Fractured Stars
by Spruceton Spook
Part 10
The Sleepover
Oh God, Ash thought despairingly as he stepped off onto Gary's carpeted basement floor. He could very well have entered the fiery pits of Hell. It served as no difference to him. What am I doing…?
Ash's mind was clouded in worry, causing him to bite forcefully down on his lower lip. He nervously gripped at the straps of his backpack, staring piercingly at his rival, whose back was to him. His breathing was slow but not calm, as he could feel his heart pumping strenuously. The sight of Gary before him was enough to make him break into a sweat, brought on solely by pure loathing. His legs barely moved as he trudged over to the other side of the basement, where he could see the familiar couches he remembered from his recent past covered with blankets. He couldn't even hold wonderful thoughts of the surroundings and all the fun activities that occurred here, as every good memory was washed over with the dreaded current event.
Brock and Misty were still ahead of him, following Gary over to couches, which apparently were going to serve as their sleeping area. Ash lagged slowly behind, taking notice of the awkward silence that had engulfed the room.
Gary gestured at the large comforter strewn across the floor. "You guys can sit down, if you want," he offered. His voice was still suspiciously low, but at least it wasn't as irritating and full of conceit as it normally was.
Misty and Brock accepted the proposal, lowering themselves to the floor. Ash stood on the edge of the comforter, looking down at his friends making themselves comfortable. He didn't want to sit down. He didn't even want to be here. Why was he here?
"Ash, c'mon, sit down," Misty said gently, her blue eyes staring up delicately and encouragingly into his. She patted the floor beside her almost invitingly, giving him a skittish grin.
Ash was frozen, his eyes set at the floor and his mouth slightly agape. He wanted to say something, but nothing popped to his mouth at the moment.
A few seconds passed, Ash remaining still. Misty slumped, hoping the night wasn't becoming impossible this early. They had barely been there five minutes and already Ash was as stubborn as ever.
"Ash," she bid again, still with the same tenderness but with a bit more firmness.
"Ash, sit down," Brock ordered, eyeing him demandingly. Ash didn't know what happened, but the look Brock had given him basically reached up and yanked him down. He plopped reluctantly between his two friends, his nerves easing slightly as he felt them brush up against him.
Misty brought her face down to his. "It's okay," she whispered in his ear.
He returned her attempted assurance with an eye roll. Misty gulped, balling her fists as she directed her attention to Gary again, who had joined them on the comforter. His legs were crossed and he was regarding them casually, neither a smile nor a frown on his face. When he saw Misty glance at him, he arched his eyebrows.
"So," he began, nodding a little. "How you guys tonight?"
Just swell, Ash thought, taking in a deep, heavy, pacifying breath. Like you care.
Misty and Brock both nodded with an "okay." Ash didn't respond. His attention was directed toward the floor. His face sagged unhappily, and each time he blinked it was hard and long.
"Guess this is kind of a surprise," Gary commented. His tone was positive and friendly, all signs that he was trying to start a pleasant conversation. "I mean, I just came back from training today in the woods, and my mom told me you guys were coming. I didn't know what to think."
"Neither did we," Brock replied softly, throwing a quick glance at Ash. He forced a tiny smile to his lips. "Gave us—" he thought for a moment for the right phrasing, "—quite a shock."
Gary nodded, his eyes darting briefly to Ash. Misty and Brock noticed that he was sizing up Ash most of the time, but they didn't know what to make of it. Never once did he make any sort of face to disclose his attitude towards Ash…not a sly smirk or a scowl or anything. His face was easy and his eyes calm, and his fingers twiddled absentmindedly at his waist. It was hard to determine what truly was going on in Gary's mind.
What Ash was thinking, on the other hand, was truly indisputable. His mouth was curved into a fidgety, aggrieved frown, and his brow was carved with deep trenches. His hands were not at rest—they were clutched into tight fists that caused his knuckles to whiten. He also sported a sheen of sweat, but then again, it was warm down in the basement.
Misty turned away from Ash, closing her eyes in hope for relief. If she could have had any power at that moment, it would have been teleportation. She never wished for any sort of super power like that before, except for the fun of imagination, but at this point she willed it. The tension was as thick as dense fog, and it was only growing thicker by the minute. She wanted to get them out of there.
Gary was staring attentively at Ash once again. Ash could feel his eyes on him.
Don't stare at me, he threatened maliciously in his mind. His heart had begun to beat viciously. He glared conscientiously at the green comforter, scores of scrambled thoughts rushing through his brain simultaneously. One was distinctly clear, though—he resented his mother for this. The anger over this foolish plan of hers burned. He had to spend the night being stared down by the person he detested most? What could he have possibly done to deserve this? What had been going on in her mind?
"So, I, uh, heard you guys just came home from a one week journey," Gary chuckled harmlessly. "That's pretty…weird. How was it?"
