A/N: So er, this chapter gets a little bit dark. Sorry about that. Mainly focusing on Phil’s past.

Summary: Dan is an American teenage boy living in San Diego, and does on an exchange field trip to England. But who’s his exchange student? Read on to find out more!

DISCLAIMER: Obviously (and unfortunately) everything I have written is entirely fictional. I am not claiming Phan is real. Contains references to alcoholism.

“PHIL!” I screamed as my eyelids flew open, bathed in a cold sweat. I stared into dark space, my breathing ragged and shaky and my throat sore from screaming.
“Dan? What’s the matter?!” Phil shot up, immediately wrapping an arm around me in an attempt to calm me down.
“Oh, oh thank god, Phil, you’re still here.” I threw my arms around him, embracing him tightly as if I couldn’t bear to let him go.
“Bad dream?” He mumbled, his lips pressing into the crook of my neck. I nodded quickly, trying to slow my breathing down as much as I could.
“I thought you were leaving me here to go back to Manchester without me.” I sobbed at the brutal truth to my nightmare.
Phil gasped, holding me tighter in his arms. “Oh, sweetheart.“ He whispered, my heart leaping at the affectionate nickname. “You know I would never do that.”
I didn’t mean now. I meant in a week’s time.
“But P-Phil…” I stammered, still shaken up. “What about when w-”
“Shh. Talk about this tomorrow, Dan. You need to sleep.” He soothed, moving my pillow up closer until it was directly against his, and pulling me up closer against him.
“You’re okay now though, right? You don‘t want me to go and get you some water or something?” Phil paused, sleepily concerned as I nuzzled into him.
“No, no, Phil. I’m fine. Honestly. It was just a bad dream.” I tried to reassure him, although I myself was unsure. But with Phil’s protectiveness and loving presence, the gentle hum of his breathing right next to me gently lulled me back to sleep.

