Delia gasped as she walked into the clearing in the forest she was traveling through. Dozens of dead Pokémon lay sprawled around the smashed grass. She heard whimpers and watched one Pokémon spot her and stumble painfully toward the trees. She wanted to capture it, but her honor wouldn't let her. It was not right, to capture this obviously-traumatized Pokémon.
She heard a groan and a whimper coming from a Charizard. She frowned, and then her black eyes widened. The Charizard's wing was moving, as if something was pushing at it weakly.
Delia rushed over and gently pulled back the heavy wing. Her breath caught in her throat at what she uncovered.
Locked in a secure embrace by the Charizard's arms, was a small boy. He looked about four or five years old. He was naked save for a ratty, singed blanket wrapped around him, had a gash on his right shoulder and a burn on his left forearm. He was covered in dirt and soot, and his eyes were wild. She met the brown orbs, and her heart melted as she saw how terrified and angry he was.
"Hello?" she asked softly, reaching for him. He drew back, frightened, and made a growling noise, before whimpering out, "Char-char, charizard."
Her eyes widened. "Can you speak?" she asked, pulling her hand back.
"Char!" he wailed, tears running down his cheeks as he hugged one of the orange arms encircling him to his chest.
He seemed to realize that the Charizard wouldn't answer, and his tears flowed heavier as he cried out, "Pidgey? War-wortortle! Bee?" His voice broke, and he curled in on himself.
Delia was amazed. Did he only speak in Pokémon? And how did he learn? Gently, she unwrapped the Charizard's arms away from him, heart clenching painfully as he flinched away. Finally, she had him free, and she scooped him up into her arms. He fought her for a moment, and then wrapped his arms around her neck, sobbing wildly.
"You're okay. Shh. I've got you. You're okay." She murmured to him.
Delia was shocked when he repeated after her. "Ok, o-okay." She hugged him tighter, and then saw a man lying on the ground near the dead Charizard. He was obviously dead, charred beyond recognition, but he had a paper in his hand of the child in her arms, the face circled.
She realized that these Pokémon had been attacked by people. No wonder he was so scared! But…did that mean that he was raised by these Pokémon? How was that possible?
The man had blondish hair, from the singed tuft on top of his head. The boy must had decided that she looked different, and therefore was safe, as only a child could.
She heard a twig snap and whirled around, heart racing. A male voice snapped, "Where is Sam? He was supposed to get the brat and catch up with us half-an-hour ago!"
Her eyes flitted to the dead man, and then to the black head of the child in her arms. He was trembling; he recognized the voices. He had gone silent, and she made her decision then and there.
"Shh." She whispered, soothing back his black hair.
"Okay?" he asked in a whisper.
She nodded as she began to run back the way she'd come. "Okay. It's gonna be okay. I'll look after you. I promise." She muttered.
When she stopped just outside of the town she'd left just that morning, she stopped. Pulling away from the boy slightly, she rubbed some ash off of his forehead. "You've got ash on you." She smiled at him, breathless from her run. Luckily, he was small and lightweight, so fragile she wondered if he had hollow bones like a bird. "I wonder why?"
He cocked his head to the side and stared intently at her with deep brown eyes. She was reminded of the Charizard that had been protecting him, and her smile saddened. "That's what I'm going to call you, then. Ash."
Delia remembered that he was injured, and checked them into a hotel. She pressed his face against her chest so that no one could recognize him and give them away. She locked their room door, heart-pounding, and set Ash down onto the bed. He started and poked the bed, a curious look on his face. He really looked like a normal child for a moment.
Delia pulled out a first aid kit and removed the blanket, letting it fall to the bed, then began cleaning his wounds and wrapping bandages around him. He eyed her warily, but he let her, with a few small, "Chu? O-ok?" thrown in there, as if he was reminding himself to speak in "her" language.
She finished, and handed him an unwrapped protein bar. He sniffed it, unsure, and she mimed eating at him. "Food." She told him. "Food."
"Foo." He responded, taking a bite. Eyes wide, he crammed the bar into his mouth, chewing as if his life depended on it.
She handed him a bottle of water after he swallowed. "Water." She told him. "Water."
He dripped some onto his tongue, and bolted it down in a few swallows, coughing after he was done to clear his lungs as he breathed in some in his haste.
Delia waited until he was asleep, and then video-called her mother using one that was set up in her room. She would need help.
"Delia? What's going on?" her mother demanded, sounding tired, and she realized that it was nearly midnight.
