Here's chapter ten! Thank you all for sticking with me as long as you have! I know it's been a while, so I'm glad that you all think that this is worth waiting for.
Max
At three in the morning, the dream finally let her go. She didn't wake with a scream or a start, but was simply suddenly sleepless, looking up at the ceiling with a glazed eyed stare. Misty sat up slowly, looking around the room. Brock and Ash were sharing a king sized bed, each spread out and still not touching in the massive space. A small lump under their blanket moved up and down where Pikachu slept. She fell back once more, rubbing her eyes and groaning softly, realizing that sleep wouldn't come any time soon. Her hand reached to her left of the queen sized bed and worked her hand through the drawstring top of her backpack, tugging out her bathing suit and changing under the covers on the off chance one of the boys would stir at the noise she made. They didn't, of course. Not even a flick of an ear from Pikachu when she gave a little grunt and kicked off her covers, shivering in the cool night air.
Finally, her feet swung over the side and she stood, wandering out with a quiet click of the door behind her, loud enough to make an almost invisible twitch under the boys' sheets. She hadn't noticed, and doubted she would care if either of them did at this point. Her feet softly padded down the hall, toes curling into soft carpet as she went. As off as she was, she threw caution to the wind and pressed the down button on the elevator, the machine whispering into life with the quiet precision one only found in the highest quality hotels. She stepped inside, feet now slapping on the white marble, and let herself down to the ground floor, striding across the gorgeous lobby and pushing the doors open to the pool, wincing at the heavy scent of chlorine, and backed out. The ocean would be better – cold, sure, but so was her tank at home. Water gyms were in her blood for ages back, and the cold never bothered her.
Her still calloused feet, thankfully still sturdy despite her years off traveling, easily trudged across the concrete and asphalt. She didn't mind the small cuts on her feet from the rough surfaces, not when it changed to grass, not when it changed to the cool sand, not when it changed to the seawater that stung as it poured into every crevice. She had come down meaning to swim, but the gentle lapping of the water was soothing, and she felt much more comfortable just sitting down in the water.
"Misty, what's wrong?" Ash asked. His pikachu leapt into her lap, curling up happily despite the ocean that wet his fur.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking up at the moon.
"Why are you sorry?"
"I'm sorry I'm not sorry, because I want to be sorry."
He shook his head. "I don't understand."
So she turned to him, digging her hands and feet into the soft sand to steady herself. "I wasn't angry, I wasn't hurt or scared. I didn't have any reason to do it. I had nothing to get out of it. I just sat back and sort of enjoyed it. I felt like I was doing my job. Not anything to look forward to but not quite something to dread. It was just something I felt like I was supposed to do. And, what's worse? Half the time I think back to it, I'm not guilty. I don't care. Half the time I'm normal and the other half I just feel accomplished." Her voice wasn't shaking, and he couldn't see too well, but he could have sworn she was crying. "Ash, what's wrong with me?"
She clutched his hand so tight his fingers creaked, but he only squeezed her back and said, "I promise it'll be okay. Just wait and see, I'm going to make it better."
She threw her arms around him, scattering a rather annoyed Pikachu into the surf. "Arceus, Ash, I'm so sorry. I know I've been mean but I've been going crazy and I just don't know what to do. You're my only hope and all I've been doing it making it harder for you!"
"I know."
"And it's not just that." She pulled away, putting a sandy hand to his cheek. "You're my best friend and I lashed out at you. You're sweet and kind and granted you've got a brain that's smooth and the size of a marble but you're a really great guy and I shouldn't have done it. I don't know why I did it. I just…I can't take not knowing what going wrong with me."
He wanted to be that True Hero, to say that the evil forces were at work and he would vanquish them, run them through with a sword and then she'd be free from the curse. He wanted to say that, then kiss the tears off her cheeks and then end up in some romantic make out- come to think of it, he was probably old enough to have a sex scene. But Ash would only stumble through his words and if he tried to kiss her she would slap him so hard he'd faint like the coward he was. Besides, she wouldn't have wanted him to. And he didn't want to. Really, he didn't.
She kissed his cheek instead, her skin clammy and sticky from tears and salt water. "Thank you. I'm sorry for the…the…" She swallowed. "Thank you."
