#sympathetic roman

Wed, 19 Aug 2020 18:50:39

…

Roman was pacing. He was sure by now he was wearing holes in the floor, his scales up and rattling as he moved, vibrating with his frustration and conflicting thoughts, needing to burn off the extra nervous energy somehow.

Virgil’s bitter laughter was stuck in his head. The look on his face, so defeated and so devastated, so… sure, that what he was saying was true. He thought he was a waste of space, a nuisance, a… danger. And he was… right? Why did thinking that sound so bad, now, when it was what he’d been thinking all along?

Hadn’t he made it clear? He didn’t like Virgil, didn’t trust him, thought he was a danger and a threat and he hated leaving him to his own devices, hated him spending nights alone with Patton, hated knowing he could be lurking literally anywhere, how he slipped into shadows, how he could be totally undectable. If he’d had his way, they would have left Virgil on the planet they found Patton on, without a second glance.

So why did he feel so… guilty, hearing his own words thrown back in his face? That was how he felt, he’d never tried to hide it, but he wasn’t sure now that he was… right.

Because seeing Virgil sprawled on the bathroom floor, blood leaking from his head, seeing him curled on the floor, hyperventilating and clawing at himself, seeing him trapped in his own mind, in whatever horrors his brain had conjured, had shaken something within him, had broken his resolve to dislike and hate the human with all his might.

He had every reason, to hate humans, to distrust them, to not want them anywhere near his family.

But… but if Virgil were any other race, any other species, he wouldn’t hesitate to take Virgil under his wing, to protect him like one of his own, to swear him a life debt for protecting Patton, for saving him, for getting him out.

It wasn’t fair.

He… wasn’t being fair.

He jumped, at a knock on his door, taking a moment to take a deep breath, to settle his scales, before opening the door, not meeting Logan’s eyes.

“Hey, teach.”

“Roman… are you… alright?” He flinched at the question, tail swishing across the floor in agitation, considering trying to bluff his way out of this encounter, before letting out a long breath, slowly shaking his head, instead.

“No. I… don’t think I am.” He mumbled, drawing back from the doorway and sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. “I… it’s my fault, isn’t it? That he hid he was ill. He was right, about what I thought of him, but I don’t think that I was right, anymore. Does that make any sense?” He muttered the last question, feeling Logan settle into his chair, one hand tapping against the desk.

“It does. It was not your fault, not entirely, at least. Likely, your attitude did nothing to help his self esteem or self worth, and did lead to him isolating himself further, but he would likely be doing that anyways. It not a simple cause and effect, Roman. There are plenty of already underlying issues already in place.”

“those scars, Logan. What must they have done to him?” Logan shook his head, hands fidgeting mindlessly as he winced.

“They were harvesting him. Blood, Plasma, Adrenaline, other unique human biochemicals. It was much more… painful, physically, than what was done to me. And once they had drained him dry, they were going to sell him for parts.“ Roman growled, a sound so low and deep he could barely even hear him.

“Roman-”

“It’s barbaric, Logan. I know humans are supposed to be vicious monsters who care nothing for their own but… but that isn’t true! He has clan, Logan, he cried out for them. They took him and tortured him and it doesn’t matter, what species he is that isn’t right!” he yelled, shoving to his feet and starting to pace once more. “it isn’t right, and I haven’t been right, in how I’ve treated him, but it’s so hard, to look at him and not see-“ he broke off, breath catching, scales flattening, almost halving his size, struggling for a long moment to shove away the memories.

“I understand, Roman. You have every reason to be angry and conflicted over his presence here, and I know it is hard to differentiate but you must realize, just like any species, not all humans are the same. He’d been through hell, and instead of it making him cold and cruel he protected Patton, to make sure the same wouldn’t happen to him. He is so focused on everyone else’s wellbeing that he badly neglects his own.” He answered, watching Roman pace, tail swishing back and forth.

“what do I do, Logan? How… I don’t know how to stop, how to change what I feel, when I look at him, the fear that flashes through me every time he moves too fast, every time he steps towards Patton, steps towards you, I know he doesn’t mean to hurt anyone, but that doesn’t change that he could hurt everyone.”

“Stop solely vilifying him. Talk to him. Learn about him. Knowledge of something erases the fear of the unknown. If you can’t trust him, that’s understandable. But you can reach some sort of civil understanding, I’m sure.” Roman let out a soft snort of amusement.

“of course, your advice is to study. Not that you aren’t right, as always, teach.” Logan’s hand did a small twirl, his sign for relief or content in his weaving. None of them could comprehend every movement meaning, no matter how often he tried to explain them all, but they knew the basic styles and attitudes of his motions. “thank you, Logan.” He mumbled, ducking his head, a sign of respect to elders, one he rarely used, rarely admitted to not knowing something or being wrong, but Logan deserved it.

“Thank you for listening. I’ll let you sort out your thoughts.” Logan murmured, brushing against Roman gently, purposefully lingering for a moment in the brief contact in support, as he slipped out the door, and down the hall to his own room. He would try to take his own advice to Patton and get some sleep, though he doubted it would come easily. There was too much, on his mind, his hands struggled to keep track of it all.

Perhaps he’d try and draw, for a bit. He was getting rather good at using two hands simultaneously, and it would give him something to focus on instead of dwelling on his own worries and concerns over Virgil. It would clear his mind, and allow him to try and organize his thoughts into some semblance of coherency, because he was going to have to convince Virgil that they didn’t just care out of guilt, that they wanted him to have a chance at an actual life, and he was sure that was a truth Virgil both didn’t want to face, and didn’t know how to comprehend. But he would have to. Because Logan was not going to let this downward spiral continue a moment longer. Not when it had very nearly cost Virgil his life.

#sanders sides #wibar au #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #sympathetic virgil #sympathetic patton #sympathetic roman #sympathetic logan #alien au #roman angst #emotionial issues

Tue, 18 Aug 2020 22:46:28

Warning for blood/violent imagery.

based on @delimeful ‘s wonderful WIBAR AU

…

Flashes.

The arena, blood on his hands, of all different colors, teeth bared, trying, begging, the other aliens to stop, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone, but they don’t understand or don’t believe him, and then they’re lunging and instinct takes over, and when he blinks, it’s to a puddle of pepto pink ichor and a mangled body in his hands.

…

The cell, he’s back in the cell, and they’re coming, and he wasn’t ready and Patton isn’t hiding and the door opens, and he lunges, biting, scratching, kicking, screaming, the stun batons sending lightning through his veins, spasming his muscles, and he was aware of Patton’s scream, as he’s dragged away, his pretty blood splattering across the floor, and he’s beaten, shocked, kicked, all the while hearing Patton’s anguish as his feathers were stripped from him all over again, only this time, when they throw Patton back in his cell, his eyes are empty and blank, his body broken and still, and there’s nothing left of the chirping little ampen, and there’s nothing left of himself, as he loses his mind, ripping and tearing through the wall, tearing everything in his path to shreds until a blaster goes off and shoots a hole clean through his chest.

…

He’s running. He’s on an alien planet, and he’s running, and he can hear them behind him, they’re catching up, as he tears through the brush and the trees, leading them away, away, away, from camp, and he staggers as a dart hits his neck, the world spinning on it’s axis as he goes down hard. He can feel the chains being shackled around him, the collar fastened onto his neck, and he can’t even breathe, as electricity burns his skin, from the collar, sends him into unconsciousness, and when he wakes, he’s back in the cell. And the nightmare restarts.

…

“no…” He’s walking home, it’s late, the streetlights on, as he slinks through the shortcut through the park. He hates it, but it’s the fastest way home, and he’s never had any trouble, though he’s heard stories of people getting jumped.

“No…” He winces, at a sharp pain in his neck, for a moment thinking he’d been stung by a bee or a wasp, but when he reaches to feel, a small dart comes away in his hand. He stares at it, befuddled, before he feels another sting, stumbling against a tree as the world starts to tilt, trying to stay upright. Cloaked figures, shrouded figures, language he doesn’t know, and he tried to call out for help, tried to get away, but another wash of dizziness stole his breath, and he fainted.

When he woke up, he was on the ship, in the cell.

