The Dark Side of Innocence

-PART THIRTEEN-

by Anna Sartin

.

"Perfect!" Jessie declared, quite pleased with herself. She held up a sketch she'd drawn, comparing it to the scene in front of her.

James had fallen asleep surrounded by the Bellsprout and Weepinbell he'd been getting acquainted with. A trio of Oddish and a Gloom had joined the throng since then and most of the creatures had fallen asleep along with him. It created a picturesque image that inspired Jessie to make use of the art supplies Tracey had left behind when his family had vacated the cabin. She'd seated herself some distance away, not wanting to alarm the creatures, and proceeded to commit this precious memory on paper.

"Yet another example of my artistic genius!" she informed the drawing in her hands. Her usual shameless self-praise aside, the drawing was amazingly accurate. She'd captured the angelic expression James always wore in slumber perfectly, and each of the Pokémon had been drawn in flawless detail. "I should have been an artist."

Now that her masterpiece was complete she decided to venture closer to the group so she could better compare the scene on paper to the one in real life. Slowly she inched her way closer and closer to the group. Suddenly the Pokémon all seemed to awaken at once and stared in her direction. She froze. They all stared at her for a few seconds before fleeing in various directions.

"What, do I SMELL or something?" Jessie yelled at the retreating creatures, offended. As if in response, the Gloom released a foul odor as it ran away, causing Jessie to cough and drop the sketch pad in her hands. "Same to you..." she muttered, before keeling over at the horrendous stench and passing out on top of her already passed-out partner.

Contrary to the serene expression he wore, James was having a nightmare...

.

He was in the kitchen with his partner lying sprawled across the floor sobbing in pain and shame. Naked... bloody... violated...

He remembered this... he had done this!

"No, please!" his mind begged. "Not here... Please don't bring me here again!"

"Why?" Jessie asked, demanding an explanation for this ultimate betrayal as she pulled herself into a half-sitting, half-laying position. Tears of pain and rage streamed down her cheeks.

"Not here!" his mind screamed. "Anywhere but here!"

He wanted to run but his feet wouldn't move. Her eyes stared into his, locking him in place. He couldn't stand seeing her like this.

"Jessie, no! It wasn't me!"

The desire to run suddenly left him. He wanted to go to her. He wanted to find something to cover her nakedness, to cover the wounds he'd inflicted on her. He wanted to hold her as she cried... He wanted to cry with her.

"Please, no..." he cried. "God, no... Jessie, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to do this!"

He fell to his knees screaming, the emotional trauma beyond endurance. He screamed like a madman, trying to block out the horrible scene...

.

James' eyes snapped open. He saw to his relief that he was still out in the middle of the meadow.

Jessie!

He found Jessie asleep- fully clothed, thankfully- using his stomach as a pillow.

Thank heavens... He took several deep breaths, letting his body relax and his heart rate return to normal. Just a dream... a nightmare. That's all it will ever be.

He looked around, wondering what had happened to all his grass-type companions. Where did all the Pokémon go?

His new friends seemed to have retired for the evening. Jessie moaned softly, and James could tell she was on the verge of waking up. He was thankful that she hadn't left him alone. Waking up alone in the middle of a field after the dream he'd just had would have been terrifying. He touched Jessie's face with one hand as he wiped his tears away with the other.

I couldn't bear it... he thought. I'd die if I... if I... Why won't the dreams STOP?

"James?" Jessie murmured sleepily, opening her eyes. James caressed her face lovingly.

"Enjoying your pillow?" he asked, smiling.

"I always do," she replied, returning his smile. "It's very comfortable." She hadn't planned on passing out on top of her partner, but this certainly wasn't the first time she'd found herself in this position. She and James both had a tendency to use various parts of the other's body to sleep on.

"Stay here then," James said softly, when Jessie moved to get up. She laid back down and James began stroking her crimson hair.

"You're going to mess up my hair," she protested half-heartedly, even as she closed her eyes and drank in the moment.

"I'll fix it for you," he assured her. "I did yesterday, didn't I?"

Yesterday she'd woken up to find James laying on (and snuggled into) her formidably long hair. Getting out of bed had been a challenge, and when she finally accomplished it and caught sight of the knotted, disheveled mess in the mirror she'd emitted a shriek so loud it had set off a chain of howling from several wild Pokémon nearby.

"You'd better be thankful I love you," she told him. "Otherwise I'd have knocked you senseless for the mess you made of my head yesterday."

"I didn't know I was doing it!" he replied defensively. "Besides... it was comfortable. Remember that time we fell asleep and Meowth got stuck in it?"

"How could I forget? Mondo had to use two bottles of shampoo to get all that goop off of us."

