Over ten thousand words. Buckle up, my dear readers, I hope this ridiculously long road trip is worth the ride!
If one had asked Ash Ketchum at that very moment where he was, where he was born, how old he was, and a few other basic questions, Ash would have been sure he'd been born with amnesia. He couldn't remember a single thing, and he wasn't quite sure if he even had a past to speak of. He thought it might help if he could remember his name, and he knew he had one (everything had a name, after all) but the stupid thing escaped him. He couldn't think of it, his brain only providing him with pictures of fire and burnt up logs and ketchup.
The name would have to wait, however. What as more important was figuring out where he was, because he definitely didn't remember this place. The dirt under his feet was hard and dried and he was surrounded by clumps of dry, tall grass and sparse bushes. There was a tree in the distance, a strangely shaped tree, with a man sitting under it. He was on a blanket, drinking tea and eating food that he recognized, like onigri and hamburgers. And, as he was both a hungry and a trusting person, he wandered over and sat.
"Hello," he said brightly, helping himself to a burger.
"Hello, Ash," Brock said with a smile. "Since this is the beginning, you thought Africa would be a nice choice, thanks to the Out of Africa Theory. The beginning of humanity, that certain sense that you belong, happens to everyone. It's a gorgeous continent. You normally wouldn't know this, but you fell asleep watching a documentary. Well, to be fair, you fell asleep watching a TV battle and it rolled into the documentary."
Ash looked up from his meal, swallowing a bite. "Fell asleep? So that means-"
He nodded shortly and spoke quickly: "You're dreaming. Might as well let you know now rather than you wandering around for hours insisting that you must be dreaming. You are, Ash, no need to tell us. We're part of the dream, so we're all well aware of it. And there will be an us, in a moment. You have to be patient about it, and I apologize. I know how you hate being patient and hate being left in the dark."
"But why…why am I dreaming this?"
"Because you're a liar, Ash. You lie constantly, you subconscious is rather annoyed by the blatant hints it continues to drop being ignored or misinterpreted. Mostly ignored. If nothing else, you are very good at denial. Can't deny the truth here, Ash. This is a no lying zone. You can go ahead and try if you like, but I can assure you it's not going to get any better. Your throat will close up. You'll be stuck here until you figure it out, and if someone wakes you up you'll just have this dream again and again and again until you're so sick of it you'll just jump straight to the end."
"Can't I just do that now?"
"No!" Brock laughed. "There's tests for you to take, tests from your friends. You pass the test, you can move forward. If you fail the test, you must take it again and again and again until you pass. These aren't book questions, they're life questions. If you don't figure them out, there's no way you'll be able to survive. You'll have a mental break down before you reach your twenties. How can you be a pokémon master if you have a mental breakdown?"
"Am I smart?" Ash asked hopefully.
"Not really, no. Not in the usual sense." Here, Brock stopped to sip a cup of tea. "You're generally quite dumb, in the modern definition, but you're by no means stupid. You can learn, and you are here to learn, so you should be set."
"Do you have a test for me?"
"You don't really have a choice in passing mine. I'm truth. You always come to me for advice and help, only makes sense that I would be the one to explain things to you and you wouldn't think to ask if the no-lying rule applies to me. You knew I'd be truthful, just like you matched up brains and anger and observation and fear and love with all of their appropriate partners. Their tests will require effort."
"But why?" he asked, frowning. "Yours doesn't. Can't you just tell me everything?"
"Because the others are lessons. You can't have those forced on you. You have to accept the lessons you're given. You don't need to learn to always tell the truth, Ash. Lying is important to society. Without the occasional lie, people would just swarm all over one another, causing riots and fire to break out all over. Society would collapse under its own weight, and then all we'd have to fall back on is the denial of it ever doing so, and continuing to live on like nothing's changed."
"That's not much like you, Brock."
"No." He smiled. "It's you."
And the next moment, he was sitting at a desk. He didn't been in one of these for a while, not since he was nine, almost ten years old. In fact, it distinctly reminded him of that classroom, however faint the returning memory was, five columns by four rows of desks surrounded by yellow walls. There was a green chalkboard at the end, a large teacher's desk, and a small boy sitting behind it with a rather threatening ruler.
"Max!" Ash cried, standing up. "Are you-?"
"Sit down, Mr. Ketchum," Max scolded.
Ash hesitated. "Am…am I Mr. Ketchum?"
"Is there anyone else here, Mr. Ketchum?" Max prodded, sounding bored. "Sit down, please. We have a lot to do today and I can't do it all with my class being rowdy."
"You're a teacher? You can't be! You're younger than me!" Ash said, still refusing to sit in his seat. If not for the ruler he well remembered as a disciplinary device, he would have run up to the desk and shoved his face into Max's, as if that would help the message get through.
"And how old are you, Mr. Ketchum?" Max challenged, and when he couldn't answer the young boy said in that bored tone again, "Sit down, Mr. Ketchum."
He sat, eye still on the ruler while he joked, "So what's my test? Multiple choice, I hope?"
"If you pass the first round, you get to keep your pikachu with you. You remember it, don't you? That little yellow mouse that follows you everywhere? That's right, pass it, and you get your little buddy back. It's only ten questions, seven right to pass. Sit up straight, Mr. Ketchum, open your desk, get out some paper, and get ready to write. It shouldn't be hard."
He did, opening it fast at the thought of Pikachu, whom he definitely remembered, and yanking out all the items he would need to take the test. He noticed that he was holding his favorite mechanical pencil, a blue one with a picture of his little buddy on it. He stared at it for a moment, then shook his head as Max began the test, pushing away any bitter thoughts of how he wouldn't be able to answer the questions if he couldn't remember a thing.
"Where did you first meet Pikachu?" Max asked, and that was so easy Ash could practically feel his head swelling with pride.
The next questions were harder, more detailed, involving dates and statistics and battles, but they came to Ash in a flash. He felt prepared for this, as if he had been studying hard and cramming for the past few weeks. It was weird though, because even with all his usual studying and cramming, it took a lot more than that to memorize things. He distinctly remembered having to lock himself up in closets when he was younger, putting on big headphones to keep him as focused as he could ever hope to be.
