I do not own pokemon, if i did, there would be ALOT of different changes to the generations.
I am not firmilar with the later generations of pokemon, only the first 3. However after reading from different story here, i have a basic idea. I always like the idea of Ash leaving and then coming back stronger but there are too many "he comes back and wins a tournament and become the best trainer ever" well this is the same idea but instead of a tournament, its a twist. Anyways enjoy.
Kneeling there in the snowy summit of Mt. Silver he caressed the wooden cross under his toughed fingers. The blizzard pelted him with unforgiving cold. The cloudy sky was heavy under it dull grey and the winds swept across in a northern gust. He had been 4 years without proper human contact. It only seemed fitting that the young man felt awkward in this situation which required human emotion, something he had long forgotten, sealed away due to their constancy to hinder his abilities. The young man had only been here little under 20 minutes, coming to pray at the grave of a best friend lost in battle, a sacrifice that was not his to make. They say that the greatest way of expressing love for someone is to take a bullet and give up your life for them, well this friend truly had. It had been torture to pry his small yellow body from the wreckage of the site, holding a body once filled with love and warmth, now cold and lifeless. It was 4 years since the loss of this greatest companion had forced him into exile in which his soul had departed to the after life with him.
The cloak he was wearing, originally black now covered in a pillow of white snow, was held with his red, frozen right hand, tightened. Standing up he looked around, deep hazel eyes wandering. As if searching for a meaning to why this had happened, what he'd done to deserve such a cruel twist of fate. His left hand felt its way to a small poke-ball hanging around his neck, whenever he felt lonely, cold, or uneasy he would finger the red and white ball, a small reminder he had a guardian. A pokemon that swore to protect him at all costs since that day.
Feeling that he had spent long enough paying his respects Red placed his hand into his pocket and pulled out a poke-ball, releasing an orange lizard in a blinding bright light, its flame on the strong tail brunt powerfully in the windy snow. He nodded to him, sending a message that he was ready, the lizard felt the stench of sorrow and bowed its head slightly, paying its own respects. The man climbed atop of the lizard's back and the two took off into the wind, becoming invisible in a matter of seconds with only the orange glow of the flame on the pokemon's tail as a beacon of light through a blanket of death.
"So this is the home of Ash Ketchum, the Lost Hero of Pallet" His voice cracked into amusement. "It's time" He ran a hand through his slick greased hair; cold unforgiving blue eyes stared directly towards the red door. His shoes echoed off the cement path, green, short grass on either side with patches of wild yellow flowers growing. Before knocking he tightened his tie and straightened out his jacket. Lifting his fist, he knocked gently on the door. He took his surroundings; the clear day enabled him to fully enjoy the heat of the sunshine. It took roughly 15 seconds that felt more like 15 minutes before the door opened revealing a elderly woman.
"Delia Ketchum?" He questioned, his husky voice layered with a smooth tone, like that of a well versed business man.
She looked at him with strange green eyes; he looked like a door to door salesman, the suit, shiny shoes, neatly combed back hair. His rat like eyes bore into her, giving Delia the shivers "Yes" She answered in a sweet motherly tone, her voice soft. She opened the door fully and stood in a plain yellow dress showing off curves, she had a petite hourglass figure. The cloth hugged her body. The man found himself aroused. His eyebrow slightly rose. "And who might you be?" Swiftly the man pulled a cloth out from his pocket and pulled her into his arms, pressing the damp cloth into her face, the woman attempted to scream but nothing came out. She quickly fainted and before she knew it darkness invaded her mind and sight.
With a wicked smile he put the cloth back in his pocket, "Shhhhh" He whispered, "It's going to be ok, my dear" Picking her up bridal style he brought her out the gate and placed Delia into the back of his rusty red car. Sitting into the driver's seat he looked into the rear-view mirror, without looking away he took a small phone and pressed its key pad. Placing it to his ear, he waited for a response. "Hello? Yes I have her. Get them over in five minutes" And with a evil smirk and glare the man spoke once more before hanging up "Burn it to the ground, we want him to come out and play"