Not on Fire (Phan AU)

forever

Dan's always found fire fascinating, the way it consumes something and leaves nothing left but ashes. More than that, however, he finds the end result intriguing because once something is burned, there's no going back, no reconstruction that can fix it, no new coat of paint that can hide the damage. A lot of things are permanent, but none of them are nearly as interesting as what a fire does to a place, what it takes away forever.

Right now, he needs the comfort of knowing something in the world really is forever, even if it isn't life or happiness, and in all reality, he's never been a big fan of those anyway. Between struggling to please his parents, Louise, and stay on Phil's good side long enough to be able to say he's officially given him a chance, he doesn't know how he's managed to stay afloat for so long. With his parents, their concern is understandable, and the same can be said about Louise to a certain degree, but lately, her caring nature, if you could even call it that, has been more suffocating and demanding than what Dan signed up for. Phil, on the other hand, isn't a bad person at all, which is why Dan is so reluctant to befriend him; it's easy being with Louise because she likes fixing people, but he wasn't lying when he said he doesn't do friends, and he definitely doesn't want to drag Phil in to his mess (though he does fear it is too late to worry about that).

It's no wonder why he decides to go visit the swing--the first big thing he ever burned down, the start to it all--when it feels like his whole world is crumbling around him. Hopefully, it will give him the motivation to keep swimming until he reaches the end (because honestly, motivation for him is fleeting, which is why he sat down to write and never got past the second sentence, even though he truly did--and still does--want to write something in an attempt to let his feelings out).

The moment his eyes meet the spot where the swing should be, he's overcome with a sense of melancholy that borders on nostalgia. It's not a feeling he can easily describe, but it feels like he should be swinging on a swing right now--one that, naturally, isn't there because he burned it down late last year--looking back on his early childhood into his young teens, but this isn't a scene out of movie, even if it does feel like one. With no swing to sit on, he climbs on top of the playground and sits with his feet dangling down the slide. No one comes here anyway, and the structure is probably too weak for his weight, letting him know by groaning with each tiny movement he makes. For some reason, the moment feels right.

He's constantly questioning his actions, wondering if it's all worth it in the end, but it's moments like these that make him remember why he started setting fires in the first place. It truly does relax him, and the swirling shades of red and orange are perfect and distracting him from his everyday problems. On top of it all, it's not like he's burning down anything of importance; in fact, he's practically helping everybody out by getting rid of run down buildings, unlike the arsonist that's always shown on television--the person who burns down buildings with people inside. He's an asshole for sure, but he's not a bad guy.

Naturally, as soon as he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it, Phil shows up, wearing a space coat that would look dorky on literally everybody else except him and a hesitant smile. With his hands awkwardly in the pockets of his black skinny jeans, he walks over until he's standing off to the side of the slide, as close to being in front of Dan as he can get.

"You know," he says apprehensively, each word coming out on its own breath, "you really shouldn't smoke."

"I know." Dan laughs, moving the stick away from his lips long enough for him to blow out the smoke before bringing it right back to suck on it some more. "But I don't give a shit."

For a moment, it's like the life has been sucked out of Phil, his face frozen in surprise and his body as stiff as a statue, but it's gone as soon as it comes, washed away by a small frown.

"I'm sure your parents care and Louise, and I know I do."

"You really shouldn't." Dan tilts his head up to look at the gloomy sky. It's been dark and dreary all day, fog blocking the sun. It only adds to the somber mood of it all, and Dan almost feels like laughing.

"Why?" Phil's voice comes out genuinely curious, as if he hasn't noticed how much of a jerk Dan is, which is impossible, because Dan has not tried to hide it in the least bit. Instead, he's been open about it, flaunting it even, just to get Phil to leave, but clearly, that hasn't worked out yet.

"Because I don't deserve it."

"I know you think you're horrible, but I don't. Sure, you're not always the nicest person." Phil laughs as if this is some sort of joke, but Dan's not sure he understands. "But you clearly care about Louise, which is why you're always trying to keep her happy. Right? And you may be mean to your parents, but I'm sure you still say I love you to them because you'd feel guilty if you didn't."

Dan's face says it all--Phil's hit the nail on the head. A scowl blossoms across his face to hide his true feelings, but it's already too late. Phil's nothing if not observant, and no doubt, he's already seen how his words have affected Dan.

"No," he says forcefully, words cold like ice and sharp as a knife. "Don't pretend like you know me any better than I know myself."

"I'm not trying to pretend like anything. All I'm saying is that I truly believe that there is good inside you."

