Professor Oak stepped into the Viridian Gym, expecting the usual chaos that accompanied his grandson, Blue. What he didn’t expect was the sight that greeted him.

Red was sitting on the floor, clinging to Blue like his life depended on it. His face was buried in Blue’s shoulder, his entire body shaking as he let out muffled sobs. Blue, for his part, looked both amused and concerned, one hand awkwardly patting Red’s back.

Oak raised a brow, his voice tinged with both curiosity and exasperation. “How did this—”

Blue cut him off with a sigh. “Red’s scared I’m going to need a robotic limb.”

Oak blinked, processing that for a moment. “How did you—”

“I’ve been his friend since we were kids, Gramps,” Blue replied flatly. “I know how his brain works. Kind of. Sometimes. Honestly, it’s a miracle I haven’t lost my mind yet.”

Red finally lifted his head, his eyes wide and watery, and immediately started signing at an alarmingly fast pace. His gestures were frantic and occasionally nonsensical, as though his brain and hands weren’t on the same page.

Oak tilted his head. “What’s he saying?”

Blue sighed again. “Something about me losing my arm, becoming part robot, and then—” He squinted as Red made a particularly dramatic gesture. “—uh, apparently fighting Mewtwo in a dramatic battle on top of a volcano. And winning. But also losing my other arm in the process.”

Oak blinked again, thoroughly baffled. “That… escalated quickly.”

Red’s hands flew faster, his expression shifting from panicked to downright manic. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days and had possibly consumed several cups of coffee.

Blue rubbed his temples. “Yeah, and now he’s saying I’ll need laser eyes and a jetpack to fight Team Rocket in space. Pretty sure he’s making this up as he goes.”

Red pointed at Blue’s arm, then back at himself, then mimed attaching a robotic limb to Blue with wild, exaggerated motions.

“Red,” Blue said slowly, grabbing his friend’s hands to stop the signing tornado. “I don’t need a robotic limb. I just have a sprained wrist and a couple of bruised ribs. That’s it. No robots. No volcano battles. No space adventures. Got it?”

Red stared at him, his expression shifting between disbelief and disappointment, before finally slumping against Blue with an exaggerated sigh.

Oak folded his arms, his tone dry. “And how, exactly, did this… situation begin?”

Blue glanced at his grandfather, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, you know, the usual. Red walked in, saw me with an ice pack, and decided the world was ending. I mean, at least he didn’t try to build me a robotic limb this time.”

Oak pinched the bridge of his nose. “This time?”

Blue smirked. “Don’t ask.”

Red, meanwhile, had perked up again. He grabbed a piece of paper and furiously scribbled something down before shoving it into Oak’s hands.

Oak read the note aloud. “Can we still build the jetpack?”

Blue groaned. “Gramps, you’re taking him back to Pallet Town with you.”

Oak smirked. “Oh, no. This is your problem now.”

Red clung to Blue again, a mischievous glint in his eye as he silently declared victory.