TEEN: Alternate Title (Alternate Champion)

[Welkamo]

A Facadeverse fic

All of the ways Wallace's Championship could go wrong, and all of the ways he tries to make it right.

Or: a chronicle of the Championship of one Wallace Papadakis, and everything else that happened that year.

Spoiler: Author's Notes

This story started, like many of my oneshot ideas that I one day want to get to, because of a comment @System Error made on BHWIB about how my universe's Wallace "will handle the extra pressures of Champion". Spoiler alert: alone, he can't, but with friends... well, you'll see.

This fic mostly centers around Hoenn + the usual Torchic gang, but every so often there might be a gaiden or perspective switch focusing on other characters. This is probably technically slice of life, mixed with the usual mental illness, found family, headcanoning, queer stuff, and secret mafia stuff you'll see in my usual writing.

This story is rated Teen, but it could very well wind up being Mature as things go on.

Spoiler: Content warnings

Usual Torchic!Wallace warnings (including mental illness recovery, eating disorder/drug abuse/self harm recovery, trauma/abuse/rape recovery)
Themes and situations surrounding fertility issues and miscarriage
Abusive/toxic relationships
Anxiety, panic attacks, dissociation, depersonalization, paranoia, hallucinations
Implied sexual content and sexual themes
Slut shaming
Bigotry (including queerphobia, xenophobia, sexism, and classism)
Individual chapters will be tagged, and content warnings may change.

 

[Welkamo]

Spoiler: Content warnings

Panic attacks, vomiting, implied past abuse and eating disorder, queerphobia, vomiting, intrusive thoughts, mentions of alcohol, slut shaming, paranoia

Wallace knew the night was coming, but that didn’t make the days before it any less stressful. It didn’t make the night itself any less stressful. Perhaps he would have been better off in blissful ignorance until the last moment.

It was “Champion Night”, Phoebe’s cutesy name for the party commemorating Steven giving his title of Champion to Wallace. Steven was going to travel, learn about rocks, learn about the world, learn about himself. He had been wanting to do this for a long time, and Wallace couldn’t be happier for him; Steven deserved a bit of peace and enjoyment.

For six months, Steven would be travelling, exploring, learning, discovering himself. And Wallace was to take his seat on the throne of the Hoenn League.

Being such an important night for the League as well as a night that fell on the first night of the year, everyone who was anyone in the League was there: Hoenn League, the Hinode Leagues, hell, there were even a few members of the international Leagues here and there.

Wallace wanted to be celebrating with Steven and the others. He wanted to be a good Champion. Instead, he was locked in the bathroom stall furthest from the door, kneeling on the floor, hanging his head over the toilet, vomiting.

It wasn’t food poisoning; Wallace hadn’t been able to eat anything since breakfast. Illness was also off the list; nothing was going around, and Wallace wasn’t one to risk his already fragile health with that sort of thing. He wasn’t hungover, and he certainly, certainly hadn’t relapsed. No, this was a panic attack. Out of all the nights to have this bad of a panic attack, it had to be this night.

Wallace’s head was spinning, and his hands were shaking. He felt the familiar, smooth feeling of Victoria’s scales as he tried reaching for some toilet paper to clean his mouth off. She was hovering over him, holding his cape in her mouth. He gave her a small, weary smile. Poor Victoria, having to put up with him for so many years. Granted, his mental state had gotten better over the years, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still wasn’t a perfect Trainer for her.

“I’m sorry, Victoria."

“Wallace? You okay?”

Wallace froze at the voice.

Damn it. Sidney’s here.

“What are you doing here?” Wallace asked, trying to speak as though he hadn’t just been puking his guts out. It was harder than he expected, especially since his throat felt like it had been raked with sandpaper.

He heard footsteps echo on the tile floor, until he saw two familiar, blue-grey loafers. Sidney had an unconventional style, but in his own words, at least he could pass it off as business casual.

“Steven sent me to go find you,” Sidney replied. “You’ve been gone for ten minutes. He’s worried about you.”

Ten minutes?! Damn it, so much for trying to pretend things were okay.

“Tell Steven that I’m fine.”

“You sounded like you just flipped your insides out. If anything, I think his worry is warranted for once. You think you need to go to the hospital?”

Wallace groaned. “God damn it, Sidney—”

“I don’t want to hear you mumble some shit about dignity under your breath!”

Sidney’s sudden change in tone startled Wallace.

“Do you think I give a shit about dignity?” Sidney demanded. “You know what’s more important than dignity—if something happens to you on my watch, Winona will kill me, and then Steven will bring me back from the dead just to kill me again!”

The bathroom was silent for a few moments as Wallace mustered the will to stand up. Eventually, he flushed the toilet, stood up from the floor, and, leaning on the wall for support, opened the stall door.

“I didn’t throw up every one of my internal organs,” he mumbled, “so I think I should be good for the rest of the night.”

Sidney raised a concerned eyebrow. “Geez, pal. You don’t look or sound good. You wanna go home?”

“Yes.”

Wallace listlessly walked over to one of the sinks and turned on the faucet. As he washed out his mouth, he heard Sidney say, “All right. I’ll call Winona and tell her to—”

“Don’t.”

Sidney glanced up like Wallace was crazy. “I thought you wanted to go home.”

Wallace let the water run through his hands. He was starting to dissociate; the walls of the bathroom and the confines of his body were starting to feel like a prison for his mind. He needed to ground himself somehow, and water had always been helpful in that regard.

“I do,” Wallace said. He wanted nothing more than to be in the safety of his home, in the safety of Winona’s arms, in the safety away from all of the people watching eyes.

“Then why can’t I tell Winona?” Sidney asked.

“Because I can’t go home.”

Victoria left the stall, and Wallace took his cape from her. Before he left the bathroom, he put it back on and looked over at Sidney. The poor man looked so confused. He didn’t deserve to have to deal with Wallace’s emotional baggage.

“It’s… just something that isn’t agreeing with me. Probably.”

Sidney shook his head, sighing. “Wallace, a lot of people can lie to me, but you sure as hell can’t.”

“How did—” He stopped talking, but it was too late; Wallace had incriminated himself.

Sidney puffed out his chest and put his hands on his hips. “I’m really smart, that’s how.”

Wallace shook his head. Whatever. Sidney could be really smart for one night.

“Don’t tell anyone that I was in here making a fool of myself.”

“But Wallace—”

“That’s an order, Sidney,” Wallace snapped, pointing a cold finger at Sidney.

Sidney held up his hands in defeat, smiling.

“Already exercising your Champion privileges, I see,” he teased.

Wallace dropped his hand to his side. Guilt started sinking in.

“I’m sorry, Sidney,” he said, his voice softer.

Sidney shrugged. “Eh, I was just joking, kid.”

He reached over to put a hand on Wallace, but Wallace pulled away.

Sidney was safe, Sidney was safe. Sidney was a bit strange, but Sidney would never hurt Wallace. Not like… like…

“Everything okay?” Sidney asked.

“Where’s…” Wallace stuttered, “Where’s Steven?”

-

Steven was standing on a balcony, talking to someone on his Pokénav Plus. In contrast to Wallace’s white cape, his suit was ink black.

“...All right, I think this warrants a Knock Off.”

Battle strategies, huh. Knock Off knocked a Pokémmon’s held item away. A very useful move. Of course Steven would know about moves and their effects. He was a former Champion, for crying out loud. If only Wallace was as good as Steven…

Steven looked up, noticing Wallace and Sidney.

“I’ll talk later,” he said before hanging up. A smile came to his face as he walked over to the two. “Where’d you find Wallace?”

