Ant and Dec One Shots

The Struggle Behind The Scene

The night was electric with the hum of excitement as the crowd cheered, and the stage lights cut through the dim auditorium like beams of sunlight. Dec stood next to Ant, their usual banter filling the air as they introduced the next act on Britain's Got Talent. But tonight, something felt wrong-there was an almost imperceptible shift. Dec's smile, typically bright and confident, seemed strained, his energy lower than usual. He wiped his forehead discreetly, and Ant, sensing the change, shot him a concerned glance. But they continued, pushing through as the show went on.

Then, it happened in a flash. As they moved to centre stage, Dec's legs buckled beneath him. For a split second, it looked like he was about to regain his balance, but then, without warning, he collapsed. The audience's gasp filled the arena, and for a moment, everything stood still-time hanging heavy in the air.

Ant's heart dropped as he rushed to Dec's side, panic rising in his chest. His voice cracked, barely audible as he called for help. The world around him seemed to spin, the crowd's gasps becoming a distant, muffled sound as he focused on his friend. From the wings, Stephen dashed forward, his face a mask of worry and confusion. Within seconds, paramedics were on the scene, kneeling beside Dec, checking his pulse, their hands swift but gentle.

"Dec, hey, can you hear me?" Ant's voice trembled, the panic he'd fought so hard to keep at bay spilling out in shaky breaths.

Dec's eyes fluttered open, his pale face a stark contrast to his usual vibrancy. He blinked, trying to focus. "I'm fine... just a little dizzy... Sorry," he murmured, attempting to push himself up, but his body betrayed him, and he slumped back.

Ant wasn't convinced, his brow furrowing with concern. "No, Dec, something's not right. You're scaring me."

Before Ant could say more, Dec gave a weak smile, forcing it through clenched teeth. "Seriously, I'm alright. Just a bit worn out. It's nothing." But even in his attempt at reassurance, his voice faltered, and there was a noticeable tremor in his hands.

Stephen stood nearby, his eyes wide with concern, a deep frown etched on his face. "Dec, you don't look alright," he said softly, his voice thick with worry.

Dec gave him a dismissive wave, trying to stand, but his body swayed dangerously. "Really, it's just the flu... happens every year." But the paramedics weren't convinced. They gave Dec a thorough once-over, nodding with some reluctance.

"He's stable for now, but we strongly advise some rest," one of the paramedics said, glancing at the others, before offering a small nod. "He seems okay to go back on stage for now."

As the audience murmured and the show continued, Dec was back on his feet, nibbling on crackers and sipping orange juice backstage, but the colour hadn't fully returned to his face. He tried to put on a brave face, catching Ant and Stephen's worried glances. "You two can stop looking at me like that," Dec said, his voice laced with a forced cheerfulness, "I'm fine, really. It's just a flu bug."

But Ant and Stephen exchanged a look-a silent understanding passing between them. It was Dec, after all. The one who carried them through tough times, the one who always seemed indestructible. Yet now, he looked small, fragile, vulnerable.

Back on stage, Dec plastered on his usual charm, cracking jokes with the judges. The judges, who had been nervously glancing toward him after the incident, now gave their reactions with some hesitation, unsure of whether to bring attention to the situation or move past it. But Dec, ever the professional, powered through, determined to keep the show going.

"Well, I think we can all agree," Dec said with a strained chuckle, his smile masking the discomfort, "I've certainly made a dramatic entrance."

The audience laughed, but there was a noticeable unease in the air. The judges tried to keep things light, but each of them seemed to be keeping an eye on Dec, their expressions a mixture of concern and professionalism.