"You hate her, don't you?" PJ asked just moments after Georgia, his not-quite-girlfriend, left the school cafeteria. The four of them, Chris, PJ, Dan, and Phil, were seated around one of the larger round tables, picking at their lunches and silently thinking about how they were going to spend the rest of their Saturday.
"We don't… hate her," Chris spoke up, "She's just… not what we expected for you. Well, not what I expected for you, I can't really speak on behalf of anyone else."
"I liked her," Phil said, Chris and Dan turned to look at him, a little shocked, "She's nice," he justified as Chris opened his mouth to probably object, "She's a little weird, but I like her and I think that we should get to know her better," he smiled.
"Thank you!" PJ gasped, "I don't understand why you don't like her," he says, turning to Chris and Dan, "You two are… well, to be fair, Dan you're an absolute mess and I had every right not to like you at first, and Chris, you're really… you know what you are, but Georgia, she's cool. She's upbeat, she's-"
"Loud? Opinionated? Intimidating?" Dan suggested,
"She is," PJ confirmed, "And there's nothing wrong with that. I like her opinions, and I like how she made you and Chris feel too uncomfortable with them to even contribute. It's a strange quality, but it's just that, a quality."
"Okay, yeah, and she was actually really pretty…" Dan joined, earning a glare from Phil.
Despite it being three and a half weeks since the incident with the hospital, and the blood, and the shower, Phil was still having some issues in fully re-establishing his trust with Dan. Phil couldn't express how many times he'd held his breath before walking into their shared room for fear of finding his lifeless body on the floor. Thankfully, that hadn't happened, but the fear was still there. Phil just didn't trust that Dan wouldn't do something like that to him, and when that trust was broken, everything just went right out the window with a heave and a ho. If Dan was willing to almost kill himself, then what would really be stopping Dan from doing something else to hurt Phil, like cheating on him, or legitimately turning up dead one day?
"Was she, Dan?" Phil asked, only loud enough for Dan to hear. Dan didn't answer him.
"Just give her a chance," PJ pleaded, "She probably doesn't think you're all head cases, so the least you could do is assume the best of her too."
"So, by assuming we're not crazy is assuming the best of us?" Chris asked,
"To be honest, it's assuming the better of some of us," Phil answers sourly.
"Phil, seriously…" Dan started softly,
"Don't 'seriously' me, Dan," Phil shook his head, standing from the table and power walking out of the large room.
"What did you do now?" PJ asked Dan once Phil was out of earshot,
"Nothing!" Dan defended with an eye roll, "I haven't done anything; he's just been like this all week. He was fine and now suddenly he hates me all the time."
"Have you been going to your appointments like you promised him?" Chris asked, and Dan nodded.
"Have you done anything different?" PJ asked with a shrug,
"I've gone out a few times?" Dan said, "Like, I have other friends too, you know?"
"Drugs?" Chris asked this time, and PJ's eyes widened, looking between the two of them,
"Nothing that leaves tracks…" Dan confessed,
"Tracks?" PJ repeated, confused,
"Could he have found anything?" Chris continues, ignoring PJ,
"Is this something you two do? Hide drugs in our rooms? Do you not notice that I am literally right here and that I share a room with you, Chris?" PJ spoke up.
"No, Peej, it's not something we do. It's not a secret plan or something, but it's something that's happened before, remember?" Chris explained, pushing his hair from his face a little more.
"I don't keep anything in the room," Dan lied.
"But what are tracks?" PJ asked again; no one answered him.
Once Dan had finished lunch, he headed straight back to his room in hopes of finding Phil. He was sick and he was tired of Phil's moodiness and ready to do something about it. He punched in the code after almost having forgotten it, and pushed open the door, finding the room empty. He let out a sigh and rounded the corner into the bathroom. It wasn't empty. Phil was stood in front of the mirrored cabinet, pulling items out and balancing them on the porcelain of the white bathroom sink. He was looking for something.
"I don't hide anything in here anymore," Dan spoke harshly, scaring Phil and causing him to jump a little at the sudden break in silence, "I promised you I wouldn't."
"You promised no drugs in the room and you broke that," Phil shot him a glare, "I know you're using something again."
"Why would you think that?"
"Because I found these," Phil shuffled his hand around in his pocket before pulling out a small, clear, snap-lock bag of white pills and another one full of chopped marijuana, "When you were out last night I was looking for-"
"You were looking for drugs, weren't you?" Dan blinked. Phil shook his head.
