A breeze picks up and Dan can feel his chest tighten.
Watching the sky, the stars seem far away and impossible. Grey clouds casting shadows on everything, the rain pounding hard against his shoulders. Memories come back; the first time meeting.
His eyes were bright, Phil’s. Blue and sparkling and happy, and that’s all Dan ever wanted to be. He was finally meeting Phil, he was real and alive and hugging Dan and he was sure he was dreaming. Months of talking, late night Skype conversations, all leading up to that moment.
The little things hurt him the most, though. All the stupid videos they made, the days they used to share on the radio. Far away and impossible.
There are things that he wishes he told him. So many things, so little time, and he wasted the time he had. His hair’s plastered to his forehead, his clothes sticking to his skin and the tears are evident. He wishes he attended when everyone else did, rather than going alone because now he knows how weak he is. How dependent of Phil he is — was. Was. He’s got to get used to that.
Finally moving from his spot and facing him for the first time all over again, he breaks.
Falling to his knees in front of the wet tombstone, he screams out. He’s shaking and crying and his safety net is missing and never coming back. Phil’s never coming back.
Phil didn’t deserve to go like that. At the mercy of a blade that he’d been trying so hard to avoid. He’d trade places with him in a heartbeat, because he was his best friend and he didn’t deserve any of it.
Dan never fully grasped the fact that he was gone. Permanent and irreversible. He considers talking to him, but he can barely speak. Loose soil clutching to his clothes, the though that Phil’s buried deep beneath him scares the hell out of him. Phil, who he could always talk to, the only person who listened, the shoulder he could cry on, gone. Forever. Never coming back.
Phil is far away and impossible all over again. The only difference is that he’s unable to answer his calls for help when he’s contemplating the same fate that Phil hurled himself into.
Maybe talking isn’t such a bad idea.
Every inch of his skin is soaked as he moves forward and sits beside the grave.
"Phil," he whispers, “I…"
The tears start again and he can’t stop them, no matter how hard he tries. But it’s dark and he’s alone — not really, just him and the memories of Phil.
Sniffling, he attempts to speak again. “Remember when we won the Golden Headphones? You were so proud.” he closes his eyes and smiles a bit, but when he looks over and Phil isn’t sitting there with his dark hair and pale skin, he covers his face with his hands.
"Why?" he whispers into the air, “You said you were happy. You should have told me and I could’ve helped. But you were always so happy. Was it for me?” he went on and on, making himself feel worse as time drags on.
"Do you know how I felt when I had to tell the fans? They were worried about you. They loved you. They asked, ‘Phil hasn’t uploaded in two weeks, is he alright? His twitter hasn’t been updated for a long time, what can we do?’ Having to tell all those people that you were dead," his voice cracks, “Was too much. They cried. Hell, they’re still crying, two and a half weeks later.
"You know, yesterday was the first time I was in your bedroom since…" he trails off for a few seconds, “It smelled like you. Everything. Lion was still on your bed, I hope you don’t mind that he’s gonna stay in my room for a while. You two must’ve been close." he ends with a joking tone that falls into another heart-shattering sob.
The rain pours down harder and Dan brings his knees close to his chest.
Trying to gain control of himself again, to no avail, he just let himself talk.
"I miss y-you. I’m sorry, please come back," he whispers through the tears.
He stays with Phil until he was almost too tired to walk, feeling worn out and exhausted.
As he leaves, he can’t help but think that he’s leaving Phil behind.
And in that moment, Dan’s alone again.
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