Edmund woke up to the sensation of breath on his face.
Only, it wasn't breath.
It was cold. Misty. Slightly damp.
And accompanied by two wide, glowing eyes less than six inches from his own.
"GAH—!"
He screamed and flailed, nearly launching himself off the bed. His blanket flew up like a parachute, his back screamed in protest, and he smacked his shoulder against the headboard as he flung himself in a random direction in panic.
"WHAT THE ACTUAL—?!"
Gastly floated backward lazily, cackling like someone had just told the best joke of its afterlife.
"GASTLY!"
Edmund clutched his chest, then his shoulder, then his face in turn as panic, pain, and confusion all hit him in rapid succession. "WHAT—HOW—You're in my room?! My room?! How the hell did you get here?!"
Gastly spun slowly in the air, completely unconcerned with his existential spiral.
"I left you in the woods!" Edmund hissed, eyes darting to the door like his parents might bust in any second. "You—you followed me all the way back?! Across town?! Did you sneak in?!"
"Gass~" the ghost chimed, doing a little loop-de-loop like it was showing off.
Edmund blinked hard. "That's not an answer!"
Gastly responded by floating upside down and sticking its tongue out like a child.
"Oh, great," Edmund muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "There's a ghost in my room." A ghost in the room of a house that particularly didn't like ghosts. The few times the 'incident' that got him hospitalized was brought up, his parents very visibly showed disgust towards the mention of ghosts.
He sat back on the bed, wincing as his shoulder flared up again—right, that was still a thing. The bandages were still holding, but the potion he'd used yesterday hadn't been a miracle fix. A good third of the bottle was gone, and the wound still pulsed with a low, angry ache beneath the gauze.
He'd managed to sneak in late yesterday afternoon without anyone catching him limping. Staying out all day wasn't weird for him—especially lately. His parents didn't ask questions, not when 'Edmund being Edmund' usually meant long runs, longer silences, and coming back late in the evening or close to night.
But now there was a literal ghost messing up his bedroom.
And Edmund was realizing, rapidly, that he had zero control over the situation.
"Hey! Hey—no—stop touching that!"
Gastly had drifted over to one of his shelves and was using its misty body to knock down a row of old books and trinkets.
"Those are important! That's—ugh—NO, not the flashlight! I need that!" Edmund's eyes widened as he saw the flashlight kept in his secret stash out and about, hovering in the air due to the Gastly.
A metal clatter hit the floor. Gastly whooped with laughter, spinning in triumphant loops. Footsteps. Edmund swiftly grabbed anything incriminating that Gastly started throwing around, and flung it under his bed to the back corner.
Edmund froze as the footsteps stopped.
Then—knock knock knock.
"Edmund?" his mother's voice, sharp with concern. "Are you alright in there? I heard a crash."
"Shit—" he whispered, whipping around to face Gastly, who hovered with all the guilt of a toddler caught stealing candy.
"Under. The. Blanket. Now."
Gastly gave him a single blink—then melted into the folds of his bed like a puff of fog. The blanket puffed up unnaturally.
The door creaked open before Edmund could even reply.
His mother stood there, arms crossed, robe tied tight, brow raised.
"I didn't hear you say I could come in," she said flatly.
Edmund sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, heart racing, body shielding the very-obvious ghost-shaped lump in the center of his blanket.
"Y-Yeah. Sorry. Just... startled. Slipped. Knocked some stuff over."
"Uh huh." His mom wasn't buying it. "You must have slipped…..several times."
Her eyes swept the room, taking in the mess. The crooked shelf. The lumpy blanket.
Her gaze landed back on him.
"...I'm clumsy."
"Right." His mom said dryly. "You should be more careful."
"I will be." Edmund nodded enthusiastically.
His mother raised an eyebrow as he gaze made its way towards the very obvious lump on the bed. "And what's that?" She pointed out without a flicker of emotion on her face.
Edmund, already halfway to losing his mind, blurted out the first thing he could think of.
"Porn," he said.
There was a beat of absolute, horrifying silence.
Elizabeth Harrington blinked once. Slowly. "....porn."
Edmund cleared his throat. "Under the blanket. That's what's under there.." Edmund didn't realize he had any shame in his life left at this point, but to his surprise, he felt himself flushing, but pushed through it. "....you're welcome to check."
Another pause as he intentionally made it even more awkward.
Then she sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and said, "Don't keep your porn in the open. Use a drawer."
She turned and walked out without another word.
Edmund sat there, stunned.
