SUNSHINE | PHAN

one hundred seventeen

it was so incredibly dark. it was so dark that the lack of light burned at the back of phil's eyelids like a reminder of how hopeless he felt, how terrified for his life he was. and something smelled really bad.

he heard a scratching sound to his right and his whole body reacted, jolting in its direction. "who's there?"

no one responded. as much as he wanted to, he didn't open his eyes, and he didn't look to the beautiful reassurance of his phone screen for comfort. he followed dan's instructions. he didn't have any choice.

he had to trust him.

something touched his hand and he whimpered subconsciously, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter and trembling. it was a hand... someone had their hand on his, their fingers wrapping around his thumb.

"d-dan?" phil breathed, finding it almost impossible to even force the words to leave his lips.

"shh," a voice hushed him, a semi-familiar one. "it's okay."

"is it you?" phil asked, even though he was fairly certain now that it was. he didn't trust anything anymore.

two thin arms wrapped around his neck and phil crumbled into the embrace like he'd been merely holding himself together with pieces of scotch tape until then. he sobbed into his chest weakly, his energy utterly drained.

"we need to get out of here," dan whispered reluctantly, clearly not wanting to push him when he was so fragile.

phil's heart skipped a beat. maybe it wasn't hopeless... he was so tired, he'd do anything in the world to climb into his own bed and fall asleep, dead to everything but his mind.

phil opened his eyes. it wasn't as dark as he remembered. in fact, he could make out dan's outline in the dim blackness of the square room.

he was looking at him.

"i told you not to look."

his voice was a lot less kind than it had been seconds before. phil winced. "oh, i'm sorry, i thought-"

he had something in his other hand, the hand that hadn't been touching phil's. it was long and it glinted in the darkness. phil's heart sunk to his stomach, too scared to move an inch.

"wh..." he trailed off. dan followed his gaze to the knife clutched in his left hand. he laughed.

"oh, don't be scared. this isn't for you." he sighed, and for a split second phil saw fear flash in his eyes before it was gone. "there's something i need to ask of you. it's the only way we'll get out, okay?"

dread hung over phil like a heavy rain cloud. his stomach churned in terror and anticipation.

"i..."

dan pressed the handle of the kitchen knife into phil's shaky palm, closing his fingers around it. he cupped phil's hand in his almost tenderly, meeting his eyes.

his eyes weren't fearful anymore. he grinned, showing his teeth.

"rip my fucking heart out, phil lester."