Path to Odin part 1c
Title: Path to Odin Part 1c(age 8)
Author: serialbathera
Fandom: Profiler
Prompt: 007 Days , (fanfic100), Philip Nichols’s Childhood.
Challenge: None
Characters: Philip Nichols, Royce Nichols, Edward Nichols, Dean Walker, Gerard
Characters mentioned: Scruffy
Pairings: None
Rating: Pg-13
Warnings: death, possible animal abuse considering how you read it.
word Count: 858
Summary: What happened to make Philip Nichols want to become a cult leader? This is his untold story of what happened to make him want to start his own family.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters
Author’s notes: For Meg, as per her request.
For the rest of the parts, follow the tag "Path to Odin"
Several days passed, and then one day Philip was coming back from the library where he spent his lunch hour, when his teacher tapped him on the shoulder as he was entering the classroom.
“Master Nichols, you need to go to Dean Walker’s office,” She said before he could go to the desk.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Philip turned and headed into the hallway. Philip walked quickly to the administration offices. He opened the door and walked passed the receptionist to the door marked ‘Dean Virginia Walker.’ He opened this door, and walked inside.
He was greeted by the site of Royce Nichols and Edward Nichols sitting in the two chairs in front of the desk. Dean Virginia Walker was sitting behind her large black desk all prim and proper. She was wearing the dean’s uniform of strict black, and her hair was pulled back into a slick bun. She looked up when he came into the room. “Thank you for coming Master Philip.” She peered at him through her small red cat-eye glasses.
Royce Nichols turned to Philip with a sad sort of smile. “Your mother was in a car accident today. “ Tears started to form in his eyes, and Philip questioned mentally whether they were real or fake. His father continued, “I’m afraid she is dead, Philip, dear. She died along with Thomas.”
Philip moved closer to the door, using the frame to support him. He felt like he was going to faint, he had a feeling his father knew a lot more about what happened then he was saying. Philip watched as his brother began to sob uncontrollable, snot dripping off his face.
There were tears on Philip’s face too, as Royce stood up and he and Edward started out of the office. Philip followed close behind, almost tripping as he tried to catch up with them. It didn’t even dawn on Philip to ask if Royce had arranged for him and Edward to be taken out of school for the rest of the day. He didn’t even care one way or the other really.
---
Philip didn’t even remember getting home or walking to his room. But he had gotten there somehow, and was now looking under the bed for Scruffy. “Scruffy,” he called softly, “Mommy is dead!”
A knock resonated from outside the door, and the door opened. The head butler Gerard entered the room quietly; he slipped off his shoes by the closet door. Gerard stood about 5’7” which to the boy always made him seem remarkably tall even though his father was taller. It was the way that Gerard carried himself that made him seem taller. He had brown, short cut hair that seemed to be prematurely graying at the temples, and he always seemed to have a spotless black suit.
Gerard crossed the room quietly. “Master Philip?” He called in almost a whisper, his proper British accent seeming stronger than usual.
Philip crawled out from under the bed, tears streaking his tiny face. “What?” He asked sadly. Philip sat down on the floor next to the bed.
Gerard sat down on the floor next to him. “No one told you this, but,” Gerard said indicating in a tone that if Philip were asked what was about to be revealed was a secret. “Your father has given Scruffy away. It happened almost five minutes after we got word about your dear mother.”
“What?” Philip burst into sobs, and put his head on Gerard’s chest. He had always known his father hated Scruffy, but he couldn’t see his father giving the dog away. True, Scruffy was considered his mother’s dog, but to give it away so quickly after his death, it seemed to be a slap at her memory.
Another thought occurred to Philip, what if his father had given Scruffy away to someone who was going to hurt him? Or even kill him? Philip wasn’t sure if he could handle that thought.
Gerard wrapped his arm around the boy, “I’m sorry.” He whispered. He felt like kissing the boy’s head, but he was sure the one time he showed affection to the boy in the house would be the one time Mister Nichols walked in. Though the butler had nothing but a fatherly affection for the boy, he knew Mister Nichols would fire him and claim otherwise. “I wish I can stay longer, but I have to go.”
Gerard picked the boy up, and tucked him into bed. He remembered to put his shoes back on before he left the room. He hated to think of the pain that boy was going through at the moment.
The whole house was in mourning, and Gerard wished he could take a few hours and mourn properly, or at least sit with the boy. He knew he couldn’t though; the servants had a lot of things that Mister Nichols had requested be done. Mister Nichols was probably apt to be harsher on the servants now, even though they were understaffed due to Thomas’ death.