Misty turned to leave, and he felt like the damsel, tenderly touching his cheek and blushing at his heart pounding. All he wanted to do was chase after her, spin her around and kiss her, because at that moment he had no doubt that she loved him back. But he wasn't sure his heart could handle that much more excitement. So he sighed and dunked his head in the icy water, jolting himself awake, and scrambled after her, pulling her back to the water to keep his courage.
"What?" she asked.
He said around chattering teeth, "Talk to me."
"About what?"
"About Tracey."
Her voice just audible above the waves, she whispered, "Do you think I'm evil?"
Ash decided to be a bit braver and put his arm around her shoulder, leaning into her. "Don't believe in evil."
"What do you mean?"
"I've seen a lot of good and bad stuff and I've been to a lot of countries but evil seems like saying the edges of the earth." He looked for the words, to make them sound pretty and smart and comforting, but the sentences simply poured out in awkward streams. "Everyone has a reason. A story. It doesn't mean what they do is right, but it's not evil. Everybody's trying to do it for a good reason, you know?"
"Then what do you think of me?"
He grinned. "I thought you didn't care what I thought of you."
"Ash," she said, pinching his side hard enough to really hurt. "I mean it."
"You made a mistake."
"My gyarados set him on fire. I don't think you can cover that by calling it a mistake."
"It was a battle, accidents happen."
"I just watched," she growled. "I just stood back and stared and I didn't even try."
"But what could you have done?"
"Not feel proud."
He squeezed her shoulder. "You don't always feel proud about it."
"But when I do-"
"When you do, it's not pride. It's the shock." He took her shaking hand in his. "You…you just don't know how to react to it. That's it."
"I don't want to feel this way," she muttered, leaning her head on his chest.
He laughed a little. "Then maybe you shouldn't have sat down in the water."
"I don't feel cold."
"You'll get sick."
"I never feel cold." She lifted her head slowly. "Do you know why?"
"Years of selective breeding as a gym leader?"
"The star-haired man."
"You don't need to worry about him, Misty. I'll win. I'll save everyone and I'll kill him. I swear I will. I'll fight as hard as I can and he won't stand a chance. You don't have to worry, Mist. I promise it'll be okay."
She glared, pinching his side again. "I don't want you to kill him."
"What do you mean?"
"I said it before, and I'll say it again and again and again until you believe me." She met his eyes again, burning brightly. "I don't want you to be a killer. You're Ash Ketchum and you're not a killer."
"Why not?"
"Because this is one of the things that makes you amazing." She sounded breathless from it all, melting into him a little. "You don't torture, you don't kill. All you do is save, don't you get it? Your ability to help is so, so much more than you hurt is what makes you incredible. You give too many second chances, and I love that about you. I love that I know you're going to save everyone. I don't doubt it. But I don't think you're a killer."
He rolled her eyes. "You don't think that I am?"
"No, I think you're not a killer." She rolled her eyes.
"Because I'm not brave enough?"
"Oh, stop it!" she cried, clenching her fists. "It's not what I mean and you know it, you know what I mean!"
"No I don't!"
"If that thing was helpless and powerless and you were standing over it with a sword in your hand you wouldn't kill him!" she shouted, slapping his chest as hard as she could. It would be red for a while, and it would bruise a bit the next morning, but Ash didn't flinch. "After everything he did to you, you won't kill him out of revenge. You won't torture him! That's what makes you better then that!"
"It's a weakness."
"It is! Who cares?" she shouted. "People would do anything for a weakness like that!"
"I'm not people," he retorted. "People aren't going through this."
"If you can stop him, that's all that matters. That's what you need to do. If that's all you do, that's astounding. You don't need to make him suffer just because he did it to you, to us."
"Misty, look what he's done." Ash squeezed her hand. "He broke you."
"Ash Ketchum, tears don't mean I'm broken. They mean I'm human," she said fiercely. "I'm not done fighting yet, and you aren't either. So stop trying to be something you're not, because that's not what's going to get us out of here."
"But what if I save everyone and it doesn't make a difference? What if he just gets mad and kills everyone anyway? What if its just…" He shook his head, tugging his hands away and pressing his palms against his eyes. "I'm not going to cry again."
