Young Hearts

(Lovers and Best Friends)

She's sitting on the floor, the stones cold against her exposed skin and the pungent smell of rot and decay surrounding her. She's surrounded by four concrete walls, but in front of her is a door with a lock securely latched. Her body surges with adrenaline, as if only now reacting to the events that transpired just before she lost consciousness. Her cell mate is on the opposite side, slumped against the concrete wall. She tries to stand up, but a shock of pain shoots through her body and she stumbles to the floor.

"Ash," she whispers across the room.

He remains frozen and she calls his name one more time before she starts to fear the worst. Clenching her teeth through the pain, she hobbles to his side before dropping down in front of him.

"Ash," she calls as she places her hand on his shoulder, careful not to shake him too hard, lest he's as injured as she feels. She places her other hand on his wrist where there's a pulse. It's very faint, but at least it's there. "Please, wake up."

His body remains still, but then his slight grumble gives her the hope she needs to keep trying. "C'mon, Ash. Please. Open your eyes."

She can sense him slowly regaining consciousness, but his words are incoherent. His head lolls to one side and she emits a small gasp. His eyes flutter open and he tries to smile at her, but his lip is busted and there's a gash across his forehead surrounded by dried blood. She can't immediately see the full extent of his injuries, but from the way his breath grows shallow, she has a feeling he's broken a rib or two at the very least.

"Misty?" he says, but it comes out garbled and strained.

He's slightly more awake now and he tries to pull himself up, inhaling sharply at the mounting pain. Misty nods, not trusting her voice. And then, before she can overthink it, she leans forward and flings her arms around his neck before burying her face into his chest. He winces and she instantly goes to pull back, but then he places his arms around her torso before gripping as tight as he can, knotting his fingers into the soft cotton of her shirt.

They're sitting in the middle of a dingy jail cell, but she couldn't care less. After the events they've been through, she needs to feel something that isn't pain, and she has a feeling Ash does too.

They let time slip by as they hold tight to each other, finding comfort in the familiarity of the other's smell. For him, it's coconut mixed with flowers that he deeply inhales as he buries his face into her matted and untamed hair. For Misty, it's earth and a small trace of pikachu odor that is seemingly permanently stitched into his shoulder.

He loosens his grip as she tilts her head backward to meet his face. He scrunches his eyebrows and his eyes darken as he searches her face, likely trying to gauge her state of mind.

"Are you okay?" She stays silent, swallowing the lump in her throat that sits as a reminder of all she wants to say but can't. He leans his head back slightly and raises his hand before letting it hover in the air beside her cheek."Misty?"

"I thought you were dead," she whispers through a shaky breath. His face softens in understanding and he finally lets his hand rest on her cheek, his finger gliding forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I watched them capture you…I thought that was it."

"I know," he whispers in the space between them. "But it's just a few scratches," he says as he wiggles his arm. She knows he's trying to reassure her, but he does a poor job of hiding the pain that flashes across his face. "And I'm okay because of you."

Misty nods, but barely registers what he said. Emotion builds inside her and her hands start to shake as her breath grows sharper. Her mind replays the memories, forcing her to relive the trauma of the past twenty-four hours.

Electricity crackling around the Rocket Admin's fearsome pokemon before the bolt of lightning aimed at him suddenly shifts to its true target: her. She's frozen in place and he rushes forward before diving in front of her as the bolt makes contact with his chest. Ash, collapsing into a heap on the ground as electricity dances around admin glances her way before stepping forward to drag him away. Ash is curled up into a ball, still fighting to stay alive, to protect her, but he's no match for the admin's strength as he grabs Ash by the collar and throws him off the cliffside. She sees herself rushing to the edge of the cliff, screaming his name so loud her voice cracks and goes hoarse. That's when she turns on the admin, her fists clenched so tight around Gyarados's pokeball it nearly shatters.

The last thing she remembers is her fingers clasping the mega evolution stone hanging around her neck, but when her conscience pulls her back, the admin is lying unconscious on the ground, blood seeping through his clothes.

"Mist, breathe."

His voice comes crashing through her thoughts, pulling her back to reality. She's shaking even more violently than before and she's getting light-headed trying to keep up with the amount of oxygen her body craves. Misty's still gripping tight to him, and he has to surgically remove her hands from around his neck to lower them into the space between them. He doesn't let go, but instead presses their palms together before intertwining his fingers in the spaces between hers. His fingers are soft against her skin as he brushes his thumbs across the tops of her hands.

