A summon to the sub. She’s suspicious, cautious. It shows in the way she has the Gengar hide in her shadow instead of the Gardevoir. She fears Cillian Quinn would be able to sense the Shadow Pokemon and in turn the fear that lingers from their past few encounters.

The door softly creaks when she pushes it open. A subtle inspection of the room gives her the resolve to enter and sit down. She purposefully chooses a seat on the other side of the table. Space is welcome. She lingers, standing beside the seat with an expectant hand placed on the back of it, “Mr. Merlino,” she greets in return to his nod. He brings up THEO BECKETT and she nods, “Yeah, it’s been . . . enlightening,,” she hated it, hated fighting. Ultimately it made her stronger, which is what she craves. Over all, it was working.

Cillian Quinn

Though he cannot sense the Gengar that lurks within her shadow, Gavin hones in on her fear like a Sharpedo senses blood in the water. He draws no satisfaction from it, focused on Killian Decker's words.

You robbed her of what little choice she had left.

She remains standing, hand on the back of the chair.

Old Rocket had trained him like a dog, to obey. THEO BECKETT's sharp whistle, Blackwell calling him 'good boy' when he'd barked submission on command. The memories sour in his stomach.

"Please, sit. Relax, if you can. You're not in danger."

He gestures to his cigarettes, nudges the pack and ashtray closer to the center in a silent invitation.

"I spoke to Killian. I know you told him about what happened, but I want you to know I'm not angry." She traded one cruel boss for another. He thinks of Chu-e Choi. What happened that so many of our members are starting to fear you? "Apologies are meaningless; the damage has been done. But I am trying to avoid a return to Rocket's past. I handled your situation poorly."

He takes a drag of his cigarette, both to soothe his frayed nerves and to allow her a chance to interject. Sylveon's ribbons pulse with the suggestions of a CALM MIND.

Fingers tap the back of the chair anxiously. She doesn’t even notice. There’s still hesitation when she’s told to sit and relax. A part of her wants to laugh, relax, yeah right. She sits, sliding into the chair and leaning against the table. There’s nothing relaxed about the tension in her shoulders. Experience told her otherwise, danger always lurked not far from anything Rocket had their claws in. This sub isn’t her territory, it is his. Naturally, that brought discomfort.

She tenses when he mentions Killian’s name. His threats from their last meeting ring loud in her mind. Although Gavin says he isn’t upset, a part of her doesn’t believe that. Her features turn sour at the unpleasant memories, “It wasn’t something I could hide,” and she was scared, terrified actually. She desperately needed his comfort.

Lex doesn’t smoke, so she subtly shakes her head to reject the offer. When she was summoned for this meeting, she wasn’t sure was to expect. It definitely wasn’t this. The conversation takes an unsuspected turn. It’s not an apology, but it’s probably the closest thing she’d get to one from him. She doesn’t quite know what to say, or what he wants her to say. His words hold the implication that he plans to do things differently. Good.

Cillian Quinn

Gavin nods, accepting her words.

"It's why I advised against confiding in him, rather than forbidding it."

Had it been forbidden, their need to comfort one another would have been overcast by the knowledge that an order had been disobeyed. You know what happens when you fail. He knew, too, the importance of emotional support.

His chest aches as he thinks of Emma, lungs burning with a smoky inhale.

"I need you to know that I wouldn't have let him kill you." His fingers drum rhythmless against the table in a self-soothing gesture, Sylveon kneading with its paws. "It wasn't a punishment. Only in hindsight did I realize how it might've seemed like one."

There's a certain note of discomfort to his tone as he admits his blindness.

"I recruited you, Alexandra. That makes you my responsibility. Rocket is — different, now. I am still adjusting. It's been thirteen years, and only two of them to undo the damage done by the rest. I do not want to be to you what Silas Blackwell was to me." He recalls an old conversation, and one cruel boss to another. "What Kaito was to you."

Lex did notice that it wasn’t an order to keep it from Killian. For that, she is grateful. She wasn’t forced to choose between him and Rocket. Eventually, that day may come but she’d cross that bridge when it did. She pushes the thought form her mind with ease, well-practiced.

She’s quiet and listens as he explains himself. Whether he is sorry or not or whatever his intentions were didn’t matter anymore. What’s done is done, there’s no changing it. She was bruised and broken, and Killian Decker rebuilt her. For better or worse, who knows? Whatever she became now is still to be seen. It isn’t the threat of death that festered now, it is knowing that whatever sliver of innocence she had left was snuffed out by forced brutality.

Still, he seemed . . . sorry? Is she reading that right? “Hm,” she exhales at the sound of Kaito’s name. It doesn’t stir the same fear it once did. Perhaps that meant something, “I appreciate this,” she decides after a moment of consideration, “Thank you,” Regardless, she’s still uncomfortable, but forces herself to relax slightly, leaning back in her seat. After a moment of silence she decides to speak, “Is the offer to train with you still open?” Why have just Beckett, when she could have both?

Cillian Quinn