Author's Notes: if you haven't read Descent into Rancor by now, you shouldn't be reading this!!! READ THAT ONE FIRST! I really don't think this fic is stand-alone in the slightest. I think this chapter is WAY better than the first, but I'm going down that angst road again when I wanted this one to be mostly action/adventure. Oh well. A couple of chapters of angst won't hurt what I have in mind and upcoming. Review please! Talk to me on any instant messenger—it's fun, and I really don't have many people on MSN. Ja!
Blood Destiny
Damnation Like Burning
And the fires flood the earth, carrying the scent of brimstone into the already crumbling buildings, but it was welcomed, and the citizens didn't care.
"Burn in hell!" they shouted, "burn like one who kills her lover burns!"
Misty choked on the smoke that was rapidly rising from the mediocre fire beneath her feet, but the heat it omitted began to draw a sweat from her naked flesh as it ate and devoured the pile of wood set out for it. Misty tried to be bold, but she couldn't help coughing and tearing. It probably didn't matter; no one could probably see her from the massive amount of smoke that fanned before her.
You tried to suck blood from the lips of angels, so death awaits the demon.
It was her death chant, and it rang through her ears as sparks leapt up and stung her flesh. She could hardly pay attention to the pain, however, when the funeral was going on right in front of her stake. She could hardly see it through the smoke, but she could hear it—she could hear the silence since everyone was dead, dead, dead.
The air was cold and swept the smoke toward malnourished birds to choke and beguile them as well. As the world spun into oblivion, the browning, dying trees fleshed deep green, and the moisture thick gray sky faded into a deep wine red, sparkling and jumping, the clouds a rolling orange, mimicking the fire. The trees were burning soon enough, sparkling red—a crimson tribute to the demon—
"Brock," Misty whispered into his ear, shaking his shoulder gently. She looked up at Ash who stood behind her, "I think I saw his eyelids move."
"Brock," Gary shook his other shoulder, quite roughly. "Brock! Get up!"
"Huh?" Brock licked his lips, feeling a flavor with his tongue that very much resembled a rusted key.
"You've been passed out for a while," she bit her lip, "we found you here like this."
"What the hell were you doing on the roof?" Gary frowned at him, "you wanna break every bone in your damn body?"
"I was on the roof?" Brock blinked slowly. "I don't remember ever being on the roof," he groaned, and then tried to get up.
"No no," Misty pushed his shoulder back down, "don't get up."
Brock's head swam around for a moment, and then was flooded by images of crackling red and orange. He was about to be picked up and carried into the house when he decided to ask a question.
"Have any of you ever been dead in a dream, and the point of view of your dream was from another person, and—"
"Shh," Misty put a finger to his lips, "not now."
"You really don't remember being on the roof?" Gary was loudly disbelieving, "what, did you sleepwalk there?"
It was the first time that Brock began to notice that it was night time, and that it was cold. He shivered a little and closed his eyes.
"Why, Brock," Misty looked at him sternly, "we need each other now! Yes the situation is bad, but did you ever stop to think that it would be worse for us if you killed yourself? Huh?"
"No no," Brock gulped, "I don't want to kill myself--I really, really don't want to, I don't know why or how or--"
"Let him alone Misty," Gary ordered as they began carrying him, "I'm sure scolding him will make him happier!"
"I'm stressed too!" Misty shouted, "but you don't see me running around jumping off of roofs, do you!"
"But I didn't—" Brock began, but went unheard.
"Doesn't mean you have to be an insensitive bitch," Gary snapped, "it's not like your only remaining family member basically told you to go to fucking hell—"
"Guys, I don't want to kill myself," Brock tried to interrupt weakly.
Ash looked down at Brock sympathetically as Misty and Brock shouted at each other. Electricity began to build in Pikachu's angered cheeks as it rested on Ash's shoulder.
"Look guys," Ash shouted for Brock, "he said he honestly doesn't know how he got there, okay? Let's just get him inside and not argue about it."
"I don't have to listen to you," Gary grumbled, "what am I supposed to do, just shut up while she bitches out--"
"Please, please stop," Brock moaned, unable to cover his face with his eyes as he desired. "Stop, stop, stop, stop," he repeated softly over and over, unable to escape the arguing as he was too weak to speak loudly.
