Location: X-Mansion - Medical Bay
Three Hours Later
Hawlucha woke up to the sound of a heartbeat monitor and the smell of antiseptic.
For a moment, it panicked, wings flaring as it tried to remember where it was. The last thing it recalled was the high-five—the glorious, victorious high-five with the silver-haired sky woman—and then...
"Hawlu?" It sat up carefully, finding itself on a medical examination table that was far too large for its frame. Soft padding had been placed underneath it, and someone had draped a small blanket over its legs.
Across the room, also on an examination table, Hitmonchan was already awake. The boxer waved one glove in greeting, then pointed to the corner where a blue, furry creature in a lab coat was typing rapidly on a computer.
"Ah! You're awake," the furry one—Beast? That's what the others had called him—turned with a warm smile that showed far too many teeth. "Excellent. How are you feeling? Any dizziness? Nausea? Residual pain from your battles?"
"Hawlucha," Hawlucha said, which obviously meant: Where am I
Beast seemed to understand the general intent, if not the specific words. "You're in the X-Mansion, specifically in our medical facility. You collapsed after your rather impressive display of combat prowess. We wanted to ensure you and your... friend? Rival? Brother? We wanted to ensure you were both unharmed."
At the word 'brother', both Hawlucha and Hitmonchan made sounds of protest. Not brothers. Definitely not brothers. Just two Pokemon who'd hatched at the exact same time from eggs that were practically touching and had been inseparable ever since and were just trying to figure out who was technically the older one and therefore the boss and—
Okay, maybe they were brothers.
But Hawlucha was the cool one.
"Hawlucha!" it declared, puffing out its chest feathers.
"Hitmon-chan!" Hitmonchan replied, shadowboxing in rebuttal.
"Fascinating," Beast murmured, typing notes. "You appear to communicate through vocalization of what I presume are species names. Yet the inflection, body language, and contextual awareness suggest genuine sapient intelligence. You understand us, don't you?"
Both creatures nodded.
"Can you understand each other?"
Another nod, though this one came with Hawlucha making a dismissive gesture at Hitmonchan, who responded with a rude gesture of its own.
"Brothers in spirit, if not in blood," Beast said with amusement. "I have several of those myself. Tell me, do you know how you arrived in New Mexico? The dimensional readings we detected suggest spontaneous manifestation, similar to other reports we've been tracking."
Hawlucha and Hitmonchan looked at each other. They remembered... falling? No, not falling. Crossing. Pulling through something that felt like membrane and reality and the space between spaces. One moment they'd been in the middle of their fight, the thirty-seventh fight this week to determine rank, and the next they were tumbling out of a cracked stone in a desert, right in the middle of a different fight.
So naturally, they'd joined that fight first, and agreed to settle their own business after.
Professionals had standards, after all.
"Hawlucha," Hawlucha said, gesturing vaguely at the air in a way that it hoped conveyed that he came from somewhere else.
"I see," Beast said, clearly not seeing but too polite to say so. "Well, I believe Storm is preparing something for you. She's quite taken with you both, actually. It's not every day someone literally drops from the sky to help the X-Men."
As if summoned by her name, the medical bay door opened, and Storm entered carrying two bowls. The smell hit both Pokemon immediately: food. Real, actual food, and lots of it.
"You're awake!" Storm's face lit up with genuine pleasure. "Good. I wasn't sure what you might eat, so I prepared a variety. We have fruits, nuts, some protein—"
Hawlucha and Hitmonchan were already moving, hopping off their tables with practiced ease and diving toward the bowls. Both creatures ate with the efficiency of fighters who knew they needed to refuel fast, though Hawlucha definitely ate with more flair.
"They're quite remarkable, Ororo," Beast said, watching them with scientific fascination. "The musculature alone defies several laws of biology. And their energy signatures—"
"Later, Hank," Storm said gently. "Let them eat first. We can study them later—if they choose to stay."
Both Pokemon paused mid-bite, looking up at her.
"You're not prisoners," she clarified. "You helped us. We're grateful. But if you wish to leave, we won't stop you. Though..." she smiled, "...if you need a place to rest, to train, to determine once and for all who the 'older brother' is—we have excellent facilities."
Hawlucha and Hitmonchan exchanged a look. A training facility? With people who could appreciate a good fight? And food?
"Hawlucha!"
"Hitmon!"
They both nodded enthusiastically.
"Excellent," Storm said. "Then welcome to the X-Mansion. I suspect you'll fit right in. After all..." she gestured around at the medical bay, at the modified equipment and reinforced walls, "...we're all a little different here."
Logan chose that moment to stick his head through the door. "Hey, the birds and the boxer stayin'? 'Cause if they are, I call dibs on training with 'em. Been a while since I fought someone at my skill level."
"Your skill level?" Cyclops's voice came from behind him. "Logan, they took down four Sentinels."
"Exactly. My skill level."
Hawlucha struck a pose, clearly agreeing with this assessment.
Hitmonchan just shook its head and went back to eating.
As the X-Men began to file into the medical bay, curiosity and interest in equal measure, two Pokemon from another dimension found themselves surrounded by beings who knew what it meant to be different, to be powerful, to be searching for where they belonged.
It wasn't home. Not yet.
But it would do.
At least until the next round of their eternal rivalry.
Hawlucha was definitely winning. Definitely. That last pin counted double.
Just finished fixing this lmk if I messed up somewhere thanks