***
“Dan…” Phil began, stirring his badly-made coffee thoughtfully. We had found ourselves in a strange, desolate Diner in the middle of this scarily unfamiliar town, and I shuffled in my half-broken plastic bench, staring out of the window. He knew I had absolutely no idea what the hell I was going to do now, and I knew that this was where our conversation would be heading.
“No.” I mumbled, frowning as I stirred my tea in sync to him. I knew exactly what he was going to say.
“Look, Dan. You seriously have to think this over properly. You have to go home sometime. All your proper belongings are there, and not just random crap you’ve shoved in a bag because you were angry.”
“I can survive perfectly fine on what I have, Phil.” I responded through gritted teeth. “And I’ve already told you; I’m not going home. I can’t.”
“We’ve already had this discussion this morning.” He rubbed his eyes exhaustedly. “Why not? Why can’t you go home?”
“Eugh!” I grimaced, spitting my tea back into the cup once I realized that I had accidentally ordered it instead of a coffee. I was in such a worked-up state to the point where I had forgotten I had disliked tea. A lot.
“And I’ve already told you why! Didn’t you see what happened? The other night? There’s no way I’m going back to that.” I folded my arms stubbornly, studying Phil’s crystal blue eyes, filled with flickering thoughts.
“You’ll have to overcome it sometime. Look, it won’t be easy, but-”
“My parents don’t give a shit about me!” I exclaimed, slightly too loudly, and received a rather horrified look from the middle aged waitress mopping the floor on the other side of the Diner.
Just, as if on cue, my phone started ringing- again. I pulled it out of my pocket, and was met with a screen flashing up with “65 MISSED CALLS - HOME.”
“Oh yeah, they really don’t give a shit about you at all.” Phil widened his eyes at my phone, sarcastically.
“Th-They’re just… ringing to shout at me for… being..”
I trailed off, my throat suddenly tight as I reflected back on that night. Being rejected by my own father, for being myself. I could try apologizing; for not being as perfect as Adam. I was never the perfect son he always wanted. But, then, he was never the perfect father.
“Dan…” Phil’s voice softened, as he reached out and began gently stroking my hands. I took hold of them, clutching on for support, and to help myself with holding it all together and not breaking down in the middle of this Diner. Even though we were the last ones in here, and had basically spent the whole day here, talking everything over. The waitresses and cleaners must have thought we had gone insane.
“It’s okay for you.” I mumbled bitterly, suddenly letting go of his hands. “You’ve had the perfect family life. You don’t know what it’s like.”
A deadly silence followed after my words.
“Don’t I?” Phil suddenly contradicted, looking up into my own eyes with a completely different light to them.
“….what?“ I shook my head, in soft shock.
“Who was to say I had the perfect life, Dan?” He raised his eyebrows knowingly.
“You’d be surprised. You really don’t know half of what you think you know about me.”
I swallowed nervously at the truth of his words. In reality, we had only known each other for around 3 weeks, despite it feeling longer.
I didn’t know how to feel. In all honesty, I thought I did know everything about Phil. He seemed to perfect to have flaws, and I guess I was so caught up in how wonderful he had seen, that I had been seeing through everything that could have been potentially damaging or negative about his past.
Phil held my gaze, before staring down at the coffee and pushed it away from us.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.” He muttered quietly, refusing to look me in the eye. He tried to stand up to leave, only to be tugged back down silently by me. I made our eyes contact, although that in itself was a pretty hard task after that. He sighed, sitting himself back down again.
“Please…” I pleaded. “Don’t leave.”
“I wasn’t going to.” He bit his lip, deep in thought. “Well, not without you, anyway. Obviously.” He raised an eyebrow.
I took hold of his hands which were, at this point, considerably cold and trembling slightly. “I‘m so sorry.”
Phil stared into silence for so long I was wondering whether he had even heard or understood me, but after a long moment, he broke out of his trance, and gazed back at me, swallowing nervously.
“Don’t be.” He simply mused, breaking the gaze and staring down at the floor again.
The silence was still absolutely unbearable, and I was unable to think of what to do next.
“Phil… would you be comfortable with telling me what’s going on?” I asked softly, scared that I had crossed any lines
“I will. Later.” He mumbled quietly, but surely, relieving me slightly.
“Thank you.” I nodded, before our conversation descended into silence again.

