Jessie's punishment for running away was five straight days in the Cinder Room.
When they got back to Donovan's estate, he lowered Jessie, still bound in chains, down into the courtyard where the other girls were being put through their paces by his Indeedee. Jessie kept her head bowed, unwilling to look any of them in the eye, walking with Donovan willingly when he touched down beside her and began herding her inside, knowing full well that this was her first performance on his behalf: a demonstration of what happens when you defy Donovan Star. Unsurprisingly, he led her straight to the Cinder Room, and she went willingly, knowing there was no point in resisting; Serperior came out of its Pokéball, and a pair of Indeedee joined them as well, as Donovan locked them inside the stone cell without a word. Only when he'd donned his gloves did he unlock her chains, then start removing her clothes; when she was down to her undergarments, Serperior whipped her until she was helpless on the ground, and then the Indeedee removed the rest of her clothing, leaving her completely naked on the stone floor.
Then Donovan started shooting her up with his special poison, and there was only pain.
It seemed endless. Key points all over her body got fully injected with the stuff, a single treatment took a third of a vial, and then the blows rained down hard. Sometimes it was Donovan kicking her, sometimes it was Serperior's vines striking her; when Donovan and his Serperior were both busy doing something else, a trio of Indeedee kept up the punishment, hitting crucial injection sites on her stomach or back when her body managed to still itself in a position in which the self-perpetuating torture ended. Whenever she passed out from the agony, a Makuhita was brought in to give her a wake-up slap, and if her muscles locked up and refused to move anymore, that same Makuhita used smelling salts to force her body back into a limber state so she could continue to suffer.
Rarely, there would be a lull, usually so the Indeedee could force-feed her meals - which, almost insultingly, were the same finely-cooked delicacies Donovan always fed his starlets - and make her choke down water. This was always followed by an hour of rest, presumably so she wouldn't puke up the sustenance when the beatings resumed; indeed, it became clear quite quickly why she hadn't been allowed to keep her underwear on, as sometimes the pain was so extreme that Jessie's body simply failed, and she soiled herself. Whenever that happened, another Indeedee came in and cleaned her up, causing another lull so Jessie could be fully conscious for the entire, demeaning affair, and then it was back to the torture. Sometimes, she was allowed to doze in a half-asleep state that only slightly dulled the agony. Once or twice, Donovan brought in a Hatterene, which would use life dew and heal pulse and aromatherapy until Jessie's body was entirely purged of pain, injury, and poison; for the few moments it took the Hatterene to be recalled to its Pokéball, Jessie would be free, and then Donovan would immediately inject her with fresh venom, and she'd be sent back under. Beyond that, all was anguish.
On the rare occasions she was coherent, Jessie managed to cling to a tiny shred of pride, a small flame she nurtured whenever she caught her breath - the fact that Donovan was torturing her to such dangerous extremes meant that her escape must have badly wounded his ego. No matter how much he enjoyed causing pain, she knew he still considered her his most valuable student, so risking her life and sanity like this just to soothe his bruised pride was a testament to how deeply her defiance had cut, and she allowed herself to be smug knowing that. Maybe it had been a mistake to pull that childish face at him after all…but the moment she allowed herself to regret that, she would be letting him win, and as hopeless as her situation was, she refused to give him that.
And when the pain was so overwhelming that she felt her mind start to crack apart and drift away from her body, she would cling to thoughts of emerald eyes framed by lavender hair, of elaborate costumes and perfect coordination in impromptu dances, of rhymes recited back-to-back and days spent roughing it in a hot air balloon…of sweet lips and gentle hands, of unconditional support and tender understanding. Thoughts of James were intensely bittersweet - sweet, because it was him, and bitter, because she'd been so oblivious to what she'd had in him for so long, unable to see what had been blindingly obvious to the point that she couldn't help but hate herself for her own stupidity now. And it was that dichotomy of emotion, the fondness and the regret, that kept her sane, aware of who she was and what she was living for, no matter how intense her punishment got.
So it was that, clinging to memories of her partner and a few dying embers of pride, Jessie endured. Days of unfathomable abuse, indescribable pain and utter humiliation, passed with no end in sight, and she survived, even when she was pushed far beyond any limit she'd ever even suspected she had.
Then, on the sixth evening after her return to Starstruck Academy, during a lull in the beatings, a human voice spoke.
"Jessica?"
She knew that voice, and knew to fear it. Shaking, unable to muster enough strength to respond, she held still, praying that he would leave.
"Look at me, Jessica."
A whimper escaped her lips, there was nothing she could do about it. Still, she kept her eyes closed, trying not to move.
There was a sigh. "Makuhita?" she heard Donovan's voice ask. "I think she needs another smelling salts attack."
Gasping with fear, Jessie forced her eyes open, allowing herself to look up at the gorgeous face of her tormentor.
"Never mind," Donovan purred, holding up one gloved hand to keep the Makuhita back. "She's okay." His perfect lips curled into a smirk as he gazed down at her. "Now then, darling Jessica," he said, "have you learned your lesson?"
Any thoughts of spiting him were long since extinguished; Jessie felt only desperation and pain. "Please," she choked out. "Please, no more…please…" Sobbing, she felt hot liquid pour down her face, her vision blurring and mercifully obscuring the sight of the man whose beauty had once blinded her to the monster waiting just below the surface.
Donovan chuckled, the sound tearing at her badly-frayed soul, and she cringed, trying to focus on thoughts of James to maintain herself. A gloved finger touched her sopping wet cheek, and she heard another whimper squirm its way out of her throat. "That's what I like to hear," her captor said smugly.
Rustling and boot steps made Jessie open her eyes again, blinking her vision clear to see him walking away, reaching for a small bundle held by one of his Indeedee. Turning back to her, he flung the handful of fabric across the room in her direction.
