Quarantine (Phan)

One - The Beginning

(A/N: Heyyy guysss! So, there's really nothing much to say here other than we hope you enjoy this story! We're extremely excited to see the feedback we receive on it. And just to be clear, this story is slightly AU, where Dan is 20 and Phil is 22.)

5/20/2008

"Philip Michael Lester, I am not a meme." Dan Howell whined.

The comforting sound of Phil's laughter blares from the speakers of Dan's laptop, his tongue slightly poking out at the corner of his lips.

"Please, Daniel, you are literally the meme king," Phil says behind his laughter, his eyes watering.

"Ahem, that's Sir Daniel, to you." Dan giggles.

See, Dan and Phil met three years ago through Twitter, having spoken a couple times through DMs discussing anime, and have been best friends ever since. Skyping every chance they get, bonding over similar hobbies and interests, though, they have never met in person.

They share a bond that simply cannot be explained thoroughly enough to be understood.

"It's almost 1 in the mor-," Phil pauses to let out a yawn, his eyes closing slightly. Dan can't help but notice he resembles a little lion cub. He smiles to himself at the thought.

"Mayb- sh- g-"

Dan tilts his head slightly in confusion as the black haired boys video starts to alter and freeze up a bit, the sound cutting off after every couple words.

"Sorry, what was that? The call is lagging a bit." Dan states, a hint of confusion evident in his voice.

"It- I-" The sound continues to lag and Dan begins to worry that they're losing connection.

Just then, loud sirens begin to blare loudly through Dan's laptop, Phil jumping slightly at the sound coming from outside his house. He leaps from his chair to check out the window.

"What the..." Dan hears Phil whisper, a wave of worry washing over him.

"Phil? Phil, what is it? What's going on?"

Phil rushes back over to the laptop in a clear state of panic.

"Dan, I don't know wha- but it's- there's- insane."

Though what Phil has said could not be heard completely, Dan can sense the clear panic and anxiousness dripping off every word.

"Phil, I can't hear you. What's going on? Phil?" Dan rambles on in panic, pressing buttons rapidly on his keyboard, attempting to fix the connection.

Phil begins to speak again, but all that could be heard by the brown eyed boy is static, before the call disconnects.

"Fuck, Phil." Dan mutters, attempting to call him back.

The call disconnects immediately after Dan presses the call button.

He tries again a few more times, to no avail, before slamming his fist on the desk.

The sirens he heard from Phil's end of the call begin to blear from outside his house as well. Dan scurries away from the window, his eyes wide in fear. He works up enough courage to step closer to the window again. Slowly, he places his fingertips gently on the window sill, glancing down the street of his neighborhood.

The view is definitely not a beautiful sight.

His usual calming neighborhood, so bright and comforting, is now littered with blood splatters on the sidewalks and bodies laying limp all across the road and lawns. He sees people walking around, moving at an oddly slow pace. He squints his eyes, and notices something a bit off about these people. Their skin, an unhealthy pale color with a greyish undertone, a limp in their step.