Chapter Text
Waking up beside a stranger wasn't something Dan usually did. At first he didn't even realize that he wasn't at his own bed. He blinked a few times before he sat up straight, panic rising through his body and waking him up effectively.
Staring at the furniture around him he tried to remember the night before, but not a single detail came back to him.
A look to his right made him gasp and clasp a hand over his mouth to shut himself up. There was a freaking man in bed with him. All he could see was a mob of black hair and broad, bare shoulders but he could tell that he had never met this person before.
And he was most likely the owner of this bed.
Dan had to bite his tongue to keep himself from swearing as he climbed out of bed as quiet as possible. To his relief he found his clothes right beside the bed on the ground. His guts burned at the possible ways they may have ended there. He didn't really feel or see any aftereffects of sex, which made the whole situation even weirder.
He took one last look at the stranger. He was hugging his pillow and buried his face halfway, though he looked nice. The room looked nice, too. Dan felt like he would take a lot of these decorations into his own home right away.
He shook his head lightly. There was a strong curiosity about the stranger and how he got him into his bed, but at the same time the possibility of him waking up and spotting Dan freaked him out, so he left the flat as quickly as he could without making a sound.
As he stepped outside he allowed himself to breath. Looking up and down the street, he had absolutely no idea where he was. He ruffled his hair, trying to remember anything, but his brain was just a massive gaping hole.
He took another deep breath. While he tried to rearrange his hair, his thought floated back to the stranger, and his face grew warm.
For the last few years he had always hoped for an opportunity to act like he truly wanted – to hook up with a guy without the judging reactions of his family and friends. Maybe the night before had been something like that. And he had lost all memory of it and since he hadn't even left a note, he'd most likely never see this guy again. He groaned in frustration and started roaming his pockets. The results were his mobile, keys, a few bills, his ID and a folded piece of paper. “What the blazing fuck is this...” he breathed as he unfolded what looked like a letter. The paper was worn and looked used and old. He recognized his own handwriting. Maybe his drunk self had written it, but then again, the handwriting looked way to neat for that.
“Dear Dan,
when you are reading this, try not to stand on the middle of the road, that would be helpful since this letter is quite disturbing and a bit long too. You might ask yourself where you are. The answer is: 89 Clarence Gardens, London.”
“London!!?” he called out in disbelieve. How did he end up so many miles from home. He looked around but there was nothing to find orientation. He looked back onto the paper.
“That is, if you are not too far away from your flat yet. You don't remember any of it because you are are having amnesia. Every night your brain forgets everything from the day before. (I just had to learn this myself this morning. Apparently like every morning for the last 2 years.)”
Dans knees gave out. He stumbled backwards against the stairs and his bum hurt like hell, but he couldn't tear away the eyes from the words before him. His eyes burned as he forgot how to blink.
“Maybe you saw someone when you woke up – that was Phil. He's actually your boyfriend. I know it sounds strange, but he is trying to be helpful.”
Dan had to stop reading again and blinked towards the sky. This had to be some cruel joke right? Did someone set him up? Some rape drug, some preparing would be all it takes. He refused to look at the letter again and held to it with an iron grip as he power walked down the road. There was more written down, but he wasn't ready for it. He spotted a kiosk in the distance and jogged towards it. Catching his breath, he scanned the newspapers.
“No.. no no no..”
He was absolutely sure that it was the 20th May of 2011. But every paper in front of him told him a date in 2015. Not 2011. He almost choked and sat down on the pavement. Didn't the letter say two years?!
His eyes went back to the letter, but it took him a few seconds until he could focus on the words again.
“Boyfriend.. no way..” he repeated slowly.
“If you have questions Phil will help you. If you don't feel like going back you can also call Dr. Marten Stevens, he's in charge for you. His number is in your phone, but in case you lost that, it's 02078628000. ”
Dan had to put the letter down and breath. His own heartbeat was thundering in his ears and he felt faint. How did this make any sense? After a long moment of breathing, his heartbeat slowed down.
He had amnesia and started every day like this? A shudder went down his spine. His eyes returned to the letter.
“Phil number is also in your phone and a set of keys to is in your pocket. (If Phil didn't screw up packing them.) Please don't try to call your parents. Calm down. I hope this letter helps you. Please go talk to someone now.”
He turned the page, but there was nothing more. He grit his teeth. The letter didn't offer any comfort. “Fuck you.” he told the letter, which remained silent. Calling the doctor would be a better proof, but with a sick feeling in his stomach he started going back where he was coming from.
-
The fucking door bell nameplate read “Phil Lester” and right below “Dan Howell”.
It looked cute and domestic and Dan hated it. It was in a font that Dan really liked but didn't remember telling anyone ever, because really, who told each other their favorite font type of all things. And who the hell would do such an afford just for a doorbell nameplate.
To be fair he had been standing in front of the door for more than a few minutes and his mind was running out of distractions. Taking a deep breath for what felt like the twentieth time, he moved to unlock the door.
The key fit perfectly and the door slit open. After a few unsure steps into the flat he thought he'd never see again, Dan cleared his throat and let the door fall closed. He almost had a heart attack as a head popped around the corner and two big blue eyes looked at him, slightly surprised, before a big smile spread across that face and the head disappeared again. “Follow me, the kitchen is over here!” Utterly confused about the casual tone, Dan followed the voice warily and stepped into a small kitchen. It was just as homely and welcoming as the rest of the flat that he'd seen yet.
The former stranger was busy on the coffee maker. He was smaller than him, but tall nonetheless. He was wearing a Tshirt and loose Pyjamapants. Overall he just looked totally harmless. Dan felt lost. How was he supposed to react to this? Thankfully this Phil didn't seem to mind. He looked totally calm and he turned towards Dan an took a few steps towards him.
