stop that, phil

one

Hi so this fanfic is not owned by me but the link is is in the discription if you want the original I just thought I should put it on wattapad ENJOY
A strong stench welcomed me as I walked in the door, groceries in my hands. I kneeled down to pick up the tissue box lying next to the shoe rack. I closed the door with my elbow and rushed upstairs. The kitchen was a train wreck. Plates were stacked on top of each other and the fridge was left open. Eggs were cracked on the floor and fruit flies were buzzing around.
I went in the bathroom to wash my hands, but the sink and the toilet seat were covered in vomit. I backed away as my stomach did a backflip. I quickly shut the door. When I was walking over to Phil’s room, my gaze fell on the blood covered tissues scattered around the floor.
“Phil!” I yelled out, worry mixing with fear. It was a simple flu, he wasn’t supposed to cough up blood. I ran in his room only to see him passed out on his bed. He was taking short and troubled breaths. I held my hand to his forehead, he was burning.
“Phil… Are you awake?”
I assumed he wasn’t. Kneeling down next to his bed, I held his face with my hands.
“You scared me so much Phil. It is just the flu. Please wake up feeling better… for me.”
After I made sure he was actually asleep, I crouched down and held his hand. This was a first.
“I have no intention of leaving you, Phil. You will stop and get better. We will make a video about it and laugh. But for right now, know that I love you. I know you will never say you feel the same and I will never be able to sleep next to you and tell you I love you. So I am saying it now. I love you so much, Phil. Please get better.”
I inhaled deeply and went back to the kitchen and started cleaning up. I cleaned the ketchup stains on the table and did the dishes. When I was done, it looked spotless. I was on my way to the bathroom to clean the vomit when I heard Phil crying quietly.
“Phil! Are you alright?”
He looked at me, the pain visible in his bright blue eyes. He held his head between his hands and he was shaking with each sob.
“Phil? What happened? Oh my god Phil.”
His sobs stopped me from yelling more. Whatever was making him cry, it was scaring me. I hugged him tight, stifling his sobs. We stayed like that for I don’t know how long. I didn’t want to let go of him and he didn’t seem to be wanting to. He was hurt. I was hurt. I loved him. He did not. It didn’t matter now. He was sick and he was hurt and I was broken.
“Phil?” He was half asleep. “Phil? Are you awake?”
“Dan, I am sorry… I… my chest really hurts… I … can you stay with me? For a while…”
“Yeah… yeah sure Phil. I will stay with you.”
This time it was my turn to cry. I held him and cried. I didn’t remember falling asleep but when I woke up Phil was gone. I quickly got up and ignored the dizziness and started looking for Phil. He was in the kitchen, making pancakes. He didn’t notice me walking in. He looked better, less pale and more Phil-like.
“Hey Phil.” He turned to me and forced a smile. I could see the pain in his bright blood shot eyes, his shirt stained with blood. The lump in my throat grew bigger. He looked like all his happiness was long gone, life was sucked out of him.
“Hey Dan. You are awake.” I noticed his bandaged hand, clumsily taped together, blood visible underneath it.
“Phil… what happened to you hand?” The worry in my voice was clear. He looked away.
“Dan. I have to talk to you.” He stopped to take a breath. “Can I talk to you?” He walked up to me, tears glistening his face. He motioned me to go to the living room. Every movement was hurting him. He sat on the couch, one leg underneath him, facing me.
“Phil, what’s wrong?”
“Dan… I am not scared okay? I am fine… I… I just. Dan!” His sobs cut him off. “I am dying okay. Dan… I have… I just got this in the mail. I…” He handed me a thin sheet of paper. I ripped open the white envelope. Quickly skimming through it, I came across the words I had been dreading: terminal, stage 4, cancer. My world fell apart. All my muscles relaxed, leaving me still. Paper slipped out of my hands. I felt as if my heart was ripped out of my chest, worse actually.
The only thing good in my life, Phil, was dying. I was about to lose him and I couldn’t do anything about it. I wrapped my arms around him, as if that would keep him safe, keep him from leaving me. My eyes filled with tears, my throat hurt from trying to hold them back and my heart ached. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to deal with this?
