Chapter 23 – The Coming Nightfall
The sound of shovels chopping into a pile of dirt and the subsequent grunts of effort were the only sounds breaking the eerie still of the hot afternoon outside Celadon. As the sun shone down from a cloudless sky, Ash and Brock stood between a large mound of earth and a shallow pit. Methodically the two men worked without speaking, gradually filling in the pit and then patting it down until it was nothing more than a patch of bear field in an otherwise unbroken lake of squat golden grass. Standing up straight, covered in dirt and sweat without one of the cool breezes from the previous night to drive away the heat, Ash walked to the head of the bare patch of ground and stood there for a long minute while Brock struggled and sat down.
As the older Gym Leader dropped his shovel and groped along his leg, running his thumbs along the stitched and bandaged laceration twisting down his thigh, he winced and his head spun from the stinging pain. Sitting beside him in the shallow grass, Pikachu approached the older trainer and nudged the man's ankle with his cold nose. Brock glanced down as the Pokemon rubbed the side of his leg with its head and then looked up at him. Brock reached down and scratched the Pokemon behind the ears like he'd seen Ash do many times before, then looked over to the small cluster of Pokemon a few yards away. Arcanine, Pidgeot, and Butterfree sat around one another while Golem and Rhyhorn observed the proceedings from a little farther back. Brock grimaced and looked back to Ash, silently standing over the improvised grave and staring down at the ground.
A long time passed before anyone moved or spoke, so long in fact that by the time Ash turned around to face Brock and the others, the sun had already dipped far enough in the sky to partially hide behind Celadon's still smoking skyline. Ash walked forward and sat down beside Brock with Pikachu beside them, and rested his hands on the ground. Still the two men remained silent and only looked off to the east as the sun set behind the city at their backs. As the sky gradually turned more and more red, Brock grabbed a handful of the grass around him, surprised by how quickly it had dried out from the morning's rainstorm.
"How's your leg?" Ash asked, somber but so suddenly that Brock and the Pokemon jumped.
"Um," said the older of the two. "It's alright. Still hurts like hell, but I've..." he paused and took a breath. "Really I'm more worried about you. I know this has got to be hard..."
The corner of Ash's lip twitched, like it was trying to show off a smile but couldn't quite complete the action. "She..." Ash stopped and sucked in a quick breath. For a moment he reached up and ran a hand over his mouth and chin, then simply covered them both with his palm as his eyes began to tear up. He blinked and quickly wiped his eyes. "She wanted to settle down," he said, resting his hands on his knees. "She wanted to go back to Vermillion and just... live."
Brock looked away as Ash's countenance fell and the younger trainer again reached up and hid his face in his hand. Several more minutes passed as Brock remained silent and Ash sat surrounded by his Pokemon. Arcanine, whimpering quietly, curled around Ash and set his head on the ground by his trainer's knee. Pikachu settled in a little closer, while Butterfree remained aloft and scanned the surround.
"Sorry," said Ash, pulling his hand away from his face and taking a shaky breath. He rubbed his red eyes again and put a hand beside Pikachu. "I just can't think of anything to make it make sense."
"I'm really sorry," Brock said. "But it's not your fault. There's nothing anyone could have done."
"You sure?" asked the younger trainer, voice quivering. "I'm the one who insisted on helping Erika. Misty-" he stopped again. "She didn't want any part of it. She trusted me. "
Brock remained quiet for a moment, weighing the situation. "You can't see the future," he said. "You couldn't have stopped it."
Ash shook his head. "I should have been able to do something instead of flying around like an idiot. I should have kept a closer eye on her. I should have known she was-"
"Listen to me," Brock interrupted, looking over at the other trainer with a grimace. "Ash, don't do this to yourself. Sitting there and beating yourself up over something we can't do anything about isn't going to do anyone a damn's worth of good, least of all you."
"What do you know about it?" Ash barked, turning on Brock startling the Pokemon around him. "You're not the one who keeps getting the shaft every time you turn around." He pushed himself up to his feet and thrust a finger at Brock. "You've never had to deal with losing everything, everything you care about over and over so you don't get to talk to me about beating yourself up. You don't have a fucking clue!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the older Gym Leader backpedaled. "I'm not trying to make you mad. I just don't want to see you tear yourself apart over this. It won't help anything."
