Dan knew that fire wasn't a living thing. It didn't have a heart. It didn't have a soul. It didn't have a conscience. But when he woke up to flames gnawing away at his apartment, this was hard to believe.

The smoke swirled around him, creating strange shapes, or was he just hallucinating? Every time he opened his mouth to try and inhaled some oxygen, the smoke shoved itself down his throat, burning his lungs. In that moment, Dan wondered dimly why anyone would choose to smoke. That was unimportant at the present time, however, so he could ponder the mysteries of the human mind later. Escape the fire now.

Wait a moment, his best friend was also in this apartment, wasn't he? He might still be asleep!

Dan shoved himself out of bed, cursing as his legs got tangled in the duvet and he tumbled to the floor. The flames were coming from down the hall, so this patch of carpet wasn't on fire yet, thank Christ.

He hauled himself off the ground, and staggered towards the door. Unfortunately, Dan was a clumsy fuck. He knocked off the smoldering door frame, hitting his left shoulder hard enough to cause damage even if the damn thing wasn't on fire.

Strangely enough, he could barely feel it at all. Dan had heard that adrenaline works wonders, but then remembered that he would really be feeling it later. He cursed as he stumbled over the sharp camera equipment in their hallway. It only seemed to get more messy now that the smoke hindered anyone from seeing more than a foot in front of them.

Looking through the veil of grey, Dan could see a tall man with pale white skin and jet black hair through the doorway. Phil. He was pressed against the corner of his room, blue eyes bright with fear. There was a barrier of flames obstructing him from the hallway and Dan. But, there was a small gap!

"Phil! Next to your bed!" Dan choked out. Adrenaline didn't stop him from breathing in smoke. He remembered dimly a video, a Shane Dawson one if he remembered correctly, that said that there is a certain kind of smoke that kills you if you breath it in for more than a minute and a half. Hopefully house fires didn't cause that kind of smoke.

Phil took a running start and leapt over the flames where they were low. Almost slamming straight into the wall next to the doorway, he made to grab Dan's left shoulder, but froze when he saw the huge burn. He grabbed his right arm instead. "We need to get out of h-here! You need to go t-to a hospital!" Phil coughed. Dan noticed that Phil's coughs weren't quite as deep as his, for some reason.

As they crashed through the apartment, Dan started feeling light-headed. He as they took the first few steps down the stairs, Dan had to grab Phil's elbow to keep himself from collapsing completely. Phil looked at him, concern clear in his eyes, behind the layer of fear from the fire. "I... can't..." Dan gasped out. Phil frowned at him, grabbed Dan's right arm, and slung it around Phil's own thin shoulders. "Keep going." He said firmly.

Dan stumbled down the many flights of stairs, Phil supporting his weight more than Dan's own legs. In his clouded mind, something surfaced. Hadn't he read somewhere what adrenaline can cause panic attacks? That must be why the smoke was affecting him so much more than Phil. He shuddered as he heard his own wheezing breath.

Finally, they got outside. There was a small crowd gathered there, most of them residents of the building as well. They swarmed around Dan and Phil, brows creasing in concern as they saw Dan's poor condition. Probably because as soon as they were out of the immediate danger, Dan dropped on all fours and proceeded to puke everything he had out, right onto the pavement. His body heaved to try and get the toxins he had inhaled out. He also fought for consciousness as a wrecking-ball headache tried to take over his brain.

Dan slumped onto his side, noticing but barely caring about the horrific burn on his shoulder. He could hear voices chattering frantically around him, but couldn't for the life of him work out where they were coming from, or what they were saying.

"Dan? Dan! DAN!"

"Poor boy. He's paler than a ghost, almost blue-"

"Did you hear how the fire started?"

"-old lady, heard she has Alzheimer's, poor dear-"

"-just left the stove on?"

"Sir, we must to ask you to move away from him-"

"Will he be okay? Dan has to be okay! You have to take him to a hospital!"

"We have the ambulance right here with us-"

"That burn needs immediate attention-"

He felt himself being lifted up, and then deposited onto something cold and slightly rubbery, but soft, and he felt an oxygen mask go over his face. Then he tumbled head first into the oblivion that was unconsciousness.

...

Woo! Finally done this extremely short fanfic! This was a little difficult writing the medical-y stuff, but I think I got most facts right. I'm not too sure about the adrenaline-can-give-you-panic-attacks thing, because I know if you give someone a shot of epinephrine, they might hyperventilate, but I'm not sure about the natural stuff. Let me know in the reviews if you're an expert on that kind of thing!

~FALFAL