Just in case anyone needs reminding (after this insanely long delay- I seem a lot quicker at reading great fics than writing them), Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon or any characters or localities therein. I have, however, given full names to several characters. Don't like it, don't have to read it.
Onward at last!
Chapter Four: Into the Liars' Den
Neither Misty nor Brock had particularly fond memories of Saffron City. To begin with, their formative years had been spent with their families as the focus of their life (especially in Brock's case), and were therefore never fully comfortable in bustling metropolises.
Then there was the local Gym Leader, Sabrina, whose psychic prowess and chilling ruthlessness had caused almost anyone to shiver with one look at her. Not to mention that being shrunk, placed in a miniscule village, and almost vindictively squashed to death was an extremely traumatic experience. So, for that matter, was being used as a set of bowling pins. And to finally defeat her, Ash had dragged them all to Lavender Town, seeking a Ghost Pokemon somewhere in Pokemon Tower.
To be fair, of course, she did have a more innocent side, which Ash's incorrigible Haunter had managed to unlock. Yet even without that decent portion of her psyche, confronting her again- knowing that you were "only" dealing with someone standoffish, cold, and occasionally even malevolent- almost seemed safer than the mission they were undertaking now- for one, they were "dealing" with someone who was supposed to be a friend, and they had no idea what had happened to sway him or how to reverse it. That was it in a nutshell- they didn't know anything about what they were doing. Heck, in a situation like this, a ruthless Psychic mistress might not be a bad ally.
But one step at a time.
They had been amazed at their first sight of the Silph Enterprises tower, and its contrast to most of the older, blockier buildings around them; clichéd though the term "space age" was, it applied here perfectly. The structure seemed to be made almost entirely of some sort of white plastic, stretching hundreds of feet into the air, and topping off with a globe, the top half of which seemed, bizarrely, to be covered with mirror. The bottom hemisphere had SILPH printed on it in blue.
Now the travelers were too busy trying to filter through the countless others milling through the lobby to spare much attention for the décor. Ash never gave much thought to math, pondered Misty, let alone this level of business! The more I nose around this deal, the more it stinks….
"Pika pi!"
Both Misty and Brock whirled around at the familiar cry. Through a gap in the crowd, a Pikachu- no, they couldn't just think that generally, how could even a year of sorrow erase that peculiar brightness in the eyes and that lively scamper from the mind?- was scurrying towards them on all fours- and 20 or so feet away, the object of their quest was following.
As had so often happened before, Misty didn't know whether she wanted to hug or strangle him.
Yet Ash seemed normal enough now as he ran behind Pikachu; the almost robotic speaker from the televised press conference was absent. "Hey, Brock, Misty, guys!" he grinned as he and his Pokemon arrived. "Great to see you! I can't believe you've come all the way down here."
"Can it." Misty compromised with herself by planting her hands on her hips and giving Ash a piece of her mind (Brock was so far remaining silent, as he so often had before while he worked up the nerve to intervene- this time- however, he felt the redhead would speak better for both of them). "How could you do this to us? We thought you were dead! Even for you this is ridiculous!"
Surprisingly, Ash's smile did not falter at this outburst- perhaps living through so many of them had helped build a tolerance for them. "What can I say? I just… needed to go off and think for a while. People can do that, right? I mean, the Elite Four don't exactly spend a lot of time in public."
"Look… being solitary is one thing, but you can't just run off without any kind of warning!" Brock, agitated as he was, still managed to retain his usual calm.
"I can't go do anything without checking in first, then? Got to let you both know when I have to go use the bathroom?" Ash was still smiling, but it seemed a bit fixed. And something had hardened in his tone….
"Well, then don't bother with us if you don't want to," Misty rejoined, "but you owe it to a lot of other people to stay in touch, people who care about you- Professor Oak, Tracey, even Gary to some extent- dammit, Ash, are you so blockheaded that you've forgotten how much your mother worries about you? If you don't think about anything else, you owe her more respect than this!"
"You're one to talk about respect." Ash's smile had fully inverted itself now. "Following me around like a shadow, nagging me about that stupid bike, getting your kicks from insulting me… I shouldn't be surprised that you bring up Mom when you both try to keep me stuck under your thumbs!... And you're no better for letting them!" he suddenly snapped at Brock.
Pikachu looked almost mournful.
Brock, meanwhile, had finally reached the end of his tether. "Ash, I don't know what's gotten into you, but you really need to come back with us and get straightened out!"
It happened so quickly that they didn't notice it until a second after: Brock's wrist found itself clamped painfully in the boy's hand, and the two of them suddenly became aware of others clustering around them, three or four of them.
"Don't… ever… address me that way again," Ash responded quietly, the idealistic young trainer replaced by something darkened and implacable. "I have become far more than I ever could have tethered to the two of you."
His grip slackened, and Brock jerked his hand back out. The three of them- four, if you counted Pikachu- stood silently for a moment.
"Well, what's the trouble here?"
Misty and Brock whirled around; there stood the flamboyantly suited man from the press conference, the giant who apparently ran this show, his face as unreadable as a boulder. "You seem to be bothering my new public-relations head," he continued.
"What in the-"
Brock had the foresight to step in front of Misty before she could finish her outburst. "I'm Brock Fontaine- I used to be the Viridian City Gym Leader- and this is my friend Misty Warrick, one of the Cerulean Leaders. We-" he stopped short for a moment, contemplating Ash's averse reaction to their presence, and how he would react to a statement of their previous relationship- "encountered Ash on his journey, and when we saw him at your televised press conference, we decided to get acquainted again. Considering how you lauded him, it seemed reasonable enough."
For a family man who spends half his days lovesick, Misty thought, he can spin a good tale!
Ash himself just stared at Brock, a bit of his old confusion shining through.
"Ah… commendable," Giovanni replied, smiling. "One always needs to keep up with the new blood in any field, from Pokemon training to computers- though I'll admit I leave those to the people who really understand them, right, Doctor?" He glanced back at one of the others who had come up to them, a pale man with a lab coat and a dark goatee, who gave no visible response.
"Well…." Brock, his hastily improvised cover notwithstanding, was lost as to how to prolong this situation.
Giovanni solved that problem handily.
"Now that we've all gotten reacquainted, I'm certain you will not object to leaving us to our work."
Misty and Brock hesitated for a moment, and Giovanni's face hardened again.
"Lionel." He turned to a suited man with a dark crew cut. "Please escort these two out of my building and inform them that if they return without proper business I will have them arrested for trespassing. And 'proper business' is a very loose term."
Lionel Dwight stepped forward and grasped the two trainers by their arms, rather more roughly than they would have liked. A few other uniformed men clustered around them but deferred to their apparent superior.
"You need to learn to not interfere in processes that don't concern you," the tall guard (though not as tall as his employer) hissed to his "captives" as he herded them towards the lobby's doors, which slid open as they approached. The travelers found themselves propelled out, following by the doors sliding shut again.
"You need to learn to not split infinitives, jerk." Brock's patience had finally been exhausted, even if he didn't show it above a mutter.
Misty was steamed too, but somewhere in her mind, wheels were starting to turn.
"…Have you heard from May lately?"