Dan sits patiently on the couch.
He can do that.
The table, the plush toys, the books and cushions, everything is right, everything is perfect. He's even angled the TV screen so the sunlight won't bother Phil if he wants to play the new Sonic game when he gets back. The kettle is always warm and there are pots of tea everlasting, biscuits too.
Now all he has to do is wait.
He can do that.
The paper has been delivered, as usual, but he stopped reading it ages ago. No point in getting your information from a false source. The reporters were liars and the photographers manipulated your mind, blunting you, tricking you- but not him.
The door opens and he can tell that it's Chris from the way he tentatively blurts out, 'Hello!' just as he's done for a whilenow, as if he can't be sure how Dan will react to his greeting.
Perhaps, he considers as he nods at Chris greeting- who sits down in the chair opposite him (Phil's spot, but he'll let it pass, just this once), his other friends are frustrated that he spends more time with Phil than any of them.
'Hello.' Chris smiles back, his eyes heavy with sleeplessness. That's new.
'Well Chris, it's been a while hasn't it! How is the BBC gig going?'
He watches Chris' face fall subtly behind the carefully maintained cheeriness.
'Fine, fine- thanks…' He drags his restless fingers through the brown hair, nervous? 'I don't know if he called you but PJ will be here soon too, we miss you.'
Dan rubs his thigh unconsciously, nails digging into the denim, 'That's just lovely.'
I don't want you both here when Phil gets home, he thinks, but he's still managed to maintain some sense of decorum, despite his reputation for dismal manners.
A few moments later and PJ is there.
'Dan, hi!'
It's hardly a proper greeting, just like Chris he seems to be testing the waters, and Dan chooses to act colder, tired of this strange act his friends insist on playing.
'You might want to throw out those biscuits,' PJ pokes at the stale gingernut in the bowel, Dan also chooses to ignore this comment, 'Definitely past their due by date.'
He sits down next to Chris, folding his hands together. There is a moment of awkwardness before PJ speaks again. 'So we were thinking of going down to town tonight and getting dinner, how does that sound?' Dan didn't reply, so he pressed it further, 'Do you want to come with us Dan?'
The silence in the room is deafening, his guests seem unwilling to say anything in case they interrupt the beginning of Dan speaking, but he refuses to play their game. If he refuses they'll just try to convince him, and there's no way he's going to leave with them, the whole thing is completely pointless.
Chris stands, tugging on PJ's jacket like a small child, alone and afraid. 'Let's leave him be, he'd like that, wouldn't you Dan?'
He nods, no point denying it. Anyway, he doesn't want them to be here when Phil gets back, it'd ruin the entire evening. He must be so tired, it's getting late and the tube gets pretty ghastly by nighttime.
PJ flicks through the file handed to him by the nurse with a weary expression.
'No change then?'
Chris sighed.
'None. He barely remembers my daily visits. He doesn't even remember the court case… When we tried to take him out of the room, he almost broke his leg resisting; he couldn't bear the idea of Phil returning to an empty apartment.'
PJ flips the file shut with a loud snap and places it down on the cold, metal bench. 'I guess the possibility that Phil had jumped in front of that train himself was too much to deal with. I mean, we all knew he was in a bad place… Dan more than anyone.' He pulled his hood over his head, rubbing at his forehead. 'But it's been two years now. Do you think he'll ever come back to us?' Chris looked up at his friend, pausing before shaking his head, then adding, 'He might! But I think he's too devastated to ever return to a world where there is no chance of Phil coming back to him, eventually.' PJ nods, and picking his umbrella off the floor, he nods his farewell to Chris, and with a quick, 'Let me know if anything changes, yeah?' makes his way down the sickeningly white hallway.
As Chris listens to the footsteps fade away, he turns to the file again, trying to pick up something, anything that could help them find Dan again. There's motion in the corner of his vision and he looks up to the one-way mirror to see Dan make his way across the recreated apartment to reheat the kettle of tea once again.
Dan sits down, a fresh mug of tea steaming on the table and the old biscuits replaced- a small sample had confirmed that they were indeed utterly stale and no good. He even added a small bag of Haribo babies, just in case Phil wanted something sweet. Settling into the chair, he rests his hands on his knees and smiles.
Not long now.
Well that was a bit sad.. but I hope you liked it! :)