Yangire (Yandere Sequel)///Phan

Exulansis

-A/n: um let's pretend I didn't procrastinate writing this for WEEKS. Yikes. Anyways, I missed writing crazy Dan, so here's some crazy Dan. I have the rest of the story plotted, so I hope you guys still care enough to read.-

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Dan stood outside with his hands tucked inside the pockets of his jacket. The cold air felt like tiny ice pricks against his cheeks. He couldn't resist it, despite the slim chance of him being seen. He had glanced at it a few times, from the barn, and he promised himself that he would sit in the clearing amongst the grass and flowers at least once.

He sat in the spot, the one he could never forget, the one that made him smile on his worst days in the asylum. He could never forget that date with Phil, when Phil was the happiest he had ever been around Dan, when Phil's smile made the cold, dreary day, seem like a summer in California.

That was before everything. Before the escape, before the Asylum, before Phil's world had completely changed.

Dan sat on the cold grass and remembered. He wondered, if he had never transfered schools, had never moved into this town. Would Phil be happily married by now? With a house and a dog; a degree in film. Maybe he would have married his first crush. Dan flinched at the memory of the boy, terrified, pleading and screaming under the blade in Dan's shaky, inexperienced hand.

Dan sighed and picks at the grass.

"I'm sorry, everyone, I'm sorry I took you all away from him. But I've paid my debts in that horrible asylum, and I'd really appreciate it IF YOU COULD ALL GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD NOW!" Dan yelled, pulling up a handful of grass by the roots and standing up with his fists at his sides.

"I'M GOING TO MAKE HIM HAPPY YOU'LL ALL SEE. I'M GOING TO GIVE HIM A HOUSE WITH A VIEW AND A DOG," Dan paused, "and we're going to fall asleep watching anime on the couch. We're finally going to be normal and happy, and he'll have everything he deserves, I'll give him everything." A single tear escaped from his eye as he stared at the ground.

"Dan?"

Dan gasped and spun around. Phil stood there in a pair of pajamas he had bought in town, Star Wars printed and blue.

"Dan, what are you doing out here?" Phil asked, rubbing his tired eyes under his glasses.

"Nothing. Just thinking..." Dan replied.

"I heard you yelling."

"Yeah..."

"Was it the voices?"

Dan nodded, "kind of..."

"I've been hearing them too, at night when I can't sleep." Phil steps closer and hold's Dan's pinky with his own. A comfortable silence falls on them as they stand there in the same spot they stood years ago.

A soft laugh from Phil breaks the silence.

"I knew this spot looked familiar."

"Phil I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you're on the run with me, living in a barn. I'm sorry that you had to give up film, uni, and your friends and family. I'm sorry I killed your friends. I'm sorry we don't have a house with a view and a cute dog. I'm-"

"Woah, woah, Dan. It's okay. You know I love you, yeah? I don't want any of that if I can't have you with me, and once we get rid of those guys we can have all of that and more."

Dan shook his head. "But we can't , Phil. At least not here. I'd be recognized; thrown in jail. Everyone knows who I am and what I've done. I could never meet your family or hold a job. Hell, I can't even go outside without the risk of someone seeing me." Dan's doubts spiraled in his mind once again.

"Well then we'll leave the country. I can find someone who can help us get fake passports."

Dan looked at the sky, the grey clouds beginning to merge into a thick storm. He seemed to realize something and slowly nodded.

"I'm going to give you everything, Phil Lester." A promise he would keep.

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"So who's on the hit list?" Phil asked, munching on his, or Dan's, cereal. 

"Three people, all in London." Dan replied, sighing as he tried to poor his cereal, which was mysteriously empty for just being bought the night before.

"I used to see them around the asylum sometimes...they watched as their products were tested on us. No remorse, not even a flinch." Dan stared at the splintered table, remembering a not so distant past. "I pleaded once, when the doctors cut my arms with scalpels and poured some sort of new anti-bacterial drug on the wounds. The woman's name was Schmidt, Bethany Schmidt. I looked straight into her eyes and I cried, I pleaded for her to make them stop. And you know what she did? She laughed. She laughed until the blood had dried and the cuts had been sewn up." Dan felt Phil's arms wrap around him.

"Oh, Dan." Phil nearly whispered. 

"Before she left, she told me something. Something that I believed for a long time before you came back."

Phil slowly loosened his grip to look up, searching Dan's eyes for something he could do to take his memories of the awful place away. 

"What did she say?" 

"She said crazy people, like me, didn't deserve mercy. I deserved to suffer because I had no mercy...for them. She said I was a burden to society and that I had to repay my debts."

"Oh, Dan." Phil repeated, simply because he couldn't believe anyone would treat his Dan that way. 

"I think...we should do her first." Dan said, blinking the tears off his eyelashes. 

Phil moved his hands up to cup Dan's face. He peppered kisses on every tear until there were no more. 

"I agree." Phil murmured against Dan's skin. He couldn't help it; this urge to protect Dan. It was something that manifested the first night he saw him bruised and broken. 

"When shall we leave?" Phil asked, hovering over Dan's lips. 

"As soon as possible."