Chapter 2
The Casualty
"Delia."
The sound was distorted, as if said above water while she slowly sank to the bottom. It took a moment for the young woman of twenty-seven in question to register the sound of her own name. The owner of the voice eluded her; she had zoned out. Looking up from the counter in front of her, the heavy barely kept brunette bangs on her face parted. Her makeup concealed bagged eyes that took in the surrounding hastily, trying to fill in the gaps. Where was she? What had she been–?
Work. Focus. Snap out of it.
"Excuse me, Delia."
It didn't matter what she had just heard, words spilled from Delia Ketchum's mouth faster than she could register who was actually speaking to her. A forced smile imposed itself on her expression, and her hands clasped together in front of her out of habit. "Ah miss, did you find everything that you need alright–?"
That was the moment it caught up with her, staring at the woman on the other side of the counter. Instantly, Delia cut herself off. Eyes wide, the fake smile vanished, and a hand flew up to cover her mouth. Her autopilot flicked off, leaving her in full control to face what could be imminent disaster. She quite nearly choked at the speed at which she stuttered out her follow up. "A-Ah… Yes, m-ma'am?"
Delia watched the older store manager's now increasingly critical eyes with a small, but very visible, flinch. "I've made it clear to you before that I won't tolerate you sleeping at the counter, correct?"
The young mother gulped. "Y-Yes, you have. W-Well understood ma'am." She wasn't sleeping, though that hardly mattered. Either way there would be consequences she couldn't afford should it be caught happening again. One look assured that notion, and she was desperate to keep this job.
"…Good," The manager led off slowly. "Anyhow, I originally came to ask you if you wanted Emmet's hours this weekend–?"
Delia's expression brightened considerably with each syllable that left her boss's mouth. It could still hardly be called anything remotely close to joy, more akin to relief. Nonetheless, almost outright interrupting the older woman, she didn't hesitate with her answer. "Yes! Uh, I-I mean, I would like that very much, please!"
"In that case–Saturday morning, six o'clock, to your usual start time. Sunday is the same, until your replacement comes in. Got it?" Sixteen extra hours.
A quick, shaky nod was her confirmation, Delia sweeping her unruly hair behind her ear with the most relaxed expression the woman had probably had all month. But, deep in her mind, the echo of laughter rung true. Images more horrifying than any she could ever think up on her own flashed in her vision and made her head pound. She wasn't even asleep and the nightmares ate at her.
This was normal, a fact of the time that she spent still breathing.
"Ah, excuse me. I hope your shopping experience with us has been well?" Delia heard the manager say with a friendly smile, drawing her out of her head, eyes catching a man who was carrying a basket of goods to the counter. He gave a short nod of greeting, and the manager continued, looking between the two. "Well, I'll be out of your way then. Delia, please ring up this fine customer."
Nods of their own were exchanged. That was the cue for the fake smile to appear on the young woman's face. "Did you find everything you need today, sir?"
When Delia exited the convenience-store to head home, it was past ten at night. The had since set, allowing darkness to battle the numerous lights of Saffron City for control. It briefly reminded her of the fact that she originally applied intent on the overnight shift, only to be told that she would be given the late-day instead, as a previous applicant had more valid reasoning for wanting the night shift than herself. The 'optimal arrangement', as the manager had put it.
Delia had once thought that avoiding sleep in the darkness would stave off the creature. She couldn't afford to keep lights on all night, so sleeping during the day was the obvious solution. That was what she was led to believe by the creature, the demon. It was an incorrect assumption.
Sleep to her was like inevitably being forced by her bodily needs to walk into her own personal mental torture room. Not only that, she would do nearly anything to keep away from that house in general, bar completely leaving her son.
He was the one bright spot; her glimpse of sanity.
Sanity. She readily acknowledged that she was a mess, if not outright crazy. Zoning out constantly, losing sense of what was happening around her, freaking out at the smallest things; it was hard enough to hold down a job when she couldn't stop behaving like a schizophrenic off of her medication.
That wasn't the worst of it, not by far. Delia was jealous. Envious of everyone who could walk around normally day to day. Anyone who could lay down at night and rest peacefully. She was jealous of her past self, a state that she would foreseeably never be able to return to. Although, even further down, she was jealous of her own son; the one who never cried anymore, the one who had never so much as showed a hint of being bothered by the demonic being that held residence wherever they went, since he was seven. She could distinctly remember the nights that he would come to her for comfort, an escape. It helped her as well. But those times were long gone.
