Costello sat outside in a chair. They put him somewhere in Mint’s garden, as the giant bronze sculpture sat between him and the light. Rest and relaxation were what the Chansey said he needed, for as much as he trusted them. By now he should’ve called one of those nursing assistants to help move his chair as a part of his “photosynthesis therapy.”  

You were injured. You can stand. You can fight. What is next?

The Marble Statue depicted a giant shelled creature with what seemed to be a forest on its back. Mint’s statue. Mint’s garden. It was a nice statue, if a bit clumsy. Though he had no art to speak of, he found the depiction of the Torterra to be a bit lacking in details when it came to details on the arm.

You were supposed to go with them. The Braviary asked-

While the depiction of the tree wasn’t the best, the pose still lent itself to capturing the energy of a person infatuated with the nature around them. The chips on the side and the dulling of the metal were natural but there was certainly care taken to make retain the shape it once had. A pressure washing sure but to maintain its cleanliness and its part in the wild. The vines that snaked their way around the body seemed to be a purposeful choice. Masterful. It was always masterful how someone could make their lives mean something like that through all the failure. Failure was natural, right? Yet looking at the statue with all its flaws was just rubbing it in his. impressive in the grand scheme of things.

He spared your feelings. Why is that?

Around the first few days he was stuck in the infirmary, Braviary finally took it upon himself to visit. Though with Liam absent, another strange pang hit him in some unfamiliar corner of his…

It didn’t matter. Braviary’s face was related to checking up on his health, it wasn’t the sole reason for it. A bird his size didn’t stand at the bedside of some novice just for the chat. Seeing someone like him sitting by his bedside made him painfully aware of that.

There were a lot of thoughts going through the head of Soren. How was the kid still rational after the whole burn shoulder thing and going through a tree, why didn’t he run fighting the fire types, what was he supposed to do if they weren't satisfied with just knocking him out. A lot of thoughts, but he had to settle on one. Enter soft, don’t scare him off, and get the lesson. 

A clearing of his throat. “First of all, are you ok?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good. We were worried about you, especially when you got adamant about not getting taken directly to the doctor. It isn’t good for you to be so stubborn so young. You know you can ask for help when you need it.” 

Silence greeted him. For once the eyes were down.

Soren couldn’t stop because of it. It was just like any other lecture. “My point is that you boys should’ve run when trouble first started. Though I can’t blame you since you were ambushed first. In the future, once you get out of there, you run. ”

As the eagle eye focused down on him, there was no bodily response from Costello.  

“I’ve already discussed this with Liam but when it comes to actions like that, you need to better examine the field and know when to run. I know that you’re trying your best to be a part of the Guild but you can’t let winning consume you. Fighting till your last isn’t always the only way to win. ”

“Yes sir.”

“Floe could take care of themself. But what happens when Sera gets burnt to a crisp or you get hurt even worse than you are now? We’re only fortunate that you were able to get here okay. “

“Yes sir.” 

The ‘Yes Sirs.” Always with these as he finally tuned him out. Soren knew he had to stand a bit straighter to drive the point home. “Have you been listening to what I’ve said?”

“Don’t rush into scenarios and take other teammates and their weaknesses into consideration. I allowed myself to only view fighting as my only way to win and I got myself and others hurt due to my irresponsibility. While the only serious injury was to myself, I cannot take the risk of letting my teammates get injured because of my actions. The luck that let me be here in the shape I am now was not something that was common. It won’t happen again.”

Soren looked down at the lizard. Literally, as he had literal feet on him. Usually, the kid would keep and maintain eye contact as though the subject of his interest had to be cataloged one by one into his memory. There was always some kind of purpose to his words at least. His own unique charm to it Liam, at least had a little backtalk left in him, but this was… 

Who did this to him?

A wing was put over the young lizard. “I’m not saying you didn’t do well. You were outnumbered severely and you still pulled through. Your plan on getting out of there and trying to keep them away was perfect for someone so new. You made the right choice under the circumstances, but I want you to make an even better one next time. One that doesn’t get Pokemon hurt. One that doesn’t get you hurt. You did good k-”

Making an excuse for yourself through his salve won’t work. What he said you did wrong was involve other people in this. Your job is to pay them back for taking you in. Not to weigh them down and see them fail because you messed up. What could you have done better?

“Ask Esme to keep a better eye on the sky and fly over. There had to be someone else nearby since we were working in grids.

Good. Again.

 

Caspian was our water type. At the very least we could’ve let him work some of them better. Focus on the big gal instead of picking off all her minions.

Good. Again. 

“Better warning signs, doubling down after the rocks fell. Not letting myself get hit by those arc damn Lizards.”

Good. Again

A few days later, Costello found himself on that same odd uncomfortable couch for his doctor to play at therapist once more deep down in his basement.

“So. How are you feeling?”

….

“Come on Costello, you’ve been like this for more than a few sessions.”

