A/N GUYS! I only just realised I don't get an e-mail every time you review! OH NOES! So after I've written this chapter I'm going to go through them and reply to anyone I haven't replied to! I'm so sorry; you will all get your replies EVENTUALLY! I want to say thank you to the mysterious guest who likes to call themselves Savanna W, I really enjoy reading your reviews :D I seriously don't even know how many more chapters this is going to take, but you don't seem to mind, so YAY! Much love :3 And guys, I know this is overly angsty for Dan's birthday, I'm sorry!

Happy birthday Dan! We love you, although I wish you would stop aging! Seriously, can you guys imagine Dan and Phil properly old? Like grey a wrinkly? I just imagine them at like 70 years old still playing on the x-box :P

Chapter 29: Losing my mind

He was going to have to leave Phil.

The realisation sunk in slowly, as though it knew it wasn't welcome. Dan brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, holding on tightly. It felt as though he was holding on for dear life, holding onto reality. It hurt, but the pain kept him sane. It stopped him from falling into the dark abyss that were thoughts of life without Phil. He held his knees close, putting pressure onto his still tight chest. He wasn't sure why, but the combination of pain and discomfort caused by the tightness in his chest was better than just the discomfort. He dug his fingernails into his leg, focusing on the pain. The dull ache in his chest, the sharp pain of his nails, the pounding of the coming headache in his temples.

He was going to have to leave Phil

It finished intruding his thoughts, it became fully present. Suddenly tears were spilling down his cheeks and soaking his jeans. His shoulders were shaking, and his whole body was beginning to ache. The pain didn't help anymore though; nothing could keep him where he was. He fell into the thoughts, his future. He remembered what life was like before, the mind straining aloneness. The constant small ache in his chest that was nothing compared to the roaring emptiness that was there now. He remembered the sleepless nights and the empty days. It wouldn't be like that again though, he knew. Back then, he hadn't known what he was missing. He hadn't known how happy he could be. He thought he'd be stuck like that forever, but he'd been proved wrong. That made it worse. He could have continued on like that, but not now. Not after Phil. It would be worse now.

He would be constantly craving, needing the comfort, the happiness that Phil brought him just by being in the same room. He'd fall into the past and be unable to leave. He wouldn't want to leave. Why would he? It was obvious that he would choose to stay in his happy memories than try to move on. To fall back in the routine of moving from home to home, hating school, the routine that had once been his life.

It wasn't just Phil either, although that was the biggest part. He was truly happy here. There was Lucy and Oliver, the feeling of joy they brought him as they smiled up at him. The feeling of pride at his achievements at school. He was starting to have a normal life, and he loved it. He had finally become comfortable with just existing, without questioning, without worrying. He had finally found somewhere where he belonged. He had believed, for the first time ever, that he had found somewhere to stay. He was happy thinking that he was going to stay here, that this place wouldn't become another in the long list of care homes. He had a home again, the first in a long time. No matter where they sent him, that wouldn't change. This would always be his home.

That's when the anger returned, strong and burning. They were taking him away from Phil and away from his home. His veins burned with the pure rage rushing through them, and he stood up quickly. His head spun slightly, but he didn't care. His chest hurt, it was getting worse, but he didn't care. The silence was suffocating, but he didn't care. He stumbled over to the wall, panting slightly, and raised his fist. The need to punch, too kick, not to hurt others, but to hurt himself, overcame him again. He punched the wall with all his strength, and quickly raised his other fist to do the same. He punched the wall over and over, yelling and screaming as he did so. He didn't even know what he was saying. His mind was overflowing with thoughts about Phil, his mum, the way nothing was ever going to go right for him.

The anger left as suddenly as it had arrived, and all he could feel was the pain in his knuckles. He kicked it, frustrated, and felt a sharp pain shoot through his toe. "Fuck" he murmured under his breath, before turning around and sliding down the wall. He stared into space for who knows how long, but was brought back by the pain in his knuckles. He glanced down, holding his hands out in front of him. His eyes widened as he saw the red contrasting his skin. The skin that stretched tightly over his knuckles was shredded and ruby blood was seeping from the wounds. He sighed and placed his hands gently in his lap before twisting slightly to look at the wall. Yep, it was covered in red streaks. How had he not noticed? Oh that's right, he did. He just hadn't cared. He slumped forward slightly, exhaustion finally taking over his body. He was still panting, but there was nothing he could do about it, so he tried to focus on other things.

That's when the silence hit him.

He was gasping for more air, his panting the only thing he could hear. It seemed out of place, wrong. The silence was pushing in on him, and this did not help him relax his breathing. It was pressing in, it felt like his ear drums were going to burst. He did all he could think to do. He started to sing.

If I could find a way to see this straight

I'd run away

To some fortune that I should have found by now

I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down, come down

Of course he couldn't see things straight. He never had been able to, he was pathetic. Whenever anything got serious he had a stupid attack. It was obviously how he coped, because he was too much of a kid to work through his problems like… Phil. He'd found his fortune. Now he was being taken away from it.

Life's too short to even care at all

I'm coming up now, coming up out of the blue

These zombies in the park, they're looking for my heart

A dark world aches for a splash of the sun.

He hated that expression. Life's too short. Life was long and unforgiving, and caring was all it was filled with. Caring about people, which lead to pain. Caring about what people said. More pain. Life was long and full of caring, full of pain. Those idiots in the park, they caused this. If they had just left them alone, Dan would be happy and have something to look forward to. They took his heart and destroyed it. The world was a truly dark place, with very few people like Phil out there to act like splashes of sun. His voice, which had swelled to fill the room, which had destroyed the silence and the pressure along with it for a short while, died in his throat. The room did not fall back into silence however. It swelled with the sound of his gut-wrenching sobs.

He had no clue how long he was in there, but his sobs did not stop. He was still shaking, panting and sobbing when the door swung open. He'd been crying so loudly that he didn't even hear the door being unlocked. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by warmth and he was being held tightly, the smell of peppermint and chocolate bring him back slightly. Phil was holding him tightly and Dan whispered into his hair "My heart is mangled." He wasn't sure what made him say it and he didn't get a chance to think about why before Phil replied "I still want it. It's too beautiful to be abandoned. We'll fix it." He pulled away and his jacket accidently brushed against his hands, causing Dan to wince slightly. Phil glanced down and Dan watched as sadness sprung into his eyes. He gently took one of Dan's hands in his and whispered "What did you do to yourself?" Dan didn't awnser, just flicked his eyes in the direction of the wall. Phil saw the blood streaks, and it didn't take him long to piece it together. He helped him stand gently and then they both faced Dave, who was stood awkwardly in the doorway. Before they could say anything, Dave was talking, pleading "Guys, if there was anything I could do to fix this, I would. I tried convincing them, but they won't listen. It's up to the higher powers." Dan chuckled quietly and said weakly "Sounds like you're talking about something from buffy." Phil giggled slightly too while helping Dan out the room and whispered creepily "Ohhhh, the master!".

A long while later they were slumped in a hallway, holding hands in silence. Dan was slightly annoyed that he couldn't feel the warmth of Phil's skin on his because of the stupid bandages on his hands, but he was pulled out of these thoughts by Phil asking gently "Do you want to talk about it?". Dan stayed quiet for a while, before whispering

I'm losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control.

Phil smiled slightly and replied "I pretty sure we both lost our minds a long time ago".