Disclaimer: All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies. All portions of the Pokémon universe/worlds/characters are the property of The Pokémon Company, Nintendo, Creatures Inc., and GAME FREAK Inc. This story is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written for my own enjoyment. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites.

AN: This latest revisions of this story have been self-beta'd; so there may still be occasional grammatical or spelling errors that crop up every now and then and for those I apologize in advance.


Chapter 7: Cooperation of a Sort

Saturday Morning, August 10, 2002
Ketchum Home, Pallet Town
Kanto Region

The remnants of a strange yet soothing dream slowly faded from the boy's conscious mind as he gradually woke up. Unconsciously, he burrowed deeper into the bed as he fought against waking up because he felt so warm and safe. He frowned and voiced a protest when his pillow wiggled out from under him only to bolt up in fear as the unnaturalness of moving pillows sank into his sleep fogged mind.

Heart pounding wildly, the boy stared wide-eyed at the frozen yellow creature that he'd been using as a pillow just seconds earlier. He was so focused on the miniature monster that he didn't even register the arms that had tightened around his waist as his mattress shifted beneath him. His body began trembling with fright as the creature slowly climbed higher and he was forced to crane his neck awkward in order to track its progress across the back of the couch.

As he twisted around to keep an eye on the animal, a groan issued forth from somewhere just beneath him. Bewildered, the boy jerked back around and met the sleepy brown eyes of the younger man from before staring up at him, the one called Ash. It was at this point that he registered the fact that the man was holding him in his arms and soon came to the conclusion that he'd been sleeping on top of the man. At the same time, his outburst from the night before came barreling back from the depths of his sub-consciousness and he immediately began to apologize and beg for forgiveness while trying to push free from the man's grasp.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I'm sorry, please, don't be mad. Please don't lock me in my cupboard! I'm really, really sorry and it won't happen again, I promise. Just please don't…"

When he felt one of the man's hands run up his back, he immediately stopped speaking and froze in place. He fully expected to be given the spanking of a lifetime or to be cuffed upside the back of his head before being locked in his cupboard for the rest of the day (forgetting that he was no longer at his aunt and uncle's house). Squeezing his eyes shut, he held his breath and waited fearfully for the expected blow to land only to twitch in surprise as the hand simply ran soothingly up and down his back. Gradually, the pounding in his ears subsided enough for him to make out the soft shushing hum that the man was emitting as he gently rubbed his back.

The calming touch conflicted with everything the boy had previously experienced in his short life. His aunt and uncle had never consoled him in such a gentle manner before; the two adults that had raised him for most of his life were far more likely to express their displeasure through touch rather than offer comfort. That's if they even bothered to touch him at all. So, just the thought of being comforted, by a complete stranger no less, baffled the child as he held himself perfectly still. The fact that part of him wished the man would never stop scared him even more and sent a tremor through his small body. He knew better than to think that the man cared for him; he'd been told just how worthless and unlovable he was time and time again.

Tentatively the boy opened his eyes to stare down at the man and was more than a bit perplexed to find the man was smiling up at him now. Frowning, he strained back against the arms that were holding him to test how securely he was being held in place only to feel the arms move away from him completely. The sudden change made him stop in place and tilt his head to the side in a silent question; his green eyes wide with uncertainty and trepidation.

"You are free to get up, I was just protecting my ribs," Ash explained. "You have sharp elbows."

"Pika!" the small yellow monster called out in seeming agreement from the top of the couch.

The sharp reminder of what woke him up broke the fragile peace of the moment as the boy darted off his awkward perch and practically flew over the top of the coffee table. He was halfway to the front door when he glanced over his shoulder to find the man just a few steps behind him, giving chase. He turned back around just in time to slide around a delicate looking table standing directly in his path, only to end up over balancing onto his side as he continued to slide across the polished wood floors. Bracing his arms protectively over the top of his head, he closed his eyes and held his breath as he slammed into one of the kitchen chairs.

When he opened his eyes up once again it was to find the man standing above him with his hands on his hips shaking his head back and forth. "It's never a dull moment with you around, is it kid?"

