Thumbing through more notes than he’d ever have the hope to make in a year or maybe three, Angelo’s lips move in hushed mumbles as he confidently counts the wads of crumpled, dirty cash that had been collected from the spectators and thrust at the betting table. Not like the motion helped him with mathematics, thankfully; an uproar of jeers bellowing from the pit drowned out near everything.

Moonlighting as a bookmaker was not what Angelo would consider his usual go to for a quick cash in hand job. It was something that he had stumbled upon purely by chance, his spontaneous encounter with an organiser ended up with him being offered an opportunity that his empty wallet couldn’t refuse. One night assisting in counting up the bets and paying out the winnings – it seemed like an easy stint for a man who frequently brushed the bottom of his pockets, regardless of whether it was morally grey or not.

“Twenty, twenty-five… One hundred and thirty. Here,” he says loudly over the racket, pushing the last of the winnings for the previous bout towards a fidgeting man, who took it with greedily scrambling fists before darting off to watch the next fight. Supressing a sigh, Angelo ignores the other bookmaker at the table and avoids eye contact with the two, hulking bodyguards who stood close by to keep an eye out for any funny business – from both patrons and bookies alike.

It sounded like the next round was kicking off, judging by how the spectators huddled around the pit were beginning to get riled up, catcalls mingling with enthusiastic yells that gave away that the fighter was most likely not another toothless, meathead.

Standing up to stretch, Angelo zones in on the competitor responsible for the sudden rise in volume. Only, he quickly realises with bone chilling certainty, that while he doesn’t know the woman being punched to the ground as Hellcat he does know her by another name.

“Shit… No. Why you?!”

Someone obstructs his view as Skyler scrambles to her feet, lunging back into her fight but Angelo has already pushed his way out from behind the betting table, oblivious to the shouts that erupted behind him as he plunges into the thick of the crowd.

He doesn’t know what he was planning to do when he got down there. All Angelo knew was that he had to do something, his mind wiped until only raw emotions remained, his head shouting a million different things but all threatening to incinerate him from the inside out if he dared just do nothing and watch her get smacked to the ground again.

Not like it mattered what he intended to do, a pair of massive arms suddenly grab him from behind and although he manages to slip through one set of beefy fingers, aggressively shoving his way through an embittered, drunken crowd, more just take its place. “Fuck off, let me go!”

So he was let go. Right into the street.

Security physically drags him away from the pit as he struggles in their grip until Angelo finds himself ejected into the alleyway, shoulder colliding roughly against the brick wall and the door pointedly slammed in his face. His composure is lost, left behind in the fighting ring along with his knowledge of Skyler’s wellbeing and he begins to pace the length of the dark, grimy alleyway like an animal caged. Every part of him crackling with adrenaline, sharp and painful along every nerve.

He doesn’t know how long he waits, watching with piercing eyes as people start to leave but as the time drags slowly his anger starts to become overtaken with concern, each passing face that isn’t hers making him want to push his way past the bouncer on the door and back in there – regardless of if he’d get a beating or not. It couldn’t be any more agony than he felt standing here, feeling useless and trying to hold onto the mess of emotions waging war within.

That’s when he sees her, stumbling out of the alleyway door, leaning against the wall with a drink in hand and bloodied knuckles. She’s looking at the back of her wrapped hand when Angelo appears before her, voice not holding its usual teasing nor affection – blue eyes darkened from the dim light in the alleyway and the complex, ocean storm of emotions held within their depths.

“Hey, Hellcat… Having a good night?”

skyler dross

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he says without a pause for consideration, tone blunt as he dismisses the accusation thrown his way; pushing Skyler’s attempt of deflection away with one of his own. It’s easier to justify it when her reckless choices seemed more dangerous than his own. Besides, Angelo was beginning to recognise the familiar pattern of avoidance and his patience for it, stretched and strained from the sight of her bloodied stubborn form, was beginning to thin.

He catches the hiss spiling unbidden from her lips and automatically a hand rises, inching forward with a flicker of concern reflecting in his conflicted expression and in gentle, reaching fingertips. Only for it to fall back by his side in a balled fist. Something unpleasantly twists, mercilessly tight, in his chest but he’s unsure whether to place the blame of the source at Skyler or on himself.

