Information: Dan suffers from bad epilepsy. "It's my fault" is basically about different episodes involving this subject. ALL THE PARTS ARE 100% INDEPENDENT OF EACH OTHER!

Prompt: "Dan has a fit on a plane and Phil gets all protective and angry because they won't land the plane early because Dan's not fitting anymore or something but Phil wants to get to hospital."

Someone asked for this^^ Of course. Here we go! (Phan oneshot)

READ PART 1 |

A/N: If you have an idea for another part for this, please let me know!

Contains: Fluff, angst, chronic illness, very protective and angry Phil

Warnings:

Phan status: Together

Words: 6.013

POV: Point of view changes through the story

It's my fault part 2

DAN'S POV!

I was slowly drifting off to sleep in my uncomfortable chair when someone gently rubbed my arm and nudged me a bit. My eyes opened slowly in confusion.

"We're boarding now," Phil whispered into my ear, moving in as close as he could.

"Yeah, okay…" I answered sleepily and turned in my chair, trying to wake myself. We were about to fly home to England after a week at Playlist Live. It had been a pretty rough, but good few days, and I was exhausted now.

"Should I let you stay and then call you up when it's our turn to get on?" he asked, still whispering while he stroked my arm.

"No. No, it's fine. Just give me a second." I lazily rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and got to stand. The sudden movements made my head spin slightly, so I stood still.

"Okay?" Phil asked and squeezed my arm quickly.

"Yeah. Let's go." We got back in line and now we just had to wait until it was our turn to get onboard.

We moved closer to the desk, and Phil handed me my passport along with my plane ticket. We were almost the last ones to check in because Phil had had to spend an extra minute on waking me up.

I unsteadily stretched my arm towards the woman behind the desk, but just as I was about to show her my passport, all the muscles in my arm went rigid and I involuntarily moved it quickly to the side, making me drop everything I was holding including my jacket and a bottle of water.

"Sir?" the lady asked me. But I was completely zoned out.

A few seconds passed and everything went back to normal. Phil had already picked up my stuff and handed me back the passport and the ticket while he held my jacket for me.

"Sorry…" I whispered.

"It's okay," Phil assured me.

I smiled a little nervous smile and handed the lady all my things.

"Okay. Have a safe flight." She smiled widely.

"Thanks," I mumbled as I walked past her.

Phil was right behind me, and we walked through the corridors towards our ride home.

"Should I take it back?" I offered and pointed to my jacket and water bottle, which Phil was holding besides his own.

"No it's fine. I can take it."

"Thank you," I muttered, smiling at the ground. I couldn't wait until we got on and I could go back to sleep.

The other passengers walked by, making me and Phil the last to board because I was moving so slowly.

"Welcome aboard," one of the stewardesses greeted me. I smiled politely to her and moved my gaze back to the floor.

"You've got to be kidding me," Phil breathed out.

"What?" I asked, stopping behind him.

"I ordered those seats." He pointed right in front of us. Phil had gone through a lot of effort to get us the seats in the front of the plane, mostly for me in case I had a seizure. But now an old couple was sitting in our seats.

"Excuse me, but you're sitting in our seats, sir." Phil tried to sound calm, but I could hear he was really annoyed.

"He's got a bad knee, so we asked to be moved." His wife responded with a far-too-happy smile.

"What?" Phil said, sarcastically.

"His knee is really bad…"

"Yeah, I heard you. Is this a joke?" Phil raised his voice a bit. "Now move out of our seats, please."

"Phil…" I gently poked his shoulder, making him turn around. "It's okay. We can just sit somewhere else." I wouldn't be able to stand up much longer because I was so tired. This seemed to take some time.

"What seem to be the problem?" the same lady from before asked as she walked closer.

"I think you made a mistake because I ordered those seats and now someone else is sitting in them." Phil was sounding more and more angry. Some of the other passengers had started staring at us.

"I'm sure we can find other seats for you, sir." The stewardess smiled. She was obviously referring to that fact that me and Phil were strong young men—we could sit somewhere else, without room for our legs.

