Phan Oneshots

MACHO Pt 1

Phil's POV (AN the bits in bold are Dan's lines)

RING. RINNGGGG. RINNNNNNGGGGGG

Groaning, I sat up and ribbed my eyes. I looked at my side and glared at the ringing phone next to me. How dare it interrupt my beauty sleep.

Glancing at the caller ID, I immediately softened and picked up, to be met with a frantic voice at the other end shouting things really quickly and panicking.

"Tom? TOM. Just take a deep breath and explain to me loud and clearly."

Tom took a deep breath.

"Diane can't make her 10 o'clock cause she broke her leg the other day when she tripped down some stairs. I can't step in for her cause I have a 9 o'clock and 2 o'clock with Children's and St Mary's, so you're going to have to put up with Bartsworth." I groaned again. Sighing, I mentally noted that Tom owed me one and agreed.

"I'm sorry you missed your day off Phil, it's just that I've been phoning everyone and they're all up north doing the field trip with Patterson's and Aunt Mabel's. You know how rowdy they are." I nodded and grimaced at the memories of paint splattering everywhere and rabies shots in my leg.

"Okay then, bye. Good luck with Children's!"

Hanging up, I slung my legs over the side of my bed and stood up, shrugging on my orange MACHO polo and slipping on my black jeans. Looping my name badge over my neck, I grabbed my keys and walked out the front door.

MACHO stands for the Make A Child Happy Organization. Weird name, I know. Basically, a bunch of volunteers go to Children's hospitals for at least 2 hours to talk to the kids and just kind of be there for them. I only volunteered for the summer holidays, but to be honest, I'd be happy if it was my real job for the whole year. It's really sweet and touching to talk to the kids, and a bit heartbreaking that all thes kids with cancer have to grow up so quickly, knowing that they might die way before any of their friends do.Overall, I love my summer job.

Jumping into my orange van (I know, I got a free van!) I stopped off at Starbucks to grab a coffee before making my way to Bartsworth Hospital. It was a good day today; no attacks or random seizures, no breakdowns or crying. Bartsworth is actually known as the happiest hospital to MACHO, compared to the horror that is Patterson's and Aunt Mabel's. I pity the poor souls that have to spend a 2 hour ride with them.

Because Diane's 10 o'clock lasted the whole day, I grabbed a lunch from the canteen and sat outside in the sunshine. I was just about to whip out my phone for a quick game of flappy bird when a figure sitting in a tree caught my eye. It seemed to be one of the teenagers here, so, as it was my 'duty' (and my nature to care for others), I put my bagel and water in my pocket and my phone in my belt. (By the way, I got a belt! It's attached to the polo and has stuff like disposable inhalers and plasters. How cool is that?! Maybe getting to know the kids isn't the only reason I volunteer.)

Reaching the base of the tree, I realized just how high up this boy had climbed, and was impressed. Nobody but patients of the hospital were allowed in this part of the grounds, so to climb that high with an illness of some sort was a big feat. Jumping, I managed to grab hold of a branch and swing my body up to the next one. I reached the boy to see that he was drawing in a sketchbook. He had chocolate brown hair and matching eyes, and his face scrunched slightly as he concentrated. He jumped as I placed a hand on his shoulder, and immediately stuffed his book into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, as if it was reflex. Bullies. I instantly thought, and clenched my hands slightly. After hearing all these stories about kids made fun of because they're ill, I've REALLY grown to hate them.

I swapped over to a branch that was opposite him, and grinned at the Manchester University sweatshirt he was wearing.

"That's the university I went to." I commented. He simply shook his head and pointed at his ear.

Do you know how to sign? he signed.

Yes. I replied. I learned in MACHO training.

So you're a nacho?

A nacho?

That's what they call the people who work for MACHO.

Well I guess I'm a nacho then. He grinned.

My name is Dan

My name is Phil. How did you get all the way up here?

Practice. Also, a determination to prove my doctors wrong that I can climb trees with a fake leg.

Do you have cancer? I asked. He nodded and knocked on his right leg. Then he knocked on his left arm.

Pretty bad, huh?

I simply nodded.

Augustus Waters cancer. I'm unstable. Prone to mood swings, sudden bursts of pain and sarcasm. I heard that I might get metaphorical soon.

I laughed, shaking my head. I bit my lip and sighed. If we had met at Manchester Uni, I could guess we could've been good friends.

What's wrong?

Nothing, it's just that I find it sad that sometimes cancer picks the best people in life to latch on to.

His grin faltered, and he brought his knees to his chest.

"I'm not one of those people." he said, and my mouth opened.

"You're not deaf?" I asked.

He frowned again and motioned for me to sign it.

You're not deaf?

"I am, it's just I...have a lot of spare time on my hands and a doctor as a dad." he was stuttering slightly and paused between words, but overall, he was actually quite good.

Is your dad a doctor here?

"Yes, but he's not really my dad he's my .... my...." He paused and looked like he was looking for a word, testing it in his brain. He was panicking slightly, and I rubbed his back. Sighing, he put his face in his hands, curling into a smaller ball. Silent tears streamed down his face, and I hopped onto his branch to hug him gently. Suddenly, he was gasping and wheezing, coughing and struggling to sign.

Inhaler. he signed, and I scrambled in my belt to get one for him. Taking a breath, he calmed down. "I forgot to mention that too."

It's okay

It really isn't. I can't hear, I can't breathe, I can't walk normally and I can't have friends. I'm a mess.

No you're not. And you can have friends if you want to, you just have to try. And it doesn't matter that you're not normal, that just makes you more interesting.

Screwing his eyes shut, he laid his head on my shoulder and sighed.

"I'm not interesting."

I decided to change the subject. So your dad is actually your...

Mum's friend. She just dumped me here when I was 5 because I had cancer and she couldn't afford it. Haven't seen her since.

Does he let you help with his paper work?

Suddenly, a horrified look appeared on his face. He mouthed the word paperwork and gasped.

"What day is it today?" he asked, his eyes wide open.

Wednesday. I replied, confused.

He covered his mouth and jumped off the branch. I tried to grab him, but he had already disappeared. "Dan!" I shrieked. We were pretty high up, and a jump from this height could kill him. But instead of a body on the ground, I saw a shadow swing from a branch and land lightly, running back into the hospital at breakneck speed. He disappeared through the doors that lead to the psychiatric ward.

Turning, I gingerly stepped on a branch that was close to the one I was sitting on and swung my way down the way Dan had just done, but much less gracefully and landing on my feet with a loud thump. I raced after him, and scanned the corridors for any sight of him. I was genuinely worried.

I was a nacho, of course. I needed to make a child happy. It might as well be this one.