Sleep (Phan)

One

It was two on a cold January morning when my phone rang and I answered the call that would change my life and shake my world forever.

"He isn't waking up."

The words echoed in my head.

"You may want to come see him. Any day could be his last."

I refused to believe that. He wasn't going to die. He was strong, the strongest person that I have ever met. He was going to pull through. He was going to live. He had to live.

"Does he have any family? You may want to call them so they can say their goodbyes."

No.

"We will call you again if there is any more news. Goodnight."

I stared at the television set, slowly dropping the hand that was holding my phone and letting it fall back on my knee. What if they were right? They were the doctors after all. What if he wasn't going to make it much longer? I suddenly felt sick and pressed pause on the TV, the frame stopping on a close up of Haru's face. I shut my eyes tightly and turned away. I couldn't look at him. The character that had always been my favorite was now only causing me pain. His striking blue eyes and jet black hair making my chest ache as I thought of my best friend lying in the hospital bed unable to move and barely able to breathe without assistance. I can still hear the loud cry that he let out before the car hit us.

He shouldn't have been hurt. It should have been me. He threw himself over me to protect me and now he's dying. It should be me in that hospital. I should be the one in the coma. I should be the one that's barely holding on by a thread. He's so much stronger than I am, he could deal with the pain, I can't. I need him. I needed him years ago, I need him now, and I will need him in the future. He can't die. Tears began to fall down my face and I stared at my lap. My phone beeped, but I ignored it. No one was worth answering. The only person I wanted to talk to had to be plugged into a machine to keep his heart from stopping. He's the only person that matters right now and if I can't talk to him then I won't talk to anyone.

I pushed my laptop away and took a shaky breath in. I usually spent my late nights on Tumblr or Reddit but this pain was the kind of pain that no amount of aesthetically pleasing pictures or dog videos could even begin to help. I tugged on the sleeves of Phil's Adventure Time hoodie and stood up, slowly walking into his room and sitting down on his bed. It had been a month and a half since the accident and I had still left everything in his room the same. Mismatched socks were scattered across the floor and a pile of jeans sat in the corner. He borrowed my jeans once and they were on the top part of the stack but I left them there, not wanting to disturb a single thing in his room.

I pulled the sweatshirt up over my nose and took a deep breathe, inhaling what was left of Phil's scent. I miss it so bad. I miss him so bad. I would give anything to have him back in our flat. I don't think I have ever wanted anything more than I want that. Nothing is quite as much fun without Phil. Nothing is any fun without Phil. I miss him and I miss making videos together and I miss the mess he would make whenever he tried to make us coffee. I miss his jokes, those fucking puns and lame jokes that I always thought were so stupid are now one of the things that I miss the most about him. I love him so fucking much and I can't even tell him because he won't hear me and even if he did it wouldn't fucking matter because he's dying and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

I choked back another sob as I caught sight of Phil's desk. Sitting in the corner was a picture frame with a picture of us in it. It was the first picture we had taken in our new flat and we looked happy as could be. Who would have ever guessed all of that would change? I got up and walked to my room, not even bothering to change clothes before collapsing down on my bed. I curled up into a ball, hugging my legs to my chest as I cried myself to sleep for the fifth time that week.