The Blind Alley: Chpt 17

Disclaimers: If I owned Pokemon, you would know it.

AN:// Not much to say other than I hope you all bear with the flashbacks. I know they can be confusing. I’ve been trying to be careful about how I insert them so that they don’t cause TOO much confusion at least.

I rewrote Misty’s goodbye at the end of the Johto region too, which comes up in this chapter.

And as I said in the first chapter, the events of the movie Mewtwo Returns, did not occur in this fanfiction.

Last Time On TBA:
Pokemon battles, strange device, forbidden moves, and a loser.
Quote: “...Why this is just the future of pokemon battles, Ash Ketchum.”

Chapter Seventeen: Slipping

Even the people who never frown
Eventually break down
-Linkin Park

Ash was in the Indigo League tournament finals again. It was really no sweat the second time around. With pokemon alongside his level of skill, his opponents practically laid themselves down in the arena in front of him. This instance was no different.

Ash shared a smug smirk, mirroring the expression on his own pokemon’s face. Charizard stretched out its wings to their full span, an intimidation factor that never failed. Their opponent’s Venusaur took a hesitant step backwards.

“Fireblast Charizard!” shouted Ash thrusting his hand down in a karate chop motion towards the opposing pokemon.

Charizard inhaled, swung its head back and released a volley of fire at the dinosaur pokemon. Impressive. The flames never wavered. They engulfed its target whole.

The faceless trainer shouted out their pokemon’s name.

“Bruteroot!”

Ash himself was never prone to naming his pokemon. He felt as though their inherent species’ name was enough to go by. After all, a name was a method of control. And Ash preferred to think of his pokemon as teammates, not property.

But that name. It was simple and yet- why did that name sound so familiar? Even the voice. The tone- that hint of distress. Had he fought with his trainer before?

The flames died but the glow remained. It encased the entire pokemon’s body in light. The audience’s roar dulled into a hush. Even the announcer seemed stunned. His breath coming in sharp over the microphone as he gasped.

“The pokemon is de... de-evolving!”

Slowly but surely the light shrunk and with it, the pokemon. Until it was nearly half its size and stature. The flower on its back withered until it was back into its pre-bloomed state. Large red eyes blinking, the newly born Ivysaur looked Ash’s way.

Ash took a hesitant step back, his back gracing the railing of the trainer’s box, “...The hell?”

Sure, it was great to get an occasional advantage but this was just plain weird. Whoever heard of pokemon de-evolving?

Charizard took a heavy step forward. But Ash held out his hand.

“Just wait a second, Charizard.”

“The green trainer has halted his pokemon’s attack. Will the red trainer use this hesitation to his advantage?”

Ash looked to the opposing box. The trainer didn’t seem overly concerned with his pokemon’s change. Instead he was smiling, his face shadowed by the brim of this year’s pokemon league cap, a stunning black and gold. Ash himself had once donned one of similar design, not too many years ago- when he first tried to tackle the league.

In fact, the kid didn’t look that old at all to Ash. Surely, he only just captured a license little less than a year ago?

“Will you do it, Ash?” The trainer suddenly said.

His voice surprisingly strong and clear without raising his voice. Ash could hear him well even though his opponent was across a field. The boy then lifted the brim of his hat, exposing his face to the shower of light pouring from the stadium lighting.

Ash’s eyes widened in horror.

“Will you kill me again, Ash Ketchum?” said William.

Ash fell back and over the railing. He fell out of the trainer’s box, that had before had only been a few feet off the ground, now seemed to be an eternal fall. The stadium was a whirl of noise and color. His head hurt. He gripped his head, digging his fingers through his hair- nails into scalp, trying to stop the noise. The screaming. The burning light that was scalding his skin. And then just as suddenly as it came it stopped.

The stadium was empty. In fact, it didn’t much resemble the Indigo League Stadium at all. He was alone facing an empty opponent box, the boundaries only chalked in and the towers gone. The looming skies overheard made the overall environment fairly uninviting.

Head still pounding, Ash took a dizzy step forward only stopped by a whistling sound near his ear. He turned his head just in time to see a large mass of energy shooting his way.

Ash only had time to cover his face with his arms. His scream was absorbed by the explosion. Ash stumbled back, expecting to be carried away recoil. But nothing hit. He heard the explosion. It tore at his eardrums. But there was no pain.

