FOOL, BOY
Chapter Two
He had done it.
He had climbed the tallest mountain, pushed aside his fears and stood proudly at the top, head lost in the clouds.
But he had yet to fly.
Grimacing, Gary looked down at the scroll he held in his damp palms and sighed as the wind beat about his hair. He sat slumped on the same stump as he was exactly three days ago in a small, dimly lit clearing, amongst a forest of thick, dark trees. Their branches leered towards him and the smell of pine lingered in the air.
He was hot and fidgeting, despite the fact that the air was nippy and it looked like it was going to start pouring with rain at any second. 'All for the better if it does,' he thought miserably, 'at least then I wouldn't have to give this sorry excuse for literature to Dawn; to Ash.'
Stressed with worry, he ran a shaking hand through his auburn hair and sighed, tempted to tighten his grip into a fist and claim that he had lost the poem. She would believe that too.
Unfortunately, he heard the loud crunching of boots on branches before he had the opportunity to put his half-baked plan into action. Shadows cast by towering trees crept towards him as he hesitantly rose to stand, turning unhurriedly to face the source of the noise - only to be assaulted by a flying thing, for a lack of better description.
"What the-", Gary, eyes immediately wide with shock, fell to the ground rather ungracefully. "Get off of me! Who on earth do you think you ar-"
"Gary!" From the sound of her voice he could easily tell that his assaulter was Dawn, and he berated himself – really, who else could have it been? He was given no time to recover from his dazed state before she perched herself on his lap, grabbing the collar of his black shirt and shaking him with uncontained excitement. His head flew back and forth. "Have you got it? Are you done? This is amazing, I'm so-"
"Excited? Gee, I can't tell," Gary winced as his back sparked with pain. Disgruntled, he unceremoniously pushing Dawn back onto the dewy grass, but she only pouted for a moment before leaping to her feet, with the abundance of an energetic Pachirisu. 'No wonder they make such good friends,' he thought, rolling his eyes and using the stump to help him stand.
Whilst hastily brushing down his shirt, he spotted the formidable roll of paper lying in a nearby patch of bright daisies, having been flung from his grip as he was unsuspectingly tackled. Gary persuaded himself to push any doubts he had to the side and gingerly picked it up before thrusting it towards Dawn's eager hands. "Take it quick, before I change my mind." He faced the ground with his eyes tightly shut. The poem was softly taken from his weak grip.
A few moments passed. Surprised by the returned silence, Gary took back his hand and looked up at the younger girl's face.
Dawn had the gift hovering in front of her nose with the delicate tips of her fingers and was admiring it with awe as its reflection shone in her big, blue, round eyes. An uncontrollable smile pulled at her lips and she unexpectedly squealed, jumping up and down with excitement. Her deep navy hair followed the movements of her body as the hem of her dress flew up and down, revealing the skin of her upper thigh.
In Gary's opinion, she appeared to be performing some sort of weird tribal dance.
He raised an eyebrow and wondered how on earth Brock put up with not only Ash, but this apparent psycho as well. Evidently, Brock wasn't completely sane either.
He'd always had his suspicions - the way he fell to pieces around cute girls? Totally not normal.
Gary's attention was drawn back to Dawn as her squealing became comprehensible. "I can't believe I am holding an intentionally written poem constructed by the, the Gary Oak! This is possibly the single, most important moment that I shall ever have in my petty and insignificant life!" Dawn held the poem in the air as if it were the Holy Grail.
Gary sweatdropped, raising a hand. "Sorry to interrupt the 'single, most important moment of your petty and insignificant life', but what about the Grand National?" The blue-haired, crazy person turned towards him dramatically and put a finger to his lips, leaning in close. He froze.
"Hush, you big amazing, amazing, amazing person. Nobody, including you, can taint this unmatched piece of inspirational work." Her breath ghosted over his lips, their noses almost touching. Gary shrank away from her finger and decided that it may be safer for his physical – and mental, perhaps - health to let her get on with her worshipping routine. "Now all that remains is to reveal unto the world the love confined within this series of complex and beautiful words, lines and stanzas," Dawn spoke theatrically while unfurling the crumpled sheet.
