Earthbound is the property and creation of Nintendo. No money is being made off this fanfic, although hopefully it'll get people playing again . . .
 

This world . . . it's one of my creation. A bizarre world, without a doubt, but dreams rarely make sense to begin with.

The name of the place, I discover, is Magicant - the realm of the mind. Most of my deepest, most forgotten memories are here, as well as the most recent ones. I've seen old pets, family members, even snowmen.

But there are many former enemies around as well, which puts me on edge. They glare at me with even more hatred than they'd displayed in real life. I have no sympathy for them, however; yeah, I had to beat them, but they were hurting others, which as far as I'm concerned is inexcusable.

Then, there on a couch in the middle of a blue field under a lavender sky, I see my rival, my enemy. Pokey. The most annoying boy in school, now one of my constant foils. I lift my bat, prepared in case he trys anything . . .

And then he looks up, and his face is a picture of loneliness and need. It's a look which is completely foreign to his face, and I stand, somewhat confused.

He speaks. "You're pretty popular, aren't you?" He stops, starts again. "Me, I have no friends . . ." He looks down, dejected. Then, he looks at me, hopeful.

"Maybe you can be my friend?"

He halts, as if receiving an answer, then smiles broadly. "Okay, then, friends forever."

Friends . . .

We were friends once, weren't we?
 

That was about a year ago.

I never told my friends about much of anything that occurred in Magicant. Much of it wasn't really worth mentioning anyway, although the battle with my Nightmare was certainly significant. Still, most of what I'd encountered was personal memories which I never found a need to tell them about.

But the encounter with Pokey in my dreamscape has been nagging at me ever since that night. More so ever since the final battle in which we stood against him and Giygas, and especially so since the letter that was hand delivered by Picky so many nights ago, I've been thinking about that. Two things in particular disturbed me about the memory: one, that I would so easily forget the friendship we'd forged together, and two, that Pokey would learn to hate me so much that he would so willingly help Giygas out, and still continue to seek revenge even after his destruction.

Why'd he do it? What did I ever do to him?

Speaking of Picky, he became sort of a surrogate little brother after the whole battle with Giygas. With Pokey gone, he didn't really have anybody close -- his family, after all, aren't the best example of humanity in the world. So, for reasons I have yet to fathom, he latched onto me.

Don't think that I'm complaining, however -- Picky seemed to embody everything that his family lacked; namely, honor, bravery and a certain degree of good will. He was still a little arrogant -- you couldn't escape that in Pokey's family -- but he was still far better than anybody else you could get from that group.

I don't think his mother was particularly pleased about it. Several times she threatened to ground him for seeing me, only to have him sneak out. She still tries everything she can to keep him from visiting, but Picky's very resourceful.

For the most part, we got along great. Picky seemed to look up to me, and I on my part made sure that he stayed out of trouble. Call it a sort of bizarre guilt, but I did feel responsible for taking away his older brother, and as a result I felt obligated to protect him.

It wasn't like he was a constant thorn, either. Picky actually had the good sense to know when was and wasn't a bad time to be hanging with me, which was more than I could ever say about Pokey. It was going pretty smoothly for awhile.

After the letter arrived, however, Picky began gradually asking me questions. Not many, at first, although I got the sensation there was something on his mind. Later, however, he was definitely beginning to show an interest in what, exactly, had happened to Pokey. The questions weren't ones I was prepared to answer.

After all, how can you tell an eight-year old boy that his brother became the second-hand man to the greatest evil that ever lived and now roams the dimensions waiting for a chance for revenge on yours truly?

Maybe I should've, however, because then what happened next may never have occurred.

We were woken late one night by a loud knocking. It wasn't too hard to figure out it was some member of Pokey's family; every single one of them had the same annoying knock, not to mention a knack for performing said knock when most sensible people would be asleep.

Tracy stood in the hallway, looking disgruntled. "Haven't we done this before?" she muttered grumpily, and I didn't blame her -- I was feeling a strong case of deja vu myself.

I walked down the stairs. Mom, for once, was aiming to answer the door herself. Something told me, however, that whatever the reason for this midnight intrusion, it was probably for me.

I was right. The second Mom opened the door, Mrs. Minch barrelled through, pointing an accusing finger in my direction.

"WHERE IS HE?!" the she-creature bellowed angrily.

"Where's who?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"YOU KNOW WHO I'M TALKING ABOUT!!! MY DARLING!!!" she screamed. I winced, half expecting the rest of the neighborhood to wake up with us.

Mom intervened. "Lardna, what exactly are you accusing my son of -- in the middle of the night, might I add?" she asked, her voice saying volumes regarding her current feelings.

Mrs. Minch pointed a finger in my direction. "This . . . BOY has once again influenced another one of my sons to disappear! I demand he tell me exactly where Picky is!" she shouted, trembling with anger.

"How would I know?" I asked, feeling very tired and cranky.

"THIS!" she exclaimed, pushing a piece of paper into my face. I took it and read. The words sent a knot of dread into my stomach very quickly.
 

To Ness:

   Well, since you don't seem to want to tell me what happened to Pokey, I guess I'd better find out myself. Sorry, but he is my bro, even if he is a big greedy chicken and all. Don't follow me.

- Picky
 

"WELL?!" asked Mrs. Minch angrily.

I pursed my lips. "He hasn't come by here, Mrs. Minch . . . but I will find out where he went," I stated, very purposefully.

My mother stared at me like I was insane. Mrs. Minch, however, merely huffed. "No! The last thing I need is YOU putting strange ideas in his head! This is going to be handled by proper authorities! As for you, I never want to see you around my house again!" She stormed out.

To some extent, I didn't blame Mrs. Minch for her reactions. Sure, as normal she blew things extremely out of proportion, but considering she'd already lost her husband and eldest son, having Picky run away must have been devastating. Didn't make her any less of a witch, though.

I began to head upstairs, but Mom stopped me. "Ness, did you really mean . . ."

I looked into her eyes. I didn't really need to say anything -- Mom may not have had psychic powers, but she could read me like a book. Her face fell. "I see . . . So you're going out again."

I nodded. "Sorry Mom, but it's something I've gotta do. I can't imagine what's going on in his head, but it's not safe out there. Besides, he's a friend, you know?" I explained.

Mom stared for a moment, then nodded, resigned. "You will take care of yourself, right?" she asked.

"Do I ever not?" I replied cheerfully.

She chuckled softly. "Yes, I forgot, you're a hero after all . . . Well, remember there's always a bed for you here. Wear clean underwear, and make sure you're always polite."

"I know, I know Mom. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I'll find Picky, and it'll all be cool again, okay?" I said, cheerfully. She nodded and moved out of the way, and I went to make preparations.

Little did I know that Picky's whereabouts weren't the only things I was going to discover.
 

Author's Notes:

Basically, the whole point of this fanfic is thus: so many people concentrate on just how annoying and evil Pokey is that they seem to forget that the game actually acknowledges the fact that Ness and Pokey were friends. The question remains, then what exactly caused Pokey to resent Ness so much -- something this fic should hopefully delve into. Yeah, maybe I'm giving the fat jerk too much credit, but I think it's worth exploring.

This is a sample, thus far. Whether or not I continue depends on the inspiration. I haven't got this one fully planned out yet, but hopefully this will be just as good as A Walk Through Winters.

Well anyway, that's what I hope.