Fated

Summary: Jessie finds herself in exile, forced into captivity with a mysterious stranger. With nowhere to go and seemingly no hope of escape, they share the stories behind their miserable fates. Hers is filled with questions. His is filled with answers.

Chapter 16: Longing

Is it dark where you are?
Can you count the stars where you are?
Do you feel like you are a thousand miles from home?
Are you lost, where you are?
Can you find your way when you're so far?
Do you fear, where you are?
A thousand nights alone.
...Howie Day - The Longest Night

Jessie had stayed awake so that she could see Jack off. She didn't know where he was going or why, but like with little Teddy Parker, she had an urge to take care of him. When did that happen? She supposed it had something to do with him acting like a zombie all day. There were no more stories to be had that night. He had more or less become a mute.

It was exactly midnight when she watched him get out of bed and pull on heavy clothes.

"You're going now?" she asked. Jack jumped at the sound of her voice.

"Yes," he replied, "I thought you were asleep."

"Couldn't," Jessie answered, "It's dark out. Why don't you go in the morning?" she asked. He shook his head.

"My ritual," he reminded her, "Get some rest, Jessilina. I've left all you'll need by your bed," he advised, moving towards the door.

"You're not going to kill yourself, are you?" Jessie suddenly asked. He paused for a moment.

"No," he murmured, "Just paying some respects."

And then he was gone.

Jessie did her best to lay back and close her eyes, but like the previous night, her sleep was fitful at best. Between the disturbing dreams, she was always listening for Jack. Once or twice she heard something move on the roof, but she dismissed it as snow. She was awake when the sun's first rays illuminated the lonely cabin. She ate a bit of her breakfast to ease the hunger growls in her stomach, but left most of it for later.

Her ankle was feeling a bit better today so she took off the bandages and tried to move her foot. It hurt, but she knew that the more small exercises she performed, the quicker she would be walking again…not that she had that far to go, just to the latrine and back. She was getting used to the task of using a latrine, but still hated it.

Then she took advantage of Jack's absence to use the face cloth and basin to wash herself. It wasn't a hot shower or a relaxing bubble bath, but at least she felt cleaner. Then she wrapped her ankle again. After that, however, she had nothing to do. She resumed yesterday's game of tossing a piece of wood in the air, but that got boring.

She gazed through the window at the looming mountain, particularly at the large chunk of snow that was precariously perched on the top. Definitely an avalanche waiting to happen. If it fell, it would surely bury the little cabin. Jessie shuddered at the thought. What a horrible way to go.

She quit thinking about it and tried to nap, but like always, James's face appeared before her eyes. She thought of him, and Meowth, and Teddy, and, of course, she thought about the results of that pregnancy three years prior. Wherever they were, she hoped that they were safe.

0

James lay on his back staring up at the tiny window, the only one in this…dungeon. He had been banished here after his second escape attempt with a severe warning about what would happen if he tried again.

No, not if. When he tried again.

He knew very well that he would try to run again. He had only been running for his entire life. He should be an expert by now. Besides, he had made a promise…

His chest ached when he thought of Jessie and how they had laid together in bed one night and made a contingency plan for such an event like this. He had hated talking about it. He didn't like to think that something would happen to destroy their little world, but Jessie was adamant that they plan for the worst. She was always like that when she was in what he called 'her survival mode'.

But he loved her. He loved her more than anything else in the world and this, being away from her, was killing him. Seven days and four hours had passed since that fateful day when he had last laid eyes on hers. That was the longest they had been apart since they were sixteen. James smiled sadly, remembering the last time they had been apart. It was when he fled to his parents looking for cash so they could start a life together. He had been gone for six days, an eternity.

James shivered unconsciously as he walked down the long driveway towards his parents' obscenely large mansion. How he hated this mansion. So many unpleasant memories. Sure, his parents were loaded and he never went without, but it all came at a price. He was always expected to act according to the strict southern values and traditions that his parents cherished. They wanted him to be a proper gentleman, a businessman like his father. They never asked what he wanted. Everything was done according to their agenda. He was their son and heir, but only if he conformed to their wishes.

