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Chapter Text

There’s is such a thing as being too in love with something. For Phillip Carlyle that something was the one and only Phineas Taylor Barnum. Which was bad. Very bad.

On so many levels was it bad. For one he was married. To an amazing woman no less.

And with this amazing woman, came two of the most perfect girls he had ever had the honor of knowing.

And he was, well, a he.

Phillip came from high class, promised to someone from birth, type of family. If he could even call his lackluster relationship with his parents a family.

But he was going to tell him.

That was the plan at least. But then Charity was there with the girls, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it with them there.

So, when the Barnum girls went into the stands and PT was coming out of the office in his full show regalia Phillip manned up.

“PT,” Phillip called, half jogging up to the man. They were alone, behind the stands. The crowd was getting excited as the lights were slowly being dimmed.

“Look,” Phillip proclaimed as he took PT’s hand in his own two. “I know that with Charity, you have a future. You have a family. No scandal. Nothing hard. And I know you love your wife, but you’re not in love with her.”

PT was looking at him funny, but Phillip soldered on.

“So, what I’m trying to say is… Pick me.”

“What? Phillip this is ridiculous,” PT said, pulling his arm away.

“Pick me. Choose me. Love me. Love me as much as I love you,” Phillip finished quietly.

But Barnum had still heard him. He had heard this unexpected declaration of love. But there was a show to put on, and he was not one to disappoint his audience.

And he left.

Without a word, PT Barnum turned away from Phillip Carlyle and went to go put on a show. It was discussed by the audience later that night that the show had been off. Or more accurately, the ringleader. His timing and pace had been off, setting the show to veer just off normal. Phillip wasn’t there to notice.

After realizing exactly what he had done, announcing his love and wishes for PT to leave his wife in one fail swoop. It was idiotic.

With one miserable look back at the trio of rings under the tent, Phillip left the circus.

His first stop was liquor of any form. Then home. Or a shoddy excuse for an apartment. The place barely had room for a rolled out mattress with a moth-eaten blanket and a chair with crates stacked to make a table.

This is what being disowned does to you. That and covering most of the cost of the circus. He handled the finances so Barnum never noticed. And Barnum had to be ready to pay for dance and finishing school for his two girls. Phillip only had to worry about keeping the circus going.

At the close of the circus, PT bypassed his wife and girls in search of Phillip. He wanted to explain his actions and reasoning. But Charity was there on his heels. The girls had run off to see Anne and Lettie. Which was good. But Charity was a different story.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing, just business stuff,” PT said practically flying into the office.

“If it’s business, then where’s Phillip? He barely spared a moment to see the girls,” Charity said leaning against one of the poles holding the tent upright as PT searched for some sign as to where Phillip could have possibly gone.

“Phillip hasn’t been looking very good either. He’s getting thinner. Lettie said he was taking his jacket up in the sides again the other day. That’s the third time… What are you looking for Phin?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing. You and the girls should go on home. I don’t know what time I’ll be there.”

“I’m getting tired of this Phin, and the girls are too. You have more of a relationship with Phillip Carlyle than you do your own wife,” Charity said laughing.This comment, though, set off alarms in his head.

“Has Phillip said anything to you,” PT queried. Looking up from his frantic searching so suddenly threw Charity for a loop.

“No….Why? Phineas, is there something I should know about? Please tell me we don’t have a Jenny Lind situation on our hands…” Charity’s speech had slowed down as she came to a realization.

“A man? Phineas! A man? How could you do this? Why would you put me through this again? Put our family through this again. He’s your business partner!” By the end of her tirade, Lettie and Anne were holding the girls and covering their ears on the other side of the tent flap.

“I’m going to my parents,” Charity said calmly, “and I don’t think I’ll be returning.” And with that Charity calmly pushed the tent flap back, took each of the girls by hand, and walked out of the circus. Leaving PT.

Phillip though, he was a mess. There was no denying it.

“He’ll never want you,” he slurred to himself. Years of drinking himself half to death meant that he was a few good bottles in when the altercation between PT and Charity had gone down.

“Useless. Only good for your money. But…. I don’t have any,” he was laughing at himself. Berating himself, and suddenly reeled his arm back and threw the now empty bottle at the wall. It shattered on impact. The apartment was so small though, that a broken shard ricocheted back into the arm of Phillip. Sticking there wetly.

Phillip looked down at his arm in amazement. He couldn’t really feel the pain, but god was he mesmerized by the blood. Red, the color of Phineas’s jacket, of the circus tent. He wanted more.

Pulling the broken shard from his arm brought more blood to the surface of the wound. “You shouldn’t be doing this,” Phillip mumbled to himself.

He did it anyway.

Phillip rolled his sleeves up past his elbows and drew the glass across his arm.

PT, on the other hand, was frantic. He had potentially just lost a lot of people from his life. Which wasn’t good.

