Disclaimer: I don't own the Pokemon Universe, otherwise you'd have seen some uncut, subtitled episodes in the US by now (Remember, folks: 4Kids hates both Japan and happiness). The story is mine, as are the couple of original characters.

Rating: PG-13, for language and violence.

Chapter Four: The Decision
Tracey and Gary both cooled down soon enough, and yet another unspoken apology was uttered on Ash's part, but the atmosphere continued to remain cold around him. Ash, for what it was worth, did try to be a bit nicer to everyone, particularly Brock and Tracey, and even though he still greeted Gary with ice he refrained from making any more comments about his old rival's injury. Still, nearly a full month had passed, and Ash never once mentioned going to the Elite's mountain hideaway. Misty wondered how in the world she was ever going to convince the League Champ to get the Elite involved in the war.

Another Saturday afternoon rolled around, and for once the October air was unusually warm. Everyone, gathered at Brock's home, decided to take their party outside and enjoy one of the few pleasant days they had left before another Kanto winter blew in. Brock's apartment had a spacious deck, perfect for outdoor activities, so this was where they had set up their new grounds. A table sat in the middle, with several different games piled next to it. Brock flipped some burgers on the grill, enjoying the autumn weather. Gary and Misty stretched out in lawn chairs, watching Tracey and James battle it out in a chess game. Ash balanced on the deck's railing, eyes half-closed, soaking in the sunlight. Jessie and Celia watched from a kitchen window, finishing up a salad for lunch. Brock's three other siblings were down in the yard below, playing a pickup basketball game on the apartment complex's homemade half-court.

"Checkmate," Tracey said with a grin, sliding his remaining rook into place.

James blinked a few times. "Impossible." He studied the move from all angles. After a moment, he sighed, shaking his head and smiling. "You're the first person to beat me in years. Congratulations." His eyes flashed a fire of competitiveness. "Care for another round?"

Brock, Misty and Gary chuckled, heckling James and thanking Tracey several times for proving that the assassin was human.

"I've never seen anyone win that many games in a row," Gary said. "Nice to see the streak broken."

James shrugged. "An upset is always due." His eyes narrowed into a challenge. "Now, let's see you do that twice."

"With pleasure," Tracey agreed with a smirk. "I should warn you, though: I've had a lot of practice."

James returned the smile with one of his own. "Likewise."

Celia gazed out the window, smiling a little. Jessie poked her in the shoulder. "You've been cleaning that lettuce off for about two minutes. Any longer and you'll wash the taste away, too."

The young cook snapped back to her own world. "Oh, sorry about that, Jess. How are you doing?"

"Pretty good," Jessie said, gesturing to the pile of sliced vegetables. "Cutting is about the only thing I don't screw up."

Celia started to peel the lettuce off into the salad bowl. Her eyes looked to both sides to make sure none of the others were around, then she leaned in and hissed to her newest friend and confidante, "Tracey's… sort of cute, don't you think?"

Jessie snickered. "Now who's man-watching?"

"Hey, I can look, can't I?" she justified, blushing brightly and reminding Jessie of a younger, female Brock. "So… like I was saying…"

"Hey ladies, plan on sharing the juicy bit of gossip with us?" Brock called.

Both young women jerked their heads up, Celia with the flush only spreading further across her cheeks. She managed to cover her embarrassment with a wave of her hand, saying airily, "Oh, we were just trying to decide which one of you boys is the most attractive."

"Oh?" Brock raised an eyebrow. "And who's winning?"

"Well," Celia shot a knowing smirk at Jessie, "we're still debating on Number One." She turned her eyes back to her brother, hands on hips and lips parted in a teasing grin. "But you're not in either of our Top Three, so just go back to your burgers, Mister Ugly, and leave us girls to our gossip."

Brock shot his friends on the deck a look of feigned injury. "Women can be so cruel."

Misty opened her mouth to say something, but Gary broke in before she could begin, fluttering his eyelashes teasingly. "Aw, cheer up, Brock – you'll always be in my Top Three." He set his hands to his cheeks, looking upwards and saying with an exaggerated sigh, "Tenutan guys are soooo dreamy."

Everyone laughed, and Celia looked to Jessie, wiping her forehead in mock relief. During the ensuing heckles that filled the deck, no one noticed when Brock glanced at Misty, an eyebrow raised as if to ask what she'd been about to say. She smiled and pointed at him, giving him a thumps-up and mouthing 'Top Three.' He grinned back and pointed first at himself, then held up his index finger, mouthing back, 'Number one?' She pressed a finger to her lips – apparently it was a secret. His lower lip jutted out in mock sadness, and she rolled her eyes and called out over Gary's sudden debate on how to rate the girls – and Jessie's taunting call that she wouldn't trust any of their perverted judgments anyway – "Well, the burgers smell about finished. How's the salad coming? I'm starving."

Celia and Jessie glanced down at their tossed salad, surprised to find that they'd finished during the argument. "All done in here." Together they grabbed some dressings and condiments for the food. Jessie wiped the chess board off the little table, plunking the food down.

"We were in the middle of a game," James remarked with a hint of annoyance.

Jessie smiled. "Your point being...?"

He tried to act irritated, but couldn't do it. Sighing and chuckling, he took a cup of lemonade from Celia.

"Sorry about that, Trace," Celia apologized. "You weren't too far into it, were you?"

"Uh, no, we'd just started," Tracey assured her. "Don't worry about it."

She smiled, handing the artist a glass of lemonade. She hovered at the table for another half second, then went on to pass drinks out to the others. Gary smirked, elbowing Tracey in the ribs.

'What?' Tracey mouthed. Gary only winked, leaning back and thanking Celia for the drink. Tracey shook his head and turned his attention to the salad bowl.

After Brock had dumped the burgers onto some paper plates and passed those out too, the group set to the food with a will. Frita, Gwen and Zach joined them halfway through the meal, complaining about not being invited up.

