He can't be dead...

Chapter 2

Phil awoke to a steady beeping noise. His alarm clock? Dan playing a video game? His eyes fluttered open to a dull white ceiling and un-decorated greyish blue walls. A hospital. The beeping noise was a heart monitor that was attached to Dan. The car crash. Everything flooded back to him.
Oh my god, Phil thought. He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through his spine and neck, causing him to wince and fall back to the bed. It was difficult to breath, and his right arm ached like hell. A nurse came into the room and noticed he was awake.
"How do you feel?" Her voice was soft and pleasant. "You were slammed into the seat pretty hard, and your friend there was found laying on top of your arm. It's gonna be fractured at least, maybe broken."
"Is Dan okay?" Phil's voice was crackly.
The nurse made a face. Obviously something was wrong.
Oh god oh god oh god, Phil thought. Please be okay.
"He was sitting on the side of the car that was hit, and he's suffering some pretty severe injuries. There's a 50% chance that he'll die, I'm sorry."
Phil's mouth went dry.
"Can you move my bed closer to his. Please."
The nurse hesitated, then nodded. She rolled his bed so it was touching Dan's, and left the room. Dan's eyes opened the second the door slammed shut, his eyelids heavy.
"Phil?" He croaked.
Phil nodded, tears in his eyes.
"Phil, I'm dying. There's nothing you can do. I'm bleeding internally."
Dan paused and took a deep breath.
"No, Dan. You'll be okay. It'll, it'll be okay." Tears ran down his pale cheeks.
"Phil, I love you. Tell our subscribers what happened, tell them everything about me. Tell them how much I loved you, how much they meant to me, everything. And remember Phil, this was the most fun I've ever had."
Dan's weak arms reached over and pulled Phil's face close to his. He kissed him softly on the forehead and breathed out for a final time. The heart monitor flatlined.
"No, Dan, no." Tears rolled down his face, and he repeated Dan's name over and over. He buried his face in Dan's sweatshirt and sobbed.
He's not dead, he thought, I'll go back to our apartment and he'll be sitting on our couch, yelling at the TV or something.
The nurse rushed in.
"Sir, are you-" she stopped when she saw Dan's limp body. "Oh. I'm so sorry."
"I want to go home." Phil said as strongly as he could, tears still streaming down his face.
"I can't-"
"I want to go home. Now." Anger dripped from every word.
"Of course. We'll need you to sign some papers, then we can release you."
She rushed out of the room and re-appeared minutes later, this time with a stack of papers in her arms.
"Oh. Your arm. Are you left handed?"
He shook his head, a lump forming in his throat simply by the mention of left handedness, such a simple thing meaning so much to him.
"I'll uh, try." He managed to get out, as he snatched the pile of forms from the nurse's hands.
He could barely write with his left hand on any other day, the use of it on a day with so much going on made it nearly impossible. The pen ink was smeared, and looked like a five year old had done it. Once he finished looking through the stack he handed it back to the nurse, who disappeared again. He lay in bed, thinking about his life before all of this, wondering if he could ever be the same person as before.