When a Dream is Done

by Erebos Brando

Where do we go when we reach the top of the world? To who do we turn when all there are, are those we have forsaken? Who do we fight when there's no-one left to defeat? What do we do when our dreams are done? When this is his life, what can Ash do?

3. Reflections and Regrets

Author's Notes

A note about the level of angst in the fic (so far): It's been raised in review twice, but I doubt Yoshi's Kun is the only thinking it, but the level of emotion in this fic is rather high (the angst especially, which to be fair, is a category the fic has been placed in.). Ash has come back from accomplishing his dream, and found he's utterly ruined everything else in his life in the process. He had almost nothing to come home to. The fact is that at this point emotions among the characters are rather raw (Ash's in particular) and when emotion's get like that things can get blown completely out of proportion and all kinds of extreme reactions can take place (I've lived enough to know this and see it first hand).

The emotional roller-coaster will have ups and downs, it's part of the process. I don't have it in me to keep things quick and simple, I like a little more fire and depth in my writing, but yes, I could do with turning down the dialogue a bit but this kind of story is very new territory for me, it'll be a while before I find a good balance.

Give it time.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

For the 20th minute in a row, Brock sat before his phone, considering making a call. He'd sat on the chair by the phone since he'd arrived, stopping himself from picking up the phone right away when it occurred to him he wasn't sure what he was going to say.

Brock had a unique view of the situation Ash had created, owing to the fact he'd played the role of older brother figure over the years to Ash and his friends. He'd been one almost all had come to for emotional support when someone finally understood that they had been abandoned. He'd been witness to May and Dawn, both ranting on about how 'that jerk' had been so distant with them when they came out to see him (well they were coming for the contest, but they wanted to meet him too), though he understood they'd only called him that to weaken the impact, the hurt was in their eyes and words, if only in tone. He'd been the one who a rather confused Max had come too, wondering if somehow he'd caused the awkwardness that was the last time they spoke. He'd visited Ash's mother, able to see past the façade she put up while her son was Arceus knows where, because she didn't. Most frequently he'd witnessed Misty, who at times had to play an even stronger façade than Delia.

Now while it was true had a...disappointing success rate with women his declarations of love did not come from an ignorant mind, he could spot real feelings a mile off. He'd known from early on that Misty liked Ash, though at first she'd tried repressing it. After the little incident at Lavender tower however that was it, she'd stopped deny it, at least to herself. Brock had more than once considered trying to interfere, get those two on the path that lead to them being closer but given Ash's obliviousness to the fairer sex, and Misty's stubborn as all hell attitude he'd figured if something was going to happen it would eventually. After he and Misty had to leave however he did briefly wonder what that meant for them both. He'd had to stop himself from showing his shock at what Misty gave Ash the day they left, unlike Ash, he knew perfectly well the meanings attached to that action, and given how much Misty spoke of romance he had no doubt she did too. He realized it then, Misty didn't like Ash, she loved him. He'd have been tempted to suddenly go into one his rants on love, compare the situation of his two friends to the typical tragic romance stories of history, how fate was keeping the two young would-be lovers apart, but when the tragedy was right in front of you, it was so much more real than a mere tale.

More tragic too.

He knew Misty had taken to Ash's actions harder than any of his friends. He didn't blame Ash for not noticing Misty's feelings (he was too compassionate to condemn denseness), but he couldn't help but feel more angry than he should have been at Ash's choices, maybe because he'd found himself having to see every inch of the mess Ash had made, though he did have rights to be angry for himself, he'd been abandoned too,

Unlike anyone else however, he'd been told so to his face, in Ash's own way.

He'd never forget that day...

Brock hadn't met up with Ash looking for a fight, in actuality he had hoped it to be a good visit. He didn't think Ash was doing anything intentionally, he'd just got a little caught up in things is all. He'd gone there partly to try and repair Ash's mistakes, this was Ash after all. Ash was a good guy, if a little one track minded at times, he cared about his friends. Brock figured if he just mentioned the fact that Ash wasn't contacting his other friends (and Mother) much anymore, Ash would realize his mistake and start making calls over the following days. Everything would be fine before the end of the week he'd guessed.

Never would he have expected the reaction he'd gotten.

It was not a moment of his life he was particularly, or even slightly proud of. Things had gotten bad so quick it was hard to recall the exact steps that lead up to Ash getting up and walking away, but the words passed between them were seared into time, Brock would ever forget the words of the single worst moment that had ever happened between them. It looked like Ash had truly chosen his dream over everyone else, and in his own way he had said so, not in those words but he'd found the meaning in them. He'd drawn the conclusion that Ash simply didn't care anymore.

Or so it had seemed...

He'd given Ash visiting the Cerulean city gym some serious thought after the call (and after his own anger subsided). He didn't want Misty doing so however, he didn't like giving false hopes to anyone (and Misty was far too heavily invested) but to Brock Ash's actions said a lot, but he wasn't exactly sure what it meant. He found it of greater interest that he'd visited Misty in particular. However...Ash hadn't made himself known, hadn't tried to make contact, had done nothing but walk away, Brock would have liked to think this was out of shame, but when he thought of their last conversation he couldn't help but doubt it. Maybe he was being unfair on Ash, so he decided to hold off on deciding what to think until (and if) he got the truth.