"How was the game?" Celia asked.

"Didn't go too well. Uneven teams. The girls ganged up on me," Zach explained, piling some food on to his plate. "Too bad we didn't have someone else down there." He looked around at the crowded deck. "We'll eat down by the court. It's almost too hot to be out in the sun right now, especially after the game." The three children thanked the cooks, then trotted down the steps.

At the mention of another person, Celia and Brock exchanged glances. Amid the excitement of the good weather and high spirits, they'd nearly forgotten about Kris.

"I'll be back," Brock said, grabbing a plate of food and disappearing into the house.

Celia bit her lip, swallowed hard.

"How is he?" Misty asked after a moment's silence.

"I wouldn't know. Brock's the only one who can see him, since he's already had the virus... But, according to him, Kris isn't too good. I've seen it happen so many times. It's been nearly four months, and that usually means..." She choked on the rest of the sentence. Tracey, the closest to her, instinctively pressed a comforting hand to her shoulder; to his surprise she reached up with her hand and took his fingers, squeezing them between hers for a short moment before dropping them again. Forcing a smile, Celia looked up, swallowing and blinking back a hint of tears. "But we stay hopeful. After all, there's always a chance he'll get better, or that we might get a shipment of medicine in, and we're going to hang on to that."

"Why?" Ash asked. "Why hang on to something that's so close to impossible?"

"Because if you don't keep hope alive," Celia said, trying another weak smile, "then what's the point in living?"

Ash stared at the ground, eyebrows knitted together. "Is that so?" he muttered to nobody.

xxx

"We'll be leaving today," James said one Sunday morning at the beginning of November. It was something he said every day, not really meaning it.

"No," Jessie always answered. Today, as with every day, she followed it with a reason. "I'm finally learning how to do something other than boil water."

James shrugged. "If that's what you want." Secretly he was glad to stay in the city. There was something in this place that seemed to always put him in a good mood. Still, Midnight's warning back at the bar had worried him a little, and he kept an eye open for anything unusual. James had never failed a job since he'd become a bounty hunter, and he certainly wasn't going to break that streak now. That's what he told himself, anyway. More and more, though, he was beginning to wonder if there wasn't something a little more to it… something that had less to do with his work and more to do with the person he was working for, whose "death" had so nearly killed him the first time...

"Any idea what today is?" Jessie asked suddenly, smiling a little.

He jerked back to reality smoothly, revealing none of his thoughts as he answered, "November third..." He nodded. "Ah. It's been a month since we came to Pewter. Am I right?"

She nodded. "I love this city. I really do. I'm happy here, which I haven't really been able to say and mean in a long time. And I never thought I'd be saying this, but… I'm happy being with them, too. Those 'twerps' that I used to hate so much... I think they're the closest friends I've had in years."

"I couldn't agree with you more."

Jessie glanced over. James was smiling again. It was a habit he seemed to have adopted in the last couple weeks, and it never failed to make her smile as well. When she'd first met him, she had been so sure he was nothing but a husk of the old James, too far gone for even her to reach, but every day he looked a little more alive, more like his old self – more mature, maybe, like they all were, but cheerful, and kind, and perhaps a little bit innocent, too. That aloofness and apathy he'd held himself up with earlier was dropping faster and faster with each passing day. She loved it.

"Wanna pay Brock a visit?" Jessie asked.

James nodded. "He's expecting us, I'm sure."

"Think they're getting sick of us yet?" she wondered suddenly, not wanting to wear out her welcome at the Harrison household.

"Judging by the way they're constantly inviting us over, I'd say we haven't become a nuisance yet." He grinned once more. "Zach still reveres me as something of a god, you know."

She rolled her eyes. "Try not to shatter the image too quickly, will you?"

He laughed just a bit, something Jessie loved hearing. It was getting easier for him to do all the time. There was a compassionate human behind the bounty hunter, and Jessie was going to bring it out even if it took her whole life.

'But at this rate,' she thought happily, 'it won't even take a year.'

xxx

Jessie knocked once, then let herself in. The door was usually unlocked, since Pewter was nearly crime-free these days. The minute she stepped over the doormat she felt a change in the atmosphere. Frita lay curled up in her usual chair, a book hanging over the armrest, but her eyes were fixed on the door leading to Kris' room. Gwen and Zach sat on the couch, arms hanging off drearily. Jessie thought she caught a sniffle in that area. Celia, too, seemed to be in the same daze; she wiped down the kitchen counter again and again, shooting glances at the same door Frita watched. They managed to look up when the duo came in, giving a weak hello and falling back into the original mood.

"Kris?" Jessie asked, knowing the answer.

Celia nodded, barely keeping herself composed. "He took a turn for the worst yesterday evening. Brock's been with him all night. You know when the fever hits one-oh-five that it won't be much longer—"

Kris' room door slowly creaked open. A haggard Brock walked out, closing it quietly behind him. He looked exhausted, but the predominant emotion was a pained look of sorrow, almost failure.

"Is he—?" Frita began, cutting herself off with a choked sob.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, managing the weakest of nods. Celia's hand flew to her mouth. She ran to her older brother, shrinking into a child again as she buried her head in his shirt, sobbing uncontrollably. The others soon followed, crying and clinging to their older siblings for comfort.

"He went peacefully," Brock assured them. "In his sleep without a sound."

Jessie and James didn't know what to do. Feeling out of place, they slid out the door and shut it noiselessly behind them. Once outside, Jessie leaned against the wall, looking up at the cloud-dappled sky. "Why does this keep happening to them? Haven't they been through enough?"

"Maybe this is the end of it," James mused, though without much hope. "Perhaps no one else will catch it."

Jessie rubbed her temples. "I hope so, James. Oh, God, I really hope so."

xxx

"Ash," Misty murmured as the two walked down the street to the Harrison home. "I'm really starting to worry about Brock."

