By the time two days had passed with not even a glimpse of Butch, Jessie started to get worried. Sure, they hadn't met in person since her initial proposition to him, but she'd usually see his back as he walked down the hallway, or spot him smoking outside, or something. When James and Meowth replied that they hadn't seen him, either, her worry amplified to the beginnings of panic.
On the third day, the fear was getting unbearable, and she tried to soothe herself with different scenarios that could explain his abscence. Maybe he'd simply been working in Carter's office more than usual as of late, or he'd been sent off somewhere- with Cassidy, perhaps. He'd show up, with his usual air of arrogance, and tell her he wasn't going to do it. Survival was his main concern, after all. He was a cockroach, the one to crawl out of the rubble when everyone else was dead.
Jessie was waiting for the coffee machine in the hall to fill the paper cup, going over these thoughts in her head, when she overheard a snippet of conversation that made her chest go tight and her stomach heavy.
"I don't know his name- the guy with green hair? Sounds like he eats a pack of cigarettes a day?"
She spun round, strode after the agents who were speaking and grabbed one of their arms. They met her with frowns.
"Hey, get off m-"
"What happened to the man you were talking about?" she blurted. The younger of the two men grimaced.
"The bodyguard?" he asked. Jessie nodded mutely, terrified of hearing spoken aloud what she all but knew already.
"Oh man, he was messed up," the Rocket said. "I was heading down one of the corridors on the same floor as the boss' office, and I see this guy in front of me with another bodyguard helping him walk- his foot was so fucked, it looked kinda like this." He tried to demonstrate to his audience of two, twisting his leg so his foot faced backwards. Jessie felt her breathing go funny.
"Shit- did you know him?" the other agent asked.
"What happened to him after?" Jessie implored them, ignoring the man's question. The younger Rocket's expression quickly changed from matching someone eager to share the gory details to someone realising they were in a very awkward position.
"I mean, I didn't see where they went, exactly, but... I mean, there was a gunshot, I think. Or a really loud bang, it could have been something else-"
Jessie walked past them, driven towards her room by nothing more than muscle memory. She knew she couldn't afford to lose it here, out in plain view of everybody, so she focused on everything else that she could: she counted the steps she took, started a tally in her head of grunts versus higher ranking agents she saw on her way, softly whistled the same seven notes over and over again.
She reached the door, eventually. One hundred-and-forty-two steps. Ish. She'd lost count somewhere. Eighteen grunts to three higher ranking agents.
Jessie stepped into the room, closed the door behind her, and climbed onto her bed. She buried her face into the pillow and screamed.
James and Meowth returned shortly after, and she stared at them, no longer feeling connected to reality. She was outside of herself, watching the words leave her mouth.
"He's dead," she told them. "Butch got killed."
James paled.
"What?"
"He got shot by another bodyguard."
Meowth opened his mouth, closed it again, his face not settling on one emotion.
"D-Do ya know why?" he asked eventually.
Jessie shrugged. "Guess he did something to piss off Carter."
The truth stabbed at her, twisting the knife, but she couldn't let it surface. Not with James here. Not when it would fuel his argument to back out of her plan. No- she would wait until he was gone, out of earshot.
That opportunity didn't arise until late that evening. They hadn't really discussed the whole morbid matter any further. What was there to say? "Shame about it, huh? Who's next, do you reckon?"
"What do you say to some food?" James proposed out of nowhere. His partners looked at him, and he went on: "I was thinking of taking a trip out to the town, picking up some pizza or something."
It was a somewhat odd suggestion- the meals provided at HQ actually weren't bad, and it was a long way to go for a takeout, but Jessie wasn't going to argue when it provided her with the window she needed.
"Sure," she answered for the both of them. She looked James up and down, frowning at his uniform. "Make sure you're disguised though. We're media stars, remember."
"Yeah- yeah, of course."
As soon as James had left, Meowth perched next to her on the couch, his eyes probing.
"Jess, what-"
"I told him to do it," she whispered. "I wanted him to try, because I thought it might work, but I didn't think and now he's dead."
Meowth heaved in a sigh. "An'... He really went through wid it?"
"Evidently," Jessie scoffed. "Idiot." She groaned, taking her head in her palms. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."
She felt Meowth's paw on her arm.
"It ain't your fault."
"Of course it is!" she snapped. "I talked him into it with no plan, no nothing! Just told him to get on with it, that he'd be doing something important- and he's dead, Meowth. I got him killed."