“You’re hurt…” He points out, stating the obvious on a quiet breath before a weak, somewhat exasperated singular laugh tumbles out. “I mean, yeah, no shit. You were just in an underground fighting pit against some Emboar sized fucker.” His voice sharpens at the end as if hinting at a buried deep desire to punch said person in the throat.

Angelo tears his gaze away from her then. Looking at Skyler only proving to grate on his faltering attempts to keep himself contained, every splatter of red and blossoming of purple on her skin like kindling to the fire. Yet despite all that she puts on her armour, straightening herself, like she’s going back into battle again… There’s a poorly controlled sigh directed to the air as he peers briefly towards a starless, city skyline; trying to contain burning emotions through desperate, clenched hands.

“I know you do crazy stuff on the regular but,” he hesitates for a moment. Skyler being this wild, untamed person was something he liked about her. He loved how they would throw themselves into adventure like nothing could stop them, how it made him feel like there wasn’t a care in the world – like certain parts of himself didn’t exist. It wasn’t like he had any intention to contain her but there was a difference between spur of the moment recklessness and the premeditated decision to get into a fighting ring.

“Why do this?” His gaze falls back to her, searching desperately for something to help him understand.

Why do this to yourself?

skyler dross

Skyler had always avoided opening up about certain parts of herself. Angelo had not missed how the usually unruly woman, so easily warming him with her flirtatious light and wild spirit, sometimes clutched fragments close to the chest. Given away only when moonlit eyes dimmed with a guarded, thick fog. He hadn’t pressed her for answers during all of those times that she nudged him away…

Only now, standing in this grimy alleyway, Angelo was beginning to feel well and truly boxed out. Like cloud high plates of steel were beginning to rise between them, blocking him out and threatening to swallow up the warmth of sunshine – leaving him in its dark, lonely shadow.

he was desperate, frustrated, at the idea of her stranding him on some dock while she sailed out of reach… It threatened to crush his lungs with every painful rise and fall they take. Only he can't stand by and silently watch her sink herself, either.

She steps right up close to him but there is no warmth shared between their gazes, electricity of attraction replaced by the crackling tension of two people with their patience stretched thin, both backed up against the wall. Angelo’s expression twists into a sharp glare as they stand off in front of one another, his body remaining firmly tall as if a metal rod had been stabbed right through, replacing his spine with something cold and stubborn to keep his resolve. Skyler’s words, although whispered, may very well have been screamed in his face for the way it scorched his skin – yet he doesn't allow himself to step back.

“Just like how it wasn’t any of your business playing the damn hero for me.”

He feels himself cracking, the usually carefully composed surface of his blue eyes crumbling away like a layer of ice, leaving the dangerous dark ocean depths exposed; choppy and unrelenting from the storm. Skyler’s shoulder bumping against his is the final break, emotions pouring through the gap that she exposes, overflowing and uncontained like water through fingers.

“So what if you won? Want me to give you a medal?” His hand automatically snaps out as something deep within screams at him to not let her leave, fingertips winding around her upper arm with a tight grip, his insides burning as a mess of complicated emotions wage war. He can barely think through the smoke. “Congrats on getting the shit kicked out of you, Sky. Real impressive,” Angelo says on sharp, sarcastic tones that does little to mask the pained strain in his throat.

Frustration claws within him like something is tearing at him from the inside, made all the worse when it seems Skyler can’t seem to see or understand just how concerned he was for her… How afraid he had felt when he had seen her crumple to the ground.

“Is that it, then? Just going to tell me to fuck off and run away?”

skyler dross

Her demand for him to let go barely scratches the surface of his awareness, creating but the tiniest ripple within the waters of his consciousness, swallowed up by the sound of thunderstrikes and chaos. Although the voice was quiet, muffled in a sea of storms, Angelo couldn’t shake off the dreaded feeling that if he let go of Skyler’s arm then she’d vanish entirely – that whatever they had would slip through his fingers like a mirage in the mist. His grip subconsciously tightens, her fury be damned.

Facing her, Angelo watches as the woman before him becomes all bared teeth and sharp edges, like a cornered creature threatening to lash out with the intention of driving him away. Only his focus is lasered entirely on the way his heart pounds loudly in his ears, drowning out any semblance of coherent thought with its heavy drumming, each beat cracking more of his carefully placed shell and leaving his emotions bear with painful truth.

