Warnings: Abusive relationships, negative thoughts, alcohol abuse, blood, bruises, derogatory language, physical abuse, emotional abuse, slightly implied sexual abuse (yeah sorry guys this week is pretty heavy)

If you are affected by any of these I will always reply to any messages from people who need advice or just to talk x

Phil took a deep breath. Shirt ironed. Jacket clean. Tie straight. He wondered, across the world, how many young men were doing the same thing as him; cleaning themselves up for a night with their loved one, or their family, or their boss. He wondered how many sprays of cologne clung to the planet's atmosphere, how many laces had been tied with jittering fingers.

He stared into the mirror, and checked his skin for bruises. He wondered how many men were doing that, too.

Not too bad. The high collar covered the worst of the damage- a deep, red mark where things had got out of hand- and anyway, most of it was in places people wouldn't see. Unless you counted the bruises under his eyes, of course, deep purple marks that were the work of a dozen sleepless nights.

"We're going to be late." The voice made Phil stiffen, instantly afraid. In any other voice, they were a gentle rebuke, something a friend would say to another. In those tones though…

They were as frightening as a death sentence.

Phil shuffled his feet, looking at the floor. "I'm sorry. I'm coming." He went to turn around, but nails dug into his shoulder, and he looked up into the mirror. Next to his boyfriend's face, his reflection looked emaciated, ghost-like. Maybe that's all he was, now.

"We're not even down there, and you're already fucking this up. All my friends are down there," Phil felt a sudden urge to clarify that they were his friends too, but he bit his tongue. "You're going to smile, you hear me?" Phil nodded silently. "I can hardly deal with you, let alone anyone else. I only keep you around for my exercise." His muscles tensed, but the hand stayed on his shoulder. Thank God. "Just don't mess up, or next time my hands are round your throat, I won't be able to stop myself." He laughed harshly. "Don't look at me like that."

Phil's eyes darted away from the other man's. "No, I'm not." The nails dug in harder.

"Don't argue with me. Do you see what you drive me to? I love you, Phil. I'm the only person who'll put up with something as unlovable as you. How dare you look at me with blame in your eyes? Don't you love me?" His voice had that dangerous edge to it, the one that always came before a hit. Phil noticed a crack in the corner of the mirror. His mouth was dry, but he put every ounce of strength into his voice.

"I love you, Dan. I promise I won't let you down."

He still sounded weak, after all.

Phil took the stairs into the hall with Dan, trying not to wince as Dan gripped his arm a little too tight. What are we even celebrating? Phil couldn't think of anything in life even worth cracking a smile over, let alone throwing a black-tie affair.

He glanced at Dan as he smiled warmly, greeting someone Phil recognised, but barely knew. Of course, he thought, as the words seeped into his haze. It's nothing to do with us. Their friend had just got engaged, and they were here to congratulate her. You're being self absorbed. Just like you always are.

Just like Dan says you are.

He smiled and fake laughed when Dan did, but all the while his eyes were glancing round the room. Did they see him how Dan did? They made pretty words, but he imagined their pity, no, their disgust. As bad as Dan was, as disgusted as he was, he wouldn't leave Phil.

The feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that maybe that wasn't such a good thing.

"You're not to talk to Hazel, alright," Dan warned. "I don't care if she's engaged, you are not permitted to talk to her without me." Phil nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I bet you'd try and chat her up, anyway. Dirty whore," he gave that cold, harsh laugh again, and Phil cringed.

"I wouldn't. Why can't I talk to her?" His voice was as small as he felt.

Dan looked away from him. "I think you'd start a conversation I wouldn't approve of. You trust me, don't you." It was a statement, not a question, but Phil nodded anyway.

So they talked. They danced. They drank- well, Dan did, and a little too much. Phil sat in the corner of the room, subdued; he wondered about the other people at the party. It seemed… impossible, illogical, that they couldn't see how broken he was. Yes, he acted well, he could be the best little machine in the whole wide world, but- couldn't they tell? Couldn't they smell the nights he'd spent, beaten, waiting for Dan to come back home and apologise? Couldn't they hear the shake in his voice, see that he was broken, polluted?

