Zero BPM

"The moment is fleeting, my heart is steady. The moment is fleeting, my heart is steady." Annabelle hummed the words to herself as she entered the containment lab. It'd taken some time to don her protective gear, but with every bit of skin concealed, she was ready to examine their recent success. Her chest pounded, overflowing excitement threatening to overwhelm her self control. They'd been at this project for so long. To think, she might finally be able to look herself in the mirror and tell herself that they'd succeeded. That her growing crow's feet were worth it, that the stress lines around her mouth meant something.

"The moment is fleeting, my heart is steady." She wouldn't let that get to her now. Best to present as calm and confident to her crew. Better to not get too worked up, too happy. Too anything.

While it was a self-controlling measure, it was also done in the name of self-defense. They'd succeeded imbuing Dark energy into a sharp hand-sized shard of obsidian. It'd largely shocked the team when it succeeded, as they assumed failure would be the default - after all the failures having come before it. But now...

The airlock hissed, doors opening to the few members of her team on the other side. She'd ordered non-essential employees out, earlier, due to some readings of instability. Her most trusted employees remained. Vermillion - 'Millie' as everyone knew her - manned the monitoring console. Thom was prepping the containment chamber, the safety coordinator's emergency medical kit strapped to his thigh. And Renata sat beside the stone, visually examining it while waiting for her boss to arrive from the viewing platform above.

"Hey team, what've we got?" Annabelle called out, startling Millie who'd been too intently staring at the readouts that Annabelle's stalwart voice drew a yelp out of her. While Mille was built like a brick wall, it didn't stop her from being one of the jumpiest on the team. Not much of the woman could be made out under the clean-suits. Her clear plastic goggles showed brown eyes and deep chocolate skin, but her signature braids sheltered under the smooth lump of white cloth covering her head.

"R-readings look mostly stable, chief." Mille shook off the surprise, getting back to business. "Reading some molecular decohesion in the very core of the stone, but not enough to drive me to worry too hard. Weirdest thing is-" She tapped the screen, squinting at one of the numbers. "It's cold. Really cold. Readings showing it at negative fifty C."

That was strange. None of their other attempts, save for a rather explosive one with a fire stone, had lead to that much of a temperature fluctuation. "Ambient's still at five, I'm keeping an eye." Millie held up her hand to give Annabelle a pat on the shoulder. She was the most touchy-feely of the crew. Her hand hesitated just long enough for Annabelle to give her a solemn nod. The head scientist walked away, leaving Millie to drop her hand back to the console.

Waves of cool air radiated off the crystal. Goosebumps formed on Annabelle's skin in her approach, even under her own clean suit. Renata wheeled her chair out of the way to give the chief scientist better access. "Hey boss." Renata's husky voice too helped to steady her nerves. She'd gotten the job a few years earlier as a molecular engineer, Annabelle couldn't imagine anyone more qualified for the lab. The bespectacled woman was also clad in safety gear, her wheelchair for the lab specially designed to remain local in the clean room.

Annabelle gave her a smile and leaned in. "I'm in awe, Belle. I can't believe we've gotten one this stable." Renata gingerly set a hand on Annabelle's back, otherwise saying nothing. For her, Annabelle didn't mind. Both their focuses were upon the stone, perched in its manufactured cradle. Their next step would be to move it to the containment device, a box specifically calibrated to keep its intense energy in, as well as negate any environmental anomalies.

They both stared in silence for a long while, as though commenting further on the success would jinx it. The pure black glass of the stone had gained an icy rime, condensing any moisture in the room onto its surface. "How're we coming on the box, Thom?" Renata wheeled off after what felt like an hour, though it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Annabelle remained, breath fogging her goggles in the cold air.

To think, after all their attempts, they could finally have the real deal. Excitement fluttered in Annabelle's chest once again, unable to be contained. They'd be able to secure more funding, build out the lab. It was a dream come true, especially for the growing ambitions of an eager scientist. She'd been at this one project for going on ten years.

As though a reflection of her enthusiasm, a small red glow sparked into life at the very center of the stone. "Oh, fascinating." Annabelle stared in rapt awe. Perhaps it responded to emotional states? It shouldn't do so for humans, were they on the verge of an accidental breakthrough? The glow grew. There was that fringe theory that humans were just an evolutionary branch of pokemon, ones which somehow lost most of their ability to access type energy. Could those quacks have been onto something? Crimson bathed her face, diffused by the condensation on her goggles. Hm. Maybe that was bad. As an afterthought, she called out to her team. "Millie, we're getting a strange red glow, what are readings showing?"

