Disclaimer: I do not own Dan or Phil (obviously) and do not imply Phan is canon.

Phil POV

For some unknown reason I woke up at 6am... It wasn't until I heard the groan of pain through the wall I realised why exactly. Dan hadn't been feeling one hundred percent since the radio show on Sunday but as far as we were both aware it was simply just a stomach bug or the worst case scenario food poisoning from the leftover pizza he had eaten the previous day. This groan though sounded much worse than the stomach pain he had when I left him sitting on Tumblr to go to bed.

Getting out of bed and pulling a t-shirt on over my naked chest I made my way to Dan's room. Knocking on his door and calling out to him to warn him of the incoming intruder I opened the door into his bedroom which was bathed in the light of the rising sun. There curled up on himself – as much as a man of his height can – in the centre of his bed clad only in a pair of boxers lay Dan. Fever was apparent from the way his fringe stuck to his forehead and a tell tale grimace of pain plastered onto his face showing me just how much pain he was in. As I moved further into his room the unmistakeable stench of vomit hit my nose and a bowl he had more than likely moved from the kitchen came into view. It was this little detail that made me realise just how ill he actually was. This was Dan who preferred to more or less sleep on the floor of our bathroom any time he couldn't keep the contents of his stomach down, lying in bed with a bowl he had filled almost half way with vomit.

'Phil, I don't feel so great' he practically whimpered.

'You look like death caught a fever buddy'

'I felt fine earlier though. It was the first time in three days I wasn't in any pain but now... now it's worse than it was before'

'Wait... you've been in pain since Sunday?'

'Yes, my lower right stomach but other than that I felt fine... I didn't want to worry anyone so it was easier not to say anything'

'Right... and now it's worse than before'

'So much. My whole stomach burns, I think I've got a pretty high fever and despite not eating in close to twenty four hours I keep wanting to throw up'

'Ok... You're not getting out of this; we're going to A&E it sounds like something my brother had when we were younger and if it is it has to be dealt with as soon as possible. I'll take the bowl and clean it out – which I will be seeking revenge for when you are better. Are you able to stand and put a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms or something on?'

'Think so' was heard within a groan of pain as he moved out of the ball he had curled himself into and off his bed.

Leaving the room to clean the bowl he had been using I heard further groans and a few curses as he what I assumed got dressed so I could take him to the hospital. Emptying the contents from the bowl into the toilet and rising it out with water and bleach to disinfect - it just in-case it was needed for our journey – before calling a taxi and getting dressed myself. Picking up my wallet and phone I headed back through to Dan's room to see him dressed but bent over double struggling to put shoes on.

'You needing some help there' I ask him

'Please my stomach kills me every time I bend over' he winced.

Just as I finished helping him put his shoes on there was a tell tale honk of the taxi signalling its arrival. Grabbing Dan's wallet and phone and placing them in my pockets along with my own I followed Dan out of his room, helped him down the first flight of stairs as it pained him to walk, picked up a set of house keys and the bowl Dan had been using earlier and headed down the final two sets of stairs with Dan firmly attached to my shoulder. Making sure Dan was in the taxi with the bowl before locking the front door and sitting beside my poorly friend and instructing the driver to the closest hospital less than a mile away from our flat, I sat back and observed the ever growing grimace of pain on Dan's face – the arrival at the hospital couldn't come sooner.

After what seemed to be the longest ten minutes ever we finally arrived at the A&E department. Dan had spent the whole journey gagging unable to bring anything up and was feeling worse than when we had left the flat. Paying the driver and helping Dan both out the taxi and into the hospital I couldn't shake that sinking feeling that he was feeling worse than he was letting on. For 7am on a Thursday morning the A&E department was surprisingly busy but as we signed in with the nurses at reception after giving all the information that was needed we were told given Dan's symptoms it wouldn't be long before he was called back.

Dan POV

I couldn't believe how poorly I was feeling, my stomach ached with every movement, the t-shirt I put on less than an hour ago clung to my skin drenched in sweat and despite feeling nauseous there was nothing left in my stomach to bring up. We had been sitting in the waiting room for just over ten minutes when a nurse called me back to have my vitals taken before I could see a doctor. As I walked out of the waiting room supported by Phil still clutching the bowl we had brought from the house, I could hear grumbles from other patients who couldn't believe I was being seen before them but also sympathy from others who seemed to understand how ill I felt. We were lead behind some curtains where I was asked to change into a gown which turned out to be a lot harder than anticipated due to the fact the smallest movement caused pain. Once I was sorted and curled up in the only position it didn't hurt, the nurse reappeared to take my vitals, place an IV line to replace lost fluid and take bloods for testing. My symptoms were taken again and we were asked to wait for the doctor who would be in soon. From the position I was lying in I could see the look of worry on Phil's face.