He had never conformed. He had tried to be himself, but eventually all the pressure from his family became too much. He had to run away, leave that place to become the man he was today. Now he was coming back to take what had long been promised to him: the inheritance. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't terrified of coming back to this place, but now he had to step up, face his fears and be the man Jessie deserved and the father that their baby deserved. Their baby. The thought scared him, but it also filled him with courage. He wanted it more than anything. He wanted to be a dad.

"Grow! Grow!" James whirled around at the familiar bark. Growlie, his childhood growlithe ran up to him, looking at him with questions in it's eyes.

"Hey, Growlie," James greeted, ruffling the dog pokemon's ears. Then he turned and knocked on the door. Hopkins the butler nearly had a heart attack when he saw James there.

"Master James!" Hopkins cried through his megaphone. James cringed and stepped inside the house.

"James, darling, what a surprise!" James looked to the foot of the staircase where his mother was descending just after his father.

"Ah, my boy, finally come to settle down then?" his father asked eagerly, eyeing his son's suit with approval. James mustered up all of his acting abilities. He forced a smile.

"Yes," he said, "But there is something I need your help with before I do," he managed to get out. He saw the gloating smiles on his parents' faces and loathed them for it.

"What is it you wish, Darling?" James's mother asked.

"My…my Team Rocket partner is having my child, but I don't want a part of it," James lied through his teeth, shaking as though the lie was physically paining him, "I'd much rather have a family the old fashioned way, but I do feel some obligation to provide for her and the child. I want a portion of my inheritance to go to them before I marry…Jessibelle," he shuddered. He waited as his parents thought it over. They exchanged wary, yet conniving looks. Not this time, James thought.

"That can be arranged," his father said slowly, "What is the…lady's name? We'll deposit the money into her account."

"That won't work. She's a member of Team Rocket. She doesn't have a bank account," James said, "I am going to deliver the money to her personally."

"Now son, you know we can't allow you to go alone with all of that money," his mother chastised him. James felt despair. His plan failed.

"I could go with him, Mother," a sweet, simpering voice said from his left. James started and resisted the urge to run. Jessibelle. It should be a crime for her to look so much like Jessie, yet act so different.

"What an excellent idea, Jessibelle!" his mother exclaimed, "Why, it would give you and James some time to talk before the big day!"

"Excellent," James said through his teeth.

"Come, Son. We shall go to the vault," his father said. James followed his father to the family vault, a large underground room far from Jessiebelle's gym of torture. James looked at the stacks of money and coins and felt longing. This was what he had ran away from in exchange for a life of starving and running.

"Are you sure you want to do this, James?" his father asked as they stood together in front of the opening, just father and son, a rare moment. James didn't hesitate. Sure, there were millions of dollars in that vault, but Jessie wasn't tin here.

"Yes," James answered, "I want her and my child to be taken care of."

"Son, illegitimate children are not entitled to-"

"Father, please," James pleaded.

"They're not real-"

"It'll put my mind to rest," James said firmly, "Please."

Thomas Morgan sighed and put bricks of money into a black bag, oblivious as James shoved more money into his rucksack behind his father's back. Then James and his father climbed back up the steps to the main floor.

"Can you not do anything right?" a voice raged from the nearby kitchen. James stopped walking when he heard a SMACK and a childish cry of pain.

"What was that?" he asked. His father shuffled nervously.

"Ah, nothing. One of the servant boys no doubt."

James opened the door to the kitchen and found Cook standing over a crying little boy. Cook held a ladle, ready to strike the child again.

"Hey!" James cried, stepping into the room. Cook dropped the ladle in shock.

"M-Master James," he stammered.

"He's just a kid!" James exclaimed, looking down at the whimpering child. The boy was familiar although James didn't quite know why. Maybe it was those defeated green eyes that reminded James so much of himself.

"James!" his father called. James gritted his teeth.

"Leave the kid alone," James ordered the cook, casting another quick glance at the turquoise-haired child. He returned to his father, who was eyeing the kitchen with a peculiar frown. Then the older man finally turned away from the kitchen and led James back to the foyer where Jessiebelle and his mother were waiting. James shuddered. It was going to be a very long trip. With a quarter of his inheritance, Jessibelle, and Growlie in tow, he began the long journey back to Sinnoh.

