Broken Dreams and New Beginnings

By: Shagti2

Ages: Ash-22  Brock-27

 

 

 

Ash slowly came back to the waking world all too soon. The pain from his headache didn’t help matters any. With a slight groan, he got up from the floor and detached his hand from the half empty bottle of Johnny Walker Black.

            He was in his tiny little apartment near Indigo Plateau. After achieving his dream of becoming pokemon master when he was thirteen, Ash had thought life was set. How wrong he was. For a time, he had been happy and content, not to mention sober. But the last time he had been sober was two weeks ago.

            Ash looked around at the trashed apartment. He was in his bedroom, and it was a royal mess. Empty beer cans and bottles of liquor were all over the place, along with empty pizza boxes, newspapers and bed linen.

            Ash himself was in no better shape. He stood in the middle of the room, with a pair of boxers on. He was in good shape, but he desperately needed to clean up. His dark black hair hung limp around his face. His golden-brown eyes were no longer bright and full of life as they had been when he was a child, but bloodshot, dull and empty. His face had a few days worth of stubble, and he reeked of alcohol.

            Ash went over to the bathroom, took a leak and went back to his room. He picked back up the bottle of liquor he woke up with and took a long hard swig. As the hard liquor coursed down his body, he took some comfort in it, though he winced at the burning sensation. He lay down on the bed and took another swig. Ash sighed as he looked up at the clean white ceiling.

            E remembered the times when he used to do the same thing with his former love. They would cuddle after their passionate love-making and just stare at the ceiling, enjoying each others afterglow.

            Ash forced himself to forget those times, to blot her out of his memory. Remembering such things would only make it worse. As was about to take another swig, there was a knock on the door.

            Cursing, Ash set down the bottle on the nearby nightstand and went to answer the door. Ash didn’t care who it was, he would just tell them to leave him alone so he could get back to shutting out the world and getting drunk stupid.

            “Who is it?” Ash asked, his voice hoarse and low.

            “Uh, is this where Ash Ketchum lives?” a familiar voice asked politely. For the first time in days, Ash felt something other than sorrow and self-pity.

            “Brock? Is that you, man?” Ash asked, about ready to open the door.

            “Uh, yeah it is.”

            Ash took a deep breath and opened the door a crack. Sure enough, there was one of his oldest and dearest friends.

            Ash opened the door for him. “Brock, hey you look great.”

            Brock was looking pretty good for himself. He still stood taller than Ash, even though both had grown taller since their younger years. He still had the same spiky hair, the same dark complexion and he even still had the green vest, but instead of the brown pants and orange shirt, he had on loose fitting cargos and a white shirt underneath the vest.

            Brock went a bit bug eyed as he saw Ash. Ash had changed a lot since the last time he had seen him, and it wasn’t for the better. “ Ash, you look like crap!”

            Ash shrugged. His self-esteem and self-respect had left ages ago and shame had gone out the window with the others. “So?”

            Brock was a bit taken aback by his response. “Uh, did I interrupt something?” he asked, thinking that Ash was with someone.

            Ash scratched his head and beckoned him in. “ No, not unless you consider getting drunk doing something.”

            Brock entered, without saying a word. Brock almost had the urge to run out after seeing Ash’s apartment. As Ash closed the door behind him, Brock spun around, a thousand questions on his mind.

            “Hey, Ash why does your place look like this?” Brock asked, his voice filled with concern.

            “Did you come here to visit or to criticize?” Ash snapped, sounding angry. He didn’t mean to, but the liquor was already getting to him.

            Brock raised his hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, Ash. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that, you don’t look to good. What does…” Brock said, but was cut off by Ash.

            “Look, lets not talk about her, ok?” Ash said quietly, his head bowed. Brock nodded. A least he knew what was bothering Ash.

            Brock folded his arms. ‘Alright, that’s ok man, but where’s Pikachu?” At that, Ash broke down and started to sob. He slid to his knees, his body racked with sobs.

            Brock knelt down by his friend. “You don’t mean that he’s..” Brock asked fearfully.

            “He’s in the Center, in a coma!” Ash sobbed onto his friend’s shoulder. “ It’s all my fault, all my fault!”

            Brock hugged his friend and let him cry for a little before he urged him to continue. “Were you drunk?” Brock asked slowly.

            Ash whipped his head up, a shocked expression on hi face. “Brock, I may do some stupid things, and I may not be that great of a person, but I would never, ever, drink while training pokemon.”

            Brock gave him some space. The two sat on the dirty carpet, which reeked of spilled beer.    

            “Well, you obviously didn’t see the last time I defended my title, did you?” Ash said, more accusing than anything.

            Brock blushed. “ Uh, I was kind of with Suzie. By the time we…ur… finished, you’re match was over.”

            Ash nodded his head in understanding. “I guess that’s ok. Well I won, but Pikachu had done this move that one the match. Unfortunately, the recoil hit him so hard, he was knocked in a coma.” Ash bowed his head down again as more tears came down his face. “If I hadn’t told him to use that move, he would still be around!”

            Brock nodded his head. “What about…her?” he prodded.

            Ash turned his head away. He whispered only one word, and only one word needed to be said. “Gary.”

            Brock’s eyes went wide with that. “She was with-“

            “Yup.”

            “But she-“

            “Was lying.” Ash said, more to himself than to Brock.” You know, I would have died for her? She was everything to me, man. I mean, without her, I always thought I would die.”

            Brock cocked an eyebrow at that. “You’re not going to try to kill yourself, are you?”

            Ash nodded his head no. “No. I found out the hard way that some things are worse than death.”