The boy just blinked a few times before going limp as he let his head thump back to the floor with a dull thunk. "The monsters scare me," he admitted weakly. "I don't want them to hurt me again."

"Monsters? What monsters?"

"All the monsters. Those ugly birds, the shock-mouse, the big hungry dragon, the devil-man, and the blue thing with the flower and green ropes; the big ones keep trying to eat me and the little ones all keep hurting me."

"Most of those creatures you just named are just Pokémon; they may be big and look a touch scary but they won't hurt you. I have no idea what you mean by shock-mouse and devil-man though. And the birds, well those were wild Pokémon and they only attacked because you were in their meadow. Everyone knows you can't walk through Berry Meadow alone without your own Pokémon – or I thought everyone knew that. Not all Pokémon will attack people on sight though, especially not those that have been raised by trainers."

"They do too!" the boy shouted in protest. "The yellow rat 'lect'cuted me! And the nasty dragon tried to eat me!"

"Lect'cuted? What do you… oh! Electrocuted? How…? Oh, Pikachu must have been too close to you when he shocked the spearows to chase them off. He didn't do it on purpose; his Thunder Attacks are pretty powerful because he's been with me for such a long time. Charizard, the orange dragon Pokémon, wasn't trying to eat you either. He was just curious about you and wanted to be introduced. All my Pokémon love being around children and the children usually love them too. Surely you've seen other Pokémon that you must like, right?"

"I don't like them. I've never seen monsters like them before."

"Never seen…?" Ash repeated in shock. "You've never seen any Pokémon before? That's… that's impossible. Pokémon live all around us, there isn't a river, lake, forest, meadow, desert, or mountain cave that doesn't have some type of Pokémon living in it. There are even wild Pokémon that live in the cities and towns. How could you not have seen one before?"

Before the child could open his mouth to reply, Delia walked in the front door shaking dirt and mud from her shoes. The older woman smiled when she looked in their direction and asked Ash to make breakfast for the two of them before ordering the boy to go take the bath he'd avoided the night before.

The boy grimaced and scrambled to his feet to comply, knowing it would be better to do as asked instead of risking the woman's ire (something he'd learned the hard way living with his aunt). As he headed towards the stairs, he happened to get a glimpse of Mr. Mime entering the house behind Delia and he let out a strangled scream before he fled to the upper floor at a dead run. The devil-man scared him more than the shock-mouse did; because his relatives had frequently terrorized the small boy with the most horrible stories about the things the devil did to 'freaks' like him.

He didn't stop running until he reached the end of the upstairs hallway. Finding no way to escape, the boy swung back around to face the direction from which he had come and dropped to the floor to see if the scary monster man had followed him. After several minutes, when it became clear that he was still all alone in the hallway, he slowly relaxed and climbed back up to his feet, though he could still feel his heart pounding away like a jackhammer inside of his chest.

Timidly, he edged over to the left side of the hall and inched forward to the closest door. A quick peek inside revealed a girly bedroom with lots of flowers and frills. Shifting the other side of the hall way he checked the next door and found an office with lots of books and more flowers. He checked the rest of the rooms leading off the hall in the same fashion until he found the bathroom.

Slipping inside, he closed the door tightly and checked the handle for a lock, only to find that the door didn't have one. Nervously, he watched the door for a full five minutes until he heard Delia hollering up the stairs that she couldn't hear the water running. Jumping at the reminder of why he was in the bathroom in the first place, the boy abruptly turned away from the door and made his way over to the rather ordinary blue bathtub that was in the room.

A short search turned up the plug for the drain and after jamming it into place he turned on the cold water and intently watched the water cascade into the tub. When the water level reached approximately two inches in depth, the boy turned off the water and searched for a wash cloth. After finding one, he set it on the edge of the tub before stripping out of his borrowed clothes so he could climb inside.