"Dawn, look, it's really not that good. My Grandfather was a Pokémon poet, not a love poe-"
"EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Gary was swiftly, and unbelievably loudly, interrupted by a fan-girlish squeal being emitted from the now head-shaking Dawn. Blushing profusely, her eyes were squeezed shut and her hands gripped the helpless sheet with delight.
Gary decided that yes, she would fit in well with a tribal celebration.
As the spectacle continued, he began to wish for some small miracle. Perhaps someone loved him enough to cause the paper to tear itself into tiny, miniscule, illegible pieces, or to make it spontaneously combust – preferably burning Dawn in the process. Unfortunately for Gary, no such thing happened - it was rather unsatisfying, he thought. What was the point of looking good when nobody loved you for it?
Gary sank back down onto his stump and dropped his head onto his palms. In an effort to prevent himself from going deaf, he moved his hands over his ears and resorted to glaring at the oblivious bouncing young girl.
"This is just too cute for words – it's so lovely and adorable and I could read it over and over and over and ove-"
"If it's too cute for words, why are you still going on about it?" Gary muttered under his breath.
"-nd over and over and over and over and over an-"
"I mean, it's not even that good."
"-ver and over and over and over and over and ov-"
"Grandpa probably could do better, in all honesty."
"-d over and over and over and over and over and-"
"Over?"
"Exactly!"
"Well, who knew?"
Dawn approached Gary and pat him repeatedly on the head, smiling all the while as Gary scowled. "Oh, you're so cute. Ash will love this for sure! And the best part – he won't even know it's from you!" Gary frowned and ruffled his hair back to its original, artistic style, glaring at Dawn all the while, before a movement in the foliage caught his eye.
His sight quickly focused on a point beyond Dawn, and he cocked his head as he tried to see into the darkness. He could hear something now, too – a rustle from the trees opposite him. The leaves were shaking hazardously as something attempted to breach the branches they hung from. He stood up.
"There's a-there's a…thing. In there."
Dawn immediately noticed his change in demeanour. "A thing? Gary, are you okay? Uh, hello?" She waved a hand in front of his unresponsive face before turning to look behind her.
She was met with an amusing sight.
"Dawn is that you? And – and is that Gary?"
"Oh, Brock! We didn't hear you coming!" Dawn skipped over to a puzzled and exhausted Brock as he semi-tripped out of the forage, covered in an array of twigs, soil and leaves.
Gary breathed a sigh of relief.
"How could you not have?" The breeder stood tall, panting slightly before brushing a hand over his eyes, "I was crashing all over the place – it's pitch black in there!"
"Oh, that's funny, because I can see the path that you made through the trees quite clearly," Gary commented, peeking over Dawn's shoulder. "In fact, it looks like you had your eyes closed the whole way." He plucked a twig out of Brock's now-chaotic hair, which looked like it had been temporarily inhabited by a group of party-mad stick insects.
"Trust me," Brock started brushing down his clothes, "I had my eyes wide open the whole time. I would have fallen in that massive black lake back there otherwise." Brock turned away, muttering about a rampaging Gyarados and thousands of Magikarp, leaving Gary and Dawn staring down the 'pathway'. They turned to each other, confused.
"I thought that there were no lakes here," Dawn whispered to Gary. He nodded.
"There aren't – it's just dense woodland." Gary grinned. "It looks like someone needs to open his eyes."
"He always told me they were open!" Dawn exclaimed loudly before Gary tackled her to the ground in a panic, "I knew I shouldn't have believed him, especially when he nearly walked off of a cli-mm!" Brock turned towards them as Gary fought with the struggling trainer.
"What was that?"
"Nothing!" Gary yelled with a hand over Dawn's mouth.
"Okay, but seriously," Brock pointed at the tree beside Gary, "no tackling girls to the ground, unless it's Nurse Joy or something." Gary looked unimpressed.
