She didn't really know what had happened. She just knew that he had gone out for a walk one day and not returned. The little Pikachu had, though. It jumped around and made a big fuss, even going to far as to zap her the tiniest bit when she'd turned to walk away, content to ignore it.

She'd paid attention then. It'd never shocked her before, not even as a child when she'd pulled at its ears and tail and screamed much too loudly in its face. It'd been calm then, in comparison. Something was wrong.

She followed it out the door, down the street, into the woods. It was there she found him, just to the side of the path, a dark, bruised place on his head. She'd called for him, but for the first time ever, he hadn't answered her.

Things after that passed in a blur. He was still alive, but the doctors didn't know when he would wake up. They said it could be days, weeks, months, years…never. They didn't know. She tried not to be frightened. It would be okay.

The Pikachu didn't leave his side even once. And, unlike her, when they'd taken him away for surgery, the doctor didn't tell it to sit out in the waiting room like he'd told her to. The yellow rodent just perched itself precariously on the wheels of the stretcher.

"Wait," she'd called after the doctors, "the Pikachu…"

The doctor stopped and looked at her, startled. One of the nurses patted his hand and shook her head. "It's okay. He knows to stay out of the way, don't you, Pikachu?" He'd leaned down then, addressing the electric Pokémon under the stretcher.

"Pika!" It answered and the doctor chuckled and began to wheel the stretcher back again. Not for the first time, she was almost jealous of the little thing. But the she shook her head and settled down to wait.

He came out of surgery hours later, the doctor simply saying they'd done all they could and it was up to him now. He turned to leave them, only stopping to scratch the Pikachu behind the ears. "He's tough, it'll be okay." The doctor said in parting, but she thought to herself that it didn't so much seem like he was talking to her. Rather he seemed to be reassuring the Pikachu, who only responded with another repetition of those same two syllables.

"Pika!"

Days passed. She flipped on the news, somehow, he'd managed to rate a private room, she wasn't sure if that was worrying or not. She was surprised to see his face when the set powered on.

"Ash Ketchum was found in the woods by Pikachu and his daughter earlier this week. Reports claim that he is currently comatose, but the hospital refuses comment. We'll keep you updated-"

She cut the set off quickly; startled that he had gotten even a passing comment on the news. It was only later she found herself a bit unsettled. Why had they mentioned the Pikachu before her? And why had they said Pikachu, not 'a Pikachu' or 'his Pikachu'? Just Pikachu.

The thought faded from her mind soon enough. From then on out, there were always visitors and gifts, day and night. People she'd never heard of sent flowers, people she'd never met stopped by to visit. They seemed so broken, seeing him lying there, a few of them even cried. She wondered to herself, if he was so important to them, why had she never seen them?

Some only stopped by for a moment, some offered to sit with him.

"Go on," they'd tell her, "go get something to eat. I'll stay here with him."

Once, out of curiosity, she'd hovered outside the door to hear what was going on. A lot of what he'd said hadn't made any sense to her. He mentioned places she'd never been, people she'd never met, pasts she'd had no part in. The one thing she did get out of it was the strange fact that he'd greeted him by name, like an old friend, and then turned to the Pikachu and done the same.

"Pikachu," he'd said, "how are you doing? It's been forever."

She scurried off then, because she really did want to grab a drink while there was someone in the room. She hated leaving him by himself, so the reprieve was more than welcome.

Some of the visitors were more than just strange, though. Like the Nurse, for example. Not one of the nurses who stopped by every day and took a myriad of readings from the machines surrounding him. No, this nurse was a Pokémon nurse. Nurse Joy, though even she knew enough about Pokémon to know the name meant nothing. They were all called Nurse Joy, every single one of them. This one was older, though, her face had the slightest trace of lines around her mouth from many years of smiling, and frowning, at brash young trainers who didn't know enough about Pokémon to take care of them properly just yet.

She came about once a week, sometimes more, sometimes less, followed by a Chansey with a little white hat on its head, a first aid symbol displayed proudly. She didn't quite shoo the other nurses away, but they didn't seem to mind when the older nurse took his readings for them, merely handing them the updated chart when they peeked their heads into the room.

She always checked on the Pikachu, too. It endured it with good grace, saying 'ah' when prompted and following the light with its big black eyes.