Ash peeked through his arms startled to see someone standing over him- blocking him from the blast. William? No, Ash realized lowering his arms. Although he was young... just as young as William had been. Dark hair, dark eyes, the blast frozen at his fingertips, in the midst of tearing at his back... and that stupid red and white baseball cap.

His dark eyes were filled with naive notions, some he’d eventually let go of in a few years. Some he’d be too afraid to let go of. There was also a kind of knowing- a knowing that Ash no longer had.

Ash knelt, looking up at his younger self in awe.

“Stupid,” Younger Ash said through gritted teeth. “Hurry up and remember.”

“R-remember what?”

His younger self rolled his eyes. “Just wake the hell up.”

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Present

He was laying down, face first into a stark and uncomfortable pillow. Groaning, Ash rose his head and then turned towards the wall. White, why was everything so white? Am I in a hospital again? He frowned as his vision focused. The walls were more than just white, they were soft... like pillows themselves.

Ash rose gently up to his knees. Pain spasms swept down his arm from his injured shoulder. He gripped his wound instinctively, surprised to feel the gaze and padding under his fingertips. His shirt and jacket were gone- replaced with some sort of dark colored tank top he didn’t recognize.

He fingered the new shirt numbly, taking in his surroundings. Not only the walls, but the floor and ceilings were padded as well.

Ash tried to climb to his feet. His vision swam and he quickly found himself back on his knees. I guess I should be thankful for the padding then.

He paused, his hands sunk into the soft white floor, as the memory of his mistake rushed back. Pikachu was in danger... or dead already. And he himself was in no better a situation.

Andromeda had admitted that she planned to kill him- eventually.

Leaning against the wall for support, Ash tried climbing to his feet again. Anything to keep his mind off the increasing panic rising within himself. He trembled on his unsteady legs, fighting back the waves of dizziness that threatened to buckle them once more. It was the blood loss probably. And the fact that he hadn’t been properly nourished in the last twenty four hours.

Ignoring the dull ache in his shoulder, Ash forced himself to lap the room. The only semblance of an exit he could find was a thinly concealed door within the white padding, with a tinted window cut into it.

Ash tapped the glass curiously, wondering if he should attempt breaking it. Would he injure his hand? Most likely. But the true question was, would the glass break at all? If it was especially thick, it’d be pointless trying.

After all, wasn’t someone coming to experiment on him soon? Maybe he should try to conserve his strength.

And the thought sent chills through his body. Had it already come to that? Had he really resigned to his fate so neatly?

The thought weighing heavily upon him, Ash fell against the opposite wall, sliding back down to his knees. He was just tired. So tired of all this. Why couldn’t he live normally for once?

His fingers teased the bandages on his shoulder again. He cringed at the soft pain that ebbed from the touch. Why did he have to get stabbed or shot or thrown off cliffs or electrocuted or held underwater? Why him? Why not anyone else?

Why did Mew come to him? Why did he have to protect Mewtwo? And why did his father... His father.

Ash hugged himself harder. Yes, his father. Why did his father have to be him? Why not anyone else? Why not some deadbeat asshole like any other kid abandoned by their father had? Why did his father have to be John Giovanni, leader of Team Rocket?

Ash looked up at the sound of the door opening. He tried to climb to his feet- the support of the wall was the only thing keeping him from crashing to his knees again.

Lewis wasn’t even fazed. He only smiled and held up his free hand as if to hold him back, “Don’t bother. You might as well save your strength.”

In his opposite hand was a tray of food. Ash absentmindedly wondered why they always sent Lewis to feed him. Surely there were some other guards less important to do that sort of dirty work.

“Where’s Pikachu? I know she gave him to you.”

“Somewhere.”

Lewis shut the door behind him with his foot.

“Where? Did you kill him?” The words felt heavy on his tongue. Lewis only smiled gently.

“There are these and these everywhere, Ash,” Lewis said, pointing to his eye and ear and then lowering his voice considerably. “And no. I haven’t decided how to deal with it yet. But keep that to yourself or we’ll both pay for it.”

Ash wasn’t sure he liked the answer but it was probably the best he could hope for now. At least, Lewis was considering doing right by Pikachu. If Lewis decided to release Pikachu maybe it could go find help somewhere. Maybe not in time to save his life, but at least its own would be spared.

Again with these thoughts, Ash frowned. It hasn’t even started yet.

Lewis sat the tray down on the floor, stared at it for a moment, then unwrapped the utensils and started in on the rubbery looking steak.

