Locked Away

by N-I-N-T

Follows coma theory: Ash wakes up from a ten year coma to realize that all of his adventures were only a figment of his imagination; but he questions if they were more than that. Everything has changed in ten years, and he must put back all the shattered pieces while he embarks on a new journey to save the world and himself. Pokeshipping

24. Chapter 24: Revelation

(partially edited.2020.04.13)

Locked Away, Chapter 24

Before Ash thought of leaving for the next part of his journey, he took a page out of Misty's handbook of organization: he compiled a list of where his pokemon were found originally in his dream. Ash was not able to sleep the night after the fire because of the guilt and the heartbreak that weighed heavily on his shoulders. Distraught, he spent his time recollecting. Forty-three pokemon, not including tauros; many caught in different places—across the whole world.

He wrote sloppily on the lined paper, trying to recall the map Misty showed him when he was in the hospital. Unova was in the west, Hoenn was southwest, Kalos was northwest, Johto was west, Sinnoh was north. The banana-shaped continent housed Johto, Kanto and Sinnoh easily enough, but Unova and Hoenn were islands, and Kalos was on the same continent as Kanto, but it was...it was a really long walk. Ash drew squiggly lines on his home-made map to indicate the distance. He didn't have the money to purchase a map of his own, and as he was finding in this world.

Nothing was free. Everything was earned.

At this point Ash was aware of several things. Firstly, not all of his pokemon were still around, or would even be waiting for him. In the case of primeape, the pokemon had probably ran off years ago or been captured by someone else. To them, Ash was a dream, a part of their imagination—but he had to try at least. Secondly, he needed a license—if bulbasaur was caught, Ash would be using another one of Misty's pokeballs—which would be, by all terms, illegal. Very illegal.

Being thrown in jail and Misty never being able to obtain her title, illegal. He gulped. He needed to get his license from Gary—but in the meantime he could at least look for his pokemon, right?

Thirdly, Ash jot down the list of pokemon he captured in his dreams over the last ten years and wrote corresponding letters beside them—the ones he knew really well, and others that he wasn't sure would have stood the test of time. He heard once before that bug and flying type, especially of the aves variety, had short life expectancy—regardless, he would try to find them all. Beside their names, he tried to recall not only their places of meeting—but of greater importance as well; where he last used them in his dream, where they were and what they were doing.

Eleven in Kanto, six in Johto, five in Hoenn, five in Sinnoh, ten in Unova, four from Kalos.

From his slightly crumpled list, he steeled his heart and scratched the pen across one of the first pokemon listed. Squirtle. And then scratched off a name beneath that primeape.

Ash leaned back in his chair, looking over the list he created and felt a sharp shudder roll down his spine. This was too real; realizing that his pokemon knew him in this world—only to accept that they may not even be here anymore. He tucked his face into the palms of his hands and glanced over at the sleeping figures of togepi, pikachu and bulbasaur.

Bulbasaur was fine, but squirtle was not. Was it because Ash had sent squirtle away in his dreams that the pokemon was met with such a terrible fate? Or was it coincidence that the pokemon was that way that Ash found him? Were there links to his dreams that connected the idea?

Squirtle believed in Ash until his very last breath... but... he couldn't really be gone, could he? What stipulations were present in contrast to his dream and the real world?

Though Ash didn't have an answer now, he was sure that the more pokemon he found, the more likely he would have his answer. Right now, the majority of them don't believe in his existence. Now it came down to which pokemon would still be around and until he determined that, he had to be brave. Strong.

Resilient.

XOXs

Two weeks passed before Misty received news of the wildfire started on route eight. Though it was big news, or at least it should have been, reporters did not start to air the damage and information about the fire until they were already burnt out, and the smoke had turned white in the horizon. Misty felt a little disillusioned by the delivery of news broadcasts—most of it was weeks late when it was finally presented to the public—unless it directly cleared someone's name.

This was no different for Misty, who was still trying to wrap her head around the news of charizard's defeat reaching Regional newspapers. Not even two days after the event occurred, a non-existent town managed to produce a fabricated story about Misty, when they shouldn't have even had a way to reach the rest of the world.

And that didn't even begin to explain Bill's lab.

When Misty looked online for information of the late professor, there was none. The reports created years ago that speculated the area had been under fire by Team Rocket was erased from the internet as quickly as it had been from television sets. On top of that, no recent maps showed the small town in which she and Ash stayed. Maps older than five years showed the small town as a logging village—but the town vanished on new maps. Actually, finding a map that wasn't created in the last five years proved challenging—but luckily, Misty kept her map from her days traveling through Kanto. More curious than that, Misty couldn't find any recent information about Bill—just that he 'took a vacation' some years ago to some far away island to further his research.

Yeah, Misty believed that about as much as she believed in Ash remembering to call—which wasn't a lot.

In fact, she hadn't heard much from him after the letter he addressed to her from the Saffron City pokemon center. The letter in which he included he might have been liable for the forest fire and he might have almost gotten pikachu killed and that he might need a favor from her in regards to holding his pokemon if he runs out of room. Included with the letter were multiple drawings, and several scribbles where he had asked how she was doing, about the gym and her sisters. For awhile, she might have written a response, but then thought otherwise since there was no way Misty would be able to reply. She had no idea where Ash was right now.

Misty could only hope he was catching on that he should not flaunt that he might have started the forest fire. It was considered a national crisis and caused massive destruction to the ecosystem of the forest. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she recalled his crappy explanations when he made a mistake at the gym. Oh no, she worried she would be getting a phone call from a jail cell the next time she heard from him.

However, his request to hold his pokemon stirred her memory to speak with Gary—who admit that Ash had called him only a few days prior to ask the same question: how long until his license is ready?

Sure, Gary got a phone call, and Misty got a letter. Was she not good enough to warrant at least a phone call? She had stewed over the matter for days—but then again, the call to Gary was worth the effort—he was kept out of the loop as much as the rest of them. The soon-to-be main professor of the Kanto region didn't know anything about Bill, either.

"If my grandfather was still around, he could have told you." Was Gary's response to her questions, followed by a large apology, and several questions she didn't feel like answering.

Actually, Misty didn't feel like answering much of anything as of late. Since the record of her victory sounded around the region, reporters had flocked to the gym for several interviews—asking her tedious, repetitive questions.

For the first time in years she felt like a real gym leader, but that didn't mean she enjoyed the attention. Not all of it was positive, after all—if anything, it was only proving to ignite the fire under protestors who chanted "Why didn't you do it sooner" and "it's a publicity stunt". Because that was right—everyone by this point knew that Misty was aspiring to fill the available position in the Elite Four, the news media made sure of it.

Due to the news, several of her fellow gym leaders had reached out to speak with her—either from curiosity or general disbelief that she, twenty-two year old Misty Waterflower was applying for such a grown up job.

It was degrading, and insulting.

Frankly, the redhead was sick of it—but now that she was on the front of most newspapers—she knew better than to make an ass out of herself in public. Mean was out, sweet was in. It was all apart of her character—Gym Leader Misty. Though, sometimes, she would have enjoyed simply being Misty.

Thanks to one of those phone calls, she was no seated at the downtown cafe, located on east side Cerulean City. Her growing hair was tied back into an intentional messy bun, she wore nice clothes—dark blue skinny jeans, as well as her brown, knee-length boots she wore though the beginning of her stay at the hospital with Ash, and a pale-green sweater. Professional, yet comfortable was the description Daisy gave her. If the youngest Waterflower was going to be the attention of news papers all over the region, she needed to look the job—which meant athletic shorts and tank-tops were out.

