Turning of the Tides

Izzyaro

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It was an idyllic scene. The sun hung low in a cloudless blue sky, and the sparkling waves lapped gently at the sand. Up and down the beach some families were starting to head home, while others lingered defiantly in the warm waters. It had been a glorious day, and the people of Mossdeep had made the most of it.

At least, most of them had.

Steven stared out over the water and sighed. He had come down to the beach in an attempt to clear his head, but all he'd succeeded in doing was winding himself up even further. Metagross was by his side, as always, but even their solid support wasn't helping. His thoughts were still whirling relentlessly round his head, and none of his usual coping methods seemed to be working.

It was understandable, considering the circumstances, but that didn't make it any easier.

Steven was on the verge of giving up and heading home, when a shadow fell across him and a lilting voice spoke.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Steven twisted round, and scrambled to his feet. "Wallace? What are you doing here?"

Wallace grinned at him. For once his trademark hat was nowhere to be seen, and his blue hair was whipping round his face in the evening breeze. "I thought you'd be brooding," he said lightly. "And Gyarados was feeling restless." The sea serpent broke the water with a roar, startling a couple of swimmers, and he threw it a fond look. "Mossdeep's nice enough at this time of year that a visit wasn't too much trouble."

Steven knew better, but the extra effort his friend had gone to made his smile widen. "Well, it's good to see you." He sat back on the warm sand. "Even if I'm not brooding."

Wallace raised an elegant eyebrow as he joined him. "You're down on the beach, when you hate the beach, the day before one of the biggest battles of your life. That's practically the definition of brooding."

Steven felt his cheeks heat up, made worse by Metagross' low hum of amusement in the back of his mind. "I'm thinking," he insisted. "There's a difference."

"Mm hm. If you say so." He lay back on the sand and closed his eyes. "It's all right. You'll tell me when you're ready."

"There's nothing to tell," Steven muttered.

Wallace cracked open one blue eye enough to regard him with undisguised scepticism. "It's okay to be nervous, you know," he said. "You'll be one of the youngest regional Champions in history if you win tomorrow."

"Cynthia became Sinnoh Champion last year," Steven pointed out.

"Yes, and she's a year older than you," Wallace shot back. "She's my age, remember? So it still counts."

Steven sighed. "Fine, but it doesn't change anything. It's just another battle."

Wallace just looked at him, and Steven scowled back at the water. The sun was setting, painting sea and sky alike in rich reds and purples, but Steven couldn't appreciate the view. Of course he had made friends with one of the few people in Hoenn who was as stubborn as he was.

Metagross sighed in his mind, and sent both reassurance and a pointed thought. Steven accepted the comfort gratefully, the suggestion less so, and leaned back against his Starter's solid leg. Wallace continued to watch the sunset as if he had all the time in the world, and Steven gave up. He could defeat Wallace in a Pokémon battle, but a test of patience? Steven had never been very good at those.

"It just makes you think," he said softly.

Wallace glanced at him for a brief moment, then looked back at the ocean. "What about?"

Steven shrugged. "Everything. About how different life could have been. What you could have done."

"What certain people might think of you now?"

Startled, Steven looked down, and saw a sad smile on Wallace's face. "Ah," his friend murmured. "I thought it might be that."

Steven swallowed. "How?"

Wallace shrugged, and pushed himself up onto his elbows. "Just a feeling. You're not completely impossible to read, you know."

Steven hesitated, but since Wallace had worked it all out anyway… "I barely remember her," he said quietly. "I was six…Six year olds don't ask what their mothers want for them."

The memories he'd been trying to suppress all day were bursting in front of his eyes and he couldn't quite suppress a flinch, but Wallace continued to wait quietly and Steven took the chance to collect himself. "I like to think she would be proud of me," he said finally. "I know my father is. But not knowing…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. This isn't something I should be bothering you with."

"I asked," Wallace corrected gently. He was silent for a moment, then sighed. "Steven, I can't say I understand, because I don't. I can't." He sat up so that his eyes were on a level with Steven's. "I do know that there aren't many mothers who wouldn't be proud of what you have achieved."

Steven swallowed. "My father said something similar."

"You should listen to him. He knew her best, after all."

Steven nodded. Most of his own memories were of those horrible last couple of years. The dark moods, the days of silence, the cloying, suffocating despair, and then so, so much blood…

"Steven?"

Steven realised he was shivering and wrenched his mind from that image. "My apologies," he managed. "I…I was remembering something."

Wallace eyed him, handsome features creasing into a frown. "Not a good something from the looks of things. You're white as a sheet."

