A Collection Of Phan One-shots (Boyxboy)

We Aren't Weak

[A/N: Photo from http://tydannosaurusrex.tumblr.com/post/60877933950/remember-that-time-i-cried-into-phil-lesters]

Summary: Angst (I tried). At least one male per household is required to join the army. Months after Dan Howell-Lester left, a man comes to their door delivering news that Emilie and Phil Howell-Lester would rather not hear. How will they take this?

Black.

The darkest colour in the vast palette of colours. It shows strictness, it shows coldness, it shows formality. It shows the night sky when the moon is nowhere to be seen, stars dotting it at random places.

But to Phil, black is none of those things. To Phil, black is Dan's colour.

It is his. He is what Phil associates with it. Black is intelligence with a splash of quirkiness. Black is games. Black is hand-holding whilst seated at the fountain. Black is VidCon and other YouTube conventions. Black is laughter. Black is an awkward llama. But most of all, black is his love.

But even Phil can't deny that black means death.

That is all he can see. A black curtain hangs around him now that he knows.

A few hours earlier, a man arrived at his house and informed him of his loss. He said it in the most insensitive way, too. He said it as if he has never experienced love in his life.

Phil felt no comfort whatsoever.

At least one male in the household is required to join the army, that is what they said. Phil doesn't know who 'they' pertains to but he hates them with a passion. With a passion that once burnt his love for Dan but now only anger and despair is left.

Phil does not remember closing his front door. He does not remember kneeling down on his carpeted floor, bawling his eyes out for the one man that gave him the best years of his life. Those years he believed would last until they were old and wrinkly and teasing each other about the other's grey hairs. He does not remember crawling over to his favourite armchair and not having the strength to lift his body to sit on it properly.

He only remembers the pain. The sound of his heart breaking in his chest. The foreign feeling of someone reaching inside of him and ripping his heart into shreds.

Phil wraps his arms around his legs and buries his face into his knees. A deep voice mumbles and sobs and the sound reaches his ears. At first, he thinks it is someone else but realizes that they come from him. The shaky and ragged breaths match the rhythm of his heaving chest.

"N-no..." it says. Phil lets out a breath and it comes out as a wail. Phil moves himself back and forth in a soft rocking motion to soothe himself.

He is fine. He thinks he's fine. He hopes he's fine.

But then, they come.

The wave of memories that Phil is frightened of facing.

Dan and him moving together in the house. Their wedding. Dan proposing and Phil saying 'yes'. The book tour. Going to different countries together. Writing the book. Moving to London. Sight-seeing London. Together in lots of countless conventions. Moving together in Manchester. Meeting each other in real life for the first time at Piccadilly Train Station. Their neverending Skype calls. Phil recieving Dan's first reply to him on Twitter.

All of those and more.

Much, much more.

A sob racks through Phil's body and he lets out a choked scream.

No.

Dan...

Why?

Phil tucks his head deeper and he closes his eyes, his grip around himself tightening. He tries to pretend that it is Dan who is holding him close. His thumb rubbing the back of his hand. Phil swears he feels the warmth of Dan's body heat around his shuddering form.