Disclaimer: I don't own the Pokemon Universe, otherwise I'd have made an M-Rated, Team Rocket video game by now, entitled it Grand Theft Pokemon, and made a small fortune ("You have defeated HIKER! Would you like to (a) Steal his Pokemon, (b) Steal his money, or (c) Bludgeon him with a monkey wrench?"). The story is mine, as are the couple of original characters.

Rating: PG-13, for language and violence.

Chapter Three: Veterans
Tracey looked out the window of the small jet plane. Still more ocean. He'd been seeing the same scenery for hours. He sighed. How boring. The plane was quiet, except for the nervous drumming of Gary's fingers. Tracey looked over to see how his friend was holding up. He looked a little pale, but for the most part had managed to keep his composure. Ever since the horrible crash, Gary had seemed nervous around airplanes. Tracey couldn't say he liked them much, either.

Tracey ran a finger across the scar tissue along his jawbone. He glanced over to see Gary rubbing at a scar he'd earned along his forearm. 'What a couple of beauty contestants we are,' he thought with a wry chuckle. Looking back out the window, Tracey thought he caught sight of land in the distance. By squinting a little, he could just make out a shoreline. "Hey, Gar', we don't have too much of this bland ocean view left."

Peering out his own window, Gary nodded, confirming Tracey's statement. He frowned. "Too bad our first sight of Kanto is gonna be..." he trailed off, unable to finish.

'Pallet Town,' Tracey finished silently. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned it until they were well over Viridian.

Gary's gaze trailed to the knotted-up jean that remained of his leg, then back out the window. Tracey bit his lip. Stupid. He hated to remind Gary of all the tragedy that had happened in the past year. It constantly let itself be known as it was.

Deep in thought and doodling on a piece of paper, Tracey almost missed seeing Pallet. The shift from blue to brown caught his eye, though, forcing him to look up. Beneath him stood the houses, untouched, standing as if they were waiting for their owners to come back from a long vacation. Though the nuclear activity would have been cleared out a while ago, the grass was still dead and all the trees gnarled and leafless. Tracey felt something thick clog his throat, and he thought that the tightness creeping into his eyes was going to spill over and onto his cheeks.

But then the plane flew over Professor Oak's lab. Tufts of grass grew here and there, and a young tree had begun to sprout. A Rattata scampered through some of the dead grass, on his way back out to the grasslands near Viridian. The tightness faded. Tracey found he could even smile, a little.

"In some ways, that's almost up-lifting," Gary remarked in a whisper. Tracey hadn't known he'd been watching as well. "A couple more years and it'll be just like it was. Except..."

'Except without everyone we knew,' the artist finished to himself.

"You're lucky you're an orphan," Gary told him after a moment. "You never have to worry about losing your family."

"Sure I do," Tracey replied. "What do you think you are?"

Gary grinned in spite of himself. "Hey, you're getting all touchy-feely on me. Save that for the girls in Pewter." He paused, eyes back to the window. Several minutes later, he said, "For what it's worth, I… think of you like a brother, too. So thanks, okay? For everything. This would have been a whole hell of a lot harder if you hadn't been around."

Tracey didn't know what to say to that, and he got the distinct feeling that Gary didn't want him to say anything. So he just turned his gaze back to his own window, setting his head against the pane and closing his eyes to the blur of scenery beneath him.

Not quite thirty minutes later, the plane landed at the tiny Pewter Airport. The pilot stuck his head behind the curtain separating him from his passengers. "Here we are. Hurry up, I've gotta get over to Celadon in a little while."

Tracey took the three stairs down in a couple strides, looking back. He watched Gary struggle somewhat with his crutch, but knew he couldn't ask to help and that Gary wouldn't ask for the help. The ex-pilot was just too damn proud.

In a few minutes, both were walking out the door of the dock building, carrying packs and breathing in the air of their homeland.

"So how d'you think Brock'll react when we show up at his front door?" Tracey wondered.

Gary grinned, already feeling better now that he was on Kanto soil. "Is a welcome home feast and a stripper asking too much?"

"Probably."

"Damn."

xxx

Misty looked out the window of her and Ash's hotel room, sighing forlornly. It had been nearly two weeks since she'd come to Pewter, and almost nothing had changed about her traveling companion. Ash had cooled down soon enough, and an unspoken truce seemed to ring between him and Brock, but there always seemed to be a wall between Ash and the others, especially the Harrison family. At this rate, he'd be running back to the Elite before the month was out.

"Hm?" Misty noticed a pair of male figures walking down the street. The duo were a little too far away for her to make out many characteristics, but one of them was definitely leaning on a crutch, walking with the swinging gait common to one with an injured leg. They paused for a moment, as if looking for something. The darker-haired one turned her way, and for a moment she could distinguish a few facial features. Her heart seemed to stop right in her chest. "Oh my God."