I sighed softly, leaned back against the wall, and closed my eyes. I couldn't handle this right now.

"Listen." Phil turned fully towards the lady. "This has been a long day." He lowered his voice, making his point as clear as possible. "I'm really tired and he's really ill." He pointed at me and the lady looked me over. "Now please, get those idiots out of our seats!" he spat into her face.

I don't think I'd ever seen Phil that angry. I felt kind of bad, because it was all for me. If I weren't there, this wouldn't be a problem.

"Phil…" I whined. The couple in our seats just sat like they didn't care at all. They wouldn't even look at us. Maybe they didn't believe I was ill. But of course, you couldn't see I was if you didn't know. "Please," I begged. I just wanted to sit down and go home to London as fast as possible.

"Wait, Dan. We're not sitting somewhere else…" Phil began.

"Excuse me? But we can move instead." I moved my attention to the right where the voice had come from. A younger woman with a baby on her arm was giving me a friendly smile.

"Thank you so much," I breathed out, exhausted, and forced myself to stand up straight.

"No problem," her boyfriend responded, also smiling. I guess you could still find nice people in this world.

"Thank you," Phil said and turned around. "Really, it means a lot."

"Of course." They picked up all their stuff and the stewardess led them down to the other seats.

I sat down beside the window and threw my head back against the seat. Phil just glared angrily at the old couple.

"Let it go, Phil," I whispered as I closed my eyes. "We got the seats. Forget it."

"Unbelievable!" Phil said, loud enough for them to hear.

PHIL'S POV!

How could people be so rude? Of course they couldn't see what was wrong with Dan, but making a bad knee into an excuse for not wanting to move? That was enough to make me sick.

"Sorry, but what is wrong with him?" the man beside me nervously asked. "If you don't mind me asking?"

I quickly looked at Dan who was leaned against the window already half-asleep.

"It's okay." I smiled. "He has epilepsy." I knew Dan hated everything about it and hated when people asked questions, but I understood why the man besides us wanted to know what was wrong.

"Oh… okay." He smiled back and opened his book.

The plane started moving and I turned my attention to Dan. I quickly buckled his seat belt and moved him around, making him comfortable the best I could.

Considering all the stress we had been through in the last few days, Dan had been surprisingly okay. No major cramps or anything serious we'd need to report. But now he was absolutely exhausted and I understood.

I took Dan's hand in mine and gently stroked his skin with my thumb. He didn't react, so I opened my book and began to read.

A couple of hours had passed, and Dan was still passed out asleep, but now against my shoulder instead of the window. I would soon have to wake him up because he needed to take his medication. I felt kind of bad for doing it—he looked so peaceful and I didn't want to be the one to ruin it.

I carefully moved Dan's head away from my shoulder and stretched my arm, clicking the button to call someone from the staff.

"You called?" A woman smiled to me.

"Yeah, hi. Could I maybe get some water?"

"Of course, sir." She turned around and walked away. I quietly opened my bag and searched through it, trying to find the pills.

"Thank you," I said as the woman handed me the bottle of water. I placed everything in my lap before I turned my attention back to Dan.

"Dan." I nudged him a bit. "You have to wake up."

"No…" he mumbled, turning to face the other way. "Five more minutes…"

"I'm sorry, but you have to wake up."

"Are we home?" he asked, still with his eyes closed.

"About halfway I think. Maybe more," I whispered. This time I didn't get a proper answer, just some exhausted groans before he got back to sitting up straight.

"What do you want?" he asked and sleepily rubbed his eyes.

"I want you to take this," I answered. I held out my hand with the pill on it.

"Yay." He sighed. He took the pill from my hand and grabbed the bottle of water.

"You can go back to sleep now if you want," I told him, carefully brushing his hair out of his eyes. It was slightly messed up from sleeping on my shoulder. "You okay?"

He looked a little pale and the white in his eyes had changed colour to a light red. "I feel sick…" he muttered as he leaned against my hand.

"Oh…" I said, surprised, and felt my heartbeat rise a bit. "Should I follow you to the toilet?" I asked, a little nervously.

