Disclaimer: Pokemon never will and never has belonged to me, but instead to it's rightful owners 4Kids Entertainment, Nintendo, Game Freak, so on and so forth.
A/N: I received the idea of this fic from the story of Marla Hanson (you can read what it was at http://www.greatertalent.com/biography.php?id=191) and I suggest you do, because its very interesting and touching. This story isn't a complete copy of the reality, I just used a similar theme and I hope no one minds or takes offence. If you have a problem, feel free to contact me. I simply wanted to have a go at writing such a story myself – especially after I saw the movie that had been based on Ms. Hanson's tragedy.
Slashed
Chapter 4 -Come Clean
“This station is Pallet Town. The train terminates here.”
Misty heard the electronic female voice ring through the train and swallowed.
'Why am I here again?' she asked.
'To find Duplica,' whatever was left of her common sense replied.
'Oh man, oh man, oh man, I cannot do this,' Misty thought as she exited from the train. The twenty-five year swung her bag over her shoulder and ignoring such thoughts, slipped out of the train station and realized that the morning was almost over.
'Stop being such a pussy,' she told herself.
She was wearing a pair of big sunglasses with a scarf wrapped around her head and neck. True, it looked odd with the rest of her scruffy outfit but these were the only things that really concealed Misty's scars.
Ignoring the funny looks, people were sending in her direction Misty headed for a certain Ketchum's residence, apprehension growing in the pit of her stomach.
*****
Mrs. Delia Ketchum was lounging in a plastic deckchair in her front garden. Her Mr. Mime was fanning her with one of its obnoxiously large hands. She sighed. She had been gardening for a full hour and a half. She had never felt so exhausted in her life.
“Can you believe it, Mimey?” she asked, “I'm getting old.”
The fifty year old woman struggled to her feet, running a hand through her greying brown hair.
“Now where is that lazy son of mine?” she murmured, “Ash? Ash!”
“Here mom,” a handsome, black-haired man stepped out of the house behind her. Dressed in a leather jacket and jeans he didn't look a day older than twenty with his boyish looks but in truth he was almost twenty four.
“Hello, dear,” Mrs. Ketchum smiled. She noticed a small figure behind Ash and recognized his girlfriend May who tended to adopt the duty of being Ash's personal shadow. Mrs. Ketchum half-frowned at the girl's god-worship of her son but then shook such thoughts away.
'No need to go about interfering in his life,' she thought, 'He's a big boy now – he can take care of himself. Well, almost.'
“Ash, help me with the weeds,” Delia asked, “They're everywhere.”
“Sure thing, mom,” Ash nodded and bent down, May bobbing behind him.
“Hello, May,” Delia said, “How are you?”
“I'm okay, Mrs. Ketchum,” the girl squealed, “Ash was just helping me with my Pokemon training.”
“She's getting real good, mom,” Ash winked at his mother who forced a smile. Mrs. Ketchum knew that May had quit battling at the age of sixteen and picked it up again only recently. Of what Delia had seen, May was the most pathetic trainer she had ever known.
'Looks like I've been surrounded by Pokemon masters too long,' Mrs. Ketchum thought, referring to the late Mr. Ketchum and his talented son. She glanced at Ash, pride swelling in her heart. She, personally, thought he could have done much better than May.
“Where's Pikachu, Ash?” Delia asked.
“He's inside. Brock cooked him some of his famous ketchup pies. Mr. I-like-to-stuff-my-face is sitting there, gorging himself,” Ash grunted in disgust.
May and Mrs. Ketchum refrained from giggling when he said that.
Suddenly, Mrs. Ketchum noticed a woman walking towards them. She was of average height, athletically built and had long hair the colour of fire which was being whipped back by the breeze. She was wearing faded jeans, a white shirt and a pair of big, tinted glasses that covered a good deal of her face. A tan scarf was wrapped around her neck and head. She looked familiar – even from a distance.
After some strolling, the woman came to the Ketchum household. The three people and Pokemon standing in the garden eyed her suspiciously. She looked very familiar, especially to Ash, Delia and Mr. Mime.
“Is this Duplica's house?” she asked in a small voice.
Realization struck Ash. She was probably one of Duplica's obnoxious friends who invaded their house every so often. Even though they were never this quiet.
“Yes, dear,” replied Mrs. Ketchum in her most hospitable tone, “She's inside – probably in the kitchen. You can go right in.”
The redhead thanked them and slipped inside.
