Kurt had dreamt that he was swimming.
Well, he wasn't swimming. The Wailmer he was securely holding onto was, though, and they zoomed across the water. The waves rippled violently as they passed. The Wailmer he had perched upon burst through a menacing wave, soaking Kurt to the bone, but they emerged victorious, droplets of water flying gracefully through the air.
They skidded on the water's very scalp, speeding faster and faster, closer and closer to land.
The Wailmer stopped on a dime and Kurt was thrown off, soaring at high speeds. He hit his bedroom wall.
"Fuck..." Kurt swore as he slid down the wallpaper.
"Chuckles, I know you're trying to help," Kurt grumbled, seething. "But karate chopping my bed to get me out is not the way to do it."
"You're nearly fifteen minutes late though, Kurt," a voice said from the doorway. Kurt looked up warily to see the smiling face of his father. "Kurt Hummel is going to be tardy on the first day of his Pokémon journey?"
Kurt raised an eyebrow, glancing towards the clock. He gasped, a hand flying to his chest. "Six thirty? How am I going to do my whole routine in only half an hour?"
"You're not going to have time to moisturize on the road, son. Just hard dirt and plenty of sweat," lectured Burt, and Kurt rolled his eyes. He'd make time.
Kurt leapt from the floor, narrowly missing the family Machop and darting past his father. Burt sighed and looked down at Machop.
"He'll be fine, won't he, Chuckles?" Machop shrugged, and Burt glanced back at his son, already in the bathroom with the door locked. "He'll be fine."