Hello, it is Wednesday (no it's not because I forgot to press upload -.-) and I am back with a new chapter! It is also Valentine's Day, which is Jorginho's birthday, so I knew I had to momentarily break my hiatus with a story focusing on him :P I know I said that I would be back this month, but I did update on Rocket Daze and explain that I was extending my break so I won't be back updating Pikachu Tales again until March - apart from this little update! I wanted to choose a story that reflected all that I have written to be uploaded - and what is hopefully to come. While the subject matter isn't really that (there's so much more to come!), it's a bit different for me so I wanted to show that I want to try new things in 2024 :) This story is a little darker than usual. It shows the rough and quite violent side of Team Rocket. In this story, Jorginho breaks a rule and faces Giovanni's wrath. I hope you enjoy!

Just a heads up, this chapter contains violence and blood! Also there's hints of abuse of power/uneven power dynamics between Team Rocket's Giovanni and his employees.

The room that Jorginho was walking into may as well have been filled with thick, dark smoke from how suffocating the atmosphere felt. And yet, something even more loathsome loomed ahead of him. But he still walked in as he usually did. With methodical, even strides. Shoulders wide. Chest towards the future. Calmly. Stably. Carefully.

Like he owned the place.

Though he was not alone for he was joined by an equally armor-clad man who was easily twice his breadth – Jorginho still sauntered in like he had no care in the world. But that was a lie. At least a similar fate awaited both him and the man encapsulated in the shade of a greenish-blue sea, he told himself.

But did it? And could he even fully comprehend what was waiting for him? Surely not.

When Giovanni wished to speak with you it was often very, very gruesome. Sometimes in a one in a million twist of fate, it was wonderful. You could be promoted. You could be awarded. You could even get praise.

Somehow, Jorginho sensed that praise did not await either him or the man he strolled into the meeting room with. But he still walked as if he owned the place. He told himself that he did. That was the only way that he could soothe his mind from whirring a million miles a second and his heartrate from thudding in not only his chest.

"Jorginho. Cyan." Giovanni greeted the two bounty collectors of his organization of Team Rocket when they stood in their correct places. On two individually marked black R's. He seemed to appear from the shadows, leaving the wall of darkness behind him. "So good of you to be here."

While the bounty collector known as Cyan next to him stood with his feet planted on either side of the burning R and muscular, plated arms folded over his matte blue chest, Jorginho privately twitched inside his midnight covering.

So good of you to be here.

Like they had a choice. Like anything other than compliance would have been accepted.

Jorginho's heartrate was still pulsating in his throat and even in the recesses of his guts. He detested that he could feel it. It made him feel like a sheet of ice. But he hated that he secretly flinched at the words even more. And hoped with all his racing heart that it hadn't been noticed.

"Sir." Cyan replied to their boss' words with this single one and nothing more. He rarely gave anything away at the best of times. Certainly not when he was left nearly alone with the leader of Team Rocket.

Jorginho's voice did not echo from behind the modulator of his helmet. He did not even allow the lengthy exhale that he wished to take to make an appearance. He instead answered Giovanni's words with altering the position of his body, his gloved hand resting against the shape of his right hip and his left leg popping slightly forward to support his weight.

He did not do this to feign confidence. He was just being himself.

This was a crime he would pay for at a later moment.

"Do you have any idea why you are here?" interrogated Giovanni, the walls of the questioning room a dozen meters away being left behind him even further as he chose to stand right in front of the two men. An exact amount between both Jorginho and Cyan.

Such calculated precision.

Cyan's arms did not falter over his chest while Jorginho's concealed fingers needed to pinch his own hip even more. The blue hued man answered as he saw fit. He answered in the only way he knew how. With honesty.

"I do." He spoke. It was easy for him.

Unlike Jorginho and unbeknownst to Jorginho, Cyan had been clued in to why he was present on that day.

Jorginho had been given no such talking to.

The man covered from head to toe in the deepest black before it disappeared entirely apart from the citrus orange outlining his visor gained power over his own mind. He encouraged it away from racing through all kinds of things and cast his imagination back.

There was one point where almost a cloud in his own mind threatened to dull his clarity. Rather than focusing on this which he should have done, he quickly yanked his mind away from that. He knew he needed to answer Giovanni. He could see through his t-shaped visor that his arms were now folded over his chest like Cyan's were and his head was taking in his own form at an angle.

Jorginho knew he should answer with the same honesty as the other bounty collector. He couldn't manage it. His voice sounded for the first time in that room behind his beloved helmet.

"I don't." Came his reply, his left leg still popped outwards, so his knee was nearly brushing against Giovanni's as he decided to close the distance with him rather than Cyan. A noise sounded from the boss' crisp white shirt as he unclenched his arms away from his body.

Jorginho's hands busied themselves with adjusting his helmet though it didn't need to be instead of flinching for a second time. He would go on to realize how guilty this gesture made him look. It would have been better if he trembled. It was better that he was weak rather than guilty in that moment.

"Well, let me ask you some questions then, gentlemen." Giovanni's voice boomed a level or two louder than before. His arms were back over his chest, and he resumed equal position between both of his bounty collectors. And yet, his steely blue gaze fixed on Jorginho's outline for more than a few heartbeats before he turned to the man next to him. "Cyan?"

Giovanni was getting down to business. He didn't bother to paint a picture. He rarely did. He didn't have the energy or even the ability to remind the men of what their missions had previously been and therefore why they had both been summoned down to his other favorite room in the headquarters.

Cyan unfurled his arms away from his torso. As soon as he heard his name, he stood to attention and the hairs on the back of his concealed neck privately erected.

He would do anything for the man who had built such a magnificent empire for them all.

"Yes, sir?" Cyan's reply did not hesitate to form, his oceanic gloved hands hanging by his sides while his plated shoulders stood high. Stood adoringly. Stood loyally.