The circus family was staring at him through the open tent flap, waiting to see just what he would do. PT turned to face them.

“Does anyone know where Phillip lives?”

At the question, the group collectively turned to one another. No one knew. Phillip was a private man, and no one had thought to ask him for his home address. None of them was the type to go calling, too much risk of harassment. The circus was safe and that’s where most of them stayed.

“No one? Not one of you know where he lives,” PT asked the group in front of them. Lettie was the one to speak up first.

“He’s your partner, shouldn’t you know?”

This drew PT up short. Turning from the group he headed back to the office tent to renew his search.

He had been searching his own desk when he was talking to Charity. Which made no sense in hindsight. Phillip wouldn’t keep any indicator of his private life in Barnum’s desk, he would keep it in his own.

PT started going through the mountains of papers on Phillip’s desk. Most were financial. One paper caught his eye. It looked ordinary enough, but it was a payment sheet for a new trapeze hoop. PT knew that Anne’s had needed replacing, but he hadn’t paid for this new one. Phillip had. PT started looking at the other financial papers. Phillip had paid. He had paid for most everything new over the past months.

Lettie came in a few minutes later to find Phineas on the ground surrounded by papers, tugging at his hair in thought.

“What’s got you in such a tizzie?” PT looked up with unshed tears gracing his eyes.

“Did you know that Phillip has been paying for practically everything out of pocket since the rebuild?”

“He couldn’t have Barnum. He wouldn’t be able to afford living if he has,” Lettie said, trying to step over the papers gently. She placed one of her hands on Barnum’s shoulder to comfort him. But her comment had set off a train of thought in Barnum’s head. He looked up at Lettie, into her comforting eyes, and sprang up.

“He has to keep his address here for all the receipts to be mailed to him! Help me look for the envelopes,” PT said jumping into action. Lettie set to work on one set of drawers while PT worked on the other half of the desk. Anne came in and was greeted with a quick “look for envelopes”, and set to work. Charles walked in and just stared at the scene in front of him. Walking over to the trash can in the corner, he pulled out a wrinkled envelope with Phillip’s name and address on it.

“You guys looking for this?” Charles held up the envelope. This had Barnum vaulting over the desk grabbing his jacket and hat, swiping the envelope out of Charles’s hand, and running straight out of the circus tent all together.

Chapter Text

PT was walking down a street that looked as though it were a daily occurrence to be robbed here. He had checked the address countless times after turning onto this street. Phillip couldn’t possibly live here. It was one of the most dangerous places in the city to be. All the apartments were trash, and that was being generous. But the address said that Phillip lived in this building, the one that looked like it could fall over with a strong breeze. It was being held up by the buildings on either side, you could see the boards that had been nailed in place.

“I’m sorry, do you know if Phillip Carlyle lives here,” PT asked a woman with two children on her hips. He was thinking that no one that innocent should be living in a place like this when she answered him.

“Don’t know a Phillip Carlyle, but I know a Phillip Bailey. He watches Andrew and Lucille when I have to work longer nights. Sweet boy, but keeps trying to get me to stop my business,” she said turning away.

PT did not want to realize what exactly her business was. She was young, couldn’t’ve been older than eighteen. This is what living alone in this city can do to a person. PT turned and began to climb six flights of stairs. He repeatedly had to jump steps to avoid tromping on a lost sole passed out on the steps. Women were posted on the landings asking if he wanted some fun for the evening. It was horrible. And Phillip lived here. He lived in a rat-infested, overpriced hole in the wall. And PT had never known. Never would have known if it weren’t for Phillip confessing his love.

Stopping at apartment 624, PT hesitated. His mind was plagued by what if’s. Phillip could no longer want him after PT technically rejected him. PT didn’t even know what he wanted, just the idea of making sure Phillip was alright.

PT knocked on the door. And waited. And waited. And knocked again. But there wasn’t an answer. So he tried the door, which was unlocked. What he found was a blood-soaked and unconscious Phillip.

Running to the apartment next door he asked them where the nearest hospital was. The answer was the same as the hospital Phillip was taken to after the fire.

“Check if he’s alive though,” the neighbor said turning away and slamming the door.

“Oh damn,” PT ran back over to Phillip’s place. There was too much blood. Wrapping Phillip in the shit blanket, Phillip’s jacket, and his own, but he still didn’t look covered right. PT didn’t know what to do in these situations. But he picked Phillip up bridal style and began to run as fast as he could.

A passing thought in his head, along with the jumbled ‘don’t die on me’, ‘I need you’, and just please, was that Phillip was too light. Far too light to be a grown man. But PT had the first priority of just getting to some form of a medical facility.

“He’s bleeding. Can you help him,” PT called, practically breaking down the hospital doors in his rush.

The doctors took Phillip away. Leaving PT. Now he knew how Phillip felt earlier that evening. Being left with nothing to do, and just feeling lost.
A doctor came out, but PT barely registered what he said. The poor man had to repeat everything for the news to sink in.

