Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Even for early March, it was a brisk day. Still, the snow, which had been abnormally persistent that year, had finally melted. The air hung nippy but steady in the mid-50s, and the mountain springs above Blackthorn City were ever flowing with clean, freshly melted water. Cold, cold water, but clean.

For Silver, clean was enough. Because frankly, he stunk.

He was always cautious, but on a chilly day like this, with as far into the wilderness he was, he really doubted anyone would interrupt him. So, for the first time in several weeks, he shakily unbuttoned his ratty, reeking jacket. The air bit goosebumps into his arms as he reluctantly peeled off the rest of his meager wardrobe until he stood shaking in the buck. Not one to delay the inevitable, he steeled himself and slid in with a splash.

Considering the guttural dying-Rattata sound that left his mouth afterwards, he was doubly glad no one was around. It was embarrassing enough that his Pokemon could probably hear it from their balls.

With a sigh, he released them one by one. He honestly would have rather been alone right now, but his Pokemon also needed bathing. He was pretty sure Sneasel had rolled in something dead recently because he could barely stand to be within a whiff of it.

As always, they regarded him with wary caution. He wasn't sure why it annoyed him so, he had not attempted to foster a loving relationship with them and he did not intend to. And he definitely was not jealous of the way Lyra's Pokemon nuzzled up to her like big sentient plush toys. Gross.

"Bathe yourselves." He commanded. He was met with a variety of reactions, but they all sort of followed his directions in their own ways. That was typical. The only time they listened wholeheartedly was when he was calling out attacks.

Meganium was a serious Pokemon, stalwart loyalty devoid of affection. Even shivering, it dipped its long head into the water and rinsed the dirt from its scales. The others followed suite. Magnemite spun around until it shone and Golbat whipped up a current to wash its teeth and wings. Silver watched as Kadabra painstakingly groomed its luxurious mustache with a pinecone. What an odd Pokemon.

With Kadabra's recent addition, his was on week three of having a complete Pokemon team. It'd been almost seven months since he'd stolen Chikorita from Elm.

Silver didn't know what to make of his newest Pokemon. He knew he'd needed a psychic-type- they were strong- but they were also... very odd. But he'd thought Haunter had been odd too, so maybe he could get used to it. Kadabra was painstakingly polite if nothing else, and its Psybeam was a killer.

Silver was shaken from his thoughts as water splashed him. Sneasel gave an annoying giggle and Silver glared daggers.

"Get in the water, you stupid weasel. Don't just kick your feet around. You're an Ice-type, aren't you?"

Sneasel ignored him, examining its long claws. Sometimes, in dark moments, Silver wondered if those claws would ever been turned on him. Sneasel could a bit of a clown and somehow even Silver's mean-spirited banter pacified it well enough, but it was the least obedient Pokemon in his possession. It didn't really feel like his.

Naturally, considering it really wasn't. Perhaps he'd made a mistake swiping it. It had been one thing to gank an untrained beginner Pokemon from Elm's lab. Chikorita was hardly bonded to the professor, and was probably bored out of its skull most days until Silver had taken it, if Meganium's love of battling was anything to go by. But Sneasel? It'd had an actual trainer. A spineless, milquetoast sort of a guy that actually thought he could take on the Cianwood gym with a Dark/Ice Pokemon, but Sneasel had seemed bonded with its previous trainer well enough.

Silver often caught Sneasel seeming unhappy and lonely when it thought he wasn't looking. He tried to ignore it. He had too many damn things on his mind to worry about Sneasel. If it became a nuisance, he could just drop it off in the cold. It thrived in the cold, right?

Silver mused that maybe he thrived in the cold too, but this water was testing his patience, as was the watered down bottle of shampoo that he'd forced to last months. His hair was so greasy and tangled that building up any kind of lather in this cold water was impossible. He hoped he'd at least be presentable enough after all of this to venture down the mountain for some more battling. Even more than training, he really, really needed some prize money. He'd had to resort to letting his Pokemon hunt to feed themselves most days. Magnemite, Meganium and Haunter had unusual diets that were surprisingly easier to fulfill. Sneasel and Golbat often returned with wounds, and sometimes he wondered if they would return at all.

Sometimes a part of him wishes they wouldn't. Not because he wanted something bad to happen, but he wouldn't be too torn up if they ran away. Still, he couldn't justify having fewer Pokemon, not with Lyra still somehow besting him in battle every time they met, but he was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

Six Pokemon were not a walk in the park to take care of. Doubly so when you were a homeless twelve-year old living between different stretches of woods without a cent to your name. And right on the tail end of winter, which Silver considered to be his own personal hell. Winter, when no berries grew and every flat surface was wet, cold or both. When starving packs of Houndoom roamed the woods at night in search of anything with a pulse. He couldn't remember when exactly the last time he'd eaten was, and that was not an exaggeration. It must have been weeks. He could barely afford the occasional Potion or container of Pokemon kibble, let alone a luxury like human food.

