Dark Pasts, Hopeful Futures

by Thorned Rose

Consequences of actions must be faced and acknowledged in this extremely dark Rocketshippy sequel to A Diary Of Two Hearts. Six months apart can harden the gentlest of hearts, so how do they cope with the harrowing challenges they face?

16. 4th April, 2001

                                                 Wednesday, April 4th 2001

          Jessie giggled uncontrollably as her lover laid her on the silk sheets, teasing her by gently brushing off her skin as he slid himself over her. Her senses were acute and her libido screamed for her partner to cease the pleasant torture, yet part of her wanted for him to keep it up, as the motions were driving her wild. James teased her further by undoing the buttons adorning the front of her attire with nothing other than his teeth, allowing his hands to add a tender pressure to her waist. He knew exactly what effects his actions had on her, and it was making it all the harder for him to refrain from tearing her clothes off and making passionate love with her then and there. He couldn't do that though; this time was all about her pleasure and not his, so he couldn't be even slightly rough with her in case it took some of the sparkle out of it for her. He kissed her with just enough of a hint of passion to make her crave for more whilst not with too little to make her wonder if he was unenthusiastic about the ordeal. When the clothing was no longer a barrier between the two amorous teenagers, he teased her by allowing his body to rest against hers, to share his body heat with her and to make the notion of him fusing their bodies together affect his now-fiancée's libido. When he could hold back no more, he delivered all the tricks he knew to please her more than once, whilst bearing the stamina to hold back to prevent him from ending her satisfaction prematurely…

      James jolted awake, tears already in his eyes as he tried to rid his memory banks of one of the happiest nights of his life; in fact the only night of their engagement where they still were only familiar with each other's bodies and not their former boss or friend, or even their assassin. He knew he'd never know such a time with Jessie or indeed anyone else again. He'd returned to the hospital too late, and now she was gone. He'd spent the night in a small room in the same building where the calamity had begun two nights ago. He felt sorely tempted to slash his wrists open and put an end to this misery once and for all, but part of him was man enough to do it, but not man enough to destroy whichever chambermaid was destined to discover his cadaver. He couldn't end his life knowing he'd turn hers into a horrific one filled with endless months of counselling.

      Tears rolled freely down his face as he realised he'd had everything that night, the night he'd proposed to Jessie on her eighteenth birthday, and now he had nothing. Had he not slept with Tyra, she wouldn't have left him in the hospital, and the six month void wouldn't have occurred. She wouldn't have risked their child's life repeatedly and they'd have made it through together. But she had and now there was nothing for him. His wife had permanent custody of Alyssandra, a fact that numerous court cases could never alter because of fate's evil twisting of the knife. His relationship with her in total hadn't even lasted a month and a half when put together, never mind his marriage not even lasting half a week. They'd considered the name Sunset City to be one of an ideal place to begin their married life together with no stress, but never again could he bear to see a sunset again in his life; it was like the sun bled across the sky every night, staining the beautiful sky on its descent. Every night he'd remember seeing the blood ebb from his now-deceased wife's body, every night he'd be just as futile when it'd come to preventing the situation from arising. His life may not be finished, but it was certainly over.

      The ditto had acted very cleverly in transforming Butch from Meowth's slave to its own, and it required minimal effort. He'd returned late in the evening before in a foul mood, refused to disclose reasons to explain his distaste and lashed out at the mutinous pair; if he was unable to evoke order in his company, how could he succeed in anything in life? He'd separated Butch for the moment and confronted the rebellious pokémon on why it was behaving like that, and it replied he was no better than Giovanni was with regards his attitude towards it. It may have been given a certain degree of respect, but there was a giant portion of freedom not in the deal. The cat-type was pestered and provoked repeatedly until it scratched out at it, and the plan had been completed. It transformed back into Cassidy and cried out in a pained voice, heralding Butch's rapid exit into the room. Even though it could repair its wounds in an instant, the pokémon decided against it and allowed the three claw marks across its nose to do all the work. Butch was now completely loyal to only one 'person', and that was no longer Meowth. Being intelligent and cruel simultaneously seemed to open up advantages that made the ditto understand why Meowth had been so good at it until his heart was finally resuscitated a few nights back. With him returning to his former self at a gradual pace, the other pokémon knew that if anything was to take place, it was up to it and it alone. Which is why it had made a phone call that changed everything, but it was the only one to know about it. It would be amusing to see whose fate would bear the greatest adjustment with this major disruption in the finely detailed plan.

      Lindsey sat back in Giovanni's leather chair in his newly refurbished office, feeling she could easily adapt to possessing that position permanently. Then again, if she did that, she would be unable to leave the heels of her boots pressing into the lacquered desktop as she was doing at present, swinging the chair back slightly for optimum comfort with her ankles crossed. Not that she'd wanted to engage in activities of a carnal nature with her employer, he'd been unable to perform after screwing his former worker, judging by his pensive moods. He'd said very little and had spent the night without her.

      If she wasn't aware of his unexplainable phobia of herself, she may have worried for the security of her job or life, but seeing as she was, this was more fun for her than anything else. She didn't care for a second what state his mind could be in, and part of her really wished maliciously there was irreparable damage to it as payment for all the suffering he'd inflicted on her and other women alike. A quick glance to her wrist reminded her of a few short days ago when she'd been in love with Anthony, as opposed to a woman using her body to gain a better position in her work, and how Giovanni had stuck a broken bottle of whiskey into her body with deliberate force to ease his own frustration.