Giovanni knew what he wanted, what they were all there for, even if he himself did not know where they would end up. Because of this, his words were prompt and direct and for Cyan and Cyan alone.

Or were they?

"Have you removed your helmet in front of an enemy lately?" he interrogated. Because he was savvy to the glint that somehow streaked across Cyan's matte blue armor, he knew that it was imperative that he added. "And have you had it removed by an enemy?"

Cyan allowed silence to ring out for just one single second. One breath. One heartbeat.

His helmet then swung from side to side with an equal amount of certainty that would soon echo from his throat.

"No, sir." He answered. He was unaware of the way that his own fists clenched by his hips at the mere thought of it. Jorginho was not. Cyan added without second thought: "No to both."

Thanks to another of his highly sought after traits in Team Rocket being his intuition as well as his confidence no matter the occasion, Jorginho had not only taken note of Cyan's clenched fists. While their boss had been interacting with the other bounty collector, his helmet had curved down towards the floor.

A mistake. A horrendous mistake.

For all that Jorginho could conceal behind his beloved armor, he could not hide the fact that he could see where all of this was going. It dawned on him like the kiss of a new day why Cyan had been asked to go with him to the interrogation room.

Cyan was not in trouble. He had not been on the field in a couple of months thanks to recently becoming a father for the first time. Cyan was not in trouble at all.

But Jorginho was.

"Jorginho." Giovanni interjected his thoughts. He might have been quick to look back up from his polished boots, but he had been unable to hide the fact that he had been looking down instead of straight ahead like he was meant to. Jorginho could not stifle the jump of his shoulders as Giovanni was toe to toe with him. "Have you had your helmet removed by an enemy?"

From behind his covering, Jorginho's jaw hollowed out and his teeth clenched. He was not foolish. Giovanni's perverse interest in him few the years – he did not dare say soft spot – made him able to read the parts of him that he showed like a book.

He had started with his question for a reason.

Jorginho could feel Cyan's helmet twitching towards his before he remembered his obligation, his head fixing towards their boss instead. How Jorginho wished that he could focus on Giovanni with the same effortlessness.

"I have not." Jorginho replied, feeling even more like the whole room was watching him from the way that Giovanni loomed so close to him that he had to straighten both knees and force his hand away from resting on his hip.

It was only himself, Giovanni, and Cyan in the room but he felt as though he was watched by millions. Perhaps he was. He knew there were security cameras in that room. And all versions of his past self, tuned into him there and then, as well as future ones.

Well, he did not know if he had a future beyond those four dark walls.

"You've not had your helmet removed by an enemy on the field." Giovanni nearly… hummed? Jorginho felt the need to look away for a whole new reason, but he still did not dare. His moistening brown eyes blinked from behind his t-shaped visor. "Good."

That word seemed to billow out of Giovanni's mouth and separate into its separate letters, each one of them crawling across Jorginho's spine and making him long to shudder. And yet even more, it was an earlier word that flashed through his mind.

Enemy.

Jorginho felt differently to other Team Rocket members sometimes. Certainly, from Giovanni. He was never that sure who actually was the enemy. On the battlefield and in the middle of a task it could be slightly more easily deciphered.

An enemy was anybody who stood in his way. A Pokémon poacher who tried to intercept and claim the Pokémon before he could. Other team organizations. Team Rocket was not the only empire that ran operations in Kanto anymore so sometimes the enemy could be people known as Team Plasma. Team Galatic. Team Aqua.

Jorginho didn't see them as an enemy. He couldn't. He refused.

The enemy could sometimes be members of his own team. His own guild. His own clan. Some didn't take well to him being in charge some of the time. They conspired against him. Tried to claim the bounty for their own.

He had to take them out.

Enemy.

So fickle. If he were an enemy to others, then did that mean he couldn't remove his helmet in front of himself?

Jorginho resisted voicing this. He had let enough time go by without Giovanni prompting him. He couldn't leave his bosses musings unanswered, no matter how big or small.

"That's right." He confirmed. Giovanni acknowledged the long silence by being hurried to find his own words.

Hurried, yes. But not rash. Never clumsy. That wasn't his style. That was what made him frightening. That was what made him dangerous.

"And have you ever willingly removed your helmet in front of an enemy?" Giovanni wondered. He had taken a step away from Jorginho and they were no longer toe to toe. The way that his face angled on the opposite side to when he was interrogating made him seem… fairer?

Jorginho would not fall for this. He knew better than anybody. He knew better than to look away. But he still did.

While Cyan's helmet longed to twitch back towards him out of the sheer judgement at how he was behaving, Jorginho kid himself that he was momentarily looking down at his feet to collect his own words.

"Define enemy." Jorginho needed clarity. This was a bad choice. Any method of going against Giovanni's orders was forbidden.

Cyan might have been able to resist looking over at Jorginho on many occasions, but he could not stop the scoff that echoed through his modulator. He had been more than happy to follow Giovanni's order of accompanying the fellow man simply because the boss had asked him to.

When he had been clued into the fact that it was due to potential disloyalty, he was even more eager. He had been eager to see if it had been true. Eager to see if Jorginho was really like that. He had always been suspicious of him. He was too easy-going. Too personable for a bounty collector. Too popular. The smile when he did take his helmet off at the end of the day far too merry.

Giovanni did not scold Cyan's momentarily lapse in stoicism when it erupted. He was too busy laying into Jorginho.

They were toe to toe once more. Giovanni's feet in his shiny shoes were practically on top of the tip of Jorginho's steel capped boots.

"I know what you did, Jorginho." He suddenly thundered, both his eyebrows going their separate ways on his face and one hooking upwards furthermore than the other. Jorginho's eye contact may be dipping inside his helmet, but the armor remained facing forward. He tried to face the fact that there was no outrunning the truth. "You took your helmet off in front of a Pokémon! But even worse! An enemy Pokémon!"

