Edited 2019-01-02
Locked Away, Chapter 6
A week following Ash's moment of weakness, he was doing a bit better.
A stronger, brighter Ash was sitting up in his hospital bed, lazily flipping through a global magazine. Now that he was aware of his situation, he was allowed to enjoy the simple pleasantries that other patients received. Unlike his first few weeks in the hospital, he had a television in his room, open windows, and new magazines to read every morning. Plus, after Misty's ban was lifted three days ago, she also brought him reading material. At first, it was very difficult to embrace all the different information, but Ash became like a sponge anyways, absorbing all of the information that he missed out on in the last ten years.
The first information he sought out was the division of the regions. Surprisingly, all of the regions he dreamed of existed. Alas, they were not as perfectly woven to his tales as he would have liked, but they existed, so he wasn't complaining. The biggest difference in regions, was that Kalos was called 'France', which was apparently because the region officially left the Pokemon League a few years ago, thereby, taking on a new name when they did. Even though Misty made a bit deal about it, Ash would always call it Kalos.
In his dreams, Ash believed that he was reliving the same year over and over. The technological advances in this world were vast and constantly changing, unlike his own. In his world, pokemon operated and functioned in everyday life-whereas, technology was the prime draw to this world. For example, the pokedex could swap the pokemon inside of a pokeball with a button, huge green phones and monitors had been replaced by small, black, handheld screens and there was no such thing as 'pika power'. In terms of battling, from what Ash could tell, pokemons' health was monitored on the side lines to demonstrate their effectiveness during battle, and villains actually had repercussions for their illegal activities. Pokemon theft was enough to send someone to prison for a minimum of ten years. Ash wasn't even sure that his dreamed up world had a prison, let alone a judge, jury and executioner.
Not to mention that he was still moderately uncomfortable calling the last ten years of life a 'dream world'. Ash sighed as the thought crossed his mind, flipping another page in the magazine. He was slowly growing accustom to it.
Filling his mind with the many differences between his world, and this one, allowed for his brain to recuperate. Being able to focus on improving himself was a great distraction from the overwhelming stress his mind was truly under. Busy hands meant a busy mind, which meant that Ash didn't need to think so much. About anything.
Playing on the television in the corner of his room was an article about Team Rocket he was barely listening to. The news anchor headlined all of Team Rocket's vandalism in the last eight years. While his Team Rocket, Jessie, James and Meowth, were goofballs who focused only on targeting pikachu and failed miserably at it, this world's Team Rocket was apparently a menace up until last year. Their leader, discovered to be Giovanni, the former Viridian City gym leader, was held accountable for their actions: assault and battery charges, theft, occasional murder, kidnapping—and the list rang on the longer the news anchor spoke. Frankly the news of prison and life sentences were a little over whelming for Ash, who up until three weeks ago, didn't know such a thing could exist. Even when officer Jenny caught a bad guy, it seemed like they just reappeared at any given opportunity, regardless. Ash scoffed at the idea as he clicked off the television.
The longer he was awake, the longer he realized that no matter which way he dressed it up, his dream world made less sense. Actions didn't have viable consequences. Everyone repeated the same, continuous tasks, and no matter what, everything worked out in the end. He never improved, and when someone finally did start to improve, his mind quickly replaced them with someone new and shiny.
The therapist, a spindly man named Sebastian, told Ash that was his way of coping. Anytime anyone would begin to mature, Ash's brain, which was still the embodiment of a ten year old boy, could not allow them to. So, he would replace them with a new counterpart, constantly starting from the bottom. Ash shifted and leaned back in his bed, pressing his head against his headboard and squeezing his eyes shut. Since Ash didn't know what it was like to win before he was comatose, he wasn't sure that he could win in his comatose dream land, thus, the never ending cycle of his dreams. Battle, compete, lose.
Ash shuddered, returning his attention to a magazine that an older, male doctor had given him with the image of a woman in front of it. The doctor mentioned something about being twenty, and other functions, but Ash wasn't really listening when he went off on his rant. He set it down on his lap before looking over at the clock that hung on the wall across from him, above the calendar that Misty bought.
It was 7:00am, and Ash was already up, reading news papers and articles and watching news headlines. If someone had asked him a few years ago—which they couldn't because he was in a coma—he rolled his eyes, they would have never suspected that Ash Ketchum was trying to learn via reading material. n fact, his mornings were nothing but reading until physical therapy stole him for a few hours, then he would go to lunch. After that, he would spend an hour with the hospital's therapist, and then return to physical therapy before being brought back to his room for the evening, where he would watch World Action News, and read more about this newer world. Ash was on a schedule, a mindless, comforting, regime.
On the flip side, Misty ran on her own time. Ash tapped his fingers against his wrist impatiently waiting to hear the familiar click of heels coming down the hallway. Sometimes she would arrive early, other times she would arrive later, by his standards. However, when the click of her heels suddenly echoed into his room, a relieved sigh escaped his mouth. It wasn't that he was scared she wouldn't come back after his incident... but maybe it was a little bit.
Lately when Misty would come to visit, she always brought something new and interesting for Ash. Yesterday, the second day since returning from her suspension, she showed Ash how her phone worked. It was the upgraded version of the pokegear from ten years ago that he remembered. She also showed him pictures of the Cerulean City gym, which was three times as spectacular as the one he imagined, and, as she proudly deflated his balloon, did not have a giant dewgong on the sign. Misty had that removed years ago.