“Wonder what she wants Duplica for?” Ash thought aloud.
Mrs. Ketchum shrugged, “I don't know. But I'm pretty sure I've seen her before.”
“Maybe she's one of Duplica's friends,” Ash suggested.
“Probably,” Mrs. Ketchum replied.
Deciding they had stumbled upon the truth, the pair returned to their pulling out of weeds.
*****
Once Misty had entered the Ketchum residence, she navigated her way to the kitchen. The house looked pretty much the same except the photos on the walls now depicted an older, more mature Ash.
The smell of baking was strong in the air and Misty sniffed longingly. Pie, perhaps? Oddly, enough it was tinged with scent of ketchup.
Who was baking? She wondered. Brock, maybe? Did Brock live here too?
Her question was answered when she walked into the kitchen. Sitting at the table was Pikachu – Ash's Pikachu who Misty instantaneously recognized – chewing an insanely large chunk of pie in its mouth. Chuckling at him was the dark-skinned, tall form of her long lost companion Brock Slate who was dressed casually in a pair of tracksuit bottoms and grey shirt. Sitting beside him on the kitchen tabletop, her long legs swinging was teal-haired Duplica laughing loudly at the scene. She was wearing a pair of outrageously tiny shorts and a fuchsia pink halter neck.
“Um, Duplica?” Misty asked.
Duplica looked up at her and waved a hand, “That's me. How can I help?”
“Are you Duplica the lawyer?”
The woman posed seriously, “Yes, yes, of course. I'm Duplica the lawyer.”
She let out a peal of laughter and punched Brock.
“Can you believe it? Me, a lawyer?”
“You've been a lawyer for over a year, honey.”
“I know,” Duplica chortled, “I just can't believe it.”
It dawned on Misty that they were married. No wonder Duplica was staying at Ash's house.
Brock turned his narrowed eyes towards Misty and scrutinized her. Misty blushed under his close examination.
“Say, isn't that Misty?” he asked.
“Hi, Brock,” Misty tried to stop her voice from squeaking but to no avail, “Hey Duplica. It is me... Misty.”
“Misty,” Brock boomed and the redhead decided that he hadn't read the newspapers about her yet. He engulfed her in a brotherly embrace and Duplica hopped down from her seat to squeeze Misty's arm lightly.
“Misty,” Brock exclaimed, “Long time no see. What brings you to our humble abode?”
“You mean, Mrs. Ketchum's humble abode,” the redhead teased and was surprised to find her sense of humour had been restored.
“Yeah, yeah,” Brock replied, “So?”
“Um, actually, I was wondering if Duplica would consider taking up my case?” Misty queried.
“Your case?” Duplica raised an eyebrow, “What case?”
Misty sighed, deciding it was time to come clean. Slowly, she unwrapped the scarf from her head and took of her huge shades. Duplica and Brock let out twin gasps of horror.
“Mew help me, Misty,” Brock murmured, “What happened to your face?”
“It's a long story,” Misty replied, “Mind if I sit down?”
*****
After an hour and several mugs of hot chocolate Misty finished narrating her tale to her shocked audience – Duplica, Brock and Pikachu.
“Pika pi, pikachupi!” Pikachu chattered angrily.
“Pikachu's right,” Brock said gravely, “It is outrageous.”
“I know,” Misty gazed at her hands which were clasped in her lap. She looked up at Duplica and saw the blue-haired woman regarding her closely.
“So you want me to represent you in your case?”
“Yeah,” Misty responded, “That would be -”
She was cut off by the interruption she had been dreading all afternoon. Ash, Mrs. Ketchum, May and Mr. Mime trouped into the kitchen, chatting amiably. Abruptly, they all froze in shock as Misty rose slowly.
“Hey guys,” she said trying to come off as confident as ever. She held out a hand, “Long time no see.”
“Misty?” Ash asked, not believing what he was seeing.
“That's my name,” Misty replied shakily.
Ash stepped forward and Misty found herself – completely against her will – drawn closer to him. He reached up with one of his hands to feel her scars. Half of Misty felt her body tingling at the warmth of his touch, as for the other half...
“ASH, YOU JERK!” she thundered, “THAT HURTS! GET OFF!”
“Same old Misty,” Brock mumbled from behind.
“Sorry,” Ash whispered in fear, scooting back.
“Misty dear?” Mrs. Ketchum's voice wavered as she approached the girl, “What happened?”
