Chapter Text
Dan took the train that Thursday with what he could only call giddiness.
He wore the best outfit he owned. A black techno hoodie and a pair of black jeans.
Dan wondered if it would be different to see the Manchester Boy through his own eyes. He agonized over what he would say when he saw him.
When the PA announced the next stop was Manchester, every thought evaporated, and Dan could do little else besides frantically fix his fringe.
He hopped onto the station as the train drew to a stop.
Dan wandered to the entrance, all the while searching for the black-haired boy.
He was a bit early, so he sat down by the door when he couldn't find him.
Ten minutes passed, then twenty. Dan searched the station.
When that proved futile, he asked the attendants if they had seen a boy that matched the description. By the time he had gotten a negative response from the train station attendants, an hour had passed.
Dan felt dejected. He briefly considered taking a train back home, but quickly dismissed the idea.
The Manchester boy was not the type to leave someone stood up, besides it wasn’t like Dan had suggested the date. And it wasn’t like they could avoid each other, they were body-switching for god’s sake!
So Dan did the only thing that he could think of and picked a cab to the university.
As the driver approached the campus, Dan started to get a terrible gut feeling that something was wrong. He couldn't quite place it, but he knew it to be true.
As he stepped out of the cab and strolled towards the student accommodations, his ears were ringing. A voice in Dan’s head was whispering ‘ This isn’t quite right ’, but he did his best to ignore it as he walked the path toward the student house he was now so familiar with.
When Dan finally saw it, he felt his world tilt.
Suddenly it all clicked into place. That feeling he had had earlier, the voice — his own — which had tried to warn him that something was off, suddenly made sense.
The student house, which had been his home of sorts while he lived in another person's body, was gone .
Dan began to notice all the little details that he had missed before.
The grass on campus was significantly greener than it had been a week before, and the pavement on the road which had been cracked was now smooth. A million little things were plain wrong.
Dan felt himself shaking.
He stood there staring at the empty patch of grass where the house should be , hardly blinking. The first thought that broke through his white noise panic, was that perhaps he had imagined it all.
Dan had deluded himself into believing that body-switching, witches, and perfect boys who were interested in him existed.
He felt his eyes well up.
But no . Dan knew this place, even though he had never been to Manchester in his life. He had recognized every building and up until this point, he could point out where each building was.
That’s when Dan spotted someone in the distance. A young man with large glasses that covered most of his face. His lenses were thick and made his eyes look almost comically large. He was a bit further than the empty lot at which Dan was staring.
It seemed as if he was gathering the courage to venture into the trees that lay beyond. A small wood that led to an open field.
What caught Dan’s attention was the telescope that was folded and slung over his shoulder. In his hand was a map.
Dan caught his eye as he looked up. The young man cowered a little, and Dan decided to approach him.
“Hello, umm…this might sound odd but do you know what happened to the house that was there,” Dan asked, his voice trembling from the shock still.
The boy with the glasses seemed taken aback as if he was expecting a different question.
“Er, you mean the old Clarence house? It burned down two years ago. It's pretty well known…are you a first year?”.
Dan nodded and swallowed thickly. He didn't know what to make of it.
“Was anybody hurt?” he stuttered out.
The boy looked less intimidated by Dan, he was looking at him with growing concern.
“I think a couple of the students were there that night. I’m not sure. Plenty of rumors that this spot is haunted you know how it is,” the boy said.
Dan began to shake again. He could hardly think. He began to have a full-blown panic attack and before he knew it he was sitting on the ground.
Dan lost track of time, and when he finally came to he was sitting on the ground with his head between his legs. There was a foul smell in the air and the boy from before was sitting next to him mirroring his body language.
“What happened?” Dan asked faintly.
“You threw up over there,” the boy pointed to a nearby bush.
“You had some sort of nervous attack, Im George, by the way,” the boy said.
“Im Dan,” he whispered back.
“You said,” George replied gruffly.
“My friend…I think he died,” Dan said, a stray tear making its way down his face.
“You said,” George whispered back a little more kindly.
They sat there in silence, Dan sniffling and George fiddling with his telescope, for a while.