“His alcohol level was off the charts. Especially for his size. His cuts needed several hundred stitches, but nothing majorly important was hit. He’s also extremely underfed. He still has scars on his back that haven’t healed properly, so we reopened them to fix that. Overall, Mr. Bailey should be fine once he’s got the stitches out and gets some meat on his bones.” The doctor told Barnum that someone would come and get him once Phillip was in a bed.

Nothing was making sense. He knew Phillip liked to drink, but to a level that had his doctors concerned was news to PT. Thinking back, he had had to step over several bottles to get to Phillip. He remembered the blood, but that was on Phillips arms, not his back. And they wouldn’t have had time to heal. How did Phillip get those scars? Phillip hadn’t been obviously hurt, not before this at least.

PT was trying to make sense of the situation when a nurse came and got him from the sitting area.

“He was pretty banged up when you brought him in. Don’t be surprised at how he looks. And the doctors have him on his stomach to help his back heal properly,” the nurse seemed chipper and was obviously trying to help make a bleak situation a little better. But P.T. was not in the mood.

And she had undermined what Phillip would actually look like. Which was ‘not good’ by her standards, by Barnum’s Phillip looked like he shouldn’t be alive. And PT was terrified to touch him, the fear of him breaking stopped his hand. But the nurse told him to go ahead, and to just be gentle with the bandaged sections. Which, to PT, looked to be everywhere. He was fighting the urge to cry at the sheer sight of Phillip like this.

And then the nurse moved the blanket off of Phillips back.

Revealing just how skinny Phillip was. You shouldn’t be able to count someone’s ribs or touch their vertebrae.

“If you’ll excuse me, where is the closest bathroom,” PT said looking down at the nurse.

“Down the hall, but sir, you… should stay with him,” She finished quietly, for PT Barnum had strode off rather quickly.

Rounding the door to the bathroom, he promptly doubled over the trash can. Phillip had never said. Had never said anything. Had taken his share of dinner with the rest of the circus before performances. He had eaten. But PT was starting to question just how sure of that fact he was.

Looking into his reflection over the bathroom sink, PT saw a man that was lost. Too similar to the boy living on the streets. Lost and desperate.

Chapter Text

Phillip was in a world of pain. Everything hurt. He feared to move. But a hand resting on his upper arm and something soft tickling his side roused him a bit more.

Not being able to move much more than his head, Phillip looked at his arm to find a hand. But not the hand of Anne, the person he woke up to the last time he was in a hospital. The hand of a person that had known a lifetime of hard labor, that had a tan line where a ring used to be. It couldn’t be.

Straining himself, and pulling at some of his stitches in his back, Phillip looked down at his side in disbelief. There laid the head of Phineas Taylor Barnum. And his underfed body left him breathless.

Phillip had never been in the habit of looking at himself. Too used to being called a disappointment to bother. So seeing his body in the state it was in left him reeling. He had done this. He had done this to himself.

And PT knew.

Well, there goes his job. Because there will be no use for him staying on when he is covered in bandages and so skinny that if he sucked in his stomach, it would probably show through his back.

His back. Damn it. He had tried to treat the wounds as best he could. Phillip couldn’t afford to go to the hospital, and he lived in extremely less than ideal arrangements. His back had been feeling funny ever since he had thought that the wounds had closed up.

Phillip’s breaths were quickening. He couldn’t breathe. It felt like the world was shrinking to a black dot. But a voice was calling him out.

“Stay alive, stay alive”

PT.

And with a snap, the world was back in focus, more or less.

Chapter Text

“Mr. Barnum, he’s very weak. He shouldn’t really be awake yet,” the poor nurse said trying to get PT to calm down. All he could think about was how Phillip needed help and how the hell did no one notice.

Phillip was just laying on his bed quietly. Until PT sounded like he was really panicking.

“PT, I’m fine.” This had PT whirling around onto one knee by his bedside.

“You’re awake. I told them that you were awake. They wouldn’t believe me. And then you went back to sleep and I started panicking because what if you didn’t wake up. Then where would that leave me? Because apparently, you’ve been paying for practically everything….” a shaking hand placed on Barnum’s arm drew him to silence.

“Take a breath. I’m fine.”
“Bullshit you are,” PT said standing up. “You are in no way fine Phillip. You almost killed yourself.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t almost kill myself.”
“Then why did I find you covered in blood.”
And Phillip looked up in confusion, he remembered the starting the cutting after that piece of glass stuck in his arm, but that was really all that could be drummed up. But Barnum found him. Pin was in his apartment. Phin knew.

Well, that’s just great. Kind of goes along with the rest of his year honestly. The good thing is, not much else could happen.

PT was already talking to the nurse about what he should do and outpatient regulations. Phillip could only wonder about why Barnum was still here. He wasn’t mad about the rejection. He was actually expecting it more than anything. But PT had activley sought him out. Had even managed to find him in his shitty apartment.

