He'd Be OK

Snowflakes danced and swirled around Angelo as he cradled a cup of coffee and hot cocoa in his hands. He’d been out by the bonfire too long, but memories held him tighter then he expected this time of year. Family, friends… so many people lost over the years. It hurt to think about. 

His aunt laying in a hospital bed, once beautiful brown hair gone thanks to chemotherapy. Gaunt, lacking appetite, and Radish, her Vileplume partner Pokemon, holding her hand, clearly distressed. That tired, aching smile she gave him when he stopped by. He wished he’d spent more time with her in the weeks prior to her death. The cancer had been rough on her, a dragon she couldn’t beat. He’d been young, stupid, and while mortality had been something he understood, he hadn’t quite grasped it in his twenties, not while his own future awaited. “She’ll be OK.”

The ice storm and the following car crash that took his best friend. He never got to see him, not even at the funeral. The damage had been too great for anyone else to witness. It was like a picture being torn apart and scattered, and though mostly reassembled, there were still pieces missing. He never got to say good-bye. “We’ll be OK.”

His grip tightened on the mug of coffee and hot cocoa, half empty now. Snowflakes kissed his cheeks, offering apologies for his loss. Lanterns floated upwards, and he felt Gummy nudge at him, concern in his fluorescent blue eyes. He reached down, running his hand through the Pokemon’s mane of white fluff. His grip tightened and he dropped to his knees, clutching tightly at his Partner Pokemon, pulling him close and burying his face in Gummy’s fluff. Those rumbles of comfort took him back again, down memory lane.

His father’s Tyranitar (Boomer), weak, exhausted, and not really moving. Gummy crying and nudging the Pokemon, trying to get his own father to move, to eat, to do something that wasn’t just laying there on his bedding on the back porch. Those noises still rang out in his head once in a while, sending a chill through him even today. The comforting rumble as the big dinosaur Pokemon reassured his child. The nurse visiting, speaking comforting words as they checked him over to see what was wrong. Quiet voices between Angelo’s father and the nurse as Angelo himself sat with Boomer’s head in his lap, petting him and taking his own comfort in the rumbles Boomer gave. He was returned to his Pokeball and taken to the Pokemon center, and they got a condolence card in the mail. “He’ll be OK.”

Gummy pushed him back, sprawling over his lap and rumbling again. Angelo put down his mug and wrapped his arms around his Partner, tears falling from his eyes and into Gummy’s fur. It hadn’t been OK. They hadn’t been OK. But he’d lived. He’d moved on, he’d survived. He just never let it out. Never let out all the pain, grief, and unfairness of it all. But he had Gummy. He had his family.

He would be OK.