DISCLAIMER: I do not own Pokémon.

The Lightning Rod

Perhaps it was because he had been there since the beginning. Perhaps it was because they knew he'd never tell. Or perhaps it was simply because there was no-one else around who truly understood. Whatever the reason, the release it afforded them was more than could ever be put into words, which was why he never once tried to. On the long and lonely road, little was more valuable than someone willing to lend an ear when feelings ran rampant; but as cloudy as these feelings often were, they both knew that, through thick and thin, they could always count on their mutual friend to do what he did best. The electricity between his two human companions was clear as day, and he absorbed it all, time after time, like the little lightning rod he was. For nobody knew electricity better than he.

For years he carried their secrets, sharing in their individual plights without ever feeling tempted to intervene. How easy it would have been for him to take matters into his own paws, to help them close the miniscule gap that they had somehow stretched into a mile. Yet, deep down, he knew this was something they had to discover for themselves. Their methods of interaction were unusual, for sure, but who was he to judge? They were humans, after all, and he was just a pokémon.

The female was first to open up. His precious Pikachupi. To the untrained eye, she was all fire and rage, a ticking time bomb that went off when anyone got close, but pokémon were better attuned to such things, and to those who knew where to look, the young girl wore her heart on her sleeve. Her tale was one of loneliness, of distrust and deep-seated inferiority complexes, and though neither could have realised at the time, it was his trainer, his Pikapi, who broke down those barriers and freed her from herself. She saved his life, and in return, he saved her soul.

Though relations between he and Pikapi were delicate at first, Pikachupi had warmed his little heart from the moment he first saw her. Pokémon were said to feel as their trainers did, and never had a truer reflection of his trainer's feelings been so freely expressed than in his fondness for the fire-headed human girl (of course, that was not for them to know until much later). It was in Viridian Forest, only the night after Pikapi's first pokémon catch, that she made her feelings known for the first time:

"Oh, hey, Pikachu," he remembered her saying. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Pikachupi?" he questioned as he approached her.

"I was, er, just thinking, I guess. Ash was really brave standing up to those pokémon thieves yesterday, wasn't he? I mean, he's normally so stubborn and idiotic, with the worst sense of direction I've ever come across, but now…argh, I dunno."

She smiled before lowering her voice. "Just between you and me…I really hope we can be friends."

The look in her eyes was one he'd remember for the rest of his life. It was confused, yet so profound, a cross between 'why am I telling you this?' and 'I know I can trust you'. And trust him she could, for what else were friends for?

Ash – that was what the humans called him – was a much tougher nut to crack. Emotions ran deep within his Pikapi: courage, passion, boundless optimism, a determination to be the best. But ten was very young indeed in human years, and matters of the heart had scarcely crossed the boy's impressionable little mind.

"Man, where is she?" he whined one time while flicking through his pokédex. "Girls are such a pain in the neck."

Only five seconds later, Pikapi spoke up again. "Eh, she's alright, I guess."

"Sorry I'm late!" Pikachupi skipped in. She was wearing something silkier and fluid like the water she so adored, and her hair was flowing loose and free. It made Pikapi's heart pound – he knew because he felt it, sat on his shoulder as a spectator to their special moment. Their kind's fascination with clothing was one he'd never understand; but then, they were humans, and he was just a pokémon.

Needless to say, their face-to-face interactions were a different story. They fought at every opportunity they had: nothing was said that couldn't be shouted; no compliments were paid without that hint of sarcasm; no advice shared without an undertone of impatience. Their insults were but a shield, deflecting what they dared not admit to each other, and rarely even themselves. Admitting would be telling, after all, and that was something neither was prepared to do without a fight.

But such strong feelings couldn't just be bottled up and forgotten about. Their electricity too often crackled out of control, and so it was that he became the lightning rod for their surges of emotion. What they couldn't say to each other, they said to him. He was the melting pot for their pain, the fountain for their fervour, the cauldron for their confusion – and the whole time, they both thought they were the only one.

As the years passed, their feelings only grew stronger, and his two impassioned friends turned to him that much more. Pikapi was cryptic, evasive, but gradually opened up as time went on, while Pikachupi, who was known in human speak as Misty, practically poured her heart out. Though despite their different approaches, he never once had any doubt that their feelings were one and the same. It was love in its purest, most honest form, and he would silently aid them in their quest to discover it for as long as he was needed.

