Sorry for the re-upload. The site keeps doing its best to convince me this chapter is lost in cyber-limbo and I just want to make sure it's showing up now. Hopefully the site will get its act together soon; I'm sure a lot of peeps were experiencing these wacky outages... If you've already read, thank you...please ignore this notification. :)
Man, that was a long two weeks, wasn't it? I mean, it felt like Thanksgiving and Christmas passed by and everything!
Needless to say, I had a very tough time writing this chapter. Why? Who knows. My muse decided to go on vacation for quite a while without my consent and I had to do a lot to drag it back. I hope this chapter is worth the ridiculous wait. At any rate, I can't say I didn't take my time on it to make it just right. :)
Disclaimer: Even though I asked, I didn't receive Pokémon or The Blair Witch Project for Christmas. Maybe it was for the best, for a lot of the things I received for Christmas I wound up returning, much to the chagrin of my family. Not my fault! I felt bad, but I put specific things on my list and people wound up buying the not-so-quite-it variations of said things. If I had received the abovementioned goodies, I probably would have gotten, like, "Pokeman" or "The Blair Witch Mission." Not cool! Also not funny. Sorry. I'm a writer of melodrama, not comedy.
With that…! ^^;
SOON BEGINS BEWITCHING
by Spruceton Spook
Chapter 4
"Lights Out"
At last, her house was at peace.
Not that Delia had a right to complain otherwise. After all, it was because of her that the kids were not en route to the Johto Region as planned. She was beyond elated that Ash had finally relented and decided to stay home. It had come as such a surprise to her that he was so strong-minded about leaving. When he'd agreed to return home for his birthday, Delia had simply assumed he'd stick around for Halloween, as the occasions were but two weeks apart. Not to mention Ash loved Halloween. Suddenly, her hope for having her two boys home for the holiday was evaporating right before her eyes. Delia couldn't thank Jay enough for his quick, clever thinking in winning over Ash's doggedness.
Her mind kept drifting to the kids as she finished tidying up the kitchen in the company of her drowsy baby. After a full day of running around outdoors, they had decided to keep up the trend and spend the night out to film another scene for their little project. It was not terribly cold, so she had no concerns with them popping a tent about ten minutes walk from the house on the edge of the Viridian Forest. Ash had been positively glowing about the campout, and Delia was not about to harness that enthusiasm; she'd welcome him back the next morning and be grateful her boy was home to stay for a little while longer.
Despite it all, she had to admit that the absence of the wired energy of the older kids and their pokémon was just about the greatest delight granted her at the moment. After a pretty crazy day, she had full intentions of basking in a serene, wonderful night with her husband.
Who…all of a sudden was in the foyer, fully dressed, shuffling into his heavy jacket.
Her face lit with surprise. "Where are you going?" she asked.
Barely following dinner, just as the kids were assembling their things, Jay had announced he was going to turn in early. Ash had invited his father to join in their fun, but Jay affably declined, saying he was looking forward to nothing but chilling in front of the TV. And he meant it, too; before the kids had even left, he was sprawled on the couch in his pajamas.
Now, as Delia eyed her husband, Jay was back in his jeans and boots, a flashlight in hand and his old knapsack hanging off his shoulder.
Jay gave her a sweeping smile. "Going out to check on the kiddies."
"But…" she trailed off, motioning to him in confusion, "you were all ready for the night. What happened? Why are you going out now?"
Zipping his jacket to his chin, Jay shrugged as if it were no big deal. "Just wanna make sure they're okay." With that, he gave her a devious wink and smirk, then turned on his heel toward the door.
Delia's eyes widened in revelation. "Whoa, whoa, wait, hold up!" she cried, dashing into the living room. He halted abruptly with his hand on the knob.
"What?"
"What are you planning?" she asked, her hands on her hips.
At her blunt allegation, Jay was agape. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
Delia could tell he was fighting off a culpable grin, all but confirming her suspicion. "Oh, no, you don't!" she wagged her finger. "Don't give me that. I know that look, Jay."
"What look?"
Delia glared at him askance. "The look that you're up to something. Don't think I don't see it! What are you going to do to those kids?"
Jay groaned, amused. "Absolutely nothing."
His tone could have fooled anyone but the all-too-wise woman married to him for fourteen years. Delia scrutinized him intensely for a moment before a tiny leer twitched at her lips. "Bull."
Giving a short laugh in apparent surrender, Jay reached out to give her shoulder a playful shove. "Fine. You got me. I'm going out there to help them film a scene from their movie."
She gave him a face. "You are? Oh. But they've been out there for a couple hours now. I would think they'd be done by now—they looked a little beat when they left. They've might even fallen asleep!"
"Maybe," Jay smiled, shrugging.
"Wait…so you're gonna go wake them up?" Delia asked with a faintly disapproving look, still not catching on.
Jay stared at her for a moment, his eyes lit in brazen joviality and lips pursed to hold back his laughter. "That…would be the ideal strategy."
With that, the light bulb finally went on, and the look of condemning disbelief that took over his wife's face said it all.
"Oh, c'mon, Del," Jay hurriedly chuckled in defense. "It'll be great! They said they had problems 'acting,' so I'm making it so they won't have to! Some of the best filming in history has been done through improvisation, you know."
"That is not improvisation, Jay!" Delia scolded. "That's scaring three poor kids half to death." She couldn't believe what she was hearing. If she indeed grasped what Jay was intending to do, playing such a sneaky trick on the children…well, actually, wait, she did believe it. This was Jay, after all—her overgrown, wayward child of a husband. His personality still didn't excuse the idea, though.
"Don't worry about it," he threw it away affably. "I'm not going to scare them…too much. Just gonna give 'em a little bit of…unforeseen material for their movie. They'll love it. And appreciate me for it!"
Delia faltered with his explanation before a heavy, admonishing stare tightened her pretty features. Normally that kind of expression was particularly coercive, but Jay was far too excited about his goal for it to work this time around.
"I promise you it'll be fine," he swore, his mollifying eyes trying to soften that chiding look away.
After a few uncertain seconds, it did exactly that. Delia finally gave him a crooked smile as she reached up to straighten the collar of his jacket. "All right. Fine. Go off and play the witch. Maybe if you do a good enough job, my son won't ask me to play it again. Fresh kid," she snickered, recollecting how Ash had asked her to "join the cast" at dinner that night. She'd felt flattered until he impishly reveled the part he had in mind for her. Then she'd felt like smacking him.
Jay's tenacious smile widened, this time in gratitude. He plopped both hands on her shoulders and squeezed. "I'll blow the role right out of the water, babe. Listen, I'll be back before you know it—put the squeak to bed, get into your jammies, and you and me'll do some cuddling. How's that sound?"
"After you're done terrifying my kids?"
"After I'm done terrifying your kids, yes."
Another rebuking look, and then a ceding, laughing sigh, "Okay."
With another wink, Jay went to let himself out…
"But, Jay? I'm warning you."
…only to be held up again. Delia pointed a finger stringently in his direction, though her smile lingered. "If what you do tonight scares my little boy so much he wants to spend the night with his mother, you're on the couch, buster. There isn't room on that bed for the three of us. And he gets first dibs, always."
"I am completely okay with that," guffawed Jay. A glint of facetious wickedness twinkled in his eye again. "It'd be totally worth it."
"You are terrible, Jacey, you know that?"
"Turns you on, though, don't it?"
