#plus dolores' parents are pretty much all over each other. she knows a good man and what a good relationship looks like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dogbearinggifts · 4 years

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I saw you mention in an ask that Diego spotted the abuse they underwent first. In what order and how do you think each of the kids came to the realization of what their dad put them through? They all obviously are still reeling from everything years later and it was EXTRA apparent during the light supper.

The light supper did many things, but the one thing it did most of all was show just how deeply he damaged these kids. Here they are in their thirties, meeting with a man who doesn’t know them yet—and even though they’re all completely on edge, guards up, expecting the worst, they’re still blindsided by how low he stoops just to gain a slight edge.

But I digress. Here’s how I think each one of them came to realize Reginald was abusive, and the order in which I think they realized it. This is mostly just speculation on my part, so I could be wrong, but I like to think it’s an educated guess.

Diego: Watching his dad give Luther nothing but praise while he received nothing but criticism fostered a good deal of resentment in him, but I think it also led him to see that something was very wrong much sooner than some of his other siblings. See, the torture they endured seems to have happened behind closed doors—Vanya losing her powers, Klaus being locked in the mausoleum, whatever awful things he did to Allison, Ben and Five in the guise of making them stronger—but the verbal abuse Diego went through happened out in the open. It had to. Reginald wanted to goad Diego into pushing his own limits to beat Luther at a game neither of them could win. To do that, he needed make them both aware that there was a competition, that Luther was winning and Diego was losing, and that all of the other siblings knew the score. Being locked in that dynamic meant Diego was constantly, painfully aware that no one else had to deal with Reginald’s constant nitpicking—but also that no one else was lavished with praise the way Luther was. Even to a sheltered kid who’s allowed few friends outside the family and limited freedom to leave the grounds, that treatment is visibly wrong. Diego might not have been able to call it abuse as a teen, but I think seeing the blatant discrepancies between how he and his siblings were treated—plus his legendary stubbornness—kept him from internalizing it for too long. When Reginald used Ben’s funeral to shame them all, that was probably the moment Diego began seeing him not as a bad parent, but as a monster he needed to escape.

Vanya: Like Diego, she was treated differently from her siblings. Unlike Diego, I do think she internalized it to a degree. We see her taking up the violin in an attempt to impress her dad (“I’m going to be extraordinary”) and her visible dismay when Reginald says “I’m afraid there’s nothing special about you.” Even as an adult, after years on her own, she sends Reginald a copy of her autobiography. It’s possible this was an attempt to get him to see things from her perspective, but it’s equally possible she sent it to him as a means of saying “Look, Dad, I wrote a book. I got it published. It’s on the bestseller list. Be impressed, you asshole.” Part of her wanted to impress him, and part of her believed that if she just tried a little harder, she could do it. Although she recognized that her treatment was unfair sometime in or prior to her teen years (we see her protesting Reginald’s refusal to let her be in the family photo) the part of her that wanted to earn his favor probably kept her from fully embracing the idea that she was not responsible for how she was treated. That said, I do think she’d realized Reginald was the problem by the time she moved out, and she probably began calling him abusive once she either read up on abusive relationships or learned about them from her therapist. Learning that there was a word for what she endured, and that no decent person considers it okay, was probably strangely comforting and empowering all at once.

Klaus and Ben: After Ben’s death, they almost certainly began talking more. Ben would’ve had to witness Klaus’ burgeoning addiction spiral out of control, and he wouldn’t have let it happen in silence. Maybe his resentment festered shortly after his death; maybe it came years later. Whatever the case, I think that when Ben began arguing with Klaus over his drug habit, Klaus pushed back—and eventually, this pushback led to him spilling details of what led him down that road. “He locked me in a fucking mausoleum when I was just a kid” probably stunned Ben into silence for a few hours at least—and also reminded him of the things Reginald forced him to do while he was alive. Maybe they started trading stories to empathize with each other; maybe they traded them to one-up each other. Whatever the case, I think that as they learned they’d both been effectively tortured by their own father, they both began to realize how twisted their childhoods had been—and that they were not to blame for it.

Allison: While her reactions during the light supper prove Reginald terrorized her as much as he did the others, we also know she used her power to get whatever she wanted. Parental abuse is damaging to everyone, no matter who you are; but abuse from a parent you can manipulate is a little easier to endure, and it’s much harder to recognize that something is wrong when you can buy yourself a respite—or at least a few material things to ease the pain. She had an advantage the others didn’t, and I think this advantage kept her in denial, believing Reginald might not be so bad after all, if he gave her all those nice things and didn’t complain, until Ben’s funeral. Watching Reginald use her brother’s death as an opportunity to berate and shame them for something she knows wasn’t their fault makes her angry and hurt enough to stand up to him, despite the derision this earns her. I think that day affected her pretty deeply—maybe even more deeply than her siblings. Ben’s funeral was probably the day she realized there was nothing redeemable in her dad after all and that she had to get away for her own safety. Once she was out on her own, I think she sought out books on bad parents—starting with survivor memoirs, empathizing with the narrators more strongly than she expected, then branching out into self-help. She probably read the signs and checklists over and over, just to make absolutely certain her experiences counted as abuse and she wasn’t just being dramatic and ungrateful.

Five: If he hadn’t gotten stuck in the apocalypse, I think he might have been one of the first to realize Reginald was abusive. But because he spent the majority of his life in a world much harsher than the Academy (which isn't to say the Academy wasn’t harsh, but no one had to eat cockroaches to survive it) his memories probably took on a rosier hue. A place with a solid roof over his head, where he was guaranteed clean clothes, companionship, and never had to wonder where his next meal was coming from—after starving out in the open and talking to a mannequin, Five probably thought more than once that he’d never argue with Reginald again if it only meant a return to those comforts he once took for granted. This longing, mixed with self-loathing over his stupidity at getting stuck, probably led to some self-blame over how Reginald treated him, if his “I was too hard on you” to Reginald during the light supper is any indication. He realized Reginald was abusive at some point (probably after some heated arguments with Dolores) but I think he’s also gotten it into his head that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed at the time—not as bad as growing up in the apocalypse, at any rate.

