Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

-Fall Away

Chapter 1

There seemed to be a certain gloominess that hung in the air that monday. Dan realised that the second he woke up, and knew that today was going to be worse than usual. He got up, put on his usual attire that consisted of a black hoodie, black skinny trousers, and some beat up dark grey vans. Looking at the clock, he noticed he was already late for school, as class had already started a half hour ago, and decided to take the extra time to straighten his brown hair since it wouldn't matter that he would be even more late anyways.

He skipped breakfast, because one, he had barely had any food anyway, and two, he needed to save money for this month's rent. Also he just wasn't hungry. As he has passed the mirror on his way out, he stopped for a moment and took in the sight of himself. He had but deep bags under his dull brown eyes, his clothes were loose, and his cheeks were sunken. Sighing, he left his small flat, and put his earbuds in as he started on his semi-long walk to school, and about halfway there his earlier suspicions were confirmed as it started raining.

"Damn it," he muttered as he started walking faster. He made it to his school after another fifteen minutes of walking, and by the time he made it through the doors and into the office he was soaked.

The office assistant looked up as she noticed his presence, and a look pity fell upon her features, which Dan absolutely loathed. He mentally rolled his eyes as she handed him a green late slip, and he walked out of the office and to his second class, math, which just so happened to be on the other side of the school.

He took a quick glance down at the tattoo on his wrist. Everyone had their own, each unique in their own little ways, but Dan couldn't help but think how fitting the words of his happened to be.

Suicide.

It was just one word. It seemed so simple, Dan thought to himself as he continued walking. But the thing was, it wasn't just something simple. That word described everything Dan's shitty life had been leading up to. And though he knew there was a date accompanying the word, he couldn't see it. But how he wished that mystery day would come already.

|-/\-|

Maybe the day wouldn't be as bad as he had originally thought, Dan mused to himself sarcastically as he walked into his second class right as the bell rang. His seat was taken by none other than the king of the school himself, Charlie Skies, who just also happened to dedicate himself to being Dan's personal bully.

Taking a deep breath, Dan walked over to the last open seat which coincidently, just happened to be right  next to Charlie.

Dan took his notebook out of his bag, along with a pencil, and stared off into space out as the teacher started rambling, thinking of new things to draw.

About five minutes into the class, the first waded up note came from Charlie and landed on Dan's desk, breaking him out of the little trance he'd slipped into. He opened up the note, the words "fucking sissy" written in big, bold letters.

Sighing, he wadded  the paper back into a small little ball and rested it on the corner of his desk, making a mental note to trash it later.

A few minutes later, another wadded paper ball landed on Dan's desk. Then another, and another, until there were at least ten. Dan ignored them all, only giving them minimal attention when he had to brush one off his notebook.

Dan thought the mini onslaught of notes was finally over after Charlie had stopped for about ten minutes, but of course, he was wrong. Suddenly, he was hit on the side of his head with an extra big wad of paper, and for some reason, it was in that moment that his mind decided to snap.

"Would you please stop!" Dan said angrily, quickly turning to face Charlie, and as a result also drawing the attention of several people.

"Mr. Howell!" The teacher barked, upset at the interruption. "Please do not disturb the class again or I'll see you in detention tomorrow."

"Yes, sir..." Dan replied quietly, lowering his head to the desk. He took a quick side glance at Charlie, only to see him shrug and smirk.

Oh this was going to be a long day.

|-/\-|

Once the bell finally rang, Dan made a quick dash out the door, all of his stuff already in his backpack save for his notebook. He made it about ten steps out the door before he heard another person following directly behind him.

He sped up, his panic rising a little, but in the end it turned out he wasn't fast enough as he got shoved sideways into the lockers. He felt something pop in his shoulder, and as he fell he also dropped his notebook, which landed a couple feet away from him.

"Hey faggot," a voice that undoubtedly belonged to Charlie snarled as he was yanked up by the collar of his shirt and shoved back into the lockers, this time being held upright.

"That was cute, you bursting out in class," Charlie said, his voice taking on a sickeningly sweet tone. He took a handful of Dan's hair, pulling him forward before shoving him back into the lockers again. "Actually it was pretty funny seeing you get in trouble with the teacher for what, the third time this week?" This time Charlie opted to take his hand that wasn't viciously holding Dan's head back and punched Dan in the gut.

Dan felt the wind get knocked out of him, and his body wanted to double over but couldn't because of Charlie's hold on his hair. Instead his arms went flying to hold his stomach, which was comfort enough at this point to Dan.

Dan tried to catch his breath as Charlie leaned in close next to ear. His eyes darted around the hallway, desperately looking for someone to help him, but everyone just continued to walk past them as if nothing was happening.

"Why are you still here?" Charlie whispered, before breaking Dan's arms away and kneeing him in the stomach. "You not doing anyone any favours, I mean seriously, you're just a massive burden on everyone here." A kick to the shin. "Face it Howell, you're just a waste of space."

Dan's head was smashed into the lockers once again, and his vision darkened over for a couple seconds before everything came back into focus a little blurry. He mentally swore that the lockers had to be made of titanium if there wasn't at least a small dent in them from that.

He was pulled forward one last time by his hair, before he was kicked in the stomach and thrown to the ground like a rag doll. Dan curled in on himself, and watched as Charlie picked up his notebook from the ground. He held just above Dan, taunting him.

"I think I'm going to have a look through this, and I'll get back to you at lunch." Charlie smirked as he walked off, the bell ringing at the same time.

Fuck, Dan thought as Charlie disappeared with his notebook, leaving him there. 

Once Dan was finally able to get back on his feet he grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and made a quick dash for the bathroom. Luckily they were empty, and Dan rushed into the stall farthest from the entrance of the bathroom. He locked the stall door, and dropped his backpack onto the floor. He closed the toilet lid and sat down on it, reaching into his bag and taking his earbuds out. He put them on and plugged them into his phone, and started playing the first playlist that showed up. As soon as the music started playing Dan felt better, but he still felt that annoying little urge poking at him.

Reaching back into his bag with his left hand, he pulled out a pocket lighter, and flicked the cap open. Flames burst to life with the small motion, and he smiled as he watched the small flame dance. He rolled up the sleeve of his right arm and slowly lowered the lighter to his skin, the pain nothing to the rush he felt as the flame burned him.

This was what made Dan feel like everything was fine for once.

|-/\-|

Chapter Text

-Screen

Chapter 2

Dan waited until the bell rang for break, which was about thirty minutes later, before packing away his earbuds and his lighter. He unlocked the door of his stall and went to leave the bathroom, but as he reached for the handle of the door, the door flew open and ended up hitting Dan in the head, which caused the pain Charlie had managed to inflict earlier to spark up once again.

He fell ungracefully to the floor, landing on his butt. He rubbed his head as the person who knocked him down quickly knelt down beside him, asking if he was okay as the door closed behind them. Dan looked up to only to see Phil Lester, the only boy just as, if not more, popular than Charlie. In fact, the blue-eyed and black-haired boy was Charlie's boyfriend, which along with his peppy attitude and contagious smile was probably why he was so popular.

It was then that Dan realised he hadn't said anything yet, and responded with a quick "I'm fine" before attempting to push himself up. Phil stood up as well, and as Dan tried to take a step away he started falling again. But this time, Phil caught him before he could make contact once again with the floor.

"Yeah, um no offence but you don't seem fine," Phil laughed, helping Dan get steady on his feet.

"Well is anybody?" Dan spoke before he could even process his words. He looked away from Phil as he felt the other boy's gaze on him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, just forget it," Dan muttered, as he tried to leave, but he was stopped by Phil grabbing the sleeve of his hoodie.

"But I want to know," Phil asked. Dan turned to look at him, only to be met by the gaze of two curious blue eyes.

Sighing, Dan shrugged out Phil's grasp, and turned around completely to face to other boy. He concentrated for a moment, trying to string together the right words to properly explain what he wanted.

"Is anybody really ever 'fine?'" He decided to say.

"Um, well yeah, most people?" Phil answered, confused.

Dan looked at the boy with a sad smile. "Really?"

"Yes?"

This drew a small laugh out of Dan. "Oh Phil," he sighed. "No."

With that, Dan turned and finally left the bathroom, leaving Phil.

|-/\-|

(These next parts deserve a massive trigger- I'm sorry. Stay alive please, you're worth it

Dan was able to make it to fourth period, and by some miracle, fifth as well. As the bell rang at the end of fifth period for lunch, Dan took his time and made his way through the crowds, intending to go to the theatre where he usually spent his lunches, but as he was walking he suddenly felt a hand wrap around his throat and another fist collide with his side.

He was thrown to the ground, and soon after there was a foot resting on the small of his back.

"So," Charlie began, "I took a look through your little book, and let's just say, I wasn't impressed."

Shit, Dan thought.

Charlie lifted his foot and stomped it back down on Dan's back, causing a small cry to rise from Dan. "I saw all of your little drawings," Charlie stated, lifting his foot and kicking Dan's side. "All of your little poems." Another kick. "Little rants or whatever." A harder kick. "But what interested me the most, though, Howell, was the drawing you did of my boyfriend, Phil."

What? Dan thought. He couldn't remember ever drawing Phil. The first time he'd ever talked to the boy was back in the bathroom, but Charlie didn't have to know that. Speaking of which, Charlie leaned down far enough so that he could hold a paper out in front of Dan. On the paper, of course just happened to be a perfectly sketched picture of Phil.

It was then that Dan remembered. He had drawn that during his first week of freshamn year. He'd seen Phil in the hallway, and for some reason decided to draw him.

He saw Charlie smirk as the recognition dawned on his face. "Little sissy," Charlie uttered. The next thing Dan knew Charlie was standing once again and there was a foot coming down on Dan's back. He was being turned over as Charlie straddled him, and landed punch after punch on his chest, face, arms- pretty much everywhere. By the time Charlie was done, Dan could blood in his mouth and he was having a hard time opening his right eye fully. He also couldn't feel his right arm, and was pretty sure he had at least a couple broken ribs.

Through his blurry vision, he could see Charlie smirking, before he felt himself being lifted up and onto Charlie's shoulder and was being dragged somewhere. Dan could hear the sound of a door being opened as he was brought into a new room, and was thrown against a wall. He felt his pants being torn off, and thought he heard Charlie whispering something, before he felt a new kind of pain he'd never imagined.

|-/\-|

Dan woke up to the sound of the bell ringing, and the first thing he felt was the splitting headache. The next was the rest of the pain that completely consumed his body. He could only open his right eye half way, and couldn't feel parts of his right arm. He was having a slightly hard time breathing.

Using his left arm, Dan tried to push himself off the floor, and barely managed to keep himself upright by grabbing the sink. The he realised his pants weren't pulled up, and that's when the presence of dried blood and cum became noticeable. Dan let out a small cry, and reached to pull up his pants.

After that he cleaned himself off to the best of his ability, washing away any visible blood and heavily scrubbing . Then he made the mistake of looking in the mirror. Unlike that morning, when Dan could just casually look in the mirror and feel nothing, this time he felt hate. He hated himself; he hated his clothes, his hair, his face, his eyes, his shoulders, his height, his weight, his sexuality, his personality, everything. He hated himself to the very core. This time looking in the mirror, he felt hate. He felt disgust.

Suicide, Dan thought. That was how he was going to die. And at this point, it didn't seem all that bad. He could finally leave. He could be free, free from the pain, the sorrow, the hate. He could be free from his mind. His demons.

Dan reached down into his bag, and pulled out his iPod, looking at the time and seeing it was halfway through sixth period. Art. Art was Dan's sixth period. A perfect way to end my last shitty day at school, Dan decided. Art was his comfort.

He put his iPod away in his bag, slung his bag over his shoulder, and made his way to sixth period.

|-/\-|

After Dan gave a quick excuse to the about why he was late, Dan grabbed his canvas from the cupboard where everyone kept their "works in progress" and made his way to take a seat in the very back corner of the room. The picture Dan had drawn on the canvas was of boy with headphones on, and the head was smeared slightly to give the impression of a person with no face, or a blurry face. He had done the entire drawing with charcoal.

He took out his charcoal pencils to add the finishing touches to the drawing. Only couple minutes later, Dan heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor next to him, and looked to his side, only to see that the one and only Phil Lester was now occupying the previously vacant seat next to him.

"We never got to finish our chat earlier," Phil stated, giving a small smile. "You kind of, um, walked out..."

Dan nodded, and replied "Guess I did. Sorry."

"So what did you mean? Nobody's ever 'fine?'"

"It's hard to explain, Phil. Or at least, to people like you. I'm sorry."

"But why? What more is there to it? I want to understand, please? And what do you mean 'people like me?'"

Sighing, Dan disregarded his canvas, and turned so that he was once again completely facing Phil. "People like you," he began, "People who seem to have the best lives anyone could ever be living. People who constantly radiate happiness. People like you. It's hard to explain, because you usually don't feel sadness, unless it's something like your fish just died. But then, there's others. Everyone else. People who have a deep feeling a sadness, of self hatred, and everything of the like. Everyone else. In that case, nobody's ever really completely and truly 'fine.'" Dan ranted.

Phil sat there, looking stunned. Because of which part of Dan's little mini rant/speech, Dan had no clue. He sat patiently, waiting as the other boy absorbed all of the information. Finally, Phil started nodding minutely, and Dan took it as Phil understood. But as the other boy still stared off into space, Dan joking waved his left hand in front of Phil's face as a gesture to get the other boy's attention. He did, and he saw a smile play upon Phil's. But as he did so, his sleeve rolled up just slightly, and he just noticed Phil's attention shift to his wrist, eyes widening and Dan realised Phil was looking at his tattoo.

Dan quickly yanked his arm away, rolling his sleeve back down. He quickly gathered his things, putting them away, and as the bell rang Dan jumped up from his seat nd made his way out of the school.

|-/\-|

This was it.

It was all going to end.

All the pain, all the hurt, all the hatred...

He wouldn't have to deal with anymore.

Everything was running through Dan's head all at once, everything that had been leading up to this. And the one thing that kept plaguing his mind was his image in the bathroom mirror earlier.

He could've sworn he heard footsteps following him, but Dan paid them no mind as he continued walking. Instead of taking the route he normally used to go back to his flat, Dan took the path that would lead to the bridge.

Chapter Text

-Fake You Out

Chapter 3

The sun was close to setting by the time Dan made it to the bridge. For the entirety of the walk, Dan felt numb. Even the pain he had felt earlier somehow seemed to vanish. Dan felt as if he was floating, like the whole world was falling away from underneath him and he was the only one in existence.

Oh how much better Dan's life would be if that was real.

He looked up at the just now appearing stars that started painting the sky, along with the long streaks of orange, red, and golden hues. He looked out at the river that ran under the bridge, the water of the river seemingly stealing the colours from the sky and entrapping them within the rough currents of the waves.

Sighing, Dan hoisted himself and sat down on the ledge of the bridge, setting his backpack down next to him. Reaching into his backpack, Dan pulled out his trusty lighter. There with him in the beginning, and now the end, Dan thought. He flipped the cap open and watched as the little flame burst to life for what he presumed to be the very last time.
Unnoticed tears streamed down Dan's cheeks as he lifted the lighter to the middle of his vision, holding it above the river and watching as it became more contrasted against the quickly darkening sky. With a strangled cry and a shaky hand, Dan closed the cap of the lighter, the flame that was there just moments ago becoming nonexistent.

He packed away his lighter once more, and set his backpack down carefully on the inside of the bridge, making sure it wouldn't fall. Once he was sure his bag was secure, Dan stood back up on the ledge, his footing unsteady as he was shaking.

As he took one last look over what would soon be his grave, Dan finally became of the tears falling full force from his eyes. Letting out a small sob, Dan took one step forward. Then another, and another, and finally he was on the very edge. One foot hanging off, and now all Dan needed was to let go.

Taking in a long deep breath, Dan completely cleared his mind, and let go.

That was it.

That was all it took to end his pain.

He would finally be free.

But then a hand grabbed his arm, and yanked him back into the chest of the person who had "saved" him.

"Please, don't go."
|-/\-|

Dan froze, his entire body seemingly just shutting down. He was so close. He was there. How much of a fuck up could be to the point where he couldn't even kill himself properly.

He couldn't even die right.

"How are you feeling?" The man who'd brought Dan down from the bridge asked.

Dan knew that voice. To hell if he didn't.

Slowly, Dan turned around to face the person who was still holding Dan in their arms.

He saw the bright blue eyes first. Then the mop of black hair, and then the strangely styled button up and black jeans and holy shit.

Phil. Phil fucking Lester had been the one who had saved Dan.

Looking into the concerned eyes of Phil, everything came rushing back. The hurt, the trauma, the pain- both physical and mental. And oh boy was the pain something new.
Letting loose a scream, Dan fell to his knees. The pain consumed him, wrapped around his conscience like a chain link, making it the only thing he could feel.

He realized he was still screaming, and through his fog of pain and confusion Dan could've sworn he could hear Phil panicking, could feel hands grabbing at him and shaking him
and holding him before his world went dark.

Finally, the pain subsided a little, the numbness from before retaking control over him.

Once again, he was floating.

And only then, was he free from the world.

|-/\-|

Chapter Text

-Addict With a Pen

Chapter 4

He was dead, damn it.

So why the hell was he still feeling the same pain he'd felt before?

Of course, it was duller now, but still. He was definitely still in pain.

As he started waking up and became more and more aware of his surroundings, he realised that he was lying down on something soft, and comfortable. A bed, he deduced. But it definitely wasn't his. Dan's bed was hard, and cold, and most definitely not as comfortable as the one he lay upon currently.

After about another minute, he could start hearing voices whispering from somewhere.

Then he opened his eyes. Groaning, he lay still while letting his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, and moved his gaze around the room, taking in his surroundings completely. As he started to remember the events that had taken place prior to him waking up, just by looking around, Dan had inkling as to who this room belonged to. Dan took a (not so) wild guess and presumed that it was Phil's room.

Other than that, brightness of the room just so happened to be the first thing Dan noticed. And no, not just brightness as in there was a lot of light. Brightness in terms of the colour and décor (and yes the lights as they were actually pretty bright too.) The room just seemed to radiate this type of happy aura. The blanket of the bed he was laying on was designed with a blue-green checkered pattern, while the walls were painted white. At least, the parts of the walls that were visible. Every other inch of said walls were covered in posters of bands, games, and movies. There were little knick knacks that lined the bookcases and shelves in the room as well, like little plushies or Pop! anime figures.

To be honest, it looked like the room Dan would've dreamed of having as a kid, but a complete contrast to his actual room now back in his apartment. His room had the bare minimum. A bed, a nightstand, a broken lamp, his alarm clock and a practically empty small bookshelf. Also, the walls were painted black.

Taking one last look around the room, Dan noted that there was a full length glass door to his right that seemed to lead out to a balcony (from which he could most likely escape if needed) and that most of the light in the room was coming from a bed side lamp to his left, as the sun had already gone down outside the window.

Then he realised that the voices he'd heard earlier were still talking, a seeming little louder now that Dan was fully awake. They seemed to be coming from behind the closed door on Dan's left side, about seven feet from the bed.

Slowly, Dan slid out of bed, mindful of his injuries and not wanting cause himself more pain. With a slight limp, he walked over to the door, putting his ear against it and listening in to what the people outside were saying. One was Phil's voice (which made Dan pretty confident about  his guess of who the room belonged to) and the other voice, upon listening in, Dan had found out was Phil's mum.

"Look sweetie, I know you like to help others, but don't you think it'd be better if we just brought the poor boy to the hospital? It'd help him more than keeping him here. Plus we don't how to care for him, the hospital would." Phil's mum explained. Dan supposed that they had been discussing the same thing for while based on Ms. Lester's tired sounding voice.

"But mum, you don't understand. His tattoo says that he's supposed to die today! And I found him on the side of a bridge! He looked like he was about ready to jump..."

This caught Dan off guard. That was supposed to be it. He was meant to jump, and he almost made it. He'd been so close. It wasn't his fate to be saved, to commit suicide some other day- no, he was meant to die that day. And so far, he hadn't.

"Okay sweetie, I get it. But you know that we shouldn't be peeking on others tattoos in the first place..."

"It was an accident mum! He was waving his hand in front of my face and his sleeve rolled down. You know I'm too curious to not look." Phil whined, too which he heard Phil's mum sigh.

"Okay, Phil. He can stay here for the night. But why are you so insistent on not taking him to hospital?"

"He's supposed to die tonight! What if we get into a car crash? What if an officer thinks we're trying to kidnap him, and they try to shoot the car to make it stop, but accidentally shoot him instead? What if while we're walking through the parking lot, a tree falls and hits him? What if he gets attacked by a squirrel? If the, um... what if he's on a high floor and is trying to look out the window but accidentally falls out? What if a doctor trips and stabs him accidentally? What if-"

"Okay, Phil, I get it. He could die by whatever means that-"

"What if he accidentally ends up spraying his eyes with a poisonous deodorant? Or if the nurses accidentally transport him to the Bahamas and the plane crashes because an engine failed? What-"
(a/n- ^too true)

"Philip!"

