I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you
But not as much as I do.
-Fall Out Boy, The Last of the Real Ones
Phil
"Well hello there, who might you guys be?"
PJ's tone is friendly and he practically glides over to us, his movements so relaxed and comfortable that he must either be completely oblivious to the unease between us and our captors or an exceptionally good actor. He has a wide, toothy smile, his eyebrows raising in a good-natured way as if he thinks we're just the latest edition to their happy group of friends.
He holds out his hand to Dan first, presumably to shake, but he's met with no response other than Dan giving him a blank look, clenching his fists tightly at his sides. His grin shifts minutely into one of more unease, not expecting such a stiff response.
"What's the matter?" He asks, voice still friendly. "Mark didn't do anything stupid before I've even gotten the chance to see you, did he?"
Mark stiffens but to my surprise doesn't retort, watching PJ warily as he meets my eyes next, gesturing to his friends.
"I knew I should have joined them when we heard all those noises." He tells me. "Instead I stayed back to roast the bird meat. Not the best decision I've ever made."
He's still met with silence, and I'm not sure how to explain to him that we're here against our will, especially with Mark hovering menacingly behind him only a few feet away. He'll hear anything we say and I'm not entirely sure if I want him to react to it. I'm still uncomfortable because he threatened us so harshly back in town, and it scares me knowing that he has complete power over mine and my friends' lives right now.
He could hurt Dan if he wanted to. Really, he could use either of my friends as a tool against me, should he turn out to be that kind of sick person. It's blatantly obvious that he doesn't like us. Or trust us, for that matter. I certainly don't trust him, and no amount of friendliness from his counterparts is going to remove that fact from our lives.
Felix shifts awkwardly next to us and PJ glances over at him, a confused expression fading the smile on his face and replacing it with the ghost of a frown. He looks in turn at each of his friends, as if demanding an explanation.
"All right guys, what's going on here? " He demands, throwing his hands out to the side in exasperation. "who are these people, and what did you do to them? They look like they want nothing more than get away from us. Did you hurt someone?"
"It's not like that, Peej," Felix breaks in, sounding nervous. "We don't wanna hurt them, we found them surrounded by zombies in the backyard of that old farmhouse, saved their sorry asses from the ones that were left and Mark thought there might be trouble, so we opted to bring them here just in case they couldn't be trusted. But they're cool, I swear, Phil and Dan met on the internet the same way Marzia and I did, it's really interesting, like-"
"So basically," PJ interrupts his tone mildly irritated now, " you've taken them prisoner,"
"ah, well... I wouldn't say 'prisoner', per se" Felix stutters.
"Depends on who you ask." Dan murmurs sarcastically, and PJ looks at him, startled.
I like Felix all right, but I'm staying silent with Dan and Cat because despite being good people, he and his girlfriend still helped in forcing us to be here. I don't plan to help him explain this at all.
Mark, who's been silently sulking out of this so far suddenly springs to attention, eyes blazing as he whips around to glare at Dan. PJ lets out a small sound of alarm as he's shoved aside, and Mark storms up to Dan, grabbing the collar of his hoodie and yanking him down so that their faces are level.
"Well, nobody asked you." he growls.
Dan glares back and I tense, wanting to punch this guy whose fist is hovering near my best friend's face.
"If you ask me," Mark mutters, "this is how I see it: a pair of gay guys and a freak zombie friend nearly kill everyone within a two mile radius by attracting an entire town's worth of zombies. Instead of taking off, they conveniently converge right where the path leads to our camp, behind the farmhouse just looking, apparently, 'for supplies.' Supplies in a picked-clean, zombie-infested town."
He glances around like he's waiting to be countered but I bite my tongue, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
"Sound familiar?" He asks. "It's you guys. Why would anyone do that? You just so happened to be in the same location as our camp, surely it wasn't because you were leading all the zombies to our area so you could they could kill us and you could take our stuff. Not like that's something you've probably done before. Oldest trick in the book, and you seem like just the type. I'm sorry friend, but I call bullshit."
Dan's face blazes red at this, I have to lower my eyes. I can't even look at anyone right now. This is ridiculous. Not only is that whole idea completely false, every aspect of it has been blown completely out of proportion and he just made a massive assumption. I don't even want to think about it, and I don't blame Dan for ignoring it completely.
