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teamflareTitle: Comme Deux Amants Perdus
Fandom: Pokémon X&Y / Pokémon Ultra Sun & Moon
Pairing: Professor Augustine Sycamore/Lysandre
Rating: T
Summary:
AO3 Link: Here.
At the end of the call, Dexio looked so somber that Augustine worried something terrible must have happened. The blue hologram flickered; he still hadn't taken the time to get his holo-caster looked at.
It was strange, how less than ten words could reawaken memories you thought you'd moved on from long ago.
"Lysandre has been spotted in Alola," Dexio said, almost begrudgingly, like he was spitting out the words after they'd left a bad taste in his mouth. "We don't know what the exact situation is, so if you want us to…"
Augustine was grateful that he'd become well-practiced when it came to swallowing down his feelings on this specific topic.
"No, there's no need. I'll come."
Judging by Dexio's expression, this was exactly the answer he didn't want to hear. Unlike Augustine, he didn't even bother to try and conceal it.
"Professor, I really don't think you should–"
There was a rustle. Dexio's gaze drifted to the side as if he was looking at someone else. Augustine could hazard a guess.
"I'm afraid you don't have any say in what I should or shouldn't do." He felt strangely calm, which only seemed to cause further alarm. "I'll be there first thing tomorrow."
Dexio opened his mouth, gesturing no doubt to hand his holo-caster to Sina off-screen. Before either of them could try to protest, Augustine hung up. He turned the dial on his watch to ensure they couldn't call him back.
They'd been a tremendous help, back then, and he was still grateful for it. They'd been there to support the children and ensure they were alright, and they'd been there to support him, in the aftermath, in ways that went beyond what one could expect from even long-time assistants. It was Dexio who'd either shown up at his apartment weekly to check that he had food or called up Diantha to do it instead. It was Sina who'd taken over the lab for him on the days when Augustine couldn't even get out of bed. They'd waited to be certain he would be able to handle himself without them before they'd agreed to go on their alolan trip, and even then they'd checked on him far more than their fieldwork warranted.
It was all done under the pretense that they needed his opinion or his expertise on this or that, but they all knew that they were calling to see if he was doing alright.
He was. The long, bedridden days spent drinking cheap wine and staring at the ceiling were behind him, for the most part. Seeing the children thrive had helped: Serena was on her way to becoming a powerful mega-evolution expert, and Calem had held up his own against the league masterfully. Trevor was coming to the lab almost every day, joking that he was training for his internship, and Shauna had finally worked up the courage to ask Serena. Tierno had left them to go study new, exciting dance moves in Unova. The world had to keep on turning: the future was still there to be believed in, to be built upon. There was no time to waste clinging to negativity.
No body had been found in the remains of Lysandre's self-made catacombs. For a few months, after he'd gone through his belongings, Augustine had kept seeing him everywhere. Some of it was just running into things that triggered painful memories: gifts he'd been given, notes left behind on his desk, pictures they'd taken together. On a day when he'd felt mostly like himself, he'd rummaged through the storage and found a box of pastries that must have been misplaced, and proceeded to have a breakdown braced against a shelf.
Some of it – a lot of it, if he had to be honest with himself – was plainly and simply seeing things. Someone's red hair would catch the sun in the street, and he'd turn around, his heart beating hard enough to hurt, only to find he was once again chasing a ghost. He'd see him in store windows showing off nicely cut suits. He'd see him after hearing a stranger let out a low, throaty laugh not unlike a roar. Worst of all, he'd see him when he was trying to forget him in other people's beds, in other people's hearts. He'd close his eyes and for a few seconds the hands touching his chest would be his hands, the lips searching his would be his lips. Over time, it had become an even more insidious addiction than the wine had been, and he'd stopped completely.
At least if he thought of Lysandre while touching himself, only one person was getting hurt.
Sitting in his kitchen, his face buried in his palms, he wondered if this, too, was him seeing things. Could it have somehow spread? Could Dexio and Sina be succumbing to some kind of shared hysteria?
They hadn't said they'd spotted him, though. The way Dexio had said it, it sounded like the information came from unrelated people.
Augustine pushed on his eyelids with his thumb and forefinger until he could see splotches of blurry colors. Whatever was happening, he would find out.
He had no other choice.
The alolan sun was as unforgiving as he remembered it. His last trip to the region had been in his mid-twenties, seeking more data as he made his way toward becoming a pokémon professor. Some of the species he'd met there had contributed to some of his later breakthroughs.
Thinking about the far past and thinking about his work helped to take his mind off what he was actually there for. That, and the seasickness.
Dexio and Sina rushed to his side as soon as they caught sight of him. One firmly grabbed his admittedly light baggage, while the other crushed him into a hug.
"Professor, your face is so pale," Dexio said, midway through traversing the pier. His looked more bronzed than ever. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Augustine grimaced. "Yes. It seems old age has made me a lot more sensitive to the turn of the tides." He winced when his toe caught on a plank that was just slightly higher up than he expected, making him nearly lose his balance. "Or something."
"We can walk on the beach for a bit," Sina suggested. She was holding back a smile, perhaps to spare his feelings. "You can get some fresh air, clear your head, and listen to what we know so far."
She spoke cheerfully, but it did little to stop Augustine's stomach from tying into knots.
"Sounds great." His attempt to match her tone failed miserably.
The gist of it wasn't much at all, as it turned out. The region had been the site of many odd encounters and happenings, some of which involved other dimensions and worlds. While the inhabitants had thought themselves finally freed from all the commotion, a brand-new threat had raised its head, and with it, brand-new kinds of oddities.
It seemed to involve a criminal organization that was thought to have been disbanded, its ex-leader's whereabouts unknown. None of it made much sense, though Sina asserted that the authorities were on the case and that it was very serious. They hadn't been told much, on account of them not being involved, but they had contacts who'd shared some of the information they had. From there came news of Lysandre's reappearance.
"It could be nothing," Dexio said, later, once they'd reached the small studio they'd been renting. "It could be a mistake, or an impostor."
Augustine scoffed. His whole body felt sore. At least his nausea had receded. "Why would anyone pretend to be a kalosian criminal who's been presumed dead for years?"
