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Jessie had a cold, and since the last cold medicine had been used on James a few weeks ago and no one bothered to get more… well, it was up to him and Meowth to get it. It was supposed to be a quick trip into town.
But when both arrive at the drugstore, James goes in alone while Meowth decides to wait outside as he gets into a conversation with a much younger Meowth who's sitting outside with a bedazzled green bowtie around its neck waiting for its trainer.
It was fine, Meowth was just killing time listening to Clover, as the Meowth introduced himself as, rant about his sister having evolved into a Persian recently and how she now takes all over their favorite spot of sunlight by the window, even laying on him if he's on the way.
He was just telling him to use her as the bed instead, see how she liked it, when a man appeared out of nowhere, staring at them both with a look Meowth knew all too well.
“Were you just talking?” Meowth's ear twitches at the human’s tone, a bad feeling curling around his stomach.
“Meow?” He tried, albeit a bit too nervous as he takes a step back.
“I definitely heard you talking.” The man said again, now more sure of himself as he pulls a PokeBall out, a Master PokeBall, Meowth freezes, heart skipping a beat, Clover next to him arching his back, fur standing on end as he lets out a warning growl towards the human, loud and threatening. Meowth greatly appreciated his help. But even he knows how hardly intimidating a little Meowth might seem to a human, even more so one that's on a leash, missing a leg and has the size of a shoe.
Meowth tries to make a run for it, cue word, tries.
“Houndoom, stop him!”
Something clamps shut on his leg, hard, he cries out as he crashes face first on the ground.
“Get off me!” He snaps at Houndoom as he turns, claws growing as he slashes the other Pokemon across the face, but it doesn't let go. It growls angrily as its bite becomes even harsher, yanking him with enough force to make him yowl in pain. A paw against his chest as claws dig into his skin, his free leg kicking against the other, scratching as he tries to manevour himself on the right angle to scratch his face again.
“Hey! Ugly! Let go of him!” Clover snarls as he tears his leash off with his teeth, tackling Houndoom, but the kid’s far too little to have any real strength against a seasoned Pokemon, he bounces right off, crashing on the ground face first. Meowth's gotta give it to the kid, he's got guts. “I said, let. Go!” Clover cried, standing back up and lunging back at the Houndoom, little teeth sinking onto one of his hind legs. The Houndoom kicked him, sending him flying off.
“Hold him, don't let him go.” The man orders, and Meowth feels his blood run cold as he watches, almost in slow motion, as the PokeBall hits him.
~
James was just stepping outside when he saw it.
As Meowth disappeared into a PokeBall. The little Meowth he had been speaking with when he last saw him was now growling and hissing at the man holding the PokeBall, biting his pant leg and looking like the incarnation of pure rage.
“Shut it! Houndoom, get rid of that thing at once!” The man snaps. And James reacted just in time to pull the Meowth off him when the Houndoom went for it, stepping back just at the nick of time. Who the hell even sends their Pokemon to attack one that's obviously less than a few weeks old? Who even leaves such a small Pokemon unattended?
“Clover!” A little girl appears running with a worried expression as the door from the drugstore opens, he figures she must be the trainer, thus he hands her the agitated Meowth once she's within reach.
“Hey! If you don't want someone punting that critter across the street you better teach it how to behave.” The man snaps at the girl, making her flinch and step back, the feline in her arms hissing and growling at him.
“Y-yes sir. Sorry sir.” She stammers, bowing at him before quickly running away in fear. James turns to him.
“What? Some brats need to learn.” He said, James makes a face.
“Actually, that Meowth you just captured was my friend, if you could please return him to me.” He tries to reason, stressed and tense as he is but doing his best to be reasonable, even if he feels anything but like being reasonable right now. The man scoffs, looking at him as if he just said the dumbest thing possible as he calls back his Houndoom.
“No way.”
“Please, sir. Just let him go.” He asks again as he reaches over for the Master PokeBall, however, the other man draws back with another louder scoff and shoves him back.
“You say it's yours? Too bad loser! Everyone knows wild Pokemon are free game! If you liked it so much you should have captured it!”
“Give him back!” He snaps back, losing his patience at last, trying to take it again, and when the other side steps and shoves him, this time harder, prompting him to trip over and fall before he runs off…
Red overtakes him as fury fuels him, fingers curling into fists as he scrambles to his feet immediately, chasing him with a racing heart and one single thought in mind. Get Meowth back. He ignores the car horns as he crosses the street impulsively, skillfully jumping over a fence as a shortcut, nothing but the thought of getting Meowth back racing through his head. He can't afford to lose sight of this guy. If he does he will never forgive himself, Jessie will never forgive him, and Meowth…
He manages to tackle the man near a park, both crashing on the floor before he immediately pins him, Team Rocket's training coming in hand like nothing he ever even considered as he expertly pins him against the ground, yanking him by the neck of his shirt with one hand while he holds the other out, fury in his eyes as he regards him coldly.
