze is bitingly cold and the snow thickly blankets the rooftops and ground. I sit shivering outside, my legs tucked beneath me and my tail curled around my feet. Not even my being partly Steel type is enough to stave off the cold, and my short dark fur offers almost no protection.
My ruby eyes stare unblinkingly at the moon, which hangs bright and round high above. I feel a hand fall on my shoulder and I twist suddenly, gazing around for another living being. The night is silent as more and more snow settles on every surface.
I sigh heavily and shake my head, dislodging the snow building up between my long pointed ears. My entire body is beginning to tremble continually and I know I should be inside, but I can’t bring myself to leave my post.
I tilt my head down, gazing from my rooftop into a lit window in the opposite building. The tip of my tail twitches and I absently shake one paw, freeing it from the mound of snow building up around it. My eyes never leave the window as a dark figure moves through the room beyond.
A wordless moan escapes my numb lips before I can stop it; a moan of longing and despair. My mind travels to the single bed in that distant room. I quickly close my eyes and block out the thoughts that threaten to enter my head. I can’t stand to think about what is happening inside those walls.
Abruptly I stand, swaying on legs stiff from cold. I stretch my cramped muscles and walk slowly to the edge of my rooftop. Easily I crouch and spring to the ground, landing safely and silently knee-deep in snow.
It is time to go back.
My feet follow the familiar path away from the lit window, but my mind remains in the room. My ears twitch involuntarily as though touched by a warm hand and the ghostly sound of beeping echoes in my head. My heart aches for the one trapped inside that room.
My wide paws find a doorknob and I turn it, letting myself into a warm and crowded living room. The buzz of conversation inside immediately stops as all eyes are drawn to me. Hushed voices reach my sensitive ears despite their owners’ attempts to keep them quiet.
“Lucario is finally back!”
“Was he out in the cold the whole time?”
“Just think of how hard this must be for him…”
One figure, my master’s sister, rushes to greet me, her dark hair bouncing at the sides of her head as she moves. She gives me a warm smile and places one hand on my shoulder, drawing me into the room and closing the door behind me all at once.
“Where have you been?” she asks, guiding me into an empty chair. “We were worried about you!”
I sink into the soft aqua upholstery, refusing to answer her question. I know the truth. She was not worried about me at all. She does not love me, nor do any of the others. She does not even know the meaning of the word.
At least, not the way I know it.
The conversations resume once more as I study the crowd in the room. I am the only Pokemon here and I can see no children. I have met all of these adults at least once; they are all my master’s family, his cousins and siblings and even his parents. They are all here because of their daily visits to him. I am also here for this reason, as well as one other.
I have nowhere else to go.
I jump in shock as a hand falls on my shoulder. My master’s nineteen-year-old cousin stands beside me, her expression kindly. “Are you tired?” she asks. “You can go to bed whenever you want.”
I shake my head firmly and watch her begin to move away. Suddenly a question occurs to me and I summon the telepathy I have learned over the many years with my master.
“Is thirty old?”
The entire room falls silent and all eyes turn toward me. I can sense the tension in the air and read the anxiety in every face. The cousin moves back to my side, resting her hand gently on my arm. “What was that?”
“Is thirty old for humans?” I repeat. “Do humans often die at thirty?”
A few people cast uneasy glances at each other before turning back to me. I can see the sadness in every pair of eyes. “No,” my master’s sister says heavily. “No, humans don’t often die at thirty. Thirty is far too young to die.”
“Then why does it happen?” I demand, feeling my ears flatten against my skull in my anger.
“Because sometimes people get sick,” my master’s cousin says softly, her hand covering my paw. “Humans get sick just like Pokemon do, and sometimes they can’t get better.”
“But all of you…” I glare around the room, seeing everyone quickly look away to avoid my eyes. “You all said that he would get better if I supported him!”
The girl gently strokes my paw. “He fought harder because you were beside him every day,” she says gently, “but not everyone can fight it off completely. He lasted this long and he did his best to get better, but it just didn’t work.”
I rise to my feet, brushing her hand away and feeling my ears return to their natural positions. “I’m going to bed,” I say quietly. I feel every pair of eyes on my back as I walk out of the room.
My bedroom is tiny, cold and bare, but at least I don’t have to share it. I sink down on the lumpy mattress on the floor and draw my thin blanket over myself to stave off the cold. My eyes sting and I blink hard, staring at the ceiling as I wait for sleep to come.
My sight splinters into a thousand fragments and a single tear makes its way slowly down the side of my face. I rub my eyes with the side of my wrist but another tear quickly replaces the one I wipe away. I roll onto my side and curl up, trying to keep in as much warmth as possible.
My body shakes involuntarily and I bite my lip, feeling hot droplets trickle down my cheeks and fall onto the mattress. Before long I feel a damp patch growing beneath my head. I squeeze my eyes closed and eventually feel my shuddering slow and my consciousness drift.