The cat pokemon was silent for a few moments, and she couldn't stand it, that abyss empty of noise, swarmed only by the thoughts that grew more monstrous by the second, the guilt-
"He made da right choice," Meowth said. Jessie looked at him- she would have laughed if it wasn't all so awful.
"Clearly," she replied, her voice laced with sarcasm.
"He took a risk, and it didn't pay off. But it was still a risk worth takin'."
"Nothing's worth what happened to him."
"Whatever you say, he made dat decision," Meowth continued. "He decided it was worth it, and- and dat ain't on you."
Jessie thought about what he'd said. She didn't believe it, not really, but sitting around feeling miserable wasn't helping anybody either. It was done. Butch wasn't coming back, no matter how bad she felt about it.
"We've got to do it," she said, forcing out the words. They grounded her back in the here and now. "So then- so at least his death isn't meaningless."
Meowth nodded, and she was stunned at how calm he seemed. He was putting on a much better face than she was.
"I don't t'ink we should tell Jim," Meowth said softly. "Dere ain't no convincin' him to get on board wid it, so..."
"Yeah," Jessie agreed. "He'll just put the plan and himself at risk."
The words sounded so tactical, void of feeling- but she preferred them that way. As it was, emotion was her enemy. She needed a clear head.
"Okay den," Meowth sighed. "Let's talk plannin'."
Beyond the initial line of trees that made up the forest next to headquarters, James was plunged into the evening's premature darkness. He traced his path with a flashlight that seemed to be on its last legs, for all the flickering it was doing.
Venturing into town to get food had just been an excuse- not a very good one, he knew- to get away from headquarters. There had been no let-up from the waves of death and violence surrounding them, and staying in that building only amplified the memories. It suffocated him.
Here, he could at least breathe. The crunch of twigs and dead leaves underfoot, the rustles of wind that sent shivers up his arms and back- that was enough. Here, the world was alive and untouched by evil.
Of course, no environment was potent enough to wash away the day's events- nor did James want to ignore them. What had happened deserved thinking about.
In the last year, he had discovered more breeds of grief than he ever thought he would, and now yet another one was rearing its head. Grief for a man he'd considered a foe, an annoyance- someone who'd thrown him under the bus more times than he could count. Butch had had no qualms about letting them rot in jail, or assaulting them with their own pokemon, and James was fairly sure his rival would have gone further if the situation called for it.
And it still hurt, for him to be dead all of a sudden. In that sneering massacre of the motto, he had linked hands with Cassidy; he'd laughed triumphantly at the hint of victory and snapped at the all too frequent occurance of being misnamed. He was human. James supposed that the way he'd seen Butch couldn't differ all that much from the way the twerps saw him and Jessie.
He kept his steady pace, the dirt beneath him morphing into the concrete of the road as he neared the forest's edge. Keeping that fear away, the fear of Jessie and Meowth ending up dead as well, was an increasingly challenging task. Butch's death had only strengthened it, hitting home the hard truth of consequence, should something go wrong.
Did Cassidy know?
The sudden thought floored him, stopped him in his tracks. For a moment it was as if he could feel her grief: her partner was gone. He didn't know if the two of them had been very close, but there had been something there, in all those interactions he'd had with the duo. Something more than the business-like formality that uncaring agents might have carried themselves with.
James shook the sensation off. He wasn't strong enough to keep it there, clinging to his shoulders. There was too much weight there as it was.
There was still a while to go until he reached the town- much too far to travel on foot. He hadn't taken the balloon due to the fact that it wasn't the most inconspicuous method of transport, and now his options were reduced to hitch-hiking or waiting for a night bus. The traffic was very sparce, so James opted for the latter.
He checked the timetable at the bus stop, wholly expecting to have to wait for a good hour, but surprised to see that the next bus was scheduled in just under ten minutes. He supposed that was a good thing, even if a part of him would rather have lingered for as long as possible before making the return trip.
Foggy headlights plowed through the dark, and he flagged down the vehicle. James paid his fare silently, hoping that his outfit was a far enough throw from his regular look to keep him under the radar- he'd pulled his hair back under a baseball cap and thrown on a jacket, but hadn't bothered to change his trousers or boots. It didn't hold the character of one of his typical disguises. His heart wasn't in it.
