Challenged
By AMI
Warning: These ain't my characters, this ain't my idea, these ain't even based to closely on the cartoon anymore. There is nothing official about this story. This is, of course, the sequel to Loyalties: Revealed Strong PG warning, this one has some blood in it. You have been warned. Of course, if you've read the rest of the story, you shouldn't have any problem with this one.
James ran through the pouring rain, shuddering. The entire city was completely dark, save for the occasional bolt of lightning that crashed through the sky with a deafening roar. He rubbed his numbing arms as he ran, it was freezing outside. He desperately wished he had remembered to get his coat back from Jessie before he left, but his boss had been rather insistent that he hurry.
He checked his watch. It had taken longer then he had expected, he'd been gone for nearly two hours. Fortunately, Jessie had most likely spent at least one of those hours getting clean. It still made him nervous, though. He was a bit wary of the idea of leaving her alone in his apartment, especially for that long. He ran faster.
When he finally got there, he ran inside. Leaning against the inside of the glass double doors that led to the lobby, he tried to catch his breath. He held his aching side as he looked around. Everything here, like the rest of the city, was pitch black. "Rats." He wheezed quietly. That meant the elevator wouldn't be working, he would have to take the stairs. Now that he was inside, away from the frigid night air, all of his running caught up with him. His face was red from the intense heat.
Outside, a flash of lightning blasted, so close he could feel the ground shake, and he jumped away from the doors, squealing. He knew that after all that time being shocked by Pikachu on a near-daily basis, a little thunder shouldn't bother him, but it did. Or maybe all those thunder shocks were what had made him so wary of storms.
In either case, the storm was probably scaring Jessie to death, too. She would be looking for something to take her mind off of the noise... most likely in the form of going through his stuff. "That's bad." He said aloud. There were things he didn't want her to see... His mind drifted to another painting of her, one he was too shy to hang. He gulped. "If she ever sees it, I'll be the one to hang." He started up the stairs.
Jessie screamed as one of the thugs grabbed the back of her collar, slamming her face against a mirror. As she pulled away, she gasped at the sharp pain of broken glass tearing at her cheek. She felt a few strands of hair trapped in the cracks yank out as she turned and punched the man in the jaw.
The pain in her cheek forced her to put one hand to feel it. It was soaking wet, but in the darkness, she wasn't sure what it was: rain sweat, or.... She didn't have time to worry about it now.
Her entire body was full of pain, but it was only that and the fear that kept her from loosing her consciousness. She heard something being hurled at her, and quickly leaned back as something flew past her face. She turned to look at it. On the ground lay a painting of her, in full uniform, in a now-broken picture frame. She seemed to remember it looking like one on a wanted poster. "Oh, James..." She leaned over to look at it more closely. "Why can't you make up your mind?" She gently picked it up, accidentally cutting her finger on the broken glass. Did he love her after all?
A crackling noise made her look up, and she jumped back, dropping the picture as the man sliced at her with a hunting knife. She was faster, and he merely succeeded in slicing the shirt. She wasn't sure what was worse, that he had cut such a special shirt, or that her bra was now showing. In either case, she was pissed.
"Dammit!" she cried, throwing herself at the man. "Big mistake." She didn't have time to correct herself. She felt his arm wrap around her waist, trapping her against him as the man's large fist came down on the back of her neck. Immediately, everything went even black around her.
"We're gonna get busted." The man complained, as he felt Jessie's body go limp. "Weren't we supposed to be after a man?" He dropped her. "This..." He motioned to the distinctly feminine form now lying motionless on the ground. "Is definitely not a man." He looked at her a little more closely. "Don't she look pretty familiar?"
"Who cares? This is the place the boss said to hit. We'll just tell her that this girl attacked us when we got here. If she doesn't like that, it's her problem. We've done our job." He picked up Jessie. "Come on, let's go. The little witch put up a lot more of a fight then I thought. The cops could get here any minute."
