[attr="class","thadmain"]“The sub is a metallic hellscape and I’m so very thankful you rescued me from it. I was starting to go insane.” Not to mention living every day under the shroud of public knowledge-- of course the League knew where the sub was. Kepler got tired of waiting for the day Dahlia woke up and decided to press the carpet bomb button.

“And all I wanted was you. Look where we are.” He says it a bit dreamy as he turns away to start skewering the strawberries, careful not to poke his fingers. Ash asks him to whisk away with him to exotic locales, and Kepler thinks he’s joking, at first.

“Alola, maybe. Oh, but the sun. Kalos? We can sample the wine.”

[attr="class","thadpoke"]

[attr="class","thadmain"]“Oh, good, I’m very glad you didn’t intend to jump out of nowhere and scare the be-Arceus out of me. Because that makes it all better.”

He can’t help it. He’s cold and miserable and it’s making him be a bitch. He felt a little bit bad about it until she jumped into the early stages of a religious lecture and then he just laughed at her.

“Fucking hilarious. I’m doing research. What are you doing out here?”

He trips over a Durant that’s been frozen to the ground, its little mandibles clacking weakly. Borealis throws a hypnosis over it and Kepler secures it in a Pokeball-- a good addition to his Genesect collection.

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[attr="class","mittag"]

Ashley Shepard

[attr="class","mitmain"]

Kepler’d been on the edge of his seat the whole night. He had about twenty different devices set up to comb the Rocket radio waves, waiting to hear news of what was going on. A mess of nervous energy, he didn’t even need his beloved caffeine to keep him awake.
[break][break]
He’d managed to pick up part of a broadcast by Ashley Shepard and got to the part about ‘heavy damage’ being sustained before he’d lost his mind. Sick with nerves and fear he spent the next few hours in an anxiety-filled loop between puking and sheer destructive impulses. They were going to have to buy new pillows. And maybe a new microwave.
[break][break]
It's seven hours, 32 minutes, and 16 seconds in when he gets the Message-- it's faded, and scratchy, and it comes in and out, but he does hear it.
[break][break]I... I'm okay. Promise.
[break][break]
And he's holding his fucking radio transceiver and sobbing.
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I... I've seen enough of this hell for one day. I've done some things I can't take back. I've tried to get over last night, but it's hard to do it alone. It's so hard--
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"I'm right here," he sobs, rocking back and forth, but he can't reply because the signal's not strong enough. "I'm right here, I'm right here--."
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I'm so tired, Kep. I just want to sleep... but I can't come home yet.
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"Why not?!" he wails.
[break][break]
Love you. Be home soon.
[break][break]
And, alone in their apartment, Kepler crumbles.
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Eyes red and body squeezed dry of tears, hours later, he finally, finally, finally, finally gets a text from Ash’s number and he’s given himself heartburn from being sick with worry that he doesn’t even hesitate:
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Meet me on the beach.
[break][break]
“What beach?” he says, and his voice is raspy and broken and he's tripping over himself running around to find a teleporting Pokemon. He holds the phone in both hands and screams at it: “WHAT BEACH, SAWYER?”
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Ding.
[break][break]
“Slateport Beach.” He reaches a shaky, trembling hand towards Pluto. “S-slateport beach!”
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Pluto just stares at him.
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“Wh-what are you waiting for-- oh for the love of everything that is FUCKING holy--!”
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She doesn’t know teleport so eventually she just scoops Kepler up and flies him there.
[break][break]
It’s not a particularly good beach day. The dawn is hidden behind a gray sky and a cool shroud of mist overlays everything. But it doesn’t stop Kepler from wriggling free of Pluto’s arms and charging through the cold sand in his bare feet towards a remarkably familiar-looking silhouette against the horizon flocked with smoke-colored clouds.
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“Ash! Ash, Ash, Ash!”
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He skids to a stop, kicking up a spray of sand, chest heaving, and he wants to reach out and grab but he sees all the bandages on his boyfriend’s face and he pauses, hands hovering.
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“A-ash, are you-- okay?” Even though he knows that he isn’t, knows that he can’t be; he doesn’t want to make anything worse. "I got your message. I know you're not okay but-- but where can I hug where I won't-- re-break you?"
[break][break]
And of course there's going to be a conversation and Kepler's going to get to the bottom of what's gone wrong but he's so incredibly grateful to see Ash alive, breathing, and standing on his own two feet that he could scream and thank all the gods he doesn't believe in.

[attr="class","thadmain"]Kepler leans in to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s jaw. “Good. Good on all accounts.”

It isn’t long before a Joy orderly comes to show him back for his ultrasound. Kepler stands and tugs Ash’s hand.

“C’mon. I’ll show you how to read an ultrasound. You’ll get to see my funky heart valve, too. It’s actually pretty interesting if you ignore how crippling it is, occasionally. See…”

[attr="class","thadpoke"]

[attr="class","top"]

[attr="class","milkcredit"]MILKY

[attr="class","thadmain"]Ash still seems like he’s on the fence about all of this. Kepler feels bad for asking him to come.

“Ashley.” He says, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side, his tone measured and firm. Sometimes Ash got so in his head about things, it was hard to get him to come out of it. It was part of why, Kepler surmised, he’d had his whole episode on Mt. Pyre. “I love you. I’m going to be okay. Are you okay?”

He leans into his boyfriend as he promises him the position of house-husband, and his breath catches a little.

“The apron fits you better,” he says, in a rush, face turning pink.

[attr="class","thadpoke"]

[attr="class","mitchelpoke"]

[attr="class","thadmain"]Kepler’s laughter is harsh and sudden, but also genuine, as they make it to what is considered the ‘ground floor’ of the tree. “I can respect it,” he said with a smile, “it’s a hell of an ambiance.”

He stepped over a long, green tendril and hummed thoughtfully, looking around them. Mist as thick as smoke threaded through gnarled roots that bulged in places, pockmarked and misshapen, like skulls of conjoined siblings. Kepler kept thinking he saw lights in the distance, flashing, but when he turned, there was nothing.

“Maybe,” he said, rubbing at his eyes, “maybe they made a wish.” It was a bad joke. They were talking about possible life or death of their compatriots, for fuck’s sake. But still.

“Does it look… normal, down here?” Kepler asked, and his voice echoed eerily in the gloom. The mist seemed to be getting thicker. He stepped back and smiled up at Temp. “From what you recall in between clapping cheeks, I mean.”

[attr="class","thadpoke"]

[attr="class","top"]

[attr="class","milkcredit"]MILKY