"Just breathe," he gently urges her once more.

When he notices the slight hitch in her breath, he tells her to look at him and he slowly walks her through inhaling and exhaling as if she's learning how to breathe for the first time. Slowly, her breathing returns to a normal rate and her hands grow still under his warmth. She sees the concern etched in his face and she wants to scream and yell at herself for being selfish. It's she who should be the strong one, not him.

Ash smiles down at her as he pulls his right hand free before resting on her lower back. His left arm then guides their still intertwined hands to hover in the air beside them. She looks up, shooting him an incredulous look. Instead of explaining, Ash purses his lips together and begins to hum a melody as he sways from side to side, pulling her along with him.

Her eyes widened in alarm. "What are you doing?"

His humming comes to a stop as he laughs, and it's the first time she's seen him smile in days. The image sends a warm tingling sensation through her body. "What does it look like I'm doing? We're dancing."

"Dancing? We're…I mean, you can barely move! And you…you want to dance?"

He winces through a smile. "With you? Yeah."

She can't help the explosion of laughter that seems to set her off, but it feels good. So damn good. They're practically on death's door, the boy she loves nearly dead, and here she is dancing without a care in the world. But the more she thinks about it, the more she wonders if maybe Ash is on to something.

Ash's gentle humming starts back up, and although she doesn't recognize the tune, something about it sounds heartbreakingly beautiful. Her head falls to his chest-gently this time-and she closes her eyes as she buries her head. Ash pulls her closer and even though she can sense their impending doom, she's never felt safer than where she stands now, wrapped tightly in his protective embrace.

She doesn't realize she's crying until she pulls away and sees the stains on his shirt.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, using her fingers to wipe away her tears. She knows it's silly with everything going on, but she can't help but feel embarrassed. It's not often that she cries and there's something shameful about seeming weak, especially in front of Ash.

"It's okay," he tells her, trying his best to console her.

His hands move back to her face as his thumb brushes away the few remaining tears. He gives her a half-felt smile before his eyes shift down toward his feet. When their eyes meet once more, he's now the one with tears threatening to spill over.

He stares at her, opening and closing his mouth as he struggles to form the words he so desperately wants to say. "You know I'll miss you, right?"

Misty stares back at him, not understanding what the hell he's talking about. Then, with the speed of a slowpoke, but the force of snorlax, realization hits her and her stomach drops.

He's given up.

She pushes away from him with more force than she intended, a fire in her eyes. She will not let him give up.

"No!" They may be teetering between life and death, but the last thing she will do is let Ash Ketchum give up before they've even tried. "No! You don't get to do this! You don't get to just give up and say goodbye! I won't let you."

As best it can, his face reflects sympathy as he tries to pull her back toward him. She pushes against him as she steps backward.

"Misty, please. Just listen," he begs her.

"No!

Misty bites the side of her cheek hard enough to draw blood. She winces slightly, but it's nothing compared to the other cuts and bruises on her body. Her chest heaves with each word as she fights to stop herself from lashing into him. "We haven't even tried and you're just giving up? I can't accept that. I won't accept that."

His eyes never leave hers. "I don't think we're going to make it out of this one, Mist…"

"How can you say that?" she shouts back. "You're Ash Ketchum! You don't just give up!"

He tries to hold back a chuckle, but it breaks through the tension between them. "I'm glad you think so highly of me, Mist, but I can't do everything."

Yes you can, she wants to tell him. He's always been unstoppable-utterly reckless, with unwavering confidence. It's what she'd relied on her whole life, a guarantee that even in the bleakest of situations, Ash would be the shining light of optimism. And even then, he'd come back from the brink of death several times before, so why was this any different? They just had to figure out a plan and then…and then…Tears pour out of her eyes and down her cheeks as her body starts shaking once more.

This isn't how it's supposed to end.

He steps forward once more and, this time, she lets him wrap them around her waist. A part of her still wants to fight back, but she's tired, and it's that overwhelming sense of exhaustion that persists. Perhaps it's her own body's way of telling her it's time to give up, to give in to the physical and emotional torment of the last twenty-four hours.

Before she lets her body give in, though, she takes Ash's lead. Threading her fingers through his, she tries her best to force out a smile as she continues where he left off and gingerly sways the two of them from side to side.

With her face pinched tight and her heart squeezed so tight it may burst, she whispers her own words of defeat into the space between them.

"I'm going to miss you, too, Ash."