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no angels

“no, there’s no angels but yes there is love”

summary; dan and phil are detectives investigating the ongoing murders of citizens throughout london

authors; @blissphil and @danthrusts

beta; @celestialhowell ((thank u kate bless ur heart and Soul))

word count; 27k

warnings; murder, death, alcohol, vivid descriptions of violence, blood, swearing, pda, fire, implications of sex, major character death, implications of suicide

a/n;

lindsboop says: lowkey jack the ripper

mandoodle says: i believe most of the murder-y parts can be skipped if they’re too much for you. it can still be understood, for the most part, if you skip them.

title is from savannah brown’s no angels

excerpt;

“Phil, seriously man, what’s going on?” Dan questioned, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, as they headed back to the headquarters. He glanced over at a silent Phil, his eyes glued to the window.

“Hmm?” Phil glanced at Dan briefly before looking out the window. “Nothing,” Phil answered and shook his head.

“Okay,” Dan replied, pursing his lips together into a firm line. He reached forward and turned the music up. He hummed and tapped his fingers along to the rhythm of the song. Phil tugged his lip between his teeth as he watched the cars pass. He realized that they were, in fact, parked in an empty parking lot. “Okay,” Dan repeated and turned towards Phil.

“Why are we in an empty parking lot?” Phil scratched the back of his neck and curiously glanced at Dan.

“We’re gonna talk.” Dan affirmed and turned the engine off, not permitting Phil to leave until they finished talking.

“Why?” Phil questioned and leaned back into the car seat, his eyes staying on the side window.

“I think you need it,” Dan turned down the radio.

read on ao3

Detective Bureau of London

***Suspect #12***

Name: Charles Quentin Alias: N/A Sex: Male Birthday: 14 April 1989 Crime: Murder of Linda Procker Height: 180 cm Weight: 174 lbs Hair: Brown Eyes: Hazel Comp: Fair Date of Arrest: 13 November 2015 Officer of arrest: York, James Comments: Resistant, claims falsely accused

“I’m telling you, I didn’t do it!” the suspect, Charles Quentin, shouted at the two interrogators as he resisted the handcuffs binding his wrists together.

“We aren’t saying you committed the murder of Linda Procker. We’re just saying there is a possibility--”

“I didn’t do it,” the man repeated, now red in the face as he interrupted the detective in front of him. Dan Howell, Phil’s partner in investigating crime as well as good friend, shot a look at Phil as if to say Can you believe this guy? He is definitely guilty.

“Where were you on the 10th of November at 10:30 P.M.?” Dan placed his palms on the desk in front of him and leaned forward.

“At home getting ready for bed, I believe,” Charles answered calmly, as if he had already thought this out.

“You believe?” Phil questioned and raised a brow at the man before him. He folded his arms across his chest. “You either know where you were or you don’t know where you were.” Charles sat straighter in his chair, glancing at each detective before he slouched back and swiftly rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t kill that girl alright? I was at home playing my video games. Black Ops III just came out,” Charles responded, almost pleadingly. “The graphics are insane .”

“Have you got any friends that could prove that you were online that night?” Dan questioned the man as he tapped his fingers on the desk.

“No, I was playing with strangers online,” Charles answered, pressing his lips together into a straight line.

“Your gamer tag appears on the screen when a friend is online, is that not correct?” Dan tapped his fingers on the desk impatiently as Charles remained silent. “ Is that not correct? ” he repeated himself.

Charles swallowed thickly. “I think that is correct, sir.”

“Charles, how long have you been a player of video games?” Phil questioned smoothly and tapped his pen on the notepad in front of him.

“I’m not sure, sir,” Charles answered as he kept his eyes on the wall behind the investigators. Phil scribbled the information onto the pad of paper. Charles shifted slightly as Phil underlined a part of his writing.

“Nervous, Charles?” Dan nodded at his gripped hands and raised a brow at the man.

The suspect tightened his jaw. “Why would I be?” he chuckled nervously. “It’s not as if you’re trying to convict me on an innocent woman’s murder.”

“How did you know she was innocent?”

“I didn’t -- I mean I just assumed…” Charles quickly tried to cover up his mistake.

“Did you know that nervous actions tend to show that a person is being untruthful?” Phil muttered as he relaxed into his chair.

“Did you know nervous actions tend to show when someone is being suspected of a murder they didn’t do?” Charles retorted.

“Why would someone be nervous of a crime they didn’t commit?” Dan fired back quickly.

Charles didn’t say anything. He locked his jaw into place and shifted his eyes toward the desk where he was sat. Phil scribbled frantically on the notepad, recording every detail of the interrogation.

“I think we’re finished for today.” Dan clasped his hands together and turned toward Phil. “Keep an eye on him; I’ll get an officer.” Dan exited the interrogation room, leaving Phil and the suspect alone.

“So,” Phil smacked his lips together as he lowered his pen and notepad, “Why’d you kill her? Did you like the screaming? The blood? The look of fear in her eyes as you ran the blade lightly against her throat?”

“You’re insane!” Charles responded with a crack in his voice.

“Did you like the way the light left her eyes, Charles?”

“What? You’re mad! You’re absolutely mad!” Charles’ voice strained as he shouted at the detective.

The door swung open. In came Dan and an officer. “Is everything alright in here?”

“He’s deranged!” Charles struggled against the handcuffs as the officer stood him up from his seat. “Him and that damn girl!”

Phil smiled and sent a look towards Dan, we’ve got him . Dan pressed his lips together and looked from Charles to Phil.

“Everything is just fine.”

14 November 2015 -- 2:38 A.M.

The man’s dark eyes drifted from victim to victim. His fingers twitched with the excitement of a future bloodspill on the London streets, his heart racing against his chest as he laid his eyes on the perfect subject: an intoxicated woman with frizzy red hair stumbling out of the pub before him. She had almost fallen over twice in just the minute he’d been watching her. Perfect.

“Excuse me, Miss,” He lifted his dark hood from his head to reveal a head full of blond hair. “are you okay?” He reached a black leather glove out to the woman to help steady her balance. “Do you need someone to take you to your flat? I can call an Uber--” A perfect American accent flowed through the man’s lips.

“My flat is close,” she slurred. Her eyes shifted to the killer’s face, a smile spread over her swollen lips. “You’re really pretty. You can walk me home.” The woman took ahold of his hand and giggled, giving the guy a sloppy wink. “You can even go bed with me.”

His eyes grew in size. “Okay, let’s get you home.” He raised his voice slightly in case anyone may be listening to their conversation. “Which way?”

“Any way you want to go, baby.” The girl doubled over in snorts of laughter at her own joke. The man slightly chuckled and grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the pub. “How did you know this was the way to my flat?” the redhead asked after she had calmed down from her joke. Her words slurred together as she said them.

“Lucky guess,” he replied, full-well knowing that there was a dark alley this way that would be the best place to commit the crime.

The man walked quickly, eager for the bloodshed of his victim. She tried to keep up; her heels clicked against the pavement making for unnecessary noise they didn’t need. “Are those comfortable?” the man asked, signalling to her high-heels.

“Oh no, not at all.” she replied, glancing down at her feet -- they were as red as her hair. Her face lit up as if she had gotten an idea. “I’ll just take them off.” She kicked the heels off of her feet and wiggled her painted toes. She sighed in relief as she bent down to pick the shoes up.

It was almost too easy. The man glanced up from the woman and eyed the alley they were nearing; the knife hidden on him seemed to burn with want.

“Would you mind if we stop for a minute up ahead so I can text my flatmate that I’ll be late?” The man questioned as the women stumbled once more.

“That’d be fine,” the woman slurred and leaned up against the man. The man quickened their pace to the alley and halted when they arrived in front of it.

“You can wait here if you’d like, I’ve no reception on my phone here,” The man muttered and ventured into the alley, the woman following behind him easily.

“I’ll just come with you, it’s safer,” she noted and the man almost let out his laugh, almost . As the man walked, he snaked his gloved hand into his padded pockets and slid out the silver knife.

“People are crazy nowadays, aren’t they?” The man commented and turned around keeping the knife hidden from sight. The women nodded with a snort and made the mistake of walking ahead of the man. “I’m real sorry for this,” he added.

The man leaned over the shoulder of the woman and let his breath land on her neck, distracting her from any second thoughts. He draped his arms around her torso and traced the side of her neck; the woman tilted her head back to look at him with want in her eyes. The man grinned once and quickly dragged the knife along the opposite side of her neck, his gloved hand already covering her screams. He let her body drop to the ground, the scent of blood filling his nose as he leaned down and studied the wound. He had nearly decapitated the woman. He cleaned the blood from the knife with the woman’s frizzy curls before he hid the knife once more. The man glanced at her fallen heels with a sick grin and grabbed one before lodging it deeply into the wound.

The man pulled a few strands of hair from his blond wig and carefully placed them around the woman’s lifeless body. Then, he stood over and studied the bloody body and left the scene.

It was a shame that Phil didn’t even get to know her name.

Dan set the box of doughnuts on the table and sighed. “How was your night?” he asked Phil as he opened the box. Dan’s hand hovered over the dozen doughnuts hesitantly as he tried to decide which one to choose. He picked the most basic one -- rainbow sprinkles and pink icing.

“It was pretty good, I guess--” Phil gripped his coffee cup tightly in one hand as he ran his eyes over each doughnut, trying to pick the best one in the box. “--watched some Buffy and relaxed. How was your night?”

“Long,” Dan answered shortly before taking a large bite of his sprinkled doughnut. “I’m so tired,” he said through a large mouthful.

“Isn’t everyone?”

“I’m afraid so.” Dan grinned as he set the treat onto a napkin. He reached for his coffee and took a long sip of the warm liquid.

A knocking sound came from the door followed by one of the interns sticking his head into the doorway. “Detective Howell, Detective Lester, I was told to inform you both to report to Amy Dickinson's office ASAP.” The intern’s voice shook nervously as he read the sticky note. He looked up from the pink sheet of paper for approval from the duo; they nodded their heads in unison signifying the intern could leave. The door shut behind him.

“Should we leave these here?” Dan asked, signifying to the dozen of doughnuts he brought in. “We have to be careful. We’re in a building full of cops -- they can practically smell these things from 100 kilometers away.”

“I think they’ll be fine, just lock the door.” Phil laughed as he picked up his doughnut from the table. He held the door open for Dan and headed to Amy’s office. Employees rushed around the building frantically as news rushed in. Dan looked at Phil with a shrug and headed towards Amy’s office quickly. As soon as they entered the room, Amy pulled up the crime case on the screen, pinning pictures and clues on the board next to it.

“Glad you two could finally make it,” Dickinson commented as she glanced around the room at the employees gathered around the office. “If you’ve not heard there’s been another murder in the streets of London. From the way the neck of the woman was cut, we’ve traced it to past murders that have replicated the killings of the famous Jack The Ripper; we may have a new generation of The Ripper upon us.” She unfolded her hands and adjusted her glasses as she flipped through the clipboard at her desk. Phil assumed it was the investigation plans. “I need Mr. Lester and Mr. Howell to attend the address I’ve sent you, along with, um, Jerny Walls and Chuck. We’re finding this killer now before the country goes into panic.” The duo glanced at the address on their phones quickly, then looked at each other.

“I’ll drive,” Dan offered and tucked his phone into his back pocket before he led the way to the garage. Phil looked at the address once more and let out a deep breath as he followed his partner to the car.

The four detectives piled into the car and typed the address into the GPS, Dan turning on the radio as they drove to the scene of the murder. Dan hummed along and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel to the Kanye West song.

“My favourite part of volunteering to drive is getting to choose the music.” He grinned, shifting his eyes to the rearview mirror to find Jerny and Chuck’s very bored faces.

“We all hate you,” Phil mumbled and looked out the window to hid his grin. Dan turned his head to glare at his partner before turning back to face the road.

“Well, I love you guys too,” Dan muttered and gripped the steering wheel as he turned onto the next street.

It wasn’t hard to tell where the murder took place as there were police cars, ambulances, police tape, and loads of curious people crowding around the area. The four detectives were just another additive to the scene.

They flashed their proofs of identity at the cops to get behind the yellow tape; they allowed them in to do their business.

“Red hair, curly, kind of frizzy,” Dan spoke into the voice recorder. “early to mid twenties, caucasian.” He pressed stop on the recorder and looked to Phil.

“Clever weapon,” he observed, signalling to the heel lodged in the woman’s throat. He knelt down next to her alongside Chuck. “It looks as though the suspect used some type of sharp object to slit her throat before the shoe was embedded into her neck.”

Phil knelt down and grabbed a glove, slowly peeling her mouth open to swab it before tucking the swab into its compartment. He grimaced. “She reeks of alcohol.”

“It makes sense,” Dan replied before repeating Phil’s observation into the recorder. Jerny studied the ground around the deceased woman with a magnifying glass. “Find anything?” Dan asked.

Jerny looked up with a sad sigh. “Not yet.” Dan shifted onto his other leg and squinted at an object on the ground that had caught the shine of the sun.

“Hold on, hand me a bag please.“ Dan called out, grabbing a clean glove from his back pocket; he picked the object up with the latex glove and held it in front of his face. “I think I’ve got a hair sample; blond and short.” He looked almost confused as he studied it between his fingers.

“We’ll run a DNA test when we get back to HQ.” Chuck took the sample from Dan and studied it with careful eyes, as if not to damage it. He laughed dryly. “How could they be stupid enough to leave their hair loose -- their real hair?”

“Who knows?” Phil shrugged as Chuck passed the bag to him. Phil placed the sample into their evidence bag.

“When you’re done passing around the piece of hair, don’t forget to bag the heel too. We may be lucky enough to get a sloppy job of fingerprints on it.” Walls reminded the boys absentmindedly as she continued her search for more possible evidence.

Phil bagged the heel while Dan rattled off more descriptive terms of the woman. He flicked her eyelid up with a gloved hand. “Brown eyes, freckles…”

Freckles? Phil didn’t even notice her freckles last night. He must have been too focused on where his weapon was and going in for the kill to notice small details like that. Dan glanced up at Phil and stood straight before speaking.

“Phil, are you feeling okay? You’re usually more into your job,” Dan noted and slid the recorder back into his pocket. Phil looked over at his partner and shrugged.

“Must be an off day, I suppose.” Phil looked down at the girl’s body once more before looking away.

“How about after work we have a few drinks or play some video games; make your day better?” Dan offered and crossed his arms over his chest.

Phil shrugged his shoulders and gave a slight smile to the younger detective. “Why not, I suppose.” Phil let out a breath before grinning. “I bet I could kick your arse in Mario Kart.”

“You don’t know what kind of a bet you’re making there, pal.” Dan challenged as he slid off his latex gloves, careful not to get anything on his skin. “It’s on,” he promised.

“You’re a damn cheater!” Phil argued as he lost another round of Mario Kart against Dan; he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Dan’s winning character on screen.

“I’ve told you since we first started working together that I kick arse in Mario Kart,” Dan insisted. “That’s been what, 4 or 5 years?”

“And yet you still have no boyfriend, I wonder why?” Phil retorted and rolled his eyes.

“Wow! Thank God for Phil’s great friendship.” Dan gasped and put a hand over his chest in awe. Phil grinned and tossed his remote at Dan’s chest, hitting him square on.

“You sarcastic little shit,” Phil mumbled.

“Yet you still work by my side,” Dan added and snapped his fingers at Phil.

“Only because I get doughnuts and coffee out of it.” Phil shrugged his shoulders with a grin; Dan’s face held mock defense.

“I’m never supplying you with doughnuts and coffee ever again.” Dan narrowed his eyes at the older boy and threw the remote back towards him. “Stop being an arse and try not to lose again.”

“I’ll stop losing when you stop winning.”

“Why would I stop winning?”

“I don’t know… it sounded smoother in my head.” Phil admitted as he gripped the controller and pressed start.

After fifteen games, a finished pizza, an empty bottle of wine, and a whole lot of bants, Phil finally won one of the rounds. “Ha!” he shouted, throwing down his controller.

“Wow, you finally won a game--” Dan let out an exaggerated yawn. “--good thing too because I thought I was going to roll over and die before it happened.”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“And why is that?” Dan asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Because then I wouldn’t be able to kick your arse again. Come on, let’s play another game.”

And so they did. And another one. And another one. And another one. And Phil didn’t win any of them.

“What happened to you kicking my arse?” Dan cleared his throat and looked away from the game.

“I got drunk and learned that I still suck while I am intoxicated.” Phil pouted and looked at the empty bottles of wine. “No more wine for me,” he mumbled.