"But..."
"Come on." He jumped out the window to the fire escape, and started for the waiting van. The second thug hesitated for a moment, then started after him.
James slowly limped down the hallway, leaning on one wall for support. His legs felt like they were going to fall off. The lights suddenly blinked, then flashed on. He could already hear the sound of the elevators resetting themselves. "D'oh!" He should have waited.
He gently pushed the door open. "Jessie? I'm home!" He stepped just inside the door. "Jess? Where are you?" She certainly wasn't on the couch. He looked over to a cabinet. It looked untouched, but he wanted to be sure. He opened the door and peered in. There was the painting, just where he had left it, still wrapped in a dish towel. He unwrapped it and grinned at the girl in the painting. "Guess you're still my little secret, eh?" He said softly.
The painting, a scarlet-haired angel in a flowing robe, just stared back at him, her bright blue eyes filled with a haunting sadness. Originally meant to be a gift for her sister, the painting had quickly became his most precious possession. He had spent countless hours painting and repainting the face he knew so well, never satisfied until it seemed like she was alive, until the painting drew you in, making you gawk at her. It was definitely his best work ever. He would often stare at her, half expecting her to speak to him. Meowth had called him insane. Looking back, he realized Meowth had probably been right. He quickly covered it and put it back.
He became aware that Jessie still hadn't acknowledged his return. The more distant rumble of thunder was still enough to keep her awake. She was probably in his room. "Jess, what am I going to do with you?" He tisked softly. As he walked down the hall, he glanced into the kitchen. "That's funny." She had hardly touched her food. "Thought she said she was hungry." "The storm probably made her too nervous to eat." he tried to comfort himself, feeling his own stomach tighten. Something felt wrong.
"Jessie? Are you awake?" The washer was done, but her clean clothes hadn't been moved to the dryer. "She wanted them done right away." Plus, it would have been something to do. A nameless sense of dread began to spread over him.
"Jessica! Answer me!" he yelled. He went to his door and hesitated. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what happened. But he had to know. He took a deep breath, then threw open the door. He stopped dead in his tracks.
The room was a disaster. Muddy footprints were everywhere, paintings knocked off the wall, chairs smashed. He stepped in and looked around numbly. She was nowhere, but... his eyes rested on the mirror, and he gasped.
It was shattered, with a few small pieces lying on the floor around it. But the part that really disturbed him was the blood. He reached out a shivering hand and touched it. It was still wet, but getting cold and sticky. He noticed that several hairs hung from a crack. They were bright red.
"Jessie!" He gasped. What had happened to her? "Not now... We've been through so much already..." The room began to spin, he felt sick. He sank to his knees, and his blurred eyes focused slightly on the picture that lay on the ground. It, too, had blood on it. He wretched, then fell to the ground. "Jess." He whispered again as the world went dark.
James became aware of the chilling sensation of the rain-soaked blankets seeping into his clothes as he began to come to. As he struggled to wake up, he sensed another person in the room with him. He opened his eyes. His vision was still blurred, but he could make out red hair. "Jessie?!" he asked hopefully. Was it her? She was okay?!
No, there was something wrong. Very wrong. Indeed, the girl standing over him now did look a great deal like Jessie. Another, less familiar person would assume that it was the same girl that had seemingly met her end in this room the night before. But he knew better
His eyes focused on a pair of eyes. They were blue, like Jessie's, and at least as, if not more familiar. These eyes, however, were a great deal less welcome.
"James dear, are y'all okay, darling?" a sweet voice with a soft southern accent asked worriedly.
"Jessibell." He growled. He tried to sit up, but his stomach said otherwise. He leaned over the side of the bed and vomited again, almost hitting her shoes. He was slightly disappointed that he missed.
"Eeeeeeeeeek!" Jessibell squealed daintily, gracefully jumping back to avoid it. "You're not barfin' properly." She complained.
