E D I T E D

yes Fall Out Boy whatyougonnadoaboutitm8fiteme

this one-shot took quite a while to write i'm so sorry that i couldn't put it up sooner :// also, i squawked very loudly when i found out that we have 30k views ahhhhh you guysss (/.\)<3 (i feel like every bloody author's note is just me apologising and thanking over and over, sorry) hey, at least I updated :D

i'll update a nicer one-shot next time. this was pretty emotional to write ngl.

Death of a Bachelor is so good i criiiii

anyway, I hope you enjoy this oneshot!! 

warnings: homophobia and homophobic slurs, mentions of sexual abuse (please don't read the part if you're uncomfortable and/or have had horrible past experiences with sexual abuse, stay strong <33) physical fighting, blood, drunk people, swearing, a lot of fire (light em up up up light em up up up light em up up up DAN IS ON FIREEEEE) and many emotions : )))

words: 5988 (which is like two times as much as I normally write ahhhhhh)

~Phil's POV~

5 and 7 years old

"Mummm? Why are people coming over?"

"Oh,  they're only our neighbours silly. They have a son, two years, three years younger than you, I think? Oh, I hope you'll be good friends!" My mum gave me a warm smile as she stirred the cookie dough in the bowl.

"You know I don't really like making friends, mum."

"Oh, it'll be fine. Here, you can lick the bowl. The Howell's will be coming over soon."

"Are they werewolves or something? Cool! I wanna be friends with a werewolf! We can kill vampires toge-"

"No, of course not dear."

"Oh. What are they then? Are they half dogs? Or are they real dogs? Or human dogs? Dogs that can speak?"

My mum rolled her eyes fondly and chuckled as we sat in silence, me licking the spoon with the cookie dough and mum looking through her phone when the oven pinged meaning that the cookies were done.

"Would you like to help me wash up Philip?"

"Okay."

I finished licking my spoon and started washing it, a bowl and other various objects.

The doorbell rang and made me jump, simultaneously making me flail my arms and hit my hand on the still very hot cookie tray.

"Owwww ow ow o w owowwowww!!!" I whisper-yelled, shaking my arm up and down vigorously.

"Hello Mr and Mrs Howell! Hello Daniel. Philip!" Mum called, "Come and meet the Howells!"

Sort of ignoring my burning hand, I ran to the door, clutching it and hiding it behind my back.

"Hello, Mr and Mrs."

"Aww, isn't he just precious! Hello Philip!" Mrs Howell cooed, squeezing my cheek. I smiled as she let go of my cheek, the burn on my hand growing more and more painful.

"You can call me Phil if you'd like, Missus."

"Aww, so polite!" She absolutely fawned over me. As she leaned over to hug me, I noticed a small figure behind her and next to Mr Howell. I'm guessing that's their son, Daniel.

After she released me and went inside with the rest of the family, I went up to the small boy.

"Hello, my name's Phil!" I beamed at him, my hand now reaching levels of excruciating pain.

"Hi," he gave me a small wave, "My name is Dan," he said in a small, cute voice, shyly looking down at the floor and fiddling with his sleeves.

"Nice to meet you Dan." I grimaced as I smiled at him as my hand felt like it was going to fall off of my arm. I poked his cheek with the burning arm. "Hey, you're not a dog. Or a werewolf. Hmm."

"What happened to your hand?" He asked me quietly, indicating with his small chubby finger.

"I burnt it on the cookie tray." I said waving it around.

"I hope it gets better soon." He reached out and took my hand in his, delicately kissing the red burnt spot on my hand.

"Mummy said that kissing boo-boos always made them better," and he gave me a large toothy grin, exposing a dimple on his cheek. I poked his dimple.

Suddenly my hand didn't hurt so much.

And in the end, I'd do it all again, I think that this could be the start of a good friendship.

13 and 15 years old

"OI! What you looking at, you emo faggot?" Someone yelled a distance away.

I recognised that voice. Sam Salt or whatever weird condiment his last name was. Sugar? Nahh, he's far from sweet.

"Shove off, Sam." Someone mumbled walking past him with, what seemed, a quickened pace, their footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

"Hey, boys. D'ya hear that? Mr. Emo Faggot Face just told me to shove off! Oi, take it back, gay boy. Not too scared are you? Too much of a girl to stand up to me? Too much of a wuss? Hey, boys. Go give 'im a good one."

