Brendan didn't know if he regretted what he had said to May. All he know was that she'd lied to him. Betrayed him. Caused the whole world to suffer. Potentially killing millions, even billions through her actions. He did know one thing though. He wasn't going to stay here.
The last few months they spent together, they all felt sour. She'd lied to him, maybe even manipulated him into being with her. Although he loved there little house, his love for her was dying every second. Like humanity lost the world, she'd lost him.
"You ready?" Sally asked. The woman looked happy to leave but the tension and atmosphere had clearly made her uneasy. She kept looking back to the house, watching and waiting for May to appear. But she didn't. May held up in her room. Brendan hadn't said a word to her since he told her that he 'should have let her die'. She hadn't said a word to him. She just watched him as he left the crying heap of mess which was May Birch.
"Lights fading. We have to go, Brendan." Sally looked almost apologetic as she jumped onto the Pelipper's back. "Have you changed your mind?"
"No." Brendan eventually replied. His voice was angry, sad, lifeless. Without another word, without another glance towards May looking out the bedroom window, Brendan jumped onto the Pelippers back and it began to fly into the air. He felt he should give May one last look. He know she would be watching. And yet he didn't. He couldn't. Looking at her would just hurt them both right now. She didn't deserve it. And yet. He felt guilty. But only for a second.
---
Brendan watched the seemingly endless sea. The world he'd grown to love so much. The forests, the trees, the routes littered and stuffed full to the brim with Pokemon. All was gone. Extinguished. Erased by a sea which covered the once green region. There wasn't any birds, there wasn't any mountains, there wasn't any islands. It was just water, water everywhere, covering everything.
It was getting darker every second. The water changed from a beautiful light blue to a Moonlite almost purple. Brendan made out the odd Tentacruel and Goldeen in the water but even they would struggled to survive in the primal storms.
Sally was concentrating on their destination. Brendan had learned that she came from a small settlement of survivors, most who lived in the mountains and had flying Pokémon had managed to escape the rising waters and horrific storms. She kept quiet most of the time, and when she did talk Brendan didn't reply. He was thinking or trying to not think. He just wanted to reach dry land. He would soon get his wish.
In the distance he could see a small landmass, about half a mile across either side. It was lite up by torches and Brendan could make out little tents and wooden shacks around the lights, as well as a small group of people and Pokémon. It felt like forever to get down there. Brendan could feel himself sweating and shaking as the lights and people grew bigger and bigger. Activity swelled as they approached the ground.
The Pelipper landed with a bang. It was exhausted after it's long flight. Brendan gave it a gentle stroke and thanked it as he disembarked onto dry land for the first time in hours. Sally waved at a few people and ran off with them, leaving Brendan alone. People watched and stared at him, some may have even recognised him as an up and coming Trainer.
However, a single man had approached Brendan. He was large, short and had a large white beard. Brendan recognised him as he came closer into the light. "Wattson?" Brendan called out towards the man. His white beard was much longer, his eyes frail and weak. He looked like the energy coursing through his veins had failed to keep working. He was tired and old but still managed to form a small smile towards Brendan.
"Brendan, you returned to us." Wattson's voice was quiet but cheerful. "I'm so pleased."
"Thank you," Brendan replied. "How many-"
"Don't concern yourself with that now." Wattson interrupted. I have someone who wants to see you."
Brendan raised an eyebrow. "Who?" He immediately asked.
Wattson shook his head sadly and gestured for Brendan to follow. He lead him through a crowd of people and into what looked like a rather sparse market area. Lamps lite up the small wooden benches and stalls with baskets of fruit and berries, the only food Brendan had seen around here. In the distance he could see a small field where the berries were grown. Everyone looked thin and hungry but no starving, just unhappy. A few homes had been quickly built, but most of the people live in tents on the outskirts of the main town. If you could call it a town. Brendan followed Wattson out and away from the main population and towards a shack right at the edge of the island. Wattson lifted up the material which he clearly considered as the entrance and stopped.
"He's in there. Waiting for you." Wattson said almost apologetically.