"But you're just making things worse!" Ash yelled back at Gary.
"Sometimes people need to be put in their place!" Gary spat.
"You didn't put me in my place!" Misty snapped, "all you ever do is think you're God above all and try and tell everyone else what is what!"
"Pika!" Pikachu yelled in the harshest voice it could manage, ready to shock everyone.
"Control your rat Ash!" Gary shouted, "it'll make us all fall!"
"You guys will!" Ash shouted, "we're not even moving! We're standing here shouting! And it's starting to rain! Now move for crying out loud!"
"Put me down," Brock begged, and began squirming. "Put me down!"
"Quit moving Brock we might drop you," Gary ordered.
Brock closed his eyes tightly and grumbled, jerking sharply to the right and forcing everyone to drop him in the freshly forming mud.
"Leave me alone," he coughed, trying to get the wind to return to his aching lungs. He began to pull himself with his hands as he didn't think he had the strength to walk.
"Can't you just stop this?" Misty shouted. "We've had enough trouble!"
"Shut up," Gary pointed a haughty finger at her, "it's your fault, he's even worse off than he was now!"
Ash narrowed his eyes and muttered under his breath, then walked over to Brock and lifted his chin.
"I'm sorry," he sighed. "But trust me, we're not trying that again."
Brock just nodded dizzily as Ash lifted his upped half and wrapped his arms around his neck, then stood. Brock hung off Ash's back, his feet dragging in the mud all the way to the gym while Gary and Misty still yelled at each other, freezing as the rain crawled into their clothes and soaked their skin.
"Ash!" a familiar voice shouted as he walked into the door. "You found him! Here, let me help you!"
Ash nodded gratefully as they turned Brock over, Ash carrying his front half, May carrying him by the ankles.
Ash stared blankly at Brock's shirt, avoiding May's eyes. He still felt scalded by their first encounter. He knew that she didn't mean to hurt him—and that in this state, it certainly wasn't meant to be—but it was hard to keep a level head. Very hard.
The gym seemed to be like a war bunker more than anything, and Ash's hands left a small smudge on the glass of the window as he ran his fingers down it, incredibly unimpressed with what his world had become. The buildings stood, but their hearts were torn out. The once busy swarm of streets was now a vacuum frozen in time. Dusty gray earth dilating throughout the empty space by what was obviously sadness induced wind kept everyone inside, it seemed.
Somehow while he was staring he missed a figure sneak up to the front door, and thus was startled and nearly fell off his perch kneeling backwards on the sofa when it opened.
The person who opened it was equally startled—dressed in a body suit of black and carrying a disgustingly large machete behind her back, she jumped about three feet into the air upon noticing Ash's presence.
Ash held up his hands in surrender quickly, "I'm not an intruder," he explained quickly, "ask Tracey before doing anything hasty--"
The unknown Espiritu, however, simply pulled down her mask and blinked at Ash, her mouth slightly open, not quite knowing what to make of him.
"You," she sputtered, her eyes frosting over with tears of disbelief, "you're home?"
"Yeah," Ash looked at the woman's face searchingly, trying to figure out who she was. "Didn't anyone tell you?"
"I was just on a long mission," the woman gulped, her feet edging over towards Ash slowly, her hands trembling at her sides to match her lips as the tears in her eyes grew heavier. "I just got back."
Ash decided to stand. The woman was gorgeous—her hair was about the length of her chin and dusty blonde, and she sported vacant blue eyes which forged a pain into his heart. She had a faint, faint scar on her forehead in a circular shape, and Ash knew who she was.
Without any words, Ash ran up to his beloved May and took her into his arms. He cried into her hair as he realized that even though he was taller than her, she was twenty-three years older. She did look incredibly good for her age.
"I thought you died, Ash," May cried into his shoulder as well, "you and Gary, I thought you both died."
"We might as well have," Ash hugged her even more tightly, "we were gone for so long—"
May pulled back from him, and he wiped her streaming tears with his thumb, putting his hand behind her neck delicately as he did so. His heart pounded as he watched her lips slightly parted in disbelief, and her eyes narrowed slightly as they became flooded with emotion.
