WHEN ASH THUNDERED THROUGH TO THE kitchen, he did so thinking Gary maybe had an accident; jamming his finger in one of the drawer fronts, or something. Somehow, finding that he had in fact done this to himself was all the more painful to consider. Where a glimmer of relief briefly twinkled, he found himself immediately swallowed up by a new breed of fear entirely. Gary wasn’t just hurt – it looked like he was shivering apart at every seam – the immediate sight split Ash’s heart into pieces.
Nonetheless, Ash would conquer this fear once again, like he had done so many times before; though his fragile heart ached to consider just what may have been running through Gary’s mind, he still felt an obligation to remain steadfast in the face of it. Carefully, he dipped his chin lower to rest gently on top of Gary’s bowed head, a new sense of purpose driving his broad arms to gingerly wrap themselves around Gary’s suddenly so very vulnerable form. An unsure hand found the back of his head, that familiarly unruly shock of soft brown hair tangling between his fingers so readily as he carefully ran his thumb across Gary’s scalp, back and forth, back and forth…
“ It’s okay – it’s okay, ” he soothed, first caring only to worry about softening whatever blows Gary was probably swinging at himself internally. “ I’ve got you, I’m here… ”
If anything could ever shatter Ash’s illusions of personal suffering, after all, it was the suffering of anyone else.
“ Course you belong here, silly, ” he said softly, closing his eyes as he ever so subtly canted his head downward; for all of its comforting familiarity, Gary’s scent still found a way to completely envelope him. “ Who else’s gonna scare the shit outta me like you do, huh? ” He added,, the calming tone to his voice strained in the fallout of that initial adrenaline hit. True, though, who would? Exactly what could scare the mighty Ash Ketchum any more? Loneliness? Loss? Instinctively, he held the other a little tighter at the thought, an almost insecure clinging. What could possibly make Gary feel like he didn’t belong here? The question occurred to him as a burning one, a worrisome one, prompting a rush of all manner of horrified thoughts of Gary leaving again, Gary isolating himself, Gary generally not wanting to be around anymore…
A lump formed in his throat, one he swallowed down with difficulty and some seldom seen fortitude; he had to remind himself that this wasn’t all about his fears, no matter how all-consuming they proved. Carefully, he shifted his hand from Gary’s hair to his jawline, instead cupping his hot, tear-streaked face in place. Where has this Gary been? He thought to himself, vaguely wondering just how long Gary had been biting down on all this – he hadn’t seen him openly weep like that since they were teenagers. Maybe. In time, Ash just had to force himself to make peace with the grey mass of emotional inertia that Gary had grown into, but maybe he was wrong. After all this time, he still hoped, maybe he was wrong.
“ Where’s all this comin’ from, Gary…? ”
To have the feeling of arms around him was comforting, but all too foreign to him. The closeness of such a gesture wasn’t something he commonly welcomed. Yet, the fingers in his hair brought him some ounce of comfort through the turmoil of his own thoughts. Gary shook with the intensity of his sorrow --- shaking like a scared deerling. Ash’s voice was all the comfort he wanted and more. Somewhere inside of him, he craved this sort of attention though he would never quite admit that.
What formed in his throat was something between a scoff and a grunt in response to Ash’s halfhearted attempt at humor. “You’re good enough at scaring yourself.” He murmured as he reached up to latch his fingers into his shirt. He could feel the warmth underneath the fabric and instinctively moved a bit closer. In a way, this is where he felt safe. Years ago, they weren’t so different --- things like that weren’t meant to last. Ash grew like a tree while he himself never quite bulked up.
Where would he be if he didn’t belong here? There was a place in the world he’d be right now if it weren’t for events that were still unknown to him. He tried to bury his face away though his cheek was guided into the palm of the same man he was scared of facing just moments ago. Torn to wanting to push away and run, he forced himself to stay steady. His mouth hung open and he couldn’t come to the words he wanted to speak. Were there words for something like this?
The dull throb in his head was a sign that he was already over his usually capacity for crying. When he did cry, it was short and reserved... far away from the eyes of anyone else. Now, he was truly feeling the brunt of it all. His heart was still racing and tried to rub what was left off his face opposite the side Ash was holding steady.
“I’unn---no.” He exhaled carefully, attempting to slow the tears. It was (sort of) working. His glasses were still displaced and he was making no attempt to replace them. The less he could see right now, the better. “It’s complicated. I’m--- I don’t---- why am I here?” He was asking the most vague of questions will no base to go from. Ash didn’t know his inner conflict with identity. He didn’t know the days he stayed up comparing photos of he and his grandfather. He didn’t know how long he searched for any hint of a parent or sibling that he’d never know if he had. “Your mom... you always had your mom. I’ve always had gramps--- only gramps.”
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