Author's Note: Hello, readers! Lady Venamisa here, offering you a sparkling new story! This was supposed to be a one-shot, but wound up getting out of hand. Enjoy!
Warning: The following contains: Slash, rude language, Pokemon/Human romance, slight gore and AU (ignores the ending of Mewtwo Returns); and Older!Ash
Bold Typing is telepathy. Italics are thoughts, flashbacks and words used for emphasis.
There are three different timelines in this story, though not all of them may appear in the same chapters at the same time:
Six Months/Five Months Ago = Mewtwo's rescue Mission. Encompasses Ash's time in Team Rocket's clutches. Ash's viewpoint in this time will not have the month indicator.
Present Day = Is Present Day within the story's universe.
In Memorium = Flashbacks of Ash and Mewtwo's week together. Occurs one year before the rescue; a year and six months prior to Present Day.
Please note that in my personal canon, Substitute makes a temporary and translucent copy of the Pokemon using it. I got this idea from the Pokemon Adventures manga.
~Lady Venamisa~
Six Months Ago, Pallet Town...
One moonlit night, a whitish-blue blur shot over the skies of Kanto at a fearsome speed. Eyewitnesses claimed that it was a comet, for what else could it have been? The blur of light steered its way toward the small community of Pallet, where the panicked townsfolk fled for the safety of their basements. Only Delia Ketchum and her closest friend, Samuel Oak, were courageous enough to wait outside of his lab. Sam held the distraught woman protectively, watching as the so-called comet landed without displacing a single blade of grass. As it turned out, the light was actually a Pokemon bathed in the glow of psychic power. When the light faded away, it revealed an alien-like creature with a slightly feline look to it.
Who are you, and why am I here? Its mental voice inquired with a cool, male tone.
Delia shivered in the professor's arms, before gently pushing herself away. She then faced the newcomer with a teary smile. "You're Mewtwo, right?" her voice was hoarse from hours of crying; it was all she could do anymore.
The creature tilted his head in bewilderment, eyes glinting dangerously. Yes, I am. He allowed slowly. How did you come across such information?
Delia flinched, struck hard by the simple question. "M-my son talks about you all the time."
Mewtwo's eyes widened, a thrill of surprise shutting down his skepticism. Ash?
Delia nodded. The mention of her only child drudged up yet another well of sorrow in her. Sam gathered her in his arms once more, absorbing the tremors of violent sobs that echoed through the countryside. The alien-like Pokemon missed this sign of trouble, however, already lost in his own thoughts. Though he kept in touch with the raven-haired teen through an occasional letter, it had almost been a year since their last encounter on Mt. Quena...
In Memorium, Day One...
It was another perfect morning. Mewtwo had started out the day as he so often did; with research of some kind and a glass of pure, cold spring water. He savored the sun's warmth, enjoying it like one would a fine wine. Every so often, he would watch as most of the other land-roaming Pokemon played their version of human games. Today happened to be tag. Beside him laid sweet little Vultwo. The vulpix had found that she enjoyed reading more than playing – a trait they both seemed to share. Mewtwo looked down to her and smiled in approval.
What are you reading today, Vultwo?
"A book of poems by Emily Dickenson." She answered, never adverting her eyes from the page. "She's my favorite!"
Her style does have a certain charm to it. He allowed placidly, though it didn't sound all that interesting to him. Flowery words and vauge concepts did nothing for him. He liked something massive and complex, a unique work that either challenged his mind or imparted some kind of knowledge. Still, he had no qualms with humoring her.
"It does, doesn't it?" There was a brightness in her tone, as if enthralled by the words in front of her. Mewtwo found himself grinning at that – innocence at it's finest! Mt. Quena had changed very little over the years. Even now, it still embodied peace, easy laughter and a sense of ease that could be found nowhere else. Giovanni's looming shadow had long since vanished for the most part. There were still a few scattered nightmares and bad memories, but nothing that couldn't be dealt with by the compassion and support of his creations. He didn't burden them with his problems often, but when everything was simply too much to bear, they acted with an understanding well beyond their years.
