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Thread: Shooting the Moon; Pokeshipping. rated T

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    Cool Shooting the Moon; Pokeshipping. rated T

    Thanks to Rave the Rich who submitted a New Years Pokeshipping fic, I was inspired to write my own and take this opportunity to write a sequel to the fic pair by adrenaline. Going with adrenaline’s idea of titling the fics with song titles, I’m going to do the same for this one : ) Here are the two fics, I suggest you read both before reading this: 1 2
    Rated T for mild swearing and one drug reference.
    ~~

    New Years was supposed to be a time of fellowship and joy, a time of good feeling and togetherness. Ash Ketchum seemed to have missed the memo.

    “Only two hours left till midnight, Bob!” said the TV announcer to his coworker, “Got anything special to say to all the viewers?”

    “Drink a lot!” cheered the other, laughing heartily while downing his champagne glass.

    Ash snorted to himself quietly and asked the bartender for another round of vodka shots. What a nice way to be spending New Years Eve, drinking down one’s sorrows at Jack’s Tavern.

    “You should really watch your intake, Ketchum,” noted Jack the bartender as he poured Ash a couple more glasses.

    Ash shrugged and began drinking down the cups slowly, wondering how many more it would take for him to feel dizzy enough to go home and knock out.

    “Ketchum?! ASH KETCHUM?” Ash looked up at the sound of his name and nodded at a group of Pokemon battle fans that usually sat in a group around the TV cheering on their favorite battler day in and day out.

    “You never told us you were THE Ash Ketchum, kid,” another said in a slur, trying to drink down his beer.

    “You never asked,” Ash mumbled and returned to his shots when he suddenly received a hard clap on the back, coughing out the vodka loudly.

    “Hey Jack, another 5 cups full of beer please, oh and an extra large one for my man Ash Ketchum here!” The rather large man that had clapped Ash on the back handed money to Jack and winked at the ex-Pokemon trainer.

    “Come on little man, you’re going to count down the New Year with us while watching the best Pokemon battles ever on television!”

    “I—er, really shouldn’t,” Ash attempted to come up with the best excuse he could but it was useless, two of the men grabbed Ash by the arms and dragged him to their table, Jack laughing sheepishly to himself.

    “Don’t be silly! You were one of the greatest out there. I’m pretty sure one of your battles is gonna be on!” A random person had changed the channel and the screen was now broadcasting a 2003 battle between an Onyx and a Charmander.

    “That’s exactly what I’m dreading,” Ash muttered in a low voice.

    But it was useless; he was now sitting stuck between two leatherjacket wearing men smelling of beer and cigarettes. So much for self-pity today.
    --

    New Years was supposed to be a time of fellowship and joy, a time of good feeling and togetherness. Misty Waterflower seemed to have missed the memo.

    “Only two hours left till midnight, Bob!” said the TV announcer to his coworker, “Got anything special to say to all the viewers?”

    “Drink a lot!” cheered the other, laughing heartily while downing his champagne glass.

    Misty snorted to herself quietly and petted her young niece’s head softly as April slept on the redhead’s lap. Idiots.

    “Thanks for watching April, I really appreciate it,” Daisy grinned at her younger sister, ignoring the loud honking coming from downstairs.

    “You know I love spending time with the kid, she reminds me of a younger me,” Misty shrugged, nodding at the door, “shouldn’t you be going with Danny to that uber romantic place—what’s it called again? Jack’s Tavern?”

    Daisy glared at Misty and punched her arm lightly before heading toward the door, “you’ll understand sacrifice when you get married one day.”

    “Yeah, like that’ll happen!” Misty called after her and returned to the television.
    --

    “And Charmander takes a critical hit, ending the battle!” The television announcer exclaimed as the screen faded into #20 on the Top Fifty Best Battles of the Indigo, Orange, Johto, Hoenn and Sinnoh Leagues.

    Ash took a small sip of his beer and bit his tongue at the bitter taste. He was really getting sick of these battles and hoped with all his heart that a particular battle wouldn’t make it into—

    “Hey look Ketchum! It’s you! Wow, do you look like a proud little punk!!” The group of men cheered loudly and took turns punching Ash roughly on the arm, bruising the young adult slightly.

    While Ash rubbed his arm, through sunken eyes he saw himself with a bright, hopeful expression staring back at him, a small Pikachu at his side, waving madly at the cheering crowds, chest jutted out proudly.