The only reasons he could come up with had to do with himself, which felt even more delusional than simply believing it really was Lysandre, somehow. Augustine had nothing to do with any of this. He hadn't set foot in Alola in years, and had barely heard about the kantonian man at the heart of it all. He stretched his leg out from where he was sitting on the flimsy couch.
Dexio and Sina exchanged looks.
"He's not the only one involved, apparently," Sina said after they'd communicated in silent blinks for several seconds. "It's a whole mess."
"Seems like it." Augustine felt too exhausted to think about this further. "I think I'll take a nap if you don't mind."
They didn't, of course. The couch managed to feel too hard and too soft at the same time, but, by that point, Augustine was so worn out that it took only a minimal amount of tossing and turning for him to fall asleep.
The rest of their day, once Augustine had emerged from his slumber feeling less like his knees were about to collapse under him, consisted mostly of lurking and asking around. They met up with the local pokémon professor, whose enthusiasm at meeting Augustine quickly deflated upon learning he didn't care much for battling, and then picked back up when they got into discussing move-based evolution. One meeting leading to another, they ended up getting acquainted with people who were actually in the know of the situation, and seemed oddly put off by his presence.
A woman with purple hair introduced herself as Wicke and explained that part of what used to be her workplace had been taken over. She turned to a blonde man whose gaze, even through his glasses, proved very intense, to tell him Augustine knew one of the people involved.
"What a coincidence," he said, his mouth quirking into the very beginning of a smirk. "I, too, am very familiar with someone who's been roped into this. Perhaps we could work something out."
Augustine nodded, holding back a frown. If this was how he could gain access to Lysandre, he wasn't going to compromise it. The scientist, Colress, informed him that they could only speak alone. Ignoring Dexio and Sina's anxious expressions, Augustine agreed.
Once they'd both sat in the small, white-walled room, surrounded by tables covered in items and devices Augustine had never seen, Colress joined his fingers together in front of his face. The overhead lights brightened the lenses of his glasses so much they became nearly opaque, hiding his pale yellow eyes.
"Professor Sycamore," he said, "what do you know of parallel universes?"
The plan was as follows: they would require an audience with Lysandre specifically. If he agreed, Augustine would meet him, to try to find out more, perhaps even convince him to sell out his colleagues, with whom Augustine doubted he had much in common. From there, the outcome would depend on his reaction.
Colress had been crystal clear that the Lysandre in that castle had very low chances of being the Lysandre Augustine knew, yet he couldn't help but hope. The scientist's explanations of the multiverse had been extensive and, even, convincing, but they paled in the face of Augustine's grief.
Though perhaps a Lysandre from another world would be comforting enough. The physicality of him, the thought of seeing that face again, that red mane, those icy eyes... That was what Augustine had been chasing, after all.
Lysandre's answer came surprisingly quickly. They had people inside, it seemed, who could relay messages, and Lysandre was swift to agree to meet him. It only served to further fuel Augustine's propensity for optimism. Why would a Lysandre he didn't know be so eager to meet him? He had to know that this was not his world, that Augustine was a stranger. That he would want to see him, knowing that, had to count for something.
The inside of the facility was bright white, blank walls reminiscent of a hospital. It made it contrast with the castle that had sprouted within it that much more starkly. The blacks and reds made Augustine's body grow cold, anxiety spiking at the bottom of his stomach. At least he wouldn't have to go further inside.
They'd arranged to meet at the entrance. The man in charge of this whole mess wouldn't allow his subordinates – his prisoners – to leave. Wicke had looked surprised that he'd even allowed them entry at all, though Colress had simply smiled knowingly. Augustine didn't care much for whatever game they were playing. It wasn't as if he wanted to be involved, which maybe was why he'd been granted access in the first place.
Or maybe this was all a grand scheme to kidnap him and force him to help in whatever it was they were doing. They'd assured him that wouldn't be a problem. He couldn't help but think that he'd been sent to scout out the areas, all things considered.
The Aether employee who'd escorted him retreated toward the entrance, though he could still feel her eyes on him. He was busy ignoring her, fiddling with one of his sleeves and feeling mostly ridiculous, when footsteps resonated down one of the stairwells.
Augustine's heart banged against his rib cage, leaving him breathless. It was one thing to hear the words. It was a whole other thing to see that they were true.
The last time he'd seen Lysandre, he was either unmoving, a figure caught in photographs, forever stuck in place, looking stern with his eyebrows drawn or, more rarely, uncharacteristically warm, his mouth uncoiling into a grin that Augustine thought was true – or he was in motion, a sterile picture of himself, divorced of any humanity, showing off his products, answering pre-tailored questions, smirking in that practiced way that never reached his eyes. After a while, the pictures, no matter their state, had begun to replace the memories, substituting the real deal. When he'd tried to recall Lysandre, to remember the time they'd spent together, he'd thought of the tight focus, the surprising vulnerability, the deceit, but they were just three facets of the same man, the remnants of a person he thought he'd never see again.
This Lysandre was tangible. He was moving; he was breathing. Augustine's skin tingled like all of it was going numb. He opened his mouth without getting a single word out.
"Professor Sycamore," Lysandre said. He was the same: same hair, same eyes, same stance. His voice was the same. "What a delightful surprise."
His clothes were the same. The cravat espoused his throat just as it always had, hiding his neck from view. The fur on his collar looked softer than ever. It had to smell the same, too, that faint aroma of coffee and cologne.
"I'm sorry that I cannot provide you with any food or beverage," Lysandre went on. He was smiling his practiced smile, but the slight curve of his eyebrow betrayed some confusion. "As I have to assume my counterpart would have."
Augustine's mouth twisted into what had to be a grimace, judging by the way Lysandre blinked at him.
His counterpart. It felt foolish, then, to have clung on to that hope. Despite his previous convictions, Augustine felt regret creep up his spine. There was no reason for him to stay there, to talk to this eerily familiar stranger who was studying him much too politely.
Yet.
