Phan Oneshots

In My Time of Dying

Spooky Week #3!

No one requested this, but come on? What's Halloween without a ghost story?

Summary: Phil wakes up in the middle of the road and can't remember a thing, except his name and that he's dead. He tries piecing together the fragments of memories, and most of it is unpleasant. Everything he's lost and will never get to experience again...and how he ended up dead in the first place.

***

The first thing he really notices is that he isn't cold. Which wouldn't be exactly strange, except that he was outside and it was snowing.

He was laying on his back, staring up at the night sky warily, his mind working, trying to think, trying to remember what was happening. He's outside, surrounded by trees on both sides of him, and he looks over and sees he's right in the middle of some desolate road.

My name is Phil.

That's the only solid thing, the only idea that he knows for sure is the truth.

He breathes out shakily, curling his hands into fists at his sides and trying to move, but his body doesn't seem to get the message, and he remains laying on the ground. Why is he there, what the hell is going on? Why can't he move?

Further off, he hears the telltale sounds of a siren, a high pitched wailing that slices through the quiet.

He pulls his arms up, staring at his hands in the darkness as if trying to reassure himself that he actually does have a body at the moment. He can't seem to remember himself, can't dredge up a single detail about himself and who he is and why he is just laying here.

The sirens get closer and suddenly, an ambulance screeches to a stop just a few feet away from him. And he looks over and sees a car, practically wrapped around a tree, and the paramedics are forcing the doors open.

My name is Phil, and I'm dead.

Because that's his body they pull out of the car, lifeless and unresponsive, and unless he has some superpowers he doesn't know about, he can't be in two places at once.

But why is he in that car, why is he dead- but apparently not so dead, because otherwise he wouldn't be able to see any of this, and wouldn't be able to think and ask questions, and holy fuck, he has so many questions.

He rolls over onto his side and heaves himself up onto his knees, barely noticing that he can't feel the hardness of the road either. Once he's on his feet, he shuffles towards the wreckage, watching the ambulance doors shut after they lift the gurney inside of it. There's about twenty different people swarming the area, police and paramedics and a few reporters, and even some random passerby who want to see what all the hype is about.

"Phil!"

He turns at the sound of his name, thinking someone can actually see him, but no one is looking in his direction.

"Wait, no!" Comes the voice again, and this time, Phil sees the source of the shouts, a young man with brown hair and a devastatingly broken expression, trying to pull out of the grip of a tall man, staring wildly after the ambulance. "No, please, I have to go with them, that's my boyfriend!"

"I'm sorry, sir," the tall man says in a thick accent. "He didn't make it."

"Fuck that," the man says thickly, wiping his blotchy face as tears start to fall down his cheeks. "He wouldn't leave like that, he can't be gone."

'Boyfriend'. The word echoes in Phil's mind. He has a boyfriend, or well...had one. But he can't remember, it's all gone and he can't think of a single moment he's spent with this man.