I couldn't find the fic on Ao3. So I wrote my own.
Enjoy having a Salamence, Rodney.
He'd always wanted a Salamence. The desire faded as he grew older, and specifically, developed a fear of dragon types. A mild fear, nothing big. But it was there. And Salamence is very much a dragon type.
But over the years, he resigned himself to the impossibility of that. Bagon were stubborn little bastards who rarely deigned a trainer useful in their quest to grow wings, and Sheldon were even less interested in them. And a Salamence? Left their beloved sky only for as short a time as they could get away with. There's little they find more horrifying than the idea of spending time on the ground, never mind inside a pokéball.
That's without getting into the cost of keeping one. Salamence were big, and their appetite was even bigger. Flying burns up a lot of calories. He wouldn't be able to afford keeping one fed. And as he always tells adopting trainers; don't get a pokémon that your wallet can't hold. It won't end well for anybody.
So Rodney resigned himself to never having one. And that was fine. Really, it was. He had Bart, and honestly, he'd give up a hundred Salamence if it meant keeping this lazy ball of goo.
Still. When their latest case was brought in, his heart skipped a beat.
"That's a Salamence," he says, professionally instead of dumbly.
"No shit, Smearglock," says Beth, unprofessionally and curious. "Big one, too."
"But thin," he says, mind spotting all the irregularities on habit. Professional habit. Because he's a professional. Not a little kid wanting to squeal at the sight of an actual, real life Salamence.
"Wings especially." This observation does make him snap out of his shock. Yes, this Salamence has thin wings. Not quite sickly so, they look like they can hold its weight. But they're not as muscled by far as a Salamence's wings should be.
The answer for why this is so arrives in a coughing fit that sounds like thunder, bedazzled by flashes of fire. Not a lot, thank Arceus. But enough to make him grateful to work in a fire proofed building, and also to be standing a healthy distance away.
The gratitude pales compared to his dread.
"Please tell me it doesn't have asthma." He asks it while looking for the documents given by the pokécenter. They don't often have the luck of their cases having gone through a full check-up before coming here, but they did now.
Beth has already beaten him to it. She's reading the results.
"She doesn't have asthma," Beth says in her I'm lying to make you feel better voice.
"That's horrible." It is. Even at best, it would limit the time she, because it's apparently a she, can spend in the air. In more severe cases, it would keep the poor girl trapped on the ground more often than not.
Judging from how thin the wings are, she's on the ground far more often than any Salamence should ever be. It's honestly heartbreaking. And yes, the reaction is stronger than usual because it involves a Salamence, but he would have felt like this no matter what.
No one should have their dreams torn down like this.
As if hearing his thoughts, the Salamence opens some truly gorgeous eyes. She looks him over.
She lets out an unimpressed snort. And no, that's not him projecting. His job depends on him being able to read pokémon, and by now he has a lot of experience at it. That was an unimpressed snort.
For some reason he's not surprised. He is a little disappointed, though.
He wants her to like him.
But that's the child in him talking. The professional needs to consider how to keep this very big, very dangerous pokémon, content enough to keep from going on a rampage.
A Salamence going on a rampage. Yeah, that's enough to get his mind back in the game.
With a sigh, he turns more fully towards Beth, careful to keep the Salamence within the corner of his vision.
His attention is abruptly drawn to Bart. Bart had just been chilling on the counter, being a happy pile of onze as usual. And he's still on the counter.
He's no longer chilling. Instead he's looking at the Salamence with sparkling eyes. Some might say Gulpin aren't capable of that, but those people have never met Bart.
The word is out before he even realizes it. Then his mind catches up to what his subconscious had already understood, and he repeats himself more firmly.
"Bart, no." They are not adopting this Salamence. They're not. It doesn't matter that without her constantly flying, his wallet can actually hold her. She's still far too big. And she doesn't even like him. See, the derisive snort.
Bart gives him a look that a Growlithe would be proud of. Luckily, Rodney has grown immune to that. No really, he has. It doesn't move him at all.
...Look, it just wouldn't work. Even if he can keep her fed, and even if she does grow to like him and Bart both, she's still too big. His home can't fit her. She'd need to be in a pokéball more often than not. She wouldn't like that.
She might like it more than being stuck on the ground.
No. That's the Impidimp in him talking. He needs to stay realistic. And not be swayed by Bart's sad drooping.
He's not adopting this Salamence.
blakekathryn
theartofmadeline
turnnoffyourmind
izzy806
2087
germansingergirl