"Not that kind of sick, Phil. Just, you know…" He let out a long breath and pressed himself further into the seat while he held onto the armrests. I watched him as his whole body went tense and quickly relaxed shortly after, making him hold his breath with each cramp. It did that a couple of times and I just kept staring at him.

"Fu… uck."

"It's okay." I tried to turn in my seat, to get a better view.

"No it's no… ot, don't say that." Dan snapped.

"It's gonna stop soon," I whispered and grabbed a hold on his shoulder. "Relax."

He nodded slowly and groaned when he tried to catch his breath. "I can't do this," he quietly sobbed.

"Of course you can.." I tried. "Come here." I opened my arms, asking him to lean against me, but he just shook his head and faced the other way.

"Why did you have to wake me up?" he groaned.

"I'm sorry," I whispered as I gently stroked his shoulder.

He didn't say anything else so I decided to let him be for a moment. I didn't want to pressure him. Maybe he would fall back to sleep.

But he didn't. He just kept moving around in this seat. I got more and more nervous. I wouldn't like it if he had a seizure on the plane.

"Dan."

"What?" he answered, annoyed.

"Calm down," I whispered, placing my hand on his knee.

"I can't." He let out a few whimpers like he was about to cry. "I need to use the toilet," he breathed out and quickly got to stand.

"I'll follow you." I didn't want him to be alone; his behaviour was making me worried. I followed him towards the toilet, but it wasn't big enough to fit us both.

"Please don't lock the door," I begged and looked seriously at him. He rolled his eyes at me and stepped in, but didn't lock it.

DAN'S POV!

I didn't want to be on this plane anymore. I couldn't stand being anywhere. Everything was annoying—I didn't know where to put myself.

It was hard to explain how I felt, but I just wanted some peace and my mind wouldn't give me that.

I sat down on the toilet seat, hid my face in my palms and let out a long sigh.

All my muscles went tense and quickly relaxed again. I groaned loudly. I couldn't handle this—it was not the time for this right now. In pure frustration I kicked the door opposite me.

"You okay?" Phil asked through the thin door.

"N… no." Small tears were forming in my eyes. I didn't have the energy for cramps like this.

"Can you please open up?"

"No. Just give me a minu…" But my movements cut me off. "Fuck!" I kicked into the door again, harder this time.

"Everything okay?" an unknown lady's voice asked.

"I think so. He just needs a moment. Sorry," Phil responded desperately.

My breathing slowly began to speed and the tears in my eyes overflowed and slowly ran down my slightly red cheeks.

"Dan, others need to use the toilet. Now please open up." Phil knew he could just walk straight in, but he wanted to give me a chance to open it myself, at my own pace.

I wanted to get out, but everything was too much and I didn't want anyone to see me cry.

I heard Phil sighing deeply before he slowly swung the door open. "Let's go back." He stretched out his hand, asking for me to grab it. I kept hiding my face, but of course Phil had already guessed I was crying. "Come on."

I got up, grabbed his hand, and quickly wiped the tears away.

"It's okay to be sad, Dan," Phil assured as he followed me back to our seats. "You don't need to hide it, okay? It's fine."

"Yeah, but it's not that…" I rested my head back on the seat.

"Then tell me what's wrong and I'll make it better."

"You can't," I whined as I squeezed my eyes together tightly.

"Do you want to read?" he asked.

"No."

"Should I read to you?"

I gave him a questioning gaze. "No."

"Do you want something to eat?"

"No, Phil. Stop asking!" I sobbed.

PHIL'S POV!

I felt powerless and desperate. I had tried every possible thing.

"I'm so tired," Dan whispered.

"You can sleep on my shoulder if you want," I offered.

Dan nodded slowly. But that was all he got the chance to do before his body went completely rigid and he fell forward on his seat, sending him straight to the floor, unconscious.

I didn't manage to react quickly enough to catch him before he hit the floor, head first, causing the guy next to me to jump in his seat.

It all happened so quickly. Before I got the chance to handle Dan, he started seizing violently.

"Shit!" I yelped, not paying attention to the passengers in the first few rows that were suddenly becoming way-too-curious.

