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Dan began to dream. He hadn't in a long time- it had been nearly a year- but the second his head hit the pillow, his duvet drawn all the way up to his chin, his eyelids dropped closed, and vivid images began to flash before his eyes.

Of course, PJ was there. Dan couldn't remember a time when his dreams weren't about PJ; even before he met him. He was the boy of Dan's dreams- literally.

Dream PJ took a few wavering steps toward Dream Dan, and put his hand gently on Dan's face. Dan pushed into it for a second, allowing his eyes to gently close. PJ said something, but Dan couldn't har it, but then PJ kissed him, and it all went away.

But, as Dan kissed back, he realised it wasn't PJ at all, but a soulless automaton who looked like him, who eventually pushed away and began to hit Dan, over and over again, until bruises bloomed along his delicate skin, until cuts split open and began to bleed deep crimson, until Dan fell to the ground, weeping, but the bot only continuously beat him until Dan opened his eyes to stare at the dark ceiling above. He couldn't see it, but he knew it was there. His breath was coming ragged and quickly, and his entire body seemed to ache from the dream-bruises. He took a breath in, and let it out slowly, trying to get the better of the tears that threatened to spill. He tried to wonder what had caused the dream, but he only had to think for a second.

Phil.

He had bought Phil to keep him happy. To keep him company. To love him the way PJ never did. To promise to never hurt him. He had spent good money on him. And what did it do?

It hurt him.

Well, to be fair, it didn't hurt when it pushed Dan. But Dan was so taken aback that Phil had pushed him that it seemed to feel like it had stabbed him, over and over, right in the heart. For a second, he just looked at Phil, unsure of what to do. He knew that Phil was programed to help him up when he fell, but it just looked at him. And Dan had sudden flashbacks the the first time PJ had pushed him.

It was a harmless argument. Dan couldn't even remember what it was about. But, at some point, PJ became angry, and took Dan by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall, a picture frame that hung there shattering behind his head, opening wounds on his scalp that bled quickly. PJ's face softened, and he took Dan in his arms, apologising over and over again, dabbing a wet cloth to the back of his head. He said he would never, ever do it again, and Dan stupidly, wishfully believed him.

But it happened again. Too many times to count unless you took the time to count the scars he left.

A quiet ding sounded from the kitchen, where the bot was charging. Dan checked the clock next to his bed. The bright display read 06:30. He'd have to get up soon, anyway, so he figured he would just do it then. He tried to tell himself to get up over and over again, but his body just wouldn't comply. So, instead, he just closed his eyes, and tried to get in as much sleep he could in half an hour. "Come on dreams." he mumbled. "Something good..." He began to drift out of consciousness.

sentient // phanWhere stories live. Discover now