safe and sound (A Phanfiction)

Explanations

A/N: I'm not really sure how many people know about it so I might as well say it so there is no confusion. the italic words represent what they're thinking. That is all. ENJOY! 

Phil's  POV

Why do I promise these kind of things? I think as I sit down at the dining table, across from Dan. We are both eating cereal, I may or may not have mixed in some of his with mine. We eat in silence until the dreaded but inevitable conversation starts, "So Phil...do you remember what happened last night?"

I quietly nod, hoping not to speak until it's required. He looks up at me, "Do you remember what you told me?"

I nod again. He sighs and rolls his eyes, "Could you TELL me what you said?"

I sigh and slowly look up at him meeting his gaze. I carefully but firmly say, "I promised that I would tell you what was going on."

He looks at me expectantly, and when I don't say anything, He says a bit demanding, "Well? ARE you?"

I look back down and let out a shaky breath, "You're going to make me anyway, aren't you?"

"Yup."

I stay silent for another moment, then brace myself for it, "O-Okay then."

I start slowly and quietly, "I-I have been having these nightmares, for about the past four or five days. The first one was the least horrible out of all of them. But....there is one thing they all have in common."

I look up at him and say just loud enough for him to hear, "...They're all about you, and you dying."

His eyes widen a bit, but after a moment, he quietly says, "Go on."

I look quickly back down, "Well more the different kinds of ways you die. The first night was sort of an emotion kind of death, you were really upset with me and told me you were leaving and never coming back. I woke up and just reminded myself you haven't left and I was fine. But the second night was much, much worse. It was the night before the interview. I remember you running down an ally from a big, dark figure. You run into a dead end and-and..." I look up at him, "and he kills you. He murders you."

He replies, his voice shaky, "Is that why you flipped out at the interview? You thought you saw...him?"

I nod. He just looks at me and tells me to continue. I start to talk a bit faster, keeping my eyes on him, "The night after that, the nightmare was about you committing suicide. I walked in your room, you had cut yourself, then you yelled at me about it being my fault....and then you killed yourself."

He looks shocked, probably reminded of his history, "What was last night's one about?"

I look quickly down and lie, "I-I don't remember."

"Phil, you do remember, tell me."

"I don't want to."

"Tell me."

"No."

"TELL ME!"

I slam my fist on the table and look at him, tears streaming down my face, "I killed you! I killed you okay!? We got in a fight, I somehow snapped, and I stabbed you to death! Happy now!?"

I curl up in a ball, crying into my knees. I sob, "You- you probably think I'm crazy...I get it if you want to go."

Suddenly, I feel a pair of arms go around my body. I look up and see Dan sitting by me, hugging me tightly. He smiles, stops hugging me, and looks at me warmly, "Phil, you're not crazy. I'm your friend, I would never leave you while you're like this. Whatever this is, we are going to work through this together. It's been Dan and Phil, friends forever since 2009, and it not going to stop now just because of some dreams."

I look at Dan, "Well if I have to go through this, I'm glad you're here to help."

Dan hugs me again, "I will be here as long as you need. I'm your friend, that's my job."

I quickly wrap my arms around Dan before he can pull away, hugging him tightly, "Thank you."

He gasps for breath, "Your welcome, but Phil...you're kind of crushing my lungs."

I immediately let go and laugh, " Oh. Haha sorry."

We smile at each other, then quickly finish our breakfast. Dan washes the dishes as I sit on the couch to turn on the TV, happy to know I have a friend.

If only he was more than a friend. I quickly shake my head, confused where that thought came from. I shrug and start channel surfing, completely forgetting about the thought.