"You were 'really starting to worry about him' a week ago," Ash grumbled.

"It's worse now, though," she said, hugging her arms to her chest. "It's been over three weeks since the funeral, and the whole house still just feels awful. Everyone walks around like zombies, like… like they're too exhausted to try… or maybe like they just don't see the point anymore. Even Brock, who was so good about keeping everyone up before… I mean, he even forgot about his birthday, Ash! If I hadn't reminded him – and even then, when I suggested we have a little celebration, try to be happy for a while, he just sort of shrugged and went back to pretending like he was reading some book. It's just too sad…" She squeezed her arms tighter, shaking her head slowly. "It was never like this before. Brock used to write me, and I know it wasn't like this before…"

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Ash growled. "I don't have a magic wand. And besides, I don't see the problem with how they're acting. It's sad when people die."

Misty shook her head again. "There's something wrong about this, though. It's like it's killing the whole family, a little bit at a time. I know 'not healthy,' and this is what it looks like. So…" She pressed her lips together and nodded sharply. "So we've got to work extra hard to cheer them up today, all right? I know Jess and James, and Gary and Tracey – I know they've been trying, too, but maybe we just aren't trying hard enough. Maybe we've got to… I don't know, but…"

Ash sighed and rapped three times on the door before going in. Misty forced a smile and followed him, though she felt it slipping as soon as she glanced around the family room. Celia and Frita half-heartedly bent over books, Gwen doodling circles on a piece of paper, Zach with his eyes staring unseeing at the humming television… Misty felt her heart do a little wrench when Brock, stirring lunch in the kitchen, glanced up at them with that same exhausted expression he'd had for the last few weeks. She got a hint of a smile out of one side of his mouth – she seemed to be the only one who could – but it promptly disappeared when he turned his attention back to the meal. "Hi," he murmured. "Haven't seen you in a couple days. What's, um… been up?"

Misty grabbed the weak lifeline and launched into a story about visiting a local restaurant with Gary and Tracey, and Gary's horror at finding nothing but middle-aged men and women serving in the place. It really wasn't all that funny, but she played it up and laughed anyway, eyes darting from family member to family member. They seemed as quiet as ever, and again she couldn't get anything but the barest hint of a smile out of Brock – and even that only when he happened to look at her. Eventually she trailed off into silence, discouraged, angry at Ash for being no help at all and angrier at herself for being just as useless.

Unbeknownst to Misty's down-turned eyes, Celia watched the young woman with a thoughtful frown. After a few seconds of silence, she took a breath and looked to her siblings. "You know," she said, irritation thick in her voice, "I bet Kris is pretty mad at us right now."

Frita's head jerked up. "What makes you say that?"

"He hated it when people got upset over him," she said. "Remember when he broke his ankle playing baseball? He was so annoyed at the rest of us for pampering him that he hobbled over to a friend's house and stayed there until the cast came off."

Zach chuckled without meaning to. "And when we went on that family vacation on Mount Moon, and he slid off the trail. We found him a little ways down, scratched and bruised – and hiking back up to meet us."

"I'm surprised you remember that," Celia said. "You couldn't have been out of diapers."

"It's about the only memory of Mom I've got," he explained. "I like to hang on to it."

Frita smiled to herself. "You think they're all together, somewhere?"

"I'm positive that they are," Brock said at last, quietly but with a ring of strength behind the words. He nodded to himself, then stepped out of the kitchenette, pressing a hand to Gwen and Zach's shoulders and trying a full smile for the first time in weeks. "So, why are we sitting around moping? If they're enjoying themselves, then why aren't we?"

"You are supposed to mourn the dead," Ash reminded them, an annoyed edge in his voice.

"Oh, shut up," Misty snapped. "Brock's right, you know. I've been crying about my sisters for far too long, and you're even worse. I'm sure that wherever they are it's way better than here, and the only thing that's keeping them down is knowing we're still all weepy about it. Of course you're supposed to mourn the dead, Ash, but there's only so much time you can spend on it."

"Life goes on," Brock agreed, "and you just have to move forward, and keep doing the best that you can." He turned to the other Harrisons. "I don't know how I could've forgotten that. I'm sorry I've been so… like this for so long. I'm sure it's been dragging you all down, too—"

"We were just as bad," Celia reminded him.

"Not you," Brock told her with a smile, snaking out his arms to hug his younger sister. "Thanks, Cel. For remembering what's important."

She shook her head. "Not me." She smiled, pulling out of his arms and pointing to Misty. "Her crazy attempts to cheer us up were what finally snapped me out of it. I just thought, 'Geez, there're so many people who're worried sick about us. This isn't really fair to them, is it?' And that made me think of what Kris would say about that, and I thought that, as long as he knew that we loved him, and that we missed him, then he'd…" Celia shrugged. "Anyway, thanks, Misty. Most people would've given up on us by now."

"Well, I always was annoyingly stubborn," she said with a weak laugh.

"Stubborn and wonderful," Brock murmured, and Misty was a little taken aback when she shifted her gaze to meet his eyes and found him staring back at her with a smile of open admiration and adoration on his face.

Misty shifted under the surprising intensity of that look, and glanced away, fluttering over to the kitchenette. She poked her head in and sniffed disapprovingly. "Blech! Now I know you've been in a funk – this smells terrible. Can we even fix it, or should we just start over? Oh, never mind, I'll do it myself. I know how to cook a few things here and there, as long as you've got some boxes and cans for me to work off of…"

She flung open a drawer, rifling around through the kitchen utensils, though she didn't get very far before Brock and Celia came rushing in behind her, twin cries of, "Wait, we have a system in here!" on their lips. Frita, Gwen, and Zach glanced at one another, then finally let their insides unwind and laughed aloud at the sounds of the miniature skirmish taking place in the kitchen.

