Contents:
Wesley
Obvious exits:
Out <O> leads to Fuchsia City: Lapras Ledge.

A light rain falls from a grey sky. It's warm and there's a slight wind from the southeast. In the forest, raindrops patter against the leaves, and glisten like silver beads on their deep green surfaces. The wet tree trunks have darkened from grey to brown. While at the coast, the rain dances on the surface of the playful blue ocean gently.

The door to the PokeCenter is flung open, and a teenage girl practically flings herself inside, sending water droplets spraying in all directions - possibly hitting anybody near her. Right behind her scampers a little purple pokemon, squealing softly, "Nido! Nidoran! Nido!" Given the rainy weather outside, the girl seems very unfittingly dressed - her short sleeve blue t-shirt and her black shorts are now completely soaking wet, and her white sneakers are covered in mud. The door slams shut, and Melissa rubs a hand through her dripping wet hair before approaching the Nurse Joy at the desk to inquire about getting a towel and maybe a hot bath. Her Nidoran is right on her tail.

A Meowth kitten starts to chew on the database -- better save, quick! (Saving)

While it's not too cruddy a day outside to deter those serious about training their pokemon or battling in the tournament, it is perhaps enough to keep those others indoors and dry. Add to this the recent tournament, and this Pokemon Center is fairly crowded. Most people are solitary except for their pokemon, though a few clusters have formed as people chat about the weather and such. One group, with suspiciously colour-coordinated clothes (maybe they're part of a team?) have a card game going on by some couches near the door with a Pidgey and Slowpoke watching intently - the players glance up as Melissa enters, but their attention is soon back to their pursuit. Unbeknownst to many, a young, blonde and pale boy sleeps in the area, on a couch near the back. Perhaps no one's woken him because they just don't notice him, or don't want to disturb him, sprawled out and peaceful looking as he is. His only companion is a Drowzee, who clutches in his hand a piece of paper and glances quizzically over at Melissa as she enters. He blinks, and then smiles. It's..not a nice expression.

Due to the crowded center, Melissa has to wait in line - not too long, but she still stands there, dripping wet for a short while as Joy heals this pokemon, comforts that boy, and does other Nurse Joyly activies. She does eventually get her towel (three, in fact), but due to other trainers in the same cold, wet state as Melissa, the showers are going to be occupied for some state now. With a small nod, the teenager makes her way over to a vacant chair - not far at all away from Wesley and ThoughtThief - her Nidoran bounding behind her. Plunking down on the chair, the Pewter girl proceeds to dry not only herself off but Puff, who just hopped onto her lap, as well.

The Drowzee is one ThoughtThief by name, and his eyes follow Melissa as she moves and sits down. The Drowzee's grin turns to a frown and he taps his right foot lightly on the floor in thought. His eyes trail over to the paper he has in his three-fingered hand. Wesley, meanwhile, mumbles a bit in his sleep, arching his neck and back. ThoughtThief reaches up a hand to steady the boy and murmurs his species name softly, his words reverberating with mystical power as he releases some of his psychic energy to keep his trainer in the depths of sleep. The boy quiets and stirs no more. A young girl with a Rattata peers over at the Drowzee suspiciously, and he grins disarmingly and shrugs. <He's just tuckered out from the tournament, poor boy - the loss hit him hard,> he says; the Rattata translates, and the lie is believed by the young lass, perhaps the only witness to this odd form of trainer abuse. And now ThoughtThief moves through the crowd, towards Melissa. Whether she sees him do so or not, he will greet her with a low <greetings,> and wave with his paper-free hand at her.

