Ash didn’t even bother to retrieve his Pokémon. The fresh new wave of tears spilled from his eyes rapidly, and he couldn’t wait to get into his house. He ran by Pikachu in a blur, who had been resting calmly beside Squirtle. Immediately aware of Ash’s restored depression and Misty and Brock running swiftly to catch up with him, Pikachu darted off after Ash, as well.

Blasting through his back door, Ash bolted through the house at full speed, and stopped abruptly in his living room, where he crashed on the couch in a huff. He leaned his head forward and buried it in his hands, furiously wiping away the tears. He breathed in and out heavily, clenching his fingers and toes to stop his raging anger.

"That’s it!" he mumbled out loud, stamping his feet on the ground. "I will never, ever talk to him ever again! Oh God, I hate him! He’s dead to me . . ."

At that he trailed off, and began to cry again. Not a few seconds later, he could hear the callings of his friends and Pikachu, but he kept his head down and in his hands.

They came in the room huffing and puffing. Brock and Misty instantly sat down on the couch next to Ash on either sides, and did their best to comfort him. For a moment neither of them uttered a word, as Brock rubbed Ash’s back softly and Misty rubbed his leg, both looking at him with deep and utter concern.

"Ash," Misty said gently and affectionately, moving her hand up from his leg to his arm. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Ash shook his head, which still remained dejectedly in his hands. Looking at him wallow depressively, Misty’s sudden urge to cry overcame her, and tears began to drip from her eyes. At that second, she felt so horribly for Ash that she didn’t know what to do except cry.

Poor, poor Ash, Misty thought as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her head on Ash’s shoulder to hide the tears from Brock, who sat in silence recalling the incredulous event that had just taken place.

Ash felt Misty’s hug, and he raised his head slowly to look at her. When Misty felt him move, she lifted her head also, and their wet, red eyes met. Seeing his grievous face, Misty seriously felt like murdering Gary, hurt him for doing this to Ash.

Ash, on the other hand, was shocked, and he stared profoundly into Misty’s eyes. "Misty?" he asked, his eyes wincing in tears.

"Yeah?" Misty replied with a small smile.

"Why -- why are you crying?" he asked.

Misty’s heart melted when he said this, and this only made her tears spill more easily. Without any reluctance, she reached up and wiped the new tears off of Ash’s already wet and sticky cheeks, smiling meekly as she did it.

"Because I feel so bad for you, Ash," she answered finally, sniffling.

"Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this?" He broke down again, and Misty gripped him in a tight hug. Ash hugged back, squeezing his arms forcefully around her waist.

"You didn’t do anything, Ash," Misty cried, rocking him softly.

"None of this is your fault," Brock said, fighting his eyes from watering. He looked down sadly at the floor. "It’ll be all right, though. I know."

"We’ll get you through this, Ash," Misty promised, smiling hopefully to Brock. "We’re here for you. Just remember that."

Ash pulled back mildly from the hug, and wiped his eyes. He sat for a moment looking across the room, and Misty and Brock stared at him attentively and worriedly, wondering what he was going to say or do.

Suddenly, he looked at them, and a small, reassuring smile came to his lips. "Thanks, you guys," he said, and they smiled back happily at him. "I -- I have to pull myself together, I know. I can’t get upset over what Gary said, anyway."

Ash got up and paused, looking around. "Believe me, I don’t plan on it. C’mon. Let’s get the Pokémon in," he said quietly, and the three headed outside to retrieve them.

Ash still couldn’t handle what was happening. The whole rest of the day seemed to speed by for him. After they had recalled their Pokémon, Brock had made a big lunch for them of hamburgers, which Ash didn’t have an appetite for, but ate anyway. He didn’t even taste the food as it went down, and remained silent while Misty and Brock chatted softly, various times trying to get Ash to talk, too. But all he could do was think of how everything had suddenly taken a horrible turn in only the course of but a few hours, and he felt sick over it.

He still didn’t want to believe it, either. He wanted it to be a dream, but when he reminded himself over and over again that it wasn’t, it depressed him more. After lunch, he told Misty and Brock that he wanted to take a nap for a while, and they graciously allowed him. Ash figured sleep would get the day over faster, hoping that maybe everything would go away. Ash let Pikachu accompany him, and together they napped well into the evening. The sleep came easily to Ash, and he found a new comfort in it.

