Tied Down.

Baths for one

DANS POV

"Are you sure?!"

"Um..."

I sink my head into my hands and let out a groan, a rush of embarrassment sinking over me. "I can't believe he recorded me. Why didn't you stop him?" I question, looking up at Phil.

"You were hanging off me like a sloth, I couldn't do much cause I was laughing too hard." Phil replies with a small smile.
This is so embarrassing, that's the last time I'm having morphine. And lord help Chris when I next see him.

Phil ruffles out his hair and yawns, checking the time on the clock on the wall.
As he's distracted I look over his somewhat exposed chest from where he hasn't quite done up all the buttons on his shirt and his face.

A passage gets blocked in my throat as I notice the evident burn marks over his chest and upper stomach. They're much better but they're still red and look pretty irritant.
Then there's his face which has a few bruises on, even after all these weeks, scratches and cuts remain. He's put on weight though which is good. I'm still quite thin since I was asleep for a few weeks so didn't eat, but with the help of Doritos, maltesers and my non-eaten cereal I should recover my weight in no time.

I lick my dry lips and sigh, staring around at the hospital room which I've grown so bored of. The beeping of the machines I've learnt to ignore and only notice them if I really listen, along with the strong, pungent smell of disinfectant that at first made the inside of my nose burn. Now it's just a normal thing, like one of those stupid air fresheners.

Hopefully tomorrow we'll be able to go home.
Phil has had time to recover and so have I, I'm sure we'll be fine.

"I'm going to take a bath, will you be alright?" Phil asks, standing up and once again ruffling his hair.
I know that feeling.

I nod and smile. "Course I'll be fine. Don't take long though." he laughs as he opens the door to the small bathroom across the room.
As he closes it I pout and yell out. "Hey, what if I wanted to see you?"

"In your dreams Howell!" Phil calls, chuckling behind the door.

I smirk and lay back on to the pillows. My feet wriggle and I make them poke out the end of the duvet, resting my chin on my chest as I try to amuse myself.

The movement of water catches my attention from the bathroom, a few splashes here and there.

I shake out the thoughts in my head.
It's a hospital Dan, have some respect.

My eyes continue to stay focused on my feet, only glancing towards the door a few times.
I find that when ever a shadow of a person walks by I tense up a little, afraid of not knowing who is there and what that person may do.

My breathing becomes rugged and I start scratching at my arms and hands.
Another shadow. Breathe Dan.
Another one. Breathe.

Before I know it I'm out of bed and knocking on the bathroom door. "Phil," I croak, sniffing away the tears that threaten to fall.

"Dan? Are you okay?" He asks.

I shake my head but then remember he can't see me. "I'm scared. I'm alone." At my reply I hear the water move and after a few seconds the door opens, water is dripping down him as a towel is wrapped tightly around his hips.

I jump into his arms and his hands hold me tightly around my waist. "Shhh, it's okay, I'm here." he whispers softly.
"I'm not gone. I won't leave you."

I pull back and smile weakly through the tears. Phil wipes them away but it doesn't do much since his hands are still soaked from the bath.
With a slow, small movement our lips meet.
It's a short kiss and is over in seconds, but it's enough to know that I'm safe.

"You can get dressed. Sorry." I reply.

Phil shakes his head and picks up his clothes from a chair beside the bed. "I'll do it extra speedy!" He chirps and fast walks into the bathroom.
I laugh and watch as he closes the door again.

Whilst making my way over to the bed I notice that I'm not dizzy. Those tablets that the doctor gave me after the morphine must be doing good.

As I sit down on the edge of the bed, the room gets quiet, the whole world gets quiet.
A loud ringing then pulsates through my ears, making me whimper as I place my hands over them. It stops and as I look around everything is normal. I remove my hands and I can hear the machines and the click of the door as Phil walks out.

He spots me but furrows his brow. "Dan?"

"What?"

"Are you okay?" He wearily asks.
I nod and open out my arms. Phil sits beside me and embraces me so that I'm led on his shoulder.
Tiny trickles of water fall from his damp fringe, one or two landing on my nose and cheek.

His fingers then trace over my arms, over the red scratch marks that have built up over the repetition of my nervous habit.
"You need to stop doing this." He lectures softly.

"I know."

"These are recent. Was this when I was in the bath?" He asks and I nod.

The door then opens suddenly and too forcefully for my liking; making me scream and hide into Phil's chest, clutching at his shirt.

"Sorry Dan, I didn't mean to scare you." the doctors voice says. I lift my head and see it is indeed the doctor.

I clear my throat and straighten up.
"I just came to tell you some news that you will find most enjoyable," He begins.

Phil and I share a glance, hopefulness in both our eyes.
"You can go home now."