A/N: Okay you are all officially spoilt. Pfft. –blows raspberry- In any case, here's your next bit of Subtle Nuances. I know everyone wants to know what happens after Keel passes out, so here you go! Much love to GoldCatMaster, my first reviewer! Yay! -hands a PPP pillow with the "phluff phan" scratched out and replaced with "phanatic"-
Responding to reviews:
GoldCatMaster: Thanks for the welcome! ) Kudos on figuring out why she faints!
Queen of Harry Potter: Thanks, and I will update frequently as is apparent with this chapter!
Mondlering Moofoot: Thanks for taking the time to
review my humble 'lil story! -grin- Good point with the
"she/Keely" thing – I'll fix that after I upload this
chapter. I'm so glad I made someone laugh, because I crack up as I
write this thing (not this chapter though, this one's farrrr too
depressing). And give me back my points, I'm spoiling you!
Thanks to any and all future reviewers!
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Phil heard the "thunk" of something hitting the floor. He figured it was just someone's books and disregarded it. That is, he ignored it until he heard gasps and people dashing down the hallways. He spun around on his heel and dropped his own books, creating a similar sound.
Keely lay on the floor in front of him, totally crumpled up. Her long blonde hair created a shroud over her head, and her books were still under her. Without thinking twice, Phil scooped her up in his arms, with difficulty as he hadn't really ever done this before. Her head and shoulders were draped over his left arm, and he had his right arm under her knees with her legs folding over it. She had red marks on her cheeks and arms where her books and the floor had smacked her.
Terrified and with a human life in his arms, he rushed towards the front door of the school. With a well-placed foot he kicked it open, allowing the sunlight to stream through the double doors. People behind him in the hall tittered about this in low voices, but they all heard about the kiss and assumed that of course since his "girlfriend" was lying on the ground he would do something about it.
However he wasn't sure what he was going to do. He couldn't take her to the hospital, no, that wouldn't do. They would probably interrogate him, thinking he did something to her, and he didn't want to risk having to tell someone the truth about where he was from. For now, he decided, he would take her home. He must have looked crazy, jogging slowly down the sidewalk with a lifeless-looking blonde girl in his arms, but fortunately he lived very near school (A/N: I don't know if he does or not but whatever).
Impatient, Phil rounded the corner to his house. He tapped the doorbell, praying that someone would come to answer. No one did. Apparently his parents had chosen a fine time to go 21st century grocery shopping. Phil remembered the delivery by teleport of groceries in his own century, and wished that these "knuckle-draggers," as Pim referred to them, would hurry up and figure it out. After moving Keely so she was leaning against one arm, he rummaged around in his pocket for his door key with his free hand. After unlocking the door, he picked the blonde back up again.
Not-so-gracefully, he laid his friend's limp body out on the couch, checking for the soft rise and fall of her chest that told him she still breathed. With a gentle hand he smoothed her hair away from her face and spread her out comfortably, in case she did wake up. Next he did what he knew she would have him do if she were conscious – he pulled the now-infamous red lipgloss from her pocket and clumsily spread it across her lips. "I respect you more now Keel," he said as if she could hear him. "This stuff is not easy to deal with." After checking out of habit to see that she was comfortable and none of her limbs were falling off the couch, Phil dashed into the kitchen.
After a minute or two he returned, bearing in his hand a wet washcloth. Sitting on the couch, he lifted Keely's head up and placed it on his lap. Gently he wiped the rag across her forehead, in the hopes of reviving her. "Crackers," he murmured as he looked at the rag. Where it had once been white, it was now tan. He didn't pick up on it until he had wiped down her whole face. "My stars, Keel," he mused, "that is a lot of makeup." Her face had a new, fresh look on it, and even Phil could tell that it wasn't because of the sheen of water on her face. "My stars, Keel," he whispered again, "you should try this look more often." His soft wiping with the washcloth had stripped Keely's face of most of the foundation, powder, and blush that she wore each day.
Setting the washcloth to the side, Phil stroked his friend's face with his own warm hand. "Keel, why? Why the impulsive kiss? Why did you pass out? Keely Teslow, I need to know so we can fix you! Why…" Worn out from carrying his friend and from the day's stress, he fell asleep, his hand in Keely's hair and his head tilted away from her.
--
"Lloyd, just because something is on sale doesn't mean you have to get it," Barb criticized.
"I know, but, I mean, come on!" Lloyd had already figured that was going nowhere. "I… love you?"
