Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Harmony stepped through the Hyperspace portal, her feet settling on the purple tinted cobblestone. There was a silence that settled against her ears. She looked around, usually able to hear pokemon in the distance. 

Then she saw it.

The Prism Tower shining in the distance. It was not ruined, its luster a bright beckon in the distance.

The city around her was devoid of scaffolding and wild pokemon. She looked around for a trainer or citizen. There were times the Hyperspace Lumiose turned out to be someone looking for help or a battle. She enjoyed the change of pace.

But they never showed up with a fixed Tower in the background.

Her Rotom phone floated in front of her, ready to call Corbeau for his opinion when two young kids ran in front of her. She didn’t recognize either of them. Her phone flew back into her satchel as she followed after the pair instead.

A young boy and girl, no more than ten years old if Harmony had to guess. The girl was slightly taller than the boy. Their faces and clothes were both covered in dirt and grime. The girl had a riolu following her around, and the boy was holding a venipede and had a shock of shaggy purple hair.

“No way, Corbeau?” Harmony called out.

The boy froze midstride, cautiously turning toward Harmony. Now that he was standing still she noticed a dirty cut across his cheek and his glasses were missing.

“Corbeau, why’d ya stop?” The little girl asked as she doubled back to his side, her riolu positioning itself in front of the two children.

Young Corbeau squinted at Harmony. She knew he couldn’t see well without his glasses at a distance so she took a few steps closer to the kids.

“Do ya know her?” The girl asked. She was eyeing Harmony with a well deserved suspicion.

“Don’t think so,” Corbeau said, and then venipede hissed at Harmony. The threatening sound alerted the riolu as well to attention. Corbeau’s grip tightened on the bug pokemon, as he turned away from her.

Harmony took a few steps back, her hands raised with his palms up defensively. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Harmony apologized. She reached to her belt, letting her freshly caught Budew from her pokeball. Embarrassingly, her Corbeau’s Roserade was on her mind when she caught the pokemon.

“Oh, so cute!” The girl squealed by moving closer to the budew. 

“Laina—don’t—!” Corbeau was still wary as his companion bent down to pat Harmony’s budew, causing it to release a puff of Sweet Scent.

“And, she smells nice, too!” Laina said with a giggle.

“How do you know my name?” Corbeau asked. He was still anchored in his same spot. Harmony wondered how to answer such a question. It was just a dream. None of it was real, and yet she seemed to find herself unable to lie. Unable to tell any Corbeau the smallest fib.

“This is a dream,” she eventually answered.

Corbeau scoffed, “no it's not.”

“I suppose not to you,” Harmony agreed as she stood up, holding budew in her arms. The little girl pouted, but she stood up as well.

Harmony could feel the familiar tug of the portal she came through. It sucked. She was curious about what kind of kid Corbeau was outside the stories Philippe was willing to tell. The whoosh of air around her pulled her back through Hoopa’s portal. As soon as she opened her eyes her phone was in her face, Corbeau’s ID flashing across the screen.

“This stays between us,” his voice was curt, not unlike the intimidating act he had put on for her and Lida when they first met.

“Normal people start calls with a ‘hello,’ not demands,” Harmony said, annoyed.

“Sorry, you’re right,” Corbeau apologized as he rearranged how his glasses sat on his nose, “Hello Harmony, good job, now never speak of what you just saw.”

“What, baby-you?” She teased, but Corbeau’s irritation did not fade with her joke.

“Yes, now leave it be and don’t pry.” Corbeau warned before hanging up the call.

Oh, well now she was going to pry.

*

Corbeau swiped his keycard and punched in his PIN. The elevator hummed to life as it took him up to the apartments on the top floor. There were a total of three, his, Philippe’s, and the last belonging to Laina.

He sighed, exhausted from another long day buried in research from Hyperspace surveys. He was barely able to conceal the anxiety caused by the danger brought on the city in front of Harmony. There were no clear answers. Even if taking down Ange had to be improvised there was at least a goal to return to peace. Could they even stop Hyperspace from existing? 

He unlocked the door to the third apartment; toed off his loafers and left them in the hall. If there was an emergency in the middle of the night Philippe would know where to find him. He shrugged out of his suit jacket, leaving it on the hook by the door as the front door closed with a soft click behind him.

“I’m finally free for the night,” he called out into the darkened apartment as he pulled the knot of his tie loose. He began to unbutton his dress shirt, leaving both undone as he stopped in the center of the living space.

Glaceon raised her head from where she was curled up on the sofa. 

“Hello, Glaceon,” Corbeau greeted the pokemon with a pat on her head, “and where is your partner?”

Glaceon stood up on the cushion, stretching her old bones before she hopped down and led Corbeau through the dark space. He frowned at his selfish desire to stop by now. It was too late for a visit.

Corbeau knocked on the bedroom door before he pushed it open. Glaceon entered first, and jumped up onto the foot of the bed.

The bedside lamp bathed the room in a warm glow, creating a halo around Laina’s form. She was quietly reading a novel before bed.

“Ah, here you are,” Corbeau said as he let his dress shirt fall from his shoulders and left it on the bed next to Glaceon with his tie. She sniffed the clothing and rested her head on top of them.

Laina smiled as she set her book down, “you expect me to stay up all night waiting for you?”

“Of course not,” he shook his head as the guilt bit into his chest, sharp and painful. He watched as she pulled back the covers on the opposite side of the bed, inviting him inside. He responded by undoing his belt and adding his slacks to the pile of his clothing. Glaceon let out a small cry before settling once more.

“How are you feeling?”

Laina shrugged as he crawled into bed, “more or less the same as always.”

Another sigh. Not sure why he expected there to be a change. Perhaps it was all the dream nonsense with Hyperspace. He knew better than to ever let his hopes run wild.

“What’s wrong with you?” Laina’s delicate hand reached out, cupping the side of his face. Her touch was cold, but he couldn’t ignore the warmth she woke up inside him with the simple gesture. He joined her under the covers, welcoming her into his space.

“Just tired,” he said as he shifted closer, their limbs tangling together as she rested against his chest. “Don’t worry about me.”

She laughed, her fingers tracing nonsensical patterns through his undershirt. “That’s right, all the worrying is meant for your shoulders only.”

“It’s better that way.”

“For who?”

Corbeau hummed, not wanting to continue down the path the conversation was headed. Laina’s energy was simply better used to stay healthy and out of the hospital. 

She was only safe under his watch.

Never again.

Chapter Text

The sun was shining high in the sky on a cloudless day. Philippe used his large hand to shade his eyes as he looked up when he heard his name shouted from one of the rooftops. His break time was precious to him, not wanting it to be disturbed. However, he couldn’t stop the smile from forming on his face as he watched Harmony float down from the rooftop with her Rotom Phone’s aid. 

“I’m not answering your questions,” Philippe said with a dismissive wave of his hand; he was in the room as that survey data came through, and the threatening phone call that followed.

He wasn’t going to break the Boss’s confidence. Surely, Harmony knew better than that.

“You should have seen him!” Harmony said, her energy more hyper than normal, “he was so small!” She brought her hand down to her hip as she mimed the height of the Hyperspace Corbeau she met the day prior.

“Yes, I saw the survey data,” he said as he took the lid off his to-go cup to cool the coffee. Maybe if he could get some of the black gold in his system he could keep up with her.

“R—right,” She smiled, “did you know him that long ago?”

He shook his head, “Not that young, no.” Perhaps if he did the Boss wouldn’t have been on the streets.

“Do you think he’s embarrassed I saw such an old memory?” Harmony was talking to herself, not even looking in his direction. Philippe should have left it there. 

“No, it’s not like it’s well kept secret,” he said as he finally took a sip of his coffee.

But if dreams from so long ago were being pulled up, what else did that put Harmony and the rest of Team MZ in the way of seeing? Not that Philippe was the kind of guy to be ashamed of his past. 

But the Boss seemed to enjoy the way Harmony looked at him.

Her approval was something he strived for. Philippe valued his life, so he declined on divulging that info to Harmony either.

*

“I want to go out tonight.”

Corbeau looked up from his laptop to find Laina standing in front of his workspace in her apartment. He closed the lid to his laptop, she deserved his undivided attention. He strummed his fingers against the top of the lid, the Hyperspace data still needed to be combed through. Corbeau bit the inside of his cheek, unwilling to waiver on either front. 

He finally looked up from the discarded work; she was dressed in an icy blue sweater that hung loose on her shoulders. Lucario was standing next to her, dutifully supporting her frame with a paw against her back and another under her elbow.

“Should I get your chair?” he asked as he stood up from the desk.