Luther: Not only did he stay in the Academy well into his twenties, but he put his own safety on the line, nearly died in service to Reginald’s goal—a goal he’d fooled himself into thinking was his own—and when the man who endangered him, mutilated him, and shunned him exiled him to a hunk of rock floating in space, he still blamed himself. While he took a major step forward in the latter half of S1, placing the blame for his pointless Moon mission on Reginald (where it belongs), I think his jump into the sixties caused him to regress a bit. I don’t think he forgot what Reginald did to him, but I do think he assumed that Reginald might be kinder in his younger years. Maybe he thought parenthood made him less patient or—more tragically—that something he and his siblings did turned him into the kind of man who would shame his surviving children at their brother’s funeral. I think he believed that if he could just talk to his dad before all of that happened, he’d be welcomed with surprise and joy, pulled into a hug and asked about all he’d accomplished. While Reginald’s rejection shattered him, I think it also, in a sad and twisted way, freed him. Luther learned, once and for all, that Reginald simply hated children. Reginald’s callousness and outright cruelty wasn’t due to anything he did—it was the result of taking on parenthood out of a sense of obligation, resenting it every step of the way, and lacking the emotional maturity to avoid taking it out on kids whose only crime was dependency on him. The fact Luther didn’t believe it until he heard it from the man himself speaks volumes about the control Reginald still had over him, even after his lies were laid bare.

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letswritefanfiction · 5 years

Text

Pokémon Alphabet Challenge: W is for Woe

Can also be read on ffnet here.

The first time she’d ever had her heart broken was when her parents died, she supposed. But she’d been four and hardly remembered it. Hardly remembered them. Her heart must have fully healed by now. No scars to show that she’d even been hurt before.

Ready to be broken again for the first time.

Misty had certain expectations about heartbreak. She thought that when it happened again, it would have been because she’d taken a lover who had done her wrong, leading to a painful and passionate fight, leaving her weeping into her hands. Not that that’s what she wanted to happen, but it seemed like that’s how things would go in a film noir, and there was something masochistically appealing about having a life that dramatic.

The thoughts of betrayal certainly weren’t happy but, if nothing else, they were clean cut. If she caught a boyfriend going after one of her sisters or were secret members of the mafia, then the dramatic breakup would come naturally. And though she’d be heartbroken, she’d know that she did the right thing.

Along with the heartbreak would come the daily ice cream binges, crying and yelling at rom-coms, and tearful conversations with her gal pals. Well, she’d never really had gal pals, but she supposed her sisters might do if it came to that.

In all, she had everything planned out. She could see it coming in the distant future and was already fortifying herself against it.

So when it came earlier than expected with none of the predicted circumstances, Misty wasn’t sure quite what to do.

It was, though. Heartbreak. Dolor. Woe. She felt the crack splintering down her perfectly mended heart and there was nothing she could do but run.

She wasn’t a scorned lover, she wasn’t even a teenage girlfriend. She was just a…friend. And, to be honest, she wasn’t even quite sure which part of it was breaking her heart. The heartlessness of her sisters? Leaving Ash and Brock? The way Ash seemed not to care?

To be fair, it was probably all of it. And the more she thought about it, the more she saw the writing on the wall.

Ash and Brock didn’t keep in touch. Sure, Misty rarely called home, but she had a…challenging relationship with her sisters. As was proven all over again today. But Ash loved his mom. And Brock was basically a second father to his siblings. But the two of them rarely made contact back home. And the three of them never reached out to the friends they’d met on their journey. When was the last time they’d talked to Tracey? Misty didn’t know.

This was the end. And that’s the thought took the crack burgeoning across her heart and split it into pieces.

She dated. She even started having relationships. Part of it was at her sisters’ behest; they’d enjoyed dating so much at her age and they’d hate for her to miss the opportunity. Plus, apparently, she had some sort of ‘reputation’ or ‘tradition’ to keep up. Frankly, she thought that last part was BS, but, really, she didn’t want to be alone, so she went along with it.

And, really, part of it was fun. It was nice to be wanted, to be sought after. She enjoyed being wined and dined—the wine replaced with ice water, of course—and having some element of romance in her life. Misty considered herself an independent woman, and had all the evidence in the world to prove it: she could travel in the wilderness, she’d run a Gym by herself and built up its reputation from next to nothing, and could expertly raise Pokémon, that was, other living beings, from infancy. She could survive. But she thrived with companionship. There was something about always having Ash and Brock or Tracey sleeping beside her or across the room, people to shoot the breeze or share companionable silence with. She wanted to share her time with people.

But every time she broke up with someone or they dumped her, she bounced back surprisingly fast. There was no throwing chocolates at the television or dramatic haircuts or life-changing hiking trips. She would simply move on with an unmoving amount of heartbreak. And that was how she knew that those relationships had barely scratched the surface of what she was searching for.

Really, she was comparing everyone, measuring them against the yardstick that was Ash Ketchum. But since she’d never really known what had caused her to like him so much, she had no idea where these other boys were failing. They weren’t reckless enough? Doltish enough? Utterly immature enough?

Slowly, the realization dawned on her. She wasn’t going to give anyone a fair shot until she went after Ash.

And when she thought about it even more, she noted that, as it was, they were barely friends. Well, they were best friends. But best friends who didn’t call and didn’t write and didn’t see each other for months if not years at a time.

To tell the truth, she could convince herself that there wasn’t much to lose.

She didn’t know where he was. A quick call to his mother—yes, she kept in better contact with his mother than with him—told her that she, nor Professor Oak, quite knew either. Well, at least she knew she was right about him not keeping in good contact with them either. Actually, she got a perverse sense of joy in the reminder that, in fact, it was not just her being ghosted.

But still, the conversation left her with progress.

Professor Oak had last received a Pokémon from Ash a number of weeks ago. Yes, as good of a Trainer as he was, natural talent and all that, he’d never been good at catching that many Pokémon. Not that she was one to talk, but still. Even without a specialty, he never seemed to send all that many Pokémon back to the lab. But it still gave her a starting place. The boy could go far in just a few weeks, but it was better than nothing.