Partly because of what happened, partly because he couldn't believe that actually worked.
The blanket shifted. A muffled snort came from beneath it.
"Shut up," Edmund muttered.
Gastly's cackling began anew.
@***@
Downstairs, Elizabeth Harrington poured herself a second cup of tea.
Alistair raised an eyebrow over his newspaper. "What was the noise?"
"Edmund's hiding a Pokémon in his room," she said, calmly, barely a flicker of emotion on her face as she delivered the news.
He blinked. "Did he now?"
She sipped her tea. "Under his blanket."
Alistair chuckled, low and amused. "And what excuse did he come up with?"
"Porn," she replied, taking another slow sip. "He invited me to check."
That actually made him laugh—really laugh. Not the polite, business kind, but a short, genuine bark of amusement.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and gave him a playful swat on the arm. "I very well couldn't call his bluff at that point."
Alistair, patriarch of the family snorted again, but didn't dare laugh as his wife huffed indignantly. "What did you respond with?"
"I did tell him not to keep it out in the open," she muttered.
Still grinning, Alistair set the paper down. "Technically, having a Pokémon before your license is a bit of a violation. We could get fined."
Well, that was mostly true. Before obtaining a Trainer's License, you weren't technically allowed to own a Pokemon, but there were plenty of ways around that. A 'family' Pokemon that you just happened to bond with and take on your journey, who could argue against that? Of course, there were plenty of other 'methods' to skirt the rules, as it were.
However, the League also is a bit heavy handed with fines when it does come out as to try and warn people overall.
"We already spent a significant amount of our savings on getting him that evaluation with Professor Oak. At this point, what's a little bit more?" Elizabeth replied. "And….he looked happy."
He nodded once, the humor fading into something softer. Alistair nodded again, slower this time. "Then it's worth it."
Elizabeth smiled faintly.
They went back to sipping their tea, pretending—very convincingly—that they knew absolutely nothing.
@***@
Edmund slung his backpack over his shoulder, a piece of toast in his mouth as he flew out the door. His older brother had already gone to work, his parents also disappeared, his father to work most likely, and his mom doing whatever it is that she does with her side hustle.
Nearly ran into his brother on his way out.
Benjamin just smiled, having no intention to stop him, merely giving him a quick pat on the shoulder. However, Edmund winced and Benjamin's eyes narrowed as Edmund barely got a few feet away.
"Oi, hold up."
Benjamin's voice came from just behind him and Edmund nearly froze in place.
He flinched again, not from pain this time, glancing over his shoulder.
Benjamin was standing there with a mug of coffee in one hand and his usual easy-going expression—except his eyes were a little too sharp this morning.
Edmund turned halfway. "Hey."
"You heading out?"
"Morning, yeah, I was gong to hang out in the city today, do some research. You know, my Journey is in a few days, wanted to note down some stuff just in case." Edmund said quickly.
Benjamin's gaze swept over him once, then landed squarely on his shoulder.
"Uh huh. Come here."
Edmund didn't move.
"Ed. Come here."
That voice wasn't quite teasing anymore.
Sighing, Edmund stepped off the front porch as Benjamin set his mug down on the railing and moved to meet him. Once they were a few paces away from the house, Benjamin stopped, crossed his arms, and nodded at the shoulder.
"Show me."
Edmund kept his expression calm. "Show what?"
"Show me."
"Benjamin—"
His brother didn't budge, but put a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed.
Edmund couldn't help but let out a curse and nearly fall over.
Benjamin looked at him, not showing any remorse. "Wanna say that again?"
"It's fine, I'm fine. It was just….an accident." he muttered.
Benjamin just stood there, waiting.
Eventually, with a sigh, pulled his shirt to the side, knowing that there wasn't any real chance of getting out of this.
Benjamin leaned in to get a better look.
The wound was still raw around the edges, angry and pink, but clean. The bandages had done their job, and the potion—while clearly not designed for humans—had staved off the worst of it.
Benjamin exhaled through his nose. "Potion?"
"Yeah."
"Not bad in a pinch," he said, tone even. "They're meant for Pokémon, sure, but they work well enough on people if you're desperate."
"I cleaned it. Patched it up," Edmund said defensively.
Benjamin gave a small nod of approval. "You did good. Should heal okay. Though, it'll probably scar."
Edmund didn't say anything.
Benjamin didn't press.
