1.1.1 Here is chapter two of 'Everything Changes' I apologise once again
for the length of the prologue, I really should have split it into two
parts but I couldn't find a place to split it evenly. Anyway, hope you
enjoy this chapter ^_^
1.1.2
1.1.3 SIX MONTHS LATER
"That's another hard days work finished," James sighed loudly with relief as he poured a full bucket of murky soapy water down the nearest drain. He was covered in water from head to foot, his overall dripping onto the ground and his hair flat against his face. It was just as well the sun was out, or he would have been freezing cold as well.
"You still haven't told us why you're standing here day after day cleaning cars instead of helping us steal Pokemon." Jessie leaned against the sparkling bonnet of a brand new scarlet red sports car, sliding her dark sunglasses down her nose in order to see her friend clearly. The car was her newest purchase, one she had brought immediately after passing her driving test – which had incidentally taken her six tries because she kept flirting with the instructors.
"I only need to work for one more day then I'll have enough money for what I want to buy," he grinned, shaking his wet indigo hair in her direction, much to her disgust.
"Which is?" Jessie prompted.
"It's best not to ask," he blushed, turning away from her gaze.
"Well I'm sorry for wondering," she replied indignantly. "I'm just interested in why you're leaving all the hard work to me!"
"You haven't tasted hard work until you do this job! I'm exhausted!"
"You're exhausted?!" Jessie yelled. "I spent three hours trailing a trainer this morning and ended up getting into a fight with him!"
"Isn't that the point?" James grinned.
"I think you misunderstood me," she remarked. "I got into a fight with him."
"Ah, right, that explains why your hair is so out of place, I guess you didn't have time to brush it,"
"I've just got back from the hairdressers!" Jessie frowned, running her fingers through her hair.
"Then you should get a refund," he smiled cheekily, but soon wished he hadn't when Jessie's fist made contact with the side of his head. The force was so great that he toppled backwards and landed promptly in the bucket he had recently poured water out of.
"Hey!" he exclaimed. "That was unfair, I didn't have time to dodge out of the way!"
"You weren't supposed to," Jessie muttered, walking round her car to the driver's side and jumping in without bothering to open the door. Slouched on the passenger seat was a drowsy looking Meowth, wearing dark sunglasses almost identical to Jessie's, and with a pair of headphones over his ears, from which heavy beats could be heard.
"Since when have you been so… cool?" James asked, struggling to pick himself out of the bucket and glaring at the Pokemon.
"Since Jessie here told me that unless I became 'cool' I wouldn't be allowed to ride in her car," he grinned, mimicking Jessie's earlier move and slipping his glasses down his nose.
"So…" James said. "Am I cool enough to ride in your car?"
"In that state?!" she shrieked. "You'd completely ruin the seat cushions!"
"I guess I'm walking then," he replied solemnly.
"Too right you are, now get out of my way. We'll see you back at the guesthouse." James literally had to leap out of the way to avoid being run over by the car, which sped out of the car park with such speed that its wheels screeched on the warm tarmac. In a flash, it was gone, and James sighed and looked at the space where the car had been a few moments ago in annoyance. It was beginning to get colder, and he had to walk three miles before he could have a warm shower. Live sucked, he decided, as he heaved his rucksack onto his shoulders and began to leave the car park, his wet boots squelching every step he took, and leaving watery footsteps behind which marked his every move.
oo00O00oo
Ash's alarm clock showed ten O Clock in the morning as the ringing from it caused him to open his eyes wide and sit bolt upright. He wasn't used to being woken up, it just seemed easier to remain asleep most of the time. The clock that stared him in the face was small, rectangle and black, unlike the one he used to have which was shaped like a Pokeball. That was the case with everything in his room; all his Pokemon merchandise had been stacked away in cupboards where they couldn't be seen. As his eyes came into focus he noticed a huge sky blue envelope on his bedside cabinet. He leaned over and took it in his hand, and ripped the top open, pulling out a card.