With an over-the-top groan at Jay's suave, brash croon, Delia turned and headed back for the kitchen. She heard the front door close behind her and briefly stopped to wonder if giving him permission to go ahead with this little scheme was the smartest thing to do. Jay meant no harm, but being a classic prankster at heart, he had a history of going a little overboard in his pursuit for fun. Right then, the probability of the peaceful evening she'd invested so much hope in diminished considerably. There was no doubt the results of this escapade could swing either way.
All of her concerns washed away, though, when she was met with the tired, yearning eyes of her precious Riley. Delia couldn't stop the smile that emerged as she gazed lovingly at the little boy in the highchair, the spitting image of her rascally husband. It was past his bedtime for certain, so for the moment, there was enough to distract her from the impending outdoor shenanigans.
"Oh, Riley," Delia sighed, hoisting him into her arms. "Wait till you really get to know your daddy, baby. You'll discover soon enough that, mentally? He's not much older than your brother."
Misty was still trying to come up with a good explanation as to why she allowed this to possibly happen.
Even though doing so would clearly be in spite of herself, given how she felt at the moment.
After the relief of Ash agreeing to stay in Pallet and the hope that a nice, long week in her safe bed would drive out any apprehension she felt as a result of that inane movie, here they were: outside, in the dark, and at the mercy of the elements of nature and anything that happened to be hiding deep within it.
Leave it to her sharp, thoughtful boyfriend to choose that first night as the one to film the nocturnal scenes of their shoddy little project.
Maybe deeming it shoddy was a little unwarranted. Misty had to respect Ash for the interest and commitment he was putting into the film. It wasn't something she saw quite often from the easily-distracted, flighty boy (well, at least for anything not relating to pokémon). But no one was going to disagree with her that so far the film was a mess. After a full day of meandering and brainstorming and quarreling and rehearsing, all they had to show for it was a brief, lackluster scene of them popping a tent. Not to mention a ton of unflattering close-ups of Misty's face due to Ash's annoying fascination with turning the camera on her at every chance he got, regardless of his proximity.
At first she had been understandably upset that he wanted to camp out to shoot a creepy nighttime scene or two. After all, didn't Ash see that her mind was still at unease from all those correlations she foolishly made with that movie and their personal lives? If so, either he didn't care, or he decided that the best way for her to get over those fears were to face them head-on and as soon as possible. Though he wasn't letting on, she had a pretty solid hunch it was the latter. In truth, she found it a bit endearing that he was enacting his own sort of tough love on her, especially in the implicit way he went about it.
In any case, Misty had to acknowledge that, in the end, it wasn't that bad of an idea. Because as she nestled deep into her snug sleeping bag, Ash's arm slung limply over her shoulders, she found herself surprisingly content, calm, and, most importantly, unafraid.
So they hadn't gotten far with the filming. It didn't matter. They'd had a nice evening regardless. The sun had set quite a time before they decided to camp out; thus, they'd made their way to the site with nothing more than a flashlight, the weak beam from the video camera, and the nearly full moon high in the black sky. Misty couldn't help but confess that the setting was extremely "Blair Witchy" and therefore rather disquieting, but Ash had been so hyper and animated it was hard to remain anxious.
It was certainly due in part to the fact that Ash had discovered his parents' supply of trick-or-treat candy (poorly hidden, what were they thinking?), snatched a variety bag for their outing, and helped himself to nearly half of it. The kid was in a good mood, and it was infectious.
Perhaps if he hadn't been so saturated with sugar they would have filmed a little more productively. He couldn't be blamed entirely, though. True, Ash was breaking into manic giggles every few seconds, but with Brock yawning up a storm (despite shoveling candy bars galore into his mouth, as well) and Misty still not feeling the acting jive, the three were more interested in chilling out and enjoying each other's presences than "working."
Even so, Ash filmed their stamping out of the campfire and their goodnights and their settling in for sleep, and as far as Misty was concerned, they were "in character." It could be usable material—dull, but usable. She didn't care much about that at the moment, however. Following a vigorous day, the main things on her mind was sleep, sleep, and sleep. Though a smidgen of her phobia remained, she found that she was far too tired and far too comfortable sandwiched between her two friends to really worry about it.
Now, lulling herself into slumber, Misty concentrated on the parts of camping she truly loved, reminding herself that this was her life, the one she embraced. The sharp scent of the burnt-out fire stung her nostrils. The tent was warm from the thick sleeping bags and their body heat, as well as from the tiny little radiator nestled against her bosom in Togepi. Ash and Brock were beginning to lightly snore, which used to get on her nerves but now made her feel sheltered and not alone. And then there were the other hypnotizing sounds all about her: the perky crickets, the tree branches crackling in the wind, twigs and dry leaves crunching under the weight of heavy, measured footsteps…
Misty's head snapped up and her widened eyes met the consuming darkness. Her heart went from restful to thumping like a sledge hammer in a second, even though it felt like every drop of blood froze still her veins. Keeping her breathing down in spite of her pressing alarm, she tried desperately to focus all her attention on verifying what she thought she had just heard.
Insects, groaning trees, and tumbling leaves: nothing more than the familiar soundtrack of her everyday outdoor life. Misty remained motionless for at least a good minute, letting the sounds seep into her psyche and settle her frantic heart. When she was finally convinced that all was status quo, she allowed her stiff body to release.
Nice, Misty, she scolded herself, letting her head fall back to her pillow. The first thing you're going to dream about is hearing something walking around in the woods? What are you trying to do to yourself? Go to sleep!
Truthfully, she couldn't blame herself for letting her imagination get the best of her. But at the same time, this was crazy—she was okay. Everything here was fine and her stupid paranoia was behind her, so now her unconscious mind was going to do its darndest to taunt her and freak her out?
Drawing one last deep breath in, Misty pulled the edge of the sleeping bag to her chin, closed her eyes, and clutched Togepi closer. She was drained, so much that even that fleeting jolt hadn't altered her sleepiness drastically. Hopefully, this time she'd drift to sleep without incident. Morning would come fast enough.
Crack, snap.
Okay, that was not her imagination. That was one thing Misty was positive of as she bolted up again, the whole lot within her torso seemingly climbing her esophagus. Something was traipsing around in the woods, and if her ears weren't deceiving her, she determined it wasn't too far from their tent. At once, every bit of fear she was harboring for the last day, valid or unreasonable or whatever, came to a head, and she did the first thing her distressed instincts compelled her.
"Ash!" she hissed in a frantic whisper, striving to rouse her boyfriend with a few hard shoves to his comatose form. "Ash, wake up!"
It took a little bit of vigor, but Ash began to stir, a deep, aggravated groan emanating from the depths of his throat.
"Hnnn? What 'sit?" he griped, sounding like his tongue was made of lead.
"There's something walking around outside!" Misty cried, keeping her voice as low as her terror permitted. "I hear it! It's close to the tent! Ash!"
Though dark as could be, Misty was aware of Ash's disorientation by his lack of immediate response and the laborious wriggling she could feel beneath her trembling hands. The kid had been fast asleep, and it hadn't taken him long...and here Misty thought she'd been the exhausted one.
"…What's close to the tent?" he muttered at last, dazed. His garbled but strident voice made Misty wince so hard a sharp pain coursed through her jaw.
"Shhh!" she hushed. "I don't know what it is! You have to listen!"
"Misty—"
"Just listen!"
To Misty's relief, Ash obeyed, freezing promptly at her anxious command. Clasping tightly to the folds of his sleeping bag, Misty did all she could to swallow down her audible panic, knowing it would be all the two were going to mind if she didn't gain control of it. It made no difference, however. Once again, the normal sounds of a gusty, autumn Pallet night prevailed over the stillness.