But the driver gave him the ticket without so much as a raised eyebrow, and James sank into a seat near the back. As he watched the shadows tear past through the grimy window, his mind wandered back to Jessie and Meowth, and he vowed something to himself, unsure of how he was going to do it, but knowing that failing to do so would break him.
He had to keep them alive, no matter what.
"We'll need other people."
Meowth frowned at Jessie's statement, but waited to hear her out.
"The two of us won't be enough- not at our rank, certainly," she continued. "The more people we can get on board, the better a chance we'll have."
"An' da more people we go 'round askin', da more likely we are ta get rumbled."
Jessie nodded. "Yeah, I know." She hummed a low note in thought. "We already know that we're gonna be taking risks no matter what, so I guess it's just a case of minimising those risks the best we can."
She closed her eyes. She had an idea, but to voice it terrified her. It reminded her too much of what she'd asked of Butch, so certain that she'd been right at the time. There was no way she was going to let Meowth fall to the same sticky fate.
But she'd just said it herself: there was risk no matter what. And this was one of them.
"Do..." She sighed. "Do you think you could handle the recruitment side of things? Because, because I think you'd draw less attention, if you acted like a regular pokemon."
"Yeah, o' course!" Meowth agreed. His willingness left her all the more uneasy.
"I think the best thing is if you listen out for any talk that sounds anti-Carter, then tail the agents for a while and see if they say anything more damning," she said.
"And den ask 'em if dey'll join us?" Meowth concluded.
"More or less." Jessie didn't like this, none of it. It wasn't thought-out enough. They were playing it by eye with their lives as forfeit. "I think we should take our time with this," she added. "Get every detail ironed out before we jump in the deep end."
Meowth ran his tongue over his front teeth. "I get what you're sayin', but I don't t'ink we can wait around," he said. "Ya remember how few an' far between our meetin's wid Giovanni used ta be? He could go off da radar for months at a time, an' show up somewhere across da world!"
He wrung his paws together. There was hurt in his eyes, but Jessie didn't hear it slip into his voice.
"What I'm sayin' is... Right now we know where Carter's at, cause he's here. An' he could vamoose any time, an' we might not get dis chance again."
She hated that what he said was making sense.
"Meowth, just, whatever happens, be careful," she mumbled, and her words sounded pleading. Ordinarily, that would have bothered her, but right now she couldn't care less.
He looked back at her, solemn.
"I will be. I promise ya," he said. "I ain't goin' down before we even get into da main event, I'll tell ya dat."
Jessie gave the trace of a smirk.
"Good. Me neither."
In the time it took for James to return, there were a few further developments. Jessie and Meowth decided to wait for Carter's next public appearance that they knew of- a short meeting regarding developments in Kanto. It was a scenario they could at least pinpoint to a time and a place, rather than just jumping him in the hall or something. Meowth brought up the matter of weaponry, and Jessie replied that it was all too easy to get hold of a piece if you knew where to look, who to ask.
She was actually starting to get worried about James- it had been a few hours, and was nearing midnight already. Surely he should be back by now? Had he run into trouble- gotten lost? Been recognised? Or maybe Carter knew about what they'd been discussing, and someone had tailed him from headquarters and-
The door swung open, clanging against the radiator as James half-stepped, half-stumbled into the room with three pizza boxes cradled to his chest. Jessie relaxed.
"Took ya time," Meowth said in greeting as James struggled to shut the door without the use of his hands.
"Yeah, sorry," James replied, sheepish. "Took longer than I thought."
As he put the boxes down on the coffee table, Jessie had an idea. Not the usual, conniving sort, but it still filled her with nerves.
"Hey... Do you guys feel like watching a movie or something?"
James blinked at her question. He'd expected her to retire to her bed without many words- she'd been acting strangely, distant, since the news about Butch had reached her. Not that he was unhappy at her suggestion. It was a welcome surprise.
"That sounds good," he answered, starting to pull off his boots. They were caked with a good couple of inches of dirt, and he made a mental note to clean them first thing in the morning.
Meowth was less taken aback, but a bittersweet feeling underlaid his understanding. Jessie wasn't betting that they were going to make it through this alive, and was making use of what time she knew they had left.
This was a goodbye, just in case.
They settled themselves on the couch, Jessie flipping between channels until she found a film that was only about ten minutes in. James grimaced as he picked up a slice of pizza.