He raised them well, all things considered.
"Nya~! You can't catch me, Pikatwo!"
"Bet I can, Meowtwo!"
The five baby nidoqueens – created from his cloning device and Queentwo's desire to have children – waited patiently on the ground as they took turns flying with Chartwo.
"Faster! Go faster, Uncle Char!" the oldest one demanded excitedly. Chartwo smirked at the little dino-like creature in his arms.
"Okay, kid! You asked for it!" the pseudo-dragon flew higher and higher, pulling off fancy tricks once in a while. There were cries of awe and joy from the children, and worry from Queentwo. Watching them enjoy such frivolity invoked a deep longing for the childhood he'd never had. Twenty years of sleeping in a test tube was far from memorable, after all. The Genetic Pokemon idly wondered if he would have been laughing with family and friends, just as the clones did. It was a sad though, which he quickly pushed back to the deepest recesses of his mind. It was not wise to brood on things that could have been.
Chartwo landed on the ground, poised and proud.
"You are impossible!" The Drill Pokemon admonished tersely, the ground shaking as she marched up to him. "I told you to be careful with my babies!"
"Mom, we're not babies!" The youngest whined. She was promptly ignored.
"Hey your kids are fine! I'd never let them get hurt, you know!" Chartwo grumbled, as the last little nidoqueen jumped off his back. Queen two sighed exasperatedly.
"I know, I know! Just be careful, okay?"
"Heh! Careful is my middle name. Char-Careful-Two!" Those in the area laughed, earning a pout from the Flame Pokemon. "What? I'm careful!" Mewtwo chuckled at their antics, causing them to gape at him like a feebas out of water.
"Father is laughing!" Wigglytwo gasped in disbelief. Mewtwo couldn't help but snicker.
What can I say? Even I have a sense of humor. After a couple awkward seconds, everyone eventually relaxed and went about their activities once more. Vultwo looked up at him, amber eyes shining with happiness.
"I like it when you're like this, father!"
He beamed at the little fox and patted her on the head. Me too. He then returned to his book.
When lunch time came along, Chartwo and Scythertwo hunted for the carnivores, while others partook in Saurtwo's findings; pecha, magost and leppa berries. Mewtwo helped himself to a bit of everything and continued reading. The book dealt with the question of how the magikarp and gyarados species had become as they are. It held theories, though few of them confirmed. One suggested that Arceus had been angered by one in the past, while another stated that incest was to blame.
"One can infer that inbreeding has caused physical problems for the magikarp line, but it is also believed to have affected the emotional stability of their evolved forms. A gyarados' awful temperament is most likely a sign of some chemical imbalance in the brain. Furthermore, some magikarp never even reach their final form, due to a lack of chromisomes ten and thirteen. This, coupled with a gyarados' hostile nature, has significantly lowered their population by over half in the last fifty years."
This makes more sense than the others I've read so far. Mewtwo thought to himself, interest peaked. Just as he was about to flip over the next page, however, he felt a sudden presence that kept moving toward the plateau. He rose from the stump he'd been sitting upon and used his powers to erect a large barrier around them.
Everyone, go into hiding! He commanded at once. I sense that someone is headed our way!
The effect of his words spread like wildfire. Queentwo ushered her children into the cave while Chartwo, Pidgeottwo and Venomtwo took to the skies. Gyaratwo and Blasttwo towered above the other water Pokemon, ready to lead them in an attack. Queentwo returned promptly, positioning herself between Slashtwo and the other land-dwellers. Saurtwo, being the largest of them, followed Blasttwo's example. All too soon, they were ready for battle.
I SAID GO INTO HIDING! The psychic snapped, irate that they'd disobey such an important order. Don't stand there and wait for the enemy! This fight is mine, and mine alone! The last thing he wanted was for one of the clones to suffer because Team Rocket, or some other organization, wanted to capture him. The idea forced unwanted images to the forefront of his mind; Mt. Quena in ruins... all of his clones – his children – hurt and dying...
