Phillip Hughes, M.D, S.J. (fidesetratio) wrote in whatprice, @ 2009-05-06 23:56:00 |
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Current location: | London |
Current mood: | confused |
Entry tags: | phillip hughes, samrat amarnath |
Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around..
Who: Sam & Phil
When: Monday 2 May 2009, around 3am
Where: Sam's flat
What: Phil needs to confess to someone, who better than his best friend?
Rating: It's Sam - PG-13
He should have called, Phil thought to himself. Not wandered the
streets and rung the bell to Sam's flat at some ungodly predawn hour.
But he'd spent the night in vigil. He had to show up at MI7 on Monday,
but he didn't know what would happen then. He wanted to tell Sam
something before he went back to work for hopefully the last time. He
took a long drag from the cigarette, not wanting to think about how
many he'd smoked tonight. Ringing the bell again, Phillip paced. Maybe
he should just leave well enough alone and let Sam sleep. Yes, that'd
be best.
Sam was already awake. There was no such thing as a normal schedule
in a life like the one that he had chosen. The only delay was in the
time it took for him to pick up his gun as he leaned against the door.
"Who is it?" he hissed behind it, waiting for the answer.
"Someone who knows you make a better woman than I do," Phil said. "Or
are you going to make me recount embarrassing anecdotes about our life
together?"
"Oh, Chood, come in before someone sees you." He sighed,
opening the door, deliberately moving the hand with the gun behind his
body to shield it. It felt strange, to come to the door with Phillip
there, with a weapon in hand. He didn't like the feeling.
"It's not like I'm some sort of hooker," Phillip said as he came inside.
"I'm fucked."
"No," Sam agreed. "If you were a hooker, that would generally come
next." He walked over and rested the gun back on the shelf where he
normally kept it, out of sight. Leaning over, he thumbed the lock
until it closed, then glanced back at Phillip. "What is wrong?"
"I can't keep working at my job. I don't know if they'll me quit. I've
seen them do terrible things.." Phillip said as he made his way to the
couch, cigarette dangling from his fingertips. "I shouldn't burden
you, but I.. I don't think I can tell my superior."
The fact that he wasnt' sure he could confess it was a clear
indication that things were wrong.
He paused, then sat down on the floor, legs crossed as he lit his own
cigarette, then stretched, offering the lighter to Phillip.
"How many burdens have you helped me carry?" Sam scowled. "You would
have to tell me eventually so speak it now. It does not pass these
walls, you know this." Though he felt a sense of unease at the
realization that Phil had secrets now from the church. What could
trouble him to that extent?
"This is in regards to that thing we mentioned last week," Phillip
said quietly before he went to light his already lit cigarette. "Are
these walls safe?"
"Yes," the other man paused. "Unless you brought something with you."
His eyes glanced over his friend, wondering if he'd guessed right in
that being a possibility.
"No. Nothing. Nothing," Phillip said, staring between the lighter and
the cigarette.
"I work for an organization that experiments on witches and wizards."
"Yes," he was shaken but his eyes asked the other man to continue.
Focus. It cannot be what you think. He is not that man, to do
such things.
"Since September. The Jesuits put me there after the organization saw
an article I wrote last year.. I don't know if I can leave. There
might be politics involved. Bloody politics. I've done my best to
uphold the oath. Do no harm. I've tried, Samrat, God I've tried, tried
to help them, but I can't save them all.." Phillip said, his shoulders
shaking.
"Wait - the Jesuits put you there? But why? I do not understand."
"Because I have not yet made my final vows as a Jesuit. The
organization could not employ me without my superiors permission. My
superiors thought it would be advantageous.." Phillip said quietly,
playing with the cuffs of his shirt.
"I..."
"You what?" Samrat's voice was urgent as he leaned forward. "Just
say it, Phillip. If you are to endanger us with the truth, then let
it be the whole truth."
"The ship that was sunk? Two of the prisoners were on it. I was
against their transport, I didn't think they'd survive. They're alive.