Ash didn’t realize how long he had slept, but when he awoke, he heard his mom’s voice downstairs, and he scowled. He was awake now, and dinner would be soon, and he would have to come down. He still didn’t feel like seeing her. Even though she had apologized several times, it didn’t seem to satisfy him. As he lay awake in bed, he listened to the faint voices coming from downstairs, and the more Ash heard Delia’s voice, the more he wanted to go down to her. Despite how mad at her he was and hated to admit it, he wanted to make good with her, and it urged him.

"Pikachu, come on," Ash said, rubbing Pikachu’s fur. The Pokémon looked up sleepily at him. "Let’s go down now."

The two made their way slowly down the steps, and Ash stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Jay’s voice from in the kitchen. Ash moaned to himself, wondering whether or not he could stand to see his two parents together. He wondered if Jay was aware that he knew, but at that point he no longer cared -- he was hungry, and was sick and tired of running from the situation.

As he made his way to the kitchen, he decided that he didn’t want to talk to either one of them, but it would be hard. His dad especially, which earlier on Ash had a mile-long lists of things to talk to him about. Last night’s dinner wasn’t enough, and Ash had been looking forward to spending that night with Jay.

"Hey, Ash!" Misty said cheerfully to him as he entered. "You’re up!"

Ash smiled a little as he examined the scene. His mom was standing by the stove, his dad right beside her, leaning on the counter. Misty and Brock were seated comfortably at the table.

Misty had been the first to notice Ash, but as soon as she announced his presence, the whole room turned to him.

"Hey, Ash!" Jay shouted with a grin, shuffling himself on his feet. "Sleep good, buddy?"

Ash nodded drowsily, and sauntered over to the table.

Despite the incident that morning, Delia smiled warmly at Ash. "Hi sweetie," she said. "Ya up for some steak tonight?"

Ash plopped down into his chair and looked at Delia incoherently. "Sure," he replied, then turned to Misty and Brock.

That was not the answer Delia had been hoping for. Usually, Ash jumped for joy at the sound of steak, and his apathetic reaction had just confirmed that he was still mad at her. She looked back at the stove, and sighed sadly. Jay noticed this and nudged her, smiling reassuringly at her. She made a slight, saddened smile in return. But that wasn’t enough, though.

At least Jay understood now. When he had returned from work in Viridian City, she had just arrived home as well. When he noticed how down she was, she told him that Ash had heard them last night, and his face fell soon afterward. She recalled her fight with Ash that morning, and how upset he was. Jay told her to not worry, but that didn’t convince Delia much. She wouldn’t be until she could talk to her son again, and had him smile sincerely and lovingly back at her.

Feeling the tension between Ash and Delia, Jay tried to lighten the mood, and walked over briskly to the three kids and plopped down in the seat beside Ash. Ash didn’t look at him, and concentrated his attention on his hands on the table.

"Misty and Brock were telling me that you had your Pokémon out before," Jay said. "How are they all? Good, I hope."

"They’re okay," Ash dully replied, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table.

Jay nodded. "Well, good."

Brock perked up suddenly, sensing the cold shoulder that Ash was calmly displaying towards his parents. He and Misty had expected this somewhat, and they decided to try to make it better as best as they could. While talking with his parents before Ash had come down, neither he nor Misty had mentioned anything of Gary, and just that they’d had a fun afternoon romping with the Pokémon. They saw Delia’s face light up when they were recounted the fun they had, knowing she felt better to know that Ash hadn’t locked himself in his room all day.

"Hey, guess what Ash!" Brock chimed. "Your dad said that tomorrow he’ll show us all his Pokémon!"

"Isn’t that great?" Misty added.

Ash shrugged. "I guess so."

"Don’t you want to know what he’s got?" Misty asked, realizing that not even the subject of Pokémon was lightening Ash’s mood.

"I know what he’s got," Ash replied coldly.

He did know, technically, but the only ones that came to his mind were the ones he had when Ash was eight and younger, and even then they were mostly just pets. Jay had battled Pokémon since he was young, but stopped doing it shortly after Ash was born and when he became serious with his job. Even though he didn’t battle as much, he kept the Pokémon, the first ones Ash was really introduced to in his life. He didn’t have that many; he was more into battling than capturing, and all but one of his Pokémon, a Nidoran, was given to him.

"Well, you know, I might have gotten more," Jay said with a mysterious grin on his face. "It’s been a while."