    “The battle will begin on a rock and water field! And now we’ll see which Pokemon Ash Ketchum and Drake will choose!” said the announcer loudly.

    “Oh… crap.” Ash put his head down, attempting to drown out the sound of his own voice ordering his Pokemon to attack.
    --

    “And Charmander takes a critical hit, ending the battle!” The television announcer exclaimed as the screen faded into #20 on the Top Fifty Best Battles of the Indigo, Orange, Johto and Hoenn Leagues.

    Misty took a small sip of her mineral water and sighed loudly, wondering why in the world she had decided to change the channel. She wasn’t really in the mood to watch a Pokemon battle right now; it was too… memory triggering. A small beeping noise sent her whirling out of her thoughts, reminding her to put April to bed. Misty moved April’s head slowly from her lap to the couch and stood, leaning forward to take the child in her arms. Just as she did this, the sound of someone’s name froze her movements.

    “The battle will begin on a rock and water field! And now we’ll see which Pokemon Ash Ketchum and Drake will choose!” said the announcer loudly.

    Her unwilling eyes met those of a young trainer from Pallet Town, gaze blazing from determination to win, his small green-gloved hand balled into a fist. As the scene changed to the opponent’s point of view, Misty picked up April and carried the child quickly to her bedroom, silently yelling at her own tear-filled eyes.

    --
    “Woah kid, that’s intense!” Commented one of the men at Ash’s side as his younger self watched the giant explosion between Gengar and Lapras in awe.

    While everyone wondered with anticipation as to the results of the match, Ash simply recalled mentally what happened to each one of his Pokemon. What he remembered most clearly, though, was the look on Misty’s face when he won. The look of approval, but not only that. It was a look of joy. Happiness to see her best friend win. The touch of her hand on his arm, waving it back and forth madly with pride. Ash shut his eyes to keep the tears from falling and took another large gulp of beer. Time passed. Seconds, minutes. Ash tried desperately to shut out the noise of his voice ordering his Pokemon this way and that way. By the time he had called his final Pokemon out, Ash couldn’t stand it anymore. He slammed his hand on the table loudly, causing the men to stare at him pitifully.

    “It’s okay little man, you’re still a champ to us,” said one while the others agreed with him in quiet voices.

    Ash tried to smile at them and stood, biding them farewell; he could take no more of this madness. His battle days were over. Finished. As he stuffed his hands deep into his jacket pockets, the sound of the door opening caught his attention. He raised his eyes slowly, heart pounding, wondering if maybe—no. It was just some fat man, holding his girlfriend or wife by the waist, her face covered by a scarf from the cold, blond hair sticking out every which way. Ash lowered his eyes once more and went over to Jack, grasping his palm firmly, thanking the bartender with his eyes. Ash then turned back and headed to the door when he heard his name once more. Not turning, he simply stood, listening.

    “Ash Ketchum?” Why did that voice sound so familiar? “Is that Ash Ketchum on the screen?”

    “Yeah lady, you a fan?” one of the men asked the blond woman who shook her head, scoffing.

    “Why would I like such an idiot? I heard he hurt every single one of his friends and abandoned them for no good reason. A pathetic loser. Who knows what he’s up to these days? Probably sleeping around with prostitutes and doing drugs on the side—”

    Ash couldn’t take anymore. He angrily ripped open the tavern door, scaring a few people sitting quietly near him, and let it slam behind him, the cold enveloping his face. He kicked the snow angrily and began walking quickly toward his apartment on the other side of town, not really sure of what he would do there.

    Inside the tavern, Daisy continued speaking, “—why, my sister knew Ash Ketchum personally, practically in love with the guy, was his childhood best friend. And what did he do to her? Avoided all contact and disappeared. His friend Brock who knows his location won’t even tell her! What kind of a ‘Pokemon Master’ is that? A low-life who doesn’t deserve any love, that’s who.”

    The Pokemon Battle fan that had requested Ash to sit with them looked at her through glaring eyes, “I really hope you didn’t just cause a suicide.”

    “Why would you say that?”

    “The guy that just slammed the door; that was Ash Ketchum.”
    --

    Misty wondered if she had become a masochist. Here she was, watching a Pokemon battle between her former best friend and Drake, feeling ready to ram a sword through her chest at the sight of the boy’s face. As Gengar and Lapras caused a giant explosion, Misty felt it was time to refill her glass of water. She headed to the kitchen and stood there, pouring the pitcher of water, watching it fill the glass. Doing so, her mind began to wander again.

