A/N: There's angst if you squint, but mostly fluff. Yay!

Enjoy!

-Justin

Chapter Eight: New Year, New You

January 1, 2011

I opened my eyes to bright light and a very hungover Dan. He hadn't woken up yet, but I knew he'd be cranky when he did. He was currently wrapped around me entirely, arms and legs tangled to the point that you couldn't tell whose was whose. I liked these mornings best, just lying next to him and curled up in the best way possible. It was one of the only times that one of us didn't end up blanket-less and frozen.

There was just enough space between our heads for me to see when his eyelids fluttered, and he blinked a few times before focusing on my face. As I'd suspected, he looked like he going to throw up, but he still gave a tiny smile and shuffled in closer, pressing our chests together. His arm tightened around my waist and I felt his lips press lazily against my cheek. Neither of us spoke- it wasn't necessary in this little universe we inhabited at the moment- but he let out a soft groan as the weight of last night's celebrations finally caught up to him, and then he was suddenly shoving himself away from me to lie flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling.

"Happy new year," I said with a smile, leaning over to return his kiss. He batted me away with one arm and sighed loudly. I moved to get up, saying, "I'll get you some ice." He muttered out something that sounded like a thanks, and I laughed as I made my way across the room.

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December 23, 2014

"According to EMS," Dr. Spencer explained, gesturing to a spot on his clipboard, "Mr. Lester was unconscious for an undetermined amount of time. Since we don't know how long his brain went without oxygen, we can't give a very detailed estimate of exactly what kind of damage we're dealing with." He had a head of dirty brown that was at least as thick as his skull, and he ran a hand through it roughly as he spoke. Emmy kept saying he was a great doctor and a wonderful guy, and how he was only ttying to distance himself from the emotions. In my humble opinion, he could've at least pretended to care.

"He couldn't have been out for more than a few minutes before I found him," I said from across the table. There were five of us seated around the thing, and I was fairly certain I'd be kicked out of the room if my patience got any shorter. "And he was breathing fine when I did get to him, so"-

"But we don't know how long he was out between the time he got up and the time you found him on the floor," Emmy cut in, scowling. I knew it was directed at me, and I sighed, leaning back in the chair. Her hand slid over to touch my arm. "We're going to do everything we can to get him through this." Her fingers stayed on my skin until I finally looked over to see why, and she smiled when our eyes met, finally releasing her grip.

"How much worse could it have been?" This from Phil's mum, Katherine. She was seated beside me, one hand on my knee. Everyone kept giving me these warnings, but I was just trying to help. They didn't know what it was like. Maybe if they were the ones who held Phil at night when he couldn't fake it anymore. "If Dan hadn't acted when he did, would he have died?"

"Most likely," said Dr. Spencer, piping up again. He sure was blunt. "The brain can only tolerate so long without oxygen before it becomes unable to support the human body."Katherine let out a little gasp and tightened her grip on my leg. "He's doing very well, considered the circumstances. To be quite honest, I was expecting much worse."

"Like?" I couldn't help butting in just one more time before this meeting was over.

"Paralysis, total loss of language processing," Dr. Spencer answered immediately, looking right at me. "Amnesia, to name a few." He twisted the pen around on the tabletop, but suddenly snatched it up and stuck it in his coat pocket. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. "I have patients to tend to, so if you'll excuse me. I'm sure you'd like to get back to him, anyway."

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December 25, 2014

"Emmy thought you might like these," I announced, dropping a load of notepads on the bed at Phil's feet. He was propped up by a mountain of pillows, something Dr. Spencer had said was necessary to reduce unnecessary muscle strain. I didn't question it because Phil seemed to enjoy it. "Since this whole aphasia thing only affected the verbal part of your language processing." We'd been working on learning some basic phrases in sign language, but so far it was a flop, as neither of us had the ability to remember how to make the shapes.

"Id-ea," Phil said with a smile, leaning forward to take one of the pads in his hands. He was getting better about not worrying so much if his broken speech made him sound dumb. As he settled back, one of the sleeves of his new jumper slid down, covering a bit of his palm, while the other stayed by his elbow where he'd been pushing it all day. It was incredibly attractive, but I could have been slightly biased. The sweater had soft stuff on the inside, and I'd gotten it two days ago in an attempt to make his confinement to bed as comfortable as possible, and then presented it to him this morning as soon as his eyes opened. We might not have been able to have a normal holiday this year, but I'd be damned if I didn't try.

"Hey, sweetie," Katherine announced as she appeared in the doorway. I smiled at her in greeting and watched as she walked over to the chair right by the bed. She had a small package in her hands, and I felt my own excitement at the prospect of what it might be. Anything that would make him smile would be good.

"Hey," Phil replied, head turning to look at her. She leaned in to kiss his cheek when he was facing her, and then handed over the wrapped box. I went over and sat down beside him as he opened it, wrapping an arm around his waist. He leaned into me a bit as he looked over the thing his mum had gotten him. His lips turned up in a huge smile as he lifted the object. "What's it?"

