While I can see yall are enjoying the story I wish for you to share your thoughts. I'd like to hear them, questions, concerns, comments, throw'em at me! So would you make a bear happy and kindly review?

Chapter 7

Returning Home

The wind rushed past, no longer a deafening whistle after being aloft for so long. To the east, the sky was just beginning to brighten, blacks and midnight purples giving way to soft pinks and dull oranges. Below, Fearow flapped with a steady, if somewhat slower, speed after flying nearly all night. They stopped a little after midnight in the mountains dividing the Johto region from Kanto so Fearow could rest and Gary could give him some oran berries but, after that, they'd been on their way once more.

For once, Gary was grateful for Red's stubborn attitude. Upon finding out Gary hadn't slept much after the Mews had delivered him, Red was more than a little insistent that the Oak boy got some sleep before he flew out to Pallet Town. After some arguing—and unwanted shocks from Pikachu—Gary reluctantly agreed, and borrowed a room from Nurse Joy.

By the time he'd woken, it was already night, and Red was out cold due to medication. The trainer grabbed his bag, his refreshed pokeballs, and, after a word with Nurse Joy, he was out the door and releasing Fearow. Now though, all Gary could see were the silhouettes of buildings scattered among trees, and the familiar plots of farmland dotting the outskirts.

He sighed, patting Fearow's shoulder to get his attention. "Almost home now. Just a little bit further."

"Row." The sharp-beaked pokemon agreed, flapping his wings that much faster. When they reached a building with a windmill on top, the pokemon banked, bleeding off speed and altitude until they landed outside the backdoor of the laboratory, and Gary's home since he could remember.

The trainer fed him another berry before patting his wing and gesturing to the ranch at large. "Go ahead, Fearow. We'll be here for a few days, so I'll call you when it's time to go."

"Row, Fea!" The flying type chirped, then took off in the direction of the aviary. Gary smiled at the bird's actions before remembering why he was here. His grandfather, and no doubt Ash's mother, thought Ash was dead. As much as Gary wanted to tell them otherwise, he couldn't. Not if he wanted to risk the plan Red was working on.

Turning around, Gary took in the porch, with its set of deck chairs and table angled to watch the sunset. Thick supports held up the second-floor balcony where he knew his grandfather liked to sit and watch over the ranch after a long day of work. It was a peaceful life and, after having seen what he already had on his travels, the young Oak couldn't knock his grandfather for wanting it. But...Gary was only eleven. He still had a lot more traveling to do and, now that Red was looking for trouble, he knew he was unlikely to live a peaceful life like this. His smile falling, the young Oak sighed. "Might as well get this over with."

On silent feet, he stepped onto the porch and approached the glass doors. The doors had locks, but his grandfather rarely used them—something about wayward trainers returning to town at odd hours. Knowing he'd arrived before the sun rose, Gary could appreciate that, so he kept quiet and crept into the kitchen.

Upon entering, his eyes rapidly adjusted to the soft light emitted by the LEDs built into the cabinet above the sink. The kitchen at large hadn't changed much, if at all in the months since he'd been gone. The double-sided fridge sat at the end of the counter neighboring the backdoor. Black, white, and gray flecked marble counters stretched an L shape into the corner, the double sink set into the same side as the fridge under the sliding window properly illuminated the earlier mentioned lights. At the other end of the counter, an induction top stove sat with a single cast iron tea kettle resting on one of the back burners. Dividing the kitchen from the rest of the house was a three-sided island backing the living room.

Still moving quietly, Gary set his bag on the island countertop then checked the kettle on the stove. To his delight, it was partially filled already, one of the lab assistants or even his grandfather himself had forgotten to empty it before they went to bed. Flicking the stovetop on, he then moved from cupboard to cupboard, grabbing the items he'd need for a cup of tea. By the time he'd pulled out what he needed and cleaned up the rest, the kettle was letting off a low hiss. Before it could rise to a high whistle that would wake the other occupants in the house, Gary turned off the heat.

Once his cup was poured and the kettle returned to the stove, he settled onto one of the stools surrounding the island.