He waded to the edge of the spring and laid his head on his hands, trying to power through a hunger pang that was suddenly cramping his insides. He felt himself deflate a bit. God, he was so *hungry*.

His stomach growled loudly enough that all heads turned in his direction. Sneasel gave that annoying, raspy laugh again, and Silver silenced it with a cold splash to the face before returning to his shampooing attempt, blushing heavily.

"Finish up already, Sneasel. Once I'm done here we have to look for shelter and firewood. I'm not waiting for you."

Sneasel huffed and Silver huffed back. As he lathered his body with the residual shampoo, he suddenly heard the sound of footsteps. He instinctively started to sink down, hoping to hide, but realized this was a futile action with all six of his Pokemon out. He sunk down so that only the top half of his head was visible and glared at the approaching intrusion, oblivious to the fact that he looked more like a wet Meowth than anything remotely threatening.

Lance, the Lance, dragon master, current Indigo League champion and general pain-in-the-ass stared back at him. The sharp intake of air was mutual.

"Ah- Hello there, young man!" Lance said with some strange salute-like pose, whipping around his stupid cape with the sharp movement of his arm. Doubly stupid-looking considering the other hand held a picnic basket. "It seems we meet ag- GAH!" The picnic basket dropped from his hands and he covered his eyes with his cape, almost like a child might. "Y-you're naked!"

"I'm bathing." Silver deadpanned, annoyed. He was relieved that there was no threat, at least. Just the current clown of a champion who absolutely did not deserve such a title.

"Ah geez... I hope no one's around, this is really bad ops..." Lance whispered to himself beneath his cape.

Silver rolled his eyes. "I can still hear you. What are you worried about anyway? You can only see my head and nobody's around. I'm not even sure why you're here."

Silver thought that would be enough for Lance to get the hint and beat it, but the young man simply turned away from Silver and continued to speak. "I am here to have a picnic with my Pokemon! I've always thought this part of the mountain was strikingly beautiful this time of year!"

'This guy is way too chatty...' Silver thought, annoyed. "Good for you."

Lance was silent for a moment. "It's awfully cold today, though."

"Mm-hmm."

"I mean, it must barely be 50 degrees. I bet the water is even colder than that."

"Yep."

Lance cleared his throat. "Er... what I mean to say is, and don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think you are being safe right now."

Silver felt his eye twitch in irritation. "What's it to you, anyway? Go have your little picnic somewhere else. This is kind of a private activity, you know."

"Ah... that's... sort of the part I don't understand. Why are you bathing all the way out here? Surely you must be freezing..."

"I am. But I'm dirty. So..." Silver shrugged.

Lance remained silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. "... I see... Are you... on a camping trip?"

Silver huffed out a dry laughed, which Sneasel mimicked. "You could say that."

Lance was silent again. Silver dunked his head to rinse it, but had to steady himself when the movement made black spots appear in his vision. When he opened his eyes Lance had turned back around.

"Hello? Privacy?"

"S-sorry, I promise I didn't see anyth-"

Silver's stomach took this moment to interrupt the other trainer with an inhuman thunderclap of a growl. Silver blushed and Lance laughed heartily. "Do you and your Pokemon care to join us for our picnic? I packed plenty of food."

The temptation was undeniable, but Silver had a reputation to uphold. "My Pokemon don't play nice at meal times. You don't want them at your little picnic. Trust me, if they aren't in their balls, some of them will take the food from under your nose."

Lance frowned slightly. "Are they poorly trained? Pokemon should be able to control themselves at mealtime."

"They're trained to battle. They aren't pets."

Lance was fully turned to him now, glaring. Silver cowered ever so slightly. "Your Pokemon are not mere battle tools! They're living beings with emotions and needs. You should treat them with respect, they may not be pets but they aren't weapons for you to command, either." He glanced around at Silver's motley group of Pokemon. The were scarred, unkempt, and a bit too skinny. He quashed the surge of anger and kept his voice level. "They're thin. And they have wounds. When was the last time you fed them? Used a potion? Took them to the Pokemon center? They're in awful condition."

Silver felt red hot indignation rise in his chest. As the champion, Lance had everything. How dare he judge Silver, who had to scrape for every single thing he had?

"They're fine. What's it to you, anyway?" Silver said coolly, his tone deceiving his anger.

Lance, on the other hand, seemed to be done playing nice. "What's it to me? That's all you have to say? What's it to you, Silver? You just... let your Pokemon starve, and their wounds fester? Not a care in the world?"

Silver scoffed. "Yeah, I love keeping my Pokemon in terrible shape. But since you insist, maybe I'll go to the nearest Full Restore tree and pick a few off the branches! Maybe I'll even score some free Pokemon kibble while I'm there." He dripped with venom and sarcasm.