I wake with a jolt several hours later to find the house dark and silent. My breathing is quick and my heart pounds rapidly in my chest. I know instinctively that something is wrong.
No sounds reach my ears as I scramble out of bed and edge out into the hallway. The house is completely dark, but my sharp eyes easily pick out the details of my surroundings. I move silently through the house and let myself out into the night, closing the door behind me.
The snow is still very deep and the air is chilling. I set out toward the building I was watching earlier, ignoring the cold despite the fact that the sudden transition from warm to freezing has caused me to begin shivering once more.
No one stops me as I push open the door and enter the hospital. In the hallways a few doctors and nurses glance at me, but no one cares about why I am there. They know I am visiting someone, despite the late hour.
I push open another door and watch a strip of light fall across the single bed beyond. I step into a darkened room and nudge the door closed behind me, allowing the darkness to enclose me again.
The figure on the bed does not move, but the continual beeping from a machine beside him tells me that he is still alive. I fall into a hard plastic chair beside him, my gaze on his sleeping face.
Tears burn my eyes once more as I remember the day, four years earlier, when my master told me he was sick. He was only twenty-six years old and already an accomplished trainer, but he gave it all up instantly and went to live with his family. He began to grow steadily weaker despite his treatment.
I rub my eyes and gaze sadly at the empty red and white sphere sitting on my master’s bedside cabinet. It used to contain his other partner, the Houndoom he had begun training with. He had released her not long after his first visit to hospital. He had attempted to release me too, but I had refused to leave.
The man on the bed gives a soft cough and tilts his head to one side. His eyes are slightly open, his breathing heavy and shallow. “Lucario,” he whispers.
My heart begins to beat faster and my paws tremble as I reach for his hand. “I’m here, master,” I say.
A small smile creases the edges of his mouth and he gently squeezes my paw. “I feel so weak,” he sighs. “I think it’s the end.”
I shake my head desperately, my vision blurring as my tears spill over again. “Don’t say that,” I beg. “I’m here supporting you, so you’re going to get better. Your sister told me…”
“Did she tell you that not everyone can get better?”
I hesitate before nodding reluctantly. “But you’re strong,” I insist. “You can get better… can’t you?”
“No, Lucario,” he whispers. “I’m sorry, but I can’t get better.”
I grip his hand more tightly, shaking with silent sobs. “You… can’t…” I choke, squeezing my eyes closed as more tears spill down my cheeks. “I need you… I can’t survive without you… master, you can’t do this…”
He reaches for my paw with his free hand and gently strokes it. “You’ll have to survive without me,” he breathes.
“No…”
I lift my head, barely able to see his face through my tear-filled eyes. My heart is pounding rapidly in anticipation of what I am about to say. I take a deep breath and brace myself. “Master… I should have told you a long time ago…”
He watches me mutely as I grip his hand tightly. “Master… I love you.”
“I love you too,” he whispers feebly. “You’re my best friend. You’re almost my brother.”
I shake my head; that is not what I mean. “No, master… I didn’t mean like that… I mean…” Suddenly I lurch forward, leaving my chair as my lips close around his in our first and last kiss.
We break apart and my eyes fly open, taking in his shocked expression. I quickly resume my seat, feeling embarrassed but pleased at the same time. I have wanted to do that for many years. He stares at me in horror and I begin to worry that I have offended him.
Suddenly his face breaks into a faint smile. “Well, I certainly didn’t expect that.” He begins to chuckle, an almost silent sound which quickly turns into a weak cough. By the time it subsides, his breathing is ragged and uneven.
“I’m glad you could find love,” he whispers, “but you should have chosen someone other than your dying trainer to love.”
“Master…”
But I have nothing to say now. His eyes close and his face relaxes into a calm expression. “I’m so tired…” he breathes. I once more reach for his hand, which is lying limply by his side. His hand is warm and a faint pulse beats slowly beneath the skin.
“I love you,” I whisper, feeling the pulse slow gradually.
Thud… thud… thud…
The next beat never comes. A soft, wordless sigh, my master’s final breath, escapes his lips.
“I love you.”
The machine beside his bed falls silent for the last time as I lower my head onto his chest, as I have wanted to do for many years. I feel his warmth against my cheek and allow a single tear to fall onto his thin blanket.
“I love you.”
I was originally going to make this a Staffshipping one-shot, but I decided against it for several reasons, the main two being my dislike of using canon characters and the fact that some events wouldn’t match up. So I changed the entire story to make the characters my own. I know that there are many homophobes in the world so I don’t expect many reviews, but at least I will have finally posted something that has been in my heart for a long time. I was going to wait until Saturday to post it, but I’ve written it now so I don’t see why I should wait.
