I kind of figured that I had no right to harp on about there not being any MangaShipping on fanfiction when I don't even write (pure) MS myself. So here it is, a one-shot (my only one-shot by the way because Can't Go Back is really an original short-story with the Pokémon characters inserted and therefore does not count as anything at all) all about Brock and Sabrina, although mostly Brock.
I like to think of this as a 'bastardization of the anime and the manga', taking liberties from the episode of both that introduce Sabrina. You'll understand as you read on. Quite surprisingly, this story is actually set within the time period of the anime – the first season in fact so I think it's a nice excuse for us all to reminisce to the good old days when there was no one else for Ash but Misty and although Brock seemed to fall in love with almost every girl he met, it wasn't nearly as creepy.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Pokémon. If you were expecting something witty here, go read my other fics.
Brock: A Short History
Brock knew everything there was to know about the gym leaders. He knew all of them by name, type, and location. That's what made him so handy to have on this journey.
Obviously he had concealed some key details about the Cerulean gym leaders for Misty's sake, but Ash seemed to have forgiven him for that being quite taken with said gym leader for reasons we won't go into here. Either that, or it still hadn't occurred to Ash that Brock knew exactly who Misty was right from the beginning.
My money's on the latter . . .
The one thing that Brock never told them was where his infinite knowledge came from. Many just assumed it to come from gym conferences or something similar, and there had been a lot of these in the past (even the most sensible gym leader could not resist such an excuse to get uproariously drunk with good friends), but these occurred quite some time ago when many of the current gym leaders were mere children and the gym's themselves run by their now estranged parents.
A dispute between the Celadon and Viridian gym leaders over whether ground really consisted of a type had split the leaders into various factions years ago, before Brock was even born. The leaders became even more divided when the former Saffron gym leader disputed Koja's use of secondary type psychic Pokémon, claiming that only the Psychic gym should be able to use psychic Pokémon, regardless of whether it was primary, secondary or even tertiary. This had set them all at odds over secondary types and pure Pokémon, breaking down the relationship between all the gyms in the Kanto region.
Battle lines were drawn. Friends became enemies. And then people died, or simply left in Brock's case, and new leaders took their place; leaders that had no idea or what had gone before, and no inclination to undo it.
Even if the conferences had still be in existence, it would be near impossible for Brock to leave his family to attend them. He was a fifteen year old boy taking care of children as young as four. Clearly his knowledge came from other sources.
Truth be told, the rivalries between the gyms didn't really come to head until Brock was 6 or 7, leaving him several years to socialize with many future gym leaders. The conferences had long since been abandoned, with nobody wanting to be caught in the same room as BellaDonna and Giovanni when they got started, but small one-on-one social visits were still quite acceptable.
Some gym leaders he came to know better than others: Celadon, Cerulean and Saffron particularly as they held the next generation of gym leaders along with Brock himself. Pewter and Cerulean were the last of the gym's to fall out of touch with one another; what with 'rock' and 'water' being logically inconsistent they had little to quibble over. He recalled many a play date with the three older Yawa sisters before they had been nearly so 'sensational', playing 'Doctors and Nurses' whenever possible.
Lt. Surge used to make frequent visits to the Pewter gym in the olden days. Brock could even remember the first time he had seen the electric Pokémon loving gym leader. He had made quite the entrance with a tempestuous Pikachu by his side as he strolled commandingly into the house, as a young man of 20. Surge had given him his first Pokeball, although he had no idea what to do with it and ended up trading it with an older boy called Lance for a picture of the Officer Jenny who patrolled the Indigo Plateaux. Brock often wondered what he did with that picture.
Almost every gym leader had been a part of his life and shaped it in some way. Even Giovanni had inspired an interest in Brock in fighting type Pokémon when he showed his Machamp off to the small boy in a remarkable display of strength and grace. It seemed only right to the Pokémon breeder that, given their impact, he should maintain a healthy knowledge of their happenings in honour of the memories he held.
To him it seemed the only reasonable thing to do.
What he definitely didn't tell them was of the memory he treasured most and the parting he had felt deepest. He told no one of a sapphire-eyed little girl he used to know, with jade locks and soft gentle laugh.
