.

Nothing Spooky

"Do not fear the ghosts in this house; they are the least of your worries."

–Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders

"You'll inform the family?"

"Yes, immediately," Office Jenny assured. "I'm sure we'll be able to return them to their custody in a few days."

"Okay, awesome, perfect," Misty said, deflating with a bit of relief. The air in her chest had been up too high, a little stifling until then, but now her lungs could sink back into place. "Thanks for your help."

"Thank you," Officer Jenny emphasized. "We're very grateful that you stumbled across these."

"Right." Misty smiled. Stumbled. "Best of luck, Officer Jenny."

"You as well." Officer Jenny's heels clicked together as she gave a sharp salute and then Misty turned to head out of the precinct.

As soon as she was out, she was met with a barrage.

"How did she look? Radiant? This Jenny's hair is a little shorter than her sisters, so I bet she was spunky. Did she seem spunky? There's only public safety, not police on campus, so I never see—Ow!"

"We might have to work on your ear-pulling skills," Misty grumbled to Ash over her shoulder as she tugged Brock along. She wasn't sure if it was Brock's total weight that counted in telekinesis, or just the weight of his ear. Or, more likely, it was some Psychic formula that she, nor Ash, would ever understand, but hopefully it favored the art of ear pulling. If Brock and Ash were going to be friends, it was basically his duty to abuse Brock's ear every once in a while.

When Misty finally released Brock from her clutches, he rubbed the now brightly terracotta-colored shell tenderly between his fingertips. Shiny tears had formed at the corners of his eyes, but that was just a reflex. She hadn't been pulling that hard.

Ash floated down beside Misty so that they were walking in step. He had a cheeky grin on his face when he said, "So you didn't go to the family and tell them that their dearly departed helped you find his missing Pokémon?"

"No, Phoebe," Misty retorted. "One, I'd hardly say that the dearly departed helped with anything. And two, totally unnecessary! Officer Jenny will take care of it. No need to expose myself when there's a solution just as good. Better, even."

"You'll have to tell her you found a middle way."

Misty smirked a bit. It'd be nice to gloat to Phoebe that her way wasn't the only way that was helpful, affirmative, and legal. Perhaps she'd call her once she made it to Ecruteak.

"Come on," Brock said, finally through with rubbing the ache out of his ear. "Was that any way to treat the guy who's going to make your dinner?"

"Yes," Misty said plainly, letting her hands drop to her hips. "But maybe it's not the way I'd treat the guy who's going to make me dinner and dessert."

Brock held her gaze for a moment, but Misty's only sharpened, challenging him to go against her. As she wasn't going to pull his ear again—once was standard, twice was cruel and unnecessary—all she had over him was her powerful stare, so she leveled it until he cracked, giving a laugh as he threw his arm over her shoulder. As they continued to walk, he said jovially, "You know, we could have been doing this the whole time."

"Me saving girls from you? Pretty sure I've been doing that for years."

"No, not that," Brock said, his voice a tad wistful. "This. Ghost hunting adventures. I could have been helping you out this whole time."

The idea rolled over in Misty's mind, picking up momentum as Noir popped in front of them, grinning knowingly before fading into second plane.

Even though Brock was the only one she'd ever let in on her secret, she'd never even considered actually letting him in on the full scope of it. Knowing about her Connection and Noir had already felt so momentous that she'd forgotten that there was more at play. More support that she could have used, perhaps, than simple venting sessions or borrowing his Crobat. That he could have distracted onlookers or helped dig holes or, hell, talked her out of a bad idea or two over the years. She'd never even let him try.

"Consider it a new era," she offered. "You've officially met a real ghost—you can now officially be in the club."

"Pika!" Pikachu insisted.

"Two ghosts—my bad," Misty corrected, grinning up at where Pikachu was perched on Ash's shoulder.

"Bay bay!"

Misty laughed. "Okay, now we're splitting hairs. Whatever the criteria, I officially state that Brock is in the club."

"That's all I ask." Brock nodded, looking self-satisfied with a not-quite smirk on his face.

"Alright, member," Misty said, yanking his arm instead of his ear. "Let's get you thinking about dessert."

