Chapter 13:

Strawberries mean love
What's it made of?
Think you need love
You can feel love

"Strawberries Mean Love"-Strawberry Alarm Clock

The rest of the walk home, Vince rode on his friend's shoulder, rolling the black, white, and grey ball around in his hands. No matter how much he examined its details and sifted through his memory, he struggled to convince himself that it was real, that it held a living creature. A pikachu. One he'd called his father. Father. The very thought of the word still sent a chill down his spine, and he'd spoken it. To a pikachu. And not only had his voice betrayed him, but it seemed his emotions had—and were—as well. Despite not being aware of the pikachu's existence earlier that day, he couldn't help feeling a strong attachment to him. He replayed meeting the pikachu over and over again in his mind, a strange warmth undercut by a familiar, cold detachment.

His footing violently shook, causing him to drop the ball so he could grab hold of Chris's jacket with his forepaws. A spike of fear filled him as he realized what he'd done, quickly followed by immense relief once he saw it fall into Chris's waiting hand. "You okay?" He nodded his head, looking up to see the stairs of his porch. They were already at his house and he hadn't even noticed. Chris went the rest of the way up the stairs, Vince clutching his shoulder a little tighter. An ear-piercing, shrill scream tensed his every muscle, and he could tell the same had happened to Chris. They both immediately recognized the voice. Chris dashed to the door, slamming into it when the knob wouldn't turn, the impact nearly knocking Vince to the ground. A faint glow appeared around the knob until Vince heard a click and Chris threw the door open. Vince jumped down to the ground and dashed into the house, hoping he could get to his mother in time. The living room barren, he sprinted to the kitchen, paws skittering in the transition from carpet to tile, and found his mother and brother standing panicked around the kitchen table, surrounded by various boxes. Only a few steps behind him, Chris ran into the room, asking, "What happened? Is everyone okay?" as he skidded to a halt.

The air held tension, self-sufficient, deafening silence muting any attempts at speech. After it hung for a moment too long, Peter broke it with a chuckle that slowly evolved into laughter. Vince tilted his head to the side as confusion replaced concern and Peter struggled to contain himself. "We're just playing boardgames," he managed between chuckles, "She screamed because she rolled well." His mother then joined in on the laughter, while Vince and Chris shared a sigh of relief. As the laughter gradually died down and the commotion wore off, Vince got a better look at the room. The boxes surrounding the table were all rectangular, about the same shape and size, a few outliers here and there, and despite having bold fonts proved a bit difficult to read. After some mental effort, he managed to read a few names. From "Trainers of Cataan" to "Let's Fish for Magikarp" to the currently open "Poké-opoly," they were all cheesy, pokémon versions of board games he recognized. His attention shifted back to Peter when asked, "What's Vince wearing?"

Vince rolled back onto his hind-legs, fiddling with the excess fabric on his sleeves. "It's a hoodie I found in a pet store, I thought it would help with the cold, and the box said it helps keep pichu from shocking themselves." The realization that he hadn't shocked himself since he put the hoodie on replaced his resentment that the jacket he wore came from a pet store. He didn't even remember telling Chris about accidentally hurting himself with his electricity. A stronger sense of gratitude pulled his mouth into a smile. "What have you guys been up to?" Vince made a mental note to thank Chris again later, but a pat to his head let him know the message had already been received.

This time, Vince's mother answered. "We found a bunch of board games in the closet that all seem to be… different versions of ones we've already seen." Her eyes drifted to the window letting in orange light and gained a look of worry. "It's pretty late, are you two hungry?" Before either could respond, she was already up and on her way to the fridge. "Here, you three start playing, and I'll make some supper for us." Robbed of an alternative, the two made it over to the table and sat down, Chris in a chair, Vince hopping up to the table itself, figuring feet off the table wouldn't apply to someone barely a foot tall.