Phil drew in a breath to start talking again but I cut him off.
“Ssh. Goddamit Phil. I am not letting you die. You are not dying. You are not gonna die. Not under my watch. I am here. We will get through it. You are not leaving me, understood?”
He held on to me and cried. I held him and cried. Who else did we have, but each other? God, please don’t take him away from me. I clenched my teeth and a single tear fell on Phil’s face.
“You are real.” He breathed. “You are here, you are real.”
“Of course I am real, you idiot.” We just lied there, sobbing, crying, whispering, apologizing about the things we had no control over. We just lied there in the dark, holding on to each other and trying to find hope.
We spent the next week in a doctor’s office. Every day we went, Phil smiled, faked the most of it, we went back home, I cried when he wasn’t looking.
I thought about how life would be without him. Without the happiness he brought to my terrible life, where would I be? How would I manage to go through every single day without giving into that cold blade? How far would I go? Where would Phil be? Where would Phil go? Would I bother to stop?
I faked smiles, made him laugh, played video games, made videos, made him happy. But every day , he got worse. He was pale, eyes hallow, he was in pain. One day, that day, his birthday, January 30th, he wanted champagne.
“Dan… can you get… bring me some champagne.”
“Yeah, Phil, of course. How are you feeling?”
“Okay I guess, better I think. My chest doesn’t hurt as much as it did this morning.”
“That’s good. So you are thirsty? That could go both ways you know.” We both laughed and as soon as I left the apartment I let the tears fall. After I bought some fries and the champagne Phil liked the most, I called him. No answer. I left a thousand texts, voice mail. He didn’t answer. Goddamit Phil. You can’t just die like that, you can’t die on your birthday.
I ran home, I was out of breath, I couldn’t see or think clearly, my lungs were burning but I didn’t give a single shit. I ran to his room, found him staring at a bottle of pills.
“Phil!” He was startled.
“Dan? You are home…”
“What are you doing? What the hell are you doing?” I snatched the bottle out of his hands. “Are you just going to quit? Are you just going to leave me?!”
“Dan… I was just making sure I got the right medicine. Please calm down.”
This time it was my turn to be shocked. Just because I was suicidal didn’t mean Phil wasn’t brave, it didn’t mean he would take his own life. He wasn’t me. He was much braver than me, brighter than be. And his light was burning out.
“Phil… I thought- I am sorry. I ruined… I ruined your birthday like I ruined every other godforsaken thing I care about. I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am… I am so sorry.” I collapsed onto the chair next to his bed, tears streaming down my face. I was ruining everything. I was poison.
All I did was to ruin things. I was the one that was supposed to die, not Phil. God, not Phil. Not him. Anyone, but him. He held my hand for a little while till I stopped crying.
“I am sorry Phil. I am not even as strong as you are. You… You were the only one keeping me together and now you-“
“I am dying, yes.”
“No! You are not dying. You are not.” I shouted. “You cant die Phil. You need to live. I… I need you. I love you.”
I realized what I had just said and I couldn’t keep myself from looking at his weary face.
“I am sorry. I… I didn’t mean it that way.”
“No, no it is okay.”
Before I knew what happened, his lips were on mine. My tears mixed with his. I loved him so much and it was scaring the living shit out of me that he could die in any minute.
“Happy birthday, Phil.” He smiled, he wasn’t faking it. I smiled. I never smiled this bright in my entire life. Not when I got my first bike, not when I got an A, not when I started YouTube, not even when I met Phil.
“Lets go drink your champagne. I got you a cake too.” I helped him up to his feet as he looked at me.
“Dan. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For giving me a life that I never thought I deserved. I know you think I saved you. I know you think I am the strong one. But no. I know you Dan, how you love me, no matter how imperfect I am. And I love you too. That day… you thought I was sleeping, but I heard you Dan. Since that day, every time I saw your patient smile in the face of death, me, I wanted to tell you how much you meant to me, how much I loved you. I know I don’t have much time, this might be my last chance of saying it. So, Dan, please let me say it, okay?”
