Philip (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sadfreezingbrit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2012-02-18 09:24 pm
sadfreezingbrit) wrote in entranceway2012-02-18 09:24 pm
[ACTION] I heard that your dreams came true...
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! ]
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.
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! ]
no subject
[That's a bald-faced lie, actually, because Dean would hunt down the source the same way the real Philip did, but if he's going to drag a delusional Philip out of his own dreamscape, he has to get him to trust him, first.]
Had you not burned them, what would you have done?
no subject
I don't, um...
[ ...rightly know where this line of questioning is going. ]
I would have handed them over if I'd known they were part of an ongoing investigation!
[ Because that is where this is going, right? ]
no subject
[Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, wondering precisely where he's supposed to go from here. Getting Philip to sit down and talk was easy enough, but getting him to go into the men's bathroom? Where Dean came from?
Might be a little hard.]
We keep everything locked up nice 'n tight, I don't blame you. Investigations like this aren't widely publicized.
[Or at all. Ever.
He might have to go out on a limb, though. Really stretch this for all it's worth. There might be a scrap of Philip that remembers something.]
In your father's letter, did he mention something called Wonderland? Or It's A Wonderful Life?
[Keyword "wonder." Nice going there, Dean-o, making connections like that. Kill two birds with one stone and see if the fish bites.]
no subject
And wait, code names? Really? ]
What's Lewis Carroll and James Stewart got to do with a secret government project? [ A brief chuckle. ] Sorry. Sorry, no. No, um... nothing like that.
[ A beat.
And another. ]
It's... [ He laughs incredulously. ] You know, I just saw that film for the first time last Christmas, but I'll be damned if I could actually remember how it ended.
[ He shakes his head. Rubs his temple briefly. Looks back at Dean. ]
Right. Right, that's not exactly to the point, anyway. There was nothing like that in the letter and nothing in the notes as far as I remember, but most of them weren't even in English anyway.
no subject
Totally.]
Can't say I'm not surprised - it's a pretty memorable movie. Clarence the guardian angel, and everything.
[Hint, hint, wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more.]
As for the letters and notes, that's... [Dean rubs his chin speculatively.] ...that sounds about right. That's 'cause it wasn't in English at all. Or any language we actively know about.
[Why yes, he is bluffing about identifying the symbols. Cookie for you!]
We've got samples from another scientist, but not a lot. Can't make heads or tails of it, but then again - who's to say it's not different from what your father sent you? We don't have anyone who's seen anything else.
[But maybe...just maybe...Philip could look at these "samples."
Clear the air a bit.
Enlighten him.
Agent Page looks at Philip seriously.]
no subject
The language. The symbols. Right. Right. ]
What, um, you... you want me to have a look? I mean, I can't promise I'll be able to tell if it's the same, I didn't really memorise any of it, but uh... I could tell you if- if it looks familiar?
no subject
[Dean claps Philip on the shoulder again. This time his expression says thank God you agreed because I didn't want things to get dirty.]
You do realize, Mister LaFresque, that these are confidential papers and you will be held accountable for any information leaking to the general public should word get out about a top-secret research facility in Greenland.
[A reassuring, toothless smile.]
But that's a standard disclaimer, something you would've had to go over with me later anyway. I like you, Phil. You're a stand-up guy, but I don't think you want to be seen signing a consultation agreement form for the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation in the middle of a Cineplex in broad daylight.
[Leaning to one side, the agent watches several other patrons filing into darkened theatre. The lobby is fairly empty now, save for the cashiers at the snack-bar registers. He stands.]
I think the men's restroom will do just fine.
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Ah, but then. ]
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What.
Re: 8/8
He knew it wouldn't be this easy. There always has to be a catch. This time, it just happens to be Philip's goddamned cynical eyebrow.]
The men's restroom. [He repeats, as if that makes it any better, and then feigns amusement.] ...Oh, find that weird?
[Dean pulls a Bobby Singer with a warm smile.]
Well, perhaps you would like to explain to HQ in Washington D.C. why Agent Page couldn't follow the necessary protocol for a spontaneous interview and consultation in an unsecured establishment?
[Hm?]
Given the plainclothes, Mister LaFresque, we may seem a bit lax, but I assure you that our regulations are just as strict as any other government organization. Or would you like me to cite some code at you?
[Oh snap, he has still got it.]
no subject
[ It's a mechanism Philip employs often and well, shelving unpleasant truths away until the storage rack collapses and he's forced to look at every oddity closely.
A crack and the shelves are gone. Philip crosses his arms. ]
And I'd also like to know why this is supposed to be a proper location in the first place or how you even knew I'd be here.
no subject
If I disclosed my sources, I'd have to kill you.
[Another wry smile.]
Protocol requires that an agent move to a more private locale in the event that information concerning the translation of foreign texts is involved. Standard procedure.
no subject
He takes a step away from the agent. ]
I doubt a public bathroom even remotely qualifies as a 'more private locale'.
[ Another step. A beat. ]
...Show me the documents. [And before you even start with this being a public area... ] Because it doesn't look like your plainclothes make for a good compartment.
no subject
Dean does some quick math. It's not a subject he's even been really good at, but strategizing a fight is his forte, and planning the right steps to this dance isn't that hard should worse come to worst.
Philip is decently strong. Not enough to hold up against Dean in a fight, but enough to land a good couple of punches, probably. A cornered animal will fight like a demon. As Philip steps out, Dean steps in.]
Who do you think you're talking to, exactly? We're not the Men In Black, not everything is sharp suits and briefcases. The restroom, Mister LaFresque.
[He's starting to feel twitchy for a preemptive strike.]
no subject
...There are new thoughts, worrying thoughts about who the hell this guy really is and what he wants from him, given that Philip can't imagine any scam artist being privy to the things he knew.
But that's only part two of the equation. Part one is getting the hell out. ]
You know what, I'm sorry for making you wait, [ A step back. He really isn't. ] but I'm sure you'll find something in your protocol to justify putting this off until Monday. [ Step. ] In my office. [ Step. ] Which I have no doubt you'll be able to locate somehow.
[ Another step.
And a turn.
And the attempt to very briskly make his way into the movie theatre. ]
no subject
The narration would like to note that Plan B is Dean Winchester flying completely by the seat of his pants.
While Philip "moves briskly," Dean moves like a motherfucking man on a mission from God. He blocks the door.]
Sorry, buddy.
[He really, really didn't want it to have to come to this. He says so.]
But I really didn't want it to come to this.
no subject
What- what do you want from me?
[ At the same time the employees of this wonderful theatre are finally jumping into action, one reaching for the telephone, the other approaching the two of them with an urgent 'Um, sir, excuse me--'. ]
no subject
[Dean pulls out his badge again, tosses it to the theatre employee, barking FBI before finishing his reply to Philip.]
-so I'm just gonna tell you that this is basically the Matrix, and you really need to take the Red Pill, Neo. It's time to wake up.
[That's when Dean lunges to grab a handful of Philip's shirt.]
no subject
Oh, right.
Yes, that's a very good and rational argume-- ]
What is wrong with you?
[ Or, you know, not.
(A hasty step back. Philip trying to tear free. The employee rushing to call security.) ]
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