After deciding to keep on playing "Poké-opoly," Peter started dealing the cash around the table, but a sliver of uncertainty slipped into Vince's mind as he struggled to keep track of the numbers in his mind. He counted the pile of tens, which seemed easy enough, but finding their combined value, keeping that number in his mind and then repeating the process for the pile of fifties put him at his limit. After failing to count the fifties pile for the third time, he looked up meekly at Chris (already perceiving his struggle and watching it unfold) for some kind of help. Chris forced a smile, twinge of concern just barely hidden from Vince, and pat his head. "Here, let's play on a team together, that cash can be for your mom when she joins." With a sigh, he gave a dejected nod and shuffled over to Chris's side of the board. When he got there and sat down, Chris placed a pencil and paper in front of him. Confused, Vince looked up for an explanation. "You'll help me keep track of how much money I have." He fidgeted with the excess fabric on his sleeves and looked down at the pencil, face contorted into an expression of uncertainty.

His mom interrupted by placing two plates, each holding a sandwich and chips, in front of Peter and Chris, leaving and then soon returning with her own plate and a bowl she placed in front of Vince. Expecting to see a bowl of kibble, the mix of leaves, greens (at least, they would be if he could see color), nuts, and apple slices pleasantly surprised him. He and the other two boys thanked her for the meal and the four started playing. At the beginning, eating took most of Vince's attention, but as the game went on, his bowl grew empty, and a few successful calculations bolstered his confidence, he became more and more invested in playing. Adding or subtracting took effort and some thinking every time, and maneuvering the pencil proved equally as difficult, but his ability to eventually do it at all put a smile on his face. A few turns in, at Chris's suggestion, he started rolling one of the die when the turn was theirs, pulling him even more into the game, even growing excited enough to cheer or cringe at a few particularly dicey rolls.

Had he stopped to think about it, he likely would have been embarrassed about getting so worked up over a simple board game, but the smiles and shared jubilance of his friend and family prevented his mind from wandering towards any disparaging thoughts and kept his grin stretched from ear to ear.

Gradually, however, his excitement along with the hectic day's events began to take their toll, piling first onto his paws, so he threw the die with less and less vigor until he didn't throw it at all; his mind so he calculated the math slower and slower until he didn't calculate at all; his eyes so they drooped lower and lower until they weren't open at all and he drifted off into a pleasant slumber.

A familiar, squeaky voice interrupted the soundless sea of sleep. "Vince? Vince, Vince!" Sleep and he had become fast friends the past two days, so he'd had plenty of time to get used to talking to Short Circuit in his dreams.

"Hey!" he said, "Yeah, it's me." An uncertain, worried silence brought an air of unease.

Short Circuit's tone carried a careful and worried feeling when he asked, "Where's my dad? What happened to him?" The words cut Vince deep. "Is he in that ball? Can you get him out? I want to see him! I miss him!"

"I…" He paused, trying to compose himself fully. "Your dad is fine, Chris captured him in that pokéball. I—"

"So, I can see him?" the chu interrupted, voice brimming with excitement. Vince wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell the boy that seeing his father was easy as pressing a button. In a sense, it was. Push the button on the front of the pokéball and a beam of energy later, the boy's father would be standing right there.

But the heartwarming reunion would destroy Vince. "I can't." His voice shook, barely able to stay together for even two words. The idea of hugging somebody, calling them "daddy," tore him apart. Short Circuit's next words did so even more.

"But he's my dad!" Years of wanting to see his own father again all happened at once. He didn't need to empathize with Short Circuit's pain, he felt it himself: that desperate desire for reunion. He couldn't put someone else through that.

"I… I'll try…" he could feel his slumber fade. "I'll try my best." Sorrow and uncertainty melded together as he slowly rejoined with consciousness, putting his head in a murky confusion as he heard someone speaking.

A familiar voice called his name, tone delicate and sweet, but still relatively loud and low. He covered his ears and closed his eyes tighter, groggily hoping for a few more moments of sweet, sweet sleep. A hand poking and petting his back and more calls refused to let him, forcing him to roll over and push himself up to a slouched sitting position. Trying (and failing) to rub the sleep out of his eyes, he looked up to see Chris kneeling over him. Too drowsy to formulate a sentence asking why Chris woke him up, he just tilted his head and waited for an explanation (probably would have squinted to really drive the point home if his eyes weren't already half-shut). "Ready?" Chris asked, answering nothing.

Breaking eye contact with Chris, he rubbed both paws with his eyes and mumbled, "For what?" under his breath.

"To do what we got the supplies for yesterday," Chris started, a touch of confusion in his tone, "We'll take the orb back to where you found it and hope we can figure out how it works." Vince nodded, memory steadily coming back to him after he could finally keep his eyes open unassisted.

