Blue Heaven
By Spruceton Spook
Part 20
Taking Chances
The soft pitter-patter of rain against the windows was the only sound that accompanied Ash as he shuffled his way down the dark staircase. He didn't know what time it was, but he knew it was late. It seemed like years had passed since he let his head fall to the pillow, but not one bit of sleep had come upon him. Darkness surrounded him, and he searched groggily for a light switch in vain. This wasn't the first time he had spent the night at Professor Oak's, but it was the first time in a very long time, longer than he could remember.
Then again, there wasn't much functioning going on in his tired brain at the moment. But a lot of pounding was. It made him think of his mother as he guided his way painstakingly through the dark, praying he was heading in the right direction and would make it there safely and quietly. Battling the sudden headache didn't help his insomnia at all, but Ash was sure that the alcohol only contributed a little to it. The endless thoughts were what kept him up the most, preoccupying him incessantly.
Remarkably, Ash made it to the kitchen, and batted his hand around the doorframe, groping for the switch. When he found it, the room lit up torturously, burning his moist eyes. Squinting, he dragged himself over to the refrigerator, and scowled upon discovering that the only milk therein was skim.
While he preferred whole milk and felt that was best to help him sleep, he poured himself a glass. He moved about cautiously, not wanting to wake the entire house at such an ungodly hour. Climbing onto one of the stools at the counter, he looked longingly out the window at the damp world and drank his milk.
It was too late for him to be up. He was so tired and so very envious that everyone else was peacefully asleep. Meanwhile, he lay in bed, tossing and turning and doing all he could to calm his raging heart and cushion his throbbing head. Sleep was impossible, though. Not with the memories of the day flashing across his closed eyes over and over.
Ash sighed, running his finger over the film of cold condensation on his glass. He didn't understand why he was having this problem. Despite all the fun that had followed, it was the adverse moments of the party that raided him. The image of Gary kept resurfacing; the scenes of the pokémon wreaking havoc and his father's anger replayed like a horror movie. Ash had been desperate to focus on something else: the warm, secure feeling of bed, the good food and music, the vision of his parents reciting their vows...what Misty had told him. Even that didn't help. When he pictured her smile, it was quickly replaced with Gary's sneer.
A gust of wind blew, beating the rain harder against the window.
Wow, we were lucky, Ash thought. Now how come I can't be lucky and fall asleep?
He was going to be dead tomorrow when he saw his parents off. He could nap afterward, he supposed, but just the mere thought of being so tired while having to get dressed and go back home made his head pulsate violently. But it wasn't just that he was dreading—it was the future. The near future, the far future, it made no difference. The clock suddenly chimed from the den; it was three. Three o'clock in the morning was certainly not the finest hour to ponder what the future held.
"Ash?"
Ash's body lurched so abruptly that he almost fell off the stool. He whirled around and found Misty staring at him from the doorway.
"Misty..." he choked, shutting his eyes.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, advancing towards him carefully. "I didn't mean to scare you. I was worried about you. I heard you get up, and I was...I didn't know if you were sick or something..."
"No, no, I—I'm okay," Ash managed to smile as he caught his breath. "I'm all right."
Misty slid onto the stool beside him. "You don't look all right," she replied, taking in his bloodshot eyes and pale face.
Ash frowned. "Yeah, I probably don't. I haven't slept at all."
"Oh Ash, is it from the champagne?"
"Maybe. I—I dunno, I've just been thinking a lot. You know, since I went to bed. My mind's...full."
Grinning slyly, Misty cocked her head. "Oh, really? Whatcha thinkin' about?"
Ash looked down. "Gary."
Misty snickered. "Gary? And here I thought you were thinking about me!"
Ash didn't say anything. He breathed soundly, casting another glance out the window.
Misty groaned, but smiled wearily. "Ash. Why are you thinking about Gary?"
He shrugged slightly. "I don't know. I can't get it off my mind—what happened today. The battle." He took a deep breath. "I'm...afraid."
"Afraid? Afraid of what?" Misty said, concerned curiosity in her tone.
"That it'll happen again," Ash answered after a short pause, biting his lip.
Misty slouched, but asked with troubled interest, "Why do you think it's going to happen again?"
"Because it will," Ash mumbled softly. He absentmindedly pushed his glass back and forth, making trails of water across the counter. "I know it will, and...and I'm just afraid."
Misty straightened in her chair and breathed deeply. "Ash, what happened today doesn't have to happen again," she said. "It won't happen. Didn't you learn anything from today? You can control whether something like that happens again or not. You don't have to worry about it."
"Yeah, but I do, Misty," Ash said, still not looking at her, still in a consumed mutter. "I mean, think about what you said today. How there's no way I can shut him out of my life. You're right, I am going to meet up with him again, I am going to see him again. I know I will. I can't escape it, and that just...it just worries me because I don't know if I can control myself. I thought I could today, and look what happened. Look at the mess I caused, and..." He stopped, rubbing his aching temples. "I'm just afraid it's going to happen again, is all."
Though she had taken in each word he said, she sighed and nudged his shoulder. He looked up to find her smiling soothingly.
"Ash," she whispered, "it's late. Go to bed. You can worry about this some other time."
"But it's been bothering me all night, Misty," he countered. "I can't sleep."
"But we had so much fun today! Why is this bothering you now?"
