Where Did I Go Wrong? //Phan//

⇻52⇺

I was hesitant to let Phil drive, but he assured me it wasn't that long of a trip. With only a few minor heart attacks we made it home safely.

I felt like absolute shit, but by the looks of it Phil had it a lot worse. I set my needs aside for the time being and assisted Phil to the best of my ability.

He limped on the way inside and muffled a pained scream in the pillow as I escorted him to the couch making him lay down. "Don't move i'll be right back." I instructed.

Knowing what I needed it was just a matter of finding the supplies. I ran upstairs to the bathroom in search of a few items. I grabbed a washcloth running it under warm water for a minute, then continued to search for Advil, plasters, and antiseptic. As quick as my legs would go I scurried down the stairs into the kitchen grabbing a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. With the armful of equipment I set to work.

"Can I lift your shirt?" I asked, sitting down beside the couch in front of Phil's laying form.

Phil looked at me knowingly and winked, "Anything for you bear." He said with a smug look. I rolled my eyes. Ignoring the pink that tinted my cheeks and neck.

I peeled up his shirt looking at his torso. There were deep purple bruises scattering his stomach and chest. I reached down grabbing the cold bag and placed it over the darkest bruise atop of an outline of a lion tattoo. His stomach was littered in tattoos ranging in all size and shapes, and I knew his body contained far more.

Phil tensed at the sudden cold, "shh," I soothed, lightly rubbing patterns onto his stomach. "relax you're fine." I made sure the ice lay steadily atop him and moved on to his face. Several cuts and scrapes littered his face, few were still bleeding while others were contained dried blood.

"Phil? What happened?" I asked.

Phil stayed silent collecting his thoughts for a bit while I continued cleaning and bandaging his wounds. "I- I couldn't bare to watch you being beaten any longer. I stepped in and told them off. They then all turned to me and beat the shit out of me - as you can obviously see." He went on filling me in with details. By the end of our chat my eyes were welled up with tears.

"Thank you." I muttered holding back a sob. I placed the final plaster on Phil's forehead leaning down and -platonically (of course)- pecking the bandage. "No ones ever done anything like that for me." I confessed looking down at the pale carpet.