The Strangest Kind of Love

by Warlordess

Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together... Pokeshipping fic.

7. The Little Things You Do, and the Big

Author - Chibi / Warlordess

Disclaimer - I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual series. . .

Notes - I have a sickness. I obviously have a sickness. I've started a new fic when I have so many others in progress. Then again, "Illicit Saints" and "Blind" might as well be on hold. . . and I've already got the first eight chapters of this fic all planned out. Gods, this fic might actually be one of the longest (chapter-wise) yet. But please read and review and tell me if you think I should continue this immediately.

OoOoO

Pokemon - "The Strangest Kind of Love"

Chapter Seven - "The Little Things You Do, and the Big. . ."

Fic Facts:

Summary - Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

Rating - Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

Characters and Ages -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in August of 2005.

This fic was officially started in March of 2006.

This chapter was officially started August 9th, 2007.

OoOoO

Once upon a time, there was a young woman - one of four - who was taken advantage of by her sisters. Once upon a time, this young woman was a young girl with dreams and aspirations that she wanted so clearly to complete. Once upon a time, this young girl had a best friend - someone deemed a hero in so many ways - who meant more than the world to her, as all best friends do. And once upon a time, this young girl who had a best friend became a young woman with three older sisters who couldn't handle their own world; as such, this young woman lost contact with those dreams and aspirations she'd had as a young girl growing up. Finally, once upon that same time, the young woman lost contact - also - with that best friend of hers, and only every once in awhile was she able to take some time and wonder what had become of him, and what heroic things he was doing now.

The plot-twist started, again, once upon that same time, when the stress of living half of those three older sisters' lives became too much on the young woman and she was told to go away. Luckily, this woman still had a best friend, and this best friend - who had, once upon a time, been a young boy - accepted her into his home; the woman who had - once upon a time - been a young girl.

The end of the story as it should have been, and as the young woman had known of since the beginning, was that she would return home to her three sisters and that oh - so stressful life, and she would - once upon a time - deal with it all.

. . . And that was the end; right?

Fairytales always had happy endings. They always started with a, "once upon a time," and they always ended with a, "happy ever after." That, crippled with the fact that Misty couldn't help but read every generic romance novel she got her hands on, was probably the reason she had always hoped to live that type of fairytale herself.

Of course, fairytales were for children (as her sisters often tried to make her believe) and happy endings were only for stories that those children read, because they were gullible enough to believe that the world always turned out that way.

Now Misty lay in the bed that her best friend, Ash, had provided for her over the past month or so, and she faced that particular fork in the road that those whimsical tales often alluded to. A difficult position filled with both difficult and hopeful, "happy ever after," decisions.

She should go home. She should realize that this, while wonderful and refreshing, was not a permanent fix and she had hopeless sisters to tend to and bills to help pay.

She should stay. She should do something for her and teach her sisters that lesson that they'd always needed to learn - that being that they had to take care of themselves and their own mistakes.

She should ask Ash for his opinion, knowing the worst that can happen. Ash could tell her he wasn't in a fit position to care for her, and it would take too long to relocate her here and expect her to find a job in time before his bills started piling up; or. . .

. . . He could say that while it was a bit of a rush at first, the lifestyle he had come to wake up to and expect had been the one that included her. Therefore, he didn't want her to leave.

None of those (even the last and least likely one) were as whimsical as some of the stories she'd read through and through, but they were the only possibilities.

And now, Misty couldn't sleep. For the life of her, she couldn't reason with herself to face against her sisters and tell them, "no," or to face Ash and ask him to let her stay. She would have been lying if she said it was only because she didn't want to return home.

To her, his telling her she couldn't stay would be the same as him rejecting her; it would be that same feeling of dread and disregard she'd felt when just a fourteen year old girl being told that her bike was fixed, her sisters were leaving her with a huge responsibility, and she had better reason to go home than to stay. Because, while Ash probably didn't know what he'd been saying at the time, that was what had been heard.

Just like when Ash had told her that he could only believe he had met her on his first day away from home because he was meant to do so - because they were meant to be best friends. . . the words that crossed her were that she was that much more important to him because it was her and because they'd learned to know each other so well.

Misty had always wondered where she would have been if she hadn't met Ash that day. Or, rather, she had until the day she left. Would she have been home, taking care of the same things she did now because she had ended up not able to take care of herself on the road? Or how about facing off against other trainers with the same dreams she'd used to have in order to gain that title she'd always wanted? Maybe she could have even been working alongside someone like Lorelei or following another career path, such as becoming a nursing major for Pokemon. . .