"I dunno," Ash shrugged, sloshing around the puddle of milk in the bottom of the glass. "I guess...I guess all the fun we had made me forget about it for a while. But...going to bed and lying there in the dark made me think about it all over again."
When he didn't get a response for that, he looked up again. This time he was receiving a smile and narrowed eyes.
"Get over it, Ash. You're just tired. Go to bed, rest, and tomorrow morning you'll feel fine again. I promise you."
Ash stared into her eyes. Why didn't she understand? This wasn't going to leave him anytime soon, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. After all, he hadn't expected what happened that day to happen, so what made future encounters with Gary any less possible? No...he had to stop it—permanently. He had to find a way to make his worries go away...
"I think I'm trying to convince myself that I need to..." He hesitated, shutting his eyes tightly.
Misty tilted her head attentively. "Convince yourself of what?"
Even saying it was difficult. But he couldn't escape the feeling that it was a necessary risk he was crazy enough—but desperate enough—to undertake.
"Convince myself that I have apologize to Gary. And...and stop all of this."
Misty's jaw practically dropped to the counter top. "Ash, are you insane?" she hissed. "You want to apologize to him?" She gave him a skeptical face. "Are you still drunk?"
"No," Ash shook his head. He knew it was ludicrous, but he couldn't seem to abandon the idea. "Look, Misty, I know it sounds stupid—"
"Yeah!" Misty grimaced.
"But I have to do it," he finished, almost direly. "Because if I don't, this whole stupid fight and rivalry is going to go on and on, and it's just going to create more trouble for me, and I know—I just know—it's not going to stop here. I know."
Misty was currently at a loss for words. She just stared at him while he swallowed, containing himself. "You know how much I can't stand Gary, but the last two times we fought...they've been my fault." She could tell that was a hard thing to admit by the way he winced. "It's been my fault...and...I just want to tell him that I want to end it...so that we don't fight anymore...and I don't get into trouble anymore because of it."
"Is this just about your dad?"
"No," Ash was quick to disagree. "I mean—that's some it, yeah, but...it's because I can't take it anymore, either. I don't like fighting, Misty, not even with Gary. I don't care if I ever see him again, but...in case I do, which I probably will...I don't want a repeat of what happened today. And if I talk to him about that, without picking a fight, maybe he'd listen...and agree...and I can really end this."
Misty blinked long and hard. "Ash, I...I really don't know..."
"If I should do this?" Ash filled in, his eyes raising. He looked away. "I don't know if I should, either..."
"So then why are you trying to make yourself think you need to?"
"Because I don't want to fight with him anymore, Misty," he replied. His eyes were sagging tiredly, and Misty could already see that bags were forming beneath them. Ash needed sleep. "I don't want to be friends with him anymore, but I don't want to fight, either."
A long lecture on how this wasn't one of his brightest ideas raring to blurt out, Misty quickly checked it and shut her mouth. Ash looked like he was in no state to endure one now. In fact, she wondered if he even cared if she had something to say, as his head drooped into his hands. The poor boy was exhausted, which meant he probably knew nothing of what he was proposing for himself.
"Are you okay?" she decided to ask instead. Besides, she was genuinely worried.
Ash wiped the wetness from the far corners of his eyes. "I have a really bad headache."
Smiling, Misty reached over and began to massage both sides of his head. Ash sat up and closed his eyes, relaxing from the relieving touch, his stomach lifting pleasantly as her nails brushed against his scalp. Then she leaned over and kissed his forehead.
"Go to bed, Ash," she whispered.
He looked up sleepily at her for a second, then nodded. Taking hold of his hand, she guided him off the stool and down the dark hallway, then upstairs. Ash closed his eyes practically the whole time she was leading him. His mind didn't want to sleep, but his eyes sure did.
Misty stopped him in front of his room. "I'll see you in the morning," she said sweetly, giving his forehead another kiss. "Try to get some sleep. We'll do something fun tomorrow to get your mind off...everything. Okay?"
Ash didn't answer, but Misty wasn't expecting him to. Giving him a final coquettish smile over her shoulder, she made her way towards her room, her hand delicately slipping out of his. Ash watched her disappear into the darkness, then staggered into his room. His body fell to the bed, his legs too tired to support him any longer, and his head sank into the pillow, the last thing he remembered before being awakened way too soon the next morning.
"The number for the hotel is right on the refrigerator, okay? And please don't call unless you really need to. It'll just scare me. I don't want to hear that you don't know where the scissors are, or that you're bored, or that Pikachu learned a new attack. All right? Don't call unless it's an emergency."
"But what if I really miss you?" Ash said, jutting out his lip to give his mother a sad look.
"Aren't you the son who leaves me for months to go on a pokémon journey?" Delia contested, putting her hands on her hips. "Or am I thinking of the other one?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. I'm too tired to figure out who I am right now," he replied haggardly. Considering his eyelids felt like they weighed a ton each, the five hours of sleep he had gotten felt more like five minutes.
"Well, that's what you get for drinking," Delia justified in the definitive motherly tone.
No, that's what I get for drinking and being involved in a rivalry, Ash corrected in his mind, but smiled in repentant agreement outwardly. At least his headache was gone...though Ash suddenly doubted that it was gone for good.
"And I didn't hide the liquor, and your dad's beer is in the fridge, so I'm relying on you not to touch it on your own honor. Okay?" Delia cautioned.
