Phil looked up at PJ as PJ entered the bathroom, gently closing the door behind him.
"Hey Peej," Phil said softly, looking at his feet.
"How are you feeling Phil?"
PJ started taking everything out of the pharmacy bag and put it on the counter.
"Like hell," Phil glanced at his arm.
"Literally," he added.
PJ smiled half-heartedly. "That much pain?"
"No," Phil answered sheepishly.
"No, it's much more than physical pain."
PJ looked up at Phil, confused. Phil sighed and closed his eyes.
"You know what's been going on?" he asked, keeping his eyes closed.
PJ shook his head. "No," realizing Phil couldn't see him.
Phil began telling PJ about the ringing and the migraines that happened a lot when Dan was around. He explained how it had worsened with time, and how ironic it is now that Dan knows about everything, how these episodes are probably going to intensify. He said he's worried that they're going to get worse, and that he's going to hurt himself, or someone else, or Dan. He said he can't remember how it feels to go to bed at night and not have to worry about slipping into a full bloody coma, watch himself do things, not do things, & not have the ability to do anything about it. To have to sit and watch the consequences unfold. To sit and watch the pain that he could inflict on someone. And how he has no control over it.
PJ cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes. "You haven't hurt anyone yet. You would never."
Phil stared at the pattern the tiles made on the floor.
"I would never, but I don't think I'm me anymore."