"Get dressed," he ordered as the silk sheath came apart in the air and fluttered to the floor just beyond where her hand rested. "Now, Jessica, or the punishment resumes."
"Okay," she choked, her voice little more than a whisper, and she forced her aching, poisoned hand to reach out and grasp the thin fabric. Struggling against the hotspots of venom and the bruises that covered her from head to toe, Jessie worked to maneuver her way into the garment, whimpering and crying out with every movement that strained her battered body. It took her several minutes to get her head and arms through the holes, but she was relieved to at least be covered again.
"Stand up," Donovan commanded, returning his gloves to the metal cabinet that held his torture tools. "It's time for you to go back to your room."
Shaking, Jessie forced her way to her feet, depending heavily on the stone wall for support as she tried to rise without bending her joints too much; by the time she succeeded, she was gasping and dizzy from the effort. As soon as she was standing on her throbbing legs, Donovan came over and took hold of her arm in a crushing grip, making no attempt to avoid aggravating several bruises and a small prick of venom. Helpless, she allowed him to lead her out of the chamber of horrors and into his beautiful, lavish manor.
All the wealth on display around her only made Jessie sick as she walked. A gilded dungeon was still a dungeon, after all; the only difference was that the gilded one was more likely to lure its captives in and make them think they wanted it.
She wondered if James felt the same way about wealthy estates since escaping his family.
At last, Donovan opened a door and dragged her through, leading her into a room not unlike the one James had rescued her from - it was clearly different, as there were no traces of damage on the far wall, but it was just as cozy, just as pretty, and just as much of a honey-coated lie. Roughly, he hefted her and shoved her onto the mattress, where she fell on her back, crying out as her limbs were forced to move in ways that set off the injection sites all over her body. The softness of the bed was almost cruel - it was more difficult to find a position in which her frame could rest without searing agony ripping through her than it had been on solid stone.
"Your classes resume tomorrow," Donovan told her calmly, and when she looked at him, she saw him elegantly toss his perfect hair, his mahogany eyes gleaming with delight. "Don't be late, or you will be punished." He smirked. "Good night, Jessica."
"Donovan?"
"Hm?" He stopped mid-turn and looked back at her when she breathed his name.
"Could you please…" She swallowed, trembling. "Could you…open the window…for me? Please? Please, I…I need air…please…"
Slowly, ponderously, he turned back around and took a step towards her.
"Please," she repeated, choking on a sob. "Please, I beg you…Just a little air…"
He chuckled. "I do so like it when you beg, Jessica," he remarked, grinning. "And good behavior should be rewarded. Very well."
To her amazement, he stepped around her to the window by her bedside, took out a key, and unlocked a mechanism hidden in the frame. With a soft grunt, he shoved at the metal and glass barrier, and it hinged outward, a few struts allowing it to open only just so far that it wouldn't quite be wide enough for a person to stick their head outside. Jessie knew full well there would be no point in screaming anyway - the estate was too isolated, there was nothing but untouched wilderness out beyond the glass.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Rest well, my dear," he purred, and he turned and left, switching off the light before shutting and locking the door behind him, the deadbolt thunking with finality, as though Jessie might have had the strength to even get up and open an unlocked door after everything she'd been through.
Finally, she was alone, for the first time in days.
A soft breeze picked up outside and gusted through the opening, drifting across Jessie's fevered skin and carrying with it the scent of night. She closed her eyes and breathed it in, remembering the cold gusts that had swirled around the old Rocket balloon when she was scouting the land with her team. It was a faint, teasing taste of the freedom she would never have again, and she savored it for a long minute.
Then, she broke down and allowed herself to cry.
Soft sobs echoed through the warm bedroom as Jessie allowed her tears to flow free at last - not tears of pain, but of loss, of grief and despair and regret, mourning everything that had been taken from her. All of this was her own fault, she was fully aware - James had tried to stop her from falling for Donovan's pretty lies, and she'd shouted at him and hit him and walked away, stupidly believing she could find a happier life than one spent by his side. How could she possibly have been so blind? So naïve? Everything about Donovan's initial offer had been too good to be true, and she'd known that - how had she allowed herself to be so thoroughly fooled?
And now, it didn't matter. Now, she would never see James again, never have a chance to explore just how much he meant to her, and she to him…never get to make her own career, find her own success on her own terms; never build a happy life, or one she could be proud of-
"Rookidee!"
A chirp interrupted her internal lament, and Jessie blinked her overflowing eyes open to see a ball of blue and yellow feathers wriggle its way through the open window and hop over to stand by her head.
"Rook rook rook!" it chattered at her. "Rooki rook!"
"Rookidee," she said softly. "I should have known you'd be watching."
"Rookidee!" it said. Then its expression fell, and it leaned forward and gently placed its tiny beak in her hair. "Rook," it cooed. "Rookidee."
"Is James okay?" Jessie asked it desperately. "Is he safe?"
"Rookidee!" the tiny bird Pokémon chirped quickly, nodding its head in assurance.
"Good," she breathed. "I'm so glad…" Her sigh of relief became a hiss as the tension leaving her body set off a couple of injection sites.
"Rook rook!" her dedicated companion said, resting its feathered breast in the crook of her neck, nuzzling her in a clear attempt to comfort her. "Rookidee, rook Rookidee!"
"You can't stay," Jessie told it softly. "If he finds you, he…I don't know what he'll do. But you have to go. Please, Rookidee, go, tell James I survived and…and take care of him, okay? Please? He's…" She smiled sadly. "He's kind of useless on his own, he needs someone looking after him. Will you look after him for me? Please?"