Dan does however lunge forward, his hands colliding with Mark's chest and forcing him to take a few steps back, looking positively livid.
"Mark," PJ warns, "drop it."
But a fight seems inevitable, because Dan looks about as ready to drop it as Mark does.
Dan's almost a full head taller than Mark but undoubtedly smaller otherwise; Mark is solidly built, muscles rippling in his arms and in his chest, and he's standing his ground with no trace of intimidation. Dan's oversized hoodie hangs on narrow shoulders, emphasizing his teenage boy frame like another demonstration of this contrast. He's standing confident and tense, but I can't help but notice how small he looks in comparison.
"No." Dan snaps, threatening danger in every syllable. "You're wrong. We don't want anything to do with you or your fucking camp. We wanted to get home and you went and pointed a gun at Phil's head. We don't need your permission to be in an abandoned town. You don't own this place."
I've never seen him like this, it's unsettling. Now that he's gotten started there's no stopping the words that pour impulsively out of his mouth, his fingers curling tightly into fists. PJ and Felix's glances flicker to Mark, looking prepared to restrain him if Dan doesn't shut up. They know Mark in the same way I know Dan, watching his body language.
"Is that why there's no other people around here?" Dan prods. "Did you kill them too, before even bothering to find out who they are? Who's next, gonna murder your friends when you don't get your way? You must not know how to handle yourself very well."
"You know what, forget it!" Mark shouts, yanking out his gun with eyes full of hate. He pulls it back in one lightning quick motion, directing the barrel directly between Dan's eyes before I can even think. My heart drops and I gasp in fear for him, not daring to move.
"Mark!" PJ shouts, attempting to push his arm down unsuccessfully as Marzia starts speed-talking, trying to calm him down as his shoulders heave up and down with an unreasonable volume of anger that has him visibly shaking.
"Go on then, shoot me!" Dan shouts, making me panic, wanting to dive in front of him, but I can't make a move, Mark's so tense a single movement could trigger him to shoot.
Dan's gazing at the lethal weapon, one angry finger pull away from the irreversible action that would result in his death. He's still glaring defiantly but I can tell he's terrified, he's biting his lip and the stress lines in his face are back, the ones I hate to see.
"I don't have to deal with this!" Mark snaps. "Say one more thing, kid, I dare you. I don't need much more persuasion to blow your head off. One more word, anything, and you're dead."
His expression is wild, his anger obscuring his good features.
"Your friends don't need you here anyway." He snarls, tone biting. "If anything, your loud mouth and emotionless act will just kill all of you one day. Nobody wants to stick around with a guy who doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut. They're better off without you."
My heart drops just as Dan's eyes widen, expression falling as if he's just been smacked across the face. The words sit in the air as cutting and sharp as a blade, irreversible.
"There is no need for that!" PJ snaps, his voice level but also forceful. He yanks Mark's hand down with both of his, so the gun is now aimed at the dirt, glaring at his friend intently.
Mark doesn't resist, just throws a corrosive look at Dan before slapping his friend's hands off his arm and storming off, pushing Felix roughly to the side and reopening the gate, swinging it forward with one hand. He moves to reenter the woods, his gun still loaded and ready. He turns and looks over his shoulder, addressing his friend.
"Don't say I didn't warn you." he growls, "We can't trust them. They're only gonna get us killed. I can tell you that right now. Be nice to them all you want, you wait and see."
He whips around and slams the gate shut, forcibly enough that dust flies free and the hinge bangs audibly, making us wince. He doesn't even look back as he strides off, my heart pounding until he's disappeared from sight.
I breathe a sigh of relief, now that the danger is retreating. He didn't kill Dan, but he must really want to. After seeing a gun pointed that close to Dan's head, I'm just relieved he's alive.
"Mark!" PJ shouts at the gate, now slightly angry. "The sun's almost down! Do you really want to be out at night?!"
He's answered only with silence.
"Bloody idiot." PJ mutters, folding his arms and staring irritably at where Mark vanished. He turns slowly to gaze back at us, a frown creasing his face.
"He's gonna go off to clear his head and not show up back here until eight a.m. tomorrow morning." He sighs. "Just you wait, It'll be the death of him one of these days. I can't even begin to apologize for how he's treated you, I swear he's not normally like this."