"Where were you?" she gulped. "You haven't aged a day!"
"The Mistakes sent us into the future," Ash explained, massaging her neck lightly as he did so. "Yesterday we were in Pewter, giving the gym to the league. Today we're back in Pewter—but obviously the league isn't in control of the gym."
"We use this one because the Cerulean Gym is gone," May explained, her breathing slowing as she did so.
Ash gulped loudly, drawing his face closer to the woman in front of him. "I hope no one was still in it," he looked away from her momentarily, but had to bring his eyes back. "Most of Espiritu headquarters was underground, right?"
May nodded. "But we had to escape—the Mistakes destroyed it after you disappeared. I don't know how they knew where it was—but we don't have much equipment anymore. Only the small group of people opposing the Mistakes. That's all we are, really."
"I'm so glad you're well now," Ash smiled weakly at her, "even doing missions. It's great."
"I know," May smiled back, but stiffened a little as Ash put his hand onto her waist.
Butterfrees gurgled in Ash's stomach as they stood in silence for a second, and he tilted her chin up with the hand he was previously massaging it with, then pressed his lips onto hers, attempting to part her lips with his own. She dove into the kiss as well, and Ash ran his hands up and down her back gently, his tongue flickering delicately into her mouth.
"Wait, Ash," May pushed him away, breathing as if still caught up in the moment.
"No, you wait May," Ash embraced her tightly, "I know we have a huge age difference now, but I still want to be with you, I still—"
"It's not that, Ash," May began crying once again, then lifted her hand in front of Ash's face, exposing a thin golden band with a diamond solitaire on top of it, "I'm married—when you left, I fell in love."
Ash became stunned, and withdrew from his impassioned embrace quickly. "I'm sorry, I'm s-s-orry-- I had no idea!"
"It's all right," May tried to hug him again, but Ash pulled away stiffly, "I can't blame you for feeling like that—twenty years ago I did too."
Ash put a hand on his forehead, and May patted his back gently. "I never thought I would see you again," she explained quietly. "I—I was so depressed after you two disappeared, I couldn't get myself to do anything—but when the Mistakes found our base of operations and smoked us out—well, I was saved by the man I now love, and I was taught to live again. Ash, I'm sorry, if I knew you lived still I—"
But Ash put a shaking finger to May's lips, and embraced her in a friendly manner, closing his eyes slowly as he gently pressed his fingers into the small of her back. May stood agape when they finally pulled away, and Ash's eyes glossed over as he began a shaky speech.
"I'm glad, May," he managed to say, his throat becoming too dry to bear, "you're looking great, and no one could blame you for not waiting twenty-three years for someone dead. I—it would be nice to meet him—it's—"
May smiled weakly as she blushed and turned away. "I think you've already met him," she put a curled hand to her lips, her eyes shimmering with what seemed to be pride, and Ash blinked in incomprehension.
"I don't think you guys knew," she breathed in lightly, "but Tracey was an Espiritu, that's why he was there—there to save me."
Ash almost took a step back, but managed not to. He was elated, glad that she married someone he knew was nice—but felt blood rush to his cheeks as he pictured Tracey in his mind.
I have to be happy for her, and him, he told him self. I have to.
Ash was told before that Tracey was an Espiritu, but he had forgotten just as quickly until seeing him again, in the future. It seemed that ever since then Tracey was in charge of everything they did—made leader of every mission. At first Ash was stoked to be working closely with an old friend—even if the old was now literal—but recently all he'd seen in that gathering room were images of Tracey going down the isle with Gary Oak's gorgeous sister.
He and May carried Brock all the way to his room, but couldn't lay him on the bed because of his mud and rain soaked clothing.
"You'd better get him into fresh clothes," May nodded to Ash.
Ash nodded, smirking a little as he thought that the job would better suit either Misty or Gary. Blood flushed to Ash's face again as he recalled that conversation with Tracey. Ash became seethingly jealous over something as inconsequential to him as observation skills—he really needed to get a grip. But at least he understood that Misty and Gary's constant bickering wasn't because that's just how they were, like he thought before.
May left the room with a quiet click of the door, and Ash's attentions diverted to Brock.
"I really didn't get on that roof," Brock said once again, his face convoluting in nervousness.
