Edited 2019-01-02
Locked Away, Chapter 4
Nearly two weeks had passed since Ash woke up. He spent at least two hours a day in physical therapy, two hours getting check-ups, constantly having to check if all of his vitals and organs were still strong. On a good day, he would be poked with a needle only twice a day. He also had a cat-scan and an MRI to check for any brain damage, and probably because the hospital wanted to rack up a good doctors bill, they sent him for x-rays. In the beginning he wasn't allowed to leave his room. Physical therapy would come to him and they would do routine, light exercises, mostly focusing on regaining the function of his legs and building muscle. Since Ash was no doctor, he had no idea how long it would take for such weakness to occur—but by now, he was guessing at most a year. What in the world happened to him to keep him out for that long? Unfortunately, no one would tell him. Not even the psycho therapist that visited Ash every evening just to 'talk'.
Even Misty, one of his best friends seemed to dodge the question, instead, she talked about 'safe' subjects, and Ash was starting to find it very intolerable and frustrating; more so now that the drugs were induced less and less.
His mind seemed to clear up, but the clearer it became, the foggier his memory was. It disturbed him, but he tried not to think too much about it. Right now, he was focused on getting better and healing so that he could visit his mom. Misty never specified which, but she said his mother was simply "taking care of urgent matters, but sends her regards". He wasn't sure that was the truth, but Misty had no reason to lie to him.
On good days, if he managed to get through physical therapy without passing out, he was allowed to go outside for a little while, so long as he had someone to monitor him. Typically, Misty was the one to push his wheelchair around, as he did not have enough strength in his legs to walk. Being outside made him feel human again, which was the second best feeling since being taken off the pain killers. While sometimes his everything hurt, he knew he was at least alive if he was in pain. Because his stomach was out of use for awhile, he was told by the doctors that he would need to keep an IV in his arm, rather than actual food. He was only allowed apple sauce, and pudding, and some soft fruit. At this rate, he was even starting to think Misty's cooking would be better than the soft food diet the hospital gave him.
Ash was improving, getting a little better everyday, but as he grew, so did his questions. Misty couldn't handle the questions, he could tell from the expression on her face. She would grow fidgety and awkward, and would excuse herself from the room for any given reason. Even his 'shrink' would get numbly quiet when Ash would ask questions about himself, and talk about his adventures. It seemed like everyone thought he was crazy!
Misty came less and less as the weeks came to a close, making an appearance at least once a day to check on him after physical therapy was over. Specifically when he was usually too tired to plague her with questions. They would then sit in an awkward silence. He wasn't allowed to watch television, read magazines, and the only thing he was given to busy himself were crossword puzzles and an old romance novel that Misty lent him.
He heard the doctors in the hallway more clearly when they spoke with her; often when they believed that Ash wasn't awake. How they mentioned that Ash was getting stronger everyday, and that they weren't sure how much longer they should put off the truth. The nurses begged the doctors to wait until they could reach Delia. His mother. Though, he questioned why that was becoming an issue.
Because of Ash's improvement, he was able to get that stupid, uncomfortable, itchy catheter removed, and with the help of a nurse, was able to get out of bed and walk to the bathroom to do his business—in his case, that was like an award winning movement. He could even lift his arms without becoming fatigued. Most recently, when morning came, the nurse provided him with green hospital scrubs to wear instead of an itchy gown, so the day was already looking up!
Look at every situation with a glimmer of joy. Isn't that what his mom always said?
Thinking about his mother, he turned over in his bed, and kicked his feet to the side, practicing raising his knees when the physical therapist was out. Honestly, he was obsessively bothered by the fact that his mother hadn't stopped in to visit yet. Sure, he didn't call very often, or visit much... but that didn't seem like a good reason to ignore Ash. For this reason, Ash needed to see someone, anyone that wouldn't treat him like he would shatter if they actually spoke to him about what happened. Ash knew something happened; now if someone could tell him what it was, instead of treating him like he was crazy. He would be eternally grateful. He muttered under his breath.