I raise my eyebrows disbelievingly at him, finding the latter statement highly unlikely. I can tell we must look dubious because he turns to his friend for support.
"I'm serious!" He protests. "Felix, back me up here, Mark's alright, honestly, yeah?"
Felix laughs, clapping a hand on my back reassuringly. I don't lurch away like Dan did but I still tense at his touch given that Mark's actions have made me trust them a lot less, seeing how they all live together. Don't people who live together usually behave in a similar manner? I don't know, but I'm a little leery about them all the same.
"Nah, he's kind of a dick all the time, " Felix replies lightly. "But it's an endearing quality that comes with his personality. He has a huge heart beneath all the snapping and frowning, he's just been through a lot. More than any of our group, I think."
His tone trails off seriously as he thinks about it, apparently lost in thought.
"We probably shouldn't talk about it." Marzia suggests, voice soft. "They don't need to hear any of that after all we put them through. I'll get dinner going. Would you like to help me, Cat?"
Cat raises her eyebrows in surprise, letting the ghost of a smile creep onto her face. I feel like she was expecting to be ignored, seeing how she's been the least problematic out of the three of us.
"Sure, I guess," she answers, and Marzia grins, tentatively taking her by the arm and leading her over to the firepit where PJ abandoned the meal. They start talking quitely about something I can't hear, and I realize it's probably the first time either has conversed with another girl in a long, long time. Cat quickly starts to look increasingly relaxed as the conversation continues, and I realize what a weight off my shoulders it is seeing her so genuinely happy and comfortable.
They start to poke some vegetables that must have been laid over the coals earlier and my stomach rumbles, trying to recall the last thing I ate. It was a while ago, I know that much, and I force myself to look away, focusing on the people left.
"So," PJ starts, addressing Dan and I after the silence stretches on a bit,"We're not forcing you to stay, but it's dangerous out there when it's dark, so you should least stay the night."
We must look dubious because he points at an overhang a small distance away, raising his eyebrows.
"We've got loads of bedding you can borrow, just tuck them wherever you want to sleep and maybe check for spiders. Don't know if that bothers you but I hate them, personally." He smiles uncertainly and Dan lowers his head, averting his gaze.
I reach out my hand and gently place it on Dan's shoulder but he just shrugs it off, causing my features to flicker with hurt even though I know it's not me that's bothering him. His expression is hard, impossible to decipher.
PJ's kindness seems genuine and I find it hard to dislike him, impossible even. We've just outwardly offended Mark and refused extended hospitality and yet he's still being nice, offering food and bedding and even cracking jokes, trying to ease the tension. I don't want to get close, really, and I definitely don't want to stay after tonight, but he's trying so hard that I just can't ignore him, my 'angelic' tendency making its reappearance once again. I try to swallow my pride, extending my hand to PJ, trying my best at a smile.
"I think I might take you up on that. Thanks a lot, I appreciate it."
PJ takes my hand and the smile he gives me is kind, out of place after what just happened. I realize he's been kind to both my friends so far, tacking on another gratitude to my sentence.
"We appreciate it." I add as an afterthought, nodding to Dan who only shrugs. "I'm Phil, by the way. Phil Lester. This is my best mate, Dan Howell."
He takes my hand and shakes it, solidifying a tentative new relationship. He turns and extends his hand to Dan, who surprises me by actually looking up and taking it, shaking firmly and turning up the corner of his lips briefly. Not quite a friend yet, more of an ally, but something nonetheless.
That's good. We could use an ally.
He nods appreciatively at the mention of our names, looking me fully in the eye for the first time.
"Dan and Phil," he murmurs, tasting the words in this ordered way.
There's something nice in the way he's linked our names together, as if he sees us not as separate acts but as a functional, conjoined unit. I like being associated with Dan in this way, even if Mark's assumption is still ringing uncomfortably in the back of my mind. Phil and Dan. Dan and Phil. Somehow, it makes me like PJ even more, and I drop all pretense and let a soft laugh escape me, taking Felix and PJ pleasantly by surprise.
"It's nice to informally meet you I guess, even if we got off to a um, somewhat rough start." I blurt. "Cat sure looks happy to have Marzia to hang out with, makes me wonder if sticking around might not be such a stupid idea after all."
