This and following chapters contain some PG-rated material.

The Beautifly Effect

Chapter Thirteen -- Shock

The hiss of the life support, the antiseptic smell, the periodic beep of the monitor faded into the background. All Ash was conscious of in the small room was Misty's motionless hand in his and the rhythmic movement of her chest... and his own guilt and anxiety. He wished Pikachu were allowed in--he could use the companionship and sympathy of his little friend--but hospital rules had to be obeyed.

Her hand moved. He looked at her face. Her eyes were slowly opening. She groaned.

"Misty?"

"...Ash?..."

Her voice was obviously weak, but at last she had regained consciousness. He should alert the nurse.

"...Ash...are...you...there?"

"Easy Misty."

"...oh...hurts..."

"You're in hospital. It's OK," he reassured, "I'll get the nurse."

"Ash...I...love you...always...loved you."

"Oh Misty, I love you too. I'm sorry I never said it before. I'm... sorry it had to come to this."

"I'm sorry...Richie..."

"No, Misty. It's my fault. I pushed you away. Now rest, I'll get the nurse."

"...always...remember me..."

Her breathing stopped. The heart monitor went wild.

Moments later two nurses rushed in and moved Ash out of the way. A doctor rushed in past him.

"Please, save her," he pleaded.

"Wait outside," the doctor replied.

Ash went to the door but remained inside. He couldn't leave her, not now.

He watched helplessly as they tried to resuscitate her. Twice, three times, her half-broken body convulsed with electric shocks as they tried to restart her heart. All the time, Ash could not help thinking how much he was to blame.

After anxious minutes, the hospital staff gave up. They switched off the life support system. Before the doctor left the room, he approached Ash.

"Sorry son. We did our best."

Sorry son. The words echoed deeply into his soul. We did our best. He fought against them, refusing to believe, refusing to let them defeat him.

Ash screamed.

"No!! Misty... No!!"

There was no way out of it. He was defeated. He was guilty. He was to blame for someone's death. If only he had treated her better, if only... if only...

He ran up to her and grabbed her with both arms. Shaking her lifeless body, he kept screaming, pleading for things to be different.

Pikachu ran in, yelling out "Pikachupi!" It jumped onto her bed, tears streaming down past its red cheeks and onto the bedding below.

One of the nurses came and picked up Pikachu. The other took Ash by the arm and moved him away.

"There's no more we can do for her," she said.

"It's my fault this has happened."

"You can't blame yourself. Sit down outside, I'll get you something."

"No it is my fault. All the time with her, I put Pokémon first and her second. Now I've lost her, I've lost my career, I've ruined a friendship."

"You can make a comeback next year."

"No. I can't face Pokémon again, not after what it's led to. It's over. I've got nothing left to live for."

"Ash, you mustn't talk like that."

"You know my name?"

"Everyone here knows your name."

The implications of the nurse's last statement fazed him. He didn't mind being cheered by countless fans, but now his failure, his guilt, his whole personal life would be publicized to the world.

Ash ran out of the hospital. Pikachu ran after him.

"Pikapi!" it called out, but Ash did not reply.