Going Solo

Going Solo Part 2

Ant knows instinctively that the next minute will replay in his mind over and over again, after it's all passed. He catches Dec easily enough, and lowers him, his mind shouting how wrong it is that Dec's head is lolling so limply over his arm, his friend a complete deadweight and shockingly unresponsive. He's bleached white, clammy, yet hot to the touch, and Ant's hands shake a bit as he hovers over him, trying to get a response. "Dec? Declan, wake up. Can you hear me? Dec!"

He knows that Jonathan is asking him questions in his ear, but he can't listen to him: his focus is entirely on his unconscious friend. He's beyond relieved when Emma arrives, medical bag ready, and she takes over asking Dec if he can hear her.

He remains totally out of it, and Emma turns to Ant. "What happened?"

"He just collapsed," Ant says, aware his voice sounds panicky and high-pitched. "We were coming off stage and he said he was going to faint, and then he did!"

"It's okay, I think he'll come to in a minute," Emma soothes him, multi-tasking as she checks Dec's pulse with one hand and rubs her knuckles over his sternum with the other. "Apart from feeling dizzy earlier, too, has he been unwell today?"

"He was coughing, earlier. And I don't think he's eaten much either – Dec?"

Dec is beginning to stir slightly, mumbling and then blinking his eyes open. He looks bleary, and a bit confused. "What ...?"

"You passed out, mate," Ant says, gripping Dec's hand as he raises it, reaching out for some kind of anchor. "Gave me the fright of me life!"

"How are you feeling, Dec? Still dizzy?" Emma asks, applying some kind of strip to Dec's forehead.

"Um, a little," Dec replies distractedly, before his eyes suddenly go huge in shocked realisation. "Oh, man – were we on air? Who's up there? Are we still on?" Panicked, he tries to sit up, flailing weakly, but even before Ant and Emma can stay his errant limbs he turns – impossibly – a shade paler yet again and falls back, breathing fast and shallow.

"Woah, woah," Ant cries out. "Take it easy!"

"Easy, Dec, just lie back," Emma says more calmly. "Okay, we need to get him out of here so he can rest with his legs up."

Ant looks around for the first time since Dec passed out, taking stock of the situation in the studio. It's unsettled, to say the least: one of the floor crew has got the choir leader to the front of the stage and is holding a microphone to them, but Alesha seems to be the one who is organising the judges in terms of feedback, and her voice is carrying clearly. The studio audience is restless, though, most of their attention directed towards Ant and Dec, people murmuring and pointing worriedly. They're still broadcasting live, though Ant's sure they'll take a break as soon as they can to organise contingency plans. He realises he's not been any help, and Jonathan has given up talking to him in his ear, but he doesn't care – he can't imagine not being at Dec's side right now, holding his friend's hand as Emma encourages him to breathe slowly and steadily.

She pulls the strip off his brow and looks at it, frowning slightly. Ant watches her nervously, but is distracted by Dec squeezing his hand for attention. "Declan? You okay?" he asks, then mentally kicks himself. Of course he isn't okay: he's lying on the floor of the BGT studio, complexion ghostly, sweat beading at his temples.

"I'm really sorry," Dec says, looking so guilty it breaks Ant's heart.

"Don't be silly, man, it's not your fault."

"Leaving you in the lurch – the whole show, but you especially," Dec says.

"Listen, focus on feeling better for the moment, and we'll talk about the show later," Ant says, reaching out to briefly cup Dec's cheek and comfort him a bit, as he can see the worry and guilt eating at him.