When he was finished, Ash took the paper and read the answers. Then, he nodded and said, "Alright, Ash. Now let's try to get you into the next room. These are harder for you, so you only have to get three out of the ten right."
These questions were certainly harder for him. They were questions about his friends, close friends, not just ones he had met once or twice. He was drilled about Brock and Misty and Gary and May and Tracey and even Max, though he felt especially nervous and guilty when those brown eyes glared at him because he hadn't the slightest idea what Max liked and didn't like or what he was good at. He was disappointed that he didn't get a single one right and nervous that he wouldn't get to go to the next room.
"Misty's favorite color was yellow. May's favorite food was macaroni and cheese. My favorite pokémon was-"
"Was," Ash accused suddenly, his voice shaking with guilt and rage as he got to his feet once more. "Was. This is all stuff that happened in the past! I can't even remember my name! How am I supposed to remember all this stuff if I can't remember anything?"
"You managed to remember those pokémon facts just fine. Puts in perspective, doesn't it? Caring for pokémon so much more than you care about your human friends."
"Well, am I just supposed to hate pokémon?" he fumed, stomping his foot. "Smack them around? That's not who I am! I can't love people more! I love them both the same!"
"Do you, Ash? None against ten? That doesn't sound equal to me. Sounds like you love pokémon more and that's not right. Haven't your human friends stood by you too? Do you even have the common courtesy to know their favorite color or food?"
Ash's mouth opened and closed like a magikarp in a still pool until he struggled out the words: "I'm…I'm just not very good at remembering."
Max jabbed his in the chest, though he had to reach up to do it. "Then why could you remember your pokémon? Every question, Ash Ketchum! Every one! And those questions were much tougher than any of the ones I asked you about your human friends!"
He took a deep breath, staring down at his paper, blank as it was when he got it out. He didn't have much to say to that, so he decided to counter it with an abrupt topic change, as all brilliant minds do when confronted with an argument they don't know how to win. "I…I thought you said if I passed you would give me Pikachu back. I don't have Pikachu back yet, which means you lied to me. I thought no one could lie here."
"It wasn't a lie so much as a slight omission of truth. You get Pikachu back in the next room." He grinned as Ash sunk to his seat and slammed his head against the desk. "But I can give you a bonus, and, if you get it right, you can go to the next room, to Pikachu and another test done. What do you say?"
"Bring it," Ash insisted, bracing himself like he was about to start a battle.
And he certainly needed to brace himself. Looking as if giving this bonus question filled him with more glee than a hundred cute pokémon using a charm attack, Max gave a nearly impossible task to the great Ash Ketchum: "For a passing grade, admit that you, As Ketchum, are a horrible, ungrateful friend."
"What?" Ash screamed, jumping to his feet once more, and getting a bit lightheaded from all the sudden movements. "I'm no…I'm no…" But his throat closed and twisted against him. He couldn't say it. It was a lie, he thought, and he knew it was. What kind of friend couldn't even know favorite colors or foods? He finally hung his head with eyes shut twice, gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, and whispered, "I'm the worst friend on the entire planet."
"Yeah," came the lighthearted voice. "That might be something you want to fix. I haven't gotten a call from you in ages."
Ash opened his eyes, and found the scene had changed again. It was a meadow, pretty grass growing, wind blowing. There were wild flowers all around him, trees with their heavy branches waving in the air, lush and green and everything smelling like summer time. The ocean was just in the distance, waves crashing on the shore. It was Pallet Town, he was sure of it. One of his old hang out spots. His secret hideout. His den. Though he couldn't imagine why he would be here. What was he supposed to learn? And where was Tracey?
"You can't see me. There's a meaning behind that. You're smart enough, Ash, give it a try! Tell me, where do you think I'm at that you can't see me? Why can't you see me? Take a guess while I finish up this sketch. It shouldn't take too long. You know how fast I am when it comes to sketching."
"I'm in a coma and coma dreams don't make sense," Ash deducted.
Tracey laughed, and Ash, now listening closely, could hear the barely audible sound of his pencil scratching across the page he sketched. "Funny. Man, Ash, you're so funny. At least, you used to be. Are you still funny now? I wonder. I haven't talk to you in ages."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm a terrible friend!" he snapped, putting his hands in his pockets and kicking at the even grass. No clumps, no lumps, perfect ground. He hated that more than anything else at the moment, somehow – that the grass was so perfect and he was so…so not. "That all happened in the last test! I admitted it so you don't have to make me feel worse about it than I already do. I know I suck. I'll try to be better about it."
"You feel bad about it?" Tracey asked, and there was an almost happy lilt in his voice and the pencil scratching picked up. He must have been coloring in a shadow, or some darker shade on a pokémon's pelt. "That's good. If nothing else, maybe I'll get a call from you when you wake up. I haven't gotten a call from you in such a long time. Are you even sure of where to call me? I bet you don't know. That's sad. You really are a terrible friend. If there's some version of hell, I'm sure you'll go to it, where phones ring all the time but nobody ever picks them up and it drives you crazy. Call me."
"I will, I will," Ash mumbled, waving his hand.
"Good. I'll hold you to it, Ash. I bet you're probably wondering what your next test is going to be, but I don't think I can tell you until you find me. Or was it the other way around? I can't remember. I'm way too into sketching little Pikachu here. You love your little buddy, don't you? Maybe you should try and search for him. You'll probably have better luck finding him, pokefreak."
"Pikachu!" Ash cried with a grin, the pokefreak insult hardly a blip on his radar. "Oh, wow, Pikachu! You've got him! Max said I could have him back since I've got all this stupid test stuff done! Is Pikachu hiding too?"
He didn't get an answer, or, if he did, he was too busy spinning around, looking for a little flash of yellow to hear it. He scanned the clearing and saw the mouse, barely visible in the tall grass, and ambushed it, tackling and rolling for a moment, sure to keep it safely tucked to his chest. Tracey's voice came again, nearer this time. "Hey! You ruined my sketch!" He laughed. "I can't blame you. If I had been separated from all of my pokémon and had a weird coma dream. I probably would have done the same thing."
"Man oh man, Tracey. I'm sorry! I didn't even think." He stopped, his eyes rolling up. There he was. Tracey Sketchit. In the mind of Ash Ketchum. Stuck at the age Ash left him. "Tracey! Tracey, I found you! That means I can start the next test!"