And he wasn’t used to it. Having long ago been conditioned to be the responsible one, to be the calm one who picked up after his siblings and set them back on their feet after lifting them off the ground with their bloodied knees. But Skyler was different. Being with her, talking to her, holding her in their usual affectionate embraces and this… Seeing her like this. It made him feel different, too. Made Angelo feel until it started to overwhelm in all of his inexperience to it.

“What do you think?” He breathes out, his last word punctuated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, strained with a frustrated growl as if it was something he thought she should have long picked up on. “I want to understand what’s going on with you. I’m trying to wrap my head around why my friend would want to do this to herself.” Blue eyes sparked fiercely, burning right into steel, unrelenting as he refused to crumble even as a gaze that once shimmered with an enticing warmth now silently promised him a fearsome battle.

“Because fuck me for caring about you, right?”

It pours out, unabashed and raw in its approach, Angelo finding his other hand rising until he’s gripping both of her shoulders; fingertips digging tightly into her flesh. “So what if it's none of my business... If giving a shit about you means I’m stepping over a line, then fine.” He wasn’t going to apologise for it, for how his stomach twisted with worry at her bloodied face and how fear had raked ice across his spine. All of that he had experienced in the fighting pit made Skyler’s fury in this moment, as sharp and dagger like as it was, feel easy in comparison.

“So talk to me already. It’s a really easy question, Sky.” If he squeezes her shoulders a little too tightly, he doesn’t notice; his vision and focus narrowed on her until everything else fades away.

skyler dross

Whatever it was that had poured out of his mouth, voice filled with more emotion than consideration to the point that Angelo really wasn’t sure on the exact wording that he’d used, it had shifted something. He almost didn’t notice, how Skyler hesitates under his grip and how her mouth parts with nothing sharp to follow, numb to the subtler details when his personal storm threatened to drown out everything in its wake.

Then her voice reaches him, puncturing through the torrential rain like a lighthouse beam; that ragged hint of desperation catching hold of his attention, hooking deep into his flesh no matter how small of a waver on her lips it had been. Suddenly he’s looking at the woman on the boat with the glazed over, foggy eyes again. She’s wearing Skyler’s skin, standing tall and as stalwart as ever like she’s ready to throw herself into infested waters at but the signal to advance, only the dulling of silver eyes hints at something weathered, faded and distressed underneath all the hard edges. That something wasn't right.

It’s a sight that drains him and the shaking breath that spills from her only proves to make his eyes widen from a cold chill, regaining clarity and colour even as his untamed emotions swirl down the drain; leaving him suddenly frozen like he had just been plunged into a winter bay.

Desperation still clung to his chest, his skin prickling from the charge of frustrated energy but Angelo could feel his muscles slack by an inch, fingertips that had dug into her shoulders loosening as her words began to satisfy in a bitterly painful kind of way. Dislocated...? His throat suddenly feels tight. An apology lingers on the tip of his tongue that is not uttered out loud; instead reflected in concerned blue eyes that still ripple with restless energy.

“Right…” He finds his voice again as her fingertips connect with his wrist, voice quiet and strained. Her touch crackles against his skin, making him want to flinch from the sensation, like she was the match to his roughened side that threatened to create a flame with one reckless strike. Instead his hands slowly draw back, falling by his sides, hesitating as his mind begins to process everything. “Let's get you home, then...”

Angelo is thankful for the slight chill in the night air as they walk back to her ship, his hands stuck in his jacket pockets as he walks quietly by her side, it gives him time to compose himself and fight off the weariness that threatens to settle over his bones…. Their battle wasn't over yet; even if he could feel that the nature of it was not like before. Angelo knew he needed to show her that he was not the one she was facing on the opposite side of the trench - that he was always in Skyler's corner.

skyler dross

He’s walked through the door countless times by this point in their friendship but tonight, as he crosses the threshold, there’s a new kind of tension in the air. Stuffy, despite the chill in the stagnant air that told Angelo that the cabin had not been occupied for a good couple of hours. It’s probably the first time that he’d walked into the Sotally Tober and not instantly made himself comfortable, instead feeling a little out of place as Skyler began to wordlessly move around, leaving him to his thoughts.