“Were you going somewhere with that,” Dan said at last, pointing to the telescope.
“Yeah, there’s a star shower today. I told you all of this earlier, but I don't think you were in your right mind. I wanted to photograph the star shower. That land beyond belongs to a local farmer, he doesn’t like students on his land, but it's the best view of the event,”
Dan’s ears perked up.
A star shower. Anchoring. Fate.
The old Dan Howell, the one that hadn’t met the boy from Manchester, would cower. He would sit here and let his darkest moods win until it was time to go home.
But the old woman, the boy from Manchester’s grandmother, had said it best. This thing that was happening to them...it must be for a good reason.
Dan jumped to his feet.
“George, I know we just met. And you just probably saw me at my lowest, but I need your help,” Dan said, sounding more sure of himself than he was used to ever sounding.
George looked at him skeptically.
“I know I don't look like someone that might have better things to do…and you may be mostly right about that. But why should I do that?” George asked, standing up and dusting off.
“Because I know the best place to see the star shower, and I'm taking you there.”
Phil spent Wednesday night agonizing over what to wear.
The boy he was meeting up with the next day was living in a tiny town, and that’s probably the only reason he hadn’t realized how attractive he truly was.
Phil had this sneaking suspicion that once the other boy truly saw him in person, he would realize what a sham he was. He fought hard against the negativity and pulled out his favorite shirt to lay it out for the next day.
He planned to be at the station half an hour early to get them both coffee and set a nice first impression. Phil went to bed early for that purpose.
He could sense it was nighttime when the first scream woke him.
Phil scrambled out of bed and ran to his door, but his hands jerked back as he touched the handle. Phil cried out in pain and finally noticed the smoke curling into his bedroom from underneath the door.
He could hear all the noise now. People screaming, shouting commands at one another.
Phil banged loudly on the door, shouting at his friends that he was still in there.
He had no window in his room, a byproduct of being on the first floor and next to the kitchen. He loved the privacy it gave him. Now it seemed like a fool’s idea of gold.
With nowhere else to go, the smoke was building up fast. Phil tried to use his bedding, then a t-shirt, to open the hot handle but the heat had swollen the metal and sealed it shut.
It was getting harder to breathe.
Instinct caused him to grab a glass of water that lay by his bedside and pour it onto one of his t-shirts. He held the wet fabric against his face and tried to breathe through it.
It helped for a little bit. He fell to the floor and fought to keep his eyes open. His last thought was that at least he wouldn't be awake when the flames consumed his body.
It took some coaxing from Dan but he managed to get George on his side.
Once he was on board though, he was priceless. George was on the student board and had access to the library as a part time employee.
He led Dan to the back rooms where he handed him a student newspaper clipping from two years before.
It was as Dan had suspected. The student house had burnt down that same night two years before. There were no names on the paper but they did mention some casualties.
“George, you said you can get us to the spot I promised, right?” Dan asked, opening the backpack he had brought from home.
“Er, yes?” George said.
Dan pulled out his notebook, the one with Phil’s notes. He reverently placed the newspaper inside and thumbed through his notes a few weeks back.
There it was.
“I need you to take us here, do you know it?” He said pointing to the letter.
George nodded. And off they were.
Hello,
I don't expect to leave university much but just in case! My parents live at 67 Greenwich Street in Bolton. Martin will usually give me a ride but I'll leave money if you need to get there or back.
They're nice, and so is Martin. Just go with the flow.
P.S My gran lives at 10 W Claremont Hill in Rossendale. Only other place I might be this semester.
Dan stomped down all his panic as he held on for dear life to poor George.
It was out of kindness that he hadn’t explained the whole situation to the poor guy.
When George said he could get them to Rossendale, Dan had not been expecting the blue motorcycle that bounced as they drove.
Although Dan suspected the driver was more deficient than the vehicle.
George was wearing a pair of special goggles that blocked the sun and helped him see and he was ignoring Dan in favor of hyper fixating on the road.
Dan in turn, was clawing onto George’s middle to try to stay on the bike, while also juggling the boy’s telescope on his back.
