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battletowered · 3 years

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Commemoration

Headcanon Drabble in Leon’s “ more severe darkest day au ” verse which I’m reposting and bringing forward to this blog from the archive for the anniversary.

TW: Deals with mourning and major character death.

One year.

It’s hard for him to believe. Leon still fully expects that one of these times when his phone buzzes that his face is going to flash up on screen. That he’s going to get a call and hear him asking to want to meet up and battle or grab some lunch together. He knows it’s impossible. He knows that’s never a call he’s going to get. He could delete the contact. Give himself some kind of finality but… there’s a photo that he’d taken himself attached to that contact. Smiling wide and bright– a genuine one and not just one for the camera. One of the ones that had too much teeth because he was laughing as Leon tried to get his phone back.

His phone has never been so quiet as it has in the past year. It’s been a hard adjustment.

He’d visited this morning. Left two huge bouquets of mixed flowers because there was too much slate grey. Boring, Raihan would have called it, and Raihan deserved something as vibrant as he is… was. The headstone is modest, situated between two cypress trees. It was hard to believe they were already getting so big. Leon had spared no expense on his flowers– sweetpea, rainflowers, carnations, tulips, canterbury bells and most importantly snapdragons, because he knew that the ones named after his favorite type would have made him smile the most.

He’d gone early because Leon doesn’t think he can bring himself to face Raihan’s family. He knows they don’t blame him. They must have told him a thousand times the day of the funeral, though he can’t say he really remembers all that much from that day. Those two weeks following Eternatus’ capture were encapsulated in an ugly grey smear in his memory.

He remembers searing pain in his ribs. Feeling hollow– like something had dug a hole through his stomach. He remembers feeling like he was going to collapse a lot. He remembers the way that his head pounded to the beat of a deafeningly cheering crowd the day he lost his title.

But he barely remembered his own best friend’s funeral. What a joke. How fitting that the self-absorbed champion would have been more concerned with himself and his title during the time he should have been saying goodbye. He’d heard a million reasons why it wasn’t his fault– as if he didn’t already know that. That there was nothing Leon would have been able to do to stop Raihan from trying to protect Hammerlocke because it was his home. It’s still his home.

It feels like one failure among hundreds. Sometimes he still wonders, though, if maybe he could have. If he had just said something different. Would anything have changed if Leon hadn’t stubbornly insisted that he would be fine, but Raihan’s duty was to protect the people of Hammerlocke because they needed him.

They still need him. But he wasn’t here anymore.

That was why Leon was here, actually. At least that’s why he’d lingered after visiting the grave.

He’d assumed that the city would hold sour memories for him. Sure, it did, but not nearly so severely as Leon had expected they’d be. There was something almost inspiring about it, actually, because Hammerlocke had come together and healed the physical scars left by Eternatus. They had held on and healed, and it gave Leon the hope that he would be able to do the same. His mother had always told him that he was named after Dandelions for a reason. There was nothing more stubborn than a weed, the little plants that would keep existing in spite of everything in the world working against them. Perhaps if Leon could do that– just keep existing against everything going against him– then maybe he’d be able to shake that feeling that something was missing.

It would work. He’d made it work before. It had to work. He had no other option. The world wasn’t going to stop and wait on him to piece himself back together. The world didn’t end just because Leon felt like it was.

Still, Leon can see the city is in mourning. Or he might be projecting his own, soured mood. Either way people have been giving him space, and the streets have been so quiet. He appreciates it, honestly. It’s hard to put on a strong face, even on a good day. He won’t let himself cry in public, though he knows his face is red and swollen from doing just that earlier this morning. His eyes and head hurt, but his tears seemed to have dried up for now.

That’s a good thing anyway. He doesn’t want people to worry about him. He’ll be fine.

There’s a huff of breath, and Leon suddenly is reminded that he’d let Charizard out of her ball to help him along. She ceases his forward motion with a gentle, broad wing. He’s so glad she’s good at not getting turned around. She knows the right direction– something Leon can’t manage when he’s not spacing out and irritated. Leon looks up, relieved to see the battlements of the castle already repaired, though just the sight gives him a woozy feeling.