"Go ahead and cry," she whispered. "It's okay."
"But heroes don't cry," he argued softly. "Not unless somebody dies. They don't cry just because things go around or because they're hard or any of that kind of stuff."
Misty's eyes narrowed. "Who said that?"
"Dawn and me and Brock…we were reading about old heroes. We were trying to figure out what I could do to win, or how to beat him or something."
"And you never thought that you were enough?" She jabbed at the sore spot on his chest.
"What?"
"You're the Chosen One for a reason, Ash. It's not because you can throw a car or you can make some great escape using toilet paper and dirt because of your super genius abilities. It's because you're you. That's what saved the world all those times." She smiled. "So what makes this so different? It's just like all the others. He's just another bad guy."
"No."
"No?" she blinked, leaning away.
"I'm a target," he said solemnly. "He's after me, not anyone else. He's not trying to destroy the world or capture some Legendary pokemon or anything. He's trying to kill me. I've never had to save myself. Even Pikachu was the one being targeted half the time."
The little mouse's ears perked at finally being addressed, but noting that Ash had merely mentioned him offhand, he gave an unhappy sniff and went back to running and playing in the waves. And when he saw the star haired man standing off in the distance, when he smelled that strange scent that wasn't quite human or pokemon, he bristled quietly and kept watch. He would not let the man come closer. But, as he glanced back at his master who was starting to smell like sadness, he would not interrupt the talk. Not when he and Misty were so close.
"Yeah, but-"
"Heroes die, Misty. I don't know if you read the stories, but heroes die. Eventually, there's someone who's too strong, and a new hero has to take over. What if this is mine? I even have replacements all set up. I have cousins, Mist. They're getting ready for their own journeys. What if this is their fight and I'm just the set up?"
"You're not."
"But you don't know that."
"Neither do you!" she cried, throwing her hands up into the air. "You're saying what if, and you shouldn't. Instead of using your stupid, amazing head to think of all the ways you can die, why don't you try and use it to keep something from happening?" Now her hands settled on her hips, and there was a slight smile hidden in the corner of her mouth. "That's what your stupid heroes do, isn't it?"
"Aren't you supposed to be comforting me?"
"Not when you're being a dumbass. Then you get yelled at. I'd hit you too, if I still felt up to it. No slapping, either, a full on punch, Ketchum. You're lucky I'm tired, real, real lucky, or you'd be unconscious and drowning in this ocean. You can bet your ass I wouldn't save you either."
He grinned and pinched her cheek lightly. "You called my head amazing."
"I lied," she said, smacking his hand away.
"You so like me."
She rolled her eyes and pushed him into the surf with a loud splash. "Gees, can you ever kill a moment."
Pikachu turned to see the disturbance, then yelped, "Pikapi!" But, when they looked over, the star haired man was gone, and, unable to explain what had happened, Pikachu stopped trying to understand the strange creature and led his humans back to their room.
The next morning brought a tray of fresh, hot eggs benedict with tall glasses of orange juice. After their third servings, Brock decided to bring out the English muffin bread and ham and a big vat of sauce for them to dip things in. They scraped the bowl clean (well, Ash scraped it clean, while Brock and Misty gawked) and relaxed, stomach full and hearts content. For a brief moment, they let it slip their minds of where they were.
"Are we completely sure we want to go back?" Misty moaned, rubbing her bloated stomach happily. "I mean, I don't mind eating like this."
"No," Ash muttered.
She blushed, sitting up quick and glaring. "I was kidding."
"No," he said firmly, then knit his brows together and asked, "Where the hell is Max?"
"What?" Brock asked, popping a raspberry into his mouth.
"Max. My next challenge." He sat up now, looking back and forth between his friends. "Where the hell is he?"
"Back at the gym?" Brock suggested.
Misty shook her head. "No. He wouldn't be at the gym."
"Why?"
"May was at the gym," she said simply, looking at him as if it were a relatively simple fact.
"Yeah, but we got May out of the gym and the gym went back to normal. I don't see why Max couldn't be there too. At least, it can't hurt to check."
"Trust me," she said stiffly. "He's not at the damn gym."