Though she is occupied for a short time in drying off the grateful little Nidoran, whose content little peeps and chirps send a little smile to Melissa's face despite her otherwise miserable conidition, Melissa does eventually take a glance around the center after clearing of her glasses with the towel. She begins taking in all the different kinds of people, socializing, playing cards, and having discussions with other humans and pokemon - sometimes both at once. Her eyes do eventually fall upon ThoughtThief, and she reflexively gives him a second look - especially since he's apparently talking and waving at her. After a moment's pause, the small smile on the girl's face increases slightly, and she asks the psychic, "... Th-ThoughThief, is that you?" The Nidoran instantly responds with a quiet, <Keep drying me off! It feels really warm!>

ThoughtThief looks up at the wet teenager suspiciously before nodding once. Well, at least she knows who he is, but communicating with her is going to be troublesome, from what (fortunately) little he's had to do of it. <Hey, listen, Nidoran,> he says curtly to Puff, his manner business-like but with a faint undercurrent of hostility, as if he just /knows/ he'll have to explain it twice. <Try to translate this, and make sure she gets it. I'm asking for her help. I want her,> and glance and a gesture with his free hand is given to Melissa <to help me,> he points to himself, <with this,> and one final point is given to the paper. <Ask her to read it /out loud/ to me. I believe it has information concerning my future, and I really need to know it.> He waits for a translation and then a response, staring up at Melissa with the stare of one who, while not trying to look outwardly mean, hasn't had much practice looking bright, chipper and any of those things that make a person warm up to another

"Shh, Puff," Melissa whispers to her Nidoran, rubbing him just a little more. "I'll... dry you off a little more, um, after I know whether Wesley's here or, um, or not." She turns back to the trunk-nosed pokemon. While the Drowzee speaks, Melissa - who knows something like one word of 'Drowzee' - uses this opportunity to wipes her face with the towel, including her glasses which were beginning to mist up slightly. After the psychic is presumably finished, Melissa whispers, before Puff can speak, "Let's practice my understanding you, um, Puff." The Nidoran, in the meantime, is just sort of blinking at ThoughtThief mindlessly. Almost mechanically, he turns his gaze up, and chirps, <Um, he wants you to read that thing because it... uh, it 'has information concerning his future'.>

At Melissa's mistranslation of Puff's words, ThoughtThief snorts and rolls his eyes, though his annoyance fades into excitement as Melissa agrees to read it. That tooth-bearing grin comes back on the Drowzee's face, and he can't quite contain the cunning look in his eyes as he holds the paper up for Melissa to take. The paper itself is a bit grayed and smudged with age, the ink used to write it a bit faded, though it's still legible. It's wrinkled, with a fold or two where it there wasn't one when it was originally folded; it's original folds consist or two horizontal creases. It looks a bit like a letter someone would send, but obviously there's no envelope. If it /is/ news about the Drowzee, it sure seems to be old news. Wesley shifts his position slightly on the couch, his eyes flicking beneath his eyelids. Rattata girl looks over at him, but only notes that indeed, he does seem to be quite tired. The team of card-players and happy chit-chatters go on, the transaction between the girl, the Drowzee and the Nidoran being nothing that will catch their attention except for a cursory glance.

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Dearest Wesley, 
When I think of you all I see is a tiny child of two years,with straw 
blond hair and flashing grey eyes. And a smile that could warm the heart 
of anyone, from the head of Team Rocket to a herd of charging Tauros. I 
long to see your smile again, my beautiful son. I know you could not have 
seen my other letters, or else you would have written. Yet, I'll still 
try to reach you. Or would you write back? I know almost nothing about 
the person you are today. For that, I curse myself every night. I look 
back on that night I left and I wish I could turn back time. Are you 
doing your father any good? Has he told you he loves you? What does he 
tell you about me? What has he been teaching you about life? Do you 
still smile? So many questions. I never would have had them if I'd 
taken you with me. I'm almost ashamed to admit that I am happy where 
I am. With Jack. What has your father told you about him? I suppose 
it's best not to speak of him just yet. I live on Seafoam Island. My 
address is 338 Seaside Blvd. Please, come visit me. You cannot go 
while you live with your father; on your trainer journey you can 
see me. I know you will be going on one; with Thomas as your father 
how could you not? Unless he's teaching you to stay away from pokemon 
all together, so you cannot suffer what he did. If only I knew. So 
many questions. Please come meet with me, my son. My life would be 
pure bliss if I could just see your face again. 
Your loving mother, Amanda Belton

