Chapter Three: Half Truths Where is the moment Where we're needed the most? -Daniel Powter The sky stretched on like a sheet of silver. The rain interwove into the frosted kiss of the gale. Ash braced himself against the freezing storm and the equally bitter reprimands of the chilled pokemon on his shoulder "Umbrella! Umbrella!" snapped Pikachu. "I told you to get the stupid thing, and you refused to listen to me." Ash only smiled wryly back. He had a vague idea with what Pikachu was mad about. He had refused once again to purchase an umbrella in addition to their supplies. He didn't dare mention that the umbrella would have been little to no use in this wind. Both pikachu and he knew perfectly well that as soaked as Ash was now- he would be a perfect conductor of electricity. The puddles looked like liquid mercury on the pavement. He watched as them splash upon intrusion and fold back upon themselves. They swelled and spilled all over the ground as if the earth could just not contain them. For some reason, they reminded him of Misty. Ash almost didn't notice when he nearly ran down a person ahead of him. Trails were usually devoid of other travelers- so to run into someone else taking the same route was usually an unprecedented event. He saw their outline, blurred, just as he turned to avoid them. There was an overestimation in his spin, and Ash found his feet slipping out beneath him. Pikachu screeched in his ear and leapt from his shoulder- hopefully to safety. But Ash couldn't catch himself. Unconsciously he squeezed shut his eyes and braced for a painful encounter with the asphalt. A hand latched itself around his wrist and lessened his drop. His shoulder popped. A sharp twist in the wrong direction announced the consequences with an excruciatingly large amount of pain. He didn't cry out, despite it all. Instead he hissed out a breathless grasp of his agony. The grip on his wrist remained until Ash broke free of it. Cradling his limp wrist, Ash looked up at whoever had saved him from a worse injury. "Are you alright, boy?" "Somehow," came Ash's weak reply. "I'll take that. Somehow's always better than the no-hows." It was an old man. His skin was spotted and yellowish looking in the silver light. With only a few wisps of hair across his scalp, watery button black eyes and a grand old nose sprouting like a very unhealthy beat-up beanstalk from his face- the man had a very hard look to him. Concern clouded Ash's face. He noticed that this old man was wearing scarcely a jacket. His clothes were perhaps nothing more than an afterthought to himself. Both sweater and slacks were weighed down with rainwater. Much longer and the man was sure to catch hypothermia. "Hey Grandpa. You'll get yourself sick walking outside like that." Ignoring the own searing pain shooting up his arm, Ash climbed up again. His jacket was damp but still warm. To say it was drier than the man was an understatement. Without a second though, Ash took the thing from his shoulders and draped it over that of the man's. "There. Aren't you warmer this way?" The man stared blankly back at him. In those beady empty little eyes, memories stirred. Ash's place was filled by a young woman. Her chocolate locks hung heavy with perspiration and a bright smile bared mercilessly upon him. Her face was back dropped by the underside of her pink umbrella. Her soft lips formed the same thing. Their eyes aligned in his jigsaw puzzle. "Oh. You must be Delia's son." Ash didn't bother to hide his surprise. "You know my mother?" "I know them both." "Excuse me?" "Your mother and father both." "In Kanto?" "In Can-what? "In the Kanto region. The country that houses the International Indigo Pokemon League Championships?" "That pokemon training who-ha makes no sense to me, boy. It makes no difference- I've never left the Algersa Peninsula, save for a few blind trips through the Orange Archipelago. I knew them on this soil. Not on any foreign canned dirt." "You must be mistaken." Pikachu leapt onto Ash's good shoulder, his front paws landing first followed by his hind legs. Ash didn't even flinch. "My father died a long time ago. He never left the far eastern regions. And my mother... she's been in Kanto her whole life." "Whoever told you that bullshit was lying. I know John! I may not have known your mother well but I knew him damn well. Better than most!" He seemed to have gotten rattled, thrashing his small sharp fists in the air. Ash contemplated on intervening but the fists made a compelling argument. "Damn good man," The old man rambled onward, "Damn good squad leader- never known one better in Rocket-dan." The old man didn't hear Ash's sharp intake of breath. And if he did, he didn't show any sign of recognizing its implication. "You don't have of much John's look about you at all. You have those kinder eyes..." "Did she say that to you?" Ash shifted uneasily in his chair unable to respond. "I can't believe- surely you mis... heard..." It sounded silly even to her own ears. How could someone mishear something like that. "Misheard," Ash laughed dry laughter. "I wish I had." His face darkened and she lost him to his own thoughts. Their food left on the table discarded. Even Pikachu only numbly chewed on its gremlin cookie under the safety of the table legs. "She had every right