The words have already left my mouth and Dan looks at me like I'm nuts, but I as I repeat the words back in my head I realize that I think I really do mean them. Maybe it's the likeability of everyone who's not Mark, maybe I'm just exhausted and the smell of cooked food is irresistibly alluring. Whatever the case, I feel safe here, with all these walls and the gate. All my necessary possessions are tucked safely in the backpack on my back, going back to the barn won't even be necessary unless I want our tarp or our one cooking pot. They have bedding here, a hole-free roof to settle under and better weapons than what we've amassed. And Cat's happy. It's crazy, but I'm suddenly legitimately considering it. Felix looks relieved, lifting his brows in a pleased expression.
"One condition though," I add as an afterthought, and it's amusing how quickly their faces morph into worry, as if I'm about to order them to throw Mark to a horde or something.
"What would that be?" PJ replies good-naturedly, looking nervous.
I smile to show that I'm half joking, though my intentions are serious.
"No more guns pointed at our heads. My best mates are all I have in the world. Would appreciate keeping them safe and alive, please."
Felix shifts uncomfortably, recalling his past actions, but I'm not really mad at him. He was just afraid like us, and he actually made the effort to do the opposite every time after. Not like a certain friend I could mention. He composes himself and chuckles, gazing at me approvingly. He too reaches out his hand to shake and I take it, noticing for the first time how friendly his eyes are; clear, grey-blue and playful, like there's always a smile hiding just behind his every word. I bet he's a great friend to share a joke with, the kind that if he were a guy in your uni dorm you'd have him over to play a video game, hanging out fun and simple. He shakes with an energetic vigor, responding with a promise:
"Once and never again, buddy. From now on, let's help each other out."
I grin, pushing a stray bit of black hair out of my eyes. "Sounds good. I'd rather be on your side anyway. Seems like the other side wouldn't stand a chance, seeing as you took out that whole zombie horde and caught us off guard, too. I'll admit it, I'm impressed."
PJ laughs and Felix punches my arm affectionately, an awkwardness dissolved.
"I like you, Phil Lester." he states and then pokes Dan, who whips his head up incredulously, as if he can't believe the nerve of this guy. "And you, Danny, I like you too. I think we'll be buddies eventually. Just you wait."
Dan mutters something along the lines of "don't call me Danny" and turns away with an annoyed huff but Felix doesn't seem bothered. I grin as I imagine him determinedly trying force his niceness on Dan. It's the kind of thing Dan needs, he's not easy to get close to. I of all people know that.
"The bedding stuff's under the overhang, all in a pile. Just take what you want." PJ says, then walks off, Felix right alongside him as they go to talk to Marzia and Cat by the fire. "We've looted some good towns for it all!"
I nod even though I know he's not even looking anymore and then touch Dan's arm briefly, watching his gaze flicker up at me but not meeting my eyes. I gesture towards the lean-to roof against the rock wall, indicating where I want to go and he sighs and nods, following me as I skirt around the fire and head towards the vague form that I assume is the bedding pile.
We walk across the campsite in silence, watching the rock wall loom taller and taller as we get closer. The smell of earth washes over me as we enter the cool darkness of the sheltered overhang, squinting as we navigate around squishy premade beds that presumably belong to Felix and his friends, not able to see much in the dying daylight.
The bedding pile is mostly blankets, looking like they were salvaged from every decent home in the town. I pick a thicker down comforter as my mattress and a duvet with bright green and blue squares as the blanket, it reminds me of the one I owned back home in London. There aren't any pillows, but seeing how I haven't used one of those in nearly a year, it doesn't particularly bother me. Dan yanks up two at random, a black one and a thick quilted grey one, with so much spite you'd have thought the blankets had done him a serious wrong. That's when I realize how upset he is.
Once we exit from beneath the roof and back into the clearing, blankets in tow, he walks slowly enough that I know I'm allowed to keep up, but he won't let me fall in right beside him and he's avoiding my gaze, holding the blankets up intentionally high to block his face. I'm persistent though, plodding along just behind him until he stops below a large willow at the edge of the clearing, laying the blankets down at the base of the trunk.