But that day, she had seen a certain light, that being Ash's words about how he knew it was her he was supposed to meet and become best friends with, and she never felt she had to doubt her relationship with him again.

But that, too, was years ago. . . before she'd had to leave everything behind and grow up. And when she'd finally returned, unfortunately, she'd been left with the awkward emptiness from the shallow leftovers of her friendships as a child.

She'd been left with the hollow feelings of someone who had been abandoned, or who had abandoned someone else. Her hopes that things would just be. . . normal. . . after so much time made absolutely no sense, she could see now. She owed her friends from so long ago a lot already. And now. . . she had no right to ask anything of them - of Ash - but she simply couldn't help. . . wanting the best thing to happen to her.

The sun rose without her knowledge and she blinked and stared at the white plastered wall in front of her for ten minutes before realizing that she could see it so clearly in the morning light. She could suddenly hear things, muffled footsteps coming from under the doorway and a couple voices on the stairwell. Ash and May were up already.

She didn't want to have anything else to do with them, though. Misty knew that if she went downstairs and acted as though nothing were wrong, as if nothing were expected of her, then she would just become more and more attached to this lifestyle she couldn't have. . . up until the time she'd be forced to leave it behind. Again.

She threw the covers away from her and choked on air before jumping to her feet. She needed to get ready to go.

Rampaging through the closet, she found the suitcases stacked neatly in the back. She'd brought a lot of things with her; and now she had to replace them all for her long trip back.

Given, she didn't necessarily have to go back to Cerulean today - it was such short notice that the Houndoom bus ticket would be twice as expensive. But even so. . . she just didn't want to wait.

She dragged the first bag over to the dresser and pulled at the zipper. Tipping all of her hair and make-up products into the main pouch, she tried to ignore the feeling that said she was moving so quickly she wasn't giving herself a chance to think realistically. She ignored that part of her because she was sure it was the same part still praying for a fairytale.

Next she moved onto the closet full of blouses and the two dresses she'd brought with her. Both had been ironed out after usage at the homewarming and anniversary parties. Looking back now, the homewarming had obviously been a waste; Ash had been right. She wasn't going to be there long, so what was the point of bringing so much; of taking the opportunity to introduce her to all the neighbors? She wasn't sticking around anyway. And she wasn't going to be a part of his life again forever.

Suddenly feeling a burst of anger she didn't want to explain away, Misty tossed the dresses into the nearest case and shoved them as deep and flat as they'd go. Nothing deserved to look nice anymore. Nothing needed paid attention to. It just wasn't worth it.

She stomped back to the dresser and opened the first drawer, pulling all of her nightshirts and things out and dumping them roughly into another case. She slammed that drawer and moved onto the next one. And the next one. And the next--

--There was a sudden knock at her door.

Not bothering to brace herself for whoever might be there or what she'd say to how she'd been making so much noise and why she was putting her things away, she shouted for them to come in.

". . . Misty? What's going on? Ash and I heard a lot of pounding from the kitchen. . ." May said, entering the room and closing the door softly behind her. After all the attention Misty had been drawing to herself, it probably wouldn't have done much good anyway. "H - hey, what's happening? Why are you. . . Are you crying?"

Was she? Misty immediately dropped the two sweaters she'd just removed from the fourth drawer of her dresser and felt at her cheeks. Sure enough, they were wet and she felt that tingling, ticklish feeling as a few more tears trickled down towards her chin.

"I. . . I guess so." She knew it was a sore loss, this place and her regrown relationships with her friends, but she didn't think she'd miss it so badly that she would start crying. "I. . . didn't know. Sorry about the noise; I'm okay." She said distractedly, picking the clothes back up from the floor and placing them more neatly than the rest into the suitcase she happened to be filling.

"Why. . . are you packing?" May asked, deciding that Misty wouldn't explain about her crying on her own, but not wanting to abandon the older woman in her obvious grief.

"My sisters called."

"I know that." The younger woman finished, shrugging her shoulders. "That still doesn't explain why you're crying."

"They. . . want me back home; as soon as possible."

"Oh. . . but you. . . don't want to go back, I guess." A strange twist of insight later and Misty was on the bed next to May, trying not to throw her arms around the Hoenn native thanks to their jointed sympathy.

