"So, Glass Jaw, what happened?" Haven said in a gentle voice at odds with her words.
"Run into another 80 pound girl?" Rai's eyes flew open at the sound of the familiar voice. He thought, or perhaps hoped, he'd simply been hit hard enough in the head that the face in front of him belonged to someone else besides Haven. But when several long moments passed without the illusion fading, every line in Rai's face creased into a snarl.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he croaked out, despite his sore throat.
Haven's eyebrow lifted.
"Playing doctor." She grabbed the glass from the table and held it out to Rai, the tip of the straw poking at his lips.
"Drink.""Find someone else to nurse." he spat back, trying to blow the straw away from his face.
The corner of Haven's lips quirked up as she kept maneuvering the straw to prod him.
"Y'know, I would but it seems like you're the only one delicate enough to need nursing. So I guess I'm stuck with you." She probably shouldn't have been harassing an invalid. She continued anyway.
"I'm not fucking curled up in a damned alleyway, am I?!" Rai would have been screaming if he could have forced his voice loud enough. Just because they'd had half an hour of conversation gave her the right to think she was better than him?
"So what's that make you? Now get the fuck away from me."Haven flinched back like he'd hit her, looking down at him with wide stunned eyes. Her lips parted. She looked down at him for a long moment, something fragile in her eyes. Then her mouth snapped shut into a thin line and Haven slammed the glass on the table. She'd turned and started to march towards the door before droplets of medicine had even finished spilling from the glass' rim. In seconds she'd reached the door, wrenched it open, left the room, and slammed the door shut again with a heavy thud.
Rai seethed furiously, straining to force his body to behave. Delicate? Did she have any damned idea?! He wrestled with his limbs to wrench himself away from the pillows, pushing the way his nerves screeched in prostest to the back of his mind. Where ever the hell he was, he'd been here too long already. He didn't need nursing, doctoring, or whatever anyone wanted to call it. He'd survived this long without their help, and he sure as hell didn't need it now.
Sweat was practically pouring off of him, as his arms and legs shook with the amount of effort it took just to push himself away from the surface of the mattress. His teeth ground together hard enough that he could feel his jaw creek, and the faint taste of copper hit his tongue. He refused to let himself drop back to the mattress and shoved himself to one side, and tried to swing his leg off the edge of the bed to start the arduous process of getting to his feet.
Without finer muscle control, however, it was llike he was slinging a 30lb weight off the edge of the bed. His precarious position balanced on his elbows, quickly dissolved as the rest of him followed his leg to the floor. He hit the hardwood with a dull thump and a small scream, as the pain burst back through the dam he'd placed and lay panting on the floor.
Haven stomped down the stairs, through the kitchen, (Blink and Lace gave her concerned looks as she passed them) and back to her room. She picked up her bag and turned back around. As she stormed through the house, she began tapping away at her tablet, shifting through different screens.
Soon enough, Haven found herself back in Rai's room. The door slammed shut again behind her as she marched towards him. She didn't react when she saw him on the floor, nor did he even lift his head to acknowledge her.
"Y'know what I find really helps people heal?" she asked in a clipped tone. She dropped her bag on the bed.
"Motivation." Haven rumaged through her bag, grabbing different tubes of paint and a brush. Medical equipment in hand, she walked to Rai's side and knelt down so she was close to his face. He turned a single bleary eye on her, wishing he had it in him still to shove her away.
She gave him a sugary sweet smile.
"You're welcome in advance." Haven straightened up and opened a tube of bright purple paint. Then she turned it over his back and squeezed. Cold paint plopped onto Rai's skin.
Muscles still tense from their evening locked in place suddenly turned to stone under his skin as the first blob of paint his his back. For a moment, the sudden shock of it was red-hot, not cold. In that split second, his scrambled nerves couldn't tell the difference. His breath stuck behind his Adam's apple and refused to move one way or another despite how hard he tried to swallow. He wanted to flinch away from her, but fatigue had been replaced with conditioning, and his body was locked in place on the floor. It didn't stop him from starting to tremble.
"H...ha..ven. St..op." Rai wheezed quietly, as cold sweat broke out across his forehead, still pressed into the floorboards. It was ok. He was fine. This was harmless, right?
"I've... I've seen better shit on the side of...railcars than what you draw... Don't scribble on me."Haven had written off his trembling and sweating as the leftover strain from apparently flinging himself out of bed and onto the ground. She paid it little mind as she moved the paint around his back to start making flowers.
