[ACTION] I heard that your dreams came true...

[sadfreezingbrit]

On second thought, maybe Philip should've tried harder to hide the shock and surprise he felt after waking up next to that woman. Not taking too kindly to the subtle encouragement that her morning routine was due she left for the bathroom.

So Philip got up and stared. Stared at his own room, his own flat. Stared through the window, because there were people outside and... and everything was perfectly normal.

He soon found himself sitting down at the kitchen table, trying to make sense of it all. The newspaper he'd grasped absent-mindedly put the date on the 17th of March, 2000. One month after he'd received his father's letter. A little over a month after his mum died. Two weeks after he'd split up with Valerie and promised to give her a call once things calmed down a little. He never would, but in approximately one year he would book a flight to Greenland, return date pending, only...

Only all of that was complete and utter nonsense. His mum was fine, why wouldn't she be? He remembered his father's letter and the deposit box, he remembered his curiosity and his mum's advice. Burn the documents, raise no further questions. Fine. If that's what Howard wanted. One sperm for one favour, that ought to make them even.

Philip would be lying if he said he didn't think about the book at all, but he'd be lying just the same if he said he didn't have better ways of spending his time.

"What, not even coffee?"

Val, for example, who was still here, because-- Well, why wouldn't she be? They met at a party on New Year's Eve and so far things were absolutely great.

"I, um. What? Right! Right, sorry..."

At least they would be, once Philip got around to explaining his strange behaviour.

"Sorry, I just... I had a really weird dream."

He stands up and gets the coffee. Val sits down.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it actually started when--"

He stops himself. Shakes his head.

"You know what, it was just... complete nonsense. Um. Never mind, all right?"

She looks at him for a moment. Then she shrugs. Reaches for the newspaper.

"All right..."

An hour or so later Philip is off to work. For the rest of the day he will be at the university, sitting in his office and answer student queries during the hours while writing on an article for a journal.

During that time he'll call his mum. Twice, just to hear her voice. And a third time, because--

During that time he'll remember his dream, the one according to which all of this would be nothing but "an event". He'll remember it all too vividly at first, but the more he tries to forget... the easier it gets.

And by the time he drives back home he can't even remember the name of-- Oz? Narnia? No, that wasn't... but something like that, Neverland? No, not quite, I think... oh, who cares!

----

The second day is Saturday. Movie day. You will find him and his friends at the movie theatre, getting ready for a screening of Final Destination. They'll be at the pub later as well, for anyone who feels like dropping in for a pint.

At least they wanted to. Until Dean Winchester intervened and cancelled the plans this dream still had for Philip.

Sunday. A lazy day. Well. There is a lesson to prepare, a student's thesis to look over and a phone call or two to make, about that article. But the rest is all his. And Val's, of course.

Monday. Philip has no intention of leaving. He has a lecture to give in the morning and a seminar the following afternoon. It's university day all day, but around noon Philip and his esteemed colleagues will be dining at a café nearby.

Tuesday. The last day. Philip has a bad feeling, bad enough to call in sick. Bad enough to leave before telling his girlfriend where he's going or why. Bad enough to drive all the way down to Canterbury and see his mum, his mum whose death in a dream just keeps coming back to him until phone calls just won't do. He needs to see her in person, right now.

He needs to tell her everything about that dream, that time around Christmas she lost control of her car and crashed into the side of the road. They kept here alive, they did everything, tried everything, they did surgery at the beginning of February. She didn't make it.

She wasn't there when he received the letter, when he ignored his father's request. She wasn't there to talk sense into him when he left for Greenland, she wasn't-- At least she wasn't there to see what happened to him after that.

But now she's there and she makes him a cup of tea. She reassures him that she's still alive, that everything is all right. She tells him it must be stress. The article maybe. Problems with Valerie? Oh, but she's such a sweet girl, why don't you two just take a week off and go somewhere nice, forget about work for just a few days?

