Endless || Dan Howell x reader (sequel to Unbroken)

Fifteen~

I sighed again, turning on the faucet and splashing some cold water on my face. It might not have helped with the slight hangover and crippling depression I had, but at least it woke me up a bit.

I looked down at the silver band around my finger, the ring had been dinged and scratched beyond belief. It looked so different from when I first put in on my finger.
Everything it's been through, the one time I got it stuck in the garbage disposal, the few times I lost it while doing the laundry. Everything it's been through, and it's still amazing, perfect. Just like my (y/n).

Suddenly, I heard a crowd of people rushing past the bathroom door. Machines buzzing, people yelling, my heart dropped to my stomach as I thought the worst. I pushed the door open and rushed down the hallway, trying my best to keep up with the doctors and nurses.

As they all hurried down the hallways, I followed at a distance behind them, knowing I probably wasn't supposed to be in that part of the hospital.

The group turned into a room just down the hall in front of me. I jogged over in front of the closed door and looked in the small window, hoping to see what or who they were all rushing to.

The breath I didn't know I was holding flooded out of my mouth as I saw an old woman lying on the bed. I almost felt relieved for a second, but then remembered that Hazel was still here somewhere. I decided against looking for the room she was in to avoid getting thrown out, and went back to the waiting room.

I sat down in the red chair next to my stuff, tapping my foot on the linoleum flooring while staring at the clock on the opposing wall. What was merely minutes seemed like hours until Phil finally showed up.

Phil quickly stumbled through the entrance of the waiting room and looked around before his eyes finally landed on me. He made his way over before taking the seat next to me.

"Have you heard anything?" Phil asked nervously, never breaking eye contact with me, even for a second.
"N-no, they wouldn't let me go back with her. I haven't heard anything since-- since I got here." I told him, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands.

Phil didn't say anything in reply, or anything for the next hour or so that we were waiting for that matter. I couldn't think of anything to talk about, and no way could I defend myself for this. There was nothing to defend.

Every time I looked in Phil's direction, I couldn't tell what he was feeling. Almost twelve years of friendship and this was the first time I felt clueless.

I heaved a heavy sigh as I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling and the fluorescent lights above me.

The guilt and nervousness were eating away at me, devouring me like a hunter does its prey. The only things could do were wait and pray to any and every god that everything would be fine. It was at this time a doctor came down the hallway and towards Phil and I, and it was at this time my prayers would either be answered or shredded to pieces.

Phil and I stood up as the doctor neared us. They had a clipboard in their hand and were flipping through the pages before looking up at the two of us.

"Which one of you is the father of Hazel Howell. . ?" They questioned, looking between us. I felt my stomach drop as I answered.
"Th-that's me," I said, raising my hand from my side, "is she o-okay?"