“Uh. Isn’t that supposed to be mine?” Ash asked weakly.

“Yeah, of course. I know,” responded Lewis without looking up. “I’m just cutting it up for you.”

“Oh... Well, um. Thanks, I guess.”

Ash drew closer, not trusting himself to be able to get back to his feet once he hit the floor again. He shuffled awkwardly along the wall, leaning forward to get a look at what Lewis was doing to his food. Or what he suspected was food. It looked only slightly worse than the stuff they fed him at the pokemon centers.

But beggars can’t be choosers. Especially if you are being held for ransom. He would just be lucky if they planned to feed him in between torture sessions.

“Uh, Lewis. Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“You worked for my... uh. Worked for Giovanni once, right?”

Lewis didn’t bother to look up when he answered, “Yes.”

“Did he... I mean... do you think... I’m... I’m...” Ash swallowed, realizing he really didn’t have the guts to say so yet. Instead he decided on a different question.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

Lewis paused and looked up. But his confused expression only promoted Ash to continue, “I mean, when I yell at you and threaten you and you just... shrug it off.”

“I’m used to it.”

“Well, but still. You don’t know me. We’re enemies here, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” Lewis chuckled, tucking a loose yellow strand behind his ear. “The answer is yes. We are. But... I don’t have an personal vendetta against you.” He paused. “Your pikachu and you... you share intriguing bond. I... I guess you could say I’m envious. And I want to... iunno. Help I guess. Help the two of you.”

At Ash’s startled look, Lewis only laughed. He pulled up his sleeve and showed a small cross shaped indention on his upper arm. “See that,” He said. “I was stabbed by a Beedrill when I was six. Ended up in the hospital for a whole week. And this,” He lifted up his pant leg and lowered his sock to expose the marred up skin around his ankle. “Gnawed on by an Eevee. An Eevee! One of the most docile pokemon on the planet!”

Lewis sighed deeply and pulled his sleeve and pant leg back down, “My whole life I’ve been taught that to get a pokemon’s complete obedience is to have them fear you. But they don’t. Not me. I’ve ended up injured so many times... Unlike my brother, I’m just not intimidating. Even if we have the same face. Pokemon just don’t listen to me. Instead they retaliate.

“But you,” Lewis continued gesturing in Ash’s direction. “Your Pikachu listens to you and you don’t hit it or threaten or hurt it in any way. It obeys your will without question. It’s more obedient than any pokemon I’ve ever seen by any other pokemon trainer. And I... I want to know how to do the same.”

“You want me to teach you?” said Ash incredulously. “And in return, you’ll help me and pikachu escape?”

Lewis set down the utensils suddenly. The rubbery meat was dashed in small square bites, each so neat and precise. For a moment, Ash was reminded of his own mother’s careful and perfectionist nature. And he briefly wondered if he’d ever get to yell at her for letting his father be a criminal mastermind.

“Those a treasonous words, Ash. And I’m not a traitor,” said Lewis with quiet conviction.

Ash swallowed. “Then I don’t follow.”

“I’ll help you. I’ll try to help you. I haven’t been ordered not to. I was ordered to get rid of your pikachu. I could just as easily release it. Or return him to you. I was never ordered not to do so. But... I was ordered to make sure you didn’t escape. I wasn’t ordered not to feed you. But I was ordered to inform Melanie when you woke up. I wasn’t ordered not to treat your wounds... Do you understand yet?”

Ash gently touched the bandages on his shoulder. So Lewis had done this? Simply because he wasn’t ordered not to? Ash’s lost expression must have dissatisfied Lewis, for he continued, “If I was ordered to kill you, I would. I would shoot you in the head without hesitation. But,” He smiled a wide smile, bewildering Ash further. “I wasn’t given that order yet.”

Ash frowned and turned away, “You’re strange.”

Lewis laughed, but it sounded weaker, more apologetic. He speared a piece of meat on the end of the fork and held it out to Ash. “Here. Eat. You can’t be sure when you’ll be able to again. Melanie is a bitch in every sense of the word.”

Ash took the fork numbly. The meat looked frayed and dry. He started at it expectantly, as if it might suddenly be more important to him. Right now this meal looked disgusting. Would he soon long for just a single bite?

“I don’t care if I die,” said Ash slowly, twisting the fork around in his hand. “There are worse things.”

Lewis stared at him with a strange twist to his smile. “And you said I was strange.”