"Why so early, though?" he asked, looking up with droopy eyes.

Chris chuckled, humor replaced by confusion when he realized Vince wasn't kidding. "Vince, it's almost mid-day." Surprise popped his eyes open, then shifted to sheepish shame, embarrassment bouncing off his cheeks. A tightness in his stomach accompanied by a loud growl sent even more sparks launching off his cheeks, embarrassment becoming humiliation from having the audacity to be hungry. After another fit of chuckles, Chris suggested, "So we'll head out after you grab some breakfast?" Vince nodded and the two headed towards the kitchen. After a few steps, his empty stomach pushed his paws to move faster and faster, running ahead of his friend, disregarding his family in the living room as he dashed by, and realizing too late that he needed help getting food as he stood helpless in front of the fridge. Luckily, Chris followed only a few steps behind. "What do you want to eat?"

"He's going to say 'apple,'" his brother interrupted. Vince wanted to deny the claim, but the sparks bouncing down his cheeks, and the fact he was standing in front of the fridge made his intentions clear. "There's food for him in the pantry," Peter explained, stepping around the other two boys and opening the pantry.

As he reached down to the bag of kibble, Vince shouted, "No!" tone and volume reaching Peter despite the language barrier. The two stared down at him, waiting for an explanation, their gaze deflating his righteous fury and replacing it with insecurity. "It's… it's not…" he stammered, "human food." He began to fiddle with the excess fabric at the end of his sleeves while Chris translated for Peter.

"Well, you aren't…" Peter started, stopping when he realized the harm telling his little brother he wasn't human would do. "You can't eat the same things people do." Vince continued turning the excess fabric around in his paws, trying to think up a counterargument. "What you eat isn't what makes you human." His brother knelt down, putting a compassionate hand on his head. "The pi-chew gives you all the nutrients your body needs. That's important because we don't really know what you need to eat right now." Vince racked his brain for an argument, but his inability to make one and the ever-growing hunger in his stomach made him give in and nod his head.

While Peter grabbed a bowl and started filling it with the kibble, Vince felt Chris pat his head, lean down and whisper, "I'll grab you an apple for the road." It was a minor consolation, but helped nonetheless. Peter placed the bowl in front of him and he started eating. He started at a steady pace, but his ravenous hunger steadily grew until he buried his face in the kibble, filling his stomach and emptying the bowl at a breakneck pace. After reaching the bottom, he rolled back and sat with a full, content feeling in his belly. "Ready to go, now?" Chris asked.

Vince's mom, silent observer up to this point, made her presence known. "Go where?" Vince hopped to his feet and scampered over to greet her. She knelt and pat his head, not breaking eye contact with Chris, still waiting for an answer.

"We just want to look around some more and see all the changes." Not entirely untrue, but definitely far from honest.

"Is it safe out there?" she asked, voice laden with worry.

"Yeah," Chris replied suspiciously speedily. "There's hardly any people at all, and I picked up some stuff to deal with wild pokémon yesterday just in case." The mentioning of wild pokémon reminded Vince of his promise to Short Circuit, familiar fear and unease filling his mind.

He held his right arm in his left as his mom said, "Well, that's good to hear," worry still in her voice. She picked up Vince and pulled him into a hug that he returned as well as he could, being so small. After a moment, she pulled him away just a little so they could make eye contact. "Be safe, okay?" Vince nodded his head and gave an affirmative, "Pi!" in response with a smile. Another quick hug and she let him down.

With his feet on the ground, the threat of his promise loomed over his head once again. "Ready, Vince?" Chris asked. Vince nodded and headed towards him, getting a pat goodbye from his brother as he passed. The two headed out the front door and across the yard. Vince, so lost in his thoughts, didn't notice Chris stop and kneel until he called out, "Vince!" Finally noticing Chris wasn't right next to him anymore, he turned around and tilted his head. "What's wrong? Your thoughts sound troubled."

Vince rolled back on his hind-legs and started rolling the sleeves around in his paws. "I made a promise with Short Circuit," he mumbled. Chris remained silent, and a quick glance up let Vince know he was waiting for more information. "I… told him I'd let him see his dad," he answered reluctantly, eyes intently examining the ground.

