I'll heal the hole in your heart chapter 11
Summary about chapter 11: (They're 18 years old) Just read chapter 10, then you'll find out what's going on.
A/N: Still an amazing story..(; From this chapter and further on will contain heavy angst! (No major triggers, don't worry.)
Words: 5.266
Phil -
"What's wrong?" I asked nervously. I quickly sat up and repositioned myself so that I was beside Dan, and grabbed a hold around his torso to keep him from falling forward off the sofa.
"Dan, what's wrong?" I asked again, a little louder this time. But he only groaned in response, unable to form words. Still trying to hold his body up in a sitting position, I moved to kneel in front of him, trying to get a better view. He was staring blankly into the air, clearly in a lot of pain. His eyes focused straight ahead without looking at anything in particular.
"Hey, calm down and talk to me. Deep breaths, Dan. Follow me," I told him in a loud, clear voice. I lifted up his chin to get eye contact, but I got no response. It was like he couldn't even see me.
I tried focusing on talking deep breaths in the hopes that he would follow me. I was used to dealing with high blood pressure, although this seemed a lot worse than usual since I couldn't get any response from him. If it was his blood pressure, then I needed to get his breathing down. I could try and use the spray on him one more time—that would probably lower his heart rate—but he seemed too out of it to cooperate long enough for that to work.
"Erhm..." I was desperately searching my mind for a solution, but I'd run out. I started to shake as I realised I was helpless at this point, unable to make him feel better.
I unsteadily placed two fingers to the side of his neck and pressed down, but I could barely feel his pulse. It was going too fast, but only superficially—not nearly pounding hard enough. While trying to keep him sitting up, I pulled out my phone and dialed 999 without any further questions since he'd already been feeling off. When it started ringing, I put the phone on speaker before placing it down on the coffee table, making it possible for me to put my full attention on helping Dan the best I could.
"Ph-Phi... Call 999..." Dan said desperately, through strenuous breaths. He started shaking violently in front of me and both of his hands were pressed hard against his chest while he moved restlessly back and forth in my grip.
"I'm already on it," I assured him nervously. But he didn't seem to register it at all. I'd never been in a situation like this. Sure, I'd dealt with him when he was sick and in pain, but this was a whole other thing. This was that kind of stuff his parents used to deal with, but now it was my responsibility. His parents had trusted me enough to let him come with me, and I couldn't live with myself if something happened to him.
I told the operator that I needed an ambulance and waited anxiously to be patched through. I was freaking out, but I couldn't let Dan know that and make him even more scared.
"Hello. What is the nature of your emergency?" I finally heard a woman's voice ask through the phone behind me.
"My name's Phil Lester and s-something's w-wrong with my friend. He-he's a heart patient," I cried out desperately in the direction of the phone. This seemed so surreal; I couldn't really comprehend that it was actually happening. He'd passed out in my company before, sure, but it was nothing like this. Not even close. That time, his pulse was fine, his breathing was fine, and he was just unconscious. Nothing was fine now.
I tried the best I could to explain our situation—where we were and who Dan was (as he was a known heart patient)—to the dispatcher. Dan only seemed to get worse as each second went by. He was as pale as snow and almost slippery to the touch because he was sweating so much. I was shaking so much that just keeping my hands on him was nearly impossible.
"N-no. I can't get any response from h-him," I stuttered while still trying to catch eye contact. But he couldn't focus, not even on himself.
"Is he still breathing?"
"Y-yeah, he's still breathing, but... it's really shallow." I could hear he was breathing and I could feel it a little bit when I held my hand in front of his mouth, but it wasn't nearly enough. His lips had turned a light shade of blue while clear mucus was running out of his mouth.
Dan started moaning with each breath, but if it was because he was trying to tell me something or just because he was in so much pain, I couldn't tell. The only thing I knew was that we needed to work fast.
But before I got to explain any further, Dan went limp and fell forward into my arms.
