Chapter 5: Without Knowing Anything At All

It's some time after 1am but no one has checked the clock for a while now. They are sitting around the dining table- Phil, PJ, Chris, Carrie, Alex and Charlie (it is their house after all), the contents of the black box spread between them. Every now and then one of them speaks, prompting mild responses from the others, but over the long evening, the novelty of the strange documents has turned to wary discomfort.

"Listen to this- Daniel's grandmother was the third of three sisters, whose parents ancestors sailed over from France prior to the second uprising in 1830. She worked as a secretary in a bank until she met her father's tailor and her future husband. The thing is, I remember Dan saying he had French family, said it's why he was so good at it in school… but look it says here, despite this Daniel's French language skills are limited as his grandmother insisted her children spoke only English, so that doesn't make sense!" Alex tosses the file into the centre with the other read and discarded items.

Charlie, returning from the kitchen with a tray of precariously balanced, steaming mugs, catches the end of his sentence.

"None of it makes sense, why does he need all of this? It's not like it's a family project or something, there are hundreds of pages!"

"Hardly a family project-" Chris grabs a mug in one hand, a paper in the other, "Daniel is reluctant to mention his primary school years, a quiet disposition may suggest bullying in primary school, although he will never fully admit to ever being bullied prior to whatever occurs in secondary years- there is no way Dan wrote this himself. What even is this?"

He takes a sip and spits the near-boiling liquid out onto the nearest sheets. Seizing the chance for distraction, everyone in the room rushes over and reaches for the pages, sponging off the brown tea marks with tissues, remarking on Chris' clumsy nature, as PJ collects some cool water from the kitchen to sooth the burnt tongue.

"It's his life," he says calmly, passing the glass to a mournful, grateful Chris, "It's everything that is Dan, all written down in funny little folders, it's like-"

Phil cuts across him, his voice uncharacteristically deep.

"It's like a reference. In case he ever forgot anything." He slumps forwards onto the table, fingers tangled in black hair and eyes wearily re-reading the words in front of them.

-TO BE VIEWED BY ARTEMIS AND SUBSEQUENTLY DESTROYED-

After a moment he passes it around, ignoring their exclamations and quizzical expressions. PJ suggests trying to track down Artemis, perhaps he would know where Dan had disappeared to, Alex disagrees, suggests that Artemis is gathering data on Dan against his will, but Phil ignores them all, trying to focus on the facts and failing to forget that this was Dan, this was his Dan. His Dan, who had a box that contained his life, under the bed they'd once shared. His life in a box, for handy reference, almost as if…

"It's him. It's Dan."

Charlie looks up, his voice the painful tone of helpfulness that the others had managed to shake off but ever-sympathetic Charlie couldn't quite manage.

"Who's Dan?"

Phil stands up, walks over to the counter and pulls on his coat and gloves. The others also stand, startled by his sudden movement. As he makes his way to the door, Carrie finds the sense to dart over and stand in front of him.

"Phil. Where are you going? It's," she glances over to check the clock, "It's 2:30 in the morning!"

Phil's eyes are wild and bright and he is more alive than he's been in weeks.

"It's Dan." He repeats and then steps around Carrie and out the door, disappearing into the streets.

Carrie stands at the door, watching Phil's figure walk furiously down the front path and onto the street. She hesitates for only a moment, before pulling her coat off the rack and tossing her bag over her shoulder.

"Wait!" Alex moves behind her, Chris following suit, "I'm coming too." The rest all indicate their agreement, collecting warmer clothes and phones.

"NO!" She doesn't mean to yell so loud and seeing their startled faces, Carries lowers her voice, reaching out with her hand. "I mean, let's not all rush him. I'll go and I'll text to let you know if you should follow." She starts opening the door when Alex steps forward to put his hand on her shoulder.

"It's not safe at this time to be on the streets alone, let me come, please." His smile is so kind and his eyes so caring that she can't help but smile back herself. But she shakes her head, blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders.

"Don't worry, I won't be alone."

