*I'm sorry if this isn't that good, I haven't written in a while haha, sorry for that. Also, massive ass trigger warning, this entire chapter is going to be full of EXTREMELY triggering things so I suggest being careful reading x ily and thank you for reading as always!*
Dan's eyes flutter open, the dim morning light shining through the window onto the bedsheets. He buries his head tighter into Phil's bare chest, his heart throbbing as if someone was repetitively punching it.
"I love you" He murmurs into Phil's warm figure, sadness lacing his words. He gently shifts away so that he can climb out of bed, stretching his arms out slightly and wincing.
He glances sideways at the alarm clock, the time '5:30' blinking in neon red. He closes his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath and letting the moment pass before opening his eyes again. Everything was calm, and he hated it.
He hated that despite the ongoing storm violently tearing at his mind, everything around him stayed the same. The sun still rose even when he was sinking, and it didn't seem fair. It didn't seem fair that although we slave, suffer and hurt the world still doesn't see us worthy enough to stop for. Not even for a second. We could drop off the face of the Earth and still that goddamn sun would keep rising. Not a second of condolence, not an ounce of grief. Our insignificance is really what keeps the world turning, and it's such a disgusting yet such a beautiful analogy.
Dan lets the smoke drift from his lips, his lips blue with the biting cold air. His mind turns silent slowly, the noise of his thoughts drowning out into a dark blur. He remembers the first time he was in this situation, how he relied on the cigarettes to keep him sane. He remembers the silent house as Phil burst through the doors, running upstairs and finding Dan huddled into a ball, crying. He feels like he's grown so much, it almost scares him how much one person has changed his life. However, despite his life taking a complete turn, despite the pain and the mistakes and the hurt...
He still doesn't want to die.
Dan starts to break down into tears, his chest giving way and letting out sobs as tears soak his face. He's so done, so fucking done and it hurts so bad. His heart aches and his mind can't take it anymore, but he doesn't want to leave. He doesn't want to never kiss Phil again, he doesn't want to never eat popcorn again, he doesn't want to never breathe in fresh air and he doesn't want everything to go away. It makes him so, so angry. He can see everything around him, everything that gives him a small ounce of joy and everything that's kept him on the planet. But there's always a cloud. There's always a thick mist of fog suffocating him, a dark liquid drowning everything out and turning everything dark. The sun no longer shines powerful beams of light, it just slowly burns out in the sky, reminding him that everything is really just going to fade away in the end anyway. The small amount of happiness he still feels doesn't seem pure anymore, it just seems wrong, as if he's being lied to. Because, in the end, he always ends up back here. And, somehow, it gets a little more painful every time.
He curls up into a ball, the cigarette falling out of his grip and out of the window as his hand goes limp. He lets his tears soak his knees, and he's brought back to that day. The day when he was small and vulnerable, when he had nobody. He's become so, so much stronger, but somehow sitting here he feels so fragile that he could shatter.
He just wants it all to go away.
And, soon, it will.
His breathing gradually slows to a shaky whisper, and he looks up from over his knees, his eyes emptily staring at the plain wall. His eyes trace over the slight cracks in the off-white paint, how small shards of it have somehow given way and fallen to the carpet in a small pile. Examining the carpet somehow seems like a good attempt at calming down, and he eventually finds himself counting each and every strand absentmindedly. A large amount of time passes before he decides he can't put things off any longer, and he stands up, shaking his head rid of any leftover emotion. After all, emotion is a distraction and distraction reduces focus. The importance of the situation still hangs heavy, and even though Dan knows he won't be here for the aftermath he knows that Phil will. He needs everything to be in order, to be easy. And he needs to not think. Because maybe, if he thinks, he'll end up convincing himself that things aren't as bad as they are. And maybe, if he does that, he'll end up hurting everyone even more. Giving everyone a little more hope, only to shatter it in the end. Hope is toxic, and he doesn't want anyone to be poisoned any longer.
Especially not himself.
He grabs the keys off of the kitchen shelf, scribbling a note to Phil and walking silently out the front door. He doesn't bother wearing a coat although rain is pelting down, instead he welcomes the feeling of the cool liquid soaking his skin. His arms are showing, and although every vein and nerve in his body is screaming at him to care, he doesn't anymore. He continues to walk. He ignores his reflection in puddles forming on the concrete, continuing to the store. His hair sticks to his forehead in an uncomfortable manner and his arms sting from the salt of the rain but he doesn't care. He doesn't feel. He just continues walking down that road, the rain soaking through his shirt and turning it see-through.
"Excuse me" He hears, grabbing his senses and causing him to spin around. "Would you like an umbrella? It's raining quite a lot"
Dan's brown eyes lock with the bright green ones in front of him, instantly causing them to fill with shock.
"Daniel?!" His mother gasps, stepping back a few steps as if someone had slapped her.
Dan closes his eyes, his body still refusing to let anything out. Although his mother had hurt him, taunted him and ruined his life, he still was vast of emotion while staring at her, her mouth parted slightly in disbelief and concern and her hand still extended with the umbrella.
"I don't want to speak to you" He says, immediately turning away and walking before a frail hand grabs his shoulder.