Such a lapse was unacceptable, even with an old friend. Steven pulled himself together, and managed something resembling his usual smile. "It's nothing. I'm fine. It's just getting a little chilly."

It wasn't a lie. The sun had fully set now, and the breeze coming off the sea was unpleasantly cool. Wallace's eyes narrowed, but to Steven's relief he let the matter drop. "We should get off the beach," he said. "It'll start getting really cold soon."

Steven nodded, and used Metagross' leg to push himself upright, before turning to haul Wallace up. The Water specialist flashed him a smile, before taking a few steps down the beach to return Gyarados. Steven patted Metagross' enormous head.

"Thanks," he whispered. "You get a good rest before tomorrow."

"You too, Steven."

Steven couldn't help smiling as Metagross disappeared into their Pokéball. His Starter was worse than Aggron when it came to fretting about him. He tilted his head back and tried to let the cool sea breeze soothe his agitation. The past was the past. It couldn't be changed, and he couldn't let it affect his future. He wasn't going to make much progress against Drake if his head was like this. He had to get himself under control.

Saying that was much easier than doing it. The memories still wouldn't leave his mind. He clenched his hand into a fist, welcoming the stab of his nails into his palm as the pain cut through his foggy mind.

"Steven?"

Steven blinked, and looked round to see Wallace watching him. "Sorry," he said. "Did you want to stay the night? It's a bit late to head back to Sootopolis, even if you borrowed Skarmory."

Wallace nodded slowly. "If you're sure I won't distract you?"

Steven shook his head, but unease pricked his stomach. Wallace was still studying him, and his usually animated face was unreadable. Steven frowned. "What?"

Wallace said nothing, but his gaze flickered to Steven's clenched fist and Steven just about suppressed a twitch. He took a breath and forced himself to relax. Purple crescent shaped bruises had formed, but his nails hadn't even broken the skin. He shook himself, and turned to head back up to the city. "Come on," he called over his shoulder. "Some of us have a busy day tomorrow."

It took Wallace a moment or two longer than it normally it would to catch up with him. "You'll be fine," he said.

Steven just nodded. He knew his team were capable of defeating Drake. As long as he kept his head they should be fine. "I'll call you when it's over."

"You'd better." He paused, and Steven could feel his eyes on him. "Steven-"

"I'm fine," Steven interrupted. "And I'll be fine tomorrow."

There was an even longer pause before Wallace replied. "Look me in the eye, and tell me that."

Steven gritted his teeth, and forced himself to look at Wallace. His friend's face was pinched with concern, and Steven found himself unable to hold onto his irritation. "I'll be fine," he repeated.

Wallace's eyes searched his face for a long minute before he shook his head and looked away. "I'm sure you will," he murmured. He was silent for a moment, then words suddenly came spilling out. "But if you're ever not, then I'm here. Any time you need to talk, or if you don't want to talk but just need a friend…"

Steven could only stare at him. "Wallace…"

Wallace's cheeks tinged pink. "Ugh," he muttered. "That didn't come out right." He blew out a breath and looked Steven in the eye. "If you ever need someone," he said quietly, "then I'll be there. Any time, any place. If it's something important, or so small you wonder if you should say anything. Just tell me, and I'll be there."

For a moment, Steven could only stare at him. No one had ever made that offer so bluntly before. Then again, only two people had ever thought he might need it. His father had taken it for granted that he would ask, and Cynthia had hinted that she was willing to listen, but having someone come out and say it took some processing. Already the urge to refuse, to insist that he was fine, was bubbling up in his throat, and the acid fear of betrayal burned in his stomach. It had happened before, it could happen again. The risk wasn't worth it.

Metagross protested in his mind, and Steven flinched back from the thought. Wallace wouldn't betray him, he was incapable of such an act. There was nothing to fear from Wallace. Wallace just knew that something was wrong, and he wanted to help.

Steven couldn't deny that sometimes he needed help. And he did trust Wallace. The fear and the shame were still there, would probably always be there, but he was no longer a child. They didn't rule him.

So he was able to meet Wallace's nervous gaze.

"I will remember," he said softly.

Wallace blinked, then his face broke into a warm smile. "You'd better." He glanced at Steven's Pokéballs. "I'm sure Metagross will be happy to remind you."

His Starter's affirmative pulsed fiercely in Steven's mind, and he rolled his eyes. "You're not wrong there," he muttered, but the approval and relief rolling off his two friends was infectious, and he felt a smile tug at his own lips. "Thank you."

Wallace's smile somehow became even brighter, and Steven let the last of his tension drain away. Whatever happened, both in the coming battle and in all the days to come, they would be just fine.

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