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It smells like a doctor's office. Even though none of the people around him are poorly, it still smells like a doctor's office, and Phil doesn't know why.
He also doesn't know why they're playing elevator music or why the woman behind the reception desk clicks her nails against the plastic bit at the bottom of her keyboard or why a lorry outside keeps blaring its horn or -
Anything. Phil doesn't know much anything, really. He doesn't even know why he's here. Beside him, Dan's just staring down at his phone. He hasn't so much as looked at Phil in the ten minutes they've been waiting.
"Hey," Phil says, quietly, like he just needs to fill the space between them with something. "I spy."
"No." Dan's voice is flat.
It shouldn't sting, but it does. Phil feels embarrassment cut through him, and he looks away, out the door. There's nothing but a hallway with dull gray carpet.
He wishes he hadn't come. He really, really doesn't know why Dan asked him to.
He can feel it when Dan looks at him, but he doesn't look over.
*
Dan gets up when they call his name.
He doesn't say anything to Phil, just gets up and walks through the door being held open for him. Phil watches him go, watches the length of his long legs and the way his shirt has ridden up above his belt a bit, the way his shoulders are tight and tense.
It's one of those moments Phil has every now and then, when he wishes they didn't feel held back by invisible hands. He'd liked to have given Dan a hug before he went in, or - something.
Instead he watches the door close behind Dan and then he breathes out, trying to exhale all the worry and tension pressing down on his chest.
*
It's the third try. He's not sure Dan will find the energy for a fourth attempt if this doesn't work.
Phil can't say with any certainty what it is about the appointments that crush Dan so thoroughly. Dan tells him some things, bits and pieces in the days after, but not enough for a whole picture. He knows it's left Dan feeling bad enough that he hadn't even returned the follow up calls from either previous therapist.
Phil clenches his hands into fists. Dan needs this one to work. Phil needs this one to work, for Dan and for himself. He needs to be able to wake up every morning and know that this strange limbo they're in will come to an end. They're on the plateau of something, the two of them. It feels like the worst is behind. It feels like there are great things ahead.
But Phil can't carry Dan forward, and right now there are more days where Dan can't face the world than days where he can. They can't exist like that forever, not professionally or personally.
Phil's not walking away from Dan. There's nothing in heaven or on earth that would make him leave Dan's side. But it's excruciating, the idea of spending his forever staring into the blank face of someone who tells Phil in that slightly broken voice that he can't remember what being happy feels like.
The door to the waiting room opens with a long creak. Phil jumps in his seat, hand flying up to cover his suddenly pounding heart.
The woman walking in gives him a strange look. He smiles back weakly in apology, and lowers his hand back to the arm of the chair, fingers curling in on themselves again.
*
Dan's quiet when he comes out. Phil can't tell if it's a good quiet or a bad quiet.
His face is pale and his eyes are red, like he's been crying. Sometimes that's good, too. Sometimes Dan cries on the getting-better days, like all the hours of numbness were really just a well of emotion getting ready to overflow.
"Can we get food?" He asks Phil. "I need to eat."
"Of course," Phil says. "What do you feel like having?"
Dan shrugs. "Whatever."
"Home first, or..." Phil trails off.
Dan looks at Phil and shakes his head. "I don't want to go home yet. Let's go out somewhere."
*
Phil makes an impulsive decision that takes them somewhere nice. It's probably too nice for the sort of clothes they're wearing, but he remembers Dan really liked the steak at this restaurant the last time they came and he just wants to give Dan something that he likes right now.
"Drinks?" He asks. Sometimes alcohol isn't a great idea for Dan, but sometimes he likes a nice cocktail. Phil just - he doesn't know. He doesn't know what to do right now, or what to say.
Dan shakes his head. "Not tonight."
"Okay." Phil falls quiet again. He looks around, makes awkward accidental eye contact with a man just being seated, and then hastily looks back down at the table.
"Phil." Dan's voice is soft, drawing Phil in.
"Your water." Phil realizes Dan's glass is two thirds empty. He reaches for the delicate pitcher between them and picks it up, but when he goes to pour the water sloshes out onto the table.
Dan says his name again, a hint of laughter in his voice this time, and reaches out to take the pitcher from Phil's shaking grasp before Phil spills water everywhere.
Phil's heart beats rabbit-fast again. It's that feeling like he can't quite get enough air in his lungs and everyone in the room is staring at him. He doesn't have a word for the feeling, he just knows that he hates how his body betrays him.
But then Dan takes Phil's hands in his. "Breathe," he says, and: "It's okay."
Phil nods slightly and does what Dan says, breathing in and out. Dan's hands are warmer than Phil's and bigger than Phil's and keep his fingers steady.
"How was it?" Phil asks, words slightly rushed. "Really, how was it?"
"I think it was good," Dan says. He puts the water pitcher down, ignoring the growing spot of dampness on the tablecloth. "I felt like she actually like... fucking listened to me. Let me talk before she started picking around in my head or trying to figure out who in my childhood made me this way."
"So you're going back?" Phil hopes Dan understands the eagerness only stems from love, from wanting Dan to get what he needs.
"I made another appointment," Dan says. "Can we just - I don't think I want to talk about that anymore today. I'm just-"
Dan flattens his hand and holds it slightly over his head. Phil understands - Dan's at a limit, he's past capacity. He'll tell Phil more, but not just yet.
That's alright. Phil can work with that.
"Yeah," Phil says. "Of course."
And then Phil starts to talk, rambling about the latest idea he has for a video and the commercial his mum told him she saw on television and whatever else comes to mind, because he knows sometimes Dan just wants to hear his voice to distract him out of spiraling thoughts and Phil would give Dan anything he asked.