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Melissa has to lean over a little, right in front of a snoozing bald man with a baby Geodude fast asleep on his fat lap. She takes the piece of paper in her hand, and it's only then that she realizes just how old this paper must be - it feels so wrinkled and old, Melissa has to blink once or twice before reeling the catch back in. She gives ThoughtThief a glance out of the corner of her eye, before reading word for word. Every word seems to have a little extra passion, and it seems more like Melissa's not just looking at words on a paper, but reciting the words with the same vigor the writer intentioned. Ms. Barlette speaks every single word up to "that night that I left" before sort of trailing off into silence, now reviewing the letter in complete silence. Puff glances up at his trainer, wondering why she seemed to stop so abruptly. <Can you still read it, Melissa? Why did you stop?> He is, expectedly, ignored.

ThoughtThief is too busy absorbing the information from Melissa's read to make any comments as she goes through the letter. As the teen does so, he nods lightly to parts he remembers hearing about, his ears constantly perked as he drags in new information. His eyes are narrowed intently, and he looks like he's trying to remember every word. The grin - that sneaky, nasty little grin - does not leave his trunked face...until Melissa stops her orration. It turns into a frown, his eyes narrowing even more, not due to the intensity of his memorization, but due to Melissa's silence. <Continue,> he says, shortly and coldly, making an curt 'go ahead' gesture for the girl's benefit. <I /need/ to know this,> he adds, each word heavy and cold like a chunk of ice. Apparently he's expecting the words to be translated by Puff - either that, or he's asuming Melissa's smarter than he usually thinks she is and can understand his intent.

A Meowth kitten starts to chew on the database -- better save, quick! (Saving)

Melissa doesn't even look up when ThoughtThief speaks, her lips silently speaking the words on the paper. Puff is also quiet for a few moments - before he blinks and realizes that Melissa can't understand the psychic. <Melissa?> No reply. <Melissa?!> No reply. With a little growl, Puff bites - not too hard, but enough to get her attention - on his trainer's hand. This invokes a reply, definitely. "Ow! Puff! Why-" <He wants you to read out loud!> "... Huh?" Then she glances over at the cross Drowzee, blushes softly, and mutters, "Oh, um, oh, sorry. Um, uh, um..." She glances over the paper softly, and begins. "What has he been teaching you about life?" She's skipped a few lines on accident, but she won't stop until the end unless ThoughtThief (or Puff) grabs her attention.

ThoughtThief frowns and gives another curt nod, eyeing Melissa with more suspicion than before. She did start at a place where it's obvious she /did/ skip a few lines. Though it's nice to know that his cold and hard expression does melt as his thoughts turn, once more, to memorization. As Melissa finally finishes, the Drowzee slowly contemplates the letter. <So she's 'happy', but she dumped her kid,> he says, not caring if Puff hears and translates. <Freak,> is his assessment of the writer. He looks over at Melissa again. <Now if you'll be so kind as to go from where you left off - I believe you skipped a line or two? Heh, for all I know this 'he' that's s'posda teach the kid something about life was that Venusaur he always whines about...>

Melissa is completely unaware of Wesley's waking and ThoughtThief's grumbling at Amanda as she comes to a close, sits back in the chair, and just thinks for a little bit, peering blankly ahead, lost in thought. Puff drags her back to planet Earth as he paratranslates the Drowzee's words, squeaking, <He says you missed a little be and wants you to read it!> Melissa blinks, looks over at the psychic, then glances down at the paper. "I... um... I must have missed it... somewhere around where I started rereading... um..." After a few moments, the Pewter girl begins to read again, although this time she starts at "I know you could not have seen my other letters" and finally comes to a close at "Do you still smile?". She now glances over at the Drowzee, all the while churning through thoughts in her mind. The Pokemon Center is completely silent to her.