"Fit as ever, Pikachu." She'd say fondly when she was done, scratching it behind the ears.

"Pikapi?" it would say back and it sounded like a question not matter how much she told herself it wasn't.

"He's fine too." Nurse Joy would answer, smiling and patting the still form's hand. "He's just resting. Everyone deserves a nice rest. He'll be up and about soon. Just give it time."

"Pika." It would say and crawl to curl up in customary spot, on top of his abdomen, just low enough to where he could still breathe easy.

Then Nurse Joy would leave, nodding at her, maybe pausing to wish her a good day, but more often than not, passing in silence.

She was far from the strangest visitor, though. That title went to a much stranger bunch, dressed in strange costumes and blatantly ignoring the 'one visitor at a time' policy the hospital had. They only visited once, but that was not so strange, many people had only come once.

"Wow, it really is the twerp." The woman with the strange red hair said.

"He's taller than me!" the man said in outrage as he regarded the still form.

"No, he isn't!" the Meowth said, and didn't that give her fright when it talked. She'd never known Pokémon could learn to speak before, never heard anything like that.

"Yes, he is, look!" the man tried to crawl on to bed with him and the Pikachu, previously content to sit and watch them, jumped to its feet.

"Pika…" it said warningly and the man backed off quickly, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Chill, he didn' mean nothin'." The Meowth said and the Pikachu laid back down, its eyes on them.

"It would be rather easy to capture you right now, though, wouldn't it?" the woman said, almost thoughtfully. The Pikachu's cheeks buzzed as sparks danced along them.

"Not that we would!" the woman said, sounding almost offended. "Honestly, we're criminals, but we do have some morals."

The Pikachu snorted and the Meowth laughed.

The woman sighed and took a seat. She reached a hand out, warily. "May I?" she asked.

"Pi pikachu pi pika. Pi pikapi ka." The Pikachu said.

"He said ta go ahead but he's watchin' ya. Says the twerp's hurt enough." The Meowth said and wasn't that curious too, that the Pikachu was actually saying something.

The woman patted the still form's hand and brushed his hair away from his face. She sighed. "He was a good kid."

"Pika." The electric rodent agreed tiredly. The woman reached up and ran her fingers lightly over its fur. It twitched.

"Relax." She said and her voice sounded almost amused. "It's just been awhile, that's all. We've settled down anyways. We're too old for all that now, don't give me that look, I'm serious."

"Say," the man spoke up suddenly and she noticed he was looking at her. "Who is this?"

She started to open her mouth and answer him, but apparently, the question wasn't being directed at her.

"Pikapi pi pikachu." The Pikachu said, its ear twitching slightly and the woman scratched at it.

"Oh yeah, he did have a daughter, didn' he?" the Meowth said.

"She does look a bit like him, from back then." The man said, eying her more closely now.

"No, no, he was younger then. He was, um…" the Meowth trailed off.

"Pikapi pika." The Pikachu replied.

"Ten, yeah. He was ten." It finished.

The woman patted the Pokémon's head one more time before standing up. "I suppose we'll leave now. You'll tell him we visited, right?"

"Pika."

"Not too soon, might send 'im right back under!" the Meowth said, cackling and scampering away when the Pikachu's cheeks sparked warningly again.

"Bye, Pikachu!" the man and woman called over their shoulders.

She wanted to ask the Pikachu questions, she had so many, but it was late. She was tired. And she didn't speak Pokémon. She crawled under the covers of the roll-away that she'd been sleeping on since this all started and feel asleep.

She dreamed strange dreams that night. Dreams of being smaller than small, barely knee high. She toddled around her house curiously. The living room was full of Pokémon, more than she'd ever imagined seeing at once, of every type and size. And in the middle of them all, he stood, upright and younger. Smiling like he always had. The Pikachu was perched on his head, but the others had his attention for now.

"You guys can't stay, I told you, I release you. Be wild. Or, if you want a trainer, just let me know and I'll find one for you. But you can't stay here. Not anymore." He said and she stayed in the doorway. She didn't want to interrupt.

One of the Pokémon grumbled something and rubbed against his legs insistently.

"I love you guys, you know I do. But I have more important things to worry about now."