“He was—”

“I got lost,” Wallace lied. “Sidney got lost while trying to find me, and we were both lost for a bit. But now”—he smiled—“Now we’re not lost.”

Before Sidney could call out Wallace, Steven laughed and said, “glad to know you two aren’t lost anymore.”

He wrapped an arm around Wallace as the three walked back inside. Steven’s touch was good. Steven’s touch was safe.

The main ballroom was big. It had black, carpeted floors and dark, hardwood walls with ornate carvings of Hoenn’s Weather Trio. The air was alive with chatter, music, and laughter.

Too much noise. Too many people.

But Steven looked happy. There was a big smile on his face as he waved at the people they passed. How did he do it? How did he do the whole Champion thing?

Wallace put up a smile and pretended he was okay. He couldn’t have Steven worrying about him, not now. Poor man worried too much about him already.

Wallace looked around the ballroom to see if he could find Winona, only to realize that Sidney was also nowhere to be seen.

“Steven, have you seen our Winona bird?”

Steven thought for a moment. “She was in a yellow halter dress, wasn’t she?”

The worry in Wallace’s shoulders faded, and he sighed with a dreamy smile.

“Doesn’t she look beautiful in it, Steven? She looks so good in yellow. She’s like sunshine on flowers.”

His mind wandered a bit as he daydreamed Winona. They were technically, legally married, but… well, the news hadn’t reached the public, and they still hadn’t had their wedding ceremony. Marrying Winona and Steven… Wallace imagined how beautiful the wed—

“Steven!” Lance called.

Wallace rolled his eyes. Lance, his “fellow” Champion, was standing with who he could only assume were other Champions, judging by how Cynthia was also standing with him. There was a pretty woman in white, a kid who looked too young to be here, and a man in an outrageous cape—though Wallace would take that cape over Lance’s any day. That dastard had the gall to buy the same cape several times, as if his first disgraceful cape wasn’t enough, as if—

Steven playfully nudged Wallace back into reality.

“Don’t get into too many fights when I’m in my caves.” Steven began walking towards the others. “I’ll see you and Winona on the dance floor soon!”

-

While trying to find Winona, Wallace sat down in one of the chairs by the refreshments table, slowly eating some of the water crackers in an attempt to put something back in his system. He was starting to get light headed, so he tried deep breathing. He also smiled, trying to hide the fact that he really didn’t want to be at the party anymore. There were other people at the refreshments table, and Wallace prayed that no one would try to talk to him.

“Hey, Wallace!”

Guess the gods are busy tonight.

Blue was walking over, along with a few other Gym Leaders: Volkner, Clair, and Raihan. Wallace had heard of them, but he didn’t know they were all... friends?

“It seems you’re leaving our club,” Blue teased. “Darn, Wallace, how are you going to deal with Lance and Cynthia without us?”

Wallace cocked his head. “What… club?”

“The Second Best Club. The club for the eighth Gym Leaders.”

“Who are cooler than Champions,” Clair added.

Huh. Wallace didn’t know that there was an eighth Gym Leader group. Was Wallace still a part of it? Was he “uncool” now? Was that a bad thing?!

Wallace stood up. Bad idea, because his head started spinning again.

“Speaking of cool,” he started, “I need to find someone.”

“Are you sick of us already?” Raihan joked.

Shoot. They think you hate them. They think you hate them.

“O-Of course not,” Wallace stammered. “I just—”

“Roll camera, Ty!”

Two other people appeared just a few feet from Wallace: Gabby and Ty of Hoenn TV. Old…friends? Acquaintances? People who seemed to follow him everywhere he went just so they could get the latest scoop on him? What lingering anxiety he had from before increased tenfold—maybe twentyfold—when he saw them.

“Hello there, Hoenn,” Gabby chimed as she pressed up against him. “We’re here live to conduct an interview with your newest Champion: Sootopolis City’s Wallace!”

Please get off of me please get off of me please get off of me.

Gabby’s touch wasn’t safe. Gabby’s touch was scary, like all of the questions she asked. She couldn’t be trusted. She couldn’t be trusted. She couldn’t be trusted. No one was safe, not Gabby, not Ty, not Blue and his friends, not the millions of people watching.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wallace saw Steven, who was greeting guests at the door. He looked so calm, so collected, so much like the perfect Champion: a Champion who could talk to people, a Champion who could face the press and public with grace, a Champion who was fit to represent Hoenn. Champion Steven had been the crown jewel of Hoenn.

And Champion Wallace? Champion Wallace was seconds away from either throwing up or dropping dead on live TV.

“How does it feel to be rising from your position as Gym Leader to Champion?” Gabby asked.

Right. He had to look like a good Champion. He had to look like a good replacement for Steven.

“Oh, it’s been… it’s been fine.” Wallace could practically hear the whispers of viewers: What the hell is he saying? “I’ll miss the trainers at the Sootopolis Gym, but the Elite Four members have been more than welcoming.”

Gabby beamed a smile. “Well, that’s lovely! I hear your former mentor is taking over the Gym.”

“Yes. Juan is cer-certainly the best person I-I could ask to run the Gym in my place.” If I were Juan, I would be ashamed of mentoring such a fool.

“Your fans have certainly been thrilled for you! And your the country’s first Sootopolitan Champion! What a milestone!”

“Heh… that’s…” Why is that Sootopolitan slut representing Hoenn?! Why is some freak allowed to be Champion! Someone should just kill him already! Kill him! KILL HIM!

“Wallace? Is everything okay?”

All eyes on him. All eyes on him. ALL EYES AND HANDS ON HIM CHOKING WATCHING WATCHING CHOKING.

“…Excuse me a minute,” Wallace whispered.

-

As soon as Wallace staggered out to the garden, he leaned over a railing and threw up.

He couldn’t make sense of his surroundings, so he could only close his eyes and pray that no one else was outside, seeing how imperfect of a Champion he was. His vision was blurry, like he was trying to open his eyes underwater, but he eventually came to the conclusion that no one else was outside.

“Wallace… Hey, Wallace, it’s okay. I’m right here. Just get it all up.”

Well, no one else save a certain woman in a yellow dress.

Winona had one hand on Wallace’s back (her touch was safe), and Wallace gripped the other tightly on the railing of the bridge (her touch would protect him). The whole world seemed to be spinning. He only had two things on his mind as he was heaving: the fear that Gabby and Ty had followed him, and the fear that he would pass out. For a moment, he was even convinced that he would choke on nothing to death.

“Wallace, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

No. No. Gabby and Ty weren’t here. He wouldn’t pass out. He wouldn’t die. Winona was here with him. Winona would keep him safe.

He nodded in response to Winona’s question.

“Can you speak?”

He shook his head. That was all he could do: nod or shake his head. At least Winona understood.

“That’s okay,” Winona reassured him. “We’re going to go up to Steven’s hotel room. Does that sound good?”

 

[Welkamo]

Spoiler: Content warnings

Mental illness, past abuse and self harm, self hatred, anxiety, mentions of drug abuse and seizures, internalized ableism, mentions of vomiting

Wallace woke up with the parched, foul taste of vomit still lingering in his mouth and the aftereffects of his panic attack still foggy in his head. The rest of the night before had been a blur. There were the faintest shadows of memories of Winona helping him take off his cape, of Steven returning to the room, of Steven and Winona talking. Recalling it all over again felt like trying to remember a dream that was quickly trying to slip away.

But one thing was still clear: he had made a fool of himself at that party. He had made a fool of himself on the first night of the new year. He had made a fool of himself on his first night as Champion. He had made a fool of himself in front of the whole damn world. What kind of Champion was he?

“Good morning, Wallace.”

Wallace sat up. Steven was in the kitchenette, boiling a pot of water, smiling.