Clenched his fists at his sides, Ash stepped backwards and looked away from Brock, glaring at Celadon. "You're sorry?" he fumed. "Do you have any idea what it even means to be sorry? Brock, tell me what you have to be sorry about?"
"I lost a friend here too," Brock answered. "And my best friend lost a lot more than that. Both of those seem pretty big to me."
"You don't get it," Ash fumed. After a long break, during which Ash's eyes just flitted from one building in the skyline to the next, the younger trainer took a breath and repeatedly flexed his hands. "I'm so sick of this," he growled, face hard.
"I know it can't look like it now," Brock stood up, his leg shaking. He started to take a step closer to Ash, but stopped short and remained a few paces away, "but it will get better."
Ash shook his head and again turned away. "Bullshit," he strained against screaming, jaw clenched. "That's exactly what I thought after Pallet burned. That's what I said after mom died, after Aisha died, after all of my friends died... I got through on that lie" he held his fists in front of his face, arms trembling as he screwed his eyes shut and went rigid. "I'm sick to death of telling myself it will get better! It never does and every time things start to look up the world finds a new way to screw me! God I'm sick of all this shit!
"Wait, just wait!" Ash's eyes grew wild as he looked towards the city and screamed. "Give me a month, a year, a fucking lifetime! However long it takes! I'll find whoever's responsible this and they will pay!"
Brock held his mouth tightly closed as Ash's rage gave way to a wince of pain. The young trainer wrapped his arms around his stomach and doubled over. A moment passed before Ash dropped to his knees and began tugging at his hair and beating the soft dirt with his fists, all in silence. The older Gym Leader looked away, face contorting as his stomach burned. Ash, every muscle shaking, dropped forward and pressed his forehead to the ground. His fingers clawed into the earth and he pushed himself back up to his knees. Face streaked with dirt and tears, he looked up at the sky and released his grip on the clods in his hands.
"Why me?" Ash asked, his voice somewhere between a whisper and a moan. "I'm not a bad person, I'm really not." Tears began dripping down his face again.
The older trainer waited, moving to the head of the improvised grave and picking up Misty's backpack. As Ash's breathing evened out, Brock slung the pack over his back. "You're not alone in all this," said the older Gym Leader, much quieter as he limped up beside Ash. He put a hand on the younger trainer's shoulder. "You've still got Jenny, me and your grandfather. You've got friends in Fuchsia and Vermilion. We're all right with you, one hundred percent."
"Is it because I've killed people?" Ash asked, not looking up at the older Gym Leader, "or not helped people I could have?" His eyes shifted down to the mud all over his hands. "I haven't done anything worse than the people I'm trying to stop but I keep getting punished for it."
"Sometimes," Brock said slowly, "bad things happen to good people. It's just the way things work."
Ash paused for a moment, looking down at his hands and balling them into fists. "Fine," he said, voice inexplicably even and more calm as the mud squeezed out from between his fingers. "If that's how it's going to be, I'll just be the bad thing that happens to bad people."
"Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves," said Brock. "Maybe we should head back to town."
Ash nodded and took a deep breath. "Right, sure," he sighed. "Whatever, but we're going to the casino first."
SC
"The lights," Erika said, calm as ever.
"No, no no please!" the man tied to the heavy wooden chair screamed, straining against his restraints as the guard in the little concrete room reached for the light switch. "Don't-" he stopped as the guard flicked the switch. Instantly the copper wires running from the power box hummed, pumping the electrical current into the long steel screws drilled into the prisoner's kneecaps. The man's head jerked back and he howled, convulsing in the chair which shook despite the bolts holding it to the floor.
As she glanced away, Erika's face soured though she let the man writhe and shriek for a moment longer before gesturing to the guard. The armored man reached for the switch and cut the power to the wires. Immediately the light bulb hanging over the prisoner's head grew a little brighter, but it took a minute for the man to stop shaking. He slumped against his leather bonds and moaned a little, staring blankly at the screws in his knees and the copper lines that connected them to the light switch.
"Fine, fine," said the prisoner, completely out of breath and gasping every word, "whatever you want to know. You win."
"Good answer," said the self-proclaimed empress, walking forward. "Now, let's start with something easy: your name."