Another one, a bird-like creature, squawked in what sounded like anger, its gaze directed at the Pikachu on top of his head.

"None of that. I let him go too. He just doesn't know how to follow directions, just like some other Pokémon I know." His eyes swept the room then and landed on her. He waded through the crowd and picked her up, balancing her on his hip. "I've got more important things in my life now. And you guys are dangerous. You can still visit, I can't stop you. But you can't be my Pokémon anymore. I can't be a Pokémon trainer anymore. That's the way things have to be."

The Pokémon filed out. He said goodbye to each one with fondness, and his eyes twinkled a little bit. Finally, there was only one left.

"Pikachu…" he started but it jumped away from his grasping fingers and curled up on the couch, looking completely at home. "Pikachu, it isn't fair to make them leave and not make you go too."

"Pikapi pikachu. Pika pika pi pikachu ka!" the Pikachu said.

"You want to be a pet?" he asked incredulously.

"Pika."

"You can't be a pet!"

"Pika! Pika pi pi pika ka pikachu! Pi pikapi!" It was standing now and it sounded angry, but under that, it sounded desperate.

"You want to protect me?"

"Pika."

"Pikachu, I don't need protecting anymore. This isn't the same. And besides all that…I just don't want you to have to battle anymore."

"Pikapi pi pikachu pi pi pika ka."

"Protect her?" he stopped for a moment, as if considering it. "You'll have to be a pet, for real. All or nothing. No shocking her or me for that matter. Are you sure? It'll be boring. It won't be like Pokémon journeys were. It'd just be us in this house, in this town, maybe forever."

"Pika."

He sighed. "Then I guess I can't really say no, can I, buddy?"

The Pikachu jumped from the couch to his shoulder and he reached up with his free hand to pet it, a smile on his face…

She woke up. The sun was shining through the blinds and she went about getting ready for the day and the many visitors it would presumably bring.

But it seemed the humans had run out. Things changed again. Today, the visitor was a Squirtle wearing sunglasses. It walked in without a care in the world.

"Pikachu!" the Pikachu exclaimed, looking shocked and happy.

"Squirtle!" the turtle-like Pokémon said back, equally excited. It jumped on to the bed and curled up at his side.

She leaned back in her chair and resolved herself to the weirdness.

Some days, they were easy to ignore. They'd curl up in a chair or on the bed and fall asleep, or chatter quietly with the Pikachu in that strange Pokémon language of theirs. And occasionally, they were minor annoyances, like the water Pokémon who stayed out in the fountain, but shot water guns at the window. And there were the rare days, when they were much harder to ignore, like the day she heard tapping at the window and turned to see a Charizard looking in at her. But the Pikachu always seemed happy to see them, as if meeting up with long lost friends.

Finally, one night, she gathered some courage. She wasn't scared of the Pikachu, it'd been around since she was little and it'd never hurt her. But it had been years since she played with it, years since she had regarded it as something other than a nuisance and an expense, especially since the only thing she was allowed to feed it was fruit or some special Pokémon food that was mailed to them from a famous breeder named Brock. (Of course, she'd also never been told they got that food for free.) That and the Pikachu had stolen a lot of attention from her over the years. When she'd been younger, it'd been a playmate, but it had been years and years and she had learned to be jealous. Still, she was not afraid, not of it.

But she was afraid of the answers she might get from it, presuming she understood anything it said. Which she doubted.

"You understand me, don't you?" she asked and it looked at her curiously. She nearly gave up then.

Then its head tilted in what could've been a nod. "Pika."

She regained her bearings quick. "There's something I don't know, isn't there? About his past; about yours?"

"Pika." It said again, clearly projecting its agreement.

"Can't you tell me? Can't you talk, like that Meowth?" she asked and it shook its head in a distinctly human gesture.

"One last thing." She said and it looked at her, waiting. "You're not just a Pikachu, are you? That's not…What I mean is, Pikachu's your name, isn't it?"

"Pika." It agreed again. "Pikapi pi Pikachu."

It curled up on his stomach again, keeping only one eye open to watch her with. It was a clear dismissal. She went to bed without a fuss and saw it close its eyes shortly before she, too, succumbed to sleep.

The next day, a red head visited, and, for the first time since this all started, she actually sat by her instead.