Dan rose from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. He reappeared with a bottle of vodka and shot glasses. “You said no more wine, you never said no more vodka.” He gave a cheeky smile and set the glasses on the table in front of him.

“I really shouldn’t--”

“We’re off tomorrow anyway,” Dan reminded him. “and you can stay at mine tonight if you don’t want to go home drunk.” Phil thought about it for a moment before Dan added, “Plus, you can kick my arse at Mario Kart.”

That won him over.

After a while, the two abandoned the controllers and instead did shots on the sofa and talked about life.

“Hey Phil, do you remember when you first got this job, hm?” Dan questioned as he hung upside down on the couch, watching his hair fall off his forehead.

“I’m too tipsy to recall that, Howell.” Phil groaned and played with the buttons on the remote controls.

“Phil, you spoon. Try and remember?” Dan offered as he blew on his hair. The smell of alcohol hit him straight in the face.

“Okay,” He squinted his eyes and thought about it for a moment. “Vaguely.”

“Now, do you recall meeting me?” Dan added and crossed his eyes to look at Phil. Phil furrowed his brows and nodded his head.

“Yes, you were the cute intern at that point in time.” Phil shrugged nonchalantly and glanced at Dan. He squinted his eyes trying to recall other details. “You stood out from the other interns. You weren’t afraid to talk to the employees -- guess that’s why they hired you.” Phil’s words slurred together as he spoke. “Don’t know why they paired you with me, though.” he flashed a cheeky grin at the other boy.

“Amy knew. Amy knew we’d work well together.” Dan mumbled and pulled himself back onto the couch. “You were the good interrogator and I was the good detective,” he commented and ruffled his hair slightly.

“The duo.”

Dan beamed. “Yeah, the duo,” he agreed.

They each took another shot.

“Hey, you know what would be hilarious?” Dan laughed and tapped his fingers on Phil’s bare arm.

“What would be hilarious?”

“What if we made out? Like, right now,” Dan guffawed.

Phil shrugged his shoulders. “You want to?”

“Yeah,” Dan replied and turned his body toward his friend. Dan’s eyes followed Phil’s features as Phil leaned forward, connecting their lips in a sloppy drunken kiss. Dan’s hands traveled to Phil’s shoulders and rested as their lips collided together in sync. Dan tilted his head back, opening his mouth slightly, allowing Phil’s tongue an entrance. Phil’s hands explored Dan’s lower back. His fingers absentmindedly traveled up and down the fabric of the younger boy’s back as they kissed. Their teeth knocked together as the kiss became more intimate.

Dan began to lean back into the sofa, disconnecting their lips briefly, which allowed Phil to properly hover over him. He propped his elbows onto the cushions next to Dan’s head and connected their lips once more. His teeth found the younger boy’s bottom lip and tugged lightly on it, causing Dan to moan. Phil let out a breath out as he disconnected their lips and let them skim down Dan’s neck, his lips stopping every now and then to plant a wet kiss. Dan’s hand gripped Phil’s waist as the kisses became more harsh and needy.

“You’re so pretty,” Phil mumbled along Dan’s neck before he nudged his nose into the younger one’s.

“Shut up,” Dan squeaked, tugging gently on Phil’s lower lip.

“Someone’s getting embarrassed,” Phil commented as he watched pink flush Dan’s cheeks.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Waking up was never fun, but waking up when you’re hungover might as well have been Hell itself. It was miserable. Phil rolled over in the bed and let out a soft groan, stretching his arms above his head. He opened his eyes, squinting at the sun glaring in through the window, and suddenly realized that the window he was staring at was not in the right place, therefore not the window in his bedroom. He looked down to find that the duvet covering him was not his and a sleeping body next to him that turned out to be his best friend and detective partner, Dan Howell. Phil’s body froze as he saw Dan stir slightly; Phil quickly sat up and tugged at his hair nervously. He did not want to ruin the friendship he had with his partner--that would be crucial to his work life and social life.

“Well, shit,” Phil mumbled and slowly got out from the bed, trying not to stir the younger boy, and looked around the room for his clothes. He wasn’t going to leave his partner, but he sure as hell was going to get dressed to prevent any more awkward encounters. He found his clothes sprawled out along the floors of Dan’s apartment, as if they had begun undressing each other from the sofa all the way into his bedroom. Phil gathered his clothing and quickly slipped it back on before finding his way to the sofa.

Phil was quite hungry, but he didn’t bother making any food because it wasn’t his house and he didn’t know what he could take and what he couldn’t. Sure, he may have murdered people and made them beg for their lives, but at least he had the decency to ask for food before taking it. He decided that Dan wouldn’t miss a pot of coffee, though (especially when it was being made for him, too), so he brewed a pot of coffee for the two of them.

Phil leaned back on the counter as he tried to recall what the hell happened last night; he remembered the wine, of course, and the Mario Kart banter, but everything else was blurry to him. Phil sighed and looked around Dan’s kitchen cabinets for two mugs. He tried to keep calm hoping he hadn’t sacrificed their friendship.

“Oh -- I thought you’d left already.” Dan’s voice called out from behind Phil, surprised at his appearance. Phil turned around with a sheepish smile and motioned towards the coffee.

“I do have manners, you know?” Phil grabbed the mug of coffee and slid it across the counter towards Dan.

Dan ran his fingers through his messy bed-head with one hand and took the mug in his other. “Do you want anything to eat?” he asked the older boy. His voice sounded strange, as if he too were trying to avoid the awkward tension in the air. “Er-- sorry, I’m not used to having one night stands in the morning? People usually leave,” Dan mumbled and wrapped both hands around his coffee mug, his weight leaning on the back of his heels. Phil looked at Dan briefly, taking in his long sweater and Sonic boxers before he smiled sadly.

“I guarantee you that I won’t be as shallow as them,” Phil assured and furrowed his brows briefly. “So we--”

“--Yeah, we did,” Dan said softly, a nervous laugh following his words.

“You consented right? I don’t remember and I want to make sure it was consensual and--”

“Phil, I asked you to.” Dan laughed and placed his mug on the counter.

“Okay good,” Phil replied and let out a sharp sigh. He ran his fingers over the warm mug. “This isn’t going to make things awkward between us… right?”

Dan shook his head. “No, no, um, of course not.”

“Good.” Phil breathed a sigh of relief and sipped his coffee; he furrowed his eyebrows--it needed more sugar.

“Sugar is in the jar to the left of the coffee maker,” Dan said after he took another sip from his mug. “I get you coffee everyday; I’ve learned that you like sweeter coffee. Besides, with how long we’ve been working together, there aren’t many things I don’t know about you.”

“Thank you.” Phil smiled and added more sugar to his drink, stirring the spoon swiftly in the mug. He tested the coffee once more and decided it was now more to his liking.

“You’re welcome, Lester,” Dan mused and shuffled his feet towards the counter, wincing at the cold tiled floor. “So did you want breakfast or…?”

“Yeah, breakfast would be fantastic.”

“Is cereal okay?” Dan asked, holding up a big box of Shreddies as he made his way to the cupboard for bowls.

“Cereal would be lovely,” Phil replied, opening the fridge for milk. He grabbed it and placed it on the kitchen counter. Dan filled both of their bowls with cereal and milk

“So, do you wanna talk about it?” Phil coughed and screwed the lid back onto the milk jug.

Dan stared down at his bowl and shook his head. “No, not really.”

“Okay…” Phil trailed off. He spooned his cereal into his mouth as the two sat in silence, each waiting the other to further the conversation. Phil cleared his throat. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

Dan grunted and raised a curious brow. “Why would we?”

“We just--”

Dan cut him off. “I know.” He spooned the Shreddies into his mouth.

“Dan, I’m serious,” Phil said gently and leaned his shoulder onto the counter, leaning his weight onto it.

“I know ,” Dan repeated and mixed the milk around in his bowl. “but I also don’t know what to say.”

Phil nodded his head slightly. “Fair enough.” He looked down at the bowl in front of him and grinned slightly.

“Why’re you grinning, Lester?” Dan questioned with a brow raised, “You’re not insane, are you?”

Phil laughed. “Not entirely,” He set his spoon down and reached for his coffee mug. “There are just so many things to grin about.” He sipped at his coffee and frowned, realizing it’d gone slightly cold since he last tasted it.

“Name them.” Dan leaned forward, letting his elbows rest on the table.

Phil smirked. “Last night when you were beneath me moaning my name, for starters.” He winked playfully as he spooned more cereal into his mouth.

A hot blush spread over Dan’s face as his mouth dropped open in embarrassment. It quickly found it’s place as he clenched his mouth shut. With beet red skin he urged Phil to continue listing the things causing him to grin so widely.

“Shall I continue to see how red I can get your cheeks to go?” Phil teased and mixed his cereal slightly. Dan made a small embarrassed noise as he glared into his cereal. Phil’s eyes traveled to Dan as he hid behind his cereal. “I will take that as a yes.” He continued on. “Do you know how horny you are when you’re drunk? I mean Jesus, Dan, it’s like you’re a teenager again.”

Her name was Celia Franks according to headquarters as the ran the DNA and fingerprints on all possible candidates. Twenty-five years old. A waitress. A daughter. A sister.

The body was now gone from the scene, taken to a funeral home for cleanup and formal wear. Phil was never to see the woman whose life he took away in an instant with a sharp blade and a swift hand again.

Dan leaned over the site, looking for more possible clues. He shook his head. “This killer is quite smart.” He sighed as he checked the ground for more possible clues. “You know, Amy sent an email to me saying that the hair was from a wig, like, how crazy is that?”

“This person must really know their stuff.” Phil credited as he searched with Dan. “They don’t want to get caught.”

Dan shrugged his shoulders with a slight laugh. “Who does?”

“You’d be surprised.” Phil furrowed his eyebrows and scanned his eyes around the dimly lit alley. He focused his eyes back onto the ground. Something caught his eye -- another piece of hair, slightly different coloured and longer than the other one. He went to pick it up, thinking it could be useful to the investigation, but as he was going in, Dan was too. Their hands brushed together.

Since Dan and Phil had drunk sex the other night, there was an awkward tension in the air. Though they had decided that nothing would be different between them and it was just a drunk mistake, there was definitely something going on. Almost everyone could smell the sexual tension between the two when they returned to work -- some, including Amy, made snarky comments about it. Phil couldn’t help but feel it too, especially when he reached out for the clue and his hand grazed against Dan’s. He sucked in a breath as his heart crawled up his throat and his skin began to tingle. Dan retracted his hand awkwardly and slid it into his pocket, standing straight again. Phil examined the hair closely as he ignored the rapid thumping of his heart.

“This one is slightly different than the other one.” he commented, disregarding the tingling of his hand as he twisted the follicle between his fingers. He avoided glancing at Dan to steer clear of more tension.

“I’ll grab a bag from the van, I’ll be back.” Dan mumbled and headed towards the black van, his hands still shoved into the pockets of his work pants. Phil sighed and stayed on his knees seeing if he could find any new clues.

“Where did you come from?” Phil whispered and twisted it between his gloved hands. He noticed it wasn’t his hair colour, but it still raised suspicions. Did the owner of this piece of hair see him kill Celia Franks? He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow, trying to recall the events of that night.

“You good?” Dan questioned, kneeling next to his partner as he held the bag open for the hair follicle.

“Yeah, I was just thinking.” Phil let out a soft breath and dropped the hair into the bag.

Dan frowned as he sealed the bag. He glanced up at the sky. “It seems to be getting late. Maybe we should head back.” Phil nodded his head in response as he pushed himself from his crouch and followed Dan back to the van.

“Phil, seriously man, what’s going on?” Dan questioned, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, as they headed back to the headquarters. He glanced over at a silent Phil, his eyes glued to the window.

“Hmm?” Phil glanced at Dan briefly before looking out the window. “Nothing,” Phil answered and shook his head.

“Okay,” Dan replied, pursing his lips together into a firm line. He reached forward and turned the music up. He hummed and tapped his fingers along to the rhythm of the song. Phil tugged his lip between his teeth as he watched the cars pass. He realized that they were, in fact, parked in an empty parking lot. “Okay,” Dan repeated and turned towards Phil.

“Why are we in an empty parking lot?” Phil scratched the back of his neck and curiously glanced at Dan.

“We’re gonna talk.” Dan affirmed and turned the engine off, not permitting Phil to leave until they finished talking.

“Why?” Phil questioned and leaned back into the car seat, his eyes staying on the side window.

“I think you need it,” Dan turned down the radio. “I think I know why you’re acting so... out of it.”

Phil’s heart began to race. All he could think was, Dan found out. Dan found out. Dan found out.

Dan continued, “We need to talk about--” he gulped. “--a few nights ago.”

Phil shook his head, relieved that Dan was thinking that instead of the latter. “No--”

Dan cut Phil off. “Yeah, we do.” Phil shook his head and reached for the volume control. He turned it back up. Dan spoke louder. “Turning the music up isn’t going to make me stop talking.”

“You said yourself that you didn’t want to talk about it.” Phil replied as he kicked his feet up on the dash.

“That was before we started fucking acting like 10 year olds,” Dan commented and pulled Phil’s leg off of the dash gently. Phil rolled his eyes and kept his arms crossed over his chest.

“I would say we’re acting more like 13 year olds but…” Phil argued, trying to keep the discussion light.

“You know what I meant,” Dan turned off the car. “Now are we going to talk about this or what?”

“I’ve no choice but to.” Phil shrugged. “You said this after--”

“I know what I said, but it’s before we started to put distance between us,” Dan said gently and gently nudged Phil. “We’re partners, Phil, we can’t do this.”

Phil let out a large sigh. “I know.” He bit his lip and turned in his seat toward Dan. “Let’s talk.”

“Thank you,” Dan let out a breath and looked down at his hands for awhile. Phil knew he was formulating his thoughts. Finally he began with a simple, “So, we had sex.”

“We did,” Phil confirmed, tapping his fingers against his thigh. “You can say that as many times as you would like. It happened.”

“Well, I was hoping you’d contribute after that.” Dan frowned and rose an eyebrow. “Was I good?” Phil laughed loudly before he replied.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that? Dan, dude, you -- ah jeez.” Phil cut off as blush filled his cheeks.

“ Oh, ” Dan mumbled and sat straighter in his seat. “You did fine-- well, I mean you did fucking fantastic. You also fucked fantastically but uh -- I’m blabbering.”

Phil rose his eyebrows in response and chuckled. “Well, thank you. I never realized how good I was in bed.”

Dan’s eyes grew wide. “Are you being humble? You’re honestly one of the best I’ve been with.”

Phil cleared his throat. “One of? I’d prefer the best, but I guess I’ll take it.”

“I take it back. You’re an ass,” Dan commented and stuck his tongue out.

“Wow, my ego is so hurt,” Phil replied sarcastically.

“Mine is too. You haven’t admitted that I was your best.” Dan laughed.

“Dan, you were really responsive. It was so fucking attractive.” Phil smirked slightly and tapped his fingers on the console between them.

Dan bit his lip. “I’ll take it,” He grinned at the older detective, then glanced at the time. He changed the subject. “Okay, it’s getting late. If we’re going to make it back on time with London traffic, then we should really go now.” He put his safety belt on and started the vehicle. “I’m inviting you to my house for hot chocolate and we’ll continue this talk.” Dan pointed his finger at Phil and pulled out of the parking lot.

“As you wish.” Phil rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, his eyes looking at Dan’s hand before he glanced out the window.

19 November 2015 -- 3:03 A.M.

Phil slid the blade along the man’s stubbly chin. He looked into the man’s pleading grey eyes. “Please don’t kill me,” the man begged, struggling against the ropes he was tied with. “I have a pregnant girlfriend. I’m too young to die.” Phil gazed at the man curiously as he kneeled in front of the man.

“Oh, do continue begging, it makes this so much more interesting.” Phil grinned and dragged the blade over the man’s chest lightly. Phil sighed and stood back up. “Open wide.”

“That doesn’t even look like a person anymore.” Dan commented on the body, watching the ground to not step on any loose limbs. Dan quickly slipped on some gloves and approached the body. He gently grabbed the open jaw and pulled up the victim’s lips. “He’s lost his tongue,” Dan said slowly and tilted the head back to get a better look. “Cut with a sharp object, very precisely cut.”

“Do you see it anywhere?” Phil asked as he pretended to look through the scattered fingers of his last victim.

“Well, it’s not in his mouth.” Dan laughed, motioning for the photographer to get a photo of the man’s mouth for evidence. The flash went off.

