wanted (phan) || book #3

one

TRAILER FOR WANTED ABOVE

THIRD AND LAST BOOK IN THE STAINED SERIES

D A N ' S P O V

"Dan, what about you?"

I looked up at the man in the seat. Patrick. I was glad to see he still worked here. The building was different- I know it's because it's rebuilt, but I no longer felt safe. Not since they burned the original support group down. "I, um. . ." I trailed off. "I watched something bad happen to my friends and family and. . . And I can't stop thinking about it. I feel like- like it's slowly possessing me limb by limb until finally I'll snap- and I'm so terrified of losing it again."

Patrick looked up from his journal. "What do you mean by again?"

"I've lost myself before; it wasn't pretty. I was mean to the only people who cared about me, including my lover, and I was mean to myself. I yelled, I ignored, I insulted. . . I wasn't my real self and I just want to stay okay."

"And who's gonna keep you that way?"

I looked up at him. "His name's Phil. Phil Lester."

✗

I shot up from the pillow beneath my head, feeling the sweat trickle down my shoulders and tears dry on my cheeks. Frantically, I looked around, exhaling when I noticed Phil was asleep next to me.

Nightmares weren't new anymore. I was starting to grow a sleeping problem- it's not that I couldn't sleep, it's that I didn't want to. As soon as I shut my eyes all I saw was darkness, physically and mentally. As long as my eyes are open I can still see him. I can still see that my boyfriend is alive next to me.

Phil, snoring next to me, turned over and sleepily pawed at my hand. I looked down at him to see he was only doing this in his sleep. I grinned to myself, leaning to press a kiss on the top of his head.

"Be right back," I whispered. Sliding out of his grasp, I opened the bedroom door and tiptoed out and down the stairs.

I trudged to the kitchen and began making myself a glass of water, the moonlight creating a soft, silver silhouette through the windows.

Suddenly I heard footsteps and fell silent, my eyes widening. I searched for a weapon and found a kitchen knife, snatching it and holding it in front of me with trembling hands.

I held my breath as the footsteps got louder, raising the object higher.

Then the lights turned on, revealing my exhausted father in a t-shirt and underwear. He furrowed his eyebrows at me and I exhaled, setting the knife down.

"What are you doing awake? It's four am. Jeez, I wouldn't have let you guys live with me again if it meant you'd stab me," he chuckled.

"Nightmare," I replied. "You scared me to death."

"The only thing that's dying here would've been me if I hadn't turned on the lights," dad joked. I giggled halfheartedly. "What'd you dream about this time?"

"Same thing."

For weeks now, I had been having similar nightmares. All had the same concept: I'm in a dark room, crying for some unknown reason. Suddenly, someone I love appears and notices my tears, beginning to walk to me to come hug me. I reach my arms out, but as soon as we touch, they turn into someone I hate- whether that's Wirrow, Parker, Ross, etc., then they kill me.

Other times it's the other way around- the person who's trying to help me ends up dying in front of me before they can help me.

I picked up my cup of water and nodded towards dad. "What are you doing awake?"

"Nightmare," dad replied. I raised an eyebrow.

"Mum again?" Dad nodded once, avoiding my gaze. "Okay, well, Phil might wake up and freak out that I'm not there, so I should probably go back to bed. Same goes to you."

Dad forced a small smile my way. "Right. Goodnight, Dan."

"Night."

He then turned off the lights and I hurried back upstairs to see, as I guessed, Phil sitting up with watery eyes. His hands were holding the sheets close to him, his hair messy from the bed and white t-shirt wrinkled.

As soon as he saw me he jumped out of bed, throwing himself at me. "I thought something h-happened,"

"Nothing happened, baby. I'm okay. I just went to get water."

"Did you have another nightmare?" Phil questioned, pulling away. I sighed, and that was an answer enough. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"We both haven't been getting enough sleep- I figured you deserved it. Besides, I'm okay," I told him. He nodded but still looked uneasy. "Hey, look at me."

Phil and I locked eyes and I pressed my mouth to his, softly kissing him. Phil instantly reacted, setting his hands on my shoulders. I pulled away to pet his hair. "Please don't leave me," Phil whispered, his voice small and shaky.

"Wouldn't dream of it," I reassured him, setting my water down and climbing back into bed with my boyfriend. I wrapped my arms around Phil but furrowed my eyebrows. "I can feel you shaking, seriously, what's up?"

"Nothing."

I flicked him in the back of the head and he groaned, turning on his side to face me. "You're lying. What did I say about lying?"

"That lying only makes everything worse," he mumbled. I giggled at his grumpiness, taking him in my arms and feeling him nudge his head into my bare chest. "Did you have a bad dream too?"

"Maybe," Phil replied, his voice muffled.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay," I responded, kissing the top of his head. "Wanna go back to sleep?"

"Yes."

I laughed. "Okay. Well you know we're okay right? They're all dead- it's fine. Your parents are alive, my dad is alive, we're back in support group and we've even got private sessions with Patrick. Nobody's gonna hurt you, I won't let them."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

But the thing I should've thought of was that you shouldn't make promises you can't keep.