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So maybe he should not have let Moon go inside that cave on her own.
So maybe he should have stayed around for a bit longer so he would have heard her screaming for help.
And maybe he should not have spent around half a minute reacting to the gore, the violence, the blood and the lack of breathing from her body. When he found her, the ceiling of the cave had given in and silver was shining through, sunlight giving sight to the atrocious spoors of a very heated battle.
A hand peeking from under the rocks. Her beanie tossed somewhere close to the entrance. A Pokéball rolling out of said hand, bumping with the pebbles. His own breath being lost in the agonizing call for her name because it could not be it just could not be.
But it was her under the rocks. Silvally had moved it all away and the sight had knocked him to his knees as he stared at the sight in loss, eyes wide and unresponsive. It had been like staring at the void with a knife through his chest because losing her to this would have been as emptying as an abyss and as painful as a dagger being twisted between his lungs.
And with bated breath he had been waiting for a miracle, for her to answer, but when the adrenaline kicked in and he began to realize that this was all too real to wait, he had carefully cradled her to his chest and called a Charizard to take them to the Pokémon Center in Poni (the only one that there is).
The rest had been a blur of calls, cries and several failed attempts of his to calm down, to contain his screams of frustration at his own self for thinking she would be okay. For thinking this was a mission for a single person to tackle.
Moon had been taken away relatively quick to Malie- quick enough for her to survive, but too slow for his liking. Gladion had not been allowed to go with her initially but he almost threatened them to take Silvally out and they all complied, even when they weren't sure 'what a Silvally really is'.
And Moon is now okay, on a bed, connected to so many tubes he has lost count of them. Her pale body is bruised all over, there is more dry blood than actual clean skin, and wherever there should be skin there is a bandage to cover it. Her silky hair is matted down and dull, lips pale and eyes closed. It looks like it's her funeral already.
When he had stepped into the room, it felt even worse than what he had expected. All air he took felt like a brewing storm and a tempest, all which could be translated into an unhinged sensation of fear, terror, and panic.
Muttering her name slowly, hoarsely, barely a breath, he sits by the closest stool to her bed. Hau is somewhere at the other side of her bed, surveilling the scene with uncanny and impassive solemnity. "Dude, you look like an Onyx fell on you."
It only takes Gladion one glance up to respond. "Likewise."
Hau snorts at that, a bit lower than usual. He is wearing his usual clothes, usual sneakers and unusual eye bags to compliment the look. If one didn't know him, he would have passed like any other worker of the hospital, because he had been watching over Moon ever since she had been admitted, whereas Gladion had just gotten here after a myriad of papers and canceled meetings.
Could he be doing things any worse?
"She will be fine," whispers Hau assuringly, probably taking notice of Gladion's fear-shaking hand and how he has buried his face in his hands. "I know it's hard to see her like this. She isn't a stranger to accidents like these, sadly."
"Now what in the world is that supposed to mean?" Gladion groans out, fisting his uneven choppy bangs before throwing Hau a frowned glare, shadows meeting in his wrinkled nose. "Besides, why are you so nonchalant about this ordeal? She hasn't woken up yet."
His hands are in his pockets now, shifting his eyes to Moon again. Her breathing is steady, but a bit more shallow than usual. "As I said, she's been in this situation before. She once fell off the side of Wela Volcano and I freaked out pretty much like you."
He's not sure if that terrifying confirmation that Moon, as he suspected, is a magnet to incidents as catastrophic as these makes him feel any better. At least she has survived those with nothing to comment about it, if his lack of knowledge about the matter is any proof of that. Or the lack of scars. And the lack of fear in that reckless head of hers.
Should he have noticed that she is a bit of a daredevil in those very telling gashes on her body when she sought refuge in his home? Why is he so shocked that she finally went over the limit of her body?
If she woke up, she would for sure be happy that the mission is complete, that the last UB has been captured and that she would have done anything to protect Alola, as the Champion of said region. Gladion isn't sure if the pressure they have bestowed on her along with the title is really legal or healthy, but he digresses.
Moon is still sleeping. Her hand is pale on the side he is facing, and he takes hold of it with his warmer digits, trying to feel her heartbeat like he had failed to do in that destroyed cave.
The beeping machines don't lie: she's alive. His paranoia can calm down now.
Hau watches his shaky movements with utter disbelief. Him and Moon had never seemed as close as to be this protective of the other, for Gladion is screaming words of protection and care in the way he grabs her hand and looks at her almost desperately.
It's always an almost of emotion in his eyes. A trace. Not quite a full-blown show of feeling.
"Dude," mutters Hau, grimacing in soft disbelief, "you must care about Moon a ton if you are holding her hand but you refuse to even share a Malasada with me. Lillie told me you were super careful with PDA and all that."
Gladion isn't exactly sure how to react to this, and in his state of mental numbness, he chooses to ignore the light tease and focus on the subtle accusation. "We are not in public and she's my friend, how can I not care about her?"
He had not meant to say the second part but in this case, he has no problem with stating their relationship out loud to possibly the worst person in this scenario, who would make a big deal about this undoubtedly the second things were fine again.
But he doesn't. Instead, he trails to a paced pause and lets Gladion continue holding her hand, his thumb tracing the dry gaps between her finger as a million thoughts race his brain. Uselessness for not protecting her, fear, dejection, fear, frustration, fear, fear-
"She will be okay." Hau's words are carefully said, and it's as if Gladion hasn't listened, because his frown doesn't shift. "Don't worry about her. She's a strong girl."
It's easier to say it than to believe it, Gladion thinks. And it's not that easy to really swallow that concise assurance seeing her look like the contrary to 'strong and okay'.
But he has faith in her. Terrified or not, he knows she will pull through.
So he lets the gentle silence of the afternoon cradle him to a false sense of security, caressing her hand and hoping he will get to see those mesmerizing charcoal eyes of hers again.