“I would assume not.” Phil grinned and pulled out the voice recorder. He spoke into it, “Missing tongue. No sign of it anywhere. Male. Mid 30’s.” Dan stepped back cautiously and directed the photographers to get pictures of the ground around the man and the cut fingers.

“The victims are getting progressively more gruesome,” Phil noted and scanned the perimeter of abandoned building.

“Yeah,” Dan agreed as he pulled back the man’s bloody shirt. “Do you think it’s the same person doing it?”

Phil shrugged. “Jackson found hair similar to the one left at the other crime scene. Not to mention that the neck is cut similar to last, cut with the shard of metal we found outside the scene.”

“This guy is sick,” Dan muttered. “This victim had a family, a whole photo of them in his wallet.”

“Maybe he’s insane.” Phil suggested as he looked around.

“Wonder what his day job is. Who can go from a pleasant life to a vicious murderer just like that?” Dan wondered aloud as he inspected the man’s hand. He let out a soft chuckle. “Did you see this? The guy only left one finger. Guess which one.”

“Middle finger?” Phil leaned down to get a closer look at the hand.

“Yeah,” Dan laughed. “It’s like a big ‘ Fuck you .’ to us, isn’t it? Very clever, though.”

“I’ll say,” Phil agreed and crossed his arms over his chest. He turned toward the rest of the detectives with them. “Can we get measurements on him please?” He paused and looked at the body. “Or what’s left of him?”

“I’ve got it,” Lynn answered, carrying a toolbox toward them. She pulled out a tape measurer and unraveled it, taking in the length of the man’s body. After a minute of measuring she announced, “He’s 174 centimeters if we measure the side with the leg. If we measure without, he’s about half that.”

“Lovely,” Dan mumbled and was about to run his hand through his hair, but resisted due to the fact that it was clad in a glove covered in blood. “Has anyone discovered anything noteworthy?”

“We could bag a finger,” someone suggested. “Maybe try and find out this guy’s name based on fingerprints.”

Dan pressed his lips together. “Or we could take a piece of his hair.”

They shrugged their shoulders. “It was just a suggestion.”

“Anyone else?” Dan asked as he rose from his crouch.

“We could see if the tongue is underneath the body? If we found the tongue, it may lead to something good.”

“Might as well. We take the bodies to the lab anyways.” Dan shrugged and nodded to the co workers; he stood back. Phil nodded his head in agreement and stood to the side of Dan, kicking Dan’s shoe slightly as he stilled.

While some of the detectives went to get a stretcher, others began to work out how they were going to lift the body. “Lift with your legs,” someone advised. Dan sighed and looked over to his partner.

“We’re finishing that talk, right?” Dan questioned as he knocked shoulders with Phil.

Phil nodded his head. “Yeah, sure.” He watched as the others struggled to lift the man. He wondered how it was so hard for all of them to lift the man when he could lift him like nothing the night before. “When and where?”

“Tonight at my flat, hot cocoa shall be provided?” Dan commented as he kept his eyes on the body.

“With marshmallows?” Phil rose a brow, revealing a smile.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Dan turned to Phil and grinned.

“How many marshmallows do you want in your hot cocoa?” Dan asked as he plopped two large ones in his own mug.

“As many as you can fit in there,” Phil called in from the lounge area. Dan grinned and filled the cup to the rim with marshmallows and walked into the lounge; he gently set the cup onto the table and sat next to Phil.

“Shall we?” Dan said, referring to the whole sex thing. He smiled slightly. Phil took a sip from his mug and nodded.

“You can start.” Phil offered as he chewed on a marshmallow.

“I started last time,” Dan whined and sipped his hot cocoa.

Phil shrugged. “You wanted to continue the conversation.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “You did too or obviously you wouldn’t be here.”

“You offered hot cocoa with unlimited marshmallows. It’s a hard deal to turn down.” Phil grinned.

“Phil.”

“Dan.”

“I hate you,” Dan whined and put his mug between his hands.

“No you don’t.” Phil grinned and folded his legs underneath him.

“So, I’m gonna go full force and give zero fucks on this--” Dan looked down and let out a breath. “Do you have any feelings towards me?”

Phil blinked hard and set down his hot cocoa on the coffee table. “That’s a loaded first question.”

Dan shrugged. “I told you to go first,” He sipped at his drink and waved a hand as if to say ‘Now go on.’ Dan raised a brow at his partner and crossed his legs.

“Well, do you have feelings for me?” Phil fired back and leaned back on the couch.

“I do believe I asked you first.” Dan stuck his tongue out and leaned forward, placing his hot chocolate on the coffee table beside Phil’s.

“Well,” Phil sucked in a breath. “If having feelings for you means having my heart leap up my throat when you brush against me, then yeah… I would say I have feelings for you.” He quickly changed the subject back to Dan. “Do you have feelings for me?”

“Of course I do. I thought it was bloody obvious while I was knackered.” Dan smiled slightly and reached for his mug again.

“Drunkenness doesn’t always show truth, and anyways I’m pretty oblivious.” Phil shrugged his shoulders.

Dan clasped his hands together. “So what do we do with this newlyfound information?”

Phil shrugged again. “You tell me; you asked first.”

“That’s not my fault.” Dan added and pouted his lips.

“Yes it is,” Phil retorted.

“You got me there,” Dan laughed and reached for his mug. “But just because I asked doesn’t mean I have to come up with something.”

“Dan, is it really that hard?” Phil rolled his eyes.

“Yes,” Dan poked one of the marshmallows down into the liquid, watching as it floated up to the top, then took a sip. “I’m not good with feelings nor emotions and I don’t really know how I’d even word this, and I--”

Phil smiled and gently cupped Dan’s jaw, leaning forward slightly as he silenced his words with a soft kiss. Dan’s grip tightened on his mug as he faintly tilted his head, his other hand resting upon Phil’s hip. Phil smiled and pulled back a bit to nudge his nose into Dan’s before speaking.

“Have I ever told you how much you overthink?”

“Maybe once or twice,” Dan laughed as he set his mug back onto the table and positioned himself somewhat closer to Phil. Phil grinned and let his hand fall to the back of Dan’s neck.

“Well, I’m telling you again, Howell.” He teased and rested his forehead onto his partner’s.

“Thanks for the reminder.” Dan rolled his eyes and let a flicker of a smile play onto his lips.

“You’re welcome.” Phil replied, shooting him a small smile. “So,” Phil began, changing the subject. “Are you really going to make me ask?”

“Ask what?” Dan batted his eyelashes as if he were an innocent cartoon.

Phil frowned. “Cut the act, you know what.” He flicked Dan’s nose lightly.

“Who knows,” Dan folded his arms across his chest. “Maybe I don’t know what you’re talking about. You could be asking me about what kind of dog I want to get--” Dan paused, then added, “--Shiba Inu, by the way.”

“Daniel.” Phil rose his brow at the man in front of him.

“Philip,” Dan mocked as he stole a quick peck from Phil’s lips.

A smile spread over Phil’s lips. “Fine, I’ll ask.” He faked a long and drawn out sigh. “Do you fancy being my boyfriend?”

Dan laughed and repeated the question. “Do I fancy being your boyfriend? Yes, I would like that very much.” He leaned forward and kissed Phil’s cheek. “Took you long enough,” Dan joked as he flicked Phil’s nose softly.

“Hey now, that’s not my fault. Crushes aren’t my forte.” Phil defended as a smile broke onto his features. “Besides, now I can call you mine.”

“Cheesy,” Dan noted and made a face.

“Be nice.” Phil chuckled and rubbed his thumb on the skin on the back of Dan’s neck.

Dan rolled his eyes and took Phil’s other hand in his. The corners of his mouth lifted into a grin. He changed the subject. “You’re really pretty, you know.”

“Hm. Did you know that I’ve always thought you were really pretty?” Phil smiled and tapped his fingers on the tops of Dan’s knuckles.

“I literally was drooling when we became partners, like, no offense but I sucked at my job because of you.”

“That’s an image…” Phil made a face and laughed.

“Hey, be nice.” Dan giggled, repeating Phil’s words from earlier.

“Nerd.”

“Dork.”

“So,” Dan spoke loudly over the loud buzzing of the copying machines around them as they hurried through the main office. “You know victim number whatever?”

“Not really,” Phil laughed and shook his head, dodging one of their coworkers carrying a large stack of paperwork. He continued, “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than ‘Victim number whatever ’.”

“The one with the disattached tongue?” Dan clarified.

“Oh, how could I forget?” Phil replied with a soft chuckle, remembering the whimpers of the man as he sliced the tongue off nights before. “Have they found his tongue yet?”

“No, sadly, I don’t think so,” Dan scratched the back of his neck. “But we found something interesting at the scene after we removed the body.”

“Oh?” Phil rose a brow and gripped his coffee cup.

“They’re running tests on it now,” Dan frowned. “It’s kind of strange…” he trailed off in thought.

“Uh, what was it that they found?” Phil questioned through a gripped jaw. His eyes falling to his gripped cup. Dan slowed his pace slightly and grabbed Phil’s arm, pulling him aside into an empty office.

“They think that your hair was found at the scene, but that’s ridiculous? Isn’t it?” Dan ran a hand through his tangled hair, looking at Phil anxiously. “It’s ridiculous that they would even think that someone as loyal as you would do this.”

“It’s probably just from our investigation,” Phil waved a hand nonchalantly. “I understand why they’d be worried, though. Murder isn’t exactly something to play around with.” Phil grabbed Dan’s bicep and squeezed it gently. “No worries, yeah?”

“I just forget how quick this field is to convict someone of a crime.” Dan mumbled and leaned against the closed door.

“You can’t ever be too careful in this job,” Phil commented and placed his coffee mug on the table behind him. He took Dan’s hands and squeezed them lightly. “Every piece of evidence must be accounted for, likely or not. It’s just a chance you have to take.”

“But considering how long you’ve worked in this field, it’s insane to actually think to convict you,” Dan argued back and looked down at Phil’s hand.

“People can snap; I see where they’re coming from.” Phil smiled sadly, his mouth twitching upwards. “It’ll clear soon.” Dan sighed heavily and brought his hand up to Phil’s, gently holding it.

Dan forced a smile. “Do you think you should clear things up with them?”

Phil vaguely loosened his grip on Dan’s hand. “Yeah, I probably should talk to them about that.” He laughed briefly. “We don’t want them to continue to suspect I’m the murderer or anything.”

“We could go do that now--”

“Dan, relax, nerves show lies. I don’t want to be convicted of this.” Phil gripped his jaw and tightened his grip on Dan’s hand.

“Hey, it’ll be fine, just like you said,” Dan assured and smiled at Phil, running his thumb over the back of Phil’s hand.

Phil leaned forward and rested his forehead softly against Dan’s, their noses lightly touching. Many moments of silence passed as they breathed in each other’s scents, focusing on nothing else but the other.

Dan and Phil both jumped at the sound of three knocks, followed by the movement of the door handle as someone attempted to get into the dimly lit room. “Hello? Open the door please.” The locked door handle jingled as the person tried once more to open the door. They knocked two more times.

Dan and Phil stared at the moving handle, oblivious as to what to do. Dan glanced from Phil to the door handle as the person on the other side strived to push open the door. After about a minute of the person’s persistence, Phil finally reached forward and opened the door.

“Having sex in the workplace is not allowed.” The bald man looked Dan and Phil up and down, a frown on his face.

“We weren’t having sex, we were just--” Dan began to say, but was cut off by the man standing in front of them.

“Okay, yeah, and I have a full head of hair,” He bellowed. Dan and Phil both rose a brow, looking from the man to each other. “Sorry, I thought we were playing the lying game.”

“Look, man,” Phil held back a laugh and gestured to his buttoned black jeans. “My penis isn’t even out.” Dan widened his eyes in shock and bit his tongue, his frame shaking with laughter.

“Phil!” Dan scolded as he looked at the small man who stood in shock. The man looked between the two and coughed slightly.

“Uh, not in my office please.”

Phil glanced around the small room, and sure enough, there were photographs of the man and his family pinned everywhere. Phil cleared his throat. “Do you really think that I’d fuck someone in your office with your daughter watching? I have some class.”

Dan’s eyes widened as he reached out and lightly grabbed Phil’s arm. “I think we should go,” Dan forced a small smile at the man and gave Phil’s arm a small squeeze. “It was, uh, nice to meet you, and hope we see you around sometime.” Dan grabbed Phil’s shoulders and pushed him out of the office, quickly nodding to the man.

“What’s the rush?” Phil laughed aloud and stuck his tongue between his teeth.

“You’re terrible.” Dan rolled his eyes.

“I forgot my coffee in there,” Phil frowned. “Do you think we can go back and get it?”

“No, we’ll get you new coffee.”

“But that was my favourite mug...” Phil whined.

“Phil, I can buy you a new cat mug.” Dan assured and flicked Phil’s nose, watching it scrunch up.

“But that was a Neko Atsume cat mug!” Phil pouted and looked at Dan with squinted eyes. “Do you know how much I paid for that on Amazon?”

“No, but--”

“Like £8!” Phil complained. “And now baldy is going to piss in it or something.”

“I’m sure he’s not going to piss in it.”

“He thinks we fucked in his office, so I’m sure he’ll be thinking of payback.”

“If some people fucked in your office, would you piss in their mug?” Dan asked, trying hard to hold back his giggles.

“Maybe,” Phil mumbled and shrugged his shoulders, “Depends on how badly I hate the person.”

Dan let out a laugh and patted Phil’s shoulder lightly. “I guess you learn something new about someone everyday.” Phil narrowed his eyes at the taller man.

“Don’t you have a job to attend to?” Phil muttered and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I could say the same to you, Mr. Lester.” Dan retorted as his lips twitched up into a grin.

“I guess we could go find out about that strand of hair now,” Phil suggested, taking Dan’s hand in his own. “See if it really belongs to me.”

“Guess we should.” Dan smiled and ran his thumb over Phil’s and led them towards the DNA analysis lab. Phil couldn’t help but smile down at their hands.

28 November, 2015 - 3:09 AM

As it turned out, Phil needed to be more careful with his hair during his killing sprees. The piece of hair was, in fact, his, and despite his allegations, which his coworkers believed, he still had to be more cautious.

With this thought in mind, that night Phil meticulously put on his wig, and tediously searched the blonde wig for raven hairs that could possibly be his. His hands worked quickly to pin back any follicles of hair that could potentially fall out on the scene of a crime, the gel he used to push back the front of his fringe left a sticky mess to ensure that nothing would come loose. He was not to make any mistakes like he did that night ever again. The anger that he felt toward himself for making the mistake fueled his need to shed blood once more.

The streets of London, before the sun rises, are full of drunk people, prostitutes, and the homeless. Searching for a victim is easier than one may think.

Phil scoured the city, looking people he passed up and down as he hunted for his next kill. As the time ticked on, an hour passed, and he began to slightly lose hope of creating bloodshed on that night. The sky began getting slightly lighter as Phil walked on with tired legs and sleepy eyes. The knife in his pocket itched at his skin, eager for a kill. His fingers itched at his side, his eyes leaping from subject to subject eagerly, like a tiger after it’s prey. The makeup caked onto his face became too hot, too sticky, he needed release. He needed to endure someone’s pain, he needed to cause it. He needed a victim.

His golden eyes landed upon a child; how sick it would be to take a child’s soul? His eyes moved to a different being, he couldn’t bring himself to kill a child. The being was hunched over a trash can, the sounds of tears hitting the metal echoed from holes in the old trash can, Phil’s fingers twitched once more. Perfect.

Phil glanced out of the corner of his eye to be sure no one else was around before heading toward the person. He reached out and grabbed the person by the sides. They began to struggle against his grip. “Hey, hey,” he said softly in an American accent. “It’s okay; it’s just me. I’m your friend, your buddy, your pal.” The person vomited into the bin. Phil reached into his pocket pulling out the rag he had soaked into nauseous liquid. He ran his hand up and down the shaking back of the ill person, and in a swift motion he forced the rag onto the person’s face. In his hands laid a now limp body.

Phil dragged the person through the darkened alley and behind a building. He threw the person onto the ground and checked his watch. It was 4:03 AM; he still had time to do something grotesque with the person in front of him. He didn’t have time to wait until they woke up, so he started his plans early.