“Give me that PokeBall. Now.” He orders, voice low and threatening, something fierce bubbling beneath his flesh. The man swats his hand.
“Like hell! Piss off!” He grits his teeth, his grip on the man tightening.
“You-”
“Team Rocket!” His head whips around as he stares down at the twerps, glaring at them, for once, not feeling a single glimpse of kindness or amusement. Just pure anger. He's not in the mood to play nice. Eyes narrowing dangerously.
“Hey man, there's no need for violence, I’m sure we can all solve this peacefully.” Brock quickly tries to appease as he raises his hands in surrender, because this is definitely wrong in way too many ways.
He's known Team Rocket long enough to know that James was the most docile of the three, the one most likely to help them or someone else first if it came to it. He didn't do anger. Less much the kind of anger he looked to be in right now.
Brock's positive this is the first time he's seen anyone at all so downright furious and threatening. He didn't even think he could pull off looking so genuinely dangerous. The group had seen it from afar, the speed and ease at which he subdued that guy felt like a harsh reminder that Team Rocket had to have some sort of training outside Pokemon fights regardless of how ridiculous James and Jessie acted most of the time.
Point was. Whatever happened must have been real bad to get such a reaction from the least hostile person Brock's ever met. And where's Jessie and Meowth?
“Don't stand there! Get this crazy bastard off me!” The other man snaps.
“He caught Meowth in a Master Ball.” James states when Brock takes a step forward, those words making the group halt momentarily. What? And it's then that they realize why he's so angry, but there's also so much more. And oh Arceus. Master Balls were supposed to catch wild Pokemon without fail. Whether the Pokemon agreed or not it would be caught. And Meowth was-
Ash glowers at the man before stalking over, kneeling down and patting him down.
“Hey! Get your hands off me you brat! What are you doing?!”
“Capturing Pokemon without a battle or against their will is wrong!” Ash snaps back hastily as he finally finds the Master Ball.
He doesn't take it personally when James snatches it away and quickly jerks away from the other guy, activating the PokeBall and releasing Meowth who the group watches materialize, for once, the cat doesn't even talk or move as he collapses on the ground, fur standing on end all over his body, tail puffed out and ears flat against his head as he stands frozen in place.
James smashes the PokeBall on the ground which bursts into a dozen pieces before quickly going over to the cat, kneeling before him and reaching over to grab his shoulders, prompting Meowth to flinch violently.
“Are you okay?” James asks, concerned, he can feel Meowth shaking, can see the way his eyes are wide and terrified in a way that makes his heart clench, and he doesn't take it personal when the feline lodges his claws on his arm as he reaches for him. “It's alright. I smashed it. You are free now, no more PokeBall, I promise.” He assures. Meowth doesn't answer, but he does blink before meeting his gaze, he looks so spooked, he's never seen him so terrified. And is that blood on his leg? It looks painful and deep.
It makes even more anger curl around his chest, jaw set tight. He gives the other man a look of sheer disdain, threatening and hateful.
“Hey, come on man, it's a talking Meowth. You are obviously wasting its potential. How much do you want for it?” The man says as he stands up, the audacity. And when he has the nerve to reach towards Meowth, James swats his hand away violently, quickly picking Meowth up and taking a step back, wincing at the claws that dig into his shoulders, but he doesn't care, the only thing that matters right now is getting Meowth away from this guy.
“He is not for sale.” He snaps back as he holds the cat protectively against his chest, voice cold and absolute.
“What about a battle? Whoever wins gets to-”
“No. You can't have him, nobody can.” He cuts off harshly, this before he turns around, he's not listening to more of this ridiculousness, however, the man didn't care to count his lucky stars, for he actually grabbed James' arm.
And he will blame it on anger and how on edge he was right now, but he reacted on reflex, he reacted before his mind as he turned around and punched him, fist connecting with his nose without remorse with enough force to make the other stumble back with a curse. Blood bursting out. His wrist hurt, but he didn't care, he was done with this guy. The man holds his nose, anger in his gaze as he takes a step forward.
To James' shock, the twerps actually stood before him, arms spread defensively as if to shield him, Pikachu standing infront with electricity crackling.
“This has nothing to do with you! Piss off!”
“No, you walk away. That Meowth doesn't belong to you nor does he want to go with you.” Ash says hastily.
“Yeah, you can't ask people to sell their friends nor force others to be with you. So, walk away. Now.”
The man glowers at them before ultimately stalking off with his bleeding nose. The trio turns to James who's staring at them as if they grew another head.
“Why-? I mean… thank you.” He conceded.
“It was the right thing to do.” Ash states.
“And he was being a jerk.” May adds. Max glanced at the trembling cat clinging to James, face buried against his chest and claws visibly latched onto his shoulders. That's definitely gotta be hurting.
