Hey Everybody! Well, it's only been two years and ten months since my last update. Not too bad right?

. . . right?

In all seriousness, I apologize for the delay. I am not exaggerating when I say I have had absolutely no time to work on this story in the last (almost) three years. I won't go into detail, but just know life tends to get more hectic the older you get.

Anyway, here is Chapter 75! I hope y'all enjoy. If you do, please REVIEW. Additionally, this chapter is dedicated to AshAndMistyForever, who went back and reviewed every single chapter of this story back in 2020. Over the next few weeks I intend to dedicate each chapter I upload to a different fan who motivated me to come back. You guys were – and are – my inspiration.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon or any of its affiliated companies including, but not limited to, 4Kids, The Pokémon Company, Game Freaks, or Cartoon Network. The characters written within this story are solely based upon the fictional characters created by these companies, and the story is not meant to, at this time, receive any monetary funding.

Characters' Ages:

Ash: 18

Misty: 19

Ash was whisked off by Chris to an office in the back upon arrival. He locked the door behind them.

"So. We're all here."

Steven and Cynthia shook Ash's hand. "It's a shame this is the reason for our reunion."

"I still can't believe it. Didn't the doctors say he was doing better?"

Cynthia shook her head. "With things like this, you can never know. His body seemed to be healing, but the brain is a different matter. He'd been in that coma for—what—eight months?"

"Yeah," Steven answered. "The doctors always said the sooner he woke up, the better. It didn't look good as more weeks passed. Still, though…"

Chris sat in the funeral director's chair. "So are we sure we can rule out foul play?"

"Officer Jenny says the police ran a full toxicity report. Everything came up negative."

Chris snorted. "Yeah, because Officer Jennys have been so competent up till now. Ingrained bureaucratic families make the best police officers."

"I know, I know, but still. The doctors said the same thing. Besides who'd want him dead?"

"I mean, Team Rocket?" Ash ventured.

"Not likely. Sure, they're mad, but all our intel shows that Rocket has gone deep underground. They might actually be gone for good this time."

"Really?"

"There's no rightful heir to the throne. Giovanni Junior disappeared with no children. The only other candidate would be his brother, Silver, but that guy's squeaky clean – though a little abrasive."

Ash shrugged. "They could just choose someone not related to Giovanni, then."

Chris paused. "Yeah, but the last time they did that, it didn't work out so well. About twenty years ago, after they were first defeated in Kanto, a bunch of grunts came out of the woodworks to try and revive the Team in Johto. The whole thing fell apart pretty quickly without Giovanni Senior there to lead it. Lance was a big part of that break-up, actually."

"For better or worse, Giovanni and his son were both dynamic leaders," Cynthia added. "They could take a bunch of punks and turn them into a legitimate syndicate. Without that leadership, my guess is Team Rocket falls apart pretty quickly."

"Okay, so assuming no foul play, are we good?" Chris asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Has anyone seen anything to suggest their region's under threat?"

Cynthia, Steven, and Ash all shook their heads.

Chris stood back up. "Well, that's good, I guess. Though I'll admit part of me was hoping Lance had been attacked."

"I know what you mean," Cynthia agreed. "Somehow, it just feels so wrong that he survived, only to be taken from us now for no reason."

"We won, and he didn't even get to see it," Steven sighed.

"I hadn't thought of it like that." Ash looked down as tears welled in his eyes once more. "Lance died helping to save me and Misty. We never got to thank him."

Cynthia hugged and held Ash for a moment. "It's hard, I know. This isn't the first time someone in the G-Men has lost their life, but it never really gets easier."

"It's not fair," Ash cried. "It's not fair that no one knows what happened to him. Why it happened to him. This whole cover-up is so stupid."

"That's just how it is." Chris gave a small shrug. "I don't really like it, either, but if people knew we existed, it wouldn't end well."

Ash pulled away. "But why wouldn't it? Wouldn't knowing the G-Men are protecting them make people feel safe?"

"The police would be embarrassed, politicians would want to get involved. It would be a huge mess, and would distract from our actual work. The work that matters."

"He's right, Ash," Steven continued. "If we worried about recognition, it would be too much of a distraction from what's important. Let the police have their medals and press conferences – that's not what we're about."

"I know. People should know who saved them, though."

Steven gripped his shoulder. "You know. That's enough."

Chris stood up. "I don't really want to, but I guess we should get out there and mingle."

The others agreed and they walked back to the parlor. Moments later, everyone filed to the chapel across the street. Cameras and reporters lined the road as the Champions, friends, and family made their way up the stone staircase and into the holy house. Several called out to Ash for comment, but he only gripped Misty's hand tighter and looked ahead.

