Phan Imagines/Oneshots

Tee Shirt

NOTE: T/W mentions of suicide (self harm also ??)

This is based on Tee Shirt - Birdy so you should probably check it out if you haven't already heard it.

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In the morning, when you wake up,
I like to believe you are thinking of me.

It was 3pm when Dan woke, dragging himself out of bed, not caring how late it was. What was even the point anymore? Since Phil was gone, nothing mattered anymore. It was as if he was just numb; he didn't even feel much anymore. He used to cry his eyes out every morning and every night thinking of Phil but now he wasn't even capable of that. He was so drained, mentally and emotionally.

And when the sun comes, through your window,
I'd like to believe you've been dreaming of me.

When Dan had arrived at the living room, he slumped down on the sofa and thought about last night. He vaguely remembered a dream he'd had, and when he thought of it, he instantly became a bit happier. The contents of the dream had come rushing back to him and for a moment, he got lost in it.

It was from back in 2009, when he and Phil had just started their relationship. It had been the day they went out and played in the snow. Then they had lay in the snow together, side by side. Of course, he couldn't forget how Phil had turned to him and kissed him, cupping his face in his hands; it had been their first kiss. The whole memory had played so clearly in his dream, he had relived it.

I know, cause I'd spend half this morning,
Thinking about the t - shirt you sleep in.

After a few moments of sitting in silence, Dan made his way to Phil's room, entering and just taking in everything. He slowly sat on Phil's bed and just lay down, finding it comforting that this was where Phil had spent most of his time. He found comfort in the lingering scent of Phil that should have long since vanished, but managed to stay quite distinct, fortunately.

Dan went over to Phil's drawers and pulled out one of his t-shirts; it's not like he was going to be using them anymore. He slid it on over his head and just embraced the whole feeling of wearing Phil's shirt; it was the closest thing he had to him anymore.

I should know, cause I'd spend all the whole day,
Listening to your message I'm keeping, and never deleting.

How long had it been since Dan used his phone? The last time he'd even touched it was when he heard Phil's voicemail. Little did he know at the time that it would be the last time he heard Phil's voice.

The voicemail had been short and something had seemed off, but Dan hadn't realised until he'd gotten home.

It had been as followed:
*beep*
Hey Dan, um, I was trying to uh... Call you but... You weren't answering and so I just wanna tell you... I love you and... I'm sorry never mind just... I... I'll see you at home...
*beep*

All through the voicemail, as Phil paused, it almost sounded as though Phil had been crying as he spoke. Yet Dan hadn't realised it.

When he got home it all made sense. He had went to Phil's room and he saw Phil hanging from the ceiling, the rope wrapped tightly around his neck. The colour had drained from Phil's face and the boy Dan once knew and fell in love with, bright blue eyes, beautiful pale skin, full of life... Was hanging in front of him, lifeless.

Dan had broken and ever since then still felt broken. His other piece missing.

But now Dan knew what he had to do.

But no one else heard,
The weight of your words,
Or felt the effect that they have on my mind.

He looked down at his wrists, saw the scars that covered most of his arm and laughed to himself.
'I knew this was leading somewhere' he thought to himself.

Without hesitation, Dan headed over to Phil's room, deciding it was the final place he wanted to be before he left his life on Earth and moved on.

Then, he headed to Phil's wardrobe and grabbed the rope from the bottom of it. It had been that rope that had ended Phil's life and so it would be the one that ended his.

Dan wasn't going to write anything to leave behind, it wasn't like there was anyone left to care enough to want to know what happened.

He tied the rope and the placed it around his neck, on the count of three he would kick the chair and it would all be over. Finally free from this suffering he had to endure since Phil's "incident".
One... Two... Three... He kicked the chair...

Falling...

'I'm coming for you, Phil'

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A/N: I'm sorry. That's all. This was really sad and this is my first songfic so I do apologise for it being quite terrible.