XxX

"When you said you'd be home in a day, I didn't think you'd fly through the night." At the soft, gruff voice, Gary looked up from his cup and blinked. He knew it took his grandfather several cups of coffee and a breakfast bar to wake up, but this morning it appeared the elder Oak hadn't slept a wink since they'd talked. The Professor's hair was disheveled as if he'd been the target of a Thunderbolt attack, and his nightclothes were so rumpled Gary had a feeling the old man had done more tossing and turning than sleeping.

"Left as soon as I hung up. Fearow's fast, though we had to stop in the mountains to rest." Gary mumbled, shrugging. He knew his flying type was strong; if he had pushed, Fearow would've flown the whole night through. Then the trainer frowned, worriedly eyeing the elder Oak. "Why do you look like you got in a fight with an angry Pikachu?"

The words were barely out of his mouth before he flinched. "Sorry, Gramps."

Professor Oak simply smiled sadly, waving off the apology. "It's fine." He muttered. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No." Gary shook his head. "Got home a couple of hours ago and didn't want to wake you. To be honest, I'm not that hungry." He really wasn't. This whole ordeal made his appetite run away at the speed of a Dodrio. He'd have to watch his grandfather and the woman who was like a mother to him mourn, all while being unable to relieve their worries and tell them about Red.

When I get a hold of Red, I'm gonna thrash him for doing this, a small part of his brain vowed bitterly. Gary knew it had to be done this way, knew Red wanted what was best for Pallet Town, even if he had trouble coming to terms with why. The trainer just wished it didn't have to be so heartbreaking.

His grandfather moved over to the pantry, pulling down a box of his breakfast bars before tossing one to the young Oak. "That may be, but you still need to keep your energy up. After I've had coffee, you and I are going to take care of the pokemon and go see Delia. I didn't want to leave her alone, but that stubborn woman swore she was going to sic that Mr. Mime of her's on me if I didn't stop pestering."

"Better be careful or one of these days Mimey will catch you in a Trick Room." Gary snorted, setting the granola bar on the counter before moving to switch on the coffee maker. He'd known roughly when his Grandfather would get up, he just didn't hear the man moving around until he entered the kitchen, otherwise, a cup would have already been brewing.

The old man arched a brow, slowly chewing on a bite before he smirked. "Maybe I'll put you in front to take the effect. I don't know if you've ever been caught in one, but they're quite a fun puzzle to try and solve."

"Of course, you would like being caught in them." Gary groaned. "You're just as bad as As—" His voice died in his throat, causing the adolescent to choke on his words as a sudden rush of grief struck him. Even if Red was alive, Ash had been shattered. From what Gary saw and heard, Red had very few memories from growing up, most that remained were of their time together. His memories of Professor Oak, his pokemon, and his mother, were distorted, a confusing puzzle the trainer referred to as shards.

Seeing his expression, the elder Oak stepped forward, wrapping Gary in a tight hug. "I know, Gary. I know." He wanted to cry, to hide his face in his grandfather's shirt, like he had when he was a child, and wail until he had no more tears to give, but, he was a trainer now, almost twelve years old, and had experienced worse pain than was clinging to his chest. Instead, he sniffled and hugged the old man in return.

XxX

After a somber breakfast, Gary learned quickly his Grandfather wasn't one for wallowing, at least not in front of others. The elder Oak was quick to distract him by pulling him into taking care of the pokemon that called the ranch home. Between his grandfather, his assistants, and himself, all of the pokemon were fed, counted, and rotated nearly an hour quicker than usual. It hadn't escaped Gary's notice, however, that the elder Oak gave Ash's pokemon that much more attention. To the braver and friendlier pokemon, Professor Oak gave little treats, sometimes slipping in an extra scratch here or there. With the shyer ones, he showed more patience, taking it upon himself to make sure they were fed, pushing Gary and the assistants toward the other pokemon that called the ranch home.

The adolescent could commiserate with him, though. A trainer connected with every pokemon he caught, no matter how much time one spent with it. There would always be that recognition, that excitement a pokemon showed when their trainer appeared. But now...the connection Ash's pokemon had with him was gone. The longer Ash was gone, the more that bond would deteriorate until, eventually, the pokemon left, were given to a new trainer, or died.