"Sorry mum."

"It's okay. Now, why don't you go check up on him? He should be waking up some time soon."

Before Dan had a chance to react, the door was flung open and he was thrown to the ground, landing on his bum with his hands behind him to cushion his fall.

"Philip!" Ms. Lester screeched from where she was still standing in the hallway.

"Oh my goodness Dan! I'm so sorry!"

And a few seconds later, Dan blacked out once again.

|-/\-|

Chapter Text

-Drown (Tyler Joseph)

After Dan woke up for the second time, it was past midnight. It was past midnight. Which meant, Dan had survived the day he was supposed to die. Which was completely unheard of. You'd never walk down the street and hear someone tell another person that they had, in fact, survived their doomsday. Nor did you hear of anyone celebrating their survival.

This was because there was usually no survival, and no celebration to be held. Only a funeral to be planned.

The closest you could get to finding someone who survived the date that they were born with were people known as Backwards. They were people who could see the date they were supposed to die on, but not how they die, and the reason they were called Backwards was because it was quite rare as it was the opposite of what most others had as their tattoo. Dan couldn't even think of someone who went to their school that was a Backwards. And since the whole ordeal of tattoos was already relatively taboo, being a Backwards was not something that was taken lightly or joked about. Even out of everything Charlie had taunted Dan with, he'd never called :Dan a Backwards.

But that's the thing. Dan wasn't a Backwards. He could only see how he was supposed to die. Not the date. He was normal in the sense of tattoos. So he didn't understand why he hadn't died. Unless...

Dan was broken out of his thoughts by Phil entering the room with a bowl of chicken broth soup in his hands. He handed the bowl to Dan, along with a spoon, and took a seat next to Dan on the bed. Dan muttered a quiet "Thank you" as he took both items and began eating the soup slowly.

It was quiet for a few minutes, the only sound being Dan eating, before Phil broke the silence between the two.

"Why?" He asked simply, turning his body so that he was sitting cross-legged on the bed while facing Dan.

Dan swallowed a mouthful of soup before responding "Why what?"

"Why were you going to jump?"

"I don't know."

"Were you trying to jump?"

"I don't know."

"What would you have done if you did jump?"

"Died probably. I bet you would have too." Dan answered, continuing to eat the soup.

It was silent again, and this time Dan started to disappear into his thoughts, all the while mindlessly eating. He started to wonder why as well. But he was questioning something else. He was wondering why Phil, fucking Phil Lester had saved him, out of all people. Of course Phil was known for being a literal walking ball of sunshine, but he had chosen to talk to Dan. The person Phil's own boyfriend had dedicated himself to torturing throughout high school. He had chosen to save Dan from the ledge of that bridge, and now Dan couldn't help but wonder "why?"

And then Dan's thoughts drifted back to the bridge.

He remembered how the sky and river seemed to just mold together, how it seemed that the river was holding the sky captive. He could barely tell where the river stopped and the sky began.

He remembered the flame of his lighter, and how it seemed to be the only guiding light Dan had in that moment. It was the only thing that made him feel alive, and boy could he use it right now. Maybe he could he leave the world if he set his mind on fire...

"Dan? Dan, are you okay?"

Dan whipped his around to face Phil, broken out of his thoughts once again. The older boy was looking at Dan with concern in his eyes. Dan didn't realise that a few tears had escaped his eyes until Phil reached a hand out and brushed a couple away.

"Dan?" Phil asked again.

Dan looked away, lowering his head to look into his now half-empty soup bowl. He picked the spoon up again, continuing to eat, glad that it was still a bit warm.

"Hey, Dan, come on, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong," Phil insisted.

"It's fine, Phil. I'm fine. It doesn't matter anyway." Dan told the blue-eyed boy sitting next to him.

"You're crying."

"So?"

"Clearly, you're not okay. You're not 'fine.'"

"Oh but I am Philip." Dan chuckled a little, before shoving another spoonful of soup into his mouth.

Phil sighed, finally giving up. Instead, he asked something different.

"So Daniel, what things interest you?"

"Hmm?" Dan mumbled over his mouthful of soup. Phil smiled at this.

"What interests you? You know, music, movies, video games?" Phil elaborated.

"Oh, um... I'm not really sure. I've never really had the time or money in my life to be able to enjoy those things that much..." Dan said quietly, finishing up the last of his soup
before setting the now empty bowl aside with the spoon in it.

"Oh? Why don't you have the time? Too much homework?"

"I wish. I actually have to work a job at the coffee shop, and then on top of that I also have my homework. Also I don't really have money to spend on things that aren't essentials..." Dan spoke
quietly, thinking of how normal this was to him. It probably seemed absurd to Phil, and at this point Dan was questioning whether or not the other would actually believe him.

"What about your parents? Don't they supply money as well?"

"What's your favourite song?" Dan asked, quickly changing subject. He'd never talked about his parents to anyone. He refused to. And at this point, he was mentally hitting himself for already telling Phil so much. He'd just blindly trusted the boy, and that wasn't good. It never was.

"Excuse me?" Phil inquired, taken aback slightly by the sudden change of topic.

"Your favourite song? Or favourite band?"

"Oh, um... Well my favourite band is Muse, and my favourite song is Sail by AWOLNATION."

"Seriously? I love Muse too! But my favourite song has to be Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis."

"Really? That's cool, I can dig Elvis." Phil replied, admiring how the sad brown eyes of the younger boy that sat next to him lit up when he said that. (a/n I'm sorry)

"So um, I guess I should go home now?" Dan asked quietly.

"Wait, what?" Phil was surprised at the younger's words.

"Well, I mean, it's really late, and I don't want to have to be a bother any longer than I already have been..."

Just as Dan finished his sentence, a loud clap of thunder roared outside, illuminating the full length window of Phil's room. Dan jumped slightly, to which Phil took notice. Another clap of thunder, this one a bit louder, and the light that came with it showed that it was starting to rain outside.

"Well, looks like you can't leave now. It's raining." Phil stated triumphantly.

"Yeah... God's crying now..." Dan whispered inaudibly. He was probably crying because he didn't get to see Dan's soul off to hell. "No, it's fine. I really should get going," Dan continued, getting off the bed and standing up.
Phil stood up as well, looking dumbfounded. "Dan, are you deaf? I just said it's raining!"

"And I said I should get going. I really don't want to be a bother. And you know, you have a boyfriend... isn't this a little weird for you, having another boy in here?" Dan questioned,
hoping to persuade Phil to let him go. He walked to the door and grabbed his backpack (which Phil had graciously carried back to his house along with Dan after the incident at the bridge.)

"No, not all. You're my friend, so it just feels normal."

"I'm your friend?"

"Yes! Of course! Of course you're my friend, Dan! Why would you think otherwise?" Being quite honest, Phil looked like a kicked puppy whose eyes were unnaturally large and about to pop out of their head. He just had that look on his face while saying this.

"Oh Phil..." Dan sighed. "We've only known each other for a day."

"So?"

"So, how can you even trust me? You just blindly brought me back to your house without even considering that I could've been, I don't know, some psycho murderer?"

"If you're a murderer, than kill me. Right here, right now." Phil demanded.

Dan whipped around, staring at the boy like he was crazy.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

Dan just stood there, too shocked to respond or do anything other than stare.

"See? I'm still alive, aren't I?" Phil walked up to Dan, and grabbed Dan's hand. Phil placed Dan's hand over his heart, to show Dan he was, in fact, still alive. "Can you feel that? It's my heart, and it's beating normally. I'm alive. I trust you."

Phil then moved their hands so that they were on Dan's chest, over Dan's heart. "That's your heart. It's beating. You're alive. Do you trust me?"

Dan stared at the blue-eyed boy in front of him. If he was being honest, Dan wanted to. He wanted to trust this boy. But here's the thing: he wasn't being honest. Because he couldn't be. Life had taught him that trust existed only in the flames of his lighter; not in people.

Finally, Dan spoke.

"Not everything's that black and white, Phil. Some things are black and blue."

Phil's face dropped. "What?" he whispered.

"I'm sorry. Thank you Phil."

And then Dan ran.
|-/\-|

Chapter Text

-Forest

(Trigger, trigger, triggers...)

Five blocks away from Phil's house was when Dan realised he'd fucked up.

He had stopped for a minute to catch his breath, and with a quick glance around at his surroundings, Dan registered that he didn't recognise any of them. he had just passed through a neighborhood that he didn't know, and now was sat in front of a forest. He was lost. On top of that, he realised that he was also soaked down to his very core. His clothes were sticking to him and his hair fell across his face. His shoes were full of water and would most likely take days to dry.

Dan had no idea where his house was. He had no idea where he was. He was cold, and tired, and couldn't tell if the water that slid down his face was his tears or the rain. So what did he do? He kept walking. He walked into the forest, glad that the shelter of the trees lessened the amount of rain that fell on him.

Maybe Phil was wrong. Maybe he had mistaken the date on Dan's wrist for January 10 instead of January 11. Maybe Dan would be dead by morning. Maybe his suicide would be running away from everyone, and subjecting himself to a cold, stormy night in the forest.

After walking for about a half hour, Dan reached a clearing in the trees. It was an interesting place. The trees cleared out in a circle, while there was one giant tree in the middle. In the middle of said tree, there was a treehouse. Dan stepped out into the clearing and looked up. He saw only darkness above him, and the rain started to create more makeshift tears on his cheeks again.

And again, Dan created tears of his own.

And again, he screamed. He screamed at the sky, letting his every emotion out in an ear-splitting screech. He screamed and cried and yelled at the skies, asking them what he had done wrong. Asking what he had done to deserve the life he'd lived. He screamed and yelled until his voice physically wasn't capable of creating sound anymore. He cried until once again, it was only the sky that created tears.

He slowly trudged to the tree in the middle, all his energy having been sapped from him. He adjusted his backpack (that he had surprisingly managed to carry with him the whole way) on his shoulder, and began to climb. The treehouse sat nestled between branches several metres up.

Once Dan made it to the entrance to the treehouse, he climbed inside, glad to see the place was practically empty with nothing inside. He set his backpack down in one corner and sat next to it, his back supported by one of the walls. Finally, Dan was out of the rain.

His swept across the treehouse, landing on the silhouette of what seemed to be a lighter. Upon the reminder, Dan reached to his left and unzipped his back pack, shuffling through it trying to find his lighter.

He couldn't find it.

Next pocket. Not there either. Next pocket, nothing. Last pocket, completely empty.

Disappointed, Dan stood up and walked over to the lighter that was sat towards the opposite wall of the room. He picked it up, and realised that it was his lighter. Maybe it had fallen out of his backpack somehow?

Either way, Dan had his lighter. That was all that mattered.

He walked back over to his little corner, sat back down in the same position as before, and began playing with his lighter until he flicked it closed one last time, the smell of lightly burnt flesh barely noticeable as he fell asleep with a couple new scars on his arms.

Just as he was about to fall into deep sleep, Dan remembered that he had missed work.

|-/\-|

His body hurt. His neck and back are really stiff. The floor is hard. It's cold. It's stopped raining. His clothes were still wet. His feet are kind of numb. His shoes are no better than how they were last night.

Those were the first things that Dan's mind registered as he woke up. As he opened his eyes, he realised that it was cloudy outside, but still pretty dark, and he had no idea what time it was. Also, some time during the night, Dan's body had slumped completely down onto the floor of the treehouse, so that he was laying down instead of sitting against the wall.

Dan pushed himself off the ground as best he could, stumbling and only falling once. But hey, the more pain his body was in the better, right?

Life seemed to believe so.

Once he was finally standing, Dan reached down to his feet and started untying both of his shoes and took them off. He didn't care if the forest floor was muddy, or if it would hurt if he walked around in only his socks. He needed to get his fucking shoes off his feet.

He untied his sopping wet, beat up sneakers and grabbed his backpack and shoved the shoes into one of the empty pockets. He then threw his backpack back over his shoulder, and climbed out the treehouse. Once he reached the ground, he realised just how muddy the it was. His feet sunk at least eight centimetres with every step he took.

As Dan made his way back through the forest, he made a mental map of the trail so he could go back to the treehouse whenever he wanted. After about fifteen long minutes, Dan finally saw the forest starting to clear out and he saw the stretch of houses that he was walking down the last night. He walked down the block and started wandering aimlessly after that, trying to find an area that he recognized so that he could go home.

After another half hour, Dan finally made it onto a street that he recognized. It was a street that served as a route to the school. Dan had only gone down it a few times as he usually took a different route, but that was enough for him to remember how to get home. He only had about five more minutes to walk and then he would be safe. He'd be okay. He could get out of his still slightly wet and freezing cold clothes and he could have something to eat. He could also play with his lighter for a bit without worry of it getting messed up by the rain.

He walked down the rest of the street until he reached the intersection at the end, and went to turn left when suddenly somebody grabbed his arm.

"Hello, Howell." an all too familiar voice said.

Turning his head to look at the person, Dan saw that it was none other than his bully, Charlie. When Charlie saw Dan turn around and the look of recognition crossed over the poor boy's features, he smirked, glad to have his toy back after having fun with him the previous day.

Dan on the other hand, was utterly terrified. The second he saw it was Charlie, memories came rushing back to him from the day before. All could he feel was pain, pain, and more pain, even if he knew it wasn't real and just in his mind. All of his instincts were yelling at him to run as Charlie pulled him in closer, but he couldn't. He was in shock, and his body was refusing to move. So he just stood there helpless, putty in his bully's hands.

Goddammit, why couldn't he have just died yesterday, that would've made his life so much easier. Simply because of the fact that he wouldn't have to live it.

Suddenly, Charlie's voice right next to his ear broke Dan out of his thoughts.

"So, why you all wet? Get stuck out in the rain last night? Are you seriously so poor that you can't afford a fucking roof over your head or what , Howell?" He taunted. "Actually, you do have a place, don't you? I bet it's some foster home or a cheap apartment, huh? Wow, didn't expect someone like you would actually have a place. That's pathetic."

And the next thing Dan knew, he was on the ground, with Charlie towering over him.

"Seriously, you're just a waste of space. Why don't you do this world a favour and just end yourself?" He spat, before something flashed in his eyes and a sadistic smile lit up his face. "You know what? I bet that's what your tattoo says, doesn't it? Why don't we have a quick look." He moved so that he was kneeling next to Dan, and suddenly his hand lashed out and grabbed Dan's wrist with the tattoo on it.

Dan's eyes went wide and his instincts finally took over, trying to get his arm out of Charlie's hold. It was no use though, and Charlie pulled down his sleeve and revealed his tattoo. He held his wrist so that at the moment, only Dan could see it. Sure enough, there was the word Dan had stared at his whole life.

Suicide.

"What does it say, Howell? It says you're going to end yourself, doesn't it?"

Dan remained silent. He felt defeated. After everything he'd endured, every word he blocked out by telling himself it wasn't true, this had to be up there in the most painful. Because it was true, Charlie was right. For once, Dan couldn't try to fight off his words by simply thinking he was lying anymore.

"Well, well, how nice. Now, let's see. When shall the poor Daniel Howell end himself?" Charlie smirked, and turned Dan's wrist over so that he could see the date that was visible to the rest of the world on Dan's wrist. Immediately, his eyes went wide.

"What the fuck!" He screamed. "You were supposed to die fucking yesterday! Why the hell are you still here! Are you fucking Warkbac or something? Bloody hell!"

Dan froze at the mention. So it was true. He was supposed to die last night. As for being Warkbac, he'd considered it last night, but had immediately discarded the thought. Being Warkbac was even less heard of than being a Backwards. It meant that you didn't have a tattoo. It was the rarest thing in the world. There was nobody known who was Warkbac. People believed that those who were born Warkbac were either the Earthly equivalent to gods, or possessed by the devil - immortal beings sent to Earth to do his bidding. Either way, they were just plain freaks of nature to the rest of the world.

Honestly, Dan thought it was pretty stupid, but he couldn't help be self-conscious when there was a possibility that he could be. But he had a tattoo, so it didn't make sense. But there was also the fact that Charlie had messed with him because of his tattoo. That was a first.

And yet once again, Dan was being lifted by his collar, and held against a lamp post. One punch to the face, a kick to the shin, a knee to his gut, and a few more random punches. It hurt more than usual, as Charlie was hitting the still fresh wounds from the previous day.

Honestly, Dan was surprised no one had seen the two of them yet. The street wasn't necessarily busy, but there had been the occasional car. Dan just drew the conclusion that no one cared enough.

He was dropped back to his feet, having to use the post behind him as support to stand. He was breathing hard, and pain was creeping back up on him. Everything that he had felt yesterday, the pain both physically and mentally, was creeping back to the surface and starting to take him over.

"You listen here you freak, I-" Charlie started, but was cut off by someone calling out to them and the sound of feet pounding against concrete.

In the next moment, Phil was stood by their sides, with his backpack on.

"Hey, you two know each other?" He asked, a curious look on his face. He had no idea what had just happened between the two, and based off of his question, Dan took a guess and assumed that he didn't know what Charlie did to him at school either.

"Oh, no, actually I saw Dan here fall and decided to help him up. We were just getting to know each other." Charlie spoke easily, the lie rolling right off his tongue. He shot a look at Dan, as if challenging him to say anything else.

But of course, Dan still had some of his sanity left, and followed along with the simple lie.

"Yeah, I was just walking back to my place and tripped. Charlie here found me and helped me. Actually, Phil, you two are together aren't you?" Dan spoke, his social awkwardness forgotten as he said the words almost robotically.

"Yeah, we are together." Phil replied, a smile on his face as moved next to Charlie, who put an arm over Phil's shoulder. But Phil's smile was replaced with a look of a doubt and something else Dan couldn't quite pinpoint as he continued speaking. "But Dan, last night you said were going home? Why were you just walking home now?"

Dan's heart sunk at this. He looked down at his feet, which were still bare save for his socks. Apparently, Phil saw this as well, and of course asked about it.

"And what happened to your shoes?"

Dan's mind raced as he tried to come up with a decent answer, one that would please both Phil and Charlie. Of course he didn't forget Charlie's threat to stay away from Phil after he got his hands on Dan's journal, so this whole situation was just a pain in the ass for him to get around.

"Um, well last night, after we'd played video games at your place, as I was walking home it was still raining so I decided to stay at a friend's house that's nearby. And um, my shoes got wet in the rain, and they're still soaked through, so I decided it be more comfortable to not wear them..." Dan answered, praying to every known god that Phil would believe him. His thoughts were starting to race again, detaching him from the situation just a bit.

"Oh, which friend? Do I know them?" Phil pressed.

"Um, probably not. It's a relative that's older than all of us."

"But you just said friend."

Fuck, he did? Dan could barely even understand the words coming out of his own mouth anymore.

"Oh, no. They're technically a relative, but we're close like friends, so that's why I said friend. Wasn't thinking, sorry."

"Oh, that's cool..." Phil muttered, looking as though he didn't believe a single piece of the bullshit Dan just spewed to him.

"So," Charlie spoke for the first time in the whole interaction. "How do you guys know each other?" He asked, conjuring up a minute glare that he sent in Dan's direction as he spoke.

Phil spoke up immediately, before Dan even had a chance to comprehend the question.

"Oh, I ran into him in the bathroom yesterday. We talked in Art as well, got to know each other a little, and I invited him over to play video games. Now, we should get going or we're going to be even more late for school. Dan, you coming with us?"

"No, no, sorry. I have to go get changed, and dry off my stuff. I might see you guys around later, though." Dan replied instantly.

"Okay, see you!" Phil said, turning and walking away. Charlie stayed behind though.

"Wow, you're stupid. Stay. Away. From. Phil. And the next time I see you, you're so going to get it."

Dan quickly nodded, in fear of Charlie hurting him even more for the day, and watched as he jogged to catch up to Phil and two left.

Whether or not he was imagining it, he couldn't tell.

But he could've sworn he felt tears starting to fall down his face.

|-/\-|

When Dan finally made it to the front of his four story brick apartment building ten minutes later, he realised that in that moment, he was the happiest he'd ever been to see the shabby place that looked as though it could crumble and fall down at any moment.

He opened the door to the lobby, walked over to the stairs and made his way up to the second floor. He walked down the hall to his room, which was just about three to four metres away from the stairwell.

He got his keys out, unlocked the door and stepped inside, enjoying the familiar faint musty smell that had settled in his apartment along with the rest of the building. His apartment was pretty simple and small. It had one bedroom, a small living room joined with the kitchen, and a main bathroom. He let the door close by itself behind him as he set down his backpack next to the door, leaning down and unzipping the pocket his shoes were in. He took them out and set them down, hoping that they'd be dry soon enough.

