Erased (AmazingPhil & danisnotonfire)

Part 1

I woke up in a bright white room, where the lighting was stark and bare. It smelt of disinfectant and bleach, and the bed had sheets instead of the warm duvet I was used to.

Hospital, I realised, and then everything came flooding back. I closed my eyes again, willing myself to slip back down into unconsciousness, where I didn't have to remember, but no such luck. So I lay there, staring at the blank expanse of ceiling above my head.

The door to the room opened, and a nurse in a pale blue uniform came in. She was wearing a nametag, but without my glasses I couldn't read what it said. 

"Oh, you're awake! That's good. Philip, right?" she said chirpily.

"Just Phil," I corrected quietly.

"Alright, Phil. How are you feeling?"

I stopped to think for a second. "Tired, and my head hurts."

"That's understandable. You've got a slight concussion, but nothing too severe. Cuts on your arms from the glass, and a head injury, but no lasting damage. You've been lucky, Phil."

Lucky? If I had to describe myself right at that moment, I wouldn't have used the word 'lucky'.

"What about Dan?" I asked her, as she came over to the side of the bed and read something on the wall.  

"Dan?"

"Daniel Howell. He... He was in the car with me, he was driving... Is he okay?"

"I can't say I know, sweetheart. He'll be on a different ward most likely," she told me. "I'll try and find out for you, but first I need to sort you out. Any dizziness or blurred vision at all?"

"I, um, can't really tell," I confessed. "I took my glasses off in the car, and..."

"Left them in the pocket of your shirt." She smiled. "Don't worry. They're right here." She picked them up off the bedside table and handed them to me, and I pushed myself up to a sitting position so I could put them on. "Better?"

"I think so."

I blinked a couple of times, adjusting to my newly-visible surroundings. I could read the tag on her uniform now. Lindsay. "Thanks."

"Do you feel dizzy at all, Phil? Any blurred vision?"

"I can see fine. And I'm not dizzy, I don't think."

"That's good. I just need to check you over then quickly, then I'll go see if I can get some information on Dan for you, okay?"

I nodded, and sat still as she cleaned the quickly-healing cuts that the glass of the windscreen had left on my arms as I'd flung them up to try and protect myself. My concussion was from flying debris, Lindsay told me, probably from the car that had hit us, but I wasn't showing any signs of it being severe, so I'd probably be allowed to leave later that day. I also had slight whiplash from the impact of the crash, but that would be okay too.

Lindsay put an IV needle in the back of my hand to pass painkillers straight into my bloodstream, because I wasn't really supposed to eat or drink until they were sure I wasn't going to need any kind of tests or scans. I just looked away, but I found myself hoping that, somewhere else in the hospital, the same thing wasn't happening to Dan.

I winced as I remembered the last time he'd been near a needle, three years ago, when he got bitten by a dog and needed a tetanus shot. He'd freaked out, and I'd had to sit with him for half an hour before he'd have the injection, and even then he wouldn't let go of my hand. What if something similar was happening now, when I didn't have a clue where he was and couldn't be there for him?

Lindsay mistook my anxious expression for one of pain. "Sorry Phil, I know it's not the greatest of experiences."

"No, it's not that..." I shook my head slightly. "It's just..."

"Still worried about your friend?"

I nodded, biting my lip. "He hates hospitals. I need to be with him."

"That's what you said earlier."

I froze. "What?" 

She sighed, and when she spoke again her voice was quieter. "You woke up around two, three in the morning. You were fairly out of it, but you were calling for someone, and you said "I need to be with him." I had to give you a sedative, because you wouldn't calm down."

I could feel myself turning red. "Sorry."

"No need to apologise, love. It's perfectly alright." She smiled, writing something down on a clipboard. "All done. I'll go and see what I can find out about Dan for you. What was his last name again?"

"Howell. Daniel Howell."

"Okay. Need anything?"

I shook my head, then instantly regretted it as the pain in my head intensified. "I'm fine."

"Alright. I'll be back when I know what's going on. Try and relax, Phil."

She left the room, and I let my fake smile fade away, wrapping my bandaged arms around myself, closing my eyes and trying to pretend it was Dan hugging me, that we were back in our flat, sitting on the sofa watching TV together. But it wasn't the same without Dan's voice, his quiet breathing, his heart beating almost perfectly in time with mine.

I blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over. It was stupid to be crying, I told myself. Stupid and immature and crazy. Dan would be okay.

He had to be.