"Er, boss, I think you should step back!" Millie called back. "We're getting temperature anomalies. Ambient temperature dropping while internal temperature rises. What the-? Endothermic?" The light pulsed, inviting. Annabelle stayed rooted where she was. "Boss!" Mille repeated, stepping forward. "Instability levels are cascading, Ren, Thom, do something!"

The chief scientist didn't hear them. The edges of her vision had receded, darkening just as one would before fainting. But Annabelle didn't feel weak. She felt strong, capable. She reached toward the stone.

"Get down!" Millie called once more. Ren, Thom, and Millie all sheltered behind their respective consoles, Ren even throwing herself out of her chair to better duck. Annabelle wasn't so lucky.

The stone exploded.

Sharp fragments of obsidian shot forth from the crystal, as though seeking out a target. They tore through Annabelle's fabric shield. She didn't have time to yell, the pain immediate and omni-present. When the spears shredded her lungs, she didn't even have time to scream.

A high-pitched whine summoned Annabelle back to consciousness. Constant, even, like a siren song with one note. Her thoughts were foggy, fleeting postulations about what had happened slipping in and out of her grasp. She had been looking at the crystal, staring at it. It glowed. And then she was here. Did she touch it? She couldn't remember.

The idea of touch reminded her of her body, specifically her hands. Hot spears of pain lanced down from her palms to her elbow. It was burning, liquid pain. The kind that followed a traumatic injury, that seeped from a central point to permeate every membrane of one's body. So too her chest stung, like a zangoose had used fury swipes on her ten-times over. She laid still, hoping to minimize the pain - at least until she could comprehend more of the world.

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

"What do we do?" Three blurry figures stood at the edge of her vision. She couldn't quite make them out without her glasses, but silhouettes spoke volumes. They were huddled around each other, speaking in hushed tones.

"She...she...I should have pulled her away, I should have-" The seated shadow sobbed, her usually stalwart voice frail.

"Ren, no. Don't think that way. You would have-" The tallest shadow kneeled down, taking Renata into her arms, who began to cry harder. "You survived. That's what matters."

Annabelle tried to speak, tried to call out, but it was as though she had no air in her lungs. She could only drop her mouth open to begin the arduous process of breath. Everything felt difficult, distant. Bright lights from above made her head spin. The cold fluorescence driving its own pin into her brain. Ugh, she'd need the world's greatest painkillers to recover from this.

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

"We need to notify someone, we need to call it in." Thom, for that's who the last shadow must have been, had crossed his arms. It sounded like he didn't want to say it. It was strange. Was one of them hurt too? All of Annabelle's thoughts remained detached, muddled.

"Please, just a little more time, then they'll take her away and I can't do...can't do..." Renata's voice broke apart into sobbing once more.

eeeeeeeee

Renata's shaky sobs mixed with the droning desperate tone of the alarm. Maybe her eardrums had been injured. Would that cause the tinnitus piercing her skull? The coolness of air on her chest helped, at least. Strange, they must have ripped open the suit.

One-by-one, Annabelle's thoughts slowly fell into order. The fog receded, spurred on by her friend and colleagues' worry. And no matter what, she needed that damn screech silenced. It was silly of her, of all of them, to be so upset. They should have just called paramedics, brought her to the hospital. She was hurt, but fine... right?

"Rrrhhhn..." Finally, the scientist mustered up the strength to call out. Well, more to gasp out, to moan in a way that let someone know she was there, that she existed. Her first attempt was barely more than a wheeze, not audible above the continuous tone of the alarm. She forced air into her lungs, and tried again. "Ghhhr..." A little better. It took conscious effort to pull air into her lungs, using her diaphragm to pull it in like a bellows. She must have been breathing shallowly before.

With a few more blinks her vision cleared, everything coming into greater focus. Her three coworkers, her three friends looked over at her with expressions of pure astonishment. Like someone had woken the dead. All three still wore their suits, but Millie and Thom seemed to have removed the masks enclosing their heads. It gave her a perfect view of their shock.

"A-Annabelle?" Millie offered.

"Ghh, alarm. Someone...shut off this damn alarm..." Annabelle growled the words through dry lips. The piercing noise hurt nearly as much as the pain in her hand. Hot liquid dripped off her wrist as she lifted it. It pattered to the floor, and once she'd seen it, she understood why.