to request it of me. If I stopped training then I could get a job that produced a real income. I'd be home more often... safety wouldn't be an issue anymore." "She's right, you know," Misty paused. "You understand her reasoning well." "She explained each point thoroughly to me..." He sounded almost amused in saying so. "We had several arguments about it. I honestly couldn't come up with a single decent excuse. I even pretended to cave... lied and said I would take a position as a gym leader as soon as I hit thirteen if I wasn't yet in the elite ranks. "Thirteen came around and of course, I still had no intention of taking on a leader position... she confronted me that night. It only got worse from there." Ash's voice faltered. With his eyes downcast, Misty couldn't tell what he was thinking. He was always a difficult person to understand. "What happened?" Misty urged. At first it seemed as though Ash wouldn't respond. Guilt surged through her. But then Ash looked up. Their eyes met and Misty unconsciously sucked in a breath. There were tears in his eyes. "I was stupid. I-I said so... so many bad things." When he breathed in, his breath was shaky. His hands were trembling in his lap. And his eyes blinked in rapid succession, trying to push back the tears. "I was trying to... and I... I just exploded. I should have never... said those things." "Ash, she's your mother. She would..." Ash just shook his head. "You don't understand. It got worse, our fight. And I... I accused her. I called her terrible things and she..." "We all lose sense of ourselves sometimes... when we're angry." I should know, Misty added silently to herself. Ash's face was red now. Pikachu had hidden further beneath the legs of the table. "She lied to me about my father!" Ash's hands slammed against the table giving Misty a start. "Your fa..." "She told me my father died. When I confronted her, she refused to admit she was lying. I-I ran into someone... he had pictures, Mist! Pictures! Hell, I was such an idiot. I never questioned her, even when her stories contradicted themselves. Pokemon trainer. Shit, he was a damn miserable member of the rocket-dan! He raped my mother... no- more than likely she's just a filthy who-" Misty's hand reacted fast than her mind. She slapped him- hard. His cheek was red, and he made no effort to turn his head back to her. Tears welled up in her eyes and his tears disappeared. His eyes looked so dull and empty. So shocked that she would do such a thing to him. "She wasn't." Her voice spoke without her. "I know." Ash swallowed and then nodded. "I know... Even though I called her those things. I knew it wasn't true." Before Ash could make a move against it, Misty's arms enveloped him. She pressed him tightly against her. She was hiding his face- shielding his sadness and giving him permission to let all encumbrance go. He leaned his cheek against her shoulder and closed his eyes. It felt good to be held, although Ash would never admit it. His arms fit around her waist. And in this way he pretended that he had never left. People were looking their way. Misty sent them along with a single swift glare. Think what you want. It doesn't matter. Her hands ran through his dark hair- unconsciously smoothing back locks tenderly as she held him. "I don't care who your father is, Ash. Even if he were a criminal that wouldn't make you one." Misty whispered into his ear. "I know." There was a pause before Ash added, ever so softly. "Could you just hold me a little longer, Mist?" Misty smiled. "I missed you too." He had a very straight posture. That was the first thing Ash could tell from the photographs. He took in each detail in turn. The pale face and the cold eyes. Scrawny in the earliest photos- but with a dangerous look in his eyes that hinted that things wouldn't always be that way. The old man was right. Ash did not look like this man. This man looked like a monster. The old man's name was Frank. For the past several years, Frank had been a reclusive living out his forced retirement in a shack near the peak of Delani- one of the taller mountains in the Ruma mountain range. Frank led them there, and invited both Ash and Pikachu inside out of the rain. It was obvious the man had gone senile. Something bad had happened to him. By the look of the hut, it wasn't built to be merely a shelter but rather a fort. It was tucked away far from the path. Either the silence of solitude had done away with the man's mind or something much worse had happened. Ash watched the man cautiously for signs of aggression- but still he jabbered on in worlds beyond his own. It wasn't a trap. The man wasn't supposed to tell Ash these things, but he had long since lost the sense to know that. The one room shack was littered with boxes. There was a kitchen to one side. A mattress lay on the floor opposite of the front entrance. And a door that looked like it led to some sort of bathroom. Upon closer inspection, the sinks had running water. Which brought Ash to believe that perhaps Frank had indoor plumbing as well. Ash searched the house as the man rambled with Pikachu nervously at his side. Pikachu didn't trust the man. He was once a member of the rocket-dan; Pikachu's fear was understandable. But now the man was harmless. Did Frank really know Ash's parents? And