Author's Note: This one, if you can't figure from the title, involves major "character" death. It's a lot less fluffy than the other ideas I have for these one-shots.

2) Dan's Funeral


I stayed at the edge of the open coffin until long after I heard everyone else leave—or so I thought. My hands were clenched tight on the two zipper sides of my leather jacket. Dan hadn't been particularly religious, but I was, and I was praying that he made it to the afterlife safely.

Most of the other attendees hadn't worn black to the funeral—but I knew Dan would approve of my fashion choice. When I picked out the black dress and black leather jacket, I heard his voice in my head. "The only acceptable fashion choice." It made me smile sadly. My hair was hanging on either side of my face so I had to look through a curtain of brown to see Dan's body, lying there. It almost didn't even look like him. There was no sass. No sarcasm. It was a husk of a being. A shell.

I. Didn't. Like. It.

Gently, from behind me, I heard a soft voice. "Star." The tender way Phil handled my name—or at least the name he and Dan had chosen to call me—made me even sadder, but also weirdly angry. Like he shouldn't be calling me that without Dan. The way they used to throw it between them like a baseball while I rolled my eyes and got frustrated made the word sound foreign without the fun and fondness.

I whirled to look at him. "What?" I demanded, hostile so I wouldn't break down again.

"I know how much this hurts you. I'm sorry," he murmured quietly, resting his hand on my shoulder. I ripped out from under his comforting gesture and stormed away, angry and scared of opening up about how badly my heart was hurting. "Star!" Phil snapped before I could leave.

I whirled, black dress twisting around my body. "What?!" I retorted angrily. "What could you possibly say that would make me feel better?! This was my fault!"

Phil shook his head and took a single step closer to me. "I know how much you loved Dan. I know how big of an influence he was in your life. This pain is killing you. You love with your entire heart. You always love something with one-hundred-percent. You don't know anything less. You don't know how." As he spoke he took careful, slow, measured steps closer to me until he was only a few inches away. "It's one of the many reasons Dan and I love you so much. Your passion for things you love is always so evident in your face when you talk about them. One time, Dan and I were playing Rainbow Road on Mario Kart and Dan said, out of the blue, 'Remember Star's face when she used to talk about space with us?' We both smiled. So yeah. I know how badly this hurts. But you can't put your walls up now. It wasn't your fault." Phil ignored the frightened look on my face as he gathered me into his arms and stroked my hair.

I gave up.

I started crying.

Burying my face in his chest and feeling my nose pressed against his tie, I let the tears that I'd been fighting during the whole funeral spill over. My hands curled into fists in the back of his suit coat as I hugged him back fiercely. "That's it. Go ahead and cry. It's okay. It's not your fault," Phil murmured into my hair. I choked another sob out of my throat.

"But it was. I asked him to show me the way to that shop. He stepped out into the road. The cab appeared out of nowhere. He was thrown fifteen feet. It was my fault."

"No," Phil insisted sharply. "It's not your doing. He made his choice not to cross at a traffic light." I couldn't help but smile a little bit. I supposed he was right, but that didn't keep me from feeling guilty. "You aren't allowed to blame yourself. I won't let you. And Dan wouldn't want you to either."

"He's right," a new voice added. I jumped and whirled to look at the coffin.

Standing next to it—with legs fading into thin air—was a half-transparent version of Dan. He was smirking with that little sideways smile that made his dimple sink into his cheek. There was his good-humored twinkle in his dark eyes. Phil and I stared for several silent moments before simultaneously rushing over. "What—? How—?" I stammered. My mouth gaped open and closed like a fish as I stared at him. He was in one of his T-shirts and what looked like his favorite black skinny jeans.

He shrugged. "Last goodbye. It wasn't your fault, Star. It was just me being an idiot," he told me. "And Phil, good luck. I'll be waiting—but make sure you don't join me any time soon, you hear?"

Phil smiled a bit and nodded. "I hear."

Dan gave me a pointed look. I nodded too. "Okay," I muttered. "I'll try not to blame myself."

"Make sure you don't." He gave us his last, final goodbyes before his ghostly form slowly fizzled out from the feet up. He gave us his best smile as he phased out of reality—and a cheeky little wave. I rested my forehead on Phil's shoulder as the last vestige of Dan vanished. At least for the moment, the tears had subsided.


End Note: In one of Phil's Tumblr videos they joke that every time they read FanFiction Phil is dead and Dan said, "Stop killing Phil in your fiction, okay? It's my turn!" So I wrote this one!

To "RussianAssassin": I haven't seen the new CA:CW trailer yet to avoid spoilers, but I'm glad my fluffy writing made you feel better!

Thank you for reading! If you have any questions or comments, feel free to leave them!

~Cass