"Brock, first of all, although Dawn is definitely not Nurse Joy," Gary faintly heard Dawn protesting against the lack of recognition as a true woman, "the situation required this action." The Pokémon Breeder raised an eyebrow at the tree. "And second of all," Dawn managed to break free, glaring at Gary and stalking towards Brock, "you are pulling faces at a tree." Gary waved and Brock looked over, slightly surprised. He then frowned before holding his chin in the crook of his hand and analysing the young researcher.
"Well, your hair does bare resemblance to a tree, so I'm not the one to blame," Brock shrugged as Dawn too casted a critical eye over Gary's apparently plant-like choice of hairstyle.
"I agree," she finally spoke after several minutes of contemplation. Gary blinked.
"Is that it?"
"Mmm… Yep," Dawn went to pat his hair once more but he swatted her hand away impatiently before she had the chance to touch one tiny strand and with a scowl, he flopped back to sit on the stump behind him. Gary could not help but wonder why such an airhead existed – and why was he the fool that asked for her assistance?
He sighed, putting his face in his hands. He was becoming far more accustomed to this action than he should be.
"Anyway," Brock interrupted his demoralising thoughts, "why were you talking about Ash? I heard Dawn squealing, so don't try and pretend you don't know," Brock punctuated with a glare at Gary.
Gary ignored him, instead looking towards Dawn. Hopefully, her brain may work adequately for once and she may not spill everything.
"Oh, Brock! Gary wrote a totally cute poem for Ash confessing his undying love to him!" Dawn giggled with glee, showing off the poem proudly, and Gary gaped at the stupid, stupid girl.
It was at times like these that he wished he was Misty. Misty, equipped with her giant, violent, oh-so lovely mallet.
Unfortunately, due to his lack of such wishes, he was forced to glare evilly at the painfully oblivious girl instead. It did not do half as much damage as he had hoped.
Brock paused for a moment, thinking upon the newfound knowledge that Gary, Ash's past-rival and present-person-that-they-don't-see-all-that-often, was madly in love with Ash, dimwit of the century and the once-bane of Gary's existence. Also, Gary had written a poem. To Ash.
"Gary, I don't think Ash is culturally educated enough to understand a riddle, let alone a love poem," Brock stated, looking at Gary thoughtfully as he scanned the sheet held before him.
Gary glared back with 'no-shit, Sherlock' plastered over his face before replying, "You think I don't know that? Anyway, it was her idea." He threw his thumb in Dawn's direction, causing Brock to stifle a laugh.
"And you listened to her?"
"Oh, God, I know. Don't remind me."
"It's been one of those days, huh?"
"Shut-up, Brock."
The breeder stopped talking and looked away from the fuming researcher.
The pair came to a silence as Gary fumed on his stump and Dawn skipped around in the background, reading the poem to herself for the seventh time.
"'Sorry can't fix the things that I've done to you, but believe me Ash when I tell you this – I love you.' Aww, this is so cute! I want to cry! But I won't because then I won't be able to read it again, which I have to do! 'I understand this must be strange, to receive a poem with no name, but it is a love poem nonetheless, one in which I can confess.'" Dawn babbled on as Gary blushed brightly and groaned with shame.
Internally, Gary felt like crying. How on earth was he supposed to woo the love of his life with a piece of literature that could barely come under the genre of 'poetry'? Through the cloud of distraught hanging morbidly over his head, Gary felt something nudging his shoulder.
He turned to growl at the intruder, but was instead rewarded with a mouth full of yellow fur.
Gary coughed and spluttered and stuck his tongue out before spitting on the ground. He may love Pokémon, but that did not mean he wanted to taste their fur.
"Pika?" Bright glossy eyes peered up towards his face as red cheeks sparked with barely withheld electricity. Gary sighed with exasperation.
"Fabulous. Now the whole gang is here. Minus the idiot."
"Says the one who loves the idiot," Brock muttered, right before the protective Pikachu let loose an electric attack on his Master's secret admirer. Needless to say, Gary's artistic hair now looked like the back end of a Mareep, causing the small Pokémon sitting on his shoulder great amusement. Gary looked far less amused.