"You want me to stop," she said,
"make me. Should be no problem since you're so tough." She knew she was being a brat, but her spite was stronger than her sympathy. Plus, in theory, this
might help him to get some movement back. (It definitely wouldn't. Haven didn't care at the moment.)
Rai let out a groaning breath of pure frustration, as both fists balled into the rug just in front of his head, as if it would offer some leverage against the force of gravity holding him in place. He managed to scoot himself a few inches along the floor, before his arms gave out again and he came to a halt still well within the reach of Haven's brush. Frustration was slowly starting to give way to anger. At Haven, himself, and the whole messed up situation.
"I'm...putting up with you... aren't I?" He snapped back in between gasps,
"Go paint with the rest of...the preschoolers. You'll fit...right in.""Can't. The teacher said I don't play well with others."He knew damn well he wasn't going to get her to stop now any time before she got bored. He couldn't do anything more than lay there on the floor as she dragged the paintbrush through the glob of paint in the middle of his back. He was better than this! People had been scared of him, some even refused to set foot into the Pits back home when he was on the dockets! He'd spent 9-goddamned-years, 9
long, painful years, to become someone who didn't have to lay sniveling face down in the dirt, and yet here he was now. No better off than the first day he'd been tossed into the Pits, at the hands of a fucking street artist armed only with a paintbrush.
Haven had finished the third childish flower when she paused to look down at Rai. He was an unmoving purple lump on te floor. It seemed like he'd given up, resigning himself to her paint.
Huh. I broke him.Her anger began to drift away as guilt mixed with sympathy and bubbled up in her chest. Why had she wanted to see him? Out of a sense of gratitude after he'd helped her through a panic attack or something?
Haven closed her eyes and sighed. Standing up, she carefully placed her brush on the table so the purple bristled hung off the edge.
He thought he'd be happier about the swirling bristles that felt more like steel wool against his back finally stopping. Rai could hear her shifting around somewhere outside of his field of vision.
She picked up the glass of medicine and took out the bendy straw. She turned it upside down so the short side was dipped in the juice and the long side came over the glass' edge. Haven kneeled down again by Rai's face, placing the cup on the floor and holding the end of the straw towards his mouth.
"Drink," she repeated.
"Before I pick a different color.""I'm partial to blue..." Rai muttered more to the floor than to Haven.
"If you're gonna go paint by numbers on me.. might as well be with my favorite color..." The venom in his voice had faded almost entirely, until the muffled words fell flat to the floor with him. Haven rolled her eyes.
He didn't want to even look in her direction. He had no idea where they were, or even why the hell Haven was there too. He could only guess it was just some new cosmic joke Arceus had decided to play in the ongoing series of them that made up his existence. It was already bad enough he'd had to rely on a bunch of strangers to pull him and Kye out of a no-win situation, but for someone to see him unable to even sit up under his own power just rubbed a handful of salt into the proverbial wound.
"Why the hell are you even here?" Rai finally asked,
"I don't want your help. I'm sure you could be doing literally anything else right now, so why don't you?Haven sighed again and stood, leaving the glass where it was, the straw still hovering close to his mouth.
"I'm here," she said, turned to her bag and grabbing an old sweater and a half-full water bottle,
"because I apparently suck at avoiding trouble. I got teleported last night with you and Forrest from Mauville. I'm the only one of us who can actually move, so I'm helping Forrest's wife –" babysit
"– look after you while she takes care of him. Don't worry, I'll be gone soon." Haven grabbed a sleeve of her jacket and gently as she could, started to wipe away at the paint.
"Sooner if you drink.""Nnngh!" Rai hissed, as the cloth touched his back again,
"Just leave it! You want to play doctor, but your bedside manner sucks..." Haven had to stop herself from just shoving the jacket into his back.
"Good thing I'm not a real fucking doctor then, huh?" "You're certainly better at throwing a punch, in my opinion."He looked back at the glass sitting near his head disdainfully. On principle, his first instinct was to tip it over right there, simply because she was demanding he drink it. Or bribing him to. His tongue darted out to wet his cracked lips, as he worked to uncurl his fingers one at a time from the grip they had on the rug and drag his hand to the glass. He scooted the cup a little closer and took a small sip of the medicine, grimacing at the taste now that he was awake enough to "appreciate" it. He reluctantly took another small gulp, before he set his head back against the floor. Haven kept her mouth shut, though a small drop of satisfaction rose up in her.
"Don't suppose I could convince you to help me get out of here too, eh?" Rai managed a half chuckle, suddenly feeling far too tired for doing so little.