“NO!” He jolted upright, pulse racing, breath caught in his throat, the cell, the ship, he was on the ship, needle, needle in his arm, what were they taking this time? What else could they take, they were going to sell him for parts, maybe this was finally to off him for the scientists, he felt dizzy and lightheaded, weak, disoriented, maybe the tranq patch had worn off early, maybe he had a chance to get away, maybe-

A hand, a scaled hand came into view, and he hissed, scrambling backwards, falling off the edge of the furniture he was on. One second it was the sterile room, the iron bed, the suited figures, then it was a couch, smooth walls, soft light. His vision flicked between the two and he couldn’t figure out which was the truth and which was the lie, the suited figures turning towards him, batons out, crackling with energy, the scaled figure trying to reach out, trying to say something, but he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t and it burned, and he was dying, he was sure this is what dying felt like, as he scrambled further back, further away, hissing again as the tug pulled the needle out of his arm, pressing his hoodie sleeve against it to stop the bleeding, but the red, red, red, brought him right back, and it was everywhere, and there was too much, and it wasn’t all his, the bodies scattered across the floor, the colors blending like some macabre watercolor painting, swirling and blending and mixing and-

Touch. Touch against his shoulder. He’d curled into a ball, hands over his ears, forehead touching the floor, making himself as small as possible, trying to hide, but the noise was everywhere and they’d found him and he was going to die, going to be sold off for parts and he was so stupid-

Then the touch moved, a small, so small, hand slipping under his chin, gently tilting his head up, feathers tickling his skin, as he met those big, doe eyes. Feathers. Blue. Antennae, moth like. Fluffy. Safe.

Safe?

“Breathe, Virgil. Can you do that? In… out…” the words sounded so far away, and not quite in sync with the mouth movements, but he tried to follow them, tried to understand, tried to copy his movements. “good, kiddo. You’re doing good. Do you know who I am?” The feathery being asked, and his mind stalled. It must have shown on his face, because the being’s dropped, expression sad, and he hated that look on Patton’s face-

“Patton!” He rasped, voice barely a whisper, throat dry and sore, not helped from the hyperventilating he’d just been doing, from the panic attack. “Patton…” his eyes welled up, and he opened his arms, Patton flying into them without a second thought, hugging him as wide as he could around his chest, Virgil careful as he held him, letting his face rest against his soft feathers, mumbling an apology about getting them wet, met with Patton’s relieved little choked laugh.

He was shaking, he couldn’t stop shaking, the room still flickering, time and space folding in on itself, and it was making him dizzy.

Then Patton started doing the chirp, coo, pattern, vibrating against his chest, grounding him as he struggled to get his breathing under control, to force his mind to the present, but it wouldn’t stop slipping.

“s-sorry… I… I’m so-rry…”

“Shhh, you’re ok, kiddo, it’s ok.” He just shook his head, chest constricting, choking on the air, it burned in his lungs and made him want to scream, just to relieve some of the pressure, but there wasn’t enough air.

“virgil. Can you tell me, five things you can see? Take your time.” Logan, crouched down a fair distance away, to give him space.

“Y-you… patton… R-roman… the… the couch and the… the… n-needle" his breath caught again, his panic flaring, eating him up.

“Alright, good, stay with me, Virgil. Four things you can feel.”

“Pa-tton. My hoodie… the fl-floor. B-andages?” he asked, realizing his arms were carefully wrapped in them.

“you hurt yourself. Nothing serious, it’s alright. Three things you can hear.” He managed a deep breath in, forcing air in and out to answer.

“Chirp/coo.” He said, smiling slightly at Patton’s added little trill. “my h-eart, my voice.” He answered, focusing on the feeling of his hands against his hoodie, Patton’s warmth against him.

“Excellent. Two things you can smell?”

“Metal… myself" he wrinkled his nose slightly, smelling his own sweat.

“Last one, one thing you can taste.” Logan’s steady voice, and he thought for a moment.

“Copper.” He answered, looking up, finally, meeting Logan’s eyes for a brief moment, before his gaze flicked to Roman, who stood frozen by the couch, scales half raised in alarm, but also… worry?

“Virgil. How are you feeling?” Logan asked, snapping him back to attention, realizing he’d started to drift.

“um. Sore. Achy. Tired.” He answered, head thumping back against the wall, hissing as it hurt more than expected.

“I was going to warn you about that. We found you fallen over, unconscious on the bathroom floor, bleeding from your head. You’ve been severely ill, and mostly fitfully unconscious, for nearly seven days.” Logan explained.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were so sick!?” Patton scolded, though his voice was gentle.

“i… I didn’t want to bother you. I’ve been sick before. It’s… its fine.”

“no, it isn’t. Virgil. You are severely underweight and malnourished and sleep deprived, all factors that compromise your immune system making it more difficult to fight off disease and you very nearly died because you seemingly cannot comprehend that you are an important member of this crew and we will gladly help if you just ask for it!” He flinched at Logan shouting, his hands clenched into fists. He’d never heard Logan raise his voice, didn’t even know he could, but his mind snagged on what Logan had just said, and he shook his head.

“I… but I’m not. Important. You’re…a family. I’m just a tag along, because you were basically guilted into taking me with. You don’t… want me, here, and that’s fine, I wouldn’t want me here either, so the least I can do is take up the least space and use the least stuff and make myself as little of a nuisance as possible because then maybe I’ll get to stay longer before you get sick of me and kick me off.” Usually he wouldn’t be this candid, but he was tired, and he felt floaty and not all there, his normal anxiety not holding him back.

“Virgil… that’s not true.” Roman added, Virgil’s bitter laugh echoing harshly through the space.

“Sure it isn’t. You’ve made it clear, what you think of me. And you know what? I’m terrified, constantly, that you might be right. Sooner or later I’m going to hurt someone. It’s… it’s the only thing I’m good at, hurting people. Sometimes I think I should just bail, just leave a note and run, before I hurt anyone. Before I ruin it all. Before I ruin this… this amazing little family, you guys have.”

His eyes slipped closed, against his will, exhaustion weighing him down, settling into his bones from the panic attacks. “I w-want it so badly, it h-urts sometimes, but I can’t… I know I can’t have it. Be part of it. Know I’ll just… just be in the way.” He mumbled, not even sure if he was speaking aloud, anymore.

“Virg… we’ll talk about this later, ok? Just… can you make it back to the couch? You need more sleep.” Patton asked, moving off his chest. He nodded, managing to peel his eyes open, stumble to his feet, collapsing face down on the couch before blacking out as soon as his head hit the cushions.

…

“Well. His fever’s broken. There’s no point using these, any further.” Logan, trying to keep his voice steady as he packed up the IV line and supplies, considering hurling the needle out the airlock, just to spite the universe for forcing him to use it.

“I… I need to go. Think. About… things…” Roman poorly explained, darting from the room, as Patton sighed, feathers fluffing and resettling, worried gaze flicking between the doorway Roman had vanished down, Logan storing the medical supplies, and Virgil, face down on the couch. His forehead was a lot cooler, now, and his breathing finally seemed to be normal, deep, steady breaths. His eyes weren’t twitching in his sleep either, a good sign, Patton had learned early on that eye twitches meant bad dreams, nightmares. That was when he would curl up around Virgil’s head and churr softly, a low, rumbling vibration in his chest, that he used to soothe kits, but it also seemed to do the trick on the human. Most of the ampen soothing methods did, which he would have once considered odd, since they relied on empathy to work. But if anything, Virgil had too much empathy, his words playing back in Patton’s mind.

“He thinks we don’t care. We don’t… don’t consider him family, why would he… after everything, still think that?” Patton asked softly, looking up at Logan’s sigh.

“He’s been hurt, Patton. Deeply, psychologically, hurt. He’s so used to being in fight or flight mode, that is all his body knows how to do. His body, his mind, it doesn’t understand, can’t comprehend, safety. And after… after what he went through, how they demeaned him and treated him like a wild animal, like a… a specimen, it’s no wonder that he struggles to comprehend his own self worth, lacks any sense of self esteem or importance. He had to fight every day just to survive, just to keep you safe, and though I am thankful for it, it likely has contributed to his fear of himself. He knows how easily he could hurt any one of us.”