He then got up, walked the few steps to his bedroom, which only had his small closet, a single bed, a window on the back wall next to his bed of which the view was a magnificent cement wall, and a nightstand. He got changed into a pair of boxers, grey sweatpants, and a white hoodie. He went back out to the common area and opened his backpack again, this time looking for his phone and lighter. He found them both, then made his way back into his bedroom, closed the door, opened his window and plugged in his phone since it was dead.

Finally, with his lighter in hand he slid down his bedroom door until he was sitting with his back against it, his knees drawn up a bit. He flicked the lighter open, and the second he saw flames, he lifted the lighter to his arm, watching as the flames ate his skin little by little before pulling the lighter away.

Thank goodness there were no fire alarms in his place.

After a while, he closed his lighter and fell asleep, exhausted.

|-/\-|

It's dark once again by the time Dan wakes up.

He stood up from his place on the floor, stretched, and walked over to his phone. He unplugged it as it was finally at full power for once, and checked his messages. His heart sunk as he saw one from his boss at the café he works at.

That couldn't mean anything good.

And Dan was right. As he read through the text, he realised he was fucked.

"Dear Daniel Howell, due to your constant absence and poor performance here at The Underground Café, we have no choice but to fire you. Thank you for working here, and we wish you the best of luck."

He'd been fired.

Mind racing with panic (at the disco), he ran out of his room and to the fridge in his kitchen where he kept a small month to month calendar posted on it with a cheap magnet. He looked for the current date of Tuesday, and saw that his rent was due that Friday.

Still panicking, he rushes back into his room and picks up his lighter. He didn't intend to burn himself more, he just mindlessly flicked it open and closed, while his thoughts raced. It was basically his fidget spinner in that moment, minus the fact that it didn't exactly spin.

But that aside, he couldn't get the fact he'd been fired out of his mind. How was he supposed to make money? How was he going to pay his rent?

The other night, money had been the last thing on his mind as he believed he wouldn't need anymore. He was on the bridge. He was there. He wasn't supposed to live past last night. It was supposed to end.

But it hadn't and now here he was. Stuck paying his bills, fired from his job, in a shit load of trouble with Charlie, still in a bit of pain, and having to face the rest of the school year. Thank god he was a Senior. He'd finally graduate, and be free one circle of his hell. Then he could also get Charlie out of his hair.

But he still had bills and rent due.

And he only had about a third of what he needed to pay.

Dan let out a groan of frustration, the hand not holding his lighter going up to tug at his hair. After five minutes of thinking of different ways to bring in money by the end of the week, Dan had some ideas.

One, he could rob a bank, but he doubted that would work. Two, he could play songs on the street and hope that people would give him money, but that had very little chance of working and he didn't even have any instruments, so that was off the table.

And three, was something he never thought he'd resort to. But at this point, he had no other choice.

He made up his mind, and decided that tomorrow was going to be busy a night.

He laid down, trying to get his thoughts to calm down so that he'd be ready for the day to come.

Holy shit he was not ready.

Chapter Text

-Ode To Sleep
Chapter 7
When Dan woke up, it was 04:00 the next day.

Sighing, Dan sat up and reached for his phone, which was on the nightstand next to him. He continued to sit in bed, the covers pulled up to his hips, while he mindlessly scrolled through random stuff online on his phone. He told himself that he was still tired, even though he had just slept the most he had ever slept in a long time, but in reality he was just mentally and spiritually preparing himself for the day ahead of him.

No, he wasn't going to school. He wasn't trying to prepare himself for another agonizing at the hellhole most knew as "school."

That morning, Dan was preparing himself to go into town.

After about three hours of mindlessly playing on his phone and sitting in bed, it was 07:12. Dan finally decided that it was time to get up and officially start his day.

He slid out of bed, walked over to his closet and pulled out a pair of extra-skinny black jeans that hugged his ass, a loose fit white t-shirt, and his spare pair of sneakers that he usually never wore in a feeble attempt to at least have one nice piece of clothing. He put his phone into his back pocket, and walked out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.
He walked to his cabinets, and pulled out a bowl and a nearly empty box of cereal. Looking into his nearly empty fridge, he found a carton of milk. Opening it up, he was immediately hit with the extremely foul smell that indicated that the milk was way past expired.

Sighing, Dan walked over to the sink with the carton and poured it all out, sad to see food go to waste. Then he got his cereal and poured all of it into his bowl, seeing as there wasn't much left anyway. He sat down at his small table and ate the cereal dry, as it was the only food he had. He ate slowly while reading random political articles on his phone. Everything was pretty much the same - there was still confusion with British elections and America was freaking out trying to impeach their Cheeto.

Finally, he's done with his cereal, so he gets up, puts his phone away, does the dishes, and goes back into his room to grab his wallet, putting it in his pocket along with his phone. He walked back out into the living room, and made his way to the front door, where his backpack still lay. He kneeled down and grabbed his backpack, finding that it was still a bit damp. Groaning, he opened it to find that most of his papers were messed up and some of his books were as well, though not to the same extent as his homework. He found his journal, which mostly dry thankfully, and pulled it out. He was desperate to write something new in it.

He opened to a new page, and stared at it for a few seconds before deciding to write some lyrics he'd memorized from a song.

So get this doubt out of my head
It's only real if you let it
And I've been letting go of my ghosts
I'll never let them catch me no more
But these words are all I have
So I'll just keep dreaming out loud
And if I just keep talking
Maybe I'll figure all this out
-Nocturne by Eden

Finally, he decided that it was no use to keep stalling, so he set his journal aside, stood up, and walked out of his apartment.

09:52

|-/\-|

The bright lights shone in his eyes, the loud music drummed in his ears, the bass from the speakers vibrated the whole building, and the liquid in Dan's cup sloshed around as he danced in the midst of the strangers, pretending to have the time of his life.

He was currently in the more sketchy part of town, where you'd expect gangs to be hanging out and where you could get into almost any club without being ID'd.

Dan managed to do the latter of the two.

He got into a random club and got a drink with ease, and was currently waiting for someone to talk to him. Being in the middle of everyone, Dan decided he wasn't drunk enough.

He went back over to the bar, sitting down next to a guy who looked to be in his early twenties, not much older than Dan. He was lean, had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, and a barely noticeable stubble. He was wearing an expensive business suit, and also had a drink and a few discarded shot glasses in front of him.

Dan ignored him while ordering his next drink, sliding a tenner to the barista who gave him a glass of rum in exchange.
He started sipping on his newly acquired drink when he felt a tap on his shoulder from the guy sitting next to him.

"Hey, my name's Brian!" The guy exclaimed over the music.

"Dan!" Dan replied, shooting the guy a smile.

They got to talking a bit more, and the next thing Dan knew, they were heading out the back doors of the club and down the street to the guy's car, supporting each other while laughing at the same time. They were both pretty drunk, but not yet to the point where they were wasted.

Eventually they both made to the street and got into the guy's car, driving off to Brian's hotel room. In the short time that Dan was pretty much sober, he'd learned that Brian was in London for a business trip, hence the suit, and that he lived in Manchester.

After that, the alcohol took over and Dan stopped paying attention.

The drive was short, lasting only about five minutes, and then they were outside Brian's hotel, which was surprisingly fancy. A four star, Dan guessed.

Getting out of the car and walking inside, Dan was practically hanging off the other male, both of them still drunkenly laughing over their pointless conversation. They made it into the elevator, where Brian made the first move. He pulled
Dan into him in a sort of side-hug, his hand low on Dan's waist.

Dan leaned into Brian, resting his head in the crook of the barely-older-man's neck.

(a/n le smut until next note)

Brian's hand travelled lower, until it was resting on Dan's butt.

Just then, the elevator dinged and the two made their way out, slightly rushing down the short hall. Brian opened the door to his hotel room, ushering Dan inside, and closed the door behind the two of them.

He then proceeded to hold Dan against the door, leaning in and kissing him roughly. Dan kissed back, a little uneasy as other than the incident with Charlie, Dan was still a virgin. Knowing that this was his only way to get money, Dan let himself go and let his drunk mind take over, giving full submission to the older male.

They continued making out, and in the process, clothes started coming off as well. Dan's shirt went first, then Brian's suit jacket and dress shirt, the latter of which Dan pretty much ripped off.

Brian started moving down to unbutton Dan's jeans, when suddenly Dan grabbed his hands, stopping him from doing anything. Brian looked up at the younger quizzically, wondering why he chose to stop.

"L-look, not the best time to mention this, but, £100 to keep going," Dan said in-between pants.
Brian nodded, and said that he would give Dan the money afterwards.

Dan let go Brian's hands, and allowed the man to do as he wished. Brian unbuttoned and unzipped Dan's jeans, desperate to get them off the boy, and slid them down. Dan was left in his boxers, still leaning against the door.
Brian stood up and put his hands under Dan's butt, telling the boy to jump. Dan complied, wrapping his legs around Brian's waist, and the older carried him to the queen-sized bed that was in the middle of the room, laying him down before getting on top of him and going back to kissing Dan.

Brian then undid his own pants, sliding them off and discarding of them. He started grinding down on Dan, causing the younger to moan.

Dan himself, though still a bit drunk, was surprised at himself with how well he was taking everything, especially since it was barely a few days ago that Charlie had raped him.

People really didn't care when it came to money, Dan reasoned. Because this was how he was going to survive for a while.
Dan was brought back to reality when he felt a hand grab his dick, while the other slid his boxers off. He looked up at Brian, panting, and saw that other already had his own boxers off and was wearing a condom. Dan moaned again when Brian started playing with the tip of his dick, flicking it and messing with it.

After a few minutes of this, a pair fingers were thrust into Dan's mouth and he was told to suck them. He did so for about a minute, before Brian took his fingers and messed with Dan's hole for a few seconds, before grabbing his own cock and positioning himself at Dan's entrance.

"Ready?" He asked Dan, out of breath.

Dan nodded quickly before he could think twice about it, and felt a sudden pain he thought he'd never have to feel again. It also didn't help that they weren't really using lube, and Brian had barely stretched Dan at all.
Dan kept in a squeal successfully, his eyes wrenching shut at the feeling of being stretched so much. Brian himself let out a loud moan once he'd bottomed out, quickly pulling out a little and thrusting back in. He did this a few more times, creating a study rhythm.

At first, Dan hated the feeling, as he felt like he constantly needed to take a shit, before after a while he became more comfortable and started to enjoy it.

After about ten minutes, Brian came, and Dan followed a few minutes after.

(A/N END SMUT... that was horrible pls spare me)

The two retrieved their clothes and got cleaned up, and as Dan got ready to leave Brian handed him a £100 and business card, telling Dan to "call whenever."

Dan accepted both, though he knew it was very unlikely that he was going to need the business card.

He left the room and continued to make his way out of the building, and managed to see the time on a clock as he was leaving. It was barely noon. Dan had some more time to try and go out to get more money.

So he did.

|-/\-|

Another bar, another guy, and £250.

|-/\-|

And then £120.

|-/\-|

After the three guys, Dan's ass hurt, his pride was completely gone, but he had enough to pay for his rent, as well as some food.

So, he decided that it was worth it.

He'd made £470 in one night, so combine that with the three hundred he had saved for rent and bills initially, and he had just enough to pay his £750 total of bills and rent. The best part, he had about £20 left over for food.

Dan decided that he was done for the night, and started to make his way back to his apartment.

Once inside, he set his money on the table next to his wallet so that he doesn't forget to give it to his landlord in the morning, and walked into his room. He stripped completely down, threw his old clothes into a laundry bag in the corner, set his phone down on his nightstand, and grabbed his only pair of pajamas from the closet. He went into the bathroom, took a shower, put on his clothes, and jumped into bed.

He was exhausted. His back hurt, his sides hurt, his head hurt, and his heart hurt.

But he felt numb.

It was as if his brain couldn't comprehend the fact that he was hurting.

He felt numb, through and through.

And that meant that he couldn't feel anything.

Which just so happened to be the most positive thing he'd felt in a while.

(a/n This is a good place to stop reading if you need to go do something else)

|-/\-|

Dan woke up to a splitting headache.

It was morning once again, and it was already 10:23 according to Dan's phone.

It was kind of funny, as Dan had actually been planning to go back to school that day, but he couldn't.

His ass still hurt, his head was killing him, and he wasn't numb anymore, which happened to be the biggest problem in his mind.

So instead of getting ready for school, as he wasn't feeling up for it and since there wasn't any point as it had started about two hours ago, Dan got up, went into his bathroom to retrieve a bottle of Advil, chugged down two tablets, and got his money from the night before off the table in the living room.

He grabbed his phone, his wallet, and keys before leaving, heading down to his landlord's office on the first floor. Dan gave the landlord his money, and left with his remaining £20 to go to the grocery store. He picked up bread, a package of cup of noodle, cereal, and milk before paying and leaving with it all in bags. After that, he had £5 left.

He went back to his apartment, and then his day took a turn for the worst.

Standing right outside Dan's door waiting for him, was Charlie.

Chapter Text

-Save (Tyler Joseph)

Chapter 8

Dan felt paralyzed at the sight of Charlie in front of him. It felt as though something was sitting on his chest, holding him in place and suffocating him at the same time. His mind was racing, thoughts flying through his head, his breaths quickening as his mind finally settled on a single thought:

Run.

But he couldn't. He needed to get inside his apartment. To do so, he had to go past Charlie.

'Well fuck...' He thought.

Charlie was looking at Dan from where he was leaning against the wall with a devilish smirk on his face, before he stood up and revealed another person who had been hiding behind him. Dan recognized that person as Joe Sugg, another one of the popular people at their school. He was also wearing an evil looking smirk.

"What do you guys want?" Dan spoke, breaking the silence that had settled between the three of them. He tried to sound confident, but his words were barely above a whisper. Being honest, how could he be confident when he was scared out of his mind?

"Oh nothing, we just came to chat," Charlie responded, wiping the smirk off his face and replacing it with a look of innocence that could fool almost anyone. He started moving towards Dan, to which Dan avoided and moved to his apartment door, his groceries still in hand, quickly sticking the key in the lock and swinging the door open before attempting to slam it shut, but it got stopped by Charlie who swung it back open.

In all honesty, Dan was surprised that the door hadn't fallen off its hinges.

He was also even more terrified of Charlie than before.

Charlie and Joe strolled inside as if they owned the place, Dan slowly backing away from them. Suddenly, Joe rushed forward and knocked Dan to the ground.

He landed on his back, his hands flying behind him to try and brace his fall to no avail. His grocery bag went flying to somewhere in the room, but Dan couldn't be bothered to give a shit. He tried to get up, but in the blink of an eye Charlie was there picking him up as if he was a feather, and carried him to his bedroom and threw him on the bed. Dan screamed, hoping one of his neighbors would hear and call the police, though he knew it was unlikely. He quickly sat up, but Charlie got on top of him, grabbed his hands, and held them above his head while Joe stood next to the both of them and ripped his shirt off before rolling it up and putting it in Dan's mouth like a gag. He and Charlie switched places as Charlie got his own shirt off, rolled it up, and used it to tie Dan's hands together. Dan was squirming underneath the two, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as his mind was in full blown panic.

It had already once with Charlie,  and that was miserable.

And now it was happening again with both Charlie and Joe.

'Oh god,' Dan thought, 'what did I ever do to make you hate me this much?'

Once Charlie and Joe were finished restraining Dan, they stripped him until he was left in only his boxers and stripped themselves as well. By this point, Dan had stopped struggling, knowing it'd be easier to just accept his fate. He closed his eyes, shutting them tight hoping that the next he opened them he'd wake up from this horrid nightmare. That he'd be with his family and his friends, that he wouldn't be the outcast of the school, that he would be straight, that he'd be normal.

That he'd be happy.

But that didn't happen.

The next time Dan opened his eyes, Charlie was grabbing his chin and punched him in the cheek.

His eyes shot open, a gasp leaving his mouth followed shortly after by a groan of pain. He so desperately wanted to hold his cheek as an attempt to ease the pain, but alas he couldn't move.

Charlie and Joe took turns hitting Dan wherever they pleased, Charlie even landing a hit on Dan's dick, causing Dan to cry out, tears coming out like someone had broken the dam that had been holding them back.

They took hit after hit, until Dan felt pain on almost every part of his body. He couldn't do anything but lay there helpless, struggling to breathe, whimpering and crying.

Then, through half lidded eyes, Dan saw Charlie and Joe taking off their boxers, and then felt his being taken off.

Weak and beaten, he left out one last scream, praying to every known divine figure that someone would help him, save him, even though he knew no one would.

He was just another worthless soul in a world that didn't want him.

And then there was the all-too-familiar pain in his ass and back, and he let one last tear slip before shutting his eyes, hoping that they'd just kill him.

It went on for about an hour.

Dan was quiet during it all. He just laid there like a lifeless sex toy. He felt disgusted.

He could feel the cum running out, feel the lingering pain of being stretched so much.

Why wasn't he dead.

Why?

He opened his eyes slightly, seeing a fully dressed Charlie and Joe sitting on the end of his bed, Charlie holding the side of Joe's face.

"See, that was fun, wasn't it sweetie?" Charlie whispered to Joe, pecking his lips.

"Yeah, it really was babe." Joe kissed Charlie.

And Dan blacked out.

|-/\-|

Dan hadn't left his apartment in a week.

Dan hadn't gone to school in a week.

He hadn't heard from anyone, nor had anyone heard from him.

He was running out of food again.

But he didn't care.

He'd had enough.

Not a day had passed by in that week though where Dan hadn't seen that magnificent flames of his lighter.

They seemed to be the only constant in his life.

He was tired. He was sick. He couldn't bare the thought of going back out into the world. The world was horrible, cruel place filled with evil, greedy people who knew of nothing but themselves. Dan thought that hell sounded like a better place.

He had been sleeping on the couch as well, trying to avoid his room as much as possible.

So he really didn't care if he wasted away in his apartment. But life always seemed to have plans opposite of his.

At the moment, he was sitting on his couch, watching anime on his phone. He was very surprised when he got a notification about a new text. Being curious, he opened it, feeling shocked to find a new message from none other than Phil Lester himself.

Phil: Hey Dan

Dan: um hi phil
how'd you get my number

Phil: I put yours into my phone and mine onto your phone when you were over at my house that one night

Dan: ah got it
anyway, what do you want

Phil: Why haven't you been in school recently
I thought you were coming back?

Dan: oh yeah
still sick

Phil: okay dan
oh wait can you smell that?

Dan: smell what?

Phil: the bullshit that's coming out of your mouth

Dan: ...

Phil: yeah, so really, why haven't you been in school?

Dan: why do you care?

Phil: cause you're my friend

Dan: still

Phil: please Dan
Because I care about you

Dan: I don't know
it's just been a rough week
i'm okay Phil

Phil: okay
well, it's Friday, and I just got out of school, so I was wondering if you want to go out to eat?

Dan: no please
I really don't want to be a burden

Phil: you wouldn't be

Dan: but don't you want to go hang out with your actual friends or your boyfriend

Phil: yeah I do
I do want to hang out with my actual friend
and that would be you

Dan: okay fine

Phil: Yay!!
So does pizza sound okay?

Dan: yeah sure
where at?

Phil: I was thinking that little local shop on the corner of the street a few blocks away from the school?

Dan: sounds great, I'll meet you there

Phil: awesome!
oh one more thing

Dan: what is it

Phil: have you hurt yourself recently?
or thought about going back to the bridge?

Dan: we're not having this conversation phil

Dan locked his phone, tossing beside him on the couch. He put his feet flat on the floor, leant forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, burying his face in his hands.

What the hell did he just agree to?

|-/\-|

All dolled up (as if, he still looked like a walking corpse in semi-decent clothes) Dan made it to the pizza shop Phil had been talking about.

Walking inside, Dan sees Phil waiting for him in a corner on his phone. Taking a deep breath Dan started walking over to him, eyes darting across the faces of the people he passed, wary of nearly every small movement from inside the cozy building. He couldn't but feel all of their eyes were on him, judging him.

He should've stayed home.

But he didn't, and that was why after a few quick strides, Dan made it to Phil's side and was tapping on his shoulder. Phil looked up from his phone, and a smile lit up his face when he saw Dan.

"Hey Phi-" Dan started, but was cut off when he was engulfed in a hug from Phil.

"I missed you..." Phil mumbled, letting go of Dan, who felt a faint twinge of happiness at the older boy's words.

He brushed it off though, pretending not to hear him. Instead, he asked where Phil wanted to sit. Phil lead Dan to a booth in a corner and they sat down on opposite sides facing each other, as a waitress came by and set a menu down in the middle between the two.

They both skimmed over the menu in silence for a few minutes, before the waitress came back to take their order.

"One medium pepperoni and a lemonade please," Phil ordered, looking up at the woman.

"Alright, and for you?" She asked, gesturing towards Dan.

"Um, just a root beer please..." Dan responded quietly, noticing the weird look Phil gave him.

"Alright, will that be all?" The waitress asked, and Dan nodded before Phil could say anything. Dan fished out his wallet and paid for his drink while Phil paid for his pizza and drink.

