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A/N So I was just scrolling through my works to find that this had hit 1K just as I was updating!!! Thank you, everyone!!!!!!

Dan woke up to darkness. Immediately, he jolted. Something was wrong if he was waking up in the darkness. Every day he had been woken by the sun's harsh light and now, he felt nothing but the soft glow of the moon. It couldn't be later than the extremely early hours of the morning. Maybe one or two am? Dan then realised that not only was it dark but it was not his bed that he lay on.

His hands shot out, gently touching what was around him to have the familiar feel of the sofa greet him. I sigh of relief flooded out of him. The expected splinters of the wood were expected to poke into his hands. No, he had left that place long ago. He was safe now. Right?

Something still felt off. Something was out of place. Something far more serious than he could comprehend with his sleep-laden mind. 'Phil?' He called out quietly, his voice hoarse from sleep.

No answer.

'Phil?' He called again. Still nothing. Dan searched but found nothing. Phil wasn't in the house. Dan didn't let the worry set in, not yet. Phil liked to spend his time outside, despite the dirtiness of the city air. Dan couldn't worry, not unless Phil was not there either. Dan tried not to think of that as he fled down the stairs, a little too fast to be passed as not panicked. The smell was what first him, rust. A thick iron smell suffocated him. Then, he realised, that wasn't just the smell of iron. That was the smell of blood.

His legs brought him down the stairs faster than he thought possible. His breathing was frantic, panicked. He couldn't say he was far from a panic attack. That gut instinct had turned into a full blown acknowledgement of what was wrong. There was no way that what he was about to find was going to be anything but grim.

Dan paused when the sight appeared. His next reaction was to gag, puke even, but he swallowed and attempted to keep his legs moving without falling- he had to help. Memories flashed before him but he pushed them down, they were unimportant now. Trauma was something for another time. Not that that would work, trauma couldn't simply be pushed away. Still, Dan tried and focused on the sight at hand- shaking and overt black spots in his vision aside.

Phil's side was red with blood, the knife protruding out messily. Dan, once again, swallowed down the sick and reached out, his legs quickly failing meaning he ended up crouched rather than standing. Dan stared for what could have been hours, Phil still unaware of his presence in his state of unconsciousness.

His parents flashed before his eyes. Once again, they went ignored.

'Phil.' Dan's voice was strained, quiet enough that Dan himself almost didn't hear it. 'Phil.' He repeated, the words choking out in hopes to awaken the peaceful-looking man. The peaceful looking man with a knife in his side.

Phil didn't know what to do. What were you supposed to do in situations like this?

His parents appeared again, blood ridden and mauled. They went ignored.

'Phil!' Dan cried out, the desperate aura surrounding him like flames. 'Phil!' He tried again, grasping at the man's shoulders, shaking him violently.

A tired groan was what he heard first, followed by the obviously pained grown afterwards. 'Phil.' Dan breathed, the relief masked by the pain as he watched the blood seep from his side, gushing out faster and faster by the second. Dan had no idea what was happening. He wasn't stupid, not quite, his parents had taught him enough but without a real education or any first aid training, he was almost as useful as someone who didn't know what blood was.

A croaky word, something resembling Dan, was voiced fleetingly from Phil's mouth. He looked tired, drained and more importantly, dying. He wouldn't, Phil knew that although he sure as hell didn't feel that. Nothing major had been hit, Phil could tell by the amount of blood. Dan could not. To him, it looked like he should have already been drained of blood. How it was still flowing was unexplainable to him. He felt useless, he was useless.

There was only one thing Dan knew how to do. One thing that he been told never to do. Not even in emergencies but in that moment, he knew that Phil's life had to be put above his. He would have to call emergency services and get Phil to the hospital, even if he had to reveal himself in the process.

Dan didn't have a phone of his own so, with whatever energy he had left, he burrowed his hands into Phil's pockets and swiftly brought out Phil's phone. Phil, even in his state, could tell what was about to happen. His voice was lost, though, he couldn't do a thing to stop it. He couldn't lift an arm, he couldn't open his mouth, he could hardly blink.

Dan's fingers pressed the buttons all too quickly, the numbers 911 flashing on the screen all too brightly in the dimness of the hall. Phil continued to protest, his mind screaming, his lips unmoving. Dan lifted the phone to his ear with shaking hands and listened as a shrill noise screamed from the phone- another warning call. Another one he did not listen to. 'This is 911. How may I help you?' The voice was kind, if not a little patronising. Dan felt like a child but like children do, he began to talk- a little too hurriedly to be heard.

'My friend...my friend he's been stabbed!' Dan repeated after the woman asked for him to repeat himself. Dan still found that his words were rushed but at least comprehensible.

'And what's your address, sir?' The lady asked, her voice almost bored. No doubt she had been doing this all day, she had the right to. That didn't make Dan feel any better. Dan felt like he was being talked down to by a stroppy teenager more than he was gaining help. In that moment, though, it didn't matter. Dan had to help Phil and this was the only way.

'Um...it's...' Dan's voice trailed off as he tried to recall the address and after a minute of thinking, he almost screamed it down the receiver. Phil was fading, this had to be faster.

'An ambulance is on their way, sir. Can you please stay on the line.' Dan nodded, without the knowledge the woman wouldn't see it. He was too drawn to the blood pooling on the floor, the feeling of sickness rising in his throat.

This is what happened to your parents.

He had had enough. 'I know!' He shouted, earning a worried reply from the woman, whose question had only seemed to be answered with that and a flinch from Phil whose fear was now solely on the shaking boy in front of him. Dan tangled his fingers in his hair, threading it through like a brush, the pain welcoming. He wanted it to go away. This, he knew, was the last thing he was supposed to do.

He wasn't supposed to panic himself.

'Are you alright, sir?' That voice came again. Dan hummed, his panic choking his words down. A sob quickly rose in his throat. He hiccupped, swallowing it down but nothing worked. The tears were stronger, just like the blood flow on the floor. The tears spilt onto the ground as Dan leant over to examine the wound, the knowledge that if he were going to, he would have already thrown up his guts by now. The tears fell into the water, creating a pastel red- a paint of sorts. The paint of death.

'Please be okay.' He whispered. This time, the woman said nothing and neither did Phil. It seemed that neither of them had the strength to say any words. Minutes passed before anything happened. Dan wasn't sure just how far away the nearest hospital was but with the time he had been waiting, he would have guessed far. Very far. Why? He asked himself. Phil couldn't die but maybe, with time ticking down, he would- in Dan's arms without the strength for his last words.

Dan threw away the thought. Phil would survive, he knew he would.

'Sir, the ambulance is nearly at your home.' Dan nodded again, still oblivious to the lack of vision the woman had on him. His unconscious must have been aware of it, though, he would be afraid for himself if she had the ability to do so. Or maybe he wouldn't. Phil was far more important than he ever would be. Somehow, he believed that even in his own selfishness, he would not let go of Phil just to hide himself. He didn't think he had the strength for that.

Phil had become his only friend. His best friend. You weren't supposed to lose best friends. Or were you. Dan didn't know. Dan didn't know anything. Dan was naive. Dan was young. More importantly, Dan was a Neko. Neko's just weren't made for knowledge. No, they were.

Neko's weren't allowed knowledge.

word count: 1536

published: 07.06.17 (Dan's birthday is closing in)

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