Ash watched in amazement as the group fought and chuckled and teased one another, maybe not with as much enthusiasm as they might have before – perhaps it was even a little forced – but they were still trying. They were ready to miss their brother, and remember him, and, with those memories tucked away someplace quiet and tender, they were at last ready to move forward again. His eyebrows bunched tightly together as he stared at them, trying to understand, and to figure out why he had such a tight ball of heat in the middle of his chest… and then it struck him, and he felt such a strong wave of dizziness that he had to reach out and grab the couch behind him for balance.

"I don't want—!"

The words burst out of his mouth before he could stop them. As everyone's eyes turned to him, he looked down again, promptly cutting off his sentence. He could still feel them watching him, though, and the feeling only made his vertigo worse. He mumbled something about going out to the front porch, then shoved himself off the couch and half-staggered, half-ran to the doorway, opening it and closing it with a slam behind him. He slumped against the railing, pressing his head into his hands, taking gulping breaths as he tried to get the world to stop reeling. He was going to be sick. No, he was going to faint. No, he was going to do both. Or neither. Or…

"Ash?" He stiffened as Brock's voice called quietly behind him. The last person he wanted to see. The only person he wanted to see. "Are you okay?"

'What does it look like?' he wanted to snap, only he couldn't this time. Something else was taking hold of him, something he'd thought had withered away when the last important person had been ripped away from him. Something that made it impossible for him to be harsh to Brock, not right now anyway. So instead of coldness, he gave the truth. "Vomiting. Passing out. Maybe dying. I'll tell you when I know for sure."

For a moment, Brock's voice read pure horror. "Oh, gods, are you… are you catching that?"

"No," he said with a weak chuckle. Oh, if only it was something that simple. "Caught that virus a while ago. Vermillion. Got treated. Not that."

He breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Then what's wrong?"

Ash hesitated, because he wasn't quite sure, either. What was wrong? He couldn't find an exact answer, only it felt like – it felt like the bottom had just dropped out of the world, and that it was somehow his fault. 'My fault?' he repeated, turning the phrase over in his head. 'My fault… My fault… My fault…'

"Oh, I get it," he said, then giggled weakly. "This is what killing somebody feels like." Brock said nothing. Maybe he knew what Ash meant. Maybe he agreed with him. At any rate, saying it made it a little easier to bear. Ash took a breath, dropped one hand to the railing, let the other one slide down so it was covering his mouth. "I'm sorry, Brock. If not for me, Kris wouldn't've—"

"Don't you dare," Brock snapped back, so harshly that Ash jerked his head around to stare at his old friend. He didn't look angry, though, or at least not accusing. Ash couldn't decide if that made him feel better or worse. "I don't blame you, so don't even start with that."

"But if I'd gone to the Elite earlier, then—"

"I didn't say that you couldn't have saved him," Brock interrupted evenly, calm once again. "But you can't apologize for it, because I don't blame you." Ash stared at him, watching with baffled eyes as Brock walked up to the railing, pressing his own hands to the bar and looking out over the Pewter street. "If I've learned anything from this stupid war, it's that blaming people, even yourself, is one of the most dangerous things you can do. It makes people defensive, angry, irrational… even crazy. So I try not to do it anymore." He chuckled weakly. "Of course, I still slip up once in a while – like these past few weeks, when I somehow decided it was my fault that Kris and everyone else had died. And maybe I am a little responsible for it. And maybe you are, too. But blaming ourselves for it isn't going to do any good. It's just going to make us stupid."

Ash closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could feel the dizziness sliding away a little bit. He still felt about as weak as a newborn, though.

"…To see anyone else die," Brock said suddenly.

It forced Ash to look up again. "Huh?"

"That's what you were going to say, wasn't it? 'I don't want,'" he said, repeating Ash's frantic burst from inside. "Isn't that how it was going to end?" Ash nodded once before looking away again, pressing his forehead to the railing. Nope – still sick. He nearly jumped when he felt a weight press against the top of his head, but relaxed again when he realized it was just Brock's hand. "You're not a bad kid, Ash. You're brash and stubborn and angry at – well, I'm starting to think everything, but you're not a bad kid. That's why I forgave you after that first night – and why I'm going to keep forgiving you when you do stupid stuff. Misty's the same way." His voice grew a little quieter, and maybe a little sadder. "Probably more so." The lightness returned again as he removed his hand from his friend's hair. "So don't vomit, or pass out, or die out here, okay? There are people who'd worry about you." He chuckled. "And besides, my landlord would have a fit."

"Mm," Ash murmured, raising his head again. "But I think I'm gonna go back to my apartment. I really don't feel good. Maybe it was the smell of your crappy cooking." Brock snorted out a laugh and Ash almost managed one with him. "Um… could you walk Misty back to our place later? She pretty obviously wants to spend the day here, and she's afraid of being alone – at night."

If Brock noticed the way Ash fumbled with the words "at night," as if they were a hurried afterthought, he didn't let it show. "Sure. Take care of yourself, all right?"

Ash nodded once, listening as Brock turned and headed back to the doorway. He heard the doorknob turn and spoke suddenly, not at all sure if he should ask his next question but knowing just as surely that he had to. "Brock?"

"Yeah?"

"If you… had a chance to stop this war, but…" he swallowed hard, pressing shaking hands to his mouth again, "but to do it, you had to put the rest of your family's lives on the line… would you do it? Risk them all for the rest of the world, I mean?"

Brock chuckled again. "That's an easy one. Of course I'd risk them. They'd never forgive me if I didn't."

He waited a second, but when Ash said nothing more he went back into the apartment, closing the door quietly behind him. Ash opened his eyes, peering out at the afternoon view of Pewter city, with the wall rising up like a constant reminder of the battles still being fought on some distant field, somewhere. He took a breath, trying to feel that "hope" that Celia had talked about, that Misty had explained, that Brock and Gary – though he'd never admit the second one – had shown him. He couldn't feel it, not really, but…

'But I think,' he said to no one but himself, 'that maybe I want to try… a little...'

xxx

Three days later Gwen caught the telltale cough of someone stricken with Quiana's virus. Her fever blossomed a few days later, and with mounting sadness she was put in quarantine.

