Pikachu's Requiem

This story is dedicated to my beloved Annabelle, a much-beloved standard poodle who passed away in March 2007 at the age of 12 and ¾. It is also my debut as a fan fiction author.

Pokémon is the rightful property of Nintendo. I own nothing but the plot of this story. © Peach Wookiee Tales, 2007.

Ash Ketchum, at age 27, was many things. He was a husband, brother-in-law, future father and, of course, a Pokémon master. Since the age of ten, he had aspired to this latter status, and it had carried through his teen years into adulthood. He had lucked out when he married his childhood friend, Misty, a fellow Pokémon trainer, when they were both 21. They had many friends and a huge family around them, not to mention the many Pokémon the couple had captured and tamed over the years.

Ash's most beloved Pokémon who'd seen him through all his adventures was Pikachu. Pikachu had brown beady eyes, yellow fur with black points on his long ears, three brown stripes on his back and a mustard-brown tail that looked like a lightning bolt. Normally, Pikachu was a very happy excited creature who always perked up when Ash came home from the Pokémon Center. But today…

"Pikachu?" Ash called as he came through the door, "Pikachu, where are you?" Misty was outside tending to her Corsela in the backyard Pokémon pool and she heard Ash call out for his furry little friend. "Ash, didn't Pikachu come when you called him?" she asked as she came in and got a kiss from her husband. "No, Misty; is he okay?" They headed upstairs to their bedroom and found Pikachu sleeping on the foot of their bed.

"Hey, buddy, you didn't come to the door when I called," Ash said, drawing close. Then he realized something was very wrong. "Pika…" the rodent-like creature said, trying to lift his head and quickly having to lay it back down. "Pika…chu…"

"What's the matter, Pikachu?" Ash asked, picking up his friend. Misty brushed Pikachu's forehead. "He doesn't feel like he has a fever, but maybe we should have him checked. I'll call Brock." Misty quickly called her and Ash's friend, who had achieved his goal of becoming one of the best Pokémon breeders in the world, particularly for his Volpix cubs. He rushed over from his home, not too far from the Ketchums.

"Ash," he said after working over Pikachu for a few minutes, "I think we need to take Pikachu to Nurse Joy at the Pokémon Center. He's got something that I can't diagnose." Together, they took the ailing Pikachu to the Pokémon Center.

"Good afternoon… Ash, what are you doing back so qui...?" The question died on Nurse Joy's lips as she saw the small creature in Ash's arms. "Oh, dear, let me have a look at him." "Nurse Joy, his breathing is labored and he's very lethargic," Brock said, for once not asking the pretty, pink-haired nurse for a date. "It's beyond my skill to figure this one out." "All right, I'll see what I can do for him…"

Several hours passed. Ash had called his friends, May, Max and Dawn, as well as Professors Birch and Oak and his mother, Delia. Misty had called her sisters in Cerulean City, and everyone had raced to the Pokémon Center to be with the young master. Finally, Nurse Joy came out of the exam rooms, her face grave. "Ash… I'm sorry, but Pikachu has a rare type of cancer. It's very aggressive, and there is nothing I can do." Ash paled, and Misty held his hand. "So… he's just going to die?" the young man asked, his voice showing agony. "I'm afraid so. At this point, there is one thing we can do so he doesn't suffer." Ash knew what that meant and clenched his fists.

Brock interpreted what that clenching of fists meant. "Ash…" "That's killing him! I can't just..!" Ash nearly shouted in a voice reminiscent of his childhood self. "Ash, Pikachu can't really tell us how much he's suffering," Brock said gently, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "But Brock…" "Brock's right, Ash," Misty said. "It's not killing him in cold blood. You're helping him end his misery." "That doesn't make me feel any better… I just don't want to lose him… Pokémon are supposed to outlive their trainers and I'm supposed to be the best!" "Ash… you might want to see him…" Nurse Joy said, with tears in her eyes.

Ash walked into the exam room where Pikachu lay, half-hoping the little electric mouse would be sitting up and happily awaiting him, but somehow the young man knew that wouldn't happen. Instead, Pikachu was barely able to lift his head, but did his best to greet his trainer and friend of 17 years. "Pika… Pikachu…" "Hey, Pikachu," Ash said, and then found himself choked by tears. He picked up the little creature, and just cried. "I can't help you get better… I can't do anything…" Ash choked out.

And then, Pikachu looked up at Ash with love in the small brown eyes, looking into the human's brown eyes… Ash… Pikachu communicated with Ash as other Pokémon had had to communicate with the human trainer in the past. Ash, it hurts so much… Help me not to hurt anymore. "Pikachu," Ash said, "the only way to stop the pain is for you to die… I don't want you to die… I love you so much…" I love you, too. I'll be with other Pokémon, and I'll watch over you as I always have…

Ash sat with his beloved pet for 15 minutes, remembering his tenth birthday when he first got Pikachu from Professor Oak… Pikachu, frying Misty's brand new bike to a crisp… Forcing Team Rocket to blast off perpetually… Saving Ash and his friends from one predicament after another… winning battle after battle… Ash smiled through his tears, remembering all of those good times on his journey with Pikachu and again wishing that it didn't have to end like this.

Finally, Ash came to Nurse Joy and told her of his decision… "I don't want Pikachu to hurt anymore…" "All right…" One by one, the people that had gathered went in and said goodbye to the furry yellow friend they each loved. And then Nurse Joy filled a needle with a drug and placed the needle in Pikachu's right foreleg. She pushed the plunger down, and within seconds, the electric mouse's eyes closed forever.

Two days later, the people of Palette Town gathered to say goodbye to Ash Ketchum's Pikachu. People had come from all over to pay respects to the beloved Pokémon, even two people and one Pokémon that had been the yellow creature's enemies. "Goodbye, Pikachu," Meowth said, laying a flower in the small blue coffin, as a tear rolled down his furry cheek. "You was always a good fighter, and I guess I thought we'd be fightin' for longer…"

Meanwhile, Jessie and James had come up to Ash. "We're not here to fight," James said, holding his hands up in a gesture of pacification, "we just wanted to say how sorry we are that you lost him." "Why? You're probably just mad you never caught him," Ash growled. "No," Jessie said, tears in her eyes, "he was your friend like Arbok was mine. He didn't die, but he distracted some other Pokémon so James, Meowth and I could get away. James lost Wheezing that day, too. We met Cacnia and Serviper, but as much as we loved them, we missed Wheezing and Arbok." "And… I almost lost Chimeco and left him with my grandparents because he wasn't strong enough to travel," James said softly, also tearing up. "Chimeco died a month later, and… I would've given anything to have him back." Ash nodded, and the members of Team Rocket shook the former "twerp's" hand. Then they each went up to the casket and left two yellow roses.

Finally, the time came to close the casket… "Goodbye, buddy…" Ash said, and broke down crying in his wife's and mother's arms. Though Ash had and would have other Pokémon, there would never be another like Pikachu.

The End