"You're his daughter, right?" she asked. "I've been putting this off, but I guess you must've been confused about all the publicity. He just wanted you to be normal, or safe. You can't really blame him."

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" she asked and she couldn't believe how much she sounded like a whining child just then.

"Yes. But first…" the woman stood and plucked Pikachu off of his stomach. "Come sit with me, Pikachu, I've missed you."

"Pikachu." It chirped happily enough, though its eyes wandered back to its former perch.

"He was a famous trainer, once. It was a long time ago, before you were born. But he wanted to be the very best. And he never gave up, stubborn kid." The woman sighed. "That reminds me, my name is Misty. He was ten years old when I met him. He stole my bike."

"Really?" she asked, shocked and Misty laughed.

"Yup. I used it as an excuse to follow him. I told him I wouldn't stop following him until he bought me a new bike. Kids back then, we didn't have any money, really, there was no way he could've paid me back. And he did take it for a good cause; Pikachu probably would've died if he hadn't gotten him to the Pokémon Center so quickly." At that, Misty scratched Pikachu behind the ears and it closed its eyes in pleasure. Suddenly, she laughed. "Years later, he gave me a bike for my birthday and told me I'd have to come up with a new excuse."

She sighed and went back to the story. "He was a good kid, though, if not particularly bright. And he never gave up. He won a lot of people's respect that way, just by acting on what he believed in. You've probably met a lot of them while he's been here. But, in the end, he got his dream. No one could say he was anything but the very best. He saved the world. Multiple times, actually. If you go to just about any big city, you can find his picture, not like he now, a picture from years ago, on billboards and souvenirs. He's a legend. He wanted to disappear, though, when you were born. He didn't want you to have all that pressure on you, to be like him. But he couldn't just disappear. Instead he…"

She trailed off and looked down at the Pokémon in her lap. "I always was jealous of Ash for having Pikachu. I would've killed to have a Pokémon like him. He didn't deserve him sometimes. I'm glad, though, that he couldn't convince him to leave. Ash quit being a Pokémon trainer. He released all his Pokémon and went and visited all the ones he promised he'd come back for, explaining it'd be better if they just stayed where they were. The Pokémon weren't happy. They loved him, after all. But they eventually agreed. The ones that wanted to go home got sent home, even if he had to buy them plane tickets to get them there. The ones that wanted new trainers and new adventures got the best ones Ash could find."

"If he went through all that trouble to let them go, then why did Pikachu get to stay?" she asked and the older woman sighed.

"Pikachu didn't ever want to be parted from Ash. He agreed to be a pet, to learn to be something less wild and more peaceful, so that he could stay. There's nothing Ash could've done to get rid of Pikachu." Misty pet Pikachu's fur once more before standing up and returning him to the bed.

"I still don't understand why he never told me." She said, before Misty could leave.

She looked sad. "You don't save the world without making a few enemies. But it's not my place. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

A week later, he moved in his sleep. The next morning, Nurse Joy was there.

"It looks like he'll wake soon." Joy said and Pikachu looked as excited as she felt. "You should clean up before he gets here, he'd be upset if he saw your coat that color."

"Pika." It agreed and followed her around and bothered her so much that night when she was trying to shower that she eventually did give it a bath. It shined afterwards and looked far more excited than she could ever remember it being.

Finally two days later, the beep of the heart monitor sped up slightly and Pikachu perched by his head. He groaned and his eyelids fluttered, but didn't open.

"Pikapi!" it cried loudly and the eyelids pulled back.

"Pikachu?" he rasped.

"Pikapi!" Pikachu cried, hugging his next as well as it could, rubbing its cheek against his.

"Dad." She said and he smiled up at her weakly.

Still, she thought she'd never seen him so happy as when he gathered what little strength he could to painstakingly lift his hand and lay it on top of the overjoyed little Pokémon's head. He smiled and she thought she could see the ten year old kid Misty had spoken of. The good kid. That's what everyone had said about him. He was a good kid.

They didn't have to say it, though, she would've known, if only for the way Pikachu's eyes lit up as it pressed itself closer.

Quite suddenly, she wondered what it might be like to have a Pokémon of her own. Seeing the two of them together like this, she thought, maybe, just maybe, she just might have to find out.