“How are you?” Steven asked.

There was a… mental block in Wallace’s head. He couldn’t speak. It was too hard to speak. Too overwhelming. Too much.

He took a deep breath, holding up his hands to sign out, [“I need water.”]

Steven took a moment to register what Wallace was saying, but when he did, he gasped and took a cup from the cupboard to fill it with water. Once the cup was full, he briskly walked over to the bed and sat next to Wallace.

“Here you go.”

The water was ambrosia to Wallace’s throat, but he was too thirsty to drink it slowly. He was also too thirsty to notice that Steven had walked back into the kitchenette, and now Steven was walking back with a Spheal wearing an orange vest.

“I brought Duncan,” he said.

(“Hello, Wallace!”) Duncan waved cheerfully with both of his flippers. (“Did you have fun at the party?”)

Wallace shook his head.

(“What? No fun at all?”) Poor thing looked so worried, made even more heartbreaking by the fact that Duncan was just a ball of blubber. (“Must have been a square time…”)

Wallace nodded. [“Panic attack.”]

Steven couldn’t understand Duncan, but he could understand Wallace. He put Duncan in Wallace’s lap so the Spheal could help by hugging him.

(“I can come with you to square parties so you can feel better!”)

Well, Wallace could… he probably needed Duncan, since he was, well, a service Pokémon, Wallace’s service Pokémon, a Pokémon who was there to keep Wallace from having panic attacks. Or PTSD flashbacks. Or severe psychotic episodes or alcohol binges or seizures or—

“Are you feeling any better?” Steven asked.

Wallace was supposed to feel better. Wallace was supposed to feel better, especially five years after… the fact. That’s why he couldn’t bring Duncan to parties. Duncan had his service Pokémon vest. Duncan had his little tag that said “I’m a babysitter for this unstable manchild whore and he can’t function without me even after five years”. Champions didn’t need service Pokémon to help them; they could help themselves.

But Wallace couldn’t.

Wallace shook his head at Steven’s question. Steven was understanding. Steven had taught him HSL finger spelling and basic words and phrases. Steven was always open to negotiations on boundaries and limits. Steven understood Wallace’s issues, but Steven had to understand that Wallace needed to be better by now.

“Would a shower or bath help?” Steven asked.

[“Where’s Winona?”]

“She’s talking to some of her friends. Flannery got into a pretty heated argument with Chili.”

Wallace rolled his eyes at Steven’s pun, eliciting a laugh from the poor former Champion.

“Winona should be back soon, don’t worry. In the meantime, I’m going to make breakfast. Go treat yourself to a nice shower.”

-

Water had always had a therapeutic effect on Wallace. Perhaps it was because of Sootopolis City’s affinity for the sea, or maybe it was the fact that Wallace was a Water type trainer.

He let himself take in the warm water of the shower, the calming steam, the smoothness of the tiles. He tried not to think about the world outside the shower doors, instead focusing on the hotel’s fancy, vanilla/orange-scented shampoo and conditioner. An interesting combination for sure. It made him think of color schemes of white, brown, and orange. He didn’t really think about warmer color schemes as much as cooler ones…

A towel and bathrobe was waiting on the counter when Wallace finished his shower. As he put on the bathrobe, he caught a glance of his reflection in the mirror. The glance easily became a long stare.

Even after five years, he still looked underweight. Even after five years, he had bruises and cuts from abuse, either from others or himself. Even after five years, he was… he was…

Who is that? Of course he knew who it was. It was himself: Wallace Izumi Papadakis. Gym Leader turned Champion, Coordinator, and guardian and poster child of Sootopolis City. But he didn’t feel like he was the same person as the reflection staring back at him. He felt like a detached soul staring at a freak he didn’t know. It made all of his imperfections—the physical, social, and psychological ones—all the more easier to see.

Five years. It’s been five years. What can’t you be normal again already?

Wallace turned on the faucet and let the water run under his fingers. It was cold in a comforting way. It helped ground him in reality. It lowered his anxiety to a level where he could open the door to the bathroom.

-

Steven was drinking a cup of tea on the sofa. Another cup, along with a plate of toast, sat on the coffee table in front of him. Duncan was having a blast rolling around the perimeter of the room.

Wallace was hungry—no, he was starving—but years of ignoring hunger pangs had taken their toll on him, not to mention his anxiety over eating in front of other people. The latter had gotten better over the years, though, to the point that he could eat in front of people he was close to without having a panic attack. And Steven was certainly close. Steven, Winona, Lisia, Juan, Nicole, Raphael. Those people were close, safe, good. Every other person in the world was a stranger, dangerous, bad.

“How do you do it, Steven?” Wallace asked as he sat down next to him.

“Do what?” Steven smirked playfully. “Look this sexy?”

That got a small chuckle out of Wallace. “No, I mean how do you handle everything so… perfectly?”

It was Steven’s turn to chuckle—no, laugh. Louder than was normal for him. “Wallace, Wallace, Wallace, you silly, I don’t handle everything perfectly—at all—and to be honest, I don’t know how I even handled last night. Usually, big crowds overwhelm me, but sometimes, they randomly just… don’t. My brain’s weird like that.” Steven wrapped his arm around Wallace’s shoulders. “Everyone’s brain is a little weird.”

Wallace’s frown didn’t let up, though… Steven? Being nervous?

Steven sighed. “This is going to sound really corny, but hear me out.” His voice had lowered to something less joking and more soothing, like a brook gliding over pebbles. “It’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to not be perfect every single moment. Do you promise to keep that in mind as the new Hoenn Champion?”

It’s okay to not be okay. Wallace had heard that phrase more times than he could count: from therapists to graphics on social media. It didn’t even feel like a real phrase to him anymore. But Steven was saying it, damn it, so it wasn’t more than a string of words.

“I’ll try.”

The smile was back on Steven’s face. “Well, I’ll be halfway around the world at times, so it’s going to be hard for me to keep track of you.”

An idea seemed to strike, because Steven got up and walked over to the closet. As he rummaged through his suitcase, someone knocked on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Steven sprung back up before Wallace had even a moment to react and ran to open the door.

Winona waved to Wallace as she walked into the room, a sympathetic smile on her face.

“Feeling any better?” she asked.

“A little bit thanks to Steven, and a little bit more thanks to you.”

Wallace stood up so he could wrap his arms around Winona. He simply had to greet her well; she was so good to him, and even her presence was enough to lift his mood.

“How’s Flannery?” Steven asked.

Winona shook her head against Wallace’s shoulder. “She’s still not on speaking terms with Chili.”

Steven laughed as he walked back to his suitcase. “Well, let’s hope this one’s like that fight with Brawly. Remember that? I barely do, it ended so quickly.”

Winona shrugged. “It’s Flannery; who knows?”

Steven stood up, hands clasped around something. When he stopped in front of Wallace, he held it out: a reddish pink, crystalline stone.

“Is that a ruby?” Wallace asked.

“Close.” It was clear Steven was lying. “It’s rose quartz. A mineral, not a rock.”

Wallace picked up the quartz and turned it in his hands a few times. It was a very beautiful rock—mineral. If safety and warmth has colors, then they would be the same color as this rock. Even just looking at the hue of pink made him feel like things… like things would be okay.

”Whenever I’m far away,” Steven said, “think of me as that little mineral, there to guide you and help you. I’ll call you two often, of course, but whenever I can’t, then I’m the rose quartz.”

Wallace had to shake his head at that—Steven, a rock? Perhaps Steven truly had snapped—though in fairness, this was probably one of Steven’s tamest ideas. And… well, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. Having the crystallization of Steven’s safety and warmth in his hands didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

“And I’ll be there for you,” Winona added. “Even when I’m at the Gym or dealing with the other Gym Leaders, the doors to my Gym and my arms will always be open to you.”