Cyan resisted a second scoff, but his gloved hands balled together to express his anguish that was felt equally as intensely as Giovanni's.

Jorginho had a choice. A lot of people looked up to Cyan. He did too in some ways. He had a chance to be like him. To be humble. To be humbled. To be loyal. To bend over backwards.

That wasn't his style.

Jorginho loathed true traitors, but a mistake was a mistake.

He did not beg. But he did lay down the truth.

"I did not know it was an enemy Pokémon, sir." Jorginho began but he could not finish.

Giovanni's whole being contorted. As his own hand raised towards his face, for a split second Jorginho thought that he was going to hit him. That would have been a mistake. He would not have laid a hand on him in return, but he would not need to.

Slapping pure painted steel would be a major error.

Giovanni's hand fell to his own thudding forehead and Cyan had his turn to flinch as for a split second, his turmoil seemed to turn towards him.

"You may leave, Cyan." Giovanni ordered. Oh, how he longed to tangle both his hands in his hair in frustration. But he could not ruin his slicked back appearance. He instead added: "You've achieved what you were meant to do here. You've done me proud."

Cyan wanted to burn with the notion that he longed to remain. Longed to be present. He felt that he needed to be. He needed to know all what Jorginho had done. But then the other words came. Giovanni was filled with pride. Filled with pride for him.

He took a second to pause, to tilt his own head to the side. Something else burned inside of him when he could see in his boss' eyes that he was telling the truth. They honored each other in different ways. They honored each other in return. Cyan had to honor Giovanni by complying.

So, he did.

It took everything in his power not to barge into Jorginho as he left. But he was given a whole different satisfaction when he could feel Jorginho looking over his shoulder at him as he loudly exited the interrogation room in one piece for all to know about.

This stung Jorginho because he knew it would not be the same for him. Yet furthermore, Giovanni's pride for Cyan wounded him. He knew he could not be so agreeable. But still, he believed that his other achievements and other loyalty should be considered.

Jorginho considered voicing this. But he was soon shut down by Giovanni's face right in front of his, the two of them nearly inhaling each other's vastly different exhalations.

"I could consider that you are telling the truth if this is an isolated incident." He began, causing a shiver to run its fingers down Jorginho's spine but not at the proximity. It was the way that those steely blue eyes were looking at him up and down in their closeness. Like he wanted to end him. Or worse, devour him, so he could finally know what it meant to be loyal. "But I know it is not."

Jorginho's eyes of brown earth were looking down while his helmet stayed fixed forward. It just had to. Giovanni knew that it hadn't been fixed on his face during a fateful moment. There was no hiding it.

He allowed a sigh to escape from him as his irises plopped down. Nothing was ever a secret in Team Rocket. They had tabs on you constantly. And if they didn't, then someone would surely snitch on you.

Jorginho knew what Giovanni was talking about. The error that he had made. Deep down he knew that it wasn't believable. But Jorginho believed in the truth within the chasm of Team Rocket. And he had to believe that it would prevail.

"I speak of the truth when I say that I believed that the Pokémon was not an enemy." Jorginho began but he could quickly see that it may be to no avail. He had to choose his words carefully. Truthfully. Honorably. The articulation was everything when it came to Giovanni. "And I mean no malice when I remove my helmet in front of the babies in my care." Giovanni's throat had been vibrating as though he longed to vehemently scoff. To scream. Something glinted in Jorginho. Yes. He had to take this chance. "Do they not deserve kindness?"

Giovanni's response began as movements in the body. He lunged away from Jorginho as if he had never heard anything so absurd. Then his throat movements were put to clever use. It did indeed start as a scoff. But then it changed. Not into a scream, no.

Jorginho watched with careful quietness behind his helmet as Giovanni erupted into quite maniacal laughter, his eyebrows forming a union again and all of the tips of all of his fingers twitching as they were held out in front of him.

"My dear boy," Giovanni began in between bouts of continuous uneasy chuckles, words that vastly contradicted the situation that Jorginho found himself a part of. He privately winced. "You should have learned a long time ago that kindness and loyalty here do not go hand in hand. You must choose one." Jorginho's mouth opened behind his mask. Giovanni's voice boomed, preventing him from going any further. "You will return here the same time tomorrow to learn this lesson. You have been shown before that kindness is a weakness. And I have no doubt that it will be a lesson well learned."

Jorginho's throat made a noise as his mouth opened behind his helmet a second time to speak. But Giovanni had already lost his laughter. He had already lost his rage. Jorginho had lost Giovanni's attention. He did not even need to end his sentences with a goodbye or a until then. Jorginho knew that both things were set in stone, and this was one thing not worth arguing.

Giovanni solidified the end of the conversation in a way that was very nonnegotiable. He turned his back on Jorginho. His favorite bounty collector. And he leaned up against the window of the interrogation room ahead, his palm flat out and high above his head, steadying him in this position.

Jorginho could not argue. He could not argue with Giovanni. Not with fate. He just had to show up the same time tomorrow. And, well, he had made it out alive on that day. So he just had to pray that he would on the following one too. And he had to kid himself that Giovanni's lesson was one that wouldn't be an impactful one.

The next day came around in an eerie sort of haze. Needless to say, Jorginho hadn't been able to concentrate all that much on the company that he had kept between those two days and the gathering he had been invited too and made that even worse for himself by indulging in the usual activities of his that took his mind to different consciousnesses.

But the next day came around as expected. And a full twenty-four hours to the dot later, Jorginho was back in that same room with Giovanni, and they were prepared to have their second standoff. Jorginho did not dare edge his gaze towards the clock. He knew what games were at play. He did not wish to engage, let alone acknowledge them.

It was three in the afternoon on the dot. It made his stomach churn. But it made him force a smirk behind his helmet. Typical Giovanni. So conniving. No doubt would the lesson be one filled with guile. But he told himself over and over again that he could see it through in multiple pieces if not the one piece.

