Elite Four Will

He could sense the frustration beginning to boil in Lance as well, his familiar way of carrying himself when in a bad mood still plain as day in his child body's rigid posture. Together with his own, their negative attitudes matched the sky well; the dark, low-hanging clouds had begun to brew again, though for now not as fiercely as the past few days. Taking a glance at the ground, the soil was still moist from last night's rain as it was, which gave Will a moment of pause.

"Just a little longer," Will begged silently, not realizing that Lance was slowing down now. "Just a little longer before the rain picks up again--"

Again, Will was suddenly interrupted by Lance shoving him behind him again. Both of them were now pressed against a tree, with Lance's full body ensuring Will couldn't move from the spot. From the way Lance kept peeking out from behind the trunk, holding his breath, Will could tell that there were Pokemon near. He couldn't tell what kind when he was being smothered, but he trusted Lance enough to expect that it was a particularly dangerous kind. It was for that reason that Will didn't resist and risk ruining what Lance was trying to do, but the temptation was strong. Every second he was forced to sit there, stuck behind Lance instead of by his side, was another fresh needle in his already bleeding pride as an Elite.

"Instead of hiding me, let me help you! I still can!" That's the gist of what he wanted to say, he had the words ready, but just as he was about to, he caught Lance wiping the sweat off his brow. That normally wouldn't have alarmed him as much as it was, but now that he noticed it, he realized just how warm Lance felt when he was sandwiched against him just now.

"Is he already getting a fever?" Again, the words were on his lips, but before he could ask, Lance had him by the hand, pulling him along as they resumed their march.

"Ah, right..." That was all Will mustered to say, in the end. The moment had passed by too fast for him, and he didn't feel right digging it back up again. So, for a long while, they said nothing, entirely focused on the tasks at hand. These tasks, however, held a bit more weight for Will.

If he could succeed at gathering plenty of worthwhile resources, maybe that would help remedy these feelings of guilt he felt. Tangible proof he could live up to his promise he made to himself last night. So, for the rest of their trek, that became Will's primary mission.

And, to be fair, he did find plenty of worthwhile things by the time they were nearing the foot of the mountain. The problem was that he was unable to take most of it with them. Not because it didn't fit in his makeshift satchel, or that it was too heavy, nothing like that.

Instead, every time Will found berries that were edible and not claimed by Pokemon, when he went to reach for them, they were always too high. Even with Lance and himself standing on top of each other, end to end, the nearest branch was still a good distance out of their grasp. Most of the berries weren't even on the lower branches anyways thanks to the rain, which had forced the majority of the low-hanging fruit to the ground to be picked long ago by Pokemon. Poking with sticks proved to be too dangerous when they ended up poking a Pineco out of a tree instead of a berry, too. So by the time they'd attempted their last tree, the most they had to show for all their work was 1 or two very small, barely ripe berries.

Their water sack still sat empty as well, having come by nothing but exceptionally muddy water with no way to filter it. A small path to what might have been a drinking pool teased them at one point, but they were forced to back out quickly when faced with just how many Pokemon were beginning to teem around near where the pool was thought to be. Further insult was added to injury when, just after they'd begun to turn back, they find a discarded half of a broken Poke Ball. A perfect makeshift bowl for holding any water to drink...if they had any. It laughed at the both of them as Will had stuffed it inside the satchel, finding nothing else along their path in the meantime.

In fact, paths, and navigation in general, had proven to be another sore spot, especially as they began the mountain proper. Or, tried to. In the woods, it was getting lost from the lack of paths, burning precious minutes just to hack or stamp out some semblance of a clear way to walk. For the mountain, even at the very base of it, their new dilemma was none of the paths leading anywhere they could go. Whenever they just felt like they'd found a path that would finally lead them a little higher up the mountain, there was always some catch that forced them to turn around and start over. Whether it be boulders and debris blocking their path, too tall to cross and too tough to break or move, or the next part of the path being too far, tall, or muddy to traverse, no matter what tricks they tried, they were always put as much as half an hour backwards.

Even without Pokemon, as their usual selves, Will could think of plenty of ways for them to have conquered all these challenges.

As it was, though, they were now stuck, still circling near the base of the mountain with only a couple of berries, a Poke Ball lid, and plenty of fresh bumps and bruises to show for their whole day's troubles.

All the while, too, were their illnesses growing. While Will's only real symptom was a scratchy, swollen throat at the moment, all the futile exercising he did today didn't help him feel any better. Between those things and the iffy amount of sleep last night, Will could feel himself quickly reaching his limit for the day, but his stubborn resilience dared not let him ask to take a rest. He took what momentary breaks he could whenever they stopped to decide which path to try next at the most, nothing more.

The farther they went, though, the more small stops Will noticed they were taking. On the latest one, Will snuck a look at Lance while he was briefly preoccupied with the storm clouds, which had now resumed its rain at the pace of a light drizzle.

His hands, one of which was still locked onto Will's, had only gotten warmer throughout the day, but what really had Will's attention was his face.

"...It's much too red for just a heavy hike through the woods," Will thought, a small frown twisting his lips for a quick moment.

Just a moment later, a low rumbling, followed closely by a series of sharp cracks and tumbles, pulled Will's attention to behind him. There, in the not-too-far distance, debris flew down a sister mountain in a fine wave, spreading in a wider direction the farther it went. It lingered for a while before finally settling and dissipating--only for a few more to replace it before finally finishing for good.

Will continued to keep his eyes on the spot for a few moments longer, a half-vacant expression on his face. The full magnitude of the importance of what he just saw, be it due to denial or wariness, took a little longer to register. It was ultimately the rain that broke his trance, trickling into the palm of his raised hand as a spark of genuine concern began to grow in his gaze.

"...Lance?" Will turned back around slowly. His voice, already small before, had begun to shrink again in an effort to cushion the pain in his throat every time he talked. "Did you...see that, just now?"

Of course he saw it. Will knew he did. His question was simply a symptom of his reluctance. His reluctance to admit...that this whole, day-long trip to the mountain was a major mistake.

"We didn't get him!" Said one thug with a strained whisper, holding a walkie-talkie up close to his face. The men had taken spots on either side of the corner, readying for another ambush. It was hard to send a clear message while trying to reload his gun at the same time, so he repeated it a few times, his urgency rising each time. "Some random guy sprung the trap first an'--"

"--What?!"

The voice, loud, clear, and strict, made the static on the talkie fizzle with its force.

Its owner, clutching a walkie-talkie of his own tightly, was pacing feverishly as he listened to the other thug's explanation of what had happened. His surroundings, while too dark to tell much about his location, still featured several windows. The inner cityscape of Aspertia's skyline twinkled just brightly enough to illuminate the window's edges, hinting at the silhouette of a whimsical doll sitting on a plain, beaten table.

The man's hand slammed down right next to the doll, tipping it over from the shockwave. "Well don't let him just get away!" The man urged, turning away from the window. "We can't have this getting out!"