Fortunately, the internet was a thing.

With the Professor’s help, she almost definitely had him nailed down to a region, and it was fair to assume that he was going from town to town challenging Gyms. That didn’t by any means limit the selection of locations in the regions, but it gave solid markers of where he probably either already had been or was going to go. As a Gym Leader herself, she knew that you didn’t remember every challenger who walked into your Gym, but as his prior traveling companion, she knew that people had a tendency to remember Ash Ketchum. She’d ask around.

But first was the matter of getting there.

The one thing on her side was that if there was anything that would get the Waterflower sisters back in the Gym, it was the prospect of their baby sister going on a man-getting mission. They were back training Pokémon in an hour.

That was pretty much the only loose end. She couldn’t take too many Pokémon with her, because the Gym needed most of them, but she did grab Psyduck and Gyarados. Sure, Gyarados had originally belonged to her sisters, but she didn’t think that they would really be able to handle him in a Gym Battle.

Besides, she was hoping to catch new Pokémon along the way. It had been years since she’d really gotten to spend time outside of Kanto, and the truth was, this mission wasn’t just one born of practically stalking her ex slash current best friend slash crush.

It was about taking some God damn control back.

She was going to find her man and see if he liked her too. But if not, then it wouldn’t have been a trip for nothing. In all likelyhood, she’d be stuck in the region for a time before she found him, and she was going to make the best of it. She was going to train, meet new people, and see, if not catch, some new Pokémon.

Just because she wanted a man didn’t mean that she needed one.

Soon enough, with little more planning than her runaway act at age ten, she found herself in an unknown region, searching for the boy she’d fallen for years ago and never gotten over. She only had half an idea as to how to find him, but she hoped that would be part of the fun. Just like Ash with his ever-present goal of challenging the Pokémon League often being overshadowed by whatever hijinks the three of them would find themselves in that day. Ultimately, those were some of her favorite memories, even more so than watching him win a Gym match or progress to the next round of a League.

And she did have fun. She’d promised herself she would and dammit, she made sure in those first few weeks to try and accomplish all the things she’d always wished she’d had time to do at the Gym. She fished—didn’t manage to catch any new Pokémon yet, but she was patient. When it came to fishing, at least—she ate at cafes, she window-shopped; she made sure to enjoy the journey.

She just didn’t expect that it would get lonely so quickly.

Maybe part of the reason she’d always been so fond of Ash was that aside from being her friend and crush, he was her company. He, Brock, Tracey, Pikachu, and Togepi had been a source of energy and comfort for her, even when no words were being exchanged. And now she was traversing a region alone, and it was, well, lonely. Once upon a time, it had been her plan to travel Kanto alone, but that hadn’t been realized for very long at all. And now that she’d lived the alternative, this way was oddly lacking.

So she pulled an Ash and began keeping Psyduck out of her PokéBall.

Maybe Psyduck wasn’t her first choice for a companion, but he fared well on land and his helplessness made her feel needed. He was a big baby, just like Togepi.

It was when she was having a random Battle with another Trainer that the game changed for her. Misty told the girl that she wanted to be a Water Pokémon Master, to which the girl responded, “What’s that?”

Misty was gobsmacked. No one had ever asked her that before. Hell, she didn’t think she’d ever heard someone ask Ash that before, and Gods knew he’d certainly spouted the phrase enough times to warrant it. She was surprised, looking back on it, that the conversation had never come up between the two of them. “Hey, Ash, so what does Pokémon Master mean to you exactly?” “Huh, I guess I don’t quite know, Misty. What does it mean to you?” “Uh, mastery of Pokémon?”

She didn’t know. Well, abstractly she did. She felt like she did. But to put it into concrete words for a total stranger who obviously didn’t have any idea…

“I, well, it’s like I’m a Water Pokémon specialist.” Misty blushed a little, wishing the words would come to her. “If you couldn’t tell. And I want to know everything there is to know about Water Pokémon and be, like,” she cringed, cursing herself and the time she’d spent around her sisters, “an expert on them. While also being an expert at using them in Battle.”

“Oh, so like a Gym Leader or something?”

Maybe it should have felt like a compliment. Instead, it just felt like Misty had choked on a rather large wad of gum, and she couldn’t help but sputter a bit. “N-No! Not like a Gym Leader! That’s, well, I mean, it’s good, but it’s just not even close!”

The girl’s brows furrowed, obviously still not getting it. “An Elite then?”

Elites were seen as experts in their fields. Misty knew enough about them—and had idolized Prima long enough—to know where they stood. They were the best of the best.

“No…I mean, that’s better, obviously, but still.” She shook her head, already running out of the few words she’d had.

The other girl seemed a little frustrated, sighing before asking, “Do you have to be the Champion?”

Well, that was what Ash was always going for. His cycle was travel to a new region, challenge all the Gyms, participate in the League, rinse and repeat. But he’d even won a League and it hadn’t slowed him down. Even with all the bravado he’d had back then, Misty knew that he hadn’t remotely considered himself a Master. Would she consider Drake a Master? Gods, she didn’t know.

“It’s not—It’s not about having a position or a title,” Misty tried to explain rubbing her eyes and forehead roughly. “Because, like, ugh, it’s—you can never learn everything, right? I want to know everything there is to know about Water Pokémon, but that’s simply not possible. Even if you combined all the knowledge of all the experts in the world right now, you wouldn’t even be scratching the surface, right? So it’s an abstract thing. An intangible, indescribable, um, conceptual…thing.”

The girl blinked at Misty for a second, but her expression became clearer than Misty had seen it yet. Then she said, “Oh. So it’s unattainable. It’s just there for you to, you know, always be stretching yourself. But it’s not real.”

Misty could have gaped at the girl. Unattainable? Not real? Her whole life’s work, Ash’s life’s work was just…an illusion?

Misty smiled, albeit tighter than could possibly seem normal or natural and replied, “Yep, basically,” through gritted teeth.

“Well, that’s really nice.” The girl smiled. “I hope you make good progress towards it.”

“Me too,” Misty said, though her thoughts were now going a mile a minute. “And, uh, you as well. In your goals.”