Now, he and his grandfather were preparing to head to Ms. Ketchum's home. Gary stood in the mudroom, already ready, while Professor Oak wrapped up a few, last-minute details. When his grandfather strode past with yet another stack of papers in his hands, Gary sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "Gramps, we're going to be late."

"I'm almost done!" The elder Oak called back, as he set the stack on his desk. "There. When I get back I'll be able to go through—" He stopped, something on a report grabbing his attention.

Gary groaned, his normally deep well of patience running dry. "When you get back!" He snapped at the Professor. "You do this every time. You set a meeting, get lost in your research, then miss the meeting. Come on!"

"Alright, alright. I'm coming. Hold your ponyta." His grandfather chuckled, setting the report back down as he walked out. Once the old man caught up to him, Gary turned and headed out, slowing his pace to match. Oak looked at him, smiling softly, even if his eyes carried a grief Gary knew all too well. For, while Oak and Ms. Ketchum grieved for the eleven-year-old boy Ash Ketchum had been, Gary grieved for the memories and past his friend had lost. Yes, Red was Ash and vice versa, but there was a disconnect the trainer could not see that Gary could.

The mannerisms, the personality, the characteristics, they were all Ash's. But the hollow, determined look Gary saw in Red's eyes when he spoke about his goals was not the boy Gary grew up with. That was someone who was given a second chance at life. While Ash would've been happy going along for the ride, Red was going to grab the Tauros by the horns and run over every obstacle in his way. If Gary was honest, he was terrified of where that road would end. No. He wasn't terrified. He was afraid, yes, but he was also curious. A latent kind of curiosity and wanderlust that he'd locked away for a long while now. An urge he'd denied himself, to do something stupid, something brave, and something worth giving a pokecoin about—and now Red was giving him that chance to do so.

When the trainer saw a young pidgey land on a fence nearby, he frowned, his mind turning back to his earlier thoughts on Professor Oak's behavior with the pokemon. He'd never really thought about what would happen after a trainer died. "Hey, Gramps?" He asked quietly, the elder Oak humming in response. "What's going to happen to Ash's pokemon now that he's—you know."

His grandfather's expression fell, that little bit of happiness Gary had seen since his return disappearing in the face of reality's truths. "When a trainer is pronounced dead, but there is no body, then a three-month waiting period will kick in. If, after those three months have passed, and the trainer has not returned, his license is deactivated, and his pokemon are given the choice of continuing to live on the ranch, be released into the wild, or, in some cases, they move on to other trainers."

"What happens if the trainer does come back, but after the three months are up?" He hoped he could pass the question off as a 'what if' that his grandfather wouldn't think too much about. Really though, he wanted to know if there was a possibility Red could reclaim his pokemon if his memories ever returned.

The professor frowned, one hand rubbing his chin in thought. "I'm afraid I don't know. Over my years, I've only lost three trainers this way, and none of them have ever appeared after the three-month waiting period. I suppose, if one did, he could contest the ownership but, with his license deactivated, it would be difficult. A trainer only gets one license. If that is revoked because of his behavior or, in this situation, deactivated because he's presumed dead, then he would be unable to get another. Thus, he would be unable to carry or catch pokemon."

Red would lose his license. After beating Team Rocket, he wouldn't be able to come back and continue his journey—something Gary had a feeling hadn't changed even considering all this chaos. While Gary was lost in his thoughts, he kept walking, unaware he was passing a familiar white picket fence until he heard a quiet cough. Looking back questioningly, he found his grandfather standing in front of the mailbox, wearing a slightly amused expression.

"Did you forget where we were going?" He teased.

Gary blushed, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry, Gramps."

"It's okay." His grandfather reassured him softly. "I know the last couple of days have been a lot to take in and, unfortunately, it's not over just yet. We'll find even ground eventually." With that, he stepped through the gate. He approached the door, Gary stopping a few steps behind, examining the house in question.