I know that. It was a rescue effort that sunk the ship. I was
accessory to experiments on them. I didn't order anything that would
harm them, but I knew what they were doing. I used their blood for
medical research," Phillip said, staring at the cigarette.
"And what was the purpose of that research?" He sighed, leaning back
and looking up at the ceiling. "Phillip, these sound like things that
you could not control. Stop for a moment, think. Then tell me. Did
you have any direct ability to change that situation?"
"Mine? To try and find a cure for AIDS, what else? To see if their
blood reacts differently to HIV, to try and cure them of their
illnesses - that I think were caused by the organization. I could have
refused the job. I could have left when I realized what I would be
doing. They gave me military training in case they need me in the
field. They want me to be able to kill if necessary. The things they
did to those girls, Sam, I've never seen anything so horrendous. I
told myself it was for the greater good though.. and that was crap. I
can't keep working there, Sam, but, well, I'm not sure if I can just
leave.." Phillip said, kicking off his shoes and pulling up his legs
so he was sitting cross legged on the sofa - somehow it reminded him
of the time in India and that was a small comfort.
"I understand," Sam answered and he did. Sighing as he relaxed on his
back, he tried to think of an answer. "The answer that I have to give
is one that you will not like. First - have you gone to your
superiors in the Jesuits? If there is - if what they are doing are
crimes against God, then can they not release you from the work?"
"The ends justify the means," Phillip quoted. "They know what's
going on there. They expect me to report on it weekly. They want the
information the organization has."
"What are the ends?" He needed more time to think and he wished
suddenly that he had another wizard there - Hermione or Bill or even
Neville. Someone who could have taken what Phil was saying and then
forgiven him.
"I don't know. They don't want me to know," Phillip said quietly.
"I've become one of them.."
"I think..." Sam walked over and picked up his phone, dropping it
into the other man's hands. "You need to call them. Tell them that
you will not be in to work tomorrow. Then you are going to sleep,
where I can see you and I can be sure that no one will harm you.
Then... tomorrow, we talk." He could see that Phil was too wrought to
make sense of it tonight - that, and he needed time himself to
consider what he could do himself, should the other man need
protection that he couldn't offer. He was not sure he wanted to give
Phil to the wizards.
"I can't.. if I don't show up, they'll suspect something," Phillip
said, holding his head in his hands. "Especially considering what
happened over the weekend. I'm on record with one of the prisoners
saying I want to help them. I need to go in tomorrow. So they don't
suspect I had something to do with the rescue over the weekend. I.. I
just needed to tell you In case.. in case they don't accept my
resignation."
"Well, you can't bloody offer it now," Sam snapped, reaching
down and shaking him by the shoulders. "Do not be an idiot. If you
resign now, they will kill you and they will have won. You
cannot do that. You must wait - at least a month. If it consoles
you, decide that you will gather information and give it to the others
after you have left. But now? If you have that record? You cannot
afford to leave. Anything but."
"I don't know if I can survive that long," Phillip whispered.
"You can," he said. "And you will." He hated himself for forcing the
other man to it but he knew there was no other option - if Phil was to
survive this, it would not be by resigning under the presence of
guilt. Any enterprise this dangerous would hunt him down. "Because I
am here and by Allah, I will carry you on my back if that is what it
takes, do you understand?"
Phillip shifted so that he was leaning against Sam. Adrian's
confession weighed heavily on him, but that was one thing he could
share for no one.
"What did I ever do to deserve you?"
"I do not know," he said, wrapping his arms around the other man with
a laugh. "But it must have been terrible." Sam tightened his
grip despite the playful tone in his words, feeling the need to keep
Phillip close. As if it could keep the other things away.
Phillip couldn't help but chuckle as he closed his eyes, feeling
secure for the moment.
"I have to go in tomorrow. Today, rather. But I should be able to get
back here next weekend unless they call me in."
"You know that my home is yours. I do not know how many times I will
have to say it but it stands." He leaned back, closing his own eyes.
"What would they call you in for?"