No more than a second after his order left his lips, a shadow eclipsed the light from the window for a brief moment. It chilled the back of his neck, but it didn't make him freeze. Instead, with one swift motion, he swapped the walkie-talkie out for the gun from his holster and spun around. His barrel was already pointed toward what he expected to be some intruder, perhaps a friend of this unexpected guy. To his surprise, though, there was nothing but the city horizon to greet him...

...and only the horizon.

"The doll...!" He began with a gasp, but it was cut short when he felt the sharp point of what he guessed to be a dagger being pressed against his neck.

The rest of the gang of thugs, meanwhile, had begun to grow antsy. The anticipation of waiting for the other man and his Scrafty was enough by itself, but the combination of a sudden cry of shock, followed by a long silence, was more than they could handle.

The one man holding the walkie-talkie dared not speak again, though he wanted to. Seconds ticked by painfully, the tension squeezing the men tighter and tighter into a box.

Finally, once they heard a single extra step, they all sprung from their hiding places and pointed their guns down the alley. Their fingers were less than a hair's width from pulling the trigger, but they held back at the last second when they saw who the body was that was laid out in front of them.

The other man from the windowed room, unconscious but not visibly harmed, was splayed in the middle of the alley. It completely captured their attention, lowering their guns for a few precious seconds as they inched closer to their 'boss'.

Their distraction was swiftly punished with a flurry of sharp, glasslike shrapnel whizzing past their figures. Several pieces slashed at their hands and wrists, cutting them open effortlessly and forcing their guns out of their hands. Then, before the guns even touched the ground, they all froze in midair before being sucked in behind them, towards one spot, at increasing speed.

By the time their gaze followed the guns' route, they would find that it led back to Xatu, orbiting the guns around her body. And, standing next to her, doll in hand and clad in his signature outfit, was Itsuki.

Though unable to be certain due to his mask, his posture at least implied a huge, smug smirk was hiding under it.

"...Hah!" One of the men finally spat, throwing out his Poke Balls. "Dumbass! You walked right into it!" As his Pokemon all materialized around him, readying their Imprison attacks, Itsuki stood still, unfazed.

Only half of the rest of what Lance said after that cough registered in Will's thoughts, too hung up on their health to offer an immediate reply at first. He caught enough to know the gist, though. Up until he saw the mountain range, it was lower on his list of concerns, but now...

Will opened his mouth to reply, but just as he did, a pair of small children's shoes dropped inbetween the two. Will paused, mouth still hanging slightly open, as he stared down at the shoes in bewilderment.

Another set of trills brought Will's attention above them to find the Leavanny, hovering over them and looking down expectantly.

"Oh..." Will pointed at the shoes, then between himself and Lance, trying to figure out whom the Leavanny meant them for. It responded by sliding them towards Lance's direction with its sickle-like arm, pointing at them several times. In its other arm were the pieces to another set of shoes, along with plenty of pieces of silk.

"Wow," Will said softly, marvelling at the shoes, "You can make anything with a little cloth, can't you?" The Leavanny, if nothing else, at least seemed to take Will's sunny expression a compliment, chittering happily as it turned back to finish the other pair of shoes. Will's gaze followed the Pokemon, watching its work process intently. The way it so nimbly and efficiently tore apart and restitched any material, in so little time at that, was absolutely mesmerizing.

"In fact..." Will tapped his chin, getting up to circle around to the other side of the rock workdesk it was using. While he waited for it to finish, he took a finger and began drawing two pictures in the dirt. Once the Leavanny finished with Will's pair of shoes, which he gratefully accepted, he knelt down next to his pictures.

"Leavanny, I have a request," he began, motioning toward his drawings. "Could you make us something like these?" Though crude, with Will's gesticulating, he was able to convey the meaning of his scribbles to the Leavanny fairly faithfully. The Leavanny squinted at both, tapping one of its sickles under its face thoughtfully, until its face suddenly brightened with inspiration.

Turning back to the pile of leftover cloth it had, it snipped off a rectangular piece of cloth and made some quick notches in it. Grabbing some silk from its mouth, it threaded one side of the cloth up in one go. After it repeated with the other side, it picked up a healthy, green leaf from a small pile it had sitting near a tree. Then, after soaking both it and the 'ugly' side of the newly sewn piece of cloth with its silk, the Pokemon turned the leaf into a funnel-shaped nozzle.

Finally, after affixing the nozzle to the sack-like thing it'd sewn, the Leavanny threaded a thin strip of cloth to the side for a strap. Finished, it held up the final product to Will, as if begging for a critique.

"Yes, yes, just like that!" Will said, adding on a 'thank you' after taking the newly crafted item off the Pokemon.

"I had the Leavanny make us a water sack," Will explained, turning towards Lance and holding it out for him. "It doesn't filter water, but at least we have a way to carry it now." Will pointed back at the Leavanny, who was working feverishly on a second sack-shaped thing.

"I also asked it for a satchel, so these should solve one issue or two." As the two waited on the Leavanny to finish, Will knelt down to try on his 'new' shoes. Once he had them fastened, Will tapped the tips against the ground a few times to test the fit.

"...Not bad at all, don't you think?" Will glanced back at the Leavanny, who was just finishing the last couple touches on their little satchel. A few minutes more, and the Leavanny was holding the new bag up triumphantly and waving it. Again, Will accepted the new item with a heartfelt 'thank you', but now he also caught sight of something wriggling around beside the Leavanny.

Quirking a brow, Will tilted his head slightly, discovering a small horde of Sewaddle descending slowly from the tree. They were all forming a line at the Leavanny's workspace, chittering to it as the Leavanny began to reach for more fabric.

"Ah...," Will said softly, realization softening his expression further. "Well then, I'll let your family have its turn next." He gave a small wave and additional word of thanks to the Pokemon, but it didn't seem to acknowledge him. Its eyes were fully focused on the clothes, now, chirping away with its children.

"Good thing we got our orders in when we did, huh?" Will mused with a small laugh, which was cut a little short when his throat began to throb from the needle-like pain slowly building in the back of it.

"...Anyways..." Will slipped the satchel over his chest, pushing the sack part behind him. "I think this is about as much help as we are going to get for now." He looked onward, past the sideways tree and towards the general direction of the mountains.

The moment Harley would get within a foot of the doll, its pleasant visage would instantly vanish. Where the it and the pile of garbage it sat on stood, a small Stantler would take its place. Its eyes, heavy with fatigue, would stare right through Harley as the Pokemon's antlers flickered a strange pattern. Then, out of every small door or dumpster in the alley, a horde of various types of Psychic Pokemon would pour out and suddenly surround him in a neat, tight circle. Inbetween their incessant cries, the Pokemon all moved as one. Each took the same, specific stance, looked up, and uttered a strange, screeching noise.