At one point, when Misty had excused herself to the washroom, he tried to use her phone to call his mother, but he couldn't even figure out how to turn on the slick black brick, let alone make a phone call. Instead, when she returned, he asked her to call, but his efforts were denied by her immediate departure there after. She dodged his requests, she ignored his questions, she treated him like he was crazy, and when she spoke to him; it was like he was a baby. By this point, he barely wanted her around if she was just going to bite her tongue at everything—but being alone didn't exactly sound appealing, either.
Since taking her phone the first time, he repeatedly asked her everyday, to the point that she started to deny bringing her phone because 'the battery' was dead. The worst thing, however, was that he could see her own look of frustration. He wasn't the only one who was upset by the hospital; she was as well, she just didn't show it as much as he did. For that, he was grateful. If she wasn't allowed to talk about what was going on, he at least appreciated the thought that she was as frustrated as he was.
Lucky for him, yesterday evening, he had been moved to the third floor, the physical therapy wing of the hospital, and had a room with a nice view of the outer gardens. More white walls, more blue curtains, but it was better than listening to screaming patients in the ICU at midnight, ripping him from a dead sleep. In celebration, Misty promised to bring lunch and got permission to bring him into the garden for an entire hour. He was friggin ecstatic.
Be positive about the little things... he reiterated to himself continuously as he practiced lifting the weights next to his bed to pass the time.
Down the hall, he knew that Misty had arrived, because of the heated discussion with his physical therapy team and shrink that echoed the hallway. Ash pursed his lips. It was the third time that week that Misty had gotten into a spat with the older gentle men; but from what he could recall, it was probably about the same thing as two days ago.
"Come clean and tell him because I can't handle this anymore!" She had screamed, her shrill voice bellowing through the ICU and silencing even the most traumatized patients.
The fights started after Ash decided he didn't want to talk with the 'therapist' anymore. The therapist would make comments about his memories being dreams, and since that was clearly impossible, Ash simply stopped talking; which resulted in staring contests between the young adult and the old man. Misty started fighting with him after Ash's last late afternoon session, in which the therapist tried to push whatever news onto Misty; to which she exploded. Ash laughed at that, he could only imagine the man's face at her rise in anger. Misty could be fierce and intimidating, if not by her appearance anymore, then by her voice alone. Ash was familiar with her rage, having it upon himself many times... only when he tried to recall specific events, he found it more and more difficult to do so.
Ending her spat with the therapist, Misty muttered as she turned the the corner into his room and stumbled upon something very peculiar. Ash, who had been entirely engrossed in his own thoughts only a few moments ago, was standing. On his own. He wore green hospital scrubs and a robe while attempting to walk from his bed to the window. Even though he seemed to brood on many, most occasions the last week, his mesmerized gaze of outside never faded. The cascading light that danced over the inner garden, the large water fountain that had been cleaned yesterday, and the gentle rays of the warm sun. She wondered for a brief moment if his body knew the truth far before his mind did. That he had been stuck in a tiny room for ten years, sleeping, longing to be outside. His skin had lost the dark tan that he had as a child, but he was no longer pasty—no longer transparent. Color radiated in his cheeks as he pulled the curtain aside to peek into the garden.
Fresh air was so close, he could almost open the window and tumble out, thoughtless of the results. Excited to breath in anything other than the smell of sterile hospital and latex.
Mesmerized herself, Misty paused at the door.
His shoulders, which had been lowered in defeat at the start, were raised like a champion's as his head bobbed to each pigey that flew by. He nodded to other patients who tottered around in their wheelchairs around the garden. Whether he knew it or not, he looked like a little kid seeing the world for the fist time. So, she thought that he must know, at some unconscious level, what happened to him.
She cleared her throat, effectively eliminating his grin.