Ash bristled. "Why not?"
"Because he's not," Misty snapped. "Check if you want. I'm telling you, there's no way in hell he's at that gym. If May was at the gym, he won't be."
Ash sighed, putting his head in one hand. "Want to tell us why?"
"I'm in his head pretty deep," she lied, glaring at the floor. "I can figure out something like this."
"Is that why you were crying last night?" Brock asked.
"You were crying last night?" Ash said, dropping his air of superiority. "You didn't tell me that."
She shrugged. "It wasn't important."
"It's a big deal!" he retorted. "I cry more than you do!"
"It was a dream about bugs. No big deal."
"It was about Aiden."
"You don't call him that. He's Tracey to you."
"That's why you told me about it last night?"
"Shut up," she snarled, pushing off of the bed with a grunt. "I'll be taking a shower."
He grinned halfheartedly. "Want company?"
"Not now, Ash," she shouted, and slammed the door behind her.
They heard the shower turn on and Ash turned back to Brock with a sigh. "I don't do it on purpose. I'm just trying to be nice and cheer her up."
"I know," Brock said, nodding softly. "You keep forgetting that Misty doesn't want you to care for her."
"I'd want her to care for me if I killed my boyfriend," he mumbled. Then, after a moment of consideration, corrected, "Girlfriend."
"But she's not you. She wants to stand on her own. She wants to feel guilty."
"Why?"
"I don't know. That's the way she is. If it's anything, she probably thinks she deserves to feel punished for it." Brock shrugged. "It's probably best just to leave it all alone. If she comes to you and she talks, then talk to her. If she doesn't bring it up, then leave it alone. Especially if she starts getting mad. If she starts getting mad, you should probably just run."
"Just like I used to," he sighed. "Maybe I should steal her clothes while she's in the shower."
"And how would that help anything?"
"It won't help," he agreed. "It'd be really, really funny though. She would run out of there and kill me."
"I'd kill you," Brock laughed. "So, where do you think that Max is if he's not at the gym?"
"Maybe we should try their house. It's right next to the gym, and if he's not there we can always check the gym again." Ash thought for a second. "I can't think of where else he would be. I don't even remember where I met him. I don't remember where I met most people."
Brock snorted. "It's been two years."
"Hey, I needed a map to figure out where the gym was in this town. At least I remember Kanto and Sinnoh well enough to get around. I didn't need a map once in any of those places. Well, I mean, not the second time through."
"Kanto is your home region and you just traveled through Sinnoh."
Ash arched an eyebrow. "Yeah. That's why I remember."
Misty came out of the shower just a few minutes later, her clothes back on and soaking up some of the left over water and her soaked, now dark hair plastered to her face. She seemed to have cooled down enough to hear them out, and nodded along as they explained their reasoning and their thoughts on Max's location. "His house?" she asked, rubbing at her head with a towel, head between her knees as she dried it. "Yeah. That could work. We could try his house. Is that where you met him?"
"I don't know."
She frowned, tossing the towel aside and whipping her head back, sending a light shower of raindrops across her bed. "What the hell does that mean?"
"It means I don't remember."
She gawked. "It was only three years ago! How do you forget how you met someone in three years?"
"Four," Ash corrected idly. "Four years ago."
"I don't care if it was ten years ago. Your memory should have started working by then."
He crossed his arms challengingly. "Oh, so you can remember everyone you've ever met?"
"I fished you out of a river. I met Brock at a gym. I met May and Max on my way to-" she said, ticking each meeting off on her fingers with a smirk.
"Alright!" he snapped. "You don't have to be such a show off. You have a good memory, big deal, all girls remember this stupid stuff."
She grinned. "So, I'm guessing you don't have any clue where his house is, either?"
"I'm pretty sure it's next to the gym." Ash shrugged. "Brock, you remember where it is?"
"It's next to the gym," he agreed. "And I remember where the gym is, since we went to it yesterday-"
"Hey, I remember where the gym is!"
"-So, I'll lead the way. That sound good to everyone?"
Misty frowned, shaking her head back and forth. "My hair's still wet."
"So we're going to delay saving Max because your hair's wet?" he shouted, falling back on the bed. "Of course! Let's get our priorities straight!"
