Phan One-Shots

Tell Me Who To Be

A/n: A NEW UPDATE AFTER ONLY (approximately) TEN DAYS?? THIS IS UTTER MADNESS??

Genre: Angst, smut

Word Count: 15183

Summary: Set in mid-2012, tensions are high and the chances of recovering from this feel low, but Phil can't bring himself to stop caring for the sad boy in the room across the hall from him.

Warnings: Just general angst, alcohol mentions, smut (no actual fricklefrackling but they do other stuff)

*third person*

Phil had recently decided that he hated their flat at 3am.

It's not that he didn't like quiet, he loved the relaxing atmosphere that came along with being able to think without any interruption or influences. And it's not really that he had a fear of the darkness that engulfed everything, the way shadows crept in on even the remaining electronically provided light, as if it wouldn't be happy until it'd snuffed out every bit of brightness for the night. He didn't even mind how exhausted and hazy his mind felt each time something would shake him from sleep at an unreasonable hour.

No, it was the sense of detachment from the rest of the world that bothered him most. Unlike any other time of day when the life outside his window was obvious and blatant in the city where they lived, it was near unnoticeable. He had to really listen, had to scramble out of bed and lean against his window sill with his ears perked, just to hear a shred of conversation or interaction from the world below.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they resided closer to the heart of the city, where people would be working night shifts and going through their responsibilities despite the hour, but as it was he was left hoping to hear even the distant sounds of his downstairs neighbors bickering to offer him something to help cling to reality with.

He felt alone, frankly.

He wasn't sure when it had started, surely it hadn't bothered him this much back when he lived at home with his family, but at some point since moving out he had really come to dread the nights he couldn't sleep all the way through. He feared them even, sometimes, which only led to him struggling to fall asleep and stay that way even more.

And sure, there were likely pills he could grab at the corner store down the street to help himself stay unconscious through the night, but generally it wasn't such a frequent problem that he stopped to consider alternatives to dealing with it.

Recently though, it had been bad. He couldn't remember the last night he'd managed to sleep through, couldn't remember what it was like to fall into bed and tune out of the world instantly, only to be greeted with sunshine the second his eyes fluttered open again.

It wasn't that simple anymore.

On the off chance that he did fall asleep, it never lasted all that long. He tossed and turned himself near out of the bed some nights, plagued with awful nightmares that he couldn't stand to see through until the end even if it meant getting the rest he so badly needed.

It wasn't even your stereotypical nightmare themes either. He didn't fear death's horse chasing him down, didn't lose sleep over the thought of falling aimlessly, wasn't even bothered at all by the thought of horrific monsters hunting him down. It was reality that haunted him, day in and day out. The things that he could actively tune out while he was awake caught up to him quickly the second he slipped out of consciousness, and they were always desperate to make up for lost tormenting time that they'd missed out on while he was warding them away.

It was Dan chucking their shared belongings at Phil when his thoughts got so overwhelming that he turned them off completely and acted out without thinking. It was the gut-wrenching hurt that swept low through his stomach when he'd stumble across yet another way Dan had gone about establishing just how platonic and separate their lives were. It was the constant creeping fear that one of these times he would come home to an empty flat when Dan inevitably decided that it wasn't worth all the hassle of staying, that separate lives and peace of mind were far more valuable than the friendship they were working so hard to keep afloat.