"His vital signs are weakening... If we can't steady his breathing soon, we're gonna lose him..."
The next thing that Gabriel knew, he was back on his father's ranch, at home. Several frightened tauros were being shooed past him by his siblings, onto a cold-floored truck. It was that time of year again; when the breeding tauros for this season had outlived their usefulness, and thus, had to be sent off for slaughter.
The boy watched as the pokemon attempted to escape the inevitable, only to be whipped back into line by his brother's houndoom. He looked away, knowing that nothing could be done about what was going on; to help the tauros escape would be but to delay their imminent deaths.
"Gabriel!"
The boy looked up at the source of the voice. A man in a heavy raincoat and work boots stood with a ferroseed at his side, by the back of truck.
"Stop mincing about, and give me a hand with these tauros, boy!"
Gabriel opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was silence. He tried lifting his legs to walk, but he was somehow stuck to the ground.
"Gabriel! Are you deaf?! Get over here!"
The boy was tsill unable to answer.
"Gabriel!"
"Gabriel!"
And then, Gabriel was back in the hospital, laid flat in a sterile white bed.