“Thanks!” the girls said, seemingly impervious to the sheer amount of awkward Misty threw her way. “Bye, now!”

The girl flounced off and Misty was left with the panic-inducing feeling of, well, what now?

The ‘what now’ was the same as before. She’d had a plan, godammit, and at the moment it was about all she had. So she would keep towards her apparently arbitrary goal of ‘Master’ and try and find Ash while doing it.

It was a good thing she hadn’t let it slip to any random travelers that she was on a trip to find her crush, or that probably would have been torn to pieces as well.

Still. She caught new Pokémon that she was excited to get to know. Not to mention that practically and monetarily speaking, they would be great new attractions at the Gym. Her sisters would be excited about that much. She asked around about Water experts in the region and made efforts to meet with those she could and exchange ideas and practices regarding their Pokémon and theories on what everyone’s next step was. She left many of these meetings with people saying they’d love to visit her Gym whenever she made it back to Kanto. Of course, she never had a good estimate on when that would be.

Her life had been a thing of routine for so long now that it was difficult to fathom that she didn’t know if she’d be back at the Gym next month or even next year. It almost felt like she was in some kind of suspended animation, like her life was barely moving until she got back to the Gym where calendar days were important and her tasks were done like clockwork. Really, it was probably more the opposite—this was more living than she’d done in years.

Truthfully, though, she couldn’t imagine a scenario through which she wouldn’t be back at the Gym in more than a year. If it took her a year and still couldn’t find Ash, then it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe save it for the next existential crisis, assuming she hadn’t moved on by then.

Fortunately, it did not take more than a year to find Ash.

She’d almost missed him. Whilst traveling along a Trainer path, she saw sparks of electricity in the distance. Her first instinct was to think nothing of it. It was probably just two Trainers having a Battle. Then she stopped short.

Or it was Ash and Pikachu doing…well, anything that one might expect the two of them to get up to.

Before she knew it, she was running.

It was one of those moments where your heart is hoping for something so dearly, but your brain is telling you that there’s no chance. No chance in hell. A chance so negligible that you might as well not hope at all. But you can’t help it. And when you finally see it, you think surely it can’t be real.

But there he was. Him and Pikachu, and Team Rocket flying through the air, the smell of burnt hair still crisp in the forest air. He had a different outfit, a different hat, and she spotted some people behind him that were probably his newest travel companions, but she was still transported back years ago, to when this was her everyday. She smiled.

Pikachu noticed her first. His head whipped around as though he’d caught her scent, and his eyes lit up. He leapt off of Ash’s shoulder with such strength that Ash was pushed forward, stumbling a little before looking back at Pikachu in confusion. For a moment. Then he was grinning so hard Misty thought his face might split open.

“Misty!” he shouted, immediately racing Pikachu to see who would get to her first.

Pikachu won, of course, but he’d had a head start—as Ash would be quick to point out—and leapt into Misty’s arms. He was an easy catch and Misty was immediately taken by how his fur felt exactly the same. But was he bigger? He looked bigger. She knew that he probably wasn’t—he’d already been full-grown by the time she’d met him—but he looked different to her. Exactly the same, but different. She supposed that was the strangeness of spending so much time apart.

Ash, on the other hand, definitely looked different. This was the first time she was seeing him at what she would guess was full-grown for him. He was a little taller than her now, which she became acutely aware of when he rushed over and hugged her.

“Hey, Ash!” she managed, her voice high-pitched and breathless as his arms wrapped around her.

This wasn’t what they did. They didn’t hug. They’d linked arms, spun each other around in celebration, even held hands—but they didn’t hug. She knew this because she’d always wanted it. It was amazing, the things you imagined would change your world when you had a girlhood crush. A hug would have meant everything to her. Now, older and more confident, she’d stalked him around the world. And a hug was just the beginning.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyes glimmering when he finally—much too soon—pulled back.

Now, Misty was a fan of honesty. Helpful but kind honesty with young Gym challengers, snappish honesty with her sisters, and, well, somewhat scathing honesty to Ash. But even though she wanted to blurt out the truth—before she lost her nerve—she knew now wasn’t the moment. Now wasn’t going to give her that best shot that she’d earned by being patient for this long. She wasn’t going to lose it at the end.

She’d left on a whim. But as she’d spent these last months journeying, she’d been planning.

Now was the time to execute.

She was tagging along. As far as she could see, it’s how Ash had gotten all of his companions, herself included. It was probably the case with his new batch as well, though she could only hope that this time the destroying of personal property hadn’t been involved. It was kind of his MO.

Her goal was to spend a couple of days with him in this new group. This was for two reasons. One, she wanted to remind him of exactly what it was like to travel with her, to spend time with her. If there was any chance that Ash was harboring any sort of a fondness for her, she wanted it to be reignited, and give it just a little time to fester. If not, then she just wanted him to remember how easy their friendship was, and how much they were there for each other.

The second reason was of paramount importance, in that she hoped it wouldn’t matter. She needed to take a little time to remind herself of these things too. To check in and see if her heart still fluttered, if her cheeks still flushed, and if all that was because of real feelings for Ash or if it was just an old habit carried over from childhood. She’d hate to put her heart on the line just because her body was conditioned to have certain psychosomatic responses around that dork.

She knew, invariably, that time had changed Ash. The question was, in what ways and how much?

Wonderfully, she quickly decided that it was, in good ways and, just enough. He was still her Ash, but a little more mature, a little less arrogant, even kinder and more open. These were just the things she could have hoped for from him, and she was thrilled to be able to recognize these tiny little changes here and there as she chatted with him and watched him interact with others. And her heart continued to flutter and her cheeks kept their flush.

She and Ash were collecting firewood, alone save for Pikachu, while his companions were prepping the food for dinner that night. She supposed that after all this time, he still hadn’t picked up a lot of cooking skills. Not that she had either. As celebrities, Misty and her sisters were given the opportunity to eat all around the city for free plus tip so long as they mentioned it online. So they mostly did that or leftovers or things they didn’t really have to cook. Like cereal. Or fruit.

