Giovanni had told her, when Silver was less than three months old, that she was never to tell him she was his mother. A mere Grunt at the time, she had been swiftly promoted to Admin when she gave up her rights. Other Grunts had been chosen to help raise the boy and they had, in turn, been promoted for their services. It broke her heart to do it, but she was young, and had been promised more power in return. Her heart broke every time Silver cried for his father, when he wished for a mother, when all he wanted was parents like he saw on television shows. But now, at nine years old, he was breaking her heart all over again. It had been four days since he had spoken to her, and three since he had even looked in her direction. Every time she asked if he was hungry, if he was cold, if he needed anything, his only response was silence.

###

'I don't know what to do anymore,' she said. She had no idea if Archer was awake – he'd come in and turned the lights off well over an hour earlier. The third bed had been moved back to the living room; Petrel had moved it when he caught Silver trying to do it on his own.

'About?' Archer's reply was slow, slurred. He'd more than likely been half asleep until she spoke.

'He won't even look at me.'

'Why?'

'Why do you think?'

'I don't know, why?'

'Archer, he watched me stand there and let Proton choke him, threaten him with a knife, and remind him of something that happened years ago, and I'm never going to find out what that was.'

'Can you blame him then?'

'Are you serious?'

'So he hates you. He's a kid. They all do that. You hate your parents, I hate mine, he hates his. Big deal.'

'You really don't care, do you?'

'I'm just saying that he's a child.'

'I've never thought I was a terrible mother. You know I am, you've been there for it all. I lied to him, crushed his dreams, helped sabotage his relationship with his father. Those are all the things you're not supposed to do. I've done everything wrong, and now, he's pure hatred and he's only nine.'

'Are you done?'

'What?'

'Are you finished?'

'Fuck you, Archer, all you had to do was lie and say he'll get over it,' she snapped; she had no one else to talk to about these things and Archer was dismissing her concerns as if they were nothing.

'He won't get over it. If you're lucky he'll talk to you before the end of the year.'

She didn't respond then, just stared at the dark ceiling. He was right, and she knew it. As much as she loathed herself for it, she wanted someone else to say that it would work out in the end; Silver was all she had. If Giovanni never returned, if they couldn't find a way to get a message to him, if he ignored them, Silver was it. Then, Archer's hand found hers, and it took everything she had to hold back the tears. She was weak, she acknowledged that, but she refused to fall as low as pathetic.

###

Petrel sat down on the couch, cigarette in hand, waiting for the inevitable moment where Silver told him to go away. Seconds passed, then minutes, and the boy just sat there. He was staring at the television watching the news with Houndoom on his lap. Proton had been gone for five days, Archer and Ariana for four. Petrel had been happy enough to stay behind. His last mission had been a success and they now had almost two hundred thousand dollars to show for it. Proton had been sent to the well again, to track the populations and regrowth more carefully. Archer had set off to find them a place to sell the Slowpoketails, and had taken Ariana along with him.

'Don't lie.'

'You're telling me what to do?' Petrel joked, but Silver's expression was foreboding.

'Don't lie.'

'Okay, no lies. What's up?'

'Why didn't you help me?'

'Look, kiddo,'

'Don't. Lie.'

'Hey, shut up and let me finish. Proton doesn't like people telling him what to do. If I'd told him not to kill you, he probably would have done it because he doesn't take orders from anyone.'

'He listens to Archer.'

'Yeah, because Archer's last order was to give the orders. Proton knows that. He doesn't like it.'

'You're not going to lie, are you?' Silver asked, presumably accepting Petrel's answers.

'No lies unless it's about shit I'm under orders not to tell you about.'

'Like what?'

'Just said I can't tell you. But no lies unless there's an order to.'

'Wait, if Archer's got orders from my dad, and my dad is my dad and he's not here, then I'm kind of him, aren't I?'

'What's your point?' Petrel put out his cigarette then, pushing it under the edge of the couch; he'd blame it on someone else later.

'If I order you not to lie, you can't lie, can you?'

'Better get to the point soon, kiddo, I'm getting hungry.'

'Did you know that Ariana is my mother?'

'Can't tell you that.'

'You did!' That scowl again, it tore through Petrel, a reminder of all the mistakes he'd been reprimanded for in the past. 'Why did everyone lie?'

'Hey, slow down,' Petrel had to remind himself the boy was only nine, he had to choose his words carefully – this was the first time Silver had spoken to anyone in almost two weeks. 'There's a lot of reasons, that was a big secret to keep.'

'Did my dad say it was a secret?'

'Yeah.'

'Oh.' Silver sunk back into the corner of the couch, almost hidden underneath a snoozing Houndoom. 'You didn't have to listen.'

'Did you ever not listen to your dad?'

