Dan loved his job. He loved being able to help so many people at once, he loved being in such a closely knit team of workers. And, most importantly, he loved the feeling that he was doing something good for the world. Or at least he hoped he was.
Dan was a midwife. There really was no other job for him (he hadn't tried any other jobs and he didn't really have the right qualifications so that was almost completely true, unless he went back to university again which was a no from him). He didn't mind the thirteen hour shifts, the demanding patients or the fact that he always had to work on his birthday.
That's why he was stood in the LGI at seven in the morning on a Saturday. "Hello, Sheila!" He greeted the tired looking older, blonde woman.
She looked up from her paperwork and rolled her eyes at him, grunting quietly and then dropping her gaze again. Oh, who was he kidding? Dan hated work. He hated the long shifts, the overly demanding patients, how he always had to work on his birthday. And he really hated the fact that everyone hated him.
Dan was the newbie and everyone knew it. He was, essentially, their punch bag. If anyone wanted to swap shifts, Dan had to do it. If anyone had any paperwork, Dan had to do it. Oh, the joys of adulthood. Why did he sign up for this again? There was always his conscience telling him to suck it and just do his bloody job, but the rest of his consciousness was a bitch and whining seemed to be the only thing it was good at.
Handover went smoothly, after the original glitch of Sheila the receptionist who was a bitch to everyone (apparently), and by half seven he was sat in the shared office, a mug of lukewarm coffee in his hand. He tried to remember the last time the kettle had got anywhere near to boiling, or even hotter than slightly warm, which after a moment of musing seemed impossible to recollect. Hot water was a luxury the NHS obviously couldn't afford.
A buzzer rang and he sighed, getting up. Dan made his way over to a bed in the corner of the ward. On it, sat a sour faced woman with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. As Dan approached her, her head snapped to the side, so she was facing him.
"Finally." She said. "I buzzed ages ago. What took you?"
Dan had to blink a few times to gather that she was indeed talking to him and then swallow carefully to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Stay calm, he thought in a surprisingly stable voice. God bless the conscience. "Sorry, Miss. I was in the office. It's the other side of the ward."
The woman was silent for a minute and Dan almost thought that he had gotten away with it, until she spoke again. "Well, that never affected Michelle. Where is she anyway?" She said, craning her neck like a hawk and gyrating her head around with almost mechanical precision. He sighed internally and, again, had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
He tried to keep the venom from his words when he replied: "Michelle isn't on duty today. She's finished her shifts for the week. I'm going to take over." And had to use every ounce of self control to stop himself from ripping the greasy hair from her head.
"You?" She sneered and Dan felt his blood boil, if possible, more than before. "I would rather not. I don't want someone who can't even walk across a ward without complaining taking care of me and my baby." Dan couldn't help but think about how unjust she was being, but nevertheless tried to bite his tongue and not flounce back to the office. Cold coffee was better than making his cheek bleed from the strain of not completely losing it.
"Well, Miss, Michelle says that you are ready to be discharged. I have some paperwork to complete, then you may go."
"Oh, thank God, I've been rotting in this place for far too long." She muttered.
Dan paused for a moment, trying to calm himself down enough so that he could speak without committing homicide. "Well, Miss. I have other women to look after, if you are done with this matter, I have to go help them." He said curtly, turning on his heel and coughing. He may have hidden "stupid bitch face fucking slut" under his breath, but that was beside the point. He's helped her, right?
For the next few hours, Dan ran errands, filled in paperwork, administered painkillers and taught ignorant mothers that it was normal for a baby to cry. He found it unbelievable that they didn't understand that that's what babies did. Babies cried, why couldn't they grasp that? Every few minutes another new mother would ask why their baby was crying and Dan would give the (same every time) answer: "because it's a baby". Honestly, Dan wondered how many brain cells labour killed (none, of course he knew, he was a fucking midwife of course he knew his shit), because these women seemed to have none.
