Pairing: Ash/Misty (sort of)
Rated: T
Genre: Drama/Adventure
Summary: In which Delia's odd behavior allows Ash to learn about his father. Now he has to balance the journey to become a pokemon master, with uncovering his parents secret past. Storyboard
Requested by: LEGAL-EAGLE53
Most likely story name: (taking prompts, I was thinking "Road to father" but I'm not sure)
XOXs
A normal boy from Pallet Town, that's what Ash was supposed to be; but over a journey expanding over ten years, he realized that he was anything but normal. In many ways, the small boy who was bullied as a child, with little to no friends outside of stray pokemon, was more special than most people gave him credit for. When the world fell into chaos, and evil tried to overtake good, Ash always seemed to be there to save the day. His titles changed over the years, but the principles remained the same.
Somehow, Ash was lucky enough not to earn a Hero complex.
Misty would have begged to differ, according to how the six foot male sat boldly across from herself and their long companion, Brock. Legs were crossed over one another in a superficial way, his mouth was cocked to one side in a snark grin, and his arms where draped over both sides of the booth were he sat, and that forever, pestering gleam was alive like fire in his eyes. Time changed him physically, but his eyes were always the same. No matter how untamed his black hair became, how many scars he developed from years of 'saving the world' and pokemon training, or how bulky he became from constant travel; he was still Ash deep down.
And still a bit of an egotistical ass.
"I'm telling you, you guys should have seen the way Team Outstanding tried to take over the city, and then I showed up with that legendary pokemon and my companions, and we brought down six years of war efforts; can you believe that? In one day."
"Yes, Ash, you're amazing, let me have your babies." Misty mocked voice lathered in sarcasm that effectively shut down his elation. It wasn't like he hadn't told the two of them the story a billion times since he stopped to visit them in Viridian City. Brock chuckled at her remark and Ash's beaming confidence mellowed into a slight scowl.
"Well maybe I would if you weren't such a negative nancy."
"Negative Nancy?" Misty echoed, and beside the two of them, Brock had covered his mouth to silence his powerful laughter. Misty glanced at the waitress and raised her hand.
"Hey, are you a negative person?" Misty shouted to the waitress, who look around, first confused if she was the one being spoken to, then after realizing that their group was the only one in the diner at 11:00pm, she blushed and swallowed hard.
"Uhh, no..?" she answered unsure of herself.
"Great, then would you like to have this man's babies? He's super amazing!" Misty gestured to Ash, who immediately slammed her hands onto the table, rattling their half-empty plates of fries and blushing furiously.
"Misty!" He shouted, while the waitress turned as bright as a lamp.
"I...uh... I...have to go!" She said quickly, dashing into the kitchen through swinging brown doors. At that point, Brock couldn't contain himself, and burst into a room full of laughter, his bellowing notions bounced from the red booths, through the white walls, and down the black and white titled floors.
"What are you doing?" Ash screeched, to which Misty looked at him in mock-astonishment, shaking her head slowly side to side.
"I'm sorry, I can't contain myself! My ovaries are just vibrating with the need to express how amazing you are." Since his hands were already grasping at hers, she squeezed them in return for effect, and Ash snapped them away and slapped his blushing face to hide his reaction.
In return, Misty sat back, titled her head innocently to one side, and smiled merciless at him. Her lips curled up in the same fashion her victory smirks had when they were children—a feature that didn't change, unlike the rest of her appearance. Her hair was longer now, no longer the Cerulean City gym leader, she no longer had to wear her hair short, it was, however, always tied back into a bun, or a pony tail, or a braid. Her attire changed drastically over the years as well, she wore more reds and blues, and yellow vests over the top of ted tank tops and long blue jeans. Rather than settling for gloves, she wore wrist bands with league markings; that way, she wouldn't have to wear the official Elite Four uniform. Along with her attire, her body, like Ash's, went through many changes, nothing short of turning the boyish Misty into a sculpted work of feminine art, that she sooner kicked to the curb for an athletic physic, and freckled skin.
"You're a horrible person." Ash uttered behind his fingers before letting them drop to his lap in utter defeat. His cheeks still burned red, and Misty's lips curled inwardly, and she mock-touched her chest and swallowed.