This was her perfect chance. They were alone with little chance of interruption—unless Team Rocket showed up, at which point she’d blast their sorry behinds off before they could even get a breath into their motto.

“Hey, Ash?”

“Yep?”

His head was down, foraging for firewood—this they had gotten good at over the years. He actually already had a few pieces; she was going to have to get her piece out quickly if she wanted to get it out naturally before Ash decided it was time to head back to camp.

“I just wanted to say that it’s been really nice getting to see you again.”

Ash looked over his shoulder and smiled. “You too. And I know Pikachu’s been happy you’re here.”

“Pika!” Pikachu agreed joyfully.

“Getting to see Pikachu might actually be the best part,” Misty joked lightly before falling serious again. “No, actually, I really wanted to see you again, Ash, because…” She took one last breath, steeling herself. “Because I have feelings for you.”

Ash was silent. She’d thought he might be. No matter how Ash felt, her declaration was sure to be a surprise. Still, it made her feel like her lungs were shrinking.

“I um, wow, uh…what kind of feelings?”

Misty threw Ash a look. Softer than usual, because she was confessing her love, but still. He deserved it.

“You know,” she said gently. “The important kind.”

“The…love kind?”

She nodded. “Something like that.”

“Oh, I, uh…wow.”

Ash took his hat off and ran a finger through his hair, leaving it sticking straight up from where his hat had left it flat. He blew a raspberry and looked down at the ground, shaking his head a little.

“I, um. I wasn’t expecting that,” he said finally, looking at her sheepishly.

Misty exhaled a little, almost half of a laugh. “I figured. And, hey, you don’t need to have any sort of a response today or right now, but, you know. I had to tell you.”

“Did you, though?”

That surprised Misty. It seemed as though it surprised Ash a little too, though his expression was caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief.

“What?”

“I…We haven’t seen each other in a long time. So, have you felt this way since last time we saw each other? Or, like, before that?”

She had. Of course she had. And there was some scenario of this in her mind in which she said, yes, she’d loved him for a long time, and he said that he felt the same way…but that didn’t seem to be where this was going. So instead, she said, “What does it matter?”

That stopped Ash again. New Ash was slower with his answers. Still impulsive, but not quite as much as a kid. He seemed to realize now that his words held weight. He probably knew how much his words could hurt her now, and for the first time, she really felt vulnerable in front of him.

This was a boy she wasn’t afraid to cry in front of. She wasn’t afraid to lose in front of. Lose to. She’d been afraid of bearing her heart, but it was one she could overcome for him. And she couldn’t tell if that was changing in this moment.

“I just, I had no idea.” He continued to flounder. He wasn’t making eye contact, he was shifting foot to foot—Pikachu didn’t seem to know what to make of it either. He was just looking with wide eyes back and forth between Ash and Misty. “Um, thank you?”

That’s what made Misty’s heart sink. It was one thing to be caught by surprise. To be confused. It was another to have nothing to say besides ‘thank you.’

Misty gave a flat smile, but she knew that Ash would be able to see right through it. Without emotion, she said, “You’re welcome.”

Then she began searching for more firewood.

“C’mon, Misty, don’t be like that.”

“I’m not being like anything,” she said, her voice falsely chipper as she kept her face pointed towards the ground. “I said my piece and that’s all I wanted. Now we can get firewood and head back to camp. And then I’m going to go back to Cerulean.”

“Back to Cerulean?” he asked in disbelief. “You don’t have to do that. You can keep traveling with us.”

“It was always my plan,” she replied matter-of-factly. “No matter how this went.”

“Wait.” Ash was closer over her shoulder now. “Even if I’d said…something else, you would have gone back to Cerulean?”

She faced him again, despite her red cheeks. “Well, maybe not tomorrow, but yeah? It’s my Gym. It’s my job.”

“So you wanted a relationship, but you there and me here? Slash not here, but anywhere but Cerulean?”

“I don’t know, Ash,” Misty bit out, struggling to keep the frustration from her tone. “I was willing to discuss it.”

“What’s there to discuss? I’m always going to be traveling. I can’t give that up.”

This was a conversation that Misty hadn’t quite imagined. She’d thought about how it might go, if they talked about how they could maintain a long distance relationship. It had filled her with warm, fluffy feels as she imagined her best case scenarios of confessing. She’d figured they’d start small, just contact each other more often, and also making an effort to visit each other when they could. Then they’d see where things went. But here he was, bringing it up, but nothing warm nor fluffy was in the equation.

“First off, you probably won’t always be traveling. Life happens, and I have to imagine that you’ll be drawn from it at some point, even if it’s against your will,” she started. It wasn’t practiced, but it came out with force. “Second, you don’t freaking have to travel. You make that choice every dang day, Ash.”

Ash shook his head. “Uh-uh. You’re just trying to sound smart by saying that. But that’s not really how it is and you know it. I know that’s not how you thought when we were traveling together. You were in it. You were traveling indefinitely—haha, yes, I know that word—period, until your sisters forced you to come home.”

“That’s, argh!” she groaned, “that’s not what I meant. I mean…what are you doing, Ash? You wanna be a Master? You wanna be the best? You can work towards that anywhere. Yes, traveling through different regions felt like it helped me on my goal of being a Master, but so does being a Gym Leader. In a real, measurable way.”

She was looking at him earnestly. Even after only a few days together, he had to see her growth, right? He had to be able to see all that she’d learned as a Gym Leader…didn’t he?

“That’s not what I want.”

He looked at her like he didn’t want to say it. Like it pained him. But, nevertheless, his words were strong.

“I wanna be a Master. I don’t wanna be a Gym Leader. I don’t want to be stuck like that. Could you imagine? The Pallet Town Gym Leader?” He grimaced. “It sounds awful. And I know it’s not what you wanted either, so can’t you understand that?”

He was right; she hadn’t wanted to take over the Gym when her sisters had given it to her. And maybe that had stuck with Ash, because that’s how she left him. It was his last memory of them traveling together.

But mostly, he was wrong. And she was seething.

