Again, I have an old dedication: This chapter is for 'spruceton spook' for her great reviews and support!

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Painful Secrets

Chapter 6 --- The War between Fear and Pride

At first, Ash froze and just laid there in his bed thinking the unimaginable over in his mind. His first thought that his dad had killed those two kids hit him like a bullet. It was like his worst fears had come true. But after that shock had settled in, it created room in his mind for contradiction.

'Ok,' He thought to himself. 'So a couple of kids were murdered outside Vermilion City. That doesn't mean anything, right? I mean, it means that there's a killer on the loose, and he probably lives there or around there. And if Misty was right then he would want to skip town, but that doesn't mean it's my dad, right? I'm being totally ridiculous about this whole thing. My dad beat me a long time ago, but that doesn't mean he would now, and it doesn't mean he'd kill anyone.'

Ash tried to let this thought comfort him, but it didn't. No matter how he tried to think it through, two kids were beaten to death near a naturally peaceful city where the only violence that he knew of was his own father, trying to beat him to death years ago. And that made it impossible to find any sort of comfort in himself. Because if it had happened, it was Ash's fault, and it didn't matter what Misty said. It was Ash's fault just as much as his dad's, because Ash had let him get away with it. He had let his dad think he could do anything, so he had. It left such a crushing feeling on Ash's heart that his chest felt heavy and he found it hard to breath. He tried to push it out of his mind, and think about the rationality of all this.

He, Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town, merely eleven years old, actually suspected his father of murder, and he had good reason to. But that didn't matter one bit unless he could get proof. He had no proof. No hard evidence, not even enough for he, himself to know it wasn't just the crazy idea of some sick little boy.

He might be able to tarnish his father's record, so that it stood against him, but that certainly wasn't proof. And coming back to an earlier thought, he didn't have proof that he was ever hit, either! His scars were so faint now. There was no mistaking what they were from, if Ash told you, but if not, they just looked at a glance like lots of scars from old sports injuries, and lots of doctors had claimed to have never seen any at all!

There was no reason for his friends to stand by him with this. He knew how ridiculous it sounded, especially under the circumstances. The entire reason that Ash had gotten sick in the first place was because his memories and his dad scared him so much, that his fears had escalated. This could be the same thing.

Ash was young but he wasn't stupid, contrary to the popular belief of some people. He knew that if he, a sick child with his past and the recent emotional trauma he'd just been through, made a claim like this, his family may think he needed help and take him to see a doctor or a therapist or something, and Ash knew he wasn't crazy. He wasn't crazy…. was he? No.

Therefore… he couldn't tell anyone about this. He had just told Brock and Misty his biggest secret so he could be free of the pain, and now he had another one, and it was even worse, and he couldn't tell them… at least not right away. Maybe after the visit. If he could get proof. But how could he get proof?

'Maybe I am going crazy,' thought Ash. 'This is getting stupid. But I just have this feeling…. No. I'm not crazy. To prove it, I'm not going to accuse any one of anything until I've got proof. I know what the marks my dad's hands leave on someone. I've had them so many times. Tomorrow, I'll watch the news, and if they show pictures, I'll be able to see what I've done.

Lots of people are messed up, and it's doubtful that it's my dad. The chances are a million to one. But I'll watch just in case, and if the marks on those kids match the marks on me, I'll know. That's all the proof I need, even if it isn't enough for anyone else. What I do after that will depend on what I learn tomorrow.'

His mind semi set, Ash turned over and closed his eyes. The decision had calmed him slightly; he always did better when he felt in control of the situation. He was decided in that matter and could now relax slightly. But the fact that in his mind he was responsible for murder was too much for him. He kept thinking that if only he wasn't so scared, if only he could have been brave and talked, maybe those kids would be alive now.

