Incompetent (phan)

Chapter 39 - D

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Phil's POV

"I have Tyler Oakley's Test results."

I started axiously chewing on my lip in anticipation and Troye actually sat up.

"But," the doctor continued and I had a sudden urge to slap him. "We must reveal them to the patient first and visiting hours are over, so you will find out tomorrow."

"You're fucking kidding me," Troye said, and I looked at him in shock. "I don't get to know if my boyfriend, the love of my life, is going to live?"

"Visiting hours are over," the doctor said, giving us all a fake sympathetic look.

Dan shrugged. "You can let us through, anyway, right?" He asked, rasing an eyebrow.

"I mean--"

"Right?" Dan interrupted, clearly wanting a specific answer.

The doctor's eyes ran over Dan's clearly expensive suit. "I guess," he said, shoulders falling. He picked up his clipboard and flicked through the papers. "He's in the left wing, follow me."

We all walked behind the doctor, Connor, Cat and Louise in front, and Dan, Troye and I behind. 

"Thanks, man," Troye said to Dan, although his expression looked far from apreciative.  "I owe you one," he spoke as we approached the room.

Dan only smiled and shook it off, as the doctor opened the door and let us all in.

The sight simultaneously shattered me and relieved me. Tyler was hooked up to about a million different machines and there seemed to be many needles in his arms, a few linked to clear tubes and a few linked to tubes with blood in them.

But he was sitting up against the headboard, looking normal and as happy as he always did, albeit with a plaster on his forehead. His bright eyes were alert and easily moved past me to focus on Troye.

"Troye," he exclaimed.

"Tyler?" Troye stood staring at all the different medical equipment hooked up to his boyfriend.

"Come here," Tyler said, and we all watched as Troye slowly shuffled towards the side of his bed.

"You're okay?" Troye asked, breathing heavily as he pressed his forehead to Tylers.

"I'm fine. I'm okay."

And Troye let out a long sigh of relief.

"I mean, I have an ugly ass plaster on my forehead and no one will feed me--"

"I swear to God, if you ever scare me like that again," Troye scolded, looking genuinely angry.

"I'm sorry," Tyler said in a baby voice before finally connecting their lips. They were so obviously in love, it made me kind of jealous. Just watching them talk to each other felt too intimate. I looked away, desperately wishing I had that kind of relationship.

The doctor cleared his throat and awkwardly looked down at his clipboard. "Do you want to hear the diagnosis?" He asked doubtingly.

"Yes," I quickly answered before anyone else had a chance to say something.

"Tyler are you comfortable with everyone in this room hearing your diagnosis?"

Tyler rolled his eyes, before firmly answering, "yes."

"Well, we first conducted a series of tests. We did some blood tests, an electrocardiogram, a few x-rays, a coronary angiography, radionuclide tests, a linear accelerator, a CT scan, and many MRI scans."