The next morning came to Misty with sore limbs and aching feet.

It turned out that spelunking used different muscles than ordinary hiking, and the pounded flat dirt of Trainer paths had nothing on the smooth rock of oft-traveled cave routes, much less the craggy floors of the seldom used.

Her arms were tight, begging to stay bent, yet aching almost wonderfully when Misty stretched them above her head. It wasn't the usual pain localized in the shoulders and upper back from carrying her bag but her biceps and triceps from climbing those ladders. Even her forearm was sore, only achieving relief when she took her fingers and bent them back unnaturally, feeling that familiar stretch of over-coiled muscles loosening.

Brock made a show of feeding her one last time, sending her with homemade traveling food. Bars and rice balls and dried fruits, despite the fact that she was only spending a couple more days on the road. Still, Misty took the provisions gratefully and went on her way, her cadre of ghostly companions in her shadow.

Surprisingly, the walk west on Route 36 did more to soothe Misty's muscles than overwork them. The steady labor gently massaged out the worst of the knots, softening everything that was strung too tight or tugged too far. The only thing that continued to be made worse was Misty's feet, as per usual. She was tempted to ask Ash to carry her through the more barren parts of the path, but Misty was already seeing more Trainers than she had back in Kanto. Not because Johto was a more popular circuit—in fact, it wasn't—but because the season was just beginning and no young hopefuls had washed out yet. The only spot that showed a bit of a break in the growing glut of youngsters was the Ruins of Alph.

The Ruins of Alph were just that: ruins. Ancient, historical, not a graveyard or a cemetery. Yet it still carried that whispering atmosphere to Misty, as though there might be old souls lurking about. Ash had apparently traveled there in his afterlife and couldn't recollect seeing any specters, so Misty didn't see the point in chancing it. Without any reasonable cause to seek out lost souls, Misty wasn't about to let a centuries' old ghost sneak up on her on the off-chance Ash was wrong.

With another day gone and only a few libations remaining, Misty found herself in Ecruteak.

Ecruteak. Nothing like Kanto, Ecruteak.

Ecruteak was lush in the way that only maybe Fuchsia City in Kanto was. Fuchsia had the protected area of the Safari Zone adding both fauna and flora to the region, but on first glance, Ecruteak was tree-filled because that's how the people wanted it. Parks and gardens and forests, with the only thing poking over top being one looming tower in the distance.

"Wow," Misty said, her neck cricking from staring skyward. "This place is gorgeous."

"Yeah, lots of history here too," Ash agreed.

"Well, I think it's called the Historical City," Misty chuckled, taking notice of ads on signposts for museums and tours and even a ghost tour. "I didn't think you were really into history."

"No, it's Pokémon history," Ash clarified. "There's an old legend about Pokémon dying in a fire."

"Oof, hopefully that's just a legend and not actual history," Misty commented as she approached one of the signposts. "Can we all look to see if there's a map anywhere here?"

With herself, Ash, Pikachu, and Noir combined, it was easy and immediate to see that there was no map. Misty needed to make it to the Gym, both to meet Morty and to see if he had indeed set up accommodations or if she needed to sweet talk the Ecruteak Nurse Joy. Next to an advertisement for a dance theatre was a picture of an old, rusted-out building. Apparently, it was another location for tours.

"Is this from the war?" she asked, wondering if even a town so devoted to history would want to save a relic from a war lost.

"No, that's the tower where the Pokémon died," Ash explained. Then, more quietly he added, "the war didn't make it this far northwest."

Even Misty would have known that if she'd thought a second longer about it. Maybe it was a good sign that Ash had answered the question, but she certainly didn't need to be bringing up the war unnecessarily.

"Right," Misty said, trying to skate over her faux pas. "Would you mind flying up and seeing where the Gym is?"

"Sure thing." Ash grinned.

It was a bit of a surprise that Ash didn't already know where the Gym was. It seemed as though watching Pokémon Battles was one of the greater joys of Ash's afterlife. But, then again, a Ghost-Type Gym presented its challenges. Mainly that any Ghost-Type would be able to see Ash. Misty wasn't sure how much of a problem that was, though. It was probably an everyday occurrence for Ghost Pokémon, maybe even more so than for her. It's not like a Gengar or Haunter would stop a match on Ash's account.

"Thataway!" Ash declared, pointing due east as he floated back down to earth. "The opposite side of town."

"Great," Misty said, rolling her eyes as she reached for her bag to look for a few more of Brock's snacks. Perhaps he hadn't overloaded her as much as she thought.

At least it was a beautiful walk. Spring was still donning it's new clothes, trees colored in young greens, the white and pink petals of the early season still lush on their branches. Joining Misty on the sidewalk were a lot of other pedestrians. There weren't as many buses and trains as in Kanto either, unlike in Kanto's younger sibling of Goldenrod.

As Misty walked, she kept alert for any glowing figures passing by. It was daytime, so the odds were slimmer, but she didn't know for sure if there was anything to the ghost tours advertised. It was probably all fiction, but one could never be too careful. What if there were ghosts who sought out the Ecruteak Gym precisely because there where Ghost Pokémon to talk to? Would there be a sudden influx of them as she grew closer to the building?

"That's it," Ash pointed in the distance once they were halfway through town.

The building poked up as if from nothing, and as they drew close, Misty realized it was because it had been built upon an enormous stone support with one beast of a staircase leading up to the front doors. No wonder it was a Ghost Gym—only beings that could hover had any luck of surviving that walk!

Again, Misty was tempted to ask Ash to carry her. Her feet still hurt from the adventure in Dark Cave and her shoes felt heavy with lead and gravel with every approaching step towards the building. But no, she couldn't—not in the middle of the day, certainly.

Horrid base aside, the building was intimidating. It was a classic build with wood detailing and a steeply slanted black roof, much like the other buildings in the city but bigger and on a stage. With all the wood used in the architecture, it was any wonder that Ecruteak had all the forests left that it did, but then again, the buildings looked so old that perhaps the woods had managed the time to grow back.

Misty trudged up the stairs, balls of her feet throbbing with each step. Meanwhile, all the ghosts darted past her, hurrying up the steps and to the entrance.

"Hey, where're you guys going?" Misty called, hustling to keep up.

"This is a Ghost Gym, Misty!" Ash exclaimed. "There might be, like, fun ghost rooms that only ghosts can access and definitely lots of Ghost Pokémon to hang out with. We wanna check it out!"

It sounded like a heck of a lot more fun than just investigating some living quarters, so she couldn't blame them. As her companions ran through the walls, she soon was stopped by the front door. Neatly between the seams of wood paneling was a likewise wooden door, and for all Misty could tell, there wasn't a doorbell or knocker anywhere in sight. She was just about to knock her fist on the door when a very large eyeball came glowing through the door.

Misty yelped, jumping back, nearly dropping a heel down the first step and guaranteeing herself a painful fall back to the bottom. But she caught herself and stared back at the eyeball long enough for it to retract back through the door, disappearing from sight.

The only comfort Misty could find was that it had assuredly been a Pokémon's eyeball, and not that of a departed human giant. In the time it took her to steady her breathing and her heartbeat, the front door opened, revealing a young man, maybe just a year or two younger than Misty.

"Ms. Waterflower," he said formally, bowing slightly from the waist. "We are expecting you."

Misty hastily gave a small nod of her head. "Ah—thank you. Um, is Morty here?"

"He is," the boy, probably an intern if not a younger relative, said, holding the door open for Misty. "But he's in the middle of a Battle. You can sit in on the conclusion if you want."

It was a no brainer. Misty wanted to learn about Ghost Pokémon from this guy, and getting a stronger idea of his team and his style would make for something of a crash course. She nodded as she walked in. "That would be great!"

Inside was a lobby not unlike the one for the Cerulean Gym. Instead of cool tile, the floors were lined with glossy wood that looked more like ash than the teak that the city was named for. But there was nothing spooky to the atmosphere whatsoever. Tons of fluorescent lights made the floors gleam, and the friendly face of the intern walking her through to the wide doors beyond reception made her feel welcome and comfortable to follow.

"This is the main entrance, but we'll have to go through the side so as not to interrupt the Battle."

The sounds of the match were already passing through the wooden walls, muffled calls for Attacks and dodging and defense. Unless all that noise was coming from only the challenger, that at least crossed out the option of Morty having a silent Battle style like Giovanni's.

They climbed some stairs to come out on top of a set of bleachers overlooking the match, and it turned out to be a good spot to view it, as it was currently airborne. A big Haunter was in the air, floating in and out of visibility for everyone but Misty, and a Butterfree flapped around it.

Misty froze for a moment when she got a good look at the Butterfree, thankful for their distance from the Pokémon. Butterfree was about as benign as Bug Pokémon got for Misty, but every time the antennae quivered, her hands turned into fists and she bit her lip. It was harmless. It was completely interested in something other than her. Misty took a deep breath and relaxed.

Both Pokémon seemed tired, but it was more obvious on Butterfree than on Haunter. Butterfree wore it in slowly flapping wings, and longer moments to muster strength before releasing an Attack—a Sleep Powder that Haunter dodged handily. On Haunter, it was more subtle in the way it fell out of second plane when a Gust Attack hit home, and it took a number of dodges while in first plane to get back into the more hidden state. If Haunter were fresh, then it would be able to weave between the planes with much less energy.

"Lick! From the back!" Morty instructed, surprising Misty when Haunter teleported to Butterfree's back side and licked a wide tongue not over Butterfree's body, but over one of the wings.

Butterfree went into a tailspin, falling multiple meters before hard-beating wings managed to save it from splatting to the wooden floor. But its recovery was weak, and that one wing appeared to be working awfully hard.

Misty remembered what an advantage she had over Flying Types that tried their luck at the Cerulean Gym. Water didn't have an advantage over Flying—certainly Pokémon like Mantine and Gyarados suffered little if at all when hit by a powerful Water Attack. But where the move-to-move ratio was even, Water still had a technical advantage. Not only could very few Flying Pokémon do anything once submerged, unless they were a dual-Type, but their flying almost always suffered when hit with water. Scaled Pokémon like Charizard didn't endure as much as Pokémon with feathers to be weighed down—though a Charizard would suffer those Type inequities—but Butterfree had the fine scales of insects. Little things that could be blown off by water or even wind, smudged by the tiniest fingertip. An aggressive lick with Haunter's big tongue was bound to scrape some of those scales off and even leave the wing damp.

The Battle was short-lived from there. With a wing nearly out of commission, Butterfree could do little but take every last hit Haunter gave it until it fell limp to the field. Not so much as a puff of dirt was roused by the feather-light fall.

As Morty shook the hand of the loser and people made their way down the bleachers, Misty stayed behind. She'd only seen the tail end of the match, but it already taught her a bit about Morty's Battle style. Not only had aiming for the wing been a direct hit for Haunter's Attack, but it had an extra level of throwing Butterfree off its game. Morty thought through his moves from multiple angles—the hallmark of an extraordinary Trainer.

The room began to empty out and only then did Misty toe down the stairs, a metallic echo rattling with each footstep. With few people in the large room, every sound made her feel like a tiptoeing Rhydon.

"Misty." Morty smiled, noticing her immediately and reaching out a hand. "So glad that you could make it, and watch a match."

Misty shook his hand. Despite the match, it was dry—he hadn't even broken a sweat. "I only caught the end, actually, but it was really impressive."

"Thank you," Morty said genially. "The team has to do some cleaning up in here, so why don't I show you to your room?"

So he really had meant that he could provide boarding accommodations. Misty smiled in relief. "I'd love that, thank you."

Morty led her back to the lobby, where the intern who'd let her in was now standing behind the front desk.

"This is Misty Waterflower," Morty informed the intern needlessly. "I'll be showing her to her bunk."

"Sure thing!"

What caught Misty's eye as they passed through the room and towards a back stairwell were the many calendars, schedules and fliers lining the wall of the lobby. At a glance, the calendar seemed packed with classes—and Misty knew that wasn't including the many Gym challenges that were almost entirely unscheduled.

"Things seem awfully busy here," Misty said over the creaking of the wooden staircase.

"It's a Gym Leader's responsibility to share their knowledge with anyone who wants to know," Morty replied. "It's the flip side of this sabbatical you're taking. I'm sure anyone who goes to the Cerulean Gym will be thrilled to hear about what you've learned."

Misty refrained from informing him that this trip was less a sabbatical and more a case of impulse meeting opportunity. Though since talking with her sisters, her leave at the Gym was more official, as close to a sabbatical as she'd probably get.

All of a sudden, a purple gas began seeping from one of the walls, much too thick to make sense pouring through the finished wood paneling. Misty darted to the handrail, holding it with both hands as Morty stopped, feet split between two stairs.

As soon as a black, floating orb with two eyes appeared in the middle of the purple haze, Misty relaxed, heart bouncing up from where it'd fallen on the staircase and back to her chest as she steadied her breathing. Just a Gastly, not some kind of noxious gas leak.

The Gastly spoke a few turns of its name, Morty nodding along the same way Ash did when he was speaking with a Pokémon. To Gastly's gibberish, Morty said, "Got it, thanks for letting me know," and continued onward as though they'd experienced no interruption.

Misty followed the Gastly with her eyes as it disappeared back into the wall, leaving Misty wondering if perhaps this place was more spooky than it seemed. Sure, the main areas were bright and clean with just a bit of warmth and hominess provided by the old wood and traditional architecture. Those spatial touches kept the place from being overly sterile and austere.

"This is it," Morty said, opening one of many doors lining a narrow hallway. "It's spare, but it should do the job."

'Spare' was right, Misty thought as she flicked on the overhead light and walked into the room. The word wasn't generous by any means, just accurate, accounting for the single bed, neatly made, and the nightstand, lamp, and small dresser—everything wooden. There wasn't a rug or a desk or even a chair, but that was about the standard for a Pokémon Center room as well. It would get the job done for a tenant who was primarily using the room for sleep, and little else.

"It's perfect," Misty said, unhooking her backpack from one arm and dropping it with relief onto the bed. A little groan escaped her lips as she rolled her shoulders and stretched both arms behind her back. She might go to sleep early tonight in the hopes that her muscles would rebuild themselves a little bit. They were sure to ache more the moment she stopped moving.

"There are no bathrooms upstairs," Morty continued. "Baths and restrooms are downstairs. All communal, if that's alright."

"It's all totally fine."

"Happy to hear i—"

Morty was cut off by a shouted "Mist!" making its way through the walls

Misty's eyes darted from one wall to the next, looking for the direction Ash's voice had come from, but only figured it out when his head popped up just above her bed.

"The walls are filled with Ghosts!" Ash exclaimed, pointing one disembodied arm in the direction of the rest of his body. "I've lost count of all the Pokémon!"

Misty played it cool, not making eye contact with Ash beyond the first word so that it didn't look like she was staring at the wall unnaturally. But when she turned back to Morty, his expression had fallen. She noticed how heavy his eyelids were, how dark they turned his eyes when they were narrowed in her direction.

"They're with you?" he asked, and Misty couldn't bother being surprised this time like she'd been with Phoebe. After all, his voice had cut out when Ash had started talking, right? Gosh, she should have seen it coming.

"Yeah, he's—"

"And a Pikachu and Banette, right?" Morty interrupted. "Are there any more?"

"N…No, that's it," Misty said, taking a step back towards Ash. Then, awkwardly joking, she said, "Don't worry, they don't need boarding."

Morty sighed, pulling his headband down and back over his head. "This wasn't the training I thought you needed, but I'll help you exorcise them."

Misty blinked. "Exorcise?"

"Well, not like a demon, but get them to move on, right?" Morty explained over Misty's reeling mind. "Let's get them out of here."

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this one! Real life came out a swinging these past couple weeks. You're lucky I'm now stuck n a bus for 4 hours. How about that cliffhanger, though? Hehe, I think it's a fun one. Also, again, I was impressed by the quality of the writing in this chapter. I definitely notice the improvement. It's just a transition chapter, nothing special, but idc, it's pretty decent. Good for me. No idea when I'll have time to get the next chapter out, but it's only because time is an illusion in my head. It doesn't take more than 30 minutes to edit a chapter, unless something goes terribly wrong, but I *feel* like I don't have time. You know how it is.