"So. When are you going to tell us about Takahiro?" Roger Oak's voice was quiet, but the gravity in his words were absolute. "You promised Sammy answers, and we're all quite invested in what you have to share."

Dean blanched at the sudden question, but had to admit he had forgotten about things in the hubbub. After listening to all of the townsfolk the night before, it was obvious that Pallet Town had been quite used to a rather isolationist existence. There was no way that he could have guessed that a simple request about a Rattata infestation would lead to this. Pallet Town lacked…well, everything. No large-scale mart, no real medical facilities, and no League presence. Just a bunch of farms, a port that was still primarily used for fishing, a bar, schoolhouse, and some homes. It would be an absolutely monumental task to bring Pallet Town into the current decade, and that's just what they had been attempting to do for the last day and a half.

He took a moment to breathe, carefully weighing out his response.

"I suppose that I've done everything I can as a Trainer. Never was one for paperwork. I'll wrap things up with a phone call to Headquarters and take the rest of the afternoon to answer what I can…" Dean couldn't tear his eyes away from the old man's expectant stare. His gaze drilled into him with an intensity that was unlike anything he had come to expect. It was obvious what Roger was saying with that look. "O-on second thought, I think I can make that phone call tomorrow. I'm sure the bigwigs will understand."

Roger continued to stare for another long moment before Dean realized that the man was actually being hesitant. The moment dragged on for an eternity, then another. But, finally with his mind apparently made up, Roger spoke.

"I believe that there is only one place we can do this where everyone can be in attendance."

It took Roger less than ten minutes to gather the family. His barked calls to assemble shook the rafters and had set a flock of Pidgey aflight as he shouted down the halls and out the back door. Sally was the first to arrive, her hands and apron still damp from hanging the wash. Sammy with Crescent in tow came scampering in, and finally Paul. Each one peppered the Oak patriarch in concern, but he simply told them to follow.

Dean expected them to simply remain there in the kitchen, but followed after the family as they marched down the hall into what he surmised was a study of some sort. But rather than an office or library, Dean stepped into his second surprise of the day.

It was a bedroom. The bedroom where the wife of his now departed friend lay curled, emaciated and frozen. He almost didn't recognize her in the state she was in, but it couldn't have been anyone else. Dean froze at the door.

"Come inside, Dean. Mirabelle needs answers too."

Dean gulped at the commanding tone that Roger used. His hair stood on end as he felt the heavy stares of the standing family. Cold sweat beaded upon his brow as he locked eyes with Sammy. The boy clearly took after his grandfather with how much fervor could be felt behind those tired, expectant eyes. Dean forced himself to look away in embarrassment. Roger had completely blindsided him, but he knew what needed to be done.

He approached the bed.

"Hello Mirabelle. I don't know how much you remember of me, but… it's Dean Rogers. Takahiro's commanding officer, and the man you made promise to watch over him. I'm…" Dean's voice hitched. "I'm sorry that I failed you."

The hollow form on the bed did not move.

"It is no consolation, but let me tell you how your husband saved my life and the lives of so many other men and women who were with us that day."