He had met her in much the same ay he had the Yawa sisters, tagging along one day when his father went to visit the Saffron gym leader. Brock loved visiting gyms with his father, and even dreamed of the day when he would take over as the Pewter gym leader.
"Now Brock," his father warned, kneeling low to look his four-year-old son in the eye, "this gym isn't quite like the others." He looked thoughtful for a moment as he tried to work out the west way to explain the psychic presence at the gym to the young boy. "They have magic powers."
Brock's mouth gaped open and his brows rose in awe. A magical gym leader! Well that was certainly something that none of the other kids would be able to compare to. There was no doubt what Brock's news item would be at kindergarten on Monday.
Brock's father knocked lightly on the door as Brock seemed to simmer beside him with excitement. The door appeared to open entirely on its own fruition, which pleased Brock immensely. They were greeted by a tall, severe looking man in a dark coat, who didn't say a word as he led them towards the battle arena at the opposite end of the gym.
Laughter, soft and melodious, could be heard drifting from the arena.
"Very good, Sabrina," a deep male voice called joyously in response, laughter evident in his tone.
The laughter died as Brock and his father entered the room, and the owner of the laugh ran to her father's side. She hid protectively behind him, her crystal blue eyes watching everyone with interest and intrigue.
"Flint, it's good to see you," the Saffron gym leader voice bellowed cheerfully. "This must be your boy Brock."
Flint nodded. "It's good to see you too, Arthur," he replied. "I take it Sabrina's doing well." The two men embraced in a manly hug as though it had been some time since the two had seen each other.
"She's well surpassed all our other students," Arthur told Flint proudly, smiling down at his five-year-old daughter.
Sabrina's eyes were trained on the younger boy who stared back at her in wonder. His gaze was disconcerting and made her blush for reasons she couldn't understand. "Why are you looking at me?" she asked finally, her look as incredulous as a five-year-old could manage.
"Do you have magic powers too?" Brock asked quietly, almost at a whisper, reverence and awe in his voice.
"I guess," Sabrina replied both shyly and suspiciously. "Although it's not really magic."
"Oh," Brock said sadly, his disappointment showing all over his face.
Sabrina's blue eyes clouded with worry as she saw his interest in her wane. It was a strange feeling for the young psychic who had never before craved the company or attention of someone her own age, to suddenly feel so lost at the prospect of it being taken away.
"I'll show you," she said quickly, trying to capture his previous wonderment. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. "Watch the door," she added in a low, eerie voice.
Brock turned his gaze to where she indicated as a small ginger bear floated in surrounded by a blue glow, seemingly dancing the can-can. It floated above them continuing its little dance until the adults noticed its presence.
"Sabrina, no showing off," Arthur chastised, breaking her concentration and causing the bear to fall into Brock's open arms. His awed gaze fell on Sabrina once again. The look of admiration in his eyes made her blush wildly and turn her eyes modestly to the ground.
"That was definitely magic," the boy cried gleefully, clutching the bear in his hands.
Sabrina shook her head. "Tel – le – kin – ne – sis," she said, pronouncing each syllable in an exact manner to ensure she got it exactly right. Telekinesis is not an easy word for a five-year-old to get his or her mouth around.
Brock was easily impressed by her ability to say a word that had more letters than he had fingers. "What's telephone-knee-sister?" he asked, pouncing on the little bits he recognised of the word formulated by Sabrina and running with them.
She laughed, a smile forming on her face and her eyes lighting with pleasure. Whatever wall she had up earlier to guard herself seemed to fall away as that melodious laugh filled the room once again.
"Tel-le-kin-ne-sis," she said again, in that same exact manner but not as slowly. "It means I can make things move just by thinking about them."
"Can you make me move?" Brock asked his voice hushed as he cautiously eyed their fathers to make sure they hadn't heard.
"Sure," Sabrina replied, her voice mischievous, but going unnoticed by Brock. She closed her eyes just like before, and took a deep breath, and then suddenly . . .
"TAG! You're it!" she cried, tapping his shoulder lightly.
"No fair!" Brock replied, chasing after her. She had clearly succeeded as the task she was charged with, because he was moving speedily across the room gaining on her in spite of her initial head start.