Wesley rallies his mental defenses to fight off sleep. It's rather easy when your hand feels like it's been dunked in cold fire. He half sits up, half leans against the couch-back. Blink. Blink. His good hand goes up to rub the sleep from his eyes before being set limply at his side. "Tha's weird, how long was I out?" he questions, before giving a jaw-cracking yawn, without even trying to cover his mouth with his hand. "I said, how long was I out?" he repeats, before turning his eyes downwards and scanning around the couch. "Fistfight?" he asks. No Machop. "ThoughtThief?" No Drowzee, either, because ThoughtThief is currently occupied. The Drowzee's rude little smirk turns to something more approaching a pleased smile, though the pleasure lies solely in his own abilities to learn the contents of the secret letter and not with Melissa's performance. <Good girl!> he says, with a slow, slimy chuckle. <I did need to know that. If I'm gonna be the boy's keeper once Fistfight kicks the life-givin' bucket,> he even illustrates by kicking an imaginary bucket <I gotta know things about him that love-crazed overprotective fighter and the emotionally retarded boy won't tell me.> He chortles. <I'm too clever,> he praises himself. He's rather upbeat, considering what he's just heard.

Melissa, still unaware of Wesley's awakening (the fat man sitting next to her is blocking her view of him, and what attention isn't focused on the letter is directed towards ThoughtThief. The girl can only shake her head softly, turning down to Puff for a translation. When the Nidoran fails to give on, she quietly asks, "What... did he say, Puff?" The purple pokemon only shakes his head, and he doesn't look up at Melissa as he replies, <I... don't know. I don't understand what he's saying. I think he's saying you're 'good' and he likes you, but he doesn't like Wesley.> Now he glances up at Melissa, suggesting, <Maybe he wants you to be his trainer?> Melissa only peers at her Nidoran for a moment, before glancing at the Drowzee. "ThoughtThief," she says, almost sternly, "Why didn't Wesley tell me any of this before? And, um... why..." And then she pauses for a moment. It sinks in. "You..." She puts a hand up to her forehead, a completely shocked look on her face. "I... wasn't supposed to read that... was I?" A pause. "And y-you weren't supposed to know! Oh, God!" She falls back into her chair, lifting her other hand to rub her face with her palms, not even taking off her glasses first. "Where's Wesley?" she asks, still pressing her face with her hands. Others begin to glance at her, but she doesn't care.

Wesley looks an odd picture; frowning in confusion, his eyes still a bit glazed with sleep, his hair touseled. Wherever could his pokemon be? He's so used to having them by his side that he feels naked without them. At least his hand's getting better. He flexes it gingerly, grimacing lightly. And then some sneaky, black little thought dawns on him - wasn't he holding something in that hand before he felt so sleepy? Wesley's mind scrambles to figure out what it was, though by the look of panic on his face, some part of him already knows. His tongue licks at his lips as his mouth goes dry, his grey eyes scramble frantically over the couch. His hands are soon occupied in searching in between the couch cushions, and to do so more effectively he stands up, though is soon bent over the couch. Rattata Girl looks at him curiously.

Melissa's right hand pushes up into her wet hair, allowing her to just sort of peer at the Drowzee with one eye. "Mph. Puff?" The Nidoran glances at her, as though he doesn't know what she's suggesting, but he quickly catches on. <Oh! He, uh, he thinks you're really smart and he wants you to give him the letter and pretend you never read it to him!> Melissa just -blinks-, before sitting up in her chair in a very rapid motion. Puff jumps. "F... Forget about it?" Melissa practically growls. "I can't... just... He... This... This is -Wes..." And, finally, she glares daggers at the Drowzee. How enchanting. "You were not supposed to know that, were you? Were you? I... I wasn't s-s-supposed to know either!" Isn't this ironic - for the first time ever, ThoughtThief's actually not hating Melissa - and now it looks like she's hating him!

