Note: This is probably the quietest chapter of this story. Not all of the wind down chapters are this mellow-ish, but yeah, keep that in mind. Hope you enjoy the continued TR focus.

62: James vs. Jonathan

That day, James had a strong feeling he might see his son for some reason. The boy was no longer in Viridian, that was the last he'd heard. While trying to find somewhere closer to their headquarters that could have him, Cassidy had to rely on a state facility of some sort. It didn't have to be this particular facility, but that was a possibility. If it was, James might be able to get a peek at how his son was doing and confirm Jonathan was completely fine before continuing with tasks as part of Team Rocket. The target pokemon didn't belong to the facility, so there should be no issue with acquiring it, if they could think of how to contain it.

So, seeing his son wasn't a shock so much as being recognized by him. The small child had stood as if expecting them, and identified James as his father. Jonathan then immediately treated the man as such, even if James had never acted as a parent. James wondered if he even had the right to be greeted so happily. He hadn't even seen the kid much previous to that.

The first time, Jonathan had been a newborn. James had wanted to see his son, at least in a way. Other feelings clouded while James looked back at the state of his own life. He was a poor vagrant. He'd joined Team Rocket, which certainly held the promise of a white tomorrow, but the present was less than bright. The current salary was a pittance. Though occasionally getting impressive bonuses as a valued agent, James had spent them all on unimportant things. He had no home outside Team Rocket's headquarters, previously having been sleeping on the street. James had been completely content with all of this before, but the idea of his son being born highlighted how he had absolutely nothing to offer.

Cassidy insisted she didn't need anything from him, but there was still the thought he should do something. He'd just taken her cue to do nothing, not even considering possible actions. And now that the baby was born, was there anything he could do to help? James felt completely incompetent just thinking about the question. What kind of a person was he, having a child as poor and otherwise lacking as he was, especially without wanting it? Did he even have a right to see it, having ever had that thought, let alone still having it?

He'd been invited, so he did so. Seeing the tiny creature incited a gasp. He'd been around babies before, but none this tiny. The baby boy was even smaller than some of the unevolved pokemon that had just been brought in that James had been allowed to help initiate. "Do you want to hold him?" Cassidy asked. James made a quiet sound of agreement before she handed it over to him. James's eyes teared up as he observed his son, the baby moving its arms, seeming to look around without really focusing on anything. Jonathan opened his mouth to yawn, and James had the thought he really was cute, before the baby opened its mouth again, this time to cry.

It continued, soon shrieking. James was of course the source of the discontent, or maybe just wanting to be returned to its mother. Either way, baby Jonathan no longer wanted to be held by a strange man. James had a brief urge to return it to its pokeball to calm it down as he'd done with the pokemon he'd been allowed to help care for, before realizing that couldn't apply here. Humans weren't compatible with such technology, and this tiny, fragile baby was much more vulnerable than a pokemon. "Here... He wants you, right?" James fretted as he made his way across the room. As he moved, there was also the terrifying thought that he'd hurt, would hurt, the frail child.

"Just give him!" Cassidy snapped. James was sure to be careful as he handed the baby back. He felt some relief as it was finally out of his hands, but not enough to really feel better. He'd obviously upset both mother and child. He wasn't just unhelpful, but actively harmful. Maybe he could do better next time?

Or was it alright for him to not be involved? Cassidy had outright said his help wasn't needed. He wanted to believe that, but the notion didn't sit right with him, for multiple reasons. Even so, James had no idea what to do. As incompetent as he was, he might hurt the baby again, the same or even worse. Even so, James had the idea to try and see his son on several occasions, and worked up the nerve to ask, but it turned out Cassidy kept him elsewhere. Of course, the secret headquarters was where they were given room and board when not on missions was no place for children. When he asked about the baby, it wasn't there. That gave him an excuse not to see it, inciting both relief and guilt at the same time.

But one day he'd heard that Cassidy had the kid at base, then confronted her about the possibility upon seeing her in the hall. "His hired caretakers had something to do, and I had something I couldn't leave unattended here," she crossly defended the boy's presence.

"May I see him?"

Cassidy took him to where the kid was without delay. Jonathan sat with her field partner at a table in an otherwise empty meeting room, flipping through a magazine and pointing to things while speaking to the other man. The two of them became silent and looked warily toward James as he entered. James himself had been shocked at the kid's appearance. Of course, it had been some time, so the child was no longer a baby. Jonathan was still very small, but had begun speaking and moving around on his own. Logically knowing his son would be older was one thing, but actually seeing the rapidly growing person was another. James couldn't say anything, especially in the face of the child's wariness at his presence.

"Jonathan," Cassidy began, leaning down to eye level with the boy. "This is your dad."

Jonathan's eyes went wide in response, looking at James with a pointed confusion. What other reaction could there have been? Given the realities of James's involvement, the statement had to be very confusing to a child that young, or even one that was older.