"Short," Brock responded. Misty smiled tightly her agreement.
"Uh-huh. So, did you make it to—where were you going?—Goldenrod City?" Gary asked, rolling the conversation on. He made his question out to everyone, but it was clear who he was really asking. His attention kept settling on the withdrawn Ash.
He waited for Ash's reply, but after a few seconds it was obvious the cat got Ash's tongue. Misty smiled nervously. "Uh, yeah, we—we made it to Goldenrod. Nice town."
"Very nice," Brock nodded quickly.
"Ah," Gary said. He suddenly looked excitedly interested. "Sooo...did you get the badge, Ash?"
Ash's blazing eyes flipped up at Gary momentarily. What do you care?
Gary shuddered at the sharp gaze he received. He bit his lip and looked around the room anxiously. With a taut smile and a sigh, he continued, "Um…I guess you didn't."
So what are you going to say now? Ash wondered. That I'm here because I'm a loser? Because I couldn't win the goddamn badge and came home crying? Go ahead…I know that's what you want to say. Go on. Say it, you rotten jerk.
But, alas, Gary didn't say a word. Ash couldn't help but be a little surprised. At a prime opportunity like that, Gary could've capitalized with a disparaging remark, boiling Ash's blood to the temperature of the sun, but...he didn't. That didn't end the exchange, however, as Ash suddenly received an unexpected elbow to his side.
"Ash, answer him," Misty persuaded, giving Gary a sheepish grin as if to say 'Sorry, hold on.' "C'mon."
Ash leveled Misty a look that made her shiver, but she recovered quickly and gave a rigid look right back. "Talk to him," she ordered, making him flinch. It was partly out of embarrassment that he needed to be commanded by his friends to speak when he was trying so desperately to make a point with his silence.
"Hmmph," Ash snorted quietly, folding his arms in front of him.
Brock grimaced considerably along with Misty. "Um…he means to say is, no, he didn't."
"Oh." Gary's face fell. "A little tough?"
Yeah, you'd get a field day out of that, Ash thought. You bastard.
Misty could feel the frostiness of Ash's demeanor despite the increasingly stifling temperature of the room. "Uh, uh, no…we, um, we didn't get to the gym. Ash didn't battle."
"Oh," Gary said again. "Why's that?"
And it just keeps on coming, Ash smiled mentally. Just not satisfied yet, are we?
Misty and Brock fell silent, praying Ash would answer this time. He would need to talk sometime. They couldn't do it all for him. It was difficult as much as it was irritating. Gary could sense this, and ultimately all the kids' attention was trained on Ash, waiting for whatever was to emerge from the mute boy who was balled up, a Pikachu sitting quietly in his lap.
Gary sighed, thinking carefully before saying each thing. "Are you setting up new strategies for your pokémon, Ash? I think that's important when you're going into a specific battle. Have you looked into the gym leader's battle techniques? Well, geez, look who I'm talking to! I'm sure you do, seeing as how you win a lot of the time."
Ash was flummoxed now, this mysterious, new positive interest Gary had taken in his training wholly dubious. He hadn't shared one iota of training dialogue with Gary since they received their first pokémon, and he wasn't about to start now. What are you trying to get at?
"Did you meet up with any new pokémon lately?" Gary persisted, fishing for any kind of response. One never came. Shrugging and toiling with what to say next, Gary finally gave up. "I—I don't know…" he trailed off, throwing a glance to the floor.
Misty and Brock had just about had enough. Enough of this painfully awkward night, enough of Gary, and enough of Ash. This was not going to work. Delia must have been insane to think that this was going to heal Ash and Gary's dismal friendship. If anything, it was broadcasting how miserable it had become. Ash wasn't going to say a thing all night, and Gary was going to go on and on like nothing was wrong. Neither knew what to do to rectify the situation, though.
Luckily, their host had the best—and only, really—idea in mind. "I guess you guys must be tired," Gary sighed, breaking the excruciating silence. "We can go to sleep if you want. I mean, my folks said we can stay up for as long as we want, and I have things we can do, I guess, but if you want to sleep, that—that's okay with me."
Misty couldn't help but feel a twitch of sadness for Gary. Despite all the grief he had caused Ash and their group in turn, right now he sounded so legitimate, so sincere. It must have been shocking to him that this arrangement had been made, too, but he wasn't putting up a fight. Maybe he did want to have a nice evening with them. That, or perhaps he was warned to make sure it was nice. Either way, he was the one rising up, going through with being sportive, and doing a good job of it, too. Ash wasn't being asked to be palsy-palsy with him, or have fun with him, but the least he could have done was try to be civil, to talk. She didn't know what Gary was thinking, she wasn't a mind-reader; but whether or not Gary found this just as difficult, she had to commend him for behaving himself the way he was.