Philip thinks he might do that. Philip thinks he might take his mum up on the offer to drive him home, since he's still a bit rattled. Philip thinks... Philip doesn't have much time to think before she yanks the wheel and steers their speeding car into the side of the road.

[tl;dr The available locations are Philip's flat, Philip's university (his own office, a big lecture hall and a smaller classroom), a movie theatre, a pub, a café and his mum's house, but don't expect him to react too kindly to anyone showing up there. Or anywhere for that matter. Location in subject line would be great. Also there will be no getting him to leave at any point, but give it your best shot! ]

Comments

Lecture Hall lalala~

[libraritology]

Having spoken with Sherlock about the event and its possible ramifications - as well as its varying effects on the people it takes into its grasp - Evelyn thinks it best to find Philip as soon as humanly possible. His door is the same on the outside, room number centered at eye level. Having prepared herself for some sort of horrific, dimly-lit mine, Evelyn turns the knob to find-

-a lecture hall.

One that has apparently just let out of class, students filing down the aisles and pushing past her, into the mansion hallway that isn't a mansion hallway anymore. It's a wide corridor with terrazzo floors and very bright lights. A few of the young people give her odd looks, but that's likely due to what she's wearing. At least she changed from what she'd had on after leaving her own dream.

Stepping inside quickly, she waits until everyone clears out and the door shuts behind her.

Well. Almost everyone clears out.

Another student appears to be talking to Professor LaFresque at the moment, so she waits by the exit, rocking on her heels. His school. This must be his school, the World Renowned University of Et cet, Et cet (TM). And he's teaching again. But that can't be the half of it.

Resisting the urge to interrupt, she holds her tongue. For now.

[sadfreezingbrit]

Philip notices neither her nor her outfit. For now.

"...but I'm looking at your proposal and you, erm, you claim that your aim was to find a substantially different approach to mapping electric charges that actually - and I quote - "calls into question common assumptions about the molar mass of most naturally-occurring elements", but--"

He shuts the folder on his desk and hands it back to the student whose expression grows increasingly uncomfortable as that of his professor hardens.

"...what you've been doing here so far is essentially a glorified derivation of Faraday's second--"

Philip casts a quick glance to the side, to what appears to be another unscheduled appointment. He checks his watch.

"Look, the gist is that I can see what you're going for, but we discussed a different direction last month and now you've got at least six chapters with nothing whatsoever to back them up. I'll--"

The student opens his mouth to speak, but Philip interrupts.

"I've got your e-mail, I'll send you a list of books you might want to look into and I've got-- you, er, you know Professor Kinsler, right? He's done an article on electromagnetic radiation last year which I think you should really give a read, all right? And I'll see your revisions on Wednesday."

Muttered agreement. Curt goodbyes. A bundle of academic despair slinking past Evelyn and out into the corridor.

A much warmer smile inviting her to step closer.

[libraritology]

Evelyn does so, glancing behind her briefly to make sure that the other student has left.

Gone. Good.

She thinks fast as she takes those precious few steps in. Sherlock Holmes knew who he was, where he was, and how he would have been wrong to mistake these places for reality. Evelyn had woken up thinking that she had simply had a dream, a very strange dream about a strange place with all sorts of different people she'd never met before, and it wasn't until she decided to go through that forbidden door - in her case, the one to the servants' quarters - that she realised it was all wrong.

But already, Philip doesn't seem to know. He would have called her by name if that wasn't the case. Instead, he smiles benevolently.

...it can't hurt to try.

"Hello, um-"

It's really, really quite intimidating to talk to him under these circumstances.

"Do you...remember my name?"

[sadfreezingbrit]

Something with Ev in the corner of his mind. A familiar feeling. Happy and yet... more unease than there should be. Perhaps the strange greeting. Yes. It has to be.

"I'm afraid not."

He smiles apologetically.

"It's a big class."

Putting the last of his notes into the briefcase on the desk his look urges her to state her name and business.

[libraritology]

Nothing, really? Not even the faintest hint of recognition?

"Well- No, I'm not actually a student here, but my name is Evelyn. Evelyn Carnahan."

