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#she's downplaying my concerns and i had to practically beg just to be referred for an ultrasound
leofrith · 1 year
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novel concept here, perhaps, but i think it would be super nice if the medical community in general started giving a shit about menstrual and other reproductive related pain beyond whether it affects someone's fertility or not. like someone please tell me why the only time my reproductive pain is taken seriously is when it relates to my ability to make a fucking baby, something i have absolutely zero interest in doing. why isn't the fact that i'm in pain reason enough to investigate further. why do i keep being recommended various forms of birth control as a blanket solution for my symptoms that nobody seems to care enough about to even attempt to investigate further. why does every concern i have about my pain get downplayed and swept aside in favour of reassurances about my fertility that i didn't ask for. why have i been running around in circles for more than ten years begging for someone to care enough about my pain to listen to me and do something about it. why.
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I read an article the other day about how bad human trafficking is in Hawaii.  So I found myself inspired to write a Team Skull drabble?  Kinda?  I wrote a thing.  You can read it if you wanna.  There was no planning or drafting anything regarding this, so.  Be warned I guess.
Obvious warnings for human trafficking, child prostitution, kidnapping, references to abuse, threats towards family, references to sexual abuse. . .y’know, the kind of things that would come from sex trafficking.
Also warning for really bad mixing pidgin with usual slang.  And I’m not very good at writing either, so mixing them together just makes a mess.
“She seems pretty upset about this.”  The smaller of a pair of grunts said of their captive with clear concern in his voice.  The larger of the two, carrying the essentially kidnapped girl over his shoulder, glanced at her as she screamed and sobbed in distress, although they were too far off of Route 10 for anyone to come investigate too much.  “She wasn’t nearly as upset a few streets back, y’know. . .?”
“Barely even noticed.” His companion grunted sarcastically as the walls of Po Town came more into view through the trees. The girl was saying something, begging to be released, probably, but he continued to be indifferent and not acknowledge her fussing.  The grunt joining him stayed looking worried at her, but they both continued to make their way home.  It was just business.
The screaming turned to a frightened quiet as they passed through the gate and were finally in Po Town proper.  Team Skull territory no one ever came out of alive, unless they were members of Team Skull themselves.  Her crying continued, but she was exhausted--and by now out of hope, coughing and sniffling and keeping her gaze down despite passing many other Skull Grunts.  Even the female grunts probably wouldn’t help her, and she could feel their pitying gazes--as well as some of delight.  How many people were in this town?  And how many of them were going to use her?
“‘ey, J!”  One of the grunts called as they ducked into a building a ways up the main street, nudging the door shut behind with a booted foot.  “We got anotha’ one!”
Another one?  She didn’t know the extent of what Team Skull did--just that they were the biggest and worst gang on the islands, and what they did was often downplayed to keep citizens too scared.  On the surface they may have just been seen as pests and troublemakers and petty criminals, but they practically ruled the underground in this region.  Did they take others, too?  Were they just going to repurpose her, take her from the work she was forced to do and force her into more?
She whimpered--her current pimp already treated her poorly--but at least he let her go home at the end of the day, even if she kept where she was and what she was doing a secret from her family.  They just knew she brought some money home, and there was nothing wrong with a girl her age helping the family.  But the boss of Team Skull was not known for his kindness, under or above ground.
And with her missing, he would surely punish her family--her mother, her father, her grandmother and little brother. . .would they all be forced into this hell? Would they be killed?  And she would never see them again, either--once one went into Team Skull’s territory, one didn’t leave, and if they were prostituting taken girls like her, they surely wouldn’t be as considerate about it.
She continued to sob, more vocally again this time.  Face stinging and burning red, breath barely caught at all, eyes red and full of tears she was surprised she still had any of, and her face a sticky mess from he mucus flowing down her face, she shut her eyes anxiously as she was plonked unceremoniously into a chair in the musty-smelling little building.
“Fuckin’ Tapu, Cage!”  A new grunt’s voice snapped, followed by footsteps approaching her.  “What’d I tell you about treatin’ people like this, man!?  We seriously gotta talk to someone about getting you back on your damn meds, you can’t keep going out on jobs like this with zero empathy, my dude!”
