Phil's Point of View
Dan had admitted to having feelings for Phil.
Dan loved him.
Phil couldn't believe it. It was almost like those FanFictions their subscribers posted on Tumblr all the time. It was a lot sweeter than in fairytale stories. No, the way Dan told Phil was most definitely like a FanFiction. Dan admitted his feelings, he kissed him, and then they spent the rest of the night kissing. It was truly magical.
Well, it was until those kids came and demanded they get out. He couldn't believe it! They were so mean, and they couldn't he more than 13 or 14 years old. They even hurt Tyler and Troye! What sick kid beats up some guys? It might be the zombie apocalypse but still, there's no need to go and hurt others who are minding their own business.
And then there was Tyler and Troye.
They were beyond anything Phil could imagine happening. Tyler was the worst of the two, obviously from the fact that he heard him wincing and groaning every time he tried to move in the night. It put a terrible feeling in Phil's stomach. You know when you feel like you could throw up, but it was kind of just stuck and had this terrible lump in your throat? Well it was like that but worse. Phil almost puked a couple times in his mouth because it was just guy wrenching to know how much pain his friend was in and he couldn't help. He was kind of happy that Troye wasn't making those sort of pained noises aside from the occasional pained wince.
Before Sun up, when they planned on traveling, Dan and Phil had decided to go and gather anything they could find to possibly make Tyler and Troye more comfortable. They got really lucky and found some change of clothes and some clean water. When they woke the other two up and told them what they found, Phil had never seen such a look of relief and joy on Tyler or Troye's faces. They looked like they were offered immortality or something along those lines. It did take awhile for them to clean up (they water was rain water that was in a metal trash bin. No one complained. The clothes were just Dan and Phil's extra change of clothes) but that was alright. It gave Dan and Phil time to talk.
"I feel really bad," Dan said, looking down at the pavement.
"It's not your fault, Dan. Neither of us knew what happened. We just figured they were okay." Phil reached out to hold Dan's hand. He squeezed the other's hand, trying to reassure him without letting him know he felt the same. He felt guilty about what happened and blamed himself for not going to look for them. They should have went out to search. They should have went out and maybe, just maybe, they would have found the two and saved them. Instead, they were selfish and let this happen to their friends.
When the two cleaned up and rejoined them, they decided to ditch the van and keep moving. That seemed to be the only way to survive: keep moving.
If you get comfortable somewhere, you're more than likely to die. Zombies don't move fast, so it's easy to our walk them, but now that they encountered another group of people, moving to new places regularly was going to be the only way they lived. If they don't keep moving, Phil didn't know who or what would get them first; the zombies or the corrupted living.
Phil was slightly relaxed half the time. He was able to hold Dan's hand as they traveled, and Dan seemed more comfortable to curling up to him when they slept at night. He didn't know if Tyler noticed since he was one of many who wanted "Phan" to be real for so long. Phil didn't bring it up since they were still recovering.
Even though they were recovering (all of them actually), that didn't seem to stop the world from throwing another obstacle at them.
Two weeks after the warehouse raid and they were on the run from zombies, again. They were trying to go to a hotel that was relatively close, but of course, a horde found them. This time, instead of the easy walking ones that took eight minutes to walk two feet, they encountered a group with a lot of runners.
Phil's heart was beating so fast he feared it would beat out of his chest. He could see Troye and Tyler in front of him, and knew Dan was right beside him, but that didn't stop the fear of being attacked going away. It took one slip, one anything and Phil would be zomblunch. It would take anything to make anyone of them zomblunch, which scared Phil even more.
What if something happened to Dan?
No, he didn't have time to think about that. He couldn't think about Dan falling. He couldn't even picture it. He had to keep going and hope, pray, that nothing happened.
Not that the squealing and blood curtailing screams of the zombies behind them helped. The best way Phil could compare their screams was close to the the sound of tires squealing to a stop as a child screamed, with the faint sound of someone blending fruits in a blender in the distance. Not that zombies sounded like cars, but it was similar to the sound of the car's breaks suddenly stopping and the tires stopping suddenly on the pavement. Phil was happy that cars didn't run anymore because he would probably vomit by just the sound of one starting because he would picture this moment.
Which turned more traumatic in a matter of seconds.
The squealing and screams got closer and Phil, sweet little Phil, misplaced his foot. One small misplaced foot, one in which cause his other foot to hook under his heel and trip him, sent him grumbling forward. He felt his right cheek hit the asphalt first, scrapping it. He knew it would bleed later, but the next thing the felt was claws. It wasn't like cat claws, those tiny little bean paws shoving tiny, sharp claws into your arm. No, Phil could only imagine these as claws like a dog's, sharped to the point to where it could cut like a razor blade. These claws dug into his back, like a grapple, and Phil screamed out. It was a mix of agony and fear, along with a hint of distress.
