Jen: thank you! Phil accepts your hug because who cares about a fourth wall? Bella: I'm sorry, I hope this chapter makes you a little happier!
chapter 3: thankful enough
There's nothing quite like waking up to the reminder that everything you love will ultimately be destroyed by those who see themselves as superior to you.
Phil groans the very second his eyes open, partly because he can feel the soil under his shirt and partly because his arms ache. He can't do anything about the former without using the effort he doesn't have so he chooses to twist and lie on his back, lifting his arms up to see that, sure enough, he has bruises from where Eric's minions had been holding him.
Sighing, he lets his arms fall back down and just looks at the roof, at the sky through the roof, at the clouds in the sky that look happier than freedom through the roof. He can hear gentle music playing somewhere so he eventually closes his eyes, losing himself in the melody of whatever's being played and imagining what it would be like to have something so beautiful written for him. It ends too soon and he's forced to sit up, to blink past the initial dizziness and remember where he is.
"I hate you," Phil mutters to Eric, even though Eric is probably still asleep and wouldn't listen to him even if he was awake.
Tears blossom in his eyes when he sees the torn petals and the ripped leaves strewn over the floor. They're beyond saving, killed for no worthy reason, but the succulents aren't. Some of them are, Phil decides as he chooses against trying to superglue the broken ones back together, but there are a few surviving leaves.
With a small but renewed determination, he finds the lid of the box they'd stepped on and cracked yesterday and clears a small patch of floor to place it on before scooping up handfuls of soil and carefully playing the remaining succulent leaves on top, hoping they can grow once more. It takes more out of him than he'd thought it would but he doesn't stop until he's searched for and found every single remaining succulent segment he can find, making sure they're all comfortable on their life-after-deathbed. Then and only then does he collapse again, exhausted and slightly demotivated by the number of flowers he'd further crushed by trying to salvage his home.
It escapes his notice that a whimper leaves his mouth when he ends up lying on his back again, a relentless sound that fades to a soft, guttural whine and carries on until he's back to sobbing, back to hating everything around him – except the plants, of course, he can't hate them because they're done nothing but die for him.
"Phil? Sh- Phil! Hey, are you okay?"
There's an unceremonious crashing noise but then the greenhouse lock is opening and there's a distinct smell of smoke as someone drops to their knees beside him.
Phil just shakes his head, feeling the tears roll sideways, too tired to even pretend he's fine, then tries to remember who this gentle voice belongs to and why they're talking to him. Brown eyes and curly hair emerge from his memories, tagged with that voice, and he wonders if he's dreaming but he's pretty sure even his dreams can't imagine anyone who cares for him at this point. After all, he's pretty sure he's read somewhere that you can't make up faces in your dreams.
"Phil? Can you hear me? This is going to be hella awkward if you're asleep."
Somehow, that makes him laugh. Once he laughs, Phil realises the dull sound of pain he'd been hearing had been his own. He cracks his eyes open again and looks up to see Dan nervously smiling down at him.
"Oh, thank Muse," Dan breathes, sitting back for a second before his tense expression comes back into view. "Think you can sit up?"
Phil nods and pulls himself onto his elbows, flinching when Dan steadies him but then offering a smile when the other boy's expression morphs into one of guilt and just accepting the help, eventually propping himself up on the wall of the greenhouse.
"I'm sorry," Phil says immediately. "For yesterday…"
Dan frowns for a second before shaking his head. "No, I- it wasn't you, don't worry. I just, uh, I didn't want you- I thought you were scared of me."
"I am scared of you," Phil replies, "but only because you stole part of my garden."
Dan's expression goes from horror to resignation to confusion to relief to guilt and then back to confusion again in under twenty seconds. "I… what?"
"I guess it doesn't really matter now, does it?" Phil asks bitterly, sighing.
"Do you mean the sucky lint?" Dan asks, his voice small and the words rushed as if he's not sure what he's saying.
