EVERYTHING IS BLUE

AND ALL I SEE IS YOU

MANY REMAIN PETRIFIED FROM THE INTERDREAM ZONE. Abnormal dreams manifested into reality, scions of realities splintered into the hands of those ill prepared to face the consequences of unbridled ambition. For every success, elsewhere lies a failure.

Fernando remains stalwart despite it all. His own misgiving about the encroaching mist means keeping away from it all. If they prove anywhere near as potent as his own, the outcome is obvious. And it is that precaution that spares him the horror of his own what-ifs.

“Coordinate with the Mossdeep staff. An immediate evacuation of those able bodied.” He reroutes several rangers that arrive on scene. Unable to find neither Sénon Game or Laurence Anderson, undoubtedly still sectioned off in the labyrinth of Unown, he commandeers the situation at hand.

“We’ll set a perimeter around the containment zone—”

He hears his name wailed from heaving lungs. There’s no doubt about it when it repeats for a second time. Duty calls, and otherwise he would’ve ignored it considering the occasion, but there’s little more he can do than conduct the coming numbers of first responders.

“Make sure no one approaches the gas. Assist those still stuck but not at the risk of being pulled in.”

He turns on his heel once they’ve dismissed. Wide eyes sweep through the crowd until they settle on a familiar set of brown pigtails.

The way he runs to her is more pronounced than it needs to be. From a glance, she’s a bit banged up but hardly worth crying over.

“Bronwen.” He gives her a quick once over, still distracted by the chaos at hand.

Stormy Silph

EVERYTHING IS BLUE

AND ALL I SEE IS YOU

UP UNTIL HER FALL, Fernando does little to console her. There’s not mcuh he can do aside from physically be there. Not until her hands wrap around his arms, pulling, latching onto him.

When her words finally prove cohesive, his eyes widen, darting back to the Space Center. “Where is Moltres now?”

Should the worst have happened, this goes above them, above her. Her title as Avatar proceeds all else, even that Bronwen. After all, Fernando never sets his eyes away from the goal.

The mission always comes first.

Stormy Silph

EVERYTHING IS BLUE

AND ALL I SEE IS YOU

HE HATES THIS. The quivering. Horrendous blubbering that makes no sense. To say Stormy doesn’t earn an ounce of his sympathy is a bold faced lie. But what is he supposed to make from the mess that unravels in front of him?

He cannot do anything. He is just as helpless, bottlenecked by her trauma as he tries to unwind what little he can.

“…”

Gone.

Moltres is gone. An Avatar without it’s patron. A Legendary he had the chance of prying from her incapable hands pilfered right out from under him.

Unacceptable.

But now is not the time for that. A whirlwind of thoughts are discarded—his mind is quiet with the held breath of a hunter waiting to take his shot.

And he does.

His arms wrap around her, looping across her back as he pulls her in close. They squeeze until their chest press against each other, burying her head into the canvas of his chest.

“It’ll be okay Bronwen.”

Because of the one silver lining form all of this. If she cannot recover that which she has lost…

Then he no longer needs her.

“I’m here for you,” for now.

“Everything will be okay.”

Stormy Silph

EVERYTHING IS BLUE

AND ALL I SEE IS YOU

HER QUESTION BEARS DOWN ON HIM WITH AN INTENSITY GRAVITY CANNOT MATCH. He can feel the weight of her request compound upon their situation. It’s improper to refuse but right now she’s nothing more than a burden.

It’s hard enough to carry the weight he already shoulders.

And yet he responds immediately, “of course.”

Resentment festers but their relationship proves more important than his own inner turmoil. “But I have work to do,” he responds in a lower voice, as if consoling a child.

Bodies continue to spill past them as workers barge into the Space Center to assist with evacuations.

Stormy Silph

EVERYTHING IS BLUE

AND ALL I SEE IS YOU

A REASSURING PAT IS THE LAST COMFORT HE’LL AFFORD HER. She pulls away of her own volition soon after, creating space, and leaving him to gather his bearings. The wet spot on his shirt becomes another meaningless detail in the backdrop as Fernando returns to the scene.

Some work is never done.

Stormy Silph

EVERYTHING IS BLUE

AND ALL I SEE IS YOU

“TCH.”

Keys are thrown onto a countertop in the foyer. They jingle when they land, planted next to a luxury brand wallet, realigned to be perfectly symmetrical as Fernando sets the alarm system.

“Yeah, make yourself at home.”

Tired. Annoyed. Exhausted. TAE, the traditional concoction of emotions Fernando embraces when he finally settles in for the night. They wear at him as he turns on the flat screen television mounted onto the kitchen wall.

“Cila, switch to HNN.”

Initial reports on the Star Soiree loop over headlines as Fernando places his phone face down on his computer desk.

“Go clean yourself up,” he says in passing, undoing the top button of his shirt.

Stormy Silph

EVERYTHING IS BLUE

AND ALL I SEE IS YOU

CONFRONTATION IS ALWAYS AWKWARD. Pride dignifies that he doesn’t obey. She is a guest, a burden, and should be grateful. But sympathy blossoms from the circumstances of her trauma. Ultimately, the latter wins, and Fernando turns off the television once his computer boots up.

None of that matters because she’s gone by the time it happens.

Whatever she does. However long she takes. It has no impact on him. When she returns, if at all, she’ll find him on his computer scrolling through multiple windows. A small synopsis of his own report sits in a text editor, covered in red underlines.

And, up to standard, Fernando continues to work without end in sight. He knows nothing else.

Stormy Silph