"I - it's just. . . I've never been as content with my life as I am right now, as I've been the past few weeks! I love it here, and I think my heart took to it so much it got ahead of the rest of me and decided it could play out the rest of its days here and. . . I can't! I just can't, can I? What other choice do I have next to going back home! I knew it was going to happen eventually but I just wanted. . . everyone to forget that it had to!" She wailed, not realizing that what she was saying might by heard by someone other than May.

"I'm sorry you think that you have to go back."

"I do, I have to! I knew they wouldn't care that what they were doing to me was running me down! My sisters just never want to take responsibility for themselves!"

"You should consider your options."

"I don't have any, though! They need me and I know they do and I can't stand for them to think I'm unreliable, to think I don't care, when I am and I do! And Ash has bills of his own to pay and I've doubled them over the course of the past few weeks I've been here and he's said nothing to me about it! I don't deserve to stay here and just enjoy my life! I can't do anything to defend myself from this; I have to go back to Cerulean!"

"You. . . don't really have to, do you?"

Misty blinked her eyes open, hyperventilating and realizing quite suddenly that her face was buried in May's shoulder. The younger woman's plush pajama shirt was basically soaked through now.

"But. . . they can't handle themselves, and Ash. . ."

"Ash loves you, Misty; you're his best friend. He'd do next to anything for you, and so would I and Brock. If you're happy here, then he wouldn't say no to letting you stay, I'm sure. He loves the company, even if it means dealing with someone who can be a polar opposite to his personality at times. . . and there's no reason why you can't get a part-time job out here, and continue living out here."

"But what about. . ."

"How old are your sisters, anyway? They're almost thirty and they're depending on someone who's got nothing on them in age. They dealt with the Gym before you went back home and if you give them the ultimatum, I have a feeling that they'll realize they need to do it again. One of your dreams when you were younger was that they'd grow to respect you as an equal. . . but I don't think it's developed the way you wanted it to. I'm sorry, Misty, but you gotta learn to say 'no' at some point."

"Say 'no'. . . I dunno if I can do that. I love the feeling of being needed."

"But how do you feel about the lack of appreciation? At this point, they're sticking you with whatever they can. And Misty, we're your friends so we can help you with all this. Max is running the Gym in Petalburg by himself, but I'm sure he has a few tricks to help your sisters. And Professor Oak runs a Preserve for Pokemon; I'm sure, at the end of the month, there's some extra PokeChow there. I bet you anything he'd have no problem sending it back to Cerulean. That way you don't need to worry about Pokemon feeding expenses, right?"

Misty dwelled on those thoughts, but not for long. She didn't want to think too much and end up disappointed. It happened often enough as it was.

She stared up at May's face and gave the tiniest bit of a relieved grin. She felt just a little better now, "Thanks. . . I dunno if what you said will actually mean anything when it comes down to it, but. . . it's nice to hear some of those words from anyone who isn't my conscience. For once."

Taking in the position she was holding, Misty rose from the bed and went to remove her hairbrush from the first bag she'd started packing. Realizing that her soaps and clothes for the day were among the things being bagged, she noticed that she really had been getting ahead of herself.

"Wanna head downstairs? I think Ash was just trying to whip up something for breakfast. Or, at least he was fifteen minutes ago."

Unfortunately for both of the girls, it seemed that Ash hadn't gotten much farther than where he'd been awhile back. He'd pulled a frying pan out from the place it usually hung on the wall next to the stove, and had his head currently stuck inside the fridge. One might have thought he'd fallen asleep just standing there, but the creaking of the stairs as the two women entered the kitchen proved otherwise, and he snapped his head up to attention.

"Oh, hey - I was just wondering if you guys had run away or something. You don't have to worry, May; my cooking's not nearly as bad as Misty's."

"H - hey! Stop telling lies!" Misty shouted as enthusiastically as she could muster. That being said, the enthusiasm wasn't that high, and when Ash turned to her with a smirk that clearly said he was ready so early in the morning for the competition, his expression sombered immediately.

"Hey, Myst; why's your face so red? We've barely started here. . . Come to think of it, what was actually going on upstairs? I swear I heard something like. . . like screaming, or crying. . ."

"Oh. It's nothing, not at all. I just. . . stubbed my nose - toe, I meant toe!" She finished with an anxious chuckle, sprinting across the kitchen and grabbing the frying pan, "But I'm over it! And how about, as a treat, I make breakfast?" She asked, holding it up.