Phil pulled a box of matches and oil from the inside of his coat, and drenched the body in the heavy liquid. He struck the match against the box. The flame sputtered and went out as the wind pick up; Phil frustratedly tossed it to the ground. He crouched down next to the body, avoiding the liquid, and put his hand over the unlit match. He struck the match 3 times before the body rose in flames, muffled screams echoed off the walls as the heat reflected on every surface. Phil watched as he backed away from the flames scorching flesh, the toxic smell of rotting skin made his nostrils burn as he grinned down at the struggling being. Skin began to melt onto black bloodied concrete while the twitching body began to still and send blackened flames into the air. Phil breathed in the toxic fumes seeping from the flames and turned his back to the blackening body.

Dan and Phil flashed their badges at the local policemen and they were in, no questions asked.

As soon as they had arrived at the scene, Dan turned his nose up at the stench, gagging as they approached the body. With each step closer the sickening odor ripened, causing Dan’s stomach to turn. Liquid formed at the lining of workers eyes as they inspected the scene, the fetor enveloped all their senses entirely. The smell seeped into the detectives clothes, the aroma sticking to the fabrics’ stitches. Who knew the fragrance of burnt flesh could smell so nauseating?

“The victim was killed early this morning, right before the sun rose. Neighbours reported smelling the burning of flesh and smoke around that time,” A policeman said as he walked the two men into the scene, a cloth held to his nose. “The whole area is in shock.”

“Can you get me a specific time please?” Dan questioned as he stepped over billowing crime scene tape. “I need as much of that information that is being uncovered, as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir.” The man nodded his head at the detectives and quickly gathered his men as Dan knelt near the body, inspecting the charcoal marks painting the concrete of the alley.

Dan turned to Phil. “Do you think it’s the same person?” Dan pulled a latex glove from his pocket, slid it on, and ran his fingertips over the scorched pavement. He held his hand in front of his face and frowned at the charred bits that rubbed onto the glove.

“You see, the murderer lit the victim on fire, and the scorch marks are surrounding all of the possible places that the victim could have struggled against. The pavement here is all smudged towards the body. If it were an explosion, the marks would form more of a star shape.” Phil noted. He cleared his throat. “I think there is a strong possibility that this is the same guy who committed our other murders.”

“I think he, or they, ran out of time during this kill,” Dan commented and squinted his eyes at the corpse. “Most of the killings were late in the night, precisely done, while this one was rushed. Throw a flame on someone and that gets the job done quite easily. They were late, but for some reason they felt the need to get the job done this morning. There seems to be no pattern to their killings.” Dan swabbed the blackened soot from the scorched concrete and handed it off to his coworker.

Someone tapped Phil’s shoulder. He turned around to find a small young woman holding an envelope. It was labeled ‘TOP SECRET’. “I have some evidence for you two.” She handed the orange envelope to Phil. “They said I should deliver this to you, um, apparently it’s top secret.”

Phil nodded a thank you to her and turned back to Dan. “Should we open it?” Phil fingered the seal with his thumb.

Dan pushed himself up from his crouch and slipped off his gloves. He shrugged. “She said it was for us. I’m sure it wouldn’t be a bad thing if we did.” He grabbed the file from Phil and peeled back the opening, sliding out a document and a USB flash drive. Dan’s eyes skimmed over the typed document and suddenly swore under his breath. “We’ve got him, Phil! We got the sick bastard on tape!” Dan held up the USB in shock. “We’ve got to get this to our boss.”

Phil tried to play along as his stomach sunk to his knees. He hadn’t been careful enough to check for cameras before setting the body ablaze. He’d been too eager for the kill. “Looks like they shouldn’t have been so eager to ignite someone,” Phil tried to put excitement into his words, but his mind kept going back to how much work this was going to cost him. He was going to have to get a new wig, find new clothes, order new contacts, contour his face differently if he didn’t want to get caught in the act again. They were surely going to put out posters for him. The video would be aired all over television. “What a dumbass.”

“Man, whoever figured to check the cameras is a genius.” Dan awed and slid the document and USB back into the folder, delivering it to his coworker to keep it in safe hands. Phil absentmindedly nodded his head as his heart jumped up to his throat, the anger fueling him was unbearable. He had to get rid of that evidence. He was in too far to give up his bloodshed. “Why didn’t we remember to check the cameras?”

“We’re idiots,” Phil replied, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

Dan furrowed his eyebrows and frowned at Phil. “Why aren’t you very excited? This is a huge breakthrough.”

Dan was suspicious and Phil needed to cover himself quickly. “I don’t know,” he sighed, lies spewed from his mouth without even trying to think of them, “I’ve worked in this field for so long that I try not to get my hopes up. For all we know, these cameras might’ve not even gotten a clear shot of our suspect.” Lies.

“I understand that, but we can watch it with our techs and they could uncover so many things that could lead to us capturing this person!” Dan explained with frantic hand movements and widened eyes. He grabbed Phil’s hand suddenly and squeezed it tightly in his. “Phil, this could be our biggest accomplishment in all our years of work,” Dan said softly as his lips twitched upwards in a smile.

“Maybe,” Phil smiled and looked at the van holding the evidence he left behind. “Uh, who figured out the cameras anyways?” Phil questioned with a set jaw, his eyes roaming the faces of his coworkers.

Dan frowned. “Not sure, but it’s probably in the document somewhere. Why?”

“I wanted to give them credit for being so smart,” Phil chuckled. He wanted to give them credit, alright. “I would have never guessed. They deserve to be on the news or something.” Phil grinned; they deserved to be on the news. Their death will be plastered on every news station there was when he finished them.

“It should be on the document, if not someone will bring it up.” Dan smiled. “What a genius.” Phil nodded as he gritted his teeth together.

Phil knew exactly who his next kill would be. He just had to get a new persona first.

5 December, 2015 - 12:12 AM

“You know, I really did like you, man. You were a genius in our field; it’s a shame really,” Phil grinned as he took in the fear coating his coworker’s eyes. “But sometimes being a genius isn’t what it’s all made out to be.” Phil mumbled as he pulled a chair up in front of the beaten coworker. He sat down and studied the fear that was etched upon their features. “Do you like spinning rides, Craig?”

Phil gripped the handle latched onto the giant wheel sat next to him. He sent Craig a wicked smile as he spun the wheel and tossed a knife at the wood. The dull thud echoed off of the walls. “Let’s have some fun.”

When Phil arrived the next morning, the office was in cahoots. Everyone seemed panicked and scared. You’d think someone died...

Phones rang nonstop, important papers shuffled from desk to desk, and people grieved the death of their dear coworker and friend, Craig. Anxiety filled the air as people fathomed the thought that the murderer was actually someone who worked in the detective's unit, as foolish as that sounded. It was a possibility, of course. Craig was the guy who discovered the security footage of the blond man, and days later he himself was deceased.

Phil strolled down the corridor to his meeting with Amy Dickinson, this time alone. He would meet Dan there. He dreaded opening the door to the frantic office, you could hear the ruckus through the solid wooden door as you approached it. Phil let out a breath through reddened lips, biting them was always his nervous habit, and pulled open the door.

“Lester, glad you could finally arrive!” Dickinson called out as the door shut behind him, all eyes landing on the seemingly too calm worker. “Would you care to explain the reason you were late to everyone?” she demanded. It was no questions with her, if you get called to speak upon you better have a damn good answer.

“I was mourning the dear loss of our loved one, Craig,” Phil mumbled as he clinched his jaw tight, his hand tightening around the coffee in his hand. “I’m oh so sorry for being late because of my human emotions.” He added and watched as the color red painted across Dickinson’s face.

“Get to work,” she snapped and the whole room was once again brought to a frantic ruckus.

Phil spotted Dan across the room, trying to contain his giggles as he scribbled words onto a clipboard. Phil wandered over to him. Dan looked up from his clipboard. “Human emotions, hm?” he let out a light laugh.

“She needs to know that unlike her, some people have them,” Phil clasped his hand on Dan’s shoulder and studied the notepad. “What’s this?”

“Notes on some of the past murders that we can link to our person,” Dan replied and tapped his pen against the desk in front of him. He frowned. “Unfortunately, I don’t have much so far.”

“Dan, you’re the best in the field; these notes are brilliant.” Phil looked over his notes in shock of how accurate they were. “Also, I brought you some coffee. Your favourite, of course.” Phil smiled and held up the warm beverage.

“You think so?” Dan grinned and grabbed the coffee from Phil. “Thank you, babe.”

“I know so,” Phil beamed and spun a chair around. He sat down, clasped his hands together, and sighed. He focused back on Dan’s notes, “What exactly do you have written down?”

“Basically what kind of hair we’ve found in each scene, the way the person was murdered, etcetera…” Dan tossed the pen and paper onto the desk and reached for his coffee. “You know, everyone is really worried around here,” he leaned forward on the edge of his seat and whispered, “There are rumours that the killer is someone in this building,” he leaned back and sipped his drink before going into his normal pitch, “It’s mad, huh? Who would’ve thought?”

“And what do you think about that rumour?” Phil asked curiously as he spun in his chair.

“It’s kinda terrifying,” Dan admitted. “I felt safe, but now we’re all vulnerable again.” Dan shrugged his shoulders and wrapped his hands around his coffee.

“Dan Howell, the best detective around, is actually feeling unsafe?” Phil teased with raised eyebrows and a cheshire grin.

“Shut up,” Dan mumbled, a thin blush coated his cheeks.

“Don’t worry,” Phil reached forward and squeezed Dan’s hand comfortingly. “I’ll protect you from any murderers.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Will you?”

“Yeah,” Phil let go of Dan’s hand and flexed his arms. “They won’t be able to get passed these guns.” Dan scoffed and kicked Phil’s chair back.

“Oh thank god, my hero .” Dan rolled his eyes again and sipped from his coffee cup, hiding his giggles.

“Rude,” Phil mumbled and rolled back over to their desk. “You could stay at my flat if you’re that scared. I’ve a great security system and movie collection, or we could crack down on the case.” Phil offered and kicked his legs up on top of the wooden desk.

Dan crossed his arms and pretended to think about it. “Hm, I don’t know,” he tapped his chin with his forefinger. “Is Legally Blonde included in your movie collection?”

“It certainly can be.” Phil laughed.

“Good,” Dan shot Phil a grin. “That movie is the reason I decided to go into this field.”

“Can I fire you?” Phil scoffed and held a hand towards his heart. “CSI is where it’s truly at,” he commented and leaned back into his chair.

“Rude.” Dan copied and stuck his tongue out, scanning the frantic room.

“So, is that a yes then?”

“I hate you.”

“The first victim was Celia Franks, she suffered several carvings to her skin and had the heel lodged into the neck wound. The second was Joseph Collins, his tongue was cut and taken, his limbs amputated and set up to lay around the scene. The third, previously unidentified, Crystal "Candy" Bowler. The fourth, Craig Walters, took a ride on the wheel of death, but there’s still not much of a reasoning to the killings. The murders have no connections to each other, and there’s not even connections between the lives of the victims.” Dan set all known cases in front of them, the table littered with files and pictures of each victim.

“Maybe they’re just killing for the fun of it,” Phil suggested as he absentmindedly tapped his pen against the table in front of them. “Maybe there is no reason for each of their killings.”

Dan scrunched his nose up at the thought. “That’s kind of sick, don’t you think? What kind of disgusting person would go out and murder people for fun?” Dan shuffled through the papers, scanning quickly over each document, looking for some kind of clue. “That can’t be the reason they’re doing all these killings; they can’t just be doing them for fun, Phil.”

“Not all killers are motivated by past horrors, maybe they like the thrill or the bloodrush,” Phil commented, watching Dan as he stopped looking through the papers.

“Sounds like you know from experience,” Dan mumbled out of agitation, his hands rested upon the notes as he glanced up at Phil.

“Well, yeah, I’ve been in this field for a long time. A tad longer than you have actually,” Phil swallowed hard, desperate to change the subject. “Besides, if you don’t think I’m correct, what do you have in mind? What are your hypotheses?” Phil questioned, he knew that Dan’s agitation led to false accusations.

“I don’t fucking know. They’re insane?” His eyes scanned over the pictures above each case, the tip of his pen tapping on the notepad in front of him. “There has to be something that we’re missing. A part of the puzzle maybe?” Dan quickly scribbled notes on the pad and sighed heavily.

“Maybe there’s no piece missing,” Phil suggested. “Maybe he, or they, just like to kill people.” Phil threw down his pen and shrugged. “Some people like to knit sweaters, some like to rescue animals, and this person likes to scalp people.” Dan looked at Phil for a moment, his lips twitching upwards.

“Only you make murders sound comedic.” Dan grinned and leaned his elbows on the table, his eyes scanning over the documents in front of him.

“I know how to lighten up death,” Phil shrugged and nudged Dan with his foot. “We’ll get this guy, no worries, yeah?”

The corners of Dan’s mouth turned upwards as he nodded his head. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right.” Phil beamed and reached for Dan’s hand, squeezing it lightly. “Now why don’t we take a short break and go watch Legally Blonde now?” Dan rolled his eyes, unable to refrain the smile that formed on his face.

“I, for one, am all for that idea.” Dan grinned as Phil tugged him from his chair and led him towards the living room.

“Of course you are.” Phil made a face as he searched for the movie in his collection. He found it and slipped it into the DVD player.

“It’s Legally Blonde ! The movie is hilarious!” Dan defended as he fell back on the couch, his limbs taking up the majority of the furniture.

Phil rolled his eyes and ignored Dan’s comment. He pointed the remote at the television to start the movie previews. “Do you want popcorn?”

“Yes please.” Dan answered with a small smile as he shifted his body into a more relaxed position whilst still taking up most of the sofa. Dan stretched out as Phil disappeared into his kitchen, his toes hitting the end of the couch as his head hung off the cushions; he purposely took up as much space as possible. His eyes remained on the white paint on the ceiling as he waited for Phil to return with the delicious buttery popcorn. He listened vaguely to the ads for other movies as he eagerly awaited Legally Blonde .

When Phil returned with a metal bowl of hot popcorn, it was time to press play on the movie. “Move it, Howell.” Phil nudged Dan’s arm with his knee as he popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

“I’m comfy,” Dan whined and narrowed his eyes at Phil.

“Get uncomfy.” Phil cocked his eyebrows at the giant that has taken control of his couch. “Please?” Dan made an inhuman noise and pulled his legs to his chest.

“This isn’t comfy,” Dan noted as he glared at the older man.

“Make do with it.” Phil shrugged his shoulders as he put a handful of popcorn into his mouth. He tilted the bowl toward Dan. “Want some?”

Dan nodded his head and positioned himself upright so he could grab some popcorn. He tossed a piece into his mouth and caught it on his tongue.

“Impressive,” Phil commented dryly with raised brows.

“Thanks, it’s one of my many talents,” Dan replied smugly as he threw another piece into the air and tried to catch it; he missed. “It was one of my many talents,” he corrected himself.

“The mighty have fallen.” Phil scoffed and spit a kernel towards Dan.

“Isn’t that a Fall Out Boy song?” Dan furrowed his brows and mentally went through every Fall Out Boy song he knew off the top of his head.

“I’m truly disgusted by your lack of intelligence on Fall Out Boy.” Phil glanced at Dan and rolled his eyes.

“Listen.” Dan sat straight and wiggled his finger at Phil. “I’m more of a Muse type of guy.”

Phil pressed his lips into a smile and nodded. “Alright, you’ve got me there.”

The movie finally started and Reese Witherspoon appeared on the screen. Dan leaned forward and flicked Phil’s nose. “Okay, shh, quiet. The movie is on.”

Phil arrived at the detective’s bureau early with a plan to snoop around and find names, and files, of those working on his case. What he’d do with them when he got them, he wasn’t quite sure.

Surely there were always people in the workplace, no matter how early he arrived, but by turning up early, he’d have more time to search for his victims. Plus, he had the advantage of saying it was for the case, which wasn’t entirely a lie, as he looked through the documents of his coworkers.

The documents contained everything Phil needed: an address, a name, a face, and their accomplishments. With the accomplishments, he figured he could go through them and write down the most prominent ones, or the ones who were closer to figuring him out. Phil took no risks when it came to people coming close to uncovering his identity.

Phil scampered quickly to the document office as soon as he clocked in, eager to discover his future killings. As soon as he entered the office he immediately went straight to the filing cabinets, pulling out three drawers at a time. His fingers skimmed over file names until he found the ones that specifically pertained to his case. He left his and Dan’s files out of the mix as he had no interest in killing either of them.