Misty raced for the door of the apartment, passing by the living room where Ash was watching TV. Pikachu perked up as she walked by, but Ash just asked in a bored tone, "Going out?"

"It's them!" Misty cried, poking her head around the door and positively glowing. "It's Gary and Tracey! They've come home!"

He jumped to his feet. "It's who? You have to be kidding."

"I know it! Ash, they're alive! Oh, thank God!" And she was gone again. In a moment he heard the door slam shut. With something between a groan and a chuckle, Ash followed after her, Pikachu chattering excitedly as they went.

xxx

"Have you ever been to Pewter?" Tracey asked.

"Once, like seven years ago," Gary answered. "We could ask for directions to the Pokemon Center, then go to Brock's from there... but, being a guy, I'm always wary about that kind of thing..."

Tracey's head shot up. "Hey, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"I thought someone just yelled our—" Tracey began, but got no farther when the same shout echoed behind them again, this time much louder and closer.

"Tracey! Gary! You're alive!"

Both turned around and were almost knocked over by an ecstatic woman. She wrapped her arms around their necks, squeezing them in a joint hug. "I can't believe it! I just can't believe that you're here in Pewter! Oh, and you're alive! You're safe and you're alive!"

By now Tracey had burst out laughing. "Misty, it's great to see you too."

Gary coughed, trying to pull away from the near-strangling hold. "I'd be a lot happier to see you if you'd stop trying to suffocate me."

"Eh? Oh, oops!" She released her grip, blushing but still glowing with a smile. "You just, you have no idea how worried I've been. Ash hadn't heard anything in so long, then we finally got those letters, but the last one was dated almost a month ago... I'm babbling, I know, but it's so nice to see both of you alive." She stood back, looking the two up and down. Both were thin and all muscle, with deep tans marred occasionally by lighter streaks of scar tissue, the most noticeable being the long line of wrinkled skin wrapping up Tracey's left arm from wrist to forearm. Her eyes stayed only a millisecond longer on Gary's leg, then flashed back up to both of their faces, all happiness and compliments. "You both look just wonderful! I'd forgotten how handsome you were – or maybe you picked that up overseas, too. I spotted you from my apartment window. At first I didn't even recognize you, you've changed so much, especially with those dark tans and your hair so short, but I knew for certain the minute I saw this." She plucked Tracey's headband teasingly. "Still insist on wearing this old thing, huh?"

He shrugged. "I like to think of it as a good luck charm."

"Aw. Don't I get a hug too?"

The trio all whirled to the newcomer's voice, Tracey with a surprised laugh bursting from his throat. "Ash! What a weird coincidence, meeting you guys here!"

"When you find out who else is here it'll be more than just a weird coincidence," he said. As Pikachu piped a pleasant greeting to Tracey, Ash turned to face Gary. Both looked the other one in the eye, keeping their faces even. "Gary."

"Ash."

The Champ's eyes traveled across his old rival before at last meeting his eyes again. "I was going to ask why you got released, but the answer seems to speak for itself, doesn't it?"

"Ash!" Misty hissed, connecting her elbow hard into his ribcage.

Gary's fists tightened, but all he said was, "We were looking for Brock's place. You know where it is?"

Misty nodded. "Yeah, I visit a lot. Ash likes to be a little more reclusive, but I drag him along when I can. If you want, I can take you there now." She turned to go, but hesitated at the last minute. "Um, the virus Quiana launched is sweeping through his house, though, so if you aren't immune…"

"Misty, I want you to understand something," Tracey said, swinging an arm around her shoulder. "Out in the boonies, we were subject to about everything you could think of. Malaria, flu, cholera—"

"—Pneumonia, food poisoning, scurvy of all things—" Gary continued.

"—Not to mention Quiana's patented killer," Tracey finished.

"We've looked death in the face, flipped it the bird and told it to get bent," Gary chuckled. "There's very little that'll scare us war heroes."

Misty shivered. "How awful. How'd you ever get through it?"

"A little TLC from Nurse Erika went a long way," Gary said with a wistful smile. "Not to mention they shipped in about every medicine you can imagine. Heaven forbid the soldiers die of something other than someone else killing them."

Ash snorted. "Not that anyone gives a rip about the people not fighting."

"Including you," Misty snapped. She was so sick of his attitude. She ignored the Champ and apologized several times to Tracey and Gary for him. "Ash's been like this ever since I met up with him. I don't know what the hell is wrong, but he'd better figure out that being a jerk won't help anything."