The distraction worked. Ash tore the pan from her so fast, she thought he'd send them both crashing to the ground in his flurry. May stood silently in the doorway, her mouth open at the sight.

"No! I - I mean, no, Myst; I think May and I have this part. You know what you can do? You go ahead and set the table, okay? And whatever you do, stay away from this entire half of the kitchen." He marked the side to the right of May and the archway, which contained the fridge, stove, sink, cabinets containing seasonings and canned vegetables. "Just dishes and silverware. That's all you get to touch."

"Uhm. . . ugh, fine." She wasn't insulted, even if she sounded it, and she walked in the opposite direction of where Ash was standing in order to pull the plates down from the cabinet. Nervous to say the least, Ash kept his eyes on her all through the time it took him and May to cook breakfast.

Misty almost smiled. Ordinarily she would feel obligated to hurt Ash in some way for his obvious distaste of her cooking abilities, but she didn't want to draw the attention. Unfortunately she didn't know that not drawing attention was a way to draw attention. Misty didn't want her last day or so with her friends, spending time with them on a daily basis, to be filled with riddled argument. If she could avoid it, until she was gone. . . she'd rather do so.

Somehow, though, breakfast was turned in a silent meal. No one had anything to say. May's mouth was glued shut simply because she didn't want to say the wrong thing and start up a line of questioning leading towards Misty's distress that morning. Misty, herself, didn't know what to say that could be perceived as just normal enough. And, for whatever reason, Ash's eyes were trailing Misty's movements; perhaps he knew to a degree that there was something he was missing.

After everyone was finished eating, Misty volunteered to do the dishes. She didn't want to be involved with the others for just a little while. It had been too awkward earlier and she had to plan a few things; like how she was going to tell Ash goodbye, for example. And how she would spend the rest of her time here. . . It wasn't much, but she had to do something that showed she appreciated all he'd done.

"Ash loves you, Misty; you're his best friend. He'd do next to anything for you. . ." May had said to her upstairs. And she didn't doubt those words, really. But they were adults now, not kids, and they all had responsibilities to handle.

As she placed the last glass into the drainer, she heard a noise behind her; a throat clearing. And then Ash spoke.

"I don't get it. I thought we'd gotten a bit close again after so long; it was starting to remind me of our journey through Kanto. But you're treating me like I'm undeserving of whatever's happening in your life now. I'm back where I started, aren't I?"

"Oh. . . No, I. . . Ash," she started, wringing her hands dry on a towel hanging from the fridge door-handle and turning to face him. Or his feet anyway. What could she say? "There's just this thing I'm trying to deal with, and I will, and you'll be the first to know about it when I do."

He sighed in a way that said he knew ahead of time she was going to be making an excuse.

"I'm not in the mood to play twenty-one questions, so I won't ask anything of you, Myst; just tell me one thing. Does this. . . thing. . . you're handling have anything to do that guy from earlier this week? Or with that call with your sisters from last night? Just tell me if I'm getting warm here." He had a grin on his face, small, and giving the message that he was upset that she wasn't coming to him. "May knows what this is, too, I think. She usually has a ton of things to say to anyone who will sit still long enough, but not this morning. So she must have had it on her mind, too."

"N - no! That's not it! I'm sure she's just got a lot of things to think about that are. . . unrelated to me. Like, she's going home today and she's just waiting for Drew to call her and tell her he's home so she can go."

Ash didn't respond, just gave her half a glance and continued on, back out into the living room to watch television with May. Misty joined them and neither she nor Ash gave any indication about the small discussion that had just taken place.

It was about forty-five minutes later when some musical tune started to play and May leapt to her feet, shuffling around with her pockets. She removed a cell phone from one of them and hurriedly answered the call.

"Oh, Drew! I've been wondering when you'd get back to me! What? You'll be there in about two hours? Hm, well I was having such a blast here, but if you really wanna see me that bad. . ." May giggled and Ash and Misty, just staring, heard a voice raising itself over the receiver. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry; I'll get there a little after you. Huh? Yeah, my ticket's set up for the 12:30pm bus. . . Uh huh, it should only be an hour or so long. . . Okay. . . Right, I'll see you later. Oh, and Binky-Bear? I. . . love. . . you!" The voice managed to get even louder in the two seconds it took for May to press the 'end call' button.

She turned to see her two older friends staring at her with wide, horrified eyes.