"That's right," Jay added, giving him an admonishing smirk. "I counted five beers in there, and I don't want to come home to see four." He poked a finger in his son's face, pressing his nose.
Ash blinked gently. "I'm not gonna drink," he promised, still smiling. "You know I won't."
"I'll make sure of that," Brock guaranteed, receiving a grateful nod from Delia.
"Thank you, Brock." She pointed at him while turning sternly to Ash. "You listen to him now. As soon as we leave, Ash, he's in charge. No ifs, ands, or buts about it, I mean it."
Ash scoffed, folding his arms. "I don't know if I agree with that," he mumbled.
"Oh, come on, Ash!" Misty grinned. "How's that any different from when we're out traveling?"
"Yeah," Brock resolved. "If you do something dumb then, I still tell your mom about it."
That earned him a vicious glare from the younger boy. "I'm not going to do anything dumb," he swore irritably.
"Well, we'll see about that," Misty giggled. Togepi chirped in her arms amusingly as the insulted frown lines in Ash's face deepened.
"Awww, don't get upset, honey," his mom cooed, shaking the brim of his hat. "I know you won't do anything dumb."
"Of course I won't," Ash straightened proudly.
"Just as long as you don't call and scare the living daylights out of me. I'll call you a few times, all right? We're only going to be gone for four days, so you can handle it. And please, I want to come home to find the house in one piece, okay, sweetie? Which means clean up after yourself or don't make the mess in the first place."
She then proceeded to rattle off the regulations, counting them on her fingers. "Lock the doors the night, don't answer the door at night. You can leave the house, but please don't go far; no day-journeys, don't go into the woods. You can go to Professor Oak's house, and you can go into town if you want, but not late in the day—I want you home before dark, okay? Um...don't forget to turn the oven off. You don't have to do laundry unless you really want to, but I want to find the clothes in the hamper, not on your floor. And...I don't know, anything else, Jay?"
Jay shrugged. "Don't kill each other," he laughed.
"Yes, I don't want to get a call from the emergency room, either," Delia said.
"It's all right, Ma, we'll be fine," Ash assured, trying his best not to roll his eyes at the long list of rules. No matter how relaxed his mother was acting over leaving the house to them for the next four days, he knew her innards were twisting with worry.
"I know you will," she replied, gathering him in her arms. "I just worry, dear. This is really the first time I've left you all alone in the house for so many days."
"It's okay, we won't burn it down," Ash giggled, wrapping his arms around her in a firm hug. He closed his eyes as he rested his head against her chest, and for the moment, felt like he could fall asleep right there. "I'm gonna miss you."
"Oh, I'm going to miss you, too, baby," she bubbled wistfully, bending down to kiss the top of his head. "Promise me you'll be good?"
Ash narrowed his eyes deviously. "Sure...but promises were made to be broken."
Delia matched his sly expression. "Sure, Ash. I'm gonna forget you said that, okay?" Her son laughed, scratching the back of his head.
"You laugh, kiddo," Jay remarked. "But we'll hear all we need to know from this guy over here." He pointed at Brock. "So you'd better watch out."
Ash turned to face his father, folding his arms again cockily. "Not if I bribe him, you won't," he joked.
"Uh-huh," Jay nodded, smacking Ash's hat down over his face. "Keep talking, squirt. We'll see where your big mouth gets you this week. If I were you, I'd be scared of Brock. You're not the only one doing some bribing around here."
"That's right, Ash," Brock sneered playfully. "Fear me." Ash promptly stuck his tongue out at him.
"All right," Delia exhaled happily. "I think we covered everything. You kids have any questions before we leave?"
Brock and Misty both shook their heads, which seemed to conclude the redundant and almost aggravating inspection of responsibility, but suddenly Ash felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Jay's.
"Uh, actually, I just wanna talk to Ash for a moment before we leave, okay?" he said with a smile. "Come outside with me?" he beckoned Ash, patting his shoulder and guiding him forward.
"Um, okay," Ash replied, feeling a bit confused and uneasy as he followed his father out the front door. Why is he bringing me outside? he wondered. What could Jay possibly say that he didn't want the rest of the group to hear?
Though it was fairly hazy, Ash had to squint his eyes from the sun's glare as he stared up quizzically at Jay's face. His dad put his hands on his hips as he looked down the road, then down at Ash, who he smiled at. The smile was friendly, but a touch of nervousness was mixed in, also.
"Um, Ash, look..." He lingered, trying to figure out what to say, which intrigued Ash all the more. Finally, Jay cleared his throat. "Your mother—well, she wasn't going to mention this in there, but I know she has it on her mind... Um...she's kinda nervous. You know...about—about leaving you and Misty alone like this for the next few days..."
Ash quickly caught on and interjected. "Dad, we'll be fine." He was glad that it was only this, something he could ensure. "You know me and Misty don't do that kind of stuff."
"I know, I know," Jay nodded rapidly, grinning both out of relief and a bit of embarrassment. "I know you don't do anything like that, I trust you. It's just your mom's worried, and I, you know, wanted to make sure we have all this covered..."
By now, Ash was smiling confidently. "It's all covered. You don't have to worry about us. Besides, Brock's here. He wouldn't let us do anything even if we tried."
Jay laughed. "I figured that. But Ash, just so we're on the same page here—that means little things, too, things you might not think are wrong. I don't want you to think that you can roll Misty's bed back into your room for the nights we're gone, or something like that. You know Mom'll find out about it someway or another, and it's not going to be pretty if she does." He winced for dramatic effect, which his boy mimicked.