Black glittering fragments splintered a constellation among flesh. Glittering knives of shattered obsidian. The largest spike was about an inch across, but all of them had worked together to shred her flesh. Blood seeped around the multitudinous wounds. Well that explained the pain. The rock must have exploded. Not so stable, hmm? She chuckled. Her left was in better shape, still seeping blood but only from a few cuts.

"Annabelle? Annabelle!" Her research team rushed forward, like the chuckle broke a spell. Millie and Thom fell to their knees, looking her over. Renata followed close behind, a reluctance to the way she rolled.

"Why is my chest so cold, which of you wanted to feel me up?" Her voice came as though through a filter. To her own ears, it carried meaning, just as English had. But it was multi-layered, and below her perception a rattling whine was just as present as her words. Thom still looked troubled, glancing at a device off to his side. He opened up the suit covering her chest more, probing around to determine if something was off. His hands came away sticky with blood, just starting to coagulate. But the pain in her chest was receding. She was breathing of her own accord, perhaps it'd been superficial wounds?

In a rush of misplaced confidence, Annabelle sat up. She cradled her right arm in her left, doing her best to not exacerbate the injury. From this position, she could make out the two sticky pads matting her naked torso. One just below her left shoulder, the other on her right flank. Defib pads? Arceus, I'm glad those wor- She followed the leads back to the defibrillator, the same device that Thom scanned in alarm. The constant piercing tone accompanied a line on the device. Flat. Even. Lifeless.

0 bpm

The number kept flashing, taunting her. Renata noticed it too, wheeling herself backwards. That was about when things stopped making sense. The blood that had been dripping onto the floor was no longer making it there. Each drip fell and evaporated into a faint red mist, boiling in room temperature. They weren't the only thing falling from her hand. Little tinks accompanied shards of obsidian seemingly working their way out on their own, like her hand simply pushed them out. The blood on her chest began evaporating in much the same way, revealing smooth uninjured skin.

"Millie, Thom. Step away. Get back from it." Renata's voice was steely, urgent.

It?

Millie spun to face Renata. "It? Isn't that the person you were just so drastically worried about?" Thom grabbed her arm.

"Something's wrong Millie. Best to do what Renata told us." His gravelly voice accompanied his finger pointing at the device, its flat line a mocking inaccuracy scaring both her coworkers away.

Their spirits flipped on a dime, both stepping back.

0 bpm

But she was alive, she was conscious. "This is absurd, why are you all acting like this?" But even Annabelle was shaken. How was her heart not beating? Sitting up further, she shook her arm out. A further cascade of shards followed, the last one tumbling from her hand to land scattered among fragments beside her. The pain was already receding, pins and needles taking its place. But someone must have put the defibrillator on her wrong, obviously. A low, frustrated growl filled the air. The tone mocked her, and she would no longer stand for it.

"Shut up!" She brought her left fist down on the device. It made everyone in the room jump. The device fell to pieces, one slam enough to break the thing to bits. But at least there was silence. Blessed silence. Now to her friends. She was feeling better. Fine, in fact. Her pain had all but melted away, her thoughts cleared. Hell, her vision sharpened, negating the need to search for lost glasses.

"I'm fine, why the hell can't you see that I'm fine?" She could hear it now, something off in the way she talked. Her words came in growls, in yips. Somehow they carried meaning, even without words. But the rest of her crew was in the dark. Millie fumbled at the surface beside her, grabbing a stapler off her desk and brandishing it, as though to ward off a demon. Her defense of Annabelle became a stalwart defense of the others in the room. She put her body between Annabelle and the other scientists.

Even with her blood no longer flowing from open cuts, mist filled the room. Soft red mist, originating from her. "Get back!" Millie menaced.

Annabelle looked down. Her arms were sublimating. In their place was pale grey-white fur. Her body just wisped away. It started at her hands. Three-fingered claws, a dark grey, replaced the primate grip of a human. White fur replaced flesh. The mist rippled up her arms, gaining speed. Her fur texture was broken up by bright red ovals, spaced intermittently. Like gems embedded in her very flesh.

"Wait. No...No no no..." Annabelle growled out. She thrust herself backward, attempting to get away from her own body. One of her new claws caught the leads off the defibrillator pads, ripping them from her chest in a single movement. They too tore away at the illusion, revealing that same white fur, those same red gems.

