It had almost been two weeks since the last one, and he knew it was time. Honestly, it worked like clockwork at this point. Phil reacting to Dan's existential crises was like Louise helping Zoe with her panic attacks- it was second nature. And now, at three am in the morning, Phil could feel his best-friend-protocols kicking in as he listened to Dan pacing up and down in his bedroom.

Phil didn't even sigh as he rolled out of bed. He'd stopped doing that two years ago. Now he knew better, just like he knew how much Dan had come to rely on him in these situations. Of course Dan would never admit it. He would just nod and maybe every once in a while give a tiny, grateful smile. That was enough for Phil.

He knocked on the door softly. He received no answer, as per usual. He opened the door slowly and saw Dan still pacing and now mumbling under his breath about something. Phil could feel his heart frowning as he watched his best friend going through this almost ritual agony. Knowing that he would continue to be ignored, Phil walked over to Dan's cd collection and picked up one labeled "Calming Music". After popping it in and starting a soothing track, he slipped away to the kitchen to make two cups of tea. One was chamomile and the other was lavender. Since Dan frequently switched back and forth between the different calming teas, Phil always made both so his friend could have his pick.

Finally, on his way back to Dan's room, Phil stopped by the lounge to get a blanket. Honestly, it should have been thrown out months ago, but it was the one that always helped during these times, and Phil couldn't bear to break Dan's heart that way. Blanket tossed over his shoulder and mugs in his hands, Phil made his way back toward Dan. By this time, his best friend had settled down on the floor in a little ball. His arms were wrapped around his legs and his face was hidden in his knees.

After putting the mugs on the desk, Phil gently placed the blanket over Dan's shoulders. He took the mugs into his hands again before he settled down on the floor in front of Dan. "Lavender or chamomile?" he asked quietly as to not startle him.

"Lavender," the shaking man in front of him mumbled, but did not make a move to uncurl out of his position.

Phil bumped his friend's shoulder lightly with the requested mug of tea. "Come on now, Daniel. You have to get your head up to drink your tea," he reminded soothingly.

Dan's head slowly came up from his knees. His watery eyes looked miserable, and his nose was red and sniffling. Without a word, he reached forward for the mug and began to sip on it slowly. For a few minutes, they simply sat there, sipping on their tea and listening to the music play. After a while, Dan began to relax, and Phil could tell that he was ready to talk.

"Do you ever think about the fact that death is inevitable?" Dan asked in a small voice. "Like, one day, randomly, one of us could be in an accident or something else horrible happen. What would the other one of us do? Or what if it happens after I get married? What if I have kids that I leave behind? How would my wife go on? Would she get over it and marry someone else? Would everyone just forget about me? And what about when they're all dead, too, and my name will just fade away and no one will ever remember me. I'll join the billions of other people that we've never heard of, never even thought of. What if-"

And on and on he continued. Phil sat there patiently and listened as his best friend rambled on about death and life and what it all meant and his regrets about not living life to the fullest. Several times he wanted to interject, but he knew better. No matter how comforting he could make his words, they wouldn't have any effect on Dan when he was like this. They would just be words, vowels and consonants and sounds, without any meaning.

At least thirty minutes later, Dan fell quiet once more. He stared down at his now cold mug of tea and idly played with the fringe of the blanket. When he hadn't said anything for a few minutes, Phil knew it was now his turn.

"I do think about those things sometimes," he started. "I think everyone does. We all wonder about what could happen versus what will happen. That's one of the things about life is we can't always control what will happen, but we can try to make it better." Phil paused, looking closely to try to tell if Dan was listening or not. When Dan gave a little nod to confirm his unspoken question, Phil smiled and continued.

"We all have regrets- things we wish we could go back and change. Like my haircut from two years ago," Phil joked. A tiny, almost invisible upward quirk touched Dan's lips at this comment. "But we have to keep going. Not everything is going to be okay all the time, but that's what makes the good times better, yeah?"

Dan slowly nodded his head in agreement. Phil took in a deep breath and went on. "And to be honest, I think about the other stuff all the time," he admitted. Phil's best friend tilted his head, confused. "About getting married and whatnot," Phil clarified. "I mean, I'm five years older than you, meaning that I've had five more years to get a girlfriend, and I still haven't succeeded. I know the right girl is out there, but I guess I just hope it's everything I think it will be. Like The Fault in Our Stars, but without the cancer and dying."

Dan couldn't help but chuckle at that, and Phil laughed quietly with him, knowing that his plan was working. Now, as the clock showed that it was nearly five am, Dan's eyes were finally starting to droop. Phil took the mug out of Dan's nearly limp hands and put it on the desk next to his.

He stood up and gently shook Dan's shoulders. "Come on, Daniel. It's time to get to bed," he whispered. Not having the strength to protest, Dan nodded sleepily and let Phil help him up and into his bed.

Just as Phil had turned off the lights and was about to leave, he heard a weak voice say "wait". He looked back and saw Dan all snuggled up in his duvet with a sheepish look on his face.

"I just wanted to say thanks," he mumbled, embarrassed. "I never say thanks, and I should have. You're a really good friend…" he trailed off. Phil smiled as he watched Dan struggling to stay awake.

"You're welcome," Phil replied with a smile. "Now go to sleep."

Phil began to shut the door softly, laughing to himself when he heard Dan murmur, "Don't tell me what to do, idiot,".

As someone who struggles with anxiety, this is kind of like my thank you to all of those who have been there for me during my panic attacks. Even though I sometimes forget to say it out loud, your efforts to help me mean the world to me.