*3 Weeks Later*
"It's time to start the chemotherapy," One of the many doctors in the room said. They all watched Dan expectantly, awaiting his response.
"No," He said certainly.
They all paused for a moment, then all burst out talking at once.
"You have to!"
"It's the only option!"
"It can help!"
They all talked until one of the head doctors pulled Dan out of the room.
"It's completely up to you and your family what you want to do, but we strongly recommend the treatment. Again, you can choose whatever you like, but the treatment is definitely what we suggest," said the doctor.
"Okay," Dan said. "I'll talk to my mum about it and we'll come back or call in a few days with our answer."
The doctor nods and they go back in the room.
Grabbing his mother's arm, Dan leaves the hospital. The whole ride home is silent, which shocked Dan, because he was sure his mother would have had very strong opinions about the topic at hand. Maybe she just respects my choice, Dan figured.
He should not have been so quick to assume.
Once home, Dan tried to sneak off to his room but his mother started in on him immediately. "Why would you not take the treatment?"
"Because," Dan said. "I have my reasons."
"Daniel James Howell!" She slammed her hand on the table. That table would not last very long if she kept up with the hand-slamming act. "I cannot believe you are refusing this treatment. You're going to die if you don't get this treatment! Can't you see that?"
"Whatever, Mum," Dan said and left for his room, trying not to make the pain he was in obvious; he didn't want to give his mother more of a reason that he should do the chemotherapy.
Dan slept until dinner, attempting to avoid the thought of the inevitable discussion that was bound to occur.
But, of course, it was the first topic to come up at the dinner table.
"Wait, wait," Dan's brother said, setting his drink down. "What does Danny not want to go through with?"
"Chemotherapy," Dan said.
"What?" Adrian exclaimed. Dan and his mother looked at him, stunned by his reaction. Setting his hands in his lap, Adrian continued. "Sorry. Why? What for?"
"Because," Dan shouted, standing up from the table. "I've done research. Hardly anybody survives the type of cancer I have and the chemotherapy generally does very little for it! I don't have to do it if it's not what I want! I don't see the point in spending this family's good money on something that won't pay off rather than putting it towards something that actually matters!"
"You life matters, Dan!" His mother shouted, also standing.
"It doesn't matter! There's no point! There isn't anything we can do about it!"
"Dan, you should do it," Adrian said quietly, contradicting the volumes of Dan and their mother.
"No!"
"You must have a death wish if you don't want to do it!" Mrs. Howell said.
"Yeah," Adrian chimed in. "It's practically suicide."
"You may as well be dead if you don't want to give anything a chance."
Having had enough, Dan left to his room, tears streaming down his face. Before he even realized what he had done, he had already hit the call button for the contact on his screen.
He picked up after two rings. "Hello?"
Dan only cried into his phone.
"Dan? Dan, are you alright?" Phil's words were riddled with concern.
"No."
"I'll be right over." Dan heard the creaking of Phil's bed as he stood up.
"No," Dan said. "No, can I please go to you? I need to get out of here."
"Of course," Phil said. His bed squeaked audibly as he sat back down. "See you in ten minutes?"
"See you soon."
Ten minutes later, Phil opened the door before Dan even had a chance to knock.
Leading Dan up to his room, Phil asked what happened.
"Well," Dan said as he laid backwards on Phil's bed. Phil did the same. He walked Phil through the day since the hospital. Phil only listened, occasionally nodding his head when it was appropriate.
Turning on his side to face Phil, Dan asked, "Phil, what should I do?"
Phil turned on his side so they were facing each other. Dan could feel his and Phil's breath colliding between them.
They were very close.
"I think you should do it," Phil said.
You may as well be dead.
You may as well be dead.
"Why?" Dan didn't want to believe Phil would think what Dan himself didn't want to.
"Because, I agree with your family," Phil stated.
You may as well be dead.
"So you think I should be dead?" Dan sat up.
"No," Phil said, eerily calm as he sat up to be eye level with Dan. "That was terrible for them to say, and it's definitely not true; you may survive. I want you to do the chemotherapy because I care about you."
"If you cared about me, you would support me with what I want to do with whatever life I have left." Dan crossed his arms and looked down, not wanting to see whatever emotion was on Phil's face.
"I do care about you; that's why I want you to take it. We might have even longer together if you do." Dan looked back at Phil to see him with a sad smile across his face, nearing tears.
"But, Phil, I like my hair," Dan said in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Phil smiled and opened his arms, into which Dan gladly crawled.
"Me too, bear, me too."
Word count: 928
