"Damn, these idiots don't know how to use tools."

Gally grumbles, rummaging through your medicine drawer on his own, blood oozing from the small scratch above his eyebrow. You look at the sight with a raised eyebrow. Gally, as always, thinks that he can handle it on his own, that he doesn't need help. Your help.

You sigh and approach the reluctant guy, who seems very dizzy.