The grunt called Cage simply scoffed.  “I’m just doing my job. She’s here, isn’t she? She’ll shape up eventually.  I don’t see why it’s a problem.”
“I’d’ve told him not to carry her or something," the other grunt accompanying Cage began, scuffing his sneaker against the carpet, “but I figured she’d run off without listening to a word we said or something.  My fault, J.”
“Nah.  Ain’t your fault he got taken off his shit.”  ‘J’ sighed, his voice drawing nearer to the girl--vertically, now, as he knelt in front of her.
“We’re done already.”  Cage dropped stoically, turning to exit.  “We gotta do our task report and let the boss know we back.  C’mon, Jij’.”
‘Jij’’ sighed another apology and left some kind of well wished towards J--and her, as well?  It didn’t sound mocking, but he’d sounded rather down the whole trip.  Maybe he was reluctant, as opposed to his partner.  Nonetheless, Jij’ and Cage left the building, presumably leaving her alone with J, who grumbled something she couldn’t quite make out.
“Sorry ‘bout him, girlie.”  He said after gathering himself.  “He been off his stuff like two weeks.  In a couple days, meds or not, he’ll probably be scramblin’ to apologize to you.  Just kinda how his brain works when he ain’t got somethin to stabilize it.  He shouldn’t’a treated you like that--you deserve better, y’know?
“I’mma touch ya face real quick--just’a clean you up.”  A package of some sort sounded like it was being waved.  “If ya don’t trust me, I got what I’m using all wrapped up still, so you can see it’s fresh out the bag if you wanna look.  ‘Understand if you don’t, though.”
Why not.  She might as well know the faces of her captors--her vision was blurry nonetheless as she opened her eyes, reaching a rain-dampened hand up to rub at them.  When it was a bit more clear, a tanned boy with braided white hair became more visible knelt in front of her, and then gave her a smile.  “Yo.  Name’s Jace!  You can just call me J, though--everyone does.  You got a name I could call you?”
He held up the still closed package of what appeared to be some baby wipes in his gloved hands.  “Like I said, gonna clean ya face up a bit--you can do i yourself if you wanna.”
She shook her head.  Best to be as cooperative as possible, right?  If it was covered in chloroform or something, it’d knock her out and maybe she’d be able to stay unconscious while she suffered. “Aight.  Try stay still, yeah?”
He pulled the little travel-sized package open and pulled out a wipe, resting the holder on his knees, then began to wipe at her eyes carefully, clearing her cheeks of burning tear trails and cooling her down a little bit, if only physically.  Her nose came next, and she felt a positive memory at the sensation and the smell, which made her hiccup.  Her stress kept her from smiling as he pinched her nose in the cleaning process, reminding her of runny noses when she was just a little kid, although being cleaned up did feel better.  “There.  A little better.”
She began to say thank you, but only managed to whimper more, tensing up and closing in on herself.
Jace laughed nervously, tossing aside the wipe he’d used, and offering the package to her, which she took hesitantly and rest on her lap.  “You want I should give you some time to calm down?  You want some water?”  He scooted over to get a bottle from the fridge, a fully closed and unopened one, which she took and opened, sipping from as best as she could through her shaking.  “I should prolly tell you what’s going on--I bet Cage and Jij’ didn’t tell ya anything. . . .”
She figured she already knew, but what was she supposed to do?  Tell him not to talk?  Her silence didn’t seem to bother him so far, so she simply tried to keep her mouth busy with drinking--and hopefully he wouldn’t try and ‘busy’ it with anything else.
"So, Cage and Jij’, they picked you up to take you away and all, but we’re not here to hurt you or nothin’!  They--they prolly gave you money and, uh, that’s yours to keep.  We’re not gonna, y’know, try and bang you or anything--not unless you’re into that or whatever.”
She yelped and Jace jumped when the door was knocked on and then opened, a darker skinned individual with wavy, dark green hair down to their shoulders entering with a dark-eyed gaze falling on the pair.  But his expression was soft and warm--welcoming, almost, and his voice was also clear and comfortable.  “Master Guzma’s arrived to speak with you."