"Misty…I don't hear anything," Ash murmured after a few moments. His voice still dragged sleepily, but thankfully it'd quieted to a subdued volume. He released a massive yawn. "Wha…what did you hear?"
Misty's brow furrowed, confused and agitated by the inconsistency of what she was experiencing. What had she heard? And had she really heard it? She knew she hadn't been that asleep to imagine it or mistake some other regular, harmless sound. If only Ash could have also heard what she had to prove—
Whoa, she thought, shaking her head fiercely. What the hell was she thinking? All at once, she realized just how absurd her spontaneous hysteria was making this. Why did she want to hear the mysterious noise again?
Oh my God, I'm going crazy…
"I—I…I don't know," she finally sputtered. "I…I thought I heard walking. I could've sworn I heard something…outside...s-something like…"
Like the Blair Witch.
Misty. Stop. It.
"Oh. Well, I don't hear anything," Ash replied nonchalantly. "'Cept the crickets." He yawned loudly again, and Misty could feel him sinking back down into his sleeping bag. "You're probably just hearing the wind blowing in the trees. Relax and go back to sleep."
If only Misty could do so that easily. Instead, she remained sitting ramrod straight as she tried to make sense of what was happening out beyond the tent…what was happening to her.
"Lay down," Ash cajoled, his voice wafting gently. He grabbed at her arm to coax her down, but even his mild touch startled her so much she jerked brusquely to the side.
"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked with genuine concern. It didn't help that he couldn't see her, save for her very faint outline cast by the moonlight filtering through the thin canvas. But there was no denying the air of edginess about her shadowy presence.
"I…I dunno, I guess—"
And that's when they both heard it—not the sporadic, phantom footsteps that had been chipping away at Misty's jittery sanity, but an arguably more alarming sound. Off in the bleak unknown of the encircling forest, what sounded like a few sizable rocks began falling quickly and noisily, the shrill ping of their impacts on the ground, the undergrowth, and against other rocks spearing at the kids' heaving hearts. This was what got Ash fully out of his drowsy stupor.
"Okay, what the hell is that?" he asked, his tone a mixture of surprise and perplexity.
"Pi?" Pikachu was now conscious thanks to Ash's abrupt jolt, and Misty could hear unease in the pokémon's voice. Thankfully Pikachu was very in tune to the trainers' actions, and it wasn't every night that the kids were reeling about their tent in alarm. Normally, Misty would have felt reassured by Pikachu's bold nerve, but this was no ordinary noise. This was no ordinary situation.
"That's not what I heard!" she shrieked in a whisper. Clumsily, Misty grabbed at Ash and managed to snag his arm, twisting her fingers into the fabric of his flannel pajamas. "Ash, that isn't—that isn't it what I…"
"Guys!" Brock yelled grouchily. In spite of it all, it was this unexpected addition that caused Ash and Misty to leap out of their skins. Obviously unaware of the issue due to being wrenched rudely from sleep, Brock groaned and grunted as his shadowy silhouette rose before them. "What's going on?"
"Shhhh!" the two kids responded instantly.
"What—"
"There's something outside!" Misty quickly informed Brock, her distraught whisper demanding him to follow suit. "Brock, you have to be quiet! There's something walking around the tent and—and throwing rocks outside! And—"
"Whoa, whoa, wait, wait," Brock commanded stressfully, quickly getting his bearings together. "Misty, I don't…I don't know what's going on. I can't see a damn thing—"
Misty could feel Ash scramble beside her, rummaging around himself blindly and madly. Even with her furious will to adjust her eyes to the paltry light bleeding into the tent, it was still overpoweringly dark, rendering the situation all the more unnerving.
Before she had a chance to question his chaotic ruffling, her eyes were suddenly assailed by a glaring light piercing her dilated pupils. Her hand immediately flew up to shield the vicious ray.
"A-Ash, ahh, what—" she spluttered.
As Misty fought to regain her senses, she quickly realized it was the light from the camcorder. Though dim and largely adequate in more normal circumstances, this time around it was a punishing beam that seemed to stab into the furthest walls of her retinas, unleashing trails of tears from the corners of her eyes.
"Ash, shut that off!" she demanded, the unexpected discomfort causing her voice to raise by accident.
"No, keep it on," Brock countered. He swiped the back of his hand across his watery eyes. "I don't know what's going on, Misty! I have to see!"
"There's nothing to see!" she cried hysterically. "Brock, you have to listen—"
"I can't listen if you don't calm down, Misty!"
It was no secret that Brock was definitely the crankiest of the group when tired, the one and only time genuine irritability manifested itself in his otherwise tame demeanor. Despite her anxiety, Misty shut her mouth at Brock's goaded bark. Togepi, stirred by the raised voices, squeaked sleepily in complaint, and Misty instinctively scooped up her pokémon.
"Misty's hearing some weird noises outside the tent," Ash whispered softly, trying to bring Brock up to speed in more composed approach. "I just heard something, too."
"What are you hearing?"
"Footsteps. Rocks." Misty swallowed uneasily. "Really weird stuff."
"Yeah, those rocks were definitely weird," Ash concurred, his voice drifting and eyes roaming as he continued to listen for more sounds.
Straining to keep his eyes open, Brock titled his head and listened, too. Naturally, just as before, there were no strange noises to be heard, making Misty's stomach tighten in frustration. It almost seemed like nature heckling her, again depicting her to be the deranged schizoid in her friend's eyes.
"Misty, I don't understand what you're freaking out about," he said, predictably. He still sounded rather disgruntled at being awoken, which she knew was also hewing at his patience. "We hear noises at night all the time. The woods are filled with pokémon. That's what you're hearing."
"None of those noises I heard sounded like pokémon," Misty contended, bristling. She clutched Togepi close beneath her chin.
Brock blinked tiredly. "But that has to be what it was. What else could it possibly be?"
Misty withdrew her head into her shoulders at his slightly condescending tone. That was a question she wasn't quite sure she wanted to answer as honestly as her wary, edgy senses were prompting.
"Of course it has to be pokémon," Ash answered instead, though a touch of misgiving was evident in his whisper. "There's a million of 'em out here. Coulda been anything making that noise. Right, Pikachu?"
"Chu," the mouse replied, his ears and tail still erect as he continued to try to ascertain the source of the enigmatic noises.
Misty turned to her boyfriend. "Ash, we heard rocks falling outside," she grated, her eyes wide and demanding a firmer, more assenting explanation. "That's not a sound we've heard before!"
Except…except in…
Ash flinched a little at her point, but quickly picking up his head. "S-so? There could be a lot of pokémon who would mess around with rocks outside! Like, uhhh…" His eyes darted as he thought quickly. "Like geodude—r-right, Brock?"
His jaw tightening in a cringe, Brock contemplated it for a second before shrugging uncertainly. "Well, yeah, geodude throw rocks all the time…"
A glint of relief flashed in Ash's eyes. "Then it could be a geodude! There are a ton of them in the Viridian Forest!"
Allowing the convincing explanation to take root in her brain, Misty felt her fear lessen slightly.
"But Ash," Brock went on hesitantly, leaning in to stress, "geodude aren't nocturnal. They don't have good enough eyesight to see at this time of the night. That would just be weird."
And in a flash, Misty's heart clenched again. Her impetuous protest to Brock's reasoning was ready to blurt out before she reined it in with a deep breath. Of all times for Brock to demonstrate his broad knowledge of rock pokémon! She reluctantly believed his statement, as much as it induced her nerves to tremor again.