    It was New Years and here she was, watching a Pokemon battle. How pathetic was that? And the battle made her want to cry. Was that really what one should be doing on New Years Eve? This was supposed to be a time of love and resolutions and—

    “Crap!” Misty realized she had let the cup overflow and the water was now dripping all over the floor.

    She grabbed a paper towel and began cleaning up the mess just as the announcer called the winner of the battle. Misty couldn’t help but look up at the scene she had embedded in her brain. There she was, ten years old, holding the arm of the champion, waving it back and forth as the crowds cheered. And his face—had it always been like that?—staring wildly at the audience, most likely unable to believe he had won first place in something as great as a league before.

    Misty didn’t know what had come over her or why but the look of Ash’s young face and the satisfaction in her own caused her to get up and run to the nearest clock.

    She checked the wall clock in the living room and realized there was one hour left to midnight. Misty walked quickly to the telephone and dialed the number she had long since memorized. She reached for a chair and attempted to stop her shaking hands as the phone rang and rang.

    “Please pick up, please pick up,” she murmured softly.

    “Hello?” the sound of his voice made Misty smile.

    “Hey, Brocko!”

    “Oh, hey Misty, what are you doing at Daisy’s house—this is her number, right? Shouldn’t you be out with your sister and her husband or something?” Brock shouted over the noise in his house, most likely his siblings getting excited for the count down.

    “I—I was watching April,” Misty admitted, wondering how she could ask him.

    “Oh, well then why don’t you just bring her over here? We have plenty of room for you two!” Brock laughed and paused, waiting for her acceptance.

    “Er, she’s um, sleeping, Brock,” Misty made a strong emphasis in his name.

    He was silent for a second and grew stern, “What do you need Misty?”

    “I—I need—” Misty gulped loudly and closed her eyes, speaking slowly, “I need his home address Brock.”

    “Misty,” Brock pleaded quietly, “Come on, you know I can’t tell you. He—he asked me not to. I can’t just break a prom—”

    “Brock!” Misty stopped him angrily, “this isn’t about some stupid man-to-man promise! You don’t understand how much I need that address right now! I’m about to go insane, Brock, I—”

    “You watched the battle on television, didn’t you?” He asked knowingly.

    She sighed loudly and looked up at the ceiling, “how could I not?”

    There was a long pause as Misty held her breath and Brock contemplated the situation.

    “If he gets mad at me, I’ll tell him you forced me at gunpoint.”

    Misty couldn’t help but laugh out loud and nodded, “that’s fine Brock, I understand.”

    “You’re at Daisy’s right?”

    “We established this when you realized I called from her phone.”

    “He’s in the apartment building left of hers.”

    Misty’s heart froze, “you’re serious?”

    Brock chuckled to himself, “you and Ash are hilarious sometimes. You’ve been walking distance from each other all along and still too stubborn to notice. It’s room 403A. Good luck and don’t kill him, please. Oh and by the way…”

    “Yeah?”

    “Happy New Year, Misty.”

    The line went dead and Misty set down the receiver slowly, the number she had just been told etched permanently in her mind. She stood and brushed herself off, attempting to keep her cool.

    “You got this, Misty, you got this,” she breathed in and out slowly, “all you have to do is go over there and—okay, stop talking, just do it.”

    Misty rushed to the couch and grabbed her coat, flinging it on over her shorts and yellow t-shirt. With one glance to make sure April was still sleeping, Misty was out the door and down the stairs, heart pounding in her ears. It was now or never.
    --

    Why was Ash Ketchum in his living room, staring at a chair, looking so frustrated and determined at the same time? Probably for the same reason a rope hung from a pipe on the ceiling, one end tied to the floor and the other tied in the shape of a noose. Ash sighed loudly and put his head in his hands. He was really going to do this.

    He was going to kill himself.

    What would people say when they’d find out? Who would find him here? Perhaps the landlord, in hopes of kicking the boy out of his building finally. Perhaps it would be Brock, hoping to go out and have a drink with Ash after so much time. Perhaps his body would be left here to rot for a few days before anyone would bother looking for him. Would there be an article about him in the Daily Tribune? Ash Ketchum: From Fame to Failure; how a star fell from the sky. Something along those lines, he guessed sheepishly.