...the worst of his nightmares would come to fruition, and it terrified him.
"Sorry, but we can't do that!" Pikatwo argued, back turned to face the approaching force. We won't let you fight alone!"
"Live as one, fight as one!" Hitmontwo, Pinsrtwo and Scythertwo chanted in unison. "It is our way!" Loud cheers resounded from the others.
What if it is me they are after? Are you willing to risk you lives for someone who created you with evil intent? Their display of such strong, fierce loyalty was more than overwhelming. He feared for their lives more than anything, yet was touched by their strength of will. Could their feelings go beyond the fact he created them? Did they truly care for him, as they'd so often claimed? His brain simply shut down when Vultwo nuzzled his leg.
"Of course we are, father! We love you!"
Love? His eyes went wide.
"You know it!" Golducktwo declared, beaming back at him. "You're our father and friend! You protected us from that prick last time, so we're going to return the favor?"
All of you feel this strongly? Though far from actual tears, Mewtwo felt the beginnings of pinpricks at his eyes. They had said the words many times before, but this was the first time he was able to internalize the meaning behind them. He closed his eyes, taking it all in. He couldn't, in good conscience, force them to stay away. With difficulty, he shook off his softer emotions, feeling more bold than ever before. He nodded to them, glowing with the whitish-blue of psychic power. In that case, I suppose asking any of you to leave. Very well! Let us show these humans that we cannot be driven away!
Roars and bellows ripped through the platea. For five, agonizing minutes, they waited for the opposition. Their auras flared with a unified, protective ferocity; they were determined to win and keep their home! If someone were to come after them, the fools would either die or live to regret it! The presence in question kept moving closer and closer, until something could be seen in the distance. They expected an armada of planes with that unmistakable "R" on them, or something to that effect. What none of them counted on was a black-haired young man and a pikachu, riding upon the back of a charizard. It didn't take long to ascertain their identities.
Wait, don't attack! They're not a threat!
The clones preempted their assault, per his request. Mewtwo let down the Barrier, and sure enough, it was him. Seven years ago, at the tender age of eleven, a boy and his friends had visited. With their help, Mewtwo was able to foil Giovanni's attempts to destroy everything they'd worked so hard to build.
"Hey, Mewtwo!" The trainer called out, waving happily at him.
"Hiya!" Pikachu shouted, smiling just like his clone.
It's you...
Yes. After many years of separation, they were finally reunited; a clone of Mew who became so much more, and the boy who had unwittingly become his savoir.
Six Months Ago, Pallet Town...
Somehow, the trio entered Sam's private living quarters. Mewtwo didn't remember going inside, yet there he was. They sat a small, round table, with cups of tea in front of them.
"My name is Samuel Oak, one of the leading professors of this region. I'm sorry for calling you on such short notice, but we're in desperate need of your help." As he spoke, Delia placed a small, metallic box on the table.
"I-I was in Ash's room and f-found this. There was a note and it said to use this if he was in trouble, so I did." She murmured quickly, laying down a piece of paper for him to see. Her aura radiated a dark, blackish-blue – the color of sorrow and depression. Delia cried again. The professor excused themselves for a moment, so that he could settle her down in his room. Confused and impatient, Mewtwo read the note:
Ash,
I just wanted to thank you for visiting me. I really enjoyed having you around! Next time you're in the area, please feel free to stop by. Enclosed in this box is a special device. Press the red button when you're in danger, and I'll be by your side as soon as I possibly can.
Take care,
Mewtwo
A feeling of dread slowly crept into his heart. The square, metal box was specifically designed to hone in on his energy signature and force him to arrive where it was pressed. It was given to Ash as a means of being able to provide help, should it ever be necessary. It wasn't supposed to be used, but the fact it had meant nothing good. The note, written in his hasty scrawl was proof enough.