The tense silence that followed told Vince Chris knew how difficult the promise would be to keep. After a time, Chris broke the silence. "You won't have to do it alone." Feeling a supportive hand pat his head, Vince looked up at his friend. "I'll be with you. I'll do whatever I can to help make this easier for you." The comforting words managed to give Vince a shallow smile. "It'll be all right," Chris said as he stood. "Let's have the meeting once we make it to the woods, all right?" Vince nodded his head, and the two headed off, Vince taking the lead by a hair to show the way.

Even though he'd walked the same path several times, a few warped landmarks and his drastically different point of view brought an air of doubt as he went along the path. But experience won out in the end, and he managed to find the break in the fencing that he'd always go through to enter the woods. Vince hopped nimbly through and didn't even think to stop and wait for Chris until he heard a crash, thud, and torrent of swears. Though he had the best intentions at heart when he turned around, seeing the crumpled mess of his friend flail on the ground with his foot stuck in the fence pushed him into a fit of laughter.

Initially, he tried to hold back his laughter, but it wasn't very long until he laughed so hard he couldn't stand. "All right, all right," Chris grumbled, "Laugh it up." A few crunches of grass underfoot, and Vince could tell Chris was standing over him, but it still took him several giggles before he could compose himself. Finally able to sit up, he looked up to Chris's frustratedly amused expression, unable to help a few more giggles. "Are you done?" He nodded his head, one last fit of chuckles escaping his lips.

His humor turned to confusion when Chris sat down next to him. He tilted his head to the side, then his eyes popped open with realization once he saw the pokéball in Chris's hand. A fresh, familiar uncertainty clouded the last bit of laughter that lingered in his eyes. "Ready?" Nodding his head, he scooted closer to Chris, taking what little comfort he could in the warmth coming off his friend's leg.

One click, a flash of light, and there he stood. Unfortunately for Chris, the pokéball had reassembled him exactly as he was when he had captured the pikachu: tensed and ready for battle. Before either Chris or Vince could respond, a painful bolt of electricity engulfed Chris and the pikachu grabbed Vince and started dashing into the woods. Just as they passed the first few trees, Vince managed to regain enough composure to wriggle free and shout, "Wait!"

"What?" Vince fumbled into a standing position, heartbeat racing. When he got a look at the pikachu, head tilted in confusion, the same torrent of emotions from yesterday flooded his mind. Grief, love, loss, relief, fear, he had to shake his head to get some form of stillness in his mind.

He's not your father, he's Short Circuit's He made eye contact with the pikachu once more, face as worried and uncertain as ever. "He's my friend!" he shouted, pointing aggressively at Chris who had just recovered enough to stand.

The pikachu remained thoroughly unconvinced, eyes squinted in confusion. "He's predator! Big! Captured me!" For the first time, Vince heard the simple syntax he'd been making use of without his English thoughts filling in the gaps to make it smoother. Jarring as it was, he didn't have time to dwell on it.

"He's been keeping me safe," he tried to explain. For a moment, the pikachu's expression softened. In an instant, it hardened once again and he shoved Vince behind him, letting out a low growl towards Chris who had made the mistake of taking a cautious step in their direction. Feeling electricity build up in the air and predicting what he was preparing, Vince shouted, "Stop!" as he rushed to regain his footing and throw himself directly in front of the pikachu. Barely dodging another bat to the side, he managed to keep his position. "He's my friend!" he repeated, "He doesn't want to hurt us! Please listen!" The chaos catching up with his mental state had tears flooding his eyes.

The pikachu softened his expression from anger to concern. Seeing his son in tears must have been just enough to convince him. He wrapped his arms around Vince and sat back, cradling the teary-eyed pichu. Vince didn't even attempt to fight it, he didn't want to. While he'd gotten used to human contact, the touch of another chu held an innate comfort far greater than any he'd felt in the past few days. Father or not, the touch alone calmed him immensely. Steadily, a damp stream worked its way onto his head, and the sparing harsh breaths he felt in the pikachu's chest let him know he was crying, too. For what felt like an eternity, the two held each other in a warm embrace with a steady, damp stream evidence of the shared sorrow. He could actually hug someone, wrap his arms around them as they did the same, and the soft, warm fur rubbed against his own so nicely. A wash of relief fell from his eyes, dampening his fur and hoodie more and more.

