"Phil? Phillllll? Phiiiiiil?"

Phil's eyes flickered open and the first thing he saw was a very familiar smile.

"…Dan?" He stuttered. He couldn't see properly but he'd know that smile anywhere.

"Hey, Phil, are you OK?" Dan asked, squeezing his hand.

"I don't know…" Phil replied. His voice breaking.

Dan reached to the side to pick up Phil's glasses and slide them onto his face.

Phil blinked as his vision adjusted and saw, sat in front of him, kneeling on the floor and resting his arms on the mattress… Dan.

"You forgot to set your alarm," he whispered, "I came to see if you were awake and you looked a bit-" and here he paused as he saw his friend's face, "Have you been crying?"

Phil looked at him with the biggest, bluest eyes Dan had ever seen him make and blinked once,

"Maybe," he admitted, guiltily.

Dan's grin fell,

"It happened again, didn't it?" He sighed.

Phil nodded, smearing a wet tear-stain down his blue mattress. His top three shirt buttons had come undone in his fidgety sleep and his hair was a complete mess.

"Hey, it's OK," Dan smiled, weakly, patting his shoulder and correcting his fringe, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'd rather not right now," Phil yawned, leaning on his elbow and sitting up.

"It'll make you feel better," Dan insisted, "And you know you can tell me anything. I won't laugh, I promise."

Even with his usually pallid skin, Phil still looked pale – to the point of being ghostly, almost. He held his arms out for a hug, which Dan gave him and noticed that he felt thinner than usual. Thinking back, Dan realised he'd hardly seen Phil eat anything for a few days. What could be so horrible about these dreams to be enough to put him off his food?

"It felt so real," Phil mumbled, his voice muffled by Dan's t-shirt (the same one he had been wearing in the dream), "I thought you were really gone."

"Well, I'm not," Dan assured him, rubbing his back.

"How do I know this isn't a dream?" Phil asked.

"Don't ask that," Dan replied, "You'll make me have another existential crisis," he laughed, quietly, and though he smiled, Phil still wasn't convinced that he was in the real world.

"It was horrible, Dan," he choked, "And so vivid."

"Tell me everything that happened, from start to finish," Dan ordered, letting go of him and sitting down next to him on the bed.

"From start to finish?" Phil repeated, sitting up properly and resting his head on the bed frame.

Dan nodded and put his arm around his shoulders.

And so Phil begrudgingly told him everything: about walking down to Starbucks, huddled together in the freezing cold, about how the café was almost completely empty when they got there. Admittedly, he realised he should have noticed it was a dream sooner, with how barren everywhere was. But it started off as a good dream until the 'incident' happened – they all did, in fact. So Phil told Dan about how he'd found him, blood-splattered and covered in scratches, and how he'd stayed with him for at least half an hour, just crying into his limp form. Dan stayed silent throughout all of this and didn't make any eye contact, but Phil could tell that he had tears in his eyes. After all, hearing in detail about your friend mourning your dead body must be pretty upsetting.
"I don't know what happened at the end," Phil concluded, "But there were these two bright lights like headlights speeding towards me. I think it must have been a car. Whatever it was, it hit me and that's when I woke up. That wasn't upsetting, though," he mentioned, "In fact, I was glad we died together. I hope we die together, Dan."

Dan smiled,

"I mean, it'd have to be some sort of really random freak accident, but it's not impossible," he replied.

"Knowing me, that's not too unlikely," Phil yawned.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," Dan said, standing up suddenly.

"Where are you going, Dan?"

"I'll be back in a second. In the meantime, you might want to button your shirt," and he disappeared into his room.

Phil did as told and waited for Dan to return. He came back a few moments later, holding his little book about dreams,

"Apparently dreaming about your friend dying means that you're scared that you'll lose that friend," he said, plonking himself down next to Phil on the bed.

"Oh," Phil replied, simply.

"Do you think that that could be it?" Dan smiled.

Phil shrugged. He didn't know why he would suddenly be scared of losing Dan, but that seemed like the only explanation and it did make sense…

"If that is it…"Dan continued, "You know you don't have to worry: I'm not going anywhere, you hear? I'm staying right here by your side. Not that we're apart much anyway… I want you to remember that I'm always right here. And if it makes you feel better, we can spend the whole of today together and I promise that I won't leave your side for more than five minutes. Do you think that would help, Phil?" He asked, a smile on his face.

Phil didn't reply.

"Phil?" Dan repeated, looking down to his friend.

But Phil never got to hear the end of Dan's soothing words because he had fallen sound asleep on his shoulder.

And, for the first time in weeks, no nightmares at all were to be had that night.