Gary looked one final time at Ash, his eyes drooping sadly. "I'm sorry we couldn't talk tonight, Ash. I know it's not been good between us lately, and I'm finding this just as hard as you are, but…" He shrugged. "I thought that maybe tonight could've been different."
Ash's eyes then rose, burning into Gary, and an undeniable expression of animosity darkened his face. At last, he spoke: "Why should I even look at you after what you said?"
The chill in his voice was enough to make everyone in the room blanch, even Pikachu. Gary drew back at Ash's rancorous glare.
"What?" he asked.
"What you said to me a few weeks ago!" Ash clarified, his words dripping with repulsion. "Why should I talk to you or even give you the time of day?"
Gary looked puzzled for an instant, then frowned. He knew what Ash was talking about; it all came back to haunt him now. With a deep breath, he prepared himself to face what he'd hoped they would never revisit, yet take care of it the way he truly wanted.
"Ash," he started, shaking his head and appearing somewhat nervous, "look, about that…I—I'm really sorry."
Ash snorted. "Sure."
"No, Ash! I really am!" Gary insisted. His face illuminated in need of vindication. "I feel horrible about what I said to you. I thought about it all afterwards, after you started…crying…I just felt so bad. Please, I'm sorry. I admit it, I was a total ass that day."
Ash found it best to look away, as Gary's sudden plea for forgiveness sickened him. It was amazing what this kid thought he could do, trying to make him believe for one moment that he was actually sorry. How gullible did Gary honestly think he was—he knew every word that came out of his rival's spiteful mouth that day was spoken with veracity. This sham apology Gary was spewing now just made him clench his teeth.
"Can it, Gary," Ash spat venomously, narrowing his eyes. "Don't give me that shit."
"Ash, please…" Misty muttered softly, not liking what was progressing, or what could come from it. She reached over to restrain him lightly, but her hand was pressed back at her.
"It's not shit," Gary replied firmly, his eyes narrowing right back at Ash. "I'm apologizing to you because I really am sorry."
"I don't care what you say you are," Ash said, pointing his finger stiffly at Gary. "What you said about my parents is unforgivable! Do you hear me?!"
Brock was the next to kick in. "Ash, calm down," he ordered, trying to keep his tone tempered. "Please. We can handle this more maturely."
"I'm not going to calm down!" Ash shouted in his friend's face, Brock cowering from his booming response. His face reddened with outrage, he gestured angrily at Gary, who was almost cowering in front of him. "Do you hear what he's saying?!" He turned back to Gary. "You're not sorry for what you said. It's just a bunch of bull, like everything else that comes out of your mouth!"
Gary shrugged defensively, but it was apparent his patience was staring to falter, too. "Ash, come on! Look at my face! I'm not lying to you! I'm trying to make amends here!"
Ash just scoffed.
"I'm glad to see that your parents are back together," Gary continued to relate pointedly. "I think that's so great. I'm happy for you."
Oh boy… was all Ash could think as his eyes widened. At that point, he became speechless, completely overwhelmed with the last statement that had just escaped his rival's lips. Happy for him? Since when was Gary happy for him? Ash knew right then how powerful a lie was, because it was like it slapped him in the face. There was no other explanation for that, except that it was pure fabrication.
"How dare you!" Ash screeched, causing his friends to cringe. "How dare you lie like that! After what you said to me, how can you expect me to believe that?!"
"Because it's true, Ash! Why would I want someone's parents to break up? Huh?!"
"It sure as hell sounded like that!" The whites of Ash's eyes flared as the recollection of Gary's abhorrent comments fueled his tirade. "You have no idea what you did to me that day! No idea! It was bad enough that I had to deal my parents divorcing—how horrible that was for me! I felt like my world was ending, and you had the nerve to tell me that my father was a cheater! And a deadbeat! That you could say things like that to me! You destroyed me that day, Gary! You destroyed me, and I hate you for that! I hate you!"
His body shaking and his face beet red, Ash's lower lip began to quiver. Visibly fighting off tears and desperate not to show it, he resorted to bringing his knees up to bury his face within. Pikachu hopped off right before being squashed and observed his distraught trainer, Ash's strong, sound breathing making his body heave. His arms hugged at his legs hysterically, fettering them tightly to his chest. Misty and Brock, stone still, exchanged worried glances, shocked at what had just happened.
Gary had been rendered speechless, his face flushed, his eyes wide, absorbing the caustic rant.
"Ash," he begged once again, his voice low, cautious, and shaky. "I…I…what can I do? What can I do to let you know how sorry I am?"
Ash didn't reply. His head was still burrowed deeply in his knees. Misty found herself trembling as she watched him. She wanted to reach out and hug him—she wanted to comfort him. Her arms outstretched slightly, but she pulled them away and bit her lip. Clenching her fists, she took a deep breath through her nose, and shot a glare at Gary.