Tracey tried to change the subject. "Ash mentioned that some other people were here. Who is it? Anyone I know?"

"Yeah, I'd say you know them well enough." Misty grinned. "Let's just call it a surprise. We're almost there, anyway, and if I know them at all they're probably at Brock's right now."

xxx

"King me."

"Dammit, James, how'd you get so good at this game?" Brock groaned, flicking a checkers piece across the table in mock rage. He stared at his pile of two red pieces, and James' collection of black ones, sighing.

"Don't feel so bad. Not everyone is lucky enough to get beaten by me," James told him, a smile playing on his lips.

Jessie, in turn, grinned. It was amazing what a little socialization had done for her old partner. The family was so friendly, though, that it was almost impossible not to feel cheerier around them.

"Jess? Helloooo Jessie?" A hand waved in front of her face.

She snapped out of her private world, looking up at Celia. The younger woman laughed. "I can't teach you how to cook if you don't pay attention." She followed Jessie's gaze to where Brock and James were sitting. "Hm... But then again, man-watching has always been an interesting sport."

Jessie blushed. "Sorry. I'm trying to learn, but you know, some people just weren't meant to cook."

"Oh, anyone can do it. Now, being a gourmet chef like myself... that's a talent you have to be born with."

"Sort of a hereditary gene?"

"Exactly."

Both women smiled, thoroughly enjoying the quiet weekend evening. The peace came to an abrupt end, however, when Frita announced from her usual spot in the chair by the window, "Hey, we have some guests coming this way. Looks like Ash and Misty are bringing some friends... Whoa, one of them only has one leg."

The last remark caught everyone's attention.

"Hey, Frita, one wouldn't happen to be wearing a red headband, would he?" Brock asked.

"Uh, yeah, actually." She cocked her head, looking to Brock. "Do you know them?

His face broke into a grin.

"That's a yes," Gwen confirmed. She pushed Frita out of the way. "Aren't those the two who were fighting in the war?"

"War heroes?" Zach scrambled to the window. "We're getting overrun by celebrities!" He sucked in air. "Wow, the tall guy does only have one leg! Weird."

"Gary?" Brock asked, not really expecting the others to answer. He peered out the window, hissing out a surprised breath between his teeth. "You're right. I wonder what happened." He whirled on his siblings. "Don't say a word about it when he gets here, all right? I know you're curious, but we'll find out when we're meant to. Until then, no one's going to make him feel uncomfortable. You got that?"

"Yessir," they all replied in unison.

Jessie giggled. "He'll make a good father... or a drill sergeant."

Conversation was cut short as three sharp raps hit the door – Ash's knock. Brock got the door, though he didn't even have a chance to move backwards before Misty grabbed him in a hug. "They're back! Can you believe it?"

Brock looked over her head at the newcomers, flashing the pair a warm, easy smile. "We saw you coming up the stairs. Welcome back. We're a little cramped for space, but if you wanna come in for a while that's fine. Celia and Jessie are trying to cook dinner."

"Jessie?" Tracey asked. He shot Misty a look. "Is that your surprise?"

Misty nodded, letting go of Brock in the process. He shook hands heartily with Tracey and Gary, welcoming them inside and over into the living room. Three heads peeked over the top of the sofa at the new duo.

"Hi," Tracey greeted. "You must be Brock's brothers and sisters."

"Yeah, but we aren't allowed to talk to you 'cause we might make you feel uncomfortable," Zach explained.

Gwen rolled her eyes. "You'll have to excuse my brother. He's kind of an idiot." She stuck out a hand. "I'm Gwen, he's Zach, and that's Frita. Sorry about the board games, but we didn't know there'd be guests."

"That's fine. Sparkling clean houses always made me feel nervous," Tracey assured her, taking the hand. He glanced over as a long-legged man unfolded himself from behind the table. "Is… is that James Morgan?"

"One and the same," he said, striding over to them and shaking hands with the pair. "I trust the war was as horrible for you as it was for me."

"Probably," Tracey agreed. "It's good to be home."

Jessie waved a quick 'hello,' as did Celia.

"Make yourselves comfortable," Brock's younger sister said. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes." She pushed Jessie out of the kitchen. "I'll take it from here. We'll work on the cooking later."

Since Brock's parents were originally from Tenuto, they followed similar traditions to the culture, including sitting on the floor when eating – a custom that quickly proved problematic. The whole group tried to seat themselves around the table, but there just wasn't enough floor space. Brock's siblings ended up having to sit on the couch with their bowls in their laps. Gary, meanwhile, struggled to slide himself to the floor, and wound up smacking the table with his crutch in the process. He flushed and muttered an apology, avoiding the Harrison family's eyes even as they all assured him that it was fine. Tracey bit his lip and stared at the table. After a moment, though, everyone settled down, and the previous awkwardness vanished as Celia brought out dinner.

