Caring Phineas - Tumblr Posts

So for the Greatest Showman: I have this thing with P.T. being a sort of, kind of father figure to Phillip. So maybe P.T.'s going to a show a few months after Phillip's taken over, and Phillip is clearly unwell but still trying to push through for a sold-out show, and P.T. kind of assesses his condition and tends to him backstage after? (It's been a HOT minute since I've watched the movie, but Phillip Whump is A+) Also, only write this if you want, of course! ily!

I love this prompt!  I almost couldn’t wait to write it, ily too!

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It almost made Phineas jealous with how often Phillip’s shows sold-out.  He knew he and Phillip had built quite the empire of acts from around the world, and with Phillip at the helm, the circus was growing bigger and more acclaimed every week it seemed.  The newest faces on the posters, two sword swallowers who could swallow a foot-long sword and spit it out without harming himself, were debuting today, so Phineas found himself on the train to see the circus, with Charity’s blessing, saying she’d wanted some mother-daughter bonding time with their girls.  But, as was his habit from his ringleader days, he still showed up early to help.  He said his hellos, and entered the mostly empty tent where he found Phillip up on the trapeze shelf, seemingly leaning against the pole.

“Need any help up there, Phillip?”  Phineas called up, already getting his feet on the ladder.

Phillip didn’t answer him, which was odd but not unheard of.  Phillip would sometimes get so invested in his work that his ears just stopped working.

So he tried again.  “Phillip, is there anything you need? Anything I can get you?”

Still no answer.

Phineas didn’t think anything of it, approaching the trapeze pedestal board with ease.  He found Phillip nearly slumped over, with the pole keeping him upright.  His face was flushed as he was panting, seemingly exhausted, and his hands shook as he was trying to rethread the trapeze wires.

“Phillip?”

His voice startled the young man.

“PT!  Hi. Didn’t hear you coming up.” Phillip’s voice was strained, rough. His eyes were a little bloodshot, and sweat beaded at his forehead.

“You alright?”  Phineas asked, concern slipping into his voice.

“I’m fine, PT, just didn’t sleep that long last night.” Phillip dismissed.  “I was up too late trying to get everything done.  You remember what that’s like.”

Phineas sighed.  “I really do. Need any help?”

“I can’t get this wire tied right.”  Phillip admitted.  “Usually W.D. or Anne can take care of it, but I’ve got W.D. on helping with the elephants since two of the trainers are out sick and Anne’s helping out Lettie and the girls with their make-up and I thought I could get these wires tied while they were doing that and I just can't.”

Phineas nearly snickered but didn’t want his apprentice feeling like he was laughing at him.  Phineas easily sideswiped Phillip on the platform and Phillip moved to allow Phineas access to the wires. With a practiced ease, Phineas tied the wires to the platform tightly and correctly.

“Come on, let’s head down.”  Phineas said once he was done.  “You don’t look too good, kid.”

“I'm fine, PT.”  Philip groaned in annoyance.  “I'll get some good sleep tonight.”

“If you say so.”  Phineas acquiesced.

They made their way down the ladder, with Phineas going first and Phillip slowly following after.

“This should be the last of it, PT.”  Phillip said.  “At least the last of the stuff I know how to do.  I've got to go and change, why don’t you grab your seat and wait for showtime?”

“Trying to get rid of me already, kid?”  Phineas teased, his hand moving of its own accord to ruffle Phillip’s hair.

Phillip dodged easily, laughing lightly.  “Always, old man.  I'll see you after the show.”

Phineas nodded, and left for his usual spot on the benches, where he had the best view of the show in his opinion.  The show would be starting soon, and the benches would be filled with throngs of people waiting for the incredulity of the circus.

It was Phillip's first near fall where Phineas first noticed it. It was a small slip, one the audience had no idea was a misstep, but Phineas saw it clear as day.  It was an easy step, one he'd rehearsed with Phillip a dozen times over but Phillip struggled, as if his body couldn’t keep up with his muscle memory.  Phineas then zeroed in on Phillip nearly the entire show, forcing himself to look at the new acts he'd come all this way to see, but his thoughts couldn’t help but drift back to Phillip.  He knew the tells, he'd done them himself, of a performer who wasn’t up to performing but was still pushing on.  He saw Phillip cough into his jacket as the audience’s attention was drawn elsewhere, saw his feet struggle to move to the choreography he knew Phillip would know asleep, and saw him leaning far too heavily on the spat he used as ringmaster.