And when he finally caught her, she was his forever. An incredible friendship was formed in those few moments, and he was never as close to anyone else in his life as he had been to Sabrina.
It only made sense that Brock and Sabrina were the best of friends from that moment onwards. He was closer to her than he was to any of the other gym leaders/future gym leaders, or any of the kids at school.
Of the younger generation, the Yawa's were able to boast both the youngest and eldest next generation. At five years their junior, Brock was more than used to being pushed around by Violet, Lily and Daisy, bending to their every whim. Erika and Misty sat at the other end other spectrum. At 12 and 15, the three-year age gab between him self and Misty had no effect on his and Misty's friendship. In contrast, it did throw up some barriers between a five-year-old and a two-year-old, especially when said five-year-old was trying to impress said two-year-old's ten-year old sisters by proving he wasn't a baby.
He often considered how fortunate they all were that Misty had no memory of Brocks visits. He suspected if she knew about the time when Brock and Violet got married and were looking after their baby Misty who went and annoyed Violet by showing a marked preference for Daddy Brock rather than Mummy Violet (the girl had always been so contrary), she would have been scarred for life.
Brock must have been about 9 the last time he saw Sabrina. He wondered if that last meeting would have been different if they had known at the time. Their parents had been forced to keep in contact due to the almost unlikely friendship, just waiting for the first opportunity to pull them apart.
Sabrina had been training intensively, and she had finally gotten the knack for something she knew Brock had been dying to see since their first meeting. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing as a blue glow surrounded Brock. He was the heaviest thing she had ever attempted to move, but she was determined that if she was going to do it, she would have to do it now before he got any bigger.
He moved slowly at first, then faster, racing into the air until he was hovering almost three meters above the ground. But before she could lower him back down, a loud noise broke her concentration, and Brock fell quickly and without resistance, twisting his right ankle as he hit the ground.
It was exactly excuse the elder gym leaders were looking for.
"Look at your daughter," Flint growled, glaring at Arthur. "She just injured my son with your stupid powers." He hissed the final words lowly, barely even looking at the children who tried to beg them not to do what they were about to do.
"Look at my daughter?" Arthur asked, his voice low and vehement. "It's your son's fault this even happened. He was the one encouraging her to use her powers so recklessly. If you had taught him anything Flint, this never would have happened."
"I don't know what you're implying, Arthur," Flint spat out, gathering his son towards him protectively. Tears sprung to Brock's eyes as his pleas went unnoticed by his father. "I will not be insulted like this in my own house. My son did no such thing. It's your psychotic daughter that's the problem, and I will not let my son be corrupted by such a bad egg."
"I knew I never should have let her near that boy," Arthur argued back, grabbing the sobbing Sabrina's hand and dragging her away. "Come Sabrina," he said shortly. "We'll go home and you can work on your training without such distractions."
And with that Sabrina and her father were gone. A quick teleport from Pewter to Saffron was no big deal when you had been simply biding your time for the last three years.
Brock's mother died about a year after that. And any hopes that Brock had of finding Sabrina on his own were quashed when his father decided to go chasing after some pipe dream, leaving a twelve-year-old Brock to raise his nine brothers and sisters.
He never really worked out for which incident he refused to forgive his father – for deserting him and his family, or for pulling him away from his closest friend. He just knew that whichever it was, it truly was unforgivable.
But Brock revealed none of this to his companions as they made their way to a building so familiar to him, whose doors seemed to open on their own fruition. He smiled benignly as Ash showed the psychics how he too could bend a spoon with his mind. He turned his gaze from Arthur who saved them from Sabrina's wrath, containing his rage like the good friend he was.
And when they returned for the second battle, he just stared sadly into her dull blue eyes, restraining his emotions as best he could. The eyes gave her away. This person looked like Sabrina, they sounded like Sabrina, they even smelt like Sabrina – but this person definitely wasn't Sabrina, at least not the way he remembered her.
Where was the laughter? Where was the sparkle in her sapphire blue eyes? Where was her smile?
He couldn't believe she was gone.