He hears rather than sees it coming as he looks up toward the top of the battlements, the sharp, melodic sound of wings splitting through air just a fraction of a second before he’s slammed into bodily. He teeters, barely managing to keep his footing as he struggles with the momentum, laughing breathlessly.

“Flygon!” There’s the panicked call of Sebastian as he winds his way down the staircases of the castle as fast as his legs will take him. Camilla and Aria follow in tow, though pause to wave at Leon as Sebastian rushes to come help pry the excited Pokemon off of Leon. Leon’s still laughing, though. He can’t help it with the way the large dragon type is nuzzling against him and demanding he pet along it’s head.

-_-_-_-

For a while it’s hard to bring himself to be sad– he’s buried in Pokemon who want his attention. Raihan’s team were always excited to see him, even if he’d just visited them less than a month ago. He likes to come check on them, mostly because he knows how hard it can be for any Pokemon to adjust to sudden change but especially so dragon types. It goes unsaid, of course, that there were other reasons he liked to see them. It always pleased him to see them happy and relaxed.

For a while Leon had been chatting with the Gym Trainers about nothing at all really– at least it was nothing at all to him anymore. Mostly about the league– trying to figure out what to do with the Gym and the adjustments and whether the gym would be capable of returning to the major league or if it should be stepped back while they searched for a new leader.

It’s not hard to tell they miss him. No one has said it, but Leon is perceptive, so they don’t have to. They skirt around outright saying what they know is true– that he’s gone and that it’s been hard to make the adjustment to move on because they’d lost such a force of personality. He knows because he’d seen them mirror his shock and fear and sorrow a year ago. He’d seen them mourning, too.

Now that they’d run out of safe topics to talk about, they’ve lapsed into silence. They just share their spaces on the pitch while they watch the Pokemon mill about. Sandaconda has curled up in Leon’s lap to sleep and Goodra has become a fixture at his side. She’s soaking his coat through with her goo, but Leon doesn’t mind it because she’s coddling him in a way that’s frighteningly similar to the way people do to baby pokemon.

“You should take them with you.”

It was like it all shattered in an instant. Just with those words. Leon’s head jerks upwards in Aria’s direction, blinking slowly as if the statement had confused him. As the realization sinks in, his eyes widen the way a wild pokemon’s might. Aria merely adjusts her glasses on her nose and averts her gaze.

“…You mean Raihan’s pokemon?” Leon lingers on each word. He wants to clarify it even if it’s perfectly obvious what she’s referring to.

“Yes”

“Are they…. Really being that rowdy here?” Leon ventures, meaning for it to sound like a joke. As if to punctuate his discomfort, a nervous laugh slips through his mouth. Sandaconda stirs in his lap because he’s halted his stroking over the Pokemon’s scales.

“That’s not what I… what we mean.” Aria sighs, sounding resigned already. She seems to consider her words carefully before she continues. “We’ve… The Gym Leaders and I have been speaking about it. We’re not trying to just pawn them off on you but… they really do seem to be their happiest when you’re here Cham– Leon.”

Leon would like to keep staring at the grass on the stadium field, but he finds his gaze being drawn up to where Flygon and Charizard are play-fighting with one another. Then to where Duraludon and Gigalith have taken advantage of the warm weather to nap in a patch of sunlight. To where Torkoal and Turtonator are quietly crunching on some snacks just outside of Leon’s direct reach. He can’t say that they look particularly happier than they do any other time he’s seen then, but he supposes he wouldn’t know because he’s only ever seen them in his own presence.

Still… It feels wrong in a way. Those are Raihan’s pokemon. His rival’s pokemon. His stomach twists at the realization that it’s not like he can ask Raihan because he’s not here to say. The idea hurts.

“I shouldn’t.” Leon’s voice is so thin that he doesn’t even recognize it as his own. His throat is tight around this lump that’s forming, and he can feel the pressure at the bridge of his nose that happens right before he’s going to cry. He can’t– not here.

“Why not?” Camilla answers this time. Her tone isn’t condescending or judgemental or goading, just an honest question. Leon doesn’t answer, and so she continues. “You’ve had plenty of experience raising dragon types. They know you well. Just… look at them? Goodra has been sitting with you since you got here and Flygon nearly bowled you over because he was so excited to see you this morning.”