I do the same, making sure to leave a good space between where my bed is placed and where his is, frowning slightly as he throws himself down with his back against the trunk, letting his head bang roughly against the bark. His face is downcast and his brows are tightly creased, and I wonder what's going on inside his head. I don't dare reach out my hand and touch him even though my entire body is aching to, but I do let a concerned question slip through, even as he goes to block me out.
"Dan, are you okay?" I ask softly, feeling uneasy about how closed off he is even though to most people this facade is perfectly normal.
He doesn't say anything at first, just shrugs.
"Dan."
He takes his time answering, leaving me hanging on purpose and making a show of slowly turning to answer me.
"I'm fine." He huffs eventually, eyes fixed on his fidgeting fingers. "I'm just fine. Fantastic actually, Thanks for checking up on me."
His tone is cold and abrupt as he turns away with finality, causing me to sigh. He's using the fine word, and I know already that this won't be easy. I let out a puff of air, not giving in that easily.
"I know you better than that, mate." I insist, still keeping a foot-wide gap between us but letting my words do the work, noticing vaguely that the sun has gone down. The stars shine above as bright and beautiful as a thousand glittering diamonds, the smell of the clean nighttime air mixed with delicious cooking food somehow giving me the energy to plod on, all the glowing flavescent hues like watchful eyes, a witness to all we do here on earth. The willow's leaves rustle gently, clearing my head as I shift my focus onto one of the most prevalent problems.
"It's not what Mark said to you, is it?" I risk, watching carefully to gauge his reaction. "You were right about everything you told him, Cat and I aren't about to let him shoot anybody, anyway. You were just standing up for yourself and for us."
He shakes his head, pressing his palms against his eyelids irritably. He slides them slowly down his face, sighing softly and taking his time answering. I'm completely baffled, feeling tense with this unpleasant mood.
I hate when he refuses to tell me things, bottling up his stress inside instead of letting others help bear the weight, it's all internalized and it stays like that until he breaks, sending it all spilling out in an angry, broken mess. I want him to tell me. Otherwise, how will I ever be able to make him better? My patience is wearing thin but I have to keep a level tone or he'll completely close me out, snapping shut like a clam.
"Well?" I demand, staring at him purposefully, then wishing I hadn't as I see how attractive he looks in the moonlight.
Sitting with his back against the tree and his head resting on his closed fist, curly hair spilling down over his forehead, he's beautiful in an unconscious way. It's hugely distracting, I force myself to focus, trying to cling to my irritation so as to get something out of him.
"What is it, then? You're not fine, so stop pretending to be." I order. "You're obviously thinking about something, so stop acting like I'm ignorant and have no idea what you-"
He whips around to stare straight at me, eyes blazing, and I stutter as I try to maintain a steady train of thought. His eyes are look so dark in the twilight, two big pools enclosed by thick lashes, and I'm forgetting how to speak, my words spilling out in a jumble.
"I don't like to see you so, uh... so... unhappy."
He frowns at me unimpressed but I don't think I imagine his expression softening minutely. I feel a little burst of relief until he starts speaking, and then I'm worried again.
"Well alright. You're right." he snaps, catching me off guard. "I'm not fine. But who cares what I'm feeling, food and blankets definitely make up for how disposable I am, right?!"
I blink, staring at him confusedly and wondering where the hell this came from.
"What?! What do you mean?" I squeak, taken aback by his harsh tone.
"Hm, I don't know, Phil. Are you actually starting to feel comfortable here? That's interesting, considering these lovely people almost shot you right through the head this morning without even offering a chance of mercy." He blurts, his words pouring out in a rush.
I gape at him, abruptly up to speed on how he's feeling. Before I can even react though, he's plodding on.
"Maybe you're fine with an apology and a shake of the hand but I'm not. It doesn't cancel out the fact that their friend is psychotic, and that at one point, they were willing to do anything to us imaginable under the pretense that we might have been plotting to kill them. You're too trusting, it's going to kill you one day."
I stare incredulously at him with wide eyes, completely stung by what he's implying. "They promised they'd keep control of Mark," I say quietly, though it's getting increasingly difficult to keep my voice level, "and Cat's so happy with another girl to talk to, I just feel safe here."
"Well I don't!" he snaps, his voice rising harshly. " I don't feel welcome here and I can see how nervous I make everybody. They all treat me like I'm some asshole that doesn't know to keep a friend, they just tolerate me because of you!"