'I'm sorry,' he whispered softly in his mind, hoping she would hear. 'I'm sorry I wasn't there fore you. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you. I'm sorry that I gave up.'
Sabrina's gaze turned on him suddenly, returning his stare. Her mouth soundlessly formed words that he could understand. Something in her eyes changed ever so slightly and a small tear trailed down the side of her face.
"Brina," he breathed softly, the slight glimmer in her eyes raising his hopes. Questions seemed to hang on his lips unasked as she nodded her head slowly in response to them, her lips soundlessly forming his name.
"Do you have magic too?" she asked helplessly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Save me."
Without warning or notice, Sabrina's body went limp and she fell to the floor in a lifeless heap. Brock was at her side in a second, checking her pulse and breathing.
"Sabrina," he called, his voice desperate. "Sabrina, please wake up."
The doll glowed in the corner, drawing the attention of the room's conscious inhabitants as it morphed back to its true form. Brock, Ash and Misty gaped as a large haunter glowered at the before vanishing into nothing.
"Not again," Brock muttered as he gathered Sabrina protectively in his arms, and pulled her into his lap. He gently stroked her fair and face, praying silently she would be ok.
"What do you mean 'not again'?" Misty asked, kneeling down beside Brock and Sabrina. "What's wrong with her?"
"When we were little, Sabrina got attacked by a haunter," Brock explained, his voice low and his eyes trained on Sabrina's unconscious form. "It almost killed the both of us – it probably would have if she hadn't fought it the way she did.
"But she's not strong enough," he continued, his features darkening with worry. "That thing has been feeding on her power. She's suffering from dream eater."
"What do we do?" Ash asked, his voice full of its usual determination. It was like the kid got a kick out insurmountable odds sometimes.
"I don't know," Brock sighed, his voice heavy with emotion, "but if she doesn't wake up in the next twenty four hours, there's nothing we can do."
With Ash and Misty's help, Brock brought Sabrina to her room. It hadn't changed all that much from what he remembered, but he was sure that was more to do with Sabrina's ambivalence rather than any nostalgia for their time together.
Misty quickly dismissed Ash as only she could, sending him on some ridiculous errand. She sent him to the supermarket in search of tea, but with the qualification that it "not be anything too fancy". She knew the ambiguities of the sentence combined with the wide selection of teas available would be enough to occupy him for a good hour or so.
"Brock, why didn't you tell us you were friends with Sabrina?" Misty asked as soon as Ash was suitably occupied, leaving them alone with the patient.
"You never asked," Brock shrugged as he pulled a chair over to her bedside so he could sit and watch over her while she slept. He patiently waited for any sign that she might wake, hoping for the best.
"And you didn't think it was relevant?" Misty asked, her tone becoming exasperated at his refusal to enlighten her to the intimate details of his relationship with Sabrina.
"I guess," Brock replied, annoying her further with his placated vagueness. "Although, I suppose it's no more relevant that you technically being the current Cerulean gym leader, but I kept to myself," he added.
"I never asked you not to tell," she replied sulkily, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Yes but it was sort implied by the fact that you weren't telling anyone, and by anyone I mean Ash. And those nervous looks you gave me every time anyone – and again, by anyone I mean Ash – mentioned the gym."
Misty glared at him quickly, letting his comments slide this time only because that they had more important matters to concern themselves with. If it weren't for look of concern washed across his features as he looked upon Sabrina, she would not have hesitated to use her mallet on her friend.
She sighed as she carefully perched herself on the end of Sabrina's bed. "Tell me a story, Brock," she said, the thought coming to her suddenly.
"About what?" he said.
"About her," Misty said softly. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"
"Because she wasn't Sabrina," he said cryptically. He sighed as he tried to find the words to explain himself properly, "at least, not the Sabrina I know."
He sighed pensively as his mind turned to Misty's request. He had a lot of stories about Sabrina – none of his favourite stories could even exist without her – but he wondered if he could even tell them to justice.
"Brock . . ." Misty said softly, her voice unusually sympathetic, but Brock cut her off before she could go any further.
"You don't understand . . ." he muttered quietly, "that person you met . . . she's not like that at all. That was haunter . . . which means, she's in there somewhere and she wants me to save her."