“He won’t though! He’d rather tear himself apart than hurt any of us.” Patton protested.

“I know, Patton. But he clearly doesn’t. He doesn’t take care of himself, he doesn’t trust himself, Patton, and until he starts doing that, understanding that he is wanted and loved and safe, I’m afraid he won’t take care of himself.”

“Then we’ll make sure he does. I will physically fight him.” Patton muttered, determination clear in every bristling feather, and Logan chuckled slightly, shaking his head.

“I would enjoy watching you take down a human, Patton, especially since Virgil would let you, but violence is not going to help in this situation.”

“Still. If he won’t take care of himself, I’m going to make him take care of himself.” He ruffled Patton’s head as he passed the couch, barely containing his smile at the small squeak the motion illicited, stopping at a small tug of his hand.

“Lo? Thank you. For getting him through.” He softened, looking back at Patton, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Of course, Patton. Get some more sleep, now that he’s safe, won’t you?” Patton nodded, drawing away and circling a couple times before settling down curled around Virgil’s head, careful to keep a layer of blanket between them, so he wouldn’t accidentally siphon off energy in his sleep. Virgil needed all of it he could get.

#sanders sides #wibar au #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #sympathetic patton #sympathetic logan #sympathetic roman #sympathetic virgil #sickfic #virgil angst #panic attack #severe panic attack #flashbacks #nightmares #injuries #violence #eventual happy ending

Mon, 17 Aug 2020 22:30:35

~~Next~~

…

Patton cocked his head, a slight frown on his face. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he eased Virgil off of his lap, careful not to wake him as he stood. He rubbed his arms, feeling almost chilled, a shiver running down his spine. Something was wrong.

“Lo? Ro?” He called, and instantly, they appeared from in the kitchen, loosening a bit of the worry growing in his chest, safety in numbers, but something was still niggling at him, eating at his mind, screaming danger.

“Patton. Breathe.” Logan, gently squeezing his shoulders.

“something is wrong.” He answered, panic rising.

“Patton, your eyes…” Roman gasped. He spun, gasping as he saw his reflection, his eyes glowing a dim red. The strange panic pulsed harder, and he flinched, shoving the others down behind him, just as the glass windows of the living room shattered.

His instincts took over, the alarm cry of danger screaming in his head, rushing in his bones, and he growled. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt his family again.

He snarled as he leapt into the fray, not bothering with weapons, his nails sharpening into claws, his fangs bared and ready to tear, as he immediately pounced on one of the assailants, rolling across the floor in a bloody scrap.

Roman had his katana drawn, trying to fend off the attackers, Logan at his back with his crescent moon blades, Patton darting between them all with his extra speed, blocking the hits the others couldn’t see coming, keeping them away from the couch, away from Virgil, whom they seemed to hone in on.

There were so many of them, too many of them, and they were faltering. Roman had a slash across his cheek, Logan was bleeding from his arm. Patton was scraped and bruised, still snarling and spitting furious, like an angry alley cat, trying to defend all three of his family members, unable to keep up, unable to stop one from getting through his line of defense, eyes locking on Virgil as one of the attacking vampires reached him, a scream building in his throat.

Then there was a brilliant burst of black violet light that threw them all off their feet. Patton blinked furiously, breath freezing at the sight before him.

Virgil was standing, eyes a deep, electric storm violet that covered the whites. The light sparked from his hands, wreathed up his arms, wove around him almost like a cloak. The power was so black it was white, shifting between the two, lightning crashing against his skin, the power radiating out from him, his entire being aglow with it. The other attacking vampires hissed, focusing on their target, leaving the others alone. A smile split Virgil’s face, a cold, cruel thing, that made Patton shiver.

“You’ve made a mistake.” Virgil’s voice was an echoing boom, thunder crashing, rattling window panes, shaking the earth, a powerful reverb to it that had all of them wincing as it echoed in their mind.

In an instant, Virgil’s hands twisted in a complicated pattern, glowing circles and runes appearing in the air before him, drawn with his fingers, then he threw his arms wide and the spell circle blew wide, encompassing all the charging vampires, enveloping them in devouring darkness. Their screams were the only sound to the room as they dissolved into smoke, and with a flick of his fingers, the dark spell was gone, along with the attackers. Then Virgil turned to the three of them, his eyes still burning nearly black, novas of light crackling across his skin. Roman shoved to his feet, katana drawn, standing guard before Patton and Logan.

“It’s not safe here.” Virgil’s voice still boomed as he held out a hand, and Roman hesitated. He didn’t want to hurt Virgil, but this was scaring him. This wasn’t anything he’d ever seen before, and he wouldn’t let anyone, even Virgil, harm the others.

“Roman. It’s ok.” Patton murmured, gently pushing down his hand holding the sword, stepping around him, taking Virgil’s outstretched hand. “I trust you.” He whispered to Virgil, noting the slight smile that played at Virgil’s lips.

“I know, baby bat. Thank you.” Virgil replied, squeezing his hand, before looking back up at the others. Logan was next, hesitantly placing a hand on his arm, Roman following suit with a huff.

Virgil closed his eyes, weaving another spell circle in the air, one more complicated than Logan had ever studied, then the world blurred like a wet water color painting, shifting and spinning around them, slowly resettling until it was solid again, and they were in a completely different place.

“And I thought I was one for dramatic entrances.” A low whistle was accompanied with the words, and the group spun to face the small table against the wall, Remy leaning back in it, a smirk on his face, that slowly faded as he noticed the sparking light emanating from Virgil, expression shifting to shock as Virgil turned to look at him, eyes nearly black as coals, his veins pulsing with dark light.

“they found us. Didn’t know where else to go. Keep… keep them safe…” Virgil swayed on his feet, and Remy swore, barely managing to catch Virgil in his arms as the magic instantly vanished, the black leaking from his eyes as they rolled back and he slumped unconscious, skin ashen.

“Shit, Anx, you really know do know how to make an entrance.” Remy whispered, watching with baited breath as Virgil groaned, eyes blearily blinking open. He tsked scoldingly.

“Did you have a stroke and forget the first lesson of magic, you moron?!” Remy shook him lightly, and Virgil hissed, rolling his eyes.

“Be careful what you cast-“

“If it’s too much it’ll draw from your lifeforce itself.” Remy chorused with him, glaring down at him angrily.

“Cool. Now bitch, explain.”

“attacked in our house. Pack of ‘em. Was… was the only option.” Virgil mumbled, eyes slipping shut once more.

“Nuh uh, babe, not on my watch.” Remy muttered, silver light enveloping him for a moment, channeling his own magic into Virgil. Almost instantly, Virgil’s complexion evened out, his breathing steady, and the glow faded from Remy. Virgil didn’t open his eyes, but he stirred slightly, letting out a deep breath and relaxing in Remy’s arms, the pained tension leaving his body. It was a deep, restful sleep of recovery, Remy had made sure of that. It was his specialty, after all.

He took a deep breath, then turned his attention to the others, scowling as he saw Patton, standing with Roman and Logan.

“Someone wanna explain why you all showed up with my half dead adopted brother and him?” Remy asked accusingly, glaring at Patton, who waved nervously. Roman opened his mouth, but Logan stepped forwards first, eyes narrowed.

“Actually, I would say that it was you who led trouble to us. Given that Virgil has been dormant in his role as Anxiety, and you have been searching for Deceit, it seems probable that you were tailed when you paid us a visit, thereby leading your enemies to our doorstep. The only reason we got out is because he used magic more powerful and complex than any I’ve read about.” Remy softened, looking back down at Virgil.

“Of course he did. It takes a ton of magic to teleport two people, let alone three, including yourself. No wonder it pulled at his life force.” Remy sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I was being careful.” He muttered, pushing back Virgil’s hair, before lifting him with a sigh and depositing him on the couch. In a literal blink of an eye, Patton was there, Virgil’s head in his lap. “He’ll be all right in a bit, just needs some, well, sleep. Remy smirked slightly, pushing up his dark glasses.

“So what do we do? He said the house isn’t safe anymore, those vamps are probably watching it. So now what?” Roman asked, pacing, eyes never leaving Remy, full of distrust.