She looks desperately hopeful.

"We've met before."

[sadfreezingbrit]

Philip's eyes widen. Well, now it's just embarrassing.

"We, um, we have?"

It's not unusual for him (or anyone, really) to forget a student or two or a dozen, but if that's not how they know each other then he has to start worrying that he might have glossed over somebody important.

"I'm really sorry, but I'm afraid you might have to remind me."

The briefcase clicks shut.

"Actually, do you mind if we walk? I've just got to get to my office, I'm expecting a call and at least I want to be there in person and tell them I'm busy."

A hopeful smile, because... still embarrassed.

[libraritology]

As she thought. Nothing.

"No, not at all!"

She smiles back, because she's certain that this is as good as it might very well get in taking up some of Philip's time. Perhaps being around him might job his memory a bit. Gesturing that he lead the way out of the lecture hall, Evelyn keeps pace and frantically scrounges another feasible story up.

"We, ah..."

Dated? No, that doesn't sound quite right.

"We were friends, for a while. Not here, but somewhere else, and we sort of-"

How to put this gingerly?

"-spent the evening together."

[sadfreezingbrit]

"Friends for a while?"

Well, now that's just odd. A friend of a friend slipping his mind, a colleague he met abroad, a seminar, a dinner party, all those things that open you up for encounters during which it turns out you were more memorable to them than they were to you.

It happens and he buys it gladly, but the idea that he missed more than a few days at most? That's going to require a better pitch to sell.

"What, you mean- you mean back in Canterbury?"

Back in his childhood. That's the only somewhere else he can feasibly grasp that might possibly allow somebody so unfamiliar to be so close as 'friends for a while', but... doesn't she look a tad young for that? And what's 'spent the evening together' supposed to mean, anyway?

Rounding a corner he starts fishing for the keys in his pocket to unlock the office ahead.

[libraritology]

"It's...hard to explain."

Friends for months. Months that he can't even remember. But how in the seven Hells is she supposed to tell him that they met in the foyer of a pan-dimensional mansion, that he offered her his towel and showed her around, that they had plenty of wonderful conversations together before he stumbled drunkenly into her bedroom one night and told her about-

"Greenland."

And then there were the dating and the Clarence and the making love bits all right moving on.

"Not- I mean, not in Greenland, obviously, but you- Forget I even mentioned that," Evelyn huffs, frustrated, and decides to take a different route.

"I don't know you from a particular place. It's not a question of where I'm from, but when. You're one of the top theoretical physicists, Philip, you practically run this department. Surely you've considered the possibilities of wormholes beyond using them as an analogy for general relativity in your introductory classes?"

[sadfreezingbrit]

He walks. Arrives at the door and unlocks his office. Door open he beckons Evelyn inside, about to offer her a cup of coffee when--

Greenland. Greenland and other things that make him frown warily and make his stomach lurch the moment she calls him by his first name.

"It's, um... Professor LaFresque, if you don't mind."

A well-respected professor no less, given the considerable contributions he made at a fairly young age, pursuing his special field with dedication and yet... and yet he's barely taught here for more than five years, seniority is utterly out of the question and so is being anywhere near running the department.

It's got a lovely ring to it, he has to admit that much, but given the context it does preciously little to put him at ease instead of further on the edge.

"And I appreciate the compliment, although I might appreciate it more if I'd actually taught an introductory class in the last two years or if I was the one to talk to about wormholes instead of Professor Morris."

He sighs and looks at her, his smile strained.

"Now what exactly is this all about?"

[libraritology]

Professor LaFresque. Of course. How very formal compared to the first time they met.

...Please, just Philip, if you don't mind.

Perhaps coming here in the first place had been a poor decision. It simply doesn't make sense, though, that if Sherlock knew...if Sherlock knew everything wasn't real, why doesn't Philip?

It hurts because it's him, because he's looking at her the way every man in her field looks at her: as though she was the stain that couldn't be rubbed out. The way the curator did when Evelyn suggested that the map might lead to Hamunaptra. The way a professor looks at a student when they've already tired of the conversation and would rather the young man or woman left.