“Phil, no! You are not saying goodbye to me.”
“Don’t stop me this time, please. We both know I will be leaving soon. Move on, okay? When I am gone, please be okay. I don’t want you to forget me, but promise me Dan…”
“This isn’t the end Phil. Stop it.”
“No, Dan let me do it. I have to do it. Wherever the hell I’ll go when I die, I will watch over you, so don’t to anything stupid. Because I will watch the shit out of you.”
“Stalker.” I muttered. He snorted. “You are not leaving yet, right? Not yet?”
“Not yet.” He stopped and looked down. “But soon I will.” I wanted to beg him to stop saying that. God, I will be devastated, I will be so devastated. Are you there god? It is me, Dan Howell. If you are out there somewhere, please here me. Whatever you do, please don’t let Phil die. Keep him alive, just like he kept me alive. Please.
I let go of him and went to the kitchen, it felt quiet and empty. Phil’s bowl of cereal was nonexistent, his PS3 controller was no where to be seen. It was already emptied of Phil.
I filled both glasses with his favorite bubbly drink and walked back to his room. He was lying there, still, silent. He was barely breathing. The glasses shattered as they fell from my hands. I stepped over the puddle of champagne and got on my knees next to Phil.
“Phil!” I screamed, every part of me aching. I found my phone and dialed 999.I gave them the address through my sobs.
“Phil! Don’t you dare to leave me, you idiot. We have videos to make, days to spend together, Phil don’t leave me. Phil! Open your eyes! Open your fucking blue eyes, let me see them one last time. Phil…” A sob escaped my throat. I cried and begged, begged to Phil, begged to God.
“Phil… if you leave me like this I will never forgive you… I will… You cant die on your birthday, you cant die Phil. Phil!”
As the ambulance took us to the hospital, I knew I would be going back home alone, without Phil beating me to the door, without Phil. For good. Gone.
I was numb. I held his hand the whole time, whispered his favorite songs. I knew he hated my voice, always complained when I sung in the shower. I didn’t think he would mind me this time. I whispered lullabies, he was sleeping. He was just sleeping, he would wake up.
I was numb. He was dying. I was hurt. He was gone. I was left. He knew his time came, I knew it too. I just didn’t want to believe it. Or to speak of it. As if avoiding the thought would keep the act of it away. It didn’t. Phil was dying. Phil Lester, was dying.
The fucking tears wouldn’t stop coming, the pain in my chest wouldn’t go away. I sunk to the seat in the waiting room, where I waited for the worst. The doctor came out of the ICU as I rushed to my feet.
“Is Phil… is he going to live?”
He shook his head. I was damn near death myself. “He is barely there. He is unconscious. He won’t make it. But at least he won’t be in pain anymore, he will be peaceful up in Heaven, watching you, I am sorry.”
They always said that. They always said death ended the suffering, but what if Phil took suffering over emptiness and nothingness? Nobody asked him. Death didn’t go around asking people for preference, I thought. It just came, took what it wanted and left, leaving behind us, me.
“Can I see him?” He quietly nodded. I walked in the ICU, deliberately, desperately hoping to see him awake, saying it was a joke. But no, he was lying there, lifeless. I held his hand. His breathing was deep and heavy. He was leaving me. Without thinking, I started stroking his hair. I didn’t know what else to do but this felt right. I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t give a shit about anything but Phil slipping away from me, rapidly. I couldn’t hold him. His last words… I started weeping quietly. I rested my head on his hand and sobbed. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.
“Dan.” His voice was raspy and deep, but it was still from the boy I had fallen in love with.
“Phil, Phil please. I am here. I am right here. Please don’t leave me Phil.”
“Dan… I am sorry… to do this… to you. I… love… you.” A single tear fell on the sheets.
“Phil…. Phil!” The machine stopped. A long buzzing voice started ringing in my ears. “Phil!” I shouted. The nurses rushed in, one was even crying. I kneeled down and started yelling out to him. As if he would here me. Could ghosts hear? Could they see the wreck they left behind?