"Mmhm," mumbled his wife, mostly to herself, as she unlocked the door. First thing she saw when she opened it was her son and his best friend sprawled on the couch. Phil was sitting upright, or looked like he was an hour ago. Now his body was tilted onto the armrest, and Keely had her head in his lap. His hands were entwined in her hair. "Oh, dear me!" she whispered, walking over to Phil. She tapped his head lightly.
"Mom?" Phil said groggily, lifting his fists to wipe the sleep goo from his eyes. "Oh my stars, Mom this isn't what it looks like!" He lifted Keely's head gently off his lap and put it back down on the couch when he got up.
Barb cocked one eyebrow. "Well I wasn't considering that before, but now I'm thinking it was." They were all whispering, as if Keely would wake up because of the volume of their voices. "What exactly is it?"
Phil sighed and walked to stand next to his mother, both looking at Keely's limp body. "Keel passed out at school," he said in a normal voice, to prove his point. "In the hallway. No one else seemed to care so I picked her up and carried her home. I wiped her face with a washcloth and it didn't seem to help. I guess I was exhausted, and I fell asleep. I don't know what to do and I'm really scared. I checked to make sure she has a pulse and everything, I mean, she's breathing. But still, I don't know what to do…" His voice faded and the three were left with odd looks on their faces.
"Lloyd, go put the groceries away please," Barb ordered. "Phil, we need to take Keely to the hospital."
"No, we are not going to the hospital!" shouted an angry Lloyd from the kitchen. "I don't trust those 21st century doctors. Besides, what if they ask us questions? We can't tell them anything without telling them we're from the future!"
Barb sighed. "Lloyd, we may not be from this century, but Keely is, and no one can treat her better than the doctors of her own time." She turned to Phil. "Can you carry her back to the 21st century transportation vehicle?" Phil nodded. "Good. Hon, we will be back when we figure out what's wrong with Keely."
Phil scooped her up and carried her out to the car, spreading her out on the three backseats and sitting back there under her head again. His mom took off slightly over the speed limit to the local hospital.
--
"Mrs. Diffy, Mr. Diffy," a doctor pushed the door open. "I am Doctor Hershey," he annunciated, for some odd reason or another. Phil and Barb disregarded it. "Miss Teslow's vitals are all fine, except for the fact that she is not aware of her surroundings. Actually, we think that she is aware of her surroundings but she cannot force her body to respond. Something is disconnected, so to speak, and her body will not work or do what she wants, but we see some brain activity. We are going to try to rouse her sometime today. You may stay as long as you like, even overnight, seeing as this is such an odd case," he rattled the entire thing off. Then he pointed out the little red button to call a nurse with and left the room.
"Hon, I'm going to leave," Barb apologized. "Your father refused to learn 21st century cooking, or at least to a degree high enough to cook his own lunch, and I don't trust him with Pim's or his own stomach. I will visit this evening, and tomorrow, if you want to stay overnight." Naturally she had assumed Phil would want to, considering his best friend was lying in a bed, and semi-unconscious. She put a couple $20s in his hand and he gratefully stuffed them in his pocket.
Phil, of course, nodded. "Of course, Mom. I'll stop by the cafe and get some lunch and dinner, and for the most part just stay right here. I'll see if I can figure out anything that may have gone wrong." He stood to hug his mother and kissed her cheek, and then she left. Phil and Keely were alone.
"Keel, please get better. I don't trust these doctors any more than I can throw them, but Mom's right. Only 21st century medicine can make you better – anything I try would probably make you worse." His eyes were tearing up, but he blinked it back. "I know you'll make it. And I know you can hear me. Pull through, Keel." He took her hand in his and rubbed it, keeping a careful eye on her vitals and 02 saturations. They didn't have a mask or anything on her, just those blinking red thingies on her fingers. Phil didn't know much about the art of medicine but he did know he had to figure out what happened… and fast.
Suddenly his opportunity smacked him in the face. Keely's eyes fluttered open. "Phil?" she asked weakly. "Phil, what happened?"
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A/N: w00t for Pheely Phluff! Okay, slight Pheely Phluff, even if the "eely" part isn't totally there. But really, I mean, which one of us doesn't want to be carried home by Phil? And she was unconscious the whole time! No fair… -sinks off into a daydream- R&R! And this one was a lot longer than other chapters! Also, I don't know much about hospitals so forgive me if my info and stuff is wrong… not sure how they measure brain activity but they managed it. So there. Pfft. More soon, I swear.