If the abnormal title wasn’t apparent enough, the name drop made it clear to her, and she began to lock up and hyperventilate.  Guzma.  That was the boss of this whole gang.  Feared and hated and proudly proclaimed it wherever he went, she’d never seen what he looked like, only heard terrifying things.  Only been told to avoid Skull Grunts by everyone from parents to teachers to neighbors all the way down to her pimp.  And if she was supposed to stay away from the grunts. . . .
No matter what Jace had said, she had no reason not to believe Guzma was bad--let alone that he was prone to violence, given the scars and cuts across his fists.  Just as Guzma supposedly was known for declaring himself, the man was big--at least six foot six, and that was with terrible posture, and his frame was sufficiently large to match.  As he stepped in, she was sure the ground shook.  The look on his face and in his eyes was. . .mean.  Frightening.
When his gaze fell on her as he stepped in and the one who’d proceeded him slid the door shut, successfully sealing her to her fate,
She began to panic.  The tears came back in full force and her breathing came in shallow bursts.  And that her immediate alarm didn’t seem to draw any sympathy from him, just drew a ‘tch!’ out of him, only affirmed in her mind that he was here to show her just what Jace meant by that they wouldn’t hurt her.  Her eyes closed shut tightly and she began to cry aloud again, her voice drawn out by her rearisen fears.
“She been like that since she got here?”  Guzma asked, voice gruff and deep.  She missed his vague gesturing towards her, which prompted his accompaniment to approach, pulling out a Pokéball and releasing a Lucario adorned with a Team Skull Grunt’s bandana around its neck.
“Uuuh, kinda, Boss.”  Jace said, reaching over to wipe her face again.  “She calmed down a bit, but she hasn’t said much.”
The most she’d said since she’d arrived from the gates was now, where she was begging, pleading messily, in fact.  The Lucario prodded at her mind and she was surprised to find that her fear had lowered her walls significantly--she screamed some in confusion at the intrusion to her psyche, but simply returned to crying, finding that she wasn’t in any pain.
‘Miss?’  The Lucario projected to her telepathically.  She began sending her waves of aura--calming ones, to gradually relax her.  ‘I understand you’re afraid, Miss.  But as Jace said, we aren’t here to hurt you.’
She grabbed onto her head, though she didn’t know how to push her out--and with the calming aura moving through her, she found that she didn’t want to as much.  She opened her blurry eyes to look at the Lucario, still shaking.  But the Pokémon was reassuring for her.  She didn’t seem harmed in any way despite her surroundings and the people she lived with, and as Jace wiped her eyes again, she became more visible.  The Lucario was smiling softly.  ‘My name is Kikite.  This is my trainer--Loch.’
She gestured gently back to the rather androgynous green-haired man behind her, who gave her a soft nod, but didn’t speak.  Guzma talked to Jace in the meantime, but Kikite kept the girl’s mental focus on them and the sound of the rain outside.
‘You’re safe here. We’re here to help you.  I promise.’  Perhaps it was more aura waves forcing her mind to change, but. . .she believed the Lucario.  She gently ducked her head and pressed her wet nose to the girl’s hand, making her gasp from the sensation, then gently begin to pet her fur to soothe herself.  ‘Mister Guzma has a few questions for you.  But he is not here to hurt you.  You have no reason to trust us, I know, but. . .if you want to leave, we’ll allow you to.  But we’ve brought you here for your wellbeing.  Please hear him out.’
She nodded finally, mimicking Kikite’s soft, even breathing.  She stayed shaking, the fear and anxiety was still in her deeply, but it was easier to stay calm with the Aura Pokémon’s help.
“She good now, Loch?”
Kikite sent a wave of affirmation to Loch, who nodded, bowing deeply towards the Skull Boss.  “Yes, Master Guzma. Her mind may still be in a delicate place, so I advise that Master Guzma, perhaps, speaks to her somewhat carefully, if possible.”
The girl tensed up again as Guzma approached, popping into a squat, balanced on his toes as always.  His expression remained rather grim and frightful, but Kikite’s soft paw rest against her arm reassuringly.  He seemed angry. .. but not at her.
“Hey, shawty.”  He began, tone a little dialed down.
