summary: Phil felt like he was going to throw up, because he really didn’t like this. His head was spinning, probably not helped by the painkillers in his veins and the blood loss from just a few hours earlier. He could die trying for Dan’s second chance at life, or he could just walk away and put up with the loss like any other human being would have to.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was self-destructive.
He knew he would regret it for the rest of his life if he missed this chance.
rating: mature
warnings for this chapter: warnings for this chapter: some elements of grieving? argument? not much today (also there’s a part where i used crazy sorta unreadable text for story-relevant reasons which will sort of make sense as we go along, i put the crazy text stuff in normal text too, in brackets just above for anyone who needs it!)
please note that major character death/coma/afterlife are themes throughout!!!
word count: 3190
;sdjfkhaklsdjhflajksd this is so late i posted it on ao3 ages ago and forgot to make the tumblr post for months im so sorry
anyways its been forever how r u i met dan and phil
Chapter 5: empty your sadness
Grubby unwashed tile reappeared under Phil’s scrambling fingers as fast as it had gone, leaving him grabbing at them blindly for any sense of stability. His stomach was in his chest, veins singing with adrenaline like he’d just gotten off of a roller coaster.
“Woah there, slow down!” Hands were on his shoulders, shoving him? Steadying him? Phil wasn’t sure, his vision still spinning in confused circles.
The fuzziness slowly left his eyes and mind, steadily refocusing until all he could see was black smoke and tanned skin.
On instinct he shoved away from it, yelping in surprise and trying to figure out what was going on.
He was still in the bathroom at the high school, Phil realized, piling annoyance on top of his disorientation as he managed to sidestep away from the being he now recognized as the demon Charon. He looked like Dan again, Phil realized, observing the coils of dark smoke curling towards the ceiling above them with wary eyes as he caught his breath.
“What the hell?” Phil finally gasped, adrenaline draining from his bloodstream and leaving him feeling weaker. “Why can’t I leave?”
Charon clicked his tongue. “You broke the rules, Phil! I told you to not do anything rash, didn’t I?”
Any patience Phil might have had left him instantly. “Why does it even matter? He isn’t my Dan, not the real one. God knows if you even did say that, it’s just a little bit difficult to remember game rules , ” He spat the words like they were poison on his tongue. “When you’ve just found out your best friend is dead.”
“Oh, but he is real! Everyone you meet is just as real as you are, Phil. And now you’ve gone and messed things up between you and Dan, made him all confused and…” The demon tilted his head to the right, contemplating, calculating. “Is that fear as well? Oh man, Phil, you’ve really screwed up. He’s not going to want to talk to you again anytime soon, if ever. As for the rules, what do you want from me? An instruction booklet? There’s no how-to-play manual in life, Phil.”
“But this isn’t life! This is hell and nothing I do here matters anyway because I’m leaving, and he’ll never have to be anywhere but here. I can just be one of those mysteries he’ll never figure out.”
Charon sighed loudly, the smoke around his eyes spun into winding spirals as if he was rolling his eyes. “Quit being so melodramatic. There’s a reason I chose to help you, Phil-”
“Oh, this is help , is it? Watching him die and making him hate me?”
“Making him hate you was your choice, Phil. Now, shut up, you don’t have time for arguing, as I keep reminding you. I gave this choice to you and Dan specifically because you two have something rare. Bonded souls are a real treasure to find, especially in this day and age. Souls destined to find each other in every universe, the most adverse circumstances, and stitch together for a very long time. Call it destiny if you want, even though that’s completely different as this is rare and not applicable to everyone- Whatever it takes to make you understand. The version of you native to this universe will come back, even if you never will, and he is going to expect that Dan is the same as he left him after school yesterday. Well, not that he’ll know he left at all. Luckily for you, in the last universe there was no one to set things right with, and in that case it was okay. Dan was going to die there anyways, and it wasn’t your fault. Here, however, you’ve met Dan quite recently, he’s only known you a couple of months. If you get into an argument now… You need to get him to forgive you, and please, don’t be as messy in the next universe. You won’t be able to leave until you fix this, and I have no desire to go cleaning up your messes.
“Now, you should be in the… gym? You have as long as it takes to get him understanding and forgiving, Phil. Good luck. Oh, and I’ll see what I can do about those game rules, eh?”
