A/N: I hope you like angst, because there's a lot. I'M SORRY OKAY? It'll be worth it, I promise.

Warning: Swearing. I know I say it every time, but there's actually a fair amount of it this time. Just FYI, you know?

As always, enjoy and leave a review!

-Justin

Chapter Four: Unexpected

November 11, 2010 (Phil)

"Surgery?"

Dan stared the doctor down with wide eyes. His hand found mine and latched on with a death grip. I looked between him and the man standing before us, watching wearily. Dan's face was colourless, all the blood having drained from his cheeks at the mention of surgery. As far as I knew, he'd never had to experience it before now, and the fear was evident on his face, mixing in with the pain etched across his forehead.

"I'm afraid so," the man said- I think his name was Spencer?- as he nodded his head slowly. "Your appendix could rupture at any moment." Dan's eyes shifted to meet mine, glossy and shining with tears threatening to spill over. His grip on my hand tightened further, almost painful, but I didn't say anything. Dr. Spencer looked to me briefly before continuing. "If you'd like, I can leave you with your friend to discuss it." I didn't miss the way Dan's brow furrowed at the word friend, and I would have laughed if it weren't so stressful. Sometimes I forgot that there were people who didn't ship us.

"He's my boyfriend," Dan grumbled.

"That'll be fine," I cut in before he could say anything else. "Just give us a few minutes." I flashed my sweetest smile at him, and he simply nodded before leaving the room. Dan was shaking his head as soon as the doctor had turned his back.

"You know you have to," I said softly, leaning down to be closer. I reached out with my free hand to smooth his hair back, creating a quiff that I couldn't help but laugh at. "I know you don't want to, but you heard what the doctor said, love. If it bursts, they might not be able to get to it in time."

He was silent for almost a minute, eyes closed and clutching my hand, while I stroked my fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm him down. Finally, his lips moved. "I know," he whispered. "I don't want that." Eyelids fluttered, and his expression made me want to crawl under the covers and hold him close. "But I'm scared." His voice broke on the last word, and I couldn't take it anymore. He yelped as I moved to sit beside him, but he quickly settled into my embrace as I wrapped an arm around him. The nurses would just have to deal with it.

"It's okay to be scared," I assured him, tilting my head to rest on top of his. "I'll stay right here with you until they force me away, and then when you open your eyes, I'll be the first thing you see." I heard a soft giggle and pulled back just a bit to see his face. "How does that sound?"

"I could live with that." He gave a weak smile, and I went to press my lips to his cheek, where one tear had finally broken free. He palmed my cheek, curling his fingers over my jaw, and when I pulled away, he tugged me right back down to his lips.

"Press the button when you're ready," I mumbled against him, gesturing toward the control clipped to the blanket. "You'll be okay. I promise."

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October 26, 2014

Phil was still slightly unsteady. Louise had tried to talk us into staying with her another night, but I'd politely declined. I knew she meant well, but Phil had already expressed a desire- more than once- to go back home and I knew he would feel better once he was surrounded by familiar stuff.

We stood on the platform in the underground, waiting for the next train to arrive. Phil hadn't let go of my hand once since we left Louise's place, and I was looking forward to getting him away from these crowds. He let his head rest on my shoulder while we waited.

"Well, well," said a voice to our right. I ignored it at first; there were a lot of people talking. When the voice spoke again, my hands automatically clenched into fists. "Look who decided to show his face again."

"Fuck," I muttered, low enough that only Phil could hear. He straightened up immediately and looked around. I saw the colour drain from his cheeks when he laid eyes on the person who was currently speaking. He stepped closer, making our sides touch, and latched his other hand onto my arm. I guessed he was already preparing to hold me back, which wasn't a bad idea since I already kind of wanted to hit him again.

"Gonna let him fight his own battle this time, Danny boy?" Kagan appeared in front of me, practically spitting his words. It'd been almost two days since this guy had seen us, and he looked just as pissed as he'd been right after I decked him. Someone shuffled beside him, and I noticed his lady friend swaying anxiously at his side. She had one hand on his shoulder, but that was pointless. I looked back to Kagan, smiling in approval when I saw the purple splotch of a bruise on his jaw. He caught me looking and brought one hand to his chin, rubbing the skin roughly. Was he trying to tell me it didn't hurt? I didn't give a shit about his pain level.

"Babe, come on," the girl whispered harshly, trying to pull him back. "They're not worth it." He shoved her off, stepping away. She threw her hands up and backed off, joining an older man who watched me with angry eyes.

"First of all," I started, holding a hand up. "Don't call me that. Second, there's no battle to be fought." I made a shooing motion with my fingers. "So run along now. Nobody has time for this."

"You ought to make time," Kagan sneered, taking another step toward me. I could feel Phil pressing against me, and I sort of wished he'd get out of the line of fire. "So tell me, boys, which one of you takes the meat? My money's on this one- he jabbed a finger into Phil's arm and Phil recoiled away- since he's hanging on you like a clingy girlfriend." I actually took a step back because I was so unprepared for that outburst, and I opened my mouth to tell him off.

"Leave us alone," Phil demanded suddenly, beating me to it. I was actually a little shocked, because he never did that. It was one of the internet's favorite things about him. The train was pulling into the station, screeching horrifically, so I gave Phil's arm a tug and led him away from the circle of people who'd gathered. Kagan followed, of course.

