It had been a good couple days since Phil's last visit. Dan still wasn't allowed out of the hospital yet, but at least he was allowed his phone to keep him company. He didn't really know what was going on completely, but at least he could finally tell his audience what (the quiznak) was going on. Ever since he had been admitted to the hospital, or just in general dropped off the face of the internet, millions and millions of people seemed to be going on a international manhunt in order to find him. He imagined it had turned into more of a wild goose chase by now.

Some theorized that he was too busy hanging out with Phil to go on social media. Others thought about a new, huge project coming up. And of course the conspiracy theorists just thought he died. For once, the crazies were actually the closest to the truth. He had been thinking it over for a while now, thinking about what kind of media was best to get the needed information out there. Instagram was a big no, people would expect pictures. Tumblr? Too casual a site. He would make a video, but that would have to wait until he at least got out of the damn hospital bed.

Twitter it was then.

Dan sunk into his sheets at the thought of typing out something so sincere, his now messy curls falling over his forehead. What if the community didn't take it seriously? He slid down farther. What if people forgot about him, because he's been gone too long? He slid down even more. What if his fans decided to leave him in the dust, because it was obvious he wouldn't be back for a while? He was now flat on his back, his leg starting to hurt slightly from being at such a weird angle. He quickly slid back up the frame of the bed, prompting a shock of pain to shoot up his arm. This caused him to bite his lip to try and prevent the small squeal from escaping his mouth, but it didn't work. Luckily nobody was around to hear him.

He took a deep breath. Maybe typing out a tweet would help clear his mind. Get him away from thinking about the negatives of his situation and try to look forward at the positives. Yeah, that wasn't going to work. But he at least had to try.

"Hey guys, sorry for being gone for so long. I had something pretty bad happen to me the other day, and now I've been hospitalized. I'll go into more depth in my next video, but until then, be patient! It won't be long before I'm back together again, so I'll update then. Bye!"

Dan knew he was barely giving the event any justice by saying "something pretty bad," but it was the best he was going to get with one free hand and a lack of patience. He laid down his phone on his chest and took another deep breath, closing his eyes. At the very least, time in this bed would give time to think. In fact, nothing but time.

His mind drifted off in a million different directions at once, but he somehow managed to focus down on one memory in particular. His dream. The events slowly replayed themselves over and over again in his head, each time just bringing up more and more questions. Most of which about the end. Was the tree and Phil meant to be taken literally, or symbolically? His first instinct told him the latter, which would bring him more towards thinking about his tattoo. But why now? He had had the tattoo all his life, or at least as long as he could remember.

"But before he hadn't found the person he shared it with."

His mind brought up an interesting point. If everything in that dream was meant to be taken symbolically, then why was Phil yellow? After all, if he was meant to represent his relationship with the tattoo, he would be grey. Right?

The entire situation was hurting his brain, but there was no way of stopping now. After all, what better things did he have to be doing? Nothing. That's the correct answer to that question.

So he thought about it a bit more. What was yellow meant to symbolize? Joy, happiness, optimism, imagination, hope, sunshine, summer, warmth... maybe his brain chose yellow because it was the color that represented him best. Each adjective seemed to describe Phil perfectly after all. He was gentle and compassionate, kind and happy. He always seemed to have something up his sleeve to make everyone around him smile, his endless amount of creativity and optimism practically making the sun shine from his pearly white smile. The world was calmer, warmer with Phil. And a world without him was a world that Dan would never want to live in again.

Suddenly, something strange started to happen. Again. Out of the corner of his closed eyes, he began to see a little flashing light. The light was slow at first, but quickly began to ramp up, turning into a sort of natural strobe light. Dan immediately flew his eyes open in shock, ignoring the pain from his injured limbs from the sudden movement. The light seemed to be emitting from his upper arm, Dan then squinting his eyes to try and focus on it. Of course it was the tattoo.

Dan thought about yelling for help, but stopped himself. He had made a deal with Phil to not tell ANYONE about the state of their marks, and he wasn't about to break that promise now. He instead sat frozen as the outline of his mark flickered and changed like a Mario Party block, his eyes following it as if they belonged to a confused puppy. It then began to slow down again, the light dying down to a light shimmer. And then everything stopped.