Gerard had a feeling that this house was going to get a lot less cheerful now that Mrs. Nichols was gone
Author: serialbathera
Fandom: Profiler
Prompt: 007 Days , (fanfic100), Philip Nichols’s Childhood.
Challenge: None
Characters: Philip Nichols, Royce Nichols, Edward Nichols, Dean Walker, Gerard
Characters mentioned: Scruffy
Pairings: None
Rating: Pg-13
Warnings: death, possible animal abuse considering how you read it.
word Count: 858
Summary: What happened to make Philip Nichols want to become a cult leader? This is his untold story of what happened to make him want to start his own family.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters
Author’s notes: For Meg, as per her request.
For the rest of the parts, follow the tag "Path to Odin"
Several days passed, and then one day Philip was coming back from the library where he spent his lunch hour, when his teacher tapped him on the shoulder as he was entering the classroom.
“Master Nichols, you need to go to Dean Walker’s office,” She said before he could go to the desk.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Philip turned and headed into the hallway. Philip walked quickly to the administration offices. He opened the door and walked passed the receptionist to the door marked ‘Dean Virginia Walker.’ He opened this door, and walked inside.
He was greeted by the site of Royce Nichols and Edward Nichols sitting in the two chairs in front of the desk. Dean Virginia Walker was sitting behind her large black desk all prim and proper. She was wearing the dean’s uniform of strict black, and her hair was pulled back into a slick bun. She looked up when he came into the room. “Thank you for coming Master Philip.” She peered at him through her small red cat-eye glasses.
Royce Nichols turned to Philip with a sad sort of smile. “Your mother was in a car accident today. “ Tears started to form in his eyes, and Philip questioned mentally whether they were real or fake. His father continued, “I’m afraid she is dead, Philip, dear. She died along with Thomas.”
Philip moved closer to the door, using the frame to support him. He felt like he was going to faint, he had a feeling his father knew a lot more about what happened then he was saying. Philip watched as his brother began to sob uncontrollable, snot dripping off his face.
There were tears on Philip’s face too, as Royce stood up and he and Edward started out of the office. Philip followed close behind, almost tripping as he tried to catch up with them. It didn’t even dawn on Philip to ask if Royce had arranged for him and Edward to be taken out of school for the rest of the day. He didn’t even care one way or the other really.
---
Philip didn’t even remember getting home or walking to his room. But he had gotten there somehow, and was now looking under the bed for Scruffy. “Scruffy,” he called softly, “Mommy is dead!”
A knock resonated from outside the door, and the door opened. The head butler Gerard entered the room quietly; he slipped off his shoes by the closet door. Gerard stood about 5’7” which to the boy always made him seem remarkably tall even though his father was taller. It was the way that Gerard carried himself that made him seem taller. He had brown, short cut hair that seemed to be prematurely graying at the temples, and he always seemed to have a spotless black suit.
Gerard crossed the room quietly. “Master Philip?” He called in almost a whisper, his proper British accent seeming stronger than usual.
Philip crawled out from under the bed, tears streaking his tiny face. “What?” He asked sadly. Philip sat down on the floor next to the bed.
Gerard sat down on the floor next to him. “No one told you this, but,” Gerard said indicating in a tone that if Philip were asked what was about to be revealed was a secret. “Your father has given Scruffy away. It happened almost five minutes after we got word about your dear mother.”
“What?” Philip burst into sobs, and put his head on Gerard’s chest. He had always known his father hated Scruffy, but he couldn’t see his father giving the dog away. True, Scruffy was considered his mother’s dog, but to give it away so quickly after his death, it seemed to be a slap at her memory.
Another thought occurred to Philip, what if his father had given Scruffy away to someone who was going to hurt him? Or even kill him? Philip wasn’t sure if he could handle that thought.
Gerard wrapped his arm around the boy, “I’m sorry.” He whispered. He felt like kissing the boy’s head, but he was sure the one time he showed affection to the boy in the house would be the one time Mister Nichols walked in. Though the butler had nothing but a fatherly affection for the boy, he knew Mister Nichols would fire him and claim otherwise. “I wish I can stay longer, but I have to go.”
Gerard picked the boy up, and tucked him into bed. He remembered to put his shoes back on before he left the room. He hated to think of the pain that boy was going through at the moment.
The whole house was in mourning, and Gerard wished he could take a few hours and mourn properly, or at least sit with the boy. He knew he couldn’t though; the servants had a lot of things that Mister Nichols had requested be done. Mister Nichols was probably apt to be harsher on the servants now, even though they were understaffed due to Thomas’ death.
Gerard had a feeling that this house was going to get a lot less cheerful now that Mrs. Nichols was gone