A pleasant, tight smile masking annoyance.

Evelyn's face falls, she takes a deep, shaky breath, and fidgets in the doorway to his office. If this is the mansion's idea of a joke, it's a very poor one.

"...if I tell you, you'll think I'm mad. Not that you probably don't already."

[sadfreezingbrit]

Because sometimes life (or rather Wonderland) does reward you for your hard work after all. The only difference is that Sherlock Holmes was working hard towards uncovering the truth whereas Philip put all his energy into pretending that truth never existed. People believe what they want to believe. Some, it seems, more vividly than others.

"What I think is..."

He looks at her.

Her clothes.

Her face.

Her expression.

"...is that one of my students put his girlfriend up to a practical joke."

Her expression.

"I'd wait for the punchline, but I was serious about that phone call. Did you need anything else?"

MOVIE THEATAAAAH

[dashboardlite]

[This time around, the narration has chosen to opt for scripting style rather than prose, and she does hope this doesn't throw off the other narration's entire sense of balance, because it can be an incredibly difficult transition and we understand that.

...

Thank you.

...

Dean doesn't know if it's a djinn or just an event feeding off his memories of one, but he knows how it ends, and being drained into some kind of withered husk isn't on the menu today - not for him or for his friends.

This gives him a perfectly good reason to bust up into Philip's world to find a movie theatre.

...Wow.

He honestly can't remember the last time he went to one of these. The featured film is Final Destination-]

Heh. Hilarious.

[-and an assortment of people mill around, waiting for the showing to start, buying popcorn and M&Ms. Glancing behind himself, Dean realizes that he's walked out of what looks like the men's bathroom. Great. At least there's an exit.

Now to find Philip...]

1/2

[sadfreezingbrit]

Narration: *is offended*
Narration: *will teach that mun to just change styles like that*
Theatre: *is full of people*
Movie: *will start in half an hour*
Philip: *stands in the distance, surrounded by a group of friends*

2/2

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ Other narration: *locks the previous narration in its room until it has calmed down*

...That being said Philip is indeed standing near a group of four other people, waiting for the film to start in about half an hour.

Without noticing Dean the group keeps debating whether they've come here too early and Philip agrees with one of the women that it beats getting here late and points out that traffic is usually worse, you know how it is.

The debate is interrupted and not resumed further when a sixth person appears and supplies Philip with a bag of M&Ms, a drink and a kiss on the cheek. ]

[dashboardlite]

[Good thing that other narration was locked up, they were starting to get a bit out of control.

Dean squints across the theatre's atrium at a small group of people, laughing and generally having a good time. Oh, kids these days- Wait, those aren't kids.

It's Philip and some other movie-goers. Philip and- damn, now she is fine-lookin', but Dean knows exactly what the Hell that means. Phil doesn't seem bothered, either, meaning he must be completely taken in.

It's a pretty convincing dream, not gonna lie. The mansion outdid itself.

Now, what more could a man want than to have his movie date interrupted by an obnoxious American? Dean cracks his knuckles. It's time to go all-out.]

Philip LaFresque?

[Cue the friendly bat to Philip's shoulder and a broad grin that says Dean knows exactly what he's talking about.]

Fancy seein' you here! It's been ages, man, how've you been?

[Oh yeah. He is freakin' velvety smooth.]

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ The fine-looking woman takes a startled step to the side and Philip freezes while offering a reaction that can be very accurately summed up like this: ]

?!?!?!

[dashboardlite]

It's me, Dean! Dean Winchester! Man, you will not believe how good it is to see you!

[He contributes a good-natured laugh and doles out another hearty clap to the shoulder Philip wounded before he came back from Greenland. Sometimes these things get through to the person beneath the dream's surface.

Sometimes.]

I feel like it's been years, we should-

[He "catches sight" of the woman that had delivered Philip his movie treats. Dean smiles his most charming smile and nudges Phil's side.]

