Whatever Happened to Sammy Oak?

A continuation of Pokémon 4Ever: Celebi

Note: Italics represent the "voices."

Sammy Oak grew up with voices in his head.

It was (and still is) a majorly unknown side effect of time travel: the voices. Actually, just one voice, like a forgotten echo in his head. It wasn't constant or frequent, predictable or convenient. It was the voice of an older man, maybe in his fifties. He sounded wise, and caring, but funny and quirky too. The voice would usually talk about pokémon. Sometimes, it would mull over a few lines of pokémon poetry, something Sammy had made his closet hobby. Other times it would recite long stings of complex numbers that would make Sammy's head spin. The voice didn't scare Sammy: it was comforting, especially if he was alone. Sometimes, it even sounded like his dad, who had died just a year ago. But one of the most interesting things the voice would talk about was Ash.

Sam Oak never forgot Ash, or Celebi.

Every so often, he would go back to that wood where he first met the tiny green pokémon. It never came out, but he could feel it near, and that was enough. Sam remembered his friend Ash there, and Ash's future world. The voice in Sam's head had started to fade, but now that Sam was 16, he had more and more questions about his strange adventure. What was the future like? Even on his two-day visit, even in the thick of the forest, he had seen things he never thought possible. There were machines that responded to your voice, navigation systems on a tiny screen, and mysterious medicines that worked near instantly. Sam was impatient for the time when these wonders were seen everyday, when even pokéballs were magical.

The next month, Sam came back to the woods for his seventeenth birthday. Last week, Sam had won his country school science fair for his new, revolutionary pokéball design and prototype. The scientific community had caught wind of his discovery, and he was now daily swamped with professors at the door and journalists all wanting to be the first to officially present the wonder to the world. There were talks of going to Europe, of new suits, and scientific conferences. People were saying that his discovery could change pokémon training forever. His mother, a quiet, plain woman was overwhelmed and stressed, fussing around the house as of she expected reporters to start crawling in the windows. He often came out here now to escape, and think about what he would do, and how he should act in the sudden public limelight. At first, Sam had felt guilty for copying Ash's pokéball, as if he was stealing someone else's work, but he quickly realized that work was his own. The calculations flowed from his head to the paper, as if they had just been waiting to be released. Besides, though it was stressful, Sam realized he liked getting recognition for his work. He actually felt good talking to the reporters, and putting on a show. Everyone hailed him as a genius, and Sam felt that along side pokémon training, he had finally found something he was good at. But there were still questions unanswered: who was his friend Ash? Why had Celebi taken him and Ash on the adventure through time? Was it just coincidence? And most importantly, what was Ash's last name? In forty or so years, how would he find the one newborn he was looking for?

"Oh, oh look, O-ah! Look what I caught!"

"Very good, Ash. That's a splendid Magikarp."

How did his voice know Ash? And, what did Ash say about a Pokédex?

At 26 years old, S. Oak was one of Kanto's top 15 trainers. Never mind that he was #14. He was a cool, slick trainer, and a brilliant scientist. At 21, he had compiled a full color, full text, up to date, first ever Pokédex. It was crude, and clunky, nothing like the sleek machine that Ash once casually pulled out of his pocket, but it was a pokédex. Someday…

When S. Oak wasn't training with his pokémon, or researching under his mentor, Prof. Rowan, he had taken to writing down what he could remember of his voices. He almost never heard them anymore, but he had finally realized the relevance of the voice: that voice was his own, in thirty years time. Somehow, in the future he had found Ash, though a younger one. When he first realized this, he had almost burst out crying. Though he tried not to think about it when he was younger (and sometimes succeeded—months could go past without sparing Ash or the future a thought) he often missed Ash, even if he had only known him for two or three days. The boys had been almost identical—they were meant to be friends.

But now he had a new friend to occupy his time. He and Ketchum had met at a pokémon tournament, and had become fast friends. He was older than Ketchum by a few years—but just enough to be like an older (and certainly calmer) brother. Ketchum was a lot like he remembered Ash. They were competitive, fun and outgoing, always ready for a challenge or just a snuggle with their pokémon. They were also both a bit dense, often with hilarious results. Sometimes, he could swear Ketchum even looked like Ash, with his crazy black hair sticking up all over. All in all, they could have been related—but what were the chances of that? Speaking of which, he had to get going—Ketchum wanted him to meet his new girlfriend, named…Delia. Yeah, that was it. Delia.

