I realize that the conversation between the partner and Grovyle takes place at sunrise but for this story's sake, it takes place around midnight. Also, I do not own pokemon.

The Replacement

"Damn it," she said, punching the sand.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it," each expletive punctuated by another punch until her knuckles burned and she feel to her knees breathing heavily.

That asshole, it would have been so easy to not think about it. To concentrate only on the impending disaster and not think about confused guilty feelings until he had gone and said that.

Her eyes closed tightly and she shook her head trying to fight off the memory clawing its way to the forefront of her mind.

"Neppa," he said looking at her not with cold indifference, not with the odd mix of angerhate that had confused her at times, but with a type of confused emotion she couldn't identify.

"You may not have your memories but I want you to know that you're still the same, still my best friend and I worried about you all the time."She said nothing, and the silence had stretched on.

"Damn it," she yelled again jerking herself up to pace, only stopping to kick at the sand in frustration. Before he had gone and said that, and looked at her like that it had been so easy to think that they hadn't been very close, that they had been "partners" only out of convenience. After all it was kind of hard to attach warm fuzzy feelings to an emotionless block of ice. What had he even hoped to gain out saying that? His expression had been carefully neutral as he stared at her, what did he expect her to do, looking at him she hadn't felt a jolt of familiarity, a sudden surge of memories. She had only felt confused and guilty.

Afterwards she hadn't been able to sleep because he had just released everything she was trying to not think about, and with him and her partner there she hadn't been able to think. She couldn't sneak out. Grovyle would no doubt hear her and follow her. It wasn't until Zippy left and Grovyle followed that she had her chance. Grovyle would probably notice but since he was in a conversation he couldn't just leave and follow her.

So she came to the beach because she didn't have anywhere else to go. Having a mini breakdown in the middle of town wouldn't be the best way of telling everyone that they were still alive after all.

She froze as she felt a prickle at the back of her neck, someone was watching her. Immediately she twirled and slammed her tail into the ground bringing up clouds of sand that could hide her and let her escape unnoticed. Maybe they hadn't gotten a close look at her and her cover wasn't blo-

"It's only me."

Of course, who else could sneak up on her without her hearing them, she stopped and faced him. She knew he would've come eventually. She'd be surprised if a ghost could sneak by him. She sighed and sat down. Grovyle crouched down a few feet away from her, most of his weight on his arms.

It was strange she thought as the silence stretched on, how different he looked now. When she had first seen him he looked like something out of a nightmare, a multitude of vicious scars covered his body. The color of his skin dull and almost brown, Mesprit's blood decorating the leaves on him arms, but worst of all was his expression, completely indifferent as he cut them down, the tone of his voice cold as he said he was sorry. With normal outlaws there had been rage and overconfidence, with Grovyle there had been nothing, no expression, no emotion nothing. Now sitting across from her, he looked like one of the many pokemon that she rescued from dungeons, lost, scared and alone.

She tore her eyes away and looked up at the sky. It was better than looking at him. The silence pressed against her, long and awkward.

"Is," she gulped. "Is Zippy looking for me?"

"No, he didn't know you were gone."

Of course, Zippy couldn't see anything at night, even with a full moon he was completely blind. That and he probably had a lot on his mind, whatever he Grovyle were talking about probably wasn't a light conversation.

"Do you hate me?" Grovyle said.

"What?" she looked down in shock and caught by the intensity in his eyes.

He leaned forward, the claws on his hands straining against the sand, shoulders tense and unmoving. "Look, I know that you don't remember anything and I don't want to make you remember because we have important things to deal with, which means that none of us can be distracted, which means that I need to know if you hate me."

"Why would you-" she stopped herself, of course he would think, she had been acting like it, keeping as far away from him as possible, not talking to him, not answering him when he spoke to her.

"I don't hate you, I hate myself."

He sat back looking at her in shock. "But that doesn't make sense, you're not the type to blame yourself for things that aren't your fault, and the memory loss and transformation clearly aren-"

"It's not because of the memory loss!" She said, leaping up and marching towards him. "It's because not five minutes after waking up I went and replaced my supposed best friend with someone else. Which means that you obviously didn't mean as much to me I did to you and that Zippy," she choked. "It means that Zippy who has been the only person I cared about the entire time I've been here is only a replacement! What kind of a person am I? I hardly care about anyone and those who I do care about don't mean shit!" She stopped inches from his face breathing hard. Something itched at the back of her mind, she ignored it.

He blinked and shook his head, the look in his eyes was one of relief. "You didn't replace me with Zippy."

"But I did-"

He reached over to put his hand on her shoulder but stopped short and dropped his hand. "You didn't."

Then she realized what it was that had been bugging her, it was is scent. When she had first awoken nothing had made sense, the world was too bright, the people were too happy, too forgiving, too weak, and nothing had smelled right. When she was in the future, things had been familiar but nothing that had bothered her, it had been more like a half remembered dream. But this, she knew his scent, she remembered it.

"We should get back." She jumped slightly, she hadn't even noticed him begin to leave, as she looked at him she realized he was looking at her with that emotion again, the one she couldn't identify. It was yearning.

Okay so if I ever write any PMD oneshots, they will go here, this is officially a oneshot collection. It will mostly be heoxgrovyle but if something else strikes my fancy it'll go here as well. Also they won't always be connected, if I ever submit anything that doesn't go with the other oneshots I will tell you. By the way this is connected to Familiar.