Gary froze.

His brain struggled to process what he had just heard.

"You didn't just punch it in."

He turned his head slowly, staring at Ash like he had just spoken an alien language.

"Ash," Gary said, voice controlled but deadly serious, "what do you mean by that?"

Ash blinked, confused. "Uh... I mean, you didn't just jab the needle in like the other doctors did."

Gary felt something ugly churn in his chest. His grip on the alcohol wipe tightened.

"...Ash," he said carefully, "are you telling me that someone jabbed you with a needle? No warning? No care?"

Ash just shrugged, looking away. "I mean... isn't that just how it is? Shots hurt. They always do."

Gary's blood boiled.

"Oh, hell no," a voice snapped.

Gary turned his head sharply, only to see the receptionist—who was still crouched nearby—glaring daggers at the unseen, unknown doctor Ash was talking about.

"What kind of so-called doctor does that to a kid?" she seethed.

Ash looked between them, bewildered. "Guys, it's really not a big deal—"

"Not a big deal?!" Gary exploded. "Who the hell told you that shots are supposed to hurt like that?!"

Ash flinched slightly, and immediately, Gary dialed it back. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "Sorry, sorry, buddy. I'm not mad at you."

The anger wasn't for Ash.

It was for whoever did this to him.

"Seriously," Gary said, voice softer but still tense, "who told you shots are supposed to hurt?"

Ash fidgeted. "I mean... no one? I just... every time I got one, it hurt. A lot. So I just figured... that's how it is."

Gary let out a slow, shaky breath through his nose. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to stay calm.

The receptionist, however, was still furious. "Where was this, exactly?"

Ash blinked. "Huh?"

"Where, Ash," she repeated firmly. "What hospital?"

Ash scratched his cheek, hesitant. "...Uh, not here. Somewhere else. A while ago."

Gary's eye twitched. "Of course it was somewhere else," he muttered. "No real doctor would do that here."

Ash frowned slightly. "I don't get it. Isn't a shot just a shot?"

"No," Gary and the receptionist both said immediately.

Ash blinked. "...Oh."

Gary sighed, rubbing his temples. "Ash, buddy. A shot should never feel like someone is stabbing you. There's a proper way to do it. It should be quick, yeah, but not rushed. And it should definitely not leave you afraid to go to the doctor."

Ash hesitated, looking down at Pikachu, who was still clutched way too tightly in his arms. The little Pokémon squeaked weakly, squished between Ash's grip.

Gary winced. "Ashy Boy, uh... you might wanna let Pikachu breathe."

Ash looked down, startled. "Oh! Sorry, buddy!" He quickly loosened his grip, and Pikachu gasped for air.

Gary exhaled, rubbing Ash's arm. "Here, kiddo. Gimme your hand."

Ash frowned in confusion but obeyed. Gary immediately took it in his own, squeezing lightly.

"There," he said simply. "Now you have something to hold."

Ash stared at their hands for a moment, his expression unreadable.

Then, before Gary could react—

WHAM.

Ash latched onto him.

A tight hug.

Not a soft, hesitant, I-just-need-some-support hug.

A cling-on-for-dear-life hug.

Gary sucked in a breath as Ash squeezed him with all the strength in his arms. "Oof— okay, okay, bud, I gotcha."

The receptionist looked down at them, her anger momentarily replaced with a small, fond smile.

Gary sighed and draped an arm around Ash, rubbing his back gently.

"...You really are scared of doctors, huh?" he murmured.

Ash hesitated before giving a small nod against Gary's shoulder.

Even him.

That stung a little.

But it wasn't Ash's fault.

Gary exhaled, giving Ash one last reassuring squeeze before pulling back just enough to see his face.

"Alright, listen up, buddy," he said, voice softer now. "We're doing this right. Okay?"

Ash hesitated, but he nodded.

Gary smiled slightly. "Good. Now, I am gonna give you the shot. But I'm gonna do it my way. Which means..."

He gently took Ash's arm and looped it over his own shoulder, shifting slightly so that Ash was practically leaning against him.

Ash blinked, confused. "Uh... Gary?"