The smell of coffee penetrated her nostrils as she took a lingering taste of the black java she had ordered only moments before sitting down. She busied herself with paperwork regarding the gym, filling out official documents while she sat with her feet tucked lightly beneath the wooden chair. The cafe was mostly empty around 10:00am on a weekend, but the regulars still sat around at the end of cafe, sipping frilly drinks, and playing video games. Non-trainers—exactly what Misty wanted to be around for this meeting.

"Sorry I'm late." A low voice pulled her from her thoughts and brought her sea green eyes to match the intruders. A man standing over six foot stared back at her, wearing a burnt orange shirt beneath a green sweater, and dark brown pants. His eyes were hidden behind shaggy brown hair, though behind the squint; she could barely see his iris.

"Hey, Brock." Misty mumbled in return as a faint smile graced her lips. She let the pen she had been scrawling with slip from her fingers as he took a seat across from her.

"How's it going little Waterflower?" Brock mused playfully while pointing at her mess of papers. "You've made quite the name for yourself over the last two weeks. Quite a bit different than I expected when I met you." Brock hummed while waving over the waitress to pour him a fresh cup of black coffee-which he quickly butchered by dropping in four packets of sugar.

Misty hummed to herself. "It wasn't intentional." She assured him with a faint smile.

Typically, she would have rejected his offer to get drinks—primarily because she was a very busy woman; but thanks to her confession during their visit to his gym in regards to Ash's dream—she figured that anything he wanted had less to do with her new found fame, and more to do with Ash.

She wasn't wrong.

Brock briefly looked around and puffed out his cheeks while tasting his coffee—deciding it was still to bitter, he dropped in more sugar. Much to Misty's dislike, her eyebrows twitched.

"So how's the boyfriend? Did you two break up already?" he muttered, watching the sugar dissolve into the dark liquid.

"He-he's not my..." Misty sputtered, face turning bright red as it did last time, which was followed by an intense sigh. "Ash is fine. He's out adventuring." she spoke with careful emphasis on adventure—it was more of a search than it was an adventure—but she wasn't ready to tell Brock that.

He caught her eye.

"What made you think I meant Ash?" Brock hummed with a mischievous smirk and Misty rivaled it with her own brooding one.

"That is what you assumed last time, as well." she justified her answer, and Brock seemed to accept it without complaint.

"So, he's adventuring, huh? Right after you battled and defeated that charizard—opening up route 24 and 25 for trainers and the love-birds going to Cerulean Cape?" He paused. "So I'm assuming the fire on route eight was from him, no?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Misty said naturally, though the forced smile across her lips only gave Brock a chuckle.

"Fair enough." He cleared his throat. "Anyways, business, right?"

Concern flashed across Misty's eyes as she licked her lips and nodded very slowly.

"What is there to say about you two?" He mumbled, reaching into his bag to holster out a brown file. "I couldn't stop thinking about how weird it was that-" he raised his fingers for indication "First, another gym leader would show up at my gym."

He stared at her, waiting for a reaction that indicated she was expecting more from him than visitation—a bribe, a threat—anything, really, but when her stoic nature remained and her shoulders gave a slow, confused shrug, he nodded.

"At first I thought you were trying to swindle a recommendation from me, and as you may know—we gym leaders don't really get along anymore—so I thought, hey, a bogus story would be most fitting to get another leader to sign up on your application—but then, I did some research." Brock paused for affect and dropped the folder onto the table in front of Misty, which was a reiteration of her battle statistics from the time she was a junior trainer at the age of ten, up until now.

"I asked myself why someone who was in the lead for the position, even without fellow leaders recommendation, would try to sell me a crazy story about a kid who wakes up from a coma and knows things."

Breath left Misty's chest as she touched the folders, glancing over the majority of the papers inside—she saw her name, her number, be battle tags—her win to lose rate based on skill and turned her look back up to Brock.

"And what did you decide?"

"That either he's crazy. You're crazy, or I'm crazy, because I believed it; and there is no way you need my recommendation at this point. Especially not after that detail in route twenty four—you're like a league superstar, you know that?" Brock leaned forward, placed his elbows on the table, intertwined his fingers, and rest his broad chin on top of them.

"I wouldn't call it that." Misty managed, choking on her words. Her cheeks were a little flushed, given the admiration of her comrades, though Brock had other ideas.

"But, I didn't think a recommendation would hurt—either, actually. It may be the last push you need to enter into the Elite Four."

"You can't bribe me." Misty snapped, her blush fading quickly and her nose turned up like a snarl. "What the hell do you want? Because I don't need to sit here and listen to you analyze my life like you know me."

"Well... first I wanted to ask you a couple of questions; it's not so much a bribe as it is an exchange of information. I give you something, you give me something—that's fair."

Misty's lips drew into a line and she sucked in her cheeks. "What do you want to know then?"

"It's no secret that gym leaders don't trust each other anymore after Giovanni. We don't know who is dirty, and who is clean. A lot of speculation formed around us saying that we were all working with him at some point—but the league couldn't arrest us all, could they?" Watching her drawn expression, he cleared his throat, trying desperately to keep his macho facade in front of her hostile glare.

"I wanted to know why you haven't accepted help from other gym leaders?"

"You just summarized it. If someone else was working alongside Giovanni and it gets out that they sponsored me to be an Elite Four member, that would only hurt my progress." She said flatly, never breaking eye contact—her gaze caused Brock to sweat.

"So, just to be clear... It's not because you were working with Giovanni?"

"What? No." She hissed. "How dare you even ask that."

Brock put his hands up defensively, relaxing with a gentle sigh at her reaction. "Good." he mumbled earnestly, though Misty's feathers had been rattled.

"Have you?" She asked defensively, scooting her chair backward. Brock shook his head.

"No; in fact, I—we'll get back to that later." He glanced over the people sitting around them, and with a much easier tone, he leaned in to look at her closely.

"I also wanted to know more about Ash's dream world; so I hope that observation didn't turn you off." he grumbled with a flashy smile, it only made Misty's stomach churn though.

"I'm not going to tell you anything unless you can tell me why." her eyebrows knit up, trying to recall that Brock was one of Ash's closest friends in his dream world.

The man before her meant a lot to Ash, and while the raven-haired boy hadn't been wrong about anyone yet, there was no telling what time had changed in terms of Brock's morality. An unspoken rule was that gym leaders didn't trust each other. Not since Giovanni drug their names through the dirt; too many assumptions were contrived about other gyms being influenced by Team Rocket. With or without Ash's opinions, the inherent distrust was no different between Brock and Misty. While Misty was able to put aside her differences when visiting with Ash, Brock's sudden interest in him concerned her.

And Brock could see that.

Brock's eyes reflected raw emotion for a moment and he looked away, unable to stay under her icy glare. He was sweating, uncomfortable—she made him uncomfortable. How in the world did she switch from being so relaxed and normal around Ash to this? A trained hostility. In the end, it was all just a mask—though he wondered which side of Misty was the facade, and which was the real one.

"I'll start by giving you this." Brock held out a slip to the redhead who took it from his fingers slowly before opening it.

"It's a recommendation from the Pewter City Gym that reflects my belief of your skills as a pokemon trainer." Her cold eyes stared across from him at the table, questioning his motives. He continued. "If you can tell me honestly everything that you learned about me and about my family from Ash—I'll sign it, and send it to the league."

Misty gnawed on her bottom lip. It was true—where the gym leaders should have bound together when Team Rocket came forward, they fell apart. League gatherings were void of emotion—they knew what they needed because they were all rivals, all scared of losing their jobs... and now this.

