Phillip Hughes, M.D, S.J. (fidesetratio) wrote in whatprice, @ 2009-05-24 23:03:00 |
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I don't know how to quit you
Who: Samrat Amarnath and Phillip Hughes
When: Sunday 17 May 2009, BACKDATED
Where:Church of the Immaculate Confession, Mayfair, London
What:Even Muslims go to confession or the only safe spot for them to chat. Sam seeks Phil's counsel, and Phil manages not to break down.
Rating/Status: G/PG? - Complete.
The hush. That was what Samrat felt first when he entered the drawn
lines of the neo-gothic church, his shoulders tense after he
had stepped into
its body. A strange sense of foreignness filtered through him as he
walked through its distance, his footsteps echoing to the high
ceilings. He was no longer a man of any god and here, where he could
feel reverence static in the air, he felt it most strongly.
Windows surrounded him, colored light trickling through stories that
he had never heard, and he walked quietly through the reflection of
those stories until he found the room at the back of the church that
he had been told to
look for, sliding inside and taking the empty chair.
"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned," It was all that he knew of a
confession.
Phillip reached out and placed his hand on Sam's leg, causing him
to look up.
"Whatever it is, I will always forgive you."
"I know," he said quietly, taking the other man's hand for a moment.
"I am not looking for absolution but advice. This simply seemed the
best avenue for us both, in order for me to seek it."
"It is possibly the safest," Phil said with a worried smile, squeezing
Sam's hand.
"What is it?"
"My brother is involved in something that... in one respect, I think
may not be a bad thing to do but in another... I just do not know."
His fingers tangled in Phil's, the look on his face equally anxious.
"For once, however, the people involved are willing." His mouth
quirked, a sardonic smile teasing his mouth.
Phillip found himself rubbing his thumb over the back of Sam's hand
for comfort, feeling the other man's palatable anxiety.
"Out with it, then, what is he up to now?"
Phil didn't particularly care for Majd anymore than the Christian
notion of brotherly love required and he worried about the effect of
Majd on Samrat.
"He wants..." and the words became whisper. "To determine whether it
is possible to give magic to us. To make all peoples magic. He
believes that it will equalize the situation."
"I don't think so. Not yet at least."
Phillip paused, knowing he was about to break confidentiality of
work again.
"There have been attempts made to remove magic - at least, studying
the theory. If we could harness the power and use it to fight illness,
it would be incredible, of course, but wouldn't that be playing God?
My job told someone they removed the magic - but it was a lie. As of
yet, it has not been done. But if you can give it, there must be a way
to take it away. I can't help thinking there must be a reason not all
of us have it."
"I do not know." Samrat shook his head. "But there is something to
the thought of it that appeals to me. I would like to think that we
could make all people equal in all ways. I suppose, also, there is
another concern - he will do this badly, if he continues to do it
alone, and I do not know how to force his hand." He had killed one
brother - he was reluctant to see the fates take Majd. It was not
something he felt that he could voice to Phillip, yet he looked to
him, hoping for some resolute understanding.
"I would rather him do it supervised than not."
There was no mistaking the short list of candidates for supervision
that Phillip was proposing - either Sam or himself.
"They want me to study magical medicine. I find it fascinating, of
course - the theory suggests they can regrow bones even - but it is a
foreign ability and no amount of study will lead to mastery."
"I do not even know if it is possible." Sam's eyes met Phillip's.
"But if it was, there would be no need to hunt them. Do you
understand what I mean?"
"I do. But then someone may hunt you for trying to equalize the field.
They don't view them as human," Phillip said quietly.
"And how do you feel about it?"
"I see them as humans just like us - every living creature testifies
to the goodness of God," Phillip admitted.
"I believe they ought to be treated with love and respect."
"Do you think, then, that that can be accomplished as long as there is
that difference?" He looked away, his stance betraying his
uncertainty.
Phillip sighed.
"I don't know. I would hope it could be. After all, it cannot be a
recent development, I don't think. In some form it must have always
existed, yes? But then, I think there will always be inequality and
discrimination. Even when all is equal, humans will create
inequalities. All are equal, but some are more equal than others.
Maybe I'm being cynical, but it won't stop me from working to correct
it. I worry about the cost of human life, morality, and sanity
involved."
"In what sense?" Samrat knew that he shouldn't press Phillip for the
answer to his own confusion but he could see a path now forming. He
simply did not know if it was the same that Phillip was intimating.
