Chapter Text
Phil Lester's marks began appearing once he turned 18. They began faintly, he could barely make out any letters. It seemed that both names were short. And.. similar-looking.
He never thought anything about it. He always heard his friends talk animatedly about it.
"Mom said it will fully appear when you come across this person!"
But they never talk about the mark on their other wrist. Stinging with every passing day, as if someone is dragging a knife across his arm, barely cutting in, but leaving lines behind.
Phil always felt that pain, but stronger. It felt like something continuously scraping his skin.
And, so, he tried to ignore it. He had more than enough on his plate as it is.
His dad was dying. His job was barely paying him enough to take care of him and himself. Nothing was right.
So Phil Lester resorted to stealing. He'd always wait until then store he worked in reached closing hours and would briefly pick up a few things.
Nobody checked the cameras anyways -- he just wanted to have a warm meal when his dad wasn't busy trying to stay awake in his room. He wanted to get him the medicine he would usually not be able to afford. He just wanted his dad to live.
Phil Lester was 25 when he saw his mark for the first time.
He had been scrolling through their old computer, looking at the news, when he saw the two letters.
D.H.
There had been news of a murder in town. It didn't worry Phil, not at all. The guy who got killed was a rapist, had quite the extensive criminal record. He deserved to die.
But then he felt it.
There was a surge of pain, and a surge of emotions. His heart was beating rapidly, but he felt something like a stab in his wrist.
He looked down.
D.H.
On both of his wrists.
It was the first time his dad had to take care of his son, who had his first panic attack.