"Thomas Richard Vicar," said the prisoner, unable to look up.
Erika glanced at the guard by the door. When the soldier held up a small billfold and nodded to Erika after glancing inside, the empress turned back to her prisoner. "Richard, huh? And why in the world would you even think to challenge me in battle?"
The man gasped in a breath. "Boss said it would be easy," the prisoner groaned. "Said there would be plenty of time to relax after it was done. Said I'd be a hero." His frame shook again.
Erika smirked. "I guess your boss was wrong," she straightened up and walked around the back of the man's chair to the small plate of medical instruments at the rear of the room. "How's that adrenaline treating you?" she asked condescendingly, picking up and then discarding an empty syringe. "Normally you'd have passed out from the pain an hour ago, but that wouldn't be useful at all now would it? Fortunately there are drugs, most of them simple to acquire in bulk, that will keep you conscious no matter how much pain you endure, for hours or even days on end."
"I said I'd tell you what you want to know," said the recently deposed mayor. "So if you've got a question, ask it you bitch."
Before Erika could respond, a knock on the door broke the still of the room. Standing up straight, the empress glanced at the door and nodded to the guard. The man in the armor immediately pulled on the heavy metal handle and the door swung inward.
"Excuse me, ma'am," said a young boy, peering wide-eyed around the corner. He froze and looked between the woman and the prisoner.
"Well, out with it," said Erika, her voice betraying no impatience. "What's the matter?"
"Um," stammered the runner. "Ash Ketchum is back. Mike said you wanted to know when he got to the gate-"
"Yes, thank you," said the woman in the blue kimono. "On your way and bring a torch. I'll be out in just a moment."
The boy hesitated for a second longer, still staring at the prisoner in the chair before the door closed in front of him. The guard, a tall man with an unremarkable features and a swarthy complexion, remained facing his empress.
"I'll have someone to speak with you in just a little bit," said the empress.
As Erika walked for the door, leaving the paper on the prisoner's lap, she caught the guard twitch once and couldn't miss the exceptionally uncomfortable expression on his face. Thanking the man for his services, the empress quickly left the chamber and crossed the narrow concrete hall to the stairwell on the opposite side. Ascending that, proceeded and followed by servants with torches, she came out of the small bunker at the back of the wooded enclosure inside the gym's greenhouse. Spotting the pair of trainers, their Pokemon making them impossible to overlook, Erika walked forward with her escorts and held out her arms when she neared them.
"Gentlemen," she said amicably, ignoring the bustle of people all around the fort. "I'm glad you're back, though you did miss a lovely memorial service."
Ash looked over at the empress, his expression devoid of the saccharin friendliness she so expertly displayed. "I had one of my own to take care of, thanks," he said.
Erika's face fell only a little and her tone grew more somber. "Misty's name will be the first carved into the memorial wall, far more prominent that any other titles of the dead. Even my caretaker's name will only be listed after-"
"The Game Corner was empty," Ash interrupted, bringing Erika to a stammering halt. "There was a secret basement, but Vicar's men picked it clean. There wasn't a thing to implicate anyone in anything illegal."
A quick twitch of frustration in her cheek broke the empress' composure for only a second before she once again grew completely calm. "You're sure?" she asked.
Brock, still sitting on his Rhyhorn, grunted and swung his leg over his Pokemon's saddle. "Positive," he said. "We had Mike's men helping us comb through the place... for more than an hour," he glared at Ash, eliciting a flinch from the younger trainer, "but all we could find were empty shipping containers."
"That's unfortunate, but better than nothing," sighed the woman in the kimono, closing her eyes and raising a hand to press two fingers to her temple. "Where were the containers from? Was there a manifest?"
"No paperwork," Ash shook his head. "Vicar's men got to it first, but the crates were marked by a Silph Company, whatever that is."
"Silph is a corporation based in Saffron," said Erika, balling one hand into a fist and pressing a knuckle to her lip. "And they're big... very big. I'm surprised you haven't heard of them."
Ash and Brock looked at each other. "Nope," said the eldest.
"Well, for what it's worth, Silph if the biggest corporation this side of Indigo Plateau. They produce most of the higher end gear used by trainers across the region. All of the core cities contract with them for technology or services in one way or another. If they're connected with Team Rocket..." she stopped.