Once the waitress left, Phil turned to Dan.

"Why aren't you eating more?" He asked, concerned.

"Just don't have the money," Dan replied, head down and his voice quiet.

Phil reached out and grabbed Dan's hands, which were folded on top of the table.

"Come on, you should eat more," Phil told him. "When the lady come back, just say you changed your mind and want to order something else. Anything, I'll pay."

"No, Phil, I'm not letting you do that." Dan said, surprised. "Why would you even think of doing that for me?"

"Because I care about you."

They were quiet after that, until the waitress came back with their food. She set Phil's order in front of him, and Dan's root beer in front of him before she left once again.

"Okay, how about this. If you're not going to order more food, then share some of my pizza." Phil said confidently, a bright smile on his face.

"No, Phil. It's your food." Dan responded, rolling his eyes before taking a sip of his root beer.

"Come on, please."

"No."

"How about a yes?"

"No."

"Dan-" Phil was cut off when one of the waiters dropped a tray on the other side of the restaurant, a loud crash and clattering sound ringing out throughout the place.

Dan jumped at the sudden noise, and felt as if a spike of anxiety had impaled his chest for a brief moment, his heart skipping a beat and his breath seizing for a second.

Phil took the chance to grab a slice from his pizza and shoved it in Dan's mouth.

"Well you can't say no now," Phil stated happily, a triumphant look on his face. Dan on the other hand, just sat there shocked while looking straightforward at Phil, a small slice of pizza hanging slightly out of his mouth.

After a couple seconds, Phil burst out laughing at Dan's appearance, and Dan broke out of his shock, scrambling quickly to try and eat the pizza so he didn't look as much of an idiot.

Phil, still laughing lightly in the background, started eating some pizza as well, and from there they just sat, ate, and talked, sharing lighthearted jokes and simple facts about themselves.

"So," Phil mumbled over a slice of pizza in his mouth, "how've you been this past week?"

"I've been alright," Dan answered, finishing his last slice of pizza. "What about you? How have you been?"

"I've been great, but I've missed seeing you around." Phil said simply. This made Dan smile a little.

"What, you missed my ugly face?" Dan joked, shooting Phil a shy smile.

"Yeah, yeah I have," Phil laughed, going along with the joke. "But to be honest, I don't think your ugly. You're beautiful, Dan. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Dan was surprised, to say the least. Those were the first kind words he'd received from another human being in a long while. He shifted his gaze to his lap, where his hands were folded. He didn't know what to think.

"Dan? Dan, hey, what's wrong?" Phil asked, his tone gentle as he got up and slid into the booth seat next to Dan.

"Nothing, I'm fine Phil..." Dan whispered, not looking up.

"Fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and empty or emotional. F.I.N.E.," Phil declared quietly. "No, Dan, you are not fine. Please, just... trust me, Dan. Please let me in instead of lying to me. I promise I won't think of you differently no matter what you tell me. I promise I won't hurt you Dan."

And as if he was trying to seal some deal, Phil leaned over pulled Dan into a comforting hug.

And that's when Dan realised he was crying.

He let out a small sniffle and leaned into Phil's side, despite every fibre in his being urging him not to.

"But why?" he spoke quietly. "You just met me, like, a week ago. And when you did I was running out of a bathroom crying. Why do you care so much?"

Phil pulled Dan closer, answering the younger's question straightforwardly. "Because, there's something in me telling me that you'd be an awesome friend, and from experience, I know better than to pass up an amazing opportunity. I don't know what this feeling is exactly, but I care about you Dan." It was silent for a minute, before Phil continued in a quieter voice. "So, will you trust me? I promise you, Dan."

Right before Dan had the chance to answer, the sound of someone sitting down across from the two caught their attention, and Phil took his arm back from where it resting on Dan's shoulder as Dan looked up.

He immediately regretted doing so.

Because in front of them, sat Charlie.

'Why the fuck does he always have to ruin my day?" Dan thought, sighing inwardly while fighting back the urge to cry.

"Well, hello to my favourite people- Phil and Daniel."

Chapter Text

-Air Catcher

Chapter 9

"Well Phil, I didn't expect to see you here." Charlie said, feigning being surprised.

Phil didn't seem to be able to tell though, smiling sweetly at his boyfriend. Beside him, Dan sat completely still, mind blank and body unresponsive.

"So, what have you two been talking about?" Charlie asked.

"Oh, nothing much, just been catching up," Phil replied vaguely. He squeezed Dan's knee as a comforting gesture, before standing up and sitting next to Charlie. The two of them started their own little conversation, while Dan tried to collect himself.

Dan stayed silent, while Charlie and Phil chatted their little hearts away.

It was fine. Dan was used to having his thoughts as his only company.

'Fucking worthless faggot. Haven't you realised that everyone you meet hurts you or leaves you? Why trust Phil?'

Because he's the first one that seems to genuinely care about me.

'Oh really? What about your parents? They cared so much before the little incident.'

That was different. They were my parents.

'Still were people that cared about you. And they kicked you to the curb. I bet Phil wouldn't hesitate to do the same if he got to know you.'

He wouldn't.

'Oh but he would. Hey, do you remember what your mother's last words to you were?'

Don't even go there-

'"Fuck you, Daniel, you were never my son. I hope the tattoo with your death says suicide."'

F-

"Dan? Hey, are you okay? You've been silent for the past five minutes..."

Dan looked up to see Phil and Charlie staring at him. Phil had a concerned look, while Charlie seemed to be holding back a smirk.

"Um, I, uh, I have to go the loo real quick," Dan muttered, before he stood up quickly and sprint-walked to the loo.

He went inside and quickly locked himself in a stall, putting the toilet seat down before sitting on it and bringing his knees to his chest, burying his face in his knees. It barely took a minute before Dan was sobbing, with tears streaming down his face and every other breath getting caught in his throat. His head hurt, his chest hurt, his throat hurt, his eyes stung and he was hyperventilating. It felt as if something was trying to suffocate him, to destroy him from the inside out.

If it weren't for the fact that he was in a public restroom, he would've screamed. If it weren't for the fact that he had left it at home, he would've been watching flames dance and lick his skin.

And if it weren't for the fact that Phil had showed up that day, Dan would've been dead in a river.

He held a hand over his mouth, a feeble attempt to try and quiet himself.

This went on for about ten minutes before Dan heard the sound of the restroom door opening.

"Dan?" He heard Phil call out.

Dan tried his best to keep quiet, his crying had died down to mere sniffling and short, quick breaths.

"Dan?" He heard Phil call out again, and saw his feet stop right in front of the stall Dan was hiding in. "Come on, Dan, I know you're in here."

"It's fine, I'm alright Phil." Dan replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Well, going off the fact that I heard you crying moments ago, I really don't think you are okay, Dan. Please, open the stall so we can talk properly," Phil pleaded.

"Phil, I already told you, I'm fine. I'm just feeling a little ill, it's noting major," Dan insists, closing his eyes and hoping that when he opened them Phil would've left. He needed to be alone. He couldn't handle being around other people at the moment.

He should've just stayed home, dammit.

Maybe he could just rip a hole in the universe and walk through to a universe that consisted of just his apartment. That, in his mind, was heaven in itself.

When Dan opened his eyes, he felt relieved to see that Phil's shoes weren't in front of the stall door, indicating that he'd left. Or at least he'd thought Phil had left, before said boy started climbing over the stall divider and landed in front of Dan with a loud thump, causing Dan to let out a scream.

Phil giggled softly at Dan's reaction, before leaning down and wrapping the smaller boy in a comforting hug. "C'mon, just tell me what's wrong," Phil muttered into Dan's shoulder.

"It's nothing, I promise..." Dan whispered, fighting back more tears. Despite every nerve that made up his physical being urging him away from Phil, and Charlie, and the rest of the world as a whole, there was something about having Phil there, comforting him and caring for him that nearly made him lose his resolve. The action and the feelings that came out of it drew Dan in like a curious child seeing a firefly for the first time.

He wanted to understand the magic of the creature known as Phil Lester.

"Dan, please... I just wanna know what's wrong. I want to help, please," Phil persisted. When Dan was silent for a few seconds, Phil then added "Does this have anything to do with Charlie? You were perfectly fine before he got here."

Dan wanted so bad to be able to tell Phil everything.

But he couldn't.

Because in doing so, he would just ruin everything.

For himself, and for Phil.

He also feared what repercussions Charlie had planned for him if he did so happen to chose to spill his heart to Phil. Whatever they were, Dan had decided, none of them could be good.

So instead, he lied once again.

"Phil, look at me. I promise you, I promise, everything's okay. Nothing's wrong between me and Charlie. It's just, I'm... Life's been stressful for me these past weeks. I just, I'm sick and tired of it all, it's wearing me down and I can't take it. It feels like I'm a light that's dying out quickly, and like I'm a fucking leaf getting tossed around in a tornado or a hurricane. I... I just can't stand it, Phil. I'm tired. I'm so fucking tired. I just-" Dan honestly didn't know where all of that came from. First he was just telling a simple lie to Phil, then he just ripped his soul out and gave it to Phil in the form of words. He didn't even realise he was crying until Phil wiped away his tears.

"Shh, it's okay, it's gonna be okay Dan. Just calm down, deep breaths. How about you calm down and wipe your pretty eyes and then we can get out of here, yeah?" Phil whispered soothingly, rubbing Dan's back and rocking them slightly in attempt to calm Dan.

Dan weakly nodded, and after a few minutes they both got up and left the bathroom. Only Charlie was standing right there at the door, waiting for them.

"Hey Phil, I was wondering if I could talk to Dan real quick, alone?" Charlie asked, subtly shooting a menacing glare at Dan.

Dan, scared as usual of Charlie, was about to respond yes in order to prevent Charlie from getting too pissed off, but Phil quickly cut him off.

"Sorry babe, Dan's feeling really tired and I don't think he's up for a quick chat right now. I'm taking him home as well, so I guess I'll see you later," Phil spoke, and Charlie just huffed in response, turning and leaving the store.

Dan and Phil followed, walking outside but heading in the opposite direction of Charlie. They walked a couple metres before stopping beside a black 2017 model black Mclaren.

Phil pulled out his keys and unlocked the car, which Dan was still gawking at.

"That's your car?" Dan asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah," Phil rubbed his neck sheepishly. "It's a bit much, but my dad bought for me when I got my licence."

"How the hell did your dad manage to afford that, much less as a simple gift?" Dan retorted, waving his hand wildly while gesturing to the car.

"He um, he's uh, he's a businessman that owns a huge company. He's the CEO, so... it's great that he can provide and do stuff like this, but honestly it sucks because he's rarely around. It's always work, work, work, work with him and it gets so frustrating sometimes. He expects me to take over his business one day, but I just...never mind, sorry for dumping that all on you." Phil said, ushering Dan into the car before getting in himself and starting it up.

"No no, it's fine Phil. Honestly I've dumped a ton of my shit onto you since the moment we met, it's only fair that you get to vent as well. So what were you going to say?" Dan told the older boy, who was concentrating on putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the parking space.

"Well, it's just that I've never been interested in his business. Every time he tries to show me something new about it, it just never sticks with me. I'm not interested. But he doesn't understand that." Phil sighed. He'd managed to get out of the parking space, and was now driving down the road.

"Well, what do you want to be? Like what job do you want to have?" Dan asked.

"Honestly? I uh, I've kind of always wanted to be a weather man," Phil stated, laughing.

"A weather man! A fucking weather man? Oh my gosh Phil," Dan laughed as well, a smile growing large on his face as his dimples showed.

"What? I've always found it interesting, don't judge me," Phil replied in a joking tone, a smile on his face as well. "Also, um, we've been driving for like ten minutes and I still don't know your address..."

"Oh my god I'm such an idiot."

|-/\-|

After quite a few u-turns and a lot of pissed off drivers, Phil had finally managed to drive the two of them to Dan's apartment safely. Sometime during the ride, Dan had fallen asleep somehow, so now Phil was tasked with the delightful job of waking him up. which consisted of a few pokes to Dan's neck, yelling the boy's name, and getting slapped in response by an irritated, but somewhat awake, Dan.

The two made their way inside, Dan sleepily leading the way, stumbling every couple of steps as if he were drunk. It was all very funny to Phil, as he found it amusing to see the younger boy act in such a manner.

When they got to Dan's apartment, Dan opened the door and Phil blindly followed Dan inside, watching as Dan nearly tripped while trying to get to his bedroom.

Dan collapsed onto his bed, allowing the old worn out mattress to catch his fall. He closed his eyes, and almost immediately started to drift into a sleep-like state.

Phil on the other hand, was looking around the tiny apartment, wondering what had happened to Dan's family that required them to all live together in such a small place. But after a few minutes of snooping, the realisation hit Phil like Tyler Joseph hit the floor at Hangout Music festival.

Dan lived alone.

He worked and provided for himself, while at the same time managing his schoolwork, and out of it all he got was a dingy little apartment and very few possessions.

This just sparked Phil's curiosity, as he wondered what had happened to Dan's family.

Setting the though aside, he walked to the boy's bedroom to check on him and saw him lying on his bed, eyes closed and a peaceful look on his face.

"Dan?" Phil called out, unsure of whether or not the younger was asleep. His question was answered when Dan hummed as a response.

"Hey, is it okay if I get some pajamas for you so that you'll be more comfortable?" Phil questioned, his voice soft.

Dan nodded tiredly, so Phil set about searching for a pair of pajamas. When he found, he walked back over to Dan. "Do you want to put these on yourself or do you want me to help you?"

"Help me," Dan mumbled, not moving.

Phil sighed, and looked away as he took Dan's jeans off, replacing them with a pair of sweatpants. He didn't bother to look away when he took off Dan's shirt, but how he wished he did, because if he had, then he wouldn't have had to see the mess that laid under Dan's shirt.

Dan's torso was a canvas of varying shades of blue, purple, and bit of yellow, and had lines of red running across it haphazardly.

"Oh my god..."

Chapter Text

Phil started panicking, pulling Dan's shirt back down and rushing to kneel beside the boy so that they were face-to-face. He picked up Dan's head gently with one hand, holding the boy's cheek with his open palm while he took his free hand and shook Dan's shoulder.

"Hey, Dan, come on I just need you to stay awake for one more minute. Come on, can you tell me who did this?" Phil spoke softly, keeping his voice low. He was getting desperate the longer Dan took to answer. "Dan, come on please."

Dan mumbled something incomprehensible, and Phil asked him to repeat himself not having heard the quiet words the boy had spoken.

After few minutes that consisted of Dan not saying anything Phil had just about given up thinking the boy had fallen asleep, when finally Dan responded.

"Charlie..." He whispered before passing out.

|-/\-|

Phil felt like he was losing his fucking mind. He'd been pacing around Dan's room for the past two hours, not even caring about monotony of his actions. The nerves in his mind were going haywire and he couldn't control his thoughts.

Phil must've misheard Dan. There was no possible way that Charlie could've hurt Dan like that. Charlie was a sweet, caring, humorous and loving boy who could never hurt another human being. He also had no reason for hurting Dan.

So why the fuck would Dan say that Charlie had hurt him?

Phil was practically pulling his hair out by the time Dan woke up. Dan's now conscious presence went unnoticed by Phil though, of course.

Dan had heard the repetitive footsteps first upon waking up. Once he had opened his eyes, they immediately fell upon the black haired and blue eyed boy who was pacing back and forth in front of his bed. The elder was running his hands through his hair and biting his finger nails, which Dan guessed were nervous ticks of the elder.

A minute smile formed on Dan's face. He felt something nice at the thought that the other boy had actually cared enough to stay despite the fact that Dan had passed out. He decided that it would be best to stay quiet and wait for the other boy to notice that he was awake instead startling him.

A few minutes passed before Phil finally took notice of Dan, freezing in his spot where had been pacing. The two boys locked eye contact.

The silence settled between them for several minutes, and grew so thick that if it were a real, physical object, a sharp knife wouldn't even be able to cut through it. Finally, Phil shattered the silence by speaking first, his voice calm and low.

"Hey, Dan, how are you feeling?" He asked, trying to keep his cool. It was most likely all a misunderstanding anyway, he shouldn't be freaking out so much.

"'M okay..." Dan replied quietly, looking down at his hands that were clasped in his lap. He remembered what he had said to Phil before he had passed out. He remembered his mistake.

And now he figured he was going to have to pay for it.

"Hey um, who gave you all those... those bruises, and cuts? What happened?" Phil spoke softly.

Dan looked up and met eyes with Phil, trying to read the older boy's expression. His face held no emotion, but his eyes, his eyes held a perfect mix innocence, confusion, dread, and denial. They weren't their usual bright blue, instead taking on a hue of gray, signalling the turbulent storm that was brewing inside the black haired boy's mind.

Dan knew he had a second chance. He could answer with the name of anybody else in the world other than Charlie and he and Phil could stay friends. Dan would have somebody who cared about him in his life once again.

He could be happy once again.

But at the same time, Dan couldn't stand lying to Phil. So, without any second thoughts, Dan replied to the other in a soft, timid voice.

"Charlie..." He whimpered, looking back down at his hands once again. He didn't want to see Phil's reaction. He knew he wouldn't be able to take it.

A few seconds pass by filled with silence, before Phil suddenly starts shouting.

"What the fuck Dan!" Phil screamed, and Dan jumped a little as the aforementioned boy slammed a fist down onto the corner of Dan's bed. "Why the fuck would you say that Charlie did this? What do you have against him? Do you really think you can drive me away from him by saying that he beat you? Are you fucking crazy?"

Dan sat frozen, now scared of the boy who'd only ever brought him comfort. He felt tears start to run down his cheeks as Phil continued to spit hurtful words at him. He felt his breathing start quicken as Phil just kept on screaming accusations at him for minutes straight.

"And now you're fucking crying! You're such a little bitch, you know that Howell? Fuck, I just can't believe you'd actually accuse Charlie of doing this..." Phil exclaimed, finally starting to calm down. He shot Dan a side glare, before asking, "So? Wanna speak up and tell me why the fuck you're accusing Charlie of hurting you?"

Dan was silent, which only seemed to anger Phil more. "Well!" Phil screeched, his eyes wide and breaths quick, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides.

"Because it's true..." Dan whispered, trying to steady his shaking hands on his lap.

"No it's not!" Phil shouted, his expression holding hints of desperation in it.

"But it is! Please, Phil, just let me explain? Please?" Dan cried, looking up for the first time since Phil went off on his tirade.

Phil stilled, looking hesitant. Dan was the one who was desperate at this point. Charlie had been the one hurting him for so long, and Phil wouldn't believe him. And Phil was about to leave him. Dan's only source of happiness was about to leave him.

"Fine... explain." Phil muttered, sitting down on the edge of Dan's bed, his gaze shifted towards the ground.

"Okay, it um... it started a while ago. Charlie and I have known each other for a while, and he's been hurting me for longer than I can even remember." Dan started, his voice quiet. He kept his gaze on Phil, attempting to gauge the man's reaction. "But um, the bruises you saw... they're recent. Like, really recent. It happened just last week. I um, I had gone to give my landlord my rent for the month, then went to the store to get some groceries. When I got back to my apartment, Charlie was here... He was waiting for me, Phil. He was waiting there with some other guy. They started taunting me, then forced me into my own apartment. They... they hit me, a lot, and they... they raped me, Phil..."

"Shut the fuck up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! You're a fucking liar!" Phil screamed, jumping up from where he had been sitting on the bed. "You're lying! Charlie'd never do that! You're fucking disgusting, Howell! How could you even say that? I fucking hate you!"

Phil turned around started making his way to the door, but Dan stopped him before he could reach it.

In one last attempt to get his point across, Dan called after Phil, asking a rather odd question which caught the other off guard.

"Phil, why do you think you found me on that bridge that night! Why do you think you saved me from jumping?"

Phil didn't turn around, he just stopped in his tracks. It was a question he really didn't know the answer to.

"I don't know, because you're a fucking head case?" Phil called back over his shoulder.

Dan got out of his bed, taking slow shaky steps toward the raven haired boy in front him. "No, Phil." Dan responded calmly. "It's because I just want to end this shitty pain. The pain of being hurt, over and over and over again. My whole life is just one, constant cycle of pain. I just want to end this fucking pain! No matter what I do I always end up getting hurt. I can't live my life without being hurt every. Single. Day. I just want to end this fucking pain. The pain of thinking, the pain of losing everyone around me, the pain of simply existing, the pain from Charlie-" Dan explained, before he was cut off.

"No! Fuck you! Charlie didn't do anything, I know he didn't! He would never. Fuck you Daniel, you're just a lying cunt." Phil exclaimed before storming out of the room. The slam of the front door could also be heard just seconds later.

"-The pain of knowing that I might be falling for you..." Dan whispered to himself, staring at the spot Phil had stood just moments earlier.

