selenicdistance (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
selenicdistance) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fan_flashworks2016-05-01 11:27 am
selenicdistance) wrote in fan_flashworks2016-05-01 11:27 am
Entry tags:
Win or Lose: Pokemon: Fanfic: Pyrrhic
Title: Pyrrhic
Fandom: Pokemon
Rating: G
Length: 259
Content Notes: N/A
Author Notes: N/A
Summary: Sometimes, the badge isn't worth it.
- - - - - - - - - -
Her father’s apology sounds sincere but feels like an accusation. There’s no hint of the latter in his voice or in the set of his face. When she tries to pin down why, precisely, she feels so accused, she fails to find anything he’s said or done since the unlucky blow to justify the feeling. In the end, she decides that some part of her wants to be told that it was her fault, that she is to blame. There’s a part of her that needs to be held accountable before it can heal.
Norman takes her to the Center and asks if she wants him to take care of the Linoone for her. For a moment, she thinks he’s trying to treat her like a child again. She wants to pull the Balance Badge from where it’s nestled in her pocket -- she hasn’t been able to bring herself to pin it to the side of her bag just yet -- and hold it out in mute response: I can handle myself. Then she remembers the obvious. He’s a gym leader, and a member of her team was just killed in a challenge match at his gym. Of course he’d ask.
It’s what she would do.
She goes into the Center alone. Explaining to the desk attendant is hard, but not as hard as it had been to thank her father for his offer before she parted ways with him at the door. She tries not to think about how it probably ought to have been the other way around.
Fandom: Pokemon
Rating: G
Length: 259
Content Notes: N/A
Author Notes: N/A
Summary: Sometimes, the badge isn't worth it.
- - - - - - - - - -
Her father’s apology sounds sincere but feels like an accusation. There’s no hint of the latter in his voice or in the set of his face. When she tries to pin down why, precisely, she feels so accused, she fails to find anything he’s said or done since the unlucky blow to justify the feeling. In the end, she decides that some part of her wants to be told that it was her fault, that she is to blame. There’s a part of her that needs to be held accountable before it can heal.
Norman takes her to the Center and asks if she wants him to take care of the Linoone for her. For a moment, she thinks he’s trying to treat her like a child again. She wants to pull the Balance Badge from where it’s nestled in her pocket -- she hasn’t been able to bring herself to pin it to the side of her bag just yet -- and hold it out in mute response: I can handle myself. Then she remembers the obvious. He’s a gym leader, and a member of her team was just killed in a challenge match at his gym. Of course he’d ask.
It’s what she would do.
She goes into the Center alone. Explaining to the desk attendant is hard, but not as hard as it had been to thank her father for his offer before she parted ways with him at the door. She tries not to think about how it probably ought to have been the other way around.
no subject
I have never seen a version of Norman that I liked. >.>