Not On Fire (Phan AU)

28 | there is no monster--only me

Dan had always pictured the world as paper thin and flimsy, easy to knock over and easy to burn. It practically screamed destruction. One wrong step at the foundation would crack, the support crumble, and everything would topple over right along with it. That skyscrapers were pretty if you admired, but didn't touch.

But he's been standing on top of a burning one for quite sometime now, trying to decide if the stairs were a better option than just jumping and getting it over with. Instead of someone coming to push him over, Phil came and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him towards the stairs.

Of course, juvenile detention awaited him at the bottom of them.

Which is exactly where he is right now--in a building on the opposite side of town filled with people he doesn't know and probably would never meet otherwise.

It hadn't taken them that long to get everything sorted, less than a day, but they had waited to move him until the day afterwards to make sure everything was in order and there would be no problems.

He hasn't seen Phil since that night. It wasn't that long ago, but it feels ages ago. Like when you watch a show as it's coming out and an episode ends with a cliffhanger and you have to wait a week for the next one. It's not that long. It goes by pretty quickly, but it feels like forever as you think about what happened and what's going to happen over and over again.

The worst part of it all is that he knows Phil doesn't hate him even though he should. He knows that he owes more to Phil than he'll ever be able to repay. His heart doesn't race when he thinks his name. It sinks, weighted down by guilt, disappointment, and emotions he can't quite name. Emotions that he doesn't want to think about.

After years and years of ignoring his feelings and bottling them up, they're all coming out now, flooding his mind and making it hard for him to stay afloat and breathe. The fire inside of him has been put out.

He feels the lack of its presence with every step he takes. When he had first arrived, he had been forced to change into an orange jumpsuit--very stereotypical and kind of annoying, for multiple reasons, but he just shrugged and did what they said because he knew if anybody else had done what he did, they wouldn't have gotten off easy. He watches his feet as he walks, doesn't dare look at anybody.

Cells line the walls, two bunk beds in each one. Four people to a cell, but everybody just looks the same. Orange jumpsuits and scowls on the few faces that he dares look at out of the corner of his eye.

The spotlight is on him today, though. He doesn't have to look to know that the eyes are on him. He's the arsonist--dressed in orange, how ironic. After living in the shadows for so long, the attention is too much. Never one to consider himself shy, yet that's what he feels like right now. Without a costume on, he's just naked and vulnerable.

"This is where you'll be," the guy leading him says, unlocking a cell near the end of the hallway with three other guys in it. His voice is rough, his words short and to the point. There's nothing friendly about it because he doesn't deserve pleasantries.

Dan walks in slowly, though the way everybody is looking at him begs him to speed up, almost shuffles in. When was the last time he felt this out of place somewhere? Probably the first day of kindergarten. He'd say preschool, but his mom was almost always there because she volunteered. But he's digressing--to avoid the reality of the situation, to pretend like he's normal, because he realizes that he can't stop thinking but he can redirect his thoughts.

The guy slams the door shut afterwards and it's just him and the other three guys.

It's silent for a second--but barely so. Right after Dan takes a seat on the only empty bed--the top bunk on the right side--a guy with a buzzcut and a lip piercing says, "You're the guy that set all the fires, right?" He's right across from Dan on the top bunk, sitting with his legs hanging over the edge.