"Don't really like being 'doctored' all that much...""Do you like being dragged around by someone half your size? Because unless you can walk around like a real boy, I don't think we'll get that far." "I didn't say I'd thought it through. I just... I need to get back to Mauville." It made him nauseous to even think about heading back after the previous night, but it didn't change the fact that whatever Dicky's errand really was, it wouldn't get done laying in some cottage bed (or on its floor).
But Haven had a damn good point. He really wasn't going to go anywhere without being able to put one foot in front of the other, and right now, the best he could do was a crab crawl for a foot or so. Whatever was blended in that glass made his joints and muscles a little less tense, but he wasn't going to be up and sprinting through Hoenn for a while yet. Certainly not before Haven was planning to leave by the sound of things.
"Look, dunno where you're headed in such a hurry, but you think you could do me a favor? Just keep an eye out for someone? She'd be about 17 by now. Don't have to do anything, just... tell me if you see her?"Haven was quiet for a moment before saying,
"Sure. I'll be sure to look for the only 17 year old girl in all of Hoenn so I can telepathically let you know when I find her." Haven rolled her eyes and sat back on her heels.
"Come on. Specifics?""I..." Rai stopped midsentence. How did someone describe a person they hadn't seen themselves in close to a decade?
"If it helps, she's from Johto. Her hair was too damn culy for her own good last I saw her, had to keep it back in a bun or it'd end up caught on something. You could lose her against the sand cause of the color. Got eyes greener than a damned Bulbasaur too, and she's not afraid to use 'em to get into trouble. Or out of it." Haven was quiet as he watched him – as she
listened. Something changed in Rai as he spoke about this girl. His anger melted away until all that was left was something small and sad. Something delicate. Haven felt like she was intruding on something far too intimate. Whoever this girl was, he missed her. He
loved her. He opened his mouth to keep going, and found the lump was back in his throat. He felt like a complete fool grasping at straws.
"Sorry. Don't know anything more than that."Rai reached for the glass again, and shuffled himself experimentally.
"Look, I'll-uh, finish this and get back into bed. You can tell Forrest or whoever I'll be out of here soon too. Don't want to overstay my welcome." And just like that, Rai was back.
Haven looked down at her hands, one clutching her stained jacket, the other wrapped in gauze. She wasn't sure what to do with herself. Haven pressed her lips together before she forced herself to speak.
"What's her name?""Samantha," Rai said slowly, before adding,
"Samantha Kurin."Haven gave a small nod. She looked from Rai to Kye to the bed. They'd figure it out. She'd… done enough. Standing up, Haven started the process of putting away her things, wrapping her wet brush in paper towels before throwing it in her messy bag, and capping her tube of purple paint. She rumaged around in her bag for a blanket.
"I'm gonna get you back for the mural, you know." Rai grunted, struggling to sit up with Kye's help.
"Some of my best work," she said as she laid the blanket out on top of the bed. It probably wouldn't do to get paint all over Jeanne's sheets. Haven reached in her bag again for a loose scrap of paper and a pen. She scribbled on it and dropped it on the table.
"My number's on the table," she said, looking back at Rai.
"Text me and I'll let you know if I see her." The chances of Haven running into one girl in all of Hoenn were slim to none, she knew. But oddly enough, she meant what she said. She lifted her bag onto her shoulder.
"Try not to get yourself killed, yeah?""I won't if you won't. Gotta make it fair, right?" Rai gave Haven a small grin as she started to leave.
"You're the self proclaimed trouble magnet after all." Haven hummed a small laugh as she passed him.
"I can usually walk away from my troubles, though.""Smartass."Haven opened the door and gave him a wink. Then she left the room, closing the door behind her.
Haven rapped her knuckles on the door to Forrest's room, before grabbing the doorknob and tentatively turning it. The door cracked open, her head peaking through it. It seemed Jeanne had returned downstairs, most likely to tend to her children.
Forrest was lying in the bed, eyes closed. His chest rose and fell slowly with a slight quiver. His body was slightly damp with sweat. The sheet only covered his legs, keeping contact with his skin to a minimum. Because, of course no cloth could ever touch his chest. A physique like his apparently demanded to be constantly shirtless. His face was still, stony, and seemed stuck in a slightly pained expression. It was clear he was still unconsious, though possibly by choice in order to rest so he'd sooner heal from his paralysis. His skin was blotched with reds and whites. Some veins were sunken and others were pushed out against his uneven skin. He may not have been physically maimed like her, but it was clear that the internal damage was quite severe. But, then, she'd never been struck by a Thunder Wave, before.