Misty set the letter down, and shook her head professionally—and Brock smirked.

"You know most people would jump all over a letter like that—I heard Sabrina and Lt. Surge were really interested in becoming Elite Four members after your recent media success..." he tried, but his pressure only set to make the redhead cock her jaw and appear angrier.

"I don't need your bribe." She repeated her earlier sentiments hotly, and instead of matching her anger, Brock nodded smoothly.

"See," he said, pointing at her. "That's the reason why I'm here." he said calmly and hunched over the table to whisper.

"Have you ever met someone that you looked at and you thought "hey, that person could make a difference?" He asked with eyebrows raised. Misty's shoulders lowered.

"...No." she lied, and then guilty she thought of Ash and rolled her eyes. "Yes." She corrected.

Brock grinned. "That's why. I met Ash, and while I don't know anything about him really, I felt it. Something about him made sense." he sat back and gestured to himself. "And see, you two came to me. For whatever reason; asking if I remembered anything—even brought up my father..." He glared at Misty. "And I needed to know what you know about him."

Misty tilted her head to one side, trying to recall the information about Flint Harrison, the previous gym leader of Pewter City. She bit down onto the inside of her cheek, looked around the room, and then shrugged.

"According to Ash, he was a good man. I, personally, don't know a lot about him. There were some...rumors about him before his passing, but I don't think they were true."

"They weren't," Brock said immediately.

Misty pinched the bridge of her nose.

"What's your point?" She grunted, pushing the letter back at him, sliding it across the table. "Why do you want to ask me? You can easily wait for Ash like the rest of us—he never really talked about you until recently and what he did mention I don't really remember. I can't help you with whatever it is you need help with." She grunted while gliding her tongue over her teeth.

"But you can." Brock ensured her, once against intertwining his fingers under the table.

A short pause fell between the two, Misty's green eyes on his onyx colored ones battled.

"My father was murdered," Brock said flatly, so quietly that Misty's back straightened at the suddenness of his words.

"...What?" She hissed, glancing to the barista—perhaps Brock really was crazy? While Misty was known as the mean gym leader, Brock was known as the most-likely-to-be-homicidal. He was strict, overly so with his trainers, and aside from the time he blatantly hit on her, he was known as a hard-ass.

"If Ash can tell me anything about my father then..." He looked away from her, and hit a pang of sympathy in Misty's heart. She relaxed once more.

"It doesn't work like that." She opened up, sighing. "They weren't fortune telling dreams, or anything like that. Most of it was imaginary scenarios; the only accurate substance of the dreams were his..." She trailed off, "pokemon, and us."

Brock's shoulders fell pathetically, his hopes crushed as he shook his head.

"They were, huh?" he inhaled. "Sorry for taking up your time then." with that, his long brown bangs covered his eyes and he was rising to his feet when Misty held up her arm.

"Wait." Misty sighed, while rubbing her face with her hand. "Who did it?" she asked quickly—though she had no idea why. This wasn't something she wanted to get mixed with. Brock straightened his vest.

"They said it was an incurable disease." Misty nodded as Brock recited it.

"But..." he grunted shifting his eyes to see the looks they were gathering—two gym leaders sitting in one place. They weren't friendly stares. "I don't want to tell you here."

She was on her feet a second later, and pointed to the door.

"You can come back to the gym with me, and we'll talk there."

"Why do you care?" Brock scoffed automatically, amazed at her disposition. Misty let out a frustrated sigh.

"I..." She flinched, thinking of Ash; namely what Brock meant to him. Ash trusted him; and the boy hadn't been wrong about her... She blushed. "I don't. I mean. I do." She sighed, flustered.

"It's just that this isn't something I necessarily want to get involved with—but if it's a step in the right direction to fixing the crater that was formed between the gym leaders after Giovanni, then it's something I'm at least willing to listen to..." She hummed.

Brock smirked at this. "So, you have a heart after all?"

"You know I don't know where those rumors even started?" She hissed quickly, rolling her eyes and managing a chuckle from Brock who stuffed the letter at the table back into his pocket and gave a wide grin.

"Alright, we'll talk."

He grinned inwardly as she led him out of the cafe confidently, ignoring the glares she received like a champion. For a moment, he figured he saw what Ash probably saw—a warrior with a heart of gold. Brock smiled. Perhaps she wasn't so bad after all.

XOXs

At the end of the day, Misty sat on the edge of her bed, eyes wide, hair down and staring painfully at her hands. Her shoulders rocked up and down while she thought about her visit with Brock.

The two gym leaders had talked about the feuding gyms; the disinterest that the league had in rectifying the damage created by Giovanni, how gym leaders were used as scapegoats for actual regional problems—how they took the brunt of the media like meat shields, but the Elite Four and the champions—the people with the real power, were constantly praised.

The topic of news were discussed—namely, that the news was filtered; playing in the hand of the champions and in favor of the league, but never speaking out about the brutality of situations unless they can be immediately beneficial to the league in question. This was true for Misty, whose defeat of the charizard on Route Twenty Four spread like wildfire—whereas the devastating news about a real wildfire was left mostly in the dark. Media focused more on celebrities, new inventions and battles than they did writing that those people who were famous a year ago were now missing.

Famous trainers who competed in leagues, who made names for themselves were gone suddenly, almost like they didn't exist. But the gym leaders knew them, watched them grow— battled them. Normal citizens wouldn't know the difference, but the gym leaders did. They felt the damage; whether by overly zealous coordinators who blamed battlers for missing Top Coordinators, or from beginning trainers who claimed that their 'friends' were missing because gym leaders didn't offer help anymore.

Rates of battle were down at their lowest; new battlers only coming in every couple of days, as opposed to the six or seven from ten years ago.

They discussed the issues of the Elite Four; Misty admitted that her primary interest in joining them was to rectify some of the poor decisions that have been made up until this point. Brock considered it, but didn't think he had the gumption—or the ability-because the moment they checked into his family history, they would deny him without a second though.

"Why?" Misty had asked him, but was met with pure silence.

"Team Rocket poisoned my father." That was the kicker, that was the problem. Misty didn't want to believe him.

Her blood ran cold. "Do you have proof?"

He had grown quiet, swishing his mug of tea around and sighing. "My father took a loan from Giovanni when he was still the gym leader. By some accident, he was pressed into Team Rocket's business. He tried to run away from it—expose the Viridian City Gym leader—but when he tried...well, it's obvious, isn't it?" They killed him, he wanted to say, Misty could see it over his face.

Misty's face paled. "How do you know this?"

"I wasn't supposed to... and I didn't, not for a long time. He was sick for a very long time—slipping in and out of consciousness. He spent a good portion of my teenage years in a coma, like Ash." Brock had told her, pointing directly at her and inhaling."I found my father's receipt book and journal. The only proof of the incident—but after everything that happened...I didn't think coming forward was safe."

Misty's face scrunched up; "What do you mean?"

Seriously, he looked at her. "Well, it's like you, with charizard. How did the media get that information? Why was the news about Ash waking up never national, but someone defeating charizard was? Why do we focus on celebrity affairs instead of the missing pokemon trainers at our back door? Why are gym leaders accused as being monsters—when we haven't even been to public meetings in years? Why hasn't the league stepped in to fix the drama between coordinators and battlers? Repair the constant damage happening to our political system and trainers?"

"And why, when my father went from being healthy one day to dying the next—unlike Ash's story, which was a freak accident—was my father left unknown until the day he died? Up until that point, the only news was that I took over as Pewter City gym leader. Not that the leader before me was sick, or anything about him." He paused.