It was the smiles that bothered Phineas most though.  Ever since recruiting him, Phineas saw how much Phillip loved performing.  The joy that exuded from the young man often brought delight to anyone who saw him dance, the lilt in his voice causing anyone who heard it want to sing out with him and garble any lyrics they didn’t know, and his smile was a blinding, infectious smile that grabbed your attention and wouldn’t let go until the last curtain call.  But Phineas didn’t see those smiles tonight, he saw the fake ones Phillip used when talking about his , how he spoke about the plays he wrote under the influence of several different kinds of alcohol, how he spoke when his father somehow ended up coming up.  It was a smile he had learned was hiding so much pain Phineas could hardly bear it.

When the last note hit, the audience already jumping up in their seats, screams and applause deafening the area, Phillip seemed to be panting like he’d just carried an elephant on his back.  On instinct, Phineas was on his feet, his hands clapping together like his life depended on it, but he couldn’t stop staring at Phillip.  He seemed out of breath, muffling coughing that didn’t appear to stop, and his whole body looked like it was shaking. An untrained eye would confuse it for the adrenaline of the show but Phineas knew better.  Phillip never shook after a show.

As the people started to head out once the applause died down, and Phillip encouraged them to visit the stalls and sellers on their way out, encouraged them to come again to see something new every night, that Phineas started to make his way to Phillip.  Phillip must not have seen him coming because he turned to Anne, and gave her an excuse he couldn’t hear, and immediately made his way to their office.

He could hear the cough before he opened the door, deep and wet. He opened the door to find Phillip on one knee, struggling to keep himself upright by holding onto the desk with white knuckles, an overused handkerchief pressed against his mouth.

“Oh, Phillip.”  He knelt next to the boy.  Phineas gently rubbed circles into his back, trying to soothe Phillip's irritated lungs. He noticed an unnatural heat seeping into his fingers, and he placed a hand on Phillip’s forehead.

“You're burning up!”  Phineas shouted.  “Why didn’t you say anything?  I could’ve gone on tonight.”

Phillip opened his mouth to try and answer but only more coughing came out.

“You didn’t know the new steps.”  Phillip finally gasped out, his eyes wet with unshed tears.  “No time to teach you.  Show sold-out.  Couldn’t postpone the debut.”

He bit back another reply about improvising but the long conversation about how them being partners to share fifty-fifty of the business meant allowing Phineas to take over when Phillip wasn’t feeling well would have to wait. Phillip was certainly in no condition for it now.

“Come on, let’s get you to the couch.”  Phineas said, hauling the young man into his arms, half-walking, half-carrying Phillip to the couch.

Phillip groaned as he sank into the cushions.  “’M sorry.  Didn’t mean to worry you.”

Phineas sighed, pouring Phillip a glass of water from the desk pitcher. It was a bit warm from being in the heated office but warm water was better than no water at all.

“Drink up, Phil.”  Phineas pressed the glass into Phillip’s hands.  Phillip's hand shook as he raised the glass to his lips but he managed a few sips without spilling.

With the practiced ease of raising two children, Phineas managed to get Phillip out of his sweaty ringmaster’s jacket and undershirt, undid his belt and removed his shoes.  Phineas then took the water pitcher and brought out his own small handkerchief, Charity had just done laundry, so it was nice and clean though it wasn’t very big. He dipped the handkerchief in the pitcher, and wrung it out.

Phineas then pulled the chair from behind the desk to sit beside him, unable to fight the urge to run his hands through Phillip’s hair like he would with his own daughters.  Phillip's eyes fluttered, and his entire body appeared to relax a bit.

“Feels good.”  Phillip slurred, seemingly halfway to sleep until a harsh coughing fit ripped through him. “Ugh, I feel like an elephant stepped on my chest.”

Phineas frowned.  “How long have you been coughing?”

“Couple ‘a days.”  Phillip replied after another sip of water.  “Didn’t think it would get so bad.”

“Did you fall?”  Phineas asked quickly, trying to check the boy for hidden injuries.  Of course Phillip would push himself too far for the circus, of course he wouldn’t tell anyone he was sick,

Phillip shook his head just as quickly, though he didn’t open his eyes.  “No, woke up with the cough.”

Phineas sighed in relief, falling back in the chair.  If Phillip had fallen, he could have had broken ribs. Against his will, his mind showed the boy beside him with a bloody cough, burning with an infection, collapsing when he wasn’t looking, dying because he wasn’t there for him.  So instead of entertaining that image in his head, he focused on mopping the sweat from the young man’s brow, gently brushing his handkerchief across the searing skin.  Phillip moaned at the contact.  Phineas then rewet the handkerchief and folded it, placing it upon Phillip's head.