“I have more strength today,” her smile was soft, or Corbeau was just weak. Because he always believed her.

“Just the car, then,” he said as he rolled his sleeves back down. He frowned at the wrinkles. 

“Leave it,” she insisted, “you’re going to put your suit jacket on.”

“I have a reputation to uphold,” Corbeau rebuked her as he made his way to the door to collect his suit jacket. He could change into something more casual at any rate.

“Not with me.”

Corbeau rolled his eyes. She wasn’t going to win every argument. His pride still got in the way.

“Take her down to the car,” he said with a pat on Lucario’s head. He deposited the keys into her hand.

“I’ll be down in fifteen.”

*

Harmony walked through the poison portal into Hyperspace. She secretly kept targeting them to see if she could trigger another interaction with young Corbeau.

As soon as the fog cleared she saw the Prism Tower in its full former glory. She felt the excitement bubble up inside of her. If the men in her life were so emotionally unavailable to have an adult conversation with her she would just find her own answers. She wasn’t prying. It was Corbeau who asked for survey data after all

She made her way to Centrico Plaza, following down the main Bleu Street. It was odd to be able to travel down the street without it being interrupted by Wild Zones. She passed where the Rust Syndicate building stood in her timeline, a nondescript office building on the plot of land. It felt wrong to not see the imposing purple-black brick loom over the city. 

She walked through Blue Plaza toward the boring grey building and her phone floated in front of her face, stopping her in her tracks.

It was Corbeau.

She almost hung up on him.

“What?” She asked.

“What happened to answering with a hello?”

Harmony rolled her eyes, “Oh, so now we're concerned with social niceties?”

“Why are you being short with me?”

“Because I assume you’re calling to get mad at me about your past.”

Corbeau chuckled, “now whatever gave you that idea?”

He was so infuriating sometimes.

“Then why did you call?”

“Curiosity,” he answered simply, “The majority of the Hyperspace is the citizen’s reaction to Ange. But this is so far in the past.”

“Whose past? Yours?”

“Hard to say.”

“I don’t really buy that.”

“Why not? I am not the only person around back then,” her phone whipped around to the other side, dragging her gaze with it.

“See.”

Harmony looked past her phone screen, to find the man she came to know as L standing outside the building. He was much younger, his hair long and a bright ginger color.

“Who is he talking to?”

“Why don’t you go find out? You’re the one being nosy,” Corbeau immediately hung up the phone without giving her a chance to respond or defend herself.

Not that she had a good excuse.

She watched Lysandre carry himself with more grace and authority than L ever did. Not intimidated in the slightest by the goons in black as he won each pokemon battle with his Gyarados alone.

Was this Lysandre the philanthropist? Or Lysandre the nihilist?

The defeated guards stepped away, allowing Lysandre to walk inside.

That was new. Harmony never was able to walk into a building in Hyperspace.

She stumbled out of her hiding spot to give chase. The grunts on the door quickly noticed her and stepped in her way.

“Monsieur Lysandre!” She called after him, but he didn’t respond. The grunts in black tossed out their pokemon — a grimer and a koffing as the portal closed around her, the dream fading to nothing more than a memory once more.

“No!” She cried out, frustrated as she fell to her knees. Hoopa floated down next to her, his hand on her shoulder in comfort.

“Hope you’re hungry, Hoopa,” she said as a new determination ignited in her.

The Mischief Pokemon laughed as they made their way down the alley to the next portal.

*

“That's unfortunate,” Corbeau muttered as the data stream from Hyperspace faded with Harmony's ejection. 

“Boss, I thought you didn't want her looking into your past?” Philippe asked for clarification. 

“I don't,” Corbeau said as he folded his hands in his lap. “But this wasn't me. It looks like L has contributed to the Hyperspace.”

“Was he there to talk to who I think he was?” 

“Yes, I believe he was on his way to speak with the leader of Team Rocket. “

Chapter Text

Laina shifted her weight onto her arms as she propped herself up on the kitchen counter. She balled her hands into fists, taking the stress off her wrists, gravity taking over to stretch her spine. She let out a groan, determined not to crumble to the floor.

“Slow…” Her Galarian Slowking showed her worry as it used Psychic to hold her suspended in the air. She set her hand on the shell crown as thanks. The oven timer beeped loudly, tearing her attention from her pain for a moment.

“Let me get them,” she said as she motioned for the pokemon to place her back down. She opened the oven, removing the baking sheet to cool.

Lucario came into the kitchen with her wheelchair, his eyes narrowed on her as he silently motioned for her to sit. She shook her head. “Not now.” 

Lucario moved to where she was, his paw placed square on her chest as his eyes began to glow with a silver-blue light.

“You push yourself too hard, and you’ll never be well enough to go to dinner tonight,” Lucario’s voice echoed in her head.

She frowned and sat down, her lower back finally finding the relief she was desperate for.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she apologized with a pat on his head. Lucario let out a happy bark in response. 

She called up her light blue Rotom Phone as Slowking and Lucario worked on placing the cookies on the cooling rack.

“Hello, Miss Laina,” Philippe answered at the other end of her phone call. Her brow knotted together as she double checked the number she dialed.

“The Boss is in a meeting with Team MZ at the moment,” Philippe clarified without further prompting, “he set his calls to forward to me.”

“Even mine?” She felt her frown deepen, everything unraveling at her feet.

“It’s, uh,” Philippe’s steely eyes darted from side to side. He was hardly the kind of person to be caught off guard by a simple question, “there have been some difficult developments with Hyperspace.”

“Does he know what today even is?”

“It’s Miss Joy’s birthday,” Philippe answered and a wave of relief washed over Laina like a balm.

“Is that you answering as his scheduler?”

“No, he has brought it up several times today,” Philippe assured her worry away.

She nodded. It did make sense, to let him get the Hyperspace business out of the way before it interrupted their dinner with Joy. “I won’t bother him, then.”

“You never bother him, Miss Laina.”

*

“If you’re going to keep meddling in dreams that don’t concern you, I am coming with you,” Corbeau insisted, angry lines creasing his brow as he attempted to look down at Harmony.

Harmony shrugged her shoulders, “do you realize I have little control with what actually manifests inside Hyperspace?”

Golden eyes narrowed on her, “Yes, I realize that. Doesn’t change my stance on the matter.”

“Fine, at least you won’t be interrupting me all the time with calls,” she said as she handed off the calorie dense donut to Hoopa. By her assumptions she would have more than enough time inside Hyperspace without being rudely torn away by the pokemon’s empty stomach.

To his credit, Corbeau followed her silently into the portal. 

The pair ended up in front of Restaurant Le Wow, leaving the undamaged tower off to their left. Harmony tried to contain her elation for Hoopa’s ability to send them to the right place yet again. 

“Hm, this appears to be from my teenage years,” Corbeau stated as he readjusted his glasses on his face.

“What? How can you tell?”

He motioned toward an advertisement on the side of the shopping center, it was brightly colored with a nonsensical design on the clothing it was showing off. It was a brand from Unova.

“This style was very popular, not that I had the means to afford it back then,” he said as if it wasn’t an incredibly sad thing to admit. Harmony felt the ache in her chest grow as it finally dawned on her what she kept doing.

“Is this painful for you to relive?”

“What?” Corbeau was startled by her question, “N—no. It’s just a fact of my life.”

“Okay,” she wanted to trust him, but he refused to look at her directly as he spoke. She shook her head, she wouldn’t pry more than he was willing to divulge. The Hyperspace would hopefully provide the path to her answers.

Harmony went to turn down the street toward the Prism Tower, but Corbeau moved in the opposite direction toward the outer ring of the city. She quickly followed after him, unsure if she should say anything. His gate was stiff as he walked, like his anger over the Hyperspace manifesting so far in the past was the only thing driving him. She couldn’t think of a time she ever saw him wear his emotions in the open. 

There was more to his past he wasn’t keen on sharing. He didn’t seem to care about the fact that she knew he was a homeless orphan. But he was keeping something from her. Was it Lysandre? Was it that old building where the Rust Syndicate now stood?  Is that why he went in the other direction?

“Miss Joy!” 

Corbeau froze as he heard the young feminine voice call out in front of the northernmost Pokemon Center in the city. Harmony, distracted by the source of the voice bumped into him.

“A little warning would have been great,” Harmony complained as she pushed at his shoulder, but he wouldn’t budge, paralyzed in place like he got hit straight on by a Thunderbolt.

“Eh? Corbeau?”

“It’s Miss Joy’s fifty-fifth birthday today,” was the only answer he provided.