"James Dearest, I personally don't know why we're bothering with this trip," Jessiebelle said acidly as she sat beside him in his father's black Mercedes, "Of course I understand and forgive your little dalliance, but must we give the…girl anything? We need that money, Darling."

James's knuckles were white as he clenched the steering wheel and his voice was clipped as he replied, "I own up to my actions, Jessiebelle."

"Of course you do, Dear Sweet James. Such a soft heart," Jessiebelle said, though it sounded like an insult coming from her lips. James sighed and tried to block out all of Jessibelle's plans, rules, and jibes at his expense. He needed a way to get rid of her. He was getting a lecture about the proper way to turn a corner when another plan formed in his head. They were going through Viridian Forest and he had just spied a rest stop. He pulled over and said that he thought she would like to stretch her legs.

"Why don't mind if I do," she simpered, getting out of the car at the same time as James unbuckled his seatbelt. That's what he was waiting for. He slammed on the gas the moment she shut the door, leaving her in a cloud of dust at the rest stop.

"Grow, Grow, Growlithe?" Growlie looked at his master in confusion. James grinned.

"You didn't really think that I was actually going to marry her, did you?" he asked the Pokemon. Growlie barked in approval. It was in Viridian that he traded the flashy car in for a more family-friendly model. It was also where he officially met his little brother for the first time, when he checked the trunk of the Mercedes and found the turquoise-haired little boy inside.

Teddy. He wondered what his brother was doing now and prayed that he was alright. Teddy didn't do so well alone. Of course, he wouldn't be alone, but Teddy had come to rely on Jessie and James like they were surrogate parents. He was probably scared of being alone and of the burden that had unexpectedly shifted to his shoulders upon Jessie and James's capture.

"You won't be alone for much longer. Any of you," James vowed, "I'll get out of here."

He knew what he had to do and the first step for him was getting out of this dungeon. He sat up and glanced at the door. Any minute, they would come and make him do another jog on that damn treadmill. How he hated that infernal thing and what it represented. A tired prisoner was a compliant one that couldn't think properly. He understood the tactic and did his best to resist, chanting over and over the names he would not forget.

He did that now and pictured their faces. He felt hope well up inside him and he gathered up all his courage.

As he predicted, the door swung open and he bolted for the stairs. One thing about that damn treadmill, it did get him in shape. It took him seconds to leap up the steps and run into the blond woman at the top of the steps. She yelped and fell to the floor, but James took no notice. Normally, he would have felt bad about tackling a woman, but he needed to get out of there and in his opinion, the woman in question deserved it. He raced through the halls he knew so well, even as shouts and alarms filled his ears. He made it to the elaborate foyer as several men in black suits rushed to the door.

He would have been caught had he not slipped and bowled them over. Sometimes being a total clutz came in handy. He was able to scramble out of the pile of bodies and bolt towards the door, which his shaking fingers just managed to open.

Then he was outside, leaping down the front steps and racing through the garden. Just a little further and he would be home free! He could taste freedom and it never felt so good! A few more feet…

THUD!

A vine hit him behind the knees and wrapped itself around his legs, causing him to fall with a loud crack. Winded, but still determined, he tried to crawl towards that gate, that freedom, when he was met with a long white boot. He looked up and was met with the deceptively cherubic face of Domino. Butch and Cassidy flanked her, the latter apparently recovered from James's football tackle at the top of the stairs. Domino smirked down at him, twirling her black tulip in her long, nimble fingers.

"Did we not warn you about what would happen if you tried another half-baked escape plan?" she threatened.

"Screw you," James managed, still winded. Wrong time to be borrowing language from Jessie. Jolts of blue electricity shocked through him, leaving him groaning and in pain, gasping for breath.

"Take him back to the dungeon!" Domino snapped. Like the obedient followers they were, Cassidy and Butch dragged him back towards the house.

In a daze, James looked up at the moon and the starry sky and wished very much that he was back laying in his bed with Jessie, planning for the best and worst of their future together. He whimpered her name. Then he began to mentally run through the rest of the names that kept him going as a tear slipped from his eyes.