Blinking, Phil tilts his head to the side and wonders if he'd misheard. "Succulent?"
After cursing under his breath, Dan goes slightly pink but nods. "Yeah, that. Uh, I didn't steal it, I borrowed it. I was going to ask but you looked way too cute when you were asleep so I was just hoping you wouldn't notice…" He fumbles with his jacket for a second before producing the succulent, pot and all, from his pocket, smiling apologetically.
Phil just stares at him. He shouldn't assume this is some elaborate metaphor but this boy, this thief, has just brought back a piece of his garden, a piece of his world, and Phil so desperately wants to take this as a sign that his heart can be rebuilt, replanted, regrown.
Realising that Dan is starting to get a little worried again, Phil takes the pot from him and gently places it next to the row of succulent survivors as if it's some sort of parental mascot for them. He lets his eyes start to close again second but he's snapped back into the present when Dan whistles.
"Phil, what exactly happened?"
It doesn't take a genius to figure out what Dan's asking, it wouldn't even take a toddler to work it out because there are very few things that can be asked by someone who's practically a stranger but also the closest thing you have to a friend and has just noticed that the place you've told them is your home is in ruins.
Phil shrugs. "They just went a bit further than usual this time."
He doesn't know what he'd expected from Dan but a look of absolute shock and disgust was not it. Dan's face is the epitome of rage as he glances to the house and then over the tiny bits of the garden Phil had managed to salvage earlier. His gaze goes back to Phil, searching his face as if it's full of answers before he frowns again, his undivided attention returning to Phil once again.
He reaches forward and gently brushes his fingers over Phil's cheek, wiping the last of the tears away, before retreating once again, apparently unaware that he'd stolen Phil's breath with the small gesture. "What happened to your face?"
Confused, Phil reaches up to touch his face in the same spot Dan had, wincing when he pokes one of the small cuts the succulent had unwillingly made when it'd been thrown at him. In response to Dan, he points to the succulent fragment he can see, hoping that's explanatory enough.
"Oh, damn. I'm sorry."
"Why?"
Dan looks confused for a second before saying, "Because you were hurt after I left and I could have been there to help you…"
Something inside of Phil warms up and he thinks it might be his heart because he ends up smiling happily at the thought of someone caring about him, wanting him to he safe and spared from pain. But then he remembers who it is that cares about him.
"What, so that you could steal more things?" Phil asks, folding his arms.
"Huh?" Dan looks genuinely confused but Phil isn't buying it, he's had enough of being gullible.
He scowls. "I know you were just using me to steal stuff. Like it's a coincidence that there was a burglary bad enough to call the police the very day we met."
There's a moment of silence before Dan splutters, "What? Phil, no! I didn't use you! I don't steal- I haven't stolen from you, I swear."
Phil pointedly points to the succulent.
"Okay, that was an exception! I just needed a reminder so I could- doesn't matter. But, honestly, I haven't stolen anything else from you." Dan's eyes are pleading with him as he throws his hands up in surrender, keeping them in the air as if that will prove something.
"Am I meant to just believe you?" Phil asks, raising an eyebrow as he subconsciously moves backwards, his sense of self-preservation telling him to get away before he gets hurt because that's just what it expects from people now.
"Yes! I promise... I swear on my life."
Phil's tempted to argue that Dan probably could have chosen something more realistic to swear on but he can practically see the sincerity radiating from Dan so he just nods, trying his best to believe it. It might help that, deep down, he wants to believe it.
"Then where did you go?" his voice is quiet because he can't make up his mind but they're in such close proximity that it doesn't go unheard.
"I have a curfew," Dan says without missing a beat so Phil figures he's either telling the truth or he's really good at lying. "I have to get back before sunrise and I didn't want to wake you so…"
There's still a massive part of Phil that can't believe he's lucky enough to have someone that's not a thief who cares for him but he figures that, if Dan had wanted to murder him, he'd had plenty of chances already so he might as well give this a go and hope for the best.
So he settles with saying: "Okay."
