Fear was for the weak, of course. Silver had known that since before he could walk, and it'd carried him to this point. Caution was also weakness, but slightly less so. It wasn't weak to simply know you were in a dangerous situation and prepare for it. Probably. His father would most likely have several things to say about that, if he ever listened to his father.

Whether he was weak for this or not, he knew he'd pushed his luck much too far. Goldenrod was a large city, but it wasn't large enough to stay hidden in forever. People had started to recognize his face, and that meant it had become far more difficult to break into a home for a quick wash and a bite to eat like normal.

And now that Rockets had crawled out of the sewer and infested the city, it was doubly true. Most of those recruited (especially now) were useless idiots hardly worthy of handling Pokeballs, much less battling. But it was the uniform, and only that, which had enough memories attached to it that scared average citizens.

People stayed in their houses with the doors locked. Security systems had been bought and armed. Pokémon who'd once been docile house pets, who in normal situations could be defused with a pat to the head, now stayed in a perpetual state of aggression.

There was a Meowth passed out in the living room of this apartment as he partook in its shower and laundry machines. The owner would be back in an hour, according to the surveillance Silver had done. It should be awake by then, and the owner would be none the wiser and less likely to buy more security.

Probably. This was a lot shorter of a time frame than he usually wanted, and he could be literally caught with his pants down. He could get out of that, but to be caught with his Pokéballs out of reach on the kitchen table was far more hazardous. This wasn't simply weak, it was stupid.

But what choice did he have? He needed a clear head if he was going to continue to move and search for Lance. Following Gold had yielded nothing but digging far deeper into Team Rocket's burrow than he'd wanted to go. That, as well another loss which wouldn't have happened if Silver were as strong as he should have been. To lose to yet another person who coddled their Pokémon like the fat, placable pet he'd just taken out…

There was some part of the equation he was evidently missing. He scratched at his scalp as he scrubbed away the oil and dirt from his traveling.

If the people he was losing to were coddlers, did that mean…?

He'd gotten this far in life by taking the lessons of his father; he wasn't dead because of the same sorts of words. But what did 'this far' actually mean? He had been forced to break into a home yet again, to wash up with stolen water and electricity, and make a lunch out of what had been earned by someone else. His Pokémon, also stolen, were fresh from the Center where they'd finally recovered from their injuries after the loss.

Silver left the shower and transferred his set of clothes to the dryer to be some semblance of ready for when he left. As he dried himself off, he paused to take a look out the window. Team Rocket had retreated back into their hole…

Team Rocket was gone.

People, feeling content that they were safe, would soon emerge into the city. The streets would soon be flooded with eyes which knew his face all too well and… shit. Why couldn't Gold have waited to do whatever he'd done for another hour or two…?

He needed to be out of the city before too many people realized what had happened, which wasn't going to be very long considering the idiots had set themselves up in the radio tower.

Silver took his hot, but still saturated, clothes out of the dryer and threw them back on. He went to the refrigerator and filled his bag with as much food as it could possibly fit. Enough, he figured, to keep his team and him fed until they reached Ecruteak… At least, barring any of the unforeseen delays which had become the norm lately.

The path there was littered with weak trainers, rich with food and money and impoverished when it came to battling experience. There was always a knot in his stomach when he was forced to lose. But, if those were the sorts of people he'd deal with while he was on the move, that knot wouldn't have anything to do with hunger.

Somehow, he'd end up fine. He always had before.

He took a look at the clock as he secured his Pokéballs back to his waist. He'd taken far too long in the shower, considering he didn't have that sort of luxury. The police being called would be the sort of delay which could ruin his chances.

Silver quickly administered the Meowth just enough potion to cause it to stir, made sure the deadbolt secure, and left the apartment for the elevator. The illusion that everything was as it'd been when the owner had left for work would hold long enough for him to get out of town. Probably.

The doors opened, and of all people the homeowner was revealed. Silver hid his shock, suppressed the caution (it wasn't fear, of course), as the man came to learn his face and the normal spot in Goldenrod was cut off from Silver. Possibly forever, but who knew.

The man, though, seemed far more interested with grinning than with suspicion. To be expected of a normal citizen, though the bear hug Silver was forced into wasn't as much. The desire to get out of town undetected overrode the necessity to shove away from this unwanted contact, but just barely. This man was lucky Silver was… No he wasn't. Desperation wasn't for someone like him.

"Did you hear?" the man asked, as he moved to just a hardy slap on Silver's back. The wetness from his clothes made a, somehow ignored, stain on his front. But, that's why this man's home had been chosen. He was stupid.

Silver offered a grunt, which was interpreted as a question.

"Team Rocket's been chased away!"

Silver knew the proper response was to grin, but he not so much couldn't as wouldn't. He offered a nod and the only thing he could think of to say.

"Good riddance."

The man laughed and slapped him on the back again before he entered the elevator. "Go enjoy yourself."

Silver gave another curt nod as the elevator doors closed, and he was able to escape into the chaos of the festivities. He could, and did, weave his way through the crowd of eyes who knew him but were unconcerned.

He was able to get out of town without incident, which was luck of course. That was childish, pathetic, to enjoy, but just for the moment he'd make an exception.

There were miles to go before he could sleep, after all.

Probably.