"Happy Birthday," he murmured unenthusiastically, opening the card up to reveal what was inside. "Lots of love, Mum." As he read what was written in the card, tears came to his eyes. He hated this day. Glancing over at a shelf on the opposite wall, he focussed on a photograph in a bright orange frame. It was a picture taken on his birthday three years ago, just before he'd left to begin his Pokemon Journey. He was the main focus in the picture, but sitting beside him on the ground, looking slightly reluctant to be there, was his companion Pikachu. Three years ago he had met his Pokemon for the first time, and sixth months ago he had lost that friend in an explosion. He felt the tears in his eyes begin to roll slowly down his cheeks and didn't try to stop them. Things would never be the same again, and it was all thanks to Team Rocket.
He eventually managed to find the effort to pull himself out of bed, stretching as he stood up and finally wiped his tear-streaked cheeks in order to hide the fact that he had been crying to his mother. As he opened the door he took one last look at the picture of himself, the smiling excited look on his face, as he knew he was about to embark on the adventure of his life. That look was a far cry from the one that he saw as he looked in the mirror hung on the inside of his door. His smile was gone, his eyes weary, his complexion pale. It had been six months and he still hadn't forgotten the pain the explosion had caused, both physically and mentally, not just for him, but for his two best friends as well, the ones he had hardly seen since.
"Ash!" his mum shouted from downstairs. "Is that you?"
"Yeah," he said bluntly, exiting his room and closing the door behind him.
"Come down stairs will you? There's someone here to see you."
Ash was surprised, he hadn't had any visitors in three months, and he wondered who it was. He assumed it would be one of his relatives, come to wish him a happy birthday. He didn't, however, agree that it was happy, rather the opposite. This, he decided, was the worst day of the year. As he wandered down the stairs as slowly as possible, he heard voices coming from the direction of the dining room of the house. One of them was his mother, bright and cheery as usual, and the other was one he thought he recognised but couldn't be sure who it was. Stopping half way down the stairs he pondered on where he had heard the voice before. It took him only three seconds to realise who the voice was coming from, and he cursed himself for not realising sooner.
"Brock!" he yelled, racing down the remaining stairs and into the dining room. As he entered, his mother, who was standing nearby, promptly left, sensing that the pair might want to be alone.
"Hi Ash," he replied, smiling. Brock was sitting at the huge oak table that dominated the room, squeezed in a chair against the wall, just like everyone did when they sat there. On the table in front of him was a huge pile of brightly wrapped presents, and an equally huge pile of envelopes. Set aside slightly from the rest, and near to Brock than the others, was a largish box wrapped in bright yellow paper, with a yellow bow sitting proudly on the top.
"So… what are you doing here?" Ash stammered, struggling to think of anything to say to the friend he hadn't seen in so long.
"I came to give you this." He pushed the large present across the table to where Ash had sat down. "Your mum said it was OK for you to open this one first.
"I don't know what to say… thanks Brock," he smiled genuinely for the first time that day, and began to rip the paper off the box. Once all the wrapping paper had been removed, all that remained was an odd looking wooden box. Ash hesitated.
"Go on," Brock urged. "Open it."
Ash did as he was told right away and heaved the heavy lid from the box. As soon as the lid was removed the content was revealed. From the box a surge of lightning engulfed the room. When it finally subsided a couple of seconds later a dazed looking Ash peered inside the box. Sitting in the centre, an annoyed look on its face was a small Pichu.
"You brought this… for me?"
"I don't see anyone else here," Brock grinned. "I found it on the road a month ago, it was badly injured but I managed to nurse it back to health. I decided it was time for you to you get another Pokemon and I thought Pichu was the perfect choice after…" he trailed off, realising he ought not continue.
"It's OK you know," Ash replied. "You can say it. The one thing that really annoys me is people pretending he never existed."
"Oh… I'm… I'm sorry," Brock stuttered.
"Don't worry about it, everyone does it until I tell them otherwise."
"Pi!" Pichu leapt out of the box and landed on the table in front of Ash. It appeared to be annoyed at being left out of the conversation, but luckily had managed to refrain from shocking them with another electric attack.
"Hi Pichu," Ash smiled genuinely at the tiny creature. "I guess you're my new Pokemon."
"Pichu!" it replied enthusiastically. Ash felt a happy feeling within his soul. A feeling that he hadn't felt since the explosion. This gift from his best friend, to him, represented the beginning of a new life, and he decided at that moment that from now on things were going to change. For months he had avoided everything to do with Pokemon, even sending his other old friends back to Professor Oak to look after, and he realised now that he had been selfish to do so.