Ash slipped the meat into his mouth and swallowed without bothering to chew. He continued onto the other bites, eating by necessity and not for any sort of pleasure. Lewis watched him clean the plate. He didn’t say anything until Ash had finished.

Once Ash had set down the fork, Lewis offered him a rare sort of smile. “I don’t care if I die either, Ash Ketchum. That makes the two of us, two very dangerous sort of people.”

Lewis picked up the dirty dishes and stood to go. Before heading out Ash’s padded cell, he paused. Without turning to look at him, Lewis spoke into the door, “But I hope you live.”

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Past

She hadn’t been expecting to see his sleeping bag empty at this time of night. Misty rolled over and out of her own bag, careful not to wake the still slumbering Pikachu, Togepi and Brock.

Ash was at the cliff side. As she had suspected he’d be. He was always rather picky about where they’d chose to set up camp. Even more so now that they were back from the Orange Islands. Misty guessed that the oceanic views had spoiled him somehow. Now Ash couldn’t stand to sleep without the night sky overhead.

He was perched on top of one of the boulders, his back to her. He didn’t seemed to hear her approach, and she didn’t want to disturb him. Instead, she watched. His features painted silver in the moonlight, and the stars reflected in his dark eyes like separate night skies.

It wasn’t long before his eyes flickered over in her direction. He smiled softly, and held out his hand to help her climb up with him. He held out his hand even though he knew she’d never take it. Misty’s pride was just as large as his own. Misty stubbornly climbed up beside him without his help.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked.

“No,” Misty said. “What about you?”

“Nightmares,” He hugged knees to his chest as if remembering suddenly made him feel cold.

Misty tried to keep the sympathy from showing on her face. Ash was still a child when it came to products of his own imagination. And when the nightmares came, they bothered him for weeks at a time. It is was in these moments that Misty realized why Delia was so nervous about letting her twelve year old out into the world.

Ever since Ash was declared Chosen One back on Shamouti Island, his tendency to have nightmares had become more and more frequent. Most of them were ridiculous and easily excused. Others were harder to whisk away. To these Brock and Misty were of little comfort. All they could say was that it was just a dream.

He had dreamt that Team Rocket had died from their sacrificial plunge. He had dreamt that he had broken one of the spheres and failed the world. He had dreamt that he had drowned and dragged Misty and Pikachu down with him. He had dreamt that Lugia had killed them all... with that horrible yellow beam of his; a focus of compressed energy that would kill at mere touch.

Misty moved closer to him and tried to comfort him with her closeness. It was hard to resist the urge to put her arms around him. They ached with emptiness.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Ash smiled softly into his knees. “It’s kind of silly actually.”

“If it’s still bothering you it can’t be all that silly.”

Ash sighed loudly and closed his eyes. The silence hung between them as uncomfortably as the hot summer night air. Misty thought she could smell the hint of rain on the wind. It would be a welcome interruption to the lazy summer days.

“It’s because they feel so real.”

Misty could hear the pain heavy in his voice. She wanted to egg him on, but held her tongue. If Ash wanted to continue, he would.

And he did. After a moment’s pause, he added, “There’s this pokemon... I can’t see it very well. But... it’s so much taller than me. With deep... dark... evil eyes. Its voice booms in my head but I can’t make out the words... over and over. Until it gets so angry that it... it...”

Despite herself, Misty found that she was gently rubbing Ash’s back. He seemed to appreciate the touch. Instead of moving away, Ash leaned against her. Her heart leapt hard into her throat.

“It hurt me...” He finished anticlimactically. “In my mind... it hurt.”

“Sounds like a psychic pokemon,” Misty said, her voice small and sounding far away. She didn’t know how she could muster to say anything with Ash so close, leaning his head on her shoulder. She could feel his soft hair tickling her face.

Ash frowned, seemingly dissatisfied with the conclusion. “I’ve never seen an Alakazam like that.”

“It’s just a dream, Ash. Don’t worry so much,” said Misty, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “And... and if such a pokemon showed up... if it did exist, pikachu would protect you against it. You know he would... As would all your pokemon. And Brock and I would never... never let it hurt you Ash.”

Even to herself, the promise sounded empty. As if she was trying to comfort a child against an invisible nemesis under the bed. She knew full well if a psychic pokemon had their sights set on Ash, the legendary chosen one, there would be little any one of them could do. But she wouldn’t be the one to tell Ash that.

And that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. Misty felt certain that she would protect Ash to the best of her ability. After all... what were friends for?

