Part 36
Daniel didn't like the fact that the house was so quiet when he reached Jack's place. He liked
it even less when, after ringing the doorbell impatiently, Philip hadn't answered. He cupped his hands against the glass and peered into the house via the window beside the door. It looked empty inside – which only alarmed the anthropologist even more. With gritted teeth he began to pound his fist on Jack's front door.
"PHILIP!" He yelled as he drummed his fist repeatedly. "Philip!”
When there was still no answer he paused and thought for a moment then he quickly checked all the windows he could see – but they all looked closed. Perhaps there was a window left open at the back of the house, he thought to himself and just as he started to turn to go around to the back he decided to give the front door one more try. Curling his reddened hand into a fist once more he banged loudly as he yelled against the wood; "Philip! Philip! Let me in!"
Suddenly the door flew open and Daniel stumbled momentarily before regaining his footing. The young, red-eyed man on the other side of the door said, "Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin!"
"What the hell were you doing?" Daniel asked, jerking his jacket back into place.
"I was having a shit, if you must know," the younger man said then tilted his head. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"What am I..?" Daniel blustered then widened his eyes as he tilted his head and said, snidely, "I was worried about you!" Readjusting his jacket once more, he said, "You hung up on me!"
Running his hand through his scraggly hair, Philip sighed then rested his palm against his neck as he looked at the flustered man before him. With eyes partly hooded - from tears, fatigue and probably, Daniel thought, a desire for him to go away - Philip said, "I'm not in the chatting mood at the moment." With a sharp shrug and a forced smile (which reminded Daniel of one of Jack's sardonic grins), Phil added, "Go figure!"
The anthropologist shivered at the way Philip had taken on so many of Jack's mannerisms. "I think you need to.." He said, arching his brow to accentuate his words.
Shaking his head and looking at his socked feet, Philip mumbled, "No.. I.. I.." Suddenly he raised his eyes and stared at Daniel with certain fear. "Where's Jack?"
Surprised by the abrupt change in his friend, Daniel jutted his thumb over his shoulder and said, "Back at my place. He's okay. I called Janet and Sam.."
"Janet?" Phil's voice rose with panic. "He's that sick?"
"No.. no.. no!" Daniel held his hand up to soothe his worried friend. "He's just lying down. He's got a headache." Seeing the concern in the dark eyes still, Daniel added, with a casual shrug, "Jack gets headaches. A lot."
Philip nodded slowly, recalling how Jack had a headache on the first night that they'd met and he'd offered to massage him to help relieve it. He wanted to recall that night in all its details but his mind was too fuzzy - too many painkillers were confusing his thoughts and making him weary. Rubbing his hand over his face, so roughly that he almost flattened his nose, Philip gave a soulful sigh. "I'm so worried about him," he mumbled against his palm.
Daniel watched his desolate friend then looked around at the doorway he was still standing in. "Can I come in?" He asked with a frown.
Realizing where they were, Philip stepped back and let his friend into the house. “Sorry!”
He waited for Daniel to hang his jacket on the hook on the back of the door then he swept his hand towards the living room before shoving them both into the pockets of his pants as he walked with Daniel to the top step. "How is he?" He asked with unhidden sadness in his voice. When he saw how Daniel frowned at that question, he expanded it; “I mean, I gather he came to tell you that.. I.. know..” The dark eyelashes fluttered then Philip looked up into the shielded blue gaze. “So, please – be honest with me, Danny? How is he taking this?”
Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, Daniel took a moment then shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure.” He stepped down into the living room and noted how Philip followed him gingerly. Together they went to the sofa and sat side by side.
Reaching out for Daniel's hand, Philip said quietly, "You shouldn't have worried about me.."
“Of course I worry about you! You’re one of my closest friends,” Daniel said, squeezing the hand holding his gently. With an arched brow and a faint smile, he added, "And you hung up on me. How could I not be worried?"
Rolling his eyes, Philip turned away from him slightly, allowing their hands to slip apart. He pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger as he stared at the orange fire. Daniel rubbed his palms on his thighs nervously as he waited for his friend to say something – anything.
“Sometimes it seems like I forget that I know…” then with a soft, derisive snort Philip said, “and then it hits me all over again! That gut-wrenching sensation of knowing that not only is your own world coming to an end, but that you’ve caused someone else’s to as well.” His breath hitched as he turned to look at the man beside him. Through a voice think with emotion, he asked, “How can he not hate me for doing this to him?”