His minions, Crabbe and Goyle or something stupid like that, sauntered over to him. I heard a whimper as someone got pushed into the lockers.

I hastily turned the corner and saw my friend Dan receive a blow to the stomach. A slap. A kick. A punch. 

"What the fuck guys? Stop it!" I yelled, facing them with a white hot temper.

"Aww, has Danny's little boyfriend come to save is little gay ass?"

I cleared my throat nervously, trying to think of a witty comeback that would make them scamper away like in the movies. However, that didn't happen and I stood there with an outraged look on my face.

"Is little Lester a gay boy too? Too bad, looks like he'll get a beating too. Crabbe, Goyle!"

His large cronies came over from Dan, who was now sitting up against the lockers limply in a small pool of his own blood. My heart stopped as my eyes locked with his. My throat closed up and he closed his eyes. The anger inside of me bubbled up as he slumped onto the floor, blood mingling with his tears.

"FIGHT ME YOU MOTHERFUCKING ASSHATTED BLOCK BRAINED CUNT BAGS." I screamed at the top of my lungs as I landed a nice kick in Goyle's tummy area, probably leaving a rather impressive bruise, kneed Crabbe in the nuts and punched Sam in the jaw which made his mouth bleed.

Although this drained out a lot of my energy, it didn't suffice or bring enough pain. So, of course, they beat me.

They beat me senseless, actually. I'm quite impressed at the fact that I was still conscious to throw a few weak punches, kicks, slaps and insults. Pain ripped through every one of my muscles and I'm pretty sure that I've broken a few bones. It went on for at least 10 more minutes (I counted, actually. It was torture) until they finally decided to stop.

They picked my weak body up and threw me onto the floor beside Dan. "I did you and you're stupid boy toy a favour you know. Knocked some gay outta you, probably." Sam hissed into my ear. He gave my side one last kick and sauntered off, his two bodyguards following. 

Dan's eyes fluttered open a few moments later and he whispered "You shouldn't have done that you little shit."

I lifted my arm, despite the pain, and brushed his blood stained fringe out of his eyes and gave him a weak smile, "I wouldn't ever let anyone talk like that to my friend."

"Not best friend?" He asked, looking up at me with slightly confused, sort of joking, slightly hurt eyes. "There are some things you can't go through without becoming best friends, and getting beat up together by homophobic assholes is one of them."

I smiled gently and said, "I lay in a pool of blood corrected." He smiled back. He reached out for my hand and our fingertips brushed. Everything went black.

And in the end, I'd do it all again, I think you're my best friend.

16 and 18 years old

Dan isn't back yet. It's half past 10. This happens like, 3 times a week and it's been going on for a month now. Is he cheating on me? No way, Dan would never fucking do that. Where on earth could he be?

I called his phone again and it picked up, thank God.

"Should we go back from pubbbbbbbbb? Wha? Why's this onnnnn? The screen's too briiiiightttttttt. Turn it off Pooooojjj"

Then it ended. At the pub?

I threw on a coat, grabbed my phone, wallet and keys and sprinted to the car. I drove to the nearest pub there was and found that there were many middle aged men watching football. I peered inside. No Dan.

I drove to three different pubs until I found the one with Dan inside. I marched in with a determined frame of mind.

I saw Dan with glazed eyes, sipping life from bottles. Bottles of beer, that is. I marched over and peered into his eyes, looked around and was shocked when I felt a warm hand on my face.

"Ooooo, Philllyyy! Your face is reeealllly pretty Philllyyy. Pretty Philly. Heh."

Totally drunk.

But he couldn't buy alcohol, he wasn't old enough yet ... right? Yeah, right.

A figure waltzed towards us with a soppy grin on his face. A bottle of beer in his hand, he leant over and said to Dan, "D'you wanna n'other buttle?"

Dan looked over at him and erupted into a fit of giggles, clutching his stomach until he fell off his stool. He jumped back up, sat back down and leant his head onto my shoulder in one clumsy movement.

The boy looked at me. I daresay that he was Dan's age, or 17. Still, he wouldn't be able to but drinks yet, right? 