“Thank you.”

“I mean it.”

“Thanks,” Ash continued awkwardly. He looked away. In the low moonlight, Misty almost thought she had caught a tinge of pink on his cheeks.

Misty couldn’t keep the faint smile from her lips.

“Well,” She made to climb to her feet. “I better get back. You should try to sleep too, Ash-“

“Wait,” Ash caught her hand. For a moment it seemed as though he had forgotten why he had taken it. He stared at her hand and then into her face.

And then before Misty knew what was happening, he was kissing her.

He was kissing her. She could feel his lips tenderly pressed against her own, as if he were afraid of breaking her. Just as quickly as Misty had realized that this was her first kiss, she realized that this was his too. He wasn’t sure on how to move his lips around hers. If he should touch her face or her hair... no matter how much he longed to. And she wondered if perhaps she should wrap her arms around him now, or if it was too soon?

It was an awkward brief moment that their lips were locked. And then Ash pulled away.

“I- I’m sorry, Misty,” He muttered hastily before half climbing- half jumping off the rock and away from her. She watched him go, wondering if he meant to kiss her at all? If she should follow? If they should talk? But most of all, she wondered what this made them now?

He called her Misty, not Mist.

He kissed her.

In the morning, Ash acted as if nothing had happened. Misty played along reluctantly, all the while still feeling the press of his lips against hers.

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She cooed tenderly to the tiny infant, wrapped in blanket that Samuel had so kindly offered her. The dear Professor had offered her many things. A temporary resident in a room at his laboratory that he had meticulously cleared out, cleaned and prepared for her. A job in his lab so that she could keep herself and her newborn son off the streets. A possible permanent residence on some of his extra pasture land.

Not to mention what he was trying to do for her dead pikachu.

The professor hadn’t really had a baby bed laying around. But what he did have was a son in law more than able to build one in time for Ashton. She watched her son sleep in the pine cradle, her whole life appropriately bound up in a yellow blanket.

The two of them were sharing a back room of the lab. One that had once been a small store room. Now it held a mattress, a box full of old clothing (hers and her son’s) that the professor’s daughter, Karen, had generously given her. And of course Ashton’s new cradle.

She only wished there was something she could do in return for these wonderful people.

But she couldn’t even tell them her real name. Not if that woman was still looking for her.

Dido gently stroked the sides of her son’s face. He had his father’s hair color unfortunately. But he had her eyes. Her nose. And he’d carry her name. That’s all that mattered. He was her son, forever and always.

She looked up when she heard a soft rap on the door. It was far too early in the morning for her to be needed just yet. Surely the professor would not expect her to start working until at least the clock had chimed seven.

“Come in?”

Samuel poked his head in, smiling as always. “He asleep?”

“Fast.”

“Do you think he’d mind terribly if I stole his mother for a moment?”

Dido gathered up her long skirt and quietly joined Samuel in the hall. She closed the door tight behind herself. “Is something the matter?”

“Well... a bit,” He frowned and tossed his head in such a way that beckoned her to follow him. “I need to show you something.”

He walked part ways down the corridor before noticing she hadn’t been following. Her expression was one of tight anxiety. He could be calling her out for a number of reasons. None of which she wanted to go with him on.

“It’s about your pikachu.”

At those words, she quickly fell into pace behind him.

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“Mist! Wait! Please wait,” Ash wheezed when he had finally caught up with her. He grabbed her by the crook of her elbow. She turned her face away from him so that he couldn’t see the tears that were running down her face. She kept Togepi painfully tight to her chest, the tiny pokemon squirming in uncomfortable protest.

“What did I say?”

“If you don’t know then- then... I don’t know why I have to spell it out for you.”

“I would have thought you would have been happy to get your bike back. I mean it’s all you’ve griped about since you started following me and Pikachu around...”

“I didn’t follow you halfway around the world for a damn bike, Ash!”

Her sharp tone startled both Ash and the pikachu perched on his shoulder. They shared a brief glance at one another, her words sinking in. And then Ash bounced back quicker than Misty would have liked, “For what then?”

She turned away from him again, fighting off the new wave of tears stinging her eyes. “Why don’t you know?”

“I can’t know until you tell me.”

Misty shook off a half hearted laugh, “I can’t just tell you. God.”

The silence stung. She tried not to look at him. She tried to bite back the emotion that made her body shudder. But the tears still fell in messy streams down her face.

