The clinic was quiet that morning. The receptionist was flipping through a magazine, the faint hum of the AC filled the room, and Gary was finishing up his paperwork when his office door creaked open.

"Ashy Boy?" Gary called without looking up.

A very weak-sounding groan was his only answer.

Gary finally looked up—only to see Ash standing in the doorway, looking like death itself.

His hair was messier than usual, his skin was pale, and he was wrapped in a blanket like a burrito. His eyes were droopy, red-rimmed, and overall miserable.

Gary blinked. "...Oh, no."

Ash sniffled. "M'dying."

Gary sighed, already standing up. "C'mon, buddy, let's get you checked out."

Ash shuffled forward sluggishly, the blanket dragging behind him. Pikachu, looking equally concerned, was perched on his shoulder, occasionally nudging Ash's cheek with his nose.

Gary guided Ash to the examination table. "Up you go, kiddo."

Ash groaned but obeyed, plopping down like a sack of potatoes.

Gary grabbed his stethoscope and pressed the cold disk against Ash's chest. "Deep breath in for me, buddy."

Ash sniffled, then inhaled weakly.

"Hmm... your lungs sound a little congested, but nothing too bad."

Gary reached for a thermometer and stuck it under Ash's tongue. "Hold this there, okay?"

Ash let out a tired grunt.

As the thermometer did its job, Gary checked Ash's eyes, ears, and throat.

"Well, your throat's red. No surprise there."

The thermometer beeped.

Gary pulled it out and read it. "101.2°F. Well, no wonder you feel like garbage."

Ash whimpered. "Told you I was dying."

Gary chuckled. "Sorry, bud. Just the flu."

Ash groaned dramatically. "Ughhh."

Gary smirked as he jotted down some notes. "What have you been eating lately, Ash?"

Ash blinked. "Uh... normal stuff?"

Gary narrowed his eyes. "Normal isn't exactly healthy, kid."

Ash pouted. "Hey, I eat, like, a ton!"

Gary hummed. "Yeah? Let's see."

He pulled out a test strip and pricked Ash's finger before Ash could even protest.

"OW—GARY!"

Gary ignored him, analyzing the test results.

And what he saw made his stomach drop.

Gary's teasing smirk vanished.

"...Ash."

Ash froze, Pikachu's ears perking up. "...What?"

Gary exhaled sharply. "Your cholesterol is dangerously low."

Ash tilted his head. "That's... bad?"

Gary gave him an incredulous look. "YES, Ash! You need cholesterol! It's what keeps your body functioning properly!"

Ash blinked in confusion. "But isn't high cholesterol the bad thing?"

Gary groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yes, but too low is just as bad!"

Ash blinked again. "...Oh."

"Oh?! That's all you have to say?!"

Ash just sniffled, rubbing his nose. "I mean... what do I do about it?"

Gary sighed. "You eat better, that's what. When's the last time you had something with healthy fats? Fish? Eggs? Nuts?"

Ash frowned. "Uh... I had a rice ball yesterday."

Gary just stared at him.

Ash shrank under his gaze. "...What?"

"Ash. You cannot live off rice balls and instant ramen!"

Ash grumbled. "They taste good."

Gary groaned. "Oh my god."

The receptionist, who had been eavesdropping, cackled from her desk.

Gary turned back to Ash. "Starting today, I'm putting you on a proper diet. And you're not leaving this clinic until I make sure you understand what that means."

Ash paled. "Wha—wait, hold on—"

Gary crossed his arms. "Nope. No arguments. You need proper nutrients, Ash. And I swear, if I find out you've been skipping meals or eating junk, I will hunt you down."

Ash pouted. "But Garyyyyyy—"

"No 'buts,' Ashy Boy!" Gary shot back. "You're gonna eat real food, and you're gonna like it!"

Pikachu chirped approvingly, nodding along.

Ash just sighed, slumping against the table. "This is the worst day ever."

Gary rolled his eyes. "You'll thank me later, buddy."

Ash just groaned.

Gary could hear the coughing from outside his office.

He sighed, already knowing exactly who it was.

Stepping out of his clinic room, he found Ash slumped on one of the waiting room chairs, wrapped in a hoodie two sizes too big, with Pikachu curled up in his lap. His face was flushed, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, and his messy hair was even more chaotic than usual.

Gary raised an eyebrow. "Well, well, if it isn't Ashy Boy, looking like a disaster."

Ash groaned, burying his face in his hoodie. "Go 'way."