0

Meowth was sitting on a very ordinary-looking porch staring up at the perfect round moon and the diamond stars, though on this night, they did not please the scratch cat. It had been a week since Jessie and James had been captured, one of the longest that the cat had ever experienced. It was a long journey, but Meowth and his companions finally made it to Pallet Town a couple hours prior. Even though he hated to be relying on the twerp's mother, he was grateful for the safe base. Now, in the dead of night, he was the only one still awake, exhausted as he was. He just couldn't stop thinking about Jessie and James. He missed them so much.

"Nice night," a voice said from behind the cat. Meowth turned his head and looked back at Mrs. Ketchum's other visitor, a gaunt, hollow-faced man who Meowth had originally mistook as a drifter. Mrs. K, however, thought very highly of this shabby man, calling him a dear old friend. Old was an understatement. This guy claimed to be the same age as Mrs. K, but his brown hair was already greying.

"So-so," Meowth replied in a shrug. The beauty of the night sky had lost its lustre for Meowth. Now it was just vast and empty.

"I understand," the man said, settling in a chair next to Meowth, "Nothing looks the same now."

"Huh?"

"Your friends," the man said, "A terrible blow for you. Life altering. My condolences."

"Dey ain't dead, you know," Meowth told him, watching as he fished a weird-looking cigarette from his pocket with his good hand, his left. His right hand was gone, amputated at the wrist. The man laughed, but it was a hollow, humourless sound.

"Sure they are, my friend. If I know Giovanni Sakaki, they were dead the minute they walked through the door…or they're wishing that they were," the man stated, lighting up. Meowth cringed as a pungent odour reached his nostrils.

"Are you getting high?" Meowth asked. The man sighed as he took a drag.

"Don't tell Delia," he pleaded, "It makes life bearable."

"What bearable?" Meowth questioned, making a face. The scratch-cat's gaze was drawn to the stump on his right arm. The man noted him looking.

"My hand. The deaths and destruction. Everything," the man said, "It numbs it for awhile."

Meowth changed seats so he was upwind from the smoke and glared at the man, "Well, whatever it is, you're wrong about Jessie and James. Dey is alive," he said firmly.

"For now," the man allowed taking another drag.

"And how would you know?" the cat spat.

"I used to be part of that. Team Rocket," the man answered, his eyes fixed ahead. He was a thousand miles away in a different time. Meowth took no notice.

"You?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah. I was an idiot then. Mad at the world and at my famous dad. I needed to do something big, so I joined. Called me 'Motorcycle.' I was partnered with Heath Ketchum, Delia's husband," the man explained. Meowth blinked.

"Da twoip…I mean, Ash's father?" he questioned and when he received a nod, he continued, "Da kid's dad was in Team Rocket? But he never said…and neither did Mrs. K!"

Motorcycle let out another sharp bark of laughter, "Would you tell your kid that you used to steal pokemon for a living?"

Meowth thought about that and it made sense, "But didn't Mrs. K tell him da truth when he was old enough?" he asked. Ash was eighteen. Surely his mother would have told him.

"Sweet Delia…she shelters him," Motorcycle sighed, "She said Heath left on a journey years ago. I think she almost believes it herself. Suppose it's better than the truth."

"Why's dat?" Meowth asked, "Did he die?"

Motorcycle let out another hopeless bark of laughter, "We all died. Even those of us that are alive…we're deader than the ones in the ground. Some admit it, some don't. If your friends, Jessie and James, survive…well…they'll be dead like us," he prophesized. Meowth made a face and made a mental note to keep little ears away from the unstable Motorcycle Oak.

0

Teddy Parker sat on a windowsill and stared down on the porch as Meowth talked to Motorcycle. Meowth looked a little disturbed, but then, he didn't know Motorcycle like Teddy did. To Teddy, Motorcycle was that disturbed uncle, the one who doted on him a lifetime ago when his mama was still alive. Teddy sighed. He remembered his life with his mother. They had been poor, but Mama had loved him and occasionally, Uncle Motorcycle would stop by and give him presents. Those moments with Motorcycle brought out a curious side of his mother. Lana Parker was at ease, yet at the same time, she was paranoid whenever Motorcycle visited. Teddy could still remember Motorcycle's last visit.

"Uncle!" Teddy grinned at the shaggy brown-haired man. Motorcycled patted the boy on the back and offered him a rare half-smile.

"Hey, Champ," Motorcycle greeted, "Where's Mum?"

