The HQ Team (PLOT)

Wallace smiled gently as he watched his best friend and his younger cousin converse about battling techniques and possible future lessons. It was refreshing, to say the least, to see some of the old spark back in the ones he cared for. So much had been taken from them by this epidemic, and it was uplifting to see some normalcy once more. His expression warm, he was content to allow the two chatter for a moment while he ate his breakfast. But even as they spoke, Wallace could see fractures in Steven's facade; every now and then he'd flinch or start. What was spooking him so bad? Were the nightmares that terrible last night?

"I, uh, wouldn't go that far."

"I know a good trainer when I see one, Wally." Steven replied as he looked to play with his food, which Wallace frowned at. "Trust me. In fact, I'm surprised you never did make it to the League. A battle with you would've been fantastic, I'm sure." Wallace scoffed at the comment, old anger flaring up. "Maybe one day we can let that become a reality, hm?"

"It'd be about damn time, I say," Wallace declared, popping a grape into his mouth before continuing. "You might be getting a little rusty, Steven," he jeered lightly, poking the man with a bare elbow. "I think our little Wally would give you a run for your money. Especially if I can give you a run for your money. Better stay on your toes or you'll get dethroned." He gave Steven a mischievous wink.


"You two are going to bring this whole place down one of these days." Clair laughed, Karen keeping her small, contained grin above her coffee as she enjoyed the smell. Fond memories came back to her, even the more fuzzy ones. "Aaaah, I'm kind of guilty for missing it. I'll have to join you next time. Last night I was ... busy."

Karen couldn't help but look at the dragon tamer then, eyebrow quirked expectantly. But her eyes slowly widened as she realized not only had she gotten laid -which was obvious- but it was with whom that was the juicy news. Her grin broke out with realization, eager to hear confirmation. Clair only nodded triumphantly, eying her trophy from afar, no doubt. "Yep. I did the thing."

"You slutty cunt!" Karen jeered happily, giving Clair a playful smack on the arm. "I can't believe it-- I'm surprised he had enough energy to handle you. I figured he'd spend it all on crying or something. Ha!" She took another drink, her predatory eyes flickering to Clair's prey. "From the look on your face, I'm guessing it was decent, at least? I'm not going to lie, I'm jealous; I've been eying him for years. I just didn't want to bother coddling him afterward. Guess I had him all wrong?"

"You slutty cunt!" Karen cried joyously, earning several surprised looks from the three guys on the table next to them. Clair didn't even glance at them, grinning widely as she leaned back on her chair. Let them stare; let them wonder. Maybe they'd want some too. "I can't believe it-- I'm surprised he had enough energy to handle you. I figured he'd spend it all on crying or something. Ha!"

"Aww, now that's a little harsh," Clair said, feigning sympathy for the poor sap sitting just a few tables behind them. She inclined her head and pouted her lip. "He just needed a widdle bit of Clair wuv." Heck, who didn't? "I'm sure I got him all fixed up. I'm guessing his thoughts will be occupied with something other than his pathetic little existence for the next few months."

"But, as you know, that was the plan all along," she went to continue, but Karen put her cup down and carried on. "From the look on your face, I'm guessing it was decent, at least? I'm not going to lie, I'm jealous; I've been eying him for years. I just didn't want to bother coddling him afterward. Guess I had him all wrong?"

"Well to be honest I did actually think I'd have to do that myself. I got the fuck out of there before it came to that." Clair licked her lips at one of the men on the adjacent table before leaning forward towards Karen. The man blushed and quickly went back to his breakfast. "I got him right where I want him. You seen the state of him this morning? He's terrified of the sight of me. I reckon this'll take that poor little dear down a peg or two. When Lance gets back, he'll wonder what on earth he was worried about in the first place."

"And in case you're wondering, yes, I would so totally do it again."

Corsola waddled along the bottom of the pool, blissfully ignoring her trainer. "Carla!" The professor did his best to sound stern, even giving a rarely-seen scowl.

But the effect was null, the dual type not even looking up at the human. She knew he was not truly angry.

Elm quickly dropped the look, turning back to stare helplessly at Fiona. She was not even looking at him, opting instead to rub her face with the long-suffering grimace of someone who has dealt entirely too often with this shit. Nearby, a pair of teenagers, having just walked in, watched the scene, snickering without care of the fact that Elm himself noticed. His demeanor deflated, shoulders slumping.

That was not okay with Fiona, though. The massive ferret whipped around her face, glaring at the boys, and giving a sharp, drawn out hiss. The yelped, scrambling to grab the towels they dropped before quickly walking out of sight, one giving the normal type a death glare as he retreated. "Hmph. Kids. We should try to make this fast, Emmanuel."

The man blinked owlishly, staring at his partner before nodding, turning back to Carla. He could hear her now-- "Under the sea! Under the sea! Darling, it's better, down where it's wetter, take it from me!"

Of course she was singing. He sighed, hating to rip her away from her fun when she'd been deprived of it for so long.

"Up on the shore, they work all day! Out in the sun they slave away! While we devotin', full time to floatin', under the sea!"

"... Professor?"

Elm started, jumping enough to jostle his glasses. Quickly repositioning them, he gave a sheepish look to Fiona before steeling himself again. "Er, r-right!" He shed his beloved lab coat, taking any electronics off of his person while the normal type watched patiently.

---

Shivering, the professor's soaked clothes rapidly were getting his bag and lab coat wet, too, despite his best efforts. It had taken an entire eight minutes of chasing Carla around the bottom of the pool, the man lunging and tripping over his feet more than once while she dodged him expertly. Eventually, the rock type had allowed his hands to snatch her up, setting her on the edge of the pool where she sat, giggling, without resistance.

Having removed the coat, shoes, communicator, and his bag, Elm was soon finding it had been in vain, his pants and shirt still dripping water, accumulating in his loafers as he walked through the hallways at Headquarters. Fiona was silent by his side, with the troublemaking sentient coral skipping along behind him, still singing her song. "The seaweed's always greener in somebody else's lake!"

Dripping on the floor, Elm shrank back with every pair of eyes that stared at him as he walked miserably through the halls. Maybe breakfast at least wouldn't be so bad.

And he had gotten a shower that morning, too...

"A- at least th- this is a g- good excuse to have another warm sh- shower later," he said happily to Fiona, forcing a smile despite his chest tightening. Turning his gaze frontwards again, he saw a man he had not seen before, one with his hands on his hips; when those shrewd eyes locked onto him, the professor suddenly felt very, very small. Thank goodness he'd stopped walking a moment ago or he may have just walked right into him.

