Remember how last chapter is relatively happy and cute? Well this chapter is the exact opposite. Enjoy :D
~This chapter is a series of flashbacks in the viewpoint of Dan~
"oOoOoOo" symbolize time passing
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Chapter 12
"Hello?"
"Mr. Howell-Lester?"
"Yes?"
"This is London Bridge Hospital. We have you down as the emergency contact for Phil Howell-Lester. There's been an accident and he's been brought to accident and emergency. We would appreciate it if you could come down as soon as possible as his doctor needs to speak with you."
"...."
"Sir?"
"I...."
"Sir? Do you have anyone who can drive you over?"
"No..What? I can-can come. I'm leaving right now."
"Please report to the nurses desk at the ER. They'll be able to direct you to where you need to go."
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
"So.. He's okay? Like he's going to make it?"
I brace myself for the doctor's response. Nobody has been able to give me a real answer, and it's starting to eat away at me. If he were fine, they'd have told me by now. Why aren't they saying anything?
I force myself to look at Phil. It's not him. That's not the man I married, lying in that bed, hooked up to hundreds of wires with deep, dark bruises covering his body. My husband doesn't have a blood stained bandage covering his head. My husband doesn't have a broken leg hooked up in some sort of sling.
My husband has gorgeous blue eyes and calls me "bear." he makes me hot drinks, just because. My husband is able to squeeze my hand back when I squeeze his.
"He...he's going to regain full motor function, Mr. Howell-Lester."
"Huh?"
I'm broken out of my thoughts by the man in a white lab coat, who is standing at the foot of the bed. I don't even bother remembering his name. It will be someone else tomorrow, so why bother? The only ones I know are the nurses. The handful of sweet men and women that rotate through on a daily basis. They've been my constants through this. But they can't give me any answers.
"So, his body will heal?" I ask, making sure I understand correctly.
"Yes."
Perfunctory, one word answers seem to be a favorite thing among most of the doctors. Why they don't elaborate to me is a mystery. I feel like there's something missing, and I wish somebody would just tell me.
"So, when will he wake up?"
The questions hangs up there between us, the silence more than just uncomfortable. It's downright depressing. I can feeling the weight of it pressing down against my chest, heavier and heavier with each passing second. The doctor flips through the chart in his hands and clears his throat.
"We actually have a neurologist coming in later today. He'll be able to explain thing better."
And then, he's gone, giving me no hope that Phil will wake up any time soon.
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Forget Me Not - A Phanfiction
Fanfiction*contains brief mentions of self-harm* They say that love has no boundaries but what if one of them can't remember who they love? Phil suffers from memory loss in which he can't remember the previous day or his relationship with the love of his life...
