Hi! It's me again :) I would like to request another Ash comforting Misty flashfic. This time I imagined Misty having a panic attack. Hope the idea appeals to you! And take your time, no worries :)
[Hah, perhaps unfortunately, after I received this request and gave it a whopping five minutes of thought, I suddenly felt really inspired to just go for it.]
She was floating rather blissfully in a pool of water. Small waves lapped softly against her, pushing her rather loftily to and fro as she blinked up straight into a bright sun that, despite it’s shine, didn’t seem to hurt her vision. A multitude of water-type Pokemon were swimming around her, some diving under or leaping over, just everywhere… and she accepted this rather passively even not knowing whose Pokemon they were or where they’d come from.
It was a rather pleasant dream overall… until it wasn’t.
What’s…?
Suddenly she was sinking down, the sun fading away, taking its light and - she assumed though she couldn’t say she felt it - warmth with it. The Pokemon, no more than vague shadows representing familiarity, had all but vanished except for one.
She was gripping her Staryu by its top point as it dove deeper into inky, cool abyss, leading her towards… something. She was looking for something, desperate to save it, but she could barely see her Pokemon plunging through its element a foot or two in front of her. How could she possibly find…?
What’s happening…?
Training instincts told her to conserve oxygen, but her lips flew open anyway as if trying to call out to her target. Bubbles and breath and a single word escaped her, in such clear articulation she knew it shouldn’t have been possible.
“Ash!”
She was looking for Ash, her best friend. He’d fallen from so far, so fast… He was sinking! Was he even conscious…? She remembered now, at least that much, but the anchoring question of why seemed impossible to answer at present. She had to find him!
Where was he? How much farther would she have to go? How could she possibly hope to find him in this blackness? And how far had she gone without needing to take a breath…?
And yet Staryu continued to faithfully carry her onward in their mission.
She had reached a peak of lucidity just in time for an object slightly larger than her hand to float hazily by. Without concern, she snatched it out of the murk.
It was a cap she had seen on his head near constantly in recent days, her heart plummeting in breathless fear and panic at the sight of it in her grasp and him nowhere in sight. She didn’t think about the insensibility behind calling out to him again.
“Ash!” The shriek of her own unnerved horror threatened to deafen her as well as her Pokemon. “Ash, where are you?!”
“Misty, wake up!”
Her eyes snapped open, wiry muscles rigid as a damp sheen clung to her brow and neck. Fists clenching tightly around her bedroll, she leaped into a sitting position, at this point realizing she hadn’t taken a single breath since waking, inhaling deeply in response.
“I… What…?” she whispered, vocal chords weak and throat dry. Craning her neck, wild gaze taking in her surroundings, she was met with Ash Ketchum and his partner Pikachu staring her up and down looking reasonable taken aback from beside her.
“Uh… you okay?” the young man asked after a few seconds, leaning a little closer. She couldn’t answer, fingers wringing their way around the hem of her sleeping bag at the mere question. “You looked like you were having a nightmare.”
A nightmare…?
“Pikachupi, kachu pika?”
“Y - yeah, we were worried. Glad you’re up now though.” And, looking slightly bashful, averting his gaze, Ash added, “It… kinda sounded like you were calling out my name. But…”
Almost any other time, the redheaded teenage girl would have read something into how flustered he looked at the thought of her dreaming about him. She also would have had the clear head to feel self-conscious over an Ash donned in nothing more than boxer shorts and a bandage around his scalp, which was currently the case. All the sight did now was remind her of…
“I think… about earlier…” she muttered, heart leaping up into her throat, stomach churning before icing over. “Or… I guess it was yesterday…”
“Oh.” It was hard to tell by the dim light of the low fire but his face seemed a little paler.
Yesterday, when Team Rocket had last attacked them. It had been all of six or so hours ago; barely dusk. They had used their tricks to steal Pikachu as well as Ash’s belt lined with the rest of his Pokeballs before taking off in their latest hot air balloon.
In her effort to assist, Misty had released Staryu to sabotage their escape but her precious water-type’s rapid spin had only been able to cut all of two ropes tying the villains’ basket to their balloon. One rope had been secured again by the Rocket gang and tied slipshod once more while Ash, in furious pursuit, had grabbed the other one before they’d lifted too high from the ground, immediately carried up and away with them.
Misty had seen him try to climb it while she ran to catch up, seen also Team Rocket’s collected anger and alarm as they attempted to shake him loose before Jessie had released one of her own Pokemon to force the teenage boy to let go.