The tag he wore stated in crude writing 'HARRIS', thankfully for him, being so new to the place; when the man got closer, Elm gave a nervous smile. Maybe this Harris was not actually staring right at him, that glare and dangerous frown on his face just for him?

"The hell is this? Why are you pouring water all over my hallway? Someone just cleaned that!"

Or. Maybe it was.

Elm shrank back, hiding Corsola behind his shoes. For once, his first Pokemon partner did what was best and remained out of sight, though Fiona reared to her hind paws, glaring at the stranger as she stood guard. "M- my Pokemon wanted a quick s- swim this morning. Th- they pulled me in," Elm tried to explain, still wearing the frightened smile.

Harris sneered. "What was that? I couldn't hear you over that damn stutter." Elm was stunned to silence, only able to stare like a Deerling in headlights; yes, he was well used to such taunts, but this was the first time after so many years of isolation that he had heard them. Beside him, Fiona flared up, her fur puffing out. The professor could feel her tail start to lash, the soft fur brushing the back up his pants. "Don't let me see this kind of behavior again, doctor. Or you'll be mopping my halls for the rest of your god forsaken stay here. Understood?" Elm's gaze fell to the floor, nodding obediently. The man scoffed. "No argument? Good. That's the way it should be. Get the hell out of here."

Harris stomped off then, leaving Fiona hissing quietly as her eyes narrowed to slits, following his exit. Elm did not continue walking, though, and behind him, a small voice chimed in:

"That guy's a dick."

[ ooc: Permission to use Harris the NPC. He is not my character. ]

Wally's eyes had moved to Wallace but return to Steven in time to watch the man shake his head--it is light, subtle, but the movement is there. The boy blinks. Why would he shake his head like that? Clearing his thoughts? Trying to focus? Maybe both? He DOES keep glancing over at something. Maybe he's trying not to pay attention to it. Shit, maybe whatever he's looking at reminds him of unpleasant things from his past. Of whatever events happened that put such sadness into his eyes.

Too many people have that look... He'd seen it on plenty of random strangers, that quiet pain. But Steven is the first of two people he's come to care dearly for whose eyes look like that on a regular basis. Someday, it'll be gone.  And he'll feel better again.  Col too. Both of them will lose the sadness, yes. Someday.

It can't come soon enough.

Wally glances up from where he had started unconsciously kneading handfuls of his coat in response to the praise to find Steven catching his eye. "I know a good trainer when I see one, Wally." Wally can feel the pink in his cheeks deepening to a red as the Champion continues. Beside him, Wallace frowns over Steven playing with his food. Good thing Wal didn't see that spectacle of Wally's earlier with his eggs. "Trust me. In fact, I'm surprised you never did make it to the League. A battle with you would've been fantastic, I'm sure."  

The frown becomes a scowl. Wally winces. Wallace is looking for an excuse to tell Steven the truth about their family beyond what he had to divulge, but the water specialist is also one of the most loyal human beings alive. He won't tell Steven that his family hindered him in collecting badges; he promised Wally he wouldn't.

But watching Wallace's anger surface whenever he thinks on it never gets any easier to deal with.

"Maybe one day we can let that become a reality, hm?"  

"It'd be about damn time, I say." Wally's eyes snap over to his cousin's. "You might be getting a little rusty, Steven. I think our little Wally would give you a run for your money." An involuntary squeak slips out at Wallace believing that he, tiny, skinny, talentless Wally Simmons, could manage to give Steven Stone a problem. "Especially if I can give you a run for your money. Better stay on your toes or you'll get dethroned." The fuck was that supposed to mean? "Especially if I can give you a run for your money?" As if Wallace is some chump trainer!  

"H-hey, let's be realistic here!  I'm not giving anyone of your caliber a hard time!  Either of you!" God his face is so hot; he must be so red. "I m-mean, thanks for the compliment, but y'know, not that great yet." Probably never, to be honest with himself; the fuck was he thinking when he promised Steven he wouldn't be the last Champion the way he did...

"It'd be about damn time, I say. You might be getting a little rusty, Steven. I think our little Wally would give you a run for your money." Steven jumped a little as Wallace nudged him, surprised by the sudden contact. He was so on edge; it almost as felt as if the very air he was breathing contained thousands of microscopic razors, shredding his insides as he inhaled. "Especially if I can give you a run for your money. Better stay on your toes or you'll get dethroned."

Now that was a thought that did not help to ease his anxieties in the slightest. Steven knew that nothing lasted forever; all Champions eventually fell. In fact, he was fairly sure that there hadn't been a single one in history that had held their title until their deaths. Back before all of this, Steven had wanted to be the first unbeatable Champion; the only one in history to forever keep his title until the end. It was a ridiculous goal - he saw that now, but his younger, happier self had once believed that anything was possible. It wasn't until he met Brendan when he started to believe that perhaps it wouldn't become a reality after all.

Things were different now; being a Champion did not mean what it used to, but somehow the thought of losing his title still made Steven feel uneasy. Perhaps it was just due to a few fragments of his pride that he'd managed to hold onto, but even Wallace's joke about him getting dethroned made him feel uncomfortable.

He tried not to let it show though, pulling a chunk off of his muffin and popping it into his mouth. The title of Champion was all he had left... he didn't want to lose it.

But at the same time, he didn't want to be Hoenn's last Champion either; the one that reigned while his region and all the others fell to pieces. He couldn't help but wonder whether Cynthia or Lance ever had these thoughts.

"H-hey, let's be realistic here! I'm not giving anyone of your caliber a hard time!  Either of you!" Wally's face was the color of a tomato; it would've been funny if Steven was in a better mood. This morning just seemed to be getting worse and worse; even the company of his friends wasn't helping. "I m-mean, thanks for the compliment, but y'know, not that great yet."

His thoughts were practically on overdrive, the voices in his head overriding each other: Champions, Clair, food, Wally, Clair, Champions, I feel sick, Clair, Karen, Clair--

"You slutty cunt!"

That did it. Karen's voice carried over all the others, straight to his ears and into his mind, echoing back and forth between the walls of his skull. Steven rose to his feet a little too quickly, knocking the table and splashing orange juice across his tray. They were talking about last night, about him, about what happened. His mind only told him one thing: get away, and get away quickly.

"Excuse me a minute--just need--bathroom," he managed to Wallace and Wally before hurrying off. His legs shook underneath him as he staggered out of the cafeteria doors, taking an immediate right turn into the men's lavatory.

He couldn't do it. Not today.

Wallace's frame stiffened a little in apprehension as he realized his gentle jabs were met with Steven's almost green complexion and tense silence from the man. Oh dear. Last night's horrid events must have been something truly fierce-- he could see his best friend crumble right before his eyes, even as little Wally nobly tried to diffuse the situation. "H-hey, let's be realistic here! I'm not giving anyone of your caliber a hard time! Either of you!" Wallace's focus stayed on Steven, even through his peripherals. "I m-mean, thanks for the compliment, but y'know, not that great yet." There was a moment of tense silence that hung in the conversation as Steven let Wally's reply die. "...Steven?"