Gary hummed. "Hm?"

"This is... weird."

Gary chuckled. "Yeah, but you like hugs, don'tcha?"

Ash blinked.

Then he huffed. "Fair point."

Gary grinned. "Alright, kiddo. Keep your arm relaxed, 'kay?"

Ash nodded weakly.

"Deep breath."

Ash inhaled.

The needle went in.

And then—

It was done.

Ash blinked, confused. "Wait. That was it?"

Gary smirked, pressing a cotton ball over the spot. "Yup. That was it."

Ash stared at his arm, baffled.

"That didn't even hurt."

Gary snorted. "Wow, it's almost like I know what I'm doing."

Ash pouted. "Shut up."

Gary just grinned, ruffling his hair. "C'mon, Ashy Boy. Let's get you a sticker for being so brave."

Ash groaned, hiding his face in Gary's shoulder. "You're the worst."

Gary just laughed.

The moment Ash said those words—"A shot's supposed to hurt. It always does."—Gary felt something inside him snap.

His grip on the alcohol wipe tightened, and he exhaled slowly, trying to keep his voice steady.

"...Woah, woah, woah. Who told you that, Ash?"

Ash blinked at him, confused by the reaction. "Huh? I mean... isn't it obvious?"

Gary looked at him. Dead in the eye. And whatever he saw made Ash shift uncomfortably.

"No, it is not obvious." Gary's voice was sharp but controlled. "Who made you think that?"

Ash hesitated. Then, after a moment, he sighed, shifting a little. "...The last hospital."

Gary's fingers curled around the alcohol wipe.

The receptionist, who had been quietly listening, immediately stiffened. "Excuse me?"

Ash glanced at her. "...Yeah. They were always busy, so they didn't have time to, y'know... do it slowly. They'd just do it quick and get it over with. And I mean, yeah, it hurt a lot, but—"

Gary inhaled sharply, pressing his fingers into his temples. "Oh my Arceus, I'm going to commit an actual crime."

Ash blinked. "Huh?"

The receptionist slammed a clipboard onto her desk, expression dark. "They just stabbed you with it? Like it was nothing?"

Ash flinched at the loud noise, his fingers tightening around Pikachu. "I mean... yeah?"

Gary buried his face in his hands.

This was not happening. This was not real.

His best friend—his Ash—had been walking around thinking that shots were supposed to hurt, that it was normal for doctors to just jab a needle in without a second thought, because that's all he had ever known.

The thought made Gary's stomach turn.

He had spent years wondering why Ash was so tense every time he had to get a shot. Why he would hide. Why he'd make excuses. Why he'd panic at just the sight of a needle.

And now?

Now, Gary knew.

And he was furious.

"That is not how it's supposed to be, Ash!" he snapped, eyes blazing. "I don't care how busy a hospital is, that is not how you treat a patient—especially not a kid!"

Ash shrugged slightly, his grip tightening around Pikachu. "It's fine. I mean, it's just a shot—"

"It is NOT fine!" the receptionist cut in. "It is the opposite of fine!"

Ash blinked, looking between the two of them, slightly overwhelmed. "...Why are you guys so mad? It's just a shot."

Gary let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Just a shot? Ash, look at yourself!"

Ash hesitated.

Gary gestured to his hands. "You were hiding under a desk, shaking, clenching your fists so tight that you left marks on your own skin. You're holding Pikachu like your life depends on it—"

Pikachu let out a weak, suffocated squeak.

Gary sighed and reached out, prying Pikachu gently from Ash's grip. "—and now Pikachu's fighting for his life."

Ash immediately looked guilty, letting Pikachu scramble onto the desk, gulping in fresh air. "Oh... sorry, buddy."

Pikachu shot him a tired but understanding look, shaking his fur out.

Gary took a deep breath, his frustration fading into something softer. He placed a hand on Ash's arm. "Ash, listen to me, okay? A shot doesn't have to hurt. It's supposed to be quick and easy. It shouldn't make you feel like you have to hide under a desk just to avoid it. No doctor should ever make you feel like that."