"I know you don't, but-" She stalls, her eyes darting in all directions as if she's trying to figure out what to say. "I can't let you stay out here like this, it's awful. You look sick, Daniel!"
Dan scoffs, turning again to leave. Yet again, her hand pulls him back.
"Honestly just fuck off" He says, brushing off her hand. "You treat me like shit for years and then expect me to stand here and talk to you? No thanks, I have things to do"
"Daniel, I-"
"No! Don't. Don't even bother. I know you don't care, if you did you would've shown it all those years ago instead of throwing me to the side like garbage. You were supposed to be my mother, you did a terrible job. Now just let me go, okay?" He snaps.
"Please" She says, quietly. "Just take the umbrella"
"I'm fine-"
"But!-"
"I don't want it"
He turns away, the wind attacking his face as he briskly walks. He knows what he wants, entering the store without a second thought and not thinking once about turning back. After reading a few directions, he swerves into the third isle, striding towards the middle. He stops, letting his eyes look over different options. Eventually, he decides, pulling a pack of blades off of the rack and continuing down the aisle to the counter. His eyes rake the shelves as he moves, his mind racing with strategies and possible plans. He shakes his head, pulling three packs of pills off of the first medication shelf he passes, figuring that it'll finish things off if nothing else works. When he reaches the counter, he slaps the items on the desk, watching as the cashier raises an eyebrow discreetly but says nothing. He then packs them into a bag, and leaves.
When he arrives home the alarm clock blinks '7:00'. He hurriedly hides the items he's bought under the mattress in the spare room and waits for Phil to gradually awake from his alarm clock. He has work, so Dan knows he can be alone all day. That way he can have time to think things through before completing his task. Phil eventually wakes up, slamming on his alarm clock and greeting Dan with his usual smile before getting dressed. Dan watches him intently, taking in every moment and every picture of his face. He knows they don't have long left together, and he wants to savour every second. He watches as Phil pulls off his shirt, the light from the window dancing off his pale figure and contrasting against his dark hair. Phil continues to change his trousers, revealing the small patterns of lines that Dan had never noticed before. He sees the familiar look of pain in Phil's eyes as he's reminded of them again, but the look passes quickly when he puts on his new pair of trousers. Sighing, he turns to Dan.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay alone?" He says, his hand resting on Dan's arm.
"I'll be alright" Dan replies, leaning into Phil's touch and taking a shaky breath. He could almost feel the countdown in the atmosphere, ticking away.
"Sure?"
"Sure."
Phil takes a minute to gather his things as usual, flinging a small backpack over his shoulder. He makes his way towards Dan, his eyes flickering to the alarm clock.
"I'm late, I better get going" He says softly, his arms snaking around Dan's waist. "I love you"
"I love you more" Dan says, and at that moment he feels a single tear leak from his eye.
He rushes to hide it, trying hard not to let his breath hitch. He can't let himself get distracted, not now.
Phil places a kiss on Dan's forehead, turning towards the bedroom door.
"Wait!-" Dan shouts, causing Phil to turn back.
"Yeah?"
Even though he knows it's going to hurt, Dan takes a few steps forward, pulling Phil's face towards his and kissing him gently. Phil kisses back, his arms wrapping around Dan and making him somehow feel safe. Another tear begins to form in Dan's eyes and he pulls back, letting Phil loosen his grip.
"Bye" Dan says, taking a step back to let Phil go.
"Bye Dan" Phil says, smiling.
Dan curls his lips upwards, faking a smile for the last time as he watches Phil leave the room, grab something from the counter, and leave the house.
And then he breaks down into tears.
~~~
Phil sits down at his desk at work, quickly unpacking his things so that he can get ready to take calls. He knows how urgent his job is, so he tries to be a quick as possible in the preparation. He opens his backpack, taking out a water bottle and placing it on the desk as well as a piece of paper addressed to him. He'd seen it on the kitchen counter this morning and assumed that Dan had written something for him, so decided to pack it and read it when he wasn't in as much of a rush. He sits down, unfolding the letter quickly and skim reading it.
'Phil,
I've just gone to the shops, so don't panic if you wake up and I'm not here! It's all good.
~Dan'
He raises an eyebrow; why on Earth would Dan need to go to the shops before seven in the morning? It seems very odd, but he lets it slide, deciding that it's probably just one of Dan's impulsive decisions. But what would he even need to buy before seven? Phil shakes his head, trying to get rid of all the possibilities eating away at his mind. He knows that he's probably being dramatic, and he has phone calls to answer. He tucks the letter away in the pocket of his jacket, picking up the phone and beginning to take calls.
~~
Dan sits on the living room sofa, his head in his hands. His face is damp from sobbing, and his mind is yet again racing. Now that he's alone, he has the freedom to do anything. It's time to put his plan to action. However, although he's planned this moment for years on end, he's still not quite sure how to do it. Should he write a note? Record a video? Nothing? Even though he's certain this is the right thing to do, he still feels as if there are things he has to say, things that have gone undone. He doesn't feel READY. But, still, he's certain. He makes his way to the spare room, pulling open a drawer and taking some paper from it and a pen. He slowly sits at the desk, and places the paper on the table. He stares at the paper blankly, thousands of words rushing through his head but none of them coming together. Nothing he can say can make up for what he's about to do, but maybe he can at least explain it. For a while he sits in silence, thinking and writing, listening to the birds chirping outside the window. The only sound is the quiet sound of pen meeting paper as Dan wrote, the odd tear falling from his face and wetting the paper.