“Ash Ketchum, you don’t know my life. How dare you know if you want it or not? Yeah, maybe I felt like that. For a day. Because I was sad to be leaving my friends and the best years I’d had thus far. But now? If someone tried to take that Gym from me, I’d chain myself to the door and see them try.”

Ash was taken aback. He didn’t have a quick rebuttal, and Misty took the opportunity to barrel on.

“I get to teach, which is the best way to learn. I’m in my learning environment every day. Every day with Water Pokémon instead of lost in the woods for the umpteenth time or only getting Battle experience from beating Team Rocket. I’m written up by newspapers, I do interviews, people ask me to tutor—I have something to show. What do you have, Ash? Maybe instead of trekking blindly forward, you should try something new. What do you think being a Master is?”

She’d gone too far. She knew it before she was even halfway done. But it also felt good. She was proud of what she’d accomplished, and she hadn’t listed the half of it. She’d done demonstration matches for the Pokémon League, she bred specialty Pokémon, she studied and was able to swim every day. But those accolades and perks didn’t soften the blow of looking at Ash’s face.

“I thought you understood me—” he reached up a hand and patted Pikachu, “us—better than this.”

“I…” she could finally feel the tears begin to rise up. “I thought I did too.”

She walked over to him and put her load of firewood into his arms.

“What are you doing?” he asked, the confusion oddly softening his face.

“I think it would be best if I didn’t camp out with you all tonight,” she answered, the words tight in her throat.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Misty, you know it would be better to camp with us.”

She shook her head. “I’m heading home tomorrow anyway, so it’ll be fine.”

She dared to put a hand out on his shoulder. It was tense, probably mostly from holding all that firewood. But only mostly.

“We never did fight well,” she said with the smallest of laughs. Then, quietly, she said, “You’re still my best friend.”

Ash looked at her strangely. “You too,” he replied, equally quiet.

Misty shifted her hand to cup Pikachu’s cheek. “Bye, Pikachu.”

“Pikachupi?” he voiced. Misty had no idea what he wanted to say, but she could read the sadness on his face, and that was enough for her.

“I’ll miss you too.”

Then she walked away. She’d find a good place for her sleeping bag and go to sleep. She wasn’t really hungry anymore anyway. Her feet were taking her deeper into the woods, but she knew from the map that this forest wasn’t big.

She’d be on the other side in no time.

Just like the first time, going back to the Gym after traveling was hard. But something in her was fired up, raring to prove Ash wrong, so she threw herself into her work. Plus, it was a good distraction.

She could be a Master anywhere. It had been one of many things she’d learned in this short bout of traveling but aside from everything with Ash, it was the one that was sticking with her the most.

When she got back home and found that the Gym was not in ruins—still not the up to par, but it was nice to know that her sisters hadn’t run it into the ground. Job one was returning everything to normal. Bringing back more intense training regimens to the Pokémon she hadn’t brought on her travels, doing a few deep cleans on the space, and catching up on paperwork and correspondence. Then it was about taking the next step.

She now knew even more people who trained Water Pokémon and who owned Gyms. She’d visited them in their hometowns and it was only right she send out invitations now that she was back in Cerulean. These were people she could continue learning from, and she was eager to do so. And it wasn’t just the people she’d just met—there were people she’d been inspired by when traveling with Ash, relationships she’d let fall through the cracks. It was time to hit them up again and see if they remembered her.

Her sisters were a little taken aback by the fervor with which she hit the ground running. Of course, they’d been disappointed that she hadn’t come back with Ash, but once they’d gotten over that, the concern had only grown.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever acted like this after a breakup,” Lily mentioned one time when Misty was on her hands and knees scrubbing the tile of the main pool.

“Yeah, I mean, I can identify with swimming laps. Gotta have that revenge bod,” Violet added. Misty had been doing a lot of swimming too; her lung capacity had shrunk a little and she wanted to get it back to where it had been. “But this is, like, kinda extreme.”

“It wasn’t a breakup,” Misty ground out. “It wasn’t really anything.”

“It was a rejection,” Lily corrected bluntly. “But, like, I’ve never reacted like this after one of those either.”

“To be fair, I’m not sure you’ve ever had one of those.”

Lily grinned. “Oops, I guess you’re right, Vi!”

“Out!” Misty pointed a soapy hand towards the door.

She went back to scrubbing and didn’t look to see if they went or not; she wasn’t going to ask again. It was a huge doorway. She could only hope they’d find their way through it.

Truthfully, it was the quieter moments that got to her. She worked her normal workday, and then she retired. That was something she’d worked out pretty early on as Gym Leader: you have to put your duties away at some time, otherwise you’ll burn out and go crazy. One of the nice things about the stability that Ash so seemed to hate was that there was always tomorrow.

The Gym would always be there tomorrow.

But when she put work aside and she was left with little but her thoughts, that’s when she reacted more in the way that Lily seemed to want her to. There had been tears. Of course there had been tears. The five stages of grief: sadness, misery, depression, melancholy, woe—she’d been through all of it.

No, truth be told, she really did feel like she was working through the actual five stages of grief. Knowing for sure that Ash didn’t feel the same way about her that she still—yes, still—felt about him was like losing something dear to her. This crush on Ash had been a part of her identity for so long that, even though it wasn’t gone, this switch in the narrative felt like something of an existential crisis. And now she had to grieve one of her greatest fantasies. She had no idea what stage she was on, but it was clear she had a ways to go. If there truly was an equal and opposite reaction to everything, then she’d be heartbroken for a time to come. She’d loved Ash for a long time.

And she’d meant what she’d said to him. He was still her best friend. So when a couple months passed and the League tournament came around, she flipped on the channel and watched as she paid bills, answered emails, and ate her meals.

Of course, she likely would have done this whether Ash was in the tournament or not. The best thing about being a fan of Pokémon Battles was that you never had to wait long for one region’s tournament to start after the last one ended. And aside from documentaries and nature shows about Water Pokémon, it was definitely her programming of choice.

She watched and she watched and she watched. She didn’t know any of the other names or faces in the competition this year—she rarely did outside of Kanto—and every time Ash came up, her heart fluttered. Her little broken heart continued to beat for that boy.

