Misty's Awakening
~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

"Um... OK, guys— dinner's ready!" Misty's voice sounded a bit uncertain, but still somewhat triumphant.


"Mmm, good. I could use some real food about now. What is it?" It was Ash speaking, looking up from the weak body of his older friend, Brock.


"Well... I tried to make soup from scratch. I thought I had the recipe memorized; I've seen Brock make it so many times. I think I got it mostly right." Misty stood still, watching as Ash dished out some of the chunky substance into a bowl.

"Chicken soup?" he asked, discerning the stuff in the ladle.

"Er, yeah," Misty said quickly, "especially for Brock."

Ash nodded. It was almost like... like she wanted his approval, and if she didn't get it, it'd be a blow to her morale. Usually, she didn't care what he thought about anything.

Things had been bad enough— they hadn't been able to travel much at all the past few days, what with Brock getting sick and all. They hadn't been able to get him to a doctor yet, and Misty had assumed that if she at least tried to cook something fresh, it might help him. Maybe it would help all of them.

Misty watched, tentatively, as Ash poured soup into his bowl and took a bite.

It seemed at first that he liked it, but a moment later, Misty realized that she was wrong. Ash spat out the soup and, crying out, and ran straight for a bucket of water, ducking his whole head in it.

Misty stamped her foot to the ground. Wasn't anything she did good enough for that ignorant little dolt?!

Ash returned, sputtering, and still spitting water. "Yuck, Misty! I know Brock and I annoy you a lot, but do you really wanna *kill* us?!" He was joking, and that only made it worse.

'Sometimes...' Misty thought to herself. Then, shaking her head, she yelled, "Well, at least I'm _trying_ to do something around here!!! For as long as I've been traveling with you, I've _never_ seen you cook even once! You couldn't even roast a marshmallow by yourself, so I'd just like to see you do better!"

"Well... well, I'm busy taking care of Brock just now! How do you expect _me_ to cook at a time like this?!"

Misty was fuming. How could he insult her when she was just trying to help, too? "Ash Kethchem, you have *no* respect for other people, and God forbid you actually _do_ something around here besides throw your stupid Pokeballs!" She did all she could to keep from lunging at him and choking his proud little throat.

"Uh, wow Misty! You sound just like my mom...too bad you can't cook like her! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" Ash was doubled up laughing on the ground.

That was drawing the line. "Arrrghh!! THAT'S IT!!" Misty screamed, "I... I... I'M LEAVING FOR A WHILE!" She stormed off from they're camp and toward the beach, about a mile away.

She began to run. The farther from Ash, the better, she thought. Just forget him! They'd been together for years... two? Three, maybe? Who knew anymore. But he hadn't seemed to change one bit from his old, obnoxious self.

Misty remembered a few times— even if it were only 2 or 3— that she had decided that she liked Ash. Maybe even had a crush on him. Yes... those were the times that he had been kind... times when she had admired him. She always got over it, though— he'd always go back to his old self after that. What an idiot!

'Some people never change,' she thought.

She was tired, but she didn't feel much like stopping. She could hear the ocean waves ahead of her now...

Ah, the ocean, one of the things that could always make Misty feel better, no matter what. She sighed, and began to run even faster, already envisioning the ocean vapors about her, and the sunset over the waves.

At last— she could see it now, coming up over an ocean ledge that lead down to the beach. Blue, pristine, beautiful.

Misty came up against the ledge and ran faster still, looking for a way down. The very sight of the water was invigorating.

"Just...forget...about...Ash..." she panted to herself as she rain parallel to the water. She closed her eyes, and opened them again to the glittering body of liquid.

And then suddenly, with a jolt, the ocean was doing flips, tumbling as she felt her foot catch on something unseen. She rolled over and over... off the cliff she had been running by. She had no time to comprehend what had just happened and why, and she just kept rolling. She tried to curl her body up into a ball, but it didn't stop the rocks from hitting her in the head, nor did it shield her small body from the rocks and ledges that jutted out from the cliff side.

Her head was jolted back and forth continually. She found that she no longer had control over her body, and, at last, ceased rolling and lay sprawled out on the sand.

She couldn't see. She couldn't feel. She couldn't even think...

She knew nothing else but blackness from then on.


* * * *


"...Misty... Misty..."

She heard an echo in the pitch black. She wanted so badly to answer, but found that she had no voice.

"Oh....Misty.... I..."

She felt like she was falling, spinning through the air. It felt cold.

"......."

The voice was gone, and for a moment, all she could hear was breathing. Then, very suddenly, nothingness returned. This time, it lasted a very, very long time.


* * * *

It was like looking down an empty country road: it never seemed to stop. Misty wasn't sure if she was thinking it, or if it was even a thought at all, but that was how it felt— the blackness, that is. Watching the dark, looking into nothing, like staring at a blank piece of paper for an eternity and hoping to find something on it. The void was drowning her very soul in darkness.

And then she saw; no, *felt* something rushing by her. It wasn't exactly a material thing... it was like after not thinking for a long time, some idea ran though her mind. Then another, and yet another. She felt like she was being lifted up by someone's strong arm, and it felt so strange. She was floating aimlessly... then a splash had interrupted her world.

Or was it the world interrupting her own black solitude?


* * * *

Eyes— things Misty had forgotten, windows that had been long closed to her. Light cascaded into them now, directing the darkness out through the crack that had just opened. And ears— yes, a strange, disparate, almost noisy sensation had returned to them— beep... beep... beep...