Brendan ducked and entered into the tent. As he brought his head up he saw a small bed lying on the ground, a few odd blankets covering the tall and strong body of the person inside it. Brendan glanced around his surroundings. It was dark and quiet, the only noise being the coughing coming from the man. On his left was a few half-berries and a glass of water, the right there was a group of small medicine and potions but they had all been used up. Brendan approached the man and looked towards him cautiously.
"Dad." Brendan mumbled out in surprise. "Dad!"
The boy rushed to his fathers side, throwing himself down onto his knees and staring into his fathers opening, weary, sick eyes. The ruby-brown colour had faded out of Norman. His once strong and stern expression, the one he wore everyday at the Gym, in battles, at home, was gone, replaced with a weak and pale glance at his son.
"Brendan." He whispered out. "Is that you?"
"Yes, Dad." Brendan replied, tears welling in his eyes. "I'm here. It's me."
"You're alive?"
"I'm alive, Dad." Brendan struggled to hold back his tears. "Is mum?"
"I'm sorry, son." Norman replied. Brendan threw his hand to his mouth and covered that hand with his other, tears streaming down his hands. "I couldn't get to her-"
"It's okay. I know." Brendan interrupted. "Save your strength."
"Brendan. Don't feel guilty." Norman managed to force out. "I know you did all you could down there. In that cave."
"Dad. I tried. I tried so hard."
"Brendan. I don't have long left." Norman used the last of his strength to sit up but struggled but Brendan ran to help. With Norman sat up he managed to grab Brendan and pull him close. He could tell that his son was full of emotions, anger, hatred, pain, sadness, grief, guilt. "I may have not been the best father too you but I'm proud of you. So proud. Whatever happened in that cave, it wasn't your fault."
"I know. I tried my best. But, May?" Brendan's fingers tucked into his hand to form a fist. "She said she got in the way, she said she freed Kyogre-"
"By accident?" Norman asked, his breathing becoming harder to maintain.
"Yeah. But-"
"Brendan. Why did she go into that cave?" Norman's eyes opened as far as they could, his bloody, scared hand pressed against his sons face as he waited for Brendan's reply. "She wanted to help you, didn't she?"
"Yes. She wanted to help me." Brendan was confused. He didn't have long left with his father. 'Why did he want to talk about this?' He thought.
"That little girl. She loves you Brendan, I saw it as soon as you walked in my gym with her." Brendan shook his head. "You know it too. She just wanted to be with you." Brendan got up from his dads side and turned away from him, slamming a hand into the wooden table.
"She caused it all."
"No."
Brendan sharply turned to his dead. "She said she did!"
"We all say things that aren't true, Brendan." Norman managed to smile but it was interrupted by a rough coughing fit. Brendan yet again went to his side. "Of course she blames herself." Norman paused. "Wouldn't you blame yourself?"
"But she freed Kyogre?" Brendan insisted. "Why would she lie?"
"She didn't lie. That's not what happened. She's a good person, and when bad things happen, good people blame themselves. Like you blamed yourself for not stopping Team Aqua in their headquarters." Norman grabbed his sons hand firmly and placed a metal PokeBall, warm and full of life, into his hand. "She needs you, Brendan. Go to her. Help her."
"Wait. How do you know about what happened in the cave?"
Norman smiled. "I know my son."
Brendan stared at him confused. He tried to process everything, his mother's death, his fathers last words too him, what Norman had said. He didn't understand. He knew so much about him. He knew all about what happened in the cave and Brendan's memory was still fuzzy about that. His father was always determined but this, this was different somehow. Like he knew everything. Like he knew the workings of Brendan's mind beyond the connection between a father and son. He knew May. He knew about him and May being together.
Brendan clutched the PokeBall and stared at his father, into the fading colours of his eyes.
"What do I need to do?"
"Go to her." Norman ordered. "Protect her."
Brendan nodded hesitantly. "Okay, Dad."
Norman ushered him over one last time. "Go to May, be with her." Brendan got up and looked at his dying father one last time. "I love you, son."
"I love you, Dad."