The Hero Trilogy Imagines

Hide and Seek

[This is basically if Dan came back as a ghost]

Phil sighed, opening the door to his apartment and collapsing on the sofa. His foot hit a bit of cloth and he frowned, raising his head and grabbing it. He gasped softly. It was one of Dan's shirts. He clutched it to his chest, breathing in the scent of the fabric and trying not to cry. "Dan... oh God Dan..." he whispered. If only he had reached him in time. If he had been standing with him, he could have saved him, maybe even jumped in front of the bullet that took his life.

A clanging noise from the kitchen yanked him out of his thoughts and he wiped his eyes as he walked towards the sound, pulling Dan's shirt over his head. A mug was laying broken on the ground, coffee staining the floor. Phil sighed, bending down to clear it up. His finger slipped on a shard of the mug and started bleeding. He hardly noticed, cleaning up the mess without much trouble.

He returned into the living room and froze, seeing an open med-kit sitting on the coffee table. A roll of bandages was placed next to a note. Sorry about the mug, it read. Phil stared. "Am I going crazy?" he murmured. "Or is my apartment haunted?" He yelled in shock as a marker picked itself up and wrote beside the message; yes, I am here to devour your soul. Phil squealed, then ran to his bedroom and hid under the covers.

He heard muted footsteps approaching and grinned. He counted to three in his head then leaped out and screamed. A voice screeched and the image of a brown-haired British man rippled into view. Dan stared up at Phil for a moment before getting to his feet and pulling him into a kiss. He was cold, having none of the heat that had practically radiated off of him when he was still alive. He still felt solid though, which was a relief.

"How are you back?" Phil asked when he pulled away. Dan shrugged. "I don't know and I don't care. All I know is that I'm here with you, and I am now the master of hide and seek." He turned invisible and Phil sighed but grinned as he tracked the sounds of soft footsteps out of the room. The footsteps stopped and Phil lunged, his hand brushing against an ankle. There was a soft squeal from Dan as the ghost revealed himself once more, sulking.

Dan opened his mouth to say something but instead frowned and grabbed Phil's hand. "You're still bleeding", he said, practically dragging him out of the room. "I'm fine", Phil insisted, trying to pull away. Dan stubbornly got him to bandage his finger and clapped like the man-baby he was when Phil threw the med-kit at him.

"Do you want me to kiss it better?" Dan asked, smirking. Phil nodded and Dan gently brushed his lips over the bandage on Phil's finger. "My mouth hurts too", Phil smiled cheekily. Dan pressed a quick kiss to his lips before turning invisible. "You tease!" Phil yelled.

—

Phil limped out of bed next morning, wincing in pain. Dan was waiting for him in the kitchen, impatiently juggling some forks. "Did you have fun last night?" he asked. "Because I sure did." "I think you went a bit too hard on me. I can't walk properly", Phil groaned. Dan laughed.

"Who knew Wii sports was such a competitive game? I've never pulled a hamstring this badly before", Phil said, grabbing some cereal.

A/N: How many people thought they got it on? Raise your hand, come on, no need to be ashamed.

He stood on a stool to reach the ridiculously high shelf as Dan started juggling even more forks. Suddenly, the stool slipped out from under him and Phil fell, hitting his head off the tiled floor. A border of darkness grew around his vision, and he passed out hearing Dan's quickly fading voice calling his name.

—

Phil opened his eyes with a gasp and glanced around at his surroundings. He seemed to be in a hospital of sorts. Mark was sitting next to his bed, a resigned expression on his face. "'Mark", Phil croaked. "Hey Phil", Mark said solemnly. "What's the last thing you remember?" Phil frowned. "Falling... off a stool... Dan! Where's Dan? He was there!" "Phil, Dan's long dead, you know this." "I know he's dead, he was a ghost, he was there, please Mark!" Phil cried.

"Your neighbors heard loud crashing noises, as well as your voice yelling at 'this Dan person'. They were worried, and called us. We found you unconscious on the floor after falling off a stool." Phil stared at him, disbelieving. "But Dan... he was so real. I was speaking to him. He's right there look!" He pointed to the door as Dan walked in, looking concerned.

Mark glanced behind him, seeing nothing. "Phil", he said gently. "There's no-one there." "Dan", Phil said urgently, ignoring Mark. "They think I'm crazy. I'm not, you're standing in front of me!" Dan sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're in an asylum Phil", he said softly. "I'm what?" "Am asylum. They think you're talking to the walls."

Mark shook his head sadly and called for a nurse. A woman entered, grabbing Phil by the arm and hauling him up, gently but forcefully. She shackled his hands and brought him to a padded room. "Mark please!" Phil cried. "Tell them to stop! Let me go!" The woman took off the shackles and secured a straight jacket onto him. "Dan! Help!" Phil called desperately.

Dan tried to push the woman away but his hands went straight through her. Frowning, he tried to take the straight jacket off of Phil, but again, his hands phased through. "Phil I'm so sorry", Mark said through the slot in the door. "It's the only way to keep you safe, you were beating yourself, you know that? I'm sorry."

Mark left him, alone in a padded room with just the ghost of his lover for company.

*Ten years later*

Mark threw down a newspaper onto the kitchen table. The headline was 'Two Prisoners Die Screaming in Asylum'. Jack frowned, opening the article.

Yesterday afternoon, two patients of the County Asylum died simultaneously, screaming and in immense pain. The patients, Phillip Lester and Matthew Patrick, were both admitted for talking to the 'ghosts' of their deceased lovers, Daniel Howell and Stephanie Patrick. Both Lester and Patrick started screaming at about 3pm and died at the same moment an hour later. Police are baffled at this statement and an investigation is underway.

Lester was buried in a grave next to Howell as requested by close friends, and the two Patricks were buried together also. They were given proper funerals and religious groups are praying that they rest in peace with their loved ones.

Jack gasped, putting a hand to his mouth as tears rolled down his cheeks. Mark put a comforting arm around him, silent tears of his own slipping out of his eyes. "Poor Phil", Mark muttered. "Poor Matthew", Jack whispered. The couple pulled themselves together and hoped with all their hearts that their friends were finally together.

A/N: Holy crud that got sad. I didn't even mean to do the whole bit with the asylum, I was just gonna have Phil wake up from a dream and be like 'boo hoo, it was all a dream, time to get on with my life'!