It’s the sounds of fabric hitting the ground that pulls his attention, Angelo peering out of the corner of his eye to catch a glimpse of bruised skin. Angelo’s gaze lingers for a beat and then turns away. There’s a little flutter in his chest but its small, a tiny winged thing in his ribcage, far too frail in comparison to the other messy feelings to pay much attention to. “No rush,” he says on somewhat weary tones, digging in his jacket pocket before turning on his heel himself. “Not going anywhere. Just got to make a quick call.”

In the kitchen he makes a quick call to the centre where he had left most of his belongings and pokemon. He had had every intention on going back there to fit in a few hours sleep after the stint in the pit – there was no way he would have taken his bike and gear there – but Angelo decided that this was probably unlikely now. After talking to the nurse on night duty to explain he’d pick everything up in the morning, he’s back on the couch; properly this time, jacket and trainers removed as he sunk back into the familiar shape of the cushions.

Skyler emerges from the bathroom not too long after that, walking past him in her towel and Angelo’s gaze casually drifts towards her before falling down to where he’s fidgeting with the braided bracelet of varying blue threads on his wrist; turning thoughts and memories in his head. She returns a few minutes later with a comment that sounds a lot more like her. “Yeah, can’t say I envy you there…”

There’s a moment of silence where Angelo wonders if the tension would stretch on. It’s a little unpleasant to wait but he knows that now was the time for him to be quiet, that this was now on Skyler’s terms. Thankfully he doesn’t have to stew in the thickness of the stuffy air for long – although the start of the conversation brings about its own brand of tension.

He doesn’t answer when Skyler says that he hadn’t meant to have seen her. It was obvious, if not from the act itself but from the way that she had reacted when she saw him. What was done was done… No going back now.

“I wasn’t near any of the hit cities when it happened… So other than what I’ve heard or pieced together from seeing the aftermath, I don't know much,” he says slowly, complicated frustration scratching in his throat. There’s something cold and uncomfortable sinking in his stomach. “And that you were there…”

skyler dross

Angelo remains silent as he’s plunged into her story and if it’s a haunting enough tale on its own, it becomes all the more chilling when he pieces together words with the scars he’d seen – on the region and on the people. Skyler’s side of the events filling in the picture of Lilycove which had previously been colourless; painting in the numbers with red, red and more red.

It’s only a second-hand view of her world but it still makes his blood run cold, everything within him twisting into a fierce knot, where breathing and thinking seemed out of reach when he was left to envision the war through her eyes. It didn’t matter if she avoided talking about her feelings, anybody who had experienced what she had would suffer for it; would carry it with them for days to come. Perhaps forever.

From witnessing someone she knew be ripped half apart, to commanding a ship to war, watching as the deck turn crimson amidst a pool of bodies as her hometown gets ravaged - other's eyes would turn from moonlight silver to haunted mist, too.

By the time that Skyler comes to a stop, ending on her explanation for her participation in the fighting pit, Angelo feels worn down thin. Not for himself but for her. He hadn’t been there to witness the horrors that she had but he knew instantly, if he could, he’d have traded places with her a million times over.

“Thanks… For telling me,” he breathes out softly, turning himself until his shoulder was pressed into the back of the couch, facing his friend and searching silver eyes. She didn’t have to tell him that story, not really. Skyler could have easily just shut him out if she had really wanted and for that, even though it had been a difficult thing to listen to, Angelo was grateful. This really wasn’t an easy question, he now knew.

“I mean, fighting, bottling it up... Even if I don't like the thought of you down there, everyone deals with their pain differently...” His expression reflects a hint of sadness – a slight regret for the ‘what ifs’ should she look close enough – as he slowly reaches a hand out to her closest, fingertips touching her skin in a light graze, as if testing the waters to see if she would pull away or not.

“And I’m not even going to even pretend to be a therapist or tell you what you should or shouldn’t do, if it helps you deal with things. But you know, if you ever feel like that…” There’s a brief pause, his tongue feeling a little heavy, unsure of how to word it without it coming across maybe a little awkward. Screw it, he thinks, there’s nothing wrong with telling a friend you care for them. And he does care about Skyler, a lot… “I can’t promise you a fight but if you ever need a distraction, I’ll do what I can.” There’s a small smile pulling onto the corner of his lips, words laced with a trickle of light-heartedness, warmth for her intermingling with the sadness.

This wasn’t the kind of pain that could be banished away with sweet words and an embrace but that didn’t stop Angelo from wanting to help ease her burdens, even if it was just for moments at a time.

skyler dross