As he waited for Sam to return, his gruesome imagination took hold. Ash, laying in a puddle of his own blood; Ash, being tortured, burned alive, dismembered... and just about every other ghastly thing he'd unwittingly come up with. After what felt like ages, the professor took his seat once more. He looked weary, as though he hadn't slept in a long time. From the hallway, Delia's wails could still be heard.
"I apologize. She just hasn't been the same. Not since the incident."
An incident involving Ash, I take it?
Sam sighed miserably. "He was abducted. I assume you want the full story?" Mewtwo nodded curtly. "Very well. It happened three weeks ago, on Route One. Ash and Pikachu went to run errands at Delia's request. During that time, he stopped for a visit with a Pokemon he released years ago; a pidgeot that had been getting on in years."
Delia crying, pleading with the police to find her son.
Mewtwo nearly gasped, surprised at the sudden image. Normally, they only popped up when his children were in dire need. Often times, this unusual ability prevented particularly bad fights or tragic accidents from occuring. Apparently, the ability went beyond the bonds he shared with them.
"The errands were a distraction. He needed to be gone for most of the day, while we planned a surprise party for his birthday. It wasn't until late afternoon that we started to worry. When nightfall came and there was still no sign of him, we started our search."
Sam, Delia, Misty, Brock and a plethora of unfamiliar people decorated the room in bright, festive colors. Balloons and streamers everywhere. A large, red banner read "Happy Birthday, Ash!" in big, white letters. A large pile of presents hidden in a closet. Foods of all kinds, made and prepared for the special event. Excitement, happiness, joy and just a little bit of mischief.
The same people wandering around at night, flashlights shining. Confusing and concern shifting to panic, fear and dread. Scared that the unthinkable had taken place...
"Hours later, we found Pikachu and Pidgeot sprawled on the ground, badly wounded."
Pidgeot and Pikachu, on the brink of death. Pidgeot didn't move at all, and Pikachu's breathing was very shallow. Pikachu held a red hat in his tiny hands, whispering Ash's name over and over again.
"We rushed them both to the nearest center, but Pidgeot died on arrival. Pikachu came home from Viridian just a few days ago. Ash was nowhere to be found."
I see. Do you know who is behind this, or an idea of Ash's location?
Sam held a hand to his forehead in a visible sign of tiredness. "I had a powerful psychic flown in from Saffron City. She looked into Pikachu's thoughts and confirmed that Team Rocket is responsible. We don't understand why they did it in the first place, or where they took him – she said that Pikachu's mind was too chaotic to be certain of anything else."
A sudden bout of anger flared within Mewtwo. At Ash for leaving the device behind; at Sam and Delia, for waiting so long to contact him, and at Team Rocket, for committing this heinous act in the first place! The clone of Mew stood up straight, glowing with power once more. It seems that we will meet again, Giovanni, much to my immense displeasure.
The professor gave him a startled look.
I will handle the situation from here! When the time comes, I shall send a messenger to you!
Sam nodded. "Thank you, Mewtwo."
Don't thank me just yet. On that grim note, he vanished in a whirl of light and sound. I'll do what I should have done a long time ago, consequences be damned! But first, I think a visit to Arceus is in order...
Secret Rocket Base, Miles Underground; Undisclosed Location...
Pain. Harsh, stabbing pain. It was all that Ash seemed to know. How long had he been trapped in this freakish place? Days? Weeks? Months? Something was slowly robbing him of his health, his sight gone. Without it, he had no sense of time or direction. Not that it mattered now. There was nothing he wished to see or think about at the moment. Every nerve felt as though it were on fire; for all he knew, they were. Screams ripped from his throat with a jagged edge. In the background, hushed voices of the scientists and their boss discussed their future. He couldn't care less. All he wanted was for everything to end.
In Memorium, Day One, (Continued...)
Why are you here? Mewtwo inquired, as the two of them walked down a stone hallway. Lights created by his own psychic energy illuminated the area with a soft, blue glow.
