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“Charizard, use Dragon Claw!”
“Umbreon, Reflect.”
Their game of cat and mouse had come to its peak, at least this round. They’d both gotten used to this dance—Spinel would tail Friede, Friede would catch him, rinse and repeat.
And of course, at every culmination of their little cycle, a battle would ensue. This time, their choice of arena was an alleyway.
( I really have to stop going alone to alleyways, Friede internally commented to himself.)
“What, no monologue this time? You’re being awfully quiet.” Friede gave a wry smirk. Usually, the other man was much more talkative, whether it be gloating about his new “flawless” plot or mocking either Friede or his coworkers. This time, however, Spinel had been nearly silent.
“Maybe you’re just not as interesting of a conversation partner as you think. Perhaps I’m just trying to do your inflated ego a favor,” Spinel mocked in a low and almost.. nasally? voice. This was probably the most he’d talked throughout their entire encounter, though.
“Funny for you to talk about ‘inflated egos,’” Friede muttered under his breath, though still loud enough for Spinel to hear, which earned him an unimpressed glare.
“I have results to back up my confidence. Yours, on the other hand—”
—and before he could even finish his thought, Spinel broke out in almost violent coughing.
…???
Spinel deeply inhaled and exhaled, before trying again.
“Your–”
…and with a humiliating voice crack, he cut himself off with yet another coughing fit. During Spinel’s internal struggle, Friede put the pieces together.
“..Are you sick?” he questioned, earning him yet another unimpressed glare from the other. Though now that Friede looked at him closer, his poor health was pretty obvious. Even in the dark of the alleyway, Spinel’s nose was as red as his Umbreon’s eyes, and he’d been sniffling practically every minute. Not to mention the coughing fits.
In other words, nothing about the glare was intimidating. If anything, it was a little sad looking, in a pathetic sort of way.
“What an astute observation. It must’ve taken nearly all of your brainpowww, ow..” Spinel began before trailing off, bringing a hand up to rub at his throat. Seems like all the coughing just made…whatever’s up with his throat worse. Friede felt a bit bad, honestly.
“Have you taken any medicine? No offense—actually, maybe a bit offense—you sound awful.”
Spinel rolled his eyes. “I fail to see how that’s relevant to our situation at all. This battle isn’t—” He coughs again, “over.”
(Umbreon looks over at Spinel with an unamused glare reminiscent of its trainer’s, though this one was actually intimidating, from where it and Charizard had been sitting idly since Spinel’s first fit.)
Friede crossed his arms and cocked his head a bit to the side. “You’re pretty obviously not in the best shape for that right now. How do you expect to call out any moves like that? Plus, you never answered my other question.”
Spinel shifted his head to the side, avoiding eye contact, giving Friede the answers he was looking for. Absolutely no medicine taken, it seems. He let out a full body sigh, before turning to Charizard. “Could you keep an eye on him for a second? I’ll be right back.” Before Spinel could say a word, Friede turned around and sprinted out of the alleyway, leaving Spinel sputtering behind him.
—
Out of all the ways Spinel had predicted this encounter could’ve gone, this was somehow not something he’d accounted for. Being left alone in the alley being babysat by Charizard? He didn’t know whether to question where the hell the professor had gone or to wallow in his embarrassment.
He didn’t expect to be caught by Friede so quickly (hence why he was out, despite his..”pitiful” state—he didn’t think anything would actually happen), as their chases typically lasted days longer, though maybe being sick had hindered his trailing abilities. Then, once he was caught and had to reevaluate what to do, his plan was to talk as little as possible to keep his throat from tearing itself apart.
Unfortunately for him, it seems he just couldn’t stop himself from mocking the other, throwing himself into a whole other predicament—every time he spoke, his throat just got worse.
And now the professor left. Leaving him supervised. Spinel didn’t think he could ever be more humiliated.
Umbreon was no help either—it seemed to pick up more on the situation than he did, and sat dutifully waiting for the professor’s return, like it knew something he didn’t.
Internally, he cursed at the Explorer’s limited sick days; he’d already used all of his. Though, it was his own decision to go out in the field rather than just working from his van the whole day. Even so, he could still be petty about it.
He couldn’t wait to go home. Nothing about this could be salvaged, in his eyes.
—
Friede sauntered back into the alleyway, now sporting a plastic bag from a nearby convenience store, filled with various sore throat and nasal medicine.
Yes, he hated the guy. But he still couldn’t stand seeing someone obviously suffering like that. It was for his own conscience's sake, he told himself.
He stepped closer to Spinel (though keeping a decent amount of distance—he didn’t want to catch whatever he had), and thrusted his arm out, beckoning Spinel to take the bag.
“This all should help, probably? I doubt it could make anything worse, at least.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as he spoke. Spinel just stared like a Deerling in headlights, so Friede continued. “C’mon, just take it and go home. I’d feel bad fighting you now.” Spinel still did not take it, until Umbreon tugged at his pant leg and gestured for him to just suck it up and accept the help. At least one of them can get over their ego, Friede thought with dry amusement.
Spinel finally took the bag, snatching it from Friede’s hands and taking a step back. “Why,” he muttered, lower than usual so as to not strain his throat too much.
“What was that?”
“Why on Earth would you try to help me. I knew you sacrificed logic for emotions, but to this extent? Are you an idiot?” Spinel spat, still lower and with a hint of raspiness. Friede swore his face looked a bit more red than before, but that might’ve just been from whatever he was infected with. Either way…
Someone’s in a bad mood. Yeesh.
“Listen, I know you’re not all too familiar with the concept, but some of us have morals. And basic human decency. I’m not just gonna let you sit here and suffocate.” Friede backed away, holding his hands up in an inoffensive manner. “Not everyone just goes around using people left and right. Some people actually care .” Friede did not let himself think about the implications of that phrasing. He would unpack all of that later.
Spinel grumbled something inaudible under his breath, before bringing out Beheeyem and teleporting him and his Pokémon away, leaving Friede alone in the alleyway as a sad attempt of revenge for earlier. Friede sighed, despite having fully expected this outcome.
“Charizard, return.”
—
The next day, Friede woke up to a sore throat, coughing and sniffling.