was John really Ash's father? Ash wasn't sure, but he was going to follow this lead a thoroughly as he could. It was the first lead he ever had on his father's identity. And even if it led to a dead end, he would be one step closer to understanding one of the most deadly organizations in their known world. Frank was sitting on the couch now, peeling both Ash's jacket from his shoulders first. Next he removed his own drenched trench coat revealing a lacing of painful scars running down his arms and perhaps even all down the man's back as well. Ash stared wide-eyed at the wounds until he realized what he was doing. He looked away and quickly busied himself further with investigation. So the man was probably tortured? Was he a traitor? Maybe he was even a turncoat, or a double agent? Ash couldn't be sure Frank was a turncoat with how highly he spoke of the organization. But something had gone wrong... Ash aimlessly pried off the lid of one of the many boxes. Pikachu leapt back at the sight of the thing inside. Even Ash had to let out an audible gasp. Guns. Tons of them, and ammunition. The next box had much of the same. But the boxes closer to the wall held empty pokeballs and hunter traps. The boxes near the mattress were the worst- piled high with illegal pokemon pelts. Pikachu was trembling on his shoulder at the end of the search, and Ash could do nothing to comfort him. Ash felt just as ill. Team Rocket didn't just steal pokemon from trainers after all. They hunted them- probably tortured and experimented on them as well. Even the thought of the pokemon that Frank himself had brought to an end was nauseating. "Murderers," Ash whispered. "They're all murderers." "Look!" Frank shoved a photo album under Ash's nose so suddenly that Ash nearly fell onto his back. "There he is. Just like I told you! John!" The young boy in the picture glared up at Ash. In fact, in all the pictures he appeared to be glaring. Ash flipped the page carefully. He watched curiously as this John slowly grew up. No picture showed a hint of the rocket-dan. They were doing normal things. Frank was fishing with the young boy. Then they were on the beach. Later they were hiking. John slowly grew up from a scary looking kid to an even scarier looking adult. "How did you know... John?" Ash asked warily. "I worked for his mother. Then later, I worked for him." Frank beamed proudly. Ash did not join in with his smile. There was no true sign that John was related to him. The most that Ash could tell was that their hair and eyes were the same color and they suffered the same build as children. He didn't believe John was related to him at all. Then Ash flipped to the last page. And there she was. His mother barely out of her teenage years, one arm over John's shoulder, and wearing a pink bikini on the docks of some vague location. Ash found himself blushing for noticing how really beautiful his mother was. She was smiling widely, sending a peace sign to whoever the cameraman was. And she was there. She was in the photograph. John looked noticeably uncomfortable at her touch. Ash could tell by his expression that he really did like his mother. For whatever reasons, he both loved and hated those arms around him. Ash wanted to save her- his mother. He wanted to puck her out of the photograph and carry her safely home. He wanted to erase John away. He wanted to rip out the man's eyes for staring so longingly at his mother. He wanted to give his mother a chance to escape the frozen perpetual and eventual hell she was trapped in. "Well that's an old picture. I wonder how that got out of place." Ash ignored Frank. He set the photo album on the coffee table. The expression on his face must have been terrible for it even broke through Frank's insensibility. "Hey boy. Are you alright?" "Yes... In a moment." Ash stood up from the couch. He didn't even remember sitting down. He ignored Frank's eyes watching him as he crossed the room. Ash opened the door to the bathroom and barely gave Pikachu time to slip in before he shut it behind himself. The lock clicked behind him. Ash leaned against the door for only a moment. The toilet and sink looked disgustingly dirty. Ash wasted no time looking at either of them. Instead his eyes went to the clouded mirror. John's eyes stared back at him. Ash's insides tossed before he could stop them. He heaved then empted his stomach all over the sink basin. Pikachu only watched in quiet horror. Ash fumbled with the knobs next to the faucet. Hot water rushed to his rescue, washing all the residue from his purging away. And he watched his face again. He didn't see John this time, but rather just himself. He was buckled over, red faced and sweating profusely. Pikachu jumped at the sudden knocking. Frank had tried to come after them. The knob jiggled and his knocking ensued. Ash could hear Frank calling for them. Ash stared hard back at his reflection. "You aren't him." He said to his tired expression. "You aren't anything like him. You aren't a murderer." "Pikapi," Pikachu began. But then he could think of nothing else to say beyond that. Tears came and ran down his face. He leaned forward almost innocently. He suddenly collapsed- chin smashing against the sink and knocking him backwards across the floor. "Pikapi!!" screamed Pikachu rushing