His duty was all his own, never to be shared with or surrendered to anyone else. But to claim that he was the only one who knew of their growing passion was the grossest of falsehoods. Human and pokémon companions alike came and went during their travels, and no matter how brief or extensive their stay was, they were all part of the same group, the same family – and what family didn't yearn to find out each other's secrets?

The mainstays of his pokémon peers had their own nuanced opinions on the matter. Squirtle, Totodile and Politoed found it hilarious, Bulbasaur and Charizard were largely unmoved, Bayleef seemed threatened by it, while Corsola, Staryu and Cyndaquil were beside themselves with joy. Even Psyduck was aware of his trainer's attraction to the 'Hatted One', as he called him. Yet, whatever their individual reactions were, they all knew that nothing on Earth could break those two apart. It was inevitable, like the passage of time or the turn of the tide. Pikapi was the father, Pikachupi was the mother, and their pokémon were the children in one big ever-growing family. There were no questions asked; it was just the way it was.

As he understood it, the human 'relatives' thought much the same. The one known as Brock had been with them for years, an older, more mature figure to care for them as a pokémon would its young. To him, a love expert by his own admission, 'Ash' and 'Misty' were his 'project' as much as they were his responsibility, and it wasn't long before he, too, began sending his own observations the lightning rod's way:

"Only a matter of time now, eh, Pikachu? They're worse than a pair of nidoran."

And when it came to comments from people they encountered on their journey, he'd all but lost count:

"They say when two people fight, they really care about each other."

"What's that saying? You always hurt the one you love?"

"She wants him."

He had never quite learned to comprehend the pomp and ceremony of human relationships. Most pokémon mated for life, and their courting rituals were fairly straightforward by comparison. Yet, in his eyes, the bond between Pikapi and Pikachupi had always seemed closer to the latter. With them, there was no need for all the bloated symbolism, all the empty words and sycophantic gestures. It was just him and her, her and him, and it was beautiful. Maybe it was more complicated than that, though. As he often had to remind himself, they were humans, and he was just a pokémon.

It was all going so well until that day: the day she had to leave. They put on a good front, as he knew they would, but even a zubat could have seen that saying goodbye broke both of their hearts. On the way home, Pikapi opened his mouth to speak, and didn't close it until the minute they arrived. The heartache of losing his two best friends in the same day, the claustrophobia of being alone for the first time in five years, teased out a veritable bolt of vulnerability in the young boy. It was almost too much for him to process; but, true to his word, he absorbed it all, solemnly and silently, like the loyal little lightning rod he had always been.

They saw so little of each other after that, but never left each other's thoughts. Pokémon could sense these things, even over long distances. With he and Pikapi ever travelling, and Pikachupi running her family's gym, the distance between them only cemented their feelings for one another. New friends were made, new adventures awaited each day, but nothing could ever have replaced the early days, the first days. The days with her.

A quiet night in the Sinnoh region. His trainer's companions peacefully sleeping. Pikapi sat cross-legged on his sleeping bag, holding up a fishing lure with a very familiar shape. His loyal pokémon watched on in curiosity. He couldn't remember exactly when it was that he heard him say it – all he knew was that it was about time.

"I…think I love her, buddy."

That was the turning point. From then on, things were so much clearer, and his services were needed that much less. It didn't sadden him, far from it. Every time his master turned to him with a grin or a wink, he knew that he had done his part: an unsung hero, a catalyst in a union that so desperately needed to happen. How he wished he could be there for Pikachupi at this time, to ease the loneliness he knew she was bound to be feeling – but the occasional whisper of, "Won't be long now!" in his ear brought the smile back onto his face. Indeed, it wouldn't be long until all was revealed.

Almost ten years have passed since then, and here they are, joined together at the altar on the most important day of their lives. He is the ring bearer, and leaps forward on his cue, the two sacred objects sat upon the cushion he grips gently with his teeth. As they bend down to take the rings, the bride and groom each give him a little wink, perhaps as a final, secret word of thanks for everything he has done for them. Neither seems to notice the other's actions, something that speaks volumes for him, having given him one last opportunity to be the lightning rod he had always promised to be. His Pikapi and Pikachupi belong to each other now, but he and their friends will forever be a part of their family, of that he is certain. For better or worse, they will always be his humans, and he will always be their pokémon.