You Need To Remember - A Phanfiction

Chapter Two

I woke up in a daze. I could see blurry flashes of light, but nothing came into focus. The sounds of sirens filled my ears, and I lifted my head off the pavement to look around. I looked to my right, and saw blood. Lots of it. And Phil.

I scrambled to my feet, running over to my boyfriend. I crashed back to the ground beside him, picking up his head and putting it on my leg. I moved the hair out of his face, looking at Phil's bloodstained face. "No. No no no no. This can't be happening, not to my baby. Not to my Phil," I cried as I tried to wipe the blood off Phil's face.

I looked up to see paramedics start to crowd around Phil's body. They were asking me what happened, but everything was a daze. Tears were rapidly falling down my face, there was no way to stop them. A stretcher was placed next to Phil's body, a paramedic insisting I must move away. After being told a few times, I finally obeyed, getting up and moving a couple feet away. I watching the paramedics put Phil onto the stretcher Phil onto the stretcher, tears flowing down my cheeks, hands covering my mouth, shaking.

When they got Phil into the Ambulance, I also got in and we rode to the hospital. I held Phil's hand on the ride there, not letting go. When we finally arrived at the hospital, Phil was immediately rushed out of the Ambulance and into the hospital. I sped walked to keep up, still not letting go of Phil's hand. At one point, one of the doctors made me go to the waiting room so they could figure out just how bad his injuries were. I held onto Phil's hand for a couple seconds before letting go and running off to the waiting room.

It wasn't until an hour later before I actually knew what was going on. A doctor came into the waiting room, and called me to follow him. We walked to Phil's hospital room in painstaking silence, with tension building. The doctor finally stopped in from of room 28 and opened the door. I slowly walked in and saw Phil laying there, almost looking dead, his face paler than normal, blood staining his face and clothes, bandages everywhere, especially around his head. I turned to the doctor, wanting to know what was happening.

"He sustained some pretty bad injuries, but the ones we are worried about are with his head. When he was hit, we think that when he fell his head was first to make impact with the ground. This caused a severe inflammation in part of the medial temporal lobe in the brain. We could do surgery, but there will be a problem when he comes out do surgery." The doctor looked at me with eyes of pity.

"What is it? Please tell me it isn't that bad, that Phil will be okay?" I pleaded.

"He'll be fine, it's just that the medial temporal lobe is the part of the brain that processes memories, and if we remove it, there is a 80% chance that he will lose a lot his memories. If he does lose them, he could still possibly regain these memories, but we are not sure how long it will take, or if he will be able to regain them in the end." The doctor looked at me with those same pitiful eyes, as if my dog just died or something. "So, should we still do the operation?"

I started to pace around the room, my hand over my mouth, mumbling to myself what to do. If I don't let them do the operation, Phil could die, and if they do the operation, he'll most likely lose a lot of his memories. Possibly a lot of the memories with me. But the doctor said the memories could be regained over time. I think the answer was obvious of what I needed to do.

"Do the operation. I want my boyfriend back, whether he remembers me or not."

The operation took 3 hours, and for me they were painstakingly long and full of tension. At times I would get up and pace around the room, not being able to sit still. When they finally called my name I was relieved. The doctor told me that Phil was awake and just resting in bed. We walked to the room, and walked in. I looked at Phil, who had a big bandage around his head.

"Hi Phil," I said nervously, my heart beating rapidly. Phil's face turned to me, and looked at me in confusion.

"Who are you?"

"You don't remember me?" I hoped to God it wasn't true.

"No." It felt as if my heart had shattered. I shouldn't have been as surprised as I was, I knew this was going to happen, I had just really hoped it wouldn't. I had hoped I could just take Phil home and cuddle with him in the couch, never letting him go again. But now Phil saw me as a stranger, and I just didn't know how to react. I held it in as I walked toward Phil's hospital bed.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I'm Dan. And I-I'm your boyfriend." I faked smile, hoping that he wouldn't react badly.

"You're my what? I didn't know I was gay." Phil moved backwards at the slightest, as if wanted to get away from me.

"Well, actually you're bi, but that doesn't matter. And yeah, we've been dating for a couple years now. You really don't remember any of it?" Turns were burning my eyes, but I refused to let them go.

"No. Actually, I don't remember anything but a couple child memories and that's it." Phil looked down at the bedsheets.

"We actually also own a flat together, and I could help you remember. You know, help you remember your favourite things and stuff like that." I looked at Phil, worrying he might not want to come back with me, a man he doesn't remember anything about.

"Okay. Help me remember."

A/N:

Okay well I am actually becoming kind of confident with this story. I have everything planned out with this story, but I probably not going to be able to upload Chapter Three tonight, as it is almost 2 in the morning and I should probably go to bed soon. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and there will be more to come!

Also, yes I literally did look up what part of the brain controls memories. All for a Phanfiction. Idk. I'm weird.