#bc they’ve been experiencing congestion too

[mars-ipan]

pleaseeee for the love of god don’t let me be sick…

[arborists48-blog]

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[nihilismdan]

one more spoon of cough syrup now.

word count: 2647 warnings: none summary: The three times that Phil takes care of Dan when he's sick and the one time that he doesn't. a/n: under the cut.

a/n: so basically i’m sick, and on my way to get the things to kick this cold’s butt i was like, why don’t i write about it? so i did. and i didn’t have a beta bc it was gonna be short and sweet. i tried. hope you enjoy!

i.

2009.

“You’re sick a lot, aren’t you?” Phil says, putting a small pillow on his thighs and Dan lays his head against it, staring at the TV playing. He had almost cancelled visiting Phil, but he wanted to come anyways because it had been a long time since they last saw each other and he missed him and things at home were shit and he felt like if he didn’t get out of the house he’d go crazy.

“My body just hates me,” he sniffles again, he hasn’t been able to taste anything the past couple of days and it’s been torture. Phil rests a cold hand against Dan’s forehead and it feels good. His eyes close for a moment and he sighs a little. This was good. This was worth the long hours on the train, even the nausea he was feeling earlier.

“My mum used to baby me a lot whenever I got sick. She’d come home from work and bring me a candy bar and some medicine and then she’d rub my back,” Phil speaks half mindedly, his eyes are to the screen, they’re watching reruns of Buffy, well Phil is, Dan is just experiencing the second season now. Dan’s eyes droop but he smiles, though it’s a bit sad.

“My mum just told me to rest and every once in awhile she’d maybe bring me soup. She wasn’t that much of a nurturer growing up though.” He got more nurtured when he was with his grandmum, she would come over if she heard he was feeling sick with biscuits and a special kind of tea that she had gotten from Morocco on her last trip, while he wasn’t sure that it would exactly help it was still a nice thought that she’d come all the way over and make Dan feel comfortable. It was more than what his mum did. Yet he couldn’t really blame her, Dan wasn’t an easy to child to love when he was sick. He was needy and often thought about the worst possible scenarios of his sickness even though it was more likely a common cold.

“If I had known you back then I’m sure my mum would have loved to take care of you,” Phil smiles down at him although he’s not really paying attention, the medicine had finally kicked in. He can tell he’s asleep by the small little noises he’s making which is quite cute for Phil. His hand rests on his shoulder and he rubs his hand up and down his arm since he seems cold but he doesn’t want to move because he’s afraid that he’ll wake Dan up.

It’s the moments like these that he cherishes, while Dan is up at all hours there are times when Dan has fallen asleep over Skype because his body couldn’t handle it and Phil just sits there, afraid to leave in case Dan woke up and thinking that Phil left. That was the main thing -- he didn’t want him to wake up alone. From what he knew about Dan is that he was alone a lot of the time, not that he directly told Phil this but he spent a lot a time alone or at work or waiting at home for Phil to come home so they could talk, and Phil didn’t want to be another person that left him alone.

He hears more sniffling and then a cough.

“Thanks, Phil,” he can hear Dan faintly say, it’s small, and he knows that he’s probably fast asleep again but it makes Phil feel warm inside.

If Phil’s only job was to take care of Dan the rest of his life he’d be pretty okay with that. Even if it’s just offering a safe place to sleep.

ii.

2012.

“How do you feel?” Phil sits down on the couch across from Dan and he is sniffling as he plays Skyrim. He’s wearing the same shirt for the past couple of days and hasn’t bothered to leave his room much other than to get food and water. Phil wants to help but he doesn’t know how, the air is tense nowadays but Dan doesn’t look that great and he’s paler than Phil.

“Like shit,” Dan’s voice doesn’t even sound like him as he sniffles again, rubbing his sleeve against his nose and sniffing with a cough to follow. “It feels like there’s a bunch of pressure in my forehead and it makes it hard to see sometimes- if that makes sense?” he looks at Phil again and shakes his head.

