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"I don't know. That's the point." He'd tried to figure it out, tried everything he could think of to come up with some kind of explanation. The only he had ever received was 'it happens,' and that was what he had had to settle with, unable to come up with anything better. It was frustrating, irritating, exasperating, but what could he do about it?

Her question triggered an automatic emotional retreat, and Lucas was suddenly completely level and calm, a special mask he usually only employed for professional occasions. "Don't ask that. Please." Of the whole list of things he had never deserved in his life, that 'she,' with all her patience and kindness, was at the top. The only thing he deserved from her was to be abandoned.

Nervous was probably accurate. Nervous, mild, and reserved. But that was something he simply preferred not to think about. That girl was gone - if not when she had left him, then when he had left Galactic. Not that he hadn't had plenty of opportunities to betray her in between those two events.

"Wha?" Her sudden apology was somehow upsetting, and he came to a resolution. "All right, enough of that. I've been talking way too much about boring things. Just forget I ever said anything, okay?" Claire didn't deserve to be burdened with his problems. How had he even come around to such a terrible topic anyway? It didn't matter, though; he simply brushed it all away with a bright grin, as though he'd never said anything in the first place.

"Not even if I ask it as a favor? Well, probably not... Oh well." She had said 'even if she wanted to,' after all, a phrase that raised a flag or two in the back of his mind, especially when paired with her largely failed attempt at a smile.

He sat in momentarily silence before finally being struck with some idea. "Ah, right," he murmured, reaching for something by his pocket. A brief flash would find Claire's lap full of excited puppy, the unmistakable fluff of a Growlithe's tail waving back and forth.

"Thought I'd call him Fetch."

The fire dog barked as if in agreement and nuzzled a cold nose into Claire's neck.

Fetch gave a short "grao" in reply, happily receiving the pettings. A pink tongue met the tip of her nose in thanks, and he turned circles before curling up in her lap.

Lucas watched the dog and its new nap time place, subtly searching the expression of the latter. It didn't seem like puppy therapy was having quite the effect he had hoped it would. He gestured to the pokemon. "Growlithe for your thoughts? I'm fresh out of spoons."

Lucas hummed thoughtfully, watching as Fetch leaned into Claire's hand, tail still waving. He leaned the back of his head against the wall and closed his eyes, relaxing against the cool surface. He drew a breath.

"Once upon a time, there was a kid named Luke," he was unaware that the name had been assigned to another existing entity, "who was so busy being a whiny punk that he couldn't even see the things that were important. One day he met a girl called Li-- ah... Lindsey. They got to be good friends, and Lindsey really did a lot to change how Luke viewed the world. But they were only kids, and the time came that they had to go their separate ways..." He took a momentary silence to consider his phrasing for the next leg of the tale and to assess Claire's expression.

Fetch detected the strange atmosphere that had descended on the two. It didn't seem that either were in very high spirits, and the puppy made it a personal challenge to correct that. He began by rolling over onto his back, difficult as it was to do so in a lap.

Lucas breathed another slow, quiet sigh before continuing. "Years later, they just happened to end up in the same place at the same time, and Lindsey said she'd been wanting to see Luke for ages. He was really happy to see her too, since she had been such a good friend. Without her, he probably would have ended up a lot like Seth." Well, that might have been unfair to say, since he had never actually met the infamous elite, but the description seemed to fit. "One day when they were talking, Lindsey said some things about her ex-boyfriend that Luke didn't like. Things that drew all sorts of great big red arrows towards abuse and harassment. The first thing Luke did after hearing this," he shifted slightly to better address Claire, the smirk on his lips suggesting he was more proud of the act than any other in his life, "was hunt the a*****e down and crack his jaw."

He leaned back again, loosely crossing his legs and resting his wrists on his knees. "Things didn't end well, though, and Luke wound up doing some things he shouldn't have." Blue eyes were once more closed. "Everything came back to get him, though. He did his best to make things right, but I guess karma got to him, and life in general just didn't go too well from then on, despite all his efforts." He raised his arms and folded them behind his head as an impromptu pillow with something of a boisterous yawn. "Poor Luke, his story really sucks. He worked awfully hard, but I guess the writer just got lazy when it came to the end."

He recognized that look; it was the expression of someone who had heard something that caused their heart to stop and their breath to catch. Were he in a less completely serene state, he likely would have been ready fly off the handle again. As he was, he filed it away for later reference. Obviously someone needed their spine shattered, and damned if he wasn't going to find out who it was.

Yet another sigh passed his lips at the question. "Hmm. I guess he got drunk, wound up with a woman he never should have been with, and was used and thrown away, and he deserved nothing more." His perfectly straight face was betrayed by the slightly trembling hands that tightened into fists. "The jerk hurt poor Lindsey, then turned around and deserted her complete. He's the worst in the world, that's for sure."

"No, he deserves it for sure. Like I said, he's the worst in the world." Her tone was unmistakable, but if he broke character now, there was no way he would be able to continue answering her questions. "The writer hasn't figured out that part of the story yet," he said, continuing to refer to the memories as though they were wholly impersonal. He could only assume that one of his lapses in memory had hidden the real cause of the sudden switch his his relationship, so he was left with nothing but hypotheses, "If I had to throw out some of my own theories, I'd say he might have said something cruel to her, or maybe... ah, I don't know, it's not impossible that he really physically hurt her..." The very thought of it twisted his stomach into a knot, and it showed on his face. But he couldn't overrule the possibility when he had no memory of it, especially when he had no idea what sort of things he did during his lapses in memory.