Ash wasn't about to accept Brock's argument…although it wasn't quite in the way Misty would have went about it. "Well, what if something's attacking it and it's throwing rocks to defend itself?"
"What if…what if what's attacking it attacks us?" Misty asked timorously.
"Ash, don't be ridiculous," Brock said quickly, narrowing his eyes. "We'd hear pokémon cries if that were the case. Nothing's being attacked out there! There're so many other things it could—"
"Hey, well then maybe it's spearow!" Ash spewed out another speculation, interrupting Brock's second attempt at restoring calm. "Maybe the spearow are, like, dropping rocks out of their nests!"
Later on, when she had a chance to really evaluate what had gone through her mind during that nerve-racking episode, Misty couldn't believe what she'd allowed herself to consider, if only for a split second, in those desperate moments to dispel her fear. Because even though she didn't recognize it at that moment, Ash had no idea what he was talking about.
So much for his extended knowledge on pokémon attributes and behaviors.
Brock scrubbed a hand over his face. "You're kidding, right?" he chuckled sardonically. "Spearow are dropping rocks from their nests. Ash, come on."
The boy shrugged dramatically, throwing the light from the camcorder dancing across the ceiling of the tent. "I don't know, I'm just thinking here!"
"Maybe you should stop thinking and go back to sleep," Brock suggested emphatically. "I don't know about you, but I don't hear anything. Seems like everything's fine to me. You guys gotta chill out."
As Misty watched Brock settling down onto his pillow, her anxiety began churning again, realizing that no explanation was given for what brought about this whole scenario in the first place.
"It's not just about the rocks, though!" she cried. It was getting harder and harder to maintain the whispering. "What about the footsteps? I know I heard the footsteps. Those definitely didn't sound like they belonged to a pokémon! They were really heavy!"
Brock moaned, facedown in his pillow. "Misty, need I remind you how much sleep you got last night? Maybe you should try it, too. We all need rest; it's been a long, long day and I'm tired and you're tired and let's just sleep now, okay?"
"But Brock—"
"Misty."
It couldn't have been timed better. For as soon as another one of Brock's muffled growls sounded from the folds of his pillow, another crack of a branch echoed outside the tent—then another, then another: deliberate, methodical, not at all light. And, to Misty's intense dismay, much closer than she sensed she'd heard them before.
Something was unquestionably walking around the woods in the vicinity.
"Omigod!" she croaked, her vocal chords suddenly devoid of their power.
Brock's head rose at once, and the entire tent went deathly still. Misty's grip tightened more strongly around Togepi. There was no doubt about what she heard this time. She was as wide awake as she could possibly be, completely aware of her surroundings and her own condition, regardless of Brock's attempts to assure her that her fatigue was contributing to her trepidation. Those were footsteps, and they did not sound like that of a small creature's.
At that moment, Misty wanted nothing more than to transport herself out of that tent—be back at the house, buried under piles of heavy, warm blankets in her tiny bedroom, free from any degree of danger or the plagues of her own mind. Whether the source of those chilling footsteps was harmless or…or not, it was just too soon. She had ventured out of the house way sooner than she should have. She wasn't ready. She hadn't given herself enough time to recover from that damn movie.
And if matters couldn't be any worse, all of sudden Misty realized something in the midst of her consternation—not only was Ash utilizing the light from the video camera, but he was using the video camera itself. He was recording.
"Ash! Shut that off!" she hissed incredulously, throwing her hand over the light on the video camera. "Shut the camera off! Don't have any light!"
"Wh-what?" he faltered, yanking the camera from her reach. "Misty, stop—"
"No!" she practically whimpered. "You can't let it see we're here! All lights off!" She nearly choked as she inadvertently recited an exact quote from the accursed movie that had instilled this extreme derangement within her.
"Misty, Misty!" Brock grabbed at her flailing arm, attempting to settle her down. "Chill out, please! It's okay!"
"No, it's not okay!" Misty turned on him, her face warped with fear, panic, and furious resolve. "There's something out there and he's filming this! He's treating this like another stupid scene from his movie!"
"I am not!" Ash argued peevishly, yet the camera was still poised at his shoulder, still rolling, still shining into Misty's eyes.
"You are to!" accused Misty forcefully, his blatant fib now summoning anger amidst her hysteria. "It's bad enough you have the light on, but why do you have to film, too? This isn't a movie, this is real!"
"I know that, but so what? Everything's okay!" Ash blurted, unthinkingly contradicting his last avowal. "Whatever's out there isn't dangerous, Misty! Nothing's going to bother us, just like Brock said! Now, come on! These noises are perfect for the movie! Why can't I have a little fun?"
Aghast at his shocking display of ignorance and idiocy, Misty's jaw dropped. "This isn't fun, Ash! I am scared to death here!" She punctuated each word with biting emphasis. "There's something huge out there and you aren't taking this seriously!"
"What is there to take seriously? It's just some random pokémon walking around the woods!"
"How do you know it's just some random pokémon?" Misty cried in the most vicious whisper she could produce, not caring anymore how much of her phobic complex was showing through. "How do you know what's making that noise isn't really dangerous, couldn't hurt us?"
"Because there aren't any really dangerous pokémon near Pallet Town!" Ash yelled, his tone weighed down by a sense of entitlement in speaking of his home area. "You know that!"
"Yeah, well, that's what I always thought, too, until we ran into that ursaring!"
Misty didn't realize the impact of what she said until she managed to register the meaning behind Ash's suddenly dreadful gape. Just like that, things started to become clearer—frighteningly clearer. All of a sudden, something in this unsettling, puzzlingly eerie scenario finally made sense…and ironically enough, it rapidly made it all worse.
"Oh, crap," Ash uttered. His neck bobbed with a tremendously visible gulp. "You don't think…?"
Misty shook her head back and forth, the whites of her eyes showing. "Oh, my God…no."
Immediately, Ash killed the light of the camcorder, plunging the tent into darkness. Despite being what she wanted so urgently moments ago, the pitch black did nothing to ease Misty's nerves. While petrifying but preposterous thoughts of a skulking supernatural entity at last began to wane, the realism that set in was even worse than anything her crazy mind's eye could have concocted. Her heart hammered in her chest.
Please no…please not that!
Silence seized the tent as the memory of that frightening evening over a year ago weaved its way back into their minds. Misty's spine quivered as she recalled that scary couple of hours they spent wedged uncomfortably in a tiny sliver in the rock, cornered by a gargantuan, incensed ursaring, irritated by Ash's foolhardy attempt to bring home a capture—it—at the end of a long day. To Ash's credit, ursaring were extremely rare in the Kanto area, and it was hardly what he'd anticipated engaging in battle with a team of overworked, burnt-out Pokémon. But it had been a stupid move, not only putting their lives in danger but triggering one of the hugest, most awkward fights Misty had ever seen ensue among the normally congenial Ketchum family later that night.
A few more heavy footsteps sounded, and this time there was no denying that the source was inching its way closer and closer to the tent.
"Okay…yeah, that could totally be an ursaring," Brock whispered, barely perceptible. It was the absolute last thing Misty wanted to hear come from the eldest of the group, the one always in charge of keeping his two younger friends' silly worries and vivid imaginations at bay.
"It's okay, it's okay," Ash chanted, his voice drifting through the darkness with an unconvincing tremor of apprehension. "If…if we keep quiet and still…it won't bother us."
"It might be too late for that," Misty replied. She hated that she was being so pessimistic, but to her it regrettably seemed to be just that. After the camcorder light and talking and the jostling and not to mention their scents…
"No, no, not necessarily," said Brock. "Ursaring, they… It might not want anything to do with us. Ursaring don't always attack. Only if they're provoked by something. Only if we bother them in some way."