Harmony looked over Corbeau’s shoulder to find a younger nurse outside the Pokemon Center. The young lady she was talking to looked vaguely familiar to Harmony. She held an eevee —who was smaller than average— in her arms, a riolu at her side.

“Miss Joy, Miss Joy! Budew finally evolved!”

Miss Joy politely covered her mouth as she suppressed her giggles, “and where is Corbeau?”

“Oh, that’s the little girl from the first time. Laina?”

Corbeau didn’t respond to her, instead watching intently as his younger self emerged from the shadows of the nearby alley, a small bouquet of red and blue roses in his grasp, matching the roselia that followed behind him.

“Happy birthday, Miss Joy,” the young teen said as he held the flowers out to the nurse. She smiled sweetly as she took the bouquet.

“Oh, you two didn’t have to give me anything. Seeing you and your pokemon healthy is enough of a gift for me,” she said as she bent down to give the two young teens a hug.

“Now come inside, and let's get you two cleaned up and fed. It’s going to be a cold one tonight.”

Corbeau was silent as he let his head fall forward, casting a shadow over his face. His fist clenched at his side, trying to defuse the anger inside of him. It seemed like a good memory to Harmony. A sweet celebration for someone close to Corbeau in his childhood. She reached out, her fingers wrapping around the shaking fist. Corbeau jerked away, staring down at their joined hands, before wide gold locked his gaze with hers.

“Something’s wrong,” Harmony said, as she closed the distance between the two of them. Her free hand settled against his shoulder, snapping him back to the reality unfolding around them. His breathing was shallow as a small tremor shook through him.

“This is—” he was cut off with the sound of the foliage next to them rustling. Out shot a raticate and golbat, followed by an adult dressed in all black. They were blindingly fast, as they made straight for the Pokemon Center.

Corbeau ripped himself from Harmony’s hold as he gave chase. “It’s her birthday, dammit!” He yelled as he reached for the pokeballs in his coat, “Scolipede, let’s go! X-Scissor!”

The man in black whipped around, ordering his golbat to take the brunt of the hit as raticate continued on. It took a stunned Harmony another moment to gather her wits. “Right,” she nodded as she pulled her partner’s pokeball free, “come on, Meganium, Bullet Seed!”

The two enemy pokemon fainted without attacks of their own. The man in black recalled his pokemon, and without a response to either trainer he disappeared into Hyperspace, his body dissolving into the mist.

Harmony barely had a moment to register how the trainer faded as Corbeau continued in a full sprint toward the Pokemon Center. 

“Are you all right?!” There was no hiding the panic in Corbeau’s voice as he checked on the children before his attention turned to the nurse, “You’re not hurt are you?”

Harmony reached the Pokemon Center just as the pull of the portal started to tug at her soul. “Corbeau, we—”

“No, no, no,” he scrambled for Miss Joy’s hands, holding them firmly in his grasp. There were tears collecting in his eyes, his face now red with anger, “you’re fine now, Miss Joy. You—”

Harmony’s vision whited out as the portal tugged them back where they had entered. The static loud in her ears before it gave way to the comforting busy sounds of Lumiose around her.

Corbeau let out a guttural scream, the anger overflowing into madness, as his knees buckled under him. He was always the picture perfect image of equanimity in any situation, now consumed by anything but.

“I was strong enough this time, I saved her, I—”

Harmony dropped to her knees, as she reached out to take Corbeau’s hands once more. He shook as he looked up at her, pupils blown wide as his eyes shifted side to side wildly. His brow knitted together.

“Harmony? Why are you—” He shook his head, his breathing slowly returning to normal. A shred of composure fell over his face. He cleared his throat, his grip tightening on her hands. Scolipede came close, nudging Corbeau’s cheek with his beak. Finally Corbeau grounded himself.

That moment in Hyperspace wasn’t a dream.

Corbeau relived a nightmare.

*

Corbeau took a deep breath as he stared at his reflection in the steel elevator door. There were heavy bags under his eyes, barely hidden by the concealer on his skin. Cortisol was still vibrating restless through his veins. The memories he was forced to relive in Hyperspace lingering in front of his thoughts.

What was worse, was that Harmony had to witness his weakness in the aftermath. He flexed his hands inside his pockets, able to still feel the gentle touch against his skin.

How embarrassing. All his knowledge of Hyperspace proved useless when confronted with the shame he still carried over a decade later. He should forgive himself, he was a child after all. What could he have realistically done?

The soft chime of the elevator arriving at the underground parking pulled Corbeau from his spiral. When the doors opened he found Remy, the Syndicate grunt functioning as his chauffeur for the night, had pulled the towncar around. He could see Laina’s faint outline through the tinted backseat windows.

Remy opened the door for Corbeau; he slid into the back bench seat next to Laina, who held a bouquet of red and blue roses and a basket of homemade cookies on her lap.

“Sorry you had to wait,” Corbeau apologized with a chaste kiss on her cheek.

“You’re fine, we’re not late —yet,” she teased as she looked in his direction. Her brow knitted together as she reached out to cup the side of his face in her palm. She ran her thumb across his cheekbone, bumping the frames off his nose. He closed his eyes in response to the touch.

Corbeau wasn’t sure why he attempted to hide from her. Even in the dim light of the cabin, as the streetlight slid across his face she could see it.

“This Hyperspace thing is really hard on you, isn’t it?”

Corbeau turned his head, laying a kiss to her palm before holding it in his lap. He looked past her out into the city as it sped by.

“Let’s just focus on tonight.”

She sighed, “you don’t have to hide things from me. I know it’s not going well.” She shifted close to him on the bench seat, her head settling against his shoulder.

“You don’t need—”

“To worry, I know,” she cut in, her tone flat, “it’s all over your face.”

Corbeau pressed his lips into her crown. He already had to bear the memory all over again as a fresh wound. There was not a single reason he could think of burdening her with the same pain.

The car came to a stop outside of Wild Zone 4, the looming tombstones hard to make out through the holofields. Remy came around to open the door and they exited. He let Roserade out of her ball before walking through the gate. Laina handed the bouquet off to him to hold before lacing her fingers with his. 

Registered Pokemon Nurse Joy of North Boulevard Pokemon Center has died from her injuries she sustained after an apparent break in at the Center. The victim was celebrating her forty-third birthday the night of the attack.

*

The flashing lights of the first responder vehicles bounced off the bricks of the alley out of direct view of the Pokemon Center. The red-blue of the lights blurred his vision causing Corbeau’s head to throb. Up on the fire escape he held tight to Laina, her soft sobs muffled by his shirt as she buried her face into his shoulder. 

Whirlipede and Roselia ached in their pokeballs. He needed to get them to a Pokemon Center soon.

Anger simmered just under his skin, the warmth of adrenaline fading as the cold of the night settled in.

“Com’n Laina, we gotta go,” he coaxed her off his shoulder; with his sleeve he dried the tears from her puffy eyes. She nodded, choking off the sobs that kept her silent.

When Corbeau’s feet hit the pavement there was a bright flash of headlights drowning out his vision. He immediately winced, sealing his eyes shut. He heard Laina’s feet hit the ground behind him as she jumped the last few feet off the ladder.

In front of him he heard the click of a car door opening heavy on its hinges. There were solid footsteps, their timing told him it was the gate of a taller than average male. He reached out behind him, finding Laina’s hand in his blindness. He held tight as she stepped closer to him.

“Who’s there?!” He demanded, his eyes refusing to open to the pain of the lights.

The footsteps came to a scratching stop on the pavement in front of Corbeau. The man was shielding him from the onslaught of the headlights, allowing Corbeau to finally open his eyes.

The figure in front of him was tall and boxy, his wide shoulders holding his arms neatly behind his back.

“I’m a friend of Miss Joy’s,” The man replied. His tone was even and inviting. Corbeau rubbed his light bleached eyes in an attempt to get his poor vision to focus.

The man was too far away.

“Why don’t you two come with me, and we can wait for her to recover together.”

Laina took a step forward, not getting far before Corbeau pulled her back to his side.

“It’s too cold for you to be outside tonight,” the man added with an outstretched hand.

The cold ripped through his threadbare clothing. He knew he needed to find a warm place to stay. For his fainted pokemon. For Laina. Slowly, he took cautious steps toward the man; he felt his shoulders pinch together when the man’s hand came down to sit solidly against the nape of his neck as he was directed toward the waiting towncar.

Inside the dark leather seats were warm and inviting. With the aid of the overhead cab light Corbeau could make out a large red R embroidered onto the breast pocket of the man’s suit before the door closed, bathing them in darkness once more.