Wallace smiled. He didn’t deserve partners like Steven and Winona. He didn’t—

No. That was his mind being mean to him again. He wasn’t going to let it win, not now at least. He was safe with the two greatest people in the world.

”What’s Rose Quartz Steven’s advice right now?” he asked Steven.

Steven smiled. “Eat some toast.”

 

[Welkamo]

Spoiler: Content warnings

Content warnings: Panic attacks, vomiting, discussions of mental illness, mentions of past sexual harassment/abuse and bigotry, sexual innuendo, mentions of penises

Staring at paperwork was worse than eye contact.

Steven was a numbers person, Winona was a words person, and Wallace was a pictures person. Paperwork was all numbers and words, with numbers disguised as pictures. Sure, graphs organized numbers into something he could at least comprehend, but numbers were scary, especially ones about Sootopolis City. Unemployment wasn’t falling fast enough, and crime seemed to be slowly ticking up higher and higher. Wasn’t Michaelides supposed to do something about that?

Speaking of which, the city’s mayor had sent Wallace an invitation to a charity ball. An event featuring the socialites of Sootopolis City. The same people who had called Wallace slurs. The same people who had flirted with him, even when he was barely a teen. The same people who—

Victoria bumped her head against the side of Wallace’s, snapping his vision of blurry text into clear focus. He reassured himself with the fact that his desk was neatly organized; perfectly white desk, perfectly straight pencils and pens, perfect color coordination—

“Hey, kid.”

Wallace jumped at the voice. Sidney was standing over his desk with…

“Sidney, get your foot off my table.”

Sidney frowned. “Steven let me do it.”

“Well of course Steven would let you do it.” Wallace gestured with his hand to emphasize his words. “Now would you get it off before the viruses and bacteria spread to the rest of my desk?”

Sidney surrendered, only to sit where his foot had been. Wallace made a mental note to get extra chairs for the office, though he couldn’t guarantee to his thoughts that they would match his current one.

“Why’s your office so sad and lonely?” Sidney asked as his eyes wandered around the empty walls of the room. “Steven says you’re an artist, so where’s the art?”

…Would Sidney get the half-truth, or the fuller-truth?

“Well… uh… doesn’t that seem… selfish?” Half-truth would do.

Sidney’s brow scrunched in perplexion. “You sayin’ art galleries are dens of selfishness or something?”

He had a point.

“Alright, then,” Wallace sighed, smiling. “I’ll see what I can find at home.”

Sidney smiled, his expression softening into… well, the softest expression Sidney could probably give. And then he started laughing, a big grin on his face.

“What, do you draw penises or something?”

“No, I don’t draw penises!” That was a lie. “What’s so funny about that?”

Sidney answered by laughing more, which wasn’t really an answer at all.

“You’re an odd man, Sidney,” Wallace said.

“Yeah, but it’s better to be an odd Sidney than a boring man.”

Wallace raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Sidney looked down at Wallace. “Why spend your life trying to appease everyone? No matter how boring you act, how boring you dress, someone’s always going to hate you. It’s better to be interesting. People might not like you, but those people are probably just curious about things people they’ve never seen before. If you let them in… maybe they’ll start to like you.”

Well, Wallace hated to admit it, but maybe Sidney had a point.

Maybe.

-

Wallace had read somewhere that ginger and lemon were good for digestion, and he took that to mean that drinking three cups of ginger-lemon tea would help him keep at least one meal down.

It was nice to get up and out of his office, even if it meant going down to the break room to use the teapot, risking having to talk to a stranger—

“Hiiiiii, Wallace!!!”

—Or Phoebe.

He couldn’t chastise the girl for her cheeriness; she had spent her whole life with ghosts, and she still managed to keep it together with a smile and boundless energy. Could she see the spirits in heaven and hell, or just the ones stuck in the purgatory of the physical world? Was Megalos allowed to wander as a ghost, or did the Angels of Death condemn him to hell? Could she—

“Hey, Wallace? Earth to Wallace?”

Phoebe waved a hand in front of Wallace’s face. He looked down at his cup of tea so he could avoid her confused stare.

“Sorry, I’m… I’m a bit tired today.” And nauseous.

“Well, why not have some coffee?” Phoebe suggested. “Oh wait, you’re a tea person. I forgot.”

It was Wallace’s turn to be confused. “How did…?”

“Well, you’ve made a lot of it today…” She paused. “Also Steven told me. He told me all about how to make you feel welcome! No jumpscares from my friends, no loud noises…”

Wallace’s heart… felt something. Wow. No one had ever been so understanding. So—

“...Wallace, do you have autism?”

That question shocked Wallace. “Do-Do I?”

“I dunno. Steven does. I do. I think maybe you do, too… Crap, that’s a weird question, isn’t it?”

It was, but it was an important question. “Do you think I have autism?”

Phoebe shrugged. “The Water type and art fixation, lack of eye contact, lack of social things, being overwhelmed by loud places… that sort of stuff.”

Maybe Phoebe had a point. Maybe Phoebe could be trusted. Maybe—

She’s luring you in. If you tell her anything, she’ll use that against you and tell everyone and hurt you and—

“Hey Wallace, I’m sorry for asking that. I don’t—”

“Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe, you didn’t do anything wrong. I… I did.”

“No you didn’t! Don’t be silly!”

Wallace glided out of the office lounge, cup rattling in his shaky hand.

“Wallace!” Phoebe called. “Hey Wallace! I’m sorry for asking those questions and making you uncomfortable! I can stop the uncomfortable questions! And if you are something, I’ll still love you!”

Despite the fact that he was seconds away from throwing up, he stopped and turned back to Phoebe, who was standing some distance away from him.

She didn’t… She didn’t look like she was lying. Phoebe was too full of sunshine to lie maliciously.

Wallace managed to smile before his nausea flared up again.

-

Lunch did not end up staying down.

It was a miracle he made it back to the bathroom in his office rather than having to resort to the public restroom. Public restrooms were scary, especially men and women’s—

“Wallace? Is everything okay?”

Shit. Shit shit shit.

It was one thing for Sidney to find him vomiting, but Glacia?!

“Go away.” Shit. Not the most polite response from the most polite person to the most polite woman. But Wallace was too exhausted for anything better.

“Where did your manners go?” Glacia chuckled. So maybe she was joking. Thank the Sky Dragon. “Can I come in?”

“No.”

“Can you come out?”

“No.”

“…Oh dear…”

Wallace stood up and flushed the toilet. His head hurt like hell, but the last thing he needed was Glacia calling the ER.

“Fine. Fine.” He groaned and immediately regretted it. But Glacia seemed more concerned than shocked.

“Ojej, Wallace! Czy wszystko w porządku?” She put a hand to his forehead, mumbling Orzeskian under her breath.

“I think I’ll be okay if I just sit down.” Wallace didn’t know a whole lot of Glacia’s mother tongue, but he could make his assumptions.

“Sit down?! You’re lying down, young man.”

“But—“

“Trust me, I have two children.”

Oh right. That part. Glacia’s daughters. Only about a few years younger than Wallace, if he was remembering right. Thinking about it made him think about having kids of his own…

“How did you do it?” he mumbled. “The having kids thing?”

Glacia rolled her eyes. “I think you know very well, Sidney.”

-

Wallace found himself lying on the sofa in his office. He had a blanket—a white and blue crocheted blanket. It was... It was like a hug. He wrapped himself up tighter. It was like getting a hug without the humiliation that came with asking for one.

The snowflake pattern told him more than enough about its creator.