"I think this—everything, the league, the executives, the masters, other gym leaders, maybe—everything, is dirty."

Misty snorted in disbelief. "Aren't you being a little paranoid?"

"But it makes sense, doesn't it?"

Sitting now on her bed, holding the written recommendation from the Pewter City gym, Misty felt the urge to shower. To clean herself.

It makes sense, doesn't it? Brock's words echoed in her mind as if she were in a cave, and she made her way from her dresser drawer, to her bathroom where she dipped over her sink and washed her face for several minutes.

But why would he tell her? It wasn't a trap set by Team Rocket, was it? Misty recalled the sinister hate reflected in his onyx eyes and she took a large breath and held her forehead. No, he as being honest—he honestly believed that the league was being controlled—blackmailed by Team Rocket.

...How?

Could it have been possible, that the media was tampered with; that the league had been tampered with? Was it all dirty as Brock had said? How could it be? Giovanni was crushed along with the rest of Team Rocket. However, she found out on Route Twenty Five, that was not the case—someone somewhere was covering events up; such as Bill's house; the lack of town, the missing pokemon trainers.

She rubbed the back of her neck in disbelief. Could it be Team Rocket? After all of these years...had they actually succeeded in infiltrating the Kanto region? She shuddered at the thought—which brought her to her desk, where she stared at a white paper. She thumbed the corners of the pages and then slumped into her wooden chair, listening to the low hum of water running where Daisy was washing dishes leftover from dinner.

Misty's head was spinning—why would Brock tell her? Trusting Ash was one thing—she would be lying if she didn't admit to having some blind allegiance to Ash that she couldn't explain, but why her?

The world was spinning while she reiterated Brock's assumptions over and over again—it explained everything, the malice between leaders and coordinators, the lack of social programs and law enforcement—the missing trainers, the controlled news reports. Misty gnawed on her nails, biting them to the quick for the first time since she was a child.

Tearing her eyes away from the blank paper, she stared down at her phone, wishing—no, praying—that it would light up with an unknown number. If Ash called her, she would know that he was okay, at the very least. What if Team Rocket attacked Ash? What if they came for her.

She felt a shudder run down her spine—fear taking over her body. Vomit edged at the back of her throat and she held her mouth closed to keep it down. Suddenly, she was reliving five years ago—only to have learned that this was going on much longer.

Brock's father was in the hospital when Ash was ten, Giovanni was only arrested two years ago. He was arrested what kind of power did a man have to have to still maintain control from prison? Misty felt her body shake, recalling the riots that took place in Unova region. Was it all of the alleged regions, or just Kanto Giovanni was messing with? Who was to say it was really Giovanni.

Maybe Brock was the crazy one!

Rubbing the back of her neck, she knew that wasn't the case. Even if Team Rocket still had influence, it wasn't widespread like an epidemic. It had to only be little spurts; like the village on route twenty-five; maybe some news publishers—that wasn't the whole world.

Sure, misty had her own beliefs that Team Rocker wasn't gone from the world—at least not really; but believing they were in small teams in a destroyed town was a lot different than believing that they were still integrated into every part of society. Surely, Brock was mistaken—maybe when his father was first poisoned, when Team Rocket was at it's prime; not now. They were no more than a few bandits now.

Right?

Slowly, Misty let herself calm down and then glanced at the folded envelop set at the corner of her desk. In the end, she had accepted Brock's recommendation to submit to the league; where Team Rocket might have been around still, there was no way that could control Misty—and she couldn't back down now. After so many years of waiting, she had to keep trying. Only, she hoped that it wasn't the wrong step.

XOXs

Before Ash left Saffron City, he had stopped in to talk with Sabrina, the gym leader, but was kindly escorted out. Long gone were his dreams of a recluse woman with hair that covered her eyes and psychic abilities, but replaced with a cold woman with strong followers. Like Misty, Sabrina was a force to be reckoned with, and when she discovered that not only was Ash, not a seasoned trainer—but that he was a student of the redhead's gym, he was quickly escorted out under several made-up pretenses; though, the fact that he had no -real- license was possibly the highest.

After that, he left Saffron City rather quickly. He didn't want to get caught up in the drama of the raging fire to the east; that he technically started, but more than that, he wanted to go south to Gringey City.

On top of charizard's back in most occasions; he learned two things: it required a pokemon license to fly on a pokemon's back, and air travel was highly tiresome for the dragon to carry Ash and all of his gear—so they walked.

A lot.

When Ash had the chance, he would scrap together money for a train; but when that wasn't possible, he hitch-hiked, other times he managed by bus; and outside of that, he walked.

Kanto was massive in most respects, larger than he remembered, getting anywhere took a lot of time—trails that were riddled with in-between-towns were actually just small villages or single houses, and the cities he remembered as small, were huge and elaborate. The same was said for Gringey City, which was once upon a time an oil and electrical powerhouse for all of the Kanto region. It's a most well-known trait—to be musky and dark-was the complete opposite.

It seemed almost unnatural the way the clean air fluttered through his nostrils.

When Ash asked around, and he did—with and to many different people—he discovered that pokemon by the name of "muk" or "grimer" were battled into extinction—and possibly, for good reason. They were poisonous to the world, humans, and nature itself. They brought, quite literally, muck with them and nearly destroyed the city almost eight years ago when they broke and infected a power plant that caused a black out in three cities.

No one seemed to complain that such a filthy pokemon would be extinct. Well, no one but Ash. In memory of the pokemon, he carved out lettering in a tree trunk, and then went on his way—he couldn't let himself dwell on incomplete, he had to move forward. With Pikachu still healing, togepi to watch, and training to begin; he didn't have time to dwell. Ash had to keep moving forward.

He did so by heading into the deep of the Saffari zone, taking the train from Gringey City. With his knowledge of pokemon until this point, he didn't expect to find his tauros—in fact, they had a short life expectancy mainly because they were meant to breed—and feed. Another name off his list after talking with the pokemon rangers who worked there. Even if Ash's tauros had made it this far, they would not likely remember him well.

Four weeks in, he found himself heading back towards the Viridian Forest—Much to his despair, the flying pokemon, pigeot was never found-like muk, and tauros, and primeape. He spent the rest of his time searching through the forest he had crossed with Misty trying to find some resonance of butterfree, but after two days, he knew his luck had run out. Five down, none found.

In the end of week five, he wandered back into Viridian City.

"That was a bust, huh, togepi, pikachu?" he uttered to the pokemon as the walked into the busy city streets. His head was burned from the sun, his skin was a darker tone and his hair just long enough to graze the back of his neck once again. Early February looked good on Ash, and he wasn't complaining—since the rain storms had finally passed, the southern region was finally back to it's typical brisk winters. A lot of sun, very little clouds.

"Pika, pika-chu." the pokemon spoke in return while togepi twisted itself to look up at Ash.

"Togi." it muttered and Ash hummed, eyes forward.

"Maybe I should ask someone. This would be easier with a pokedex..." he hummed.

Ash's attempts to reach Gary fell on short ears. Gary insisted that he couldn't rush the process of obtaining Ash's pokemon license since he—Gary-wasn't the title professor yet. Up until this point, it wasn't like Ash needed the extra room anyways. The few pokeballs that Misty lent him to carry under her name had been more than enough to catch the few of his pokemon he had found thus far:

Charizard and bulbasaur.

Honestly, he watched his feet kick up dirt, he thought he would have found more by now.