Chapter Text

The sun was still low on the horizon, trainers inside the battle zones scrambling to get one more match in before the sun bathed the tower in a bright pink glow. Harmony loved catching the dawn against the ruined tower, the colors playing tricks on her eyes to bring out its former glory. A sight she got used to seeing in Hyperspace — a sight she now dreaded to find waiting for her.

Her heart clenched tight in her chest as the image of tears filling golden eyes plagued her. The man she looked to lead her was destroyed so thoroughly by the nightmares of his past.

She found herself avoiding Hyperspace as much as possible, letting Urbain or Korrina take the lead on the surveying. What portals she did go through she focused solely on the pokemon she could find for Mable instead. She even helped defeat two new Rouge Megas — Staraptor and Tatsugiri. The second one took place in an alternate version of High Roller, and made everyone crave sushi so bad afterwards that the Rust Syndicate treated the whole team to dinner.

Now she stood in front of another poison-type portal, afraid to see what was on the other side.

Afraid to bring her friend any more pain.

“Let’s try for a midsized portal, what do you say, Hoopa?”

The Mischief Pokemon took the tricolored Charti donut from her, devouring it in two bites. He tossed his rings into the miasma, the portal opening wide for her to step through.

Harmony found herself standing in Bleu Plaza once more, the nondescript office building standing in the Rust Syndicate’s footprint.

She quickly crossed the street to find the same guys in all black guarding the door. Their koffing and grimer went down with little trouble for the Garganacl she had caught a few days prior. 

She pulled at the door, surprised it opened freely. The lobby was pretty drab, the lack of natural light and neutral beige colors were boring to look at. She stepped on the escalator to the second floor when she caught a glimpse of teenage Corbeau exit through a door on the far end of the reception floor. 

Curiously she made her way over to the door; frustrated to find a keypad barring her path forward. 

She groaned — there was no time to waste.

Her Rotom phone floated next to her as she contemplated letting Raichu hit it with a well placed Thunderbolt — any alarms be damned.

“Would you like some assistance?”

She jumped at the sudden sound of Corbeau’s voice, causing him to let out a laugh at her expense.

At least he was in a better mood.

“You remember a code from your childhood?”

“Of course, you don’t?”

“No!” She giggled and placed her hand over her heart, “I’m normal.”

Corbeau rolled his eyes, “clock is ticking, Harmony.”

“So stop wasting time!”

“Three One Five Five Four Five.”

She punched in the numbers as they were relayed to her, smirking to herself. Roselia and Scolipede’s National Pokedex numbers.

“Don’t say it. I was thirteen.” Corbeau barked back before hanging up the phone.

“Yep, goodbye to you, too!” she muttered to herself as the door opened with a soft click.

On the other side of the security checkpoint there were three halls in front of her. There were no sounds, the only hint of life was a savory smell coming from the hall to her left.

When in doubt, go where the food is.

At the end of the hall there was in fact an industrial kitchen. Peering through the oval window in the swinging traffic door she found teenage Corbeau with two adults — the chef and another middle-aged man dressed in a dark suit. The trio was gathered around a stainless steel prep station, with a Galarian Slowpoke laying on the counter. The pokemon seemed to be in pain, its usual aloof expression replaced with a tight grimace.

“Is there nothing else you can try?” The man in the suit asked as he roughly moved the slowpoke’s head to the side, causing them to let out a pitiful cry.

Harmony had to physically bite down on her tongue to stop from yelling in protest. She felt her frustration grow as Corbeau seemed to be unfazed, his attention on the clipboard in his hand instead.

“Unfortunately not, multiple attempts have been made to remove the poison from the flesh, but none of the different styles of preparation have been successful,” the chef replied.

“What useless things, they’re not even poison-type,” the man in the suit clicked his tongue.

“Corbeau.”

“Yessir?”

“Who is the miserable soul who was talked into purchasing these sorry imitations of a Kantonian Slowpoke?”

Corbeau shuffled the papers on his clipboard before producing the report for the man, “it appears to be Purchasing Admin Travis, sir.” He adjusted his new glasses on his face.

The man looked over the report once before handing it back to Corbeau. He looked unimpressed.

“Set up a meeting in my office so we can have a little chat.”

Corbeau nodded as he returned the report neatly to his clipboard. “Yessir, and the slowpoke?”

“Arrange to have them dumped a few routes over so they cannot be traced back to the city.”

“Yessir,” Corbeau and the chef answered in unison.

Harmony felt hot. Her anger increased with each passing beat until it overflowed in a frustrated scream, loud and forceful. She pushed at the doors, causing them to swing loudly into the walls before bouncing off and swinging behind her. All three of them startled at the outburst.

“Who the hell—”

The man in the suit chuckled. 

“Meddlesome. Corbeau, if you could please take care of this brat.”

Harmony could hear the pulse in her ears, those gold eyes she knew so well staring at her with an indifference. As if he was annoyed more than anything. 

Roselia was the first pokemon he called forward, her features as impassive as her trainer’s. Harmony called out the Staraptor she had caught after the Rouge Mega Evolution battle. His talons and beak were sharp, ready to tear the grass pokemon in front of him to shreds.

Her battles with her Corbeau always felt like a dance. The rhythm of attacks, both connections and the near misses, flowing with an excitement Harmony never was able to replicate with anyone else. A burning hot passion that melted their souls together, mixing them in a way that could never be separated.

Now — now she saw a different kind of red heat. Hyperspace Corbeau looked at her with a venom that wanted her dead.

And he was just a kid.

The poor pokemon did nothing to deserve this fate.

“Staraptor, let’s go — Dual Wingbeat!”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the man in the suit slip out a side door with the chef. 

“Hey wait! Staraptor, after them.” The bird let out a cry as he changed direction toward the door.

“Roselia, Gunk Shot.”

The sticky purple poison covered Staraptor’s wings, dropping him from the air.

“Sorry, Miss, you’re not going anywhere.”

*

The memory was exactly what he didn’t want Harmony to see. He could use all the excuses in the book: I was a kid, I had no choice, I didn’t truly understand, We all need to survive.

But he knew she would have none of it. There was nothing but a blind-white rage reading from her Hyperspace output.

And he knew from tracking data she only had one destination in mind once she returned.

“We can stop her in the lobby,” Philippe offered.

Corbeau shook his head, “that won’t be necessary.”

He had no qualms with his past. He made every decision of his own volition, no one forced him into that car that night. No one made him work for a known smuggler and crime boss. 

He always had to live with that.

And they both had to stop pretending he wasn’t exactly the kid she encountered at Giovanni’s side.

The soft whir of the elevator coming to life drew his attention. 

The game was up.

“Give us some privacy,” Corbeau told Philippe as he removed his suit jacket, laying it over the back of his chair. He undid his cufflinks, rolling his sleeves to his elbows.

“Are you sure, Boss?” 

Corbeau leaned against the front of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I can handle a conversation between two adults.”

Corbeau watched as Philippe and Harmony changed places in the elevator. They exchanged looks, she spared none of the anger in her eyes for the innocent party. Her rage hadn’t subsided in the slightest. What a clumsy mistake.

“You bastard!” She shouted, breaking into a sprint her fist raised.

“Harmony, please; don’t be ridiculous,” Corbeau said with a huff, catching her wildly swung fist in his left hand. A quick twist of her arm sent her to her knees involuntarily.

“Is this how you greet someone?”

Her face contorted into a snarl as she flicked her bangs from her face with a hot puff of breath. He dropped her fist and she grabbed at her shoulder in return.

“Poachers, Corbeau!” she growled, still on her knees.

Corbeau stayed silent as he moved across his office, leaving Harmony a crumbled pile in front of his desk.

“Corbeau, answer me!” she demanded, her voice dry and scratchy from the yelling.

He opened the drawer of one of the console tables along the wall, pulling out an instant ice pack. He cracked it in two, the chemical reaction made the cold seep into his fingers.

“Sit.”

She obstinately stayed where she knelt.

“Sit,” he repeated, more forcefully as he pointed to one of the sofas with the pack. She grunted as she stood, her balance unsteady.

Maybe he twisted too hard.

He waited for her to sit down on the sofa and dropped the cold pack in her lap before taking a seat across from her.

She held the ice to her shoulder, trying her best to hide the wince when she attempted to move her arm. She wouldn’t look at him.

He deserved that.

“How could you?” She asked, softer. There were tears in her eyes, from the pain or betrayal Corbeau couldn’t be certain.

“Work for the man who saved me from the streets,” Corbeau offered. He leaned back in the deep sofa, “is that your question?” 