It all happened so quickly, within seconds, but aside from the screeching, this was all they were doing. Out of everyone there, the Pokemon themselves seemed the most puzzled. Initially, they were stalwart and determined, but as each awkard second of their 'attack' continued, their composure began to erode.

After a few more seconds, the Pokemon suddenly all halted at once. Their collective gaze, now no longer focused on Harley, instead stared past him.

Behind him.

...'Clik'

The sound of a Type Gem-powered pistol's barrel turning echoed out from the back of Harley's ear, followed by the sensation of something cold being pressed against the base of his skull.

"What the fuck," came a voice from the right side, stepping out the back door of a ratty store. He was eyeing Harley with a frustrated scowl from head to toe. "They said that's all we needed to do."

The Pokemon shrank back as another man approached from the right, recalling them into their Poke Balls one by one. "The guy did say Synchronoise right?" Said the other, not even bothering to pay Harley a glance as he pulled out his own Gem gun. He brandished the well-polished weapon carelessly, not caring who saw it.

"Wait--!" The man with the Pokemon was about to say something else, but the first guy that had come out talked over him. A flashlight now in his hand and pointed directly at Harley, the man's features had become a little more distinct with the extra light. His eyes were now knitted into a tight knot, glaring at Harley with a mix of alarm and anger. A scrap of paper was in his other hand, pulled out from his pocket discreetly, and he kept glancing between it and Harley. The longer he stared, the more his lips began to curl into a snarl. "...Shit!" He threw the photo, a blurry one of a masked man, to his feet and turned his flashlight off.

"It doesn't matter...," came a voice from behind. Judging by the proximity, it was the one that was pressing the cold thing against Harley, and it was all but confirmed that 'thing' was another gem gun. Slowly, he began to push it farther into Harley's skin.

More importantly at the moment, aside from their Poke Balls, they were also completely empty...

Will turned away quickly, sighing to himself as he walked himself back within Lance's earshot. If he had to guess, their PokeGears probably slipped out of their pockets easily during the river, along with anything else that wasn't securely clipped onto a belt like their Poke Balls were. Their broken Poke Balls...

Even knowing that his team was technically right beside him, literally in his hands if he wanted, they may as well all have been lost in the river too.

"We...really don't have much beyond ourselves at the moment..." His voice drifted off as spoke, growing in bitterness as it did. Looking up at the vastness of the forest now only served to remind him of what a small cage he was trapped in. Everything, in every sense of the word, all looked so big now...so crushingly intimidating...

"...But," Will finally added, as much to stop himself from spiraling as it was to answer Lance. "As you said, if we can just return to Driftveil and repair our Poke Balls, even remaining as children, our possibilities would expand dramatically." That wasn't even touching on how to find the bottle, too, but Will forced himself to take a quiet breath.

Driftveil first, bottle later.

And if Driftveil was first, then finding their sense of direction was paramount. Crossing his arms, Will started sizing up the trees nearest to them. If he could climb one, he thought, maybe he could find their direction the old fashioned way using the sun. "Hm..." He put a thoughtful finger under his chin. They all seemed so terribly big, though...with no good branches within his short reach for footholds.

Except for one tree.

One very lopsided, empty tree that they'd just spent the night in.

"Ah," Will mumbled, slowly approaching the edge of the rut that led down to it. "Maybe I can..." He automatically started to turn back towards Lance, but stopped himself just short of catching him in the edges of his vision. "Since we've got some time before Leavanny's done, I'm going to give this idea of mine a try."

With that, Will carefully slid down the rut and to the sideways tree again. He shouted an additional 'Don't worry, I'll be careful!' back up at Lance as he did, just to make sure he stayed placated, but was surprised to notice how sore his throat felt after. Swallowing a few times did nothing to abate the pain, too, which gave Will pause. It wasn't enough to make him stop moving, but it did take up most of his thoughts as he climbed onto the near-horizontal trunk of the tree. His concern prompted a few more stray memories to pop up in his head. Memories from yesterday, at the PWT, before they spied that damn warehouse...

It seemed so long ago now, but Will could distinctly remember plenty of people around him wearing face masks, coughing, even carrying packets of tissues with them. They were at the PWT nearly all day, too, starting at dawn, so the incubation period would correlate with his symptoms he was feeling right now, too...

"Oh please no..." Will begged to himself as he carefully walked along the trunk, "not now..."

When he reached the edge of the trunk, where the branches began to jut out, he was pleased to find they all had grown upwards. They were much easier to climb than any large tree trunk would be, though his happiness was a bit muted with his nagging throat. Still, he climbed, picking what seemed like the most sturdy branch.

When he reached the end, he was still just short of piercing the canopy proper, but a quick search around showed he was within jumping distance of another, taller tree. Though a bit far, Will felt confident he could still make the jump-- --and then he looked down.

The sheer, jagged drop that the seemingly innocent hill led into nearly spooked Will right off the branch. It was enough to make his legs buckle for a moment, clinging to the branch with both arms as he stared down at the drop. Suddenly, all of the confidence he had moments ago evaporated. He'd sailed across much deeper, wider gaps than this before, but never without his powers to help his jump.

"N-no no, this is...this is ah...just the circus again," Will told himself, trying to twist the forest floor into that of his childhood troupe's. One hand was kept on the branch at all times still, gripping it tightly as he slowly unwrapped himself and stood up. Once he couldn't walk any further without letting go of the branch, he did so, spreading his arms out in a t-pose.

"Yeah, I did the tightrope a few times..." He talked himself all the way to the beginning of a narrower piece of the branch, though hesitant to put his full weight onto it. "I never actually got to be part of the act, but..." It stung ever so slightly to take a deep breath, but he did so anyways and leaned forward. A small creak escaped the wood, but after a few seconds, he could hear no other noise. So, he took another breath and put his other foot in front, keeping his gaze forward-facing. The branch he needed to get to was just a few more steps away before the big jump now. His legs were quivering, but he stiffened his posture and lifted another leg forward.

...Snap!

The first one he heard was tiny, but it sunk the branch a visible few inches. It somehow didn't throw Will off, but it made his body freeze in place. Then another snap came, though this one was a long, drawn out one that grew in volume as the branch began to dip further. Jolted by panic, he dashed haphazardly towards the edge and kicked off as hard as he could. A large, final snap behind him, followed by the distant crash of wood, let him know he jumped off just in time...

...but the distance between him and the other branch, sitting so painfully close to his outstretched fingers, let him know he was just short of the distance he needed.

Though only airborne for a second or two, the slow-motion terror that rode up in him as he started to descend made it seem like he was watching the world frame by frame.

Terror, for some reason, finally made him look down, expecting to see his doom carved out in the rocks below. Instead, though, he was surprised to see another thick tree branch sitting above it, waiting to catch him. It was almost all too quick for him to comprehend but the branch easily took the brunt of his impact all the same. Landing with a hearty 'whoompf', he caught a gut-full of oak slamming all of the air out of his chest for his end, but he was happy to take it. If he wasn't wheezing so hard, he probably would be thanking it.