Eventually, his exhaustion took over and he fell asleep. Ash had been slightly afraid to sleep, fearing that his conscious thoughts might follow him into his dreams. They did…

------

It was afternoon. Ash was standing outside a school, watching young teens laughing and coming out of their class rooms. His vision was blinking in and out so furiously it was as if it was all a long flip book. He saw them all part ways and walk in the general direction to their homes. He saw a group of three girls laughing and walking down the street towards the outskirts of town. There was a huge flash of light.

Now he was watching these three girls part ways at the edge of the forest surrounding the city. Ash recognized the place because he had been there with his dad, and he had also been lost for three weeks in this forest with Misty and Brock when he was aiming for his third badge so long ago.

He watched as two of the girls turned back toward the city at this point, waving good bye to the third girl, whom they had agreed to walk with up to this point, before heading home themselves. The girl left alone was about Ash's age, but had no face that he could see.

Ash somehow knew that, to her, he wasn't there. She wouldn't see him or hear him if he'd tried to talk to her. She walked straight past him and into the woods down the road a ways. Another huge flash of light surrounded him.

He was now much further along down the road. He was on top of a hill on the side of the road. Above him, Spearow flew. He could see wheedle climbing some of the trees around him. Down the road, he could see the girl walking along the road in his general direction, to pass him up and continue onward, while up ahead he could be a new looking forest green truck parked on the side on the dirt road. There was a man standing by the truck eating a burger, and he saw the girl walking towards him.

Ash couldn't make out the man well from where he was standing, but he did see the man checking his watch, then turn again and look at the girl, who hadn't yet noticed him. She was reading a book as she walked, and not really paying attention to anything around her.

The man walked around to the back his truck, pulled something out of the bed of it, and start to walk towards the girl, with the small object hidden behind his back.

Ash felt a sickening feeling building up in him. Forgetting that the girl couldn't hear, he started trying to call to her and warn her to run. He could hear himself, but his voice had no effect on them. Another flash surrounded him.

He was now standing near the girl as she put her book down seeing the man for the first time. The man greeted her and told her that his truck was broken down. He asked if she knew anyone near by who would let them use their phone. She smiled and told him to follow her. Ash wanted to warn her again, but it wouldn't matter. No one could hear him, and the second the girl turned her back, the man had grabbed her and stuffed a thick, dry wash cloth in her mouth so she couldn't scream.

As Ash watched the man drag the struggling girl up the hill, he saw that the man had no face, and a voice that he didn't recognize. There was another flash.

The girl was now tied to a tree. Well, her wrists were tied to a thick branch and her feet were dangling about a foot off the ground. Her legs were bound and she was heavily gagged. Tears were streaming down her dirty face and she was trying to scream to no avail.

Now the world started to spin for Ash as the man started to beat her violently and yell at her. No one could hear them in the middle of no where. He had gagged her so he wouldn't have to listen to her.

But Ash heard it. His vision was fuzzy and flashing in and out, though the sound was clear all the way through. His own sobs mixed with the girl's muffled sobbing screams and the man's shouting pounded through his own head. He couldn't bear it, he couldn't do anything about it, though he was right there. The pain that she was feeling, it was like he could to and it hurt him more than anything else ever had. Finally the girl's screaming suddenly stopped and she hung dead from the branch as the man continued to yell.

Ash was dizzy and hot and he felt himself about to get sick.

-----

Ash woke without fully realizing it, and immediately rolled over and vomited next to his futon. He rolled over on his other side and lay there breathing heavily, facing the bed, the dizziness washing over him. His fever was burning inside him, he could feel it.

Then he felt another thing. A hand was rubbing his back. He looked up and saw Misty, who was kneeling in front if him. She had laid one hand on his arm while the other was wrapped around him with her hand on his back. She wasn't upset about the puddle of emesis on the floor, as he had half expected her to be. She didn't even ask any questions. She simply got down low and stayed next to him, quietly caressing his back as he tried to catch his breath. Pikachu had gone down with Brock because it was too hot upstairs that night.

