Chapter 27:

Harbors

Silver came to gradually, a consistent throbbing in his head making him wish he had remained unconscious.

Where am I?

The soft sound of a nearby fire crackling echoed in his ears. His arms were loosely strapped to his sides in the folds of a soft, warm blanket. The feel of the fleece against his chest told him that someone had taken his jacket and shirt off before bundling him up, but had, thankfully, left his pants on. The familiar warmth of Fang's sleeping form was curled up on his left shoulder.

Where am I? What… happened?

He slowly blinked his eyes open, as his vision adjusted to the initially overwhelming orange light. A couple feet in front of him was the campfire he had heard, the flames low but consistent. The soft fleece blanket wrapped around him was a dull, fading green color, a few frayed holes betraying its age.

Over the sound of the fire, Silver could hear the soft patters of the weakening rain, echoing within the walls of the slight cave that was serving as the shelter of whoever had found him.

But, who…?

"Ah, so you are alive," a calm voice said in near-disinterest. "Good, I was hoping that this extra stew wasn't going to have to go to waste."

Silver turned slightly towards the voice.

A lean-bodied teenage boy sat on a boulder on the other side of the flames from Silver, his green hair just barely short enough to not be poking his eyes, even as wet as it was. He wore a white, button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his dull green slacks had the shadows of still-drying mud halfway up to his knees. His face was expressionless, and he wasn't even looking at Silver, his focus instead on stirring the pot of the aforementioned stew cooking over the campfire.

"What?" Silver eventually asked. "Wh-who? Wh-where? What? …Why?" He stammered, unable to ask a full question.

"I could ask you the same thing," the other teen muttered, barely audible. "Just why did you swim across the gulf in that storm?"

"I… didn't," Silver avoided the question. "Technically." He looked away, towards his right. He saw the sleeping form of Red, the Scyther curled around his trainer protectively, even in slumber.

"Yeah, that would have been impossible for you," the green-haired teen glared at him over the pot. "I'll rephrase. Why did you make your Scyther carry you across the gulf in that storm?"

"I didn't. He insisted on it."

"I told you, Wally," A new voice chuckled from right behind Silver, making the red-haired teen turn sharply in surprise. "There's only one thing over there that would inspire a Scyther to swim across the gulf in a storm, with or without the extra burden of a trainer on his back."

"What the hell?" Silver gaped at the boy sitting atop of the tall boulder he had been sitting against.

This teen was a bit more powerfully built than his companion, though his frame was still generally slender. His brown eyes sparked with amusement as his smirked slightly down at Silver. His brown hair was cut rather short against his head, except for a small chunk of fringe by his forehead. He wore a black and green jacket, its collar popped up, and a pair of black pants, both of them somehow utterly dry and perfectly spotless, despite the moisture of rainwater still in his hair. He held some sort of strange green-and-white cap in one hand, while his chin rested in the palm of the other.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty."

"The hell?" Silver repeated, trying to move away from the intruder. Fortunately, the blanket was wrapped around him tight enough to restrict his movement, preventing him from back right into the campfire.

"Brendan, please don't do that!" Wally sighed. "I'd really rather not have that blanket in the fire. Again."

"How many times do I have to say, that wasn't my—!"

"What the hell is going on?" Silver barked. "Who the hell are you? Why?"

"You should thank that Totodile of yours," Wally said flatly. "He found us and wouldn't calm down until we followed him to where you and your Scyther were lying in the mud."

"We brought you to our camp to get you out of the storm, to let you rest and dry off," Brendan explained further. "That was last night. And, to answer your next question, my name is Brendan Birch and this is Wally."

"Wallace!" Wally hissed through a clenched jaw.

"I'm telling you, man, you just don't pull that name off."

"Why?" Silver asked again.

"Look at him." Brendan raised a brow. "Does he look like a—?'

"And, just what does that mean?"

"No!" Silver snapped. "Why?" He repeated.

Brendan and Wally exchanged a glance.