"Kaaaa chu." the electric rodent hummed from the ground beside Ash. Over the last five weeks, most of its body fat had shed, leaving it trim and muscular as its ears twitched warmly. Ash smiled. Pikachu had recovered nicely after the battle with arbok in the forest—if anything, the rodent turned over a new leaf, aspiring to be stronger every day.

"I 'spose you want to see your family, huh pikachu?" Ash asked, wishing he could return the sentiment. He would have liked to see his family, too. To visit with Cole for a little while; to stop in and talk, if only for a few minutes.

"Pikachu~" The pokemon mused in reply, grinning. Ash stuck out his chin.

"Well, don't let me stop you." He pointed to the pokemon center. "Meet me there at 5:00pm, and no later. We'll head off to route twenty-five from there." Ash hummed and the gushing pikachu let out a squeal before bounding away from its trainer.

"And be careful." Ash cried optimistically, watching the pokemon race away.

In his dreams, Ash could have never imagined separating from the pokemon—but after five weeks with just togepi and pikachu for comfort—and sometimes bulbasaur and charizard, he learned that pikachu was more than capable of taking care of it self. It was a wonderful scavenger—and without Jessie and James trying to hunt the pokemon down every ten seconds, he was oddly comfortable letting the mouse go off on his own.
A pang of mistrust shot through Ash's heart while thinking about where pikachu was going. His mother's house, to visit his family and Cole. Ash smiled gently at the thought—he had promised to write letters to his younger brother, but in the mix and excitement of travel; he had all but forgotten.

Sighing at the notion, he tilted his head looking into the distance as he moved forward habitually. Ash didn't think that he would be returning so soon to the facility, but if there was anyone—outside of Misty—who could answer his questions regarding pokemon, she was sitting in room 113, or playing cards with two older men.

"Hey togepi, how would you like to meet the only friend I made in the nursing home when you were just an egg?" Ash asked with a mischievous grin; the pokemon in question chirped blandly and put it's stubby arms up against Ash's head where it had been sitting on his shoulders and gave a sigh of frustration in return.

XOXs

When Ash walked into the assisted living home, he noticed a few differences—the first was that the administrator was no longer a cute blonde woman, but was instead a burly man with red hair. Second, the smell of coffee no longer traced the hallways, and third, the hardwood floors were now plush with a sort of off-color, blue office carpet. At the entrance, Ash spoke with the man for no more than five minutes, received his visitors pass, and wondered into the halls. They smelled like medical supplies—though Ash distinctly remembered the halls smelling like fresh cooked meals in the dining room—that didn't seem the be the case anymore. While every inch of it was familiar—it no longer, and really never felt like home to the young Ketchum.

Humming to himself, he turned the familiar corners, hands stuffed into his pocket as togepi hummed on his shoulder beside him; he walked past Dr. Abby's office once, and then again for good measure—the woman wasn't in; stapled to her door were a couple of congratulations notes—he could only assume that she had the baby and was how ferociously enjoying motherhood and maternity leave. A faint smile appeared over Ash's lips as he skipped in his step.

Good, the woman deserved to be happy after she bailed Ash out of the situation he was put in my Dr. Sebastian. Thinking about it now, those terrible times seemed so far away. They had only been a few months—but it felt like years ago. His time spent at the hospital, the time he spent healing in the nursing home—they were like flutters of a distant past, all covered by a mash of his dream world and excitement of the new day.

Without hesitation, he was off to his old room which washed a wave of nostalgia over his features, the metallic blue walls reflecting so many proud memories of defeat and victory. He glanced at togepi who was relatively quiet and composed compared to usual.

"This is where Misty gave you to me as an egg, togepi." He told the egg pokemon, which only glanced around the room, and sighed pathetically. Ash hummed silently.

"If there's something wrong, buddy... you know you can tell me." He said honestly, though the baby-egg didn't seem so keen on answering. Instead, it found its way into Ash's backpack by hopping from his shoulder and falling into the unzipped portion where it caved a sigh of relief upon sulking away from its trainer.

In return, Ash sighed and hunched his shoulders as he turned to leave the room—just in case it was occupied by another, he didn't want to intrude. Instead, he strolled along the familiar hall, tapping his fingers against the walls as he watched nursing aids flutter around.

Since the attack with ekans and arbok, togepi had been weird—Ash chalked it up to the same sulking nature he had when he lost a battle. Togepi felt responsible, and hurt for being unable to protect himself and his friends. If togepi was anything like him—the pokemon would spend a great deal of time over-analyzing its mistakes. The pokemon had already spent more than enough time training when Ash would practice with pikachu—but the silence it projected ate away at him.

"Togepi, we're not mad at you..." Ash started for the millionth time since the incident, though his admission was quickly interrupted by a rather familiar cackle.

"Back already?" he heard the faint click of a cane against the brick walls of the hallway, and nothing could stop the spread of a wide grin across his features as he turned, facing the woman he knew too-well.

"Agatha." Ash murmured politely. "How have you been?"
"I would be even better if I didn't see you standing here looking so damn youthful!" She crooned, wagging her fist at him. Ash grinned in response and turned to the woman who was hunched over, shaking her head. "Weren't you off on some grand 'ol adventure?"

"I was in town. I decided that I would come visit." Ash mused happily, earning a spark of excitement in the old woman's eyes.

"Well good! It's about time." She hustled him, grabbing a hold of his arm as she used to, baring him for support. "Follow me, we will have some tea—I'm sure we have a lot to talk about!" Agatha chirped and Ash paused.

"Wait, I have someone to show you." Ash hummed, pulling his backpack off of his shoulder to full out togepi who was still brooding as it stared at Agatha with dull eyes. Surely seeing an old friend would cheer togepi up.

Agatha blinked her wrinkled eyes, and smacked her lips. "That's the egg?"

"Yeah. It's a togepi." Ash said happily, cradling the pokemon, though it seemed to actively move away from the idea of being cradled.

"I can see that. That's a fairly rare pokemon." Agatha gushed, leaning forward to get a better look at the egg, it watched the old woman's eyes carefully as she adjusted her glasses and grinned like the old bird she was.

"Well, we will have plenty of time to talk over tea—don't keep these old bones waiting!"
XOXs

"I also found my pikachu, you remember pikachu, don't you?" Ash hummed while sitting in the activity wing once more, surrounded by Agatha and her elderly company that were interested in Ash, and even more interested in shuffling togepi around. The later seemed to relax as it was given attention from several sources, alleviating a hole in Ash's chest. He chuckled at the pained expression on the pokemon—in many ways, the brooding was Ash, but the general discomfort around people reflected Misty's personality.

"So you and the red head broke up then I take it?" Agatha chortled, as if reading his thoughts.

Seconds later, Ash nearly spit out his tea—but sucked back the bitter sweet liquid and hacked on his lungs upon the accusation. She sipped her tea nonchalantly with raised eyebrows.

"Broke up?" Ash hissed, grabbing at his chest. "We were never—I was never—she was-"

Agatha fanned him sarcastically. "Settle down, I was joking." she murmured. "You spaced out, I was only getting your attention."

With a scowl, his eyebrows twitched. Indeed the woman was like being around Misty—he almost wondered if Misty would act the same way when she was older. Still teasing Ash sixty years from now. His face never lost the red tint as he crossed his arms and glanced to the older woman.

"I was just watching togepi."

"Like any doting father would." Agatha joked with a curt nod, taking a long swig of tea. Ash pouted. "And how's the mother?"

"Misty is not-" he started, choking on his own words.

"I didn't say the red head." Agatha grinned, and at that moment, Ash put his face down on the table he was sitting behind and took a moment to breath while Agatha bellowed laughter from the depths of her rotten soul.