Tears blurred the world around Dan.

|-/\-|

Dan never thought that in all his years the best comfort he'd receive would be from the burning liquid that slid down his throat as easily as flames caressed his skin. He knew he'd end up in a bar once again, he just thought that it would be to make next month's rent.

Not to find comfort.

But he also knew deep down that nothing would ever truly make him happy. Nobody would every truly love a pathetic wreck like himself. Phil had proven that to be true when he slammed the door to Dan's apartment, storming off into the night.

So if Dan had to find love in a bottle of cheap rum then so be it.

Hours passed, and Dan found himself dancing with a random (though admittedly attractive) man around 01:00, the man's arms wrapped around Dan's skinny waist as they moved along to the music, the bass pumping like the blood in their veins.

The man Dan was dancing with was about his height, had jet black hair swept up in a quiff, and was wearing a white t shirt, a black jacket and black slacks. He had a voice that was as soft as silk, and Dan found a new comfort in the way the man's lips found his.

They went back to the man's huge apartment that overlooked the entire city. There, the two enjoyed more expensive booze, shared jokes, and drunkenly laughed their way through the night. Dan even tried weed for the first in his life.

Somewhere along the line Dan had learned that the man's name was Brendon.

They enjoyed the rest of the night fucking, drinking and getting high.

And god dammit if it wasn't the best Dan had felt in a long time.

It was also on that night that Dan decided he didn't need Phil to make him happy, and that he wouldn't let Charlie fuck around with him anymore.

Screw them, right?

|-/\-|

Chapter Text

-Johnny Boy

The next morning, Dan woke up with a splitting headache.

He sat up in the bed he'd been lying in and reached up to hold his head, softly massaging his temples in an attempt to get rid of his migraine. The first thing that registered in his hazy mind was that the bed was way too soft to be his own. It was that made Dan realise that he wasn't in own his apartment.

The second thing was that he was stark naked under the covers of the bed.

Panic started to rise in his chest as he rushed to get out of bed and searched around the floor for his clothes.

"Hey, you're up. You okay, sleepy head?" A voice called to Dan's left just as the brown haired boy was getting his boxers on. Dan's head snapped up towards the voice, finding a familiar figure standing in the doorway of the room, cup of what smelled like coffee in one hand, a burning joint in the other.

Dan calmed down a bit as he remembered what he and Brendon had done the night prior. He nodded at the older boy who was still leaning against the door frame, giving him a shy smile.

Brendon let out a quiet laugh before walking to the closet on Dan's left, pulling out a loose black t shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants before tossing them to Dan. "Not sure if those'll fit or not, but you can have them. Anyways, I'm in the middle of making breakfast, just some pancakes, sausage, and fruit. You want some?" Brendon asked while Dan busied himself with getting the clothes on. Surprisingly, they fit decently well.

"Oh yes please, I'm starving." Dan answered, following a laughing Brendon back out into the kitchen.

They ate their meals while getting to know each other, sharing jokes and laughs here and there. When they were finished, Dan helped Brendon clean up, and Brendon gave Dan his phone number "just in case you want to hang out sometime." They bid their farewells, and Dan stepped out into the world.

The second Dan was outside the apartment building, the frosty, mid January air hit him like a truck. He immediately wrapped his arms around his chest, speed walking away from the building. He shivered, his teeth chattering slightly as he walked down the street. He could see his breaths, swirling little clouds of mist in front of his face. He was eager to get back to his apartment, which would still be cold, but definitely not as cold as the air currently surrounding him. He could also pop an Advil for his ever present headache.

About five minutes away from his apartment and Dan was pretty sure his fingertips were turning blue. His skin was covered in goosebumps and he visibly shaking. He wasn't sure if he was actually going to make it to his apartment before he froze, and thought over whether or not it would be worth it to stop at a cafe for a few minutes to warm up before he continued walking.

Lost in thought, he was caught off guard when he heard someone call out to him.

"Excuse me, mister!" Dan looked to his left, and saw a boy about his age sitting against the edge of a building a few metres in front of him, accompanied by two small duffel bags full of what seemed clothes and personal possessions. The boy had light brown hair that sat in a messy mop on his head and had bright green eyes. He was wearing a hoodie, jeans, and a beanie.

Dan walked up to the boy warily, stopping about half a metre in front of him. "Yes?" He asked.

"Sit down for a moment," the boy offered calmly, gesturing to the empty space. When Dan remained standing awkwardly, the boy shot him a kind smile. "Don't worry, I don't bite."

Dan, against his better judgement, sat down next to boy timidly. He sat with his back against the wall behind him, and pulled his knees up to chest trying to get as much warmth as he could. "What did you want-" Dan started, before he was cut off as a giant, warm piece of clothing was draped over his back, engulfing him in warmth. Instantly he reached up and pulled it closer, the article of clothing providing a huge relief from the biting cold.

"You looked like you needed it," the boy beside Dan laughed. "You feel better now mate?"

"Yeah, thank you," Dan sighed out. He offered the boy a friendly smile. "I'm Dan. Who are you?"

The boy looked down shyly. "I'm not really sure..." he answered.

"What do you mean?" Dan asked, confused.

"You see, um, my birth name's Ruby, but uh... It's just that, I'm trans, and Ruby's more of a girl's name, you know? And I uh, I'm not a girl... And I don't have a preferred male name." The boy clarified, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Oh..." Dan hummed in understanding. "That makes sense. Can I, um, ask you something?"

"As long it's about what I have in my pants," The boy stated humorously, letting out a small laugh.

Dan laughed as well, before asking, "Is uh, is that the reason you're out here alone? Did your parents, um..." Dan trailed off, not really sure how to finish the question.

"Kick me out? Yeah." The boy responded, laughing once again, although this time sounded more sad.

"I'm sorry," Dan offered, not really sure what to say.

"Yeah, most people are." It was quiet for minutes, before the boy spoke up once again, the energy evident in his voice again. "Hey, do you mind if I bounce ideas for names off you, Dan?"

Dan gave the boy a happy smile. "Sure, go ahead."

"Okay, so, how about Johnny?"
"Nah, I don't really see you as a Johnny."

"How about Dean?"

"I don't think so."

"Jack?"

"Not really..."

"How about PJ?"

Dan thought it over for a moment, before smiling at the boy. "I think it fits perfectly."

PJ smiled widely. "I like it a lot too. Thank you."

"No problem."

They sat there for a few more minutes in a peaceful silence before an idea popped into Dan's head.

"Hey uh, PJ? How old are you?"

"Um, I'm sixteen. Why?" He responded, looking over at Dan quizzically.

"Would you like to move in with me? I have a small, grungy apartment that I live in by myself. It's really not much, and there's not a whole lot of room, but I'm pretty sure it'd be better than you sleeping out here on the streets." Dan offered, a warm feeling sparking in his chest as the other boy's eyes lit up excitedly and he nodded his head rapidly, a large smile on his face. Dan had finally done something right.

So with that, the two boys stood up, grabbed PJ's bags, and headed to Dan's apartment.

|-/\-|

The next couple days were spent helping PJ get adjusted to living in Dan's apartment. The hardest part for Dan was trying to scrounge up money in order to be able to feed the two of them. So during the first few nights while PJ was sleeping, Dan would go out into town to "work."

He would admit that it wasn't the best way to get money, but it was all he had at the moment. To him, it really didn't matter as he long as he got his cash.

And he did.

In the first few nights, he managed to get a little about £1500. That'd be enough to pay the month's rent and buy a considerable food supply that would hopefully last the two of them a while.

In the meanwhile, PJ had promised that he would start looking for a job, in which Dan recommended his old job at the coffee house.

On the morning that PJ was supposed to go in for his interview, Dan decided that it was time that he went back to school.

Chapter Text

Dan walked up to the front gates, backpack bouncing against his back as the feeling of dread started growing in his chest. He walked into the school, immediately averting his eyes to the ground. He kept to the side of the semi-busy hallway and walked with his head down, hoping that it would make him as invisible as he could physically be to his surrounding peers. He made a bee-line to his first classroom, slipping inside and feeling relief wash over him when he saw that it was vacant.

He pulled an empty notebook out of his bag, along with a pencil, and set them both on the desk in front of him. He started planning out how much money he'd have to save in order for him and PJ (mostly PJ) to have food on the table every day from now on. He had a little over a thousand saved up currently, rent and bills averaged about £800 each month, and now with PJ, they'd probably go up about £50-£100, averaging nearly a thousand a month. In addition, he needed to buy food, and now he needed to get new clothes for PJ. Most of the stuff the boy owned was old and worn.

Clothes would probably be about £50-£100, and the monthly cost of food would be a little more. That meant Dan needed to bring in about £1500-£2000 a month, which realistically shouldn't be that hard, but he's not exactly in the best position to be doing anything currently.

Stressed and tired, Dan put away his notebook and crossed his arms on the table. Seeing that there were another 15 minutes until class started, Dan decided to lay his head down on his arms and get some rest.

|-/\-|

His first class, along with the two that followed, went fine, with Dan learning nothing as usual. He went to break, which was oddly uneventful. His next two classes passed without hassle, but by the time he got to lunch was when everything went to hell.

The bell rang, Dan packed up all of his stuff, and barely two steps out of the door an arm swung itself around Dan's shoulders, forcefully pulling him through the crowd.

"Hey, bud, how've you been?" Charlie's all-too-familiar voice questioned snarkily. Dan could practically hear the venom seeping through his teeth.

They walked a bit, with Charlie more or less forcing Dan along with him, before they stopped in a less populated area in the hallway. Immediately, Charlie had Dan up against the lockers behind him and was up in his face, teeth bared and an animalistic expression upon his features. He looked insane.

"I know what you did, Howell," Charlie seethed, "You fucked up, big time. Don't even try to play dumb anymore. Joe told me, after Phil went running to him asking for advice. And trust me, when I'm done with you, you're going to wish you died when you were supposed to." Charlie let go of Dan and stepped back just enough to change his stance and raise a fist.

But before he could land a hit, a door opened a few metres down the hall, and a teacher stepped out, accompanied by none other than Phil Lester himself.

The two were talking, seemingly oblivious to what was happening between Dan and Charlie right next to them. That is, until the teacher went back inside the classroom and Phil turned around to face the pair. His eyes lit briefly, most likely because he noticed his boyfriend was there, but then narrowed just as quickly at the sight of Dan.

He walked quickly towards the two, and before Dan could run off Charlie slung his arm tightly around Dan's shoulders once again, keeping him trapped.

"Charlie, what are you doing down here? I thought one of the teachers wanted to talk to you or something? And why are you here with... Dan?" Phil inquired, hesitating on Dan's name before forcing it out. Did Phil really think that low of Dan now?

Dan didn't matter to him anymore, did he?

Phil grabbed Charlie's free and tugged him away from Dan as if Dan was some horrible disease that people needed to be protected from. Yep, it was official, the last person that actually cared about Dan also thought that he was the scum of the Earth.

"Oh, I was just making some conversation," Charlie finally responded, changing his expression from a murderous glare to a soft, innocent little look in a matter of nanoseconds. "And it was Mr. Graceffa that wanted to talk to me. Something about some club or whatever. I don't really know."

Phil looked pleased with the answer and turned his attention to Dan. "You know, Charlie, I appreciate that you're trying to get along with people you think are my friends, but I don't advise you get too close to Dan." He spoke, his voice low and void.

There it was. the confirmation that Phil wanted nothing to do with Dan.

"Oh, and why is that?"

Please don't, please don't, come on Phil...

"Because he's the kind of person who loves to break people with fake rumors."

'No, I'm not,' Dan thought.

"He's the kind of person who's selfish. He doesn't want others to be happy."

'But I do!' Dan was clenching his fists now, his head tilted to the ground.

"And he talks about others behind their backs. I hate people who do that. So that's why I'm saying it all now since Dan's right here."

But...

"I hate him. I can't believe I ever thought of him as a friend. Thank you, Charlie, for going through the effort to get along with him, but you really don't have to."

How is it possible for a heart to break multiple times? Because Dan was pretty certain that's what his heart just did.

Chapter Text

Dan stood there, stiff as a statue as he heard Phil and Charlie leave.

Dan was screwed. He knew that much.

Phil hated him. He said it himself.

Charlie wanted nothing more than to gut him.

His family was completely out of the picture.

And PJ. Once PJ got a job, once he figured out to care for himself, which he'd already been doing beforehand anyway, he wouldn't need Dan.

Nobody needed him.

He didn't know what overcame him, but the next thing he knew he was sprinting down the corridor, going as fast his legs could take him, his feet pounding across the smooth tiled flooring of the school.

He stopped outside a bathroom and bent over, resting his hands on his knees for a minute to catch his breath before he walked into the bathroom, checking to see if anyone was inside with him, and locked the door after making sure it was all clear. He walked over to the sinks and set his backpack down before staring at himself in the mirror. Dull, blank eyes with dark bags that rested under them stared back at him in the dirty mirrors.

They belonged to him. They belonged to the boy who was supposed to be long dead. But they couldn't be his. His eyes were supposed to be bright and full of life.

But after everything that's happened to him, he could understand why his eyes looked so dead. Just the past few hours explained it all.

No one wanted him around. Everyone just wanted to watch him die a slow, painful death. He had no one. He was dirty. And worthless. He wasn't normal, he was a freak, he literally went against everything that nature said was normal.

Suddenly, one tear fell.

Then another, and another, and they kept falling until he couldn't see his eyes in the mirror anymore. He let out a loud scream and threw his body forward, his head hitting the mirror which caused it to shatter into hundreds of little pieces before he flew back a couple steps. He ran forward and punched the sink as hard as he could, succeeding in taking off a piece of the corner and getting his hand all bloody. He heard a few bones crack.

He fell to his knees as he let out another scream. He could feel glass shards digging into his kneecaps but he couldn't be bothered to care. Instead, he picked up one of the shards and held it in his shaky hands, twisting it around and around.

After everything, he'd never cut himself. He only burned himself. It might sound stupid, but he was too scared of how painful cutting himself would be. He was scared he might cut too deep.

It was pretty redundant considering his little death tattoo literally said 'suicide.'

But in that moment, Dan stopped caring. He stopped worrying about how painful it would be, or that he could possibly end himself there on the dirty floor of his school's bathroom.

So he brought the blade down to his wrist and started slicing his skin. He usually hated the sight of his own blood, but in that moment he cherished it. It told him he was alive. It told him his breaths had meant something up to that point.

He took his left hand, the one he hadn't cut, and reached into his bag and grabbed his lighter. He flicked it open as skilfully as a Winchester would, the flames bursting to life on the first try. He brought his lighter down to his bleeding wrist and held it against one of the cuts.

That's when (the author physically couldn't keep writing about that scene anymore) Dan's world went black as he heard someone faintly screaming his name.

|-/\-|

Dan woke up sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the cold stone wall of the bathroom. His head was pounding and his wrist was aching.

As Dan's vision cleared, he could make out a distressed Phil pacing around the bathroom. As he looked around himself, he was surprised to see that there was no glass on the floor, his jeans weren't ripped, and all of the mirrors were perfectly fine. He also took note of the fact that his wrist was wrapped in gauze tape.

He focused his gaze on Phil and tried his best to gather up the strength to form audible words.

"Phil...?" Dan whispered, his voice weak and scratchy.

Immediately, Phil's head shot up to look at the younger boy. He stopped his pacing and looked Dan square in the eye, his expression blank. Slowly, Phil took a few steps towards Dan, stopping when he was only about half a metre away from said boy.

"What happened?" Dan spoke quietly, fearful of the boy in front of him.

"You're such a fucking idiot, Daniel Howell," Phil spoke firmly, breaking his silence. "What in the bloody hell were you thinking?"

Dan just sat there, confused. "What are you talking about?" He asked.

Phil kneeled down in front of the boy and reached out, sighing when Dan flinched back. He grabbed the younger's wrist gently and held it out so it was in the middle between the two of them.

"I'm talking about this, Dan," Phil started, taking his free hand and running a finger over the bandage gently. "When I got here you were screaming and scratching your arm raw."

Dan didn't remember doing that. He remembered destroying the bathroom and cutting his arm open.

"I... I didn't do that..." Dan whispered timidly.

"Are you sure? Cause I'm pretty fucking sure that's what I saw you doing about a half hour ago before you passed out!" Phil exclaimed, letting go of Dan's wrist.

Dan immediately retracted his arm, hugging it close to his chest. He looked at Phil, trying to decipher how the boy with crystal blue eyes and midnight black hair had gone from caring and sweet a few days ago, to hostile and rude now.

Dan knew it was his fault though. Just like how everything else that had happened was his fault.

Dan felt tears springing to the corners of his eyes once again as he watched the boy in front of him stand up, grab his own backpack off the floor and walk to the door of the bathroom.

"Fucking hell Howell, you're such a crazy headcase, it's no wonder no one likes you. First, you accuse my boyfriend of raping and beating you, cheating on me in the process, and now you can't even remember your little dramatic meltdown. What a lunatic." Phil muttered before walking out the door and slamming it shut. [Brendon Urie is proud of you for closing the goddamn door, Phil. Otherwise, you've been an asshole]

Dan felt the tears that had been gathering start to fall. He looked down at his wrist and smiled to himself through his tears.

Phil might've been angry, but he took it upon himself to at least wrap-up Dan's wrist. It meant he still cared, right? It had to. In Dan's mind, it meant that he had to still care. And Dan's heart held onto that, even though it was probably worth nothing.

It was worth everything to him.

|-/\-|

Chapter Text

So, it's been a while.
I'm so fucking sorry.
I really didn't mean to be gone that long. I didn't mean to leave at all.
It just kind of... happened. The first month was a mental health thing. I couldn't take being on the computer any longer. I was going on treatment. It was doctor appointment after doctor appointment, and a million different therapists and doctors trying to figure out what the hell to do with me. Holidays, holidays, needles, holidays. Yay.
December just passed me by.
And then January.
And then February.
And then March.
Actually no, March hasn't passed me by. It ran me over like a fucking tornado.
I can't keep continuing my treatment the way I am. Finals are coming up. I have to move schools. I have to leave friends. I have to break it off with longtime friends. My sessions ended with my therapist, and now my next therapy appointment isn't for another few weeks, and I need to talk to her so, so badly. My anxiety is wrecking me. Paranoia has encased my brain in a makeshift cage of doubt and worry.
But I'm back.
I'm writing again.
Even if it's only to finish the few books I have up currently. Lucky (which is titled Flames on Wattpad) and my Lawlight series on Wattpad. If any of you were reading Stockholm Syndrome here on AO3, it's not going to be updated. I'm going to take down the second chapter and leave it as a one-shot. If you want to read something like that book, then I'd suggest Keep Him. It's much better.
But anyway, that's the gist of what's happening.

Now onto more important things.
How are you all? Like seriously, I want to know how you all are doing. Because I haven't talked to any of you in months. I hope you're all okay. Really.

And this book.
Yes, this book.
It is going to be continued.
But I'm doing a lot of re-writing. Like, a lot. It's still going to be the same story, but with a lot of changes. More development. More relationships. Better explanations.
Basically, I want to make it better because even though you all like it, I feel it's shit.
Even if it is the best story I've written to date, and the book I'm most of proud of.
As I tried to keep writing it, it was like shoving together puzzle pieces that didn't fit. The flow wasn't as good.
That was also another reason I stopped writing for a while.
I couldn't write as easily as I could before. Writing is therapy for me. And when it got hard, when it got stuck, I dropped it.
I couldn't face the huge challenge looming over me that was re-writing. I couldn't.
But now I'm going to try. I'm going to try because of you all.
Because you all mean the absolute world to me. You all.
You're my inspiration. My motivation.
And there's no way in hell I'm leaving an unfinished piece behind when you're all telling me to update.

So, there we go.

My first piece of writing in months.
My first words to the internet in almost half a year.
My note to you all, letting you know I'm not dead.
And I know some of you, the ones who have been here from the very beginning will truly understand the weight of that last line.

So this is what's going to happen:
I'm going to start re-writing.
As I finish chapters, I'm going to replace previous chapters.
And I'm going to do my damn hardest to keep you all updated and talk to you guys.
Like, actually talk. Not just short thank yous and long silences anymore.
Cause I love you all.
SO IF YOU LIKED IT, PUNCH THAT LIKE BUTTON IN THE FACE, LIkE a bOSS!
The Game Is On
(Help me please I'm trash)

Also, I guess now is as good as time ever, especially if I'm updating now. It's around the right time.
Happy fucking birthday Lucky, the book that has given me so much.

Chapter Text

Dan's earliest memory was one of his parents fighting. He was just a little kid, maybe no older than five. It was late at night, and he'd been having a nightmare. There was a monster chasing him. A big one. One that loomed over him, ginormous and threatening. Its body was long and scorched black, pieces of flesh peeling in certain areas. It was quick and steady on its feet, and everything that it touched, everything that it left behind in its path was on fire. Dan was being chased through a dark wood, one that was similar to the dense forest outside his home. He ran and ran, as fast as his small legs could take him. His feet were aching, and it felt as if the monster had reached inside of him and grasped his own two lungs, setting them alight.