Lance's blood was boiling. "Don't you dare give me that, you irresponsible brat! You're their trainer! You just... expect them to fight for you without even the slightest consideration of their well-being? That's sickening. You should be embarrassed." He spat. "Is neglecting them convenient for you?"

Silver had had absolutely enough. "Don't you DARE lecture me! Every coin I get goes straight to Pokemon food and healing items! You think I don't know you have to spend money on them? I feed them WHEN I CAN!" He yelled, partially emerging from the water in his anger. "'Convenient'? For me? Nothing is convenient for me, for us!" Silver barked, gesturing to the Pokemon around him. "They're fighters! They hunt so they don't starve! What do you think Pokemon do in the wild, hold hands? ...Huh? Answer me! Don't just make accusations and then stare at me like a dead Magikarp!"

Lance was indeed staring, but not really listening. He was staring wildly at the sheer emaciation of Silver's scarred torso, littered with bruising. His shoulder bones were visible, though he held his skeletal arms with a posture of strength and ferocity. Lance could count his ribs from several feet away. The teen looked tiny. Had... had he always looked like that underneath his baggy clothing?

Beginning to feel a bit self-conscious, Silver dropped back into the cold water. "W-what?"

Lance tried to force his throat to work, but his words failed him.

Chapter Text

It took Lance embarrassingly long to regain a cool head. He started several sentences and ended them just as quickly. What was he supposed to say in a situation like this? Other than, perhaps, absolutely none of the completely uninformed tirade he’d just unleashed on the teen, but… could’ve, would’ve, should’ve.

By this point, not only Silver, but all six of the boy’s Pokemon were all staring at him wildly, clearly wondering what in the world he was attempting to say. Lance felt like a paradox of icy clamminess and flustered heat. 

“You’re… too skinny…” Was the thing he finally stammered out awkwardly, his tongue as limp as a Wimpod.

“This dumb conversation is a waste of time.” Silver said with a huff. He dunked his head again and casually began to wring the water from his only slightly less tangled and greasy mop of hair.

Did he… even realize what Lance had just seen? Silver only seemed a little confused and a lot annoyed at Lance’s reaction. 

“Seriously, are you having a stroke or something right now?”

“I- surely you must understand how this looks from my perspective, Silver…” Lance forced out breathily. Silver squinted.

“Your perspective? What are you on about? You want to talk about perspective? First you lay into me like I’m evil incarnate, then suddenly you’re just… opening and closing your stupid mouth like a Goldeen. And the best insult you can come up with is that I’m skinny? Yeah, okay.” Silver gave a disbelieving laugh. “I guess the cape should have been the first clue, but you’re nuts.”

It occurred to Lance that this was maybe the most unapologetically disagreeable person he’d ever met, outside of the ranks of Team Rocket. Lance didn’t lose his compassion to anger, but just enough irritation was seeping through to take him out of his shock.

“It wasn’t an insult. You’re emaciated , Silver.” Lance knelt down with a sigh, running his fingers through the water. Just as he suspected, cold enough that Silver ought to be in shock. How was he so unphased? The state of his own body, the conditions he lived in… Lance couldn’t fathom that this was just a Wednesday for someone. “You… you must be freezing cold, Silver. Your body has no insulation, you really need to get out of that water before you become hypothermic…”

Silver scoffed. “What, did you get bored of reaming me out? And sure, mom,” Silver spat bitterly, clearly disgusted by any form of adult concern, “I’ll get out of the water. I would love to, actually, if you’d just turn around ! How am I supposed to get out when you keep staring like I’m some kind of freakshow?”

“I- I’m sorry, okay? It’s just… I wasn’t expecting…” Lance trailed off with a sigh. 

Silver exchanged a glance with his Sneasel, who had stopped lazily kicking its feet in the water. Silver didn’t really get it, why his own poor condition would matter to a big shot like Lance, but clearly the man was much more vulnerable right now than he’d been five minutes ago. 

All of his doubts about Sneasel dissipated as he took in the Pokemon’s sneering grin. He knew he didn’t even need to explain the plan he’d started hatching- the weasel’s mischievous sneer said it all.

A natural thief, just like his trainer. 

“You know, I’m actually feeling… almost too cold to move.” Silver muttered. He honestly didn’t have to play it up very much, it was more of an understatement than a lie.

“What can I do? Tell me how I can help.” Lance said, dutifully. Silver almost felt bad.

“If… if you could get my towel out of my bag…” 

Lance nodded and began sifting through Silver’s meager possessions. Silver quietly swam to the water’s edge where his Pokebelt lay, discreetly withdrawing every Pokemon except for Sneasel, who had already taken a ready position out of sight.

“Is.. this it?” Lance asked, a bit incredulously, as he held up the most ratty, threadbare towel he’d ever seen. The reek of mildew was almost overwhelming.

“Yeah.” Silver said curtly, his embarrassment genuine. “Just… bring it over here.”

“What about your change of clothes?”