to his aid. There was blood pooling from his master's mouth. He wasn't breathing. "Pikapi!! Pikapi!" The knocking continued and Ash could no longer respond. "Hey, are you alright?" Misty was looking at him concerned again. She had been doing that ever since they returned to the pokemon center. It was hard to keep things inside when those eyes bore so completely and thoroughly into him. "Yeah. In a moment." Ash exhaled deeply and leaned back into the plastic cushion. It squeaked uncomfortably. Pokemon center chairs weren't ever the most luxurious of furniture. "I was just remembering something unpleasant." "You should try to think of nice things." Ash cracked a smile. "For you, Mist, I'll try." She laughed. Ash wished he could join in, but he couldn't shake the tension. He showed her weakness back at the cafˇ. Things were awkward now. If anything he wanted the chance to disappear again. But now that Misty knew, she wasn't going to let him out of her sights. The television blaring the latest headline news played as mere background noise. Nurse Joy was safely in the back room- going over the stock of pokemon still left in their care. That left Ash and Misty completely alone in the lobby. She was watching the TV absentmindedly. Ash was watching her. She really had grown up considerably since he had last seen her. Before he had a crush on her- and hoped he would get over it in their absence. But running into her again only intensified his once dominant feelings. He probably was in love with her. But then what was love? No definition could possibly encompass its entire meaning. No definition could ever satisfy Ash's own doubts. What if he didn't love her? How cruel would it be to confess something he himself wasn't sure of? But he knew he felt something for her. It hurt every time he thought about her. His heart raced when he though of touching her lips- of sharing her breath. Ash's hands were shaking. He tightly grabbed his knees and closed his eyes. His heart was racing even now. Ash took in deep breaths and tried to focus on anything other than her. But of course he failed. It took a bite from Pikachu to wake him up. "Ouch! Pikachu!" "You had a stupid expression on your face." He wagged the cookie between upper and lower jaw at Ash tauntingly. Ash only scowled in return. His eyes returned to Misty who had missed the entire ordeal. Should he ask her? Misty seemed to understand feelings better than most people. Perhaps if he asked her in a vague sort of way? Ash frowned. Why go halfway? Why not just confess? There's no need to half ass something like this. So he screwed up his courage and took a deep breath. "Misty... I-" "Oh! White Ice is making an announcement!" exclaimed the red head immediately breaking Ash's resolve. She sounded giddy. It was almost disgusting. "White Ice..." said Ash in a less than pleased tone. "I hate those guys." "Eh? Why?" Ash crossed his arms. "Their pokemon fear them." "How do you know? I thought you said you weren't psychic." Misty made a face that just caused Ash's tetchiness to grow. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "You can just tell how their pokemon react to their commands. If anything- I'd say they're no better than rocket-dan." "Eh?! You shouldn't say such dangerous things, Ash! WI really helped control the wild pokemon problem. They're practically the red cross- support groups... they really help people in need. Most people consider than heroes..." "They help people. Not pokemon..." Irritably, Ash turned his attention to the television set. He didn't want to argue with Misty about such a touchy subject. It was obvious that she wouldn't see things his way. He was disappointed to realize that his chance of confessing to Misty was blown yet again. But he was more relieved than disappointed. "Approximately between the hours of ten to eleven last night there was yet another act of larceny at the eastern Johto WI head-quarters," said the heavy set man on the television set. There was a bald patch on the very top of his head and a nervous twitch to his voice that really made him look small compared to the regally dressed WI member at his side. The WI member was a blonde, and wearing the white uniform that was typically issued the force. He looked official, clean, and very well disciplined. Ash didn't like the man's eyes. They looked too uncaring- too calm. "At this time, it is estimated that up to two hundred some pokemon in White Ice's custody were stolen and then released. We have three key witnesses that had identified this man to be approximately medium in height and build. He is thought to have dark colored hair and was last seen in a gray jumpsuit with a white and black assorted helmet. WI members are cooperating with the existing police force to find the-" "We must humbly request of you good people," interrupted the WI member. His voice was strong and deep. The reporter fell silent at once, his nervous watery eyes twitching back and forth from camera to the man at his side. "We must humbly request your services in finding the perpetrator of this heinous act. And know, anyone aiding and abiding this criminal will suffer the same consequences as the criminal himself. There is no justice in crime." "Ah ha. W-well said," followed the reporter nervously. "Now to return to Jessica