      Giovanni's beloved Persian watched her ominously from above its paws, an evil glint in its half-open eyes as if he knew the woman unintentionally caused a portion of its master's displeasure. The hackles on its neck were partially vertical, its inner voice telling it not to let the human know its feelings, as if it was an advantage for it to brood unhealthily like it was so doing. It would be so easy to take the human out; being Giovanni's personal pet, he had skills and attacks no other Persian in the world could possibly possess, from the scientific research run on it from it being a kitten. He could kill her now…but would that really help his master achieve inner peace again? There had been a definite change in his mood in the last month, resulting in little attention being devoted towards the cat-type. It was far from jealous; it was more a concern. The man was getting on, but wasn't it later in a human's life that their memory and actions altered as considerably as his had already? Perhaps it was the years of growing up and taking over a corporation dedicated to evil after assisting his own mother meet an unfortunate but not fatal 'accident' (she was in a coma, as she had been for almost two decades) that addled his brain. It closed its eyes, feeling that philosophy was not a subject worthy of disrupting the portion dedicated it to sleep in its daily regime.

      Giovanni stared at the heavily designed ceiling above his bed, feeling weak for the first time in his life. Jessie could be dead from what he'd done to her, and this was the only case where he felt guilt at the prospect of ending someone's life prematurely. He hadn't slept a wink all night, and it had nothing to do with the fact he hadn't wasted his energy with pleasurable female company. The ticking of a clock in the corner of his room was synchronised with the panicking thoughts swarming round his head, and every ten minutes heralded a drop of sweat rolling down the side of his face. He'd failed to remove her blood from his member, feeling as though this could be the only thing of hers he'd have to cherish her memory. She had still failed to be as good in bed as he'd imagined, and part of him wanted to know more than anything what it felt like to have requited love instead of the constant fear-filled looks his women gave him. If only she'd love him, or hate him less, whichever was more likely…maybe she'd improve, as she wouldn't be as tight with nerves as opposed to if she was relaxed and eagerly awaiting penetration. What did that disgrace have that made her marry him and father her children? Well, he only assumed children because he didn't know how far gone she'd been, and her bump had looked fairly large…then a chilling thought struck him. Was it his baby, from the time he'd raped her seven months ago? If she had been carrying one kid, the size would have been just about right. Then a more chilling thought struck him. If that was the case, did he destroy the memory of the only child he'd successfully sired by having sex with her the day after the miscarriage? The sweat drops appeared at more frequent intervals now. Just like the pangs of terror and guilt from his conscience did.

      Anthony sat on his bed cross-legged, unable to move them from that position as he'd been in that position all night, and just like his former employer he'd spent all the night with his eyes open and his mind churning at several different possibilities. Four large bottles of highly potent spirits lay on their sides on the blanket, their lids nowhere in sight. There was nothing to worry about this however, as he'd drained each of them of every drop they possessed. He'd have drunk more if there'd been any readily available, but he rarely drank spirits at all when he was at home unless he was entertaining guests and had nothing else in the house with any percentage of alcohol in it. Perhaps the orange juice in the refrigerator did; it had been untouched since Christmas as it had an odd scent about it, but not odd enough a taste for it to be thrown away.

      Part of him truly regretted leaving Team Rocket, not because he loved his job as a security guard, but because now he wondered constantly what Lindsey was doing, and where she was to the extent of psychotic paranoia on his part. He should have murdered Giovanni on his way out, especially now as he thought about it; aside from being the only man in his desire's life, it would mean that Giovanni wouldn't have been given the chance to inform special agents to hunt him out and to silence him in his own apartment. He wished he knew when the order would catch up with him, so he could prepare his death properly and he'd leave with some knowledge of the end as opposed to a quick assassination in the night. It was part of the reason for him pulling off the all-nighter; he honestly believed he'd never be so fortunate as to see another morning sunrise. Of course, he may have wasted that dream as well as he'd drunk himself into a stupor before opening the curtains to view the said occurrence and missed the event altogether. He'd missed the dawn chorus, not because he'd had a radio or television on, but because he'd sung raucously to himself to eliminate the ringing in his head, incidentally caused by an earlier version of his singing. He wanted to move but feared what state his legs would be in, as they'd turned sore then numb several hours earlier. He also feared what the wet patch residing in the crotch of his guard's uniform would transpire to be. He jumped and his knees suffered greatly from the jolt when the phone rang. Who could it be? His legs were too dead to move and he flailed comically on the bed as he tried to move, yet was still firmly immobile. The ringing ceased, but then fortunately for the frustrated male the answering machine began to play, requesting the caller leave a message.

      "Hey, this is Anthony. I'm either having fun or at work, leave a message and I'll call you back. Leave your number if you're female and I'll reply even quicker…"

      He waited with baited breath as the high-pitched beep rang shrilly from the answering machine, and he wondered who it could be, his curiosity increasing tenfold by each passing second. Then his heart stopped; he knew that voice. He knew it very well indeed, having fallen in love with it long ago.

      "Oh my gods you loser, what sort of a recording is that? Who'd want to have fun in any sense with you? This is just to remind you you're late. Show up and your ass is going to get kicked. Fail to show up and I'll hunt you out and do it myself, I've been there in the past, unfortunately; believe me when I say this is no idle threat. You had no right or authority to hit Giovanni over the head with the gun, and you've really crossed the line too far with this. Until you did that I cared about saving your feelings from being hurt…now I want you to rot away in what ever furnace after-life you're about to join. Love you Ant, about as much as I love scraping road kill from my wheels with my tongue"

      Anthony threw an empty bottle in the general direction of the telephone, sending it into smithereens as it collided with a piece of antiquated and very expensive furniture of his landlord's possession. Tears laced his eyes thickly as he realised the cruel mutterings from the woman whose faithfulness he yearned. She and her love rattata would pay dearly for that. If only he could stand up and exact his revenge…

      As is the case with most departures, James remembered only the times where he'd screwed up her life. It was becoming almost unbearable as he twirled his wedding ring around his finger, remembering how he'd ruined their wedding day, and subsequently their honeymoon. How he'd destroyed their relationship before it had properly begun through infidelity. How he'd molested her when she nearly prostituted her body to save his life. How he'd betrayed her again by sleeping with Tyra days after learning he was about to become a father. How he ruined the last few days of her life by desecrating their daughter's memory by hiding information from her. How he'd had a shudder running along his back as he'd left her yesterday when he heard her screaming she wanted her baby back from down the corridor where he stood, and not returned to comfort her, even though there was nothing he could do or say to make it happen, and to talk to her would have been defying her exact orders. He needed to hold her again, to tell her how sorry he was, to beg for her forgiveness…

      Impossible; how can he tell a dead person how he felt, especially when he wasn't allowed near her body while scientists were running post-mortem tests on her? And since he was almost certain she believed in an afterlife, would there be any point? It would be like talking to a dead skin that an arbok had shed and expecting it to understand and listen to him. Her spirit had never been restrained in life, so to expect her to hold back instead of moving on to whatever lay before her was nothing more than a childish dream. He really hated himself for being so considerate of other people's feelings; if it weren't for the hotel staff, he'd slice his wrists to pieces with the razorblade he toyed with in his hand. He also wished he'd learnt if his wife believed in life after death, because he seemed to recall someone once told him that suicides never went to the same place as someone who died naturally, murder or anything where their death was not their own choice. If he killed himself now, would that condemn him to an eternity where he'd be guaranteed never to see her again? He squeezed his fists in frustration and cursed as the metal stuck into his skin, his fingers bled, but not as much as his heart did as it died from heartache.

      Sunset City Hospital, 09:57 hrs…

      "I'm serious, I can't find her anywhere. Have you moved her?"
      "No, I went to check on her after the transfusion but she was nowhere in sight. I've asked security to follow her on the footage from the cameras, but you know how long that'll take before they get back to me. How could she bear the strength to even move when she was so close to not being alive?"

      "Beats me, which makes me think she's hiding somewhere, probably thinking about her kid. I couldn't admit we were unable to locate her but I just told him we'd lost her to make him assume she'd died. I told him we'd need her body to analyse for a couple of days, I figured it would buy us more time until he gets lawyers breathing down our necks. I just hope he doesn't do anything stupid, he seems the type that wouldn't but with this on his hands? Two losses in as many days, it can't be easy"

      "Especially when one of those wasn't true, how could you be so thoughtless?"

      "I just thought about my own back first, then the hospital's, then decided this lie would save both of them. The couple were out-of-towners anyway, judging from their accents, so I doubt he'd stick around too long"

      "This is all blood on your hands Lou, not mine or any of the other doctors'. You're a sick head-case to come up with something that twisted to tell a grieving father. You really nauseate me"

      Viridian City, 11:47 hrs…

      The rain poured heavily down like the heavens were bursting, with a bitter wind that was sharp enough to sting any foolish person wandering the streets in conditions like this but not strong enough to blow the bothersome clouds away. It was typical gloomy, ice-cold precipitation, as was to be expected for early April weather, but this day seemed harsher and crueller than any other day for one person in particular. Of course, they believed this for a lot more reasons than just having to endure lousy weather. Someone had gone to great lengths to ensure their nightmare was real, and it was on a continuous loop to last for quite some time.

      Jessie had no idea how she'd arrived there when she came to, part of her paralytic with fear when she first thought the last few days had been nothing but a dream, that she'd never reunited herself with James or lost her baby. She lost those thoughts when she struggled to stand up; the unbearable pain in her abdomen sliced her open and she fell back down, hitting her head off the brick wall behind her. Pain struck up across her chest, which shocked her since there was nothing in her memory banks where she could recall a reason for it. It felt like a smarting nip in the general area of her torso, but she was much too weak from the attempt to get up to investigate the source for her discontent. She'd kept her eyes closed against the merciless pellets of water, but keeping her head back in this position made her feel breathless as she gasped for air so she sat up properly, ignoring the deep puddle she was in even though it was halfway over her knees when they were flat against the surface. Her breathing stopped as a cold panic hit her, far worse than the weather did to her. It was far worse than anything of the last week that had confronted her as she finally made a terrible realisation.

      She was sitting against a wall; not just any wall but the brick one where she spent most of her pregnancy watching certain people use her body to keep them partially satisfied until she could find a way to fix whatever dilemma she'd stuck herself in at the time. She was wearing the same long overcoat that she'd worn the night she'd made eye-contact with James in the pub—was that really only fifteen days ago?—but this time there was no swell for her to hide, other than the elasticised skin that had sheltered her unborn which would remain with her for at least another six months. There was nobody in the entrance to the very alley James had slept rough in other than herself, making her feel even more suspicious. If someone had gone to all this trouble to get her away from Sunset City, near enough on the opposite side of the country, why had they abandoned her as soon as they'd put her in her old clothes? Surely they wanted their handiwork known? But then again, she had no idea what day of the week it was; she could have been out cold for a few days, especially after the heavy surgery she underwent to repair the damage for which Giovanni was responsible.

      She decided to check her pockets to see if there was any sort of clue to who moved her whilst she allowed the ringing to subside in her head. There was absolutely nothing in them, except in one of them there was a sticky substance that felt and smelt a lot like drying semen to her. It most certainly had not been there the last time she'd worn it. It was when she wiped her hand on the lapel that her torso reminded her it was injured and protested in the form of smarting even more. She undid the coat halfway without so much as glancing down, then when she felt courageous enough she looked at it, realising only now that she wasn't wearing anything else, not even footwear never mind her hospital gown. Emblazoned across her breasts was the message 'Beauty never lasts, it dies like you will soon', and from the varying thickness of the mainly dry blood it seemed to have been etched in with a knife of some description. Someone obviously wanted her to see this otherwise they would have killed her first. They could be on their way to do it right now…

      She ran. She'd never sprinted so fast even though she could barely breathe, her head was ringing, her vision was blackening, her stomach was about to split open again and her feet were numb with the icy water. She ignored glass and other objects she stood on, and proceeded to splash her way through the inch of water with the wind savagely attacking her wounds and her wet skin as she raced into it rather than with it. She would have been faster running through the forest but there were more risks of her being seen by her captors there. It was only when she exited the last of the worst areas of the city that she thought about where she would head to. She couldn't pause to think in case someone was already aware of her absence, but she allowed herself a hollow smile when she recognised the building opposite her; The Silver Bullet, the pub where James had worked as a barman. Her heart sank when she read the notice on the window.

      The management expresses deepest regret at the premises being closed this coming Wednesday, the fourth of April until six pm, as a mark of respect for the recent and sudden death of the landlady's father.

      She fearfully glanced over her shoulder to see if anybody was approaching her, and minor relief came to her when she saw she was alone, except for the traffic. Plus there was the fact that she hadn't been out cold for more than a day at most. The relief vanished and her heart stopped when she considered the possibility that they may not be tracking her on foot. Even if they were, she needed as much a gap between them as she could create, as her numb feet were bleeding into the water, making an easy route for her pursuers to follow. With no money, there wasn't anywhere for her to really go; who would feed or clothe her when she only had promises of payment at a future date? She couldn't even whore her body because of the tender state she was in, and how she was unwilling to engage herself in sexual activity with anyone other than her husband. It was with this thought she remembered James was not with her and that if they'd taken her from the hospital with him around they could easily have kidnapped or killed him to prevent interruptions in their plans, whoever 'they' were. She couldn't go to the police or a pokémon centre in case the civil servants recognised her as the one who trashed it a couple of years back, which left only one place that would certainly offer sanctuary, even though it was against all her principles to do so. The building she had in mind was Team Rocket Headquarters.

      Meowth returned to the scene of his former friends' child's grave with a large peony, feeling like the bright flower could help lighten the dark atmosphere surrounding it. If anything, the contrast was too great and made it even worse for the pitiful creature. The weather was better than that in the distant city the mother was in, but it still whittled through his skin easily, as his fur had still a lot of growing back to do from when he was in Team Rocket. A couple of days ago, his ex-partners had their whole lives in front of them but now they had exactly what he did; absolutely nothing. Well, at least they'd have each other, whereas he had mutinous comrades who played him for what he was worth. He needed to pull the plug on the ditto's plans before it was too powerful with the naïve teenager, but then he'd have Butch to deal with when he discovered he'd been deceived all along.

      Suddenly his ears prickled as he detected Jessie's name being mentioned in a conversation, and although at first he took it to be someone else as it was a fairly common name, he become conscious of the fact it must be the same one from the context. It was the two doctors from the hospital discussing the case again as they wandered around the city on their breaks to see if they could locate her. They could only buy so much time for themselves before their superiors were informed of the ordeal after all. Meowth dropped the flower and ran for all he was worth; from what he'd learnt, it sounded like James was told his wife died, and if that was the case he'd be unstable and could do anything. Whether James saw him as an enemy or not, the cat-type needed to tell him the truth before he did something stupid, unless of course he was already too late. One question rang in his ears though; why had James run off so quickly yesterday when he was talking to him, and where and why would Jessie have gone, especially when she would be in far too delicate a state to move?

      Tyra reached a slight breakthrough in her condition as the midday sun streamed through the window and hit off her eyes. She hadn't moved once since the paralysing poison first became active in her body, but now she suddenly felt spasms coursing through her body from her abdomen down. It hit her harder, more frequently and more viciously than the spear-like effect one receives when plunged into water barely above freezing point. It was terrifying for her, but the only thing that got her through it was her knowledge it was solid proof she'd lived through three days of hell, partially feeling the hunger, really feeling the dehydration. Her saliva had transformed into glue in her mouth, making her discomfort even more difficult to endure. Sweat appeared all over her body, drowning her pores as she ran the worst part of the fever, then as soon as it started, it stopped. She cried out in exhaustion, unable to face another second of the torture and felt incredibly weakened, light-headed from her body losing a heinous amount of what little moisture it possessed.

      She looked out of the window, ecstatic at being able to move again. The bustling main street of Mallow City acted as the panorama for her tired eyes. She'd forced herself to stay awake over the past seventy two hours in case she never woke again, and instead of feeling tired, she'd never felt so regenerated before in her life. She didn't know where Jessie and James were to deliver her warning, but she found she couldn't care less what happened to them. She'd lost a lot because of his family, and he only stayed with her for one night willingly because she forgot to point out that she'd had a miscarriage with a baby that probably wasn't even his. They were welcome to whatever destiny lay before them and she was not willing to be the scapegoat for whatever failures or disasters they faced. For the first time since she'd left her unloving non-biological parents to join the bicycle gang, she was able to start a new life for herself where she wasn't going to put anything from the past ahead of her. Nobody in this city knew who she was; this would be her new home. She could be a person she didn't think she was capable of becoming after the past twelve months, all the more reason for her to celebrate this rebirth. This surging mirth rushed through her system, then she felt light-headed again and crumpled in a heap on the floor. She'd died without a worry in the world, away from the misery her life was throwing on her; in spite of her vows, her lover's mother would never know what revenge Tyra had stored away for her. The poison used had circulated in her blood stream too much and with most fatal illnesses, it looked like she was cured when it hit with maximum savagery.

      Jessie staggered more than walked into the formidable building that sheltered highly dangerous criminals. Her body screamed for her to turn around and walk back on the cold streets, and wait outside the pub until six o' clock, but she knew it wasn't worth risking her life with whoever did this to her out on the hunt for her. She recognised the secretary from all the times she'd worked there, but chose to ignore reception and raced towards Giovanni's office. Human speech is incapable of describing the absolute dejection she felt, returning to the man who nearly killed her and certainly wanted her husband killed. She bitterly thought about her mother, and how her death was treated as such common knowledge that nobody had told her the version of what happened to her that differed from the one she'd told when she was seven years of age. He'd raped her on a couple of occasions, yet here she was, looking for her shelter from a complete monster. The workers seemed unaware that she was over halfway down the corridor to his office, but the door swung open as she neared it. She suppressed a shudder as she heard that voice, telling his secretary not to allow any further communication with the office until he requested it. She'd informed him immediately of his impending visitor from the moment she'd seen her in the street and had opened and closed the door on his behalf, seething with jealousy. She was never going to be Giovanni's top choice, especially when his desire strode so willingly into his lair in spite of all that had happened to her.

      The door closed as she tentatively stepped forward, seeing only the top of his head as the chair faced the window. Raindrops slid down her coat and smacked off the expensive flooring, the noise of it resounding heavily in an eerie echo around the room, making the only disruptions in what was a breaking silence. It was only when the padded leather chair swivelled around she discovered the marks the explosion had left on his face; she'd seen hardly anything of him the day before except for his eyes as he raped her, as a good portion of her time was devoted to squeezing her eyelids in terror as he attacked the insides of her without a show of mercy. His eyes were widened as though he was dulled from lack of sleep, whilst he personally thought a ghost stood before him. She was deathly pale, almost a lucid white, yet her face had matured and worn a lot, so the resemblance between her and her deceased mother was striking. The hatred her eyes sent towards him was incredible, it was almost enough to set the space where he sat alight. She took a couple of menacing steps towards him, swallowing her fear and pride, but not that incendiary hate; it was all that was keeping her going.

      "You raped me. Did you know someone forced this baby out of me, and I nearly died from what side-effects occurred from your little shag?"

      "Why are you here? Surely not to state the obvious"

      "No, to make you learn what you did to me. Every grisly little detail, to make you truly comprehend what you've done"

      "I never knew you were so naïve to expect me to care about my actions Jessica, otherwise I'd have quite this business a long time ago"

      "You've always wanted me though. I'm a challenge. I'm different because you want me more than you have anyone else. You regret hurting me; I see it in your face, along with your desire for you to take me right now"

      "That's partially true. Why are you really here? Telling me could easily wait until you'd recovered from your blood loss, did your pathetic husband make you risk your life to come all this way? It doesn't ring true with the awful creature I used to hire"

      "He didn't send me, nor does he know where I am right now. Someone took me here, so I want to hide out here until he can rejoin me. I have no money so I can't stay anywhere else; make no mistake in knowing this was my final option"

      "How do you expect to pay me without money? I don't work for free or give anything away Jessie"

      "Neither do I, but you paid me very little when I was in your staff. And I can pay you in one way"

      She opened her coat and exposed her body to him, then carried on walking with her numb feet half-slipping on the floor until she was right in front of him and undid the zip on his trousers. She fought against the tears, screams and shudders she wanted so badly to release as he pulled her wet coat down her arms to slap against the flooring, and then he pushed her into the direction of his quarters to accept maximum payment of her currency. All through her torturous experience she silently prayed for forgiveness from her husband all those miles away.

      James was distracted from his suicidal notions when he felt a shudder ripping through him; the depression was replaced with a certain degree of hope and happiness, as he'd only felt those when Jessie was alive, even though it would mean she was in great pain or distress somewhere. The main factor here was that she was somewhere and not dead as he'd been wrongly informed by the doctors, possibly in good enough health because the shudder had been quite slight, even though it was only like that because of the distance involved. Almost at that second, Meowth entered via the window, with his claws sheathed in case his ex-partner thought he was staging an attack. Both only said two words to the other, but both had smiles on their faces when they verified her existence.

      "She's alive"
      "I know"

      James put aside the fact he wanted to tear the cat-type limb from limb for the destruction of his child for a minute, listening intently to the story of how a man had supposedly entered her room and raped her to the point where her stitches burst, as opposed to her simply haemorrhaging as he'd been notified by the doctors. When he was told there wasn't a trace of her anywhere, the grieving father worried greatly as he knew no matter how unsafe she felt, she would have certainly contacted him herself by this stage if she'd been able to. He also wondered how she'd have had the physical ability to move unnoticed, especially after all the blood she'd lost over the week. Transfusions replaced a large portion of it, but it didn't replenish the strength she'd lose along with it. As if by magic the telephone suddenly rang and his heart skipped a beat, and he answered it once the shock died down. It was a receptionist from downstairs, wanting to know if he was willing to answer an out of town call, to which he immediately replied yes.