Looking up wearily at the woman, he rubbed his right temple and all but glared at her. He forced himself not to look over at togepi, in fear that by doing so he would have accepted such an absurd accusation. There was no way that was their relationship—togepi was his friend, but not in that way, surely Misty didn't think she was togepi's mother—did she? Though she did believe that in his dreams. A wave a panic washed into his chest, and he found it difficult to breathe as he rubbed his face sourly, frowning at the older woman who clucked her tongue.

"Joking aside, you've gotten taller." Agatha motioned towards Ash, removing the obtuse tension with ease. Naturally, Ash's shoulders rose, demonstrating the broad nature of his exercise and growth from his time spent away from the home.

"You think so? I don't feel any different." Ash chuckled, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably with a smile tugging at his lips. Agatha nodded with a keen smirk.

"Figures once you leave this place you would finally branch out a little bit more. You were walking bones when we first met." She concurred, and Ash could not argue.

"A lot as changed since then."
"In only a few months? Did you find your mother?" At her words, she noticed the grievance over his face and she retracted her statement.

"Wasn't pretty, was it?" She hummed, taking a sip of her tea. At that moment, Ash allowed his eyes to fall on togepi, who had glanced up at him the moment his mother was mentioned and spared Ash a sympathetic look; one of sadness and anguish that Ash reflected wholly.

"I'd rather not talk about it..." He ho-hummed, scooting the bitter tea away from his person—still never growing accustom to the taste. "Actually, I had a few questions."

Her eyebrows quirked. "Do you?"

"Yeah, about certain pokemon." Removing his back pack during his statement, he fished through the front pocket, through rations and carefully sealed bottles and into the contents of a beaten journal—the pages were written on sloppily, and even more than that, they were stuffed with traveling tickets, receipts, and blurbs of information and map pieces. Searching through the chaos, Agatha looked upon him with raised eyebrows when he extended a list of pokemon, with several names crossed out.

"Could you tell me which of those pokemon are likely to be around in say...oh, ten years or so? Maybe even five?"

Agatha glanced at the list, and whistled; "This is quite a list, kid. What do you need 'em for?"

"Oh... uh, they're uh..." He shifted. "Old friends." He decided, and the woman set the list down on the table before looking at him hotly.

"Old friends?" She echoed his words. "Are you following those crazy dreams of yours again?" She questioned, though the second his face heated up, he stared her down.

"Yes. Because my pokemon remember me." He told her quickly, getting a brash look of confusion. If life around the assisted living home had ever been lively, Ash was sure he would have heard the silence scream at him—but instead, the buzz of the television in the background echoed back at him as Agatha's thin lips pressed shut.

She clicked a pen, and brought the point of the pen to the paper. "Alright, I'll help you."

"Really?"

"I don't know what it is about you." She hummed, marking numbers and scribbles beside each name. "But I feel compelled."

"Misty says that a lot, too." Ash chuckled, thinking about the redhead and her uncanny act for accusing him of 'permanent baby face' or 'puppy dog eyes'. It was both a blessing and a curse—at this moment, as Agatha scratched along specific names, he thought it might be a little bit of both.

She took several minutes to acquire the information along the list, placing question marks beside the pokemon she wasn't sure about, and marking names with X's if they had a life expectancy shorter than five years—fortunately, that only accounted for about ten times, the rest she had marked differently, or written blurbs beside them to indicate their habits.

Had Ash never known the woman before him, he might have asked how she knew so much—but Misty had long given him an answer "It's an Elite Four members job to know" was the answer she had given him, followed quickly by "it's a good thing I'm not an elite four member yet—all I care about are water pokemon". Grinning at the memory, he found it difficult to pull his thoughts away from the Cerulean City gym leader. Even though it had been only a short time away, he wondered if she was managing without him.

"That's all I can help you with, kiddo." Agatha retorted automatically, clicking her pen once more before handing the list back over to Ash. "That doesn't account for pokemon that simply left the area."

Ash only briefly glanced at her writing—he wanted to be as far away as possible before truly investigating the note—save himself the embarrassment of breaking down in front of Agatha. He smiled at her.

"Every little bit helps, thank you."

"You're in for quite a journey, you know."

"I know." he answered quickly, with a brief, fleeting smirk before a strong silence settled in between the two of them.

"Well..." She started, crossing her arms over her chest. "I guess based on your reactions, you don't know them."

"Hmm?" He asked, blinking wide-eyes at her as she fumbled with a news paper that had been tucked away behind her for the majority of the visit. When the flying papers met with the wooden table in front of him, he gasped.

The front page was a picture of Misty, and another of charizard—she outlined the media on several pages. The Cerulean Gym was on the second page and several articles covered her talents as a pokemon trainer—his eyes only skimmed the pages. Since he started his journey, he hadn't thought to ask her about the incident, or bother to read the papers. Ash's focus has been primarily on recovering his pokemon, Misty's success was the furthest subject from his mind.

He went to speak, but when words fell out; he was speaking in tongue as he rose to his feet. The chair gave a loud screech as he slammed the newspaper against the table and blinked at Agatha.

"I should call her to congratulate her." He mumbled quickly, whistling for togepi to return to his shoulder. The egg pokemon naturally bounced from the elderly people holding it, to the floor, and then with one leap, onto Ash's shoulder, who dipped just enough for the pokemon to reach him. Agatha's face dropped.

"You're going already?" she groaned awkwardly, a bit surprised.

"I only stopped in for a little while." Ash hummed happily, though she looked flabbergasted.

"Well, did you at least open the gift I gave you?" She asked, frowning at him as her eyebrows knit. Unsurprisingly, Ash shrugged his shoulders and then closed his eyes innocently.

"No, I was so busy after wards I forgot! It's still in my bedroom at the gym!" He chirped, getting a soft sigh from the egg on his shoulder and a gasp of frustration from the older woman.

"How rude!" Agatha nearly shouted, but Ash was backing away slowly, a grin plastered across his face.

"I promise I'll open it when I go home." He uttered the word loosely, frantic to find a phone. She didn't seem as pleased—but in her older age, she wasn't as quick to her feet.

Before she could speak, Ash was already halfway down the hall, waving obnoxiously and smiling gleefully. Her hazel eyes fell onto the expression of the gym leaders face on the front of the newspaper, and she rolled her eyes, falling back into her chair to stare dramatically at one of the women who was sleeping in their wheelchair.

"Oh, to be young and in love again..." Agatha muttered, feeling rather sarcastic as she snorted and returned to her business of filling out the crosswords in the back of the news paper.

XOXs

This was the perfect chance—not that he needed a reason to call her, or anything—but he couldn't call her just because. After all, he didn't want to bother the busy gym leader—especially not if she was working to obtain her own dreams. No, Ash needed a reason to call her; otherwise, his nerves played tennis in his chest, and he was left shaking and pounding the corded phones on the receivers before the dial tone had even started.

Nervous might have been the proper word—but Ash summed his over-zealous nerves into the package that he didn't want her to worry about him, or believe that he was failing in obtaining his pokemon—he was trying, though he wasn't sure how many he would find.

Ash raced to the nearest pokemon center to make his call—the closest to the assisted living home was a small one about a mile away. He reached the corded phone in a little under thirty minutes, and spun to insert coins into the slot. On his shoulder, even togepi who had been rather blue the last few weeks chirped brightly, awaiting the call to connect. After he had punched in the unintentionally memorized numbers—he waited patiently.