"Look what you did to him," she snarled. Brock gulped at the poison in Misty's look, and his eyes darted nervously from her to Gary.
Gary's face fell as Misty's accusation stung. He knew he wasn't going to get any support from Misty and Brock. And Misty especially! How could someone that close to Ash, who cared about Ash so much, not take her friend's side? Gary shivered as he realized it was three against one, and if he was going to defend himself, he would have to do a pretty good job of it.
Misty's sneer remained as her eyes continued to focus despicably on the boy whom Ash had somehow pitted them against since the day they met him, thoughts of how he could have once possibly been Ash's best friend. Ash barely ever spoke of the friendship with kind recollection, and this event surely wasn't going to lend itself to that concept.
"Look," Gary started, breathing deeply as he spoke. "I don't know what I can possibly say…or do, to get you to believe me. Do you think this is easy for me, admitting this all to you?! I mean it when I tell you how low I felt that day. I actually felt less than dirt when I saw you crying and you ran away, and I want you to know that part of the reason why I didn't fight to end this crazy arrangement tonight was because I just had these—these high hopes that I could apologize to you and make things right. I was a jerk that day, okay? I admit it. I don't blame you for how you're acting towards me. I deserve it all."
He became quiet for a moment. "But seeing as you're here, I thought…well, I thought that maybe you felt the same way, that you wanted to put that behind us."
Ash's head rose from his knees. To Brock and Misty's relief, he was not crying. They thought that was a sure bet, based on his sudden withdrawal and the fact that his waterworks came easy. He didn't look well, however.
"I never felt that way," Ash mumbled. "I didn't want to come here."
Gary cocked his head. "Well…then why are you here?"
"Because my parents made me," Ash replied coldly. "The only reason why I'm here right now was because I was forced to come here. Trust me, I'd rather in friggin' Siberia than here."
That, of course, was something else Gary figured. But it didn't matter how it all came to be. He was there, and they were there, this night was going to happen whether they liked it or not, and with a heavy sigh, Gary said just that. "Well, whichever way it happened, we're all here now, so we'd might as well get along."
"I'm not going to get along with you," Ash declared. "Ever."
"But we can't try?" Gary barked desperately. He was beginning to look miffed at his rival's stubbornness. "Ash, we're not out in the field where, yeah, I can make fun of your training skills. We're here, in my basement. I'm being as nice to you as I possibly can. I don't want this night to be unbearable. I think we can get through this."
"Oh, give me a break!" Ash shouted. "I know you! You were probably looking so forward to this night! It's just another opportunity to make my life a living hell! You tormentor!"
Gary's eyes widened incredulously. "That's a lie!"
"It's not a lie!" Ash screamed, sweat breaking on his forehead. "It's true, and you know it! And Misty and Brock know it!"
Misty and Brock balked at the fact that they were dragged into the situation abruptly. The attention on them was fleeting, however, as the battle between Ash and Gary continued.
"But it's not true!" Gary responded hotly. "I don't want to torment you! Not here!"
Suddenly, Ash rose from his sitting position to his knees, arching his back as his balled fists hung at his sides. "You always want to torment me! Even as kids, you always had it out for me!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Gary cried in disbelief. He, too, rose to his knees, impelled to take on a more erect, combative position.
Ash narrowed his eyes to odious slits. "When we were kids, you were always trying to get me into trouble!"
"What?!" Gary cried, unable to comprehend what Ash was stating. "How—"
"You used me all the time, and you liked it!" Ash interrupted. "I was your little accomplice for when your crazy schemes went wrong. You didn't want to be my friend—you just wanted me along with you to take the brunt of the stupid things you did! I'm not an idiot, Gary—I may have been then, but I'm not now."
Misty and Brock watched the heated exchange, befuddled, thousands of questions arising from this freshly exposed segment of Ash and Gary's history.
Gary, ironically, looked just as dumbfounded. "First of all, I don't know what you're talking about—making you the brunt of the things I did. The stupid things we did when we were kids were things we both did, not just me! You got us into plenty of trouble, too!"
Ash felt his blood rage. He couldn't believe the audacity of Gary's perjury. All he could think of was the mischief Gary had engaged in and dragged him along into. It had always been Gary, coming up with one zany idea after another. Granted, Ash could recall a few fun memories that offset the subsequent consequences, and Ash could cite a few ideas he may have pioneered, but Gary had definitely been the dominant instigator. And now Gary was denying it.
Unfortunately, Gary proceeded to do more than deny. "In fact, it was because of you that we always got caught! You were always the one to screw up or slip! You're the reason why we were sometimes in deep shit! You were the weak one, not me! We could have gotten away with a bunch of things if it weren't for you! All because you always felt so 'guilty,' that you felt bad that you were doing something you weren't supposed to. That you weren't a 'perfect angel.' You would cave and admit to your parents where we went or what we did! It's because of you our friendship sucked!"
