Fiction

I let you in

"Hey, all you had to do was stay,
Had me in the palm of your hand,
Then, why'd you have to go and lock me out when I let you in."
~Taylor Swift

PJ POV

"Phil is obviously under a lot of stress at the moment, and it appears that his brain has decided to shut down for a while to protect itself. We can't say for sure when he'll wake up again, but we do need to find out why he tried to commit suicide, so we can find the best way to help him out of this dark time." The nurse said. "Now, seeing as this might be private, we thought it best of you could explain it to the physiatrist, if you know, that is."

"I don't think Phil would want us to tell this to anyone." Chris said, his forehead creasing into a frown. "You're right, it's private, and he should be the one to tell people, when he's comfortable to. We don't have that right." I couldn't help but to agree with Chris, but if it helped Phil get better...

"I understand that, sir. But it's our job to help people and keep them alive, and for that, we need you to tell a physiatrist how we can help Phil, and the best method of treatment for him. I know he may not understand, believe me, I know, but you need to get him help." I put a hand on Chris' arm, telling him without words to let me speak.

"I think if anyone is going to tell anyone anything, it should be Dan. He understands the situation more than us, but I don't think Phil will really appreciate us talking to anyone about his private life."

"We just want to help." The nurse said, and she did look like she did. But who was to say that every other nurses and doctors were the same? Phil was relatively famous, and I'm sure that you could get a lot of money from selling their story to the press.

"We'll go and get Dan." Chris said, his expression showing just how unhappy he was with this. His hand slipped into mine, and he tugged me behind him down the corridor.

Dan POV

The waiting room was crowded and loud. It was currently my least favourite room in this godforsaken hospital, even overtaking Phil's sterile white box.

This room was my least favourite for a whole host of reasons. There was a screaming toddler sitting right next to me. His mother was more interested in her green smoothie than her crying child. The TV was on a news channel currently covering refugees from Syria that were apparently not our problem. Izzy wasn't with me. Chris and PJ weren't with me.

But the real reason I hated this room so much, the reason it was the place I would least like to be right now, and ever, was that I was only here because Phil didn't want me near him.

He would prefer to have Izzy next to him, a stranger that he'd never met before he opened his eyes after one of the worst experiences in his life, than me. Me, the person he went to when he was crying after watching Doctor Who. Me, the person he lived with and made tea for in the mornings. Me, the person who loved him more anything else on the planet, and would give up everything, even him, to keep him safe.

Me.

This was the first time he's ever not wanted me.

And it hurt.

God, it hurt.

It felt like someone was reaching inside my chest, and squeezing my heart, like someone was tearing out my soul and ripping it apart in front of me, pieces raining down of the floor, black and blue and white, every piece a colour that reminded me of Phil.

This was worse.

This was so much worse than when he was in that hospital bed, than when I was next to him, when I could touch him.

Now, all I had to ease the pain was the box of Maltesers that Izzy had bought me from the Tesco's down the road.

"Dan!" I heard.

"What do you want, Chris?" I asked, my voice cracked from crying.

"The nurses say that they need to know what happened to Phil so that they can help him get better." PJ said, his voice low and comforting. "We thought that it would be best if you told them, because you know the story better than we do."

"Get Izzy to do it." I said, popping a Malteser dejectedly into my mouth.

"Don't you think you're maybe asking too much of her, Dan? She's not a machine, and she's hurting just as much as we are, maybe even more. We don't know why she had too leave, what her parents did to her to make her make that choice. And then she was kicked out of another place she thought she was safe, and now one of her idols is dying and the other is lying here on his lazy ass doing nothing, and she is trying to be strong for all of us. The least you can do is be nice to her, and let her do what she wants. Don't make her do anything! For God's sake, Dan, get a little empathy!" I looked up at PJ in surprise. He never got that angry, and Chris was looking at him like he'd just grown another head.

"I... um... you're right." I said, warily. I hoped he wasn't going to explode again. "I'm being stupid. Sitting here eating Maltesers isn't going to help anyone. I'm going to go and say thank you to Izzy. I'll get her some chocolates or something. I'll go to Tesco's a-" I was cut off by Chris holding his arm out to stop me. I looked at him, my eyes saying a clear question.

"That's a good idea Dan. I just think you should probably have a shower first. You stink to high heaven."

And for the first time in weeks, I smiled a little inside.

Hey guys!

So I'm actually sticking to my schedule... so far!

And oh my god, over 400 reads?!?! What the hell guys! Thanks a lot for reading this!

Also, I've watched the Star Wars prequels and I'm getting a lot of Anakin feels. And Obi-Wan feels. And Yoda feels. And just a lot of feels in general.

Yay! Feels all round!

Peace out, bitches!

*backflips through your window and gives you an ice cream*

~RuneStarArrow