Misty was breathing noisily through her nose. "We're…we're not bothering it?"
"I can't see how," stammered Brock. "I mean, the—the only other thing that could get its attention is food, but we don't…"
Brock's words dropped off so suddenly, and the pause that hung heavily in the air that moment was the most terrible of all. Because it was right then that all three kids came to same awful realization.
"Do…do empty candy wrappers…g-give off a smell?" Ash finally asked reluctantly.
Robotically, experimentally, Misty released one hand from grasping her tiny egg pokémon for dear life and swept it around her periphery. A sharp intake of breath ached in her lungs as it brushed against a myriad of crinkling plastic wrappers, the product of her boyfriend's gorging and carefree sloppiness, all certainly emitting potent aromas of chocolate, nuts, and caramel—all scents that would certainly grab the attention of a curious scavenger.
Misty hadn't thrown up in quite a while, but she thought she just might at that very moment.
It was no use yelling at Ash for being his messy self. No use voicing any more of her fear. No use thinking she could possibly clear away all the scattered wrappers in the dark and smother the odor that had probably already reached the bear's sensitive nose.
Outside, nearer, more footsteps. Misty held her breath as she tried to listen closely, distinguish more concrete evidence of what they were dealing with, but heard nothing more. She didn't know what to make of the fact that a generally noisy creature was emitting no other sounds, though…she didn't know what to make of anything of this night anymore.
She just wanted it over, she wanted to be safe. She wanted someone to protect her.
"Ash," she whimpered, "do something."
Ash was quiet for a moment before replying, "I…should I?"
"We have to be ready in case we do," Brock advised.
"Okay," Ash replied seriously, and right away began contemplating what his prospective action might be. He reached out in search of Pikachu, and upon finding him, wrapped his hand around the mouse's chest steadily. He could feel Pikachu's alertness, and a much-needed rush of confidence slightly eased his anxiety. Pikachu was here for them. It unnerved Ash that he couldn't see anything, but he knew Pikachu would make up for the dark with more naturally acute senses.
One thing Ash was certain of, to his relief, was that this was definitely not going to be a repeat of that terrible previous encounter. It couldn't be—not with possession of his main starters, all rested, all primed, all with their respective powers assembling one wide-ranging, complete force.
His father's admonishment to never drain every one of his pokémon at one time was ever-present in his bank of unforgettable advice. Sensing Pikachu's keenness, even without his trainer's directive to prepare, made Ash wish Jay was there just then so he could thank him for that valuable guidance—and show him that he was indeed following it. There was nothing more fantastic than a pokémon ready for battle, ready to protect.
The only thing that frightened him was the initial action…if one was needed. Ash was not looking forward to making the first move from the tent to confront their mysterious visitor.
Misty wasn't, either.
"Don't go out there," she beseeched weakly, almost reading his mind. It sent a chill up Ash's spine.
"I…won't," he promised, biting his lip.
But when he heard another branch snap, this one sounding as though it was literally less than ten feet away, Ash's heart lurched. His promise was genuine, but how the heck was he going to scare this…whatever this was…away before it made the opening move? Could they even afford to give it that advantage?
If their worst fear was accurate and what they were indeed dealing with was a famished bear being lured to their rickety shelter by the prospect of sugary provisions, then he knew he couldn't just wait and risk that hazard—he needed to act.
"Okay," he whispered again, taking a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm his beating heart.
"What are you going to do?" Misty asked, and Ash could hear in her wobbly voice that she didn't quite believe his pledge. He didn't blame her distrust; he knew there were times in the past that his reckless self would have leapt out of that tent in a second to defend his friends with the conviction of having trusty pokémon. He knew better now—even if it did take a few foolish decisions along the way to cultivate that wisdom.
Another grinding of leaves, heavy and ominous, on the opposite side of the tent made all three of the kids' heads whip around, although they couldn't see their synchronized reaction. The presence was circling. Ash felt the vise-like grip that Misty inflicted on his arm, though, grasping him tight as if she feared he was about take off. It hurt—she was beyond terrified and didn't realize her strength—but he didn't act in response. Cringing, he let her keep a bruising hold of him, allowed her that bestowment of assurance he could barely manage in his own underlying terror.
He wished there was someone he could grab a hold of, but he quickly swallowed down that desire.
They're relying on me.
"It sounds like it's really close," stammered Brock.
"We have to attack," Ash announced. He tried to retain as much poise in his tone as he could. His hand slid from Pikachu's chest to a gentle grip on his ear, sending silent, trusting vibes to his comrade. He felt Pikachu shift readily in place accordingly.
"How?" Misty squeaked.
Ash considered his idea. Since he very rarely challenged a pokémon from hiding (and from their tent to boot), he wasn't quite sure how this was going to work out. He only saw one possible scenario, though, and decided to voice it.
"Simple"—although was it?—"as soon as we hear…the thing's footsteps by the door of the tent, I'm gonna rip it open and have Pikachu shoot a thundershock out. That oughta take care of whatever it is that's out there."
"I don't know about that, Ash," Brock said immediately. They could nearly hear him shaking his head in the dark. "I don't think that's the smartest idea."
"How come?" Ash sounded deflated and panicky all at once.
"Think about it," the older teen explained. "Having Pikachu just release a shock through such a small opening might not be as easy as you think. Considering how dark it is and—and how much of a crapshoot that would be. If we got any kind of kickback from that, Ash…could you imagine? It would be horrible."
"Oh, God," Misty gasped.
Cringing, Ash realized Brock had a very important point. Though Pikachu was pretty precise with his attacks, Ash couldn't recall him ever dealing with the current dim conditions. It was too much of a risk—especially since Pikachu would have to use a considerably strong thundershock to drive away a pokémon of ursaring's mass. Any kind of kickback, if it happened to hit one of the kids, would impair them enough to jeopardize their safety in the bear decided to strike back instead of retreat.
"Okay—okay, I won't use Pikachu. But you'll be here if we need you, buddy, all right?"
"Pikachu," the mouse complied.
Clasping a hand over his mouth, Ash contemplated his next alternative. Running down his limited familiarity of the intimidating pokémon, Ash frantically tried to think of a suitable opponent for ursaring with a brain hindered by tension.
The footsteps continued to orbit the tent. Misty could feel the hair on her neck stand on end as she felt the presence to her back.
"Ash, use Totodile," Brock hastily ordered.
"Totodile?" Ash's hand was already groping through his bag for Totodile's pokéball without even waiting for his friend's affirmation.
"I think water is good to use against ursaring. I don't know. We'll find out. At least we can move it away from the tent enough without it hurting any of us in the process. It's just water. And then you can go after it with Pikachu if you really need to."
Ash's heart began racing faster as Brock's suggestion took shape in his mind. That was doable. That might work. Finding Totodile's pokéball in his backpack in the dark was no easy task, but thankfully Ash was able to feel the different contours of the lure ball to identify it. Without delay, he pressed the release button and liberated the pokémon from his ball—
"Totood—!"
—and immediately clamped a hand around Totodile's snout to stifle the boisterous, excited creature.
"Totodile, Totodile, shhh, shhh, shhh!" Ash whispered madly, chancing getting accidently bitten by his hyperactive pokémon. "Quiet now! It's okay, it's okay!"