Charon started to fade not a moment after his final words had been spoken, leaving Phil attempting to grab onto him, keep him in place somehow, shouting wordless cries of anger and frustration at the thin air left behind.
He was alone in a grungy public school bathroom decorated with etched-in graffiti once more.
0~0~0
“I have to pay for it?”
“25 cents for a top and shorts,” replied the bored-looking elderly gym teacher. “Cough up or it counts against your grade.”
“But I don’t have any money!”
“Sucks to be you. You could see if anyone is willing to pay for you, but I honestly doubt it, teenagers are always broke.”
Phil sighed, turning on his heel and walking out of the gym uniform loan office, where he had been directed previously by another tired, underpaid teacher. Oh well, it wasn’t like it was really his grade, anyway, nor did it have anything to do with Dan. He rounded the corner into the actual locker room once more, eyes on the ground to avoid needing to speak with anyone. He soon realized what a terrible idea this was, that he should have been watching where he was going instead as he bumped straight into one of the many guys in the room getting dressed. Phil stuttered out a quick apology as the intimidating-looking guy glared at him, forgetting how intimidating he looked himself. (he had caught a better glance of himself in the bathroom. The piercings were intense, and he had an actual dragon tattooed on his neck, like in the punk edits video he had made with Dan what seemed like years ago.) Suddenly, he spotted Dan across the room, who eyed him strangely before turning and making a beeline straight for him.
“We need to talk,” Dan said immediately. His shoulders were square, but Phil had known him long enough to see the tremors in his hands as well as his confident posture. “Wanna skip?”
Phil nodded immediately, silently glad Dan had approached him first.
“We’ll take your car, I walked this morning.”
“Sounds good,” Phil replied, following Dan and feeling a bit like a lost baby duck trailing after its mother as they left though the back door into the parking lot.
Phil fished his keys from his backpack, momentarily freezing up when he realized the steering wheel was on the left side. America. There was no way he could drive like that!
Thankfully, Dan didn’t seem to notice his panic, as he was avoiding Phil’s gaze intently when he suddenly asked “Can I drive?”
Phil tossed him the keys without a second thought, ducking into the passenger’s seat and buckling up.
“Where’re we going?”
“My place-my parents shouldn’t be home until at least 4.”
“Alright,” Phil answered.
Dan didn’t respond, starting the car and resting both hands on the wheel. He stared straight ahead for a moment, before sighing deeply and pulling out of the parking lot.
The rest of the drive was silent, as they passed through suburban street after suburban street. Phil stared out the passenger side window, watching the trees and houses and white picket fences pass absently. He briefly wondered what might have caused Dan’s sudden change of heart, and what he might say to convince Dan to forgive him. What had he even done in the first place? Something to do with hanging out with someone or several someones that Dan didn’t like, he recalled from their confrontation in the hall. He could say he didn’t know that Dan didn’t like them, or maybe that it was all a big misunderstanding and Phil didn’t like them either- but he didn’t know that for certain. Phil frowned, feeling a sort of sinking in his chest that was all too familiar in situations in which he had no idea what to do. However, this was different from forgetting all of an artist’s songs as he stepped up to interview them at an awards show- he didn’t have Dan to back him up this time.
He hated it. Hated this deal with Charon, hated the situation he was in now with this Dan, hated himself, a bit, for getting himself into this mess. He imagined someone telling him that he could choose again, between letting Dan die and this universe-jumping freak show. Immediately, he would want to go home, to give up- but almost instantly after thinking that, he felt guilty. Giving up wasn’t something he did easily, not even in ridiculous situations like this. No, he would stay, if given the choice.
The soft hum of the car’s engine in the background faded out, jolting Phil out of his thoughts. He had an apology to make.
Dan was first to get out of the car, not even looking back at Phil as he made his way up to the house and unlocked the door.
Phil followed a bit reluctantly, making his way over the house’s threshold and gazing at the many family portraits hung up along the hall like a collage. They were just like the ones at Dan’s family’s house back in his universe. The carpeted stairs creaked under his feet, breaking the eerie silence that blanketed the house as he followed Dan up to his room, in a way that almost made him feel like he was in a horror movie, for some reason.
