Phil led the trio up his porch steps, shoes tapping lightly on the splintered wood.

Adrian glanced around, taking in the quickly darkening sky and the rustling of the leaves that layered the yard in brown, orange, and yellow.

Dan nudged him to head into the house first, and he shut the door behind them, locking it securely.

"Leave the lights off," Adrian advised and Dan drew the curtains and blinds to every window.

Phil followed him to the bedroom, where he closed blinds in here as well.

"Dan?"

Dan didn't answer, but pulled the off-white curtain shut.

He turned away again, and crossed in front of Phil, who trailed after him back towards the living room.

"Dan?"

"What?" He stopped in his tracks, twisting on his heel to look at Phil.

Wide-eyed, Phil stepped back, caught off guard by the edge in Dan's voice.

The shadows played on their faces, but their eyes shined with stress and worry, and the denial of fear.

"I'm sorry," Phil said quietly.

"No. I'm sorry, Phil." Dan's expression softened. "You don't know what's going on, and I don't know how to explain. But we're probably in trouble and it's probably all my fault."

"It's not, Dan."

"Guys, look, your fluff is cute, but I don't think we have much time for that sort of thing."

If the situation was different, they both would have laughed, but Adrian's words rang true and hung in the air.

"What do we do?" Phil was completely out of his element. He looked from Adrian to Dan, his light colored eyes shining with uncertainty.

"We have to lay low for a while. There is a chance they didn't follow us, but that doesn't mean that they wouldn't, either." Dan said.

"You mean-, you mean, they might try to-." Phil had trouble speaking, and Dan interrupted, saving him from the trouble.

"Yes, they could very well be after us. "You're going to regret this, is what he said."" Dan explained. His jaw clenched, his hands fisted and his mind was racing because that stupid fucking douche bag was right.

Dan picked up the sound of Chris pulling into the driveway, the car doors opening and closing, and he said, "Chris and PJ are here," to Phil as they climbed the wooden steps.

There was a quick knocking, and PJ called in, "It's Chris and I."

Phil approached the door, and simply out of anxiety he looked through the peep hole and then quickly engaged the lock and opened the door.

Chris stepped inside, quickly followed by PJ and the door was shut and locked behind them.

The five of them looked each other over as they moved about the house restlessly.

Everyone's eyes were filled with uncertainty, and varying degrees of concern and readiness.

But they were okay.

Silently, and reasoning to himself that they should eat dinner because it was normal and things needed to still be normal somehow, Phil went into the kitchen. He had put steaks in the fridge to thaw out for dinner, before they had gone downtown. He crouched and pulled a cupboard open to collect a skillet to cook the steaks on.

Initially, he couldn't find the skillet and with a frustrated sigh, he pushed a large pot out of the way. He spotted the skillet, but because he was a dumbass and his kitchen needed reorganizing, the skillet had been previously slid into the cupboard at an angle and Phil couldn't wedge the stupid thing out of the cupboard.

Pots and pans clanged against each other as he struggled with the skillet, and with one last shove he gave up because he doubted that anyone would even feel hungry after the climactic afternoon they'd had. He was aware that he was making a racket and acting like a child, but all of a sudden he was frustrated and angry and upset and scared.

And he felt weak and unprepared and he found himself kneeling on the kitchen floor, his hands pressed into the grimy linoleum that was suddenly blurring but he was still wearing his glasses so it didn't make sense and he realized he was on the verge of crying.

And then Dan was beside him, saying quiet, soothing things that he couldn't really process as he pulled him into his arms.

"I need to cook dinner," he insisted through his tight throat.

"No, you don't." Dan said, and Phil was too tired to argue.

And Phil thought, ironically, that this was a lot like when Dan first showed him his abilities, but felt much, much different.

The situation was terrifyingly fragile.

Phil pulled himself closer to Dan, who tightened his hold as well and they were tangle of long limbs and bodies. Phil looked over Dan's shoulder at the others who had tactfully found various places to sit in the living room and were talking amongst themselves.

They spent a few minutes sitting there quietly and Phil eventually climbed off the floor and pulled Dan up with him.

