"Ash, baby, can you hear me?"
Delia sat down next to her son and gently took his hand, being careful not to dislodge the IV line nor the tangled mass of wires that were connected to the beeping, flashing monitors that were keeping a constant readout of Ash's vital signs.
"Mommy's here, sweetheart. And I'm going to stay right here until you wake up." Delia lifted her son's hand to her lips and gently kissed it.
Misty started sobbing and Brock took her into his arms.
"There, Misty. It's all right," he said soothingly as he began stroking her back.
Pikachu, who was curious at the sight of his friend lying amid a bunch of wires and tubes, hopped onto the bed and peered into Ash's face. "Pika?" He sniffed Ash's face and nudged him slightly. "Pika-pi?"
"It's no use, Pikachu," Brock told the worried Pokémon. "Ash can't hear you right now."
Gary quickly snatched up Pikachu as he saw sparks beginning to fly from the electric Pokémon's cheeks.
"Hey, watch it, Pikachu! I know you want to help, but shocking Ash right now wouldn't be a good idea."
Pikachu wiggled out of Gary's grasp and leapt back onto the bed. Curling himself up at Ash's feet, Pikachu closed his eyes, determined to remain by his friend's side.
"Excuse me, everyone," the nurse on duty interrupted as she entered the room. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask all of you to leave except for Mrs. Ketchum. Visiting hours are over."
"Oh, Brock, I don't want to leave Ash," Misty gulped as she fought back more tears.
"Me neither, but Ash needs to get some rest," Brock said as he gathered up his backpack. "We'll be back first thing tomorrow morning."
"Yeah, and I've gotta get ready for tomorrow's sixth-round match," Gary said as he followed the two teens to the door.
"Come on, Pikachu," Misty said.
"Pikachu!" the Pokémon said, shaking its head in refusal.
"It's all right," Delia assured them. "Let Pikachu stay here. If the nurse says anything, I'll just hide him under the blanket."
"G'night, Mrs. Ketchum," Gary said with one last glance at Ash. "And don't worry. Ash is too stubborn to die."
---
Early the next morning, Professor Oak silently opened the door to the hospital room and saw an auburn-haired woman with very red eyes sitting in a chair, clutching her son's limp hand.
"Delia?" he said softly.
Startled, she looked up in amazement. "Samuel? What are you doing here? I thought you were at the conference at Valencia Island."
"I heard the news and came back as fast as I could," Professor Oak said as he entered the room and approached Ash's bedside. "How's he doing?"
Delia managed a weak smile. "Holding his own."
Professor Oak studied the readout on the monitors. As a scientist, he was interested in data, numbers -- tangible evidence of Ash's condition. He then turned to the unconscious boy and gently touched his shoulder. "Ash? It's Professor Oak. Can you hear me?"
As he gazed at the boy's pale, still face, he was amazed that this was the same boy who just a week ago was jumping around the lab, bragging that he was "gonna kick Gary's butt". (He had even yelled at Ash for Cyndaquil's overzealous Flamethrower attack during a mock battle that had destroyed several of his rosebushes.) After scratching the head of the sleeping Pikachu (and observing that all of its front claws were broken from trying to dig Ash free from the rubble), Professor Oak sat down in the chair opposite Delia and regarded her with a concerned expression.
"And how are you doing, Delia?"
"All right," she said in a voice that clearly indicated that she wasn't. "It's Ash that we need to be worried about, not me."
"But I am worried about you." She looked worse than her son did. "Did you sleep at all last night?"
Delia shook her head. "No. I'm going to stay right here until my baby wakes up."
"Delia, you need to get some sleep. Have you eaten anything?"
Delia shrugged her shoulders. "I don't remember."
"Then that means that you probably haven't. Look, why don't you go back to your hotel and lie down for a while? I'll stay here with Ash."
"I am staying here until my son wakes up, Samuel," Delia told him firmly.
Seeing the determination in her eyes, he knew better than to argue with her. He knew exactly where Ash got his stubborn temperment from.
"All right. But at least eat something." He fished around in the pocket of his lab coat. "Here." He handed her a package of peanuts. "I didn't feel much like eating on the plane."
She took the foil packet from him and placed it on the table next to her. "Thanks."
"Do you want me to get you something to drink with those? A soda, perhaps? Some juice?"
"That's all right, Samuel. You don't have to bother," she insisted.
"Delia, someone needs to take care of you, too." He disappeared out the door and returned a minute later with a can of apple juice. "The vending machine was out of orange juice," he informed her as he handed her the can.