"Just...like...the circus..." A nervous, half-dazed chuckle quietly slipped past his lips as he took a few minutes to regather himself.

From that point, aside from a renewed soreness in his chest, he faced no problem climbing the second tree. It took him past the canopy ceiling easily, giving him a miles-long view of the vast mountains scraping the horizon.

...Mountains?

He sat himself on a small, y-shaped branch section to take in the sight. From a vague mental map of Unova, he did recall a mountain range in the Western portion of the region; one of Unova's Gym Leaders even owned part of it, didn't he? And he lived...in...Driftveil...

Great.

Under any other set of circumstances, he'd call what he was seeing beautiful. Grey, somber-looking mountains towered over the endless range of rich, bright green trees below. With how the multiple, rocky levels of plateaus and sharp hills--surely a result of the mountains' proximity--ebbed and flowed beneath the trees, it gave the impression of a wild set of sea waves swirling about.

Right now, though, all this scenery boiled down to 'obstacle course'. He was very tempted to add 'impossible' onto that description, too, but a small bit of hope was trying to hold him off from assigning such a label so quickly. Its logic was 'who knows how hard those mountains would be until you try?'

Dissatisfied but finished with his survey of the area, Will decided to wrap things up with doing what he'd initially come here to do by checking the sky for the sun's positioning...

...except he couldn't.

It was blocked by the same thick set of rain clouds that'd been plaguing Unova the entire time they'd been there. As always, they seemed ready to burst open any second.

Technically, with the mountains to guide their path, they didn't really need to know the cardinal directions now, but it still smacked of yet another abusive slap to the face by fate. As Will carefully descended the tree, he was tempted to even call it an omen, but whatever it was, it didn't change their objective. Come what may, they needed to reach the mountains.

Will rejoined Lance and the Leavanny with a weary sigh as he finished climbing back up the hill, still careful to keep his eyes from falling on Lance until Leavanny was done.

"Well, the skies are still too overcast to use the sun, but I did find something else we could use a directional anchor." Turning from where he just came Will pointed straight ahead. "I spotted a large mountain range in that direction." He took a quick moment to swallow again. His throat was getting dryer and pricklier by the minute, but he still fought to keep his 'normal' voice. "Given the flow of the river and Driftveil's proximity to the Twist Mountain range, I think heading towards those mountains would be our best option right now."

"...That is, assuming these forest plateaus don't give us too much trouble."

"No no, I'm fine, Lance, really!" Will insisted, spinning his head towards Lance and putting on the most reassuring smile he could muster through all this embarrassment. He still couldn't help his eyes habitually darting sideways every now and then, though.

"I only woke up a few minutes ago, already like this, so it must have, ah, started on my clothes while I was still sleeping..." He was careful to avoid saying something as inflammatory as 'taken me while I was still sleeping', but saying his alternative aloud still made his skin prickle. So, he hastily added, "But I don't think it's interested in anything besides my clothes." He tipped his head up to point at the Leavanny, who was dutifully spinning more silk thread to run between its appendages. "It's far more likely I got these marks when..."

His voice quickly sunk as he recalled those gut-crushing punches he was force-fed by that particularly angry thief, unable to replicate a single sound in his head besides a persistent ringing.

"...er, at the dockyard yesterday..." His fragile smile had unknowingly faltered, turning away for a moment with a defeated little sigh. A long pause passed by, filled with the sound of Leavanny's chitters and hums, and Will took the moment to recollect himself. By now, his arms had been stuck upright long enough that they were starting to go numb and tingly. He kept his discomfort to himself, though, not wanting to rile Lance up any further than he'd already done. Whatever words he chose to say next, they needed to be thoughtful and planned.

"...I appreciate your concern, Lance, really, but I don't think this Leavanny is dangerous. After all, why would it pass up multiple opportunities to harm me, and then make me new clothes instead?" And Will didn't want to say this part aloud, but, hostile or no, he did not want to watch Lance make himself into a human shield for his sake for a third time.

The Leavanny had come back again to measure a piece of sleeve against his arm, allowing Will a good close-up of its fragile but razor-sharp 'hands' as it did so. It only further affirmed his desire to avoid any conflict with this Pokemon, but it also planted a small idea in his head, one that might help placate Lance's fears a bit. So, once the Leavanny went back to resume its sewing, Will spoke up again.

"You know...perhaps it's acting like fashion designers do?" Will let the suggestion sit in the air for a few moments before continuing, watching the Leavanny do its work as he spoke. "They usually make their clients stand on a pedestal so they can drape the cloth to match their figure."

"Its limbs are so frail, and I was asleep...it was probably easier to do this than lift a boulder into position and wake me up." It was just an idea, at first, but the more Will thought about it, the more it made sense. The alternative explanations were much more gruesome or uncertain, so he was content with sticking to this one.

He was so content with his theory, in fact, that he hadn't fully noticed the Leavanny coming back again. This time, it had a folded piece of clothing hanging over its arm, and it had gone behind him. Anticipating another cloth measurement, he tried to keep himself straight and still, but he never felt another piece being pressed against his skin. Instead, he heard the light, quick 'shink' of something being sliced cleanly above him.

He looked up just in time to see his hands, now cut free and falling back to his sides, and the smiling Leavanny, who had its cloth-holding arm ready to catch him before he fell any real distance. After being gently put down next to Lance, Will took a moment to rub his sore wrists, let the blood--and relief--start to flow back into them. He got about two seconds of this before the Leavanny shoved the dark mauve cloth it had been carrying over Will's head.

Several seconds of awkward fumbling passed, magnified by the Leavanny's attempts to help, before Will found the hole for the head and pulled the shirt down over his chest. As he looked down at himself, he realized it was a cozy, dark mauve sweatshirt, complete with a single large pocket in the front and a hood in the back. Upon closer inspection, Will even noticed there was light elastic in the cuffs, threaded together using the Leavanny's silk. Altogether, his new outfit could barely be distinguished from something you'd see in a store.

"Wow, I never expected such detail..." He was about to thank the Leavanny, but its attention had already shifted entirely to Lance. It was circling him very slowly, pausing every so often to test the fabric's resiliency.

"Well I suppose it's your turn now," Will said with a small chuckle, turning away to face the opposite direction of the two. "Don't worry, I won't be peeking." It was going to be a while before the Leavanny was done, he knew, so he busied himself with surveying what surroundings he could see...

...which wasn't much but lots of brush and trees. In every direction.

"...Where...might the river have dropped us off, do you think? Did we ever have time to figure that out between our little series of heart attacks yesterday?" Will said with a half-joking edge in his voice, crossing his arms. Being able to move them so easily, without having to wade around folds of fabric, was definitely a thing he would not take for granted again.

