Drive // PHAN

13.

-TW-

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Things didn't magically get better after that. Sure, Phil backed off, but things were awkward, others still bullied him, and he was still dealing with depression, and an eating disorder. Phil knew none of the last three though, Phil must've thought that he was the only one hurting Dan, and that Dan honestly didn't care. Dan did care, though, obviously.

So here Dan was, knees curled up to his chest, breaths short and cheeks wet, wondering how things could get worse. Phil hadn't talked to him in three days, yet alone looked his way, and Dan wondered if he'd be happier getting hit. At least he'd have Phil's attention that way.

Looking over at his dresser, a piece of metal glinted in the moonlight from his window, practically calling Dan's name. Dan listened, picking up the piece of sharp metal with two fingers. He pulled up his sleeves, and what was under was enough to take anyone's breath away, even Dan's own. Burns, cuts, bruises, you name it, it was on his arms. He wouldn't stop though, it was the only release he had. He didn't do drugs, or drink alcohol, he hurt himself. It worked, so his mind jeered him to do it over and over again, telling him it was the only way.

How could something so dangerous feel so elating?

He slid the cold metal across his skin with trembling hands, watching as the blood slowly oozed out, and his conscience screamed at him not to go further, but he did. He kept going until he felt relieved.

The thing was, this time he didn't.

He went on and on, deeper and deeper, and he didn't and up feeling happier this time, as a mix of salty tears and thick blood clotted at his elbow and dripped onto his legs.

There he sat, horrified that he went too deep, and not feeling any better. His bottom lip trembled, bringing on a new wave of tears, as he held his arm above his bedsheets. He didn't know what to do, who to call, of if he should call anyone at all.

There was only one person he trusted enough, even though he knew he shouldn't.

Reaching for his phone, he shakily pressed through apps until he found the phone, looking for the right contact, and pressing call. He pressed the phone to his ear, hearing the ring.

"Dan?"

"P-Phil?"