"We don't have to," she mumbled, tugging at her hair. "We can go now. I'm sure it'll dry on the way."
"Oh, good." Ash snorted. "I'm sure Max will apologize when he finds out that his being captured got in the way of your dramatic hair care schedule."
"Shut up."
"I mean, he might have some problems if he's currently being tortured, but, hey, we need to make sure you look your very best when we go to try and rescue him. I mean, who wants to be rescued if there's a girl with wet hair waiting for your after you get out?"
"Aren't you snarky this morning?"
He gestured at the clocked with a cheeky, "Afternoon."
The house was absolutely nothing like a house on the inside. Instead, it was a huge, towering dungeon that they stood in the pits of. In the center of the room there was a pool of lava, which, at their distance should have been burning them, but merely felt extremely hot. Around the lava pool were rocks, which, due to the lava's heat, probably should have been melted as well. Instead, they jutted up proudly through the lava and made their obsidian, serrated edges glistening in the light from the molten rock. And, then, of course, there was Max, who was in the most impossible situation of all, considering how dead and tortured he should have been, he seemed to be doing pretty well.
"Max?" Ash asked. "Are you in a cage over boiling lava and pointy rocks?"
The boy looked around his small metal cage, at the chain that ran along the wall and down deep into the earth, then nodded. "Yeah. I am."
Ash looked around for a minute, staring in a mixture of awe and horror at the challenge that was laid out before him. "Were you reading a comic book when he took you?"
"I was reading Agent 15," he said, smiling a bit. "It's my favorite.
"I love that series!" Misty gasped. "This is just like book four where-"
"This happened?" Ash suggested dryly.
She blushed. "Uh-huh."
"How did Agent 16 live?" he called up.
"Agent 15?" Max inquired. "Uh, he was evil. He made the trap."
"Then how did the hero get out?"
"He died," Misty whispered sheepishly. "The cage slowly dropped forward into the lava and the guy put his head straight down in the lava so the burning would end faster."
"Why would you tell me that?"
"Because you're way better than him! He was just called the Golden Boy. He didn't even have a real name!"
"Like how I'm called the Chosen One?"
She put a hand on his shoulder, wincing a bit as she squeezed. "I believe in you, Ash. You definitely have a name."
"Yeah, thanks for that." Ash rolled his eyes. "Max, what can you tell us?"
"The door is open."
"So come out! Ash shouted. "Why the hell are you still in there?"
"And go where?" he shot back.
"Point taken." Ash turned back to his friends, pulling them close as if he was about to reveal a plan, then whispered, "I have no idea what to do."
The redhead's eyes widened. "Nothing?"
"What if I climbed up the chain?"
"What if the chain snapped?" Brock suggested.
"Well, I guess me and Max would slowly melt in a pit of lava, or get stabbed through by sharp rocks, or maybe even some combination of the two." Ash clapped his back sarcastically. "Thanks for keeping my mind off the bad, Brock-o."
"Trying."
"It's alright. Thanks for at least giving me some kind of warning."
"Check your pokeballs," Misty suggested.
"They won't work."
"It can't hurt to try."
"Knowing this guy, I think it can," he muttered, grudgingly taking a pokeball from his belt and expanding it.
"He plays fair."
"You keep saying that, but it sure as hell doesn't seem fair, Misty. Especially when I wake up at night and see you crying."
"First off, Brock saw me crying, not you. You wouldn't even have known if it hadn't been for him."
He glared. "Oh really? Because that's not how I remember last night."
"And, anyway, it's not a big deal. Girls cry."
He slammed the button again and again and again. "Tracey is dead, Misty. D-E-A-D, dead. It's a big fucking deal, and you need to stop saying it like it isn't – like it's your problem. It hit you hardest but he was my friend too. Even if we weren't in love-"
She interrupted, "I was in love."
"That's not what I meant."
Misty shrugged. "You said we. It's not we. There's a difference in the pronouns."
"I don't get it."
"You said we, meaning he loved me and I loved him. I said I. Not we. Pay attention."
"And what's that mean?"
She glared. "What do you think it means?"
"I don't know!"
"Ash," Brock warned.