Phil was not, however, in a horror movie, so he made it up to Dan’s room perfectly intact. Dan had dumped his backpack down next to a large wooden desk, immediately collapsing in the spinny chair that sat beside it. He spun aimlessly, before turning and settling in Phil’s direction.
Phil took in the massive band posters decorating every wall as he dropped his own bag at the foot of Dan’s bed. Though Phil hadn’t known Dan at 16, the room as just what he would have expected it to be: brown walls, a TV in one corner and a massive stack of CDs and DVDs next to it. He could feel Dan still staring at him, so he dropped into a beanbag next to the TV, finally meeting Dan’s eyes.
“What changed about you?’ Dan asked suddenly, words coming quickly, like a waterfall he couldn’t stop. “I know something did. You’re pretending you don’t know what you did, when we just talked about it yesterday. You let me drive your car. You’re acting like you’ve never been to my house before, you didn’t even ask about snacks or try to race me up the stairs like you always do. You didn’t sass the teacher, you thought I was going to hurt you, and for the sake of taking one thing at a time, I won’t even start on that… meltdown thing in the hall earlier.”
Phil paused, weighing his options. Would he have to stay here longer if he lied to Dan? He’d have to ask later. For now, the truth, or, at least most of it, would have to do. “You really aren’t going to believe me, I-”
“Try me.” Dan’s words were firm and glare cold.
Phil saw a shadow move in the corner of his eye, nearly scaring him out of his skin until the shadow slowly solidified into a figure- Charon. It wasn’t much more comforting than the sentient shadow, but at least it was something familiar to him. The monster nodded slowly, as if urging Phil on.
Phil sighed. “You’re right. I did change, quite a lot. I’m not-” he paused, choosing his words carefully. “-really the same.” Pause. “I’m about to say some pretty weird stuff, but try not to interrupt me so I can just get through it, alright?” It was a tactic they often used on the rare occasions that they argued, taking turns talking for long uninterrupted periods of time before getting a response.
Dan nodded mutely in agreement, though questions burned bright in his eyes.
“I’m not really… the same Phil you know.” Dan was already opening his mouth to interrupt, but Phil held up a hand. “Wait. I’m different, yeah, but right now I need you to to trust me. I am Phil, but one from a different universe.”
It sounded profoundly stupid even to his own ears, but he pressed on. “I need to tell you that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being an idiot about whatever I did wrong, because I know I would never intentionally hurt you and it was probably an accident- but I’m still sorry anyways. I’m sorry for getting you involved in my weird alternate universe crap, for trying to argue with you about things I don’t understand, really, I am sorry. The thing is, I really need you to forgive me.”
The room was silent. From somewhere further inside the house, an old clock chimed out the hour, and Dan stood up. He moved to the window, opening the blinds a bit more, and sunlight poured in across his face, lighting up his eyes like fire. Phil found himself staring, marvelling in the way Dan seemed to almost glow. It was the sort of sunlight that comes just before sunset- not yet burning orange, but subtly warmer. Dan still wasn’t looking at Phil.
“I just- You’re so ridiculous, I can’t-”
“Please.”
Dan turned to face him, finally. “I guess I can forgive you for being a complete dick, since you’ve obviously gone completely insane, so I guess that’s a reason. I really just don’t know what to say.”
Phil glanced over to Charon, who sighed and threw up his hands in a ‘fine, whatever’ sort of gesture.
“Thanks, Dan. Uh…” Phil didn’t really have an excuse for leaving, but it didn’t really matter, did it? He just needed to get out of sight for a moment, as Dan seeing him leave would probably be another screw up on his part. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”
Dan looked confused, but responded anyways. “Second door on the right. I’m not done, you know, don’t try to walk out on me.”
Phil all but bolted out of the room, only allowing himself a moment to feel guilty before quickly closing himself inside the bathroom.
“God, what is it with you and bathrooms today? Charon asked, appearing next to him and making him jump.
“You need to stop doing that.”
“Nah. Ready to go?”
“Are you going to show up every time I leave someplace?”
“Only if you screw up again.”
“Fair enough.”
And this time, Phil didn’t come back.