This one-shot was inspired by the song ‘Shadow Of The Day’ by Linkin Park, and includes some of the lyrics near the end. It’s their song, not mine.
Broken
The moon is full, the breeze is bitingly cold and the snow thickly blankets the rooftops and ground. I sit shivering outside, my legs tucked beneath me and my tail curled around my feet. Not even my being partly Steel type is enough to stave off the cold, and my short dark fur offers almost no protection.
My ruby eyes stare unblinkingly at the moon, which hangs bright and round high above. I feel a hand fall on my shoulder and I twist suddenly, gazing around for another living being. The night is silent as more and more snow settles on every surface.
I sigh heavily and shake my head, dislodging the snow building up between my long pointed ears. My entire body is beginning to tremble continually and I know I should be inside, but I can’t bring myself to leave my post.
I tilt my head down, gazing from my rooftop into a lit window in the opposite building. The tip of my tail twitches and I absently shake one paw, freeing it from the mound of snow building up around it. My eyes never leave the window as a dark figure moves through the room beyond.
A wordless moan escapes my numb lips before I can stop it; a moan of longing and despair. My mind travels to the single bed in that distant room. I quickly close my eyes and block out the thoughts that threaten to enter my head. I can’t stand to think about what is happening inside those walls.
Abruptly I stand, swaying on legs stiff from cold. I stretch my cramped muscles and walk slowly to the edge of my rooftop. Easily I crouch and spring to the ground, landing safely and silently knee-deep in snow.
It is time to go back.
My feet follow the familiar path away from the lit window, but my mind remains in the room. My ears twitch involuntarily as though touched by a warm hand and the ghostly sound of beeping echoes in my head. My heart aches for the one trapped inside that room.
My wide paws find a doorknob and I turn it, letting myself into a warm and crowded living room. The buzz of conversation inside immediately stops as all eyes are drawn to me. Hushed voices reach my sensitive ears despite their owners’ attempts to keep them quiet.
“Lucario is finally back!”
“Was he out in the cold the whole time?”
“Just think of how hard this must be for him…”
One figure, my master’s sister, rushes to greet me, her dark hair bouncing at the sides of her head as she moves. She gives me a warm smile and places one hand on my shoulder, drawing me into the room and closing the door behind me all at once.
“Where have you been?” she asks, guiding me into an empty chair. “We were worried about you!”
I sink into the soft aqua upholstery, refusing to answer her question. I know the truth. She was not worried about me at all. She does not love me, nor do any of the others. She does not even know the meaning of the word.
At least, not the way I know it.
The conversations resume once more as I study the crowd in the room. I am the only Pokemon here and I can see no children. I have met all of these adults at least once; they are all my master’s family, his cousins and siblings and even his parents. They are all here because of their daily visits to him. I am also here for this reason, as well as one other.
I have nowhere else to go.
I jump in shock as a hand falls on my shoulder. My master’s nineteen-year-old cousin stands beside me, her expression kindly. “Are you tired?” she asks. “You can go to bed whenever you want.”
I shake my head firmly and watch her begin to move away. Suddenly a question occurs to me and I summon the telepathy I have learned over the many years with my master.
“Is thirty old?”
The entire room falls silent and all eyes turn toward me. I can sense the tension in the air and read the anxiety in every face. The cousin moves back to my side, resting her hand gently on my arm. “What was that?”
“Is thirty old for humans?” I repeat. “Do humans often die at thirty?”
A few people cast uneasy glances at each other before turning back to me. I can see the sadness in every pair of eyes. “No,” my master’s sister says heavily. “No, humans don’t often die at thirty. Thirty is far too young to die.”
“Then why does it happen?” I demand, feeling my ears flatten against my skull in my anger.
“Because sometimes people get sick,” my master’s cousin says softly, her hand covering my paw. “Humans get sick just like Pokemon do, and sometimes they can’t get better.”
“But all of you…” I glare around the room, seeing everyone quickly look away to avoid my eyes. “You all said that he would get better if I supported him!”
The girl gently strokes my paw. “He fought harder because you were beside him every day,” she says gently, “but not everyone can fight it off completely. He lasted this long and he did his best to get better, but it just didn’t work.”
I rise to my feet, brushing her hand away and feeling my ears return to their natural positions. “I’m going to bed,” I say quietly. I feel every pair of eyes on my back as I walk out of the room.
My bedroom is tiny, cold and bare, but at least I don’t have to share it. I sink down on the lumpy mattress on the floor and draw my thin blanket over myself to stave off the cold. My eyes sting and I blink hard, staring at the ceiling as I wait for sleep to come.
My sight splinters into a thousand fragments and a single tear makes its way slowly down the side of my face. I rub my eyes with the side of my wrist but another tear quickly replaces the one I wipe away. I roll onto my side and curl up, trying to keep in as much warmth as possible.
