His Beloved
Disclaimer: I do not own Ash, Pikachu, or any of the Pokemon. Don't sue me, for you'll get nothing.
Note: Italics signify memories, save for the last sentence, where they represent thought.
It had taken a long time to get back to Pallet Town after how far he had gone. He felt he needed to see his mother again, not having seen her last since he was . . .how old? Twelve? That was nine years ago. He hadn't stayed in contact with her; she must have been worried sick.
Adjusting the old backpack hanging over his right shoulder, Ash strolled down the beaten dirt path that was so familiar to him, even if it had been so long since he had last set foot upon it. He heard the soft padding behind him slow a bit, and turned to see the small yellow mouse sitting on the road, panting lightly.
"Come on, Pikachu," Ash said, taking a few steps toward the Pokemon and picked it up, cradling it in his arms. "We're almost there," He assured it.
A worry had set into Ash's heart a few weeks ago. His beloved Pokemon was slowing and becoming weaker with every passing day. His best friend, Pikachu, was growing into an old age, and the man feared what was to come in time. He couldn't bear the thought of losing his very first Pokemon, the one he had bonded with the greatest on his journey.
But he didn't want to lower Pikachu's spirits. He did his best to keep his own high. He smiled widely as he spotted it, coming over the hill. "Look! There it is, Pikachu!" He exclaimed, gazing over the small town. The Pokemon looked up, giving a soft expression of happiness as it saw Pallet, with the splotches of houses and roads between the green of trees and grass. He shifted slightly, looking to the side to see the hill, the Professor's Laboratory with the large windmill rotating upon it.
"Let's go find the house," Ash suggested cheerfully, starting down the hill and into the town. He took his time, though, looking over the streets and buildings that seemed to have never changed since he lived here when he was a boy. "We can visit the Professor afterward," He added after a while, and wondered what Professor Oak was doing at his age. Knowing Oak, Ash figured he was still the same as usual, studying Pokemon in the lab until the end of time.
As they arrived on the doorstep of the small house, Ash reached down to turn the doorknob, and smiled lightly when he found it wasn't locked. Opening the door, he stepped in. "Mom?" He called into the house. Wow, it felt so good to say that word again, no matter how childish it seemed. "Mom, it's me! I'm back!" He called.
The unforgettable face of his mother peered from the kitchen, a look of confusion on her features until she realized whom it was. A large smile stretched her lips, eyes becoming watery. "Ash! Oh, it is you!" She cried and went to him, hugging him tightly.
The man returned the hug, though only with one hand, still carrying Pikachu with the other. "It's good to see you again, mom," He said.
When she pulled away, she frowned. "I haven't heard from you for so long, Ash Ketchum! I was so worried! I thought something might have happened!" She scolded, but seeing the pitiful look on her son's face, she smiled again, slapping at his arms. "But look at you! You've gotten so big . . .Twenty-one years!" She exclaimed, and pulled him into another hug, this time the tears running down her face. "I'm so happy you're back."
"I'm happy, too, mom," Ash replied, pulling back after a bit to wipe the tears with his thumbs. It gave him a closer look of her, and he suddenly laughed. "And I guess I'm not the only one who's changed around here! Look at you!"
The comment made her scowl, though not without humor. "You'd do good to keep your mouth shut about that, mister!" She said, folding her arms. "People get old, okay?"
He chuckled, though the mention of becoming old reminded him of Pikachu. He looked down at his tired Pokemon, a saddened expression coming to his face. "You're not the only one, though," He said.
The smile vanished from the woman's face as she followed Ash's gaze to the Pokemon lying in his arms. "Oh, Ash," She whispered, and scooped Pikachu gently into her own embrace, looking down at the mouse with grief.
Pikachu raised its heavy eyelids, lifting its ebony eyes to the face of the woman and squeaking a small "Chu" before closing them again.
"I had to carry him almost all of the way. I hate seeing him like this," Ash said, his shoulders shuddering. "It's horrible. He's so weak, and this time . . . this time I can't help him!" He clenched his teeth, keeping his eyes from watering up.
The woman pulled Ash into a loose hug. "It's okay, dear. You don't have to stop yourself from crying. He is a good friend, and he deserves a good cry," She said, nodding.
After a few moments of silence, she pulled away. "Here, let's let him rest up a bit. I've kept your old room nice and tidy; you can put him on your bed. I'm sure he'd like that," She said, smiling lightly.
Nodding, Ash turned, walking from the room and to his own bedroom, opening the door to find everything how it used to be before he left on his adventure. He couldn't help but give a small smirk, thinking of how determined he was back then, how much he really adored Pokemon, although he still did.