Meanwhile, Will offered the man a somewhat defeated nod and a small sigh once his speech was done, hoping it would speed up his departure. Outside answering any more simple requests or commands the man gave with an equally basic nod or shake of his head, Will did not speak again until he listened for the sound of footsteps fading away down the apartment steps. When the loudest sound became the hum of electric lamps, Will used the end of the bedframe to help gingerly push himself to his feet.

"I suppose I shouldn't have expected him to understand why my keeping so close to my MO is so important..." Will looked over at the top half of his outfit, sitting lopsided on the chair next to his Xatu. He was going to have a talk with her later about tricking him into opening up like that--because they both knew that's what she did now--but he had more important things to spend his limited time on now. "He still has no idea what he is walking into." His memories were still murky, but even before he and his team were hit with Imprison, he remembered his Pokemon struggling against the guards'. Some were even carrying weapons. And if an Elite's Pokemon were having trouble themselves...

"I can't let him go alone."

Will had hobbled over to the chair as quickly as he could tolerate, his thief outfit nearly in his grasp, when suddenly it blinked away. In a whirlwind of a moment, he was instantly back in the bed, covers pulled over, and, by the time his vision stopped spinning, looking up at his Xatu. Her feet were planted on his chest, stare narrowing at him.

A small, defiant pout was shot back in response, trying to sit up and lift his equally stubborn bird off him. Pressure like he'd never felt before bore down on him anytime he so much as lifted his head, though, the familiar sensation of Psychic energy tingling his skin.

"Drop your Psychic, Xatu," Will ordered, straining his arms and neck against the force of her attacked.

She said nothing, nor did she waver, keeping her slitted eyes directly focused on him.

"I...," Will gasped inbetween his pushes, feeling all the pain beginning to build to such a degree that even the medicine couldn't mask it. "I know I'm in no condition, but..." His head was pounding, and his ribs felt like they were turning to ash, but he still managed to get an arm raised slightly. "But what other options do I have...?!"

Poke.

Xatu only needed to peck him once, relatively gently, in order to hammer him back against the bed. His arm crumbled, and the last of his limited energy was knocked out of him instantly. Each breath he took brought new pain, unaffected by the medicine, and every one of his upper body's muscles ached. It was stupid, he knew, thinking he would win a fight against a Pokemon's Psychic, but desperation was making him frantic. He had to do something...he was going  to lose everything soon, one way or another...

And now, all he could do was lie down and wait...

He passed in and out of consciousness several times over the course of hours, noting the time shift briefly by the change in light coming from the window while he was awake. Then, when he awoke the final time, the light had dimmed into a cool, early moonlight. Xatu was still sitting on him, staring at him, watching him for any signs of resistance. Will had none to make this time, though; the medicine had now worn off, and he was utterly crippled by the pain.

"...Has he found it yet?" Will's voice was weak, for even talking was agony.

Xatu still heard him, though, shaking her head no.

"...Is he close?"

Xatu nodded slighty.

The answer made the pit in his stomach multiply in size--he wanted to vomit. In his panic, Will searched the corners of the room endlessly, trying to pull a solution out of the air. Afterimages hovered around the corners of his eyesight randomly as he did so, fading and then reappearing anew with each painful pulse of his headache. Despite the pain, Xatu remained on his chest, watching him intently as multiple duplicates of her danced around.

Wait...

...duplicates?

"No, Lance...!" Despite panic making it quiver, desperation still made him raise his voice as much as he could muster. Unfortunately, his voice had faded so much from exhaustion that, on top of being muffled under Lance's clothes, his plea came out as a weak, hoarse cry. Still, he continued, trying to grasp at something, anything, to hoist his feeble legs up and get Lance's attention. "Don't--" He forced an arm, burning and tingling from the lingering venom, free, using it to try and push the rest of him out from behind Lance's body press. The presence of the Pokemon's heavy gaze was palpable, giving Will the strength he needed to push himself further.

"--please don't do this...!" Will's head finally popped out from the side, peering past Lance and meeting the malevolent stare of...

"...F-Furret?" The adrenaline that had been fueling him took a nosedive, dumping him back on the floor in a shaking pile. His eyes remained trained on the Furret's though, watching warily as it carefully wiggled itself inside. Much to his silent embarrassment, the slanted 'eyes' he thought he saw were just the Pokemon's classical face mask. Its actual eyes, beady and simple, switched between him and Lance every now and then. Will only stared back, unmoving, trying to search the Furret's body language for signs of hostility. Everything told him he should stay cautious, but he couldn't help but start to relax in spite of himself.

No sooner did he finally start to calm down again than he found himself being grabbed and hoisted up again. Still too weak to fight Lance's grip, he could do nothing as Lance danced around the perimeter of the hollow. It appeared that he was circling for the exit, but...

"Lance, wait," Will whispered, "I don't think this Furret is..." His voice trailed off in resignation as he continued to be jerked towards the only opening. Will sighed quietly, too tired to continue to push the issue, and he looked back at the Furret somewhat apologetically.

Then, to his surprise, they actually stopped.

"Ah..." Will glanced ahead of Lance to see that the Furret's body was so long that it had obstructed the exit. Meanwhile, the Furret's head inched closer to the two, tilting its head to the side, before suddenly giving them a gentle nuzzle.

Though its fur was damp, it was warm, and it was far softer than anything they'd touched so far tonight. Will practically melted onto the Furret's body right there, only staying upright due to Lance's grip. It then switched to its tongue, taking turns licking both their faces furiously. For the first time in what felt like ages, Will started to feel a genuine smile sprout on his lips. This alone would have been enough for him on such a miserable night, but the cherry on top was Lance. Upon seeing his priceless pout, trying to keep his stony expression as a giant furball licked him all over, Will couldn't help but burst into laughter. It was shaky and quiet, but also unrestrained, genuine, and light.

The Furret was back on Will now, inspecting the giggling kid with its nose before moving to herd him onto its body with its giant, fuzzy head. Will didn't fight the Pokemon at all now, happily but gingerly embracing it's head nuzzles. Once the Furret roped Lance in with its tail, the Pokemon curled around them closely, easily encircling their small bodies and bundling up the three of them in one ball.

As everyone settled in once again, Will breathed a deep, relieved sigh. Everything was quiet again, save for the steady rain beating down and an occasional Pokemon's cry. Drowsiness was creeping up quickly, easily lulling his eyes shut, but his mind, swirling with countless thoughts, still persisted for the moment.

"This...really all did just happen..." Will turned on his side, pulling his arms close to his chest. Will couldn't help but keep replaying the day's events in his head as he drifted off, slowly noticing a downright embarrassing trend.

"...and..."

"...I couldn't do anything, could I...?" He hoped some part of him would chime in, tell him he's wrong, that he was indeed a help, but his inner voice had fallen deafeningly silent.

"...I did it again, and again...always freezing up...always needing Lance to help me, even with walking..." Will's hands curled up into light fists, unconsciously setting his jaw.