The older boy laughed, shaking his head and turning back to his page, finishing the sketch the best he could from memory. "You want your next test, do you? It seems like you wouldn't be too eager, after everything that went on with Max and Brock. Most people would be begging to go home by now, hating themselves. You'd seem the type to sulk a bit, definitely complain by now. Did seeing Pikachu really pick your spirits up that quickly, or have you just gotten a little more mature as the years passed? I think it's the first one. You have a serious relationship with Pikachu. I don't think ever your mother could beat her out."
"Well, I wouldn't say that. She's my mom, after all. She gave birth to me and all that stuff. I think she beats out Pikachu." Ash shook his head, turning to Pikachu and petting the affectionate mouse. "Pikachu and I have something special. I'm happy for it. I still want to get out of here, and I'd be happy to complain if it would. Brock said I need to pass all the tests, though, so if you could give me the test…?"
"You know what most pokémon's eggs look like?" Tracey asked. Ash nodded. "Right, well, each of your friends has a sort of signature pokémon. Something that resembles their training, likes, something they're close to. Yours would be Pikachu, since Pikachu's obviously your favorite. You two are like salt and pepper, right? Right. Well. There's one for Brock, May, Max, Misty and Gary. They're all right around here; your challenge is to find them."
"So…so you're teaching me how to look?" Ash deduced.
"To observe, that's right."
Then Ash gulped, because hundreds of eggs began popping up left and right. It wasn't a treasure hunt, he had to choose. So he didn't even have a good chance at guessing. First, he had to figure out whatever the "signature pokémon" was, then he had to go and find the egg, if he even knew what the egg looked like. Well, that was a problem. He didn't know every egg of Kanto, Sinnoh, Hoenn, Johto, or wherever else the egg may have come from.
He looked around him, shifting his weight from his heels to his toes and back again, before cautiously asking: "Okay, so, there's five eggs I'm going to find. And I have to figure out what they are. I mean, I have to figure out who they belong, no! I mean, who they symbolize. It's their signature pokémon. Right. So, uh, if I don't know what an egg looks like, can I ask you to draw it for me if I give you the pokémon?"
"Mmm-hmm," Tracey hummed, holding up his pad. "What do you think this is for?"
"Great." Ash laughed, swallowing nervously as his brain began to work. "I don't know what a slakoth egg looks like."
He was proud of the speed he managed to find the eggs, but prouder still that comparing his friends to pokémon seemed to come so quickly. He knew that Max loved normal type pokémon, and that slakoth was one of his dad's (or at least the evolved form of it). Ash was pretty sure that Max really loved his dad and really wanted to take over the gym, so that was logical. He found that egg in the shade under a tree, and when he touched it the egg glowed bright white and vanished, confetti filling its place as it fell to the ground.
May's was surprisingly easy for him, a torchic, since it was her first. He thought it was an awful lot how she started pretty weak, but made the choice to leave him so she could grow in the end. She was probably stronger still. A blaziken. He found that egg out in the sun, bright light pounding down on the fire type. It pulled the same vanishing act Max's did. Speaking of vanishing, Gary's was impossible to find. He was an umbreon, a pokémon that sprang to mind as quickly as he thought the name. He finally found the dark type in a cave.
Brock was difficult for him, and he had to really sit down and think about it. He knew it had to be a rock type, it had to, but he was torn for the longest time between onix and bonsly. It came down to whether he wanted to choose the soft, nurturing side or the strong, bold side. In the end, he decided on bonsly, because he did like that side to Brock better. He liked the Brock he could talk to, who cooked and took care of him and everyone around him. And, when he touched that egg, it vanished like all the others.
"I found 'em," Ash said proudly after Brock's egg has disappeared. He ran back to the sketcher with a huge smile on his face, positively bouncing with Pikachu dancing around his feet. "I found every last one! I can't show you, because they all turned into confetti. I just really hope this isn't a coma dream and that's not another sign of my brain cells dying. Ah, well, there's only four of them. How badly can losing four brain cells effect me?"
"Have you really found them all?" Tracey asked, looking up from his notebook in surprised.
"Yeah. Pretty fast, huh?" he bragged, standing a little straighter.
"You…you're sure you found every one? You don't need to hide it if you couldn't. If you couldn't find one, you don't have to be embarrassed. You can just tell me. Maybe it was hard for you, I had the hardest tone with May's egg, but then again, I'm just a symbol from your subconscious." He laughed awkwardly, but cut off to stare at Ash with a bit of awe. He was very disappointed that it wasn't because of his incredible speed or intelligence, but his apparent immense stupidity.
"Who am I missing?" he asked, deflated.
Tracey laughed. "I've never seen someone in more denial! Who's egg? You're so desperate to avoid her you can't even think of her name! Now I've seen everything. Worse case of denial I've ever seen! I know love makes people blind and stupid but this is ridiculous!"
"What am I denying?"
Tracey grinned and stretched out on the grass, soothing his laughter with the warm sun. "You're denying love. That's Misty's test."
He tripped over himself, landing face first in the springy grass as only an anime character could. "Misty! Gah, I'm so stupid! I can't believe I…dammit! Well, she can't be too hard. I mean, she always carried around Togepi, right? When you think of Misty, you think of Togepi! That's got to be her! I mean, it's either that or azurill! Maybe azurill more, 'cuz it's a water type…still, I know what it is, isn't that enough?"
Tracey simply raised an eyebrow, a good way of telling him it obviously wasn't, and he charged off to search the grass. It took a lot longer than he would have wanted it too, because Togepi was nowhere to be found, trademark an egg as it was. He had spent enough time with it that he could have sketched it perfectly. After circling the clearing three times, he decided that it simply wasn't there. The next time he went around it was a dedicated search for an azurill egg (that he asked Tracey to draw for him) and that was nowhere to be found either.
Deciding that he would try a different approach, he marched back to Tracey and cockily went on his rant: "Tracey, Misty's signature pokémon, Togepi, isn't here. This is because Togepi represents Misty in every way. I left Misty behind, so the egg isn't here. I thought it may have been azurill, but azurill is a normal type so it doesn't even represent water. It has to be Togepi, and Togepi is gone. It was a good trick Tracey, but I outsmarted you."