Not used to being apprehended in such a way after being released—and in the dark, besides—Totodile squirmed in Ash's hands and fought to tear his jaws from his trainer's grip. But Ash persevered, determined to keep Totodile from blowing their cover. Within a few seconds, he was able to calm Totodile down and the pokémon surrendered under his hold.
Maybe Brock didn't have the best idea (couldn't blame his decision-making in the heat of a hectic moment), but now that Totodile was out and subdued, Ash refocused on the task at hand.
"Easy, Totodile," Ash soothed, now cradling an arm around Totodile's scaly belly as well as retaining a firm but gentle hold on his jaws. He had faith the pokémon would cooperate with him, and sure enough, he could sense Totodile perk at his tone. "Easy. We need you, buddy."
"Ash, it's behind us again," Brock updated, his voice descending even lower. "It's still there."
Crap, Ash thought. It was becoming more and more likely they were going to have a real haphazard event on their hands in a matter of moments.
"Brock, take the camera," Ash quickly charged, grabbing the camcorder from his side and thrusting it in Brock's direction. It knocked hard into Brock's receiving hands and was awkwardly claimed. "If we need light, use it, okay?"
"Okay," Brock accepted.
"Misty?"
"…Yes?" she replied in a small, uncertain voice, wondering what in the world he was going to bid her to do.
"Get back."
Ash was able to make out the slit of the entrance of the tent and steadied himself before it on his knees, pointing a very compliant Totodile in its direction. Shakily, he took a deep breath. He didn't understand why he was so nervous—perhaps it had something to do with the unpleasant memories of his last encounter with an ursaring. Perhaps it had to do with the disorientating darkness, and that he had no idea what he was about to actually face. Or perhaps it had to do with the fact that his girlfriend and best friend were behind him, hinging on him to restore peace and security to their night.
It didn't matter how many times he had been placed in tight spots similar to this…a degree of apprehension was forever present. Quite a bit of stress constantly placed on the shoulders of a boy just entering his teenage years.
Luckily, Ash had a pretty strong water pokémon and electric pokémon currently at his disposal. And as the subtle stomping began to creep closer and closer to the entrance of the tent, Ash couldn't have been more thankful for that.
"Here we go," he announced to no one in particular. Reaching out to grab the folds of the entrance, he ground his teeth and waited for the exact moment he heard the footsteps approach the precise vicinity. He was positive his heart was about to rupture.
So were the rest of the tent's inhabitants.
When he heard the splinter of a branch literally a foot or two from his perspiring face, every muscle in his body seized. This was it.
"Okay, Totodile!" he shouted, so engaged in the stressful frenzy of the moment that he didn't hear Pikachu's sudden, frantic plea to 'wait!', "water gun!"
Simultaneously, Ash tore the tent open, and Totodile let loose his fierce torrent into the black unknown. Misty promptly screamed, the instinctive action freeing all the silent fear she had pent up for the last ten minutes, but it was no match for the cry all three kids heard as Totodile's attack indeed made successful contact with their mysterious prowler.
…And it definitely was not the angry roar of an ursaring.
Ash's eyes widened the instant he believed he recognized the startled, painful yelp outside the tent, and his worries were confirmed as Pikachu took off—not to continue Totodile's onslaught, but to rush to the aid of its innocent victim.
"What was that?" Misty exclaimed, out of breath from her shriek and hysterics.
"Brock, the light, the light!" Ash ordered. He staggered as he tried to rush out of the tent, falling into the soggy flaps of the tent and getting a slap to the face of wet, frigid canvas. When he finally managed to stumble out into the open, he was thrown off by the dark for only a moment before Brock emerged with the camcorder. It only took a single, disembodied groan for Brock to direct the light in the right direction and finally reveal the source of all the commotion.
"Dad?" Ash cried, more out of concern than surprise as he rushed over to the prone form of his father sprawled out flat on his back on a blanket of sticky leaves. Jay was haggardly pushing himself up by his arms as Ash slid to his knees beside him.
"Are you okay? I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't know it was you!" the boy began apologizing frenetically. Observing his father as best he could by the camcorder light, completely soaked, visibly hurting, and frightfully disoriented, Ash's heart raced. His hands hovered nervously over Jay, afraid to touch him, disturb him. "Are you okay?"
"Arrrrgh," Jay uttered a rumbling moan in reply. His eyes were clenched shut as he reached a hand behind his head, rubbing at it gingerly. Ash held his breath, panic settling in at the thought of Jay being seriously hurt. How bad had Totodile's attack been; what kind of force had he put behind it? He had no clue; he hadn't seen the water gun—it had been too dark.
Ash's stomach twisted as he realized he had just blindly sicced his pokémon on his father—and possibly injured him.
"Dad…?" he whimpered again, desperate for a more lucid response.
At last, Jay's eyes cracked open, and to Ash's shock, a shaky smile followed soon after.
"Shit, Ash," he managed a faltering laugh, "wazzat your totodile?"
Ash, taken aback, blinked a few times before replying, "Uhh…y-yeah…"
Jay grinned—a bit painfully—and dragged a hand up and across his face, wiping the water from his eyes and sweeping his sodden hair off his forehead. "That was awesome," he said, genuinely impressed.
"Awesome" was not the first word Ash would have used to describe what had just happened. But if that's what Jay wanted to dub it, then what could Ash say? The man who had just been pummeled by a surprise water-gun attack in the middle of the night had every right in the world to call it what he wanted.
Oh, God. He had water-gunned his father.
"Dad, are you okay?" Ash repeated silently, relentlessly, again.
Letting out another groan, Jay offered his arm out to Ash, soliciting assistance. His son quickly acquiesced and helped Jay up. After wobbling a few times unsteadily on his feet, restoring his equilibrium, Jay began to brush himself down, sending flicks of cold water in all directions. His clothes hung heavily from him, fully drenched, and getting a good look at himself, Jay threw his arms up and chuckled helplessly.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he conceded, taking it all in stride. "A little…wet. And cold. But I'm okay. I gotta say, I wanted a reaction out of you guys, but I didn't quite expect to get knocked on my ass like that. Wow."
"I'm sorry," Ash winced, hanging his head guiltily. "We didn't mean to attack you. We…" His voice lowered a bit, embarrassed. "We thought you were an ursaring."
Jay's eyes widened in incredulous amusement. "An ursaring?" He guffawed deafeningly. "Man, I know I gained weight recently, but I didn't think it was that bad!"
Ash could only gawk speechlessly. He was certainly glad that his dad appeared to be unharmed and not in the least bit upset with what just transpired, but it was taking him a moment to compose himself after such an alarming ordeal. His heart was still trying to return to its normal pace.
"So that's what you guys thought I was, huh? A pokémon?" Jay went on, a hint of disappointment in his tone. "Not for one moment did you think I was a witch?"
When Ash and Brock just exchanged a brief glance, Jay shook his head with a sad smile. "Man! What's happened to kids' imaginations nowadays? If I'd've heard all that when I was your age, I woulda thought there were Martians or zombies outside my tent. You kids are too smart for your own good.
"Wait, what am I saying?" Jay quickly contradicted before the kids had a chance to reply, throwing away his last statement with his wave of his hand and frown. "I should be glad you guys are on the ball like that, thinking like that! What if that really was a big, nasty-ass pokémon outside your tent? You did a good job, Ash. You almost killed your old man, but you did a good job."
Scratching the back of his head, Ash gave a tiny, culpable shrug. "I—I'm sorry."
"Would you stop apologizing?" demanded Jay frivolously. "Why should you be sorry for protecting yourself so well? Besides, I deserved it! You totally got me back for all the crap I pulled on you kids today. I'm almost surprised you didn't figure out it was me right away!" Jay smirked smugly. "Heh, guess I did a better job than I thought."