"Rookidee!" the little bird said adamantly, and it pressed closer to her.
"Please," she repeated, more softly now. "Please, go look after James. He's a wonderful trainer, he'll take good care of you. And…" She blinked, fresh tears welling in her eyes. "And tell him…that I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't realize how much he meant to me until it was too late. This is all my fault, I was stupid and got myself into a situation I can't get out of, because I didn't realize he was the prince I always prayed for." Saltwater flowed, and she choked on her tears.
"Rookidee," her Pokémon told her, and it seemed like it was trying to get something across. "Rooki rook!"
"That Serperior would have killed him," she told it softly. "It was enjoying squeezing the life out of him, and…I think Donovan used it to murder his own parents. James was right about it, you know? He knew there was something off about that snake's eyes the moment he saw it, and I…I just ignored him…but please, you have to tell him to get far away from here and not look back." She shifted, as much as her battered body would allow, trying to find some way to convey how important this was. "I need to know he's safe. As long as I know that, I…I'll be okay."
"Rookidee," the bird insisted.
"Tell him that the only thing that got me through Donovan's torture was thinking of him," she told Rookidee, her voice lowering to a raspy whisper. "And tell him that…I'll always cherish every memory of him I have, that…that our years roughing it together, chasing after that stupid Pikachu, dressing up in wild costumes and coming up with crazy schemes and piloting giant robots and getting sent blasting off every few days, they…" She swallowed hard, trying to dislodge a lump that was closing her throat. "Tell him those were the happiest days of my life," she croaked, "and I wouldn't trade them for anything. Please, Rookidee. Please go tell him that. Tell him I'm sorry I'll never get to tell him how much he means to me, how grateful I am for everything he gave for me, how much I cherished our partnership and how much I wish we had a chance to find out how much further it could have gone. Will you tell him all that? Please?"
"Rookidee," the bird said, and it sounded sad now, its little red eyes glistening in the faint moonlight that lit its side through the window.
"Go tell him that," Jessie urged it. "Please, Rookidee, I need you to go tell him that. He won't understand you, but Meowth will translate, and I need him to know all of what I've said tonight. Please."
"Rook."
"Go, Rookidee."
"Rook."
"Go!" Jessie sobbed, jerking with her need to make it leave. "Please, Rookidee, I need you to go!"
"Rookidee," the tiny ball of feathers sighed, but it hopped off her bed to the windowsill. It looked back at her one more time, then squeezed its way out the opening and fluttered away.
"Goodbye," Jessie whispered after it.
And she resumed crying until the force of her grief sent her drifting off to sleep.
~R~
Cries of heartbreak filled the still-abandoned warehouse that the remaining Rockets had reclaimed to use as their base of operations that night.
Five long days had been spent scouting the exterior of the Star estate from a distance in the balloon, as there was very little else James felt he could do at this point - aside from his determination to see the wretched place burn to the ground, there wasn't much else he could think of to the end of coming up with a plan. Though planning was something he was capable of when he really put his mind to it, this time, he was so terrified of failure that it was hard to think. Instead, he'd chosen to wait on Rookidee's information before proceeding…and the information it finally brought back very nearly broke him. Meowth barely managed to choke out all of Jessie's message himself, and then all five of them huddled together and wept.
Scrabbling for composure, James eventually managed to stutter out, "W-W-Wobb-uffet?"
"W-W-Wobbu?" whimpered the blue blob.
"H-Hit me," James choked through his tears. "P-Please, hit me. Hard."
"Wobbu?"
"Just do it!" James shouted, rivers of tears pouring down his face.
"Wo…?" Wobbuffet hesitated a moment, then lifted one of its stubby arms and whacked James across the back of the head.
The jolt of sensation broke through James's emotional overload, and he gasped, struggling his way back to relative coherence. "Thanks," he told Jessie's Pokémon, wiping his face off on his glove.
"Woooo-bbuffet," it proclaimed, saluting proudly.
"W-We gotta tell Jess we're comin'," Meowth whimpered. "Dat she don't gotta give up, we're gonna get her outta dere…"
"Rookidee is our only in," James growled, fists clenching. "If only it could tell her…"
"It tried," Meowth sniffled. "It said it did. She didn't understand it."
"Of course not," James muttered. "She didn't have you there to translate…"
"Maybe ya could send a lettah wid' it-?"
"No," James answered immediately, shaking his head. "If I send her a letter and Donovan finds it, we're done. Especially if-" He blinked, suddenly realizing something.
"What?" Meowth asked, nudging James's leg. "What is it, James?"
"Meowth," James said slowly, "did you say Jessie said Donovan used his Serperior to murder his parents?"
"Dat's what Rookidee says," Meowth responded, and he turned to their informant. "Jessie did say dat, right Rookidee?"
"Rook rook!" Rookidee nodded firmly.
Opportunity struck then, like a break in a thick cover of storm clouds letting a ray of sunlight shine through, and James felt himself breathe in deeply, suddenly almost giddy. "That's perfect," he breathed. "If he's a murderer, then once we destroy everything he has, our endgame can be to make sure he ends up behind bars and can't rebuild. And we can tell Galarian authorities everything ourselves, because the boss said he would claim he didn't know us if we crossed paths with them."
Meowth gave a soft "oh" of understanding. "Dat's pretty clevah, Jimmy," he remarked. "Still don't help us wid' da hard part, though."
"But maybe Jessie can," James said, his voice still soft with wonder. "She's already given us inside information, and she might have more that she doesn't know we need. If I can just tell her we're working to take Donovan Star down, she could tell us anything we need to know to formulate a real plan."
"Dat's great and all," Meowth sighed, "but we still don't got a way ta tell her anyt'in'."
