The earth seemed to rejoice alongside them as they finally made it out of Greenland. The boat had dropped them off in a world that would've fit the country's title better — meadows of heavenly beauty awaited them, vibrant green grass bursting with life. The sky was brighter and bluer than anything he'd come across in weeks, trapped in a shelter of steel-gray and hopeless darkness. He forgot the taste of fresh air, the smoothness of the dirt below his bare feet. And the sun, beaming down on him with a gentle warmth, inspired hope like no other. A thousand Amabels could never compare to the sun. Philip swore he would never take nature for granted again, as long as he lived. (Which, hopefully, would be a very long time.) As a light breeze ruffled his hair, Philip breathed in the world, his home. He was home at last.
The boat had rowed away, and now it was just the two of them — him and Clarence. But not the way they'd been down in the mines, part of one body, an inseparable (but not by choice) mesh of minds. Now, Philip could turn around and look at him, and that's just what he did.
Clarence was the model of a human in complete ecstasy. Philip could hardly suppress his smile as he watched the Tuurngait-turned-human spin around in circles admiring himself. He wore an outfit mirroring Philip's — a long red winter coat unzipped in the front, showing a comfortable black shirt underneath; blue jeans just a size too big, held on by a chestnut-brown belt; and tall winter boots. From a distance, he seemed roughly the same height, give or take a few inches, and looked to be about the same age and weight, but that was where the similarities ended.
Philip had blonde hair and blue eyes, but Clarence's new body had jet-black hair and piercing red eyes — which might have been unsettling, if they held anything but pure joy and wonder as he reveled in the appearance of his own hands, toned slightly darker than Philip's. There was a roughness to his features, though — enough that he could hear Clarence's harsh voice coming from it. His eyes were protruding, his nose was Roman, and his hair was tousled in a way that was magnetic; Philip longed to run his fingers through it — or maybe yank on it, depending on whatever smartass comment was bound to come from the ex-virus's mouth.
He looked like the arrogant, impulsive spawn of Satan Philip had come to know him as, and somehow, that made Philip's heart want to burst.
Then Clarence seemed to realize he was there. He turned to grin at Philip with a full set of perfectly white teeth, which should have been Philip's first indication that he was in some sort of dream world, because Clarence didn't seem the type to care much about personal hygiene. Actually, that should've been the fourth or fifth indication, considering 1) they weren't in the mines, and 2) Clarence had a human body and he wasn't surprised. But Philip could barely bring himself to care, because he was absorbed in his fascination over Clarence, of all things.
Clarence's hair shifted as he turned, strands of dark hair nearly covering his right eye, but he didn't seem bothered. It nearly drove Philip mad, though — he wanted nothing less than to stomp over there and kiss that stupid grin off his face.
"Philip— !" Clarence exclaimed, before getting a hold of himself; he looked back down at his body and allowed his grin to turn mischievous. "Monkey, get a holda this!"
Clarence made sure Philip had a good look at him from every angle, as if he needed proof that Clarence did, indeed, have his own body. Philip felt a surge of happiness course through him as he watched his one remaining friend exude such a cheeriness he'd ever known possible. There was a twisting sadness that overcame him as well, because of what they'd been through, but the happiness overrode those feelings, because they were finally together, here where Philip could reach him.
"I got a body! And lemme tell you, it's ten times better than your worn-out thing!" Clarence exclaimed, pointing insultingly at Philip. He raised an eyebrow, awaiting an explanation, but Clarence was already distracted, his hands reaching up to feel his hair. "Damn, even my brother's woulda been jealous of this! Look at your world, human, no wonder you monkeys ain't made houses in the ground! This is all mine now."
"Don't get ahead of yourself," Philip warned. "If you don't want to be locked up again, you're going to have to follow human rules."
"Rules schmools. Where's that free country, huh? America? We'll just go there."
"They have rules in America, too."
"What? Does freedom mean nothing to you monkeys?"
"Wouldn't have thought the Tuurngait knew the concept."
"Watch it, monkey. I can't mess with you on the inside, but I can still get ya from the outside!"
"Again. Make sure you follow the law; I'm not pulling you out of prison for murder."
"Psh. Murder's the last thing on my mind. First thing we're gonna do is watch that damn movie you never finished! Gotta celebrate my namesake."
Philip rolled his eyes, secretly taking pleasure in the childlike wonder that sometimes flashed through Clarence's eyes as he experimented with his world, pinching his skin to see what it felt like, kicking around some loose dirt to see it split into segments and scatter around. Clarence must never have thought it possible, to experience so much free will like this.