The ends of his hair were pulled to the side and away from his body. Something had happened. The tips looked white, ashened. The length was much shorter than Haven remembered. Was this an effect from the attack?
Haven pushed the door open a bit more, creeping into the room. Her steps were quiet as she approached the bed. She looked down at her constant savior. Her eyes glanced around the room. Finally she opened her bag to pull out another loose piece of paper and a pen.
Placing it on the bedside table, she began scribbling a hasty goodbye note. It felt wrong to just leave without at least saying goodbye… again.
Note completed, Haven straightened back up to look at him one more time.
"Well," she murmured,
"See you around, I guess." Actually, she really hoped she
didn't. Because if she did then it meant she was probably about to die.
Haven turned and tiptoed back to the door. She left the room and walked down the stairs, towards the kitchen.
Elizabeth, Haven remembered, was helping Rowan, Lace, and Blink clean and put away the dishes used for breakfast just a few minutes ago. It seemed he'd finished playing with Cloak and Dagger, probably at the behest of his mother. The children seemed to pay little attention to Haven. She suspected Jeanne told them to not pester her. Out the window to the back yard showed Jerrek watching over Shelynn play with Cloak and Dagger and some other Pokemon, though she couldn't quite see its form as it faded in and out of existence.
Blink and Lace paused what they were doing to look up at her. Haven raised a hand slightly to let them know they could continue helping the kids for now.
"Hey Rowan," she said to the boy,
"we're gonna leave pretty soon. Do you know where your mom is?"His head turned and rose to face the woman, but his hair still blocked most of his face. "
I don't know," he said with a wondering that mimicked Haven.
"
I think she's in the den," Elizabeth clarified as she turned to place a cleaned dish onto a towel for Blink to then dry.
"Thanks." Haven made her way there.
The den was so much brighter. The curtains were drawn exposing more of the field that was apparently all their own. The group of Pokemon around the two children seemed to increase and the positivity among them almost contageous - almost.
Jeanne was tidying what little of the room she may have percieved as "messy" with a bundle of clothing in her arms. At a second glance, Haven could tell they were her own from the other night when she hadn't the time to wash them herself so she could flee her husbands aid, only to find herself now in hers. "
Is there anything else you'd like me to wash before you go?" she asked in her persistently joyous tone that could make any cynic sick.
"Oh, no you… you don't have to wash anything. I'll take care of it in town." Why was hospitality always so hard to escape?
"Thanks, though. For everything.""
Oh, nonsense," she said with a playful scoff. She began to walk around the truly enormous desk and toward Haven. "
Now go upstairs and take a shower before you kill my houseplants," she said with a tone that betrayed the playful smile on her face.
"That's not the smell, that's just a natural talent I have." Damnit, this woman was gonna trap her here with motherly care.
Jeanne just giggled as the only response to the witty quip. She then began to guide Haven back out of the room and toward the stairs, tantilizingly close to the front door. "
You'll find all you need in there. I'll start your laundry while you're in there."
"I really do need to get going though. I was supposed to meet a client for a painting." Haven understood how this worked. First she was gonna put her laundry in the wash, then she was gonna start lunch, then she was gonna ask Haven for help cleaning something, and reason after reason was going to pile up to keep her in the house until Jeanne thought she was good and cared for.
"I already pissed him off once. I'm probably gonna lose his business if I'm late again."Jeanne stopped and looked into Haven's eyes. Prying. Her brows tilted down slightly and a gloss formed over her eyes, somehow making them shine even brighter. She could clearly tell how desperate Haven was to leave here, leave their home, leave their protection. Jeanne remembered how Haven mentioned 'it'd be safer.' She now had a better idea of what that could mean.
A tender hand rose to wrap around Haven's unbandaged arm, but she immediately flinched back. Jeanne continued to gaze into Haven's soul, it seemed. She could percieve more than Haven felt comfortable.
"
Why are you so frightened?"
Shit. Time to evade.
"The guy's a real prick with a lot of connections.""
No," Jeanne said, interrupting the lie. She shook her head slowly as if still interpreting Haven's inner being, assessing her mannerisms and posture to figure out why it was she was seeing Haven's fear.
"
You're frightened," she repeated as if revealing to Haven her own state of being. "
Why?" Her tone was softer, now, sympathetic but without pity.
The empathy Jeanne possessed made her curious. She moved her hand to, once again, touch Haven's arm, but stopped short, anticipating the gesture to further rile an already frantic mind.