James slumped. "True…" His mind racing, he tried to think. If he could just look her in the eye, he could tell her everything without saying a word - they always understood each other, they were in such perfect sync that they didn't need to speak to communicate. But there was no way he could safely get that close - Rookidee might not raise any alarms, but the Rocket balloon, or even a single person climbing the wall of the estate, definitely would. If only there was some way he could safely send a message she would understand…
Maybe it was desperation, but all of a sudden, James got an idea. Jessie knew him, as he knew her, maybe if he just put a little faith in their connection he could convey a message without running the risk of being found out. Before he knew it, he was digging through the team's meager supplies, shoving aside mostly-empty boxes before coming up with a tiny can of matchsticks. He took one out, eyed it, then went for his things.
"Whatcha doin' dere, Jimbo?" Meowth asked.
"It's a long shot," James murmured, mostly talking to himself as he pulled out a specific bottle cap, some adhesive, and a thin cord, "but if I can just…"
Growling with frustration, he struggled with his supplies for a couple of minutes, eventually realizing he had to use a nail to poke a small hole in the tarnished bit of metal he cherished, but it was worth it when he could be sure it wouldn't fall off the cord.
"Here," he said at last, approaching Rookidee, "wear this." And he placed the makeshift necklace around the tiny bird's nonexistent neck, the wire resting against the joints of its wings.
"Rookidee?" the little Pokémon asked.
"So she knows I sent you," James explained. "And then…" Biting his tongue in concentration, he lifted one of the sharp corners of the bottle cap and started gouging a little hole in the phosphor-coated head of the matchstick, digging into the flammable lump and turning his makeshift tool to shape the imprint until it was deep enough to be distinct and just right. "Give her this," he told Rookidee, holding up the twig and showing it the six-pointed shape he'd made in the phosphor. "As soon as she sees this shape, and realizes what it is, light the match and hand it to her. She'll know what it means."
"Will she?" Meowth asked.
"She'll have to," James growled.
"Rooki rook," Rookidee chirped, and its eyes looked almost ashamed.
"It's sayin' it doesn't know how ta light a match," Meowth informed James.
"Then we'll take today to teach you," James stated. "It won't be safe to go to her again until tomorrow night anyway, so we have a whole day for you to learn. Even if we end up ruining every match we have left besides this one, you need to be able to do this for her."
"Rookidee," Rookidee conceded, nodding just enough that its necklace didn't run the risk of slipping off.
"Good," James nodded back, and he went and grabbed the can of matches.
~R~
Somehow, Jessie managed to get through her first day back in class at Starstruck Academy without completely collapsing. Donovan had no qualms about hitting her, and her form suffered from the injuries she was already dealing with, but she endured.
Rose was by her side from the moment Jessie came to breakfast to the moment they parted for the night, offering as much support and comfort as she dared. It was through her that Jessie learned she'd been back on the Star estate for six whole days, as she'd quickly lost track of time during her torture in the Cinder Room.
"The longest he's ever kept anyone in there before was two days," Rose informed Jessie over lunch. "Danielle packed her things and tried to escape one night, but the Indeedee caught her as soon as she broke the lock and the deadbolt. She…hasn't been the same since."
"I can imagine," Jessie murmured, feeling mostly numb.
"If you spent five whole days in there, it's amazing you still know your own name," Rose remarked. "You're so strong, Jessica. I wish I was more like you." She frowned. "Not that it would do me any good in here. We were all really happy for you that you escaped, you know? It…gave us hope. But now…"
"I won't be held responsible for your morale!" Jessie snapped.
"It's not your fault," Rose told her. "We don't blame you. We just wish…"
"Yeah," Jessie sighed, her brief flare of anger dying quickly. "Me too."
But wishing, she knew, accomplished nothing. Her only goal in life now was to retain enough of herself that she wouldn't be made into Donovan's 'perfect bride' - the mere thought of him touching her chilled her to her core, she would not allow herself to end up so far gone that she wouldn't fight it. It was so different from what she had wanted when she'd first arrived here, and the irony was not lost on her, but she didn't care. She would not break that far.
Even so, it was hard to care when the Indeedee led her back to her solitary room, barely able to stay on her feet after another day of dance practice and relentless beatings. The venom was still a couple of days away from wearing off completely, but at least her stamina had recovered from the torture enough for her to clean up in her private bathroom and get into bed on her own.
Then, as she settled in, aching and exhausted, she heard a rustling at the window.
"Rookidee!"
No.
Disbelieving, Jessie turned over at the sound of the low chirp to see Rookidee squeeze its way back through her open window and hop over to her.
"What are you doing here?!" she hissed at it. "I told you to look after James!"
"Rookidee!" it proclaimed, fluffing its yellow breast feathers, and that was how she noticed that there was something resting against its chest.
"What is that?" she asked softly.
"Rook rook!" it responded, and with one tiny foot, it nudged at a twig it had carried in through the window.
It was too dark to see anything useful. Groaning, Jessie forced herself up and across the room to turn on the light switch. When she dragged herself back to Rookidee, she got a clear view of what it was wearing, and her heart skipped a beat: it was a tarnished old gold-colored bottle cap, emblazoned with a red "R".
"That's…" she breathed, bending over and gently cradling the little makeshift pendant with two fingers, memories flooding back at the sight. "That's James's old bottle cap, the one he kept as a memento of our days in training." A sad smile stretched her lips. "I guess he must have kept it closer than the rest, since his collection hasn't fared so well on our journeys…"
"Rookidee!" chirped the bird Pokémon, and it bent down and picked up the twig it had brought inside, holding it out to her with a muffled, "Rook!"
"Hm?" Taking it, Jessie realized it wasn't a twig, but a matchstick. "A match…? I don't understand…what's this for?"