“The docs are saying that you can leave tomorrow. Or later today technically. They just want to make sure everything is good before they release you,” PT said as he sank into the chair beside Phillip’s bed. Both men looked like hell. Phillip just thought that at least he had an excuse.

“You keep saying you’re fine Phillip. But you really aren’t. You aren’t letting anyone love you like you deserve.”
“I am fine Phin.” Phillip glanced over his shoulder. “I’m not in the morgue.”
“You got a bit too close for comfort though.” PT ran a work worn hand through Phillip’s hair before standing.
“I’m going back to the circus. They need to know Phillip.”

Phillip couldn’t bring himself to answer. A swell of panic was rising in his chest and he felt like he was drowning. He was the fine one. The easy one. The one to never pull stupid stunts. And he managed to pull this one very helpful act for months and everything was coming down around his ears.

PT was beside himself. He couldn’t talk to Charity about any of this.

Charity. That was a whole other can of worms that was just not even worth getting into. His priority was to handle the family that always stayed. Phillip and the circus. He would have to try to get the girls back after he figured out what to do with everything else.

Leaving a light kiss on the top of a sleeping Phillip’s head, PT picked up his hat and coat and made his way out of the hospital.

Chapter Text

“He did what,” Anne shrieked. She had been doing a bit of that since Phin had tried to start telling the circus family what little he knew about Philip and the situation at hand. Maybe starting off with ‘Phillip isn’t dead’ wasn’t the best choice. No, in hindsight, it definitely wasn’t. But in Phin’s defense, he was half asleep and mentally exhausted. A lot had been thrown at him in the last few hours.

Charles was sitting on a crate looking like someone had just kicked his puppy. The rest of the group wasn’t looking too much better.

“Charity came by. Said something like she wasn’t taking the house,” Lettie said, she was trying to be a calm voice in the chaos. And she really was the only one. Phineas had gone through too much with that woman for her to be acting like this. And she took the girls. Those two little beauties were the twin suns that Barnum rotated around.

“Well, that’s good. At least that’ll give me somewhere to take Philip. Oh. Does anyone know why he’s started using Bailey as his last name,” PT said, looking up from his clasped hands over his knees. But much like last night, no one had an answer, until Anne spoke up.

“His parents disowned them. It happened months ago. When he tried to take me to the theatre. I didn’t think they were serious then, but they must have made it official since then,” Anne looked around at the rest of her little family. She hadn’t realized what exactly being disowned meant for someone like Phillip. She had never had a dowry. Had never had money, to begin with.

“That explains that… That actually could explain a lot of things,” PT said rising from his position on the barrier between the stands and the trio of rings. “I’ve got to go back and get Phillip. I’ll be back. And if I know him well enough, he’ll be with me.”

PT got there just in time to see Phillip being rolled out of the hospital.

“I’m sorry but what are you doing,” PT asked as he stopped the nurse.

“Hospital policy. Every patient has to be taken out in a wheelchair. Mr. Bailey checked himself out and was about to be on his way,” the small woman said with a smile. Before Phillip could consider getting a comment in on how he was ‘’just fine Barnum, really”. PT picked him up bridal style and carried him to the awaiting carriage.

“Where exactly were you going to go after you were out Phillip?”
“Back to my apartment to clean up and then head to the circus….”
“You’re never going back to that shithole again.”

This had Phillip’s face turning red. Either from anger or embarrassment, he wasn’t quite sure.

“I’ve already paid for the month. And everything I have is there Barnum,” Phillip was trying to be reasonable. He really was. But he was just so tired but his stomach was cramping again. He hadn’t exactly been able to afford food. It was either the circus and apartment or circus and food. And Phillip had been raised a proud man. A proud man with money, but a proud man nonetheless. So in his mind, it had made sense to forego food to have the appearance of a good life outside of the tent. Which he hadn’t. And now the king of humbug had called him on his bluff.

“I’ll go by and pick up your things later. After we go by the circus and get you home.”
“Did you lock the door?”
“What,” PT asked, turning his head to look at Phillip.
“If you didn’t lock the door there’s no point in going back. Everything will be gone except for the blood.”

That comment was like a stab to his heart. Everything Philip had, had been in that sorry excuse for an apartment.

“You said we’re going to the circus?”
“Yes. I told them some very small details of what had happened. Everyone just wants to make sure you’re ok. Well, that and I can pick up some work for me to do while I’m home with you for the next few days.”
“Oh! Can you pick up some of the letters on my desk? I know that there were a few bank slips and some letters to get the ball rolling on a group tour around the New England area. And there should be a list of a few things I need to order. Lettie needs a new costume and so does Leeds… and you’re staring at me. Why are you staring at me?”
“You do realize that you could have very easily… oh, I don’t know died. You could be dead right now and you want me to get work? Phillip… I don’t even know what to say. I…” but PT’s words hung in the air.