"How much money could Rocket be raking in from them, I wonder," muttered Brock.
"They'd be pulling in more than money," said the empress. "You'd be looking at tons of hard resources, advanced technology, and untold manpower. Saffron is after all an industrial powerhouse. That's why someone as powerful as Sabrina is there to protect it..."
Ash glanced between Brock and Erika. "Then that's where I'm going," he said. "My Pokemon are grounded, so what's the fastest road there?"
Brock, wincing as he did, turned on his heel to face Ash. "Remember what I said about not getting ahead of ourselves?"
"And I'll need that recommendation," Ash went on, looking to Erika again, "tonight if it's possible so I can set out immediately."
"Ash," Brock tried to interject.
Glancing between the two trainers, Erika settled on the younger, smirking a little to herself. "I'll have it ready in an hour."
"That works," said Ash. "Let your runner know I'll be in the Pokemon Center."
"Ash," Brock reached out and grabbed his teammate's arm.
"What?" asked the younger trainer as Erika turned and took her leave. He shirked out of Brock's grip, then leaned down and picked up Pikachu.
"Don't you think this is a little rushed?" asked the older trainer. "We can't just race off to Saffron half-blind. We need to-"
"To what, Brock?" Ash put Pikachu on his shoulder and crossed his arms. "What should I do? Sit back? Try to gather a little information first? Nothing?" He raised an eyebrow when Brock didn't respond. "That's not how it works," he went on. "That's never how it's worked. Brock, if there's anything I've learned over the last year it's that nothing is going to get done unless I do it, so, guess what I'm going to do."
Glancing sideways at his Rhyhorn, Brock put a hand on the Pokemon's saddle. "Could you at least give me a day or two?" he asked, nodding down to his leg. "This isn't going to fix itself overnight, unless you can pull Professor Oak out of that backpack."
"I'm leaving as soon as Erika hands me her letter to the Elite Four," said the trainer. "If you think you can keep up you're welcome to join me."
"What?" Brock exclaimed. He hobbled forward a little. "You're going to leave? Just like that while I'm stuck here?"
"I'm not saying you can't come," said Ash. "Nobody will stop you from riding Onyx or Rhyhorn to Saffron. All I said was that I'm leaving as soon as possible and that you can come if you think you're good for it."
"Ash, I really didn't want to say it, but now you're just being stupid and reactionary. I know this can't be easy, but think about what you're doing before you run headlong into a disaster," retorted Brock. "If we make a wrong move now then everything will have been for nothing."
Ash reached down to his belt and snapped open a pokeball. Out of the blinding white light, Arcanine swirled into existence and, upon seeing Ash, bumped the trainer with his head and yipped happily to see him. Ash reached over Arcanine's shoulder and pulled himself up onto the Pokemon's back, patting the massive canine and turning him about to face the fort's open gate.
"If I don't make a move now," Ash responded, "then everything will have been a waste. I'm going to put as much pressure as I can on Team Rocket, hit them hard and fast however I can. I'll figure out the rest when I get to Saffron." He paused as Brock glared up at him. "maybe it would be better it you stayed here, or went back to Pewter."
Brock shook his head a little. "Really," he said. "Why do you say that?"
"You've got a family to look after," said Ash. "I don't, so I've got a lot less to worry about not coming home to. On second thought, Brock I don't think I want you coming with me."
Stunned, Brock let his jaw hang loose before giving himself a quick shake to snap to. "So that's it then?" muttered the older Gym Leader. "Ash, you're being an idiot. Throwing yourself at Team Rocket isn't noble, it's not heroic. It's a fancy suicide and it wouldn't make Misty happy."
"I've tried to play it slow so far Brock," said Ash, "and look where it's landed us. Right now, I've got nothing holding me back from taking the initiative... no past, no future." The unbreakable grimace he'd worn for the passed day wavered just a little bit, but remained in place. "All I've got left is right now, and one hell of a chance to hit Team Rocket while they're off balance."
"If that's the case, you might want this." Brock pulled Misty's pack from his shoulder and slung it to Ash. "If I don't see you before tomorrow, I guess I'll see you around."
"Good luck, and thanks for all your help," said Ash. "I mean that." He tapped Arcanine's sides with his heels and the Pokemon bounded off for the gate, seemingly ignorant of or ambivalent towards the bandaged around its front paws.