"Oh- it's cold. I'm sorry, I tried to keep it warm, but-"
Jessie cut him off by reaching over him for a slice of her own.
"Cold pizza's good," she said, taking a bite. Huh. It was good. She was hungrier than she'd realised.
The movie- a spy thriller with a budget blown on car chases and explosions- was nothing award-worthy, but it was entertaining, and that was all any of them really cared about. Meowth added his own, unofficial commentary through the entire thing, complaining about continuity errors and bursts of terrible acting, but his remarks lacked any real frustration.
In the pulsing glow of the television, Jessie focused on her companions more than anything else. And when James leaned over to rest his head on her shoulder, she leaned back into him. She found his hand on the sofa cushion, and without a word, linked her fingers between his.
With equal fervour, and that same vague sense that this would all soon slip away, he squeezed back.
The next morning, Jessie made her own venture into the town, but it wasn't the pizza place she was headed for. Before her, brick and glass stretched up twenty stories high, a looming structure of cold business. People dressed mostly in suits strode in and out of the revolving door, phones pressed to their ears, briefcases at their hips, impatience on their faces.
She took yet another deep breath. Clenched her hands, unclenched them. It was clear in her mind what she was going to do: now it was just a case of doing it.
Sidling round to the side of the building so she wasn't so out in the open, Jessie's thoughts continued to churn. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't going to stop her from doing what she needed to, either. This was more important than her feelings.
When she was sufficiently hidden from the public eye, she stopped and felt in her coat pocket. She rolled the small plastic spheres between her fingers.
Don't dawdle. It'll make it worse.
Jessie enlarged the pokeballs and hit the release buttons before she could back out. From the flood of white light, Gourgeist and Wobbuffet materialised, staring at her from their spot on the edge of the grass.
"WOBBUFFET!"
The blue blob dove forwards with more force than Jessie was prepared for, and she almost fell backwards. Wobbuffet was buzzing with excitement, babbling his name over and over, and Jessie's heart went heavy with guilt.
Since things had changed for the worse and the missions had carried the possibility of death all the time, she had opted to keep Wobbuffet's pokeball in storage at headquarters. He wasn't one to act on instruction, and the idea of him emerging with a hearty shriek in the middle of a gunfight was enough to convince Jessie not to carry him around with her anymore.
That didn't stop her from feeling like a lousy trainer, though. Here he was, so happy to finally see her again- how many times had he come out of his pokeball, hoping to see her face only to be met with the darkness of an empty storage room? For the entire trip out to town, he hadn't come out once- and the journey had taken a good forty minutes. Which meant he'd stopped hoping that his surroundings would be different. He'd given up.
Not that there was any evidence of that now- here he was, as full of life as ever.
"Easy!" Jessie said, pushing back at him so she didn't topple over. Wobbuffet obliged for all of two seconds before hurtling towards her again, this time wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Wobbuffet!" he cried.
"Yeah, I've missed you too, you big dumb blob," Jessie chuckled. He grinned up at her without a trace of hurt.
Behind him, Gougeist loitered, less sure than her more extroverted counterpart. Jessie's eyes moved to her, and she beckoned her over.
"Both of you- I need to tell you what's happening, okay? So let me finish- and that goes double for you," she said, jabbing a finger towards Wobbuffet. "No sudden screaming, okay?"
"Wobbuffet!"
"Yeah, exactly. Not that." Her smile faded as a sigh left her lips. She didn't want to leave this happy moment, not yet. Next came the hard bit.
"I'm sorry I haven't seen more of you- both of you," Jessie started. "Believe me, I wanted to see you all the time, but... It wasn't safe. I know you've seen glimpses of it, Gourgeist, but not everything." She watched them, trying to guage if they understood her so far. It was hard to tell, but they were at least listening.
"There have been things going on in Team Rocket- really bad things. Bad people. It's nothing like it was before. And... And I thought it would be okay if I just kept you guys from seeing it, or getting involved, and then you'd be safe."
"Wobba." He'd already broken their deal, but it was a quiet utterance, and for him that was an impressive feat.
"But now, me and Meowth are going to do something, and it's going to be dangerous. Really dangerous. I'm not sure if I'll be back or not," she said, and the words hit her, out loud in the air like that. She'd thought about it plenty, but there was something weird about actually saying it. She could die.
"Gourgeist?"
Ouch. That hurt, that quizzical, unknowing tone. Jessie continued anyway.
