Work Text:
Days Like This
Dan's been struggling with his mental health since long before Phil ever met him.
Phil knows all about the hard battle that Dan has fought.
He knows how long Dan lived with his depression before Phil finally helped convince him to see a therapist.
He knows that Dan is doing better now; much better than he was nine years ago when they'd first met, or even just a couple years ago when he'd decided to continue his therapy without medication.
And Phil also knows that, despite his best efforts to support him, Dan is going to have Bad Days: days where his depression takes a firm hold and there's nothing Dan can do but ride it out.
He never has to ride it out alone, though….
...because Phil is always there to face it with him.
Some days, Dan wants Phil to stay with him. He wants Phil to sit beside him as he stares off into space - his brain running a mile a minute and out of his control - or to hold him tight as he cries, unable to handle the crushing weight of his own dark thoughts.
Some days, Dan just wants to be left alone. Those days are the hardest for Phil, but he does his best to give his boyfriend the space he needs while still making sure that he takes care of himself - even if he doesn't want to.
Most days involve a little bit of both.
On days like this, Phil gives Dan whatever he needs.
If he needs a shoulder to cry on, Phil offers one.
If he needs someone to yell at, Phil lends Dan his ear.
When Dan wants to be held, Phil opens his arms.
When Dan wants his space, Phil gives it to him.
One chilly October morning - just a couple months after returning home from their Interactive Introverts tour - Phil wakes to the sight of his best friend's eyes staring blankly back at him, and he knows it’s going to be one of Dan’s Bad Days.
And so Phil takes a long, deep breath, and attempts to find out what kind of day they're in for.
“Dan?” Phil asks softly, reaching out to touch his boyfriend's face before remembering that he shouldn't; not until he knows that Dan is open to it today.
Dan doesn't say anything. Instead, he continues to stare silently at Phil - or, more accurately, through Phil, as Dan’s thoughts are clearly elsewhere.
Phil sighs, and he scoots just a bit closer to Dan under the covers, careful not to touch him.
It's an invitation, and Phil waits to see if Dan wants to accept it.
…
……
…
He doesn't.
Instead, Dan rolls onto his back and closes his eyes.
Phil knows what it means, but he asks the question anyway.
“Do you want to be alone?”
Dan doesn't say a word. Instead he nods slowly, eyes still shut tight.
“Okay. I know you wanted to work on editing our new gaming video today, but we can do it tomorrow instead.”
He nods again, and Phil knows the only reason Dan’s content with that idea is because it's an unannounced video, so their subscribers aren't expecting anything.
Phil sits up in bed and gazes down at Dan, his heart aching for his best friend.
Phil feels utterly helpless on days like this, but he never lets that stop him from doing his best to help Dan.
After all, Dan’s helped Phil through his own fair share of troubles.
They're in this together; for better or for worse.
“I had a few errands I was going to run today,” Phil says, “but I can put them off until-”
“No.”
The word is quiet; so quiet that Phil almost misses it.
“No?” he asks, staring down at Dan and wishing he would open his eyes.
“You should go,” Dan responds, and while his voice lacks emotion his words most definitely do not. “You shouldn't have to put your life on hold because of me.”
Phil sighs.
“Dan, we've talked about this. It isn't a big deal. It's only a couple of chores, and it's my decision if I want to-”
“I want you to go,” Dan says softly. Again, there's no emotion in his voice, and Phil’s heart clenches tightly in his chest. No matter how much Phil may be used to these days, it never really gets easier to see Dan like this.
“I…are you sure?” Phil asks, though he knows the answer he's going to get.
“Please go.”
Phils sighs deeply. “Okay, then. If that's what you want, then I'll go,” he agrees.
Phil would give Dan anything he asked for on a day like this, provided it was within his power to do so.
“I'll be gone for a couple hours,” Phil tells Dan as he climbs out from under the covers and stands next to the bed. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”
He's not sure if Dan's going to answer him, but eventually he gets a silent nod in response.
Phil wants so badly to lean down and touch his boyfriend - to caress his cheek or kiss his forehead or run his fingers through his curls - but he doesn't. Instead he gets dressed, preparing to leave.
On his way out of their bedroom, Phil pauses, hand clenched tightly around the doorknob.
“I love you,” Phil says quietly.
He doesn't expect a response, and he doesn't get one….
...but it's okay, because he doesn't need one.
He said it for Dan, because he knows that Dan needs to hear it.
Especially on days like this.
Phil comes home a few hours later, arms weighed down with bags: dry cleaning, groceries, and other odds and ends they'd needed around the flat. He drops everything in the kitchen and starts putting it all away.
Once he's down to just the dry cleaning he heads toward the bedroom. He finds Dan in bed where he left him, eyes closed and breathing soft. Phil’s not sure if he's asleep or not, but he doesn't check. Instead he puts away their clothes and heads back to the kitchen to make some lunch.