Which lead him to this, wanting to call, get his former friend on the line and get the truth out of him. He picked up the phone, about to dial. What would he say? What would they both do? Where would the conversation go? Would Ash even want to talk to him? Or would he just blow up at Brocks' words again like last-

He put the phone down with a sigh. He couldn't contact Ash with a clear mind, which meant contacting him would help no one. If Ash still cared about his friends, he'd do the right thing. He could patch things up with Ash then and see where things went. Though when that would be was another story, but if nothing else, Brock was a patient man.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ash was flicking through channels randomly. "Crap. Crap. Crap. Oh, another piece about me...you think they'd get bored by now. 'Grandmaster not seen in public since blah blah blah', crap." He flicked through another few channels, Pikachu too distracted with his current endeavour (another bottle of Ketchup) to make any input before Ash finally stopped. It was considerable news, a Pokémon contest that was going down in Celadon City, one that revealed that some big names in the Pokémon contest world were attending.

Two he recognized right away. Once again May and Dawn were going head-to-head by the looks of things. Ash smiled, though sadly. "I'll have to go see that. Who knows, maybe I'll get a chance to talk to them both. I mean, they're better than my chances with...others anyway. Why do I get the feeling I'm gonna get slapped?"

He sighed, well he never got this far in life by being a coward, so this could not be avoided. He had a few days before he'd have to go to Celadon. He flipped to another channel before his rhythm of channel surfing was interrupted.

"Ring ring ring, phone call, ring ring ring, phone call."

Ash looked away from the TV, making his way to the house video phone. Delia was currently in the shower so he'd found himself with phone duties. He made his way to the phone, yawning, about to pick up the phone to answer. His hand was just about to touch the device, then he took a look at the caller ID.

Misty

The phone continued to ring, but Ash's arm would no longer move, none of him would. The phone continued sounding out its desire to be answered, but Ash could no longer hear, no longer even truly see. Picking up that phone meant talking, talking meant to her, and to talk to her would mean answering for what he had done. He had no answer that was good enough...

With only a single movement, he could sever the distance between them. For how long he dared not imagine. For the second it took her to realize who was talking to before hanging up? The hours she'd spend shouting a him? Or, as his darkest depths feared, the rest of their lives? Where she'd never let this go, where she'd never let him forget what he had done. She'd once railed on him for even the most minor of things, but this, this was far beyond anything else they'd every argued over. In his heart he felt it, he didn't understand why he felt this way, but to him, no one, no one on this earth deserved to hate him more than her.

If only he knew why. His hand had not moved, not even shook. It, along with him seemed to be frozen in time. Ash was transfixed, gazing that those five little letters on the screen, when put together, in that precise order could distract him from all else. If Ash had taken the time, he might have wondered why that was.

Time saw fit to move once more. The screen changed, and he saw her for the first time in so long. He felt his heart...did it freeze or jump for a second? He wasn't sure. She'd grown up, but he could still recognize her perfectly, those unique eyes, her shining hair, and that face. Ash found himself staring at his first true (human) friend for the first time in what felt now was forever, it was mesmerizing, he felt glad to simply see her, but crushing guilt, just knowing why he had not seen her in so long. He suddenly felt how (he guessed) some people felt staring at a painting. Every brush-stroke, every detail, every essence of life could be lovingly woven into the fabric of the surface, but it was just that, a painting. Beautiful, captivating, even capable of pulling on the heart, but it was that, a painting.

And the subject of the painting was so often beyond reach. Still he continued watching, smiling in spite of himself as he heard her joyful tones for the first time in oh so long...

"Hi, Delia. Sorry it's been a while but the Gym's been getting a lot of challenges recently, load of wanna-bes who still think my Gym is weak...blame my sisters." Her voice changed from the light, cheery tones that made Ash smile to a more solemn one, filling Ash the feeling that he had been a frequent topic between his Mom and former friend. "Anyway, I'm calling about...Ash. I heard about his new title, and well...if you wanna talk I'm here, okay? I'll close the Gym for however long you need me for, or just leave my sisters to run it, it's overdue for someone to get a badge from us. Call me back soon, ok? Bye, Delia."

She hung up. Just like that. One instance he almost felt...right again, like when he was still wandering through Sinnoh? Back when he was with people? Somehow he doubted that. He was reminded of the feeling he had when travelling with people for sure, but this had been different, a feeling from much further back in time. For a brief instant he almost felt like when he was ten again, in his earliest and best days, everything was new, everything was a mystery, everything was with her, Brock too but Misty had so much more of a grip on him, why that was he didn't know, he'd never questioned it back then, it'd just seemed right, he was comfortable with it. Why break something that wasn't broken?

Now however, the moment of bliss was gone, the screen had turned black, and he found himself back in the real world. He was sixteen. He'd changed, and the world seemed to have changed too. He no longer held that sense of wonder, yet another thing that was disposed of in his travel through Unova. The dark shades of his current world had been contrasted against the light of his old, revealing his current as even uglier than they had been, and made even more so by what he had just been shown.

Her message was less than thirty seconds long, but such as it was that people sometimes managed to say far less in thirty years. She'd managed to say how she and her mother had been there for one another, even in his absence and because of it as time had gone on. She'd said how even through everything, Misty still kept track of him, even if it may have been only enough to learn of his recent victory. Lastly, and the most vicious bite to his heart of all, she'd said the one thing that made part of him break.

Misty had lost faith in him, just as he had feared.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Misty placed the phone back, frowning to herself. "You better have contacted her, Ash. Or I swear I won't ever forgive you."