“They seemed to be targeting Virgil specifically, and if it’s true they did indeed follow you to our location, it stands to reason they are after ‘the coven’ as you referred to it. It seems our goals now align. If we wish for these vampires to leave us alone, we must find their leader, and therefore find Deceit. Whether we like it or not, we must now work together.” Logan stated, standing near the arm of the couch, hands clasped behind him. Roman scowled, not halting in his pacing.

“You think I like it either, pretty boy? The last thing I wanted was your pet vampire in my secret hideout.” Roman growled, katana half drawn, silver light sparking on Remy’s hands.

“Say that again, I dare you.” Roman hissed out.

“Gladly, bitch-“

“Enough, you two. Just… enough. I get it. You don’t like me, don’t trust me, don’t want me here. I… I get it. But I’m not leaving. He’s part of my family, and I will do anything to protect him. So can we skip the hating me part, and focus on the problem?” Patton said, voice tired instead of biting, as he looked between Remy and Roman. Remy bit his tongue, looking hard at Patton for a moment, before sighing.

“Alright. Alright, fine, fine, for now. Once we figure this out, I make no promises.” Roman hissed again, cut off by Patton’s glare.

“I’ll just have to change your mind about me by then! Now, what do you know?”

…

He was exhausted. He was slumped against the wall, crouched uncomfortably, his restraints biting into his skin, keeping him from any kind of sleeping position. Every time he drifted off, the collar dug into his neck, jerking him awake. He was stained with blood, but his eyes were still defiant as he heard footsteps approaching, glaring up at the vampire who stopped before him.

“Well. That certainly went interesting. Seems I underestimated your little Virgil. He’s a slippery little shadow, I’ll give him that.” He smirked, relief filling his chest, Virgil got away. He’d always been smart, been strong, the strongest of the three of them, really.

“If you were smart you’d let him go. He’s capable of far more than you can imagine.” He kept his voice even, making sure the exhaustion didn’t give him away, keeping his cool façade intact, as the vampire grinned, fangs showing.

“Oh, but so am I. Something interesting happened, when my followers stormed their house. See, I expected four hunters. I didn’t expect three hunters and one very protective vampire. Wouldn’t you know, my coven turned a human a few months back, and got chased off before they could drag him back to the nest. What a lovely coincidence!” The vampire clapped his hands, green eyes flashing as his heart sunk.

He knows what that means. If vampires from this clan turned Virgil’s friend, and this vampire is the leader of the clan, then Virgil is in grave danger. He can see through Virgil’s friend’s eyes, can listen through his ears, can get inside his head and control him like a thrall, if he’s close enough. There’s an enemy on the inside, and no one, including Virgil’s vampire, knows it.

“Oh, don’t look so glum! You’ll get to see each other again soon, won’t that be great? Now, I’ve gotta go prepare my next move, but don’t you worry about a thing, pet. I’ll be back to play with you soon.” The vampire patted his cheek, making him wince, before he sauntered away, whistling, leaving him shaking.

He closed his eyes against the wash of helpless hopelessness filling him from the inside out. There’s nothing he can do.

He sunk down into his apathy, shutting himself off from the pain, from any emotion, because there is nothing, nothing he can do.

Sat, 15 Aug 2020 19:54:52

~~Next~~

based on @delimefulwibar

Warning for some disturbing imagery/body horror this chapter. Virgil’s having nightmares.

…

Fear.

Pounding, aching fear.

Shadowy figures surrounded him, discussing him in words he could almost hear, hushed voices he could almost understand, and it grated at him, it hurt his ears. He tried to cover them, but found he couldn’t move, not a muscle, his eyes were open but he couldn’t even blink, his fingers wouldn’t even twitch, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest, but despite his panic his breathing remained steady and even. The shadows moved closer, their whispers growing louder, echoing in his head, screaming tempests against his ear drums, and he wanted it to stop, he needed it to stop, but it just grew louder, and louder, and then it was the suited beings again, holding a scalpel, and he screamed, as his chest was sliced open, the flesh peeled away to reveal the organs beneath, his heart visible through the blood leaking from him, and he realized though he was screaming in his mind, he wasn’t making any sound, his vocal chords as paralyzed as the rest of him, and he couldn’t look away, as they started ripping out his insides, tearing him apart, the pain splintering through his being, blacking out his vision, and he tried, he tried desperately to writhe and claw and fight his way free, but couldn’t even lift his head, and he was aware of them adding new parts, shoving metal and wires and circuit boards into him, the pop and crackle of electricity against his skin shocking him, sending him into spasms that somehow defied whatever drug they’d given him, back arching at the intense, radiating heat flowing up his spine, and he finally did break free, break out of whatever drug they’d used, a keening, desperate wail shoving past his lips as he shoved himself off the table, as he snarled and clawed and bit and slashed, anything, everything, to get free, until he’d fought off the beings, his breathing ragged and uneven as he looked at the monster they’d made him, all mechanical parts and twisted limbs, broken bones and spasming muscle.

“Virgil?” Suddenly a shadow Logan was there, looking down at him, head tilted and eyes empty, hands strangely still, assessing him like the specimen he was and he shuddered, twitching uncontrollably.

“No. That isn’t Virgil.” Patton, voice hollow, and he screamed again, because his feathers were torn from his body, bent and broken nibs trickling blood down his wings, though he didn’t seem to care. “Virgil wouldn’t do this to me. And he did.” He shook his head, trying to deny it, but memories rushed back, his hands, moving against his will, the metal twisting around his bones, jerking him around like a marionette, Patton, begging, pleading, but he couldn’t stop, the single thought in his mind echoing destroy, destroy, destroy. His hands, ripping handfuls of feathers, feathers flying around the room, getting stuck in his grinning teeth, his manic laugh, his twisted soul.

“No… nonononono…” He curled tight on the ground, ignoring the fire racing through him, the intense, burning, heat, trying to make sense of this, of anything, noticing for the first time his hands were stained red, seeing Patton’s agonized face in his head, his hands on his throat, pressing down, down down-

“Virgil!” Roman’s voice rocked his world, and suddenly his eyes snapped open, hissing at the sudden brightness, too confused to understand anything, vision blurry, from tears, he realized, his breathing stuttering in and out, barely enough to keep from passing out, his throat tight, barely a pinhole of space for air to wheeze in and out of, his chest felt so tight, so constricted, and there wasn’t enough air, and he was hot, why was he so hot, the wires, the wires twisting through his veins, no, he had to get them out, they would make him hurt them, hurt Patton, he couldn’t hurt Patton!

He started scratching at himself, clawing at himself frantically, uncaring of the wetness slipping down his face, he had to stop it, he couldn’t-

Bloody feathers, crushed neck, broken wings, shattered body, he couldn’t-

Hands. Hands on him. He hissed, growled, tried to shove them away, but he was weak, so weak, he couldn’t do anything, couldn’t get away, and they were stopping him, and he was going to hurt everyone, he had to let go, he had to stop himself, he was just a monster, just a toy, just a broken sack of bits and pieces that didn’t even fit together right anymore, why couldn’t they just let him stop?

“please. Please, I can’t, I can’t, I won’t, i… i…” He doubled over, curled into a ball, shaking so hard his teeth were chattering, feeling as if he was shattering into a thousand pieces, broken and stomped on and wrecked.

“kiddo. I need you to breath.” He flinched back, away from Patton, eyes wide with fear, shaking his head frantically, as he scooted away, the grip on his hands letting him go.

“n-no… no! I’ll h-hurt y-y-you they’ll m-make me h-h-hurt-“ he broke off, running out of air, all of it dedicated to keeping the spots in his vision from growing larger, from taking over and plunging him into black.

“virgil. You have never, never ever, hurt me. And they can’t hurt us, anymore. Do you remember that? We’re safe now, remember? You broke us out of there, and kept us safe. You’re safe, Virgil. We’re safe. We’re ok. We’re ok.” Patton repeated softly, using the gentle chirp of his native tongue, ruffling encouragingly when Virgil finally looked up at him, struggling for a few moments, before tentatively chirping it back.

“We’re… we’re… ok.” He echoed slowly, tongue thick in his mouth, head pounding, it hurt to think, it hurt to do anything, but he forced his mind to remember, to remember what he was missing, flashes of a slim, multi armed figure, of a bulky, scaled one, of a… a ship, and he managed a slightly larger, shaky breath.

