Dear Phil [Phan]

The Morgue

Dan walked towards the doors of the hospital, but he noticed Chris and PJ standing outside, waiting for him.

"What're you doing?" He said, emotionless.

"He's not in his room," Chris told him. PJ was crying, silently.

Dan's eyes widened slightly. "Then where is he?" He asked, alarmed.

"They rolled him off on gurney after cleaning him up. Covered him with a sheet and brought him to the morgue."

"What?" Dan nearly shouted. "Who let them do that?"

"W-well, after you left. The d-doctor came back in and she wanted to know if they could get the r-room because there were other people who needed the room," PJ stuttered shakily.

"Wait!" Dan heard them yell after him.

Dan ran inside, all the way to Phil's room. He peeked through the window. A girl lay there; maybe 23. A man stood on one side, a little boy tugging at his wrist. Another girl was kneeling next to her other side, holding her hand while the girl coughed and her eyes drooped tiredly.

Dan stuffed his hands in his pockets, grimacing at what his fingers were met with. He had worn a large sweatshirt, to cover the very noticeable bulge in his pocket.

He sped-walked through the halls. No one really took any notice to him; they were all to busy with problems of their own.

The only time someone bothered to make contact with him, was when he passed the children section.

The man had looked up from his desk, smiling kindly at Dan.

"Hello sir," he said.

"Hi," Dan replied, glancing back and forth to find the right door.

A young boy opened the door, gripping tightly onto a stuffed bear. He looked at Dan with wide eyes and coughed.

"Oh dear," another man from inside the room hurried to pull him back in. "Sorry about that."

Dan kept walking.

He snuck through doors that read 'employees only'. Yeah, he knew if he was caught he'd get in trouble. He knew that he really shouldn't be going in there. But soon enough it wasn't going to matter.

He nearly smiled at the thought. He almost laughed out loud.

Dan arrived in the morgue. The last thing he wanted was to be disrespectful towards the dead. Luckily, Phil was under the first sheet he pulled back.

There were gurneys folded by one wall and Dan brought one over to set up next to Phil. The sheet over his body was quite large.

Before the accident, it would've barely fit one of them. But now, after all this, their appetites had changed dramatically. They were both stick thin; you could even see their ribs.

If you'd asked Dan some months ago, he would've said he was fat. That he needed to lose some weight.

But now, all he wanted was to go back and have his regular old self again, (with Phil there beside him, of course). Everything had been perfect. It just took it all to be destroyed before he realised that.

Dan sighed shakily. He sat on the gurney, propping his legs out in front of him. As he reached for the sheet to pull across both their laps, the door swung open.

PJ and Chris.

They were out of breath, panting, while hurriedly shutting the door behind them.

"There you are," Chris said. "What do you think you're doing?"

Dan stared, his eyes glassy, like a doll's. He didn't answer.

"We found your letter," PJ squeaked. "Please Dan..."

His sweaty fingers brushed over the cold metal in his pocket. "I have to."

"But you don't. You can move on. You can live a happy life," Chris insisted.

"Not without Phil."

"That's crazy talk. How did you let yourself become so dependent on someone else?"

"You don't understand." His voice was robotic.

"What don't I understand?" Chris asked. "Explain to me."

"He was a part of me. I lost myself with him. I can't do this on my own."

"But you have us!"

"I'm sorry."

A few tears slid down PJ's face.

"Come here," Dan said quietly. He opened his arms wide and they embraced him in a tight hug. Tears stained each other's shirts.

Chris and PJ smiled at him and went to leave.

"Aren't you coming?" Chris questioned when he noticed Dan hadn't followed.

Dan shook his head. "I can't," he whispered.

Dan gripped the handle, as tightly as he could and pulled it from his pocket.

Their eyes widened as Dan brought the barrel to the side of his head.

"No! No, no, no, no, no," PJ begged.

"Dan," Chris held his arm out, "don't do this. You have so much to live for."

Dan laughed, bitterly. "Am I really alive if I'm already dead inside?"

"We can help you."

"The only person who could ever help me is gone," Dan cried. The emotion became clear in his voice and his eyes welled up.

"Dan," PJ pleaded.

He shook his head; finger on the trigger. His hand gripped Phil's cold one, intertwining their limp fingers.

"This was the most fun I've ever had."

It's not over yet. Stay tuned.

Keep it real ~Logan