"What are you doing here?" Augustine asked. Lysandre scoffed, which sparked something like anger within him, a small measure of comfort. Anger was easy enough. "This isn't funny. If you're messing with me–"
"You really believed I could be from this world," Lysandre said. He sounded as if he was hesitating between wonder and pity. "I apologize once again for the false advertisement, Professor, if you'll allow the jest. I did not choose to come here, though perhaps I would have, had I known I'd get the chance to meet you."
His smile this time seemed almost sincere. It didn't reach all the way to his eyes, but it was an adequate imitation of the ones he, or his counterpart as he'd called him, used to give Augustine on their best days. He straightened his back, his arms folded behind him, and for a second, barring the odd room they were standing in, it was as if nothing was amiss, as if Augustine truly was reuniting with the Lysandre he'd known.
Augustine shook his head, breaking the spell. "You're dodging the question."
"Indeed." Lysandre held up his hand to stroke his beard, suddenly thoughtful. "I'm sure my counterpart did a much better job at hiding things from you. I'd made quite an impression on yours, back home." His smile had shrunken somewhat, yet he carried on. "Of course, you've got the advantage of hindsight. Twenty-twenty, as the saying goes, if I recall."
"Do you think this is funny?" Augustine gritted out.
He'd taken a step toward the other man without meaning to. In the strange lighting of the hallway, Lysandre's face looked a little paler than Augustine remembered it. The corners of his mouth twitched.
"Whatever it was you'd expected from me, I fear that I won't be able to provide. If it's closure–"
Augustine's arm sprung up, more of a reflex than a conscious decision. In a split second, he was ramming his fist into Lysandre's face before either of them could react. Something gave in with a crack, snapping him out of it at the same time as Lysandre let out a low, pained cry.
Then his nose started bleeding.
"Merde, I'm sorry," Augustine said, his frustration evaporating all at once. "Do you, huh..."
Lysandre was pressing his palm up against his nostrils to try and impede the trickle. At least it didn't seem too serious. Augustine had no idea he could even muster enough strength to break someone's nose, with or without the element of surprise.
When he met Lysandre's eyes, he expected them to be filled with thinly contained rage. Instead, they were dark and clouded with what Augustine could only describe as arousal. His slight frown seemed to be born more out of confusion than any sort of vexation. Before either of them could speak, the Aether employee ran up to stand between them. He appeared to be the most shaken up by what had just gone down.
Augustine didn't even bother to try to justify himself. He shook his head and, without waiting to be admonished, shot Lysandre one last look – took in the pallor of his cheeks, the way his shoulders were leaned back to allow him to curl forward a bit as he kept his hand carefully cupped over his mouth even as the flow had stopped – and turned to leave.
Colress and the others would be disappointed that he had nothing of interest to report, but he'd seen enough to know this wasn't worth any more of his time.
Once he'd made it clear he wasn't interested in trying to pursue this Lysandre anymore, Augustine dedicated himself to enjoying his impromptu alolan vacation – and quickly found himself growing restless. He'd be assisting Dexio in his studies, or chatting up Professor Kukui about what he was currently working on, or even lazing around on the beach, and he wouldn't be able to stop his thoughts from drifting toward this other Lysandre he'd punched in the face.
He'd never even dreamed of punching his Lysandre in the face.
Well, maybe that was a lie. He'd dreamed of it, once the dust had settled. Before then, it had never crossed his mind. He'd been either too busy swallowing every single lie he was being fed, or too lost in his grief and anguish from learning the truth.
The look on Lysandre's face kept replaying in his head. It was one he'd seen before, so long ago it might as well have never happened; one he'd tried desperately to make himself forget. Though perhaps he hadn't been trying very hard, in the end. After all, he'd rushed to see Lysandre again at the first opportunity.
Pathetic, really.
He was still ruminating on that thought when Colress contacted him to let him know they'd received a message from one of their moles. Lysandre wanted to meet him, on the sly this time. There would be a short window a few nights away, near the facility's entrance, where he could come out to talk.
Colress told him it was his choice to make, but Augustine wasn't an idiot. He knew they wanted him to go, in case it could help them garner more information.
At least, that way, he could tell himself he was doing it for their sake and not his.
He didn't give himself time to overthink it. He didn't even mention it to Sina and Dexio, to spare himself unnecessary conversations. On a clear, sweltering night, wearing one of the light shirts he'd bought on one of his impromptu shopping sprees, he made his way there, alone.
Lysandre's silhouette was unmistakable. He could have recognized him anywhere. They used to joke that he was related to alolan exeggutors, and now there he was, standing on alolan soil, his face barely illuminated by the moonlight. Augustine closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath before breaching the distance left between them.
"Professor," Lysandre greeted him with a nod. "I will admit, I didn't think you would come."
"It was a spur-of-the-moment decision." Augustine found himself staring at Lysandre's neck to avoid the risk of meeting his eyes. "I'm surprised you wanted to see me after our... encounter."
"Ah, well." Lysandre chuckled, though it lacked humor. "What can I say? I am an unpredictable man."
They didn't say anything for several seconds. Augustine counted his own heartbeats in the silence that ensued. At this hour, on that bright white artificial island, there was no sign of life around them. The only sound he could hear was the light swirling of the waves below.
Lysandre cleared his throat. "I'd like to apologize for my lack of manners. To tell you the truth, I was less prepared to see you than I thought myself to be." Augustine blinked up at him, and Lysandre's gaze softened, just barely. "You are not the only one grieving, as I'm sure you assume."
He did, yet hearing it confirmed hit Augustine harder than he'd expected. Of course the Augustine that this Lysandre knew would be dead, if this was indeed a Lysandre who'd come out victorious. His heartbeat picked up, and he felt a chill run down his spine despite the heat.
"It appears I underestimated how much I missed you." Lysandre's mouth trembled into the beginning of a smile as he spoke, his expression torn between pity and, strangely, relief. "Or, I suppose, how much I missed him."
"I don't even know whether he's dead or not," Augustine admitted before he could stop himself. The words still hurt to say. "I don't know if that's better or worse. I thought– I really thought I'd be able to see him again, too."