“You should go home.”  Phillip murmured after a little while.  It nearly startled Phineas, he'd thought the boy had finally fallen asleep.

“I'm not leaving you, Phillip.”  Phineas replaced the wet handkerchief, and cupped Phillip's cheek.  The fever hadn’t gotten worse but he wasn’t entirely certain it had gotten better either.  “Someone needs to look after you and I can handle any circus problem that comes up. Just get some rest, son.”

Phillip didn’t notice his slip, or didn’t comment on it, and Phineas was grateful.  Phillip already had a father, no matter how strained their relationship, and it wasn’t him. Phineas had already nearly lost the title once to his own children, he couldn’t go giving himself the title to another, especially a grown man who could make his own decisions.

But his hand still found his way to Phillip's hair, threading itself with Phillip’s curls.  Phillip gave a small noise of contentment, one he probably wasn’t even aware he made. Phineas couldn’t fight the smile on that one.

They stayed that way until Phillip shivered under Phineas' touch, and he took off the handkerchief.

Wordlessly, (which was a miracle all in itself) Phineas got the spare blanket he knew was still in the side table drawer.  It was a bit old, a bit thinner than what they had for when they needed to sleep on the sofa but that blanket, sewed with love from Lettie to keep them warm on cold nights, was entirely too thick for a fever.  This one was perfect.

He draped it over Phillip's still form, and even though the blanket was threadbare, the young man’s shivering eased.  On instinct, he tucked Phillip in as if he were one of his girls.

“Thanks, Dad.”  Phillip murmured, seemingly dropping off into sleep, his breath evening out.

For a moment, Phineas just stared at him, his body and mind frozen by the simple words Phillip had barely managed to say.  Slowly he sank into the desk chair, his hand dragging across his face.  Phillip could’ve been thinking of his own father, but whenever he spoke of the elder Carlyle Phillip had not given the impression that he was allowed to call his father ‘Dad’, let alone that the man would tuck Phillip in when he was a child, and he did have a fever.  But, in that moment, he decided he didn’t care.  If Phillip even remembered this tomorrow, which was doubtful, they could discuss it then.  For now, Phineas merely leaned down and kissed the top of Phillip's head, eliciting another noise of contentment.

“Goodnight, son.”

Will you please write more Phillip phump for the greatest showman? He's so pretty and I've just fallen head over heels in love with this movie, old as it is. Sorry to hear about work, I hope you stay safe and healthy! Your writing is beautiful and I'm so lucky to have found it! Have a good day ❤

Aw, thank you so much for the compliments, I love you!  I’m so sorry this is a bit late, nonny, but ask and ye shall receive! Here’s a short piece of Phillip getting some whump. Hope this everything you want.

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He wished he could’ve said he noticed it.  He wished he could say that he knew immediately when Phillip started to slip up, that he caught it before it became too bad.  But he couldn’t.  He was too focused on his own problems to notice Phillip’s.  At least, until it was impossible not to.

Rebuilding the circus had been difficult.  Adapting all the routines into the three rings, relearning steps he knew blindfolded to fit with the new terrain, rebuilding all the burnt sets and bleachers, retraining the animals, the list went on.  It was so difficult, that Phineas had simply started sleeping in the office, as it was one of the easiest to rebuild, instead of always going to his in-laws because he would get home so late and have to leave so early in the morning.  Thankfully, Charity understood the need for the long hours to rebuild their life, and only requested him home on weekends, and Phillip could handle two days alone so it was a good compromise.  So every Monday he found himself on a very early train, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and got to work at the circus.

He was surprised to see Phillip already working in the office when he came in.

“Good morning, P.T.”  Phillip said as he opened the door, not once looking up from his paperwork.

“Uh, morning.  Phillip.” Phineas said, surprised that his young appren-partner was already here.  “Did you go home at all last night?”

“Yes, I did.”  Phillip sighed.  “This is from the city.  Apparently, some clerk misplaced our last permit for the animals so I’ve got to do it all over again or we’re going to have problems.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”  Phineas said.  “I could’ve helped.”

“It came after you left for the weekend.”  Phillip said.  “Besides, it’s not anything worth worrying about.  I can handle it.”

“Phillip, it’s just past dawn, it’s far too early for paperwork.” Phineas said, as he sat down in the office, his own pile of paperwork a daunting task he wished he could magic away. “If it’s not worth worrying about, then why are you here so early?”

“I had an idea for a new addition to the opening routine at like three in the morning.”  Phillip chuckled.  “So I decided to just get up, get my paperwork done so I could spend the rest of the day on my new idea.”