She put the can down next to the peanuts. "I'll eat later. I don't really feel like eating now." Delia stroked her son's arm for a moment and then looked up at her old friend with worried eyes. "Samuel, you've treated injured Pokémon. You have a better understanding of what the doctors are talking about than I do. What do you think about….about Ash?" She couldn't bring herself to say 'chances'.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I'm not a physician, Delia. Human physiology is quite different from Pokémon physiology." He didn't want to tell her that he had spoken to Ash's doctor before coming into the room, and the optimism he had had for Ash's recovery had faded rapidly as he listened to the litany of the boy's injuries. He also wasn't going to tell her that he had seen a similar injury in an Ivysaur that had been crushed in a rockslide. That Pokémon had died.
"Yes, but you're more familiar with the medical terminology and all this," she said as she nodded in the direction of the equipment that was monitoring Ash's vital signs. "Please be honest with me. Tell me what you think about Ash's…" She still couldn't bring herself to say 'chances'. "I have to know the truth, Samuel. And I know you won't lie to me."
He was trapped. Even though he knew that the odds of Ash's survival weren't in the boy's favor, he wasn't about to make Delia even more upset than she already was.
"Delia," he spoke carefully, "I think Ash is in the best place he could be right now. This hospital has an excellent reputation for treating trauma cases." He leaned over and gently squeezed her hand. "Don't worry, Delia. Ash is young. He's strong. He's also quite stubborn, too."
Delia smiled slightly. "That's what your grandson said."
"Which reminds me," Samuel said as he stood up. "I have to get going. I'm going to drop by and wish Gary luck before I head back to the lab. I have a few things to attend to there, and Tracey wanted to stop by and see Ash." He bent down and gently kissed her cheek. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I want you to promise me that you'll eat something while I'm gone and try to get some rest."
Delia gave him a tiny smile and then turned her attention back to her injured son.
"I'll see you later, Delia."
---
"Ow! Dammit!" Gary winced as he cleaned the cut on his hand.
"Umbre?" the dark-type Pokémon asked worriedly as he watched his trainer yelp in pain.
"It's okay, Umbreon," Gary reassured his Pokémon. "It just stings for a moment. Good thing this isn't the hand I use to throw Poké balls with." He then heard a knock on the door of his cabin. "Wonder who that could be?" he asked Umbreon as left the bathroom and went to answer the door.
"Hello, Gary."
"Grandpa? What are you doing here?" Gary exclaimed in surprise. "I thought you were at the conference at Valencia Island."
"I left as soon as I heard the news about Ash. I just wanted to stop by and wish you luck today in your sixth-round match."
Gary smiled grimly. "Thanks, but there's no need for that now."
"What do you mean?" a puzzled Professor Oak asked.
"This morning when they drew the match-ups for the sixth round, I drew the winner of Ash's match. And since neither trainer was able to compete, I won by forfeit."
"Oh. Wait a minute. Then that means that you're going to compete in the final championship round tomorrow!"
"Yeah," Gary replied dully. "But not in the way I wanted to get there. Do you want to come in a for a moment Grandpa, seeing as that I've got the whole day to myself?"
"No, I've got to get back…Gary, what did you do to your hand?"
Gary quickly hid his left hand behind his back. "Nothing. It's just a little cut, that's all," he said evasively.
"It didn't look like a little cut to me, Gary. Let me have a look."
"No, that's okay, Grandpa. I'm fine. You don't have to treat me like one of the injured Pokémon at the lab."
"Gary, show me your hand."
"Grandpa, you don't have to worry about --"
"Gary, I'm your grandfather, and I am going to worry about you. Now show me your hand."
A defeated Gary slowly withdrew his hand from behind his back.
"Five, six, seven, eight stitches!" a shocked Professor Oak exclaimed as he examined his grandson's injury. "What on earth happened, Gary?"
"I…I…yesterday at the stadium, I just got finished with my fifth-round match and was telling Ash that I was looking forward to kicking his butt in the sixth round, assuming that he even won his fifth-round battle."
Professor Oak smiled. Gary and Ash's rivalry had been ongoing for years.
"Anyway, I was watching Ash and then there was this loud rumbling sound. And then…" Gary's voice began to quaver. "One of the walls at the end of the battlefield collapsed. They think it was damaged when another trainer's Onix accidentally smashed into it earlier. The news said that there was a small earthquake and that made the wall fall." Gary closed his eyes, reliving the horrible scene. "I ran over to where they were, but Lena - the girl from Fuchsia City - you could tell she was dead just by looking at her."
Professor Oak put a reassuring hand on his grandson's shoulder.
"I knew I couldn't help her, so I started looking for Ash. I heard his Pikachu crying – somehow it managed to jump out of the way before the wall collapsed – and then I saw it trying to dig Ash out. I saw him lying there under the rubble making these horrible choking sounds, like he was strangling or something, so I knew he was still alive." And to his dying day, Gary would never forget the sound of his childhood friend moaning in agony as he gasped desperately for breath under a ton of concrete. "I started digging, and then some of the other trainers on the field came over and started helping me move the rocks. One of them had a Machamp that they let loose, and it helped clear away the big pieces of concrete. I guess I must've cut my hand on a piece of metal or something. I didn't even know I did it until the paramedics came and got Ash free."