Very slowly, very steadily, the tears began to slow, and the sobs became whimpers, and the two released in unison, an unspoken synchronization. "So happy to see you, son." The warm, low (for a chu) voice cut a hole through his heart.

He had to do it. "I'm…" he searched for the right words but couldn't find them. "I'm not," he whispered. He couldn't bear to look when the pikachu tilted his head. "I'm not Short Circuit." A light, nervous chuckle told him he had to keep explaining. "I look like him, but I'm somebody else. Something happened, and I changed into him."

The warmth of a paw on his head felt bittersweet. "Pichu. Not Ditto." He looked up to see an amused expression, and it broke his heart. Of course he wouldn't believe, what Vince had said was ridiculous, it probably sounded like a kid's ramblings about the imaginative adventures in the land of pretend.

With all the determination he could muster he hardened his expression and tried to be as serious as possible when he said, "I mean it." The amused expression wavered. "I'm Vince."

A fit of confused giggles pulled away all the determination Vince had been able to muster. "Right. Short Circuit." It was Vince's turn to be confused.

"No, I said I'm Vince, not Short—" a realization struck him like a ton of bricks. He said his name and Short Circuit repeatedly one after the other and found himself making the same sounds with both names. Rather, when he tried to say, "Vince," he would actually say, "Short Circuit," while thinking, "Vince." When he thought about it, the substitution made a lot more sense than the pichu language having a word for a human name, but it still shocked him he hadn't noticed it until now.

"Hey!" A concerned voice accompanied by paw gripping his shoulder pulled him out of his introspection. He looked up to see an expression of concerned bemusement. "All right?" He tried hard once again to steal himself, but the pikachu suddenly pulling him in close and growling at some creature behind him interrupted his train of thought.

An exasperated sigh preceded a tired plea, "Can you please convince him I can come over there?" Vince pushed against the grip, only a very little bit of pressure needed before he broke free. To his surprise, before he could urge the pikachu to calm down, the pikachu was already walking towards Chris, taking an aggressive stance a few feet away. He let the silence hang in the air. Not sure what to do, Chris hesitantly introduced himself. "I'm Chris." He knelt down very slowly and started extending his hand, quickly pulling it back when the pikachu growled. Another tense silence had Chris glancing back and forth between the two chu. After a few moments too long, he focused on Vince and asked, "What should I call him?"

Vince panicked for a moment, realizing he couldn't think of a name to call him, relief washing over him when the pikachu answered, "Ampaw." An expectant gaze from Chris confused Vince. He shrugged his shoulders and pointed at Ampaw.

"Vince, I can't understand him. But I can understand you," he sighed. Embarrassed, he quickly translated. Chris looked back at Ampaw, trying to keep a relaxed, unoffending smile. He started reaching for his backpack, but a growl from Ampaw let him know that was a bad idea. Slowly, he put his hands back in front of him. "Vince," he started, "Grab the snack from my backpack. It's in the side pocket." Vince nodded and scampered behind him, hopped up to the side pocket and fiddled with the zipper until he had just enough of an opening to stick his head in, grabbed the stem with his teeth and pulled the apple out. For a moment, he considered taking a few bites, but a harsh, "Vince!" stopped him. He begrudgingly brought the apple to Chris, a wave of disappointment filling him when Chris pulled the apple out of his paws. Slowly, carefully, Chris presented the apple to Ampaw who sniffed, poked, and cautiously took it.

After a few nibbles, Ampaw waved his paw at Vince, beckoning him over. Ecstatic, Vince dashed over and the two shared the apple. Ampaw, just barely more ravenous than Vince, managed to secure a slight majority of the portion over Vince, even continuing to eat once they reached the core. The few berry bushes he'd found along the way hadn't quite been enough to substitute what he would usually get at the colony. "See? I told you he's a friend!" Some mixture of being full of apple and seeing his son's grin put him at ease, letting a small smile crease his lips. He leaned over and touched his red patch to Vince's, causing an exchange of electricity as well as bouncing sparks. Vince leaned into the gesture, its meaning implanted into his subconscious.

He didn't reciprocate Ampaw suddenly pulling off his hoodie, trying in vain to grab hold of it as it was wrested from his grasp. "Hey! Stop!" he protested as Ampaw tossed it to the ground behind him. He tried to go pick it up, but Ampaw held him back.

