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(no subject)

Who: Char, Marie, Vinnie
What: A log full of punchings
Where: An unused classroom
When: Friday, March 23
Warnings: Violence and vomit.

Marie was a marked man. ...Boy. Manbaby. Okay, last week hadn't been kind to Char, but that was no reason to let his threats be empty ones. That little tit had messed with Bulba, and as long as Char's around, you don't mess with Bulba. Simple as that.

Classes had let out for the day. There hadn't been much hope of cornering Marie during class hours, and getting the kid on his own after the school day was done with had proven tricky, considering how Marie hadn't exactly been seeking Char out. This was gonna hafta be the best time to get it done -- that narrow little window of opportunity between Marie being safely in class and over in Sonny and Vinnie's dorm. He had his back against the door of a classroom that had been empty and unused for a while now, keeping a close eye on the crowd of departing students for any sign of his intended victim.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yeah, this was real super touching. Char probably would have shed a single tear at this moving display of heroic selfless brotherhood if he weren't devoting all his concentration to not passing out in his own vomitsplatters. Vinnie's scornful look went entirely unnoticed; Char's eyes were on the floor as he put his weight onto a desk, struggling to get himself upright and just stay upright.

Now that the fight was over, the furious blue radiance of Blaze was starting to subside, leaving only lightheaded nausea, horrible gnawing pain in the pit of his stomach, and vague irritation in Vinnie's general direction. He didn't regret messing Marie up, and he was oddly apathetic about the brawl with Vinnie -- this Superman act was the only part that really bugged him, and that was primarily because it was really incredibly stupid, as far as he was concerned.

"Infirmary carries Full Restores these days, martyr boy," Char pointed out. Okay. Upright and standing. Room: only sorta kinda spinning. Dignified exit: probably possible. He kept a hand over his mouth in hopes of keeping the heaves at bay, though all that really accomplished was getting blood all over his hand. With his tail limp against the ground (and leaving a very silly-looking trail of blackened floor in his wake) and his free hand against the wall for support, Char stumbled out of the classroom, determined to make his way over to Green's dorm before the poison took him out.

(He made it about a quarter of the way before he collapsed in an undignified pile.)

Dragging his drooping ass out of the room had left the classroom of one 207 very vacant, save for the new inhabitants Mr. Pool of Blood and his good friend Sir Vomit Pile. They very pleasantly greeted Bulba as he appeared in the doorway, who looked entirely shocked and appalled to see them. Well, he was expecting the vomit pile. The pool of blood shouldn't have been there.

Bulba swallowed hard, sparing a moment to scan the rest of the room and catch his breath. The only moment he had spared between receiving the text and bolting in this direction was spent on retrieving one of the antidotes he had kept within easy reach since the Venusaur's previous heads up. The Hyper Potion wasn't a Full Restore, but it'd have to do at short notice. At least he hoped it would. He couldn't tell whose blood was whose or what had... Bulba hit the door frame with the palm of his hand, pushing himself away from the room. There was nothing else there for him. The last thing he needed was the tell tale signs of a burn trail heading down the hall.

Char where had you gone.

It did not take very long for a well-bodied and anxious Ivysaur to catch up with the heap of a dragon. Bulba sucked in a breath, rushing over to kneel next to him. He gently brushed his hand over Char's hair, trying to get a good look at him. Oh, good, vomit... everywhere... There was definitely a lot of frowning going on here.

"Char?" Bulba didn't wait for a response, not really expecting one at this point, already reaching for the antidote to apply it. Spritz spritz. "Geez..." And now the potion.

Yeah, a response was just gonna hafta wait until the antidote kicked in. The potion was a definite help, too. With the effects of the poison ebbing, consciousness came trickling back in. Blearily, he opened his eyes, lifted his head, and... oh. Dry heaved again. His stomach had nothing more to offer up, at least, so this round basically only amounted to vaguely-blood-tinted drool and spatters of that weird oily stuff.

Oh god. Okay. He... actually felt a lot better after that. The worst of it was over, huh? It took another second of shaking that Toxic-induced fuzziness off to realize exactly why it was over. Oh. Hey, Bulba. ...Wow, this is really like the least cool meeting possible. Char forced himself to sit up, dragging the already-bloodied back of his hand over his mouth and just kinda... making an even worse mess. SUPER UNCOOL.

"...Vinnie told you, didn't he." Not a question. It was a little too convenient for Bulba to just so happen to decide to head back into the school's empty halls with an Antidote and HP restoratives.

