Chapter 19 Marshmallows

  The infirmary was quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights and Wendel’s footsteps were the only sounds as he made his way towards Cecilia’s room. His hand stopped an inch from the door as he hesitated for a moment before going in.

  On the right side of the room a woman stood next to Cecilia’s bed, her back towards the door.

  Cecilia lay in the hospital bed, her body was wrapped in a blanket. Her head was bandaged over her eyes. Lying there, she seemed small and fragile. Wendel’s chest tightened at the sight.

  “Is she awake?” he asked, his voice was tight.

  Nurse Meryl turned and shook her head gently. “No, we had to sedate her for the night. The poison got into her eyes, and Fairy-types are especially sensitive. The bandages over her eyes are soaked in Pecha extract—it’s helping neutralize the remaining poison, but the poison is causing her extreme pain. Sedation was necessary so she could rest through it.”

  Wendel knelt beside the bed, carefully taking her hand in his. Even through the blanket, Cecilia’s body felt tense.

  “Will she be alright?” he asked, swallowing hard.

  “Yes,” Meryl reassured him. “She’s stable. The Pecha extract will do its work, and by morning she should be much more comfortable. You did the right thing bringing her here quickly.”

  Wendel’s fingers brushed the side of her head gently. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t realize how bad it was…” His mind raced with guilt, replaying the battle over and over.

  Meryl placed her hand on his shoulder. “For now, let her rest. That’s the most important thing.”

  “And my Noivern?” Wendel nervously asked as he looked over at the sleeping dragon on the only other bed in the room.

  “She’s exhausted and bruised, but otherwise fine.” the nurse replied before walking out.

  Letting out a deep sigh, Wendel settled into the chair between their beds, refusing to leave their side. With the push of a button Rhys appeared in a flash of light.

  Rhys looked around the room and his aura sensors raised up at the sight of Cecilia.

  Wendel looked down at him. “She’s okay. Just got hit by a nasty poison attack.”

  Rhys let out a sigh and looked back at Wendel.

  Wendel nodded his head in the other direction. “And Gretchen is just exhausted after her fight.”

  Rhys followed the motion. His eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sight. “Ri-Ri Oolu?”

  Wendel chuckled at his surprise. “Yeah, she evolved mid-fight against a Gengar.”

  Rhys walked forward and softly stroked the back of Gretchen’s wing. “Ree-Olu”

  “Come here, I’ll tell you all about the fight,” Wendel said, patting his thigh.

  Rhys hopped back and settled into Wendel’s lap. “So, the last match started off with….”

  ***

  Hours passed in near silence. The door creaked open quietly, and Annabelle stepped inside. Her eyes immediately found Wendel and Rhys both asleep, his chest rising and falling in deep sleep. She let out a soft sigh, a smile tugging at her lips despite the tension in the room.

  Carefully, she crossed to him and draped a sheet over his shoulders, tucking it around him as if he were a child. “You’ve earned a little rest,” she whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

  ***

  A thin strip of golden light slipped through the infirmary window, cutting across the floor and landing on Wendel’s face. He stirred, blinking against the brightness, his neck and shoulders protesting every movement.

  He straightened slowly and Rhys let out a large yawn before jumping down. Bones popped as he pushed himself upright in the chair. “Oww… My neck.” He muttered, rubbing his neck. A blanket slipped to the floor as he stood.

  The room was quiet. Cecilia lay motionless in her bed. Across the room, Gretchen dozed with one wing awkwardly hanging off the bed and draping across the floor.

  Wendel stretched, arms high above his head until his back cracked, and exhaled in relief. That faint sound was enough to stir Gretchen. Her ears twitched, and one cracked open.

  “Morning, sleepyhead,” he said quietly, crouching beside her.

  Gretchen yawned, a high, squeaky trill escaping her throat before she blinked. Her voice brushed faintly against his mind, weary but fond. “You stayed all night.”

  “Couldn’t just leave you two here.” He smiled, patting her head gently. “Cecilia’s still out cold, but she looks better.”

  Gretchen’s gaze lingered on the Gardevoir, worry flickering through her expression before she gave a small nod.

  “I’m gonna go stretch a bit—get the blood moving,” Wendel said, stepping toward the door. “I’ll bring back breakfast. You stay put, yeah?”

  Gretchen gave a soft chirp of acknowledgment, then tucked her head back under her wing.

  “Come on Rhys”, he glanced back once before slipping out into the hall. The air outside the infirmary was cool and clean, the Academy courtyard just starting to glow in the early light.

