The Basket Fic

When Dan passes in a horrible caraccident, Phil is devastated and gets rid of all Dans things, but a basket. Phil is in need of closure, and buries a cremated Dan in the basket. But Dan isn't completely dead.


1. The Basket Fic

Phil remember the phone call, very clearly. He was making his way, back from a tour to meet up with Dan, when his phone started buzzing. After some time, he picked it up. It was Dan's mom, in tears. Phil tried to comfort her, through her distant cries, until she was able to form a full-word sentence.

It was quick. It hit Phil like a trainwreck, dropped him into a pit, and after a few seconds a river of tears was making it's way down his face, ruining the cat whiskars. He kept sobbing. This wasn't happening. He couldn't be... dead. Phil's boyfriend for the last seven years, gone. They didn't even have time to come out to the world.

When he came home, he tore the entire apartment apart. Dans room, all his things, threw them out. He was only able to regret it when he had gotten rid of the trash for good. Staring there, as the truck drove away. Leaving him. Broken. He opened a bottle of wine, drank it, and dried his mouth in his sleeve. Cried some more, until all emotion was pulled out of him, leaving him only with emptiness.

Not many heard from Phil those days. He answered close to no calls, never left his room, the windows were always covered, and it had been months since he had last showed himself on camera. His friends feared what he might do, and the few that talked to him, noted that he was always drunk and just plain empty. He stopped communicating with the outside world, isolating himself into his own little bottle, with booze and pizza.

They say, it took years, before the basket came. They say that Phil had been out shopping, which he rarely did, and only if absolutely necessary. He felt relieved to look out of his black hoodie. They say, that he didn't even remember his own age, birthday, or maybe he just didn't care. He must have been rocking thirty, because it was a cold november night in 2017. It must have been about 2 AM. Phil never slept much, it was like he stopped needing it, like he could replace it with the regular walking back and forth he always did.

Phil opened a bottle of whiskey. Bottoms up, he said to himself, drinking the entire flask. He didn't notice the sounds. It was a weird sound though. The sound of wood turning and breaking. After getting annoyed, Phil turned around in the darkness. He couldn't see more than a feet from him, the whiskey preventing him to move foreward. He blamed it on his paranoia, and pulled out another bottle.


Phil turned around immediatly, tears in his eyes. Why did it have that voice? He knew it was logical for his inner demons to be... well him, but it still struck him like a lightning. In front of him was a basket. It took only a few seconds for him to recognize it as Dans coffin. He pulled himself back, cringing, and holding on to the wooden table. Tears were stricking his face, but stayed as if scared to leave.

The basket slowly opened. Out peaked Dan eyes, as they adjusted to the darkness for a few seconds, only to focuse directly on Phil immediatly. From looking rather neutral and confused, they raced to judgement and sadness. Disappointment. They focused on the bottle, and went back to looking at Phil, who clinged to the table.

"I never would have guessed"

The voice was loud and clear, nothing that Phil could have imagined. Heck, he didn't even remember Dans voice good enough to play it in his head. Phil hid his head under his hand, blinking uncontrollably. This wasn't happening. He was drunk. That was the only thing it could be. Dan would disappear in the morning, like all the other hallucinations that had haunted him.

Though he wanted to say something. He was not sure what, but something to make the silence disappear, to make the eyes disappear. He reached out for the bottle he had left on the table, when he saw the basket. Desperately he tried to pull off the bottle capsle. Bite it off.

"You miss me Phil... Right?"

Phil nodded quietly, not being able to form words, that didn't turn into a nervous cough. He then realized it. He was crying. Not just kind of teary, rivers of saltwater were making it's way down his face. But he felt nothing. Just the emptiness, the goddamn emptiness, that had pulled him away from everyone. He had just stopped caring. But everytime he heard the voice, something lighted up in him, something he hadn't felt for a long time. And it was in these small lights, the tears had started appearing.

"Listen Phil. If you want me to get out of this basket, you need to feed it"

Phil removed the hands from his face, and stared at Dans eyes. They were so beautiful. He remembered his smile. He remembered everything. He reached a hand out to hug him.


"Sure... yeah" Phil didn't know he was still able to speak, and the words were nothing but a silent cough. But they were words. And Dan heard them. Phil ran to pick up a chair. His muscles were weak, due to the abuse he had been doing to his body. It was amazing he wasn't obese yet. His arms hurted, and his eyes were staring to feel dry. He made his way to the basket "Here you go"

He put down the chair. To this day, he is still confused how it was able to eat the entire chair. He just kept pushing it down, gentle at first, not to hurt Dan, but as Dan told him to go faster, he used whatever little strength he had to push it down. And it was gone. Not smashed somewhere down in the middle of the basket, it had simply disappeared. Dan applauded him. And Phil enjoyed the voice.

He fed all his furniture to the basket, but Dan was never able to leave. Phil felt hopeless. Here, he'd been given a second chance, and he couldn't even save his lover? He asked Dan what he wanted. Dan fell quiet, just staring with the puppy eyes, he were so good at.

"I want life Phil"

Phil hated this part. He tried to only give it people close to death, but it was barely able to use it for anything. He kept telling himself that he were getting rid of the scum of the world. Prostitutes, older ladies, druggies, and thiefs. They all screamed the same though. He remember looking in their eyes. Hearing their screams, feeding them alive. Holy fuck, they were alive.

Phil was crumbling. He couldn't take much more. He spent all his time, talking to this basket. Begging it to let Dan go, offering himself in exchange. In the end, he didn't even know how many he had officially killed.

"Are you ready to make a sacrifice Phil" Dan said.

"I've made lots Dan"

"You need to give me time"

"How do I give you time?"

"You just need a clock. Like... that one"

Dan pointed his eyes at a red clock. Slowly, Phil took it down. A fan had given it to him. It worked fine, even after the five years it had been there. Somehow the clock relaxed him, the feeling of time going. His hands were shaking as he threw the watch down in the basket, not even giving it a look.

Phil was in 2009. He recognized the hair going down to his cheeks. He was 22. He was 22 and in college. In front of him was a camera. The basket stared at him. Back then, he had met Dan. His life had changed.

"I love you" Dan said.

Phils chins were dripping with tears, his hair was wet and sticky. It was almost attached. Phil grabbed around the basket. Atleast he hadn't lost Dan yet.

In this place, there were no escape. Identical walls on all sides, white. The lighting in there was sharp.

"Are you ready?" said Dan.

"For what?"

"You need to sacrifice every living being. Then I will be with you forever. I promise. No more games"

Phil grabbed the globe. He wanted to feel, so bad. He was tired of being empty. He just wanted to be with Dan. The globe was heavy, he had gotten a lot weaker. He stared down at the brown eyes, holding up the globe in front of him. They were begging. He missed Dan. He missed Dan so bad. Slowly he let the globe fade down into the hole, before letting go of it. The basket let out a comfortable grunt, and Phil stared at it, as it spit Dans ashes out.

He then realized. There was no way of getting out, it was all a lie. Dan wasn't alive, and he had killed so many people. Phil dried away his tears and crawled down into the basket.

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