Bulba stayed besides him, trying to lightly rub Char's back as he let out the last of his heaves. Taking care of a poison victim was remarkably like taking care of a drunk person at the moment, but with far more alarming symptoms such as bloody drool. With each rasp he made a minute flinch. It sounded awful.

He finally moved back a little as Char sat up. Well. This was definitely going to be a thing. The bundle of his nerves just got that much tighter. Messes on top of messes. He didn't know how to clean those up.

Bulba watched him for a moment, then slowly nodded his head. There really wasn't any point in trying to say otherwise. "He did. You were poisoned, room 207."

"He didn't hafta do that." ...What a fuck. What, Vinnie went into this fight thinking Char was gonna need a nurse? Just expecting that of course he'd be the one winning? Or was he just hoping Bulba'd get some kinda guilt out of seeing this kind of outcome? If he knew Bulba so goddamn well, he must have known how quick the kid was to put everything on his own shoulders. This was nothing the kid needed to lay eyes on.

Potions or no, Char really didn't have the energy in him to get all worked up. Toxic was the deadliest brand of poison a Pokemon could produce, and with the extra kick Venoshock had given it, it'd done more of a number on Char's insides than he was prepared to admit. At least with the vomiting out of the way, the outside didn't look too bad -- he'd probably be sporting some bruising around the throat and his face certainly wasn't at its prettiest, but that at least didn't look all that serious.

"This ain't nothin'. Just gotta sleep it off, and I'll be fine. I got a feelin' Marie's gonna be mindin' his manners around you from now on, and that's what counts."

"What's fair is fair, I guess. I let him know when I puked on his brother, makes sense that he'd return the favor when he did the same." It never crossed the Ivysaur's mind that it would be anything about winning or losing more than it would be common courtesy regarding poisonous stomach contents. Bulba shrugged a little, still just a little wary of this open discussion about talking to Vinnie.

He was keeping a careful eye on Char. Bulba didn't know Vinnie had Venoshock, but he did know about Toxic and it still squicked him out rather thoroughly. He knew what it had the potential to do, and he could still feel he need to fret over Char's well being even after he had personally administered an antidote. So even though he nodded at the dragon's reassurance, Bulba wasn't entirely convinced. It wasn't just the poison that was on his mind either. This whole thing was just... Bulba's mouth creased into a slight frown.

Then there was Marie. Even if he thought it wasn't worth the trouble, Bulba hadn't given Char's threat against the turtle too much concern. At the time it had seemed pretty commonplace, actually. It was one thing to say you wouldn't fight when you weren't face to face with one. He had been pretty sure that wouldn't have lasted, and that Marie would have at least held his own. Bulba thought he was a pansy tit but they weren't rivals for nothing. And yet the most liquid in the room seemed to have been blood. It made him uneasy.

"What the heck did you do to warrant the warzone in there anyway?" Honest curiosity speaking.

"Remember years back, when Slash was part of my moveset?" That pretty much painted a picture in and of itself. Even if his moveset had done some changing, he still had claws and used them even more naturally than he used his fists. "That was most of the mess, anyway." He announced it completely casually, apparently entirely oblivious to the possibility of having gone too far. Charizards tended not to have a concept of holding back as far as fighting went, and they'd butted heads with Red's Team enough for Char to know that, despite all his shit-talking about Marie's timidness, the guy wasn't a helpless little babby.

"He didn't do much more'n hiccup a little water at me, though. Most of the shit that got busted up in there happened after Vinnie showed." Honestly, he knew Marie had seen that bet he'd made with Sasha -- Char had expected that Marie would have put up a much bigger struggle for her sake, at least. Overestimating the kid, maybe? Hell if he knew.

Not a mystery he really gave enough of a shit about to speculate over, anyway. Not in the middle of the hallway next to a puddle of his own drool, anyway. (And his tail, limp and flat against the floor, was starting to melt a hole in the linoleum.) Still, the question was how smoothly he could handle relocating. The immediate danger might have passed, but that unpleasant jelly-legged feeling was still lingering -- nobody feels perfectly stable after hurling up everything they had in them. The restoratives had helped, but Char was very sure he wanted to appear as seamlessly recovered as possible. Green had explained what had happened that week that Bulba had been someone other than Bulba, after all; just one more reason why Char was not exactly thrilled Vinnie had sent Bulba his way.

