Soft crackling from the loudspeaker echoed over platform 3 of London's Euston Station as a monotone voice announced that the six o'clock train to Manchester Piccadilly would be boarding in ten minutes. A plethora of people were waiting near the tracks, some sitting impatiently amongst the cold gray benches, some lingering to bid farewell to their friends and loved ones. However, Dan and Phil required a slightly less conspicuous area to say their goodbyes before Phil's departure to the North, namely a small stockroom in the back of Boot's pharmacy.
"I promise," Phil murmured between kisses on Dan's cheeks, eyelids, forehead, and mouth, "I'll try to call you on Skype anytime I get the chance."
Dan leaned away and shook his head. "Phil, you know you won't be able to get a decent Internet connection up there. Besides, it's your cousin's wedding. You'll be spending most of the weekend awkwardly interacting with your weird relatives."
"Well, I can at least try to phone you or send a text now and then."
"Honestly, Phil, it's fine. I can survive three days in the apartment on my own without you checking up on me. I'm not that codependent."
Phil's brow furrowed in concern. There was a tinge of bitterness in Dan's voice that Phil often heard when something was troubling the younger boy that he didn't want to talk about. "Is everything okay, Bear?"
"No- I mean, yes," Dan muttered, "It's fine, I just," he swallowed and shut his eyes tightly, "I didn't want to worry you."
Phil could feel the tension radiating from Dan's body with the two of them pressed together in a small space. He linked his arms around Dan's middle and let the boy lean against him. "Please, Dan," he said softly. "Tell me what's wrong."
Dan was silent for a moment and simply let the older boy hold him. Then he exhaled slowly and whispered, "Someone posted it again."
Now it was Phil's turn to tense up. A small bubble of panic rose in his chest, but he tried to remain calm for Dan's sake. "I'll get it taken down."
Dan sighed wearily. "What's the point? This keeps happening over and over no matter how hard we try to stop it, so why bother?"
It broke Phil's heart to hear Dan sound so discouraged, his energetic warrior admitting defeat. When the leak first happened and their world was thrown into chaos, it was Dan who took control of the situation, explaining away everyone's proofs and theories and trying to deflect as much attention from their private lives as possible. Even though arguably it did more harm than good, Phil couldn't help but adore the fact that Dan had a tendency to become the snarkiest bastard on the planet when trying to shield the people he loved. Of course there were days when Dan felt overwhelmed by it all, the constant spiral of lies and half-truths and playing off everything as a joke even when he was dying inside, but Phil was always there to wrap Dan in his arms and remind him of the truth, because that's the way it worked with them. Dan protected Phil, and Phil protected Dan from himself.
"I'm sorry, Bear."
Dan shrugged but held on tighter. "It's just harder to deal with when you're not around, because I used to be able to watch it whenever we were apart to make myself feel better, but now..." Dan sniffled as Phil gently stroked his back. "Now I can't even see a screenshot from it without cringing, and it's just... really depressing being constantly reminded of how the Internet managed to ruin the most beautiful thing anyone's ever done for me."
At this, Phil's throat tightened. He wished they were both at home cuddled up in bed instead of standing in this godforsaken storage cupboard right before he had to leave. He didn't have long, and there was no magical combination of words he could say to make everything all better. Still, he had to try.
Nudging his nose against Dan's cheek, Phil spoke softly into his ear and said, "A lot of good things have come from us sharing bits of our lives with the Internet, and some really awful things have happened as well. At the end of the day, though, what matters most is who we choose to share our whole lives with. And Dan," Phil reached up and cupped Dan's face in both hands, "You are my whole life."
Dan stared back at him, those wide brown eyes brimming with too many emotions to read all at once. Then he rested he forehead against Phil's, and for a moment they were both able to shut out the rest of the world. For that one small moment all that mattered was intertwining arms and intermingling breaths, soft touches and kisses and unspoken exchanges of "I love you." At some point, however, the moment had to end.
"Phil, you need to get going," Dan muttered, pulling away reluctantly. "The train's gonna leave without you if you keep snogging me any longer."
Phil tugged him back for one more tender kiss. "I know. I just need you to promise me something."
Dan huffed slightly. "What?"
"Be good to yourself," Phil whispered, his mercurial eyes searching Dan's face. "Please?"
Unable to hide anything under that gaze, Dan smiled sadly and whispered, "I'll try."