He crouched a little to eye the wound one more time, then gently pressing it to make sure it wasn't bleeding. Maybe just a bit more stongly than he should, but Edmund didn't call him out on it. He could see his brother's glare at hiding it initially hadn't disappeared.
"Still hurts?"
"A bit."
"You should hit the PokéCenter if it gets worse," Benjamin said. "They treat trainers too—even the ones who haven't officially started yet. Hospitals are slower. PokéCenters know what to look for with this kind of thing."
There was a pause.
Edmund shifted. "You're not gonna tell Mom and Dad?"
Benjamin shook his head. "Nah. Not unless you end up bleeding out at the dinner table."
An awkward beat of silence passed.
"It was a Beedrill, wasn't it?"
Edmund stiffened.
Benjamin's expression didn't change. "Yeah, I thought so."
He smiled faintly. "You're not the first Harrington to get your ass kicked by a bug." He let out a small sigh. "You know that Beedrills are one of the top ten injuries for new trainers here, right?"
Edmund raised an eyebrow.
"I caught one right to the ass during my first week out," Benjamin said cheerfully. "Didn't sit right for three days. Told Mom some bullshit that it was a training accident. Don't think she believed me, but she didn't press either. It's pretty normal, you know? You get the freedom that comes with being a Trainer, mom and dad aren't going to baby you, it's part of the whole….Journey. You become an adult."
Despite himself, Edmund huffed a small laugh.
Benjamin grinned. "So. You gonna tell me what you were doing in Beedrill territory without a Pokémon?"
Edmund muttered something.
Benjamin cocked his head. "What was that?"
"I was just exploring" Edmund said grudgingly. "I didn't mean to go near a bunch of Beedrill."
Benjamin studied him for a moment, but didn't look angry. Just thoughtful.
"Well, you're alive. That's what counts."
He stepped back and pulled out a Pokéball.
"Come on. You're coming with me."
"What?"
"I'm heading to the office today. You're tagging along."
Before Edmund could protest, Benjamin pressed the Pokéball's button and tossed it into the air.
With a crackle of light and a rush of displaced air, a massive Pidgeot appeared in the driveway, wings fanning out to stretch fully.
Edmund staggered back a step.
It was... huge. It wasn't the first time he had seen it, even after his own arrival, but he couldn't help but have the same thought every time.
Bigger than he'd ever seen in the games, or even in passing around town. Not like an Alpha, but it was definitely one of the biggest he'd ever heard of.
And it wasn't just the size.
There was a weight to the bird. A presence. He could feel its strength, the kind of aura that came from experience, not just raw power.
And it was staring at him.
Not with curiosity.
With disapproval.
Its sharp eyes locked onto Edmund's, feathers slightly ruffled.
Edmund felt the judgment radiating off it.
It didn't hiss or peck. It wasn't like his mother's Meowth who truly hated him, it was a sort of reserved discontent. Though, Edmund noted that it didn't show much else, probably for Benjamin's sake.
Benjamin just gave the bird a few pats along the neck. "Arrow, you're taking two today, alright?" The Pidegot fluttered happily and just nodded.
"Big," Edmund said stupidly.
"Yeah. And strong. Stronger than most Pidgeot I've seen. He evolved early, too—some Pokémon just grow fast when they've got a reason to."
Benjamin swung a leg over and gestured for Edmund to follow.
He hesitated, but climbed up behind him, careful not to jostle his shoulder too hard.
Edmund groaned, clutching his shoulder. "So, you're not going to tell on me?" He was worried that what he actually got up to may come out. He hadn't checked any news or heard about the Pokemart guy yet, but he didn't want to draw any attention to himself.
Benjamin laughed. "Relax. I'm not gonna rat you out."
He paused. "Just don't go back in there alone, yeah? Especially without a Pokémon. Beedrill territory's no joke. Even catching one's not worth it unless you find a stray. The hives? Suicide mission."
"Yeah," Edmund said softly. "I figured that out."
Edmund glanced down, specifically to his shadow. No one else noticed the two eyes very briefly glance back at him before delving back inside.
The Pidgeot took off with a lurch, carrying them smoothly into the sky.
And for a moment, despite everything—the aching shoulder, the lies, the mess—Edmund let himself breathe.
He smiled brightly.
He was flying through the air on the back of a Pokemon.
For Benjamin's Pidgeot, it was easily able to handle the rougher winds that had picked up recently.
"Since you were being an idiot, you get to spend the day with me so I can give you some tips and tricks for your journey!" Benjamin had to raise his voice a bit to reach him. "And now that you can't run away, I'm going to tell you all the reasons you were being stupid."