Harmony shook her head, a sharp no. She worked the corner of her lips between her teeth.

“See, if we think about things rationally—”

“Oh, fuck you!” She bit back, tossing the ice pack at his head. He moved out of the way, the improvised projectile barely missing the vase behind him as it came to a skidding stop on the gravel battle field.

“Careful, no need for violence,” he said as he stood up to retrieve the pack.

“You literally twisted my arm,” she argued back, her tone far less biting as it had been. She pulled her feet up on the sofa, her sneakers scraping against the leather. 

Some things could be let go, he reminded himself.

“In self defense,” he added as he once again handed the cold pack off.

“I hate you.”

She didn’t.

“You should.”

Her gaze was stuck on the center of the table between the sofas, “why?”

“Because that’s who I am,” his voice came out calm and even.

“No, it’s not!” She snapped, her face red and angry, “it’s not you—not then, and certainly not now.”

Corbeau dropped onto the cushion next to her, “you’re only saying that because I kept the truth from you.”

“Would you cut off a Slowpoke Tail right now?” She stood up, bravely ignoring her injured arm as she loomed over him.

He let his guard down. 

He chuckled at the thought. She had her way with him, and she wasn’t even conscious of the fact. No wonder he was on the losing end of their pokemon battles more often than not.

“What’s so funny?” she huffed.

“Of course not, I wouldn’t then or now.”

“Then why?”

“What other choice did I have?”

*

It was past supper time, and Laina knew exactly where to find Corbeau. She opened the door to his “not-technically-a-closet office” off the hall from Giovanni’s actual, quite spacious office. She didn’t knock first, because she never did, waltzing in like she owned the space.

“Your food is going to get cold,” she said as she sat the supper down next to his keyboard. His eyes shifted to his food before rubberbanding back to the computer screen.

“What’s so important that you won’t eat?” She tried to take a peak, but the browser minimized before she saw anything. “Food. Eat.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Corbeau muttered and picked up the rice bowl, shoveling it into his mouth in between clicks on the mouse.

“Oh, I have a gift for you,” Corbeau said as he tried to catch stray rice grains that fell as he spoke.

She giggled as she held out a napkin for him, “for me?”

“Yeah, Giovanni got these rare pokemon from Galar, told me to figure out what to do with them, so,” he shrugged as he held out a dusk ball in the palm of his hand, “he already gave me Ekans, so I thought it would be good for you to have a new friend, too.”

“Oh!” She could barely contain her excitement as she took the ball from him. A pokemon from Galar? That was so far away. She wondered what it could be as the purple-black from the pokeball gave way to the pokemon inside.

She recognized the derpy face as slowpoke, the top of their head yellow. They took one look at her, a long drawn out pause before they smiled up at her. Then she noticed it, their tail bandaged in an untrained manner, as there was blood seeping through the white linen.

“You poor thing,” she said as she dropped to her knees, cradling their fat pink cheeks in her hands. “What happened to you?”

“He was injured,” Corbeau eventually answered, “the others are all okay, but I figured this one needed Laina’s Tender Loving Care to get better.”

She looked up at Corbeau, he was watching her carefully, as if he was unsure how she would respond to getting a hurt pokemon. She smiled at him, she wanted him to believe he made the right call.

She leaned forward, resting her head against the yellow forehead. “OK, I’ll make sure you get better, Slowpoke.

“I promise.”

Chapter Text

Philippe took his seat on the patio at Cafe Gallant, Manny bringing him his usual cup of their dark roast and some galette. It was nice to get fresh air after not seeing much but the walls of the Boss’s office for the last few days. The sun’s rays soaked into his dark suit, the warmth settling into him like a cozy hug. Skarmory stretched his wings next to him, chirping happily.

“If you want to get into the middle of their squabble, be my guest,” Philippe told his partner with a dismissive wave of his hand, “I’m on break.”

Skarmory let out a battle cry as he took flight, joining the Boss’s side across the street. Corbeau let out a hearty chuckle as Skarmory landed at his side, rewarding the pokemon with a friendly stroke against his metal beak.

“Want to help me finish this, huh?” Corbeau asked; Skarmory hopped gladly in response.

“No way!” Harmony yelled from the other side of their impromptu arena, “you can’t change your team in the middle of battle!”

“Honey, I’m the boss of the Rust Syndicate, in this city I can do whatever I please.”

Philippe shook his head as they continued to bicker over the legality or etiquette of pokemon battles. The pair had been battling for well over an hour at a pace that only Jacinthe could appreciate. 

In battle they didn’t have time to get stuck in their own heads. The trust in each other shaped a new unshakeable foundation. If Harmony wanted answers Corbeau knew she was a tried-and-true ally to let into his circle.

Into his life.

Philippe set his empty coffee cup down on the saucer as Corbeau made his way toward him, wearing the badge of victory Skarmory provided him. Harmony hung behind across the street, doting on her Meganium after a well fought battle. 

“Have you settled everything?” Philippe asked as Corbeau took a seat at the table. 

“For now,” Corbeau said, his attention turning to Manny as he brought two cups of coffee to the table, “Appreciate the prompt service as always, Manny.”

“Thank you, Mr. Corbeau. Serving the Rust Syndicate is my pleasure.” 

“Will you be joining her in Hyperspace again?” Philippe asked once Manny walked away from the table. 

“Why do you ask?” 

Philippe called up his phone, sending Corbeau the summary of his latest research hypothesis on Hyperspace.

“From what I can tell, when you are in Hyperspace it doesn’t have access to your subconscious. The day of the Miss Joy incident, Miss Laina had attempted to call you. From what I could gather she seemed pretty anxious about dinner that evening.

“And if you’ll forgive me for being so forward,” Philippe paused his explanation as he took a sip from his second cup of coffee. He waited for the Boss to catch up reading his report. Golden eyes narrowed on the phone screen in front of his own face. Philippe set his mug down, allowing for things to settle between them.

“When the battle zones manifest, they’re full of trainers obsessing over defeat. And I know how important Harmony’s opinion is to you — I think that worry, no matter how subconscious it is, caused the Slowpoke portal to open.” 

Corbeau adjusted his glasses on his face and let out a small huff, “are you insinuating I am obsessing over Harmony?”

Philippe cleared his throat, “no, Boss.”

Then Harmony made her way across the street, as if she was waiting for her cue to cross only once Corbeau was seeped in embarrassment.

She was back to her bubbly self, the underhanded defeat rolling off her shoulders like it didn’t matter. Bravely she swiped the galette off Corbeau’s plate, stuffing the dessert in her mouth.

“Well, it’s been fun gentlemen,” she said, brushing the crumbs from the corner of her lips, “but I’m going to check out some portals.”

“I’m coming with you,” Corbeau told her, his tone flat. He refused to look at her, or acknowledge the pink blush Philippe noticed dusting the top of his ears. 

Philippe took another sip of his coffee to stop the smile from fully forming across his face.

*

Laina let out a groan, her head starting to throb in pain. She had gotten caught up in the mild weather, able to wander the streets without it taxing her. Her fingers curled around her shopping bag, the other feeling blindly for Lucario’s paw. The pokemon let out a concerned cry, guiding her to the closest bench to sit down.

There was a sharp pain emanating from her cervical spine and racing down her arms all the way through her fingertips. Lucario took the dusk ball from her waistbelt, letting Slowking out for assistance. Laina doubled over at the waist, her arms dangling uselessly toward the ground. Slowking’s paw froze in a wound up Ice Punch; however, he gently placed his cold forearm in between her shoulder blades. The over excited nerves froze, numbing the pain and allowing her to breathe and sit back up.

She took in her surroundings, Nouveau’s Cafe truck sitting in the plaza. Charizard was napping in the shade of the fading afternoon sun as Griselle tried to keep up with the large number of patrons.

She was annoyingly too far away from home to make it back on her own. There were two options in front of her: bother Grisham, or worry Corbeau. While neither was ideal, she certainly did not want to end up with Corbeau needlessly doting on her.

Slowking handed her a small vial of purple liquid, a potent concoction of its own poison. It had one of those paradoxical healing properties on her often angry nerves.

But it tasted like it was scrapped out of the inside of a Garbador.

With Lucario’s help she was able to stand, to make her way over to the cafe truck. Grisham gave her one of his patent smiles as soon as he saw her.

“Hello, Laina,” he greeted her, “how are you doing today?”

She rolled her shoulderblades, still efficiently numbed to the pain. “I have certainly had better days,” she said with a sigh as she held out the vial, “a Burn Up roast would be great right about now.”

