Fluffy Phan One-Shots

Some Nights are Harder than Others

Author's Note: I realized as I wrote a bunch of these one shots that a lot of you readers have depression or other mental illnesses. I just wanted to make this chapter dedicated to a lot of you guys. This chapter is sort of like my view on depression. They might be completely wrong and you might not believe what I say, but this is just what I would like some readers to know I guess. So, please, if you have a mental illness, stick around. (I completely understand if not)

Trigger Warning: talks about depression
*Phil's point of view*

"Come on, Dan," I said gently. "Let me in," I begged. I knocked again. I knew something was off with him. He didn't sleep all night, he didn't eat at all and didn't come out of his room unless he was grabbing a bowl. I knew Dan like the back of my hand, this was one of his bad days. He refused to talk to me though. I texted him a few times asking if he need anything, but he didn't respond. I tried calling, but that went to voicemail. I had finally given up and went to our room, but the door happened to be locked.

"Please?" I pleaded with him and rested my head against the door. After a few moments I heard some shuffling and the door opened. He looked awful. There were bags under his eyes that were almost purple. His eyes themselves looked so tired and dull. His hair was just a mess on top of his head and his face looked pale and clammy. He looked at me and wiped a few tears off of his face.

"I'm sorry," His voice was almost gone. It was raspy and so quiet it was barely above a whisper. I tilted my head at him and gave him a questioning look. "I should've answered your texts and calls and I didn't... but I should've. I just... I didn't..." Tears were welling up in his eyes again so I immediately pulled him down into a hug. I wrapped my around his shoulders and he laid his head on mine, nuzzling into my neck. He wrapped his arms around my torso and grabbed my shirt with his fists. He took a shaky exhale as the tears streamed down his face.

"It's alright, Dan," I whispered as I pulled him closer. "You opened the door for me... you let me in eventually... so it's fine, Bear." I carded my fingers through his hair. He seemed to squeeze me tighter after I said that. He pulled back and tears welled up in his eyes again.

"I got your neck all wet," He sighed and wiped his face again. It made me a little sad to see Dan like this. He always blamed himself for every little thing that was a mild inconvenience. I just wanted him to be okay, I don't care about my neck being wet.

"It's, whatever." I wiped it off with my sleeve and then brought it to his line of vision. "See, came off right away." I smiled at him, he nodded and looked down at his feet again. "Want to go to the kitchen for a little bit?" I asked, he frowned. "You haven't eaten all day. Let's go get you some toast or something." I grabbed his hands and ran my fingers over his.

"I can take care of myself, you know," Dan muttered. "I'm twenty seven, not five." He looked at me and raised his eyebrows slightly.

"I know you can, but let me take care of you." I pulled him out the door slightly. "Just until you're feeling better." I walked him out the doorway and he reluctantly followed.

"Everything tastes like shit, though," Dan sighed as I popped the bread into the toaster. "And I'm probably just gonna throw it up anyway," He said glumly. I took the hot toast and put it on the plate in front of him.

"Just way those two slices and that's it, can you do that for me?" I smiled at him, he rolled his eyes. "It's good for you to eat something," I urged him. He reluctantly took a bite which made me internally cheer. "And toast stays down, it's what I eat when I have migraines," I explained he nodded and kept eating, I got him to drink some water, too. By the time he was finished he looked ten times better.