Ash hadn’t much chance at evading; it was hard to do so when he was busy trying to keep his grip on what was steadily becoming a literal life line, Pikachu calling out to him from where he was trapped a good twenty or so feet overhead.
Even from her slowly increasing distance, Misty heard the blast that was Jessie’s Gourgeist releasing their seed bomb. The attack descended, exploding as it approached her friend. Ash was shouting, slipping, flailing, a second explosive impact and he was suddenly falling from the sky as her heart stopped–
No more playing softball!
He’d hit the body of water that had (luckily) drifted below him with a sickening smack on his back, sunk quickly below the surface. It all happened so swiftly.
Gyarados appeared in a familiar flash of red and roared, his trainer commanding him to immediately leap and bite through Team Rocket’s balloon, tearing the fabric instantly and disabling the criminal trio’s getaway. So violent, so much, so fast.
In the meantime, Misty grabbed a hold of Staryu, inhaled deeply and held it, both diving to search for their friend… So dark… So gone… So quickly…
“Hey, are you okay?” Ash abruptly asked her, voice sounding distant and hollow, reverberating in her eardrums, the sound challenged by her roaring, pounding heartbeat.
“I…”
“Misty, what’s wrong?” He sounded a little more anxious now during round two, and she was surprised to vaguely notice his hand around her wrist, though she couldn’t feel it for some reason.
“I don’t…” She couldn’t breathe, response reduced to a throaty gasp. Her throat was coated in plastic and suffocating. Her skin was burning from cold somehow, she needed water–
–he was sinking so deep down–
–and air–
–holding her breath, but she would top out after one hundred and eighty seconds max and how much time had passed already–
–sweat was pouring from her forehead, her neck, she was either numb or aching, on fire, her gaze vacant, and it scared him if he was being honest–
“–Misty, what’s going on–?”
“Pikachupi!”
–where was he, where is he, how big is this place… his hat is in her free hand, her grip on Staryu stiffening, she would have to sacrifice the hat if, or when, she found him–
–so many times, this had happened too many times already since knowing him, what if she doesn’t get to him quick enough, what if he–
“–Hey!”
His shout was enough to momentarily clear her head. Perhaps he was able to sense that fact because he took advantage, and Misty felt the shocking impression of cool hands resting firmly against her flushed cheeks. Then the two were eye to eye and her wave of despair and doom and panic briefly subsided.
“Listen, Mist, you’re not there, you’re here. Pay attention to me right now!” he told her forcibly, and she felt him tug a little uncomfortably, her neck yanking, so she wouldn’t lose focus. “Look at me, okay? Can you do that?”
She could barely hear him, gaze flickering between the fire light glowing in his eyes to his fringe and lashes, to his cheeks… It was all him though… She could… She could do this!
“You need to take a breath! C’mon, we’ve got this, just do what I do, look,” after which he did indeed lead by example. She watched his chest rise and fall, his eyes fluttering momentarily closed and lips pursed barely open as he exhaled.
She gurgled and choked, blinked away the white hot tears at the corner of her burning eyes, halfheartedly shook her head in defeat.
“It’s okay, c’mon, we’ll try again together, now in through your nose,” he coached her, slowly initiating his own attempt and waiting until he heard her copy it before moving on, “and then out through your mouth… You got it!” he applauded her, “Okay, and again… Let’s do it a few more times…”
It seemed forever and yet also instantaneous for the symptoms to subside, and she did what she could to bear in mind what Ash was saying and doing to tether her to the present.
“–take a breath–”
His hands on her cheeks…
“–Pay attention to me right now–”
His shoulders rising and falling…
“–we’ll try again together–”
His face overtaking her vision, mere inches from hers, collarbone connecting to his bare chest…
Ash wasn’t sure what emotional response was most prevalent a few minutes later when his redheaded friend, still trembling a little but no longer writhing and choking, maneuvered to cover his hands with her own, both pairs now held against her cheeks. Part of him was pleased, it seemed to be her first conscious and calm move since… whatever had happened. Another part of him was loath to admit how flustered he felt as her somehow inconceivably soft fingers splayed over his own rougher ones.
“S - so… what happened?” he had the nerve to eventually ask her, though he could still barely look her in the eyes. Her current object of focus was Pikachu curled up in her lap while she patted his short fur coat. The teen boy noticed it offered a pleasant distraction, all things considered.