"What are you thinking?" Brock asked, staring at him intently.
"I'm thinking that perhaps it's time to get my old friends back from Professor Oak."
"You mean… you're going to continue your Pokemon journey?" Brock became excited at the prospect of once again travelling with Ash.
"Eventually, yeah," he replied, stroking his new Pichu softly on the head. "I'll have to get to know my Pokemon again, and train them up slightly first."
"That shouldn't take you too long. After all, you're a natural."
"Thanks," Ash grinned. "It'll be weird though, carrying on without Misty."
"How is she?" Brock asked solemnly. "Have you seen her recently?"
"Not for months. I've travelled over to Cerulean a few times but her sisters wouldn't let me in. I got the feeling Misty had told them not to."
"I wish she would," Brock stared at the table. "If she's not letting us in then she's most likely not letting anyone in. It can't be good for her sitting in her room day after day staring out of the window." Brock had been to visit her once while she was still in hospital. He wished Ash could have been there with him but he was still recovering himself, and grieving over Pikachu, so he had ended up going alone. Misty had been sat upright in an uncomfortable looking bed in a ward with at least ten other people. Her cubicle had been the only one with its curtains closed permanently. She hadn't even looked up when he had entered, just stared straight ahead at the brightly coloured curtain behind him. He had spoken to her but she hadn't spoken back, he had felt tears in his eyes and felt them roll down his cheeks but she hadn't reacted. She had been like a ghost; no matter how hard he had tried to reach out to her he had slipped right through her, and eventually he had given up and wandered out of the cubicle. He doubted if she had even noticed.
"Maybe we should take another trip over there?" Ash suggested. "Give it one last try."
"That sounds like a good idea," Brock agreed. "I promised Nurse Joy I'd go and visit her there anyway, so I could do both in one trip."
"Then it's agreed. Tomorrow we'll set out to Cerulean City to see Misty, and if she won't see us then we'll give up and get on with our lives. I know she's our best friend, but if she doesn't want to see us, and if it upsets her to watch us walking down the path to her house, then we have to do what is best for her and leave her alone, however much she might need us…"
1.1.2
1.1.3 SIX MONTHS LATER
"That's another hard days work finished," James sighed loudly with relief as he poured a full bucket of murky soapy water down the nearest drain. He was covered in water from head to foot, his overall dripping onto the ground and his hair flat against his face. It was just as well the sun was out, or he would have been freezing cold as well.
"You still haven't told us why you're standing here day after day cleaning cars instead of helping us steal Pokemon." Jessie leaned against the sparkling bonnet of a brand new scarlet red sports car, sliding her dark sunglasses down her nose in order to see her friend clearly. The car was her newest purchase, one she had brought immediately after passing her driving test – which had incidentally taken her six tries because she kept flirting with the instructors.
"I only need to work for one more day then I'll have enough money for what I want to buy," he grinned, shaking his wet indigo hair in her direction, much to her disgust.
"Which is?" Jessie prompted.
"It's best not to ask," he blushed, turning away from her gaze.
"Well I'm sorry for wondering," she replied indignantly. "I'm just interested in why you're leaving all the hard work to me!"
"You haven't tasted hard work until you do this job! I'm exhausted!"
"You're exhausted?!" Jessie yelled. "I spent three hours trailing a trainer this morning and ended up getting into a fight with him!"
"Isn't that the point?" James grinned.
"I think you misunderstood me," she remarked. "I got into a fight with him."
"Ah, right, that explains why your hair is so out of place, I guess you didn't have time to brush it,"
"I've just got back from the hairdressers!" Jessie frowned, running her fingers through her hair.
"Then you should get a refund," he smiled cheekily, but soon wished he hadn't when Jessie's fist made contact with the side of his head. The force was so great that he toppled backwards and landed promptly in the bucket he had recently poured water out of.
"Hey!" he exclaimed. "That was unfair, I didn't have time to dodge out of the way!"
"You weren't supposed to," Jessie muttered, walking round her car to the driver's side and jumping in without bothering to open the door. Slouched on the passenger seat was a drowsy looking Meowth, wearing dark sunglasses almost identical to Jessie's, and with a pair of headphones over his ears, from which heavy beats could be heard.
