The hospital room was small, stuffy and hot. The first rays of dawn flooded in through the window on the wall to the left, shining down onto the floor and to Dan's feet.

He stood, shakily, his long legs almost giving way beneath him. The nurse was beside him, holding a clipboard and looking very sombre indeed.

"We've tried everything we possibly could to save him," she assured him, "But it's too late. He should be asleep by nine, so you can have your moment."

"What about his family?" Dan asked, quivering, "Do they not get to see him?"

"We called them but there's sadly not enough time for them to get here," the nurse replied, "They'll be coming to the funeral, which should be on Saturday. Phil mentioned he wanted to see you; there's a chair there beside the bed. Keep an eye on the heart rate monitor. When you're ready, you can come back out. I'll let you have your privacy…" and she silently turned to walk down the hallway, closing the door quietly behind her.

Dan gave a drawn-out sigh and swallowed.

The only sounds were the EKG monitor and his footsteps as he headed over to his friend's side and sat down on the chair.

Phil was half-asleep, curled up under the sheets, dressed in an oversized hospital gown and looking a bit worse for wear.

He gave a little smile as Dan sat down and opened his eyes to gaze up to him.

"Hello, Dan!" He breathed, "What time is it?"

"Half past eight," Dan answered, leaning his elbows on his knees and putting his chin in his hands.

Phil gave a happy hum of some kind,

"We have a whole 30 minutes!" He chirped.

"That's not nearly enough," Dan muttered, staring down at the floor, his eyes brimming with tears, "I need a whole day at least."
"Nah," Phil replied, shaking his head, "The sooner it's over, the sooner you can get back to normal, right?"

"It won't be back to normal," Dan whined, dropping his hands between his knees and looking back up to him, "It'll never be: not with you gone."

"Sure it will. Maybe it won't be exactly the same, but you'll find yourself sometime," Phil smiled, "You'll promise me that, won't you? You have to stop feeling sorry for yourself one day."

"I will," Dan nodded, "I promise."

Phil grinned and unsteadily sat up straight, yawning as he did.

"That's good," he said, closing his eyes for a second and looking very pleased, "How are you? They said you could go home today, didn't they? That must be great."

"It's really not," Dan denied.

"Why not? You don't want to stay here, do you? Man, the food here's awful…"

"I don't want to go home without you, it won't feel right."

"You can take my glasses," Phil sniggered, pointing to the table beside him where his back-rimmed glasses were folded up neatly beside a cup of water, "I won't be needing them, after all."

Dan forced a smile and picked the glasses up to fiddle with them in his hands.

"I have a song in my head," Phil said, folding one of his legs over the other, "Can you guess what it is?" And he started to hum a tune.

Dan blinked and listened, intently,

"I don't know," he said, eventually.

"Oh, come on, Dan, you must recognise it!"

"…Can't quite put my finger on it, no…"

"Would it help if I sang it?"

"Probably, I mean-"
"Whenever I'm alone, or if I'm feeling grey, there's one place I can go to brighten up my day…"

"Phil…"

"Makes me want to sing; that's how the show should end, but wouldn't it be good if I… could sing it with a friend?"

Dan gave a melancholy grin,

"OK, fine, whatever, I'll join in, too…"

"I might go outside and feel more alive, but without Twitter, where would I be?" Phil chimed in.

"I guess I'd be fit, I'd stop posting rubbish, but tumblr's a part of me…"

"So many websites and so little time, plus one or two you should avoid."

"Just don't stop watching YouTube, or we'll be unemployed!"

"The internet is here…"

"The internet is great…"

"When you've got lots of followers, who needs a real mate?"
"It might be anti-social-"

"-But these days that is fine-"

"'Cause life is so much better when you spent it all online…" Dan finished, a single tear running down his face.

Phil laughed, his tongue between his teeth, making himself cough on his own breath, and breathed a heavy sigh.

"I'm going to miss you so much, you don't even know," Dan murmured.

"I'd say I'll miss you, too, but I think you realise the irony in that," Phil replied, a sad smile on his face.

Dan swallowed and tenderly reached out to hug his friend. He felt like he had to be extra gentle or he'd somehow shatter him.

Phil wrapped his arms around him and gave a choke. He was weak and was holding onto Dan with all his might but ended up just clinging to him, shakily, as Dan supported him in his arms.

"I don't want you to go," Dan whispered, tears rolling down his face.

"Hey, don't cry, Danny," Phil replied, softly, "Sorry, you don't like people calling you Danny, do you?"

"It's fine," Dan breathed, "You can call me Danny if you want to."

"In the fifteen minutes I have left?" Phil sniggered, "I'll have to fit as many in as I can, won't I, Danny?"

Dan wrapped his arms around him further, his breath staggering.

"Fifteen minutes?" He repeated, "Is that all? It's gone so fast… I don't want to leave."

"When you do…" Phil started, "I need to tell you something. At home, in my top drawer in my bedroom, under all the socks, there's a box. I've been quietly hoarding stuff for years in preparation for… you know… this happening."

"I…"

"I know, it's a bit weird, isn't it? There's a note in there, too, just in case there's something I don't manage to say today. You know what I'm like, I'm so forgetful."

"Thank you, Phil."

"It's alright, I should be thanking you."

"For what?"

"You really don't know? For sticking with me for all this time. How long has it been? 7 years?"

"Yeah…"

"You've been a great friend, Danny. Never think you haven't."

"There's so many more things we could have done…"

"To be fair, I'm quite annoyed I'm never going to get to see the second series of Attack on Titan. You know, if there's any way in the future to bring people back to life, you'll have to tell me all about it."

Dan smiled and sniffed, wiping his nose with his finger, his arm rubbing past Phil's ribs as he did.

"I'm sorry this had to happen," he said, "I should have listened to you, I could have steered the car out of the way, we could have escaped with only a few scrapes-"

"This isn't your fault, Dan; it's not the fault of either of us, nor the hospital. They've done all they can."

Dan sighed,

"Why does it have to be like this?" He choked.

"These things happen, it can't be helped."

And they were both quiet for a while, the only sound the beeping of the heart rate monitor beside them.

Dan looked up to it and bit his lip. The gaps between the beats were getting slower…

"Time's running out," Phil said, "Isn't it?"

"It is," Dan said, pulling him closer.

"You don't have to stay any longer if you don't want."

"I want to."

Phil smiled behind his back,

"Look after our channels for me, won't you?" He asked.

"I will, don't worry," Dan assured him, "And I'm going to keep your name in the gaming channel title."

"Thank you, Danny," Phil hummed, closing his eyes, "Oh, and Dan?"

"Yeah, Philly?"

"Don't be sad for too long, alright? You know that's not what I'd want."

"I know."

Phil gave one last snigger turning his head, weakly to look at Dan,

"Give me one last smile. Go on, you can do it…" he pleaded.

It took all of Dan's strength, but he managed to smile one last time, and the little sparkle in his friend's eyes was, at that moment, the definition of happiness.

Phil yawned and put his head back on Dan's shoulder,

"Goodnight, Dan," he said, quietly.

"Night, Phil."

And the beeping went dead.