Walking to the bed, he set Pikachu down. "There you go, friend. Nice and cozy in my old bed," He said, smiling. He could see the Pokemon's gratitude faintly in the old face, the large, half-lidded black eyes looking up at him with affection. Ash gave a soft chuckle. "You sleep well, okay? I'm going to go see the Professor for a bit, but I'll be back in a few minutes," He said, lifting the blanket to tuck the electric mouse in. He watched silently as Pikachu's eyes sank shut, falling asleep quickly.
He said a brief farewell to his mother before making his way toward the laboratory, knowing the road perfectly. He jogged up the stone steps and knocked on the door before pushing it open. "Professor? Professor Oak?" He called and another man came, tall with longer, black hair.
"Ash?"
Ash's eyes widened, and he laughed. "Tracey!" He exclaimed, and the two hugged a greeting, patting each other's shoulders.
"Wow, Tracey, look at you!"
"Look at me? Ash, what in heaven's name happened to you? Last time I checked, you were just a puny little ten-year-old!" The two laughed gleefully.
"Tracey? Who is it?" A voice from another room asked. Ash turned to see an elder figure sitting in a wheelchair, frowning as he squinted.
"Professor! It's Ash! Ash Ketchum? Remember?" Tracey asked, chuckling as they walked to the man.
"Ash? Really?" Oak asked as he studied the black-haired man, and then laughed. "Oh my! It is you! Oh, good to see you again, my boy!" He said heartily as Ash bent over to give a quick hug.
"Yeah, it's great to see you too, Professor Oak!" Ash exclaimed. "It's been so long!"
"Too long, Ash. Much too long!" Oak corrected. "How are you? And your Pokemon? Have you been training hard and collecting information for your Pokedex?" He asked.
"Yes, Professor," Ash answered. "I'm doing well, and so are my Pokemon . . ." He paused. "Well, most of them. Pikachu isn't holding up real well. He's gotten, well, old and . . . I'm afraid he's going to . . ." He faltered, but Oak nodded gravely.
"The time comes in every living creature's life," The professor said. "I'm coming much closer to it myself, but you must remember: Death is only the beginning of a new journey. Pikachu will never forget you, Ash. I'm positive of that."
Ash nodded as Tracey placed a hand on his shoulder, looking sympathetic.
It was silent for a few moments before the professor suddenly chuckled. "Well, Ash, how is your Pokedex coming along? Have you caught any rare Pokemon lately?" He asked. "I expect to hear all the details, boy!"
A small smile crossed Ash's face. "All right, Professor," He said. They made themselves comfortable on the couches in a section of the large room with tall shelves of books where Ash began his long story, telling the two about all the things that he could remember that had happened on his journey. He bragged about the many Pokemon he had caught and the badges he had won, also, being so close to the tournaments coming up and spoke so determinedly of winning them all.
Neither of the three were aware of the hours that passed, the sun beginning to sink lower into the hills as they talked. They were jolted from their conversation by the sound of a door banging open and running feet.
"Mom!" Ash said as he saw his mother run into view, standing up quickly as she gasped for air.
"Oh, Ash! It's Pikachu!" She cried, worry and fear in her eyes, and the man needed no more than those words.
He took off toward the door without looking back to anyone, rushing down the street as fast he could. Pikachu! His mind screamed over and over as he sped to the house, swinging the door open and hurrying inside. As he neared the bedroom, he could hear the Pokemon's electricity all about and opened the door to be greeted by a painful shock.
"Pikachu!" He yelled as he willed himself to walk forward, making his way slowly toward the mouse lying on the bed. Pikachu was squealing in pain, a sound that made Ash's blood run ice cold with terror.
He grasped the Pokemon without a second thought receiving waves of electricity speeding through his body and numbing his limbs immediately. "Pikachu! Calm down! I'm here, Pikachu!" He cried as he fell onto the bed with the mouse tucked into his arms, pressed against his chest. "Please stop."
Taking the agonizing pain without a single cry, he lie there for a few more moments before Pikachu finally calmed, the Pokemon gasping for air. "Pikachu," Ash whispered, holding his friend close as tears welled into his eyes.
"This can't be happening," He sobbed, "Not now . . . You can't die! You were my first Pokemon . . . My first best friend . . ." "Well, there still is one Pokemon left, but I, uh . . ."
Ash gasped. "Professor, I'll take it!"
The Pokeball with a lightning bolt designed on it raised from the center of the platform, and the professor picked it up. "I have to warn you. There is a problem with this last one," Oak said, frowning.
