This happened a day after I watched Detective Pikachu. I've loved Mewtwo, from the day I saw the first Pokémon movie (and cried my eyes out like so many did, I suppose, with that one scene in the end). The character is right up my alley.

The live-action movie version had me hooked again.

I've never played a single game, I haven't followed the series at all, but that hasn't stopped me. I needed to write this.

For those who read my stuff in the past, you know what's coming: it's a massive canon divergence and just me working with what my brain is throwing at me. Absolute AU!

So be gentle.

XxXxXxXXxXxXxXXxXxXxXXxXxXxX

The streets were still littered with torn apart parade balloons, broken glass, rubble and whatever trash had been left behind as people dazedly went home or to a medical center. Small fires had been put out, roads closed, and trains had stopped for now. Police was securing evidence, reporters flocked around and tried to get good shots, and Pokémon were viewing the mess with sometimes confused eyes, muttering to themselves.

This year's Pokémon Day Parade would forever go down in Ryme City's history.

Not because it had been lavish and excelling all that had come before.

Not because it had more attendees or participants than any of the prior ones.

Not because if featured new parade balloon or celebrated a special anniversary.

No. It would be the one remembered as the day Howard Clifford, the great visionary and philanthropist, had tried to do something unspeakable to the human and Pokémon population of the city.

Merge a human consciousness with a Pokémon body, assimilating both into one. Because he had had the insane idea that it would make humans better, give them access to the evolutionary powers of the Pokémon, enable them to evolve themselves.

No one knew the whole truth yet.

No one knew who had helped foil that plan, who had freed Mewtwo, who had saved the city.

No one ever would, even if Lucy Stevens had wanted to run exclusive interviews and reports. In the end she had agreed that some matters should remain in the dark. Like the identity of Tim Goodman, as well as his father, and she would skirt around the appearance of Mewtwo a little. All the public needed to know was that Howard Clifford had abducted and experimented on this unique Pokémon.

The numerous Pokémon affected by the whole mind-transfer knew. They had felt the psychic energy, had recognized it on an instinctual level as something incredible. Not that they would tell anyone. Aside from other Pokémon.

So word spread among the Pokémon population, but the humans remained ignorant of the true events.

XxXxXxX

Nothing ever came without a consequence.

He could have wiped their minds, but he hadn't. He could have altered everyone's reality, their recollection of this day and the days before, but it had been like an instinct to leave the horrible events present in their memories as the people of Ryme City came to terms with what had occurred.

What he had done was reunite a father and his son.

Because Harry Goodman had earned his thanks. He might have started out as one of the many looking for a powerful Pokémon to claim, but he and his Pikachu had saved him in the end. He had made a mistake, like so many had, but he had atoned himself.

Mewtwo watched the two humans and the Pikachu, tracking their minds, finding nothing wrong with either of them. Transferring Harry's self back into his body had been rather… simple. There was nothing complicated about such a transfer, especially since the road had already been paved for it.

Just like undoing all that had been done to Pokémon and humans alike in Ryme City. Clifford had prepared them for Mewtwo's powers to work on such a grand scale, to easily separate human and Pokémon bodies and minds; after his own powers had fused them. It was all energy in the end, and the drug had been the catalyst.

It had drained him in the end, weakening his barriers, reminding Mewtwo that he had suffered in this battle as well. More than most, probably, aside from the human who had indirectly helped him. But where Tim Goodman's injuries were physical, Mewtwo's were on a psychic level.

High on adrenaline, endorphins racing through his systems, he hadn't felt the discomfort of his abused form. But now he did. Greatly. He felt his battered mind, the broken pieces everywhere, and he longed to crawl into a dark place and just… be. His psychic energy was vastly depleted and he was more vulnerable than he would ever confess to.

It was one of many reasons why he disappeared the moment he had brought back Harry.

He needed a safe haven to recover.

Not a dark hole. No. What he needed was another mind, a safe mind. Someone he trusted implicitly.

XxXxXxXXxXxXxXXxXxXxXXxXxXxX

"Cooperate and we won't hurt your human friend."

Something inside him twisted sharply and fury boiled up. ::If you touch him…!::

The smile was cold and cruel. "Do you really think you could stop us? We already neutralized your powers." The man leaned closer, the cruel streak of his voice reflecting in his eyes. "We can neutralize him as well. One word and he'll lose an eye, or a finger, maybe the ability to walk?" The smile was downright nasty. "Or we can take his friends and family first, make him watch, tell him it was your decision. Then, if you still resist, it will be him. Slowly."

He screamed in his mind, his shackled and crippled mind, his powers nothing but a memory.

"Do you want him to suffer?"

Mewtwo had never been closer than now to consider killing a human in cold blood. He felt it down to his very soul, that vicious hatred, that darkness that wanted to overwhelm his thinking.

"I thought so," the despicable human said and straightened back in his chair. He nodded at a woman in a lab coat. "He will be very cooperative, Dr. Laurent."

Give him a second. Just one second with his powers. He would eradicate the human from this world!

But he didn't get a second. Not even a fraction of it.

And with the threat to his human partner, Mewtwo cooperated.

