.

Fits and Starts

"The muses are ghosts, and sometimes they come uninvited."

–Stephen King, Bag of Bones

It was as Misty was finally leaving that she realized that she had never truly seen Cerulean before.

Sure, Misty had left Cerulean on occasion before. She'd had to leave for Gym Leaders conferences, every year for the League, and, more frequently, were occasions like this morning, during which she had to go out of her way to do a favor for a wandering spirit.

She took a hand off her bike and yawned at the thought.

When she left she always went west, or occasionally south, because those were the directions of anything else in Kanto. So west was the direction she went today. Past her common-trod ground of Cerulean Cave and straight out of town.

And she was seeing things she had never bothered to look at before.

For once, she was a sightseer; a tourist rather than a native. And she was shocked to see that there was absolutely nothing special about Cerulean at all.

It was on the water, but not the beautiful port city that Vermillion was. It had both adorable mom and pop shops like Pallet and malls like Celadon, but it wasn't a quaint town or a metropolis. It even had its own miniature Victory Road in the Cave; it was like a miniaturized version of Kanto in a city. It was such a mix of everything that nothing really stood out.

But maybe that was why she had never felt the urge to leave before. But it was definitely why she felt a burning on her heels to get out now.

Kind of. Every other minute or so.

Because while she needed to leave, every fiber of her being was pulling at her like tiny grappling hooks to turn back. A perfect situation of being damned if you do and damned if you don't.

The adrenaline from the life changing decision and thusly carrying it out had begun to peter off only a few tender minutes into her journey. She had hopped on her bike and set off past the most familiar part of town and was now entering the outskirts. The city was a little sketchier and the thin forest at the western edge of Cerulean was not far off. These facts should have added up to increase the fervor to leave and get on with this journey, anticipation to get to that forest and experience what being a traveler really was.

But each turn of the pedals now was becoming defiant with regret. It was getting harder and harder to keep moving when her exhaustion was begging her to go home and return to bed—save her big decisions for another day.

At this point, Misty estimated that she had been awake for a day and a half; awake for over 30 hours. Wasn't that fact enough that she should turn back, maybe get a good night's sleep before she made a life altering decision?

These thoughts were following her, chasing her mind from both sides until they fired off in parallel and Misty wasn't sure which of these antagonizing ideas she should take to be her own in this moment.

Her pedaling kept faltering ever time the urge to go back was stronger. Noir was giving Misty questioning looks whenever it happened and all Misty could do was blush at her contrariety. After all, she was biking on a lazy concrete path, only the occasional car coming into sight. There was no reasonable purpose for her erratic pedaling. Unless one took a deeper look into her mind:

Should she keep going? Set up camp the second they found a secure spot in the woods and sleep blissfully through the day and night before continuing on the journey of a lifetime?

Should she turn back? Sleep in her own bed and laugh at this lapse in judgment the next day when she was creaming some youngster in a match?

Should she stay?

Should she go?

Should she stay?

Should she—

"Aaah!"

Misty let out a shrill screech as her hand twitched with indecision, sending the front of her bike wobbling right into a loose pebble, felled from the curbstone. She tumbled to the ground as her bike fell the other way in the middle of the road. She felt the sharp sting of a scrape on both her knee and her elbow, but nothing major. Still, she winced as she righted herself, still being careful of her prior injured ankle, and brushed the sandy pieces of asphalt from her wounds.

She huffed at her clumsiness and moved to drag her bike over to the curb, hoping she hadn't dented the front wheel. After a cursory inspection—directly avoiding Noir's gaze all the while—the bike appeared to be fine. Contented, Misty reached to her 'Belt and opened a PokéBall.

"Staryu, go!"

Staryu appeared in the grass on the side of the road, next to Misty.

"Staryu, could you do me a favor and clean these scrapes?" Misty exposed her elbow and her knee, sucking her breath through her teeth when Staryu released a gentle spray on them. "Thanks."

She returned Staryu and sat on the curb, careful to leave her right leg outstretched. If she looked up, she could see the tops of the trees in the forest lining the last few buildings of Cerulean City on the skyline. And if she looked down, she could see the road that was nearly a clean shot straight back to the Gym.

And if she looked straight ahead, she would see Noir frowning right in front of her face.