"You Phullup? Danny's been talking about you non-stop fur the whole month. Haha, cool. PEEEEEEJJJAAAYYYYYYYYYY?!!"

And another figure, a very tall one to say at the least, popped up behind the boy. 

"Yasssss, Chrissy dear Chrissy, ole Chrissy my friend??"

"D'you wanna buy Denyul's biffriend a drunk?"

"Oh, wow. You really are drunk Chris, dear, why did you drink that much, honestly what a bad idea I think that we should go home, yeah that's a good idea oh, hello Philip, nice to meet you, very very nice indeed how are you today chap that's good to hear very nice how lovely m'name's PJ nice day today, isn't it yes, yes it is indeed."

He shook my hand hurridely. He must have had something to drink, he definitely wasn't fully sober. Unless this guy was always very hyper. It'd be best to drive all of them home, I guess. I looked over and saw that Dan had fallen asleep on my shoulder. I think he's been there for a while actually. I'm not so sure ...

"I, I umm. I'm not Dan's boy-boyfriend, umm, actually. Heh, umm we're just, really good friends. Best friends actually. Flat-flatmates actually."

"Hahahahahaahahaaahahaa, of courseeeee you're not Dan's boyyyyyyfriendd. He doesn't talk about you all the time at allllllllllllll!" Chris mumbled, laughing hysterically.

I don't know what I was doing at a quarter to midnight with my best friend (whom I may have a crush on) and two other people who I don't know. All of them completely wasted. And I'm trying to have a conversation with them? Yeah, I'm not sane, surely.

"Look, I'll drive you all home, okay? You're all pretty drunk and it's getting late as well. Look, here's my number," I really quickly scribbled my number on a piece of paper and signed it off with a "Hope the hangover's not too bad - Phil :) (Dan's friend)"

I placed it into PJ's phone case. I didn't have another piece of paper, however. How would I know if this Chris person, whom I have never met before, was okay? Oh God.

"Our house is just round the curnur. Soooooo you could just dripp PJ and meeeeeeess at number 81. I think. Or was it 69? Hahaha, 69 Peeeej. 69." yelled Chris.

Okay, this was going to be great. Fun.

PJ paid the bar-man and supported Chris out of the door of the pub. Dan's body leant against mine, his feet dragging along behind him seeing as he was still pretty much asleep. I unlocked my car door for PJ and Chris to get in (I swear if they throw up in my car I will make sure that they are okay. Then they will pay me).

Before I got to the car, I felt glass pierce my ankle and I let out a hiss of pain. What the -

"Oooo, 'ello boys. Looking fitttt and fine I seeeee."

What the fuck. I turned around and there were a half a dozen or so men with lustful eyes pierced me. Is it the time to freak the fuck out? Yes. Very much so.

"Umm, hello s-sir's."

I tried to back away towards the car but Dan ended up slipping out of my arms onto the pavement. Oh no is he okay? Shit, is that blood. No fucking way I think that's blood. Nopenopenopenopenope.

The men stepped forwards and I held an arm out to stop them from getting closer to my Dan. "Stop!" I yelled. I think I may have attracted some attention but that wasn't my main priority right now. It was Dan. "Back off, I swear I will call the police."

"What are a couple o' pretty lads like you doin' out here late at night anyway, hmm?"

"P-please, just piss off, okay? Get the fuck away from me."

I guess that set off something because they started throwing bottles at me and Dan.

I tried to shield Dan as best as I could with my body. 

"Wh-wh the?" Dan rubbed his eyes sleepily. He stretched out and a bottle slammed into his arm, narrowly avoiding his voice. 

"Wh? What the ... WHAT THE FUCK?"

Another bottle went for his head and I only managed to block it at the last second.

There were frantic yells, screams, sirens, more bottles, more alcohol, more glass. More blood.

The smashing of bottles stopped, as did the disgusting cat calls and horrible things the men were saying to us. The sirens quietened down. Things were quiet, if you don't count the fact that Dan was sobbing loudly and desperately clinging onto my elbows, which seemed to be the only part of my body that wasn't pierced with glass.

"Phil, Phil you doofus you shouldn't have done that. Y-you're all bloody and hurt and oh my God Phil."

"Hey, Dan. Hey, look at me. It's okay."

And in the end, I'd do it all again, I think I really like you.