That was until Giovanni barked words directed towards the looming interrogation room shadowing behind them both. And Jorginho thought his stomach was going to drop out of him.

"Remove his helmet." He ordered and at first, it was unclear who he was talking to because, obviously, they were alone.

And there was no way that Giovanni made mistakes with his words. With his commands. He never did. Jorginho's smirk dropped down from behind his covering. And then it dropped even further down than the potential contents of his stomach when two men that he did not recognize came out of the door of the shadowy interrogation room and broke their distance with him.

Ah. So that was who was being summoned. Just like he had been.

It had been bad enough that to restrict Jorginho while he received his lesson, he had been tied up with his own electrical buzzing lasso weapon that was activated by a button on his own belt and the only body part he could move was his head.

How confining. How mortifying. How demonizing.

At least it couldn't get any worse, Jorginho had told himself.

It seemed that it could.

One of the men secured him around his body as if he wasn't already held tight and, while Giovanni stood with feet spread apart on the ground and nodding approvingly, the other shot out a clumsy hand and lifted his helmet away starting with his chin.

Now that was truly belligerent.

Jorginho had to now control his facial expressions as the cold air hit his face and he fought hard not to contort all the muscles on the outside of his skull as, with a careless motion of the hand, his helmet was tossed to the side.

It made such an obstepherous clang that ricocheted repeatedly as the painted steel spun around on the floor like the globe on its axis. Giovanni was undeterred by its screeching. He motioned the two men to disappear back into the room.

Jorginho should not have felt his heart plummeting down inside the rest of him at his helmet being treated in this way because, after all, he had been disloyal to Team Rocket. But still, that was his armor. That was his protection. That was his everything.

Jorginho knew why Giovanni was doing all of this.

They might as well get down to it, mightn't they?

"Apart from just now, have you ever had your helmet removed? By an enemy, Jorginho?" Giovanni questioned, his feet still collectedly wide spread apart and his arms folded over his chest concealed by a freshly pressed white shirt. He was wearing a new tie too. Different pattern, of course.

Jorginho refrained from sighing and controlled his countenance now he could be read even more like a book. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to all of the sights without his prescription contact lenses inside of the helmet.

Yes, that was the reason that he squinted.

"I have not." Jorginho answered, unable to steer his tongue away from doing a clinking sound against his teeth at the end of the last letter of the last word that he spoke. He was quick to realize that this was a mistake.

But still, Giovanni's hand did not raise towards his face now that it was uncovered. He instead continued asserting his authority. Tyrannical authority.

"And have you removed it in front of an enemy, Jorginho?" his second question came, his favorite bounty collector's name tumbling out of him with ease.

This made Jorginho's skin crawl although he had to contain all of this. How uneasy he felt. Not just because of being tied up and having the cold air hit his bare skin of his face over and over again.

Giovanni acted as if things were still the same between them both. Like he was still the member he had the highest hopes for. Jorginho imagined that this had changed. And it would only be so long before he witnessed that change firsthand.

"I have." Jorginho said. Giovanni was about to open his mouth to enjoy the sound of his own voice furthermore when Jorginho's tones like a level playing field cut over him, equally as deep even without the muffle of a helmet. "But I believed that it was the Pokémon in my own care. And I meant no disrespect."

Not that Jorginho could see it, but Giovanni's toes curled in his shiny black shoes before his lip curved on his face at the word disrespect. Disloyal was synonymous with disrespect, he believed. But timing was everything. He could not rush the younger man's lesson. Everything had to be perfect.

At first, he acted as though he was reasonable.

"Explain to me what happened." Giovanni encouraged, holding onto his own bulbous elbows as he stood toe to toe with Jorginho, his head tilted on the right side to show that he meant no harm really.

To act as if he meant no harm.

Jorginho was not a fool. But he also was desperate to tell his side of things, whether he admitted this verbally or not. And so, the bounty collector did not hesitate to tell his side of the tale – to paint the picture.

Yes, it was true that he often broke the rules and removed his helmet in front of the baby Pokémon he collected and brought back to the headquarters but that was because they were young and desperate for connection. For kindness.

Jorginho did not see what the error was in that. They would belong to all of Team Rocket eventually, wouldn't they? So, what was wrong revealing his face to a creature that he needed to earn the trust of, needed to bring them to their new empire with not too much stress running their blood both hot and cold?

Giovanni let him have his own way with this. Mostly.

Revealing one's face in front of the enemy was far less forgivable. But it had been an honest mistake, Jorginho tried to tell him.

Was it his fault that the person who had tried to intercept his bounty collection had possessed a Pokémon of the exact same kind and he had accidentally taken that one onto his aircraft instead of the one with his name on it? And was it his fault that he had done what he had often done to soothe the wailing creature, lifting his helmet up off his face by his chin, so the two of them could look into each other's eyes and learn to bond however briefly?

Giovanni certainly thought so.

The further that Jorginho got into his explanation, the more Giovanni's face twisted like it had done the day previous. It was as if a maniacal puppet muster was pulling all of the strings of his features.

"I suppose you think that it was the kind thing to do?" Giovanni interrogated, remembering the day before as much as his bounty collector did and his tongue twisting around these words as though they were naturally sour.

He was hugging onto his own elbows as if the one word in particular was truly foreign to him.

For the first time that day, Jorginho hesitated spilling the truth. He knew hesitation risked showing weakness. But then again, kindness did the same thing in Giovanni's eyes so he may as well just get on with it.

"The right thing to do." Jorginho practically corrected, those eyes of his that were toned the hue of the earth widening as it dawned on himself that gentleness was nearly always the correct thing to do.

However, in the split second that followed these words, Jorginho's eyes widened for a vastly different reason. You see, from behind the blurry shadow of the walls of the interrogation room, a horrendous thwacking sound could be heard following by the sound of something hitting the ground. Something soft. And yet something weighty.

