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Team ShakkaBoom - M5 - Part 2

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Mission 5 – Lost

Part 2


"E-Excuse me? Are you okay…?"

The Banette did not raise his head, nestled between his two knees. Eden the Sneasel bit her lip. Her hands twitched – usually, by now, she would be clicking her claws together out of anxiety, but she distinctly remembered this particular 'mon despising the habit. She didn't want to make him angry, so Eden restrained herself, and forced her shaky feet to take a few steps closer.

"Mister Sinbad?"             

The formal address seemed to catch his attention. The Banette's cute yellow tail twitched with recognition. He did not look up at her, but Eden knew that he was paying attention, however half-hearted it might be.

The Rogue Sneasel usually wouldn't attempt on intruding in matters such as these. She hadn't meant to overhear nor witness the veracious battle that had occurred between Sinbad and that Growlithe. She had fled after Sinbad bit the Growlithe, but stayed within range to hear the rest of the battle. Trying to keep out of other Pokémon's business, Eden attempted to distract herself with her partner, Sin, but the Spiritomb was busy recovering from his battle with Kyurem. The usually grimdark ghost was resting in his keystone, tucked safely away within the maze of tunnels.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of Eden. The female mentally cursed herself for being such so nosy when she'd retraced her steps back. The battle ground was abandoned when she arrived – only a small pool of the Growlithe's blood was left, along with tuffs of red-orange and cream colored fur. Dark marks where Sinbad's Thunder had scorched the rocks painted an outline of the battle which had occurred. But Eden was most surprised to see that Sinbad's own trail (which she would normally have followed with just her nose) was drawn with a line of what looked like black blood.

Sin had often times explained to Eden that ghosts didn't technically bleed. Most, however, if their forms were physical enough, could lose their ectoplasm, or the stuff which made them tangible. Loosing too much could be very painful, sometimes even fatal, if a ghost wasn't able to heal itself quickly enough. Eden concluded that Sinbad had been torn up a bit more than she had originally thought, and her natural instincts drove her to worry. She had followed him with a faster step.

Now that she was here, though, Eden wasn't quite so sure what to do. She could see the tears in Sinbad's cloth-like skin. There were many long scratches and bite marks littering scarring his face, which was drenched in the dark pseudo-blood. There was a long and ugly gash marring his stomach too; the wound there was more fringed and bleeding much more heavily. Sinbad was sitting in a pool of his own essence.

"M-M-Mister–"

"Didn't I tell you…?" Sinbad took in a deep breath, mist expelling from his teeth. As he lifted his head, Eden was sad to see that his mouth was broken too. The zipper had been snapped open, the tab completely missing. The negative emotions, usually swirling within the Banette, chilled the air around him. Eden shivered slightly from the intensity of it. Instinct told her to flee – it was like Sinbad was a disease, and her body was warning her to keep away so she couldn't catch. But Eden couldn't resist the urge to help. Sin had always told her maternal instincts were much too strong.

Sinbad took another labored breath. "…Didn't I tell you… not to call me Mister?"

Eden blushed. Yes, actually, he had. Sinbad had assisted Eden and Sin in fetching seaweed, during the epidemic when Sorbet first appeared in Tao. Locke had been extremely sick – in a coma, if Eden recalled correctly – and Sinbad needed help in getting part of the antidote. The experience had been a short and solitary one, but Eden remembered it quite clearly. If Sinbad's wishy-washy attitude didn't serve as a strong enough reminder, that unexpected Flygon attack certainly was…

"What… do you want?" Sinbad hissed. There was no force behind the menacing effort, though. In truth, Sinbad was much too tired to invest in much of anything at the moment.

"I-I came to help you," Eden stammered. She bit her lip, rubbing her claws together as she forced herself to keep steady. Resisting natural fear and instinct, she continued on, "I w-want to help you patch up your wounds. I have a needle and thread, I just need to fetch them."

Sinbad sat silently. He didn't move or say anything. Eden realized that he hadn't looked at her at all while they'd spoken. His red eyes, centered with two silvery rings, were staring at the ground, unseeingly. The frown on his face was not a scowl of anger, or irritation, or malice, but one of sadness. Eden felt like she remembered a face like that, through the surface of water disturbed by tears.

But now wasn't the time. The Sneasel sighed, then turned and scurried away. When Sorbet had begun his rampage, Midnight Havoc hadn't needed to hurry. Sin knew Shadow Sneak and had talked to Devonshire about the tunnels before. He could simply teleport Eden and himself out of their small base, which allowed Eden enough time to pack a small satchel of their most needed items. A handful of said items included her sewing materials, along with a few dolls she'd made.

Eden quickly fetched her bag, taking it back to Sinbad in a matter of minutes. The Banette hadn't moved an inch when she returned, but Eden paused as she approached. "Sinbad, you're nearly see-through."

The male blinked. Glancing down at his arms, still settled on his knees, he said emotionlessly, "Huh. You're right."

"Are you okay?"

"I feel lightheaded…" Sinbad sighed, expelling another breath, then ground his yellow teeth together. "It hurts, actually. I think I'm dying."