Philip wondered if the Tuurngait were even supposed to feel joy.
The gentle breeze swept past him again, but the warmth of the sun's rays prevented him from shivering. He was pleasantly warm — yet another drastic difference from the hell he left behind. His eyes barely left Clarence, softening as he thought, 'He's still with me. They left, but he'll always remain.'
Philip stepped up closer to Clarence, until they were just a few feet away, ignoring the blooming attraction underlying his actions. Yep — Clarence was definitely a few inches shorter than he was. Almost half a head, in fact. It was somehow endearing.
Clarence turned back to grin at him once more, but the excitement was beginning to wear off. His grin settled into something calmer, and he asked, "So, what comes next? Got any great plans?" Philip didn't respond, partly because he wasn't really sure. He knew what he wanted to do, but he didn't think Clarence would approve. And he couldn't even begin planning for the long-term, still unable to believe his luck at the present. He was just too stunned by the other's physical existence.
His pause must have gone on a little too long, because Clarence drawled, "You better not stay silent during my next existential crisis, monkey, 'cause I'm not in your head anymore to extrapolate your thoughts. … What's going on up there, anyway?"
Philip just kept staring at Clarence, at how his eyes kept shifting around like the world was going to disappear if he didn't keep it in his sight, how he was subtly testing out different facial expressions when he wasn't speaking (sticking out his tongue, popping out his cheek), how fucking captivating he was just existing. Philip couldn't believe this turned out so perfectly.
Well, no, not perfectly — Red was still gone, and his father was still gone, but Clarence was there, and Clarence was all Philip really needed.
Philip needed Clarence.
Clarence mumbled his name in slight confusion as Philip bridged the gap between them, and god, all Philip wanted to do was make Clarence say his name again, he wanted him to scream it, he wanted to hear Clarence pleading for him the way his heart seemed to be pleading for Clarence, and finally Philip couldn't take it anymore. He gently directed Clarence's chin up with his hand, seeing the split-second widening of red eyes before their lips connected.
It wasn't long, just a couple seconds before Philip started to pull away, but before he could get far Clarence's hand latched onto his arm, freezing him in place. Clarence's grip was tight and sudden, and his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes met Philip's. Clarence swallowed, and his fingers suddenly began to stroke Philip's arm. He looked confused, but also longing. "Monkey…" His voice trailed off in a whine, and that was enough for Philip, who gladly swooped in for another kiss. His speed caught Clarence slightly off guard, a slight noise of surprise escaping his mouth and shooting Philip's pleasure levels through the roof. Philip's left arm wrapped around Clarence and dove into his black mess of hair, which he began playing with as a very confused but aroused Clarence swung his other arm around Philip's back, supporting himself and pulling him in closer.
Philip wished it could have gone on longer, because he could feel Clarence's hesitation melt away by the second, and he was anticipating the virus's chaotic nature to reveal itself. But those seconds of ecstasy went by in a flash and suddenly the picture became blurry as he felt himself pulled away from the moment. Dream Philip's plans for letting out his pent-up frustration were all for naught when Philip actually woke up from his dream. He found himself sprawled out on the cool tile floor of the Greenland mines, with no Clarence beside him — just the virus's voice growling in his head, telling him time was up and they had to get moving soon.
Philip didn't respond, silently obeying Clarence as he stood up and allowed his consciousness to fully return. He was hoping the virus couldn't feel his face heating up in embarrassment. He tried to push away the dream from his mind, but at the same time he found himself puzzling over what it meant. Was he actually attracted to a disembodied, frustrating, self-centered voice in his head? Was it just a meaningless culmination of different memories running through his mind? Was there a hidden message lying around there, just outside his reach?
No — he had to push it aside, because Clarence could read his emotions, his thoughts, his memories, and Philip needed to make sure he wasn't acting suspicious, or all of that would get revealed at once.
"Hey, monkey, what's goin' on up there?"
Shit. Philip really couldn't even try to fool him, now could he? Philip sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair, trying to recall what it felt like in the dream, and how much better life had seemed.
"... Can you see dreams?" Philip finally asked, trying to keep his mind blank. Apparently he didn't succeed, because Clarence snickered.
"I sure can see your thoughts," he responded, purposefully making his voice sound as suggestive as possible. Philip definitely turned red at that, but he kept silent, refusing to entertain Clarence with his sputtered-out excuses.
Instead, Philip started searching through his bag, making sure he had everything he needed to explore the new area. But the whole time he was doing so, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering, intrigued by the fact that Clarence never answered his question.