drop dead ; phan

xx

phil stood anxiously outside of the all-too-familiar, paint-chipped door that belonged to chris, clouds of hazy smoke leaking out from the cigarette between his fingers. questions raced through out his brain to make up for the eerie lack of noise in the building, the only sounds present being the vaguely-comprehensible shouts from what phil gathered to be a couple a few floors up. his knuckles cracked against the wooded door, erupting sounds of hushed shuffling and footsteps nearing the door. the door swung open halfway, revealing a shirtless chris, grey sweatpants loosely hugging his hips and a toothbrush hanging between his teeth. dark, uneven stubble peppered around his chin, and phil immediately took notice of the countless new tattoos that freckled his toned body.

"lester?" the brunette questioned, furrowing his eyebrows. "no gun? you're getting sloppy," phil remarked, quirking a brow and walking inside the flat. chris scoffed, raising his arm that remained hidden behind the door and revealing a silver rifle. "what the fuck happened to you?" the brunette mumbled, gesturing to the litter of bruises and cuts covering phil's face. the ebony-haired man shrugged, "car wreck. it was nothing."

"doesn't look like nothing, was it business related?" chris inquired in speculation. phil remained silent, earning a sigh from the brunette. "why are you here?" he questioned, spitting the foamy toothpaste into his kitchen sink and looking expectantly. his eyes suddenly narrowed in suspicion, "have you been talking to damien?"

phil nodded. "yeah, he told me you've been working for him," he paused, "but he didn't say why." chris exhaled deeply, "it's none of your business why i do what i do. what about you, anyway? what were you talking to damien about?" sighing, phil leaned against the countertop. "jobs, i needed some hirings."

"thought you said you weren't going back," chris muttered hesitantly. "piss off, you're the one who's killing people for fun nowadays." chris's eyes narrowed. "it's not for fun." phil hesitated before speaking up again. "whatever, i need some firepower. guns, knives, give me a full stock," he paused, "and i could use your expertise in these. damien said he wasn't paying you, you could use the money."

"what about that howell kid, where's he, anyways?" chris questioned. "he's getting info on the names, but we both know that as of now, he's practically useless in the field. and i don't want him there, anyway," phil answered reluctantly. "i don't want him getting hurt."

* * *

oh, and btw logan says hi

dan's eyes widened as he frantically pressed the call button, chewing his bottom lip as he anxiously hoped for pj to answer. "hey dan," the familiar cheery voice that belonged to the brunette sounded through the phone, relieving dan. "h-hey, is logan there?" he asked hurriedly, feeling his heart thumping against his chest. "no, he left a little while ago, what's wrong? you sound worried," pj asked hesitantly. "what did he say to you? are you hurt?"

"hurt?" pj repeated in confusion, "what's going on? he said you two were friends." dan exhaled apprehensively. "no, he's, he's, he's dangerous. don't let him near you, okay?"

"dan, what's going on? what did you do?" he asked after a moment. "i-i can't, i, just, dan stammered, "just stay away from him, okay? trust me?" he heard pj scoff from the phone, before saying, "yeah, yeah okay. stay safe, dan."

dan sighed in relief, exhaling a breath he didn't know he was holding. "thanks, bye." he hung up hesitantly, running his fingers through his hair stressfully, before-

knock, knock, pause, knock, knock

the knocking pattern he and phil had earlier agreed on sounded from the door, causing his gaze to shoot up from his tremulous knees. "phil," he grinned upon opening the door, but soon dropped his relieved expression when meeting the gaze of the brunette behind him. "what's he doing here?" he questioned grimly, narrowing his eyes. chris scoffed, brushing straight past him towards the kitchen.

"nice to see you too, howell," he mumbled, grabbing a beer from the stocked fridge. "he's here to help, he's nearly as good as me when it comes to field work," phil answered. "i don't trust him," dan hissed, keeping his gaze locked on the drinking brunette as he spun around on a twirling chair. "you don't have to," the ebony-haired man replied dimly, "now, what do you have on the names?" dan sighed, removing his eyes from chris. "i have locations on this first name, scott hammond. he works at a corporation downtown, gets off work at 9. address is 1440 greenwood avenue, lives alone."

"good job, do you have a photo?" phil inquired, the brunette in front of him pulling a low-quality photograph of a ginger man out of his pocket. phil bit his lip, taking the photo and waving it towards chris. "well, it's 7:37 now, lets get ready," he nodded in response, a cruel smile tainting his bruised lip.

* * *

"ready?" phil whispered, handing the binoculars to chris, who didn't bother looking before standing up. "do you need to ask? let's go," he stated, starting to walk down the hill they were perched upon, directly towards the ginger man who was exiting his office. "are you hammond?" chris inquired hurriedly, not waiting for an answer as he pulled out his gun. "chris, we're out in the ope-"

bang !!

bang !!

the corpse dropped dead to the cement, his blood splattered against the wall behind him. "damien's right, you are getting sloppy," phil scoffed, sliding his unused knife back into his pocket. "eh, it's anderson who's gettin' the body anyway."

"anderson? that son of a bitch is still alive?" phil scoffed, earning a grim chuckle from chris. "as unfortunate as it is, yeah." (literally everyone @ me)

"even with him, you shouldn't make assumptions when you're in our line of work," phil sighed, crossing his arms. chris darkly chuckled.

"oh, piss off, let's go already."