"I must make for a poor replacement. It was not my intention to deceive you." Lysandre tilted his head, staring into the horizon, beyond the waves. "I was brought here against my will. You'll find this amusing, I believe: I never got to enjoy what I'd worked so hard to create. I was taken here before I could witness my beautiful world."
His laugh at that called to mind the pained rasp of a wounded pokémon. Rather than try to come up with an answer, Augustine let his gaze linger on Lysandre's features, taking advantage of his distracted state, drinking in the supple weight of his thick eyelashes, the characteristic shape of his nose, the fullness of his lips, to commit them to memory for later. It was only fair.
"What was it like, for you and him?" Lysandre asked. He didn't need to specify what he meant; Augustine understood it all too well.
"I thought we were in love," he said, plain and simple. "Obviously, I was mistaken."
Lysandre's eyes flickered back toward him.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that. To me, and, I gather, to him as well, there were many things we put after our sense of duty. Such a steep sacrifice is the burden of a true hero, as it were." This time, the corners of his lips twitched up into a real smile, an honest one that reminded Augustine of kinder days. "Wouldn't you think?"
"There's no point in puzzling it over. I've wasted enough sleepless nights." He shook his head. "What's done is done, and what's gone is gone."
He thought Lysandre would insist on speaking of the past, interrogate him on what had happened to the Lysandre of this world. He didn't. Instead, he stroked his beard and moved on to explain what, exactly, they had been planning in that strange castle that had erupted out of nowhere. He gave Augustine a rundown of everything, from his estimate of the number of people involved to the basic layout of the place, and his impression of the other colorful characters he'd been forced to work with.
The unreality of it washed over Augustine as if he was dreaming while awake. He laughed under his breath at Lysandre's obvious annoyance with his "colleagues", and nodded with curious interest at his recollections of the latest happenings. It felt so much like reuniting with an old friend, he found himself almost forgetting where he was and who he was with, until finally, Lysandre looked back toward the entrance, his hands clasped behind his back.
"That'll be all," he said. "I'd rather not arouse further suspicion." He smiled at Augustine, who couldn't help but smile back. "It really was a pleasure to see you, Professor."
"I forgot to apologize." Lysandre eyed him quizzically. "For punching you! I'm sorry."
Lysandre scoffed. Then, to Augustine's astonishment, he winked at him. "I deserved it."
With that, he turned around, to walk back to the facility, and the castle within. Augustine stood at the edge of the dock to watch him disappear back inside and tried to ignore the twinge of regret in his guts.
It was all quite a messy affair, after that, though Augustine was spared from most of it. A group of children, who'd recently been traveling through the region following the local traditions that Professor Kukui had told him about, ended up doing most of the work. The familiarity of it filled Augustine with unease. There was something to be said about the way kids always ended up at the forefront of these events, somehow. It made Augustine feel even older than he was, and a whole lot more pathetic.
He told himself it was for the best. It wasn't as if he'd had any illusions about getting to see Lysandre again – whichever one he was thinking of. He'd been granted far more than he expected. He told himself that, hunched over on Sina and Dexio's couch, holding back from screaming until his lungs gave out.
Parallel universes. What a joke, and at his expense, too.
Dexio brewed him enough coffee to kill a man, and Sina sat next to him and pretended not to notice when he started to tear up while they kept discussing their latest findings. It could have been worse. He'd gotten some good out of it.
He was beginning to believe it when Colress gave him a call. Even seeing his face, Augustine could hear the bitterness in his voice as he informed him of the latest developments. They'd managed to take the whole thing down and send everyone back where they belonged, or so they said. Augustine ran his fingers through his hair and pretended to be fine with that.
"I guess I'd better go home, then," he said. He'd aimed for light-hearted, but Colress's silence was all he needed to know he'd failed. "Glad I could help."
"Actually," Colress replied, his voice uncharacteristically soft, "there is something else you need to know."
Augustine's heart skipped a beat. He stood up and, grateful that Sina and Dexio had left on a research trip, opened the door to let himself out.
"You're staying in Heahea City, correct?" Colress didn't wait for his answer. "Someone is waiting for you at the Ferry Terminal. I'd love to stay and chat, but..."
"Thank you," was all that Augustine said before hanging up.
The sun was beating down on him, its weight settling over the back of his neck and rolling down his spine. He hadn't even thought to take his hat with him, or the sunglasses he'd borrowed from Dexio. He almost tripped over a stone on the pavement as he crossed the street, causing a few passersby to stop and check he was alright. Augustine mumbled something about being in a rush that none of them seemed to find reassuring, and nearly stumbled again, over his own feet, when he spotted him, his hair flowing in the sea breeze like a crackling campfire. He'd dressed down, a light orange shirt and pants that looked too short for his legs, and he'd tied his hair back, but he was impossible to miss.
Lysandre turned around, his eyes narrowed from the inescapable glare of the alolan sun, something like a smile hovering over his lips.
"Professor," he said with a nod as soon as Augustine had joined him, "it's good to see you."
He looked so innocuous that Augustine wasn't sure how to react. "You're not going back?"
"It seems the process is uncertain, and the risk didn't seem worth the possibility of it failing."
"So you're staying?"
Lysandre's brow furrowed, his gaze drifting away. His embarrassed demeanor was so reminiscent of the Lysandre that Augustine remembered that he couldn't hold on to his anger.
"If you'll have me," Lysandre murmured.
They would wrestle with this later, Augustine thought, with their griefs and their differences, and the weight of everything Lysandre had done, in either of their worlds. They would wrestle with the others, too, whose reactions would be more than justified.
Later. For now, Augustine reached out for Lysandre's arm, and gripped it tight.
Fandom: Pokémon X&Y / Pokémon Ultra Sun & Moon
Pairing: Professor Augustine Sycamore/Lysandre
Rating: T
Summary:
At the end of the call, Dexio looked so somber that Augustine worried something terrible must have happened. The blue hologram flickered; he still hadn't taken the time to get his holo-caster looked at.Notes: I guess this is the year I'm writing all of my lingering ideas for them that I've meant to write for ages and never did, huh. This was written for #ficwip5k, although this was originally started for last year's edition, and then I let it rest and finished it just in time. Another 5k exactly wonder... Title is from Je recherche by Charlie and Mauss, a very nostalgic pick, but it's about searching for someone you've left behind for good reasons, which feels like a perfect fit. Had I been braver, I would have used the full line – Comme deux amants perdus qui n'ont peur de rien puisqu'ils croient encore – alas, I am a coward. 😔
It was strange, how less than ten words could reawaken memories you thought you'd moved on from long ago.