I'm something less than human, but nobody can see that, none of them.

Dan walked over to him, the alcohol lending a sway to his gait. "I'm going to the bathroom. You'll stay here." Not quite a threat, but not a request either. "You won't talk to anyone. Understood?" Phil just nodded again, holding his drink, all the fight gone out of him. His eyes closed as he heard Dan leave, the relief that swept through his body almost as scary as the fear he felt when they were together.

"Hey, Phil?" The voice was soft, with the gentle lilt of an Irish accent, but Phil still jolted back to reality like he'd been electrified. "Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Hazel smiled, taking the chair next to him.

Phil shook his head. "No, it's fine. Congratulations, by the way," he held up the glass, toasting her. "You look beautiful." She did- glowing with the attention and love from her friends. Then again, anyone would look radiant next to Phil. Boring, grey Phil.

"Thank you," her hand reached for the base of her throat. "I was nervous about tonight, but I think it was good for me."

Phil followed her fingers, saw how they came to rest at a deep, knotted scar. That's why Dan doesn't want me to talk to her, Phil thought. He pushed that notion deep down, forcing a smile that only needed a heartbeat to become genuine. "I think you're brave. I know… things were hard for you." It was common, grisly knowledge that Hazel's last boyfriend hadn't quite had all his crayons in the box, but she'd stopped making videos, generally avoided the subject. Turns out this was the reason why.

Hazel brushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Yeah. The main thing is, I got out of that situation. It's was bad, but I have people around me now, good people," she smiled. "People like my fiance, and people like you. I just have to remember that he's not going to hurt me."

Phil coughed, resisting the urge to glance around for Dan. "So… he hurt you a lot? I mean- don't tell me if you're not comfortable-" he immediately felt bad, but Hazel shook her head.

"No, it's okay. I'm slightly drunk and somebody needs to know, so I might as well," she held up her glass and inclined her head. "It's not going to get any easier. The time he tried to kill me- no, that wasn't the only time he hurt me. He liked to leave marks- bruises-"

"In places people can't see," Phil interrupted, and stared ahead, fingers pressed hard to the arms of the chair.

"That's right," she looked a little worried, but moved on. "It wasn't just physical, he, ah, he'd say things to me, too. Sorry, I'm probably… saying too much."

"He'd tell you you're worthless." Phil's voice sounded hollow, even to him. "Unlovable."

Hazel nodded, speechless. "How do you- Phil, is everything okay?"

"Fine." He didn't look at her still. Hazel touched his arms, and he flinched.

"Phil, honestly, are you alright? Is there… do you know someone who's in an abusive relationship?" Phil blanched. He knew that's what this was, deep down, but sounded strange when someone said it out loud, wrong, somehow. But Dan loves you.

"No," he answered, both to that voice and to Hazel. "No, everything's okay. But… s-say I was, er, did, know someone, that is. What would I- they- do?"

Hazel started to look really concerned. "They have to end it. Now. As soon as they can. They have to realise- everything that they've been told isn't true. They're worth something. People love them."

Phil leaped to his feet. "But they're scared. They're really scared. They don't know what that other person will do to them. They don't think they're a person, hell, they barely think they're an animal anymore."

"They don't need to be." Hazel stood up, and rested her hand on his shoulder, much gentler this time. "They don't need to take it anymore. They have to remember," she sighed. "They have to remember that they're human."

Phil saw Dan, making his way across the gilded dance floor. He started to shake, the age-old fear response kicking in. "Hazel, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry about this, but I think I might be about to ruin this party."

Hazel's lips were set in a straight line. "Do you know what? I don't think I mind. Go for it." Phil nodded once, determined.

"Hey, baby," Dan gave that easy, practised smile as he approached Phil. Under his breath, though, his words were malicious. "I saw you talking to Hazel. I told you not to, you useless piece of- what did she say? Tell me what she said right now or you lose something vital."