"Not that it'll make a difference," Misty snapped. She had worked herself into a good rage that morning, and was making Ash, Gary and Tracey well aware of it. "For heaven's sake, how much suffering can a single family take?"

Ash kept his back to her, staring out Tracey and Gary's apartment window. Frost was forming on the window; a sure sign that winter wasn't too far off. He took a slow, even breath, closing his eyes to the traces of winter. "I'll be leaving in a few days."

"Figures," Tracey muttered, flipping from static to static on the mostly worthless television.

"So soon? You must have seen something you really hated about us," Misty spat venomously. She waved a hand in his direction. "Fine, run away from the problem, see if I care. I didn't think you'd change – men never do - but it was worth a try. Stupid me, for thinking a selfish jerk like you—"

"You win," he interrupted.

She stopped mid-rant. Tracey looked up. Even Pikachu, dozing on the windowsill, perked up his ears and stared at his master. Misty struggled to find her words again. "I… I what?"

"You win," he repeated. "I'm going to the Elite's hideout to get help and do what I can to stop the war."

"How do you plan on doing that?" Tracey asked. "More bombs?"

"Peace talks, treaties, stuff like that," Ash answered. "I don't think there're any countries out there who really want this to keep going on, it's just that nobody knows how to open the door for compromise. Maybe, if the Elite, who aren't really allied with any nation, do it, then…"

"That's gotta be the biggest load of bull I've ever heard."

All eyes turned to a sulking Gary. He hadn't been in a very good mood - Tracey suspected the cold weather had brought some stiffness to his war wounds, reminding him yet again of his disability - and seemed almost to be looking for a fight.

"How's that?" Misty asked, ready to give him the battle he requested.

"You think Kanto's the only place that's been screwed over by this war?" He laughed wryly. "I been everywhere from Quiana to the Marabu Islands and it all looks exactly like this. Hell, I've caused some of this. Every time you shoot down a plane you know someone's parent or sibling or child might not be coming home, but you do it anyway, 'cause you gotta protect you and yours. The friends fighting with you, and somewhere miles away, the people back home." He tapped out an annoyed pattern into the table with his fingertips. "But why do they keep ordering everyone to do it, huh?" His tapping fingers turned into a fist, and he pounded it into the table with a vengeance. "Because there isn't a damn world leader out there who actually gives a shit about what happens to this planet. It's just one big, long pissing match to see who can kill who faster, and to hell with the rest. They don't care about the suffering and sacrifices – for them, it's just a name on a map and a certain leader who attacked them first."

"There's… some truth in that," Tracey agreed reluctantly.

"There has to be something we can do, though," Misty insisted.

"You wanna know how this is gonna end?" Gary snapped. "Two ways. One: we run out of money and materials for weapons. Unlikely – people always find new ways to kill each other. Two: the governments stretch themselves so thin that they snap and collapse. And then we're talking civil wars, everywhere you wanna look. Maybe 'till there's nothing left. Game over. A couple of peace talks aren't gonna solve anything. So unless you figure out how to disable all the bombs, this little rock we call home'll be toast in a few more years."

"I don't believe that," Misty growled, fists clenched at her sides. "At one time, yes, I may have agreed with you. But if this stubborn twit—"

"Thanks, Mist," Ash drawled.

"—can change his mind I know that someone else will, too. No matter what country or what leader, if they understand how useless this is, they'll turn away from it. Their lives are at stake too, you know."

He shrugged. "Don't get me wrong: I hope you're right, and you're more than welcome to give it a shot. I just think you're wasting your time."

"I have to try," Ash said. "I don't know why - even I can't explain it – but for some reason I have to get this war to end."

Misty smiled slightly. "Maybe you've still got that heart of yours after all."

"I take it you'll be coming with me," Ash assumed after a moment of silence.

She sighed. "I've followed you to the bowels of Hell and back again. Something as simple as climbing a mountain in winter ought to be a breeze. And, if I don't, you'll just get yourself killed." Misty waved a hand dismissively. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that Ash Ketchum can't do anything without a couple people backing him up."

"You're too kind," Ash said dryly. "Should we go tell the others? I bet they'll be thrilled."

Misty agreed, and they began to leave. Having nothing better to do, Tracey followed, and Gary with him a few moments later. After a short walk they arrived at Brock's home. Ash opened the door without knocking and surveyed the scene. Nothing much had changed - chores carried out, home-schooling done - but the empty seat beside Zach was a painful reminder of the stricken Harrison family.

"Look who's here," Celia said, trying to smile. "We haven't seen you in a few days - thought you skipped town."

"Ash and I are about to," Misty said, practically glowing. "He's going back to the Elite. Ash is finally going to end this war!"

Brock's face broke into another of his rare, genuine smiles. "It's about time. Good thing to hear, too. Are all four of you going?"

"I am," Tracey said.

"Just Misty and me," Ash said at the same time. He whirled on Tracey. "You're coming?"

He shrugged. "I don't have anything better to do. And, like Misty said, you always did need a couple people to back you up."

"I suppose I should be grateful." It was the closest thing to a thanks Tracey would get. Ash nodded in Gary's direction. "You're tagging along too, then?"

He mirrored Tracey's shrug. "It's a stupid idea, but that doesn't mean I'm not curious about it. Yeah, I'm coming, too."

Misty rubbed her hands together. "Good. It'll be a lot easier traveling through Viridian Forest with a few extra people. Bandits don't usually attack groups... right?"

Ash only laughed darkly.

"We ought to make plans and get supplies," Tracey cut in. He seated himself on Brock's sofa, pulling out a notepad.

"Always prepared," Gary chuckled. "You're worse than a boy scout."