Gary and Tracey bit into the food with a will. After a few moments, Gary said decisively: "I can honestly say this is the best meal I've had in almost five years."

Tracey nodded. "Probably the only full meal, too."

"I take it they didn't feed you too well out there," Celia said.

Gary snorted. "That's an understatement. Out in the boonies - that's what everyone called the war grounds – it took so long to get the food out to the camps that everything was either stale or heading that direction by the time it hit our plate."

"Undercooked, too, at least until that E Coli epidemic," Tracey put in. "It was major hell. I don't think I was really meant for it. Gary had some fun, though."

Gary smirked, enjoying a bit of bragging. "Seven medals and a Crimson Band. Not too shabby, huh?" He jerked a thumb at his friend. "Trace didn't do so bad himself. Got three beauties to bring home."

"Three on ribbons and three on my face," Tracey remarked, running his index finger over a short, thin scar slashing across the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, but you know how much girls like that sort of rugged handsomeness," Jessie reminded them.

Brock rubbed his chin, pretending to think hard. "Maybe I oughta enlist."

"Oh, you're good looking enough right now," Misty told him. For a split second, Brock thought she might be flirting, but hurriedly brushed it off as a friendly compliment. "Actually, I'm sort of surprised you don't have a girlfriend, Brock."

He shrugged. "I'm pretty busy, and there aren't that many girls around my age left in town."

James smiled slightly. "A young woman near Ash's age works down at Carter's. She seemed eager for male companionship."

"Tara would sleep with a Muk if it had the right parts," Brock retorted. He seemed to remember just who was in the room and shot a quick look back at Frita, Gwen and Zach. "By the way, that's a very rude thing to say and I don't ever wanna hear you saying it."

"Yessir!" they said again, saluting smartly.

Ash laughed in spite of himself. "Since it looks like it's my turn to ask a question, what do you plan on doing now that you're back in Kanto?"

"We never really thought that far," Gary admitted. "We're good on money, so there's no reason to leave for a while. Maybe if I get bored I'll swing over to Celadon, see Erika's friends and tell them she's okay."

"Do you have a room for the night?" Brock asked, ready to offer his home as a place to stay.

"We were planning on dumping ourselves off here," Tracey said, "but you're packed enough as it is. Like Gar' said, we have some money, so we'll probably just rent an apartment."

Misty smiled. "Then you'll probably be living near Ash and me for a while. That's good - sometimes I don't like walking halfway across town for a little company." Her smile dropped. "Ash hardly ever talks to me, so he doesn't really count. Still, he's better than nothing. Being in that room alone would give me the creeps."

"You get lonely a lot, Mist?" Tracey asked.

She rubbed her wrists together. "I don't like being by myself. It's something..." She yawned, ending the train of conversation. "Mm, another perfect meal, Celia."

"Yeah, that was wonderful," Tracey agreed, setting his teacup down.

Celia blushed, all modesty. "Don't give me all the credit. Brock made the tea and Jessie helped with the main course." She reached out to take the cup from Tracey. He picked it up, to give over, and for a moment their hands touched. They smiled at one another for a second, then Tracey let go and Celia stood up to take care of the dishes.

"Well, whoever made it, thanks," Misty said, oblivious to the sparks of electricity that had just passed on her right. "But you know, the excitement and the good meal have really worn me down. I think I'll head back home."

She looked at Ash almost expectantly and he nodded, standing to follow her. "I'll come, too."

A few seconds later, Tracey also got up. "I'd hate to wear out my welcome. Besides, we need someone to show us the way." He offered Gary a hand. The ex-pilot ignored it, using the couch to push himself to his feet.

"Thanks for the hospitality. I got half of my welcome home wish: a full meal," Gary said.

"What was the other half?" Frita wanted to know.

"Something kids don't need to hear," he replied, stretching. "Lead the way, Trace."

"We ought to go, too," Jessie said as James courteously helped her up.

Brock accompanied them to the door while the three children cleared the table and Celia took a much-needed break from housework.

"You're welcome to come back over whenever you want," Brock invited, always polite. "I work wall duty for on most weekdays, but Celia and the others love having people over."

"We'll probably take tomorrow to unpack, but it's nice to know we've got friends nearby," Tracey said.

As the group turned to go their separate ways, Brock called out down the stairs to Gary, "Out of curiosity, what was the other half of your welcome home wish?"

Gary's smirk was just visible in the moonlight. "A job this Tara girl would have been great at. You think you can hire her to jump out of a cake?"