Surprised, Ash nearly tumbled. Panicked and praying that it wasn't a nurse because the last time a nurse caught him standing on his own, he was scolded for half an hour. Misty rushed to his side to snatch him before he fell. Arms out stretched and having tossed her purse and basket to the side in preparation to catch him—but, he managed to steady himself on his own by gripping the window sill.
"I thought you were yelling at that shrink?" He grumbled, looking down at her. She had fallen into a lunged position in her belief that he would fall, and had to smack her lips awkwardly before standing upright.
Still wide eyed, she replied while dusting off her shirt; "I was, but now I'm not. I didn't expect to see you standing."
Offering only a grin in reply, he walked, albeit wobbly, from the window back to his bed, where he plopped down and threw his arms up as if screaming "success!" garnering a well earned scowl from the red-head.
"You could really hurt yourself doing that." She scolded but he simply adjusted his position on the bed and shrugged.
"If I don't practice, I won't get better." he retorted matter-of-fact with a raised eyebrow. He was clearly breathless, just from that short jot, but he tried not to show it. Misty gnawed on her cheek, wanting to persuade more that he was rushing the process, but instead, a thick blanket of silence slipped between the two of them. Previously, occasions of silence were met with thousands of Ash's questions, but as he thought he wouldn't get an answer, his champion shoulders drooped down in a sad way. Nevertheless, he forced himself to smile.
There it was again, that look. From his perch on the hospital bed, he could see the ticking of her brain as she watched him. Weighing the consequences of a decision that she had little control over. She looked frustrated, yet thoughtful, and Ash was sure if he had that many thoughts in his head, he would surely have a headache. She stood with her thumb and index finger under her chin and Ash could see that her hair was tied back with the help of bobby pins and a clip. Two pieces of red hair fell to frame her face, and once again, he thought that it made her look older. Her white skirt and light blue button up top and slip on shoes only added to the age. He cracked an earnest smile.
"You dress a lot girlier now than you used to." He commented. His words had a kick to them, yanking her out of her own mind and back into reality as she looked at him breathless.
Misty had forgotten how she was dressed, and completely disregarded the fact that she had tied her hair back in what she would call "the mother up-do" until he mentioned it. Unadulterated irritation formed in the appearance of a snarl on her face.
"Unfortunately," Misty paused, walking to the basket she discarded a few minutes ago. "When my sisters dropped clothes off for me, they dropped off their hand me downs. Apparently, I don't have a professional wardrobe." Misty groaned while rubbing her temples. Over the last week or so, she had grown accustom to talking about her sisters with Ash. That was one of the few topics that she could talk to him about without any awkwardness or worry about spilling the truth. He watched her with a grin of amusement, twisting his fingers in the sheets below, he was about to speak when she set the basket down beside him on the foot of the bed.
"We still on for that picnic?" She asked while watching the light poor into his eyes. All of his facial features beamed at the reminder of their planned activity, and he was stoked.
Giggling, Misty shook her head as she wheeled out his wheelchair from the corner of the room, and the light faded from his eyes, replaced with a stern pout.
"I can walk..." he tried, but Misty end that before it started with a firm head shake.
"No, no you cannot. You know the hospital would ring my neck if I let you leave this room without a wheelchair." She let out a sigh, but the sudden awareness that he would need to be pushed around in a wheelchair again made him weary.
"Look, I can just leave you the basket if you want to have a nurse take you later instead." her face scrunched up as she talked, but at the rejection, Ash chimed in quickly.
"No, we can go. Anything to get out of this room." he looked up at her with beady, brown eyes and knit his brows together. "I just hate relying on people to push me around."
"Well, you're unfortunately stuck with me until you feel better." her words stung slightly. Her callous tone reminding him once again that Misty was different in every way he could possibly remember. Even the way she carried herself was different. Surely there were a plethora of reasons; but he could never phantom that it was because Ash was still a stranger to her. He watched as she wedged the wheelchair to the side of his bed and put the breaks on.
"Do you need help-" He was up before she could finish, and had fallen happily into the seat of the uncomfortable locomotive. She raised an eyebrow and chuckled. At least her laugh was the same, he thought anxiously.
"...Did you bring your phone today?" He tried. Misty replied by plopping a wicker basket neatly onto his lap.
XOX
The outer garden of the Viridian City hospital was massive. Trails leading almost a mile around the facility though trees, flowers, and hills. At the back of the garden, the vast forest, which was fenced off as a well maintained portion of the Viridian Forest, was often used in helping to relax patients. The front of the garden was a mass of flowers surrounding a multitude of trimmed shrub and the large water fountain. Surrounded by several benches, this is where most people spent their time: the inner garden. Misty, however, wanted to show Ash something a little different—something that might jar his memory.
Demonstrating her amazing strength, she pushed Ash to the top of the northwest hill; the tallest hill in the garden at the start of the gated portion of the forest. A concrete bench sat at the top, but few ever bothered to travel there unless it was a jogging nurse or doctor on their free time. Most patients couldn't make it up the excruciating incline. Misty, a professional swimmer, could barely make it up the hill with an embarrassed, yet enthusiastic Ash. If she wasn't pushing the patient, she was sure the hill would be cake; but the extra weight was an extreme exercise routine all on its own.
She told herself that at least the way down would be easier.
Finally reaching the top, she rolled him beside the bench so that he wouldn't fall down and then let out a loud, weary sigh and collapsed on top of the bench facing upward at the sky. He whistled at her with an amused expression and gave her a thumbs up.
"Today, I learned that the hulk is secretly hiding in the body of a ginger female." Obviously not catching onto the degrading sarcasm laced in his voice after having been pushed up a hill, she pumped her fist in victory. Misty chuckled as she sat up, finally catching his embarrassed gaze and twisted fingers and shook her head.
"It's worth the view. I promise." She reiterated, watching most of the humiliation exit his features as she took the basket from his fingers and pulled out a blue blanket that she spread out over the concrete bench.
"Don't picnics usually go on the ground?" He half muttered the question, shooting Misty a shy glance.
She huffed in response, busy with straightening the blanket, "I know you're stronger than you were two weeks ago, but I'm not sure you could pull yourself off the ground without help, and I'm not much help."
It took a moment for her words to sink in, but when they did, he shifted uncomfortably. Since she took his hand that day two weeks ago, she never touched him. Not that he could remember much physical contact with the gym leader in the first place; it just seemed like she intentionally tried to avoid it more now... or at least it felt like that way.
"You just pushed dead weight up a slope like this," He gestured with his forearm to make the slope, causing her to laugh. "I think if I fell down, the last thing I would have to worry about is getting up." he paused to look at the grassy hill that lead back down to the main encampment of the garden. "Besides, if I got stuck, I could just roll down."
"Yeah, and put yourself into another-" Luckily, she caught herself, and slapped her hand over her mouth. He didn't seem to notice, however, occupied instead by the view she had mentioned before.
She was right, it was well worth the wait. He saw the entire hospital, even his room window, from the hill. But beyond that, he saw he entire city, or at least most of it. A mixture of smells of wild flowers and cotton penetrated his nostrils, and he closed his eyes. Taking in the scent, the wind whipped across his face and he eased up. His chest rose and fell as he inhaled deeply. No matter how much he tried to remember, the last time he felt this way was when he was a child. The rush of the open air, the smell of the flowers, the heat on his flesh from the sun.
"I missed this." He uttered breathlessly, much to Misty's amazement.
When his eyes opened, he was grinning at her as he went to stand up on his own. Misty offered her hand to help, but he was surprisingly able to stand without the assistance. She was impressed, most people took weeks to get to this point. After working the feeling back into his toes the first week, he was determined to walk all on his own by the end of the month. Yes, he was sore. Yes, he was always tired, but more importantly, he was stronger. He slipped onto the concrete bench and let out a sigh of relief.