"You slutty cunt!"

The joyous, though crass, remark cut through the cafeteria's collective roar, clear as day and Wallace saw something snap in poor Steven. He stood abruptly, spilling the remnants of his juice all over his tray and onto the table, Wallace looked up in shock and some fear, knowing that this was bad and he kicked himself for not seeing just how bad and only exacerbating the entire situation. "Excuse me a minute--just need--bathroom," Steven rushed as he nearly ran out of the cafeteria, taking a right. Wallace was on his feet almost immediately, reaching over and gently clasping Wally's thin shoulder.

"Honey, can you clean this up? Thank you," he asked without waiting for a response, hurriedly turning to follow Steven out of the cafeteria. One glance in the direction of that horrid comment only told Wallace that the voice had belonged to Karen, who was staring his way, along with that filthy piranha, Clair. His anger flared a moment, casting an angry look at the couple of whores as he jogged out of the cafeteria doors in Steven's wake. He'd have to deal with that later. Bitches.

Steven had taken a right. With the thought in his mind, Wallace turned that way, keeping his speed and momentum up, even with the somewhat populated hallways. There were bathrooms nearby-- maybe that's where Steven was headed. He followed his instinct and checked there first, thankfully not greeted with the sounds of retching. But the silence did make Wallace worry; had his instincts been wrong? A few of the stalls were indeed closed, but one small glance downward proved him right. He spotted Steven's unkempt shoes and sighed.

Asking the distraught Champion if he was all right was plain stupid, as well as what set him off. If Clair was involved in this, as well as Karen, there was really only one clear answer as to what happened. Clair got mouthy and far too confident with her cousin out of the Plateau and often took it out on others. As Steven seemed to be Lance's favorite target, it didn't surprise Wallace that she'd try her own hand at playing with her cousin's favorite toy while he was away. And Karen had always been here with Lance... it wasn't surprising to think she'd be involved too. But again, bringing any of this up now would likely only making things worse.

"...Steven, honey?" he began softly, gently knocking on the stall door. "Let's get some of that anti-nausea stuff from the nurse. I know it tastes like ass, but it'll help. And then I'll help you to your room, all right? You need to lie down and take it easy." His tone was still gentle-- he knew any sort of force would just be cruel at this point.

----------------------------------------------------
"Well to be honest I did actually think I'd have to do that myself. I got the fuck out of there before it came to that," Clair mused as she promptly freaked an adjacent guy apparently listening in to their conversation, earning a small snicker from Karen. "I got him right where I want him. You seen the state of him this morning? He's terrified of the sight of me. I reckon this'll take that poor little dear down a peg or two. When Lance gets back, he'll wonder what on earth he was worried about in the first place." Karen laughed as Clair basked in her own victory, adding, "And in case you're wondering, yes, I would so totally do it again."

"You're such a dutiful, loyal cousin," Karen smirked as she took another drink of coffee. "Ah, good job. Of course you've ruined him now-- there's no way a girl can get her hands on that elusive little rock now. He's just so terrified. You're probably going to need to strap him down for another round. Or for fun. Either way." Karen placed down her mug, nothing but calm admiration at her friend's play on her face as she looked to Steven's now vacant seat. Huh. His little parrot had fucked off, too, it seemed. "Tch. Ah, well-- guess I'll just have to set my sights on the bigger and better, yeah?" Her gaze went back to Clair, mischief in her eyes. "I've always fancied myself a dragon-slayer, after all, instead of one of those boring archaeologists..." Her grin widened. "Now that you've gone and taken care of Steven and all... he'll have time for more... recreational activities."

"You're such a dutiful, loyal cousin," said Karen, taking another sip from her cup. Clair agreed. Everyone else in this building could go fuck themselves for all she cared, but Lance? He was worth every second of her time. So long as she was doing his bidding, doing whatever eased his own anxieties, she was doing something right. "Ah, good job. Of course you've ruined him now-- there's no way a girl can get her hands on that elusive little rock now. He's just so terrified. You're probably going to need to strap him down for another round. Or for fun. Either way."

"You just forge me those chains, honey," Clair smirked, standing up and wandering back over to the coffee machine to pour herself another drink. She reckoned she was going to be here for longer than she thought; more caffeine was compulsory.

"Tch. Ah, well-- guess I'll just have to set my sights on the bigger and better, yeah?" Karen said from behind her, forcing Clair to conceal a smirk. Damn right she'd have to look elsewhere. That pampered little pretty boy was hers.

Clair met Karen's eyes as she sat back at the table again just in time to notice Steven's empty seat. She blinked, not really surprised that he'd gone already. Ran off to barf, by the looks of him. Wallace stood up to give chase, shooting a glare at the two women as he went. Clair smiled sweetly and waved.

Karen was still talking, but Clair's mind was busy whirling to listen to her properly. Her head played out lots of different scenarios, conversations, interactions that could've been going on between Steven and his pet fruitcake right at that moment. Was he spilling everything or continuing to clam up? Was he angry, sad, scared, humiliated? Clair hoped all four, but she knew that going for a long time without any form of ... intimate contact and then suddenly having it thrown on you again took a toll on the body and mind. Only time would tell whether the experience would end up positive or negative. Either would work to Clair's advantage.

Karen was quiet now, and Clair realised that she had no clue what she had just said. She looked back to her friend and grinned, hoping that would suffice. "Well ... I'm satisfied." And that was all that mattered. "I'm gonna spend the morning at the Stadium, I think. I haven't got much on today, and my babies are itching for a battle." She leaned back on her chair, gently blowing her steaming coffee. "What about you, dear?"

The scrawny noodle of a man shivered, reaching out hesitantly to Fiona. "C- come on. There's no p- point staying here."

She turned her shrewd glare from where the other had vanished to look at her trainer, melting her gaze with sympathy. "You're right-- we need to get you cleaned up with another shower before work starts."

Carla skipped along behind Elm's feet as his face paled.
"O- oh no! We don't have time for th- that!" The ferret's eyes widened before sharpening accusingly. "Do- don't you want breakfast?"
Giving in, the normal type returned to all fours with a sigh. "Fine. But you better get one hell of a good meal, Professor."

"I want coffee!" Carla chimed in happily. Elm snapped his head up to meet Furret's alarmed eyes, knowing they were thinking the same thing: Bad, bad idea.