Another buzzer rang, which prompted another sigh from Dan. He stood and went to find the woman who had buzzed.
It was bed nine, which belonged to a certain Kate Hudson. He walked there quickly, just to avoid any future disagreements.
She was laid on her bed, the picture of ease, a full head of long, blonde hair resting on her arms and her legs outstretched comfortably. She was talking animatedly to a tall guy who Dan could only see the back of the head of, but assumed was the father.
"Excuse me, but you buzzed." He said, interrupting their conversation.
"Yeah, did actually! Just wondered, when is lunch? I've been told that I've missed it, I'm a heavy sleeper, you feel, and I'm starving! Haven't eaten since he decided to pop out." She said, gesturing to the cot at the foot of her bed.
Dan chuckled quietly, but the noise stuck in his throat when the man turned round.
The man was tall, with defined, pale cheekbones and a slightly crooked nose. He had plump lips that were impossibly pink and his whole face was unproportioned and slightly mismatched. Despite this, he was beautiful. Dan was drawn to him; fascinated by the warmth he found in his soft and yet sharp features. And then his eyes. Dan found himself staring at the swirling pools of azure; they seemed so alive, like gateways to his soul.
Dan blinked a few times to snap himself out of his daydream. "About quarter past twelve, is lunch." He said after a moment of hesitation, a blush starting to creep up his neck. He looked at his fob watch. "Which means you have about two hours to kill."
She sighed. "Ah, well, I'm going to have to send Phil off to get some food. Is there anywhere you can get acceptable food from in this place?"
Dan paused for a second before replying, his voice, annoyingly higher than usual and cheeks flushed. "There's a Costa downstairs, I think. There's also a food court on the ground floor, but that's pretty poor."
The man stood up and Dan noticed he was smaller than him. "Thanks, mate, I'll look for them." Phil said to Dan and his mouth watered and he was sure as hell that his stomach just backflipped away. He turned to Kate. "See you, Kate. Take care." His voice was silky and he definitely came from somewhere across the Pennines. Dan watched him walk out of sight, transfixed, before turning his attention back to Kate.
He changed his mind. He loved work.
Dan's day had been stressful at best. There had simply just been too many women on the ward and not enough midwives. It seemed like every two seconds another woman had another problem that he had to solve.
At least he'd had something nice to look at. The ivory haired man was a welcomed sight to Dan's tired eyes. He'd been staring all day; there was just something about the man that captivated him so much, cliché as it was. Dan had learnt that he was called Phil, but not much more. But, fortunately for him, Kate had to stay in the hospital for a few more days, which left Dan with plenty of time to find out more.
Handover had dragged, like it usually did, and he had to do some extra paperwork, but, by half nine, an hour after his shift had officially ended, he left the ward.
In his pocket, his phone vibrated. He jumped, unused to getting messages at all. His social life had dried up because of long hours at work, frequent night shifts and, generally, how he was like a menopausal woman when he was tired. He pulled the phone out, expecting to see a message from his network provider, but was pleasantly surprised. It was from Tom, his long term friend, who he had not seen in quite a long time. Not surprising considering how relentlessly he had been working as of late.
Hey, Dan. You coming to TD&D? Chris is. It's going to be a laugh.
Dan grinned. After a hard shift that was exactly what he needed and it was a Saturday night. Have some fun, he told himself, but was interrupted by a yawn which almost split his face almost in half. Fucking typical.
He texted Tom back, telling him he would meet him there and slipped the phone back into his pocket. He debated with himself whether he should go home and get changed or just go straight out. In the end, he decided just to go, purely because he was too lazy to go all the way home and then go out again. With a quick glance down at his outfit he decided that he was good to go. The stain on his jeans was hardly visible, anyway.
The Duck And Drake was a small pub in the centre of Leeds. It had been a lucky find by Tom and had soon become a favourite to the trio. It was an old-fashioned style pub, with live bands and a homely sort of feel. Dan, Chris and Tom had become regulars and had become quite friendly with Mark, the manager. Okay, okay, it might have a bit of reputation for being rough and maybe there was a few too many fights, but it was home and a pretty damn nice place for cheap beer.
When Dan arrived there, both Chris and Tom were already there, sat in their usual booth. When they spotted Dan, they beckoned him over, which for a second felt odd. It was odd feeling so wanted for a change, he decided was the reason, and then he relished in the feeling of friendship and wondered why he didn't see his friends more.
"Dan!" Tom shouted once he was in earshot. "It's been too long, mate. Is work that bad, eh?"
Dan laughed. Work was that bad and it had definitely been far too long. "You have no idea." He said to Tom before Chris wrapped him in one of his famous bear hugs. "Chris! How have you been?"
"I've been good, mate. Kelly's about to pop, you'll be seeing her soon." He said, gesturing around his belly and blowing his cheeks out.
"Really? What baby is this? Forty?" Dan said, throwing Tom a mischievous smirk and chuckling.
Tom caught on quickly. "Yeah, Chris. What percentage of the world's population do you have in your living room now?"
"Oh, piss off." He said, giving them both a mock punch on the arm, then getting up, holding both his and Tom's empty glasses in his hands. "Next rounds on me, by the way. Is it the usual, Dan?"
Dan watched him walk away then turned back to Tom. He realised he missed this, really missed this. He missed being able to spend time with his mates without having to worry about work. Dan wasn't sure how much longer he could cope with the stress of work building up behind his eyelids, pressure building on his shoulders and a potential mental breakdown looming somewhere in the horizon. It was a very welcomed break, like a post-sex massage but without the sex. God, it had been a long time. What surprised him the most, though, was that he was having fun. For Dan that was quite unusual, in itself. His life usually revolved around two things; work and sleep, and occasionally food managed to get into the equation. To actually be able to go out and have fun... Well, Dan wasn't used to that.
"What is Chris doing? He's been getting those drinks forever." Tom asked. It was true, Chris had been a good fifteen minutes indeed and, from what Dom could see, there wasn't much of a queue at the bar.
"I don't know, but he's taking the piss. Let's go find him, yeah?" Dan said, standing up and craning his neck, trying in vain to locate Chris. "He's so fucking tall, you'd think it wouldn't be hard to find him, but obviously not." Dom muttered under his breath.
He heard Tom snicker beside him. "Wow, Dan. Chill, mate." Dan just rolled his eyes and Tom snickered again and elbowed him in the ribs. "There he is!" He shouted suddenly, pointing across the pub and making Dan and most of the people in the surrounding booths jump.
Chris made his way to the table quickly, a slightly sheepish expression on his face that reminded Dan of the face Chris' kids would pull when he told them off. He apologised as he sat down and pushed two pints towards them. A few remarks were passed across the table about his prolonged absence, but they soon settled into comfortable conversation.
Across the room from their booth, a man was plugging a guitar into an amp. Dan wasn't especially interested, there was often live music played here and generally it was just background noise.
And then the band started to play.
Dan stopped listening to Chris. He was entranced, the music seemed to have the abilities to get into the smallest crevices of his brain. The man's voice was beautiful, hypnotising and Dan found that he simply couldn't stop listening. The guitar solo started, a haunting piece, that had so much emotion and feeling in, that it said almost as much as the lyrics. The song ended on the most chillingly perfect falsetto that gave Dan goose bumps. The room went silent for a few seconds, then erupted into thunderous applause.
Dan looked across at Chris and Tom, who both had matching expressions of awe, before looking to the stage.
And with a startled gap his eyes met with Phil's.
Dan felt his jaw drop and his eyes widen. It definitely was him, it definitely was the man that he had spent all day staring at.
"Thanks." Phil murmured into the microphone. Dan frowned. He sounded so shy and innocent, it suddenly seemed very unlikely that he had just sang that song with such energy, passion. In fact, it seemed unlikely that he was even on stage in the first place. "We're, um, going to play a few more songs. This one's called Sunburn, thanks."