“Ah. . . .”  She swallowed hard, looking back to Jace for reassurance as well, and keeping her gaze on the most familiar of the group present thus far.  “Alo. . .la. . . .”
“Oh, thank Koko, she can talk.”  Jace said with legitimate relief and an attempt at humor.  She didn’t seem to find it as amusing, though Guzma let out an amused little huff and Loch’s smile took on an amused quirk as well.
“You got a name we can call ya?  Jace said y’didn’t give ‘im one.”
“K--K--K--Kala.”
“Nice’a meet’cha, Kala.”  He gave her a smirk, somehow friendly.  Loch, Kikite, and Jace also expressed their greetings, Loch adding ‘welcome to Po Town.’
Was she really trapped here. . .?
“The guy who keepin’ ya.  He threatenin’ ya fam, yeah?”  Kala nodded stiffly.  “You wanna tell me where they at?”
Her anxiety spiked again and she struggled to reply.  “Uh, she--I don’t think she really knows what’s goin’ on, Boss.”
“Why didn’t you numbskulls tell ‘er, then!?”  He snapped, prompting Kala to grip Kikite’s fur at his volume and the clenching of his fist, arm muscles flexing. He was gonna hit him.  He was gonna hit her, he--  “Shit.  A’ight.  Listen up, kid.
“The shit you goin’ through?  It ain’t right.  Team Skull ain’t about that shit.  Ain’t nobody deserve they body bein’ used against they will or no shit, not like that.”  He was clearly trying not to snarl, to snap.  “You scared to tell us who was shippin’ you ‘round that way? Fine.  All good.  If can, can, if no can, no can, yeah?”
She nodded at the little pidgin expression. It was strangely soothing to hear the local tongue, rather than the rough Unovan standard structure a lot of the Grunts seemed to use.
“You brought here so you ain’t gotta do that shit anymore.  Not if you don’t wanna.  You do, we got’chu.  But we ain’t about that shit if you ain’t about it.  And we ain’t about some scummy motherfucker threatenin’ ya fam and shit to keep you makin’ ‘em money. So we gonna take care them, too.  You just gotta tell me where they stay at and Team Skull look after ‘em.  You can stay here, lay low ‘til we get his head, or we can send you home with some grunts lookin’ after you, keep you from gettin’ snatched again.”
She swallowed and nodded, parting her lips to speak, then closing her mouth nervously.  This repeated several times, before finally squeaking out, “and I. . .I won’t have to work anymore. . .?”
“Nah.  If you no stay innit, ya don’t.”
“Really. . .?”
Guzma grinned--it was still a rather nerve-wracking expression, but he seemed. . .sincere still.  What reason would a man with Guzma’s power have to lie?  “Errybody stay misrepresent Team Skull, but we don’t hate Alola, not all’a us.  Nah, Alola’s home--that’s why we want it should change, get better.  Stay same for our people.  And when we ain’t get help, we gotta fight back--but when others no get help, we stay fight for ‘em.  We here for protec’ the ones Alola no protect.  We got’chu.”
Of course, Kala had heard that Team Skull was composed heavily of trial failures and societal failures as a whole, people the islands practically rejected.  They were outcasts, and that was considered bad, but. . .was it really that bad to support each other? Wasn’t that the true Alola spirit?
Were Team Skull the good guys all along, in some capacity. . .?
“We. . .we live in KoniKoni City.”  She wanted her family to be safe.  They were in trouble either way, if Guzma was lying.  She’d be away from her pimp, who would seek out her family to hurt them--but if Team Skull went to see them, if they weren’t truly going to protect them, it’d be just as bad.  But the chance that they could be safe. . . .  “Ha-Hale Ipukukui Apartments, a block away from the lighthouse.  Eighth floor, apartment 804 where we stay.  I. . .I know it’s far--”
“Team Skull all over, Keiki.”  Guzma groaned, rising to his full height and putting his hands in his pockets.  One hand came back out, his phone held in it.  “Won’t be no trouble.  You feel like tellin’ me where ya guy is, or we gonna have to wait for him send his flunkies round your place first?”