Ash swallowed. He wanted to believe Gary, but... it had always hurt. Every time.

Still, Gary was here. He wasn't rushing him. He wasn't brushing it off. He wasn't acting like Ash was being dramatic.

And that... meant something.

Gary sighed, shaking his head. "That hospital is lucky I don't know their name, or I'd be knocking on their door right now."

The receptionist muttered, "I could find out."

Gary gave her a sharp look. "Not helping."

She crossed her arms. "Just saying."

Ash watched them argue, his nerves calming just a little. But then, he remembered something. His eyes flickered back to Gary.

"...You were mad at them," Ash said slowly. "But... you're still a doctor."

Gary paused.

And then it hit him.

Ash had been afraid of him, too.

Not just the needle. Him.

It had been subtle—so subtle that Gary hadn't realized. The way Ash avoided looking at him when he stepped out of the exam room. The way he hid. The way his hands shook even when Gary was right there, trying to help him.

Gary's chest ached.

His best friend was scared of doctors.

Even him.

"...Ash," Gary said softly, "you do know I'm not like them, right?"

Ash hesitated.

"...I know." His voice was quiet. "But... you're still a doctor."

Gary let out a slow breath. He gently took Ash's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Okay," he said. "Then how about this? Right now, I'm not Dr. Oak. I'm just Gary."

Ash finally looked at him. "...Just Gary?"

Gary nodded, offering a small smile. "Just Gary."

Ash stared for a moment, then... slowly, his shoulders relaxed.

Gary's smile grew. "Alright, buddy. You ready?"

Ash hesitated. He glanced at the needle in Gary's hand.

Then, after a moment, he nodded.

Gary's voice was soft. "Alright. You wanna hold onto something?"

Ash looked down at Pikachu, who immediately squeaked in protest.

Gary chuckled. "Not Pikachu."

Ash hesitated again.

Gary, without thinking, reached out and offered his hand.

"...Here."

Ash blinked at it.

Then—before Gary could even process it—Ash launched himself at him, wrapping his arms tight around Gary's shoulders, squeezing hard.

Gary nearly stumbled. "Whoa—!"

Ash buried his face in Gary's shoulder. "This is easier."

Gary huffed out a breath, arms wrapping around Ash in return. "Alright, alright. Squeeze the life out of me, why don't you?"

The receptionist snickered. "You did ask."

Gary rolled his eyes, then, as gently as he could, shifted slightly. He moved one arm under Ash's, pressing the cold alcohol wipe to his shoulder.

Ash tensed slightly, but Gary just rubbed his back. "Relax, Ashy Boy. Just like before. Deep breaths, okay?"

Ash nodded into his shoulder, breathing deeply.

Gary positioned the needle.

A quick press. A slight pinch.

And it was done.

Ash barely noticed.

Gary pulled away slightly, smiling. "That's how it's supposed to be, buddy."

Ash blinked. "...That was it?"

Gary nodded, chuckling. "That was it."

Ash stared at him, stunned.

Then, finally, he let out a small, relieved laugh. "Huh... That really didn't hurt."

Gary smirked. "Told you."

The receptionist grinned. "See? Our Dr. Oak's one of the good ones."

Gary rolled his eyes. "Still just Gary right now, thanks."

Ash chuckled.

And for the first time ever, a doctor's office didn't feel so scary.

Gary's heart sank like a rock in a pond.

The weight of Ash's words was like a slap to the face.

"You didn't just punch it in."

"It's fine. A shot's supposed to hurt. It always does."

Gary had always known Ash was a little squeamish about needles—most people were—but this? This wasn't just fear. This was conditioning.

He took a slow breath and forced himself to stay calm. "Who told you that, buddy?"

Ash shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I dunno. It's just... normal. Doctors are supposed to give shots. Shots hurt. That's how it works."

Gary pressed his lips into a thin line. His grip on the syringe tightened. That's how it works, huh?

He glanced at the receptionist, who was now sitting on her chair, listening with a deepening frown.

"Dr. Oak," she said—because everyone here called him Dr. Oak except for Ash—"Are you hearing this?"