“What’s the idea then?”  Phineas asked, knowing the pain of having an idea at way to early in the morning.  Though, those were some of his greatest ones.

“A pulley system.”  Phillip said. “So we can get some of the dancers clear in the air.  If we place them right, the audience won’t see them and it’ll look like they can fly.”

Phineas smiled, loving the idea already.

Thursday, Phillip woke him after slipping into the office very quietly by lighting a candle by his desk.

“Phillip?”  He murmured.

“Oh, I’m sorry, P.T.  I didn’t mean to wake you.”  Phillip whispered, moving the candle so the light wouldn’t bother Phineas.

Phineas had meant to respond, to ask why Phillip was there while everyone else was asleep, but he fell asleep before he could.

Right before he left for home on Friday, he found Phillip asleep at his desk.

“Phillip?  Phillip!” He gently shook the young boy’s shoulders.

Phillip snapped awake.  “Anne!  Where’s Anne? Oh, P.T.”

“I think you need to go home, Phillip.”  Phineas chuckled.  “And take Anne with you, apparently.”

Phillip glared at him.  “It’s not like that.”

“Of course it’s not.”  Phineas winked.  Phillip groaned.  “Go home. Get some sleep.  Can’t have you falling asleep in the middle of rehearsal!”

He’d meant the words as a gentle tease, and quite forgot about them as he headed home.  His mind filled with thoughts of his girls, a nice home-cooked dinner, and a soft, warm bed that had a wonderful, loving wife in it.

So the next Monday, like clockwork, he kissed his sleepy wife goodbye, got on the early train, and headed to the circus.  He missed his girls dearly while he was away, but he needed to start making money so he could buy back their house.  So far, they were on track, but there was always a threat of someone else buying it to spite him, so he had to do what had to be done to give his girls back everything they deserved.

The walk to the circus had always been calming to him.  The sunlight stretched across the city, as if the city itself were slowly waking with him, few people roamed the streets so he could just feel the peace of the early morning.

The light was on in the office.  He frowned.  It wasn’t like Phillip to leave the light on.  He opened the door and found Phillip slumped over his desk with his head in his heads.

“Phillip?”

The boy’s head snapped up, and Phineas then saw the bags underneath his eyes, the tremors in the boy’s hands, the flush in his cheeks, the exhaustion Phillip obviously felt so deep in his bones.

“Oh, Phillip.”  Phineas pulled his chair over to Phillip’s desk.

“I’m fine, P.T.”  Phillip murmured slowly.

The fact that it took Phillip a moment to respond to him reinforced the worry in his mind.

“No, you’re not.”  Phineas whispered.  “Phillip, what’s happened?”

“Nothing.”  Phillip mumbled, rubbing at his red-rimmed eyes.  “Just had a lot of work to do.”

“You were almost done when I left this past weekend.”  Phineas frowned.  “I saw your desk, you didn’t have that much paperwork left.  Too much more paperwork couldn’t have come in over the weekend.”

“Look, P.T. I just didn’t get everything done, okay?”  Phillip snarled at him.

Phineas stared at him.  Phillip rarely got contrary, his proper upbringing prohibiting any outburst of emotion.

“Please, Phillip, talk to me.”  Phineas said, trying his best to sound soothing to the boy.  “You can tell me anything.”

Phillip sighed.  “I know, P.T. I know.  I’m sorry, I guess I’m just a little… irritable today.  It’ll pass.  I’m going to get some more water, all right?  I can make us some coffee, hopefully that’ll help.”

Phineas nodded, and watched with concern as Phillip stood on shaky legs as he put the kettle on to boil.

“Here, I can do that-”

“I don’t need your help, P.T.”  Phillip snapped.  “I’m fine, I can manage on my own.”

Phineas closed his mouth so sharply his teeth clacked together.

“Phillip.”  Phineas said, unable to keep the hurt out of his tone.

Phillip turned to him, remorse already filling his red-rimmed eyes.

“P.T. I’m sorry, I just… I-”

Phillip’s eyelids fluttered dangerously and his body began to sway.

“Phillip?”

Fear gripped his heart as Phillip’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the floor.

“Phillip!”

Phineas was out of his seat in an instant, gently rolling Phillip into his arms.  He shook his shoulders, tapped the boy’s cheek, frowned, then placed his hand across Phillip’s forehead.  He grimaced at the heat radiating off the boy’s skin.  He then gathered up the young man into his arms, with Phillip’s head tucked into his shoulder.

Phillip moaned quietly as Phineas set him on the couch.