“I am Phil.” he said lightly and offered his hand. Dan stared at him but took the hand nonetheless. Phils reaction was a immediate smile. His accent sounded faintly northern.
“Would you like some coffee?"
"Ehm yes.. thank you.." he replied unsure. He really was awake enough but if he refused, he really wouldn't know what to do next.Phil just smiled at the sound of his voice and Dan felt his cheeks going aflame. This bloke just acted like there was nothing unusual going on at all.
"It's alright, just have a seat." He turned his back on him and returned to the coffee machine. "You are earlier back than usual." he dropped casually.
Dans stomach turned upside down. He gladly dropped himself on one of the chairs around a small dining table, even if a part of him felt like running away altogether again. Rubbing his face with his hands he tried to calm himself down. His fingertips had started to feel numb and a steady feeling of nausea as welling um inside him now that his initial adrenaline rush was wearing down. He tired to blink and focus. There really was no use to loose his shit now. First, he needed more details.
A cup was put down in front of him and he looked up. Phil had taken the seat opposite from him and was looking at him expectantly.
Dan looked at him for a few seconds, unsure how to start. It was oblivious that Phil was waiting for questions and he had a ton, he just had to find a point to start. Was there any point at being polite at this point?
“How is my family? Are they okay?”
“Yes, everyone is fine. You mom called a few days ago. They are all doing great.”
Dan nodded, his stomach nowhere less queasy than before. He felt like he had to ask about them first, but he really just wanted to know what happened to cause this mess.
He avoided the eye contact as he pulled out the worn piece of paper he had read a billion times by now and held it up.
“This isn't making any sense. It says I've had amnesia since two years, but the last.. the last date I can remember is four years ago.” he pressed on, his voice tight. He took a shaky breath and let the paper fall to the table, wrapping his arms around himself.
Phil nodded and placed his cup on the table.
“You had an accident that caused the
memory
loss
two years ago. When you came to, you had lost all memory of the prior twenty months.” he explained in a calm tone.
Dan dared to look up at him.
“What kind of accident?”
“Car accident, you were taking a taxi. You took a bad hit to the head and passed out for a few days.”
Dan laughed bitterly. “Oh course that had to happen to me, sounds pathetic really..”
Phil gave a quiet huff and Dan looked up. Did he really just do that? Snort at him? Embarrassment over his own statement washed over him, but now that he took a good look at Phil, he wasn't looking pitying or taunting at all. His anger subsided as fast as it had risen.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to sound like I'm making fun of your situation.” Phil apologized in a low tone. “It's just that of course it wasn't meant to happen to you. Nobody deserves that.”
“So why are you here? Nobody deserves to take care of a mental cripple.” Dan asked, daring a more challenging tone.
Phil raised his eyebrows, clearly unimpressed. He even smiled a little.
“I've never read that letter you wrote there, but from past experiences I'd say you introduced me as your boyfriend.” He raised his cup and took a sip.
Dan felt a little nervous but asked anyway.
“So, are you my boyfriend?”
Phil smiled a little more. Dan got a feeling that this was one of his favorite everyday-questions, although he didn't really get why – it was painfully awkward to him.
“Technically no.”
Dans mouth fell open and he felt a little disappointed.
“Why did I write it then? Is this some sick manipulation?”
Phil laughed, clearly embarrassed, with his eyes closed shut and color rising to his cheeks.
“No. We were dating before your accident. Technically, since you can't remember agreeing to it, that relationship isn't valid anymore.” Phil smiled warmly at him. Dan just looked at him, speechless.
“So you are saying we.. were a couple. And then I went and forgot about you.”
Phils eyes widened a little, before he gave his embarrassed laugh again and pulled his cup closer to himself.
“Sorry, it's funny because you usually don't think that far ahead this early. But don't worry about that.” he leaned back a little. “You see, for the last months we've been trying to make your mornings as easy as possible. I used to introduce myself as your best friend, but every time you found out about our time as a couple.. well, you didn't take it well. You said it sounded like I stopped.. seeing you that way because of your condition. And that's not the case. So you went and wrote that letter.”
Dan swallowed thickly. He looked down at the paper again.
“So I wake up every morning, thinking I've had a blackout after a one night stand and creeping outside, just to find out all of this.”
Phil nodded.
“And this is a easy morning?”
Phil sighed a little.
“I think it's the best one so far. Because you see, you sneak out every time. And once you are outside, you have time to consider the situation and can decide for your own if you want to come back.”
Dan starred at Phil for long seconds.
“I sneaked out every day? For weeks now? Really?” It just sounded so absolutely bizarre.
What he did not see coming was Phil visibly turning bright red in front of him.
“Almost every morning, yes.”
“Oh my god. No, please. Don't tell me I've done anything else.. ”
“Calm down, Dan, nothing bad ever happened.” Phil said and looked away.
Dan let out a sigh and turned silent. He wasn't ready to process any of it. His eyes fell back onto that paper on the table.
“The part with the years is really confusing.”
“Then maybe write it over?”
Dan remained silent as realization dawned to him.
“So I can read it.. tomorrow..?”
For the first time he was aware of a detail that had escaped him so far. When he was going to wake up the next day, he'd have no memory of what happenend. Again.
It was enough to make the first tear fall. He really didn't want to cry, but it washed over him before he could even fight against it. Straightfaced, he leaned forward until his forehead touched the table. A hand was placed on the back of his head, unmoving, and a sob rattled though him.
If this was an alright morning, he didn't want to live though a bad one.
But Phil stayed and remained silent until his shoulders stopped shaking, which was kind of alright at least.