He shook his head, ignoring the older boy's caution. "No, really, what are you talking about?"
"He didn't love me back, you dolt," she snapped. "We were dating, and he never felt the same. I loved him. He didn't love me back."
Ash swallowed. "Oh, I'm sorry."
"Don't be. That's not really the issue at hand. We need to stay focused."
"How do you keep making me feel guilty?"
"Waterflower talent." Misty smirked. "So what are you going to do?"
"My pokeballs are jammed, so there's only one way up." Ash pointed along the wall. "The chain's secure, it's keeping Max up and it should support me, so that's all there is to it. I'll climb up, get over to Max, and help him down. It's easy and it's the only possible way up. We'll be in and out in ten minutes."
"You can't!" she argued, gasping at the plan.
"Why not?"
"It's too dangerous!" she snapped. "You've come up with some bad plans over the years, don't I know it, but this passes them all without a problem. The amount of risks involved…you just can't! I mean, the chain could snap or the chain could be a trap or…or anything! There's got to be another way!"
Ash tucked his pokeballs away. "What else can I do?"
"Something other than this."
"He's over lava, Mist."
"I'm telling you, you'll get hurt!"
He chuckled. "I won't."
"You never believe me!" she shouted, stomping her foot. "You never believe me! I tell you not to because I know you and I know the things you do and I know when something bad will happen and you do it anyway! Every damn time! Every damn time I say no you say yes!"
"I can't leave him up there."
"But you can't die," she whispered. "If you died, it was for nothing. He'll kill us if you die, collapse the whole damn thing on us!"
"Then I won't die."
She shook her head. "Think harder."
"It's not a riddle."
"I don't care!" she shrieked, loud enough for Max to sit up and hear her. "There has to be another way! It can't be-"
"I'll be fine," he said, holding her hand tight. "I'll be back. Give me ten minutes tops, Mist, and I promise to be right back on the ground and we'll get out of here and finish up this stupid thing. All we need after Max is Dawn. You just have two more riddles."
"You die and I'll kill you," she muttered, pinching his side once again.
Brock nodded. "Take your gloves off, Ash. They're too smooth to give you much grip."
"What if the chain's too hot?" Misty leapt in, eyes wide. "What if you can't touch it?"
"I'll touch it anyway."
He obediently stripped the gloves from his hands and tossed them to Brock. He set Pikachu down, petting his head and promising he'd be back soon, swiveled his hat around backwards, then strode off with something that wasn't quite swagger or confidence, but an acceptance. Misty's hands balled into fists at that, because something wasn't quite right about it all. Because Ash didn't have foresight, and even if he did, he would never be the type who just laid down and took what the world said was coming to him. He was the kind of boy who would hear a prophecy and work up until the very last to try and prove it wrong, if he had to. He was a boy who defied expectations.
But he was following the plan, now. She could practically see the trail the star haired man had laid out for him. He walked to the wall and he grabbed the chain, and Misty got shivers down her spine, cowering closer to Brock. Ash tugged at it, making sure it was secure, then jumped, grabbing the chain and pulling himself up. Foot by foot he pulled until his biceps burned and pushed until his thighs shook, and when he reached the top he tapped the ceiling like he was going to set off an alarm and win himself a carnival prize. Then he panted and waited, head slumped against the rock.
He grabbed the chain that trailed along the ceiling, and made sure he had a good grip before clenching the muscles in his stomach and letting his legs wrap around it as well. He slithered across the chain, all the way to the where it bent down from the ceiling to dangle Max. This was harder. He reached one hand out, grabbed it, and let everything else go, swinging back and whipping so hard he almost went over the side. Ash could taste the sulfur in the air as he drew in a sharp breath and hauled on the chain, snapping himself back. He wrapped his legs around it, hugged it tight and panted as it swung gently, listening to the one sharp, short yelp from Max, who gripped the bars of his cage to keep himself from falling out. Then he slid down ever so slowly, feet touching the top of the cage, and settled.
He rubbed at his arms and legs to get the feeling back. Then Ash sighed and bent over the side to grin at the other black haired boy. "How's it hanging?"
Max giggled. "You did not just make that joke."