Ash laughed when she stopped to chat with a few nurses at the station. During the first few weeks, she hated everyone in the staff, now, she seemed friendl with most of them. As she neared the door, Ash fumbled with some magazines and tugged on the short pony tail his hair was tied into. Maybe it was silly, but he wanted to look presentable in contrast to the always pristine Misty. Her appearance was one of the harder elements to adjust to in this new world. She always looked nice, even when she wasn't trying to. Long gone were the years of boyish clothes and messy hair, replaced with practical, yet stylish clothing. Ash didn't know if it was the heavy influence from her sisters that caused the change, or if that was just the way she grew up. Either way, he felt mediocre in her presence, especially when all he could wear were hospital gowns or scrubs, with no exceptions anywhere. He didn't own any clothing.
When Misty walked in that morning, wearing a pair of lightly flared bell bottom jeans and a yellow vest with a skin tight black undershirt and hair tied back into a careless pony tail; he knew that she had finally gotten that wardrobe upgrade she was complaining about.
"Good morning." He squeaked, holding the questionable magazine in his hands.
When she smiled at him, it made his heart hurt. Her eyes were bright, proud, he thought until she saw the magazine, and suddenly her entire face fell into a dark scowl upon seeing the half-naked lady sitting on the front cover of the magazine he was trying to look busy with. Ash was astonished when she approached him, unsure of why she was so angry all of a sudden, until she ripped the magazine out of his fingers with a snap.
"You don't need to look at that." She barked, tossing the filth into the trash bin as she rounded the corner around his bed. Ash laughed nervously, still having the innocence of a ten year old, he didn't understand the issue. Lucky for him, she recognized that.
"Which doctor gave you that shit?" Misty grumbled, but didn't expect an answer. Ash shrugged as she placed the extra coffee she had brought with her onto his bed-side table. She had one in her hand for herself when she sat down. Gingerly lapping one leg over the other, she rolled the wheeled chair beside Ash's bed, and snagged the remote for the television out of his hand in one smooth motion.
"They're hosting the Indigo League Championships today. Do you want to watch?" she offered, not making eye contact. Ash visibly flinched at the suggestion. He wasn't ready to see pokemon battles yet, something about them pulled at his heart and knocked the wind out of his chest at the same time. His entire world revolved around battling pokemon, only to find out that none of it actually happened.
"..Uh, no, actually. If that's okay." His weak voice caught her off balance and she spun to question him firmly.
"You sure?" She questioned, knowing well his love of battles from his previous talks about them. That was before he realized he was asleep for ten years, however. Eventually, Ash nodded bravely but grimaced uncomfortably.
Misty shrugged, "Alright." she said, beginning the channel flipping that would commence for the next couple of minutes.
While Misty busied herself with finding a program on the television, Ash decided to give coffee another chance. After all, it would be rude to reject the gift. Taking a short sip of the black juice, he scrunched his face and stuck out his tongue. The bitter taste left his hair standing on end, so he set it back on the table and smacked his lips in disgust while he watched Misty. She always brought him a complimentary java the last few days she came to visit, but he had no idea how she could stand the taste! Often time, she wound up drinking her own coffee, and then his; if he hadn't touched it, or if it hadn't gone cold, or really, she drank it regardless. A part of him thought that she bought two simply to justify the intake of extra morning coffee.
"Then how about Case n' Model?" The tone of her voice was almost giddy as she flipped to the show in question—Ash groaned.
"Anything else, please?" He muttered while rubbing his face. He didn't feel like watching a bunch of woman walk up and down a catwalk in different, strange and bizarre looking outfits again. That was yesterday's montage of hell. Today, Ash wanted some peace.
"Journey Stories?" She pressed her lips together in a line, flipping to the soap opera which revolved around the adventures of six trainers forced to travel together. Ash scrunched up his face as the title screen started and looked at the red-head pitifully.
"I think TV is a bad idea..." He groaned, leaning over to snatch the newest paper off of her lap.
Misty shrugged as she clicked the power button, returning her full attention to the warm beverage she had in her hands. Inhaling its dark roast, she sipped it gratuitously while Ash moshed through the headlines, scanning through everything like a computer. He read obituaries, girly articles, job wanted advertisements and even the Viridian City news articles and politics. A lot of politics he didn't understand, apparently there was a call to prevent the League from having so much power, but he only skimmed the article, not prepared to take on the heavy stuff. Instead, he flipped to the comic section, where his face took an unearthly glow. Misty watched as he cracked a small smile, and then finally belt out a laugh.
"Good ones today?" Misty asked while tipping her cup to him. He nodded sheepishly while setting the paper down beside his drink. Having finished hers already, she shot the cup into the trash bin across the room with amazing accuracy, and then snatched Ash's while bouncing her leg up and down. Jittery, or excited. Ash raised his eye brows at her.
Misty whipped her purse into her lap.
"Have you had breakfast yet?" she questioned with perfectly glossed lips. Ash chuckled slightly, watching her rummage through her purse of endless supplies. No matter what, she seemed to always have whatever she needed. Perhaps it was her purse, or perhaps, it was her willingness to be prepared for anything.