"Rooki rook!" the tiny bird chirped, and it snatched it back, laid it down on the sheets where it was perched, and poked it with its little claws until it turned over. "Rook," it said, prodding at the head of the match.
"Huh?" Jessie could see, now, that the phosphor coating was a little malformed, but the insistent way Rookidee chirped and poked at it made her pick up the tiny bit of wood and examine it closer. There was a hole cut in the flammable lump at the end, like a six-pointed star, and it looked a little too deliberate.
Frowning, Jessie took hold of the bottle cap hanging from Rookidee's neck again and turned it over, searching the insides of the sharp corners. Sure enough, wedged inside one of them was a bit of powder that matched the chunk missing off the matchstick.
"Did you make this cut?" Jessie asked Rookidee.
It shook its head.
"Did…James make this cut?" she asked, eyeing the star-shaped hole again.
"Rook!" the little bird nodded. "Rookidee!"
Without warning, it suddenly darted up and plucked the bit of wood from Jessie's fingers, then flew to the window. Startled, Jessie lunged after it without thinking. It landed on the windowsill, poked its head outside, and struck the match along the stone exterior of the building, lighting a tiny flame. Then it turned back to her and proffered the ignited stick.
"What…?" Jessie took the burning splinter before the fire reached Rookidee's beak, watching the flame consume it. "Did James tell you to do that?"
"Rookidee!" the feathered Pokémon chirped in confirmation.
"But…" Still staring, Jessie watched the fire eat its way along the wood, holding on until the last second before she had to drop it, leaving a couple of bits of black soot to fall to the windowsill. What could it mean? A star, her days in training with James, and fire…
Suddenly, it clicked, and Jessie gasped as a new flame lit in her chest. Her heart started pounding, strength coursing through her veins at the implications.
"James…" she breathed, gazing at the stars and almost imagining she could see his smirking face outlined in them, and a smile stretched her own lips that quickly split into a grin. Shaking with euphoria, she turned her expression on Rookidee and saw the way its little red eyes gleamed in response - all the confirmation she needed that she'd understood correctly. "Tell James, message received, loud and clear," she told Rookidee. "And tell him that anything he needs from me to make it happen, he only has to find a way to let me know."
"Rookidee!" Rookidee proclaimed, fluffing its breast feathers against its necklace, and it pushed its way out the open window to flutter into the sky.
Dazed, Jessie gazed down at the black smear on the windowsill. A slight breeze lifted and blew it away to get lost in the shag carpet, like the useless husk it was. She felt more alive than she had in nearly a week, and she couldn't wait for morning.
In the name of Team Rocket, Donovan Star, and everything attached to him, will be burned to the ground.
~R~
It was difficult for Jessie to sleep that night, and even more difficult for her to keep her head down the next day. She knew she couldn't give Donovan any reason to suspect what was coming for him, and she focused on her injuries, trying to keep her outward appearance as broken and beaten-down as she had been before. Underneath, though, her mind was racing. If James wasn't attacking now, that meant he was taking the time to come up with a plan…and if they had time, then there was something she realized she needed to be sure of.
Donovan never ate with his starlets, but he liked to walk in on their meals unexpectedly, just to make sure they were behaving. During his dinner visit, Jessie took a deep breath, mustering all the timidness and patheticness she'd spent the whole day gathering, and forced her voice to come out in a soft whimper.
"Donovan?"
"Yes, Jessica?" Donovan asked, turning his mahogany eyes on her immediately; the other girls shivered, and Jessie forced herself to wince. "What is it?"
"I…" Jessie made a show of taking a deep, shaking breath, as though terrified. "May I…please stay with the other girls? Please?"
"Why would you want that?" Donovan inquired, his lips curling into a lopsided smirk. "You're our leading lady, not on their level."
"I…" Again, Jessie performed her best, swallowing hard and shuddering. "I just…I don't want to be alone," she answered, breaking eye contact with him to stare at her food. "Please?"
"Hmm…" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him toss his perfect hair elegantly. "I have nothing to gain from letting you sleep with the riffraff, Jessica," he began.
"Don't you?" Jessie softly asked, thinking quickly. "I thought you wanted to make an example of me. Shouldn't they see that example day and night, not just during classes?" Maybe this was going too far, but it was a risk she had to take.
A dangerous moment of silence met this suggestion. "Jessica," Donovan said at last, stalking over to her, "a proper idol isn't intelligent."
The blow came down hard on the back of her neck, right on an injection site, and Jessie's scream of pain was in no way forced. She crumpled, her body jerking as she struggled not to set off another key spot, agony reverberating through her whole being.
"You make a valid argument," he said while she caught her breath. "Very well. Your things will be returned to your old bed."
"Thank you," she choked, and it took no effort to sound strained. Then she realized something else, and added, "And can I still have an open window? Please?"
"You're making a lot of demands tonight," Donovan remarked, and she shivered. "Give me a reason, Jessica, and perhaps I'll give you what you want."
There was really only one thing she could do. Swallowing all her pride, knowing his downfall depended on her, Jessie stood up from her seat, turned to stand in front of him, then got down on the floor in a full-body bow of submission, her face bent over his feet.
"Please," she begged him, "please, Donovan, I beg of you, let me have an open window. Just let me be with the others, and have some air, that's all I ask. Please, Donovan, please…" Straining herself, she thought of James, summoning memories of hitting him and taking him for granted when he'd done nothing but support her, and also clenched her thighs enough to trigger a couple of venom spots. All of this allowed her to force a stream of tears from her eyes, enough that the clear saltwater dripped onto Donovan's steel-toed boots, and the splash of liquid on the polished metal gave her a surge of pride that she struggled hard not to show.