Again Brock shook his head and, with a grunt of effort, pulled himself up onto Rhyhorn. "Stupid idiot," he mumbled. "That stupid, stupid, idiot is going to get himself killed." Swaying as the Pokemon slowly plodded forward, carrying him back to the pagoda, Brock kept brooding, catching himself gripping his Pokemon's reins in clenched fists and holding his jaw so tight it gave him a headache.
"Why won't he just listen to me?" Brock griped, stopping in front of the wooden palace.
"Why won't who listen?" asked a soft voice.
Jumping in his saddle and turning towards the sound, Brock immediately spotted the amber-eyed police officer standing a few feet to his left. Jennifer pushed herself up from the rail by the watering trough, where her two Ninetales sat hunkered down and quietly lapping up the water, and made her way towards the Gym Leader. Still tense from the jolt, and trying to ignore his having missed such an obvious sight as the two Pokemon and their trainer, Brock rested a hand on the pommel of the saddle and leaned forward a little without answering.
"You look like hell," said the police officer, stopping and holding a hand up to Brock. "Need help?"
Taking her hand and leaning most of his weight on her, Brock let himself down from the saddle and rested against Rhyhorn with a groan. "I've spent way too much time walking around," said the Gym Leader.
Jennifer glanced down at his leg, unable to see the bandages beneath his heavy canvas pants, but unable to miss his limp. "Didn't the doc tell you to stay off it for a few days?" she asked.
"I had things to do," said Brock. "Jennifer, I hate to ask, but can you give me a hand in?" Brock muttered as he held out a pokeball and Rhyhorn disappeared into a blast of light. "These stairs are going to be the death of me."
"Sure," said the woman, dipping down and, much to Brock's surprise, grabbing the Gym Leader's arm and pulling it over her shoulder. "And please, it's just Jenny. People don't need to be so formal, at least when I'm not in uniform."
"Jenny then," said Brock, leaning on her as the police officer stood up and took almost all of his weight off his bad leg. One step at a time she helped him get up to the porch of the pagoda and then leaned the Gym Leader against a wall. "Thanks for sticking around to help out yesterday," sighed Brock.
"It was good to get a little payback," said Jenny, putting her hands behind her back, taking a deep breath of the crisp night air, and leaning against the wall next to Brock. "I can't really say I enjoyed it, but then again life's almost never about what you enjoy."
Brock pressed his lips together without answering, prompting jenny to glance over at him.
"I'm sorry about Misty," said the woman. "I know she was your's and Ash's friend... how're you guys taking it?"
"Not well," Brock answered, looking out over the edge of the porch and watching as men in armor, women, and children went this way and that, still cleaning up after the battle and taking stock of losses on both sides. "I'm really worried about Ash," he went on. "He's not taking it well at all."
"How close were they?" asked Jenny.
"Given our line of work, too close I think," said Brock, his tone heavy with fatigue as he rubbed his eye. He slid down the wall and rested his hands on his knees. "I guess I should have seen it coming. Considering how much time we spend in harm's way, taking one life-threatening risk after another, it would be stupid to assume that everyone would make it out alive... Still, I hoped."
"It wasn't stupid," said Jenny. "A little naive maybe, but not stupid. When I was in the Police Academy one of the first lessons I learned was that you should always prepare for the worst, while hoping for the best."
"That's just it though," Brock clenched his fists, though his voice remained level. "Ash and I both went in expecting the best and not even considering that the worst might happen. He thought about it sure, but he never really made any mental preparations for it and now... now I'm worried that he might have gone off the deep end."
Jenny turned and stood away from the wall, facing Brock. "How do you mean?" she asked, offering her two Ninetales a sidelong glance as they walked up from the watering trough and sat beside her. "What's he saying?"
"It's what he's doing," said the Gym Leader. "He's leaving for Saffron tonight after telling me to go back to Pewter."
"What?" Jenny gasped.
"My reaction exactly," muttered Brock.
"He's going to get himself killed. He can't do that."
"I can't stop him," said Brock. "He's dead set on it and..."
"And what?" asked the police officer, suddenly incredulous.