An hour passed until Dan sat back, reading over the letter with shaking hands and a tearstained face.
'Phil,
I know there's no amount of words that can make up for what I've done. I've hurt you, and I know that right now you're probably reading this with tears staining the page. Quite frankly, so am I.
But this, this isn't what I want Phil. I don't want you to be upset. Please, please don't be upset. I'm not worth that. I never was. A life like yours is so much more important than one like mine, so it'd only seem fair for yours to continue when mine has come to an end. After all, I was insignificant in a world like this. I didn't change anything, I only brought havoc to myself and others. That's not something to grieve, Phil.
But, you see, you aren't like that Phil. Most of us are insignificant, have no impact on the world. We're fish in a sea, we can come and go and still nothing would change for the better or worse. But you- you're different. You see, Phil, we could drop off the face of the Earth and still that goddamn sun would keep rising, but not for you, because you- you're the sun.
If somebody asked me about Phil Lester, I'd start off by saying that he's selfless. He never cares about himself. The only thing that matters to him is that everyone else is happy. And that's so, so beautiful. You showed me that people do care, that maybe I am worth a small portion of something. You made me feel love, and you made me feel wanted.
I'd tell them that Phil Lester is brave, that he literally works a job saving people's lives when he could be working on his own. I'd tell them that he took me in even when he didn't know me, that he knew I could hurt him yet he was still brave enough to let me in. I'd tell them, as cringey as it sounds, that you showed me courage. Because I was always scared, always scared to speak, always scared to move in fear that I could get hurt. But you? You aren't like that. You showed me that I didn't have to be scared.
I'd tell them that Phil Lester is strong, that although he suffers with anxiety he powers on every single day, fighting it and not letting it get in the way. I'd tell them that he never once even mentioned it to me, not wanting to distract me from my own problems. That he soldiered on without any help, that he wears battle scars to prove that he got through his fight. I would tell them that although I hurt him, so, so many times, he still managed to come back. He still managed to love me.
I would tell them that you showed me what it's like to live. You showed me how life could be, how it should be. You showed me love, something I've never felt before, and you made me FEEL. You made me feel alive for the first time. I would tell them that I'm so, so greatful. That I love Phil Lester with my whole body, and that I am so thankful for him.
You see, if somebody asked me about Phil Lester, I'd tell them that he saved my life.
But he couldn't save me from myself
And that, Phil, is what nobody could do. I'm losing myself, and I'm falling faster every day. It's getting harder to breathe, I'm suffocating. And I can't do it anymore, Phil. I couldn't. My mind is eating away at itself and it's not stopping, and soon it was going to hurt you too. You don't deserve that, no. You never did. I'm sorry, I know I've hurt you and I know nothing I say can ever be enough but it's going to be okay. Please don't miss me. Move on, let me go. Live your life, go, the universe needs its sun, don't let it die out.
Anyway, I guess that's all I have to say except I love you. Please never forget that I love you.
And thank you for giving me the best year of my life.
~Dan'
Tears are leaking from Dan's eyes as he folds the letter and scribbles Phil's name on the front. His heart is heavy, his goodbye to Phil replaying in his mind over and over as he stares at the folded letter. And finally, he feels ready.
There's nothing left to say.
Nothing left to do.
He shakily rises from the seat and turns, collecting the stuff he bought earlier from underneath the mattress. He figures he'll use both methods of suicide, just in case one doesn't work. He doesn't want to go through the pain of another failed attempt again, not this time. He knows what he wants. He takes the blades and the pills to the bathroom, turning the taps on full for the bath and ripping open the package. After a minute he sits on the edge of the tub, two blades sitting in the palm of his hand. His heart rate is frantic, his blood pumping as if to try and save him from something he wants so desperately. His hands begin to shake, the adrenaline pounding through his head and almost making him dizzy. He uses his free hand to pull on the taps, stopping the flow of water. Removing his clothes would be pointless he decides, so takes a deep breath and climbs into the bath with them still on. The water is warm, not cold as he'd imagined. It somehow makes things seem a little calmer, slowing his heart rate down and easing the growing fear in the pit of his stomach. Dan reaches a wet hand to his hair, pulling it back a little and taking a deep breath.
He's ready.
With a shaking hand, he unscrews the lids of all three pill bottles. He pushes the lids to the side, pouring the contents of all three bottles into his hand. He closes his eyes, and begins to swallow them. After the amount of pills he's taken before it isn't that hard to take them, and they all slip down easily. After a minute his hands are empty, and his heart rate is fast increasing at the sudden intake of medication. Now adamant on his decision, he reaches out and takes a blade from the side of the bathtub. Shaking violently, he stretches out his right arm and presses the blade against it. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.
And then he rips it through his skin.