YouNow was the only way Dan could think of to tell everybody the news. He knew it was still early and some people wouldn't see it, but he'd rather only have a small audience instead of thousands.

He hated to be the bearer of bad news and he knew it hadn't been long – only a few hours – but he felt that he needed to inform people as soon as possible.

He opened up his laptop and turned on Google to set everything up.

He waited a few minutes for people to arrive before he cleared his throat and greeted them.

"Hello, internet…" he started, his voice hoarse, his eyes flicking over the chat box.

There were only a few hundred guests in the chat, but they all seemed pretty happy to be there, even if a bit confused. They started to realise something was wrong rather quickly and started to question things.

"I see you realise this isn't my usual… live steaming day… and you might have also realised I'm wearing Phil's shirt. You see, the truth is, I have some really bad news…" Dan coughed.

The chat began to get clearly worried, asking what was wrong and if he was OK.

"I should but it bluntly, really," Dan sighed, "But I'm not sure I can say it. I need you to believe me; this isn't a joke or a prank, this is real…" and he paused as his eyes started to water, "It's about Phil…"

There was an awkward silence as he brought together all of his strength to tell everybody the truth. He didn't know whether he could put it straight without breaking down, but he was going to do his best.

"He's gone," he breathed, "He's dead and gone. Look, I know, I know – I can't believe it, either – and it must be a huge shock for you, too, but I just thought I should tell you. I'm sorry for being so direct, but… it's the only way I could say it."

Nobody said anything for a few seconds before Dan cleared his throat again, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I can't stay, I'm afraid," he said, flatly, "I have to go and… do things. I'll talk to you later and explain a bit more, but right now, I'm going to have a lie down and take it all in. Just don't be too sad, alright? You know he never likes it when people… worry too much… about him. Don't be concerned, I was with him until the end so he wasn't alone, but strangely enough, he didn't seem… sad. It wouldn't be like him if he was, you know? We had a very meaningful conversation and I'll tell you about that later. So just stay put and carry on as usual; we'll get through this together, won't we?" And he gave a weak smile, his voice breaking, "I'll see you all soon, OK? Bye, guys…"

And he ended the live stream to be alone once again.

It wasn't the same anymore.

Everything would resolve itself after a while, he supposed, but for now it was just strange.

Sniffling, Dan turned around to curl up on his bed sheets and think.

He felt that he couldn't cry or else the neighbours would hear him and ask if he was alright and he'd have to explain to them, too. They'd try to comfort him, he knew, but their words would all be in vain; hollow words of reassurance that everything would be OK. Dan didn't want that – not now, at least – he just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts. He didn't want to socialise with anyone ever again, only his best friend, but that was impossible now.

He'd never have anyone to lean on anymore, nobody to hang out with and nobody to live with. He didn't even care about Phil's bad traits anymore – his clumsiness, his midnight cereal-eating, his habit of ruining immersion with inopportune singing – Dan wasn't bothered, he just wanted his friend back.

Their friendship had lasted just over 7 years. It was a good time, Dan supposed, and it really was the most fun he'd ever had.

But he only wished they'd had longer. There were so many more things they could have done…

It didn't have to end like this.

It shouldn't have ended like this.

But it did.

Dan sat hugging his knees and breathed a long, drawn-out sigh of exhaustion.

He needed to stop feeling sorry for himself, he knew that, but he couldn't help but lament.

He dried his eyes and choked, loudly.

He could have said something meaningful to comfort himself – something to encourage him to keep on going – but nothing came to mind. He could only think about his loss.

"PHIL!" He called. Nobody heard him, of course, least of all Phil. But he needed to feel like he was talking to him one last time.

He buried his face in-between his knees and cried.

He felt so alone.

Until he heard a voice. It was a familiar voice, he'd heard it before many times – every day, in fact – so he couldn't help thinking he was imagining it, but he didn't want to believe it was in his head, of course.

"What's wrong, Dan?" It asked.

Dan felt the warm feeling of breath gently brushing against his right ear and he bit his lip, his breath staggered.

"You can talk to me, Dan."

"I don't know what to do…" Dan wheezed.

"What? What's happened?" The voice came again. It was one of those voices that had the ability to make you feel so calm whenever you heard it. A soft voice that sounded kind, not cold or harsh in the slightest. It was deep but enthusiastic; open – and not in a fake way, either. It seemed so real.

The accent was… Northern.

"…Phil?" Dan asked, quietly.

"Yeah?"

He gradually lifted his head and looked across to the window. It was dark outside.

Looking to his right, he saw the familiar face of somebody he thought he'd never see again.

"What are you doing?" Dan asked, innocently.

"You called for me," Phil replied, "I came to see what you wanted."

He was sat right there beside him, his hands on the edge of the bed, in-between his legs, and his back arched.

He'd turned on the lamp on the table beside him so the room was lighter.

Dan could see he looked tired, like he'd only just woken up, but also concerned.

Dan stared back to him, confused. Then he realised what had been going on.

"It happened to me, too…" he sighed.

"What did?"

"The- The dream thing. I know what you meant about it now. It's really vivid, isn't it?"

"Oh… yeah, I mean… yeah, it is…" Phil nodded, appearing surprised.

"It felt like it was going on forever," Dan continued, "But I'm glad it wasn't real life."

"Do you want to talk about it? It helped with me."

"Not yet," he answered, shaking his head and leaning on his friend's shoulder.

"OK then," Phil mumbled. He still had rings under his eyes but he seemed somewhat relieved that Dan wasn't having a heart attack or anything of that ilk.

He gave a smile and a gentle laugh before closing his eyes. He'd had something similar happen to him last year and he'd been rather bothered by it so he felt that the least he could do would be to stay by Dan's side until he felt better. That's what friends are for, of course.

Dan wasn't sure if this was even real life. He wasn't wearing a yellow check shirt any more, so it was certainly different, but how was he to know this wasn't a dream?

He'd just have to wait and find out if he ever woke up. No matter; he didn't even care – wherever he could be with his best friend again, he was happy.

As for whether this is actually dream or reality, that's for you to decide.

END

A/N: As you may or may not have noticed, this story was a sequel to Nightmares, one I wrote last year around November time. If you haven't read that one, it doesn't really matter as there's no references or anything, it was only really an excuse to have the same plot twist twice because however hard I may try, I cannot bring myself to the point of killing Phil. But as I said, it's for you to decide whether this can be a dream or whether Dan's back in reality again. Anyway, besides the point, I hope I haven't mentally scarred you for too long, this is Whisker out.
-Ciao and thank you very much for reading.