I froze on my feet, eyes wide open, unable to move while I held Dan loosely to my chest. His arms hung numbly at his side, lifeless, not moving at all. His noises had stopped and the room became silent.
"What's going on?" The dispatcher's voice jolted me out of my trance and I knew that this was a matter of seconds.
Feeling as though I was working in slow motion, I pulled us both up to standing, Dan's weight only feeling like a feather to me at this point. I dragged him past the coffee table before placing him flat down on a clear space on the floor.
"I-I think he's h-having a heart attack," I muttered, hoping it was loud enough for her to hear. "I think he's having a heart attack!" was all I kept repeating over and over. My world suddenly seemed locked out and the only thing I could hear was my own heavy breathing. After all those years of worrying, it was finally happening. Just like in all of my worst nightmares. Dan was having a heart attack.
My mind was screaming at me to move—do something, anything—but I was paralysed. It was like my mind and my body were two individuals, working independent of each other, unable to cooperate.
Sitting on my knees beside him, I stayed still, desperately trying to remember what I'd learned during the many first aid courses I'd taken throughout the years.
"Phil?" her voice called from behind me. It was like being picked up out of water, finally able to understand the world again. "Can you tell me what's happening?"
"He's not breathing," I muttered quietly, only loud enough for me to hear. "He's not breathing." I started panicking as it slowly dawned on me what was happening. Dan was not breathing.
"Phil, I need you to tell me what's going on," the lady spoke again.
"H-he's not breathing!" I shouted as I jumped up.
"Do you know CPR? Phil?"
The word CPR circled around my head, but even my own name sounded strange and unrecognisable. Did I even know CPR?
"Y-yes! Yes, I d-do!" I'd been to numerous first aid courses throughout the period I'd known Dan since there was a big chance that this situation might happen someday. I thought I'd be fine with it because I was prepared. But no amount of training in the world could've prepared me for the terror of that moment. Things are never as you'd expect them to be.
"Okay, good. Now, Phil, I need you to stay calm and don't hang up. I'm going to talk you through it. The ambulance is already on its way—don't worry. Is he laying flat on the floor?"
"Yes!" I hurriedly replied as I looked Dan over.
"Good. Tilt his head back and start with the rescue breaths. Two breaths and then thirty compressions, understand?"
I did as I was told. It's just like the classes, I told myself as I tried to remember what I'd learned.
Even though my brain was a mess, my muscles seemed to remember what to do and I just followed my instincts. Having a mind of their own, my hands started working automatically on his chest, pushing down hard and in a fast rhythm.
"Come… on…" I whispered harshly, through clenched teeth. I wasn't sure if I was doing the compressions right—I was probably doing them too hard—but at this point we had nothing to lose. I couldn't make it worse no matter what I did.
My eyes were locked on Dan's face, but it was hard to see anything as they kept watering up. I sniffed hard, trying to stop myself. Now was not the time for this. I had to focus; I was the only lifeline Dan had until the medics arrived.
The dispatcher was still trying to talk to me, but my mind was somewhere completely different, working on its own and just concentrating on Dan. My hands moved automatically, as if Dan were just one of the CPR manikins I'd practiced on and this was just another class. If I had time to think, I'm sure I would've been exhausted, but I didn't even have the luxury of thought.
I finally heard our front door being clicked open after what seemed like forever. "In here!" I yelled through strenuous breaths. I glanced up from Dan and out in front of me as three paramedics entered the lounge pushing a stretcher, which held a cardiac monitor and a defibrillator, along with a bag of medication.
Someone told me to move out of the way. After hesitating for a second, I got to my feet and moved towards the breakfast bar. It was probably better to get me out of way—they knew what they were doing much better than I did.
I watched as two of the medics cut open Dan's hoodie before continuing CPR on him. The other began connecting the machines to his chest. I could see that Dan's skin was flushed red where I'd been pushing down.