Misty didn't miss a beat to start unloading the basket; "The nurse said so long as I didn't bring anything super heavy you could have something other than soft foods; so I brought a sandwich... and soft food. Just in case." she held out the neatly wrapped, thin bread sandwich, that had no cheese, no meat...and was actually just bread..
"err...Mist..." He mumbled shifting the 'sandwich' in his lap. "This is just bread..."
"Yeah, they said that anything else might be too rough on your stomach. But, you know, you could pretend there's delicious cheese and meat, and vegetables on there." She murmured while coughing gently. He raised his eyebrows at her.
"It's the thought that counts." He muttered gratefully while unwrapping the bread. The waft of fresh bread hit all of his senses, and his stomach growled tremendously. How long had it been since he ate real food? It felt like forever. He could hardly remember the last time anything smelled so good. He broke the bread as Misty revealed two juice boxes, a bottle of water, and her own vegetable sandwich.
"The nurse suggested bringing something homemade, but I'm not the best cook..." she grimaced while crossing one knee over the other, taking in the serene picture before her.
"I know." he answered quickly, tasting the delicious kick of baked perfection. His eyes lit up and he had to remind himself that he was only allowed small portions. His taste buds were alive with the vibrant after taste of cedar wood. This far surpassed the soft, tasteless food from the hospital.
He hadn't noticed right away, but she grew visibly uncomfortable at his comment. He knew, he kept saying. He knew that she was the gym leader before anyone told him. He knew that she trained water pokemon, he knew that she had three sisters before she told him, that she hated bug pokemon, and a multitude of other things that he simply couldn't have known. Though, when Misty brought it up to the therapist, he continuously told her that it was subconscious recognition. Misty couldn't argue, she might have mentioned those things during her visits.
When the silence blanketed over them, he watched her carefully with an overbearing sadness. The way her eyes drew to the ground, how her hair fell limp in its bun, and her lack of words were so unlike herself—as usual. Having been starving only moments ago, and excited for lunch all day, he suddenly felt quite repulsed and settled for looking into the distance apathetically.
The mute nature wasn't lost on Misty, but she didn't have a lot to say. Nothing that wasn't advised against—she wasn't allowed to talk about pokemon, or herself, or anything that would imply the shift in time. She could talk about her sisters again; but that didn't do much. And he had long since stopped telling her about his adventures for what ever reason. Everything she wanted to talk about surfaced from the single question: "What was the last thing you really remember?". Instead, she opted to pluck her peppers out of her sandwich, and allow frustration to take over again. She wasn't anything to Ash; so why had she agreed to help him in the first place?
Muttering endlessly about whatever was on her mind, Ash chuckled, catching her attention.
"What's so funny?" She questioned, ending the silence between them.
"You might look like a lady now, but you don't eat like a lady." He replied instantly, covering his mouth as he laughed and observed the pile of peppers she scooped off into the discarded wrapper. Her mouth twitched as a vein pulsed on her forehead. A tint of red rose to her cheeks, and upon seeing the oh-so-familiar reaction, he started to laugh harder.
For a moment, it felt normal. Like they were old friends, or at least acquaintances. Misty was already accustomed to being around him—at least sleeping him, so it was easier. But Ash-he claimed to have already known her for years. She was apart of his dream land...and she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that. A part of her was scared, believing Ash was crazy; yet, another part of her believed it was a defense mechanism. Catching her emotion, his laughter died down and was replaced by a wave of depression, followed by an exasperated sigh.
Just get through this visit she thought to herself, inhaling deeply. Then she could go back to her hotel room, read a few of her text books, and pretend like this never happened. Perhaps she could have succeeded had she not looked over at the sullen boy. His shoulders leaned forward, his lips turned downward in a permanent frown, and his eyes, oh his eyes, were like open gates into his own personal torment and hell. Yes, his body knew something was wrong, but his mind was...