Ash closed his eyes and tried to relax his body, which was shaking, and to hold back his tears. He wasn't sure how, but it was working. He just concentrated on calming his breaths. He knew if he started to cry again, she would ask him why. But if he could hold back, he might get away with just saying he felt sick.

After a few minutes, he had relaxed his body a bit. He turned to her and said "Thanks, Mist."

She looked down at his now with a small smile. "Are you ok now, Ash?"

"Yeah, I just had a really bad dream."

"About your dad?"

"No. It was probably just because I was sick, and it made my dream bad."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Ash thought for a moment. "Yeah." He whispered, finally. He did want to talk about it, as long as he didn't say who he thought it was in the dream. He talked slowly, without expression, as if he could see it replaying itself in his mind.

"There was a man and a little girl, our age. And she was walking home from school, and he grabbed her and dragged her into the woods, where he tied her to a tree and started to beat her, like my dad beat me. Except this man… this man beat the girl to death." Ash was looking ahead as he talked, as though he could see it playing over in front of him. "And it was like I wasn't even there, Misty. I screamed, but she couldn't hear me. I couldn't warn her. I couldn't do anything to stop it. I wasn't… I-I couldn't…" Ash began to feel sick again and grabbed Misty's hand to ground himself to her reality.

Misty brought his hand to her chest and ran her other hand through his hair soothingly, "It's ok, Ash. It wasn't real. It was just a dream."

Ash relaxed, remaining as if in deep thought for a few seconds, then seemed to snap out of it and said "Yeah, I know. Don't worry Misty, I'm ok." He was looking into her eyes, which looked a bit unsure and worried for him, and he forced a smile for her.

But inside he wasn't so sure. It hadn't seemed very dream like. The atmosphere had, but the events and how they had unfolded had seemed so real. It had been more like a flash back than a dream.

He got up and went to the bathroom, and brought back some towels to clean the floor. He didn't say a word until he was done and had put everything away. Then he went to lay back down and almost felt relieved to see that Misty hadn't moved from beside his mattress. He curled back up in bed, and she sat up closer to him.

"Do you know who the people you saw were?" Misty asked once he was comfortable again.

"Well, I have sort of an idea, but I'm not sure, so I guess not. They didn't have faces, it was strange…"

Misty decided not to push it further. There was silence for a few minutes. Then Ash looked up at her again suddenly.

"Misty? Do you think my dad could have hurt anyone else because of me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Because I didn't tell anyone? Do you think after I left, he could have hurt other people maybe?"

"I don't know, Ash." Misty was still running her fingers through his hair, calming him, even if he hadn't seemed to notice it.

He had grown quiet, and Misty knew he was exhausted and needed his rest now that he was sick again. She also knew that he felt scared to fall back to sleep, now. So she would have to take him there, and she knew just how to do that.

------

Ash had decided to drop the topic of his father, and started trying to find some thing else to talk about.

He didn't know how he would ever be able to show her how he much appreciated her just being there. Not being repulsed out of touching him. If anything, she seemed to be willing to touch him more than before, and that meant… more to him than he could ever say. Her touch said things her words could not, and held more meaning than what she could say: "I trust you. I care about you. I won't leave you. I'll always support you. When you fall I'll catch you. I don't hate you." Her touch was like a constant reminder of all of these phrases and more, and he loved her for them. He loved her…

Then he felt a change in her motion. He closed his eyes and felt her fingertips glide from his temple down his cheek softly, then start stoking his neck in that same hypnotic way as it had before. He had never actually noticed it enough to really feel it before, though, and now that he did, he felt a small wave of pleasure run through him like he'd never felt before. Ash couldn't suppress the small moan that escaped him.

He knew he should feel embarrassed, but he heard her laugh softly and opened his eyes to see Misty smiling at him. He was also realizing that the touch she was giving him also truly did make him feel extremely sleepy and unable to fight it. He remembered Brock telling him how she had stayed up with him the night before, and remembered when she had done this to him earlier in the hall way, and how she'd held him on the couch, and the again in his room when he told them his secret.