"Nice try, but no. I'm not supposed to give you any hints, Ash, but for an answer like that I think you deserve one!" He laughed, shaking his head, then continued in a voice that was hardly anymore serious: "What does Misty love?"
"Desserts?"
"Water, Ash. The hint is water."
He nodded, one short, brief bend of his neck, then set off. He wasn't quite sure where to go, as he had already checked by the puddle and the only water was the ocean, and there couldn't possibly be eggs in the ocean…right? He gave a sigh, betting that he had to get wet because the nurses were giving him a sponge bath while he vegetated in the coma he was sure he had fallen into, and dove into the ocean. And that's all it took, apparently, because there was only one egg right in front of him. A Psyduck egg. He would have slammed his head into the nearest desk or wall had there been one nearby. He reached out, scooped up the egg, and swam to the surface…
Only he didn't break at the surface. The boy took a big gulp of air, but it wasn't the fresh summer time he was expecting. It was the warm smell of Oak's lab, books and technology. The sound wasn't the fresh ocean breeze, it was the soft sound of the heater, and he found himself a five year old, sitting naked on a towel with an equally naked Gary Oak, who was frowning like someone had just told him he would one day lose a big match to Ash, and then backed it up with proof.
"You know, Ash, I can't believe you talked me into swimming. Now we're on a stupid towel and we're all naked and your mom took pictures and if you tell anyone at school I'll kill you," the little Gary informed him, lips set in a pout and arms crossed high up on his chest.
"I don't wanna be naked with you either!" Ash shouted. For a moment, he forgot it was all a dream and found himself consumed in the moment, the memory that was still this clean and crisp in his mind. "I hate you! It was your stupid idea that we go in the water, not mine! I never have bad ideas like that! It's always you! You stupid Gary Oak! I hate you! And you better not tell any of the kids in school either, because I'll be really embarrassed and it'll only embarrass both of us and I hate you!"
Then, suddenly, the brown haired boy scooped up the black haired one up in his body, skinny arms and held him close. Ash wasn't quite sure what Gary was doing, so he twisted and grunted and did his best to punch the other boy. The attempts failed miserably, as Gary was the stronger of the two and had easily pinned his arms in the hug. So, instead, he grit his teeth and tried to fuel his anger by hating the fact that Gary's skin was so cold.
"One day, Gramps, can you adopt Ash?" he asked sweetly, and Ash could imagine the fake smile he was wearing. "I'd give anything to be his big brother."
"That's awfully kind of you, Gary," he chuckled. "But Ash has parents."
"Parent," Ash muttered bitterly. "A mom, and she's better than your parents, Gary."
"Nonsense, Ash. Your dad's only gone for-" Oak cut himself off at the glare the five year old was giving him, having just twisted enough to meet him eye to eyes.
They held the glance for a moment, until Oak finally sighed and walked away. Gary reacted immediately, shoving Ash away from him so hard he almost slammed into the ever buzzing heater. As retorted by scampering back on the towel and crossing his arms defiantly. Had he remembered that this was all a dream, maybe he would have calmed down or used some grown up words to love the other boy speechless, but Ash was wrapped up in the memory and insanely mad that Gary had embarrassed him.
"You get mad about everything," the other boy said. "What are you always so angry about?"
Ash could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, his stomach clenching and turning until he had to leap to his feet and stomp his foot with every sentence. "I'm so angry because you embarrassed me! I'm angry because you lie all the time! I'm angry that I'm cold! I'm angry that I'm naked on this stupid towel with you! I'm so angry because I hate you! Because you're a jerk! Because you're mean! Because you're a butt face! Because you're-"
"Better?" He chuckled, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. "Ash, let's face it, there's a reason you're always the uke whenever you're talked about in a sexual way. There's a reason why I almost always win when we battle. There's a reason why I find it so easy to pin you when we fight. We both know I'm better, but it can't be just jealousy, can it? You have to be angry about something else. I actually think it might be. Of course, it'd be easier to say it all comes from pride because everything comes from pride in the end."
"I'm angry because you've always picked on me," he muttered.
"Have I? Haven't you always mocked back?" Gary turned his nose up in the air, his brown hair flipping as he did so. "Heh, you're not very good at mocking back, but it's the thought that counts. That would make you just as bad as me. So, do you hate yourself? Huh. That's an interesting development. Have you thought about punching a pillow instead of taking it out on little ol me? Seeing a better, handsomer version of yourself must be painful but-"
"I love myself," Ash snapped. "You're the only one here I hate."
"What is it about me you hate? My great looks? My hot body? I would guess my hot body." Gary looked down at himself in a very cocky way, though his five year old lean, scrawny form was nothing to be proud about. "I'm pretty jealous so me, so I can't imagine how you couldn't be."
"Easily. You're not that hot, and even if you were no one I'd want to hang out with cares that much about looks anyway. You just a real jerk, Gary. You always have been, when we're five or ten or fifteen, you've always been a jerk, and you'll keep being a jerk until we're seventy five or until we're twoo hundred years old and dead and gone and you'll still be bugging me, no matter what happens after we die. I hope it's reincarnation, because I'll go to nirvana and you'll be a stupid little weedle!"
Gary sniggered, "Oh, good insults, uke."
"I'm a seme!"
"Come on, Ashy-boy."
"Don't call me that." Another stomp of his little foot, and his fists clenched so tight he wondered if his hands were bleeding.
"Tell me what's so bad about me, then. If I'm really the worst guy you've ever met, you have to have something more than just insults, right? There's got to be something you specifically hate. My hair? My eyes? Am I too awesome for you to handle? Give me in a feature, a trait, anything. I'd go with personality, because that's the only way you might have a case. We both know there's nothing you could find bad about me when it comes to looks."
"You're a cocky, self absorbed smart ass trainer who lives in his own little world! All you ever think about is winning! You don't even have any real friends! As far as anyone else can see they're only cheerleaders, standing on the sidelines and giving you advice!"
"So you hate my tanned skin and rich black hair?" He giggled.