Brock's laughter rang through the night air.

xxx

"Here we are," Ash announced, stopping in front of his and Misty's apartment. "Carter said yours was right above ours." He looked straight at Gary when he said, "The stairs are pretty steep – think you can handle it?"

Gary's jaw tightened, but Tracey put a hand on his shoulder and gently steered him to the staircase. The artist managed to give the League Champ a look of pure disgust before disappearing up to their own apartment.

Misty whirled on Ash and even Pikachu growled disapprovingly, but both stopped when they saw him staring up at the staircase, his eyes narrowed and a soft frown twitching at his lips. "How does he do it?" he asked, more to himself than to her. "He lost his family and his leg in a single year, but… but he just keeps going, living life as normally as he can. How is that even possible?"

"Because Gary's learned something that you haven't," Misty said quietly. "It's like waves."

"Like waves?"

"Crests," she said, raising her arm, "and troughs," she finished, dipping it down again. "Repeating themselves again and again. Only it's a lot easier to fall off the crest than it is to get out of the trough. But, even so…" She frowned, turning her eyes to the star-streaked sky. "Knowing that there is another crest there, and struggling towards it with everything you've got… that's the important part, I think. Because, no matter how dark things get, if you just keep chasing after that tiny speck of light… then, surely…"

"Then, surely…?"

She shrugged. "Well. We all have to finish that one on our own, I guess."

She unlocked the door and walked in, Ash following just a silent, pensive step behind her.

xxx

Tracey woke up in a cold sweat, breathing hard and glancing around slowly. It was that dream again. The one he'd been having for years. It always started with him watching a burning building. He tried to rush inside, to help someone, but a pair of adult arms held him back. He cried out, struggling with all his might, but he was too small to get away from the man's hold. The walls collapsed, and he let out another scream before waking up.

Even now, he hated that dream. He'd been told his parents were killed in a fire when he was only about three, so he assumed that's what the nightmare was all about. Tonight, though, there was something different about it. Someone else had been inside that building... if he could only figure out who...

"Had the dream again?"

Tracey's head snapped to the side, surprised to find Gary awake in his own sleeping bag. He lay stretched out on his stomach, a flashlight in one hand and an open book splayed out in front of him. "Y-yeah," the artist admitted. "What's wrong? Can't sleep?"

"If I could would I be awake?"

Tracey leaned over, peering at the book open in front of his friend. "What's that?" Gary didn't need to answer. Tracey could see it was a photo album: a family scrapbook that Gary had taken with him when he'd left for the war. It was turned to a group shot, one that had been taken right before Gary and Ash had set off to the Indigo League, all those years ago. Brock, Misty and Tracey crowded in around the edges, all smiles and "victory" signs. Professor Oak, Mrs. Ketchum, and Gary's mother, father and sister filled up the rest of the frame, grinning like the others. In the middle stood Ash and Gary, for once getting along, faces glowing with hope.

"That was about the only time we were all ever on good terms with each other," Gary muttered. "That, and after Ash gave me the royal ass-whooping on Indigo." He paused. "What's his problem, anyway? I know I used to be kind of an ass, but that was years ago..."

"Is this about what he said earlier?" Tracey asked. "About, well… all that?" He never could bring himself to mention Gary's disability.

He nodded. "I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but since we were gonna be something like relatives..."

"Professor Oak and Mrs. Ketchum," Tracey said needlessly.

"They were gonna get married when I got back. Only..." Tracey hoped he hadn't caught what sounded like a choked sob. Gary snapped the album shut. "Well, no use getting stuck on 'what if's, right? I just realized how tired I am, so, I'll hit the sack. Try getting back to sleep, all right?"

"Okay," he agreed, crawling over to his own bag. He lay down and closed his eyes, but Tracey didn't fall asleep for quite some time. Because he now knew just whose voice he had heard inside that building.

xxx

Ash was jostled roughly awake. Looking up, he stared into a pair of impatient blue eyes. "Will you wake up?" Misty snapped. "It's nearly ten-thirty. I've never seen anyone as lazy as you are."

Ash shoved her off the couch that served as his bed. "What's so damn important that you had to wake me up?"

"We're going to help Gary and Tracey get settled. That apartment they got didn't have furniture like ours did, so we're going to loan them a couch and a few other things. Tracey's busy unpacking, and obviously Gary can't help me carry stuff up, so that leaves you."

He sighed, standing up and throwing on some clothes. Pikachu yawned from his perch at the top of the pillow, but Ash just waved him back to sleep. "There's no reason for you to get your morning ruined, too," he said, shooting an irritated glance at Misty. After a quick meal, he stood and walked reluctantly upstairs with her, everything in his posture practically screaming hostility.