20 and 22 years old 

~~~(mentions of sexual abuse)~~~

"Honey, I'm hooooommeee!" I called out to my boyfriend in our small apartment.

I was met with deafening silence. Usually the TV would be on, or Dan would be playing music, or Dan would be singing horribly in a really quite adorable way, or Dan would be watching a Youtube video or something or Dan would be shuffling around and re-arranging things.

Never have I ever come home to silence. Complete and utter silence.

"Dan? Where are you babe?"

I got worried and called his phone. I heard a distant vibrating sound and shuffling of blankets. From Dan's room. 

Dan never slept in his room. He only used that room for storing things like clothes and extra blankets and pillows and stuff. He always slept with me. Why did he suddenly decide to go take a nap in his room?

Maybe I'm just overthinking things.

I silently opened his door to reveal a Dan with red-rimmed eyes, huddled up in a cocoon of blankets. He was crying.

"Wassup Bear?"

"Hmmphh."

He buried his face deeper into the blankets and pillows. I heard faint sobbing noises and got really worried. 

Did I do something wrong? Did he do something wrong? Nahh, he's too sweet and cute. Wait, did somebody die? Oh God I bet somebody died, didn't they. But who would've died. He would've called me, though. Wouldn't he? I don't get it.

I sat onto the bed next to him and wrapped my arm around the buddle of blankets that was Dan. He jerked away from me and almost fell off of the bed.

"Guhohway."

"What's wrong Dan? Please tell me, I hate seeing you like this." I said, lightly stroking his head seeing as it was the only part of him at peeped out of the blanket burrito.

"I set guhohway."

"Danny, I can't hear a thing you're saying."

I was surprised how a grown 6'1 tall man was wrapped up in as many pillows as that and managed to stay on the bed. It must be really warm in there.

He poked out the top part of his head so that only his eyes and nose were showing. He was on the verge of tears again. 

"I said go away Phil. Don't touch me, please." He whimpered and flinched away, as if I were to hit him.

"Baby, I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Tell me what's wrong, please?"

Dan emerged from the blanket cocoon so that his arms were free. He was wearing one of my hooded which looked massive on him. It was my Jake the Dog one. He only wore that when he was really really sad. I looked around the room and saw tissues everywhere.

"What happened?" I whispered in the softest voice I could muster. I reached out for his hand. He flinched a little but clung onto it, intertwining our fingers and squeezing.

"You're gonna hate me. You're gonna wanna throw me out. You're gonna hate me Phil and I can't lose you!"

He burst into tears, wailing, sobbing, but not getting any closer to me. In fact, he was getting further and further away from me. I pulled him back.

"Don't assume things. I will never ever break up with you, leave you, abandon you, throw you out or ever, ever hurt you. Got it? Now, tell me what's wrong. I'm really worried Dan."

I kissed his knuckles, his grip loosened and he sighed.

"No secrets, remember Dan. Only truths." I gave him a re-assuring squeeze, making sure to not make any attempts to move any closer to him. He was scared shit-less, I could see it in his eyes.

"He hurt me."

"Who?" I whispered, clutching onto his hand even tighter than before. There was some yelling to do very very soon.

"Sam."

My eyebrows shot up then furrowed. "Pepper?" My rage was almost uncontainable until he said something else.

"No, not that bastard. The other Sam. Sam Johnson." (This is a made up person)

"Sam Johnson? Sam fucking Johnson? What the heck I thought we were friends! What did that bastard do to you?"

"He ... he-" His voice cracked and more tears spilled out. Dan took a deep breath and looked down. "He tried to make me sleep with him."

"He fucking did fucking WHAT?" I yelled, making Dan untangle our hands and bury himself into the blankets again, sobbing and sobbing and sobbing.

"And - and you let him?! Dan, what?! What the h-"

"NO! Of course I didn't you blithering idiot! I would never! Please - please just stop yelling. I - I knew you w-would g-get mad at m-me." He mumbled at the end.

"So did he fuck you?" I continued, lowering my voice only slightly.

Dan cowered away from me and I realised, no. This is my boyfriend. My best friend. I shouldn't be yelling at him for something he had no control of. I tried again in a much gentler tone.

"What did that bastard do to you, Dan? Please. I won't get mad, I was just shocked, okay? I'm - I'm here for you."

