it rained on the day phil got back.

fall was arriving, and the seasons liked to present themselves strongly where they lived. dan liked the rain, though. he liked the way it felt on his skin, pattering against his head, making his hair fall in his eyes in long curly strands.

elias called him that morning, letting him know that phil would be getting home. dan's heart burst and he couldn't stop smiling all morning. he got dressed quickly in a sweater he knew phil liked and his favorite skirt, sneaking an umbrella from his fathers study and making his way over to phil's house.

phil's parents greeted him with donuts and hot chocolate, insisting he sit by the fire and dry off. dan was bouncing the whole time, his whole body flowing with warm adrenaline and joy.

he hadn't properly understood how much phil really meant to him until he had left.

finally howard pulled back from the window, which was streaked with rain drops, beaming in dan's direction.

"he's here."

dan brightened instantly, jumping up so quickly that he felt lightheaded and he nearly toppled over like a chair missing a leg. elias laughed at him.

dan rushed to the window, his heart racing, pounding against his ribs. what would phil do when he saw him? would he be as happy as dan was? would he kiss him? the thought brought blood to dan's cheeks and he flushed pink.

the blue bus pulled up outside the house, and the doors slid open. the side of the vehicle was decorated with words like fun! and friendship! and happiness!, which dan found ironic considering the camp had stollen those things from him.

dan saw movement as someone came down the steps, and they hopped down, their feet splashing in a puddle at their feet.

but... that wasn't phil.

technically it was, dan could see it in his shape and the way the figure held himself, but... it wasn't him. he didn't have a smile on his face, he had a frown, he looked almost tense. he looked up, his icy eyes searching the terrain, holding up a hand to shield himself from the frigid rain.

his hair was black. that was half of the reason dan didn't recognize him. his hair was pitch black, hanging in his eyes, water dripping from his eyelashes.

dan heard someone suck in a sharp breath next to him, presumably howard. so they hadn't known, either.

dan blinked, stepping back from the glass that was slightly foggy from his breath, confused and a little scared. why wouldn't phil be happy to be home?

phil made his way to his front door, taking his time. dan frowned, shaking.

the door swung open, and the boy closed it behind him before even looking inside. the room was silent for a long moment.

"phil," elias said finally, clearly only trying to break the tension, but it didn't work. dan felt like he was drowning.

"hi," phil answered, pushing his hands into his pockets, but not before dan noticed he was shaking too. maybe he was cold.

howard cleared his throat, clearly trying to get his bearings. "you dyed your hair?"

phil turned his icy gaze on his father, nodding stiffly. "yeah. a kid offered to do it. i like it."

howard stammered for a moment. "did y-you think to ask your parents first?"

phil looked at him directly. "no."

dan felt like crying. who was this? where had his best friend gone? he had waited so long to reunite with the one person he truly loved, and he was gone. this wasn't phil.

finally phil noticed him, looking at him, but dan wished he hadn't. his eyes were cold. "why are you here?"

in his struggle not to burst into tears, dan whimpered softly, tugging at a curl on his head. "i... i j-just wanted to see you..."

phil's frown deepened. "you aren't a part of my family, don't act like you are."

"phil!" howie barked, clearly horrified. phil shrugged, glaring at him.

"what? he isn't!"

dan let out another soft, squeaky sound, hiding his face in his hands. when he felt like he could even move he whirled around, running to the kitchen and out the back door despite the calling of his name that followed him, the words clinging to his ankles, trying to reel him back.

he ran home as quick as he could on shaky legs, closing the door harder than he had meant to. he burst into shaky, painful sobs, sliding down the door. his father shouted at him to shut up, but he couldn't. he couldn't stop.

he hid in his arms, hugging his knees to his chest, the ugly sobs coming harder. had he lost him for good?

just as dan had stopped crying, almost twenty minutes later, someone knocked on the door. he knew he would get in trouble if he didn't answer it, so he forced himself to get up, trembling heavily. he opened the door slowly, sniffling.

he almost started crying again when he saw phil, a hood pulled over his hair to protect from the rain, a black umbrella clutched in his slim hands. dan's lip trembled.

"hey." phil sounded reluctant, and he reached up to push some black hair away from his eyes. the dark color almost illuminated them, made them seem even more blue.

"h-h-hi."

phil sucked on his lower lip, dragging it between his teeth. "here. you left this." he held out the umbrella, and dan took it with a shaking hand.

"t-thank you."

phil nodded, sighing, his gaze falling to his feet. "hey, um... my parents made me come over here to apologize."

dan's heart ached. "okay, i-i..."

"but," phil interrupted, continuing. "it... it really is nice to see you, dan."

relief washed over him a little too hard, like a wave that crashes against the rocks roughly enough to dislodge them. he whimpered, his face crumpling.

"it's n-nice to see you too..."

phil paused awkwardly before leaning in, pulling dan into his arms. dan almost instantly disintegrated, wrapping around him tightly and sobbing against his chest. he felt phil took a deep breath, and run his fingers through dan's hair surprisingly gently.

"i m-missed you so much," dan whispered, sniffling softly and breathing in the way phil smelled, like cologne and rain, soaking it in. phil sighed, staying quiet for a bit too long.

"i missed you too."

dan knew what he was doing; he was throwing him a bone. at the moment dan was incredibly grateful, happy for any proof he wasn't gone completely.

but really, leading people on is far worse than just leaving. and it hurts so much more.

-

what's up chumps