Well that explained a whole lot. Bulba visibly cringed a little at the thought with a quiet groan. He was quite aware of the fact that the concept of going too far for the Charizard only kicked in when the physical boundaries slammed in, and even then there was the chance that Char would try to keep going. Bulba was admittedly a little surprise that it had gone to that point, but he knew he probably shouldn't have been. It was no wonder the room had ended up like it did once Vinnie got on the scene.

The feel bads that Bulba was inevitably experiencing were greatly diminished by the fact that the fight didn't make sense by virtue of not being a fight at all. "That's really weird," Bulba blurted in evidence of his confusion. Marie hadn't hesitated (too much) to throw a punch at the guy with the type advantage. Sure, Char was in a totally different league from Bulba when it came to regular scuffles, but he should have done something more productive than a hiccup. Bulba didn't get it.

But he'd leave it at that. The only reason he really cared at this point was because of someone else. That someone wasn't there. There were far more important things to care about, and they were all sitting besides him in the hallway. Brothers outranked a lot of people and things, and Bulba had already been extra worried about him that week. This really hadn't been necesarry.

Bulba lingered close to Char, looking like he really wanted to offer him a hand up but he was biting his tongue. He didn't have a fleet of Pokemon Center Chanseys to back him up this time. But maybe he could actually do that much. It was just what happened when Char made it to his feet that had the potential to be a problem. Ugh, geez. Bulba got to his feet, holding his hand out towards the other. He was going to be highly persistent about this, in case you were unable to guess otherwise.

Oh.

That hand was getting a very long look. The last time that Char had leaned on Bulba for support had been just shy of two years ago, back when he'd first woken up from his evolution rampage. It was a memory that carried a lot of bitter things with it -- things he was not especially eager to relive. Especially not with recent circumstances being what they were; there was already a very conspicuous absent space where his pride had once been, and comprimising his self-reliance even further was a less-than-appealing thought.

Besides... he was the big brother, wasn't he? He was the one meant to be doing the supporting. It was a responsibility he'd been able to reconcile with his asocial wiring, but some parts admittedly came much easier than others -- seeking comfort or help, sadly, not exactly being the easy part. "Kid, I don't need..." Char started, but trailed off. Not the time for that, and he really wasn't in any position to be playing the tough guy, anyway.

He let out a slow, quiet exhale, eyes on the floor, and took the hand offered to him.

The hand that closed supportively around Char's was bigger than the one that had tried to hold his two years ago. It was a lot easier to help Char to his feet this time, being so much closer to him in size. The emotional weight of it, however, remained much the same. He knew Char hated it, and that this wasn't anything he would have wanted. It was all Bulba could do though. He didn't know how else to repay the support that had been given to him if it was always shrugged off. It was a heavy feeling, and despite all his efforts, Bulba still wasn't sure he truly understood it.

Bulba silently helped him up, mindful of any stumbling that could happen. He held Char's hand for a moment longer than he probably should have, looking at it. This time he would let it go. On his own two feet, the dragon could choose to do as he pleased- but if he needed it, the Ivysaur would be there. Bulba glanced up at him, trying to convey that, but he wasn't sure how well that worked.

"Is this okay...?"

"Is it?" Char asked in response. Those lines in the sand weren't his to draw, were they?

His hand found its way back to the wall, just as a temporary crutch until he felt a little more sure of his balance. It was a little surprising that Bulba had been able to help him up so easily; every part of him felt like it'd been replaced with lead at some point. Still, he was on his own two feet again -- and he still had all the reason in the world to try an inspire confidence that he could shrug a Toxic off easily. Char straightened up, dragging a hand through his hair. This definitely wasn't going to be the last time he got the Toxic-Venoshock treatment from Vinnie, so might as well get used to it.

Bulba didn't know how to answer that. Truth be told, he wasn't even very sure what part of this whole thing he had been asking about. He shrugged for lacking anything else, glancing down the hallway as Char found his bearings.

He turned his thoughts away from the question he wasn't sure about, settling in to reassure himself of the thing he did know was okay. Char would be fine. He was fine already. The only reason he wouldn't have been was if things had gone slightly different and he was still in his puddle of drool. That hadn't happened. He was on his feet. Bulba took a breath. Maybe he had been a little more concerned than he thought.

His hands hovered around his pockets nervously, not sure what to do with them. "I guess it'll have to be," he said, looking back over at him.