"
Please, sit down with me a moment," she asked in a somewhat demanding tone.
Son of a bitch, Haven was about to get Consoled. And Mothered. She almost would've prefered the Mauville explosions.
She hesitated before following Jeanne's command, stiff and still. She didn't look at her. Jeanne sat at the other end of the couch, giving Haven plenty of personal space. Her brows furrowed as Haven's attitude shifted slightly.
"
What's wrong?" she asked, hoping the vagueness would allow Haven to respond with almost anything Jeanne could use to help in any way she could. She hoped the tone was tender enough, considerate enough for Haven to share
something of value. Haven's eyes darted up to meet Jeanne's before quickly shifting away.
What isn't? Haven gave a quiet huff to herself, hating her own self-pity. She glanced back up at Jeanne.
"I…" The words caught in her throat. She closed her mouth and tried to swallow. When had her throat become so dry? Her mind worked to try and say something,
anything to satisfy Jeanne so they could stop talking and Haven could leave.
"There's an egg," she finally said. She wanted to kick herself. Really?
That's what she could come up with?
"I have to…" To what? Sit on it? Throw it off a cliff?
"I don't know if anyone's still after it… but people have gotten hurt over this egg. You have four kids and two bedridden men. You don't need this, too." She didn't need Haven causing more problems.
Jeanne took a moment to consider Haven's concerns. It was a valid concern. "
How many people have gotten hurt?" she asked, almost rhetorically, but with genuine interest.
Haven gave a small shrug.
"Four, that I know of. More if you count the pokemon.""
Including yourself?" she asked, noting the distance Haven put between her and her injuries, or, rather, what caused them.
"Including the two guys your husband put in a coma." It was a half-hearted mutter, avoiding Jeanne's question. Something was tightening around her throat.
"
Ah, so that's what happened," Jeanne said to herself. "
Do you remember what happened?" she asked, hoping Haven would at least tell her what her husband was up to instead of having dinner with her and their children.
Haven's eyes were glued to the floorboards peaking out from under the rug. Lightning flashed and venom burned her blood.
She shook her head.
"He probably remembers more than I do." He probably wouldn't break down into a crying mess if he talked about it. The lump in her throat grew harder, straining her voice. Something hot sat behind her eyes. Her nerves itched under her skin, begging her to be anywhere else, anywhere but
here in this conversation.
Jeanne hummed. Haven shifting in her seat was more than enough to tell Jeanne how uncomfortable she was. "
I'm sorry," she hushed. There was a lot Haven was holding back that wouldn't come out easily, if at all.
"
It's safe here," she tried to reasure Haven. "
We're a mile from the closest city. We're in the middle of the woods. My husband wouldn't leave us alone if I didn't know how to take care of us," she confessed, almost boasting. "
But, if you think you need to be elsewhere, at least let Syressa Teleport you to wherever you need to go. The Petildale Forest isn't the safest place to be traveling."
Haven gave a small nod.
"Thanks." She glanced back up to Jeanne. Her muscles felt locked in place. She forced her hand to move, and it cracked to life like it had to break through a layer of mortar and stone to even lift. She pushed her hair behind her ear.
Her still spell finally broken, Haven stood.
"I left my number with Rai," she said after a moment of hesitation.
"If… I dunno, if anything comes up. You can get it from him." And see the purple mural she'd painted on the recovering paralysis patient's back, she realized, eyes widening.
"He's sleeping, though," she said in a rush.
"Probably shouldn't… be disturbed for a while."Jeanne's brows twitched in confusion, not quite understanding why Haven was repeating back her own instructions as if she hadn't given them. "
Very well," was all she said and rose from the couch. Her tone was understanding, level.
She walked back to the den, Haven's clothes still clutched in her arms as if carrying an egg. She folded them quickly with surprising neatness and placed them back where she found them, spotting the egg in Haven's bag as she did.
"
Ah, so this is the culprit," she said with playful accusation. "
I'm sure it's brought you some resentment."
She placed a sympatheic hand on the egg. It was warm, well cared for. But, if she interpreted Haven's behavior correctly, it could also be a large part of her panic.
"
I wouldn't mind taking care of it, if you're not comfortable," she offered. "
I'm not Mrs. James, but I've hatched a few Pokemon in my life. We can contact you when it hatches, if you're interested."
"Thanks, but…" Haven looked at the egg. She thought of everything she'd been through for it. She remembered the sense of responsibility she'd felt for it that'd sent her out into a storm twice. This egg was a pain in her ass. But that responsibility still lingered.
