Saving Pikachu

Prof. Oak trudges into the conference room, and takes his place at the head of the oblong table. He sits, shifts, and quietly tries to extract a bottle of pain-killers from his pocket. Ever since the…events…in question at this meeting, he had been constantly fatigued and sore. A few times, he had even seen strange hallucinations. His doctor assured his that it was only the result of the trauma of the events, and would fade in time. He only hoped he wouldn't have an…episode…during the meeting.

The table is crowded with scientists, police officers, nurses, and angry government officials, who look ready to tear him apart. Not a single eye, save that of the anxious observer, Delia Ketchum, is friendly. At best, he receives cold scrutiny. At worst, openly hostile glares. Though he sits at the head of the table, his seat feels more like that of the accused prisoner in court. To complete the image, a long-time rival professor, Prof. Hawthorn, stands and stalks about the room, silently taking on the role of the prosecution. Prof. Oak is left to his own defense.

"Here's what we know," the Hawthorn-prosecution states matter-of-factly. "We know that all of our networks, databases, and various other computer systems have been infiltrated. We also know that the security systems are, in a word, shot. Our data has been virtually ransacked. Not only was there priceless data stolen, our remaining data continues to be threatened by outside forces while our security is down. We have already traced probes back to Team Rocket, a mafia-style gang that has been operating underground for the last 30 years. All this says nothing of the endangered security and well-being of our hospitals, Pokémon Centers, police headquarters, and government offices, as well as the huge monetary value that will have to be used to set things right.

"We are all scientists, in some way or another. These are the facts. We have also heard the story: a pikachu, belonging to a young boy was having its memories extracted. As we all know, this is an imperfect science, and can cause unpleasant side effects, sometimes death, which is why it has been banned from further research by law. Rouge Professor, Dr. Young, would be the only one foolish enough to attempt it." He sneered into his short beard. "I get off topic—the extraction process, in this case, was being used as not only a data collection, but as a means of, bluntly, torture," the professor sniffed haughtily, "as much as the creature is capable of processing pain. In exchange for that pikachu's rescue, Prof. Oak saw fit to endanger all of Kanto, Johto, and Hoenn. This is the story.

"I know that we all would like to think of ourselves as high moralists, and we are. We uphold the principals of science and ethics. We have made a guideline to these ethics, something you yourself, Prof. Oak, helped to write in your earlier days. However, I suggest to you now that Prof. Oak did not uphold these ethics. By exposing the Oak Laboratories system to the mad Dr. Young, Prof. Oak endangered our national security, the lives of countless pokémon, and the citizens of the three regions represented here today. Furthermore—"

Prof. Oak stands, and says in quiet voice, "You have already held trial against me—are you now to be my judge? Am I not to have a jury? Or even a statement in my own defense?"

Hawthorn visibly simmers. "Very well. Amaze us. What can you say that will atone for your actions?"

"Again," Prof. Oak buts in, "judge without jury. You believe me condemned."

"Just get on with it!"

Prof. Oak smiles wryly to himself. "In our code of ethics, it clearly states that the life of a pokémon is to be valued above all material things, and held equal to the life of a human or other creature. In this way, we try to reflect the balance that is our world*. The life of a pokémon was at stake at that immediate moment: something many times more precious than our machinery and pocketbooks. In the code of ethics that we have all adopted, this was the correct course of action. To my own conscience as well, this was the right thing to do. I made a hard choice within what the circumstances would allow."

In the back, Delia nervously twists her scarf in her hands, and silently claps.

The prosecution was back. "You found it acceptable to endanger 3/5ths of this country for one mouse?"

"What are you saying?" Prof. Oak retorts, getting slowly to his feet. The floor beneath him seems to tip and lurch, but he tries to ignore it. "That its life has no meaning to you? It is a kind, valiant, and brave pokémon. Even if it were not, a life is a life. What are you saying, Hawthorn?"

The rival professor's face turns slightly purple with rage. "Are you accusing me of something, sir? I'll not have it! I am saying that to save one mouse's life, you endangered thousands of human lives!"

A murmur of surprise runs up and down the table, and the professor's face turns a darker shade of purple when he realizes his mistake. Prof. Oak finds himself abruptly shifting to the position of prosecutor.

"So, you yourself admit you value humans above pokémon. Inherently, this breaks our code of ethics." Prof. Oak's knees go weak, and his vision starts to swim. He struggles to keep upright. The room has become a swirl of colors and shape, all seeming to be inching menacingly towards him. He vaguely wonders if his hallucinations are coming back.