"Thank you, that means so much coming from you."
Then he kicked her under the table and scowled playfully at her. "Stop being a witch!" He yelped to which she kicked him back, laughing like children.
Brock sat up. "Stop it, this is why I can't take you two anywhere! Would it kill you two to act like normal people?" Brock gasped, his cheeks red from lack of air, and tears at the corners of his eye. He was still catching his breath when he spoke and this time, Ash rested his elbows on the table and nodded his chin at him.
"You're just mad that Misty hit on the waitress first." Ash shot out, eyebrows narrowed and smirking. Misty joined the gaze by leaning far from Brock, and cupping her cheek with one hand.
"I-" Brock gasped. "I have a girlfriend!" He dropped the bomb, grasping for straws—because deep down, the natural 'Brock-instinct' has been fighting the urge to jump at the waitress for the last three hours they were sitting in the diner.
"What?" Ash and Misty gasped in unison.
"Blow-up dolls don't count!" Misty added, followed with a remark by Ash.
"Is she here right now?" Ash asked, clearly insulting Misty who whipped her head back at him.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, clearly misunderstanding while Ash quickly gestured to the air around him.
"I mean, imaginary."
"Oh shut the heck up." Brock bellowed, face coated with a deep scowl. "She is real and she is not a blow-up doll, either!" He whispered in a serious tone, smacking Misty on the arm while he spoke.
Then again, they shouldn't have been surprised, the fresh-out of school Pokemon Doctor probably had a lot of ladies running after him, but dating, that was weird.
"When did this happen?" Misty groaned, a bit offended he waited until now to tell them. While Ash was a hit-or-miss conversation wise, Brock and Misty spoke frequently, primarily because she sent a lot of trainers off to his clinic; in her defense, she was keeping him in business.
"Well, about two months ago..."
"With who?" Ash's mouth was still open in disbelief that his friend would be dating—then again, being older than both he and Misty, it was only a matter of time.
Then, a blush, a large, scarlet blush that started at his neck, and slowly worked up to his forehead. He pulled at the collar of his button up shirt, and cleared his throat. Where Misty and Ash had both changed a lot respectfully, Brock looked the same, only larger. His eyes were still narrowed to a slit, his skin was still dark, and his hair still pointy; the biggest changes came in his attire, and his broad shoulders. He easily towered over both Ash and Misty at 6'5", and became the notion of the prominent Rock type trainer he always should have been; a delicate, large, masculine trainer; but still Brock. Since graduating from the Johto region's pokemon medical school, he stopped wearing casual clothes, and re-opened his wardrobe with suits and ties, and a professional appearance of vests, and slacks. If he was going to be helping people, he believed he should always look the part. Misty never argued, and Ash didn't really care about appearances.
"Well...you both already know her."
"Okay..." Misty nudged him in the arm, bouding her confidence in him.
"Lucy, the former frontier brain." Brock blurted out, and the both sat back.
"Oh man, so that ship did come back?" Ash chuckled, though Misty looked personalty offended.
"The snake girl?" She hissed, then looked at Ash, then back at Brock. Her features relaxed, upon seeing the happiness danced over Brock's face upon mentioning her, and she let the awkwardness that was Lucy slide. "I mean, you're both odd enough that it could work." Misty observed and mentally, she and Ash highfived in agreement.
"She's not odd." Brock said. "She's a wonderful, beautiful woman who knows everything there is to know about me. Lucy is the most amazing woman I've ever met and..." He started off, and Ash cuffed his cheeks on the table.
"Brock, she's gotta be weird to date you." Ash observed, and Brock's glow faded, replaced by a glare.
"I thought you were on my side?" He wagered and Ash threw his arms up in defense.
"I am on your side. I'm just saying. Lucy's nice, she's just, well." He paused. "Never mind, you're perfect for each other." Ash managed, rather than throwing out how odd the two of them were. That's what made them 'perfect' for one another, right? Misty was still on the fence, but shrugged.
"Congratulations. I guess that means you'll be the first to start spitting out children. I demand one named Cesar Salad." She pat him on the shoulder while he groaned loudly, and rolled his eyes. Ash stiffed a laugh at the long lost memory of their terrible code names.