"Maybe you could spend some time with him before we take him back," Cassidy suggested.

Could he? "Well, maybe," James said. There wasn't anything else to do for the rest of that day. He might run into Jessie, but then he'd be able to clearly express the situation to her where he'd failed before, choking up as Jessie didn't want to believe his failures. Thinking maybe he could make the first step toward real interaction with his son, James took a step forward, holding out his hand to the boy.

Jonathan recoiled, tears entering his eyes as he pushed back against the chair. He clenched his little fists before leaning forward, looking up warily at James before turning to the other adults questioningly.

"Don't be like that," Cassidy chided, and Jonathan just tensed his little arms in response, backing away further against his chair. "Just go," his mother ordered.

"No." James dropped his hand, backing away himself. He wasn't about to force this kid to do anything. Where James was concerned, Jonathan would be free from any kind of parental mandates. James never wanted to harm him. "It's fine."

There was an uncomfortable silence afterward, the child still not seeming to relax at all. Cassidy's field partner, Butch, eventually spoke up. "I'll just take him back now if you want. They should be done by now."

Cassidy nodded. The other man reached for Jonathan, who held up his arms in response, this time without any upset at all, allowing himself to be picked up and carried out calmly without any fuss at all. That left Cassidy and James alone. "Where is he staying?" James asked.

"I managed to get a place for him in Viridian, so I can seen him more often. It's with Butch's aunt and uncle," Cassidy explained.

"Why is he staying with that guy's family?" James asked.

"I don't have any family that would be interested in him at all," Cassidy said. "Do you?"

The question appeared to be genuine. That forced James to seriously consider things, dredging up all kinds of unpleasant memories. Yes, he'd been told it was important to have children in general, and for that to be early into adulthood. James had ended up a father by the seemingly too young age of twenty. But just having one wasn't enough, of course. It had to be within the confines of marriage. Who the parents were was also very important. There was no way James's parents would have any love for the illegitimate child of two criminals.

The idea of how they might reject the tiny, sensitive kid that had just left the room was painful for James even to think about. The best he could hope was that they'd ignore the kid's existence. If they ever knew, they probably would, not wanting the continued failures of James's life to embarrass them more. How awful was it that James had allowed this kind of possibility? In any case, he'd never bring the fact to their attention and give them the opportunity to hurt this boy.

"No," James finally replied. "I have no reliable family either." Was there someone else to take care of this kid? That was fortunate.

Cassidy just shrugged in response. "It's difficult for both of us then," she said. "I pay for his current caretakers, you know. They don't just have him there out of the goodness of their heart. They're having their own problems, too. I trust them enough for now, but I don't know how much longer they can keep up."

Oh. After a momentary relief, James felt some wariness that this arrangement may not be indefinite. He saw signs of that the third time he'd seen his son.

Outside the arena where he'd taken Koffing to train, James caught sight of Cassidy's partner. The other man seemed annoyed, and James held out his pokeball and asked, "Were you thinking you wanted a rematch from the other day?"

"Na," Butch declined easily. "We're too busy with important assignments to worry about some freak loss. Besides, right now I'm actually on my way to visit your kid."

James forgot about everything he'd been thinking about before then, standing up straighter and turning serious. "May I come along?"

Butch appeared to stifle a laugh. "I'm not the one that would throw you out," he said.

James followed him silently, ending up in a poorer part of the city. The house they went into was small, the outside dirty. Even so, there didn't appear to be anything particularly dangerous about it. Inside, there was an older man that started making small talk with Butch right away. James remained silent, looking around at the area as they spoke. It was overall clean, if shabby.

Eventually, Cassidy came in behind them. She stared at James, then nodded at him, leading him to a different room in back. Jonathan was there, playing with some blocks before greeting his mother with a hug. Embarrassingly enough, Cassidy had to introduce James to his son yet again. Though James stayed, Jonathan remained quiet most of the visit, only steeling glances toward his father while briefly interacting with everyone else there. James tried to speak to him, but Jonathan just looked down, remaining silent. Though not crying like before, the little boy still seemed to want that distance, and James respected that.

Near the end of the visit, the older man had been grabbing his chest complaining, his wife along with Butch and Cassidy going to check on him. The ailing man insisted he was fine, and stood up, rebuking anyone that even implied otherwise with their questions. He was quieter than before, an overall sickly look in his eyes. After noting these people being somewhat short yet still overall friendly and attentive to his son, James was somehow disturbed again.

Looking back, it became obvious that the boy's security was fleeting. Over the years, asking about the status over several occasions, the answer would be that Jonathan was at a completely different place than before. Perhaps the situation should have been monitored much more closely long before James had chosen to intervene.