"What do you want?" he asked angrily. Then an awful thought came to him. "It was you last night, wasn't it? Where is she?! What did you do to her?!"
"I was about to ask y'all that last part." Jessibell retorted, equally angry.
"What do you mean?"
"Well I sent my little friends to go 'convince' my James to come home so I could help him become all that he has the potential for. They come back and say all they could find was that little tramp you call your partner. She was in y'alls house, in your room, wearing your clothes!! What's a poor little girl to think of her fiancé." Jessibell was wallowing in self pity.
"It wasn't like that."
"Of course it wasn't." She said sarcastically.
"Look. She borrowed some clothes to sleep in. If she was in my room, I wasn't aware. I wasn't even here." "Like you need to know that." He didn't want to tell her anything, but maybe if he convinced her nothing had happened, then she would calm down and drop a hint about what she'd done with Jessie.
"I know y'all weren't here, James. You don't seriously think that I based my whole plan on her being there, do ya? I was after you."
"Then you were here personally?" That most certainly didn't sound like Jessibell. She could be a little forceful at times, but had never been the kind to attack people, not this viciously.
"No." She admitted, looking a little nervous. "In fact, I didn't know they were going to be that rough. It makes me glad that you weren't there."
"But Jessie still got beaten."
"That's her fault! Jessibell seemed to be in a very upset denial. "I just wanted my James to come home so that I could show him how much I truly cared about him, and finally get him to accept my true feelings for him, so I could...."
James cut her off. "I am not 'your James'. I was never 'your James', and I will never be 'your James'." He told her bluntly. She looked over at him.
"Never?"
"Not in a million years." he said curtly. "I'm nineteen now, and none of you can boss me around like that anymore."
"You really care about her that much?" Jessibell asked, and he nodded. "Well, then." She sounded really nervous again, but this time it had a more smug hint to it. "I guess there's no reason to keep her around."
"What do you mean?!" James was afraid he knew all to well.
"You know, I was just kinda planning to make some kind of deal. You know, I'd be more willing to let her go if I wasn't so worried about the little hussy stealing my fiancé behind my back. So, If you're willing to prove to me that you ain't going to 'mess around' anymore, I'd release her." Jessibell explained.
"This 'proving' wouldn't involve speaking certain vows, would it?" James guessed.
"Smart boy." She answered. He turned away, gulping slightly as he clenched his hands into tight fists, trembling slightly.
"And, if I didn't?" He barely whispered, afraid of the answer. She just looked away. He turned to her. "You wouldn't..." He wasn't so sure anymore.
"I won't make ya decide right now." She said. "Come to your house in a week with the answer. Oh, and dress nice. There's going to be a big event goin' on." She pulled out a small shred of black cloth. "A wedding..." She tossed it on the bed beside him. "...or a funeral." James gingerly picked up the cloth. It was part of the shirt he had lent Jessie, badly torn. A large, bright green ball was stuck to it. He gulped. He'd recognize Jessie's earrings anywhere.
He turned, but Jessibell had already left. He turned back, feeling that deep, queasy feeling return. "Jess..."
Jessie forced one eye open. She was some place very dark, with a heavy stench of dust and mildew. Her head was pounding, her vision blurred in one eye. The other was swollen totally shut. She moved slightly, then gasped as pain shot through her side. Her hand tried to jerk voluntarily down to feel it, but something stopped them. A one-eyed look told her they were duct-taped to something. She grumbled a few muffled obscenities as she tried to assess the damage.
"Black eye, twisted ankle, pounding headache... probably cracked rib" she listed aloud. "And I'm hungry."
"Other than that, how are y'all?" A voice came from behind her. Jessie couldn't see who it was, but she didn't have to. She knew. A light came on, setting off her headache even worse, and she turned away.
"Jessibell." She grumbled, shutting her eye. "What do you want with me?"
"Only to keep ya out of the way." Jessibell commented. "I don't want y'all to get in the way of my big day." Jessie said nothing. "You see, me an' James-dear are getting married. A week from today." She beamed.
"That's wonderful. I'm so happy for you." Jessie whispered.
"Jelous? Didn't he tell you about it?" Jessibell asked, feigning shock. "I guess he wanted two women up until the last minutes of bachelorhood. But, you see..." Jessibell grinned darkly. "You never had a chance. James-dearest never loved you, he was only too afraid to say anything. Now that you're gone, he's happy to marry me."
"That's a lie. He isn't any more afraid of me then he is of you." She said quietly, unconvincingly. "Where am I?"
"In the attic of James-dear's house."
"Not the basement?" She remembered his basement.
"Too obvious. No one knows you're here."
"Not his parents? Weren't they involved?" Jessie asked. Jessibell had pulled this off by herself? She had figured his parents were behind this all.
"No... his parents don't do anything anymore." Jessibell said softly, loosing her confidence for the first time in the conversation. "They both died last week. Their last request was that James-dear get married."
"I've heard that line before." Jessie said angrily. "You don't really think I feel sorry for them, do you? I'm not falling for that again."
"It's true this time. Y'all can believe what ya want." Jessibell said, heading for the door. "James-dear is still mine, you can't stop that." She flipped the light off, leaving Jessie in the darkness.
Jessie turned away. It wasn't true, it couldn't be true. James wouldn't do that, he wasn't like that. But then, why? Why would Jessibell kidnap her, instead of James? Deep inside, she still didn't think he would, but her heart wasn't convinced.
"This is all your fault." She said to herself angrily. She had been betrayed so many times. It was only natural that James would do the same. She should never have trusted him. Still, if he married Jessibell, he would get his inheritance. That was a lot of money. Up until a while ago, she wouldn't have thought twice about leaving James for that much. Even now, it would be a tough decision for her. "Face it, Jess. You just can't compete with her. " She had nothing to offer him. She gulped, trying to hold back her tears. It didn't take her long to realize that she couldn't.
Jessibell leaned against the door, listening to the girl's gentle sobs. How odd. She had always thought that the little witch didn't care about her James. This was rather unexpected, and very unpleasant.
"She just doesn't want to loose the chance at his money." Jessibell tried to convince herself as she headed back to her room. Still, that didn't seem right. Last time they had met, The girl had been all too willing to part with James for a chance at a share of the profit. Had she really changed?
Jessibell sat in front of the huge vanity mirror at her desk. James would come for the girl, she knew that. The disturbing part was the idea that she deserved it. Jessibell looked at her reflection intently. This whole messy disturbance was taking it's toll, her beautiful complexion showed the stress. Her gaze drifted to the gorgeous, snow-white dress hanging by her closet. She stood, walking to the dress, and ran her fingers through the lace.
She had always dreamed of marrying James-dear in this dress. She loved him, didn't she? Sure, he was a little unrefined, but she could change that. Right? She had never questioned her love before. She knew if James married someone else, she would lose access to his fortune. Was that it? "NO!!!" She yelled, covering her ears. "I love my James-dear! I've never loved another man, only him!"
"He doesn't love you. " a nagging voice reminded her. He would learn to. "The only reason he's marrying you is to save her life." It continued. "He won't love you, not as long as she's alive. " As long as she's alive... Jessibell's eyes suddenly brightened. Of course! James-dear was stubborn, but he would never love a dead woman more than her. She reached into her top drawer for a small, ornamental dagger. Jessibell's quiet, maniacal laugh echoed through the room as she stood to deal with the girl.
James stood outside the imposing doors to his house, trying not to gawk. He had almost forgotten how large the estate really was. Standing there, it felt just like old times. The fountain, the huge garden, the uncomfortable clothes. He had never cared for tuxedos, and the black one ( Black seemed most suited for such a sad occasion) he was wearing now was particularly uncomfortable. Most of all, he remembered the impending sense of hopelessness. He nervously knocked on the door.
It burst open. "Welcome home, Master James!" Hopkins, the butler, yelled, grabbing his arm. "Hurry along!" He dragged James into the living room, where the main decoration was two familiar coffins. "Master, Mistress, your son is getting married today!!" The butler screamed into his megaphone.
James sighed and waited for them to jump out and congratulate him. When they didn't, he turned to the butler. "They're awfully quiet today." He observed.
"They're dead, you ninny!" The butler reminded him.
"Dead? Really?!" James stammered, shocked. "You mean... it's not a prank?" The butler nodded, and James turned back. "They're dead?" He walked over to the coffins, attempting to lift the lid. It wouldn't budge.
"What part of dead do you not understand?" Hopkins yelled. "The Master and Mistress both passed on due to sudden illness last week. They've already had their funeral, but the will said that they were not to be moved until their little son was wed!" James went slightly pale. His parents had faked being dead so often, it was hard to believe they actually were. As odd as it seemed, he really would miss them James took another look at the two coffins of his parents, then closed his eyes, dropping to his knees. He said a quiet prayer on their behalf, then sat in a moment of silence.. It was cut short when the butler yanked him to his feet.
"Come along, Master James!" He yelled, dragging him to the back of the house. "You can't be late to your own wedding!" Before James had a chance to protest, he found himself at the end of a hastily-prepared isle in the old tennis room.
"But, I..." James was completely caught off guard as the wedding march played in the background. This was all going so fast, he hardly had time to think. Something told him Jessibell had planned it that way.
"There she is, Master. Isn't she stunning?" The butler whispered into his ear. James turned around to see a pretty red-head in a long, flowing gown heading towards him. She looked almost as nervous as he was as she was led along by a man James could only assume was her father. He seemed to be dragging her.
Between Hopkins and Jessibell's father, they soon found themselves facing each other. Up close, her face seemed haunted and sick. She stumbled for words, and seemed to have forgotten all of her vows. James gulped. What was happening?
"I, James Sassake, take you, Jessibell, as my..." The preacher droned on, and James half heatedly repeated:
"I James Sassake, take you, Jessie..." The butler nudged him, and he coughed. "...bell, as my..." Her eyes widened slightly at his convenient 'mispronunciation', but she said nothing.
At the end, the preacher told him to raise the veil, and he did. She reached out one hand to take his, it was shaking as he leaned forward.
"You may now kiss the bride."
"This is for Jessie... " He reminded himself, then pressed his lips to hers before he could change his mind. She seemed nervous, but pulled him against her, kissing him hard. He pulled away, slightly sickened. He lead her back down the isle, purposely avoiding her eyes.
There were no guests, and only a small cake, so the reception was very short. Jessibell's parents congratulated them, then hinted they would probably like to spend some time alone. James nodded, wanting to talk to Jessibell about their 'agreement'. She just blushed a little.
James shut the door to Jessibell's room tightly, locking it behind him. When he turned to her, she avoided his glance. "Where is she?" He asked.
"Where is who?" She asked quietly.
"Don't give me that, Jessibell. We made a deal. I want to see Jessie." She sat down on the side of the bed.
"I don't remember making any deals." She retorted.
"What? Jessibell, you can't do this!" He yelled. "What have you done with her?!"
She looked away. "Does this 'Jessie' really mean that much to you?" She whispered.
" Of course she does." He was blushing slightly, he wasn't used to talking about her like that. "If I didn't care more about Jessie, do you think I would marry you to keep her safe? I already told you I loved her."
"No you didn't!" She yelled, hitting with a mallet. He fell to the floor, then looked up, shocked. Mallets were far from Jessibell's weapon of choice. She turned away, crying softly. "You never told me any of that." She whispered. "I can't believe I just did that..."
"Jessie?!" He begged. Was it her?
Reviews are 'preciated. Flames aren't. Luv ya, hae a nice day! P.S. What does JAJRN stand for?