Giovanni addressed this like it was nothing from the second that Jorginho's wide eyes searched his for answers.

"I'm sure you remember in your training days when you made a mistake and another of your kind had to suffer." Giovanni painted a picture whether he intended to or not. Jorginho's mind effortlessly cast back. Trying to ignore his increasing heart rate, he resisted the urge to remind Giovanni that he rarely made mistakes then, that was why he ended up enrolling full time instead of just for that summer. "While we have this conversation, someone is paying for your mistakes." The crunching of what could only be from bones moaned from behind the other walls. "They definitely will pay."

The softness of Giovanni's voice as he uttered that last sentence made a chill run its icy fingers up Jorginho's spine equally as much as the thought of someone else suffering for his mistakes. Inside of himself, Jorginho did something very rare for him there and then.

He told himself that it was okay because they probably had lessons to learn themselves and at least he couldn't see them.

Stupidly, he voiced this.

"How noble of you to educate not only myself but someone also in your care." Jorginho said, his voice as flat as the open road that he often drove his car across on a rare day off. His eyes were often very naturally expressive and containing the glint of sunshine but, there and then, they could not be accessed in the same way.

This was sarcasm. A mighty risk.

Giovanni showed this by cackling in Jorginho's face, him unable to be shielded from the saliva shower thanks to his helmet that had since settled down on the floor after being ripped from his face.

"This person is not in my care." Giovanni let slip before he said some other, weightier words and so Jorginho focused only on these words. It took his attention more than the disgust that his hands were bound so he could not wipe his face clean. "It is, however, someone you care for greatly. So, for your own sake, this better be a lesson that you learn quickly."

Giovanni didn't have anything on Jorginho, he often liked to tell himself. He could walk away tomorrow with his head held high and enough aliases under his belt that he would never be found and free to travel the world and discover dreams other than finding family within the organization over and over again.

Realization is a cruel thing. Sometimes it can come on slowly which is painful enough. And yet, sometimes, it hits you right in the stomach, nearly bending you in half.

This could have happened to Jorginho if he hadn't been so secured by his own lasso.

He may still be standing up straight but that did not mean he didn't feel the weight of realization catching in him the throat before rotting in his stomach like a ball without its chain.

Jorginho knew that Giovanni had an affinity for him. There was a reason he kept choosing him for certain tasks. This made him understand that he would force him to be great no matter the cost.

No matter the cost.

Jorginho suddenly knew that he was penniless.

"It better not be one of my own." Jorginho blurted out, writhing inside the coils of his own restraints as if this could do anything. He said this as if any violence to any member of Team Rocket he would turn a blind eye to. He wouldn't. As far as he was concerned, everyone was a brother and everyone was a sister. "It better not be Oz."

Giovanni began to cackle as he saw what he believed to be the weakness that lived inside of Jorginho. He turned over his shoulder as if he could see through the blur of midnight glass and into where someone was still being beaten by those two men and would be as long as the lesson needed to be.

The smirk had been swiped from Jorginho's face, but it was then lacing the older man's features.

He always looked the same no matter how old he got. But that smirk made him besmirched. Disgusting.

"Do you really think that I would be so straight forward and to punish you with the loss of someone you haven't yet lost?" Giovanni could not help but let all of this slip this time and he did not stop there. His arms were no longer around his chest and yet he appeared wider than before. Wider than Cyan. "Losing someone you've lost before is a greater lesson."

Jorginho's plated chest heaved before an eruption of an exhalation was set free. Words fired out of him, visibly his teeth chattering over the continual noises that he heard in the other room.

Giovanni could not be so despicable, could he…?

"You cannot hurt Domino because of me, you can't!" he cried out with a thorny flush bleeding into his cheeks, very hurriedly losing all of the traits in himself that gave himself the smallest semblance of pride. But he could not be confident. He could not be composed. He was terrified for more than his own safety – his sanity. "That is beneath you."

Jorginho managed to swerve the words beneath even you in spite of the trembling that was taking him over from his toes to the top of his helmetless head. He had to pray that these words were true too. But as much as anything else, he was equally frightened that he could be proven wrong.

Giovanni guffawed again before he broke the distance with Jorginho. He loathed that he couldn't shove him off when he wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He longed to spit on his shoes.

Instead, his countenance clenched.

"Oh, I would not do this to a female, but this person may as well be one." He announced to Jorginho's confusion before that arm squeezed further around him and another finger beckoned. "Come." Giovanni encouraged as Jorginho couldn't settle his gaze anywhere in particular. "Because it's you, I will give you a little treat and allow you to witness the best part of the lesson."

With a push of the button, Jorginho was freed from his constraints which he wasn't expecting, and the lasso whipped back into the gadget on his belt like a tape measure no longer needed for its use. He was expecting this so little that he accidentally fell against Giovanni.

Now that was truly demoralizing.

Jorginho had to trudge on shaking, uncertain legs with Giovanni still securing him with an arm around his shoulders, being led into the interrogation room behind the blurry glass so that he could see for himself that exactly was going on. Who exactly was suffering for his sake.

He didn't wish to. He knew this from the beginning so from the second that they made it to the door – before Giovanni could turn the handle – he turned his face away from the bigger man and squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

Giovanni laughed again when he noticed and stopped holding Jorginho around his shoulders, instead shoving him into the room and following so closely behind him that his front was pressed up against Jorginho's back.

Jorginho inwardly heaved but still did not open his eyes. Giovanni had been right to remove him of all of his weapons because the brushing contact of this kind made him want to unleash a type of anger that he rarely set free.

"Look, my own kin." Whispered Giovanni against the back of Jorginho's neck as his hand reached around him and cupped his jaw from behind, forcing his head in the direction where the violence was occurring. He could hear it. The sound of knuckles against flesh and bone but he couldn't look. Wouldn't look. "Or do you want your own stubbornness, your own disloyalty, to rid you for good of the person that you once loved the most?"