"And I'm not sure I should try to dissuade him," Brock went on. He took another deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, leaning his head on the wall. For a second he just listened to the sounds of the fort, people talking and boots stomping, while Jenny waited for him to collect his thoughts. "If Ash is set on making life hell for Team Rocket, then there's no doubt in my mind that he'll find a way to do it. Some part of me really doesn't want to be around, just on the off chance I got in his way or slowed him down... besides, he was right about one thing."
"And that would be?" Jenny muttered, following Brock's gaze out over the fort.
"I'd probably slow him down right now."
Jenny shook her head. "I hate it when people let their feelings get in the way of, of," she swirled one hand through the air, "common sense."
Brock laughed once and looked up at her. "Common sense would probably dictate that we all pack up, go home, and stop killing ourselves trying to fight Team Rocket." He stopped and shrugged. "At any rate, I'm at a loss. I've never had to try and help someone who just had their life turned upside down."
"Maybe," said Jenny, "he just needs a little time to get it all straight. So you're not going to follow him to Saffron?"
Brock shook his head. "If he doesn't want my help, then he doesn't want my help."
"That's a great attitude," Jenny muttered.
SC
Eyes darting from one pile to the next, Ash quickly and silently took stock of all of the items he'd laid out on the floor of his room at the Pokemon Center. After he'd sorted all of his personal belongings into piles mentally labeled 'useful' and 'trash' the young trainer began quickly putting the useful items back into his bag while leaving those he considered garbage, mostly little odds and ends he'd picked up in previous towns and never used. Once he'd managed to pack up his notably lighter backpack, Ash turned from his spot on the floor and looked at the bed, where Pikachu sat licking himself next to another backpack. For a long minute the Gym Leader only stared at the pack, his face tight.
"Hell with it," he muttered, standing up and walking up to the bed.
As Ash reached for the pack, Pikachu glanced up at him without making a sound and only watched the trainer. Ash undid the ties holding the backpack closed and turned it upside down, spilling its contents out over the bed. Clothes, plastic cases, and small weapons scattered across the comforter, and Ash waited a moment before beginning to sort the mess into a number of distinct piles. All of the clothes, well over half the bag's contents, he tossed aside, while a hatchet and a few wickedly thin knives he moved to the floor beside his own backpack. Two of the plastic cases held tubes of lipstick and other articles of makeup, leaving Ash to shake his head and wonder why Misty had wasted the space on bringing something she never used. He tossed those aside and picked up a belt, complete with magnetic clips and two pokeballs. Detaching those from their clips, Ash held one in each hand and read the labels Misty had taped onto each sphere.
"Munchies?" he muttered, looking at one the labels. "Really?" Ash sighed. He pulled the tape off the pokeball and clipped the little orb to his belt. Vaporeon's pokeball he left labeled and put behind Arcanine's, before turning and scanning the piles on the bed one last time. Frowning, he reached out and picked up the empty backpack, unzipping a pouch he'd missed on the side and turning it upside down. As another pokeball dropped out of the pouch and plopped on the bed, Ash again tossed the pack aside.
"Almost forgot," he said, picking up the purple sphere and holding it up to the light and turning it. The Masterball flickered and Ash quickly turned and put it in his pack, along with all of the weapons he'd uncovered.
Jerking towards the door as a loud knock shattered the calm of the small room, Ash immediately reached to his boot and pulled a knife from under the cuff of his pants. Demanding to know who was there, Ash stepped to the door and put his hand on the knob. He heard a high voice answer that Erika had sent a package for him, prompting Ash to sigh and put away the knife. He opened the door and stepped onto the threshold, immediately spotting the sparkling purple eyes under the violet hood as the girl in the door held up an envelope.
"Evening stranger," Janine chirped, holding a manilla envelope out for Ash. "Long time, no see."
Ash stepped back, his mouth shaping itself to form a word he didn't utter, and wiped the look of surprised confusion from his face. "Janine?" he managed to ask. "What are you doing here?"
"Well right now," said the girl. "I'm delivering the badge and recommendation I lifted from Erika's page," she walked by him into the room, stopped and looked around, then set the envelope on the little end table by the bed. "What happened in here?" she asked, turning and sitting on the foot of the bed. "Arcanine get in a fight with Charizard?"
"I mean what are you doing in Celadon?" asked Ash, shaking his head.
