☾ ☽

"can you make me a flower?" lola blinked at him curiously. dan shook his head in a childish way, his hair falling around his face. she looked disappointed.

"why not?"

"because."

lola pouted, crossing her arms and stomping her foot on dan's dusty front step. "fine." she frowned. "if you won't make me a flower, will you make some for my mother? for mother's day?"

dan's eyes widened when he realized that she thought it was her he couldn't make a flower for.

"no, i can't-! i can't make anybody a flower. it hurts!"

"it hurts?" she scooted closer, her head tilting to the side. "to make them?"

dan shook his head again. "no. to pick them." he crossed his arms, mimicking lola. "and jarvis says i can't grow too many. he said they'll grow in my heart and fill up my lungs, and then i won't be able to breathe anymore."

her eyes widened. "and you'll die?"

dan nodded matter-of-factly. he widened his eyes at her dramatically. "you don't want me to die, do you?"

"no!" her voice was loud and she nearly jumped on him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. "i don't want you to die."

dan rolled his eyes as she let out a soft sob, rubbing her back. "i'm not gonna die."

"good."

she squeezed him, kissing his shoulder. dan beamed.

"you aren't going anywhere, are you, dan?"

dan hugged her back, tugging at one of her dark braids.

"nowhere. are you?"

she shook her head. "never ever."

dan opened his eyes, gasping for breath, but it didn't feel like they were open. the room was completely dark. he blinked to make sure he hadn't gone blind. he didn't think he had - he was just in an incredibly dark place.

he frowned, groaning softly. his head was pounding painfully at the same pace as his heart. he sat up, gasping when he realized he couldn't move his arms. he investigated slowly, shifting his hand carefully to the other, getting a feel of what was trapping him.

chains.

he was chained to the ground, or maybe the wall. either way, he could hardly move. dan whimpered. where the hell was he?

he shifted his feet, his eyes widening when he realized they were in the boots again. not the same ones, surely, but they were similar.

he couldn't remember anything. had he been knocked out? drugged? he could remember the man, though, standing on eliza's doorstep. he squinted, trying to recall what he looked like, when a door on the other side of the room swung open, blinding him temporarily.

dan blinked, slowly letting his eyes get accustomed to the light shining through the door now. bright white light. it hurt his eyes even when he was used to it.

the man who was standing in the doorway stepped forward, and dan gasped.

he was so stupid. how had he not seen this coming?

➸

phil was frantic.

they were in a taxi, and he was shaking. full on trembling. his chest hurt, ached like hell.

he couldn't look out the widow. he was too dizzy.

and he was repeating the words my fault my fault my fault over and over again.

eliza reached out to touch him, and he shifted away.

"phil..." her voice broke. phil knew she had been crying, but he couldn't have cared less right then. "it isn't your fault."

his eyes flashed, and he turned on her. "you're right," he hissed. "it's your fault." he turned away again. "it's both of our faults."

"i'm not the one who broke his heart," she snapped, and phil flinched. he heard her sigh, and saw her tugging on her ponytail out of the corner of his eye. "i'm sorry... i'm really stressed, i-"

"yeah, well i'm not the one who sold out one of my best friends," phil blurted, his tone vicious. "i didn't give them to someone planning to hurt them, for whatever reason, for money. and you'd better pray to god that dan is okay, eliza, because i swear to god if he isn't, i will kill you."

the car was silent, the conversation over. phil sighed, resting his head against the glass. he had a pounding headache.

he just wanted his baby back.

➸

"i don't think there's anything here," eliza muttered, flipping through papers on jarvis's desk. she was clearly grumpy, but phil didn't pay her any mind. he didn't care how she felt. not anymore.

"keep looking," he called back, pushing books out of the way.

one of the books fell to the floor with a thud. phil leaned over to pick it up, and noticed something. he frowned.

in between the papers was a file.

phil pulled it out, his curiosity getting the best of him.

he nearly dropped it.

the file was on pink tinted paper, and on the front, a picture of dan was paper clipped to the card paper. he looked about five, his hair messy. he was beaming, looking somewhere that wasn't the camera, a daisy in his hair.

"eliza," phil breathed, opening it. "come here."

he heard her next to him, but didn't look up. the file had pages and pages of writing, some typed out and some handwritten, there were even some child's drawings. phil was in awe.

he swung his bag around to stuff the papers in it, when it hit another large book, that fell to the floor as well. papers scattered over the floor, and phil gasped. more pictures of dan, more writing.

eliza crouched, picking one of them up and examining it. over her shoulder, phil could read one thing.

daniel j. howell - ages 13-14.

phil grabbed the one he had just been looking at, searching for the same writing. sure enough -

daniel j. howell - ages 4-6.

phil didn't exactly understand, but he knew he had found something. he fit as many papers as he could in his shoulder bag, until he couldn't carry any more.

"let's go," he muttered to eliza, turning and nearly running right into a tall man, dressed all in black. his eyes widened, and he stepped back.

the man laughed cruelly.

"you two. come with me."