Phan One-Shots (boyxboy)

43. Fight Me

My family had a long history of athsma, heart problems, and bad immune systems. And I had managed to inherit all three of those.

I was now stuck with an awful chest infection, it made it very hard to breath and I had been told that it could stop my heart.

So for now, I lay in a hospital bed, my eyes closed as my old nurse and doctor pushed me through the halls, bringing me to my new room.

"Janet, could you check his vitals please?" The doctor asked.

"Yes, Doctor Spenning." The lady let go of the bed, keeping up with us as she checked my breathing and my vitals. The doctor rolled me into my new room, pushing the bed into it's spot. Immediately the nurse put an IV in my hand and an oxygen mask on my face.

"How are you feeling, Daniel?" She asked, looking down at me as she checked my breathing once again.

I opened my eyes, scanning over her face. "Better." I said through the mask.

"Good." She gave me a soft smile, patting my shoulder. I heard her fiddling with something on the table beside me. She lifted the mask off of my face, telling me she was going to replace the mask with a cannula, which was a fancy term of saying that she was going to shove a tube up my nose so I could breath.

I let her, and it itched at first.

She checked her clipboard one last time and looked over at me saying, "I have to go back to my designated floor. Another nurse will come and check in on you as soon as possible." I nodded.

She left, and about 10 minutes later a small headache had formed and I was rather bored from the lack of communication.

The door clicked, and a man walked through.

He wore blue scrubs and a large smile. I assumed he was my nurse but damn, he was hot. He had dark black hair, which I assumed wasn't natural when I noticed how his eyebrows were a much lighter colour. He had stunning blue eyes, so deep and rich in colour you could swim in them. He was also very pale, and only a few freckles dotted his face.

"Hi, Daniel. I'm Phil and I'm going to be your nurse." He said. His voice seemed rather posh, though I could sense a hint of northerness in his accent. "Is it alright if I call you Dan?"

I snapped out of my gazing trance, letting out a loud exhale through my nose. "Y-yes, Dan is fine."

"Awesome. I'm just going to check your breathing and your blood pressure and then I'll be out of your way." Phil said, setting down his clipboard. He grabbed the stethoscope, putting it on my chest and moving it every few seconds.

Once he pulled it away, I decided to speak up. "That's the third time they've checked my breathing." Great job, Dan. You sound more rude and demanding than questioning.

Yet Phil laughed, smiling down at me. "Yeah, it's kind of unnecessary. I have to check anyway." He said. He then checked my bllod pressure and vitals and left, leaving me with my own thoughts.

About an hour or so later Phil came back. His hair was a little messy. I had removed my pillows and put my bed all the way down so I could try to sleep, but I didn't succeed. My pillows were now covering my chest and face, yet I left a hole so I could see.

He reached over and removed one, looking down at me.

"I have to check your vitals again." Phil said in a slightly teasing tone.

"Fight me." I said meekly. He chuckled, setting down his clipboard and taking the pillows off of me.

"Maybe later." Phil did as he needed, writing something down on his clipboard and flashing me a wink before he left.

I sighed, putting one of the three pillows under my head and choosing to lay on my side, being careful not to pull the IV or cannula out, and shut my eyes.

I didn't realize I had fallen asleep until I woke up, hearing the shuffling of a peeson beside me. I opened one eye, realizing I wasn't on my side anymore either.

I squeaked and jumped back to see that I was face to face with Phil.

He had no reaction at all aside from the few words he said, "Sorry, Dan. Did I wake you?"

"N-no," I lied, feeling the cold stethoscope once again on my chest.

"I have to change the IV." Phil said, pulling it out of my hand. He replaced it like he said and before he left I said another quiet 'fight me' which then turned into a troublesome coughing fit.

He had then turned around, standing beside my bed and waiting for me to finish. I struggled to breathe, trying to take in sputtering breaths that served nothing for me. The cannula wasn't even doing anything.

I felt the tube be pulled out of my nose and a mask was placed over my face like before, and with a small hit to my chest of a hand that wasn't my own, the oxygen passed through my mouth and nose.

I saw Phil's concerned face staring back at me, adjusting the strap on the mask so it would hold tightly in place.

"Are you alright?" He asked. I was confused at first from the amount of concern that laced his voice, though when he turned away to check the oxygen tank that I was hooked up to, I figured it was just him watching out for his patient.

"I-I'm fine." I stuttered, taking in deeper breaths.

"Good. I was worried for a minute." Phil replied with a joking tone and I smiled a little. He turned to me one last time, moving my fringe away from my eyes, giving me a half smile, and leaving.

I lay in my bed, listening to the constant beeping of the machine beside me. I tried to fall asleep again but I couldn't. I had no clue what time it was, but suggesting by the lack of lighting both in my room and outside, I figured it had to be either late at night or early in the morning.

I never fell back asleep then, and thankfully it wasn't late into the night or else I would have had to lay there for 7 hours waiting for the sun to rise. At around 8 am I heard my door open and I hoped it was Phil.

It was, and he had a cup of something from the gift shop on the main floor in one hand and his clipboard in the other.

"Good morning." He set the cup on the table beside me.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Your mum was going to bring it up to you but she mentioned how she had to get to work. I told her I was coming up here and offered to bring it." He said. I could tell he looked tired from the bags under his eyes but he didn't show it.

"Oh. Thank you." I said. He checked my breathing and vitals, something I was getting used to, and decided to replace the mask once again with the cannula. "You look very tired."

"I am." He replied immediately. "I wish I could go home and sleep. I get to leave at lunch."

"That's good." I sighed to myself, though it was not as much to myself as I thought when I saw that Phil reacted to it with a careful glance. "Are you going to be back?"

"Tomorrow." He said softly.

"Oh." I tried to look away but I felt as though I couldn't. "You're a good nurse."

"You're a good patient." His eyes seemed to glaze over with a caring look and I couldn't help but wonder; 1. if he got this invested in all his patients, and 2. why his hand was on mine.

I guess he hadn't noticed because when he left it simply fell to his side, instead of making sure to hold onto his clipboard.

I let my eyes flutter close, allowing my emotions to calm themselves down. I would have been lying if I said my heart wasn't beating 20 times a minute when he had looked at me like that.

I reached over to the mug, looking at the tag and making a mental note that it was a peppermint flavoured tea.

I turned the cup around in my hands, noticing some neat writing done in black marker.

"I won't fight you until you call me ;)" and below it was a phone number. I knew only one person who had writing like that, as I had seen it on Phil's clipboard.

I set the mug back down, smiling to myself as I put the number in my phone.