---

Elm was approaching the cafeteria, his expression perked up. The professor's stomach grumbled, loud and clear. Fiona remained loyally by his side, but as he approached the door, suddenly someone rushed through. Elm started, stumbling backwards immediately with a high pitched, "P- pardon me!" The man had on a nice suit and silver hair atop his head, but he was gone too fast for Elm to properly recognize him.

But upon walking through the double doors, another man followed right behind, clearly after the first stranger. Elm watched them, only blinking once before heading in to grab a tray. "Someone is having a worse day than you," the sentient coral murmured softly, earning a sharp glare of disapproval from the Furret.

There were not a lot of people in the large room, but that meant plenty of empty tables. "Get food- I'll grab us a spot." Elm nodded his gratefulness before approaching the line.

Scooping up some eggs and a few slices toast, the Professor was relieved to see that at least he had not been left with no food. Last minute he snatched up an orange and a pear for Furret before turning to approach where she had chosen a table for them. Upon sitting, he handed one slice of toast to Carla, and rolled the two fruits to Fiona. She purred happily, nibbling on the skin of the pear.

Scrambling for something to say in the wake of his own embarrassment over praise he did not deserve, hoping his babbled words would distract Steven from whatever had bothered him so, Wally watched in horror as Steven's armor kept cracking.  His eyes were empty, blank; his face a few shades paler than before, muscles tight and tense as if he were about to be sick.

Of course, such a thing did not escape Wallace's notice any more than it did his.  "Steven?"  

The boy opened his own mouth, not sure what words would fall out but needing to say something.  Karen's voice carried from several tables over, ending that attempt before it could even begin.  "You slutty cunt!"

That did it.  Silver eyes widened as Steven stood up, the movement fast in a way only inspired by panic.  The abruptness of it jarred the table, spilling Steven's juice onto both his tray and the table; Wally instinctively moved back away from the flow, lest it spill over the table and onto his clothes.  "Excuse me a minute--just need--bathroom."  No sooner had his sentence rushed out of his mouth did Steven step around the table and flee the room as quickly as a brisk walk with shaky legs would let him.

Wallace's hand touches his shoulder.  "Honey, can you clean this up?"  The boy goes to reply, but his cousin does not wait, practically tossing a "Thank you" over his shoulder as he follows Steven out.

A twinge of something akin to annoyance pokes at his heart, pricking its way up from beneath the shock and terror seeping into his soul.  He quashes it, shame coloring his cheeks as he sets about cleaning up the mess, retrieving a paper towel and wiping up the juice.  Of course Wallace is more worried about Steven-- Steven is the one who visibly broke down in front of them.  He doesn't know the fatigue that drags at Wally's limbs, the despair that saps his energy.  That's the whole point of keeping it hidden, stupid.  Petty and selfish.  What else is new?

If Steven is in this bad a state than his own next collapse will have to be put at bay for as long as he can hold it off.  Self-loathing, however true the words may be, will not help him in that battle.  Focus on something else.  Focus on something else.  Find something damn it.  Steven; start with Steven's collapse.  If he's going to try to make the pain stop later, he needs to know what caused it.  And he reacted right... right after Karen...  ... Why those words?   Was it even those words, or just Karen's voice?  Probably Karen's voice...  Gods knew Clair and Karen did not have a great relationship with the Hoenn Champion.  They were far too close to Lance to allow that.

Karen or Clair must have approached him last night and made him feel like shit.  It honestly isn't a hard thing to do if you know what his sore spots are, and both have been around him long enough to at least hazard a guess at them.  And if on top of that he had nightmares...  Oh gods.  No.  No wonder he's a wreck.  If that scenario is reality, no wonder.

And you felt jealous over Wal placing Steven's feelings above your own.  Oh no please shut up.  You wanted him to at least wait for you to reply instead of running off and just ASSUMING you'll be fine with mopping up someone else's mess... like you do every day, many times ALL day... dealing with people's abuse because who has respect for janitors; who has any respect for a scrawny janitor boy?

He glances up to see the vivid flash of blue that is Clair's hair and growls, tears pricking at his eyes.  Yeah.  Who does indeed?

If she pulls the "purposely making more work for Wally to do" stunt--which is becoming entirely too frequent--then he can throw the schedule he planned for himself not even a few minutes ago out entirely.

And he can't even tell anyone, or she'll gloat that he's weak, waving that truth in his face in public.  Fantastic.

Wally throws the paper towels out and returns to take care of the three trays, assuming neither of his caretakers will want what's left of their breakfast after this.  I really hope Col is having a better morning than this...  Steven is doing so bad, so so bad; if Colress is in a similar state, he can't be in two places at once.  The thought of having to choose between which one to care for makes his stomach twist.

This is still assuming Clair doesn't royally fuck over his plans.  His eyes glance at his watch and he seizes up.  Shit.  That took way too long.  Panic grabs hold of his belly and he rushes back to his chair, grabbing his bag and flinging it over his shoulder before shoving his chair in and taking off at a run.  They're probably not even in the nearest bathroom right now but maybe if he runs as fast as he can he can still catch them--

"Oof!"  His body collides with someone else's, the impact nearly knocking them both down and sending Wally stumbling back, staggering as he struggles to remain upright.  There's a cry as the other person grapples with their cup of coffee, trying not to spill it on the floor or either of them.  Wally maintains his balance by flinging his arms out and flailing, catching himself on the edge of a table just as he starts to bend too far in one direction.  He raises his head, eyes wild with panic as he manuvers himself into standing properly.  Anxiety floods his head and shame turns his face bright red; neither his tongue nor his head decide to cooperate with him.  "Oh my god I'm so sorry I-- my friend he-- Steven got sick and-- had to clean up the mess-- I'm so so sorry it's my fault wasn't watching where I was going-- oh please don't be mad I really gotta go!"

(I had permission for Wally to literally run into Elm.  I'll fix anything if it's needed, of course.  ^^)

Steven slammed the cubicle door, locked it and staggered back against the wall, clutching his head in his hands. He was being completely irrational; overreacting as was often the case these days. He knew that, but his head kept insisting on pushing any trace of rationality away, and injecting poisonous thoughts and clouding his ability to think properly. The venom burned its way though him then, rendering him the shaking, pitiful mess that he was, and slowly killing the proud, strong man he used to be.

He was a colossal idiot. To allow a vile woman like Clair to get so deeply under his skin was pathetic. People like her were leeches, feeding their own misery with that of others; watching with a smile as their victim fell apart in front of them. But Clair had done more than just prey on his mind; she'd taken the next step forward and split his soul into two. He had no recollection of who he was, where or, indeed, why. All he knew was that he'd signed up for a spot in Hell as he had drowned into her eyes; let her use his misery for her own sick gain. And he'd just let her do it.