"Uh, May. . . no offense, but do you call him that on a regular basis? 'Cause Drew just doesn't seem the type of person to be. . . you know. . . okay with those kinds of nicknames." Ash said, and Misty shook her head in agreement.

"Huh? Oh, no way! I was just doing that for your benifit! Drew knows it, though; that's why he won't be changing the locks on me before I get home."

Misty didn't say anything, but she couldn't help but be unsure of it. . . After all, Drew had asked May when she'd be back, and in the time-frame he'd acquired, he could easily finish up hiring and paying a locksmith for his services. But May was smiling. . . and Misty suddenly felt the need to laugh, so she did.

Now her friends were staring at her, and May's smile was widening. Was that the plan? To shake things up a bit and get her to feel a little better? It worked. Ash was smiling, too, now.

"What time is it now, anyway?" May asked, checking the satelitte on her cell phone. "Man, it's already 11:45! I need to go and pack my things. . ." There was a trail of smoke as her feet raced up the stairs and then it was Ash and Misty. Alone. For the first time in almost two days.

"So. . . t.v.?"

"Yeah, definitely."

They were silent during the time the talk show they had randomly flipped to aired, while loud footsteps echoed off the ceiling as May threw all of her things from her stay over into her bag. It was still silent twenty minutes later when they heard the slamming of a door, also upstairs, insinuating that May had vanished into the bathroom to prep herself for when she saw her boyfriend again.

And it was silent, still, when they heard a loud grunt of exclamation and a door closing. And as the pounding on the steps increased, telling them that she was finally pulling her case towards the sitting room where they were at the moment, Misty spoke.

". . . When it's just you and me, I'll tell you."

Ash didn't have a chance to respond before May thrust herself overtop the back of the couch and her face landed in between him and Misty. There was the widest smile he'd ever seen on her face.

"I'm ready to go!"

"Yeah, I think we figured that out almost five minutes ago when your bag tried to demolish my staircase." Ash replied with intended sarcasm, but he got up anyway, and Misty followed suit. It was a common courtesy that the two of them would join May on her trip to the bustop, as well as sit with her during the few minutes' wait until she was gone.

In the case of Pallet, it was about a fifteen minute walk to the edge of town, towards the path leading to Viridian City, where the bus would be pulling up and - being the generous man that he was (not to mention being so easily susceptible to the big-blue-eyed stare's sequel) - Ash agreed to carry the suitcase that May had overstuffed.

Somehow, though he was weighed down with that extra twenty or so pounds, he still ended up about ten meters in front of the girls. It couldn't possibly have been because they slowed their own progress on purpose to continue their discussion from earlier that morning.

"You're gonna tell him, right? Like. . . today? He obviously won't appreciate it if he just wakes up to you not being there anymore." The younger woman stated plainly, staring at Misty's facial expression as though hoping to catch onto any lies.

"Oh. . . yeah. I told him I just wanted to wait until it was me and him. I don't know how he'll react, but I'd rather I be the only one to see it." The redhead faked a grin but May could tell she was speaking the truth.

"I guess it makes sense. It's not like him crying like a little girl would be anything new, though, right?" She giggled and both women managed to ignore the look Ash gave them. He knew who they were talking and laughing about. "But we both know that you're hoping for a little of this and a little of that, right?" She finished, appointing a few hand gestures that Misty had never known May to associate with any conversation she was a part of. In response to that, she turned bright red.

"Uh. . . ? N - no! No way! C'mon, he's not my type! His slightly arrogant, but overall a good-guy - and always there to save the day - fairytale personality was endearing when I was a teenager, but I've grown out of it, you know?" And as she finished her description of Ash, her breath caught in her throat.

It was another aspect of that life she'd always wanted for herself; the fairytale prince, huh? Or as close as she would be getting to one anyway.

May didn't speak anymore on the matter, but for the rest of their trip, she had a small smile on her face, as though considering Misty's reply to her inquiry earlier, and putting together her own analysis to it.

The trio of friends sat together under the awning, on the bench, for the next ten or so minutes. May seemed to be getting more and more restless at the thought of seeing her boyfriend, Drew, again and Misty was almost aggravated. . . It would have been worse if she wasn't so jealous.

To be anticipating the rejoining with your loved one so much that you couldn't even sit still for the final half-an-hour leading up to it. . . ? Yeah, that was something else she'd been looking forward to as a girl.