He glares into me with such ferocity that I suddenly feel defensive, voice rising a little in defence.
"Well it doesn't hurt to be friendly with them!" I protest, feeling my cheeks get hot. "They're making up for earlier, offering us good shelter and cooked food, and besides, they're probably good allies to have, if you'd just see past your own anger! PJ's actually nice and Felix and Marzia are like you and me, the same sort of story. Do you care about any of that at all?"
"Did you even hear what Mark said?" He hisses, and I just stare coldly, waiting for him to tell me.
"He said, 'They're better off without you.' " he chokes. "Like I'm a liability. Like I-I.." his voice breaks off and I realize with a jolt that there's tears in his eyes. He swipes viciously at them, angrily, but his voice is pitching unsteadily and suddenly it's obvious that he isn't really mad at me.
"-like I'm going to cause only problems for you. You don't need me. I'm better off dead."
My jaw drops as the realization hits me. I'd been so preoccupied with worrying about whether or not Mark was going to shoot Dan, I hardly took in any of the things the guy had said. It had bounced off of me as a lot of anger-fueled yelling, I'd never even stopped to consider that Dan might take any of his words to heart.
"Holy shit, Dan..." I gasp, all anger dissolving instantly. How could he believe any of that? It was all aggression-fueled yelling. How can he not realize he means the entire world to me, that I think so highly of him? I'm speechless, completely at a loss for what to say at this revelation.
"I'm glad you're happy," he says roughly, and I'm worried by how unsteady he sounds. "Because if Mark or something else kills me, at least I'll know it's doing you and Cat a favor. It's my fault all those zombies came this morning, my fault you came this close to death. It's sad when even a stranger can figure out how pathetically useless I am. You are better off without me." The tears finally escape, sliding down his cheeks as he gives up trying to hide them from me. His narrow shoulders shake as he presses his hands to his face, but they just keep on coming, months of built-up stress finally emerging from the dark void he buries it in.
It feels strange, almost wrong; this is not the strong and steady Dan that I know. And it's worse because he isn't getting all worked up about the actions of someone else, he's angry at himself.
I give up, forgetting about my anger and forgetting about boundaries. It's dark over here, under this tree, and the long, flowy branches obscure us from sight anyway. Everyone's preoccupied with making dinner, they aren't going to bother us. It's good for him to cry, I've only seen him do it a couple times in our two years of knowing each other offline, because he's such an emotionally closed-off person. He feels weak letting people see him vulnerable, and I'm sure he hates it now. But this is something way beyond his control, and it's my job to give him something to hold on to. So I bridge the gap between us, knocking into him slightly too hard because of how clumsy I am and pulling him into me by his shoulders. He resists furiously until his head hits my chest, and then suddenly he goes limp, sniffing into the fabric of my sweater and curling into a ball, as I wrap my arms protectively around him and rest my chin on the top of his head. I squeeze him gently, feeling his soft curls brushing close to my lips.
"Don't ever believe for one second that you don't matter to me or to Cat." I whisper, feeling him shiver weakly against my chest. "You and I, we survived together, right from the very beginning. Without you, I wouldn't be alive. I wouldn't have been willing to do any of this on my own. You matter to me more than anyone else in the world, and nothing" I emphasize the last word, speaking determinedly as I glare up at the sky, angry at this world for reducing the strongest person I know to the lowest he can be, forcing him to fight for any bit of happiness when he deserves nothing but. "Will ever change that. You're a fighter, you're incredible, Dan. Don't believe anything Mark tells you for one second. He has a whole lot of anger and issues, he's just choosing an awful way to direct it."
He's quiet for a while, still sniffing occasionally and wiping tears on his sleeve, breathing harshly but not out of self-hate as much. It's all been building up, it wouldn't have taken much more to push him over the edge. I relish the warm feeling of him curled against my side, glad that I can make him feel better when things are definitely not okay. He sighs, swiping at his face again and then settling his cheek against my right shoulder, looking down at his hands.
"I know I'm gonna have nightmares tonight," he says quietly, and my heart hurts at how resigned he sounds. "I've been having them all my life, but they've been really bad recently, and they just keep getting worse." I take a deep breath, pulling him in to hug him closely again, wishing I could do more.
