the pain was excruciating. his leg buckled unexpectedly, and his hood was ripped off his head to yank him down further. his arms came up to shield his head as he found himself at level with too many kicks.

boss.

surely not, right? but if it was someone high up, maybe they could vouch for him—if he could just see who it was…

crumbling, he was finally able to reach a pokéball near his belt. he released it, unsure which one it was. moments later, a barbaracle was a swinging around to deliver a skull bash, sending the mightyena flying into the wall next to gavin with a sharp yelp.

blood ran onto the concrete from bo’s leg as he continued to try and defend himself from the ground. his barbaracle was making quick work of his attackers, but the mightyena was soon bounding back towards it, latching on with sharp teeth and swinging from the pokemon’s arm.

eventually, through a blurred, bloody vision, he was able to steal a glance over at the familiar face nearby.

”gavin!”

just in time for another kick to the face.

Cillian Quinn

☉

his head swam as he struggled for consciousness. he’d been beat badly before, but this time was up there with the worst. it might’ve been the worst. as they ran off, he spat blood onto the ground, in pain all over, breath ragged.

this was what he got for trying to walk a thin line that didn’t really exist. there were no gray pieces in hoenn’s violent game of chess.

gavin’s voice came in ringing ears. he was still on the ground, holding his leg. it felt terrible, and it was probably even worse than it felt. He didn’t want to look at it, but he knew he had to deal with it soon.

’what the fuck does it look like?’ is what he wanted to ask, at gavin’s question.

”they jumped me,” he coughed. ”i didn’t do anything.”

his barbaracle stood by, scowling at the disappearing backs of bo's attackers.

Cillian Quinn

☉

this was definitely going to hurt for a while regardless of what healed him.
at gavin’s initial words, bo realized, more at that moment than any other so far, he should’ve never come here—and if he made it home, he’d sure as hell never come back.

zarude stopped the bleeding, and, mad as he was, bo said anyways, ”thanks.” not trying to stand just yet, he then pushed to a more comfortable position still seated on the ground.

catching his breath, he looked over. blood was smeared across his face. a mess.

”i’ve just been coming here to visit a friend of my dad’s.” not just for the company, but to keep up with him, because he didn’t talk to his father anymore, nor did he ask CIAN MAHER or caden maher about him.

”nothing weird. nothing to worry about. you know i come in peace.” fuck that now, though. things had changed, but gavin didn’t need to know that yet. not if he wanted to make it out of this city alive.

he shook his head, sick of all of it.

Cillian Quinn

☉

how did he agree with gavin without saying ‘i should’ve known not to trust any of you’?

despite his mistakes, family had meant the most to bo. as the oldest of brothers, he’d been told it was his job to be there. to protect, and to support. when his dad had told him, of rocket, ‘this is your family now’, he had taken it to heart.

for two years, he’d given himself to them. when he’d left to finally tend to more of his own that he’d failed, he had taken for granted that his new brothers and sisters would understand.

then, naivety had turned into complacent denial as he’d aged into his position. he was climbing the league’s ladder now. the agreement for peace had been made when he was still a nobody. many things had changed. some people had never liked him, anyways.

”yeah, well…” he took a tired breath, and then pushed himself up on the weight of his good leg with a grimace. he had eyes like a wounded dog, pissed off but knowing than to bare teeth. ”learned my lesson, i guess.”

he’d had faith in his barbaracle, honestly. been moments from reaching for the other one, and he would’ve made it out. that’s what he told himself—and he wasn’t wrong. he’d be thankful, but he wouldn’t feel indebted to any of these people anymore.

”so i'm free to go?”

Cillian Quinn

☉

had he ever really been an ally? maybe, maybe not. during his first days out of rocket, he’d been worried about being followed and knocked off, even despite the promise of a peaceful exit. his father had stayed in his ear to make him believe that he was still a part of things, and that he could never truly get out no matter how hard he tried. it was his home, and he would always go home eventually.

he was writing his own destiny now.

spitting and wiping blood from his face, he winced again as he stood up taller, weight almost entirely on his good leg. his barbaracle lingered nearby, just in case he needed a hand.

would gavin have offered his aid otherwise? bo figured there was another option that wasn’t saving him or leaving him for dead, and it was imprisonment for something like trespassing perhaps, but he didn’t mention it.

”guess not.”

before he left, he hesitated.

”why, though? it would’ve been easy just to let that happen. in the case they killed me, nobody would’ve known.” and it would have been another league power taken care of. a traitor, as his father had called him.

Cillian Quinn

☉

it was spooky to hear those first words leave gavin’s lips. bo nearly felt his heartbeat quicken, prepared for another fight, however illogical it would have been. he didn’t dare let it reach his face.

then, the explanation brought him back down—but his old friend’s reasoning wasn’t that they’d spent time together in the past, and had each other’s backs. it wasn’t because of what bo had taught him. at least, that wasn’t what he said. maybe it was look in bo’s eye that he didn’t realize was there that had changed things, or maybe it was the distrust in the question itself.

regardless, things were different now. and gavin was an underboss.

bo was wordless for a long moment, as though letting it sink in for both of them. silent implications hung in the air.

he nodded finally.

”i only did what i had to. you know that.”

his gold eyes lingered for another moment. ”thanks, gavin.” and then he turn his back and walk the other way, in one final show of trust.

Cillian Quinn

☉