"Do we need a reason to help someone in trouble?" Brendan asked. "Or, would you have rather we let you die out there?"

"Trouble? Die?"

"Team Rocket was in full force on the other side of that gulf, chasing after somebody," Wally clarified. "The storm was too heavy for Archie to make out anything, but he saw that they were clearly agitated."

"You mean," Brendan looked at Silver, "you weren't the person they were after? You didn't try to attack them, or anything?"

Silver looked back up at him, but said nothing.

Shit.

"Brendan, this guy isn't exactly the type of trainer that would be able to stand up against the Team on his own, even with that sword." Wally shook his head, before looking at Silver. "Run away from home?"

Silver opened his mouth, but couldn't think of what to say, let alone how to say it.

"Dude?" Brendan asked after a long pause.

"Uh…" Silver finally found his voice. "Um, sure… something like that." He avoided eye contact, looking at the sleeping Scyther next to him. "You said there were Rockets out there?"

What do they…? Silver looked back and forth between them several times, trying to make the motion as casual and nonthreatening as he could.

Suddenly, he recognized the brown-haired teen, the one named Brendan. He forced himself to remain expressionless in a desperate battle to hide his surprise.

The other boy, Silver recognized him. From the security footage…. Was that last night? It's the one with the Swampert, the one who was with….

With Gyles's son, the very thought sparked a burst of rage in his stomach.

There's no way he can recognize me, he calmed himself down almost immediately. I wasn't in the lab during the attack. And the other guy…

"There was a bit of a swarm roaming around last night," Wally muttered. "They were certainly looking for someone." He poured a few ladlefuls of the stew into a soup bowl. "You mean, you didn't notice them at all last night?"

"It was hard to see or hear much of anything in that storm." Silver shrugged, trying to reveal as little of the truth as he could without outright lying. "The last thing I remember was Red dragging me with him across the gulf and collapsing in the mud."

"See?" Brendan jumped off of his boulder as Wally handed Silver his breakfast. Silver muttered his thanks as the brown-haired teen approached his companion. "What did I tell you?" Brendan said in a tone that implied a continuation of a previous argument. "Please?" He clasped his hands together, giving Wally a mildly goofy grin.

Wally sighed.

"Excuse us, would you?" He said to Silver before grabbing Brendan by the sleeve of his jacket and dragging him out of the cave, out of sight and earshot.

Into the rain? Silver tilted his head in confusion. It's not like they can honestly expect me to think they're talking about something other than me at the moment. Not after… that. Silver took a few more bites of the stew before gently taking Fang off of his shoulder—how the Totodile managed to not only hold on but sleep through all of that, he had no clue. Silver placed him next to Red, before standing up and out of the folds of the fleece blanket. He walked over towards the cave entrance, sticking to the wall. So, then, what do they…?

"What is it with you and strays?" Wally's voice hissed, just above the volume of the soft rainfall. "Why do you feel the need to take in every single living thing that gets so much as a paper cut and—?"

"I took in you, remember?" Brendan's voice chuckled.

"I actually needed help back then."

"And now?"

"Now, I'm keeping you from getting killed," Wally sounded irritated.

"You used to be fun," Brendan groaned. "You used to be happy and trusting."

"You know why I'm not anymore."

"That's not fair, Wally," Brendan's voice darkened. "Don't you think I blame myself enough for that?"

What the hell? Silver narrowed his eyes.

"Besides, we're the ones that walked away," Brendan stressed.

"Exactly," Wally sounded bitter. "We can't count on him being just like us simply because it's how it looks. Remember how it looked to the cops?"

"Remember how afraid we were to tell the truth?" Brendan countered. "How afraid we were of the truth itself?"

"That's—!"

"He's a kid, just like us," Brendan cut him off. "We have to offer him help."

"What if—?"

"What if he is?" Brendan interrupted Wally's retort again. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend, remember?"

"But—!"