Giovanni's hot, stifling breath at the back of Jorginho's neck made him want to throw up every meal that he had ever eaten. He believed that he couldn't possibly feel more disgusted. But then something hit. That something was reality. It was reality mixed with clarity.

Oh God.

Nausea was the last threat to Jorginho in that moment. A panic more excruciating than he had ever experienced before – and that was saying something – jolted his body into a rigid state and forced himself to open his eyes.

Jorginho wanted to do more than retch when he saw the person who was hunched up on the floor and being given punch after punch and kick after kick by the two same men that had restrained him and removed him of his dignity.

He wanted to sob.

Jorginho rarely expressed sadness with tears. Rarely expressed anything with tears. Not true tears, anyway.

But when he saw James lying there, his skin bruised the same hue as his hair and parts of his skin broken with a red liquid more scorching than the hue of his wife's hair, Jorginho wanted to weep.

Instead, he screamed while Giovanni smirked.

"You are evil!" Jorginho roared, his body flailing about in the horror, back of the knees and elbows jabbing but without his weapons he was useless. Even with his armor he was useless. Giovanni was right about something. He had been rendered useless by the fragility of his heart.

Jorginho did not have it in him to turn on his boss, instead wanting to rush and save James instead.

Giovanni was aware of this and so that stomach churning humming sound occurred for the second time.

"You are slacking, Jorginho." His tone evened out from a hum to the same coldness of his eyes when Giovanni reached his bounty collectors name. His hand was on the back of his neck, close to where his hair had been cropped short. "You have not been showing that potential that I know is inside you lately. That loyalty." Jorginho's eyes fluttered shut. But then they opened again. He didn't think he would ever see James again. "First the baby Pokémon. Then that female in Paldea distracting you. Now being weak in front of the enemy."

Giovanni's jaw contorted. This was not the person that had trained in his program many, many summers ago. The one older than his contemporaries and even more eager to please but strong. Collected. Dedicated. Powerful.

Jorginho wasn't showing his boss any of these traits there and then. But Giovanni wouldn't punish him entirely. He wouldn't banish him. He knew those attributes could come back. The right buttons just needed to be pushed. The right suffering had to occur.

He stopped feasting his eyes helplessly at the man he had once believed to be a brother. He turned around in front of Giovanni to look at him right in the eye. His own eyes may not have been watering but his nostrils were, leaking liquid down towards a hint of a beard that could come in the next few years.

"W-Why him?" he asked. It was a silly question, really. Giovanni had answered this himself accidentally all those moments before.

Losing someone the first-time round wasn't exactly easy. But you did have some sort of newness on your side so you could get through it. But losing someone a second time? Losing someone you had already lost?

This was an entirely different wound.

And it was a wound that could lead to great lessons, Giovanni believed. And a wound that would lead to complete loyalty. Complete compliance.

In that moment, however, the hammer of Giovanni's tyranny did not slam down onto Jorginho. Instead, something else occurred. Something that encouraged him to look over at him rather than back at James no matter how he felt his heart in his chest being pummeled with every kick to the head that his old friend received.

"You must understand, Jorginho." Giovanni began. Hearing his own name made him feel more unsettled than being called his kin. He would never be that. He would never aspire to be that no matter what rewards could follow and security he may or may not receive. "I'm doing this for you. I'm doing this because deep down you are great, and you can be even better."

Jorginho would not be sweetened with words. Even less with touch. His face turned to the side and his features scrunched up one by one as Giovanni broke the distance in front of the younger man, he saw so much of himself within and with one hand pushed down against his shoulder and the other began to brush underneath his jaw.

He was going to trace his hand down towards his neck, proving their union there. But Jorginho wasn't going to go for it. Would never go for it. Giovanni was wrong. His open heart was his strength, and it always would be.

Jorginho suddenly shoved Giovanni away from him and then he darted closer to the violence. The two men's bodies immediately jerked as they anticipated being told to begin the violence on Jorginho instead, but they were instructed another way by a gesture of the hand of Giovanni now that it was not on a shoulder.

The two burly men backed away from both Jorginho and James. Giovanni watched as, Jorginho knew it was the wrong thing to do, he could hurt him more, but he couldn't help but bend and scoop James up so his unconscious body was held up against his like he was a pathetic infant, both their faces turned towards the Team Rocket boss.

Jorginho cried out for another occasion, tears from his nose dripping down into the lavender hair of his old friend.

"How could you do this to him?!" Jorginho's words were punctuated with a hiccup that sure sounded like a sob, his cheeks alight with emotion. James was so light in his arms as he had always been. So delicate and soft. Not weak. Just to be handled with care. "He was one of your best." Jorginho's eyes blurred with anguish. "And he was my brother."

Giovanni was suddenly looming in front of them both. Jorginho instinctively held James up in the one arm and pressed a palm over his heart with the other.

Giovanni couldn't care less for the unconscious man and his words confirmed this.

"Was, Jorginho. Was. Exactly." He stood very straight, very present. His arms did not bend and cover his own chest. His hands did not swing as they hung around his hips. Giovanni looked through James. He looked right at Jorginho instead. The one who still stood a chance. "He was disloyal. And your loyalty to him made you weak then and it makes you weak now." Jorginho focused on him through a blurriness that was not down to no spectacles on his bare face. "You are supposed to be loyal only to me, the other members with the same loyalty and the Team Rocket way."

Jorginho had had enough. He had had enough of taking it. Yes, he broke rules that he had once agreed to. But things changed in Team Rocket all the time. They moved forward. They had to. None of them could stagnate.

Jorginho would not bend over and just take it. He would not be a martyr. Even if he ended up with the same fate as poor James. Well, at least they might be together again.