"Tom." Ash bellowed, covering his mouth to keep his voice down. "Name one Tom."
"Could you two stop! This is why I can't tell you anything; you make everything into a big joke!" Brock suddenly snapped, ruining the moment. In seriousness, both Ash and Misty's backs straightened at Brock's clear offense.
"...Sorry Brock, we're just playing." Misty offered apologetically, but Brock looked away from the two of them, crossing his arms.
"Sometimes you two play too much! This is serious for me."
"And we're seriously happy for you." Ash said quickly in his best attempt to rectify the problem. Brock slowly looked over his two old friends, and saw the honest sincerity behind their eyes and hunched forward a bit sadly.
"I just really like her, I don't want anything to go wrong." His voice hung in their air with a calmness that made the two of them smile.
"And so long as you act like yourself, I'm sure it'll be fine." Misty assured him, clasping his shoulder warmly.
"Thanks." He chuckled. "You two really are the best friends a guy could have."
"Aren't we?" Ash echoed, stroking his chin. Misty glared.
"There you go, Brock; you've inflated his ego again." She joked, though Ash stuck his tongue out at her.
The rest of their evening was spent trading interesting stories; less of Ash bragging about his most recent heroic deed (mostly because Misty would embarrass him for gloating), and of Brock awkwardly expressing his undying devotion forLucy. Misty occasionally talked about her time as an Elite Four member, but what the conversation was truly drawn to as they stumbled out of the diner at 2:00am, was Ash.
"So." he started, catching the brisk, winter air while he tucked his scarf up around his nose, and his jacket closer to his body. "I have some news, too, actually." Ash grunted, unable to look at his companions. His nerves were on fire. Misty and Brock looked worriedly at one another, each pulling on their own winter coats and scarves.
"What's up, Ash?" Misty wondered aloud, watching his back as he turned to look at his friends.
"I finally got accepted."
A long pause whistled between them, the gentle late night breeze tickled their noses, reminding them of the forever growing chill in the air. One by one, their stoic expressions lifted, Brock and Misty's lips curled from frowns into wide grins, and they exhaled pleasantly. Brock clapped in a bout of excitement while Misty threw herself forward in glee, and draped her arms around Ash's shoulders, fighting the urge to jump up and down in excitement. At the sudden embrace, Ash puffed and tapped his hands against her back while she squealed happily into his ear: the go-to noise to know that any female was excited. After squeezing the life out of him, she separated to shake him violently, gripping his shoulders.
"You made it into the Master's Program!?" She yelped, disturbing the tranquility of the world around them with her cries; her sudden excitement dug into Ash's stomach, eliciting his own harrowing roar while he looked into her sea-green eyes.
"Yes!" He cried, and then Brock joined in, grabbing both Misty and Ash and shaking them both happily.
"Man, it's about time! You've come so far!" Brock sung, pulling his too companions into a warm hug. Both grunted and blew their hair from their face; but accepted the embrace, and enjoyed the sentimental group prosperity.
When they separated, it was as if they were all staring at different people; no longer the bratty teenagers and children they used to be—full fledged, growing adults, and one by one they scoffed and smiled.
"Why didn't you tell us sooner, you dork?" Misty questioned punching him in the upper arm gently.
"I was going to, but I got caught up in everything else. I wanted you two to be the first to know." He looked at them both warmly, his large, brown eyes twinkling in the night sky. Nothing on earth could express the gratitude he held for these two individuals; the people who, if they hadn't been apart of his young life, he might not be standing here today; the trio that started it all. Tears pulled at the edges of his eyes, and Misty swat him in the chest.
"Don't you start crying!" She shouted, knowing well enough that Ash always wore his emotions on his sleeves.
"Wow, it's hard to believe we've all come so far, huh?" Brock gestured to his professional look, and Misty grinned.
"Of course we have. We've worked our asses off." Misty suggested, and her former companions nodded.
"You know, Kanto is apart of the Master's Cup this year, while you're here collecting advanced badges, we should all travel again; like the old days."
Misty reeled backwards, stuffing her cold hands into her pockets. Ash pursed his lips in thought.
"That's a great idea!" Ash followed, snapping his fingers.
"That would be the day, huh? Ten years later and we all start traveling together again." Misty mocked, but the moment Ash looked to her, she smacked her lips.
"I would have to destroy your bike again."
"Like hell you would, Ash." She grumbled while Brock nudged the two of them.
"I'm serious. It could be a lot of fun. I can easily take a month off to travel." Brock suggested and Misty scrunched her face. It wasn't difficult for her to take time off, either, but she never liked to. Brock and Ash were already on board; but she wasn't convinced she wanted to go. It was almost even years since her last time on a journey, and her feet ached just at the thought. Then he looked at her and bat his eyes.
"C'mon, Mist. It'll be just like the old times!" Ash offered, and with a response like that; how could she say now? The redhead rolled her eyes, licked her lips; and then nodded slowly.
"Alright. I'll take a month off—but if I get a challenger, I have to be at the indigo plateau, no excuses." She refrained, and Ash and Brock highfived happily. "And we're not taking any 'short cuts'." She warned him, but the duo already turned away, and started mapping out their meeting time with one another, leaving Misty to sigh in the back.
By 3:00am, they were at a cross roads; Brock needed to return to Pewter City to put in a notice, and Misty had to return to the Indigo League plateau for her own time off request. They still had a few weeks before the start of the Master's Program, but once the journey started; it would be a six month, never ending journey until the finals; where Ash would finally take on other champions to become the next Pokemon Master.
They hugged, shared short goodbyes, and agreed to meet Ash in Pallet Town in exactly one week. They would spend the next week preparing their route, and would leave together as a group at the start of March.
After a brief farewell, they parted, and Ash took the day route to Pallet Town. Pikachu was at Professor Oak's laboratory, waiting on a liter of pichu's with his little pikaete that Ash found and befriended on one of his earlier travels. The only time pikachu ever willingly went into his ball was the moment he realized his little spawns were going to be born halfway across the world, and the fastest way to get there was through pokemon transfer. Ten years, and it took the bonding moment of becoming a father for pikachu to return to his pokeball for only a split second.
Ash grinned to himself as he set up came in the early morning, expecting only a few hours of sleep before heading toward Pallet Town.
XOXs
Ash's mother wasn't expecting him. After years of travel, he usually left her a voicemail indicating when he would be stopping in, but today was different. Given the exciting news that he had, he wanted to tell her in person, surprise his mother! After ten years, he was finally going to obtain his dream!
So, when Ash approached his house of twenty years, looked at the front door to see a man quite a few years older than him with black hair, and tanned skin bursting out of the front door; he was surprisingly startled. The man did not pause to glance at Ash, he barely acknowledged Ash's existence before brushing past him in a hurry. However, Ash was never a judgmental person, and the only assumption he offered, was that that man was in a hurry.
Stepping into the door that was left wide open, Ash kicked off his shoes, and hat. Prior to coming to his mother's house, he stopped in to check on pikachu—but like he imagined, the mouse was not leaving his new family, and while Ash adored him, and the new liter, Ash needed to see his mom.
Shoes off, hat gone, and removing his winter folds; Ash inhaled.
"Mom, I'm home!" he hollered through the house.
A startled 'eep' echoed from the kitchen, just to the right of the entrance, down the hall a ways. Followed by the quick sound of shuffling paper on a hard wood desk, and the smashing of a glass. Ash bolted forward, alarm filling into his bones when he stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, staring at his mother who was disheveled for 5:00pm, with her hair tied into a mess; still dressed in her house robes. Clearly, upon hearing Ash, she attempted to clean up; but made matters worse. Water was spilled over the documents she was hording over the tables; a blind array of words that Ash couldn't make heads or tails off, and the container at fault was left shattered on the floor.
Delia, wobbly in her seat, tried to paw at the object with her bare hands, but Ash grabbed her, set back up in her chair, and went to grab a broom and dustpan.
"Jeeze, what's wrong, mom?" Ash asked skeptically, though not worried. He figured she was sick, maybe a little off center, but shortly after speaking; she darted from her seat, and to the kitchen sink where she then proceeded to vomit for an exception amount of time. The smell was bad enough, but when he realized the clear fluid splashed over the documents wasn't water, and the shattered object wasn't a glass, rather a bottle, his face mixed with worry.
"Have you been drinking?" He questioned, knowing well that his mother wasn't a big drinker. In fact, she warned Ash that if he drank before he was twenty-five, she would personally end him. Because of her anti-drinking habits, Ash never wanted to. So this was...
"Are you okay?" He asked, sweeping up the glass so she wouldn't cut her bare feet on the pieces. He dumped the fragments into the garbage, and left the broom beside the trash when he approached his mother, and grasped her hair.
Thanks to a few routines with Dawn, Brock, Misty and her sisters, Ash wasn't completely oblivious to the nature of alcohol—even if he never partook himself—he knew to hold a girl's hair. His mother lurched again, her shoulders rattling under the white house coat while Ash rubbed her upper back smoothly, trying to calm her down. The smell made his stomach turn, but he wasn't going to leave her. It was his mom, after all.
Moments passed before Delia comfortably moved from the sink, back to the chair where he found her prior. Ash couldn't stomach the stench of bile, so he flicked on the tape, and stalked away from the sink with the garbage disposal turned on.
Naturally, the young adult rubbed his mother's shoulder while she groaned below him, resting her head on the table.
"Mom." he tired again. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine." She offered, wiping her nose and eyes and then grasping at her forehead. Her hair was matted to her face and neck, and Ash did his best to brush it down. "Oh, I didn't want you to see me this way; why didn't you call?"
"Well, I was trying to surprise you." Ash joked. "Surprise?" He offered again while she chuckled at her sons constant sweetness.
"It's a wonderful surprise, but I was in the middle of paperwork, and...ugh." She sighed, looking at the mess the alcohol created; all of her work, whatever it was, was ruined under the smell of toxic vodka. Rubbing a knot from her shoulders, Ash titled his head to the door.
"So, who was that man leaving the house?"
"No one." She snapped, suddenly rolling her shoulders to avoid her only son's touch, and swiping at the wet documents to clean them.
"No one?" Ash scoffed, though not rudely. "Didn't seem like no one; he was in a hurry."
"I don't want to talk about it!" She snapped, her voice screeching. Ash bounced backwards, rushing to the sink to click it off, and then collecting a glass for his mother while she frantically picked up the wet parchment.
"Sorry.." he uttered below his breath before approaching her again, this time holding a glass of clear water.
Delia took the water carefully, then while she sipped the fluid, she muttered under her breath.
"I never meant for it to get this far out of hand..." She tried. "They're trying to reposes the house." Ah, that explained the drinking, Ash thought while taking a seat beside her. He looked over the numbers on the ruined papers; gathering together many bills, a few re-financing requests that were denied, and finally his own, personal pile of fuck-ups. Hospital bills, travel money, tournament entry—loss money. All of that came from his mother's bank account; a bank account that until recently, was being fed a constant source of income from his long-gone father, who ever that was.
...except, when Ash turned eighteen, those checks stopped coming in, and it only took him a few moments to gather that information.
"Holy...mom, why didn't you tell me about any of this?" He asked, flipping through a folder that marked her current liabilities—Ash being the number one, but also because Delia hadn't worked in a few years, she had racked up living expenses on poke-cards and financial allowances; in other words, she was in debt worse than the Cerulean City gym was when Misty took it back over at the age of thirteen!
"What have you been doing with the tournament money I've been sending you?" Ash questioned, and Delia sighed, rubbing her temples while Ash tried to reorganize the salvageable paperwork.
"Paying for some long-standing hospital bills, and just normal living expenses." Delia said quietly. She worked a moderate, part time job at the gardening community; mostly because Pallet Town didn't offer much else; but also because Ash never wanted his mother to work more than she had too; but if she wasn't paying the bills; she was supposed to tell him. That was the deal between the parent and child when the parent was single. They Helene each other; Ash and Delia had since he first left on his journey.
"Mom," Ash paused. "You can't lose the house." Ash gestured to the paperwork, when she pointed at the remaining balance she owed, then at the outstanding bills: totaling close to 100,000 thousand, Ash swallowed hard.
"I knew this would happen. We did good though, huh? Most single parents manage an apartment, or a shack—we had it good here, right?"
"Mom, don't talk like that." Ash whined, but his mother already gave up—first with the drinking, and now with the house.
"It's unfair, if he hadn't left we wouldn't be here; the checks stop coming in, and I can't find a job an—" She started sobbing, pulling at her face with her thin, pale fingers, and like the good son that he was, he closed his arms around her shoulders, and rest her head on his shoulder; the same way she used to when Ash would run home crying after a rather unpleasant bullying session with Gary.
"It'll be okay mom, we'll figure something out."
Because they were Ketchum's, they always did. A Ketchum couldn't be stopped; everyone knew that.
XOXs
By 6:00pm, pikachu returned to the house, and Ash managed to convince his mother to finally lay down, and was throwing together some rice and chicken—the only thing he knew how to cook well.
"Cha..?" The mouse squeaking, coming through the kitchen window. It pawed at the drying documents Ash hung around the kitchen with string and watched as Ash's shoulders fell.
"It's nothing, buddy. Mom's just... having some problems." Ash explained quietly, rolling the rice into the chicken broth. Sitting at the table, the mouse yawned, and then hopped down, then back up to Ash's shoulder, nudging him a bit.
"Pika." The mouse complained, calling Ash a liar.
His lips pursed. "You're right. I am lying." he laughed. "But..."
He wasn't sure what to say, or even what he was feeling. Since Ash was a little boy, he didn't know who is father was; and frankly, he never cared. Delia mentioned him off and on, blurbs of life events where his father and him did something alike here and there, but Ash never truly missed the man. It was hard to miss someone he never met before; besides, his mother was everything he needed. She was his mother and his father for all of his childhood; she went to all of his sporting events, and still completed all the traditional motherly tasks. Ash didn't need a father, when he had his mother.
But...on days like this, and they weren't very often, he must admit, he wanted to find the old man just to punch him square in the face. Give him a piece of his mind—ask the geezer how he could leave someone as amazing as his mother and unborn child.
That's right.
His blood father left before Ash was ever born; leaving a seventeen year old Delia alone in Pallet Town during the worst years of Kanto Region history. Somehow, she scraped together the money to rent the house they're staying in; and for the majority of Ash's baby life, she worked a full time job to pay rent until eventually buying the mortgage. When Ash was around five, the 'baby checks' as he lovingly called them, started coming in: the money his father was required by law to pay his mother; but nothing more. Never a letter, or a note; a simple "Hi, how's it going". Whoever he was, he had no interest in Ash, and Ash had no interest in him.
That would probably never change.
...Except for when his mother was like this. Personally, Ash could never imagine losing someone like that; according to Delia, and some stories from Professor Oak, it was more than the story-book love at first sight, it was perfection, twisted into the ropes of destiny, and they both fell hard. They spent close to a year together before his mom found out she was pregnant with Ash; an expression that resulted in the near-immediate termination of her relationship with the father. When she tried to find him again later; Delia discovered that not only had he lied about 'being together forever', he lied about his name, and address, and hometown—everything.
Bartholomew Ihsotas, for which Ash was given the middle name, did not truly exist anywhere in this stratosphere; and she knew, because whether she knew that Ash knew or not, at one point; she hired a private investigator to find him. Shortly after, that's when the baby checks started rolling in; unfortunately, he never made an appearance and the effort was fruitless.
Ash shifted the cooked rice and chicken onto a cool burner, and flicked the stove off before stumbling into the hallway.
He, Ash Ketchum, had exactly one picture of his father. A ripped and torn picture of Delia, and her group of friends when they were teenagers that hung beside the oldest picture of Ash and original companions. The man's face was hidden from the glare of the sun, aside from his large, dorky smile and dark hair; a feature Ash adopted. There were times when he would look up to his mother as a child, and watch her burst into tears over a simple smile.
A normal childhood, a normal family, a happy family; deserved better, to be happy. Were words Ash was familiarized with as a child—Delia said them nonstop during her worst depressions; she wanted Ash to always be happy, to have a normal, happy life, but what she was always blind to see; was that Ash did have a normal life, all because of her amazing strength. It wasn't the easiest, but he had no regrets.
...then again, it wasn't like Ash had the love of his life abandon him, either.
At the thought, Ash turned from the picture, and started down the short hall of group photos; there were so many, he was surprised that Delia kept them all; but she kept everything. She was the 'perfect' doting mother. Scrapbooks of Ash's every waking moment from the time he was a baby, until he turned ten.
Don't forget to change your underwear and brush your teeth! Were the highlights of his childhood.
...How could Delia think she did a bad job?
Slowly, he traced his steps back into the kitchen with a silent, thoughtful pikachu perched on his shoulder; seeming to think the same thoughts as Ash while he gathered the simple dinner into a bowl, and collected a spoon for his mother to eat with. Passing endless photos, decorations, and tidied guests rooms, he approached his mother's bedroom at the end of the hall where he left her only a few minutes prior, and tapped on the door.
"Mmmm." His mother groaned from the bed, and a patient Ash nudged open the door with his foot, and approached her.
"I brought you some food, did you finish your water?" Ash wondered aloud while she forced herself to sit up. Her hair was even more of a mess now, sticking up in every direction. He chuckled to himself, and placed the bowl on her lap, over the blankets so it wouldn't burn her. Watching as the steam curled happily from the bowl around the air circling her fingers and directly into her nostrils she almost broke down in tears again.
"How did you turn out so good?" She whined, flicking the rice with her spoon, Ash felt sweat down his back while pikachu popped into the bed beside Delia to have ear-scratches.
"And you, too, pikachu, you're wonderful, too." She gushed and then Ash chuckled.
"We learned from the best." Ash assured his mother with a happy, earnest smile. "Now, why don't you get some rest, and I'll go down and talk to the insurance company tomorrow morning." In the same way she had done for him when he was a child, Ash fluffed her pillow, placed it behind her, and then brushed her hair from her face.
"Let me know if you need anything, I'll be down stairs for the rest of the evening." Ash told her, earning a nod, and then with pikachu at his heels once more, he left her to her recovery and thoughts.
As he made his way back down the stairs and into the living room, he thought bitterly about so much for giving her good news. Ash hated seeing her this way. It was torture. His mother was supposed to smile, and laugh, and spend forever plucking at a garden, not worrying about paying bills... However, if Ash won the Master's Cup, he could honestly say she wouldn't have to worry about them again. Being dubbed a Pokemon Master was almost like being dubbed a king; he would easily make six figures, and could take care of his mother for the rest of her life; something he, as the dutiful, slightly mama's boy that he was, would do in a heart beat.
...Something that his father should have done. Whoa, where did that aggression come from? He wondered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He most have been more tired than he thought. Needing to get out of his own mind for a few minutes, he grabbed the remote control for the television, and clicked on the screen while flopping onto the red couch in the living room.
Everything would be better when he finally obtained his title, once and for all. Who needed a father, anyways?
Author's Note:
Apart of me knows that if the characters could ever age, Misty would be that really sarcastic friend with a silver-tongue of embarrassment. I also imagine that Ash and misty, if they kept in contact and remained good friends, would have 'playful' 'teasing' (kind of flirting) banter.
Delia strikes me as the well meaning, but horrible financially stable mother. Plus, plot, sorry Delia; love ya. D:
Ishotas is Satoshi written backwards; because I'm unoriginal and couldn't think of a good last name. Bartholomew comes from the other ageless character of the 21st century: Bart Simpson. Ash is a little bit of a trouble maker, too; so I always thought the middle name was suiting.
Their ages follow the original manga here, since I'm pulling a large amount of resource from that; So Ash is twenty, Misty's twenty-two, and Brock is twenty-five, respectfully.
Legal-Eagle has been asking me about a fic about Ash's father for a very long time, and while I have full intention to make this a full fledged story, I have sooo many ideas about Ash's father, that I don't even know where to start; but I do know I want them all in the same fic. However, I argue that you can't have a story about who Ash's father is, without having a story about who Delia is, and I have a million wonderful headcanons for that woman. The first and foremost is that Ketchum is not a married name. It is -her- last name.
Oh, I should also mention that for a lot of the story boards I've been making, the reason I haven't posted first chapters or etc, is because I don't want to get heavy into posting another story until Locked Away is finished; I'm not sure I've ever officially put that on any of the chapters thus far? So let me know which ones you think I should write first? I was kind of on the cop one, atm, but I'd like to know what you guys think.