The leaves crunched under his feet. Twigs snapped in two as he stomped through the forest, branches smacked him in the face as he flew past them, and small rocks and sharp pebbles dug into the soles of his feet he ran, ran, ran. He prayed internally that a small animal would take his place. That the monster's attention would be diverted by a rabbit or a deer, and that he could escape. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted to be free.

But somehow, deep inside, he already knew that he was alone. That in the entirety of the forest, there was not one other single living creature other than him, and the monster that wished to kill him. He was alone.

So he kept running. He kept running, sprinting as far and long as he could. But his luck, if it even existed in the first place, finally gave way, and his foot caught on a hidden root from one of the nearby trees. It was then that the monster had caught up to Dan, and instead of picking him up and devouring him like the monsters in the many other stories he'd read, ran past him, and left him behind much like it had the rest of the forest.

And suddenly, Dan was being engulfed in flames, high and wide and scorching. The pain was unbearable. He'd been told that you weren't supposed to feel pain in dreams. Of course, once again, everybody had lied to him.

He woke up in a sweat, his eyes shooting open, his breathing irregular, his heart beating out of his chest. He felt frozen in the spot he laid in, even if it was only for a few moments. But he was scared. What if the monster came back in real life? What if it set his own home alight?

His young, imaginative mind raced as he shot up from the bed, threw his Winnie The Pooh covers back and ran out into the hallway. There were two other doors in the hall. One that leads to his baby brother, Andrew's, room, and one to his parent's room. The door to his brother's room down the hall was open, as were his parent's, but the lights were off in all of them. Instead, he could see the lights on downstairs, coming from what he guessed was the kitchen.

He made his way to the stairs, and started down them slowly, being extra careful to not make a sound. He heard his parents' voices coming from the bottom of the stairs. Their tones were sharp, hushed, and angry. As Dan descended the stairs even further, their voices grew a little in amplitude, by not by much. And once he was finally three-fourths the way down the stairs, his parents finally came into view. His father was throwing his hands around like mad, and he grasping a bunch of letters in his hands that Dan assumed to be bills, whilst his mother stood there, glaring down his father, her hands twisted in her long dirty-blonde hair.

"We're drowning in these, Marie! But you can't be bothered to care, can you? You're so fucking out of it that you don't even care anymore!" His father raged, picking up another bill from the counter and throwing it at his wife.

"No, no, you're wrong. I do care-!" His mother shot back, only to be interrupted by her husband once again.

"Well, you sure have a great way of showing it! You seriously think getting high out of your mind is a way to show that you care? It only shows that you can't even give a shit to be lucid enough to pay attention to real life anymore! We have kids to take care of!"

"Don't you think I know that? I'm the one who carried them! How the fuck could you believe for even one second that I don't care about them? I love them more than anything else, I want what's good for them as much as you do!"

"Oh really? Well, how the hell are they supposed to get through college if I'm the only working? If I can barely afford to pay the bills and put food on the table every night? You say you care so much, but you don't. Fucking. Do. ANYTHING!" That was the first loud voice Dan heard that night. The first time either of his parents raised their voices.

"Mark, keep your voice down! Dan's asleep, and so is the baby! You don't have to go and wake them up!" Dan's mother hissed, finally removing her hands from her scalp and using them to push his father backward a couple of steps.

"Oh no, oh don't you fucking start! You think you can tell me what to do? You get a say once you're not high as a fucking kite! Tell me, are you high right now?" His father seethed.

Silence followed.

"I knew it..." His father muttered, lowering his head. "Two choices, Marie. You can have me, and the kids or you can have the coke and the heroin if that's what you're so fond of these days. I don't want the kids growing up in a drug den. Two choices, Marie. Two. What will it be?"

It went quiet for several seconds. Then the seconds started turning into minutes. And finally, Dan's father spoke up once again.

"You fucking bitch..." He started, and then Dan's mother burst into tears.

And that's the moment Dan decided to reveal himself. He didn't understand what was going on, really, but he knew his mother was upset, and he wanted to comfort her. The big strong woman in his life that chased away all the monsters.

He ran out from his hiding spot on the stairs, and dashed into the kitchen where his parents were standing, and wrapped his arms around his mother's leg, letting her know that he was there. Letting her know that he still loved her.

She, along with his father, seemed shocked to see Dan appear out of nowhere. And their conversation ceased, and Dan's mum wrapped her arms around her small little boy, letting him know that everything would be okay. That she was okay. That his parent's relationship was okay.

But in reality, it wasn't. But Dan didn't like sad stories. So he fell for the story in which his family lived a happy ever after, tucked away in a small cottage in a small village in the large countryside.

And after a few minutes passed, his mother and father both individually reassuring Dan, Dan let go of his mother's leg. And in turn, his mother turned around and reached behind her, grabbed an envelope, and knelt down beside the small boy. She pulled him into a hug, and handed him the envelope, smiling at him all the while.

Dan excitedly opened the envelope, and inside there was a small, Shiba Inu plushie keychain. He let a small squeal of happiness and turned around to hug his mum. She smiled down at him while he repeatedly voiced his thanks for the gift. He hugged the plush dog close to his chest as both his mum and dad walked him back upstairs and tucked him back into bed.

In that moment, everything was okay.

The next morning, his whole world fell apart.

He woke up to screaming. Loud, shrill cries that rang in his ears, accompanied by another, louder high pitched scream that filled the whole house. His vision was foggy and his lungs ached, and it was almost impossible to breathe. A thick smoke filled the air, along with a strong, unbearable heat. He started coughing and cried out for somebody, anybody to help him. It took only a few moments for his dad to come bursting into the room, already carrying his crying baby brother in his arms, and picked up Dan as well, racing out the house with both of them over his shoulders. Dan's father ran out into the yard and over to their family car, where he dropped both Dan and Andrew in the back seat before taking a seat at the wheel. He put the key in the ignition, started the engine, and the three of them were out of the driveway in a flash. It took Dan several minutes to calm down, get his lungs working again, and take in his bearings before his mind finally took in the situation.

"Dad, where's mum?" He whimpered, his voice catching in his throat.

Silence.

That was Dan's oldest memory. The time where the demon from his dreams came to life and left a scorched path in its wake.

The time where his mother fell victim to one of the world's many, many demons.

Chapter Text

After the accident, Dan's father bought a small flat in a small town just outside of Doncaster. It wasn't much, but it was big enough that all of three of them got their own room. There was a small kitchen and a family room that wasn't much bigger than the kitchen. There was a small bathroom with a toilet, sink, and small shower. Which, really, is all you need when it comes to a bathroom, but Dan just didn't like that he had to share it.

In the main room, they had small, worn sofa, a slightly chipped wooden coffee table, and a TV. The kitchen consisted of a sink, a stove oven, and a fridge. They didn't have much food. In each of their bedrooms, there was a bed and a small bedside dresser that held the little number of clothes that they owned. They truly only kept the bare essentials.

In the span of two months, Dan's father got a new job as an assistant manager at the local supermarket. Dan was enrolled at the local school for the next school year, which was supposed to start in three months in August. Andrew had started crawling, and it wouldn't be long until he started walking, either. Too bad Dan's mother wouldn't be there to see it. Dan missed her terribly. Even if she was distant at times, and often a bit out of it, and even though she often left the house in a bit of a mess, she cared for them. Truly. She made sure that they ate every day, and she spent time playing with Dan, fueling his imagination by running around with him out in the forest and waving around little sticks that they found on the ground. Some days they pretended to be explorers who got lost in the woods, and other times they pretended to be pirates whose ship had crashed onto a nearby shore and were then looking for shelter. And when it would rain, Dan's mother would teach him how to cook simple things. For instance, he knew how to make a sandwich and how to prepare a cup of noodles, along with how to pour a bowl of cereal. He also knew how to bake his favourite, chocolate cake. Even on a bad day, dad would always light up with happiness when he saw the sweet desert waiting on the counter when he got home.

But now there'd be no more of that. Because Dan's mother wasn't with them anymore. She'd been caught by the monster from Dan's dream. And now, they were living in a flat in a town that Dan had never known. Dan's father was always working, day and night, always on overtime, and on the rare occasion that Dan was awake to witness his father arriving home, he noticed that his father always seemed knackered. He'd stumble about for a bit, make something quick to eat, then pass out on the couch. Sometimes, he'd come home with food. Most of the time he didn't. But it didn't matter, either way, Dan didn't eat much himself and neither did his dad.

Since Dan's father was always working, Dan was left to care for Andrew and all that mattered was that there was enough food for the little toddler. Dan kept his little brother entertained most of the day by sitting him in front of the TV and watching cartoons with him, then feeding him something. Then he'd put on a new show, and the cycle would repeat. Every few hours Andrew would fall asleep, but only for a couple minutes, before waking with newfound energy and the want to crawl around the cramped flat. Dan would chase him around for a little while, before settling in back in front of the telly. And come six pm, Dan would feed Andrew, then bathe him, before tucking him in his crib and heading to his room to rest for the night. It was utterly boring and monotonous.

After another month or so, Dan's father finally stopped working overtime as often and was finally home more, which meant that he took over toddler duties when he wasn't too tired. He spent some more time with the two of them, though he paid more attention to Andrew because Dan's little brother always turned into an attention seeking brat whenever their dad was home. But it was fine. Dan was okay with it. He'd been getting used to being alone, the previous months having conditioned him well him enough. In fact, he actually found himself looking forward to the times that his dad worked over time.

It wasn't like he was much use at home, anyway.

After yet another month, little Andrew had finally taken his first steps, and Dan had been the only one there to witness them. He cheered on his baby brother and looked on with pride as he hobbled about for a few moments before falling unceremoniously on his bum. If only their mum had been able to see it...

It was a bittersweet milestone.

It was also around this time that Dan started noticing that there would be beer bottles scattered around the flat randomly on some mornings. He'd wake up, go to make breakfast, and see a couple scattered around on the counter. Then he'd head for the sofa, and discover some more. He'd always gather them up, and toss them in the bin, worried that Andrew might get into them otherwise and hurt himself. He couldn't wait until school started. It would provide him relief from the dullness of the life he was currently living.

In the month before school started, Dan's life seemed to start going even more downhill. As if that was even possible. His father came home every night now, fumbling about the dimly lit flat and tripping over his feet. He smelt of alcohol each time. Some nights, he'd come later than usual, and Dan would hear his voice accompanied by that another. One that belonged to a girl.

Dan didn't like to think about those nights.

On Sundays, though, Dan's father would stay home from work the whole day. He stayed sober, too. At least, until night fell. On Sundays, the three of them would attend church. Dan never spoke to anybody. His dad always spoke to the same girl, a rather short woman in her thirties, with long cascading brown hair that fell in layered waves that complemented her ocean blue eyes. Dan preferred standing off to the side, catering to Andrew.

About a week before school started, the girl that Dan's father talked to at church moved in with them. She stayed in the same room as his father. Dan didn't like her. She was too nice, too polite, too happy, too energetic.

She was perfect.

But she wasn't his mother. Nobody could ever replace Dan's mother. Especially not this random lady. Dan told this to his father.

That was the first time he'd ever been hit.

He supposed it wasn't much, nothing like the punches he'd seen thrown at people on certain television programs that he'd watched. And it definitely wasn't a knife to the stomach, or a bullet to the brain, or decapitation... some things he'd seen on the show "Supernatural." He liked that one.

But his dad had done nothing more than slap him on the cheek.

It didn't matter. It was okay that it bruised. Dan was strong, and he'd wear the mark with pride, a show of his strength.

On his first day of school, all of the kids made fun of him.

Nothing was okay.

Chapter Text

By the age of ten, Dan had learned a lot. He learned that certain words and actions resulted in him getting hit, or having a bottle thrown at him. He learned that nice looking people could be deceitful. He learned that when the people who were supposed to act in a role of authority failed you, it was up to you to care for everyone else. In his case, that meant that he, as the older brother, was supposed to be Andrew's protector. His carer. His parent. Dan took the hits so that his little brother didn't have to. He let the broken shards of glass pierce his own skin so that they wouldn't have the chance to tear into Andrew's.

Lastly, he learned that everyone, /everyone/ lies.

His dad's girlfriend, Amelia, soon became his dad's wife and Dan and Andrew's stepmother. Whereas she had started out sweet and kind, tending to Dan and Andrew, relieving Dan of some of the parental duties he had taken on, she soon let the mask fall, and it was onto Dan that mask fell and shattered. The broken shards held kind words and pretty smiles, sweet lullabies that had, Dan hated to admit, lulled him to sleep once or twice.

Though Dan had hated her before for, in all honesty, no particular reason, now he had valid reasons to hate her. She had a job, but it was only part-time, and she spent much more time at the apartment then she did at work. She always controlled what was playing on the Telly, and when father wasn't home to spit virulent words at Dan, Amelia did so in his place. She also littered beer bottles around the apartment, just like Dan's father.

When it came to dinner, she cooked a good meal for herself and her husband, leaving Dan and Andrew with only meagre servings. She never looked after Andrew anymore, leaving Dan once more with all the parental responsibilities he'd taken on prior to her arrival.

Regardless, life went on. Dan quickly learnt how to deal with her after the time he had spent learning to deal with his father. In the end, they were both very predictable.

As the years passed, not much changed. By the time Andrew was starting primary school, Dan was starting in secondary school. Every day, Dan would wake up, clean up his father and Amelia's mess, make a small lunch for Andrew, then walk his little brother to school before heading off to his own classes. He never made lunch for himself.

Dan had one friend at school - Charlie. They met in year 7 and quickly became friends as they had several classes together. Charlie and his family had just moved from Worcester, and for Dan, it was great to have someone who hadn't been at his previous school. Someone who didn't know him as the weirdo, or as the loner. Someone who just knew him as "Dan." Someone who accepted him for who he was, and didn't mind that he came from a terrible family, or that he had a lot of issues.

Charlie helped Dan feel okay.

In year 8, it was Charlie who came out first, telling Dan that he was bisexual.

Dan came out as gay a week after.

|-/\-|

Halfway through year 8, Dan and Charlie started dating. It was meaningless, young love. A little fling that would eventually end in heartbreak as most young romances did. Dan knew this, but he didn't care. He was just happy to have someone who loved him, who actually cared about him. Of course, his brother loved him, but that was different. That was familial love. What Charlie gave Dan was different.

Yes, they did keep it a secret. Neither were keen on coming out to their school, and Dan was exceptionally hesitant on even mentioning the topic of sexuality around his family.

By year 9, Charlie had joined the football team, and as a result, instantly became one of the popular kids. Everyone adored him.

Dan knew he wouldn't be seeing much of his boyfriend after that. But it was okay, it didn't matter. Dan knew Charlie was his, and that was all that was important.

|-/\-|

At the age of 14, Dan decided to come out to his family. Charlie had already come out to his family a year ago, and at that point, Dan had nothing left to lose. He packed a bag and explained to Andrew the night beforehand that he might have to leave for a while, and that Andrew wouldn't hear from him for a long time. They had a bit of an emotional night saying goodbye.

Dan knew it was wrong to leave his little brother in the midst of that hell hole, but Andrew had always been the favourite anyways. Dan could only hope for the best for his baby brother.

The next morning, both his father and Amelia were home for breakfast. Dan didn't even get the chance to look at what little food had been made to keep him alive. He just blurted out the words he'd been meaning to say and waited for the inevitable screaming match that was to ensue.

For the record, only Amelia started screaming. She shouted about how a fag would not get to live in her house, and how Dan was going to hell (to which Dan may or may not have made a comeback remark about how he'd be happy to go to hell, seeing that he could be with all the other gay people that were supposedly there as well.)

He didn't remember much after that. All he remembered was that there was a bottle flying towards his head and that he could hear the screams of his baby brother from down the hall. Once he came to and was finally aware of his surroundings and current situation, he ran to his room and grabbed the bag he had prepared, and ran out of the apartment.

From there, he headed to Charlie's house.

It was there that he was welcomed with open arms and heartfelt apologies about what he had to go through. It was there that he was offered a place to stay. It was there that he learnt what it meant to have a loving family.

It also helped that he and Charlie got to spend more time together.

|-/\-|

One night, at the age of fifteen, Charlie's parents left for the night to attend a formal charity engagement, leaving Dan and Charlie home alone. They were sitting on the sofa surrounded by popcorn, watching some cheesy romance movie on the telly. Halfway through the movie, Charlie insisted on bringing out some of his parent's liquor collection. Dan, having seen the effects that alcohol and liquor can have on people, declined a drink. Of course, Charlie managed to down five shots of vodka in ten minutes.

In the next twenty, Charlie was completely shits and giggles and hands. Dan honestly enjoyed this version of Charlie. It was nice to see him let go of that seriousness that always seemed to surround him. It was nice to actually sit down and have a nice laugh.

It was nice, that is until Charlie got a bit too handsy. When Dan felt a hand roaming near his dick, he jumped away, electing to move to the edge of the couch.

Upon Dan mentioning that he felt he wasn't ready, Charlie drunkenly pointed toward the TV, on which a mediocre sex scene was playing.

"Wanna be like them... with you," Charlie mumbled, before bursting out into a fit of giggles.

"I don't think-" Dan started, but was cut off by lips meeting his in a sloppy kiss.

In a matter of minutes, Charlie had his tongue down Dan's throat, one hand up Dan's shirt, and another down the front of Dan's jeans, stroking him through his boxers. Dan was freaking out, his mind racing, his heart rate going crazy. Yet, he couldn't muster up the strength to move his arms, to push Charlie off of him.

Before Dan could comprehend what was happening, his shirt was being ripped off along with his jeans and boxers, leaving him completely exposed. Charlie had lifted himself off of Dan for a brief moment to undo his jeans, and Dan took that moment to grab hold of his boyfriend's hands.

"Charlie, please, don't do this. You're drunk. You don't... You don't want to do this. I don't want to do this. Please, Charlie, stop-" Dan managed to get out before his arms were being twisted so that Charlie could hold his hands above his head, leaving him completely vulnerable.

"Of course I want to do this," Charlie giggled, "and if I want to do it, then you do too, obviously. That's how things have always been between us."

Dan didn't have the chance to reply before fingers were shoved into his mouth, and then into his arse before something much more painful was shoved inside of him.

It felt like forever until Charlie finally finished and pulled out, before passing out on the couch. It took Dan at least an hour until he was finally able to get up, shakily gather his clothes and take a shower. He slept in the guest bedroom that night.

|-/\-|

When Dan awoke the next morning and cautiously made his way downstairs, he was met with a clean living room and the sight of Charlie frantically pacing back and forth, hands gripping his hair.

Upon noticing Dan's presence in the room, Charlie immediately ran up to Dan and engulfed him in a hug, to which Dan responded by instantly pushing Charlie away. Charlie apologized profusely, promising that it wouldn't ever happen again. Saying that he was drunk and didn't realise what he was doing.

Being the naive teenager that he was, Dan accepted Charlie's apology.

|-/\-|

When it happened again at the beginning of year 11, Dan broke up with Charlie and moved out.

Charlie wasn't happy with Dan.

And with that came the painful reminder that everyone, whether they love you or not, lies.

The memory that Dan had been suppressing for six years.

Chapter Text

After leaving Charlie's place, one bag over his shoulder, another one in hand, and his phone and wallet in his back pocket, Dan checked into a crappy motel with mould growing on the walls and mysterious stains on the bedsheets and carpet. He didn't have anywhere else to go, so the motel would have to suffice.

By dating a player of the football team, Dan, of course, had popularity. But it wasn't anything significant. People were only nice to Dan because they didn't want to piss off Charlie. In truth, they all still hated him. He was still the weirdo, still the loner from primary school. So now that Charlie was gone, Dan could only imagine what school would be like.

Hell. It was like hell.

The second Dan walked through the doors the next day, he could hear the rumours being passed from one group of friends to the next, could feel the sneers and hateful looks being thrown his way. The words fag, slut, whore, and pervert seemed to be in no shortage that day, especially when they were in reference to the one and only, Dan Howell.

Dan couldn't make it through one corridor without being shoved or pushed. Everyone he passed seemed to have venomous words on their tongues reserved just for him. When he passed by Charlie's table at lunch, Charlie took pride in tripping his ex-boyfriend, while another one of his friends decided it would be fun to land a kick in Dan's side. They laughed at and mocked him before getting up to leave.

But before Charlie and his friends could leave the cafeteria, against his better judgement, Dan called out to them.

"What did I do?" He screamed. "What did I ever do to you? What did I do to deserve this? You came onto-"

"What did you do?" Charlie replied calmly, not even bothering to turn. "You came onto /me/, Howell. Multiple times. I had to push you off, remember?"

"No..."

"Oh yeah." Charlie slowly turned around, just enough so that he could look at Dan, who was struggling to pick himself up off the floor. "I gave you a place to stay after your parents kicked out. I loved you when your own dad hated you. After your precious mum got high off her tits and burned herself alive. I gave your sorry ass everything you could've needed, and yet you still found a way to try and take advantage of me."