"Oh, I'm hearing it," Gary muttered darkly. "And I don't like what I'm hearing."

Ash blinked at their reactions, confused. "Why are you guys so mad?"

"Because," the receptionist snapped, "you just told us that some doctor at another hospital gave you shots like they were jabbing a dartboard!"

Gary exhaled sharply through his nose. "Exactly. And Ash, buddy, a shot is not supposed to be some unbearable, traumatic experience. If someone made you feel like it is—" His fingers clenched around the syringe, white-knuckled. "—then they weren't doing their job right."

Ash stared, like he was trying to process that. Like the idea of a doctor caring about whether he was comfortable was completely new to him.

Gary's stomach twisted at the thought.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he noticed Ash squeezing something—or rather, someone.

"Pikapiiiii..."

Gary blinked, then frowned. "Ash."

Ash's arms were wrapped so tightly around Pikachu that the poor Pokémon's face was smushed against his chest, little paws flailing.

"Ash, buddy, I think you're suffocating Pikachu."

"Huh?" Ash looked down. "Oh!" He immediately loosened his hold, allowing Pikachu to gasp dramatically for air. "Sorry, buddy..."

Pikachu didn't seem mad, just concerned. He squeaked up at Ash, ears twitching.

Gary, meanwhile, sighed. "Okay, we're not doing this."

Ash blinked. "Doing what?"

"You squeezing Pikachu to death because you're scared of me."

Ash's mouth opened, then closed. His hands clenched into his hoodie.

Gary softened. "Ashy Boy," he murmured, reaching for Ash's hand. "I am not them."

Ash hesitated.

Gary wiggled his fingers invitingly. "C'mon, kiddo. Pikachu needs to breathe. Take my hand instead."

Ash swallowed, then hesitantly placed his hand in Gary's.

Gary gave it a reassuring squeeze.

And that's when Ash lunged.

Before Gary could react, Ash threw his arms around him, clinging like a lifeline.

Gary grunted, stumbling slightly. "Whoa—okay!"

Ash was a hugger. A tight hugger. The kind that wrapped himself around you with everything he had and didn't let go.

Gary barely managed to keep the syringe steady. "Ash, buddy, you're kinda crushing me here—"

Ash only squeezed tighter.

Gary sighed, exasperated but fond. "Alright, alright. You're fine, I gotcha." He shifted slightly, adjusting his grip so he could reach Ash's arm while still holding him. "Okay, listen up, kiddo. We're gonna do this fast and easy. I'm not letting go of you, alright?"

Ash nodded against his shoulder.

"Good. Now, drape your arm over my shoulder. Just like that. Good. Now, keep hugging me, and I'll handle the rest.*"

Gary worked quickly, uncapping the syringe with one hand while keeping the other firmly around Ash's back.

"Alright, bud," Gary murmured. "Little pinch, okay? Just keep hugging me."

Ash tensed slightly, but he kept his arms locked around Gary's shoulders.

Gary wiped Ash's arm, positioned the needle, and—

"Done."

Ash blinked. "Huh?"

Gary pulled the syringe away, pressing a cotton swab to the spot. "That's it."

Ash pulled back slightly, blinking at him. "That was it?"

Gary smirked. "What, expecting me to punch it in?"

Ash huffed, shoving him weakly. "Shut up."

Gary chuckled, ruffling his hair. "Alright, buddy. Let's get you patched up."

As he pressed a bandage onto Ash's arm, the receptionist finally let loose.

"I cannot believe some doctor just— jammed a needle into you like it was nothing! I swear, what kind of hospital was that?!*"

Gary scowled. "A terrible one. And if I ever find out who it was, I'm filing a complaint."

The receptionist crossed her arms. "File a complaint? I want to throw hands!"

Ash just sat there, watching the two vent out their collective fury under the desk.

He leaned slightly against Gary. "...You guys are really mad about this."

"Obviously!"

"Of course we are!"

Ash blinked. Then, after a long pause, he mumbled, "...Thanks, guys."

Gary sighed, giving Ash's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Anytime, Ashy Boy. Anytime."