Though he was not familiar with the particular hospital nicholas steele was at in Slateport City, Josh was more than familiar with the sterile environments contained within. No fewer than three times, he had spent long weeks confined to a bad while his battered body recovered. Pokémon healing was miraculous, greatly decreasing recovery time, but the wounds of Pokémon-based war were such that the healing time was offset by the injuries themselves being more severe.

Josh had heard of the Ranger's injuries; he had suffered a very similar one at the Prismatic Penitentiary. He had only days ago finished his final rehab session, and even then, his arm still cried in dull pain when he rode at full speed on some of his fastest, meanest Pokémon. The stresses of a Raikou Quick Attack on his body were immense. Much like any of his other fast Pokémon, it was less that he was training them and more than they were training him.

Taking the main elevator to Nick's room, Josh knocked on the Ranger's door, the dull RAINBOW FEATHER pinned to casual wear with a piece of art he had commissioned before he came to Hoenn. One of a black-haired young man standing next to a Raikou. Standing next to the young man was a white-furred Zeraora just a little shorter than he was: one of the very few bipedal Pokémon the Gym Leader recruited onto his team.

"It's Josh. Can I come in?"

Upon hearing the invitation, Josh twisted the door's handle, opening the heavy entrance with a loud creak that made his eyebrows drop. "That door could use a little oil," he remarked, his Shiny Zeraora walking behind him. Though the electric-type was muscular, his thighs were ripped, showing just the level of prowess Zaborg had in the saddle. Both waved toward Nick before taking a seat on the sofa-like seat wide and long enough for one to take a nap on.

"What happened?" the Champion asked. "Was it the war?" He had managed to avoid injury in the most recent skirmishes, though his most valuable partner had suffered the equivalent of a serious one. Not even drawing the Sign would get the Beast out of the feather that contained him. It was taking an awfully long time for the Raikou made of ash to recover. Was there another way to restore the feather's light?

Josh gave the white electric-type a gentle cuddle before facing Nick and truly paying attention to his story. The mention of control over shadows made his eyes widen. He had run into someone that matched that descriptor before. Someone that not even his ultrafast Zeraora, Raikiri, was a match for. "Did he use this giant, purple, bird dragon Pokémon?" he asked. Recognizing the gestures as ones he had made, he knew generally where Nick was hurting. Though it was not the same circumstance, he seemed to have lost movement in the same places the Champion did.

Josh felt empathy toward his Ranger friend. He had been cooped up in a room for weeks during one of the busiest parts of the year, far as his Gym was concerned. He had been blessed with inheriting Kyle's Sacred Ash Raikou. He wanted to sit on the Beast's thundercloud and slam the metaphorical gas pedal into the floorboard, claws screeching against the ground like rubber on asphalt. He wanted to create hurricanes from the wake of his legendary mount's blistering speed. Even now, he had to hold back some. With a few more weeks of training, though, he would at long last be a free man from his injuries.

"I went through the same thing you did during the spring and part of the summer," the Gym Leader consoled him. "I hated it. There's nothing as torturous as being unable to do the things you've taken for granted. When I had to be admitted to Mauville Regional Hospital after my left arm got smashed in that damn jail, it took me almost three months before I could even sit in a saddle. I've been through it, too. If there's anything I can do to help you, say the word. I'll do my best to make it happen."

Josh gasped upon hearing Nick's account. That confirmed that they had faced off with the same person. One that had nearly taken Rsikiri's life one stormy night on Route 123. "You are fortunate to have escaped with your life," Josh's voice dropped as he spoke of Cillian Quinn . "That man, Gavin Merlino, was once the most wanted man in Hoenn. He may still be at the top of Hoenn's Most Wanted List. He might be the single most powerful man in the world. Not even the League's Avatars stand a chance against him on their own. He can turn your own Pokémon against you. He and his Pokémon are soulless. Completely soulless." Josh had that experience before; there was a brief stint where his precious Manectric had become a Shadow Pokémon. A machine of war that refused to let Josh sit in his false thundercloud saddle. As a Shadow Pokémon, he was completely different... and that experience only added to the Gym Leader's disdain for the closed-hearted creatures.