She thought that would make it hurt more. But really, the feeling was familiar, and it made her smile. She was happy to see him do well. She was happy to see him in general. After all, no matter how she thought he should be going about it, he was following his dream. And that always had been one of the special things about him.

Maybe she was coming around to acceptance quicker than she’d thought.

Misty was expecting him any minute.

Dorian of the—still unofficial—Coastline Gym, after weeks of correspondence, was finally visiting the Cerulean Gym today. Misty had been thinking about utilizing the pool that her sisters used for water shows for underwater Pokémon Battles like Dorian did for a while, but she wanted his expert opinion.

His Gym was still unofficial because of the practice of underwater Pokémon Battles, of course. It was limiting and alienating, and the PIA refused to sanction a Gym that would so limit the challenging Trainers. But it didn’t mean that Misty couldn’t utilize the practice occasionally. Maybe request it for rematches or something, so that returning challengers couldn’t get to comfortable? She didn’t know; she was going to ask Dorian.

All of this was on her mind when she finally heard the doorbell. It would be excellent to get his opinion on the different facilities, so she’d probably do a tour first. Well, really, she’d offer him some water, food, and rest, and then probably a tour? Then maybe a Battle? Or should they battle later?

That’s why she was so surprised when she opened the front door and found herself face to face with Ash Ketchum. And Pikachu.

She was so surprised that she gasped and almost slammed the door in his face. Fortunately, she managed to hold that impulse back and instead forced out an awkward. “H-Hi. Ash.”

Ash seemed to let out a breath when she said his name, and he smiled a little. “Hey, Misty. Care to let us in?”

Automatically, she stepped aside and said, “Sure.”

Then it was like she caught up to the world, and her thoughts were going a mile a minute. Why was he here? Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why hadn’t he given her some advance warning? After the last time they’d seen each other—no, don’t think about the last time they saw each other—but still, it would be the courteous thing to do, right? Not that Ash had even been courteous. He was kind and largely considerate, but not courteous. Speaking of courteous, shouldn’t she offer him some water, food, and rest for his travels?

“Say, wanna go to the kitchen?” Misty offered, the words coming out awkward and stilted. But they were there, and that was something.

Ash nodded his head and grinned, as though she’d hit the nail on the head. Maybe he’d stopped by just because he was low on cash and wanted a bite to eat? She wouldn’t put it past him. Though she didn’t have any real food to offer Pikachu, unless he wanted to nibble on specialized Water Pokéchow.

As she silently lead the way to the kitchen, Misty was struck again by her conversation with Lily and Violet. Somehow, Ash really did feel like an ex. Someone she had history with, history that hadn’t ended well, and now she was seeing him for the first time after the fallout.

Misty got them each a glass of water and laid out an open but not stale bag of chips on the counter, which Ash didn’t hesitate in reaching for. He set out a small pile for Pikachu, who jumped onto the counter and began eating, before shoving a handful in his mouth. Misty’s own stomach was somewhat knotted up with nerves, but lord knew if there was food in arms reach, she was probably going to eat it.

“Hey, Misty, is that Dor—” Daisy cut herself off when she saw that the dark-haired boy in the kitchen was indeed, not Dorian. “Oho, no it’s not. I, um, I’ll go wait by the door for him? Yeah. Okay. Hi, Ash.”

Ash smiled. “Hi, Daisy.”

When Daisy left, Ash turned back to Misty, whose ears were bright red and burning.

“Expecting company?”

“Just work stuff,” she explained, dipping into the chip bag. “Daisy can handle it.”

Ash nodded. “Gotcha.”

Then there was silence but for the sound of chips crunching and the bag crinkling. Both Ash and Misty kept their gaze mostly on Pikachu, watching as the little mouse nibbled through its pile of chips.

“Well, the League’s over,” Ash finally said.

“I know. You lost. Again.”

Misty regretted the words as soon as they came out, but when she looked at Ash, he was laughing.

“Sure did. Did you place bets against me, Mist?”

“No!” she responded immediately, face indignant, clearly reading ‘how could I ever?’ But then it melted into a smirk. “I didn’t know any of the competition well enough to know which one was going to beat you.”

Ash clutched his chest with his salt-covered hand. “Ouch, that one hurt.”

That comment and gesture pulled Misty out of their banter-filled fantasy realm and back to reality. She was the one with the broken heart. It was a little harder to smile after that.

She didn’t know if Ash noticed a change in her expression or if maybe he was just getting to his point in coming here, but after a moment’s pause, he said, “I’m really sorry. You know. About before.”

Misty just shook her head, looking down at the countertop. It needed a wipe down. “Don’t be. I really threw a curveball at you.”

“I mean, yeah! It surprised me a lot because I’d never suspected…” He looked at her and she forced herself to maintain a few seconds of awkward eye contact. “The truth is, I’d never really thought about it before.”

“That kinda sounds like you.”

Ash gave a little lifeless chuckle. “Yeah, I guess so. Not my forte, huh?”

“Not when there are no Pokémon to speak of,” Misty replied with a little smile.

“Right,” Ash agreed, copying her smile. “But I really wish you hadn’t left.”

Misty pushed her bangs back, and let out a salty breath. “Yeah, not my shining moment. I bet your friends thought I was super weird.”

“Yeah, they thought that was strange,” he said, bobbing his head a little. “But, I mean, aside from that…I wish you hadn’t left.”

If this was Ash’s version of extending an olive branch, she’d take it. The idea that he still enjoyed and missed traveling with her, that he’d always take her back and travel with her again, it was nice. A gesture more than anything else, but nice.

“Thanks, Ash. But I would have had to go back to the Gym eventually.”

Ash surprised her by letting out a little groan and rubbing his hands on his face. Just the palms, though, so he didn’t get salt and oil all over himself. The sound was enough to draw Pikachu’s attention from licking the countertop, though, and the Pokémon went back over to Ash and patted his bicep.

“I got it, buddy, I got it,” Ash said, bringing one hand back to his side, and the other to the top of Pikachu’s head, scratching around his ears a little.

“You okay, Ash?” Misty asked.

