"You're being insufferable."
Silver just stared.
"I don't know what that means," he said after an unnecessarily long pause.
"It means that your disobedience is getting on my last nerve," Archer said and narrowed his eyes at the boy and his ridiculous hair. He was certain that hitting children was frowned on in Saffron City; there were just too many witnesses if anyone tried to complain, or if the kid started to cry. "How old are you now, anyway, ten?"
"I'm six." Silver indicated with the correct amount of fingers.
"Really?"
"Why would I lie about how old I am?"
"I don't know. Why won't you just let someone cut your damn hair?" Archer snapped, earning himself a look of disapproval from an elderly woman as she passed by.
"Because I don't want someone to cut my damn hair."
"Don't swear."
"You did."
"Yeah, but I'm the adult and the one with the extremely poisonous Pokémon in his pocket. Don't swear."
"Okay, fine," Silver scowled. The only good part about having inconsistent babysitters was that none of them cared when he did things one of the others had told him not to do. "Why do I have to get my hair cut if I like it like this?"
"Because your Dad doesn't like it. And since he's the Boss, you're getting a haircut."
"But I'll just tell him I don't want a haircut. He'll listen to me."
"He doesn't have the time."
"But I don't want my hair cut. I like it. It looks like Ariana's hair and I like her the best."
"So I've heard." Archer rolled his eyes. Ariana was all he ever heard about, Ariana and how she was so wonderful in comparison, especially next to Proton. The kid claimed that Proton liked to threaten him with knives – while Proton was likely to do it, he wasn't stupid enough. "What are we supposed to do now then? The only orders I've been given for the last three days are to get your hair cut. We've made it this far today so can we just go in there and get it over with?"
"Nope," Silver said as he shook his head, hair falling into his eyes as he did. He scowled and tucked it back behind his ears.
"Isn't that annoying?"
"Nope."
"Look, Silver, we can do this the easy way or the hard way," Archer said with a sigh. "The easy way is me picking you up right now and carrying you in there kicking and screaming."
"What's the hard way?"
"We'll go home, I'll have Houndoom hold you down and I'll cut it off myself."
Silver paused while he contemplated Archer's threat.
"No you won't."
"Choose, boy."
"I'm not going into that store. Only girls go to places like that."
"Yeah, and you look so tough and manly yourself with that haircut."
"What?" Silver looked perplexed. Archer grabbed him around the waist and tossed him over his shoulder – it was easier than having another argument about walking home.
xxxxx
"No."
"Yes."
"No." Silver was more insistent the second time.
"Sit. Down," Archer said through clenched teeth. He slipped the scissors into his back pocket and took a small step forwards. Silver stepped back to maintain the distance between them but felt himself bump into the bathroom wall; he let out a small whimper. "It'll take ten seconds."
"I don't care."
"You brought this on yourself."
"What?"
Silver's eyes flashed with panic as Archer released Houndoom. He knew from previous encounters with the dog that it wasn't necessarily a cruel beast, but it obeyed Archer's every word.
"Hold him still."
There was nowhere for the boy to go once he backed up against the wall. With Houndoom keeping him in place and Archer advancing on him, Silver slid down to the floor with his hands up over his head.
"Leave me alone!"
"I'm just doing my job, boy."
"But I don't want it, I don't, I don't!" He was screaming so loudly that had there been neighbours, they would have surely called the police.
"Hold the fuck still."
It was the cursing that did it. Silver gave a small but audible gasp when Archer swore in frustration, giving the Rocket enough time to grab him by the hair. Twisting the boy's vivid locks, he hacked through the makeshift ponytail at the base of Silver's neck until the hair came loose.
"I said I didn't want it cut!" Silver shouted; Houndoom growled. Archer dropped the fistful of red hair into the bath and narrowed his eyes, silencing the boy once again.
"Now you have another choice to make."
"What?" Silver's voice cracked as he ran his fingers through his hair, hand falling onto his own shoulder when he ran out of length much sooner than he was accustomed to feeling. He cried out when Houndoom snapped at him and curled back up into a ball on the floor, trembling. "Put him away!"
"Are you going to let me fix it or do you want me to take you back into the city again to get it done properly?"
"No, no, no, no, no!"
"Silver!"
"No, go away!"
"Decide!"
"You ruined my hair! Go away!"
"Do you want me to make the choice for you again?"
"No!"
"Then make up your fucking mind." Archer said in a low voice. Silver gave a hysterical sob that echoed off the bathroom tiles and tried to curl back up into a ball. "Now!" He shouted; Houndoom let out a simultaneous snarl.
"The hairdresser! The hairdresser!" Silver cried out hysterically. The hound was returned with a flash of light and he found himself alone on the floor, Archer standing over him, still scowling.
"Get up, wash your face. Then go and get a jacket and be out there," he indicated towards the living room, "in five minutes. I'm not going to listen to any more of your crying, understand?"
Silver nodded and scrambled to his feet when Archer left the bathroom. As much as he wanted to run, to hide in his room until Ariana came back, he knew better than to stay on Archer's bad side for longer than was necessary. With as much self-control as a terrified six-year-old could possibly have, Silver wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve and walked out of the bathroom for his jacket.
xxxxx
"Well, you know kids," Silver didn't like the way Archer sounded when he was trying to be friendly. "They just don't listen when you tell them not to play with scissors."
The hairdresser laughed as she ran her fingers through Silver's hair to examine the damage that had been done.
"It'll be pretty short when I'm done but at least you won't be able to tell that you've cut it yourself," she said. Silver simply nodded. When the hairdresser turned away to collect her scissors, Archer gave him the most vicious glare he could get away with in public. "You alright there?" He nodded again, sitting as still as he could while she pinned up his hair to get to the bottom layers first.
Silver scrunched his eyes closed at the sound of the first snip and refused to open them until he felt the lady brushing stray hairs off his shoulders. "You can open your eyes now kiddo, I'm all done."
Silver couldn't help but let out a pained cry when he saw his own reflection; he unconsciously leaned forwards, towards the mirror.
"What now?"
"My hair doesn't match Ariana's anymore."
Resisting the urge to drag Silver out of the chair by what remained of his hair, Archer considered what the reaction would be if he asked to be demoted.