“M-Mindscape?” He managed, and Patton nodded, eyes soft with worry.

“That’s right, kiddo. You got sick, do you remember that?” He remembered feeling not great, but that was normal. He remembered being dizzy, but that was all. He shook his head, feeling confused again, feeling slow and tired and hazy.

“That’s ok, Virgil. I just wanna help, ok? Will you let me do that?” Patton asked, taking a small step closer. “Will you let me help?” His gaze flicked to the others in the room, pulling at a dull memory, at familiarity, he knew them, knew them and they didn’t spark… fear. Not quite. But the scaled one’s gaze was sharp and angry, and the crystal one’s gaze was sharp and piercing, and both sent unease tingling down his spine. But Patton was asking, and he trusted Patton, and if Patton trusted them, then they couldn’t be bad.

“O-o-Ok.” He managed, letting out a soft sigh when Patton closed the distance between them, resting a hand on his leg, and instantly, the fight and stress drained out of him, eyes fluttering shut.

“You’re gonna be ok, kiddo. I promise.” Then nothing.

…

“He’s hotter, Lo.” Patton said, voice shaking, as he felt Virgil’s forehead. Sweat coated his skin, and he was panting for breath, shaking, obviously in pain, not just from the lines of red up and down his arms, where he’d started clawing at himself, before Roman stopped him. “he’s getting worse.“

“We need to get him to drink. He’s severely dehydrated. I… hate to suggest this, but IVs may be the best option here. I know, it will cause added emotional strain, but his body does not have the strength or resources right now to fight off this illness. And I’d rather have him be upset or afraid than… than dead.” His words caused Patton to draw in his feathers, shrinking to nearly half his normal size, and he buried his face against Virgil’s side. Roman’s scales shifted, scraping against each other as they flattened, conflicting emotions racing through him.

He didn’t like Virgil. Didn’t trust him, wouldn’t have him here, if it had been up to him, but the thought of him… dying, still sent a spike of unease through him, one he could pretend was just for Patton, who was so attached to Virgil.

“ok. If it’s the only way, ok.”

He disinfected and bandaged Virgil’s arms first, before letting Roman shift him back onto the couch, fetching the medical supplies and hooking up the bags. Finally, he was standing over Virgil with the IV line in hand. All he had to do was insert it. He found himself incredibly resistant, now, to the idea, now that he actually was doing this, mind flashing to the moments he’d seen in the vidi, the pain and agony that had accompanied nearly every experience with a needle, but this was different. This was to help.

So he swiftly located the vein on the human’s wrist, slipping the needle in and securing it with gauze and tape, relieved when Virgil did no more than moan slightly, rolling onto his side and curling into a ball. He doubted the reaction would be so placid when he actually woke up to find a needle in his arm, but that was a future worry.

“Alright. That should help hydrate him, as well as give him some of the basic nutrients he is sorely lacking in, as well as some very moderate medicines. I doubt anything we have would do him any harm, but I don’t want to take chances and accidentally make things worse. Patton… you need to sleep.” He added, looking at the disheveled ampen, who shook his head.

“No, no, no! I have to stay! What if he wakes up?”

“He won’t for a few hours, at the very least, which is long enough for you to get some sleep. You haven’t slept since we found him.”

“Well neither have you! You’ve been pacing yourself silly!” He sighed, shoulders slumping.

“Alright. You’re right. If Roman stays on watch and promises to get us if anything changes, will you come rest with me?” he asked, knowing Patton wouldn’t turn down that offer, not with how rarely he was willing to offer tactile comfort, but they could both use some, right now.

“Ro? I know you don’t like him, but-”

“I’ll take care of him. I promise, Patton.” Roman swore, kneeling down so Patton could hug him, smiling as he butted against the underside of his chin, before stepping back, chirping an ampen thanks, hesitantly following Logan down the hall and into his room, Roman hearing the door slide shut.

He let out a low breath, scales flattening as he tried to calm himself, staring down at Virgil’s unconscious form.

“I don’t know what to make of you. I will never say this out loud again, but you terrify me. And I will not lose another family, to humans. But… every time you panic or lose control or lash out, it’s always at yourself. It’s always to protect Patton. You always choose to harm yourself over any of us, but you’re still a human, a death worlder, a dangerous, violent, creature.” He said, though it sounded much less convincing now, that it usually did in his arguments with Logan or his silent fuming.

Virgil moved slightly, his breath hitching, and his face creased, as if sensing Roman’s displeasure.

“no… please… m-mom…” Virgil mumbled, trying to reach out to something that wasn’t there, something only in his mind, and after a moment, Roman realized Virgil was crying, curling tighter.

He’d known Virgil had been stolen off his planet, but he’d never thought about the implications of it. He hadn’t considered that Virgil had clan, would have a mother or a father, that he’d lost everything, to aliens, without even having a chance to fight to keep it.

Roman knew how it felt, to lose everything, in the blink of an eye.

“and then you go and say something like that.” He sighed, shifting into the chair left beside the couch, hesitantly reaching out to brush back the human’s hair, mimicking the motion he’d seen Patton do countless times, to soothe or relax the human, surprised as Virgil instantly settled, a shaky breath escaping him before his body seemed to go lax once more, leaning into his touch.

“this doesn’t mean I like you. It’s only because I promised Patton.” He grumbled, not moving away, despite himself.

Fri, 14 Aug 2020 13:47:32

Set in @delimeful ’s wonderful WIBAR AU. Virgil gets sick, and the others struggle to help him, not only with his illness, but the clear underlying emotional issues.

…

It was quiet, on the Mindscape.

Logan was reading, absently twirling his fingers and hands as he studied, recording information, though he was certain most of it would prove false, as it was the little that was reported about humans. Most were comparable to ghost stories or urban legends, but there were a few that seemed more credible, that he hoped would give some more insight into humans in general.

Roman was off working out somewhere, sparring, he insisted it was just to keep sharp, but they all knew it was because he didn’t trust the human on board not to go feral and kill them any second, despite Virgil’s rather shy and withdrawn personality. Still, at least he was getting his aggression out elsewhere, and not by actually fighting or snarking at the true object of his emotions. He was doing better, still, Logan would give him that, but there was a long way to go.

He could hear Patton pitter pattering about in the kitchen, chirping and warbling to himself, making his lips twitch up into a smile. It had been far too quiet, without the little Ampen aboard, too much silence to drown in. It was a comfort he hadn’t realized he’d grown accustomed to, hearing Patton hum and chirp and sing all day. Now it was also a relief, a steady reminder their friend was back home, safe and sound, and he frowned again, thinking of how close they had come to losing him for good. That they would have, had it not been for Virgil.

Speaking of…

“Patton?” He asked, stepping into the kitchen, the Ampen stopping his trilling as he set the kettle on the stove, giving him one of his warm, happy smiles, that seemed to actually light up the room.

“Yeah, Lo? Everything ok?” Patton’s antennae twitched slightly, and he focused back on the present.

“Yes, I believe so, I was simply wondering if you’d seen Virgil today. He is usually awake by now. I was hoping to discuss some… perhaps sensitive topics, that I picked up on during our vidi.”

It was true. He hadn’t seen much, with how fast it had all turned, and spiraled out of hand, and though Virgil and him had been having question and answer sessions, the ones he really wanted to ask seemed more… personal. So, he’d kept them to himself, and simply continued his observations, and studied up on the information available to him.

And what he’d noticed was… concerning, to say the least. He was certain the human wasn’t sleeping enough. Unlike most species, humans could run on limited sleep for an extended period of time, but he was slowly becoming aware that just because humans had the capability to do something, didn’t mean it was natural or good for them to do it. They could survive grievous injuries that would have killed any other species, but it came at great physical and mental cost. They could survive intense radiation, but they would sicken slowly and die. They could imbibe substances that a single sip would be deadly to himself, but even in small amounts, it inhibited a human’s survival instincts and weakened them.