Gary smirked, but he crouched down in front of Ash, reaching out to press the back of his hand against his forehead. The warmth that met his skin made his smirk instantly vanish.

"Yeah, no. You're burning up."

Ash grumbled, shoving his face further into his hoodie. "M'fine."

"You're not fine," Gary shot back, standing up and crossing his arms. "And lucky for you, you already came to a clinic. So get up, Ashy Boy. You're getting a check-up."

Ash groaned dramatically. "Noooooo."

Gary rolled his eyes. "Would you rather I carry you?"

Ash glared at him through fevered eyes.

Gary smirked. "That's what I thought. Now, up."

Reluctantly, Ash forced himself up from the chair, staggering slightly as he swayed on his feet. Gary sighed and steadied him with a hand on his shoulder before guiding him into an exam room.

As soon as Ash sat down on the table, Gary was all business. He snapped on his gloves, looped his stethoscope around his neck, and grabbed a thermometer. "Alright, open up."

Ash scrunched his nose. "You're so bossy."

"And you're an idiot who waited this long to come in. Open."

Grumbling, Ash obeyed, letting Gary slip the thermometer under his tongue.

While waiting for the reading, Gary grabbed Ash's wrist, pressing two fingers to his pulse. His brows furrowed slightly. "Your heart rate's a little low."

Ash just blinked tiredly at him.

The thermometer beeped, and Gary took it out, checking the numbers. "101.4.*"

He sighed. "Not great, but not terrible. Any nausea?"

Ash shook his head.

"Dizziness?"

Ash shrugged. "A little."

Gary hummed thoughtfully, pulling out a small device. "Alright, let's check your cholesterol while we're at it."

Ash groaned. "Do we have to?"

Gary shot him a look. "Yes. I check this every few months, Ash, you know that."

Ash just huffed, but he held out his hand anyway.

Gary pricked Ash's finger, gathering a small sample, then popped it into the reader.

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, waiting for the results.

Ash just sniffled, rubbing his nose with his sleeve. Pikachu, who had curled up beside him on the exam table, chirped worriedly.

Gary sighed. "You really need to start taking better care of yourself, y'know that?"

Ash blinked sleepily. "I do take care of myself."

Gary gave him a flat look. "Ash. You literally passed out in a swamp last month and called it 'a nap.'"

Ash mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "It was a good nap..."

Gary groaned. "Unbelievable."

Then, the machine beeped.

Gary turned to check the screen—

And immediately frowned.

"...Huh."

Ash blinked at him. "Huh? What huh?"

Gary narrowed his eyes at the numbers. "...Your cholesterol is low."

Ash stared blankly. "...That's bad?"

Gary turned to him. "Yes, that's bad, Ash. Low cholesterol can mean malnutrition, which, considering your lifestyle—" He stopped mid-sentence, realization dawning on his face.

Then he scowled.

"Ash," Gary said slowly, "have you been skipping meals again?"

Ash stiffened.

Gary's eyes flashed. "Ash."

Ash groaned, pulling his hood over his face. "...Maybe."

Gary snapped his gloves off. "Are you kidding me?!"

The receptionist outside the door flinched at the sheer rage in his voice.

Ash shrank into his hoodie. "I forget sometimes, okay?!"

"That's not an excuse!" Gary barked. "You need energy to function, Ash! You're running around all day, battling, training, traveling—do you want to collapse in the middle of nowhere?!"

Ash mumbled something.

Gary crossed his arms. "What was that?"

"...I don't get hungry sometimes."

Gary's glare softened just a little.

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "Okay. That happens sometimes, I get it. But Ash, you still need to eat. Even if you don't feel hungry, your body needs fuel. That's probably why you're sick right now!"

Ash pouted, looking away. "...Guess that makes sense."

"Damn right it makes sense."

Gary grabbed a notepad and started scribbling. "I'm putting you on a meal plan. You're gonna eat properly, and you're gonna stick to it. No more 'forgetting.'"

Ash groaned. "You're worse than my mom."

Gary smirked. "Good. Maybe that means you'll actually listen."

Ash shot him a glare, but it was weak. He was too tired to fight.

Gary patted his shoulder. "Alright, you're officially banned from doing anything strenuous for the next week. Rest, eat, drink water—actual water, not just soda—and for once, let people take care of you."

Ash huffed. "I'm fine—"

Gary shoved him down onto the table.

Ash yelped. "HEY—"

"Lie down, idiot," Gary said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not letting you leave until I know you're stable."

Ash scowled, but Gary just threw a blanket over him.

"Rest," Gary ordered. "That's doctor's orders."