"Tell me a story," Misty said again, her request sounding soft but urgent. "Tell me about her."
"I guess we had a lot of adventures," he said finally after pausing to think things through. "Right from the beginning she said that day's with me were the one chance she had to be a kid and think of things other than her training, and she refused to spend it sitting indoor doing nothing. She was the smart one, so there was no point trying to argue with her. Even a rainy day inside was an adventure to Sabrina.
He looked thoughtful, almost wistful as he told his story to Misty. "We went exploring the gym, pretending that we were exploring some ancient tomb and that anyone who crossed our path was after us or trying to prevent us from reaching the treasure room. I've never met anyone with an imagination quite like Sabrina's," he said, with something very like pride brimming in his voice. "We snuck around the gym for about two hours, creeping around corners, facing our foes, and overcoming any obstacle that stood in our way.
"A stray rattata crossed our path, probably sneaking inside for shelter from the rain, and I scared it away by showing off my incredible prowess of the ancient art of 'Fujitsu'," he laughed, recalling the memory. "I think it was just bored and walked away on its own accord. But like I said Sabrina had an incredible imagination. And she just laughed, and smiled, and kissed my cheek, and she said . . ." he trailed off, his voice becoming wistful once again.
"Good thing you'll always be around to save me, Brock," a small voice said, finishing Brock's story for him.
Relief washed over him as sapphire blue eyes stared up at him.
His left hand reached instinctively for hers, entangling their fingers, and he hardly noticed as Misty left the room making some excuse about tea. The rest of the world seemed to fade away around them and there was nothing left but her. She looked a little worse for wear from her ordeal (the colour was yet to fully return to her cheeks) but she was definitely Sabrina this time.
"Sabrina," he said softly, a smile tugging on his lips.
"Brock," she smiled back at him, tears welling in her eyes. "I missed you."
"Me too," Brock said, smiling back down at her. His face clouded over with apprehension momentarily as he continued, "I was so worried . . . I thought . . . I was afraid you wouldn't come back."
She smiled up at him again, the look in her eyes deeply meaningful as she tried to convey some of her thoughts with her eyes alone. "Of course I came back. I just had to follow your voice. You brought me back."
Blushes crept over both their cheeks. For a long moment the two stayed in a peaceful silence, locked in their own thoughts, but comfortable in each other's company. The silence was broken by Sabrina throwing back the covers and propping herself up from her sleeping position.
"What do you think you're doing?" Brock asked sternly, jumping up from his seat and trying to force her back into her bed. "You need rest."
Sabrina smiled, glad to see that he hadn't changed at all. He was still trying to look after her and protect her, even though she was the elder of the two. She had missed feeling so safe for so very long.
"I think I've had enough rest," she replied, her eyes sparkling playfully in spite of the connotation.
"C'mon Brock," she added, drawing out his name as she looked up at him pleadingly, the perfect puppy dog playing on her lips. "You can't expect me to stay in bed on a day like this. The sun is out, the weather is just right, and it's the first time I've seen my best friend in more than five years."
"You just had to drag me into this, didn't you?" he sighed, returning her playful look as he stepped aside to let her out of the bed. Those eyes had defeated him again.
She smiled, laughing at her own victory as she swung her legs gracefully over the side of the bed. The sound of the laughter seemed to send his heart racing immediately. He had forgotten how much he loved her laugh.
She pushed herself off the bed in one fluid movement. She started to sway as soon as she was fully upright, but Brock was there ready to catch her in his arms and hold her steady.
'I'll always be there to save you,' he thought to him self.
She smiled shyly as she looked up at him with gratitude shining in her eyes. He couldn't help but smile back. She was more beautiful that he remembered; her hair long and straight, cascading down her back; her yes clear and brilliant, framed by soft black lashes; her frame strong but delicate, fitting perfectly next to his own like the final piece of the puzzle; and her lips . . .
Her lips were entrancing him, forcing his heart to beat fervently in his chest, forcing his breath to catch in the back of his throat, forcing him to bend his head down, bringing him ever closer to those lips . . .