Dan watched his fingers fly across the keys of the battered upright piano, in absolute awe; he had never seen anyone play so fluidly, with so much emotion. He was mesmerised, totally unable to keep his eyes of the smaller man.
The band played a few more songs and ended to a wall of sound from the audience. "Wow." Chris muttered. The three of them exchanged stunned glances, totally dumbfounded.
"If they play here every night, I'd live here." Tom said.
And he'd got that one right.
"Do you have a light?" The voice came from behind him, startling him from his quiet smoke break. For a second he was too shocked to move but after a prolonged silence on his part he fumbled in his pockets and produced a flip lighter from his pocket and handed it over to the stranger.
His throat caught when their hands caught and he blushed when his eyes met impossibly blue ones. It was almost too much, being so close to Phil, the man he was almost completely infatuated with despite only having known him for less that twelve hours.
"You shouldn't smoke, you know." Phil said, lighting his own cigarette and taking a long, drawn out puff.
Dan chuckled dryly. "Neither should you." And Phil shrugs and giggles and it's weird that someone so innocent would be doing something so not. "I'm Dan."
"I know." Phil's response was almost too quick, cracks in his cool confidence beginning to wear off. It was in-feasibly interesting, to Dan, to watch Phil's confidence calm after his time on stage, to watch as he became the normal, everyday Phil that most knew. "Crap, no, I don't mean that I know, like because I know, erm, I mean you're Kate's midwife right?" He pauses and Dan opened his mouth to reply before Phil interrupted. "You are, I know you are. I just- I'm sorry."
Dan just smiled and took another drag. "It's okay, Phil." He accenuates the letters in Phil's name, dragging out the word with an almost mocking tone that was also dreadfully alluring and Dan knew. he was flirting with Phil, flirting and he didn't care.
With a giggle, Phil blushed and cast his eyes through his fringe at Dan, shy blue through thick black.
"Anyway, Kate's doing great. I'd say she's got a day and a night and then you're free to go." Dan started and, at that, Phil opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the blaring of tinny dance music through the now open doors. They both looked towards an expectant Tom, who with the uttermost confidence that only a drunk man would have, announced that he was buying the next round and that they were going to get pissed and Phil was free to join them.
They both happily agreed and with one last lazy drag, they stubbed out their cigarettes and pushed their way inside.
Phil never did say what he was going to.
Sunday morning came with the piercing bleeping of an alarm clock at a time far too early to be conceivable.
Dan rolled over in bed, dropping his arm onto the clock to stop off the incessant alarm and then laid back. Early morning sun was beginning to filter through the slits of his blinds and somewhere outside the birds were chirping. Far too early for this, he thought with an exasperated sigh and pulled the blankets over his face. He was fully planning on falling back to sleep, but the morning seemed to be against him and all traces of sleep had been removed from his brain.
His mouth was dry and it tasted like he'd swallowed an ashtray and mini bar in one and his head felt foggy and there was a migraine pushing at the back of his eyes. It was a hangover that, quite frankly, he wasn't sure if he was ready to face.
Not like it was his choice, anyway.
He peeled the duvet from himself and glanced at the clock (6:58). His eyes scanned his room, eyebrows furrowed as he took in the scattered clothes. It wasn't like it was anyone else's clothes, but the sight struck him as odd because they seemed to have formed a perfect line to the foot of the bed. Almost as if someone had been peeling them off. His eyes honed in on the glass of water on his stand, two paracetamols lying alongside it (odd, drunk Dan would never be that caring) and the note.
hey dan went to visit kate, call me later, i put my number in your phone last night,
phil xxx
Fuck.
The next Monday night was Dan's first day back after his lazy and quite frankly terrifying Sunday. It was the first of four night shifts, that would, undoubtedly, leave him knackered. He was already tired, despite the fact that he had tried to sleep earlier that day. The neighbours seemingly had the telepathic ability to know when he was about to sleep and start drilling. Screw them. Literally.