"Something to go with that nice jumper," she explained, reaching out to rub the fabric covering his arms. The pattern was owls, over gray background, and I was glad other people could appreciate how good it looked on him (even if it was his mum, who was probably more biased than me). "It's a stuffed owl," she continued, smiling widely. "I thought you might want something cute to cuddle with at night." She glanced at me for one second, then blushed and added, "Well, something else."

Just as quick as she'd come in, she was gone, and then it was just the two of us again. I settled down beside him once more, resting my head on his shoulder. "I think your mum still has a crush on me," I mused, running my fingers over the owl plushie he now had cradled to his chest. After a few heartbeats, he drew his knees up slightly, curling into a loose ball and turning on his side. His eyes slide shut almost immediately, head in my lap. I'd always been amazed by his ability to fall asleep literally anywhere, but that power seemed to have increased ten-fold since this incident. Still, he was smiling and not in tears, and that was the best Christmas gift I could have gotten.

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December 31, 2014

"I can't believe you did this," I read out loud. I'd just revealed the sea of people who'd be joining us tonight, and Phil had immediately scribbled out a message on his notepad. He kept one with him all the time now, and he was noticeably happier now that he had an outlet for that creative voice in his head. I squatted, balancing my weight on the balls of my feet, and met his eyes. He was sat in a wheelchair, the result of a whole lot of deliberation and debate over the benefits of letting him move around so much. Walking was apparently still out of the question, as he was still doing therapy twice a day. It turned out the oxygen deprivation had done a lot more damage than any of us thought. I was starting to worry that the whole paralysis thing might be more than a possibility, but I just kept telling myself it wasn't that since he was able to move his legs for PT. If he was paralyzed, he wouldn't be able to do that, right?

"Oh, honey, don't be shy," Louise called out from across the room, stepping away from Zoe Sugg. The two of them came right over to us, each one taking a side. "It wasn't all his fault, anyway. We couldn't celebrate without you."

Phil smiled and opened his mouth to reply, but then thought better of it and wrote another message instead. He was still pretty self-conscious about his new speech patterns, and for the time-being, his mum and I seemed to be the only two he willingly talked in front of. "You're welcome, sweetie," Louise replied after glancing at the note. Zoe leaned over to peck his cheek- making him blush- and I couldn't help but smile because it was so beautiful. It was really nice to see him this happy. "We love you so much, Phil," Louise assured him, and then, because of course she'd noticed my reaction, added, "Maybe not so much as him," with a wink and thumb hooked over her shoulder. He chuckled at that, and I decided to continue my current attitude of not giving a shit who saw what we did together anymore by curling a hand over his cheek and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"She's right," I agreed, "no one loves you more than me."

"Hey," someone said loudly. We all turned in the direction of the voice, which turned out to belong to Phil's brother, Martyn. He was pointing at the TV mounted to the wall with a grin. "Countdown's begun."

Everyone hurried to join the small group in the corner, and I put my hands on the handles of Phil's chair to push him over. A few seconds later, I was bending down to whisper in his ear, "Wrap your arms around me."

He stood up shakily, but his legs moved as he worked with them to support his weight. He had his arms tight around my neck, and once he was straight, I wound my own around his waist, holding him against me. His breathing hitched when he slipped an inch, but I tightened my grip on him and helped him stand. I could hear Martyn shouting out the numbers as we counted down from ten, and when the ball reached the bottom, everyone screamed out cheers and turned to each other. Zoe and her brother Joe kissed cheeks, Caspar yanked Phil's mum over for an awkward side-hug. Phil's dad reached out and wrapped Martyn up in a warm hug, and then Caspar pulled them in to create a more awkward group hug. Darcy puckered her lips dramatically and pressed them to Louise's cheek, and Louise giggled at the contact.

While this was all going on around us, after I'd glanced around to see the others, I brought one arm up to wrap around his shoulders, and he tucked himself closer to me, until our lips were only an inch apart. "New Year," Phil said softly, and I barely had time to register the fact that he'd said it without any problems before his lips were crashing down on mine. He pulled away a couple times just to change the angle a bit, and then we were reconnecting again, and in that moment, I was pretty sure I hadn't felt that kind of intensity since the night we'd kissed for the first time ever, up at the top of the Manchester Eye. It all felt like a very long time ago.

"New Year," I echoed when he finally pried his lips away. He smiled sheepishly, cheeks flushing with colour. "New you." I tightened my grip on his waist and brought the arm over his shoulders up so I could cup his cheek, thumb stroking softly under his left eye. He leaned into the contact, eyes closed, and I would've sworn, in that moment, I fell just a little more in love. "I love you," I whispered, the words slipping out on their own. After more than six years with him, it wasn't something I had to spend a lot of time mulling over.

"Lo…ve," He replied. "Love. Yo-u toooo." His eyes popped open and I knew he was about to make himself feel like dirt for not saying it perfectly, so I pulled him back to me in a hug tight enough to render him silent.

A/N: I think I'm getting the hang of the whole "aphasia" thing.