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Silver had started doing chores around Lance's house (which he was still reluctant to think of as his house, even though he'd been living there for a while) as soon as the Champion had taken him in. He hadn't been asked to, but he did it anyway, in a sort of attempt to make himself useful to the dragon-tamer, to justify his presence under the man's roof and the cost of feeding and clothing him. If he didn't, he was sure Lance would throw him out eventually, and he couldn't afford to let that happen. So he did whatever needed to be done, and made sure he did it perfectly.
Or at least, he had until now.
Now he was screwed.
He'd been doing the dishes, and a glass had slipped out of his hand. Silver had watched helplessly in what felt like slow-motion as the cobalt blue vessel fell to the floor… and shattered. And it wasn't just any glass, either. It was the fancy one that had been given to Lance when he became Champion.
And now it was broken.
Lance was going to be furious.
Oh, Arceus, what was he going to do?! He knelt down and started frantically picking up the shards. What else could he do? He was already beyond doomed for having broken the thing, but maybe he could soften the blow – for whatever good that would do – by cleaning up his mess.
He didn't have much time to panic, though, because that was the moment Lance walked through the door. Silver stared like a Stantler in the headlights of a speeding truck, and Lance just stared right back for what felt like a thousand excruciating years.
"I… I'm sorry!" the boy croaked out, his voice cracking in panic. No, no, no! He couldn't cry, he couldn't look weak, he had already screwed up royally! "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! I didn't- I'm sorry! I can't- I shouldn't- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Damn it all, he could feel tears welling up, not now, not now!
Lance strode across the room toward him with singular purpose, his cape flaring behind him, and Silver instinctually cowered and shielded himself with his arms.
"Silver! Are you okay?"
Wait, what?
He felt Lance's hand on his shoulder – not striking a blow, just softly resting there. Silver cautiously opened his eyes and peered out between his forearms. Lance… didn't look mad? Maybe he didn't realize what had happened?
"I… I broke your Championship glass…"
"I see that," the dragon-tamer said, not taking his eyes off the boy. "Are you hurt?"
Before Silver could respond, Lance's eyebrows rose and he sucked in air through gritted teeth, eyes focused on the boy's hand – only then did the pain register. He unballed his fists, dropping the shards of glass he'd forgotten he was holding.
"Come on, kiddo, let's get this cleaned up," Lance said, and Silver reached out toward the shards again to pick up his mess. Only, that hadn't been what the Champion had meant, apparently, because he grabbed his wrist. "Don't." When he saw the confusion on Silver's face, he clarified. "The glass can wait. Let's deal with your cuts, first."
Silver let Lance lead him to the bathroom in a bit of a daze, and sat on the lid of the toilet while the Champion retrieved some supplies from the medicine cabinet and poured something onto a piece of cloth.
"You're… not mad about the glass?" he asked at last as Lance took his injured hand, palm up.
"No. I'm a little sad about it, but I'm not mad. It's just a glass," the Champion said gently. "This might sting," he warned, as he touched the cloth to the bleeding wounds. Silver gritted his teeth and carefully suppressed any reaction to the pain with practiced focus. Don't show weakness, don't show weakness, don't show weakness.
"But it's your Championship glass," the boy murmured. He stared down at the bandages the dragon-tamer was wrapping around his palm. He didn't understand. How could he be forgiven so easily for breaking something so priceless and irreplaceable?
"Things break," Lance said. "That's part of life. Nothing stays pristine forever. Now, have you got any other cuts? What about your knees?"
Silver tried to ignore the lump forming in his throat. "'M fine," he choked out past it. Get it together, he told himself, taking a few deep breaths.
"Alright. Come on, let's go deal with that glass, now."
The two returned to the kitchen, where Lance started carefully gathering up shards of blue glass off the floor. Silver moved to help him, but the Champion refused, on the grounds that he didn't want the boy to cut himself again. So instead, he just stood there, fidgeting with the bandages and feeling useless.
Surprisingly, instead of throwing the glass in the garbage, Lance put the pieces on the coffee table by the couch, only getting out a brush and dustpan to sweep up and dispose of the tiniest fragments.
"It looks like you bled a bit on the floor over here. Why don't you clean that up while I get something from my office?"
Silver nodded, glad to finally be useful, and cleaned up the blood. Then, for lack of anything else to do, he sat down on the couch next to one of Lance's Dragonites. It had its limbs and tail tucked underneath it, making it resemble a gigantic, scaly loaf of bread. Not having any other way to keep his hands occupied, Silver scratched the top of the dragon's head, which it seemed to appreciate.
The Champion came back into the room, cloak flaring dramatically, carrying some small glass jars, paper towels, and paintbrushes, which he set on the table next to the broken glass.
"What's that?" the boy asked, peering at the objects curiously as the dragon-tamer took a seat next to him.
Lance gave him that obnoxious we're-going-to-learn-something smile. "Lacquer and pigment, for kintsugi. Golden joinery, in the old tongue."
He opened one of the jars, which held a thick, dark substance, and dipped a paintbrush into it. He then carefully picked up a piece of glass and started brushing the lacquer onto the edges as he spoke. "Just because something is broken doesn't mean it's worthless."
"So you're gonna, what… put it back together?" Silver asked, watching as Lance used the lacquer to stick pieces of glass together. "But you can still see the cracks."
Lance smiled slightly, continuing to piece the broken glass back together with lacquer. "That's the point," he said. "When all the pieces are joined, I'll brush gold dust onto the seams. It'll stick to the lacquer, and when it dries, the whole glass will seem to be held together with gold."
He raised his eyes to look at the boy as he explained, "The cracks can't be undone, but they can be transformed. Just because something has been through rough times and shows some damage does not reduce its value. With careful enough restoration, it can come out all the better for it, even."
The tension was driving Silver mad now. This whole thing had been such an emotional rollercoaster he didn't know what to think or feel, so he resorted to his usual defense mechanism.
"You saying I'm broken?" he snapped, immediately regretting it and mentally kicking himself for it. He'd screwed up royally and Lance had forgiven him and he'd just gone and lashed out at him like an ungrateful idiot. It was like he was trying to get thrown out.
Lance stopped painting lacquer onto the glass and looked at him with… something? Concern? Pity? Ugh.
The dragon master seemed to consider his words carefully for a moment before speaking, his tone very even and gentle. "I'm saying you're healing, Silver. And that there's no shame in that. Everyone makes mistakes, and we all have our scars."
The boy said nothing, and Lance put the final few pieces of the glass in place. He opened the other jar and took a second paintbrush, and lightly started dusting the golden powder onto the lacquered seams. After a moment, he added onto his previous line of thought. "And you are now a part of this glass's story. I think, in the end, that makes it all the more precious to me."
Silver exaggeratedly feigned gagging and looked at the Dragonite curled up next to him. "Ugh, your trainer's a sap," he said to it. The dragon rumbled quietly. Despite it all, Silver couldn't keep himself from smiling – he just told himself he was smiling at the Dragonite's apparent agreement, and not at Lance's sentimental nonsense.
"Oh, Silver, before I forget," the Champion said, looking over at him with surprising seriousness.
He tensed and held his breath, waiting for Lance to speak.
"Don't put this – or anything else fixed with kintsugi – in the microwave."
Silver blinked twice, then started laughing hysterically.