alllll the fics

his already weakened knees (the sweet relief of becoming something more)

Description: Pj dies. Phil falls into a crisis, reliving the last time he lost a best friend.

Warnings: Death

(title is from pj's video, colour bandits. this was really fun to write actually)

"PJ Liguori was more than just a man. He was a friend, a son, an established short filmmaker.."

The words droned on, a dull buzz inside Dan's head. He didn't listen anymore.

Dead.

He turned, looking at Phil beside him. His face was stern and straight, no sign of breaking anywhere but the slight redness of his eyes and the slow-drying tears that were left on his cheeks. He was dressed in black. This was not what Pj would've wanted.

"And though he is gone now, his memory will stay with us and live on in our hearts.."

Dead.

Dan turned just a little further, knowing that spinning around all the way on the bench would be rude. Behind them, people were collapsing one by one, sobbing into their knees and the shoulders of people beside them. He and Phil were the only two not crying. This was not what Pj would've wanted.

Up in the front, behind the man (who was also wearing black), Pj was there. And he still looked alive. Dan hadn't seen many dead people before, but he'd figured they'd be grey and somber looking. But lying with his eyes closed, he could've just been sleeping, like he could've sat up and looked around the room if he'd wanted to. He still almost seemed to be smiling. That was a little better- Dan knew he would've been.

He was shaken from his thoughts when a small line formed in front of him, blocking his view. It was person after person, hugging Pj awkwardly in his coffin and saying their final goodbyes. Dan's heart sank to his toes. That meant he'd have to say his goodbyes, too. He nudged Phil softly, nodding up at the line forming. Phil stood up, his face still stone-like. He walked up to the line with stiff legs. After the person in front of them, a girl in a flowy dress that Dan didn't recognize stepped away dabbing at her eyes, Dan and Phil stepped up together, looking down at their friend. Dan was the first to speak, rubbing his neck harshly and saying in a quiet voice, "This doesn't feel right." Dan looked up from Pj's body.

"I mean.." Dan turned his head back down. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to say. Phil nodded anyway, face still unmoving. Dan leaned in towards Pj, having to crouch, almost on his knees to be close enough to talk in what felt like privacy. "Hey," he whispered, and almost laughed at the sheer obscurity of it. This was strange. He bit down hard on his lip, knowing laughing wouldn't be the best idea. "I just.. This is weird. You don't figure you're gonna be looking at your friend, dead. Not this early anyway." The words felt thick and muddy coming out of his mouth, and the urge to cry was just now hitting him. He wasn't sure what else he could say. "I'll miss you, Peej." He reached in to brush a finger across his cheek in a comforting way, but pulled back quickly as he was met with cold skin. It hit him again- Dead.

Dan stepped away to let Phil have his moment speaking with him. It was a lot longer than what Dan had taken, and when he stood from where he was kneeling, his face wasn't cold and unmoving, but soft and wet around his eyes. Phil started to walk away, but stopped as he felt the front of his pocket. "Hold on," he muttered, turning around and tucking something in beside Pj. He turned and gave Dan a look that told him to not ask. Dan nodded, letting Phil grab his sleeve and lead him back to where they were sitting. All around them, people were crying harder now. No one was talking about who Pj was to them, about his accomplishments, or about anything. It was just empty air clouded by muffled sobs. Dan flinched. This was not what Pj would've wanted.