Gary met them at the door. "Hey, come on in. Tracey's shoving the bit of furniture we got around." He laughed a little. "Sometimes I wonder about him. Is it possible for guys to like decorating?"

"I heard that!" Tracey called from down the hall.

Gary shrugged. "Maybe it's an artsy thing. At any rate, feel free to give some tips." He tossed a hand in a feminine gesture, saying in a girlish falsetto, "But, like, totally don't dirty up the good carpet."

A Pokeball flew out of nowhere and hit Gary in the head. "To the moon, Alice!" Tracey cried, trotting down the hall and greeting their guests. "You think one of you guys can help me get the bed against the wall? The Carter guy who owns this place must be an idiot - he didn't even put the stupid bed in the bedroom!"

Misty leant Tracey a hand, and they went down the hall and disappeared into an adjoining room. Gary started back to the living room, Ash on his heel. "I'm just clearing out our bags," Gary explained, easing himself down to the floor with Tracey's backpack in front of him. "You'd be amazed at the kind of ancient things I find. If you wanna help, just pick a bag and go nuts."

Ash moved over to a blue duffel. The Champ unzipped it and opened it wide, blinking at what looked like at least three hundred Pokeballs crammed together, all in miniature form.

"These yours?" Ash asked.

"Guess so. They were all sent to me after Pallet got destroyed." It was the nicest way to put it. "I never had a chance to sort 'em out or anything, so I just kept them in there."

Ash picked up a couple, remarking lightly, "Some trainer you are. They aren't even marked – I can't tell what's in any of them."

"Well it's a little hard to find time to label Pokeballs when you're, you know, trying not to get turned into a human firework," Gary retorted. "The only one that'll have anything on it is my Umbreon." A little of the hostility in his voice slipped away at the name. "Man, I haven't seen her in ages. Be nice to see how she's holding up."

Ash tossed one ball over. "Says 'Eevee' on the side. I'm guessing that's the right one."

Without any particular flourish as he would have done when younger, Gary popped open the Pokeball. An Umbreon, looking healthy but a little raggedy, came out, shaking her head and looking around. Upon spotting Gary, she gave a small squeal and trotted up to him. Gary smiled, rubbing his hand behind one of her long ears. "Hey girl, ya miss me?" He frowned, eyes trailing to the collar around her neck and the papers tucked beneath it. "What're these?" He pulled them out, reading down one and raising an eyebrow in a silent question. He flipped it over to another paper, face darkening as he went. He seemed to look it over several times, then folded it up slowly.

"Well, what is it?" Ash asked, curiosity overtaking his coldness.

"A letter," he managed to get out. "From..."

Ash snatched the paper out of Gary's willing hands. The war veteran made no attempt to take it back from him, but just stared at the carpet blankly. Ash read:

Dear Gary,
It grieves me to say that your parents have just passed on, not five minutes from each other, and I fear that I am next. There is too much to say, and I can feel my mind falling, slipping from this world into the next. I still my trembling hands and continue with what remains. It will have to suffice.

I've enclosed my will with this. It entitles you to everything. This is not entirely what I wanted, but there is so little time. I trust that you will divide a quarter of its contents between Ash and Tracey, for whom I wish nothing but the very best. As you will see upon inspection of the will, this small loss on your part will be an enormous gift to them. You are a very rich man, and if you make it out of the war I only ask that you use your wealth wisely. I believe that you will. No – I know that you will, because you have always been such an intelligent young man, and so resourceful. Kind, too, more than you would ever admit, and more than perhaps you even realize. Allow that kindness to be your strength. It will last you far longer than any weapon ever could.

And if that kindness falters, then remember your parents, who died without pain, peaceful in the knowledge that their son still lived, still fought, still loved as fiercely as he had when he first came into this world, climbing towards a future filled with limitless hope. And remember that hope, which allows you always to move forward, always to climb towards that unknown tomorrow, always to find a day where you may laugh once more, though tears of grief strangle you now.

And, if a day comes when even hope wavers, then I ask you, perhaps selfishly, to remember the love of an old man, who saw you as a light so bright it was nearly blinding.

You are my pride. You are my hope. Wherever I go, whatever I become, that is the one truth that will never waver.

I pray for nothing but your happiness.

Love Always,
Grandpa'

Slowly Gary reached over and took it away from Ash, who didn't resist. "Even in the very end... he was only thinking about me."

Ash grabbed the will, skimming it quickly. He whistled. "Five mill. Damn. If you're smart with it, you'll never have to work a day."

"Is that all that matters to you?" Gary wondered blandly, as if he were just waking from a dream.