"Okay? What do you mean, okay?" Dan's eyebrows furrow but Phil just waits, smiling. Eventually, Dan grins back and his dimples make a quick cameo before he says, "Thank you. Hey, where did that crown go?"
"We're probably sitting on its remains," Phil replies bluntly, knowing he would have laughed at himself had he not been talking about his favourite and only accessory.
"Oh, sh- orry! It was kind of cute actually," Dan admits and Phil blushes before finally looking away from Dan, fiddling with the hem of his creased shirt because he doesn't know how to respond to anything so kind.
"Thanks," he mumbles after he's added another crease to his shirt.
"But that shirt is the ugliest thing I've ever seen."
"Hey!" Phil crosses his arms again. "Just because it's not black doesn't mean it's ugly."
Dan laughs but doesn't seem convinced. "It is the most horrible thing I've ever seen and you can't convince me otherwise unless you manage to find and show me something that we can both agree looks worse."
Phil grins, loving a challenge that doesn't involve fighting. "I would but I don't have a mirror on me."
When the meaning of Phil's words sinks in, the affronted look on Dan's face is nothing less than priceless. In fact, it's so priceless that the broken garden around him seems acceptable if the two are paired together.
"You are pushing the limits, flower king." If Dan had meant to sound threatening, it doesn't work because he's still smiling widely with a slightly dazed appreciation dancing in his eyes.
"King?" Phil asks, his laughter replaced by a pleasant confusion.
"You have a crown, don't you?" Dan asks, then bites his lip before adding, "Well, not right now, but I'm sure you have another one you can wear, right?"
Phil giggles before shaking his head sadly. "I'd love to but no, I don't."
Now the expression on Dan's face looks akin to the expression of a personal assistant who'd just learned that their boss and role-model in life is secretly a serial killer who uses the hair of their previous victims to strangle their next victim. Simply put, he looks extremely distressed.
"You only had one?"
"Yeah, I found it in the attic," Phil admits, his face heating up in embarrassment.
Dan blinks. "What? Wait, they tore apart your only flower crown?"
Phil winces. "Yeah, can we not rub it in…?" Then, seeing the angry look on Dan's face, he backtracks. "Uh, we can totally rub it in if that's what you want, I'm sorry, please don't hurt the plants!"
"I'm not going to…" Dan trails off, looking annoyed but not at Phil. "I would never hurt you."
Smiling, Phil nods in gratitude, then lets his muscles relax and breathes for a minute. "Sorry. I just..."
Dan offers him a kind smile in return. "It's okay. I wasn't mad at you anyway."
But that implies he was mad at someone. It takes Phil a minute to realise that Dan was angry on behalf of him, not at him. He was mad at Eric and his minions for ruining the flower crown, not at Phil for having let the flower crown be destroyed. The realisation warms his heart and makes him smile again.
Apparently hungry for attention, Phil's stomach makes its discomfort known by loudly grumbling.
Dan looks bemused until something dawns on him. "Didn't you have breakfast?"
"We had a lot of pasta after you left yesterday..." Phil tells him, smiling sheepishly.
"That's not..." Dan looks like he's in pain and Phil can't figure out why; It's not like they have a symbiote relationship and one of their diets directly affects the other's health.
"I'll go grab some fish and chips, okay? That's the closest thing to here, don't go anywhere."
Dan stands up but Phil shakes his head. "It's okay, I was going to get something from the house later."
"The door was locked, how were you going to do that?" Dan asks softly, a gentle accusation laced into his tone.
Phil shrugs. "I've gone longer without food, it's fine."
"What? No..." Dan bites his lip, winces as he disturbs the piercing on his lower lip, and shakes his head. "No, I'm going to get you lunch and you're not going to argue. Understood?"
Slightly intimidated by his command, Phil nods silently.
"I'm sorry, I keep doing the scaring thing and-" Dan cuts himself off but forces a smile onto his face even though the two of them both know he just feels guilty for scaring Phil again.