"Not yet," he finally answered, catching her eye as he motioned with his fingers to indicate that he was going to walk there. "But the nurse hasn't been by to walk with me to the cafeteria yet." He added sincerely.
Since his incident a week ago, he restarted his rigorous efforts to reclaim his lost balance. He almost had the ability to walk freely through his room. He didn't even need help to visit the wash room, which was wonderfully empowering. Just yesterday, the doctors finally approved his intake of normal food items, and there was talk going around that he might be able to transfer to a physical therapy facility so he could focus more of his time on healing rather than having hours of waiting periods between visits. Things were looking up, if only a little bit.
Misty's mouth twisted into a grin as she revealed a brown sack from her purse.
"Well, then, you got lucky!" She chirped as she opened the sack to reveal two carefully wrapped burritos the size of Ash's hand. He blinked at the food in wonder, and scratched his neck awkwardly. Sure, the doctor said that he could have normal food...but Ash wasn't sure this was exactly what he meant.
"Can...can I eat this?"
"It's just eggs, hash browns, cheese, and bacon wrapped in a perfect flower tortilla." She wafted the scent to him. "But...if you don't want it, I can take you to the cafeteria like you planned."
The smell of breakfast food taunted him with its perfect blend of flavors. His mouth salivated as he licked his lips. His stomach growled at him, recalling the horrible experience of yesterday's meals, and he greedily reached out and took the wrap from her fingers. Damn her and her temptations. Misty smiled proudly at him while she tore open the tin-foil wrap.
"It's from the shop down town, so, hopefully we don't get food poisoning." She mustered gleefully, her cheerful mood once again catching Ash's attention. He narrowed his eyes at her.
"Food poisoning? You didn't cook these, did you? Telling me it's from downtown as a disguise or something..." He mused painfully with a quirked eyebrow, examining the breakfast wrap. Misty glared at him, having already taken a bite of her own. She hated that he knew that she was a terrible cook when he was not supposed to know that about her. She tried not to glower.
"Watch your mouth." She warned him, getting a wide grin in response as he, too, cracked open the foil and started to munch down on the heavenly goodness that was everything delicious about breakfast wrapped into one perfect burrito. The first bite was slow, testing the flavors against his tongue before his stomach and mouth agreed promptly that this was not poison, and was, in fact, heaven on earth. The fastest way to his heart, he supposed, was directly through his stomach.
Misty had to stop herself form laughing while she shook her head. Watching him nearly devour the greasy meal with one bite, she thought that he might have simply swallowed the damn thing whole. The gym leader had a hard time believing that only a week ago, he was trying to starve himself back into a coma; now, she couldn't get him to stop eating. Everyday, Ash complained about being hungry, which was the primarily reason they removed his ban on solid foods. His body was burning too many calories during exercise when he was on soft food. So, they gave him the go-ahead to eat pretty well what ever he wanted again, so long as he did it in moderation. A healthy appetite meant that he was healing the remaining wounds, getting stronger every day. Misty could see that he had regained a large part of his strength in a little under a month.
While amazed, she had to admit that she was surprised. She didn't think that after the incident following the garden he would bounce back so quickly. Unfortunately, that childish gleam seemed to be forever gone-the innocent nature of his ignorance evaporated with the truth of his situation. As a result, he did look a little stronger.
After her suspension, Misty's first day back was spent in silence, waiting for Ash to speak, but he never managed too. She often thought that her demeanor was simply over powering, but he honestly seemed so ashamed of what he had done. Yesterday was a little better, he greeted her with a smile, they talked for awhile, but nothing spectacular. Unlike before, Misty also stuck around through the morning, and then would come back for the evening once his therapy sessions were over to see how his day went. A complete turn-around from how she was behaving before the garden incident. No different than Ash's turn-around. He was practically beaming now. A smile cracked over her lips.
Mouth full, Ash blinked at her when he noticed that she stopped eating in favor of staring at him.
"What?" he asked, the smallest bit of food falling out of his mouth. Her mouth twitched as a vein popped.
"Don't talk with your mouth full!" She yelled suddenly, a crack in her anger. Red-faced, Ash swallowed, nearly choked, and then looked down embarrassingly at her command. She flicked her wrist and then they ate in silence for a moment before he twisted his fingers up and around his food, sparing brief glances at her with beady, dull eyes.
"...You don't have to keep coming here, you know? I'm not going to do anything stupid." He offered awkwardly, glancing down at the floor. Misty, however, did not miss a beat.
"We're friends, aren't we?" She asked, looking up at him as she rested her food on the table and fished for her—his—coffee to take a sip. Her eyes were half covered from her bangs while she spoke, and Ash found that his throat was dry and his heart rate quickened at her comment.
"...I guess." He managed, only to watch her eyes flicker back to her disposable coffee cup.
"Then as your friend, I should visit." Pursing her lips she looked up at the ceiling with a slight, mischievous grin. "Besides, I have nothing better to do, anyways."
Ash scoffed, "You're a gym leader. I'm sure you have a lot to do."
Then a deep, frightening chuckle erupted from her throat as she replied.