They haven’t talked much, they don’t communicate that well, at least lately, and Phil kind of misses his best friend but given the circumstances he understands. It felt nice having Dan out in the living room even if it was playing videos games in a shirt that he’s worn the past few days and hair that desperately needs to be washed. Though Phil admires his curly hair he hasn’t gotten to see that in a while.

“I’ll make you a cup of tea,” Phil says, getting up but really he just is trying to find something to do. Dan just killed someone in the game and he cheers a little but it’s followed by another cough.

“You don’t have to take care of me Phil,” Dan says as he goes to the kitchen and Phil shrugs. He’s right. He doesn’t have to take care of him, the way that Dan’s been acting lately he doesn’t deserve it but he wants to, not because he has to.

He remembers a long time ago the numerous times that Dan would curl up against Phil when he was sick, wanting to be touched and held for those brief moments because the lack of it from his mother or just generally needing some kind of warmth against his cold body, he remembers those conversations that were said over the course of one to five in the morning, when the coughing was so great and the heaving, and all Phil would do is just rub his back a little, and tell him the first story that popped into his head, and Dan would say, “That’s nice, Phil,” and mean it. Nowadays there’s always some sort of sarcastic remark and a smile that’s not all too warm but patronizing.

So, no, he doesn’t deserve the tea, but it’s the only way that Phil can help. Those tiny little strings of miscommunication and a little bit of anger won’t repair itself so Phil has to be the first one to make the jump.

He leans against the counter as he waits for the kettle and if he remembers Dan’s tea preference it’s one sugar and a plop of milk. He grabs his favourite mug and then lets it steep.

By the time that Phil gets the tea ready and decides to add biscuits as well Dan is curled up on the couch and asleep. So he places the tea and biscuits by the coffee table and grabs the blanket and wraps it around him. Deep down Phil knows that while sometimes they don’t talk to each other or fight, at the end of the day they’ll always be there for each other, even when it doesn’t seem like it. He likes to think that if Phil were sick he’d do the same. He doesn’t really want to think about it though.

The tea will eventually get cold and the light from outside will eventually go, but Phil will sit in the lounge with him watching a rerun of something on the telly until Dan eventually wakes up. And maybe he’ll encourage Dan to take a shower and wash his clothes for him.

iii.

2014.

Dan doesn’t have much of a voice, they’ve been communicating through a whiteboard and sometimes Phil swears Dan’s cough shakes the entire apartment. They’re meant to be working on the book but Dan needs a few days to get better and Phil understands. He’s lying on Phil’s bed with his phone on a pillow by his head and he’s curled up, shivering a little. Phil gets into pyjamas and lays down next to him, grabbing the remote to the television and turning it on and lowering the volume. Dan’s back to him but he can feel him stir and turn over, his front facing Phil and he places a cold hand on his forehead and Dan moans a little.

“You’re always sick,” Phil’s voice is warm and honey, his thumbs massage across Dan’s temple, and swirls his nose.

“What are you doing?” Dan asks faintly, a hand settling on Phil’s stomach.

“My mum used to do this to me as a child. Whenever I couldn’t fall asleep she’d rub her thumb against my forehead and nose and for some reason it always helped me sleep,” Phil had a story for everything- his memories are always fond ones of his mum and dad.

He drops his fingers and continues watching the telly.

“Well go on, why’d you stop?” Dan asks, his brown eyes peering up at Phil.

It had seemed that Phil was always teaching Dan something. Whether it was physical acts of love that he was taught growing up by his parents, or the art of patience and understanding during times that were particularly hard for both of them. They had grown up a lot since the last time Dan was incredibly sick. And even then it had never stopped- the taking care of him. While Phil often got sick after Dan it was never to the great extreme of Dan and often pushed Dan away when he was sick because of pride or because he didn’t want Dan to think that he was incapable of taking care of himself regardless of how dumb it sounded.

Phil chuckles, his thumb connecting freckles like constellations and maps- while Dan’s skin was blotchy because of being sick he was still the most beautiful boy he had ever seen, even when he was like this. He knows Dan isn’t asleep, but his eyes are closed and he knows that he’s enjoying it. He’s giving back to Dan the pieces of his childhood and he hopes that one day when they’re ready Dan will give back what Phil had taught him to a child one day.

