"Stop calling this number, I don't know where he is!"

Delia Ketchum was a patient woman, but the Pokemon League was pushing her to the limit with their constant barrage of calls at phone calls. Pallet was a quiet little town and the inhabitants liked to stay away from the hectic of the world.

"Your son and his pokemon are very powerful. The Pokemon League does believe that the safety of the general public could not longer be guaranteed with Ash Ketchum being unchecked and unsupervised."

"My son isn't dangerous! Leave him alone!" Delia screamed into the phone, outraged by those unfounded accusations.

"Mrs. Ketchum please," the voice on the other side sounded desperate, "The pokemon in his care are monstrous and he's shown signs of mental instability! Should your son go off the deep end, there would be almost nobody who would even have a chance to stop him!"

The phone hit the receiver with force. Delia had heard enough.

"How did my little boy endure these people for three years?" she thought grimly, before the answer hit her.

He did until he broke.

Ash had never been an attentive kid when it came to family, but Delia should have noticed that something was wrong. The bi-weekly calls slowly turning monthly and yearly at its worst, the vague description of everything that involved him in his letters, and most of all his appearance every time she saw him on the news. Delia Ketchum prouded herself as a great judge of character, so why didn't she notice the change in her son?

The possible answer in her mind hurt more than anything. They had estranged from each other over the years. While Ash traveled the world, she stayed at home and lived her life without him. The times he'd been in Pallet felt more like visits than homecomings, only long enough to catch up a little before he set out again.

Further evidence was how she knew next to nothing of the circumstances that led to this outburst on his last match, even after a whole week had passed. She had only the same knowledge than any gossip prone stranger from the street and as his mother she considered this a failure on her part. The phone wasn't standing still in the Ketchum household since his vanishment, either flooded by incoming calls or occupied by her own desperate tries to somehow get a hold of her son. Serena had been the first to find out that his phone wasn't reachable anymore, replaced by a monotone computer voice telling her the number didn't exist.

The poor girl had been crying bitterly when she called Delia about that. She felt a certain responsibility for her childhood friend as his last known travel companion before his five year absence. Like in those years, nobody currently knew his whereabouts, with friends like Brock, Misty and even Gary going so far as to leave everything and search for him all over the region for the last few days.

Them, and many people with less noble intentions.

"Hello Pokemaniacs, Chad Thompson here and this is Pokenews International on Channel 6. Today we reach Day 8 of the Ketchum watch. Remember viewers, anyone who can provide our newsstation with a physical proof of Mr. Ketchum's whereabouts, is eligible for reward money up to 20.000 pokedollars in cash. Lets go boys and girls! Get the champion and get the dough!"

She turned off the tv with a disgusted face. Normally, she wouldn't tolerate this dreck, but a glimmer of hope made her turn on the station regularly for possible information. Anything about her son was welcome at this point.

*ding dong*

Except the amount of press he'd invoked on their doorstep. "I swear if this is another news team coming for an interview I will murder—"

Delia opened the door in anger, almost ripping it out of its hinges and saw no frightened reporters staring back at her. Looking down though, she found the yellow culprit pouting up at her.

"Pika."

It was Pikachu. Alone.

Shivers ran down Delia's spine. Professor Oak had said that Ash had only one Pokemon with him at all times. Him being here on his own, could have a multitude of reasons and most of them not good.

"Pikachu, where is Ash?"

A heavy weight lifted from her chest as Pikachu used his little paw to point down the road. There, as a little speck in the distance, came a large figure walking painstakingly slow towards her home. The small mouse looked at her pleadingly like it was begging her to do something, but she waited patiently at the opened door for him. A walk that should take a minute, stretched to several as he came closer.

Ash looked up from his feet as he stood right before her. "Hello… mother."

The joy of having her son back got overshadowed by a first good look at his face. She couldn't believe that bundle of nerves was her son. He was making himself small, taking off his hat and playing around with it.

"May I come in?" He said in a voice that sounded strange and without the usual cheerfulness.

"Of course… Ash, where have you…" Delia said, losing her train of thought through an unusual sight.

Her unruly and chaotic son wiped his shoes on the mat, carefully took them off, and neatly put them away in the designated compartment. Afterwards he took a cautious step from the entrance under her watchful eyes before speaking.

"I won't bother you for long, I swear. There's something from my old stuff that I need to get. It will only take a minute then I'm out of your hair again." Ash couldn't look at his mother the whole time he spoke and kept fidgeting nervously with the hat in his hands. "Alternatively, I could tell you what it is, if you don't want me stomping through your house."

Delia's eyes grew wide as saucers. Ash was legitimately asking if he was bothering her. She'd been right, he considered himself a stranger.

"Is my room still there?"

Her heart was close to shattering into a thousand pieces.

"Oh, Ash…" She cried and pulled him into a hug.