She was just about to take some mid-morning laps in the pool when, "Misty! There's like, another challenger coming in!"

She rose up, her (somewhat) good mood shot down. "That's the fifth one today! Where did I put that mallet?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ash had run outside, desperate to just breathe. He slammed down into the fields before his home and felt his entire body revolting against what he'd just discovered. He hadn't yet dared to imagine just how back his abandonment of everyone else could have been for them, he wasn't sure if he could actually take it. Now he didn't have a choice, reality was kicking down his mental defences and prying open his eyes, there would be no blinding himself to the truth now.

How many times? How many times had Misty and his own Mother been sad together because of him? It can't have been only once, but he didn't want to take an exact guess, fearful that he'd get an accurate and very grim number. Day after day it was becoming more real. "Can't I go one day without getting kicked while I'm down?" He'd come home to find his mother, little more than a dam of tears which broke the second he came home, and not for the first time he had no doubt. Had Misty cried with her? Had Misty even been the only one to do so? He felt himself starting to cry again. ""What have I done?" He forced a hand to his eyes, trying to fight the river down with force. He forced himself to calm down before rising to his feet, remembering a certain...unpleasant meeting the previous day.

Swallowing his own bile, Ash realized, as much of an ass Gary was, he'd been right. He owed him...an apology. "I'll put that one last on my to-do list. Ugh. Maybe I should have just stayed on the road."

He'd never regret punching him though, he had a long list of reasons to justify doing that.

Ash slowly rose to his feet, wiping himself off of any traces of his little episode. Fortunately his eyes required no deception to be applied to them, he made his way back to his house.

He walked inside, thankfully his mother still seemed to be upstairs, so he wouldn't need to explain his sudden departure and re-arrival. He considered going back to watch TV, but on the way he passed the phone again and flinched. Sooner or later his Mom was going to notice that, and she was going to respond to it, perhaps she'd even bring it up to him-no! He wouldn't, he couldn't. He could not bring himself to talk to her now, he could not talk to his...former...best friend. He shook his head and began to make a beeline to the door when-

"Where are you going, Ash?"

He jumped, his mother was coming down the stairs and he hadn't even noticed. He arranged his facial features into a 'happy' expression and turned around. "Just going for a walk, Mom. I just need some tim-some fresh air, that's all. I wont be long. Bye." Cursing his slip-up, he opened the door and made his way out, lightly shutting the door behind him.

She knew her son was hiding something from the second she saw him, and since nothing had been wrong before she'd gone to shower that must have meant that something had happened while she was gone. She didn't notice any signs of visitors, so she decided to check the phone first.

"Oh my." After getting herself dressed she'd have to call Misty.

It'd take Misty just that long to beat her challenger and send his bruised ego (and Pokémon) to the Pokémon Center. She'd find herself having greatly enjoyed that battle. There was always a certain sadistic pleasure in beating Bug Pokémon, especially when you had a Gyarados that you could give the order 'flamethrower' to anytime.

On his way out Ash realized he had lost track of his hat (he'd gotten into the habit of wearing it everywhere, even indoors. Amazing how little you cared for manners while travelling alone.), likely during his little...upset. He considered looking for it when, "Mine! Mime!" Ash stopped to see the house janitor making his way towards him, holding his hat. It occurred to Ash that he hadn't seen the clown-like Pokémon since he got back, but remembered his Mother mentioning Professor Oak badly needing an extra set of hands at the lab for a couple days, which Mr. Mime was taxed with.

"Hey, Mimey. Thanks." He took his hat, placing it on himself right away. "I'm guessing your saw me, please don't tell Mom. She wouldn't take it well." Mimey nodded. "Thanks. I'm off to wander for a while, take care of Mom." He shifted his hat slightly when it occurred to him..."Mimey, you remember the first outfit I adventured in right?"

"Mime! Mime!" An eager nodding accompanied this answer.

"I couldn't find it in my room. Do you know where it is?"

"Mime..." Mr. Mine was slowly shaking his head. Ash shrugged.

"Oh well. It'll turn up. See you later."

As he left, Ash couldn't help wonder where the hell his first outfit had gotten too. "Not that I'd let it go, but it'd probably be worth a fortune now!" He suddenly couldn't help but picture an auction, with his original outfit being the item up for bid. "Grandmaster Ash Ketchum's original outfit, starting bid is 2,500,000 Pokedollars." He blinked, recalling something. "Actually...wasn't that the prize money for one of the top places at the championship? And what did I get for winning?"

He'd have to check his bank account sometime, and when that time came he'd find himself yet again frozen for a while. Pikachu would accompany him when he finally did, with the most important question regarding that amount being the first thing he brought up to his friend when Ash could finally process thought again and told him the sum.

How much is that in Ketchup?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Misty picked up the phone to see "Delia! Hi. I was wondering when you'd call back."

The smiling Delia ran a hand through her hair, checking if it was properly dried. "Just in the shower. But you were right, it has been a while. So tell me how you are."

Misty blinked, this conversation was not going the way she'd expected. Delia was so...happy. More so than Misty had seen her in a long time. She'd always put up a convincing front, which had taken much less effort when Misty visited or called but now it was...gone. Misty gave a short but detailed account of current events; more or less the usual would sum it up nicely. Misty was trying to think of what to say next, struggling so much that she spent a number of seconds in silence, silence Delia was quickly able deduce a reason for.

"You want to ask about Ash, don't you?"