"I remember someone else who ran from home and almost got himself killed in about three different ways before I rescued him. Someone who managed to piss off Team Magma, back in Hoenn."

Wally sighed.

This Brendan guy sounds like he wants to adopt me. Silver was almost amused. Maybe I should let them help. The Team will likely be looking for me for a while. They can help me get as far away from here as possible, and… and it'll be the last thing they'll expect. They know me to prefer to be alone. They won't be looking for a group of teenage boys; they'll be looking for loners.

And, the other guy, Wally… he might have been a part of the other force we fought, the guerilla attack from the forest. They had quite a team of Psychic-types to fight like that from the shadows of the trees. But, if we couldn't see them, then maybe they had trouble making us out, too. Wally's just probably suspicious in general. He can't possibly have proof that I was a Rocket.

Silver sighed.

Either way, it looks like I won't be reaching my preferred destination anytime soon.

Just as well, he decided after a moment. My father will expect me to head directly there. It's the only place I have any connection to, anymore. I should lie low for a while, until it's safe to finally….

Silver walked back towards Red and Fang.

I just hope that they don't expect me to be talkative….

…

…

"No sign of him, sir," the words came in a sea of static through the small, cracked hand radio.

"Understood." Archer sighed his response. He ran his free hand through his short, blue hair in frustration. He turned towards the desk where Giovanni sat in an expressionless silence. "Nothing, sir." He relayed the message from the patrol.

"I can't believe that we lost him." Ariana scowled. "That little punk couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag."

"Well, that Mew certainly could," Archer reminded her. "Even two top Elites would need help bringing down a Mew."

Giovanni broke his thousand-yard stare to look at Archer.

"A Mew?"

"A particularly unusual one, too," Ariana said. "I think it may have been Shiny. Our scientists theorized that a Shiny Mew would be a darker shade, but it was blue, at least."

"With a tuft of brown hair," Archer added softly.

Giovanni stood up.

"Ariana." He turned to her. "Go and bring in the patrols. Call off the search."

"What!" She yelped. "You want us to let that traitor go free?"

"He happens to be my son," he reminded her. "And he's not a traitor."

"What."

Archer narrowed his eyes, though he didn't say anything.

"I've sent him on a deep undercover mission," Giovanni said in a flat tone. "In order for it to work, in order to create a plausible cover for him, he had to depart in a particularly… explosive fashion to make it appear to anyone and everyone that witnessed it that he is a hated enemy of the Team. What easier way is there to gain the trust of others than to unite against a common foe?"

"Why wouldn't you inform your Elites about this, then?"

"I did inform one," Giovanni countered. "Elite Silver understood what he was doing. Besides, the details are above your pay grade."

Ariana glared at him for a moment.

"Yes, sir," she relented. "I'll go call off the search."

Ariana left, leaving Giovanni and Archer alone in his office.

"There's no mission," Archer muttered when she was well out of earshot. "You're letting Silver go."

"Every parent must let go at some point."

"Your mother didn't."

"Oh, she did," Giovanni gave a soft smile. "I just didn't give her a choice. Funny, I suppose. The very thing she threatened to keep me in control was the one thing that finally gave me the push I needed to break from it."

"And look at where you are now."

Giovanni hesitated.

"Only because you saved my life that night."

"I think I saved more than that," Archer chuckled lightly.

Giovanni looked at him, but didn't respond. Instead, the tall man walked over to a portrait that hung on one wall, the paint completely covered by several layers of dust. He gently brushed some of it away with his hand, revealing the faces underneath.

A manipulative woman, a broken man, and a captive son. Her eyes were cold and piercing, their power immortalized even so long after her violent death. Her feminine business suit revealed her taste for luxury, and the dark crimson color was the same shade as the blood of all those she'd killed to attain her luxuries. Her husband didn't smile. He had never smiled, except for a few stolen moments, those few times that Giovanni remembered his father being… being his father. The man's long red hair was tied back into a sort of ponytail, and his hand rested on his son's shoulder, as if trying to protect him.