"I wasn't planning on it," Ash told him truthfully. "And I don't think Misty's planning on it, either. She really likes sleeping in the sitting room."
Jay huffed in surprise. "She does? Man, I don't know how anybody can sleep in that room with your mother's demented ancestors!" Ash broke out into laughter. "All I know is, I'm sure as hell glad they're not my grandparents!"
"Mi—misty likes them, too," Ash said between giggles. "She says—she says you get used to them after a while."
"Look, I've been living with those things for thirteen years now," Jay explained, "and I'm still not used to them. I say they go back in the attic! But don't tell Mom that."
Ash, heaving from all the laughing, gave his father a crafty look. "Sure. Just as long as you don't tell Mom all the stuff me an' Misty are going to be up to."
Overcome completely with his own hysterics, Jay slapped his forehead. "Ashton, do we have to have this discussion again?" he asked with facetious exasperation.
"Nah," Ash shrugged. "Don't worry, Dad, anything you and Mom will be doing on your honeymoon Misty and I won't do," he winked, shocking his dad into gaping in disbelief at him.
"You smart-mouth little punk!" he guffawed, grabbing his son's chin and shaking it. "I gotta watch out for you. You know too much!"
"Believe me, I don't know that much," Ash admitted calmly. "I'm just teasing ya."
Nodding, Jay took a deep breath from all the laughter. Patting Ash's cheek, he gazed down the street again, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. A brief moment of silence followed, the only sound being the gentle, continual hum of crickets. Ash relaxed happily, leaning against the door and wallowing in the wonderful feel of the warm day. He closed his tired eyes and yawned, increasing his longing for an afternoon nap.
"Actually, kid," Jay suddenly said, making Ash open his eyes lazily. His father was still looking off into the distance. "There's something I...I also want to make sure of before we leave."
"What's that?" Ash stood up and away from the door.
Jay pursed his lips. "Well, I...uh, I—I'm gonna say it straight out. If, by any chance, you happen to...you know, run into Gary, or you see him or something, please just...don't do something that—don't get yourself into a mess, how 'bout that?"
Ash felt a tightening in his stomach. How does he know? was the first thought that sprang to his head, but he quickly realized that that was impossible. The only person who knew about his plans at attemptable reconciliation with Gary was Misty, and he was positive she hadn't conversed with his father.
"I—I won't," Ash quickly vowed, hoping he hadn't just spoken a lie. He looked apprehensively at his feet.
"I know you won't," Jay responded, almost as if he was trying to convince himself of that. He smiled and shrugged one shoulder. "I mean, after yesterday, why would ya, right?"
You'd be surprised, Ash thought.
"I...I just wanted to make sure because...well, because I'm looking out for you. I don't wanna see you in another mess like that, kiddo."
Ash nodded, still looking down. All of sudden, he felt Jay approach and a large, warm hand caress the side of his head. He glanced up to find his dad smiling fondly at him.
"'Kay, Ash? Just promise me...promise me I'm not going to come home to hear something I won't like."
Ash's heart began to beat a little faster. I hope you don't, either, he thought. For a second, he almost prayed that Jay would stress it just a bit more. Maybe then it would help him make the important decision that his conscience was battling with.
"I don't want to be in a mess like that again, either," Ash replied, and quite candidly. And I really, really hope I won't be.
"All right," Jay ended softly, bringing him into a hug. Ash's hat tilting upwards as he smothered his face into his father's tee-shirt, inhaling the familiar scent of his after-shave.
"I love you, buddy." Jay rubbed Ash's back robustly, and kissed the top of his head. "Don't miss your old man too much now."
Ash chuckled. "I'll try not to. I love you, too, Daddy."
"When I get back, we can battle, okay?"
"Can we go looking for pokémon to catch, too?" Ash yapped excitedly.
"You bet!" his father beamed.
Just then, the front door swung open, and Ash lifted his head to see his mother smiling at the scene from the threshold.
"Are you two done out here, or do I have to rearrange my schedule around this?" she asked. Misty and Brock appeared behind her, and inched their way past to come outside. Pikachu scurried out into the sunshine as well.
"I think we're done," Jay replied. He looked down at Ash to verify. "Right?"
Giving him a cheeky grin, Ash grappled his dad in another big bear hug. "Take me with you?" he begged, causing his parents to laugh.
"Aw, I wish I could, sweetheart," Delia said, massaging his shoulders affectionately. "But I need a man to stay behind and look after the house now, don't I?"
"Yeah," Jay smirked. "Good thing we have Brock, huh?"
Ash instantly gave him a disgruntled look. "Don't I feel under-privileged."
"Oooh, a big word!" Misty gibed. She shoved Ash lightly, who swayed comically as if he were to fall over. "You're right, I don't think we're giving you enough credit."
"Exactly," commented Ash, insulted. "Besides, I know big words."
"Of course you do, honey," Delia shook her head at her boy's silliness. She sighed happily. "Well, I think we should hit the road. What do you say, hon?"
Jay shrugged. "Whenever you're ready," he smiled. The suitcases were already packed away in the car, the good-byes being the last business to attend to.