"I'll, um, be waiting? It's not like I'm meant to be able to go anywhere."
Dan nods absently, then walks over to the door. "Do I have to lock you back in?"
He wants to say no, he really does, but Phil nods. "That's probably best."
So Dan does, he steps outside and locks the door, then apologies twice before giving Phil a small wave and running at the fence, tucking his knees in as he jumps over it. This is followed by a painfully dull thud - which is probably him landing not so well - but Phil is in awe, amazed at how jumping can look so fluid and impressive.
He sighs as he glances around, deciding that if Dan does come back, they're not going to eat whilst surrounded by a mess of compost and broken foliage.
Grudgingly, he moves his aching limbs and starts to push all the soil to one side, picking out the leaves and petals, which he piles up in a corner. His nails aren't that long but they're long enough to collect soil underneath and become black by the time he's halfway done. Not that it stops him. He carries on, thankful for something to do with his time, even when the sight of his crushed roses makes him cry again, until the mess is significantly more organised and there's enough space in the centre of the greenhouse for two people to sit without having to get dirty.
He's sweating and tired and seriously hungry by the time he's done so he just leans against the corner again and closes his eyes, breathing deeply.
Once he's recovered, he wonders how long that had taken him. The sun is almost ready to set so he's obviously lost track of time whilst cleaning, which means that Dan is either a little later than planned due to some unforeseen factors, food takes longer than he'd thought to order and collect, or he'd stupidly fallen for the lies of yet another charming person. His nose prickles with the threat of tears as he wonders whether he's just been abandoned yet again but, just as he's about to break down, there's a rustling at the back of the garden.
He jumps as a black shoe appears, slowly, carefully followed by the rest of a body, but manages to grin away his looming heartbreak when he sees Dan's bashful smile.
He's balancing two typical plastic takeaway boxes in his hands so opening the door takes him longer this time but he does it, sliding inside and grinning at Phil, whistling in admiration as he sees the clear space. Phil waits until Dan's put the food down before launching himself at the other boy, not even thinking about it. He wraps his arms around Dan's torso and almost sobs with relief when the other boy doesn't fade under Phil's touch.
"You came back," Phil breathes happily, thankfully.
Dan awkwardly pats his back before hesitantly letting his arms rest against Phil's back. "I try not to break the promises I make to adorable boys."
Phil blushes and pulls away, highly doubting that smelling of sweat and being covered in dirt can be called adorable.
"I'm so sorry it took so long! I, uh, there was a slight complication..." Dan sounds like he doesn't want to talk about it so Phil doesn't push it, content with him coming back at all.
He doesn't get a chance to ask anyway because his stomach rumbles and he doubles over, wincing, immediately steadied by Dan, who guides him down to a more comfortable sitting position.
"I'm sorry, I should have gotten back sooner, you haven't eaten all day," Dan mutters quickly, but then picks up one of the plastic boxes. "Here, it's fish and chips, as promised."
Phil grins as he opens the lid, the delicious scent of vinegar and salt filling the air within seconds.
"Thank you," Phil says softly and his voice might be small but his gratitude isn't. He'd never expected anyone to willingly come back to him, never mind be angry on his behalf and go out of the way to find him something to eat immediately upon learning he's hungry.
He's genuinely so thankful, he's never been so thankful in his life, he's thankful enough to just about kiss Dan in thanks- wait, what?
He shakes his head and shifts his attention back to Dan, who smiles at him and bites into a chip, gesturing for him to do the same, which he does, his stomach now thankful enough to stop rudely complaining and let him enjoy the food. Once he finishes the first chip and starts the second without missing a beat, Dan beams at him, almost proudly, and says, "You're so frickin welcome."
Happy Pride Month! I'm saying that at the end of every chapter I write in June, sorry not sorry! I mean there are literally 15 people who've clicked on this so it's not like i'm annoying the masses...
Thanks for reading! Please review! Like it? Spot mistakes? Want to see something else?