Edmund just groaned.
@***@
"—and then," Benjamin shouted over the wind, "you decide, hey, what's the best thing I can do with no Pokémon, no support, and no plan? That's right! Let's go skipping into Beedrill territory!"
"I didn't skip!" Edmund shouted back.
"Could've fooled me!"
The wind buffeted around them, but Pidgeot—Arrow, Edmund reminded himself—cut through it like a blade. The ride was smoother than he expected for something with so many moving parts. Benjamin sat confidently at the front, relaxed but alert, while Edmund clung to the bird's back, shoulders tight, trying not to lean too hard on his sore arm.
"You're lucky you didn't get stung in the face!" Benjamin continued, undeterred. "Or worse—those things don't miss twice!"
"Yeah, yeah!" Edmund groaned. "I get it!"
"You sure? 'Cause I can keep going."
Edmund grumbled something that got lost in the wind.
Benjamin grinned like a smug older sibling given the perfect opportunity to gloat. "Consider this your punishment. Lecture at altitude."
Despite himself, Edmund let out a short laugh.
The wind howled past them for another few minutes before Benjamin finally pointed downward. "There she is."
Edmund leaned to look—and blinked.
Vermilion City sprawled out beneath them, a mix of modern precision and coastal grit. Rows of low, colorful buildings stretched between neatly planned streets, interspersed with electric lines, neon signage, and the unmistakable glint of solar panels. The city pulsed with activity even this early in the morning—cyclists weaving through a tiny bit of traffic, Pokémon vendors calling out their wares, electric taxis zipping between intersections with quiet hums.
To the west, the land met the water in a grand, sweeping harbor. Ferries bobbed in and out of the port while fishing trawlers moved sluggishly across the horizon. A few large ships sat anchored farther out, with distant cranes slowly unloading their cargo.
And nestled right at the heart of it all were the docks—and Benjamin's company.
The Harrington Marine Logistics building wasn't flashy, but it was formidable. Three long warehouse structures ran parallel to the harbor, painted a clean navy blue with the company's crest—a stylized Lapras carrying a crate—emblazoned across each side. Attached to the central warehouse was a tall office structure with wide windows and a wraparound deck facing the sea. Painted signs and docking permits lined the front, and small teams of workers bustled in and out, loading and unloading from trucks, organizing crates, managing the flow of goods.
As Arrow descended, the sound of city bustle and dock chatter grew louder. Someone spotted the bird and gave a two-fingered whistle.
"Boss incoming!"
By the time the Pidgeot's talons touched down on a cleared landing area near the main warehouse, a small crowd had gathered.
"Morning, Benjamin!"
"You're late!"
"Coffee machine's still broken!"
"You bringing in new recruits now?"
Laughter echoed from a few of them.
They were a mixed bunch—some looked like they belonged on the wrong end of a shipping crate brawl, all bulked muscle and worn vests; others wore slacks and crisp button-downs, clipboard in hand and stylus tucked behind their ears.
But all of them—all of them—greeted Benjamin with a kind of casual warmth that Edmund wasn't used to seeing. A few clapped his shoulder as he dismounted; one guy with tattoos running up his forearms gave him a friendly head-nod and a muttered, "Nice landing."
Benjamin tossed the guy a grin. "Good to see you, Marlo. Still scaring off new hires?"
"Only the weak ones."
"Atta boy."
Edmund swung his leg over and slid off Arrow's back as the giant bird gave a huff of relief and folded its wings. He stepped aside just in time to avoid being swatted by a loose feather the size of his forearm.
The ground felt weirdly still after flying.
Benjamin motioned toward the main office. "Come on, let's get you inside before someone thinks I actually put you on payroll."
As they walked, Edmund glanced around again, taking it all in. The scent of salt and oil filled the air, mingling with the cry of Wingull and the hum of machinery. Forklifts beeped as they navigated pallets stacked high with cargo, and somewhere off to the left, someone shouted something in a language Edmund didn't recognize over the sound of crashing crates.
He watched curiously as his brother navigated everything expertly. He wasn't used to seeing his brother like this, not some punk rocker, but handling business and keeping things running smoothly.
It certainly still carried his casual attitude, but Edmund still felt the jarring contradiction.
Benjamin led him up a short stairwell into the glass-paneled office overlooking the piers. Inside, a receptionist gave Benjamin a small salute with her stylus, then blinked as her gaze flicked to Edmund.