It took a moment for him to remember to lift his tail off the floor -- not curled as high as it usually was, but it'd been like that for days now. There was a hierarchy to keep in mind, after all. The wing nearest Bulba flexed indecisively, caught between what obligation seemed to be asking of him and what that ingrained sense of independence demanded of him. In the end, Bulba remained untouched, and Char started walking, assuming the kid would follow suit.

"Y'don't look too happy about it."

Char should have known that a fight wasn't really what Bulba wanted -- Char was quite sure that Red's team had made the transition from "rivals" to "buddies" for him, or had at least started down that road. If Marie hadn't been such an insufferable tit, Bulba probably would have liked him too. Maybe this was no different from the shit he usually pulled: a meaningless brawl, with panicked little Bulba offering apologies in his stead and gathering up armfuls of potions for his instigating brother. Maybe it was just unease on Char's behalf, that old fear of Toxic rumbling around in this back of his mind. Maybe he was disappointed that Vinnie had been dragged into it? ...Maybe the better thing to do would have been to surrender once the Venusaur showed up.

The Ivysaur fell into a slow stride at Char's side, turning his eyes towards the floor.

"It's not sitting well," he admitted.

The whole thing was just... it made Bulba's stomach churn some. He hadn't thought as much about the fight as he possibly should have, but in the end that was probably because he had assumed that's just what it would be. A fight. They were probably never going to be anything Bulba actually wanted on his behalf, but he guessed it was tolerable. There was nothing too terribly out of the ordinary about Char prompting a fight.

Providing it was actually a fight. That had been some sort of one-sided something or another. It was bothering him quite a bit. He couldn't fathom how things had come to that. There was just something fundamentally wrong with it that was leaving an awful taste in Bulba's mouth. It was right up there with the droop of Char's tail and the carefullness of his step.

"Something feels wrong."

Shoulda seen it coming.

Char fell silent, stare fixated on the floor in front of him. Where'd he gone wrong? Making the offer in the first place? No objections had come up. He'd announced his intent as bluntly as he could -- Marie had refused and Vinnie had made threats of his own, but this was exactly the same song and dance that went down whenever Char dangled the prospect of a fight over them. With Sasha cheering her little brother on so eagerly, it was hard to say that was the point where it had gone off the rails. So... the act itself? Had... Bulba maybe expected Char to lose against the water-type? He could only make wild stabs as to where exactly the problem lay this time around.

Wherever it was the misstep had occurred, the result was obvious enough: same result as always. He'd tried doing something for the kid's sake, and all it did was hurt him. A sick feeling was creeping back into the pit of Char's stomach. For a moment, he almost wanted to believe it was just the Toxic poisoning. A knot of anxious words seemed to tangle themselves up in his throat -- should he be apologizing? Was it worth it to explain that he'd just wanted to protect his little brother, in his own clumsy too-fiery way? Promise that this time, the lesson had been learned, and he'd leave this kind of thing in more capable hands?

"It wasn't your fault, kid. You didn't force anybody to do anything they hadn't already chosen to do." Making excuses was an exercise in pointlessness -- the important part was damage control. Make one quick attempt to try to pull some of the weight off the kid's shoulders -- and just one, lest he burn Bulba all over again.

Bulba let out a slow exhale, running one of his still hesitant hands through his hair. "Yeah, I know. You're right." And it seemed like he was. Bulba just hadn't expected it to go the way it had been laid out. No, he'd never want the Squirtle to win, but he didn't want pools of blood either. Nor did he want a brother chockfull of toxins, even if this was something that happened to some extent more than once prior to this.

Despite what he said, he wasn't really sure he could believe it. But that was something to be shelved for another time. It could get pulled down and analyzed whenever he had placed himself behind closed doors. He'd just resolve to try and get in contact with the other party later, for better or for worse. For now he would have to try and believe that maybe things were actually okay. Maybe this was just another case of Bulba having the dumbs.

He desperately wished that had any possibility of being true.

"... Sorry I'm such a worry wart all the time." Like right now, while he was glancing over to see how the dragon was faring with the trek down the hallway.

"Be however the hell you wanna be, kid. I don't care. Just... try to be happy once in a while, alright?"

Empty words: he knew saying them wouldn't change anything. Stupid, how utterly bad he was at biting back the impulse to try and make something better. He just... really didn't know what to do with the kid anymore.

