Chapter Text
Dan Howell notoriously does not like to think about the past. There are several reasons for this, most of which he doesn't particularly like to think about either.
Sometimes, though, he can't help it. When the present moment is less than ideal and he doesn't want to let himself hope for the future he's been fantasising about, he's really only left with one other option.
This is how he finds himself boiling to death on the central line in the middle of summer, making his way to a potentially very important meeting, reluctantly reminiscing on what was arguably the worst year of his life so far.
Even with his headphones in, the screeching of the tracks is too loud, grating angrily at the inside of his skull. Despite wearing the least amount of clothes he could get away with for a formal meeting, he still feels like he'll melt into a puddle if he moves too fast. His hands are tucked inside the pockets of his dress trousers to hide how much they're sweating. He's even half debating rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, but after his battle with the iron this morning, he doesn't want to waste the effort.
He stares at a spot on the floor as the doors close and the train lurches forward yet again. He can't help but think about everything that led him to be in this position.
Years of ideas getting so close to becoming reality before being cruelly snatched away right in front of his face. Hours upon hours spent working when he should've been living his life. Sacrifices he had never been prepared to make, but which had ultimately been made for him.
He lets out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, thinking back to the first time he let himself hope for the future of the project that brought him here.
The year was 2019. Him and Phil had both recently come out publicly. Their relationship was going steady. Dan was getting emails and offers left, right, and centre. In a way, it felt like their earlier YouTube years, only with a lot more freedom, a lot more queerness, and a lot less stress.
The future had seemed so bright.
His life's dreams seemed to be coming true right in front of his eyes. He and Phil had been making progress on buying their forever home together. They were both out and proud to the whole world after years of repression and suffering. His next project - a miniseries called Dan Is Not OK - was gearing up to be his biggest and best yet. It all seemed too good to be true.
And then, because the universe has never really liked him much, it all went to shit.
It was manageable at first. Surely a two-week lockdown wouldn't affect his plans too much, right? If anything, it might do him some good. Two whole weeks to sit and work exclusively on the scripts for what was sure to be his magnum opus, without having to worry about all the socialising he tends to avoid at any given opportunity. Maybe this was just what he needed.
Over the course of those two weeks, he spent every free minute he had working on those scripts.
Needless to say, once those fourteen days had passed, the lockdown didn't lift. Two weeks turned into two months, and he found himself still working tirelessly on perfecting his work. He felt himself become more distant, as if he was closed off from the world, but it didn't really matter because the world had completely shut down anyway. So, he kept working.
He kept writing the scripts. He kept bouncing ideas back and forth with an entire team of producers and editors and directors. He kept training for the marathon he had been asked to run for content. He planned around the lockdown restrictions, trying to find ways to make his theoretical stage show viable when no-one could leave the house.
In true Dan style, he kept working and didn't stop until his life blew up in his face.
He sighs. The train pulls into his station. He gets up from his seat and makes his way out of the doors, hands still in his pockets, thumb twisting at the ring on his left hand mindlessly.
He switches lines without much thought. He doesn't need to pay attention anymore. It's a route he must've done a hundred times by now.
He pointedly doesn't let himself think about the old route he and Phil used to take from their apartment together, nor the way it's still engraved into his brain.
Thirty minutes and a small amount of spiralling later, he's walking into the London branch of the Google headquarters.
It's barely been two weeks since he was last here, and all of the posters in the foyer have already been switched out, a series of brand new faces staring down on him as he makes his way to the front desk.
He realises he's running on autopilot while he's speaking to the woman at the reception, and spends the entire lift ride to the YouTube floor trying to snap himself out of it.
The lift pings, and Dan forces himself to take a deep breath as the doors slide open.
The meeting, as he was beginning to suspect it would, went awfully.
He had been given a whole new set of criteria to meet, and he honestly wasn't sure if he could do it. The words "bring back Dan and Phil in 2021" stuck to the walls of his brain, refusing to leave even if he wanted them to. (Which he did. Desperately.)
The moment played over and over in his mind like a broken record. It had honestly felt like a punch to the gut.
Followed by several stab wounds, for good measure.
The last he had heard, YouTube Originals, the company who promised to make all of his dreams come true, had run out of funding for the year. Dan had honestly gone into this meeting thinking that it would just be a formality, a way of letting him know they'd have to put his project on hold yet again until some revenue or a miracle sponsorship came in.
Truth be told, he didn't know what to expect from this meeting. However, he certainly hadn't expected to be asked to feature on an entirely different series alongside his long-term coworker slash kind-of-best-friend-technically-still slash ex-boyfriend slash the-man-he-still-considered-to-be-his-soulmate. (Labels had always been difficult for them. That was one thing that hadn't changed after they broke up.)
And as if that alone wasn't enough, the series they wanted them on was fucking Hometown Showdown. What kind of sick cosmic joke was this? And why did his suffering seem to be the punchline?
He sighs a dramatic sigh as he slumps down onto a bench in Pancras Square, the coffee in his hand coming dangerously close to spilling out of the cheaply made takeaway lid and onto his white shirt, but he couldn't find it within himself to care if it did.
Dan hated returning to Reading at the best of times. Even the more interesting parts of the town were full of memories which were dull or sad at best, genuinely traumatic at worst.
It was inescapable. He'd get off the train at Reading station and get on the bus out to Winnersh. He'd always sit on the top deck. He knew it wasn't logical, but it made him feel that little bit safer in a town where, for him, comfort was few and far between.