"At least you didn't lose your clothes!"

"That's because I wasn't stupid enough to leave them in the river."

James chuckled softly as he remembered that day. After an especially messy blast-off one evening involving a homemade glue-like substance they'd hoped to use on Pikachu, the trio of villains found themselves lost, exhausted and covered in the sticky goop they'd intended to use on their enemies. Unable to locate their hot-air balloon they'd decided to get some sleep and figure out what to do the next day. They were all filthy and feared the smell would attract predators, so they'd slept close together with Meowth comfortably situated between them. The next morning they woke up to find themselves stuck, both to the ground and each other. James managed to free himself first, leaving a bare spot on the ground where all the grass had stuck to his left side. He helped Jessie and Meowth up next, leaving two more bare patches in the grass, but trying to separate them proved to be a far more difficult task. The cat's fur and Jessie's hair simply refused to be parted. Both of them howled in pain when he tried to pull them apart, so they decided to try soaking in the river together.

James would never forget the sight of his grass-covered partner sitting fully-clothed in the water trying to extract the wailing, water-loathing Meowth from her head while he bathed properly a short distance away. He'd discarded his clothes in a shallow part of the water to soak, which he planned to scrub clean as soon as he was finished scrubbing himself. When he was finally satisfied that he'd eliminated all the grass, goop and grime from his skin (and grown bored of watching Jessie half-drown Meowth as she attempted to literally get him out of her hair) he swam over to where he'd left his clothes and found that they were gone. Presumably the entire pile had washed downstream unnoticed as he watched Jessie and Meowth's bizarre dilemma, but he never found them. Jessie and Meowth had both laughed at the sight of him running naked along the riverbank frantically searching for his clothes. Cursing himself for his stupidity James realized that if he hadn't removed his belt and emptied his pockets before flinging his garments into the water he would have lost his Pokémon and his meager possessions as well.

Finally they'd had to call Mondo to come help. They could only imagine what had run through the boy's mind when he'd pulled up in a Team Rocket jeep to find Jessie sopping wet and covered in grass with an equally wet, grass-covered Meowth stuck to her head while James stood nearby looking every bit the fool he felt wearing only his boots and a skirt he'd made out of tree branches and leaves. To preserve (what was left of) his dignity Jessie had helped him stuff leaves in holes that left crucial areas exposed.

"I wish I had Meowth stuck to my head now," Jessie said somberly, as she laid against her partner replaying the events of that long-ago day in her mind. "At least then I'd know he was all right."

"I wish we had Mondo standing in front of us with that confused look on his face telling me that if I was trying to disguise myself as a tree I should probably glue some leaves or tree bark onto my boots," said James. Jessie laughed at the memory, until James added softly, "At least then I'd know he was still alive." The laughter died in her throat and she tightened her hold on James' arm.

Mondo... Meowth...

. . . . . .

Many miles away from where Jessie and James were anxiously contemplating the fate of their friends, Meowth and Mondo were slowly floating towards home. The former, contrary to his feline nature, was daydreaming of a nice, warm bath where he could wash away the foul-smelling blood caked in his fur. The latter was gazing out at the horizon, exhausted both in body and in spirit. His eyes were burning.

"I'm a thief..." Mondo whispered. "A liar, a murderer, a traitor and now a thief..."

"We're all thieves," Meowth reminded him. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

"How can I not?" Mondo asked him. "First I betray Lana and get her killed, then I spit on her grave by robbing her little brother."

"Ya didn't steal from him, ya stole from Team Rocket," Meowth said, trying to console him. "Besides, it seems more like Spoink stole YOU."

"What difference does it make? David will get in trouble when they find out he lost one of the Pokémon he was suppose to deliver. They might even think he stole it."

Mondo had given Meowth a detailed account of everything that had happened. He told of his confrontation with the emotionally unstable Agatha, and of his success in keeping Butch and Cassidy from being Persian's next meal, and finally of meeting Lana's younger brother. The whole time he'd clutched Spoink's pokéball in his hand.

"He chose to join Team Rocket just like we did," Meowth told him. "I bet nobody asked Spoink if it wanted to be a lab specimen!"

"Nobody asked me or James," Mondo conceded. Finally he attached the black and white pokéball containing Spoink to his belt with the red and white ones containing his Ditto and Tauros.

"You SAVED Spoink, just like we saved James by helpin' ta get rid of da boss. Everything we did was worth it!"

Tell that to Giovanni's son... and Lana's brother.

"You even saved Butch 'n Cassidy," Meowth said, before grumbling under his breath, "Though I don't know what for..."

