Work Text:
At first, when the lights went out, he had just thought he'd forgotten to change the bulb of his desk lamp. It wasn't the first time he'd burned through a bulb recently, and honestly? It probably wasn't going to be the last with all the books and papers Phillip was reading for his research. Look, something like this took absolute concentration! If you stopped while you're ahead, then you'd lose time; time that could be spent rechecking formulas or looking up the latest results of drug tests.
So yeah, a bulb going out wasn't anything big in the grand scheme of things. It was when he'd turned towards the drawer he held extras in that Phillip had noticed something was... off. It was darker than it usually was around this time. He should have been able to use the light of the streetlamp across the road to see the drawer's handle - it's why he decided to put his desk close to the window instead of his bed. Instead though, it was almost pitch black. As if the entire room had suddenly been dipped into an inkwell.
He was already starting to suspect what had happened... but he needed to check. There were always multiple answers to a problem, until you did your research to narrow it down. Every scientist knew that.
So, taking care not to slam his leg into the side of his desk, Phillip got up and opened the window...
Only to see every building down to the docks were dark.
"...Goddamnit." There was a blackout going on.
[thud]
The severity of the event didn't hit him immediately. He was more annoyed that he couldn't continue his research into recent discoveries made in terminal illnesses.
[Thud]
Why couldn't this have happened during the day! Goddamnit, this is going to eat up so much of my time. Was the first thing Phillip had thought. He hadn't bought any candles recently - not since he knocked the last one onto some important documents in his exhaustion. It took him forever to get more copies of those research papers, hence why he stopped using them. Now, he was regretting that. Maybe Howard would...
[Thud]
Howard.
[Thud thud thud-!
It hit him just as his door was thrown open.
A figure stood in the doorframe, one hand still holding onto the doorknob. In the other, they held an electric tea candle close to themselves as if it was a holy cross keeping devils at bay.
For anyone else, seeing a silhouette in the darkness of their doorframe would make them rightly assume they were being robbed. Phillip knew better though.
This wasn't the first time this had happened after all.
It wasn't even the second, or the third.
This happened every. Single. Blackout. And yet... like every time before this, he froze as Howard stood in the doorway.
The frenzied look of his friend's eyes was intensified by the flickering of the fake candle. He could see Howard's pupils erratically move around the bedroom, seeking out his target. His breath was starting to come out in short wheezes the longer he went without seeing Phillip.
Stumbling further into the room, his friend held the fake candle further away in an attempt to illuminate the area around him... only to quickly bring it's dim bulb back.
It seemed his friend couldn't even stand the barest hint of shadow touching him tonight. And yet, despite his fear Howard started his circle around the room, crouching down to start looking through Phillip's closet. It would take him a while to get to this side of the room if he was being this thorough.
...Maybe he could hide before then?
Phillip slowly moved towards the desk, hoping that maybe if he hid beside it Howard would assume he had left before the blackout. It had worked once before, he still wasn't sure exactly why; however, what was important was it had worked. And Howard had a better light then. A nice, sturdy flashlight that had... mysteriously disappeared a week later.
But that didn't matter right now. All he had to do was move at the right mome-
Creak~
Howard's head turned so quickly he thought he heard something crack. His eyes looked even more hysterical than they had earlier as they shot towards the window. Phillip didn't even get the chance to move -
Howard's sight had already been set on him; the moment he heard him.
He took a step forward, his eyes never leaving Phillip who in turn had taken a step back. He went to take another... only he couldn't. His back bumped into the window frame and in terror he realized he was trapped. Like a minnow in a barrel with a piranha.
Howard was faster than he was. Even when they were kids, he could never outmaneuver his friend. He was stronger... but he didn't want to hurt him. He knew Howard wasn't an actual threat - he was Howard! His best friend: you don't hurt your friends. The only thing he could try was to talk him down, but years of experience told him that wouldn't work either.
He tried anyway. "Howa- Howard! Hey, it's okay. You don't need to do this. There's nothing here, you're okay. I am fine; I am safe - I am working do not-!"
It was a lost cause. Howard didn't stop; no, he seemed to only move faster now that he knew that Phillip truly was in front of him. With strength he only saw during these tenebrous nights, Howard grasped onto his arm and dug his nails into Phillip's sleeve as if he was trying to imitate a bear trap. Hopefully he didn't bleed this time.