Perhaps that was why she had wanted to fall in love at such a young age. It was as they said; the earlier it was done, the more of your life you'd be spending with that person. . . or something like that. And maybe that was why. . . she'd associated her crush with Ash as love, and so she wouldn't let any other girl come near him.

She had hoped to think of him as the boy - or man - she'd always love because then it would be easier to collapse into the lifestyle she'd wanted for herself when she was oh-so young.

But that was unrealistic, she saw now, and perhaps she'd seen it as she grew up as well. To depend on happiness based on how you felt for one person? It was unlikely that you'd be happy at all that way.

But still, Misty reasoned as she continued to watch May wiggle around in her seat while nervously tapping her fingers along her thighs, it would be nice to feel the way she does and have it be reciprocated.

The bus came and went but there were no tearful goodbyes. At least not on Misty's part; her mind was filled with troubles in other categories, so when she paid the two or so tears May happened to shed only a piece of her current state, May wasn't insulted; she understood.

But Ash was another story.

"Okay, is this just another one of those girl-things that none of you will tell me about, otherwise it'll spoil the secret?" He asked sharply as they waved May off. Misty was caught off-guard by the question.

"What do you mean?" She asked, already shuffling her feet and walking off as fast as possible back towards her friend's house. She had her own preperations to take care of before she, too, had to leave. She didn't want to think of the scientific theory behind May's crying, because she had a feeling that it was all due to the fact that the younger girl feared it would be months or even years up until the time they'd be seeing each other again.

A sigh fell upon her back but she still didn't bother turning to face him. . . until he spoke. "You promised you'd tell me when she was gone, so spill. Maybe then I won't need to ask about whatever happened back there." And Ash jacked his thumb behind him towards the bench they'd been sitting on a little while ago.

Just then there was a crash of thunder throughout the sky. Misty didn't smile but she did take peace in it; another distraction to keep her from telling Ash what was going on. And when the two got home, they'd both be so soaked that neither one's mind would be on it at all.

"Uh. . . we better get going before it starts to--" She was cut off as a drop of rain hit her on the nose and she wiped it off out of discomfort, "--yeah, that."

"What? No!" Ash shouted, hurriedly grasping her hand before she could go any further. "You said you'd tell me when we were alone, and we can't get much more alone than this!" He looked around, waving his other arm in example. For the sake of the fic, the area they seemed to be in was completely deserted.

"B - but it's starting to. . ." Ash glared hard at her as she tried to ease out of his grip. "Look, no matter what you say, I'm not gonna tell you right now! Not until we get home!" And at the end of her statement, a flash of lightning lit up the sky, her face glowing for a split second in the firey white hue. Ash ignored the slight tinge of red on his cheeks, which was pretty easy considering the situation they were in and the conversation they were having. . . the one that Misty suddenly didn't seem to want to be a part of.

She closed her eyes, not looking at anything and refusing to feel the rain splattering against her clothes. She wasn't here. This whole thing wasn't happening, and she wasn't hurting because she had to go home and she'd probably not be seeing her friends again for another year or so.

May had good reason to cry under these beliefs, Misty reasoned, as she felt her own eyes watering up. She ignored the chills she was getting from the cold, the only bearable thought being that Ash - who was forcibly holding her here - was feeling just as uncomfortable.

"Why not now? What's so much better about telling me at my house? You have to face your problems where you stand, Misty, you can't just keep putting them on hold! That's how you ended up where you are, feeding off of your sisters few words of praise as they eat away at you with their problems that they should be handling but aren't!" He shouted coldly, not caring for her reaction to the words.

Misty's eyes snapped open. How dare he. . . ? He had no right to say these things to her! As if he knew how it felt!

"What happened to you, Misty?" He whispered and, though it was in the same careless tone as his last statement, she felt a twinge of guilt at the look on his face. He wasn't angry anymore, really; just confused and upset.

"What. . . do you mean?" She gulped.

"You were my best friend and I knew you inside and out. Yeah, you cared then what your sisters thought of you and I can see why now. They never really had a simply kind word for you, did they? But I thought you were stronger than that, disgracing yourself to what you've become. Are you fetching them their newspaper, too?"

"You asshole. . . !" She shrieked, finally finding the strength to rip her arm away. "You. . . just. . . don't. . . get it! The world is different for you then it is for me! I'm not leading the life I wanted, you're right - you all are! But I'm not hating the one I am living! J - just stop psychoanalysing me like you have the degree to do it! And you think you knew me? Hah! I've kept secrets from you for years that you'll never know about!"