Needless to say, they got quite a few stares from the other drivers on the road.
The drive was not long, maybe thirty minutes by George’s estimation, but Dan’s palms were sweaty.
He had a theory. Just a glimmer of hope to save the boy from Manchester. He hadn’t allowed himself to consider the alternative.
But nevertheless the sun was beginning to dim and everything was now a fight against the clock.
When they arrived at the house, Dan jumped from the bike and ran toward the backyard.
He was followed by a protesting George.
Dan hopped the small fence, forgetting about his companion who trailed behind at a slower pace.
He spared one look at the house, not really caring if the people that lived there now spotted him, and then he continued jogging toward the wood from the night he saw the stars.
It didn’t take long to spot the tree he remembered kneeling under. It had only been a fortnight since he had buried the box with Nan. Besides, these woods were distinct.
Dan dug with his bare hands, frantically.
“Hey! What the fu..woah,” George exhaled behind him. He had wanted to scold Dan, but he was too mesmerized by the beautiful clearing above them and the way the trees framed the twilight sky.
Dan was panting with effort and desperation. Maybe the box was long gone. One of his hands got scraped and he was beginning to make serious damage to the bleeding tissue, when he felt the hard surface of the box.
He pulled it out, covering himself in wet dirt in the process. Inside was the vile he was looking for.
Dan held it reverently and hugged it to himself. His eyes closed briefly with relief.
He put the box back in the dirt and tried to catch his breath.
“I think I need to drink this…to go back to where the house was. It's an anchor…,” he mused out loud.
George was not listening. He had started to set up his telescope and his eyes were firmly set on the sky.
“You were right. This is the perfect spot. How did you find this place?”
It was Dan’s turn to ignore him.
“No…it’s all about timing…that’s what she said. When does the star shower begin?” Dan asked, suddenly anxious again.
“Any minute now, it only lasts an hour so we made it just in time,” George said, staring into the lens with one eye.
Dan scrambled to his feet.
“George, I need to get back. Now!”
“I'm not leaving, this is a prime spot,” the older boy scoffed.
“Please! There’s no time!”
The other boy turned to look at him and considered him for what Dan felt was an eternity.
Finally George clicked his teeth and threw something at Dan. He caught it reflexively.
Keys.
“Knock yourself out mate, just make sure to come back for me once you’re done,” he said.
Dan could cry from relief and gratitude.
But he had no time.
He had heard once that when mothers need to protect their children, they can exhibit superhuman strengths.
Dan always thought it might be a myth, until that moment.
He didn't know how he managed to drive the motorcycle back to the university campus, or indeed how he had stayed alive as he zoomed at top speed through the road.
He could see the university in the distance when the stars began to fall.
Dan rode the motorcycle well past the road and onto the grass. He let it hit the floor as he approached the spot where the student house used to be.
With trembling hands he held the glass vial up. Please work, he whispered to himself.
Dan threw his head backwards as he swallowed the musty liquid. His eyes followed the stars falling down the sky and as his gaze lowered he saw the familiar student house.
It was bathed in flames, as if the star fire had rained down on it.
Dan ran towards it, past the people he could now see.
A fire truck was throwing water helplessly into the fire and students scattered around the lot, watching it all burn down.
Dan followed one of the rescue workers inside, a few cries from onlookers were heard, but he didn’t let it stop him.
Dan saw immediately that the door to the room he knew was shut.
“Help! There’s someone in this room!” He shouted after the rescue workers. But they were preoccupied with the upstairs and telling him to get the hell out.
There were flames on the right side of the room’s door, slowly making their way forward. There was no time. Dan had to do something now.
With every bit of his strength Dan charged at the door. Once, twice, three times before it gave out. The door frame came apart, but then again the whole house seemed ready to crumble.
One of the rescuers that had seen it happen from upstairs was cursing at Dan, telling him the house was going to come apart soon.
But Dan couldn’t hear him. His eyes were glued to the raven haired boy that laid on the ground.
Phil was in a dream-like state when he heard the door burst open. Every breath burned his throat, so he decided he would stop breathing soon.