"Lysandre has been spotted in Alola," Dexio said, almost begrudgingly, like he was spitting out the words after they'd left a bad taste in his mouth.
AO3 Link: Here.
At the end of the call, Dexio looked so somber that Augustine worried something terrible must have happened. The blue hologram flickered; he still hadn't taken the time to get his holo-caster looked at.
It was strange, how less than ten words could reawaken memories you thought you'd moved on from long ago.
"Lysandre has been spotted in Alola," Dexio said, almost begrudgingly, like he was spitting out the words after they'd left a bad taste in his mouth. "We don't know what the exact situation is, so if you want us to…"
Augustine was grateful that he'd become well-practiced when it came to swallowing down his feelings on this specific topic.
"No, there's no need. I'll come."
Judging by Dexio's expression, this was exactly the answer he didn't want to hear. Unlike Augustine, he didn't even bother to try and conceal it.
"Professor, I really don't think you should–"
There was a rustle. Dexio's gaze drifted to the side as if he was looking at someone else. Augustine could hazard a guess.
"I'm afraid you don't have any say in what I should or shouldn't do." He felt strangely calm, which only seemed to cause further alarm. "I'll be there first thing tomorrow."
Dexio opened his mouth, gesturing no doubt to hand his holo-caster to Sina off-screen. Before either of them could try to protest, Augustine hung up. He turned the dial on his watch to ensure they couldn't call him back.
They'd been a tremendous help, back then, and he was still grateful for it. They'd been there to support the children and ensure they were alright, and they'd been there to support him, in the aftermath, in ways that went beyond what one could expect from even long-time assistants. It was Dexio who'd either shown up at his apartment weekly to check that he had food or called up Diantha to do it instead. It was Sina who'd taken over the lab for him on the days when Augustine couldn't even get out of bed. They'd waited to be certain he would be able to handle himself without them before they'd agreed to go on their alolan trip, and even then they'd checked on him far more than their fieldwork warranted.
It was all done under the pretense that they needed his opinion or his expertise on this or that, but they all knew that they were calling to see if he was doing alright.
He was. The long, bedridden days spent drinking cheap wine and staring at the ceiling were behind him, for the most part. Seeing the children thrive had helped: Serena was on her way to becoming a powerful mega-evolution expert, and Calem had held up his own against the league masterfully. Trevor was coming to the lab almost every day, joking that he was training for his internship, and Shauna had finally worked up the courage to ask Serena. Tierno had left them to go study new, exciting dance moves in Unova. The world had to keep on turning: the future was still there to be believed in, to be built upon. There was no time to waste clinging to negativity.
No body had been found in the remains of Lysandre's self-made catacombs. For a few months, after he'd gone through his belongings, Augustine had kept seeing him everywhere. Some of it was just running into things that triggered painful memories: gifts he'd been given, notes left behind on his desk, pictures they'd taken together. On a day when he'd felt mostly like himself, he'd rummaged through the storage and found a box of pastries that must have been misplaced, and proceeded to have a breakdown braced against a shelf.
Some of it – a lot of it, if he had to be honest with himself – was plainly and simply seeing things. Someone's red hair would catch the sun in the street, and he'd turn around, his heart beating hard enough to hurt, only to find he was once again chasing a ghost. He'd see him in store windows showing off nicely cut suits. He'd see him after hearing a stranger let out a low, throaty laugh not unlike a roar. Worst of all, he'd see him when he was trying to forget him in other people's beds, in other people's hearts. He'd close his eyes and for a few seconds the hands touching his chest would be his hands, the lips searching his would be his lips. Over time, it had become an even more insidious addiction than the wine had been, and he'd stopped completely.
At least if he thought of Lysandre while touching himself, only one person was getting hurt.
Sitting in his kitchen, his face buried in his palms, he wondered if this, too, was him seeing things. Could it have somehow spread? Could Dexio and Sina be succumbing to some kind of shared hysteria?
They hadn't said they'd spotted him, though. The way Dexio had said it, it sounded like the information came from unrelated people.
Augustine pushed on his eyelids with his thumb and forefinger until he could see splotches of blurry colors. Whatever was happening, he would find out.
He had no other choice.
The alolan sun was as unforgiving as he remembered it. His last trip to the region had been in his mid-twenties, seeking more data as he made his way toward becoming a pokémon professor. Some of the species he'd met there had contributed to some of his later breakthroughs.
Thinking about the far past and thinking about his work helped to take his mind off what he was actually there for. That, and the seasickness.
Dexio and Sina rushed to his side as soon as they caught sight of him. One firmly grabbed his admittedly light baggage, while the other crushed him into a hug.
"Professor, your face is so pale," Dexio said, midway through traversing the pier. His looked more bronzed than ever. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Augustine grimaced. "Yes. It seems old age has made me a lot more sensitive to the turn of the tides." He winced when his toe caught on a plank that was just slightly higher up than he expected, making him nearly lose his balance. "Or something."
"We can walk on the beach for a bit," Sina suggested. She was holding back a smile, perhaps to spare his feelings. "You can get some fresh air, clear your head, and listen to what we know so far."
She spoke cheerfully, but it did little to stop Augustine's stomach from tying into knots.
"Sounds great." His attempt to match her tone failed miserably.
The gist of it wasn't much at all, as it turned out. The region had been the site of many odd encounters and happenings, some of which involved other dimensions and worlds. While the inhabitants had thought themselves finally freed from all the commotion, a brand-new threat had raised its head, and with it, brand-new kinds of oddities.
It seemed to involve a criminal organization that was thought to have been disbanded, its ex-leader's whereabouts unknown. None of it made much sense, though Sina asserted that the authorities were on the case and that it was very serious. They hadn't been told much, on account of them not being involved, but they had contacts who'd shared some of the information they had. From there came news of Lysandre's reappearance.