      Jessie had lay in the luxurious bed shivering, bleeding and crying from what she'd subjected herself to. She'd feigned sleep after sex, knowing Giovanni would eventually tire of her and return to business in his office. It was only after he'd left that she'd broken down, not allowing him the satisfaction of seeing her in such a weak condition. She felt even lower than she'd have imagined because it wasn't her vagina he'd taken her in, and it wasn't that bleeding. After all the times she'd chastised James for his actions of betrayal, she'd deliberately willingly but not with want set out to carry out an infidelity with someone they both hated. Was the life she'd saved with this mistake really worth her while living? She waited for the majority of her hysterics to die down before she picked up the bedside phone and dialled directory inquiry to get the number of where she'd stayed with James the night of the horror, hoping he'd be around to clean out their room if nothing else. It was a long shot, but she felt like it was a risk worth taking, especially since she'd paid Giovanni handsomely minutes ago for the phone call. She wanted to retch to remove a certain taste in her mouth too, as it contained more than just her aggressor's saliva. She was overjoyed to know he was still there and that she wasn't on a camera phone in case he was, as she didn't want to display her situation in case he refused to help her with knowing the truth. It seemed to be an eternity to her until the receptionist transferred the call through, as the last thing she wanted was Giovanni returning and letting James hear his voice before she'd explained as best she could her reasons for her betrayal, if she even told him at all.

      "James?"

      "Jessie, are you all right? Where are you?"

      "I'm not all right, I have no idea how I got here or who took me"

      "Where is it you mean when you say 'here'? And why did she tell me that this is an out-of-town call?"

      "I'm in Viridian with no money or clothes, just a soaking overcoat. I'm scared and have nowhere to go James"

      "Go to the pub I worked in Jess, she'll house you easily. I'm going to get the first bus out of here, but even so I might not be able to get to you until tomorrow at some time, there's a huge distance between the cities. Have you no idea how you got there, and so quickly?"

      "No, nobody was around when I came to so I ran and ran to get away from there. The Silver Bullet's closed until this evening, Elora's father died or something. There was a note on the door, but to be honest I wasn't really paying much attention to it once I saw it was shut"

      "Jessie?"

      "Yes?"

      "If you've no money, how are you able to make this expensive call? Not even the pokémon centres give people money make calls, no matter how desperate, plus I can't hear any pokémon in the background. Where are you?"
      She was hesitant in delivering her reply, as she couldn't lie, and she couldn't tell him the full truth. He'd never come for her if she told him—she wouldn't if the roles were reversed, she'd curse him and hope the worst happened to him. He repeated his question of her location and she found holding back more wretched sobs was too much of a strain for her weakened state to cope with for the moment.

      "Viridian Gym"

      Silence deafeningly dripped for a few moments around Jessie's heart-breaking sobs, and he asked her in a dangerously quiet voice whether she was hiding out in the gym or the headquarters, and she could almost feel his anger hitting her when she replied honestly with the latter. He hissed his next few sentences, reverberating anger embodying his words with a sinister twist.

      "They don't let you make free calls either Jessie, how the hell are you paying for this?"

      "It's not a coin phone"

      "Jessie I've been in there, every phone available to the workers are payphones, to make sure he can get enough of his money back from them before they leave with as little money as…hang on, it's too quiet for you to be in the waiting room. Where the hell are you?"

      "I didn't pay for this with money"

      "You stupid bitch, do you think its some sort of sick fun to ring me when you're in bed with a rapist, YOUR rapist might I add? To think I missed you like hell"

      He hung up and the engaged tone resounded painfully in her ears as she wailed at how he'd treated her, even though he was fully justified to do so. She hung up and hit redial, four times, each time the receptionist told her he refused her call and the connection was not made. James seethed with disbelieving rage; unable to comprehend why Jessie would act like that without expecting so much as an outburst from him. How dense and insensitive was she? He failed to notice Meowth's absence; the feline had high-tailed it when he'd learnt of Jessie's mysterious abduction and knew instantly his pokémon comrade had something to do with it, as he hadn't given du Paor any updates on her condition in a while. He'd only caught the beginning of him learning of her infidelity and decided his business needed his attention more urgently than being caught in the middle of a domestic. It was just as well he wasn't around for the human's raw rage, feeling utterly mocked as his wife of four days rang him from another man's bed. He didn't cry or show any other forms of appearing weak; he was beyond it. She'd comforted him when he learnt his ex-fiancée died, only to repay him with this. He suddenly discovered he wished he'd married Jessie Belle as although they hadn't been one hundred per cent compatible, he knew she'd never cheat as it wasn't 'proper'. Violet may have been less trustworthy, but now he was wondering why he hadn't married her when he had the chance, as he'd been with her for a couple of years and they were as close as they could get that didn't involve sex. Why had he chosen a conniving whore over them?

      Viridian City, 22:08 hrs…

      Meowth sat quietly at the rendezvoused spot, waiting nervously for his 'partner' to show up; his uneasiness began as he recalled that the last time he'd met a certain Henry du Paor when he'd been hell-bent on wreaking revenge. With his steadily returning sense of compassion and an over-active conscience, he decided telling his comrade that he'd changed his mind and to call off the thing may not be the wisest career choice he could make. He'd made a friend with enough contacts and resources to assist him in remaining unseen whilst tracing the then-betrothed couple and providing him with the illegal substances he'd used on them. He was deathly afraid of his escape from this hellish way of life and it was this fear that made him closer to his friends than he could possibly imagine—they'd both been there, and to a certain degree they still were.

      The tediously long journey had been an almost torturous experience for him, as the friction between himself and the ditto was almost unbearable. Cassidy had taken it upon herself to become liberal with the amount of scratches he'd given her, and she now possessed a viciously deep one along her neck. It was already evident Butch no longer swore allegiance to him; he'd shot the pokémon as many filthy looks as he could administer without placing his own jugular in great risk simultaneously. Meowth let them all slide by without comment, understanding the boy knew nothing about his heart if he couldn't see past a very cleverly disguised pokémon. He also wondered at what could have possibly possessed Jessie when she slept with Giovanni; he'd been unforgivably evil to her in the past, especially yesterday, so why the change of heart? The Jessie he'd known had been cruel to some, but she would never have voiced her betrayal so lucidly to James, not in a million years. The more he mused over the situation, the more he thought she was alone in the room at the time from the way she spoke, and how Giovanni wasn't making victorious remarks to the husband. Why had she done it if she wasn't forced into it? Then he realised if du Paor and his forces were on the hunt for her, it was a very small price to pay compared to if she were captured by them. His thoughts were interrupted as the appointment began with du Paor stepping into the clearing.

      "Why didn't you tell me the slut was sitting in hospital like a wrapped present? I would have been up sooner if I'd have known"

      "I thought I'd let an old friend play with her first, and as it is James is on his way back to the city right now. It opens up certain possibilities, right?"

      Du Paor smiled a sickening smile, not so because of it being overly sweet, but instead the total opposite. He planned revenge and knew how to carry it out. It applied to them both, and it would teach them a lesson they'd never be capable of forgetting for the remainder of their lives.

      Jessie made no attempt to hide the tears and tantrums welling inside her soul when she was forced into sexual activity again and again that night, the pain almost more unbearable in her other orifice than where her recovering skin lay. She hated herself for putting her life before her marriage, as this way she'd live and hate herself for longer rather than du Paor catching her and torturing her; at least she'd die and be unable to think about her martyred actions then. Nothing about this marked her as a martyr; it did nobody any good except for Giovanni who was in it to gain his own satisfaction, and unfortunately for her, he kept withdrawing before ejaculation as it didn't wear him out. He'd restart the process when the feeling of being on the brink disappeared, then did it again to make her miserable. She was his, and this was infinitely better than when he was with Lindsey as he bore no fear for her, it was all about just his superior strength and dominance this time, and they both knew it as they engaged in it. Jessie didn't know if her husband would come, and part of her didn't want him to, in case when he did they were like they were now. It would kill her to betray him even more, and doing it in front of his hate-filled eyes would simply be too much for her to cope with. She lost her baby, Meowth as a friend, her pokémon and now it looked like she'd lose her husband along with them. She hoped he wouldn't kill her pets, as by losing her pokémon, she referred to leaving them in the room where she'd miscarried. If he never went back there they'd be dead or someone else would train them. What had she done? By this stage, however, the question she should have ideally posed upon herself should have been what had she not done.

      James knocked yet another short back, unable to count what number he was on, or the price of the money he owed for the alcohol either. His cigarettes were long gone too. It didn't matter anymore; he could run up a tab as high as he liked and still be able to afford it, as his bank account contained almost enough for the house he was supposedly buying to move in with his wife. That was a joke in itself, his marriage hadn't even lasted a week—how could he pay off a mortgage where he'd be living on his own? He'd wanted more than anything for Matt to have been working that night, so he could vent his spleen with someone other than his head to fume at, and he desired a punch-up to practice for the one he was going to have with Giovanni for reverting his wife back into an unpaid whore when she'd been clean from that business for a fortnight, as far as he knew.

      As a force of habit he tidied up the pub with Elora and the barmaid that had replaced him, a pretty young girl who looked far from troubled with life. He didn't know her name and did not want to learn it, how dare she be so happy when his life was so dismal? She was bad at her trade anyway, as she dropped the small fistful of bottles in her hand; any person with an idea of what they were doing would have put the bottles necks between their knuckles to carry a lot more at once than the idiotic way she'd been doing it. It was only because he was still fairly sober in spite of the vast amount of alcohol he'd consumed that held him back from taking his frustration out on her, but Elora seemed as tired as he was and told the girl to leave. Kiera left, feeling slightly ashamed by her poor quality of work but still kept her chirpy disposition as she hadn't been told not to come in for her next shift. He bent down to pick up the glass but Elora pushed him lightly out of the way as she had a dustpan and brush in her hands. He became enthralled with the way her black shirt was giving him a spectacular view of her cleavage, and the way her usually not-quite-knee-length skirt had ridden up her legs and barely concealed anything from him. She noticed he wasn't moving anymore and looked up, the only incentive to make him return to assisting her clear away the empty bottles being that to avoid awkward questioning. She'd seen the hungry look in his eyes and smiled broadly to herself when she knew she stood a chance of making her dreams come true, even if it turned out to be yet another one-night stand with a member of her staff.

      When they'd finished clearing and cleaning the bar and lounge, they sat together in a booth, deliberately not selecting the one where they'd previously shared a kiss in the stripathon before as it would involve Jessie in a way. She didn't sit right next to him in case his look had been a fleeting glance of interest and nothing more, as desperate was the last thing she wanted to appear. He was still drinking spirits and they failed to affect him even though he was drinking a large amount of them neat and mixed without consideration. If anything, the alcohol was starting to sober him up, which was typical as it was the one night where he wanted to become blindingly drunk. She was afraid of him finding out how heated he was making her body as they chatted together like they'd often done after work. His voice was still gravely compared to what it should be, but it was better than when he'd last seen her. Maybe it was reverse treatment, as it may have improved after all the shouting he'd done at Jessie to wake her up the night she lost their baby.

      "How did this morning go, was it very difficult for you?"

      "I didn't attend the funeral, it took place in the far side of Johto and I couldn't be bothered to make the effort. I never liked the man, he…he introduced me to sexual activity when I was far too young. Part of the reason for me picking here as opposed to nearer home is to escape the old pervert. Nobody believed me when I told them, so I needed a clean break"

      "I don't blame you, though if you'd told me this a few months back I would certainly have taken it upon myself to seek him out and make you pay, I'm really sorry to hear that happened to you Elora. How did you deal with it, if you don't mind me asking?"

