Drew had always known, on some intrinsic level, that pokémon training wasn't exactly the safest of professions. It involved trainers as young as ten setting out, usually on their own, for weeks at a time into unfamiliar territory, armed with only a map and as few camping supplies as a trainer could get away with. Every so often he caught wind of stories of severely injured or, worse, missing trainers as he passed through towns. He'd always figured they were the unlucky ones—the rookies who had gotten in way over their heads, the ones who just didn't know how to survive out there, the ones who ran into a nasty surprise that they couldn't handle. Or the ones who just had excruciatingly terrible luck, like that Ketchum kid, who seemed to attract trouble the way Contest Champion Wallace attracted fangirls—many, without fail, at any given time and location.

Things like that—accidents, trouble, whatever you wanted to call them—weren't supposed to happen to people like Solidad, a well-seasoned traveler who had a strong team of pokémon at her side, someone who never lost her cool and anticipated just about every possible situation and planned for them.

Yet she had almost become one of those cases—just another headline in the local news, except maybe she'd reach regional or even interregional or maybe even international news, because she was a Top Coordinator, a two-time Top Coordinator, and people like that tended to have their business plastered on interregional news.

He'd found her at the site of a cave-in, barely conscious but bleeding, unable to free herself from the rocks around her and unable to reach for her pokémon, who could easily lift her entrapments. It had taken Drew a few moments to become cognizant that there was a person trapped under the rubble, and an agonizingly long time for Butterfree to remove the jagged, heavy stones—thank Arceus he'd had Butterfree with him, especially since he had just contemplated on switching him out—and it'd taken him too many moments to find out his barely-used PokéDex and hit the panic button, his hands trembling as he tried to staunch the blood of flow without further injuring his friend, his voice trembled as he pleaded with the officials on the other end of the line to send an ambulance, hurry, hurry hurry she's bleeding and I can't make it stop she needs medical attention now.

She was lucky he had been passing by, the paramedics said as they shoved him aside to begin their work. He hopped into the back of the ambulance, silently watching as they inserted IV lines and took all sorts of measurements and did what little they could do as they blue-lighted all the way to Mistralton General Hospital, where he now sat with blood-stained hands and his thoughts racing a mile a minute.

He had almost lost her, today. The blood on his jacket—his attempt at an admittedly unsanitary, makeshift tourniquet—mocked him mercilessly. He had almost lost her, and he could still lose her if she didn't make it through surgery. The thought terrified him. Solidad was his pillar, his support, his mentor, his sister in all but blood, his best friend. Losing her was unthinkable. But what if he'd been too late? What if he'd been too slow? What if he—

"Drew?" His head snapped up at the voice, his train of thought disrupted as his gaze fell on May. Her eyes were wide, her hair windswept, her complexion paler than usual, and her fanny pack clutched in her hands.

"May," he said, his voice hoarse and weak even to his own ears, and her expression softened as she shuffled over to sit down next to him.

"I..." May hesitated. "I heard about what happened. On the news." Drew nodded numbly. "Are you okay?" He opened his mouth to tell her he was fine, but the words got stuck somewhere between his brain and his vocal cords, and he pressed his lips together firmly. "Here, let me take that," May said gently, tugging the bloody jacket from his grasp. Drew initially recoiled, gripping the soiled garment tightly before allowing her to remove it from his line of vision. "Solidad's going to be okay," May added gently, even though her usual tone of optimism was only barely present. "You know that, right?" Drew snorted derisively.

"You didn't see how much she was bleeding." The words came out harsher than he intended, but he let them hang in the air anyway. What if Solidad didn't make it through the surgery? What would he do then? He had no idea how this type of thing worked. What were the risks? What if Solidad never recovered?

"Well, no, I didn't," May conceded, her voice once more disturbing his morbid thoughts. "But I know you did the best you could, and I know the doctors are going to do the best they can to help her." Drew stiffened as she grabbed his hands, evidently not minding the red stains he hadn't bothered to wash off and stilling the tremors he had hardly been aware of. "I'm right here, Drew. I'm not going anywhere, okay?" He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, absently noting the sincerity of her expression. As if May was truly capable of being insincere. "You don't have to wait here alone." She smiled weakly, and it occurred to Drew that half her reassurances were for herself. She, too, cared about Solidad. She, too, viewed Solidad as a mentor, a friend, a rival. "Everything's going to be okay, so don't you dare beat yourself up over this."

Giving in to the promise of comfort May offered, Drew leaned over and rested his head onto her shoulder, letting his eyes fall shut as he discretely took in her scent—something fruity that stood out against the grating smell of antiseptics that pervaded the hospital waiting room. Because truly, if he had to pick one word to describe May, it would be refreshing—her innocence, her sincerity, her warmth.

This time, May was the one to flinch, but after her initial moment of surprise, she shifted an arm to pull him into a one-armed hug, gripping his hands tightly with her other hand. It was only then that Drew realized her hands were shaking, too.

"She's going to be okay," Drew mumbled, mustering up more optimism in that single sentence than he ever expressed in his life. May let out a shaky sigh and rested her head against his, and he knew she needed that reassurance in a way he didn't.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "See? Everything's going to be fine."

Originally written for tumblr user rosiemayskitty, based on an angsty dialogue prompt. This version is rewritten and expanded from the one on tumblr.

Prompt: "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Hope you enjoyed!

- Nox