"Oh, Gary," Professor Oak said quietly as he hugged his grandson to him. "That must've been so horrible for you."
Gary nodded as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "Yeah, but I'm okay now. Have you seen Ash yet?"
"I went by the hospital this morning."
"How's he doing?"
"His condition is stable. He's still unconscious, though."
"Grandpa, you don't think Ash is gonna…die, do you?"
"I don't know, Gary."
"You know, all these years that Ash and I have been…I mean, we never really got along, but I didn't want anything like this to happen to him."
"I know you didn't, Gary." Professor Oak hugged his grandson again. "Actually, I'm very proud of you for what you did."
"Yeah, like it did any good if Ash dies," Gary said bitterly.
Professor Oak made his way to the door. "I've got to get back to Pallet Town and relieve Tracey at the lab. He wanted to come visit Ash today."
"Tell Tracey I said 'hi'," Gary said as he held open the door for his grandfather.
"I'll do that. And Gary, take care of that cut on your hand; you don't want it to get infected. I'll be back as soon as I can."
Gary watched his grandfather disappear down the path and then turned to the Umbreon that was nuzzling his leg comfortingly.
"C'mon, Umbreon. Let's go watch the other trainers compete in their sixth-round match. Might as well see who's going to be my opponent tomorrow."
---
"Mrs. Ketchum?"
"Hello, Tracey," a tired-looking Delia smiled in his direction as the boy opened the door to Ash's room.
"How's he doing?" Tracey asked as he approached Ash's bed.
"He's hanging in there," she replied as she touched her son's cheek. "Ash, sweetie, Tracey's here to see you."
Tracey gulped back the lump forming in his throat at the sight of his friend lying motionless among a sea of tubes and wires. Professor Oak had told him what to expect, but this was worse than he had anticipated.
"Hey, Ash," Tracey said awkwardly. "I was gonna bring you a get-well card, but I thought you might like this better." He took a drawing out of his sketchbook and handed it to Delia. "It's all of Ash's Pokémon. I figured he might like a reminder of why he needs to wake up."
Delia smiled at the sight of the drawing. "I think he'll like this very much, Tracey. Thank you." She held up the sketch in front of Ash's face. "Look, honey. Tracey did a drawing for you. All of your Pokémon are in it. Pikachu --" The little yellow Pokémon sleeping at the foot of the bed opened its eyes at the sound of its name. "— Noctowl, Bulbasaur, Cyndaquil…oh, look! Tracey even drew Muk."
Ash's eyes remained closed.
"Why don't I put that over here, Mrs. Ketchum?" Tracey offered as he took the sketch from her and put it on the table next to Ash's bed.
"Tracey!" Misty exclaimed as she pushed open the door to the room. Brock followed behind her. "I'm so glad to see you," she said as she gave her friend a hug.
"I thought you were going to see Gary's match," Delia asked the two teens.
"It was canceled," Brock replied. "Gary won by forfeit since no one won Ash's match from yesterday."
Delia leaned over and touched Ash's cheek again. "Ash, Misty and Brock are here."
Misty started choking up again at sight of the tender gesture. Brock put his arm around her shoulders.
"I…I'm sorry," she stammered as she sniffed back her tears. She cuddled Togepi to her and then slowly drew near Ash's bed. "Hi, Ash," Misty said softly as she touched his hand. "I brought you something." She reached into her backpack and pulled out Ash's baseball cap, dirty and somewhat crumpled. "They found it in the rubble. I thought you might want to have it back here with you." Misty placed it on the table next to Tracey's drawing.
Delia felt herself starting to choke up with emotion. I can't fall apart in front of the kids, she scolded herself as she tried desperately to swallow her tears. I have to be strong for them.
"Yeah, and don't worry about your Pokémon, Ash," Brock told him. "I'm going to take care of them until you get out of here. By the way, Totodile told me to tell you that he likes my Poké Chow better than the stuff you normally feed him."
"Thank you, everyone," Delia said. "Ash is fortunate to have good friends like you."
"Are you okay, Mrs. Ketchum?" Misty asked.
"Oh, I'm fine, dear," Delia lied. Even though she felt like hell, the only thing that she cared about right now was her child.
"Hey, everyone," another young voice piped up.
Everyone turned to see a brown-haired boy standing at the door. The boy had a Pikachu on his shoulder, and could've easily been mistaken for Ash's twin.
"Richie!" Misty exclaimed.
"I…I just wanted to see how Ash was," Richie said tentatively. "Is it okay for me to come in?"
"Of course it is, dear," Delia said as she motioned for him to enter. Richie's Pikachu, Sparky, hopped off of his trainer's shoulder and jumped on the bed next to Ash's Pikachu.