Benjamin offered no explanation, just waved as he passed by. "We're in early. Don't worry about him."
She smirked and returned to her work.
As they entered a side conference room and dropped their things, Benjamin gestured to the window.
"Welcome to work."
Edmund stepped closer to the glass.
Boats pulled in.
Boats pulled out.
Crates moved like clockwork.
People barked orders and laughed and swore.
He watched silently out the windows as his brother did a bit of work.
After a few brief check-ins over his terminal—mostly short barks of approval, minor corrections, and a note to replace yet another water pump—he led Edmund back out through the warehouses and toward the edge of the docks.
"C'mon. I wanna show you something."
They passed row after row of ships and small vessels, most of them bobbing in the water or held up on hydraulic lifts for repairs. A few workers nodded as they passed, and one even gave Edmund a short wave—he hesitantly waved back.
Near the end of one of the larger piers, a man stood with a large ring of keys and a clipboard in hand. He was older, maybe late fifties, with a thick beard gone mostly gray and arms like tree trunks. His cap bore the company insignia, sweat-stained and sun-bleached from use.
"Captain Reece," Benjamin called, lifting a hand.
The man looked up, squinted at them, then grunted. "Figured it was you. No one else walks around here like they own the ocean."
Benjamin laughed and clapped him on the back. "You know me. Got the keys to the new rig?"
The man pulled a ring from his belt and tossed it over without fanfare.
"Don't scratch the paint," he muttered, then turned back to his clipboard like the conversation was already over.
Benjamin didn't seem to mind. "That's Reece," he said, handing Edmund a key. "Don't let the grunts fool you—guy's been through every storm the League's documented in the last twenty years. Trusts the sea more than people. Likes his boats more than either."
They reached a sleeker vessel tied to a personal dock platform just beyond the commercial staging area. It wasn't massive, but it was clearly top of the line—sharp, clean lines, gleaming hull, and an enclosed control deck with reinforced glass.
"Looks expensive," Edmund muttered.
"It is," Benjamin said with a shrug. "But it's meant to survive anything short of a Tentacruel gang war."
He pulled the ropes free and hopped aboard, offering a hand to Edmund, who stepped on with only minor hesitation.
"Thought we'd give her a test run," Benjamin added casually. "Stretch her legs."
Edmund blinked. "Wait, you're just gonna take a brand new boat out like that? Just the two of us? It seems too big for that."
Benjamin grinned. "Well, technically not just the two of us."
He pulled another Pokéball from his belt and tossed it into the air.
With a flash of light and a sudden, soothing hum, the water beside the boat erupted—and from it rose a majestic Lapras, blue skin gleaming, shell casting ripples across the harbor. She let out a melodic call that resonated deep in Edmund's chest, like the ocean itself was singing.
"Meet Sapphire," Benjamin said, tone softer now. "She's the reason I can pull stunts like this."
Lapras swam alongside the boat, keeping pace as the vessel idled away from the dock.
"They don't get attacked much," Benjamin continued. "Even by aggressive water-types. Something about their presence. Their song, maybe. It calms things down. I've sailed straight through a pod of Gyarados on her back once. Not a single one so much as blinked at us."
Edmund asked incredulously. "Gyarados?"
As someone who woke up here not long again, even if he ignored all the memories he had of the him that lived in this world before, it was rather clear that Gyarados were one of the scariest things you can find in the water.
"Big ones," Benjamin said. "If we'd been in a normal boat, they'd have shredded us. But Lapras? They respect her. The ocean does, too."
Sapphire gave another gentle cry that carried with it a sort of peacefulness that Edmund felt easing any discomfort he was feeling.
"So yeah," Benjamin added with a small smirk, "normally I assign at least three people to every vessel that leaves the dock. Safety regulations, insurance, crew balance—whole lotta paperwork. But when it's just a quick run and I've got Sapphire with me... I can cheat a little."
He moved to the wheel and started powering up the engines.
"Besides," he said, glancing over his shoulder, "I figured I'd get a little time with my little brother before he runs off on his journey and forgets to call."
Edmund rolled his eyes but didn't argue.
The boat pulled smoothly away from the dock, Sapphire gliding just ahead, her hum echoing through the water like the start of a lullaby.
He sat back and let the salty ocean air hit his face.
In his shadow, a pair of eyes appeared again.
Edmund saw himself smiling down at Gastly that tagged along silently.
It was nice.
@***@
A/N
A couple more chapters before Professor Oak and him starting his Journey proper. Just building up things around him for now.