"That, if or if not legitimate," Hawthorn yells, "is entirely beside the point. Do you or do you not have anything to say that can even possibly redeem your actions?"

Inside Prof. Oak's head the world shifts, blurs, and before him again is the tiny Pikachu writhing in pain on the operating table in Dr. Young's sinister castle.

Prof. Oak wrestles with himself, and finds he can bear the creatures pain no longer. The consequences of his actions…will come later. After Pikachu is safe. This must stop before Pikachu is irreversibly injured, beyond sanity.

In a flash of intuition, he realizes that not only one life is at stake.

"I'll…give it to you," he growls.

When Pikachu is released, he carefully scoops up the unconscious pokémon, and holds it tightly, and one would to protect a baby. His arms remember another, about the same size, with a button nose, and tuft of black, unruly hair…but it quickly fades.

We've got to escape.

Back in the conference room, the assembled scientists watch as Prof. Oak sways, and crumples to the ground. A murmur rises, and a shout.

"Is he having a heart attack? Someone call an ambulance! Paramedics!"

Delia gives a sharp cry, and rushes to her friend. He lies on his side, arm awkwardly twisted underneath, muttering to himself through his nightmares. She gently slides his arm out from underneath him, checking for broken bones. As she works, she hears him say,

"There was more than one life…more than one…" In a jerky motion, he looks up at her. "Delia…"

"I'm here, Professor. Are you all right?"

"I'll…be fine."

"An ambulance will be here soon."

"Ugh, fine. Delia…"

"Yes?"

"Tell them…" he gestures shakily towards the gathering crowd around them. "Tell them there was more than one life…"

Delia nods soothingly, uncomprehending. He can tell.

"Delia, no. Tell them about Ash."

She understands. Her eyes fill with tears. "I will."

Outside, sirens wail, and a crew of paramedics brush her and the rest away, and tote Prof. Oak out on a stretcher. Delia hurriedly gives them his information, and where to contact her, and they leave as quickly as they had come.

The scientists mill around in shock, whispering and glancing around, as if they expected someone else to fall over. Hawthorn pounds on a table, imagining himself a gavel, and orders everyone back to their seats.

"Since Prof. Oak has been, ah, taken ill," he says in a hollowly sympathetic tone. "Would anyone else like to share their conclusions on the case we have heard?"

Delia stands, and marches to the front of the room. "I would."

Hawthorn frowns, and tries to be polite. "Madam, I'm sorry, but I was addressing the conference."

"Let her speak! She's a friend of Oak's," someone yells from the back of the room. Hawthorn relents.

"Yes, I am a friend of Prof. Oak's. My name is Delia Ketchum. I am also the mother of Ash Ketchum, the trainer of the pikachu. I would just like to say that Prof. Oak has earned a mother's undying gratitude, because he realized there was more than one life at stake. I ask all of you to consider this: all of you are trainers of some form or another. All of you have a pokémon with which you are bonded, deep bonds of friendship. All of you have a pokémon for you might be willing to risk life and limb for, pokémon as dear to you as your human family. I once had a pokémon like this…" Delia trails off, blinks, and continues. "That's what this pikachu is to my son, Ash. They are the best of friends, so close they are practically identical. Prof. Oak realized that by saving Pikachu, he also saved my son," Delia starts to cry, a light, free crying. "So, please, remember your pokémon when you judge my friend, and remember my son." She takes a breath. "I'm finished."

Several miles away, Ash is curled up with Pikachu in his room in bed, waiting for sleep to come. He can hear May and Max's quiet breathing on the other side of the room, and Brock doing the dishes downstairs. He smiles as he remembers his mom's fussing over a babysitter earlier, and everyone laughing as she realized they were all staring at Brock. Even after his now nearly 4 years of being out on a journey, his mom still thought of him as a little kid. And, though he wouldn't tell a soul but Pikachu, he liked it.

Pikachu turns over in his sleep, pressing his snout into Ash's shoulder. Ash looks down at his sleeping pokémon, and feels an overwhelming flash of gratitude, thinking about what Prof. Oak, whom he thinks of as a grandfather, has done for him, and is currently doing. He hugs Pikachu closer.

"Thanks, Professor. Grandpa. Thank you."

*taken from the beginning of Pokémon Ranger and the Temple of the Sea

A/N: R&R please!