"I am." He muttered, both of his arms holding up his old friend but it wasn't any use. He would have to let him go eventually. He would have to let him go eventually for the second time. "Perhaps kindness isn't something you want from us but it's something I want for myself." Jorginho's voice thickened through his own words, holding James tighter than ever before. "It's something he gave to me and something you cannot ever take away!"

Giovanni looked as though he had lost the most important thing in the world on that day. Respect for Jorginho. The two other men in the room looked over at him as if awaiting still to be told to unleash more violence but this instruction never came.

A heavy sigh escaped from Giovanni and he even looked down at his own shoes – against his own rules – at the display that Jorginho was putting on. He had such potential. But he ruined it by putting on such a show. Prioritizing other things.

Giovanni's words confirmed his actions after his hands stuffed into his pockets and his had swung from side to side in a somber manner.

"This softness makes you weak. And it will be your downfall in this establishment." Giovanni warned. But it was not his usual warning. He had lost his usual gusto. Or, moreover, he was pretending to have lost it to spark something inside of Jorginho.

But to no avail.

Jorginho had energy for one thing and one thing only and that was to hold up James while speaking the truth that resided in his heart. He had little energy for anything else. That was obvious from the mumble that formed on his lips.

"I see." He said. He did not argue. He did not reject. Giovanni saw things as he saw them and perhaps, in time, Jorginho would come around to his side and grovel.

But for the time being, he had James in his arms again and whatever lessons he had been willing to learn had gone out of the window. He then just needed to be there for him in the way that he had not been when he and Jessie and Meowth had decided to quit Team Rocket for a better life for them all.

He did not know if he had made a better life for himself and judging by the state of him, he never would be able to tell him.

It was as if Jorginho had gained tunnel vision. All he then cared about was doing the right thing for James. And well, if there was Team Rocket and a boss waiting for him on the other side of all of that then he would deal with this then.

Even Giovanni could see when pushing was useless. And, of course, his mercurial self knew when releasing control would make the seizing of it even more powerful when the time was right.

One hand escaping his pocket to gesture for the two men to leave them alone which they did, it then fell back inside to be the mirroring twin before addressing Jorginho seriously.

He himself did not gaze at James once.

"Very well, Jorginho. If you are this set in your beliefs, then I will leave you to clean him up and tend to him." That hand appeared again as Giovanni gestured to another open hatch where someone else had been lurking, encouraging him in. "Prove to us both that you are worthy of your dreams." Four of them were in that interrogation room as he continued. "And prove to me that your kindness does not make you fragile. But I know that it does."

Giovanni practically whispered this last sentence. And then, like a wisp in the wind in spite of his stature, he left the room and it was just Jorginho left with James in his arms and a Team Rocket scientist who had been nervously observing the whole scene.

He had been there since the beginning and Jorginho suspected as much. It was this that made him turn towards him after he had lowered James back down to the ground, crouching with him there having just examined him with his own hands to see how bad the damage actually was.

"I swear to God if this is the end of him…" he trailed off, the urge to grit his teeth winning in the end rather than completing this sentence. He couldn't finish this sentence. He couldn't speak it aloud in case it came true. Jorginho continued examining James tenderly with his own hands while the scientist adjusted his glasses passively. "Why isn't he waking up?"

Icy cold fear shot like a rod through Jorginho's body as he examined James everywhere except for the wrists and the throat. He would get there. He would. But he was terrified of feeling no pulse.

James was soft. But he was stronger than that. His heart wouldn't just give up because of violence. It had to be something greater than that. It had to be something like-

Jorginho's mind wouldn't finish that rambling. The man with beard and round, tinted glasses knew that it was against orders but he couldn't let the bounty collector believe that life was edging from his friend.

The way he had clung to him and held him up told him everything that he had needed to know about a bond once shared.

"I had to prepare a sedative for him before he even arrived here." He confessed and this sent Jorginho's eyes straight over to him like a rabid creature catching a glimpse of its prey. One hand of his was cupping over James' and the other was feeling his own throat as if he was the one with no pulse. "Get him on the table and we can see what we can do."

Jorginho's eyes did not leave the sight of the scientist and they were full of skepticism. It was not because he saw no table in the empty room. It wasn't his first time in the interrogation room, both on the side of being interrogated and being the interrogator.

Needless to say, he was certain that there was no we in anything and that was final. Jorginho had making up to do. It was he who was going to right every single wrong – both the ones on that day and the ones in the past that had been casting a shadow over his skin for years. Or at least try.

"Giovanni is right about one thing and that is that it's up to me to prove there is more to me than anybody knows or ever knew." Jorginho said and the Team Rocket scientist watched from close to the wall after he had pressed a button and encouraged a white table out of the side of it.

He spied the way that Jorginho brushed James' hair out of his face before, with a grunt, but not because he was heavy, picked him back up again and laid him gently on the table.

The Team Rocket scientist pondered saying something – even anything – but then it dawned on him that his field of study made it imperative that he used his voice. It might end up too late otherwise.

"The sedative should have worn off by now but I'm sure he's experienced a lot of trauma to the body." Jorginho tried not to shudder. He instead focused as much as he could at tucking James' long hair that he had always had as far as Jorginho was aware behind both of his ears. When his hand was no longer occupied in this way, it rested under James' neck, making him as comfortable as possible. "What I can do is-"

So gentle Jorginho was being with James. Yet he was suddenly then very direct with the bearded man. It caused him to twitch into action.

"What you are going to do is this." Jorginho argued, his hand still cupping the back of James' neck and the two fingers of the other hand brushing over his throat so he could feel for himself that he was still with them even though he was seemingly refusing to come to. "You're going to leave this room and fetch me a set of the prototype armor from the armory." His order made itself known before his voice softened to a whisper, his finger trailing down James' neck even though his pulse had already been acknowledged. "I don't think he will wish to see me if he wakes up."