Pink. His outline was now pink.

His mind flew back to color symbolism and the meaning behind them. Black was meant to signify something bad, white something good. Grey was a neutral color, yellow being joy and sunshine. Red was an angry and passionate color, blue being a calming and intelligent one.

So what did pink symbolize?

Love.

Phil was pacing again. For the third time in one day. His mind just wouldn't shut down. He had wanted to visit Dan again, wanted to tell him that everything would be ok, that everything would be fine again once he was out of that hellhole.

But even he knew he was full of lies.

He wanted more than anything for that to be true, but he knew that nothing would really be "normal" again until they figured out how to deal with their tattoos. The thing that had single-handedly destroyed their lives, threw them out the window, and stomped on them. Or perhaps "run them over" would be more appropriate.

Phil stood at the side of the couch for a moment before collapsing face first onto it, groaning heavily. What was he going to do?

Buzz buzz.

Phil immediately flipped back over and pulled out his phone from his sweatshirt pocket, blowing his hair out of his face. It was a twitter notification from Dan. Well, at least some things never change. Dan couldn't get off his media for longer than a couple days even if he tried. The man read over the tweet a couple times over, scrolling through comments below it. None of them had any responses to them yet, or at least from Dan, so he took it upon himself to answer them instead.

Most of them went along the same way: "OMG ARE YOU OK? ARE YOU GOING TO BACK SOON? WHAT HAPPENED? WHERE'S PHIL?" Obviously some were a lot less dramatic, but could you really blame them? They had just found out their idol was hospitalized for "something pretty bad" and they won't even know what happened for sure until he heals up. And they don't even know how long that will be. For all they know the tweet was typed by the nurse and the real Dan was in a coma. Nothing could really be confirmed or denied until one of them spoke up.

It was even already marked as a twitter moment. It had been up for 5 minutes and it was already broadcasted to the whole world. Now that was impressive.

Phil's response was generally cookie-cutter, but it was better than nothing. "Dan is going to be ok and back real soon! Don't worry your little heads about it, I'm sure he'll be back up on his feet in no time! Nothing too serious after all :)" with a bit of alterations here and there. Was it all lies? Probably. Would he change that? Not a chance.

His mind drifted back to what Dan had said to him in that ambulance. Dan's mind would have been too fried to have the words come willingly, so what was so important about that phrase that his mouth forced it out?

"Remember the tattoo. Remember the change."

The phrase in general seemed pretty straight forward. The tattoo was obviously referring to the tattoo they shared, the change the mysterious color change of their outlines. Maybe this was supposed to be a hint? But how? Phil groaned again loudly, slamming his head against the couch in frustration. Maybe it was time to focus on something else for a change.

Phil got up from his spot on the couch and stretched, fixing his hair into the usual quiff. Maybe it was time to start being normal again. The man walked over to the kitchen and opened the cabinet, grabbing a box of cereal. He mindlessly finished the rest of the morning ritual, his thoughts drifting off to different places as he slowly shoveled cereal into his mouth.

The day had been going by slowly today. It wasn't even noon yet. Birds still quietly chirped outside their apartment window, the occasional one ramming itself into the glass. Cars flew by on the roads below, angry drivers trying their best to suppress their frustrations on their way to work. Clouds floated by in all their fluffy glory, causing Phil to let out a gentle sigh. For once, the world seemed to be at peace.

His mind floated back to Dan. He wondered what he was up to. Phil got lost in thought as he imagined his friend lying on his bed, bored out of his mind, scrolling through tumblr mindlessly. He imagined that his curly mop would be nearly covering his eyes from him going so long without a haircut, a sight that never failed to bring a smile to his friends and fans' faces. He imagined the way his face lit up with excitement every time he walked into the room, giggling at random memes as he instinctively showed them to Phil from across the room. His laugh was contagious.

As he laid his head down on the table and drifted off, his mind filled with calming and happy thoughts, he didn't even notice when his tattoo began to glow and flash. It blinked between colors faster and faster, the outline almost appearing to swirl. But then suddenly, it was still. Absolutely still.

Pink. His outline was now pink.