Gary, luckily, was able to finish his statement. But that was where it ended, when Ash finally snapped. As he took in all of the accusations, all of the insults, a shiver of rage ran up his spine. In the course of a split second, his reflexes reacted. Ash's fist reeled back and went flying at Gary's chin. A sharp crack was heard as it made contact, sending Gary flat on his back. Misty screeched.
"Ash, NO, stop it!" Brock ordered, instantly grabbing hold of the infuriated boy. Ash fought savagely in his friend's grasp, glaring with impassioned animosity at the stunned Gary, whose face was flushed with shock. His hand was covering his mouth.
"Let me go!" Ash yelled, trying to break free of Brock. "Let me go! I'm going to kill him!"
"No you won't!" Brock growled back, using all his weight to wrangle Ash to the ground. He detained him firmly as Misty backed up, clutching Togepi fearfully to her chest. She looked at Ash and then at Gary, unable to process the sudden turn of events.
"Ash, please stop!" she pleaded, her cries coming out in whimpers. She couldn't control to rush of tears that came to her eyes. "Please, Ash!"
Ash heard her appeal, but he didn't relent. He kept wrestling with Brock, his eyes blazing with fury at Gary. Each second, though, the struggling weakened. Gary was just standing there, since brought to his feet, looking down at his provoked former friend, his mind a mess of thoughts. He prayed that Brock could hold him down long enough, because, in that moment, Gary was scared.
"Let me go!" Ash cried again, desperate, his voice cracking. The tears had come, too, and as he was ultimately subdued by Brock, two streams of them slipped from his eyes. "Let go...!"
At that, he broke down in sobs, his hands flying to his face. As his knees buckled underneath him, Brock's grip on him instinctively loosened, sensing his defeat. But suddenly, Ash flipped around and bolted, thankfully, in the opposite direction of Gary, making a dash for the staircase.
"Ash!" Misty and Brock cried at the same time.
"Where are you going?!"
"Come back!"
Ash barely heard his friends' cries as he ran, oblivious to everything but the urgency to get out of there, and get out of there fast.
"Pikapi!" Pikachu cried as well, showing no hesitation in bolting off after his trainer, who rushed up the stairs with blinding speed.
Ash ran through the Oak house, his sobs resounding loudly. Luckily, he encountered no one on the main floor, and threw the front door open and ran out into the night. Pumping his legs as hard as he could, he raced down the middle of the road, the humid, night air engulfing him. The light of the moon and the streetlights guided him, and through his tear-filled eyes he could see the windows of his house shining out to him, calling him home.
The mellow flow of music drifted through the room, setting a most idyllic mood. The flickering of candles bounced off the walls, providing the only light in the dimness, though it was hardly insufficient. An open bottle of champagne sat half-empty on the coffee table, equally drained flutes standing tall beside it.
Jay reclined on the couch, his arms wrapped around his wife, who was perched in his lap. Delia's arms loitered about Jay's neck as her hands worked their way across his broad upper back caressingly. Their eyes clasped in utter bliss, their lips were firmly locked, as they had been continuously for the past half-hour.
"Mmm," Delia moaned gently, opening her sparkling brown eyes. She pulled her lips away from Jay's, bringing her hands up to cup his face. Jay opened his eyes as well and met her gaze with a radiant smile.
"This is so great," Delia whispered indulgently, taking a deep breath as Jay reached up to run his finger across her brow.
"You said it," he replied, also in a whisper. "This night's been a long time coming."
"Sure has," mumbled Delia, leaning in to kiss him again. She couldn't keep herself away from his lips. Their familiar warmth and sweet taste filled her body with indescribable desire, and she couldn't fathom how she could have been without them for three long years.
After a short while, Delia pulled away and went for her champagne. Her eyes didn't leave Jay's as she sipped the tingly liquid, her flirtatious gaze causing Jay to chuckle jubilantly. He reached over to grab his own, and holding it up in a toast, they clinked their glasses together.
"To us," he said, his head held proudly and happily, "and to a spectacular night ahead of us."
Delia beamed, and the two both partook in another tiny sample. "To us," she breathed in keen accord.
Jay set his flute down, and readjusted himself to a sitting position without shifting his wife all that much. Delia tossed her hair out of her face with one swift shake of her head, cocking her eye dubiously, an almost sly grin edging its way onto her mouth.
"You know what?" Jay asked, and Delia's brow rose in inquisitive reply.
Jay looked down as he rubbed her arm. "I'm glad you got the kids out for the night. This has been perfect so far, and it certainly wouldn't've been like this if they were here. Nice move."
Smiling softly, Delia nodded. "I know." Her eyes then drifted momentarily into space. She sighed, though it wasn't heavy. "I just hope Ash is okay."