"Sorry about your match today," Brock said as the two Pokémon started chattering. "I know you were looking forward to defending your championship title."
"Thanks, Brock," Richie said as he approached Ash's bed. "But I was too distracted. I was too worried about Ash to really pay attention to the match this morning."
"Well, there's always next year," said Tracey.
Richie smiled slightly. "That's right. And Gary's going to have his hands full at the final round matchup tomorrow. Melissa's a tough opponent."
Delia lightly touched her son's hand. "Look who's here, Ash. Richie stopped by to see you."
"Hi, Ash," Richie said as he bit his trembling lip. "I was really looking forward to a championship rematch this year, but I guess it'll have to wait 'til next year." (Richie had narrowly defeated Ash last year in the final round to claim the Indigo League title.)
"Sorry, everyone," the nurse on duty said as she entered the room. "I need to examine Mr. Ketchum. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave now."
"We'll be back later," Brock said as he handed Delia a packet of Poké Chow. "Pikachu's probably hungry."
"Thank you, Brock," Delia said as she pocketed the Pokémon food. "I'll feed him later."
"Do you want anything, Mrs. K.?" asked Tracey.
"No thank you, Tracey."
"See you later," Misty said as she reluctantly left Ash's bedside.
Richie motioned to Sparky and the Pokémon hopped back on his shoulder. "We'll see you later, Ash. Mrs. Ketchum."
"Man, Ash looks rough," Tracey said as the three friends headed down the hall to the elevator. "Do you think he's…he's gonna…"
Richie, Brock, and Misty's grim faces told him that they had been thinking the same thing.
---
Anticipating that Delia might be asleep, Samuel quietly opened the door to Ash's room and peered in.
"Ash, sweetie, do you remember that song I used to sing to you at bedtime when you were little?" Delia said softly as she stroked her son's bandaged forehead. "The one about the Ponyta? Remember?" She began to sing: "Hush, little baby, and don't you worry. Mommy's gonna buy you all the pretty little Ponyta…" Her voice trailed off as she started to cry. "Don't worry, baby. Mommy won't let anything bad happen to you."
On the other side of the door, Samuel felt himself starting to choke up at the sight of the mother singing to her unconscious child. As the hinges on the door creaked, Delia looked up and quickly wiped away her tears; she had to stay strong for Ash and his friends.
"Delia? Are you all right?" he asked as he stuck his head in the door.
"Oh, Samuel," Delia said as she sniffed back her tears and tried to pretend that she was all right. "I'm fine."
"Are you?" he asked as he crossed the room to Ash's bedside and sat down in the chair opposite hers. "Have you slept at all since yesterday?"
Delia shrugged her shoulders. "I don't remember."
Samuel then caught sight of the peanuts and apple juice sitting untouched on the table next to the bed. "I thought you promised me that you were going to eat something and get some sleep while I was gone."
"Samuel, I told you that I don't feel like eating," Delia said stubbornly. "Don't worry about me."
He felt anger rising within him. Delia had every right to be worried about her son, but he wasn't about to let her make herself sick in the process.
"Delia, you're not going to help Ash if you make yourself sick. And have you even been out of your chair since you've been here?"
Delia shrugged her shoulders again.
"That's it!" he exploded. "I'm not going to sit by and watch you fall over from exhaustion and hunger!" He stood up and grabbed her arm. "Now you're going to get out of this chair, have something to eat, then have a long nap." Delia opened her mouth to protest, but Samuel swiftly interrupted her. "And don't worry about Ash, because I'm going to stay here with him while you get some sleep."
Eyes blazing with fury, Delia pulled her arm away from his grasp. "I told you that I'm not leaving my son!"
"What the hell is it with you redheads that makes all of you so damn stubborn?" Samuel said furiously as he glared at her. The two stared each other down for a few seconds, then his tone softened. "Delia, I don't want to be so harsh with you, but I hate seeing you like this. Will you at least get out of your chair for a moment and at least go to the bathroom? Have you even done that since you've been here?"
Delia shook her head. "If I did, I don't remember."
"Come on," he urged her. "At least stand up and stretch. You must be sore from sitting." He held out his hand to her. "Please?"
Delia took his hand and stiffly tried to stand up. The moment she straightened her shaking legs, they buckled. The last thing Delia remembered before her world spun away into blackness was a pair of strong hands grabbing her as she fell.
"Dammit, I was afraid this was going to happen," Samuel swore as he struggled to support the unconscious Delia's weight. He was able to tumble backwards on the empty bed next to Ash's and laid Delia's limp form atop it. After covering her with a blanket, he stabbed at the call button next to the bed. When no one responded fast enough for him, he jabbed the button again and again.
"Yes?" the irritated nurse on duty answered.
"I need some help in here. Mrs. Ketchum's fainted."