~Phil's POV~
"So give us a thumbs up if you liked this video!" I say cheerily. "Subscribe to Dan by clicking on his channel, click on my bubble somewhere over here-ish," I laugh as Dan starts making weird hand gestures around my chest, "subscribe to the gaming channel by clicking here-ish, and we'll see you next time!" I wave to the camera. "Goodbye!" Dan and I chorus together.
I reach over to turn off the camera, but my foot gets caught at the back of Dan's thigh, and I plunge straight into the camera. Both me and the camera fall into the lights, which blink for a bit before dying out. In the end, everything's in a heap on the ground, with me buried under the camera equipment.
Dan rushes over, "OMG Phil are you OK?!" I look up at his face, filled with concern, blurring into focus. I try moving my legs, but they seem to be stuck. My arms are fine though, and I don't seem to be hurt anywhere.
"Yes, I'm fine," I say, smiling at Dan. "Classic Phil," he says sarcastically, a smile tugging at his lips. He holds out a hand to help pull me up, but when I reach out to grab it, my shoulder hits the wall, which was already damaged by the equipment. The whole apartment rumbles, and I look up to see a huge chunk of the ceiling come loose. Too late, I realize I need to move. I feel a tugging on my arms and realize it's Dan trying to move me out of the way. I try to scramble to safety, but my legs are stuck under the lights. I knew we should've gotten the other lights.
Dan tugs at me too hard, causing him to fly backwards, and he watches in horror as the chunk of ceiling falls onto me. It hits me hard, and blue and pink stars dance around my vision. "Dan," I croak. I hear his voice in the background, but it's slightly muffled. "Dan?" I muster the last reserves of my energy. "DAN!!!!!!"
"Don't worry, lo- I mean, Phil, it'll be alright. I'm calling the hospital - GET HERE FASTER YOU STUPID AMBULANCES-"
I chuckled weakly, then I fall to the ground and the lights went out.
~Dan's POV~
"Come on Phil please be okay, be okay, please be all right, this hospital is rubbish."
I'm pacing around the hospital waiting room. I called the hospital and they put Phil on a stretcher, whisking him out of our apartment and into the hospital in record time. I held Phil's hand (for moral support) and when the nurse said to leave so she could transport the patient, I refused. She took a closer look at me and I think she recognized me from my YouTube channel, and she looked down at Phil and gasped. She agreed to let me ride in the back of the ambulance (thanks phandom nurse) and I stroked Phil's hands and murmured encouraging things to him like, "you'll be all right Phil."
Once we arrived, the nurse kindly asked me to wait, as it unfortunately wasn't possible for me to stay with Phil any longer, so I sat in the waiting room, tapping my fingers on the table and trying not to go into Philielstential crisis mode. It didn't work, of course, so now I'm up and pacing.
"Phil... he can't be dead, can he? I mean, it was only a chunk of ceiling and our ceiling isn't made out of bricks or anything, plus he was lying down so it fell on him so the impact wasn't too bad, plus I called the hospital right away," I muttered as I paced. "But what if that chunk hit him in the stomach and bursted his organs or something-" I clutched my head. "PHIIIILLLLLLL!!!!!" I shouted out, scaring the other people waiting as I collapsed in a sobbing heap on the floor.
Gosh dang it, I would run a mile, no, make that a hundred, to save Phil, right now. I would delete my channel if it meant I could save Phil. I WOULD GIVE UP MEMES FOREVER.
A different nurse comes out and says, "Daniel Howell?"
I rise up from my chair, "yeah?"
She says, "come with me. You seemed pretty worried about your friend Philip."
"Erm, Phil," I corrected her. She leads me down a hallway, then takes a left and then a right. We climb up two flights of stairs before she leads me down the hall and leads me to Phil's door. She opens it and I rush inside.
What I see inside is horrible. Phil is hooked up to all kinds of life support, he's hooked up to an IV and I see a monitor beeping. A curtain protects Phil from the outside world, and I fling it open to see my best friend's pale face had gone even paler.
"OMG PHIL ARE YOU OK," I say before trying to hug him, then realizing he's probably not in the condition to be hugged. I resist the urge, but my arms still move of their own volition.
For a second, I fear that Phil will not respond, but he shifts a little bit, his eyes not opening, and asks me, "Dan, is that you?"