"My, my," Donovan purred, kneeling down and grasping her chin with his fingers to force her to look up at him. When she met his cruel, dark brown eyes, his fingertips shifted, sliding along the tear tracks on her cheeks. "Such a good girl," he murmured. "Maybe it's already almost time to bleach your hair?"
A cry of horror wrenched its way out of Jessie's throat before she could stop it, her whole body jerking away from him in fear.
"Hmm…" Donovan frowned, eyeing the wetness on his fingertips. "Perhaps not." He stood up, tilted his head, and without warning, stomped down on one of Jessie's hands, right where a fading injection site still burned. When she screamed in agony, he laughed and tossed his hair. "You'll have your air," he said, "and your old bed. But try not to ask anything more of me, darling, or we may have to do a little more work dousing any potential flames."
Chuckling, he strode away, flipping his perfect hair with perfect elegance. Jessie waited until he was gone, then got up and returned to her seat.
"Jessica?" Rose asked softly. "Are you okay?"
Mindful of the Indeedee in the room that were always listening on behalf of their master, Jessie glanced over at Rose and nodded slightly.
"Why did you do that?" Rose whimpered. "It wasn't worth it."
"It was to me," Jessie told the girl in a low voice. Feeling bold, she met the brunette's eyes again, and offered a quick wink.
Rose blinked in surprise, but Jessie returned her attention to her food, pointedly eating tiny nibbles at a time, like Donovan had taught them to do. Inside, she was almost shaking with giddiness. Finally, she was the one to pull one over on her captor! And this would only be the first time of many…
When they were led back to their room for the night, sure enough, the Indeedee ushered Jessie along with the other girls, and the window she'd tried to open her first night in this prison was as wide as it could go, same as the one Donovan had opened for her in her private room. Jessie made a show of being relieved and grateful, placing her face in the opening with rapture as the Indeedee made sure the girls were all in order before they left and locked and bolted the door. As the last lock closed, Jessie finally let out a breath and smiled, straightening her posture as she waited for her Rookidee to tell her what James needed.
"Jessica?"
Rose's soft voice drew Jessie's attention to where the girl had come to stand at her side.
"Rose," Jessie greeted, and she tilted her head, as something occurred to her. "Say," she whispered, lowering her voice as far as it could go and leaning close, "are any of these girls genuinely loyal to Donovan? If they had a chance to get out of here, would they choose to stay?"
"Uh…" Rose blinked. "None of us really want to be here, not anymore - we're not loyal to him by choice. But what does that matter? We're his now, it doesn't matter what we want."
"Don't give up hope just yet," Jessie murmured. Glancing around the room at the occupied beds, she saw that all of the girls were curled up under their sheets. Even if Rose didn't think any of them would deliberately spoil a potential escape plan, the fewer people knew what was really going on, the better. Leaning closer, she asked, "Can I tell you a secret, and trust that you'll keep it?"
"O-Of course," Rose whispered. "What is it?"
Jessie smiled. "A truly good performer can cry on command," she confided smugly.
"What?" Rose blinked.
"I'm sorry you had to see me beg on my hands and knees like that," Jessie whispered quickly, "but it was the only way to get in here without keeping my contact from reaching me. I have a partner on the outside who's working to take down this sham of an academy. He should be sending me a message any minute."
"Wh…?" Rose's eyes widened. "You're police?" she breathed.
"No!" Jessie laughed, quickly struggling to bring her voice back down before anyone suspected anything. "No," she repeated in a whisper, "and that means we can do things the police can't do. James and I are going to burn this whole place to the ground."
"Oh." Rose's eyes softened in the moonlight. "I guess you didn't quite get out of the Cinder Room in one piece after all, huh?" she said sympathetically. "Jessica, it's nice that you have hope, but no one's going to rescue us."
Growling with irritation, Jessie turned to the window again. Rookidee should be here by now… Daring to take a risk, she pushed her face as far out the window as she possibly could, then let out a low whistle.
The sound seemed to shatter the still, quiet night, and Jessie prayed that only one individual heard. No sounds of footsteps or a key in the lock came from the door, and after a few moments, a small, round bird emerged from the darkness.
"Rook!" chirped Rookidee, squeezing its way through the window. Fluffing its breast feathers, it chattered its name, almost admonishingly.
"I'm sorry about the change of room," Jessie told it. "I only just thought of it today. But I'll be able to help James better from here. Do you have a message for me?"
"Rookidee," the little bird Pokémon nodded, and it held out one foot, to which Jessie noticed there was a small, rolled-up bit of paper tied with string.
"What's this…?" she murmured, untying the fragment and holding it up to the moonlight. "A piece of a map…?" There were no words on it, and it was too small of a scrap for Jessie to be able to tell what it was of. "Rose, do you know what this bit of map is of?" she asked, turning to the awestruck brunette standing beside her.
"Uh…" Shaking herself, her companion stepped forward to peer at the fragment in the faint light. "It's from a standard map of Galar. I think that's…" She frowned. "It might actually be where we are now."
"Ah." Jessie nodded as she understood. "I like the way you think, James," she murmured to herself. Then she met Rookidee's eyes and handed back the map piece. "Unfortunately, I don't know a lot about most of this estate - we're only allowed into certain rooms. But there aren't any human employees here, only Pokémon - mostly Indeedee, though there are a Makuhita and a Hatterene in here somewhere, and Serperior, of course." She frowned. "All of them have been trained to attack and torture humans, they all do Donovan's bidding, so you can't dismiss them. Aside from that…every door has a lock and a deadbolt on the outside, or at least most of them do, but few if any lock from the inside; all the windows are reinforced and secretly barred in such a way that you can't tell if you're on the outside looking in, and none of them open further than this one does here. I…don't know much more than that that James can't tell by scouting from our balloon, but maybe some of the other girls know more, I'll see what else I can find out." Glancing back at the sleeping starlets again, she leaned closer to Rookidee and said, "There are nine other girls in here with me, and if we're going to destroy Donovan's empire, we need to rescue them, too. All of them have had their legal records wiped clean, but maybe James can find their families…" She glanced at Rose. "This one's named Rose, I don't know about the others. I'll try to ask around when I get a chance, okay? Come back tomorrow night, and I should know more."