But now he actually had, and was leading his now eight-year-old son back to the small apartment he'd rented for them. The boy eventually stopped crying, and now didn't make any noise at all, just following where James led. The kid didn't try to talk or otherwise acknowledge his father. There was a definite grudge that went along with the previously expressed hatred. James accepted that, knowing it was natural and justified, and was still willing to do what was necessary.

The place he'd found for them was in an older building in an area in the eastern part of Saffron, far from Viridian where James would certainly be recognized for his continued role in Team Rocket. The apartment was relatively expensive compared to other smaller places. James wasn't about to give up his pokemon, so he'd had to get a place appropriate for them to stay as well. James's large, fully evolved pokemon wouldn't be allowed out in the actual tiny one room apartment, but there was space enough outside for them, and he was allowed to leave them out unattended during daylight hours if necessary. Unlike the other budget apartments, the pokemon were actually allowed. Everyone in the building had some, many of them former traveling trainers, retired or would-be professional battlers.

James was the only parent. He'd almost been rejected when the manager had found that out. James had got him to eventually relent, saying Jonathan was somewhat older, presumably mature enough to be quiet and respect his neighbors. Thankfully, the kid had completely calmed upon arrival, acting as the sort of docile child James had described, despite not really knowing if the description was accurate. Jonathan briefly introduced himself as James spoke to the other occupants, then wandered farther back as James brought out his pokemon, introducing them as the other tenants happily introduced their own. One man had a muk, which stunk, but he assured would be no trouble. Another had a pair of parasect, which hung out by the trees during the day, he informed, though they'd go in the shade in front of the building if it were hot. There was also a trainer who described himself as a former bug catcher, having an impressive scyther along with several of every pokemon in the weedle line. The beedrill looked particularly tough, even while just hanging off the outside of the building. The trainer informed that was just its spot when they weren't training or playing.

It was a fun group, from what James could see. Keeping up with training might be easy here. There were six units in the building, but the other occupants weren't there even in that late afternoon. The others informed that those two were fairly busy, one being a construction worker with a relatively active snorlax, and the last a pokemon breeder with a variety of pokemon at any one time. James looked forward to meeting them as well. "Do you wonder what kind of pokemon she has? Isn't it fun? Do you enjoy seeing all of the impressive pokemon?" James turned to Jonathan and asked an enthusiastic set of questions during their conversation. The boy just silently looked away in response.

They eventually went into their new apartment home. "We can pick up some other things later," James said. "I wasn't able to get everything yet, but there are futon in the closet." James opened it up and took one out. Jonathan followed the example and spread his own on the ground without asking for help before going into the bathroom. After freshening up, instead of speaking to James or even asking for anything else, Jonathan crawled right into the futon. James tensed up, seeing his son appeared to be asleep already. He'd wanted to talk more. Well, it had been quite the day, and especially being locked out of his foster home at times, how much rest the kid had gotten beforehand wasn't clear.

James imagined the four-poster bed he'd slept in from his childhood. The bedroom itself had been even larger than this apartment as a whole. At Jonathan's age, he'd slept there with ease, never worrying about anything like being locked out and being on the cold cement outside. Though that was something that James had experienced when older, as a little boy he'd always been given the best of care. The same hadn't been done for Jonathan, who had likely come along with the person he hated just for the promise of the basics. Something like the cheap futon within the four walls of the tiny apartment away from his bullies probably seemed like complete luxury to this kid, even considering the other company.

James bit his lip, holding back any tears that might disturb the sleeping kid. Of course, he'd wanted to just give the support, and already decided it didn't matter how Jonathan felt. This was all fine. James would just continue with what he needed to do.

A day later, James got his son enrolled in the local school. James didn't know much about the compulsory education system for young children. He had no personal experience, since his parents had insisted that he be tutored at home by who they considered qualified. People assumed he did, and James tried to play along and not ask questions that seemed too strange. He picked up that Jonathan may have trouble as a transfer student. The lessons were standardized throughout Kanto, but different schools could be ahead or behind.

After taking Jonathan to school the day he'd start, James ran some other necessary errands before he went back to their current home, feeding and exercising his pokemon before later picking his son up. "Are you enjoying your new school?" he asked, following behind Jonathan. "There's a park right by us! Would you like to play there? Oh, and it allows pokemon battles! That will certainly be exciting, don't you think? Why don't we go there together before we go back and make dinner?"

"I can walk back myself," Jonathan eventually spoke without turning around. Maybe he could. The school was just two blocks down, and it was typical for children to walk home by themselves, so the two of them had gotten stares when James had met him. Jonathan had been in danger because of specific circumstances in Viridian, but now those circumstances didn't apply, since no one knew them here. James stopped before the apartment building, watching as his son ran inside before going out to go grocery shopping.