Teeth chattering loudly from the chill of the water, the boy meticulously used his hands to get his entire body wet. Next, he picked up the bar of soap he spotted in the soap dish and got it wet so he could lather his hands enough to wash his arms and legs. He was just finishing his first leg when the door unexpectedly burst open as Delia stepped inside the bathroom.

"I didn't hear you fill the tub so I thought you might need a bit…" Delia trailed off as she took in the sight of the boy shivering in just a few inches of water. "What are you…?" Stepping forward she reached in and tested the water only to gasp in shock at how cold it was. "Why didn't you use the hot water, dear? You're freezing!"

"Not 'lowed," the boy muttered, "it's 'gainst the rules."

"Against the rules!? What? I don't… how could… why!?" Delia spluttered indignantly. "Never mind, I don't think I want to know. Just… just… while you are here, with us, you are required to take baths with warm or hot water. And bubbles. Bubbles are mandatory for all proper baths. Budge away from the faucet, I'll fix the water for you this time, but I expect you to remember to do it properly when you have your bedtime bath tonight, so pay attention. First, we turn on the hot water to warm up the pipes. Then we slowly add the cold water until the temperature is just perfect."

"While the water is running, we add a full cap – and I do mean a completely full cap, no scrimping allowed – of the bubble mix and you pour it right under the running water to get the best suds. See how nicely they fluff up? Now, did you find the extra towels?" Wide eyed, he nodded stiltedly as he reached out and pointed at the wash cloth with one trembling finger. "Oh, good, you got a face cloth out already but you should have taken a towel too."

Completely bewildered, the boy watched as Delia pulled out one of the extra large white towels and set it on the seat cover of the toilet before dunking the face cloth (the one the boy had intended on drying himself off with) into the frothy water and lather it with soap before proceeding to gently scrub his back with said cloth. When she finished, she turned off the faucet now that the water level reached well above the child's belly button with the bubbles tickling his armpits. She took a moment to rinse the soap from his back before she leaned back and eyed him critically.

"One last thing, I fully expect you to spend at least an hour in here splashing around, soaking the floor and getting the bubbles stuck all over the walls. I will be most disappointed if you try to sneak out of the water early or refuse to enjoy the bath as it is meant to be enjoyed. I'll come and check on you when your time is up with a fresh change of clothes for you."

And then she left, gathering up the clothes he'd been wearing on her way out, leaving him with his mouth hanging open in shock. She had ordered him to make a mess and have fun in the tub? She wanted him to use lots of water, lots of hot water? And bubbles? She was making him use extra bubbles in his bath? Lifting up a bubble coated hand he stared at it in wonder. Not even his cousin had ever been allowed or encouraged to make a mess in the bathroom. The bathroom, in his relative's house, was the second most sacred room in the house; the most important room naturally being the kitchen.

A hysterical giggle bubbled up in his chest as he slowly reached out with his suds covered hand and smeared the bubbles all over the pale blue tiles that covered the walls that butted up against three sides of the tub. He half cringed after he finished, expecting to hear his aunt storm into the room and begin screeching at him. When nothing bad happened, the boy lifted his foot above the steaming water and let it drop back with a wimpy splash. The waves that small movement made rocked the boy gently and caused the bubbles to hit him in the face.

He didn't feel brave enough to soak the floor as he'd been instructed to but he did end up painting several foam pictures on the longest wall. Huge lumpy mountains of suds filled the corners and clung to the faucet. He even had a jaunty pointed hat on top of his head that wobbled dangerously from side to side each time he turned his head. He also had the tiniest of smiles on his face, the first one he'd worn since he'd been attacked by the spearows.

At the end of the hour Delia walked in and studied his half-hearted mess with a jaundiced eye before telling him to pull the plug out of the drain so she could help him rinse off the remaining suds. She also told him she was proud of him and the attempt he made at making a mess but at the same time told him she expected a bigger mess that evening when he had another bath before bed. Once free from suds, Delia wrapped the thick towel around the boy and lifted him out of the tub. She then took a second towel and used it to dry his damp hair before she told him to finish drying off and get dressed so he could eat breakfast.