“I don’t need to be here, and you don’t need to hear me speak.”

“Well, aren’t I the next Pokemon to sign off on your release? Health is both Mental and Physical.” 

That damned smirk in his voice was consistent to Costello. Always with that. 

“So sign the damn thing and stop cooping me up here.”

“We both know it is not as easy as that.”

The both of them looked at each other, staring into each other's eyes. Costello looked through the windows of the soul of the quack sitting across from him. Within them, he saw someone who wanted to get back into his braincage. Never again. And he wasn’t getting into his brain in the outer way either. Too much in there was still unsorted business.

Just lie to him. 

“Let’s start from the beginning. How was your big mission?”

“It was another thing to do.” Costello’s eyes remained firmly upward as he lied on the therapist's couch. “Thea wanted us to take care of those Salandits and get what they stole. We did that and that’s all. There’s nothing else to it.” 

Alzbell leaned to the left with a look of skepticism in their eye. “That bandage around your shoulder seems to state otherwise.”

“It's fine.”

“You say you are. Physically, I’m sure you’re fine. However, I’ve noticed since your injury, you’ve either been spending that time in recovery or spending that time in the injury ward.” The feline floated one of his many puzzle cubes in the air. “Very antisocial, don’t you think.”

“If I waste time not focused on getting back to healthy, then I’ll just get injured again. I need to get better now so that I’m not a burden.”

“Do you feel that you’ve been a weight before?”

Costello snapped his head towards his forced psychiatrist. “I think you need to get the point.” 

A small nod returned the sudden outburst, albeit with a small smile undercutting the calm. “There is one, there is one. However, we have to address those feelings of self-worth. Just because you’re not active doesn’t make you a strain.”

A twitch of Costello’s eye. That wasn’t it. For others maybe, but right now that wasn’t right. 

Calm down. Keep on the path. 

“Sure, some other time.”

“Excellent.” Alzbell shifted the squares around his cube lazily. “Have you heard from Liam by the by?”

“A couple of times.”

“So you’re not just cooped up in the attic Painting the Amber Hues?”

The silence reinforced the weakness of Alzbell’s attempt at intellectual conversation. 

“It's an old play regarding a Grafaiai and a Smeargle. Very nice though, they usually get good actors for it. Don’t know why I brought it up. Unless there have been renditions going on in your own sick bay.”

A shrug. “Only something about The World’s Last Autumn.”

Why would you entertain this?

“Oh! That’s a bit of an old one! Where did you hear about that?”

A bit after the whole Braviary speech, Costello sat outside in his medically approved rocking chair. While his need for the chair itself was more for comfort’s sake it was still appreciated. Good repetitive motions kept him on balance and kept his mind quiet. As he sat in his chair, he couldn’t help but overhear the conversations of an artist and his overbearing observer.

The fan itself sounded girlish and their body was one of a bull. A very large, fur of black, bull. The artist himself was a simple Smeargle, someone who kept himself oddly clean other than the makeshift brush at the tip of his tail. The both of them stood taking in what the artist had made.

“It's a very nice painting.”

“Yes. Thank you, Cessair.”

The Smeargle kept staring at the canvas. Light strokes left crimson streaks falling against the sunlight. On a hill, some quadruped had their head faced up in rapture as some green gangly Pokemon seemed to have some sort of wave lines coming from it. Energy dispersing and making the entire picture seem to earn its distortion. To earn the emotion of seeing the glory of nature in a religious sense. 

The Tauros however felt as though nothing

“I’ve never seen anything like it! A bit too early for Fall though, right Andy?”

“Aren’t you supposed to keep quiet due to your concussion?”

“If my brain couldn’t handle my bone walls then it deserved to get bruised. Now explain, artist!” The demand was joking and only half of that joking energy was released with the artist’s sigh.

 “Do you know where Autumn Embers is?”

“That dungeon the old Guildmaster closed down a while back?”

“Yes, that. But also what about it?”

Cessair thought on it for a bit. "A bunch of people kept saying that the Inquisitors and some Legendary or something like that fought. Jirachi in a fistfight or something."

The thought amused Andy. “No, nothing like that. One of the nature ones.”

“Arc, there so goddamn many of those.”

“Lots of facets of nature. 4 kinds of Sawsbuck. Might as well be a lot of Pokemon of Nature. Are you still interested in the art?”

“Not really but it's nice when you talk about it.”

The sincerity gave Andy pause. With that beat, he simply decided to take the compliment. “Sure. Anyway, the only real proof other than hear-say was a work of art known as The World’s Last Autumn.”

“We’ll have to see it sometime.”

“Won’t be able to. The piece was stolen after it was made. Though a few freaks say it was confiscated by the Inquisitors.”

"That sounds like nothing.

The rest of the Conversation was boring. So Costello tuned it out as he let the sun come over him.