"I was looking for razors."
"Why?" Dan shook his head with a sigh, "Honestly, this was nice and sort of endearing at first, but seriously, all you're doing is trying to control me, Phil. You know that I've stopped that after… what happened."
"But you haven't," Phil told him, "At least I don't think you have," he bites his lip, looking down at the ugly carpet. "You've been distant, and going out a lot again, and…"
"And what?! None of those things are proof enough for you to need to go through my crap!"
"You won't take your clothes off if I'm in the room, unless it's dark. That's never been something you do… except when you were hurting yourself. I thought we were getting closer like… that. I thought that… I just- I miss cuddling with you and I miss you trying to talk me out of my clothes, and honestly, it's like we're not even together anymore. It's been like this for almost two weeks. The first week after I was out of hospital, you were exactly like-"
"Like you want me to be, but now I'm acting like myself again and you don't like it?" Dan finished for him,
"No… Dan, I just want you to get better, even if you're not with me, even if it's just for you…" Phil said in a small voice.
"Old habits die hard, Phil, and quite frankly, I like you, but I've relied on all of this for a lot longer than I've relied on you."
"We're friends, Dan… We're more than friends, and you're friends with my friends now, and me and you…" Phil spoke quietly.
"We were a joke, Phil," Dan said, and that's exactly what they were. A joke. Phil was too good for Dan, in Dan's opinion at least, and Dan was always going to go back to what he's grown to know and love. It made him feel free, and all Phil was doing was trying to help, hindering Dan's freedom in the process. Yeah, Dan was trying to get help, but it was a hassle. His heart wasn't in his recovery, he wasn't even sure he wanted to 'get better', he felt fine as he was, and Phil just didn't understand. Phil would never understand. "You're never going to get it. We're too different, and you're too controlling, and you're too controlled – are you ever just going to relax and let people live, or even let yourself live?"
"That's what I'm trying to do! I'm trying to help you live, because eventually you're going to wind up dead!" Phil exclaimed a little louder this time, "I'm not too controlling, or too controlled!"
"You never have fun, Phil," Dan sneered, "All I wanted was to see if I could get in your pants, and really, you're not that fun. It took a fuckload of effort for not much of a reward."
Phil's world stopped for a moment, the only thing he was aware of was the beating of his own heart, which felt like it had been torn from his chest and squeezed into a damaged clump of disgusting human organ. It wasn't real. None of it. Phil felt himself crumble, imploding almost, on the inside, and he gasped for a breath. This wasn't an anxiety attack, but it still felt like he was having a heart attack while having his lungs crushed by an external force. It was heart break, and Phil let the tears out. If it was all a joke, why did it matter? This definitely wouldn't have been the most personal thing Dan had seen, so who really cared? Phil certainly didn't.
"…What?" Phil squeaked into the momentary silence.
"You heard me," Dan said, feeling a similar level of heartache as Phil seemed to be experiencing, the difference being that he had to conceal it. He didn't want to hurt Phil, but it had to happen. It would be easier now than later right? Sure, it wasn't something he had properly thought out, and yes, Dan hadn't really planned on doing this, but it was too late to take it back after the first horrible thing he'd said. He had to roll with it. "Are you going to give that back to me, or are you gonna stand there holding it hostage?" Dan asked, referring to the two tiny bags of illegal substances in Phil's hands.
"These?" Phil questioned, holding them up a little to emphasize them,
"Well what else is a loser like you gonna do with them? It's not like you've ever done anything fun in your pathetic excuse for a life."
"I could give them to the principle," Phil shrugged, and Dan frozen. Shit. "But you know what?"
"What?" Dan swallowed the saliva in his mouth,
"I could liven up my 'pathetic excuse for a life'," Phil let out a short laugh. It barely constituted as a laugh, really, just a single, almost cynical chuckle. Phil watched as Dan rolled his eyes in obvious disbelief of what Phil was saying, so he opened the baggy with the little white pills, poured six into his hand, watching Dan's widening eyes, and placed his thumb over the majority of the white pills in his palm before raising his hand to his mouth and swallowing all that fell into his mouth. He raised his eyebrow at Dan in a dead expression before turning and walking past Dan and out the door to their room, throwing the remaining baggies and their contents over his shoulder in Dan's general direction before wiping his eyes and walking out the door with a mocking, "See-ya, Dan."