  “You up for a light run?”

  Rhys gave a sharp nod and pounded his fists together.

  They started with neck rolls, after failing to get the knot out of his neck from sleeping in that chair all night they moved on to shoulder pulls, then hamstrings before easing into a light jog along the edge of the training fields.

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  Rhys jogged alongside, matching his rhythm, their breaths fogging in the cool morning air.

  As they rounded a bend, the sound of muffled impacts echoed through the mist. Someone was already training on the far field.

  As he got closer, he could see three figures standing in the field. Bea moved like water over stone: steady and powerful. Her Hitmontop and Machamp mirrored her strikes, arms whipping in precise time with her punches.

  She noticed them as they passed, wiping sweat from her brow with a towel slung over her shoulder. “You’re up early,” she called.

  Wendel slowed to a stop. “Couldn’t sleep in that hospital chair any longer. Figured a run might loosen me up.”

  Bea smiled faintly but there was something brittle beneath it. She sat down and started unlacing her gloves. “Big match today, my last one before graduation.”

  Wendel nodded, sensing the weight behind her tone. “Nervous?”

  “Not exactly.” She looked toward the rising sun, her gaze distant. “More like uncertainty. I’ve been offered a spot to train at a dojo in Galar. Sounds perfect on paper, but…” She trailed off, fiddling with her glove straps. “It’s far from home and everything I know.”

  Wendel crossed his arms. “You’ve never been afraid of a fight. But the future’s not something you can punch your way through.”

  That earned a small laugh from her. “You sound like my father.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Bea’s expression softened. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to start over somewhere new.”

  He thought for a moment. “Maybe it’s not about starting over. Maybe it’s just another step. You’ve already been walking this path—maybe Galar is where you’re meant to be.”

  She looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, a flicker of resolve returning to her eyes.

  “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

  Rhys tugged lightly at Wendel’s pant leg, signaling he was ready to move again.

  “Guess that’s our cue,” Wendel said. “Good luck, I’ll be rooting for you Bea.”

  “Thanks,” she replied, tightening her gloves again. “You’ll need some luck yourself. Third Wing isn’t known for mercy.”

  Wendel grinned. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  They jogged off into the pale morning light, the sound of Bea’s renewed training echoing faintly behind—each of them, in their own way, running toward something uncertain.

  After their run Wendel stopped by the cafeteria and picked up four breakfast sandwiches and some fruit before heading back to the infirmary.

  Inside, the light had softened, filtered through the pale morning clouds. Gretchen stirred immediately, blinking one eye open at the scent of food.

  “Yeah, I thought that might wake you,” Wendel said with a faint grin, setting one of the sandwiches and a fruit cup on a napkin beside her bed.

  Sitting down between Gretchen and Cecilia.

  “Rhys,” he called softly, holding out a sandwich. The Riolu appeared at his side, eyes bright and alert despite the run. Rhys grabbed the food before sitting cross-legged beside Wendel.

  Wendel unwrapped one for himself. The first bite hit like comfort—warm and salty, enough to ease the tightness in his chest for a moment.

  The peaceful silence lasted only a moment before a quiet sound broke it—a small, strained sigh. Wendel froze. His eyes darted to Cecilia’s bed.

  Her fingers twitched beneath the blanket.

  “Cecilia?” he whispered, leaning forward.

  Her breathing hitched. A faint pulse stirred at the edge of his mind—weak, blurry, and oddly uneven, like a thought half-formed through fog. “…Wen…del?”

  “Yeah. I’m right here.”

  The nurse entered just then.

  Cecilia’s hand shifted under his, trembling slightly. “Everything feels…floofy and floaty.”

  The nurse stepped closer, checking the monitors. “She’s coming out of sedation,” she said quietly. “Don’t worry if she sounds off—she’s on a fairly heavy dose of painkillers.”

  “Pain…killers?” Cecilia echoed through the link, her tone slow and distant. “Oh. That explains… but why can’t I see?”

  Wendel snorted softly despite himself. “There are bandages over your eyes helping to get rid of the poison.”

  “Bandages…?” Cecilia murmured. “Mmm… that’s silly. I don’t remember ordering any bandages…”

  Wendel couldn’t help it—a small laugh escaped him. “Yeah, well, they’re doctor’s orders, not yours. You took a hit straight to the eyes, remember?”

  Her response was a faint hum. “Mmm… I remember… bright… and then ouch.”