"You don't have-Oh." Ash gulped. "Well, I don't think…I'm not really…I'm…"
"Your worst traits at your worst moments coming back to haunt you, huh?" Gary brought his chin back to his knees. "I can only imagine how much that would suck. Thankfully, I'm only a figment of your imagination, and therefore can't really imagine anything. You have a really freaking weird head, Ketchum, you know that? It's weird as hell. Though I think my portion of the test thing is over. You figured out you're really only mad at yourself, right? You kind of hate yourself, don'tchya? It's a little sad. And you subconscious keeps trying to tell you you're an uke."
The low growl turned into a shriek, and he sprang at that milk chocolate hair, lips locked in a snarl as he shouted, "I'm a seme!"
He connected, he was sure he did, but it didn't feel right. There were clothes now, and Gary didn't feel so scrawny. He was much softer, much curvier. In fact, Gary felt an awful lot like a girl. Opening his eyes confirmed his suspicions. There was definitely a girl under him. And, as best as he could tell from the poor lighting conditions, it was May. Yes, the other brunette he knew was in a very strange place for her, a dark room with only a few black wax candles, as if she were about to perform some pagan ritual.
She squirmed under him, getting a hand free so she could give Ash a good shove off of her, causing him to land very close to one of the candles, but not on it. "Glad to hear it! I guess the meeting with Gary went as well as we thought it would?" She pause and cocked her head at him. "Though I don't think I want to know how you two ended up talking about palletshipping."
"He just…he gets me so angry all the time!" Ash snarled, sitting up and weaving his fingers into the thick, black carpet. "I can't help it! I mean, what else am I supposed to do? I can't ever beat him and I've only won once and it's so annoying and-"
"Ash," May whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The anger's over now. If this was the real world, I'd love to talk about it but…it's not a good time and it's only a dream. You might wake up soon, Pikachu left the room and people have started walking in and out. I need you to skip all the drama, to be honest with me so you can move onto the final test as quick as you can. Ash, you need to tell me what you're afraid of if you want to get out of here.
"Afraid?" he asked slowly. "Well, the usual things. I'm scared of losing a family member or a friend, a little scared of dying. I don't like the dark a lot, I mean, I'm okay with it, but I get a little scared because you can't see anything."
"Mmm-hmm, and everyone has a fear of heights and everyone is afraid when someone points a gun at them and everyone has a slight fear of fear and you're being really generic. You know that I'm scared of pokémon thanks to a very embarrassing incident I cannot disclose due to my own personal problems and the fact that I'm not the real May. Come on, Ash, you can tell me what you're afraid of! I'm your subconscious so I already know anyway! Just tell me, won't tell a soul."
"I'm scared I'm in a coma," he muttered.
May giggled and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "There! That's a good one! Keep thinking! What else are you scared of?"
"I'm scared of my mom dying, 'cuz she's all I have left," Ash said, his voice quick now. He wondered if it was a bit like a bandage, ripping it off quick so the pain would only last a second."And…and I'm even more scared that Pikachu will go because she's the best friend I've ever had, human or pokémon."
"Want me to tell you that the odds are neither of them will go before you do, with the stunts you pull? Or do you know that and you're still scared anyway? One of those irrational fears?"
"It's irrational. I'd tell you I'm scared of dying, like, really scared, but I'm not. I don't want to, but I don't think it's all too bad that everyone has to go. Life would get boring, if you existed here forever. What would you do for all that time? You can only catch 'em all so many times. Nah, I don't mind death, but I don't want to have a bad life because Mom or Pikachu went. I don't think I could stand that, not right now."
"That's good," May nodded, scooting closer. "What else?"
"I…" Ash began, then pushed her hand off his shoulder. "Why are we sitting around, wasting time when I'm almost done? Give me the real test so I can ace it and leave my stupid coma dream. I told you the stuff I'm afraid of so just let me out of here!"
"You really are in denial," she murmured. "I don't believe that…how many times have you done it avoiding her name like you do? You avoid her at any cost, and then when you're confronted with it you go as emotionless as you can, or you just rage about it. That's probably…well, I can't say it. You have to. Come one, Ash! Since you're one of those people who aren't scared of death, what's the deep, dark fear you have? What won't you admit and, more importantly, why are you so afraid?"
"I don't-"
"You can't lie here, Ash, remember?" May said eagerly, closing in for the kill. "Come on, Ash! Can't you just say it? We all know it! Whether she's angry of nice, you're terrified of her! Why Ash? Tell me who it is! Who have you been avoiding with all your worth because she's the scariest thing you've ever encountered? Why is she scarier than death or losing your mom or Pikachu or the dark or whatever other fears you have? Why is she your worst?"
"Who do you think?" he shouted. "Who else? Her. I can't help that I'm afraid! She just makes me think I'm going to turn into…into…"
"I need the why, Ash. You want to go home and see your mom, see the real Pikachu and avoid the real her? Tell me the why. Ask me to comfort you in the real world when you get there, you know I won't ask you to tell me what it is, I'll just make sure you'll be okay, but you have to get out of here first. Why are you so scared? What does she do that scares you?"
"She likes me and that's what's so scary. I'm normally stupid but I've read her diary, I've heard the conversations and noticed a couple of slips. She likes me and I'm scared that…"
"What?" she encouraged. "What's the root of it all?"
He closed his eyes tight, his whole body starting to shake. "I let her leave. My dad let my mom leave. She said if he hadn't put his career first, if he had tried to stop her, she would have stayed. I'd have a dad right now. She makes me think that I'm going to turn out like my father, and I'm going to end up making another kid with as bad of a life as I had."
"What, and you want to father a baby of mine? I never said anything about babies. Marriage, maybe, but babies? Gees, Ash, I'm just a shy little girl. I can't go around having babies! I don't know nothin' about raisin'…well, you know the rest. Don't want to get sued for copyright, not that it's possible, since this is only a dream. That was crazy of me to say, crazier for you to think. You were the one to think it, since this is only a dream. Huh. You're a bit crazy, aren't you?"
He opened his eyes, and couldn't have found himself in a worse place, not if he had correctly identified the voice as Misty's. He had always been the slightest bit scared of anything involving the opposite sex, unless the opposite sex had the common courtesy to act like a boy or be his mother. He wasn't sure how old he was, but he was quite sure he had never had a sex dream, and if this was all his subconscious's elaborate plan to finally get him to sleep with a girl he would be majorly disappointed in himself.
