"No. It was your job to report her."

He is firm, cold, but he does not move to close the distance between them. So far as he's concerned, this had been punishment enough.

"We must hold our own accountable for their actions. Orders are orders, and you will follow them or face the consequences."

Now she was facing the consequence of Aoi's own mistakes.

"Is that understood?"

How many times had he ratted someone out to Theo? Survive.

Their blood is on his hands as sure as Plank's is on Theo's — but not Gavin's. He fixes that as he steps away from the wall, steps into her space. Beckett would have slapped her for the tone she'd used, but Gavin merely tilts her chin toward him.

"Spend the night in the med bay. You have a concussion."

He recognizes the look. Glazed, unfocused eyes. From his jacket, a pokeball is produced — the same Lucario from their training in Shoal Cave materializes in the room, evidently uncomfortable.

It looks anxiously to Gavin, then starts its HEAL PULSE.

It will not do much; seal open wounds, reduce swelling — but the pain will stay. This, Gavin knows.

Do you think you deserve this? Gavin doesn't look at Theo.

"This is the man who trained me. Know that I have been lenient, but if you ever lie to me again—"

Threat lingers in a pregnant pause.

"Go get yourself cleaned up."

This had been the wrong call.

Vaguely, Gavin wonders if THEO BECKETT had felt similar upon unleashing Gavin's pent-up flame. He'd nearly killed his mentor in a fit of rage that should have been the death of him in turn. Would Plank go for his throat, if he told her to fight back?

He forces the thought aside, recalls Lucario before her strike can land.

"Lay a hand on my Pokémon and I will break it, Vela."

His glare follows her all the way out of the room.