The boy had his mother's black hair, his father's blue eyes, and the build of neither. Giovanni still couldn't believe how scrawny of a teenager he had been. How soft-looking he had been. How terrified, how scarred, how desperate he had been.

How human he once was.

"Sir?"

"I never read the file," Giovanni muttered. "What…what did Madame Boss say was the cause of death?"

"All these years, and you never even read—?" Archer didn't understand.

"Tell me, then."

"Officially, it was said he was killed by… deserters."

Giovanni sighed.

"That was years ago," Archer reminded him. "Why are you bringing it up n—?"

"He said he wasn't like me," Giovanni interrupted in a soft tone. "I didn't know that… that he'd been taught…"

Archer gaped at him.

"It would seem that only one person has lived long enough to keep their promise to protect him. Only one living soul that hasn't betrayed him." Giovanni turned back to Archer. "No." Giovanni shook his head. "Silver has new protectors, now. His team will stand beside him. I picked that Scyther for him because I knew it would be loyal to him, even to the death. I just hope he's stronger than I was, than I am."

"Sir?" It had been a very long time since Archer had seen Giovanni so… vulnerable.

He was almost… human.

"I should have expected this."

"What?" Archer asked. "Him to leave? To abandon the Team?"

"Of course." Giovanni turned back to the portrait, the corners of his mouth barely curved in the faintest smile. "It's in his blood, after all."

…

…

"Aura, we don't have time for this."

"Shhh!" Aura raised a paw to hush her companion. "You'll make me lose count."

"Right," Misty sighed. "The lights and music and people aren't distracting. Just me."

The Lucario ignored her. Aura was staring down at a five-by-five grid of green squares on the screen built into the table in front of her. Several of the squares were instead colored a slightly reddish brown, a black number on it, mostly twos, with a single three on the board. Most of the other, still green squares had crude, yellow notes detailing the Lucario's estimated guess as to what they concealed.

The lights and sounds of the surrounding Game Corner didn't seem to faze the Lucario's concentration in the least bit, though they were beginning to give her human companion a headache.

Misty shook her head. At least they were making better time than they had expected. Suk had wanted to get them on their way as soon as possible after Ash had completed the Rock Element's Test. He had also wanted to prevent gathering the attention of Team Rocket, who still had a heavy presence in the area. So the Rock Sage had taken them through a series of underground tunnels that, in just a couple of days, had led them almost straight into Goldenrod.

They were in serious need of supplies, now. Misty and Aura had volunteered to buy some while Nyx helped Ash with his own Elemental training in the outskirts of town.

Better leave the supplies to someone capable of concentrating, Misty smiled. We don't want another incident like the desert again. At the very least, we shouldn't let Ash do anything important by himself for a while.

"Aura, shouldn't we be going?"

"We got our supplies," she grumbled rapidly waving a hand at Misty again. "We've got time. Now, hush!"

"Glad we didn't bring Jerzy," Misty chuckled. "He'd probably combust if he ever set foot in here."

"Aaaagh!" Aura groaned, as Misty's words distracted her just long enough that she tapped the wrong square, revealing a Voltorb instead of the three she'd intended on. "I was two flips away from reaching level seven!"

"Why are you gambling, anyway, Aura?" Misty asked. "You didn't have much of your own money to start with."

"I've more than tripled it," Aura grumbled, tossing a small, purple pouch up and down with one hand.

"Where did you get that in the first place?"

Aura was quiet for a while, as they left the table and the Corner. Misty didn't push the question. As they stepped, blinking, out into the sun again, Aura pocketed the small, soft pouch with a sigh.

"A friend gave it to me…a long time ago."

"How long?" Misty asked.

Aura looked at her as they walked down the city sidewalk. How long? Didn't she mean who?

This human is… very strange.

"Over… sixteen years ago. I was a hatchling."

Keep it, little one. The voices of the past echoed in her mind once more.

What is she going to do with that?

Whatever she wants. She's earned it, after all.