"Stay as far away from him and his Lugia as you can. As far as I've been able to ascertain, they're invincible. Immortal." It was, in his eyes, the reason that declan walsh had to be left alive. For if he died or was removed from power, Cillian Quinn was almost certainly next in line to take the position of Rocket Boss. And if the League fell, dictator of the Hoenn region.

Josh frowned upon hearing Nick's understandable frustrations. "I'm there with you," he tried to console him. "I don't know how severe your injuries are, but a full recovery took me around six months. I'm only just feeling at almost full capacity. Next month will be the real test." For once he had full movement in his left arm again, he would challenge it once again with the use of a Z-Move he had not experienced since prior to his capture at the end of April. One he desperately wished to teach to Swift, but he just could not crack the code. A code that would take a long time to crack.

Whether luck or skill, Josh was grateful that Nick had survived an encounter with what he thought was Hoenn's most dangerous man. He had yet to encounter BARNABY FINCH in combat, and based on Nick's account, it may have been for the best that he didn't. Their powers were similar enough that one could easily have been mistaken for the other with just words alone. Two powerful and separate Rocket agents of shadow.

Josh remained silent, though he equally despaired when face to face with one of Rocket's Avatars. It was part of why he took on a courier role in the war. He wasn't a fighter like Navy was, but he could do one thing well, and that was run. No one could carry a message across a warzone faster than Josh and his ashen Raikou could. And not even the gods could catch him were they to give chase. For though Swift was but a husk, he still had the capabilities of the Johtonian god of speed.

There was no outrunning him.

Josh inhaled, slowly letting the air out through a slit his lips had formed. "I occupied myself with my other interests while I couldn't enjoy my favorite ones. Had PSPN on TV a lot. Even had one of my Gym Trainers come to my house and set up one of my old consoles I used to play on when I was younger. Played games that I could play with only my good arm. What else do you enjoy doing?"

"Really?" Josh asked Nick. "No video games, books, movies, anything like that?" Unusual, but not unheard of; the kinds of people that only enjoyed the outdoors were the ones that were most prone to going stir-crazy when confined to a bed and hooked up to an IV. Josh, too, enjoyed being outside with his Pokémon, feeling the rough and tumble of a strong and speedy Pokémon's gallop. The young Gym Leader had no shortage of powerful steeds; he could deploy an entire Hoennian cavalry force with how many Pokémon he had trained for it. He loved riding more than anything else. When he couldn't, though, he had other interests to keep him going.

So Nick did have other interests, after all. Josh would never have pinned him as an ornithologist. "Have you ever flown on a bird Pokémon before?" he asked. "If you haven't, might keep your mind occupied looking up videos about flying. Maybe even teaching yourself the ins and outs of flying on one before actually getting in the air." All the classroom-type education Pokémon pilots had to take before sitting in the saddle for the first time and taking off. "Tell you what. When you're feeling better, stop by Mauville Gym. I've got more flying Pokémon than you can imagine."

He wasn't kidding, either.

Loved, not loves. A sign that Nick's daughter was no longer alive. From the sound of it, perhaps cruelly and unceremoniously. His lips tilted upward solemnly, his head down. He had been robbed of family members before, though their theft was temporary, lacking the permanence of death. One day, the Great One would come to rapture Josh's own parents unto the heavens. He hoped it would be peaceful and in their sleep, rather than beneath the debris of a collapsed apartment... or worse. "Just like I wouldn't trade my love of the saddle for anything else. Land, sea, or sky, I love them all."

Nick's problem was far worse than Josh's, from what he could ascertain of the injured man's last remarks. He wouldn't trade soaring with nothing but feathery flesh beneath him for anything in the world... yet he seemed to lack the drive. A motivator to look forward to getting back in the saddle. If it wasn't about studying flight or even the rush of flight anymore, then what?

"It's about just being with your bird Pokémon, isn't it?"