"I came for a visit!" The trainer said, grinning. "I wanted to see how you've been doing."
The mutant raised a hairless brow. You wanted to visit me?
Ash nodded, and Mewtwo felt a strong stab of skepticism.
Any particular reason? Are there not others you would see? If you really wanted to 'see how I am doing', why haven't you bothered until now? It wasn't that he doubted the trainer's words. If anyone was to be trusted, it would be him. Nno, the problem was the psychic-type's lack of self-worth. Why would anyone, other than his creations, want to be in the presence of a monster? A monster that killed his own creators? One that had willingly assisted and sought out companionship in the world's most vile human?
"I haven't had the time." was the teen's hurt response. "It seems like something else happens every time I try."
They stopped walking, and Mewtwo took the chance to scrutinize the person before him. Ash had matured into a rather handsome young man; probably seventeen or eighteen years of age. Those familiar facial features had lost their childish charm – Ash had grown up and out. There were increases in height, muscle and skin tone. Traveling around the world must have kept him in peak physical condition. Overall, the young man had become very appealing as far appearances were concerned – though Mewtwo would never voice that out loud.
Not everything had changed about him, however. The best and most prominent feature were those brown, expressive eyes. They spoke of sincere regret, his aura matching that same feeling; it was quite clear Ash hadn't been lying. Mewtwo looked away, feeling slightly embarrassed and guilty for needlessly upsetting his guest. Why had he gotten so worked up, anyway? It wasn't as if they'd promised to keep in touch.
I apologize for my rudeness. I usually don't have visitors. Unless he counted Mew and her impish little friends, which he didn't. They tended to invade his privacy at very awkward moments, or in the middle of an important breakthrough. Why they insisted was beyond his understanding.
Ash merely shrugged, grinning once more. "Nah, it's fine. We're both sorry, so let's just forget about it!" The trainer's good mood was simply contagious. Mewtwo found himself smiling back – something he'd been doing a lot of lately.
Very well, since you insist. Now, come along! You look as though you've traveled a long way. I'm sure you and your companions would appreciate a chance to rest.
They both knew it was true. While Ash's other Pokemon rested peacefully in their balls, Pikachu lagged behind, completely drained of energy. Noticing this, Ash lifted the little rodent in his arms.
"Uh, thanks! I guess Pikachu and I are pretty worn out. We traveled all the way from Sinnoh in a week!" Mewtwo stared at them incredulously. The psychic-type had only been to Sinnoh once, and that was to gain legendary status. After the rank was established, he'd been forced to endure the celebration that followed. Who knew that Lugia and Ho-oh could drink several thousand bottles of sake between them?
One week! But Sinnoh is half-way across the world! It takes me three days to go there, and that's if I teleport without stopping!
Ash smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, guess we went a little overboard, huh?"
Just a little? Goodness! Next time you have the urge to visit, maybe you should travel by more conventional means? I'm willing to bet that flying by charizard was less than desirable.
"How about you teleport me yourself, then?" Ash replied cheekily. Mewtwo smirked.
We'll see, Ketchum. We'll see.
On the outside, Mewtwo acted as if everything was just fine. Inside him, however, was a world of confusion. This had been the second time he'd been caught of guard by those close around him; it was pleasant, but surreal. The clone had condemned himself to a life of being unwanted and unloved, tolerated at best. Never, in his eight years of awareness, did he predict the exact opposite. Yet here was this person whom other legendary Pokemon spoke highly of, acting as if he actually mattered! Coupled with his earlier realizations, this had become a most unnerving day. Were these feelings that everyone else had? Was it safe to say that clones had the same emotions as organic beings?
Ash laughed. The luxuriously melodic voice triggered a strange warmth across his cheeks. His heart pounded much faster than ever before, almost as if it were fluttering. Since such thoughts were often found in those trite pieces of drivel human girls called "romance novels", he didn't bother to acknowledge it. Instead, the Genetic Pokemon simply reveled in the notion of being wanted – even sought out – by someone.
Miles Away From Blackthorn City...
Mewtwo awoke with a start. He quickly surveyed his surroundings; pine trees as far as the eye could see and not an enemy in sight. He sighed in relief, assuming that a tickle of wind had stirred him from his slumber. After sending a Substitute of himself to Mt. Quena to explain what had transpired, he had begun the dreadfully long journey to Arceus' Hall of Origin. Under normal circumstances, he'd have teleported region-wide, even if the result would've left him considerably weaker. However, the Hall had very specific checkpoints that needed to be visited as a means of security against intruders. Most legendaries had the ability to make portals on their own, but Mewtwo hadn't been born with it – most likely an attribute his creators deemed unnecessary. Thus, the only option was to take the long way. Unfortunately, there were no indications of what was and wasn't a checkpoint. He only had memory to rely on.
Mewtwo had visited five of them so far, and had quite a ways to go. The only thing that kept him moving was the desire to stop Team Rocket once and for all. He had been too soft, allowing them to live out of respect for the brief bond he'd had with Giovanni. With this newest transgression, he no longer held such reservations. Neither would the others, he imagined.
Thinking about these things reminded Mewtwo of the person he wanted to save in the first place. I hope you are well, Ash. I will do everything in my power to ensure your swift return. After all you've had to endure, we owe you that. And so much more.
Lavender orbs looked up and watched as a shooting star streaked through the night sky. While beautiful, it did nothing to ease the growing sense of tension that lingered in the air.
Secret Rocket Base, Miles Underground; Undisclosed Location...
"Stop the tests, boys!" A wheezy male voice spoke, laced with a creepy fascination. "Let him rest for now! We start phase two if the boss approves of it!" Suddenly, after what was possibly a whole day – perhaps longer – the pain finally stopped. Ash felt instant relief as he was unbound from the cold, metal table. He longed to break free of their grasp and go back home, but knew that such a hope was vain.
If only I could see, then maybe...
...no. I already tried that.
After getting a few precious moments to catch his breath, hands forced him up and pushed him to move. What did they care if he wobbled with each step? Whatever the scientists were doing, it didn't bode well for him. Hands treated him roughly the whole way; the person who owned them seemed to enjoy cuffing Ash across the head every so often. Many voices laughed and slurred out insults; men and women alike.
The experience was eerily reminiscent of the way bullies used to gang up on him in primary school. Only back in those days, Ash could fight back, and his mother had always been there. No matter how badly they picked on him, she usually found a way to make everything okay again. In this prison, there was no love or comfort. Crying would only make things worse. No, the only option was to keep cool and avoid conflict. Easier said than done.
"Not so tough now, are you, you little puke?"
"Where's that damn Pikachu of yours now? That Thunderbolt would sure come in handy, wouldn't it?"
Ash took a deep, calming breath. Forget it! They're nothing!
"Ha-ha! I don't get what the boss sees in ya! You don't even stand a chance against us!" It was taking every bit of control to keep quiet. Ash didn't want to give them an excuse to hit him again. Not that one was needed, of course.
It's not worth it.
The one behind him leaned in real close, so that their hot breath tickled his neck. "Don't worry, kid. When you die, we'll pay a visit to that sexy mother of yours! Ii'm sure she'd like a little comfort." That tore it. Fuck control! Fight the freaking high road! He would not stand by while someone threatened the only family he'd ever known!
"Don't you EVER talk about my mom like that!" he screamed, lashing out blindly. Thanks to a moment of pure, dumb luck, his fist connected with someone's face. There was a thud, then laughter from the makeshift audience. A feeling of triumph flooded through Ash for a brief second, before hands began to clamp tightly around his neck.
Air! I need air! He struggled, clawed and kicked, but couldn't break out of the powerful grasp. Either this guy had spent every day working out, or the experiments were doing more harm than he'd thought.
"Think you're hot shit, little faggot?" The same man snarled viciously. "Screw the boss! I'll kill ya right here!"