  “That’s about the short version,” Wendel said softly, keeping his tone light even as his stomach twisted at the memory.

  Cecilia shifted slightly beneath the blankets, her mind brushing against his again, unfocused and drifting. “You feel all fuzzy… like… a marshmallow.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “You’re warm and… bouncy. Like a springy marshmallow. I could just—boing.”

  That did it—Rhys snorted beside him, trying and failing to hide a grin behind his sandwich.

  “Can I get what she’s having?” Gretchen asked sarcastically.

  Wendel shot them a look but couldn’t suppress his own smile. “I think the pain meds are working a little too well.”

  “Don’t try to move yet,” the nurse cautioned, adjusting the IV line. “Let the medication wear off naturally. We’ll see how her vision is once the bandages come off later today.”

  Wendel nodded, relief washing through him as he brushed a stray strand of her hair away from the bandages. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Just sleep, Cecilia. You’ve done enough fighting for now.”

  Her breathing steadied again, soft and rhythmic. For a while, the only sounds were the monitor’s steady beep and Gretchen’s quiet snuffling as she dozed.

  Wendel leaned back in his chair, exhaustion finally catching up with him. But even as his eyes closed, Cecilia’s voice—faint and fuzzy—echoed in the back of his mind.

  “Wendel… don’t let them take my marshmallow away…”

  He groaned softly. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll guard it with my life.”

  The soft hum of the monitor filled the silence. Cecilia’s breathing had settled into a gentle rhythm again, her hand still resting limply in Wendel’s.

  He hadn’t meant to fall asleep—just to close his eyes for a minute.

  ***

  Annabelle stepped inside Cecilia’s room; she glanced around her eyes fixing on Wendel who was slouched in the chair with his head tilted back and mouth slightly open.

  A quiet sigh slipped from her. “Always pushing yourself past the edge,” she muttered, reaching out to shake his shoulder but she stopped.

  A wicked grin crossed her face as she looked over at the end table. There sat a bowl of fruit partially eaten.

  She grabbed a grape and slowly lowered it towards Wendel’s mouth.

  “Wendel,” she whispered.

  The grape fell and instantly he jerked upright with a sharp inhale, coughing rapidly. “What the hell!”

  Annabelle doubled over in laughter.

  “Annabelle? What was that for?”

  She shrugged “You looked hungry.”

  “Not cool” Wendel squinted as he looked out the window. “What time is it?”

  “Half past nine. You’re lucky I came to find you.” She straightened, crossing her arms. “First Wing Finals start in less than an hour. You’re still coming, right?”

  He rubbed his face, trying to clear the fog. “Yeah… right, Bea’s last match.” His voice was rough from sleep, but a flicker of energy returned to it as the words sank in.

  Annabelle nodded toward the beds. “They’ll be fine here. Nurse Meryl said both just need rest. You sitting here won’t change that.”

  Wendel looked between Cecilia and Gretchen. Gretchen was still curled up tight, tail twitching in her sleep, and Cecilia was still out cold from the pain medication.

  He exhaled slowly. “Yeah. Okay. You’re right.”

  “Grab your jacket,” Annabelle said, her tone brisk but not unkind. “You don’t want to show up looking like you slept in a chair all night.”

  “I did sleep in a chair all night.”

  She smirked. “Exactly my point.”

  He stood, stretching until his spine popped. His reflection in the glass showed tired eyes and messy hair. He turned back once more, resting a hand briefly on Cecilia’s blanket. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “You wanna come with Rhys?”

  With a quick nod, he hopped off his chair and headed towards the door.

  Annabelle waited by the door, watching as he finally tore himself away from the bedside.

  The moment they stepped into the hallway, the world outside the infirmary felt louder—students rushed past, chatter filled the air.

  “Feels like the entire school’s headed there,” Wendel said, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

  “Yeah, and half of the people in town too.” Annabelle gave a small grin. “First Wing Finals are the biggest event of the year. No one wants to miss them.”

  They pushed through the double doors leading to the upper stands. The arena was already alive with noise. Students and visitors were packed tightly in the stands.

  Wendel followed Annabelle up the steps to a spot near the edge. From there, the entire field spread out below: the referee was already in position, the energy of competition hanging thick in the air.

  Across the field, Bea stood alone in her corner, hands folded, head bowed in silent focus.

  “She’s locked in,” Annabelle said quietly.

  “Always is,” Wendel murmured.

  The announcement system crackled to life.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the First Wing Championship Finals!”