The door to the lavatory opened and someone entered, but Steven ignored them, trying far too hard not to suffocate in shame to pay any attention to them. He wouldn't be surprised if Wallace or Wally followed him. Hopefully they just thought he'd needed to be sick.

Steven knew that he wasn't the only person in HQ with problems, of course he wasn't, and to assume that he alone was suffering would be ignorant to the extreme. Almost everybody you talked to had a sob story: losing family, friends, Pokemon, homes...But the majority of those people just soldiered on and got on with their new lives. They pushed the pain right to the back of their minds and carried on like life wanted them to. But he...he just couldn't do it. He'd tried countless times to just 'get over it', as some people would say, and to be worthy as one of HQ's leaders. He'd tried to accept what had happened - Armaldo's death, humanity's near extinction, the fact that he'd never managed to contact his family - and tell himself that there were others here going through the same thing. He'd tried to smile, to laugh and to relax with his friends, but the memories were something that could never be silenced, no matter how much positivity you tried to drown them with.

But Clair had kept her word when she'd told him that she'd help him to forget, even if it was for a short time. If there was anything to thank her for, it was that.

"...Steven, honey?" The gentle voice and the soft knock on the door was enough to startle Steven and he jumped, the wall shuddering behind him. It was Wallace, as he'd expected. How could he expect to get away with a near mental breakdown without that man arriving to interrupt it? He was beyond grateful for his friend's concern, but now he had to unlock that door, go out to face him and make up some excuse as to why he'd suddenly lost it and ran out of the cafeteria. Surely others had seen it too, and were bound to ask if they saw him later. He wished he could dig himself a pit and hide it in long enough for them all to forget...Forget what a pathetic, weak man the epidemic had turned him into. He was no Champion. He was a joke. Lance had been right all along.

"Let's get some of that anti-nausea stuff from the nurse. I know it tastes like ass, but it'll help. And then I'll help you to your room, all right? You need to lie down and take it easy." Arceus bless this man. If it weren't for Wallace, Steven was sure he wouldn't be here now. Quite literally. His mind wandered to the safe in his room that contained his gun, knife and other weapons. He'd lost count how many times he'd tried a few combinations to see whether it would open. Completely innocent...just out of curiosity, of course. He'd have to think of a damn good excuse for Wallace to actually give him the code, and his head was never focused enough for that.

He couldn't stay in the bathroom forever; he knew that Wallace wouldn't move a muscle until he came out. Then other people would wander in; start asking questions...Steven's chest tightened, his vision of the grey wall opposite him beginning to blur.

Calm down. Deep breaths...in and out, nice and slowly. You must calm down. He didn't fancy passing out in a lavatory of all places and forcing poor Wallace to kick the door down to get to him. He had some of his pride left at least, even if it did just work to stop him from being more of an idiot than he already was.

"Just...just give me a second," he finally said to Wallace, hoping that he'd controlled his voice effectively. At least he hadn't stuttered this time; that was becoming a problem. "I'm all right...It's starting to pass."

More pain stabbed into him, the guilt of having to lie to his best friend gnawing at his insides. But this could never get out; never be allowed to spread around HQ. Rumors like this blazed through the fortress's corridors like wildfire. But Clair could do and say whatever she wanted; he had no control over what she told others. And by the sound of it back in the cafeteria, Karen was sucking up the juicy gossip over a cup of coffee.

The two witches of HQ knew; Steven reckoned half the building would know by the afternoon.

Wallace wasn't aware how long he stood outside the stall, waiting for some sign from Steven. Not that he truly cared-- but every moment that the gross metal door separated them, the less Wallace felt like he was actually helping.

Finally, a voice. "Just...just give me a second," Steven called from behind the stall door, his words hesitant, but not stuttering. That was something, for what it was worth. The water Leader let out a small sigh of relief; maybe the worst was already past. "I'm all right...It's starting to pass."

Another relieved sigh escaped him and he gently placed a hand on the wretched door, his tone still soothing. "There's no rush, Steven. That gross-ass medicine will be waiting for you no matter what." His smile grew bigger; even if Steven couldn't see it, it could be heard in Wallace's voice. "Take your time."

-----------------

Yeah, she was gone. Karen could tell that she'd lost Clair along the way, likely disappeared into her weirdo la-la land stored away in that big coif of blue spiky hair. Especially since Clair was waving oh-so-sweetly to some poor bastard. Karen sighed and rolled her eyes as she waited for Clair to return to Earth. "Well ... I'm satisfied." Karen quirked a brow; apparently she hadn't heard anything. "I'm gonna spend the morning at the Stadium, I think. I haven't got much on today, and my babies are itching for a battle." She leaned back on her chair, gently blowing her steaming coffee while the Dark master couldn't help a small chuckle. "What about you, dear?"

"I guess I'm gonna keep plotting away to fuck your cousin blind, since you're so okay with it," she teased, leaning back and taking the last of her coffee. "I never knew you had given me your blessing-- I would have acted sooner."

"I guess I'm gonna keep plotting away to fuck your cousin blind, since you're so okay with it." Clair snorted into her coffee, flailing forward on her chair and trying not to choke out of laughter.
"Could've done without that image!" she cried, placing her cup down and wiping her chin. "Jeez, Karen."
"I never knew you had given me your blessing-- I would have acted sooner."
"I really couldn't care less, so long as you refrain from spilling all the details." She gazed into her empty cup longingly, the pull for caffeine already returning. Arceus bless whoever discovered how to turn coffee beans into a strong, steaming cup of heaven. "Hey, you might loosen him up a bit. He could do with someone to help him get his head out of his ass."

Clair looked Karen over and stood up. "I'll get you some toast. Even with a hangover you should be able to keep that down." Without waiting for an answer she strode over to the counter and stood next to Brawly, brushing her arm against his as he finished filling his plate. "Hey there, handsome," she purred. Brawly gave her a bizarre look and walked away with his food.

Her mind filed through her list of potential future targets as she piled some toast onto a plate for Karen. She glanced over to the cafeteria doors, where Wally was now gathering his things together, clearly intending give chase to his cousin and the Hoenn Champion, who had still not returned. Whatever could be keeping them?

She considered going after Wally for a moment. It would get boring in here pretty quickly without those three around, and if Karen was going to keep talking about doing naughty things to her cousin, Clair would've rather not heard it. She wanted to keep her breakfast in her stomach where it belonged.

Still looking at the door, she wandered back over to Karen and placed the toast down in front of her. "What a drama. I haven't even done anything," she mused, her grin growing wider as she watched Wally run headlong into Professor Elm. Stupid, scrawny little shit.

(I will need to skip, please.)