Ash groaned, flopping dramatically. "I hate you."

Gary smirked. "Love you too, buddy."

Gary Oak knew something was wrong the second Ash stepped into his clinic.

Ash never walked like that—slow, sluggish, and looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. His usual bright energy was dimmed, his face paler than normal, and Pikachu sat on his shoulder looking just as concerned.

Gary frowned, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorway. "Well, well, well. If it isn't my favorite and most annoying patient."

Ash groaned. "Not now, Gary."

That was definitely a red flag.

Gary's brows shot up. "Oh, it's bad if you're not even arguing."

Ash just shuffled past him, flopping down onto the exam table with a pathetic-sounding plop.

Gary sighed. "Alright, kid, let's see what's up."

He reached for his gloves, snapping them on with a pop! and grabbed his stethoscope. "Symptoms?"

Ash groaned into the pillow. "Tired. Dizzy. Feel like garbage."

Gary pressed the stethoscope to Ash's chest, listening carefully. "Breathing sounds normal. No fever. Let's check your blood pressure."

Ash just let him, too out of it to complain.

Gary pumped the cuff, watching the dial closely. "Hmm."

Ash peeked at him through half-lidded eyes. "Hmm, what?"

Gary hummed thoughtfully, undoing the cuff. "Blood pressure's fine. But let's run some tests, just to be sure."

Ash sighed. "Fine."

A few tests, a blood draw, and an hour later, Gary sat at his desk, frowning at the results on his computer.

"...Huh."

Ash, still curled up on the exam table with Pikachu, groaned. "Can you not 'huh' me when I feel like death?"

Gary turned to him, arms crossed. "Your cholesterol levels are way too low."

Ash blinked. "Uh... is that bad?"

Gary sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, Ash. That's bad."

Ash frowned. "I thought high cholesterol was bad?"

Gary shot him a look. "Both extremes are bad, genius. You need a certain level of cholesterol to stay healthy. It helps your body function, gives you energy, keeps your brain sharp—"

Ash cut him off with a groan. "Okay, okay, I get it. But why's it low?"

Gary narrowed his eyes. "That's my question. Have you been eating properly?"

Ash hesitated.

Gary's eyes widened. "Ash."

Ash groaned, covering his face. "I eat!"

Gary's voice flattened. "What do you eat?"

Ash muttered something under his breath.

Gary leaned in. "Didn't catch that."

"...Mostly rice and soup..."

Gary flipped. "ASH KETCHUM!"

Ash winced. "What?!"

"You can't just eat that! Where's your protein? Where's your healthy fats? Have you even seen a piece of meat in the last month?!"

Ash waved a hand weakly. "I had fish the other day..."

Gary groaned. "That's not enough! No wonder you're dizzy! Your body doesn't have the nutrients it needs to function!"

The receptionist poked her head in. "Everything okay in—"

"He's malnourished!" Gary shouted.

The receptionist gasped. "Ash!"

Ash whined, burying his face into the pillow again. "Can everyone stop yelling at me? I feel like trash."

Gary sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, alright, no yelling. But Ash," he said seriously, "this isn't okay."

Ash peeked up at him.

Gary softened, pulling up a stool and sitting beside the table. "Look. I know you're always running around, training, traveling, being the big-shot Champion. But you have to take care of yourself."

Ash was quiet.

Gary reached out, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "I mean it, Ashy-boy. If you don't fix this, your body is gonna crash. You're already feeling it, aren't you?"

Ash exhaled slowly, nodding.

Gary patted his shoulder. "Then let's fix it, alright?"

"...How?"

Gary smirked. "For starters? You're coming home with me."

Ash blinked. "Huh?"

Gary grinned. "I'm not letting you out of my sight until I'm sure you're eating right. Which means you're staying with me for a while."

Ash's face turned red. "I—what—I can take care of myself!"

Gary raised a brow. "Clearly."

Ash groaned, flopping back. "I hate you."

Gary chuckled, standing up and grabbing his coat. "No, you don't. Now, c'mon, Ashy-boy. We're getting you some real food."

Pikachu let out a relieved squeak.

Ash sighed, finally sitting up. "Fine, fine. But I swear, if you try to force-feed me anything gross—"

Gary smirked. "I make great food, thank you very much."

Ash narrowed his eyes. "...I don't trust that smirk."

Gary just laughed, leading Ash toward the exit. "Don't worry, buddy. By the time I'm done with you, you'll feel good as new."

Ash sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of..."

Gary just grinned. Not on my watch, Ash. Not on my watch.