“Fifteen of our best are currently working on this case; Dan Howell, Phil Lester, Craig Walters, Jerny Walls, Devin Baker, Ronnie Wilkes, Melanie Ramirez, Barry Sanders, Gary Thompson, Thomas Frost, Ansh Patel, Dodie Clark, Chuck Reynolds, Nancy Davis, and Lynn Ji.” Phil read out softly and picked up each of the individual files, noticing that Craig’s read “ terminated ”.

Phil frowned, remembering the spinning and screams of distress Craig made just a week ago. It was too bad Craig had to be working on this case; it was too bad any of these people had to be working on this case. Phil certainly didn’t want to murder thirteen of his coworkers, but he also didn’t want to be discovered; he did what he had to do, and if killing his fellow employees was something he had to do, then he was going to follow through. He promised himself he wouldn’t kill Dan, though, no matter what. Phil looked at the list once more before scribbling down every name onto a pad of paper. He quickly shoved the paper into his wallet and replaced all the files to their rightful positions. He let out a breath before leaving the office, a soft sorry leaving his lips as he did.

“Hey, I saw you clocked in early today. Did you get some research done?” Dan smiled as he clocked in and passed Phil his coffee cup, his hands full of documents from last night’s work session.

“Uh, yeah a little. I didn’t want to wake you or anything so I hope that note that I left was good enough.” Phil took a sip from the coffee, the warmth filling him instantly. “I wanted to do some background checks on some of the victims and the evidence that we’ve collected.” It wasn’t entirely a lie; he just forgot to add the word ‘future’ before the word ‘victims’.

“Did you discover anything new?” Dan asked and reached for the documents in Phil’s hands. He flipped through them with a frown. “This is all stuff from last night.”

“Yeah I know, I didn’t want to forget them and miss any crucial information,” Phil lied as he quickly grabbed the files from Dan’s hands. “I wanted to base the new information on the old.” Dan furrowed his brows as the files were taken from him.

“I guess that makes sense,” Dan shrugged his shoulders in response. Dan’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Dan pulled it out of his pocket and furrowed his eyebrows as his eyes scanned over the message. He sighed, “Looks like I’ve been called to a last minute meeting. Do you want to discuss the new data over lunch later?”

“Sounds great.” Phil forced a smile and walked himself back to the evidence room to collect the data that he never found.

Phil glanced up from the menu in front of him to find a disheveled Dan, late as usual, with scrambled papers held against his chest. He hurried into the restaurant and shot a smile at Phil before explaining to the confused employees that he was supposed to have lunch with the pale man sitting in the corner booth. Dan hustled toward Phil and threw the documents down on the paper with a loud sigh.

“Late as usual, Howell,” Phil commented with a small smile carved into his features.

“Are you even surprised at this point?” Dan asked as he quickly unwrapped himself from his coat and sat down. Once he was sitting, he clasped his hands and pursed his lips together. “The meeting ran a little late.”

Phil pretended to check his imaginary watch and raised an eyebrow at the younger man. “Is that what we’re saying these days?”

“It was a mandatory meeting!” Dan clarified and put the folders in front of him, slinging his bag into the booth he was sat in. “Anyways, I’ll have you know that I ran here.” Dan added as he pulled papers out from the folders.

“You ran?” Phil rose his brows as he held back a laugh, his tongue poking between his teeth.

“I do actually know how to exercise contrary to your beliefs.” Dan reached for the coffee Phil retrieved for him. “Thank you for the coffee by the way. I owe you like 5 cups of coffee, you know. Anyways I think we’re on to something -- I did some research during the meeting; I couldn’t help myself.” Dan’s eyes scanned over his paperwork as he organized it in front of him.

“What did you discover?” Phil craned his neck and squinted his eyes to try to read the upside down words on the papers in front of Dan. He could hardly make out any words of Dan’s handwriting which was probably why Phil usually wrote out all of the notes. Trying to read Dan’s handwriting was like trying to read hieroglyphics without a key. It really was that bad.

“You can’t read my handwriting, I don’t know why you try.” Dan teased and flipped a document towards Phil. “I’ve made a connection between the murders, each one is done randomly, but all of them are committed before the sun rises. Knowing that, “ Dan slid another document towards Phil. “We can have a good time range of when the crimes will be committed, which would be when the darkness can hide the murder and before the sun rises.”

“Have you noticed if they commit the killings in a certain area of London?” Phil asked, his fingers hovering over the pages placed in front of him. “Like, none of them have been too far away from each other. This guy isn’t traveling two hours to stab someone, you know?”

Dan pushed another sheet of paper toward the older man with a sly smile on his face. “I’ve already mapped them all out and they’ve all been done within around thirty minutes away from each other.” He circled the pinpoints on the map. “All done in this city, nowhere close to any other location. They’re mostly done in alleyways and hidden layouts, we could easily hook up surveillance cameras to any hidden alleyway or disclosed locations surrounding our city.” Dan tapped his pen on highlighted areas. “I’ve researched alleyways covering this stretch of town and took the time to map them. It should all be fairly easy; hidden cameras should do the trick.”

“You really have thought this all out,” Phil muttered through clenched teeth, he didn’t think of the possibility of hidden cameras. He spoke a little louder and tried to throw Dan off course, “London is quite big in it’s whole, you don’t think it’ll be hard to find all of the hidden alleys?”

“I mean, we have a large map of the entirety of London’s alleyways and loads of people working in our department who would be willing to help,” he waved his hand. “It’ll be nothing, besides, we don’t have to place the cameras in all of London -- just within thirty minutes of where the stabbings have been happening.”

“Are you sure Amy will approve of the spending?” Phil was going to try anything so Dan wouldn’t go through with his plan. “It’s quite expensive.”

“I believe Dickinson will agree to anything at this point to catch this criminal.” Dan rubbed his nose slightly and looked down at his work. “This guy is good, we’ve got to go beyond our abilities to catch them. This is the most solid proof idea we’ve come up with.”

“I’m not disagreeing, but purchasing a camera for every alleyway is going to need a lot a funding, and we don’t have enough money for all this in our company.” Phil tapped his fingers on the paper and adjusted the collar on his shirt. “This plan is brilliant, Dan, and I support it one hundred percent it’s just--”

“Really? Because it doesn’t sound like you support this,” Dan muttered and glanced at Phil. “You’re usually full force on these cases but with this one you seem to just have blown it off.” Dan noted and pulled his documents back, his eyes scanning over this work. “I feel as if I’m working alone.”

“You’re not working alone, Dan.” Phil reached out and placed his hand on top of Dan’s. “This person is just so much more difficult to catch and find than our other suspects. This one actually has a brain in their head and--” Phil was cut off by a smiling waitress coming over to take their meal order.

“Are you two ready to order?” her pencil rested lightly against the notepad, ready to write down the names of their food. “Sorry I took so long, I just wanted to make sure you had long enough to study the menu.”

“Uh, it’s fine. I’ll just have the soup special please.” Dan said politely and drew his hand from the table, letting it rest in his lap.

“I’ll have the same.” Phil shrugged and watched as the waitress wrote the orders down quickly and scurried off.

“The thing is, Phil, it doesn’t add up. We’ve had cases similar to this so many times before. Why’re you being affected so much during this one?” Dan continued and leaned back into his seat, leaving Phil’s hand to rest awkwardly on the table.

“I don’t feel as if I’m acting different, Dan.”

“You are acting different.”

“I’m sorry, Dan, are you the fucking police?”

Dan flinched before answering, “Actually, yeah, I am.” Dan frowned and scratched the back of his neck.

“Okay, I guess you got me there.”

“And so are you,” Dan continued. “Which is why I can’t figure out why you’re acting different.”

“I’m not.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Okay whatever, Phil. What evidence did you find this morning when you clocked in so early?” Phil opened his mouth to defend himself, but instead of saying anything he shut it and pulled his papers out from his folders.

“I was studying the ages and similarities between the victims and the first few are differing but the last few had a job in a forensic science field.” Phil spoke plainly as he slid papers and notes onto the table, his mind on the fact that Dan was getting to know too much.

“What subdivisions were they within?” Dan leaned forward in his seat.

“Anthropology, CSI, Chemistry, Pathology…” Phil listed off the first that he could recall. “Probably others but I believe those were the main ones.”

Dan frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the bubbly waitress returning with their soup and salads. “In coming,” her voice rang throughout the room as she quickened her pace toward the two detectives. She stopped in front of their table and frowned as she went to set down one of the bowls. “You may want to move that.”

“Sorry,” Dan mumbled as he scooped up the scattered documents to make room for their lunch. The waitress placed everything on the table and disposed of the cutlery.

“Do you want more coffee? More sugar or cream?” she craned her neck to see into the ceramic white mugs.

“No, thank you,” they both replied and watched as the lady nodded and went to another table.

“What were you about to say?” Phil questioned as Dan broke crackers into his soup.

“The ties between the field of work, they all surround the studying of the body and crime scene. I’m thinking this guy is taking out any possible resources that can lead to them being caught.” Dan took a sip from his coffee.

“Meaning he’s targeting anyone working on his case.” Phil clarified and watched as Dan subtly put his spoon down.

“We’ve got to alert everyone on the case--” Dan started gathering his things.

“Dan, the killer doesn't attempt anything till the sky darkens, it’s noon as of right now.” Phil stirred his soup with his spoon. “Besides, our food just arrived, and I’m hungry.”

“But--”

“We have plenty of time, Dan, trust me.” Phil spooned the soup into his mouth. It instantly warmed his stomach. “Eat your soup, then we can warn everyone.”

“Okay,” Dan sighed and placed his coat back beside him. “I guess you’re right.”

“When am I not?” Phil looked up from his soup and shot Dan a cheeky grin.

Dan rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too cocky, Lester.”

“There’s no such thing as too cocky.”

Dan threw his hands down on Amy Dickinson’s desk. “We need to call a mandatory emergency meeting, stat.”

Amy stopped typing on her computer, her eyes widening slightly at Dan’s sudden presence as she seemed to quickly switch tabs. Once she gathered herself, she folded her hands together over her desk. Her eyes wandered from Dan to Phil quietly standing behind him. “Why?”

“We have new information pertaining to our most recent case.” This time it was Phil who spoke. He had to convince Dan that he was just as dedicated to this case as his partner, and if this was the way to do it, then he was going to follow through. “It’s kind of important.”

“Very well then,” Amy sighed and picked her phone up to notify everyone in their team. When she hit send, both Dan and Phil’s phones went off. They raised both raised confused brows at her, but she just shrugged. “I have you all in a group so I can easily alert everybody.” She quickly typed out something on her computer and looked up at the men in front of her. “The meeting room is a great place to start, I’ll be there shortly.” She nodded at them as they grinned sheepishly and left the room.

“I don’t think she wanted a meeting called today,” Phil muttered as he lead them towards the meeting room.

“She’ll be ecstatic by the end, don’t you worry.” Dan assured as they turned down a hallway, he was undeniably excited to share the information they’re collected.

“I do hope so.” Phil let out a breath and followed after Dan’s long strides.

Lucky for them, they were the first people in the meeting room, so they got to choose their seats. They, of course, sat next to each other. Dan tossed the documents onto the table and pulled out the chair to sit in. He twisted the chair from side to side slightly as he awaited the arrival of their coworkers. Phil sat beside him and eyed the spinning boy.

“Bringing out your inner child, hm?” Phil rested his elbows on the sides of his seat.

Dan shrugged and continued to twirl in the chair. “You’re never too old to spin in a spinny chair, especially when you’re anxious about revealing deadly information to your coworkers.”

“ Oh ,” Phil commented and looked towards his hands, the hands that have killed fellow co-workers. His head snapped back up as people began to file into the room, seats began creaking under the weight of living bodies. Dan abruptly stopped spinning in his chair and sorted through his paperwork, his hands moving quickly to organize his work. The last person to arrive was Amy. She took her seat in the front of the room and cleared her throat.

“Hello everyone,” she welcomed, shifting slightly in her seat before continuing on, “It has come to my attention that Detective Howell and Detective Lester have uncovered new and crucial information for our case. Go on…” she instructed with a wave of her hand.

Dan’s fingers twitched slightly as he lifted a sheet of paper and held it closer toward him. “Hey,” he forced a smile and glanced from Phil to everyone else around the room. “Um, we’ve discovered some vital information for you all,” he practically repeated Dickinson’s words. Everyone’s eyes were locked on Dan and his sheet of data. He asked the detectives, “Do you want the good news or bad news first?”

“Howell, please just notify us,” Dickinson spoke plainly.

“We’ve been researching the ties between the victims in our most recent case that we’ve all been captivated with. We’ve discovered not only that there are in fact ties within the victim’s deaths, but there is a main point that we’ve all looked over. Aside from the fact that the killings are randomly placed, they all take place between the hours of when night falls and the sun rises. No later, no sooner. As we looked into that we discovered that the first few victims were completely randomized with no ties to any other, at least to our knowledge. With that information we studied the most recent deaths and began to notice a chain between them. The last few victims all worked in a forensic science field: a field that exposes the criminals and uncovers who they might be through DNA samples, fingerprints, etcetera. Looking back on Craig’s case, he worked closely on each recent death that the killer has committed. He knew information that we were not yet notified of. The killer knew that he worked closely to his doings, and targeted him for one reason only. To keep his secret confined with him,” Dan spoke clearly as he glanced around the room of solid faces, jaws clenched tightly as they awaited his final conclusion. “The killer is targeting the ones working closest to their case.”

“So you’re saying we’re all in danger?” Nancy Davis asked for clarification.

Phil nodded his head. “You all should probably purchase a large padlock or good security system.”

“Personally, I think you both are looking too far into it. I’m sure they won’t come murder all fourteen of us.” Devin Baker voiced his opinion. “I don’t think they’ll be able to find all of our addresses, besides, how do they know who is all working on this case? Not all of us get our names on television and in newspapers.” Phil clenched his jaw tightly.

“I think we may have a killer who has connection to our facilities.” Phil suggested and locked eyes with Devin, tempting him to cross them. Phil couldn’t believe he was putting the thought on the table, but he knew they’d come to the conclusion eventually, and it made him seem less suspicious if he coined the idea first -- or maybe it’d make him look more suspicious, he didn’t know. “If they are in our facilities they have the capability to obtain the knowledge of their case.”

“How would they have the ability to do so?” Devin challenged and laughed snarkily. “It’s not like the killer is one of us.” Phil bit his tongue to keep himself from laughing.

“That sounds like something a murderer would say.” He placed his palms flat on the table and pursed his lips, studying Devin’s face closely.

“ Enough ,” Dickinson snapped and all heads turned towards her. The room grew silent. “Dan, you said you had good news, though?”

Dan brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, feeling his cheeks heat slightly. “Well, it wasn’t necessarily good news, it was just better than everyone being murdered.”

Amy nodded her head slowly and laced her fingered together as she turned back to the group of detectives. “Well, if no one else has any keypoints on our case, then I suppose we may go now…” She waited a few moments for someone to speak up and break the silence, but no one did. “Alright then, you are all dismissed.” Dan and Phil stayed back until they were the only two people left in the office. They watched Dickinson sit back down in her chair and lean her elbows on the table. “My two finest workers, you have really came through in this case. Thank you for assuring the safety for my clientele. Have you two discussed any further ideas to help close this case?”

“Miss, I believe that you should ask Dan about his idea. He has a well-rounded thorough process on the safety of our city and how to ensure the capture of our criminal.” Phil spoke as he nodded towards his partner.

“Mr. Howell, please do share your thoughts.” Dickinson smiled and gave her full attention to her employee.

“I was thinking we could get security cameras and place them all over London, at least within thirty minutes of where the deaths have been happening so we could possibly capture this criminal on tape.” Dan tapped his fingers against the table in front of him, eager for Amy’s reply.

She frowned and brought up the same point Phil had been afraid of. “Don’t you think it’ll cost a lot of money? And we’ll probably have to get permission from the government or people who own those properties…” she trailed off in thought with creased eyebrows.

“I understand about the controversy of the money issue, but I truly believe that this could be the most solid way of proof to get our criminal on tape and keep the people of our city safe. It’s a bit of a stretch, I know, but we could raise money with funding or donations, but I do believe this will help.”

“I’ll think about it,” Amy replied softly and shifted slightly in her seat. “Thank you.”

Detective Bureau of London

***Suspect #13***

Name: Kyrin Miller Alias: N/A Sex: Male Birthday: 07 January, 1995 Crime: Murder of Linda Procker, Celia Franks, Craig Walters, Joseph Collins, and Crystal “Candy” Bowler Height: 173 cm Weight: 184 lbs Hair: Black Eyes: Brown Comp: Fair Date of Arrest: 17 December 2015 Officer of arrest: Riegelman, Sharon Comments: Claims falsely accused.