"Misty?" He whispered, sleepily. "What are you doing to me?"

Misty had heard his moan and knew that this was probably the first time he'd ever felt like this before. She trickled her nails along the back of his jaw, knowing it would tickle him. His eyes closed again. He gave a small shutter of pleasure. Misty smiled, and ignored his question. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked innocently.

He moaned softly in response.

Misty knew that Ash was too young to be affected by this the way an older boy would be, but that didn't mean he wasn't affected at all. She was watching his face with a small smile. Ash was clearly enjoying the sensations coursing through him and didn't care if they confused him or not. They wouldn't last long, though. He would probably be asleep within minutes.

Ash, meanwhile, didn't ever want the sensations to stop. He felt her trace around his ear, then run along his jawbone and cheek again. He'd never felt anything so good in his short life. However, at the same time that he wanted it to last forever, the slight tickling sensation was so hypnotic that with every breath he took he felt himself sinking deeper towards a sleep he couldn't hope to fight off.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" Misty whispered.

"Uh huh." He breathed. Then, trying unsuccessfully to fight sleep, he whispered slowly, "Misty, why are you…" but he wasn't able to finish.

"Because I promised myself that I would always take care of you, Ash. I swore that I'll always be here for you, to make you feel better." She said, choosing her words carefully. Ash didn't stir as she traced a path along the tendons in his neck.

"That is… if you want me to take care of you…?" she said quietly.

"Misty?" He wasn't sure what he was saying, it was now a struggle to make his brain work enough to talk with the circles she was drawing behind his ear, "Don't ever leave me, okay?"

"Why?" She whispered back. She could see that he was almost completely gone, but he slurred out almost incomprehensible words in the quietest and slowest of whispers.

"I think I need you... You mean too much…." He had gotten softer with each word until he finally just stopped and his body relaxed and became quite still, the only movement being his even breathing.

"Ash?" She whispered.

"Hnn?" He breathed softly.

"You know you're a lot more to me than just my friend, right?"

Ash didn't answer.

"Do you feel that way too, Ash?"

"Uh-huh." He said, after a few seconds.

"Ash?" Misty whispered, "…Do you love me?"

Silence. Misty sighed, figuring he was finally asleep. She felt a tear drop from her face and onto Ash's.

Then, from Ash came a small "Uh-huh." As he finally crossed the thresh hold of deep sleep.

Misty knew he was too far asleep to know that he'd answered, he probably hadn't even processed what she'd asked. She knew that he was just agreeing without actually hearing her, but she still felt her heart soar for a moment, before settling down again. He had said it himself. He needed her. He was practically asleep when he said it, but doesn't that mean he didn't have the energy to fight or to make up excuses? That he couldn't help but be honest?

Either way, she had more confidence now. Maybe soon she would tell him how she felt when he was awake to hear it, to see his expression and ask him how he felt. Maybe tomorrow… maybe.

She sat by him for a little while longer, more for herself than for Ash, but she was tired. She hadn't slept for two days besides that small nap on the couch that afternoon, and that wasn't enough. Eventually sleep won the battle, and she got into bed, making a mental note to watch Ash closely tomorrow, and also to get Togepi back from Oak's laboratory, now that it was safe enough for the baby to play around. For the time being. She hoped she wouldn't have to take the baby back again before the 'big day' hit.

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The next morning when Ash woke, he noticed immediately that Misty was gone. He remembered her holding him last night, and strained to remember what had happened then. He had remembered they had been talking and that he had tried to open up to her, and that she had asked him some questions, but he couldn't remember what they were, nor anything else specific, so he figured nothing could have happened. If something HAD happened, he would KNOW. He was sure of it. It may have even been a dream, in which case he hadn't anything to worry about, anyway.

Then he remembered; the dream! The nightmare that he had had! He had to find out what really happened. He had to see it with his own eyes. He had to watch the TV later when the news was on. But for now, it was late in the morning and if he didn't get downstairs soon, they'd all be worried he'd relapsed, and he felt better now. That spell last night hadn't managed to hold its fever through the morning.

