Alternate (Phan)

22*Two months earlier

Dan

I sat up inside of the tent, feeling Phil's body radiate heat from underneath the covers. I smiled, holding myself up right next to him. My hand gently placed itself against his cheek, stroking my finger against his face as I planted a kiss on his forehead.

'I love you.' I whispered, before turning to Ev and shuffling him over into my arms.

'I love you, too.' my head quickly turned towards Phil, whom was still facing away from me.

'Why are you up?' I questioned, shuffling backwards on the bed mats with Ev firmly cradled against my chest. Phil heaved himself onto his back, clearly still being dragged down by the weight of sleep.

'I felt you moving,' he smiled at me, taking my hand in his, 'What are you doing up?' I chuckled, checking the time again, which seemed to be slowly moving from 4am.

'I just woke up, not sure why.' I smiled back, gently rocking Ev up and down in my arms.

'As long as you're safe and alright?' Phil asked. I turned to face him again, nodding as I felt my fringe fall in front of my eye. He reached up to tuck it back behind my ear, staring intensely into my eyes as he did so.

'Promise you, I'm fine. Just a night owl.' I chuckled a bit, looking back down towards the baby.

'Ahbubuh.' he gently mumbled from his sleep, opening his eyes carefully. I watched his little toes spread out from each other, then relaxing again as his body went limp.

'Abuba.' Phil giggled back, sitting upwards and holding his hand in his fingers. The two looked so out of sync, the miniature-sized human seemingly impossible to grow to the size of Phil. Ev looked towards Phil, puffing his cheeks outwards and giggling. I took a deep breath, admiring the two of them.

I placed Ev on his belly on the bed mats, lying on my side next to him, making sure he was safe. He still couldn't lift his entire body, but he seemed quite happy flopping and waving his limbs in bizarre manoeuvres across himself.

The night was quiet. The wind was hushed into nothing but a mere breeze and there were no scurries of wild animals across the concrete pavements, darting from one place to another. I'd imagine stars spread across the top of the polyester tent, echoing the calmness from within its sheets of material. I scooped Ev back into my arms, letting him onto his back into his nest, taking note of the two white dots forming in his gums and how that made the last few nights' sleepless hours make sense. My body shifted over Phil, leaning onto him and cradling myself against his topless body. His hand grazed along my spine, sending warm shivers across my body. I sighed, wrapping my arm around his waist and turning to look into his eyes, which were already staring intensely at me.

We had no words to say, no inside jokes or sarcastic remarks with the other, no chuckles into nothing or unintended innuendos. It was just the three of us, enclosed into fabric and protecting us from everything outside; the rest of our lives, for one. But for now, it was just us that mattered. Phil's eyes of an array of oceanic colours washing into my own brown pits. Not the most articulate way of describing my own orbs, but unlike Phil's, I didn't spend hours of each day analysing every millionth of a millimetre, allowing me to form hundreds of words to just a few colours. Ev's eyes stared directly upwards, almost as if he was staring at the stars above. Which however, was impossible, since there was metres worth of brickwork and fabric separating the child from the heavens; as well as two dorky dads who'd go to the lengths of the universe to protect him.

I hope he knows that. That despite him not genetically being mine and how I was non-existent to his life until a few months in, I would go to the ends of the universes to protect him. That's even if there are ends to the universes, if not, it only gives a more accurate representation of my soul's protection over him. I hope he knows that, despite every misfortune that may come our way and the risks that inevitably lie in his future, I will always choose to be there with him and pass him through life's troubles on my shoulders, his little hands encapsulated in my own. I hope he knows that, whatever shit he goes through, puts himself through or feels, I would take it onto myself if it meant that he was happy and enjoying this crappy world to as much extent as humanly impossible. I wonder how it's possible for me to feel so strongly towards him, when he isn't bound to me with our similarities in DNA and when I've known him little over a month and a half. I can't imagine the devastation Phil felt when he lost his first, while knowing this is how a parent can feel to their child. Does Phil feel more strongly attached to Ev than me, being his biological father, or is it just the same? Are our protection needs over him just as strongly shared with him as it is each other?

I remember when I was a teenager, shit not even two months ago, in all fairness, and how when my parents were around. I always thought I meant nothing and was nothing but a mere burden and pressure on them, another thing to stress them out. The way I look at Ev, and the glances I exchange with Phil, I only know now that they did truly love me, and that this nurturing-desire I have over Ev, is just the same as they felt towards me. Now I just feel shit, knowing the pain and betrayal I would feel if Ev pulled a gun out on me as I did so to my parents.

I can hold a gun and see one, but as soon as the finger of any person presses towards the trigger, it's as if a wave of guilt, panic and hatred towards myself flood into my body and immobilise me; drowning myself in my own feelings. I feel ashamed about this, not because I feel emasculated by not being able to handle a death-machine properly or that I feel weak, but because I experience this sense of drowning, but not because of my own experience I had with my family. I didn't shoot any of them, the three wonders who I miss, but I did press the metal barrel against the side of the head of the woman who gifted me life. Then I ran and joined the sub mil, tricked into their inhumane and unjust slavery. In fact, I was gripping guns in my palms for years after that event. I wounded a few people with bullets, all of whom I know survived, but there are three faces I shan't ever forgive myself for.

A family of three, just like Phil, Ev and I. Mother, father and son, stood in the doorway as the team I was in sped into their house and ransacked everything they'd ever known to live for. I had one command and one command only: shoot if they attempt to run. They did. Now they're dead. I try to excuse myself by saying that I was commanded to, that my natural instincts led me to obey my command and that I was fearing death, which would have very much been the end of me if I'd disobeyed my order. But now I know my singular life should have never had over-rode the importance of those three individual lives. However, I also know that if I hadn't shot them, not only would I be sentenced to execution, but those three wouldn't have got far and fate had them to die that day. But I still hold myself on to the thought that maybe, maybe they would have escaped. Maybe they'd still be alive. Maybe not, but I shouldn't have ever decided that. I'm no God, and I'm certainly not worthy at any point.

I sighed, watching Phil's breathing even out as he returned to sleep. I huddled my own body onto the mat against his, lying down and staring at his stomach falling and rising.

Not rising and falling, because I've already fallen. I've hit the bottom and suffered from the wounds of collapsing so violently. One positive side to hitting the depths of hell itself: you can only rise.

So that's what I shall do.