"Since when have you been so… cool?" James asked, struggling to pick himself out of the bucket and glaring at the Pokemon.
"Since Jessie here told me that unless I became 'cool' I wouldn't be allowed to ride in her car," he grinned, mimicking Jessie's earlier move and slipping his glasses down his nose.
"So…" James said. "Am I cool enough to ride in your car?"
"In that state?!" she shrieked. "You'd completely ruin the seat cushions!"
"I guess I'm walking then," he replied solemnly.
"Too right you are, now get out of my way. We'll see you back at the guesthouse." James literally had to leap out of the way to avoid being run over by the car, which sped out of the car park with such speed that its wheels screeched on the warm tarmac. In a flash, it was gone, and James sighed and looked at the space where the car had been a few moments ago in annoyance. It was beginning to get colder, and he had to walk three miles before he could have a warm shower. Live sucked, he decided, as he heaved his rucksack onto his shoulders and began to leave the car park, his wet boots squelching every step he took, and leaving watery footsteps behind which marked his every move.
oo00O00oo
Ash's alarm clock showed ten O Clock in the morning as the ringing from it caused him to open his eyes wide and sit bolt upright. He wasn't used to being woken up, it just seemed easier to remain asleep most of the time. The clock that stared him in the face was small, rectangle and black, unlike the one he used to have which was shaped like a Pokeball. That was the case with everything in his room; all his Pokemon merchandise had been stacked away in cupboards where they couldn't be seen. As his eyes came into focus he noticed a huge sky blue envelope on his bedside cabinet. He leaned over and took it in his hand, and ripped the top open, pulling out a card.
"Happy Birthday," he murmured unenthusiastically, opening the card up to reveal what was inside. "Lots of love, Mum." As he read what was written in the card, tears came to his eyes. He hated this day. Glancing over at a shelf on the opposite wall, he focussed on a photograph in a bright orange frame. It was a picture taken on his birthday three years ago, just before he'd left to begin his Pokemon Journey. He was the main focus in the picture, but sitting beside him on the ground, looking slightly reluctant to be there, was his companion Pikachu. Three years ago he had met his Pokemon for the first time, and sixth months ago he had lost that friend in an explosion. He felt the tears in his eyes begin to roll slowly down his cheeks and didn't try to stop them. Things would never be the same again, and it was all thanks to Team Rocket.
He eventually managed to find the effort to pull himself out of bed, stretching as he stood up and finally wiped his tear-streaked cheeks in order to hide the fact that he had been crying to his mother. As he opened the door he took one last look at the picture of himself, the smiling excited look on his face, as he knew he was about to embark on the adventure of his life. That look was a far cry from the one that he saw as he looked in the mirror hung on the inside of his door. His smile was gone, his eyes weary, his complexion pale. It had been six months and he still hadn't forgotten the pain the explosion had caused, both physically and mentally, not just for him, but for his two best friends as well, the ones he had hardly seen since.
"Ash!" his mum shouted from downstairs. "Is that you?"
"Yeah," he said bluntly, exiting his room and closing the door behind him.
"Come down stairs will you? There's someone here to see you."
Ash was surprised, he hadn't had any visitors in three months, and he wondered who it was. He assumed it would be one of his relatives, come to wish him a happy birthday. He didn't, however, agree that it was happy, rather the opposite. This, he decided, was the worst day of the year. As he wandered down the stairs as slowly as possible, he heard voices coming from the direction of the dining room of the house. One of them was his mother, bright and cheery as usual, and the other was one he thought he recognised but couldn't be sure who it was. Stopping half way down the stairs he pondered on where he had heard the voice before. It took him only three seconds to realise who the voice was coming from, and he cursed himself for not realising sooner.
"Brock!" he yelled, racing down the remaining stairs and into the dining room. As he entered, his mother, who was standing nearby, promptly left, sensing that the pair might want to be alone.
"Hi Ash," he replied, smiling. Brock was sitting at the huge oak table that dominated the room, squeezed in a chair against the wall, just like everyone did when they sat there. On the table in front of him was a huge pile of brightly wrapped presents, and an equally huge pile of envelopes. Set aside slightly from the rest, and near to Brock than the others, was a largish box wrapped in bright yellow paper, with a yellow bow sitting proudly on the top.