Ash put a hand to Brock's head, then removed it, not feeling a fever. He walked over and grabbed some pajamas from a drawer before continuing the conversation.
"I believe you," Ash tried to calm him. "You could have been sleepwalking," Ash continued as he unbuttoned Brock's mud-crusted pants with shaky hands, desiring to turn away yet also desiring not to be so immature, "were you asleep, then ended up on the ground?"
Brock gulped, shivering a little as his legs became exposed to the air, "I—I want to say yes—can you tell Misty and Gary that that's what happened? Please?"
Ash's eyes widened. Sleepwalking was the only reason he could possibly think of for the occurrence. Even that would have been scary enough. "What's the truth then?" Ash bit his lip, struggling to pull pajama bottoms up onto Brock's still damp legs. Ash was considering toweling his friend off first—but decided not to leave Brock long enough to go get a towel.
"I was talking to May," he sighed, "and I don't remember anything after that. I remember talking to her about training, so we could be Espiritus, Ash, and then I suddenly don't remember. Please, don't let her tell Gary and Misty that—let them think I was asleep—please."
"I'll tell her," Ash nodded decisively, moving on to removing Brock's shirt. Brock winced as he had to lift his sore arms, but Ash found him to be very compliant as he was changed.
Ash got up to open the door and have May help him carry Brock to bed.
Ash knew there was some sort of illness where people could have sudden sleeping spells, and that's what Brock had to have. He didn't know how he was going to tell Brock that May already informed them that he just ran like hell out of the room all of the sudden, and that's why they'd been searching for him—but he had no idea that they were talking about something beforehand.
May and Ash carried Brock to his bed in silence, Ash avoiding her eyes as best he could.
"Ash," Brock pleaded, not wanting his friend to leave him, "what if I'm losing my mind? What will happen to me?"
"You're not losing your mind," Ash patted Brock's hand. "It's probably because of stress. May—we should tell everyone that he fell asleep before this happened, not that you guys were talking."
"But they're in the living room," May blinked, "I already told them we were just talking, and—"
"You can't tell them he fell asleep while you guys were talking and then did it?" Ash pleaded with his eyes, the first time he looked into hers in quite a while. "I heard before that that happens to people sometimes—"
"I don't think people can get narcolepsy all of the sudden," May bit her lip, "and it'll seem strange that I add that to my story now—"
"Please?" Brock interjected.
"I'll try," May sighed. "Don't blame me if they don't swallow it."
"Thanks," Ash whispered.
Ash and May left the room, set to give the new explanation. After opening the door, they found Misty right behind it.
"I want to talk to Brock," she coughed, looking at the floor and fidgeting with her jacket. "I need to talk to him."
"Misty," Ash began, "he really didn't try to—"
"It doesn't matter," Misty interrupted, "I just need to talk to him."
Ash was about to try and press his story onto her once again, but paused, just nodding and letting her pass by.
"My," May patted him on the back as they went into the living room, "how mature you've become since the last time I saw you."
"It was two days," Ash muttered.
Misty wondered if Brock was sleeping when she saw him lying on the bed, under a blanket, with his eyes closed. Her steps toward the bed hardly made a sound, and she took relatively few breaths as she edged closer to the bed.
"Misty," Brock opened his eyes slightly, "did they tell you? I was asleep—I didn't really mean to—"
Misty stopped his hurried words by leaning over and pressing her lips to his, gathering his hands in her own as she did so.
"Forgive me," she lowered her eyes, placing her head on his chest.
"You're not mad?" Brock blinked, putting a hand on Misty's head and running his fingers through her hair. "You're really not mad?"
Misty slowly lifted her head and looked up at him, grabbing his hand in her own. "No, I'm not mad. Not mad at all."
"I'm so glad," Brock swallowed hard, then closed his eyes.
Scared, Misty thought, a little bit of that is what I am.
"Jimmy!" Meowth ran stiff-legged and jumped into his friend's arms, "it's true! Dey said it to me today, she really did talk to her brodah!"
"Um," James winced as he stroked the old pokemon's head, "from what I heard, what she said wasn't exactly a great example of sibling love."