Eden's fur bristled in alarm at the bluntness of his statement. "W-w-well then let me help you! I have what I need."

"Don't bother," Sinbad muttered. But when Eden knelt beside him, shivering with a natural sense of terror as his essence stuck to her knees, he did not move away. He didn't resist when she pried him apart, pulling his arms away from his legs, his legs from his torso. He sat absolutely still as Eden quickly patched him up, closing his stomach wound first, and then the ones on his head. She actually had to use some extra cloth in her satchel; he'd lost so much of it himself. Most was too torn and damaged to keep on his face. The process of sewing him back up took nearly an hour or so.

The work was slow, and tiresome, but the caves were peaceful and graciously silent. Sinbad must have fled further in than Eden had first expected. Even with her keen hearing, she could only just barely hear the crowd of Tao villagers. Here, there were only the sounds of echoing water drops, and wind whistling through the cracks in the walls. The occasional skittering of some creature in the distance. Eden's even breathing, and Sinbad's labored exhales. The mist of his negative emotions, eaten from others and left to fester within him, tickled Eden's whiskers and made her feel downtrodden. It took time to learn to resist the sudden waves of anguish, loneliness and despair. Were these feelings that Sinbad felt all the time?

Eventually, she was done. Eden bit and tied the last line of string, then pulled back to look. Sinbad hadn't looked at her through the entire endeavor, but was inspecting her work with an earnest eye. This made Eden just a tad bit nervous. She'd made all the sewing neat, made sure the extra cloth was as close to his original color as possible… but what if he didn't like it?

"Arceus, I look like I got in a fight with two dogs," he muttered. In his voice there was a sense of bitterness, but Eden noticed another emotion, one like regret. "…Thanks, I think." Sinbad moved his body around just a bit more, stretching, testing the stitches. They held.

"You'll be alright then?" Eden asked. She flinched, wanting to help him as Sinbad tried standing up, but drew back quickly. Sinbad didn't seem one to want charity – he had probably only allowed Eden to mend him because he was near death, and she'd basically cornered him.

The Banette before her sighed heavily. His mouth was still undone. "Is the tab for your zipper anywhere nearby?" Eden asked curiously. "I can probably fix that too."

"I don't know where it is," Sinbad told her. Eden huffed. His eyes still wouldn't meet hers, and it was getting a bit aggravating.

"I have an extra one in my bag."

"What? Who are you, Marill Poppins?"

Eden blushed, her claws clicking before she could think. Sinbad's eye visibly twitched. "N-n-no, I j-just-!"

Sinbad cracked a smile, finally glancing at Eden. She let out a tiny gasp, surprised at the look in his eyes. But before she could think much of it, while Sinbad was rubbing his neck and feeling the stitches, he paused. His fingers felt around his neck and shoulders, but there was nothing. "My bowtie is gone."

"Huh?"

"It's missing," Sinbad said. His voice was steady as ever, but with a sort of urgency to it. "It must have gotten torn off."

"Your bowtie?" Eden thought, then recalled that yes, Sinbad did usually have a white bowtie on. She was about to suggest that it was where the fight had happened, but hesitated. She didn't really want Sinbad knowing that she'd been eavesdropping… "Wh-where do you think got torn…?"

Sinbad didn't answer, but instead walked past her. He seemed a tad shaky on his feet, but moved at a steady pace. Eden, not knowing what else to do, scooped up her small bag and followed.

~

Locke paced back and forth before the mouth of an exit tunnel. There were a few scattered on the way through the tunnels, though no one had bothered going through them. Hardly anyone was sure exactly where they let out, and Devonshire was nowhere to be seen for an inquiry about it. From what Locke had heard, the Sableye didn't even remember where the tunnels led out too.

It had been an hour since Sinbad and Bailey's fight. Everyone was back on the move now. Devonshire had called the clear, and everyone was moving to the end of the tunnels. Locke looked through the crowd. Behind him stood a Bailey's adoptive mother, Cricket, a Flygon whose wing had been damaged during Sorbet's storm. Uncomfortable with the idea of ending up in an unfamiliar area, the Flygon had decided that she could be healed somewhere safer. She had an old friend who lived nearby Tao, and she would be heading there, along with her two daughters… and Locke, too.

Something within the Buizel's chest tightened. Locke cast another anxious glance over the shifting crowd. He spotted Rosemary carrying Bailey, coming his way. The Lopunny had insisted on getting Bailey's wounds at least wrapped before they headed off, and luckily enough, a 'mon with a supply kit had been nearby and willing to help. There weren't any healers experienced or strong enough (for everyone was terribly exhausted) to properly heal Bailey's foreleg, but the bandages would help stop the bleeding, at least. But for now, the Growlithe wouldn't be able to walk very well on her own.

Locke kept his gaze moving, but he couldn't see what he was looking for. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for. An angry Banette stomping his way and dragging him down the tunnels? Sinbad leaping from the enormous crowd, taking one last chance to take Bailey out for good? The idea of Sinbad doing such a thing made Locke extremely upset, but… he'd tried to do it. Sinbad had tried killing Bailey. If Locke had hesitated any longer in finding the two of them, if he'd taken a wrong turn in the tunnels… Bailey'd be dead, and her blood would be on Sinbad's hands. The thought that Sinbad would do such a thing was…

"Locke!"