***
The lampposts had flickered on when Dan stepped back out into the wintry streets of London. He dramatically pulled up the hood of his dementor coat before making his way towards the queue of double decker busses and boarding the one that would return him to an empty apartment. His grim-reaper-esque appearance may have disturbed some of the other passengers, but Dan avoided making eye contact with anyone as he make his way to the back and found a seat in an empty row. Thankfully, no one took the seat next to him.
The fluorescent lights overheard illuminated the dark windows, but Dan pressed his forehead against the cold glass and stared at passing cars just to avoid looking at his reflection. He reached into his pocket for his phone and found that his earbuds were already plugged into it. He'd been listening to some Ludovico Einaudi earlier, but he put settings on shuffle and skipped to the next song.
In hindsight that was probably a mistake.
After a diverse mix of rap, generic pop, and classical music, he heard the first few notes of a song he hadn't listened to in years. Staring down at his phone in disbelief he read the title of a song from the Final Fantasy VII soundtrack.
"Fuck," Dan muttered under his breath. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to press the skip button. Glancing around nervously, Dan hunched down in his seat as far as he could. God knows what people would think if they saw the weirdo in the back of the bus crying his eyes out.
With a bit of trepidation, Dan took a few deep breaths and let the soft, lighthearted melody wash over him. It had been nearly six years now, but his mind still automatically linked each chord with an image of 2010 Phil in his old bedroom speaking softly in a thick northern accent, speaking to himand only him. It was as if the memory was playing like a filmstrip in the back of his mind. A lump formed in his throat and his eyes stung, but he let it happen. He let himself remember what it was like back when he was a sad, awkward, affection-starved teenager watching this for the first time with his heart fit to explode in his chest because he'd never felt so loved in all his life.
He made that for me. No one else. Just me.
The bus screeched to a halt and jolted Dan out of his reverie just in time for him to notice that they were at his stop. He hastened to put away his phone and earbuds and then stood up a bit awkwardly to exit the vehicle. It was a bit of a walk back to the apartment, and his body was near frozen by the time he made it to the front step. Strangely enough, though, there was small ember of warmth glowing in his chest. He could only hope as hung up his coat and headed towards the kitchen to make a mug of hot chocolate that this little warm glow would last a while longer before the dark void of loneliness settled in its place.
It didn't last long at all.
The fact that the kitchen light was on should have tipped him off. At first Dan thought he must have left it on when he went with Phil to the train station, but it was more likely that the switch had been flipped by one of the four men that were standing in the kitchen. There was a gun pointed at Dan's face, and suddenly everything felt cold.
"Hello, Danny boy," said the stranger holding the gun. "Nice of you to finally join us."
Dan stood stock still as his heart pounded in his ears. Everything about this picture felt wrong. Clearly these men had broken in, but why? If they'd come here to steal something, they would have taken it and left by now. Instead they had been standing there for God knows how long waiting for him.
The guy who apparently considered himself in charge was shorter than the others, but he wore a haughty expression on his generically handsome normie face. The tallest stood behind him. He had long, stringy, black hair and looked like he worked in the dark basement of some tech company. The third intruder was blonde and blue-eyed with a muscular build like the type of athletic frat-boy typically featured on college brochures. The last one had an equally intimidating physique, though he appeared older and more heavy-set, and his mouth was twisted in a sadistic grin.
It seemed strange that this assortment of people would form a group, and stranger still that they would decide to band together to seek out this apartment. They knew his name, and they'd no doubt gone to a lot of trouble to find where he lived. The question remained, why? What did they want from him? After living through secondary school surrounded by verbally and physically abusive classmates, Dan recognized the look in their eyes, a look that said that they wanted to hurt him, yet something told him that they weren't interested in just beating him up.
A bit too late, Dan took a few unsteady steps backward. All his instincts were telling him to run, but he was trapped. In his panic, he didn't detect the movements of the heavy-set intruder until the man was behind him crushing Dan in a tight grip.
"Not trying to make a run for it, are you Daniel?" the man breathed in his ear menacingly. "We can't have that."
The leader stepped closer, motioning towards the rectangular lump in Dan's pocket. Consequently, one of the thick arms entwined around Dan's torso moved, and a hand delved roughly into his pocket and dug out Dan's phone. The leader seized the device and smashed it against the grainy tile. Completely immobilized, Dan gave a startled jump at the sound of shattering glass, and his sense of utter helplessness intensified.