"We'll all need bags, and... protection would be nice, but I'm guessing Gary and I won't be able to find anyplace in town that sells guns," Brock's nod confirmed his guess, "so we'll have to make do with a few Pokemon apiece, I guess…" Tracey trailed off, scribbling a few more things onto his list, then glanced up again. "Okay... I can carry all the equipment for pitching a tent... which one of you guys'll be designated cook?"

"Brock will."

All eyes jerked up to see Celia standing behind the sofa.

"What do you mean, 'Brock will'?" Zach asked, breaking into the adult's conversation.

"Exactly what I said," she replied. "He's going with you."

Brock frowned, confused. "But Celia, I can't leave. I've got a job—"

"That I can take over for you," she insisted.

"What about Gwen? Someone's gotta look after—"

He was cut off again. "I'll take care of that, too. I spent a lot of time around that virus and I haven't caught it yet. I'm willing to risk that." Her look softened. "The only way this is going to stop is if we find the medicine, and we'll never find it sitting around here in Pewter. Maybe, on the way, or once you find the Elite..." She nodded, resuming her determined attitude. She walked over to the small group, facing her older sibling and pressing a hand affectionately to his shoulder. "Besides, you're miserable here. I know, you feel the need to play big brother, and I respect you for sticking by us, but I'm not ten anymore. And Ash and his friends aren't going to do anyone any good if they starve along the way. Trust me: they need you a lot more than we do right now."

He opened his mouth to object, but stopped. After a few moments, Brock managed a smile. "There isn't an argument for that, is there?"

Misty's face lit up. "You're coming with us?"

"Do I even have a choice?" He jerked a thumb at Celia. "She'll feed me to the Ursarigs if I don't."

Ash half-sighed. "Wonderful. I'll be bringing a whole army to the Elite's front door at this rate." He sat cross-legged on the floor, taking the pad from Tracey's hands. "All right, then, we'll leave tomorrow morning at seven o'clock sharp. Now, who will bring what...?"

xxx

Early the next morning Ash, Misty, Gary, and Tracey met Brock on his front porch. He had some good news for them. "There's a man on the outside of town who owns a stable," he explained, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and shouldering his pack. "I called him last night and he told me he'd loan us some of his animals."

"Sounds like a good plan," Tracey agreed.

"We only get to use them to the edge of Viridian," Brock went on. "He doesn't want them to get killed in the forest."

"How thoughtful," Gary said sarcastically. "I guess it's better than walking, and it'll cut the time a little shorter."

Celia, the only other Harrison awake, gave Brock a farewell hug and wished the others a safe journey. "Good luck. I hope everything goes well."

"Um, Celia?" Ash asked suddenly, shifting in the doorway. "Could I… ask a favor?" She looked to him, waiting for more, and he scratched the ears of the Pikachu perched in his customary spot on his shoulder. "Would you mind looking after him for me? It's just – I don't know what's going to happen now, and the only really safe place in this country is Pewter, these days, so… I just thought, if you wouldn't mind…"

She smiled. "I'd be happy to."

Celia held out her hands to the little animal, who watched her reluctantly. Pikachu looked to Ash, who nodded once, running a hand down his back again with a tenderness that he had yet to show to any of his human companions. Sensing the silent request – though never a command – Pikachu nodded and hopped from Ash's shoulder and into Celia's open arms. Ash smiled. "Thanks." It was hard to tell if he was saying it to the girl or the Pokemon. He nodded, turning towards the rest of the group, looking both relieved and a little sad. "Well, we ready?"

Brock nodded and led the way to the stables, keeping up a stream of light chatter with the others, though Ash didn't seem much in the mood for talk. In a few minutes two human shapes fell into step on either side of them. It was still dark, and none of them noticed until the female on the right spoke.

"Don't you think it's rude when people leave without so much as a good-bye?"

The male nodded. "Very."

"Unless, do you think, they knew it wouldn't be a good-bye?"

"In that case," he remarked, "it wouldn't be rude at all, and we'd have to forgive them for the accusation."

It was Jessie and James, of course.

"Let me guess: you're joining this parade?" Ash queried.

"Seems like you're cursed to have us follow you forever," Jessie teased. "Last night Brock mentioned you were leaving Pewter, and we couldn't resist the urge to tag along."

"Do you have a reason, or are you just along for the ride?" he asked.

"As a matter of fact, we do," James picked up the conversation. "I've seen your level of alertness, and, with all due respect, it has me worried. To put it bluntly, the world couldn't be in less stable hands. I'm coming along to make sure you don't get yourselves killed." Without thinking he put a hand to his gun, making his point.

"And since he's my bodyguard, I figure I ought to stay with him," Jessie went on. "It's no good hiring someone if you're going to be miles away from them."

"Jessie also happens to be decent at self-defense. Between the two of us we ought to be able to keep you in one piece long enough to reach this valley," James added. He overlooked the crew. "How many of you is a different question entirely. I assume you all have legitimate reasons for coming."

"Brock's the only one," Misty laughed. "He's feeding us. The rest of us are sorta just tagging along."

"Extra pairs of hands might come in handy," Ash thought aloud. "Especially if we get in a fight with someone."

A few minutes later they reached the stables. Brock knocked once on the small house's door. There were a few noises inside, then the sounds of two sets of heavy footsteps. A middle-aged man answered the door, his wife peeking over his shoulder. "Who's out there, ringing my bell this early?" He noticed Brock. "Oh, of course. I almost forgot you was coming to pick up some animals." He grabbed a key from a hook near the door. "Follow me."

