Not on Fire (Phan AU)

floral and fading

Dan's always liked to think of himself as someone who is indifferent to it all, isolated, and without a care in the world. Except he knows that isn't the case. At least not when it comes to a few people: Louise and his parents (and well, possibly Phil but he really doesn't want to think about that right now). But that doesn't mean that he doesn't wish he could be indifferent, isolated, and without a care when it comes to them sometimes. Take right now, for example: in a few minutes, Louise is going to come over and he's going to have to listen to her act like she's never done anything wrong and it's all Dan's fault, which he can handle most of the time--and he does--but he knows he shouldn't have to. Which only makes it more complicated because even though he knows it, whenever he hangs out with her or talks to her, he caves for some unknown reason and forgets it all. It's not like she's his only friend anymore, hasn't been for a lot longer than he's been willing to admit.

Of course, making up with her will have it's benefits. She's been his voice of reason--his conscience, if you will--for so long, and while he doesn't always listen to her (okay, he rarely does these days) it's nice to have someone there for him who will explain right from wrong, a concept he gets but easily forgets about.

However, if he makes up with her, she'll just be as pushy as ever, never listening to what he has to say, always insisting she knows best. He's put up with that for too long and he's tired of it. That's what got them in this mess in the first place, but if he just says sorry without waiting for her to say it, it's all going to be a waste.

He's sitting on the couch in the living room. His parent's are out shopping. He had begged to go with, something that had caught them off guard for approximately two seconds before they remembered that Louise was supposed to come over so they could "talk things out." It's times like these that he wishes he hadn't tried to rebuild their relationship. Before, he wouldn't have told them about his problems with Louise and he wouldn't have mentioned her coming over, no matter what the occasion.

The sound of knocking cuts through the silence and his thoughts. He gets up, but hesitates right before he reaches the door, his hand outstretched and ready to grab the knob and twist. It would be so much easier if he just pushed this off or just forgot about it forever, but he's smart enough to know that, in the end, it wouldn't make him happy. Louise has been his friend for so long, and if he's willing to change, then he's sure she will be, too.

With that in mind, he opens the door, putting on a small--hopefully welcoming--smile, somewhat wishing that it had the power to cut the tension that formed immediately after he opened the door.

He's never been that good at talking to people, a product of him insisting that he interact with as few people as possible, but it's never been that bad with Louise before. In fact, he's not sure if there ever was a moment like this, even when they were first just becoming friends because of Louise's welcoming disposition.

"Hi," he says, moving over to let her in. He closes the door behind her and watches for a second as she kicks off her shoes. Neither of them talk for a second, leaving the awkwardness in the room to reach new heights.

"I'm really glad you decided to give Phil a chance. I knew you'd come around," Louise says, turning to flash a large smile at Dan before walking into the living room and taking a seat. "And I knew you would see that everything I do is for the best."

Immediately, he feels like saying something, or rather, yelling something, but if there's ever been a time to practice self control, it's now.

"Yeah . . . about that," he mumbles, taking a seat next to her. "Look, I'm glad that you pushed me to give Phil a chance--and then another and another and another. It's just, you aren't my mother and you don't get to boss me around. f*****g hell, my own mother doesn't even do that. The point is, I meant it when I blew up at you for always insisting that you know what's best for me. It's my own life and I should be able to live it how I want to. You're always asking me to change, and right now, I'm asking for you to do the same."

Louise shakes her head for a second, something Dan notices from out of the corner of his eye. They aren't facing each other. Instead, they're facing the television, which is off.

"I only ask you to change because you didn't realize that you've gone way too far, and I don't understand why you're mad at me when I was right about Phil--you guys make great friends."

This is what he had been afraid of. Once again, to her, she's not in the wrong; Dan is. God forbid she ever do something that goes "way too far." Why is it that she can so easily see all of Dan's faults, yet be so blind to hers at the same time? She's like a parent in that aspect--always quick to get on the kid for doing something they shouldn't and then turn around and do something they shouldn't.

Knowing that what will happen if he doesn't, he takes a few deep breaths before responding to her. "I'm asking you to change because you've gone way too f*****g far. This has nothing to do with how many times you've been right. I always listen to what you have to say, why can't you do the same for me?"

"Oh, you hardly listen at first. Don't act like you don't like to start fights sometimes before finally agreeing with me," she rebuts.

"It doesn't matter. I always listen to you, regardless if I do it at first or not. And I'm just asking you to do the same thing and you're not even listening to the question."

Louise huffs and for a second, there's silence.

Dan's mind is racing a little too much for him to focus on one single thought, but he does know one thing: he's already said sorry and he isn't going to say it again unless she says it first.

"Fine. What do you have to say?"

For a second, it feels like a trap, like he'll start talking only to be drowned out by her screaming as she storms out and insists that she's done with him. He's not convinced that it's not, but he can't just turn down potentially the only opportunity he's going to get to say how he feels.

However, now that he has the chance, the words are lost in his throat. He hadn't really planned ahead this far, assuming it would take a lot more fighting before she even considered letting him speak, so what he would say when it finally happened was not his top priority.

He can tell she's getting impatient the more time he wastes trying to string together a sentence, but he chooses to ignore it, looking anywhere and everywhere except at her. His eyes latch onto the bookshelf, which just happens to be covered in photos, a few of which are Dan and Louise. Of course that has to be the one thing that catches his attention. The closest photo of them just happens to be from the summer, when Louise had come along to Adventureland. In it, Louise has her arm around Dan's shoulders, a bright smile on her face, while Dan's frowning--annoyed by the hot sun and all of the people running around, screaming and just generally be loud. But he still had a great time, even with his parents trying to be cool, because Louise was there, too keep him from actually yelling at everyone who dared pass by him.

"I don't want you think I don't love you, because I do. You're my best friend, and I don't know what I'd do without you. But that doesn't mean that you can push me around and expect me to just live with it. I want to be your friend, but I don't want to be your kid. You aren't my mother, and you shouldn't act like it. Typically, I come around eventually because you do have a good point, but it's my life and I need to be able to live it like how I want to and if that means I make mistakes along the way, so be it," Dan says, the words rushing out of his mouth so fast he's worried he's going to have to repeat himself. "Do you understand?"

"Do you understand that I'm just trying to help you?"

"I do and that's why I'm telling you I'm not your kid. It's okay if you want to give me your advice or opinion every once in awhile, but you shouldn't force me to do what you believe I should," he answers, turning to look at her for the first time they sat down. She has tears in her eyes, and Dan's never seen her cry before. Just looking at her, he starts to tear up, too. It almost feels like one of those goodbye talks, or maybe one of those break up speeches, where the couple has no other choice because one's going off to war.

It would be easier if it was one of those, but it's not. They aren't saying goodbye for a while because one of them is moving away, and they aren't breaking up--they've never been together. This is the middle of it all, not the end, and they're going to work through this if it's the last thing they do. At least, that's what Dan would like to think.

"I didn't even realize. I've just always wanted someone to look after me that I never even realized I had crossed a line, and I'm sorry. But you can't just expect me to change like that."

"And I don't. Even though you always expected me to change right after you said something, I won't do the same thing to you"--it's rude, Dan knows, and they're working through their issues, so he really shouldn't be mean, but he can't help but throw one last punch--"as long as you promise to try to stop being so demanding. It might take a while but trying is what counts. But just like you made sure I really was giving Phil a chance, I'm going to make sure you're actually really trying."

"I think I can live with that," Louise says, smiling through her tears, and opening her arms wide open for a hug. Dan leans in and wraps his arms around her.

He's never been one for physical contact, but just this once, it feels nice to be held as the last few tears fall from his eyes.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."