"There, honey," Delia said, placing a bowl of hot vegetable soup in front of her son. "This should help you feel better." She then handed bowls of soup to both Tracey and Misty, who were also seated at the table in the middle of the Oak kitchen. "All of you need to eat."
"I don't feel like eating, Mom," Ash replied listlessly, pushing his bowl away.
"Neither do I," said Misty quietly, staring down at her bowl of soup.
"I've kind of lost my appetite too, Mrs. Ketchum," said Tracey.
"You'll get sick if you don't eat," Delia insisted, pushing the bowl of soup towards her son.
"Your mom's right, Ash," said a familiar voice.
Ash, Misty, and Tracey looked up in surprise and saw a tanned, spiky-haired, teenage boy standing in the doorway.
"I came as soon as Professor Oak called me with the news," Brock explained as Misty leapt up and gave her friend a hug. "How are you doing, Ash?"
The younger boy shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, I guess."
"I couldn't believe it when Professor Oak told me about Pikachu," Brock continued, seating himself at the kitchen table. "I thought he had made a mistake."
"It wasn't a mistake, Brock," Professor Oak said as he came into the kitchen.
"Professor, where's Pikachu?" Ash asked anxiously, jumping to his feet.
"He's back in the lab," Professor Oak replied.
"Thanks, Professor," Ash said, brushing past him and heading down the hallway.
"Oh, Pikachu," Ash murmured softly at the sight of his Pokémon, who lay in a small wooden casket in the middle of the examination table in the center of the lab.
"I picked out the nicest casket I had for Pikachu," Professor Oak explained as he followed Ash into the lab.
"Wow. I don't think Pikachu's ever been this clean," Ash remarked while he lightly stroked the shining fur on the Pokémon's belly. "Most of the time the two of us are pretty dirty. Sometimes we'd go for days without finding a shower or a Pokémon Center."
"I followed your instructions and didn't use anything too 'girly'," Professor Oak said, picking up a green bottle. "I thought Pikachu would like an apple-flavored shampoo."
"Yeah, Pikachu always liked apples and ketchup and stuff like that," Ash said softly, lightly stroking his Pokémon's left front paw and noticing that Professor Oak had taken the time to pick every bit of grit out from between the Pokémon's toes.
"Oh, Ash," Professor Oak said as the boy's eyes began to fill with tears. He laid a sympathetic arm across the boy's shoulders.
"I gotta stop doing this," Ash said, quickly wiping his tears away.
"It's all right for you to cry, Ash," Professor Oak said kindly. "It shows how much you loved Pikachu."
"Yeah, but guys aren't supposed to cry," Ash sniffled.
"Brock cried when I told him about Pikachu," Professor Oak said.
"Yeah, but Brock cries whenever he gets dumped by a girl," Ash said. "Which is at least once every couple of days."
Professor Oak smiled slightly at Ash's comment. "Tracey told me that he cried when he was out at the cemetery picking out a spot for Pikachu. And even I shed a few tears when I was cleaning up Pikachu."
Ash turned to his mentor in surprise. "You cried, Professor Oak? But you're…you're a guy!"
"I was fond of Pikachu too, Ash," Professor Oak said, gently stroking the Pokémon's belly.
"We all were," said Misty, who had just entered the lab with Brock and Tracey. At the sight of the little Pokémon lying peacefully in its casket, Misty began to cry once more.
"I have an idea," said Professor Oak. "Why don't we take Pikachu into the living room? I think everyone will be more comfortable in there." The small procession made its way down the hall into the living room where Professor Oak laid Pikachu's casket atop an antique end table on the opposite side of the couch.
"There. I think that's more appropriate," Professor Oak said, moving the table in front of the fireplace so everyone could see Pikachu when they first entered the room.
Misty picked up a small flower arrangement that was sitting atop the mantle and placed it at Pikachu's head. "There. That looks nice."
"It certainly does, Misty," Delia agreed as she came into the room. "Matter of fact, I think I'll go home right now and pick some more flowers for Pikachu from my garden. Ash, sweetie, why don't you come home now and…"
"I'm not leaving Pikachu, Mom," Ash declared, seating himself on the couch next to his Pokémon. "I wanna stay here tonight with Pikachu."
"But honey, you're tired. You need to get some sleep," Delia insisted. "Come home."
"Pikachu never left my side, so I'm not leaving his," Ash said firmly, shaking his head.
"It's all right, Delia," said Professor Oak. "Ash can stay here tonight."
"And we're going to stay right here with you," said Brock, seating himself next to Ash.
"We're not leaving you or Pikachu," said Misty, seating herself on Ash's opposite side.
"I'll go get some pillows and blankets for everyone," said Tracey, who headed upstairs.
"In that case, I'm staying here too, Sam," Delia said as the two made their way back to the kitchen. "Ash may need me during the night."
"Delia, I think Ash will be fine. His friends are going to stay here with…"
"I'm not leaving my son, Sam," Delia said stubbornly. "My little boy's hurting, and I'm not going to leave him."
"I wasn't asking you to leave, Delia," Professor Oak said, taking her into his arms. "Personally, I'd rather have you around tonight too."
"Speaking of which, I think I should sleep in the guest room tonight," Delia said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Just in case Ash comes looking for me in the middle of the night."
"That's probably a wise move. I don't think Ash would be able to deal with learning that the two of us normally share my room when you're over here," Professor Oak said, giving her a quick kiss. The two had been friends for years, but only recently had their relationship become more intimate.
