Midnight Musings
James P.O.V.
I hate it when we blast off; I think slowly pealing the tape off one of Jessie's wounds.
"Sorry Jess not quite healed yet." I hate to see her hurt. I hate the fact that we get hurt at all. We used to be some of the best Team Rocket agents. I can remember the night we flunked out of Pokemon Tech we made a pact that we wouldn't be reject for the rest of out lives. I pause from re-dressing the large gash on her thigh remembering how the boss told us almost three years ago to capture the lousy Pikachu and we'd become black rockets. "Well that went to hell in a hand basket," I murmur quietly as I finish my task. "There you go, it should be healed by the morning," a said more loudly.
"Thanks," she replied while crawling into her sleeping bag, I savor the simple word. When I patch her up is practically the only time she thanks me for anything; but I don't mind. I love her not that I'd admit that to anyone, hell I barely accept that myself. I'm too scared that she'd reject me and break up the team, not to mention my heart.
I watch her in her sleep, the red of her hair shining in the soft firelight. She is so beautiful, even with the small scratches on her face: she is still beautiful. I wish I could touch her, apart from when she's hurt I think with a sad sigh as I pull of my black t-shirt that's been soaked through with blood. I wince as I gently touch my bloodied ribs, they need stitched but the medi-kit is almost empty, so I have to use tape and bandage it up well till we get back to HQ.
"Good night, my love," I say quietly to Jesse before lying down on my opposite side my face contorting in pain at the movement.
Jesse P.O.V.
I lye as still as possible on my good side, facing him. I wonder if he thinks that I don't notice that he gets hurt worse than I do. I shed silent tears every time I see him hurt and not mention it. He thinks that I'm sleeping whenever he patches himself up; he never wants to let me see him hurt. Sometimes I think it's left over from Jessibelle and her manic training. Now, I see him take off his shirt, usually I revel in the chance to see him even semi naked but with the now black blood makes me want to get up and help him, but I know that he would just be embarrassed and sulk for days.
So I lie here silently cursing myself for loving him and Jessibelle for making is so I cannot help him. I often think about telling him how I feel but I'm too scared of rejection. I couldn't live without James; I'd die if he wasn't here to make me laugh and fix me up when I fall down I'm miss the way I'd make him hot chocolate with mini marshmallows when he has a nightmare about Jessibelle, and how we would play cards with Meouth. If he left I'd miss so much. So much.
Meouth P.O.V.
I hate to see dem kids hurt, but it does em good ta get beat up every once and a while; it gives em something in common. And I know James likes fixin up Jesse, it's the only thin he can really do for her.
I can see the da way dem kids looks at each other: it's sweet. I wonder if day'd ever get together, but then Giovanni would break up da team over fraternization rules. I'd hate that. To loose both of them. For them to loose each other.