I looked deep into his eyes and saw the fear slowly melting away. He tenderly reached out for my hand again and I grasped it carefully. Dan took a moment to calm down then explained.

"He-he touched me and did really f-fucking wrong t-things to m-me and-and I could-couldn't do anything because I was so weak, I was so helpless and scared. Then he started beating me u-up when I t-told him t-to st-top and t-then he dro-drove here and thr-threw me inside, Phil. He just threw me away l-like I was some - some toy. And - and I thought that w-we were friends y-you know? I-I'm really h-hurting Phil, I'm just s-so scared. P-please d-don't touch me, d-don't come near me. I'm d-disgusting and fi-filthy."

He hiccupped, flinched and cried as the memories flickered through his brain. He pulled his hand away from me harshly and sank back down. 

I slid myself into the blankets beside him and wrapped my arms around his waist softly. It took a while for him to relax into my arms, but we got there eventually and I gave him a soft kiss.

"I'm going to protect you at all costs. I will be by your side forever, okay? I need to sort something out first, will you sleep for me? You must be so tired, we can talk when you wake up yeah? Will you be okay on your own? Don't try to come and find me."

I threaded my fingers through his soft, curly hair and lifted his chin so that his lips met mine.

"You're leaving me aren't you." He said blankly, pulling away from the kiss.

"No. Never. I love you, I love you to bits. Every single inch of you, your personality and the way you laugh and when you're not looking at me and when your eyes light up when you find something that makes you happy and when you brush your fringe out of your eyes and when you're crying, when you're jealous, when you're happy and sad, I will always love you. I'm never leaving, okay? Don't worry about me. Sleep."

"Yeah, o-okay. I'm pretty t-tired, I guess. Where are you going P-Philly?"

"I'll tell you as soon as you wake up, okay? If you wake up before I'm back, just, just umm, call me and I'll come straight away, yeah? Put an anime on or make a hot chocolate."

"O-okay. Stay s-safe. I, I'm." He took a breathe and looked at me. "Thanks Phil. I love you."

"I love you too. You've been so brave." I whispered into his hair.

He fell asleep a few minutes later so I slid out of bed and tucked Lion into Dan's arms.

I hopped into my car and went to find Sam, that bastard. I got to his house and knocked rapidly on the door. He opened it up.

I punched him.

"What the actual fuck?!" I screamed at him.

I shoved him through the door and he kicked my stomach. I slammed the door behind me.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house, Lester?" He spat at my shoes.

"YOU HURT MY FUCKING BOYFRIEND WHAT KIND OF FUCK BAG MUST YOU BE TO HURT SOMEONE LIKE DAN YOU BASTARD!" I punched him in the nose and heard a sickening crack.

I hope he has to get his nose chain sawed off now.

"ACTUALLY, PHILIP, HE WANTED ME. HE WANTE-"

Punch. Kick. Slap. Fists, hands, feet and faces. Blood. Dazed gazes.

Sam probably broke something at this point. He almost ran off into the kitchen - presumably to try to get a knife - but I tripped him up and he landed face first into the corner of the table. I flower vase tipped over but didn't smash.

I walked over and pushed it back up again, every step I took burned like hell but I managed to bend down to look closely at Sam's face.

Bruises littered his face like galaxies. Though galaxies are too pretty, too extraordinary, for his ugly face. He right eyes was swelling up and he had a busted lip. I probably broke a bone in his body or something. There was a lot of blood, but not so much as to kill him.

Probably.

My phone rang and I slipped it out of my pocket realising with a start that I had smashed it in several places. Oh. At least it still worked. I put it close to my ear.

"Heya Danny." My voice came out scratchy and croaky from the yelling. I should probably report him to the police regarding the sexual abuse.

"Phil? Phil, what's wrong? Are you in pain? No, Phil stop, I know you're hurt where are you I'll pick you up. Be honest, no lying, are you okay? What happened."

"No, stay there. Keep warm, get something sweet to drink, eat some malteasers too. I'll be home soon. Yes, I'm rather hurt. I may need to go to the hospital but I'll come see you first, definitely. See you soon, love you. Oh yeah, my phone's broken. We need to fix that soon."

"Okay. Hurry back. I wanna take care of you. Love you."

He hung up and I slowly inched my way towards the car. I clambered in and drove slowly, my foot not co-operating very well.

Every little bit I moved hurt so so so much. But it was fine. I was fine. We were all fine.