Kala again opened her mouth like she wanted to speak, but flinched, recoiled, and returned to petting Kikite, who stroked her arm in return.  “Yeah.  Thought so.  You ain’t the first here--I know for say so is scary, but you ain’t in no trouble while you here. You ever get comfortable enough for say so, lemme know."
He rose his phone to his head after prodding at it some.  “Jace, if you could get her settled in, I’d ‘ppreciate that--yo.”
“You got it, Boss.”  Guzma gave a nod in acknowledgement, seeming to be busy with the phone call now.
“You stay on Akala with them?”  A pause.  “Yeah, we good.  Some’a your patrol say they bringing a girl home, yeah?  Her fam’s in KoniKoni, at Hale Ipukukui Apartment--804.  Can you send a squad out there to keep an eye on ‘em, ‘case her guy comes lookin’?  Couple grunts live that place, maybe them.”
This was really happening.  Her family would be safe.  She might even be safe.  Although a concern nagged at her.  “Thanks, P.  See you when you get home.”
He hung up and turned his back, fisting his hands but trying not to crush his phone--good thing they made these things pretty durable.  “Loch.”
“Yes, Master.”
“We stay go.  Jace got this.”
“Yes, Master.”
“W-wait--please--"
Kikite looked up at her, intent on staying by her side, having had requested such of Loch in her usual telepathic way, as not to interrupt their boss.  Loch and Guzma paused on their exit, Guzma looking over his shoulder, and Loch only stopping when he reached the door in order to open it for Guzma.
“I. . .th-the money I got--from working--some of it. . .I could keep it--a-and it helped my family out, bu-ut if I can’t work--”
“If you’d like, there are businesses under Team Skull’s control throughout the islands.”  Loch chimed in, that same smile on his face.  It met his eyes more than it did before, perhaps a sign of approval.  “Assuming, of course, you’d rather not participate in criminal affairs, it can be arranged that you work a civilian job during your stay in Po Town.  If you would like your pay directed towards your family, that can also be arranged.”
“Yeah, Loch’s got’cha.”  Guzma gave a nod.  “But you get settled in here first.  Ya look like you’d pass out if we weren’t talkin’ to ya.”
“Po Town’s pretty big.”  Jace said as Guzma and Loch finally took their leave.  “It used to be some resort town or somethin’--the kinda place you’d find haoles up the ass.  The boss went all hostile takeover on it years ago, and now it’s ours.  It’s kinda run-down, but.  Havin’ a place for ourselves is good, and we try and keep it livable.”
Jace allowed her to hang out in the building for the time being, allowing her to rest on a worn and comfy couch in the room.  He said that this was the first place they took her because he usually got ex-abductees settled in--Kala could see why, since he was fairly relaxed and disarming, even a little nervous.  But she was welcome to choose a room anywhere in the big mansion up the street, or even stay in one of the other buildings or houses in town, whether with other grunts or not--oftentimes, the people they pulled from trafficking preferred to stick together.  Safety in numbers was something Team Skull understood very well, and when she’d caught up on rest she could even meet other members of the gang living about the town.
Much like Guzma said, the second she’d collapsed on the couch, she was out like a light, Kikite draping a blanket over her and settling in next to the couch to keep her company.
She had slept the past couple of months with anxiety and fear in her heart.  What was doing the same thing in another place?  She was relieved to find that her mind was still calmed by the Lucario, even allowing her to stand in the face of her nightmares and fight back.  In her sleep, she lost, but it was still a turn around.
When she’d wake to her mother’s frantic calling on her phone, relief washed over her as she anxiously confirmed that Team Skull was in their apartment, and she confirmed that she was in Po Town--and what the Team Skull Admin, Plumeria, the woman Guzma must have been speaking to over the phone, revealed to them about what she’d been hiding in her daily life.  Her mother would accept no apologies--it wasn’t her fault.  More than anything, she was happy she was safe.
The call had to be cut short at the guarding grunts’ instructions--that Kala hadn’t returned to him that evening must have tipped her pimp off to an issue.  He’d probably sent some people to her home to look for her, and she hoped to the Tapu that Team Skull would truly keep her family safe after the call ended.
Months passed.  And she became quite comfortable living among Team Skull.  Their name had been so stressed as something awful that she had barely considered that the members may have simply been. . .people.  People who wanted to live and survive and be happy, just like her and her family and anybody else.