Unable to repeat it for a second time, the redhead glanced desperately at Brock. Reading her mind, the Pokemon breeder quickly told her story to the other four who had yet to hear it.
Once he had finished, both Ash and Mrs. Ketchum slumped into a pair of chairs left unoccupied by the kitchen table. May followed Ash's example and Misty suppressed a growl.
Ash was the first to recover. He banged a fist against the table.
“That-that's inhuman! That, that little...”
“Ash,” his mother warned him.
“Fine, that little freak! How could he do that? I'm gonna...I'm gonna make him pay!”
“Ash, under no circumstances are you making Rudy pay,” Misty told him, acting as if a good deal of her body wasn't thrilled to pieces at the protectiveness Ash had just displayed, “I am going to make Rudy pay. If Duplica agrees, of course.”
“Duplica,” Ash looked shocked, “Agree!”
“Pardon?” Duplica glanced at him with an air of disdain, “These things take thinking about, Ashy boy. Even though I doubt you have any thing in that thick skull of yours to help you think about anything in the first place.”
Her gaze swivelled to Misty, “But he's right. It would be totally wrong of me to not help you. So I've decided...I will represent you in this case!”
When she said this, she got up dramatically and posed.
“It's 'cos she has no other cases ongoing,” Brock explained quietly.
Duplica heard him and face flashing crimson, she brandished a paper fan and whacked her husband.
“Duplica, what happened to Ditto?” Misty voiced the question which had been running up and down in her head for some time now.
Duplica's face fell and she slid back into her seat.
“Well, y'see Misty,” she began to explain, “Theatre, be it road performing or on a proper stage, is very scant in Kanto. Kanto's all about movies and television – no one cares for actual live performances. Ditto and I tried as best as we could to make it work but the pay was just so...so bad. So in the end, I decided to try out for something else.”
“Being a lawyer?”
“I know. I was shocked, myself,” Duplica giggled, “But my uncle runs a law-school. He was surprisingly happy to offer me a place. I'm only a beginner but I'm not that bad – if I may say so yourself.”
Misty's eyes shimmered with a vague joy, “Don't worry, you're perfect! All the other lawyers in your field were men. I've had quite enough of men to last me a lifetime.”
“What's wrong with guys?” Ash protested from behind, “You can't judge us by the worst of our specimen.”
“Don't worry,” Misty shot back, “I didn't judge men by you.”
The others laughed. Ash opened his mouth to retort but his mother, who had assumed the post of thoughtful hostess once more, hushed him.
“Misty, dear,” she said softly, “You've had such an ordeal. We'll do whatever we can for you but that's not much unfortunately.”
Misty smiled radiantly, the first proper smile she had shown in days, “Don't worry Mrs. Ketchum. This is quite enough. Anyway it's getting late. I should go back now.”
“No dear,” Mrs. Ketchum said firmly in a very motherly fashion, “It's six already and it will take you two hours to get back to Pewter alone! I simply refuse to let you go now. Stay and have dinner with us, you can stay the night in the guest room. Ash will drive you back tomorrow morning.”
A sudden thought struck Mrs. Ketchum, “In fact it would probably be better if you stayed here till the trial, wouldn't it?”
“Yeah!” cried Ash, a little more enthusiastically then he should have. May scowled at him.
“That's a great idea, Delia,” Brock nodded in approval, “Me and Ash will go pick up your things tomorrow, Misty. It's also probably safer for you here anyway.”
“But I couldn't,” Misty said graciously.
“No buts,” Mrs. Ketchum rapped, “You're staying here and that's final. I can always use an extra hand here and there, Misty dear. Your being here would make us very happy.”
“Pika pi,” the electric mouse agreed.
“Well if you insist,” Misty murmured, blushing bright red.
“Not that happy of course,” Ash joked, wiping the scarlet right of Misty's cheeks.
“Why you!” Misty growled and dived at him.
“Aaaargh!” the young Pokemon Master yelled and knocked over his chair as he raced upstairs, Misty hot at his heels. The sounds of the others laughing rung in the red head's ears as she chased her former best friend down the landing.
Abruptly, she stopped as he hid in his room. Misty felt a strange, fuzzy emotion trapped into her chest. For the first time in many years it seemed as if some normality was returning to her life.
************************
A/N: Hmm...well that was rubbish. Sorry about that, hopefully the next chapter will be better. Anyway please review! Even if it's to tell me that I suck.
My email address is: lethal.shinken@gmail.com