He collected a glass of water and one for Dan as well. They should drink something at least, he reasoned.

Phil downed his glass of water and it sat stagnantly in his stomach at first. He left the cup in the sink, and then shuffled into the living room and leaned against the arm of his couch.

"We, erm," Chris began. "We're gonna go ahead and go back to my house," he said, referring to himself and PJ.

"I can be a sort of look out," Adrian said to Phil. "I can keep an eye on things."

"Keep the house dark," Dan said, as he crossed the small dining area and stood beside Phil. "Lock all the doors, the windows, everything."

"Call me in the morning or something, okay?" Phil said as the other three rose from the couch and recliner.

"Yeah," Chris promised.

"And be careful," Dan implored as the three of them headed towards the door.

Phil pulled the door open and shut it behind them, relocking it.

It was growing very dark, very quickly and with the blinds shut, the house would soon be completely dark. So Phil went into the kitchen to get the candles and lighter out of a drawer, and he recalled for a moment, the night he had put them into the drawer.

It was the night that all four of them, PJ, Chris, Phil, and Dan had played video games and had eaten pizza and he swore that everything was simple and perfect that night. He wanted to turn the earth back to that night.

He put the candles in various places of the house, using the wick of the first candle to light the rest and soon the house had a relaxing, ambient glow.

The light flickered occasionally as well, causing shadows to dance across the walls and Phil watched them curiously from he had settled, leaning back in his recliner.

For a while everything felt safe, and stable.

Dan stretched out across the couch, put a hand beneath his head and stared up at the ceiling. He knew Adrian was up there, outside somewhere, probably in the sky.

Phil's phone buzzed, and it reminded him that there was a world out there still.

When he brought it out from his jeans pocket the light burned his eyes and Chris' text read, PJ and I are fine how are you and Dan?

We're fine, was Phil's reply.

I'll check back with you in a bit then

"That was Chris," he said quietly to Dan, breaking their silence. "They're fine."

"That's good," Dan replied.

Phil looked over at Dan, who returned the glance, and stood from the recliner.

"Scoot," he said gently, and Dan turned just right so that Phil could lie down with his back pressed to Dan's chest.

Dan's arm settled at his waist, and he could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he listened to his breath.

They weren't sleepy, but they were so quiet and still, save for the small movements they made like Phil's arm shifting to lie over Dan's, that they might have been asleep.

"Let me know if you get hungry," Phil said eventually.

"Are you hungry?"

"Not really. But if you are I'll cook something," he said, and then added in a mumble, "The steaks in the fridge should be eaten."

"Steak actually does sound pretty good."

Phil could hear the smile in his voice, and he grinned as well, but then turned over to look at Dan. "You think we'll be okay? Tonight at least?"

Dan looked at Phil with a gentle gaze and said,

"I won't let anything happen to you."

"Right, Mr. Invincible."

Dan smiled widely. "Hardly." With the hand that was previously lying beneath Phil's he doodled swirls on Phil's clothed stomach, absentmindedly pressing into the flesh. "I'm just as fragile as you are," he said in a vaguely soft voice.

"I love you, Dan."

"I love you too, Phil."

It wasn't much later when Phil had cooked himself and Dan the steaks that had been in the fridge, as well as canned vegetables.

It was extremely dark in the house where the glow of the candles couldn't reach and Phil knew they'd burn down soon, if not later.

Phil had used a flashlight to watch and double check that the steaks were cooked well enough, leaving one of them a bit redder in the middle for Dan.

After they had eaten they had used the restroom and resolved to crawl into bed and under the covers as they weren't really motivated to do much else.

Phil searched for Dan between the blankets, lips seeking lips and hands finding barriers to each other's flesh.

And maybe it was the wrong night for them to do this, when they were anxious and worried, but they didn't want to fret over the next morning, and what they would do when Phil had to work, or what it meant for their relationship. All that mattered was that Phil needed Dan and Dan needed to be needed by Phil.

Their hands urgently slipped beneath their clothes, removing the barriers completely, and Phil thought of all the cringe-worthy phrases and words he could imagine as he made certain that Dan was ready, because it was cheesy and sappy when they were finally moving together and crying for each other wantonly.