Daniel stared back blankly at him for a few moments then he seemed to jerk awake, wet his lips quickly and lower his head. “He doesn’t blame you.”
“How do you know?” Phil snapped back immediately. Shuffling to face Daniel more, he clenched his hands as he implored, “In his darkest moments – and believe me Daniel – knowing that you’ve got this causes some pretty damn dark moments – how can he not hate me for this?” The younger man swallowed, trying to calm the shake in his voice. “He doesn’t deserve this!”
“No one deserves this,” Daniel corrected him.
With a slight hardening in his eyes, Philip shook his head and muttered, “No, you’re wrong. John.. John might have..”
“How can you say that?”
Vehemently Philip retorted, “Because he infected me. Maliciously and without regard for my life!” The two men stared at each other a moment then Philip made a quiet sniff as he lowered his chin to his chest. In a more restrained voice he confessed, “I loved him and he infected me. And now… now I hate him.” He clenched his jaw as he swallowed again. Lifting his face, tears glistened along his lower lashes and he fought valiantly to keep his voice from shaking as he told Daniel, “Jack loved me. I infected him, ergo, he must hate me, too.”
“No!” Daniel said, holding his hand up immediately to silence that kind of talk. “NO!” He reiterated with an arch of his brow. “That does not follow. That line of reasoning is just not logical, Philip - and you know that!”
Bowing his head and pressing the balls of his hands into his eyes, the younger man growled mournfully. Daniel reached across him, hugging his arm over the narrow back as he gently laid his chin on Phil’s shoulder. Into his ear, he said quietly, “Jack LOVES you. He’s going to go on loving you.. He doesn’t blame you for this.”
“I blame me..” The other man squeaked.
“I know,” Daniel said, hugging him a little closer as he listened to his distraught friend cry quietly.
*
After a short time, Philip eased back away from Daniel's chest and began wiping at his eyes furiously, trying to clear up the tears that impaired his vision. With a weak smile, and in a low voice, he told the man slowly releasing him; “Thanks. I think I needed that.”
Daniel returned the unsure smile then touched his fingers against Philip’s sallow cheek. “Glad I could be of some help.”
Still wiping his eyes and then drying his hands on his pants legs, Philip admitted quietly, “Sometimes I can't stop crying and other times I feel as cold as ice.." He wiped his hand under his nose as he sighed heavily. "I think I'm losing my mind, Daniel."
Shaking his head, the anthropologist said, "You're coping with a lot. Give yourself a break!"
With another heavy sigh, Philip gave a shrug-cum-nod as he shifted on the sofa then got up and tended the fire.
"Sometimes I forget things, you know?" He said in a far-away voice as he stared at the flames dancing before him. "It drives Jack's crazy, I know, but in a way it's good - a lot of the time. Sometimes I can forget I've got this.” He stopped talking abruptly then shrugged as he added, “But it always hurts all over again when I remember that Jack's got this too.” Turning to look towards the sofa he said, in a passionate whisper, “It haunts me, day and night. I watched him all this week, you know, to see if he's faltering in any way. I go crazy with worry when I know there’s not a damn thing I can do to relieve him of this. If I could, I would..” He stared meaningfully at Daniel a moment then shrugged and added; “I guess that's why I went ballistic when you told me he wasn't well."
Ignoring the discomfort Phil’s intense gaze left him with, Daniel sat forward and said, “Believe me. I can understand how that feels. As you know, I’ve got someone in my life who’s in a situation that I feel sort of responsible for and every day I want to stop her pain, but I know that I can’t. I have to live with it, knowing that she’s somewhere out there, suffering and I can’t do a damn thing about it either.”
“Sha’re?” Philip asked, knowing, from Graham, that Daniel was actually a married man and his wife was somehow ‘missing’. Graham had once told Philip that although he knew Daniel was still in love with her, what he and Daniel shared was ‘real’ too. Philip had often wondered if she was a political prisoner of some sort – knowing that the military had something to do with her disappearance – but, like a lot of things about his brother’s job – he never asked him anything more about it.
Daniel swallowed and nodded. “And then there’s times when I can push that to the back of my mind. I get up and go on and I go out. I laugh about things. I worry about other issues..”
“You fall in love with other people?” Philip commented then quickly ducked his face as he poked at the fire.