So just because Virgil was running on, at his best guess, four to five hours of sleep a day, didn’t mean that was anywhere near the healthy range of a human’s normal requirements. He’d noticed some of the side effects so commonly, he’d thought they simply were how humans were, until the Vidi gave him glimpses at others, who lacked the bags under their eyes, the deep bruising, that Virgil always had. Virgil was often unsteady on his feet, “light headed” he called it, he often stared out into space for minutes at a time, without registering anything that was said or happening around him, he ran into things, doorframes, corners of furniture, he stumbled and often had to lean against something to regain his balance.

The other issue was his diet. Logan was absolutely certain that Virgil was not eating nor drinking enough. With his permission, he’d taken his heart rate, he’d calculated how many calories his body must burn, at the least, throughout a day. With no physical activity, no exertion, the very base level of sleep, Virgil was missing at least hundreds, if not nearly a thousand, necessary calories, and that was if he were in a relaxed state, which he never was. The human was endlessly jumpy and frightened and twitchy, and he had admitted that his heart rate was much higher than it should be, most of the time, due to his constant state of high alert. But despite this, he ate nearly the least at meals, always pushing food around his place, making excuses to take small portions, at least half the time Logan was certain he hadn’t eaten at all until he was forced to at their daily dinner together, and only then because he didn’t want to upset Patton. Based on his limited understanding, Virgil was immensely underweight and incredibly sleep deprived, both dangerously unhealthy states for humans.

“oh! I peeked in on him a bit ago. He’d just woke up, said he was going to take a shower. I’m kinda surprised he isn’t out here yet.” Patton frowned, his feathers fluffing in distress.

“I see. I’ll go check on him, Patton. Save me a cup?” He smiles as Patton’s face lights up again, only half surprised as Patton jumps at him, hugging him. He carefully supports the Ampen, holding him close, allowing his head to rest against Patton’s small, fluffy shoulder.

“Thanks, Lo. For looking out for him.” Patton mumbled, as Logan let him go, setting him back down on the counter.

“Of course, Patton. It’s the least I can do. He deserves to not only be safe, but feel safe. I am happy to help make that happen.” Patton’s feathers pulsed his trademark light blue, a sign of happiness, that made Logan’s hands flutter, trying to record the warmth in his chest, as he turns away.

…

He woke up with a groan, pushing the cupboard door open, jumping as his door opened, hitting his head against the back of the cupboard at the sudden movement, breath speeding wildly, before he registered Patton’s head poking in, concerned eyes on him.

“Hey, kiddo. Just checking in. Everything ok?” He sighed, but pushed back his exhaustion, summoning a small smile, making it as reassuring and genuine as possible, not difficult, faced with a small ball of fluff.

“I’m alright, Pat. Just catching up on some zee’s. Was gonna go shower.” Patton nodded, hopping into his arms for a quick snuggle, before chirping a happy goodbye and vanishing out the door.

He slumped back against the pylon behind him with another groan, rubbing his hands across his face, then up into his hair, wincing as he felt his hair stick straight up, matted with sweat. He’d stayed in bed far later than usual, but he hadn’t slept more. The night had been plagued with nightmares and sleep paralysis, filling him with terror so deep he couldn’t even scream, could merely panic until he passed out once more, tossing and turning restlessly.

He felt shivery, cold, and his head spun just a bit as he stood, his stomach turning at the motion, vertigo rocking him as he leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to get his bearings.

“fine. I’m fine.” He muttered, taking a few deep breaths in and out, before making his way to the door, listening for a few moments to make sure he couldn’t hear Roman anywhere nearby, he didn’t think he could handle the Crav’n in his current state.

Which was normal and healthy and perfectly fine. He had to be fine.

He made it to the bathroom with minimal stumbling, his vision barely swimming in and out, as he stripped, and turned on the water, hot enough it would probably burn any other members of their little band, but he just sighed in relief as he stepped in, letting the water run over him, soothe the aches building in his muscles. He let out a sigh, halfheartedly scrubbing at his hair, zoning out as he watched the steam.

As he watched, it seemed to form a shape, to swirl into a nebulous form, and his breathing stuttered, heart stopping, as he stared in fear at the suited figure, one of his captors, a needle stabbing down towards him, and he flinched back, the world blurring and swirling and fading out around him, static roaring through his ears, his heart racing as static filled his vision as well. Distantly, he heard knocks, someone maybe calling his name, then he felt his legs give out, his head hit something hard, and the world went black.

…

“Virgil? Are you alright?” He heard a loud thump, a crash, and his eyes widened, knocking again. “Virgil? If you do not answer me, I am going to enter. Virgil!” Nothing. He threw open the door, breath catching, freezing in place at the sight.

Virgil was sprawled across the bathroom floor, unconscious. His breathing seemed somewhat labored and shallow, and he could hear the slight wheeze to it from the doorway. What caught his eye first were the endless collection of scars, all across his body, covering nearly every inch of his skin, and it turned his stomach, it made him sick, the level of trauma and abuse Virgil must have endured. He’d known it wasn’t good, known he’d been a lab rat, an experiment, a being to harvest then sell off the parts once he was drained dry, but knowing it and seeing the scars, the marks of old burns from the stun batons, was something else entirely. And nothing Virgil had said had indicated the violence against him to be to this extent. He felt another surge of appreciation, for Virgil having protected Patton.

The second thing, that finally forced him into motion, was the small pool of red forming around the human’s head, likely where the back of his skull had impacted with the floor. Quickly, he grabbed a towel from off the rack, and rolled Virgil onto his side, wiping away the blood from his neck and hair, to see where to apply the pressure. He breathed a sigh of relief as he located the wound, surprisingly small, given the amount of blood loss, and he was confident a few moments of pressure would easily stop it.

“ROMAN!” He shouted with all his might, voice shaking and unsteady, hearing the crashing footsteps of the Crav’n immediately, the being sliding into the doorway mere moments later, scales raised to their extremes, teeth bared, ready to fight, no doubt hoping for an excuse to fight the human.

“Logan? What’s-“ Patton darts in around Roman’s legs, eyes widening as he instantly is at Virgil’s side, trembling, eyes wide as saucers.

“I need help. Roman, he’s heavy, I need-“

“Ok. Ok, teach, I got you. Let’s get him dressed, then I’ll move him to the couch. What’s… what happened?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I knocked and heard a crash, when I entered, he was like this. I suspect it has something to do with his malnutrition and sleep deprivation.” He answered, focusing on carefully pulling Virgil’s hoodie over his head, hands clenching sharply as one brushes his forehead. “he’s burning up.”

“That’s what happens when he’s… when he’s sick. Humans get all hot and shivery and sometimes their stomach hurts and they can’t eat. But that only happened on the… on the ship. When… when it was really bad.” His voice wavered, feathers flattening.

“I would suspect that he has been feeling ill for a couple of days now, if it’s grown severe enough to make him pass out. His normal temperature is around 98.6 to 99, I would estimate his to be closer to one hundred and three. Has he seemed off to you, Patton?”

“He’s spent less time with me. Less time out of his room. I thought he just needed some space, but… but he was trying to hide he was sick, wasn’t he?”

“Why would he do that? Did he think we’d just abandon him like some deathworlder would an injured comrade?” Roman snorted disdainfully, helping pull pants onto the human, though Patton could see the concern hiding behind his outrage.

“Contrarily, he probably didn’t want to be a burden. To use up more of our resources and time. He constantly sees himself as lesser, as the least important of the group, therefore the one who should take up the least space, least time, least amount of food. Surely, you’ve noticed, Roman.”

“I…hadn’t. I’ll take him now, Pat.” He mumbled softly, gently shooing him back as he scooped Virgil into his arms, surprised at how light the human was, his head lolling limply against his chest, his cheeks flushed, while the rest of his face was even paler than usual. He could feel the frantically rapid beat of his heart, his eyes flicking uneasily under their lids, and his scales flattened in concern. As much as he didn’t trust the human, he didn’t want to see him hurting, either. And if what Logan said was true, Virgil had not only been hurting, but hurting himself, out of, what? Loyalty? Worry? He just couldn’t get a handle on him.

Then again, he hadn’t tried very hard to get to know him, or to give him a chance. But there was something in seeing him so vulnerable, without the usual piercing stare and silent slink, that made him soften a bit, made him remember that despite being one of the most fearsome creatures in the universe, that Virgil was essentially a child, by human standards. He was so thin, too. He could count his bones, under that hoodie. No wonder he was always cold, he had no layer of fat on his bones.