"Don't walk away from me," he spat at us, stepping in front and blocking our path.

"Get out of the way," I responded, shoving past him. I was done with this. The doors opened and I made sure Phil was in front of me before I pushed him through, weaving around the annoyed people trying to get off. I guided him to a bench in the corner and sat him down, watching behind us and hoping that idiot hadn't decided to follow us again. I could see him standing on the platform still, lips moving quickly. It looked like he was talking to the girl, but I couldn't be bothered to care. Still, I didn't really breathe until the door finally slid shut and a voice crackled over the PA to announce the places we'd be stopping at. "Are you okay?" I asked, turning my attention to Phil. He looked like he was about to be sick.

"I'm sorry," he said, leaning into my side. I wrapped an arm around him automatically; it was a reflex by this point.

"What for?" I asked, running a hand up and down his arm. "It was all his fault." As soon as the words left my mind, I realized what he could have been apologizing for. He was the one who'd wanted to do it, after all. I mean, I did, too, but he'd never had any doubts. "Don't apologize for that," I told him. "We knew there'd be hate, and we agreed that it was worth it." I took his face in my palm and made him look at me. "I agreed to that. He'll get bored of it eventually."

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Something wasn't right. I could feel it before I even opened my eyes, but the feeling only got worse when I realized Phil wasn't beside me. I got up immediately, preparing for the worst. Call me pessimistic, but I'd rather be pleasantly surprised if all he's doing is sneaking my cereal at three in the morning.

I didn't hear the usual sounds floating out of the kitchen. Usually, I'd hear something banging around and then a muffled curse after he inevitably smacked his head on the cupboard door he'd left open. I wasn't surprised to find the kitchen dark and empty, but that only made the pit in my stomach hurt worse. I knew he wasn't in his bedroom, because the door had been standing wide open.

The lounge light was on. I saw this before I got to the doorway, and I froze. It was just like that moment in the horror movie where the main character realizes they're trapped in the house with the scary murderer. There was still silence, and finally I burst into the lounge to see what the hell was going on. I ended up tripping over Phil, because he was sprawled out in front of the sofa, face down.

"Jesus, Phil," I groaned, pushing myself up. "I'm the one who has the crises around here." He didn't move, even after I'd basically kicked the shit out of him. I was on my knees, about to stand up. Instead I crawled over to his side and took hold of his arm. There was literally no resistance as I lifted it up. I was ill prepared for that, and ended up letting go; his palm smacked the carpet and flopped. My breath hitched in my throat when I realized the seriousness of this situation.

"Goddamn it," I muttered. His phone was on the floor beside him. I took it and dialed 999, feeling the dread bubble up like nausea in my stomach.

"Police, fire, or ambulance," inquired the electronic voice. It only took a few seconds to reach an actual person, who immediately started in with questions about what'd happened. I wasn't very helpful; the lady on the other end just asked more questions. Finally, she said the words I really didn't want to hear. I hadn't even know how strongly I felt until she was telling me, "Sir, the ambulance is on its way." There was a pause and then, "Do you have aspirin, by chance?"

"Aspirin?"

"Yes, if your friend is having heart troubles, it can help thin the blood and prevent some damage." Her voice was calm, as if she gave these instructions to a thousand people every day. Maybe she did.

"He's bloody unconscious," I informed her. "How will that work?"

"Put it under his tongue and let it dissolve. That's what the paramedics will do when they get there. You'll just be helping speed things along."

"Alright then," I conceded, getting to my feet. She'd said not to hang up until the medics got here, so I held the phone to my ear as I went through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. By the time I got back to his side and had the tablet stuck in his mouth, I could hear the sirens. Two minutes later, people were pounding on the door. When the three of them crowded around Phil, I was suddenly aware of how small he looked. Small and frail and vulnerable. He was wearing his Star Wars pyjama pants- I'd forgotten about him putting them on last night. He was bare-chested, which was probably better for the medics. I couldn't stop staring at the small bruise on his neck, a remnant of what I'd done to him earlier that night in an attempt to make him forget about our encounter in the underground.

"Are you coming as well, sir?" asked one of them. I nodded without a second thought. Of course I was going with them. I wanted to laugh at that, but I was pretty sure if I started laughing, I'd end up crying. It was all crashing down on me at once, and I was hyperaware of how possible it was that this could turn into a tragedy. Someone pressed something into my hands, and I stuck it in my pocket without looking. I felt numb all of a sudden.

There was a hand on my arm, guiding me, and I followed blindly. Into the back of the ambulance, followed by Phil and the two carrying him. They locked him in place and then we were speeding off toward Whittington, or A&E. I didn't know which one we'd get to first. I watched his face for a while, covered by an awful-looking oxygen mask. My hand reached out to his, searching for something that simply wasn't there at the moment. He didn't squeeze my fingers when I grasped his palm, and my heart seized in my chest. I wasn't the type of person to really express feelings. At least, not to anyone besides him, and maybe Louise. I'd have to call her at some point. I brought his hand to my cheek, ignoring the looks I got from the medics, and held his palm to my skin, jolting slightly when I realized my face was wet. Of course I'd only start crying once I was surrounded by strangers.

I prayed to a God I didn't really believe in and hoped I'd see his eyes again soon.

A/N: I'm hopefully going to be updating Little Moments in the next few days, so be on the lookout for that!