And in the end, I'd do it all again, I think that I love you.

27 and 29 years old

"Hey Dan, I'll be home soon yeah? Don't you worry about me." I said, trying to calm down my fiancé-soon-to-be-husband-ohmygod.

"Be home soon, yeah? You know I don't like being alone."

"Baby you're not alone because you're here with me, and nothing is ever gonna bring us down because nothing can keep me from loving you. And you know it's true. I love you alright?"

"Shut up you soppy git, hurry back. And I love you too, see you soon, yeah?"

"See you soon, bear"

He ended the call and I continued driving home from the airport where I had just sent off my mum who was going to America. I sat in silence all the way home, not being able to listen to music as the car radio was broken or something. Need to get that fixed soon.

The rain pounded against the glass which made me sleepy and drowsy. I need to stay awake, this isn't safe.

I pulled up at the gas station to get a snack on the way home. Surely a minute would be alright? I paid for two packets of malteasers, one for me, one for Dan. I started the engine and made my way home. 

The rain had disappeared but the sky turned a gloomier shade of grey. I could see smoke in the distance? Are people having a barbeque at 7:55pm? Maybe someone was camping out and put up a fire. Maybe it's just my eyes playing tricks on me.

I arrived home five minutes later, our small house surrounded by police cars, ambulance trucks and fire trucks. As I frantically hopped out of my car, I realised that the house looked scorched. Windows smashed, items scattered and frantic people in uniforms everywhere.

No fucking way.

"DAN!"

"Excuse me, sir. Please state your name and business here, if you may." A kind looking man, who I was assuming was from one of the ambulance trucks or something, asked me. I feel like I've seen his face before but I'm in no state to process anything right now. I can't handle this. Not now. Not ever. Nope nope nope.

"Philip Michael Lester, fiancé to Daniel James Howell, I live here with him, 29 years old, he's 27, we were going to get married soon please tell me he's alright I can't do this, please," I hurried out, my voice coming out crackly and sore sounding from holding back on coming tears.

"This way please, M-Mr. Lester."

He didn't answer my question. And he stuttered? Was Dan alright? How the fuck did this happen? Shit, I just swore. Screw it, what if Dan got hurt. What if Dan's dead?

No. Of course he's not dead. Daniel James Howell is not dead.

I choked back another sob, hiccupping then ending up choking on my spit. We shortly arrived at the nearest ambulance truck.

My hands were shaking and clammy, my forehead shined, covered in a sheen of sweat and I felt suffocated. I couldn't breathe. Tears were clouding up my vision; I started furiously blinking, feeling the cold salty liquid slid down my face. 

"Dan?" I managed to croak out, how? I don't know. But I rushed over and hopped into the truck without any permission, catching sight of my precious boyfriend and latching onto his arm.

He looked awful. Angry burns smothered in some sort of clear, shiny substance were scattered across his face in varying shapes and sizes. His iconic eclipse shirt was scorched in so many places, revealing cuts and bruises and even more burn marks. A long, deep cut was shown along his tummy, which the medics were working on at the moment. His forehead was matted with blood making his beautiful fringe stick to his forehead.

"What?" I whispered, my throat constricting making my breathing ragged and sharp. I gently squeezed his fingers, hoping for a response, a sign, anything. Nothing.

"Police and many investigators think that someone may have entered your house whilst Mr. Howell was waiting for you, presumably, in the downpour outside. They suspect that a couple minutes after Mr. Howell re-entered the house, something had set alight and had rapidly spread," the kind looking man informed me. His name-tag read 'Chris' in sloppy, yet quite endearing, writing. I feel like I recognise that name from somewhere? "By the time the neighbours found out and rang us, the rain had stopped and didn't have a chance to extinguish the flames."

Tears welled up in his eyes and a tall man with curly hair and in a police uniform came over and told me what happened next. Weird, did this Chris person know Dan? He stepped out of the ambulance truck and into another. He shut the doors and I focused on the curly-haired man. This seems so familiar somehow and I'm not liking it. In the least.