“You are quite needy when you’re sick,”

“Shut up.”

iv.

2017. 

Phil had been denying that he was sick until eventually he had given in and cancelled a liveshow because of it. He couldn’t get out of bed because the room would spin and his head felt like there was something pressing up against it, dying to be let out of it’s cage. Perhaps that was a bit dramatic but it was the first thing that he could think of, whatever in his head being some kind of bird, but really it was just congestion.

Dan had errands to run, or at least that’s what he said, but Phil thinks it’s because he didn’t want to get sick either, which was fair- whenever Dan got sick it normally was a long time until he started feeling better while Phil normally bounced back fairly fast. He hadn’t done much- he tried to read, and then he tried to get on his laptop, but both made his eyes hurt so he was mostly just curled up under the sheets and trying to think of possible video ideas for the future. Somewhere along the way he had fallen asleep. When he woke up the sun was setting and he could hear the telly.

He had sweat a little in his sleep and was a little bit uncomfortable but if he moved he didn’t want to fall. He huffed a little and laid there, sometimes checking his twitter feed or catching up on what his friends were doing on facebook.

He had heard the door opened and Dan had a tray of soup and a cup of tea and some biscuits and he placed it on the available space that they had in the room, he sat at the edge of the bed and placed a hand against Phil’s forehead and removed some hair out of his face while he was at it.

“Unfortunate for you, I’m always warm, sorry,” Dan had chuckled a little, getting up and grabbing the tray. “I can confirm that I almost dropped it bringing it to you but that’s because I have long stick arms and tripped over my sweat pants a little but you know- it’s fine.” Dan had stirred the soup a little and lifted it to Phil’s mouth.

“Are you really feeding me?” Phil had made a face and Dan shrugged.

“I’m giving the people what they want,”

“Okay- but there’s no cameras. You’re so weird,” he had taken the spoon of soup and then shook his head. “I get that it’s supposed to be romantic, Dan, but I really don’t trust you to balance that and feed me at the same time,”

Dan had made a face and gave it to him to feed himself, “Fine,” he got up and grabbed the tea and held it with two hands and for some reason it was the funniest thing for Phil who laughed watching him hold it like a child with his big hands.

“I’m sorry,” Phil had cleared his throat, “I appreciate it though,” And he did. After all those years of him taking care of Dan the roles had reversed. Over time he had gotten over the idea that Phil had to be the one to take care of Dan when Dan was perfectly capable, in a way it was like he was trying to make up for those moments that Dan didn’t get to have from someone who loved and cared about him. It had been so long since that first time in 2009, they were different people, and they had grown in a way to where they were equals instead of Phil just being The Older One.

When Phil had finished the soup and drank the last drop of tea Dan had gotten changed into his pyjamas and Phil had gotten under the covers and Dan had pulled Phil a little bit closer to him. Someone had asked Phil once what Dan had smelled like- and the only answer that Phil could really think of was warmth. He was the embodiment of warmth, whether it was the little crinkle in eyes, or his dimple, or the little rosy part of his cheek, or the freckles splayed across his face, or the way that Dan held him, it was warm, and inviting. And many times felt like coming home.

Dan had rubbed Phil’s arm up and down gentle, sometimes his nose pressed against the side of his head, and Phil was in the place between half asleep and half awake, mainly because he liked being held- and he liked being taken care of. What surprised him was when Dan had started to rub his thumb against his temple and forehead, it had made him unbelievably happy that he had remembered -- but of course he remembered. He remembered everything.

Phil listens to the sound of Dan’s hum out of habit, and the telly is still playing in another room but it doesn’t matter.

“You know, you’re pretty good at this,” Phil mumbles into Dan’s side.

Dan can’t help but smile a little. “Yeah, I learned it from a guy,”

And Phil makes a joke that he must have been a pretty cool guy with cooler hair, and Dan gets a pinch because he said that it was alright.

In a couple of days Phil will feel better, there will be liveshows, and coffee, and bickering, and snacks in between, but for now- if only for a few moments, time stops and there’s nothing but warmth and an empty mug. And it’s okay.