"It doesn't matter," Mondo told him. "Eventually someone else will open that door, and when that Persian gets out a lot more people will die. I'll never know how many deaths I'm responsible for."

He wondered what unfortunate person or people would be the first to come in contact with the drugged animal. Giovanni's secretary, perhaps? He had no doubt she would go straight to his office when she regained consciousness to report that somebody had knocked her out. Or maybe it would be a team of grunts sent to repair the door when she or someone else found that it wouldn't open. He wondered if any more people were scheduled to meet with Giovanni that evening, or if Wendy would go there to report that Mondo never showed up for his scheduled appointment with her. David might even be sent up there to deliver something.

Or he could be sent up to be grilled by the boss as punishment for losing the Pokémon I stole.

This last thought sent chills throughout Mondo's body.

"I may have gotten her brother killed as well," he said softly, wrapping his arms around himself. "I may have gotten dozens of people killed, and for the rest of my life I have to live with the fact that I'll never know!"

Meowth said nothing.

Is this what I deserve? Mondo wondered. He'd wanted to be Jessie's hero. He'd wanted to protect her, to give her a safe, happy life with the man she loved. Despite what Meowth said, he knew he wasn't really a hero. Heroes didn't get their friends killed. Heroes didn't orphan children. Maybe a Rocket doesn't deserve to be a hero.

There was only one thing he knew for certain: It wasn't supposed to be like this.

. . . . . .

"Do you think they'll ever come back?" James asked softly.

"I don't know," Jessie admitted. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the sky, picturing the faces of her friends. "I've been thinking about it a lot today."

"I caused them so much trouble," James said mournfully. "I wish I could tell them that I'm sorry for everything I put them through."

"They know, James. None of this was your fault."

"I want to apologize to you too, Jessie," he said, wrapping his arm around her stomach. "For a lot of things."

She turned to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"I still have... dreams, Jessie. Bad ones. Of the things I did, and... other things, too."

Jessie knew his nights were not peaceful. Almost every night she could hear him moan as he tossed and turned in his sleep. Several times he'd woken up in tears but when Jessie asked him about it he didn't want to talk about it.

"I know what it feels like now," James whispered as he stared up at the heavens above him. "To feel like time is slipping away. I could have killed you and Meowth! I would have destroyed the only true friends, the only real family I've ever known. Or I could have died without ever telling the two of you how much you changed my life." He tightened his hold on her instinctively, and Jessie placed her hand on top of his. He continued.

"Jessie... before I met you all I ever did was run away. I ran away from my parents, and Jessiebelle, and from everything else that frightened me or made me feel tied down... but the day we became partners I found something that for the first time in my life made me want to stop running, and I thank you for that."

"We've done plenty of running if my recollection is correct," Jessie remarked dryly.

"But we've always come back," he said. "Every time we failed at something we picked ourselves up and tried again. I know sometimes you had to knock me upside the head to motivate me, but... I thank you for that, too. I don't know how many times you saved me. I believe that all of our struggles, all of our failures, we were meant to experience them together... and I'm glad we did."

Jessie smiled. "I'm glad, too."

"I don't know what's going to happen to us, but I don't want to waste anymore time. I love you, Jessie, more than anything in this world, and I love Meowth and Mondo, too. Whatever happens, I want us all to be together."

Jessie nodded, smiling. "The team sticks together, no matter what!" She held out her hand to him and he grabbed it, grinning.

"No matter what!" he agreed.

They both sat up, and Jessie reached for the sketch pad on the ground. She handed it to James.

"What do you think?" she asked, as he examined the picture of himself.

"I think I taught you well," James responded, smiling. He had taken art lessons as a child and had in turn helped Jessie improve her own natural talent over the years. "But what are the Oddish and Gloom doing in the picture?"

"They showed up after you fell asleep," Jessie told him. "Why is it that Pokémon are just drawn to you?"

James shrugged. "Not all Pokémon are. Otherwise we'd have caught Pikachu long ago!"

She conceded that he had a point, before smiling and leaning close to him, whispering, "I'm drawn to you, too."

Their lips met, and James felt himself being pushed back down in a patch of bluebells. Jessie crawled on top of him and he dropped the sketch pad so he could wrap his arms around her. He sighed her name when her mouth left his and began trailing kisses down his neck and back up again. The feeling of her body against his was delicious and a moan escaped him when she again covered his mouth with hers. He became lost in the kiss, melting into pleasure-filled oblivion as her hands slipped beneath his clothes, making him shiver with delight.

"Jessie..."

He felt her kisses trail down his neck again as she began to unbuckle his belt, making him suddenly realize just how serious the situation was becoming. Panic seized him, and he pushed her away.