with tonight's weather. Jessica?" Ash just laughed. Misty stared. "Why are you laughing, Ash?" said Misty urgently. "This vigilante! He's brilliant. Two hundred pokemon! That sly bastard pulled off yet another impossible heist. I'm really starting to admire the guy." "Oi oi. Haven't you got it backwards, Ash? Hating the WI police force and admiring the criminals... I think you've been hanging around the rocket- dan too much." Misty looked at him crossly. But Ash only smiled. "Or maybe it's everyone else who's got it backwards." Misty's face broke into shock. There was something in his face that said something. She couldn't read it. "Don't tell me," Misty hissed in an undertone, covering her mouth with a careful hand just in case someone might overhear them. "That you're the vigilante." Ash broke out into laughter again sending Misty into bewilderment yet again. "Me? The vigilante?" "Well you fit the description." "Perhaps..." Ash grinned mischievously, hiding his face behind the sleeve of his arm. "I could very well be the daring vigilante! Bwhahahahahaha!" His exaggerated laughter clearing brought Misty conclusion that she was wrong. She gave him a sour look. So did Pikachu. "You could have just said no. You don't have to tease me." "But that would have been less fun." Ash noticed she still looked suspicious so he dropped the act. "Look, Mist. I might be reckless, but I'm not stupid. If you don't believe me, check the center's records. I was clearly checked in and safely here in Viridian City last night." Misty sighed and let out a sort of weak laugh. "Yeah, I know. But it really does sound like something you would do." "Yeah. I wish I had thought of it first." "Ash!" "I'm kidding! Kidding!" Then the clock donged... twice. Ash panicky yanked up his sleeve to glance at his watch. "Dammit! My match!" "Match?" "I'm taking on the Viridian Gym today and I'm late!" Ash snatched up his jacket from the chair before turning to the yellow mouse still chewing idly on his cookie, "Let's go, Pikachu." Pikachu stuffed the cookie safely between his teeth and leapt off the chair to his master's feet. Misty followed suit. "A gym match. That means you're going to compete in the Indigo league again?" "That's the general idea." "I didn't see you at my gym." "That would be because I avoided your gym." "And Brock?" "I battled his father for the badge... in disguise." "Ash!" She slammed her feet against the ground. Ash stopped but didn't dare turn. He didn't need to look to know there were tears in her eyes. "The hell! Did you want to be dead to us all?" Ash didn't answer. "This argument was between you and your mom. Why did you have to bring us into it? Why did you avoid us?" "Because... I didn't want you following me." "Wh-Why?" Ash looked at her. Misty stopped crying instantly. His expression held no words to description. He just stared. "I didn't want to become John." He left Misty stunned once again, with Pikachu trotting after. Consciousness seeped back slowly through parted fingertips. His whole face felt as if it had caved in on him. Even through the grogginess of medication, pain ached in slow waves. Opening his eyes gave him a sense of being blind. The walls and all the furniture were all a brilliant white. Blinking past the sickening sense of vertigo, Ash came to the quiet and quick conclusion that he was in a hospital. He turned his throbbing head from either side. There was a window covered with a curtain on his left. And on his right was the curled and sleeping form of his pikachu. Ash smiled an reached out a slow hand to stroke the mouse's head. "So you're awake?" Ash looked up and saw a man standing there dressed in white. A doctor the way he scribbled on the clipboard. He had been in a hospital often enough to know how this process worked. "Could you tell me your name, sir?" "Ash Ketchum. I'm twelve years old. A pokemon trainer from Pallet town. But you already know all that because you have my pokedex." He would have smirked but the action set pains through his face. "Quite correct. But we had to make sure you hadn't suffered any major head trauma. You took quite a tumble, Mister Ketchum." "What happened?" "I only know the official report. You were staying at a old hermit's lodgings and suddenly grew ill from a set in of pneumonia. You went into the bathroom of such lodgings and passed out- causing critical damage to your lower jaw, a medium sized gash in your tongue that could have very well severed it and a concussion, from a blow to the back of your head." He paused and looked up from his clipboard. His expression was easily that of pity. "You're lucky that Mister Corbin had been able to resuscitate you until such time that an paramedic team could reach your location." Frank Corbin, thought Ash with silent regard. He was a murderer who knew CPR. The paradox sent Ash's mind reeling in a tailspin. "So he saved me..." said Ash inanely. "That does appear to be the outcome, yes." "Why?" "Well, I'm sure you'd have to ask him that yourself. But I do believe it's because..." The doctor smiled. "He's human." Ash tried to come to the same conclusion as the doctor but he couldn't. Instead he rolled over and slept for two more days. His dreams were filled with happier things than his current reality. To Be Continued... Please R + R!