He knowingly took the vial, the smile never leaving his face, “Please take a seat, I’ll have Griselle bring it to you in a moment.”

She sat down at one of the patio benches fashioned from shipping crates, the available pillow cradling her back.

“One medicated Burn Up for the Lost Wooloo,” Griselle bit out as she placed the coffee to-go cup in front of her.

Laina rolled her eyes as she took a sip of the coffee, the bitter bean concealing the medicinal poison perfectly.

“I swear, Griselle. You would be way better as an Ice Type trainer with that heart of yours.”

She shrugged her shoulders, unpulsed by the chiding remark. “Where is your over protective sheppard? He’s not one to let you roam around on your own.”

Laina felt the anger build a fire in the pit of her stomach. It was hardly her fault Lysandre always gave Corbeau (and by extension, her) more attention. Grisham, ever the pragmatist, let it go a long time ago.

Griselle didn’t know a grudge she couldn’t hold onto forever. Perhaps Fire Types were her forte for a reason.

“Busy saving this city, as always,” she said, smirking over the lid of her coffee cup before taking another sip. The poison acted fast, taking the pain away by desensitizing her very consciousness of it.

Griselle let out a frustrated huff, “whatever. I have actual customers to help.”

She turned away sharply, returning to the truck to retrieve the next round of orders. Lania shook her head, her gaze settling on the swirling miasma above the ruined Prism Tower. It pulsed wildly in the sky; followed by a sharp pain behind her eyes. Lania looked down at her drink, the pain receding just as fast as it appeared.

*

Harmony once again stood on the other side of the security checkpoint in Hyperspace Lumiose’s most nondescript office building. It was almost amusing to her how in your face the Rust Syndicate building was compared to it. This was the building a teenage Corbeau learned How To Crime in, and decided that being loud and obvious was a better way to earn the people’s trust and support. 

But to compare Rust Syndicate and their actual goodwill to Team Rocket seemed misplaced to begin with.

And she had told herself that night when she fell asleep on the black leather sofa, her sprained shoulder numbed by whatever absolutely noxious medicine Corbeau provided, that she was going to forgive him.

How could she not?

Harmony took a deep breath, willing her cheeks to cool off as she stared ahead, the same three options to walk down and explore. To her left were the kitchens she decidedly never wanted to see again. Straight ahead gave access to the rest of the floor. To her right, the hall was short and led to a stairwell. 

“Stairs lead to where?” Harmony asked as she turned to Corbeau. He already had decided on the long hallway that laid ahead of them.

“Basement,” Corbeau said, uninterested.

She picked up the pace to return to his side, he was moving quickly down the hall with purpose. “Basements always have secrets.”

“All of which I am well aware of,” Corbeau reminded her, his gaze stubbornly fixed in front of him.

“If Philippe is right then you being in here means this isn’t based on your memories.”

“Correct, so who is creating this building in the first place?” Corbeau said; he finally turned around to face her. His brow was raised, like he expected her to have the answer.

“Lysandre,” was the only thing she had to offer, the realization dawning on her. He was the one who drew her attention to what laid beyond the office facade in the first place.

“Have you met with L in Ange’s aftermath?”

Harmony shook her head no. In fact she hadn’t even thought of him once since Zygarde had Mega Evolved under her trust.

“Do you think he’s still in the city?”

Corbeau shrugged his shoulders, “that’s what I’m curious about.”

At the end of the hall it branched again in a “T” shape. Corbeau leaned against the wall deep in thought.

“Lysandre funded the demolition of this building after Team Rocket abandoned it. What I didn’t know is that he had dealings here prior to that,” Corbeau wasn’t talking to her as much as he was thinking out loud. Worn, angry lines creased his brow.

Harmony leaned against the wall next to him. His gaze focused on her for the first time since they entered the building. He opened his mouth to say something before it snapped shut instead.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

He sighed and shook his head, “like I said, I was aware of everything that happened in these walls. Or so I thought.”

Corbeau called up his phone, “Philippe, please reach out to our PSYSEC Unit and see if they can locate L.”

“Would you like him brought in?”

“Not yet. But get a trace on him.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Thank you,” Corbeau said as his phone returned to his pocket.

“Do you really think that is necessary?” Harmony asked.

“It’s better to be over prepared and not need something,” Corbeau answered before heading down the hall, “Come on, Giovanni’s office is down this way.”

At the end of the hall there was an executive suite, two men dressed in black standing guard outside. Harmony pulled out Meganium’s pokeball ready to battle when Corbeau’s fingers encircled her wrist, stopping her movements.

“That’s not going to be necessary,” he said as he led her into another office.

The space was tight, too cramped for two adults to stand in without stepping on each other’s toes. There was a small desk in the middle with an ancient old computer and monitor. Corbeau took a seat at the desk, digging around in the drawers with precision.

“This was your office?” Harmony asked as it dawned on her. She could hardly stop the laugh from breaking past her lips. 

Golden eyes narrowed on her before he pulled out a radio receiver, “I was rewarded this office for being the best assistant to Giovanni,” he said as if he had to defend himself from her ridicule.

He fiddled with the knobs until the static hissed and filled the room with soft whispers. Shock settled into Harmony.

“You bugged his office?”

Corbeau chuckled, “I did,” he said as if he was proud of it. Actually, if she did it at his age she would have been proud of herself too, “my trust was starting to wane, I think I was looking for an excuse to convince myself of what I already knew.”

“What was that?”

Corbeau didn’t answer her, instead turning up the volume on the receiver.

“...figured out how to craft artificial Mega Stones.”

“Good, my team has located Mewtwo’s whereabouts…”

“He will be too strong for your team to take on alone. I will come with you.”

“That’s some hefty confidence for someone who let Mewtwo escape once already.”

“You came to me, and are standing in my office, are you not? You need me.”

Harmony reached out, lowering the volume on the receiver. Her heart was pounding in her chest, nervous from listening in on the conversation like they would break through the tiny office door at any moment. 

“Mewtwo?” She hissed.

Corbeau scrubbed his fingers through his hair, lost in thought. The legendary pokemon was known to be unwieldy and unpredictable. And Lysandre and Giovanni both wanted to get their hands on it. To what end.

“I remember Giovanni bringing up Mewtwo after a trip to Hoenn,” Corbeau said as he twisted a lock around his finger, “but it had also been a decade since Mewtwo had escaped, so I thought it was just wistful reminiscing.” 

Harmony shook her head, this didn’t matter. It was a dream, in the past. It wasn’t like Lumiose was in danger of Mewtwo’s wrath. The miasma swirling above the tower flashed through her mind.

Was Hyperspace being caused by Mewtwo’s psychic power?

“I think we need to find out what happened to Mewtwo,” she said, her fear growing.

Corbeau nodded, “are you in the mood for some Burn Up Roast?”

*

Time was not on Corbeau’s side; he was nearly running late to a last minute meeting scheduled with the boss. He tried his best not to run in the hall and act like a fool, but he had to grab his folder on the Galarian Slowpoke first.

He opened the door to his small office and flipped on the light. There was a muffled groan from behind his desk.

“Turn it off—” Laina whined as soon as Corbeau came around to inspect who the intruder might have been. She was curled up in a ball, her head pillowed on her jacket. Lucario was sitting next to her, his muzzle scrunched in concern for his trainer.

A slick anxiety crawled up Corbeau’s spine. His limbs went ice cold as his legs gave out under him, dropping him next to her. A shaky hand reached out to touch her shoulder causing her to whimper and flinch away. Her eyes were screwed shut.

“Laina, what—” Corbeau started and stopped. He wormed his arms out of his blazer, draping it over her as a makeshift blanket. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his frantic mind from running away with reality.

“What happened?” He asked as he attempted to pull her arms out to inspect her. No burns or scratches, nothing physically seemed out of place. He looked over at Lucario, wishing he had the same connection that Lania did with her Pokemon. She could communicate telepathically with Lucario — Corbeau would have to work on his bond with the pokemon in the future.

Lucario set his paw between Corbeau’s shoulderblades, his blunt nails scratching at his skin through his dress shirt. 

“Your back — does it hurt?”

She nodded as she buried her head in her hands. Her features relaxed a little, with more protection from the overhead light. 

“Can you get the light, Lucario?” Corbeau asked as he turned on his desk lamp. Lucario did as asked, the light fading into the warm glow from his desk lamp. It was harder for him to see Laina, but it was an easy trade as her tension leeched away.

“What happened?” Corbeau asked as he crawled under his desk the best he could to get a better look.

Laina shook her head, “I don’t know. It just—”

Bzzzt. Bzzzzt.