"Hey, if you don't want it, I wouldn't mind taking it off your hands," Ash told him, running a finger along the edge of the will. "You'd have to be crazy to give it up, though… Well, at least one-eighth of it is mine, so…"

"Jus take the damn money if that's all you care about. It's yours," Gary said in one of the coldest voices Ash had ever heard. "I suppose the man who would have been your stepfather would like to see you happy."

"Oh. That." Ash spat the word. "I never did like it. The age difference was insane."

"They loved each other!" Gary snapped, jerking his head to look the League Champ in the eyes. "And now they're gone forever and the only thing you seem to want is some damn inheritance!"

Ash ignored him, still staring at the paper in his hands. "And, being related to you, no matter how distantly, always made me a little sick to my stomach."

"Related to me? I—" Gary stopped short, though it looked like it took every ounce of self control he had to do it. He took a breath, though it did little to ease the tension in his form. "You know what? No. I'm not going to waste my breath on this juvenile bullshit." Gary struggled to his feet, crutch pounding out an enraged rhythm against the floor as he made for the front door. "I'm leaving before I do something I wouldn't be proud of."

Ash watched through half-closed lids as Gary barreled past the puzzled Misty and Tracey. His voice drawled out in a sarcastic taunt. "Is this still about how I humiliated you on Indigo?"

"Oh, fuck off!" Gary bellowed back down the hallway, slamming the door in his wake.

The echo of the door filled the tiny apartment. Tracey and Misty glanced first at each other, then back to the doorway. Misty felt like her whole body was going to snap with rage. "That little…" she spluttered.

Tracey didn't say anything to her. He stalked into the living room with a purpose, jaw set, neck splotched red, and fists tightened into violent balls at his sides. Anger swallowed by curiosity – she couldn't remember ever seeing him this upset before – Misty followed.

Ash stood slowly as the pair entered the living room, eyes still half-closed in apathy, hands in pockets, body relaxed. 'Here it comes,' he thought to himself, and even managed an eye roll when Tracey stormed up to him. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I've been a very bad boy," Ash said dryly. "Want me to go stand in the corner?"

Without even a hint of warning Tracey swung out, fist connecting solidly with Ash's cheekbone. It was so hard and unexpected that Ash felt his whole neck snap backwards. He hissed out a curse, pressing a hand to his face as he slowly turned back to the young artist, staring at him from under his bangs.

Tracey was not what anyone would call a tall man. After a short growth spurt in his early teens, Tracey had barely added more than half an inch to his height. With his eyes just level with Ash's chin, he hardly looked a match for the lanky League Champ. But standing there, literally quivering with rage, his military-born muscles tense against his skin and aching for violence, Ash felt a pang of fear race through him.

"Don't," Tracey said slowly, grinding out his words through gritted teeth, "think for a second that that was from Gary. I know damn well it wouldn't mean anything that way." He swallowed hard, forcing the fists at his sides to relax, though just barely. "It was from your mom. You bastard." He stormed out before Ash had a chance to retaliate, though the slackness of his body suggested that he hadn't intended to in the first place.

"About time someone did that," Misty said with a thin smile from the doorway. "Maybe it'll knock some sense into your thick skull." And she, too, turned and left.

Ash slumped down into the single chair in the room, rubbing faintly at his sore cheek, already swelling from the blow. Something between a distressed frown and a bemused smile hovered on his face, though even he wasn't exactly sure which one he wanted to wear the most. "From my mom… huh…?" he murmured into the empty stillness.

7/9/08

On Characters (Or, "Fanfiction Authors: Overanalyzing Since 1967!")
This fic was a fun experience for me, because it was the first (and oddly enough, only) time that I'd ever taken a serious look at the personalities of the PokeCast outside of Team Rocket, and possibly Brock. Instead of just poking fun at the overall silliness of the characters like I did in my comedies, I actually had to look at what I The Viewer knew about the personalities of the cast, and then work with that as best as I could. And I have to say, doing all of that wound up being a blast. Thanks to the writing of this fanfic, I became not only a Gary fan, but also a Tracey fan, two things I really hadn't been before. I even gained a sort of grudging sympathy for Ash. I guess being able to "peek into their heads" made them a lot more likeable for me.

This fic was also an experiment, in its own little way, a question that I asked myself: throw these people into a darker version of their world, speckle their lives with hardships, and who do they become? I won't say that my portrayals are perfect, but they're what Seventh-Grade Me came up with, and I'm still attached to them in a nostalgic sort of way. Why else would Alex the Muse have prodded me in the back of the head and gotten me to do this edit?

