I'm in love with a criminal (REWRITTEN)

Please don't cry, I will be alright (Will I?)

hello and welcome to another part. actually didn't believe i would write another one. i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it. comment as much as you can, please.

disclaimer: if you read all of this, you belong to horny jail *BONG*

WARNINGS: BLOOD, ANGST, MURDER, (LIGHT) DISCRIPTION OF MURDER, SMUT, MORE BLOOD,  THEY STILL DON'T HAVE A SAFE WORD (BUT THERE ALSO ISN'T A SITUATION WHERE THEY WOULD NEED ONE; EVERYTHING IS CONSENSUAL), SOME PSYCHO SHIT I WOULD SAY

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Cold, trembling fingers on old buttons. It was a cold, rainy autumn day in Copenhagen. They had spent just three weeks here and now decided to travel further, before anyone could hold Phil responsible for what he has done in this country.

Dan was in a phone booth outside the airport. He was afraid, as usual, that they would be recognized. That Phil would be recognized. Phil had let his hair grow a little, now often wore glasses. Now and then he also wore a beard, like now, shortly before the departure.

It wasn't clear where the journey would go. Phil was currently in the airport looking where the next plane overseas would go. No matter what country it was, it would be their next destination.

Phil had already shown Dan Rome, they were briefly in Venice, Florence. They were in Oslo, Reykjavík, had looked at the northern lights together. They had enjoyed the warmth in Spain.

They spent a few days on an island called Tenerife and it almost felt like a vacation. It was an island that was spared from Phil's actions. They were together all the time and had enjoyed the warmth, the beach and the view from their hotel room.

They constantly had new IDs. Dan didn't know where Phil got them and every time he asked, Phil blocked, telling him the less he knew, the better. They never talked about it, but Dan was absolutely terrefied.

They had left England eight months ago. Dan hadn't spoken a word to his father in eight months. He had been so sure he wouldn't care, but with each week, each new month, he felt worse. He had just left, without a goodbye.

He dialed a number, looked around while taking the receiver to his ear and perceived the shrill toot. At least the number still worked.

"Hello?" Dan heard his father's voice and his heart almost stopped. He was so close to just hanging up again, but something stopped him.

"Hello." he said in a dejected voice.

"Who is this?" Pause. "Dan?"

Dan swallowed hard and pressed the phone even harder to his ear with his free hand. As if someone were eavesdropping on them. Maybe that was the case?

"Oh god, Dan! You don't know how happy I am to hear your voice! Where are you? I started to think you were dead!"

"Are they listening to your phone?" Dan asked, ignoring what his dad just said. Phil had told him that this could be the case and that he should therefore keep it as short as possible. That he should be careful what he says.

"I don't know." Dan's father said and Dan closed his eyes. "Jesus, Dan. Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I can't talk to you for long."

"Are you with him?" his father asked and Dan swallowed hard. His father knew, but that he asked was proof that his phone was being tapped. It scared the shit out of Dan. "Did he kidnap you or are you with him voluntarily?"

Dan closed his eyes. How could his dad do this to him? Did they tell him what to ask or did someone sit with him?

Phil told him to lie before he made this call. Especially to this question. Dan decided to say nothing at all, but: "I'm fine, dad."