"That it certainly has," Ash responded immediately and forcefully, causing Delia’s head to raise.

Jay took a deep and thoughtful breath. "You know what I would like, Ash? I want to have a battle with you tomorrow. Wouldn’t that be fun? Hmm?" He nudged Ash’s shoulder playfully, but Ash looked into his face downheartedly.

"Maybe some other time," he replied.

"Ash!" Misty said, surprised. "C’mon! Snap out of this!"

Jay held her hand up to her. "It’s okay, Misty," he said calmly, then turned back to Ash. "If he doesn’t want to battle me, that’s okay. And if he doesn’t want to see my Feraligatr, that’s okay, too."

At the sound of the evolved Pokémon, Ash’s ears twitched. He craved to see what a Totodile eventually became, but he fought his urge to get excited nevertheless. He had to fight it, he wasn’t going to succumb to his dad’s reverse psychology. Ash was mad at them, after all . . . wasn’t he?

Brock’s eyes widened. "You got a Feraligatr?" he cried excitedly. "Cool! Hey Ash, ya hear that? Or are you deaf or something?"

"I heard it fine," Ash replied. He suddenly looked up at all of them. "Look, I’m just not in the mood to talk Pokémon right now, okay? I told you, maybe later."

"But Ash, you’re never not in the mood!" Misty objected. "Come on, cheer up, will ya?"

Absolute quiet followed that, and Jay stared sadly at his son. Although he knew why Ash was upset like this and why he was trying his best to ignore him, he couldn’t stand for it. He looked back at Delia, who had watched the whole scene in silence, and she frowned dejectedly.

"Supper’s ready," she mumbled despondently, and Jay, Misty, and Brock got up to set the table.

Though he didn’t want to do it, Ash got up and helped them set the table. He didn’t feel like getting scolded by his mom for not being useful -- he had enough to worry about. She probably wouldn’t have bothered, but Ash also felt that it wasn’t fair to make Misty and Brock do all the work. He wasn’t mad at them.

Ash kept the hostile cold shoulder through the whole dinner, the only time he talked or smiled was when he was addressed to by Misty or Brock. His parents eventually gave up trying to talk to him, and he didn’t even move a muscle when Delia revealed that she had made a cheesecake for desert, which on normal circumstances Ash would have drooled over.

Ash was more than relieved that the dinner was over -- and so did everyone else, it seemed. As soon as the dishes were cleared, Ash took off for upstairs, his friends following close behind. Although Misty and Brock tried to make Ash more talkative during dinner, their moods immediately changed when they were separate from Jay and Delia.

"Ash, how long are you going to keep this up?" Misty asked, giving him a frustrated look.

Ash shrugged. He really didn’t know himself, but he decided to act like he did for the time being. Being a depressed mood for the day had bothered him, and even though he didn’t show it, he wanted to do something fun. Now that the uncomfortably awkward dinner had come to an end, he wanted nothing more than to have fun with Misty and Brock like he had that afternoon.

Relaxing in Ash’s room was something they all needed. It seemed that as soon as Ash entered the room, he became a whole new person. Suddenly, he perked up, turned his music on, and started chatting with Misty and Brock about nothing in particular. After some funny incidences, the three found themselves playing a rather peculiar game involving a Hawaiian lei and Ash’s ceiling fan. Misty had just discovered the lei stuffed in Ash’s closet, and when tossing up at the fan, Brock unintentionally caught it around his neck, hence starting a game that occupied them for over an hour.

Laughing hysterically, Misty fell to the floor with the lei around her neck. "Finally!" she screamed in victory. By this time, the lei was practically in tatters from being thrown onto the fan too much, but Misty had caught it for the first time. She got up and pulled the lei off, fanning herself.

"Ash, it’s as hot as hell in here!" she exclaimed.

"Well, what else do you expect me to do?" Ash laughed. "Both the windows are already open!"

"Go get some drinks for us," Brock suggested, going over to the radio and changing the song.

"Why don’t you get them?" Ash asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"Because we’re the guests!" Misty giggled, leaning against the open window.

Ash sighed, and headed out the door and down the stairs. He was still smiling from the excitement as his feet touched the landing in a thud. Almost in a instant, he noticed his parents sitting at the table, a small stack of papers scattered over the table in front of them.

Why did I come down here? How did I agree to this?