She couldn't take it anymore.
"Do you want to talk about it? What you're going through?" She managed, only to watch his depression fade into irritation quickly.
"What I'm going through?" he scoffed. "I don't even know what exactly I'm going through." Ash licked his lips gently, gathering his thoughts. They all seemed so scattered, so confusing, but he felt like sharing none of them with Misty. At least, not this Misty.
Clucking her tongue awkwardly, she placed her sandwich into the basket, no longer hungry.
"Have you thought about it at all?" she inquired weakly.
"Of course. Everyday." he snapped, even though he didn't mean to be so irritable. Misty was different but at least she was around.
Misty wasn't entirely sure what to follow with, so she pursed her lips. "I know we're not..." close she thought, but neglected to add it in favor of his reality. "But you can talk to me."
"Talk to you?" he objected harshly, whipping his head around to look at her. She could finally see that his cheeks were no longer sunken in, replaced instead by a strong chin and fleshy cheeks.
"I've tried! You don't answer any of my questions and when you do they're so vague you might as well have not answered at all." He grumbled, watching her sea-green eyes for any indication of dishonestly.
There wasn't any.
"I'm..." not supposed to tell you anything, her eyes tore away from his, looking instead at the pumping water fountain at the bottom of the hill. "I'm trying." she mused, crossing her arms over her chest.
Ash lost it at that.
"Yeah, but why? You only show up after physical therapy when I'm too exhausted to ask you anything; you usually only stay for ten minutes at a time to tell me about your sisters, and only your sisters—which you hate talking about—and then you treat me like I'm going to break if the truth sucks!" He wasn't shouting; his voice didn't have the power behind it right now. In stead, his tone reflected desperation, confusion. Everything he said was true. Misty felt guilty, but she had to choke back her answers, too. It wasn't like this was easy for her—she hardly knew Ash, and yet here she was, sympathetic to his needs with no other reason behind them other than the guilt that she felt slightly responsible for his accident ten years ago.
She ran a trembling hand through her hair, messing up the pins as some fell lopsidedly to the side of her head; "I'm not supposed to.."
"To what? Treat me like a human? Talk to me without looking at the clock six times? If I'm crazy, just let me know. I mean, I can hear you fighting with my therapist, Misty..." His words flattened out at the end, having ran out of breath. "If it's that big of a deal to visit, then you don't have to." he murmured, uneasily folding his arms. It was so strange to say this to the girl beside him. There was a time when he knew he didn't have to. Misty would have been scolding him for being so reckless, but she would have been the first person to tell him what was going on, as well.
Feeling accused, she sighed in defeat. "The hospital asked me to stay."
If he thought that the truth would make him feel better, he was so very wrong. The sound of her confession hit him like a hammer to the chest, and he shook his head, muttering 'great' under his breath. He lurched forward, letting his elbows rest on his knees, and his hands cradle his head. Who even was this Misty? It wasn't his Misty, he knew that for sure. The only problem? He could barely remember his Misty.
His defeated reaction egged her on. "Well, what did you want to hear?" She half-yelled, startling him. This was the first time she raised her voice at him, but he gazed up at her, face scrunched.
"How about what's going on with me? Why am I in Viridian City? Why does it feel like memories are slipping away by the handfuls and I have to visit a therapist for three hours everyday who forces me to talk about the same thing everyday, and yet tells me nothing?" Half way through his aggressive tone turned into one of intense fear, wrapped with a shudder. "...where's my mom?" he added meekly, looking at the ground below his feet.
Unsure of what to do, she reached out her hand to stroke his back, but he immediately shrugged her hand off.
"Don't... don't touch me." he countered.
Letting her hand fall limp between them, she swallowed and cast her eyes to her feet while he pressed his hand against his forehead. "I'm not crazy, okay? I don't need to be babied."