Tight. His throat is so tight it hurts, and ever so slightly Leon’s begun to tremble with the effort to keep his emotions wrapped up within his body.

“It’s not that I don’t think I can. I love them… I’d love to raise them but…” Leon hesitated, not sure what words to use. Speaking about his feelings had never been his strong suit. What is he even trying to say?

That bringing them in means finally having to accept that he’s gone? That there is no more Rival’s team because there was no more Rival. That it feels wrong to take his Pokemon because some deep part of him thinks that he’d never be able to be as good to them as Raihan was because he adored them. That he’d spent years and years watching Raihan with them to know they loved him just as much.

He knows what it means. It means realizing that the Pokemon that he’d watched Raihan raise– some even from eggs– had lost so much a year ago too. They’d lost their guide. They’d lost their best friend just like Leon had. Leon could take them but he didn’t think he’d ever fill those shoes the way that Raihan did.

“I don’t think I’m ready yet. If… I take them in, I want to make sure I can give them the life they deserve.” It’s raw. Entirely too raw the way the words come out, and it feels like something is digging thorns into his chest as he manages to force them out. He leaves ‘the life Raihan would have wanted for them’ out because he knows it doesn’t need to be said. Somehow Leon would have guessed that if anyone could relate to his feelings, it would have been the gym trainers.

They’d been kind enough to give him space the first time he’d come to see Raihan’s team. When he’d cried helplessly and clung to Flygon and Duraludon for an hour while the tar has wormed its way out of his system and the realization sunk in that he was actually gone and that it wasn’t just a bad dream caused by the pain medicine from the hospital. He was sure they knew.

“I’m… planning on moving. I would want to move first, to make sure they have the space they need to run and play. I don’t have that luxury right now in Wyndon. They need exercise. I want to make sure I can take care of them properly and do right by them.”

“But… you’d consider it?”

“Mmm.” Leon hums because he can’t talk anymore without the dam breaking. Leon nods, though, so they know he will, indeed, consider it. There’s more than what he’s said too. So much more. He wants to feel stable. He wants to know that he’s not going to look at Raihan’s team and feel the urge to cry as much as he does now, because he misses him. He wants to make sure they don’t come into a home only to be stressed by Leon’s own baggage. Sandaconda presses it’s snout into the warmth of his hand, and it’s enough to shake loose the somber laugh that’s caught in his throat. “I don’t think I could ever actually add them to my team. I’m pretty sure Raihan would come back and haunt me for stealing his weather strategy.”

They lapse back into silence for a long moment. The quiet is deafening even around the sound of Goodra cooing and the soft crunch of Pokemon eating. Even around the groans of Charizard and the song-like beating of Flygon’s wings and the two wrestle around each other. Leon sighs, and leans back a little more against Goodra.

“Thank you.” Leon’s gaze darted up again toward the others. Aria mumbled it, but the other two nodded their agreement. “It’s been… hard on them being separated among the three of us and… We really do think it’s what he would have wanted for them.”

It’s those words that do it. Leon could swear he feels his frayed emotions snap as he raises a frantic hand to try and stem the flow of tears which are already coming. Goodra, finally picking up on his trembling now that he’s leaned against her more, fusses with him, tucking his body under her neck and letting out a bubbling coo.

Leon’s heart wrenches in his chest and he feels sick at the stressed flipping of his stomach. He hiccups to try and breath around the rock that’s sitting in his throat but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to be able to will the tears away this time so he’s left to feebly wipe at them with the sleeves of his coat. He’s a cup that’s been overfilled, and now that the tension has given out his emotions are leaking out.

“I know.” It’s all that Leon can manage before his throat tightens too much for him to speak.

#ooc || off the clock #Drabbles || Written Histories #queue #Verse || Mourn with the moon and the stars up above

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battletowered · 3 years

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Anniversary

Headcanon Drabble in Leon’s “ more severe darkest day au ” verse which I’m reposting and bringing forward to this blog from the archive for the anniversary.

TW: Deals with mourning and major character death.

Leon shifts, rolling over in bed and throwing his arm over his eyes, the first rays of the sun already coming in through his window and shining on his face. There’s a thump and a pattering sound.