"Oh, I'm sure he's fine," Jay replied easily. When she didn't agree immediately, he added, "Why, you're worried about him?"
Delia gave a disquieted shrug. Jay's innocent comment had only served in reminding her that she hadn't totally been able to take her mind of Ash. While relieved he had finally given in and gone to Gary's, she couldn't forget the impassioned resistance he had put up. "Oh, I don't know. A little bit. He...he was so upset. I just hope he's coping well."
"He'll be fine," Jay reassured, dismissing it with mollifying smirk. He squeezed her arm, and Delia gradually allowed the gesture to steal her attention away from Ash and back to her husband. "We aren't going to worry about Ash anymore. Alright? You know where he is. You know he's safe. He'll get over it and have fun. Tonight, it's just about you…and me."
As he spoke, Delia's eyes drooped slightly, her body yielding at his smooth touch. She felt herself drawn to his face again as if it were a magnet, and the last wisp of concern for Ash dissolved. She was being bewitched by his charm again, and Delia allowed herself to be taken over by it. Their lips came together, and ever so carefully, Delia let her tongue slide into his mouth. Suddenly, she realized that this kiss was like no other—it was deeper, more intense, more amorous. It was taking hold of every part of her being entirely, and she graciously allowed it.
The heat of the moment grew, the intimate engagement broadened. She felt Jay's hands descend to her sides, grasping her shirt gently in his hands. They separated for a moment as Delia raised her arms, granting him facility in pulling her shirt up and over her head. A blast of chilled air hit her as Jay tossed the shirt aside, but it didn't take long for his warm hands to begin traveling up and down her exposed skin.
Their lips reunited again, passion blasting through their bodies. Delia suddenly found her hands searching for the buttons of Jay's shirt, and she began to tediously pull at one upon finding it. Jay, in turn, reached his arms around her body, gradually sliding them up to the clasp of her bra, hesitating none in preparing to detach it.
He didn't get very far.
The soft but highly perceptible snap of the front door unlocking pricked their ears instantaneously, but there was no time to react. The door flew open forcefully, banging against the opposite side of the wall. Delia yelped loudly as they both turned toward quite the spectacle.
His face curled into an unsightly expression of melancholy and anger, Ash stood in the doorway. The house key dropped from his hands. His eyes lit with shock as they set upon his similarly surprised parents, and grew even wider as they locked unwillingly on his mother.
"Ash!" Delia shrieked, her face turning beet red. She hopped off Jay's lap in an instant and grabbed for her shirt, holding it up desperately to shield herself.
"Mom!" Ash cried, his hands flying to his wet eyes to block the sight. His face flustered a bright pink. "Oh man—"
"Ash!" Jay shouted, jumping off the couch in a flash, standing rigidly between Ash and Delia. "What are you doing here?!" he demanded, his eyes flickering angrily at the intruder.
Ash chanced taking his hand away and purposely kept his attention from his mother, though out of the corner of his eye he was thankful to see that she already had quickly put her shirt back on. He sniffled hard and coughed as his crying fit began to regain its strength.
"It's awful! I can't go b-back there!" he wailed, his voice trembling. "I hate it there! I can't be there any longer!"
"What are you talking about?" Jay growled, clutching his fists at his sides. "You'd better be going back—"
"I won't go back!" Ash screeched determinedly, the tears spilling down his cheeks, stinging his raw face. He stamped his foot with enough force to rattle the floor. "It's hell there! Making me go was cruel! It was unf-fair! I won't go, I won't!"
"Ash…" Delia said, her voice cracking with worry. She came up beside Jay. "What's the matter?"
"Mama—" Ash started, his voice forming into a soft whimper.
"Nothing's the matter here," Jay answered her, his eyes glaring sternly at Ash. "He's going back."
Ash stamped his foot hard again, the tremor of its aftermath sparking more impatience in Jay. "I won't!" he pouted, throwing his fists down. "You can't make me!"
Jay's nostrils flared. "Ashton, you are GOING BACK THERE!"
Ash flinched as his father's booming voice echoed throughout the house, but that didn't stop him. "NO!" he sobbed.
Delia was holding onto Jay's arm, feeling her husband's body tense as Ash defied him again. This was not good, and with a nervous gulp, she tried to look firmly at her distraught son.
"Ash, go back to Gary's," she ordered him gently, finding it so hard not to rush up and cradle him, comfort him.
"No!" Ash bawled.
"Ash, GO BACK TO GARY'S!" Jay bellowed, his wife's grip tightening as he did so.
Ash winced considerably at the order, which was much louder than the first. He couldn't help it as he instinctively backed up, his lower lip quivering. It had been many years since his father had yelled at him like this. The murderous glare Jay was giving him was enough to make him tremble, but Ash wasn't going to give in. Collecting himself bravely once again, Ash shook his head. The tears had not ceased to fall.
