Sighs and Fire (Phan AU) (INCOMPLETE)

(1.19)

It was all making sense to the nurses now, they had said. Now they understood why the heart had changed structure and why Joseph had a higher blood pressure than what he should've done. Now they understood why the heart failed like it did, leaving them with no options left.

They could've given him treatment to support the body but that would just prolong Joseph's dying process and I know that's not what he would've wanted. So I sit by him, trying to keep myself together because I'm afraid that if I start to cry, I won't stop.

His so-called friends are in the waiting room. They're refusing to leave until I let them have their goodbyes but I want to do mine first. When Phil and my mum join them, I shut the flimsy curtains around the bed so we can have some privacy and I sit on the edge of the bed, taking Joseph's hand in mine. In any other situation he would've furrowed his eyebrows and given me a questioning look before starting to laugh and I'm aching, wanting to sacrifice anything to see that again.

I know that's not happening so I take a couple of minutes to watch his chest steadily rise and fall, knowing this is last time I'll watch him breathe. It won't be long until the lungs shut down but I hope he passes before he has to go through that.

"Hey," I say gently like I'm wanting to softly awake him from a nap. "It's Dan," the air catches in my throat and I inhale deeply and then breathe out slowly, remembering the mindfulness classes I had to take for my anxiety a couple of years ago. Now that the moment is here, I don't know what to say. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you're lying there when it should be me."

I shouldn't have gotten a lucky pass through the drug stage of my life - I hurt people, I hurt my family, people who loved me - I didn't deserve one.

"You were so good to me when I asked you to be. There's probably still some secrets you're carrying, aren't there? Both mine and yours? You were such a good brother to me when I was an addict, why didn't you let me do the same?" I can feel the frustration beginning to build up inside me. "God, I should've noticed. I went through the same thing. Guess it didn't help you knew how to act and cover it up, eh?" My voice is beginning to shake. "You shouldn't have done that. I could've helped you, you know I could've. Why didn't you let me in and tell me what was going on?"

My mind goes back to all the times I cancelled on going back home just because I was so loved up with Phil. Phil this. Phil that. Maybe on one of those occasions he was going to tell me, because I remember the build-up when I had to tell him: the sweating, the shaking, the heart palpitations, the racing mind and then the unstoppable urge to say the words, just to get them out and off my chest. Maybe he had built up all that courage for nothing once.

"You should've told me. Why didn't you? You know I would've understood better than anybody." I want him wake up and give me some answers so I don't have to spend the rest of my life wondering what I could've done instead so that he'd still be here. And maybe instead of being in a hospital he'd be in a rehab in the middle of nowhere and it'd be painful for the three of us but he'd still be alive and have a foreseeable future ahead of him. "When did it all get out of control? When did you decide to keep it a secret?" I'm crying now and there's no stopping the tears that are falling like heavy rain.

I didn't believe in God, or any kind of god, but now I wished I did just so I could've prayed to him and maybe he would've given me a sign that Joseph was hiding something. Then again, what kind of god would make us go through this?

"I should've noticed and I didn't and I'm sorry," Now I'm wishing Phil was here to hold me so tightly that it stuck all the broken pieces of me together. "I love you. Did I ever tell you that? I probably didn't, we both thought love was pretty gross..." I laugh, remembering the time I came back home after meeting Phil for the first and telling Joseph all about him. He had a look of disgust on his face while I was blushing and gushing over the boy I just met. One day you'll understand, I had said.

I remember about his other half that he'll never meet, the letter they would receive and my heart breaks for both of them and it feels like it's just sunk down to my stomach. I think about all the opportunities I won't get to see as a brother - the look on his face when he opens their gifts, watching him stress out the night before he met them for the first time and hearing him talk about them after.

"I love you. I should've told you that before along with a million other things... But I love you, unconditionally. You're loved. You've always been loved. Is that why you didn't tell me? Were you scared I'd walk away from you?" I wipe my nose on my sleeve. "You should've known I never would've done that. We would've gotten through it, together."

I exhale. My breath shudders.

"Look at what you've done to me, Joe," I laugh weakly, wiping away the tears. "I don't know what else to say," I admit, watching his chest rise and fall again. "Can you hear me?" I blurt out. I feel my cheeks go hot and I'm embarrassed. "That was stupid, sorry," I can barely hear the noises from the rest of the ITU ward, it sounds like they're a million miles away. "Hey... I won't be able to be here, when you go, I mean. I won't be able to stand it, I hope you understand," I take a deep breath, my voice beginning to shake again. "I'm sorry."

I look at his face and bite my lip, trying to remember the last conversation we had so I could try and ingrain it into my memory. That's what people did when they lost someone, right?

"This is it, I guess," but I can't tear my gaze from Joseph and suddenly I don't ever want to leave. "I couldn't have asked for a better brother. Well, you were a bit of an idiot, really, but you were okay I guess," I imagine him rolling his eyes and I smile a little. "Goodbye, Joe," I lean forward and kiss him on the forehead. "I love you than you could ever know."

I squeeze his hand, and then turn it over and feel for his pulse on his wrist. I don't know why I've done that to myself, because it's weak and irregular and it tears me apart. I stand up, my legs shaking and I can't bring myself to look at him once more before leaving.

When I walk through the ward to the waiting room, I wonder if you can see on my face that I've lost someone. The nurse who's been looking after Joseph gives me a small smile and I wonder if she knows we're going to lose him soon, and if she'll go home and cry to her own family over my brother, the patient she couldn't save. I can't bring myself to smile back when it feels like there's a gaping hole in my chest.

When I go into the waiting room, Phil is already standing, biting his nails and when he comes over to me I collapse into his arms, exhausted and just let him hold me.

I don't remember when Phil got me to sit down, or when my mum left to say her own goodbyes, but after what feels like a lifetime she crouches in front of me and puts a hand on my arm.

"Dan," she says softly. I look up and meet her eyes - there are tears in them and she's gone a sickly grey colour again. And in that moment, I know what she's going to tell me and I don't want to hear her say it, but she says it anyway. "He's gone."

And then she's crying into my shoulder while I cry into my sleeves and Phil keeps his arms wrapped around me tightly, the sound of his breathing a reminder that I wasn't alone and that I never would be.