"I... I want to be a doctor again, Phillip. Perhaps that is why I
told him I would even consider it. These people - they are willing -
and the cause, I am not entirely sure that I disagree."
"You have always been a doctor, Samrat. No board could ever take that
away from you."
Phillip sighed.
"I've only seen the standard of one side where they do not care about
the lives they are ruining in an attempt to get their answers and
accomplish their goals. The hippocratic oath means little there. I do
not know if there is another, better way to go about it, but I hope
there is."
It was not an answer. Perhaps, Sam thought, there was no answer
to be had.
"If I was to do this thing that Majd wants," he said directly, "What
would come of it?"
"I honestly don't know. I have studied bloodwork, cell structure,
nerves, I haven't been able to isolate it," Phillip admitted.
"But if we worked together?"
"The world would be a scary place," Phillip teased instinctively
before meeting Samrat's eyes.
"In all seriousness, I don't know. It should theoretically be
possible. I mean, the differences in medical theory alone make me
think that it can be controlled somehow. I just don't know on what
level - whether we're dealing with something in the blood I haven't
found or the genes themselves."
He squeezed Sam's hand.
"I'd never turn down the opportunity to work with you."
"I think that this is something that we should do," he said slowly.
"But I am afraid of what it will mean, to the relationships that I am
building among people who have these abilities. At the same time,
however, what if we can achieve this? What other good might we
achieve?" His fingers were tightening around Phil's, finding comfort
within.
"They told us right before ordination that when you are given the
power to represent God, you can also represent the devil. I would
advise caution. We can do much good, but also much evil," Phillip said
quietly.
"Is that a no?" Sam's voice echoed in the empty room.
"No, it's not a no. It's a yes with caution."
Relief shuddered through his body as he released the breath he had not
even known he was holding. He could not agree to this without Phil's
consent. Samrat knew that now as he hadn't when he asked the
question. This was a question not only of medicine, but of ethics.
The other man was not only friend, but conscience.
"What problem does this present in terms of your other work?" He
remained deliberately vague.
Phillip laughed.
"Loads. But I'll deal with it."
"You are what is important to me," Sam said quietly. "More important
than medicine."
"And you are more important to me than anything - either job or the
priesthood. Remember that."
There were times, Samrat thought, when he wished some of the things of
which they joked had been true. This was one of them as their hands
fell apart and he stared into Phillip's eyes. He understood the truth
of what Phil had said, understood it more powerfully because they both
owned it.
"I never forgot it. But I would not see you fall, on my behalf,
unless I was at your side to carry you."
Phillip chuckled.
"I have plenty of reason to fall of my own accord. And I hope you will
always be there to kick my arse when I do. I will always be there for
you. Do not let my collar or my job ever stand between us," Phillip
said quietly.
"I do not need to be a priest to serve God, but it is infinitely
harder, I have discovered, for me to serve God without you. God is
everywhere and will understand if I have to leave the priesthood."
He reached out, spontaneously wrapping his arms around the other man,
then quickly jolting back with a laugh. "Am I allowed to hug a priest?
I have not ever asked." Sam's grin was wide as he waited for the
answer.
Phillip chuckle.
"Yes, priests are allowed to hug. But more importantly you're allowed
to hug me. Always. And kick me in the arse if I need it. Although if
you're going to do it literally, I'd ask you not do it while I'm in
the middle of a service."
He threw back his head and laughed. "Do you think that I would
actually do that? Attend a service?"
"Anything is possible, Samrat. You know that as well as I do. It is a
strange world we live in."
"But there are stranger worlds than these." This time, the hug lasted.
Phillip hugged Samrat tightly. It was difficult to say which man clung
to the other more. Perhaps they were both clinging equally to the
other.
"There are. We are fortunate, at times, I think."
"Only at times?" He did not release him but his smile could still be
felt, shining hard against Phil's cheek for a moment as he leaned
forward.
"If I said always, you'd badger me for be a foolish optimist. Today I
feel like a realist," he teased.
"And tomorrow?" Sam asked lightly.
"No one knows what tomorrow will bring."
"I cannot decide if that is optimistic or not." He laughed as he
pulled away again, relaxing slightly.
Tomorrow would bring with it work, and trouble of its own, but there
was no reason to bring that up.
"How are things otherwise?" Phillip asked.