"In here," Teddy chirped, leading his uncle deeper into the apartment, which reeked of dirty dishes. Motorcycle grimaced at the smell.

"Champ, why don't you go take care of this and I'll talk with your mum, eh?" Motorcycle asked, passing Teddy the puzzle that he had been holding in his whole right hand. Teddy's eyes lit up and he immediately set to work, barely noticing as his uncle slipped into the next room. Puzzles were his thing. He loved them. The other boys at school had video games, but Teddy had puzzles. And drawing. He loved to draw too.

"How are you?" Teddy heard his uncle greet his mother. This was followed by one of his mother's coughing fits. Teddy frowned. She'd been sick for too long.

"Not good," Lana Parker answered. Teddy looked up and frowned. That wasn't what she had told him this morning when he had brought her breakfast. He abandoned the puzzle and crept closer to his mother's bedroom door.

"Figured," Motorcycle admitted, "Graveller died last month."

"I'm sorry," Lana said softly, "He was your last-" More coughing.

"My last pokemon," Motorcycle finished, "My strongest. The others died years ago."

"I know," Lana said.

"I don't know how you're still alive," Motorcycle said, "Human-type pokemon died within weeks of being injected with the virus. The only type of pokemon that survived as long as this are rock-type."

"Don't be so surprised. I survived five years with you and Heath," Lana tried to tease, but her voice was raspy, weak.

"Lana, the boy…"

"I've made arrangements for him," she said softly.

"What kind?" Motorcycle demanded.

"Never you mind."

"Lana, he's my godson. I can take him-"

"Don't be stupid, Motorcycle," Lana chided, "Both of us know that you are in no shape to raise a child. Besides, I've got other plans for you."

Motorcycle snorted, "Only you. Even on your deathbed, you're planning."

"It's the only thing I know," Lana replied, "It kept me alive all these years."

"Yes, offering yourself to that vile bastard as a test subject has worked out so well for you over the years," Motorcycle said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Just listen," Lana snapped, sounding a bit stronger, "I'm not his only test subject. The last time I was there, they were developing a new, faster acting strain of the virus-"

"Oh goodie," Motorcycle griped.

"A new strain based on my data. I peaked at the name of the next subject, who is conveniently being held in the Seafoam Base. Heath," Lana revealed. Teddy heard Motorcycle suck in a breath.

"Heath is dead, Lana."

"You know he's not. He was captured, not gunned down."

"Lana-"

"He's going to be injected in the next few days. You have to stop it. You can't let the scientists get to those islands."

"Lana-"

"He has a son, Motorcycle," Lana said softly.

"I know that."

"A son he's never got the chance to meet. If he's injected, then he will never meet his son."

"Lana, don't!" Motorcycle cried, "You don't know what you're asking of me! I can't go back to Pallet! Not after…I can't!"

"He's our friend," Lana said, "Your friend."

"Lana-"

"Do you want his blood on your hands too?" she asked, "You can save him, Motorcycle. You can save him and redeem yourself from the Pallet Incident."

"So that's what we're calling it, now?" Motorcycle snapped, "The Pallet Incident. My brother died defending me! His kids are orphans because of me!"

"I know it haunts you," Lana said calmly, "but the night of the ambush still haunts you, too. Heath gave up his freedom so we could escape, just like your brother gave up his life for you. Your brother is gone, but Heath isn't. You can save him, give him a chance to meet his son."

"Lana, stop."

"Please," Lana begged, "One last favour."

"You're asking too much."

"Just that you step up and be the man I know you are; the man she'd want you to be."

"Don't bring her into this!" Motorcycle sounded close to tears.

"She loved you. She wouldn't have wanted to see you like this-"

"Lana!" he shouted and suddenly, he was there, standing in front of Teddy, who looked like a deer in headlights, "Champ."

"Uncle Motorcycle?" he questioned. Motorcycle's face softened at the sight of him.

"Teddy, Son, come with me."

"But Mama-"

"Mama's very sick, Son."

"I have to take care of her. I have to help her get better," Teddy insisted.

"Come with me, Ted. Come!" Motorcycle started forwards, but Teddy slipped behind him and ran to the safety of his mother. His frail, coughing, sick mother.