"Ash, you aren't crazy." Misty reassured him, making a decision, "You're just...remembering things...wrong." she tried, sucking in as much air as she possibly could. Her heart raced behind her chest and she let her shoulders fall. She wished for a moment she had a doctor here to bail her out, to have an excuse to leave in some way; but she couldn't do that. He needed to know, whether it was 'right' for him or not.
"I'm not remembering things correctly?" He echoed, looking alarmed at her. "Be honest... Do you know me, like really know me?" He asked, sitting up with a pained expression.
Misty fidgeted, unsure of how to answer that question. No, she didn't. She had no idea who he was until after she brought him to the hospital; and she most definitely didn't share all of the memories that he brought up. It took her a moment, but she motioned her head side to side. If Ash had blinked, he would have missed it. A worried expression laced over her pale features, to which Ash sighed.
"Because I know you." He replied confidently, looking directly at her. His gaze startled her, so she shook her head once more, this time more self-assured.
"No, Ash, you think you know me. You dreamed me up probably because I was the-"
Ash shook his head smiling in disbelief.
"No, no, no." he cut her off. "You're a gym leader, you love water pokemon, you dream of going to Kalos someday. You hate peppers and carrots and bugs terrify you."
"That's not exactly..."
"You own a gyarados that knows flame thrower." He added, but Misty shrugged. These weren't exactly tie breakers, and quite frankly, he was scaring her. Catching her fear, he sighed, frustrated.
"Your parents walked out on you when you were six, your older sisters names are Daisy, Lily and Violet. You're the youngest. They used to be the gym leaders, but after they made you feel like a second-rate sister your entire life, you walked out telling them that you wouldn't return until you became a water-pokemon master. You were terrified of gyarados since you were a baby because you had accidentally crawled into one's mouth." he paused for air, her eyes returning to his chocolate colored ones. Her mouth fell ajar in disbelief.
"Your favorite pokemon is goldeen, psyduck irritates you, you're a compulsive maniac about romance, your favorite color is yellow and I know that the only reason your hair is a darker shade of red," She touched her hair at his comments, he continued. "Is because it's naturally orange and you hate being called carrot top." He gulped at the end of his rant, readying himself for the reaction that would knock him onto his ass, but it never came. She gawked at him instead, the fear replaced with amazement.
"Am I wrong?" He asked suddenly, once again, Misty could only reply with a head-shake. She was stunned from his knowledge, regardless of what the doctors said, it seemed like too much information for only his subconscious to hang onto. Initially, she though 'stalker', but he was in a coma for ten years, so that was out of the question. Since he awoke, he hadn't been allowed the use of computers, and no one in Viridian City knew her well enough to know her that well.
After she didn't reply, he took it as a sign of rejection, so he scoffed and rubbed his eyes in disbelief. For a moment, Misty thought that he would cry, but he never did.
"Listen, I'm sorry for bothering you so much." He sighed, and looked at his wheelchair. "Can you just do my one last favor and take me back to my room, or just to the doors and the nurse can take me the rest of the way." He asked shamefully.
She rocketed to her feet and extended her arms out at her sides for emphasis. "Do you remember the last thing that happened to you?"
Ash gazed up at her, eyes bloodshot. He blinked a few times, drawing a blank. Of course he knew, he told her the last thing that he remembered. He was in Kalos, he just won his last gym badge. He knit his eyebrows as she exhaled.
"Because I do." He shook his head slightly, unaware of what she meant as she continued. "On July 22, I fished you out of a river bank on route one outside of Pallet Town. You were cradling a nearly-exhaust pikachu, and I slapped you for your negligence. After that, you stole my bike." Drawing air into her lungs to finish before he could speak, she puffed up her chest.
"Almost an hour after I fished you out, I made my way towards Viridian City to find you and get my bike back. That's when I found you. Collapsed in the middle of the road, barely breathing, hunching over your pikachu with shocks of electricity still rising from your body."