"No, Jessie, please!" he begged, as images from his nightmare came flooding back. He suddenly felt nauseous. "I can't do this!"

Jessie completely removed herself from him; feeling confused, concerned and even slightly insulted by the sudden and abrupt rejection.

"James, what's wrong?" she asked.

"I... I can't..." was all he could get out, fighting an overpowering urge to vomit.

"TALK to me!" Jessie demanded, beginning to get angry. "Tell me what's wrong with you!"

James shook his head again. He got to his feet and fled back to the cabin leaving Jessie to stare after him, confused. Finally she grabbed her sketchbook and followed, leaving behind a T-shaped indentation in the field where the two had laid together.

. . . . . .

The smell of Giovanni's blood was making Mondo's stomach churn. More than once he'd leaned over the basket certain he was going to throw up, but since he'd already lost his lunch earlier all he had was a bad case of dry heaves.

Meowth, on the other hand, was having a much more difficult time with the smell. It was much stronger to his sensitive feline nose, and when he closed his eyes he could still see, still feel the severed hand as it hit him on the head and landed in front of him. He was fighting to control a neurotic impulse to start using his claws to tear his blood-caked fur out.

How many times, he wondered, had he fantasized about Giovanni's hand stroking his fur instead of pointing to the door as its owner told him to get out? How many days had he spent with his teammates wet, hungry, and in various degrees of pain coming up with one disastrous scheme after another... all in the hopes that one day that hand would motion for him to come sit on his beloved boss's lap and be made much of instead of that wretched Persian?

The day he'd first arrived at Team Rocket Headquarters and was presented to Giovanni Meowth been given a large bowl of food to eat while Persian sat and watched. It had never occurred to Meowth, who'd spent his life on the streets struggling for food, that the Persian might be used to richer fare or that it might not be hungry at all since it got to eat regularly every day. Meowth was always hungry. When he'd been allowed (for the one and only time) to sit on his new boss's lap he'd wrongly assumed that HE was now the top cat around there. He'd even been allowed to personally wait on the boss and bring him tea! He'd been wrong in so many ways.

It had taken him years of attempting to "regain" his position of Top Cat before he finally realized that he had never held that position to begin with. Instead of abandoning the dream, the truth had only made him more determined to one-up Persian and replace him. For years he's tried to show them both that he was just as good- no, BETTER- than his evolved rival. What was Persian but a useless fur-ball who'd never done anything productive in its life? Sure Persian had more attack power and could no doubt use the coveted move Pay Day; but Meowth had traded attack power for brain power. Persian didn't build and operate large machines. Persian didn't jet-pack out of exploding vehicles. Persian didn't wake up every morning with a new plan to try and please its master. Meowth had worked his tail off day after day after day to show them both what a REAL cat could do.

I sure showed them, didn't I? he thought, bitterly. His once-beloved boss was now dead and his rival for the position of "Top Cat" would probably be destroyed when someone finally managed to get their hands on it. He'd finally defeated his rival, but his victory was a hollow one. He would never get to sit on the boss's lap now, and keeping Persian behind bars while he drugged it had been been surprisingly unsatisfying.

Meowth's train of thought was broken when he suddenly realized that he was in pain. He saw that it was his own claws digging into his flesh. He forced himself to stop.

Mondo, who'd been sitting down in the basket trying to calm his stomach, suddenly stood up. A gust of wind blew the grunt cap off his head and they both watched as it fell to the earth below. Mondo found it strangely satisfying to watch it disappear. He unbuckled his belt and removed it, throwing it and the pokéballs it contained to the floor of the basket by his feet.

"What are you doin'?" Meowth asked, struck with a sudden fear that his friend had been hit by a suicidal urge to jump out of the balloon. He imagined Mondo plummeting to earth has the cap had done, only with much gorier results.

Mondo didn't answer him. He pulled off his matching white gloves and boots and threw them as hard and as far as he could. One boot barely missed a bird flying passed them. The Pidgey quickly changed direction and flew away. The black grunt uniform was next. Mondo stripped it off and ripped it to shreds, throwing it over the side of the basket piece by piece as he screamed in pain and rage. Meowth watched as some pieces dropped straight to the ground while others floated away, carried by the wind. He wished he could discard the blood caked in his fur as easily as Mondo had discarded his clothing. Mondo rummaged through his bag and pulled out one of his old uniforms. His body protested the too-tight clothing, especially after wearing the baggy uniform, but he didn't care. His old boots felt better than the new ones, at least. He retrieved his belt and buckled it back, before slumping down in the basket with his head between his knees. Meowth placed his paw on Mondo's leg sympathetically.