It hit Phil the minute the claws dug deeper into his skin: a crawler was on top of him. This pack was a mix of crawler zombies (their definition of crawlers are zombies that can run, climb and jump. They have talon like claws that rip flesh off anything) and runners. Phil couldn't move, mostly because he didn't want his back skin to be yanked off his back, possibly exposing his spine and inside back muscles. This could be the end. There was no way to help him now. The pack behind him would surely-
There was a bang from a gun, a ripping and snapping sound above him before he was being yanked back up onto his feet and told to run. Phil didn't realize his eyes were filled with tears until he realized he had no idea where he was running to. He could only feel the blazing wounds on his back and the hand in his hand. He hoped it was Dan, but he didn't know. He hoped Dan hadn't just left him for dead. Dan loved him, right? He wouldn't leave him to be killed.. right?
But his ankle hurt too. It sent sparks of pain racing up his leg. As he was being forced to run, it felt like his leg was going to lock up, and he would collapse again. He didn't want to fall, so Phil just kept telling his brain, "we have to keep going. Ignore the pain. Keep running for Dan."
Dan needed him. He needed Dan. He only kept going because Dan. Dan kept going because of him. Forward was with Dan, and falling was abandoning him. He wasn't going abandoning him.
What felt like a million years was close to only twelve minutes. Twelve minutes of intense pain until they found a place. It was the hotel they were trying to reach. When they got inside, Phil finally just collapsed. The satin rug felt so cool against his street burned cheek. He heard furniture and stuff being moved, shouting and banging. Something was happening but Phil was losing his consciousness. His envisioned swirled. He could barely make out the image of Dan's face close to his. He could barely hear him shouting, "Phil! Phil, just hang on! Please, Phil, hang on! You'll be okay! Please!" Phil thought he made it up, but it sounded as thought Dan's voice was breaking when he shouted please. Dan did save him. He just had to keep hanging on until Dan said he could sleep...
Sleep.... Sleep sounded so good. Phil wanted to sleep.
He hardly noticed when the sound of shoving furniture ceased and he only heard voices around him and the sound of fists banging on unbreakable glass. He didn't even know he was rolled onto his stomach and his shirt yanked off. His brain could barely make out sounds around him.
"Tyler, go grab a water bottle from my pack or somewhere. I don't care!"
"On it!"
"Troye, I need tweezers or something!"
"I have a pocket knife-"
"That's fine just give it to me!"
There was silence and shuffling. Why did Dan need those things? Water and knives don't mix.
"Don't worry Phil, you'll be okay. I promise. I'll make it okay." Dan's voice was soothing, like he was coddling a child, but then he began shouting again.
"Tyler! Find me a needle and thread. Floss will work too!"
Remember the burning feeling of the cat claws running across your skin and leaving a stinging feeling? That was the only thing Phil could feel on his back, but a thousand times worse. It was like having hand sanitizer poured into a paper cut all over your body. Phil screamed, a scream worse than the first. He felt cool metal dig into the spots where he guessed were the places the crawler grabbed him. It had to be the knife Dan wanted. What in the name of-
"Troye get a clothe or something! Fast, please!"
Something warm was trickling down the side of Phil's ribcage. It was warm and was drying, and it itched when it started to dry. Again, he felt the knife dig into him and more warm stuff running down his side. Someone was trying to wipe it away but he doubted it was helping. Was he going to bleed out?
Phil was losing it again, just thinking about losing all his blood while Dan tried to save him. He had to hang on but how? It was getting so hard to just think straight.
Phil's eyes began to close. Images from the past played across his vision.
Images from when Dan and him were recording "A Day in the Life of Dan and Phil" where it was Christmas. They were decorating the tree. Dan looked so happy...
Easter baking and making the chocolate baskets. He couldn't believe he got Dan to wear the bunny costume for the video. He blushed and called it stupid about a million times, but in the end he wore it. He looked so cute and even cuter when he put the flower crown on.
Millions of seconds passed, allowing Phil to relive to happy moments before majority of the pain on his back faded and a genle hand was rubbing his shoulder. Phil tried hard to listen to he voice, because someone was talking.
"Phil, Phil you're okay. I fixed it. You're okay. Just relax and hang on.. please hang on.."
Phil searched his brain to find something to say. He had to say something to let them know he was okay. It was as if English wasn't his first language because he had no idea what to say.
Phil decided to say the one thing he could remember to say.
"Love... you.. Dan.."