It was a humble, two-story building, with walls painted white, and rose-red shingles topping a steep, a-frame roof. Four windows protruded from the said roof, each, Gary knew, leading to a different bedroom. More than once, he and Ash had gotten in trouble for climbing through them. Gramps always said they would break a leg, and Ms. Ketchum thought they would crack their heads, but the duo did neither. Instead, they became quite skilled at slipping in and out of the windows, their guardians none the wiser.

A small porch sat out front, backed by a sliding door constructed of miniature planes of glass. It wasn't hard to see one or two people occupied the residence; an outdoor table with only two chairs and a small potted plant, that appeared as if it hadn't been watered for a couple of days, claimed the outdoor space. Not that Gary could blame the owner for slacking in her daily routine. While losing a friend was hard, he couldn't imagine how much harder it was losing a son.

Professor Oak knocked on the door and, a few moments later, a humanoid-looking pokemon with wing-like shaped hair opened it. The pokemon was short and round, with pink, ball-like joints for shoulders and hips, and wore navy-blue jester shoes. Its species was Mr. Mime but, to Gary and his grandfather, the pokemon was always just Mimey. She may have been Ms. Ketchum's companion, but Gary grew up with her as his and Ash's babysitter. The pokemon was extremely adept at Psychic, and would often use the move to keep the boys from getting into, or causing, trouble.

Not that Gary would ever admit to either guardian just how much trouble they got into. Especially once he and Ash learned they could distract the psychic type by simply dropping dirt on the floor. Mimey had an unnatural obsession with using the vacuum and, on the occasions, Gary had slept over at Ash's house, he had been victim to the rude awakening that came with his face being vacuumed.

"Good afternoon, Mimey. Mind if we come in?" At the question, the pokemon tilted her head, smile fading, before she nodded and slowly stepped backward, pulling the door open wider. Walking in, Gary's nose almost immediately detected the delicious smells drifting from the kitchen and, after placing his shoes by the door, began heading in that direction. It was well known Ms. Ketchum made some of the best food in Pallet Town, some of the locals even encouraged her to open a small restaurant, but she always turned down the idea. Not out of arrogance, but because she wanted to spend her time with her son.

Now though...Gary wasn't too sure what the woman would do with her free time. If anything, he hoped she would open the restaurant just to keep herself busy, instead of drowning in grief. He knew his grandfather had the ranch and his research to keep him busy, and Gary had Red to worry about, but now that Ash was 'dead', there was very little for Ms. Ketchum to cling to.

Cutting through the warmly decorated living room, Gary turned a corner to find a familiar brunette standing in front of the stove, a wooden spoon in her hand. "Hi, Ms. Ketchum!" He called with a grin. The woman screamed, swinging around, spoon raised as if to smack him. Reacting on instinct, the trainer retreated a step, and the woman scowled, setting a hand to her chest.

"Gary, how many times must I tell you not to startle me like that?" She chastised him in that same polite tone she always used when he or Ash got in trouble.

"You know he's just going to do it anyway." Professor Oak answered in the trainer's stead. The old man was trying hard not to laugh, his lips twitching as he attempted to hide his expression.

Ms. Ketchum glared playfully at his grandfather before she waved her spoon at the island, where several plates of food were sitting. "Please, take a seat. The rest is just about to come off the stove."

As they settled into their seats, his grandfather looking over the food, Gary kept his attention on the woman in question. Having not known his mother growing up, Ms. Ketchum became like one to him, always taking care of him and watching him when the elder Oak needed to leave town for research. Even if she still moved with the same energy she usually had, it wasn't difficult for Gary to tell Ash's death was hitting her hard.

His heart ached. He wanted so badly to tell her the truth, to tell her that her son was alive and well but...Gary knew Ash wasn't. Red had a reason for hiding, for not wanting to reveal himself. Ash never had. That knowledge burned his tongue as if he'd eaten a fresh tomato berry, and he wanted nothing more than to spill it all to relieve that burn. Watching the woman that may as well be his mother struggle to smile, Gary made himself a silent vow. No matter what it takes, I'll keep Red safe until he can come home.