Chapter Text
James was hiding in the hedge maze.
He'd found that while Jessebelle was passionate, driven, and clever, she also had a short attention span. Used to getting her way with minimal persuasion, of solving problems with little thought, she gave up easily if success didn't come quickly.
So James, who was frail, cowardly, and not nearly as bright, had taken to convincing Jessebelle to play hide and seek when she wanted entertainment. If there was one thing he was good at, it was avoiding notice. It was the original reason for his parents acquiring Growlie, in the hopes a creature with a keen nose would be better than the servants at rooting out James' hiding places when he didn't want to be found. It was a constant source of irritation to them that the Growlithe had proven more loyal to James than them, and was very good at pretending he had no idea where James was.
In any case, the fact that nine times out of ten, Jessebelle would give up before she found James, made the whole exercise worth it (even if the tenth time involved an unpleasant reminder of Jessebelle's creativity).
So here he was, ducked into a tiny hollow of one of the walls, hidden behind an urn holding a flowering Berry Tree (there were servants whose job it was to pluck any berry that might appear before wild Pokemon could get to them), tucked up in a tight ball. It had been easier to fit even a year or two ago; the stiff branches were digging into his neck, leaves boxing him in so tight his clothes would be ruined when he reappeared. He was listening, as keenly as he could, for the sign of any approach, but there was only the dead silence of the hedge maze (his parents believed a well-run world involved keeping Pokemon in their place, and that place was not in their gardens).
Which is why, when someone shoved aside the urn, James yelped and retreated so fast the branches dragged across his face and clothes, leaving a familiar stinging that indicated he was bleeding, and that his jacket was likely torn. His heart was racing, though, at the sight of a figure crouched over him, red hair atop a delicate form.
But the eyes, bright blue, and smile, wide, open, were unfamiliar.
"I found you!" the child declared.
"What?" James stuttered. His heart was skipping, uncertain if it should keep panicking, or calm, finding no threat. The child looked so much like Jessebelle, they must be a relative (there was terror at the thought of there being dozens of people like Jessebelle, as there were Joys, and Jennys, a vast family of clever, cruel women).
"I found you," the other child repeated. "You were playing hide and seek, weren't you?" They rocked back on their heels, grin as wide and bright as when they'd found James. They looked up at the top of the hedges before the grin faded to a thoughtful frown; their tongue stuck out as they thought. "There isn't anyone else to find, is there?"
"N...no," James agreed at last.
"Good! Then I've won!" the other child declared. They hopped up, grabbing the urn for a moment for balance, and grinned down at James. "It's my turn to hide, then!"
"I - what?"
The child rolled their eyes. "That's how the game goes - you hide and I try to find you, and when I do, I hide. And no cheating, using Pokemon."
Having found no indication the child was going to tell Jessebelle they'd found him, James twisted around for the leverage to crawl out of the bushes, and stand, frowning as he discovered he'd been right, and his jacket and pants were both torn. A gasp from the other child, though, drew his attention.
They held one hand over their mouth, eyes wide and fixed on his face, an expression so unfamiliar James couldn't put name to it.
"You're hurt!" they declared.
"Oh, I guess." James brushed a hand on his cheek, finding a smear of blood along it. "I'll be fine."
"Of course you will!" the other child announced, "because you're in the care of Nurse Jessie!" From the pockets of their loose coveralls, dark grey and a little stained (and the fact they were wearing something like that should have made it clear they weren't Jessebelle), the other child, Jessie, produced a handful of bandages and a small bottle of sharp-smelling liquid. They stepped up next to James, looked down at their full hands, before handing James the bandages. "Hold still," they commanded. "It'll sting a little, but that only means you'll feel better later!" They produced a bright white rag and poured out some of the liquid onto it, and then pressed it against James' face.
It did sting, but James didn't make any noise, or flinch away, as Jessie brushed the rag against what he supposed must be his cuts. The stinging, sharp and exact like needles, faded after a few moments, though, at which point Jessie took the bandages from him and, tongue stuck out in concentration, stuck them over his cuts. It took only a few moments, but when it was over, Jessie pulled back and gave a sharp nod. "There! Are you feeling better?"
James reached up to his face, finding no exposed cut, no blood when he drew his hand away. And the pain - well, it was no more than he was used to, and Jessie seemed so certain they'd helped, so he nodded. "It's fine."
"I'm glad!"