My body shakes involuntarily and I bite my lip, feeling hot droplets trickle down my cheeks and fall onto the mattress. Before long I feel a damp patch growing beneath my head. I squeeze my eyes closed and eventually feel my shuddering slow and my consciousness drift.
I wake with a jolt several hours later to find the house dark and silent. My breathing is quick and my heart pounds rapidly in my chest. I know instinctively that something is wrong.
No sounds reach my ears as I scramble out of bed and edge out into the hallway. The house is completely dark, but my sharp eyes easily pick out the details of my surroundings. I move silently through the house and let myself out into the night, closing the door behind me.
The snow is still very deep and the air is chilling. I set out toward the building I was watching earlier, ignoring the cold despite the fact that the sudden transition from warm to freezing has caused me to begin shivering once more.
No one stops me as I push open the door and enter the hospital. In the hallways a few doctors and nurses glance at me, but no one cares about why I am there. They know I am visiting someone, despite the late hour.
I push open another door and watch a strip of light fall across the single bed beyond. I step into a darkened room and nudge the door closed behind me, allowing the darkness to enclose me again.
The figure on the bed does not move, but the continual beeping from a machine beside him tells me that he is still alive. I fall into a hard plastic chair beside him, my gaze on his sleeping face.
Tears burn my eyes once more as I remember the day, four years earlier, when my master told me he was sick. He was only twenty-six years old and already an accomplished trainer, but he gave it all up instantly and went to live with his family. He began to grow steadily weaker despite his treatment.
I rub my eyes and gaze sadly at the empty red and white sphere sitting on my master’s bedside cabinet. It used to contain his other partner, the Houndoom he had begun training with. He had released her not long after his first visit to hospital. He had attempted to release me too, but I had refused to leave.
The man on the bed gives a soft cough and tilts his head to one side. His eyes are slightly open, his breathing heavy and shallow. “Lucario,” he whispers.
(I close both locks below the window…)
My heart begins to beat faster and my paws tremble as I reach for his hand. “I’m here, master,” I say.
A small smile creases the edges of his mouth and he gently squeezes my paw. “I feel so weak,” he sighs. “I think it’s the end.”
I shake my head desperately, my vision blurring as my tears spill over again. “Don’t say that,” I beg. “I’m here supporting you, so you’re going to get better. Your sister told me…”
“Did she tell you that not everyone can get better?”
(I close both blinds and turn away…)
I hesitate before nodding reluctantly. “But you’re strong,” I insist. “You can get better… can’t you?”
“No, Lucario,” he whispers. “I’m sorry, but I can’t get better.”
I grip his hand more tightly, shaking with silent sobs. “You… can’t…” I choke, squeezing my eyes closed as more tears spill down my cheeks. “I need you… I can’t survive without you… master, you can’t do this…”
He reaches for my paw with his free hand and gently strokes it. “You’ll have to survive without me,” he breathes.
“No…”
(Sometimes solutions aren’t so simple…)
I lift my head, barely able to see his face through my tear-filled eyes. My heart is pounding rapidly in anticipation of what I am about to say. I take a deep breath and brace myself. “Master… I should have told you a long time ago…”
He watches me mutely as I grip his hand tightly. “Master… I love you.”
(Sometimes goodbye’s the only way…)
“I love you too,” he whispers feebly. “You’re my best friend. You’re almost my brother.”
I shake my head; that is not what I mean. “No, master… I didn’t mean like that… I mean…” Suddenly I lurch forward, leaving my chair as my lips close around his in our first and last kiss.
(And the sun will set for you…)
We break apart and my eyes fly open, taking in his shocked expression. I quickly resume my seat, feeling embarrassed but pleased at the same time. I have wanted to do that for many years. He stares at me in horror and I begin to worry that I have offended him.
Suddenly his face breaks into a faint smile. “Well, I certainly didn’t expect that.” He begins to chuckle, an almost silent sound which quickly turns into a weak cough. By the time it subsides, his breathing is ragged and uneven.
(The sun will set for you…)
“I’m glad you could find love,” he whispers, “but you should have chosen someone other than your dying trainer to love.”
“Master…”
(And the shadow of the day…)
But I have nothing to say now. His eyes close and his face relaxes into a calm expression. “I’m so tired…” he breathes. I once more reach for his hand, which is lying limply by his side. His hand is warm and a faint pulse beats slowly beneath the skin.
“I love you,” I whisper, feeling the pulse slow gradually.
Thud… thud… thud…
(Will embrace the world in grey…)
The next beat never comes. A soft, wordless sigh, my master’s final breath, escapes his lips.
“I love you.”
The machine beside his bed falls silent for the last time as I lower my head onto his chest, as I have wanted to do for many years. I feel his warmth against my cheek and allow a single tear to fall onto his thin blanket.
(And the sun will set for you.)
“I love you.”