"It could be nothing," Dexio said, later, once they'd reached the small studio they'd been renting. "It could be a mistake, or an impostor."
Augustine scoffed. His whole body felt sore. At least his nausea had receded. "Why would anyone pretend to be a kalosian criminal who's been presumed dead for years?"
The only reasons he could come up with had to do with himself, which felt even more delusional than simply believing it really was Lysandre, somehow. Augustine had nothing to do with any of this. He hadn't set foot in Alola in years, and had barely heard about the kantonian man at the heart of it all. He stretched his leg out from where he was sitting on the flimsy couch.
Dexio and Sina exchanged looks.
"He's not the only one involved, apparently," Sina said after they'd communicated in silent blinks for several seconds. "It's a whole mess."
"Seems like it." Augustine felt too exhausted to think about this further. "I think I'll take a nap if you don't mind."
They didn't, of course. The couch managed to feel too hard and too soft at the same time, but, by that point, Augustine was so worn out that it took only a minimal amount of tossing and turning for him to fall asleep.
The rest of their day, once Augustine had emerged from his slumber feeling less like his knees were about to collapse under him, consisted mostly of lurking and asking around. They met up with the local pokémon professor, whose enthusiasm at meeting Augustine quickly deflated upon learning he didn't care much for battling, and then picked back up when they got into discussing move-based evolution. One meeting leading to another, they ended up getting acquainted with people who were actually in the know of the situation, and seemed oddly put off by his presence.
A woman with purple hair introduced herself as Wicke and explained that part of what used to be her workplace had been taken over. She turned to a blonde man whose gaze, even through his glasses, proved very intense, to tell him Augustine knew one of the people involved.
"What a coincidence," he said, his mouth quirking into the very beginning of a smirk. "I, too, am very familiar with someone who's been roped into this. Perhaps we could work something out."
Augustine nodded, holding back a frown. If this was how he could gain access to Lysandre, he wasn't going to compromise it. The scientist, Colress, informed him that they could only speak alone. Ignoring Dexio and Sina's anxious expressions, Augustine agreed.
Once they'd both sat in the small, white-walled room, surrounded by tables covered in items and devices Augustine had never seen, Colress joined his fingers together in front of his face. The overhead lights brightened the lenses of his glasses so much they became nearly opaque, hiding his pale yellow eyes.
"Professor Sycamore," he said, "what do you know of parallel universes?"
The plan was as follows: they would require an audience with Lysandre specifically. If he agreed, Augustine would meet him, to try to find out more, perhaps even convince him to sell out his colleagues, with whom Augustine doubted he had much in common. From there, the outcome would depend on his reaction.
Colress had been crystal clear that the Lysandre in that castle had very low chances of being the Lysandre Augustine knew, yet he couldn't help but hope. The scientist's explanations of the multiverse had been extensive and, even, convincing, but they paled in the face of Augustine's grief.
Though perhaps a Lysandre from another world would be comforting enough. The physicality of him, the thought of seeing that face again, that red mane, those icy eyes... That was what Augustine had been chasing, after all.
Lysandre's answer came surprisingly quickly. They had people inside, it seemed, who could relay messages, and Lysandre was swift to agree to meet him. It only served to further fuel Augustine's propensity for optimism. Why would a Lysandre he didn't know be so eager to meet him? He had to know that this was not his world, that Augustine was a stranger. That he would want to see him, knowing that, had to count for something.
The inside of the facility was bright white, blank walls reminiscent of a hospital. It made it contrast with the castle that had sprouted within it that much more starkly. The blacks and reds made Augustine's body grow cold, anxiety spiking at the bottom of his stomach. At least he wouldn't have to go further inside.
They'd arranged to meet at the entrance. The man in charge of this whole mess wouldn't allow his subordinates – his prisoners – to leave. Wicke had looked surprised that he'd even allowed them entry at all, though Colress had simply smiled knowingly. Augustine didn't care much for whatever game they were playing. It wasn't as if he wanted to be involved, which maybe was why he'd been granted access in the first place.
Or maybe this was all a grand scheme to kidnap him and force him to help in whatever it was they were doing. They'd assured him that wouldn't be a problem. He couldn't help but think that he'd been sent to scout out the areas, all things considered.
The Aether employee who'd escorted him retreated toward the entrance, though he could still feel her eyes on him. He was busy ignoring her, fiddling with one of his sleeves and feeling mostly ridiculous, when footsteps resonated down one of the stairwells.
Augustine's heart banged against his rib cage, leaving him breathless. It was one thing to hear the words. It was a whole other thing to see that they were true.
The last time he'd seen Lysandre, he was either unmoving, a figure caught in photographs, forever stuck in place, looking stern with his eyebrows drawn or, more rarely, uncharacteristically warm, his mouth uncoiling into a grin that Augustine thought was true – or he was in motion, a sterile picture of himself, divorced of any humanity, showing off his products, answering pre-tailored questions, smirking in that practiced way that never reached his eyes. After a while, the pictures, no matter their state, had begun to replace the memories, substituting the real deal. When he'd tried to recall Lysandre, to remember the time they'd spent together, he'd thought of the tight focus, the surprising vulnerability, the deceit, but they were just three facets of the same man, the remnants of a person he thought he'd never see again.
This Lysandre was tangible. He was moving; he was breathing. Augustine's skin tingled like all of it was going numb. He opened his mouth without getting a single word out.
"Professor Sycamore," Lysandre said. He was the same: same hair, same eyes, same stance. His voice was the same. "What a delightful surprise."
His clothes were the same. The cravat espoused his throat just as it always had, hiding his neck from view. The fur on his collar looked softer than ever. It had to smell the same, too, that faint aroma of coffee and cologne.
"I'm sorry that I cannot provide you with any food or beverage," Lysandre went on. He was smiling his practiced smile, but the slight curve of his eyebrow betrayed some confusion. "As I have to assume my counterpart would have."
Augustine's mouth twisted into what had to be a grimace, judging by the way Lysandre blinked at him.