Dan gave up on trying to push himself up off the floor and settled instead for sitting like a pile of flesh and loose bones. He stared on in horror as Charlie degraded him in front of the whole school, spewing lies wrapped in truths like neat little bows.

"So fuck you, Howell. I don't want anything to do with you, you perverted, filthy asshole." Charlie sneered, before turning back around and walking out of the cafeteria with his friends, who were each high-fiving Charlie.

Barely moments later, Dan felt a pile of slop get dumped on his head, followed by the lunch tray it came from. Then another, and another, until Dan was pretty sure he'd been turned into everyone's personal trash can.

|-/\-|

When Dan arrived back at his motel room that night smelling of rotten meat and spoiled milk, he instantly shed himself of his clothing, throwing into a corner of the room. He then tore through his bags, searching for something very special to him.

He found it buried in the bottom of his second, larger bag.

His mum's lighter. He'd found it in the ruins of his old house when he went back one day, with Charlie.

He flicked open the beautiful, metal lighter with a Chinese dragon etched into the side and watched as the flames burst to life, dancing around in front of his eyes. The light emitted cast long, dark shadows across the walls of his rooms, mixing with the dull light of the setting September sun. He sat there for a while, just staring at the flames before eventually he lifted the lighter and held it above his right wrist, just under his tattoo.

His special, cursed tattoo. The one that told of how he would die.

As the sun set outside of his small window, Dan lowered the lighter onto the word suicide.

Chapter Text

The next day, Dan didn't bother with attending school. He needed to forget his miserable life, to escape. He also needed money. So with those thoughts in mind, Dan headed out, wallet, phone, and a fake ID at the ready.

He ended up at a small bar in one of the poorer parts of the city and luckily made it past the doorman with his fake ID. Inside, it wasn't that busy, but Dan supposed that was standard for a bar at ten in the morning. Most of the customers who were there were older people in their late 40s to 50s sipping on tamer drinks. Dan took a seat on one of the stools at the bar, where a single bartender in his early twenties was wiping the counter. He was slightly taller than Dan, had his brown hair up in a quiff, showing off his somewhat large forehead. He had a couple of tattoos running down the length of his left arm.

"Can I get you something?" He asked, breaking Dan's stupor.

"Uh, can I have a beer?" Dan asked timidly, scratching the back of his neck, a nervous tick he'd developed over the years.

"Sure, coming right up." The Bartender said, pulling a bottle out from under the counter. He held it out for Dan, but before he could grab it, the tattooed man pulled the bottle away. "You know, technically, you're not even supposed to be in here."

"What do you mean?" Dan replied nervously.

"I mean, you're a minor and I can kick you out right now, because, you're not even supposed to have made it through the front door." The man explained, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh..." Dan sighed. "Well, then I guess you need a better doorman." He got up, ready to leave when the man called after him.

"Hey, hey, get back here," he beckoned, "Just because I can kick you out, doesn't mean I will." Upon seeing the quizzical look on Dan's face, he laughed and continued. "Okay, so legally, I'm really not supposed to be giving you this, but here."

He handed the bottle back to Dan, and Dan reached out once again hesitantly, letting out a breath when he found that the tattooed Bartender was actually letting him have the beer this time. "Thank you..." he mumbled, before fumbling around with the cap of the bottle trying to get it off. It took him a minute, but he finally got it open. He stared down the bottle, into the dark abyss inside.

"You gonna drink it? I mean, that's kinda what it's meant for." The Bartender laughed. He was stood behind the bar with his elbows resting upon the countertop, looking at Dan, waiting for him to take a drink.

Dan paused for a moment, remembering how his father and stepmother got when they were drunk. All the hurt they caused. The mess.

In one quick motion, Dan lifted the bottle to his mouth, feeling the liquid hit the back of his throat. He immediately gagged on the horrid substance, quickly setting the bottle down. He could hear the man behind the bar chuckling.

"Thought not. First one's always tricky, not everyone really likes it. Especially if their parents were drunks."

Dan's head snapped up that, and he stared at the man in disbelief. How was it possible that he knew?

"It takes one to know one, kid." He explained, laughing still, before reaching out to take the abandoned beer bottle. He wiped off the top and downed the bottle himself.

"Yours too?" Dan asked carefully, folding his hands in his lap and watching as the older set down the now empty bottle.

"Oh yeah," the man burped. "My pa. Oh boy, he was some work. Came home every night smelling like he'd just been shit and pissed on and started beating on me and bossing my mum around. Hate him. But hey, I guess kids really do take after their parents, huh?" He breathed, gesturing between himself and the empty bottle sitting on the counter.

"You don't sound like your father," Dan offered, moving his hands up onto the counter. He enjoyed talking to this man. He was easygoing, unlike anyone else Dan had ever met.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, your dad sounds like an angry dude who had no respect for himself or his family. You, you're a cool guy. You're watching out for the people around you, it seems. You actually have some self-respect. You're making a life for yourself..."

"Brendon." The man supplied. "Name's Brendon Urie."

"Nice to meet you, Brendon. Nice life you're making." Dan smiled, pleased with his lame attempt at a joke. Fortunately, Brendon found it amusing as well.

"Well, what's your story, minor?" He inquired light-heartedly.

"Mum died in a house-fire, dad moved with my brother I, discovered the apparent joy of being an alcoholic, remarried to another alcoholic. I came out, then they kicked me out. Boyfriend just broke up with me and my entire school hates me."

"Wow, holy hell," Brendon sighed.

"Basically." Dan laughed, trying to keep the conversation light.

"So, where you staying now?" Brendon asked.

"What, so you can come kill me in my sleep?" Dan joked, a small smile etched into his expression.

"Really? Is that what you think of me? An axe murderer?" Brendon gasped, holding his hand to his heart in feigned pain.

"Well hey, can you blame me? I just met you." Dan laughed. "I'm staying in some run down motel a couple blocks from here."

"Oh? How've you got the money for that?" Brendon stood up straight now, leaning back against the counter behind him.

"Um, well, that's actually one of the reasons I came in here."

"Ah, you saw the help wanted sign."

"Yeah. So, uh, you got any openings I could take?" Dan asked, hopeful.

"Well, here's the thing." Brendon started, looking away from Dan and surveying the rest of the bar. "You're still a minor. So, technically, for legal reasons, I can't have you working behind the bar. But, if you want, you could work inventory. It's simple, just take stock of everything we have before and after closing, and place orders for things we need more of. Simple, right?"

"Yeah, sounds pretty good." Dan smiled. "So, you'll hire me?"

"You know that's not how that works, right?"

"How what works?"

"The hiring process. Typically, I'm supposed to interview you and run a quick background check."

"Oh, well-"

"But, given your history, I'll take your word for this. You're hired. If you want, you can start tonight, just after closing." Brendon explained, giving Dan a small wink.

Dan nodded fervently, thanking Brendon over and over.

The older man smiled and ruffled Dan's hair playfully, telling him it was no big deal, and that if he turned out to be some psycho he'd be fired on the spot.

Dan was ecstatic. For once, things had actually gone his way.

Chapter Text

The following week was nothing but repetitive and uneventful. Not much in school changed, beside the fact that Charlie started actively taking part in the more physical aspects of bullying Dan. Everyday, Dan would walk into school, get roughly shoved around by multiple people, get beat on by Charlie and his friends, be used as a human trash can, and be taunted and threatened. It was an endless cycle.

Occasionally, he also got the random dick or two drawn on his locker in sharpie. He was starting to build up quite a collection.

Evenings were, to put it simply, a gift from heaven for Dan. Every night, Dan would make the moderately long trek from his school to Brendon's bar, which was simply named, "PANIC." Dan didn't understand the reasoning behind the name, not even after five times of Brendon trying to explain it to him. Eventually Dan just accepted it, and relished the amount of time he got to spend in the place. Each night, he'd go in through the back door and set his stuff down on the wall, before peeking his head out the door of the supply room and give a quick greeting to Brendon, letting the older man know that he was there. He was always acknowledged with either a nod, a smile, a thumbs up, or all three.

Dan would then take a seat on one of the empty crates in the room, and use his free time to work on homework or study. Just because his school life was terrible didn't mean he planned on flunking classes.

Once he finished with his schoolwork, he used the remaining hours before closing time to get started on taking inventory, placing orders for items the bar was low on. Whiskey tended to go pretty quickly, and Dan suspected that that wasn't because it was a favourite of the patrons, but rather because of Brendon's personal drinking habits. Dan let it go (LET IT GO~) and did his job.

After closing, Dan did a final inventory check, and placed any last orders that needed to be filled. Brendon would go in and sit with Dan, and they'd talk about their days over some drinks. Whiskey for Brendon, and a, though not always, virgin Pina Colada for Dan.

It seemed that every night without fail, Brendon always asked Dan about the new bruises or cuts he'd acquired that day. Likewise, Dan repeatedly brushed him off and dismissed his injuries as being nothing more than the results of his clumsiness. Brendon would never push him further or inquire about details, because honestly, they were both already aware that Brendon knew exactly how Dan had gotten his injuries. Instead, he incessantly reminded the younger that he was always there for Dan, and would gladly stand up for him against a bunch of kids if need be. Dan always made sure to express his gratitude for Brendon.

They'd talk for a little while longer, before they each eventually headed home. For Dan, it still felt weird to be calling the motel his home, but then again he supposed it was the closest thing he'd had to a home in a while. His father's apartment had never been home. It was just another place stocked to the brim with nightmares. The same could be said for Charlie's house.

Dan sighed as he flopped down onto the hard mattress of the bed, springs squeaking quietly at the sudden added weight. Dan wondered if it was possible for one of the springs to break through the mattress and impale him. He silently thought about how he'd be glad if they did.

But he knew that realistically that the odds of that happening were slimmer than the chances of a character on "Supernatural" actually staying dead, by which the odds were already extraordinarily low.

So as his thoughts slowly took a turn for the worst and plunged his mind into a darkness that could only be created by a manifestation of depression and existentialism, Dan drifted off into slumber with the sight of twinkling stars before his eyes.
|-/\-|

Blood, flames and ashes plagued the poor boy's dreams.

Screams acted as ear muffs for the crying boy, successfully blocking out all other sounds.

There was no light that filled his nighttime sky. For Dan hadn't realised until then, that the stars that had once filled his soul had long since died.

And with each raspy breath, he had to accept that he himself, was barely alive.
|-/\-|

The morning turned out to be uneventful, as always. Dan followed his morning routine before heading off to the bar, where he greeted Brendon, did a quick survey of the supple room, and continued on his way to school.

The moment he entered the dreadful building he knew something was going on. There was an ominous yet excited buzz that filled the atmosphere of the school. Everyone completely ignored Dan that morning as he went to his locker, all too caught up in their personal cliques. Dan didn't mind it one bit, if he was being honest. It was a welcome relief from the usual chaos and pain that filled his school life. Dan sent a silent thank you to whatever it was that had entranced the rest of the student body, collected his books in peace, and made his way to his first class.

Moments after the bell rang, Dan discovered what had caught the majority of the schools's attention. Or rather, who had.

"Good morning class, this is Phil Lester, he's new to our class and I expect you all to treat him respectfully. Now dear, why don't you have a seat."

Chapter Text

The new kid, Phil Lester, took a seat a few rows in front of Dan. Immediately, all of the heads in the general vicinity of the black haired kid turned to watch him as he took his books out and plopped them on his desk. He turned to look at everyone around him, sending them all a bright smile before focussing his attention back on the teacher.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dan could see that even Charlie was looking at the new kid from his seat in the corner, and deep in his gut, Dan already knew what that look meant. Phil was to be Charlie's next prey. Oh, the poor, innocent boy.

Dan resolved to not get involved. Instead, he kept his head down and finished the work that had been assigned by the teacher, while everyone continued admiring the new boy.

|-/\-|

Throughout the day, Dan noticed a very evident lack of Charlie's presence looming over him. He also noticed that every time he had seen Charlie, the boy was practically attached to Phil, which Dan soon realised was the cause for his absence.

By the end of the day, Dan noted that he had Phil in two of his classes; first period English, and sixth period Art.

In art, Phil elected to sit at the opposite corner of Dan's table, which had three seats on each long side, matching the set up of the seven other large tables in the room. All the other kids in the class had tried to make room at their own tables for Phil to sit, and yet instead he had chosen to sit with Dan at his empty table away from everyone else. They had assigned seating in the class, mainly for the sake of organisation, so Dan knew that the table would remain empty except for him and Phil.

The whole time Dan kept his head down, his focus on the canvas that laid on the table in front of him. He was painting a light brown puppy lying down in a bird's nest on a winter night. The majority of the time he spent painting he could feel the other boy's eyes staring at him, seemingly as though he thought that if he stared long enough, he'd become some human-like version of Yoda and would be able to read the brown-haired boy's mind.

It didn't seem to be working though, as every few minutes Dan could hear Phil sighing frustratedly from across the table. In all honesty, it amused Dan a bit to see the other boy trying so hard to do something that he obviously wasn't ever going to be able to do.

When the bell finally rang for the day, Dan took his time packing away his supplies and putting back his art materials, before taking his canvas and carefully slotting it away in the highest cubby, out of the way from everyone's reach but his. He made light conversation with his teacher all the while, asking about her day and offering his sympathies for the number of unruly kids she'd had to deal with throughout the day.

When he finally left the classroom, he immediately spotted Charlie waiting on his own down the corridor next to the exit door, none of his regular friends nor Phil in sight.

Dan slowly walked down the hall, hoping not to attract the attention of the boy who was currently checking his phone. As Dan walked in right in front of Charlie, speeding up just a tad, something shot out and encased Dan's arm in a vice grip, quickly pulling him back and spinning him around.

"Hey there bud, I don't think we've talked today," Charlie spoke, his voice calm and steady, a polar opposite to the sinister smile that rested upon his face alongside his menacing eyes.

"No, I don't think we have," Dan responded, his voice shaking minutely. But he was determined. He didn't want Charlie walking all over him, not after having such a wonderful day with no bothers. "In fact, I'm sure you've been pretty busy with your new toy, haven't you? I'm surprised you're not with him right-"

A fist collided with Dan's jaw before he could finish, sending him flying straight towards the ground. Groaning, Dan attempted to sit up and hold his jaw, which he was more than sure had unhinged from its normal spot.

Charlie knelt down so that he could look into Dan's eyes. He swatted Dan's hand away from his jaw and held it in his own hand.

"Oh dear, look at what you've made do. This is what you get, Dan. This is what you get for leaving me. And after everything, everything that I have done for you!" Charlie screamed before he stood up abruptly, letting go of Dan's jaw and kicking him in the gut. Dan doubled over, gasping and crying quietly as Charlie shoved him back on the ground so that he was lying flat on his back.

"You shouldn't have left me, Dan," Charlie whispered venomously, slowly crawling on top of Dan, pinning his hands down above him. "You know how lonely I get, Danny. Why'd you leave?" Charlie bit down hard on Dan's shoulder before sucking on it. He ran his hands across Dan's body as he moved to kiss the boy under him.

Dan was squirming and crying under Charlie's touch, infinitely uncomfortable. He felt violated, just like when Charlie had pressured him into having sex the first time. He knew what Charlie could do, he knew about the twisted thoughts that ran through his ex's mind, but God help him he had no idea what Charlie's intentions were there and then.

All he knew was that he felt as though he were dying. As if that was going to be the end of him, right there, on the floor of their school hallway.

Finally, Charlie released, not going any further. The older boy stood up, brushing himself off and retrieving his stuff before walking away silently, leaving Dan feeling used and paranoid on the cold ground of the corridor.

|-/\-|

Dan left right after Charlie, gathering his stuff that had fallen everywhere before busting through the doors, taking off in a light sprint in the direction of PANIC.

He reached the small bridge that was about a half mile away from the bar when he decided to take a break, his legs aching and his sides subjected to sharp pain. He hoisted himself onto the ledge, sitting down and calming himself by relishing in the view he had from the bridge. The sun was beginning to set, casting a light orange glow over the town.

It took Dan a while to get his breath back and stop feeling dizzy, but once he did he started back on his trek towards Brendon's bar. It took him another fifteen or so minutes to get there, and once he did he made his way in through the back and, just as he always did, setting his stuff down before walking to the main door that led into the actual bar, opening it and peeking his head out, grabbing Brendon's attention and sending the older man a small wave.

Brendon didn't acknowledge him as he usually did this time. Instead, Dan got a concerned glare in return before Brendon turned around and went back to attending to the patrons.

That never meant anything good.

Chapter Text

"Dan, please. I know something's going on at school, who's hurting you?"

"It's no one. I've told you before-"

"No, you didn't. You lied to me before. Dan, please, I just want to help. It hurts me as well, you know. Seeing you come in here every day covered in bruises and cuts. Please, just please tell me the truth."

Dan sheepishly shifted his gaze from his hands to meet Brendon's eyes, which held more emotions than Dan was sure he himself was capable of feeling. He sat quietly, contemplating his options for a few minutes, before finally letting everything he'd buried deep inside of his mind out, laying his heart out on the table for the taking.

He recounted a few of his more serious encounters with Charlie and his gang, leading up to events that happened earlier in the day. He'd been doing well, keeping his voice relatively steady and forcing the tears back, no matter how persistent they were on falling, showing just how weak he was.

But when it came time to describe the events of the past few hours, Dan started choking up. His voice caught in his throat and breathing became increasingly difficult, sobs beginning to rack his chest. He had a hard time continuing his story, he'd barely gotten to the point where Charlie first punched him. He managed to get out the words, "he sexually assaulted me, Brendon," before his sobs turned to silent screams and broken words amidst the onslaught of tears and lack of air.

Brendon was by his side, arms around the shaking boy's shoulders, holding Dan close to his chest. He whispered comforting words to the young boy, before grabbing Dan's arm putting it around his own shoulders, before standing up and lifting Dan up with him.

Slowly, Brendon guided Dan to his car, setting Dan in the passenger seat before heading back around to the driver's seat and getting in, starting the engine as he did so. He turned to look in the back seat, searching for the spare blanket he kept in his car in case of emergencies. Finding it tucked away under the seat, he pulled it out and laid it carefully over Dan, who'd thankfully stopped crying as hard, with his breaths evening out as well.

"Hey, Dan, can you give me your address? I'm taking you home, alright?" Brendon questioned carefully, making sure Dan heard him correctly.

"The, um, the Blue Rose motel, about a couple miles down," Dan muttered in response, not breaking the apparent staring contest he was having with his shoes.

"Alright, let's go-"

"Wait, what about my backpack?" Dan inquired quickly. "I can't go to school without it, it has my work..."

"You really think I'm letting you go to school tomorrow? After what happened today?" Brendon started, sounding aghast at the fact that Dan would so much as even consider going to school the following day. "After what's going on right now? Forget it, Dan. What'd be the point, anyway? You're clearly not going to be mentally fit for class tomorrow, so why go if you can't even pay attention?"

Dan kept quiet after that, as he knew that Brendon had made a clear point. There'd be no point in showing up to class in his mental state. It's silly, really, how little regard most schools have in general to the mental well-being of their students. The teachers didn't care if one of their students were having an anxiety attack, they would just call on them anyway, not giving two shits as to whether or not it just made the student feel even worse, and then belittle them after they wouldn't be able to answer.

Dan sighed and turned his head to look out the window instead. After Dan had arrived at the bar, he'd had to wait another three hours until Brendon finally closed up shop to talk to the older man. In that time, the sun had completely gone down, nighttime taking place and covering the town in its dark veil. Dan eyed the quickly passing lights that were being emitted by the buildings and streetlights around them. The night brought him a peace that was incomparable to any he'd ever felt before, and being with Brendon just amplified that peace, as he knew he was safe. Something he hadn't felt for a while.

The minutes passed in silence, aside from Brendon quietly humming different tunes that sounded vaguely familiar to Dan, along with the occasional sniffle from the young brunette. They didn't words to fill the space, as everything that needed to be said had already been said, both in words and actions.

It wasn't long until they finally pulled into the parking lot of the motel and Brendon parked his car right outside Dan's room. By then, Dan had managed to calm down enough so that he was breathing normally and tears weren't falling down his cheeks anymore. He shrugged off the blanket and haphazardly folded it before tossing back onto the seat behind him, before getting out of the car.

Brendon shut the engine off and followed Dan out of the car, standing beside him as he watched the boy fumble around in his wallet for his key, before he finally pulled out a small card that he held up to the door handle, successfully unlocking it. Dan lead Brendon inside, letting the door close behind the pair.

Brendon was, to say the least, appalled by the room. The wallpaper was peeling off, showing stains the looked eerily similar to blood along with mould on the walls, the carpet was filthy, the little table in the middle of the room was caked with dirt and dust, and the couch Brendon didn't even want to touch. He couldn't begin to imagine what the bathroom was like. The only thing that looked even remotely clean was the bed, and even then the sheets had odd stains on them.