Feeling spread through her like a huge wave, washing over her entire being. Arms, hands, legs, feet: they all came back to her consciousness, and she found herself testing them out, wiggling her fingers and toes. It felt amazing, and strangely overtaking.

She felt, for the first time in an infinity, air flowing in and out of her lungs. She could smell a sterile, aseptic scent that seemed to be permanent to where she was. And, at last, she saw.

It was mostly white, what she saw come into focus. She recognized that she was alone in a room that was mostly empty. Her brain recognized the things about her. A bed, which she was currently lying on; a window, through which came light, a chair situated right next to her bed; and a table with flowers... flowers... smelled so sweet...

Some machinery was next to the wall by her, too. Large, small, on and beeping, off and cold. Some were even... hooked up to her.

Misty moved her head— it ached dully, and she turned it back. Outside of her room, she had seen many busy people in white, bustling back and forth.

Misty tried to sit up, but found herself too weak. She felt a bit confused somehow but even though she couldn't understand what was happening, she felt mostly at peace. Still— how had she gotten here?

The door to the room opened. Misty looked over to it, and saw in the doorway a nurse in white with a silver tray. She saw Misty, blinked once, an dropped the tray and its contents all over the hard, tile floor.

"Oh, my...you...the Waterflower girl! You...you're awake!"

She looked very alarmed, and glanced all around her, at the machines, and back at Misty. "I...oh, now, don't you move. I'm going to get the Doctor right away!" She ran out of the room, leaving the mess on the floor.

Not only did this confuse Misty, it made her a little nervous. Doctor? Why? What had happened to her, and what was he going to do to her now?

Well, she *wasn't* going to go anywhere, the nurse didn't need to worry. She could barely move as it was. She just lay there, waiting again. Waiting was nothing to her anymore.

* * * *

Eventually, Misty heard the door open again. A man wearing a white coat entered the room, and came toward her. He had a clipboard with him, and looked to be about 30 years old. He smiled at the sight of Misty.

"Well, well...so it's true!" he said, sounding both astounded and pleased. Misty opened her mouth and attempted to speak, but didn't know if she could. It felt almost like there was a rag stuck in her mouth, or that she had forgotten how.

"I can hardly believe it!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Well, I guess I should look you over, see how you're doing now. I guess you've had a nice long nap, anyway." He chuckled lightly to himself. "Anyway, let me run a quick examination, alright?"

Misty nodded faintly.

"Good, good." The Doctor gently sat her up, and began to listen to her heartbeat with a stethoscope.

"So; how much do you remember? Can you tell me what your name is?" He put his stethoscope around his neck and began to look at one of the machines closely.

Misty felt a rush come over her. Name... her name. Certainly she knew that! She thought for a moment, and then a voice echoed softly in the back of her mind, though it was not her own:

'...Misty... Oh, Misty.... please...'

Yes! Misty. Misty Waterflower. She opened her mouth, and choked out the words.

"Mm...Misty."

The Doctor glanced at her and nodded. "Good! Very good, Misty. Yes, I'm pretty impressed at what I'm seeing here. You don't seem to have any amnesia or brain damage of any kind...at least not any that's obvious." He began to write on his clipboard. "Do you remember anything else, Misty?"

She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. She didn't remember much...mostly darkness...but then...

"Yes," she answered, her voice rather shaky, "I...I was falling down. I was running away."

"Falling, eh? I see. And where were you falling, exactly?"

"I don't know," she responded. She thought a minute more. It was like trying to find a certain shirt in a dark closet full of clothes.

"Wait— the beach!" she said suddenly as thought returned to her. "I was running to it, and I fell." She took in breath slowly. "I was running because I was angry." She found it hard to use long sentences— almost draining, and complicated.

"Oh? Can you tell me exactly why you were running away?" the Doctor asked, looking in her ear with a light.

"Well, I was angry. Angry... at someone. I wanted to get away."

The Doctor, finishing up the examination, decided not to ask anymore questions, as at the rate it was going, it could take all day. "Alright, Misty, that about does it. Now, you rest, and don't try to get out of bed, OK? Just be careful and calm down ." He settled her back down onto the mattress so that she was lying on her back again. He put covers over her, and walked to the door.

Misty suddenly felt desperate, a need to know more, and she struggled to get him to come back. "Wait! Please don't go— tell me what's going on," she pleaded, trying to sit up again. "I'm just so...so confused!"

The doctor looked back at her. He seemed understanding. "Well... I don't know if you're ready for that yet, Misty."

Misty was starting to panic. "Ready? What? What do you mean? I want to know!"

The Doctor walked back to Misty's bedside and sat down. "Are you sure you want to know now; right now?" he asked seriously.

Misty gulped. "Yes, I...I think so."

"Well, you have the right to know, I suppose." He sighed. "You had a bad blow to your head, and we think you must have had a concussion. That's what makes the most sense. But whatever it was, it caused you to go into a coma; a long coma. You've been unconscious for nearly 3 years now."



____
To Be Continued...
____

__________________________________________________________________________
So, shall I continue it? I probably would anyway. But tell me what you thought of it, just the same. I know it's not completely original, but how many fics are there that *haven't* been done? Anyway, lemme know if you liked it! --StarGlider
__________________________________________________________________________