He should be grateful. But it hurts.

That is all Pillow Central can think of as he lies face down on the floor, convulsing every so slightly. Espeon sits near, her paw stroking where his conscious mind insists is the back of his head but that he knows is nothing but blank silk.

On the other side of him, Kitty inspects him every so often, sniffing along where silk branches into astral, gently gently touching and yet making him softly cry out against the floor. She murmurs softly to him, soft things that try to assure him it will be over soon, that he is being blessed, that the Awakening of these arms and legs and hands and feet is good.

But all Pillow Central can think about is how much it hurts. It burns like how he remembers plasma does, sees in the back of his mind flesh boiling, bubbling, slipping away burnt to expose muscle and bone. He thinks there should be blood, where is the blood, there should be so much blood, but there is nothing but the rug and hardwood floor.

He thinks, faintly, faintly, that it he is glad the Owner is away still, even though such a thought makes him feel guilty and sick— he should instead wish to be there with the human, to protect and soothe and help; it's what he was made to do, what they are all made to do, after all.

Pillow Central swears, both at his body and at the Elders, because it's their fault it has come to this, isn't it? From the moment that one rose from the stuffed bodies they lay dormant in, the Awakening had sparked in him- he had felt it in his stomach, in the buzz behind his eyes, but he hasn't expected... none of them had expected this so soon. But no one had been able to do anything when the Elder left, and they are the only ones who know. It's as Kitty says: "This will let us do something. This will let us warn them. You must go and warn them."

He grits his teeth together to keep down a scream as lighting races down the astral legs into newly forming feet, feels false tears prick into his eyes.

"It's not real," Pillow Central says, although he's not sure who he says it to; it's more a moan of horror then anything else, and yet Kitty and Espeon and Alice answer: "It is, it is, it's almost done, just hang on".

He does not want to hang on. He does not want to deal with this, or what comes next. He wants to fall asleep, to reverse the Awakening—

Except he does not? He isn't sure. He is not sure of anything.

It hurts.

Time passes. He does not know if it is minutes, or hours, or days, but slowly the pain eases and he no longer feels phantom blood pouring from growing limbs, no longer feels the sting of development, only the movement of arms and legs and such that he can faintly see.

Pillow Central sits up, pushes himself so that he is no longer flat against the floor, and the astral limbs shake as he uses them for the first time. Espeon, asleep on his back, springs to life at the movement, and exclaims incoherently in excitement at him.

"You did it!" she practically yells, ignoring Kitty's frantic attempts to shush her and Alice's chiding reminder to keep under wraps. "You did it! PC, you depressed body pillow bastard, you're a real boy now!"

Kitty sighs and boxes Espeon in the mouth; the force of the hit knocks the purple Pokémon over, but does not shut her up. Kitty shakes her head with a sigh, but the stitching of her mouth has curled up in a smile. "You are something special," she says, softly, not to him but still audible.

Louder, she says, "You are to go out, aren't you? You should get dressed. The Owner has clothes that they won't miss."

"Clothes don't hide this," he mumbles, grasping the back of the chair at the computer desk to haul himself to his feet. Or, well, upright- the astral feet end at the bottom of the pillow, and the printed ink does not change when he steps; he can only feel it, only watch as it translates to shuddering shuffling of his physical form across the room to the closest. He fumbles with the doorknob, not quite sure for a moment how to operate it.

When he dresses, the astral limbs fill out the sleeves and pants and socks and shoes like human limbs would, and soon enough, with his pillowed self hidden under a hoodie and jeans and a scarf and a hat and a old goalball mask with the blackout tape removed, he stands in front of the hallway mirror, holding Kitty and Espeon and Alice in his arms as he stares.

There's a soft shuffling, and Pillow Central ooks down to see Hope Bunny, staring with with their stitched shut eyes. The cream bunny studies him, and then gives him the tiniest nod as Awakened stitches unravel and slide away to allow them to point with their small paws.

"You," Hope Bunny says, paw trembling slightly as it picks out Espeon. "And you." The paw moves to Alice. "Go with. Save the humans. Save the world."

"Oh, shit, we about to XCOM road trip in this bitch," Espeon says. Pillow Central covers her mouth with a finger.

"Oh no, I couldn't," Alice begins, but Hope Bunny lifts their head, and she falls quiet.

"Yes, go," they say. "Warn them. And find the Elders. Force them back. Force them dormant. Prevent the game."

They look at Pillow Central's concealed form. "You will pass," they say. "You will be our relay. Our brawn." A look toward Alice. "You will be our brain." And then to Espeon. "And you, our humors."

"Oooh, sidekick role, fancy," Espeon says.

"Leave now," Hope Bunny says. "Time is short for departure. The magic of wakefulness will aid you."

"I'm not sure this is... a great idea," Pillow Central says.

"We're about to go on the adventure of a lifetime and you wanna chicken out?" Espeon asks.

"I'm not one for adventures, really..." Pillow Central says. For all his memories, he himself has never done more then shuffle around; god, he has never even left this room.

"Go," implores Hope Bunny. "You must."

"First things first," Alice says, "we need some stuff. Money, a car, a ID... guess the magic will help with that."

"I really think we could do this some other way," Pillow Central says. "Couldn't we... email someone who'd care?"

"Do you think they'd believe some random? I wouldn't," Espeon says. "'Sides, the pictures we have should be hand delivered, not sent across the Internet. We should probably stay off that, now that I think about it..."

"Absolutely," Alice says. "It would make us much easier to track if we were to use it."

Pillow Central sighs heavily. "Let me clear out the school bag," he says.

"Fuck yeah, let's go save humanity!"

"This is not fun, Espeon."

"Eat my entire purple ass, we'll make it fun."

"Oy gevalt."