"Don't get so worked up right before you go to sleep." I say gently, poking his cheek with my finger and prodding a smile to reveal the dimple. "Try to relax a bit, have some dinner. Lie still for a little while before you drift off, and think of the list of things that make you happy. It's what I do, and sometimes it really helps."
He chuckles softly, not an entirely happy sound, but he is smiling into my sweater, so he must be feeling okay. "That's a pretty short list," he huffs, and I try not to correct him with some speech that he'll hate, reminding him there's lots to be grateful for. "If I had to write it out there'd only be like three things on it. There's not a lot of good out there." I roll my eyes, wishing I could blast him with optimism, but I know it won't work.
"Okay," I say irritably, shifting to a more comfortable position, "so what would those three things be? A short list is better than no list."
He hums quietly to himself for a moment, thinking about it in detail. "You know," he says suddenly, his voice slightly teasing, "it's really irritating when you poke my cheek. I didn't ask to have to have a dimple, I'd get it removed if I could so you'd stop impaling me."
"Shut up!" I exclaim, poking him again. "Just tell me what is on your list. You said three things, I want to hear three."
"Leave me alone" he moans, covering his face with both sleeved arms. "This is stupid. It's not gonna make things any better. I'm still useless."
I sigh in frustration, dropping my arms and looking up through the foliage into the sky. "I can't believe you, Dan Howell, are calling yourself useless. It's absolutely ridiculous and not at all true. I won't stand for it. Give me your goddamn happiness list, or I'm gonna poke you again."
"I hate you." He sighs weakly, his voice cracking and devoid of any venom. I slide my own sleeve up to cover my hand and I brush at the corner of his eye, wiping away the last of the tears that he allowed to fall. He's already clammed up slightly, building the wall back up. Nothing I can do about that, there's no cure for strong will. We sit in silence for a while as his breathing evens. Eventually he sits up, lifting himself up off my chest and settling back into a sitting position, and I can't quite contain my disappointment as the moment ends. Then he flops back against the tree trunk, and suddenly his head thumps onto my shoulder, trying to pretend it wasn't purposeful even though he's clearly craving the comfort. He wouldn't dare admit it though.
I still and calm, not daring to acknowledge this rarity other than to shift my shoulder slightly so he can nestle into the dip more comfortably. Eyes on the fire off in the distance where dinner is being prepared on the other end of the clearing, I don't even glance over at him as he speaks up, despite the redoubled speed at which my heart is now beating.
"I literally think I'll only be able to come up with three things. There's not a lot of that makes life worth living in an apocalypse, if you get right down to it." he whispers, and I just humph, since I don't really agree. He accepts this, and goes on talking, not really focused on the conversation anymore.
"One would have to be black clothing. I think that's like ninety percent of the joy in my life. I don't care how much the world goes to shit. I've got to keep up my aesthetic."
I laugh lightly, knowing this is definitely true. He's always been that way. People liked to comment on how opposite we were in appearance back in the day; me with my brightly coloured jumpers and blue eyes and him with his all-black ensembles and chocolate eyes. It's a part of who we were, who we probably still are.
"The second would be the stars. It sounds stupid, but it's so interesting to look up at the night sky and just... ponder. About how infinite the universe is and how insignificant we are in comparison to millions of galaxies. I don't care if it kinda gives me an existential crisis when I think about it too hard, there's always stars no matter where you go in the world. I like that."
Woah, that was deep. But it's not the first time I've heard him say stuff like that. It's like this second part of him that comes out once in a while, the one that articulates and analyzes, coming up with brilliant, in-depth thought strings that leave me speechless, wondering where they came from. I smile quietly to myself as I lean my head very lightly against his, thinking about how I'd have no problem listening to these strings more often.
"The last one..." he sighs, and shifts around for a moment, re-positioning himself to be more comfortable. ".. Well, if I had to think of one other thing that makes me happy... There isn't a lot of good things in the world, but if I had to say one other thing, I think maybe- Maybe I'd say....you."
My heart flips in my chest and I freeze, wondering if I'd just heard him correctly. He doesn't seem to realize the impact of what he's just said, and I'm just thankful it's dark because the blush that must be taking over my face is probably horrendous. I open my mouth to speak and nothing comes out, and I have to try again.
