Identity (Phan)

Chapter 18

The hallways smelled of rubbing alcohol and floor cleaner, and it burned Dan's nose when he breathed so he tried to take shallow breaths as to not inhale the poisoned air. It was to no avail of course; he needed to breathe to live, but he could at least try not to. 

All around him, there were five other teenagers from ages fourteen to nineteen sat in a half circle. Most of them were quiet, listening to the woman speaking in the front who occasionally drew on the white board with various colours. Dan couldn't listen to her no matter how hard he tried. In fact, he couldn't hear anything at all besides the laughing voices that seemed to be screaming in his mind. But when he looked around, no one's lips were moving besides the woman, deemed as the current group leader sent to teach them about 'coping skills' for their 'depression', Not like Dan actually has a problem with that anyways.

You're going to be stuck in here forever.
Phil will never come back to see you.
He doesn't want to hang around an insane person like you.

Laughter overtook his brain and he wanted to scream. Instead, he just pressed his palms against his ears to block out the taunts, but it didn't help and he could still hear every fucking word that tore him down from the inside out. "Phil would never leave me," he whispered, digging his nails into his scalp and beginning to tear at his hair. He felt no pain. "He promised. He promised."

"-iel? Daniel? Are you alright?" 

There was a soft touch on his arm and he yanked away from it, ripping his hands away  from his ears to stare at the group leader, who was staring down at him with concerned brown eyes. His eyes flickered around the room, noting the amounts of stares that were suffocating him from the other inpatients. 

Freak.

"I'm fine," he whispered, staring down at his hands. Lies, all lies, but he had to get out of here. Dan couldn't last here for much longer.

The woman, Brittany, nodded and glanced over to the half-open door, which Dan just noticed had a man perched halfway in it, looking at him through half lidded eyes. "The hospital psychiatrist, Doctor Fletcher, would like to speak with you. You may come back to group after you're done."

Dan nodded, standing up and keeping his head down. He wanted out of here, he wanted Phil, God, he needed Phil.

Soon enough, the brunette was sat in front of a rather elderly man with a shock of white hair and blue eyes that had thick white eyebrows furrowed into them. His gaze nearly glared through Dan, completely unwelcoming and seemingly unforgiving, which made absolutely no sense. What was his problem? "So why are you here, Dan?"

"I don't know," Dan muttered.

"It says here that you tried to kill yourself, is that correct?"

Dan cleared his throat and adjusted himself in the plush chair, trying to get as comfortable as he possibly could with the doctor staring at him like that. "That's what I've been told. I don't remember it, though."

He nodded and wrote something down on a little notepad, making Dan sweat. What is there to even write down? Didn't he know all the details anyways? "And yet you don't have any amnesia, yet you're saying you don't remember?"

"It's because I don't, sir."

Doctor Fletcher's eyes narrowed into little slits. Dan felt anger burst through him like he was suddenly set on fire and there was a screaming in the back of his head because the man obviously didn't believe the truth. What a shitty excuse for a doctor. "Lying about your condition won't help you here, Mr. Howell. If you want help, then I suggest you stop being so selfish and do things for others for a change."

Red tinted Dan's vision, making it hard to see anything through the haze. His breathing increased and his fists squeezed tightly by his sides. "I'm not lying and I suggest you shut the hell up, sir. You obviously don't know what you're talking about if you're accusing a patient of lying"

"I've seen plenty of patients in my day and seemingly all of them-." 

Dan couldn't hear a word anymore. He could see Dr. Fletcher's mouth moving, but he couldn't formulate the words coming out of them, couldn't hear the syllables that spat through the air. The haze had become so thick that Dan was blind from it, the only sound being a dull static of the tension that he felt. And then a voice, a voice that wasn't his, but that was somehow forming his lips into sounds, words, that cut off the old man with venom-dripping syllables.

"Shut the fuck up, old man. With an attitude like that, it's no wonder you never get laid. Even the look of you makes me sick to my stomach."

* * * 

Dan's head was pounding and his eyes burned beneath his eyelids. He let out a breathy whimper and tried to sit up, feeling like he was laying on glass, but his attempt came to a jerking stop when a yanking on his arms restricted him. "What the..."

His eyes flew open to a white ceiling. Slowly, he turned his head, eyes widening when he saw leather straps holding his wrists and legs in place. Panic rose in his throat and he couldn't breathe anymore, could barely even get out any words. But suddenly he was screaming, screaming so loud that he couldn't hear his thoughts and there were tears running down his face and all he wanted was to be back at his own flat, laying in bed with Phil because Phil would know how to handle this. 

His lips were forming their own words, completely disconnected from his brain, calling for Phil and screaming for help and then there were three nurses running into the all-white room, crowding around him, and the only thing Dan could see was Dr. Fletcher, leading a young man into the room who had a black fringe and worried blue eyes that were so wide it looked as if they would fall out of his head. 

"Get me out of here!" Dan screeched, trying to grab at Phil, because it was Phil, his Phil. 

The doctor was saying something to Phil in a hushed tone, words that made no sense to Dan in his state, and Phil was responding in an equally quiet tone before rushing over to Dan's side, reaching out a hand to brush the hair out of Dan's face. "Shhh, Dan, it's alright. I'm here."

"Phil," Dan whimpered. He wanted to collapse into the boy, to hold him until the aching in his heart went away. But he couldn't because there were restraints on him and he didn't understand why. "Why am I strapped down? I'm scared."

There was a jangling on his left side and then his arm was free, followed by a leg. Then there were no more restraints and he flung himself into the older man, sobbing freely and not caring who saw. The only thing he truly cared about was that Phil was here and he wasn't alone anymore. For now, at least. "You're going to be alright, Dan. The doctors and nurses here just want to help you. Nobody is going to hurt you."

"Doctor Fletcher called me a liar earlier."

Phil leaned back and cupped Dan's cheek, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "That was just to see how you would react. He needs to see all of you to be able to diagnose you with a disorder."

Dan blinked and bit his lip, confused. "But there's nothing wrong with me."

Phil smiled at him, a sad smile that didn't really reach his lips. Then he leaned forward and warm lips pressed against Dan's, and Dan wanted nothing more than to just melt into him. "We'll cross that road when we come to it."

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A/N: OMFG THIS IS SO SHITTY IM SORRY ITS JUST CHRISTMAS EVE EVE AND IM WATCHING MY DAD PLAY SKYRIM AND IM SRY IM JUST HAVING BAD WRITERS BLOCK PLEASE FORGIVE ME. Anyways have a good christmas! I love you all