The Phan in Our Stars

IV

The next day was the best day. Dan woke up extra early (which, coming from someone who typically wakes up around 3 pm, was the ultimate sign of love) to shower and get ready. After dressing in his "This is not a pipe" shirt, he ordered room service breakfast. The hotel room they were staying in had a desk with a small chair near Phil's side of the bed. Dan sat and admired Phil still sleeping in bed until there was a knock at the door.

"Hmm?" Phil's eyes snapped open, startled.

"Room service," Dan said quietly, kissing Phil's forehead, making him blush.

"Nice arse!" he called after Dan playfully as he crossed to the door to get breakfast. Dan shot him a playful glare as he opened the door.

***

"Are you sure you're feeling up to this Phil?" Dan asked as they walked along the canal.

"Dan of course I'm fine!" Phil laughed, taking his boyfriends hand. "After this day, breakfast in bed, boatrides, that lunch, GOD I may never eat again; strolls on the canal, Dan I'm up for anything right now."

Dan couldn't help but smile, hearing Phil talk like that. He was so happy, and he was barely limping. His face was slightly pink from the cold breeze, but the color made him look more healthy and lively than he had in weeks. "As long as you're sure you're feeling alright, that's what matters to me." He laughed.

The two boys continued walking, zigzagging through the Amsterdam streets until they found themselves in front of the Anne Frank House.

"You're sure?" Dan asked as they stood in the queue for tickets.

"Dan I swear if you ask me one more time I might actually kill you," Phil said.

"I don't know, I think I could outrun you," Dan winked.

"Woooowww," Phil teased, jabbing Dan in the ribs.

"Oh I wouldn't!" Dan laughed, kissing Phil's cheek gingerly, "but you know I could." He teased.

The two boys continued to tease each other until they reached the ticket desk, pausing only for a quick kiss or shoot a wink at the other. After being admitted, the two boys entered, holding hands into a room featuring a video about the Nazi invasion of the Netherlands. When the video was over the boys climbed the first set of stairs. Dan squeezed Phil's hand tight the whole way up.

"I'm fine. I promise." Phil reassured him.

"I just worry about you," Dan said with a loving but serious look.

This floor was the one where Otto Frank's business had been. The famous bookcase behind which the Franks had hidden was against a far wall. It was open and behind it was another set of stairs, only wide enough for one person.

"You go first," Dan said. Phil nodded back at him. These steps were slightly more intimidating but Phil took deep breaths and counted each stair as he climbed. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven..

About halfway up, Phil's leg started to bother him for the first time all day. He stopped in his tracks.

"You okay?" Dan asked from behind, grabbing Phil's arm.

"Oh yeah, fine." Phil said, shaking off the momentary pain. He continued climbing. Eight, nine, ten, eleven. Another sharp pain shot down from Phil's knee, but this time he didn't stop climbing.

Twelve.

He could do this.

Thirteen.

He had to do this.

Fourteen.

Only one more.

"You're hurt aren't you?" Dan asked when he reached the top of the stairs.

"No, just ran out of breath for a minute," Phil said reassuringly, "Come on."

"Can you believe it?" Dan asked, entering the next room, "Can you imagine living in this room, all that time?"

"Being trapped," Phil said quietly, inspecting the posters and photographs which still decorated the walls of Anne's room, "Can't imagine being trapped like that."

Dan knew it wasn't true, though. Phil was trapped: trapped inside his own body in the midst of a war against himself. Dan knew that Phil was thinking the same thing, and it made him sad. He walked up behind him and placed a hand on his back.

"I--" Phil began.

"You don't have to say anything." Dan said. They stood there for a few minutes, alone, just staring at the wall covered in old photographs.

"It's just sad," Phil said after a long few minutes.

"I know."

"She did everything right." Phil said, quietly.

"What?"

"Anne Frank. She did everything right," Phil repeated, "She fought for so long--"

"Phil--"

"She still died."

"Phil."

"Don't." Phil said, "Sometimes people die. And it isn't fair. And they fight so hard to stay alive and they die anyway. And there's nothing they can do, nothing anyone can do. They just... die."

Dan didn't say anything.

"Dan?" Phil turned to face Dan. He wasn't crying, he didn't even look upset, which surprised Dan a little. "Anne Frank died, Dan," Phil continued, "But it wasn't her fault. And it wasn't her family's fault either." Phil's eyes locked with Dan's and he understood.

"I know," Dan said, lacing his fingers with Phil's.

Phil gave him a small smile and whispered, "Come on."

Phil led Dan to the next set of stairs, which was essentially a ladder. A tall ladder.

"You go first this time," Phil said, "Then you can help me up if I need it towards the top."

"Yeah, okay," Dan agreed, "If you're sure."

"I'm great," Phil reassured him.

"Alright," Dan started up the ladder. Once he was about halfway up, Phil started up behind him. A few steps up the sharp returned to Phil's leg. He tried to ignore it, but this time the discomfort remained. He continued to climb, ignoring the pain with all the strength he had.

Around the middle of the ladder, the pain started to spread up his leg.

"Ahh-"

"Phil?" Dan turned and looked down at Phil behind him, "Phil are you okay?"

"I think I'll be--" The pain coursed through Phil's leg at an alarming speed, his vision started to blurr.

"Phil?"

"Dan--"

"Oh my god-- PHIL!"

And everything was black.