"Thought there might be some trouble going on," the girl in the sweatshirt shrugged, reaching up and pulling back her hood. "Truth be told, one of the agents my father had stationed here didn't report in on time so I decided to come to town and make sure she," Janine paused, "understood that there had been a change in management back home. Imagine my surprise when I show up and find that you managed to start and end a war in the time I spent getting here."
Ash crossed his arms and looked between his visitor and the door. "Well," he muttered, "can I have the package then?"
Quickly nodding, Janine got up and grabbed the envelope, then crossed the room and offered it to him. "Sure sure," she said when he took it, "here you go." Janine watched him for a second as Ash ripped off the top of the envelope and dumped the little badge inside into the palm of his hand. "You alright?" she asked, her tone fading immediately from amicable to deadly serious as she stared at him. "You look ill."
Ash focused on the colorful bit of metal in his hand, and set the Erika's papers on top of his pack. "Misty's dead," he said, pinning the badge next to the others on the inside of his jacket.
"Oh my god I'm sorry," Janine's eyes went wide. She reached over and almost put a hand on his shoulder, but pulled back.
Ash's jaw tightened for a split second and he looked away. "Me too," he said after a quick pause and a deep breath.
Simply staring at him for a heartbeat, Janine turned and sat back down on the foot of the bed. "Um... Wow, I didn't mean... Are you..." she trailed off. "I'm sorry."
Ash pulled a chair away from the table and sat down. "So you came all the way to Celadon," he changed subjects, "to talk to one of your agents? Couldn't you have sent someone to take care of that?"
"There's more to it than that, of course," Janine piped up. "I might also be following up on reports of Celadon's beloved Mayor Vicar being linked to contaminated drug sales in Fuchsia. When that turns out to be true it means I'll have to have a chat with him."
"Vicar's in a hole he's never getting out of," said Ash. "Erika's got him now."
"Oh shit," said the girl. "Well that's probably worse than what I was going to do to him. All that leaves for me up here is Saffron."
Ash glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "What's in Saffron?"
"Silph Company," Janine answered. "Among other things."
"And what does Silph have that you want?" asked Ash.
Hesitating, a thin grin creasing her lips, Janine reached up and fiddles with the edge of her hood. "Several things," she answered. "Not the least of them being, potentially, information on why a certain organization is so focused on certain cave outside of Cerulean City."
"And how did you figure all this out?" asked Ash, uncrossing his arms and turning to face her.
Janine grinned. "Information is my weapon," she said. "And I might have gotten lucky in that my f- Koga left some of his correspondences with Team Rocket behind when he bugged out. I've been decoding messages for a while and it's paid off." She paused as Ash went quiet. "So..." the girl in the hoodie began. "I was actually thinking that we, I mean you, Brock, and I, might all travel to Saffron together... since you're heading to all the gyms and Saffron's is the closest now, I mean. It'll be just like when you guys were in Fuchsia except that-"
"Brock is going back to Pewter," said Ash.
"What?" Janine pushed herself up to her feet. "Why? What's his problem?"
"His leg's shot, he'd be a liability," Ash shrugged. "And he's got a family to look after so I didn't want him to come with me."
"You can't go alone," the girl barked. "That's just dumb."
"Brock might not like it," said Ash, "but he's got too much riding on him staying alive to come with me." The young trainer put his hands in his pocket and looked at the floor. "Besides, he'll have plenty he can do from Pewter."
Janine shook her head. "Regardless," she said, "we're both going that direction and we're on the same side with the same goals. Why don't we travel together: safety in numbers and all that."
Ash looked over at her and went quiet for a moment. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," he said.
"Why not?" asked Janine. "It seems obvious to me."
Ash shook his head. "It's going to be a dangerous trip," said the trainer. "And people tend to die around me."
"I'm not too worried about the odds of survival," said the girl in the hoodie, "for somewhat obvious reasons."
"Oh," Ash breathed. "Sorry, I forgot. How are you doing?"
"It hasn't killed me yet," shrugged Janine.
Ash re-crossed his arms and looked back at the floor. "Hell with it," he sighed. "As soon as I finish putting things away, I'm leaving. If you think you can keep up then I can't stop you from coming along."
A broad smirk settled on Janine's face and she put a hand on her hip. "The question is," she said, "do you think you can keep up?"