To put the icing on the cake, he had to shower in the dark. It was a pretty complicated story, actually. He had got up and headed to the bathroom, pulled the chord that would switch on the light, but nothing happened. He tried again, twice, three times, four times, then finally decided that the light was, in fact, not working. Normally, he would have just replaced the bulb, but he knew for sure that there was absolutely no spare bulbs anywhere in the house. So, there it was, that's why he showered in the dark. It had only occurred to him as he was driving to work that he could have just used the bulb from the spare room. He had spent the rest of the journey cursing.
And then the finest part, the plump, juicy cherry on top was the fact that Phil would be on the ward, still. Fucking Phil.
Stood in the rapidly filling office, he was confronted by a woman's laughter that was so contagious he couldn't help but chuckle along, despite the shit he's managed to bury himself in. She stepped into the office, grinning and everyone greeted her with: "welcome back, Helen!". All except for Dan, that was, who, being new to the job, had absolutely no idea who she was. She slowly greeted everyone in the room, each of them welcoming her back to the ward and her thanking them warmly. When she reached Dan, she smiled at him, and offered her hand. Dan shook it eagerly.
"Hey, I'm Helen." She said softly. "And you would be?"
"Dan." He replied, using their meeting as a chance to observe her.
She was a good half a foot smaller than himself, in her late thirties, maybe early forties. Her hair was dyed purple and tied up into a messy bun, but a few strands had come untied and fell down her forehead. She had large kindly, brown eyes with smile lines at either side and somehow seemed like they were leading their own conversation. She seemed, to Dan, like someone who was perfect to have as a friend.
"Hey, Dan. You new here?" She asked and Dan nodded. "They giving you a hard time?" She glanced over to two other midwives who were too busy chattering to notice the sudden attention on them.
Dan shrugged. "Kinda." He said simply and Helen's eyes softened in understanding.
"I know how you feel, other than you, I'm the newest here." Dan frowned. This bubbly and popular woman had been the previous newbie? "I know, weird, huh? You can hardly tell, now." Dom nodded. "Trust me, it'll get better, I'm here permanently, so, if you need help, I'm here."
Dom nodded yet again, and thanked her, then she walked to the two conversing midwives. Dom watched her for a few moments, in awe of her easy going and confident personality, before going back to work.
A few hours down the line saw Dom walking back along the ward, eyes tired and half lidded. The sight of a very familiar head of black hair shocked him from his sleepy state. His feet paused on the plastic tiled floor, the whirring in his brain slowing. He stared as the slim man turned to wave at Kate. There was a moment, maybe a split second long, when their eyes met, just a fleeting glance, but a sight that would be forever engraved in Dan's mind. It was that glance, a meeting of eyes that made Dan's stomach drop.
Phil turned and walked away, leaving a starstruck Dan behind. What Dan didn't see was his flushed cheeks, slightly dilated pupils, but, Helen, on the other hand, did.
As she passed Dan, in a small whisper that even he had to strain to hear, she said: "One thing: never jump to conclusions."
If Dan had wanted to question this, he couldn't, and he sighed as he made his way to bay nine where the buzzing was coming from.
hey hey hey.
I hope you're all okay with AU and hospitals, yeah? Midwifery trousers are tight, are you sold yet? Anyway, this was originally a Muse fic (Dominic Howard/Matthew Bellamy) that I've reworked for Phan. I could have changed the characters in it, but I liked it as it was and decided to keep it as it is, original characters and everything. Also this is the longest single chapter I have ever done (4188 words!) so I hope you'll stick with it and hopefully I'll get the next chapter up soon at the same length.
I do not own Dan, Phil, Kate Hudson, Tom Kirk or Chris Wolstenholme, but the words in this story and the way I made them act in this fiction belong to me. No events are real, it's all fiction.