I suddenly felt sick. Sick to the point of vomiting. My vision began to blur like I was going to pass out any minute, and after a few seconds, my whole body went numb and my fingers started to tingle. My limbs felt like noodles as the adrenalin started fading away.
Without really deciding to, I turned around on my feet, facing our messy kitchen rather than Dan. I couldn't look any longer. It was all too real and too close. Dan could die in the middle of our apartment and it would be my fault.
I placed my hands on the countertop to keep my balance while leaning slightly over the sink in case I got sick. My mouth kept watering up and an unpleasant rising feeling filled my throat.
Closing my eyes, I tried to block out the world and get my mind somewhere else, just focusing on taking deep breaths and keeping it together. I couldn't get sick now. The medics shouldn't be dealing with me too; this was all about Dan.
I jumped a bit as someone suddenly placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Is this yours?" A women held out my phone kindly.
I stretched out my arm unsteadily to take it from her. "Y-yes… Thanks," I stuttered, and clung hard to the phone in my hand, making my knuckles turn a shade of white.
"Your name's Phil, right?" She was talking so calmly that we might as well have been chatting at the shops rather than waiting for the medics to resuscitate my best friend.
"Right." I was still facing in the other direction, away from Dan. My hands were holding onto the counter to keep myself standing.
I heard them use the defibrillator, which made my heart fall to my stomach and my breathing speed up until I could feel my heart pounding in my throat. I was trained to use one of them too, but just the thought of hundreds of volts of electricity surging through Dan's body made me want to cry.
"Can you show me Dan's medication?" she asked.
"Yeah of course." But the voice was only happening inside my head—no sound was coming out. My whole world had turned upside down when Dan stopped breathing. Nothing was working for me and I couldn't control it.
"Phil?"
"Yes," I mumbled under my breath while my body automatically took a step towards the cupboard in which his medication was stored. "Here." I handed her everything, but my mind was blank, like my body was moving on its own while my brain was standing still.
"When did it start? Has he been feeling bad all day?"
"He felt fine this morning. The blood pressure was high, but it lowered throughout the day. Then, he was feeling weird, but—" I cut myself off, not wanting to talk about it. No matter how I turned it in my head, it always came back to being my own fault.
"He hasn't had a heart attack before, correct?" she asked, carefully looking over the different bottles and boxes.
"No, never."
"Is he allergic to anything?"
"No," I answered simply. She gave me a quick smile, turned around, and walked back to Dan and the two other medics on the floor, leaving me alone.
"We have a pulse."
That sentence made me spin around on my heels, back to facing Dan. The lady I'd been talking to was now rolling the stretcher closer while I carefully watched the numbers on the monitor climbing. Dan's chest rose and fell almost invisibly and in an unsteady rhythm, but he was breathing—I could tell from the fog in the oxygen mask wrapped around his head. Besides that, he looked unconscious. I wanted to feel relieved, but this wasn't even close to be over yet.
The medics carefully lifted Dan onto the stretcher along with the machines that were connected to his chest. I nervously stepped closer, unwillingly holding my breath, not really knowing what to expect.
"Let's get going," one of the men announced. I stood, lost, in the middle of the room, just watching as they quickly pushed Dan out while the woman made sure that every used needle and piece of equipment was coming with them.
"Come on." She gave me a friendly smile and guided me out to the hallway, where I put on my shoes and jacket to get ready to leave the house.
"You're sitting in the front seat," one of the medics informed me once we were downstairs and out in the cold afternoon air. It was already slightly dark and the sky was grey, like it would start raining at any moment. Or even snowing.
People where walking past us, looking curious. I laughed silently to myself. The world was just continuing to function as normal, like nothing had happened. But then I didn't know what I'd been expecting—that the rest of the world would just stop just because ours had?
I got into the ambulance, buckled my seatbelt, and waited for us to leave. It was the first time I had to sit in the front and it made me nervous. The times I'd ridden in the ambulances with Dan's mum, I'd always been in the back with him. It was the first time I couldn't look at Dan on the way to the hospital. Maybe he was scared too, or maybe he was feeling too bad to notice my absence.