She put her face in her hands and let out a feral groan. "Ugh! Why is this so hard? Why couldn't I have just done this when I was ten and had no responsibilities and nothing to hold me back?"

Noir shrugged, trying her best to look sympathetic. "Bay bay nette banette bay…"

"What? If I don't go now, then what?"

An argument was fiery on the tip of her tongue, but it was snuffed out as Noir's incomplete thought was completed a million ways in Misty's mind.

Suddenly, her sleep-desiderate mind was active again, and her body followed suit, hopping back up on her bike and pedaling as fast as she could.

If she didn't leave now, Noir—her best friend—would be disappointed.

If she didn't leave now, her sisters would laugh at her sorry retreat home. And it wouldn't be from a place of unkindness, so much as just being pleased that they were right.

If she didn't leave now, there would be a bunch of Water Pokémon she would never get to see, much less catch.

If she didn't leave now, she would never have the experience of traveling as a youth.

As she pedaled faster than she ever had before, Noir flew through the air to catch up. "Nette banette?" she asked.

Misty laughed, crazed mirth fresh to her spirit. "Why?" she repeated. "It's simple. If I don't leave now…then I probably never will."

And that thought was enough to send her trailblazing out of Cerulean as fast as her bike would let her.

Spending the night in the woods wasn't as bad as Misty had anticipated. This was a small forest, not thriving on any Bug Type, or much of any Pokémon, really. Just a few Spearow here and there roosting in the trees. Besides, with Noir on watch—as she didn't need any sleep—there was nary a concern.

True to her word, she slept all day and night, recuperating from the day's Battles and fights and travels…

Wow, it had been a long day.

But she woke up the next day—at a reasonable hour—refreshed from it all and, thankfully, lacking any regrets. So, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as a Sentret, she rolled her sleeping bag and set off on her way.

And then she realized that she hadn't planned that far.

What was her way?

Misty looked to Noir, who shrugged as if to say, "I don't know."

At a loss, Misty opened her mouth, and some wisp of a sound creaked out. "Uh, why don't we just head to Pewter City? Maybe visit Brock? That should be fun."

Noir nodded, actually seeming somewhat enthused.

That always confused Misty. When she was younger, she had figured that Noir didn't like anyone except for her, since she had no penchant for kindness towards her sisters, and Misty honestly didn't ever see much of anyone else. But that didn't appear to be true, because Noir carried no dislike for Brock, or anyone else that Misty came in contact with. No dislike beyond playful jesting and sniggering, at least.

So after Misty ate a quick breakfast, she and Noir hit the road again, leaving Cerulean even further in their dust.

The trek from Cerulean to Pewter wasn't a long or challenging one if you didn't go through Mt. Moon. Sure, the tunnels were a neat little shortcut, but an over-mountain trail had been made decades ago during the war with Johto so that people and supplies could travel to Kanto's western border. What was a necessity for the time was just convenient now, as it's what travelers who weren't aching to train through Mt. Moon usually took. And since Misty's Pokémon had all gotten a good workout the day before, she figured saving the spelunking for another day wouldn't be a crime.

And it'd be better for her bike.

So over the mountain and through the woods to Brock's house Misty went. It was the lightest part of the season for the League; not too many Trainers were out and about. It was early spring, so the new ten-year-olds hadn't yet received their first Pokémon and the League was months away, so people weren't yet clamoring for their last badges. That was part of the reason why Misty had felt leaving the Gym to her sisters right now wouldn't be the end of the world. There wouldn't be any full Gym days for weeks.

The road was peaceful. Misty had learned that she was a person who appreciated her alone time. That was probably why she liked things like fishing so much and why she didn't even mind the menial daily tasks around the Gym. Time by herself—or alone with Noir, which was much the same—was precious.

And with Misty's special ability, even just passersby threatened her peace because she always had to be on edge when people were watching. But this was different. With Noir floating beside her in plain sight and no one around to recognize her, life was easy.

That's why she was in no real rush to drop in on Brock. She was riding at a very leisurely pace but even still she approximated she would make it to Pewter by dinnertime, even with brief breaks.

Hmm…dinner…

"Noir," Misty pondered, "do you think that we should let Brock know that we're dropping in?"

Noir put a finger to the corner of her mouth, looking to the sky with a thoughtful frown. "Bay."

"Yeah, we probably should."

Misty's face suddenly split into a shit-eating grin and took a hand off of her bike to slap Noir on the back. "Well, enjoy yourself!"

"Bay?"

"Well, I don't have any way to contact him, and we're in the middle of nowhere, so that leaves only one option."

Noir glared, her eyes flashing red for a moment as she faded into the landscape, though not before making a sinister gesture implying that she was watching Misty.

"Yeah, yeah." Misty waved it off casually, knowing that Noir's threats were always empty. To her at least.

Still feeling a little mischievous, Misty couldn't help but snigger at what she was sure would happen upon Noir's entry to the Gym. Right about now, Misty suspected that Noir was there, keeping out of sight and scouting for Brock, ensuring that he was alone. No nosy siblings.

Brock was the only person in the whole world that knew about Noir, besides Misty, of course, and Misty didn't need the Slate siblings finding out. Actually, she didn't want anyone else in the world to find out, if she could help it.

She wouldn't say that this was the easy way out, but it was certainly simpler than having to explain why a Water specialist was so close with a Ghost Type.

By now Misty was sure that Noir had managed to find Brock alone, or if he hadn't been, she had found a way to ensure that he would be the only one able to see her. And then she would find some way to surprise him. Mirrors, Misty knew, were Noir's favorite, but they're not always around. So her best guess was that Noir simply appeared right in front of him. Always a solid choice.

A little known fact about Brock was that while he managed to have a manly enough scream, it was usually followed by a collapse into the fetal position and effeminate cries of "Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!"

Misty laughed. It was a shame she wouldn't get to see it this time, but she knew that Noir would recount it brilliantly.

That experience, ghost-related trauma aside, would alert Brock of Misty's arrival. Sure, Brock didn't understand a lick of Banette-speech, but who else did he know that had a Banette? There weren't very many Ghost Trainers in the Kanto region, after all. Ghosts didn't have the best reputation in Kanto.

Just then, Misty heard a familiar stifled laughter and Noir appeared beside her, floating along like usual, but holding her stomach and doubled over in laughter. Misty couldn't contain herself. "It went well?"

The prodding only made Noir laugh harder, and Misty had to join in.

"God, I hate messing with Brock, but I love it too," Misty said, wiping a tear away. "We'll just make it up to him once we get there."

It became clear very quickly how Misty was going to make it up to Brock.

Babysitting.

Misty thanked her lucky stars that she had locked up her bike beside the Gym before she had rung the doorbell, because not two moments later, that heavy, stone door slid open and children bombarded her. Had her bike not been away, it surely would have had a Misty-shaped dent in it.

"Oh, goodness!" was the exclamation squeezed out of her by many tiny hands pulling her tight. "Hi, guys." She wrestled with trying to get the kids off of her and she could see Noir, who was now invisible to them, laughing at her. "Brock!"

Brock appeared a leisurely amount of time later, a rag in hand and an easy, breezy smile on his face. "Oh, Misty, so nice to see you. And so nice of you to offer to take the kids to the park while I make dinner. Really, I can't thank you enough."

And he shut the door in her face.

She would have been peeved, but really…

She deserved that.

Luckily none of the kids were young enough to be qualified as toddlers anymore, so she managed to coax all of them off her various limbs easily enough, especially when promises of the park were brought back up. It was only a short walk to the nearby playground—which apparently wasn't good enough—so instead Misty lead the kids to the farther away park like a mama Swanna leading her Ducklett.

It wasn't a bother, though, because it actually brought back fond memories of her childhood. Misty's mom and Brock's parents had known each other ever since they'd become Gym Leaders—long before Misty had been born. That was how she had met Brock. Sure, she was closer in age to Forrest, but she had been mature for her age in that introverted, introspective way of hers and had gotten along better with Brock. And his friendship had been invaluable when her mother had died.

The kids all but deserted her save for the twins, Billy and Tilly. They were the youngest and insisted on dragging her to the swings to push them. They nearly pulled her arms out of their sockets in the process. Still, she laughed all the way, taking joy in playing part in the activities of kids that she had never really partaken in.

Fortunately, it didn't take too long to tire the kids out. The twins had gotten sick of the swings and insisted on moving on to other activities. Misty probably would have keeled over if it had only been her to entertain all of them, but she had released all of her Pokémon, sans Noir…and Gyarados. She was grateful that she hadn't taken her chances with Mt. Moon, otherwise they would have been pooped and Misty would have been a goner too.

But the promise of dinner was enough to encourage the kids to trail back to the Gym. And it was more than enough for Misty. The idea of a Brock-homemade dinner sounded heavenly in comparison to the takeout and frozen meals that she frequented at home.

Nice dinner, a guest bedroom to herself with a nice bed…Yeah, Misty could get used to life on the road.

It was after she had slipped into her pajamas and under the covers that Brock managed to make his escape from the clan and poked his head through her door. "Sorry, were you going to sleep?"

"No, no," Misty said, sitting herself up. "What's up?"

Brock took it as an invitation and came up, seating himself on her bed as she scooted over to make room for him. "We haven't gotten a second to talk."

"I know," Misty said. "That family of yours is something else."

"Yeah," Brock agreed, fondness in his eyes. "So, uh, are you gonna tell me why you're here?"

Misty looked down, her bangs falling over her eyes. Brock lay down on the bed so he could look up at her face and she laughed. No escape. "Would it be childish if I told you that I ran away?"

Brock gasped. "You didn't."

Misty nodded, feeling almost embarrassed about the situation. "I did."

"Tell me this was all Noir's idea."

Her eyes couldn't help but roll in their sockets. "Well, I can't say that her role in this wasn't obvious. But I went of my own will and volition."

"And pigheadedness and impulsiveness—"

"Hey!" Misty held a hand up. "I'm rarely impulsive. Stubborn yes, but I wouldn't say impulsive."

"The Tentacruel plush."

Misty hung her head in shame. "Well played," she conceded in a reluctant mumble. As her mind shifted, desperate to change the subject from her richest flaws, she remembered something. "Oh, I wanted to show this to you."

Misty slipped out of bed and grabbed her denim shorts, feeling around in the pocket for the scrap of paper. She unfolded it and dropped it on his lap.

"What's this?"

All Misty could do was shrug. "I received it ominously in the cave yesterday."

"Received it ominously?" Brock echoed.

"Via Golbat delivery."

"Wild?"

"Probably not."

"Hmm." Brock put his thumb and forefinger to his chin, tapping with thought. "You don't think that this person really knows that you can see ghosts, do you?"

"I have no idea, Brock," Misty said, the exasperation that had been building with this note coming out fully in her voice. "What else could it mean?"

Brock was silent for a moment, his brows furrowed deep in his forehead. Then, pensively, he began, "Have you considered that maybe you're not the only person with this…ability?"

Misty was taken aback. "How do you mean?"

"Well," Brock started, "I can only assume that if someone does in fact know, they must be in the know. You know?"

"Uh, not really."

Brock sighed. "I mean, if someone else could see and communicate with the dead, they'd probably catch on real quick to someone else doing it."

"But I've never met any—"

"I know," Brock cut her off, folding the note back up and handing it to Misty. "But I'm just saying that it's a possibility."

Misty shoved the note back in her shorts and half-heartedly tossed them back in the vague direction of her bag. "I guess. I'll keep it in mind."

"Good enough for me," Brock said easily. "So this is part of the reason why you left?"

"Yep." Misty returned to the bed with a heavy plop. "No need to be worrying about stalkers in Cerulean."

"Well, I think this is good for you," Brock announced.

Misty's head shot up. "Really?"

"Absolutely," he affirmed. "Risk of stalkers aside, it's time that you stop trying to shine in your sisters' shadows. It's time that we see you in full. And, hey, you can stay here as long as you need. I only have one Battle lined up for tomorrow and I don't really expect any more, so I'll be at your beck and call."

"That's great, Brock, thanks. Just for tomorrow, and then I'll be out of your gravity-defying hair."

"Hey!" Brock sent a self-conscious hand through his hair. "You're one to talk."

"Ah," Misty said, holding her index finger up. "But I am a girl. And girls have magical powers to make them look good."

Brock's eyes widened. "I knew it."

"Mm, secrets revealed," Misty said lacklusterly as she flopped back down in bed under the covers, all but kicking Brock off. "Goodnight."

Misty woke up that morning looking forward to the Battle that Brock had mentioned so briefly in passing. She didn't know at what time it was so she had to get up pretty early to ensure that she would be dressed and ready for it. Plus, she knew it would be important to get her body back on a decent schedule after the absurdity that she had put it through the past few days.

Noir was nowhere to be found, as did happen periodically. Misty assumed that she wanted to go off and do her own thing while they had a little downtime; before they were on the road for real and constantly on the move. But Misty didn't mind. It would be nice to have time with just her and Brock.

And the siblings and the challenger and the presumed companions of said challenger. Good bonding time. But Misty was excited for the Battle nevertheless

It was true that Misty was a battler at heart, but there was almost something better about being able to watch a Battle that she was not participating in. That occasion came around once a year at the League, but otherwise for this kind of entertainment she had to turn to the TV. And watching a Battle on TV just wasn't the same at all. You couldn't feel the temperature in the room drop upon an Ice Attack being used and you couldn't hear the hiss of steam still sizzling away moments after a Fire and Water Attack collide.

Though she could do without the humidity of that particular pairing.

But this Battle was turning out to be a fine one. It was Brock's Onix pitted against a Rhyhorn, so neither had an advantage. They were only chipping away at each other, using Ground Attacks to their best abilities, but it really seemed to Misty that Brock's Onix had the advantage merely because it was twice as fast as that Rhyhorn.

Even on the sidelines, she could feel her competitive edge showing. She was trying to predict the moves before they happened, strategizing along with both Trainers. She was happy that Brock was making a lot of the same decisions that she would have and he was doing well. Which thereby meant that she was doing well.

"Onix, Dig!"

Both Onix and Rhyhorn had been going back and forth with that move, a common one in this Gym, Misty presumed. The poor man's Earthquake, as she saw it, but it really did have its benefits in both offensive and defensive strategy. And it didn't destroy the field quite as abruptly as Earthquake did, so she saw why at least Brock was using it.

They had been playing with how long either of the Pokémon stayed burrowed, and when it happened to be for a long time, sometimes the other would follow and the match would turn into an underground match, much like underwater matches at her own Gym when the challenger had a Water Type. But here they couldn't see at all, so the tensions were much higher.

Onix wasn't underground for long this time, though. Almost immediately, he shot straight up, just so that he could Tackle Rhyhorn from above when he was expecting a barrage from below. A good strategy, Misty complimented in her head, hearing it echoed out loud by the Slate siblings she had flanked on either side of her.

However, she quickly found herself distracted. When Onix shot up, she could have sworn that she saw a flicker of a figure through the dust, way up in the rafters of the Gym.

She shook her head. Must have been seeing things. It was a very dusty field after all.

She clapped her hands and rooted for this kid, happy that he seemed to have a couple of friends of his own on the other side of the stadium so that the cheering for Brock didn't get him down. Nothing against Brock's skill, but she was coming to hypothesize that some matches ended in his favor just because lone Trainers were distracted and disheartened by the cheers and jeers of his family. Forrest was even the referee—there had to be something unfair about that.

Rhyhorn began to charge towards Onix, having difficulty picking up speed because of having to avoid all the holes on the field. Onix reared back, balancing only on a few rocks on its tail, something that would be very hard to do with all its weight. It was akin to a ballerina dancing on pointe.

"Wow, it's really well-trained," Misty murmured under her breath.

"Sure is!" Cindy, one of Brock's sisters piped up.

Misty nodded absently, straining her neck up to see Onix and again she saw something flickering in the rafters, even higher this time—beyond Onix's head, which was almost brushing the ceiling. If she squinted, it actually looked like two somethings…with a subtle glow to them that she almost couldn't perceive from that far away.

Nonetheless, it was enough for her to whip her face back to the ground level of the Battle like she had been stung, and just in time. Using its height, Onix lunged and managed to catch Rhyhorn in a Bind from behind.

Now, Misty knew that usually a Normal Type Attack like that wouldn't do much against a Rhyhorn, but she could see the pain in its eyes, and even Onix's from grating the rock against rock of their skin. It was simple erosion, just like Water, Grass, or Ground against a Rock Type. Besides, the Battle had been going on a while so every little Attack was beginning to add up.

"Onix, use Smack Down."

The Rhyhorn was unfurled from Onix's tail rapidly and it was forced into the ground, creating a crater. Forrest ran to that side of the field and waited for the dust to settle, as they all did, Misty with bated breath. This should be…

"Rhyhorn is unable to battle. The Gym Leader, Brock, is the victor!" Forrest announced, unable to keep a biased smile off of his face.

Misty stood up, dragged by Tommy and Yolanda, who were almost as big as her, to do so, and began clapping and cheering. It warmed her heart to see this. Brock was doing so well for himself.

As she watched Brock walk over to the fallen Rhyhorn, Misty allowed herself a momentary glance back towards the ceiling. The figures were still there. A boy, it looked like, though she had no idea the age. And the other figure was pretty small, so definitely a Pokémon of some sort. That was strange. Misty never had seen a human ghost and a Ghost Pokémon together.

Near as she could tell, human ghosts didn't hold any more skill with Ghost Pokémon than the living did. And generally they had different concerns than finding which earthly—well, relatively—Pokémon they could befriend. So this was curious.

But not curious enough that she wanted to involve herself in it, if she could all avoid it, so she averted her eyes before the boy looked away from the battlefield.

At this point, Brock was ushering the Trainer off, assuredly wishing him better luck next time. Misty took that as her cue to get things moving.

"Okay, guys." Misty patted a Slate sibling on the back with either hand. "School tomorrow; you guys have to do your homework."

"But Brock and Forrest don't have to!"

"Yes, and when you're old like them you won't have to either. Now get."

The children reluctantly scattered, leaving her alone to walk down the bleachers to the field.

"Wow," she started, a playful grin now tugging her lips. "How in the world do you guys fix this field after a Battle like that? We only ever have to pump more water into the pool and mop the floors."

"Heh, yeah," Brock rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, "let's just say that it's good for the economy around the city."

"Always doing your part, aren't you?"

"Sure am."

The two of them walked as Misty recounted the Battle from her vantage point, complimenting and criticizing throughout. Brock couldn't help but jump in and interject here and there to defend his choices. But ultimately it was more good than bad and since Brock couldn't stand being complimented too much, they fell to piecing together the challenger's strategy.

"Wait, where are we going?"

Misty had never seen this set of rooms before. It wasn't often that she had been able to visit Brock in the past—getting away from the Gym was hard for both of them, so they'd grown rather complacent with training together in Mt. Moon—but she thought in her scattered visits she had at least seen all of the place.

"It's an addition of sorts," Brock explained. "It was always here but we renovated it and added on to it a little."

"Well, what is it?"

They walked into a room with sterile white walls and tiles, the back wall being entirely lined with nearly full shelves. Everything seemed perfectly organized, almost more like a store than a room in someone's home. It practically screamed Brock.

"It's my office."

Misty had an office in the Gym too. It was a little closet with a desk and a chair and filing cabinets with only a bare-bulbed lamp for decoration. This room was a little different. For one, it was huge big enough to fit an…

"Onix, go!"

Misty yelped and stood back as Onix filled the length of the room. Its tail was curled a little, but aside that it was a perfect fit. It had to stay low to the ground, though, as the ceiling wasn't particularly high.

When Misty turned away from Onix and back to Brock, she saw that he had put a white lab coat on and was holding some tools.

"Oh, Brock! Is this a doctor's office?"

Brock put a hand to his chin as he examined Onix under a kind of magnifying glass, and Misty couldn't tell if he was pondering it or what she'd said. "That's basically what I was going for."

She took another look around. It didn't look at all like a Pokémon Center—well, the part of a Center that she got to see—nor did it look much like a human hospital. It was more of a hybrid of a doctor's office and a laboratory.

Misty had known that Brock had ambitions of being a Pokémon Doctor. He'd taken part in some amateur breeding at the Gym before deciding to shift focus about a year or two before. She'd been surprised, but he'd said that he felt like he could give more to the world as a doctor. And she had to agree with him on that front.

"Well, this is really great!" Misty exclaimed. "You're basically a full-fledged doctor now!"

At this point, Brock had pulled away from Onix and begun writing in a notebook, which Misty now realized came from another row of shelves that she hadn't yet noticed, this one lined with textbooks and other notebooks.

"Not quite," Brock said with a good natured chuckle. He reached for what looked to be a salve and applied it to the eroded part of Onix's body from when he had used Bind on the Rhyhorn. "I still need to become certified. I've been taking online classes and so I created this space for hands on work that I'm missing from not being able to actually attend a university."

Misty nodded. It certainly seemed like it would rival any university lab to her. "They let you do that?"

Brock closed the salve and went to wash his hands. "Well, no. Not really. You do need one year of experience in University and then you move on to residency."

"So then what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to University."

Misty's eyes bugged out of her head. "What? When? Where? How?"

Brock laughed. "Don't be mad, but, in a few days—"

"What?"

"Violet City—"

"What? Brock, that's in Johto—"

"And I don't think there's a good answer to 'how'. Because I applied?"

"Brock!" Misty exclaimed, trying to shake him out of the apparent enjoyment he was getting from her reaction. "How could you not tell me?"

"I'm sorry, you're right, I should have. I just had to make so many arrangements here at the Gym, not to mention in Violet, plus, you know, it doesn't really change our relationship. Our friendship has mostly survived through the invention of the telephone."

"You're right," Misty agreed, simmering down a little. "I just can't believe I didn't know! But I'm very, very proud of you."

Misty reached in to give Brock a hug, which he was only too happy to reciprocate. "Thank you."

"Wow, a real, certified doctor," Misty mused as she pulled away. "You do know that that means that you won't have a reason to visit Nurse Joy anymore, right?"

She expected Brock to look crestfallen—if not completely heartbroken—but instead, his face twisted into an altogether unsettling smirk. "Not if I get a residency with her. Then it's Nurse Joy and me working elbow to elbow together for a few years."

Misty watched as he gave a sigh of delight and seemed to melt into a puddle of goo on the ground before her. She couldn't help but to reach up to his ear and give a hardy tug just to yank him out of his fantasies.

"Yaaaouch!"

"Whoops, sorry!" Misty quickly held her arms behind her back and looked at Brock innocently as he rubbed his very red ear.

"Yeah, I guess I needed that," Brock admitted reluctantly.

They enjoyed a couple of silent seconds in each others' company, sitting in their familiar friendship before Misty said, "Well, if you're taking off to another region in a couple of days then I guess you need me out of your hair, don't you?"

"I guess," Brock sighed. "I still need to write down a lot of emergency instructions for Forrest. But really, you need to go out there for you. Get on with the journey you never got to have. Not just because I need to go and do some packing."

Misty smiled. "I guess we're both finally going on our journeys, huh?"

"I'm going to school. You're going on a journey. But, yeah, I guess we're both living out the dreams we never really got to have."

Misty swatted his chest. "Same diff. Anyway, I should be getting off—"

"No, it's different." Brock placed an arm on Misty's shoulder. "I know you don't know exactly where to go right now, but that's okay. In fact, I think it's great. It'll help you grow and learn more about yourself. So just get out there and go. You don't need a plan."

Misty was silent for a moment, trying to let the words seep and soak as best they could. "I never come to you for a life lesson, but I always get one," she finally said.

Brock laughed. "Yeah, and don't expect that to stop just because I'm in another region, okay?"

"Definitely not," Misty affirmed, joining in his laughter.

Brock turned off the lights in the room, saying that he wanted Onix to sleep outside of his PokéBall and they left, but not before Brock snagged some items off a shelf and placed them in Misty's hands.

"What are these?"

"Essentially HyperPotions," he answered. "Homemade, though."

"Thanks, Bro—"

"Ah, ah, ah," Brock waggled his finger. "No gratefulness. No tearful goodbyes. You need to get out of here before you stay for good. I don't need another mouth to feed."

Misty smirked. "Not even a girlfriend?"

Brock blushed. "No, maybe that would be okay," he mumbled as he poked his two index fingers together.

"Bye, Brock," Misty said as she slipped the HyperPotions into her bag.

"Call me when you get somewhere with a phone. Or when you have an interesting story."

"Of course!"

Brock all but shoved her out of the Gym and Misty almost wished that the kids weren't all at school. They would have slowed it down, at least.

It was funny. She felt like she was leaving more now than she had when she'd left Cerulean, but she also felt more at peace with it. Now she was ready to go.

So off she went.

A/N: Thank you C'sMelody for your excellent beta work! You iron out my inconsistencies like I never iron my clothes.