"No, no, no, no..." Wesley hisses in frustration underneath his breath as he searches. The Rattata murmurs something to its trainer, and the girl nods slowly. "Uh, sir, your Drowzee went that way," she says, raising her voice shyly and nodding to where ThoughtThief is. Wesley spins around abruptly, and the two youngsters stare at each other. "Just my Drowzee?" he says sharply. "Y..yes.." the girl responds, perhaps stunned by his vehemence. "Did he have anything on him?" The girl thinks. "Uh..I think something..." she says, but trails off. She has reason to be even more stunned as Wesley's face turns to a level of cold previously undefined. It's ghostly white, his jaw clenched, his wide eyes bulging, while his body is rigid. He gives another abrupt spin to go to where the girl indicated. His eyes are at floor level, to better catch his Drowzee.

A Meowth kitten starts to chew on the database -- better save, quick! (Saving)

Melissa glares more at ThoughtThief behind her glasses, crossing her hands across her chest. "No," she replies without receiving a translation from Puff, understanding what the Drowzee is trying to say by his hand gestures. "Wh... Where is he, anyway?" Grabbing Puff none-too-softly, the girl stands up, the towels falling to the floor in a heap. "I'm... going to return it to him, uh, myself, and... and explain the entire thing! Where is he? Huh? W... Where is he?" It's only now that she gives the Drowzee a chance to reply.

<Like I'm telling you where he is!> ThoughtThief hisses in reply, his hand falling to his side and joining his other hand into bunching into a fist. His fearful attitude is gone in the wake of Melissa's defiance. His voice is that of a belligerent street punk, completely sure of his own intimidation tactics. <Unless you want me to blast your pokemon so hard with mental juice he'll wake up screamin' every night of his life,> he motions, descriptively, from his head to Puff's body, <you give the thing to me! Or maybe I'll give you a taste of it too, eh?!> He even steps forward a bit, an ugly sneer on his features. Yes, he stood by her when she was down when she and Wesley last met, but /that/ was only because he was an idiot! He takes another step closer...

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Melissa knows entirely well that the ThoughtThief is not hissing at her things like <You're nice> and <I think you're really cute>. No, he's definitely threatening her - and she doesn't care, even when ThoughtThief takes a step forward. "You..." But then she stops. Wesley shows up on the scene and grabs ThoughtThief. The girl just -stares-, and Puff is instantly dropped. <Oomph!> She still clutches the letter in her hand, however - and now she has absolutely no idea what to do. She simply stares, somewhat flabbergasted, making very few noises and looking almost silly with her mouth wide open. When she does make a sound, it's very babbly noise that doesn't make any sense at all.

Wesley's hands continue to claw into his Drowzee's shoulder as he shakes, muscles straining to keep his body under control. ThoughtThief's eyes now narrow, and turns his whole body to face his trainer in a show of defiance against his trainer. "You took my /letter/, /my/ letter, you...you..." Wesley still struggles with his words, as if it takes a conscious effort to speak and not to scream incoherently while kicking his psychic pokemon. His formerly bloodless face is turning a boiled pink, showing more colour than most people would ever see on that area. His cheeks are now big flaming blotches, the redness spreading over his grimacing lips. "If you..if you even /looked/ at it, I'll...I'll.." He doesn't finish his thought. Melissa's babble has pierced Wesley's ears, which had been awaiting a response from ThoughtThief. The Drowzee turns to Melissa. Jerkily, robotically, Wesley's head turns too. His face is still pink and blotchy, but for now his response is the same as Melissa's - his mouth is open, and he stares up at her.

Melissa's anger dissipates into the air as she begins to tremble softly. Her wet hair, flung forward by her sudden leap up, is now in front of her shoulders, and it covers her ears and part of her right cheek. Her soggy shirt and shorts are now starting to get cold, though they don't drip any more. She seems completely unaware of how uncomfortable she -should- be as she simply peers at Wesley. It takes every bit of courage she has - but she's been through a lot, and her ability to fight emotions has begun to strengthen over the months. "I... looked at it, Wesley..." she whispers softly, trembling even further and jamming her eyes shut. "I... d-did-didn't know... wh-what it would s-say... And, um, I, um, um, um, I didn't even know-" Shake shake. She opens her mouth to say something, but can't manage the words - but it's probable Wesley's going to react somehow by this point anyway.

Wesley now has to struggle with his shock. The clenching hands go limp, and ThoughtThief takes in a deep breath in relief. Wesley still remains at an awkwardly bent angle, though, as if he's unwilling to let go of his Drowzee that easilly. His mouth opens and closes, once, twice, three times - his lips can't even form words. His face turns back to its normal, pale whiteness, and his hands begin to tremble. His look is no longer shocked; the one he gives Melissa is a fearful, humiliated. Someone else knows...about what was his cross to bear. It was his, it was private, it was something to think over, only when he chose to, it was..while not a precious, special circumstance, it was his. Though he can't put that into words, he eventually stammers something out. "M-M..Melissa..I.." His eyes shimmer now, and Melissa blurs in his vision as water tries to seep out of his eyes and fall down his face. It doesn't happen, yet. <I needed to find out what was in it,> ThoughtThief says suddenly. <I found her and asked her. It coulda been any random stranger. It wasn't. It was your best friend.> He speaks like a used car salesman. Wesley doesn't seem to find his words comforting; he doesn't even seem to hear them.

Melissa just sort of shakes her head a little, bring up a hand to smear across her face. She ends up biting down - rather hard - near the wrist on the pinkie's side. She seriously does not know what to say - and what can she say? Only the truth. "He... asked me to read it," she says softly, completely marveled at how she can actually manage to do so. She might be interrupting a little of ThoughtThief's used-car-salesman conversation, but that's because she can't understand it. "And... I didn't... know, but you didn't... he..." She chomps down upon her hand once again, a rather odd way of relieving her aggression. Puff, in the meantime, just squeaks an inappropriate, <Ow. Hey, that hurt!> at his trainer. Rightfully so, he is ignored.

A Meowth kitten starts to chew on the database -- better save, quick! (Saving)

Wesley straightens up, looking between Melissa and ThoughtThief. He looks lost..scared, though that's mostly the effect of the two tears that leak from his eyes and trail down his face. His breath is shakey when he draws it as his back and his guts twist and spasm minutely. His arms cross over his chest - not defiantly as one might think, but in an unconscious gesture humans are programmed with to protect their vulnerable insides. And that's just what Wesley feels; vulnerable. "And...you read /all/ of it?" he asks. Stupid question. "I..it was mine and...I'm...Why, why did you need to have it read?" This question is delivered to ThoughtThief. <Because you kept /hiding/ it from me! Saying I wasn't ready to see it, or that you'd tell me when you were ready!> ThoughtThief blurts out, angrilly. <And I know you, brat; you'll never /be/ ready. You're too /weak/ for that.> He's angry - angry at that his perfect plan has gone awry. Though his voice doesn't rise to a shout, though it is harsh, some people are staring over at the group. <If she could see you now, she'd be glad you left!> Wesley's jaw goes slack. He stands frozen, his lips trembling, more tears joining their brothers down his face as he screws up his face.