“Good afternoon, Wallace,” Glacia said, taking a sip from the cup of tea she was holding. She was sitting at Wallace's desk. “How was your nap?”

“I didn’t think I was tired enough to fall asleep for…” his eyes widened when he glanced over at the clock. “...three hours?!?!”

“It’s okay, Wallace. Steven would sometimes crash at his desk after a particularly long or stressful day, so I’m—”

“Not like that!” Thoughts were spinning in Wallace's head, and he started to feel nausea creeping up. He sat up, not bothering to take the blanket off of his shoulders. “I need to finish the paperwork! I need to get ready for a meeting with Cockburn! I need to get ready for a dinner with the mayor! I need to—”

“Wallace.”

Glacia remained calm, even as Wallace felt the world fall apart. She was… perfect.

“Deep breath in with me, Wallace. Breath in… Hold… Breath out… … Breath in… Hold… Breath out… …”

Slowly, Wallace’s thoughts and heart calmed down as his nausea subsided. It was only by a little at a time, but with a little at a time—steady breath in, steady breath out—he managed to come back down, managed to give Glacia a small smile.

"There we go," Glacia said softly, her smile dainty. "Winona says that art helps you when you're stressed. Why don't I teach you how to crochet? Maybe you can make me a blanket."

"But what about—"

"Wallace—”

"If I'm not perfect, then I'll be a failure to Sootopolis City and Hoenn."

Glacia rested her hand under her chin, closing her eyes in contemplation.

"Wallace," she eventually said, "have you ever seen snowflakes up close?"

Wallace nodded, and Glacia smiled.

"Have you ever noticed how each one is unique, and how no snowflake is perfect?"

"I've heard of the first part," Wallace answered.

"Well, everyone is like a snowflake. Everyone of us is special in our own, unique way. No one is perfect, but that doesn't make anyone any less special."

"But Glacia—"

"Now come on." Glacia stood up. "Let's go crochet together."

-

Maybe the Elite Four was safe. Maybe the Elite Four would understand Wallace’s issues, accept him, love him. Maybe he could… be more than coworkers with them? Like friends? What even was a friend?

Wallace walked down the hallway to Drake's office with a boatload of questions in his mind: “How much did Steven tell you about my issues?” “Do you think I’m weird?” “Would you like to meet Duncan?” Questions like that.

“Wallace! It’s wonderful to see you.”

Planning to ask the questions was easier than actually asking the questions.

Drake was looking up from a book, a bright smile on his face. Wallace was standing in the doorway of the study, his face stoic and his posture perfect.

Drake put down his book and gestured towards the chair next to him. “Sit down, sit down.”

Wallace waved a dismissive hand. “I’m going to be going home soon, so I don’t have much time to chat. I just need to ask you something.” That wasn't a lie, but... there was something in the back of Wallace's mind, something that was scared of being alone with Drake.

“Come on, lad. Surely you have the time to sit down and have a chat with ol’ Drake.”

The chair was soft (safe, like the rest of Drake’s office). The shelves were filled with a fleet of ships in bottles (to keep the office safe from danger), and the walls were covered in maps (this place was safe).

“So,” Drake began, “how goes your Championhood? Is the paperwork being kind to ya?”

Wallace shrugged. “It’s been… fine.” Granted, he hadn’t been able to get to doing much of it, but at least an effort was made.

“How’s your missus?”

“Winona? She’s doing well. She’s a very… strong Gym Leader.” Wallace smiled as he thought of Winona. He missed her, even after only twelve hours.

“So I hear…”

Wallace let Drake ramble on about Winona, because it was nice to hear someone else praise her, and because it meant Wallace didn’t have to ask any questions, because it kept Wallace's mind off of—

“...But that doesn’t seem to be what’s wrong, now is it?”

—that.

“Well.”

Drake’s expression harshened. “Is there something you aren’t telling us?”

Fuck fuck fuck he looked mad. “No! Of course not! I’m not... I..."

"Wallace—"

Wallace rose from his seat and briskly walked out of the room. He was safe he was safe he wasn't safe he wasn't safe.

Spoiler: Translation notes

Ojej, Wallace! Czy wszystko w porządku? - Polish, "Oh dear, Wallace! Are you alright?"

 

[Welkamo]

Spoiler: Content Warnings

Implied sexual content, self hatred and slut shaming

6:00

The sun came up at 6 o’clock, along with the alarm clock, and along with Winona.

The other side of the bed was empty. Winona sighed. The days of early morning kisses and cuddles from Wallace were getting few and far between. Oh well. At least the two always had the nights to spend together.

But she couldn’t dwell on those thoughts for long. She had to fly to work at the Gym, and she had a routine of things to do before that.

Reluctantly, she loosened the embrace her blanket had around her and got out of bed. She had to be strong without anyone or anything to help her. She didn’t need to rely on the comforts of the night to shelter her from the storms of the day. She was Winona, Leader of the Hoenn Gym Leaders, Hoenn’s strongest Gym Leader, bird user taking flight into the world. She hadn’t gained any of those titles through luck or birthright, and she had to show she deserved every single one of them.

-

6:11

The bathroom was lit by the dim, blue glow of the predawn sky peeking through the blinds. Everything was some shade of bluish gray, but Winona could still make out the lines on the stick she held.

Or the one line. Just like everyday. Oh well. At least she could try to change that after work.

She tossed the stick in the empty box, reminding herself to ask Ataksak, her Swellow, to go to the pharmacy to get more tests.

-

6:40

Breakfast was toast and miso, as always. She was improving her Sootopolitan Chrysosian a lot—enough to determine whether or not the morning papers had any degrading rumors or gossip in them. The worst of it was starting to die down, thank goodness. Maybe she would stop reading them and just immediately throw them in the recycling.

But then how would she get her news? Her PokéNav Plus? There was worse stuff on the internet. At least newspapers had editors.

She needed better things to read to teach herself Sootopolitan Chrysosian. Maybe there were some romance books Wallace—

Do you really want to be reading that trash? What are you, some kind of slut?

She ignored her thoughts and walked out onto the patio, where her Pokémon were idly chatting with each other. She tossed a handful of birdseed on the glazed stone tiles and beamed a bright smile at them. “Good morning, sweet darlings.” She looked up at the sky. The sun wasn’t visible from the crater of Sootopolis City yet, but the oranges, golds, and light blues of the sky were. “And good morning, beautiful sky! May today be a wonderful day!”

-

12:35

Winona couldn’t remember a slower day at the Gym in her life.

She only faced one challenger from nine to five: Ashley, her youngest and newest Gym Trainer. The girl had the drive and heart of a promising trainer, but for the time being, she couldn’t surpass her mentor.

In the afternoon, Winona let her Pokémon out to soar around the skies over the city. She stood on the battlefield, staring up at the windmills, staring up at the trainer’s platforms, staring up at the limitless skies and the endless beauty and opportunities and—

“Ms. Winona?”

Ashley was looking up at Winona. She was much shorter, only going up to Winona’s knee. Her blue hair was also short. There was still that spark of passion in her matching blue eyes that had been there during the battle.

“Ms. Winona, why are you so strong?”

Winona knelt down so she was near eye level with Ashley. “Well, I was once a kid just like you, and I wasn’t always… this strong. Sure, I won some battles, but I also lost a lot of battles.”

By “battles”, Winona was implying several things, but by using such a vague term as “battles”, it could apply to Ashley’s predicament.

Ashley gasped. “You lost battles?”

“You learn as much as you do from your losses as you do from your wins.”

Winona forced a small smile. If only she could take that advice to heart. But she was a leader, not a follower. If she could help a student, that would be enough.