His counterpart. It felt foolish, then, to have clung on to that hope. Despite his previous convictions, Augustine felt regret creep up his spine. There was no reason for him to stay there, to talk to this eerily familiar stranger who was studying him much too politely.
Yet.
"What are you doing here?" Augustine asked. Lysandre scoffed, which sparked something like anger within him, a small measure of comfort. Anger was easy enough. "This isn't funny. If you're messing with me–"
"You really believed I could be from this world," Lysandre said. He sounded as if he was hesitating between wonder and pity. "I apologize once again for the false advertisement, Professor, if you'll allow the jest. I did not choose to come here, though perhaps I would have, had I known I'd get the chance to meet you."
His smile this time seemed almost sincere. It didn't reach all the way to his eyes, but it was an adequate imitation of the ones he, or his counterpart as he'd called him, used to give Augustine on their best days. He straightened his back, his arms folded behind him, and for a second, barring the odd room they were standing in, it was as if nothing was amiss, as if Augustine truly was reuniting with the Lysandre he'd known.
Augustine shook his head, breaking the spell. "You're dodging the question."
"Indeed." Lysandre held up his hand to stroke his beard, suddenly thoughtful. "I'm sure my counterpart did a much better job at hiding things from you. I'd made quite an impression on yours, back home." His smile had shrunken somewhat, yet he carried on. "Of course, you've got the advantage of hindsight. Twenty-twenty, as the saying goes, if I recall."
"Do you think this is funny?" Augustine gritted out.
He'd taken a step toward the other man without meaning to. In the strange lighting of the hallway, Lysandre's face looked a little paler than Augustine remembered it. The corners of his mouth twitched.
"Whatever it was you'd expected from me, I fear that I won't be able to provide. If it's closure–"
Augustine's arm sprung up, more of a reflex than a conscious decision. In a split second, he was ramming his fist into Lysandre's face before either of them could react. Something gave in with a crack, snapping him out of it at the same time as Lysandre let out a low, pained cry.
Then his nose started bleeding.
"Merde, I'm sorry," Augustine said, his frustration evaporating all at once. "Do you, huh..."
Lysandre was pressing his palm up against his nostrils to try and impede the trickle. At least it didn't seem too serious. Augustine had no idea he could even muster enough strength to break someone's nose, with or without the element of surprise.
When he met Lysandre's eyes, he expected them to be filled with thinly contained rage. Instead, they were dark and clouded with what Augustine could only describe as arousal. His slight frown seemed to be born more out of confusion than any sort of vexation. Before either of them could speak, the Aether employee ran up to stand between them. He appeared to be the most shaken up by what had just gone down.
Augustine didn't even bother to try to justify himself. He shook his head and, without waiting to be admonished, shot Lysandre one last look – took in the pallor of his cheeks, the way his shoulders were leaned back to allow him to curl forward a bit as he kept his hand carefully cupped over his mouth even as the flow had stopped – and turned to leave.
Colress and the others would be disappointed that he had nothing of interest to report, but he'd seen enough to know this wasn't worth any more of his time.
Once he'd made it clear he wasn't interested in trying to pursue this Lysandre anymore, Augustine dedicated himself to enjoying his impromptu alolan vacation – and quickly found himself growing restless. He'd be assisting Dexio in his studies, or chatting up Professor Kukui about what he was currently working on, or even lazing around on the beach, and he wouldn't be able to stop his thoughts from drifting toward this other Lysandre he'd punched in the face.
He'd never even dreamed of punching his Lysandre in the face.
Well, maybe that was a lie. He'd dreamed of it, once the dust had settled. Before then, it had never crossed his mind. He'd been either too busy swallowing every single lie he was being fed, or too lost in his grief and anguish from learning the truth.
The look on Lysandre's face kept replaying in his head. It was one he'd seen before, so long ago it might as well have never happened; one he'd tried desperately to make himself forget. Though perhaps he hadn't been trying very hard, in the end. After all, he'd rushed to see Lysandre again at the first opportunity.
Pathetic, really.
He was still ruminating on that thought when Colress contacted him to let him know they'd received a message from one of their moles. Lysandre wanted to meet him, on the sly this time. There would be a short window a few nights away, near the facility's entrance, where he could come out to talk.
Colress told him it was his choice to make, but Augustine wasn't an idiot. He knew they wanted him to go, in case it could help them garner more information.
At least, that way, he could tell himself he was doing it for their sake and not his.
He didn't give himself time to overthink it. He didn't even mention it to Sina and Dexio, to spare himself unnecessary conversations. On a clear, sweltering night, wearing one of the light shirts he'd bought on one of his impromptu shopping sprees, he made his way there, alone.
Lysandre's silhouette was unmistakable. He could have recognized him anywhere. They used to joke that he was related to alolan exeggutors, and now there he was, standing on alolan soil, his face barely illuminated by the moonlight. Augustine closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath before breaching the distance left between them.
"Professor," Lysandre greeted him with a nod. "I will admit, I didn't think you would come."
"It was a spur-of-the-moment decision." Augustine found himself staring at Lysandre's neck to avoid the risk of meeting his eyes. "I'm surprised you wanted to see me after our... encounter."
"Ah, well." Lysandre chuckled, though it lacked humor. "What can I say? I am an unpredictable man."
They didn't say anything for several seconds. Augustine counted his own heartbeats in the silence that ensued. At this hour, on that bright white artificial island, there was no sign of life around them. The only sound he could hear was the light swirling of the waves below.
Lysandre cleared his throat. "I'd like to apologize for my lack of manners. To tell you the truth, I was less prepared to see you than I thought myself to be." Augustine blinked up at him, and Lysandre's gaze softened, just barely. "You are not the only one grieving, as I'm sure you assume."
He did, yet hearing it confirmed hit Augustine harder than he'd expected. Of course the Augustine that this Lysandre knew would be dead, if this was indeed a Lysandre who'd come out victorious. His heartbeat picked up, and he felt a chill run down his spine despite the heat.
"It appears I underestimated how much I missed you." Lysandre's mouth trembled into the beginning of a smile as he spoke, his expression torn between pity and, strangely, relief. "Or, I suppose, how much I missed him."