The park is only ten minutes walk from the Cherimon house and she's walking swiftly against the icy night's breeze so arrives there in even less time. Phil is just where she expects to find him, sitting on the swing (the left one, the right one was always a little closer to the gate and Dan would run there first, jumping on with joyful screeches at his victory), swinging back and forth, only slightly, legs hanging limp from the rubber seat and his arms twisted around the chains.

His eyes remain downcast, even as Carrie approaches and sits herself down in front of him. Her eyes flicker to the empty swing next to him, then back to Phil, and they remain there, Carrie's patience silently digging into Phil's shell, coaxing him back to her.

Finally he looks up and it's all she can do not to breath and audible sigh of relief. She allows herself a moment to notice the tears, still shining on his cheeks, his red nose, the way his hands are almost white from clenching too tightly to the metal.

"It's okay to be sad Phil, you don't have to hide from us." She pauses, her words hanging awkwardly between them.

She'd aimed for comforting, but watching his lower lip disappear beneath his gnawing teeth, she feels hugely unsuccessful. Suddenly he laughs, a raw rasp, and wipes the eyes with the back of his hand.

"You don't think I know that? What do you think I've been doing for the past three months Carrie? I don't know if there's any sad left in me." His hand clenches the chain once more, his voice rising with each phrase.

"I was so sad, I am- I'm broken, didn't you notice? Nothing's putting it all back together, no magical switch… but you know, I thought he might just be able to do it? I thought-"

He jumps forward off the swing, striding past Carrie, who silently turns, following him, as he starts to pace before her. She can almost see his brain churning as his jaw tightens and his steps hasten.

"I can be sad. I can do that," He laughs bitterly, "It feels like I've been sad forever, but you know what, Carrie? I've never been mad at him; I've never felt mad or angry at Dan, not once." A harsh sob slips past his lips as he pivots, continuing his march back and forth on the tanbark.

"I've hated the fact that we were apart, I've wished with all my strength that I knew where he was, why he left, how to make it all better again," He exhales heavily, flinging his arms upwards and twisting his fingers through his hair. "But until today I couldn't feel angry, I could only hope that he was coming back." He pauses, face turned, his words dissolving into shaking sobs. Carrie can hear him sniffling, dabbing his nose with his sleeve. She decides to try again.

She stands, slowly, noticing his shoulders tense when she takes a step his way. Stopping, she coughs slightly. "It's okay to be angry Phil, you have every right to be! I may be the newest around here but Dan-"

"DON'T tell me what's okay." He turns around, eyes red and brimming with tears. Carrie trembles but holds her ground as he marches forward, words spitting violently from his usually gentle lips. "Don't do that, don't you dare. It's like you're all blind or something! Don't you see? Don't you think?"

He's standing right in front of her, she can almost see her own reflection in his wide blue eyes, but she's completely at a loss.

"Please, Phil..." She starts, but her hesitation rings clear in her unsteady voice.

"Don't. Don't tell me it's okay, it's not." Phil's eyes fall to the ground and his voice drops so low she can barely hear his next words. "It's all a lie Carrie, everything. That's me, that's everything I am, I was-" He looks up again, nearly hitting her face with the sudden movement. "He was everything, and he- Dan, it's all a lie." Phil grabs her hand and Carrie twitches at the contact but her gaze remains steady.

"He's a lie, our life is all built on a lie, stored neatly in a cardboard box. So yes, It's okay to be angry, and I'm so fucking angry, believe me I am. But it's not okay, I can't do this-"

His sentence is choked out by the hiccups of his weeping and it's then that Carrie reaches out, circling his waist with strong, warm arms. Phil falls onto her, burying his head into her shoulder. Her shoulder is soon soaked with his tears and her back aches under the weight of his body resting on her but she doesn't move, just strokes his back in soothing circles and holds him close while he rests his broken heart for a moment.

Poor Phil.. What is Dan up to! All my love and raspberry jam donuts to RocketshipRaven, NeverlandNat, illputyourmuminabox and NicholeLovesPhan for your reviews :D LOOK IT ONLY TOOK ME A WEEK TO UPDATE! More soon I promise! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, what you think is going on! A prize for the person who guesses right? Yes indeed! See you soon my lovelies xx