"I can't even remember the details of a bottle, the one thing that would explain this whole situation..." The image of its strange appearance was seared into his memories, as well as the terrifying sensation it gave him until he passed out the first time. Beyond that, though, the crucial details of its name and information were just beyond his accessible memory. It made his chest sickeningly heavy, eliminating any lingering, pleasant feelings he had from the Furret.

"What kind of Elite can't help his Champion with even one thing...?" He was nearly about to fall asleep, consumed with guilt, until he felt something cold grab his hand. His eyes snapped open with a gasp, expecting some sort of new threat. Instead, though, he only found Lance, asleep, with his hand gently squeezing Will's.

Instantly, his mind flashed back to the riverbank, watching Lance break down into a sobbing mess, watching him force it all back down...

It brought a small, regretful frown to Will's face as he looked upon Lance's unconscious figure. There was nothing for him to say or do at the moment, as much as he wished otherwise, but he at least let Lance keep his hand.

"I will do better, Lance...," Will thought, finally starting to drift off. "I promise..."

Will's next morning was immediately off to a great start, awaking with a confused cry when he finally noticed a sense of weightlessness. It took several moments for his vision to sharpen, but he could already tell something was wrong. There was a strange tingling on his face, and his arms felt like they were stretching out on their own, accompanied by a small breeze.

"Wha..." Will blinked several times, squinting to try and wake himself up faster. Finally, his eyes adjusted and, right in front of his face, was a Leavanny. Its antennae were skittering all over his face, and its leafy arms were wrapping silk around his midsection. Speaking of that, his whole top half was bare, revealing all of his fresh bruises and marks he earned from last night.

It was all more than enough to evoke a startled cry from Will, instinctively wanting to back up but quickly realizing he couldn't. Not while his arms were tied to a low tree branch with silk. His legs were free, having been in an upright position this whole time since his arms were tied up, but he still couldn't use them to much effect right now.

This fact only made him thrash more now, pulling his arms down with all his might to break the silk rope. He could see the tree hollow nearby; if he could just make a run for it--

'Bonk!'

The Leavanny dropped its leaf arm on his head, not hard enough to do serious damage but enough to get his attention. It wagged its other arm at him, tsk'ing with various insect chitters. Then, instead of stabbing him or eating him or any of the other horrible things Will's paranoid mind conjured up, it simply went back to...sewing?

"...Huh?"

That's what it looked like, at least. The Leavanny had turned to pick up an article of cloth, torn up from his adult clothes that were laid out neatly on a rock, and then held it up to Will's torso. Using its arms, it made notches in the fabric, then turned again to swap it out for another piece.

"Oh..." Will looked down at himself again, shocked to find that his oversized pants had been completely redesigned and resewn into a pair of dark-colored, knee-length pants. He even was now wearing some kind of basic shoe as well.

"Ohh!" Will lifted his gaze back up at the Leavanny, who was now measuring another piece of clothing on his chest. He opened his mouth to thank her, but he caught a glimpse of red moving behind the Pokemon.

For a split second, Will wondered what it could be, but then it dawned on him after just another moment of thought.

"W-wait, Lance, no!" Will shouted, his voice still a little sore but not fading from exhaustion like before. "It's ok! I'm ok!" He was going to gesture to his new pants and shoes, but...he had to settle for just an explanation. "This Leavanny is just making me new clothes out of my old ones."

The Leavanny had turned around to face Lance when Will started shouting, already carefully inching closer to him, eyes locked onto his clothes.

"Er..." Having a bright screen so close to his face hurt his head on its own, but the sheer anger he could feel burning off those questions made it feel like the world was spinning for a solid moment. His bewilderment must have been quite explicit, for the man launched into a passionate, small rant...

...in support of him.

"Oh," was all Will could say at first, still several sentences behind. "Ahm, well, I...I can't say I expected this..." Given how large public outrage tended to be regarding the evidence he released, he wasn't sure why this man's reaction was any more unique or surprising to him. Perhaps, he thought, it was because he never thought anyone would take the extra step to want to actively help him like this.

"...Finding the doll is actually not the problem, though - Xatu can find it with her postcognition." He gestured to her with his good hand, the bird already having begun marking the spot on the PokeGear with her beak. "The problem is how I can get there and take it back safely."

He pulled his good arm back towards himself, shifting his gaze to the floor. "This man craves control, with no loose ends left hanging. He would not have simply left the doll where I dropped it, unless he wanted me to come find it."

For a moment, he forgot he was without his mask, staring at the man with a look of utter confusion. "He can't be serious," was Will's initial thought. He clung to this disbelief, even after the additional explanation of the police being crooked. Indeed, from what he'd learned from his own research, and a fair bit of experience, many pockets of Unovan police were corrupt, but that didn't ease Will's suspicions. Interpol loved to keep sleepers, for example. This occasion would be a perfect excuse for one of them to take him in and trick him into spilling all of his closely-guarded secrets. Will's throbbing head was still too fuzzy to dig too deeper, but he thought of enough possibilities that, as nice as the man seemed, made him hesitate to speak again.

Then, as he looked down, he found himself staring into Xatu's eyes. Most likely, she'd snuck to his side while his focus was on the man across from him. Now, she wouldn't take her gaze off him, nudging at him with her beak. It took him a moment to comprehend what she meant, but when he did, he couldn't help but raise a brow for a moment. His eyes glanced between the man and Xatu, as if confirming he was understanding her correctly. Impatience was apparently high for her today, for she let out a sharp chirp while knowing full well how badly it would hurt right now. Placing a hurried hand on her head, he acknowledged her with a reluctant nod.

Returning to the man with a small sigh, he paused while he thought about how he would say all of this. Then, he finally spoke.

"I...appreciate that." Will wanted to keep his voice quiet for the sake of his head, but he forced himself to speak up slightly. "...The code of conduct I swore myself to, back when I began my 'career', prevents me from telling you the exact details, but I can tell you a, ah, a general summary of what happened."

"Now...how to put this..."

He wanted to fold his hands on the table, but he remembered too late that he only had one good arm. Hissing in a small breath, he decided to use his good arm to support his dislocated one instead.

"...Hm, I suppose I should start with my target." Xatu nodded in affirmation, still keeping her eyes trained on Will.

"...The owner of the doll I stole is the young daughter of a powerful business mogul-slash-philanthropist. Currently, his actual business is moderate but rapidly expanding, and a lot of that could be owed to his stellar public image." Will paused to look down at Xatu again, who simply stared back at him expectantly.

"...His charity donation list is extensive, and he even has founded many of his own organizations for various causes. In all my time investigating him, I never came across anything less than a neutral article about him.”

"...It's all a very elaborate facade, but a facade nonetheless." Will waited again, letting what he said sink in a little before resuming his story.

"His public business is just a front to launder money from his...'real' business.” Getting into the gory details wouldn’t be needed right now, right?

“All of his charities and the ones he donates to are shells, meant to avoid taxes and store his dirty money." A hint of bitterness began to drip into Will's tone as he continued, growing more apparent as he went on.