    Would Misty find out? Would she even remember him? Would she care? For all he knew, she could be happily married, too busy to care for low-lifes like him. Why had he never bothered to ask Brock more about her? Had he really been that much of a chicken? The only conversation they ever had about Misty usually went like this:

    “So… how’s…?”

    “Misty? She’s fine.”

    “Oh.”

    Nothing more, nothing less. Why did this all sound so easy at first? Ash shut his eyes tightly and straightened up. No more wasting time, no more doubts. This was it and there was nothing that would stop him.

    Ash slowly got on top of the chair and stared at the large loop that he had created with the rope. His shaking hands grasped it firmly and pulled it toward him, making sure that it wouldn’t break with his weight. Fortunately, he had tied it tightly enough.

    It was now or never.
    --

    Misty rushed out into the cold, almost falling back from the burst of freezing air that hit her as she flew out the apartment building door. Unable to think straight, she trudged quickly through the snow, ignoring her frozen legs. Almost there. Just a few more steps. She looked up at the building to the left of her sister’s and reached the entrance only to find that it was locked. Cursing silently, she backed up to see if there was another way in. There HAD to be another way in. Thankfully, she remembered that all the buildings had a back door.

    Misty rushed over to the back and grasped the door handle, wrenching it open with a force she rarely used. It flew open and sighed out warm air, allowing her body to heat up again.

    “Come on Misty, just get to the fourth floor,” she rushed to the elevator, pressing the button over and over until she realized it was broken, “dammit!”

    Misty ran to the nearest stairway and began hoisting herself up the stairs, grasping the railing tightly and skipping steps in hopes of getting to the apartment in time. She flew past the second, third… And finally reached the fourth floor. She rushed into the silent hallway, scrunching up her face at the smell of something particularly unpleasant.

    “Alright, here goes… 401A… 401B… 403A…” She stood silently in front of the battered looking door, her whole body shaking.

    This all seemed so easy at the beginning. Just rush to his apartment, knock on the door, see him in all his glory and be swept off her feet and… What if he wasn’t there? What if he didn’t feel this way? What if all along she had just been his best friend and he just wanted to be left alone? What if—

    Misty looked down at her wrist watch and saw the time. Ignoring her whirling thoughts, she moved forward and placed her hand on the door, ready to knock.

    Ten minutes to midnight.
    --

    Ash gulped loudly and looked at the clock. It was ten minutes to midnight. Now was a good time as any to ‘drop the ball’. A nice, dramatic ending to his pathetic life. He ran his hands over the scratchy rope, knowing it would suffocate him. He closed his eyes and brought the loop over his head, binding it softly around his neck.

    How the hell did people do this so easily? All he had to do was shove the chair to the side and it would be over. Just push with one foot and—

    There was a soft rapping on the door, knocking Ash out of his mental argument. He sighed loudly and looked up at the ceiling. This wasn’t going to be an easy, quiet death was it? Ignore the door! Just do it! What did it matter? The person at the door would soon find him hanged. All the better for him, he wouldn’t have to worry about being found! It was probably the landlord wanting some rent. He would leave when he realized Ash was supposedly out. Ash paused in his contemplation and listened, hoping the person had left.

    Silence.

    Alright, let’s give this another try. He cleared his throat and stood on his tip toes, ready to push himself off when—

    There was once again a loud knocking on the door. He sighed loudly in frustration and glared at whoever was on the other side, mentally condemning them to burn eternally. Undoing the rope, he stepped down, massaging his itchy throat. He left the chair and noose where they were, not bothering to hide anything and headed to the door.

    Five minutes to midnight.
    --

    Misty knocked softly at first, pausing to see if someone would open the door. There was complete silence, though she thought she heard low muttering from the other side.

    “Come on Misty, time to get going, he’s not there,” she looked down at her feet sadly and turned to go.

    Yet something wouldn’t let her. Something told her to knock again, harder this time, to demand entry if she must. She had taken her time to come over here in the freezing weather and that idiot had the nerve to ignore her knocking instead of being a gentleman? Typical Ash. Well she wouldn’t take that. Misty turned back around and knocked harder this time, determined to make someone—anyone open the door.

    “Come on, come on, open up,” Misty muttered, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

    Her watch read 11:55. This made Misty even more anxious so she knocked again until she heard a clicking and the door opened slowly. Her breath caught in her throat as she was faced with none other than Ash Ketchum… Who was looking a bit frustrated down at the floor.

    “Whoever you are, I’ll have you know you’re interrupting something very—” He looked up to see none other than Misty Waterflower staring at him with a shocked expression.