He went down to find Misty and Brock playing a game of cards. Togepi was jumping on the table with Pikachu, Misty must have spent her morning at the lab.

He got some breakfast, and as he started eating, he picked up a news paper and read the head lines. It was there, but there were no pictures, and he couldn't read the paper in front of his friends. He never had, and they'd notice the behavioral change. So he sighed and put the paper back.

Misty watched him and breathed a sigh. He didn't seem to be sick at all. That was sort of a relief. She had been worried about that after him getting sick like that last night.

Misty had, of course, told Brock about his dream and everything. She hadn't told him how she put him back to sleep or what he had said. Brock said that Ash would probably be most grateful if what happened last night wasn't mentioned.

Misty wanted to mention some of it, though. No the part with the dream, but the other things he had mumbled through his half-asleep state of being. She wanted to know if it was true. She wanted to know if he loved her back, but she knew that this wasn't the time to mention it.

"Got any Jacks?" Brock's voice came at her.

Misty checked her cards. "Go fish." She said, laughing. Brock had not been successful once during the whole game so far, and Misty's stacks were growing in number.

Ash poked his head into the living room and started laughing as Misty laid out another suit. He walked in with a soda can in one hand, and stood next to Misty, then said in a rather mocking voice, "Isn't it kind of hard to play that game with only two people? I mean, doesn't that make it obvious whose got what cards?"

Brock looked at Ash's grinning face, then at the empty table in front of him, then at the crowded area in front of Misty. "Shut up, Ash." He said sulkily.

Misty and Ash started laughing, but Brock suddenly got an idea. "Yeah, Ash! It's practically impossible to play with only two people! Why don't you join us?" He quickly whipped up all of the cards in front of Misty and began to shuffle the deck. Misty flared. "But I was winning!" She shouted. Ash was busting up next to her as Brock shuffled in an official manner, "What was that Misty? I seem to have gone temporarily deaf!"

Misty glared at him. "You are so going to pay for this." She promised him as Ash took a seat between them and Brock dealt out the cards.

Two hours later, the kids had tired of playing card games (all of which Brock lost, pathetically), and started to play with their Pokemon… until Deria came in and said that it was too crowded in the living room and someone was going to break some thing. It was still storming, so Deria wouldn't let Ash go out, for that was how he got sick in the first place, so they had to stay inside… bored.

Around two o'clock, Deria had to go to work. So the kids were going to be home alone till ten that night. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ash reminded himself that the evening news started at six. So he had to keep occupied until then. Not as easy as it sounds.

About a half an hour after Deria left, Brock was pacing around the room for no particular reason in general when he blurted out, "Hey, guys? Since we're stuck inside, want to play some other type of game? It'll at least pass the time…"

"Okay, Brock" said Misty.

Ash was instantly all smiles as he yelled out, "I'll get the games out!" and dashed over to the closet to get out almost all the games they had to choose from.

When he got to the closet, he paused for a moment in front of the door. Then Pikachu jumped on his head and he heard Misty and Brock laughing and telling him to hurry up, and his fear left him. He came back into the room a few moments later with a stack of boxes in his arms that towered over his head.

He made it about three steps into the room before they all came showering down on top of him. Half buried, he smiled gratefully as his friends came and pulled him out of the wreckage.

After deciding on a game, they played "Twister", with Pikachu and Togepi spinning the wheel, for while. Then the kids had a snack in the kitchen while Brock freaked over it because it was almost dinner time.

Ash choked out, "Almost dinner time! Geez! What time is it?"

Misty checked the clock in the hall. "Almost six." She answered, casually. "It doesn't seem that late, does it?"

"No." Said Ash, faintly, not really listening anymore. "No, it doesn't."

Telling his friends that he suddenly didn't feel to well and wanted to lay down, Ash went into the other room and turned on the TV to the news. Misty stayed in the kitchen to help Brock.