He surrendered to the pain and humiliation, the inhuman treatments and being viewed as nothing but a lab animal.

XxXxXxXXxXxXxXXxXxXxXXxXxXxX

It had been too long.

Way too long.

So much time had passed and yet it had been just mere months. But those months had been spent trapped, isolated, held against his will, tortured as they extracted blood, cells and whatever else they needed out of his imprisoned form. They had used a sentient being as nothing but a living donor, milking him for his DNA.

Mewtwo had come to loathe scientists early on in his artificially created life and he would never trust them. What they did hurt. Those atrocious deeds had scarred him for life and humanity had been his enemy.

PCL, the Pokémon Comprehensive Laboratories, hadn't helped change that image. They had actually made it so much worse.

Humans meant only pain, never comfort and joy.

That, the unconditional support, joy, comfort and warmth, he had found only when he had allowed himself to open up his mind to something other than the fury and the need for revenge. He had found it years ago with the first clones he still protected fiercely today, who remained hidden away and flourished without humans in the wild. He had found it with the companionship freely offered by the one human who had changed his view of the world and humans so many years ago.

Ash Ketchum was different and had always been. He was special and still so incredibly normal. Years ago he had been a boy with aspirations to become the greatest Pokémon trainer.

Today he was more than just that. Yes, his picture was still in gyms around the world, his name etched into the frame with a date and the title he had won. Like so many youths had managed to be forever remembered for their poke-battles. Maybe the colors had faded by now, maybe he had been forgotten after a while, but there was evidence of his life out there; his youth.

But that wasn't what made him special. Many had come after him, gaining the same title. Many more would.

None had ever gained the trust of so many powerful Pokémon. None had ever saved the world as often as Ash Ketchum had. None would ever come close to the achievements of this one man, achievements that had nothing to do with badges or titles.

None were called a friend by Mewtwo. None were his partner. None were his!

Looking at his friend and partner now, Mewtwo breathed a sigh of relief. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders, his mind reaching out to touch his one and only counterbalance.

Ash was unhurt.

Pikachu was at his side, equally without blemish, looking worriedly at the other Pokémon. He voiced his questions, but Mewtwo was unable to answer.

The relief he felt as the realization that Ash was alright hit him and nearly brought him down to his knees.

He was here, in Ryme City; had come because of him. Had come for him! And he had been safe all the time. He hadn't been captured and tortured. He hadn't endured imprisonment. As much of a monster as Howard Clifford had been, he had at least not hunted Mewtwo's partner and had him removed, like he had tried to remove Harry Goodman.

It had been more lies… just more lies…

Masterful manipulations…

Humans lied and he should feel the old, burning hatred from deep within his battered, scarred soul, that anger and pain, but Mewtwo felt nothing. He didn't have the strength for it, the energy, and the will. All he wanted was… rest. He wanted comfort. He wanted…

Staring at Ash, all he wanted was to lose himself in the other mind and never let go.

Safety.

All he could think about was his safe haven.

Ash's face shifted through different expressions as his mind waded through the myriad of emotions coming from the feline Pokémon, feeling the psychic energies whirl around them, almost untamed.

"Holy… sh… Mewtwo…?!"

"Pikapi?! Pika!"

There were a dozen questions just in the way Ash spoke his name, but he couldn't answer. There was no right or wrong answer, just the pain and the joy mixing into one.

Mewtwo hadn't dared to hope.

Because, trapped in that abomination of a lab tank, in pain, desperate to escape, he had only ever caught fragments of words. Never anything real. He had been isolated from his senses. He had simply existed, not lived, and he had drifted a lot.

Now and then words had been audible. Like Ash's name. Like reminders to cooperate unless they make him.

Lies. Manipulations. Making him docile; tame. Playing him. Because the one good thing in his life, the one life he protected fiercely, was in danger.

When he had been free, unleashing his fury and pain upon those who had done this to him, rational thought hadn't figured into his actions until he had found the severely injured form of Harry Goodman, the man who had helped him escape.

Mewtwo had hidden himself after that, rationalizing it with the need to keep Ash safe. It had been a stupid move on his part, especially sticking around, but back then it had sounded logical, even if it didn't hold up to close scrutiny now. He had planted a human mind into a Pokémon, merged them, to do what? Hope that a small mouse Pokémon with sudden detective skills and the ability to talk to one single person would bring down the head of a gigantic company?

Maybe it had been his injured mind screwing with logic.

Maybe it had been the desire for revenge, to find Howard Clifford and make him pay. That almost murderous, burning need to avenge, to get retribution. Mewtwo never ran; his first instinct wasn't to seek out a safe haven and lick his wounds. It was to strike back and make the humans pay, on their knees, begging his forgiveness.

Well, his second instinct. The first had been to make sure Ash hadn't been in the lab, drugged, injured, or worse.

Yes, in hind sight he had made mistakes.

But also good choices.

Because Ash was okay. It ran like a mantra through Mewtwo's battered mind. Ash was okay. Not a scratch on him.

The strained shields cracked more, then fell slowly to pieces.

You're okay, he thought, unable to even use his mind-voice anymore. They didn't hurt you.

tbc...