'No,' he pouted.

'All I can tell you is that she feels like shit now that you're not talking to her.'

'I'm not talking to her because she likes Proton more. She broke his fingers because he tried to kill me and then she fixed them and said sorry. She lied forever and then did that, I don't want her to be my mother because she's bad at it.'

'You sure?'

'Yes.'

'Really?'

'I'm not talking to her again. And I don't want to talk to you anymore. Go away.'

'Liar,' Petrel grinned.

'Now!'

'Okay, I'm going, see?' Petrel stood up to leave the room. 'Just tell me when you want some lunch.' He tried to leave but Houndoom cut him off, allowing Silver to flee back to his bedroom; the door slammed, the conversation was over.

It was two hours before Silver left his room, stalking quietly around the apartment; bathroom, kitchen, back to bedroom. Petrel ignored him, and continued to ignore him for the next three days. It was the easiest time he'd ever had looking after the child. He told Ariana as much when she returned, but she did not see the humour. Her face fell at the news of Silver's decision.

'Just do it now,' she said, lips pressed tightly together. Archer nodded; she was grasping at straws, hoping that by seeing him as soon as they got back, Silver would come around faster.

###

Archer gave a polite but unnecessary knock before he walked into the far bedroom. Silver was sitting on the floor reading, Houndoom still by his side.

'Go away,'

'That doesn't work on me. It might have worked on Petrel, but not me. Are we clear?'

'You're not my boss.'

'What's your rank?'

'I don't have one. I don't need one.'

'Prove that I'm not your boss then.'

'You're just not.'

'You're a Grunt.'

'I am not.'

'Prove it.'

'I can't.'

'Well, I'm glad we cleared that up. Now,' Archer said, standing beside Silver. Houndoom gave a playful bark when he scratched behind his ears. 'we've got some things to talk about.'

'Go away!'

'First of all, you need to learn how to speak to your superiors.'

'You're not my boss!'

'I just told you you're a Grunt. What am I?'

'A jerk.' All it took was a raised eyebrow from Archer for the fire Pokémon to start digging his claws into Silver's thigh. 'Hey! Stop it!'

'What's my rank?' Archer asked again, cool as ever.

'Executive!'

'Good. So we've established that I'm your boss. When I speak to you, you answer. When anyone else with a higher rank speaks to you, you answer. Are we clear?' Silver nodded, tears pricking at his eyes from the sharp pain in his leg.

'Yes,' he sniffled.

'Good. Now close your eyes and do not open them until I leave this room.'

'Okay.'

'Okay what?'

'Okay, sir,' Another sniffle. Silver closed his eyes and hiccoughed as he heard Houndoom leaving with Archer; the door closed, he was alone. He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, still trying to properly catch his breath. He opened his eyes, slowly, still blinking back tears. Then, through blurred vision, he saw it. A small, familiar red and white object on the floor where Archer had been standing. A Pokéball. He leant forward and snatched it up, examining it carefully. He wanted to open it, desperately, but without knowing what was inside he was hesitant. He stood, the Pokéball clutched in his fist, and slowly opened his bedroom door.

'What is it?' He demanded, lifting himself up onto one of the kitchen chairs. Archer stared at him. 'Sir.'

'It's a Pokémon. It's yours, if you want it.'

'Why?'

'We don't take on Grunts without giving them a Pokémon.'

Silver put the Pokéball down on the table and stared at it, still unwilling to open it.

'Why are you giving me one?'

'You're old enough.'

'I'm nine.'

'Team Rocket has always welcomed anyone, despite their…' Archer trailed off as his eyes came to rest on Proton, polishing his knives. 'Flaws.'

'I'm nine,' Silver said again.

'I was eight when I convinced the girl next door to jump from the roof of the Celadon Department Store.'

'I could pick locks by ten,' Petrel added.

'I knew how to control everyone by the time I was your age,' Ariana said; Silver ignored her. Proton rolled his eyes from his place by the sink.

'I killed my brother when I was four.' Ariana gave him her most threatening glare, but he shrugged it off. 'What? I thought we were having some bullshit share your fucked up childhood moments so we could make him feel like his is less shitty.'

'The point is,' Archer sighed. 'You're old enough, and if you take that Pokémon and prove you can train it, you'll have your own job to do within the year.'

'That's too long.'

'Six months. Petrel will teach you.'

'Teach me what?'

'Everything a Grunt needs to know.'

'…okay,' Silver finally agreed. He grabbed the Pokéball again and slid down off his chair. 'But I'm still not talking to Ariana. Tell her.' He ran off after that; he had better things to do than stand around being yelled at. He'd spent his entire life around Rocket Grunts and he knew what they were like. They were weak, they craved power and acceptance. He was one of them now, the first in Johto. He had work to do.