She set her squirming Togepi in the grass. The little egg pokemon waddled over and pawed at Ash’s pant leg. Ash gently lowered Pikachu to the ground, scratched him by the ears and gave him an encouraging push back towards the pokemon center. With silent obiendence, Pikachu complied- taking the chirpy Togepi with.

It was still a long while before Ash could muster up the courage to speak. And still, Misty’s voice cut through his own.

“Mist I-“

“Did it mean anything to you?”

“Did... what?”

“Did this!” Misty shouted, wildly gesturing to her lips. “Was I just some experiment? A momentary loss of judgment?”

“No... I-“

“Then what Ash? Did you just lose control because of your hormones?”

Now it was Ash’s turn to look away. But Misty wasn’t going to let him. She grabbed him by the shoulders roughly, hoping to get something- anything out of his face. The answer she had sought out for years. The answer she thought had been answered that night in Johto, only to be never spoken of again.

“Talk! Talk god dammit! Give me an excuse!”

“I don’t have any, okay!”

Ash’s sudden shout released himself from Misty’s grasp. She fell back, the tears overwhelming her again. Only because she could see tears slipping down Ash’s face.

“I don’t have any excuse,” said Ash softly. “For what happened that night... Or for anything. I don’t know why. I’m just... sorry.”

Ash wiped the tears furiously from his face. Even when he looked up her, tears still gleamed in his eyes. “But you have to believe me, I’ll miss you. I’ll miss you a hundred times over and a hundred times back. And I wish you didn’t have to go help your sisters. I really... really wish you didn’t. I wish you could stay with me- that we could continue on this journey- all of us, you, me, Brock and Pikachu forever... But your family needs you. And I’m not selfish enough to keep you... though I wish I was.

“What I mean to say is... that I will miss you, Misty. I’ll miss you every day until we meet again. And that’s a promise.”

Though she tried, Misty couldn’t fight off her smile. “A promise.”

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Dido stared at the scrawl of numbers that followed each other in clumpy seemingly nonsensical patterns down the sheet of paper in her hands. The list folded upon self onto a stack. It’s width was almost larger than then span of her palm. She followed the lines with unfocused eyes.

“I don’t understand. What is this?”

“That proves that your pokemon is in this pokeball,” said the excited professor, lifting the knifed pokeball up carefully as if it were exhibit A.

Dido’s brows furrowed. She squinted back down at the piece of paper skeptically, “Didn’t we already know that?”

“Oh, quite the contrary. The process of a pokemon going into a pokeball is a inexact science. In fact, hardly any true comprehension of what the pokemon becomes upon entering the ball is known. Are the pokemon shrunk? Are they transferred into an alternate space? It’s almost magical- the pokeball. In fact, the only reason the pokeball was even re-invented was sheer dumb luck. Isomyer didn’t know how what he had uncovered worked, except that it did. An ancient practice that only those that had truly invented understood.”

“And you?”

Samuel Oak smiled and wagged a finger at her. He seemed almost too excited to speak. And his enthusiasm was contagious.

“They become... energy.”

“Energy?”

“That’s right. A certain type of energy, that is practically invisible to the naked human eye. An energy that humans contain little of. But pokemon are comprised of solely.

“If I were to compare a pokeball to say... a vacuum. The entry point would of course be the button,” continued Oak tapping the hilt of the knife that had sliced the button in half. “With the force of attracting magnets, the pokemon’s form would be sucked in- particle by particle. Until it is retained by the spherical container. The walls of the pokeball seem almost like the repelling side of a magnet in its force to keep pokemon in. The more powerful the pokeball, the more powerful the magnet, thus the more powerful the energy from the reluctant powerful pokemon taken.”

Samuel paused to take a breath. His cheeks flushed, “Do you follow me so far?”

“Ah yes. I think so. But what does this have to do with my pokemon?”

“It means,” said Samuel. “That your pokemon’s body is intact. The metal knife did indeed penetrate the innards of the pokeball but since pokemon are nothing more than an essence inside- your pokemon survived the impact.”

Dido felt as though Oak had just reached inside her and seized her heart. “You mean Pikachu... is alive.”

“Was... unfortunately. When the pokeball failed to open, the pokemon couldn’t receive the proper nourishment. I’m afraid it died of malnutrition.”

Dido tried to ignore emotion that she thought she had already experienced before. When she couldn’t protect her pokemon the first time. When she saw the blade come down. When she tried for hours, wrenching and pulling- trying to get her pikachu out. Trying to save pikachu until her fingers bled, and she was half crazy from the effort and the rain and the cold.