"They are... good," he answered. "As much as I would expect." He
wasn't yet sure how to class Hermione - what should have been joy
seems to have been acquiescence on her part. Perhaps, Sam thought, it
would have been better to wait.
"Good is certainly better than miserable," Phillip teased.
"And where does complicated fall?" He laughed, teasing right back.
"Somewhere in the middle, I presume. Women? Or rather a certain woman
still?" Phillip inquired.
"Yes." A slight groan followed. "Phil, I think she may have felt
sorry for me over anything else."
"What makes you say that?" Phil prompted, not eager to talk about this,
but if it was bothering Sam, there was no alternative.
"I... broke down." And Samrat felt equally uncomfortable about that,
knowing that it should have been Phillip when it finally happened -
the problem had been, however, that it was Phillip who'd caused it, at
the root. But how could he explain that? "But not over her... other
things. It was over other things. And it was not long after that,
that she said she wanted to try for this to work."
"So you're going to doubt her because of the circumstances? That seems
a bit unfair. Perhaps take things slow because of them, but I think
doubting her will only lead to trouble," Phillip said.
"You do not think that the only reason then?"
"No. I think any woman would be stupid not to fall for you."
What, then, did he think of Chandni? The question stopped Samrat for
a moment, his eyes obviously wondering as he looked at Phillip. Then
he turned away, saying instead, "Well, she would be a brave woman
indeed. Given all else that exists in this life."
"Brave and smart? Well, then, sounds like you must do what you can to
keep her," Phillip said with a smile.
He laughed at that. "Oh, Phil, I have no idea of what to do. Perhaps
that is the whole of it. It was easier simply having my father select
a girl and marry her." Sam's face quirked. "In some respects."
"Doing things yourself can be more difficult," Phillip quipped. "You
can't have it both ways though. And I'm not sure I'm always the best
person to give you advice on women."
"Outside perspective?" Sam teased right back.
"Unqualified," Phillip retorted. "Even at uni, I didn't really have
what one would call healthy relationships."
"And neither did I. So we are both in the same position, are we not?"
He relaxed, then glanced around where they were standing. "Although
it is hardly appropriate to request that level of advice considering
where we stand."
Phillip chuckled.
"God is everywhere, therefore God is there when you're making love.
Beside, I believe God to be love and sex to be an expression of that,
not something dirty to be hidden. Therefore, there's nothing wrong
with talking about it here. Besides, I hear the stangest things in
here."
"I would ask you what but that would lead me nowhere." Samrat
grinned. "That is, I think, the most difficult job of doctor or
priest - being the holder of confidences. At least, I always found
that people expected me to act as confessor as much as physician at
times." It was particularly true in a place like India, among the
Muslim community - there were times at which a doctor needed to know a
man's sins in order to treat him. In that much, the two of them were
alike.
"There are times when I don't know how I will do it, but it is a skill
that one can learn, fortunately."
Phillip found himself rubbing the other man's back out of habit as
though trying to convey nonverbal messages.
"It is the life we have chosen and our duty. I don't think we would be
as useful to people if we broke that confidence. "
"No," Sam agreed, leaning into Phillip's shoulder. "But that does not
make it any easier, at least not for me. Yourself?"
"Absolutely not," he said with a chuckle. "But I wonder, even if we
were not doctors and priests, might the fates find another way to
force us into keeping confidences?"
"I think that they already have." The answering smile was broad.
"Come, then, do you have time for a cup of tea or are you bound to
certain hours?"
Phillip glanced at his watch. He had an hour till he needed to be back
to at mass.
"I've about an hour before I have to say mass. We could have tea in my rooms. "
"I would prefer that," he said with a faint smile. "I have not yet seen them."
"Alright," Phillip said, leading Sam out of the reconciliation room and through the church, taking him across a small courtyard to the main jesuit
center and leading him to upstairs room. It wasn't much,
just a bed, a desk, and a table. The corner had been made to be an
altar. Setting the electric kettle on, phillip took two mugs off the shelf and
grabbed the box of tea. "It's not much, but I don't really
need much. And I'm only here on weekends usually. "
"In some parts of India, this would be a palace," he smiled. He
leaned against the wall, his eyes focusing around the
sparseness of his surroundings. "They do this so that you can learn to
renounce the world - is this why? I never understood that, at least of
Islam. It is far easier to renounce a thing when you are removed
from all of its joys and temptations."
