Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ The Timetravelers: Moving Ahead ❯ Telling ( Chapter 4 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Disclaimer for the lazy: Don't own Pokémon. Oh well.
And more back horror! EEK! The Timetravelers: MA
Part Four: Telling

May 20th, 1999
Cerulean City, 6 p.m.

It was another night at the gym. Misty was in the water, warming up for practice. Ash was in the corner. Again he decided not to swim; his scars hadn't completely healed. But Misty didn't know that. All she knew was that he didn't go in the water at all for some reason. He never even took off his shirt. It was all so confusing to the teenager. For once, it seemed that Ash wasn't opening up.

"It must have been that bad then," she thought. "He's never been this quiet about anything before."

Soon she had no time to think. Her sisters had thrown her in the giant pool, and she needed to swim, otherwise she'd drown. "That wasn't nice!" she yelled. "I was thinking!"

"You think?!" Violet said in amazement. "The runt of the family isn't supposed to think!"

Misty then got out of the water and chased her sister around the pool edge for a while. Violet eventually gave up and went back in the water to practice. Misty did the same.

Ash still looked on. He was looking into space. The pool was trying to invite him in, but still he resisted. His scars… he didn't want anyone to see them. It was his burden, and he didn't want anyone else to worry about it. He was just fine, as long as he constantly put antibacterial stuff on the scars. Soon they'd heal and all that would be left were (maybe) some silvery traces of them. By that time, no one would care. Besides, he didn't want them to see him branded. Knowing that he was branded for life… it was a horrible feeling.

"How do the others like me deal with it? That is, if Mk isn't the only one that suffers like me," he thought. "How do they go on with life knowing that they might be outcast because of their family?"

The girls were still in the pool, working out. They had a brand-new show to present in two weeks, and everything had to be perfect. If not, they'd never live it down.

"Hey Ash! Sure you don't want to perform? We can always use some extra help," Lily offered.

"No thanks," he said. He then slipped back into quietness. Misty looked up at him, sitting in the stands, alone.

"Come on! At least take a dip!" she yelled.

"Nah."

She got out of the pool and walked up to him, sitting there. "What's gotten into you? You're acting strange. Why are you so afraid to go swimming?"

"Who said I was afraid?" Ash asked.

"Well, you always decline and go silent. I just assumed so." She looked at him. There seemed to be no fear in his eyes, only… it wasn't something she could describe. It was an emotion she'd never seen in his eyes before. What was it?

"It's no big deal. I just don't feel like swimming, that's all." He turned around and went back to his silent state.

Misty turned him around. "Come on, there's something else, I know it. You can tell me. I won't tell, I promise."

"Not here."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Your sisters. They're watching." He could sense their stares from the stands. They were staring at him, curious to see what the problem was. Misty sighed and pulled Ash to a more private place. The only things that could see them were the Pokémon, and that wouldn't matter. They couldn't say anything to Misty's sisters anyway.

"So, what is it? Why won't you go swimming?"

He sighed and reached for the shirt on him.

"Ash, this is no time to be stripping," Misty said, staring.

"No, you need to see something." He then took all of it off. Misty didn't see anything at first. He looked just fine, normal. "It's my back…"

She turned him around and looked at it. The sight was horrifying to her. She could see the scars because Ash didn't have the bandages on. He always took them off when he was here, just in case he did go swimming.

"It's…it's…" She couldn't stop staring. The scars were so red, redder than his back. They seemed to be there for a while, but no more than two weeks, if that. They were there… and it scared her to no end. She found herself putting her hand over her mouth.

"Horrifying, isn't it?" Ash said. "But did you see it?"

"See what?" She took a second glance at his back. She saw the rose. "Oh, that rose?" The rose, it was great with its beauty… and that pesky word "Celedon" under it. Oh, if only that word wasn't there, it wouldn't be a problem…

"I was right. It did ruin your back…" she mumbled. Long ago, she had thought to herself about how the mark could ruin his back.

Ash looked at her. "I know."

"But how… how did those scars get there? What happened?" she asked.

He put his shirt back on. "Can we talk about that later?"

She nodded, understanding that he still needed some time.

The next day
Same city, 5 p.m.

Misty had gone over to the apartment where Ash now lived. He was the only one there; Giovanni had gone to work and Mk just wasn't there at the moment.

"Hey. What's up?" she asked as she sat down.

"Nothin'. Just came back from training. How about you?"

"I'm fine. Nothing's happened at all."

The two teens sat there on the couch with nothing to do. For about five minutes they sat there in silence, until Ash broke it.

"I was thinking… do you want to know what happened?"

Misty looked at him, shocked. "You're ready to tell?"

"I think so." He took a deep breath, and it all came out: the first day, the lessons (both TR and manner), how there was nothing to do, how the Celedons treated him, how he was so lonely… so alone, with only his mother to care… so alone…

By the time he was done, he was nearly sobbing. The whole ordeal was traumatizing.

"No wonder you've been so silent…" Misty said. She soon found herself hugging the poor boy. She wanted him to feel better, to let him know that she would be there for him. He felt better.

"Thank you… aaack!"

The other disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon because… Ash would never be severely traumatized.

I'll leave you with your imagination on the end. ^_^ But I think you'll understand when you see the next part. Hopefully…

Sorry if it seems poorly written (or worse than usual). It was all on top of my head, and I wrote it