The month that followed settled into a relentless rhythm.
From the moment Albert was given unrestricted access, the data room became his sanctuary. He devoured books on Pokémon ecology, breeding manuals, and medical texts with unrelenting focus, his eyes flicking across pages at a speed that would have stunned any observer.
Thanks to his flawless memory and psychic discipline, each word engraved itself instantly in his mind.
At the database terminals, Albert immersed himself in raw research data: breeding experiments, habitat surveys, fossil analyses, and pharmaceutical formulas. He sorted patterns, corrected flawed theories, and drafted notes of his own, all while sitting cross-legged in silent concentration.
At times, he slipped into meditation, replacing sleep with the psychic calm that sharpened his mind and expanded his power.
Every day brought him closer to his upcoming elementary exams for researcher, breeder, and doctor—and he intended to walk into them with absolute certainty of victory.
Yet Albert was rarely alone.
Steven often came to sit nearby, sometimes with a fossil sample in his hand, sometimes just watching quietly as Albert scribbled. He didn't interrupt—at least, not often—but his presence was steady, like a stone beside a rushing river.
Occasionally, he would ask small questions: "What are you reading today?" or "Why that formula instead of the other?" And Albert, though never one for idle chatter, found himself answering.
Little by little, their silences became shared.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
One evening, after Albert had spent nearly twelve straight hours buried in research notes, Joseph approached him directly.
"Albert," Joseph said, his tone practical but warm, "there's no sense in you shuttling between the orphanage and Devon. It's inefficient. Live here. With us."
Albert paused, his pen hovering above his notebook. "Live here?"
Joseph nodded. "You'll be closer to the facilities, to your studies. And Steven—" his gaze softened toward his son, "—would benefit from your company as much as you from his."
Albert turned, amethyst eyes narrowing slightly as though testing the offer for hidden motives. But Steven met his gaze earnestly. "It would be… nice, Albert. To have you here. Not just in the laboratories or the data room, but at dinner. In the house. With us."
For a long moment, Albert said nothing. Then, slowly, he set his pen down.
"If this will allow me more time to study and prepare for the exams," he said evenly, "then I will accept."
Joseph smiled faintly, recognizing the careful phrasing. But the subtle flush on Albert's cheeks, as well as the emotions hidden behind those amethyst eyes, told him the boy understood there was more to the invitation than convenience—and had accepted it all the same.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The weeks passed quickly.
Albert's life fell into a seamless pattern: research in the mornings, supervised lab access in the afternoons, study and meditation at night.
Meals were now taken with the Stones, where Steven often tried to draw him into conversations about fossils, minerals, or Devon's history.
Albert answered sparingly, but never unkindly—and slowly, the walls between them thinned.
He told himself this was simply a matter of efficiency, of practicality. But somewhere in the quiet evenings at the Stone dining table, Albert began to feel something he had long thought out of reach.
Belonging.
He began to feel a sense of belonging to a family who seemed to readily welcome him into their own home…and lives.
Albert can't help but feel lucky about the kind people present in his life.
Finally...after five years of feeling estranged from the world, he finally had a place he could call...home.