"Yeah, but my sisters are there right now." She flipped her bangs out of her face, revealing to Ash the cascade earnings that glistened in the sunlight. "Besides, I haven't had a vacation in years, and I don't have a lot of real friends outside of the league—so, really, what better place to spend my time than at a hospital with some guy I barely know."
He smiled at that, grinning from ear to ear at her passive aggressive nature, before he could respond, however, she added thoughtfully:
"It's like being drunk at a bar, you don't know what you're doing there, but you're not drunk enough to leave." Ash's face fell as an eyebrow rose; completely confused. Noticing that the analogy went over his head, she waved him off.
"Sorry, you don't get that reference." She mumbled while touching her hair gently, Ash offered a weak smile—he understood at least the underlying principle. She was here because she wanted to be, not because she felt guilty—or, at least she was damn good at hiding it.
"Thank you." Was all that Ash could muster, grateful for her presence. Even though the older, adult Misty was so unlike his own that he imagined; this one was nice too, and even better, because she was real.
They finished up breakfast in silence. After Ash devoured his own breakfast, Misty offered the second half of hers, which he ate selfishly. He was a walking garbage disposal, she only hoped that he didn't make himself sick. Misty twisted back and forth in the seat, occupying her hands by tapping her nails against the plastic arm rest of the chair while racking her brain of a good time to bring up that subject. His mother.
"Did you hear that I'm supposed to switch facilities?" He mused, licking his fingers. Her face fell while she watched him.
Yeah, and he said I had bad manners. "I did hear that. The nurse at the station mentioned it when I came in. Are you excited?" She swiveled the chair to face him while kicking her ankle onto her knee and leaned her chin into the palm of her hand. In return, Ash sat backwards and rested his shoulders against the headboard once again.
"I am, but I don't know where they will send me... Do you think they'll send me to Pallet town?" He inquired, rubbing his hands against his blanket while he spoke. Misty twisted her lips and then smacked them together.
"No, there's an assisted living home just down the street from here. That's where you will most likely be transferred." Her callous remarks deflated him as he slouched forward and pouted. In turn, she rolled her eyes.
Ash scrunched up his face; "Isn't that where old people go...?" he murmured politely getting a nervous chuckle from Misty.
"It's for more than old people. Their physical therapy unit is for anyone who meets the requirements. People of all ages have to visit there for rehabilitation sometimes." Her polite and thoughtful tone brought Ash back to his eagerness. Glancing towards the window, he thought about the possibility of leaving the hospital, and gushed. Maybe he would even get to go outside on his own!
"Did they mention when the transfer could be?" He sighed bitter-sweet.
"The sooner the better." Misty replied automatically, and then looked at him with wide eyes.
He looked at her, puzzled. "Why?"
"Ehh.. well..." She rubbed the back of her neck and then intertwined her fingers over her knee. "Truthfully? The hospital is, well... they're going to start charging you soon if they can't..."
"Find my mom?" He finished the sentence for her and she inhaled sharply as his eyes glanced downward to his sheets in worry. While he should have been the one being charged in the first place; the hospital wanted to try spare the coma patient some of the liability. Unfortunately, it didn't seem that was going to be successful. The humor and glee that was once so dominate in the room faded. Misty, trying to repair the moment, cleared her throat.
"Which brings me to my next statement..." She muttered quickly. Fiddling with her phone uncomfortably, she rolled closer to Ash's bed by pushing the table out of the way. He gazed at the picture that she presented him—it was a picture of his mom dated three years ago. His heart pounded back in his chest as a smile crept over his features. Staring at the familiar auburn haired woman brought genuine happiness. He exhaled, and Misty clasped her hands together nervously.
"There is no death certificate." She added shortly after, causing his eyes to go wide.
"What?" he asked spiritless, shocked by her words.
"Well since there is no record of death that I could find, and obituary and death certificates are typically posted online, and there are none under her name.."
Ash's face brightened and he grinned up at her happily for the first time in days, truly believing that he was catching a break for once; "So, since neither were found, she must be okay?"
"I can't say for certain." she said honestly, bursting his bubble. "But most likely, yes."
"Yes!" Ash yelled, feeling a weight lift off of his shoulders, While he was a little concerned that was where Misty's mind when instinctively, the news didn't make him any less happy, despite its macabre nature. Ash threw his arms up into the air, as well as nearly throwing Misty's phone. She panicked, standing upright to jar the phone from his fingers before it flew from his excitement. Holding the expensive technology to her chest, she released a vehement sigh. However, Ash's excitement died as quickly as it started and his arms fell to his sides bitterly.
"...Then why isn't she here?"
Misty licked her lips, having already prepared for this question.
"Your recovery hasn't gone regional yet. That means it's only in the Viridian City news papers and television networks; so, if she lives in Pallet Town, that would make sense why she doesn't know. It's not like she was expecting you." she said effortlessly while offering the boy a weak smile.
Ash nodded and inhaled, trying to remain positive. "She's probably still at home then."
He looked at his fingers while Misty cocked her jaw to one side. His skin tone, while not tan, was no longer pale, and his cheeks retained a rosy color to them at all times. She felt bad for getting the boy's hopes up, but what's worse would be to tell him nothing at all. A little bit of hope wasn't a bad thing. Ash inhaled.
"I can't wait to get better. I'll travel to Pallet Town and surprise her." He whispered gently, catching Misty off guard. She blinked at him and then smiled softly.
"Yeah."
A part of him knew that Delia may no longer be in Pallet Town, but there was no reason to crush his dreams. No, he had to see with his own eyes, and until then, nothing was good enough. He simply had to get better as soon as possible. He had to figure everything out, understand why this happened to him. His face scrunched up in thought; though, Misty didn't seem to notice as she clicked mindlessly on her phone while he twisted his fingers into his bed sheets: a nervous habit. When he was better, he would find his mom; he would apologize for making her wait so long for his return, and they would all be a family again.
Catching his intense gaze, Misty ran her tongue along her teeth and raised her eyebrows, prepared to pose a question until Ash beat her to it.
"Misty," he started, breaking the pleating silence. "I know I'm not supposed to ask...well the therapist says that I'm not supposed to..." he mumbled off, casting his eyes to the white floors beneath them.
"...Do you think that maybe the other people that I dreamed about are real, too? Maybe..." he sputtered nervously, rubbing his fingers together as his breath hitched in his chest. Addressing his 'life' as a dream was still oddly painful and he exhaled to relieve the tension building. Misty shrugged in response, and then stood up, successfully startling him.
"I don't know, but it couldn't hurt to check, huh?" She patted his arm to indicate 'scoot over'. At first, he stared at her with dopey eyes, confused by the gesture. She nudged him once more, a bit harsher as he clued in with an 'o' shape forming on his lips.
Misty at beside him on the hospital bed, kicking her feet up while leaning her back against the headboard. It was the first time that Misty had really been in close proximity for Ash to see her carefully. Even though their shoulders rested the same place on the headboard, his feet nearly reached the end of the bed, and hers ended a few inches before his. Sweet! In this world, he was taller than her! Despite his happiness, he kept the thought to himself as she powered on her phone and typed in her password. Ash looked over her shoulder.
"What do you mean 'check'?" He inquired, eyebrows raised
"Research." she said matter of fact. "The same way I found out about your mother." At her response, Ash's eyebrows knit together. He didn't understand how cellphones worked, in his mind, and ten years ago, he supposed, they weren't different than the variation he remembered. Only, they were much smaller, and harnessed twice the amount of technology as they did ten years ago-and, they were technically a pokedex. Someday, he figured he would have one.
"Pokebook?" Ash asked while Misty nodded beside him, opening said application. Innocently, her upper arm brushed against his. Eyes gluing to the connection, Ash watched with intrigue. She didn't seem to notice, or even care, but Ash felt the warmth of her bare arm pressed against his and blinked. Physical closeness, that was a very strange phenomena. Nurses usually wore gloves when they helped him, and he'd be lying if he said their hands weren't usually painfully cold. Misty, however, was warm. Strange how little that mattered to him in his dream land.
Silently, Ash forced his attention back to the task at hand. On the cellphone screen, an image with Misty's face loaded onto one corner, with her contact information and name written beside the picture. Whatever the application was, he found it odd she would display her personal information. Before he could comment, however, Misty pressed a button and then raised the phone. For only a moment, he saw them staring back at him.
"What's that?" He asked, looking completely flabbergasted when the phone made a 'snap' of his bemused face, and her grinning one. Blinking once or twice, he quickly realized that his dopey appearance and her cheerful one was a permanent feature on her phone.
Misty had taken a picture of them.
With a few flicks, the picture went from the screen she had taken the picture on, to a framed one on the website she pulled up. Plastered to the title was "I'm having more fun than you" with her sisters names included into the description. Humming, she looked and sounded so proud of herself, stifling her laugh while it very slowly registered for Ash. His mouth dropped, evidently turning a deep scarlet.
"What was that!" He shrieked embarrassingly. He was never a vain person, but seeing himself-he wasn't used it. He barely looked like himself. Ash attempted to take the phone from her, but she had already fallen into a gleeful spit of laughter. She held the phone away from him, over the side of the bed, where he could not reach unless he tumbled over her.
"Misty!" he whined, squeezing his eyes shut as she spared him a wink and stuck her tongue out at him.
"I'm keeping it forever!" She laughed joyously while he pouted in response; though, as a grown adult, the pout had no affect on her. A glaring match, the winner: Misty. Her leer forced his arms down into a fold at his chest, and she grinned victoriously while resting the phone back into her lap while clicking the search button at the top of the page.
"Enough goofing around. Do you remember any names?" She asked, cutting to the chase, though Ash still huffed in retaliation to the picture.
"Brock Harrison." he muttered, figuring he might as well start with the person who he met right after Misty; and was supposedly his 'repressed sexual frustrations', in the words of his therapist. Her phone was lowered in frustration, and she glared harshly at him.
"Really? The Brock you dreamed of is a Harrison?" She quipped angrily, her coarse tone causing his confidence to deflate.
"...yeah...?" He muttered worriedly. Misty exhaled and wiggled her shoulders.
"Well, he exists. That's the Pewter City gym leader." She replied, turning her attention back to her phone to type his name into the search bar. Misty was fairly certain that he didn't have a Pokebook profile because most gym leaders tried to stay away from social media websites, but it was worth a shot.
"He never left Pewter City?" Ash's voice pitched carefully as his heart ran aflutter.
"Not that I know of, he was at the last Pokemon League assembly in June, so, unless he resigned in the last month; I doubt it." She gnawed on her nail, apparently disturbed by the train of events. Her phone vibrated in her hand, notifications ran rampant since she uploaded that picture of her and Ash. He, however, was none the wiser.
"That's strange. He hated being a gym leader." Ash murmured while tilting his head to the window, thoughtful of his old friend. Would Brock still be the same person? Or was that whole pokemon breeder thing as silly as it sounded? Ash turned a shade of red and covered his face with his palm.
"I never said he enjoyed it." Misty cracked. "The man has like a million brothers and sisters to take care of after his..." Misty mumbled off, and followed strongly with: "Even if he had dreams of his own—he had no way to pursue them."
Ash blinked at her response, "You seem to know a lot about him."
"He's a gym leader, I'm a gym leader. We have to know each other."
Ash blinked several times. They knew each other. That would make sense! The gym leaders weren't unified in his land even though they were implied to be. In his world, the gym leaders didn't know each other, but it would make sense that did, he figured. Ash gulped in excitement when he looked at her. He wanted to pursue the conversation, ask her about the other gym leaders, but he had more people to find with her help!
"What about Tracey Sketchit?" He asked, watching as Misty typed in the name, snickering to herself at the image that appeared. Even Misty was a sucker for good puns.
"Orange islands. Famous artist. Famous sketch artist." She showed Ash the page she was on, indicating his works that showed many different pokemon. His display picture echoed one of professionalism. A dark haired boy wearing a headband held a sketchbook under his arm, standing near a beautiful painting of a rare bird emitting a rainbow. Ash pointed objectively at the bird.
"I know that pokemon."
"I thought we were looking for people." Misty chimed in sarcastically.
Ash ignored her sarcasm, and replied eagerly; "What pokemon is that, Misty?"
"Do I look like a pokedex?" She grumbled and then took a closer look at the picture. "I don't know. Not all pokemon have been discovered, and besides, unless it's a water pokemon. I couldn't tell you anyways."
Ash withdrew, trying to recall from his own dreams what it was. Something about it was very familiar. He had seen it before. Several times. It had to mean something, but lately, he was finding it harder and harder to recall specific details from his dreams. Especially the more ambiguous stuff. Perhaps it was because he was trying too hard to learn about this new world, he was losing space for the old information. Yet, Ash narrowed his eyes, wracking his brain for the answer. Watching his face curl thoughtfully, Misty exited out of Tracey's page, and then clicked the search bar again.
"So that's two that exist, do I hear a third?" She muttered, pulling Ash from his thoughts.
"Uhm, May and Max; they're brother and sister, but I don't know their family name..." He paused. "Their parents were the Petalburg gym leaders from Hoenn, if that helps..." he watched as Misty switched screens on her phone, pulling up the page that had his mother's face on it briefly, and typed the information that Ash gave her into a engine at the top and submitted it. After a second, it came back positive.
"You're scarily specific." She mumbled, though Ash was impressed that she wasn't terrified of his notions. When he told her anything originally, she always had a look of terror wash over her face; now, she seemed to accept the idea that he wasn't exactly normal.
"So? Are they real?" He asked, trying to keep his eager tone at a neutral base. Misty tilted her head thoughtlessly.
"There is a May Maple from the Hoenn region." Ash looked over to see the screen, but she tilted it away from him before he could look.
"Before you answer, what does she look like?" She asked with a mischievous grin.
Ash sputtered, unimpressed and lowered his eyebrows. Fine, he would play this game with her. "Light brown hair, blue eyes and wore a red or green bandanna. First pokemon was a torchic.. Like you, she probably looks olde—different." Catching himself at the end there, he avoided the nasty glare from Misty who pursed her lips.
"Yeah, different." She mocked while scoffing and rolling her eyes. "but, you're right."
Turning the screen towards Ash, his face brightened. That was May! Grown up, hair a little shorter and without a bandanna, but it was May! She was real! She existed! He would have jumped had it not been for the fact that Misty was sitting on his blanket and he was still recovering. Misty didn't reflect the same excitement, her acceptance being replaced quickly with an expression of worry the more Ash's imaginary friends turned out to be real. She quickly typed Max's name in, using the same last name; only, he didn't have any profile on pokebook, but he did have a few articles written about him in the Hoenn region. She didn't bother to read them; she didn't care who he was, just that he existed.
She grimaced, though Ash didn't reflect the same feeling. In fact, he was on a roll, that bubbling, childish excitement rising through the cracks of his broken and torn world.
"What about Dawn Matthews?" He chimed excitedly, only to have unexpectedly hit a very sore spot for Misty. She nearly winced, but cracked her neck instead.
"She's real." Was all she offered, "Next." She grumbled and Ash deflated slightly.
Ash blinked, "How do you know?"
"How could I not know? Everyone knows Dawn." Misty grumbled, mashing through her list of known people to pull up Dawn's profile. She clicked it, and there, smiling back at him was Dawn's blue eyes and dark blue hair pulled up into a pony-tail while she wore a bright pink dress. All smiles.
"She's a top-coordinator in the Sinnoh area, like her mother before her." Misty muttered unhappily.
