By the end of the week, Dan got a call saying there were no hits for the DNA collected at the hospital. He swallowed hard, thanked them, and hung up.
He made himself a sandwich, grabbed a soda and headed out into the lounge. It was a little early for lunch at 9:32 in the morning, but Dan Howell had no real sense of meal times. He turned on some random program that wouldn't be too obnoxious while he ate and browsed Tumblr. The last time he'd checked on him, Phil was asleep, and would probably continue to sleep for the next hour or so.
Last night Dan had been scrolling through his dashboard when he'd heard screaming coming from their bedroom. He nearly dropped his laptop to the floor as he ran over and rushed in. He found Phil still asleep, wrapped in some horrible nightmare. It had been a painful ten minutes of Phil screaming and thrashing stiffly on the bed before Dan could wake him up. He felt grateful for the darkness of the room –Phil didn't need to see him crying like that.
Dan had gone out to the kitchen to get him a glass of water, and in a split second decision, he grabbed the bottle of sedatives and dropped two tablets into the glass, stirring them until they dissolved completely. When he got it back to their room, he had Phil drink it –"all of it; you'll feel better"- and laid down beside him. Phil initiated contact, turning his tear-stained face away and pressing his back against Dan. Dan had obliged, spooning him and trying to fall asleep, but sleep never came.
Dan absently watched TV for a little while, trying to distract himself. He learned nothing more of what had happened to his boyfriend than what the physical evidence blatantly told him, nor was he going to push for answers, but he was growing more and more anxious every day he still didn't know. Dan knew well that the charming saying of "you'll feel better if you talk about it" was bullshit half the time, but after Phil's sudden strike of terror last night, Dan would do anything that may possibly help.
Things had been so different since Phil had come home. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable –Phil didn't seem stricken by Dan like he had at the hospital- but the flat was often in a state of uneasy silence. Once or twice a day, Phil would quietly request some time to be left alone, and disappear to the bedroom. Dan would just wait –nothing could keep him occupied- and Phil would emerge two or three hours later like nothing had happened. Sometimes he'd even spare Dana small smile, and Dan was grateful for that, at least.
A few hours went by. Dan figured Phil probably needed his space just after waking up, which he didn't dare disturb. But even knowing where he was and what he was probably doing, Dan still worried for his boyfriend. He had to hope this would either end soon, or become so routine that he hardly noticed anymore –and he prayed it wouldn't be the latter.
He heard a door creaking over the low volume of the television, and he turned it off to hear soft padding on the floor, coming closer. He craned his neck for a moment, but when he saw Phil approaching, he pretended to be reading something on his computer. He knew Phil wouldn't want to find him staring, watching him.
Dan suppressed a smile when Phil kissed the top of his head. "You sleep well after last night, baby?" he asked, not looking up at him. Dan was pretty sure he'd never called Phil 'babe' or 'baby' so much before he'd come back, but it felt nice, and he knew Phil needed extra comfort. He hoped he was doing well with it.
"Better," Phil nodded, moving to sit down next to Dan, fixing his hair. Dan smiled fondly; he needed it cut badly, but it almost reminded Dan of their early days, when their hair was longer and choppy and got in their eyes when they kissed and fell limp with sweat when they had sex.
"Good," he replied. Phil pushed at his Macbook and Dan closed it and put it aside. Phil turned and laid down across his lap, heading on the arm of the sofa, knees up and feet flat on the empty cushion. Dan pet his hair, pushing at his uneven fringe.
"I think I can talk about it now." Phil stared up at Dan with wide eyes, nervous but silently pleading to let him. Dan worried for a moment about how out of the blue this was, and that maybe he wasn't really ready, but he wasn't going to stop him. He nodded, stroking his hair, letting him go on.
"I guess I'll start from the beginning." Phil pressed himself closer to Dan, breaking eye contact as he started. "I did get on that train, the right one. I got all the way to London, and then-… And then someone up against me and he had a gun pressed to my back. 'D-Don't make a sound or I'll blow out your lung so you can't.'" He seemed to be in pain quoting his abductor, and it broke Dan's heart. He ran his thumb over his cheek, urging him to continue.
"He led me off the train and the platform. We- We started walking in the opposite direction of home. I-I… I just wanted to go home." He swallowed a sob and willed himself to stay calm. Dan needed to know. "Nobody noticed. I-I didn't think at the time about how I was effectively being kidnapped. We got to a van and he threw me into the back. The door was cracked open and when we started moving I started throwing myself against it, trying to escape. And… And when I c-couldn't, I just watched through it, until… we passed our building. I started c-crying, for the first time then. And I just… waited. They turned a corner and I fell over… hitting my head… When… When I woke up we were there…"
Dan watched as his boyfriend started to fall apart. He didn't seem like he could last much longer talking about it right now, and Dan had heard enough to shatter his heart. "Okay, baby, take a break, alright? Take a break for now. I'll make some coffee and we can continue this later, yeah?"
Phil nodded, and Dan carefully removed himself from under Phil's weight and got up to go get coffee started. When he returned with two mugs, Phil was gone, retreated into more quiet time. He set the second mug down on the table, in case he came back out before it got cold, but he wouldn't.
A/N: Reviews = quicker updates!