There was a thump at the back door, and Professor Oak reluctantly parted from Delia's soft warmth to answer it. He opened the door and found a small, blue-green dinosaur Pokémon standing on the back porch.
"Hello, Bulbasaur. How's everyone taking the news?"
"Saur. Bulba. Bulbasaur." ("Pretty hard. I've asked Noctowl to go tell Pidgeot. He said that they would split up and go find Charizard and Squirtle.") As overseer of the preserve, Bulbasaur had spent most of the afternoon and evening telling the other Pokémon about Pikachu's death.
"Of all the Pokémon at the preserve, you were Pikachu's friend the longest." Professor Oak said, bending down to stroke the grass Pokémon's head. "How are you doing?"
"Bulba," ("All right.") the Pokémon replied sadly. "Bulbasaur." ("I still can't believe it.")
"Neither can I," agreed Professor Oak with a sigh. "Anyway, please tell the other Pokémon that Pikachu's funeral will be late tomorrow afternoon. That way, everyone can pay their respects during the morning."
"Bulba." ("I will.") Even though the Pokémon wanted to stay to help console Ash, Bulbasaur had to go console Phanpy, Cyndaquil, and some of the other younger Pokémon.
"Everyone really loved Pikachu," Delia said, brushing away a tear.
"Let's get some sleep, Delia," Professor Oak said, closing the back door. "We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow." He took her by the hand and led her upstairs.
-
While the two adults slept, downstairs the four teens spent the night reminiscing about their adventures with Pikachu. What had started out as a vigil for the little Pokémon ended up becoming a wake.
"…and Pikachu was absolutely covered with ketchup from head to toe!"
Even Ash smiled at Tracey's retelling of a funny episode that had happened during their journey in the Orange Islands.
"Oh, man…it's late," Brock said as the grandfather clock in the hallway struck midnight. "We'd better get some sleep."
"Yeah," Misty yawned in agreement. "Let's unroll our sleeping bags."
"You don't have to do that, Misty," Tracey said, pulling the cushions off of the couch. "This sofa unfolds into a bed. You guys can sleep here. I'll crash on the loveseat."
"Misty, you or Brock can take the bed," Ash said, seating himself in the chair that sat next to the table with Pikachu's casket. "I'm gonna stay right here with Pikachu."
"Ash, you'll get a stiff neck if you sleep there," Misty admonished. "You take the bed."
Ash shook his head. "That's okay, Misty." He reached out and stroked his Pokémon's paw. "It's our last night together, so I'm gonna stay here with him."
"We all are," said Brock, laying a hand on his friend's shoulder. "And Misty's right. You won't be able to function tomorrow if you're exhausted. You take the bed." Reluctantly, Ash let Brock guide him to the bed in the middle of the room.
"That's it. Now you just lie there and rest," Misty said soothingly as she covered Ash with a blanket. "I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."
"Good night, guys," Tracey said, turning out the lamp on the table next to the loveseat.
Ash didn't realize how exhausted he was until his head hit the pillow. In less than a minute, he was snoring softly.
"Good night, Ash," Misty whispered quietly as she kissed his cheek.
-
"C'mon, Pikachu…use your Thundershock," Ash mumbled to himself. Suddenly, his eyes shot open and Ash realized that he wasn't in the middle of the Orange League Championship battle. And then he saw Pikachu's casket illuminated by a moonbeam along the far wall.
It was a dream, Ash thought sadly. It was all a dream.
Unconsciously, Ash reached for the spot next to his side where his faithful Pokémon normally slept.
"Oh, Pikachu," Ash whispered as the tears started to fall once more. Being careful not to wake his friends, Ash slipped out of bed and crept over to where his Pokémon lay.
"I'm right here, buddy," Ash said as he began stroking his Pokémon's ears.
"Ash?"
The boy jumped and whirled around in surprise to see Misty raise her head from the recliner where she was sleeping. "Ash, are you all right?"
Ash quickly sniffed back his tears. "Yeah, Mist. I'm okay," he replied unconvincingly.
Misty rose from her chair, stretched out her aching back, and silently tiptoed her way over to her grieving friend.
"I'm gonna make the creeps who did this to Pikachu pay," Ash whispered angrily, clutching the edge of Pikachu's coffin. "They killed him, Mist. They killed Pikachu."
Misty stifled a sob. "Oh, Ash…I wouldn't blame you if you hated me for the rest of your life!"
Ash gave her a bewildered look. "Huh? What are you talking about, Misty?"
"It's my fault," Misty wept. "If I had kept my eye on Togepi and not let it wander off, then Pikachu wouldn't be…wouldn't be…" Misty broke down sobbing.
"Misty, it's not your fault," Ash said, as he embraced her. "You didn't do this to Pikachu." The boy's voice hardened. "It was Team Rocket that did this. And if I get my hands on them, they're gonna pay for what they did."
"Ash, why would Team Rocket want to do this to Pikachu? They've always tried to capture him, but they've never tried to kill him before."
"Well, they did, Misty. And they'd better hope that I don't catch up with them. I never want to see those bastards again as long as I live because I might…I might…oh, Misty…" Tears of grief, anger, and frustration began rolling down Ash's face.
The pair remained in each other's arms for several minutes, both crying softly. Finally, an exhausted Ash allowed Misty to lead him back to his sofa bed. There, he sobbed into his pillow while Misty stroked his hair comfortingly. It wasn't until shortly before dawn that he finally fell asleep once more.
To be continued…