"You know her...?" He questioned her hostile repertoire as he watched her eyes shift as she scrolled through the blue-haired girl's pictures.
"Sort of. I have ran into her a few times because of the pokemon league."
"Doesn't sound like you two got along very well..." he grimaced sadly. Impressed at his deductive reasoning, she shrugged slightly.
"Coordinators and battlers sort of had a falling out a few years ago. I'm just a little bitter about it." She mumbled, exiting out of Dawn's pictures as her way of implying that she was both ready to move on, and didn't want any more questions asked. Ash could respect that, he was sure that when the time came, Misty would bring it up—and if she didn't, then that was fine, too.
"The next one would be Iris. She was from Unova."
"Unova... Do you have a last name?" Misty encouraged him, catching Ash off guard. He winked one eye and then crossed his arms.
"...No, but I have a hair color?"
"That doesn't help. There are too many Iris' to pick from." Misty held up her phone so that Ash could see the long list of over three thousand results. He could feel sweat drop and shifted uncomfortably.
"Well...is there another way?"
"Does it matter? The last five have been real, so we can only assume Iris is, as well." Misty muttered, albeit bitterly. Ash raised his eyebrows, feeling he was catching a nerve of hers, but decided against mentioning it.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you." He muttered helplessly glancing sideways at her. Misty sighed.
"Don't apologize, who is next?" While it was wonderful that Ash was right about all of these people being real. He was still neglecting a very important detail. Misty wasn't ready to burst his bubble, however, so she continued.
"Cilan, he was a connoisseur from Unova."
"...a what?" Misty blinked at him, and he blushed furiously.
"...someone who rates how well a trainer and a pokemon get along." he twiddled his fingers during his response and shifted his eyes away from her.
Misty fought the urge to snort at such a silly thing; but she supposed anything was technically possible. Other regions did have their own varying cultures.
"Alright, but that's not enough information to find him." She mused while tapping her long nails against the flat screen.
Ash lowered his shoulders, his excitement dying a little more.
"Then how about..." he snapped his finger. "Serena from Vaniville, Kalos region. She was a pokemon performer. We... were uh... supposed to be childhood friends." He suggested calmly, thought he wasn't sure if 'childhood' friends was something he made up in his dream world, or an event that had actually occurred.
Misty's eyebrows rose, and she then snorted uncouth, "Sure do have a lot of girls traveling with you in those dreams." She grinned teasingly as Ash's face turned a shade of pink and he pouted his lips.
"Wow, she's pretty." Misty commented, alerting Ash who was once again warded away by Misty's palm.
"Description?" She grinned, and Ash squeezed his eyes shut again in agony.
"Misty!" he whined, but exhaled. She was doing him a favor, he might as well play along. "Blonde, blue eyes, wears a hat; wore a lot of red?" He offered, causing Misty to shrug as she turned the phone to him.
"Close enough." She added, as the fan page devoted to Princess Serena became visible to Ash, who's eyes lit up. Staring back at him was an image of a Serena, but a much older one. Her hair was long again, braided, and on top of her head, she wore a tiara that matched her formal red dress as the profile picture of the fan page.
"What's a fan page?" Ash questioned and Misty's eyes bugged out.
"They're for famous people. Congratulations, you traveled with a famous person." Misty giggled, supplying him a very skeptical grin.
"Nice sarcasm." he pressed, though he knew the list wasn't done yet. "There are only two more. Bonnie and Clemont, they're siblings from Lumiose City. Clemont was an inventor."
"Alright, let's see what a good old search can do..." Misty pursed her lips as she tried the search engine instead of the social media account.
"Apparently, one of the head engineer's with Silph Co. is from there; a man named Clemont." She turned the article to Ash, who smiled at the glasses welding, jump-suit sporting, blonde haired inventor staring back at him.
"That's him." He said warmly while Misty clicked a few buttons and set her phone down.
"There you go, now we know that most of the people in your dreams were real people." She said confidently, watching Ash's dreamy gaze as he looked at his hands.
"Do you think I could meet up with them again?" He asked, awe-struck.
Misty slipped her legs off the side of the bed and shook her head. She always had to be the giver of bad news.
"You know they probably don't know you, right?" She asked as she slipped off the side of the bed, with her back to him. The click of her heels turned Ash's attention to her as his elated persona ended with a splash. He crossed his arms, and looked up at the ceiling while she stuffed her phone back into her purse.
Misty didn't recall anything from his dreams, so the rest of his 'friends' probably would not, either... So... why did it matter if he knew these people or not? They wouldn't know him. His shoulders fell, depression seeping in from every corner of his brain while he looked down pitifully at his sheets. Misty stood tall, shoulders broad as her fingers tapped against her waist.
"This is kind of scary, Ash." She confirmed finally, turning her head over her shoulder to look at him. He peered up at her with doe eyes and then looked away just as fast. He couldn't handle the expression of worry dancing across her face and so he exhaled. A chill run down his spine from the separation of heat provided by her body only moments ago.
"At least we know I didn't make everything up..." He mumbled halfheartedly, rubbing his arm where she previously leaned.
"I wonder what that means though? Seems pretty odd, doesn't it?" She reflected, looking out the window and into the garden as her heels tapped comfortingly on the floor while she paced.
"Should it? Mean something, I mean." he clarified, blinking up at her.