That's when he felt his body being lifted.
Someone was speaking to him. Urging him to do something or another, but Phil could do little more than try to hold his own weight, unsuccessfully.
He was bolted awake by a sharp burning pain on his thigh. He cried out as did his companion.
That's when Phil saw him. It was the boy! He was here, but how?
A piece of the door frame, engulfed in flames. had fallen on them and had burned Phil’s thigh and the boy's shoulder.
“Come on, if we don’t get out soon the whole thing will fall on top of us,” the boy was pleading with him.
Phil dragged himself along, holding on to the boy. They made it past the entrance and desperately kept moving as they heard the croaking of the house.
Primal instinct took over and Phil sprinted as he felt the heat of the falling building lick at his ankles.
The fire chased after them and when they finally cleared it, Phil and the boy both collapsed onto the wet grass.
They both turned to look as the fire consumed everything. The crowd that had gathered outside watched in rapture.
But Phil was preoccupied with new things.
He ignored the muttering crowd, the collapsing building, and even the burnt flesh on his leg.
“It’s you,” he said.
The boy was as handsome as Phil had imagined. He was a little more timid than Phil, although that must be because he was a bit younger.
The boy was looking at him with a panicked expression, and Phil thought briefly that maybe he was disappointed with the way Phil looked through his own eyes.
But that worry was quickly dispelled when the boy pulled him roughly by the collar and kissed him.
Dan felt his toes curl as the boy from Manchester returned the kiss. He was a much better kisser than Dan was, but he had the advantage of having kissed other boys.
They pulled apart and the other boy smiled at him so playfully earnest that it hurt.
“How are you here? We weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow,” he was saying playfully.
Dan’s chest hurt. He looked at the sky, the stars were more scarce than they had been. Their time was almost up.
“You remember when you asked me if I believed in soulmates?” Dan asked, his voice thick.
The other boy nodded.
“I changed my mind. I think they do exist,”
The other boy laughed and smiled shyly at him.
“I suppose I'll take that as an explanation, as long as I can do this again,” the other boy said.
He kissed Dan again, this time digging his hands into Dan’s curls. Dan wanted to hold that moment and live in it forever.
He started crying.
The other boy pulled away, looking at him with rapidly growing concern.
“What’s wrong?” He asked. Blinking at him with those round blue green eyes.
“I think this is goodbye, Im ...i’m not really here,” Dan stuttered out.
They both saw it then. How they were both slowly fading from the other’s reality. They both saw a blue light was starting to emit from the other.
The boy looked at Dan with panic written all over his features.
“I'll still see you tomorrow right?” He cried out holding Dan’s hands.
Dan shook his head and looked into his eyes. Hoping the other boy would find meaning behind them, and that it would be enough to replace the explanations he had no time to give.
“My name is Phil…Phil Lester,” the boy said.
Phil was looking at him expectantly.
But Dan knew he couldn’t say his name back.
If Phil looked for him then, two years into the past, Dan would be a scrawny sixteen year old who had no idea who Phil was.
It broke his heart, but he had to keep him in the dark. This would truly be goodbye.
Dan pulled the taller boy into a hug and whispered in his ear.
“You’re my soulmate Phil Lester.”
When Dan pulled away, everything was gone.
After
No one questioned why Phil Lester was in tears as the paramedics approached him, or on the ambulance ride to the hospital.
Even Phil, who was well known for not shedding tears often, was bound to cry after such a close brush with death.
People did little else other than question why Dan was crying. He broke his promise to George to come get him, but it was that same boy who found him lying on the empty patch of grass crying.
It was George that finally called for help. Dan was crying hysterically, unable to explain what was wrong with him.
It landed him a trip to a very special hospital where he stayed for two weeks and where he was finally diagnosed with depression.
His parents came to get him that last day, Dan had already started taking medication.
He was starting to feel better. Less lost, but he knew that there was something else missing. He just couldn’t remember what it was.
And of course, the depression didn’t explain why he felt like there was something on the tip of his tongue. Or why he had a phantom ache on his shoulder.
Phil knew he had lost something that night of the fire. He kept saying this to his friends, his family.
