Phil sat bolt upright, as if someone had grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, picked him up and hoisted him out of his deep, euphoric sleep. Phil couldn't adjust to reality. His dreams were too perfect, too beautiful. All he ever wanted in the world was to dream and dream and dream some more. Maybe then he wouldn't have to go through the pain of waking up in the real world. Every morning was like being stabbed in his fragile heart.
A cold sweat broke on his forehead as his gasping breaths and shaken mind told him what he needed.
Suddenly, Phil leapt from his bed and sprinted to kitchen, fringe sticking to his forehead and his body trembling as he ran down the hall, unaware of the noise he was making. He burst into the pitch black living room, the moonlight peaking through the curtains being his only source of light. He slapped the light switch, filling the room with blinding light, and started thrusting open every cupboard in the kitchen, cutlery, pots, pans, tinned food flying behind him, falling to the floor with a painfully loud, cringing noise of metal against metal.
Phil couldn't see. His mind was a blur, a whirl wind of emotions. All he could see was blurred shapes and fierce colours, swirling around him. He couldn't give up. He had to find what he needed. Quickly.
"Phil?" mumbled Dan's tired voice. Phil spun around and saw a topless Dan shuffle into the room, rubbing his eyes and then slowly moving them away to reveal his gorgeous, rich brown iris' and sparkling pupils. Phil was weak; weak from his illness but most of all, weak from the sight of Dan. His knees buckled and he collapsed onto the cold kitchen floor.
"PHIL!" cried Dan, diving to the floor, on all fours as he crawled to Phil's side. Dan was dazed, unprepared for another one of Phil's breakdowns. He looked down at his face. His fringe was soaked with sweat and his eyes were wide and terrified, flickering in all directions. His chest rose and fell at an alarming rate. Dan cradled Phil's face in his hands, lumps forming in the back of his throat. Phil's body trembled, as a single tear trickled down his face. Dan could feel his heart tear apart like it did every time Phil fell into this state.
"Phil, you have to calm down," said Dan hastily. Dan knew what to do but he could only do it if Phil was tranquil. If Phil was in this state of hysteria when he took his pills, he would become violent. He would beg for more. He would cry and cry and tell him how he wanted to die. Dan physically couldn't see him like that. It was destroy him…
"Phil, please be calm. Be calm,"
"He's coming for me, Dan," Phil whispered in a voice that was far from his own. Suddenly he stopped shaking. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling; un-moving, un-blinking. Dan swept his hands under Phil's arms and positioned him to lean against Dan's chest, with his legs at the sides of Phil's body. Phil was a dead weight against him, his cold body ice on his bare chest. Dan wrapped one arm around Phil as he stroked Phil's fringe with his delicate hand
"No Phil, no he's not. You're safe. I promise. No one can hurt you. I'll protect you," Dan whispered, "You're safe, Phil. Be calm. Please. Do it for me. Be calm,"
"H-H-He did things, Dan. Terrible things," croaked Phil, on the verge of tears. Dan stared at Phil, shocked. This was new. Phil had always talked about someone coming for him. He never said who. He never said why. Just that he was coming for him.
"Phil…" Dan paused, considering what he should do. After some long thought, he realized that now wasn't the time.
He sighed, and planted a kiss on his Phil's moist forehead, "Just relax, Phil, we can talk about it when you've calmed down,"
Dan felt Phil's breath slow and his heart rate turn to normal. Phil turned on his side, brought his knees to his chest and snuggled into the crook of Dan's neck as Dan stroked Phil's hair rhythmically, to the beat of his aching heart. It had been about fifteen minutes before Phil stirred.
"Dan?" mumbled Phil.
"Yeah, Phil?"
"Can I have my pills now?"
"Of course," Dan smiled weakly, "Hang on,"
Dan moved Phil so he sat in the corner, cross legged. Phil's icy blue eyes followed Dan as he stood up and swiftly opened the only unopened cupboard in the kitchen and grabbed a small box from the inside. He squeezed two capsules from the packaging. He grabbed the two pills, filled a glass with water and crouched down to meet Phil's glossy eyes. He slowly handed both the pills and the water to Phil and watched as he gulped down the pills to subdue Phil's rapidly increasing Schizophrenia.