Sabrina seemed to respond instinctively to his movement. She tilted her head up towards him and, drawing her body closer to his, eliminated whatever space had been left between them. Her eyes fluttered shot and black lashes rested gently against her pale cheeks.
He tried to think back to the moment he fell in love with Sabrina, but his mind wouldn't let him, too caught up in this current moment. He suspected that it was the memory he had described to Misty. That first feel of her lips against his cheek had left him wondering what it would be like to kiss her like he saw adults do in movies.
At the time he hadn't really understood what love was, but he had decided that he was going to spend the rest of his life with Sabrina. He had known that it would probably kill him if they ever parted, it probably did, but now he she was standing right in front of him and this was the longed for moment.
He gently sought her lips with his own, pressing against them with soft touches. His arms enveloped her completely, bringing her even closer to him so he could feel her every move; the way she leaned into him and relaxed into his body was more than he could have dreamed of.
She clung to his chest, one hand creeping behind his neck and deepening the kiss. He could feel her fingers playing with his short spikes of hair as he ran his hand up and down her back. She shivered at his touch, which only served to intensify his own feelings.
They broke apart breathlessly, staring into each other's eyes, shimmering with happiness.
Sabrina sighed with pleasure, as she leaned into his chest, not yet ready to lose the feeling of being in his arms. He was exactly the right height that she could comfortably nestle her head under his chin and he could gently kiss forehead with very little movement, which he did, which in turn made her sigh again.
"I wish we never would have had to part," she sighed into his chest. "It's all my fault. I never should have attempted that – it was far too dangerous."
"Hush," he said softly, cupping her head in his hand and forcing her to look up at him. He wiped away the tears that were forming in her eyes, and gently claimed her lips with his own once again.
"It doesn't matter now," he said softly as he broke away. "There were so many times before now when I wanted to come find you, but I guess the timing just wasn't right. Any earlier I might have been too afraid of cooties to come anywhere near you, or our reunion wouldn't have been nearly as dramatic."
"What does that have to do with anything?" she laughed, her happiness evident in her eyes even as the stray tear tried to escape.
"Misty has a theory," he replied, holding her a little tighter, "that people should only get to fall in love under unusual circumstances, and anything ordinary is doomed to failure."
"Does that mean you love me?" she asked shyly, tilting her head at him in the most wonderfully endearing way.
"I thought you of all people would know that by now," he teased slightly as his fingers ran lovingly through her jade hair, brushing against the side of her face. The slightest touch from him sent tingles of pleasure through her body and she could think of no place she would rather be.
"Oh," she said blushing, recalling how much restraint it had taken her not to read his mind all this time.
He chuckled at her embarrassment before she silenced him with a kiss. He didn't think he would ever get tired of kissing her as she kissed him deeper and more passionately, standing on her tippy toes to deepen the kiss. Her arms snaked their way around his neck, and his were tightly weaved around her; one arm around and her waist, and the other running lightly through her hair.
She smiled as she broke the kiss, nestling her head under his chin once again. "Love you," she said quietly as she closed her eyes and listened to the steady beating of his heart.
"Love you too."
~ THE END ~
Now here's just a little something that didn't make the final cut, but I think I'll share because . . . well nothing that I could describe here in an eloquent way.
Misty: "So is she, like the love of your life or something?"
Brock: "Just because a person that has a very close friend of the opposite sex does not mean that they're in love with them."
Misty: "Evading the question much? Five years of friendship and you can't tell me that you didn't 'like her' like her."
Brock: "How about I ask you the same question when you and Ash have been friends for five years?" (Brock looked pleased when the smug look fell of Misty's face) "Maybe more like five weeks in your case."
I very much had to resist the urge to put in more pokeshipping moments, but I decided that this was about Brock and Sabrina, not Ash and Misty so I would just have to keep them to myself. Obviously I didn't resist entirely, as there is a good amount of hints in there.
Anyway, please review and tell me what you think of it. I suspect I took a few too many liberties – for starters I had to name a few parents (BellaDonna is meant to be Erika's mum). And please let me know if you know of any other Brock and Sabrina fics as I'm gonna make a C2 for them– I have so far found four that meet my somewhat stringent criteria, and that includes this one and More Than You Think You Are.