Getting back, Jonathan could be seen where their futon had been, the bedding put away in the closet and a foldable low table now set out. He had spread schoolbooks and other schoolwork all across the surface, other items piled next to it. "Is there something you need help with?" James asked. His son only momentarily looked up before turning his attention back to his work. As James finished making the subpar meal, his son accepted it and ate it, but still didn't speak. James noted their neighbors talking to a woman outside and went to join in, finding out she was the pokemon breeder he'd heard about. Meeting her and having a pokemon battle against her was fun. By the time he was done, it was dark. Back upstairs, Jonathan had folded up the table, schoolwork also put away. He had pulled out his futon, and was laying inside it, apparently asleep.

The next day, James met the snorlax trainer. As the two of them were engaged in an animated conversation about the pokemon species he'd never seen up close, Jonathan returned from school. "Jonathan, I'm going to battle him, with his snorlax! It's an amazing, gigantic, rare pokemon! Do you want to see?" James asked, unable to hold back his excitement. Jonathan just sped past them without a greeting, stomping his feet loudly as he ran up the stairs.

"You need to check on him?" the snorlax trainer asked.

James did so, but again found his son unresponsive, setting up his schoolwork and not even interacting when James had entered. So that was how it was going to be. Understandably, Jonathan didn't want to interact with the neglectful father that had abandoned him and said cruel things while he'd assaulted. The child had the right to want that, and those wishes ought to be respected. James vowed to give his own son the space he'd desperately wanted when he'd been younger. He'd expect absolutely nothing from this boy.

As the days went on, James tried to make that clear. "It's a nice day out," he commented to Jonathan, who leaned over his books. "Wouldn't you like to go outside? I don't expect you to dedicate all your free time to studying."

Jonathan did briefly go to the window, watching the bug catcher with some unknown trainers, and then sat back down again without comment, continuing to study. Well, James had tried.

Now that they were established, as a father and provider, James himself couldn't just sit around and lull all day. He had some savings, but that would run out eventually. He had to get a job, make sure he'd have incoming funds for whatever amount of time he'd be taking care of this kid.

Finding a job turned out to be more difficult than expected. Here, no one knew James, the wanted Team Rocket member, but they didn't really know him at all, really. That left them hesitant to hire him, especially as he had no references to give him, also being wishy-washy about his former employment. "Just some things, here and there," he badly explained to prospective employers who asked.

The snorlax trainer took a liking to him, perhaps since James beat him sometimes when they trained, though most of the time Snorlax won against either of James's pokemon. The trainer hired James as a construction worker. The physical labor was something doable, though it was dull, neither glamorous nor enjoyable. Even so, James couldn't refuse with no other options.

The work was exhausting. Coming home after an early finish one day, he'd heard the house phone and picked it up without thinking. It had been for him for once, or at least someone he knew. Cassidy wanted to talk to Jonathan, who was at school. James briefly spoke to her anyway, finding out what she'd been up to, and why neither of them would likely hear from her for a while.

As he hung up the phone, James went outside, sighing in his melancholy. Not even the sight of the pokemon, his own as well as the resident's interesting ones, cheered him up. He'd like to be on a trip with Jessie to catch the world's more elusive pokemon himself. How exciting that sounded. Instead, Cassidy was getting to go, while James was trapped tending to the child Cassidy had promised to take care of.

A feeling of resentment overtook him as he thought of the specifics of the situation. This really was her fault. Even beyond her failures as a parent and everything she'd allowed to occur, James held additional animosity toward her. The two of them had seemed to have a connection before James had realized everything between them was completely disconnected. They'd worked well together when he'd first joined Team Rocket, and even briefly got along personally, commiserating on their mutual aversions. Though that should have meant she'd understand why they'd always have a distance from each other, she'd thought that commonality was the perfect reason for them to try those things together, rather than with anyone else. She goaded him to do things with her, sweetly promising to lead him through anything he was apprehensive about and not judge him.

James hadn't been completely convinced, still hesitant and anxious, but he'd gone through with it anyway. He'd even imagined himself a mature adult with that rash decision. Because he hadn't abstained, he now had a son. Maybe he couldn't place the responsibility completely on her, since he had agreed to it. But still, it had never been his idea. At that point in time, he begrudged her strongly, having trouble controlling his emotions as he sat alone.

A loud thud interrupted James's loathsome rumination. He stood up and looked inside, realizing it was his son returning home, running quickly past James and upstairs as the boy always did when returning home and seeing his father outside. Hanging from the side of the building, the neighbor's beedrill flapped its wings, the two kakuna opening their eyes, startled at the sound before returning to their nap. The muk briefly floated its head up from its spot waiting for its trainer at the end of the hall.

James went upstairs. Inside their small apartment, his son was choosing to dedicate himself to his studies again, taking out all of his various books and papers. Staring at the kid closely, James noted some of his mother's sharper features combined with James's own. He had to look to find that slight resemblance to Cassidy, since of course, Jonathan most closely resembled James himself. This really was his son. Logically, he'd always known that, but now, pulled out of his life as a wandering rogue to something much more mundane, the idea seemed real in a different way.