0̈~͔̤͍̫̦̺̩̔̓ͦ0̗̹͇͉̜̾̂~̳̠ͭ̀̈́͑ͯ͐̚0̂ͥ̅҉̹̙̼̺̳
[first sentence in normal text for anyone who needs it: (line break) PJ sat with his head in his hands on the sofa bed.]
P̗̟̬̬̖̮̅̾̕J͇ͦͩ̄ͧ̓̀ ̦̳̒́̑̔͋s̘̠̎ͤ̈́͝a̛̺͇͇̦̭ͮt̜̠͇̩̼̓̃ͫ̃̉ͫ̀ ̱͉͈͋͡w̰̹̭̣̘̼̐͋͟i̢̍͒ͮ̔t̛͋̔hͥͥ̅͑ ̆̉ͩ͗̚ĥ͐̄͏is̾ͫ ́̆̄ͤ̃hĕͤ̈ͭ̀̔̃ǎͥ͗̄ͭ͑̑dͫ̅̓̕ ̌͂ͯ̄͗̾ͯin̒̄ his hands on the sofa bed. Phil hadn’t come out of Dan’s room since Dan had…
Nevermind. It was definitely best to leave him for now. He deserved this time, to at least try to process what had happened before it all inevitably went to hell again.
He suddenly felt itchy all over, like he couldn’t possibly sit still for another moment. Standing up as quick as lightning, he began to pace back and forth across the office. None of it seemed real. Phil didn’t remember a thing, Dan was dead, the alternate universes- PJ needed to think, to write. He tore down the stairs like a madman, thinking that in all their boxes of miscellaneous supplies they must have a notebook or paper of some sort somewhere .
The lounge was generally a trainwreck, of weapons and bloodstains and containers with their contents strewn across the floor, only the table was bare and clean. He had scrubbed it clear of blood yesterday, in his numbing, grief-filled haze as Phil- the other Phil, that is- sat on a chair and stared off into space, knees hugged to his chest. PJ had left to get another rag from the kitchen at some point, and thought he heard Phil talking to someone back in the lounge, but when he returned, Phil was gone.
The lingering bit of PJ that remained from before the infection had wreaked havoc across the world whispers that he could make this all into a story, if he tried. That was how he worked, turning thoughts into monsters and creating worlds where they could be less scary- at home, even, He didn’t have much time for writing nowadays, and this world felt so unreal sometimes he imagined he was merely existing in someone else’s plot, enough for him to not feel any need to write up his own story.
But this, this was the opposite feeling- too real. The loss and loneliness gripped at him and demanded his full attention. PJ knelt down on the floor now, his searching hands turning over piles of junk as if on autopilot, half-forgetting what he was looking for in the first place.
There was a crumpled sheet of notebook paper, from one of those flimsy, palm-sized notepads you could get for a pound underneath the grey armchair, He fished it out, pressing and smoothing the bent edges down into the floor to read it.
- Only one Dan will be able to remember me
- 2 months only!!
- Universe from story? what sort of story
- Demon might leave clues- keep him happy
- Can do anything to make him remember
- consequences?
- Die in another universe die in real one
The handwriting was Phil’s, and PJ would bet just about anything that the scrap of paper didn’t belong to the version of his friend currently upstairs. What did this mean, though? The numbered list was vague, and it didn’t seem like it was all there. Keep the demon happy? ‘Consequences?’
And was that a Matrix reference at the end?
There were footsteps behind him, ones he probably wouldn’t have heard without these past years of fearing for his life as he had. Even though it was probably just Phil, returning back downstairs for food or water, his entire body tensed up like a deer in the headlights- or perhaps a cobra readying itself to strike. PJ whipped around faster than he imagined he could-
The footsteps were not Phil’s.
The woman that approached him now was probably shorter than average, but given her position standing above PJ, honey brown curls fanned out around her head almost as if defying gravity, she seemed so much bigger. He recognized her, from a long, long time ago, up until she twitched slightly, eyes fluttering shut to reopen black as coal, the hazel irises that had once been there might as well have been burnt to ash, complete with smoothly rolling coils of smoke curling around her kind face. She knelt down to his level, reaching out and snatching away Phil’s list.
“I’ll be needing that,” she said in a voice like honey, before dissipating into mist.
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