Locke was pulled from his thoughts as Bailey scrambled out of Rosemary's grasp. Fear and the need to be close to someone safe had driven Bailey's actions, but she hadn't been thinking. She yelped when landing on her hurt arm, and instantly crumbled. Rosemary bent hastily to pick her back up, but Locke was at the Growlithe's side in a second. He put his muzzle beneath her head and helped her to stand shakily.

"Bailey, you can' jus'-!"

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Locke pulled back to see tears in Bailey's eyes. She sniffled, rubbing her nose and resting on her stomach. "This was all my fault… I've ruined everything for you, haven't I?"

"What? No! I mean…" Locke frowned. He looked at the crowd again, but seeing nothing, turned back to Bailey. "I mean… Sinbad'll be fine without me. He's stronger 'n me, an' smarter 'n me. Better th'n takin' me at takin' care 'o himself." Locke licked Bailey's cheek reassuringly. "I jus'… I jus' want tah tell 'im goodbye. I didn't get the chance to…"

Bailey's eyes were worried, but she forced a smile. "Alright. But hurry, okay? Mom wants to leave soon, since I'm hurt."

"I know," Locke said, his voice choking a bit. He'd been so worried about Bailey's condition that he'd completely forgotten about his other friends. Irane, and Brace, and Strum; Ahiru, Panther, and all the others… He hadn't gotten the chance to say goodbye to them. Sinbad would have to explain why they wouldn't find him, wherever they were heading. It was sad to leave them without saying goodbye, but they needed to leave now…

Bailey nuzzled him for a moment, and Locke was off and running. He figured he'd find Sinbad somewhere near the battle site. Retracing his steps, the Buizel quickly made it back to where he'd found Sinbad and Bailey, but the Banette was not there. Sinbad noted that there were drops of what looked like blood, painting a trail away and into the darker areas of the caves. He was about to follow when something stopped him.

His heart was beating so fast. Locke found that, without realizing it, he could hardly breathe. He wasn't sure if it was from stress or his fight with Sinbad, but his shortness of breath forced him to the ground. Locke spent a good five minutes or so just trying to calm down, to tame the solid and painful thrums within his ribcage.

The pain subsided. This had happened once or twice before. As Locke slowly rose from the ground, breathing in deeply, but carefully, he glanced around. The incidents had been a long while ago, closer to after the epidemic had ended, but he hadn't told Sinbad or Bailey about them. He thought they were just the after effects of his coma, and after the second one, he'd thought they were done with…

Locke's eyes caught something, driving him back to reality. He walked over to the far corner of the cave, spotting a white cloth lying battered and bloodied on the floor. Picking it up with a paw and sniffing it, he realized it was Sinbad's. His bowtie.

Locke gently rubbed the material between his paws, and against his nose, closing his eyes and focusing on the scent. Sinbad's scent was an extremely faint one – hardly anyone else could even tell the Banette had one. But Locke had known Sinbad since the Buizel was hardly a year old. Sinbad's scent was one Locke would never be able to forget… not that he wanted to.

Suddenly, with a sureness quite unlike him, Locke knew that he wouldn't be able to face Sinbad again. He was afraid to. The Buizel wasn't sure why, but he couldn't stand the thought of having to say goodbye. It was unbearable, this feeling of betrayal which had slowly begun to consume him, this fear that was crippling him.

He sat there. Then, with one last, deep breath, Locke put Sinbad's bowtie into his mouth and headed back for the exit tunnel. Bailey, Rosemary, and Cricket were waiting, the green and yellow lights from outside lighting their path, drawing sunshine rays on their outlines. Locke hesitated just before he was within distance of them. He took Sinbad's bowtie and undid his own. Lying them together, he carefully folded the white so it was hidden within the black. He then redid his bowtie and continued on.

Bailey didn't notice the difference.

"Did he take it okay?" Bailey asked, sitting up with a bit of effort. Locke hesitated. Looked back one more time.

"…Yeah. He took it well."

~

From above, Sinbad watched them leave. Locke had sent the crowd one last backwards glance, but then the Buizel was gone. Swallowed up by the light of the forest.

Eden, sitting beside him, said nothing, and for that Sinbad was grateful. After failing to find his bowtie, the Sneasel had said something about smelling something fresh, a dog-like scent. Sinbad attempted to run back the way he'd come, but took a wrong turn. Ended up above everyone instead. And from their perch, he watched Locke leave with Bailey.

"…Are you okay, Sinbad?"

Her voice was light and hesitant. Meek. But for once, Sinbad didn't mind. He didn't really care.

He turned and walked off, back into darkness. "The crowd's moving. Grab your pet rock. I'm going."

Sinbad didn't bother waiting for Eden to respond. Let her follow. She was good company. The best he'd probably ever have, now. The Banette's gut was swirling with pain, but this time it was his own.

...

Locke hadn't even bothered to say goodbye…
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psychonator17's avatar
And Locke was never seen or heard of, let alone mentioned again. And not a single fuck was given by Sinbad from that day on. THE END. :iconiliedplz: