2005- Chapter Two
"I take it we'll be leaving today," James assumed the next morning. In truth, it was nearly eleven and didn't count as morning; the two had decided to take it easy that day and slept in late.
"No," came the short answer.
James threw on an outfit. "Do you mind if I ask why?"
"Not at all."
He waited a moment, then realized she literally wanted him to ask. "Why, then?"
"Because I like it here," Jessie replied. "It's safe- for the moment- calm, and even though you can still feel the pressure of war, it's not nearly as bad as it was in places like what's left of Viridian City."
"If you intend on staying here, then there really isn't any reason that I should hang around," James remarked. "You'll be safe with Brock. And, if you couldn't tell, I prefer not to stay in cities for a prolonged period of time."
"Why not? Afraid someone might recognize you as James Morgan, the deserter?" Jessie asked innocently.
James stiffened. "I'd prefer if you didn't bring that up again."
"That's it, then. Well, you don't need to worry, because that troupe was killed, and so was the general who had the price on your head," Jessie reminded him. "That was five years ago, James. No one is going to care. Brock doesn't. His family doesn't. Trust me, people have more important things to worry about then a heart-broken kid who got fed up with fighting. Like how to keep family members alive one day longer, with hardly any type of treatment."
"He's going to die, you know," James told her, knowing full well she meant Kris Harrison. "Without medicine... it's a 100% killer."
She nodded sadly. "Brock knows it, too, and I would bet Celia does. But there's no reason to drown the other kids' hopes."
"Better that they know now then have to experience the pain and shock later," he said flatly.
Jessie whirled on him. "I hope you don't really mean that. And if you so much as say one word to them about it-"
"I wouldn't. I'm not in the business of crushing childhood hopes." Still calm, even, and emotionless.
Jessie wanted to hit him, but didn't know how this James would react. "There's a theatre down the street a ways. Brock said they still run a movie on Saturdays. You want to come?"
"What's playing?"
"I didn't catch a name. A comedy, I think," Jessie said. 'Not that you'll laugh,' she added silently.
"I'll pass. There's some business I need to take care of," he lied. In reality the assassin just needed to take a walk, alone. "I'll see you at nightfall, again?"
"Okay. And we'll be spending it at Brock's again, whether you like it or not," she practically ordered.
He agreed to that, said his good-byes, and headed out the door. Walking down the main street in town, James had a lot to think about. His new job, the future. Jessie.
Feeling cramped within the walls of the fort, James slipped out the side door he had first come in, back out on the path to Viridian Forest. He gave the man on the wall two gold pieces to let him back in when he came back. Clutching the money greedily, the wall guard had agreed immediately.
Now, strolling across the tree-speckled outer edge of the forest, hood down and letting the sun tan his pale skin, he still managed to keep an eye on everything he was doing while daydreaming at the same time. James heard the two voices, male and female, before he saw them. Ducking behind a tree and pulling his hood up, he waited to see if they were friends... or soon-to-be dead enemies.
"Every minute out in this sun starts filling me with more hope for tomorrow. You have to admit, even with all that's happening, the earth has still managed to keep it's beauty," the female was saying.
"When it isn't being rained down on with nuclear weapons and missiles," the male said coldly.
"Ashton, I know things have been hell," the young woman snapped, "but don't you think that, just maybe, you could try to see the good in things? You're never going to find anything worth saving about the human race if you don't look for it."
Ashton? The League Champ, and also the kid James used to chase around. Could it be him?
"Look for it? That's like trying to find a needle in a haystack. I'm not searching for good, Misty- if it wants to be saved, it'll have to stick it's neck out."
Misty? Now there was no doubt in his mind. 'And,' he thought with mild amusement, 'it sounds like they haven't changed in many ways. Still fighting over everything.'
As they walked by, James silently fell into step with them. So far gone in their argument were the two that it took them nearly a minute to realize someone else had joined their party.
"If I was a bandit," James said suddenly, "you'd be dead now."
Ash grabbed for his gun, but Misty put her hand on his. "Wait, Ash. He's not going to hurt us. He would have by now." She turned to the stranger, who was still walking quite swiftly and forcing the others to keep up with him. "Do you have a name?"
"I have several."
Ash eyed him. "Feel like giving us one?"
"Some people call me Jake Carol. Others, Silent Death."
Misty whistled, as Brock had done. "The Class-A Assassin."
"But, it seems recently people have begun calling me by my birthname again," he came to an abrupt stop,
pulling down his hood, "James Morgan."
"James Morgan," Misty repeated the name, taking a minute to remember why that sounded familiar. "From Team Rocket?" A nod. "And Silent Death."
Ash chuckled dryly. "Interesting career choice, Jim. Mind if I ask where your other half is?"
"Jessie's back at the fort." He looked up at the sky. "We should be going. It's nearly two hours to Pewter, and I told Jessie I'd meet up with her at twilight. I hope you don't mind a little socialization. We'll be eating at Brock's home."
"Brock?" Misty grinned. "So, he's still alive. How's his family doing?"
"Six are dead," James said bluntly. "One more is one the way. The virus."
Misty hit Ash in the ribs hard, saying quietly so only he could hear her. "You want to damn his whole family to that?"
"More people did that, you know. I'm condemning no one- the human race is condemning itself," Ash told her, equally as quietly.
Misty turned away, back to her other temporary travelling partner. He had already started walking again causing Misty and Ash to have to nearly jog to keep up. "Did Brock mention anything about someone writing him?"
"Not to me," James told her. "But we haven't talked much."
"Do you know if he knows if Gary and Tracey are alive?" she pried.
"Should they be?"
"I don't know," she said quietly. "It's been so long... you have to fear the worst."
"I always do. That way you'll never be disappointed."
Misty was starting to become irritated with her new acquaintance, but at this point took him over Ash. "They're off fighting in the war, you know."
"I didn't."
"Anyways, we haven't heard anything since Pallet-" Ash coughed and looked away. Misty paused. "But I've tried to think the best." Not liking the eerie silence that followed, Misty went on to explain what they were doing at Pewter. James listened, but it was impossible to tell whether he cared or not. "...So, Ash has lost all hope in people, and I'm trying to get him to change his mind before it's too late."
"I haven't seen anything to boost my faith, yet," Ash announced, somewhat cockily.
Mist's fists bunched up, and she flushed red. "He isn't even giving it a chance." She turned on James. "What about you? You aren't one of those 'death to everyone' people too, are you?"
"Quite frankly, I don't care either way."
"How can you not care? Everyone has to have an opinion," Misty insisted.
She was expecting a James-ish answer, but he merely said, "If I didn't wake up tomorrow, I imagine I'd feel the same as I would if I did awaken."
That was the last thing she wanted to hear. Flushing once more, even brighter this time, the twenty-year old snapped, "You're exactly alike, you and Ash! God, I hope Brock and Jessie are a little more compassionate, or I might have to kill myself in despair for what the world's become!"
She walked off ahead of them, though by now they'd nearly reached the fort's doors.
Ash threw back his head and laughed. James turned away, smiling slightly. Faintly he heard a noise on Ash's far side.
"You may want to duck," James advised.
Unsure of what the request was for, Ash did as he said. A bullet wizzed past the spot where his head had been.
Misty whirled at the sound of the gun going off. "What the-?!"
James fired before anyone had a chance to react. Two quick lazer blasts, followed shortly by the sound of two bodies hitting ground. He slung the weapon back over his shoulder. "Bandit thugs. Probably after the League Champ. There aren't any more."
Misty waited for the two to catch up, then set off again. She and Ash exchanged looks. He may have been an enemy in the past, but James Morgan could prove to be a valuable ally in the near future.~
James rendezvoused with Jessie a few minutes after sunset. "Sorry I'm late, but I ran into some people."
"Anyone I know?"
James waved a hand to his right. "Most likely."
Jessie looked over, as two young adults who she knew very well tried to keep up with their pace. "Good to see the League Champ alive and kicking. What with all that mess in Pallet and Cerulean, I didn't know if I'd ever see you two in this world again."
"Hey, whatever killed us?" Misty managed a weak smile, but both she and Ash seemed to wince at the names of their hometowns.
"Sorry to bring it up," Jessie apologized immediately.
"It's all right. Both of us have been trying to pretend it didn't happen; hearing it out of another's mouth hurts, but helps," Misty assured her. She decided to change the subject. "James mentioned eating dinner with Brock."
Jessie nodded. "I hope you don't mind a little noise- it's a bit wild, but the atmosphere is a good change after all the things that've happened."
Misty said that sounded great, so Jessie quickened her pace a little and they soon arrived at Brock's apartment building. The two women bantered a little, but neither Ash nor James seemed too eager to join in on the conversation. It worried Jessie and Misty alike.
When Brock opened the door, he could only stand open-mouthed for several seconds, running a hand over his eyes similar to the way he'd done upon seeing Jessie and James.
Misty's eyes sparkled. "What's the matter, Brock? Persian got your tongue? Can't a couple old friends stop in to chat?"
"Is it really you?" he managed to get out.
"Who else would it be?" Ash grunted, leaning against the doorframe. "You gonna let us in or not? Misty's likely to explode if you don't."
Brock stepped back, allowing old friends and enemies alike to walk inside. Misty greeted Brock with a tight hug, whispering how glad she was to see him alive. Ash gave something that borderlined a cold handshake, noticing with some satisfaction that he matched Brock in height inch-for-inch. He still couldn't touch James' six-foot-one, he reminded himself, as the assassin walked by quietly and rested a hand against the couch.
The younger kids marvelled over the League Champ as dinner was set out, but quieted down some once they began to eat.
"I apologize for not having more, but we didn't know we'd have two more guests tonight," Celia explained.
"It's all right," Ash said. "I'm not hungry, and from the looks of it, neither is James."
The Bounty Hunter had refused food as politely as possible, but did take a cup of tea. He'd become incredibly fond of Brock's recipe, mentioning last night that if there was a heaven the drinks would taste something like that.
"Brock, have you heard anything from Tracey, or Gary?" Misty questioned after a few bites.
"Nothing." He thought for a moment. "Oh! I just remembered! I went down to the Pokémon Center the other day and Joy gave me a package of about five letters. She said they'd just gotten through a guerilla force. All of them are addressed to Ash, so she figured I could deliver them to you." He stood up, then came back some papers tied together. "They're a little wet, but you ought to be able to make out what they say."
Ash untied the bundle patiently, Misty hurrying him along. Once that was done, each grabbed a letter, ripping off the envelope and skimming over the writing.
"They ARE from Tracey and Gary!" Misty exclaimed happily. "When's the latest one dated?"
"Just a couple weeks ago," Ash said, picking the the letter. "It says that Tracey got pretty beaten up in some accident, but he'll live. Gary's okay, too."
"Anything else?" Brock wondered.
A head-shake. "You can only say so much through these, you know. For security purposes."
Misty took a sip of her drink, a worried look in her eyes. "Poor Tracey. I hope they're okay. Do you think they'll ever come home?"
"Of course," Ash sent her a downright nasty look. "Alive, though, is a completely different matter."
She sucked in air, knowing he was right. Brock tried to change the subject. "So, what brings you here anyway?"
Once more Misty told the story of Ash's lost faith, and how he was going to give people a second chance. "I don't really know how he expects to, though, since he's so thickheaded-" she stopped, looking over at Brock in surprise. He gripped the teacup tightly, and a bit of a flush had come to his neck. She hadn't seen him this angry since they day they'd found Charmander abandoned, all those years ago. "Um, Brock?"
"Celia, can you take the kids into your bedroom?" Brock asked tensely. "I need to have a little chat with Ash."
She motioned silently for the others to follow her out of the living room; they came without complaint, having never seen Brock look so upset. Frita poked her head around the door and pulled down her eyelid at Ash, but was immediately jerked back in by Celia. As soon as the door closed, Brock spoke quietly but sharply.
"Let me get this straight," he began, looking right into his old friend's eyes. "You've lost faith in humans, so you decided to let us all die. Is that the just of it?"
"You catch on quick, as always," Ash agreed, meeting and holding his gaze.
"Are you insane?" Jessie cut in, slapping the table angrily. "You could play a huge roll in saving the fate of this planet, and you won't take action? Heartless or monster, what title would you prefer to be given?"
James quietly gripped her arm, using surprising strength to pull her down. He jerked his head towards Brock, silently saying, "This is his battle."
"My family," Brock started again, as if he hadn't heard Jessie, "is dying. Everyday Kris gets worse, and someone else risks catching that damned virus. And you plan to sit back on your heels in a paradise valley and watch it happen?"
"You're welcome to come with me," Ash said lightly, finally breaking his stare to glance out the window. "You and you're whole family can live with the Elite until the war breaks over. I offered Misty the same opportunity, and," he shot a look at James, "the same thing goes to the man who saved my life a few hours ago. After a couple months I plan on returning, because I sincerely doubt that I'll see something to change my mind."
"I don't need an escape, I need a cure, dammit!" Brock raised his voice slightly on the last word, but not loud enough for his siblings to hear. "In two months your little valley plan might be too late for Kris, and one of the others might come down with the same thing! If you'd done this from day one you could have halved the world's deaths, and maybe saved Misty's family and my own-"
"But mine would still be lying in a hole in the ground, on the outer edge of a nuclear wasteland!" Ash snapped back violently. He stood up, and in a sweep of cape had opened the front door. "I'm going to find a hotel to spend the night, since I'm obviously not welcome within ten yards THIS home!"
The door closed with a slam, causing everyone to jump a little. Misty sighed. "He always was stubborn, but somewhere along the way Ash developed a hot temper. He's been through a lot, you know. In some ways I can emphathize. Give him time- maybe being around people will help melt his heart a little."
James quietly rose from the table. "I'll go talk to him."
"You?" Jessie questioned, surprised to see James caring either way about someone. "Why?"
"Simple." Jessie thought she caught the hint of a smile on his face. "I'm the only one who hasn't tried to wring his neck in the past twenty-four hours."~
James caught up with the angry Champ fairly quickly, since he knew his way around a lot better.
"It's not healthy to fall asleep upset," James remarked, quietly falling into step with Ash. "I've found that the best thing to do in these cases is relax and have a drink."
"I don't need your advice," Ash growled.
"I didn't ask you to take it," came the response. "I just happened to be heading to a local bar and wondered if you wanted to join me."
There was something about the no-pressure attitude that made it impossible for Ash to be angry with him. "Fine. Lead the way."
James trotted around a corner, then entered a somewhat run-down building, a sign above reading "Carter's."
Inside it was almost completely empty, save for a few older men sitting in a corner and a woman sipping a drink. The bartender looked up, waving a tired hand. A girl, about Ash's age, noticed the young men and immediately flew to them.
"Hi," she greeted, smiling sweetly. "We don't see a lot of your type around here. You must be from out of town."
Ash nodded, taking a seat at the bar next to James.
James flashed an I.D., saying as he did, "I'll have the house special."
"The same," Ash agreed.
"Sorry kid, but I don't serve alcohol to minors," the older man told him.
Ash flipped over some identification with a picture of himself, full name, and the occupation: "League Champ."
"Oh, sorry about that Mr. Ketchum," he quickly said, filling up a couple glasses and sliding them in front of his guests. "So, what're Ketchum and Carol doing at a place like this?"
The waitress, who had been wiping down the seats for quite some time, grinned wide. "Well well, the League Champ and the famous assassin! Quite a pair!" She moved a bit closer to Ash. "We never get handsome boys like yourselves in here these days. Mostly just the usual old drunks and a couple of passer-bys."
"Hey Tara, we flirting or we working?" the bartender asked impatiently.
"A little bit of both, I figure," she said, winking coyly at Ash and James.
"Yeah, well the sooner you clean this place up the sooner we get to head out, so move it," he grumbled back.
Tara tossed her cloth onto a table, sitting down next to Ash. "Don't mind my dad. He's just a little sore 'cause we got some shady figures staying in the hotel."
Ash's ears perked up. "You own a hotel?"
"Yeah, just a little ways down the street. It's more like an apartment complex, but dad calls it the Carter Hotel 'cause it sounds classier. My dad owns most everything important around here, anymore. It makes good money, but the stress is getting to him," she chattered on, oblivious to the fact that neither seemed very interested in her. "But these new folks in the hotel might be the straw that breaks the camel's back. They're some of the nastiest people you'll ever meet. Carry around some deadly weapons- like the one you got, Mr. Carol- but unlike you they look like they wouldn't hesitate to kill someone dead for smilin' at 'em wrong..." she glanced up as a gang of about five men and women walked into the bar. "Speak of the devil, here they come now."
A tall man, rivaling James in height, surveyed the dingy room with a half-sneer on his lips. He counted up the bar stools- five, total- and jerked a shoulder, a silent sign for the rest to follow him. He sauntered up to the counter, waving a hand at Ash and James. "Buzz off, we've claimed these seats." He began to turn away, expecting them to listen immediately, but managed to catch a good look at James in the dim light. "Hey, crew, look who we found. It's little Jakie, Midnight's boy-toy."
James gave them nothing but a nod. "Karl."
"That all you got to say, Rookie?" he questioned. "Not so ballsy when you don't have Midnight to hide behind, eh?"
"Did you need something, or are you just looking for a fight?"
The one called Karl seemed about to punch James, but thought better of it. "Go sit somewhere else. Me and mine will be staying here, Rookie."
James started to stand, not in the least bit phased, when Ash spoke up. "Why should we? We were here first, after all."
"Who the hell are you?" one of Karl's cronies snapped.
"Ashton Ketchum, League Champ," he introduced smugly. "It'd be in your best interests to find a table, because I'm not moving."
"Hey guys, he's the LEAGUE CHAMP," one woman said sarcastically. "You think we oughta shower him in flower petals or kiss his feet with our unworthy mouths?"
"Obviously you don't know who you're dealing with, boy," Karl growled. "We happen to be about the most dangerous gang of Bounty Hunters this side of the Equator. And if you wanna live to be fourteen you should get lost."
Indignant and stubborn as always, Ash flushed red and hopped off his stool. "I needed to get out some anger, today. I might as well use you for that."
Karl and his group were just about to launch themselves on the teen when a voice from the corner stopped them.
"It doesn't seem very classy for you to beat up hot-headed children." It was the woman who'd been sitting there since they'd arrived. Her features were indistinguishable, due to a hood similar to James', but the laser gun at her waist showed she wasn't one to be messed with.
"Midnight?" Karl queried. "You were here the whole time?"
"They don't call me the Midnight Shadow for nothing, you know," for a brief second Ash caught a glimpse of golden eyes, that flashed angrily across the assassins. "I'll be having a little talk with you about the boy-toy comment, Karl." He winced. "Get out, all of you. You've caused enough trouble for one night." The gang hurriedly left the bar. The female assassin began to follow. With her back to Ash and James, she said quietly, "And as for you, Carol," a swift look back, "I'd keep an eye on my charge. The winds are blowing news of death, and all the currents point towards her." And she was gone.
Wordlessly James tossed the bartender a couple of bills and left, Ash close on his heels.
"What was that about?" Ash asked as soon as they hit the street. "Who were those people?"
"Assassins. They're used to getting their way. You're lucky Midnight stepped in when she did, or you very well could have been a dead man."
"Midnight? Who is she, and why's she so important? And why did they keep calling you 'Rookie'? And what was with the thing about the winds blowing death?" Ash shot off several questions in a row, anxious to understand what had just happened.
"You ask too many questions," was all James said. He motioned to the right. "The hotel's that way. If you'll be staying here, I suppose I'll see you around." He started off, at a stride oddly like Midnight's. He stopped after a few feet. "We've all been through just as much as you have, Brock especially. Remember that next time you decide to act like a jackass."
Ash said nothing. There wasn't anything he could think of to say. He watched as the bounty hunter disappeared into the night, then turned slowly to the hotel. He was still thinking about that last comment as he fell asleep, much later into the evening.
~
Jessie looked up from a book she was reading as James came in. "I hate to sound like an obnoxious parent, but you were out pretty late."
"I decided to raise a little hell in the local bar," James said airily. "It happens to be a hobby of mine."
Jessie laughed. "And here I thought you didn't have a sense of humor anymore." She put down whatever she was reading, facing her friend as he took a seat on his sleeping bag. "Anything interesting happen?"
James told Jessie the story, front to back; it was the most she'd heard him talk in the last couple days. Naturally she had a few questions to ask.
"Midnight Shadow, huh? Old friend of yours?"
"I know most of the Bounty Hunters in Kanto," he said, without really answering anything. Jessie let it slide.
"From the sound of it, you didn't make friends with all of them," she remarked carefully.
"Karl's gang has always been like that," James told her. "They seem coldest to Midnight and myself, though."
"Any reason why?"
"Karl can never get the better of Midnight. He's been trying to kill her for years, but she always eludes him," the assassin explained. "Midnight's the most experienced Bounty Hunter out there. Karl's in a close second. If he killed her, he'd be revered like something of a president by our community. He's power-hungry; that's really all there is to it."
"But why you? Done something to piss him off?" Jessie pried, hoping she wasn't going too far.
"He's been doing this for almost ten years, whereas I've only been around for a little over four. I'm still what is considered a beginner, but in a lot of ways I'm better than he'll ever be. That's where I earned the nickname Rookie," James spat the last word, as if it was poison. "Jealousy is a strong power, and if he had the chance he'd kill me too."
Jessie whistled. "Tough business." She hesitated, not sure if she should ask her next question, but knew it would bother her forever unless she knew.
After James had finished getting ready for bed, she got up enough nerve to say it. "So, James... why did you go into this profession?"
For a moment he said nothing, and Jessie thought she'd crossed the line of questioning. As he crawled into his bed, he finally said, "Coincidence has a twisted sense of humor."~
Tracey looked out the window of the small jet plane. Still more ocean. He'd been seeing the same scenery for hours. He sighed. How boring.
The plane was quiet, except for the nervous drumming of Gary's fingers. Tracey looked over, to see how his friend was holding up. He looked a little pale, but for the most part managed to keep composed. Ever since the horrible crash, Gary had seemed wary of airplanes. Tracey couldn't say he liked them much, either.
"You know," he began, smiling slightly, "after this, I don't think I'll fly for the rest of my life."
Gary managed a chuckle. "That makes two of us."
Tracey ran a finger across the scar tissue on one cheek. He glanced over to see Gary fingering a scar he'd earned on his forehead. What a couple of beauty contestants they were. Looking back out the window, Tracey thought he caught sight of land in the distance. By squinting a little, he could just make out a shorline. "Hey, Gar', we don't have too much of this bland oceanview left."
Peering out his own window, Gary nodded, confirming Tracey's statement. He frowned. "Too bad our first sight of Kanto is gonna be..." he trailed off, unable to finish.
'Pallet Town,' Tracey thought silently. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned it until they were well over Viridian.
Gary's gaze went down to his leg, then back out the window. Tracey bit his lip. Stupid. He hated to remind Gary of his disability. It constantly let itself be known to the ex-pilot as it was.
Deep in thought and doodling on a piece of paper, Tracey almost missed seeing Pallet. Something happened to catch his eye, causing him to look up. Before him were the houses, untouched, standing as if they were waiting for their owners to come back from a long vacation. Though the nuclear activity would have been cleared out a while ago, the grass was still dead and all the trees gnarled and depressing. Just then, the plane went over Professor Oak's lab. Tufts of grass grew here and there, and a young tree was starting to grow. A Rattata scampered through some of the dead grass, on his way back out to the grasslands near Viridian. Tracey smiled a little.
"In some ways, that's almost up-lifting," Gary said quietly. Tracey hadn't known he'd been viewing it, also. "A couple more years and it'll be just like it was. Except..."
'Except without everyone we knew,' the artist finished to himself.
"You're lucky you're an orphan," Gary told him after a moment. "You never have to worry about losing the people you love."
"Sure I do," Tracey replied. "What do you think you and my other friends are?"
Gary grinned in spite of himself. "Hey, you're getting all fruity on me. Save that for the girls in Pewter." He paused, eyes back to the window. Several minutes later, he said, "Thanks, Trace, for everything. This would've been a hell of a lot harder to deal with if I hadn't had a friend nearby."
"Anytime."
Not quite thirty minutes later, the plane headed in to the Pewter Airdock- it was too small to really be considered an airport. After a somewhat bumpy landing, the pilot stuck his head behind the curtain separating him from his passengers. "Here we are. Hurry up, I've gotta get over to Celadon in a little while."
Tracey took the three stairs down in a couple steps, looking back. He watched Gary struggle somewhat with his crutch, but knew he wouldn't ask to help and Gary wouldn't ask for the help. The ex-pilot was just too damn proud.
In a few minutes, both were walking out the door of the dock building, carrying packs and breathing in the air.
"So how d'you think Brock'll react when we show up at his front door?" Tracey wondered.
Gary smirked, already feeling better now that he was on Kanto soil. "Is a welcome home feast and a stripper asking too much?"
"Probably."
"Damn."
~
Misty looked out the window of she and Ash's hotel, sighing forlornly. It had been over a week since she'd come to Pewter, and almost nothing had changed about Ash. He cooled down soon enough, and he and Brock had an unspoken apology, but there always seemed to be a wall between himself and one of her companions. At this rate, it seemed the human race as a whole was screwed.
"Hm?" Misty noticed two people who seemed somewhat familiar walking down the street. The duo were a little too far away for her to make out many characteristics, but it looked like one of them was leaning on a crutch. They paused for a moment, as if looking for something. The darker-haired one turned her way, and for a moment she could distinguish a few facial features. "Oh my God."
Misty raced for the door of the apartment, passing by the living room where Ash was watching TV.
"Where are you going?" he asked in a bored tone.
"Ash! It's them!" Misty exclaimed, poking her head around the door and positively glowing. "It's Gary and Tracey!"
He jumped up immediately. "It's who? You have to be kidding."
"I know it! Ash, they're alive! Oh, thank God!" she was gone again. In a moment he heard the door slam shut. With something between a groan and a chuckle, Ash followed shortly. ~
"Have you ever been to Pewter?" Tracey asked.
"Once, about eight years ago," Gary answered. "We could ask for directions to the Pokémon Center, than go to Brock's from there... but, being a guy, I'm always wary about asking for that kind of thing..."
Tracey's head came up. "Did you hear that?"
"What?"
"I thought someone just yelled our names-" Tracey began, but was cut off.
"Tracey! Gary! You're alive!"
Both men turned around, and were almost knocked over by an ecstatic woman. She wrapped her arms around their necks, hugging them tightly. "I can't believe it! I just can't believe that you're here in Pewter! Oh, and you're alive! You're safe and you're alive!"
By now Tracey had burst out laughing. "Misty, it's great to see you too."
Gary coughed, trying to pull away from the near-strangling hold. "I'd be a lot happier if you'd stop trying to suffocate me."
She let both go, blushing. "You just, you have no idea how worried I've been. Ash hadn't heard anything in so long, then we finally got those letters, but the last one was dated almost a month ago... I'm babbling, I know, but it's so nice to see both of you alive." She stood back, looking the two up and down. Both were thin, and all muscle, with a deep tan. Her eyes stayed only a millisecond longer on Gary's leg, but flashed back up to both faces, all smiles. "I spotted you from my apartment window. At first I didn't even recognize you, you look so different, but I knew the minute I saw this," she plucked Tracey's headband teasingly. "Still insist on wearing this old thing, huh?"
Tracey shrugged. "I like to think of it as a good luck charm."
Ash had snuck up on the three old friends without them noticing. "Don't I get a hug too?"
"Ash! What a weird coincidence, meeting you guys here," Tracey greeted.
"When you find out who else is here it'll be more than just a weird coincidence," Ash told him. He faced Gary. Both looked the other one in the eye, keeping their faces even. "Gary."
"Ash."
The Champ's eyes travelled across Gary. He looked back up. "I was going to ask why you got released, but the answer seems to speak for itself, doesn't it?"
"Ash!" Misty hissed, connecting her elbow hard into his ribcage.
Gary's fists tightened, but all he said was, "We were looking for Brock's place. You know where it is?"
Misty nodded. "Yeah, we I visit a lot. Ash likes to be a little more reclusive, but I drag him along when I can. If you want, I can take you there now." A slight hesitation. "Um, the virus Quiana launched is sweeping through his house, though, so if you aren't immune-"
"Misty, I want you to understand something," Tracey said, swinging an arm around her shoulder. "Out in the boonies, we were subject to about everything you could think of. Malaria, food poisoning, flu, cholera-"
"First degree burns, pneumonia, bubonic plague, lyme disease-" Gary continued.
"Not to mention Quiana's patented 100% killer," Tracey finished.
"We've looked death in the face, flipped it the bird and told it to get bent," Gary chuckled. "There's very little that'll scare us war heroes."
Misty gave off an involuntary shiver. "Horrible. How'd you ever get through it?"
"A little TLC from Nurse Erika went a long way," Gary said, smiling a little. "Not to mention they shipped in about every cure for everything possible. Heaven forbid the soldiers die of something other than someone else killing them."
Ash snorted. "Not that anyone gives a rip about the people not fighting."
"Including you," Misty snapped irritably. She was so sick of his attitude. She ignored the Champ and apologized several times to Tracey and Gary for him. "Ash's been like this ever since I met up with him." She went on to explain why they were in Pewter. "I don't know what the hell is wrong, but he'd better figure out that being a jerk won't help anything."
Tracey tried to change the subject. "Ash mentioned that some other people were here. Who is it? Anyone I know?"
"Yes, I'd say you know them well enough." Misty smirked. "Let's just call it a surprise. We're almost there, anyway, and if I know them at all they're probably at Brock's right now."~
"King me."
"Dammit, James, how did you get so good at this game?" Brock questioned, flicking a piece across the table in mock rage. He stared at his pile of two red pieces, and James' collection of black ones, sighing.
"Don't feel so bad. Not everyone is lucky enough to get beaten by me," James told him, a smile playing on his lips.
Jessie, in turn, grinned. It was amazing what a little socialization had done for her old partner. The family was so friendly, though, that it was almost impossible not to like them.
"Jess? Hello Jessie?" A hand waved across her face.
She snapped out of her own world, looking up at Celia. The young adult laughed. "I can't teach you how to cook if you don't pay attention." She followed Jessie's gaze to where Brock and James were sitting. "Hm. But then again, man-watching has always been an interesting sport."
Jessie blushed. "Sorry. I'm trying to learn, but you know, some people just weren't meant to cook."
"Oh, anyone can do it. Now, being a gormet chef like myself and Brock... that's a talent you have to be born with."
"Sort of a hereditary gene?"
"Exactly."
Both women smiled, thoroughly enjoying the quiet weekend evening. It was always so much more relaxed when Brock was home and Ash didn't come over. The League Champ always seemed to put nerves on end.
"Hey, we got some guests coming this way," Frita announced from her usual spot, in a chair by the window. "Looks like Ash and Misty are bringing some friends... woah, one of 'em's only got one leg."
The last remark got everyone's attention.
"Hey, Frita, one wouldn't happen to be wearing a red headband, would he?" Brock asked innocently.
"Uh, yeah, actually," she cocked her head, looking to Brock. "Do you know them?
His face broke into a grin.
"That's a yes," Gwen confirmed. She pushed Frita out of the way. "Aren't those the two who were fighting in the war?"
"War heroes?" Zach scrambled to the window. "We're getting overrun by celebrities these past couple of weeks!" He sucked in air. "God, the tall guy DOES only have one leg! Weird."
"Gary?" Brock asked, not really expecting the others to answer. He peered out the window. "By God, you're right. I wonder what happened." He whirled on his siblings. "Don't say a single word about it when he gets here, all right? I know you're curious, but we'll find out when we're meant to. Until then, no one's going to make him feel uncomfortable. You got that?"
"Yessir," they all replied in unison.
Jessie giggled. "He'll make a good father... or drill sergeant."
Conversation was cut off as three sharp raps came down on the door- Ash's knock. Brock got the door.
Misty immediately grabbed Brock in a hug. "They're back! Can you believe it!?"
Brock easily looked over her head at the newcomers. "We saw you coming up the stairs. Welcome back. We're a little crammed spacewise, but if you wanna come in for a while that's fine. Celia and Jessie are trying to cook dinner."
"Jessie?" Tracey queried. He shot Misty a look. "Is that your surprise?"
Misty let go of Brock, nodding. He stepped back, and let the four in, shaking hands heartily with Tracey and Gary and giving Ash a curt nod. Three heads peeked over the top of the sofa at the new duo.
"Hi," Tracey greeted. "You must be Brock's brothers and sisters."
"Yeah, but we aren't allowed to talk to you 'cause we might make you feel uncomfortable," Zach explained.
Gwen rolled her eyes. "You'll have to pardon my brother, sometimes he takes things the wrong way." She stuck out a hand. "I'm Gwen, he's Zach, and that's Frita. Sorry about the game boards, we didn't know there'd be guests."
"That's fine. Sparkling clean houses always made me feel nervous," Tracey assured her, taking the hand. He noticed the lavender-haired man, standing from behind a table. "Is that James Morgan?"
"One and the same," he said, striding over to them. "I trust the war was as horrible for you as it was for me."
"Probably," Gary agreed. "It's good to be home."
Jessie waved a quick hello, as did Celia.
"Make yourself comfortable," Brock's younger sister suggested. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes." She pushed Jessie out of the kitchen. "I'll take it from here. We'll work on the cooking later."
They tried to seat themselves around the table, but there just wasn't enough floor space. Brock's siblings ended up having to sit a little ways back from the table.
Since Brock's parents were originally from Tenuto, they followed similar traditions to the culture, including sitting on the floor when eating. This proved several problems for Gary. He tried to sit comfortably, but it wasn't an easy task. Tracey bit his lip and stared at the table, thinking maybe it would have been a better idea to go to Celadon. After a moment everyone settled down, and Celia brought out the meal.
Gary and Tracey bit into the food with a will. After a few moments, Gary said decisively: "I can honestly say this is the best meal I've had in five years."
Tracey nodded. "Probably the only full meal, too."
"I take it they didn't feed you too well out there," Celia assumed.
"That's an understatement," Gary snorted. "In the boonies- that's what everyone called the wargrounds- all you ever got was a hunk of bread and some stringy meat."
"Undercooked, too, at least until that E Coli epidemic," Tracey put in. "It was major hell. I don't think I'm really meant for the business. Though, Gary had some fun."
Gary smirked, enjoying a bit of bragging. "Seven medals and a purple heart. Not too shabby, huh?" He jerked a thumb at his friend. "Trace didn't do so bad himself. Got three beauties to bring home."
"Three on ribbons and three on my face," Tracey remarked, running a hand across a tender burn on his forehead.
"Yeah, but you know how much girls like that sort of rugged handsomeness," Jessie reminded them.
Brock rubbed his chin, pretending to think hard. "Maybe I oughta enlist."
"You're good looking enough right now," Misty told him. For a split second, Brock thought she might be flirting, but brushed it off as a friendly compliment. "Actually, I'm surprised you don't have a girlfriend, Brock."
He blushed. "I'm pretty busy, and there aren't that many girls around my age in town-"
James smiled slightly. "A girl near Ash's age works down at Carter's. She seemed eager for male companionship."
"Tara's a whore," Brock retorted. He shot a look back at Frita, Gwen and Zach. "By the way, that's a very rude word and I don't ever wanna hear you say it."
"Yessir!" they said again, saluting smartly.
Ash laughed in spite of himself. "Since it appears to be my turn for a question, what do you plan on doing now that you're back in Kanto?"
"We never really thought that far," Gary admitted. "We've got some cash, so there's no reason to leave for a while. Maybe if I get bored I'll swing over to Celadon, see Erika's friends and tell them she's okay."
"Do you have a room for the night?" Brock wondered, ready to offer his home as a place to stay.
"We were planning on dumping ourselves off here," Tracey began, "but you're packed enough as it is. Like Gar' said, we have some money, so we'll probably just rent an apartment out."
Misty smiled. "Then you'll probably be living near Ash and me for a while. That's good- sometimes I don't like walking half way across town for a little social company." Her smile dropped. "Ash hardly ever talks to me, so he doesn't really count. Still, he's better than nothing. Being in that room alone would give me the creeps."
"You get lonely a lot, Mist?" Tracey asked.
She rubbed her wrists together. "I don't like being by myself. It's something..." she yawned, ending this train of talk. "Mm, another perfect meal, Celia."
"Yeah, that was wonderful," Tracey agreed, setting his teacup down.
Celia blushed, all modesty. "Don't give me all the credit. Brock made the tea- of course- and Jessie helped with the main course." She reached out to take the cup from Tracey. He picked it up, to give over, and for a moment their hands touched. Tracey grinned, letting go. Celia blushed just slightly, but stood up and went to go clean up some dishes. No one else seemed to pay much attention to the small "moment."
"Well, whoever made it, thanks. But you know, the excitement and the good meal have really worn me down. I think I'll head back home," Misty decided.
"I'll come too," Ash stood up to follow.
A few seconds later, Tracey also got up. "I'd hate to wear out my welcome. Besides, we need someone to show us the way." He leant Gary a hand to get up. The ex-pilot ignored it, using the couch to help himself stand without much trouble.
"Thanks for the hospitality. I got half of my welcome home wish- a full meal," Gary said.
"What was the other half?" Frita wanted to know.
"Something kids don't need to hear," he replied, stretching. "Lead the way, Trace."
"We ought to go, too," Jessie said as James courteously helped her up.
Brock accompanied them to the door while the three children cleared the table and Celia took a much-needed break from housework.
"You're welcome to come back over whenever you want," Brock invited, always polite. "I work wall duty for about four hours on most weekdays, but Celia and the others love having people over."
"We'll probably take tomorrow to unpack, but it's nice to know we've got friends nearby," Tracey accepted the offer.
As the four went down the stairs from Brock's home and Jessie and James to the right to their apartment, Brock called to Gary, "Out of curiousity, what was the other half of your welcome home wish?"
Gary's smirk was barely visible in the moonlight. "A job this Tara girl would have been very good at. You think you can hire her to jump out of a cake?"
Brock's laughter rang through the night air.~
"Here we are," Ash announced, stopping in front of he and Misty's apartment. "Carter said yours was right above ours." He looked straight at Gary when he said, "The stairs are pretty steep- you may want to watch your step."
Gary looked as if he was about to hit the League Champ, but Tracey put a hand on his shoulder and gently steered him to the staircase. The artist managed to give Ash a look of pure disgust before disappearing up to their own apartment.
Misty was about to launch herself upon Ash, but stopped. Oddly enough, he was smiling with what looked like admiration in his eyes. "How does he do it? He just goes on, keeps living life as normal as possible, after losing his family and his leg in one year."
"Gary's learned something you haven't," Misty said quietly. "Life has its low points, but there are high points mixed in. You can't just give up on the world, even after something as tragic as what's happened to him. As the saying goes: the sun will continue to rise, and the tide will bring in something new. Think about it. That just may be the world's salvation."
She unlocked the door and walked in, waiting for Ash to come. He still wore a smile of wonderment as he followed suit, finally beginning to ask himself if the human race was worth saving after all.~
Tracey woke up in a cold sweat, breathing hard and glancing around slowly. It was that dream again. The one he'd been having for years. It always started with him watching a burning building. He tried to rush inside, to help someone, but an adult- he guessed it was a fireman- held up back. He cried out, struggling with all his might, but he was too small to get away from the man's strong hold. The walls collapsed, and he let out another scream before waking up.
Even now, he couldn't quite figure out what the dream meant. He'd been told his parents were killed in a fire when he was only about three, so he assumed that's what the nightmare was from. Tonight, though, there was something different about it. Someone else had been inside there... if he could only figure out who...
"Had the dream again?" It was Gary. He was sitting up on his own sleeping bag, flipping through a book of some kind.
Tracey nodded. "Can't sleep?"
"If I could would I be awake?" the question came out in joke form, but it was a pitiful attempt to hide some other emotion.
Tracey leaned over. "What's that?" Gary didn't need to answer. Tracey could see it was a photo album- a family scrapbook that Gary had taken with him to remember his family during the war. It was turned to a group shot, one that had been taken right before Gary and Ash had set off to the Indigo League, years ago. Brock, Misty and Tracey crowded in around the edges, all smiles and "victory" signs. Professor Oak, Mrs. Ketchum, and Gary's mother, father and sister filled up the rest of the frame, grinning like the others were. In the middle stood Ash and Gary, for once getting along to some level, faces glowing, as was everyone else's.
"That was about the only time we were all ever on good terms with each other," Gary muttered. "That, and after Ash gave me the royal ass-whooping on Indigo." He paused. "What's his problem, anyway? I know I used to be a cocky jerk, but that was years ago..."
"Is this about those comments he said earlier?" Tracey cut him off. "That crap he said about, well, that?" He never could bring himself to mention Gary's disability.
A nod. "I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but since we WERE gonna be something like step-relatives..."
"Professor Oak and Mrs. Ketchum," Tracey said needlessly.
"They were gonna get married when I got back. Only..." Tracey hoped he hadn't caught what sounded like a choked sob. Gary snapped the album shut. "No use crying over spilt milk, right? I just realized how tired I am, so, I'll hit the sack. Try getting back to sleep, all right?"
"Okay," he agreed, crawling over to his own bag.
Tracey didn't fall asleep for quite some time. He now knew who's voice he'd heard inside the building. It was Gary's.~
Ash was jostled roughly awake. Looking up, he stared into a pair of impatient blue eyes. "Will you wake up? It's nearly ten-thirty. I've never seen anyone as lazy as you are."
Ash shoved her off his bed. "What's so damn important that you had to wake me up?"
"We're going to help Gary and Tracey get settled. That apartment they got didn't have furniture like ours did. So, we're going to loan them a couch and a few other things. Tracey's busy unpacking, and obviously Gary can't help me carry stuff up, so that leaves you."
He sighed, standing up and throwing some clothes on. After a quick meal, he stood up and walked reluctantly upstairs with her, intent on being as cold as humanly possible.
Gary met them at the door. "Hi. Come on in. Tracey's shoving the bit of furniture we got around." He laughed a little. "Sometimes I worry about his sexuality. I thought only queers liked to decorate."
"I heard that!" Tracey called from down the hall.
Gary shrugged. "Maybe it's an artsy thing. At any rate, feel free to give some tips." He tossed a hand in a feminine gesture, saying in an over-acted lisp, "But do watch that you don't dirty up the good carpet."
A Pokéball flew out of nowhere and hit Gary in the head. "To the moon, Alice!" Tracey quoted, trotting down the hall and greeting Misty warmly and Ash somewhat coldly. "You think one of you guys can help me get the bed against the wall? The Carter guy who owns this place needs to be sued- he didn't even put the damn bed in the bedroom!"
Misty leant Tracey a hand, and they went down the hall and disappeared into an adjoining room. Gary started back to the living room, Ash on his heel. "I'm just clearing out our bags," Gary explained, sitting on the carpet with Tracey's backpack in front of him. "You'd be amazed at the kind of ancient things I find. If you wanna help, just pick a bag and go nuts."
Ash moved over to a blue duffel bag. The Champ unzipped it, sliding the contents onto the floor. What looked like at least three hundred Pokéballs rolled out, all in mini-form.
"These yours?" Ash asked.
"Guess so. They all got sent to me after Pallet got destroyed," it was the nicest way to put it. "I never had a chance to sort 'em out or anything, so I just kept them in there."
Ash picked up a couple, remarking lightly, "You can't tell what's in them. No marks."
"I was gonna label them, but like I said, time's hard to find in the boonies. The only one that'll have anything on it is my first one- Eevee." His face lit up at the name. "I haven't seen that old thing in half a decade. Be nice to see how she's holding up."
Ash tossed one ball over. "Says Eevee on the side."
Without any particular flourish as he would have done when younger, Gary popped open the Pokéball. An Eevee, looking healthy but a little raggedy, came out, shaking its head and looking around. Upon spotting Gary, it gave a small squeal and trotted up to him. "Hey girl, miss me?" Gary noticed that a collar was placed around the animal's neck and a couple pieces of paper were tucked in it. "What're these?" Gary pulled them out, reading down one and raising an eyebrow questioningly. He flipped it over to another paper, smile dropping almost immediately. He seemed to look it over several times, then folded it up slowly.
"Well, what is it?" Ash queried, curiousity overtaking his coldness.
"A letter." Gary managed to get out. "From..."
Ash snatched it up, not bothering to ask Gary for the document. The ex-pilot didn't protest; just looked at the carpet blankly. Ash read:
'Dear Gary,
It grieves me to say that your parents have just passed on, not five minutes away from the other, and I fear I'm next. I hope you'll get this letter, but if not then I suppose one way or another we'll be seeing each other again soon.
I've enclosed a will with this, entitling you to everything. You're a very rich man, Gary, and if you make it out of the war use the money wisely. I know you will, because you've always been a very smart person, and resourceful. Give my regards to Tracey; you're both fine young men, and I know you're going to make something of yourselves.
Now, don't waste any tears on me- I've had a full life, and I've seen a lot more than most people do in a hundred years. A pity I won't see the end of this war, at least, not on Earth. I'll be meeting up with a lot of old friends, including my wife, so you needn't worry about a thing. We're all going to a good place.
Your parents are very proud of you, as am I, and I want you to know that no matter where we are that opinion will never change. Good luck in the war and the years to follow it.
Love Always,
Grandpa'
Slowly Gary reached over and took it away from Ash, who didn't resist. "Even in the very end... he was only worried about me."
Ash grabbed the will, skimming it quickly. He whistled. "Two million. You could probably live off of that for your whole life and never work a day."
"That all that matters to you?" Gary wondered blandly.
"If you don't want it, I wouldn't mind taking it off your hands," Ash told him, running a finger along the edge of the will. "You'd have to be crazy to give it up, though-"
"Take the money, if that's all you care about. It's yours," Gary said in one of the coldest voices Ash had ever heard. "I suppose the man who would have been your stepfather would like to see you happy."
"That." Ash spat the word. "I never DID agree to it. The age difference was insane."
"They loved each other!" Gary snapped, jerking his head to look the League Champ in the eyes. "And now they're gone forever and the only thing you seem to want is some damn inheritance!"
Ash didn't seem to hear. "And being related to you, no matter how distantly, always sent a shudder up my spine."
"You heartless son of a-" Gary stopped short. He took a breath. "No, that's not right. I couldn't insult your mother; you obviously didn't get this from her!" Gary stood up with surprising speed, walking swiftly to the door. "I'd better leave before I do something I wouldn't be proud of." At the living room entrance, he turned shraply and said with dripping sarcasm: "I'm sure your mother is SO proud of you, Ashton. You have amazing class."
Ash watched him leave, looking incredibly bored about the entire ordeal. "Is this still about how I humiliated you on Indigo?"
Gary, who heard the comment, suggested Ash do something very rude before slamming the apartment door behind him. Tracey and Misty, upon hearing the first raised voice, had come out to see what was going on. As a result, they'd heard most of the conversation.
"That jerk!" Misty exclaimed, flushing red.
Tracey didn't say anything to her. He stalked into the living room with a purpose, looking angrier than she had ever seen him. Curious to see what would happen, Misty followed.
Ash stood up slowly, expecting to be berated immediately by Misty or Tracey, or both. He knew it was coming, but didn't really care. Ash had found a way to listen without paying much attention. Tracey came around the corner quickly, storming up to him.
"Yeah, I know, I've been a very bad boy," Ash said dryly. "Want me to stand in a corner?"
Without warning Tracey swung out, fist connecting solidly with Ash's chin. Ash took a step back, putting a hand to his face, completely caught off-guard.
Tracey wasn't what you would call a big guy. After a short growth spurt when he was thirteen, Tracey had barely done more than half an inch. At five-foot-seven, he hardly looked a match for Ash. But standing there, literally quivering in anger, fists clenched and defiant, Ash felt a pang of fear race through him.
"That," he said slowly, "was from Gary. And this," faster than Ash could react Tracey clipped him hard in the same place, "was from you're mom. You bastard." He stormed out before Ash had a chance to retaliate, not that he really planned to fight back.
"About time someone did that." Misty, leaning against the doorframe, had seen the whole thing. "Maybe it'll knock some sense into your thick skull." And she, too, left.
Ash felt along the place Tracey had punched him; he could already feel the swelling. Slumping down into the single chair in the room, his face broke into a smile. "He wouldn't have had a chance against me, but he did it because he cared about his friend. Maybe there's something about this race that I've been overlooking."
Chapter Three: The DecisionChapter Index