"I said no!" Ash shot back, more out of resentment than bravery. "I'd rather die! I hate him! And I hate you! I won't go!"
"Jay…" Delia said timidly, sensing the anger radiating from her husband. Her eyes darted uneasily from Jay to Ash. "Calm down."
But Jay wasn't calming down. He clenched his fists even tighter, continuing to frown at his wailing son. He couldn't believe this was happening—their night had been going so perfectly. But it wasn't going to be this way. He was going to get his romantic night with his wife, and this was not going to stop it. Ash was going back to Gary's whether he liked it or not. It was going to end—right now.
"Ashton," Jay said, his voice brewing with warning, "I'm going to give you till the count of ten to turn around, walk out that door and go back to Gary's house. Understand me? And God help you if you don't."
Ash's eyes clouded over with fright. His dad meant business. But as much as this scared him, he wasn't going to give in. Not a second time. There was no force strong enough in the world that could drag him back to Gary's house, not even his father. He wasn't going to allow it. Bad things would arise from this, but nothing could be worse than going back to Gary's, and he shakily bit his lips as Jay started the countdown.
"One," Jay muttered, blinking long and hard. Ash stopped breathing, but did nothing else.
"Two."
Delia couldn't bear any more of it. Grimacing, she let go of Jay and turned around, seating herself on the couch. Startled, Ash watched in trepidation as she did this. It was her obvious signal to let him know she wasn't on his side this time around. If she was going to stop this, she would have done it right away. But instead she sat, removing herself from the situation, allowing whatever was going to happen happen.
Mom… Ash could only think.
"Three."
Ash continued to stare almost desperately at his mother, who seemed to want to glance anywhere but her son, making Ash shiver. Was she…afraid of what was going to happen to him? He couldn't read her mind, although there was no doubt she looked uneasy. For a split second, Ash felt sorry for causing all this, but the thought quickly vanished; she had no idea how she had hurt him that night.
"Four."
But that didn't stop the grim reality of what was taking place now. Only split seconds went by as the countdown dwindled dangerously, and Jay was tensing up more at each number. Ash standing there stubbornly made his anger grow. The boy must know what was going to happen! If his son had any smarts in him, he would've shot towards Gary's house already. At that point, Jay knew that he was dealing with something entirely different. But it didn't matter. He was going to win this thing. He just hoped, though, that he wasn't going to regret the means he would use to make sure.
He prayed that sooner or later Ash would go, for little did Ash know, Jay dreaded the end of the countdown just as much as his son.
"Five."
Ash looked at the ground, his arms clutched around his waist. The tears ran down his cheeks, and he sniffled a few times to clear his runny nose. His lip continued to quiver, and he slowly shook his head back and forth. He was nowhere near done crying—how could he possibly suppress it now? Delia turned to the situation for a moment, but as Jay uttered the number six, she turned away disgustedly again.
As the seven came Ash's heartrate began to violently accelerate. It was a mix between his fear of going back and his fear of Jay. Either way he looked at it, the circumstances were not going to be good. It was then that panic forcefully hit him, prompting his body to react. The eight was barely out of Jay's mouth before Ash bolted—not out the door like he was told, but straight up the stairs.
"HEY!" Jay cried as he witnessed his son dart, immediately dashing off after him.
Ash ran as hard and fast as he could up the stairs, terror pumping his adrenaline. He hoped and prayed his balance wouldn't betray him, that he wouldn't trip and Jay would snare him. Miraculously, he did not fall, and he reached the top, spun around the corner, and made it to his room. Jay was about at the middle of the stairs when he heard his son's door slam.
"ASHTON!" Jay bawled, banging his fist loudly on the wall. "Get back down here!"
Delia finally hopped up from the couch and sprinted to her raging husband. A look of critical appeal invaded her face. "Jay, please, stop it!" she cried, feeling her own eyes sting her tears. "Just stop already!"
"No, Delia!" Jay yelled back. "I won't stand for this!" He looked back up the stairs venomously again. "Ash! Get your ass down here, now!"
"Jacey, please!" Delia begged, urgently grabbing him as he made an attempt to ascend the stairs further. "Leave him alone!" She knew he was adamant in getting his hands on Ash, and if she didn't stop him, she'd regret it miserably. Thankfully, she felt Jay check under her hold, and she managed to guide him down the few steps to the landing. His glare was still directed angrily up the stairs, however. Ash wasn't surrendering; the door to his room didn't open. Delia couldn't have been more relieved of successfully putting distance between the two boys.
"Just...leave it alone," she said, maintaining hold of Jay's heaving body. She looked up at him with her sad, glassy eyes. "Please, Jay. We can't do anything about it."
"Oh, we sure as hell can!" Jay contradicted. His voice had settled, but he was still considerably fractious. "He is not going to get away with this! He's not going to ruin this night for us! I'll go up there and break the door down if I have to!"
