Disclaimer: I don't own Poke'mon.
James choked back a sob as he wrote more of the letter he knew he had to finish. The boss wouldn't care; he wouldn't give it a second thought, but he still had to know for business reasons. And whatever James did, he couldn't let a tear touch the paper; it would show his weakness.
"James?" Meowth asked, walking into the dimly lit study. "Do you want anything? Tea?"
James shook his head. "No, no, I'm fine…"
Meowth sighed and sat down by the man's desk sadly. "It's been a week, James."
"A week and everyone's already let her go. How can you do that, Meowth?" James snapped.
"Because I know Jesse wouldn't want us to be torn up over her forever. I know a week doesn't seem like nearly long enough, but if you don't get it together, you'll waste away into nothingness."
"At least then I'd be with her."
Meowth sighed. "I know how much you loved her, James, but I need you to calm down. You're in charge of this team now. The boss can't think you're mentally unstable to lead a Team Rocket mission. We need you, James; I need you. Please, don't let this be your undoing. You know in your heart Jesse wouldn't want that."
James wiped at his eyes and scrawled a few more words across the page before glancing at Meowth. "I'll take that tea, please. And maybe a sandwich."
Meowth smiled slightly and went off to the kitchen.
"I'm sorry, Jess," James whispered, signing the letter and folding it up. He slid it into a slim envelope and sealed it shut. He would never forgive himself; he would always feel like he could have done something to keep her from dying. And for as long as he lived, he would never let her go; she was a part of him.
He opened the drawer of his desk and took out a battered old envelope. He carefully took out the letter concealed inside and unfolded it. It was a letter Jesse had written him a year ago when she had gone to visit her family. He had read it every day until she returned, kept it in his breast pocket, and never let it out of his sight. He clung to the familiar scent and handwriting like a child to its mother. But he treasured her signature most, both for its simple nature and caring message: Love, Red.