He led the way to a set of stables near the city limits. Opening the doors wide, he looked the group over as they walked in. "Ah, seven of you, are there? Any of you experienced Pokémon trainers?" Gary and Ash spoke up. "Right, then, I'd best give you the rowdier ones." He saddled the two with big Rapidash stallions. His eyes went to the girls. "Now for th' ladies." A couple mare Ponytas were selected. To Brock and Tracey. "Over here." They were given a duo of smaller Rapidash. Last came James. "Hm. You're a bit tall for a small one. I s'pose I can trust you with one of the larger ones." He patted the neck of a mare. "This is Aries. She's a good, gentle girl, so don't worry about a thing. I'll go get the saddles while you get used to th' animals." He left shortly.

Ash and Gary handled the big animals well, though Ash couldn't help but snidely remark that Gary seemed a bit out of practice – to which Gary couldn't help but reply that he'd been a little busy getting shot at the last four years, and what had Ash been up to during all that time? Tracey and Brock ignored the snappish remarks and immediately made friends with their own Rapidash, who seemed to have agreeable tempers. The Ponytas given to Jessie and Misty were as gentle as two Pokémon could get – neither had a problem. James didn't get very near to his, but Aries seemed to like him well enough. Jessie was going to ask why he wasn't making friends when the stableman came back. Not five minutes later he had them all ready to go.

"They'll come back once ya let 'em loose," he explained, patting Jessie's Ponyta on the side. "Don't override 'em, though." He held out a palm to Brock. "That'll be a hundred dollars, if you don't mind. I have a household to support, ya know."

After paying every cent – he made sure to count it several times – the group of travelers were led around to the side gate and let out. With a parting wave to the stableman, they turned to trot off just as the sun was coming up over the hill.

"Hey, Ash," Gary began, coming up next to the Champ. "Exactly where is this place we're going?"

"In the mountains," Ash answered briskly, covering a yawn.

"Obviously." Gary rolled his eyes. "I'm a soldier; I need details."

Ash seemed a little uneasy. "What sort of details?"

"Distance, approximate time, weather conditions, location on a map, etcetera."

He rubbed the back of his head; luckily no one could see him blushing in the dim light. "Well... Viridian Forest is a two-day walk. From the village at the foot of Silver, it's another couple days up, then from there give-or-take a five-day journey into the heart of the Crimson Range. So…" he shrugged. "You do the math."

"But at this time of year the weather's going to be an ice hell, right?"

"Probably."

"We're talking maybe a week and a half of tramping through frozen lakes and ten feet of snow?"

"Possibly."

"Wonderful," came Gary's sarcastic reply, and he unintentionally reached a hand down to rub at his left leg.

"No one's forcing you to come," Ash reminded him. "If you're scared or something…"

Gary glared back a challenge at him, but before he could retort Misty rode up on Ash's left, speaking hurriedly to keep the peace. "Winter on the way and we're going on a hiking trip. You would pick the most difficult time of the year, wouldn't you?"

Ash grinned. "If only to piss you off."

xxx

Jessie patted Aquarius' neck and turned her eyes to the fields bathed in morning sunlight. She glanced over to see if James was enjoying the ride as much as she was – and couldn't believe what she saw. Her comrade was clinging to the horse's neck, trying desperately to stay on. Aries trotted along smoothly enough, but you would have thought he was riding a wild Tauros. Jessie couldn't stand it. She put a hand to her mouth and laughed.

He shot her a look. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying this." He scrambled to keep from sliding off. "What's so funny?"

"It's just, seeing the king of composure looking so awkward..." She burst into another fit. "If it wasn't you, you'd be laughing too."

"I doubt it," he sniffed, trying his best to stay upright and failing miserably.

"I guess some people just can't ride," Tracey remarked, coming up next to them. He checked to see how high up the sun was. "Pretty good lighting. We could probably go at a run." He looked to their unofficial leader. "Sound like a plan, Ash?"

The Champ grunted, kicking his Rapidash into a fast gallop. In a moment the others were following his lead. Aries, seeing her companions moving quicker, also sped up. James did what he could, but there was just no way to stay on without looking like an idiot. Sighing and cursing, he hugged the Rapidash's neck and wondered how much longer he'd have to endure this.

xxx

Around ten in the morning they reached the outermost regions of Viridian Forest. Patting the horses in thanks, the travelers unpacked their supplies from their animals and set them on a homeward course.

"I was kind of attached to that Pisces," Gary commented. "Might even miss him."

"I certainly won't," James growled, dusting himself off. "You're such an easy target on one of those things – can't wield a gun at all."

"Actually, a lot of people can," Jessie teased. "You have to stop hugging the horse, though."

He blushed crimson and snatched up his bag, stalking off into the forests. "Shouldn't we start moving? It's easier to travel through Viridian in the morning than after noon – most bandits don't wake up until then."

As they started their long journey, Misty leaned over to Jessie and giggled. "You're a very talented woman."

"Hm? What makes you say that?"

"You're the only person who can make James blush!"

7/18/08

On Music (Or, "Turn-of-the-Century Tunes")
Slightly random thing to talk about, which is probably why it's pretty short, but during those long nighttime hours I spent typing out 2k5 on my rusty old Windows 3.1, I was playing a series of CDs that sort of became the story's soundtrack. So I thought I'd share. The albums were:

Vertical Horizon – Everything You Want
Three Doors Down – The Better Life
Goo Goo Dolls – Dizzy Up the Girl
Matchbox Twenty – Mad Season
Barenaked Ladies – Maroon
And, occasionally, the Red Hot Chili Peppers' Californication
(Happily, all of these bands are still together, and most of them still enjoy a fair amount of popularity, so hopefully I don't have a bunch of young readers scratching their heads and going, 'Who the heck are those guys?')

I didn't have any real reason for making this my running play list – they were just my favorite albums at the time… though over time certain songs began to feel like "theme songs" for the fic, like Three Doors Down's "Duck & Run," Matchbox Twenty's "Black & White People," Vertical Horizon's "Miracle," and Goo Goo Dolls' "Dizzy" (look up the lyrics and tell me honestly that it's not about Jessie!). So, if you feel like listening to some tracks while you're reading 2k5, those're the albums I'd suggest – especially the Vertical Horizon, 3 Doors Down, and Goo Goo Dolls ones. Pretty much the whole things fit some character or scene or another. (So maybe I was inspired without realizing it? Could be! (grin)).