"Cease this at once, Fifty-Three!" A familiar, loathesome voice boomed. All went quiet, and the man let go. Ash barely stood without dropping, as he tired to get his breathing under control. A thick, tense silence followed, with the exception of a single foot tapping impatiently.
"It – It's not my fault, boss! That little fucker punched me!"
"Right," The voice drawled in contempt. "and I suppose you expect me to believe that someone in his condition would actually be able to hit you?"
"But – !"
"Enough! I don't want to hear another word! The boy is not yours to kill! Besides, I heard what you just said." His tone dropped to a more deadly one. " 'Screw the boss, I'll kill ya right here'. I believe those were your words?" Fifty-Three gupled. "I thought so. Numbers Twenty and Twenty-One, escort Fifty-Three to the Sharpedo Pool."
"Y-yes sir!"
"Right away, boss!"
"No! Anything but that! I'm sorry!" The man pleaded pitifully. "Please, sir! I have a wife and three kids at home! Nooooo!"
A morbid silence overtook the room, but it didn't last long. "What are you imbeciles waiting for, an invitation? Get back to work!" Ash felt a masculine hand grab at his chin, forcing his head up. "Nobody is coming for you. No one has found this base, and they never will." Ash said nothing. Deep down, he knew he was doomed. Nobody would have any idea where to look, not even Pikachu.
"The sooner you tell me their locations, starting with Mewtwo, the sooner your misery can end. This will all go away, and you'll be returned to Pallet tomorrow morning." The crimelord's voice took on a gentle, almost soothing tone. "This is your last chance to accept. I will not make this offer again."
The offer, as always, was sorely tempting. The now daily routine was becoming harder and harder to cope with, and all he wanted was to return home. He wanted, more than anything, to be in the presence of his Pokemon, his friends and mother. Surely they missed him? It wouldn't be fair to upset them any further. At the risk of being conceited, Ash knew that his mother was being hit the hardest out of anyone – how many times had she said her world simply revolved around him? He imagined her in his mind's eye, crying while looking at a picture of him. The thought was enough to break his heart.
There was, however, another side that had to be considered – the legendary Ppokemon that had become both his friends and responsibility. More to the point, he knew exactly what would happen if Team Rocket were to obtain them, if the events of Celebi's first capture by the Iron Masked Marauder were anything to go by. And what of Mewtwo, who had the love and acceptance he so richly deserved? Those lavender eyes held an emotion he hadn't seen in them before – happiness. What would happen if Giovanni decided to target him again? Or worse, kill him? What of the other clones on Mt. Quena? What would they do without their father? The notion made Ash ill, like a swift punch to the gut. It seemed as if either choice would end badly, and yet a decision had to be made. It would be simple to turn his back and forsake them all. However, the rest of his days would be a half-life, knowing that he assisted Team Rocket in their bid for world domination... and damning Mewtwo in the process.
"I-I can't." he choked out with a heavy heart. "I won't betray them."
"So, you would rather die?" Giovanni spat harshly. Ash flinched at the change in tone and nodded. "Fine! I have given you every opportunity to save yourself, and this is what you choose! Seventeen! Twelve! Remove this fool from my sight! Professor Namba will be pleased to start the next phase tomorrow!"
All too quickly, two sets of hands grabbed at Ash, making him walk once more. Not for the first time, he contemplated his fate. After every near miss, this was going to be it. His last moments would be in this cold, evil place...
He was shoved into his cell, and the loud slam of a door made him wince. Ash dropped to his knees, trembling from weakness.
Next time you have the urge to visit, maybe you should travel by more conventional means?
There would be no next time. Never again would he see the beauty of Mt. Quena, or Mewtwo and his clones again. He'd never enjoy another night in the lab, watching with interest as Mewtwo went about his work. Inexplicably, the thought left Ash with a hollow feeling. If he still had tear ducts, he'd cry.
Author's Note: I didn't change too much. Just closed up any future plot holes and fixed up a few errors. Love you guys! :)