This damn thing was gonna get her killed.
"I can handle it." Besides, running because she was afraid people hunting for the egg would come after her, but
leaving the egg with this family seemed counterintuitive. The idea was to get the egg (and herself)
away from them, afterall.
"I'll text you a picture when it hatches." If Haven didn't get it smashed before then. Or she didn't die.
"
I wish you the best, Haven," Jeanne said in response.
Her entire body wished to embrace Haven, to exude positivity. But Jeanne kept to herself, respecting Haven's personal space.
"
Just think to Syressa," she started, pointing above them in the vague direction of where the boys' room was, "
where you want to go and she'll take you there."
Jeanne's eyes were full of sadness. Sadness for her own failure to help Haven and sadness that someone so broken refused any kind of help. But there was a strength in her that was shattered. So she wouldn't compromise Haven's broken ego, which proved more devastating than her physical wounds.
Jeanne left the room in silence and without a word.
Haven let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding when Jeanne was finally gone. The pity in the older woman's eyes… the sadness when she looked at Haven…
Somehow Haven felt even worse after that conversation. Like a broken, hopeless thing Jeanne couldn't help. Like she was a disappointment somehow.
How in the
hell had that happened?
Guilt mixed with frustration, and finally, annoyance. Memories flashed in her mind of her mother crying at the kitchen table to her older sister, asking what she was supposed to
do with a daughter like Haven? Why she couldn't just be manageable, for her mother's sake, for
once?
Haven was sixteen years old again hiding in the hallway as she bore witness to the heartbreak she caused. Why was she
here again? After everything she'd done and everything she'd been through, why was she on the verge of tears because she felt
guilty?
Her breath came too quick – too shallow. Tears burned behind her eyes, fighting to escape. Haven squeezed her eyes shut, her lips pressed in a thin line as she tried to calm herself. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides – but her left hand could barely curl without shaking.
With a frustrated sound Haven dropped back onto the sofa, bringing her palms up to press into her eyes. Something touched her arm. She jolted upright, hands dropping.
Her entire team was standing around her, worried, conflicted looks on their faces. She hadn't even noticed them enter the room.
Blink's vines hovered above her arm before slowly moving forward to curl around it. Her own fingers moved to grab him and she hung her head. Haven closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing again.
"I'm–" what? Fine? That obviously wasn't true. Her team deserved more than a thin lie. They deserved more than to be brushed off.
She looked up and opened her mouth again. But she couldn't make the words come out. Haven let go of Blink and dropped into the back of the sofa.
"Life kinda sucks lately." Dagger lifted Lace off the ground to place her on the sofa next to Haven. The little Corsola scuttled into Haven's lap, the weight keeping her grounded. Haven looked down at her. Lace's horns were still broken pink stumps, slowly growing back after being shattered in the attack. Haven wasn't the only one still recovering.
With a quiet sigh she leaned her head back to look up at the ceiling. She was exhausted. A stray tear finally managed to escape, trickling down her cheek. She glanced to the side to see the egg peaking out of her bag.
"We need a break." They needed to put themselves back together and figure out what they were
doing. With the attacks, with the egg...
What was even the big deal about this egg? It sat innocently in her bag, peaking out under her clothes.
Haven lifted her left arm and slowly reached out. Her bandaged hand came down to touch it. First her fingertips. Then the underside of her knuckles. And finally her entire palm, the cloth of her bandage a thin layer between skin and shell. It was smooth and warm and still.
Then it moved.
It was the tiniest flinch, a minute kick from inside the shell, but Haven jolted upright like it'd shocked her. Lace gave an alarmed chirp at the movement as she scrambled to not fall from Haven's lap. Dagger jumped up on the sofa, pressing her nose against the egg to sniff at it. Cloak and Blink stared with wide eyes. The egg was still again.
Haven looked between her team members. Then a slow, stunned smile began to find her lips. She huffed out a small laugh.
"Guess we haven't killed it yet," she murmured. That was no small wonder. Haven looked to the egg again. She had no idea how to hatch an egg. Hell, she barely knew how to take care of
herself. But maybe... maybe she could do this.
They could do this.
An idea started forming in her mind. They needed some quiet and the egg needed somewhere it could hatch peacefully. Haven didn't know much about Hoenn's geography, but she did know about one place that'd be perfect for just that. Haven looked to meet Blink's eyes again before saying a single word.
"Lavaridge." Light surrounded them and in the next moment they were Teleported away.