With startling speed that left Phillip stumbling as he tried to keep up, the man pulled him away from his room. Before he could even blink they went through the living room, and he was all but thrown onto the other's bed.
...He's painted more of the room than last time I was in here, was the first thing Phillip noticed. Dozens of hand painted green stars littered the walls haphazardly, mostly congregating around the doorways and window. In some spots he didn't even try making stars - it seemed he had just thrown the paint based on how the phosphorescent light trailed down in some spots.
For how impulsive Howard could be, he was meticulous about certain things - his research, his writing, and especially his room. It concerned Phillip to see how carelessly he had done this.
Maybe they should have another talk soon.
He continued to look around, searching for anything else out of order. But besides the paint and some papers that fell in what he assumed was Howard's haste to find him, everything was fine.
His bookshelf was in order next to the window, its contents meticulously organized by subject save for a few sitting on top of the short shelf for easy access. Both his desk and reading chair sat where they should be. In the latter was a massive owl he'd given to Howard as a gag gift for Christmas years ago, faintly glowing as well.
His friend started to rummage through his closet, lit by the paint circling the doors (...didn't he have a candle earlier?). He pulled out boxes upon boxes, opening them before frowning upon seeing papers or books. Each failure caused him to grow more upset and start shoving the boxes away when they didn't have what he wanted.
Phillip didn't try helping him though - Howard would just get perturbed if he did. He had his own system (even if he forgot it on nights like these) and felt it was best if he handled it. And by 'it' Phillip actually meant 'everything.' From fixing the lights to checking the room - for what Phillip wasn't sure - Howard was the only one who could do it. It's things like this that made blackouts feel so long. And it would feel longer if Phillip couldn't work! "Hey Howard."
"Hmm?" His friend wasn't paying any attention, finally having located his box of candles. That was good for him, it meant maybe he could step out for a second without Howard freaking out.
"If I'm going to stay, I'd like to finish up my reading. So, I'm just gonna grab my research notes really quick-"
"No!" He jumped up, knocking the prized box onto the floor and causing his candles to scatter. "No - no way! Why do you want that; why can't you stay?!"
"Howard I'm not leaving forever, it's just to get some things from my room. Please, I'm so close to a breakthrough in my research! It'll only be a minute - I'll be right back, I promise." And Phillip meant it!
Howard just... stared at him.
And kept staring. It was unnerving honestly: usually Phillip could read his friend like a book. But for a moment...
For just a moment it felt like he was looking at a stranger.
The moment passed just as quickly as it came, with Howard finally looking away.
"Okay... you can go." Before Phillip could run, his friend pointed towards the window where his reading chair was. "But take him with you - he's got an excellent glow."
...
He didn't mean the owl... right? But Phillip didn't see anything else there that Howard could be talking about. "Howard, that thing-"
"Albright."
"...Albright... is four fucking feet long! I'm not dragging him to my room to get some books."
"But you hate my candles and tea lights! You need something that'll light up these horrid nights!"
...This is ridiculous, Phillip couldn't help himself from thinking. He didn't say it though; it wouldn't get him anywhere. All it would do was make Howard metaphorically puff up his feathers more.
Howard was usually stubborn yes, but it ramped up to worrying degrees when his scotophobia came into play. It had only gotten worse over the years no matter what either of them did.
He knew it wasn't something he should be feeding... but.
But at this point, what else was he supposed to do?
...Goddamnit. Once again, that fuckin gag gift bit him in the ass. "I want you to know I hate every minute of this."
His friend didn't even get the chance to respond as he stormed to the chair and snatched the toy up... or at least attempted to. The dramatics of the action were severely ruined by the fact that a) it was too big to properly snatch up and b) it was a toy owl. Still though, he hoped maybe some way, somehow his friend would gain some sense...
He didn't. Howard had already turned away towards the box he pulled out earlier and started to light candles.
...Phillip should've expected that. He pushed through the doorway, not noticing his friend pausing to look back at him.
Entering his room, Phillip... admittedly didn't beeline to his desk like he told Howard he was planning. The first thing he did (after setting the owl down), was check around the room for the candle he remembered his friend had been holding earlier. He hadn't seen it when Howard was searching his closet so there was a chance that he'd lost it when he ran at Phillip. If that was the case then he wanted to find it before it became a problem. The chance of it starting a fire were minimal, but if he stepped on it...
Yeah. He'd rather avoid an ER visit for something that stupid.