Within a minute of the bus moving, he'd be driving past Forbury Gardens and be hit with memories of late nights out with people who weren't ever really his friends. It was far enough away from his house to feel freeing in a way, but close enough for the journey to be doable drunk and alone in the dead of night. The lion seemed to mock him as he drove past, its gaze sticking to his skin and refusing to let go.
He'd pass signs for the university and think of his days in Manchester. He was certain he'd spent more time in Phil's living room playing Mario Kart than he had spent actually attending his lectures.
Memories of Phil would keep him company until he reached the Showcase Cinema and spotted signs for the Park and Ride service. No matter how many years had passed, the familiarity of these landmarks would always evoke a sense of dread deep in his gut, and he was powerless to stop it.
The thought of not only going back to Winnersh, but going back with Phil made his stomach churn uncomfortably. The coffee in his hand suddenly seemed entirely unappealing, but he forced himself to take a sip as he pulled out his phone with his other hand.
It wasn't like Dan had been avoiding Phil. They'd done several joint videos on Phil's channel over the course of the year, and they were technically still renting an apartment together, even if neither of them actually lived there.
(They had referred to it as "the fake apartment" while they had been living in the one directly above it, even if it was very much real. It was essentially a set for their YouTube videos, along with a make-shift gym when necessary, but when they had split up and moved out, they had made the decision to keep that apartment. They both claimed it was so their viewers wouldn't get suspicious when the background of their videos both changed inexplicably at the same time, but they both knew it was also because neither of them wanted to let go of everything they had together. After all, ten years was a long time.)
Still, it takes more scrolling than Dan expected before he reaches Phil's contact in his texts.
hey, he writes. need to talk to you whenever you're free. youtube thing
He hits send without letting himself overthink it, and immediately closes the app and locks his phone.
He sips more of his coffee, trying to pretend he's not hopelessly waiting on a reply like a desperate teenager. He fails spectacularly when his phone chimes and he scrambles to open it like his life depends on it.
Call or in person? The reply reads.
in person. it's kind of a thing Dan types back. He doesn't want to seem too ominous, but he also needs Phil to know he's serious.
The next response takes a while. For a moment, Dan worries he's scared him off, and then his phone pings again.
ok. Tomorrow afternoon at the apartment?
tht works see you then
Dan lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding as he pockets his phone. He downs the rest of his coffee, throwing the empty cup into a rubbish bin as he makes his way back to the tube station. He slips his headphones into his ears and tries not to let himself worry about tomorrow.
As he boards his last train, he's glad to see he's just about avoided the evening rush home, meaning he manages to get a seat for the longest leg of his journey. He pulls out his phone and opens up his notes app, beginning to make a list of everything about the upcoming YouTube feature he'll need to discuss with Phil.
He desperately tries not to notice the girl standing by the door who seems unable to keep her glances at him subtle. He doubts she's a fan of his, because she doesn't seem starstruck or panicked, and she hasn't made any move to approach him. He eventually comes to the conclusion that she must just be judging him - he knows he looks a bit disheveled after the rollercoaster of a day he's had, and it's fair to say that some people on the tube have serious staring problems.
He pointedly keeps his gaze on his phone, acting as casual as possible as he continues to type up his list. Regardless, he's sure his breath of relief must've been audible when the girl gets off the train at the next station.
Within half an hour, he's unlocking the door to his apartment and pushing it open. He's surprised to find the lights on. Had he really been out that long?
He clicks the door closed behind him and drops his bag to the floor.
"You're home late," a voice calls from the kitchen.
"Yeah, sorry," Dan replies, leaning down to untie his dress shoes. "Needed some time to make plans after the meeting today." He slips the shoes off and places them neatly on the rack, picking his bag back up as he heads into the kitchen to greet his boyfriend. Fiancé, now. His brain helpfully supplies.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Henry asks, pulling Dan in for a hug and placing a kiss to the top of his head.
"Honestly, I'm not sure yet," Dan sighs, taking a seat next to Henry. "It's probably going to suck in the moment, but it could lead to some cool things, so... I dunno."
Henry slides his hand into Dan's where it rests in his lap. "I see. 'Could be worse' type of thing?"
"Yeah. Exactly." Dan fiddles with the ring on Henry's hand. He hesitates. His voice comes out as more of a mumble than actual coherent words. "They want me to do more stuff with Phil."
"Speak up, dear."
"They want me to do more stuff with Phil." The silence stretches for a second too long.
Henry sighs. "OK. Do you want to do more with him?"
Dan keeps fiddling with the ring. "I don't know. I guess-"
He's cut off by an obnoxiously loud ringing sound, and suddenly the hand in his is being drawn away in favour of picking up the phone. Henry stands and walks far enough away to be out of earshot as he takes the call, even though they both know Dan knows what's going on.
Less than a minute later, Henry is walking back into the kitchen with a guilty look on his face. "They need me to go back in."
"Okay," Dan moves to stand up. "Do you want me to pack you some dinner? How long do you think they'll keep you?" He starts moving before he even gets an answer, but is stopped in his tracks when Henry steps directly in front of him.
"No, there's no time for that. It's been a really busy day so I can only imagine it's a busy night, too. I have no idea when I'll be back, I'm sorry,"
"Oh, uh, okay." Dan is still busy trying to formulate a sentence while Henry grabs his water bottle and a set of clean scrubs. He stops only to press another kiss to the top of Dan's head. "Have a good-" The door slamming shut cuts his sentence off abruptly. "Shift."
He sighs, getting up to finally change into some comfier clothes. Today had been a long day.