Legal disclaimer: I don't own James, Jessie, Meowth, N, Team Plasma, Team Rocket, Carnivine, Patrat, or Zubat. This story starts with my re-imagining of an unaired Pokemon anime episode, combined with an idea I had out of the blue today that demanded to be written down. In that sense, it's sort of a spiritual sequel to No Greater Love, only this one takes place in a different universe (obviously, since in No Greater Love, James had bit it before the story even began). Oddly enough, both stories involve James being trapped under rubble; in this one, James is a whole lot luckier. So, without further ado, I bring you my latest "deep thought" story. Be warned; it may challenge the way you think. It is, after all, Of True Ideals.
James fidgeted inside his new uniform. He'd worn some crazy costumes in his day, but this one took the cake; it was like a renaissance festival gone anime-style. Was he supposed to be some sort of page? A squire? A knight? At least it wasn't actual metal he was wearing, just stiff silver-colored cloth. And then there was that strange logo on his chest: a P and a Z fused together on some sort of shield. This was definitely medeival/techno fusion.
Was Team Plasma insane?
Earlier, as a member of Team Rocket, he'd thought so, but after That Day, that day when he'd faced down Team Plasma alongside his allies Jessie and Meowth, his entire world had turned upside down, taking his heart with it.
The day that he met N Harmonica.
It had been chaos, pure chaos. An entire city had fallen to a terrible – and far from natural – earthquake. Nobody knew who had started it, Team Rocket or Team Plasma, but it had occurred within the most crucial point in the battle, or so they'd said. James didn't even know what had been happening then either, even with his own teammates, which he'd been separated from. He'd been too busy wishing he'd been able to bring Carnivine with him to Unova.
Just before the quake struck, two rather vicious Team Plasma Patrat had had their teeth locked on James' arms, their claws dug in deep, and were drawing his blood faster than a Zubat using Leech Life. James didn't know anything about Patrat, but he was certain that these two had NOT had their rabies shots, and the end result was that he was an easy target for the grunts to knock down, search for Pokemon, realize he didn't have any, and cruelly knock him unconscious (with the Patrat still clinging doggedy to his arms the entire time).
When James woke up, he was trapped under about a thousand pounds of rubble, which was all that was left of the building inside which he'd previously had his own butt handed to him on the proverbial silver platter. Apparently the building had suffered the same fate as well. How ironic.
Amazingly, James was still physically intact, and had plenty of breathing room; he was in a moderately roomy little triangular alcove formed by two collapsed walls leaning in on each other, supported by various other debris. There were several airholes in the alcove, but none big enough to get out of without disturbing the delicate balance of the chance construction that had clearly saved his life. No sign of Jessie and Meowth, though – or anyone, really.
The though that his friends might well be lying dead just a few feet away from him chilled James to the bone. "Please don't let them die," he prayed quietly, to – who? Anyone who would listen, he figured. He didn't care what kind of deity saved his friends, he just wanted them safe and alive. "And, while you're at it, I'm sorry for everything. For all the good that does me right now."
James was too scared to even shout for help, because he could well be crushed beneath the unstable structure. His only hope was that a rescue party would come along and free him from what would otherwise be his final resting place.
And then N came along.