With even the minimum amount of thought, Silver realized that his would-be knee jerk dismissal of the entire concept was far more pathetic and slovenly than it was cool. So he settled for a shrug, turning so Lance wouldn’t see him blush. 

“Look away.” He commanded, covering himself with the towel and emerging. “I’ll tell you when I’m finished changing. Don’t even think about turning around.”

Lance nodded and turned away. But Silver didn’t rush to get dressed like his freezing body was begging him too. 

After all, he needed to give Sneasel time to work.

“Silver, when you’re finished, we should talk.” Lance said after a few uncomfortable moments had passed.

Sneasel beckoned two claws from the treeline. Silver grinned.

It was a powerful feeling, he thought, to make a sucker out of a powerful person.

“Yeah, sure. We can talk plenty , just as soon as I’m finished getting dressed.” Silver murmured, sinking into his jacket collar for warmth. With quiet steps, he slunk off into the woods.

“Right… um, you’ve been taking an awfully long time. Are you sure you’re okay? …Silver? Are you feeling alright? You must be feeling weak… it takes a lot of calories to maintain body heat, and it doesn’t seem like you have many calories to spare.”

He felt a pit in his stomach when Silver failed to respond yet again. He certainly didn’t want to accidentally do something scandalous, but he was more than concerned. 

So he turned around. 

But Silver wasn’t there anymore. Neither was the food that Lance had left in the clearing.

Lance grit his teeth. Had a simple picnic really been to much to ask for? 

-

“Can you believe this guy? Not a single credit card, just a fat wad of cash. What an old-fashioned loser!” Silver said. Sneasel shared in his mean laughter, even though they didn’t have a single coin between them, digital or physical.

“Hey. Don’t slow down. All of his Pokemon can fly. We’re going to need to go deeper into the mountains, we need thicker cover before we can relax.”

“Huff... Huff... Kyehh…”

“Tch… Don’t complain…”

Sneasel looked downcast as he trudged forward. Despite their score, Silver kind of felt the same way, his limbs aching horribly from hunger and the cold they had no fat to shield them from.

“Hey.” Silver said, not looking Sneasel in the eyes. “You did goo- alright. You did okay today…  I dunno when you lifted it, but the wallet was a nice touch. I’ll… get you something nice at the next town.”

Sneasel immediately perked up, walking with a bit of pride in its step. Silver didn’t feel anymore energetic, especially as he thought of the vendor selling Razor Claws in Blackthorn. He’d badly wanted to get Sneasel one regardless, but even though he had money now, he definitely could never step foot in Blackthorn again undisguised. He didn't even what to think about how this would affect his ability to challenge the gym, considering they'd just robbed the guy with his annoying face on almost every poster in town.

He shook away those thoughts. It was time to worry about the present, about his horribly gnawing stomach. They needed to start eating, just in case Lance found them. He passed a sandwich to Sneasel and started on his own. It passed through his lips in mere moments, as did the second, third and fourth.

Sneasel was staring at him oddly. Silver flushed a bit, embarrassed at his sudden gluttony. “...Whatever… I’ve got enough cash to buy you guys real Pokemon food when I get to town.. don’t look at me like that.” 

Sneasel just shrugged. It reached in and grabbed a second sandwich for itself, painstakingly removing only the ham and carelessly discarding the rest onto the forest floor. The vegetarian remnants of the first sandwich lay not far away. 

A white hot surge of anger rushed through him. They were all starving (not the least of all Silver himself, who actively split almost every single meal with his team), and this brat of a Pokemon was wasting food ? 

Silver’s hand moved on its own and Sneasel gaped, the ham slices slipping from its claws as it shrunk back.

The shatter of ceramic on ornate tile rang in his ears.

Silver flinched in his seat as two meaty hands slammed against the table, all rings and shining cufflinks. 

“Insolent brat! Is what I provide not good enough for you?”

“I-It was an accident, really! My elbow sli-”

“Do I seem like a fool to you? You complain that the food makes your stomach upset, then you flip it ‘accidentally’? As if any kind of backhanded ploy would work against me.”

“I…. I really, honestly didn’t mean to…”

“Then eat it.”

“B-but it’s on the floor…”

“Did. I. Stutter?”

Silver grimaced, lowering his hands to the sandwich parts that lay on the forest floor. He flicked half of a dead leaf, stuck to the crust with mayonnaise and shoveled it in, trying not to think too hard about the dirt.

Was Sneasel picky? Or an obligate carnivore? 

Would it really hurt to just… give it the benefit of the doubt? 

Silver decided he’d had enough judgement passed on him, by his father, by Lance earlier that day, by the world just about anytime he said or did anything. For once, he didn’t have it in him to deal it back in kind. Not today, when he felt so worn and conflicted.

“You idiot… don’t waste food. If you don’t wanna eat something, *anything*, you give it to me .” Silver said, taking another bite of his soggy bread, mayo and leaf sandwich.

