Beren (beren_writes) wrote,

Fic:Running the Wrong Way, P:tL, Philip/Nick, PG13

Title: Running the Wrong Way
Author: Beren
Fandom: Poltergeist the Legacy
Pairing: Philip/Nick
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, I do not own any of the characters from Poltergeist the Legacy and no money is being made from this fiction.
Warnings: none
Summary: Philip realises the mistake he made a long time ago.
Author's Notes: For taibhrigh who's request was simply Poltergeist the Legacy. I wrote in P:tL fandom a very long time ago and this is a blast from the past. Of course I was a het writer back then ::g::.
Word count: 1,183

Philip staggered towards the door of the Legacy house, hand clamped to the wound in his side. It was strange, that now, so close to death, everything was clear and he was not reaching for God, he was reaching for something far more corporeal. It took facing his own mortality so completely to realise what had been staring him in the face the entire time. He didn't really remember how he had made it to the island, the past few hours were a blur, but as he collapsed into strong, warm arms he finally understood what he had been running from for so long. His mind closed down with the sure and certain knowledge that he was not running anymore.

"He's stabilised, Nick," were the first words that Philip heard as he swam back to consciousness, "you should rest now."

"I can't," Nick replied, sounding as vehement as ever, "not until I know he's going to be alright."

Philip wanted to open his eyes and tell Nick he was fine, but it seemed to be rather harder than it usually was. Quite frankly he was amazed to be alive; flabbergasted actually, since he had been just about positive his time had been up. The creature had appeared out of nowhere to attack him and it had stabbed him with venom tipped claws; that much it had told him before it had laughed and vanished as quickly as it had come. He had heard it whispering in his mind after that; whispering of death and damnation and that was when he had found himself heading for Angel Island. He remembered his thoughts; the needs that had raged through him and he finally forced his eyes open.

"Nick," he said, his voice thick and weak, but the name sounding out nonetheless.

"Philip," Nick answered him, leaning over into his field of vision and blocking out everything else.

Urgent fingers wound into his hand and he gripped back as well as he could. It was so difficult to keep his eyes open, to look up at the worried face above him, but he forced his body to obey him. He wasn't really sure what he was looking for, what he needed to see, but it was there, deep in Nick's eyes and in his muddled mind it was enough. He slipped back into darkness content that everything was right even though he wasn't quite sure why.


The second time he woke he was in pain and he could not stop the pitiful moan that wormed its way from his throat.

"Philip," Nick was almost instantly leaning over him again, a hand still in his and fingers gently pushing damp hair off his forehead.

He was seeing the world through a kind of fog, everything was unclear, everything except Nick. For some reason where the rest of the room was fuzzy and out of focus, Nick's features were right there as clear as ever. His mind was playing tricks, he was sure, but all he could focus on was Nick.

"I'll get help," Nick told him as he stared up, unable to hide his pain.

He tried to respond, but he coughed instead as he found his voice very reluctant to work, but what he had wanted to say was 'don't go', and the sound kept Nick at his side. The whispers in his mind were still there, but they were dim when he looked at Nick.

"I'm sorry," he managed to croak out.

"Ssh," Nick told him, no longer trying to leave to get someone else, "don't talk; you'll only hurt yourself."

"I'm sorry," Philip repeated since he needed Nick to understand; needed it more than anything else.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Nick said, trying to smile at him as if he was being an idiot; "although you could have at least tried not to get hurt."

Nick was making a joke out of the situation, but this was nothing like a joke and Philip had to make him see. He shook his head and looked Nick directly in the eye.

"I'm sorry I ran," he said, knowing that every word was taking away more of his strength. "Ellen, the Church, everything; I never realised I was always running."

Now Nick's expression was serious and a little confused.

"I'm sorry I ran from us," Philip said with the last of his strength.

It hurt to talk and it hurt to breathe, but he saw recognition in Nick's eyes and he knew he had been understood. The one moment they had shared had been so long ago and so brief, but Philip could tell that Nick had not forgotten it any more than he had. One moment of weakness when they had both let their masks fall away at the same time, one moment when Philip had forgotten everything but Nick. It had changed both of them and Philip was pretty sure Nick had been as scared by it as he had been, but he didn't want to die with this unsaid. It was against the doctrines he had been taught so well, but if he was going to meet his maker, he was going to meet him true to himself.

"I love you," he said and then he lost his tentative grip on reality and began to slip back into the oblivion of unconsciousness.

"Philip," he heard Nick say, "Philip. Don't you dare try and die on me, not after saying something like that."


When he regained consciousness again, Philip was actually quite surprised; he really hadn't expected to see the light of day again. He felt oddly itchy in various places on his body and it took lifting his hand and seeing a rather strange design there in something that was dirty brown to realise why. Clearly he had missed a great deal, but his head felt clearer and, although his side was aching, he wasn't in a huge amount of pain. He also discovered very quickly that he was not alone as he found himself being loomed over by Nick.

"Do you remember waking up last time?" was the first question.

He nodded; that was the one thing that was very clear in his mind.

"Did you mean it?" was the next enquiry.

Without hesitation he nodded again and he watched all sorts of tension flow out of Nick.

"Good," his companion said and took his face in both hands, "because if you think I'm letting you get away again, you had better think twice."

And then Philip found himself being kissed very firmly. He would have kissed back if he hadn't been quite so shocked and before he could say anything Nick had made one of his infamous dramatic exits. Philip was left lying there trying to figure out what the hell had just happened and wondering how much he had missed, but that didn't stop the little smile that crept onto his face. His life as he knew it was over, of that much he was very sure, but that little smile just wouldn't go away.

The End
Tags: category: slash, fandom: polt - the legacy, fictype: 01-3kwds, fictype: oneshot, pairing: ptl - philip/nick, rating: g to pg13

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