You sly dog, you didn't tell me you got together with a beautiful lady! How long've you two been dating?

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ After hearing the introduction with his mouth agape three things jump to Philip's mind immediately:
1. ?!?!?!
2. ?!?!?!
and 3. ?!?!?!

He voices his doubts as follows: ]

Dean! Christ, I almost didn't-- It's so good to see you!

[ Offering a pat on Dean's arm in return Philip takes a step aside to resume Generic Introduction Position 1c. ]

That's, um-- Valerie, that's Dean. Dean, Valerie - we met New Year's Eve at... at Joseph's party?

[ Subtitle: '...in case you know/remember Joseph which I can't rightly say because I HAVE NO IDEA WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE'.

(His other friends, already sensing that more accurate introductions won't be happening, excuse themselves to warm the seats and/or get more snacks. Val herself smiles politely if somewhat matchingly ?!?!?! at meeting somebody who, quite frankly, really does not seem like the kind of person Philip would befriend. Sober, that is.) ]

So- so, um... what- what brings you here?

[dashboardlite]

Pleasure's all mine.

[He smiles at the hot chick again - Valerie, was it? Huh. - and turns back to beam brightly at Philip.]

Yeah, yeah, y'know, I was just in town on a business trip-

[Never mind the fact that Dean hates flying.]

-thought I'd go see a scary movie-

[Never mind the fact that Dean hates flying.]

-and I ran into you! Funny how things work out, huh?

[Funny, yes, but finagling his way out of this one with Philip intact is going to be a bit tricky, especially if his arm-candy keeps hanging around.]

But, uh, now that I think about it, I had the the most hilarious - I mean, real good, not even kiddin' - story to tell you,

[Dean grins at Valerie apologetically.]

D'you mind if I steal him for a coupla minutes? Won't be long 'fore you'll have 'im back.

[sadfreezingbrit]

Erm, we--

[ ...were about to make up some excuse, but alas, it looks like Val is in the mood to grant the two boys their playtime and excuses herself to freshen up.

Philip is left standing alone, smiling awkwardly at Mister Dean Winchester. ]

All right. So, hey, um, how-- How is... business?

[ And what is business, WHAT?! ]

[dashboardlite]

Ahhh well, the family business is still boomin'. My brother and I took over, so it's been a little rocky, but we're good now, yeah. Real good. You know the motto: "saving people, hunting things..."

[He nods blithely for a moment, hand resting on Philip's shoulder, watching Valerie disappear in the women's restroom. Right. Now to the real business.]

So what's different in your life, huh? 'Sides the girlfriend, I mean, I know we talked about dads once - how's yours?

[Assessing the change comes first. Then the remedy.]

Any weird dreams lately? Nightmares?

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ It's all right, Philip can get through this act, he just has to pretend he knows what is going on when this Dean talks about-- wait, what? And what? ]

All right, wait.

[ A very deep sigh. ]

I have a confession to make.

[ He'll just have to accept that bit of embarrassment and take solace in the fact that nobody else is around to witness it. ]

I... I honestly can't remember who you are or where we've met, I'm-- I'm really sorry.

[dashboardlite]

[At least he's admitted to it, now.]

...okay, I'm gonna level with you, buddy.

[Time to pull out all the stops. And by "stops" we mean "fake IDs." Dean withdraws his and offers it for Philip's scrutiny. Yes, the narration says. We know it's a very good forgery, and it always helps to keep one on you at all times.]

I work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

[Suddenly, he's utterly serious.]

The name's Agent Page - Winchester's an alias. Listen, Mister LaFresque, you ever seen the X-Files?

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ Let me guess, James Patrick Page? ...Sadly Philip can't find anything else wrong with the ID, well, not that he'd actually know what to look out for.

He hands it back slowly and keeps staring, a little disappointed that the narration has already used his ?!?!?! credits for the time being. An actual reply it is. ]

FBI. X-Files. Sure.

[ Where on earth is this going? ]