They nodded sympathetically. Phil had lost most of his things that night. His computer, filled with videos he didn’t get to upload, his precious collection of TV show memorabilia, and his diary.
But Phil knew in the back of his mind that he had lost something less tangible, something he couldn’t quite name.
He woke up sometimes from nightmares he couldn’t remember and on his lips he felt the ghost of that thing which he desperately longed for but couldn’t remember.
Sometimes, for no good reason, he would start crying as he looked at the sky.
On his last day at the mental ward, Dan had an unexpected visitor.
George walked into Dan’s room, looking about as awkward as Dan felt. They sat in silence for a while.
“I really hope you’re doing better. I feel very guilty about what happened that night,” George said, breaking the revered silence.
Dan stared at him puzzled.
“Whatever could you feel guilty for? If anything it's me who feels sorry. I was out of my mind. I don't even remember why I was in Manchester,” Dan said.
“I should have realized you needed help after you had that first breakdown. I'm sorry man,” George said.
Dan shook his head but smiled at George.
“You are good as gold in my book George,” he said, patting the older boy on the shoulder.
George grinned at him.
They chatted for a bit after. Dan learned that George was graduating that winter and that he had plans to become a nature photographer after school.
He had brought Dan a picture he had taken the night of the star shower. It was a beautiful shot of the sky, framed.
“I submitted it for an award. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I think it's got a good shot of winning. If it does, I'm basically guaranteed a paid position at my dream publication. And…well… Daniel, I’ve got you to thank for it.”
Dan cowered under the praise, but George assured him he thought it was well deserved.
He even asked Dan to promise to come to his graduation. He left soon after, leaving Dan the framed picture of the sky.
A nurse asked Dan if she should put the frame elsewhere, thinking maybe Dan would find the memory of that night disturbing or even potentially triggering.
But Dan found a sort of comfort in it, it scratched at that itch he felt in his brain.
He stared at the picture as he fell asleep and when he got home, he hung it on his wall.
Phil felt some relief the day of his graduation from college. He had spent two years working hard at school, on his youtube channel, and even at healing his inner turmoil.
He felt nowhere close to cured of his melancholy, but he did feel as if he was approaching something more in his life.
His ceremony was lumped with everyone in media, communications and journalism. Close to a thousand students. The ceremony lasted two grueling hours, but when he finally walked the stage, he did feel as if he had crossed a major milestone.
Afterwards, in the lawn he was joined by his family who fussed over him and made plans to have dinner together that night.
His family almost forgot him as they argued over where to dine.
It was alright.
Phil’s mind had begun to wander towards someone in the crowd.
A boy, leaning against a wall. Looking like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He kind of became the only thing Phil could see.
Like his vision was narrowing down until all he could see was the boy.
His family was still bickering over what to eat, as Phil wandered away and towards this boy.
When their eyes met, Phil froze.
Star fire, kissing in the grass, soulmates.
He could tell that the other boy was remembering too.
Phil ran towards the boy and he in turn pushed off the wall and met him halfway.
The crowd around them was loud but Phil could hardly hear them.
“Hey,” the boy said.
“Hello.”
Phil was staring into those brown eyes as if his life depended on it.
“This may be an odd question but…do you believe in soulmates?” Phil said and he felt a bit faint.
The boy smiled at him. It was a sad smile, but also the most radiant one Phil had ever seen.
“I didn’t, for a long time. I'm Dan by the way” the boy replied.
Phil finally smiled at Dan.
He didn’t say it then.
It would’ve been crazy even for them.
They never talked about it.
Not that night when they met up to stroll the streets of Manchester together after their respective engagements.
Not after they kissed and exchanged numbers under the yellow moonlight. Both of them trembling with excitement and anticipation.
They didn’t talk about it during any of their extensive skype calls, or when Dan moved in with Phil only three months later.
They both knew it.
And they somehow knew the other one knew it.
All there was, was the first time they made love, and they were holding each other afterward.
Phil whispered it into Dan’s ear.
“You’re my soulmate Dan Howell.”
And what more could there be to say about it all.