Corbeau looked down at his watch as it vibrated on his wrist. It was a reminder about his meeting that was set to start in five minutes. Corbeau grit his teeth as he struck the side of his desk with his fist.

“Come on, this can’t be comfortable for your back,” he said as he crawled out from under the desk. He took his blazer back as he helped her to her feet. Carefully he helped her to the futon along the wall in front of his desk doing his best to make her comfortable on her stomach. He covered her with the decorative throw blanket. 

“I have a meeting with Giovanni, so—” Corbeau started and Lucario growled, getting between him and Laina. “What the hell?!” Corbeau stumbled back in surprise. He didn’t have time for this.

Laina covered Lucario’s paw with her hand, and the pokemon backed down, his head hung low in apology. 

Corbeau reached out with his right hand, checking his watch —two minutes— before he moved the hair off her neck. Her skin was red and swollen. 

“I will be back as soon as I can, I promise,” He leaned down, laying a soft kiss on her temple, “Do you want help relaxing?”

She nodded, her glossy eyes catching what little light filled the room. Corbeau reached to his belt for Roselia’s pokeball. 

“Sleep Powder,” he instructed Roselia, the blue powder dusting over Laina and Lucario. Corbeau picked up his pokemon, setting her next to Laina on the futon. “Watch over them for me, OK?” Roselia let out a soft cry, resting her flower on the crown of Laina’s head.

One minute. 

Corbeau grabbed the folder and bolted across the hall to the boss's office.

Corbeau stepped into the spacious office with mere seconds to spare. Giovanni was sitting in his leather armchair, Persian curled around his feet asleep. There was a large cardboard box sitting on the table in front of him.

Giovanni twirled the wine glass he held in his hand, the dark ruby liquid sloshing up the glass. He raised his eyebrows as he took a small sip.

“You’re nearly late and walk in here like you rolled out of bed,” Giovanni admonished. Corbeau looked down at himself, his blazer unbuttoned, and the knees of his slacks dusty from where he crawled on the floor.

“I—”

“Sit,” Giovanni said, motioning to the cushions on the floor on the other side of the low table. Corbeau moved on instinct, kneeling on the cushion across from Giovanni. He set his file folder down on the slick black surface. The box on the table had a huge red import label on the side facing him.

“Can you read that for me, Corbeau?” He asked before taking another sip.

Corbeau adjusted his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose as he leaned forward to get a better look at the label.

“It says Galarica Twigs, sir.”

“Why did a box of sticks show up on the morning manifest?” Giovanni asked as he set the empty glass down on the side table.

Corbeau internally flinched while he stayed motionless in the room, “I ordered them, sir,” he answered as his gaze shifted from the label to his boss’s face. Like always, it was utterly impossible to read his stoney face.

“You have one sentence to convince me why you thought it was all right to spend my money on kindling.”

Corbeau’s fingers curled around the file folder in front of him. He moved to sit as straight as possible, to make his short stature grow enough to feign confidence as his heart hammered erratically in his chest.

“I was taking care of the Slowpoke problem, sir.”

Giovanni leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. Persian protested with a whine over the sudden movement before she settled again. He was in a more conversational position now, but still ready to challenge Corbeau’s perceived failure.

“I recall saying to dump the things so they wouldn’t be traced back here.”

Corbeau nodded as he stood, holding the file folder out to his boss, “Yessir, you did. However, I wouldn’t risk the trafficked pokemon being traced back here.”

Giovanni took the file folder from him and flipped it open, “Keep talking, Corbeau.”

“Once the Slowpoke evolves they do gain a poison-type, Galarian Slowbro has a good all-around stat balance, and the Slowking excels in special attack,” Confidence high Corbeau walked around the table to the chair, careful not to nudge the sleeping Persian as he flipped through the report in Giovanni’s hands, “these Twigs are required to evolve them. Giving them to the grunts here would greatly boost their power.”

“How many Slowpoke are there?”

“A dozen — well, eleven, sir. I gave Laina the one from the trials.”

Giovanni let out a dry chuckle, “they deserve each other.”

“Sir?”

“It’s nothing,” Giovanni said as he closed the file and handed it back to Corbeau, “I need you to set up a flight to Hoenn with my pilot.”

Corbeau nodded as he pulled a pen and paper from the inside pocket of his blazer, “Yessir, for when?”

“Next week, for me, my guest, and you.”

“Me, sir?”

“Yes. You have a sound head on those shoulders and are good at thinking on your feet.”

Corbeau felt the pride in his chest swell at the praise; it didn’t last long before the thought of Laina laying unconscious is a medicated slumber in his office barged into his head.

“What about Laina?”

Giovanni scoffed, “what about her?”

Corbeau’s focus shifted to his feet, an overwhelming anxiety working into his veins. He suddenly felt nervous, all his prior confidence bleeding out of him too fast. “W-we’ve never been apart.”

Giovanni waved his hand dismissively, “fine you stay here, then. Schedule the flight for me and my guest for next week.”

Corbeau nodded reflexively, his heart cracking at the scorn he received. 

“Yessir.”

Chapter Text

The sun was low in the sky, as the last of red-purple rays bled into the black of night when Philippe arrived at Nouveau Cafe’s Truck #3. The baristas were busy tidying the space for the evening. Across the street near the Wild Zone that consumed the Magenta Plaza he found Harmony and the boss, togo cups in their hands.

“Thank you, Harmony,” Philippe said as he took the extra cup she had. Caffeine so late in the day meant only one thing — another sleepless night.

“L has been located, he’s currently in Vert District,” Philippe reported as he sent the tracking information to Corbeau’s phone, “he seems to be hanging around Hotel Z, but not making any moves to contact anyone again.”

Corbeau nodded in acknowledgement, “I admire your swift work as always, Philippe.”

No matter how many times he received praise from the boss over the years, it never failed to send a warm surge of pride through him. He stood up straighter, holding his head up higher like a freshly preened Skarmory. 

“Just doing my job, boss.”

Corbeau changed apps on his phone screen, bringing up a call, “Ah, hello, Grish, just who I was hoping to hear from.”

“I have a delivery for you.”

“For me? I don’t recall any outstanding favors from Nouveau Flame.”

“I believe Rust Syndicate will be in our debt for once,” The honeyed threat from Grisham caught Philippe’s attention, his gaze being drawn to the video call. The camera pivoted around to Charizard, zooming in to show Laina on their back; she looked tired, her head resting against their neck as she held on. 

“Laina!” Corbeau tried, but failed, to keep the concern from breaking through as worried lines crossed his face. 

Harmony gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Her eyes were wide in shock.

“Would you like to pick her up, or should I have her brought to you?” Grisham asked, a sly amusement playing across his face.

Corbeau’s fist shook at his side; Harmony seemed to act on instinct, her hand reaching out to calm him. It was brief, his gaze dropping to their linked hands before snapping up to the phone screen. Corbeau let a deep breath into his lungs, allowing the practiced composure to win out.

“I actually have something to speak with you about, Grish. If you would be a good sport and meet us outside Lysandre Cafe I would deeply appreciate it.”

*

Corbeau had his arms folded across his chest as he paced in front of the boarded up store front of Lysandre Cafe. The smallest sounds drew his attention skyward, only to groan when he didn’t catch sight of Charizard.

Harmony stood across the street, a feeling of helplessness and worry consuming her as she watched the usual picture of composure crack under the new impatience. Every time she took a step forward to meet him, to help him calm down anyway she could, Philippe had stopped her advance.

He let go of her shoulder when she fell back in line with his position.

“I didn’t know Laina was—” Harmony paused. Was what, alive? What a weird statement, why wouldn’t she be. “Around,” her brain eventually supplied as she looked over at Philippe hoping he was in a sharing mood.

He rarely was.

“Boss makes sure it stays that way,” he said like it was a normal response. Normal to keep an entire human being’s existence in his life a secret.

“Why?” The question came out so small and quiet. There was something hard that formed in her heart as she tried to process the last five minutes.

There was a powerful gust of wind in the middle of the street, Charizard coming to land in front of the cafe. Corbeau nearly tripped on his own two feet as he rushed to their side, assisting Grisham with helping Laina down from Charizard’s back.

Corbeau pulled her into a tight hug. He said something, but they were too far away to hear. They pulled apart, his hands frantic as he checked her face, arms, sides for anything wrong. She giggled and he fumed in response.

“That’s a complicated story,” Philippe answered, before pulling up his phone and turning away from her.

“Yes, hello Miss Priscilla. I need you to activate the third contingency for Trésor.”