Heart racing behind his ribcage, he wondered what in the world she couldn't answer her phone. Maybe she was screening her calls again? What if she was too popular to talk with him now? He swopped his forehead, glancing over his shoulder at other trainers who were talking about battles and comparing pokemon before looking back earnestly at the image of a phone sending dots to match the dial tone. Four rings. Five rings...six...

His excitement deflated as the dial tone ended, and the familiar beep of her recorded message sung at him. "Hello! You have reached Mist-" "Hello?" Misty's breathless tone interrupted the recorded tone, and Ash sat frozen for a moment.

"H-hey." he managed weakly, mentally scolding himself for such a delivery.

A pause, and then he heard the splash of water.

"Ash?" She nearly hissed. He could hear the frustration in her tone and his shoulders drooped defensively.

"Yeah, it's me. How's it going?" He tried, but her strangled tone only made his forehead drop against the wall beside him. Five weeks wasn't that long. She couldn't have been upset about that.

"I've been waiting to hear from you for weeks—why haven't you called?" She scolded from her end, perking Ash up right away. A mad Misty was a normal Misty.

"I was busy... you know..." He tried, but she wasn't hearing it.

"You could have at least called me after that stunt you pulled in route eight! And don't get me started about the safari zone—Ash, you are a student of Cerulean City; whether you call me or not I hear everything. Especially from Gary! You've called him like six times!" her shrieking voice did things to him.

Horrible things to him.

Mainly question why he bothered to call at all—this was the reason he had avoided it, after all. Speechless as she vented to him about his poor habits, he scratched at the back of his neck and swiveled in his seat, rocking togepi back and forth in his lap who both shared in the wrath of the redhead, but also enjoyed the sound of the woman's voice on the other end—no matter how hostile.

"And don't get me started about the shi—stuff that's been happening around here. You've missed so much—unless you've been keeping up with the news lately."

Ash finally felt her tone lower, and he blinked and licked his lips. "I haven't been, but I just heard about your media success—I wanted to say congratulations." He beamed through the mic.

"About that..." she muttered in return, and Ash felt his heart fall into the pit of his stomach.

"What happened?" He asked nervously, hating when she was so ambiguous.

"I wasn't the one who reported that I defeated charizard. Reporters already had the information when I made it back home only a day later." Misty hummed from her end, Ash cocked his head, sure that was a little strange, but really, what was so bad about that? She was finally being acknowledged for her hard work and dedication in her field.

"...so...?" He asked, a single eyebrow quirking as he shared a worried look with togepi.

She intentionally skipped the answer; asking instead. "Have you heard about Bill's house?"

"Bill's house? Was there news released about that?" Ash asked suddenly, listening to the sound of her shift away from her pool—to the flap of cloth, most likely covering herself with a towel.

"They're saying that storm we got caught up in was the cause of the lab's destruction—on top of that-the town we stayed in supposedly doesn't exist to the league, or anyone else for that matter." she paused as if in a great deal of thought. "Plus no one should have known that I defeated charizard until either you or I came forward, which meant that it had to have came from that town."

Ash stopped breathing for a second. Instinctively, he looked around the room, watching each trainers face. No one seemed moderately interested in anything he said or offered, but as he leaned into his square of the phone booth, he covered his mouth. Bill's lab couldn't have been destroyed by the storm, it had to have been like that for years—Misty assumed Team Rocket at the time, but the quake in her voice made his blood run cold.

"What's your point?" he grimaced, making little sense of her words. She sighed, he could hear the tense nature of her voice and lowered his eyebrows sympathetically.

"You don't think that's strange?"

"No, it's very strange." Ash said quickly. "But why is it so horrible?"

Misty paused for a long time—he could hear the sound of her chewing on her lip and biting her nails while she shook her head.

"Brock thinks it's Team Rocket, too."

"Team-" "SHH." She cut him off, as if she expected him to yell their name in surprise. She wasn't wrong, he had almost blown his cover. He settled down and exhaled into the phone.

"How does he know?" Ash asked quickly, followed by; "When did you start talking with Brock?"

"A few weeks ago—he came to visit me to ask about you and your dreams—he thinks...he made a lot of bold claims, Ash."

"He's not still hitting on you, is he?" the words escaped his lips before he could reel them in, and he smacked his head with the phone the second they fell on her ears. She made another strangled noise from the back of her throat.

"No-!" She gasped. "Why would that be your first suggestion?" She sighed. Honestly, he couldn't say. Sometimes his mouth spoke before his head had time to catch up; especially when the nerves in his chest threatened to explode. It seemed only to be getting worse the longer he was awake, too.

"He said that they killed his father, and they were controlling the league and that they are behind all the missing trainers...Not just this little town in the middle of nowhere..." she hummed, carefully refusing to call them by Team Rocket as if some form of paranoia had taken over her mind. "They are still around."

For Ash, her words didn't strike him as nearly as hard as the tone of her voice—it was almost shaking at the suggestion that Team Rocket was instigating some master plan. Ash blinked once, and then twice, registering what she had told him. Flint was killed by Team Rocket? Why would they do that? How would they have control over the league? Wasn't Giovanni thrown in jail, and the economy thriving stronger than ever since he was thrown in jail a year ago?

His fingers curled into his pants at the knees, and he bit hard onto his cheek.

"Ash?" The tone of her voice, unchanged from it's previous chill brought him crashing back to reality, to the sound of children playing behind him—to pokemon trainers raving about new techniques, and finally, back to Misty.

"I'm here." he responded naturally, and then shook his head. "Why would Brock tell you all of this?"

Her voice balanced, the moment of weakness had passed, and she was as nonchalant as she had always been—full of confidence—if he didn't know better, he would say it was bordering on proud.

"Because he believes in you, for some odd reason." She suggested, and Ash felt his heart flutter in his chest, a grin pull on his cheeks.

"Believes in me? How come?"

"Just a feeling." She admit, the sound of a grin tugged at her lips. "Also, he might have thought that you had some sort of psychic powers to recall information about his father and Team Rocket that we don't..." they both paused for a brief, combined chuckle—that wasn't how any of this worked. Ash wasn't psychic. At least he hoped not.

Misty licked her lips effortlessly. "Anyways...I'm not entirely convinced that this is the case but it's worth checking out."

He smiled, happy to hear the recover in her voice. "And how would you check it out?"

"I was planning on going back to route twenty-five just to double over. Look for that town, maybe some trace of Team Rocket that isn't just theory.." She grumbled, and Ash swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

"No, I'll go." he said sharply.

"What? No way." She hissed, but his mind was made up on the spot.

"You have to stay at the gym." he groaned sternly, listening to a sound of complete disinterest. He continued. "Besides, I was already on my way there and I am more than capable of spotting a few flunkie Team Rocket members, and with any luck, I'll find kingler over there."

Silence infiltrated the space between them, until she finally sighed. "Alright."

"Alright?" Ash gasped. "No fight or anything, just alright?" he mocked in surprise.

Flustered, she stammered for only a moment. "Only because I have some... Well, now isn't a good time to leave the gym." She crooned whilst clearing her throat. Ash grinned in response.

"Ohh, I see." he muttered sarcastically. "You're chicken."
"I am not!"

"You sounded terrified earlier." Below him, togepi chimed "briii!" in agreement.

"I was not." She hissed in reiteration on behalf of her defense. "Besides, it'll be good for you."

He pursed his lips bitingly. "Really? I could die, you know." He mocked her with such frivolous he could feel her glare from miles away.

"Ash Ketchum. You listen here-"

"Yeah, yeah, hell has not fury like a woman." He interrupted her, only getting more shrieks and groans of frustration. He found himself enjoying the small tantrums she would throw. "I'll be careful."

