He wanted to believe that they were accomplishing something, he wanted to believe that Giovanni monitored them with a prideful smile on his face and that they were some of his most trusted subordinates. Even someone like James had to face the music at one point or another: he, Jessie and Meowth weren't accomplishing anything. Easily over a hundred bursted Meowth balloons, exploded machines and instances of Blasting Off prove that much. That and the number of times the trio had been put in the hospital with broken bones, concussions, internal damage; you name it and the three of them probably experienced it at some point or another in their... "adventure."
James took a deep breath of the warm, slightly moist air around him -thank Arceus he hadn't broken or cracked any ribs this time- wishing for a second that he could just stay on the nice cool, soft ground for the rest of the day. He flexed his fingers, only just barely feeling the blades of grass through the leather of his gloves. He would stay there, but he had to find Jessie and Meowth. James knew for a fact that they had, once again, been blown away separate from each other. He had seen poor Meowth being launched out of their balloon basket just before James fell out and into the forest below (hitting several branches on the way down). He had no idea where Jessie was, and despite the dozens of times she had told (yelled) that she didn't need his help, the blue-haired man couldn't help but worry.
Any normal (and sane, depending on your point of view) man would have abandoned Jessie a long time ago, and not just because her bull-headedness. Jessie wasn't afraid to hit people with whatever was in arm's length; be it her fist, a twig, a frying pan or the famous Paper Fan of Doom. Most men wouldn't have taken that sort of abuse, but then again James wasn't like most men (Butch called him "pussy-whipped" on several occasions), and Jessie was his only human friend in the world- the only human he could count on. A part of him was afraid of what would happen if he ever left Jessie's side, three scenarios played out in his head whenever he considered what life without Jessie and Team Rocket would be.
Scenario one (blown out of proportion, but it could happen): James would live a nice, quiet life in a small town somewhere. Own a nice little house with a cute white picket fence with a play area for his Pokemon. Then out of nowhere Jessie would come floating along armed with a bazooka and force James to come back to Team Rocket -after threatening to blow up his house, of course.
Scenario two (the most realistic one): Jessie would just forget about him, plain and simple.
Scenario three (would never happen EVER): Jessie would sink into a depression, the loss of her best friend causing everything that had ever happened to her to come crashing down around her.
James scoffed as that last scenario played itself over in his head, flipping over onto his stomach with a groan of effort. Jessie was the strongest person he knew, mentally and physically. Hell, once he had found her trying to push a compound fractured bone in her leg back into place after one of her harsher landings. All the while screaming and cursing and yelling at the top of her lungs that, "Arceus fucking damn it, James! I don't need your damn help!"
He winced when he pushed himself up onto his knees, an intense stinging pain originating from his left shoulder, smoldering each and every one of the abused nerves. Emerald eyes went down to his shoulder, and James felt a knot of disgust twist in his stomach at the sight: the shoulder of his uniform top had been completely burned away, revealing a revolting burn. Slick, bright pink of flesh, the dark red of half-dried and wet blood covering the tissue, some areas charred black with the skin around the sore singed and peeled back created a rather gruesome sight. In spite of this James sighed and wobbled to his feet cross stepping when a wave of nausea suddenly hit him, making him feel dizzy and disorientated. Just for fun he pulled off one of his gloves and felt around his scalp, hissing in pain when his bare, sweaty fingers touched a brand new open wound near his right temple. He chuckled humorlessly as he wiped his bloodied fingers on his pants and pulled back on his glove. Another minor concussion. Another burn scar to add to the growing collection that marred his body. Another day of being a member of Team Rocket.
When he, Jessie and Meowth eventually found each other, they would brush themselves off and do the same thing all over again when they caught wind of where that sadistic little twerp and his demon spawn of a Pikachu were headed.
"...We all fall down..." James quoted absently as he set off in the direction his gut told him to go. That old nursery rhyme seemed to fit the three of them so well.