"But…but how did you do all of that?" Ash asked, his father's statement suddenly making him call to mind all the weird noises that had hassled the trio for the last half-hour. "We—we heard rocks and everything…"
Jay's damp face lit up. "Ahh, you did? Awesome! I wasn't sure how that was going to work out. It wasn't easy finding rocks with that crappy little flashlight I brought with me." Realizing that said flashlight was no longer in his possession, Jay quickly scanned the area around his feet to try to find it, but the camera's light was not sufficient enough. "Wherever it is now. Anyway, I tried to make it sound as Blair Witchy as possible. Guess I flunked with that. But that's what I get working with a bunch of smart, no-fun kids."
For the first time since the incident, Ash smiled faintly. "Well, it did sound scary, Dad. I did tape some of it!"
"You did!" Thrilled, Jay pumped his fists in the air a few times before he froze, his face falling rapidly. "Did you happen to tape the part with me sailing through the air like a sucker?" he eyed Brock sheepishly.
"Oh, uh…" Brock faltered, examining the camera curiously. "No, I guess not. I didn't even think to tape."
"Oh well, that's a real shame," Jay lamented in jest. He nudged Ash and purposely muttered loudly: "Don't let him film anymore. Can't trust him with key scenes, apparently."
Ash giggled. "Well, he had an excuse. We were scared! You did do a good job freaking us out. Misty especially! She was going real nuts…"
Trailing off upon mentioning Misty, Ash suddenly realized he hadn't heard a single peep from her since their escapade had ended. A bit of panic rushing through his veins as he recalled just how badly she'd dealt with the incident, Ash rapidly turned to the tent to locate her.
"Misty—"
When he caught sight of her, his words froze abruptly on his tongue. She had emerged from the tent like the rest of them, but hadn't ventured far from it. Perched precariously in the entrance, her arms curled around herself and an edgily flummoxed togepi, the young girl was the perfectly deplorable picture of someone totally and terribly unglued. At once, Ash's considerate nature kicked into gear, but before he had a chance to even so much as utter a word to her, his father acted.
"Aww, Misty," Jay sighed sympathetically. He moved past Ash and Brock and knelt carefully before the withdrawn girl.
"Hey," he greeted her, soft and mild. When she didn't so much as lift her eyes from where they were directed at the ground, his shoulders drooped guiltily. "I'm sorry about that, Misty. I…I didn't know I was going to freak you out that badly."
His apology all but fell on deaf ears. Misty didn't reply; her blank stare still refused to even acknowledge him. Jay frowned and bit his lip.
"Yeah, I guess I should have remembered how much that movie really bothered you, huh? Maybe this was going a little too far? I should've quit while I was ahead after the Simmons house, huh?"
Ah, there it was. The tiniest of shrugs, but those sorts of gestures never got past Jay. He couldn't believe how disturbed the teenager before him appeared. Though he couldn't view her face too well in the deficient lighting, there was no denying the distress, fatigue, and unhappiness Misty was generating. At that moment, Jay felt like a grade-A jackass. He'd meant to have fun, but never intended on terrifying any of the kids so severely.
Oh, Del, he thought, trying to humor himself in his remorse, I've sure got a petrified kid on my hands, but it ain't the one you were expecting!
"Hey, hey, how 'bout this!" he said eagerly, trying to lighten her mood. He thrust his soggy arm out to her, presenting his shoulder mere inches from her reticent form. She shied away slightly at the startling movement. "Here, Misty. If it'll make you feel better, you can give me a punch. Go on, sock me as hard as you can in the arm. I'm a jerk, I deserve it."
Not too unexpectedly, Misty didn't comply. She hardly took a second glance at his outstretched arm. Jay wasn't sure if it was because she didn't feel comfortable with a proposition so strange or if she was actually so upset with him she couldn't even grant him that acknowledgement.
"Come on," he egged her on, giving her a crooked, little smile. "You know how many times my son probably wanted a chance at this? You're wasting a very rare, golden opportunity here, kiddo."
Rarity or not, Misty wasn't going to bite. Even his beguiling voice wasn't going to do much to perk her up. True, the thought of giving Jay's arm a slug mighty enough to express all the infuriation she felt was enviable. For the first time in their short acquaintance, Misty felt genuine resentment for Ash's dad, a man whose presence she normally enjoyed without any sort of reservation. Even though she was undoubtedly relieved they weren't in any real danger, she was far from amused at Jay's cruel excuse for a joke. But she knew giving in to a rather rash and silly demand for retribution wasn't going to solve anything. Feeling her eyes unwillingly sting with tears, finally too defeated to even try to unwind for the sake of his efforts, Misty simply shook her head.
His face falling resignedly, Jay withdrew his arm. He felt so bad for the poor girl and so disgusted with himself. "Oh, Misty," he exhaled, the ache for atonement intensifying, "what can I do to make it up to you?"
In spite of her enmity, Misty picked up her head, and her eyes, moister than Jay's cold and clammy socks, met waveringly with his. "Just take me home," she begged. Her voice cracked pitiably. "I want to go home. Take me. Please?"
Pausing momentarily to process the weary capitulation in her voice, Jay quickly gave her a surprised but kindly smile. "Sure. Yeah," he replied matter-of-factly. "Of course."
"Oh, c'mon, Misty!" Ash suddenly whined, shattering the quiet fragility of the moment. He rushed over as Jay was rising to his feet and holding out a helping hand to Misty. "What do you mean you want to go home?"
"Ash..." Jay warned calmly.
"I mean I want to go home," Misty reiterated firmly, not at all prepared to argue. Her speech still trembled but her reasoning was solid. "I'm done."
"Aw, don't be done!" Ash wailed, holding out his arms. "What about our campout tonight? You're just gonna leave? We were having such a good time!"
"Ash," Misty growled, stunned at his remark, "I was not having a good time, and you know that!"
"But everything's okay now!" Determined to change her mind and not put an end to their adventurous night, Ash pursued her as she dipped back into the tent to retrieve her bag. He nearly got bowled over as she emerged a second later, none too considerately. "Everything was okay! Just like I said! We were never in any danger! It was exciting! Please don't leave?"
"No." Misty tromped over to where Jay was awaiting her, his shoulders hunched as the chill from Totodile's water-gun was finally starting to settle in his bones.
Ash was relentless, desperate, however. "But I got such great stuff for our movie, and now that we're all awake maybe we can do another cool scene—"
It was that unfortunately-timed suggestion which ultimately made her snap. Whirling around, the savage glower Misty shot Ash practically made him reel ten feet backward. "Ash, shut up about the stupid movie!" she screamed, just about doubled-over in fury. She didn't care in the least if Jay heard her tirade about his brainchild. "I don't want to hear about it anymore, you hear me? I don't wanna do it! I never wanted to do it! And especially not tonight after all that! So just shut the hell up about the goddamn thing!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Jay urgently jumped between the two teens and parted them with outspread arms. He knew how readily Misty flew off the handle and wasn't about to allow any more bodily harm to take place that night. "Take it easy!" he soothed, his voice easing the wheezing girl back. "Chill. No one's filming any movies tonight, all right? It's okay."
Hasty averting or not, Misty's eruption certainly did the trick in sealing the fate of the evening. She ducked her head and turned away, her face constricting as she labored to curb her tears. Brock looked as jaded as could be. And Ash was motionless, downright dumbfounded by his girlfriend's outburst. Right then and there, Jay knew the fun was indeed over.