"There's no rush, Steven. That gross-ass medicine will be waiting for you no matter what." Steven could practically feel the warmth from Wallace's smile from behind the door. His clenched his fists and scowled at the floor, annoyed at how selfish he had been. "Take your time."

He was so windswept by his own whirlwind of a mind that he often forgot his friends even existed. Wallace, Wally, Cynthia, his Elite Four...they always managed to ask how he was but that question was rarely returned to them. Not only was he a coward and an idiot, but he was selfish as well. Steven grimaced at the wall as he added it to the long list of things wrong with him.

But standing in there finding things to scold himself about wasn't helping, even though he knew that Wallace would wait out there all day if he had to. With a deep breath, he unlocked the door and stepped outside.

He met Wallace's eye and wasn't sure whether to flee back into the cubicle or blubber all over his shoulder. Thankfully he managed to resist both, and he merely held his hand to the back of his head and tried to put on a sheepish smile.

"Sorry about that," he said, sneaking a glance around the rest of the bathroom. Hopefully no one else had come in and suspected what was happening. "I felt terribly nauseous all of a sudden...I'm all right now."

Finally, a result. Wallace heard shifting within the stall and for a moment, he was worried Steven had succumbed to the nausea. But he worried for naught, as the Hoenn champion emerged mere seconds later. He was still looking green, haunted and terrible, but a hand reached to the back of his head and a sheepish, embarrassed smile managed to find its way into Steven's expression. Wallace nearly teared at the rare sighting, an elusive glimpse at the man Steven had once been-- his goofy, warm-hearted, loving best friend. Thankfully, Wallace was far more composed than that and met Steven's own embarrassment with calm relief.

"Sorry about that," he began, making a not-to-subtle glace at the rest of the bathroom to catch a glimpse of anyone else that might have seen his weakness. Wallace merely gave a small shake of the head to confirm that no, they were alone. "I felt terribly nauseous all of a sudden...I'm all right now."

"It's fine, honey, but don't you think that you're getting out of taking that stank-ass medicine; you still need some, just in case it comes roaring back," Wallace replied, his hands once more going to fix the tiny imperfections of Steven's suit and hair. It was a comforting habit, something he'd done ever since they'd become truly close friends. Finally, his hands settled on Steven's shoulders as he looked up at his friend's face, his relief from earlier still there, as well as hope. "Why don't we get out of the bathroom, hmm? If we stay in here much longer, I might have to start cleaning and I do not want to clean this bathroom. Don't make me clean it, Steven." Mock worry came onto his face, exaggerated to the point of ludicrous proportions.


-------------


Theeeeeeeere was the reaction she was looking for. Karen merely smiled over her cup as Clair sputtered and squeaked in reply, completely taken off guard by, Karen was sure, of the slew of mental images that bombarded her mind. Karen was certainly preoccupied with them, that was definite. "I really couldn't care less, so long as you refrain from spilling all the details." Karen's brow quirked a little, placing her own empty cup to the side. "But that's half the fun..." Karen complained. "Hey, you might loosen him up a bit. He could do with someone to help him get his head out of his ass."

Karen enjoyed the thought of his ass in general as Clair stood, earning her attention once more. "I'll get you some toast. Even with a hangover you should be able to keep that down." The Dark master blew a kiss to Clair, forever grateful. "You're a saint, darling," she called after her friend, who was currently busy flirting relentlessly with Brawly who scurried. Ha. Good girl.

It took a moment for Clair to return, faithfully with a piece of toast in hand. Karen murmured a bid of thanks as she took it, spotting Clair's distraction with the fluffy green-haired shit. The kid was harmless enough, but Clair had enjoyed picking on him every now and then. The kid interested her, even with Clair's constant jeers; Lance, of all people, had allowed him to live in the trainer's dorms with the rest of the higher ranked trainers. There was definitely a reason, and Karen wanted to know, especially with the rumor that the kid had no badges under his belt. Her boss wasn't known for empathy, so what other reason would the kid be here if he wasn't a competent trainer? He was a strange paradox. "What a drama. I haven't even done anything," Clair commented, to which Karen shrugged.

"Everyone's either fucking stupid or so wound up their feet are coming out of their asses," Karen replied as she gingerly snacked on the toast. "He'll get over himself eventually."

"Everyone's either fucking stupid or so wound up their feet are coming out of their asses." That was very true. Wherever you went in this absolute bore of a building there was someone blubbering out their latest sob story, or up to their chins in self-pity, or losing their damn minds. It really was very rude; did they not realise that not many people actually gave a damn about them? Everybody in HQ had been fucked over in one way or another; it was the apocalypse, for crying out loud.

But Clair had found her own ways to adapting to this new lifestyle she'd been thrown into. True, life sucked, but it was still there, rife with opportunity and chances to make every moment of it memorable. She didn't have time to mope around all day; she had a very busy schedule of her own: asses to kick in the stadium, food to scoff in the food hall and pants to get into in the bedroom.

"He'll get over himself eventually," Karen added as she nibbled on her toast. Clair's mind was swimming with potential candidates for her next adventure under the covers as she turned to her friend with a grin.

"He'd better. If he thinks I'm done with him, he's in for a shock." She sat on the table and crossed her legs, scanning the room. "In the meantime, I'll have to find myself a new bed-buddy." She jabbed a thumb over at Brawly, sitting on the adjacent table beside Misty. "He's got a cute little ass, don't you think?"

While his loyal Pokemon enjoyed their breakfast, it was only then that Elm reaslied he had made a mistake. "O- oh! Coffee!" Furret flicked her ear, otherwise not turning away from the fruit she chewed insistently on. "I- I'll be right back." Standing quickly from his seat, the chair screeched backwards, a sound that caused the normal type to cringe slightly, turning her scowl on the man.

"Try not to spill anything, Emanuel," she huffed, only mildly annoyed as her beady eyes watched her human closely.
"Ahh, I won't!" he assured her, giving a winded smile before turning to return back to where the coffee machine was.

It had been so long that he went in the wilderness without a steady supply of the liquified black beans, Headquarters was a blessing if only that they allowed him the sweet brew back. Dropping a few cubes of sugar in before snatching up the tiny creamer packs in his fingers, Elm felt strangely pleased by the mere single cup of caffeine. He opened one of the tiny plastic containers, emptying the sweet cream inside before picking up a knife to stir the warm cup. Deciding that the other creamer packs could be added at his leisure while sitting, the former professor made his way back to the table.