“Well, in the presence of a future artist. You should have gotten an autograph.”

“Why?”

“Posterity for one. Selling it off for another if you’re one of those types.”

A blank look was the response to his reference.

“I don’t know why I try with you.”

A shrug from the lizard. “I don’t know why you try either.”

“Anyway, how is the headspace?”

“In what way?”

“Still hearing voices? We know that the thing in there must still be kicking.”

“It is.”

“Has it told you anything out of the ordinary? Anything involving the harm of a teammate. Or anything involving your personal health?”

“No.” 

“Are you comfortable will all this?”

“As comfortable as I can be.”

“Ok. You’re free to go then.”

“What? No more movements into my mind?”

A mile came on the face of Alzbell. “I have been strongly advised to remove that from my repertoire regardless of the benefit to the patient.”

“Ok.”

From there, it was more of the same. Alzbell’s failing attempt to connect with his patient and Costello stonewalling him from there. There wasn’t much to say but the point was more that he was still one down away from getting out of that -

Costello had bumped into something blue and in the time it took for him to fall on his ass, he knew exactly who he had bumped into.

Caspian however, did not recognize the weird form that he had rushed into it.

“Oh, sorry - Oh Costello!”

“Caspian.”

That same look in his eye. Weird. But all Caspian could was redirect as his own eyes landed on the bandages wrapped around Costello’s shoulder. A wince escaped reactively as he tried not to stare. 

“How have you been? How’s the shoulder? And the spine? And.. everything.” 

Costello shrugged. “I’m walking, so I’m fine.”

“Yeah. That’s good.”

With a lull in the conversation, Caspian could feel the weight of socializing with a coworker weighing on his shoulders. Luckily, he didn’t have to.

“Are you still carrying mail,” Costello inquired. 

“Oh, oh no. I get to be the one on moving duty. Basically just pushing and pulling things around. A lot more my speed, a lot less risk of getting pickpocketed.” An awkward laugh punctuated his admittance. Costello’s face remained stone.

“You don't have pockets. How are the others? I've been out of the loop since I was put in the infirmary”

“Yeah, I’m sorry again Cos-”

The cut-off was sudden and quick. “Don’t.” 

“Costello, yep, yep. I just wanna say thank you again for saving our butts back there. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“It's fine. We did the job right, and that’s what matters.”

"Haae, yeahh." For as much as Costello said he didn't hold any ill will, the o So did you hear that Liam got put on my old schedule?”

“No. How has that been?

Honestly, Liam, couldn’t get why they were all uppity about him doing this. It wasn’t much of a sweat in the slightest!

Another newsletter was dropped at someone’s doorstep, and another poster was left for someone new. Run around and do it right, that’s what life is made of!

Due to something complicated like “internal concerns” or whatever, Liam had been temporarily assigned the new duty of transportation ever since the whole business with the mail and the salandits. At first, it was just Thea’s letters to keep an eye on him after that whole mess in the forest, but since Thea saw that he could do much more, he’d been doing the mail till Cos got better. The lot of it was throwing letters and pamphlets at Mons which (other than an incident regarding the reflex of a Magmar and the loss of a potential sweepstakes win) was going well. He had something to fill the day that mattered rather than the needless busy work they gave him and Zata and Floe.

“Yo, Soren’s dude!”

The voice came from the blue blur coming up next to him. Wild look, sharp teeth, and a seeming ease at keeping up with his pace.

“Styles! What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing much, little dude. Just wanted to check in on you after your first-ever big mission!”

“It wasn’t bad. Can’t say it was Aces but it felt like it wasn’t a bad job.”

“Heard that your lizard friend got hit hard. You see him lately?”

The idea tripped him up a bit as he went on his way. 

“N-no. I’ve been stopped by all this stuff. The new route till they find someone else, the Drestal.”

“I heard Soren got to see him too to chew him out for it.”

“...”

“Trust me, kid. Even if it means blowing off a bit of work or so, don’t miss seeing your teammates while they're injured.”

“Cos is fine, Mr.Braviary says I shouldn’t trouble him too much right now till he gets better.”

“Arc, Soren must’ve become a stiff these days huh?”

Styles grabbed the slouching rabbit by the head and put him up to eye level. “I’m doing your route, you’re seeing your pal. Stop worrying, that’s Soren’s job. Aight?”

The smile on Liam’s face was strong and immediate. He couldn’t help but give a salute even with his legs dangling in the air. “Aye, ma’am!”

Relinquishing his mail duties to the Lucario, Liam rushed off to get some others for it. He had been a major bellend to Cos for not seeing him, he wasn’t going to half-ass making it up to him. Mates like him deserved better.

“Heh, there goes the guy.” Styles shook her head as she readjusted the mail satchel on her. Way too tight, way too small. It had been a while but she’ll deal with it. “Now, let's deliver the mail and try not to get deafened by Soren’s yammering.”