Title: Stasis (3/100)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 650
Genre: Character Study, Romance, Drama
Summary: Green+Red+Leaf. He told himself it was all intentional, but it still felt like he'd been left behind.
Author's Notes: This was inspired by "The Climb" by chrysa at LJ. I just couldn't get Eevee and Pikachu's forever friendship out of my head, or the image of Eevee curled around Green's shoulders as he climbs that damn mountain. So I wrote this. One of several fills for a challenge over at LJ.

It had started out so simply. They were only children, after all.

None of them had expected their friendship to end shattered across three continents, held together with straining sinews carefully tied by PokéGear calls and the occasional letter. Green hadn't seen either of them in years, and it was for the best, he told himself it was for the best, but his Eevee whined in its sleep sometimes, dreaming of electric mice, and sometimes all he could think about was a soft smile underneath a flat-brimmed hat, or red eyes gazing forever over the horizon.

It was ten years later and he wondered what they looked like now. They had always been closer to each other than he was to them; they were almost siblings and he was just the dutiful antagonist, driving them to always work harder, always staying just one step ahead. But Green fell out of that role once he became a Gym Leader and they moved on past him, without him, leaving him to feel like a fading memory as their names became renowned—more than renowned—legendary.

Leaf went where the wind blew her, but it wasn't like he didn't know where Red was, sitting in a lonely kingdom of high altitude air and frozen snow. He could go visit if he wanted. Any time he wanted. He just didn't have the time, he told himself. One of these days, he told himself. He'd get to it eventually, yes, eventually, and then he closed his eyes and he and his Eevee curled closer together in the dark, trying not to shiver with the memory of time, the expanse of empty years stretching between them and those who left so long ago.

He'd made his choice. They'd gone on, and he'd chosen not to follow. He'd stayed close to home, he'd thrown his roots down into the ground, he'd marked his place and built his kingdom, just as Red had built his. Just as Leaf was still buildng hers, scattered fragments across the earth. The world turned; they got older; they called each other sometimes. Sometimes Leaf even remembered his birthday. Red, of course, never did.

Green always remembered both of theirs, every year. He hesitated by the phone, Eevee looking up at him anxiously. Some years, he even picked it up.

Most years, he put it back down and walked away, leaving Eevee to chase after him, disappointed but silent, dutifully trying to understand as it had for the past decade.

He hadn't lost his edge, even now; he would never live up to the myth of those who had gone beyond him, but he poured himself into what he had left—his Pokémon, his Gym, the endless cycle of training and battling and training again. He never married, had many acquaintances and few friends.

Then, one day, the phone rang, and when he picked it up, it was Red.

"You never came," came the voice over the phone, roughened by years of harsh solitude.

"I..." Green sat down hard, Eevee pressing its face close to the phone, almost as desperate to hear as he was.

The silence stretched unbearably, but Red probably didn't even notice.

"Come," the other man said finally, and then he hung up.

Eevee headbutted him softly and Green hugged him, burying his face in the Pokémon's fur. They stayed that way for a long time, Eevee licking the tears on his cheeks, reassuring, soft and warm, and when Green began to sob, Eevee cried with him, together, too much to mourn and all of it nameless, years of silence finally broken.

Two weeks later, a sign hung on the door; Gone to Mt. Silver was all it said. And miles away, Green cursed in the cold, with Eevee curled around his shoulders like a sentient scarf, climbing that mountain, breaching Red's kingdom, finding the memories he thought he'd lost.

Today was the day.