"I don't even know whether he's dead or not," Augustine admitted before he could stop himself. The words still hurt to say. "I don't know if that's better or worse. I thought– I really thought I'd be able to see him again, too."
"I must make for a poor replacement. It was not my intention to deceive you." Lysandre tilted his head, staring into the horizon, beyond the waves. "I was brought here against my will. You'll find this amusing, I believe: I never got to enjoy what I'd worked so hard to create. I was taken here before I could witness my beautiful world."
His laugh at that called to mind the pained rasp of a wounded pokémon. Rather than try to come up with an answer, Augustine let his gaze linger on Lysandre's features, taking advantage of his distracted state, drinking in the supple weight of his thick eyelashes, the characteristic shape of his nose, the fullness of his lips, to commit them to memory for later. It was only fair.
"What was it like, for you and him?" Lysandre asked. He didn't need to specify what he meant; Augustine understood it all too well.
"I thought we were in love," he said, plain and simple. "Obviously, I was mistaken."
Lysandre's eyes flickered back toward him.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that. To me, and, I gather, to him as well, there were many things we put after our sense of duty. Such a steep sacrifice is the burden of a true hero, as it were." This time, the corners of his lips twitched up into a real smile, an honest one that reminded Augustine of kinder days. "Wouldn't you think?"
"There's no point in puzzling it over. I've wasted enough sleepless nights." He shook his head. "What's done is done, and what's gone is gone."
He thought Lysandre would insist on speaking of the past, interrogate him on what had happened to the Lysandre of this world. He didn't. Instead, he stroked his beard and moved on to explain what, exactly, they had been planning in that strange castle that had erupted out of nowhere. He gave Augustine a rundown of everything, from his estimate of the number of people involved to the basic layout of the place, and his impression of the other colorful characters he'd been forced to work with.
The unreality of it washed over Augustine as if he was dreaming while awake. He laughed under his breath at Lysandre's obvious annoyance with his "colleagues", and nodded with curious interest at his recollections of the latest happenings. It felt so much like reuniting with an old friend, he found himself almost forgetting where he was and who he was with, until finally, Lysandre looked back toward the entrance, his hands clasped behind his back.
"That'll be all," he said. "I'd rather not arouse further suspicion." He smiled at Augustine, who couldn't help but smile back. "It really was a pleasure to see you, Professor."
"I forgot to apologize." Lysandre eyed him quizzically. "For punching you! I'm sorry."
Lysandre scoffed. Then, to Augustine's astonishment, he winked at him. "I deserved it."
With that, he turned around, to walk back to the facility, and the castle within. Augustine stood at the edge of the dock to watch him disappear back inside and tried to ignore the twinge of regret in his guts.
It was all quite a messy affair, after that, though Augustine was spared from most of it. A group of children, who'd recently been traveling through the region following the local traditions that Professor Kukui had told him about, ended up doing most of the work. The familiarity of it filled Augustine with unease. There was something to be said about the way kids always ended up at the forefront of these events, somehow. It made Augustine feel even older than he was, and a whole lot more pathetic.
He told himself it was for the best. It wasn't as if he'd had any illusions about getting to see Lysandre again – whichever one he was thinking of. He'd been granted far more than he expected. He told himself that, hunched over on Sina and Dexio's couch, holding back from screaming until his lungs gave out.
Parallel universes. What a joke, and at his expense, too.
Dexio brewed him enough coffee to kill a man, and Sina sat next to him and pretended not to notice when he started to tear up while they kept discussing their latest findings. It could have been worse. He'd gotten some good out of it.
He was beginning to believe it when Colress gave him a call. Even seeing his face, Augustine could hear the bitterness in his voice as he informed him of the latest developments. They'd managed to take the whole thing down and send everyone back where they belonged, or so they said. Augustine ran his fingers through his hair and pretended to be fine with that.
"I guess I'd better go home, then," he said. He'd aimed for light-hearted, but Colress's silence was all he needed to know he'd failed. "Glad I could help."
"Actually," Colress replied, his voice uncharacteristically soft, "there is something else you need to know."
Augustine's heart skipped a beat. He stood up and, grateful that Sina and Dexio had left on a research trip, opened the door to let himself out.
"You're staying in Heahea City, correct?" Colress didn't wait for his answer. "Someone is waiting for you at the Ferry Terminal. I'd love to stay and chat, but..."
"Thank you," was all that Augustine said before hanging up.
The sun was beating down on him, its weight settling over the back of his neck and rolling down his spine. He hadn't even thought to take his hat with him, or the sunglasses he'd borrowed from Dexio. He almost tripped over a stone on the pavement as he crossed the street, causing a few passersby to stop and check he was alright. Augustine mumbled something about being in a rush that none of them seemed to find reassuring, and nearly stumbled again, over his own feet, when he spotted him, his hair flowing in the sea breeze like a crackling campfire. He'd dressed down, a light orange shirt and pants that looked too short for his legs, and he'd tied his hair back, but he was impossible to miss.
Lysandre turned around, his eyes narrowed from the inescapable glare of the alolan sun, something like a smile hovering over his lips.
"Professor," he said with a nod as soon as Augustine had joined him, "it's good to see you."
He looked so innocuous that Augustine wasn't sure how to react. "You're not going back?"
"It seems the process is uncertain, and the risk didn't seem worth the possibility of it failing."
"So you're staying?"
Lysandre's brow furrowed, his gaze drifting away. His embarrassed demeanor was so reminiscent of the Lysandre that Augustine remembered that he couldn't hold on to his anger.
"If you'll have me," Lysandre murmured.
They would wrestle with this later, Augustine thought, with their griefs and their differences, and the weight of everything Lysandre had done, in either of their worlds. They would wrestle with the others, too, whose reactions would be more than justified.
Later. For now, Augustine reached out for Lysandre's arm, and gripped it tight.
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Date: 2024-09-03 08:38 am (UTC)Faut pas gacher une seconde chance ! Miam miam tout l'angst de l'histoire en tout cas !
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Date: 2024-10-16 05:14 pm (UTC)