As he did, though, there was a sharp cry from his Furret. "Emanuel!"
"Whaa--?!"
"Oof!"
The collision was swift and strong, shaking the scrawny man to his boots. With a yelp, he remembered the coffee almost too late, snatching the cup up with his other hand, to hold it from both sides in front of him. Arms sticking straight ahead, shoulders hunched as if it would harm him, his pulse raced momentarily before slowing as it became clear that the hot liquid would not spill.
"Nice save, prof'!" Corsola chirped in, taking only a moment to speak before continuing the nibbling on her toast.

Elm's face flushes with embarrassment while a wide, uncomfortable smile breaks across his face as he looks to who had bumped into him. "A- are you okay, lad?" he quickly asks, realising that it was but a child. His own face was bright red, dangerously contradicting to the thick, teal-green hair atop his head in a tall mess.
Bright eyes were full of panic as he stammered viciously, running over his words as he exclaimed, "Oh my god I'm so sorry I-- my friend he-- Steven got sick and-- had to clean up the mess-- I'm so so sorry it's my fault wasn't watching where I was going-- oh please don't be mad I really gotta go!"

Elm's own brown eyes widened. His friend was ill? "O- oh! You need to look after your S- Steven, then!" Furret was already approaching the boys, her eyes flickering over the new kid. He screamed anxiety, poor thing. "Would you like me to go wi- with you?" Elm asked without thinking, the normal type's eyes widening in shock as they snapped up to her trainer.

"Nice save, prof'!"  He could have died right then, he really could have.  He has half a second to glance over at the voice and see a Corsola before shame and fear force him to look away and a voice then directs his attention elsewhere.

"A- are you okay, lad?"

No.  Not in the slightest.  The word vomit that follows proves it and his face's deep flush doesn't help matters.

"O-oh! You need to look after your S-Steven, then!"  Yes, yes he does, but he can't very well rush out of here after accidentally disrupting someone like this without making sure they know he's sorry for it.  Despite the lack of cruel words or an angry, raised voice, the boy continues to shiver slightly, fingers tugging at one another and his weight shifting from foot to foot, eyes darting from Elm to the door and back to Elm.

"Y-yes, I d-do; really badly.  I'm sorry for running into you but I really gotta go; I'm sorry-" Cutting himself off, he moves to step around the man.  Elm turns with him to continue speaking with him, Wally's heart sinking as he does.  Oh no, he still wants to talk?

"Would you like me to go wi-with you?"  The color drains from his face; he can feel it.  Oh gods, no.  As kind as the offer is there's no way he can accept.  Steven would die if a stranger saw him this vulnerable.

"N-no sir; that won't be n-necessary!" Wally squeaks, shaking his head violently with his hands up, palms out, as if pleading for the professor not to take offense.  "I-I got this myself, th-thank you!  S-sorry again for the trouble!"  And he turns to run, praying the man will not follow.

"It's fine, honey, but don't you think that you're getting out of taking that stank-ass medicine; you still need some, just in case it comes roaring back." Steven stood still as Wallace once again fussed over his clothes, wincing as he yanked out a stray hair. It must've looked ridiculous, like a mother fixing up a child's uniform on their first day of school, but the Champion truly didn't care. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the embarrassment and the 'I can do it myself' attitude he usually had, but they were drowned by the warm pool of relief that was slowly flooding his mind as his anxieties began to calm. Just having Wallace in the same room seemed to help with that.

Wallace's hands firmly grasped Steven's shoulders and he tensed, not sure what to expect. "Why don't we get out of the bathroom, hmm?" he said gently. "If we stay in here much longer, I might have to start cleaning and I do not want to clean this bathroom. Don't make me clean it, Steven." A very convincing expression of terror formed on his face, and Steven couldn't help but laugh. For someone to make him smile even after an anxiety episode as bad as that one, Wallace had to be a damn master.

I'll get better. The thought materialized out of nowhere, but was as firm as resolute as it could be. He looked Wallace straight in the eye. I'll get better for you, I promise.

"We should..." He paused for a moment to gather himself after his little epiphany. "We should get back to Wally. I'm sure that I worried him, running off like that." He took the lead and pushed open the lavatory doors, holding it open for Wallace as they stepped back into the corridor.

His legs managed to keep him upright as he walked back the way he came. He rounded the corner to the cafeteria only to spot Wally trying to dodge his way around Professor Elm. "Would you like me to go wi-with you?"

"N-no sir; that won't be n-necessary!" Wally squeaked, vigorously shaking his head. Steven frowned; had he been the reason he was so worked up? "I-I got this myself, th-thank you!  S-sorry again for the trouble!" He turned and barreled his way down the corridor towards them.

Steven quickly held up both of his hands so Wally wouldn't collide with him. "Slow down, Wally. You're going to run into someone." He offered Elm a small nod. "Sorry, Professor. Please continue."

Steven broke out into a laugh, which warmed Wallace's heart by a million degrees. Oh, it was so good to see him laugh, especially after such a bad episode... Wallace couldn't help but feel a small bubble of pride in both himself and Steven for overcoming the obstacle successfully. It didn't mean that it wouldn't come up again, but for now, this was a victory. "We should..." For a moment, Steven was quiet, almost contemplative. Wallace blinked, searching his face for an idea of what was happening in that big head of his, but he remained secretive. "We should get back to Wally. I'm sure that I worried him, running off like that."

Wallace merely nodded, eager to get out of the bathroom; while the cleaning comment had been a way to turn the conversation away from Steven's faults, he hadn't lied at all. He was starting to need to clean that horrible grout. He gave a small curtsey to Steven as the other held the door open for him, and followed his Champion back to the cafeteria. As they rounded the corner, however, there seemed to be a bit of a stuttering blockade.

"Y-yes, I d-do; really badly.  I'm sorry for running into you but I really gotta go; I'm sorry-" Wally looked like he was trying to get around Professor Elm, and as much as he loved Wally, they both looked and sounded sweetly ridiculous.

"Would you like me to go wi-with you?"

"N-no sir; that won't be n-necessary!" Wally squeaks, shaking his head violently with his hands up, palms out, as if pleading for the professor not to take offense. Poor thing got so flustered so easily-- the both of them, from what little he knew of Professor Elm. "I-I got this myself, th-thank you!  S-sorry again for the trouble!"

"Slow down, Wally. You're going to run into someone." He offered Elm a small nod as Wallace placed a calming hand on Wally's shoulder before offering his own gracious nod to the shaking Professor. "Sorry, Professor. Please continue."

"Everything's all right, hon," he soothed, running a hand over Wally's infuriating fluff. "Thank you for cleaning the table-- I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly. Did you and Steven still want to have that lesson? The training arena might still be vacant."

