suicide hotline / phan

14

*Wow, I'm so sorry its been so long 😂 IT WONT BE THIS LONG AGAIN I PROMISE! This chapter is pretty bad, but it won't be long (hopefully only a couple of days) until you get the next one, so I'm guessing it'll make up for my awful writing?*

Dan's been gone for an hour. Where the fuck is he? Phil anxiously paces the kitchen, a mix of fear and anger brewing deep in his stomach, but mainly fear. He tries to steady his breathing; he has to let Dan be independent, it's part of his recovery, right? He has to learn that he can do things for himself without having to be helped. But then again... what if something has happened? After all, it was just a quick trip to the shops and back, then doesn't take an hour... surely. Phil rests against the kitchen counter, his hands grasping onto the smooth marble as if it's the only thing holding him to the earth, keeping him sane before the roaring fire of worry takes over. It's okay, it's okay, he's okay, he'll be back soon. But what if it's not okay? Phil's hands speedily tap against the counter as if trying to create an angry storm of noise, and they won't shut up. Why won't they shut the hell up?! He grabs his hand, desperately trying to hold his fingers still. For fuck's sake. He rummages through the kitchen drawer, eventually finding his own bottle of pills hidden under a mess of tea towels and other random kitchen essentials. He thought that he could go a few days without them, slowly weaning them out of his system, but not at the moment. They are prescribed for anxiety, and he's taken them for two years, ever since he was diagnosed. He throws the dose into his mouth, messily pouring a glass of water and eventually swallowing them down. He sighs, he thought that maybe he could really come off of them. But especially with looking after Dan- not that he doesn't love Dan with all his heart- but it's a lot of constant stress and worry piled on top of the crashing waves of panic he already had to deal with. He hasn't told Dan about his anxiety and he doesn't plan to anytime soon; it isn't something that affects him personally a great deal... not anymore, anyway. But he had learnt to deal with it well, and he knows Dan has his own problems. He doesn't want Dan to have to worry about him on top of all of that. He looks up at the clock. An hour and a half. He can't leave Dan any longer, it's ripping him apart. He rushes out of the house, hurriedly locking the door behind him and jumping into his car. His hands grip the steering wheel as he tries to control his breathing. His vision has began to spin slightly with his rapid breaths draining the air from his gasping lungs. He shakes his head and turns on the engine, then begins to speed down the road.

~~~

Dan slowly blinks his eyes open, wincing in pain as a headache hits him like a brick. He slowly lifts his bruised hand, which he soon realizes is sticky with his own pool of blood. He should just lay there, keep bleeding until he eventually can't anymore. Until his heart stops and he's no longer breathing. It's as if he were a recovered drug addict having a shot of heroin- he can feel the darkness swallowing his brain again beyond the point of recovery. But still, anyway, he knows he has to get up. Not for himself, he doesn't think, but because it's all he can do. And because he can't leave Phil, it would break him. He staggers forward, pulling himself up with all the strength he has. His shirt is stained red, but luckily there isn't any severe injury that he can feel besides the fact he can barely walk without pain shooting throughout his whole body. He gradually stretches his hand to his head, flinching as he hits a field of bruises and his head screams in pain as a result. The world spins around him, causing him to almost pass out. He has to go. He's been gone for at least an hour now, and he can't even begin to imagine what Phil's thinking. Phil. God, he must be freaking out. He has to get back, now. But then again... should he? Phil doesn't deserve to deal with Dan's issues, he's done so much already. It'll only break him. Dan shouldn't go back, and although his heart screams out that he wants to, his brain screams out that it would just hurt Phil too much. They battle each other out, only causing the pain to intensify, his mind racing, and neither cause is winning. In the end he just finds himself stumbling out of the alleyway, heading into any direction he can actually see. He's not sure if any lie on Earth could cover up the swelling bruises all over him, or if he'll even go back to Phil, but he knows he can't tell him the truth; it would worry him too much. That's the last thing Dan wants. No matter what happens, Phil has to stay unaware. He has to stay happy, carefree, shielded from the harsh realities of Dan's crumbling life. And that's why he can't go back. He can't, he just can't! He doesn't deserve Phil and he never did. No matter how much he loves him, no matter how much he needs him, nobody- especially Phil- should ever have to be lugged with Dan Howell and his pathetic issues. And that's when Dan breaks down into tears.

Why would anyone want him? Why should anyone have to deal with him? He's just a wreck, a losing battle that brings up everyone's hope and then shatters it painfully. A disappointment to everyone. Even to himself. Dan's legs are in agony but this point but he really doesn't care, he just keeps walking. The pain doesn't really bother him; he's used to it. Eventually he finds himself on a park bench, no longer dripping with blood but instead crusty with the dried, reddish-black form. Luckily there isn't much actually on him anymore, but it doesn't really feel very pleasant. Dan carefully leans back in the chair, letting his eyes wander. There's not many people in the park, only a couple of children with their supposed parents. His breathing is still shaky and uneven from earlier, and the air is cold. It doesn't bother him much though. Dan can already feel his emotions fast building up, they'll eventually become uncontrollable without medication. All it takes is for an event to throw him off course, and his entire mindset changes. His whole overall mood plummets and spirals out of control. Dan knows that a large part of his mood are the disorders, but after all... it's his thoughts, his emotions. His fault. His mistake. He's a mess, and that's nobody's fault but his own. Fuck the disorders, they're just a diagnosis on a piece of paper. Dan Howell is an emotional wreck, a complete mess- a failure. Maybe he was happy for a short while, maybe that wasn't fake, but he knows the truth. After all, he will always be as he used to be. A heart so shattered can never be the same again. And Dan can't fool himself any longer.

Suddenly Dan's eyes open as he hears one of the children scream with laughter, but they hook onto one thing driving along the road. A small, white car. He knows that car. He knows who it belongs to.

Phil.

*Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter, good and bad I don't mind! I just really need feedback right now 😂 I won't give up of course, I love writing this, but I'm struggling on my style of writing and I feel as if I'm letting you guys down... I honestly don't mind bad feedback! I just want to be able to feel happy with my writing! 😂 Thank you*