“I thought a lot after you left, Mist,” Ash said, his brow furrowed as though he was still thinking about it. Certainly thinking more than Misty was used to seeing him do. “About all the stuff you said, about what I was doing, and, you know, just about you.”

Misty felt her heart give a little somersault and she had to take a deep breath to push it down.

“And…you were right.”

“I was right?” Misty asked. “About what?”

“About me,” he answered. “About being a Pokémon Master. I guess I hadn’t realized it, but I’ve kind of been on autopilot for years now. Since Hoenn, I guess. Always starting over in a new region with only Pikachu, challenging eight Gyms, doing the League…losing.”

“Right,” she said, following him so far.

She’d said what she’d said to him out of anger. And desperation. And beginning to see a change in her own life, a good one, and wanting him to be able to do the same.

“So,” Ash shared a determined look with Pikachu, “I’m going to do the Indigo League again.”

Misty didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“What?”

“I know we’re already into the season, so I’m going to have to work quickly to get all eight badges, but I already know the regions and the Gyms, so it should be doable. Plus, I’m going to use Pokémon that I already have at the Professor’s lab. At least to start with.”

“Wow, that’s awesome, Ash!” Misty exclaimed. “But why are you…why?”

Ash grinned. “Because of you! I figure that if I go back to where I started, then I can really see where I’ve improved and what I have to work on. And I feel like I’ve gotten really good at working with a new team in a new region, but now I should try pairing different Pokémon of mine together, maybe ones that haven’t ever battled together before, and, you know, refine some skills.”

“That all sounds really great, Ash.”

It did. It wasn’t that different from what he was already doing, but it was a conscious decision that he was making, and more mindful than she might have expected of him. Then, depending on how this went, he’d have more experience to make an even more out of the box decision after the Indigo League.

“Yeah, I’m actually pretty excited,” he said, seemingly barely able to hold back from bouncing up and down. “Plus, I figure that if I’m in Kanto, then you and I could try to start seeing each other.”

She could almost hear the sound of all the air getting sucked out of the room. It was like that noise when a computer powers down or like doing a cannon ball in the pool and all the water goes in your ears. Plus, she could barely breathe.

“I, I’m sorry, what?”

Ash quickly began to backtrack. “Assuming that’s what you still want, of course! I mean, we never really got to talk about what it was that you wanted back, you know, when we last saw each other, but I just assumed that it was a ‘seeing each other’, ‘dating’, kind of a situation, right? But, I mean, you probably know better than me about how these things go, but also after the way I acted, maybe you don’t want to, I mean…do you want to?”

He was almost cringing as he looked at her. One eye was squinted down, and his nose and lips were scrunched, as though waiting for her to deck him across the face.

“I…um.” If she had surprised him a few months back, than he had absolutely confounded her. “I was under the impression that you didn’t want to.”

He took his hat off and was running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t. Or at least, I didn’t know that I did. You know I’m not a master of, I don’t know, identifying feelings. Usually it’s just good or bad or, like, hungry or tired. All I know is that I was thinking about you a lot these past months and I would have preferred to be thinking about you and talking to you.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough to base a relationship on, Ash.”

“But what about our friendship?” He set his hat on the counter and grinned at her in the way that always made her stomach flip flop. “We’re best friends, aren’t we?”

She smiled. “I might have said that.”

“Then isn’t that enough? That is, if you meant the other stuff you said…”

Her face turned a little pink. A small part of her still couldn’t believe that she’d actually confessed her feelings to Ash, and that the world had kept turning. She’d been living in a post-confession world for months now.

“I meant it,” she said quietly.

“Then, great! I mean, I won’t be here, but it’ll be really easy to stop by. And we just make sure that we’re good about calling whenever I’m at a Pokémon Center and stuff. And if you ever want to get away from the Gym, even just for a day, then you can visit me wherever I am and we can, I don’t know, just do whatever.”

He was painting the image with a broad brush, but it looked good to Misty. It looked so good to her. In all of her rosy depictions of how post-confession life with Ash could be if all went well, this had to be one of the best possible outcomes. Mostly because it was becoming real before her very eyes.

“What made you change your mind?”

“It’s not that my mind changed, it just…grew? Because it’s not like I didn’t, um, you know, before. It’s just that I hadn’t thought about it,” Ash explained. “But then when you left, I felt really bad. Bad about you leaving like that, and the things I’d said—the things you said too—bad that you’d left at all. Then, you know, you were on my mind a lot, after a while when I was thinking about you, I felt good! Happy to be thinking of you. And I thought, oh, maybe that’s what she meant. Like, just looking at you made me happy.”

She looked at him. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I meant.”

“Good.”

Then they were just looking at each other, twin smiles on their faces. Then, at all the eye contact, they both began to laugh.

“Okay, okay,” Misty said as they were finally calming down. “Let’s go to the Gym.”

“Uh, Mist, we’re already in the Gym.”

“No, dummy, the arena,” Misty corrected. “You’ve got a Badge to try and win, right?”

“Weren’t you expecting company?”

Misty had forgotten about that. Maybe she’d heard the doorbell ring while she and Ash had been talking—she couldn’t remember.

“I can’t think of anything better for a guest than bearing witness to one of the best matches he’ll ever see.”

“One of the best matches?” Ash asked, eyebrows raised. The he picked his hat back up and put it on backwards, looking at Misty with a fire in his eyes. “Try the best match.”

Misty laughed. “I’m not even sure if he made it, Ash,”

“Screw that!” Ash said. “Let’s go to the Gym! You ready, Pikachu?”

“Pika!”

“Are you actually going to battle her?”

“Pika chu!”

“Haha, you hear that, Misty? Just try and beat Pikachu with your Water Pokémon!”

“I beat cocky punks like you every day, Ash, just try me!”

“Oh, I’m going to do so much more than try.”

To Misty’s surprise, Ash reached back for her hand, and began to drag her towards the arena where they’d had their first match so many years ago. And so much had changed since then, not the least of which being that now her hand was in his. But also…

She was going to beat him this time.

#pokemon #pokeani #anipoke #pokeshipping #aaml #ash and misty #ash ketchum #oneshot #fanfiction #writing

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