Dirt Under the Rug

After their meeting James' condition had improved greatly. No longer did he just sit there vacantly. He now had a purpose. The thought of freedom had given James hope. The representative from Team Rocket hadn't said when they'd be freed, but that didn't matter to James. He'd be out soon. He, Jessie, and Meoweth could all go back to the way things were. True that they wouldn't be with Team Rocket anymore, but that didn't matter. Just as long as they were all free. Just as long as they were all together. They would find a new life. Start with a clean slate out in the world.

The next few days seemed to fly by. There was still no word of when or how he and Jessie would be getting out, but James was certain that Team Rocket would come through for them.

The guards had noticed the drastic change in James' condition, but they did not question it. He still obeyed their orders, but this time with an enthusiasm that disturbed the guards even more than his former apathy.

Meoweth wandered the streets. The initial feelings of triumph and freedom were wearing off as he was trying to figure out what his next step would be. If he wanted to help James and Jessie he would first have to find out what had happened to them. The last he had seen them was back in that holding cell before he had been carted off to that abominable Rehabilitation Center. He had no idea what had happened to them since.

Meoweth could feel his stomach rumbling with hunger pangs as he passed by a string of restaurants along the side of the street. Each of them gave of a savory smell that made his mouth water. The Rehab Center had given him plenty of food, but it was always bland and tasteless. Probably because most of their funding came from the city. He recalled how during their travels he, James, and Jessie would often stop at various eateries, when they actually had money. More often than not they were wandering around on empty stomachs.

Meoweth stopped himself before further thoughts of food would distract him from his goal. He had to find out what had become of his fellow teammates. One thought he had was contacting the headquarters to see if they knew. More than likely Jessie would've called into the headquarters when they had been arrested. Now he'd just have to find a way to get to a phone to make the call. Having no money he couldn't just go and use any payphone.

Meoweth looked around trying to think of a way he could get some money to use one of the payphones, since it wasn't very likely that anybody would let him use their phone. Most people were rather shocked at the fact that he could talk.

As Meoweth was deciding on how to get the money he needed a man passed by him totally absorbed in whatever thought was currently occupying his mind. A perfect target to 'borrow' some money from.

It had been awhile since he had done this. For the longest time he had only been snatching pokémon with Team Rocket. Back in his days on the streets he had stolen what he needed to get buy. Most of the time it had only been scraps of food, with a little bit of valuables on the side. But back in those days valuables did him little good, since he couldn't just go into any little store and spend them.

Meoweth casually approached the man. The man seemed to take no notice of him as he walked on. Meoweth carefully reached up toward the man's pants pocket. Meoweth could feel a lump in the pocket, probably the man's wallet, but he wasn't sure. As he pulled his hand back the man turned his head.

"Hey! What are you…"

Meoweth quickly pulled his hand back, booty and all, and took off down the street. He darted into the first alley he saw, darting behind a crate. His heart was racing with excitement. It seemed that it had been too long since he had last done this. His skills weren't quite what they used to be. He peered up over the crate, gazing about to see if the man had pursued. After about a minute of waiting Meoweth decided that he had probably lost the man. He still wasn't sure what exactly he had grabbed from the man's pocket. In all of the excitement he had just made a grab for whatever he could.

Meoweth looked to the forgotten contents of his hand. There was a crumpled paper, a tissue, and a few coins. Meoweth cast aside the paper and the tissue, counting the change. It was just barely enough to make a phone call. Now he'd just have to find a payphone in a spot where he wouldn't be disturbed. He cautiously wandered out of the alley back into the street, checking to make sure that it was clear. A few people were just moving along the sidewalks, but there seemed to be no one that would really take notice of him. Slowly Meoweth walked out of the alleyway back onto the street. As he walked down the sidewalk he watched to see if anyone was following him. He didn't want someone to come along thinking he was either lost or a stray and take him back to the shelter. After walking a short distance he noticed a row of pay phones. Deciding there was no better place he dialed the number.

It had been nearly a week since the trial. Ash was still plagued by that feeling of nausea he had gotten when he had been on the witness stand. As much as he had wanted to see Team Rocket punished for their crimes, something just didn't feel right about the whole situation. He felt that there was something that he was forgetting. Something of great importance.

"Hey Ash, how are you feeling today?" asked Brock.

"Oh, hey Brock. I didn't hear you come in."

"Is something wrong Ash?"

"What?"

"You just look a little bit peaked. Are you still feeling nauseous?"

"Uh, just a little."

"Well you should really eat some of that great food there," said Brock pointing at the untouched tray of food on the table.

"You know you need to eat to regain your strength."

"I'm just not feeling that hungry right now."

"Well don't let the nurse take it away. It would be a shame to see such a delicacy go to waste."

Ash shot an awkward glance at Brock, wondering how he could possibly consider the bland much a delicacy.

"You know I might just have to get the recipe from one of those gorgeous cooks."

Ash just rolled his eyes at the thought of Brock hounding yet another unsuspecting woman. It didn't seem to matter where he went, Brock was always chasing after some woman. Most of the time Misty would cool his jets.

"Say Ash, don't you start therapy today?"
"I think the doctor said something about that."

"Well then, you should at least have a bite to eat before they start."

Ash just glanced over at the tray of food, his stomach turning at the sight. It wasn't because of the food, it wasn't really that bad compared to some of the things he'd had. There was just this sickening feeling he couldn't explain.

"Come on Ash how about just a small bite?" said Brock holding a spoonful of some mush that had been taken from the tray.

With a quick thrust the spoon entered Ash's mouth. Ash tried to voice a protest, but with the spoon in his mouth all that came out was some garbled words.

"Just swallow Ash."

Ash chocked down the mush just to get the spoon out of his mouth. He grabbed the spoon and pulled it away from Brock.

"What did you do that for?"

"Well somebody has to make sure you eat. Now how about some more?" said Brock reaching for the spoon in Ash's hand.

Ash retracted his hand keeping the spoon as far from Brock's reach as he could.

"Now come on Ash you have to eat some more."
"No!"

Ash raised the spoon above his head. As he stretched his arms he felt a sharp pain in his chest. Obviously he wasn't as well healed as he had thought. Groaning in pain he lowered his arm back.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

As Ash was finishing the statement a strong retching feeling came over him.

"Ash, are you sure you're all right?"

Ash tried to respond, but the waves of nausea along with the gagging prevented him. With one large heave the small amount of contents that had been in his stomach came pouring out of his mouth.

Brock frantically looked around the room for some container, but couldn't find anything suitable. Finally his eyes came across a small yellow dish. He rushed it under Ash's chin to catch whatever was left.

"Thanks Brock," Ash said weakly still recovering.

"Ash, do you want me to go get the nurse?"
"No thanks Brock. I'll be fine," Ash said collapsing back onto the pillow.

"Well let me just go see if they have a spare gown," Brock stated as he darted out of the room calling for the nurse.

As Ash lay there he wondered if his bouts of nausea would make him have to stay longer. For the past three days he'd been having these bouts. The doctor had said if it didn't get better they would have to put him on another IV. Ash lay wondering what was causing these bouts.