Her son stiffened under the sudden contact, his arms firmly pressed at his sides. Soon he loosened up, letting his head sink into her shoulder.

Then Delia heard the sound of sobbing.

Not the loud wails of a child coming home with scraped knees and busted lips. She wished it were that simple. These quiet, muffled sobs of defeat were so much more heart rending to listen to. Pikachu watched from afar with sad eyes, unsure if he should approach them in their tender moment.

Delia saw it though and waved him over to scoop up the little pokemon into a group hug with them.

"Can I stay here, Mom? Please… I don't know where to go... I have lots of money… I can pay rent… Or help around the house… Anything..."

"Shhh, it's alright…"

"No it's not!" Delia Ketchum strengthened her grip around her son as he started shaking. "I'm a horrible person! You should hate me! They all probably do and I deserve it! Who would want a friend that strips people out of his life like that? Who would want a son like that?"

"Ash Ketchum! Stop spouting nonsense!"

"But..."

"Don't talk back to your mother!" she flicked his forehead, "You were a wonderful child and you became a wonderful young man. Your heart is big and your soul is gentle, making people gravitate towards you and letting them find those qualities in themselves."

"Even if that were true," he said, getting a scolding glare from his mother. "It's been so long ago…"

"You are scared and confused. That is natural after what happened. Something you dreamed about all your life didn't turn out how you wanted it to be. I'm here for you, and so are your 'll be here soon enough when they find out where you are."

That was the truth. She knew one that was already coming to stay in Pallet Town, let alone the ones in search for him. Delia would call them as soon as possible.

"Are you hungry?" Delia asked.

Some of the old spark returned to his eyes. "What are you making?"

"Your favourite. Potato stew with extra greens and just a hint of bay leaf."

"You remembered…"

"Of course I do. I'm your mother. Now get clean young man and take Pikachu with you! You two stink like a Skuntank!"

Ash walked up the steps and came to a halt on the last one. "I love you mom."

Delia Ketchum had to stop herself from running up the stairs and giving her son another hug. The corners of his mouth barely moved upward instead of the blinding smile she remembered from him.

"I love you too, son. Never doubt that."

Ash nodded and entered the bathroom, Pikachu slipping in before the door closed. Rusty memory reared up in his mind to find the necessary toiletries to draw a bath. He sat on the edge of the tub and watched it fill up with steaming water. Pikachu was fighting with a bottle and emptied a lot more than necessary, resulting in man-high mountains of bubbly foam.

The small mouse dove headfirst into the tub and splashed the whole room with soapy water. Ash laughed and paused when the unfamiliar sound echoed from the tiles. He couldn't remember to have had anything to laugh about in recent memory.

The young man undressed and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He ignored the multitude of scars and blemishes along his body and honed in on his signature hairstyle. The unique cut had made him recognizable and marketable in the past.

A part of his past he wanted to leave behind.

"I need a haircut," he mumbled towards his reflection in the mirror before it vanished from fogging up with steam.

Ash slowly lowered himself into the hot water and sighed in relief. Pikachu took his favourite spot on Ash's lap and waited to be cleaned. The pokemon didn't have to wait long before a sponge rubbed along the back of his neck and he cooed contentedly before gnawing on a floating bath toy.

"I never apologized to you."

Pikachu stopped his fierce battle with the rubber psyduck and looked at Ash questioningly.

"You have earned this title as much as I did, and I quit without putting your opinion into consideration."

Pikachu thought about it. He loved battling other pokemon, the thrill of defeating your enemy with skill and power, but the eight shiny pieces of metal for the bigger piece of shiny metal never interested him much. It was more a bonus to make his trainer happy than anything, and when he didn't want them anymore, so be it.

"We haven't talked much since we left. Are you mad with me?"

The small critter shook his head vehemently. His Pikapi was completely wrong with that assumption. True, he hadn't talked or played with him much, but only because he thought that Ash didn't want to be bothered in his brooding. If Pikachu had known, he would have comforted him all the way home.

Two strong arms pulled themselves around Pikachu. "I'm glad you don't. We came a long way from being chased around by a wild flock spearrows, huh?"

Pikachu nodded, letting himself coddled like a stuffed toy. Such displays of affection weren't unusual between them. Ash had a deep emotional connection to all of his pokemon and wasn't embarrassed to show it openly.

"You're one of the best things that ever happened to me. I don't know where I would be without you by my side."

His chin rested gently on Pikachu's head.

"I love you, buddy."

...

*sniffle*

Ash picked Pikachu up and stared at his face in shock. "Was that a... Are you... crying?"

"Pi..." Pikachu said, trying to look away.

"You are! Oh my arceus, I moved you to tears!"

"Piikaaa…."

"Not in the bathtub! Not in the bathtub!"

"CHUUUUUUU!"