Hypnotised (Magnets Book 2)

Chapter 37

Dan's POV

The hospital was not busy. Apparently late October mornings on Mondays were not prime time to get injured. It was almost eerily quiet—for a hospital the size of this one. Which was not that big.

The CT machine hummed quietly through the glass where I sat, Phil lying, still as a statue—as if he were dead. Or, sleeping. The doctor had said it would only take about 45 minutes—two thirds of which was already over. With the spare time to kill, I made an overdue phone call.

Chris picked up on the third ring. "Hey, stranger!" He almost yelled. I winced, lifting the phone away from my ear slightly.

"Hey, Chris." I answered quietly. "How's things?"

"Eh, not bad." He sighed flippantly. "What about you?"

"I'm good," I answered.

"Great. How's...erm, how's Phil doing?"

"Um," I tried to begin. "It's kinda gotten worse...he started to forget things—no, the doctors said he was losing his ability to retain memory...and, well he's getting a CT scan right now..."

I could practically hear the concerned frown on Chris' face. "Why? Did something happen?"

"Um...well, he started coughing, and he got this pain in his chest..." Subconsciously, I was touching my own chest. "And...we told the doctor, and he sent us straight here."

Chris sighed heavily. "That's...fuck, that...that must be tough."

"You have no idea."

Something rustled, and I heard a voice say, very faintly, "What's up, hun?" and Chris' retaliation of "shush!"

I frowned, but a smile twitched at the corner of my lips. "Chris?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Is...is PJ there?"

"Uh, yeah...do you want to speak to him?" His voice had taken on a nervous tone.

"Are you two in bed?" I ploughed on.

"...Maybe?"

"Like...together?"

"Perhaps..." He said slyly.

I grinned widely. "Wow. That's...that's really great, you guys. Congrats."

"I didn't say that we were, like, dating or anything!" He implored.

"You implied it," I argued, still grinning like a maniac.

"Yeah, well...we're not—we're experimenting," He explained.

"Seems like your little experiment has been going very well, then." The knots in my stomach seemed to have loosened up a little, and I leaned back. "How long?"

"Um, about, I don't know...couple of weeks after we got back from Manchester? I'm pretty sure..."

"Yeah," I heard PJ mutter.

"Well then, best luck for the future. Look—I gotta go now. Talk to you guys later, okay?" I uttered.

"'Kay," Chris replied, before hanging up.

The CT had stopped. Phil put his clothes back on in the bathroom, and then we were back in the doctor's office. She—Dr. Ormond—seemed a little nervous. Understandable, since she looked fresh out of Uni. She couldn't have been more than 25 years old.

"So, here—," She said, pointing a small, white blob on her computer screen, floating amidst a group of other white blobs, "Is the tumour." She pointed to more white blobs, slightly higher than the other. "This tells us exactly what stage—and type—of cancer you have. Which is a non-small cell stage 3B adenocarcinoma, quickly going on stage 4."