But what else could it be, when he was in something reminiscent of a honeymoon suite? Everything was shades of red, mostly deep reds, with a fireplace going in the corner. The bed was a canopy, yet another heart shape with covers a guy could drown in, and had a girl in it that, as she often did, left him speechless. With eyes closed and red hair fanned out about her head, her lips were parted, just the slightest bit, and the rest of her hidden under the sheets, Ash could practically feel his blush exploding off the bridge of his nose and the tips of his ears.
"Misty!" he shouted, stumbling back from the bed he was much too close to. "Listen, I don't know what your test…oh, Mew, I really hope your test isn't what I think it is, but it better not be what I think it is! I'll just have the same dream every night because I'm not going to do it! Misty…you…if you're naked you better not get out from under your covers! You're not…naked, are you?"
She laughed a bit, eyes still closed, and wiggled under the covers. "No, no. I don't think I am. I don't know, you probably could make me naked if you wanted. I don't think you do though, and it wouldn't be very healthy – since you can't exactly faint in your own head, you'd probably have a meltdown. But, if you could handle it, this is a dream and I am your subconscious so I want sex as badly as you do at any given point. If at any time you feel yourself getting…ready, just go ahead and jump into bed. I'll follow."
"I thought this was love!" he demanded. "This was supposed to be where I come in and you tell me that I need to buy my mom a giant bouquet of flowers and tell all my friends how much I care about them! I'm supposed to get a hug from you and you promise me that all my friends still care about me and I care about them and I need to focus on people too, not just pokémon, because I'm a person and I need other people to be happy! I'm supposed to have some kind of love test! This. Is. Love."
"Isn't it?" she asked, opening one eye to look at him.
"Not if you're all sexed up and stuff."
She opened her eyes, both blue-green irises swallowing up her pupils thanks to the bright light. Then she flashed him her happiest smile and gave him her deepest blush and laughed her most girly giggle, with one absent minded hand coming up to push her hair out of her face. "I can't believe you're so scared that…You really think I'm sexy?"
He felt himself go scarlet, a blush matching her own, and took another step back. "I don't think that…Mist, you are sexy, sorta, but most girls are and, I mean, I'm a guy and I like girls so it would only make sense that I would think things about you. That's what guys do. And, I mean, I've never let anything get too far but…I think stuff about all the girls!"
She grinned wider and sat up quickly, too quickly. He jumped, of course, figuring he was about to see a completely naked Misty. She wasn't, but in her old traveling clothes: yellow tee, blue jeans shorts, and suspenders. She even had her old sneakers on, though it was a little weird for her to be wearing them in the bed. "But you think about me the most, right? I pop up in your head the most often, more than anyone else! And it's because I'm your favorite, right? You love me and I'm your favorite and you think I'm sexy."
"Love?" he laughed nervously, shoving his hands in his pocket. "I mean, sexy…yeah, you're a little…yeah. You're different looking, I mean, you don't have the really full lips or blonde hair or brown hair and you kinda look like a kid still so it's almost like pedophile-ish even though it isn't because you're definitely not a kid anymore because you've got…well, what you've got isn't all that much but…" He cleared his throat and clenched his fists. "Isn't my age a little too young to fall in love with someone?"
"Love has an age? I don't think so. You can love your mother, can't you? Loving someone as your significant other is just like loving them as a friend or family member, only you're also sexually attracted to them. If you're old enough to be sexually attracted there's no reason why you can't find love. Anyway, you don't know how old you are and you're doing things that are obviously not age appropriate, so you're an early bloomer anyway. Then again, is there a good time to risk life and limbs and becoming the Chosen One? I can't think of one, but I would think somewhere in your twenties would be the prime age, certainly not when you're ten."
"You can't…No! Love is something special! Love isn't…it's not just wanting to have, you know, with someone you're friends with. It's something more than that, right? It's something special! And sex is lust not…" He sighed and glared at his feet. "I'm arguing with myself. You look like Misty, but you're still me. I can't win a fight against me. So let's just stop it. Alright? You win. Now, aren't you supposed to test me?"
"Probably, but I'm sleepy." She blinked up at him, yawning once. "There's nothing on television except commercials. I hate that. You need to get some better satellite or cable or whatever kind of package you have. Ha! Package. That's funny because we're talking about sex. Speaking of sex, Ash, do you want to do something fun to wake me up? If you do it right maybe that can pass for your test and you can leave just a little bit wiser with a little bit of mental practice. If you don't do it yourself, you might become infertile and get prostate cancer and die."
"I won't." Then his expression softened and his eyes widened and he asked a nervous: "Right?"
She ignored his question with another smile. "If you don't take my test you have to dream all this again. Brock went over this. Maybe this is a coma dream and your mind's breaking down. That sucks, at least the real me's okay."
"How do you know that this isn't actually your coma dream?"
"Because it's not. It can't be my coma dream because I don't have a past. I mean, I didn't exist until you walked into this room, so it's obviously your coma dream." She looked down at herself and sighed. "I'm almost disappointed I'm not naked. I feel unattractive now. What kind of girl shows up in a boy's dream and isn't even naked? Gees, Gary got father with you than I did. This is a terrible day, and we're all so out of character. So, aren't you supposed to confess something to me?"
"You…I already…if you're my subconscious you already know!" he shouted, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest, which puffed out too defensively to counteract the blush on his cheeks.
She giggled, hugging her knees to her chest. "Do I?"
"Yes!"
"What do I know?"
"You know that…" he trailed off awkwardly, his arms falling and waving weakly at his sides. "You know!"
She got to her feet, cocking her head to the side and laughing a bit. "'I know', you say, but I think it's you that knows. There's your test, Ash. You're going to admit one of your deepest, darkest secrets. Do you like me, Ash? Really like me? It's your head, you know I can be whoever you want, Ash. It's just a dream, so no consequences. Do you want to sleep with me? With May? Be Gary's seme? You can have whatever you want and no one would ever know. Your secrets can't leave your head. You can do whatever you want."
He tried once, a tentative: "I don't…" before he boomed stronger, "I don't want to sleep with you!"
"But I'm attractive, aren't I? I'm sexy and wonderful and sweet and beautiful and all those things that girls can be." She turned to the side and struck her best sexy pose. It wasn't all too fantastic, looking like one of those child beauty queens trying much too hard to be all grown up. "Or do you think I'm hideous?"
