Those fourteen days had been no less difficult for Dan. In the beginning, he'd let his anger and frustration take over. He had taken various options into consideration, the first being asking a friend for hospitality.
However, once Dan's more rational, reasonable side had taken over, he had realized a friend wouldn't have done.
He'd had no desire to explain why he was taking a break from Phil, or to give some kind of reason for his fowl mood and irritability.
Finally, after having regained some sense, he had opted for his parent's house.
He had realized they would have been away for a while and that he still had the key to the front door.
Although Dan had had no idea as to how long he would've wanted to keep his distance from Phil, he'd realized he would have had all the time in the world to think of an explanation for his parents, once they'd come home.
And so the days had passed for Dan as well; miserably, mostly, as he thought back on Phil's words.
I'm messing up your life. The words had spun round and round in Dan's head, leaving no room for anything else.
The silence of his cell-phone had made the situation that much worse; hadn't Phil been even remotely worried? Hadn't he cared if Dan was alive or dead? Hadn't he cared at all?
These had been the thoughts that had tormented Dan to the point where he had decided to go back.
The silence had become unbearable and so had the loneliness.
So, exactly two weeks later, there he was: standing in front of the door and wondering if he really would be able to face Phil after all.
After a while, he decided that the time had finally come to put his thoughts aside and face the truth.
Having fished the key out of his pocket, he stuck it forcefully in the lock, turned it and opened the door.
In no way was he prepared for the scene which greeted him with brutal simplicity.
Phil had turned, at the sound of the door being opened, and stood there staring at Dan with a pitiful, almost crazed expression on his face.
Dan could tell his friend hadn't been eating nearly enough by the way his pajamas sagged on the body which had already been lean to begin with.
As for the rest...Phil's dark hair was unkempt and fell in messy locks across his forehead and his eyes. His eyes...Dan thought he heard his heart crack as he took in the sight of his friend's eyes, which, from a brilliant blue, now seemed faded, dull and empty from lack of sleep.
He's been crying, Dan thought, just before another terrible crack seemed to reach his ears.
It was true: Phil had cried, but after a while he'd had no tears left, which had left him in a state of permanent hopelessness.
«Phil, I...» Dan wasn't sure it had been his voice to break the silence until he saw a flicker of life flash across Phil's eyes. «I'm sorry. » He added, while he averted his gaze, not being able to sustain the pitiful sight of his friend merely standing there.
«You're back. » The answer didn't sound like anything Phil would've said, nor did the accusing tone Dan picked out from those few words. That alone made Dan hurt even more.
Guilt worked its way into his heart; Phil had only wanted to help and how had he repaid him?
By abandoning him. Betraying him.
«Yeah, I'm back. I can go, if you- »
«No. » Phil's voice cut in, regaining a bit of the vitality it had lost. «No- » He repeated, softening his tone and slowly shaking his head. «Stay. Please, stay. »
He moved his hair away from his eyes and then looked at Dan. He stared and said nothing else, although the relief he felt was obvious. Dan spoke once again, forcing his voice to sound strict, but failing miserably. «It's your fault, you know. »
His friend just stared, tilting his head slightly to the side with a vaguely puzzled expression on his face.
Dan stifled a sigh, before moving a bit closer to his friend and continuing. «You shouldn't have said that. » He awaited a response, frowning a little.
Phil however, seemed lost, as if he could've fainted at any moment.
Even his voice sounded weaker than usual as he muttered. «What did I say? »
Dan had practiced that speech for so long, but the sight of his friend and the condition he was in was enough to kill the words even before they'd made it to his lips. «Phil, are you o- »
Dan hadn't even been able to finish his sentence before Phil toppled over and managed to stay standing only by leaning against the fridge.
«Jesus, Phil-! » The younger one muttered before rushing to his friend's aid.
He was somehow able to drag and help Phil in bed, while he cursed under his breath, all the while wishing he'd never left.
Once Phil had been tucked under the covers, Dan pondered on what his next move should be.
He came to the conclusion that tea would be good for Phil...Whatever Phil was suffering from.
So Dan left the bedroom to boil some water, even if he had no clue as to when Phil would wake up.