Millie's hand shook, watching the pitiful creature before her. Annabelle must look like a fool to them. Weak, panicked, traumatized. She was stronger than this, she would be stronger than this! Gasping sobs tore free from her throat, she just had to pull herself together. She needed to put her walls back up. She needed to be normal!

Renata wheeled forward. She said something to Millie and Thom, something that made Millie's shoulders sag, that made her put down the stapler. Annabelle panicked through it, swiping her hands at the mist, trying to return her human skin to where it was. Trying to go back to how she was so they could talk this through like rational adults.

The sudden presence of Ren's wheelchair in front of her froze her. She looked up at her friend. Tears stained both of their cheeks, though Annabelle felt hers evaporating off the skin of her still-human face. With a shiver, she pulled off her goggles and mask, tossing them aside. Her face was harrowed, aged by witnessing the death of someone dear to her. Her thumb at both her cheeks wiped away tears. "Shh. It's okay, calm down." The wavering voice wasn't exactly calm. The woman reeked of panic.

"Calm DOWN?" Annabelle sprung to her feet, surprisingly nimble. It only dispelled more of the illusion of humanity. Her whole body was changing. It didn't even hurt, if anything it felt like nothing. A magician's trick revealing the pokemon underneath her flesh that had been there the whole time.

"I think it's a Hisuian zoroark...somehow." Millie leaned over to Thom, whispering at a volume Annabelle easily heard. She growled. "That she's a Hisuian zoroark?" That was better. Zoroark, zoroark... She knew that species, though the specific variant she was less familiar with. Standing on wobbly feet - paws now - Annabelle tried her best to dredge up any trivia she could.

Cold. Found in the mountains. That would explain the stone freezing the air around it. Illusionists, able to look like anyone, anything... But the thing that was different about Hisuian zoroarks...

They were ghosts.

It explained the lack of heartbeat, the conscious effort needed to breathe, the terror with which her colleagues viewed her. How long had she been dead? Well...how long had she been unconsciously dead? Only a few minutes would have been enough for irreversible brain damage but - if she'd become a pokemon...

The change made its way up her neck, over her face. Even the air in front of her face boiled away, like something had been hiding under it. That something happened to be a muzzle, long and pointed, white and taking up the underside of her vision. She blinked, and something changed with her eyes. She staggered, and a huge mane of fur cascaded down her head, neck, and back. The edges of it wisped away, slightly ethereal.

Annabelle panted, a sense of completion coming over her. No one else had made efforts to move. Renata reached up to her head, slowly, pulling down the hood. It revealed the rest of her face, her dark freckled skin, her close-cropped hair. Annabelle and Renata had been closer than most coworkers. Suddenly Renata's mourning existed in a limbo, unsure what exactly to do in order to square the fact someone had returned from the dead.

Possibly her friend. Annabelle still felt like herself, more or less. "Renata, it's me, listen." She growled out, trying to find the actual word-sounds under the noises. Ren just shook her head.

"It looks like you're trying to speak to me, 'belle. I don't understand you. I don't..." Annabelle rolled her eyes.

"Well then get me a damn piece of paper and a pencil. Wait." Zoroarks, both types, were masters of illusion. Able to disguise themselves so well some even lived among humans, speaking to them with human voices. Could she do that? A strange well of energy had become present in her mind, as though a lake she could tap for power. Dipping but the barest hint of a claw in, she tried speaking again. It felt clearer this time.

"Ren, please. It's me. It's just Annabelle. It's Belle." Her speaking took a few tries, fragments of words forming within the pokemon speech until the look of recognition lit up Renata's face.

"Belle?" The simple hope in that question made Annabelle's unbeating heart soar. She stepped forward, nodding, though didn't make a move closer. She couldn't touch other people like this, she couldn't just-

"OH ANNABELLE YOU'RE ALIVE!" Millie beat her to any punch, rushing from behind Ren and scooping the 5-foot pokemon into her strong arms. She squeezed Annabelle tight, eliciting a squeak as her haunted body still felt just as corporeal. At least she didn't need to breathe.

"Millie...please. You should all be careful, we don't know if I'm dangerous. It would be best to follow proper proce-" Millie let her go only into a gentler hug from Thom.

"Shut up about proper procedure. You're still here, we'll work on it from there." He stepped back, returning his expression to its usual stoic watchfulness.