The church was built in the gothic style, with a high-vaulted ceiling that spired toward the heavens, and tall, skinny stained glass windows that lined the walls to the left and right as one entered. Ahead lay Lance in his casket, beneath a powerful, golden statue of Arceus. Above the statue, an enormous circular stained window bathed the service hall in golden light. It displayed a scene of the universe's creation.

As they turned into the pews, Ash was surprised to see the other champions following him.

"Don't you guys wanna sit closer?"

"We're all here together. You were just as much Lance's friend as we were."

"Really?"

"You've been a champion for two years, kid," Steven answered. "Get used to it. We're stuck together."

The service was a beautiful one. After the priest, several family members made statements. Near the end, the priest asked if anyone else had words for the departed. To their surprise, Steven stood up, and made the long walk down the carpeted aisle.

Getting to the podium, he looked back at his friend, before clearing his throat and leaning towards the microphone.

"This man," he pointed back, "was the worst."

Stunned silence.

"He never, uh…well he never backed down from a challenge—even if it was one which should have been avoided. The day he died, well…I know the news says it was an accident, and it was. But, he died helping people. Saving their lives, in fact. Earlier, one of the people he saved told me it wasn't fair that people don't get to know the full story, but the truth is that's just the kind of man Lance was. He didn't care for the glory, he just wanted to help."

He cleared his throat again.

"Yeah, so like I said, he's the—well, he was the worst. Never backed down from challenges. Always thought he was God's, or Arceus's, I guess, gift to mankind. He was full of himself and wore a cape like a discount Superman."

To his own surprise, Ash couldn't resist the smile creeping on his lips. To his right, he saw Cynthia doing the same.

"Yeah, he was the worst. He was the Kanto and Johto champion for a combined thirty years, which made him think he was better than me or Ash or Cynthia. But I personally loved reminding him about how he lost both those titles at different times to three little kids. For some reason, he didn't like that so much."

More people in the audience began to chuckle.

"Um, he was also the worst because he never let me be who I wanted to be. Most people who know me think of me as pretty reserved and quiet, but Lance never let me stay in my shell. He constantly poked and prodded, forcing himself into my life. Forcing himself into becoming," his voice cracked, "the best friend I ever had."

"Anyway, he was really the worst, because he left us. It's pretty selfish to just leave like that when you have so many people," here he gestured to the crowd, "who love you and care about you. But that was Lance. He was the worst, and I'll miss him."

He gave a slight bow to the audience and returned back to his seat.

To Ash's surprise, Goodshow was the next to step up. Unlike Steven, he drew notecards from his breast pocket, beneath his long, white beard.

"Lance and I didn't see eye-to-eye on everything. Steven mentioned that we can't know all the details of the events that led to this, and similarly I must admit I can't divulge why I stripped Lance of his title."

"What I can say, though, is that it was a mistake. A mistake that I rectified too late to matter to the Champion of Kanto and Johto. He deserved better than that—to die thinking he'd been publicly disgraced. I can't fix what I've done, but I can apologize to his loved ones." At this he looked to the front row, where Lance's mom, Clair, and the Dragon Clan Elder sat.

"I am truly sorry. I should have trusted your son, grandson, and cousin, and not let my anger get the best of me as it did." He looked up. "Lance was an amazing trainer, but more importantly, he was an impressive Champion. For those of you who don't know, the job of a champion is much more than signing autographs and battling."

"A regional champion is expected to act with honor. To show compassion to Pokémon and people alike. To ensure the trainers in their region are safe. To make sure that the gym leaders who work under them are taken care of." At this, he nodded to Ash.

"And, most importantly, to defend all Pokémon and people within their region from the dangers our world can present. Living in harmony with Pokémon is a delicate balance, and the champions began their reign centuries ago to guarantee that—if that balance were ever lost—they'd be there to correct it. Lance fulfilled all of these duties without hesitation. He leaves this world with a reputation many would envy. I am sorry that I mistakenly tried to sully it."

A few more people spoke before it was time for the procession. The four, along with Lance's grandfather and cousin, were all asked to be pallbearers for the ceremony. The casket was heavy, and Ash focused on staying in step out of the church and into its adjoining graveyard. Paparazzi still lined the sidewalk, now silently snapping pictures as the grieving family and friends passed by.

Lowering the casket onto the carrier, they stepped back and listened as the priest commended Lance's soul. He then held up a pokéball.

"Being a faithful member of the Dragon Clan sect, Lance believed in the spiritual connection between dragon Pokémon and humans. Two days ago, my faith in our sect's beliefs was strengthened."

He looked at the pokéball. "You see, Lance's most prized Pokémon, Dragonite, stayed by his master's side the entire time he was in the hospital. Morning, noon, and night, Dragonite stood guard, awaiting his master's return. He was racked with guilt, having been present at the accident. We all know this is ridiculous; that there was nothing that he could have done. But Dragonite didn't care for excuses. He loved his master, and when Lance passed last week, apparently the famed spiritual connection between the two was more powerful than the laws of medicine. For no reason science can explain, Dragonite became terribly ill. I'm told Nurse Joy did everything she could, but was unable to save him. So here today, we commend not one soul, but two to Arceus."

He opened the casket once more and placed the pokéball beneath Lance's crossed arms.

"May they soar together through the cosmos, as they did for so many years here on Earth. And may Dragonite find the peace that proved so elusive in his last months with us."

With an "Amen," the casket was lowered beneath the bright green grass.

After a final prayer, they were told they could return to the funeral home for refreshments and to talk, away from prying media eyes.

Walking back, Misty clenched Ash's hand. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"No."

"Are you sure? You haven't had a bite all day?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Oh, Ash." She embraced him warmly. "I'm so sorry. I know we owe everything to him."

"I just wish I could've said thank you."

"Me too."

"How are you guys holding up?" Misty turned to see Cynthia smiling.

"We're fine. Sad."

"Of course you are!" She hugged the redhead. "My goodness, I can't imagine going through all that at your age. And now this just kind of digs it back up."

"We were saying we wish we could've at least said 'thank you' before he left. We talked about it a lot. Every week Ash would call to learn how he was doing, and we'd talk about how when he woke up we would do whatever we could to repay him."

"It's like Steven said, though. That's not the kind of man he was. I can already tell you what he would have said if you had offered to repay him." Here, she lowered her voice. "'I'm already the greatest trainer in the world. What could you give me?'"

Despite herself, Misty chuckled. "He sounds like Ash, then."

"A little, yeah. I think his champion titles and work with the G-Men made people think of him as this extremely distant, formal guy. But among our group he was always good-humored."

"I remember when you guys were training me for Paul," Ash interjected. "Steven constantly picked on him for different stuff, but Lance never took it seriously."

"He never took himself too seriously with anyone. And like Steven said, he had a way of making us all come out of our shells. I don't think we'd be the friends we are if he didn't serve as the catalyst."

"Is that Whitney?" Misty pointed.

"Yeah, she's having a really hard time of it."

"I can't imagine. If I'd lost Ash, I'm sure I'd feel the same way. Let's go talk to her."

The young, pink-haired trainer was standing alone in a corner, holding an empty cup.

"Hey Whit," Ash called as they approached. "How are you?"

They all hugged.

"Hey, Ash. I'm fine. I just feel…numb, I guess."

"I understand."

"Do you need anything?"

"Not really, no. I'm just trying to absorb it all."

"I can't imagine how you must feel. You're probably in shock."

"Uh, yeah, a little, I think. I mean, I knew this was a possibility. He was in a coma for over half a year, so it's not like the thought didn't come to me that he might not make it. But, you know, everything seemed to be calming down. You guys were reinstated as champions, and there was no new drama. I dunno. I just started to feel like things were returning to normal, and Lance waking up would be the next normal thing to happen."

"I think we felt the same. You just don't think something like this will happen to someone you know. It's always someone else."

"How are you, dear?" Lance's mom appeared, mascara running down her wrinkled cheeks. "Are you hungry?"

"No, ma'am. I'm just talking with some of Lance's friends."

The old woman's eyes brightened. "Oh, my. Yes, I recognize Cynthia and Ash. I've seen you on the television. Did you know Lance well?"

Cynthia smiled. "Yes, he was a very good friend of ours. We're so sorry for your loss."

"No mother should outlive her children. But I'm-I'm trying to hold it together."

"You don't need to worry about that," Misty comforted. "You're his mom. Everyone understands."

"That's kind of you, but really, I'm fine. Well, I don't think I have anything left in me for now, anyway."

They mingled a while more: hushed whispers and intermittent sobs filled the air.

"Uh, hey guys?" Chris tapped Ash and Cynthia from behind. "Some lawyer wants us to meet in the back."

"Lawyer?"

"Yeah. He says we're in Lance's will."

Author's Notes: So I know many of you will roll your eyes, but I intend to update at this time - midnight, Friday morning (US eastern standard time) - every week for the rest of the story. We have less than 15 chapters to go, and I really want to finish strong, so come back and check out Chapter 76, "Where There's a Will, There's a Way," next week!