It blew his mind that Phillip wanted to work. He almost died and he wants to work. No. No way. Phillip wasn’t going to work. Not on paperwork, not with the finances. Phin had enough set aside to hire a financial manager. Phil wouldn’t be able to make secret payments for the circus. That would work. That had to help.

Little did Phin know that Philip was already trying to think up ways to make himself ‘useful’ around the circus as soon as possible. Unhealthily soon. Because the circus was his family. He couldn’t be kicked out if he was being useful.

Chapter Text

The entire circus troupe was waiting outside the giant red tent awaiting the arrival of their two ringmasters. Lettie was trying to comfort Anne and Charles, the two of them seemed to have been hit the hardest by the news of Phillip’s return to the hospital. And Lettie was making plans. The plan that she followed through with though, well, that depended on what exactly had happened to Phillip.

PT called for the carriage driver to stop and let them out. Phillip had been insisting that he could walk himself into the tent, and his inward reasoning was to keep up the act that everything was fine. And PT, too tired to fight right now, agreed. On the condition that Phillip would sit down as soon as a form of seating was available.

Hopping out of the carriage on the side furthest from the tent entrance, PT helped Phillip get down. The realization that he was just too light hit him once more. And the guilt-wracked him. ‘He did this to keep your ridiculous dreams alive,’ PT thought to himself. Guilt was a powerful thing in him.

But Phillip brushed him off as soon as he was standing. Striding, or attempting to stride, Phillip greeted the rest of the circus group. Who all pounced on him. Trying to make sure he was ok. Dozens of voices filled the air as the group collectively moved into the tent, Phillip in the dead center and PT walking several steps behind.

But Lettie was there beside him. And she jerked her head to one of the side tents that held the shared office of the ringmasters. Lettie wanted answers, and she wanted them now.

PT collapsed into his desk chair while Lettie let the rope go that held the tent flap open. She turned a walked calmly to the cupboard that held the duo’s “secret” stash of drink. Pouring him a tumblr of some fairly weak spirit, she slid the small glass over to Barnum. And Lettie knew something was wrong when he shot it back.

“You never did strike me as the type to drink early in the morning,” Lettie said arranging herself in the chair opposite PT.

“Never had a need too until now.”
“What the hell happened last night Barnum,” Lettie asked quietly. She was concerned. Everyone was concerned. Charity acting like she did last night and that morning, that wasn’t normal. And Phillip wound up in the hospital for the second time that year. Something wasn’t right.

“Phillip said he loved me,” Barnum said as he stared at the tiny glass he was twisting in his hands.

“Oh,” well that wasn’t exactly what Lettie was expecting. “I mean… What? Are we happy about this? You wouldn’t hurt him. Not physically anyway.”

“I… don’t know what I feel about it. I know that I did hurt him when I didn’t give him an answer, but…”
“You did what? You didn’t answer him? Phineas Barnum. I am ashamed of you. You don’t ignore love,” Lettie was standing as she spoke, walking around the desk. Phin felt a sharp smack on the back of his head. He deserved that. On more levels than Lettie knew.

Phillip was doing his best. He tried to make sure that no one hugged him too hard. They couldn’t know that under all of his clothes there were layers of bandages. But Anne. God bless her, she is strong. And she hugged him. Tightly. And she jumped. It wouldn’t have been noticeable to anyone other than the two. But Phillips breaths seized in his chest. But Anne let go and acted like nothing had happened. Other people came closer to talk to him, and Anne faded out of sight. He completely lost track of her when Prince came up and started talking about how well last night had gone.

Anne ran out of the main tent and straight into Barnum’s office where Lettie was trying to get answers out of a very tired PT.

“Why is he covered in bandages,” Anne demanded, slamming her hands on PT’s desk. He was too tired for this. He wanted to get Phillip somewhere he could rest and then he just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. ‘My fault, this is my fault,’ was the only coherent thought he could piece together. That, and the memory of Phillip passed out in a pool of his own blood. Him and his stupid new acts, always pushing, always wanting more.

Lettie smacking him upside the head pulled him back to reality.

“Please be quiet,” he asked, in a whisper, ducking his head to lay in his hands. “I’ll tell you what I know.” And he did. PT told every detail he could muster up to the two strong women in front of him. They were grounded and smart and weren’t flighty. They could help. They would know what an adult would do in this situation.

Lettie, never a quiet woman, looked like she had just been slapped. And Anne. Sweet Anne was crying. And not the reserved crying he had only seen twice before. But angry gut-wrenching sobs. She grew silent after a few minutes. And calmly stood. Walked around his desk.

“Anne, I’m so sorry. I know how you fe…” But Barnum was cut off by a surprised yelp as Anne jumped on him and starting clawing his face. Lettie made a surprised shriek and went to the tent flap to call for WD or anybody. After mere seconds Anne realized that she was only scratching him, so she took to throwing punches. PT had been raised to never hurt a woman, never hit a woman. Always be respectful. But even if he wasn’t raised like that, he still wouldn’t have defended himself, he deserved it. Phillip was his fault.