    His face soon mirrored hers as they stared at each other, not saying a word. It was funny how so much time and so much need to explain things left them both utterly speechless.

    “I—” they both started and grinned slightly, “no you—sorry—please—”

    They chuckled softly and looked at the floor uncomfortably.

    “So…” Ash began, realizing how awkward of a situation he was now in, “I didn’t plan to see you—”

    “I wasn’t planning on being here,” Misty quickly finished for him.

    He looked at her, brown eyes meeting blue and they seemed to unconsciously draw closer to each other. Time passed as the two simply stood, staring at each other, wondering what in the world they would even begin to say to each other.

    “Misty,” her name sounded so amazing on his lips, as if he tasted chocolate for the very first time, “I can’t begin to say how—”

    “SHH!!” Misty held her hand up quickly and looked down at her watch, hearing the countdown from Ash’s TV—he hadn’t even realized it was still on.

    “Five more seconds till midnight,” she stared up at him once again and smiled widely.

    “I don’t know what that has to do with—” he froze as she stepped closer, her hands reaching slowly for his face.

    “Three… Two…” The television’s countdown seemed to disappear as Misty pulled Ash’s face to hers and took his lips in hers softly.

    Time froze as Ash pulled her to him, not making the kiss too intense in hopes that this would last a little longer. Misty then pulled away and grinned up at Ash’s bewildered face.

    “Happy New Year,” she grinned at him and let go of his face, unable to contain her joy.

    Ash rubbed his head awkwardly and laughed slowly, “You come here after all these years with no explanation except to kiss me at midnight?”

    “Is that a problem?” She turned red when she realized what she had just done, but tried her best to not make it so awkward.

    “Nope,” Ash laughed again and looked behind him at the noose, “thank goodness you did or else I would’ve killed myself!”

    Misty’s jaw fell open at his ease with admitting this, “What?!”

    Ash simply laughed again and grabbed her face, kissing her softly once more. Forgetting her shock, Misty wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer in the kiss.

    Letting go, he said breathlessly, “happy new year.”

    Outside the door he stands, his head in his hands and his heart in his throat” – Shooting the Moon by OK Go
    Last edited by XxM!styxX; 30th December 2009 at 5:33 AM.
    Pokeshipper
    (n.): Because we don't forget 5five
    seasons, 4four cameos, 3three supporters,
    2two gifts, and 1one departure worth of emotions.

  2. #2
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    I loved everything about this, I kinda don't know where to begin. First off, I appreciate the story in general. I couldn't have written a better sequel myself. I noticed all the continuity from my other two stories too. You weren't kidding when you said you read each one thirty times, lol. Everything was spot on. You managed to keep true to the content I made, but adding your unique twist while doing it. Excellent Job.

    I'm glad you structured it the way you did too -- jumping back and forth, keeping things sporadic...very reminiscent of LOST.

    For a second, I was a little scared because my two stories had a lot of angst. Not a happy ending in sight. As Ash was about to hang himself I was afraid you were continuing that train of thought, but I'm glad you didn't. Really glad. Misty saved his life, and I think in the process she saved herself too. I'm skipping all over the place, so bear with me...My favorite parts was Ash at the bar, being forced to watch a show about himself with a bunch of obnoxious guys. Misty's conversation with Brock...and of course the ending kiss.

    Thanks for the awesome read. It was always bugging me that I left those two stories open like that, and how I made it so...gloomy. Thanks for taking the reigns and running with them.

    I've never listened to the song before today, but I do like OK GO. Good group.
    " r u n y o u c l e v e r b o y . . . a n d r e m e m b e r. "

  3. #3
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    I'm so glad you liked it T_T I was scared you wouldn't approved lol. I double checked like, EVERYTHING to make sure it went with your fic. Ash got a little silly toward the end but I tried really hard. The ending was sort of thrown together because I didn't want him killing himself! DX lol it took forever and a day staring at my laptop screen, trying to come up with a good ending.
    Believe me, if you come up with a better ending let me know and i'll totally edit it.
    Thanks for your approval
    @about OK Go. I don't like the ending of the song tbh, its a little bumpy-all loud and awkward. it should've ended on a softer note. lol eh useless comment.
    TY <3
    Pokeshipper
    (n.): Because we don't forget 5five
    seasons, 4four cameos, 3three supporters,
    2two gifts, and 1one departure worth of emotions.

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