literature

If and When, Part 3 (Team Covenant M6)

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Team Covenant woke up in a makeshift infirmary near the center of town. "Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear," muttered what could only be described as a warm voice from overhead, and Theo shifted groggily, trying to gain a grip on his surroundings. "Oh, dear, you've got cuts and bruises all over your shell, lie still now."

The Happiny held a firm hand on Theo with surprising strength for one so small, checking his wounds. "Oh, you're lucky that they're only flesh wounds. You could have ended up like your friend over there; he won't be able to fly for weeks!"

Theo's stomach dropped. "Is he OK?" he asked, trying to get up, but the Happiny's firm grip kept him down.

"See for yourself," she said, pointing to the stretcher beside him.

Martin was lying there, staring dully to the side as his wing was wrapped in heavy bandages, by an Audino with a surgical mask. He winced occasionally, but was otherwise silent. Upon seeing that Theo was awake, he said, "Afternoon, Theodore. I trust you are alright?"

"I could ask the same to you," snorted Theo, as the nurse fussed over him. "Are you sure you'll be OK?"

"I'll manage without my wings for a while," said Martin, grunting as he shifted in his stretcher. "It's not such a big deal, anyways."

"Oh, don't say that. Flying is the most wonderful thing in the world, isn't it?" said Theo, grinning, although his eyes were downcast.

Martin laughed once. "Yes. Yes, I suppose it is. But I seem to recall you saying that you've been happy with a life on the ground, haven't you?" Martin grunted as the Audino released his wing. "Fret not, Theodore. I will be fine."

"Well, you two are all set," said the Audino, taking off her mask. "Don't move that wing too much, Spearow. It was a clean break, at least, but just make sure you don't disturb it. As for you," she said, looking at Theo. "You'll be sore in all sorts of places for about a week, but there's no lasting damage. Poppy, look after them while I go check on the others." The doctor shook her head as she left, muttering to herself. "The blizzard's been over for days and people are still getting hurt left and right..."

Poppy peered over her shoulder to watch the Audino go, and then said, quietly, "If you don't mind my asking...what happened?"

Martin and Theo exchanged glances. "Rocks fell," Theo said, bluntly.

"It is most likely for the best if you inquire somewhere else about the incident," added Martin, gently.

Poppy bit down another question, and then nodded. "Just call if you need anything. We're all within earshot." And then she, too, hurried away to tend to another patient.

"So," said Theo, looking over at Martin. "Some first day, huh?"

"Quite," said Martin, staring at the ceiling. "I do believe that we are...not quite cut out for this job."

Theo stared at Martin for several moments. "You sure? Is that what you really believe, Martin?" The Spearow said nothing. "Want to go turn in our resignation letters now? Just give up after...after a bad accident? Is that what you really want to do?"

"How do you fight fate like this? People die here, Theodore," said Martin, and his voice was at the same time both stiff and shaky. "I thought we had come here to find paradise, but instead we found..."

"Perdition?" suggested Theo.

Martin laughed. "I wouldn't go so far as to suggest that, but...we have not found paradise. That is for certain."

"Try to relax, Martin. You always get all hot and bothered when you think about things too much," said Theo, yawning turning on his side. If their little expedition had been anything, it was exhausting. "I suppose...ahh, I suppose paradise isn't really a place you can find, is it?"

There was silence for perhaps a minute before Theo began snoring loudly, while Martin mulled on his words. It didn't require massive amounts of insight on Theo's part, but its simplicity carried a kind of deep profundity.

Martin shifted for a moment, trying to rest, but he was tired of lying down. Peering around the little hospital with his keen eyes, he got off of his stretcher and tiptoed out, cradling his wing. As long as he didn't move it...well, he was only walking, after all. No harm in going for a little stroll to recuperate the nerves and get a little fresh air into his body.

The Spearow avoided eye contact as he went, although the doctors and nurses were far too busy to pay him any attention. He winced as he emerged into the bright sunlight, blinking stars from his eyes. Just how long had they spent in that dank underground cavern, anyways?

Malt was still in the center of town, directing the reconstruction efforts as feverishly as before. Martin felt a little miffed. Didn't the brave survivors of a cave-in deserve a little attention? But, no, attention could only be given to those who still needed fixing. And, in the end, the ones who hadn't made it deserved care more than the ones who did...

Walking slowly and fighting the urge to flap his wings to keep his balance, Martin continued on his little walk, talons clicking on the bare dirt. He stumbled as he tried to dodge out of the way of busy crews of workmen, hauling along great planks of wood and timber. "Do take care! I am injured!" Martin shouted indignantly, but they were too busy to hear his complaints. Hrmph.

Eyes downcast, Martin hobbled aimlessly down the little street. What good was he here? His already weak frame was crippled until the whole of Tao was rebuilt, and then he would be nothing more than a parasite, a creature feeding off of the benevolence of others instead of being the shining leader he had imagined himself to be. And what kind of leader could he be now? Not a physical one, heavens no, not with a broken wing.

"I am Martin, ye Prophet, ye Beacon," said the Spearow morosely, kicking at the ground. "He who shall call- he who shall call the charge for the common folk at the breaking of the new dawn!" It was no use. There wasn't any charging or leading in Martin's foreseeable future.

The rumbling of a passing cart shook Martin out of his stupor. He coughed, fanning away the dust with his good wing as the construction materials passed, and as the dust cleared he saw the unmistakable silhouette of the black Kecleon determinedly directing the traffic. He squinted through the dust, studying her face.

She...she had lost a good friend not long ago. Perhaps several good friends. And yet here she was, a leader, both in body and in spirit. Martin tried to imagine it, a pain greater than that he felt right now. If Theo was somehow taken away...

"What's with the sad look, kid?" asked a voice, and Martin jumped. A female Machoke towered over him, casually holding a length of metal girder on her shoulder. "Name's Mica. I'm in charge of the construction work around here, and don't tell let anyone else tell you otherwise," the Machoke said, glaring pointedly at a Gurdurr waving a roll of blueprints around angrily. "Hey, I know you! You were the one that came in after that blimp yesterday, weren't you? I don't know much about flying, but I bet that was a hard flight. What happened to that wing? It's a shame I can't get a hard worker like you on board." The Machoke spoke briskly and rapidly, as if she were listing off her observations and questions with bullet points.

Martin blinked, flummoxed. "Yes, I was, although it was a rather unfortunate incident, really, involving my fellow teammate and I and our regrettable tardiness, and as for my wing...well, that was another unfortunate incident..."

Mica laughed. "Well, that's what you get for being lazy and waking up late! A Pokémon is worth the sweat of her own brow, that's what Ma always told me, before she passed, and it's never done me wrong! Good luck with that wing, kid! Shame to see a flyer grounded like that. You could have done some real good work for us," said the Machoke, chuckling as she walked away.

The Spearow watched her go, a strange mix of feelings roiling in his gut. "Excuse me!" he cried out. Words began to tumble out of his mouth, although Martin had no idea where he was going with them. "Excuse me, madam! Do you mind explaining a matter of some importance to me?"

"Well, sure, kid, anything to turn that frown on your face upside-down. Just make it quick," said Mica, stopping. She was still holding the immense length of girder on her shoulder without breaking a sweat.

"You just recently said that your, er, your mother passed, and I, I just, er, wished to know..." The Spearow stuttered to a halt, his usual eloquence failing him.

The Machoke's expression had turned grim at the mention of her mother, but then softened. She pursed her lips, thinking hard. "Well...you can't stop for the dead, or the gone." The words echoed in Martin's head, with oddest sense of deja vu. "Oh, how do I put this...if you stop, then you might as well be dead yourself. Ma wouldn't have liked to see me in moping forever, there's no point in it. You have to pick yourself up and keep working." Mica shifted uncomfortably, suddenly showing strain under the heavy weight of metal. "Look, PK over there's got the right idea. I'm just a construction worker, I don't know how to say things like this. Go ahead and ask her."