"Rookidee," Rookidee nodded, and it squeezed its way out the window and flew off.
"Jessica…" Rose whimpered, and Jessie turned to her. "This is a bad idea," the girl said. "Wasn't it bad enough being tortured for escaping once? It's not worth it. He'll just find us and…" She shivered with terror, her whole body curling in on itself.
"We won't let that happen," Jessie stated. "James knows that if he just gets us out, we'll be followed - we have to stop Donovan at the source of his power." For a moment, she hesitated. Then, mustering thoughts of James, she tried reaching out and taking the girl's hand, the way James sometimes had for her, doing her best to mimic his gentle nature. "You asked me to trust you when I first came here," she told Rose; "I didn't listen to you, and I should have. Now, I'm asking you to trust me. Please, will you help me work to take this monster down?"
"I…" Rose swallowed, her sweaty hand gripping Jessie's back tightly. "I'll…I'll try," she answered.
Biting back a wave of irritation at the noncommittal reply, knowing full well that getting annoyed would only cause Rose to recoil, Jessie forced a smile that she hoped was comforting. "Good," she told her. "That's all I can ask of you."
~R~
In the days that followed, Team Rocket's temporary Galarian base was a mess of war strategizing. Plans were drawn up, examined, crumpled up and tossed in the trash, then retrieved to be salvaged for pieces that might work. James felt the overwhelming pressure to get everything right, knowing he had only one chance, and quite frankly, he was terrified - Wobbuffet had to smack him out of a panic attack once a day.
Information came from Jessie in a steady stream, courtesy of Donovan Star's other victims as they were slowly questioned without revealing that a plan was in the works. James wrote it all down exactly as Meowth said Rookidee recounted it, and though it wasn't what he'd been expecting, it could all only prove useful. The note about the state of the estate's employees, in particular, caught James's attention - if there were only Pokémon, were they caught Pokémon, or were they employed by some other method? A couple of trinkets marked with question marks sent to Jessie conveyed his question, and she got him an answer two days later: every Pokémon on the estate had a Pokéball, though only the Makuhita and Hatterene were ever actually kept inside of them; the balls themselves were apparently locked in a vault somewhere on the property. James had already intended to order some means of scanning the manor to map out its interior, but that finalized that item being on the list.
More information on the Pokémon came without James asking, and a surprising amount of it: there were exactly thirty Indeedee, and those thirty were apparently comprised of several generations, all bred for the Star family's use, and all entirely loyal to whoever was in charge of the Star household. The Hatterene was also an old family Pokémon, and Jessie's messages about it recounted its role in her torture with chilling detail, as well as providing additional insight from the girls who'd been trapped at Starstruck Academy long enough to have put on public performances that it always healed Donovan's starlets before they were allowed out of the property, so that no one would ever be able to guess what happened on the Star family estate. The Makuhita, meanwhile, had apparently been imported from Hoenn during Donovan's first attempt at extended torture, specifically for its smelling salts attack that would prevent a victim's body from staying locked up from the agony of the Toxapex venom ministrations; this, too, Jessie gave a chilling firsthand account of. There were no other Pokémon on the estate, Jessie was eventually able to confirm, but thirty-two Pokémon that had no qualms about using their powers on human victims - thirty-three, counting Donovan's murderous Serperior - definitely made James's attempts at formulating a plan more complicated, and more nerve-wracking.
Most surprising was Jessie's insistence at rescuing Donovan's other victims. She sent him as much information about the girls as she could - names, ages, how long they'd been there. Their names were Rose, Lacy, Danielle, Edna, Vivian, Lila, Tabitha, Melody, and Felicity, all between the ages of fourteen and twenty-six, and all taken in over the course of the last two years. The gaps between recruitments were almost uniform in length, including the time between the second-most-recent girl, Lila, and Jessie herself, and James felt a chill when he realized that that same time gap was identical to the one between Pokémon contests in Motostoke - of course, the contests had been arranged by Donovan himself, with the specific intention of scouting for victims. Worse, there would be another contest in about a month, meaning they were on a time clock. Rookidee insisted that Jessie was adamant that James find the captives' families, and it would certainly help keep Donovan behind bars if James could prove the man had tampered with legal records, but not having access to those records himself, James had to use roundabout methods and ask around while wearing a number of disguises. This yielded very little in terms of results, and he added equipment he could use for hacking government databases to the list of things he would order from the boss's blank-check offer.
One thing was relatively simple: how to take down the estate itself. Here, James's own history with wealth actually proved useful for once, as he remembered the older parts of his childhood home, and how the generations-old building wasn't quite up to code in places. Donovan may have renovated some aspects of his estate in the interest of turning it into a prison, but certain things about a building's foundation and supporting frame simply couldn't be replaced, only reinforced. The initial days of scouting the manor from a distance hadn't been for nothing, either; between his own external surveillance, Rookidee's reconnaissance, and Jessie's inside information, James was fairly confident he could estimate how many explosives it would take to completely shatter the building. Still, he wanted to be precise, and recalculated his math almost a dozen times a day, getting a slightly different answer each time.