Yes. Ash had left her alone, to suffer.
Everyone had. To suffer in silence. Ash, her "husband", her "friends"…
The touch of rain forced Delia to look up from the sidewalk. Soon, it went from a light sprinkle to a moderate pour before her narrowed eyes. Her expression hardly changed, she only flinched at the chill of the cold shower on her neck.
She continued on, clutching her bag under her arms in front of her in an effort to keep everything dry. It was a three minute walk to the nearest subway entrance; hopefully she wouldn't end up sick.
Or maybe that would be–
Delia's fingernails dug into her bag. Her steps became more firm, her rain-soaked pants already rubbing roughly against her legs, a similar story to her multi-layered top. She got many slightly worried looks from bystanders as she stepped down the stairs at the entrance of the subway, shaking her head back and forth, hurrying down to the bottom as quickly as she could without slipping.
"I'm s-sorry, Ash," she whispered to herself repeatedly. "I'm s-so sorry…"
At that point, one wouldn't be able to tell the tears beginning to stream down her face from the rain she had just escaped.
Banette of my Existence
A/N (Prepare for an unreasonably long one. As for the word count inflation, I am very aware, and very sorry. Good luck.)
Contemplated making this chapter much longer, and eventually decided against it. This is just meant to convey Delia's state of character in relation to Ash and Banette. The next will definitely contain significantly more plot progression by comparison. Anyway, onto something I've been thinking about ever since it was brought to my attention:
Contrary to the inclusion of the protagonist and poster boy of the Pokemon anime, I don't intend to use the anime in its entirety as a base for this fanfiction. However, that said, I have thought of using other characters from the anime in this admittedly, pretty odd, fanfiction. The issue with this is that not everyone has seen the anime, and even I myself don't remember more than a few dozen whole episodes from all my time of being a Pokemon fan. So I want to establish some things. Let's get down to business.
For all intents and purposes, you should probably be treating Ash and Delia Ketchum as "Original Characters", even though they (and other such characters) have a very similar if not an identical past as those two in the anime. Many of those minor details in their history will probably be hinted at, if not fully explained anyhow. Forthgoing, I will be putting more effort (than I originally thought I would) into describing appearances, locations, character relationships, etc. It's only logical. This is supposed to be a mostly standalone Pokemon fanfiction, meaning even if you have only played the games, you would be able to understand. I will do this with every character I feel needs it, regardless of their story of origin: anime, manga, or any of the games. Note that this statement is not meant to declare that any of these established characters are my own, but I would like to use them, and if requested I will try to list their true origins at the end of the chapter in which they are introduced. This would be to avoid confusion if I do end up creating an OC; something that won't exactly be off the table given the nature of this fic.
Q&A time. Some simple ground-work.
Q: Does Ash's Pikachu exist?
A: For safety, assume so. Will you ever see him? Fuck if I know.
Q: Is this story gonna be edgy?
A: Uh. Yes, at times. It is an adventure story, and I don't plan for it to be soul-sucking at every possible moment, but it is based in tragedy, drama, suspense, horror, etc.
Q: What can I expect going forth in this fanfiction?
A: Me kicking you in the shins and hoping you like it. The chapters after this one will hopefully expand on where I'm going. Ash and (this random ass) Banette will remain quite central to the story for certain.
Q: Romance? Pairings? Ash x (Insert Poke-Girl)? Pokephilia? LEMONS?
A: Lmfao. To get it out of the way, this is not a romance-centered fic by any means; just as a pure disclaimer. But to go into it further, it was a running joke between myself and my friend while conceptualizing this that every time the topic of non-platonic relationships would come up, it was, "Ash x Banette, smut every chapter, fuck everything (1)", as we do while thinking about literally every fanfiction I'll ever think about writing for some fucking reason. It's safe to say that this won't be at all present, but the dynamic between Ash and his partner-Pokemon will be complex in various aspects that may even eventually push on those boundary lines, as can come with the disturbance of morals and mind-fuckery. However, in the end, I reserve the right to do whatever the fuck I want.
(1) One day I searched to see if there were any good Pokemon horror-fics in the archive, filtering by the "Horror" genre, sorted by "Favorites"... The first result on the page was a certain fic called "Captured"... After seeing the summary, I was willing to skip over it, but somehow both I and my friend came to the decision that we would BOTH read it, so that we would BOTH be subjected to it. Long story short, WOULD NOT RECOMMEND, but if you know what I'm talking about, you can understand where this is going.