Chapter Text

Tom was the first person to be able to grab Anne. WD held her face in his hands, trying to talk to her and get her to calm down. Phillip was the last person to get through the crowd to see just what the commotion was all about.

The scene was so odd, it could have been argued funny if you didn’t know what exactly had happened.

Phin and his chair had fallen backwards, Lettie was trying to help him up. Anne was being held aloft by Tim and she was screaming murder. WD looked like he was trying to tame one of the lions out back.

“What happened,” Phillip asked, moving in between the groups of people crowded into the room.

“He did this,” Anne screamed and repeated until she dissolved into sobs. During her outburst, Lettie was able to help Phineas into a standing position. Phillip looked over and was amazed at what he saw. Phin’s face was covered in thin slash marks that were oozing blood, his nose was bleeding, and it looked like the man was working on twin black eyes.

“Well,” Phillip sighed, turning back to the men holding Anne, “let her go.”
“But she’ll hurt someone,” WD said, glancing over to Barnum. Phillip walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a shake. A weak shake, but a shake.
“I did this.”

Phillip looked back at Barnum, who was trying to stop his nose from bleeding. Lettie was gathering papers and shoving them in Phin’s bag. Phillip made a move to go and gather some papers off of his, but a gurgle from Phin stopped him. Phin had said no work yet. He would listen, without argument, for once.

“Lettie can you…”
“Already got it Phillip. Go home. You both look like shit”

Phillip took Phineas’s arm and Phin took the bag from Lettie and the duo made their way out front to an awaiting carriage.

The ride for the most part was quiet. Barnum’s head was going a million miles a minute. He had Phillip that he needed to take care of. But there was still Charity to deal with. And he wanted to see his girls. And someone needed to be the ringmaster tonight. And he didn’t have a backup scheduled. Did the house have food was another issue. And the thought of thankfulness of moving out of the countryside mansion flitted through his head again.

Phillip though, was panicking. Anne had attacked Phin, willingly. Phin obviously wasn’t alright. The circus had things coming due and materials needed to be ordered. But he looked over at Phineas, and a peace came over him.

Phineas was the shot of crazy in his world of drunken order. Phineas made sense. He made sense in his senselessness.

The carriage pulled up to the nice house, and shame washed over Phineas. He had been living it up while Phillip would have been safer living on the streets. ‘My fault’ was all he could think on the subject before Phillip started to get out of the carriage. Phineas rushed to help him.

The house was nice, four stories, but narrow in width. Guest areas, minus bedrooms, were all on the first floor. Phineas considered this before scooping Phillip up and marching up the stairs.

Being literally swept off his feet left Phillip breathless and wanting to make a comment about being a bride on her wedding night. But then the truly embarrassing proclamation of love came back to him at the speed of a bullet. No, no, he would definitely not be cracking that joke tonight.

Phin considered the stairs for another moment, hating just how many there were, and began to climb. Phineas gently lowered him onto a bed along with the bag. The room was big enough to hold his entire apartment within it’s four walls. And there was a bed, with an actual frame. And Phillip was in awe of how Phineas just took him into his home.

“You need a bath, and I need to check your wounds. So how exactly do you - do you -,” Phineas kept clearing his throat. He knew Phillip wasn’t going to him to look at him, not after last night. But there wasn’t much other options. Phillip looked up at him and a decision had been reached in his head.

“Can you help me then,” Phillip said, making moves to rise from the extremely soft bed.
“Oh! Of course. Here,” and Phin picked him up and took him into the bathroom. Phin sat him on the edge of the tub and turned the faucet on. Phillip considered his next options carefully. He could have Barnum help him undress and get into the tub or he could ask him to leave and handle getting in the tub himself and have Barnum check everything later. Phillip tried tugging on the im of his shirt to see if he even could do it himself. But the flaring pain coming from his back and arms was not having it.

“Help me. Please,” Phillip said quietly looking down at himself. He didn’t want Phin to see more of him than he had already, but there was no other way.

Chapter Text

PT knew what was coming when he lifted Phillip’s shirt up and over his head. The scene in front of him still made his stomach turn to knots, but he didn’t have time to be sick. Didn’t have time to be selfish. Phillip needed help and that was the priority. Take care of Phil.

He started trying to think of what exactly was in the kitchen. Not much, if he was remembering correctly. Charity was supposed to do the shopping tomorrow. Which wasn’t going to be happening now. And the doctors said nothing too heavy. To make sure that it stayed down. Because he hadn’t been actually eating in so long. Which is his own fault. He had caused this.

But he needed to focus. PT started pulling the bandages aside to see if anything needed to be cleaned or not. Phillip waist and down hadn’t sustained any injuries that had needed care at the hospital, so the doctors had said that he could take a bath so long as the water remained below his pants line.

