A/N: So Dan and Phil uploaded half way through writing this and they just so happened to age Dab up into a toddler, so I had to re-write the last half of Chapter 9 to make it relevant. You might want to go back and read that before this one, just to refresh your memory. Hope you're all enjoying the story, by the way! It took me a while to write this chapter because I had no idea where I was going, but be assured that Chapter 11 won't be far away. In other news, I started a forum (link to it in my profile) so if you want to chat about the story (or just Dan and Phil in general) be sure to pop by and say hello. Until next time, Ciao!
One of the worst and strangest feelings in the world is the feeling of being tired – exhausted even – but not being able to fall asleep. This feeling is commonly known as insomnia.
Both Dan and Phil were experiencing this right now: they were tired, deadbeat, but however hard they tried, there was nothing they could do to shut their minds off.
There was something about finally being warm and safe in a place they never thought they'd see in their lives. It was too surreal and dream-like, as though if they fell asleep now, they'd wake up back in their apartment and their adventure would be over. And even though they really, really wanted to go home, there was still so much of the Sims universe to explore – and they'd only just made friends with Dil and Tabitha, too – and so many more people to meet.
So now they lay – Dan huddled up on the soft rug, half buried in cushions, the warmest eiderdown in the world covering him whilst Phil was curled up on the sofa with a pillow and a relatively thin blanket (they had both agreed this was a good arrangement, as, as Dan had said, Phil just really needed to calm down, and Dan liked camping, so being on the floor didn't really bother him) – and they tried to fall asleep.
The emphasis here falls on the word 'tried'.
It was currently twelve in the morning, pitch black and so silent that you could hear a pin drop.
It was quite magical, actually; so different to sleeping at home with noisy traffic outside and bright lights flashing through the curtains. But maybe being away from that familiar environment was what made it so hard to sleep, or maybe it was the fact that they were sleeping in their clothes instead of cuddly fleece pyjamas. But the sleeplessness also acted as a good time to think: reflecting on the day behind them. They'd made a few mistakes, of that they were aware, but they'd also made two new friends, and that was what mattered in the end, whether they were stuck or not.
"Dan…" Phil whispered, eventually, turning his head to his left where he would have been able to see his friend had it not have been so dark and had a coffee table not been in the way.
"Yes, Phil?" Dan replied, sleepily, sounding only half conscious.
"Do you think we'll ever remember what happened?" Phil asked as he rolled over.
"Of course we will," Dan nodded, deciding to be positive for once – for Phil's sake – and smiling, comfortingly, even though Phil couldn't even see his face, "Then we'll figure out a way to get out and we'll go home. Trust me."
"If you say so," Phil sighed before yawning. As much as he loved this world with all its eccentricities, there was still a part of him that needed to feel secure again. He always felt safe until everything he knew was ripped away from him and he ended up on a road in the middle of nowhere, but at least he had his best friend there to comfort him: he didn't know what he would do if he didn't.
"Dan," Phil started again, "Uh… thank you, by the way. You know, for not getting mad at me. I really appreciate it…"
But he got no response.
"…Dan?.." he repeated, confused, "...Oh, you're asleep… OK… well, goodnight…" he mumbled, pulling the sheet around his shoulders again.
And just that flimsy sheet makes it just the right temperature, and that was all he needed to fall into a deep sleep.
Morning broke with birdsong, the first rays of dawn shining through the window and into the lounge, reflecting from the fish bowl and onto the settee.
Phil could only just sense the daylight as he had covered his whole head with the sheet and the light was only just able to shine through. He awoke slowly, stirring slightly before flickering his eyes open and immediately becoming very confused as to where he was.
He fuzzily pushed the white sheet off his face and saw the sights of the living room, the dust particles in the air showing up and floating about in the sunlight flooding through the window.
Giving a quiet yawn, he sat up, leaning on his shoulders, his vision still blurry. He soon saw that he was the only one awake.
Stumbling to his feet, he got up and gently padded to the bathroom to find his contact lenses so he could actually see.
It was strange waking up in somebody else's house, being the only one awake and everything being silent: it was rather unreal, in fact. Almost like he shouldn't be awake at this time without permission.