Jessie took a step back before holding out their hand. "I'm Jessie," they said.
"James," James offered.
---
Jessie, as it turned out, was related to Jessebelle, a distant cousin sent to live with Jessebelle's family after Jessie's parents died (vanished, Jessie insisted of her mother, an issue James didn't press). And despite that - being an orphan, and not allowed to dress in fancy clothes or attend parties or, it seemed, be paid attention to at all by Jessebelle or her parents - Jessie was a cheerful girl. She wanted to be a nurse, or an idol, or a Pokemon master, or a princess, if all else failed.
Today was her eleventh birthday. There had been no party, as there had been when Jessebelle turned twelve three months earlier, and no presents, like the small mountain of boxes presented to James on his eleventh birthday just last week.
But she was still smiling when she met him at the center of the hedge maze (they knew its twists and dead ends by heart, by now, so they could almost run it blindfolded, albeit at the risk of enough injury that Jessie wouldn't allow it). It was just about dusk, the shadows of the hedges casting the maze into full darkness, except for when Growlie, sitting, a warm, fuzzy shape next to James, exhaled, small puffs of flame illuminating the small central alcove with flickers of light. Jessie was in a worn pair of jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt, white with a red rose on it, somehow looking prettier than Jessebelle in her expensive dresses and three hours of hair and makeup every morning.
James hadn't been certain how to go about this, so he stood (a gentleman always stood for a lady) and shoved his hand out toward Jessie. "Happy birthday," he said.
Jessie stared for a moment. "What is this?"
"It's a Pokeball." Technically, it was a Luxury Ball; Jessebelle had spent much of her birthday party expounding on how only common trash had Pokemon in anything but the best Pokeballs. James, though, had been more impressed by the claims that the relaxing environment within the Pokeball made the Pokemon more relaxed and more likely to befriend their trainers. Not, he corrected quickly in his mind, that he was worried any Pokemon wouldn't like Jessie, just that one never knew, and he would hate to find his birthday present made Jessie sad at all.
"It's for you," he added, in case there was any confusion.
"For...me?" Jessie repeated. Her voice sounded strange, and when she looked up at James, her eyes shone with tears.
James' stomach twisted, his heart leapt, and he froze, uncertain if he should come in for a hug or back off. "It doesn't have to be, if you don't like it! I know some people don't feel comfortable with Pokemon-"
"No! I - I'd really love it. Whatever it is." Jessie stepped forward, hand pausing as it passed over the Pokeball. James lifted his hand so she could take it, turn the gold-edged black Pokeball over in her hands, examining the red band, the smooth texture of a Pokeball only used once, and not thrown. Suddenly she looked back up, face back in a more familiar expression, one of wide-eyed excitement, smiling wide, open-mouthed. "What is it?" she demanded.
"You can open it and find out," James retorted. "After all, it's your Pokemon."
Jessie froze, gaze dropping back to the Pokeball. "Mine," she whispered.
With surprising suddenness, she pressed the button to release the enclosed Pokemon. James found himself holding his breath as the capture field released the Pokemon he'd spent weeks hunting for in the nearby forest, red light clearing to reveal a pink, egg-shaped creature, colored like a smiling, dimpled child, tugging at the pouch about their waist. They looked up to Jessie and grinned.
"Happ!"
"Oh - oh my!" Jessie declared. "A Happiny?"
"Piny!" the Happiny replied.
Jessie burst into tears.
James should have expected it, really. He was certain Jessie could make a wonderful nurse, and what nurse didn't have a trusty Chansey at their side at all times? And for all the smiling she did, she wasn't treated well by her cousin's family.
Still, he didn't doubt Jessie was happy with the gift, even if the Happiny made worried chirps at her until she calmed.
At last, Jessie wiped her eyes and turned to James, smiling. "This was the best birthday present I've ever gotten," she announced, which James had suspected, it being the only present she'd received since he'd known her.
"Good. It took hours to convince this Happiny to let me catch her for someone else."
"Oh, really?" Jessie crouched down to meet the Happiny at her level. "Were you worried I'd be mean?"
"No! I told her you were-" James faltered when Jessie looked up at him, eyes bright, curious. "Very...nice," he concluded.
"Happi!" the Happiny added.
Jessie smiled, a gentle expression, at the Pokemon. "I'm happy to hear that. Now, what should I name you?"
"Ppi pi!"