How unfortunate their relation was for the both of them.

Jonathan eventually noticed he was being watched, focusing back at James, still without the two of them exchanging a word. James broke their staring contest, going back downstairs to care for his pokemon. Few would be sympathetic about James's feelings toward the boy's burdened mother, but to hold a grudge against his child James recognized as absolutely unreasonable within himself. Even if Jonathan had no appreciation for the sacrifices his father had made, there were reasons for that. The kid wouldn't even have a simple conversation, rarely even spoke a word to James at all, denying any kind of familial closeness, but James had already accepted that was the case. He just needed to follow through with his responsibilities as a father, providing absolutely everything that was needed. The kid's existence was at least partially his fault, so he'd deal with the consequences.

Continuing his tasks to do so was a drudgery. The thought that this would all eventually come to an end fueled him, though some days were more difficult than others. His job in construction had erratic hours. Sometimes he'd only worked a few hours, but other times it would go on and on from early in the day until late. One day in particular, he came home later than Jonathan, sitting to the side to rest. There were other things to do that day, but the work had made him too exhausted to do all of it.

"Jonathan," James began. The boy looked up from the work silently, at least acknowledging visually that James had spoken. James could make some kind of meal from the canned food and leftovers, but Jonathan ought to help out as well. "You go out and let the pokemon exercise today." James motioned toward the counter, where he'd placed his two pokeballs upon returning. The poor pokemon had been in their pokeballs all day, and only out briefly other recent days. "Feed them just a bit, too."

Jonathan looked up at the pokeballs, then back at his father. "No," he said before going back to reading his books.

James stood up with a sudden burst of energy fueled by a single word from a disobedient child. How much had this boy been asked for? Not much at all, not any kind of affection a child might normally have for their parent, not even a simple greeting as James came home. James did most of the work with keeping up the household after doing all the work to support it. For both, this kid seemed to have neither awareness nor appreciation. What was the problem with completing this one simple task?

With a parent that had given up so much while providing so many freedoms, this brat ought to be more appreciative. This was a simple job that should be easily completed. James grabbed the child's arm, forcefully pulling Jonathan to his feet. "You'll do as I say," he declared to the kid that had started to refuse. Even if having to direct every step, James was determined to have Jonathan complete the task.

That determination broke in an instant as he heard the child start to cry. Jonathan hadn't done so since they'd moved there, instead remaining sullen and detached, but broke into sobs. James let go of his son's arm, realizing how awful he'd seemed in that instant, likely bringing back memories of the traumatic kidnapping. Now free, the little boy fell to the floor, continuing to sob. "I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm scared," Jonathan kept repeating as tears fell down his face, making only a small attempt to bring himself to his feet before cries overtook him again.

James took a slow breath, calming himself from the grave mistake of momentary anger that caused him to make his son cry yet again. Of course the kid was scared. He had no one to count on other than his criminal father, after all. Asking for more would be selfish, especially after being so neglectful and saying so many cruel things. Realizing the error in asking his son for anything, no matter how small, James went to the door on his own, ready to complete the task himself. Even if it was just a brief chore, James vowed not to ask for anything anymore. A parent that had been so lacking had no right to expect anything from their child. James wouldn't speak to the kid, wouldn't look at him, wouldn't touch him perchance to break him. There was no reason to make those kinds of mistakes any more.

"I'm scared of pokemon."

Hearing that declaration, James turned around, meeting the boy's eyes. Jonathan had stood, calmed somewhat, though there were tears on his face as his chest shook with the remnants of his cries. Was what had been said why he had refused? Now that James had thought about it, Jonathan hadn't refused before. He'd not only completed requested tasks, but tried to do them all the time, as he now washed the dishes every night without being asked. The kid had done his best to get along, in that way at least. Was some kind of strong fear why he had refused that particular task?

"Even my pokemon?" James asked. Jonathan's mouth went agape before he looked back down, confirming the suspicion. The revelation shocked James, but suddenly there was much that made sense, including Jonathan running as fast as he could past the numerous pokemon that surrounded their apartment building upon returning home. The fact that James had completely misunderstood this boy was now apparent. Just then of course, but maybe even more often. Was James still giving his son far less than needed, even with all that had been given already? The answer seemed to be yes, the idea of continued extreme incompetence causing an ache in James's chest.

Pushing past that pain, even as it was amplified by the suspicion success was impossible, James made the decision to try to give even more. He approached Jonathan, gently putting a hand on his kid's shoulder. As Jonathan looked up, James spoke. "You don't need to be afraid of them," he said firmly. Jonathan put his arms up close to his chest as he looked down, not seeming to believe that declaration. "Come with me," James said, walking toward the door. "I won't make you do anything. Just follow me. It'll be alright."