He had told his very confused Pikachu to leave him alone and play for a little while so he could take nap. Pikachu had seemed hesitant to leave Ash's side, but ran to play with Togepi, so Ash was alone in the room.

Sure enough, all over the screen were pictures and descriptions of what had happened to the young teens. Ash got down close to the screen and looked back toward the kitchen. He could hear his friends talking, and, deciding it was safe, took off his shirt. He ran his fingers over his faded scars on his arms, chest, and mid drift. Then looked at the TV. It made him sick to think about what he was looking at, but he took a deep breath, and looked over for certain marks that matched any in his own memory.

There were a lot of them. Ash felt tears running down his cheeks as he saw and heard marks identical to his own described in detail. He had turned down the volume so that it wouldn't be heard by anyone else.

He was crying quietly when Pikachu, who was playing hide and seek with Togepi, ran silently into the room. He hadn't been planning to disturb Ash at all, but stopped short at what he saw. He quietly slipped out of the room again, without gaining Ash's attention, and ran to get Misty.

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Misty was opening cans of spaghetti sauce when Pikachu jumped up onto the counter next to her. He stayed quiet, and was making a ton of frantic gestures. Misty just stared at his little dance, before Pikachu signaled for her to follow, and stay quiet. She did.

He lead her to the door frame in the living room and pointed to Ash, who was still crying and hadn't noticed them. Misty took in the scene.

Ash was in front of the TV, which was turned down low, and on the news. He was crying, had no shirt on, had his arms wrapped around his middle, his body tense, and his head bowed. Misty looked at the screen. The pictures flashing across it, then back at Ash, who was running his fingers along his scars and crying, and immediately understood what was happening.

"Oh God, Ash.." She whispered.

Ash jumped and looked at her in a panic. "Misty! What do want? I didn't…" She cut him off.

"It's okay, Ash. Brock's in the kitchen. Pikachu heard you crying and came to get me."

"I'm not crying." Said Ash as another tear ran down his cheek. He was in a position now, edging away from her until he bumped into the chair. He felt panicky and embarrassed with no idea how to explain what was happening. No excuses. He just sat there stammering.

Misty watched him back away, and his tears. She ran over to him and sat down. "Ash, shhhh. It's okay." She soothed, crying to calm him. Now Ash felt confused and unsure. And he really wished he had his shirt on….

Misty looked over at the TV.

"Watching the news?" She asked.

"Yeah." Ash whispered.

"It's terrible what happened to those two kids, getting beaten to death like that." She said in an offhand sort of way.

"It's almost what happened to me." He whispered back.

"Is it sort of like your nightmare last night?"

"Yeah." He had calmed now. Misty was acting so casual, not making fun of him or anything. That made him feel easier. "How they died. It was a lot like my dream last night."

"But the people you saw last night had no faces, right? So it was just a nightmare that came out of nowhere, right?" She said, hopefully.

"I don't know." He said.

There was a stretch of silence. Misty began to worry that Brock might walk in, but he seemed to be having another of his 'parental' instincts, because he didn't come. Then Ash broke the silence. "Misty?" He said, slowly, cautiously.

"Ash?" She said in the same mannerism.

"Remember last night, when I asked you if you thought my dad could have hurt anyone else?"

"Yes." She said, not trusting where this was headed.

Ash started tracing the faded scars along his sides. He was quiet. Then, without looking up at her or diverting his attention from the thin lines only he could make out any more, he whispered apprehensively, "Their marks are just like mine. JUST LIKE mine, Misty."

"Ash?"

"Misty, you really don't think he could have…?" Ash trailed off.

Misty looked back at the images on the screen again. She bit her lower lip and answered him, hoping it was true. "I don't think so, Ash."

Ash smiled a little and said, "Okay." Then crawled over to the TV to shut it off. The pictures were making him sick. How could they show that stuff on TV, anyhow? It was disgusting! Now the silence was even more awkward.