I hurried out of my seat and down to the floor, doing my best to move Dan around and onto his side in order to keep his airway open so he wouldn't suffocate. It was really hard—I didn't have enough space.

"Move," I told the man who was sitting in the seat next to mine. He did as he was told without any questions. I quickly removed everything around us so he couldn't get hurt.

I pushed Dan's legs around, making him lay in a safe position. It made it possible for me to take a quick look at his forehead. A slight red and blue bruise was already forming on the thin surface.

"Fuck…" I muttered. This was the worst thing that could've happened. If he didn't stop seizing soon, I would have to take him to A&E. But we were flying above the sky, thousands of miles away from the nearest hospital.

He was shaking too much to even stay in the position I had put him in.

I turned around, grabbed my jacket from my seat, and threw it over Dan's hips. With cramps as bad as these, there was a chance he would wet himself. That wasn't something all the other passengers needed to see.

Dan's lips turned blue and he was really pale. Small drops of red saliva were falling from his mouth, which meant he had bit into something inside of his mouth.

But he kept shaking violently, like he had been struck by lightning. I didn't like this. It had kept going for way too long already.

"Everything alright, sir?" a lady from the staff asked. I moved my gaze from Dan to her instead, taking in my surroundings too. Everyone who could see us was staring at us, some of them with slight fear in their eyes. Of course they didn't know what this was about, and if you've never seen a seizure before it can be really scary.

"No," I snapped. "Everything is not alright. He needs medical attention." I made my voice harsh, trying to make my point clear. "You need to land the plane."

I looked at the time before I looked back over at Dan. Five minutes and he was still fitting. My heartbeat rose, making me breathe faster until my fingertips tingled. This was serious; we needed to get down, now.

Just as I moved closer to check his forehead again his shaking stopped and went completely limp. After a few seconds he took a deep breath, letting the rest of the blood run out of his mouth.

"Dan?" I asked. I put my hand on his shoulder, but I got no reaction whatsoever.

"We can't land the plane. I'm sorry, sir," she told me.

The adrenaline flushed away my common sense and I rushed to stand, right in front of her.

I stepped as close as I could and lowered my voice. "You're going to land this flight right now so I can take him to the hospital," I breathed heavily into her face, making her take a nervous step back. "Or else I don't know what I'm going to do." I had never been this angry. But it wasn't just anger—more fear and pure frustration. This seizure was really bad and he'd hit his head too.

"Calm down, sir. We're doing our best to help you, but…"

"Your best to help us?! Is that a joke?" I cried sarcastically. "He needs a hospital!" I pointed at Dan on the floor. He hadn't moved at all, but I could see his chest rising and falling slowly.

"We'll arrive in three hours. We'll make sure an ambulance will be ready for you," she assured me.

"I don't think you understand, lady," I said in the lowest voice I could make. I closed my eyes and stepped towards her again.

I didn't meant to make her scared, but I couldn't help it. Dan was more important than anything.

"He could die!" I raised my voice again. I opened my eyes and locked my gaze in hers. I heard mumbling behind me, but I couldn't care less. Maybe he wouldn't die because of this, but he could be in danger anyway and he needed to be taken to a hospital.

"Sit down and relax, sir."

"I'll sit down when you land the fucking plane," I said determinedly, crossing my arms across my chest.

"L-let me talk to the pilot," she stuttered, and walked away. I turned around, surprised, and glared at my involuntary audience. The whole plane was looking at me. I took a couple of deep breaths and rubbed my face before I sat back down on the floor, frustrated. I stared angrily at the old couple in the seats me and Dan were meant to have. They just stared back at me, sorry. But I couldn't use sorry right now.

"Dan?" I got back on my knees beside his head. The bruise had turned into a small bugle on his forehead. I was desperately trying to wake him up, to see if he was okay, but he wouldn't wake.

I lifted up the jacket slightly, sighing softly because of what I saw before I let go again, allowing the jacket to fall back down around him.

"Could you maybe get me some ice?" I asked the man who'd been sitting beside me.

"Sure," he answered and walked past us.

"I'm sorry for taking your seats. I couldn't see he was…" the old lady started.