“Do you want to me to leave and you take care of the rest,” but when no answer came from PT’s question, he looked up to see the Phillip was slumped over and asleep. ‘Well, that answers that’ and PT finished getting him undressed, lowering him into the tub.

As PT walked back into the main bedroom with the bathroom door open to keep an eye on Phillip, he picked up the bag of papers that Lettie had packed for him. Flipping through the sheets, he noticed that she had grabbed quite a few papers from Phillip’s desk. And he was grateful, this would give him the chance to start repaying his seemingly endless debt to Phil.

Phillip, to anyone, would look to be peacefully asleep in the warm bath water. But his mind was being plagued by nightmares. The fire and his father had always been prevalent in his nightmares. But in the bathtub, with Phineas watching over him, something new joined the roster of horrors. Him. Covered in blood and on the floor. The only noise was a terrible scream that never seemed to end.

After looking at the papers and giving up on calculating just how much he owed Phillip, PT started trying to get some sort of clothing for Phillip to sleep in. Phillip had always been smaller in stature than himself, but he had had muscle and meat. And thighs. God his thighs had been gorgeous. But now. Now PT could pick Phillip up without much of a struggle.

He had to be careful. He didn’t have the time right now to get upset. First priority: get Phillip clothes. Then food. Then sleep. Everything else could wait.

He didn’t have much that would actually fit, but they would do for the time being. Glancing over into the bathroom showed that steam was still rising from the water, which means that he had some time to make something for Phillip to eat.

The kitchen though, upon inspection, would barely make any kind of a meal. There was only random vegetables and not much else. Soup it was going to have to be. One of the few benefits of living on the street in the time between his father and the railroad, PT had learned to make meals out of just about anything. And he set to work, putting a pot of water on the stove and began to cut vegetables. If he finished everything and left it to simmer, he should have time to get Phillip dried and dressed by the time it’s done.

Well. That was the original plan. But with a scream and a crash from upstairs, the original plan more or less went out the window.

Chapter Text

Standing had been a mistake. Would have been a mistake in general in Phillip’s condition. But he stood up in a bathtub. So when he tried to take a step out of the said bathtub, he went ended up falling face first onto the floor. Also taking out whatever items happened to be on the vanity.

He had wanted to be strong enough. He had been fine. And now he just wanted to lay here. He was failing. PT was taking care of him because of what he said the other night. He was only doing it out of pity. Because he was married. PT was married with a family. The ground was vibrating. And the thundering of footsteps was filtering into his ears.

Phineas Taylor Barnum was not an easily scared man. But he had been terrified more in the past day than he had been in his entire life. He hadn’t been this scared when Charity had told him she was pregnant and he had been out of work. He hadn’t been this scared when he waited outside the delivery room. He hadn’t been this scared opening the circus with every penny he had to his name. The last time PT had been this scared, he had run into a fire to save a man. His business partner, and arguably his closest friend.

Lettie was the only other person he was nearly as close too.

But Phillip. Phillip was something else.

So, PT was scared seeing him covered in blood. Had been scared taking him to the circus. And was now scared about why he was laying on the bathroom floor.

“I tried to stand up,” Phillip snarked. They both knew he felt like shit, but he was trying to be his old self.

“How’d that worked out for you,” PT asked as he grabbed a towel from the cabinet and wrapped Phillip in it. After Phillip was effectively drowning in fluffy towels, PT picked him up and took him back into the bedroom.

“Not great. As you can tell,” Phillip said with a huff as he was placed on the bed. Phineas handed him a huge shirt to put on. Glancing up, Phillip took in Phin’s face. Covered in thin slash marks and dried blood, he wasn’t looking his exact best.

“You need to get cleaned up too. Lettie was right, you look like shit.”
“Well, Lettie's right about a lot of things. But I’ll take care of it,” PT said as he pushed Phillip under the covers and went back downstairs.

Staring at himself in the hallway mirror, Phineas began wiping to dried blood from the thin slashes and his bloody nose. It didn’t seem to be broken though, which was a plus. As he dropped the bloody and damp rag in the sink, PT pulled a bowl down from the cabinet. He needed to get the soup into Phillip, and then make sure he went to sleep.

Phillip was still awake upstairs. He knew the Barnums schedule by heart after months of spending time with the family. Food would be a little scarce because Charity wasn’t due to go shopping until tomorrow. The girls should be coming home in a few hours from their school lessons. Charity always stopped by the circus to see Phineas in between getting the groceries and picking up the girls. Then she would drop them off at the theatre for Caroline's dance lessons and Helen's voice lessons. And then Phineas would take a break and go get the girls and take them home.

But instead of getting to see his girls later this afternoon, Phineas was stuck dealing with him. Because he had said that he loved him. And Charity left Phin, again. And she took the girls. And it was his fault for splitting up such a wonderful family. And Phin must hate him.

