Title: Fool’s gold
Author: Shadow/Phantomness
Pairing: WataShi (Lance x Ash)
Fandom: Pokémon
Theme: #19, Golden Goblet

Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism. Thank you. *Phantomness bows*

Notes: <> for telepathy, ** for thoughts, italics if a pokemon talks

Warnings: Shonen-ai and het, anti-Palletshipping, partner betrayal, fanon, attempted suicide

 

            Gary takes what he wants, with no consideration for anyone else’s feelings, and sex is supposed to feel good, so Ash doesn’t complain. He’s rather too ashamed to tell Lance, even though she is technically his girlfriend, because even if it wasn’t what he expected he still got off on it.

            Logically, Ash knows that he should tell and get it over with quickly. Lance will forgive him if she truly loves him, right?

            Unfortunately, Ash isn’t always logical, and it winds up going on for a while.

 

            They’re having a medieval fair, and Lance passes out golden goblets – imitation of course – filled with mead, honey-sweet. When she is finished, she takes a vial from her pocket and adds something more to her own.

            It is better not to feel. She is honestly too tired to feel. She pastes on a facsimile of a smile as she weaves through the crowd, and she doesn’t look too hard at the booths. She is quite sure she will see what she fears the most, if she does.

            She examines a woman’s booth with ridiculously overpriced medieval-style clothing, and then decided that she’s had enough of this farce.

            She is passing by several people wearing armor and fencing, and for a minute, she almost smiles, remembering a snatch of conversation she once had.

 

            The purer the heart, the sharper the sword…

 

            She sips at her mead, hides a grimace at the bitter taste of the poison, and chips a flake of gold paint off with a sharp fingernail.

            Facades…

            She hates them, but at the same time, she can’t live without them. It’s like an addiction, really.

            Lance calmly finishes the rest, and then leaves.

 

            Gary is flirting with a girl, so Ash is bored. He watches the minstrel show for a while – the costumes are wonderful, and the girl strumming her mandolin has a good voice, but soon enough, he spots Lance.

            Ash hasn’t talked to Lance – not honestly, in a while.

            They haven’t really talked about anything, Ash remembers. Whenever they do speak, it’s about trivial matters or League policy.

            But it’s sunny today, and the sky is blue, and there are fluffy clouds dotting the sky, so Ash decides to take a chance.

 

            Lance spots the little shadow trailing her as they approach the outskirts, and she stops to buy a pastry puff from one of the stalls, holding a white napkin wrapped around apples in sugar sauce.

            She begins to eat as she continues walking down the road back to the Plateau.

            Ash follows.

 

            They’re almost at the front door when Ash finally speaks. He’s been fidgeting, but Lance doesn’t care. Why should she care?

            “Lance?”

            “Yes?” Her voice was calm.

            “Can we talk?” Ash’s voice is pathetically hopeful. Lance wants to crush that hope out of him by its throat, but she feels too tired.

            “Whatever.” She opens the door, beckons Ash in. Ash almost bounces. Once upon a time, she might have smiled at the sight.

            That was a long time ago.

 

            She doesn’t speak, she just gazes at Ash, waiting. Finally, Ash opens his mouth.

            “I’m with Gary.”

            “I know.” Lance says.

            Ash blinks. “You knew?”

            It would have been impossible to miss. Did Ash think he was fooling anyone? “I knew.”

            “Oh. So you don’t mind?” Ash inquires.

            It doesn’t even hurt. “No.”

            “That’s good.” He grins in relief, the idiot. “I was afraid you’d be mad.” He adds, almost shyly.

            “That’s nice. I’m not mad.”

            He nods happily. “Well then, I guess we’ll just be friends now, right?”

            “Right,” Lance is glad the conversation is over.

            She turns around and leaves and makes it to her room before she starts coughing up blood.

 

            She still wakes up the next morning, and she curses when she realizes that even the ground glass didn’t work.

            She puts one foot in front of the other, takes a shower, eats her cereal and milk mechanically, and goes on with her day.

            She is not bright anymore.

            Somehow, it is no longer a concern.

 

            Two weeks later, she loses a match. She resigns from the Elite Four then, and she can see the gleeful look on Gary’s face all too clearly, if she wants to focus.

            She doesn’t.

            Gary already has already taken everything important – losing her position doesn’t even sting.

           

            Ash should be happy now that Gary has replaced Lance, since Gary is important, but Gary is lazy and doesn’t turn in his paperwork on time like Lance does, and that means that Ash has lots of extra work, and after he wakes up sore after Gary drilled him through the mattress another night, he realizes that there are bruises all over their body and it hurts.

            It’s just not fun any more!

            He’s not in love with Gary.

            He’s sick of being taken without his consent, sick of having to endure all the pain.

            He wants to talk to someone, but with Lance gone, he has no one to talk to.

            Ash misses Lance.

           

            Lance takes her pills every night. She has enough money to live comfortably for the rest of her life, so she buys a small cabin out in the Orange Islands, and hopes that she never, ever runs into Ash again.

            Fate never smiles on her.

            These are the trials a Guardian must endure.

 

            Ash is stumbling, and his eyes are wet with tears, and he’s a mess when he arrives on Lance’s porch. She calls Charlotte to take care of the problem, and then shuts herself up in her study and tries again to slit her wrists.

            It fails, of course. She heals too quickly.

            The only way out is to call the Sword, but she is not sure she wants to take it, and she does not think they deserve it. She will not leave humanity any refuge.

 

            Charlotte gives Ash poppy syrup to drug him into immobility, and heals him, but her eyes are troubled.

            < He does not deserve forgiveness? >

            < No, he does not. > Lance agrees.

            < Then we will wait. >

 

End Fic

Completed 8/20/07

Edited 4/17/09

I wouldn’t be up with insomnia if there weren’t drunk, loud people and gunshots outside my window at 3 A.M. almost every night…

Have I mentioned that I hate Gary? I have got to quit writing these angsty things. And Ash just doesn’t seem to realize that Lance likes monogamy, not that they were having sex yet, but still!

I think I need a sequel…