***Phil's POV***
I wake up in the same position on the couch, but Dan is sleeping on the recliner. I'm sweating, and my face is itchy and wet.
It looks like the sun's setting outside. I must've been asleep for hours.
I stretch out my arms and legs, realizing how sore I am.
I stand up, slowly and make my way to the kitchen counter. I unravel the bandage on my hand, revealing dozens of tiny scars covering my skin. I throw the bandage to the side and apply neosporin around my hand and fingers. I try to put band aids on the deeper cuts, but I keep messing up because I have to use my left hand.
I hear shuffling behind me, and I freeze.
Crap. I woke Dan up.
He looked so tired. I feel bad for waking him.
"Here, let me help," I hear Dan say, sleepily. He reaches past me and grabs the box of band aids. I watch him take the paper off and put it on the counter. He gingerly holds my wrist and starts applying band aids.
"Does it hurt?"
"N-No," I mumble.
Why is he still here?
I thought that he'd leave by now.
He acted nice earlier, but I know that he was just trying to make me stop crying.
He was only doing what Dan would do.
"I'm sorry for waking you up," I mumble.
He doesn't take his eyes off my hand, "I shouldn't have fallen asleep in the first place. Remember? I need to 'get back on my usual routine', and I'm pretty sure I don't usually take naps midday." He rubs down a third band aid. "Is that good?"
"Oh, um, yeah. Thanks."
We stand there awkwardly for a second. Dan looks like a mess. I'm sure I look bad too, but he looks really out of it. "Do you want me to redo your head-wrap-thing?" I ask, even more awkwardly.
He touches his head, and smiles, "Yeah, thanks."
"You're kind of tall, so.... Sit here," I order, motioning him to a dining chair. He sits down and I start unraveling his bandage, as carefully as possible. "Tell me if it hurts," I tell him.
He snorts loudly, "That's what she said."
It makes me grin widely. That sounds like Dan. I roll me eyes, "Shut up!"
He keeps laughing. After I take of the wrap, I'm surprised to see how small of a scar he has. I take a second to examine it.
"Does it look okay? Am I the new Frankenstein?"
I laugh, "No, no the scar's actually really small." There's a bald patch on his head where they shaved him, and the scar is only about 3 inches long. "Let me put some neosporin on it, and then I think it will be fine." I walk back to the counter and grab the tube. I lightly smear it on his wound. "There you go."
He stands up, "Thanks, Phil."
"So, what do you want to do now?" I ask, tugging at the bottom of my shirt.
He looks around, and then smiles at me, "I don't know. Did you want to go somewhere?"
I shrug, "I would, but we're both somewhat crippled at the moment," I gesture to my hand and his head. "Want to order something?"
"Yes," he clutches his stomach, "I'm starving!"
I go to my laptop and I order a pizza for us. Dan is watching me from behind. I ask, "Have you remembered any more songs?"
