Burn (Barlyle) (COMPLETE)

65

Phillip couldn't walk, not with a gaping wound in his abdomen. So - after convincing a doctor that he and Barnum had been close friends - Charity and the doctor helped the man into a wheelchair, and Charity insisted that she could wheel Phillip down herself.

"Are you sure, ma'am?" the doctor stared at her eyes, swollen from crying, and pale face.

"Yes, please. We'd really rather be alone."

Phillip's heart pounded with every step they took closer to the room in which Barnum

(his body)

laid. His stomach rolled and he had to keep himself from leaning over the side of the chair and getting sick.

A doctor waited for them at the door. He nodded and let them inside.

Phillip's wail was nearly a scream and he had to bite his tongue to keep from getting any louder.

Barnum

(his body)

laid on a table in the center of the room. Phillip could only assume he'd be transported to the morgue once they left, but there was nothing else around them. The walls and floor were bare save for the table.

And what remained of Barnum.

"O-Oh," Phillip gasped. His fingers shook and he reached his hand out. Charity wheeled him closer, but hesitated and drew him back.

"I-I don't," the widow gasped and Phillip realized she was crying. Her tears were just as silent as she'd been. "I don't k-know if we can...get closer."

"Please," Phillip whispered.

Charity hesitated another moment longer and Phillip looked back - twisting his body, his wound screaming in protest - in time to see her glance back at the door. Tears were on her cheeks when she turned back around.

They inched closer.

Bile rose in Phillip's throat. He felt like any second now, Barnum would sit up. Sit up and laugh, tell them it was all a joke. He wasn't dead, he was just pretending. It was magic.

(the magic of the circus)

But Barnum did not sit up.

With another gasp, Phillip realized he could reach out and touch him now, if he wanted to. Charity froze up again and refused to get any closer.

Breath coming out in gasps, Phillip reached out. Touched Barnum's hair, stroked it.

Perhaps it was only his imagination, but it didn't seem as soft as before.

Tears fell from his eyes when he realized that Barnum's lips were the faintest hint of blue. His skin was still warm, but it was cooling - it would be much too cold to touch without recoiling soon.

Phillip's body rattled with sobs. He reached out and touched Barnum's hand, flinching slightly. He wrapped his warm hand around the stiff fingers, whimpering when the man didn't squeeze back. The hand was dead in his.

"Oh, Phineas," Charity cried. She finally took a step forward and placed a hand upon his forehead. Bending down, she pressed her lips to his forehead and squeezed her eyes shut.

Phillip wanted to stand up. He wanted to kiss Barnum goodbye as Charity did, peer down at his face - though his eyes had been closed - one more time, in private, before the memorial service and dealing with other people. He wanted - he wanted to tell the ringmaster he loved him one more time in private, without fear of public backlash.

Trembling all over, legs shaking almost too badly to support himself, Phillip Carlyle forced himself to his feet. Charity gasped, but said nothing as he stumbled forward - hand pressing against his abdomen - and peered down at Barnum's face.

White flashes of pain crossed his eyes and Phillip gasped. He stumbled back and Charity helped him into his chair.

"Let's go," she murmured.

"I - I - I—" Phillip gasped. He couldn't speak, could barely even see between his swollen eye and the white dots dancing in front of his vision.

Phillip's stomach twisted again. He felt woozy, felt that familiar sensation of wanting to throw up creep back upon him.

They closed the door on Phineas Barnum one last time.

Okay so! I've never been to a viewing of a body at a hospital, but I've been to funerals and private viewings and such - the last one being in 2016, so fairly recent. I don't think you ever forget the feeling of kissing a deceased person's forehead sooooooooooo I kind of based the experience on that.