Chapter Two
The clock the team carried in their pack read well past midnight and Jessie was still wide awake. Her partners had both fallen asleep hours ago, but she hadn't been able to join them. Thoughts had been swirling around in her head, unwelcome and unrelenting. She didn't want to think about their constant failure, her horrible anger, or her doubts about her life.
She looked around for something else to dwell on. Her eyes fell on her belt of pokèballs, which was everything she owned. One held Arbok; one, Wobbuffet; another, Litwick; and the last, her meager possessions. She knew the outlier contained a spare uniform, her makeup, a few dollars, what little costume supplies she kept on hand rather than stealing, her hairbrush and hair gel, the hideous pair of glasses she was supposed to wear but never did, her favorite mirror, and her bright red mallet.
Her mind began to wander to those unpleasant thoughts again and she stood up, almost going to organize her things to keep herself busy. Then she remembered that they were about five minutes' walk from a city. She couldn't recall its name, but she figured it didn't matter as long as there was someone there to occupy her time and caffeine to keep her awake the next day.
She pulled out a pen and paper from James's pokèball of possessions and scrawled a note: "I'll be back in the morning. ~Jessie" She didn't do this every night, but it was a common enough occurrence that the pair wouldn't be too worried. Though, there was always a strange tension between her and James the next day. Thinking about that, and the almost disappointed look she would occasionally catch on his face during those times, she felt slightly uncomfortable about the idea.
It doesn't matter, she rationalized as she fixed her makeup. It's not like we're a couple or anything. She brushed out her hair into its trademark swirl and settled the note on her pillow before making her way into town. She would swipe something nicer than her uniform at one of the shops and find a guy at the bar to pay for a drink. She was sure that there would be plenty of them willing. The problem would be finding the right one - someone who wouldn't expect much from her, either in the way of commitment or passion.
As she walked briskly through the trees, a familiar rush of nausea welled up in her. She hated it, but at the same time it thrilled her. She pondered it for a moment until clouds passed in front of the moon and distracted her. If only she had brought Litwick along; it would have provided just enough light to see by. Plus, it was growing on her. It had been a couple days since she had caught it, and now that its leg was doing better - the Pokèmon Center had miraculously not known who they were and healed it right away - she let the candle pokèmon walk alongside them a bit. It was a cute little thing, even though she knew it would grow into something terrifying. It's later evolution, Chandelure, was something she knew even most Team Rocket members were afraid of. This one, though, didn't seem so harmless. Perhaps it was like Magikarp and Gyrados: the former isn't very frightening or useful while the latter is volatile and dangerous.
After running into only one tree, thank goodness, she made it to the edge of the city. The bright lights hurt after all the darkness and she felt that nausea creep in again. She closed her eyes and buried it away, taking a deep breath and striding out into the city, hoping she would be able to ignore it.
(O)
It was very late, now, and she was still awake. Her companion for the night had fallen asleep and she was finally beginning to fade. She felt slightly better than she had earlier; when her mind again began to wander, she leaned into his inviting yet cold embrace.
The thrill from earlier hadn't left. The feeling that she had done something terrible mingled with adrenaline and excitement and coiled inside her. As she tried not to think too hard about it, lest she begin to fear that rebelliousness rather than cultivate it, it rocked her slowly, uncertainly, to sleep.
(O)
Author's Note: So, after a week at family camp, I'm back again! This chapter was inspired by Switchfoot's "Easier than Love". They were my favorite band when I was little, and I never really thought about the lyrics until now. It really makes you think, y'know?
Another thing I'd like to say is that I absolutely adore Rocketshipping. It's so freaking cute. XD It's quickly becoming pretty darn close to my OTP, which is saying something because Layton/Emmy and Luke/Flora are the best. XD
I forgot the disclaimer last time, so, for the whole story, I don't own Pokèmon or Do not go Gentle into that Good Night. (The poem, not the story. XD I just have to say, Dylan Thomas is a mad genius)
Thanks for reading, everyone. See you soon!