“Dunno,” she croaked, cleared her throat, tried to elaborate. “That’s… never happened before that I know of. It’s like… I was having that nightmare, I think it was based off what happened… y’know, yesterday… But then I couldn’t stop thinking of it… Then I was feeling it, like it was happening all over again, and I was… thinking of you, losing you…” She didn’t give the flush on her cheeks the chance to settle, continuing with her description. “Y’know, you worry me too much, Mr. Pokemon Master!” she finished rather harshly, faltering in her grounding activity.
“Mwah, wait a sec, now it’s my fault?!”
“Of course it is, you dummy! I mean, you shouldn’t have done that! We would have gotten your Pokemon back eventually! We always do!”
Rather than risk a rebuttal that would lead to another panic attack, he stared her down before heaving a deep sigh and relenting.
“Sorry… It’s second nature by now.”
She thought about asking him if he meant his self-sacrificing nature or worrying her to near death but decided against it. They’d been through enough by now and it was only roughly three in the morning!
“Y’know Ash, I can admit after all the time we’ve known each other… that I really like the kind of person you are,” she iterated almost affectionately instead, “You’re passionate and considerate, at least when you wanna be,” she made a point to add. “But sometimes… I really wish you’d take a little better care of yourself. Every time something like… like yesterday happens… I worry it’s the last time I’ll ever see you.”
The… last time? he thought, not quite understanding immediately what she’d been getting at… Oh, there it was. He hummed under his breath, brow furrowed, had gotten to the point of opening his mouth without a clue as to what he’d say before she interrupted him.
“Well, if there’s anything I know for sure it’s that there’s no changing you… so I guess for now at least I’ll have to do my best to support you.”
“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” The response was so simple but he honestly had no idea what else he could say. Perhaps it was something for another time.
“I mean, after your help earlier, I guess I owe you, right?”
But Ash was briefly overwhelmed by the flashback of his regaining consciousness with blurred vision on the hard ground the evening before, head aching and blood dripping from his temple, Misty kneeling over him soaking wet and shaking from the brisk chill, practically crying even as she smiled in relief at the sight of him coming to.
His gratitude and… something he couldn’t quite place swept through him and swelled up, filling every ounce of his person as he took in the sight of his best friend sitting at his side.
“Please, Mist,” he told her peaceably in utter confidence, “it was the least I could do for you.”
[There were a couple details i left out because of the word count limit. Ash was down to boxers because he didn’t plan ahead, simple as that. His only outfit was soaked after falling into the water so yeah, it’s meant to be air-drying. Misty is fully dressed because she did plan ahead. Lol. Ash also received some cuts and stuff from the minor explosives and Pikachu escaped his cage when Gyarados attacked TR’s balloon, after which he rescued his trainer’s PokeBelt from them. Just in case anyone was curious. As for Misty’s panic attack timing, I felt that the adrenaline rush in the moment would keep her from falling prey to it so that’s why it takes place hours later when she has time to think. As for how Ash helps her control it, he’s instinctively offering her deep breathing and grounding techniques which - if you’re unfamiliar - are pretty basic mental coping skills.
Also a few unrelated things: Please do not just like this story! If you had a good time reading, I implore you to share this and help me spread the word about this blog! I haven’t received many requests lately, only one every 6-15 days! That being said, if you have a fic request, please send it in! I have 1 or 2 in my inbox and a couple others in drafts that I’ve started but I could use some more prompts if you’re interested in me writing for them!]
Hi! Someone sent this request to mythgirlimagines and I loved what she came up with. Could you come up with something else or expand on her idea please? :) link: mythgirlimagines(.)tumblr(.)com/post/190057630070/hello-could-you-do-some-hurtconfort-for-ash-and
(I went to ask @mythgirlimagines for use/expansion of her headcanons before writing this. Here’s hoping I do it justice for everyone. Not really sure what to expand on but I don’t mind fleshing out the situation in prose. PS: User @nebli suggested the stories Ash tells of his younger!childhood. I’m bad at headcanons so I asked for help.)
You practically bite into your own arm to muffle the deep inhale of brisk late night air as it filters into your lungs, bracing yourself stock still behind a grand oak with easiest access to the stream nearby your group’s campsite.
Your redheaded companion is sitting with her back to you at the edge of the water, unoccasionally sniffling and shoulders heaving in a motion you’re semi-familiar with because, hey, it’s not like you’ve never cried before in your life.
Oh. Misty’s… crying?