"Professor! Want to come with us? We're going to watch the wild Oddish that live up by the stream!"

"Yeah, c'mon Grandpa!"

"Okay, boys, hold on a second. All right if I take them out, Delia?"

"Sure, just have Ash home by dinner. Mr. Ketchum needs to help him with his math homework."

Mr. Ketchum? Grandpa?

At 41, everyone thought Junior Prof. Oak knew everything.

Those strings of data that used to give him headaches now flew through his head as fast as light, and presented themselves in his research. He worked with pokémon, played with them, learned their secrets. As of this time, he had discovered 7 new species, and had proved the existence of Mew in one location. He also seemed to have developed an uncanny knack for measuring the relationship between a pokémon and a human, and had amazed many of his collogues with the unexpected skill. And, though no one knew it, he did know almost everything about his future. Over the years, from the voices in his head, he'd been able to piece together what his future should look like by the time Ash was around. Though he wasn't positive, he figured it should be about 7 more years before Ash was even born. There was really no time to be worrying about future babies now though. For 5 years since their wedding, Ketchum and Delia had been trying to have a child, and now, finally, the baby was almost here. Delia had woken up in histrionics last night, begging to be taken to the hospital, and the doctor had confirmed it: today was the day. Mr. and Mrs. Ketchum were both waiting in suspense at the emergency room now, and Jr. Prof. Oak was on his way now. The happy couple had opted to keep the sex of the baby a surprise, and if they had finalized a name they sure weren't telling. He started to feel a strange restlessness, and told his taxi driver to step on it. One way or another, he just had to be there when the baby was born.

"Tell us another story, Professor! How about the one with Moltress?"

"Please, Grandpa?"

Finally, he arrived at the hospital. He jogs in, and demands the Ketchum's room number from the flustered nurse behind the counter.

"Look how tall I am, Professor! I'm almost ten!"

"So I see, Ash, so I see."

"I'm going to be a Pokémon Master, Professor! I'll be the most powerful trainer ever!"

"You and Gary both, eh?"

Silence. "Gary doesn't like me any more."

What was that? Why now? He hadn't heard the voices in years…no time to analyze it now. He blasts down the hallway, and nearly crashes into the nurse posted outside the Ketchum's room.

"Oh, you must be, uh…"

"Junior Professor Oak. Samuel."

She briskly shakes his hand. "Yes, Mr. Ketchum told me you would be here. Would you like to come in?"

"No, thank you. Just tell them I'm here, please."

"No problem." The nurse slips inside the room, and he leans against the wall, panting. Just as he's catching his breath, another voice comes to him. It's not a future voice, but a rough young boy's voice, one he hasn't heard in years. It's Ash.

I promise, Sammy, I'll see you again. Somehow. Sometime. No matter what.

The last words Ash shouted to him as Celebi pulled him back through the time portal and into his own reality.

Bi! Bi! Bi! Ce-le-bi!

And suddenly, from with in the room, there comes a groan. Another one. A yell of pain. Images are flying thick and fast through his head now, pictures he hasn't seen in years.

CelebiSuicuneAsh(WhyIsThisHappeningIShouldFocusOnTheBaby…)ForestTallTreeAshMistyBrockPokemonForestTallTreeAshMistyBrockPokemon

WhiteWaterLakeofHealingCelebibibiGiantMonsterTwigsScratchingClimbtheVinesFlyingEatingBerries

WatchtheButterfreeArmAroundSoWarmsowarmsowarmsowarmsowarm…

Celebi and Pikachu.

How could he have been so stupid?

Another cry from the room, and a frantic Mr. Ketchum trying to soothe Delia. One more push—

"1…2…3!"

And ringing out from the room is the lusty cry of a very healthy baby.

After another ten minutes, he is invited in. Ketchum bounds up to him, face stretched in a crazy grin.

"Oh, Oak, it's a boy! A wonderful baby boy! I can't believe it. And he's strong and healthy, and everything! Oh, I just can't wait to let my pokémon meet him! It's a boy! A boy!"

"Whoa there, Ketchum. Do I get to meet the little guy?" Oak slaps a grin on, but his heart is pounding. This is going to be strange.

"Yes. Yes! Delia darling, can I have our little boy for just one second? Oak needs to meet him."

"Of course, sweetheart. Just for a second, though. And remember to—"

"Support his head, yes, I know!"

"How are you Delia? Congratulations," he interjected, trying to keep the peace.

