Drinking Eases The Pain

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Description: Dan thinks drinking will help him ease his pain. (hint: it won’t you dummy)

Warnings: Actual warnings for once, so read with caution, guys- alcoholism, actual depression, blah blah blah. What’d you expect?

Nothing is even worth it anymore.

He can watch those stupid videos that he has saved, look at the pictures, or even just lie down and cry- but why the fuck is it worth it? He’s not worth his own fucking tears. He deserves to lie down and die. He shouldn’t eat or sleep or blink or move or even breathe, because he’s not fucking worth it. He’s not worth Phil anymore, so he isn’t worth himself. And it’s not that he cares that people are still writing these fics, people are still reading too much into every look, every touch. But it’s a little uncomfortable. He knew getting into this that there are some weird people on the internet, there’s going to be ships and fanfics and art and everything about them. It’s just that they’re right. They’ve got it figured out, they know what goes on in his heart, but they’re so far off at the same time. They try writing about how Phil is still in love with Dan, how Phil just wants Dan back, how Phil wishes they had’t broken up (Dan knows; He reads them a lot). But they’ve go it backwards. Phil doesn’t love Dan. Phil is a heartless bastard. Phil is evil and made Dan think he wasn’t even fucking worthy of his own tears.

But it wasn’t his fault. Dan knew it was his fault for being useless.

He didn’t know why Phil did it, honestly. It’s hard to remember the night that it happened. Dan remembers it as a blur of words that hurt and slamming doors and screaming and crying and drinking until his body went numb and he blacked out. He remembers Phil said something about him being ‘too soft, too weak, too needy and clingy.’ Something like he was too young and too annoying, too much to handle. And Dan knew he was right. But the drinking was what really intrigued him. He can’t remember what it did for him, if it made it better or if it made it worse. He remembers Phil left for the night, he was red in the face and crying. But why was Phil crying? It was his fault. He didn’t have to break Dan’s heart like that, but why shouldn’t he? Dan was useless and should just die. Because nothing could ever make him happy after that night. And Dan knew that from the very beginning, he knew Phil would do it. He held on too long.

So why was he doing it? Why was Dan lying in bed wearing Phil’s hoodie, wishing he could bring himself to cry? What was the point? It wouldn’t make Phil love him again. Nothing would. Phil had said he’d love Dan forever. He said he needed him, he wouldn’t ever love anyone else like that. He had it on video, too (he was listening to it on repeat). He could listen to Phil saying it whenever he needed to. But why would he? What would be the point of making himself believe he was okay? Phil wasn’t his, Phil wasn’t in love with him, and Phil never was.

Phil opened the door, and Dan noticed and ducked under his sheets just a second too late.

"Dan, are you crying?"

"No."

"Dan, let me see your face."

"No."

"Don’t be like that."

"I fucking said no.

Phil didn’t seem to care that he said no, as he stripped away the sheets anyway. He saw the tear marks on his cheeks, saw the red around his eyes, and sadness clouded his eyes. “Dan..”

"Phil, I thought I said no."

Dan…" he repeated, pulling him up out of the sheets. Dan shook away from his grip. He pushed himself to the edge of the bed, curling up, trying not to touch him. "Leave."

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