For Phil {Completed}

Eleven/Epilogue

"Dan, are you okay?" Okay? Okay? I was going fucking mad. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Was all of this because of a stupid doctors appointment? Some stupid checkup? Am I so fucked up that a checkup I've been to three times before makes me physically and mentally sick? Before I could answer myself or Phil, I was balling and falling to the floor, Phil following me. I was curled up in his lap, him holding my hand and combing my hair with his fingers.

"Shh, bear, I promise it'll be okay. I'm with you every step, you know that. Forever and ever, I will be here with you," he comforted me, brushing my hair and whispering sweet nothings.

"Dan, baby, your appointment is in an hour, we need to get ready," Phil said. We'd been cuddling on the couch for almost an hour after my outburst, Phil continuously pushing me to eat something.

"Come on, Dan, please? You need to eat something, especially before this appointment. What would you like, you can have anything you want." I had shook my head, making him sigh. I could tell how frustrated and sad I made him, so I agreed on letting him make me some toast, which I still had only taken one bite out of.

"Okay," I mumbled, getting up so I could get dressed.

"And, Dan, you know I'm going to have to check your clothes for any extra weight, okay? It's not that I don't trust you, it's just, the hospital makes me, okay?" Phil asked.

"Yeah, I know, Philly," I said, smiling before walking off. I put on a loose t-shirt, loose because it was Phil's and I was a skeleton, and some black skinny jeans before straightening my hair.

"Okay, you're good. Thank you, Dan," Phil said after searching me clean. I sighed, hating that I had to do this. Phil must have noticed, because soon his arms were around my waist and I had my head nuzzled in his neck.

"I know you don't like this, bear, but if it goes well, it just might be the last one you have to do," he said, making me feel better. I nodded before he pulled away. "But, it can't go better if you don't eat your toast." I let out a breathy laugh before nodding and eating my toast, sending us out the door for my appointment.

"Alright, Mr. Daniel Howell, correct?" The doctor asked as he stepped into the room. He was different than my regular, being a tall and buff man with a husky voice and muscular forearms, with greeny-yellow eyes that uneased me.

"Um, yes," I responded. "I don't mean to seem rude, but, um, where is Dr.Nickles?" I questioned, wishing I had my normal doctor as I would be more comfortable.

"Oh, right, I'm sorry, he had a family emergency that he had to attend to, so I had to fill in. I hope that is okay?" I nodded before he said "Sorry for the inconvenience," and shuffled through some paperwork. I waited, sitting on the weird paper covered table all the doctors rooms possessed, Phil sat right next to me, holding my hand.

"Alright, let's get started shall we?" He sat in a tell wheely chair, stethoscope around his neck like every typical doctor. I nodded, a cue for him to begin.

"Good. Now I'm just going to have you step onto the scale here," he said, standing and gesturing to the scale in the corner. I looked at Phil, and all he did was nod and squeeze my hand, allowing me to hop off the table with him close behind, only letting go because it would mess up my weight.

"Alright, weight looks to be 144.6 pounds. That's an improvement. Last year at your last appointment you were at 121.9 pounds. That's a gain of 22.7 pounds." This statement made me want to throw up, knowing how much weight I gained in that time. I looked at Phil and he seemed to be able to tell, because he took my hand and led me back to the table, where I sat through the doctor checking my eyes, nose, ears, and reflexes.