"Mom, I…I have to come back home. I'm giving up training. I need to come back home. Can I work in the restaurant?"
Her mother's gaze sharpened with concern. "What are you talking about? Being a Pokémon trainer is what you've always wanted to do. Delia, are you alright? You look…frazzled."
Delia glanced back at the bed, where black hair was sticking out from the cocoon Ash had made of the blanket. "Mom, I-I need to tell you something." Remembering the terrified sobs from the child, her resolve firmed. "Mom, I have a son. His name is Ash."
The next day, Delia paid for her room and snuck out of the hotel, Ash clutched protectively to her chest. He was watching everything over her shoulder interestedly. She'd spent the morning pointing at him and saying, "Ash," over and over until he called himself Ash. Then she pointed at herself, and said, "Mama," until he called her Mama all the time.
"Mama!" he said in surprise as a woman on a bicycle rode past. "Mama. O-okay!"
She smiled, and went to a clothes store. Hitching the blanket higher around him, she awkwardly freed one hand and grabbed a white shirt and small blue jeans. Thinking about the slight chill in the air, she grabbed a blue jacket, and, knowing that people would be looking for him, she grabbed a red and white baseball cap.
Delia hurried to the register, where she slid her trainer's card under the teller's machine. When it went through, she carried Ash to the changing rooms and dressed him in the new clothes. He squirmed and protested, but stopped when she began to point to each article of clothing, naming it, and listening to him repeat the names, correcting him until he said them right.
She slipped the hat onto his head, and left the store. Ash was babbling animatedly in what she assumed was the Pokémon language. She got a few weird looks, but mostly people smiled and chuckled when they heard his enthusiasm.
The trip to Pallet Town took a little over a week. Delia was exhausted when she knocked on her mother's door.
The door flew open, and her mother stared at her for a moment. "Come in, come in." her mother ushered her into the living room and drew the blinds. "Delia, what is going on?"
Delia set Ash down on the blue sofa. He poked the cushion, glanced up at her, and slipped to the floor, curling up on the brown rug and rubbing his cheek against the soft fibers.
"Delia? How long have you had a son?" her mother, Lauren, demanded of her only daughter.
Delia sighed, raking a hand over her face. "About two weeks? A week and a half? I'm not sure."
"You're not sure? Explain."
Delia broke and told her mother everything. Finding Ash, saving him, naming him and bringing him here. Lauren listened patiently, without comment.
"I'm giving up being a trainer. I want to raise him as my own. I need to keep him safe." Delia finished wearily.
Lauren eyed her for a moment before deciding. "I'll look after him for a while. You need to sleep and eat." Delia opened her mouth to argue. Lauren held up a hand, forestalling any protests. "You're exhausted. Let me watch him."
Delia agreed and went up to her old room with one last glance at Ash, who had stopped nuzzling the brown carpet and was staring after her, his brown eyes confused.
She pointed at Lauren. "Gran." She told him. "Stay." She'd already taught him stay.
Ash looked over at Lauren, who smiled at him. "Gren?" he repeated to her.
"Gran." Lauren corrected gently.
"Gran." He parroted.
Her smile widened. "Good." She turned her sharp gaze on Delia. "Bed. Now." Delia scurried up the stairs. Her mother always made her feel like a young girl. But Delia also knew she needed a break. Taking care of Ash and watching for threats had really taken it out of her.
She fell into bed and passed out into a dreamless sleep.
Ash watched Gran as she sat down across from him on the soft ground. "Okay?" he asked. "Gran, okay?"
She smiled, and her amber eyes were soft. "Ash. I'm okay. And you?"
He frowned. You? She pointed at him. "Ash." He responded the way Mama had taught him.
Gran made the choking sound that made her eyes crinkle up in smiles. He eyed her uncertainly. "Okay?" he asked.
She wiped her eyes. "I'm good, Ash. I'm okay."
He smiled, showing his teeth in a friendly way. "Good. Okay."
She stood, and he followed her into a sun-coloured room. She handed him a hard thing with a sandwich on it with her wrinkled paw. She made sounds he didn't know yet, and nodded to him. He tried to bite into the thing. It hurt his teeth. It was some kind of smooth rock. She took it from him and handed him only the sandwich. He bit into that. It was good. It tasted like nuts and berries mashed up together.
"Sandwich!" he exclaimed, mouth full. She choked again, her eyes crinkling up again.