"I don't care what she said," Meowth purred as he giddily spoke, "da fact dat she said some-ting at all is good enough."
"Great way to look at the bright side of things," James grinned as he patted Meowth's head. "Where is she now?"
"Off poutin' in her room," Meowth shrugged as best his old bones could, "she was yellin' at me and everyting, it was great."
"Why is that great?" James was confused, "she's always nice to you."
"Dats what was so great about it," Meowth wanted to scratch James' face for being such a dim bulb, but he was too lazy. "She yelled at Brock, den she yelled at me. She's getin' more lively every day!"
"Sometimes I don't see why you even care," Jesse grumbled from the corner, "she's just psychotic, you should move on with your life."
"Jesse," Meowth looked up at her with a frown, "I'm da only person she has now, it would be cruel ta just forget about her."
"That's her fault!" Jesse shouted, turning away from her computer and her work entirely. "We wanted to be there for her! But she just refused to let anyone else in!"
"Well you'd probably be a little psychotic yourself if ya had happen to you what had happened ta her," Meowth retorted, crossing his arms across his chest.
James smiled at the entirely human gesture, as Meowth had taken to walking on all fours since becoming arthritic, and it reminded him of how Meowth used to be.
"I've lost people I love too," Jesse crossed her arms back at him, "and it didn't make me antisocial!"
"Or maybe it did," Meowth muttered inaudibly.
"Come on now Meowth," James whispered to him, "she's just upset that after all we did for Katie, she didn't love us back."
"I undastand," Meowth sighed. "But she didn't hafta ruin my good mood."
"Well remember what put you in it in the first place," James scratched Meowth behind the ears.
"Yeah," Meowth closed his eyes and purred some more, "you're right."
"Huh?" James turned around suddenly as he heard a knocking sound. "Who's that rapping at my chamber door?"
"Funny Jim," Meowth jumped from his lap, allowing James to get up to answer it.
"Hey Tracey," James shook the head Espiritu's hand as he opened the door, "what brings you to our humble room?"
"I," Tracey looked at the floor nervously, "I need advice, and I thought you guys would be best to ask."
"What's wrong?" Jesse furrowed her eyebrows as she stood and left her computer. "Did something happen?"
"Yeah," Tracey gritted his teeth together as he thought about it, "I knew our security measures weren't good enough. But I guess it's too late now."
"Well," James prodded him with a hand on the shoulder, "what is it?"
Tracey gulped and stepped backwards from the door, looking towards the left as he replied. "Come with me, I'll show you."
James carried the slow-moving Meowth as they made their way to the weapons storage area below the gym.
"That smell," Jesse blanched as the world surrounding them grew darker, "I can't take it, it's so bad."
"I found this when Zack and Sydney didn't show up for breakfast this morning," Tracey's eyes fell, the folds of skin around them narrowing as if he'd aged years within a few months, "and I don't want to tell anyone else."
Tracey closed his eyes sharply as he turned on the light, unable to look forward, but he could still hear James drop to his knees and Jesse stomp closer to the victims.
"You have to tell people," Jesse whirled back around, and Tracey finally opened his eyes to look at her. "They have to be taken out of here and buried."
"That's not all," Tracey ignored her comment, pointing to the unhinged door to the weapons room, "look, the weapons inside, they're dismantled and mangled, currently unusable."
"Well," Jesse stomped a foot, "we've got to go tell everyone! We've been attacked by the Mistakes! Why keep it a secret?"
"Because," Tracey looked to the floor again, "because they'll blame Brock."
"What?" James stood back up shakily, "why in God's name would they do that?"
"He was missing last night," Tracey pursed his lips, "for several hours. He was found passed out in front of the gym. It was assumed he'd jumped off the roof."
"Then he must have done it!" Jesse shouted, "and we need to stop him!"
"That's exactly why I didn't want to tell anyone!" Tracey shouted through clenched teeth, "look at this mess! A human couldn't have done it! Look at Zack! Look at Sydney! Ripped to shreds, and no one heard them scream!"
"I've seen that kid do some pretty inhuman things," James admitted quietly.
"But James!" Meowth interjected, "I hoid Katie talk about Brock all da time, dey loved him, he was a very gentle person, I don't tink—"
"But he's not the same person," Jesse added.