"Essentially, they're just his private banks, but he uses the front to establish a very strong public armor. Accusations simply bounce off him and back onto the accuser, though he isn't above 'making them go away' if they aren't willing to do so themselves."

"Now..." Will's gaze slid down to the table. "I did manage to find a chink in his armor--a portable hard drive that he uses to conduct all of his activities on--but he always keeps it in a very secret place." Will didn't say what it was, instead using the pregnant pause to insinuate all his host needed to know. "Most likely, he thought he could smear anyone that would try to get the evidence by using his daughter to pull on the public's heartstrings. I, of course, am more immune to this kind of deterrent, so my heist went on as planned, but..."

Another sigh, this time a very long, tired one. "...I didn't anticipate his other defenses."

The building bitterness in his tone was obvious now, peaking and subsequently plateau'ing with the rest of his story.

"When I was making my escape, he had an ambush waiting for me. They..." He stopped short of saying 'sealed his powers with Imprison'. It was embarrassing enough that he let it happen; he didn't need anybody else knowing it could be done.

"...They incapacitated me, and I was so disoriented I--I dropped the doll." Shame tinged his tone with disappointment and guilt now, creating a powerful mix when combined with his bitterness.

"I don't remember where, but it was shortly before I fell, where you found me, and..."

The rising concern in his voice came out as an awkward squeak, hitching in the middle of his throat. Lance bowing his head, trying but failing to force back sobs--it was something Will never expected to personally witness. Children crying was already something that affected Will deeply, and even knowing it was Lance--no, especially since he knew it was Lance--

--it made him feel far worse.

Immediately, Will began to lean forward a little, opening his mouth to ask what was wrong but stopping just short of it. Before even posing the question aloud, he'd begun exploring answers to it himself. They had finally gotten their first 'lull' in this whirlwind so far, and Will's simple thought gave the full gravity of the situation the opportunity to catch up to him.

He took notice of the little things first--the immediate things--like the fact that he was completely soaked, having even been shivering this whole time. If his clothes felt heavy before, they were like sandbags now; his shirt had already slipped down part of his side and exposed part of his chest and shoulder. He lifted his hand to pull it back up as best as he could but stopped once he heard a very large slosh beneath him. What greeted him when he looked down was a small puddle in the gravel, holding the reflection of a small, bleary-eyed, black-haired boy.

It looked like he was exactly right about just how dramatically far back that bottle aged them.

Brightened with alarm for a short moment beforehand, Will's eyes now darkened again, studying his drooping expression in the puddle. He tried to look for a moment of solace somewhere, be it in mental or physical, and his gaze stupidly fell back on the river's surface. He turned away too late again, the sight scratching at his fresh memories like a fresh wound and replaying them all over again. When they stopped sharply on the moment he was trapped in the river depths, frozen in the undertow, then 'skipped' to Lance waking him up, Will fell backwards.

"I...in the river, I..."

His stomach fluttered, prompting Will to pull his knees up close while he tried to settle himself.

"I almost..."

Now, a few stray tears were beginning to peek at the edges of his eyes as well, forcing him to blink them back. Already, he tried to argue to himself that it was ok, that he had already been in in plenty of death-defying stunts, that this was just another one...

...except he could never remember a time he was so utterly doomed, so out of control of the situation, so entirely dependent on another independent force to save him.

'What's wrong?' -- a ridiculous question he's happy he didn't say in hindsight.

"...What's happened to us...?" That was a much better question to pose, but one he didn't have any answers for. He had no answers at all--for any of this. No Pokemon, no powers, and no other abilities that could help them find an answer...and the same was true for Lance, plus almost having no Elite with him.

Of course he was sobbing.

As he lifted his head up, Will thought about at least apologizing for how much grief he put him through. To his surprise, though, Lance was up again. His face and voice told clearly that his breakdown was forced short, but he wasn't speaking anything of it. He ignored Will's question entirely as well, changing the subject to shelter and offering his hand to Will again. This time, Will's blue eyes did not lighten when he took it; they simply stayed the same, studying Lance's face.

"Lance, surely you must know," Will thought, looking onward at the forest they were about to enter, "doing this to yourself will only make the consequences worse..."

What seemed like an hour or two had passed since they entered the woods now. It was a very rough estimate, given the thickness of the forest treetops completely obscuring the sky. It was helpful for lightening the rainfall a little, but it otherwise was a very dangerous obstacle. The night sky was already covered with an impenetrable wall of storm clouds; combined with the tree coverage, they couldn't see past their noses.

Will had slept peacefully through many nights like this during his world travels, even sometimes staying up until morning to explore. Obviously he had his Pokemon then, and as terrifying as it was to be walking through this forest without them now, he didn't even have his powers to protect him. Even before he had his first Pokemon, he had his powers, always. When all else failed, they were always a consistent safety net for him to lean on, and he did so many times.

Now, should he make a single misstep, he had nothing to stop him from hitting the metaphorical floor of consequences that threatened him.

Even his own body could not be depended on, being not only small but also so weak from the Frillish venom that he needed to be attached to Lance just to walk. Though the Frillish wasn't around to give him a fresh injection, the venom proved to be slower to dissipate than he thought. Several times he asked Lance to let him see if he could now stand on his own, thinking enough of his strength had returned, and each time his legs gave out easily. As awkward as he felt about physical contact, something else was taking up the entirety of his concern:

If they were to be chased by any Pokemon right now, they were as good as dead.

The overbearing cacophony of noise, following them no matter how deep they went in the forest, served as a constant reminder of this ever-present threat. Altogether, it set Will's hair on end. To compensate for his defenselessness everywhere else, he'd become oversensitive to every generic noise he heard. From grass rustling to branches creaking, he was close to jumping at every one.

And in the midst of all this, they still had not found any place to finally rest their battered bodies. Both of them had been looking, but any that they found were either too shallow to give them any protection, or occupied. Luckily, the Pokemon they encountered so far were just as spooked and quick to flee as Will was, but it still only made the urge to find shelter stronger.

So focused on this task was he now that he failed to notice the edge of a large, descending rut sneaking up on their path.

It easily took Will's already weak legs out from under him, and it would have dragged him all the way down had Lance not been maintaining a tight hold on him this whole time. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, though, for at the end of the downward slope was a half-fallen tree. It had sprouted in an unfortunate part of the forest, its own weight and awkward angle having made it grow in such a way that it began to tip sideways. The tree still seemed alive and strong, though, for it alleviated its situation somewhat by overdeveloping its half-exposed roots. They now still stuck in the ground, keeping it anchored, but it also made a very decent-sized 'cave' at its base.

And it was empty.

In no time at all, the two carefully slid down to the tree, finding they fit snugly inside with a little room to spare. They were still freezing and soaked, but they were finally off their feet.

"Well," Will sighed, his voice fading as he started to feel the soreness and exhaustion crash back into him, "better late then never, right?"