Jessie tilted her head, frowning a little, sticking out her tongue. "No, I don't think so. Oh! How about Mercy?"
The Happiny clapped her hands, which James took as a good sign.
---
"Let's get out of here." It was James' thirteenth birthday party, and Jessie had engineered a distraction so James could find his way to the hedge maze. She was sitting at the edge of the fountain in one of the corner alcoves, filled with water scented so wild Pokemon wouldn't drink it. Because James had insisted on her attendance, she was wearing a calf-length dress instead of whatever used clothing her...cousin, or aunt, or whatever found for her. It was technically an ankle-length dress, but being Jessebelle's and a year old, ended a little below her knees. Jessie, however, wore it without complaint. The dark blue fabric was crumpled where Jessie was sitting on it, because it was a dress for standing around in, being seen in.
"You already got us out of the party," James replied. They had a good hour before anyone would look to get him to cut the cake, which was the best he could hope for.
"I meant here," Jessie replied, waving her arm expansively.
"The hedge maze? It's the only place we can avoid everybody."
"No. Here. Your house. My house. Get out into the world!"
"Oh." James stepped back, only to find he still felt like he was standing at the edge of the roof of the northwest wing tower (he couldn't remember what they had been trying to discover at the time, but how much it hurt to break his arm was presumably not it), dizzy and aware of a gulf stretched out below him. "I…"
"If you stay here, you're going to marry Jessebelle and become a useless old man," Jessie replied.
"Yes, but…"
But the world was large and dangerous. It was full of criminals and dangerous Pokemon. James didn't know how to cook or do laundry or anything he was certain he wouldn't have servants to do for him if he left home.
Jessie was watching him, eyes focused, knowing, and then she shook her head. "But what? Kids go on Pokemon journeys when they're ten, sometimes with Pokemon a lot worse than Growlie and Mercy."
But if James left, he was certain he wouldn't get to come home again. Jessie...Jessie didn't have a home, really. She had a place to stay while her cousins tolerated her, and he was certain they'd kick her out as soon as it wouldn't seem heartless to do so. James had…
James had parents who mostly ignored him, a hedge maze he used to hide from Jessebelle in, Growlie, and Jessie.
If Jessie left, it'd just be Growlie.
So James pushed his fear away, as deep as he could manage, and nodded at Jessie, putting on the bravest smile he could manage.
"Let's do it!"
---
A voice filtered through the patter of rain against the top of Meowth's temporary shelter (he could hear the dry 'tink' of rain bouncing away giving way to the dull 'thud' of water sticking to the surface of the box, suggesting his shelter would shortly stop providing cover from the storm).
"Look at this!"
Faint footsteps against the pavement grew louder. "It's a Meowth. They're not exactly the rarest Pokemon."
"But he's all alone!" The first voice sounded - pained, a little watery, like the human it belonged to was going to cry. Strange. Meowth couldn't recall seeing any another Meowth out there, or at least none worth that sort of emotion.
"So? That doesn't mean he's lonely. We can't take every Pokemon you think needs a friend with us, James." That other voice was sharper, a little colder.
"But he's cold, and wet! Or will be, anyway, when that box gives in." Another few steps and a human face was peering in at Meowth, blue hair framing a slim face that was smiling at Meowth. "Hello! Am I right? Are you all alone? Or is Jessie right, and you're just a lone Meowth who doesn't need any company?"
"Ah-" Meowth paused, trying to remember how a normal Meowth would respond. A purr of some sort - how did that go? 'Ow'? Or he could just nuzzle the human's face; that was a sign of affection, right?
Meowth stood, and the human's expression shifted, into a strange frown, and Meowth froze. He'd forgotten, of course, that it wasn't just talking like a human that made him a freak. The human face vanished, and Meowth slumped against the walls of his temporary shelter. Of course. He'd hoped for a moment-
"Trained, Jessie! He's been abandoned! Look!"
Another face, framed by red braids, and frowning, deeper than the other human's, appeared, taking in Meowth's stance, his frame, and her frown...eased, somewhat.
"He is malnourished," the second human agreed. "We can take him to the Pokemon Center, and ask if he's got an owner, and then, only if he's really on his own, we can take him with us."
"Really?"
The red-haired human's face paled, expression freezing, and Meowth realized the surprised voice, the pleased, needy declaration, had been his voice.
"Um...Meow?" he tried.