I haven't done anything, she remembered pointing out.

You're spoiling her again. Her father sounded almost amused.

Maybe. She is family, after all. Just as much as anyone else in this house.

"He was the bravest soul I'd ever met," Aura admitted in a voice barely audible to Misty.

"What happened to him, then?" Misty asked as they took a shortcut through a back alleyway.

"They…. He…." Aura shook her head, before shooting Misty a glare. "He was destroyed."

"So, you'd waste that gift on a gamble?" Misty narrowed her eyes at her.

"Life is a gamble," Aura argued. "Life is about taking chances, or letting them take you."

"What does that mean?"

This money was supposed to save us, to buy our freedom, Aura thought to herself. Instead, I almost died and he….

Aura shook her head, stopping in her tracks.

"It means that I'm not a damn coward," Aura snarled. "At least I'm not afraid of how I feel."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Misty stopped, turning back to face her.

"You like him." Aura crossed her arms, the wind in the empty alley ruffling her fur and leather jacket.

"Excuse me?"

"The awkward glances, the uncomfortable silences, that embarrassing way you fuss over him with increasing frequency." Aura shook her head. "Admit it. I want to hear you say the words."

"I-I…" Misty stammered, taking the slightest step backward. "I d-don't know wh-what you're talk-talking about."

"You. Have. A Crush. On Ash." Aura punctuated each word with a step forward until she was standing right in front of Misty, getting in her face. "Admit it."

Misty didn't say anything for a long moment.

"Or," Aura eventually said, "I could just tell him myself."

"I…I…" Misty finally found her voice. "I mean…. If…if you say so."

Aura sighed. The Lucario stepped back a few paces, shaking her head.

"That's what I mean," Aura said. "You won't even admit it to yourself, let alone me. Why are you so… hesitant about this? It's not that hard. You're a girl. He's a guy. You like him. He might like you. Why is that so complicated?"

"How would you know?" Misty snapped in retort. "You've said yourself that you've never had a mate."

Aura flattened her ears against the back of her head, looking down at her paws. She sighed again.

"Because I know," she whispered. "I know what… what it means… for things to be… complicated. To be powerless." She looked back up at Misty. "This is not like that. You're just being cowardly."

"I—!"

"Stop running away," Aura cut her off. "Be there. I know it's cliché, but just be yourself. Running only brings regret, and regret only brings pain."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Aura hesitated.

"Now who's afraid of her feelings?" Misty chuckled lightly. "You like me. You trust me. Us. You like and trust all of us. Even Ash." Especially Ash.

"I don't like Jerzy," Aura deflected.

"None of us do; Jerzy doesn't count."

"If there's anyone alive I still trust, that I can trust," Aura scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, "it's you. I don't… I…." She exhaled through her nose deeply. "I know what that regret, what that pain feels like. You shouldn't. Not because of something so simple to overcome as fear."

"What's so much harder to fight than fear?"

Aura looked at her for a moment.

I can't tell her. She wouldn't understand.

She'd shun me, too.

"Everything," Aura eventually settled on, refusing to look her companion in the eye. "Just… remember something…. Courage is not found on the battlefield. Courage is found in the heart."

"Aura?" Misty narrowed her eyes. The Lucario was acting very odd.

Did something happen on the Test? Something that scared her enough that she'd actually reach out like this?

"Come on," Aura walked by her, continuing down the alleyway again. "We don't have time for this. Let's get back to the others before that dolt gets himself killed."

Misty smiled slightly, following after her.

"What Element is next, again?" Misty decided to change the subject.

"Um," Aura tried to recall the order of the Cycle. "I think it's… Bug Type, next."

"Bug?" Misty repeated. "Y-you sure?"

"Yeah, why?" Aura looked at her. "Wait. You're… you're joking." The Lucario buried her face in her palm.

Oh, dear Arceus, we have so much work to do….

…

…

"What's her name, again?"

