Dan was sitting at the kitchen table when Phil walked in.
"Morning," Phil yawned. He blinked, then looked again. "Dan, did you sleep at all last night?"
Dan had deep, black circles under his eyes and a distant look of unhappiness etched onto his features.
When he glanced up at Phil, Phil could see that Dan's usually brown eyes has darkened to an almost black shade. Dan blinked doggedly up at Phil but didn't respond.
"You didn't, did you?"
Dan just stared. Phil leaned in closer, trying to be gentle.
"Why?"
"I don't know, I was…. thinking."
"Existential crisis?"
"…..yeah."
Phil was concerned now. He knew how dangerous existential crises could be for Dan. When they first lived together, it wasn't unusual for Phil to find Dan face down on the floor, groaning into the carpet. In 2012 they got really bad.
They would keep Dan crippled for days, unable to eat or drink or sleep. The doctor said he had insomnia, but Phil knew the problem ran much deeper than that.
"Do you think you should try the sleeping pills again?" Phil asked quietly.
Dan's face crinkled into a look of disgust.
"They taste disgusting, and they make me groggy for the next day. Leave it alone, the stage will pass."
But it didn't.
Three days passed, and Dan still hadn't slept.
Phil was shocked at the deterioration. Dan looked like a dead man. There wasn't a good way to describe in justice what Dan looked like.
He couldn't even walk right, sloping from room to room in a half-daze. Phil watched in horror as his friend seemed to lose the will to live.
In a permanent state of existential crisis and unable to sleep, or eat, or live.
"Dan, you're taking the pills tonight."
"We don't have any," Dan murmured distantly.
"Then we're going out. It' already dark outside, let's go."
Dan wandered obediently behind Phil. Phil guided Dan down the stairs and into the front seat of the car.
…
They drove slowly down the road, the dark night sky around them glittering with bright stars.
The store was a mile from where they lived, and Phil didn't want to push the speed incase there were any animals roaming around.
It was a cold night, in fact it was already winter, so the heat in the car had been turned up to a high warm, the motor engine humming in the background.
Phil's hands clenched and unclenched on the steering wheel, anxious. How long could someone go without sleeping or eating? How long has these existential crisis's been going on? What had triggered them?
"Dan, I-"he looked over to the seat next to him and there was a sight that made him sigh with relief. Dan's eyes had closed, his mouth slightly ajar. He was asleep.
Phil smiled slightly, grateful beyond belief. He turned down the next road, and prepared himself for a night of driving around the block.
….
A few hours passed and he was running low on gas. He decided it was worth the risk. Slowly, he slid the car into their parking spot. Dan stirred a little, but Phil shushed him, quietly slipping out of his own side of said car and walking to Dan's side.
He opened it, and Dan groaned as the sudden rush of cool hair hit his face, but kept his eyes closed.
Phil shushed him again.
"Come on Dan, get up, you don't have to open your eyes, just walk." he murmured.
Phil helped Dan pull himself up and draped one of his arms around his shoulders.
"Let's go Dan."
Slowly they made their way up the stairs, all while Dan groaned softly, keeping his eyes firmly shut. Phil almost laughed. It was like leading a drunk person.
Finally they made it through the stairs.
Phil opened the door and Dan almost slid onto the carpet. Phil heaved him up, determined to get Dan to his own bed.
Eventually they got there and Dan, still with his eyes closed, grabbed the covers and pulled them over his head, curling into a ball.
Phil allowed himself to laugh at this. It was such a childish thing to do that it was sweet and enduring.
As he left, he made sure to switch off the light.
…
3pm.
A grunt emerges from the room down the hall. A ruffled, curly head pokes its way into the kitchen.
"Finally!" Phil laughs at the sleepy, disgruntled look on Dan's face.
He pat's the seat next to him for Dan to sit then gets up himself.
Emerging back from the kitchen with a bowl or ready-brek in his hands.
He places it in front of Dan. His blue eyes stare into Dan's chocolate ones. They were wide and pleading.
Finally, Dan dips his spoon in and puts it into his mouth.
A wide smile crosses Phil's face. That was Dan's first food source in days.
Dan smiles back at Phil, amused at the sudden happiness.
Phil had pulled him out of hell, again.