Chapter Text
Phil should have known it was going to be a bad day from the start. Though it was spring, London was cold that morning and he awoke, far too early, to the chill in his apartment. He headed to the kitchen for some sugary cereal to add some brightness to his day. To Phil’s surprise, Dan was already awake. Or, no, judging by the dark circles under his eyes, he had actually been up all night doing who knows what on the internet. Dan was lying more or less comfortably on the couch with his laptop on his chest.
“You alright there, Dan?” Phil laughed lightheartedly as he poured the milk into his cereal.
Dan didn’t say a word, but his blank expression told it all—Dan was not having any of the world today, including Phil. It was definitely one of those days. But it was fine, sometimes it was like that. Everyone needs some time to themselves to recharge and re-center. Phil thought it was best to give him some space, but since he still wanted to comfort his boyfriend, he decided to pour him a cup of coffee.
Without a word, Phil put Dan’s coffee mug on the table in front of his best friend, eliciting a small nod of appreciation from him. After finishing his own breakfast, he left Dan to his devices and headed back to his room to edit some videos.
A few hours later, Phil heard Dan swear from the hallway, “FUCK, Phil! Why’d you leave this goddamn cactus in the middle of the hall?!”
Phil cringed as he remembered that he had forgotten to move it out of the way after he’d given the plant its bi-monthly spray of water.
“I’m sorry!” Phil stepped into the hall, “Is it alright?”
“It’s fine,” Dan frowned at Phil, “but my foot is covered in bloody cactus spikes now.”
“Oh no,” Phil laughed nervously.
“I don’t find this very funny, Phil.”
“Right, sorry, hold on, I can help you get them out,” Phil offered.
“I think you’ve done enough,” Dan sighed, “I’ll get them out myself.”
“Are you sure?” Phil asked, he wanted to help but he didn’t want to irritate Dan any more than he already had today.
“Yeah, I’m sure, go back to your editing.” Dan waved him away.
Phil left Dan once more to go to his room and was treated to a fun string of profanity from the hall as his boyfriend extracted the cactus spikes from his foot.
After Phil had put in a couple more hours of work and a couple more hours of Netflix, he decided to head into the kitchen again to find something to eat. This time, Dan was nowhere in sight. He looked in the fridge, but it consisted of mostly condiments and beverages. Phil decided the best option at this point in the evening was to order pizza. He certainly didn’t want to go anywhere or cook anything today.
“Dan?” Phil called out loudly, heading to Dan’s bedroom door. “I’m gonna order pizza, what kind do you want?” He didn’t hear an answer, so he opened the door to find Dan sleeping peacefully in his bed. Phil smiled and decided he can’t go wrong with a plain cheese pizza. Dan would appreciate it once he woke up from his sleep.
When Dan finally emerged from his room later that night, Phil greeted him, “Oh, Dan, you’re awake. I ordered pizza, it’s in the fridge.”
Dan only grunted in reply and trudged over to get the pizza. He joined Phil on the couch and Phil rested his arm on Dan’s shoulder. The lack of conversation didn’t bother either of them, but after the episode of The Great British Bake-Off finished, the peaceful silence ended.
“Well I think Ian’s going to win for sure,” Dan remarked.
“Yeah? I don’t know, Flora’s pretty good too. She’s got that timing part down, at least.”
“Psh, what do you know about timing, Phil,” Dan snorted, “you always lose track when we bake.”
“Hey, I made good use of my time today! I got a lot of work done.”
“What are you trying to say, that I wasted the day?“ Dan smiled but his eyes were serious. He was half-joking, but only half.
“No, no,” Phil stammered, “You were just in a bad mood today, that’s all. It’s fine.”
“It’s easy to get in a bad mood when my foot was made into a pincushion thanks to someone’s cactus in the middle of the hall,” Dan retorted.
“Hey now,” Phil folded his arms over his chest, “be honest, you were already in a bad mood before that.”
“Oh, so you do have a problem with it.”
“No, Dan, I, I don’t have a problem,” Phil’s voice rose in pitch and he gently rubbed Dan’s shoulder, “It’s really okay.”
“If it’s so ‘okay’ then why bring it up?” Dan copied Phil’s earlier action and crossed his arms as well.
“I mean, it’s just something that happened.”
It had started so innocently, with each of them discussing their favorite contestant in calm tones, but the tension that had been floating throughout the apartment all day was brought to a boiling point. One light sarcastic remark led to a more cutting one, folded hands turned into crossed arms, and all at once Phil’s seemingly endless patience shattered. It turned into a shouting match with grievances both new and once forgotten shoved at the other with no mercy and no restraint. No word was forbidden as a night that could have ended comfortably in each other’s arms ended with bellowed insults and slammed doors.
When Phil slid down to the floor of his bedroom against the wall, his hands were shaking with the weight of everything he had just said to Dan. Of course they had fought before, but never with so much anger. It was vile, it was everything they usually refused to be. He knew he had to apologize, but he also knew that Dan was running too hot right now to be spoken to, and frankly, he was as well.
It took him about an hour to fully calm down, and it was well past midnight by the time he had worked up the courage to go to Dan and apologize. Phil gently knocked on Dan’s door with a ball of regret and anxiety sitting low in his stomach. He couldn’t hear a response but he slowly cracked the door open.
Phil immediately knew something was wrong. Dan was standing with his hand against the wall for support, his face was red and panicked, and his breathing was ragged and forced.
“Phil,” Dan wheezed, struggling to speak, “can’t breathe!” he managed to make out before he fainted, collapsing to the floor in an instant.
“Dan!” Phil ran to kneel at his side, fear gripping his chest but unsure of what to do. His eyes darted back and forth as he struggled to react. Should he call an ambulance? Get him to an emergency room? There was no time to think. Phil summoned all his strength and gently lifted Dan off the floor. Cradling his best friend in his arms, his voice trembled as he whispered, “I’m so sorry Dan, you’ll be alright I promise.”
Phil arrived at the hospital with little memory of getting there, and as soon as the nurses took Dan from him all the adrenaline drained from his body, leaving nothing but exhaustion and restless anxiety. He was told to sit in the waiting room, so he did, though it felt more like purgatory. An eternity later, they finally allowed him into Dan’s hospital room.
Dan was asleep and looked paler than usual in the fluorescent light. An IV drip was attached to his right hand, and a respiratory mask covered his mouth. He had been changed into a blue hospital gown, and his dark clothes had been folded and stacked on the end table next to the bed. Phil sat himself down on a chair at Dan’s left side and held his free hand with both of his. Phil took a long look at him and tears began to well up in his eyes.
“If only there was some way I could make things right. Dan…” Phil thought before exhaustion overtook him. He fell asleep leaning on Dan’s hospital bed, still holding his hand tight.