Harmony took Philippe’s distraction with his phone call to cross the street. Corbeau didn’t notice, his attention still firmly on Laina. She let one of her pokemon out — a Galarian Slowking. Corbeau reached out to pat the pokemon on top of their shell; the Slowking turned around to face the source of gratitude, revealing its back to Harmony. 

She faltered, nearly tripping over herself as she saw they were missing their tail, the nub covered in scar tissue that clearly stopped it from regrowing with time.

“Is that the Slowpoke that—” Harmony blurted out and then bit her tongue. But she succeeded in getting Corbeau’s attention.

“Harmony,” Her name came out as a breathless surprise. 

The weight in her heart became heavier.

Lania turned her attention to her as well. Only then did she realize that she had only interacted with a Hyperspace Laina.

“Hello, I’m Harmony,” she supplied as she held out her hand in an awkward introduction.

“So I do get to meet Harmony after all,” she responded by shaking her hand, “sorry. I hear a lot about you, I’m Laina.”

Harmony balked. Like a Deerling frozen in headlights.

“Y—you do?”

Corbeau did everything to evade questions about Hyperspace Laina.

She smiled, folding her hands in front of her, “you can’t stop his stories once he gets start—”

“All right!” Corbeau cut in, physically stepping between the two women, “Laina, please.”

Harmony couldn’t help but laugh, the facade of capable stoicism had completely faded away. The Rust Syndicate boss was nowhere to be found. 

“Philippe,” Corbeau let out a sigh of relief when his second-in-command joined them.

“The third contingency for Trésor has been activated, boss.”

“Thank you, as always—”

“—Wait, why?” Laina cut in, her cheerfulness fading into confusion as she glared at Corbeau.

“Because it’s necessary,” Corbeau answered, short and curt.

“Why!” Laina asked again as she grabbed Corbeau’s shoulder, forcing him to look her in the eye, “is he causing that thing in the sky?”

Harmony’s gaze followed where she was pointing with her other hand. The dark miasma leaving a pitch black void in the night sky usually washed with the city’s lights.

“I don’t know,” Corbeau answered as he adjusted his glasses, “that’s the whole point of a contingency.” 

“Don’t give me attitude, Corbeau,” Laina sighed, letting her arms drop to her side, “I assume you’re going to tell me to go back to the office with Philippe, huh?”

A pained look crossed Corbeau’s face before he nodded, “please. For now.”

“Fine.”

“Would you like me to call a car, Miss Laina?”

“No,” she said as she shook her head, “Slowking and Grisham fixed me right up.”

Philippe chuckled, offering his elbow to Laina as assistance, “All right, let’s go then.”

“Yes, Grish!” Corbeau said as he turned his attention to the Flame Nouveau leader, “forgive my lack of manners. I should thank you for looking out for Laina.”

Grisham rolled his eyes, a tired sigh passing over his lips, “you can cut the crap, Beau. What did you want?”

“Why don’t we talk inside?”

Harmony followed after the two men into the closed cafe. The evening made it more unsettling inside than the last time she had been forced into the cafe. The emergency lights flashed over the door, leaving an eerie darkness, the blue light from the entrance to the basement lab was the only other illumination in the space.

Corbeau took a seat at one of the less cluttered tables, silently waiting until Grisham joined him. The Flame Nouveau leader messed around behind the counter, ignoring Corbeau as he flipped on the espresso machine.

Harmony rolled her eyes at the immature behavior between the two rivals. She knew they both had a history when it came to Lysandre, but the details were hard to pry out of either of them. 

“Wouldn’t some white tea be better at this hour?” Harmony asked as she sat down on Corbeau’s right.

Grisham scoffed as he set the espresso shots on the table, “knowing Beau, he wants information. He was always content to take Lysandre’s benevolence, but when it came to helping Team Flare he was always conveniently too busy.” Grisham stepped back, leaning against the bar countertop.

Corbeau removed his glasses, letting them hang from his neck. The stress lines on his face weren’t fading as he pressed his fingertips into his temples. 

“I wouldn’t call my labor to better this city a convenient excuse,” Corbeau said, a strained haughtiness in his tone, “we were — we are always on the same team, I don’t understand your disdain.” Corbeau let go of his temples and motioned in front of him, “why don’t you take a seat so we can talk about this like adults.”

Grisham shook his head at the invitation, “what is ‘this’?”

Corbeau looked over his shoulder at Harmony. Did he expect her to step in?

“Mewtwo,” she answered after a beat.

Grisham’s eyes widened, “what about him?”

“I know Team Flare was looking for him six years ago — why?” Corbeau asked as he placed his glasses back on his face. He kept his gaze fixed at the empty seat in front of him.

“We were looking for him longer than that,” Grisham answered, “why does anyone search for a legendary pokemon? Power.”

“Mewtwo is hardly a pokemon that can be contained,” Corbeau stated.

“Lysandre said he had a way to keep Mewtwo in a stasis,” Grisham shrugged, “we found Mewtwo, but by then it was too late to use his power, Lysandre was able to capture Yveltal to use with the Ultimate Weapon.”

“That’s it?” Harmony asked, “he just wanted to use Mewtwo for the weapon? What about his Mega Stones — Mewtwo is a Kantonian legend, he shouldn’t have Megs Stones.”

“That was definitely above my paygrade,” Grisham said with annoyance, “Rumors were that you could create Mega Stones somehow.”

Corbeau’s head dropped forward, his gaze falling to his lap. His shoulders tensed as he balled his hands in his lap.

“Corbeau?” Harmony reached out her hand resting on top of his fist. The tension seeped out as his fingers relaxed to grab her hand. His hold was firm, like an anchor to keep him in the conversation and out of his head.

“It’s nothing,” he said with a shake of his head, “it has been a long day and I think it’s finally catching up with me.”

Grisham rolled his eyes, “is there anything else? I have to get back to help Griselle close up the truck.”

“One last thing,” Corbeau said, looking at Grisham for the first time, “do you know what happened to the Mewtwonite?”

“Last I heard the trainer that took down Lysandre had them, but who knows if they still do.”

“Thanks, Grish.”

Grisham chuckled, “whatever, make sure you lock the door behind you before you leave.”

As soon as the cafe door closed with a soft bell, Corbeau stood up to head toward the basement.

“You still have the keycard, right?”

Harmony scrambled out of her seat to catch up with him, “how do you know I have a keycard?”

A deep laugh broke out of Corbeau, “why does my information gathering still surprise you, Harmony?”

“I—I don’t know,” she said as she pulled the keycard from her satchel. 

She knew. 

She always wanted to believe in his noble causes, so she could ignore the underhanded tactics he took to get the job done.

He took the card from her hands as they stepped in the elevator, “you’re way too forgiving.”

She rolled her shoulder at the accusation. It was still a little stiff and sore.

“I think by now I can trust you to do the right thing,” she countered, her eyes fixed on the number pad in front of her; she reached out to press the ‘3’ to keep herself busy.

“Trust, huh?” Corbeau mused as he swiped the keycard before slipping it into the inside pocket of his coat, “is that what you call what’s happening between us?”

Harmony swallowed the lump in her throat. The ache in her heart had returned.

It was her turn to ignore his questions.

The elevator dinged when they reached the third sub basement. Harmony moved first, standing in the doorway, blocking Corbeau’s exit. The automatic door went to close on her, banging off her sneakers, before opening again.

“Why did I never meet Laina? Why don’t you bring her up?”

Golden eyes went wide as saucers behind his glasses. The familiar tension was back on his face any time she had attempted to broach the topic. The surprise on his face darkened as anger settled on heavy lines creasing his forehead.

“Am I not allowed to have a private life?” His tone remained calm, cold. He took a step closer to her, his head inclined in an attempt to look taller than her.

She wasn’t going to buy the intimidation. He wasn’t shaking her down for Urbain’s mistakes. 

“Even after I started seeing her in Hyperspace, you pretended like she wasn’t worth talking about,”

The elevator door bounced off her again.

“Leave it alone, Harmony,” Corbeau warned.

“The meowth is out of the bag, Corbeau!” Harmony reminded him, her voice raising in frustration, “I’ve met her. She looked me dead in the eyes and said you talk to her about me! Why won’t you give me the same?”

With a forceful press to her chest, Corbeau pushed her through the threshold of the elevator. He stalked down the dark hall alone.

She groaned, pulling her hands down her face, “fine, be an asshole,” Harmony yelled out to his back, “you’ll have to answer me eventually.”

Harmony stepped back into the elevator before it closed, hitting the street level button and leaving Corbeau alone in the lab.

Trust. What a joke.