"Sorry. Necessary precaution," the leader said carelessly, "We wouldn't want anyone to interrupt our little session, now would we?" He redirected the gun to point at Dan's face again. "I suppose you could say we're big fans of yours. Not that we spend much time on YouTube. Our interests lie in a much darker corner of the web, but it's amazing how the Internet can bring people together when they have a mutual obsession," he lowered the gun slightly and reached up with his other hand to grip Dan's chin, "and for a while now our main obsession has been you."
The bruising grip changed to a caress, and that's when Dan flinched. He heard a dark, mirthless chuckle before the hand returned, this time with a sharp slap. Pain exploded across Dan's cheek, but before he could catch his breath, the nauseating monologue continued.
"You're such a tease Dan Howell. Shameless sluts like you need to be taught a lesson. Surely you can't expect to get away with flaunting that body on camera for all the world to see. Not without someone like us giving you exactly what you're asking for."
A viscous shove from the intruder behind him forced Dan to fall hard on all fours. His hands and knees throbbed from the impact, and he was growing dizzy from the tremendous effort his heart and lungs were making to flood his body with enough oxygen to fight or run away. Of course both options would likely end with a bullet in his skull.
The leader handed the gun over to Tech Guy. "Now enough chit-chat. Let's see if you can put that pretty mouth to good use."
Dan squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of the man's dark blue jeans being unzipped. It had been several years since he'd been in this vulnerable position, kneeling at eye-level with unfamiliar male genitals. All those times before he had gotten into that position willingly, either driven by curiosity or a desperate need to feel wanted. This was different. He wasn't being given a choice.
I didn't ask for this. I don't want it. Please, just leave me alone. I don't want it.
His head was roughly yanked back by a hand in his hair, forcing Dan to look up at the leader, who was lazily stroking his half-erect penis. Dazed from panic and nausea, Dan couldn't think. The silent void in his mind was deafening, save for a small voice in the back of his head, some sort of guide for his survival instincts that had been programmed into him after being threatened with bodily harm so often growing up. Don't talk back. Don't fight back. Keep still and quiet, or they'll just hurt you more.
Dan stared ahead blankly and allowed his lips to part as the leader finally invaded his mouth with a harsh thrust. They each took their turn, filling the kitchen with obscene moans and occasionally slinging some unimaginative variation of "slut" or "whore" or "bitch" while they violated him. It didn't take long before Dan's knees ached and his jaw was sore and his throat felt raw and bloody. Somehow the pain didn't seem to fully register in his mind as if it had become detached from what was happening to his body. Then he heard one of them say something that brought reality sharply into focus.
"Damn, you're good at that. It's a shame Phil gets to keep you all to himself. Maybe he wouldn't mind sharing once in a while."
Oh god, Phil, Dan thought numbly. How was he supposed to tell Phil what happened to him?
Dan gagged and shuddered as the last one finished, but he swallowed reflexively to avoid choking. As soon as he heard the sound of a zipper closing once more, he hunched forward and gasped for breath. He was dangerously close to throwing up or passing out. It's over, he told himself as the air stung his throat. They're going to leave soon. They've gotten what they wanted. It's over.
"I think that's enough for now," the leader's voice chimed. "Let's give him a little break. After all, we have the rest of the weekend."
It took a while for those words to really hit him. It was as if he had been falling for so long that he hadn't realized how far he'd fallen until he crashed to the ground. Dan's heart rate quickened as he heard footsteps drawing near him. A hand tangled in his hair and yanked back his head again.
Don't talk back, or they'll hurt you more.
The leader's face loomed in front of him, leering maniacally.
Don't fight back, or they'll kill you.
"Are you going to be a good boy for us, Daniel?"
I don't care.
Even though the pain was excruciating, Dan hocked back as much saliva as he could and spat in the man's face, and with all the strength he had left, Dan rasped out in a horse voice, "Fuck you."
The man stood frozen and stared at Dan for a long time. In one deliberately slow movement he wiped off his cheek. Then he smiled.
"This is going to be even more fun than I thought it would be."
Quick as a flash, Dan felt a blinding pain across his forehead as the man struck him with the barrel of the gun. That shiny piece of metal was the last thing Dan saw before the merciful darkness stole him away.