Doctor Daze- part three

Gary's smirk disappeared in an instant. His stomach twisted as he watched Ash heave into the trash can, his small body trembling with the effort. But it wasn't just bile or water coming up.

It was blood.

"Whoa—whoa, easy, buddy," Gary was by his side in seconds, kneeling next to the bed and rubbing soothing circles on Ash's back. "Ash, just breathe, okay? I got you."

Ash coughed weakly, his entire frame shuddering as he spat more red-streaked liquid into the bin. His face was too pale, his breaths ragged and unsteady. Gary felt his pulse spike—this was bad.

"Buddy, talk to me," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "How long has this been going on?"

Ash groaned, wiping his mouth with the back of his shaky hand. "Dunno... since last night...?" His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

Gary swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus. "And you didn't think to tell me?!" He wasn't mad—he was scared.

Ash winced. "Didn't... wanna bug you... 'm fine..."

"Fine?!" Gary nearly scoffed before reigning himself in. Ash didn't need him panicking. He needed help. Now.

Gary took a deep breath, shifting his grip to gently guide Ash down onto the bed. His friend barely resisted, his body limp against the pillow. His forehead was damp with sweat, his breathing shallow.

"Okay, buddy, listen to me," Gary said, pressing the back of his hand against Ash's burning forehead. "You're not fine. And I don't care if you didn't wanna bug me, I need you to tell me these things. Got it?"

Ash gave the weakest of nods, his eyelids fluttering.

Gary clenched his jaw. He had to move fast. If Ash was vomiting blood, this was more than just some fever or stomach bug.

His mind raced through possibilities, eliminating the minor ones. This wasn't something that would go away on its own.

"Stay with me, Ash," Gary murmured, already moving to grab his bag. He looped his stethoscope around his neck, checking Ash's pulse with steady fingers. Too fast. His breathing? Shallow, weak.

Gary's hands twitched, but he forced them to stay steady.

He needed to figure this out. Now.

He pressed the stethoscope against Ash's chest, focusing on the rapid, uneven rhythm of his heartbeat. It was too fast, like his body was desperately trying to keep up with something it couldn't fight.

"Ashy, I need you to stay awake for me, okay?" Gary murmured, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed. He slid an arm around Ash's back, easing him up slightly so he wouldn't choke if he vomited again.

Ash groaned, his head lolling against Gary's shoulder. "M'tired..."

"I know, kiddo, but you gotta stay with me." Gary reached for a tissue and gently wiped away the blood on Ash's lips. The sight of it made his stomach twist again, but he kept his hands steady.

Ash whimpered weakly, clutching Gary's sleeve. "Hurts, Gary..."

Gary's chest ached at the sound. He squeezed Ash's hand. "I know, buddy. I know. But I'm gonna fix this, alright?"

He ran through possibilities in his head. Internal bleeding? No, Ash hadn't had any major injuries. Ulcer? Maybe, but that was rare in kids this young. Some kind of infection? That could explain the fever.

Gary gently lifted Ash's shirt, pressing carefully along his stomach. Ash whimpered when Gary's fingers brushed over a spot near his upper abdomen.

Bingo.

"Okay, kiddo, I think I know what's wrong," Gary said, rubbing Ash's back soothingly. "But I need to do a few more checks, alright?"

Ash made a soft noise of protest, his fingers weakly gripping Gary's sleeve. "D-don't wanna..."

"I know, buddy, but we gotta figure this out." Gary reached for his thermometer, tucking it under Ash's tongue. "You can yell at me later."

Ash barely reacted. That was what scared Gary the most.

The thermometer beeped. 103.9°F.

"Okay, that's it," Gary muttered, setting the thermometer down. "We need to get you somewhere I can treat you properly."

Ash whined weakly. "Noooo... don' wanna go..."

Gary gave him a soft smile, ruffling his sweaty hair. "Not a hospital, don't worry. I've got a better idea."

Now, he just needed to get Professor Rowan out of the way so he could use the lab's equipment.

Because if Gary was right, Ash needed urgent treatment—and Gary was the only one who could give it to him.

His mind raced as he shifted Ash to lean against him, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Hang in there, Ashy," he murmured. "I've got you, buddy."

Ash let out a weak groan, pressing his burning forehead against Gary's chest. His breathing was shallow, his small fingers still gripping weakly at Gary's sleeve.

Gary took a deep breath. The symptoms lined up—high fever, stomach pain, vomiting blood. He had a hunch, but he needed to be sure before he treated anything.

First, he had to get Professor Rowan out of the lab.

He gently laid Ash down, adjusting the pillow under his head before tucking the blanket around him. "I'll be right back, okay? Don't move."

Ash barely reacted, only letting out a soft whimper.

Gary clenched his jaw and hurried out of the room.

He found Professor Rowan in the main hall, talking with one of the senior campers.

"Professor!" Gary called, putting on his best 'I-need-your-help' voice. "I think there's an issue with the storage room. Some of the supplies might've gotten contaminated."

Rowan frowned, immediately interested. "Contaminated? Are you sure?"

"Not completely, but I'd rather not take any risks." Gary shrugged, shifting on his feet. "You might wanna check it out yourself before anything gets used."

Rowan stroked his beard. "Yes, that does sound serious. I'll take a look immediately."

As soon as Rowan walked off, Gary wasted no time hurrying back to Ash.

The moment he stepped inside, his chest tightened.

Ash had curled in on himself, his face twisted in pain, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Alright, Ashy, I'm here," Gary said, quickly rolling up his sleeves. "Let's fix you up, buddy."

He grabbed his gloves, snapped them on, and took out his tools.

The first thing was an IV—Ash was severely dehydrated from all the vomiting.

Gary sat on the bed beside Ash, rubbing his arm. "This is gonna sting a little, kiddo, but I promise it'll help."

Ash let out a weak whimper, but he didn't fight when Gary carefully inserted the needle.

"There we go, buddy. You're doing great," Gary murmured, adjusting the drip.

Next, he needed to confirm his diagnosis.

He carefully pressed down on Ash's upper abdomen again.

Ash let out a sharp gasp, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "G-Gary...!"

"I know, kiddo. I know," Gary soothed, brushing Ash's sweat-damp hair back. "But we're almost there."

The response confirmed it—Ash had a bleeding ulcer.

Most likely stress-induced, knowing how much the kid pushed himself.

Gary let out a breath, his mind working through the next steps.

He could treat it. He would treat it.

He just had to act fast.