“Come on, Phillip, open those eyes for me.”  Phineas muttered.

But Phillip’s eyes remained closed.

Phineas bit his lip, and sighed forcibly.  So he cupped a hand under Phillip’s neck, and pulled him forward so he could get his suit jacket off.  He got him out of his vest and tie, and then unbuckled his suspenders and undid the buttons on his shirt.

“Phin?”  Phillip murmured, staring blearily up at him.  “What’s going on?”

“Here, lay back down.”  Phineas guided the boy back down.  “I was hoping you could tell me why you collapsed with a fever.”

Phillip frowned.  “I didn’t think it had gotten that bad.”

“So there is something wrong?”  Phineas sighed, pulling a chair up to the couch.

Phillip looked away from him.

“Phillip, please.”  Phineas said, unable to push down the urge to thread his fingers in Phillip’s sweaty curls. “Something’s off, has been off for a while. What’s going on?”

“I haven’t been sleeping.”  Phillip unconsciously leaned into Phineas’ fingers.

“For how long?”  Phineas asked.

“Since…”  Phillip trailed off, sheepishly pressing his lips together with a slight tremor, a bit of color tinting his cheeks.

“Since?”  He prompted.

“The fire.”  Phillip admitted, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“The fire!  Oh, Phillip.” Phineas pulled Phillip into a hug, clutching the boy with all he had.

Phillip tried to pull away weakly, but Phineas held him fast and heard a couple choked sobs, as if trying to hold himself back, before the poor boy broke down fully into tears.

“I’m sorry, Phin, I’m so sorry, I try not to let them bother me, I really try, but they keep coming and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get away from them.  I keep dreaming that Anne is trapped and I can’t get to her, or that I can still hear Lettie screaming inside, that W.D. is dead, that Anne is dead, that you’re dead, and I can’t get to you.  I keep dreaming I’m still trapped under that beam, that I’m burning, and I can’t get out.  It feels like every night I’m trapped in that fire, every night I wake up screaming, and I can’t take it!  I just want to be strong, Phin.  Everyone needs me, you need me, and I want to be strong for you but I can’t anymore! Oh God, Phin, I, I, I just want it to stop!”

His heart broke for the child in his arms.  A few tears of his own slipped out as he clutched Phillip to his chest, gently rocking back and forth.  He found himself whispering small comforts, trying his best to reach the crying boy in his arms.  He wasn’t sure how long Phillip cried, but eventually, Phillip’s sobs subsided to shuddering breaths.

“Does Anne know?”  Phineas asked after he was sure Phillip had calmed somewhat.

Phillip shook his head.  “I couldn’t do that to her.  She already blames herself for me getting hurt for going in after her, I can’t hurt her like that.  She’s already been through so much, just for me.  I can’t hurt her again, I just can’t.”

Phineas sighed.  While he could understand Phillip’s situation, it meant Phillip was facing these night terrors alone.  And he wasn’t going to have that.

“Phillip, I need you to know something.”  Phineas said solidly.

“What?”  Phillip looked up at him with a young, heartbroken, tear-stained face and it nearly broke Phineas’ heart again.

“No matter what time it is, no matter when this happens, I need you to know you can come to me.”  Phineas said, and when Phillip opened his mouth to protest, he quickly continued, “No, Phillip, I mean it.  I don’t care what time it is, if you’re going to come here anyway, you’re going to wake me up so I can help you.”

“P.T. I- I can’t-”

“Yes, you can.”  Phineas said. “We’re partners now, remember?  We split everything fifty-fifty.  If you’re not sleeping, I won’t sleep right alongside you.”

Phillip’s eyes welled up with tears again and he ducked his head into Phineas’ shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”  Phillip mumbled.

“It’s alright, son.”  Phineas murmured, dropping a kiss into Phillip’s hair.  “Now I certainly think it’s time for you to get some sleep. Don’t worry about rehearsal today, I’m sure Lettie can handle it for today.”

“Lettie?”  Phillip muttered.  “P.T. you can-”

“I’m not leaving you like this, Phillip.”  Phineas said, allowing his voice to slip into his Dad tone. “You need rest, and you’re ill. The circus can survive without us for a day or two.”

“I… suppose I am tired.”  Phillip whispered, as Phineas gently pushed Phillip back down on the couch.

Phineas couldn’t stop the soft smile across his face at Phillip’s acquiesce.

“Sleep, Phillip.  I’ll be right here.”

Phillip’s eyes fluttered closed, and Phineas began to stroke the young man’s hair once more, watching Phillip’s breath become even.