"Of course I think you're pretty, Misty. You're a gorgeous girl, no one could deny that." He laughed lightly and rubbed the back of his neck. "You're one of the Sensational sisters, aren't you? You may not be the best, but you're still plenty hot."
"And I look good naked?" she insisted.
There was another blush, much deeper this time, and he shielded his face from her curious gaze. "Well, I…I couldn't tell you that."
"From what you imagined," she pressed again, leaning forward. "I'm pretty naked, right?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"And it wouldn't be a burden to sleep with me, would it?"
"No." He shook his head. "It wouldn't."
"So that means there's something stopping you, because you'd like to, but you don't!" She threw her arms out wide to the side, as if the problem was the thing that choked the air, thicker than smog or water, that made it so hard for him to breathe, and everyone but him could see it. "That's your issue, isn't it, Ash? You'd like to, but you never make a move, never try, never show any kind of interest in me!"
"Yeah, I…I guess I'd like to." He stopped and took a step back, as if his next sudden realization had startled him. "You're acting not…Misty-ish."
"So you want me, but you don't try? Why? Why can't you make a move? If you stopped treating your pokémon like they're all that matter and started remember that you're a person too, you still wouldn't do it!" she shouted. "You act as if you don't care! You act as if your human friends don't matter, and don't even make an effort to show that I'm a little bit special to you! It's as if I'm just another one of the one-a-day people you meet on your journey! Why Ash?"
"B-because I…you-" he stuttered.
"You're hurting me! You know I like you and you don't do anything! You don't let me down gentle, you don't take me out for a try! I can't get over you if we don't get some kind of closure on this freaking problem! I can't move on from something that hasn't finished! There hasn't been a resolution. How can I move on if I don't know if you like me? If you don't? You're like me Ash, we're two of a kind, we can't just live not knowing something."
"I know but..but we're friends Misty."
"And why can't we be friends that kiss and go on dates and actually acknowledge that we like each other instead of bottling it up," she pleaded desperately, her fists clenched so tight all the blood had left them, leaving them whiter than paper. "I'm always there, Ash. I'll always be there! You can't let it go if nothing ever gets resolved and you know it! Stop being such a coward, put on your big boy boots and stand up! Otherwise, what's stopping you?"
He gripped her shoulders tight, giving her a good shake. "It's my dad…I'm my dad. I always have been. I've been like him in every way ever since I was little. And the stories…between my mom and the people around town…I know exactly what he did to my mom, and I'll do the same to you. Th-the second I get to have you I'll f-finish and go off to do something more exciting! No…n-no love letters, no calls, no visits! You'll get a night in bed and…and th-then I'll be off to Mew knows where! You'll be stuck with some bastard child and I'll be s-saving the stupid world again."
She laughed, bending her arms to grip his wrists still planted on her shoulders and leaned forward. "You are not your father."
"I am!"
She made it through the tangle of arms and anger, cupped his cheeks and kissed him. He couldn't have asked for anything better, his dream kiss – of course it was a dream, so it had to be good, didn't it? Her lips were warm from their fight, her angry flush radiating off her face to his. She pulled him closer, bodies melting together, her curved figure feeling all too perfect pressed to his. She was soft now, despite the calluses and the muscles, she was soft in how she acted and carried herself and moved; and when she finally pulled away, it was painfully slow.
"You aren't your father. He switched pokémon like toys, didn't even keep his starter, and we both know that he never cared about Delia for any more than what her measurements were. He never knew he like you do me. We're good friends, Ash, something your dad didn't have with your mom. It may not work out, but we can try, don't you think? If anyone has the courage to take the plunge and ask out a friend, it's you Chosen One."
He shook his head. "How do you know all this? You weren't there."
"Stupid," she snorted, smacking his forehead. "It's a dream, don't you remember?"
(PAGEBREAK)
Fifteen year old Ash – two months away from turning sixteen Ash – sat up quickly, gasping with a hand over his heart. Poor little Pikachu spilled from his chest to the floor, disgruntled enough to flick her tail at him and scramble under the couch. His loud scream of: "It's not a dream!" didn't help much, only reassuring her that she had made the right decision to stay put. Ash, meanwhile, found himself breathing rather hard and looking rather stupid in front of his friend.
"Yeah, it was," Misty said – sixteen year old Misty – flipping through the channels. Despite his screams, she seemed rather relaxed and nonchalant, even going so far as to yawn as the remote slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor, settling on some old sitcom where the laugh track was faker than the acting. "Sorry if it was a really good one, but it was still just a dream. You dozed off a really long time ago, I guess, unless you're been watching psychology and nature specials for the past four of five hours. Brock said you were watching battles at two, and it's probably six thirty by now. I can't tell. I'm too lazy to go find a clock."
Her apology and laziness was lost on him, his mind pounding with only one fact. "Four hours? I couldn't have been sleeping for four hours! I mean…I had a really good dream! And I can remember it! All of it! It can't just be four hours! Whenever you can remember one of those and it feels like it's been days it turns out you only dozed off for five minutes! And…and four hours? I could have been doing something! I wasted my entire afternoon sleeping! The afternoon is the best time for doing anything!"
"Don't be so hard on yourself. If I had gone through all you did I'd be exhausted too. I probably wouldn't have woken up this morning if I was you, but you decided that you had to keep training. Training, training, training, that's all you ever do. I used to have to push you into training and now it's all you do. You wake up early for it. That's so weird. And what was it for? Not the Elite, not a high class league, not anything important. Mew prevent you from ever doing anything important well. You fought in a stupid rinky dink league with rinky dink trainers and pokémon that you could have taken out on your first day, beaten up Pikachu or not."
"Yeah," he mumbled, watching her carefully. She was wearing yellow. Was yellow still her favorite color, or did she wear it because she looked good in it? Maybe it was to balance her out, because yellow was all cheerful and sunny and Misty was…well, half the time she was cheerful and sunny and the other half she was completely out of her mind. He rubbed his eyes and rubbed the thoughts from his brain, continuing, "Coulda won it with my eyes closed."