Melissa just looks at Wesley for a moment, rubbing her hand into her mouth a little more. She feels like she's done something like killed Fistfight or cursed and yelled at him or something every bit as horrible and nasty. In her mind, she's taken his soul and exposed it to the world before tearing it in half and stomping on the broken pieces. "God, Wesley..." she whispers into her hand. And then ThoughtThief starts. She can't understand a word of what the psychic is saying - but he's not cheerful. And Wesley's horrified expression actually draws tears. No - Melissa can cry. She's weak and has no control. But not Wesley... No. He shouldn't. He just can't... And it's all the Drowzee's fault. "You!" Melissa cries suddenly, bitterly biting down on her lip and pointing an accusing finger at the pokemon. "W-w-w-w-w-what did you say to him? Huh?" Puff squeaks up, beginning to translate, but Melissa shushes him with her free hand. "What are... are you saying? Huh? Answer me! Answer me!" She's getting very loud right now - but she's completely ignorant to anybody else in the center. She's probably never been so angry before - but seeing as how she has just crushed Wesley all thanks to that Drowzee, it seems only fitting in her mind that she should scream and shout at the psychic pokemon.

ThoughtThief just looks over at Melissa - now it's his turn to be shocked. He wasn't quite aware that the girl had a backbone (in his mind, very few people do) and now she's displaying it for everyone to see. <One little letter!> he says, giving an amused, amazed chuckle. <All I'm saying is the truth, girly, that's it. A boy's gotta hear it if he's even gonna grow into something like a man.> He sounds like he's telling the truth himself. Telling it as he sees it. Either he's turned his vicious comment around in his mind and it came out as something 'that needed to be done' or he believed he was doing so from the beginning. <Not like it's gonna happen with him,> ThoughtThief adds with a sneer. Wesley's face is white, a trembling hand moving up to it, making a weak attempt to wipe away his tears. He hasn't noticed those staring at him, or the whispers of pokemon as they translate his Drowzee's words for their trainers. "Melissa.." he murmurs, almost moans. He bites back a sob, a tear-stained hand held out to her. Perhaps to congratulate her for defending him? In supplication? In a desperate need just to have some sort of human contact with the girl he loves as his best friend?

Melissa glares at ThoughtThief a little more, and opens her mouth to bark something more at him - but Wesley distracts her as he stretches out his hand. She glances at ThoughtThief, then Wesley, ThoughtThief, Wesley, ThoughtThief, Wesley. With a little sigh, Melissa's anger vanishes once more into the air, and she clutches at his hand, stepping forward so that she holds it close to her chest, still wet from the rain. "Wesley!" she whispers loudly, looking right into those tear drenched eyes, even if they don't look back. "I... I-I'm so sorry... but... b-but I... I'll help you! W...W...We..." Her fingers tighten around the younger boy's own, presuming he hasn't yanked his hand back yet. "We'll go see Aman... Amanda... together!" All the while, Puff is just sort of peering up at his trainer and ThoughtThief's, as though the two humans are crazy.

>> Oo, Wesley looked at you. Why not write a book about him? <<

As Melissa takes his hand, Wesley's hand clenches and tightens around hers. He sniffles a bit, his other hand wiping away the tears from his face, which is wet and sticky and smelling of salt. No other tears immediately follow; a good sign. His face is turned upwards, his grey eyes staring directly into her light blue ones. A warm thrill goes through the boy - here is someone who cares for him. He doesn't have to question it, mull over it, wonder if she does - he just knows it. Certainty suddenly seems like something he's quite short of. His breath is still short and shuddering; it's hard to get over the physical effects of crying that easily. But his face is slowly regaining its composure. And as Melissa says they'll find his mother, it freezes. His damp hand tightens; his body freezes. His mother's name - it's so close to sacred, and she just said it. And going to find the owner of that sacred name... "M-Melissa, I..I don't think I can..not, not now. I just don't think so. May..maybe sometime. But..please Melissa, not now. Not now." He's begging now, his whispers desperate, little head shakes added to his speech. ThoughtThief is silent. Mercifully silent.