Teddy hadn't really understood that last conversation, the way his mother asked Motorcycle to save someone else as one last favour. She had seemed desperate, but then, those last few months always seemed desperate. Then he had been sent to live with his father, which made him long for his mother, even at her worst. He never really understood why it all had to happen to him.

Actually, he didn't really understand it now, either. He didn't understand much, except that there was now a heap of responsibility on his shoulders. He was thankful no one was around as a tear slipped down his cheek. He had thought that when James and Jessie took him in that he was going to be alright. He thought that his brother would take care of him, but now James and Jessie were gone, just like his mother, and he was left alone again…well, maybe not totally alone, but that wasn't the point! Jessie and James had promised him that they would never leave him alone! They promised to take care of him and now they were gone and he had to take care of what they left behind!

How was that fair! He was just a kid himself! He needed to be taken care of!

He wiped away the angry tears and rushed back to bed when he saw Meowth re-enter the house. Almost instantly a little pair of hands grasped his shirt. He looked over and suddenly he didn't feel quite so angry. He felt sad and he wished more than anything that he had them all back, his mother, James, and Jessie.

0

Once Jessie started thinking about all those she loved, she couldn't stop and she ended up silently mourning the life she lost.

Again, she was thankful Jack was not around as she let her walls down and cried.

0

Jack sat on the roof of his cabin, staring up at the mountain, watching as the sun's rays cast the snow in a golden-orange glow. The hillside looked as though it was on fire and would be reduced to a pile of embers at the end of the day. Jack sighed. The hillside was not on fire, but his chest was.

The burning pain he felt over his heart left him curled over his knees, tears cascading down his cheeks, but the moisture did little to put out the fire inside him. Crying never helped. The tears only froze on his face, as they always did on this day, this one day when he would allow himself to remember. Things hurt more this year, though, and he knew why that was. He was thinking of the old days more often now, reliving every moment to tell his story. The pain was closer than before because he was thinking about it, experiencing it all over again.

He pulled his jacket closer and looked up at the mountain, his eyes a dull blue, a sharp contrast against the white snow. He was at that point where everywhere he looked, he was reminded of a certain purple haired woman. He figured long ago that he would never be able to forget her and he was right.

He would see her forever in his mind. He would see her smirk at him across the bar. He would forever watch as her perfect, nimble fingers unzipped her dress and then let it fall on the rooftop. He would always see that devilish grin as she tortured him at his mother's dinner. He would never forget the look on her face when she admitted that she was pregnant or the one where she slapped him. She was the image that would always be tattooed on his brain.

With sights came sounds and he knew that he would always remember her laugh and the way her voice bubbled as she teased him. Even now, years later, he could hear her quick, flirtatious retorts and the breathy, husky moans. He could always hear the anger in her voice when he fell asleep. It was his punishment for his cowardice. Then, there was always that song she hummed when she thought she was alone. He would forever listen to it in his head, like a CD player stuck on repeat.

And he would always feel her body close to his as they danced. He remembered every detail, the way she melted into his body as if she belonged there. He remembered feeling her lips on his for the first time and the way he chased that feeling to that deserted rooftop. He remembered making love to her for the first time and all the other times after that. He would always remember.

More tears fell from his cheeks as he looked up at the sky and said a silent plea, "Help me."

And suddenly, mysteriously, like always, he was reminded why he was banished to this mountain. Once again, he remembered what he was protecting and that hope welled up inside his chest once more.

AN: So there's a little bit of James, Meowth, and Teddy for you. Kind of a sad chapter. I just want to take them all and hug them. Let me know what you guys think! Jack's chapter is coming up next! I really just wanna hug the guy.

Songs that inspired this chapter:
- The Longest Night by Howie Day. Great song. One of my faves.
- Ocean Wide by The Afters. Another good one.
- I'll Try by Jesse McCartney. It's from Peter Pan 2 and it's actually quite sweet. It inspired Teddy's scene in this chapter.
- Forever by Vertical Horizon. One of my faves, highly recommended. Every time I hear it, I think Jack and Miya. There's no way that he'd ever forget the woman. It's such a heartbreaking song.
- Miracle by Vertical Horizon. Another really good one because everybody in this chapter could definately use a miracle, particularly Motorcycle. The dude has issues.