Might as well be pragmatic, runt. If every time you get close to the kid you bring a deluge of misery onto him, then isn't the closeness the problem here? It was nothing that he hadn't been suspecting for a while now, anyway: this desperate little make-believe game Char was playing? It wasn't helping Bulba. He just plain can't do it. Already had a mark sitting on his shoulder proclaiming that much: intention is worthless if you're not good enough to follow through.

And when were you gonna bring that up to the kid, anyway? Certainly not now. He's crushed enough without the extra burden of feeling like he's forced to martyr his friendship with Max too.

So, for the second time that afternoon, Char chose surrender. He scratched uncomfortably at his shoulder, eyes dropping off to the side. "Look, kid, I really am okay now. I know you're probably worried about those two. You don't gotta walk me all the way back."

Try to be happy once in a while.

Bulba tried to take that one in stride. Happiness was a funny thing to be self-conscious about. How often had something like that been said to him now? He was going to lose count if it kept up. It shouldn't have been an issue worth a passing thought on. It shouldn't have been anything that needed commented on in the first place. People just wanted him to happy.

It was harder to smile when you were aware of how much the people you loved hurt and you didn't know how to fix it, even if you were smiling for them.

He wanted to smile for Char, but now the dragon was confusing him. The Ivysaur's pace slowed slightly and he was looking at the ginger very intently now. This was weird. This was weird and Bulba didn't like it. It was almost as if...

While it was true that he was in fact pretty worried about the other two, this exchange right here was worrying him even more at the moment. ....Was he being dismissed? A very small seed of panic planted itself in his gut, but it was far too soon for it to flourish into anything. He wouldn't let it. Not that one. That one could stay deeply buried and rot away with all the old thoughts like it. That was done.

"No, I want to," he said a little quickly. It was all he could think to say. "At least let me do that."

There were times when Char came close to being afraid of Bulba, and this was probably one of them. He felt oddly... cornered. Char was more than aware of what this hastiness in Bulba's words meant -- his sharp-tongued Charmeleon years had given him more than enough experience with that. What kind of sick, twisted catch-22 was this? Try to make up for that kind of shit, you hurt the kid. Try to back off and leave it to people who know what they're doing, and you're just falling back on the original flavour of emotional harm. He'd slowly been coming to realize that maybe he just wasn't capable of being a brother, but did it run so deeply that the only choices he had really just boiled down to how to fuck the kid up the least?

Char backed up a pace, hands up placatingly. "Kid, no, relax. It ain't the Charmeleon bullshit. I still like you. I just... I really am fine, okay? I'm goin' back to my dorm, and I'm probably just gonna sleep. It's gonna be boring as fuck. That's all it is."

What. Oh. The Charmeleon call out caught Bulba completely off guard, and he realized just how easy it was to slip back into being a nervous, little Bulbasaur that wasn't quite sure what to do with his brother. Some things were harder to change, apparently. Bulba kind of hated that. Just one more evidence of how much he was still a dumb kid.

"... I know," he mumbled as he awkwardly ruffled his hand through the back of his shorter hair. As much as he might have worried he really did know that this wasn't an issue of not being liked by the Charizard. Everything that had happened to cause this conversation in the first place wouldn't have even happened if he didn't, right?

His hand lingered at the base of his neck and he gave a short sigh. "Okay, okay, you win." Bulba wouldn't sit in or around your room in an awkwardly worried fashion. One small victory (?) for Char. "I'm going back to my room though, so..." So that victory (???) was not as complete as Char would have liked (?!). He was stuck with a motherhenning Ivysaur for a while longer.

Hooray for... vic...tories...?

How was it even possible to be this awkward around somebody you'd been spending time with every day for like ten freakin' years? This was stupid and it sucked and he hated it. Wasn't this kind of thing supposed to be easy? All Bulba wanted back in the Bulbasaur years was someone who was willing to let him in. Be all... huggy and open and stuff. All Char wanted now was to compensate for the avalanche of mistakes he'd buried his little brother under. If that meant taking Vinnie's long-ago dad-lecture advice and shoving away his own nature, if that meant trying to be a Venusaur, fine. He was ready and willing to do that. Almost desperate to let Bulba in.

And yet, the mistakes just kept piling up and piling up with every attempt he made at this. Maybe this wasn't something you got infinite chances at. Maybe the reason he kept on making things worse was because he'd already blown his chance the minute he sent that first email to Aiden. That would explain why every single option just seemed to pile onto Bulba's suffering -- even this! Was he supposed to call this the good outcome? Bulba just seemed mildly uncomfortable instead of beside himself with distress, at least. Did... did he maybe need a hug or something? Was that a thing that'd help?