Downstairs he found Ash sitting at the table with an odd hand held machine that was talking out loud. In front of the chair beside the man, there was a plate of waffles smothered in maple syrup with whipped cream, sliced bananas, and strawberries on top. There was also a frosted glass of milk and a tall glass of orange juice sitting beside the plate. When he reached the table, the boy hesitated. He didn't see a plate of dry toast or a bowl of thin, bland porridge, the type of food his relatives usually fed him. In fact, the only food visible was the delicious looking stack of waffles that looked more like an ice cream sundae than a meal.

"Come on, don't be shy, your breakfast is getting cold and my special waffle sundaes taste best when they're still warm," Ash advised as he glanced up from the device to look at the boy while he patted the chair beside him.

Timidly the boy crept around the table and slid into the indicated chair and took a good long look at the glorious treat sitting in front of him. In an awed whisper, he nervously asked, "This is all for me?"

"Just for you. I already had one of my own."

Picking up the fork he speared one of the banana slices swimming in syrup and whipped cream and took a small bite. The boy was in heaven. It tasted even better than the sweet berry like fruits he'd found in the meadow that first day. Next he sampled a bite of strawberry and moaned rapturously as he chewed slowly. Completely unaware of the scrutiny that the man beside him directed his way, the boy continued to nibble on his breakfast with tightly controlled gusto. He made each bite he took a random combination of fruit, cream, syrup, and crispy waffle that was savored in near silent bliss.

He'd eaten nearly a full quarter of the large meal before his tummy felt uncomfortably full. Never before had he ever eaten so much in one sitting. In fact, the sugary-sweet concoction was beginning to upset his stomach. Closing his eyes, the boy bent over to rest his head on the edge of the table while his hands instinctively wrapped protectively around his churning stomach. Huge tears pooled behind his eyelids as he desperately fought the growing nausea.

Ash was beside his chair in a heartbeat, the man's calloused hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. "Easy there, Champ, slow deep breaths and try to relax."

Two minutes later, the boy lost the battle and emptied his stomach down onto the floor. The man never flinched as he was splashed by the mess, nor did he yell at the boy for wasting the food. Instead, the man simply continued to comfort the boy as his body gradually stopped shaking and heaving.

"I'm so sorry, Buddy, I didn't know the waffles would be too much for your tummy to handle. Come here; let me get you cleaned up."

The brief warning was all he got as strong arms lifted him out of the chair and carried him over to the sink. Confused green eyes watched as the man ran the water until it was warm and wet the corner of a dish towels that he then used to gently wipe the boy's face and chin clean, taking careful care to also clean the sticky remains of syrup and dried cream from his hands as well. Next he lowered the boy onto his feet and helped him step out of the soiled pants before lifting him back up into his arms.

Ash placed the boy in the corner of the couch and wrapped him up in one of the blankets they'd used the night before, and told him to wait there while he went back into the kitchen to clean up the mess. The boy watched the man as best he could without his glasses, which wasn't easy because everything was pretty fuzzy around the edges, and the further away what he saw was, the blurrier it appeared to be. He was also confused as to why he wasn't being required to clean up his own mess.

About twenty minutes later, the man was back at his side with a plate of lightly buttered toast, a few plain strawberries, and a glass of water. "If your tummy has settled enough, I'd like you to try eating a little something again."

"I'm sorry I wasted your food."

"Hey, none of that now; it wasn't your fault. No one is blaming you for being sick to your stomach because the food was too rich for your tummy after you were ill for so long. We'll just have to be a little more conservative with how much sugar or heavy cream gets put in your food for the time being."

Under the watchful eyes of Ash, the child slowly nibbled away at two slices of toast, a single strawberry, and drank about a third of the water. Thankfully, the man didn't try to talk or force him into finishing the rest.


AN 12-06-12: This chapter has just been edited to correct a few minor punctuation errors, a grammatical error or two, clean up of a few sentences in order to smooth out a few awkward areas, break a few paragraphs down so as to improve readability, and had the date and place stamps added to the top of each section to allow for easier tracking of the timeline.