"Bad. Blocks electricity," he explained. Vince wanted to argue that was the point of it but reasoned that Ampaw wouldn't change his mind. "Okay, time go home." He walked a few steps towards the forest before turning back and beckoning Vince.

No longer able to fidget with excess fabric, Vince simply held his right wrist while he tried to deliberate over how to respond. "I can't." As anticipated, Ampaw tilted his head to the side, awaiting an explanation. "I have to stay with Chris for now." Ampaw's expression hardened. "I… broke something, and I have to fix it." He broke eye contact when he saw Ampaw prepare an angry response.

"He'll be able to go back soon," Chris interrupted, "Don't worry. It won't be too long." Chris took a few steps forward and knelt down, somehow not showing any apprehension approaching a pikachu already prone to shocking him. The risk payed off; while Ampaw remained visibly frustrated, he begrudgingly returned to Vince's side. Vince nuzzled up to him, guilt deepening at the sight of further suffering. Ampaw wrapped an arm around him with a shallow smile.

No father wants his will denied, but for now, just being with (who he thought was) his son made him happy. Leaning his head on top of Vince's, he asked, "Play?" When it came to pichu, asking was usually just a formality, and the excitement immediately apparent on Vince's face almost proved the standard true. Yet, he just barely managed to keep control and resist answering by looking up at Chris, waiting for permission. The few seconds it took for Chris to translate his scattered and frantic thoughts felt like an eternity.

Chris finally, after two more torturous seconds, answered, "Sure, we've got time. Just stay close and don't get lost."

Before Chris had finished the first word, Vince had already unloaded a reserved shock into Ampaw, shouting, "Tag!" before scampering off as fast as his legs would take him, the pikachu not hesitating even a heartbeat to give chase.

A/N: This chapter was fun to write, giving Vince a bit of relief and fun. I've not really described excitement much before this chapter, and it was fun experimenting with ways to portray that.

I'm going to start responding to reviews at the ends of chapters because I really liked reading author responses to reviews when I first started reading fanfictions. I liked seeing the author's thought process and it's a nice way to give reviewers a shoutout. I'll be responding to them in chronological order, regardless of which chapter's being reviewed. I'll essentially just go point by point responding to a review, so you'll probably have to look at what I'm responding to for a good idea of what I'm saying. If you for whatever reason really don't want me to respond in a chapter update, just let me know in the review.

Thanks for reading! Shoot me a review if you have any thoughts, it really does mean a whole lot.

Review Responses:

Shadow of Antioch: Thanks for starting with a compliment! Honestly, I really don't have any idea how pacing works. I essentially just try to describe what happens in the order it does, but that's about all I know how to do. It also probably doesn't help that I take very frequent breaks when writing. Nice to know you'll keep reading, too. And don't worry, you're not the only one who uses species to determine what to read; just look at my followed/favorited stories and you'll see a trend.

LucidAura42: Yeah, I know a bit about music theory. Admittedly, I'm not really happy with how I wrote that. I kind of just threw around a bunch of vocabulary words, and it felt more like showing off that I know words rather than really describing Vince going through the creative process. As for Short Circuit and Vince both being conscious... you might think you want this, but... well, let's just wait and see.

cynsh: Hey, another music person! I do tend to over-describe, it's often due to a desire to keep my writing spicy and there's a lot I think I need to say. The beginning of chapter three is the culmination of a few things. For one, there were several weeks between my writing the end of two and the beginning of three, so I just didn't notice how similar they were while I wrote. Also, I wanted to emphasize Vince struggling to accept what's happening to him, so my thinking was it'd be a while before he could wake up without being extremely disoriented and going through the process of confirming he actually had transformed. The "atomic energy" bit was intentionally vague and confusing like you said. My intent was to put the reader in Vince's shoes (or, I suppose paws at this point in the narrative) in being confused and uncertain about what exactly he's looking at. Though, upon reflection, I may have overdone it a bit. As for the chapter titles, it's been bothering me, too. Initially, the naming convention was just using musical terms related to the number of the chapter, but that proved to be unsustainable. Now, I'm going to start naming the chapter after a song and open it with the lyrics I think are applicable. Still uncertain what I'll name 10-12, though, so I'm open to suggestions!