"Yeah. I'm not in the mood for excuses. So please stay quiet," I answered shortly, without looking at her.

The man came back with a bag of ice and a towel.

"Thank you." I smiled politely. "You can sit back down again. I think he's done."

He nodded to me and sat down in his seat.

I placed the bag of ice on Dan's forehead, making him pull a face at the sudden touch. It was obviously hurting him enough to make him react.

I carefully shook Dan's shoulder with my free hand, begging for him to wake up, but he was out cold. I got more and more nervous as each minute went by. We had to get down; Dan needed medical attention. His lips were still light blue and his breathing was heavy and short.

"We can't land the plane before we get to London. I'm sorry, sir," the stewardess told me. I took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to control my temper. I knew it was difficult making an emergency landing. But this was an emergency.

"I don't know if this is hard for you to understand, ma'am. But he is really ill. Now please get us down," I begged.

"We can call a doctor you can talk to. That's be best we can do, I'm sorry," she tried.

"Fine," I answered, my voice short and harsh. There was no way they would land. "Give me the phone." I stretched out my arm.

The woman dialled the number and quickly told the doctor what the situation was before she handed me the phone.

"Yes hello, this is Phil," I explained to the person in the other end. I continued telling about what had happened.

"Is he still seizing?" the doctor asked.

"No. He's completely still," I answered nervously, looking Dan over. He wasn't moving a muscle.

"Is his pulse fast or slow?"

I stuck two fingers to his neck. Compared to his steady breathing, it was really fast. "Fast," I answered as I tried to shake him one more time. Still no reaction.

The doctor kept asking different things and I did my best to answer. I told him about the medication Dan was taking and the history of his epilepsy.

But we could only wait for him to wake up.

After half an hour, his breathing changed. "He's moving." I held the phone between my shoulder and my ear while I removed the ice I'd been holding on his forehead.

"Dan?" I asked quietly, nudging his shoulder a bit.

DAN'S POV!

I don't think I had been more confused in my life. I didn't have enough strength to open my eyes, but from what I could feel and hear, I wasn't at home.

The floor was hard and cold and it didn't smell familiar. Unknown voices were talking, and I could feel people walking around.

Phil was talking to someone, but I couldn't tell if it was on the phone or someone was there with him.

"Phil?" I tried asking, struggling to form words.

I tried to move, but my muscles wouldn't cooperate. A burning pain struck my forehead and went through my entire body, making me stop my movements.

"Dan?" I heard him ask while he carefully touched my shoulder.

"Phil…" I tried again, with more power this time. "What happened?" A metallic taste filled my mouth as I tried to talk, but I was so confused.

"You okay?" he quietly asked and gently started rubbing his hand up and down my arm.

"No…" I whined and tried to move again still without much luck. "It hurts," I complained, pressing my already closed eyes harder together.

"Where?"

"E-everywhere!" I sobbed. My back was completely tense and it was hard getting my muscles to cooperate, nearly impossible. I just wanted to go home from wherever I was and sleep. Sleep in Phil's arms until he made me feel better. Cuddle on the couch and have as many seizures as I needed to without strangers there to question everything. Be safe from the public eye. At home, I didn't need to worry. Phil would keep me safe. But I didn't know where I was or what had happened. My best guess was a seizure from the bloody taste in my mouth. I was so disorientated and scared.

"Look at me, Dan," Phil commanded gently.

I slowly opened my eyes; the light hurt but I kept looking. My gaze met Phil's knees and I blinked a couple of times, confused. We were on a plane.

"W-what h-happened?" I muttered.

"You had a seizure." He answered short as he tried to move my legs a bit.

I closed my eyes back together as I felt them tearing up. I was tired, exhausted, confused, and everything was hurting—my head was pounding really badly. It was all too much.

"Take me home, Phil," I begged. "P-please."

He didn't answer me, just kept talking to the unknown person I could neither see nor hear.

"Can you sit up?" Phil then asked me. Just the thought was enough to make me cry properly. "Let me help you," he offered. I opened my eyes again and watched him as he placed the phone down on the floor. "Come on."