-

16:22

Flannery called Winona, inviting her to meet her at the Well Tempered Pidgey after work ended at 17 o’clock. Such was customary between the two; it gave them time to catch up and chat about pleasant things and… well, it gave Winona what she didn’t have as a kid: friends. Flannery was the closest thing Winona had to what seemed to be a friend; Roxanne, Brawly, Norman, and the twins were more like coworkers, they were so new to the League. There was Wattson, but... he was older, and Winona had never gotten to know him well. Flannery was the closest thing Winona had to a human friend in the “mutual affection without sexual or family relations” sense.

Was that what friendship was? The dictionary said so, but Winona wasn’t like Steven or Wallace. She was more about experiencing things to find out what they meant. There were so many things to experience: love, flying, freedom—

“Winona! Hey! Winona! Is your head up in the clouds again?”

She was back in the real world again: Warm light peeping through the lattice windows. Paper lanterns on the ceilings, plants and posters on the walls. Warm tea in her cup. Scones on her plate.

17:45

“Watcha thinking about?” Flannery teased.

“Birds.” It started as a lie, but now Winona was thinking about birds. Birds were so pretty. Birds were so—

“That’s really cool,” Flannery said. “What kind of birds are you thinking about?”

“That’s really cool.” “That’s really cool.” That was such a kind thing to say. So why was Winona’s mind whipping around like a Latios and Latias playing tag?

“Swellow.” Winona’s mind was spinning around with Latios, Latios, and Swellow. “Doesn’t Swellow have such pretty wings?"

Flannery doesn't care about your stupid birds.

Yes she does.

Just shut up.

-

19:50



Hello, darling. I apologize for being so quiet today. My new duties have made me… quite busy today. I promise to make up for this tonight. (;
-Wallace



The living room was a decently-sized space made bigger by its high roof. It had simple, white walls and simple, azure furniture that could easily be pushed to the side to create ample space. Arched doorways and a large staircase in the center led to other rooms. The two things that stood out the most were the rug, decorated with patterns of cyan and navy and white, and the paintings of Water type Pokémon on the wall.

It was a big enough room for Winona to let out her nervous energy through dance.

The first few songs were high energy pop songs, the kind of music Winona had listened to as a late teen. She could jump, spin around, spread her arms and legs out, be free. The songs got slower and slower in tempo as the hours went on.

Hours later, that stupid nervous energy went away.

-

22:44

Winona stopped the music. “Lilycove Waltz” was about to play. She couldn’t dance to that without Wallace. First of all, it was a waltz, a dance meant for two people. Second of all, it was their waltz. It was silly, perhaps even childish, but the song wasn’t complete without him. Maybe she would go to bed early and—

“Hello darling.”

Wallace was standing in the archway leading to the hallway. His cape was draped over his shoulders and fell to the floor like the waiting wings of a noble bird; his arms were out and ready to take Winona in a warm embrace.

“The wind and waves have kept us apart for far too long,” he whispered has he held her closer, “but I have returned, my love.”

Winona took Wallace’s hands and guided him over to the center of the living room. She let go of them—temporarily, so she could start up the music. Wallace's eyes lit up with a glow of joy.

“Shall we?” she said with a faux curtsy.

Wallace dramatically bowed in return. “We shall.”

-

0:03

The pressure of Wallace’s head was soothing on Winona’s chest. His breathing was slow, stable, soothing. His fingers were lazily tracing across her bare skin.

“I missed you, darling.” Wallace’s voice was husky yet comforting. “I missed every part of you.”

“How was today?”

“It was fine. But why worry about today? Until tomorrow, let us only think about you and me.”

“Did you take your medication?”

Wallace was silent for a moment, then he quietly chuckled. “You win your little game. You've found a loophole.”

He kissed Winona’s cheek and she giggled, but then she forced herself to frown. “Did you?”

“I did.” He buried his face in her neck and peppered it with kisses. “Did you miss me, darling?”

Winona smiled. “I’ve told you, what, thirty one times tonight?”

“Say it a thirty second time. Did you miss me?”

Winona wrapped her arm around Wallace. “Of course I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Winona stayed up as long as she could. She wanted this moment to last as long as it could, because when it was all over, it would be just another day.

 

[InfiniteBakuphoon]

Hello there! This is my first entry for the February review challenge. I figured that it would be nice — and appropriate, in a weird kind of way — for this story to be my first given our history when it comes to me reviewing your stuff, haha. And also because I read it before so I figured that it would easy to review, but forget that I said that! There’s a lot that I’d like to talk about, so I suppose I’ll just get straight into it!

Now, to start, I remember that you expanded a bit on the nature of mental illness and how it’s treated in the Pokémon world in one of your blogs, and what I got from that is that it’s not unlike how it currently is in the real world (or in America, at least; a lot of other places are obviously… different, for better or worse). That is to say, there’s been a lot of progress in awareness and acceptance on both sides of the aisle (those who experience “mental illness”, as we know it today, and those who don’t), but that there’s definitely still a very long way to go. I remember asking that question because with the first chapter especially, we don’t necessarily directly see the kinds of things that the mentally ill, and specifically our troubled focus character Wallace here, have to deal with. But though Wallace’s internal monologue, there’s a lot that’s implied, at least for them and their unique life as the new Champion. Although given that Wallace is clearly suffering from some of anxiety disorder here — with all of his constant worrying about what other people are thinking and all, to the point of having panic attacks — I kind of wondered how much of that is being caused by said anxiety causing his mind to overthink things and distort things around him to make them appear worse than they actually are, and how much of that is being caused by legitimately demanding stuff that’s hard for anyone to deal with, let alone for someone who experiences anxiety. I think that perhaps it’s a little bit of both: things are hard, yes, but for someone like Wallace, it’s going to be really hard… at least, not without some help. With leads me to my next point…

…Wallace being afraid to ask for help. Afraid that doing so would make him seem weak, and that it would be beneath the title of Champion that he takes very seriously. All to the point where the idea of even something like having a service animal — that damn adorable Spheal, aww! — or simply bowing out of an interview that he’s clearly completely mentally unprepared for is completely out of the question for him. Even for someone who clearly loves Pokémon so much with the former, or for someone who would literally get sick from doing the latter (which, indeed, is exactly what happens). While, again, I suspect that a lot of that comes from his anxious thinking patterns, I also certainly think that perhaps a long history of the world around him — and people like him — ignoring and dismissing the struggles of the mentally ill gives the impression that there’s no “exit ramp”, so to speak, when he’s in trouble, thus keeping him in that anxious feedback loop. And so in order to keep that anxiety from consuming him completely, in a world without an “exit ramp”, Wallace constantly does everything that he can — what he thinks he has to do — to appear “normal” and competent as what the ideal image of a Champion is apparently held up to be in this universe, or at least was for some extended — and powerful — period of time. Even having obvious support all around him in the form of Steven, Winona, and his Elite Four isn’t enough to break him out of this mindset. And given how much Wallace talks to himself about those who are “safe” and who are not, and how even said people who, again, clearly support him more often being on the “not safe” side of that equation, it makes me wonder… exactly what might have Wallace gone through in the past for him to have thoughts like that? Something that seems to be beyond even just his anxiety issues, it seems to me?