"I hate my position here," Tracey grumbled. "I know I'm not cut out for this job—but I really don't think Brock did this. I don't even know him very well, but do you realize the problems this could cause? I don't want to accuse anyone until we know for sure—Gary would go ballistic defending him, there would be problems with May and her brother."
"And problems with Katie," Meowth grumbled, "I know she's actin' mad at Brock, but I also know dat she'll come around. She's happy he's here. Just overwhelmed."
"But we can't let this happen more!" Jesse argued. "What if it is Brock? Then what?"
"What if it isn't?" James argued right back. "He's right. We shouldn't upset everyone without proof. But I have just one question—why don't you think Misty would be the one to go insane defending him?"
"Misty's been an Espiritu for too long," Tracey replied, "she's in love, yes, but not blindly. Unlike Gary."
Jesse and Meowth's eyes both widened, and James walked over to Tracey, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"We'll take care of them, for now," he looked away, "we really can't accuse anyone without proof."
"But James—" Jesse became indignant.
"I probably am wrong about this, Jesse," James admitted, "but I don't think the twerp did it. He might have been a part of it, a pawn to make the mistakes try and rip our group to shreds, but I really don't think he did this."
"And it would rip us to shreds," Jesse agreed.
"Don't you think it's sweet," a hand rested on Ash's shoulder, and an unfamiliar voice spoke into the frosty night air, "how Gary and May reconciled, like that? Just like that? They're talking now, on the sofa. It's sweet."
Ash patted the hand that was on his shoulder, feeling as if he were dealing with a delicate bird, one that would fly away if he did the slightest thing wrong. He thought that by coming outside into the miserable weather and sitting on the porch he could certainly be alone, but he was found. He prayed that Misty was taking good care of Pikachu during his incredibly lacking alone time.
"I guess you could call it sweet," he shrugged, "but I just think that's what you should do when you're reunited with someone you haven't seen in a long time. If my mom was here, I'd be with her too."
"Now we're both orphans," the girl said coldly, sitting down next to Ash as she did so.
"Thanks for reminding me," Ash growled.
"You know," the girl wrapped one arm around Ash's shoulders, and the other around his waist. "I've never—been—with anyone."
Her hands began to travel, and Ash shoved her away gently.
"Me neither," he muttered, "and I want to keep it that way."
"You don't think I should be mad at all, do you," the girl edged away from Ash. "It's not your fault. It's not his fault. It's not her fault. That's what everyone keeps telling me. That I can't be reasoned with."
"It's not his fault," Ash sighed. "They're right. Don't you love him at all?"
"I don't think I love anyone anymore," the girl stood and twirled in a circle. "Nope, don't think I do."
"You don't even love Meowth," Ash blinked in surprise, "after taking care of you all this time?"
"Oh," Katie laughed, a little too loudly, "Meowth! That's different! Yes, I love Meowth. But I need to stop. Because he's going to die someday too. And then I'll be alone."
"But you wouldn't be," Ash tried to reason, but was tiring of it quickly, "there are lots of people who would be with you, if you'd let them."
Katie sat back down, resting her head on Ash's shoulder.
"Would you?" she ran her hand down his shoulder, "you wouldn't be with me, would you?"
Ash immediately strung a lie saying that he would, because even though she was incredible looking, with a deep tan and long red hair—she was psychotic. And insensitive.
"Don't do this, Katie," Ash sighed, "you should go and talk to Brock."
"Why would he want to talk to me after the way I acted," she frowned, throwing some rocks onto the ground in front of her.
Ash smiled suddenly, feeling that she might not be so insane after all.
"Of course he wants you to talk to him!" Ash contradicted her quickly, "he forgives you already! Seriously! He'd love it if you talked to him!"
"Should I?" she wondered, stopping all movement for a moment as she considered.
"Yes!" Ash replied to her rhetoric, "yes, you should!"
"No," she turned away, then stood and walked back to the door, "if I do, I might start loving him all over again, and then he'd leave me."
"Wait!" Ash turned around to follow her as she walked into the building, "even if you do lose him, isn't it better to be happy now?"
"No," Katie replied bitterly. "I don't think it is."
And with that she slammed the door in Ash's face.