“Phil! Goddamit. Phil! Wake up! Wake up Phil, please. Please…Don’t leave me please…”
He left me. Phil Lester was gone.
3 months later.
I was desperately in need of Phil. I couldn’t do it alone. I had the keys to our flat in my hands, the metal edge biting into my palm. Finally having gathered my courage for months, I had to do it. The pain wasn’t going away. Tears wouldn’t stop. I wanted Phil back. He wasn’t coming back.
I slowly walked in, his birthday cake still there where I left it, probably spoiled by now. “Happy Birthday Phil” it read. It was like a thousand knives digging into my heart. I walked around his room, not daring to look inside. Everything was so empty.
I opened the door, half expecting Phil to be on his bed, wearing his black rimmed glasses, looking up to me and smiling. Of course, he wasn’t there. Nothing was there when I needed it. It looked empty. Hell, it was empty. I was so empty, what the hell was I supposed to do? I stumbled back into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of vodka off the counter. I wasn’t trying to drown out the pain. The pain knew how to swim. I just had to numb myself. For an eternity.
Taking a deep gulp, I went to the living room. I flopped on the couch and chugged the bottle. Now it was empty too.
“Where the hell are you, Phil? Where the hell did you go?” The flat was quiet, silent, empty.
Empty of Phil, empty of happiness. Empty of my smile. Empty of my purpose to live.
“Why did you have to go?” God, why didn’t you take me instead of him. Anger boiled up inside me. I chucked the bottle at the opposite wall, breaking our Lego Pokémon, and sunk to my knees.
“IT’S NOT FAIR.” I screamed. Because hell, it wasn’t. How was it fair? Tears were steadily streaming down my face now. Scrambling to my feet, I grabbed the nearest breakable thing and flung it across the room.
“GODDAMIT PHIL!” I missed him so fucking much. Phil was dead. He was dead. I shivered, the flat was cold. I supposed Phil had taken all the warmth with him when he left. He took my life with him when he left. Why couldn’t he take me too. I would take death over this.
“Where the hell are you Phil? I need you so fucking much.”
My face was soaked and so was Phil’s shirt that somehow ended up in my arms. I tried to hard Phi. I tried so hard to forget. I fucking tried so hard. I ran to the phone and dialed mom’s number.
“Mom?”
“Dan? Honey are you crying--”
“Mom, I am okay. I just wanted to hear from you. I am okay. I just… I miss you.”
“I miss you too sweetie. How are you holding up?”
“Yes Mom,” I gasped. “I am doing better. I… I think.”
“It is okay honey, it will be okay.” Will it really, Mom? Will Phil really come back to me?
“I loved him so much Mom.”
“I know. I know. I am sure he did too. Dan?”
“I am sorry Mom. I love you, tell Dad I said hi.” I just hung up. I was determined, there was no point of living like this. It had been three months and not a single day had passes without me sobbing. My scars were everywhere, in my heart the most.
“It’s over Phil. You are not coming back to me so I am coming to you.” I went to his room, opened his computer. I am coming Phil. Hang on. Hang on for a little more. I grabbed the camera and started recording.
“I know all of you are expecting a “Hello, Internet.” Or a “I am Sorry, Internet.” Sorry, I won’t say that. Actually I might never say that again, so… Uh… as you all know my best friend, Phil… he passed away. I miss him and nothing is the same without him. I tried, but he is not coming back. I am not sure that I can take a video without breaking down crying so I wont be making videos anymore. I am sorry. Please understand me. Thank you… All of you for your support. Phil loved every single one of you and… I am sorry.” A single tear rolled down my cheek.
“Goodbye, Internet.” I turned off the computer. “I am coming Phil.”
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“You weren’t supposed to be dead.”
I love you, Phil. I always did. I always will. I just want you here, next to me. I am sorry Phil. I am just not good at keeping promises. I wish I could bring you back here.
I brought the gun up to my temple. This was the end. I was going too, I was leaving.
1….2…3…