She snorted, turning so she could snatch the remote from the floor and start flipping again, through commercials, infomercials, and any other useless filler that all happened at the exact same time. Frustrated, she dropped the remote again and stood, fixing the shorts that had ridden up. "Nice to hear the ego is still intact. I figured you pride might've taken a blow, realizing you were competing against brainless bubbleheads. Feel good to cream the unsuccessful, Ash?"
"And all that time," he said, ignoring the fact that her back was turned, ignoring what she said, so he could pay attention to that little twitch of real anger and disappointment in her voice, "I spent with my pokémon. I could have invited you and Brock and all the others, and all of us could have had our own competition or a relay race or something. Any pokémon tournament with you guys would have been miles better, fighting against stronger and better opponents, and having a relay race would have been relaxing and fun and given me a good break."
She cocked her head to the side, turning to him slowly. She was curious, gawking at him like he had just revealed he was a master at speaking a foreign language or had just figured out a complicated math problem. Or, better yet, looking at him with the same mix of confusion and amazement as when they discovered there were pokémon other than Meowth that knew how to talk. "Yeah, that's the truth. Too bad you didn't realize it before."
"Too bad," he agreed. "Because all that time, all that extra time I spent memorizing things that…that no trainer needs to. I don't need to know all the pokémon in alphabetical order. I don't need to train for one hit KO's. It's not like it gave me any kind of experience, practice, or helped my pokémon any. Only tortured the ones I knocked out and robbed some kid out of a title. How nice of me, stealing some kid's title. Mew, didn't anyone feeling like telling me I was being such a jerk?
"And I was isolating myself from everyone else, I could have gone to your gym and got a perfect first hand education. You've got an entire ecosystem in your pool and I passed it up for trivia that wouldn't even show up in a board game! And…" He stopped and smiled a bit. "I would have gotten it from a friend that's stuck by me for years and was one of my greatest teachers, a friend I let walk away and grow apart, which is only something a jerk would do, something Gary would do, because I was scared and I wasn't watching her closely and I didn't remember anything about her and I didn't even go to Brock for advice."
Misty blushed and wiggled in her spot, hands rolling over one another. "You're trying to flatter me into letting go of all your awful stuff, huh? Well, I'm not going to fall for it. You, Ash Ketchum, have been a big jerk lately. A lot of your friends came to see you during your so-called break, and how did you end up repaying them? You did nothing but ignore us and train! You have no idea how bad some of them felt about that!" She frowned deeper and blushed deeper. "And I'm not that good of a teacher."
He laughed. "Taught me an awful lot."
And the blush deepened again, arms crossing over her chest as if to protect herself. "I didn't teach you that much. You, me n' Brock, we all spent most of our time stumbling around like idiots and trying to figure out how to do anything. Just because I knew a few extra facts about type trumping, none of which you followed, anyway, doesn't mean I'm a good teacher. You learned most of it on your own and…and this isn't about that! It's about you being a major jerk lately, which you have been, and you can't deny it. You can't sweet talk it out of me. You've got everyone else to face too."
"Mmm," he agreed. "I do have to face a lot of other people. I'm sure they'll each have things to confronting me on. Brock'll yell at me for lying, Max for being an idiot, Tracey for not observing, Gary for being too much like him and May will probably try to comfort me, thinking that I was scared I would lose my touch or something else. I've got a lot of teachers, right, Misty? You're still probably the best, just because you were always so much fun. We've gotten too far though, as gym leader and trainer that we can't teach each other battle tricks anymore. It's time to teach ourselves, learn our own strategies."
"So I'm not your teacher anymore," she concluded. "Great, so everyone else can still teach you stuff but I'm useless. Gees, you run off to take care of your family duties for a little while and this is what happens."
"You've got plenty left to teach me! I mean, you just taught me…" He caught himself just in time, but there was still a statement left so open that they had both been swallowed up in it. For a minute, there wasn't anything to say except to stare and gulp until he finally picked up his courage.
He puffed out his chest as he stood, scooting a little closer to the couch. Pikachu was there. Safety was right under the couch, and he could crawl to her if everything went wrong with the redhead. He had a backup. He had his security blanket. If the world was too heavy and he wasn't as brave as most would like to believe, he would always have Pikachu. He would always have battling, even if he couldn't have friends and love to balance it out when he went so far.
But courage was courage and words were words, and he managed to use up all he knew in a single sentence: "Hey, Misty? Wanna hear about my dream?"
If you like to review, the button is there. If you don't, that's cool, and I hope you enjoyed!
So, I'm sure a lot of you saw this and thought, "Natty, what the hell are you doing? Don't you have other, more important things to do?" And there's a very good answer for that statement: Yes. Yes I do. In fact, this is probably the very bottom of the priority list, but it's done now, and now I can finish the epilogue for RT and the last chapters of Canon Rape without this on my mind, and it did weigh heavily on my mind. I've been wrestling with this for a couple months, and I've finally decided it's good enough to post so…-sigh- Hope it doesn't suck.
Now, the important stuff for all readers/reviewers.
First, this is a parody of "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland", one of my favorite books. It's meant to make you think, but also to make you laugh. It's my fun twist of the typical "ash iz obsessed w/ training and forgetz 2 love. Cn misty help him find lurve?" I find it a plausible situation, especially considering what the series has fallen to. Ash seems to care for his pokémon and rarely thinks of his human friends anymore. Instead of other characters being supporting characters, they seem to each have their own plots and goals, making it seem more like three people who are traveling together for safety rather than three good friends battling evil. So I'm mocking both fanfiction writers and the actual writers of the show.
Second, I developed Ash Ketchum's character. Please go write a fic for me where you do the same, because this will never, ever, ever happen on the show and I love characters getting developed.
Third, do not explain to me in your review that Brock, Tracey, May, Max or Gary were out of character. I know they're all the slightest bit off. That's part of the parody. However, if you find something to be completely wrong with Ash or with Misty after Ash wakes up, please do inform me.
And, finally, please do not rant at me about how Ash is a great friend. He is a great friend, but he is also very hard on himself and this is Ash's dream. Although his behavior probably does not constitute what most would think of as "a bad friend" he was acting pretty jerk-like (for him) and basically ditched his friends for pokémon. The reason the dream is so hard on Ash is because Ash has always, always been insanely hard on himself. It's why he constantly cries and demands a rematch every time he loses.