Phil glanced up from the clipboard to the man sitting strapped in front of him. Kyrin gripped the chair handles so tightly his knuckles turned white. His questioning terror-filled brown eyes studied the two detectives in front of him, but his mouth clamped shut; his bottom lip quivered slightly in fear. Dan stood with his arms leaned on the desktop, his eyes staring at the younger man. Phil almost felt sorry for the kid, almost .

“Let’s start from the beginning again, okay? You said you were just getting to bed around the time the crime was committed, yeah? Three in the morning?” Dan spoke softly as he went over the content on the counter, his fingers tapping on the metal rhythmically.

“Yes, sir. I was, uh, getting done with my coursework around that time.”

` “At three A.M?” Phil asked with wide eyes, surprised. “Isn’t that awfully late to be finishing coursework?”

Dan frowned at Phil and shook his head. “No, not from what I remember.”

“Well, you’re a procrastinator. For you, if it isn’t done late at night, it doesn’t get done at all.” Phil turned his attention back to the suspect. “How much did you have?”

“A lot.”

“Define ‘a lot’ for me.” Dan placed his right hand on the table in front of him and leaned forward slightly to get more comfortable. Kyrin shifted in the stiff chair he was sat in.

“I had a last three essays to write -- they all varied in length -- and a bit of honors work.” Kyrin looked down at the table with furrowed brows. “I might’ve had some maths, too?”

“You waited until that night to do all of that coursework?” Phil questioned, he was no foreigner to procrastination but he never put off so much as to cause him to be up till three at the morning. Phil cleared his throat, “Can we got a copy of your essays? Preferably all three.”

Kyrin turned his gaze to his strapped in wrists before wriggling his fingers and glancing back at Dan and Phil. He let out a small, anxious laugh, “I would, but I’m a bit stuck.”

“We could have our lab techs use your hardware drive; it’ll take no more than twenty minutes to find three essays. We do have your laptops in our custody,” Dan mentioned, holding back a grin as he saw the boy squirm in his seat.

“What? You have my laptops?”

“It’s evidence. We have anything we can trace data on.” Dan shrugged. “Why? Are you nervous?”

Kyrin nodded slowly. “Yeah, but not for the reasons you’re probably thinking,” he winced. “My search history isn’t what you might call appropriate.”

“Why is that?” Dan folded his arms across his chest, with a small knowing smile.

“ Oh . Dan, uh, why would you want to clean your history when you were younger?” Phil hinted and shifted in his seat, laughter bubbling out of his lips.

Dan elbowed Phil in the ribs as Phil erupted into more giggles. His smile stayed plastered on his chapped lips. “Why is your browsing history so dirty, Mr. Miller?”

“Is this part of my punishment for doing nothing wrong? At least you two aren’t my mum,” he mumbled, before continuing, “I may have watched more than my fair share of hentai last night.”

“More than you should have so... one clip?” Phil rose his brows in astonishment.

“Don’t act like you’ve never watched hentai, Phil. I’ve used your laptop before.” Dan rolled his eyes. Phil shot Dan a look as his cheeks reddened; he turned away from the suspect to not reveal his vulnerability.

“Aren’t you a bit, uh old to watch that, Mr. Lester?” Kyrin asked, his face red from the topic. Phil made a noise in the back of his throat as he glared at Dan.

“I’ve got a cell block with your name on it, kid. Watch it,” Phil snapped as he sent a deadly look towards his partner.

“Sorry.” The boy laughed and bit his tongue to silence the sounds.

“I think we got a little distracted,” Dan sighed. “So, did you or did you not kill these people?”

“I did not,” Kyrin balled his fists and took a deep breath. “But I send my deepest condolences to their families. What tragedy they must be going through as of now.”

Dan nodded his head in agreement and reached out to grab Phil’s arm lightly. “Can you give us a minute?” Dan asked, not expecting an answer from the boy. He pulled Phil out of the small interrogation room, checking on Kyrin once before shutting the door. He leaned close to the older man. “I don’t think we should be wasting our time on this kid; he obviously didn’t do it.”

“What makes you think that?” Phil asked, squinting his eyes slightly as he looked at the other.

“Based on the data and ideas we’ve collected, it seems to be an older person. Possibly someone who works here,” Dan pressed his lips together. “Besides, did you hear him? He sends his condolences to the families. What kind of murderer would do that?”

“A smart one,” Phil chewed on the inside of his cheek. “We need to consider all possibilities. In all my years working here, it’s rarely the people we least suspect, but sometimes it is. We mustn't take any chances.”

“Phil, his background doesn't match one of a killers. He’s had no traumatizing occurrences, no drug use, no violent past, he’s clean.”

“Therefore he cannot plead insane,” Phil countered. “But that doesn’t make him not a murderer.”

“Babe, you know he’s not our guy. We just need to keep looking.” Dan glanced at the boy in the office, his eyes travelling around the room. “He’s clean; there’s no use wasting our time on him.” Phil glanced at the innocent boy. He knew of his innocence; he just needed more time to plant an imposter.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Maybe,” Dan laughed and placed a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “Shall we go back in there and set him free?”

Phil smirked. “Or maybe we could mess with him a little more?”

“It’s times like these I wonder how they’ve not fired you yet,” Dan mumbled and smacked Phil. “Leave the kid be.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Do you want to go to jail for false accusations?”

“Maybe.”

“I’d not pay your bail.”

“I never expected you to.”

“I hate you.”

15 January, 2016 - 3:36 A.M.

Phil was eager -- he was beyond eager as he awaited for Devin to regain consciousness. He had been dying to be the one to steal Devin’s last breath of air. His hands shook with anticipation as he imagined the suffering screams that he would wring out of a bloodied mouth. Devin shouldn’t have opened his big mouth to voice his opinions a month prior. He also shouldn’t have eaten the sandwich in the office refrigerator specifically labeled as Phil’s.

Phil had waited a longer time than usual as to not arise suspicion. People saw how Devin and he spoke to each other, and if he would have killed him right away, they’d have him figured out in no time. A month later, everyone else probably forgot about their little disagreement, including Devin, but Phil engraved the memory into his mind. Now, he couldn’t wait to watch as Devin’s eyes turned from full of fear to lifeless.

Phil was patient. He learned to observe every second, every movement, and every sound; he learned to absorb the cries of pain. Patience made the bloodshed so much more interesting. He wanted to rewind the tape recorders in his eyes and continue it in slow motion. He wanted to remember the flexing of his tense muscles. He wanted to remember the brutal screams and the sounds of skin being carved. He wanted to slow the sound of dripping blood and liquid tears. He indulged in their pain.

Phil hadn’t decided if he wanted to break into Devin’s home or knock and have manners. He knew there was no one else in Devin’s home to wake. Devin was a low-life with no kids, no partner, and no pets. (Almost as Phil was just a few months before, but at least Phil had a fish to take care of, unlike Baker) So, ultimately Phil decided to do the old, “they-didn’t-see-what-hit-them” trick. Of course, a bat or metal utensil was far too predictable, so he instead slammed Devin’s head into a post in the parking garage (and he cleaned the evidence, of course). He wanted to pull a “destroy the facial structure technique” as he did so, yet he decided torture would be far more pleasing.

Phil looked down at Devin’s unconscious body with a sickening grin. He dragged him over to the pole he used to knock the older man out, and tied him against it. When he was sat upright, but still knocked out, Phil slapped Devin’s cheek hard to wake him. It didn’t work, so he tried something different.

Phil declared Devin would wake up with excruciating pain, which was what he needed. He pulled the sharp, clean knife from his pocket and took Devin’s hand in his own. He lifted Devin’s pinky finger, deciding to work on that one first, and dug his knife into the cubicle of his fingernail, and around the rest of the area, to loosen it up. He was going to rid his coworker of his fingernails to wake him up.

Phil watched as blood gushed from the small wound. Phil peeled back the nail and examined it before flicking it to the ground. It looked like an unpainted fake nail from a nail salon. He observed the still motionless body and started with the ring finger, carving the nail out expertly as he watched the blood drip off his leather gloves. Along he went to the rest of his left hand, coating Devin’s fingernails in metallic blood as he awaited for his consciousness to return. Soon enough muscles began twitching and movement slowly but surely began to appear. Sounds bubbled out of dry lips and and encouraged Phil’s intentions. Phil grazed the knife over the bloodied nailless fingertips, sending jolts of pain through limp limbs.

Devin’s eyelids drooped slightly while his jaw hung drowsily as he tried to focus on what was occurring around him. Phil pushed his finger under Devin’s chin and let out a sickening chuckle. “Look who’s finally awake,” he hissed, letting his American accent falter as he spoke. He gripped Devin’s hair and yanked at it as he covered his lips to prevent him from screaming. Devin’s screams were rendered useless as the texture of the gloves silenced his agony, his eyes screwed shut in pain that never ceased. Phil dug his gloved fingers into Devin’s face as he yanked his face bruised features to face his own, studying the way his purpled skin melted into hues of blue and yellow. He studied the way the bruised skull opened into fresh wounds, dripping dark red down his forehead.

“Y’know, I’ve always noticed that you have such superb hair...” Phil noted as he pulled him closer by the roots of his hair. “Wouldn’t be a shame if anything happened to your pretty little appearance.” Phil let Devin’s hair fall as he reached for his knife, a sickly grin lined his face as he let the knife trail loosely against his victim’s skin. Devin’s eyes widened in fear as the cold metal made contact with his warm skin.

“Your hair is lovely, but I kind of want to see what it would look like hanging above my fireplace.”

Phil wet his lips, lifted Devin’s hair, and quickly swiped the knife across the top of his cranium, revealing bone. Before Devin could scream, Phil quickly covered his mouth so his scream would be muffled by Phil’s gloved hand.

Devin’s breathing became heavy, his limbs relaxed, and his eyelids drooped as he fell into unconsciousness and began to bleed out. But before he drifted into unconsciousness, Phil leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t let his light burn out.”

“You’re cheating. I don’t know how you are but you are.” Dan stared at the screen with his lips set in a permanent scowl, the tallying points rose as quickly as Dan’s gaming ego deflated. Phil remained with his back against the sofa as he watched his character win, his eyes crinkled slightly.

“I thought you said you were good at this game,” Phil commented as he pushed the sleeves of his hoodie up to rest behind his elbows, laughing softly as Dan gaped at the screen.

“I thought I was too.” Dan scratched the top of his head and frowned. “I think you’re distracting me.”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Howell, you probably sucked at this before I got here; don’t use me as an excuse as to why you’re losing.”

“You swear you’ve never played this before?” Dan questioningly rose a brow as his eyes traveled from the screen to Phil. “I just don’t understand why I lost so many times. Maybe my controller is broken.”

“I think the only thing that is broken is your ego.” Phil pointed his controller at his boyfriend and pressed his lips together into a small smile. “Do you want to risk the rest of your ego in the final round or will you save your pride?” Phil teased as he knocked his knee against Dan’s, making the younger boy let out a sound of distaste.

“I hate you.” He muttered out as he clicked play. “Might as well let the rest my ego die with a fight.” A laugh fell from Phil’s lips as he watched the loading bar pixelate onto the screen, the bar stopping and freezing on 80%. “This is a sign from the Gods that we shouldn’t play.” Dan scoffed as he leaned back onto the sofa, letting his head fall onto Phil’s shoulder as they waited.

“Have you no patience?” The man’s chest rumbled as he spoke, his shoulders shifting slightly as his words barreled into the open air.

“None at all.” Dan breathed as he nuzzled his face into Phil’s neck, letting his cologne envelop his senses.

Phil reached for the remote control and turned off the television as Dan had clearly given up on losing whilst the bar was still stuck at 80%. Phil took Dan’s hand in his and rubbed small circle patterns into his skin. Dan let out a tiny content noise and smiled up at Phil as he nudged himself into the older boy more. Phil let his head fall gently onto Dan’s his nose nudging into the soft locks of hair, his eyelashes fluttering against sleep. Dan let out a breath against the skin of Phil’s neck alerting him that he was, in fact, not asleep, yet.

“Wanna go cuddle in the room? I can make you some hot cocoa and we can watch Netflix if you’d like?” Phil offered as he carded his fingers through Dan’s hair with his free hand, watching the yes movement of his head. “Is that a yes to cocoa as well?” His head shook again, this time in a no. “Okay, why don’t you go get comfy and set up Netflix while I put the gaming stuff away. I’ll meet you in there once I’m done.”

Dan pushed himself up from the sofa with a grunt and lifted his arms into a stretch, letting out a massive yawn. He brought an arm down from his stretch and covered his mouth before shuffling into the bedroom. Phil followed suit after pushing himself up as well and placing the controllers on their correct chargers.

By the time Phil entered the room, Dan was cozy under the duvet with his eyes drifted closed and remote control in hand. He must have sensed Phil’s presence because his eyes opened in alarm as he jolted awake. He gazed at the television in front of him as he tried to choose from the many options on Netflix. Phil gazed at the man before him and quickly padded into the room, sitting on the bed before he rolled towards Dan. Dan grinned and turned towards his lover, their noses knocking together as laughter fell from their mouths.

“Welcome back.” Dan smiled and found Phil’s hands, lacing their fingers together.

Phil dipped his brush into the concealer and spread it onto his face, contouring his cheekbones to make them seem more defined and different than his overall face. When his facial structure looked slightly different, he washed his hands and slipped his contacts in. After a month of nothing, he was in need of bloodshed.

Phil looked into the mirror before him and smiled. If he were to rid himself of his iconic black fringe and go out on the town right now, no one would recognize him. He was proud of that. His contouring ability had come so far; he went from looking up how to contour on YouTube to being able to probably make a video of his own -- he looked that great.

Phil easily slid on his blond wig, snuck a quick look in the mirror to make sure it looked okay, and left the bathroom. As the clock struck one in the morning, He was almost ready to leave. Phil tip toed through the the darkly lit hallway, his shadows bouncing off the walls as they seeped into dark corners. His feet moved motionlessly across the hardwood floors as he gathered his things, the sleeping lover in his room still at rest. Guilt seeped through his being as he planned bloodshed before the sleeping eyes of his partner, his hands twitching as he shoved things into his blackened coat. Phil carefully stepped through dirty clothes tossed upon the floor, his heels never touching the hardwood as he made his way through the flat. His hands tightened in his gloves as he grabbed the door handle gently, twisting the knob as quietly as he could since he greased the mechanism a day earlier.

“Hello?” Phil heard a soft, sleepy voice behind him. He didn’t want to turn around and face his boyfriend, but it seemed he had no choice. He cursed himself for not being quieter.

Phil didn’t answer straight away as he pondered what to do. He hadn’t planned for this situation; at least, not like this. He couldn’t decide whether to use his real voice or an American accent, especially because Dan could probably see his blond hair in the moonlight from the window. Tension filled his body as his gloved fingers tightened against the door handle, his shoulders pulled tightly against his frame.

“Phil?” Dan whispered quietly as a switch sounded, the light filling the room made them both squint through their eyelashes. “What are you doing up so late--and why have you got a wig on?” Dan’s voice ran through Phil’s head along with the want to kill, his fingers tightened and then released the handle.

“Dan, go back to bed.” Phil said softly, his confusion filtered throughout his head as it slowly became unbearable to comprehend. “ Please .”

“What are you doing with a wig on?” Dan repeated, his voice wavering as his detective senses kicked in. Phil could almost pinpoint the exact moment Dan had figured it out. His eyes widened. “Are you…?” He couldn’t finish his sentence, but Phil knew full well what he was going to say.

“No,” Phil lied through his teeth, but he didn’t have an alibi as to why he was wearing a blond wig. “No, I’m not. I can’t believe you would think that.” Phil took a step closer to Dan.

“What’s the wig for, then?”

“Don’t worry about it,” He took another step closer toward Dan. “Just go back to sleep.” Dan edged back into the darkened hallway, his hand grazing the walls gently.

“Why is your face contoured, Phil?”

“ Dan .”

“Why do you have fake DNA on you? Fake contacts? Fake hair? Are you playing me?”

“Please, Dan.”

“I worked with you, I fell in love with you, I gave myself to you, and you--you are sneaking around at night specifically at the times that our suspect does their work. And don’t you dare tell me this was the first time. The way you interviewed people, you sounded like you’ve done the crimes before. The way you’ve presented yourself at the crime scenes--you almost seem proud , and I’ve just now made the connection and I feel like an imbecile .”