And those scars…

Well. It was enough to almost make him rethink his view on Virgil, at least, as he laid him down on the couch in the common area, Patton immediately taking a seat by his head, brushing his hands soothingly through Virgil’s hair, as the human shook, muttering something in his sleep that was undecipherable, though the tone of fear was impossible to miss, as his hand clenched against the fabric.

“We need to break his fever. Blankets, Roman? I’ll get you a washcloth and water for his forehead, Patton. If he wakes, he is likely to be disoriented or possibly even hallucinate, because of the fever. However, I have no doubt he will calm immensely upon registering your presence. You are… his lifeline, Patton.” Patton nodded, continuing to focus on Virgil, doing the coo chirp pattern used to soothe babies, one of the first things Virgil had mimicked back to him, back on that awful ship.

“He’ll… he’ll be ok, right? He just needs some sleep and he’ll be okay?” His voice trembled, and Logan’s hands clasped behind his back, eyes darting as he looked for the right words to say.

“I don’t know. There’s so little information, Patton, I keep looking and there’s just… not enough, to help him, in any meaningful way. There’s no way of knowing if this is just a ‘flu’ or if it is something more severe. I know his heart rate is high and his breathing rasping, but I don’t know if that’s the result of the illness or simply stress, I would give him medicine, but I don’t know what he can have, what would be helpful, and I don’t know what to do if it’s something we aren’t equipped to handle!” He exploded, pacing the floor somewhat frantically, hands flailing wildly, wincing as one smacked the wall. “I don’t know what to do, but wait.” He said, softer, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his hand, looking up as Roman came to stand before him, gently patting one of his arms.

“It’s ok, Lo. No one expects you to have all the answers. We know you’ll do your best. You always do.” Logan nodded, pulling himself together somewhat, striding off to the kitchen, Roman heading down the hall to raid the extra blankets from the closets.

“you’ll be ok, kiddo. I promise.” Patton murmured, nuzzling against Virgil’s cheek, giggling as Virgil mumbles again, leaning into his touch, hand unclenching, face relaxing minutely. When Logan came back, he huffed fondly, Patton curled up against Virgil’s shoulder, just a ball of puffed up blue feathers, pulsing soothingly.

#wibar au #sickfic #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #sympathetic virgil #sympathetic roman #sympathetic patton #sympathetic logan #virgil angst #like loads of it #eventual happy ending #flashbacks #anxiety attacks #past trauma #past abuse #minor blood

Fri, 14 Aug 2020 11:21:51

~~Next~~

…

“Howdy doodie, ghostly gaggle, how goes it?” Remus asked, reappearing in their commons, keeping his voice a low almost whisper, despite his buzzing energy, careful of disturbing Virgil.

He’d been laid across the couch, his head in Roman’s lap, who was absently playing with his hair, a slight frown on his face as he gazed at Virgil’s too pale, too still form. He was a bit surprised, to see Patton and Janus were gone from the room, he figured they’d be hovering like a pair of mother hens, though he wasn’t as surprised to find Logan missing, no doubt he was trying to figure out what exactly the living occupants of the house had done to their little shadow.

“Hey, Rems.” Roman murmured noncomitally in response, not breaking his focus on Virgil for a single moment, and he frowned, slipping onto the armrest behind Roman, perching atop it, wrapping his arms around Roman, resting his head on his shoulder.

“It isn’t your fault, Ro.” Roman huffed, shaking his head.

“But it is! I drove him away, I’m the one who said those hurtful things, I was scared, and so I scared him, and Janus was right, who am I, to make him more afraid of himself than he already is?” Roman’s voice cracked, and Remus could feel the remorse and guilt practically radiating off of Roman.

“But you didn’t mean it, Ro. I know you didn’t. I say shit all the time I don’t really mean, and you still forgive me for it. This isn’t any different.”

“It is so. I’ve known you for over a century. Nothing you could say would drive me away, but I keep thinking…”

“A dangerous pastime, I know.” Remus quoted, making Roman huff again, a tinge of laughter to it, that he counted as a win, along with the small flicker of a smile.

“What if you had said that, about me, when you first were drawn here? How different, would it have been? I was so far gone, already. If you’d treated me as I treated him, I don’t think I would have come back from it.” Remus hummed, thinking.

It was true, that by the time he’d wandered to the property, drawn like a moth to a flame by the unstable energy, the swirling miasma of hate and negativity and power, Roman had been barely recognizable as a human soul. He’d burned so bright and angry, instead of becoming a wraith, he was more likely to become a banshee, to howl to the winds, to rampage and scream and tear until the sound sent the place crumbling down around him. The edges of corruption were there, sinking into his spirit, and Roman was right that the wrong move would have sent him over. It was one of the very few times Remus had been patient in his life, weathering the worst of Roman’s rage, the worst of the power directed his way, at his invasion of the space, until Roman had worn himself out enough he was nearly lucid, enough to understand that Remus didn’t mean any harm, anyways.

“I don’t think so.” He said, ponderingly, Roman stiffening in surprise. He slid off the arm of the couch, idly standing and tapping his chin as he thought. “I don’t think that would have broken you. I think it would have made you mad. Angry. Angry at me, which would have been just as effective, as the more… gentle approach I took.”

“Remus, me being angry was the whole problem!” Remus shook his head fervently.

“No no no, you being angry at your family was the problem. You resenting being stuck in a place you hated was the problem. You were directing all your emotion at something intangible, at a memory of a thing that didn’t exist anymore. I think if I’d given you something to hate in the now, given you me, to really, truly rage at, it would have brought you to the present. It would have made you realize what was past is past, and there’s nothing to be done about it. I think we would have gotten to the same place, just down a different road.” He looked up, nearly laughing at the slightly awestruck expression on Roman’s face, before shrugging and smirking. “Or you would have lost your marbles entirely, who’s to say?” Roman snorted, freezing as Virgil shifted, though he didn’t wake, merely rolled over onto his side. “He’s a lot like you. There’s so much emotion, bottled up in there. Loathing and sadness and fear, of course, but under it… under it all is rage, Roman. I don’t think he even realizes it’s there, but he’s burning with it. I think that’s what he’s really afraid of, all of that anger, that he’s directing at himself, until it implodes.”

“He needs to acknowledge it’s there at all. That he has a right, to his anger. He’s been forced to hide everything for so long, Rems, it’s no wonder it’s all trying to escape, that he doesn’t know how to handle it, doesn’t even recognize it.”

“He’ll get there. It’s all still so new to him, Ro, he needs time. You’ve had a century to deal with your baggage. He’s had a few months, most of which he spent hiding. The best you can do is apologize, and make sure you’re here for him. Now, stop worrying so much, and try and relax. The kid is empathic as hell, your stress is making him stress.” With that, Remus vanished, leaving Roman alone with his thoughts, and Virgil, who did have a slight crease to his forehead, a slight downturn to his lips.

“he’s right, you know. You’ll get there. And I can’t wait to see it.”

…

“Remus! What-“ Logan cut himself off, eyes wide as he looked upon the scene. He’d been a bit worried about Remus’s silence, since the summoning, that always meant he was up to something, but this… this is not what he expected.

Thomas was on the floor of the basement, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he drew in chalk, having marked out the rough outline of a circle, a few sigils already in place, Remus hovering over his shoulder.

“Alright, now, copy this one.” Remus drew a shape in the air with practiced ease, the glowing thing pulsing for a moment, before slowly fading away. Thomas leaned back over, copying the pattern. “So this one is basically another protection one. Not that the ghosts here are intending to hurt you, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’ll keep any power from the circle from rebounding back on you, if it snaps.”

“It can do that?”

“Yuppers, and it isn’t always pretty. These things are powerful, kid, and so are the spirits you summon. If the circle is too weak, it won’t be able to contain them, too strong, and it’ll sap everything from them. You got lucky, the first time, in that the power rebounded onto Virgil, instead of you.”

“Remus! What are you doing?” He hissed finally, Remus turning his head one hundred eighty degrees to face him. grinning.

“Oh heya, teach! Just tutoring my newest student!”