"I'm always on call with them when I'm not at the office for
whatever they need," Phillip said. "Maybe a few more times. Until I
start passing out drunk on your sofa. Then you'll just kick me in the
head till I wake up."
"Or put your hand in a jar of peanut butter. Or pour a bucket of
fucking ice cold water. I have my ways." There was something
contented about the moment as he let his head recline against the back
of the couch. "What is it about being drunk? You know, I do not even
know how it feels."
"I seem to recall you doing some of those when I tried to drown myself
in beer after Maggie broke things off back at Uni," Phillip said with
a wry chuckle. He'd gone through various girlfriends at Uni, usually
breaking things off for the sake of academics and research. Maggie was
one of the ones who'd actually broken things off with him for a
change.
"You're not missing anything. It's a vice. A horrible habit, really.
Usually just an attempt to numb the pain or forget about something. "
"And it never seems to work. But this?" His toes curled around
Phillip's for a moment, too sleepy to think about it. "This seems
better comfort."
"It is. But sometimes it's easier to to find beer than you," Phillip
said with a grin. Finding Sam's hand, he clutched it like it was his
lifeline.
"I miss her so much. I wonder if things would be different.."
There was no need to wonder who Phil was talking about because it
certainly wasn't Maggie.
"Beer is cheaper," he said with a grin before his mind processed the
other man's comment. He sighed, his grip tightening around Phillip's.
"Yes. They would be. Of course they would... I... I wish they would
even have given me a body... there was nothing they would tell me for
certain. They said that I could not bury them." His voice was quiet
as he remembered, speaking out loud what he had not told his friend
then, too lost in the memory to recall it.
"But I can pay you in tea and cigarettes," Phil quipped.
"I planted a tree for them in the courtyard of the church. I know it's
not much, but well, I felt the need to do something," Phillip said
quietly. "How did you survive?"
"I do not know," Sam admitted. "For a long time, I did not." He went
quiet again, then said, "But I want to begin again someday. I miss...
being a father. I do not want to die unremembered."
There were so many issues Phillip had with those statements.
Irrational jealousy of any woman who would take up Sam's time,
especially considering he'd just gotten Sam back in his life. And the
fact that he had taken vows of celibacy - he would never have children
of his own. And Hadi was the closest he'd ever gotten.
"I'm sure God will give you that chance," Phil finally said quietly,
putting the matter in God's hands since he could not be trusted to
respond well to it.
"Perhaps. Or perhaps not. I have already been luckier than some."
He could feel himself starting to drift, his breathing growing deep as
he relaxed.
"I am lucky and blessed to have you back in my life. It is like Easter
and Christmas all rolled into one," Phil said with a content smile on
his face. "It may be blasphemous, but I feel with you at my side, all
things are possible."
"And why would that be blasphemous?" Samrat asked.
"There's a scripture verse that goes, 'With God, all things are
possible'," Phil said tiredly. "I think, at times, that you the
representative of God in my life."
The other man fell silent, measuring the sound of Phil's breathing.
The deep rhythm of it. Then- "I think that we are all God, in each
other. If, that is, there is such a thing as a universal force or
parent."
"Mmm.. yes... there's a verse in the Qur'an that's translated as 'To
God belongs the East and the West,
Wheresoever you look is the face of God.' I think that makes sense.
The Hindus say similar with 'Namaste' - The God within me greets the
God/spirit within you.' Most religions have some sense of that."
Phillip chuckled, some part of his brain trying to tell him that it
was too late to be discussing theology.
'We are good for each other. In all good is the presence of God.
Although it is too late to argue about him."
"It is," he agreed. "So, rest and be at peace for a while. You will
be leaving soon enough." His hand reached out, pushing a stray hair
from Phil's forehead. The gesture reminded him of Hadiyyah and Sam
smiled softly, though sadly, to himself, praying that Phillip's new
profession did not strike at his own heart a second time.
"I need to wake up at six," Phillip murmured tiredly. "Thank you.."
"I will wake you." What Samrat did not say was that he did not plan to sleep himself. "Just sleep. Nothing can touch you now."