Sneasel’s wary eyes softened and it collected its ham from the ground, taking a small bite of the nearest piece. Its eyes didn’t leave Silver as the teen forced himself to wolf down the food Sneasel had rejected. 

That was… kind of more than he’d wanted to eat in one sitting, considering they needed to get a move on very soon. He was grateful to have a full stomach for once, but even with two of them missing the meat, that was practically six sandwiches he’d just eaten, and not small ones either. 

He felt almost irresistibly drowsy. His brain still recognized the seriousness of his predicament, but his thoughts started to cloud as his body’s reward system kicked into overdrive, in combination with the exhausting work of digesting such a heavy meal. Silver yawned and let his arm lazily flop against his legs. His eyes were slipping closed unbidden.

“Keeh!” Sneasel gave a shrill hiss and began to shake his arm with its pokey claws. Silver grimaced and limply tried to swat it away, but it persisted. 

“Stop it…” Silver slurred drowsily. Couldn’t he just rest for a little bit? The aches deep in his bones hadn’t left yet, and that lovely draft of warm air from above was making him feel more comfortable than he had in weeks.

Wait…

A draft of warm air?

“Snort. ”

A small plume of smoke suddenly engulfed him, making him hack and wheeze. His slightly teary eyes painfully slid open, only to lock with those of an expectant and very judgmental-looking Charizard.

“Sneasel, Fake Out! ” Silver barked, his aching bones and overfilled stomach both protesting heavily as he deftly maneuvered behind Charizard, steadying himself with an arm to the ground as he stumbled a bit.

Sneasel lunged as if to gouge Charizard’s throat with its sharp claws, before simply flicking the Fire-type’s nose with a condescending sneer as it lost its balance, falling onto its backside in a cloud of dust.

“That would have been an excellent move… had I also been preparing one. What a waste of a flinch,” Lance said as he caught up to his Pokemon, tutting. “Charizard won’t fall for that one a second time." He gently grabbed Charizard's scaly hand and helped it upright, where it quickly regained its bearings.

This is what Silver had been afraid of... He’d gotten too complacent, and now they’d been found. Ready or not, Silver was going to have to face the champion. 

Yet, despite it all, he grinned, his fatigue melting away. He had to battle Lance? So be it. He was going to be the world’s strongest trainer one day, after all, wasn't he?

Chapter Text

Lance raised an eyebrow as the boy and Sneasel began to actually circle him and his high level Charizard. Did they actually intend to battle? Seriously? It would almost be awe-inspiring how tough this kid was despite being in a state that would render most half-dead, were it not both sad and infuriating.

Lance simply sighed, scratching between Charizard’s wings. “We don’t have to battle, kid. Your Pokemon aren’t in great shape, and you’re even worse off yourself.”

Silver scoffed, as if Lance’s genuine concern were just some kind of corny joke. “Really. You want to help us?” He asked incredulously.

“Look, I’m not mad about you stealing the food. You clearly needed it. In fact, I had planned on feeding you. I just want to talk, okay? Why don’t you put Sneasel back in its ball? We can stay warm around Charizard’s tail while we chat?” Lance hoped he came off amicably. This was beginning to feel like coaxing an injured wild Pokemon to come to the Pokemon Center with him. Unfortunately, this couldn’t be solved by lobbing an Ultra Ball at Silver’s head and releasing him later.

“You really think I’m stupid, don’t you? You don’t want to ‘talk’ to me, you just want me to let my guard down so you can take your ugly wallet back!”

“Ugly? I’ll have you know, my wallet was custom-ordered at the best designer boutique in the entire Celadon depar-” Lance felt his back pocket and blanched as he realized what Silver was saying. “...You took my wallet.”

“Seriously? You didn’t even know? Well. To be fair, I didn’t notice Sneasel taking it, either. He moves like a shadow, you know? Now, Sneasel! Beat Up!”

Lance stumbled in surprise. He’d let Sneasel disappear from his line of sight, and now it was emerging from the foliage to pummel Charizard not once, but six times. Sneasel wasn’t capable of hitting Charizard very hard, but the hits added up.

Lance’s features hardened. He still intended to help Silver, but he wasn’t about to let the brat take his wallet, either. If Silver wanted a battle, well… luckily for him, that happened to be Lance’s specialty.

“Keep moving, Sneasel! We’ll take this battle on the run!” Silver called out. Sneasel stuck its tongue out at Charizard, back springing off of its chest to follow Silver.

“If you think you can outspeed us, you are sorely mistaken! Scary Face, Charizard!”

Sneasel nearly tripped as Charizard gave it a truly mean glare. It was a cunning Pokemon, not necessarily a brave one. Silver caught it by the scruff and threw it back into the fray before it could run off into the thicket. “Don’t be a wuss, Sneasel! If he wants to pull tricks, we’ll just put a stop to it with Taunt!”