Phil didn't answer, though, backing away instead. "Why do you always say those things?" he whispered, gripping his glass tightly. "You always say those things. You're supposed to love me."

"I do love you. I stick with you, don't I? And let me tell you, it's hard when you're like this." Dan hissed, coming towards Phil again. Phil shook his head, his voice stronger, louder.

"People don't threaten people they love," he started backing towards the crowd of people, who were starting to stare. "It's not supposed to be like this." With a crack, the glass broke in his hand. Unclenching his fist, Phil watched the glass fall to the floor, blood welling up in his palm.

"You're bleeding." Dan looked shocked. He never saw Phil bleed, after all; he preferred to leave bruises, and he was hardly a prime candidate for putting on plasters after a paper cut.

"Of course I'm bleeding, Dan." Phil's voice was a shout now. "I'm human. I'm just as human as you, and when I get hurt, I bleed. But you don't see me like a human, do you?" The word sounded rusty in his mouth, but beautiful, god, so beautiful.

Dan held up a hand. "Phil, you're making a scene. I think you need to calm down-"

"Calm down?" Phil's voice rose in pitch, and he threw off his jacket. "Are you seriously telling me to calm down, with your temper?" He yanked down his collar, pulled up his sleeve. The skin looked ink-stained, red bleeding into blue and black. "I told you to calm down when you gave me all of these, and you didn't. I told you to stop hurting me, and you didn't. How can you stand there and tell me to calm down?" There were tears running down his cheeks, but they were a hero's tears, running into brave words instead of a pillow.

Dan fidgeted as people stared, face turning red with fury. "Phil, you have to stop this."

"Or what? You'll show everyone that famous temper of yours? You can't apologise to everyone here, Dan, not after that. You can't kiss them and get their forgiveness." Dan's breath started to come faster. "And you can't tell everyone here that I'm worthless. You can't attempt to choke everyone in this room." There were gasps, mumbles. "So what are you going to do to me? I can say this as many times as I like. I'm human. I'm human. I'm human." The words became a mantra, a battle cry.

"Phil, this is ridiculous… you can't expect people to believe…" but they could, and he could see it. That's the benefit of never speaking up; when you did, it got people's attention. "You have to stop this. We have to talk."

"We could," Phil nodded. "Or I could tell everyone what else you've done. How else I've been hurt."

That was the last push. Dan screamed, face a burning scarlet, and jumped at Phil with his fists raised. He couldn't move fast enough, though, and Ben and Jack held him away from Phil as he struggled, twin looks of horror on their faces.

"I thought you loved me, Phil." That's all Dan could say, now, the desperate pleas of a guilty child. Phil scanned the faces in the room- some were crying, others blank with shock, others angry on his behalf. And to think I was worried about them believing me. To think I was scared.

"I thought I did, too. But when I realised I was human, there are things that come with that." God, he'd never get enough of saying those words. "I'm human, Dan. Which means I cannot love a monster." His eyes narrowed. "And it means I will always, always win."

They dragged him away from Phil, and he screamed threats and promises, but they were empty now, every last one of them, emptier than Phil had ever been. They both knew it. He was dimly aware of faces around him, asking if he was okay, saying sorry, offering help. He saw Hazel's face, and instead of seeing the resentment for ruining her perfect night like he expected, he saw pride in its place.

"Well done. You got out. You're okay." Hazel smiled, and Phil wiped tears from his eyes, smiling. He couldn't reply, though, because too many words were spinning through his head. Too many, but they all came down to the same thing.

I'm human.

I'm human.

I'm free.

Thank you for reading xxx Due to exams, this will be my last update until June- in the meantime, please follow me on tumblr (also called uhnonniemiss) for the rest of my work and also some cool other stuff :)

These exams are going to kill me R.I.P. Patricia :/ Please tell me what you thought of this fic (to keep my spirits from hitting rock bottom, and keep me from hitting the spirits) and I'll love you 5 ever