"Shhhhh. No, you won't, Jay," Delia said gently, reaching up to brush the hair out of his clammy face. "You're going to leave him alone now."
"Yeah, but...but tonight!" Jay lamented, throwing a fist down in frustration. All he could think about was how close they had come, how wonderful the mood had been. His expression was not of anger or authority anymore, it had become that of sadness. "Tonight was our night!"
"Tonight," Delia started with a sigh. "Sweetie, tonight obviously wasn't meant to be."
She watched Jay's face fall, and at last released him. She started for the kitchen, her main incentive to call Gary's house and make sure the other two children were all right. Before she made it there, she turned back to him, her eyes lowered. "And Ash becoming friendly with Gary again obviously wasn't meant to be, either."
As she disappeared into the kitchen, Jay buried his head into his hands. "But it was," he whimpered softly. "It was."
As soon as Ash slammed the door shut to his room, locking it, he stumbled over to his desk chair, the closest thing to support. He practically collided with it, gripping it tightly as he heaved and his knees buckled from exhaustion. He wanted so terribly to stop crying: not only was it depleting him, it was making him feel ill. His stomach wrenched threateningly, and Ash immediately scrambled to calm himself to keep from vomiting. He could feel the hot acid scorching his throat, but with deep, desperate breaths, he was able to rein the sickness in.
Once he gained control of his body, he pivoted towards the door, observing it with terrified anticipation. He waited for the inevitable pounding to come upon it, at which he would have no choice but to do the smart thing and let his father in, otherwise Jay would find a way of doing so himself. What was he thinking—like a locked door could protect him! It was only delaying his inevitable execution. The seconds trickled by as Ash waited and waited, but to his confusion—and tremendous relief—there came no banging on his door. For a moment, Ash didn't want to trust his fortune, but after a few long minutes, it was apparent Jay was no longer after him. The racing of Ash's panicked heart gradually began to die down.
But that only tampered some of his misgiving. What in the world was going on? He pondered this helplessly. He didn't know what the immediate future had in store, but in the next fleeting seconds every face that came to his mind aggrieved him. He hated his parents, he hated Gary. Brock and Misty—no, he didn't hate them. He couldn't hate them. That was impossible. They didn't do anything to him. But then, why weren't they here? Why were they still at Gary's? Why hadn't they supported him more against his parents and against Gary?
Ash pulled at his hair as he thought these things. He could just imagine Gary now, an ice-pack fixed to his swollen, perhaps bleeding, jaw. There was no escaping it. Ash had hit him undoubtedly hard, using every ounce of strength his body contained to do so. Gary was probably excitedly preparing for the moment when he would reveal what Ash had done to him, and soon Jay and Delia would find out about it all. If not from him, from Gary's folks. And then there may be the possibility that Misty and Brock would tell. And Ash would be in even deeper trouble.
What am I saying?! Ash thought. This is Brock and Misty! They're on my side! Why do I think they're not?!
The uncertainty hung in Ash's mind as he miserably dragged himself to his bed. Suddenly, however, a light scratching came upon his door. Recognizing it immediately, he sprang to the door a bit too exigently. Catching himself, though, he proceeded to unlock and open it cautiously. Ash smiled for the first time that night as Pikachu slipped quickly through the smallest of gaps Ash provided.
"Pikachu!" Ash cried, instantly locking the door again. He swept the pokémon into his arms and hugged him tightly. "At least you made it back here with me!"
"Pika," Pikachu agreed, nuzzling his trainer's face.
Effectively battening down, Ash extinguished the light and carted Pikachu up to bed, seating himself softly and allowing the mouse to curl up in his lap. As he began to stroke Pikachu's back, he found himself gazing out the window at the deep, dark sky and taking in the calming tones of the night. He filled his lungs with air slow and long and deliberately, trying hard to ultimately bring peace to his strained body. Hearing nary a sound from downstairs and no demand at his door calmed him for sure, but the fallout of the disastrous night had already taken its toll, and he knew it wasn't over yet. Jay wasn't going to deal with him now, but he would eventually. The house's haunting stillness brought about another plaguing question, however.
Where are you guys? he thought, calling out mentally to Brock and Misty. How come…you never came?
Ash brought his hand up to his face, gently massaging his bloated eyes. The area underneath stung at his touch. He wondered about many things…about his friends, about the evening...about his parents. How could they have put him through such distress? What had possessed them to react to his misfortune their respective ways, his dad especially? He had come home crying, in need of comfort, and they had shown no compassion. And when he would have to face them again, he was sure there would be no mercy, particularly after such a riot. He couldn't bear thinking about, so he tried not to. All his concentration focused out the window, at the stars.
Why, God…? he prayed, feeling the sensation of loneliness wrack his body effortlessly. Why is this happening to me?
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