Being as careful as he could Phil pulled me from the floor and made me sit against the wall. I looked around, disorientated, until my eyes fell on Phil's jacket around my hips. As I got to sitting, I could feel why I had it on.

"No…" I breathed, sad and exhausted. Phil locked his gaze with mine, sighed caringly, and made sure the jacket was covering me fully.

"It's okay, Dan," he whispered for only me to hear. "No one saw, I promise."

I shook my head in response, regretting it instantly as it started pounding even worse and made me really dizzy. I unsteadily moved my hand to my head, but Phil grabbed my wrist before I got there.

"Don't touch it," he said as he pulled my hand away. I confusingly looked up at him. "You hit your head when you fell, Dan. That's why it's hurting, okay?" he explained and made sure I understood.

"I-I need to lay down," I stuttered. The headache was making me feel really dizzy. "I don't feel so good, Phil," I muttered, breathing heavily.

Phil grabbed underneath my chin and slowly turned my head from side to side to get a better look. His gaze travelled across my forehead and landed on my eyes. He sighed softly and then let go.

"Can he lay down?" Phil asked into the phone he had picked up from the floor. "No, I can't see any changes…" he told the person on the other end as he looked me over.

"Do you feel nauseous?" Phil quietly asked me. I nodded slowly in response. It wasn't bad, but it was there and it was only getting worse.

Phil moved the phone away and helped me lay back down on the floor. He made a blanket into a pillow and pushed it under my head.

"I-I'm scared…" I sobbed without really crying.

"It's okay," Phil assured me. He placed the bag of ice back on my forehead, making me flinch a little. "Nothing will happen. Everything is fine…" Phil kept talking low in an attempt to calm me down, he always did that.

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. Why couldn't we just be home?

"Don't sleep, Dan. You have to stay awake," Phil told me.

I didn't listen; I was too tired and confused. It was too overwhelming to stay awake. I just couldn't.

"Dan," he said, a little louder this time while he shook me a little. But it was impossible.

I felt myself being moved. I couldn't tell in which direction, most likely up. I stayed numb, not daring to open my eyes in case it wasn't real.

I was scared. Who was touching me?

"Phil?" I asked, confused, not sure if anyone heard.

The earth started moving while someone wrapped something around my head. It made the air clearer and I started to relax a little. The spinning feeling in my head slowly faded away.

I heard Phil talking. Was he still talking on the phone? He mentioned my epilepsy and something about my medication. After a while the pieces in my head started to fit together.

Still very confused, I slowly opened my eyes. The ceiling was passing by above. I blinked up at it a few times until everything stopped moving.

"Hey." Phil smiled and leaned over me. "We're driving you to the hospital, Dan. Everything is fine, don't worry."

I closed my eyes back together. I didn't want to go to the hospital. I just wanted to go home.

"Do I have to?" I whimpered as we started moving again.

"Yes. I'm sorry. Just to check if everything is okay. You fell and hit your head," he explained.

I felt okay, except that my muscles were really sore and I was unbelievably tired. The pounding feeling in my head was still there, but it wasn't that bad. I didn't need to go to the hospital.

"Just take me home, Phil, please…" I begged.

"No," he answered shortly. The medics pushed me into the ambulance outside of the airport. "I can't drive with you, Dan. I have to get our luggage from the plane. But I'll come to the hospital as fast as I can, okay?"

It was the first time since I moved in with Phil that he couldn't go to the hospital with me. I didn't like it. He normally did all the talking and explaining to the doctors. I would have to stay in there all alone until he got back.

"Okay?" he asked me again. I nodded, unsure. I wanted him to come with me, but we had to get our luggage so I understood.

"Aren't you tired?" I asked. Phil held the door open for me to walk in.

"Don't think about me." He smiled caringly. He'd had to stay at the hospital all night because it was so late when we landed in London. I'd slept most of the night, but Phil had to stay in the uncomfortable chairs.

"I'm sorry," I muttered as I kicked off my shoes.

"You can't be sorry for having a seizure, Dan. You know that. It's not something you can control. But if you can, then please choose a better place next time."