“Is he alright?”
“Yeah… he will be fine.” James assures, even if he's never seen Meowth this terrified before. He never even considered he would react like this to a PokeBall, but again, he could understand it, the terror of having your freedom so easily snatched away from you, the impotence and weakness of being unable to stop others from binding you to their will.
“He's hurt.” Brock observes, noticing the wound on Meowth’s left leg. “I can help with that.”
James is tempted to just leave, but he's seen the twerp's Pokemon medicine, it works wonders, and this kind of wound feels like the kind that would be better off treated by someone who knows what they are doing, like Jessie, but she's sick. So, albeit hesitant, he agrees, which is how he ends up sitting on a bench with Meowth sitting on his lap and still clinging to him while Brock sits next to him, pulling out his first aid kit.
He's quick but careful as he cleans the wound, it's deep, but at least it's not deep enough to leave lasting damage, as he treats the wound though he can't help but wonder, not for the first time, where did Meowth come from, a talking Pokemon, how could he speak? Was he born like that or was he taught? Did he ever have a trainer? His reaction to the PokeBall left a lot of questions in the air.
But most Pokemon who were abused or abandoned didn't like being around humans. It took a lot of time to get them back to trusting people, Jessie and James hardly treat him like a Pokemon unless it's convenient. It had taken Brock a while to realize Meowth was neither Jessie's or James’, Meowth has left clear several times how he felt about being seen as someone's Pokemon.
So he might have never had a trainer to begin with, maybe he's overthinking and Team Rocket's responsible for his ability to talk, regardless of Jessie and James being… well, Jessie and James, Brock's seen how vile that organization can be, they literally don't hesitate to experiment on Pokemon. But again, if that was the case, he doesn't think Meowth would stay nor Jessie and James would treat him as they do.
Also, if Team Rocket had hurt him he doesn't think Meowth would be clinging to James as he's been doing since he left the PokeBall, completely trusting that he would protect him from anything that might try harming him, which considering what James just did, Brock was sure that was the case. At least his expression had gone back to normal.
No one who cares so much about their friends can be truly evil. He can't help but think as he finishes dressing the wound.
“There, avoid putting too much pressure on it for a few days and you should be fine.” Brock informs. Meowth turns to look at his bandaged leg for a moment, blinking as he shifts it a bit, it doesn't hurt as badly as before.
“Thank you.” He conceded after a moment, voice nothing but a whisper before he's turning back to James. “I wanna go back to the cabin now.” He exclaims, words muffled against the other's shirt, he knows the PokeBall is shattered, he knows that as long as James' here he will be fine, but he still feels like he might just die if he stays any longer under prying eyes and such open spaces. He wants to go somewhere where he can breathe, safe, away. Just until he can get his bearings together.
“Alright.” James said, shifting Meowth just enough to hold him against his chest, his grip on him firm but gentle as he stood up. He turns back to the twerps. “Uhm, thank you.”
“Don't mention it. We just did what was right.” Brock states matter of fact. Sure, Team Rocket's bad, but that doesn't mean they wouldn't help them whenever the situation calls for it, just like they have helped them.
As the group watches them leave, Max frowns.
“Wait, where was Jessie?”
*BONUS*
“Jessie, wait!” James shouts as he throws himself across the cabin, arms latching around Jessie's mid as he tries and fails to hold her back, but she's still way too strong for someone with a very bad cold.
“Get off me James! I will find and beat up that cretin so much not even his parents will recognize him! Will shove my foot so far up his-!”
“But you are sick!” He cuts her off as she tries to get his arms off without avail. Maybe telling her about what happened so soon wasn't a good idea.
But how else was he supposed to explain the bandage on Meowth's leg or the reason behind the cat in question deciding to take residence under the bed Jessie had been resting on? Not a word out of his mouth?
“Just stay here! I already handled it, he's gone and Meowth's alright!” He tries to appease, she turns to him, glaring down at him, both holding each other's stares for a long, long time before she ends up sighing.
“Fine.” He hesitates for a moment before releasing her. “You sure he's been handled?”
“Yes.” Jessie hums before ultimately turning around and walking back to the room, she might feel like absolute shit, but no one messes with her team and gets to leave untouched, but she would rather not make a bigger deal of it if Meowth's been this affected.
She snatches the blanket off the bed, throwing it around her shoulders before plopping down on the floor next to the bed where she knows Meowth is. It takes no longer than a few seconds before he's emerging from under the bed and crawling under the blanket, settling on her lap without a word. She rests her hand on his back, and after a moment of consideration she starts moving her hand, giving him light pats.
James appears after a while and sits next to her on the floor, neither says a word, they just stay there, they fall asleep, uncomfortable and definitely bound to wake up with very sore necks and back, yet unwilling to move. A little pain is worth it if with it they can bring some comfort to a friend.