      "I went to a shrink for four years, during and after the abuse, and nobody knew about it. I paid for it all myself from the money I earned in my job, but I felt it was money well spent. I needed to talk to someone that wouldn't hit me or call me a tramp for sprouting lies like my family did. It kept me sane and it's how I'm alive and a completely different person. Had I been any weaker I would probably have killed myself to end the constant shame, but I was determined to deny him that victory and held my head high through it. I lasted and as we learnt today, he didn't"

      "If you hate him so much why did you close the pub today?"

      "How did you know about that when you only got in at nine?"

      "I'll tell you in a minute, if you answer my question"

      "I did it in case a family member was in the area to see me and they saw I carried on as if nothing was different. Although most pretend I don't exist, I didn't want to be isolated from my blood relatives completely. Now it's your turn to talk"

      "My wife was abducted here; she didn't know who took her here or anything so she was going to hide out here until I got here. It was shut so that possibility was destroyed"

      "Where is she now? Why aren't you with her?"

      "I have her stuff with me, that's most of what I left in the back earlier so I will be seeing her, just not as a husband should. She went to Giovanni, I take it you know who he is from the amount of Rockets that drink in here (she nodded to express her familiarity) and rang me to tell me the whole thing whilst she was naked in his bed, that tell you why I'm here drinking like there's no tomorrow. She wouldn't even kiss me properly after she lost our daughter, and suddenly she ran to a guy who's raped her before with open arms and legs"

      "I'm sorry for you"

      "Don't be; it's better I know she's not to be trusted now as opposed to if I found out if I got her pregnant again. Pity she couldn't do it a few days ago; I'll lose half my stuff now if she files for divorce. I personally want an annulment, the less to do with her the better. She's always hurt me one way or another"

      "I'm still sorry for you because from what I've known of you, you're a really nice guy and almost a perfect gentleman"

      "Oh, so I only make an almost?"

      "I've also seen you in action, you can make drunk women love you and get their hopes up and do nothing, even though they as good as start doing stripteases for you"

      "That's not all that true; I tried to make it clear I wasn't interested in women as much as I could without risking myself with potential passes from puffs. I doubt any of those drunken women loved me anyway, in the strictest sense"

      "I know that at least one allowed you to take their heart, even though it was an uncharacteristic action in her"

      "I'm not so drunk I can't comprehend what you're saying, but I can't offer you love in the long-term commitment sense, I can't trust women to that extent just yet, I mean I'm not even married a week and it's in smoke"

      "I'm not interested in what you can't offer me, what can you do?"

      He closed the gap between them which had been rapidly shrinking over the last ten minutes and pressed his lips against hers. She shivered slightly as he flicked her blouse open without manually undoing any of the buttons and pressed her body against his. He suddenly broke away from her, seeing an instant of hurt in her eyes as he did so, then seeing her fold over her blouse to hide her lingerie from him. His hunger was still evident, but instead of making excuses to leave, he walked over to the door and asked her if she wanted him to stay or leave. She almost too quickly replied with the first option and she realised why he'd done that. He locked the door which the barmaid had failed to do, thinking her predecessor would be leaving at a later time, and then he set the security system, making it obvious to his previous employer that he had no intention of leaving her. She was still nervous, but that was lost when he pulled her out of her seat and picked her up to engage in another passion-riddled kiss, both feeling the excitement rise as she wrapped her legs around his hips. They separated only when they were heading upstairs and locked the doors behind them, extinguishing the lights as they went.

      "I don't have any condoms with you, do you have any?"

      "I've never had unprotected sex, I always keep a certain supply in here instead of stocking the vending machines in the restrooms"

      "What's the likelihood of you getting pregnant at this time of the month?"

      "None whatsoever, I'm actually due to start menstruating"

      "I'm clean and I can guarantee that, I've only slept with two women and both were virgins when I did it and we were well protected. I'm not trying to put you into a bad habit here, but if there's no chance of you getting pregnant and you're willing, you'll enjoy natural sex far more than you would normally. I can guarantee you that"

      "Are you sure you're clean? I don't want to do it for a bit of pleasure if there's any chance of exchanging diseases"

      James was silent for a moment, glad they were in the dark so Elora couldn't see his spooked expression at her voicing the logic he'd tried explaining to Jessie recently.

      "Positive. I'll still wear one if you want me to, but this is all about me pleasing you, not the other way around like most men want. I'm going to come at the end of this anyway, it's just this way you get a lot of the fun too"

      She grinned and dealt with his clothing, as he was doing with hers, when they fell back on the bed, acting with the eagerness of happy teenagers but with the maturity they'd both gained to make a mind-blowing combination for the two.

      Unlike the time he'd played away with Tyra, he felt no remorse for his actions after the event. She'd betrayed him willingly, and since he didn't consider them together anymore, this couldn't be considered as cheating, so he might as well enjoy it to the maximum. He did just that every time his body felt recovered, and he was glad he bore more stamina than most men, as Elora discovered. He was also the first proper partner she'd had where he cared about her end of satisfaction as well, and her bliss was greater than usual as it was with a guy she'd actually yearned for. She was glad law forbade her from selling alcohol until late in the morning, as she'd need to regain a lot of energy through sleep after his performance.

                                                  AN:

Yep I've screwed up their relationship once again, any evil comments regarding my work will be greatly appreciated, as to compensate you will get an email back with a couple of reasons why it has to be like this for the plot to work out right. Any positive comments can be dropped off in the review box if you feel like giving this grieving author a bit of happiness. Dedicated to my child that was, but now never will be.