Yet again, Brock's amazing instincts seemed to detect this, for he chose that moment to call them for dinner. Ash got up with out a word and headed towards the kitchen. As he approached the door frame, however, Misty stopped him. "Ash?"

He turned and looked at her.

"I want you to promise me something, okay?"

Ash was quiet, then said, "Depends."

"Ash, promise me that you won't go near your dad this weekend, okay?"

Ash actually looked surprised. Why would she think he would go near his dad? How had she known…? But she was looking at him straight in the eyes now, he felt like she was reading his mind.

"Promise me, Ash."

Ash looked down to avoid her gaze, but she walked over to him and gently lifted his chin up.

"Please, Ash." She whispered, near tears herself. "Please promise me you won't go near him. I don't want to lose my best friend."

This broke Ash's heart more than she could imagine. He looked into her eyes, and made a vow. "I promise."

-------

When he turned in for bed early that night, Ash was so lost in thought he couldn't figure out what to do. He knew it still sounded ridiculous, but the marks….

'Those marks could be made by anyone, maybe.' He thought. 'And I can't break my promise to Misty. But it's going to be impossible to not get near him if he's living at my house for two days! And if it's true… I know she just doesn't want me near him alone, but how else can I ask? How can I ask anyway? Just walk up and say 'hey, dad, have you killed anyone lately?' Real smooth.

But I still know I could. It's risky, but if I could just get alone with him some how, and talk to him. he might slip something. If I can just get it on tape or something…. That's it! I need to tape it. I can set up a recorder, no problem. I'd just have to get him in the right room, alone… with me.'

He had started thinking about the possibilities if it, then reality crashed on him like a ton of bricks, as he pondered just exactly what he was considering. Getting alone, helpless, with the man who nearly beat him to death repeatedly for four years, and trying to probe a confession out of him when he probably didn't do anything in the first place. It was suicide. Just the thought of his dad being near him with a bunch of other people around petrified him. But alone…?

He started to understand why Misty had made him promise not to go near him. She had practically read his mind, knowing he would think about this, without ever bringing everything into focus. But he brought it into focus, and he knew it could damn well be the death of him to try a stupid stunt like that.

Ash was scared to death of his father, and his friends, pokemon, and worst of all, his father, knew it. But he felt a sense of duty as a human being.

His sense of responsibility and PRIDE stepped up to the plate and said that he had to grow up. Get over his fears and act like a man for once. Accept responsibility for his actions so long ago.

His FEAR quipped in again. He was scared! He had only been seven! Didn't that matter at all that he had only been, and still was, a little kid? How could he act like a man? Did looking for trouble, when trouble had always had an easy time of finding him, make him a man? And I promised Misty. His PRIDE voiced up again: How sad is that? Hiding behind your friends to avoid the work that you have to do. Pathetic. Besides, he can't kill you! You're his son! Everyone would know! Isn't that what Brock said, he didn't do it before because everyone would know?

FEAR: He wasn't used to killing back then. He could throw my body in a bush and be done with me easy, now!

PRIDE: Excuses! Just do it and get it over with. You could make the world a better place. You could avenge those kids.

FEAR: Why should I avenge them! I don't even know them!

PRIDE: any good person would.

FEAR: I am a good person! Misty said so!

PRIDE: do you remember why?

Memories flashed through his brain. Misty's voice rang in his ears. "That's right, Ash. You care about others more than you do yourself! You're completely unselfish. That's what makes you a good person!"

Ash's thoughts were quiet for a moment. Then,

FEAR: I know…. I know but-

PRIDE: But what, Ash? You're nothing without that, don't you know? Misty said it herself.

FEAR: But she made me promise! Why would she make me promise?

PRIDE: She's just scared for you, Ash. But this is something you have to do. you have to avenge them! You can't just let him get away with this! He's your father! You're responsibility!

FEAR: But I-I- I can't! it's too much! I can't! I have no reason to. It's not my fault, right?