'Phil' I called out to him 'It's going to be alright. It'll just be an infection or something, they'll give me antibiotics and we'll be able to go home'.

'Dan, even you know it's something more than a slight infection. You're in too much pain for it to be that'

The room fell silent again with the only noise being our breathing until a doctor walked through the curtains holding a chart closely followed a nurse we hadn't seen yet.

'Hello Mr Howell, I've looked over your symptoms, pain levels and had your blood results back which indicate an infection. We have an idea what may be wrong but before we make treatment decisions there is a couple of tests I would like to try out. First I want to have a feel of your tummy as that's where the pain is, if you don't mind lying on your back'

Another stabbing pain shot through my stomach as I rolled from my side onto my back this time it came out as more of a scream than a groan shocking both Phil and the doctor. As soon as I was on my back and the bed had been lowered so I was flat the doctor who had donned a pair of gloves began to press firmly but carefully on my already aching stomach. Every time moved his hands I wanted to scream a little more but watching his face even from the first touch I knew it was more than just an infection. The final straw though was reached when he slowly but surely pressed on the right side of my stomach. If the pressure of him pressing down wasn't painful enough it was coupled with what felt like something tearing through my intestines as soon as his hand was released leading to my right leg shooting up as a reflex action and more or less knocking the glasses off the doctors face. I could hear a noise similar to what I imagine a dying animal would sound like standing out from the rest of the noise from a busy A&E and felt sorry for the person who was making it until moments later it clicked that I was the one making the noise. Within seconds of my reaction Phil was standing at the side of the hospital bed running his hands through my sweaty hair.

'Breathe slowly Dan, just breath slowly. It will all be ok'

In all honesty in that moment I hoped he was right my body no longer felt human with pain and nausea seemingly haven taken its place.

'Right Mr Howell, I suspect you have appendicitis that has unfortunately led to a rupture. As CT is backed up and you are beginning to show signs of acute peritonitis I want to conduct an ultrasound – it will unfortunately cause more pain but as soon as we have a confirmed diagnosis we can administer pain medication. If the final diagnosis is what we suspect we will start antibiotics through your IV immediately, request a surgical consult and hopefully have you in surgery by mid-morning. If not we'll go from there' explain the doctor.

It took a while for my brain to compute what the doctor had just informed me – suspected appendicitis that has probably led to acute peritonitis even I with the least medical knowledge known to man knew that that was good in fact it was very bad. I was knocked from my daydream like state by an extremely cold gel being applied to my fever ridden stomach before the pressure of a transducer moving around as the doctor went about looking for the source of my pain. Each movement of the transducer sent another wave of pain through my stomach and another groan of pain out of my mouth. I averted my eyes from watching the doctor's face which was looking ever more concerned to Phil's as he stood by my bedside hand still running through my hobbit hair. Watching Phil has never failed to calm me whether it was as he slept or as he sat on the sofa reading replies from fans on twitter there was just something as soppy as it sounds I am extremely lucky to have him. I had somehow forgotten the pain and was drifting off to sleep when I was rudely shaken awake by Phil. I was told that yes I did in fact have appendicitis with acute peritonitis and due to the build up of fluid in my belly surgery was a priority which was where I was headed within hopefully the next hour. Time seemed to speed up as soon as a diagnosis was made and before I knew it pain medication had been administered; cocktails of antibiotics were slowly dripping into my body; a pulse oximeter, blood pressure cuff and an ECG machine were attached to me and both a general surgeon and anaesthetist were on their way to see me. Forms were signed; surgery was explained - which much to my disappointment may have led to what the surgeon referred to as a lower midline incision or as I took it a massive scar below my belly button to an area that only a certain boyfriend was allowed access to. I think that scared me more than the fact I had a serious infection threatening to invade my blood stream and potentially kill me. The other thing that bothered me was the estimated length of stay in hospital which was currently sitting at a week but could potentially be up to two weeks if not even longer. My fans would be asking where I was and there was a radio show to run I could not possibly miss that. Voicing my thoughts to Phil he promised that he would look after everything and my only worry was to get better. Not long after that he was taken away from me as I was transported to the operating theatre. I don't remember much about the journey other than the lights periodically flashing past and the uneventful lift ride. It seemed that no time at all had passed before the gurney stopped and various different hands were lifting the sheet underneath me and transferring me onto a table. A mask providing pure oxygen was placed over my face, a new IV line stared and a milk white drug was pushed into my hand before darkness.