"I'm just fabulous, thanks. Here, sweetheart, arms out."

After a few seconds of negotiations, the baby ended up in Oak's arms, and right away, Oak knew.

I promise, Sammy, I'll see you again. Somehow. Sometime. No matter what.

"Hi, Ash," he whispered to the tiny child.

"Ash? How did you know we were going to name him Ash? We just decided this morning." Ketchum chuckled, too hyper to be silenced. "Guess you do know everything after all."

Jr. Prof. Oak smiled back weakly.

"Welcome to the family, Ash Ketchum," Ketchum says, taking Ash back and holding him close. "Our son."

At 41, the now newly made Professor Oak became a grandfather.

Some might think this very young to be a grandfather, but Prof. Oak's point of view was, as ever, unique. The same year the Ketchums had Ash, Prof. Oak decided to adopt. He had never felt any strong inclination towards getting married, and it didn't look like it was going to happen. Why shouldn't he be a single father? The only problem was, when he took home the adorable 1-year old boy with chestnut hair and dimples, he couldn't bring himself to tell the boy to call him "Dad." Daddy and Pop were no goes either. He simply felt too…old for the names, as ridiculous as that was. In the course of his research, all the harrowing experiences he had lived through, and all the joy and pain of discovery, he now felt mentally closer to 60. Grandfather was really the only thing that fit. He even looked the part, having gone grey early. It didn't make a difference as to how much he loved the little boy, so who cares what he was called? He was told by the woman who ran the orphanage that he could give the little boy a name, too, but only now: very soon the boy's idea of self would start to sink in, and he would need a solid name. Prof. Oak decided to name the boy Gary after Prof. Oak's own father, the legendary Prof. Gary Oak. As soon as the boys were old enough, Prof. Oak and the Ketchums got the boys together, and soon the toddlers were inseparable friends.

"Just like their fathers before them, eh Oak?" Ketchum would joke.

"Just like."

At 49, Prof. Oak saw his predictions coming true.

Little Gary was just as cute (and confident) as could be for a just-9-year-old. Little Ash, (still 8) lagged a bit behind, but made up for it in spirit. He was just as Oak remembered him. Oak knew what would be coming in the years ahead, but he kept it entirely to himself. Who would believe him? Certainly not the two sweet little boys chasing around a Raticate on his back porch.

"Hey, Grandpa, look!"

Gary was showing off again, climbing on the fire ladder, and dangling by a hand.

"Gary, get down from there. We all know you're a good climber, but maybe you can climb the cherry tree down there? It's a lot more fun." And safer, he added to himself.

"Okay, I'll show ya! C'mon Ash, race ya! Bet ya can't beat me, Ashy!"

Sometimes Prof. Oak wished that his voices had talked more about Gary. He was an exceptionally bright and daring boy, but there was a streak of arrogance in his personality that Prof. Oak worried would get him in trouble someday.

At 53, Professor Oak received a phone call from Ash and his friends asking about a Suicune, and Prof. Oak knew that the time was now. Over the next few days, Ash would have an adventure that would change them both forever. After Ash cheerfully hung up, he considered that he should have prepared him for the coming days, even just a bit. He didn't remember Ash taking Celebi's apparent death at all easily. Then again, neither had he. But things would play out as they were meant to be. The only problem left was: would he ever tell Ash who Sammy really was? He realized with a laugh that he'd had over 40 years to think about this, yet never reached an answer. It was going to be a long three days.

Professor Oak sat bolt upright in bed, panting and shaking. What was happening? His room started to glow with a blue-green light, which he belatedly realized was coming from him. And though it was hundreds of miles to the west in the far reaches of Johto and across 40 years time, he realized that he could hear Celebi's song. Celebi was entering this time. What he was feeling was the result of the space-time continuum displacement. He relaxed, and lay back down, watching the colors he was projecting play across the ceiling. Celebi's song was high and sweet, irresistible. A tiny, leafy siren, Celebi was. He wanted so badly to be in his younger body now, to be free to go on adventures. To re-experience the wonder of a futuristic world. To be Ash's friend again, instead of practically his grandfather. He was still Sammy Oak inside, sometimes.

"I hope you'll be free, Sammy. Free to go back to your own world."

"Thanks, Ash."

Prof. Oak turned to look out the glass doors to the balcony. Outside, far away from the city lights, the sky was ablaze with stars. Wisps of clouds drifted from constellation to constellation, breaking and bending their light, and in front of the moon. It would be full, soon. The bellossom would be doing their moon dance soon.

He and Ash would be watching the stars too. Stars and the newly evolved Butterfree. Oak stretched a hand out to the stars, and made the classic V, for victory, something he had seen Ash do more than once, then and now.

"Go get 'em, Ash."

Ash was due to call any time this morning, and Prof. Oak still didn't know what to say. How could he? He decided just to wing it. Hopefully, whatever was meant to be would be. He spent all day pacing the lab, back and forth. He knew Ash hadn't figured out who he was before he'd left but afterwards…? Just how strange would this phone call be?

At about 10:00am, Tracey got up. Prof. Oak didn't blame him: he had stayed up until 2 in the morning last night sorting papers. They had been re-organizing the lab's paper records for several weeks now, and had just started on the "Z" section last night. Prof. Oak had gone to bed with a headache, but Tracey had faithfully kept at it. Sometimes, he didn't know what he would do without that boy.

At last, the much anticipated (dreaded) phone call came just before dinner. The immediate good news was that they hadn't yet figured it out. At least, they didn't say anything. Brock and Misty were lively and animated, tripping over their words to tell the story. It matched his memories exactly. But Ash, for once, was strangely silent. Brock and Misty either didn't notice, or pretended not to, but his tiny pikachu clung to him, seemingly worried.

"What's the matter, Ash?" Prof. Oak asked innocently. "You haven't said a single word yet. Didn't you have fun, too?"

"Oh, sure, Professor. But, you see…I met this pokémon trainer and we got to be friends, but I…I just don't think I'm ever going to see him again. He decided to go back to where he came from, Professor. To another time." Ash starts to tear up.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry Ash," Prof. Oak says, trying to sound casual.

"Oh?"

"True friendships can withstand the test of time, and I have a feeling this one will. I'm sure you and Sammy will be friends forever."

"Mmm…"Ash brightens, nods, looks at him like the trusting little boy he is. "Thanks Professor. Talk to you later." He hung up.

As soon as the screen went dark, Tracey scurried up, excited.

"Professor! Look what I found between Z-C and Z-D!"

In Tracey's hand was his old sketchbook. The one he had had with Celebi.

"Thank you, Tracey," Prof. Oak says, taking the book. "How about you take some time off? Misty called earlier, you should probably call her back."

"Oh, sure, Professor. Thanks!" He raced out the door.

Prof. Oak dropped into the console seat, and flipped through the book. The last drawing was the one he made of Celebi and Pikachu. Taking a pen, he wrote underneath: Sammy and Ash.

"I remember it like it was yesterday…"

When Prof. Oak was 57, he was packing boxes. This lab was very old, almost as old as he was. It was time to move on. They had built a new one, not far from here. Still, it would be hard to say goodbye.

Ash and friends had made a special trip here to help him pack, and currently the lab was in chaos.

"Professor! What should I do with this?"

"Professor! Where does this go?"

On and on. It was giving him a major headache. Eventually, he told the kids he needed a break. He went to his room, and plopped down on the bed. Thank goodness. Silence.

It didn't last long.

After 10 minutes, there was a knock at his door. Probably one of the kids with another packing list to approve.

"Come in!" he called, not bothering to look.

He heard the door ease open, but no eager teen bombarded him with questions. Instead, he heard a soft, shuddering breath, and then,

"Sammy?" It was Ash.

Prof. Oak froze. He never expected…today? After a few long seconds, he turned. Ash was in the doorway, tears in his eyes, his Pikachu at his side.

He was holding Sammy's journal of drawings.

"What?"

"Professor…Samuel Oak. You're Sammy." Ash came into the room, staggered.

"How did you find out?"

"Your journal. You wrote 'Sammy and Ash' in it. I found it under a file cabinet."

"Z-C—Z-D. Of course."

"You…you are Sammy, aren't you?"

"I've been a lot of things since I first met you, Ash. But yes, I am still Sammy."

"I…I missed you. Why did you never tell me?"

"I missed you too. And…it's a bit strange. You've always known me as your almost-grandfather, and I didn't want to take that away."

Ash looks at him, and suddenly, he's no longer the slightly obnoxious, confident 16 year old, but a small, innocent boy, happy to have found a friend.

"You know," he says, smiling shyly. "I think it's almost time for the Metapod to evolve."

Sammy smiles back. "We'll go see them. I promise."

Fin