"Sorry, it's just I was wondering if..."

Delia smiled, with more joy than Misty had seen on her face in a very long time. "He came home. My baby's finally home!"

"R-really?" Misty took a second to form an honest, but burdened smile. "That's great." Misty felt the questing brewing on the back of her tongue, but she sealed her jaw to prevent it escaping. She wanted to ask if Ash had mentioned missing anyone, but more so if he missed herself, but that would have been too selfish. Delia was happy, and that was the important thing.

Delia could tell what Misty was also thinking, her acting was decent, but they had spent too much time together for Misty to be able to fool her easily. "He really misses you."

"H-he does? Has he...said anything?"

"No. But a mother can tell." She decided against telling her exactly how she had been able to tell. "He's too ashamed. He hasn't contacted anyone else either. I've never...seen him like this..."

Silence came, and with it a heavier mood polluted the atmosphere. Misty watched, more confused than anything. Delia wasn't angry in the least, she was just sad, and not for herself. She spoke her thoughts before she could stop herself.

"I just don't get it...after what he did...how can you just...forgive him?"

"Ah to be young." Her eyes met Misty's, as best they could through a video call, and she was resolute in her answer. "He's my son. I'm his mother, and I couldn't just turn him away, especially when he came back as sad as he did. One day you'll have a child of your own. You'll understand then."

Feeling she had overstepped her boundaries, Misty tripped over herself to break into apology. "I'm sorry, Delia. I didn't mean to offend. I-"

Delia had raised a hand, but was smiling. "I know. And I'm not mad, so don't worry." She dropped her smile. "I'm not going to ask you to do anything, but Ash regrets what he did. Try not to dwell too much on what he did, just remember that he came back, and he misses you. Just like you miss him." She smiled again. "Think about it, OK? Goodbye, Misty."

"Bye, Delia."

Misty put the phone back down. That call had been...different from anything she would have expected, and she didn't know how to take it. She was happy Delia was happy, no question there. She'd spent so much time with the woman over the years, so much that she felt she really owed Ash a really vicious blow to his unmentionables (delivered with a solid steel mallet) for what he did to his own mother/her mother figure. But seeing Delia become so much happier so quickly...

She sighed. This was...confusing. On a simple level, her actions could be deemed foolish. Ash was back, she had missed him, so she should have already gotten up and started making her way there, but then there was the complicated part; Just why it was they had not talked in so long. It was true, that by the end of communication between Ash and herself Misty too had ceased giving a great deal of effort in what communication they had but he'd made it so damn hard! Even holding up the most basic of conversations with him eventually became an impossible task. It was like something had been wedged between them and she couldn't think of a way to shift it, and Ash was too dense to have understood had she asked about it. She did what she previously thought impossible of herself.

She gave up on him, gave up trying to talk to someone who didn't show any interest in talking to her, but for a while hoped that it was just some kind of phase, and that soon enough Ash would make contact again. She'd have been alright with that, but soon days turned into weeks, and that into months, and somehow a year managed to creep by, and then more time followed. She had tried to simply give up and forget about him, but that had been an impossible exercise, even if she hadn't been visiting his mother Ash would have, and did find ways to creep into her thoughts. She didn't want to say it out loud, but she did miss him, and he missed her.

"So why did he ever let me go?"

Once more she asked that question, once more silence was all that would answer her.

"Zurill! Zurill!" Misty suddenly turned her eyes to see her 'baby' bouncing on its tail to reach her, bouncing right from the floor up to between her and the phone.

"Hey, baby. Hungry?"

"Azu!"

Misty picked up her youngest Pokémon, "Alright then. Wanna eat with everyone else today?"

"Azu, azu!"

She smiled. "Then I will too."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Delia put the phone down gently, a small smile gracing her lips. "Maybe there's hope for them after all."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Once more Ash's feet had done the travel planning for him, and had taken him to another familiar sight. With a sudden smirk he remembered the first time he'd found himself here, soaked, an injured Pikachu in hand, and having just been fished out by his (eventually) favourite tomboy. He found himself sitting on the very rock he'd landed on, before laying down to gaze up at the sky. So much time had passed since the day he'd been fished from this river, only now did he realize just how long it really had been. How long it had been since he'd met the one on his mind..."Misty..." He sighed, he was going to be here a while, content once more just to wallow in his thoughts, no matter how depressing. His mind was so lost in thought he almost didn't notice that his body was moving of its own accord.

He caught himself, and took close notice at where his hand was going. He blinked, what was in his jacket's left breast pocket? He reached in, feeling something before pulling it out.

He gasped.

When had he put that there? The miniaturized lifeless version of Misty stared back at him, winking as it always had. He took careful note of the face, so carefree and happy. It reminded Ash of the times the real Misty had smiled at him. "How would you look at me now?"

He continued to stare, part of him lost in the thoughts the image inspired, the other trying to remember when he'd put this inside of the zipped pocket. It, like Misty's handkerchief, got swept up with the other things he decided to take to Unova, it must have. Alas a share of the things he'd taken had been decided at random, so he can't have been sure if he'd intended to take either. He tried to remember when he'd gone fishing in Unova, but in all of his two years there he drew up a blank. He'd had no reason to find this most important lure, yet here it was. He closed his eyes, desperately probing his mind, reaching into the moments of deepest shame.

The spiral which began the separation of him and Misty. He barely remembered their last call, their last conversation that even resembled something meaningful. What had they said? Why had they laughed at random points, and why had it suddenly turned so...quiet? What had caused the silence before their goodbye? How did it happen after that? Where did that conversation, the first step suddenly move into them finding themselves with less and less to talk about? Where exactly had it ended? So much of his time in Unova had become a blur, because so much of it really was the same. Get up, train, seek battle, redouble training upon defeat, repeat. The brief interludes when he had talked to people were the only real markers to define points in time, and when that stopped there was nothing else to take it's place, aside from noteworthy victories. Differentiating one day from another wasn't an easy task, but he did find something.

It had been many months into his tour around Unova, he'd found himself on a mountain range with the most amazing view of the stars. He remembered he'd reflected there at night, but on what? And why? What had he thought about over the month he stayed there? He had thought of her? Had he felt regret? Had he missed her? Had he pulled out the lure, desperate just to see her again? Even if it was only an imitation? Had this been an attempt to hold on? A desperate plea by the part of himself that was not sacrificing himself to the obsession that grew every day? With a tear he realized, had that been the case, then this lure had been in his jacket for well over a year, never removed, never noticed, a smile suspended in time, but even this lovingly crafted gift was a shadow of the real thing.

Why oh why hadn't he just picked up a damn phone? One call, one! One call could have fixed things, he could have done it the instant he realized they had stopped talking. That would have been perfect. He could have done it a week later, a close second. He could have done it a month later, that would have likely been enough. He could have done it six months later...that might have helped. But no, he had permitted time to crawl on, crawl until finally it had managed to get away from him, and her with it. If only he'd...just taken the time. The time to talk, the time to spend on her. Time to spend with her. All that wandering alone hadn't been fun, a lot of the time it was merely bearable. Yet he'd chosen that over her, over everyone else. How he longed to just go back and change things, just to do the right thing. How he wished...she was back in his life again. He'd let this go on too long, he could have fixed this easily then, but that was then, this was now.

Now was too late.

"Pi pika chu pika pika chu pi? Ka chu pika pi pika kachu?" You planning to avoid her until you die of old age? Or just until you finally man up?

Ash was far from surprised he had been found, getting away from Pikachu was a nigh impossible task. He didn't respond immediately. He just looked into the eye of the lure, deeper than he had ever looked into the eyes of the one who made it. He wanted...too much. He clasped the lure into a fist, forcing it back to its home. He wanted to rush back home to call, or even better yet rush to Cerulean city and just talk to her again, but shame chained him down. After what he had let happen, made happen, how could he dare to do so? What would give him that right?

"Whichever comes first."

With that Pikachu knew the conversation was at an end. He knew his friend well enough to know that further questioning was going to go nowhere, Ash was impossible to talk to while despondent, and alas the very cause of his current depression could have easily pulled him out of it had she been here, oh cruel irony..."The one time he comes up with a witty comeback. Ash..." Ash stood up, walking away. Pikachu watched him walk away. "Why do you do this to yourself?" Even had he said it out loud Pikachu doubted Ash would have answered, he merely kept walking, to where was obvious, the only place he felt he could go now.

Pikachu followed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

As it would turn out, Ash would not manage to make it home just yet. Tracey had bumped into him and managed to convince Ash to come pose for the drawing he'd promised. For the first time since getting home Ash found himself at the Oak family lab, but he would be spending this visit outside. Ash couldn't help but smile as he watched the actions of certain Pokémon in the fields of the lab, ones that had written their names in history forever more, the first one he noticed was currently scratching his very large belly.

The Slumbering Titan, or so Snorlax had become known as during the championship. Snorlax entered most of his battles asleep, but that did not negate his ability to fight, a third of his victories had been seized asleep, and given how a number of them were seized by Snorlax trying to eat his opponent it can be guessed with reasonable certainty what he'd been dreaming about. Snorlax's final battle in the Championship had been one he'd entered awake from the start, fighting at a double type disadvantage but that did nothing to stop him fighting the good fight.

Cynthia's Lucario had proven to be by far the best trained Ash had ever fought. It's fighting style was both highly refined and combined with its physical strength, extremely destructive. More than half the fight had seen Snorlax being punched and kicked across the arena, but Ash was far too cunning, and Lucario (along with Cynthia) overconfident in his own abilities. For all his strength, even he couldn't move 1000 pounds of Pokémon easily, and that's what Ash gave him to move. A cleverly timed Rollout tricked Lucario into throwing the Pokémon upwards (with immense effort), leaving the now exhausted Pokémon to take on the full brunt of the force that was the falling 'Snorlaxrite' (as the commentator had called him) who was more than well-versed in controlling the direction of his fall. Snorlax had delivered Ash a (literally) crushing victory. The first round of their match gave Ash a sizeable and early lead. Snorlax had earned the right to sleep for a full year if he so desired, and he was starting to make good on that reward right now.

Ash's eyes turned to a pool, where a number of water Pokémon were attempting to dance, trying to both imitate and keep away from the leader of the session, lest they find themselves crushed underfoot. A long time had passed since this dancer was the little Totadile that Ash acquired in Johto. Now a mighty Feraligatr stood in his place. His evolution had been an interesting one, given that it was the fasted two evolutions that Ash had ever seen. During training Totadile suddenly found himself evolving, but the second he was finished evolving he took one quick look at himself as a Croconaw, gave a dissatisfied growl and suddenly he was alight again. When he was done he'd been quite satisfied with the results, breaking into a dance of joy almost right away. Ash found himself jumping away as far as he could, given that the ground looked like it would collapse around him.

Back when he was a Totodile, his dancing had been a mixture been an annoyance and, well, annoyance as a weapon. Now he was a Feraligatr his dancing was just plain dangerous. Ash couldn't help but laugh at the memory when he'd first used the dancer in a match at the championship. His opponent's Dragonite had been an impressive beast, managing to knock out a somewhat tired Snorlax with a swift strike, but Ash simply pointed to the pseudo-legendary and told his dancer to "have fun".

The Dragon was defeated in less than a minute. The remainder of the entire match was over in less than five. People and Pokémon alike learned to fear the dancing Pokémon, especially when its twirling came with a gigantic Iron Tail. Entire sections of the walls had to be repaired whenever Feraligatr got into his 'battle dance'.

Miraculously, crowd injuries didn't increase at all. Though Ash was sure he was going to find himself in hospital one day, evolution had not weaned the creature off affectionate nibbling.

Next he found a small crowd of Pokémon, two members in particular standing out. He smiled, Charizard and Charla were visiting for now, and would be in Pallet for a while, Charizard wanted to visit some old friends and spend time with his team members, current and old.

Charizard had proved once again that it would always be the main source of raw power among Ash's Pokémon. Charizard had more often than not managed to defeat several foes before finally being taken down in a match, even then often leaving the victor so exhausted they couldn't keep going for long after anyway. Through his training in the Charicific Valley he had proven himself to be the strongest Charizard there, and a number of eager Charizard's at the championship had attempted to challenge him in his quest to be the strongest Charizard in the entire world.

These were times Ash could not get Charizard to listen to him, though he never needed to in these matches, he'd delivered a victory to Ash every time. Ash had found himself almost feeling sorry for the residents of the valley. Charizard was only going to have a bigger ego than when he left when he finally returned to the Charicific valley. Fortunately however, Ash's main powerhouse had something to keep him distracted from punishing his fellow residents these days. Something which was running towards Ash right now.

"Hey there." Ash grinned. "Ash."

"Char! Char!" Ash leaned down to embrace "Ash", while the little Charmander's parents looked on with pride. Ash the Charmander, the Charmander that had been named after him. When Ash had called upon his old friend he'd been quite surprised to see him come with Liza and Charla, Liza riding in the balloon with the youngest member of the group. Liza had told him that Charizard had named his first after his trainer, one of the most touching moments in said trainer's life, so touching in fact that a tear did manage to escape, only to be erased by the young Charmander's display of intended affection. After Ash finished blowing smoke out of his mouth he couldn't help but grin. "Just like your dad."

Ash (the human) did wonder if the months that he had spent with his victory team training in isolation had been hard on Charizard, but Pikachu had assured him that while the dominant male of the Charicific Valley did miss his family, he wouldn't miss this championship for anything. Even so far away Charizard was absolutely loyal, he'd have spent a lifetime training for that championship had Ash asked him. Ever since Ash worked tirelessly to save his life nothing, quite literally nothing was going to stop him from helping the human he respected most. He'd return for Ash's title defence next year, and every year after that unless Ash told him to stop. Besides, Charizard was a warrior at heart, he got bored without a good opponent to fight now and then.

Charla had proven to be the perfect mate. Ash the Charmander's conception had been an...interesting night.

Ash looked around, and quickly found his Sceptile. As always he was chewing on a twig, and was currently lounging beneath the shade of a tree. Out of his entire team he was distinctly accomplished in terms of victories at the tournament. Tobias, who had defeated Ash at the Lilly of the Valley Conference, had been the victim of a very cruel defeat at the championship. Last time he'd gone head-to-head with Ash, he'd beaten him with only two Pokémon. This time, Sceptile defeated all of Tobias' team himself. It had been a trying battle, leaving Sceptile unable to fight for a couple of days after, but Sceptile, more than any other member on Ash's team and proven that a mere title of 'legendary' did not define a Pokémon's strength. Charizard was Ash's raw power, Pikachu his speed (and ace Pokémon), Snorlax his iron wall and Feraligatr his...weaponized entertainment and moral booster (his dances were inspiring to watch, even while being used to beat something unconscious). Sceptile had proven himself on sheer skill. Both he and Ash had taken a cruel sense of satisfaction in demolishing Tobias outright.

From that battle on Ash was favoured to win the tournament, because then the world finally knew. To his team; 'Legendary' was merely a title, and something they could and would beat into the ground. Others in the tournament had put legendary Pokémon in front of Ash and his team, none of them had been able to seize even a single victory against his any of his team. The greatest challenges, and defeats against members of Ash's team had come from 'normal' Pokémon, those who had not let themselves be undermined by titles created by the myth writers of history. Many Pokémon at the championship had challenged the conception that 'legendaries' were the strongest, and any who managed to even present a challenge a member of Ash's had done so admirably.

Lastly Ash's eyes found his youngest team member, one he had raised since he'd hatched, and had proven himself time and again to be the single most headstrong of the team, perhaps even more so than his trainer. Young though he was, he'd proven capable of backing up his ego with matching strength.

It all started when Ash had helped resolve a conflict, the details of which he'd mostly forgotten over time, but perhaps he'd remember one day. The egg had been a 'thank you' gift for that event, and oddly Ash had kept it, which when he thought about it did surprise him. He'd been content to wonder with Pikachu, training the electric mouse exclusively, and it was working out well for the both of them. He could have simply sent that egg away but he kept it, he wasn't sure why. He kept good care of the egg until one day it had suddenly hatched, a Scraggy had come into this world, and was eager to make quite an introduction.

Pikachu had needed several minutes for the headache to subside.

Ash had wanted to send Scraggy to Professor Oak, feeling the Pokémon would be happier there, and Oak would have a Unova Pokémon to study, but the little guy had refused, and slowly but surely went from an infant who was all bark and no bite, into a Pokémon with a lot of bark and considerable bite. Scraggy was the only Pokémon Ash had acquired in the region of Unova, the poison of his obsession for victory quickly clouding him from collecting new members for his team. Ash regretted not having a Pokémon that was Scraggys' age around, a childhood friend would have done him good but Ash never took the time to find a Pokémon of that age group. Bringing him back to Oak's lab sure gave the Pokémon a lot of friends now, but the earliest days of his childhood would always have that unique kind of loneliness to them. He'd never be able to recall days spent playing with other children, and the very earliest friendships that would have included, the predecessors and training for friendships of later life, the ones Scraggy would do best to hang on to, better than his trainer had. Ash hoped that his foolishness would not have any long time effects on his youngest Pokémon, but he would make sure that if there were problems, he'd fix them. He'd not let anyone he cared about make his mistakes.

In time his team had become filled with older members. Snorlax first, when he'd needed his sturdiness to help win a battle. Then Totadile when a Water Pokémon had become necessary (Totadile volunteered himself), and when Ash found his way to Driftveil he'd called upon Sceptile, wanting to just to get into the gym, get a badge and go. Slowly but surely Ash's 'victory six' had been gathered, with Charizard being the last to arrive in the final stretch; training for the championship.

When the training phase had come Ash had tried to convince Scraggy to go to Professor Oak or Juniper (or be released if he wanted), he didn't want to hurt his youngest Pokémon but Scraggy had outright refused, head-butting him just to get Ash to drop the subject. He was young, but his spirit, that alone had pushed Scraggy up into the levels of power that the rest of the team had rising to. It was true, that even now, he was the 'weakest' of the team in matters of physical power, but that didn't matter. He had something that no-one else had, he was unbreakable. He'd gone up against Pokémon stronger, faster and more experienced in the championship and beat many of them down, simply because he refused to give in until he'd been knocked out, and that always took great effort to do. He'd taken heavy injuries, severe burns, potent poisonings but he never stopped fighting, even if Ash tried ordering him too. All this had culminated in the final match, in Scraggy's finest hour.

Cynthia had pitted her Spiritomb against Scraggy, and it was a mostly one-sided struggle. Spiritomb was like a phantom, one place one second and another the next, launching attack after attack in rapid and vicious succession. The number of hits Scraggy managed to land had been small, but each one had left their mark, but it had not been enough. It seemed to be certain defeat for the fighter until that moment, where Scraggy had gone from just a little frustrated at his predicament to absolutely pissed.

Spiritomb had started laughing at him, and that proved to be the biggest mistake it had made in its life. (assuming a ghost has such a thing) One second he'd been facing a Scraggy that was proving to be little more than target practice. The next, Scraggy had turned the tables in the most effective manner he could think of.

He'd evolved, and the newly-evolved and absolutely furious Scrafty didn't wait for orders before attacking. Scrafty suddenly vanished, a Faint Attack throwing Spiritomb against a wall before he'd thrown himself at the stunned ghost, delivering a brutal payback and sinking his teeth and smashing his head into whatever part of Spirtomb he could reach along with whatever else he could throw at the ghost (which turned out to be a lot, Charizard had given Scrafty extensive lessons in creative brutality). After several minutes of the beating Scrafty emerged from a crater in the wall holding his broken foe over his head and throwing it to the ground. Evolution had boosted his powers to greater heights, and also managed to boost his ego, as the second he'd finished with his opponent he cast Cynthia a distinct hand gesture.

It was clear that Ash had built an interesting team. Both in abilities and personalities.

It took five minutes to gather his team for the picture, another twenty to decide on a pose, another ten to get everyone to agree to it, and another half an hour for the sketch to be drawn to Tracy's satisfaction. Tracey would draw many copies of that picture, and eventually the copies would find themselves in many interesting places as time went by. Ash would one day own the original, and he'd keep it framed upon his wall, until the time it became an heirloom, to forever be treasured by future generations of the Ketchum family.

Now if only Ash could mend fences with a certain potential future wife.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Misty carefully placed the jacket in first, before the signature hat was placed atop it. She nodded to herself before placing the lid upon them for the umpteenth time. She slid the box under her bed, as always she did. Many a time the box had been placed under the bed, many times had it been extracted, a cycle carried out over the years.

She'd been...shaken, by today's revelations. Delia's words resonated with Misty far deeper than they were likely intended to, because the resentment she held now had been building up far longer than Ash's abandonment of his friends and family.

Leaving Ash behind had been the hardest thing she had ever done (Brock had admittedly been easier to leave, but still hard). Even leaving home the first time was easy by comparison, but she felt like she owed the place she resided in now. It was the gym her parents had handed down to their daughters, though long before they originally intended to do so. If her sisters were not going to protect their legacy, she had to. Still, even with her reason it had been hard. She handled herself well, in retrospect. Sure, she'd been parted from her love, but she was sure that she would never be replaced, never forgotten, and one day they would travel together again, and everything would fall back into place. She hadn't been even the slightest bit worried.

Then not even a week had passed, and she received news of May.

For the first time in a very long time, Misty had cried herself to sleep. All that time, the adventures they had, the things they did, and in no time at all Ash had put a new girl on his arm, leaving her quite unneeded. She'd needed some time before she was ready to face Ash again after that, she'd gone a few weeks without answering his calls, feeding him excuses through other means of communication. Directly talking to Ash had become out of the question for a while. "How dare he!" had been her way of thinking for a while. That troubled time had forced her to do some growing up, but not quite so much that she was completely unaffected the next time she got wind of a new girl. It had affected her far less, but given that by this time her sisters had returned, she was saddened that Ash had not asked her to travel with him to Sinnoh. Her love for him had been a great source of pain as a result of this. On some subconscious level she thought if May was a replacement for her, then Dawn was Ash moving on. Step by step, Ash seemed to be moving through potential lovers, getting further away from the one who'd been there since the start, waiting. His continued travels had been the source crude awakenings to her childhood dreams. She eventually realized how foolish she had been, but alas a broken heart was prone to foolishness. Still, some small part of her could not let help feel she had been cheated.

Alright...more than a small part.

Then, the process started. Truth be told, they had been communication with less meaning and frequency even before Ash had stepped foot in Unova. It was unusual by then if they had a call more than once a month, their conversations lasting often little more than half an hour, or the rarer full hour calls. Though infrequent, there was at least enjoyment in their talks, and she would admit there was still the occasional moment where, in brief fragments of a call, it was like old times again. But then came Unova, and what was already starting to slip away soared far beyond her reach.

She'd dismissed the first worry that struck her when she heard Ash was travelling in Unova, in retrospect that was foolish. For the first time (since his first day), Ash had been truly travelling alone (aside from Pikachu), and she had wondered if that would have some kind of ill effect on him. She'd laughed it off "This is Ash we're talking about" had been her exact phrasing on the matter. She thought him unshakeable, unchangeable. She expected that eventually, Ash would simply show up again, completely the same as before, if somewhat older.

Clearly she had been wrong. She did not question Delia's decision to simply forgive and forget, that was her business, and she respected her mother figure enough to trust her to make the right choices, and she had been right in what she said; Misty was no mother, though if life had gone down the path she wanted, a certain Grandmaster would eventually have changed that. The real path however had been far less clear cut, and if Misty were honest with herself, and she was going to have to be, she'd admit she was rather bitter about the whole affair. Simply being left behind had not sat well with her, it had not sat well with any of Ash's group of friends but she had been most restless with it of all. She was the first to stand beside him, she cared about him the most, and she'd found herself the first on the path to being let go. She needed time to think, to reflect, and reminders of Ash were not helping. She needed to think alone, and clearly.

Tonight, she decided, she would sleep without Ash's mementos.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Pikachu, fresh from his battle with another bottle of ketchup (with another flawless victory against his favourite food item) entered Ash's room, ready to call it a night. It was long past midnight, but that was nothing. He and Ash had long since gotten used to being up at all hours of the night, it's how they did things. Get up whenever, train and fight until they fell for the day, sleep as long as necessary. Consistency in sleep times was a foreign concept to Pikachu now. He looked up to the bed to see Ash had long departed into slumber, he taking better to this old lifestyle of consistency in sleep patterns better than Pikachu was. He jumped onto the bed, about to pick out an area to sleep in when he suddenly noticed Ash had not bothered to change out of his jacket tonight (that had happened often in their travels). That wasn't what caught Pikachu's eye, however. After seeing Ash today he finally understood the meaning of the pose he'd often found his best friend sleeping in, and was doing so again now.

He remembered all the times he'd seen Ash sleeping like that. The position varied over time. Sometimes on his back, others on his side, but one thing was always the same. Pikachu had first suspected that his trainer might be suffering some kind of illness, but asking about any pain, and Ash's continued health after that threw that theory out the window. Still, Pikachu had wondered. He'd never got the chance to look inside that pocket however, and eventually even he, like Ash, was too focused on victory to wonder about anything else. Today he had seen just what was in that pocket, and why his friend had clung so desperately to it. Even now, Ash slept that way, and even now he could not realize what he was doing.

Forever clutching his heart.

XXXXXXXXXXX

End of Chapter

XXXXXXXXXXX

Author's Notes: A considerable delay I know, but I pretty much started the fic on a whim, not something I like to do so I've needed to put some serious thought into where to go with this. I'm liking the situation I have set up, it's just deciding how much to explore it. So I'm gonna let you make some suggestions, it's not a vote or anything, but I want your thoughts on the fic and where it could go.

I could simply just explore things between Ash and his friends, how bit by bit things will be put back together. Will have its ups and downs, emotional moments, drama and so forth. Or I could make it more in depth, and explore Ash more, and having him coming to terms with that he has done, and has become (I've got some points to explore there). I'd also explore his adjusting to and restoring his old life, which is his path to happiness in case that wasn't obvious already, and what he will do now that his dream has been fulfilled. It'd be an interesting character study for him I think. What's Ash without the need to strive to become a Pokémon Master anymore? I know I'm far from the first to experiment with such a thing, but every author has their own way of looking into that question.

As I said; it's my decision on where the story goes, but I'd like your thoughts, so feel free to dump 'em in reviews.