She jumped when Oak touched her arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said so much.”

Dido hastily wiped away at her tears. “No, it’s my fault. I knew that... but still... I guess I didn’t realize that I still had my hopes up.”

“Still... I’m sorry.”

“Can you retrieve Pikachu.... from the pokeball?”

“No,” At Dido’s withered look, Oak continued. “Not yet. But that’s what I wanted to show you. It’s completely possible to retrieve your pokemon. The technology is just not up to date. But in a few years, I will be sure to make sure your pokemon is returned to you.”

Dido straightened the stack of papers absentmindedly and sighed. “I’ve waited this long. What’s a few more years?”

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Ash felt the waves of the pokemon’s attack rushing like waves of electricity over his body. He didn’t know why or what it was attacking. But there it was again in the sky above him, continuously haunting all of his nightmares. His body ached. He was on his hands and knees, seeing pairs of pokemon laying all around.

They were all hanging in some sort of perpetual white hell. He could see no end or beginning to the whiteness. Some of the pokemon appeared faded out- so blurred that he couldn’t make out what was what.

“I have to stop them.”

Ash looked beside himself. Misty was there, holding him up. In that silly skimpy yellow tank top short shorts and spender outfit. Ash hadn’t seen her in that sort of git-up in years. He thought it made her look too young. But when he looked at her closer he suddenly realized. She didn’t look a day over eleven!

“But how?” Ash found himself saying, though he thought he had been talking about Misty’s appearance. Instead his mouth continued to move without his consent. “All Mewtwo cares about is proving how strong his super clones are.”

Mewtwo! Mew’s son? Clones? What’s going on? Ash tried to move his head but he only had eyes for Misty. It seemed his conscious mind had separated from his current body. He was left watching his surroundings like a film played out through his own eyes.

“I wish there was some way to stop them,” said a bodiless voice on Ash’s far right. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t think they’ll ever stop. Those pokemon look like they’re ready to fight to the death.”

“That’s a fight that nobody’s going to win,” said Ash softly, again without thought. He felt Misty squeeze his arm sympathetically. Her eyes were hard. The expression on her face frightened him.

“Someone’s gotta take a stand. Someone’s gotta say no... and refuse to fight. Just like...”

Her voice was cut off by another rush of psychic charged discharge crashed into their weak human bodies. Ash shuddered, gritting his teeth against the pain. His bones ached to the core. He didn’t think he could manage to get up. And the sorrow that was sinking into him made it hard to want to. He had no idea what was going on. But he knew it was hopeless. They were going to die.

Suddenly Misty left his side. She stood up. He knew what she was going to do but he couldn’t move fast enough. Ash reached up to catch her arm but she slipped away. She was running... running straight into the center of the battle field.

I have to stop them, she had said.

“Misty no! Don’t!”

He could hear her scream as the energies collide. Heard her body rip apart, her gasp those psychic pokemon tore from her lungs as her entire body was consumed- as if it were happening to him instead. He felt her pain. She hung crucified in the air before gently the life stealing energies laid her down... and Ash found he couldn’t breathe.

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Present

“Misty!” Ash screamed, faltering halfway through his shriek as his voice gave way. His own voice jolted himself awake. He couldn’t jerk himself up all the way. He was fastened down to the armrests of a red reclining chair- that looked suspicious to one used in dentist offices. And there was a pokemon staring at him. If Alakazams could grin, Ash was sure it would have.

“That was fantastic. What a wonderful performance. Beautiful really,” said the monotone voice Ash had heard only seconds before losing consciousness before. His eyes instantly shot over to where the frail-looking young woman sat. She looked like she was the size of a pixie to him. Her hair was a deep violet, almost black- tied neatly back into low hanging pigtails. To him, he looked like Wednesday from the Adam’s Family, except a little less corpse like.

Her voice had never raised an octave. Not even when Ash had swung a few punches her way or had screamed profanities at her for being tied to a chair. Yes... she had done this to him. Always cool and collected, with a constant amused smile pasted on her pale face. Melanie was just as frightening as Lewis said she would be.

“Is Misty your girlfriend then?”

“My best friend.”

“Oh. I’m sure,” said Melanie coolly. “I wonder what she would scream out when under my control.”

Ash fought against the bonds that held him. “You stay away from her.”