-------------

"He'd better. If he thinks I'm done with him, he's in for a shock." Karen gave a dark chuckle at the comment; poor bastard didn't know how far Clair's talons had sunk into him. Ah, well. He'd find out soon enough, after all. "In the meantime, I'll have to find myself a new bed-buddy." She motioned over to Brawly, the strange surfer dude from Hoenn, who was apparently already making eyes at Misty. Karen narrowed her gaze at the water Leader-- she'd never liked that spunky little bitch. Stank of chlorine and shame. "He's got a cute little ass, don't you think?"

Karen shrugged as she leaned back a little. "As much as I like any dumb surfer, I've come to find men with bubble butts turn out to be gay. Just saying. And it's like he's sitting on a couple of pillows over there-- you might be wasting your time." A shadow moved in her peripheral, catching her attention. She soon spotted Slick, her umbreon, trotting easily through the crowd of legs, something in his mouth. It looked to be a letter, to which Karen gave a light groan as she took it from Slick's mouth.

"Fucking Agatha. Where does she even find stationaries anymore?" She tossed the letter onto the table, its dark color immediately clashing with the light brown surface. She patted Slick's head, who jumped into the seat next to Karen, curling into a small ball to avoid being seen. "I swear to God, that old hag's lost her damn mind."

"As much as I like any dumb surfer, I've come to find men with bubble butts turn out to be gay," Karen said. Clair inclined her head at Brawly, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "Just saying. And it's like he's sitting on a couple of pillows over there-- you might be wasting your time."

"Eh," Clair shrugged, tossing back her hair. "Worth a try." She leaned back on the table when a black shape caught her eye, zigzagging its way through all the legs. It was Slick, Karen's Umbreon, and he was carrying what looked like an envelope in his mouth.

"Fucking Agatha. Where does she even find stationaries anymore?" Karen seethed, tossing the letter down in front of her. Clair slid over to her side of the table and gave Slick a rub behind the ear. "I swear to God, that old hag's lost her damn mind."

"Why?" Clair asked, scratching Slick's back. "What's she up to?"

The child responded rapidly, running over his words as he turned the professor down. Furret could not help the silent sigh of relief-- he needed to eat before doing anything. Elm himself half smiled. "A- alright. Wish y- your friend well for me."
He moved to retreat when a pair of men entered the mess hall, one of which he instantly recognised: the Champion of Hoenn and heir to Devon, Steven Stone. He half paled but the steel trainer was respectful as he approached, gently chiding the green haired boy, "Slow down, Wally. You're going to run into someone."
The professor noted that. Wally is his name.
He gave a smile and a nod in return to Steven's own respectful gesture."Sorry, Professor. Please continue."
"I wa-was just seeing if I c- could help this l-lad," he explained quickly, hoping to keep from creating a scene. Though with the near crash collision, that may have already been thrown out the window. As if only then remembering his coffee existed, Elm took a nervous drink as the other guy soothed the child, Wally.
When he talked about something utterly unrelated to him, though, Emmanuel back petaled, not wanting to intrude. He pulled back, giving another awkward smile before returning to his Furret. Her dark eyes held judgement but she did not comment, instead only commenting, "You still need to eat."

"A-alright. Wish y-your friend well for me."

Oh thank god he's not going to force the issue.  Wally manages one last frightened smile at him before turning and... almost colliding with Steven.

Fuck my life.

"Slow down, Wally. You're going to run into someone."  

"Heh, th-that would be funny, wouldn't it be; really funny and kinda clumsy; sure am glad I didn't do that..."  He's leaking weakness all over the place.  Everywhere.  Why does the brain suddenly decide that under duress you're just the worst thing ever at everything?

"Sorry, Professor. Please continue."

"I wa-was just seeing if I c-could help this l-lad," the man explained.  Professor?  Wally's face turns five shades of pale in the wake of this new information.  Is he a normal professor one of the Professors?  Either way he must be someone of considerable social stature for Steven to know him.  Oh god just who did he run into!?

"Everything's all right, hon."  Wallace's hand rubs his head, petting his hair.  On the rare occasions the mask slipped and Wallace saw Wally's anxiety in all its not-glory, normally this action would soothe the boy and take his anxiety levels down several notches.  But in front of a total stranger, the gentle gesture one would give a child much younger than Wally only kicks his anxiety to new heights.  Breathing is becoming difficult. "Thank you for cleaning the table-- I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly. Did you and Steven still want to have that lesson? The training arena might still be vacant."

Calm down.  You have to calm down.  Breathe.  BREATHE.  You have to breathe.  They're watching, they're all watching, and NOBODY CAN EVER KNOW.

With a laugh that sounds far more forced than intended, Wally attempts to disguise his inward collapse by running his hand through his hair and smiling.  "Well, I, uh... I'd love to, but it's not one of my days off, today.  I have work in a half an hour.  But um, I should be off at around three in the afternoon, so Mr. Stone, the suggestion you had about the lesson in the afternoon?  That works fine with me, sir.  I-if you're not busy or anything, of course."  His eyes move to the professor, who has slipped back into the cafeteria.  Probably to go finish the breakfast Wally interrupted.

God, he wants to go lock himself in his room now.

"Heh, th-that would be funny, wouldn't it be; really funny and kinda clumsy; sure am glad I didn't do that..." Wally rambled, clearly in quite a state. Steven hid his worries underneath a comforting smile; had it been his own breakdown that had made him fret so much?

Guilt swam through him as Wallace stepped forward, ruffling the boy's hair. "Everything's all right, hon. Thank you for cleaning the table-- I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly. Did you and Steven still want to have that lesson? The training arena might still be vacant." Steven nodded at Wally eagerly, hoping that he would agree. By the way things had turned out, perhaps taking their minds off the current situation was best for the both of them.

"Well, I, uh... I'd love to, but it's not one of my days off, today," Wally replied with a sheepish smile.  "I have work in a half an hour.  But um, I should be off at around three in the afternoon, so Mr. Stone, the suggestion you had about the lesson in the afternoon?  That works fine with me, sir.  I-if you're not busy or anything, of course."

Steven saw Wally glance behind him at the Professor, who had continued to make his way into the mess hall for breakfast. He hadn't had the opportunity to properly introduce himself to Elm yet; maybe he could start his baby steps into making this day actually manageable by paying him a visit this morning. It was certainly nice to finally have a day not completely overruled by a schedule, especially compared to the chaos from the day before.

"All right then," Steven nodded, "I'll meet you there at 3 o'clock. In the meantime, I think I'll follow Wallace's advice and go for a lie down." He scratched the back of his head, giving his friend a reassuring smile. "And don't worry - I'll go and get some medicine on the way back." Whether he'd actually go back to his room and rest like he'd said he would was a matter for debate. Right now, he quite fancied staring at a wall for a couple of hours while his mind attempted to piece itself back together.

((There's literally nothing that Clair can do without Karen, so skip me please.))