Again, Char's wings gave an uncertain twitch, "arms" tempted to do what his real arms were too tense to do, but in the end, they still did nothing. Just folded tighter against his back. N... no. That wasn't gonna be of much help. The atmosphere was already awkward, Char smelled like blood and puke and Toxic fumes, and his temperature was probably uncomfortably warm after the desperate adrenaline kick of Blaze activating. "Well. Okay." Char offered by way of reply. His almost-shy scratching shifting down to his hand, subconsciously flaking off the blood that had dried there.

"...I won't do it again," he added. That much, at least, should be safe to say. Right?

Show and Tell had never, ever been a thing that Green Team was very good at in any capacity.

Showing was always something that Bulba had learned was kind of embarrassing at best and that no one on the team was all too fond of it. It was only somewhat recently that he'd been able to start being as physically comfortable as he wanted to be with even Green, and that was probably only because the trainer had mellowed out some. As far as he was aware, the wall that Char had put up in regards to things like that was still standing strong. Sometimes Bulba had been able to sneak past it, but he knew it had always been with a certain amount of awkwardness for the Charizard. The unspoken mandates about what was and wasn't acceptable were ground in pretty far. When a touch was how Bulba naturally felt like conveying something, it was hard.

Telling was something that all of them were miserable at. None of them were very good about talking about their feelings, even now. Rhys was the only one that was ever pretty okay at it.

Between one or the other, it was remarkable that they had even got this far. But when it came down to situations like right here and now, it left Bulba at a complete loss of what he should do. The answer of how to express the feelings caught up in his chest eluded him. He didn't know how to put them into words properly when they were so conflicted with each other, and he still didn't think he was allowed to pass the boundaries set up by small half-touches.

... Then again, maybe he just didn't care anymore.

Yeah. Maybe he didn't.

Bulba took a step closer to him, boldly nuzzling his face against Char's shoulder. It still looked pretty weird in people terms, but whatever. And yeah, Char kind of smelled extremely gross, but what else was an Ivysaur for? Now he was going to smell like blood and puke and Toxic fumes and the pleasant aroma of flowers. Awesome.

"Listen," he murmured against the clothe of Char's sleeve, turning his head slightly to be heard better. "I don't... I don't like how things ended up." Obviously not. Not that he really knew at this point just how bad things had gotten, but he could at least say that he hated the sinking feeling in his gut when he thought about the state the room was in. He hated seeing how Char had ended up.

"... I don't think it was really worth the trouble." He didn't want to see anyone he cared about getting hurt on his behalf, even if that hadn't been exactly what they were aiming for. He didn't want anyone he cared about getting hurt because of him either. What a mess.

"You really didn't have to but... I can still appreciate why." At least he thought he could. All of his feelings regarding this whole thing were a mess and he didn't really know what to do about it.

Yeah. He really hadn't made it easy on the kid. Touch still wasn't a thing that came so easily to him; even if Char had been predisposed to seek out contact like Bulba, the mark of Aiden's neglect wasn't washed off so easily. For almost half his lifespan, physcal contact had only been a thing that happened when you were fighting somebody off. It'd taken a decade and a brush with death for Char to progress beyond the split-second shy touches with Green, and that was with somebody who was completely attuned to his way of thinking.

Bulba was a whole different kettle of fish. He meant well, yes, but that anxious desire to somehow just make the kid happy could be just as much of a hinderance -- the more Char second-guessed his actions, the more his guard went up. Never quite knowing exactly what it was that the kid needed of him, never being certain when his attempts to reach out would just burn the Ivysaur yet again... it was easy to start thinking that any sort of proximity might end up hurting him. Even now, when Bulba was making it perfectly clear what it was he wanted from Char, there was the split-second of hesitation. Like he was faced with something so fragile that he wasn't entirely sure his rough blood-splattered hands could even take hold of it without breaking it.