I bowed my head and swallowed hard. Phil had told me what had happened on the plane and how they couldn't land.

"Hey." He lifted up my chin. "I'm joking. I just got so worried, okay? You seized for so long and…" He trailed off, giving the bulge on my forehead a quick glance.

"Yeah…" I muttered. "I can feel that." I turned my head from side to side. All my muscles were really sore and it hurt just moving slightly.

"I can give you a massage if you want," he offered, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

I nodded thankfully and sighed.

"Go get changed. I'll wait for you in the lounge. We can unpack later," he said. I nodded again and unsteadily started walking up the stairs and towards our room to find some old sweatpants and a t-shirt.

I walked through the hall with heavy steps. This was not how I thought our week would end, spending a whole night in the hospital. Sure it wasn't the first time I'd had to spend a whole night in the hospital, but after an 8 hour flight and having a major seizure, it was enough to drain all my energy.

I slowly stepped into the lounge. Phil was sat leaning back against the sofa cushions. I walked around the couch, but only to find him fast asleep. He rarely took naps when I was around, so he must have been really tired.

I felt so sorry for him. It was always him who had to deal with me. He made sure I took my medication, he made sure I was okay when I had a seizure, and he made sure I went to the hospital when needed. He even gave me massages when everything was hurting. I never did anything.

I glanced at the clock. It was 8 am, which meant I was supposed to take my medication soon. I could do that without Phil reminding me.

I could make him breakfast too, but we had been away for a week so we had nothing. Phil would get mad at me if I left without telling him. That wasn't fair.

I searched through the cupboards in hope that I would find something useful. The only thing we had was tea. I guessed that was better than nothing.

I found two mugs and set the kettle to boil some water.

After it was done, I filled the cups and picked one up. With one involuntary movement, I pulled the mug from the table, sending it straight to the floor where it smashed. I shook my head when I realized what I had done. I knew I should have used the plastic mugs instead. It wouldn't have prevented the tea from getting everywhere, but it would have saved a mug.

"F-fuck," I groaned quietly, bent down, and began to pick up the pieces.

"Dan?" I heard Phil ask. He'd obviously been woken up by the noises.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he stepped into the kitchen while tiredly rubbing his eyes. This wasn't supposed to be happening like this. I wanted to do something for Phil for once and bring him tea, not smash the mug and wake him up from the sleep he definitely needed.

"Tea…" I mumbled and threw some of the broken pieces into the bin.

Phil bent down too and started helping me.

"No. Just go back into the lounge, Phil. I made the mess, I'll clean it."

"I'll help you."

"You don't have to. You always do. I can do it."

"Dan. It's fine." He smiled. "I don't mind helping you."

"It was even your favourite mug…" I murmured while I mopped the floor with a cloth. "I'm sorry."

"I can get a new one." He smiled widely as he both got to stand. "Don't worry."

I looked Phil in the eyes. They were really red—he looked so tired.

"Come here." He opened his arm. I stepped a little closer and wrapped my arms around his waist. Phil held me close and I closed my eyes into the touch. I'd waited hours for a hug like this. A long heartwarming, caring hug. They always made me forget everything. All the worries and stress about my videos, my condition, the fans… Everything got washed away and I always wished we could stay like this forever.

I clung onto his shirt and buried my head in his shoulder the best I could without making my forehead touch. Phil let his hands travel up and down my back. My tense body started to melt into his and I held him a little closer, if that even was possible.

Without really noticing, I felt a few tears leave my eyes and spill into Phil's shirt.

Phil slowly released me and I hurriedly wiped the tears away.

"Something wrong?" he quietly asked. He wrinkled his forehead slightly as he grabbed my wrist to stop my actions.

I shook my head while smiling widely. "No. I just love you so much," I sniffed while giggling quietly. Phil made me feel happy—made me feel loved. He made life worth living, even though things could get too much for me sometimes. And I couldn't describe my love towards him.

Phil let go of my hand, making it possible for him to wipe my tears away. I just kept smiling while his soft hand brushed against my cheek

He whispered back in a shaky voice, "I love you too."

thend