The comment did throw him for a moment, but it wasn't long before his expression stating he'd get the truth out of her was back on his face again. He didn't try to grab her arm again, but he did look her in the eyes in a way that almost scared her.

"Secrets, huh? Good to know. . . but for now, I just want to know what you've been keeping from me since yesterday."

"You wanna know so bad?! Fine; Ash, I'm going home!" She finished, turning tail and running back to his house.

Ash cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled after her, "Fine, I'll meet you there in a couple minutes!" And then he started walking.

OoO

Misty liked to think that, while Ash had made that wry joke, he understood what she meant when she said she was leaving him. She liked to think, also, after that argument, that it was all his fault.

He was the reason she was going back to Cerulean. He made her miserable and she couldn't stand to be around him and his personality for that much longer. He was an idiot who gave her no alternative and so she had to go back. . . Misty almost smiled at how she could so easily place the blame on him; and as she shuffled through her pockets to find the extra key Ash had given her to his front door; as she went inside, turned and locked it, and then jumped the stairs two at a time; and as she stumbled into her room, partially out of breath. . . she continued to think those thoughts like a mantra and it soothed her own mind into accepting all that was happening.

The point of heading straight up here was not to change her clothes or to dry off, but to immediately continue the packing she'd started this morning. She could still hear the slightly muffled rumbles of thunder and the pitter-patter of rain on the rooftops, and she could see a random crash of lightning every once in awhile, but she figured Ash would be okay. She'd made it back safely, right?

But still she sat there, and she only started to move when she heard the front door downstairs creaking open and then slamming shut again a moment later. She figured Ash - annoyed, disgruntled, angry, or something like it - would simply head into the kitchen to grab something to eat, turn on the television, or run upstairs and into his room to do what she should be doing now - trying to prevent herself from getting sick. So it was a shock when she heard his voice from behind her again.

"Oh, so this is what you meant." Ash said, glancing around at the five or so bags already half packed.

"Yeah, this; can you go away and let me finish packing now?"

". . . You know, I may not know all the secrets you've been keeping from me since we were kids, but I do know how to make you talk. All I have to do is say the right thing to set you off and. . . bingo." He snapped his fingers for added effect and sat down on her bed. "I can almost make you say anything. It's a cool power to have, isn't it, Misty?"

Her response was to hit him upside the head with one of her shampoo bottles.

"Okay. . . maybe I deserved that." Ash coughed, massaging his forehead after the assault. "Still, I'm right, aren't I? How else were you gonna come out and tell me what was happening? If I'd left it to you, you'd have stayed silent and just gone when it was time, wouldn't you? You never say what's bothering you when it comes to things like this, unless you have no other choice. Don't you remember Viridian City? You could have told me straight out that you didn't wanna go but instead you just called me an idiot and ran off."

It was Misty's turn to be red in the face, and she followed it through well enough, fighting so that he wouldn't see it the way she knew it was there.

"I guess you have a point. . . but I didn't want to tell you anyway."

"Why not? You don't think I have a right to know?" Ash didn't sound so insulted as much as he sounded. . . hurt.

"No, it's not that! It's just. . . telling someone else, let alone someone who'd be one of the most effected by it. . . it would just make it all too real. I'd have no choice but to take it as fact that my stay here is over. And I'd have to leave."

Ash didn't reply to that and she turned to glance at him and see why. . . only to recognize the slightly clueless expression on his face.

"You don't wanna go back home to your sisters?" He asked, his mouth gaping half-open and Misty couldn't help but go red again. She didn't think he would catch on to it on his own; he had never seemed so smart about those things before.

"Well, I mean. . . it's not like I'd never want to see them again but. . . I'm no idiot. I know what I like, what I appreciate, and spending all day, everyday, as their lapdog isn't it."

"You think they think of you as their lapdog?"

"Well. . . no, not that either. I just know that Daisy's the only one who realizes what a hardship it is to be taken so lightly when I do so much, and. . . well, they are grown women, right?"

Misty was suddenly horrified. What if Ash was disgusted by the fact that she would abandon her siblings the way she felt she had to? What if he couldn't bear to let her stay here in his house for the rest of the day, let alone the next few while she planned her ride back home? He'd never had brothers or sisters of his own before, so Misty figured he'd probably always wanted at least one - (one of those, 'you want what you can't have' situations) - but then again, he had no idea how those types of relationships could play out, years later after growing up with those brothers or sisters a person might have wanted so much.