"I did." He was sure his feet were locked around the chain, flat on his stomach and grabbed the boy's hands tight. Max held on, his nails digging little furrows into Ash's forearms, and the bigger of the two hauled him out, on top of the cage, where they panted for a moment. He rubbed Max's back warmly, then curled up and clutched onto the chain to stay stable. "Did you watch how I came over?"
"Yeah."
"Do you remember?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, I'm going to have you go first so I can watch you. Alright?" Ash nodded at him. "You think you can do it? Do you need to stretch or do you need help or-?"
"I think I can do it," Max said tightly, swallowing. "Just…you'll stay close behind me, right?"
"Right behind you," he promised.
Up the chain, across the top, and right as he went to shift again, he missed.
His hand slipped. He was on his way back and his hand slipped. He had saved Max, and his sweating hand had grabbed and slipped, his fingers brushed the chain on his way down, and for a second he was floating, unable to change his path and no clue where to change it to if he could, and then the wall. He crashed into it and grabbed at it, the rock face crumbling away and slowing his fall, but the hit was inevitable. It knocked the wind out of him so he couldn't scream, but there was a white hot pain through his right leg that made him fade in and out of consciousness, hovering at the brink, mouth open in a voiceless cry.
"Max, hold on!" Brock shouted. "Ash'll be okay if you climb down."
"What happened?" he screamed, clinging to the chain, his twelve year old eyes wide. "Why'd he scream?"
"Max, don't think about it. Just grab-"
"Arceus!" Max screamed, his eyes round as he took in the sight of Ash on the floor the rock spike shining with a bit of his blood. Then the anthem started. Over and over and over came the horrified cry of, "He's dead! He's dead! He's dead!"
"I'm getting him," Misty snarled, starting forward.
"He won't let-"
She glared at Brock. "Oh, he'll let me. For me? For Max? He'll fucking let me."
She charged off, grabbing the chain and shimmying up it. She refused to look at Ash, but she wanted to. Every part of her ached to look, though she had seen him fall and she had watched in almost slow motion as the rock slide through his upper thigh. But Max needed the help, because if she helped Max Ash would be okay. She was just below him, and she tapped his foot, jolting him out of his stupor and looking down at her, eyes already bloodshot and tears streaking down his face, his knuckles white as he clutched to the chain. She gulped against her dry throat. "Max, you have to come with me, now."
His voice creaked like a rusted door. "I can't."
"You have to."
"But I can't."
"If you want to help Ash, you have to."
"How?" he gasped, choking on a sob.
"If you get down safe, he'll be okay. He gets healed."
He swallowed. "But he's dead."
"The spike is in his leg, Max. At worst, he'll be crippled and we'll have to get him a tetanus shot."
"You're lying."
"I'm not, I swear it." She squeezed his ankle. "Max, please, this is the only way we can help him. If you stay up here, without any medical supplies, there's no telling how bad it could get. If we can't get you out of here and can't get him medical help Ash really could die. Please, Max."
"I…"
"Just look at me," Misty begged. "Right at me, and we'll get down, okay? You can do it, Max."
He nodded mutely.
Inch by inch he crawled down, his terrified eyes boring holes into Misty's. But he was safe. Ash had done the hard part. She could hardly hurt herself from this height, and it would take a leap off the wall to impale herself on a rock. It took every last bit of her will not to turn and look at him, not to slide down the chain fast enough to break a few bones and get to him, because what if he wasn't fixed? What if he did die? But Max had to come first, because if Max wasn't safe, Ash didn't have a chance. If Max wasn't safe, everything Ash had done was absolutely pointless.
But once her feet touched the ground, and Max was low enough that he couldn't die if he fell headfirst, she raced to Ash's side, putting his head in her lap and drying the cold sweat off his face with her hand. Once Max stood on the ground, the points vanished and Ash gasped as the hole in his leg sealed up. His back arched and strangled gasps and strangled sounds came from his throat, his eyes wide with pain as he looked up at her.
"You're okay now?" she whispered, once his pain had seemed to subside.
"Yeah. No big deal." He patted his leg and grinned, his entire body trembling. "Just a little sore, now."
"Don't say no big deal," Misty murmured, "you almost died."