I don’t know. All of it is quite a lot to process for me, honestly, with so much left unsaid, so much implied, and so much left a mystery. Everything here is ripe for speculation and such, but given the subject matter at hand, you of course have to be careful. And in many cases, knowledgeable, about said subject matter at hand. And while I, with my own “stuff”, can relate to some of the things that Wallace is experiencing (anxiety, to the point of doubting yourself and others), there’s a lot of stuff that I admit I can’t really relate to as much (anxiety, to the point of having panic attacks). I suspect that much of your audience will be in a similar boat there, with some perhaps not even experiencing mental illness at all. And much like the world of this fic as both implied by Wallace’s inner monologue and more explicitly outlined in your blog post, there’s a lot of misunderstanding, something that I suspect could be aggrevated somewhat from the kind of speculation that I found myself indulging in with the first few chapters especially. While I’m confident that future chapters will fill in some of the holes in Wallace’s past that will help explain some of his thought processes and behaviors, my suggestion to you would be to perhaps go about doing this sooner rather than later, or at least give the reader the impression that the story is getting there, slowly but surely. I feel that I understand what Wallace is going through, but I think that I really want to know more of the why of what Wallace is going through, as part of what I presume will be a journey of understanding, healing, and acceptance for him, one with a hopefully happy or at least “better-than-how-you-started” ending for him.

Some other things that I’d like to say that I think are better for me to parse in list form, and then I think that’ll be the end of it:

• The overall flow of the entire story so far has come off as slightly weirder than I thought that it be for reasons that I haven’t really been able to pinpoint. The best way that I can describe it, I think, is that everything feels more like a series of vignettes more than a continuous “saga”, so to speak, even with there being an obvious linear progression from the “Champion Party” to Wallace’s first day on the job and so forth. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, or at least for me it really isn’t, but I did notice it, and others might walk away with a different opinion, for better or worse. Actually, perhaps one of a few things might be the culprit here: 1) My experience with your other fics being mainly one-shots, which lead my mind to default to that mindspace while reading this longer-form version of your writing, or: 2) The somewhat unexpected shift of POV to Winona in Chapter 4, taking me out of the natural flow somewhat. Again, not necessarily a bad thing, but nonetheless, perhaps this is something you’d like to look over and decide for yourself what, if anything, should be done about it.
• I just realized this after I typed up all of that main text up there, haha, but it also seems that Wallace also has a strong tendency towards self-loathing, especially whenever his past struggles come to mind. And also especially given his tendency to compare himself to other people (like Steven, for instance, whom Wallace doesn’t believe that he measures up to). I’ve seen this come up in some of your other Facadeverse stories, so it doesn’t surprise me to see it here, but it seems as if that’s just one more thing to him to deal with on top with everything else, unfortunately. And most certainly, “everything else” — especially his anxiety and how he deals with it in relation to his high expectations of himself, and what he thinks the world expects out of him, rightly or wrongly — will only risk fueling that self-loathing even further.
• Also speaking of things that I only just thought of, can I just say that the idea of using sign language to communicate with Pokémon is just an absolutely awesome and ingenious idea? I mean, it’s like one of those things that you can’t believe you didn’t think of before. Sure, I’d imagine that not every Pokémon can do that, and that some Pokémon would rather use something more practical and efficient like telepathy, but for those who can do it, it could really be a simple yet effective way to communicate at least simple thoughts, if not much more.
• I was really tickled by the format you used with Chapter 3 with all of the Elite Four showing up at different times throughout Wallace’s first day, haha. It gives us an opportunity to learn as much about them as it does Wallace, all within the scope of the latter’s POV, of course. The most interesting visits were Pheobe’s and Glacia’s, I think, for the below reasons:
  • Glacia for taking absolutely no nonsense from Wallace and going straight into mother mode in her own unique way, haha. Which also helped a lot with getting Wallace out of his comfort zone, I think, but in a “safe” and careful way (not to mention effortless, as Glacia is apparently just awesome like that) that I suspect few other people (save for perhaps Steven or Winona) would’ve been able to pull off.
  • Phoebe’s discussion of autism — while unsolicited and perhaps a bit tactless, if innocently so — got me thinking about a lot more things that I expected to. Her rather casual mention of her having the condition surprised me in that “surprised, but actually not really” kind of way. I mean, when you think about it, a lot of the trainers in the Pokémon world — and especially the Gym Leaders, Elite Four, and many of the Champions — do kind of operate on a different wavelength than the average person, don’t they? I mean, when you look at the Pokémon world in general, a lot of people’s entire worlds seem to revolve around training and battles and stuff, especially if you read some of the dialogue, haha. Now, I do dislike playing armchair psychologist when it comes to stuff like this — especially because I think that it risks reducing conditions like autism to behaviors (that is, things that can people can see are a little bit “different”), as opposed to the more invisible, internal struggles that also often come with said conditions — but it does make you wonder, right? But it does also make you think about another thing: a lot of the time, things that we would call “mental illness” or “neurodiversity” is defined just as much as how different one’s behavior or thought patterns are from the so-called “norm” just as much as it’s defined by any actual disability or struggles that come from said conditions, for better or worse. But in a world where Pokémon training is considered a legitimate and acceptable way of living to the point where even ten-year-olds can go off dedicating the rest of their childhood to it — and with some of them becoming people like Wallace and Steven and Winona who are respected and idolized — would at least some (but certainly not all) of the things that we might associate with conditions like autism be perhaps not considered as… “abnormal”, for lack of a better word, to the point of not being considered an “illness” at all? Or maybe one could argue that the world of Pokémon training might be a space that rewards a certain type of thinking (the kind that might not be so valued elsewhere). Or maybe it doesn’t… not all of time anyway. Who knows? Just my random thoughts…

 

[Welkamo]

Spoiler: Content warnings

implied sexual content, discussions of queerphobia, implied food issues, minor paranoia

Wallace woke up to the ringing of the doorbell.

He sat up with a start. Who could possibly be knocking on the door on a Saturday? Who could possibly be knocking on Wallace’s door on a Saturday? Was someone stalking him? Was—

DING-DONG!

Whoever they were, they sure were persistent.

Wallace tossed back on his pajamas as he felt Winona stir on the other side of the bed. He took a moment to glance at her and… wow, she looked so peaceful, so beautiful, so perfect, even in sleep.

“Wallace…?” she mumbled.

Wallace half-chuckled, half-sighed. He brushed Winona’s hair out of her face. It never got messy when she slept, not like Wallace’s. Just wild and free like the wind. Meanwhile, Wallace’s hair never looked right, never looked—

Right.

He wasn’t supposed to compare himself to others. His therapist told him that. Or one of them. Or all of them. He’d gone through three of them already, hadn’t he? What would they think if they saw him like this after—

DING-DONG!

Winona jumped up at the doorbell, eyes wide. She looked at Wallace with worry, and he smiled back reassuringly.

“It’s okay, darling. I’ll get the door.”

-

Katy tapped her foot on the doorstep excitedly, smiling and humming to herself. Eventually, the door opened, and sure enough, that fine young gentleman, Wallace Papadakis, was standing in front of her.

“Well hello there,” he said with a smile. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. Who might—”

“Hello there!” Katy greeted, bursting with energy. “I wanted to congratulate you on becoming Champion, but I didn’t see you at the dinner. I asked around and Kofu—bless that man’s heart—introduced me to Juan. Oh, he’s a delight! Such a wonderful person to talk to! We talked about our favourite bakeries around the city—I haven’t been to Sootopolis City in years! I’m from here, actually. Moved to Paldea as a child, but I’ve always wanted to come back! It’s such a beautiful city, isn’t it? And such wonderful food, too! In fact, I made you baklava!”

She held up the tray in her hands.

“Um…” Wallace began. “Thank… you.”

Katy beamed an even brighter smile as she gave Wallace the tray. The baklava was cut to resemble a spider web, and it smelled strongly of butter and pistachio. The tray was even tied up in a green bow. Only the best presentation for her pastries!

Wallace gave a sheepish smile.

“Thank you, miss…?”

“Katy. I’m the Cortondo Gym Leader. If you ever come to Paldea and want to stop by my Gym, or if you want to have a battle sometime this week here… Kofu and I should be sticking around Hinode for a bit to learn about the country’s foods and pastries!”