"You... Wait, I'm sorry, but you mean to tell me that you've been living here, for about a month now?" Brendon gasped, still not believing that it was possible for anyone to survive more than a night in that room. "This place is something straight out of 'Hotel Hell.' Are you hiding Gordon Ramsay under your bed or something?"

Dan chuckled a little, glad to have someone putting humour into the situation. "Well, I know it's not the best, but it's the best I can do. It's a hundred a week, which is extremely cheap if you ask me. Especially since I can't legally rent my own apartment, you know?"

Dan flopped down onto the bed, amusedly watching as Brendon stumbled around the small space, mouth agape in horror.

"Might want to lift your jaw there, Beebo. Or else one of the cockroaches might crawl inside," Dan teased, laughing as Brendon jumped and instantly shut his mouth.

After another minute or so of Dan watching the dumbfounded Breadbin, he decided to speak up. "So, um, if you want you can stay here for here the night, but judging by the look on your face I doubt you want to. There's only one bed as well, so..."

"I mean, if you want me to stay, I'll stay. We can share the bed, it's a queen size, and you're pretty small." Brendon replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "But here's the deal, tomorrow you're packing your stuff and you're coming to stay with me. There's no way I'm letting you continue to stay in this dump, alright?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden," Dan responded nervously. Truthfully, he was ecstatic that Brendon was offering him a place to stay, but he was still worried about intruding upon the older man's space. Also, was it not weird for him to suddenly move into the apartment of someone about six years older than him?

"You wouldn't be a burden at all. Hell, I'd feel like crap if I let you keep staying at this place. You're wasting money you don't have on actual shit." Brendon laughed, lifting his hand and exaggeratedly gesturing around the small confines of the room.

Dan smiled and nodded, letting Brendon know that he understood, before shifting over a bit on the bed and patting the open space next to him. "Here, you get the side with fewer stains."

Brendon snorted, a large smile playing across his features as he laid down next to Dan, both of them still fully dressed in their day clothes.

"You know, a couple years ago, after I came out to my parents they weren't so happy," Brendon murmured into the quiet air after a few minutes had passed. It was obvious he was having a reflective moment; he sounded distant, as if he was lost in his memories. "They're both Mormon. Despite my dad being an angry drunk, the house I grew up in was strictly religious. But I don't believe in the same stuff they do. So when I told them that, along with the fact that I'm bi, I was kicked to the curb with nothing but the clothes I was wearing, my wallet, with my ID and passport that'd I stuffed in there, and bruises and cuts.

"I wanted to get as far away from them as possible. So I moved here, to England. I'm from Vegas, you know? But when I first moved here, I was broke and needed a shit ton of different documentation to even begin applying for citizenship status. So I stayed in a bunch of different sketchy motels for about a year, until I was finally able to find work at a bar. Then the story comes to where we are today. I just find it so funny the way life works sometimes, cause now here you are, similar past and all. Eh, what do I know? I'm just being stupid." Brendon finished with a sigh, shuffling around next to Dan.

Dan let out a bittersweet laugh. "Our lives are really fucked, huh Breadin?"

"Very. But it's okay, because the more shit life throws at us, the better we get at getting through it, Minor."

"Why would you want to walk through shit though?"

"Oh just shut up and sleep, Howell."

"I could say the same to you, Urie."

Chapter Text

The next morning Brendon woke up earlier than Dan and took it upon himself to pack up all of the younger's stuff. It wasn't a hard task, it took less than five minutes to throw a few of the loose articles of clothing Dan had strewn on his bed back into his bag and gather up his charger and the minimal amount of bathroom supplies the young brown-haired boy owned and threw them in the bag along with the clothes.

It was barely eight in the morning, but Brendon decided that it was better to get an early start to the day, especially with all that he had planned ahead for the two of them. He sat down on the edge of the bed and shook Dan lightly, poking at his nose and cheek as the younger gradually stirred awake.

Dan didn't mind the poking and in his fatigued state of consciousness, he was determined to not let it bother his "sleep." He was already somewhat awake, but he had no intention of facing the outside world for at least another few hours. Screw the rest of the world, they weren't more important than Evan Peters, who he may or may not have been dreaming of.

But when Brendon started lightly poking at his closed eyes, Dan decided he'd had enough and knew he wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep. He swatted Brendon's hand away and sat up, rubbing his eyes as he heard the older man laughing next to him. Dan gave him a light shove, laughing a bit himself. It was nice for the mood to be light and happy for once, especially after everything else had weighed it down so much so that it felt as if it were almost impossible to be happy.

"Good morning Mr Sleepyhead, while you were snoring the day away I packed up your stuff. You ready to leave?" Brendon announced, stifling his laughter.

"Thanks, Bren. I just have to check out but yeah, I should be ready in a few minutes," Dan replied, grabbing the keycard out of his pocket and waving it around as Brendon nodded.

"Cool, you take care of that and I'll put your bags in my car. See you in a couple minutes."

|-/\-|

On their way there, they stopped at the bar quickly to grab Dan's backpack, and to make sure everything was still good with it being closed. Other than that, the ride to Brendon's place was rather uneventful, aside from Brendon blasting the radio at nearly full volume and almost destroying Dan's eardrums before Dan hit him the arm and screamed at him to turn it down, to which Brendon replied to by turning the music down by only one level.

It didn't matter though, Dan was content with leaning his head out the window to try and escape the noise. It was Brendon's fault if his neighbours filed noise complaints about blaring music at half past eight in the morning.

Brendon lived in a nice apartment building that was fairly modern, with large windows and white flooring with lots of abstract art hung around the lobby. It was definitely a million times cleaner than the motel Dan had been staying at. The elevator there was actually functional as well.

Brendon lived on the tenth floor, which was the fourth highest floor in the whole building, the top floor being comprised of two large penthouse suites. The inside of the older man's flat was spacious and relatively well kept, with the occasional object strewn about here or there.

As Brendon gave Dan the quick tour, he explained that he had three rooms: his bedroom, studio, and the guest room, which Dan would be staying in. The kitchen was connected to the living room, which had tall windows that overlooked a portion of the city. A TV was set up in front of the windows, and a black steel and glass cocktail table and grey leather sofa were placed in front of the TV set. Around the room, Dan noticed that there were several framed records hung up on the walls as decor, and an old record player occupied a corner next to the TV.

"Well, this is home. Remember, bathroom down the hall that way, help yourself to any food, and stay away from the hard liquor," Brendon concluded, gesturing around the place one last time. "Oh, and feel free to hang up your clothes in the closet. Just don't get trapped in there along with your gay, yeah?" Brendon laughed, to which Dan responded by giving the older yet another little shove.

"Thank you, Brendon. This really means a lot." Dan sighed, looking around at the pleasant place. "I hope I'm not being too much of a burden..."

"Dan, man, come on, I've told you already. I'd feel worse if I let you keep staying in that shitty motel." Brendon assured.

"I know, it's just, I don't want to bother you by staying here for too long. I mean, it's not like you're my guardian or anything. You don't have to do this. You have your own life, and I feel bad intruding like this..."

"Dan, don't worry about it okay?"

"I mean, I'm working for you, yeah, but you're still paying me even though I'm staying with you, and like, isn't that just a lot of wasted money? I don't want you to be wasting your stuff on me."

"And I'm not. You're my friend, Dan. Just think of it like we're flatmates."

"Yeah, but then I should be paying rent."

"Oh for god's sake, if it bothers you that much then how about you just stay here for now, and we'll try and find a flat for you? Your own, that you can pay rent for and everything or whatever. But just know, you're always welcome at my place, Dan. You're my friend and I trust you, otherwise, I wouldn't have offered this in the first place." Brendon proclaimed, plopping himself down on the sofa and popping open a beer he'd grabbed out of his fridge.

"Alright, that sounds good I guess. As long as it means that I won't be a burden on you." Dan responded meekly.

"You never are and never will be."

"Never say never, Beebo," Dan mumbled quietly, making his way to the guest room as Brendon looked for something to watch on Netflix.

|-/\-|

The rest of the day went by smoothly, with Brendon ordering takeaway from some random Chinese place. They ate while watching Criminal Minds on Netflix. Dan had never seen the show and had to admit that it was pretty decent.

After supper, Brendon showed Dan his studio, explaining how he used to play music on and off, and how he had played in some random bands. The studio itself was pretty small but had decent sound-proofing and a multitude of instruments, including a drum set, several guitars and bass guitars, a keyboard, and a trumpet, with a microphone in the middle of it all. He also had a desk and computer set up against the back wall, with even more records hung up around the room. It was amazing, to say the least.

Brendon showed Dan how to play the keyboard, and Dan immediately fell in love with it. They practised for a few hours before Dan decided he needed to at least attempt sleeping in order to rest up somewhat for school the next morning.

(If you have something to do this would be a good place to stop and do whatever. Sleep, if you will. If it's 3am then I'd recommend sleep )

And when the time for school came, Dan realised he was absolutely fucked, as he had no clue how to get there. He got lost for a bit before he managed to find the road that led to his school and continued down it. He made it to school three minutes before the first bell rang and ran to his English class, setting his stuff down and falling into his seat just as the bell rang. Dan looked around at the somewhat empty classroom, seeing Phil sat off to the side in his seat, mindlessly doodling away in his notebook as Charlie rambled on about whatever he was talking about.

The teacher was stood at the front shuffling through papers as the rest of the class filed in and took their seats, waiting until the second bell rang for the official start of class.

The day went by rather well until at lunch Dan got cornered by Charlie and his gang, minus Phil, while dropping his stuff off at his locker. He was putting away his books when his head was shoved forward into the space of his locker, the side of his forehead catching the corner of his locker door, splitting open the skin.

Dan groaned and attempted to steady himself on his feet, holding his hand up to his forehead as he turned around and found himself merely inches away from Charlie's face.

"Coming in for a kiss? You can't help yourself can you?" Dan remarked, immediately regretting as a fist met his eye.

"A kiss from you? I'd rather fuck the devil," Charlie sneered, an evil glare in his eyes.

"So you're saying you'd fuck yourself?" Dan replied, letting a weak smile play onto his lips as he was shoved back once again into the locker, Charlie's arm up against his throat, pushing hard enough to make him uncomfortable but not cut off his air supply.

Dan figured if he was going to get the shit beaten out of him, he'd make the best of it and fuck with Charlie a bit.

"Shut the fuck up, Whore-well," Charlie spat, before kneeing Dan in the gut and throwing another punch at the side of his face. "You know, Phil was talking to me the other day. And guess what, he was talking about you! The weird, quiet, loner in his art class! You seriously think you could befriend him? Wow, I already knew you were stupid, but this, this is just pure idiocy."

Charlie threw Dan onto the ground and climbed on top of him, throwing punch after punch at his abdomen and some at his face. Dan could feel his blood dripping down the side of his face and the bruises forming on his stomach and chest. He felt light headed and winded, barely managing to keep his eyes open. He could hear Charlie's group cheering as Charlie landed a multitude of punches on him. It went on for several minutes, Charlie stopping occasionally to shout and spit hurtful comments at him, before finally Charlie stopped hitting him and stood up, landing a kick to his side before sauntering off with his crew.

Dan laid helpless, a bleeding mess propped up against the wall of lockers. It took several minutes until Dan was finally able to regulate his breathing and push himself off the floor, properly shutting his locker before limping down the corridor and into the nearest bathroom. He washed off the blood and checked the severity of his injuries, noting that there didn't seem to be any major or serious wounds that would require medical attention.

He hid in the bathroom for the rest of his lunch period, before making his way into his art class with the hood of his sweater up and his earbuds in. He grabbed the canvas he'd been working on last time along with his painting materials before making his way to his seat in the corner, setting his stuff and getting to work as the rest of the class filled up the empty classroom.

Just as the bell was about to ring, Dan noticed movement at the corner of his table, and upon looking he saw that Phil had sat down, this time with a small canvas and painting materials of his own.

Dan remained quiet as the blue-eyed boy started sketching something out, often glancing up at Dan. The next twenty minutes were spent in silence between the two, each of them working on their own peices, before a pencil flew in front of Dan, interrupting his work. His head snapped up, looking for who threw the pencil, before seeing Phil waving his arms in front of himself trying to get Dan's attention.

Sighing, Dan lowered his head once again but pulled out his earbuds. "What is it, Phil?"

"I was wondering if you could give me some advice on my work. It looks like you're pretty good at art and I wanted your opinion." Phil answered, happiness practically oozing from his voice.

Dan looked up just smallest bit and grabbed Phil's canvas, examining the sketch that had been drawn upon it. He was immediately taken back in surprise when he saw that Phil had sketched him, Dan James Howell, working on his own art piece whilst surrounded by stars and the galaxy.

Dan looked up at Phil curiously, this time not bothering to hide his face. "Why'd you draw me?" He asked in an inquisitive manner.

"What happened to your eye?" Phil gasped, completely ignoring Dan's question. He started reaching across the table for Dan, but Dan smacked his arm away before he could touch him.

"Nothing, I accidently hit myself with my locker. Now, what made you want to draw me?" Dan inquired once again.

"You're interesting, and I love space." Phil replied simply, still staring at the massive bruise and cuts that littered Dan's face. "And I know for sure that a locker door is not capable of that. You weren't here yesterday either. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Besides, why would you care? I'm just the weirdo from your art class, as Charlie has told me you've said." Dan scoffed, gathering his stuff and getting up to put it all away.

"Wait, what? That's not-" Phil started, before the sound of the final bell cut him off.

It wouldn't have mattered anyways, as Dan was already on the other side of the room putting away his stuff.

It wasn't his usual habit to leave the class early, as he normally stayed a little later than everyone else to avoid the crowds, but at this point Dan didn't care. He just wanted to leave.

But in doing so, he missed Phil sliding his canvas sketch into Dan's supply drawer.

Ah well.

Chapter Text

Dan had expected that Phil would try to push further and get to know him, but he hadn't expected to find the sketch that Phil had shown him the day prior in his supply drawer. For a moment, Dan suspected that it had been an accident, especially when considering the fact that Phil's drawer was right next to his. But his suspicions were debunked when he looked back to his table where Phil was sat, not-so-discreetly watching Dan. The brown-haired boy chuckled to himself when he saw Phil quickly turn around when he noticed that he'd been caught.

Shifting his focus back to the sketch, Dan decided to put it back in his drawer for the time being. He'd take it out and put it in his bag after class when there was no one else around. He gathered up his materials and sauntered back to his seat.

The two-hour class went by rather uneventfully. Few words were spoken between the two boys at the back table, and most of what was spoken consisted of "can I borrow your yellow paint?"

Neither of them mentioned the sketch turning up in Dan's drawer.

At the end of the day, Dan took his sweet time packing up while the rest of the class, including Phil, rushed to leave the room. He put away his materials and grabbed the sketch out of his drawer, carefully placing it in his bag before slipping his own miniature painting of a black-haired and blue-eyed boy surrounded in yellow flower petals into the drawer right next to his.

He walked out into the empty corridor and made his way out through the door. There had been many times that Charlie had cornered him after school, especially outside one of the exits. He seemed to take pleasure in beating Dan into submission and dragging him around to the side, where Dan would often just lay there for hours until his bones stopped aching enough for him to be able to move. It was always so easy to predict was about to happen based on where Charlie cornered him. It felt as though that would never change.

Now don't get him wrong, he wasn't against change, but he never expected change to put Phil right beside Charlie. The latter's expression was filled with malice and annoyance, and what appeared to be faint jealously, while Phil's face held nervousness and excitement.

No, Dan was neither against nor scared of change, he just feared the loss of predictability.

"Hey, Howell. Phil here was just telling me about this drawing that he made for you. I wanted to make sure you got it," Charlie spat, his voice filled with complete disinterest.

Ignoring Charlie, Dan turned to Phil and replied, "Don't worry Philly, I picked it up after class. Thank you for it, by the way. It's lovely," Dan spoke calmly, smiling at the other boy.

Phil's nervousness appeared to have immediately dissipated, and his expression turned to one of pure joy. He opened his mouth to say something but was immediately cut off by Charlie.

"There ya go, Phil! He got it, no need to worry about that anymore. C'mon, let's head to my place." He quickly started dragging Phil away by the wrist making sure he had no chance to say anything.

Yes, it wasn't exactly his place to worry about Phil, but Dan knew Charlie very well and was more than aware of what he was capable of. Phil, however, was not.

And dear lord Dan hoped Phil never had to find out.

|-/\-|

"Oh my god, this looks awesome!" Brendon exclaimed, gawking at the canvas in his hands. "And you said some boy made this for you?"

"Yeah, his name's Phil. He's in my art class," Dan mumbled, taking a sip of the virgin sex on the beach cocktail Brendon had made for him.

"Damn, someone's got a crush on you, my dude." Brendon laughed, handing the canvas back to a now red-faced Dan.

"I doubt it, I've barely known the guy a couple days," Dan scoffed, putting the sketch back in his bag.

"I don't know, love can come from anywhere, at any time." Brendon winked at Dan, who responded by hitting the older man lightly in the arm. "Come on, let's hit the road, get some takeaway, and get home and watch that new episode of Supernatural."

"Oh, that sounds amazing. I want Chinese."

Chapter Text

The next day, Dan watched as Phil pulled out Dan's painting of him with a grin larger than that of Cheshire Cat's.

They made pleasant conversation about colour theory and wildflowers that class period.

Phil's constant smile throughout the hour made every punch he received from Charlie the next day worth it.

|-/\-|

In the following week, Brendon took Dan to look at a flat that they both had agreed upon. It was a cosy little place that consisted of a single bedroom with a joint bathroom, a small kitchen, and a decently sized living area. Best of all, it was a bit closer to Dan's school. It wasn't in the nicest neighbourhood, but Brendon just so happened to know the owner of the building. They had been friends since Brendon had first moved to England, and apparently the guy, Jack, still owed Brendon money that he had loaned to Jack to buy the building.

They had a deal, Brendon would forget the money if the guy cut Dan's rent in half, lowering it from £1000 to £500.

Two weeks later, after all the paperwork and contracts were signed, Dan had moved out with a hundred promises to Brendon that he'd stay safe and let the older man know right away if something was wrong.

On his first day in his new flat, Dan stocked the empty shelves with chips and cereal and canned soups, and his fridge with perishables that Brendon had insisted that he buy when they had gone shopping at Tesco. He dusted off the counters and wrapped the bed that Brendon had bought him in sheets and laid a couple layers of blankets over it.

He set his bag of clothes in the closet and made a mental note to take care of them later. Lastly, he grabbed a knife from one of the kitchen drawers and laid it on the coffee table in the living room before going over to the corner of the room near the door. He kneeled and grabbed the plain, giant long rectangular box that sat in the corner of the room and lugged it over to the small couch that sat against the wall in front of the window leading to the fire escape. He plopped down onto the couch, allowing himself to sink with the springs that groaned under the added weight.

It felt relieving to take finally sit down and take a breath and process everything that was happening.

"I'm free," Dan thought to himself as he reached out to grab the knife that sat on the table in front of him. "A place of my own, away from dad. Where Charlie can't hurt me."

He moved the box closer so that it was sat at his feet, and lowered the knife to the tape covered flaps. "And I've got Brendon. He actually cares about me."

Dan ripped the knife straight through the tape, successfully freeing the box of its restrictions. Once he got the flaps open, the contents inside the box came out fairly easily.

"Mom cared, then she died. Andrew cared, but I had to leave him behind. But I've still got Brendon."

The shiny white and black keys glimmered in the faint light that streamed in through the window.

"He's the only one left right now."

Unshed tears pooled in Dan's eyes as he took in the elegant keyboard before him, keys taunting him to weave notes and chords into songs that would fall upon deaf ears, for the waves from the streams of music would only flow aimlessly in the evening air, not a soul around to drown with Dan as he beat his own mind into submission with loud bangs on piano keys and lyrics that only seemed to fit when screamed.

He set up the keyboard and played around with it, immediately enjoying the way he could feel the music rush through him, the sense of comfort it gave him. It felt like a safety blanket, something that no one could ever take him from him.

He found himself playing a few of the songs Brendon had taught him, some were classics such as Fur Elise and some being ones that Brendon himself had written.

Dan especially enjoyed belting out the line, "What a shame the poor groom's bride is a... WHORE!" before furiously playing the notes that followed. He could barely keep in his laughter when he remembered Brendon screaming about doors when he had first taught him the song.

By 1am, Dan found himself calming down and allowing his mind to wander once again.

He imagined stars and constellations and planets surrounding flowers and thought of the colours blue and yellow and black, and soon found himself playing a soft, cheerful melody, that he covered with melancholy words.

"Rough hands will grab at me, setting my skin ablaze
Please, won't you stay away
Before the flames claim your fate.

These faces facing me, blank and empty
Soulless eyes that stare right through
And then I looked at you

And all I saw, was an ocean of blue."