            Brock nodded his head. Part of his mind thought about Suzie. He wouldn’t be able to live without her either. He shook himself out of his morbid thoughts and refocused on his friend.

            “How did you find out?” Brock needled.

            Ash gave a chuckle. It was the sort of depressed laugh men on death’s row give when they were about to die. “I caught them. Doing it. In her bed.”

            Brock gave an audible gasp.

            Ash remembered that day clearly. He had decided to make a surprise visit to her at her house. It was a beautiful day and barely 4:00. He had taken his good sweet time getting there, wanting to really surprise her. He even had bought a dozen of Golden Roses. They had cost him over 600 dollars, but it was well worth it. He had used the spare key she had given him and entered silently.

            As he headed towards her bedroom, he heard her moan in ecstasy, a sound he knew all to well. Something in the back of his mind said it wasn’t good, but he ignored it. Then he heard a strange grunting sound, sound he knew she didn’t make.

            He ran and opened up the bedroom door, only to discover the shock of his life. She was naked, straddling another man. She whipped around in surprise, shock all over her face.

            “Oh, God…” Ash whispered, his fingers suddenly numb. The roses crashed on the ground, some of the petals breaking off.

            “Uh, Ash, it isn’t what you think,” she said hurriedly.

            “You…you…” Ash stammered, trying to grasp at what he saw. Then to make things impossibly worst, he heard the voice of his worst enemy.

            “Why, hello, Loser!’ Gary sneered from underneath her. Ash felt the urge to pound Gary into nothing, but stifled it. The depression was already setting in. He turned around, his head low.

            “It’s over,” he said, tears already rolling down his face, which would be the first of many.

            “No, wait, Ash! Let me explain!” she shouted after him. By then Ash had already closed the door and was soon out of the house.

            Gary had finally beaten him; there was no doubt about it.

            “And, that’s what happened,” Ash finished, recounting the story to Brock. Brock looked at him funny.

            “Now why in he world didn’t you beat up Gary?” Brock asked, folding his arms.

            “Because, it takes two to do the horizontal mambo,” Ash replied, the phrase from childhood still fresh in his mind. He had mulled over that for some time now, and he knew it was true. Attacking Gary would have been pointless. He would still have felt as bad as he did.

            Brock stood up and helped Ash to his feet. “C’mon, man. You need to clean up. You go in the shower, and I’ll help out here, ok?” Ash blindly nodded and headed to the bathroom to take a much-needed shower.

            A couple hours later, Ash’s apartment was looking a lot better, with all the trash disposed of, and everything was put in it’s place. Ash had showered and shaved and was starting to look like his old self again. He had put on a plain black long sleeve shirt and blue jeans. He was at the dinner table and sipping some coffee Brock had prepared for him.

            “So, when was the last time you spoke to her?” Brock asked.

            “Not since that afternoon. I don’t think I’ll ever face her again,” Ash replied. They sat in silence for a while, until Ash spoke again.

            “Hey, how come, you’re down here? Pewter is quite a bit from here, and the league competition isn’t for another couple of month’s.”

            Brock leaned back in his chair. “Well, I was just in the mood for some traveling and I decided to go visit some old friends that’s all.”

            Ash nodded. Ash was still exuding a great amount of negativity.

            Brock sighed. “You have to get over her, Ash. If she won’t appreciate you, I bet you there are plenty of people who would.”

            Ash put down his cup and stared into the coffee. “But, I love her. Even now, I still do.”

            Brock was starting to get annoyed with Ash. “Look, I understand you’re hurting but, she cheated on you! You can’t just stay here forever moping and destroying your liver!”

            “Why not?” It was more of a statement than a question.

            Brock raised his hands in the air. “Dammit, Ash! I understand you love her, and to tell you the truth, I think you always will, but you have to move on with your life.”

            Ash stood up from the table and started up to his bedroom. Brock got up and grabbed his shoulder.

            “Let go of me,” Ash said quietly.

            “Ash, as your friend, I can’t let you do this to yourself. You have to move on!” Brock retorted.

            In a flash, Ash had turned around, looking angry and sad at the same time. “You know what Brock? I am tired of you staring down your nose at me! Just because your life isn’t crumbling around you, doesn’t mean that you have to act like you could put mine back together!” Ash screamed in his face.

            Brock took a step back. Ash faltered. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking away in shame.

            “Sorry’s not going to cut it, Ketchum,’ Brock said icily.

            Ash looked up at him tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me! Please forgive me!”

            Brock pointed his finger at Ash. “No. You have to do something first before I accept your apology.”

            Ash nodded his head. “Anything, Brock.”

            Brock cracked a grin. “Good. Pack a bag of clothes and stuff. You’re coming with me. ROAD TRIP!”

            Ash smiled at his friend and went into his bedroom. A few minutes later, he was ready, a duffel bag filled with clothes and gear and he had his official league cap. Grabbing a leather jacket from the nearby coat-rack, he put it on.

            “Alright, let’s go,” he said, a glimmer of his old self appearing.

            They left the apartment and went to Brock’s station wagon that was parked in the apartment garage.

            “Where are we headed?” Ash asked, although he knew the answer.

            “Cerulean. It’s been a long time since we saw Misty, huh?” Brock answered as they put their stuff in the back.

            Ash had a bit of a smile on his face, and Brock was relieved. Maybe this trip would be the thing to get Ash’s mind off of Duplica.

 

 

Had you going there, didn’t I? Well, I’m going to leave it open, just in case I ever get back to it. Well people you know the drill: All comments, suggestions and overall flattery to Shagti2@aol.com and all flames and general questions of my sanity to Shoveitupyour@ss.com! G’night, Gracie!