Sneasel regained its bearings. It mocked Charizards stern glare and beckoned it with a clawed hand and a sneer. Charizard blew smoke out of its nostrils, stomping its feet.

“It’s making fun of you, Charizard! Teach it a lesson with Air Slash!”

“Dodge it, Sneasel!” Sneasel did try, but the speed reduction from Scary Face proved too much. The sharp air gust battered it, the single attack much more powerful than all of the chip-damage that Beat Up had done to it. Silver knew Charizard easily overpowered Sneasel. They would have to be craftier than Lance, or they didn’t even have a chance of defeating one of his Pokemon.

“Agility, Sneasel!” Silver called out. With this, he would undo the speed drop from Scary Face, and with Taunt still in effect, Lance wouldn’t be able to keep Sneasel from moving quickly again. Silver took to running again, Sneasel in tow.

Lance was a fast runner, not too far behind Charizard as it caught up to Silver and Sneasel as they stopped in a nearby clearing. Lance had to admit, this was a far better arena than the narrow forest path, moreso for Charizard than Sneasel. It was a wide open space, and there was a pond big enough that he could even send Gyarados out if he needed to. He wasn’t sure what Silver was planning, luring him to an area like this, but he hadn’t become Champion by letting his guard down- especially to trainers that were proving themselves to be crafty.

Silver was more in-sync with his Pokemon now than in their previous battle. Had his words gotten through to him, even if only a little? Lance dared to hope.

“I see you’ve finally stopped running away. Or were you luring me into a trap?”

Silver remained silent. He only glared.

Lance huffed. He was hesitant to use his full strength, but he wasn’t leaving without his wallet and Silver. And the Pokemon Center would be stop number one. “Regardless of your intentions, this test of my patience ends now! You made a mistake leaving the trees- now I don’t have to worry about causing a forest fire. Charizard, finish this with Fire Blast!”

Silver grit his teeth as the huge burst of flame billowed out. Just when Lance thought Silver was bracing for defeat, “Your left, Sneasel! There’s an opening!” Sneasel barrelled to the left on his command, but Fire Blast clipped its hands as it did so.

“Keh! Kyehh!” Sneasel cried out, running to the pond’s edge to dunk its flaming claws.

Lance laughed. “A burn? That’s really not great for you, considering how little damage its claws were doing before. Face it, you’re outmatched, kid. One more Fire Blast, and-”

“Use Spite, Sneasel.”

Lance blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that. Charizard attempted to follow Lance’s command, but felt a cold chill down its spine as Sneasel glared daggers into its very soul. Only a puff of smoke left its mouth. It looked back at Lance apologetically, scratching its cheek.

“Don’t sweat it, Charizard. That was a crafty play.” Lance said, smiling as he praised Silver’s tactics. Silver looked a bit confused, but didn’t smile back.

“Take to the air, Charizard! Fly over the water, where it can’t jump at you!”

Charizard took off with ease, even dipping a wing as it flew to splash Sneasel with cold water.

“Don’t just stand there and take it, Sneasel! Slow it down with Icy Wind!”

Still clutching its burned claws, Sneasel took a deep breath and let a huge gust of freezing wind billow out over the pond, freezing the top of it. Already close to the water as its speed suddenly dropped, Charizard crashed, splaying onto the frozen pond with a loud crack as the ice splintered beneath it.

“Don’t get cocky!” Lance said as Charizard quickly took to the air before it could fall in. “That didn’t do much, Silver. Fire beats Ice, you know! Or did you skip Trainer’s School?”

“And Ice beats flying, you moron! So I’m hitting you for neutral damage!”

“But not much, especially with that awful burn on Sneasel’s claws. Trying to hit anything with those would be agony. Would you really put Sneasel through that?” Lance looked at Silver, genuinely wanting his answer. At the very least, he got a reaction, indignant and frustrated. Silver must have been considering his words.

“Right… you burned his claws. Big deal! They aren’t the only sharp weapon in his arsenal! Give it everything, Sneasel! Triple Axel!”

Sneasel spun out onto the slick ice in wide circles before spinning in place, gaining enough momentum to knock an icy foot into the airborne dragon. Once, twice, and then square into the jaw with the thrice the intensity of the first hit. With a huge crack, Charizard fell through the ice into the pond, while Sneasel landed in the grass with a less than graceful stumble, panting.

Lance’s heart only had a brief moment to sink before Charizard spun out of the water, spreading its wings in a plume of steam. It roared, the tip of its tail burning even brighter than before. It huffed and puffed- it was on the brink- but it was still going, and that was all the opening Lance needed. “Harness your Blaze ability, Charizard! Flamethrower, full power!”

Silver grimaced. Sneasel was exhausted. There was no dodging this. He closed his eyes, not wanting to watch his defeat in real time.

“Damn it…” He muttered as Sneasel fainted onto the grass. “Sneasel, return…”

He sighed. That had felt so close to a win. He’d given it everything… He felt almost like crying, but he absolutely wasn’t going to cry over losing a battle. He wasn’t going to cry over his aching stomach, either, but he couldn’t help himself from clutching it and doubling over a bit in sheer pain.

