By sixteen, Gold thought he'd seen everything. He had been on a long and arduous Pokémon journey, had a hand in defeating the Johto branch of Team Rocket, been Champion. He'd been the Champion for almost four years before finally giving up the position in favour of attempting a normal teenage life. He'd climbed Mount Silver and battled his hero. In five years, he had done what most couldn't achieve in a lifetime. He went on believing this for a long time. He was sixteen when a friend told him a story that changed the way he saw his own achievements.

He was the first to admit that he pushed things too far. He always had and probably always would. He'd asked Silver why he wasn't going home for Christmas and then pressed the issue after he'd been warned not to do it. Sneasel had sent a half-hearted Icy Wind his way on trainer's orders, but that had been easy enough to avoid; he'd certainly had enough practice. It took some coaxing, and some beers that he had convinced Leaf to buy for him on a semi-regular basis, but Silver had gone on, for the first time, about his childhood.

I lived in Saffron, he'd said. When Red beat my father at the Viridian Gym, he told me that it was over and he was leaving. I didn't believe him, he's not weak, but I think it was the most he ever said to me in one conversation. We came to Johto the same night. Ariana woke me up in the middle of the night and packed my things, we took all my things and none of theirs. They all brought their favourite things, the ones that they could pack easily. Everything of mine was packed up though, so I stayed off the record. We lived in Goldenrod then, because Archer thought it was best if we hid right under their noses. Silver had stopped his story to scratch Sneasel's ears, as the Pokémon curled up on his lap.

I lived with all of them, Silver continued. Archer, Petrel, Proton, Ariana. We lived in a tiny apartment that wasn't big enough for four adults. You met them. They're all one Voltorb short of a full deck. Proton was the worst, he's a registered psychopath in Kanto. It's what got him promoted so fast. The others weren't so bad. Archer gave me Sneasel when I was nine, because that's when they decided I was old enough to help them. They trained me up, sent me on raids, used me as bait. Nothing dangerous. They sent me to the Elm Lab, Archer wanted information.

Everything went to shit after that. By then I'd found out that Ariana was my mother so I wasn't speaking to her. When they disbanded a second time, she disappeared and so did Archer. I stayed for a while, with Proton and Petrel. Then I spent some time up around Blackthorn and the Plateau with Lance. That was easier. It was training, day in, day out. Hard work, but easier than anything else had been. Last year, I went home for Christmas.

Silver paused again, this time to collect another beer from the fridge. He handed a second to Gold who was still sitting cross-legged and attentive in the armchair. By then, he started up his story again, it was just Petrel. They were caught up in something, I don't know what they did but it was small, Proton's due out of prison in another two years. Petrel only got away because he was disguised at the time. No one's matched him to the photos and they probably won't ever find him. Proton won't talk. He'll want to, but he won't. He hasn't got anyone else.

My father has been gone for eight years, my mother for almost five. Archer and Proton are unreachable, and Petrel's isolating himself until at least one of them comes back. That's hardly a place to go home to at Christmas. Silver finished his story there, falling silent now that he was done.

So, Gold spoke eventually, do you want one shitty present for your birthday and another shitty one for Christmas, or do you want one less shitty one that's for both?

Whatever, Silver replied.

No, man, you have to choose.

Why?

So I can tell my mother before she does her Christmas shopping.