The cold tiles under his feet, Phil staggered over to the sink where he was 90% sure he'd left a box containing his contacts.
He found it, sure enough, and somehow managed to put them in his eyes even though he couldn't really see anything.
Looking up, he inspected himself in the mirror and saw his messed up hair (that had once again flicked upwards into a quiff) and the dreary look in his eyes.
"I'm a mess," he sighed, running the cold tap until the sink was filled and subsequently sticking his face in it to wake him up.
He was usually OK with mornings, but he hadn't had much sleep that night. To be more specific, he'd had less sleep than usual, because it was currently seven o'clock and that wasn't usually his waking time. Nor was it Dan's, evidently.
Phil dried his face with the towel on the rail (that he really hoped hadn't been used before), brushed out his fringe, yawned, stretched and stuck his hands in his back pockets as he made his way back into the lounge.
As he got through the door, he cast a glance down to see Dan fast asleep, curled up into a ball, looking cosy as could be, the most peaceful of expressions upon his face.
Phil smiled at him for a moment before re-directing to the kitchen and opening the overhead cupboard doors as softly as he could as he searched about for wherever the coffee was kept, yet there was none to be found. This was due to the lack of a coffee machine: it was actually a tea maker.
Looks like he wouldn't be having his coffee this morning. Tea it would have to be. So he grabbed some random tealeaves, put them in the machine and turned it on.
Why couldn't they just have a kettle?
The tea maker inevitably started creating noise as soon as it was turned on and this unsurprisingly woke Dan Howell, who had been rather enjoying his sleep.
Phil felt a bit guilty about that, but tea was more important than a lie-in.
"Good morning!" He smiled, wanly, resting his arms on the kitchen counter.
"Good morning…" Dan yawned back, snuggling back down into his blanket cave of warmth, "Are you making coffee?"
"Tea, I'm afraid," Phil replied, drumming his fingers on the countertop, "Didn't have any coffee. Did you sleep alright?"
"Strangely enough, better than normal," Dan said, rubbing his eyes and covering his mouth with his duvet. He didn't want to get up: he was so comfortable, "Guess I was tired. How long have you been up?"
"Not long. Twenty minutes? Everyone else is asleep – even Dab – I was just waiting for you, really. Tea?" Phil offered.
"Sure, thanks," Dan nodded, sitting up, "Will you be alright without caffeine? Try not to fall asleep on me, won't you?"
Phil laughed, taking two cups from the cupboard and setting them down.
"I'll try," he smiled as the water finished boiling and he could pour the tea into them. He'd never really been a tea person, but today he'd have to make an exception. Maybe he could find a café or something later and have a coffee there, instead.
"Here you go," he breathed, walking over into the living room to hand Dan his cup.
"Thanks," Dan smiled, gratefully, taking it, "How are you feeling this morning?"
"I'm OK," Phil replied, running his fingers through his fringe and trying to give it some volume, "Feels like a lazy morning today," he continued, making his way drearily back to the kitchen to get his own tea because it was best to only carry one cup at a time when you were this tired.
"What are we supposed to do now?" He asked when he came back to sit at Dan's feet, on top of a cushion.
"Enjoy ourselves!" Dan answered, simply, "We're in a game, Phil: make the most out of it! We probably won't be able to come back once we've gone. What other chance will we get to throw a house party with everyone we've ever met in-game?"
For once, Phil grinned back,
"You're right," he nodded, "It'll be fun once we get into it… won't it?"
"Yeah! Anywhere you fancy going out today?"
"I can't think of anywhere: I don't have the energy," Phil said, staring down into his cup, the steam from the tea drifting up and warming his face, "We could all go out somewhere – us and the Howlters – like a day trip, you know?"
"We'll have to suggest it. Don't know many places to go, like, but I'm sure we'll think of something," Dan agreed.
Phil grinned and looked across to him,
"Thanks, by the way," he said, "For not getting mad at me. I can be a bit much sometimes, I know, but you didn't yell and I appreciate it."
"Aw, that's OK: I wouldn't yell," Dan replied, "Not at my best friend; don't worry. Now drink your tea, it's gonna' go cold."