"My greatest thanks, ma'am," said Martin. He bowed, even as his head was buzzing with his own thoughts.

"Oh, no need to be so fancy," said Mica, bending down to pat the Spearow on the head. "Glad I could help." And then she was gone. Well, not gone, she had just...left. Walked away to do her own work.

Martin looked to the black Kecleon, suddenly in a new light. A Pokémon who struggled on despite the loss of one that was close to her, a Pokémon that would become something greater with every incident that made her lesser. In Martin's mind, he saw her, a shining beacon of hope, of spirit. And he saw himself standing by her side...shining. There was no point in moping forever. It was time to pick himself up! It was time to rise! To ascend! To face the glorious new dawn with a smiling face and a full heart! It was-!

"There you are!" exclaimed the keening voice of the nurse, Poppy. Martin jumped as the Happiny grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him along the dirt path, while his dreams of glory rapidly dissolved around him, leaving a warm ember of hope burning in his heart. "Oh, I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you were gone! Don't leave the hospital without telling, especially not with a broken wing. The things that could have happened to you! You could have set your recovery back by weeks!"

"While I would like to lavish my most sincere of apologies upon you, Madam, I'm afraid I've fulfilled my quota for the week," said Martin, dryly. "If you would be ever so kind as to unleash me, I would be ever grateful! I understand that you feel bedrest would be salutary to the body, but the protracted respite has instead served to stupefy my senses! HMMPH!"

And the Spearow stormed back all the way he had come until he flopped with unerring precision into his cot. There was no need for a leader of his magnitude to be seen escorted like some infirm gaffer back to bed.

"Gah!" Theo woke up with a start, antenna flapping loosely around. "Did something happen? Martin, did you fall out of bed or something?"

"Nothing like that, Theodore," said the Spearow, gazing into the distance. Just because his wing was injured didn't mean he couldn't work, oh, no. He would find a way. There had to be a way.

"OK. OK," said Theo, the hint of a yawn already creeping back into his voice. "Hey, Martin."

"Yes, Theodore?"

"I'm really- ahhh, really tired," the Venipede said.

"So am I," the Spearow replied. "But that's no reason to lie down and give up. You have to pick yo-."

"Who said anything about giving up? I just want," said Theo, turning over and yawning loudly. "I just want a bit of a longer nap, that's all. You should rest, too, Martin. I told you, it's not worth it to get so riled up over nothing."

"Of course, Theodore, but just recently I came across a spiritual epiphany, if you will, and if you would be ever so kind as to listen to what I have to say-."

"Martin, you're always having spiritual epiphanies," said Theo, closing his eyes. "You have spiritual epiphanies every day."

"Yes, yes, alright, I concede that," said Martin, sheepishly. "But this particular one is genuine! It is of utmost, unparalleled importance!"

"I'm sure it is, Martin," sighed Theo, smacking his mandibles together sleepily. "I'm sure it's very, very important. Now go to sleep. I want to get out of this hospital soon so we can get working again. Malt's probably going to get all angry at us for screwing up on the first job...there'll probably be no need to resign, Martin, he'll just kick us out. Heh." Theo laughed at his own joke.

"Oh, no, he won't! Not when he sees how extraordinarily well we perform our second job when we get it!"

"If. If we get a second job," snorted Theo, drifting off to sleep.

"When, Theodore," said Martin, smiling. "When."
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SO MANY ANVILS. SO MANY ANVILS WERE JUST DROPPED EVERYWHERE.

Gah. I feel like I really didn't give this story the merit it was worth, but, what the hey, it's done and over and there's nothing I can do now. Apologies to all the people I requested cameos from and didn't actually write in! I couldn't find places to fit you in and didn't want to compromise anything else in this tale. :(

If and when I do this again, I'll do it better next time! (That's right, this just got META.)
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