Meanwhile, Brock was still picking twigs from his hair and Dawn was still reading the poem to herself 'over and over and over'. Pikachu was relaxing, content, on the frazzled researcher's jittery shoulder.
Gary, although still annoyed, was now quite restless. With little care, he brushed the electric mouse off of its perch before getting to his feet, causing it to land in a disgruntled heap next to the stump. Before it could strike Gary with another attack, however, it was gathered up by Dawn, who had taken a few seconds from absorbing the poetry on the now-quite weary looking piece of paper.
Gary put a hand over his mouth and the other in his pocket as he glanced at the paper being clutched by Dawn and pointed at by Pikachu. For once, bar the small noises from the Pokémon, it was peaceful in the little clearing.
Gary could clear his mind of the idiots in his presence and think about whether this was the right thing to do. In contemplation, he thought that although a poem was a good way to infer feelings towards another individual, it would not turn out to be so effective if the poem was not any good, or, as it was in his case, the secret admirer was not named – or the recipient was denser than a Psyduck. They could be going in circles for ages.
Gary wanted a straight answer – he certainly did not want to be led on or, God forbid, forced to hang around his unbeknownst crush like a love-sick Lillipup. Either go for it, or cut yourself loose: Gary believed in self-preservation and did not like the idea of acting the fool.
He shrugged; that was Ash's job. Their relationship, if you could call it that, would have fallen to bits long ago if that had been the case. He liked Ash, he truly did. He liked him despite his idiotic tendencies, that deep-down he thought were very cute indeed, and regardless of the fact that he lacked common sense and certainly was not the brightest of the bunch, Gary found Ash overall to be just lovely; kind-hearted, even; always optimistic. Several things that Gary Oak knew he himself was not – not that he would ever admit it, of course. He liked the image of perfection that was often compared to him in the past and if that had been and gone, then, well, he supposed he could settle for the persona of sexiness.
Looking over towards his companions, he reached a decision: there was no way on Earth that he was going to give that poem to Ash. Gary Oak was going to do this face to face, personally, where Ash had nowhere to run.
Also, where Ash had no chance to formulate ideas about Lance writing him a love poem – that was the last thing he wanted.
Approaching Dawn, he wondered why he didn't do this earlier. He would have felt far more enlightened several days ago, for better or for worse, if the matter had simply been dealt with and pushed aside.
"Dawn?" Gary reached the pair relaxing in the quiet, sprawled across the grass. Neither of them were talking nor responded to his calling, so Gary coughed a bit to get their attention. Dawn languidly opened a lazy eye and gazed at him, before sighing in satisfaction.
"Yes?" She pushed herself into a sitting position and stretched, yawning with her mouth stretched wide. Gary fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt.
"I'm not going to give the poem to Ash." He spoke quickly, aware of the inevitable effect his statement would have on the girl. Dawn was devastated, looking as if she were about to burst into tears.
"But it was so cute and ador-"
"Dawn," Gary interrupted, putting a finger to his lips in a hushing motion, which she automatically abided to, "I'm not going to give the poem to Ash," he repeated, "but I am going to tell him that I love him - face to face." He sat down on the grass opposite Dawn to watch her reaction closely.
She bit her lip, looking at him and then off into the trees. "I think," she started, "I think that as much as I love that poem, which is a lot," Dawn illustrated with her arms stretched out wide, "you should do what you feel is right for you. Even if it involves the waste of a cute and adorab-"
"Yeah, okay, thanks Dawn. That's all I wanted to hear," Gary laughed nervously, slightly worried at the level of love Dawn seemed to have for that poem. Dawn sighed and played with the hem of her white hat.
"You know, I said you should do that in my first plan, but you dismissed it because you said you would die. And you called me an idiot…"
"I know, Dawn." Gary inwardly shrivelled under the slight glare from the girl. He felt the need to apologize, "I'm sor…so…sor…" Okay, so he almost felt the need to apologize, but that was not how Gary Oak rolled; not at all. "You know what, just give me the poem." Gary held his hand out expectantly, awaiting the small roll of paper.
