phan one shots

purple boy

Summary: Dan goes to the roof of an old cinema every time it rains, and it's the only place he lets himself cry. One rainy night someone else decides to join him.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of self harm, depression

Dan Howell sat at the very edge of the roof, on top of the old cinema near his house, watching his feet dangle carelessly over the edge. Barely anyone came to watch movies there anymore except old people and weird teenagers who didn't have anything better to do. They all sat in the small theater enjoying the old movie playing on the screen underneath him, and if it were a sunnier day, Dan would probably be able to hear the muffled voices and laughter of the audience. But it wasn't sunny. It was pouring and that was why Dan was up there today.
Dan came to that old cinema a lot, even as a young bright eyed kid with an innocent heart and a love of adventures, before everything went to shit. He knew everyone there and everyone knew him. They practically raised him, as he came running to them whenever his parents fought or he got bullied at school. The old women who owned the place, Janice and Marianne, a married couple, always folded them into their arms. They patted him on the back, brushing his hair out of his face and pressed kisses to his forehead. They made him popcorn just the way he liked it and played a movie for them to watch in the theater. Coming there and hanging out with them always used to make him feel better. He would laugh his tears away, swallow his sadness, and enjoy his time in a place that felt more like home to him than his own big empty house did.
Marianne and Janice practically being his grandmothers meant he had special privileges to climb up to the roof whenever he wanted. And as the years went by and he grew more and more desperate for a place he could be escape to, they began to expect him, even giving him a key in case they weren't there. He never used to be in such need of somewhere to go to be away from his life. But each year his parents screaming grew louder and louder. Objects were thrown carelessly around the house in fits of rage, breaking against the walls and shattering to the floor and glimmering pieces. They never bothered to clean up. Instead after they were done shouting and accusing each other of everything that came to mind, they'd lock themselves in their separate rooms, cursing and crying, and leaving Dan to sweep up the broken glass, make himself proper dinner, and tuck himself in with tears streaming down his cheeks.
As Dan transitioned into high school, the kids that bullied him for years became too obsessed with their own lives to pay much attention to him, but they still made sure to shout insults at him as he walked past, and spread rumors about him to the school. Dan didn't have friends, and the words both his parents and his bullies threw at him began to break his skin, burying themselves deep in his heart and mind. Dan had always had low self esteem, and when he was little his parents used to hug him and tell him they loved him. But he couldn't remember the last time they'd said that to him, and over time an uncontrollable darkness grew inside of him. He felt an indescribable pain in everything he did, a hatred for himself and his every action. Paralyzing numbness or sadness so heavy it felt like it would drag him through the floor. Some days he couldn't get out of bed, and instead skipped school. Some days the voices in his head were so loud that he broke down, his breaths coming in and out in short choked gasps, but no one was there to teach him how to breathe again, or tell him the voices were wrong.
It felt as though he were walking around with knives sticking out of his chests, and no one noticed except him. His words came less, they became quiet, almost silent like he was scared to speak. He dressed in the night, his clothes almost as dark as his mind. He had coffee colored eyes that used to be as warm as melted chocolate and laced with morning light, but as time wore on, they began to fade, turning sad and empty. He rarely smiled, and when it did, it looked as though it physically pained him, taking everything he had to utter a small "I'm fine."
Janice and Marianne noticed the changes in their once joyful and energetic Dan. They worried for him and when he came to visit with his shoulders slumped and his pink lips pressed into a deep frown, they would hold him close, surprised by how thin he's grown and how cold he seemed. They asked him if everything was okay, if there was anything he wanted to talk about. But he always turned to him with a smile that looked more like a grimace and eyes that looked practically dead, and almost whispered in a voice barely used that he was perfectly okay. They could see that he was lying through his teeth and that he was breaking inside, but every time they tried to press him for answers he would quickly distance himself and disappear from them again.
He didn't cry. At least not when anyone could see. But what most people didn't know was that Dan loved the rain. He loved it with a passion, the only thing he seemed to be able to get excited about anymore. And so whenever the sky darkened, the cotton white clouds turned heavy and gray, he would run as fast as he could to the cinema. He'd throw his hand up in a quick wave as he passed Janice and Marianne, and he would scramble up to the roof as fast as he could, heart racing and breathing ragged. And as the sky shed its first tear, he would sit on the very edge of the roof, letting his long legs dangle below him and let it drench him completely. His brown fluffy curls would fall damp around his head in dripping waves. His black clothes would stick to his skin, defining his much skinnier figure. The rain would wash his icy, sun kissed skin leaving goosebumps in their wake.
And only when the sky cried, covering him in its own misery, would he allow himself to cry. His chest heaved, falling up and down rapidly, his shoulders shaking, hands trembling as he dug his nails into his palms, carving crescent moons. All the sadness, the pain, the self hatred he'd locked inside of himself came bursting out in loud, choked sobs, ripping from his throat and out of his bitten lips. No one could hear his desperate cries over the pouring rain and rumbling sky and that was the point. No one was their to watch his tears spill over, leaving crystals on his dark lashes, and stain his flushed cheeks the darkest of blues.