"When you have renounced the material world you have no
need of things. This suffices. Although we are allowed phones and computers, but it
all belongs to the order. None is our personal property,"
he explained as he gestured to the chairs or the bed. "have a seat.
Stay a while. "
Sam did as Phil suggested, flopping out across the bed as
he'd done in university. "It's not so different from Cambridge." A
grin followed.
"Although I will assume that you have not brought any beer inside."
"Thwre's beer down in the kitchen if you want. We do not impose that
harsh a rule," he said as he poured re tea and handed a cup to Sam.
Sitting down on the bed, he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his
cassock before relaxing a bit.
He laughed, rolling on his stomach and taking the teacup. Taking a
cautious sip, Samrat watched the room for a little longer, deciding
that strangely, he liked it.
"I do not drink still. That last attempt was only because I felt so
desperate." His fingers curled around the glass. "I do not feel it
now."
"Well, thank heavens for that at least," he said with a smile. "I do
not like seeing you desperate. Apart from your brother and your
ladyfriend, things are alright?"
"Yes." Sam laughed. "You do not think that is enough problems?"
Phillip laughed.
"Yes, it is plenty, but considering the way God shits on you
sometimes, I would not be surprised if there was more. "
"Oh?" His grin turned cagey. "And yourself?"
Phillip raised an eyebrow at Sam's response.
"Work and more work. I think that is plenty to keep me awake at night. "
"I wish that we could speak of it. I understand why you cannot but
surely, you are not alone in your feelings on the subject."
"I do not know. There are people at the company who are simply
ignorant of the level of what they do there. I envy them their
innocence and ignorance at times. It would be easier, if no less
wrong. There are many who feel so zealous about what is done there.
They honestly believe it to be the right thing."
Phillip chuckled.
"I have already broken their confidentiality agreemnent, if there is
anything you wish to know, you need simply ask. "
"I do not even know where to begin," Sam said honestly. "I suppose
that I wonder what equipment you use, how many work with you. What it
is that you do love about the work."
"The last one I can answer easiest. There is nothing I love about it,"
Phillip said quietly, focusing on his mug of tea instead of his best
friend.
"Nothing at all?" He had never heard Phil talk like this. "Not even
the challenge? Not even your friend?"
"They are part of what makes me stay there for the moment. And my
promise to you. But they are not loves there. I can't love the
challenge knowing what I know."
"What if," Sam's voice dropped to a whisper. "We were able to find
this thing - this ability to grant magic - if we gave them that, would
they let you go?"
"I am not sure it would be worth the price. I think they would try to
reverse it - take magic away form those who have it. I cannot trust
them, I do not," Phillip said quietly.
"I do not wish to help them in any way. It weighs on my conscience.
But that need not concern you. I will stay until I can safely leave."
"It does concern me." He said softly. "How much longer?"
"Sam, please, there's no need for both of us to be worried about
this," Phillip said, attempting to wave off the concern.
"That's not the first that sentence has been spoken between us." His
gaze remained firm. "It simply came from another pair of lips."
Phillip sighed, fiddling with the buttons on the cuffs of his cassock.
"Two weeks at the earliest," Phillip said.
At the earliest. How things had changed. Sam looked away, not
wanting to watch the nervousness in Phillip's gestures. He wondered
whether that two weeks would extend to four, then to months and
finally, to years. It was something like a marriage, he thought, then
mentally castigated himself for thinking that.
"At least, you see the end." It was a question, rather than concrete comment.
"You are the end, Sam. I am simply trying to figure out the safest way
to leave and do the most good in the process."
He did not need to say atonement, but that is what he felt.
Sam stepped forward, his hand reaching out to the other man. "You
will do good, no matter what happens, because you are good." It was a
simply spoken truth.
Phillip laughed. It was dry and mirthless.
"And you say you have no faith. "
"Faith in people and faith in Allah are not the same thing."
Phillip smiled.
"Touche."
"I prefer people," Sam answered, his hand resting against Phillip's
shoulder. "They are more dependable."
Phillip leaned into Sam's touch instinctively.
"I hope I prove you right. Enough of that though. No use being depressing."
"No, no use." He smiled. "Come, then. Let us set aside this
conversation and enjoy the time that we do have." With that, Sam
settled back, ready for a long talk with the friend that he had spent
too much of his life apart from.