"In fact, I think it's probably best if we all packed up and went home."
"What?" Ash gasped, snapping out of his stupor. "Why?"
Jay sighed. "Because it's been an eventful night, that's why. You're wound up, Misty's upset, I'm soaking wet and freezing my ass off. And if I'm bringing Misty home, I might as well bring you all home. You know Mom'd make me go out and get you otherwise."
"But Dad—"
"We'll come," Brock interjected decisively, much to Ash's mounting chagrin. "We'll start getting the stuff together. Take Misty home. Ash and I'll be right behind."
"Brock!" Ash griped. But Brock disregarded him, setting the video camera down in a place where he could see to disassembling the tent.
"Ash, it's okay," Jay mollified tiredly, giving his son's arm a comforting shake. He understood Ash's vexation, but he was becoming a tad tetchy. Having a miserable girl to usher home, a wife to explain himself to, and striving to endure the wicked chill and numbing twinge wracking his body wasn't exactly fostering patience. "You'll be camping out again. Tonight's just not a good night anymore. Come home with your girlfriend now, okay?"
His shoulders slumping, Ash grudgingly resigned. "Fine."
Jay smirked a little. "Don't be blue; you had a good night—at my expense. Help Brock pack up now—you'll get it done real quick. Maybe if you get home in time you'll get to see Mommy chew me out for the condition you put me in." He flinched playfully. "That'll be the scariest moment of the night."
"Here, you'll need this," Brock said, offering Jay one of the group's flashlights.
"Thanks, Brocko. All right, see you guys back at home. Don't get lost and have Mom send out a search party. Because that will probably be me."
With that, Jay put a hand reassuringly on Misty's shoulder and began to lead the girl back out in the direction of the street, a couple dozen yards away. Before they disappeared through the surrounding underbrush, Misty glanced over her shoulder and she and Ash exchanged an uncomfortable glance, so brief but so full of crushing emotion. Ash couldn't help but notice how heartbroken she looked, despite her outward ferocity. Misty couldn't believe how much Ash looked like he just didn't get it.
Underneath it all, they knew each other too well. Their suppositions were both correct.
"This sucks!" Ash barked as soon as Jay and Misty left the vicinity, giving the remains of their campfire a good kick and sending burnt kindling and ashes scattering. Pikachu and Totodile retreated a bit, startled.
"Ash, come on," Brock groaned at his friend's petulance as he rolled up the last of the sleeping bags. He had already practically cleared away half the campsite. "Don't make such a big deal out of it. Tell you the truth, I'm done, too. This was not exactly the most peaceful night ever. I'm looking forward to getting back home, where I can actually get some sleep."
"Well, I'm not. I thought this was a pretty fun night! I mean, it was scary for a while there, but now that everything's okay, it was really exciting. I don't see why we have to go home! Why can't we just spend the rest of the night out here?"
Brock didn't respond to Ash's protest for a moment as he began to collapse the tent's frame. But after struggling slightly with the supports and realizing he wasn't going to get much in the way of help from his brooding friend, he let the tent go and turned to Ash, frowning.
"Because Misty is upset," he elucidated pointedly. He knew this was going to sound stern, but Ash needed to understand what was taking place. "Don't you see that? She was practically out of her mind. That alone should make you want to quit and take her home yourself."
"But everything turned out okay!" Ash maintained.
"Yes, I know, but that doesn't matter," Brock emphasized. "What matters is you taking into consideration her feelings in situations like this. I could see if this was a simple conflict of interests, but it wasn't. She was terrified and unhappy about everything that went on tonight. Do you want to see her like that?"
"Of course not!" Ash seemed almost appalled at that question, which Brock was pleased to observe.
"Well, forcing her to stay out here for the rest of the night would have done that. It was obvious she wasn't going to feel better anytime soon."
Ash didn't say anything to that; his head drooped and he looked off to the side as he considered Brock's words.
"I know it's not what you want," Brock continued, a bit more evenly, "but sometimes those are the sacrifices you have to make in a relationship. You'll both have to make sacrifices along the way…but tonight, I think we need to give Misty a break. She needs to go home and chill out. And I think you need to be there, too, to support her. Let her know you care."
Ash remained speechless, but it wasn't out of bitterness or contempt at being called out for his actions. He knew everything Brock was relaying to him was correct and sensible—and he knew that deep down, he knew all this stuff already—it just delivered a bit more of an impact when coming from his friend. Despite his track record with women and his unsuccessful, obtuse ways of getting their attention, Brock sure knew what he was talking about sometimes.
It was a shame he couldn't get a control of his hormonal behaviors—Brock would make a better boyfriend than him any day of the week, Ash lamented to himself.
"And I think…that maybe we should lay off the movie for a while, too," said Brock, bracing himself as he didn't want to add insult to injury in his oration to Ash. Surprisingly, Ash took a noticeably deep, disappointed breath, but didn't object, so Brock justified: "She didn't like it from the beginning and she sure as hell doesn't like it now."
"…I know…" Ash mumbled. Misty had made that quite clear. It did make him feel bad, but he realized Brock was right. Pushing it on her any more in the near future—especially that night—would be nothing short of mean.
"So…what do you say you help me pack up the rest of this stuff and we get home?" Brock asked hesitantly, praying there wasn't much more he needed to say to win over Ash's stubbornness.
It was getting more blustery and cold, feeling later and darker—or at least it seemed that way as Ash gazed at the sad, lonely remnants of their campout, disheveled and squelchy and unfriendly. Or perhaps it simply had to do with the prominent lack of someone very dear to him, her absence burrowing a hole in his heart deeper than any of the letdowns he'd experienced that eventful evening.
Without Misty, it wasn't much of an evening at all.
"…Okay," he agreed at last.
After finally recalling a tired, abnormally hushed Totodile and giving Pikachu a brief pat to assure all was okay, Ash proceeded to listlessly gather their damp belongings as Brock finished up on the tent. They worked silently. While Brock refrained out of sheer exhaustion, Ash couldn't possible talk and make sense of all the various thoughts pinballing around in his head at the same time.
He began working faster, though he wasn't sure why. Everything seemed shrouded by a massive fog of dazedness. He wanted to go home as much as he didn't. He wanted to see Misty as much as he was afraid to. It even went as far in nonsensicality as wanting to see Mom's reaction to Dad's state as much as he hoped she just slept through their arrival.
This incident, he realized, was something he'd need to contemplate long and hard for some time to come. Because at that very moment, Ash found himself totally engulfed with confusion and abashment unlike any he'd ever felt before. He was finding his personal wants and needs in an inadvertent head-to-head battle with his feelings and responsibilities toward his girlfriend, and to his dismay…Ash didn't like it. He knew what the respectable thing to do was, what the altruistic move he needed to make was—but something was holding him back. Why was it so hard when he knew in his heart that which was so right?
Ash's head began to throb.
Maybe he was just done for the night, too.
TO BE CONTINUED…
I'm gonna say right off the bat that this probably—make that definitely—won't be updated in two weeks. ^_^;; Although I do have a bit more time now that the racing season is in hiatus and I don't need to spend a huge chunk of my free time decorating/shopping for Christmas (all of which I love, but I felt so terribly guilty about not devoting as much time to this fic as I would have liked). I do certainly hope the two-month wait was at least somewhat worth it and you enjoyed this angst-filled chapter of petrified Mistys, clueless Ashes, fed-up Brocks, and assaulted Jays. I greatly appreciate your reading, and as always, comments and construction criticism are adored! :)
Happy New Year!