I Remember

Part 4: Phil's POV

We arrived at the hospital where I was put in a wheelchair as Dan was rushed away to the operating room. "NO LET ME COME LET COME! I LOVE HIM! DAAN NOO," I was reaching toward him but he couldn't see. He was facing straight up and struggled to say, "Phil don't worry. It will be okay. I'll see you soon. I love you. I know you won't let me be gone."

We were then separated. I didn't pay any attention to anything after that. They gave me some odd tasting purple liquid and everything blurred together. I fell asleep when I thought I would never be able to again.

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I woke up to bright light and two blurry faces peering over me and muffled voices. My eyesight adjusted once I blinked a few times. It was my mum, peering at me with relieved eyes. What is she doing here? When did she get here? The other was a man in a white lab coat. Probably the doctor. What happened?

Immediately after I manage to force my eye lids open she comes over and kisses my forehead. "Oh Philly I'm so glad you are alright!! I was so worried about you!!"

I smiled and hugged her back and winced. "Yes mum I'm fine," I lied. "I'm glad I am too."
I try to move my arm to lift the hair from my eyes but instead feel a sharp pain and wince. My arm was in a sling. I run my good hand up my moisturized cheek and froze at my forehead. I felt stitches. 

Bandages.

Then a feeling of panic and realization overwhelmed me and I almost forget to breath. "Is Dan okay? Can I see him?" I gasp.

Mum's smile faded. She looked at the doctor. "Of course," he said, in a deep, grim voice.

My stomach twisted and writhed with worry.  I can tell that what I'm about to see isn't good. But hopefully it's just some broken limbs. Just a ton of bandages. At least. That will heal fast enough, Right? 

 I am helped into a wheelchair, for I am too weak to stand. But I don't try to stand. There's no use. I am pushed down several long, well-lit corridors. I am then led into a room almost all white. It nearly binds my sensitive eyes that have been closed for I don't even know how long. There is a bed in the middle and seemingly hundreds of varieties of medical machines and tools. Lastly, I see a thin, sunken figure lying on the bed, covered up to the waist in a white sheet. It's soft brown hair was overwhelming in front of the bright backdrop of light.

Oh, god it's Dan. I gasped and got up out of my wheelchair with a new found strength and rushed over to his side. He looks awful. How much blood did they have to take from him to make his cheeks sink? Why are his breaths so shallow? Why is his hair plastered to his head in those curls that he hates so much? Will he wake up? Why isn't he waking up?

"Dan can you hear me? Dan are you okay?"

I recoil at the touch of something on my shoulder. I reluctantly took my eyes away from Dan's luscious hobbit hair and closed eyes toward the owner of the hand on my shoulder. The man in the white lab coat has a face with filled with.... condolence? Pity? "Mr. Lester..." He cleared his throat. "Dan... Dan is um.. he's in a coma. There-- there is no telling when he will wake up. I'm so sorry."

I just stared at him, gathering and comprehending this information. I couldn't imagine what face I was making. 

The awful thing called grief then punched me hard in the stomach and the wind was knocked out of me. 

Dan, my best friend, partner, lover... He might never wake up. The tears that have crept up to my waterline are now spilling over, the drips falling to the sheets. It was deafening. I felt like I could hear every sound at once and my head began to hurt. I try not to show that I'm having a full blown panic attack so that they don't take me away. I began to choke back sobs. My voice shook as I said, "Can he hear me?"