Carrying his pokeballs and a small amount of pokemon food, James went into the area next to the building allotted for them to train and rest their pokemon. Being later in the day, it was now empty. Jonathan stood close by James as he threw out both pokeballs. Jonathan jumped as the pokemon appeared, then ran behind James as the pokeballs hopped back to James's hand like normal. That poor kid. Was something this commonplace really so frightening to him? James turned around, leaning down to address Jonathan better to comfort him. "See? They won't hurt you," he said.

Jonathan glanced around warily, first gazing toward Victreebel stretching out its leaves in the taller grass and then up at Weezing, who floated down toward them curiously. The boy's shoulders went up as he let out a whimper. "They're monsters," he said.

"Oh," James exclaimed, not having thought of his pokemon friends as such after all. Of course, they actually were monsters, or at least that was the term pokemon were historically called before 'pokemon', a term itself encapsulating the word 'monster', became more common. Despite any word used to describe them, pokemon were incredibly powerful creatures different from any other life on Earth. Their abilities were enough for anyone who didn't know much about them to fear them. "They may be monsters, but they wouldn't harm anyone," James assured.

"They killed him," Jonathan said, his voice breaking.

"They didn't-" James stopped himself, all at once recalling the rocket agent that had been killed by the charizard. "Right," James said calmly. There was that. "Were you close to him?" James asked. Jonathan nodded. The memory of that man carrying the younger Jonathan with ease came to mind. Unlike when the rest of Team Rocket talked about their closeness to that person, this kid was probably telling the truth. "I'm sorry that happened," James said. His son didn't appear any happier after receiving the condolences, though his shoulders dropped slightly. "It's true..." James admitted. "Pokemon are much stronger than us as humans. Their power can be deadly, just like then. Accidents can happen. We have to be careful. But they're careful too. We can trust them. Or at least, I trust these two."

James stood up, tossing one pellet of pokemon food up, which Weezing easily moved to grab. Jonathan shuddered, but didn't run. James handed the kid the bag of food. "Do you want to try?" he asked.

Jonathan tentatively took it, throwing another pellet, this time farther away. Weezing moved to catch it. Jonathan exchanged glances with James, who nodded. The kid tossed another pellet, this time closer. As the pokemon floated back nearby to eat, the boy then approached it, staying a few feet away as he observed one face of the poison type pokemon before glancing to the other. "Which is it looking from?" he asked.

James laughed at the question, the first real inquiry he'd had from this kid since moving here. "I imagine Weezing can look from both faces, giving it an advantage."

"Weezing!" Weezing called out in apparent agreement.

Jonathan looked in one set of eyes before doing the same in the other. He smiled back at James in amusement. The momentary ease was replaced by anxiety as leaves rustled, their neighbor's two parasect crawling from behind the trees. Jonathan stepped back closer to James, frowning though he still didn't run away. As the bug type pokemon rested in a different area, Jonathan looked up. "Are those their eyes? Can they see?" he asked, noting the otherwise featureless bulbs under the large mushroom.

"I'm sure they can, since they do well enough in battles," James said.

Jonathan watched the two bug type pokemon closely before it became obvious they were just looking for another place to relax and wait for their trainer. He then turned to Victreebel, observing the pokemon cautiously. Victreebel stood before it approached Jonathan, waving its leaves in the air as it called out in a shriek. "Victreebel, stop!" James said as he saw his son fall, trembling in fright. James then patted Jonathan on the shoulder, helping the boy to his feet. "Victreebel just saw you had the food," he explained. "I'll feed it instead, if you'd like."

Jonathan looked at the bag still gripped tightly in his hand, then back at the pokemon that towered over him. He approached it, taking some food out before he reached up and dropped it in the pokemon's large mouth before running back to James. Victreebel called out in a shriek in response. Jonathan trembled and backed away.

"It's happy," James explained with a grin. His pokemon's emotions were more difficult to discern since its final evolution, but he still knew. "I'm sure it appreciates you sharing." Jonathan's shoulders went back up, seeming hesitant as he kept his eyes on the large pokemon. James took the food and gave his pokemon the rest of its appropriate portion. "It's alright," he assured his son as his pokemon moved its body awkwardly to chew on the food. "I'll do this myself. You don't have to force yourself." James went over to Weezing, giving his other pokemon more food. He peered back at his son, who still stood at a distance. "Maybe you should spend more time around the pokemon here, so you can get more comfortable."

"Because you want me to be a pokemon trainer?" Jonathan asked.

"No," James said firmly. "There's nothing I want from you." After James spoke, Jonathan again hunched forward. Tears entered the kid's eyes, though he held back from any actual outbursts this time. The reaction to James's liberating statement was baffling. Then again, maybe this kid wanted different things from a parent than James himself had.

