wizardmanor | Floor 2, Room 4

[... oh. Oh no. Did Day have to carry him to his room again? How embarrassing...

Phil bites his lip hard enough that the copper taste in his mouth turns fresh rather than stale and tries to blink back the telltale prickle at the corners of his eyes.]

... I'm sorry. For making you have to do that yet again...

[There's certainly no surprise about the situation in Phil's voice this time, though... odd.]

[ Odd indeed, and Day has noticed. He uses his magic to summon a handkerchief, holding it out to Phil. ]

No need to aplogise. But I do have a question for you.

[It probably would have made much more sense to keep lying down, but no, Phil is going to attempt to lever himself up enough on one arm to take the handkerchief.]

About why I collapsed this time, I'm sure.

[He dabs at his eyes for a moment, sighing.]

I'd been hoping I would be able to get through the mission without having a fit...

I could tell it was something internal, but...it ain't an injury, is it?

[At that, Phil is silent for a moment.]

... did you attempt to heal it?

[Ah, guilt, his old friend.]

You were coughin' up blood.

[ So, yes. ]

That part... doesn't usually happen.

[Except for when he pushes himself far too hard, or in this case, has gone for too long without his medicine.

Now he tries to push himself into a fully sitting position, only to immediately regret it when it makes his head spin. Ugh, he really did a number on himself... in a way it's a good thing that Marcus isn't here to yell at him about it.]

[ "Doesn't usually happen"... Day leans over to try and gently push Phil back into lying down on his bed. ]

Don't force yourself. You sayin' you're sick, Phil?

[And for once, Phil is actually feeling lightheaded enough that even he realizes that he very much needs to be lying down at the moment. There won't be any protest on his end, which might actually be somewhat more alarming than if he'd done his usual insisting that he's just fine.]

... in a manner of speaking. [Here he pauses, shutting his eyes for a moment.] This isn't from anything that happened on the mission, if that's what you're worried about...

[ Oh. Day isn't sure which is worse: Phil insisting he's fine when he's not, or Phil not even trying to this time. ]

What I'm worried 'bout is how to help you with it. [ If it wasn't from the mission, then it's pre-existing. ]

[Suddenly, Phil finds himself very glad that his eyes are closed. No doubt Day is looking at him with that same expression of kind concern that he wore when checking on Phil after he'd collapsed from the memories brought on by the departure of Akira's ghostly visitor. Back then, he'd thought that maybe it was all right to allow himself a tiny bit of that kindness, even if only for a little while. But now?

No. Such a thing isn't meant for someone like him.]

... you can't. It... isn't something that can be fixed.

[And for all he didn't want to see that gentle concern on Day's face, he wants even less to see the slow realization of what Phil means by that spread across it.]

[ ...

Ah. ]

[ He knows Phil isn't looking, but Day tries to school his expression back into something approximating serenity, or at least not look so alarmed by this new revelation. ]

But you weren't this bad when you showed up here. There's gotta be some way to...treat it, right?

[ Even if it can't be fixed. ]

Normally, yes, but... I can't make the medicine here, and I ran out of what I had with me a little while ago.

[He can't open his eyes. He can't look at Day right now.]

... it's all right. I'm not going to die anytime soon even without it.

[A phrase that would likely sound more convincing if the effort of talking didn't bring on another fresh round of coughing....]

[ Don't frown, don't frown, don't frown... ]

Even if you ain't gonna die soon, it can't be comfortable. [ Insistent. ] And I know this sounds weird, but the magic here does...a lot of stuff. Might be able to come up with a substitute.

[Phil is silent for a moment as he tries to get his breathing back under control, swallowing down the taste of copper yet again.]

Haha... I've gotten used to it by now.

[Now he does open his eyes again, though it's to stare up at the ceiling rather than look over at Day. He still isn't ready to do that quite yet...]

I'll be fine once I get some rest. Even without the medicine, the fits like this are only temporary. I just need to make sure not to overexert myself for a while...

[ "I've gotten used to it by now." And Day has to wonder how long Phil has had this. ]

And you sure you that won't happen? [ Him overexerting himself, that is. ] ...What exactly are you sick with, anyway?

[... ah. It's only a natural question to ask in a situation like this, yet it's also one he doesn't even know where to begin trying to answer.