In those months she made friends.  She worked and she went home now and then to see her family.  Eventually they moved elsewhere in KoniKoni, somewhere Team Skull could keep them a bit safer, and her brother even reached the age where he could go on the island challenge, setting out with Team Skull protecting him secretly, despite their distaste for the tradition.
In those months, she finally pulled Plumeria aside and, after struggling, she simply said,
“Scorp.”
She didn’t need to hear anything more, nodded, thanked her, and went off to talk to Guzma.
It was a week or so later before the results of her reveal had any visibility.  It hadn’t been the first time this had happened, but a grunt whistled loudly to get her attention, calling out “catch!” before throwing something towards her.  She caught it clumsily--a wallet, full of cash and cards--
And she dropped it when her eyes fell over the ID of the man who was once her pimp.
She pulled herself together after a brief panic, taking several minutes to breathe calmly.  The grunt hadn’t meant anything by doing so.  It was just a careless mistake.  And it was just a picture.  It wasn’t him.  He couldn’t get her here.
When she picked it up again, she stared, uncertain what to do with it, before “Yo, we back!” rang out through the mansion, Guzma’s voice drawing everyone’s attention to the foyer, leading several, Kala included, to make their way over.
She believed the gift from the grunt earlier had simply been a. . .well-timed pickpocketing of some sort.
But when she peeked into the fouyer, she gasped at the group entering. She’d never get used to the sight of blood, she was certain, and Guzma would never not be terrifyingly intimidating, least of all when covered in a spray of the stuff, a similarly bloodied metal bat leant over his shoulder and a grin on his face.
But the biggest surprise was the. . .nine, Kala counted, nine other girls, some young, too young, that were accompanying the returning members of Team Skull, some shaken up, a couple staying strong and tense and alert, and some seeming barely there at all, not even jarred by Guzma’s cries.
All of them girls that Kala knew.
All of them girls who had been prostituted at Scorp’s instruction.
She stumbled out towards them as Guzma boasted about the mission they went on, drawing cheers and whoops from the grunts even as Guzma carelessly whipped his bat around in a display of how he used it, fortunately not nailing anybody in the process.  Kala could vaguely hear him saying something about making a kill real personal, using his fists rather than the weapon he was now leaning against, the Team cheering that that was just the kind of thing Guzma would have done.
“Kala?”  She started shaking, a soft voice she’d come to know so well and not heard in so long pushing her beyond her limit of hidden emotions.  One of the girls pushed through any grunts between them, limping over, then running despite how much it hurt.  “Kala!  Oh, thank Arceus--Kala, you’re okay!!!”
Her mind was together enough to return the tight embrace, her eyes welling up with tears.  The others also joined them, chettering excitedly and blurring together noisily.
Team Skull had saved her friends.
“Nohea. . . .”  She croaked through her tears, the dyed-blue holding her out at arms length, looking her over.
“Baby, you’re--Arceus, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without bruises before!”  Nohea snapped her back into a hug, rubbing their cheeks together.  “Not--not without makeup--you’re okay--you’re so okay, oh my god. . . .”
“Is this where you’ve been. . .?”  Another, one of the younger ones, a girl who;d been kidnapped all the way from Sinnoh asked, looking up at her with wide brown eyes.  “We were so scared--Scorp was--he was so angry and--”
“Don’t even say his name anymore.”  An older one chided, biting her thumb.
“He’s--he’s--”
“I mean. . . .”  Nohea glanced back to Guzma, where he’d paused his raving to look over to them, instictively snapping her head back towards Kala.
“He’s good.  Mister Guzma is--he’s been keeping me safe--all of them have--a-and my family, and he--”
“Team Skull was taking care of you?  And you’re okay!?”
“I mean, they kind of saved us, y’know?  We kinda owe ‘em, good or bad.”  Nohea grit her teeth, relaxing as she looked Kala over again, sighing.  “He. . .he killed Scorp, I think.  I mean, he sounded dead as hell.”
“I’d show you his head, but leavin’ evidence ain’t good for nobody.”  Guzma added.  “But he’s real dead.  Ain’t gotta worry about him or any his dudes no more.”
