Who helps him out...? The question threw him off. Not just because he didn't have an answer, but because it was a question he'd never thought to ask before. His knee-jerk instinct was to assert that he simply didn't need anyone's help, because that's just how Charizards work. Looking back, though... a spear ripping through his wing, a few broken ribs as he stood over a Rhydon's body in an illegal ring, a demolished classroom... none of these things really suggested that he was, in fact, doing all that well getting by without help.
He couldn't go laying that on Bulba, though, could he? He already knew that his attempts at opening up just made Bulba... oh. Uncomfortable. Was... was he being hypocritical? It hadn't even occurred to him that maybe this was supposed to be a two-way street; with so little base his understanding of being a big brother on, he'd already clued in on the obligation to be a protector, but he hadn't really stopped to consider that this was meant to be a little more symbiotic than that.
It was just as puzzling to think Bulba would claim he'd always been there; so much of his own beliefs about the debt he owed the kid revolved around the times that he hadn't been there. How could anyone think of him as safe, let alone a kid he'd hurt so much? Maybe... he was still learning how this whole brotherhood thing really worked.
Instinct still had him reluctant to touch Bulba's ears, so he settled for the closest thing. His hand shifted, thumb idly stroking just under the base of one of Bulba's ears while he mulled it over. Finally he spoke up, a little tentative, a little unsure, but not guarded: "Call me crazy, but I'm kinda startin' to think if we just stopped thinkin' of reasons to not speak up, this wouldn't be so complicated after all."
ME TOO, MAMESHIBA, ME TOO
He couldn't go laying that on Bulba, though, could he? He already knew that his attempts at opening up just made Bulba... oh. Uncomfortable. Was... was he being hypocritical? It hadn't even occurred to him that maybe this was supposed to be a two-way street; with so little base his understanding of being a big brother on, he'd already clued in on the obligation to be a protector, but he hadn't really stopped to consider that this was meant to be a little more symbiotic than that.
It was just as puzzling to think Bulba would claim he'd always been there; so much of his own beliefs about the debt he owed the kid revolved around the times that he hadn't been there. How could anyone think of him as safe, let alone a kid he'd hurt so much? Maybe... he was still learning how this whole brotherhood thing really worked.
Instinct still had him reluctant to touch Bulba's ears, so he settled for the closest thing. His hand shifted, thumb idly stroking just under the base of one of Bulba's ears while he mulled it over. Finally he spoke up, a little tentative, a little unsure, but not guarded: "Call me crazy, but I'm kinda startin' to think if we just stopped thinkin' of reasons to not speak up, this wouldn't be so complicated after all."