Wonny: Well howdy doo! Sorry it's been a while since I've updated, last. My fault. Well, I get to drive tomorrow! And, just maybe, finally get my blue-slip! That's what I've been doing, most of the year: earing my blue slip. Whoop-ee. Yay. Another way to hurt my fellow man: with a mobile death machine. XD Nah.

Anyway. Back to fics. I'm trying, guys, REALLY trying. But now I'm the admin of an RPG site, and it's been taking up most of my time, as well as the recently passed DSTPs (Delaware Student Testing Programs) and average sophmore school work. That, and family deals and issues. I sware, you all have NO idea...

So...

On with the fic!

Sorry this chapie's a little short. I thought it was all right, but what ever. Flame if you wish.

Disclaimer: I own nothing as far as characters of pokemon go...except three Ash figurines and one chibi-Ash clip from Japan, but whatever.

Far from the weeping Gary, Ash was not having a good time with his tears, either. It seemed that whenever he thought they stopped, as soon as he took his hands away from his face, they started once more. Brock couldn't do very much, as he was trying to keep his truck on the road, in his lane. He did talk to him, though, in a soothing voice, telling him that things were going to be all right, now. But even Brock didn't seem too sure of this.

Upon arriving at Brock's residence, and finally pulling to a stop, the older of the two friends held the younger as he sobbed, rubbing the back of his head gently and telling him that it was all over; that Ash would never have to see Gary again, if he didn't want to. And half of Ash rejoiced at this. After all, it would be a peaceful time without Gary around: there wasn't anyone to complain about him or jeer at him or generally make his life a living hell.

Sadly, the other half wept bitterly. A first and only love...gone. Surely this was how a heartbroken lover felt. Surely, there could be no greater pain. And as more tears ran down Ash's face, it was the only thing he knew: that dull, aching pain right in the center of his fragile, broken glass heart.

"Misty, I don't know what to do with him. It's been a week and...Yes, I know he's going through a lot, but...No, Misty, wait, back up and can it for a moment. You remember those documents I sent you?...Okay, well, all I'm saying is, this being couped up in that room without much food can't be good for his condition..."

Said Ash listened at the top of the stairs. Brock was on the phone with Misty, another of his close friends, and also the most hot-headed out of all of them. Despite the bitterness he felt for his former lover, Ash still didn't wish Misty Waterflower's rage on him. He had specifically told Brock not to let her know for a while. Apparently, Brock thought he had waited long enough.

"...Yes...I think you ought to...Ah, you know he listens to me...Hate to tell you this, but you scare the shit out of him...Kidding, Kidding!...Well, what am I supposed to do with him?! He can't just stay here and waste away!...No...I'm not leaving him in a shelter for mothers, Misty. That's our friend you're talking about...So what?!...Look..." Brock sighed, tapping his fingers on the table, and Ash heard Misty squawking over the phone. He, himself, was hiding around the corner. Brock didn't know that he was being listened in on.

"...I understand that...Will that really be better for him?...You think?...I'll call and ask them...I still don't feel good about it, but-...I understand, Misty, really. If you think that he should be there with other mothers, then...Gotcha. G'night. Thanks."

Ash didn't hear the click of the phone being set on its cradle. He had dashed upstairs and was, yet again, packing. Not for this mother's home, mind you. No, Ash had another place in mind...

Somewhere safe, where he would be welcomed by actual friends.

After all, the Elite Four had always told him that if he needed a favor...

A light tapping sounded on the door.

"Ash?"

More tapping. No answer. Brock blew a piece of hair out of his face. Frankly, he was getting tired of this. Ash was just being a little over-reactive, in his opinion, sulking around like he was.

"You've got till three, Ash, and then I'm coming in."

No response.

"One."

Still nothing.

"TWO."

Brock grabbed the handle of the door.

"THREE!"

He threw open the door and stood, fuming, eyes scanning for his friend.

The man's face paled. He flew down the stairs to phone Misty, Tracy, Richie...anyone he knew.

Ash was gone.