***
“Oh, are you fucking kidding me?!” I shouted as soon as we had flicked the light on to our Motel room, being met with a giant empty space where our TV should have been. Well, it’s not like we ever watched it, anyway.
“What?” Phil walked over to me apprehensively.
“Someone’s fucking stole our TV!” I shook my head exasperatedly, although I was getting slightly worried as to how they managed to get in.
Before I even had time to walk into the room, properly, I noticed another suspiciously empty space where my favourite hoodie should’ve been. The one that cost me over $95.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I groaned. “They’ve taken my hoodie, too!” I slumped on the bed, ignoring the violent squeaking it let out.
“This is unacceptable. We didn‘t pay for this shit.” Phil shook his head, grabbing the phone. “I’m calling the fucking manager!”
“Phil, you don’t ha-”
“Shh.” He pressed his finger to his lips, listening into the receiver. “Yes, can I speak to the manager, please? It’s in regards to half our fucking belongings being stolen from our room.” He escalated his posh British phone voice comically, making me bite my cheeks to stop myself from laughing.
“Yes, hello, Mr. Oakley. I’m just reporting a missing TV, and expensive item of clothing. I-yes, we had our key. No, the lock wasn’t loose.” Was it? He mouthed to me silently, as I shrugged. “Well, we co- what do you mean it’s not your responsibility? You’re the one in charge of this fucking dump! No, it’s not our fault! The key wa- You know what? Fuck this!” He slammed down the phone angrily, muttering to himself as he came to join me on the creaky bed, his head in his hands.
“I can’t deal with this anymore, Dan.“ He groaned, his voice thick as if he was on the verge of tears. And in that moment, I realized how his true vulnerability shone through. He wasn’t as strong, and as independent as I had idolized him as, and I was overcome with the sudden urge to protect him, just like he had done for me.
“Come here.” I held open my arms for him, my heart leaping at the different feeling of him nuzzling his head into my chest, snuggling up beside me for protection. “It’s okay. It’s only a hoodie.” I reassured.
“That’s not the point.” He mumbled.
Seeing him in this state suddenly reminded me of something significant that had happened today, as well. Something that was probably an extremely bad thing to bring up into conversation right now, but I couldn’t help it.
“Phil…?” I began, my heart thudding.
“What?” He turned to face me, his arms wrapping around my waist.
“What were you-… what were you talking about earlier? With the er- family stuff…?” I tried wording it in the best possibly way, although it was majorly difficult for me to do something like this.
Phil hesitated for a moment, and I could almost hear the ticking of his thoughts, accompanied by an uncomfortable swallow. He sat up properly, sighing, and biting his lip.
“Well, you, er- you might as well have the full story, so…” He took my hand again, for what I presumed was for support.
“When I was a child, let’s say, from around 6 or 7 years old, I was… um- I was in a car with my mum, dad and older brother, on the way back from Birmingham to see my Aunt. I think. Anyway, my dad, who was an alcoholic, was driving the car, and as he had been drinking a lot the night before, and on the morning, he was completely drunk. I remember a petrol lorry approaching us with speed as we took a turning down the wrong roundabout, and slammed into our car.” He shuddered at the morbid flashback, hoping I would get the significance without him having to go into any detail.
“Anyway, I don’t remember much else before, or straight after the accident, as I was in a coma for 6 weeks and suffered memory loss. So, that’s really all I do, and will ever remember. My Dad died from the crash.” He swallowed back tears. “But luckily, my mum, brother and I survived.
After the crash, and a lot of court trials, police interviews and funerals, we decided to move all the way up to Manchester from London, for a new start. A place where no-one will know our names. A place as if we could carry on as perfectly normal, without being stopped in the street by a neighbour we only vaguely knew. So that’s exactly what we did.
My mum remarried, meaning my brother and I had to get used to a new dad, although I didn’t remember much at all of my old one. But I do remember that he did used to-… erm…”
“Used to what?” I prompted, my voice thickening.
“He used to abuse my mum and I.” He confessed in a very small voice, tears gathering in his eyes. He pulled up his sleeve, exposing scars and that I had never even noticed at all before. I was completely struck dumb, my voice caught in my throat, and my heart feeling as if it had just been pierced.
“Phil…” I breathed out in shock, refusing to believe that he had been through so much. And it wasn’t even over, yet.
“So, erm…” he was beginning to find it increasingly difficult to talk. ”So, after we moved to Manchester, every night, I used to sit out on the balcony, and stare at the city. Hoping it would jog my mind enough to bring back a few memories. Pretend I was back in London, living a normal life. Like all of my other friends were, who still have no idea about this story.
So… I guess the reason I even came on this Exchange trip, was to broaden my knowledge. To meet new people and hopefully start afresh, and be introduced to new cultures.” He mused almost robotically, although I could tell that was only because he was holding back tears.
“I wanted the other student to educate me on their country. To see if that would bring back anything, if anything. I wanted this to be a serious trip for educational purposes; as a distraction from my home.”
I tried to process what he was getting at, when he suddenly turned to face me, a look of pure genuine expression filling his face.
“But as soon as I met you, Dan, none of that even mattered anymore. I didn’t care whether we were in Manchester, San Diego, or fricking New Zealand. I just want to be spending as much time as I can with you. Because, let me tell you, you’re the only person to know about all of this, and in a way I- I can’t believe I just told you all that. But I trust you.” He whispered.
“P-Phil…” I weakened, my heart beginning to break, and I really wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold myself together.
In a split second, Phil’s strong expression completely fell apart, as he let out the most heartbroken, choking sobs I had ever heard from anyone. He threw himself at me, as I immediately wrapped my arms around his suddenly fragile body, tightening my grip around him and holding him as if I couldn’t bear to let him go.