“Good job, Charizard. Take a nice rest… That was some excellent battling, kid! You actually had my Charizard on the ropes, with an ice-type, no less! …Silver? H-hey, what’s wrong?”

“N-nothing…” Silver grit out. In actuality, he felt all sorts of wrong. Sure, his stomach had hurt a bit from being way too full before, but this was… different. Like a throbbing flame in his abdomen. His heart felt a bit jumpy, too, but he chalked that up to the quickly-wearing-off burst of adrenaline.

Lance strode over to him and he crawled backwards. “You don’t look so good… poor thing, you must be feeling so hungry. How long has it been since you last ate? Maybe if we backtrack, we can find the food I brought?”

Silver wasn’t sure how to verbally process his disgust at being called a ‘poor thing’, so he just shuddered instead. Lance must’ve mistaken for a jitter of low blood sugar, because he looked even more like a sad dog.

Silver shoved him away, fighting the urge to be sick. “Ugh… no, I ate plenty… a lot, too much, really.”

Lance looked confused. “But… you’re clutching your stomach, like it hurts.”

“None of your business. Look,” Silver shakily got to his feet. “You may have beaten my Sneasel, but-”

“No, no more of that! Put that Pokeball back, I’m not fighting your Magnemite, Silver. Look, I had a lot of fun with that battle, really. And that’s saying something, because I have a lot of battles. But that clearly wasn’t the right time. You’re starving and weak, and you seem ill. So I’m sorry. Let’s-”

“Sorry? You’re sorry? You are unbelievable!” Silver said, standing up with a grimace. If Lance was refusing to send out his next Pokemon… did he intend to catch Silver himself? What… what was he planning on doing? Silver refused to drop the bravado, even for a second, but he was starting to feel ill, and more than a little scared. “Stop acting like we were battling for fun. I don’t get you at all!” Silver said. He backed away slowly, a bit like a wounded beast, seeking the safety of the treeline. It seemed to be slowly registering in Lance’s mind that he was a flight risk, because Lance was closing the gap.

“What, you mean because of the wallet? I… would like that back, actually. You didn’t think I would forget it, did you? Well, I mean, I do forget it pretty often, but it’s never actually been stolen, so- ah… yeah, I’m gonna need to get that back from you.”

Lance tried to keep his voice level, but he could see Silver eyeing the woods. Why? Why was this kid so stubborn? If Lance was tired, he couldn’t imagine how tired Silver must be. He didn’t even know how long the kid had been out here.

Clearly the teenager had very little in the way of direction from the adults in his life, if there even were any, but Lance couldn’t set the precedent that stealing was okay. He was willing to let the stolen food slide, the poor kid looked like a war-time photograph, but he couldn’t go around having his Sneasel pick pockets. Didn’t he realize someone might seriously hurt him?

It never even crossed Lance’s mind that that was exactly what Silver was afraid of right now. Silver could feel his heartbeat pick up as his legs brushed up against a tree root. Lance could punish him in any way he saw fit, up here in the woods, with no one to see them, no one to stop him. Silver was a thief, and he was all too aware what happened when thieves got caught.

But to give the money back was not so simple. The days when Silver could just steal and forage enough to keep himself alive were over when he decided to become a trainer. Perhaps it hadn’t been the right decision at all. He could admit that. But what he could not do was give up the single lifeline that fate had given him. He needed that money. He needed to keep it and take it down the mountain where he could buy Potions and Full Heals and Pokemon food. He wasn’t touchy or feely but some tiny part of him did care, damn it! Lance had been right, Silver was a neglectful trainer and he felt no small amount of guilt over it. But he couldn’t even start to correct his mistakes going off of nothing at all.

So just as Lance reached out for his shoulder, he darted into the trees. He wouldn’t, couldn’t be caught. Not now, not ever. He’d stolen lots of things, money, even two Pokemon. Was it his fault that the world had cast him into this horribly unfair situation, where he had to do the wrong things just to get by?

He felt too awful to think about it anymore. He dove into a hollow cluster of tree roots, just far enough away from Lance’s reaching hands.

“Silver!” Lance yelled angrily. “What are you trying to accomplish? Have some honor! Why do you feel the need to rob me and get away with it?” He reached into the thick roots with no small amount of frustration. He didn’t want to have a Pokemon attack the roots and risk damaging or killing this large, beautiful tree.

He felt something pelt him in the face. Something gaudy, with a sequined image of a flying Dragonite. He didn’t have to open it to know it’d been emptied out, it felt thinner than usual.

With a long sigh, he sat against the roots. “If you think you’re getting one over on me, you aren’t. That’s just the money I needed to pick up my new cape at the department store tomorrow.”

Silver was silent for a while. Lance thought he might have fallen asleep (or even collapsed) until he spoke up with a small voice. “...you already have a cape.”