Just with these small interactions, James was starting to see just how different his son was from him. Jonathan had different challenges, different wants, and of course, different parents with completely different failures. Truly understanding him might take time. Maybe James hadn't really been showing the true patience it would take to do so, and just been presuming what he wanted based on his own experience, then complicating things further from there.

"I mean," James continued, trying to clarify things. "You should get comfortable around pokemon, since pokemon are the future. They're not going away, so fearing them would be a detriment. Having pokemon certainly is beneficial, but I won't dictate your path. You can be a pokemon trainer, or not. It's up to you. You still have time to decide, and you can later decide otherwise."

Though seeming confused, Jonathan nodded, shyly looking away.

"Though, if you do want to be a trainer, I'll be sure to make that happen," James promised. He was fairly sure he could. Team Rocket's acquisitions had been increasing steadily in the recent year.

Contrary to the previous aversion, Jonathan's face broke into a smile. Had he wanted to be a trainer? The reaction didn't match his previous declarations. Instead of asking questions, James just decided to feel some relief that his son seemed happier. Jonathan even sat with James as he directed the pokemon in various exercises. As the parasect trainer came home, the kid walked farther away, but still watched as James's victreebel engaged in a simple battle with one at both trainers' directions. As their neighbor returned his pokemon and went inside, James felt his fatigue return and decided they ought to do the same. He brought his own pokemon back into their pokeballs before heading to the door, Jonathan next to him.

Before they could ascend the stairs, a loud, deep sound rang out, a large shape suddenly appearing in front of them in the dim lighting. James cried out in fright, grabbing onto his more vulnerable son in a protective embrace. The shape moved more, distorting before it revealed itself as the neighbor's muk, which soon retreated. James sighed in relief.

Checking on Jonathan, the boy's face was tearful yet again. Well, the sudden appearance of that pokemon had been startling even to James himself. "It's alright. It likely just hoped we were its trainer," James assured.

Jonathan hugged James tighter, still not speaking. Yet again, tears fell from the boy's eyes, but different from before. Jonathan buried his face against James's shirt as he started to cry.

This had nothing to do with any of the pokemon. This was the first time James had hugged his son. He'd tried to avoid touching the kid at all, or even looking his way much of the time, James realized. That combined with things James had actually said sent a clear message that perhaps Jonathan was hoping was wrong. Could James continue to show a different reality? Maybe Jonathan had actually wanted this closeness. Maybe James really had too.

James hugged Jonathan a while longer, becoming tearful himself, then broke away, patting the boy's shoulders, then staring at the arm that had been injured, thoughts moving back to that day. He couldn't see anything now, since it was covered by a sleeve, but there was a scar. James didn't really want to comment on it, but Jonathan had noticed where his father's attention had gone, and gave an expectant look that seemed to want something to be said.

"What happened to you..." James began, starting to shake himself as he thought of it. He still pushed himself to continue, as unpleasant as the memory and speaking of it was. "What happened to you was so cruel," he said, holding back from selfishly crying about it himself. Even though he'd felt terrible watching it and being helpless, Jonathan had to have felt exponentially worse. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." James stammered, unable to formulate the reason why he was so sorry. He might spotlight Pikachu's trainer as the villain he'd been acting as, focus on demonizing him to distract from how awful James himself had been, but that wouldn't be right. After all, James was the one that had chosen to gleefully follow the path of evil while allowing his enemy to know he had an isolated, vulnerable child. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop it," James managed to say.

There should be more that he was sorry for as well, including but not limited to the referenced incident, but that was all James could manage to express at the moment. Forcing himself to meet Jonathan's eyes, he could see the boy was thoughtful, his expression having lightened, his posture more relaxed. Overall, his son was calm, content even. Even if more might be said later, maybe those words were enough for the moment. James forced a smile. "Let's get our own meal ready, hm?" he said. Jonathan nodded as they went back to their apartment.

After finally being able to have a conversation with his son, James started to wonder if the detached, indifferent attitude he'd disliked to see from Jonathan had only been a mirror of what James had shown his kid from the start. Maybe now that could change, at least with James himself. He started to make an effort to speak to the kid, even if Jonathan didn't respond at all. James's son eventually did start to interact, first with just eye contact and a smile, but eventually with a word here and there. Maybe Jonathan wasn't standoffish, but rather shy and anxious, and needed some extended patience.

Eventually, Jonathan did start to greet him, even come to see the pokemon train. At first it was for a few minutes as he'd walked home, then entire battles. The kid even started to have brief conversations with the other residents. When he wouldn't talk, James made an effort to walk over and talk for him, to him. Jonathan's tension and what James had interpreted as animosity slowly started to disappear. James's son had to know he belonged here. This was his home. He was wanted, both at this place, and in general.