Then there was Renata. Her hands hovered over her wheels, like she wanted to move toward Annabelle but couldn't quite work herself up to it. So Annabelle did the moving for her, taking first steps in her new body. Her claws clacked on the smooth floor.

"Ren, I..." Annabelle started, but she couldn't find the words. She didn't need them. Renata pulled her into her lap, the pokemon surprisingly light, and began to sob into her fur. Annabelle was here, she was here, she was. She too found herself beginning to cry, holding tight to Ren - as awkwardly perched in her lap as she was.

The pair stayed like that for some time, clinging to each other. It took Thom clearing his throat to separate the pair. He and Millie had stood awkwardly by, trying to not stare too much. He was the one to break the mutual crying session. "Uh. I don't mean to break up the reunion, but...how the hell are we all going to keep our jobs?"

Annabelle cocked her head, still sat across Renata's lap. "What do you mean? Everything turned out fine. Well, mostly fine. Well, no, it's an utter disaster but I'm still- I'm not alive but you know, I'm here."

Thom pinched the bridge of his nose. "Only you would die, come back to life as a pokemon, and then act like everything is hunky dory."

But she was fine. Despite her body changing, she was cognizant, and aware, and- and- She wouldn't think about her status on the 'living-dead' scale. She'd be fine.

Millie, in the middle of sweeping up shards of volcanic glass, had to agree. "I'm pretty sure it's frowned upon to be supervised by a pokemon. It might not specifically be in our contract, but that's just like how sex between coworkers in the lab isn't specifically mentioned in our contract. You still shouldn't do it, you still could get fired." A beat passed. "What? It's the quickest comparison I could think of."

"Irrelevant. I'm conscious, I have all my faculties. I can-"

"Millie has a point." Ren spoke up, lifting Annabelle out of her lap and making her stand next to her. "You have an entirely new body to learn, you're going to be dealing with an entirely new brain with entirely new instincts, and... well, you're going to need to deal with the trauma of fucking dying. Plus you're a pokemon, it's not like people aren't going to notice!"

She shifted her weight between her feet, shaking her head to flop her mane back and forth. Her hair? The definition was unclear. Well, she was a master illusionist...theoretically. There was that lake of power within her, would it be as simple as dipping back into that? Calm. Slow. Precise. The lake surrounded her. It made everything feel heavy, yet carried no weight itself. Thick, viscous. But the more she examined it, the less it could be compared to water. It was more like a cloud. As though pooled in a valley, wisps of the energy came off the edges, overflowing from herself in small amounts. The wisps coming off her hair suddenly made a lot more sense.

The freshly-minted zoroark tapped into the pool. She dipped her hands into it, mentally speaking, feeling the weight, the balance of that strange metaphysical space. Illusion couldn't be too hard. She thought back to what it'd looked like when her humanity wisped away, evaporating into empty space. Maybe it'd be as simple as reversing the process? Pulling a veil of humanity back around herself? Some days it felt like she needed to do that already.

Taking another deep breath, she conjured up a mental curtain of that fog, as though a doorway she could walk through. She thought about her humanity. What she looked like. Who she was. She wasn't an animal. She wasn't a beast. She was...Annabelle. And she would persevere. Through the doorway the zoroark stepped, and on the other side emerged Annabelle...at least the closest approximation one could make on such short notice.

"Oh holy shit." Millie nearly dropped the dustpan full of broken energy stone. "You look just like her. You. Well..besides…."

Thom grimaced. "We may need to find you a hat." He mimed scorbunny-ears with his fingers. Annabelle just sighed. "Easy enough."

Renata didn't look up from her console. "Ren, Ren look!" Millie called to get her attention, but the scientist sat, laser-focused on the console in front of her.

"Not right now, I'm wiping the cameras and data from the last few hours. We need to cover our tracks if we're going to pass it off like nothing happened." Keys clacked away. "We do want to keep our jobs, right?"

The next few hours passed in a blur. When HQ checked in, they reported a test failure, but not much more. During their purge of data, Annabelle tried to help where she could. And tried to get her ears under control once she found a mirror. Unfortunately, while she could disguise her body with illusions, she couldn't change the way they were underneath those illusions. But her ears were pointed now, covered in white-and-rose fur that betrayed her inhumanity. She'd have to manage with a hat, or with people not noticing.

Her hands were another issue. With long claws now capping her fingers, typing code proved easier said than done. After more than a few failed console tasks, Millie urged her to sit down and just wait the rest of the day out.

