This was originally going to be carried on, but I sort of like it as a friendship one-shot so I'm gonna leave it that way. There will be more stuff later on:) Thanks for reading!

Phil's fingers tighten reflexively around the controller at the sound of footsteps behind him. A glance over his shoulder confirms his suspicions: Dan. He turns back to the TV, only half paying attention.

Dan says nothing, fumbling around the kitchen for breakfast materials. Phil hears the soft rushing sound of crumbs tumbling into an empty bowl and pauses the game in anticipation of Dan's breakdown. Phil leaving a box of crumbs always ends with Dan throwing an empty cardboard box at his head or being otherwise violent. Today, however, Dan only stares at the box. He holds it in between his hands, considering it carefully like it purposefully decided that on this very day it would be empty just to spite him. And then Dan sets the box on the counter, empties the crumbs in the bin and retreats to his room.

Phil is officially concerned.

Three days ago, something happened to Dan. He had been on a date with a girl named Lola, whom he had fancied for awhile. Phil could always base how serious Dan was about a girl by how many times he changed his shirt. For Lola, he reached his all time record of 5 before finally settling on the horrid cat shirt. He said it was because Lola liked cats. Phil didn't have the heart to tell him that his logic, in this case, was flawed.

He had returned at a quarter after midnight and walked directly to his bedroom where he stayed for the next 24 hours, not even leaving to get food. Phil suspected he sustained himself solely on Maltesers. Phil had, of course, asked Dan what had happened, but Dan was unresponsive.

For the following 2 days, Dan only spoke when spoken to, wearing the same pair of black sweatpants and his house shirts; loosely fitted t-shirts in solid colors that made his frame look small. Phil found himself growing increasingly worried. The cereal box this morning had been a test.

Phil turns off his game and heads to Dan's bedroom.

"Dan?" he calls, knocking lightly on the door. No answer. Phil tries to open it but, unsurprisingly, it's locked. "C'mon, Dan. Open the door." Without warning, Phil's brain does that thing where it suddenly and with completely no warning comes up with a horrible thought. Like when you're alone, outside, in the dark and you suddenly remember horror movie scenes. At this particular moment, Phil remembers a fanfiction written about himself and Dan where Dan kills himself in his room while Phil sits obliviously behind the adjoining wall, powerless to stop it. Phil's heart rate picks up. He begins to hammer at the door. "If you don't open your door right now, I swear to God I will call Lola and ask her what happened."

The effect is almost immediate. "You wouldn't," Phil hears through the door.

"I would and you know it." There's a moment of silence before Phil hears the quiet click of Dan's door unlocking, then opening. Dan crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm worried about you," Phil says without preamble.

"I'm fine," Dan says. The circles under his eyes tell a different story.

"No. You're not." Phil lets his words hang in the air between them. Dan can see the absolute lack of doubt in Phil's eyes. He is Dan's closest friend and one of the only people in this entire world that Dan trusts completely. Dan takes in a breath. Holds it. Lets it out.

"You're right," he whispers. "I'm not." And then he begins to talk. "You know how I told you Lola and I were going on a date?" he asks. Phil nods. "That was only partially true. She didn't really know it was a date. So she brought her fiancé." Phil feels his eyes widen.

"But…what?"

"She's engaged. She's 22, engaged and I'm as alone as ever." Phil feels his eyebrows furrow. Dan's…lonely? For some reason, Phil can't grasp that concept. Dan is so outgoing, so instantaneously likeable to anyone he meets. He has thousands of people constantly seeking approval from him and yet…he was lonely. But Phil could understand this, because there were times when he too was lonely.

"You're only 21, Dan. You're life is hardly over."

"I know." Dan runs his fingers through his hair, an action performed only when he was truly worried. "I know," he says again. "I guess I'm afraid of the day when I wake up and realize my life has passed without me realizing it. And I'm afraid that on that day, I'll be alone." Phil doesn't know what to say to this. It's like he's staring right into the part of Dan that he keeps most hidden, and it feels wrong. Or maybe it feels so wrong because Phil sees the same fears mirrored in himself.

"Me too," Phil whispers simply. "But locking yourself in your room isn't helping anything. Besides, if you don't tweet something, and soon, I'm pretty sure your danosaurs are going to place a missing persons report on you." Dan's lips twitch up in a smile.

"I'm going to shower first. I expect a new box of Shreddies to be waiting for me when I'm done." Phil feels a smile slip onto his own face.

"I wasn't going to say anything, mate, but you are starting to smell." Dan rolls his eyes and closes the door in Phil's face. And just like that, things went back to normal.