Ash was drifting into a sleep as this argument played in his mind. Now he shut them off, scared of what they might lead him to do. in an argument between his FEAR and his sense of RESPONSIBILITY, he didn't know which was the stronger emotion, and he was, naturally, afraid that it might be his PRIDE. His pride had a big say in what responsibility wanted. He couldn't let anyone walk all over him!

Still…

In all his life, well almost, his pride had caused him nothing but trouble. Why should he listen to it? Fear is what kept people alive, right? Instinctive fear. That's how man has survived so long, by staying away from things they were afraid of, because they wouldn't fear something if it wasn't worth fearing.

Ash yawned and, after a few minutes, fell asleep.

----

It all happened very fast this time.

The green truck, the man eating a burger, the girl walking. The gags, the tree, the screams. The crying and begging of a young girl.

Yet there was nothing he could do.

The world was moving so fast, swirling color and sounds around Ash, who stood, horrified, watching it all.

There was nothing he could do.

It spun so fast, and loud, yet went on seemingly forever. Ash felt himself getting sick again, there was nothing he could do. It was like he was on a merry go round. The world spun one way and he spun another.

There was nothing he could do.

Suddenly, everything stopped. Ash was facing into the forest. He could hear the screams suddenly cease behind him, drowned out by his father's cold, deadly whisper, "If you ever tell anyone about this I swear that I'll kill you… but not before you see me kill them."

Ash froze. Tears ran freely as pure terror filtered through him. He was terrified to do it, but knew he had to. He slowly turned around and his vision seemed to zoom in on the dead, bloody, battered, yet no longer faceless body hanging from the tree.

It was Misty.

-----

Ash lurched awake and was standing up in a second, covered in sweat and tears. Anger surging from him. He understood now.

It didn't matter if he knew those kids or not!

If Misty had been the girl who was killed, and Brock, the boy, and he knew who killed them, would he sit here for a second, unsure of what to do?

Hell No! Father or no, he wouldn't rest until the killer was behind bars, getting his! There was no way he was going to sit by and let his dad get away with this! What about the friends of those kids? And their families! They could just as easily have been Ash! Plus, Ash was sure now, his dad had made him a promise. He had warned him, and he would keep it. Which means that when his dad did kill again, it easily could be Ash in the position of those families. Except Ash wasn't helpless. He could do something!

He had a choice as to weather or not he would let another person, perhaps Misty or Brock, become victims. And there was no chance in hell that he was going to sit idly by and let that happen. Nothing was worth it. Nothing was worth Misty. She meant more to Ash than life itself, and if defending her meant some sacrifices had to be made, if he had to put himself on the line, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He'd do it.

In that drastic moment of truth, in the war between PRIDE and FEAR… PRIDE won.

AN: Hi! Wow, it's been forever, ne? Years, even… and some of my fans have come back even after all this time to encourage me with reviews and e-mails. Nothing has inspired me more than you! Thank you so much!

I wrote this when I was sixteen, and I'm 22 now, so It's been a more-than-fair amount of time. I'm starting to get back into Pokemon. I drifted out for years, but I'm reading the fics again, and I miss writing for it. I'm not saying that you can expect another chapter of this up by Saturday or anything like that, but I am going to sit and plot out the rest of this story.

If I manage to get the rest of it plotted out, I will recommence writing this fic with the intention of finishing it. And I'm not going to cut it short or anything just to get it out of the way. I want it to be good, I want to be satisfied with it in the end, so the planning may take a few weeks. I had left this eternally incomplete, but recently I saw that someone wrote a sequel to this story (when it's not even finished) and it roused my curiosity. I hadn't read this in so long, I'd forgotten what it was about, and the plans are long gone (they didn't go past chapter 4 anyway. Most of this story wrote itself, somehow. It's almost scary how my fingers just knew how to move the right way when my mind didn't), but I would like to finish this story. I'm going to put it foremost in my plans right now.