He started searching underneath the bed first, since things liked rolling underneath there. It wasn't there surprisingly - he was honestly expecting it to be. He knelt down and looked around the closet, but it wasn't there either. Am I just being paranoid? Maybe he did have... it...
...
There it was. He could see it's faint light from where he was, lighting up a spot between his desk and the window.
How ironic.
He crossed the room and picked it up. It barely lit up more than the hands that cupped it. And yet, Howard had used it to light his way over here, knowing he had brighter candles in his closet. Was it the first thing he saw... or did he choose it because he remembered how Phillip had gotten rid of his own candles after that small fire?
...
He stood there, looking down at the flickering light held between his hands.
...He cared about Howard, he really did. But there were times he didn't understand him. He felt terrible admitting that - weren't you supposed to understand your best friend? Shouldn't you be able to pinpoint why they do things? To be able to recognize how to help them at a glance?
But he just. Didn't. No matter what he did, he couldn't comprehend so many pieces that made up Howard. He didn't know why Howard feared the dark so deeply it tainted his room. And he didn't know how to help.
A fucking battery powered imitation of a tealight was better at helping his best friend than he was.
And that hurt more than where his fingernails dug into Phillip's skin.
He went over to his desk, deposited his newly acquired tealight on top of it (turned off of course), and started working on sorting through the papers on it.
He organized his current research into two groups: ones that could stay at the desk till tomorrow and ones that he'd take to Howard's room. There weren't that many in the second pile honestly. Blackouts usually didn't last that long around here and even if it did... well he could just grab more of them in the morning. With that in mind and everything sorted he grabbed the second stack, his journal, and some pens. He held these against his chest using one arm. With his other he maneuvered Albright till he was behind and and bunched his hand around the owl's fake fur, pulling him back towards Howard's room.
As he re-entered, he couldn't help but compare it to a church's altar room.
The sickly green phosphorescent light had faded to the edges of the room as dozens of candles - both firelit and electric - had taken over. Everything from his bookshelf to the windowsill had a few scattered across their flat surfaces. In some spots like his nightstand, he hadn't even put away the papers before adding the lights (though luckily, Howard did have the common sense to put the electric ones on those instead of regular candles. ...Phillip was still going to turn them off before he fell asleep though, just to be safe)
Howard was laying down in his bed and staring at the ceiling. The faint wheeze he had gained earlier had finally faded, though Phillip couldn't be sure if he had fully calmed down from this angle.
...He tossed Albright at his friend, earning a squawk of surprise and Howard wriggling out from underneath his supposed attacker - only to discover that it was just his owl. Upon this realization he moved it so it was sitting against the headboard. He continued to fuss with its placement as Phillip made his way towards his friend's desk.
He noticed, and appreciated, that Howard had put a decent number of the electric candles on it. He'd even moved his own research to his nightstand so that Phillip could continue working. It was... probably the closest thing to an apology he was getting tonight.
"Thanks Howard I'm... I'm gonna work on my research some more. I'm not tired just yet." He probably wasn't going to be for a while - between his still lingering anger and well... everything that had happened he had a feeling it'd take him a few hours to grow exhausted.
He started setting up the desk how he liked it, placing his journal towards the left and his pens on the right near his hand. After that he started shuffling through papers in an attempt to find which one he left off on. He was pretty sure it was "Your Body's Disease Control," but it could've been "Disease's Grip on the Body" consider-
"I'm... sorry, Phillip."
...
Huh. Miracles can happen any time he supposed.
...He could just accept it. Ignore the elephant in the room and continue on as if nothing happened.
But... did he want to?
"Howard, this." He paused, swallowing back harsher words he knew he'd regret. Instead, he turned just enough to look his best friend in the eye and whispered. "This is getting out of hand, Howard. You're letting your scotophobia control you again."
Howard sat up, frowning. "I... I know. And I don't mean to be disconcert. I just- I just don't want you to get hurt!"
"By what, Howard? We're home, there's nothing here besides us."
As always, Howard didn't answer. He wrapped his arms around his legs and looked away, but Phillip couldn't tell if it was out of embarrassment or distress.
Just like every other time they'd done this song and dance.
Phillip turned back to the papers he'd been reading just a few minutes ago. Subconsciously he had started to clench the papers in his hands, creasing them to the point they were close to tearing.
...
He let them, and the conversation go.