Misfit (Phan AU)

Chapter Forty-Five

a/n: this isn't anything important, but this chapter is inspired by dodie's song "intertwined" bc im trash, so if ur looking for a lil somethin somethin to listen to while u read ;))

*Dan's POV* 

I sighed, pressing my hands against my face harsher for a fleeting second before I finally stood and allowed them to fall away. I blinked at the bleary reflection in the mirror in front of me, blindly allowing my hand to fumble to the side in search of a hand towel. I found one easily enough, wrinkling my nose in distaste at the distinct unfamiliar smell on the fabric as I patted my face down. I'd been expecting just a tad more relief than I'd actually gotten from escaping to the washroom to splash water on my face, if I was being honest.

I still felt stressed and uneasy, hardly in any shape to go back out there and face all of the human interaction that was surely awaiting me. Now that the adrenaline had fizzled out and the sound of sirens had started to drone on inside my head, the reality of the situation had really hit me. It hit me with the force of an oncoming train, knocking the breath right out of me.

That wasn't just a close call for me, or even for Phil, there were other people involved. Even worse was knowing that there was such a high probability of it happening again and things not just being a close call next time. Yet it was all on me, or at least it felt like it was. Obviously I wasn't alone in this, but no one was any closer than I was to finding a solution, and no one seemed to have quite the drive that I did.

Though, honestly, I'd be more surprised if any of them did. I couldn't exactly hold it against them for not caring quite as much as I did, I wasn't even entirely sure that normal people could care quite this much about something. It was all a bit new for me, really, the whole putting someone else so far before yourself thing. A small part of myself was still insistent that it was a mistake, that I was only asking to be hurt doing that, but that newer more emotional side of who I was seemed determined that protecting Phil was the only way to protect myself from being hurt now. And as I stood there, my eyes glued to the tired ones staring back at me in the mirror, I couldn't really bring myself to doubt that.

Succeeding in saving Phil seemed to be the only option now, so I'd be damned (literally) before I allowed myself to fail. That didn't mean I was fearless though, not by any means. More than anything I wanted to curl up in my bed and refuse to face the world, but just this once the promise of being temporarily comfortable couldn't deter from how important this was to me. Fires? Car crashes? Explosions? Not exactly how I expected to ring in the new year, but I would have to make due.

As stressful as it all was, it only took thinking about how Phil must have felt being thrown into the battlefield blind like he was to put it into perspective. For once he needed me more than I needed him and I would do everything in my power to help.

I scrubbed my hands over my freshly-washed face, taking a deep breath before opening the door. It took approximately two seconds for the overwhelming floral smell to catch up with me again, the pungent odor of old lady practically smothering me. I narrowed my eyes, starting down the hallway to where I'd last seen everyone in the kitchen.

As it turned out, the strange companion Chris had made during his stalking travels was definitely a hospitable one. She'd invited us to stay at her place for the afternoon while Phil's parents handled talking with the authorities and dialing up their insurance company, all of the fun adult stuff that I'd luckily been spared when Cat managed to catch my fire before it got out of hand.

And while I'd been skeptical, Phil had looked so weary from the events of the day that I'd found myself accepting her invitation without thinking. I should have hesitated, should have considered perhaps what kind of people easily befriend known stalkers and people like Chris Kendall, but I wasn't considering anything aside from how much I wanted to make things easier on Phil. I wasn't sure if I'd succeeded really, the amount of board games we'd all been roped into playing by now was staggering, and when Agatha wasn't offering up a multitude of homemade baked goods she was betting her way through a deck of cards and emptying out everyone's pockets with a smile.