Till The End [Phan]

Not All Heroes Wear Capes Mine Wore Whiskers on His Face

Phil looked up at me with sad eyes, his face was red with tears and I could see how much pain he was in,
"Phil, it's going to be alright," I said, "I don't know when, but I know that it will be." Phil just sniffed at me,
"I don't, I can't, I-I need him... but h-he's gone," Phil choked back tears, "I need him- he's my wh-whole life." Seeing Phil like this hurt, it hurt as much as loosing Dan did. I didn't know what to do. The flat had this whole change of feeling to it... it was like something was missing.

I sat next to Phil on the bed. He'd pulled his legs up to his chest and was resting his head on his knees,
"Phil," I whispered, "can you look at me for a second? I know this is my fault, but I need you, and I'm sorry. I wish I could've saved him, but I tried, I tried so hard to save you both. I love you, and I need you too. Please don't hate me now..." Phil looked up at me all of a sudden, eyes filled with regret,
"Jay, it's not your fault," he sniffed, "I love you, Dan loved you, too. I just can't do anything right now. I don't know how to function without him... he was my everything." He sniffed and tried to wipe his eyes, and although he wasn't whimpering and sobbing anymore, the tears just kept falling. It was reassuring to hear Phil say that. I was worried that he wouldn't talk to me, or that he'd blame me. I knew that it was unlikely, but I really did worry. I moved his fringe from his face and looked at him,
"It's going to be alright one day, Phil." Phil wrapped his arms around me,
"I know," he said, "I know. It's not your fault though, don't ever believe that it is. Dan didn't blame you, and I don't either, there's no need to feel guilty. There was nothing you could've done to stop it. Okay?" It seemed like Phil was trying to hold it together for me. He didn't have to, and I think he knew this, but he did it because it's what Dan would have done.

I don't think Dan realised it, but he had always been the strong one. When I got upset about anything, or if I was too tired to function, he was there. He was there with comforting words and warm hugs. He was there with hot chocolates and blankets, or a new TV show to waste time with. Even on the second night that they'd fostered me, Dan had heard me crying, and he made it better. He held on even when he didn't want to anymore, he didn't give up when he was lonely. He kept going, even though he still had an existential crisis every now and then, he tried to pull through it and swim with the current, instead of against it. I suppose he just kept swimming until he ran out of breath and let go. But I'll credit him for holding on so long. He fought right till the end, and he didn't panic much either. I was proud of my dad, for everything he'd done.

Nobody can tell you what happens after death, and I think that's what scares us all- not knowing. I wanted to believe in Heaven or reincarnations for a while, I liked the idea of still existing on the Earth. But after Dan died, I didn't know what I wanted after death- I barely knew what I wanted in life. There were a few days where I would wake up and look for signs that Dan was still with us, I thought maybe he'd been reincarnated as a llama- and since we didn't have a llama I used to keep his hat with me a lot. I don't know what I was expecting, I just hoped something might happen. Phil started noticing things like that, and although he never said anything, I could feel him looking at me with sympathy.

Phil put on this whole personality- it wasn't him. He got a haircut and bought new clothes for himself. They weren't bright or unusual, they didn't have pizza patterns or bats on them. They weren't plaid button downs or confusing pyjama bottoms. They were just clothes. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that screamed "Philip Lester" from six miles away. At first I thought it was good for him to spoil himself a little, to maybe take his mind off Dan for a bit. But by the time he came home from the second shopping trip in two days with a biker jacket, I knew something was up. He was becoming someone else, he wasn't being my dad anymore, we were like flat mates. During the day he was all weird, but at night he was just Phil; I could hear him crying every night when I wasn't sleeping at all. I used to want to talk to him about it but I thought he didn't want me to know, so I never said anything. He slept on the sofa for the first few nights, he said he wanted the bed to smell like Dan for as long as possible. I knew it would only last a few more days, three at most, considering they'd been away for the last ten anyway.