My whole body tightened as we started driving. It was a lot more terrifying, sitting in the front. True, I was safer sitting in a proper seat, but seeing the world pass by at this speed scared me. We weren't exactly obeying the speed limit.
"Adam, slow down a bit," one of the medics yelled to what I guessed had to be the driver. "He's having another one."
"What?" I mumbled in confusion. I turned around to try to get a look at what was going on behind me, but the people were blocking the way so the only thing I was able to see was the top of Dan's head.
I panicked. He was having another heart attack and I couldn't even see what they were doing to him. I had lost all control of the situation and was relying blindly on people I didn't know.
"Phil, was it?" I heard the driver ask.
My breathing was so sped up that I couldn't really answer him, so I only grunted in response to let him know what he was right.
"What does Dan do? Is he going to school?" he asked calmly.
I had to rack my brain to even remember what he was doing. "He does p-plays. Th-theatre..." I stuttered.
"Theatre? Is he good at it?"
"Hmm..." I breathed out. He was trying to get my mind off the situation by forcing me to talk, but it wasn't really working.
"What do you do?"
"I w-work at a coffee s-shop dow—" But I got cut off by the sound of the defibrillator, making me jump almost a foot in the air. Closing my eyes, I pressed myself hard against my seat while holding onto the sides. It was like being shot, but they weren't even touching me.
The medic continued to talk to me the rest of the way to the hospital, after the others told him that he could speed up. Knowing that Dan was awake again didn't stop me from panicking. His heart could still stop again before we got to the hospital.
After another minute, we pulled over outside of the hospital, and before I knew what was going on, Dan was already out and being rushed inside. Not long after, a nurse came to guide me to a waiting area.
"No, no, I have to go with him," I protested, wriggling myself out of her grip.
"It's not something you want to see," she told me calmly.
"What are they doing to h-him?" I slurred, sounding almost drunk.
"How about you sit down for a bit and I'll bring you something to drink?"
I wanted to protest—scream at her, tell her that I needed to be with Dan. But I didn't even get the chance to move before the door was being closed in front of me, blocking the only chance I had to see him.
They told me to go home—that I couldn't do anything anyway and that they didn't know when he was going to wake up again. I hadn't gotten the chance to see him, to tell if he was okay before I got put in a taxi and sent home to pack a few things that Dan would need. They wouldn't even allow me in the room with him yet.
I stumbled into the flat. The lights were still on and for a second I forgot that Dan wasn't there. It was just like coming home after a normal day at work. I could hear the sound of the television coming from the other room, and everything seemed as it should be.
Drugged by my own thoughts, I slowly continued through the flat and into the lounge. There, was nothing was like it should be. Our duvets were strewn about the floor, along with a glass of water that had been knocked off the table at some point. The carpet underneath the table was crooked and all our remotes were now spread out on the floor. Everything was out of place.
The whole scene fell over me once more and my eyes began to water up, blurring my world in front of me. I didn't even try to stop them this time; I couldn't have, even if I'd tried. And I had permission to break down now that I was alone with my own thoughts. We'd done everything to prevent a heart attack from happening, but it had happened anyway and it wasn't fair. He was only eighteen years old.
Working by themselves, my feet started leading me back out of the lounge. My breathing speed up the more I started crying and it made me feel sick and helpless.
I ran the rest of the way towards the bathroom. I collapsed down on floor in front of toilet just in time to be sick into the bowl. Dan had almost died in this house and I needed to get out of it—it was haunting me. It wasn't the same when he wasn't here, and I didn't have a clue when he would get back… or even if he would get back.
My body was leaning numbly against the toilet, my head resting down on the seat while I breathed heavily, trying to resist the urge to just shut down and sleep for hours. I was exhausted, but I was also meant to be back at the hospital. But I couldn't move. I was shaking all over, which made it hard to focus on anything else besides crying.