More profiles, as promised! And why not continue with everybody's favorite breeder…

Brock Harrison

The Basics
-Though I know there's been some debate about Brock's age in the TV series, based on his male voice actors in both the US and Japan, his height, and his girl-craziness, I've always theorized fifteen. This makes him twenty-two years old at the beginning of the fic, but (in my universe) he turns twenty-three on November 15th, which does fall during this chapter, so he's technically twenty-three now.
-Brock is the one who's probably changed the least as far as appearance goes. He's grown a few inches (about 5'10") and he's filled out, especially in the shoulders and chest, but people who haven't seen him in a few years can recognize him immediately. He still wears his wiry hair short, perhaps a shade shorter than he used to.
-I gave him the last name Harrison, which was one of the generally accepted surnames by the Pokefan community at the time I wrote this (the other was Slate, I think). Maybe it's changed since then.
-In my world, Brock's parents were originally from Tenuto (this is my explanation for his family's darker skin color, slanted eyes, and wiry hair). His father was raised entirely in Kanto, but his mother immigrated in her teens (and yes, by the way – I hold to US Indigo Canon in that she passed away when Brock was about thirteen). She was bilingual and hung onto a lot of her home country's culture. Brock emulates that in some of his eating and cooking habits, as well as in his religious beliefs.
-Before the war, he traveled with Ash up until his victory at the Indigo League. During Ash's busy opening months with the Elite, he and Misty stayed in Pallet Town to study with Professor Oak.

Wartime History
-Brock returned home as soon as he heard news of the war. He moved back in with his family and re-enrolled in the local high school (in my universe, by the way, all the kids were taking online courses during their travels). He made friends quickly, and even had a girlfriend for a while (she thought his fumbling and over-enthusiasm were sort of cute). Finally spending time with a girl was what at last broke him of his awkward hormones, by the way (haha). He was preparing to graduate when…
-An attack from a terrorist group burned half of Pewter City to the ground. Brock lost three siblings during the chaos of the fires and rioting (Pewter's Lament, a prequel story located on my old website, details all of this). After the attack, a lot of people moved away out of fear, including Brock's girlfriend. A few weeks later the local government raised money to build a wall around the rest of Pewter, turning the city into a small fort.
-Due to tensions with his father (see Relationships), Brock moved out of his family's apartment as soon as he turned eighteen. He lived by himself for almost two years.
-When Quiana's virus struck Pewter, Brock was actually the first in his family to come down with the illness. Panic had cleaned the city out of medicine, but his family was able to buy half a bottle from somebody in town. There was enough left that Brock, half-dead by the time they got it, was able to fight off the virus and survive, but the next victim – his father – was not so lucky.
-After his father passed away, Brock moved back into his family's apartment to take care of his siblings, particularly the three (Erik, Millie, and now Kris) who have one-by-one come down with the virus. He got a job working as a wall guard because it paid better than his previous job as a lawyer's assistant. In his spare time (which isn't much), he tries to take college-level classes with the remaining few professors who still live in Pewter. This is where we meet him.

Relationships
-Brock disliked his father (for obvious reasons), but his dislike turned to loathing after he lost his three siblings during the Pewter attack. He blamed Flint for letting them die, and was very vocal about that belief. He moved out of the family home because of this. After Flint later risked and lost his life to take care of Brock while he was sick with the virus, Brock came to forgive his father. They made peace with each other right before Flint passed away.
-Despite the tensions with his father, Brock remained intimate with and protective of his siblings. He and Celia have always been especially close, to the point where Celia risked catching the virus in order to visit him when he was sick (Celia is 18, by the way; there should be a 19-year old brother named Walker between her and Brock, but he was killed in the attack).
-Brock and Ash got into a fight shortly after the attack on Pewter. After his father died, Brock realized the idiocy of holding a grudge and called Ash. The two made up, but their friendship has never been as warm as it once was.
-Misty came down to visit Brock once about a year after the attack on Pewter. They continued to exchange very candid letters with one another until the bombing of Cerulean. Brock feared that Misty had died in the blast.

General Ramblings
I've always liked Brock, though never in the fangirl-ish squealing way that a lot of female Pokefans did. I tended to think of him more as that friend that you love but tease all the time (this was made even more entertaining because my best friend was one of those fangirls, haha). And, though I did enjoy lovingly poking fun at both him and his eyes in my lighter PokeFics, he was also the only "twerp" who I ever did anything in-depth with outside of 2k5 (though I don't think any of those fics were ever published anywhere). This made writing for him very simple.

To me, Brock was always the most cool-headed of the major characters, the most intelligent in most instances, and the kindest as well. He could also get very protective about the people and things he cared about, and his temper tended to peek through during those moments. Overall, though, he radiated "big brother" warmth. I took those qualities and just aged them a little, adding some maturity to the picture so he wasn't constantly falling over the local women (heheh). And, though in some ways he's the luckiest of the characters because he's still got half his family, he's also the only person who's really had to deal with tragedy for the entire duration of the war – while at the same time supporting the remainder of his dwindling siblings, both economically and emotionally – so in other ways I think those ordeals have aged him the most out of everyone. In a way, he's sort of stepped from "big brother" to "father" over the years, and I always think of him as the one in the group most ready to have kids of his own. So, maybe he can look forward to that when and if the war ever ends (smile). I hope everyone's pleased with my portrayal of the loveable Senor Squinty (hehe, my personal nickname), and let's hope both he and his family can find a happy ending through all of this!

Tracey will likely be the next profile, since he doesn't have much in the Big Secret department like some of the other characters do. He's got some great war stories to tell, though, so look forward to that!

'Till Next Time! – Dee :)