my happy little pill | phan

18: Hush Little Baby, Don't You Craft

Dan's POV

The first thing that I become intensely aware of is my breathing. The air swells in my lungs and I feel the cool air stirring inside me. I let it seep out then, slowly and restfully, and I feel my lungs deflate again and thirst for air. I keep doing this for a while; just breathing. It's such a wonderful feeling to just...

Wait.

I breathe in again, sucking the air in through my nose hard and violently as if I've been holding my breath for ages and feel my heart thud sadly and painfully within my chest. I suddenly remember everything. The pills. The salty tears. The note for Phil on the bed. The Goodbye Internet video.

I'm still alive. I'm still here.

I'll have to face millions of questions about why I took an overdose of drugs and why I lied to Phil about being alright. Oh, my God. I can't do this. This is mortifying.

Maybe if I keep my eyes closed for a little bit longer I can avoid everyone poking and prodding me and -

"Dan?" a husky voice to my left whispers so quietly that I almost miss it. It's a voice that hasn't been used in a while, a hurt voice and tone. "Dan, it's me. It's Phil."

Phil Lester, my best friend who I've thoughtlessly injured and turmoiled, who is still counting on me to wake up and hasn't left my side. Oh, God. What did I ever do to deserve him? Why is he even still here? He should have ran a mile when he got my goodbye letter to him and forgotten about me. He should have left me.

But he didn't.

"Dan, please," Phil pleads, his voice breaking. "If you can hear me at all, just say something. Please."

His voice sounds so pained that I feel my heart literally splinter and snap into a thousand pieces. I remain silent. I can't talk to him yet.

He squeezes my hand. "I love you so, so much. I don't care if you don't remember me when you wake up, or you're paralysed or disabled in some way. I'll be here for you always. I don't want to lose you, Dan. I love you."

My eyes crack open slightly, just enough for me to see Phil. Phil, unshaven and wearing a checkered red shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top button undone. His hair is a little messy and he's looking at the floor so that he can't see my eyes staring back at him. I take off my oxygen mask with my free hand so that I can say something.
"And I love you," I whisper.

Phil's head snaps in my direction faster than I thought possible and his face stares at me in utter disbelief. For a long moment, he does nothing at all. I start to worry. What if he really does hate me? Well done, Dan. You've managed to fuck things up again.

Phil's face crumples, releasing a hundred emotions at once and he buries his head on my shoulder, his shoulders shaking as sobs rack through his body. This is all my fault. I hurt Phil like this.

"Don't you ever," he says through gritted teeth and kisses my forehead for the longest moment. "Try to leave me again."

I hold him in my arms as he lies awkwardly across my body with his chin hooked on my shoulder. Tears form in my eyes but they don't make it down my cheeks. I can't find the energy to cry but my heart hurts so much and my throat burns with unshed tears.

"How long has it been since..." I trail off, wondering how long I was in a coma for.

"Three weeks and three days," Phil's muffled voice says by my ear. "I've missed you so much, oh my God."

Three weeks and three days. The thought scares me. I can't remember anything that happened in the whole of January. That must mean that it's halfway through February already.

"What's today's date?" I ask quietly.

"February sixteenth," Phil mumbles quietly. We lie silent for a while. The silence speaks a thousand words and I close my eyes as I feel Phil's grip tighten on me. I can almost hear Phil's unsaid questions in the unmoving air. Why did you do it? Why did you not mention that you were having a tough time? Why...?

And I can't answer any of them because I literally have nothing to say except that I just want everything to stop. My head spins every time I think about my daily life and I hate the fact that my life is dictated by the small glances Phil and I share in videos and we can never say that we're in a relationship. Ever.

The last time I came dangerously close to committing suicide was in 2012. It was a terrible year for both me and Phil. My head was a total mess. Of course there was the forsaken Valentine's Day Video that made the Phandom go insane and it actually scared my how desperate they were for Phan to be real, and it could have been a good opportunity for us to come out and say that yeah the video was real and whatever, but some people took it way, way, way too far. I had fucking breakdowns over it all. Phil and I broke up for a while, and it was horrible. We just couldn't stay together if everyone was talking about the fucking video and being all PHAN IS REAL!1!1!1 shit. I couldn't face the world to those extremities. But of course, me or Phil couldn't move out of the flat because it would be too noticeable to the world that something was going on between us. No, I couldn't do that. That year sucked like hell. Some days I couldn't even eat when I got so overwhelmed by the amount of Subscribers we were getting and the amount of people pushing Phan in our faces, especially when we had called it quits. My world was falling apart. It fell apart.

Until Phil put it back together and we helped each other through what had happened. And slowly, we realised that maybe our friendship is too strong to just throw aside like it was rubbish. Then I kissed him in the kitchen one evening and I realised that I needed Phil more than anything in the whole world. He filled the empty hole in my heart that was made when we broke up. I need him like water and air.

Phil sighs against my ear and I shiver. Maybe that's just it. The Phandom is growing at a colossal rate and it's terrifying to think about it sometimes. All I know is that I need Phil to be with me through all of this because heaven knows I can't do this on my own.