The scientist stood on those bowed legs of his for a couple of seconds, hesitating. He wasn't encouraged to hurry by Jorginho looking over at him or even barking at him because neither of these two things occurred.

All that occurred was Jorginho continuing to be there for James, unbeknownst to him. And it was this that finally made the scientist nod in compliance and head out of the room, fulfilling the instructions from the bounty collector.

He adjusted his glasses on his way. He had seen that look before. Loyalty so poisonous but so true nevertheless. He understood why Giovanni was so disheartened with him. His loyalties would always lie with James and Jessie and Meowth too no matter how long ago they had gone their separate ways.

Some ties could never be severed.

Jorginho did not like to cry. It wasn't because it made him feel weak, it just simply wasn't the way in which he cleansed himself of complicated emotions. But when he edged James in a specific way on the table so he could rest just one leg of his own on it, sitting there with him and hunching over him, he felt the urge to do exactly this.

The sensation of the desire to weep washed over him. But it did not come to fruition.

Rather, Jorginho swallowed an invisible mouthful of sand and he sat there, silent for a good few minutes, before reaching to wrap his own hand inside James' ones and waiting for his fingers to clasp around his in return. He hoped that they wouldn't straight away because he was certain that he would not wish to see him even if it had been close to ten years. But he hoped that they would at some point.

Jorginho did not realize he had been gasping for air for all of those years until James' hand was back inside his again and he could kid himself they were brothers once more. He felt like he could breathe again in spite of it all. He felt like he could breathe clearly even though he wished that things had been different.

Oh, how he wished that he had not been so stubborn. Giovanni was wrong; that was his weakness. He wished that he had shown support when Jessie, James and Meowth had dreams for their family outside of Team Rocket and he wished that he hadn't been so silly.

Giovanni was wrong about another thing. Jorginho wasn't strong at all. He was weak. But it was not his kindness that made him fragile. It was not his softness either. It was his hesitance to be truly vulnerable.

If only he had been able to say to Jessie, James and Meowth I am scared. If only he had been able to say that he was happy they were following the path meant for them, but he was so worried that he would be left behind. Forgotten. That they wouldn't stay in touch.

His inability to be honest with himself in this way and inability to be honest with them had put the wedge between them. And it had been his cowardice to forgo saying a proper goodbye to them that had cut the final tie, he believed.

Jorginho wanted to bawl when he thought of this. But he didn't.

Though a similar sort of noise erupted from his throat, it was concealed enough because it was followed by the creaking of the table as Jorginho hopped off from it to stand beside it instead before the scientist returned, still holding James' hand.

But he did not hold it for that much longer. He had something else he needed to do. He had something else he needed to say.

He had not been able to express his fragility and his fear all those years ago but now that he had believed that he could lose James for good and now that he was unconscious, he knew that he had to at least try a new way.

It would be weird in his own ears. But at least it was his ears and his ears alone. He had to try and do the right thing.

A hiccup jolted Jorginho's throat as both of his gloved hands cupped on either side of James' sleeping face. There was scarcely any light left in the room and Jorginho blocked any out from possibility streaking across his face. But he still appeared angelic. He still was as soft as he had always been.

Ethereal, Jorginho thought.

"You have to wake up, you hear me?" Jorginho whispered, his hands continually cupping James' cheeks and this paired with his eyes squeezing tightly shut as he pressed his forehead against his. "I need to let you know how weighed with regret I've been all of these years."

James knew how Jorginho felt but he could not express it in that particular moment because he still did not wake up. If his eyes had fluttered open, then another thing he would have felt was the tear that actually escaped from Jorginho's own eye and trickled down before plinking against his own eyelashes.

But he did not wake. So, he was unaware of this. And he was unaware of who had actually tended to him when he finally came to and a person with no voice clad in armor wordlessly showed him the way out of there when he was better and walked him home.

Jorginho needed James to know how sorry he had always felt. He needed him to know that he had thought of him and Jessie and Meowth and the children virtually every day since they parted. He needed him to know that he was the reason that he was still in Team Rocket. That he connected with him there, even if they could no longer connect anymore.

James would know eventually. Not on that day. Not for many years, in fact. Not until far more than just those violent wounds had closed up!

Giovanni was more wrong than anybody realized, you see. Jorginho's softness was his strength. As was his stubbornness, when used in the right way. He knew that paths would cross eventually and they did.

That is how we got this story. That is how I now know of it. And what a wonderful thing.

I don't know about Jorginho, but I certainly wouldn't change a single thing along the way if it meant that things could be the way they are right now.

Exactly as they are meant to be.

The End.

There you go, thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :) I can't believe that I wrote this story nearly a year ago. It was one of those amazing, creative moments that I don't get to have often these days where I daydreamed this up and wanted to write it immediately. And I had a free day so I got it all done! This has heavy influences of The Mandalorian, of course. Season 3, to be precise. It was airing at the time and poor old Din was being reprimanded for his decision to remove his helmet and I wanted to write about that being a rule for the bounty collectors in Team Rocket also - and Jorginho breaking that rule. Though I said that the subject matter of this fic doesn't wholly hint more of what is to come in 2024 (because I want to focus more on people other than Jorginho seeing as he has been focused on heavily in the past couple of years :D), it still does a bit. I think we can see here that Jorginho holds a candle for James and always will. Even though the word love takes a long time to crop up - not even when they are romantically together decades later - I think you can see here that there is no way that Jorginho doesn't feel that way for him. Giovanni is right in a way. James and the others are a weakness. But they are a strength also :) I really loved portraying evil Giovanni here too! I know the anime pokes fun of him at times and he's open to interpretation and even though I think there's even more evil going on in Team Rocket within secret ranks higher than even the boss, I wanted to show that he's not someone to mess with either. Especially when he has high hopes for you :P Thanks again for reading and I'll be back updating this story in March but Rocket Daze at the end of the month so maybe I'll see you there! Keep safe and well :3

Amy signing out!