Each of these characters developed their own unique histories, which then shaped their personalities. And while most of the major events do at least get mentioned in 2k5, a lot of the details really don't. Again, that was my own fault: I fleshed them out as I went, intending to write a series of prequel stories, and just never got around to finishing them. I think a tiny part of me still wants me to, though, which is why I'm going to go ahead and attach Character Profiles to the rest of the chapters, to help touch up on the omitted details. And don't worry – these will be Spoiler Free Zones. Anything that shows up in the profiles has either already been mentioned in the fic, or will never be mentioned in the fic. So no need to clap your hands over your eyes and start madly clicking the window closed.

So let's get the ball rolling! And who better to start with then…

Ash Ketchum

The Basics
-He's eighteen years old.
-His appearance has changed probably the most out of everyone, for obvious reasons. He's a lot taller (about 5'10"), and lanky because he's still sort of in that "awkward growth spurt" phrase. His hair is cropped a bit shorter, especially the bangs, which he sweeps back and up a little bit.
-He won the Indigo League when he was twelve years old, making him the youngest to ever become League Champion. This makes him the leader of the Elite, the most highly-revered trainer in the Pokemon League, and – like any prominent athlete or entertainer – a person whose good opinion is widely sought after by people in every sphere of society.

Wartime History
-Shortly after he won the League, the world war escalated and finally exploded. The Kanto President sought his support in their entering the war to aid their allies. The Elite, who were strict pacifists, strongly opposed any war efforts on the president's part, but Ash decided that Kanto should prepare itself for war but not actually enter the war itself until another nation showed open hostility towards them. All the Elite but Agatha scorned this decision, and it really hurt Ash's confidence.
-Ash traveled around Kanto for the majority of the war, trying to help with rebuilding efforts in places that were damaged by terrorist attacks or air-bombings. During that time he saw a lot of death and destruction, as well as a lot of people who were very resentful towards the Elite's "hands-off" attitude regarding the war. Sometimes they took that anger out on him.
-After Pallet was destroyed, he cut off all communication with everyone but the Elite, and ordered them all to remain in the mountain retreat. He wandered restlessly and bitterly for about a year, taking care of legal issues regarding his mother's death, then decided to join his companions in the mountains. That's where we meet him.

Relationships
-Ash used to revere Lance as a hero, but now looks on him more like an older brother figure. He has a deep respect for all of the Elite and thinks of them as his remaining "family," despite their sometimes patronizing attitudes towards him.
-He remained very close with his mother despite the fact that he didn't approve of her engagement to Samuel Oak. Her optimism regarding the final outcome of the war and the nature of human beings in general was always a big help to him, especially when he ran into some of the horrors going on in the rest of Kanto. On her deathbed, she at last told him the true identity of his father. Ash has shared this information with no one… and the author will respect his silence.
-He and Brock got into a pretty nasty fight about the Elite's passivity shortly after Pewter was attacked (Pewter's Lament, one of the few prequel stories I finished, talks about this). They eventually made up, but their friendship was always a little chillier after that.
-Misty and Ash saw each other off and on until Pallet's destruction one year ago. They were constantly going back and forth between being almost-a-couple and almost-sworn-enemies. This may have also had something to do with the fact that Ash discovered girls when he was fourteen, and wasn't ashamed to flirt with them.
-Ash used to reply to Tracey's letters, but that also trailed off shortly after Pallet's destruction.

General Personality Ramblings
I am admittedly not an Ash fan, so sometimes it's easy to attribute my sometimes-negative portrayal of him in 2k5 to my own dislike. Though I'm sure that did have something to do with it, I also didn't really like Gary or Tracey going into this thing, and they ended up as my two favorites, so it's hard to say for sure. What I do know is that Ash always struck me as the sort of kid who was very skilled and perceptive with Pokemon but rather oblivious when it came to other human beings. I think that overall awkwardness, coupled with the war, turned him into the sometimes-bitter, sometimes-clumsily sympathetic teenager who appears in 2k5.

And, even though I still don't really like him all that much, I have to say that I feel compassion for him. He had to go through a lot of hardships at a very young age, and he did it essentially without the support of his Elite "family," who were so violently opposed to the war that they did very little even in the peacekeeping efforts. I think their disapproval really dealt his confidence a blow, and he had to make up for that by being overly arrogant the rest of the time. Also, like Misty and Gary, Ash has had less time to deal with his personal tragedies than some of the other characters (Jess and James were, after all, separated almost five years ago), so I think he comes across as "weaker" because of that. He's still working through his trials, and still trying to become an adult. It's a difficult time for him. Let's hope that, with a little support from his friends, he can make it through okay. I hope everyone can feel a little sympathy for him, even through his most infuriating moments, and cheer him on towards making the right decisions about the war!

Well, that seems like a good place to stop. I think I'll do Brock's profile in the next chapter. Lots of good back story in that one! Hope you look forward to it!

'Till Next Time!—Dee ;)