Rookidee always assured James that Jessie was enduring Donovan's abuse just fine, but he couldn't help but worry, and one night, he sent a small trinket as an offer. When Jessie received the tiny sewn dress with a red "R" and a question mark embroidered on the front, she frowned for a minute, then immediately shook her head as soon as she understood.
"No," she told Rookidee. "No way, absolutely not, tell him not to even think about it, he wouldn't last one hour in here!" Drawing a breath, mindful of the sleeping girls who by now knew to leave Jessie and Rose alone at night, she mustered her patience and lowered her voice. "I'm sure he could pull it off," she told the bird Pokémon, "but I can't let him be put through that. I'm the only inside agent we need, he's not going to set foot on this property until the walls come down and that's final. Understood?"
"Rookidee!" her little bird nodded, and it took back the scrap of cloth and flew away.
"Donovan only lets women in here," Rose said quietly from Jessie's side; the girl had gotten attached to these nightly meetings, and Jessie let her listen in, hoping it would help convince the petite brunette that rescue really was close at hand. "Ones he intends to keep."
"We know," Jessie sighed. "But James has disguised himself as a woman several times, and he always pulls it off remarkably well." A smirk tugged at her lips. "Donovan may be handsome, but I doubt he could wear a dress as well as James does." Her smirk faded as she added, "But James is too delicate for a place like this, it would crush him within a day. He'd be useless if he snuck in as a new recruit."
Rose eyed Jessie for a minute, then gave a soft "Oh!" and winced.
"What is it?" Jessie asked.
"N-Nothing," her almost-friend stammered. "I'm sorry. I'm just…It's nothing, I shouldn't have assumed…I'm sorry-"
"Spit it out, girl!" Jessie snapped.
With a squeak, Rose jumped and recoiled.
Jessie took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she ground out, mustering her nonexistent patience, "I didn't mean to snap at you. But what are you apologizing for?"
"I'm just…a little embarrassed, that's all," Rose answered in a whimper.
"About what?" Jessie pressed, struggling not to shout again.
"I just…" Rose fidgeted uncomfortably. "I thought you and…and this partner of yours…I mean, I thought you and he were…together. Like, together together. But I shouldn't have assumed that."
Together together. Jessie felt her heart skip a beat, remembering how close she and James had come before Donovan had captured her again. "We are," she said, deciding that it wasn't worth explaining the complexity of the situation. "What makes you think we're not?"
"You are?" Rose blinked. "But…if he dresses as a woman…"
"It's not like he does it all the time," Jessie scoffed. "And even if he did, what would that have to do with anything?"
"It's…a little…weird…" Rose mumbled.
Another deep breath. Another shove at her rising irritation. "James and I are free spirits," Jessie huffed. "We do what makes us happy and we don't care what anyone thinks."
"And being with you…makes him happy?" Rose questioned.
Jessie ground her teeth. How dare this girl ask such a complicated question as though it warranted a simple answer?! She has no idea, she reminded herself firmly, there's no way she could begin to imagine… "It does," she answered, praying it wasn't a lie. If it was, it wasn't for the reason she suspected Rose was thinking, at any rate, she knew that much. Before something else could go wrong, she abruptly turned and made for her bed. "I'm going to sleep," she stated.
"Good night, Jessica," Rose whispered.
"Good night," Jessie sighed, groaning with pain as her sore, bruised body stretched and twisted its way under the sheets.
Being patient and supportive is so exhausting, she thought grumpily. How does James manage to pull it off all the time…?
~R~
After more than two weeks of whispered information and cryptic clues Jessie had no problem understanding, Rookidee brought a message from James that consisted only of a large, star-shaped piece of paper with a question mark drawn on it in a crumbly, powdery material. It was hard to see in the moonlight, but Jessie soon realized that the symbol was drawn in plain, ordinary dirt.
We're going there? she thought, surprised. It made sense, but she hadn't expected James to make use of that information. Even so…she considered it. Donovan's temper had cooled of late, he seemed mostly satisfied with the usual affair of hitting his starlets and watching them bow before him, and a sort of relative peace had come over the academy, inasmuch as it could in a torture prison - Lila had ended up in the Cinder Room a few days earlier for constantly flubbing her lines during theater class, but had only gotten three jabs and one injection before being released almost immediately. To do what James was asking, Jessie would have to stir the pot, and hard…but it just might be worth it if it worked.
"I might be able to get Donovan to admit it out loud, yes," Jessie told Rookidee. "Does James have a means of recording him right now?"
To her surprise, Rookidee shook its head.
"Then why-?!" Gritting her teeth, Jessie suppressed her irritation. "Let me know when he does, then, okay?" she asked.
"Rookidee," the tiny bird Pokémon nodded, and it flew away.
"What is it now?" Rose asked softly when the feathered ball was gone.
Jessie didn't answer right away. If she was going to have to wait, then maybe that could be a good thing - she'd been fairly submissive towards Donovan lately, able to maintain an act of being mostly broken, sustained by the knowledge that she would soon destroy the gorgeous monster. To stir the pot too quickly might make him suspicious, and they couldn't afford that. But if she had days to prepare…
James is working hard to craft this plan, she thought. I should do the same on my end.
With that in mind, she turned to Rose and explained her budding idea. Rose blanched in terror initially, but was willing to discuss it late into the night, and was almost convinced by the time they went to bed. For her part, Jessie was nearly as convinced; deep down, she shuddered at the prospect, every fiber of her being screamed at her to reconsider her plan.
But she would do it. To destroy Donovan Star, there was no amount of suffering she wouldn't take.
"I'm taking back the day that you tried to steal from me. I'm gonna make my voice; you'll never get my choice to breathe…You want the strings, so you can pull at my soul and tear me down. You want it all; I'm not your marionette doll." - Marionette, Flyleaf