After making himself a sandwich, Phil prepares a nice salad for Dan, which he pops in the fridge for later. He won't ask Dan to eat quite yet, but he knows he may need to coax him sooner or later.
He knows eating is important for Dan on days like this.
Food's not the only thing that's important, of course, so Phil grabs a glass, fills it with water, and heads back to Dan. He leaves the glass on the nightstand where Dan can find it when he wakes up, then allows himself a few seconds to watch Dan sleep.
The urge to reach out and touch him is stronger than ever, but Phil fights it. Instead, he heads back to the kitchen to grab his lunch.
He eats alone in the lounge, only half listening to the anime rerun he's chosen to watch (he wouldn't dare watch anything new without Dan).
Once his stomach is full, he decides to take a shower. He tries not to let his mind wander to thoughts of Dan as he goes through the motions, but he can't help it.
His mind always wanders to thoughts of Dan on days like this.
He spends a bit longer in the shower than he really needs to, and when he's done he wraps himself up in a few towels and heads to the bedroom to change into his comfy clothes.
Their bed is empty….
...and so is the glass of water that Phil left for Dan.
Phil feels himself smiling for the first time that day as he gets dressed and grabs the book off his nightstand.
He finds Dan sitting on the sofa in the lounge, wrapped up tightly within the folds of his favorite brown blanket. There's a half empty glass of water on the coffee table in front of him, and while it's clear that his mind is still far away, his eyes look brighter and more alert than they did before.
Phil’s heart aches with hope, and he goes back to the kitchen to get Dan's salad. After slathering on a bit more dressing than would technically be considered healthy, he returns to the lounge and wordlessly places the salad bowl next to Dan's water glass. The he sits down on the opposite end of the sofa - close, but not too close - and tries to lose himself in his book.
A few minutes later, he hears movement, and he looks up to see Dan unwrap his arms from his blanket cocoon, grab the salad, and start eating.
Phil smiles softly, but he goes back to his book without saying a word.
The next time he looks up, Dan’s wrapped in his blanket once more, but half the salad is gone and his glass of water is empty. Phil knows that the food and the water will help, and he's glad that today is one of those days where Dan just needs a bit of gentle coaxing.
Phil buries himself in his book for a while, losing track of how long they both sit quietly on the couch. He knows that Dan appreciates watching Phil go about his day as usual; knows he finds comfort in the normalcy and simplicity of it. So Phil continues to read, hoping that - in some small way - this simple moment is helping.
And when Dan finally closes the space between them and rests his head on Phil’s shoulder, he knows that it is.
Phil doesn't move or touch him at first - not until Dan presses his shoulder into Phil’s side, pulls his legs up toward his chest, and turns his body slightly so that his knees are resting on top of Phil’s thigh.
Only then does Phil touch him.
Only then does Phil transfer his book to his left hand so he can put his right hand on top of Dan's knee and squeeze it firmly.
Only then does Phil let himself gently stroke his boyfriend's leg as he continues to read.
They stay like that for a long time, Dan's cheek pressed tight to Phil’s shoulder.
Eventually, Phil feels his shirt grow wet, but he doesn’t say anything or draw attention to it.
He just lets Dan cry silently.
When Dan shifts against him, shuddering and wrapping the blanket tighter around himself, Phil moves his arm out from between them and wraps it around Dan's back. Then he rests his hand on his boyfriend's shoulder and squeezes tightly.
A soft noise escapes Dan, and he moves in somehow closer, the length of his body pressed up tight to Phil’s. Despite the multiple layers of fabric separating him from the man he loves, Phil can still feel the tension in Dan's body….
...and so he cups the side of Dan's face, presses his fingertips against his forehead, and rubs firmly; desperate to soothe the tension away - now and forever.
Of course, Phil knows that he'll never really be able to make it go away forever.
But the now?
The now he can help with.
…
……
…
And he does.
He rubs Dan's brow until the lines of worry are smoothed away. Then he leans in and plants a soft kiss to the top of Dan's head.
Dan whimpers quietly, and Phil moves his hand so he can press his lips to Dan's brow, too. Dan leans into the kiss, and when Phil finally pulls away Dan turns and buries his face against Phil's shoulder with a sob.
Phil rests his cheek against the top of Dan's head and slowly strokes his fingers through his boyfriend's curls.
He never says a word as he comforts Dan.
He doesn't need to.
Dan knows what every silent rub and stroke and kiss means.
I'm here.
I love you.
It's gonna be okay.
And so Dan cries quietly and lets himself be held.
When the two of them climb into bed later that night, Phil pulls his best friend close, and Dan wraps his arms tightly around Phil in return.
Phil waits for an apology but he doesn't get one, and he's glad.
It's taken a long time to convince Dan that he doesn't need to apologize for days like this.
Instead of an apology, Dan whispers, “I love you.”
It's the first time he's spoken since that morning, and Phil can't remember the last time he was this happy to hear Dan's voice.
And as Phil kisses Dan's brow and says “go to sleep, love, I'm here,” he knows tomorrow will be better.
…the end…