"Really. Because I was going to tell you to jump off a cliff." She bit back in a hoarse tone that brought a chuckle from Ash.

"I miss you, too, Mist." He hummed playfully, a real stumper for the red head who frantically stammered for words. Ash smiled to himself. When she was so far away he was so relaxed, but had she been here in person, he might have never reacted in such a calm manner. He had caught her off guard once more, in the same manner she had gotten flustered over before they seperated.

"How's togepi?" She cleared he throat, the change of subject caught Ash off guard when the pokemon in question squealed in reply, happily asserting itself between Ash and the phone.

"Toge bri!" it grumbled into the receiver, getting an eye roll from Ash. Misty chuckled—even though she had no clue what the pokemon was saying.

"I miss you, too."

"Oh, gee, thanks, I see how it is." Ash hummed sarcastically and shrugged his shoulders, scooping the phone out of the eggs way. "But seriously." he murmured motionlessly.. "What if it is them?"

Misty inhaled thoughtfully on her end. "Leave, and call me right away."

"And if it's not?"

"Then we worried over nothing—but it's better safe than sorry, you know?" She asked while rubbing the back of her neck, Ash nodded his agreement before realizing she couldn't actually see him.

"I guess." He responded, tilting his head.

"You're taking care of yourself?" She asked suddenly, catching Ash off guard once more at the haste of her voice.

"Yeah, of course. Pikachu is with Cole right now, and togepi and I have been visiting with Agatha." Mentioning his half-brother was still like venom on his lips, and he shuddered at the idea; even now, he struggled to wrap his head around it.

"So you're in Viridian City, then?"

His eyes glassed over. "Yeah..."

"Is it weird?"

"More than "Team Rocket is taking over the world" weird? No...It's just..." The image of his mother's cold look flashed in his memory, and he shuddered at the thought. Misty sighed thoughtfully.

"You'll be okay." She assured him warmly, and some how, even though Ash knew it was still far from okay, he smiled.

"Yeah..." After a minute, he forced himself to perk back up—he was nothing if not optimistic. "Hey, did you see a gift from Agatha for me at the gym?"

"From Agatha?" Misty's words lengthened. "Maybe in your room?"

"Probably. I meant to pack it with my things—but I forgot about it—could you hold onto it for me?" Ash asked happily while she whistled at him.

"Do I get to open it?"

"No!" Ash nearly yelled, earning a few looks from his peers. "I mean...It's supposed to be special." He couldn't tell her that Agatha requested that he open it away from Misty, after all.

"Special? It must be reaaalllly special if you forgot about it." She teased him, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

The two of them talked for awhile after that, using their best attempt to keep the conversation light. They shared stories about their advancements so far—Ash about his lack of pokemon—how many of them have either moved on, or passed away; and those that remain stand only at bulbasaur and charizard. Misty reiterated her meeting with Brock in detail, talking about the recommendation, as well as her own progression. In comparison, she was a lot closer to reaching her goals than Ash was, and he congratulated her for that.

Misty talked about her sisters, and about the gym, while Ash talked about the different cities he saw, and pokemon. Misty reminded him that he needs to be extra careful until Gary gets him a real license, but he didn't need that; he knew. He and Gary spoke nearly every week in hope that the badge would be ready, but thus far; it seemed endless.

Their call ended about thirty minutes after it started, having felt like only thirty seconds, Ash was a bit dejected when Misty was forced to hang up due to a challenger. Since her new found fame, she was challenged more frequently, and he couldn't blame trainers—everyone wanted to defeat the woman who defeated an enraged charizard. It was a shame he didn't receive any credit for helping—it was pikachu who used thunderbolt to finish the pokemon off, after all.

At the end of their conversations, goodbyes were easier over the phone, they lasted seconds, but left a scar imprinted on his chest for hours. Every time he spoke with her over the phone when he was in the assisted living home, he felt the same way. So small—alone. Glancing down to togepi one last time, he collected the pokemon into his pack as pikachu bound through the front door, indicating that it was time to leave already.

XOXS

The trip to route twenty five was easier without the rain. With charizard to fly on, the time was cut in half. They traveled up the coast that connected route nine and route twenty five, investigating the ocean shore for one crab pokemon; kingler. They dropped off outside of the forest a little ways, where he had been able to survey his surroundings. He had noticed right away, that unlike his dreams, time had not been kind to the shore here. Seaweed was washed up on all ends, lose rocks and boulders cradled the shore, only digging deeper each time the waves brushed high enough to their surface. Oddly enough, compared to the serene, sun set he had originally seen the beach, this was like a ware zone. In the distance, he could see the looming, destroyed lighthouse owned by bill in the distance, and wondered only to himself how it was possible no one ventured out this far.

"Kingler?!" Ash called, cupping his mouth with the palms of his hands. His eye brows knit together tiredly, kicking the shore line with his feet. Agatha had mentioned that they migrated during the winter, and not only that, they didn't have the longest of lifespans.

He tried again. "It's me, Ash, if you're there, come out!" Ash screamed as charizard swooped in behind him, roaring his own words to the absent pokemon-from his bag where pikachu and togepi had been resting, they each shouted as well. Silence answered them, only echoing the crack of waves against the ocean floor. His shoulders dropped, and his face soured as pikachu crawled out to pat him on the head.

"Pikapi-chu!" the mouse called into the distant; the howl of the wind carrying his voice much further.

They waited for a moment, half expecting that any minute the pokemon would appear. One, two, three minutes. Any second now. After the ten minute mark, waiting in the sand as the moon danced over the horizon, Ash rose to his feet and started to hike the distance of the shore toward the lab. He was nothing if not thorough.

Having no luck searching for the pokemon, Ash had taken to riding on charizard's back once more, to scale the rocky terrain once he ran out of ocean to comb. No matter how he looked-kingler wasn't around.

By midnight of that same day, he arrived at Bill's house, a beacon of destruction on the edge of the ocean. Swooping down to search the area above the treetops, Ash kept his eyes peeled in the darkness. Unlike that night that he and Misty were caught in the storm, there were no large signal beacons, no trails, not fences or gravel. Instead, Ash found dirt, and soil, and trees where the town was supposed to be.

As if it hadn't existed.

When charizard flew down to examine the statue of wartortle, only in the darkness, they couldn't find the pokemon.

Ash's guard was up as they explored—he wasn't so sure that Team Rocket would evacuate so quickly. The chill in the air showed his breath each time he exhaled, but he wrapped himself closely with his warm jacket as he searched the area bordering the trees—where wartortle was supposed to be... but found nothing.

In fact, any trace that Ash and Misty had even arrived in this area was all but gone. Even some of the broken walls from Bill's lab had been removed. Missing town, missing wartortle, and the evidence buried or covered up... Ash stared endlessly into the abyss of the ocean, clenching his fists tightly as each wave crashed against the rocks below.

The town was one event—the evidence was another...but to remove wartortle; to hide him, bury him; anything. That was a new low. His brown eyes settled on an island in the distance, and Ash looked over his shoulder at charizard, who was seething with his own rage while he glared into the ocean. At his feet, both pikachu and togepi shared the sentiment, and Ash glowered.

"We better find a phone..." Ash hummed angrily, stomping his feet until he jumped onto the back of charizard's shoulders.

Author's Note:

Kind of doing/practicing/trying a time-lapse method, so I'm sorry if it's choppy.

As always, thank you guys again, so, so ,so sossososossoso much for reviewing/faving/following the story. It means so much. -hearts-

Until next time.

NINT