wizardmanor | Floor 2, Room 4

[ "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)

[Phil's fingers flex, opening and closing tentatively, wanting so much to grasp that hand in return but afraid to do so. If he does, if he lets Day know just how much he needs this kindness... then Day will back away, won't he? And even if Day doesn't back away now, surely he will when he learns the truth.

It's a simple inevitability. He can't hope for anything more than he's being given right now, can't expect this to continue once he's well enough to fake normality once again. Phil is well-versed in pity; it's always the same. But... even so, it's been so long since anyone other than Marcus has reached out to him like this that he can't help but want to hold tight and never let it go for as long as he's granted that opportunity. It's intensely selfish, but Phil has always been a selfish person at heart.

And so, without a word, he allows his hand to curl around Day's and just grips it like a lifeline. Even if it's only for these few moments, he wants to sear this warmth into his memory so that he can remember that it once existed.]

[ Oh, this is...

Day understands wanting to touch and hold someone else—there's a reason he's made some spectacular choices after joining the Division of Serenity that, in hindsight, might have spurred on some of the unsolicited romantic advice and match-making offers from his colleagues. It's reassuring and reaffirming. That you exist in this world and someone wants to grab hold of you and keep you, if only for a little while longer.

And that is why Day lets Phil grasp onto him like a lifeline. He gets it. He even runs his thumb over the back of Phil's hand in what he hopes is a comforting gesture (it was for him, anyway), while his free hand move to brush Phil's hair aside.

...This is probably selfish of him, too. But if he keeps it at just this, then he won't be taking advantage of a sick man, right? ]

[There's the briefest start as that hand brushes his hair aside, his body tensing for just a moment... and then he's relaxing into that touch, taking a few shuddering breaths as he attempts to get his crying under control. It doesn't seem to be working, though, when the gentle contact just makes the tears flow that much harder.

He wants to move his arm. He wants to look right at Day and ask him why he's doing this. But at the same time, that touch is so soft, so gentle that he doesn't want to hear that this is all merely misplaced pity or sympathy, because he wants to be able to believe that there's more to it than just that.

In the depths of his heart, realization dawns slow, a growing knowledge of just why it is that he wants so desperately for his hand to remain entwined with Day's.

Yes, he truly is selfish in all things.]

[ Day at least seems to understand that Phil is crying because he's overwhelmed with emotion, not necessarily because he's upset. Maybe that's why he's so patient as he smooths out Phil's hair and carefully strokes his head, like he figures Phil needs it. ]

...I can stay for as long as you want.

[ Want, not need. Permission granted for Phil to be selfish, since it's not as if Day isn't being selfish either. At least until Day's other obligations need to be handled, like other visits, things to do...

(Right, he was supposed to meet Ginger once he's gotten some rest, but right now Day isn't so sure if that appointment still holds up given how Mika had reacted at the time. He'll just have to trust Ginger on that front.) ]

Edited 2024-06-07 05:19 (UTC)

[As Day strokes his hair, Phil's tears gradually begin to slow, his breathing evening out, although still interspersed with the occasional quiet catch of breath. It's another few long moments before at last he lowers that arm, though he keeps his eyes closed for the time being. Even though the fact that Day hasn't pulled his hand away has given him enough reassurance to stop trying to hide his emotions, he still isn't ready to look at the other man just yet.

What would he see if he were to look, he wonders... but no, deep down he's still the same person who has never had the courage to take action when it comes to matters of the heart.]

... thank you.

[It's all that he trusts himself to say right now, but it's also really the only thing that matters. He appreciates this more than Day will ever know.]

[ It's kind of funny (or it would have been, anyway) that for some reason he knows two people who seem to cry easily here, and they both happen to be Eastern wizards. Day isn't even really thinking when he reaches over with his free hand to wipe at what's left of the tears on Phil's face, as easily as he did it a few weeks ago with someone else. ]

You're welcome. [ His tone is still gentle, and while Phil can't see it, he's also smiling gently. ]

[... oh. Now Phil's eyes do snap open in surprise, and he turns his head to the side to see...

... Day smiling at him with an expression so soft it makes something twist within him. And he stares for a long moment before he even realizes he's staring, the heat in his cheeks now from something other than the fever.

But Day isn't letting go of his hand, and with that realization he shifts just slightly to turn on his side to face him just a little more as he curls into a more comfortable position. Maybe just for now it's all right to trust that hand that's still encircling his with such a gentle warmth...

It isn't long before he begins to drift off, exhausted from the combination of the emotional outburst and his own poor health. And when he finally does? There's the faintest flicker of a smile on his own face as well.]

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