A Dream, A Destiny 2

Fix things

Ash POV

The cab parked outside Sere's housing unit, the driver gunning the engine as though he just couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. I knew how he felt. This wasn't a neighborhood you wanted to get stranded in.

Dope dealers lounged against the graffiti covered walls, watching me in far distance as I pulled my red cap down shadowing to cover my true identity and walked into the tall building. The wail of police sirens made me feel even more nervous, and as I walked up the stairs to Sere's apartment, I kept expecting to run into a drunken Alain. Not exactly a comforting thought.

I finally made it up to Sere's front door, trying to step as lightly as I could. Those floorboards were as creaky as they came. The last thing I wanted to do was fall through into someone else's ceiling. Raising my hand, I knocked on the door a couple of times, picking flecks of peeling paint from my knuckles.

Time to think up a game plan. Even though I knew why I was there, I had no idea what I was going to say to Sere's mom. Stupid of me, I should have planned it all out in my head in the cab ride over here, but I got distracted every time I thought about those fingermarks on Sere's neck. So sue me.

Oh, well. When in doubt, improvise.

I took a deep breath as I heard faint shuffling steps coming from inside the apartment and hoped that what Sere had said about Alain being out was true. How late was 'late' in Serena speak? Because if he was already back from his boozing, I was about to be in a s***load of trouble as soon as the door opened.

The door opened a crack and an eye squinted at me from behind. I breathed a sigh of relief. Not Alain. Thank God.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Sere's mom, Grace, asked crisply, her voice sounding like her nose was stuffed up.

Putting on my fake smile and acting friendly, I said, "Hi, Miss. Yvonne, my name is Ash Ketchum, I'm Serena's friend."

She opened the door a little wider, a look of recognition mixed with puzzlement flitting across her face. "Oh, yes, I remember you. How are you?" she asked politely.

"I'm good, how about you?" Manners are important. I was there to obtain information, so every little thing helped.

A watchful look on her face, like she didn't quite trust me, Grace replied, "I have a little bit of a cold, but I'll live. Unfortunately, you're out of luck today. Serena's at work."

"I know," I immediately said, running a hand all over my messy hair between my fingers. "That's actually why I'm here. I wanted to talk to you about Serena."

The puzzlement on Grace's face turned to confusion as she looked at me. "You want to talk to me about Serena?" she repeated. "I don't understand. In relation to what?"

My answer was blunt and to the point. "I want to ask you about her dad, your husband."

Grace pursed up her lips, eyeing me silently for a long minute. Just as I thought she was about to slam the door shut in my face, however, she opened it wider.

"Perhaps you'd better come in," she said, gesturing for me to enter.

With that, I stepped in to the drafty apartment, waiting until Grace closed the door before following her to the sparsely furnished living room. She sat down heavily on the couch and pointed to a straight backed chair opposite, indicating that I should sit which I sat comfortably, feeling a little like I was about to be interrogated.

Leaning forward in my chair with my elbows placed upon my knees for support, I decided to break the uncomfortable silence. "Miss Yvonne-," I started.

Grace raised her hand to stop me from speaking. "Before you start, let me ask you this one question. Did Serena send you here?"

I shook my head immediately. "No. She doesn't even know I'm here."

"So you decided that just showing up unannounced on her doorstep to ask me about my husband was a good idea?"

Judging from the look on Grace face, maybe it wasn't a good idea. But I was here now, and I was going to get answers to my questions or die trying.

"Even though Serena didn't tell me to come and ask you about her dad, I-," I started but Grace interrupted me again.

"Took it upon yourself to ask me for her?" A distinctly hostile tone in her voice, Grace continued. "What does this have to do with you?" She asked, narrowing her eyebrows at me.

"I just think that Serena deserves to know about her dad! Who he is, where he is- don't you think she has the right to know? Don't you think her dad has the right to find out about the beautiful daughter he's missing out on knowing?" I asked in a passionate rush.

For a second, as Grace's eyes narrowed to slits and her lips tightened, I thought I'd gone too far. In fact, I was almost on the edge of my seat, ready to stand up and be escorted to the door when she asked, "Why are you doing this? Asking me about Serena's dad, I mean. What could you possibly stand to gain from knowing his name or anything about him?"

"Because I know that, even though she doesn't say anything about it, Serena really wants to meet her dad." I paused for a brief moment, catching my breath. "Did she tell you about my bucket list?"

"Yes, she did," Grace replied with a single nod.

"Well, one day she told me that one of her biggest wishes was to meet her dad. I just want to make that wish come true. She deserves that much, especially after helping me out so much when she didn't need or have to,"

Grace looked at me for a long while. Finally, just as I was starting to get nervous, she spoke, "No. I mean, why are you really doing this? Don't give me any story about 'wishes', either." She smiled, the first genuine smile she'd given me since I walked through the door. "I'm old enough to sense crap when I hear it. Let's not play games here."

I stared at her. What did she want me to say? I'd already told her the reason I wanted to help find Sere's dad- to make her wish come true. There was nothing more I could add to that.

Except for the truth.

That little voice in my head which had the tendency to pop up unwanted was at it again with a vengeance.

You know, the real reason you want Sere around, helping you with your list. The real reason you get fired up and pissed off whenever you see her bruised up. The real reason you hate seeing her sad and love to see her smile.

Opening my mouth, I looked at Grace right in her face and said, "Because I think I'm falling in love with your daughter."