Phineas though did not hate Phillip. He hated many people, including himself. But he did not, and could not hate Phillip.

Chapter Text

Phillip ate everything in front of him without complaint when Phineas brought the small meal to him. Phillip hesitantly explained how the whole not eating issue had come about only a two or so months ago. Which in his mind didn’t seem all that bad? But Phineas was having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that Phillip had been starving himself to keep the circus alive.

After eating a full meal for the first time in a while, Phillip began to fall asleep again. Whenever he tried to apologize through, Phin shushed him. Eventually, Phillip lay fully down on the bed under the covers. Phin tucked him in, and after a moment's hesitation kissed Phillip on the forehead. He had done the same to Caroline and Helen the other night.

Phineas picked up the discarded dishes and proceed to take everything back down to the kitchen. He washed and dried everything, and as he was putting everything back into the cupboards when there was a knock at the door.

Heading to and opening the door, Phineas saw Lettie on the other side with the hood of her coat up. But before Barnum could even welcome her in, Lettie was brushing past him and taking off her coat.

“Come on in, then,” Phin said with a huff of laughter. Lettie had grown ever more confident since he had offered her a place in the circus. The fact that she felt safe enough to waltz into his home said a quite a bit about her growth in being herself.

Lettie turned to face Phineas, and taking his shoulders in her hands, forced him to squat. She gripped his face in one of her hands and turned it from side to side.

“Who taught you to take care of yourself? Come on Barnum, you always kill yourself taking care of everyone else,” Lettie said pulling him back up to a standing position, and began to push him towards the kitchen.

Lettie just looked around for a moment before she began pulling out disinfectant and a clean rag. She hadn’t had to do this since the fire, but she hated it even more now because one of her family did this.

PT wanted to ask how exactly she knew where to find the cleaning alcohol. But after considering her just barely defeated frame, he gave up the notion. He hadn’t really let himself be taken care of for a while. Lettie was offering and he had learned early on not to turn her down. But when she placed the rag on his cheek it burned. He tried his best to hold back a hiss, but it hurt.

“You didn’t deserve what that girl did to you. You don’t deserve your wife taking your daughters away,” Lettie said after she finished wiping Phins face.

“What if I did Lettie? You did imply that I was an idiot,” PT said looking up at her.

“You deserved the to be called an idiot for ignoring love. But none of this. You didn’t deserve this,” Lettie said pulling PT into an embrace. But PT pushed back, he had done this. Lettie knew though. She knew about Phillip paying for everything and the not eating. Lettie knew but didn’t blame him.

Chapter Text

“I have to say the quiet is nice but you’re never this quiet Phin,” Phillip was looking at Phin from his spot on the bed. Phillip saw and understood that Pin was working. But Phin was not a quiet man, not for anything. He would laugh at reviews in the paper, would grumble over calculations, and would hum when he was trying to figure out choreography. But now. Now he was sitting silently at the desk across the hall from Phillips room.

With a sigh, PT rose from the office chair and picked up a sheet of paper. He had spent the past several hours since Lettie’s departure to figure out just how much Phillip had spent trying to keep the circus in perfect order. And it was sickening. There was no possible way to think of it otherwise. Phillip had spent his cut of the profits to pay for as much as he could get his hands on. The only reason he hadn’t paid for literally everything was because sometimes PT would get the mail instead.

Phillip watched him as he made his way to sit beside him on the bed. Phillip saw the paper covered in numbers. He didn’t want to talk about it, but something had to be said. Before PT could even get a breath in to start the conversation, Phillip was beating him to the punch.

“You have a family. You’re going to have to pay for so much for your family. Finishing school is not the cheapest thing in the world PT. And if they want to make something of themselves in life there going to have to go. And then you have their dancing and theatre lessons. Clothes for when they start wanting the latest pieces from Paris. Charity will probably want some too. And you have a thing for top hats. And I don’t have anybody. I just have me. So I paid for the family that I got from being with you.”

All of this was said in a rush, with barely a breath taken the entire time. PT was sitting there, wondering how such a good soul could have been handed such a shitty life. Before either man realized what was happening, PT had bundled Phillip into the tightest embrace he could without hurting him.

Pulling back and forcing Phillip to look in the eyes PT said, “You do have a family. How many times do I need to say it? You have me. We have the circus.”

“What about the girls?”

“The girls don’t want to go to finishing school, first off. The first time Charity and I brought it up, they both got so offended. They knew what it was like for their mother. And they have seen what that class of people can be like. They don’t want anything to do with it. And if it comes to pass that I can’t afford their lessons, you do realize that we own a circus. A circus that is filled with talented dancers and actors and anything else those girls would want to be. By the way, since you bring up the argument about how you only have you to take care of. You are obviously terrible at it,” PT said smiling. “I’m picking you, Phillip. Because you are just too good to not be loved like you deserve. You deserve every happiness that I can give you. I love you.”