Melissa looks at Wesley a little more, clenching his hand against her chest even tigher, almost as if letting go will sending Wesley hurling into an abyss. She's not quite as frozen as her best friend is, and very soon after Wesley finishes his pleading "Not now", Melissa nods softly and whispers, "I... understand." Suddenly, she feels like she's on the same plane as Wesley, and with a blink of realization, she quietly says, "I know... what it feels like... to... to not... want to... to solve a personal problem, it's... hard, I know, but... but..." And she gives a little sigh here, somehow feeling almost... wise. A strange feeling, to be sure. "But when... when you do-" No if? "-Just... tell me. You can, um, you can go... alone, or with me, or... or... Just... you can't... hide from it, Wesley. You'll feel..." And then she gives a little sigh, turns her wet head to the side, and glances down. "... Relieved to let it out."

A Meowth kitten starts to chew on the database -- better save, quick! (Saving)

Wesley /knew/ Melissa would come up with something to help him out. She's older, smarter, and an all around good person. It's not quite what he wants to hear...but, at least he knows it's not just Fistfight's opinion. Fistfight's smart, but she used to /be/ Amanda's pokemon - she was biased. He smiles softly, his breath, now a bit more regular, sniffling through his nose. "I will go, Melissa," he says in a whisper, as if this is a secret pact. His breathy voice has a thin undercurrent of conviction. "If, if you want..you can come and...see her. If you want. You..have no..no idea how much I've...wanted to." The last sentence comes out in an almost reverent hush, as he realizes, yes, he has wanted to. There's been some gap in his life he's wanted to fill, and he's only truly acknowledging it now. "I have..and.." his eyes mist over again with water, but he quickly wipes away the tears. "..Thank you," he whispers. "You are the best friend. Ever." His truthful, sincere face gives that statement weight.

Melissa nods softly to Wesley, giving him this soft, sad little smile. And though she doesn't say it, the expression on her face clearly says one thing: 'I feel the same about you'. She looks at her friend for a few moments more, her hands still clutching Wesley's one tightly. "I'll go," she whispers quietly, fighting hard not to cry herself. "Anywhere... Anywhere for you." And it's about now that she lets Wesley's hand go, not before giving it a quick little rub. "Wesley... I... really need to go..." For the first time since the conversation got so deep, Melissa tears her eyes off of her friend, glancing out the clear windows of the Pokemon Center at the rain, no less powerful than it was earlier. "It's... late, and... I... just... um... I've really... got to... go..." She needs to leave to think - and soon.

Wesley nods slowly. His smile still manages to stay on his face, but it's slowly fading against the onslaught of exhaustion. He's gone through too many emotions in one day. "Thank you," he repeats - the only thing he can really think of to say. As Melissa lets go of his hand, it willing returns to his side. And at Melissa's announcement, he blinks and looks over at the windows a second after his friend does. "Oh?" he says, curious for a split second before realizing that whatever time it is, it's probably later than he thinks. "Oh, right," he says. He gives Melissa a faint smile. "Well, don't let me keep you. I'll, uh, see you around." He shrugs vaguely before adding "..somewhere." He swallows and glances at Melissa. "Do..can I have my letter back?" he asks, his voice as neutral as he can make it. "And..oh!" a thought strikes "have you seen Fistfight?" <I put her in her pokeball,> ThoughtThief announces. "Oh, I see," Wesley says, nodding. "...You put her in her pokeball?" he repeats, sending a quick glare down ThoughtThief's way before shaking his head. His mind is too lazy and muddled to think up a punishment now.

Melissa blushes softly as Wesley thanks her - though funny that she wasn't reddening before. "Your... letter... Oh, um, right, right, it..." She glances down at the ground, and spots it instantly. She squats down, snatches it right up, and almost thrusts it into the boy's hand. She instantly makes a step for the door, but stops, pauses, and rotates her body. "I'll... see you again, Wesley." And she gives the boy a sly half smile, her cheeks reddening even further. "Soon." She glances down at her Nidoran, gestures to the door, and mumbles, "Let's go, Puff." And with that, she strides towards the door and thrusts it open - not before listening to Wesley, if he replies - before stepping out into the warm night's rain.