That’s… that was new. Or rather, new-ish. You could scarcely remember her shedding a tear or few during the last few years on the road, though you think there was something back in the hidden village where you met Bulbasaur, and then there was the Lavender Tower… (How do you even remember any of that anyway?)
You shake yourself from your reverie, returning to present thought process.
You’d wondered why she was missing from the campsite. And yet you told yourself you were only getting up to use the nearest foliage as your bathroom and not to search for her in the darkness while all other companions (your Pokemon as well as resident caretaker Brock, returned to your group after his temporary departure in the Orange Islands) slept the night peacefully away… but here you are almost ten minutes later after walking obstinately farther than was needed to relieve yourself.
You should have remained wrapped up snug in your sleeping bag.
After all, what are you supposed to do with this? Though you loathe to admit it, you can barely handle Misty’s ire and passion and weird girly personality in any other instance; what are you supposed to do with a Misty who’s crying alone in the middle of the night?
You sigh as faintly as possible, a few memories fluttering to the surface of your consciousness in response to that question.
Misty following you out to the deck of a large cruise liner and begging to know why you look so troubled, offering you rather obvious advice in hindsight… but it sure helped to know she understood.
Misty reminding you that Butterfree is leaving to start a family of his own with his new mate and you’d better take this chance to say your goodbyes while you have it… because that was more important than sulking over losing a friend.
Misty stalking rigidly into your assigned guest room at Indigo Plateau after your loss in the league, strong-arming you out of your brooding state.
Misty appearing over you after your hometown battle with Gary, a faint expression of sympathy flitting across her face before she points out that you’d better get a move on and start your trek to Johto if you don’t want to fall even further behind your childhood rival.
You roll your eyes so intensely in response to all these rather telling signs that you feel a bit dizzy a moment later.
Misty is crying alone in the middle of the night… and you know what you have to do.
But how to go about it? By the grace of all gods, it seems she hasn’t noticed your presence yet (though it’s assumed that she’s rather preoccupied). However the last thing you want is to set her off down the path of righteous fury and end up her victim.
Tsking to yourself, you squint your eyes shut again, brow creased in frustration. You’re thinking too much into this. It’s not like you to dedicate so much time to mollifying Misty of all people.
Instinct takes over and you bungle your way loudly through the foliage, sure to get her attention, making it look like an accident.
“Oh, uh, Misty. Funny running into you here.”
Stellar improvisation from the future number one Pokemon Master in the world.
However if she senses anything amiss in your approach, she doesn’t address it. Perhaps because she busies herself instead with wiping furiously at her splotched red cheeks, hiccuping and doing her utmost to rub the dry red from her eyes.
“I was just going to the bathroom,” you continue, “I didn’t know you were up too.”
Despite knowing your best option is to play innocent bystander… a twinging pierce briefly tugs in your chest over the thought of lying to her. But there’s no time to dwell, nope, gotta dig in whether she catches on or not.
“So anyway… Uh, is something wrong?” Yep, that sounded natural. Well, it’s not that it didn’t but you are suddenly overtly aware that you’ve never honestly asked this question of her since the start of your journey together. Instead the question was always a condescending rebuff in the middle of a fight.
Lips pursed, gaze averted, “… Of course not, Mr. Pokemon Master,” she responds in a brusque yet weak murmur. It’s not the least bit convincing. Well, you weren’t exactly expecting the confrontation to be a cakewalk…
Your initial approach had been sudden - element of surprise enough to distract her from her potential mortifying rage at being discovered in so compromising a demeanor. Over the past minute or so, you’ve cautiously edged yourself across the clearing, eventually coming to a stop just behind her before easing yourself into a sitting position at her side.
Welp… here you both are, you couldn’t help thinking warily, fingers drumming softly against your own knees, waiting for something to give.
Oh, and give something did as the redheaded girl beside you, in a much too far removed reaction compared to her previous attempt at concealing her despondence, suddenly leans forward, presses her rather wet and beet-colored face into your neck, one hand curling loosely around the hem of your sleeve to keep you there as she releases a sharp bawl.
Whoa, wait, mayday! you shriek internally, eyes wide and scalp and ears flushing uncomfortably hot. Alarms are ringing in uproarious, disorienting fashion and the panic sets in so instantaneous and intense that it’s enough to make you feel positively ill.
This doesn’t happen. This has never happened before between you two! What’s she thinking? What’re you supposed to do?!