But it was perfect, and magical, and god, it was so fucking cheesy, and Phil wouldn't be able to think of it any other way when he looked back on it. Especially, when he and Dan curled up together in a cocoon of light and warmth and blankets and bodies, and whispered to each other before finally falling asleep in the comfort of each other's love.

The next morning was very still and peaceful, but the evidence of last night's activities still remained, so they alternated in and out of the small shower and dressed for the day.

Dan peeked out one window, and across the road, sitting atop Phil's mailbox, was a dark brown, hawk. Just then its head turned to peer at Dan and he grinned. Adrian.

The hawk took flight, and Dan couldn't see where it went to, but he knew Adrian would soon be fully dressed on the porch.

He stepped back from the curtain and he turned to Phil.

"Adrian's just outside."

Feeling an odd, and simultaneously foreboding sense of optimism, Dan and Phil waited a few short minutes until there was a knocking at the door.

Phil approached the door, followed by Dan, and he peered three through the peephole to see that Adrian was standing there.

He engaged the lock and pulled the heavy door open to reveal a tired looking, windswept-haired Adrian.

Phil let him step through the door and then shut it behind him, relocking it.

"Everything was completely ordinary last night," He said, in a tone that implied he was suspicious of the fact.

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Maybe," Adrian said.

"But they'd expect that we were expecting them, probably," Dan thought.

"Exactly," his cousin agreed.

"So…," Phil wondered.

"We'll just have to keep this up for a while. They'd come when they think we'd least expect it."

"When do you think that might be?"

"When we least expect it."

"Dan, you know I have to go to work tomorrow."

Dan sighed. He would really have preferred for Phil to remain at home. The drive to the restaurant was short, and Phil, of course, would be safe, but Dan's nerves were relentless.

They were settling under the covers for bed.

"I know." He replied, and he brought the pillows and blankets closer around them. It was a cold night.

"I'll be safe."

"Yeah," Dan said in agreement.

Phil scooted forward and they enveloped each other in their arms before getting to sleep.

Adrian and Dan were restless while Phil was gone, but luckily the day went by quickly enough and Phil returned safe and sound. Adrian frequently took to the skies to observe that the neighborhood was safe and there was no suspicious activity.

Phil called to check on PJ and Chris continuously. He was always assured that they were fine and safe.

They didn't bother for much longer to leave the lights down. Partly because, they were sick and tired of the bad lighting, but also because Phil didn't have any more candles to burn.

Everything seemed to be okay, but they had this unspoken agreement to remain vigilant.

They kept the blinds shut, but the sky was so grey and dreary that it wouldn't have made much of a difference to have them open. But Phil appreciated the colors of the leaves changing, despite the dark, looming clouds.

There was a thunderstorm on that Sunday night.

The lightning was terrifying beautiful, and the following thunder was powerful.

It made matters worse when the electricity went out.

"Shit," Phil had muttered as the three of them glanced around in the darkness.

If the electricity didn't come back on all of the food in the fridge would spoil.

Phil called Chris, and he said that yes, his power went out as well.

"It'll come back on soon. Always does," Chris assured him.

Phil returned home on Monday afternoon and walked into the house.

"Do you know how to get a hold of PJ?" Dan asked him.

"Oh, er, no." Phil hadn't thought of that.

He knew Chris had work today, and that if he called him, he would most likely still be there and would not answer.

"I'll call Chris in a bit," Phil resolved.

Phil, Dan, and Adrian played a couple of video games, mostly for a distraction, but it still was not exciting when Adrian managed to destroy the other two in their first person shooter game.

Suddenly Phil's phone went off, while Dan made a comment about Adrian making cheap shots, and the default ringtone for whatever reason, sounded so urgent in the mostly quiet house.

He could see it was Chris.

"Hello?"

"Phil!" Chris' frantic voice filled Phil's ears and the sound caused stomach to drop, and his heart to race.

"Phil, I need help!"

"Chris? What's going on?"

"It's PJ. He's-, he's hurt!"