It was, however, only that: a split second. Even if the smarter part of him whispered of the risks of setting Bulba off once again, even if the aloof Charizard part resisted this kind of sentimental stuff, the big brother part of him couldn't keep from trying one more time. He wasn't quite sure if Bulba's words were comforting or had him even more uneasy about what he'd done, so he said nothing in response. Instead, those nervous hands ceased their scratching, and pulled the Ivysaur in for a hug. It wasn't really anything special, as far as hugs went: the gesture was awkward and unnatural at best. Char hadn't given anyone a hug -- a proper one -- since... well, probably since his Charmander days, and he couldn't quite shake off the idea that he needed to treat with the utmost caution -- like anything beyond a feather-light touch would shatter Bulba like glass. Still, imperfect though it may have been, the gesture was there nonetheless.

Not anything special, his foot. A tiny part of Bulba's mind shattered slightly in that moment.

If anything, Bulba had been expecting a brush off as they continued down the hall. Maybe a nod. This was not the begrudging touch in return, if he had actually been lucky enough for any, that Bulba would have been used to. This wasn't the barely there caress of a wing, or the hesitant pat on the head. Even though the Ivysaur knew exactly what this was he could hardly dare to process that it was happening at first.

His mouth hung open for a moment, the surprised syllable of Char's name hanging there before he swallowed it back, opting to stay silent. It was awkward at best, as far as hugs went. The sharp scents of blood and feverish sweat were more apparent, and the uncomfortable warmth emanating from Char's body was harder to ignore with his arms around the grass type. It was as if they weren't quite sure where exactly they were supposed to go or do. Bulba figured this was probably true. He had a hard time picturing Char hugging anyone, Nyx included.

It was very easily one of the best hugs Bulba had ever received.

For the briefest moment after the surprise wore off, he was almost afraid to reciprocate, as if Char would back off the moment Bulba acknowledged it as something real. It didn't last for long. Bulba wasn't going to miss this chance. He wrapped his arms back around the dragon with confidence. It was firm, but gentle, mindful of the hurt that had been inflicted on his brother just a short time ago. Bulba nestled his head against Char's shoulder for the moment (?) this would last, and everything smelled like flowers.

It was okay. He wasn't made of glass. He wouldn't break from something as wonderful as this.

Oh. A step in the right direction at last. Char still felt unbearably gross, the act of contact still sat a little unnaturally with him, and the smell of flowers, though fundamentally different from the overwelming perfume of Vinnie's earlier Overgrow, was still similar enough to make his stomach do a weird little squirm. He couldn't say with any degree of certainty just how much this would change anything, or if Bulba's smiles would still be scarce in the days ahead... but still, the fact that he'd somehow stumbled his way into offering Bulba a little comfort was enough to lift a heavy weight off his shoulders.

He... wasn't entirely sure how much was enough. Then again... that wasn't a decision for him to make, was it? So Char simply stayed put, keeping his brother in his arms until Bulba decided he'd had his fill of slighly-too-warm dragon embraces.

"God, leave it to us to take something friggin' simple and turn it all complicated, huh?" It was frustrating, just how often things seemed to never quite fall into alignment, how they just seemed to be stuck taking turns being miserable, how every faltering step forward had immediately been buried under three backward steps for four whole years. It was hard to keep swimming upstream this long; bonds like this weren't natural for a Charizard to begin with, and when his track record was so studded with failure, there was a nagging sense of futility to the whole thing.

It was so alarmingly impossible for him to even tell if what he was doing was a mistake or not. He'd never known a father, his short time with his own siblings wasn't much more than a handful of faint, scattered memories, and he tended to simply shuffle all his teammates into basic categories: Little Brother, Girlfriend, and Competition. It wasn't really a void he'd ever felt, but times like this, it came a little close -- maybe this would have been easier if he'd had someone to show him what "okay" was supposed to look like. He was ready for it, so ready -- the lying, the secrets, the clearly-drawn line in the sand keeping him safe and separate and alone had long since grown too exhausting to keep up. But the problem always seemed to be the same: intention alone was meaningless. At a loss, entirely unable to make sense of where he was going or if he was even moving at all, the old pattern of hurt just kept creeping back into everything time after time.

If it'd just been him getting stung, it wouldn't have mattered. That's what being a fire-type was about, after all: drawing on your own strength, and yours alone. If he had nobody to turn to, then that was because all the answers he needed were within him, and it was just a matter of stumbling through until he found them. When every single misstep seemed to make a once-jolly Pokemon lose a little more of his brightness, though, that was another story entirely. Another layer of complication on what was, at its core, still something remarkably simple.

suddenly, otherbroters

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I THOUGHT YOU WENT TO BED

I DID

OH. ....GOOD.

YES...

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