His hand remained empty, and Dawn blinked quizzically at it.
"Dawn?" Gary repeated, gesturing with his open hand "The poem?"
Dawn smiled. "Oh, that?"
Gary let his hand drop to the soil.
"I gave that to Pikachu to take back to Ash. I attached a note too, saying that Brock and I say 'hi' and we'll be back soon." Well, at least his name wasn't on there. "Oh, I also put that Gary says 'hi' too, and I'm sending him a poem from some guy I met in a cape."
Guess he spoke too soon, huh.
"Dawn, you idiot!" Gary leapt to his feet and began to pace, pulling at his hair in frustration. "How can you be so, so," he could not finish, so he wildly gestured at the frozen girl instead.
"But I didn't say it was from you," she whined, "I said it was from a man in a cape."
"Now he's really going to think it's from Lance!"
"Who's Lance?"
"Never mind, Dawn!"
Gary abruptly stopped his frantic pacing and ran his hands through his hair, yanking on it harshly and wishing, wishing he was not there right now and that he hadn't spoken to Dawn and that Pikachu wasn't on its way to its lovely, oblivious, innocent Master with a roll of paper that was going to change everything.
"Gary?" Broke said quietly with a solemn expression, not wanting to frustrate the hampered boy even more than necessary. Gary peeked at the breeder through his fingers, resisting the urge to kick something. "Maybe you should just go and talk to him now. I think this is your moment," Brock smiled encouragingly and Gary scowled in response.
"And how would you know when a moment is, considering you've never had one. Except with Professor Ivy – I heard about that. She told me some very interesting thi-"
"Uh, that name. Don't say that name," Brock dropped to his knees in pain and hid his face in the palms of his hands. Gary smirked.
"Ah, I also heard about this. Very funny, but I thought you were over it - apparently not." Gary skipped slowly over to Brock, all the while singing "Brocky and Ivy sitting in a tree…" in an incredibly childish manner, as Brock groaned on the floor, begging him to stop.
Dawn smirked. It appeared that the situation called for her assistance and her assistance it shall receive. Ah, how she had always wanted to do this - especially to Gary.
Perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, she drew out an oversized mallet from her bag and proceeded to thump Gary around the head.
For the second time that day, Gary flew to the ground with all the grace of a floundering Magikarp. Shocked, he touched his fingers to the side of his head before leaping to his feet, yelling at the astonished girl. "What the Hell was that for? You could have killed me! I can't believe you actually thought that was a good-" Gary paused as he peeked behind Dawn, where she was hiding the instrument of mortal doom. He narrowed his eyes. "Dawn, where did you get that mallet?"
"Oh, this?" Dawn tossed the tool up into the air and caught it with ease, giggling. "I got it out of my bag."
Gary face-palmed. Just when he thought she couldn't get any worse.
"Okay, Dawn, before that. Who gave you the mallet?" Gary spoke slowly and loudly, as if he were talking to a temperamental child. Dawn's eyes sparkled, and she smiled madly.
"May gave it to me!" Gary frowned. May?
"Okay, and exactly what was May doing with a mallet?" Dawn placed her hand on her chin, thinking deeply.
"Um, what did she say? Oh, all the girls who travel with Ash have to be peacekeepers," Dawn shook the mallet, "and this is our weapon of peacekeeping! I didn't want to use it, but I think you needed it." Gary glared at her, and Dawn shrank under his gaze, admitting to her small white lie. "Okay, so maybe I just wanted to use it for the first time."
"Dawn," Gary warned, wanting the answer that the girl knew she was going to have to give.
"Oh, I just wanted to use it on you, okay? I can't believe I used it over your head – wait, is your head okay? I didn't knock all of the poetry out, did I? Oh, what have I done?" Dawn radically changed emotions, slumping down onto the grass with a distraught face, small tears glistening in her eyes. "I destroyed the best poet ever! What was I thinking?" At that moment, Dawn began to wail loudly and streams of tears ran down her face.