One.... Two…. Three… Four… Fi--

There’s a trill, and the feeling of a body colliding with his own, forcing the air out of his lungs for a moment. Leon feels a muzzle nosing at the arm over his face, trying to wriggle under the weight of his arm for snuggles.

“‘M not awake yet.” he whines, though it seems to have very little effect on the excited pokemon squirming on top of him. He sighs affectionately, giving up on the idea of getting any more sleep this morning, instead prying his eyes open and looking down at the clingy flygon that has come to perch on his chest. Leon doesn’t mind it as much as he probably should. Instead he rubs Flygon’s head while he builds up the energy to get up and be productive this morning.

He’s got a lot on his plate today, after all, it would be naive of him to think that trying to go back to sleep would make that go away. Besides, if Flygon was awake already, that meant that the rest of his pokemon were soon to be up as well. Even Margo peers at him from where she normally slept on the edge of his bed, as if confirming that point. Flygon seemed to punctuate that point by nuzzling at his face more persistently, and Leon laughed drowsily.

“Alright, alright, I’m up!”

-_-_-_-

“No, Goodra, I just finished showering.” Leon ducks a slimy kiss as he works on preparing breakfast for his pokemon. He doesn’t have to cook anything (thank god), but Raihan’s pokemon all had a specialized diet and he couldn’t bring himself to change that for them when they came to live with him.

Goodra bloops at him playfully, and Leon huffs. It was a game they played every morning, where Leon would shower and try to get ready for the day and she’d try to ruin his dress shirt by snuggling him. He ducks through her wet grasp again as he steps around her, and she follows after him, finally taking notice of her breakfast in his hand.

Once he’s managed to get everyone fed, he opens the rear door to his home and takes a seat at his patio with a cup of tea to wake himself up. He’s been living here for a while now-- it had been maybe six or seven months since he’d signed the mortgage for this place-- but he didn’t think he’d ever quite get over how pretty the property was. It may not have been quite Postwick, but it felt like home-- several acres of land that were open until they met the forested tree line or the corral fencing he’d spent his first weekend here putting up.

It wasn’t quite Postwick, but it was close, at least. Plus, he was just outside of Wedgehurst, he really was closer to home than he’d ever been. It might have meant commuting to get to work, but it was worth it if for nothing else than the sense of peace it gave him.

Well. Most days. Today he can’t quite shake the little pit of dread that’s sitting in his stomach.

There’s a sleepy bleat, and he turns his head in time to see Lanolin. She bleats again, drowsily, and then bumps her head against his, giving him an expectant look. She seems to know that something’s bothering him, and tries to nip at his hair repeatedly until Leon laughs at her insistence. She seems pleased to have gotten whatever result she wanted, and then went bounding off into the yard to graze.

One thing is for certain, he’s never lonely here. Not the way he had been in Wyndon. His home is always full-- with pokemon and friends and family. It had been entirely overwhelming at first, but overwhelming in the best way possible. A reminder of how loved he was, and he was grateful.

At this time normally, he’d already be at the Battle Tower, leaving at the crack of dawn to be on time, but on Amelia’s request, he’d taken the day off. The importance of the date hadn’t been lost on her, he’d noted, but she didn’t force him to talk about it, and he appreciated it.

Things were starting to feel a little more okay, but that didn’t make it any easier to talk about. He was adjusting, he guessed. Or, at least he was adjusting better than he had been before, because his chest didn’t clench painfully every time that he thought about it, now. It was hard to avoid dealing with those feelings when every morning Raihan’s pokemon lived and worked alongside him.

Leon is too lost in thought to react fast enough when a pair of wet limbs encircle his shoulders, and he shudders as he feels a wet plop against the crown of his head and a contented blurble.

Goodra wins.

-_-_-_-

A fresh change of clothes later, and Leon is finally ready to leave the house. He glances out over the yard again, where most of his extended family of Pokemon have gathered and are now sunbathing or playing. He watches Duraludon and Aegislash play-fight for a moment until Margo nudges him and chuffs.

He pats her cheek, but stares resolutely out the window. Now that it’s come to actually leaving… he’s dragging his feet. Margo seems to be able to tell, and she nudges him and chuffs again, harder this time. He sighs, but nods, finally.