Lance laughed. “I have a lot of capes. Nineteen, in fact. All identical.”

“...This is the most money I’ve ever had at once. Why? Why do you waste it?”

“C’mon, don’t go calling it ‘your’ money yet. And it’s my money to waste.”

“Yeah, but why?”

Lance sat thoughtfully for a moment. “I don’t know. The women at the store laugh behind my back, yet I always order another one. It’s a problem. But it gives me comfort. Here.” Lance unclipped his cape and tossed it into the hollow. “Wrap that around yourself and tell me you don’t feel cozy.”

Silver didn’t respond immediately, but he hesitantly indulged Lance, and his trembling slowed slightly. “It’s not bad… I guess… but what do you need comfort for?”

“Everybody needs comfort, Silver. Even Champions.”

“...You’re not even the real Champion, though. Everyone says the real one is, like, hiding away on a mountain somewhere.”

“Urk… well… there you go.” Lance muttered a bit poutily, trying not to sound hurt at the cold reality of it being stated so… well, coldly. “That’s why I need another cape.”

They sat in semi-comfortable silence. Silver was still very nauseous, but being able to be horizontal and have something like a blanket made him much more comfortable.

“Are you… really gonna wait all night?” Silver asked sleepily.

“I’m not leaving you here.” Lance responded, in a matter-of-fact way.

“W..what are you gonna do to me?”

“I’m not gonna hurt you, if that’s what’s been going on in that head of yours.”

Silver didn’t deny it. To Lance, that felt just a little bit heartbreaking. Before he could say anything, there was a howl off in the distance. There was a little choked whimper from SIlver, just loud enough for Lance to hear.
“Are you… scared?” Lance asked, sympathetic and just the slightest bit amused.

“Of the Houndoom? You should be too!” Silver said defensively. “This time of year they rove around in packs, looking for anything with meat on it they can tear apart!”

Silver heard the sound of a Pokeball opening. “Well, they can just try eating my Dragonite. Or all three at once, if they like. They won’t be getting to you or me tonight. Though I think we’d both be more comfortable sleeping in a building.”

“...You’ll just take me to jail.” Silver muttered. But he seemed thankfully less frightened.

“That’s not how it works. If I did take you to the police, they’d probably just make you give the money back.”

“Well, I won’t come out. I don’t trust you.

“Then I guess we’re at a stalemate.” Lance said, cozily leaning into his Dragonite. The big Pokemon yawned and wrapped an arm around its trainer. He could see Silver’s gray eyes peeking out from under the cape, staring at the two of them oddly.

“You cuddle with your Dragonite?”

“It’s the only way I can get to sleep.” Lance admitted. “I love my dwagons…” He said, scratching it under the chin.

“Ew… seriously, I’m already nauseous. You’re gonna make me throw up on your… your stupid, expensive cape.”

“Alright, alright. Please don’t. Look, your body is probably not used to the amount of food you put in it. I’m sure you’ll be fine once you let it digest. How much did you eat?”

“... Uh… six sandwiches…” Silver admitted after some hesitation. “Sneasel ate the ham out of two of them…” He added, as if that possibly made it sound like less.

Lance sputtered. “Uh… okay, wow. That’s… actually impressive. How… how long has it been since you ate before that?”

“...Um… several weeks… I don’t really remember and my brain is a little foggy right now…”

Lance did a double take. “You’ve been living in the woods for several weeks?”

“What? No, that’s just how long it’s been since I ate…”

“I-I see… so how long have you been homeless, Silver?”

“...Why all the questions?”

“Why not just indulge them? Do you have anything to lose from doing so?”

“...Fine. It’s been three years. It’s not always this bad. Winter is always bad because nothing edible grows.”

Oh. Oh. Lance’s voice was tight. “Three years? You’ve been living like this since you were thirteen?”

Silver laughed quietly, the only time so far that Lance had heard a laugh from him that was not outright mean or condescending. “Thirteen? Where’d that come from?”

“Oh I- my apologies, I had… assumed you were a youth. You just, seem a bit… small for an adult.”

“You- you think I’m sixteen?”

Lance sighed. “Go on, let me have it, then. How far off am I?”

“Like, four years…”

Lance scoffed. “C’mon… I don’t believe for a second that you’re twenty years old.”

“Huh? I didn’t say I was twenty…” Silver said, a sleepy yawn escaping despite his attempt to stifle it.

The casualness of the whole situation almost made Lance miss the implication of those words.
“H-hold on… if you aren’t twenty, then… is it the opposite? You’re… you’re just…”

Silver gave an annoyed sigh. “You’re really bad at this, aren’t you? I’m twelve. And a quarter. You thought I was some loser who waited until sixteen to start training Pokemon? Who would wait so long?”

Suddenly, a lot of Silver’s behavior made sense to Lance. In a horrifying, stomach-turning sort of way.