“. . .Thank you.”  The older woman said.
“Thank you, Guzma. . .!  I--I”
“I told you I’d get ‘im, didn’t I?  Like I said, ain’t no one deserve that kinda treatment.  Ain’t gonna happen on my islands if I got any say.  You good?”
Kala was stuck between staying where she was with Nohea and running at Guzma to hug him in thanks.  She decided on gripping Nohea tighter instead, nodding.
“Gucci.”  Guzma nodded, stretching, cracking his back and heading for the stairs.
“No, we are not good!”  Nohea snapped, holding Kala closer to her.  “I mean, were--we’re awesome, but--!  What’re we supposed to do now!?  Some of us--we don’t all got places to go back too--”
“You can stick around, then, if you wanna.”  Guzma said dismissively.  He tossed a grin over his shoulder.  “We wen take care Kala, yeah?  We take care you, if you wanna stay.  Ain’t gotta, but it’s an option.”
Kala nodded, already acclimated to life here, but the others weren’t so certain.  “It’s--Po Town--Team Skull--they’re all nothing like I thought--well, not nothing, y-you did see them kill some people, but. . . .”
“Give it some thought.  Jace, help ‘em get they shit together.”  Guzma said, heading up the stairs.  “Loch! I want cocoa!!”
“Right away, Master Guzma!”
Kala held Nohea closer and looked over her friends, some of the grunts following Guzma upstairs, wanting the rest of the story, some off to make mission reports or clean up, heal their Pokémon, the group dispersing for the most part(and Loch briefly heading towards the kitchen with a wave to make the Skull Boss Tapu Cocoa.) Nohea and some of the others watched them as well, expressions mixed. Among the remaining were some previous trafficking victims who had simply joined the gang, as well as Jace, all of whom Kala introduced.
“You can trust them.”  She promised.  “Team Skull can get rough and. . .terrifying, sometimes.  But. . .I was thinking of maybe sticking around.  I-I understand if you don’t want to, too!  But. . .they’ve taken good care of me so far.”
Nohea looked around among the group that had been Scorp’s prostitutes.  They were all tired.  The reality of the situation was crashing onto them.  Freedom, anxiety, trauma at what they’d seen and heard piling onto the traumas they already had from the trafficking, terror. . .Kala couldn’t parse together all the emotions there.
“You can sleep on it.”  Jace added, hands up as if showing he was harmless.  “You’ll have time to decide what to do.  Nobody’s forcing your hand, y’know?  Give it some thought.”
“You could come see my house!”  Kala cheered.  “Oh, but there’s not enough places for everyone to sleep in there--there are rooms in here that’re just for sleeping in!  And--and the beds aren’t bad, and the grunts are all usually pretty nice--and then you can stay for lunch, too!  It’s way easier to think on a full stomach--”
“Okay, okay!”  Nohea laughed--she laughed, she herself couldn’t remember the last time she had.  “If I trust anybody here, it’s gonna be you.  So. . .if you say it’s all okay, we can at least rest up for a while. . .I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go. . . .”
“A shower sounds lovely, if we may. . .?”
“Oh, of course!  And we can get you some clean clothes, too.”  Jace confirmed with a nod.
“You look like you could be my size, so you can borrow some of mine!”
“Personally, I’m starved.”
“I could take you to the kitchen!  No need to wait for lunch to eat!”
“I dunno if I’ll. . .be able to sleep in here.”
“You could at least lie down. . . .”
“We’re watching Finding Nemo!”  Some grunts called over from a collection of couches by a TV.  “You could join us!”
Kala beamed--they were already beginning to separate and make friends, staying in groups mostly to look after each other. . .they’d love it here, she was so certain.  Chirping ‘come on,’ she pulled Nohea with her somewhere they could take a long rest--and maybe figure out what to do with the money Team Skull had stolen for her.
Plumeria smiled and shrugged from the top of the stairs.
Team Skull took all kinds.
And no matter what choice they made, they’d at least find themselves as new allies to the gang--and the more the merrier, truthfully.  It only took one voice to change a group of them--and one life at a time, they’d fix Alola and make their own family.
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