Dan took a deep breath, downing the pills the moment he and Phil got home.
"Dan? Are you okay?" Phil was knocking gently at Dan's bedroom door.
"Give me a little bit," Dan called out. His voice was uneven, and he seemed out of it.
"Okay. I'll order pizza, okay?" Dan sniffed, wiping his teary eyes. He didn't even realize he had gone two days free of his antidepressants.
Fuck, why was he so stupid?
He looked at the pills, shaking his head. He wanted them now, but he knew he should wait for tomorrow.
He suddenly ran, landing in front if the toilet. He puked, both hands on either side of the lid. It continued to come up.
But when it was done, Dan had tears streaming down his cheeks, and a sore throat.
"Dan?" Phil called out again. Dan stumbled out of his bathroom, and peered out his locked door, cracking it only slightly. "Come out. Being in there all alone isn't healthy. Come out here and not be lonely."
"I'm sick," Dan told him. "I just puked."
"Okay. Come out here and we'll get you a bowl. We can lay on the couch and be all comfy and pig out on pizza if your stomach can handle it. And we'll watch stupid movies and laugh our asses off." Phil was smiling, seemingly proud of his little idea.
Dan, on the other hand, felt his stomach argue. And, without hesitation, he darted. He again, was over the toilet.
This time, a hand was soothingly rubbing his back.
When he was done, he leaned against Phil. His tears streamed down his cheeks again before he stood up. He washed up, and groaned.
"That's it. You're going on the couch. You're not staying in here all alone," Phil decided, grabbing Dan's wrists and tugging him to the hallway.
Dan didn't argue as Phil led him. Yes, he knew he should probably stay in bed, but he wanted so badly to be next to Phil.
So, they laid on the couch. Well, Phil laid with his head resting on the armrest, and Dan fell asleep cuddling into his side.
Phil had no complaints.