"Did you.. Did you just say m-"
"Philly! Daniel! The bird's ready, come eat!"
Cat's cheerful call interrupts me mid-sentence, and I lose all bravado, unable to ask again. I don't even care that she called me 'Philly', even though that's supposed to be Dan's nickname for me. I'm still so flustered, and I leap up, spilling Dan onto the comforters, which he doesn't appreciate. He looks up at me and my heart skips a beat, as I wait for him to say something else, something sweet that backs up what he'd just told me. Instead he grabs my wrist, helping himself up, then looks me over, and says "take off your sweater."
"Wha-?" I ask, still in a daze. What does he mean, take off my-
"Your sweater. It's all wet." He says, and I realize with a little sink of my heart that he wants me to pull off the sweater I have on over my T-shirt, as it's soaked through with tears. He doesn't want anyone to know what just happened, and fair enough. I do it, wanting to spare him as much awkwardness as possible. His eyes are still a little red but in the dark without knowing it's there, it's not likely anyone will notice. It's between me and him.
By the time we make it over to the fire, almost all traces of his short breakdown are all but gone. He accepts a hand-cut wooden plate of food, saying thank you to Cat and Marzia for making it and settling onto the ground a few inches away from me, as we all prepare to eat.
My heart is still beating far too fast for my liking out of disbelief of what had just happened. I mean, Dan had been incredibly emotional when he'd said it, and it's not like he's declared his undying love for me or anything. But it's always been me who's been the giver in this friendship, the one who initiates hugs and goes in for the compliment when it's well-deserved, the one who isn't afraid to cry when everything is just too much. It feels almost like a role-reversal, to hear him express his appreciation for me in such a raw and unplanned way. It makes me feel important, that I'm the one person he can truly trust.
The meal looks amazing by apocalypse standards; a heaping plate of roast bird and fried potatoes with a side of hand-gathered berries. After so long living off of cold canned food and expired crisps, I can hardly contain myself at something fresh and hot. I'm about to take a huge bite when Marzia stands up, having served everyone.
"So guys," She announces, scanning our semicircle to meet each of our eyes, " I was supposed to take watch with Mark tonight, but he's gone, clearly, so I'm on my own tonight. I'm going up now with dinner, anybody wanna do the watch with me so I'm not lonely?"
I expect Felix to jump up, seeing how hours alone with his girlfriend should have been a great incentive to get him up there. But he just sits back, stuffing potatoes in his mouth and saying thickly how he plans on sleeping tonight, for once. She sticks out her tongue, saying "thanks so much, Felix," with a jab of sarcasm. PJ doesn't look too eager either, muttering how he took it alone yesterday, staying sitting with his friend. I have to admit I'm not exactly eager to sit that long alone with her, even if it is as nice of a person as Marzia. So even though I feel a little guilty, I don't stand up.
But the one who does stand up, catching me completely off guard, is Dan.
"I'll go with you, Marzia. I-if that's okay. I don't sleep well at night anyway. It's just at the top of the ladder, right?" he asks so quiet and tentatively, looking like he's second-guessing himself the moment all eyes turn to him.
I frown a little nervously, anticipating an uneasy reaction from Marzia after all the coldness earlier. He's trying to mend things, I realize, seeing him smile awkwardly as he waits nervously for her to shun him. But her face breaks into a wide, beautiful smile as her eyes light up, catching him by surprise. "Of course! Thanks, Dan!" she chirps happily, giving him a gentle side hug and jogging over to the ladder, and I watch as he follows warily behind. He'd already bonded with Marzia earlier today, speaking to her about meeting me before he'd even been willing to answer Felix. Maybe she'll be the comfort he needs to ease into this environment, maybe this is the push he needs to be happy here.
I try not to feel too sad watching him climb the ladder, knowing I'll be alone under the willow until the watches switch at midnight, six hours from now. It's not like he's leaving me forever, I can survive a few hours by myself. I'll be asleep anyway. Even if he was there it's not like we'd really be acknowledging each other. I tell myself this as I shovel hot potato slices into my mouth, hearing him say one thing over and over in my head:
"if I had to think of one other thing that makes me happy... There isn't a lot of good things in the world, but if I had to say one other thing, I think maybe- Maybe I'd say....you."