Give Me Some Of That Bass // phan

What You Need

"Don't come crawling back to me when you break down
Cause you dug yourself into this hole all by yourself"

***

The ceiling of his room was painted in dull grays and muted whites, the rain clouds outside filtering through his window and diminishing whatever good mood could possibly have existed there in the first place.

He didn't know how long he'd been staring up at it, maybe an hour or two, but he barely noticed the time passing. He was distraught, a giant mess of guilt and self-hatred, and he was no closer to figuring out how to deal with it than he'd been before.

Laying in his bed and moping all day was the better solution. It wouldn't solve anything, but at least he couldn't fuck things up anymore.

"Hey."

He looked over, and Elliot was standing in his doorway, hands shoved in his pockets and looking as if he'd much rather not be here. Phil sat up slowly.

"Hi," he said, very aware of the awkward air that was surrounding them. "What are you doing here?" He was under the impression that, as of right now, he was nobody's favorite person, and this unprompted visit was more than a surprise.

Elliot didn't respond for a second, still hovering by the door, but after another few seconds, he moved closer and sat cautiously on the edge of Phil's bed, staring at his knees. "You seemed pretty messed up this past...well, the last couple of weeks. Thought I'd come and check on you, see if you want to talk about it." He paused. "Your front door was unlocked."

"I don't--" Phil started to deny him, but Grayson's words from yesterday resonate through him, about refusing people's help. And where that's gotten him so far. "Why? After all that shit I did..."

He could see the dark roots of Ellie's otherwise light blue hair, standing out sharply in contrast; he doesn't usually let them show, dying over it again or changing the color, but it seems he hasn't had the time lately.

"That was pretty shitty of you," Elliot agreed, and yeah, that doesn't make him feel any better. But that's the truth, he supposes; it's not supposed to make you feel better. "But..I figured everyone else was probably blacklisting you at the moment, so you'd need someone to talk to."

It's never fucking occurred to him just how good of a friend Elliot is, to all of them. He doesn't care about what they've done, or how badly they've fucked up, and he's always on their side.

Phil nodded, and bit his lip, and all of a sudden, he's crying and leaning over to wrap his arms around Elliot's neck, hugging him and trying not to get snot all over his shirt. This has got to be the most emotionally unstable he's ever been.

But Elliot hugged him back, and they don't say anything for a while; Phil realized if they're gonna talk, he has to be the one to start it.

"I just.." He started slowly, the words thick and uneven on his tongue. He's so not used to this. "I have been messed up, and I shouldn't be, it's not that big a deal. And it doesn't justify what I did, I was a total dick, and no one deserved that, I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Elliot reassured him, pushing him back to look at him. "What happened?"

Phil swiped a hand across his face. It's getting easier, he finds, telling people about Dan, and he wonders why the hell it took him so long in the first place. He tells Elliot everything, the year long relationship and how stupid he was, and how Grayson found out, and breaking up with him.

"And now," he ran his fingers through his hair. "Jeez, now I'm just a fucking wreck and I don't know how to handle it except lashing out at anyone who tries to ask about it."