She held out her hand to shake Wallace’s, only to remember the baklava in his arms.

“Oh,” she said, and another thought came to her mind: “Tziráchi Feast Day is coming up… tomorrow, isn’t it? Do you have plans?”

“Mikuri, kore wa dare desu ka?”

A sleepy-looking woman fell against Wallace’s back. Her long, lavender hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was wearing a big t-shirt of the Orbeatles band.

Wait a minute.

“You’re married to the Fortree City Gym Leader?” Katy gasped. Oh, how wonderful! “You must be a really strong Trainer then—I’ve heard about Winona’s strength all the way back in Paldea! Oh, it would be wonderful to have a battle where I can go all out against a type my sweet little bugs have a disadvantage against.” She felt some of her joy drain away. “It’s not often they can… go all out like that…”

She shook her head, and the sad, bitter feelings went away. “Well, I’m the first Gym Leader many Trainers face, so I have to hold back so I don’t intimidate them.”

Winona’s eyes opened wide. “You… know who I am?”

“You know I’m married?!” Wallace gasped.

Katy waved her hands worriedly. “I was just… assuming, since you lived together. Well, I suppose you could be cohabitating. Which is totally okay. Lots of young people do that! Wha—”

“Legally, we’re in a marital union,” Wallace explained, “but… we haven’t had the time to make it public, or to have a formal ceremony. We’re… we’re hoping to fix that soon.”

Wallace looked back at Winona, then back to Katy. “Um… would you like some tea?”

-

Sweets were a magical thing. Just a small cookie could bring a smile to a child’s face. Just a simple cake could bring a couple together. Just the act of baking could bring a whole family together and pass down the culture of people long gone.

But Wallace seemed a bit… hesitant to explore that magic.

He stared at his plate of baklava, picking at it with his fork, but never did he give any indication that he wanted to eat it. Winona, meanwhile, seemed to love it, eating it up like a happy little bird. A bright smile appeared on her face as she did.

“It is very good,” she said. Her Sootopolitan Chrysosian was a bit shaky, like it was a precious plate she was scared of breaking. But she was trying for her beloved, and that was all that mattered.

“How long have you two known each other?” Katy asked.

“We met in college,” Wallace said, waving his fork absentmindedly. “Well… we technically met when we were seventeen and just starting out as Gym Leaders, but we only really became a ‘thing’ in college.”

“It was love at first sight,” Winona sighed dreamily. “The moment I saw Wallace, I felt my heart soar. I knew something was special about him.

Wallace chuckled, and a similar glow of warm joy appeared on his face.

“We had our first kiss,” Winona continued, “and I ran off all embarrassed. I thought I wasn’t enough for you.”

Wallace booped Winona on the nose. “But you are enough. You’re everything and then some.”

Winona glanced away, blushing and chuckling. “So are you.”

Young love, what a beautiful thing. Katy had made pastries for newlyweds throughout her career, but seeing new couples was like living through a honeymoon phase over and over again. She didn’t feel certain parts of traditional love herself—mainly sexual desires—but she felt all sorts of other types of love. Love was a beautiful thing—the love between couples, the love between family, the love between friends…

“You’re a lucky man, Wallace—”

Wallace’s smile fell. “Oh I’m not a man.”

“Oh,” Katy said, “are you a woman?”

Wallace shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Something crossed his face, a flash of shock, a flash of regret.

“I… uh… um… oh dear… I shouldn’t have… um… um…”

Then suddenly, as if he was a robot, he shut down.

He still sat up, but his head was hung, expressionless face partially covered by locks of turquoise hair. Winona wrapped an arm around him and whispered something reassuring in Hinodego, but not even that could reawaken the spark of joy in him.

Katy smiled again, a bit softer this time. The poor thing… thought it was wrong to be different? That was a horrible feeling, as Katy knew from experience.

“Well… Wallace, no matter what your gender is, that doesn’t make you any less smart, kind, or loving. And… and if you don’t have all of the answers yet, that’s okay. You’re still young. You’re still learning. I may not be transgender, but…” she sighed. “...well, I was just like you when I was your age. I was lost and didn’t know who I was, and… well, I wasn’t fortunate enough to have anyone to support me as I figured out who I was.”

She shook her head and smiled. “If there’s one thing I would tell myself, and if there’s one thing I want to tell you: find people who love you for who you are… Though, seeing Winona, I think you’ve already at least started to take that to heart.”

Wallace looked up, face stoic save for his eyes being… just a bit wider.

“You’re the first non-relative I’ve come out to that hasn’t called me a slur.”

-

Juan had a lot of good teas, but Katy’s favourite had to be the vanilla black tea. A lovely blend of sweet and bitter flavours.

Juan himself was a very polite gentleman, posture straight and tall as a redwood tree, fingers delicate, sharp, precise. Katy wasn’t a psychic or one of those aura users in Sinnoh, but she could sense that his aura was calm as a lake.

“Things haven’t progressed as far here as they have in Paldea,” Juan explained, a frown on his face. “It’s especially bad in Sootopolis. I think acceptance rates of gay marriage are around… forty percent? Compared to fifty-one percent in the rest of Hoenn.” He sighed. “It was very, very hard for Wallace growing up… and Steven and Winona don’t deserve such hate, either. They’re some of the most wonderful people in Wallace’s life.”

Those words made Katy sad. Growing up without someone to love and support you, growing up in a world that seemed to not love you… it was the most terrible thing. She had to thank the gods above that she had found Kofu, otherwise… otherwise, she didn’t know where she would be.

And Wallace couldn’t be the only person in Sootopolis City who wasn’t cisgender or heterosexual. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how many young people felt scared, lost, alone, broken…

And no one deserved to feel broken.

But then… a pretty little idea flew into Katy’s head, like a butterfly landing on a flower.

“Tomorrow is Tziráchi’s Feast Day, right?” she asked. “A day of wishes coming true…” She beamed a small smile. “I might have a bit of an unconventional wish.”

Spoiler: Translation notes

“Mikuri, kore wa dare desu ka?” - Japanese, "Mikuri, who is this?"

 

[Welkamo]

Hey Vsauce, Markiplier here.

(I’m not Markiplier please don’t sue me for identity theft.)

So uhhhhh I don’t really know how best to explain this, but basically I am not vibing with the direction of this fic—or more like, the direction is good, but the overarching and original mission of “what if Torchic!Wallace was Champion” is just not working. Part of me hates writing ATAC, but it’s not because I don’t like writing it—quite the opposite, actually. I like developing this silly little found family. I like having different characters interact (Pokémon Masters was onto something). I like worldbuilding Sootopolitan religion. I like the message that mental health isn’t a linear path, that it’s okay to learn more about yourself as time goes on, that’s it’s okay to not be 100% even after years of recovery. But this supposed to be a fic about Champion!Wallace, and that is the fundamental flaw with this fic. I would go into more about why these themes don’t work with Champion!Wallace as much as Gym Leader!Wallace, because if I do I’ll start being self deprecating to myself and these wonderful but flawed idiots I write, but it… it doesn’t work as well with Champion!Wallace and much as Gym Leader!Wallace.

I still need to plot out fic stuff without the Champion framing, including “do I want to keep the 5 year timeskip after IAM”, so I can’t say exactly when there will be a new thread, but I will be keeping this thread up for archival purposes, and making a new thread for the new iteration.

At least I chose a song with two different titles as the fic title so I don’t have to find a new one.
I would like to thank all of the people who reviewed this fic, and the people I talked to here and elsewhere who helped me come to this solution. I promise to make a story that’s really epic and good.