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Therapist: You seem different today.
Theo: I watched something worth watching.
The training had continued.
Two more sessions with Anabel, each harder than the last. She had moved from holding the aura under distraction to holding it under active pressure, standing close and pushing her...
Therapist: Does it bother you, knowing things you shouldn't?
Theo: Only when other people find out.
Anabel had not been lying about earlier than he'd like.
Five forty five. The training floor dark except for the lights she'd switched on herself, the gym Pokemon still in their enclosures, the...
Therapist: What does your aura feel like?
Theo: Like something I should have noticed a long time ago.
Anabel was already on the training floor when he came out at half six.
Sitting cross legged, eyes closed, hands on her knees. Still enough that Theo wasn't sure at first if she was waiting or...
Therapist: How does it feel knowing someone else has been through this?
Theo: Like finding a door I didn't know was there.
They used Surge's office but it wasn't really big enough for five people and the extra chairs from the meeting room made the space feel compressed, everyone slightly more...
Therapist: Do you feel like you belong here yet?
Theo: I don't know. Ask me again in a while.
The cookbook had been optimistic about his abilities.
That was the only conclusion he could reach standing in the kitchen on Wednesday morning looking at what was supposed to be scrambled eggs. They...
Therapist: What did you learn today?
Theo: That knowing something and doing it are completely different things.
Kadan arrived on Tuesday morning with a whiteboard.
Theo looked at it and then at Kadan and Kadan set it up at the edge of the training floor without explaining himself. He uncapped...
Therapist: How do you feel about not being able to leave?
Theo: Like it makes sense. That's the worst part.
The gym was empty when Theo woke up.
Not quiet in the way it was quiet in the evenings when the Pokemon had settled and the training floor was dark and the only sound was the low...
Therapist: Who found you?
Theo: Someone who didn't need to.
The charge at the end of Xurkitree's raised limb built past the point where Theo could track it and he stood on the ruined dock in the rain and didn't move because moving wasn't going to change what was about to happen and Electrike...
Therapist: Do you think you're brave?
Theo: I think I'm just bad at stopping.
The wormhole sat in the sky above the docks and pulsed.
Theo stood beneath it and the fear that had come up during the storm was still there. He wasn't pretending otherwise anymore. It sat in his chest and had no...
Therapist: Do you ever let yourself be afraid?
Theo: Not if I can help it.
Two weeks changed things in ways that were difficult to point to directly.
It wasn't any single moment. It was the accumulation of small ones that didn't feel significant until you looked back and realised how...
Therapist: How was your week?
Theo: I laughed a few times. That was new.
The registration desk had a rhythm to it once you found it.
Challengers came in waves, mostly in the mornings, the earliest ones arriving before the gym had fully woken up with the particular energy of people who had...
The outfit was folded on the desk when he woke up.
He lay still for a moment looking at it from the bed. A vest similar to Visquez's, dark and practical with the kind of stitching that suggested it was built to last rather than to impress, a plain shirt underneath, trousers with enough give in...
The crowd had gone completely quiet.
Not the gradual quiet of people losing interest but the sharp immediate kind, the kind that fell over a room when something was about to happen and everyone present understood it simultaneously. Even the younger kids in the upper tiers had stopped their...
The walk from the police station to the gym took less than ten minutes.
Vermilion was built close, the kind of city where everything important sat within reasonable distance of everything else, a design choice that Theo suspected had less to do with urban planning and more to do with the fact...
The police station smelled like old coffee and something faintly chemical that Theo couldn't name. He sat in a chair that was slightly too big for him, hands folded in his lap, then unfolded, then pressed flat against his knees. The officer across the table was shuffling papers she kept glancing...