How Did We Get This Far? (Dan and Phil Fanfiction)

Chapter 24

Dan's POV

I woke up every morning for the next 3 weeks in exactly the same way: I yawned and whispered: "Hey, babe, is today the day? Are you ready yet?" She would just groan and push me off the bed.

But she kept to her word.

One morning, she woke up first and wrapped her arms around my chest. "I think today's the day." she whispered in my ear. I spun around and kissed her. I kissed her again and again and again. "Not now you idiot!" She slapped my arm as I started to roll on top of her. "Go to work." She laughed and pushed me out of bed.

I practically sang my whole way through the radio show before happily making my way home.

Just over a week later, Eliza took another pregnancy test. She had taken one earlier and it came out negative. I told her that it was just taken way too soon.

I paced back and forth outside the bathroom door. It slowly creeped open and she leaned in the doorway. She bit her lip and sighed, "Still negative, Dan."

"Maybe we should just try again?"

So, a couple of weeks later, we did, and soon enough, I was pacing outside the bathroom once again. I heard glass shatter from inside the room and then the door opened. "It's still negative Dan. It's still fucking negative."

Considering how badly she had been against this, I wouldn't have thought she would be this upset. She fell into my arms and I tried to hide my disappointment. "What if there's something wrong with us, Dan? What if we just can't do it?" I considered it in my head for a moment.

"Let's just try again, one more time, and then we'll go and check if everything is okay."

We ended up trying two more times, both in complete denial that there was a problem with either of us.

On the fourth she opened the door and fell into my chest. "Still negative?" I asked her. She slowly raised her head to look up at me; just below her nose and above her chin was the widest smile you have ever seen.

"It's positive. DAN, IT'S POSITIVE." I laughed, breathlessly, and fell against her. I lifted her up and spun her round and round. I couldn't believe it. I was going to be a Dad. We were going to be parents!

The next 9 months were insane. Eliza was right, she was a fucking nightmare while being pregnant. She ordered me around and got frustrated when she couldn't do anything herself. Everything was a huge drama to her. She was grumpy all the time and we had so many arguments each day.

At 6 months of the pregnancy, we were told there was some complications and Eliza had to come into the hospital. She had to stop doing her article in the magazine, which she got paid quite a lot for, because she was in hospital so much. This meant I had to do my radio show, plus any cover that needed doing, just so we had enough money to pay the bills and put food on the table.

Sitting in the hospital, and waiting for the news on the baby was one of the worst moments of my life. Doctors and nurses came out telling me nothing because it wasn't "confirmed" yet. They didn't seem to know anything. After hours and hours of waiting, and hundreds of cups of coffee, a doctor finally came out and told me that Eliza was fine. The baby was fine. Just a bit larger than usual at this stage in the pregnancy, which would mean the birth could be long and difficult, but it was doable.

When we got home we huddled together on the sofa, watching an old re-run of American Horror Story. Whenever things got hard, like this, I would always whisper: "I love you. It'll all be better soon." She smiled and placed my hand on her belly. There was a kick, I smiled and kissed her. Still surprised that all of this was actually happening.

One Monday afternoon, we were watching tv, when Eliza suddenly shouted: "Shit! Dan. Hospital. Now. Shit!" I took her hand and she started crying, the fear turned her face pale. I kept repeating the same supportive phrases over and over, trying to calm her down, trying to remind her why we were doing this, and the happiness that would come afterwards. 

Despite what the doctor had said, the baby seemed to want to come out very quickly.

Maybe a little too quickly.

I held her hand and shouted encouraging words as she screamed and cried and sweated her way through the birth. She cried out in pain and I just couldn't take it. I hated seeing her this hurt. I bent over, kissed her forehead and whispered, as I always did: "I love you. It'll all be better soon."

That was the last thing I ever said to her.

I heard the crying of a new born baby, and I smiled with delight, squeezing Eliza's hand playfully. A nurse suddenly escorted me out of the room. "Wait. What's going on?"

"That was a hard birth, sir, I'm afraid she might not make it." I stared at the nurse.

"Wha.." I couldn't finish that word.

I couldn't finish any word. I felt like I had been knocked around the head with a hammer. My hand clasped my mouth and the tears streamed down my face. I suddenly forgot all about my new born child, and all I could think about was the beautiful girl I may have just lost.

35 minutes I was sat in that waiting room. Those minutes were even more painful than the hours I spent waiting to hear if the baby was okay. I couldn't move. I couldn't believe it. It wasn't true. No way.

I couldn't even manage to call Phil, my best friend. I had to text him, instead. He tried to call me, but I couldn't answer.

I kept my hands over my face and remembered the first time I said hi - both of us watching her brother in his happiest moment.

I thought about our first kiss on the beach, and the boys' reaction on the bus afterwards.

I remember the first time she said "i love you", after the guy beat me up.

I remember how she got me out of a major existential crisis.

I remember how sad I was when she left Phil's wedding without saying goodbye.

Now she might be leaving this world without saying goodbye.

At that, I shouted into my hands. This couldn't be it.

I thought about how beautiful she looked in her wedding dress as she walked down the aisle at our own wedding.

I thought about how I was never as happy as I was on our honeymoon, in Greece.

I thought about waking up next to her every morning, and us cuddling in bed before I rushed off to the radio station. And how she jumped up on me the day she told me she wanted kids.

I screamed into my hands, again.

This was my fault. This was all my fault. I forced her to have kids. If it wasn't for me, she would still be alive.

She could still be alive.

She's a fighter. She'll make it through.

A doctor tapped me on the shoulder. I glanced at him, and his sympathetic face, just as I was starting to convince myself that she'd make it. "I'm sorry, Mr Howell. But she's gone." I screamed into my hands and squeezed my head, the tears were gushing down my face.

Phil, Clara and Eliza's parents came running down the hall. I looked at all of them and shook my head, walking outside.

I fell to my knees on the grass outside. I shouted and I screamed. I remembered her coming home drunk. I remembered her voice and the way she kissed. Quickly at first, unsure, and then slowly. I punched my fists into the ground. I felt a hand on my shoulder and ignored it. But I remembered that Lester smell. It was the same smell Eliza had. I scrunched up my face and let out another cry for help. 

Eliza was gone.