Instead of responding, he takes a moment to look out at the empty area of the park where the swing should be, trying to find the calm it provided him moments before, but it's hard to find solace in something most people find dangerous when he's standing next to someone so innocent to the world.

"You shouldn't."

Dan looks at Phil out of the corner of his eye, but his face is blank, void of any emotion, as he watches Phil breathe in slowly.

"I should probably get going," Phil whispers quietly, voice just loud enough to be heard from where Dan's sitting, and takes a few steps forward before turning his head around. His eyes burn holes into Dan, but he does little to react. Instead, he keeps his stare just as sharp and powerful, until Phil finally leaves, with heavy footsteps and a dejected look on his face.

Dan's heart aches for a few, moments that are filled with guilt before he realizes he's doing what's best for Phil. He's already given him multiple chances, and each time, Phil's proven that, if Dan were somebody else, they would make great friends, but to let Phil into the mess that is his life would be selfish and messed up. All he has to do is remind himself that what he's doing is for the best to get the ache to fade into a mild annoyance.

***

"You promised me you would give him a chance," Louise says. Her voice is calm, but there is a warning her eyes that doesn't go unnoticed by Dan. She places her hand on her hip, daring him to argue, and for once, he doesn't give in. She's not angry yet; at least, Dan doesn't think she is, but one wrong step and she will be. He just doesn't care.

She had come over shortly after he got home from looking at the swing, and with a guilty conscience on his mind, she had taken advantage of his vulnerability and he gave in, telling her what happened with Phil an hour before.

"I've given him multiple f*****g chances, and you know what? It's really f****d up that you want me to use him. Like imagine how he would feel if he found out I only hung out with him to get you off my back!" he shouts, leaving out the fact that Phil already knows. He's bottled up too much anger recently, having been unable to release it his normal way, and now it's all spilling out, erupting uncontrollably from within him.

Naturally, however, Louise doesn't see his words as a fight, but rather, she looks at the double meaning. She takes her hand off her hip and drops it back down to her side as a smile grows on her face.

"I knew you liked him!" she squeals.

"No, I don't have to like him to not want to mess with his feelings."

"Dan, don't forget that I know you, and the Dan I know doesn't care about anybody's feelings if he doesn't at least like this somewhat."

She walks closer to him, but he pulls away. Why had he put up with her for so long? He's only been hanging out with Phil for a short time, but he's already started to realize that his friendship with Louise isn't healthy at all. She's too forceful and dominant, leaving Dan to back down to please her and avoid conflict, sacrificing himself in the process, but Phil recognizes his boundaries and still manages to show he cares. Dan's no baby; he may not be the biggest fan of taking charge and making important decisions, but he's a senior in high school after all. Sure, he likes having a friend who can help him along the way, but Louise isn't helping anymore--she's taking over.

"I think maybe we should hang out another time. I'm not in the mood right now," he says, looking down at his feet.

"Don't be like that. I only want what's best for you, and you need some other friends. You can't live your life all by yourself."

"I can live my life however I want to, and right now, I don't want to do it with you."

"Fine, but just know that I care about you," she says before turning around and walking away, slamming the door to his bedroom shut behind her.

Dan wants to shout that he knows she cares, that she just needs to find a different way to show it, but he's tired of being the one to apologize whenever they have a fight. If she wants him to know that she cares, she needs to start proving it by swallowing her pride for just one second.

He crashes on his bed as soon as he's sure she's gone. He just can't seem to get it right today.

Since when was his life so messed up? The obvious answer might be that he f****d it all up when he caved in and started setting fires, but that wouldn't be the correct answer. The truth is that his life has been f****d up for a while now, and he only seems to know how to dig a deeper hole instead of working to get himself out. While he doesn't plan to give up on setting fires any time soon as it does help to keep him sane, he does want to work on bettering himself, and maybe--just maybe--then he'll be the type of guy that would make a good friend for Phil.

For a second, the work in front of him seems too much for one person, but it's only going to grow if he puts off doing it.

He's been promising to Louise that he would try harder with his parents, but he has never been motivated to do it. While her support was nice, what he truly needed what support from himself, something that Louise could never give him, but now, he's ready to support himself. After all, the first step to becoming a better person is fixing his broken relationship with his parents.

And maybe, instead of bottling up his emotions whenever he can't find a convenient time to set a fire, he could write, like he's wanted to do for the past week or so. That way, he doesn't explode like he just did on Louise (even though that was a long time coming).

Just thinking about it is making him feel lighter; hopefully, his motivation won't leave him like it does for everything else.