Which, as much as having the whole house to themselves for four whole days sounded great, Ash wasn't entirely looking forward to. It was certainly a change from the norm: never was he the one seeing people off. He didn't want his parents to leave, but he wanted them to have the best time they could possibly have. He wasn't prepared to damper that in any way. Instead, he put on a cheerful smile as Delia delivered a kiss to his cheek.
"Be safe and be good..." she sang, then brought her lips to his ear to whisper, "and don't forget to change everyday."
"Mama," Ash blushed. "What kind of slob do you take me for?" Delia grinned and pinched his ear lovingly before turning to Misty and Brock.
"Bye, kids," she said, giving them each a kiss. "Look after my little boy, and make sure he does all his chores!"
"Good-bye, Mom," Ash grumbled, shooing her away.
"Have fun!" Brock called as Delia and Jay made their way down the walk towards the car.
"If you see my sisters, stick your tongue out at them for me!" Misty cried in playful malevolence.
"Oh, I'll be sure to," Delia pledged with a laugh, winking.
The three kids waved the car away until it disappeared down the road. Ash's eyes lingered a bit longer, wishing their trip nothing but delight thereafter. He hoped the same for himself, his plan for ending his troubles with Gary more than just an idea now, despite the conversation with his father. In fact, not only was he considering it fully, but he was even anxious to get it done as soon as possible. If only his parents—and Misty and Brock—knew the risky duty he was assigning himself.
The yard became quiet again, and they stood on the stoop admiring the bright scenery in contentment. It was Misty who finally broke the silence, her gleeful voice speaking the obvious but stirring them nonetheless.
"I can't believe we have the whole house to ourselves for the next four days!"
"Yeah, it's going to be fun," Brock agreed lively. "Wonder what we can do?"
"Ooh, I don't know," replied Misty briskly, letting antsy Togepi down to roam around the front yard.
"Clean up," Ash suddenly said, wrenching his friends' heads in his direction skeptically.
"What did you say?" Misty exclaimed with a laugh.
He turned to them matter-of-factly. "We're gonna clean," he answered with a small smile. "The house, I mean. We're gonna make sure this place is spotless by the time my folks come home."
For a moment, there was a hush as Misty and Brock stared at their young friend like he had two heads.
"Well, of course it'll be," Brock finally said, giving a short chuckle. "I'm way ahead of you on that, Ash."
"What do you think we were gonna do? Have trash lying around when they come home?" Misty snickered.
Ash laughed and waved his hands around. "No, guys, you don't know what I mean!" His voice became serious as much as it was humored. "I mean we're gonna clean this place from top to bottom! We're gonna wash the floors and the windows and the bathroom, and we're gonna vacuum, and dust, and we're gonna do all the laundry and stuff. When Mom and Dad come home, the place is going to be perfect. They're not going to have one thing to complain about or do, 'cause we're going to do everything."
He stopped, smiling at them with both enthusiasm and expectancy. The goal to make the house immaculate for his parents was a hasty one, but secure. Though it wasn't his cup of tea—and neither seeing Gary again, but he tried not to think about it—Ash was all for it. Just the thought of how pleased it would make Delia and Jay made him eager. But all he received, once again, were bizarre stares.
"Who are you?" Misty narrowed her eyes.
Ash slumped, his smile weakening. "Me, Misty. Come on."
"Okay," she gave in. "But what's the matter with you? Are you feeling okay?" She turned to Brock. "I don't think he got enough sleep last night."
Running a hand through his sweaty hair beneath his cap, Ash sighed. "I got plenty of sleep last night—well, actually no, I didn't, but that's not why I want to do this."
"Ash, you never want to clean," Misty pointed out. "Your room is a good example."
Ash smiled proudly. "Well, that's gonna be cleaned, too! Mom's going to be so happy when she comes home and sees the place. It'll be great!"
"You're kidding, Ash," Brock said, cocking an eye.
"No, I'm not, I'm serious!" he cried, hopping around on his feet. For someone so tired, he was quite happily animated. "I really, really want to do this. I really wanna clean the house for them. Brock, I thought you'd be totally into this!"
"Oh, I am, I am!" Brock replied. "I have absolutely no problem doing some cleaning, you know me. It's just that...this isn't you at all."
"Yeah, Ash, what's up with you?" Misty wondered. "Seriously, are you sick or something?"
The stickiness became too much, and Ash took his hat off to fan himself with it. "I'm not sick," he said calmly. "I just have a lot to make up to my parents. So I wanna do this."
"What do you mean, make up?" Brock asked. "For what?"
"You know," Ash shrugged, as if it was evident and they were simply playing ignorant. "All that crap I've been doing lately. I wanna show them I can be mature and take care of the house. And I haven't really been doing a lotta chores lately either, so this'll make up for it. And for getting drunk, too; forgot about that," he grinned skittishly.
"But Ash, your mom didn't really care about that," Brock brought up, laughing.
Ash tipped his head. "Eh, she didn't show it, but I know she's upset about it. So are you with me or not on this?" he said, getting back to the subject at hand.
"Sure, I'm with you," replied Misty, knowing it was the least she could do for Ash's parents after being put up so long. She laughed. "But it's just not you! The Ash I know would've already been raiding the snack cabinet!"
Ash laughed, too. "Well, I'll do that, too, but I'll make sure I vacuum the crumbs if there are any."
"Wow. At least now I don't have to put 'Ash didn't do his chores' on the list," joked Brock.
Ash wrinkled his nose at him. "What list? You mean you're actually going to make a list of the things I do wrong to give to my parents?"