Making his way noisily to the kitchen, Jay and Delia’s heads raised. Ash made a small wave to them and walked to the fridge, where he pulled out a bottle of soda, soon followed by three large cups.

"Sounds like you’re having fun up there," Jay said.

"Yeah, we are," Ash replied, shuffling the soda and cups in his hands. "Getting a little hot, though."

Delia smiled gently at him and nodded. "Just don’t spill any on the rug, okay?"

"Sure thing, Mom," Ash assured, and turned to go upstairs. Suddenly he froze, and looked back at his parents. They had returned to whatever they had been doing, and Ash’s eyebrows rose in curiosity. He tried his best to listen to what they were saying, but they were whispering quite softly and their eyes were glued conscientiously to the papers in front of them. Ash mentally shrugged it off and continued his trip upstairs, although deep down he felt a bad vibe from it.

Misty and Brock eagerly quaffed down the sweet liquid, as did Ash, displaying his smile happily, though the thoughts of his parents seeped into his mind again. What were they doing down there anyway?

By ten, they all seemed exhausted, and it was Brock who admitted first that he wanted to hit the sack. Though all hyper and sugared-up from the soda, Ash and Misty agreed that it had been a long day.

Ash never went down to say good-night to his parents. He didn’t feel like it, and the only time he left his room after that was to change in the bathroom. When he returned, Misty was already in her pajamas.

"Want my bed again?" Ash offered, gesturing towards it.

Misty smiled and shrugged. "Well, Togepi’s already asleep in it . . ."

Ash smiled back and waved his hand. "Go to sleep, Misty," he said, plopping onto the rollaway.

Misty smiled gently and climbed into his, pulling the covers up to her chin and snuggling in. She wanted to say good-night to Jay and Delia, but she figured that if Ash wasn’t going to do it, it didn’t matter. Sometimes Delia came up to say good-night, but she never did that night. The tension between her and Ash appeared to scare her away.

After about an hour of giggling and saying good-night numerous times, the three kids drifted off into sleep. For a good while now Ash had felt happy, and sleep came easily. He dreamt pleasantly for as long as he was sleeping, until he awakened a few hours later. Despite all the soda he had engulfed hours ago, his throat was slightly parched and he craved some iced tea.

At first, Ash tried to ignore it. His eyes drooped sleepily, and he was too tired to even move his legs. But his dry throat tormented him, and he finally got up to quench the sudden thirst that had befallen him. It was near midnight, and the quietness of the house allowed Ash to make the obvious assumption that everyone was asleep. He drudged on tiredly down the stairs, holding his hands on tightly to the banisters as he made his way through the darkness, the small night lights at the top and bottom of the stairs lighting his way.

Upon reaching the bottom, his eyes caught sight of a large lump on the couch, and as soon as his eyes adjusted to the pitch blackness, he realized that it was his sleeping father crashed out on it. The sight suddenly made Ash shudder, bringing back unwanted memories of what it had been like before Jay had left. Delia had practically placed barbed-wire outside their bedroom, and Jay had been confined to the couch for quite a while.

Looking away and feeling it was the best thing to do, Ash made his way into the kitchen. He flipped on the light above the sink, illuminating the room enough for him to get his drink but not to wake his dad. Ash seated himself at the table after pouring his drink, and rested his head drowsily in his hands. Not a second later did he notice the small, neat pile of papers that sat directly in front of him. His curiosity sparking again, Ash reached out and grabbed the papers in his hands.

The dim light was making it hard to read it, so he brought the papers over to the sink, where he began to scrutinize them. Immediately, something told him that these were what his parents were going over, and the information on the top page correctly affirmed that. He clutched them tightly in his hands and he ground his teeth in disbelief as he read paragraph after paragraph of divorce testimonies, his parents’ signatures dotted in various sections.

At each new paragraph, Ash clenched his teeth harder, shooting pain throughout his mouth. His head began to throb and his breathing increased heavily. No, not this. This is not what he needed to see right now. How come it just wouldn’t leave him alone?

Anger build up steadily within him, and the papers began to crumple softly in his clamped fists. What he saw before him disgusted him to the full extent, almost like it was an illusion, a trick to his eyes. Here was the whole base of his problems, and he was grasping it in his hands. He felt in control suddenly, but that didn’t control his anger. Something within him snapped, and with a single huff of wrath and frustration, Ash gripped the papers in his hands tightly and pulled in two different directions, tearing the divorce papers in two, clean shreds.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .