Notes: Will you forgive me for taking so long if I say that the next installment will be the last?
As far as kisses go, it's not the best Gold's ever had. The whole affair is pretty uncoordinated and shy — not just on Silver's part. The intensity of his desire, his feelings, scares the hell out of Gold, and he really, really hopes it's only his hormones because everything else would just be stupid. Then again, it sort of figures, doesn't it? He always condemned romantic affection, and now he falls in love with a boy who may actually be even more emotionally stunted than he is.
He draws away to breathe and take in Silver's face: skin blazing, pupils blown, lips slick and quivering.
Gold is sure he'll combust if Silver keeps this up.
"Wow," it comes from the stairs. "You are actually doing this right now."
Gold turns around. "Oh, Joy."
Joy descends the last couple of steps and frowns at them both. "Seriously? Crys is planning up there, wounded, and you're — smooching?"
Gold sneers. Next to him, Silver scowls. Gold is starting to believe this is his default reaction to nearly anything.
"That's none of your business," he retorts.
Joy clicks his tongue. Gold bites the inside of his mouth.
"How's it look?"
"Like she got mauled by an ursaring, and she doesn't even care," Joy answers brusquely. "No surprises there, though. You know Crys, she's got thick skin and an even thicker head."
Gold sighs in relief. "Good. Thank you."
"No, it's not good. You and her, you're both going to die because of your crush on Prince Brooding here, and what are you doing about it? Nothing! Nada! Why aren't you getting the fuck out of here?"
"And what good would that do?" Gold snarls. "They'll find us no matter where we hide! They're not going to let Silver go."
"Then ditch him!"
Gold clenches his hands to fists. Heat sloshes up his chest, angry and red. "I can't just leave him here to die. I won't."
"Aren't you a big damn hero," Joy spits and steers for the exit. "You're going to get yourself killed just because you can't tell your heart apart from your dick."
He shakes his head and leaves. Gold half-expected him to slam the door as an extra dramatic gesture, but Joy shuts it quietly, gingerly, as if not to attract any more attention.
Sighing, Gold runs his fingers through his hair. "So," he says sheepishly. "That went well."
Silver makes a face as though he's just declared he'll parade the streets naked.
"What?"
"He's right."
"Who, Joy? About what?"
Silver casts him a look that says, "Drop the act". It reminds Gold of himself. He opens his mouth for derisive laughter, but it sounds more like the cough of an old steam engine, like those in Anville Town.
"What, you gonna chicken out? Pretend nothing happened?"
Silver's lower lip begins to quiver. Rage? Fear? Gold searches his eyes for an answer and comes up blank.
"I need a drink," he announces.
He makes for the bar and rummages in the cupboards behind the counter until he finds what he's been looking for: "Original Viridian Single Malt, Extra Strong". A good one, potent and sharp, almost only alcohol, and one of the few of the old man's liquors left. (He bequeathed one half of them to Gold; the other was buried with him.)
Gold pours himself a glass and chucks it. It blazes down his throat, festering until it feels like his entire torso is on fire.
From the corridor, Silver calls his name. Again, closer this time. He emerges from the door, halting at the edge of the counter. "Gold, I … we might be dying. Joy is right, we can't just turn our backs on everything and make out. Crystal is hurt because of me. You want to help her, too, don't you?"
Gold hoists another glass. This one goes straight to his head. Faintly, he registers how his brain slows down, thoughts passing him by like currents of a river, too fast and slippery to grasp.
Silver takes another couple of steps towards him. "Right now isn't the time, Gold. We're not thinking clearly," he finishes, eying the bottle warily.
"Of course not!" Gold fires. "That's the whole point!"
Silver scrunches up his nose, and Gold wants to kiss every crease of skin. He takes another drink.
"The whole point of what?" Silver asks dubiously.
"Of love!" Gold hollers, banging his glass on the counter.
"Love," Silver echoes tonelessly, gaping at Gold's hands clutching his glass. "You're drunk. There's a gang war in the making, and we're both under a lot of pressure. This isn't the right time. When everything is over and we're still alive at the end, we can talk about it, maybe reset the whole thing."
Gold lets go of his glass. "What you're telling me is that I don't know what I'm feeling but you do."
Silver grinds his teeth. "You're drunk."
That's it, Gold thinks. Rounding the counter, he marches to the front door.
"Hey, what —"
"I'm getting out of here."
"You idiot, do you actually want to die?"
"So what," Gold snaps. "'S not like it matters to you!"
"Oh, no. No, we are not doing this. Come back in —"
Gold's hand moves before he comprehends what he's doing, and then his fist collides with Silver's right eye. Silver stumbles backwards, palming his eye, until his back hits the counter. The unharmed left one stares at Gold, unblinking.
Shame wells up inside Gold. He wants to puke, he wants to claw his own guts out, he — he just punched Silver. He just punched a person who did nothing to deserve it.
I knew it. I'm a ticking time bomb. Eventually, I always make everything around me blow up.
"I'm sorry," he chokes out and starts to run.
x
"Crystal!"
"Whoa, what happened to you?" She cranes her neck and squints at him. "Your eye looks nasty. Did you have a fight down there? I heard shouting."
Silver crumbles down into the chair beside her bed. "Gold told me he loved me. I think."
"Excuse me?"
"Joy got angry at us for — for not being focused and left. I agreed with him and told Gold that we don't have time for anything else right now. He started drinking, we argued, he hit me and ran away." He stares at his hands in his lap, limp and useless. "What do we do? Archer will find him. Gold doesn't have anything to defend himself with. You're injured, I have no experience, and neither of us knows where Gold is now. It's over."
Crystal puts a hand on his shoulder, not looking at him. "It's not. Joy brought me a stash of painkillers — the good ones. I'll be able to move within the next two hours. With a bit of luck Team Rocket won't get to Gold until then so we can prepare ourselves."
"Prepare?"
She jerks her head in affirmation. "They'll use him as a hostage or as bait. Either way we'll have some visitors soon."
Silver balls his hands into fists. "This is all my fault."
"Stop that," Crystal says. "I did all of this out of my own volition. I could have refused, but I didn't. The same applies to Gold. We're all to blame."
"You're so calm and collected," Silver says in admiration.
Crystal laughs weakly. "That just proves that you haven't a clue about me yet."
Silver can't help but gawk at the "yet".
x
After a few blocks, Gold stops, slumping forward against the wall of an apartment building, and presses his forehead against the sobering coolness of the bricks.
There is no excuse for what he just did, not even a proper explanation. To be honest, though, he isn't really surprised; that part of him is old news. He's always been a dumbass, picking fights with the wrong people while wrecking the right. Up until now he only ever regretted it this much when it involved Crystal. He thought it would stay that way.
"How lucky," someone says behind him.
Gold whips around and freezes. Even though he just saw pictures and never met him in person, he recognizes Archer right away.
"I never imagined it might end like this," he chuckles. Two Rocket grunts tower next to him on each side, heavily armed and eyes narrowed.
Shit.
x
Silver and Crystal build a barricade in front of the bar counter with all the furniture they can carry — or as much of a barricade as you can at such short notice —, lug two machine guns and several loads of ammunition downstairs, and wait for a sign of Gold or Team Rocket.
Time crawls by at excruciating speed, and Silver is convinced he's going to implode if something doesn't happen soon. He glances at Crystal worrying her lip, eyes fixed on the front door. He proposed splitting up so they could guard both entryways, but Crystal rejected that immediately.
"You of all people should know that Archer loves flashy entrances," she said. "Even if some did come through the back door, we'd still be at an advantage because we can see them from here but they can't see us." So that was that.
x
"Now, Gold." Shutting the door behind himself, Archer sits down beside him in the van. His cronies are keeping watch outside beyond the tinted windows, guns cocked. "Tell me, what did your girlfriend want in one of our offices?"
Gold works his jaw. "Crys is my barmaid, not my girlfriend."
"Ah, yes, I forgot. That position has recently been occupied otherwise, hasn't it?" Leaning back against the black leather seat, he folds his hands above his crossed legs. "Allow me to correct myself: what did your barmaid want in one of our offices? I thought we had an agreement not to disturb one another's privacy."
In an attempt to appear unimpressed, Gold raises an eyebrow. "This is the first time I ever heard of that. Are you getting senile, old man?"
Archer smirks as though he's received what he's been looking for. "If you don't want to answer, it must be a secret. A secret you value more than your own life, it seems. Intriguing."
At Archer's light tone, something cold runs down Gold's spine. "What are you planning to do now?" he inquires with feigned nonchalance. "Kill me? Blow me up along with my house and employee? Surely, you're not gonna keep in here forever."
Archer's eyes go wide and manic. "As fun as that would be, you are correct, I will not. Instead I'm going to take you on a little trip." Opening the door a crack, he commands, "Start the car. You know where to."
x
Two and half an hour have gone by when, finally, a handful of tall, brawny men push through the entrance of The Hatcher, all equipped with firearms, followed by a reedy man with cropped blue hair and a handcuffed Gold.
Silver's fingers twitch nervously around the trigger of his gun. Crystal puts her hand over his to still it and motions him to be quiet.
"Cute," Archer comments as he surveys the makeshift barricade. "You know, I really appreciate hard work like this. It reminds me of your father, Silver."
Silver stiffens, hand going rigid in Crystal's.
Archer moans with mock chagrin. "Nothing to that? I hoped you would show me some more of your rebellious bravado, I find it absolutely delightful."
Glancing over to Gold, head hung low in shame, Silver demands, "What do you want?"
Archer smiles and shoves Gold in their direction. "I believe I have something you'd like back. By the way, very clever to use these two, Silver. Very clever and yet so very disappointing. I even gave you time to come up with a plot, but all you three did was wait." Yanking Gold up by the collar, he forces him to face forward. He looks devastated. "I detest waiting. Don't you?"
Silver feels like he's been socked in the chest, all air escaping from his lungs. Judging by her horrified expression, Crystal isn't much better.
Archer merely played with them all this time. They never had a chance.
Silver swallows and tries to breathe. "What do you want?" he repeats.
Archer's smile vanishes. "Drop your weapons and come out with your hands where I can see them."
Crystal's shoulders tense. "Then what? Are you going to kill us?"
"You'll find out soon enough," Archer says, tightening his hold on Gold's neck.
Turning to Silver, she whispers, "Do you have your pokémon with you?"
"Yes," he replies, nonplussed.
"A flying type, too?"
Silver nods.
"Good." She gets into shooting position. "Run."
"What—"
She swats her hand at him to shut him up. "They won't kill us before they've got you. Now go, I don't want this all to be for nothing."
So Silver goes.