"So… what are you doing here?" Ash stammered, struggling to think of anything to say to the friend he hadn't seen in so long.
"I came to give you this." He pushed the large present across the table to where Ash had sat down. "Your mum said it was OK for you to open this one first.
"I don't know what to say… thanks Brock," he smiled genuinely for the first time that day, and began to rip the paper off the box. Once all the wrapping paper had been removed, all that remained was an odd looking wooden box. Ash hesitated.
"Go on," Brock urged. "Open it."
Ash did as he was told right away and heaved the heavy lid from the box. As soon as the lid was removed the content was revealed. From the box a surge of lightning engulfed the room. When it finally subsided a couple of seconds later a dazed looking Ash peered inside the box. Sitting in the centre, an annoyed look on its face was a small Pichu.
"You brought this… for me?"
"I don't see anyone else here," Brock grinned. "I found it on the road a month ago, it was badly injured but I managed to nurse it back to health. I decided it was time for you to you get another Pokemon and I thought Pichu was the perfect choice after…" he trailed off, realising he ought not continue.
"It's OK you know," Ash replied. "You can say it. The one thing that really annoys me is people pretending he never existed."
"Oh… I'm… I'm sorry," Brock stuttered.
"Don't worry about it, everyone does it until I tell them otherwise."
"Pi!" Pichu leapt out of the box and landed on the table in front of Ash. It appeared to be annoyed at being left out of the conversation, but luckily had managed to refrain from shocking them with another electric attack.
"Hi Pichu," Ash smiled genuinely at the tiny creature. "I guess you're my new Pokemon."
"Pichu!" it replied enthusiastically. Ash felt a happy feeling within his soul. A feeling that he hadn't felt since the explosion. This gift from his best friend, to him, represented the beginning of a new life, and he decided at that moment that from now on things were going to change. For months he had avoided everything to do with Pokemon, even sending his other old friends back to Professor Oak to look after, and he realised now that he had been selfish to do so.
"What are you thinking?" Brock asked, staring at him intently.
"I'm thinking that perhaps it's time to get my old friends back from Professor Oak."
"You mean… you're going to continue your Pokemon journey?" Brock became excited at the prospect of once again travelling with Ash.
"Eventually, yeah," he replied, stroking his new Pichu softly on the head. "I'll have to get to know my Pokemon again, and train them up slightly first."
"That shouldn't take you too long. After all, you're a natural."
"Thanks," Ash grinned. "It'll be weird though, carrying on without Misty."
"How is she?" Brock asked solemnly. "Have you seen her recently?"
"Not for months. I've travelled over to Cerulean a few times but her sisters wouldn't let me in. I got the feeling Misty had told them not to."
"I wish she would," Brock stared at the table. "If she's not letting us in then she's most likely not letting anyone in. It can't be good for her sitting in her room day after day staring out of the window." Brock had been to visit her once while she was still in hospital. He wished Ash could have been there with him but he was still recovering himself, and grieving over Pikachu, so he had ended up going alone. Misty had been sat upright in an uncomfortable looking bed in a ward with at least ten other people. Her cubicle had been the only one with its curtains closed permanently. She hadn't even looked up when he had entered, just stared straight ahead at the brightly coloured curtain behind him. He had spoken to her but she hadn't spoken back, he had felt tears in his eyes and felt them roll down his cheeks but she hadn't reacted. She had been like a ghost; no matter how hard he had tried to reach out to her he had slipped right through her, and eventually he had given up and wandered out of the cubicle. He doubted if she had even noticed.
"Maybe we should take another trip over there?" Ash suggested. "Give it one last try."
"That sounds like a good idea," Brock agreed. "I promised Nurse Joy I'd go and visit her there anyway, so I could do both in one trip."
"Then it's agreed. Tomorrow we'll set out to Cerulean City to see Misty, and if she won't see us then we'll give up and get on with our lives. I know she's our best friend, but if she doesn't want to see us, and if it upsets her to watch us walking down the path to her house, then we have to do what is best for her and leave her alone, however much she might need us…"