"I don't know." She laughed earnestly, shrugging her shoulders. "It's just weird is all."
"I'm weird." Ash mused pathetically, mostly joking—but it held a formation of truth.
"Well, maybe! But don't take my word for it. I'm not a doctor." She assured him, making eye contact with him from across the room. If she was worried about this revelation, she didn't show it, at least not to him. Her smile twisted over her lips, and he smiled back. Even if it meant something, it didn't mean something now. Ash first needed to focus on getting better, everything else would come after.
"Maybe I'm psychic?" he mused playfully, breaking the tension with a hammer. Misty slapped her forehead.
"Psychics don't exist, Ash." she groaned exasperatedly while he chuckled at his attempt to lighten the mood—happy that it had been successful.
Truthfully, Ash wasn't ready to delve into the deeper question behind how he managed to know all of these people in his convoluted world; no, he just wanted to take one step at a time. Otherwise, the pressure could crush him. Right now, he had to take little steps.
"I know." He laughed, but of course remembered Sabrina being psychic in his dream world.
"Do you want me to talk with your therapist about this?" Misty questioned while leaning up against the window sill, the warm sun on her back. Ash's eyes widened in retort and he shook his head profusely.
"No! It's okay. I have a session with him tonight and I'll bring it up then!" plus I don't want you to get banned from the hospital again. He added as an after thought, feeling his mouth twitch uncomfortably. If the transfer didn't go through, he was worried he would be stuck here by himself every day. While Misty could leave when ever she wanted, her appearance was always an enjoyable experience. It was nice to have a friend around when no one else seemed to care.
Misty frowned. "Stop staring at me. It's weird." She grumbled, causing Ash to nearly fall out of his bed from embarrassment—having not realized himself that he had been staring. After a brief moment of silence, Ash collected himself, and glanced back at this magazines and news papers.
"Misty..." he muttered as his soft gaze met her hard one, tilting her head as if asking 'What's up?'.
"Will you tell me about what I've missed the last ten years?" he gulped as she pushed off the wall and collapsed into the rolling chair beside his bed.
Concerned, she cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure that you're ready to learn about it?"
He inhaled; "Yeah, I think so." he then added; "All the papers you've given me... they tell me about what's going on now, but it doesn't tell me about what happened before..." He swallowed, staring into her sea-green eyes with desperation.
"You mentioned coordinators and battlers having a falling out, and the news talked earlier about Team Rocket and..."
"You want to know more?" She inquired, crossing her legs neatly. Ash nodded.
"Well," Misty tapped her nails against the arm rest thoughtfully as she smacked her lips, and shrugged, "Where do you want to start? I'm not some magical guru, there is a lot that I don't know, either."
Ash smiled at her reply.
"Then why don't we start with your gym, then? Tell me more about it." Misty glanced from him, to the clock, and then buckled down with a sigh.
"We don't have a lot of time before the nurses take you to physical therapy, but... I guess we can start." He followed Misty's gaze to the window as she started to talk about the Cerulean City gym. First, with the renovations that took place over the last few years, starting when she 'officially' took over.
Ash inhaled, listening haphazardly. His turmoil was hidden pretty well, he thought. He still had a million different questions, but none of them could be answered right away; and quite frankly, he wasn't sure that he wanted an answer right now. Especially not if the answer was anything like the revelation that he was in a coma for ten years. His world had already been shaken and then turned upside down, and while he was managing, he was only barely. He didn't think he could handle another bout of bad news.
Ash had to stay optimistic, and he couldn't let himself, or Misty, or the doctors who helped him, down. Simply knowing that the people he met in his dreams were real put his soul at ease enough for the day. Knowing his mom was alive, where he was beginning to have his doubts, was a weight lifted off of his shoulders. He glanced at Misty who had her nose turned up about an idea she was rambling on about. The fact that his dreams had a substantial amount of reality to them was something he could hold onto bravely.
For now, that was good enough. He needed to focus on healing, so that where ever the future brought him, he would be there standing on two feet, and not laying in a bed.
Author's note:
Edit: This was really the only chapter that I had to do some major editing to because it was SUPER wordy and a little all over the place. I don't know what was wrong with this chapter when I wrote it initially, but it was like reading a salad of word vomit.
This chapter, this fucking chapter, was difficult. I rewrote it three times, and I'm not doing it again. I wanted there to be a big reveal about if the other characters were real or not... but logically speaking, and since this world is supposed to be more 'realistic' than what Ash was 'living' in previously, I decided that it wouldn't be uncommon to just search peoples names on a search engine (google/facebook) to find out if said people Ash dreamed of were real or not. I mean, it's sort of anti-climatic, and by no means flawless representation, but if you look at Misty's character, she's not the type to skim over this. I mean, naturally, if you wanted to find someone; how would you do it? Personally, I would go to google/facebook right away and since most teenagers/young adults have profiles/contact information/etc online I think it's fairly easy to find people... Just saying. So again, yes, it's a little anti-climatic, but I stand by my decision to both make them exist (as directly opposed to traditional coma theory, in which none of them would exist) and easily accessible. I have my reasons which we won't go into in depth over for awhile, but, bare with me?
Again, thank you for all the wonderful reviews and I hope you all continue to enjoy the story. -toasts-