"We know that Mr. Howell couldn't have lit the fire in any way as the stove hasn't been on for at least a couple of hours. There were also no candles or any other flammable things lit. We suspect that the criminal set the curtains alight. The fire would have spread from there onto the carpet. The whole bottom floor was covered in flames." The guy - who I now know is called PJ - explained. What an interesting name. I swear I've -

"At this point, Mr. Howell was already upstairs and possibly in the shower seeing as he didn't notice the smoke or flames sooner. Mr. Howell inhaled a lot of smoke and whoever set the house alight, or one of their accomplices, had stabbed Mr. Howell. Though it was not a very deep cut as the criminals were trying to flee from the scene of crime, Mr. Howell has lost a lot of blood. 

"By the time we got him out of the fire, many of his wounds poured out more blood. His burns were quite serious as he was almost engulfed by the flames, but they are healing quickly as we speak. We are umm," Evan faltered in his speech looking forlorn and downcast. He cleared his throat. "We're afraid that he won't make it, Mr. Lester. We have footage from the security cameras. They will be processed and analysed as soon as possible so that we can capture the person who did this."

I didn't realise that the truck was moving, nor had I realised that after PJ finished his speech, we were already there, at the hospital. I released my grip and they dragged him into the depths of the clean building.

I walked in a dazed way through the reception, Chris leading the way, wiping his face every so often. Someone did this to Dan. My Dan.

I was informed that I wasn't allowed inside whilst they healed up Dan and investigated him. I screamed in outrage, of course I did. But my throat was raw, raw with emotion and worry and all the bad, terrible feelings. Chris guided me to the comfy chairs.

We sat in silence for a while before he spoke in a small cracked, wispy voice.

"I knew Dan."

"Oh."

I stared at his face, trying hard to figure out at which point in time I knew him. Did I even know him? But why do I recognise his face?

"You don't remember me, do you Phil?" he whispered, looking down at his hands which were in his lap.

"I-I'm sorry. I can't - I don't really umm," I stuttered, not knowing what to say.

"Hey, it's alright." He placed a comforting hand on my arm and I was glad for the physical touch. "When Dan was around 16 or so, I took him out clubbing and drinking for a couple nights a week for a while." His hands and eyes returned to his lap as tears threatened to fall again. 

"I-I was the one r-responsible for you and D-Dan getting injured by those dr-drunk bastards, remember?" He flinched away from me, as if he expected me to hit him or do something drastic. I still couldn't remember ... "A-and I felt really b-bad so I went over to Dan's h-house and tried to apologise but y-you shouted at m-me a lot and I was s-so fucking scared and I t-totally u-unders-stand that it was my fault b-but you seemed like s-someone who w-would never e-ever shout and I'm s-so so so-sorry, Phil."

Oh. Now I remember. He was the pretty boy with the butterscotch hair that I screamed at because he hurt my Dan. He was 17 at the time, wasn't he? 

"Hey, it's okay. The past is in the past, right? You were slightly irresponsible, you wanted to have some fun. I'm sorry I shouted, I was just really worried. It's okay, really. Please don't cry." 

His hands shook and I slowly wrapped an arm around him as he cried into my shoulder.

"I-I just c-can't believe that s-someone would e-ever do this to D-Dan. I-I just. We had g-gotten really close a-and then w-we had to m-move away and I w-was so u-upset. Oh my God, I-I'm sorry, I can't i-imagine how you m-must feel right now. I'm s-so sorry I just w-wasn't thinking. H-here."

He gave a final hiccup and handed me a glass of water. I was holding back tears. Holding back the emotions that threatened to spill.

"You're so strong, Phil."

I looked at him and gave him a watery smile.

"We'll keep in t-touch, yeah? If you n-need some place t-to stay f-for a while, y-your always welcome at mine and PJ's flat. Good luck, Phil."

He bent down and hugged me. He left. I felt like my whole world was shattering. Dan. Dan. Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan.

Daniel James Howell. Danny. Dan. Bear. Cutie. Dan. Dan Dan Dan.

Daniel James Lester.

A man from the corridor spotted me and opened his mouth to speak. It was PJ. There were tears leaking out of his eyes and from the look on his face, I knew. I just knew.

"I'm sorry, Phil."

My last words I ever spoke to him, to Dan was a promise. A broken, shattered promise I couldn't keep.

And in the end, I couldn't do anything.