“As if I’d have any interest in her when I have you. You who screams so beautifully,” chuckled Melanie. It was the closest thing that Ash had heard to laughter from her. Her voice raised slightly and her smile had become a bit more profound. “The nightmare attack worked wonders on you. Really, I hadn’t expected such a quick reaction. You must be highly sensitive to psychic energies. Probably a synch to hypnotize, right?”

Ash scowled but said nothing. It was true, he had been easy to hypnotize in the past. And he had particularly overwhelmed whenever his pokemon fought pokemon of the psychic variety. He always assumed he was scared, which was probably half of it. But he did notice that he felt physically weaker. As if he couldn’t run as fast as he’d like to. As if he couldn’t think as a quickly as he’d hope to. Or scream as loud as he’d want to.

“It’s really been too long since Ali and me got to practice on a human... It really gets so dull just dealing with pokemon. They don’t shriek at all like humans. Hurts my ears. Makes my job so much less enjoyable.”

“Must have been horrible for you,” said Ash through gritted teeth.

She sighed. “Well, at least I can put that behind me now. Andromeda has given me such a wonderful gift. I shall have to make sure you last, now won’t I?”

She squeezed his hand. Ash would have squirmed out of her grip if his arms weren’t fastened to the chair. Instead he grit his teeth and wondered if he could salivate enough to spit in the woman’s face.

As if sensing his thoughts, Melanie withdrew. For a moment, only silence stood between them. Then a smile slithered back across Melanie’s face.

“I think I do want to hypnotize you.”

Her threat didn’t create the desired effect on its target. Ash only stared.

“You’re not afraid of being hypnotized?”

Ash smiled. “You can’t be hypnotized to do anything beyond your own will and nature. What do I have to be afraid of?”

“Did I say I would hypnotize you? Oh, pardon. Slip of the tongue. I meant my Alakazam here will,” Ash spared a glance the pokemon’s way, and regretted it. Melanie caught his look, “A pokemon’s power of suggestion is a great deal more powerful than that of a humans... But I think you already know that, don’t you? Having once competed with Sabrina for a Indigo League badge.”

“And what would you once you’ve hypnotized me?” said Ash. “Make me cluck like a chicken or bark like a dog?”

Melanie laughed. And Ash was starting to realize he almost hated her laugh as much as Andromeda’s.

“Oh Ash. That’s so juvenile. Do you really think I’d stoop so low as to make you do something so beneath you? When with my power you could be... so much more.” Melanie paused by the arm of his chair. Ash flinched when she reached behind to push the back of the chair down. So used to Andromeda grabbing him suddenly- he had expected the same behavior from Melanie. But this woman seemed much more hesitant to touch him.

She leaned over him, the tips of her pigtails close to tickling his face. “I could make you kill your own pokemon.

“Or hold up a pokemon center,” Melanie added almost offhandedly as she headed back to the computer screens that blackened the walls. Screens where she was monitoring his pulse, brain activity, and various other things that Ash was sure the chair was reading off of him now. He could feel, even without the accelerated beeps around them, that his heart was racing. “Maybe fall in love someone you don’t want to... Hm. It would take some time but theoretically... I could rewrite your entire life by just changing what goes on up in your head.”

Melanie stopped talking. He could hear dull clicking of a keyboard somewhere beyond his line of sight. It was all he could do to blink back the stinging tears as he stared hard into the ceiling tiles above his head.

He wished on the ceiling tiles that they were that of a dentist office. The dentist trips he took as a child still gave him shivers. All the cold instruments, the most frightening meant cleave bone, and the faint smell of iodine in the air. But the ceiling was further away now than the dentist office that his mom used to take him to in Viridian. And the room was entirely too dark- too quiet aside from the soft keyboard clicks.

Soon, Ash mouthed to himself. I’ll be waking up from this nightmare soon.

But even as he said it, he couldn’t make himself believe it.

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To Be Continued...
Please Read and Review!

I hope the small visual clues might have helped with the readings this time around. I find them a little jarring but I hope that they might be able to help those differentiate what’s meant to be flashback and what’s meant to be present day situation.

Sorry for the long wait. I had a tug-a-war with this chapter trying to get things to work out the way I wanted them to. And it’s a lot longer than I had planned it to be. Hope to not take as much time with the next one.

Since it didn’t happen this chapter, next chapter- Giovanni should receive the rendezvous for the ransom exchange. And more Ash torture. Because that’s fun.

Please leave a review if you could please! I’d appreciate it!