Gary stood there amidst the mess of his love-life, a crying Dawn and a mourning Brock, with not a clue how to handle the situation. Awkwardly, he knelt down on one knee to pat Dawn on the head, "I'm okay, Dawn. You didn't knock all the poetry out of me – I'm just a little, um, dizzy. That's all."
Dawn wiped her eyes, peering up at the stressed researcher. "You're definitely okay?" She asked quietly. Gary nodded in reply, not expecting the emotional flip the girl pulled next. She leapt up and bowled him over in a huge hug, squealing with delight and nuzzling his chest. Gary winced. Again.
"I'm so sorry and I'm glad you're okay and I love you, I love you, I love you-"
"Dawn, I thought you loved Zoey."
"I do, but I love you so much!"
He sighed and pushed Dawn off of him, standing to his feet.
"So," he began, "who gave May the mallet?" Dawn remained on the ground and played with her hair for a minute, all traces of tears gone.
"Who did she say, who did she say? All I remember was May mentioning that she was a bit scary."
Scary?
"And ginger."
Oh.
Gary closed his eyes and smirked. Yep, that certainly sounded like Misty.
He noticed that the coordinator was pulling a strange face and her cheeks were slowly turning red.
"Okay, Dawn," he motioned for the girl to stop straining her brain – he didn't want to be the cause of any more damage.
Suddenly, he remembered – Pikachu.
Running a hand through his hair, he apologized to Dawn. "Sorry to abandon you like this, but I have to go and track down Pikachu. Hopefully it got lost, I guess." Gary shrugged, eager to escape, but Dawn suddenly leapt at him again, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. Gary fumbled, unsure as to what to do with his hands.
"Good luck, Gary. Aw, you'll be so cute together," she whispered gently. Gary blushed slightly, awkwardly hugging her back as he imagined Dawn's fantasies about himself and Ash.
"Thanks, I think," he muttered before being forced to push her away.
"Hey," Brock mumbled, still crumpled on the floor, "our camp is a couple a hundred metres down the path, on the left." He gave a thumbs up to the nervous researcher, who smiled slightly in return. "Go get him, man. You both deserve it."
"Thanks, Brock." Gary looked towards the aforementioned pathway.
"Get a move on, Gary. He won't be waiting all day, you know." Gary started as he was shoved by Dawn towards the trees.
He could not believe he was seriously going through with this.
At the clearing, Brock and Dawn watched Gary disappear into the shadows before looking at each other. Brock sighed, rubbing his head. "I wonder how long they'll need." Dawn looked up at the sky, humming to herself.
"I don't know," Dawn rubbed her boots together and sat on the stump that Gary occupied a short while earlier. "Do you think Ash knows?" She asked Brock, keeping her gaze trained on a puffy white cloud floating above her. Brock smiled, tossing a rock up and catching it in one hand.
"I think the question is, Dawn, does Gary know?" Dawn looked over towards the breeder with confusion glazing her eyes. "Don't forget, I've been travelling with Ash for nearly his whole journey – I've seen practically every encounter that he and Gary have had. Today's going to end well, I think."
Dawn contemplated this, leaning down to pick up a dry leaf before twiddling it between her fingers. The clearing was silent and the weather was picking up – the sun was peeking out from behind the tall trees and the prominent rainclouds that sat above them earlier had given way to a stretch of glorious blue, dabbled with white smudges. Dawn sighed and closed her eyes, thinking over the day's events. Peering out from one eye, she looked at Brock, who was sitting hunched over and cross-legged with his chin resting on the palm of his hand, his other hand playing with the blades of grass around him. Turning to face Brock, Dawn coughed and he looked up in her direction. Dawn played with the hem of her dress, wondering whether to ask her question or not. Brock raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
'Oh, what harm can it do?' Dawn pulled a face, before taking in a big breath.
"So, Brock."
"Yes, Dawn?" Brock looked at her, confused. Dawn blinked.
"Who's Professor Ivy?"