I don't know for how long I was sat there on the floor, but it felt like hours, even though it was probably not more than fifteen minutes. I flushed the toilet, wiped my mouth, and forced myself to sit up straight against cold bathroom wall behind me, taking a minute to calm down and get my mind under control. I hid my face in my palms and rested my elbows on my knees, keeping my head up.
I let out a shaky breath, trying to remember what the doctor had told me. I was supposed to call someone when I got home, so I took out my phone from my pocket and dialled my mum's number, not knowing who else to contact.
"Hey Phil," she greeted happily.
"M-mum…" I sobbed, not even trying to stop the tears. "S-something h-happened."
"What happened sweetie?" she asked, changing tone.
"I-it's Dan..." Was the only thing I managed to squeak out. She became silent. My mum knew all too well that if Dan was the reason I called her, it had to be about something serious. He'd been around our house since we were kids and my mum had learned to deal with his condition so that he'd been allowed to stay over on weekends. Dan had even been with us on holiday when we were twelve. He was like another son to my parents, just like I was to Dan's.
"H-he had a—" I stopped to take a deep breath, trying to get my voice under control so I could make myself understandable. "He had a heart attack." I covered my eyes with my free hand and pressed my palm hard against them while holding back sobs. "Dan's at th-the hospital."
"Where are you?" she hurriedly asked me.
"I'm at h-home..."
"And how's Dan?"
"I don't know!" I cried. "He's in a coma, I think… I don't know! Th-they wanted to control his breathing a-and… He wasn't a hundred percent stable yet. And it's all my fault!"
"Shh, Phil. How can any of this be your fault?" She tried to sound calm, but I could hear that she was almost as nervous as I was. She was just controlling it better.
"I should have noticed m-mum! He'd been feeling weird all day but everything seemed fine and I did nothing and then it was too late!"
"You couldn't know it would lead to a heart attack, Phil. No one could. It wasn't your fault. Like you said, everything seemed fine. You couldn't have prevented it."
"But…" I began, followed by a quick explanation of what happened so she would understand. But no matter how I thought about it, it was still my fault. Nothing could change that. I was the one meant to look after him, and I'd failed to do so.
"What did the hospital tell you to do?"
"Go home and pack some st-tuff. Then get back…" I dried my eyes and cheek with my sleeve, hoping I would stop crying. It certainly didn't help anything.
"Do you want me to come over?" my mum asked calmly.
I thought about it for a second, but answered, "No. I'm gonna take a shower and then head back to the hospital as soon as I c-can," I sniffed.
"Okay… Okay, that's fine. You can call me whenever you feel like—remember that. What about Dan's parents?"
"The hospital called them, I think... I'm not ready to talk to them just yet," I explained as I unsteadily pulled myself up to stand.
"That's okay. Do you want me to call them?"
"Yeah... If y-you want." All energy had left my body at that moment, and it felt like I could sleep for at least a year. All my muscles were aching, so just standing up felt like running a marathon.
"I'll call later, okay? Take care of yourself, Phil. Just take it easy. Everything is going to be alright."
It was late evening when I once again pushed the door open to the hospital. My heart was beating in my throat from pure nervousness. I didn't know what to expect or what information I would receive. They'd told me they would call if something happened, and I'd heard nothing all the time I was home. I assured myself that it was because nothing had changed from when I'd left.
I cleared my throat before turning to the lady behind the desk. "I'm here for Daniel Howell," I said, a little quieter than intended because I was so nervous. I had finally calmed down enough to keep it together. Dan had been through a lot already and he shouldn't wake up feeling sorry just because I was crying.
She looked up from her computer and smiled politely at me. "Wait in the chairs over there, then someone will come get you in a minute."
"Okay." I turned around, ready to go to the chairs, but turned back again. A question had been haunting my mind ever since I left a few hours ago. "Do you know if he's alright?" I begged. She probably didn't, but I was burning to know.
