Family. Family, family, family. Such a fickle thing. Especially things like pets.

Speaking of pets, let's just look at one. Flamey. Your brother's first Pokémon, gifted to him as an Eevee. He'd evolved pretty quickly, and had grown quite attached to him over the years. And then your brother moved out. Left the poor guy behind, and it hurt, despite all the love Flamey was given on that last day.

So your mother took him under her wing, since you'd been deep in school, and your father said he didn't want a dog. The two pampered the fuck out of Flamey. Over two years, he got love from your parents.

And then you moved out, and your mother told you to take him with you. She more or less said he was getting too old to play with anymore, since he was growing, and not a puppy anymore.

So. Here you are now, in your new apartment, trying to explain this to him, as he sits on your bed, clawing at one of your pillows.

"But your parents loved me, they wouldn't... Would they..?"