He inhales, then lets it out in a quiet sigh.]

... I suppose I can't lie about this, can I.

[It's a statement rather than a question.]

You could, but I'd be right pissed whenever I find out you did.

[ Day is just saying, plainly. ]

...I just wanna try and see if there's anything that can be done.

That's very kind of you, but...

[And there are the tears threatening to spill. Why hadn't he felt like this when he had told Ix about the seriousness of his condition?

... maybe because some part of him had been expecting Ix to be glad to hear it.]

You don't need to waste your time. Not when I'm not going to live for that much longer.

[For all that it's a fact that he's known and accepted for years, somehow telling Day this much feels like reopening an old wound, and he's not sure whether he's more surprised that it hurts at all or that it had never really healed properly in the first place.]

[ For some reason, the way Phil says it makes Day bristle in a way he so rarely experiences. Day has made smiling at his troubles the axiom of his disposition. There are perhaps only one or two people in this entire manor who have seen him genuinely angry, though unfortunately more who have seen him seriously upset.

This...is not acceptance, or even resignation, that gives resolve or serenity. It is simply the resignation of someone waiting for the appointed hour to come. And that—

That is something Day cannot accept. Even though he knows there's always an ending. ]

It ain't a waste of my time. [ And it comes out more forceful than he intended. ] Even if there's an endin' for you, does the journey there have to be so painful?

["Does the journey there have to be so painful?"

Phil can almost feel his heart constrict in his chest. The words are kind - painfully so - and said with such sincerity, yet without any knowledge of who they're being said to. What right does he, someone who has brought untold suffering to thousands of people, have to desire to not suffer in turn? This is what he deserves. This is what he brought upon himself.

He can deal with that much. But now, to have it hurting yet another person who doesn't deserve the pain at all? It's all wrong.]

You don't... understand...

["I’m not saying this because I want you to forgive me or pity me." Hadn't he said those very words to Ix and meant them? He doesn't need pity or forgiveness for his actions.

All he's ever wanted is...]

I don't. And I prob'ly won't unless you let me, one day.

[ He'll concede to that much. Day doesn't know exactly what life Phil has led, though what little he does know doesn't give him confidence that it's been particularly charmed after a certain point. ]

But even then, I don't want you to suffer. [ The world is already filled with suffering, be it due to the actions of others or the whims of destiny. How can Day simply act as if the one right in front of him doesn't matter? ] And if there's a way to help with your condition, then I...I want you to live.

["You shouldn't," is what Phil wants to say, but he can't get the words out between the choking breaths that are half coughs, half sobs.

It takes a monumental effort for him to move his left arm up enough to cover his eyes with it, hand clenched so tightly into a fist that his knuckles turn white. He doesn't deserve this kindness, and yet it's being offered so freely anyway for reasons he truly can't understand. Even so, there's a part of him that wants to understand, wants to know what Day could possibly see in him that would make him think that Phil's life was somehow worth prolonging, because maybe if he knew that then he would be able to find some reason to believe that his existence has any value beyond what he can do to try to atone for everything that he's done.

Ah, but that too is a luxury he has no right to demand. He knows this, and that knowledge aches even at the same time as he finds he wants it more desperately than he's wanted anything in years.]

[ Phil's reaction is heartbreaking for Day to watch. It tells him that he isn't used to receiving such care, makes him wonder if Phil's received much of it at all, and his heart aches at the idea. Because Day lives by the principle that anyone who desires serenity should have the chance to find it; to deny it is only adding to the suffering the world is already so inundated with. And...

He simply wishes for Phil's happiness. If Phil can find serenity, and that waters joys and love in his heart, then it would be worth it.

(Even if Day has had to rebuild his life over, he can at least say he is still here because of the love he's received. That is his good fortune, despite what destiny had in store for him. Even if it's from people who are now lost to him, and can't truly ever meet again in the same way.)

That may be why he reaches to carefully take Phil's free hand into his, as long as Phil lets him. With his other hand, he reaches up to brush against Phil's clenched fist, as if trying to get his grip to relax. ]

Phil. [ Quietly, ] I don't know what you've been through. But please believe me when I say I want to help you.

[ "I want to love you."

But he will leave that unspoken. It is not his place to say this, here and now. ]

Edited 2024-06-06 08:48 (UTC)

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