Though interacting more with James and others, Jonathan still chose to spend much time by himself, studying. Though finding the preference odd, James wasn't ever going to rebuke him for it. Maybe James's parents would approve of a child who could easily dedicate himself to learning, having always been annoyed by how James couldn't focus, his attention constantly meandering off. That thought was easily dismissed. Those two would chide Jonathan for being exceptionally quiet, therefore ill-mannered, of course. There were various other things they could find fault with even if James's son were actually perfect. Their opinions didn't matter. James himself mattered, in how he accepted and remained patient with his own son's preferences and challenges.

Some direction may be needed as well. One day, James decided to address a topic perhaps a parent should. "You're certainly always working hard. How are your grades?" he asked, hoping it wouldn't add too much unneeded pressure.

"I caught up with everyone," Jonathan explained. "So now they're good."

Had that been why he'd been working so hard? James looked at the items on the table, realizing it wasn't just school work. There were also several library books. He looked at the title of one, a guide for new pokemon trainers. "Oh, you're reading about this kind of thing now?"

"Yeah... I'm just curious."

James grinned as he put the book back on the surface. "Be curious about whatever you'd like," he said with a smile. He then noticed the other title, a manga about a costumed hero with various talking pokemon sidekicks. "And what's this? You like these kinds of stories?" he asked with some amusement.

"Yeah," Jonathan said, his face flushing as he grabbed the book back. "I've been reading that series a long time."

James chuckled. "I hope you're not too disappointed now that you've been around more real pokemon. None of them talk, you realize."

"What about that meowth?" Jonathan asked.

"Oh, you remember it?" James said. "Yes, Meowth is a special exception, quite an impressive pokemon."

"How does it talk?" Jonathan asked. "Can I learn to talk like a pokemon, too?"

James recounted some of Meowth's answers to those questions, which were followed by various others. James then began to ask about Jonathan's own experiences, both with pokemon and in his new school. They continued with their conversation, the longest they'd ever had. Jonathan was absorbed in the topics, seemingly ecstatic to get this much attention from his father.

Later, on a particular Sunday, Jonathan followed James to the door, staring at him silently. "Did you want to come along?" James asked, guessing the reason. Jonathan silently nodded. "Of course you can. It's alright to ask me anytime," James assured, quite pleased at the kid wanting his company.

Since they both had nowhere else to be, they went to the local park first, James standing up cheering Jonathan on as he climbed on the playground equipment, then pushing him on the swings. They then took their time in the grocery store, James asking if his son might like any sweet treat they ran across. After checking out, James noted Jonathan staring at the gacha machines in front, acting like he wasn't once James approached.

"Did you want to try one?" James asked. Jonathan glanced away before back at a particular machine which had toys from the manga he'd been reading the other day. "Alright..." James grinned, taking out a coin. "Which one would you like?"

Jonathan hesitated before he pointed at the plastic pikachu in the picture. "Pikaly!" he labeled the character.

James took out the appropriate coin, turning it before the pokeball-like container came out. Opening it up, his mouth fell open in disappointment as he saw it was some kind of plastic machine instead. Looking at Jonathan, the kid was still calm, and not as much disappointment as James himself, but even so, this wasn't the desired toy, was it? James got out his wallet, determined to acquire it. There were only six possible toys, so he had to get one sooner or later.

Seven tries later, there was still no success, and he had no more of the appropriate change. "It can't be.. Can't I even get one pikachu?" James fretted, hands to his head in his frustration.

Feeling a tug on his shirt, he looked down at Jonathan, who was smiling. "It's okay, Dad," he assured. "I like Bulbasord too. And I have three!" He held up the three mechanically stylized bulbasaur toys they'd acquired.

When they got home, James helped arrange the array of new toys on the windowsill. His parents never would have let him have such trash. Though, James realized, they had given him a lot. Jonathan was lacking in comparison. "I know it's your birthday next week," James said. Jonathan's eyebrows raised, his mouth opened, apparently astonished James might remember. "Maybe we could go back and get a cake. And then try for that pikachu... Just one more time, perhaps." Another turn of the gacha wasn't much for a day that was often much celebrated. But James didn't really have much to offer, did he?

In lieu of being disappointed, Jonathan hugged James tightly as if something truly wonderful had been suggested. This time, it was James's turn to be surprised. Of course, he hugged his son back, taking in the reality of the affection given in the setting of their modest home. They really had everything here, didn't they? Food, shelter, and clothing. And now, maybe it was possible that James was going to be able to give something else that was much needed, something beyond freedom that James himself may have lacked growing up.

Doing so might be difficult. After all, the past neglect and hurtful words weren't erased. James's own distasteful thoughts had also been a struggle. Through and despite all of that, he was determined to continue to try. He was going to do his best for the son that he truly loved.

Next chapter: Cassidy vs. Mew