Maybe

Title: Maybe

Word Count: 1,285

Warnings: angst, mild swearing

Dan hates Christmas. He didn’t get why it everyone pretended to be happy because it was Christmas.  And as he glared out his window, trying to drown out the neighbour's carols with Fall Out Boy, it came to his attention that in three hours it would be the first anniversary of his worst day ever.

Forcing the flood of memories to the back of his mind, Dan stumbles into the kitchen. He grabs a bottle of vodka off the counter. Taking a deep gulp, he heads into the living room. 

It looked empty. Hell, it was empty. Dan flopped down on the couch, putting the bottle to his lips and chugging it. His eyes burned when he  swallowed and his nose had start to run. Dan felt the familiar warmth that accompanied straight up alcohol.  Where Is Your Boy started to play and Dan felt the sudden urge for silence. He turned the music off and finished the vodka.

The apartment was quiet. For about three seconds, then another track started in his neighbours flat.  It was the that one song about wanting a lover for Christmas. Anger boiled through Dan. He chucked the empty bottle at the opposite wall and sunk to his knees.

“ITS NOT FAIR!” He screamed.

Because it wasn’t.

How was it fair that everyone Dan knew was spending the holidays  with someone they loved and he wasn’t.

How was it fair that four Christmases ago Phil was killed by a drunk driver who thought it would be okay to drive away from the scene.

HOW WAS IT FAIR?

Tears were steadily streaming down Dan’s face now.

How was it fair that when the paramedics found Phil, Dan had been at home waiting for his boyfriend to return.

Scrambling to his feet, Dan grabbed the nearest breakable thing and flung it across the room. There was an open bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. He chugged the burning liquid and threw that too.

“GODDAMMIT PHIL!” He screamed.

Dan missed his older companion. He missed Phil so fucking much. Sobs racked through the brown-haired boy as he collapsed in a chair.

And before he stop it a rush of memories came flooding back.

December 24, 8.04 pm.

 Dan was home, waiting for Phil to return. The raven haired boy had mentioned that he needed to get some champagne as they would be celebrating later. 

December 24, 9.12 pm.

It was only when Phil hadn't returned an hour later that Dan began to worry. What could be causing his boyfriends late arrival? Had he been attacked? Or had the supper market run out of the bubbly drink he adored, causing Phil to walk to  the liqour stand four blocks away?

December 24, 11.37 pm.

After two more hours of frantic text messages and multiple phone calls to a voice mail box, did Dan receive a reply. His phone rang louder than he had though was capable and the nervous boy answered it on the second ring. 

"Thank god! Phil what happened to you?" Dan asked, nervous and slightly agitated.

"Is this Mr. Daniel Howell speaking?" A woman's voice inquired from the phone.

Dan's hands began to shake.

"Y-yes," he answered, "where's Phil?"

"Mr. Howell, I'm sorry to inform you that your friend Philip has been in an accident." The woman's voice lacked the regret a normal human would have in this situation.