"Myst. . ." She clenched her eyes shut. It was coming. "I'm sorta proud of you for admitting to that."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, Ash, but that's just how it goes someti -- what?"

"I mean, you love your sisters, but you know what they're doing to you is no good for you, and you know you want more. I already told you that I think you're running yourself down doing what you do in Cerulean, and that they're contributing to it so carelessly. . . They are your sisters, yeah, but if they treat you like that then they don't deserve to keep depending on you the way they are.

"And you may love them, and they may love you - who am I to say otherwise? But they need a lesson on what love really is, I think."

"What love. . . really is. . ." Misty quoted breathlessly. Ash made more sense now than he ever had before.

"Yeah, like how you're my best friend, and I love you, too. That's why I let you come here rather than expecting you to put out money you didn't have to go away and stay at a hotel. I didn't expect you to start work to pay off your stay, but I also didn't expect you to want me to be your slave-boy while you recovered. I think you respect that, right?"

"What. . . ? Ah, yeah, of course." For whatever reason, Misty couldn't help but turn red when he said that first part of the statement.

"And that's a kind of love, too. It's kinda like. . . how I think that you should go for what you think is right for you. And if that so dictates something like. . . say. . . my agreeing that you could stay here with me even longer than was planned before so that you can think about what that is - what you really want for you - then. . . okay."

Misty blinked. She must have missed something.

"What?"

"I said you can stay."

". . . You mean it's okay? You're okay with that? You want me to stay?" She asked, each sentence leaving her tone to get more excited.

"Yeah, it's okay; I'm thinking that I can live with you for a little while longer. . . and maybe. . . I might want you here with me."

That line had effected her in a way she hadn't expected. Her eyes watered and she threw to the side the pair of pants she'd been spending the past ten minutes trying to fold up. Unsuccessful, obviously, she ignored it and jumped Ash, sending him backwards and banging his head into the wall. Admittedly, and let it be news to anyone else in that position from there on in, there was not much space between Ash's seat on the twin-sized bed and the wall behind him.

". . . I'd say ouch," he grunted a moment later, "but I don't think it would matter."

"Awe, you'll live." She replied, fluffing his already overly-fluffed hair.

Misty Waterflower, age twenty-four, who had once been a young girl with three older sisters who grew up to take advantage of her existence. She'd had a best friend since her preteen days, one who'd been a young boy and who had grown into a young man, his fairytale personality never changing.

And at age twenty-four, a young adult woman, Misty Waterflower had learned that she was still growing, and still being taught lessons.

Today's hadn't hit her until just now, but she knew it was important enough in any case. . . it was about the life she'd always hoped to be living, and how it may have finally come together a bit in her favor.

Fairytales were wonderful things. Told to young children, they taught those children that dreams come true, and to fight for what they believed was right. But it was something she hadn't understood until now, that those happy endings she'd always loved - that she'd always hoped for herself - were not so unrealistic as they were. . . not as spectacular.

Because it was the best fairytales that didn't end with a happy ever after. Instead, they ended with a. . .

. . . To be continued.

OoOoO

Notes - Whew! I worked really hard on this chapter. Over the past week, I've squeezed out every last ounce of inspiration I could to put this together the way I've dreamed of it being, just so I could get it out before tomorrow (Saturday). And I've succeeded! Unfortunately, I'm not sure if it's done the way I'd been wanting it, but as long as my readers are happy, then I guess I'll live. It's because of these hopes for perfection in this chapter in particular that I'm hoping all reviews be. . . critical. I'm not saying flame me to hell because I'm a masochist and that's all I want. Believe me, when I get that rare review written by a person who knows their grammar and punctuation, and who tells me that this is one of the best fics they've ever read, I glow inside. And outside. And I squeal. So I do like those types of comments, but if you really need to tell me that you think something would have been better off put a different way, or something like that, tell me exactly what you mean. Okay? Okay.

Also, I guess I should apologize that I waited so long to update at all. Partially, it's because I've had some things due at school (like a really big Psychology paper), but another part of me put it on hold again purposefully to see if I could get enough reviews to make the total equal out to those on my other fic, "Illicit Saints." I think that one less than my other one. . . I can live with it. So sorry that I was selfish like that, but I couldn't help it. -apologetic smile- Forgive me?

Although I did make it worth it; meaning that this chapter is about three thousand words longer than the last. YAY!