“Alright, come on girl. It’s going to be a long ride. You ready?” She watches him for a moment, like she’s trying to figure something out, and then shakes out her shoulders and spreads her wings so that he can climb on her back. Leon has no idea what that was about.

-_-_-_-

It’s surprising how quiet it is. He guesses it’s because, despite showing up later than he did the year before, he’s still pretty early in the morning. There’s already bouquets and balloons, but no people that he can see, and he kind of appreciates it. The gravestone has been cleaned recently, and the two cypress trees which stand next to it have gotten taller-- they’re already taller than he is.

He tries not to think too hard about that. It reminds him it’s been two years.

Instead, he sits, and stays for a while. Margo didn’t want to go into her ball, but since she’s not bothering anyone, he doesn’t mind. He lays against her side, tucked under her wing. The sound of pidove cooing and the distant hubbub of Hammerlocke city are almost soothing, and it fills the silence that Leon isn’t sure how to fill himself. At least this year he has enough of a handle on himself that he can bear to actually spend some time at his best friend’s grave.

He spends an hour and a half. Some people drop by, though most are Raihan’s family coming to pay respects of their own. He trades condolences with some and shares fond memories with others. It’s nice.

Before he leaves, Leon remembers that he’s brought something of his own as a gift. He pulls a photograph out of his coat’s pocket, protected by a waterproof acrylic frame. Leon pushes the peg down into the ground next to the stone, and then steps back to appraise the photo. He hopes Raihan would be happy to see it. It’s just a photograph of Leon in his yard, the day that Raihan’s pokemon came to live with him permanently. They look happy. Leon has a lot more that he would have liked to have brought, but he figures the grave keepers wouldn’t appreciate having to step around two dozen acrylic photograph holders when they did their rounds. It’s a shame, the picture of Goodra hugging him hard enough to lift him off the ground that Hop too was really cute. Maybe he can bring that one another time.

Margo pulls him close to her body as they turn to the exit of the graveyard, tucking him underneath a wing in a way that she hasn’t done since he was young. Leon lets her fuss, because he knows she’s only doing it because she’s worried.

Leon doesn’t feel as bad as he expected to. Maybe because every time he comes here it reminds him how loved Raihan was, and still is, loved. He likes to think that wherever Raihan is now that he knows that.

-_-_-_-

It isn’t until the flight home that the grief hits him, and when it does, it hits him so hard that he’s suddenly choking around the thickness in the throat and struggling to see as tears cloud his vision.

Margo senses his distress and brings the both of them down to rest on the ground. They’re halfway home-- she lands in the first clearing she can find and sends several bug pokemon scrambling for the brush in panic when she does. She bellows over her shoulder in concern. Leon’s grip fails him as she shifts to stand a little taller, and he falls into a heap onto the ground, shaking because he feels like he’s not able to get enough air into his lungs.

He doesn’t know what’s set it off, but he’s so suddenly overwhelmed with the thought that he was gone and Leon had never made the time to make sure he knew how much he mattered to him. He wishes he could still tell him, but now all he can do is leave gifts as a grave and hope that somehow his message reaches him. He feels sick, his head is pounding like it’s too full and he feels like his ribs are squeezing in on him.

Margo has to drag him up off the ground, and she wraps her wings around him the way she might for one of her clutches of charmanders and rumbles deep in her chest.

-_-_-_-

Leon doesn’t make it home until nearly 6pm. After spending 45 minutes crying, Margo had dragged him to one of his favorite bakeries in Wyndon, apparently having realized herself that whenever Leon was feeling down he buried his feelings with sugar. He’s exhausted, and the first thing he did when he arrived home was slump down on his couch.

He’s awake for all of five minutes before he falls asleep right there, on his own couch.

When he reawakens, it’s nearly 9 pm and he finds himself surrounded by pokemon. Margo has her snout nuzzled against his hand which has slumped off the edge of the couch, and Flygon has perched on his stomach, curled up like a sleeping purrloin.

Maybe he’s not okay as he should be, but he’s starting to get there.

#ic || standing on top of the world #Verse || Mourn with the moon and the stars up above #queue;;#Drabbles || Written Histories #tw: character death #tw: major character death #tw: character death mention #major character death #character death #character death mention #||this has not been edited or betad so sorry if its rough||#||Happy anniversary its time for p a i n||

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