It filled her with a deep level of shame, the fact that she couldn't help her lab cover up her accident. She's better than that, she knows she is. It gave her time to practice her illusion at least. She sat there as her team reviewed every measurement, every anomaly, and ported the important measurements to an external drive that they could handle later. And all Annabelle did was watch. Soon it was time for her to head home, but she lingered by the door. Thom and Millie left first, but never had a door seemed so intimidating. The airlock stood just under the viewing room into the lab. Its sliding doors hermetically sealed to keep contaminants out - or in.

Was she a contaminant? Would she need to be kept- "Hey." A hand, on her back. It faltered at the sensation of fur only for a moment. Renata. "Do you…" A long pause, only broken up by Ren chewing on her lip. "Have you thought about how you're going to-. Shoot." The woman ran a hand through her hair. "It might be best if you come home with me tonight. You know, so I can keep an eye on you, make sure you get settled in alright."

The implication that a pokemon would need a human to look after them hung between them. She'd not used her voice in a few hours, out of fear of exhausting herself. She could just refuse the help, figure it out like she always had. But... "Gh. T-thank you, Ren. That's appreciated." She'd need the help. And would need to figure out what she could eat, and what her specific needs were. Like any pokemon. The zoroark's ears flattened against her head. She felt them move under her illusion. At least the illusion disguised her ears moving. They still remained furry. She grimaced.

"What's wrong? You ready to go?" Ren turned to look over her shoulder.

"Yeah, just. Yeah." Annabelle followed, exiting the facility without so much as a glance from any others. She'd keep her head down, and hope that no one noticed.

With a clack, the door shut behind them. The pair stood in darkness, though the silence stretching between them was much more oppressive. Just as they arrived, Annabelle's illusion dropped, revealing the hisuian zoroark in all her glory. Well, what would be glory, if she didn't look ragged. "Nnh, sit. Need- sit." Annabelle growled out a barely legible phrase between growls and yips, limping over to the dim shadow of a couch before Ren had even turned on the lights. She was drained, like the lake inside her had shriveled up into raw desert. Words themselves came hard, needing to be processed through the same illusion energy that she'd used up.

The lights came on, and Annabelle thanked Arceus that Ren was a fan of softer room lighting. Warm hues of yellow and orange splayed across the walls, coming from lamps and cabinets. It revealed a kitschy apartment with wide walkways, hardwood floors, and waist-level tables. Ren had tailored the space for herself, and it showed. The couch that Annabelle had collapsed into was a deep red, nearly the same color as those strange gem-like lumps all over her body. In the diffuse lighting, they almost looked like they glowed.

Everything in Ren's apartment had this timeless look to it. Round old-fashioned lamps sat on angular modern tables. Her entertainment system was state of the art...Annabelle would know after Ren gave her the down low on one of their...'friendly outings'. Annabelle knew a lot of about this place, based on the number of times she'd visited to watch a movie, or when she spent the night after they went stargazing. It was nice. Serene. At least when the room spun it was a nice one.

Annabelle curled up on one corner of the sofa, knees to her chest. She made sure to kick off the cloth booties she'd awkwardly wrapped around her paws before they departed. No one wanted to walk through a city barefoot. Fallora may have been a modern marvel, and clean as a skitty's coat, but Annabelle didn't want to cross that bridge just yet. She shivered, taking shallow breaths. Sitting still for long enough would hopefully bring the dizziness to an end. Hopefully.

Ren parked her wheelchair in its designated spot next to the door and reached for her forearm crutches. Easing out of her chair, she slowly walked over to where Annabelle was sitting. Annabelle couldn't bring herself to look up at her, to see the pity in her face. She was already taking her in for the night, and Annabelle had already caused so many problems and-

"Hey. How're you holding up?" Ren's voice, steady and calm, broke her from the spiral. She opened her mouth to respond 'fine', but all that came out was a weak "Zorrr". The zoroark was spent. She tried to grasp for the illusions she'd been so carefully weaving, but her fingers met with an empty vessel. Her ears drooped. This was fine. She could just do basic sign language, or...or…

Ren thought for a moment, then trekked off to the kitchen. Annabelle's heightened senses picked up on the rattling of a junk drawer, Ren grumbling to herself while searching for…something? After only a few moments, Ren returned with something stuffed into her back pocket.