"I have to have a Pokemon!" Ash pressed.
"Well, in that case . . ." The professor said, and handed it to the boy.
There was a flash of light as the ball opened, and a small, yellow creature appeared upon the platform. "Pikachu!"
"It's name is Pikachu," Professor Oak said.
"Oh, it's so cute! It's the best of all!" Ash squealed, picking it up.
"You'll see," Oak mumbled from behind.
"Oh, hi, Pikachu!" Ash greeted, hugging it adoringly, the Pokemon letting out an annoyed "Pika" before it suddenly sent jolts onto the youth, electrocuting him mercilessly.
"It's also known as the electric mouse. It's usually shy, but can have an electric personality!"
Ash remembered having to drag the unwilling Pokemon out of town that day, wearing those pink rubber gloves and the clothes wire because Pikachu hated to be confined in the Pokeball.
"Do you still remember that day, Pikachu? The day we met?" Ash asked, the Pokemon in his arms replying with a weak "Chu".
"You hated me so much," Ash mused, smiling lightly at the old memories. "You refused to do anything I said."
Remembering how foolish he felt tackling that little Pidgey with his pajama shirt, he chuckled. The bird had gotten away in the end, using a gust attack and then had covered him with sand.
"And then I got us into so much trouble . . ." He added.
"I'll get you this time," Ash muttered, picking up another rock and threw it at the shadowed figure of what he had thought was the Pidgey.
When the bird turned around, Ash was surprised to find it was not a Pidgey at all, but what his Pokedex had named a Spearow.
It had tried to attack him, then went for Pikachu. After a few moments of dodging the enraged Pokemon's attacks, Pikachu had given it a good shock, but it had only turned into more disaster.
The Spearow called to a large tree, and Ash recalled how frightened he had been when dozens of Spearow flocked out, giving chase to the trainer and his Pokemon. They attacked Pikachu, making it fall to the ground with a shriek, and Ash quickly picked it up, shielding the mouse from the birds as he continued running. They had come to the waterfall, and were forced to jump.
By some strange stroke of luck, a young redhead had snagged them on her fishing line and thrown them back onto shore. Ash had borrowed her bike, promising to return it someday.
He raced down the path with Pikachu lying in the basket, pedaling the bike as quickly as his legs could allow him.
"Just hang on now, Pikachu! We're almost there!" He cried, and felt small droplets of water on his face, rain suddenly pouring from the blackened skies.
With infuriated cries, the Spearow swooped down and pecked at Ash, making him lose concentration as the bike fell into a small hole, flinging both the boy and injured Pokemon onto the muddy ground with shouts of pain. The Spearow flew back up into the sky, but did not leave.
Out of desperation, Ash took out an empty Pokeball, holding it out to his Pokemon. "Pikachu, get inside! I know you're afraid of going in there, but if you're inside, maybe I can save you!" He said, "Please Pikachu! Please listen to me and go inside. After that, then . . . After that, just trust me!"
He left the Pokeball on the ground in front of Pikachu, getting to his feet despite the pain that pulsed through his entire body. Standing a few feet from the hurt Pokemon, he faced the flock of Spearow, throwing his arms out to the side, his hands spread wide.
"Spearow! Do you know who I am? I'm Ash, from the town of Pallet! I'm destined to be the world's number one Pokemon Master! I can't be defeated by the likes of you. I'm going to capture and defeat you all! You hear me?" He screamed into the howling wind and rolling thunder. Flashes of lightning all around, he could only see glimpses of the raging enemies. "COME AND GET ME!"
Hearing the shrieks of the Spearow suddenly coming much closer, with another flash of lightning he could see them diving at him, aiming to kill. Everything seemed to go in slow motion at that point as Ash felt pressure on his shoulder, seeing the small form of Pikachu thrusting itself into the air at the birds.
The sound of Pikachu screaming its name and the amazing bright yellow light that blinded him were the last things he could register before he blacked out.
"Pikachu," Ash said, tears falling endlessly from his eyes, unable to be stopped. "You saved my life. I love you so much, my friend," He held the Pokemon tightly.
"Pikachu," The mouse said, looking up at its beloved trainer. With the last bit of strength it could muster, it leaned up and gave Ash a small lick on the cheek, just like it had on the morning after that terrible night. It lay itself back down, resting so happily for one last time in its sobbing trainer's grasp.
I love you too, Ash Ketchum.
Fin
Author's Notes: Sssh . . . Don't you dare mention Pikachu's abnormally short life span. I know it should have lived much longer than that, but the thought was good for a fan fiction, and I couldn't just throw it aside. Read and review please! Thank you.