"It was just through my leg."
"And what would have happened if you had tilted? Another through your chest, your stomach, your fat head," she snapped, eyes shining with tears. "You idiot, it's a huge deal. The fall alone could have killed you."
"Nah. I'm pretty tough."
"Not that tough." She put a hand on his leg and he gulped as she felt her hand rub up and down his thigh as she inspected it. Finally she pulled her hand away with a smile. "You're fine."
"Sore in my muscle, yeah, but Max is safe."
"Thanks to you."
"And you…You're okay, right?" He eyed what parts of her he could. "The chains didn't rip up your hands, did they?"
She laughed, wiping at her eyes. "Idiot."
He grinned weakly. "I think I'm going to pass out."
She kissed his forehead softly. "Go ahead. You're okay now."
He grin grew stronger, goofy and wide. "You kissed me."
"You earned it," she said, leaning her forehead against his. "Brave, wonderful, amazing boy."
"Knew you liked me."
"Yeah," she said, choking on tears. "You got me."
He smiled, and he closed his eyes and slept, and she pressed her fingers to the vein in his neck to feel the strong, steady heartbeat that let her know he wasn't gone.
"Is the stair-haired man coming?" Brock asked.
"No. He wants this," she whispered. "And I bet Max is already gone."
"He is." Brock kneeled by her. "He vanished right after he got off the chain."
"Let's get him back to the room." She swallowed. "You're steadier, would you…?"
"No problem," he said, his arms quickly curling under Ash. "Of course."
"She hasn't left your side, Ashy-boy."
"Can you blame her?"
"You slipped. It wasn't unexpected."
"Tell that to Max."
"He should have anticipated that."
"He's twelve!"
"I don't see how that matters."
"He's just a kid!"
"Kids have been through worse."
"And by kids, you mean you."
"Want a present, Ash?"
"Sorry?"
"Do you want a present? For not dying?"
"I thought that was Max."
"Oh, he's just a prize."
Lots of laughter. Loud and so cold his leg started aching all over again.
"I'm talking much bigger."
"What's bigger than somebody's life?"
"A free gift without a challenge."
"Then what's the catch?"
"No catch."
"Why would I believe that?"
"Because I play fair."
"I wouldn't call this playing fair."
"You want her hands on you?"
"What?"
"Her hands, Ketchum. Do you want her to touch you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You like that redhead, don't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I can give you that. It won't be real, and it won't be her, but I can give that to you. For the night, she can be all yours. Tracey never existed. Just you and her."
"Tracey was my friend."
"Friends steal girls?"
"Misty was never mine, He didn't steal her."
"Oh, he knew you liked her. He teased you about it enough."
"When I was a kid."
"And why would he assume it changed?"
"I left her. We grew apart."
"Last time I checked he didn't even love her. He broke her heart, didn't he?"
"We grew apart."
"What's it like to want her and know she'll never want you? I've never had that problem."
"Shut up."
"You know she wouldn't, if her type was Tracey."
"Who says she has a type? And who says I care if she does? And why the hell wasn't Max in the gym?"
"She loved Tracey, so how could she go from a guy like him to a guy like you?"
"I don't want her."
"Makes you feel like crap, right?"
"Stop it."
"So why don't you feel good for once?"
"Stop it!" he shouted, pounding at his head. "Leave me alone!"
"Why don't you take her for one night? Then you'll have what you want from her. You can chase her off. Won't that be nice? Take what you want and get rid of the hassle."
"Let me go!" he screamed.
For a second, he was breathing in the musty air of Oak's lab, the lights burning his eyes and a quiet murmuring in the background. The next moment, he was back in the hotel, breath ragged as he sat in the fancy, well furbished place he suddenly considered disquieting and disgusting.
"You vanished!" Misty gasped, hugging him tight.
"What?"
"For a minute you…you vanished," Brock explained, looking rather stricken as well. "Your whole body was gone for a good five minutes! What'd he do?"
Ash frowned. "I don't…think he did."
"Then what happened?"
"I think it was me," he said slowly, raising his head to stare. "I…I think I got out."
I hope it was worth it! Once again, thank you all so, so much for waiting, and I hope that Hero continues to live up to your expectations!