Silver looked at Wally, turning from his Sneasel to do so. After a moment, he turned back and continued to polish the Dark-Type Pokémon's claws with a cloth.

"Minerva," he eventually muttered.

"Where did you catch her?"

"My…uh," Silver hesitated. No harm in the truth, right? Just…without the…finer details. "My father gave her to me. Belated birthday gift, I guess."

"Unusual for a trainer to stay at home for so long," Wally pointed out.

"My father didn't—didn't approve of me traveling around."

"What about your mother?" Wally asked. "I haven't heard you mention her once, yet."

Silver hesitated again.

"Um… there's… there's not much to mention."

Wally narrowed his eyes. "I think I'm beginning to understand why you ran away."

I highly doubt that. "If you say so," Silver said, rubbing his forehead. A dull buzzing sound persisted in his skull.

"Something wrong?"

"Headache?" Silver raised a brow.

"Would you like something for that?"

So Brendan wanted to adopt me, but Wally's the one that's going to fuss over me constantly? Silver raised his brow higher. What have I gotten myself into?

"GUYS!" Brendan's voice exploded from the Violet City Pokémon Center's front door as he sprung out to where they sat on a bench across the street from it. "GUYS! GUYSGUYSGUYS! GUYS!" He bounced up and down in front of Wally, clearly talking to him more than to Silver.

"What, Brendan?" Wally sighed, his eyes narrowed in disinterest.

"I was talking to Dad."

"And this is news to me how?" Wally looked away.

"He said that there's a swarm of Wynaut just outside Slateport!" Brendan was still bobbing up and down in his excitement.

"Wonderful." Wally still didn't look at him.

"Aren't Wynaut native to Hoenn?" Silver asked. "What's so special about a swarm outside Slateport?"

"They're pink!" Brendan gave an even larger grin.

"Dear God." Wally buried his face in his hand.

"So, can we go?" Brendan finally stopped bouncing. "Can we? Can we, please? Please, please, pleasepleaseplease? Can we, can we, can we?"

Wally looked over to Silver. "Never have children."

"Not a problem," Silver muttered back.

"Fine, if you won't go, I'll just go alone." Brendan crossed his arms.

Wally sighed again.

"What about Silver? Shouldn't he have a say?"

"Oh, now you care!" Brendan spat in mock offense, turning and storming away in an overly dramatic fashion.

"I don't care where we go," Silver muttered. "I just want to get as far away from my father as possible." Plus, the Team hasn't set up much of a force in Hoenn, yet. And, they're stationed in Lilycove, anyway. They'll be too far away to even catch rumors in time, even if they could spare so much as a single Grunt, which I doubt.

"Right."

"Is he always like this?" Silver changed the subject, sensing Wally's suspicion.

"He's rather calm today."

Silver looked at him.

"That was a joke."

Silver raised his brow again.

"I joke sometimes," Wally insisted. "What? I do! I can be funny!"

"I don't laugh." Silver kicked a pebble across the street. "Anymore."

"Right," Wally sighed. "We need to work on your people skills."

My people skills? Silver held back a scoff.

"So, are we going?" Brendan's voice broke through his thoughts, causing him to turn sharply around, stumbling off of the bench in the process.

"What… hell?" Silver gaped at him. "Where did you come from?"

"You get used to that," Wally muttered. "Just be happy his girlfriend doesn't travel with us. Having two around is almost utter hell."

"Oh, you think we're cute, and you know it."

"Come on, Minerva," Silver motioned to the Sneasel as he began to walk down the street. "If I'm getting on a plane with him, then I'm going to need to buy… something."

"You going to get painkillers?" Wally allowed himself a slight smile.

"Nope," Silver glanced back, holding back a smile. He turned forward again before muttering to himself. "I'm going to go buy the whole damn pharmacy."

…

…

A/N: I don't even know. Brendan…I just… don't know. Just wait until Silver meets Brendan's Linoone…

No, I will not explain any of the three big mysteries discussed by major characters in this chapter. Yet.