Phil’s knife felt heavy in his hand as he witnessed the fear that painted across Dan’s face, the heartbreak he had felt at the very moment he saw his lover in the moonlight. Dan was in Phil’s long shirt, his hands cringing away from the material as he realized what he was wearing. The disgust that spread across his features pained Phil, he never wanted this to happen. He knew that this relationship was a risk, he had hoped that he made the right decision. He should’ve never let Dan in.

Dan was crying. Tears rolled down his cheeks like raindrops on a window.

Phil took another step toward Dan. He gripped the knife in his hand, squeezing the handle between his fingers. Phil compressed his tears, though he knew he couldn’t do it for much longer.

“You are a coward.” Dan didn’t bother to wipe the tears rolling down his cheeks. “I can’t believe I was so foolish.”

Another step.

Phil didn’t say anything.

Dan kept talking. “So what are you going to do? Kill me?” he scoffed. “Like you did to Devin? Or Craig? Or Linda? Or any of the others? Did you even care about me?”

Another step.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Dan scoffed again. “No you’re not. Those people had lives , Phil. They had children, parents, siblings, lovers, and friends . They had people who were brokenbecause of you . You took something that wasn’t yours to take.”

“ Stop .”

“Stop?” Dan hissed out. “You think you have the audacity to tell me to stop? You’re nothing but a killer. I fell in love with you! I trusted you! How dare you put me through your sick monstrosities.” Dan gripped at his hair, hot tears falling down his skin.

“I really don’t want to do this,” Hot tears rolled down Phil’s cheeks, smearing his perfect contour as he unearthed the knife. It glistened in the shimmering moonlight. He took another step toward Dan.

Dan’s eyes widened at the sight of the blade. He let out a breathy, unconvinced laugh. “Are you going to kill me? You’re fucking pathetic .”

Phil moved towards Dan, his hands holding him against the wall as hot tears glistened down his skin. His knife hung loosely from his fingertips, the blade pressed against the wall as Phil pressed himself against Dan. His weight keeping Dan still as they wept.

“You’re actually going to kill me?” Dan choked on a sob, his limbs struggling against the weight, rendering himself useless. “Phil, I was in love with you. You became my everything and to you I meant nothing.” Dan dropped his head with a shattered laugh. “ You were my everything .”

“ Please , please stop making this so hard, please. Stop making me hurt like this . ” Phil pressed his head between his arms and Dan’s neck. “I let you in. Why did you make me do that? Why did you do that ?” Phil swallowed, almost gagging on his guilt.

“Just do it. Kill me already. That would hurt less .” Dan’s jaw clenched and unclenched, his face shining with tears. His eyes were set cold on the man in front of him, the man he didn’t know.

“Dan, I love you. I love you so much.” Phil gasped out and put his forehead against Dan’s; the disgust in the brown eyes stung. “I love you so fucking much--I risked my bloodshed for you. I wanted to be with you.” Dan flinched as hot breaths hit his face, tears boiling over the bags under his eyes. Phil brought a hand to the man’s face, his fingers grazing every feature that sculpted Dan’s face. A knife pressed against the concealed veins in Dan’s neck, his swallows stopping short above the blade.

“The funny thing is,” Dan winced and tried desperately to find space to move his head. “I always thought you were the one for me. Funny how feelings work, huh?”

“ Shut up !” Phil sobbed. “You weren’t supposed to love me, Dan, you were supposed to back away from me. You were supposed to find someone else; you weren’t supposed to die.” Phil sucked in a breath. “I promised this to myself. I promised .” The blade pressed further, the skin reddening under its pressure.

“Even after this, I wouldn’t be able to make myself not love you.” Dan broke, a forced smile filled with tears. “I’ll still love you.” His chest shook with sobs, eyes clenched with pain as a blade was forced upon his skin. “I’ll always love you.”

“Daniel Howell, I’m so helplessly in love with you.” The blade seeped through skin and gently hit the back of the wall.

“It’s okay, Phil. Wake up,” a distressed voice spoke. It was Dan. Hands gripped Phil’s torso as he tried to shake him awake. “It’s okay.”

Phil’s face was wet.

“It was just a dream,” Dan explained, bringing his hand up to push the sweaty fringe away from Phil’s forehead. “It’s not real.”

Phil’s eyes fluttered open to find a smiling Dan above him, stroking his face. Phil’s stomach churned; it hurt to look at him. If only he knew. Phil turned his head away from Dan’s face.

“Hey, babe, look at me. You’re okay. You’re safe.” Dan’s fingers gently wiped away the tears that soaked Phil’s face. “I’m here.” Dan’s hand held Phil’s face gently as Phil blinked away tears. Dan was, again, just in Phil’s long sweater and boxers; his messy hair stood in different directions as he leaned over Phil. Phil wanted to cry all over again.

“ Dan .” was all that Phil could choke out before he broke down in tears again, automatically pulling himself up to cling onto Dan’s existence.

“Woah, hey you’re okay. I’m here. I’m here .” Dan held onto Phil gently as he kissed the top of his head, gently rocking their bodies in comfort. His nose buried itself into Phil’s hair as he spoke. “Breathe, just breathe okay? Little breaths first, you’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Phil did as he was told. He breathed in and out, and in and out, listening to Dan coach him through, until his pace was normal.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Phil shook his head. What was he supposed to say? Oh yeah, I had a dream where I killed you, and also I love you?

“Okay,” Dan pulled Phil closer to him, wrapping his warm arms around Phil’s bare torso. It was supposed to make him feel safe, and Phil appreciated the thought, but unfortunately after his recent nightmare, being comforted by Dan was the worst thing that could have happened. “I think talking about it might help, though. I won’t push you to.”

Phil squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to get away from Dan.

“I’ll be back,” Phil croaked, untangling himself from Dan’s limbs and sliding out from under the duvet. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

Phil stumbled from the bed and practically ran into the bathroom, his heart racing as he shoved the door shut. His hands gripped the white sink counter as he ran cold water, the image in the mirror was something he’d rather ignore. Phil took a breath and splashed cold water onto his face to calm himself and his shaking hands. The water dripped down his shirt, momentarily staining the material a darker hue. His hands still shook as he pressed a dry towel to his face, pushing his sweaty fringe up.

Dan was sat on the bed, holding his head in his hands as he waited for Phil. The uneasiness he felt was overwhelming. He wanted Phil to tell him what got him so worked up.

When Phil left the bathroom, he decided to avoid Dan a little longer by starting a pot of coffee and a batch of toast. He unwrapped the bread and slid it into the toaster. He wasn’t very hungry, but he figured that maybe eating would make the empty feeling in his stomach go away.

It didn’t.

Phil chewed on the dry toast with a frown. His stomach didn’t feel better, it just felt worse. He tossed it onto the plate with a sigh and poured himself another cup of coffee. He turned around to find Dan standing behind him in the doorway.

“I know, I’m sorry, I said I wouldn’t ask, but what has got you so riled up, Phil. I truly think talking about it would make you feel so much better,” Dan scratched the back of his neck and let out a small laugh. “Besides, it’s not like you killed me or anything.” Phil’s hands gripped the coffee mug. His eyes scanned over Dan’s -- his -- sweater and the vivid memory flashed before him. The blood. The knife. The three words.

“You need to change,” Phil choked out. “ Please .”

Dan’s eyebrows rose and he nodded his head and slowly turned back around, Phil was bothered and he was to do anything he could to make him more comfortable. Phil shakily put his mug down and leaned his weight on the counter, he needed to calm down. Phil breathed to himself as he waited for Dan to return.

“Is this better?” Dan exchanged his sweater for an old t-shirt and slipped on a pair of sweats.

“Yes.” Phil chewed on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Phil, it’s alright, dreams can seem very vivid and clothing can be a part of that. I understand.” Dan slowly approached Phil and took his hands in his own, his thumb rubbing circles over Phil’s.

Phil tried to change the subject. “I made you toast,” he said, referring to the one and a half pieces of toast still left in front of him. “And coffee.”

“Thank you.” Dan smiled and made his way toward the coffee pot.

Phil nodded and sipped at the warm liquid, trying to repress the nightmare he had the night before. He didn’t understand why it was affecting him so much. It was only a dream and he’d done worse to people he didn’t care about in real life . The key phrase to his dilemma was ‘ didn’t care about’ .

“Dan,” Phil spoke, his words getting trapped in his throat like a caged bird. “Uh, you mean a lot to me.” Jagged words fell from his mouth as they were stopped short by his own lips.

“Hey, you mean a lot to me too.” Dan smiled softly, his cheeks slowly reddened as he sipped from his porcelain coffee mug. Phil nodded quickly and bowed his head towards the floor, vivid memories of Dan’s words panicked him. You were my everything . His mug crashed to the floor.

“Phil, hey are you okay?” Dan pushed himself up from his chair and gently kicked away shards of glass with his foot, which wasn’t the safest of options but he did it anyway. He reached for a towel and placed it on the floor, using his foot to move the wetting towel. Phil stayed still his hands frozen in a clasped position as if his mug was still safely between his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Phil muttered and looked down at the shattered glass.

“It’s okay,” Dan pushed the towel around with his foot. “You didn’t do it on purpose. Do you think maybe you might need to lie down? Go back to sleep?”

“No!” Phil shouted, louder than he’d originally meant to. He shook his head and repeated himself softly, “No, no I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?” Dan picked the towel up from the ground and threw it in the bin.

“I can’t do that to you, I can’t do that.”

Phil couldn’t go back to sleep. He was afraid that if he went back to sleep, he’d kill Dan again and he couldn’t live through that. Not again. He couldn’t risk the chances of it happening.

“Would you like to go out and do something? Or stay home and do something? To keep your mind off things.” Dan offered as he brushed up the glass, swiftly shoveling it into the trash.

“Stay home, please. Can we just cuddle?” Phil said softly as he watched Dan brush the glass into the bin. Dan stood and put the bin back, shoving the handle brush into a cabinet.

“Of course. We could watch some Disney movies all day if you’d like?” Dan smiled at Phil and held out a hand, which Phil delicately grabbed. He was still cautious -- still put off.

“Thank you for understanding.” Phil chewed on his lip before continuing. “The dream was very realistic and truly startled me.” Phil gently laced his fingers with Dan’s.

“I understand,” Dan squeezed Phil’s hand lightly. “When I was twelve, I had this awful dream where my parents made me feast on my beloved hamster, Suki. It was so disturbing, I didn’t interact with my parents for days.”

Phil gave Dan a small smile. He wished his dream involved consuming his nonexistent hamster because it’d hurt him so much less. He couldn’t figure out why he killed Dan. It was so vivid. He could still hear the sound of the knife cutting through Dan’s flesh.

“Why don’t you go get under the duvet while I make you another coffee?” Dan suggested to break the silence.

Phil nodded. “Okay,” he said softly and hesitantly let Dan’s hand go. “Okay.” he repeated.

Phil let out a small breath as he padded towards the bedroom, nearly collapsing in the bed from exhaust. His face fell into the fluffy comforter and he breathed in the scent of Dan’s lingering cologne. The mix of spices and vanilla comforted him in ways he couldn’t explain to anyone. Phil blindly reached for the rest of the duvet, lazily pulling it over him to achieve maximum laziness. To others, he looked as if he were the duvet. Footsteps slowly began to echo through the quiet hallway as Phil remained cosy in the blankets, the heat filling him with calmness.

“Phil?” Dan walked into the room, his hands full of snacks and coffee. “Phil,” He drawed out the ‘l’ as he set the contents on the bedside table. Phil shuffled around through the covers until he was able to pop his head out, smiling lazily at Dan.

“I’m ready to watch some Disney movies,” Phil confirmed, pulling the duvet closer to himself (if that was even possible).

“Me too,” Dan said, handing Phil the hot drink and dumping the snacks onto the bed. He slid under the covers next to Phil. “Me too.”

“So,” Dan began. “We heard you may have some information for us, Miss, uh, Gloria Cueves, is it?”

The woman nodded her head and folded her small hands across the table. She pressed her lips together firmly before answering audibly, “Yes, that would be correct,” She had a strong Spanish accent when she spoke. “And it is Cueves . You are supposed to pronounce every vowel.”

“Got it,” Dan smiled, making note of the pronunciation on his clipboard. “Thank you.”

“Would you mind confirming some things with us?” Phil asked, taking the pencil from behind his ear and pressing it to the notepad in front of him.

“What do you need to know?” she questioned, a thin eyebrow raised.

“You said that you’ve discovered information pertaining to this case, correct?” Dan questioned as he clasped his hands together, resting them on the table.

“Yes, that is correct.” The woman said, her accent thickening ever so slightly.

“Can you tell us what you’ve learned, ma’am?” Phil tapped his pencil lightly on the paper, the sound echoing in the small room.

“I witnessed the latest murder from my car window -- I was too shocked to think straight.” The woman rubbed her hands together. “It was so horrific; I was frozen as I helplessly watched.”

“Why were you out so late?” Dan asked the woman suspiciously.

“I was just returning home from work. I live in one of the apartments right across the street from the scene of the murder.”

“Where do you work?” Phil questioned as he scribbled her last answer on the paper in front of him.

“I’m a nanny,” Gloria replied calmly as she clasped her hands. “Mostly I work with the Hummingtons, but I bounce around, sometimes waitressing among other things. It’s a bit hard to keep a living on babysitting money, you know?”

Dan nodded his head as Phil quickly and absentmindedly wrote her response down.

“Did you, uh, see anyone or anything of significance that night?”

“Remember, no detail is too small.” Dan intervened before she could answer. Dan reached his hand out and adjusted the voice recorder so it was certain to catch everything she said.

“I’m absolutely horrendous with details, but I guess I’ll give it a go…” Gloria spoke nervously, her brow turned down to a frown. Her long red painted fingernails tapped anxiously against her thigh as she spoke. “He was quite tall, definitely over six feet, and dressed in all black. He most likely didn’t want to be seen by anyone -- smart guy, I’d assume.”

“Do you remember anything else?”

“He was in the house for a very long time, probably two hours. I didn’t want to move from my car. Late at night in London with strange men lurking around is never something women want to experience. I’d never seen him before and--”

“You’re saying this person was male?”

“Yes, sir. Most women are not over six feet tall, so it’s very likely that the murderer was male.”

Phil scribbled something down on his yellow notepad. Dan urged Gloria to continue.

“Are there any other details of the suspect that you can recall, ma’am?” Phil questioned with a pencil between his teeth; he wasn’t worried. He wasn’t worried.

“Let me think a moment,” The women rubbed at her temples, her acrylic nails pulling at dark strands of hair. The women strained to recall any significant detail, her memory was slightly flawed considering the fact that she was half asleep at the time of the scene. “All I can recall is the figure of over six feet, and the broad shoulders indicate a manlier subject?”

“Thank you for the help ma’am; if you can recall anything else please call us as soon as possible, as it would be crucial to the case.” Dan decided to end it there, the lady was nearly in tears and he himself had had a long day. He slid a card to Gloria, inscripted upon the card was him and Phil’s names along with their numbers. “Get some rest, okay? Thank you for your time and cooperation.”

Phil’s eyes followed the women out of the room, his fingers tapping on the table, she needs to go . His eyes flickered to her personal information enclosed in the orange envelope within his reach. She needs to go . Phil grabbed the files and slid it into his bag with an excuse of, I have more research to do, Dan . Phil zipped his bag and flung it over his shoulders, grabbing his mug of coffee from the table top. The words rung in his head over and over, she needs to go.

Six months later, Dan and Phil were still working hard on the case, keeping eyes out for even the tiniest details at crime scenes, and interviewing more and more people, day after day to get the information they needed. (Although Dan and Phil were not personally doing the interviewing, their co-workers were -- which was unfortunate for Phil.) Sadly, the still unknown suspect murdered three more people -- two being coworkers, Ansh Patel and Lynn Ji, as well as the young woman, Gloria Cueves, the men had interviewed before. All the murders had their own cruel, unique spin on them, the killer never seemed to disappoint those working on the case with his brilliant ideas.

As they tried to connect the pieces, the detectives realized it was like a puzzle with several different pieces missing. It didn’t entirely make sense.

Fortunately, Dan and Phil’s relationship was thriving and making sense. For the most part, if Phil wasn’t sleeping over at Dan’s house, Dan was at his. They were infatuated with each other and every person who had a brain could put two and two together; they were in love .

And Phil was afraid. Phil was so petrified that he was giving so much of himself to his partner in crime, but he stopped caring. Phil was in love, Dan was in love, they were experiencing so much love they felt like they were going to explode. It felt like nothing could ever come between them.