"And if I don't come back, I need to be sure that you're okay, and not just handed out to some other agent, someone who might not care about keeping you safe. I've sent a message to Christopher- do you remember him, Wobbuffet?"
"Wobbuffet!" he confirmed, but it was a little uneasy this time. He was getting the message, or at least part of it.
"Christopher is our friend from Sinnoh," Jessie explained for Gourgeist. "He's a very good person. So what's going to happen is, if I can't come back for you, Christopher's going to take care of you instead."
"Wobb?"
"Gour?"
Why couldn't they just get it? Save her the pain of drawing this out?
"Look, I might not be coming back. Ever. So I'm going to leave you here- it's a safe place that only me and Christopher will have access to. Do you understand?"
They understood.
Wobbuffet's mouth trembled, tears appearing at the corners of his eyes, whilst Gourgeist hovered closer to Jessie, nuzzling into her side. Both of them were protesting, repeating their names, and though a large part of Jessie wished she could understand what they were saying, she was pretty sure to hear it would crush her.
"I wanted to tell both of you that... I'm sorry I ever brought you into all this," Jessie choked, "and that you've been the best pokemon I could ever have asked for."
The three of them crouched in their hug, Wobbuffet blubbering loudly enough for them all. Gourgeist seemed more accepting, but the premature grief on her face was equal.
Tears flowed from Jessie's eyes and dripped from her chin; she didn't have the desire nor the energy to hold them back.
In the back of her mind, the unrelenting reminder: they couldn't stay like this forever.
She sniffled, pulled away from the embrace.
"I have to go," she whispered. "If it comes to it, you'll have a good life with Christopher. A really good life. But I'll do everything I can to come back. I promise."
Jessie took hold of their pokeballs again, held them out.
"Thank you both for everything." She tried to smile. "Be good, okay?"
Not wanting to give herself the chance to crumble, she clicked the return trigger on both pokeballs. Red swamped them, and they were gone, just like that.
She stood, stagnant as she cried, and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. She only needed to compose herself for long enough to get into the building, find her deposit box-
White light spilled out of her pocket, and Wobbuffet came towards her, equally tearful.
"Wobbuffet! Wobbuffet!" he told her.
"Wobbuffet, please- I'm sorry, but this is best, okay?" She bent down to rest her chin on top of his round head. Now was the time to be strong, for him. "Whatever happens, you'll be okay. Be brave." And she recalled him again.
There was a slip of paper with the deposit box number in her skirt pocket- she began to reach for it, hoping-
White light.
"Wobbuffet! Wobba wob wobbuffet!"
Shit. She couldn't handle this.
"Wobbuffet, please," she implored him, more forceful now. "I'm sorry- I'm so sorry! I don't want to leave you, but I have to, okay? Return!"
He'd barely been in the ball for a second when it opened again.
"Wobbuff-"
"Please!" Jessie shouted. She hadn't meant to- the frustration and sadness had just swirled together too long. "Please, I can't deal with this- I can't deal with you doing this! Just stay, okay?! Stay!"
Wobbuffet was quiet. He just looked at her, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Wobbuffet," he croaked.
"Return."
She waited for the inevitable. The slight shake of the pokeball before it opened once more, and she truly lost it.
Nothing.
It wasn't enough for her to get her hopes up, not yet- he'd come out again, any second now, an avalanche of wails and cries. But five minutes passed, and still, there was nothing.
Good, he'd gotten the message, he wasn't going to-
Jessie dissolved into sobs. Her knees buckled and the weight of it all, everything, crashed down on her. The relief of his obedience had quickly morphed into the awful realisation that he really was going to stay this time. Which meant she might never see him again.
She hugged them to her, and forced herself to breathe.
"I love you both," she whispered.
When she was calm enough to get up, Jessie pocketed the pokeballs again, and still sniffing, went to check her reflection in the nearest window. It was obvious she'd been crying, and the evidence wasn't going to fade anytime soon. She'd just have to put up with a few odd stares.
Deposit box 2031 sat, unassuming, at the lower left portion of the row. This was to be their sanctuary, for now. All her trust put in a thin layer of metal and a lock.
She pulled the door open, and placed the pokeballs inside as gently as if they were eggs. Jessie looked at them, sitting there in the dark cube. They would be safe, she reminded herself. That was what mattered.
Exhaling, she shut the door again and twisted the key in the lock.
"Goodbye," she mouthed.