"It's gonna be okay," Meowth tried to reassure him. "Everything'll be fine now. We're goin' home..."

. . . . . .

"You dreamed that you RAPED me?"

James hugged his knees and nodded miserably, before burying his face from view.

"When?"

"Last week, when I was taking those pills."

"James, that wasn't your fault. Your mind was being influenced by a very powerful, very dangerous drug."

"But I feel so guilty," he whispered, still struggling to control his tears. "Now I dream that I've already done it and I can't go back and undo it."

"You didn't DO anything," Jessie replied. "That's not the kind of person you are."

"But how can I KNOW that?" he responded. "If I'm not deranged why would my mind ever consider doing such a horrible thing?"

"Because you were DRUGGED."

"Jessie, part of me... my body... felt good doing it," he confessed, wanting to crawl in a hole and die for admitting such a terrible thing.

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds and James felt every muscle in his body tense up, terrified of what was coming next. Would she hit him? Scream at him? He held his breath, beginning to tremble as he envisioned the worse possible scenario: her denouncing their newfound relationship and long-term partnership and leaving him.

Oh God no... Jessie, please...

Her reaction surprised him. She embraced him. He latched onto her and wept.

"I'm sorry, Jessie! God, I'm so sorry!"

"You're human," she said softly.

"Then why do I feel like a monster?"

"You aren't a violent man," she said. "You feel guilty BECAUSE you aren't a bad man."

"I... almost tried... to hurt you," James whispered. So much of that time was now a blur to him, but he distinctively remembered what caused him to shatter their bathroom mirror... and tear up their bedroom at HQ.

"But you didn't," Jessie responded. "You proved that you were stronger than the substance in your body."

"I would rather die than hurt you," he whispered. "The fact that I even came close-"

"James listen," Jessie said, cupping his tear-stained face with her hands. "Your mind and body were both being manipulated by the drug in your system. The things you were thinking and feeling were the result of that. It's all right now. It's over."

"How can I get past this?" he asked. "The dreams, the images in my head... How do I make them go away?"

"I don't know."

"Jessie when you- when we... out in that field... that dream came rising back to the surface and I thought I was going to be sick."

"It'll fade in time," she assured him, stroking his hair lovingly. "Just give it some time, and when you're ready..." She smiled and kissed his lips, before whispering in his ear, "I'll be waiting."

He embraced her tightly. "Jessie..."

"You're safe," she said softly. "Safe and alive. That's all I need, James."

He pulled out a red rose and pressed it into her hands. It was a declaration... and a promise.

"I love you, Jessica. I'll love you forever."

. . . . . .

The small cottage was hard to spot in the darkness, but Meowth's sharp eyes located it at once. Both he and Mondo were overjoyed by the knowledge that in less than five minutes they would see their friends. Their week-long separation felt like an eternity.

Mondo jumped out of the air balloon before Meowth had finished landing it and ran to the cabin. His excitement died, however, the moment he touched the door. For a brief, insane moment he wondered if the two people inside would recognize him. He no longer recognized himself. Weighed down by the burden of his guilty conscience, he felt as if his very soul had been transformed by the taint of sins he could never wash away. He felt like a stranger in his own skin.

Will they still want to associate with me after they learn what I've done? Will anyone?

He found himself moving to the window. Peeking inside, he saw James stretched out on the floor, sleeping with his head in Jessie's lap. Jessie was stroking his hair affectionately as he snored softly. Mondo felt an overwhelming urge to go in there and push James away from her and rest his own head in her lap instead. He wanted to bury his face against her and just cry and cry and cry... Let James watch from the sidelines for once as she stroked HIS hair, as she whispered soothing words in HIS ear... Let James be the outsider this time. Mondo clutched his fist. He just might do it... he just might...

"We have ta let it go Mondo," Meowth told him, when he'd landed the balloon and caught up to him. "Everything dat happened... we have ta put it behind us."

"Miss Jessie always said I was too innocent," Mondo said, continuing to stare at them through the window. "But I'm not innocent, not anymore."

He felt like a damned soul; like someone who'd strayed so far from the path of righteousness that he could never do anything right or good again. What did Rockets know of righteousness? What did murderers know about souls; other than the fact that they destroyed other people's and lost their own in the bargain? He'd never believed in hell before- he still didn't, but he had a feeling that the way he was feeling now was as close as any human being could get. If it were possible to feel worse than he did now he didn't want to know it. He would go insane.

"Maybe I never had a soul to begin with..." he continued. "Maybe the person I thought I was never existed. Maybe I never really was... innocent..."

"Maybe," Meowth responded. "Or maybe everything has a dark side... even innocence."

-CONTINUED IN PART FOURTEEN-