It’s life or death, you know, as your instincts kick in, the hand closest to her reaching up and brushing the back of her neck, grasping her opposing shoulder and pulling her ever so slightly closer to you while she continues weeping.
It’s hard to tell if this is the right move or not. True, Misty hasn’t made any negative maneuver against you but she also hasn’t given you any signal that her mood is improving. Doing your best to smother your impatience, you internally count the seconds, minutes as they pass, staring vaguely into the dimly lit distance while the teenage girl beside you carries on grossly using your sleeve as her new personal tissue.
Ick, the thought crosses your mind before you push it aside and barrel forward, unable to take the awkward tension anymore… But what to do about it?
“Ya know, when I was a kid,” there’s a brief pause when, bless her, Misty offers a skeptical glance between sniffles, “Uh, a younger kid, Gary and I were racing around the outskirts of Pallet and I tripped over him and landed in this lake nearby. There was a school of Magikarp swimming by and one of ‘em stopped to slap me in the face with its tail ‘cause I disrupted their formation.”
Despite her gloom, you hear a distinct snort in response to your story. Feeling invigorated by your success, you continue with your distracting babble. At the same time you bide your time coming up with your next contribution. You want to help her but you also don’t wanna offer her any ammunition she can use for blackmail later on.
“Once, there was this time when my mom was super busy with work and I was worried she was gonna get sick so I tried to make her some homemade juice using fruits and veggies from our garden. It, uh… I wasn’t paying attention and it ended up all over the kitchen,” you finish rather lamely, wistful as the memory came to mind.
This time you’re rewarded with a faint, faltering giggle. It impresses you just how much making someone - Misty - feel a little better can fill you with so much pride.
Still, though the actual crying begins to subside, her features are contorted with a sense of mourning.
“So…” you try again apprehensively, “are ya ever gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
She stiffens, shrugging then shaking her head. A fleeting question crosses your mind. What’s more important; your curiosity over what may have happened or the intent of encouraging a friend when they’re feeling low…?
Of course, you know the answer in a heartbeat.
“Okay well… are you ok - uh, will you be okay?”
A pause, one final brush between her face and your sleeve before she pulls a few inches away with a sigh.
“Nngh, yeah… I’ll be… I’m better now. I mean, not one hundred percent,” she elaborates at the sight of your raised brow, “but better than I was b - before you came along.” She finishes her statement with her facial features arranged in a complicated expression.
“I guess I should thank you, Ash.” And, unable to help herself, she adds, “Who woulda known you’d be good company in an emotional crisis?”
Ah, well if she can throw out a line like that then she must be telling the truth.
“Well, you know…” you reply almost bashfully, puffing up your chest before sobering up. “But I’m glad… that you’re okay. So wait, I guess you’re heading back to bed now?”
“Oh, um…” She appears slightly troubled over such a probing suggestion, buying time, focusing on wiping her cheeks dry. “I still feel a little restless. I’ll probably just stay here and stare out at the water. You know how much I love this kinda view.”
“Then I’ll stay too,” you reply automatically, so much so that your eyes widen, shocked at what your mouth had decided to commit you to without conscious thought. “I mean... if that’s okay.”
She blinks, gaze never leaving your person, though she moves her cursory glance up and down as if checking for remorse or bad intentions behind your offer. And yet, notwithstanding your awe, you find you don’t regret your decision. Finally her survey softens and, taking things a step further, she resituates herself so that she can rest her head against your shoulder again.
The initially jarring predicament lulls into acceptance. You find that you rather like don’t mind relaxing with Misty in such close proximity, especially when she’s in a good mood though, in retrospect, you wouldn’t mind it if she wasn’t either, provided you were in the process of helping her.
You won’t talk about it tomorrow but you also quite enjoy the way your arms bump together before she laces her fingers with your own, spending the final twenty or so minutes of your time together wordlessly holding hands.
Some say love is truest when you know as much as you can about the other person… but on this night, in this instance, love is respecting a boundary and offering whatever support you can when it’s needed despite your ignorance.
(Yeah, by the time the two of them do head back to the campsite, Ash is practically ready to wet himself. Lol. And, as a reminder, this blog is currently - and always but definitely currently since I’m trying to get back into writing - accepting new requests via ask! Please view the rules and FAQ as needed!)
gonna be real im a total homebody i just wanna go to japan with an empty suitcase and come back with pokecenter goodies
i also really want to travel across kyushu & visit mt. aso....... i dont think anyone actually does anything in kyushu but its hoenn and i wanna go to hoenn..........