Brock shrugged tauntingly. "I could."
"Well, don't even bother, Brock," Ash said unwaveringly. "You won't have anything to put on it. Because all I'm gonna do this week is clean up and have fun."
And become rival-free, he added to himself, speculating what they would say when they'd find out his daring plan. Maybe he should take back the part about Brock not starting a list, he wondered. Because if it didn't go right, the outcome would take up slots one through ten on it.
"Okay," Brock said, "I believe you. But I'm watching you, too." That got Misty giggling, but Ash just looked him in the eye, an inexpressive smile on his face. He knew it was all in jest.
"So?" Misty said after a quiet pause. "What do you guys want to do?"
Ash stopped breathing, knowing exactly what he wanted to do. Still, his own doubts kept him from saying a thing, wondering if now really was the right time. After all, it was barely noon—he hadn't eaten lunch, and his headache was unfortunately returning.
I shouldn't put it off, though, he thought, looking to the ground as if his friends could see what he was thinking through his pensive eyes. If I wait too long, he might leave...I'd lose my chance.
He couldn't do that; he had no idea how long Gary would be sticking around before continuing his journey. He'd been home even longer than Ash had, which meant he was bound to leave sooner or later. And besides, he figured, it was best to do it and get it over with. Whatever the result might be.
"I dunno," Brock answered Misty. "Whatever Ash wants to do, I suppose."
This got Ash's heart pumping furiously. Yeah, I'm sure you really want to do what I want to do, he almost laughed out loud.
"What do you want to do, Ash?" Misty yawned, looking down as she brushed some lint off her tank top.
Well, you have to do it sometime, Ash prompting himself. Might as well make that time now.
"I, uh," he started, unwittingly making his voice sound contemplative. He propped his hands on his hips and looked down the road, towards Gary's house. Shutting his eyes tightly as he felt his heart lurch, he continued, "I think I'm going to go to Gary's house."
The responding silence made him nervously turn around. There were Brock and Misty, staring at him incredulously. His second head must have grown back.
"What!?" Brock finally gasped.
"Why are you going to Gary's house?" Misty practically shrieked.
Ash looked at her and sighed, preparing for the onslaught of disapproval. "Don't you remember what I was telling you last night?"
"What did you tell her?" Brock wanted to know hastily.
Misty rolled her eyes. "Oh, something stupid about wanting to make up with Gary," she replied hotly.
"Not wanting to make up with him," Ash corrected. "Wanting to apologize to him and end any kind of contact with him—forever."
"Ash, that is just ridiculous!" she didn't hesitate in belting out. "When you said that last night, I thought it was because you were half-asleep! Don't tell me you're actually serious about this!"
"I don't know if I am completely," admitted Ash, blinking. "But I want to do it; I can't get it off my mind."
"So you're gonna go now," Brock assumed. An absurd assumption, at that.
"I might as well."
Misty was aghast. "Ash, your parents haven't even been gone five minutes!"
"It doesn't matter how long they've been gone!" Ash said, shrugging widely. "Even if they were home, I'd still do it."
"Oh, you would not!" she nearly screamed at him.
Ash reeled back slightly. He'd expected her to object firmly, but not viciously.
She approached him imperiously. "Don't tell me that after what happened at the reception, you'd go walking up to Gary's house with your parents home! Give me a break!"
"Actually, I would!" Ash retorted. He found himself backing up as Misty bore down on him, despite his argument. "Because I want to show 'em that I'm mature enough to do something like this! That I can be around Gary without fighting with him!"
"But Ash, that's the thing! You can't!" she contradicted. "You said yourself that you couldn't control yourself yesterday. So what makes today any different!?"
Ash bit his lip hard, his breathing heavy. Oh, maybe because I realized what a stupid ass I am, thanks to you and Dad, he wanted to snap at her. He didn't, though; he didn't want to fight. That was exactly what Misty was trying to do. For good cause, of course, but regardless, he needed support in this, not antagonism.
Instead, he replied pointedly, "It's called learning from my mistakes."
"No, I think you're wrong," Misty disputed. "Because if you really learned something yesterday, you wouldn't even think of going near Gary today."
"Yeah," Brock shook his head. Although he didn't want to doubt Ash's determination to fix his problems, this didn't sound too wise to him. "Ash, I really don't think this is a good idea."
"Give it some time," Misty instructed, her tone now one of guidance rather than demand. "If you stay away, you won't fight."
They don't understand, Ash thought fretfully. "Yeah, but I want to make sure there're no fights in the future, either, Misty. I can end this—maturely. I know I can. That's what I want to do. I want to be able to go up to Gary, tell him I don't want to fight anymore, and we won't fight anymore. Because we won't even know each other."
Misty stared at him. "And you really think you can do that?"
"Without fighting?" Brock added.
"Without fighting," he repeated. He cocked his head at that, signifying his sturdy resolve.
"There you have it," Misty announced, turning to Brock. "Dumb thing number one."
Brock nodded as if to make a mental note.
"Guys," Ash stamped his foot, which yanked Misty's attention back to him.
"No, let me get this straight," she said, still trying to come to grips with it. "You want to walk up to Gary's house, ring his bell, and tell him that you don't want anything to do with him anymore."
"Yup," Ash nodded. "Exactly."
"Without fighting?"
"Yes, without fighting. Without yelling, fighting, battling, whatever."
Misty and Brock exchanged a look, sustaining their shared skepticism. Their feelings were no secret to Ash. He knew what they were expecting: that he would confront Gary with the supposed will to keep things clean, when in reality he had every impulse to issue another vicious brawl, concluding in, once again, the augmentation of the problem rather than the solution.
But Ash wasn't going to let that happen. Not now. Not after what happened the day before. Scenes of the battle flashed to his mind again, scenes of him cowering against the wall as his furious father loomed over. And then Jay's words, dripping with disgrace: "If you can't be mature and put your stubborn differences aside for one day, Ash, then there's something really wrong here." There was something wrong, Ash acknowledged. And he was going to fix it, no matter what Misty and Brock thought.
"No," Misty said, waving her hands around. "I don't trust you. If you do this, I'm coming with you."
"Me, too," Brock said.
"Guys, no," Ash moaned. "I'm gonna do this on my own. I have to."
"But then no one can stop you if you do something stupid," Brock said, brutally frank.
His muscles tensing, Ash was a step away from exploding. He couldn't believe how much his friends were against him.
"I'm not going to do something stupid!" he exclaimed. "Come on, guys! You think I'm gonna go over there and repeat what happened yesterday? After I embarrassed myself in front of half the party, after my dad almost killed me for it? You think I want that to happen again!?"
"You don't want that to happen again," Misty said, "but you don't realize that what you're doing could very well lead to that."
"But it won't lead to that," Ash grumbled, glowering at her. "There won't be any fighting, Misty! Why can't you trust me on that?"
"Ash, listen to me," she grumbled right back, her teeth grit impatiently. "Yesterday I tried to talk you out of battling with Gary, but you didn't listen to me. No, you just went and did what you thought was best, and look where it got you. Don't you think it'd be smart if you listened to me now? That maybe—just perhaps—I know what I'm talking about?"
At that, her voice peaked piercingly, and Brock quickly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Misty, leave it alone," he ordered. "If he wants to go and do it, then let him."
Both Ash and Misty were shocked at this interruption, but for different reasons. Ash wasn't entirely pleased with Brock's opinion, however, as he could hear the permission wasn't exactly granted with blessing.
And was he ever right. "If he wants to go, and cause another big scene with Gary, let him," Brock went on. "It's his funeral, not ours."
Misty's grim smirk seemed to agree to this, but Ash wasn't going to accept that kind of attitude.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.
"You know exactly what I mean," Brock replied sharply.
And it was true; Ash did know what he meant. If his confrontation with Gary didn't go smoothly—in fact, ended disastrously—Misty and Brock's wrath now would only be the preview of what was to come when his parents returned.
"For the last time, I'm not going to fight with Gary!" he proclaimed, ignoring the warning. "Here, look, look!" He furiously grabbed at his belt, snatching each and every pokéball off of it. Shoving them at Brock and Misty, they had no choice but to accept them clumsily. "Here're my pokémon. I won't bring them, okay!? That's all of them. And Pikachu will stay here, too."
"Pikachu!" Pikachu complained, always hating to be left behind, but Ash quickly shot him a firm glare.
"No, you're staying, Pikachu. I'm not bringing you. I'm doing this alone, and you're all gonna be surprised. You'll see."
Misty looked down at the pokéballs in her hands, then up at him. "Well, how do I know you're not going to start a fist-fight with him? Huh?"
For the first time since the start of the debate, Ash smiled. "Because I've been in fist-fights with him before, Misty. When we were kids. He almost broke my nose once. You think I want that to happen again?" He laughed. "Besides, what will I tell my folks if I have a black eye or a broken nose when they come home? They'll know something happened then."
To his surprise, Brock laughed. "Well, we could always say you didn't clean up after yourself, and I finally had it with you."
While he and Misty chortled at that, Ash rolled his eyes. "Har har," he droned.
"Oh, Ash," Misty came stumbling up to him, her giggles dying down affably. She cradled the pokéballs against her stomach with one hand as she shook his shoulder with the other. "Come on, please don't do this. It's going to be all right, you know it will be. Let's have lunch or go train our pokémon or something instead. Okay?"
"Yeah, I'll make something good," Brock offered. He suddenly felt confident that plugging the concept of food would impel Ash to change his mind. "How 'bout barbecued hamburgers?"
Misty jumped around and thrust her arm in the air. "Ooh, I vote for those!"
Ash's mouth watered at the mention of it, but it didn't erase the project from his mind. "That sounds good, Brock," he said. "You can make them while I go talk to Gary." With that, he turned to leave.
"Ash!" Misty whined. "No, don't go, please!"
"You should think about this," Brock recommended severely.
But Ash was already sauntering down the walkway. He paused outside the fence, and looked back. His friends stood motionlessly on the porch, Misty giving him a pained look while Brock's face seemed to say: "Fine. Do what you want, but you'll be sorry." Pikachu was shifting around on his feet, itching to run to Ash's side, but stayed put.
"I'll be back soon," he bid farewell. He gave a short wave and a reassuring smile, directed especially at Misty. "Everything'll be fine. Don't worry." His voice lowered inadvertently, as he needed the optimistic message to ease his own jittery nerves. Unbeknownst to his friends, he was breaking into a sweat.
Not waiting for Misty or Brock's good-byes, he started down the road. The sun was now beginning to break through the thin layer of haze, burning down on the back of his neck. He watched his feet as he walked, not needing to lift his head to know where he was going. Having made this walk more times then he could count, it was almost like second nature. It was remarkable he didn't know the exact number of steps it took to get there, though he never really thought to do such a thing; most of the time, he had sprinted there, not able to wait another second to go exploring or waste the day at his best friend's house.
In fact, with the walk came a flood of memories, but Ash tried desperately to rid his head of them. He didn't need any of those, whether they were nice or not. He had to keep his mind to task, to remember what he was making this trip for: to do away with an acquaintance gone wrong—forever. One he was definitely better off without. No longer would he have to worry about upholding his performance according to some stupid rivalry, to try to prove himself in such a foolish way. Never again would he have to deal with the type of clashes that had befallen him lately, seemed to haunt him.
Still, as much as he was set on accomplishing this, he felt a pang of sadness in his heart. It was enough to sting his eyes with tears. He never wanted it to be this way. After all the years that he had spent with Gary, who would have known he'd be on his way there now, intent on telling his former friend off once and for all? Before he'd met Misty and Brock, Gary was the only friend who knew everything about him, because Ash shared everything with him. They'd known each other since Ash was a baby, only to become inseparable years later, only to lead to this moment. How could something braced with such fond memories turn out so wrong? It left Ash hanging in disbelief as, like he had estimated, he stopped and lifted his eyes to behold Gary's home before him, quiet and bright in the morning sun.
Something then and there told him to turn back. But he didn't. He shut his eyes as he felt his stomach leap to his throat. Perhaps he should have listened to his friends. Because at that moment, as he forced his legs to move and he began the fateful walk up the path leading to Gary's front door, even he didn't know what was about to happen.
But there was time to retreat—until he rang the doorbell, that was. His finger lingered over the lit button, knowing each euphonic chime that would resound upon pressing it. In that moment, he recalled another memory. He was seven, Gary was eight. Of course, he would only be eight for two months before Ash turned the same age, but he was always sure to emphasize his added seniority as the ultimate tease until then. The day was warm but windy, and they were huddled over Gary's father, watching him install the new doorbell with rapt interest. Ash could remember how amazed he was to see it done. His family had never put in a new doorbell; they had the same old one they always had. It was only after Gary was allowed to test the button for the first time and Ash heard the new chimes, like heavenly music compared to his bell's dull dongs, that he was struck with envy. They spent the rest of the afternoon rushing to the front door every now and then to ring it, then run away, resulting in Gary's mother coming to the door, laughing and tsk-tsking at their mischief. Later, Ash had bugged his mother to get a new doorbell for their home all during dinner, gushing about how great Gary's was. She insisted theirs was perfectly fine, but Ash had not let up about it for weeks to follow. It resulted in the doorbell they had now, not exactly Gary's, but new and special all the same.
Standing there frozen as a statue, his finger poised over the button, Ash's face contorted as he struggled to keep his tears in check. The doorbell memory was only a fragment of the others that teemed in his mind. The sight of the house alone was torture. The front door reminded him of Halloween—Gary's house was the first he'd always hit. From his spot on the stoop, he could just see into the living room past the sheer drapes, where he and his family had spent every other New Year's Eve, watching the ball drop. The alternating years were spent at his house, but no matter where it was, Ash and Gary had to snap their fingers in front of each other's faces constantly to keep awake.
Ash quickly shook his head. Stop thinking, stop thinking, stop thinking! he chanted distressfully to himself. But it was impossible to stop thinking. He had never done anything like this before...and he wondered if he even should—would—do it now. If he was emotionally capable of it.
I mean, I do want to do this...don't I?
There was no way to go back and change anything he would do, annul this meeting if it were to occur. Ash's mind was spinning with memories, doubts, and desires, all commingled together. He didn't know what he wanted at that exact moment, other than one of Brock's hamburgers and a nap. Neither was going to help him in this situation, sadly.
But then Ash strained to recall all the recent events with Gary—the sleepover; the battle; the heartless, thoughtless words he'd spoken about his father. All the grief that came with an arduous rivalry. Were all those years worth it now, what might take place in the future?
Am I sad about losing Gary...or just my childhood? Ash wondered, wiping sweat from his face with his sleeve. Dealing with such a grave decision was not fair.
Yet he didn't give himself any more time to dwell over his current quandary. Pursing his lips, he paused before pressing the doorbell.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Actually, will it be the conclusion? I mean, I can go on for chapters and chapters I suppose—hehe, nah, I won't do that. ~_^ BUT it isn't exactly the end. I know a lot of you thought this chapter was the last, but…well, I pulled a fast one on ya. :P There will be one final chapter after this, then the epilogue…though you can kind of say the epilogue is like a little one-shot all its own. Or you could just say BH has two more chapters to go, whichever you prefer. ^^ I'm kinda sad it's coming to an end, because when I say the end, I truly do mean the end. But don't worry, it's going to go out with a bang! Or at least I hope so. ^_^;; Who knows when the next chapters will come, as school starts next month, but that normally gets me going more than it does stall me. And as much as I hate to end this trilogy, since I've had so much fun writing it, I'm eager to get to that bang, you know? ^_^
And a note to moezy-chan: I got your wonderful review. ^_^ just screwed up again and it didn't show up, but I have it saved in my inbox. Thank you so much, and thanks to everyone who has reviewed! Till next time!