Ren set the small pad of paper on the back of the couch. Alongside it, a pencil, yellow, wooden, adorned with a thick foam grip. "Here, Belle. You seemed to be having trouble. Are the lights too bright? Do you need me to get you water?" Ren had been so stoic throughout the afternoon, after Annabelle came back. Moving with purpose, with function. Her friend had come back, that seemed to keep her going. Annabelle couldn't help but kick herself for feeling fragile.

The zoroark shakily gripped the pencil, then the paper. It was difficult with three claws, unwieldy. Propping the pad against her knee, she wrote "I'm okay. Don't worry". Shaky handwriting made letters bleed into one another, but it got the point across. The decidedly-not-okay zoroark held it up to her temporary host, who frowned.

"Belle. Belle you're not okay. You died." Ren circled the couch before sitting on the other side, keeping a little distance between her and the new pokemon.

"I got better." Annabelle couldn't resist, and held it up to show Ren with what she could only hope was a smile. Were her expressions even different too?

A laugh bubbled forth from her friend, buoyed by hysteria that most likely had been shoved down during the earlier crisis. It earned Annabelle a balled up tissue tossed at her head, drawing a yelp from the zoroark. "Arceus...you really are Belle. I knew that it was you, but there was this part of me that just...just..." The interspersed giggles became something deeper, more anxious. Ren rubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hands, tears hitting like a freight train. "You died, you died and I couldn't do anything and I didn't even get to say how much I cared about you. How much I loved you."

A few more hiccupping sobs overtook her. Tears dripped onto the cloth of the couch, little 'pits' and 'pats' of pure emotion. Annabelle was speechless. Loved? Loved? By ages past she was dense! How could she not have seen it sooner? The late nights laughing at each other's jokes. Meeting up on the rail into work to share their latest ideas. Sitting under the stars, being interrupted by a flock of zubats. Falling asleep on the couch while watching that horrible movie 'Revenge of the Killer Pidgeys'. And Annabelle hadn't realized. Hadn't made the simple connection.

She let forth a canine whine, dragging herself over to put a paw on Ren's knee. "And now you're a pokemon. A pokemon! Hah! Just my luck." Annabelle pulled closer, not knowing what else to do. So she would write. It made her temporarily lift her hand - not a paw, she wouldn't call it that - so she could steady the paper. Her cheeks fluffed up as she thought through how to start the note, slotting more puzzle pieces into place about how they'd grown close over the years. Thirty years old and she hadn't even realized a girl was into her. What a fool. She would write something that really showed Ren how much she cared, how much she returned that affection.

She just needed to start. The pencil hovered above the paper, shaky with her lack of coordination. At that moment she realized she'd been holding her breath. Despite her shaking, her body was silent. No heartbeat, no breath, no- No. She'd have that panic some other time. For now she needed to tell Ren how she felt.

With a single purposeful movement, she brought the pencil down to begin her note.

"Ren, I'm sorry I didn't say so sooner, but knowing you these last few years has been amaz-" And with her shaky uncertain hand, the pressure was simply too much to bear. The tip of the pencil snapped off, lead flying off into the wild unknowns of the apartment. She'd also somehow managed to split the wooden pencil in two, a long crack running along the lead until being captured by the metal bit holding the eraser.

Ren lifted her head, startled by the sudden SNAP. She was treated to a mute zoroark desperately trying to shove the two pieces of the pencil together. No! Not now, not when she had to tell Ren how she felt! It was a strange sensation, to droop her ears, and yet they pressed against the back of her head in shame.

And was greeted by a litany of giggles from her companion. "You just- I- The look on your face..." But laughter was contagious, and soon Annabelle huffed out a few chuckles. Like a dam breaking, the tension in the air snapped between them. Sure, the day royally sucked. But they still had each other. Somehow, they still had each other.

Ren plucked the partially-written note and shattered pencil from her palm. She placed them on the table where they belonged. Annabelle mimed another pencil, to keep writing her note, in response Ren reached out and pulled her the rest of the way over on the couch, holding tight to her 'Belle. "Hush, we can figure out that note later. Or we can wait until you talk. Just, stay here for now. I don't want to lose you again."

Annabelle squirmed and pressed close, unable to find a proper position until she lifted her ethereal mane up and over the back of the couch. Another thing to get used to. Her room temperature body warmed quickly pressed tight to her...friend? More-than-friend? Once again, her thoughts threatened to jump the starting pistol, but she shoved them away. For now, she would just appreciate being near. Being present. Being "alive."

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Zero BPM

Yana Caoránach