"No, I'm sorry. You'll have to wait for the nurse," she smiled again. It looked comforting, but I couldn't help but think that she didn't care at all.
Sighing softly, I walked over to the blue and red chairs to wait.
The seconds felt like minutes and the minutes felt like hours, sitting in the chair. My foot was bouncing up and down on the floor, making my whole leg shake along with it. I had sat far too often in chairs like this, just waiting, not knowing if it would be good news or bad news. But today I didn't question whether it was good or bad; I already knew it'd be bad.
"Philip Lester?"
My head shot up at the sound of my name and I quickly got to my feet.
"That's me." I started walking in the direction of a blond lady in white scrubs. She must've been here last time because she looked familiar. She smiled widely while stretching out her arm to lead me down the hall.
"You're allowed to go see him now, but I have to warn you, it might look a little... extreme," she began.
I'd seen Dan in the hospital multiple times so it was highly unlikely that something could surprise me. But then again, he'd never had a heart attack before.
"He's not a hundred percent stable so we're helping him breathe for a little while until we get his heart rhythm back to normal. We hope that he'll wake up in the morning, but—"
"You hope?" I cut her off, stopping walking. "What do you mean hope?"
"There's a chance he might have some brain damage from the lack of oxygen to his brain during the heart attacks. We can't be completely sure at this point." She drew her eyebrows together, looking truly sorry at me. "The numbers look fine at the moment, Phil. But there's still a chance. We'll run him through some tests when he wakes up, but we can already see that his heart function is down almost fifteen percent and we don't know if it will stay there or go lower… Probably not, but we don't know yet."
I froze in the middle of the corridor.
"We can't tell how his body is going to react to it at the moment. A doctor will tell you more about it tomorrow once we get the results of the blood tests back. Normally we won't let people in here at this time, but we're going to make an exception for you."
My mind was blank. This was a lot to take in at once and my brain couldn't process it all, so I just stopped thinking and started following her again until we reached an open door on our left. The lights were just bright enough for me to spot a figure lying almost naked on top of the only bed in the room.
The familiar beeping sound filled my ears as I stepped further into the dimly lit room. My eyes travelled around it, scanning the different machines. It looked like all the other times Dan had been hospitalised, but a new machine had been added to the others. An oxygen pump was stood beside the cardiac monitor. I followed the tubes with my eyes. The visible tube ended at Dan's mouth and then continued all the way down his throat, helping him breath better than a normal mask could. I didn't like the sight of it, but it was for the best. New tubes had also been added to different places than normal, providing him with medication and liquids. He was almost completely hid behind wires, hoses and tubes.
"I'm going to be right outside if you need something or have questions," the nurse whispered, and squeezed my shoulder quickly as she walked passed me.
"Thank you." I kept my voice low too, knowing full well that no matter how loud I talked, I couldn't wake Dan up. But it felt calming talking quietly anyway, like he was just sleeping normally.
She walked out, leaving the door open and me standing alone. I took a few deep breaths, trying to take in my new surroundings and adjust to the sight of Dan lying stretched out on the bed, both arms, still, against his sides. His chest was covered in blue wires, tracking his heart rate.
I carefully dragged a chair to his bedside. This was probably going to be the longest night of my life, not knowing if he was going to be okay. But no matter what happened, I wouldn't take my eyes off of him before he woke up.
I sat down unsteadily and took his left hand in mine, just to sit back and watch his chest rise and fall slowly and steadily. He looked paler than normal, now that I could get a closer look. Underneath the wires, I could spot blue and yellow bruises from the CPR. A lump formed in my throat; I did that to him.
"I am so sorry, Dan. I am so, so incredibly sorry..." I started tearing up as the words left my mouth. "This wasn't meant to happen to you. N-nothing was meant to ha-happen to you. Ever. And it's all my fa-fault... P-please forgive me."
And just like that, our future was once again blurry and unpredictable.
A/N: bring tissues for chapter 12