Gary’s hands worked quickly, his mind focused only on stabilizing Ash. The moment he saw the blood on Ash’s lips, his heart clenched, but his training kicked in before panic could set in.

“Ash, stay with me,” he muttered, pulling a clean cloth from his bag to wipe the blood away. “You always get yourself into these messes…”

Ash barely reacted, his breaths coming in shallow and uneven gasps. His body trembled slightly, the effects of the poison already taking hold. Gary’s jaw tightened. He had been through this before. He knew what to do.

Brock and Dawn, watching from a distance, were stunned into silence. They had never seen Gary like this—so focused, so careful. It was a side of him they never expected, but it was clear: this wasn’t the first time Gary had treated Ash like this.

Gary pressed his fingers to Ash’s wrist, feeling his pulse—too fast, too weak. He took out a penlight, gently lifting one of Ash’s eyelids. His pupils were sluggish, not reacting as fast as they should.

“Tch. You really overdid it this time,” Gary muttered under his breath as he reached into his bag, pulling out a vial and a syringe. He swiftly filled it with the antidote and injected it into Ash’s arm. “You’re lucky I’m always prepared for your dumb heroics.”

Ash let out a small, weak groan, barely conscious. Pikachu nudged Ash’s arm worriedly, letting out a soft, distressed cry.

Gary sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Pikachu, don’t worry. He’ll be okay,” he reassured, though his own heart was pounding. “I just need to get the poison out of his system.”

Dawn swallowed hard, whispering, “I had no idea Gary knew so much about taking care of Ash…”

Brock nodded, his expression unreadable. “Neither did I. But… the way he’s handling this—it’s like he’s done it before. More than once.”

Gary ignored them, keeping his focus on Ash. He gently lifted him up a little, supporting his head. “Ash, can you hear me?”

A faint groan. A twitch of his fingers.

Gary exhaled, relief washing over him. “Good. That’s good, you idiot.” He grabbed a water bottle, uncapping it. “Drink a little.” He carefully helped Ash take a few sips, making sure he didn’t choke.

For a moment, Gary just sat there, watching over Ash as his breathing slowly steadied. His fingers clenched slightly, memories flashing in his mind—how many times had he done this before? How many times had Ash run headfirst into danger, only for Gary to be the one to patch him up afterward?

Too many.

But no matter how frustrating Ash could be, no matter how reckless, Gary always had his back. Always.

Because Ash was his best friend.

And no matter how many times Ash threw himself into danger, Gary would always be there to catch him.