Now, it was Ash's turn to struggle. He couldn't recall the memory. Well, he could recall a bit of it, but it mostly seem like a vague, distant past; but it seemed so accurate. The waver in her voice almost crushed him.
"I visit you, and I stay here because I'm the one that brought you here, Ash. I carried you the last two miles to Viridian City on my back. I brought you to this hospital and you've been here since then." She exhaled, heart breaking at his expression. "That's the last thing that happened to you. There wasn't a grand adventure; you've never been anywhere other than Kanto." As she sputtered the truth, tears formed in the corners of her eyes; sorry that she had to be the one to tell him this.
For a long moment, they didn't break eye contact, but they didn't speak, either. Ash's body shook as he inhaled deep, and exhaled, trying to wrap his head around her words. Ash knew that he wasn't lying about his dreams. They were real. At least to him... but Misty, her story seemed...it seemed so much more believable than a ten year old traveling six regions without aging, without worry of shelter, or food, or school. He let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding in, and looked down.
"How... how long ago was that?" he managed breathlessly.
"Ten years." She commented.
Seconds after the words fell from her mouth, Ash's whole body froze, and he feltl his mind spiraling away from him. He shuddered, telling himself it couldn't be true. It couldn't be... but it made perfect sense. His eyes were wide to the point that they could have fallen out, and he shook his head. Suddenly, he lurched backwards, standing quickly. Too quickly. Misty tried to calm him, but he was walking away from her, towards the forest lining.
"I don't believe that! What kind of game are you playing!?" He screamed in denial. His legs wobbled beneath him, but adrenaline pumped through his veins, giving him strength he hadn't before: sheer determination fueled his body.
"You're going to fall! Ash, stop!" She screamed, alerting a few nurse who were in the garden. Having a hard time following after him in the pencil skirt her sisters brought her, she tried to jog only catching up with him the moment his legs buckled.
Misty hadn't been fast enough, she couldn't catch him before he fell, but she was knelt down beside him only seconds after. He rolled over onto his back and looked up at her, writhing in pain from his stupid sprint, and in a few other places thanks to his rough landing. He didn't know what to say as she scooped his head into her lap and called after anyone available. Her voice traveled far, but Ash could feel the stinging salt at the corner of his eyes, and he covered his face with his forearm while she glanced over him in a panic to make sure nothing major was bleeding or broken.
What did he just hear? How could he believe this? He bit the inside of his cheek. How in the world was he asleep for ten years and never noticed? Mew, how dense was he? Six regions and he was still ten? How in the world did he ever think that was normal? He shuddered violently as her soft hands smoothed through his hair. He could hear the foot falls of hospital staff running up the hill when he tucked his eyes into the crook of his elbow and started to weep.
"I was there. In Kalos." He mumbled.
"Ash, that's impossible. You've been here." She tried stroking his hair in comfort, but he looked up at her with an intense glare.
"You're lying!" he shouted, trying to sit up, only to find that he couldn't. Fuck falling. "How do I know this isn't the fake world?" he whined, trying to control his tears, but they spilled out of him like rivers. Misty, too, had shed a few tears, but kept them at bay so that at least one of them wouldn't be blubbering to the help. No, she couldn't relate to the idea that he missed half of his life, but she could relate to the pain. So when he finally mustered enough strength to sit up, she snagged him quickly, wrapping both arms up and around his back, pulling him into a warm, much-needed, embrace.
"I wouldn't lie to you. Not about this." She said calmly, wrapping her hand up around the back of his neck, pressing his face to rest against her shoulder, where she whispered into his ear.
"I am so sorry this happened to you. But it will be okay, Ash. I promise." She whined into his collar until finally, his tears exploded and he wrapped his arms around her back, sobbing violently into her shoulder. She brushed her hand through his hair, trying to get him to calm down; but nothing eased his pain.
Nothing but time would.