You're Special To Me

Phil's POV- 18

Waiting for news of Dan in a hospital with so many people that could see me if I broke down was horrible. I had no idea what was wrong with him, and I hoped it wasn't bad either.

When a nurse with short dyed-blonde hair appeoached me, my heart lept. I rose from my chair, looking at her anxiously. In one hand she held a clipboard, and as she spoke to me she would look at it from time to time.

"Daniel is very ill, but it is not life-threatening. In fact, he is on the road to recovery, but it is slow. How often does he eat and sleep?"

I licked my dry lips. "He hardly sleeps. He complains of nightmares all the time. And he eats a lot. I mean, he will eat anything in sight if he's just a little hungry."

The nurse nodded. "Any past visits to the hospital?"

"Yes. When we were twelve he was beaten up and he had broken a rib. Sometimes he complains about it, but it doesn't hurt him much."

"Thank you, Phil. You may see him now." She led me down a few corridors before stopping at a regular hospital room, only with Dan inside. As I walked in, I noticed that he was awake but very pale and very tired. His eyelids were a shade of blue, and his hands were trembling at his sides. I sat down on the chair next to him, and he smiled weakly at me.

"Is this what they call recovery?" I croaked, feeling the tears well up. "Oh, Dan, I'm so sorry..."

He flashed me a very confused look. "What are you sorry for? None of this is your fault." His voice was also weak and almost a whisper.

"It is. I should've seen it sooner. I should've noticed you were ill." I took his shaking hand; it was stone-cold.

"Even I didn't know." He sighed. "Please don't beat yourself up, Phil. Not now. Not when I need you the most."

I was about to object, but I shut my mouth and stared into his lovely brown eyes. "You will get better." I promised him. "And we'll be back home in no time, I swear."

He smiled at me. "I love you Phil. So, so much. But you already know that."

I nodded, tears beginning to spill, but they were happy tears. "I do."

***

"Phil." Mrs Howell sighed in relief when she saw me sleeping in the chair next to Dan, who was also asleep. I blinked at her, wondering how long I had been out, until she smiled at me.

"Mrs Howell... hello." I yawned. "I've watched over him for you." My whole body ached from lying in an uncomfortable position, so it was hard to stand up. I offered her the seat.

"Oh, Phil. Why don't you go home and get some rest? I can take over from here." She took the seat.

"But I want to be here-" I stopped myself, and then nodded in defeat. "Okay." I said goodbye and then left the room. In the hallway, I froze and felt a chill creep up my spine. Pushing it aside, I found my own way to the waiting room where my mum sat, her hands laced together on her lap. It suddenly occured to me that I had not phoned her, or left a note to tell her where I was. Guilt settled in, and, as I slumped towards her, I noticed the worry and strain plastered onto her face. At last she saw me, and she brightened, until she saw the look on my face.

"Come here." She whispered, and wrapped me in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled into her shirt. "I should've told you where I was. I should've phoned-"

"Hush, Philly. It's ok. It's ok." She stroked my back. "Dan will be fine. Let's go home."

"I don't want to leave him." I complained, but I didn't have the energy to fight her. She led me to the car, and we drove home in silence. It was good, though, as I had more time to think. What was that cold feeling? And why did I feel like Dan was not getting better? I couldn't lose him.

We pulled up outside the house, and I immediately ran inside, towards the kitchen, and grabbed as many snacks as I could. I wrapped them up in a blanket and took them to my room, where I stuffed them under my bed, ready for that night. I heard my mum calling my name, but I ignored her and collapsed onto my bed, ready to cry. No tears came. I wanted to cry.

***

Night came fast, and still I had not heard from Dan or the hospital. I waited in my room until everyone was asleep before grabbing the blanket full of snacks and gently opening my door. I crept down the stairs and out of the front door, into the chilly night. I shivered.

Starting at a jog, I made my way towards the park, which was in its usual state: absndoned. On the bench where Dan and I always sat, I spread out the food and fished out my phone. I dialled Dan's number, and, of course, it went straight to voicemail.

"Hey, Dan. I'm calling from our park at, like, 01:30. I have a late night picnic here, and I was wondering if you would like to talk to me as if you were here." This is ridiculous, I told myself and hung up. Dan couldn't call. Half an hour passed and I sat staring up at the stars, wondering how many there were. More than I could count for sure. The amount of stars there were in the sky that night was how much I loved Dan, who was so ill that the hospital wouldn't tell me what was wrong. And on that night I told myself to stop being a wimp and go see him, even though I was not allowed.

I didn't bloody care.