Open Eyes (Phan)

Twenty Six

Dedicated to Coconut1103 for always commenting. Love your input!!
-TrucePhan
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Dan

The sound of beeping filled the void I had begun to call home. It echoed and bounced off invisible walls.

Beep...

Beep...

Same rhythm. Always.

Once the beeping picked up its pace. And the endless white room turned black. But it only lasted for a little bit.

I could breathe. And think. I could breathe my own air and think my own thoughts. The sound of my own voice filled my otherwise empty mind.

And my lungs seemed to work. They didn't feel heavy and depleted.

I wondered more than once if I was dead. If this was the after life.

I inhaled deeply, filling my chest with air that tasted like rose petals. I sat on the white floor with my legs crossed and focused on my breathing. I felt more at peace here than I had in a long time. Wherever here was.

I forgot my own name. I forgot what life was like. Because here, none of it mattered. Because whoever I was, it was just me. Just me and the rose petal air and my own voice in my head.

"Dan."

A single word. It thundered through the air and rumbled off the nonexistent walls. I opened my eyes and looked to where the ceiling should've been.

Was that me? Was that my name?

"Dan, I'm sorry."

His voice was rich. Like honey. Like purple paint.

"For what?" I called back. I didn't know if the disembodied voice could hear me.

"I am so, so sorry." He repeated. He sound sad. Distraught. Full of despair and dismay.

The waves of an ocean filled my head.

"Please come back to me. Please, I need you."

Come back? To where I was before?

My eyes saw the night.

"I don't know how." I replied.

"God, Dan. I don't know how you became so freaking important to me. It's only been a little more than a month and already I can't imagine being in a world without you in it."

The man sounded like he was crying now. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to hug him but I didn't know where he was. I didn't know where I was.

"Please don't go. Please don't leave."

Snow filled my ears.

I reached a hand up, trying to grasp the voice in my palm.

And then suddenly my eyes were opening and light streaming through my cracked lids. My arms were tied down by wires and chords and tubes.

The beeping noise grew louder.

There was a man sitting in a chair next to my bed. He was holding one of my hands in his. His head was lowered and his shoulders were shaking.

Everything came flooding back in a tide of memories.

Oceans.

The night.

Snow.

Oceans and the night and snow. Phil.

The man was Phil. And I was Dan.

"Ph-Phil?" My voice was like sandpaper on stone.

His head shot up. The first thing I noticed about him were his eyes. They were stained red like flushed cheeks. He had dark bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in weeks.

"Dan, oh my god!" He grasped my hand even tighter. "You're awake!" He inched closer to the bed.

I closed my fingers around his.

"I am."

"You scared the living shit out of me!" He exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

"What happened?" He asked desperately.

"I went to school."

"Why did you do that?"

"Because I had missed a lot. And I thought that I would be able to stand up for myself. I guess I was wrong."

"I'm guessing that guy....." Phil count bring himself to finish the sentence.

"Yeah." I said, already knowing what he meant.

And then there was silence. In which Phil's expression was unreadable and I was pondering everything that had happened in the last few days. Or was it weeks?

"Phil?"

"Hm?"

"How long was I out?" I was terrified to hear the answer.

"Four days. The doctors were starting to think you weren't going to wake up."

"Is that why you said all of those things?" I asked. His eyes widened in surprise.

"You heard all of that?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"That's mostly why I said all of that," he told me after a moment.

"Did you mean any of it?"

"I meant every single word. I need you, Daniel Howell." His ocean eyes drilled into my brown ones. His hands grasped mine even tighter.

"I need you, too, Phillip Lester." I whispered, intertwining my fingers with his.

His skin was warm and soft.

Phil called in the nurse and doctor. They took my vitals and said a bunch of big medical words that I didn't understand. And judging by Phil's expression, he didn't either.

"Well, Mr. Howell," the doctor began, turning to me as he leafed through the papers on his clipboard. "We'll keep you overnight for observation. But if all goes well, you'll be home in the next few days." He smiled warmly at me. The doctor turned on his heel and left the room.

I turned to Phil, who was beaming at me. His pink tongue poked out between his teeth. I smiled back at him. And it didn't feel entirely fake. Like maybe I was finally capable of being happy, or something like it. Like crystal clear water with a splash of bleach.