His eyes were already closing, all the long-held tension in his muscles beginning to drain out as he easily drifted off. Then, out of the last sliver of sight he had left, Will noticed something. It was so miniscule and so hard to see in the darkness that he couldn't possibly fathom how he caught it, but his eyes snapped back open all the same. He may have not been able to tell what he saw before, but now, he couldn't miss it if he tried.

Not much of it was distinguishable in the darkness, but its enormous size was unmistakable. It was standing at the mouth of their shelter ominously, blocking their only way out. For the moment, it was simply peering in at them with what looked like a round, downward-slanting eye shape. Nothing else was as clear as those few things, but they didn't need to be. It was all more than enough for Will to choke out a small, involuntary cry of terror.

He had no idea what that could be, yet, when it stopped for a moment, he started to feel so much more tired. Though his eyes had stayed closed the whole time, everything started to feel even darker. It was only for a moment, though, resuming just as Will started to drift back off into unconsciousness. This time, the repeated pressing was enough to rouse his hearing.

"...a...e...up...ill..."

It was a voice, no doubt, but it sounded so far away; he couldn't make out what it was saying at all. The tone was still clear, though, and it sounded very...sad? No, frightened. Or, maybe it was both? Whatever the word he settled on, the person's voice was upsetting to hear.

".....who...?"

As heavy as they felt, Will fought to open up his eyes, even if just a hair's breadth, to get a glimpse at the person. They seemed to open so slowly, though, and when they finally did, he could barely see. Everything was covered in a dark fog...except for a blot of red in the center.

"......huh?"

Will blinked once, trying to focus better on the figure, which he now realized was hovering over him, pressing into his chest. It was...a kid? In really large, wet clothes? And his face...it was almost as red as his hair, scrunched up into a pained expression. Tears were at the corners of his eyes, which were staring directly down at Will.

Initially, his first thought was to calm the child, ask what was wrong, but then, as he went to take a breath, he found that he couldn't. All at once, as he frantically tried to figure out how to breathe, he roused all of his recent memories back to the forefront of his mind. Awareness skyrocketed, as well as nerves, and he started off into an involuntary coughing fit. First, they were shallow, panicked ones, then they got deeper and louder as he went on, pushing water out and finally taking air back in. When he'd gathered enough oxygen to roll onto his chest, he did so, continuing with his uncontrollable coughing until he almost felt ready to gag. Everything was burning, raw, but he still felt so much better than he did before.

He wanted to push himself upright now, but his arms, shaking and numb, gave out from under him every time he tried. He floundered around like this for a good moment or two, his hands digging into the gravel to try and get more support, but the lack of any energy left within him made him give up pretty quick. Instead, he took another couple moments to get the rest of his breath back, taking in deep, labored gasps.

He could still look around a little from his spot on the floor, though, but not much stood out in the moonless, stormy night without the help of streetlights. So, once his breathing finally settled, Will tried again to sit himself up, having more success this time but still needing to keep a shaking support hand planted into the ground next to him. The longer he sat up, though, the more his body cried out for rest. As he lifted his heavy head up in defiance, eyes darting around to pick out more from this new environment, his gaze finally circled back to the kid, no, Lance.

"L-Lance...?" His voice was as weary and dulled as his eyes, though there was still a wavering hint of his overflowing panic he was otherwise too tired to express.

"I, we...what happened?" So much was still unprocessed in his mind, but there was undoubtedly one particularly big gap that he was missing.

"I, I only remember a river, and...something grabbing me..." Suddenly, a bit behind Lance, over his shoulder, a fish-like figure leapt harmlessly out and back into the middle of the river. Though safe on the riverbank, and the creature looking nothing like the silhouette of a Frillish, Will couldn't help but flinch and clamp his eyes shut. Within that moment, he was back in the river, paralyzed by the Frillish's venom, being dragged deeper into the depths and toward its ominous red eyes.

Ohh, how he so internally berated himself for how he was acting right now. He was already a kid in body again--he did not want to return to being a kid in mind too. So, once the flash of terror abated, he forced his eyes back open, albeit slowly.

As expected, the river's surface was empty again...but now Will finally took notice of something else that was still amiss.

"...Lance?" Now that he was fully cognizant, Will was able to properly register just how much emotion was spread across his Champion's soaked face.

Still, he was not thrown back onto the bed roughly. Though stern in his tone to Will, he again didn't detect any pure malice. Suspicion, perhaps, but Will expected that. It was everything else about this situation that he did not expect. It had his brain doing laps around the interior of his head, trying to divine how he could ever sort himself out of this mess.

"I need to find that doll...," Will concluded hollowly, staring down at his bare, battered chest. "I...may be injured, but..."

Carefully, he brought his good hand up closer to him, studying it for a minute or two as hesitation crept onto the corners of his eyes.

In spite of his feelings, Will coiled his hand tightly and focused, beginning to see the small beginnings of a ball of psychic shrapnel forming into his hand. Something about it was off in its formation, though. It was uneven, chunky, swirling irregularly in his palm, like an off-kilter top. It spun out just the same as one, too, spraying tiny, stray shards into his face.

The damage they did to his face was miniscule; he counted maybe one nick to his cheek, situated amongst the dozens of others that were already there from last night. It was what the attack did to his head that had his attention. The pain exploded as soon as he broke focus on his powers, surging through him like the aftershocks of an earthquake.

"I can't do it," he finally admitted, clutching his head with both fists, white-knuckled, hoping to grasp the pain itself and pull it out. It kept digging its way deeper into skull, just from that one little move, reverberating off of itself for what seemed to be indefinitely. Again he found himself in too much pain to notice the man returning to the room, food and medicine in his hands.

The sudden sound of mere metal trays clattering gently against wood now felt like a gunshot just got pumped through his temple. It reflected on Will's face as nothing but a light cringing and grasping at hair, but otherwise he stayed frozen in place, trying to ride the pain through. He didn't even look once at the food until the man began speaking about the hospital again.

Prescription-strength medicine?

It sounded so tempting right now, anything to cut into this creature of a migraine, but would it agree with his powers? They were already clearly awry as a result of his concussion, but their strength seemed severely diminished for the moment. He couldn't tell much about what kind of drug this was from the pills, either. Did he really want to risk it?

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a quick glimpse of his Xatu. She had kept her head turned slightly towards Will, and she now quickly raised her wing closer to her beak for a moment.

Even now, his Xatu's posture seemed completely relaxed, feathers perfectly smoothed; she'd  already returned to gazing out of the window, too. She gave him no other signs, and the food was going to get cold. So, again putting his faith into Xatu, Will nodded slightly and took the two pills. He ate what food he could, afraid to make his stomach too heavy when nausea was a real possibility. Not a word was uttered by him, either--not until he was finished. The hesitation to speak as Itsuki was still there, even when unmasked, but he felt he had to at least say something here.