Daniel wet his lips then nodded. “Yes. I have.”
The younger man looked over at him and was captivated by Daniel's blue eyes.
“But there’s nothing I can do about that,” Daniel told him.
Unsure if Daniel was still referring to helping his wife or falling in love with someone else, Philip let the issue ride. He hung the poker back onto its stand then carefully stood, uncurling his creaky body slowly. He came back to the coffee table then suggested, “Shall I get us both a drink?”
Getting to his feet quickly, Daniel said, “I can get it.”
With a faint smile, Phil told him, "I can, Danny. I'm not dead - yet."
The anthropologist instantly looked upset by that clipped comment and Philip cringed. "Sorry," he told him, "force of habit." In a more gentle tone he flicked his eyes towards the fire and suggested, "Why don't you stay here where it’s warm?”
Nodding, Daniel smoothed his hands down his thighs, easing his black cord pants into place as he headed over to the fireplace.
*
He was bending over, holding his palms out towards the heat when he heard the quiet shuffle of Phil's feet behind him. He turned and took the cup offered to him then smiled as Philip headed back to get his own drink.
Lifting the cup to his lips Daniel was not prepared for the unexpected taste. Loudly he spat out the drink, spraying the stone hearth completely. Philip saw this from the top step and frowned. Daniel wiped his hand under his bottom lip and twisted in time to see the artist watching him.
"What's wrong with the coffee?" Phil asked, coming over to him.
Wiping the back of his hand against his thigh, Daniel said, "This tastes salty." Blinking quickly, he looked down into the black drink then up at the frowning man.
"Salty? I put two sugars in it?"
Licking the taste from his lips, and screwing up his nose in the process, Daniel placed the cup onto the hearth and said, "Phil, I don't take sugar."
"You don't?"
Shaking his head, Daniel wiped his lips with his thumb as he said, "Graham does. I don't." He blinked then dried his thumb on his sweater. "But this is salty, not sweet." He went into the kitchen, with Philip following him, and then he saw the salt canister on the bench beside the instant coffee jar. He picked it up and looked at it. It was a basic glass jar with a pale blue band going around the middle of it with the very faint word "salt' written in Jack's handwriting. He tilted his head and looked at his confused friend. Philip squinted as he looked at the writing then sighed and slapped his hand over his face.
"I'm an idiot!" He groaned. Peeling the fingers from his eyes, he said, "Sorry."
"That's okay."
Philip leaned over and pulled out another canister - identical in every way apart from the pale green band and the (also faint) word "Sugar" (Actually it was ‘Suga’ the 'r' had completely rubbed off from use). Holding his hands out, Philip presented the two canisters to his friend. "Don't know how I mixed them up!"
Daniel did. Apart from a subtle difference in the color of the bands around them, they looked pretty much the same. He watched as Philip pulled open a drawer and foraged through the clutter inside for a marker. He passed it to him and Daniel immediately knew what he wanted him to do. Carefully lifting the jar in his hand, Daniel angled it so that he could write on the faded surfaces, re-labeling them for Philip. Holding it up for his appraisal, he then waited until Philip nodded before he put it down and picked up the other one. Once he'd finished he put the lid back onto the marker and handed it to his friend.
"Thanks," Philip said with a relieved smile.
"Least Jack won't end up with salt in his coffee." Phil's grin broadened and Daniel nodded. "That's good to see."
"Want to risk another coffee?" The artist asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"This time,' Daniel said, wagging a finger at him, "I'll make it!"
The other man laughed softly then started coughing as he nodded and passed over a new cup to Daniel. Walking away, Philip went in search of his MDI to ease his coughs while Daniel made them both a fresh hot drink.
End of part 36
- Thanks to Sandi - for reading and re-reading the many various versions of this one damn part !!!! LOL - what would I do without you, m'dear!!!!
Stories on this page are the property of Nessessitee and Slida. Please do not copy these without the written permission of the Author. All Rights are acknowledged for MGM, Gekko and Stargate Productions as to the Copyrights of the characters within this story and no infringement on the copyrights are intended. For the Bombshells Series the character of Philip Simmons is entirely the creation and intellectual property of Nessessitee and Slida.
While the performances given by RDA and MS help to fuel the author's desire to write for their characters in a niche that she feels is present on the actual show, the portrayal of their characters in loving relationships in no way reflects the Author's opinion of the men's private life, nor should it be construed in that manner.