The master writer who wrote the unnoticed but AMAZING Hybreds (yes is that is how it is spelled) series (which was taken down for some reason) seems to have vanished off the face of the Earth, dead or otherwise incapacitated, all I have left (besides the files he sent me that I have no right to post) is this POV of Ash during the nanite plague that TR unleashes upon the world.

He's awake. Or is he? He can't tell anymore. Both the dreaming and waking world are equally strange. He could be dreaming and wouldn't know the difference anymore. It's swelteringly hot, only to be an endless wave of chills the next. He has a feeling he's thought this all before. He can't remember if he has or hasn't. It's all blur. He remembers saying good-bye to his mother. He remembers, going on a trip the Lake of Rage. They were planning on meeting up Brock and Tracy there. He thinks they were about half way from Pallet that day when they set up camp here. Or one forth there? Three forth?! He can't remember! Misty had gone for a walk. A sick Jolteon had wandered into camp while she was gone. No, no that wasn't right. The Jolteon was tried and battered but it wasn't sick. That came later. After healing it up Ash decided to take it, him, along with them. They'd gone though New Bark Town when Misty, like being struck by a hammer, got feverishly ill. The Jolteon volunteer to keep an eye on her. (a human disease wasn't likely to effect a pokemon right?). She didn't get better. The next day Ash (or was it a few days later?) went out for someone to help, he met someone, he screamed in terror when Ash told him Misty was sick and went off running after throwing a medical stuff in his face. He got back. Jolteon was sick too. Pikachu went inside first, and something scared him, something bad. Ash got in and look at her. Her skin wasn't the right color. It was blue. Not sick blue, but a different shade of blue, he couldn't remember quite where now. He brushed his hand against her forehead, it burned, he panicked to get her sweet off, she was sweating acid. She kept changing as the days went by, the medicines helped keep her fever down, but nothing could stop what was happening to her. She soon sprouted what was easily mistaken for a mermaid's tail. Veporion! That's what that color was! He dreamed. Was it a dream? If a Veporion with very human eyes look at him and drive into the sea never to be seen by him again. He saw Misty crying in her sleep. He wondered what she was crying about. Then the blurr came. He didn't know what was going on. He felt pain though out his body as if someone was taking him apart piece by piece and gluing him back together inside out. On the occasions he could open his eyes, he could see his hand, but it wasn't quite his hand, he saw yellow spiky hair covering it. A strange shape began obscuring his view, it took him a few times to realize it was a muzzle. He remembered soft hands touching him gently, and a sweet voice he remembered from somewhere telling him it would be all right. He some times found the strength to turn over and saw Pikachu and Jolteon and a Veporion all sickly ill curled up or lying besides him. He connected the Veporion with Misty, but she (it was a she, her body shape was unmistakable) looked at him once, she had brown eyes, it couldn't be her, Misty's eyes were topaz.
He remembers sitting next to Misty at one point. Her soft scales pressing against his stiff fur. She says they should go somewhere. He can't remember where. Then him suggesting they go home. She then startles him by saying something about having children. Then the blurr again. He keeps having broken images of fighting humanoid pokemon at Indigo Stadium. The pain refuses to go away. Nothing wants to focus in front of him.
He dreams he sees his mother looking over him, her face is covered in red/orange fur, her ears are larger than they should be, he see a line of white fur going down her neck. He can feel the increased heat from her in his dream.
"Mom?" He dreams himself saying. "What happened to you?"
"Don't worry Ash." His mother says calmly. "sleep now. We're going home." She says.
Sleep? But wasn't he already dreaming? Or was everything else before . . . the dream.

Flames, comments, good or bad reviews, suggestions, reactions, occasional constructive criticism all welcome. Spelling corrections also welcome as long as you tell what you think of the story itself too.