And that’s why Phil asked Dan to move in with him.

“Phil, could you unpack the case work please?”

Phil glanced over his shoulder, a smile crept onto his face as his eyes caught the light reflect off Dan’s engagement ring. His mind felt clear and free of worry and anxiety.

“Maybe,” Phil teased and kicked the door shut behind him. He placed the last box down. “What do I get in return if I do?”

Dan shuffled some documents inside one of the cardboard boxes and smirked. “Maybe some new information about this case. We’ve been working on it for months and we’ve hardly got a thing.” He sighed. “We need answers.”

Phil made his way over to Dan, smiling softly, and wrapped his arms around his fiance’s torso. He nuzzled into Dan’s neck. “It’s going to be okay,” Phil whispered into Dan’s warm skin. “We’ll find answers, don’t stress too much, yeah?”

“We’ve been on this case for so long, I feel like I'm inadequate to continue with it. We usually catch our suspects within the first two months of their first go, at least .” Dan closed his eyes as he let out a breath. “I’m very aware that this criminal is good, but damn I feel like I’ve lost my ‘touch’.” Phil let out a breathy laugh and tightened his arms around Dan.

“You sure as hell haven’t lost your ‘touch’, we’re dealing with a class A killer here -- it’s not supposed to be easy.” Dan leaned back onto his lover slightly.

“An A case killer who’s been on the streets for over six months and counting; people must think we suck at our jobs.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case. We’ll get him, I promise. And hey, maybe we’ll be the first gay investigators to do so? Picture that on the paper.” Phil grinned and placed a kiss behind Dan’s ear.

Dan rolled his eyes. “How inclusive.”

“How many other detectives can say they solve crimes with their partner?” Phil asked, embracing Dan tighter.

“All of them,” Dan giggled, turning his head slightly to look at Phil.

“Okay, let me rephrase that,” Phil chuckled at himself, realizing his mistake. “How many other detectives can say they solve crimes with their fiance ?”

“Not as many,” Dan replied, an eyebrow raised slightly at the idea. “I think I like the sound of that.”

“You know what else I like the sound of?” Phil smiled. “Dan Howell-Lester.”

“Me too,” Dan nudged his head into Phil’s. “I like it a lot.” Phil smiled brightly and peppered the side of Dan’s face with little pecks.

“Only forty-two more days till the wedding.”

Only forty-two days, only forty-two days...

A week later, Dan and Phil were busy with wedding plans. ‘ I won’t allow you to put this off and procrastinate like you do everything else, Howell,’ Phil had told his fiance as he threw a booklet at him, ordering him to choose. It was for the flowers, with several types already circled. Dan thumbed through it, getting way more interested in the copious amounts of flowers than he’d originally thought he would have.

Dan pointed to the white roses with an eyebrow raised. “How come these aren’t circled?”

Phil glanced up from behind his papers and shrugged. “I circled the red ones.”

“Why not the white ones?” Dan asked again.

“Didn’t want them,” Phil shrugged again, going back to his planning. He was almost done with the guest list. “I liked the red ones better, I guess.”

Dan rose his brows in confusion. “How could you like the red ones better than the white ones?”

Phil tapped his pencil against the paper and sighed. “I don’t know, Dan, how could you like the white ones better than the red roses?”

“Because they’re obviously so much prettier,” Dan said matter-of-factly. “Anyone with eyes can see that.”

“The red are more prominent.” Phil mentioned as he read through papers.

“The white are more elegant, they’d look absolutely stunning against any color tux.” Dan offered with an eyebrow raised.

“Do you even have your tux figured out?” Phil teased and looked up at Dan.

“Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t. Though I still say we should go with the white roses.” Dan bit at the end on his pencil, letting it hang from between his teeth.

“Dan.”

“Phil.”

“Fine, you can have your stupid white roses,” Phil gave in. “But I get to choose the first dance song.”

“Deal, I was probably going to choose All Star by Smash Mouth anyway,” Dan grinned. “So, when is the cake testing? I’m looking forward to that.” He patted his stomach and chuckled.

“Next Saturday,” Phil replied as he scribbled something out on the piece of paper and rewrote it. “We also need to figure out what we’re going to have on our cake.”

“Who knew wedding planning could be so stressful?” Dan sighed as he reached for one of the pamphlets sprawled out on the table.

“Right,” Phil agreed with a laugh. “We should have considered a courthouse wedding. In the meantime, do you have any ideas?”

“For what?” Dan asked, suddenly absorbed by the pamphlet he was flipping through -- it was for cakes. His mouth watered.

“Our cake, dimwit.”

“Oh yeah,” Dan replied. “Any of these will do.” He pointed to the entire page of cakes.

“I like red velvet,” Phil hinted as he pointed it out on the paper. He raised a brow, “What do you think?”

“I think I want to taste a shitload of cake,” Dan grinned. “Then I’ll decide.”

“Fair enough,” Phil chuckled softly, adjusting his glasses as he went back to preparing the guestlist.

02 August 2016 - 11:11 A.M.

Phil kneeled softly onto the floor of their shared room, his hands diving under the bed searching for his ‘ personal items ’. His hands seemed to shake as his fingers skimmed over the small tucked away box; he slid it out from underneath the bed and dragged his fingers over the duct taped seal. He shouldn’t be doing this . His heart sped up as he recalled blood curling screams and the smell of blood from past memories, his hands began to shake more violently. Dan doesn’t have to know. Phil could easily be finished with his work before his lover even woke -- he glanced up at Dan. The darkness formed shadows that fell onto Dan’s features, his fringe tangled in different directions from his movement. His arm lay loosely around a pillow where Phil usually slept. Phil looked away.

“I’m sorry.” Phil muttered, his fingers curling around the edges of the box as he stood. His heart pounded in his ears as he slipped from the bedroom and disappeared into the hallway.

Perhaps Phil should have known that eleven in the morning was way too early to shed blood, especially in London, but it didn’t quite cross his mind as he slipped the coloured contacts into his eyes. Maybe he should have learned from the dream not to do this anymore, to hang up the wig and be finished, especially after moving in with Dan, but his clean hands yearned for the feeling of taking someone’s life away.

Phil had become numb to his emotions, but now he was feeling them all at once and it terrified him. He constantly felt anxious and afraid. Anxious Dan would somehow find him, like in the dream. Anxious Dan would discover his murder kit and put the two and two together. Anxious that if Dan ever knew, he would run away. Anxious that Dan would fall out of love with him.

It didn’t stop Phil’s fucked up actions, though, as he pulled on the blond wig, just as he did in the dream.

“Phil?” A confused, sleepy voice said. Dan . “What are you doing?” the figure yawned as he tried to take in the mess before him. It was all too repetitive.

A lump pushed it’s way into Phil’s throat. He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t answer. It was almost like he swallowed a rock, no, a boulder .

“Phil, what’re you doing?” Dan questioned, again, repetitive . Everything was repetitive . “Have you got a wig on--” His words cut short as the light switch clicked on, Dan saw blond hair on top of Phil’s black and the leather gloves tucked neatly in a box. “Phil--”

“This isn’t happening, this can’t be happening-- this can’t come true, it’s impossible--” Phil clenched his jaw, his ears ringing inside his head. His breath fell from his nose heavily, the sound of his heavy breathing seemed to echo in their house. Their house .

“Are you -- what’s going on, Phil?” Dan let his hand drop from the light switch, his eyes squinting against the light.

“I knew this was a bad idea, I knew this was a bad idea . But you pushed yourself in and I let you. Why the hell did I let you?” Phil stayed still, frozen, his face staring at the door in front of him. He could run . He could run and never come back . “Maybe I had this idea, this theory , that you’d still love me. Even after you found out… like in the dream, the dream that you were worried about. How could I be so stupid.” It came out more as a statement than a question.

“Phil, talk to me. I’m here, it’s okay,” Dan said softly, his own fear keeping him still, he knew. He already knew .

“Stop.” Pathetic. “Please let this be a dream--”

“This isn’t a dream, I’m here, Phil. I’m here .” His heart pounded under his skin, his hand lay still, too still, at his side. He knew he had an escape, but he knew he wouldn’t make it. Dan accepted that.

“I know who you are,” Dan said in a whisper, barely taking a step back. Phil didn’t notice. “I know what you are.” Another step, Dan had trained himself for this moment. “I know what you’ve done.” Panic. He was starting to panic. “I have known…”

“Stop--” Phil choked on his words, he couldn’t do this, but he had to do this . “Why, why didn’t you--”

“I couldn’t.” Dan swallowed thickly; he was telling the truth. He never wanted this to happen. He loved Phil, yet he didn’t want to believe what he’d done. He didn’t want to believe that. “I figured it out a long time ago, but I’m scared of you, Phil. I’m so fucking scared. Scared of what you’d do to me if you knew that I knew.”

“If you knew, why did you agree to marry me?” Phil could hardly look at Dan, he couldn’t face the hurt on his lover’s face, so he stared at the floor.

“God dammit, Phil, I love you. I’m terrified of what you really are, but I love the person you are when you’re with me. You can’t -- You can’t just leave someone like that.”

“You should’ve, Dan! You should’ve left.”

“You would have killed me anyway, Phil. I was biding my time.” Dan let out a shaky breath, taking another miniscule step backwards.

“I wouldn’t have, I wasn’t -- you weren’t involved with me then.”

“We’ve been involved for years.”

Silence.

“All the times I said ‘I hate you’... I don't know if I was lying.”

“Shut up,” Phil hissed, his eyes flickering down to the way Dan’s feet shuffled backwards on the floor. “Did you even love me? Or were you lying then, too?” Phil responded bitterly, his face portraying a look of hurt.

Dan chewed nervously on his bottom lip. “I did love you, until I found out,” he let out a harsh laugh, “It’s hard to be in love with someone when you’re terrified of their every movement.”

“I’m in love with you, Dan.” Phil barely lifted his voice above a mumble.

“Don’t say that.” Dan inhaled deeply, “You can’t say that when you’re about to kill me.”

“Don’t act like I want to.” Phil clenched his jaw, his hands shaking slightly. He reached for the knife.

“But you’re going to,” Dan scoffed, his throat closing around his words. “Why’re you so afraid?”

“I never wanted your blood on my hands, Dan.” Phil was in front of Dan, close enough to see the tears threatening to fall.

“Then don’t . You can change, Phil.”

“I can’t, Dan, you don’t understand that I can’t.” Phil reached out for Dan, Dan flinched and pressed himself against the wall. Repetitive.

“You’re a coward; you’re just a pathetic coward,” Dan spit out and Phil took a step back hurt before he took another step closer, his hands shoving Dan in the chest. A smack sounded in the hallway as Dan’s head made contact with the wall.

“Shut up,” Phil growled and pinned Dan against the wall, his hands gripping his skin tightly. “I tried to keep you safe! Everything I did was to keep you safe!” Phil yelled and saw Dan’s eyes clench together in pain, blood trickled down Dan’s neck.

“You have the audacity to say you tried to keep me safe? Are you fucking shitting me?” Dan argued back. “You’re a bloodthirsty criminal!” Dan winced at his own voice. “I’m in love with you, Phil! I gave all of me to you!”

“ Stop !” Phil hissed out.

“Don’t you dare tell me to stop, dammit, Phil! Everything I did was to keep you safe!” Dan sucked in a breath. “I kept you safe -- all the crime scenes -- they never found anything because I never let them.” Dan’s voice softened, his throat closing up on him.

“Bullshit.” Phil’s knife felt heavy in his hands. “You’re lying.”

“Why do you think I was always working on the case? I had to keep people from finding out. I had to keep all evidence pointing to you away from the labs. I knew that you’d kill anyone that got hold of it, and I had to protect them. I had to protect myself!” Dan’s voice shattered in his own mouth, a tear slipping from his eye. “I guess it doesn’t matter now, though, because you’re gonna kill me either way. Either fucking way. Do it already, I fucking dare you.”

“This is never going to be easy, Dan.” Phil swallowed thickly. “I’m always going to be in love with you.”

“Stop,” Dan yelled, his voice shaking as he spilled his emotions. “I can’t believe I was -- I can’t believe even after everything I--.” Phil’s hands loosened slightly, enough for Dan to escape but he didn’t even attempt to move. “I hate you. I hate you with a burning passion. I hate you!” Dan didn’t try to hold back the sob that left his lips, his body slumped against the wall in defeat. It doesn’t matter, you’re gonna kill me either way. You’re gonna kill me either way. You’re gonna kill me -- Phil clenched his jaw, unclenched his jaw, and then clenched it once more.

“I wanted to marry you, Daniel. I wanted to wake up next to you in bed everyday of the rest of my life. I wanted to love you for the rest of my life. Why -- why couldn’t you’ve stayed asleep?” Dan shook his head, tears falling rapidly off his skin. “I won’t kill you if you tell me you love me.”

“I’m sorry...” Dan choked out, his whole body beginning to shake in fear. “I can’t do that. I can’t say that.”

“Stop, please. Just tell me, just--” Phil held back the tears pooling in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry--” Phil held Dan close to him, the boy’s body shook against his as guilt swarmed in Phil’s head. He felt like he couldn’t say the words ‘I’m sorry’ enough. Phil’s fingers wrapped around the base of the knife, the reflection of Dan’s sobbing body was mirrored on the blade. This is just like the dream, the dream he was so terrified of was becoming real. He held onto Dan tighter, the younger boy gripping onto Phil like it was his last breath.

“I can’t tell you -- I--” Dan struggled to get the words out through his cries. “I hate you, I hate you. I hate you so fucking much. ”

“Please, Dan,” Phil pleaded, as his fingers gripped the blade tightly. “Just tell me you love me, too,” He gulped. “And then I won’t have to kill you.”

“No,” Dan clenched his teeth; his watery, fear filled eyes screamed. “I would rather die, than say I’m in love with a monster like you.” a tear fell from his eyes, only this time it was Phil’s as he plunged the blade into Dan’s stomach. A choked noise came from Dan as he slipped slowly through Phil’s arms, Phil lowered his body to the ground, gently. His own body following Dan to the floor Dan choked on his air, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Dan lay on the floor as blood pooled around the knife protruding from his stomach. Short breaths fell rapidly from his lips, a hint on blood lying inside his mouth. Guilt swarmed Phil as Dan reached for Phil in shock, his stomach moving rapidly to try and breathe well. Phil sobbed out and clung to Dan’s body, his hands pressing on the wound to stop blood flow.

“I’m so sorry -- fuck -- you’re gonna be okay, okay? I’m so sorry--” Phil held Dan’s face in his other hand, watching the tears hit his fingers.

“H-How could you, Phil?” Dan winced and let out short breaths, the pain dizzying him. . He didn’t actually think Phil would do it. His eyes fluttered rapidly, his vision blurred with tears. “You’re -- I hate you” .Dan tried to laugh bitterly but he only winced once more. Phil panicked as he lifted Dan from the ground, he’s going to be okay, he’s going to be okay --

“Don’t touch me!” Dan argued and weakly pushed Phil’s hands away. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

“I’m trying to help you, I’m trying to--”

“You’re trying t -- you’re trying to kill me. Fuck you ,” Dan’s voice was soft, a raspy whisper, weaker than intended. “I hate--” he paused and took in a sharp breath before finishing, “--you.”

No. No, those couldn’t be his last words. They couldn’t be his last words to Phil. Phil had always imagined them being eighty-five, grey receding hair and wrinkled skin saying the last words ‘ I love you’. What had he done?

Phil tried to wipe some of the blood away with the hem of his shirt, but it was hopeless.

Phil collapsed against Dan’s still body, hoping to feel the familiar rise and fall of his fiance’s chest, only to find nothing.

When Phil had collected himself enough to think clearly, he realized he had to go to the hospital. He picked up Dan’s body, remembering Dan’s words ‘ I hate you .’ He shook that away with the slim chance of maybe someone being able to help him.

Phil arrived at the hospital at 2:22 P.M.

He begged the nurses, doctors, anyone to help his fiance. He gave them no details as to why he was in such bad condition, but instead pushed Dan at them, though he knew there was nothing they could do. Dan was dead, and there was no reviving him.

Overcome with the guilt, Phil arrived at the Police Station at 4:43 P.M., drenched in blood. In his coat, his fingers grasped the trigger of a pistol.

He spoke calmly and directly to the officers, “My name is Phil Lester and I killed Dan Howell.”

At 4:44 P.M, Phil pulled out the gun.

It sounded.

It was all a dream, It was all a dream it was all a dream --

Only this time, Phil didn’t wake up.

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