“You shouldn’t be telling him any of this! This is dangerous! He could hurt himself, he could summon someone he doesn’t mean to, you should be discouraging this!” Remus snorted.

“You know I’m always one to entertain a bad idea.”

“What!? You think this is a bad idea?!” Thomas asked, looking between Remus and the space he seems to be staring at, where he’s sure another ghost is. If he squinted, he could almost see the outline of something, like a heat haze over asphalt, the wavy distortion of… something. He heard Remus continuing to bicker, but slowly, another voice started to trickle in, though it was distant, like an old radio broadcast, crackling and popping with static.

“-puts all of us at risk!” He hissed sharply, pressing a hand to his temple at the rebounding voice, echoing through his mind, and for a moment, the form was crystal clear, a sharp featured man, dressed a bit old fashioned, like something out of his grandparent’s photographs, eyes flashing and fists clenched in anger. For a moment, the being’s eyes glanced to his, widening minutely as he met them, looked right at him, then he blinked, and it was gone.

Logan reeled backwards, hand clutching at his chest, words knocked out of him. He’d seen the recognition, the startled, amazed look, on Thomas’s face, reflected on his own.

“he saw me.” He whispered, shocked into stillness, eyes darting to Remus. “how… it’s not finished, he didn’t… how did he see me?”

“He’s got raw talent, Logan, that’s what I was trying to tell you. Not just anyone can use a Ouija board and actually have it connect with the spirit realm, and that ramshackle shitty ass summoning circle? That shouldn’t have done a thing, it was so poorly constructed. At most, it should have attracted me to its energy, but instead it summoned Virgil, the one with the most power and the least desire to be seen. That’s power, innate power. I’m not surprised, that with more exposure to us, he’s starting to see you guys, hear you. I wouldn’t be surprised if those abilities kept growing. You’re in for the ride, kid, whether you like it or not.” Remus added, winking at Thomas, who was still slightly stricken, staring at where he’d seen the ghost.

“Which one was that? Or, were you? Not… not one of the ones, who used the board, and definitely not Virgil.” Remus looked at Logan, brow raised.

“Up to you, if you wanna share.” Logan inhaled deeply, just to center himself, before focusing on projecting outward just slightly. If Remus was right, that slight increase in power should be enough for Thomas to hear him, though not see him.

“I am Logan. It is… a surprise, to be meeting you in this manner. I can’t imagine having Remus as a teacher has been too enlightening.” He watched with interest as the man winced again, staring right at him, though there was no recognition this time. Fascinating, so Thomas could sense where his words were coming from, even without manifestation of a physical form.

“I mean, it was either learn or get tormented until I died, soooo…” He glared at Remus, who shrugged, kicking up his feet and floating reclined in the air.

“What? If he’s got the knack for it, it’s better he knows what he’s doing with it, otherwise he’s just a danger to everyone. If they kept fooling around how they were, they were gonna summon something a lot more powerful and a lot less friendly than they, or we, could handle.”

“I… suppose I cannot argue with that logic. But, from now on, I will be helping with and observing these lessons. I don’t trust you not to intentionally mislead him into something dangerous.” Logan countered, eyes narrowed.

“Ugh, fiiiine. I wasn’t gonna do anything too bad, anyway. Just a minor imp! Just for fun!”

“What!?” Thomas screeched again, Remus enjoying the slightly horrified look on his face far too much to care about the face palm occurring on Logan’s end.

“He is a poltergeist. He literally feeds on chaos. Any opportunity to cause it will not be passed up. And as much as he wants to protect us, he also wants to have some fun, often at the expense of the living members of the household. There’s a reason this property was so cheap. It goes on the market every few years.”

“The shortest stay was six months! A lot flies died for that victory. RIP squadron alpha. RIP.”

“I… ok. Not even gonna ask. Thanks, Logan. I’m… imma go process this. Somewhere. Anywhere.” Remus shrugged, following Thomas up the basement steps.

“Suit yourself! You know where to find me!” With a twirl, Remus vanished, leaving behind the faint scent of sulpher, just for fun. Logan rolled his eyes and wordlessly followed, his own mind still spinning.

Thomas could hear him. He could see him.

He wasn’t sure, exactly, what that made him feel.

Tue, 11 Aug 2020 20:24:18

…

“Maybe I should-“

“No. You shouldn’t.” Remus cuts off Roman’s sentence before he even finishes, watching him pace from his spot upside down on the couch, Janus watching with equal amusement, Logan with a hint of concern.

“But-“

“Roman. They will be fine. Tabitha loves him like her own, she would never in a million years allow anything to endanger Virgil, and by extension, Patton, since he is with him.”

“why did I not know that? That my nemesis has practically adopted Virgil?”

“Because he never told you. He never told any of us, it is personal information, Roman, why would you have known?” Logan asks, trying to decipher what Roman is upset about.

“Because we’re supposed to be his friends! His family! And there’s a whole other half of his life that I know absolutely nothing about and it’s fine, if he doesn’t want to tell me about it, but I never even asked! So what kind of friend, does that make me?” He asks, miserably flopping into a chair, rubbing his face.

“I wouldn’t. If you’d asked, I wouldn’t have told you much of anything, if that helps.” He jolts back upright, at Virgil’s so soft voice, not having heard him and Patton rise up. “It’s… still a little hard, to talk about.” His gaze flickers to Janus and Remus, something a bit sad, a bit pained, a bit angry, there, before flicking away to the floor.

“Virgil I-“

“It’s fine, Jan, really. Not like you meant to, and it… worked out, anyway.” He waves away Janus’s concern, shooting him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just glad you’re okay, too. You’d think the embodiment of self preservation would have a little more of it.”

“He’s got ya there, Jannie.”

“Oh, hush, no one asked you.” He scowls, playfully swatting Remus’s arm, who retaliates by draping himself across the entire couch, his head in Janus’s lap.

“Perish the thought of me, speaking out of turn. Surely now I deserve some punishment.” He waggles his eyebrows, licking his lips suggestively, grinning as Janus rolls his eyes and Virgil snorts.

“How are you doing, Virgil?” Logan asks, and he shrugs, flipping up his hood, missing the concerned exchange of glances that follows the action. Everyone knows that hood up means extra anxious.

“Better, I guess. Not… as scared, I suppose. But, um, it’s been kind of a long day, so I’m gonna go unwind for a bit. You know where to find me, if you need me.” With that and his little salute, Virgil is gone, sunk out to his room.

“So, how is he doing, Pat?” Roman asks, looking up at Patton, who’s fiddling with his cat paws.

“He’s… having a hard time.” He meets Janus’s eyes, who nods minutely, absently running his hand through Remus’s hair, much to his vibrating delight.

“I’ll speak to him, once he’s had some time. I’m… not surprised.”

…

He’s lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. One arm is flung behind him, over his head, the other holding a pillow across his chest. He’s not really sad, or upset, just… numb.

He’s dwelling, he knows he is, but he can’t stop, thinking about his conversation with Patton. He knows, Patton really believes it’ll work this time, everything’ll be fine. But all the same problems are still there, all the same dynamics, just waiting to implode. Everyone’s trying, everyone’s listening more, but still.

Still, he’s always been the one caught in the middle. And now… he has so much more to lose.

Janus and Remus were his first family, they’re the ones that looked after him, that spent time easing his fears, that he tussled with, fought with, explored with, Janus is the one he turned to after nightmares or during panic attacks, Remus was the one who broke through his bad days and forced him to do something, anything, even if it was fighting him tooth and claw for some time alone. And as angry as he was, at them, as much as they hurt him, he still… missed them.

Things weren’t better, or smoother, at first, with the light sides, either, but Patton was always accepting, always trying to understand, and help, and support him. Logan always talks him down from his fears, walks him through his cognitive distortions, counts out his breathing. Roman and him bicker and fight, but it’s not mean spirited, anymore, it’s more out of habit, for fun, and they’re both careful not to cross any lines, Roman whisking him away to the imagination to relax, when he can tell he’s super stressed, or just sitting quietly with him, humming.

He rolls over onto his side, hugging the pillow with all his might, face pressed into it. He doesn’t want to lose Janus and Remus again. He doesn’t want to leave Patton, Logan and Roman. He can’t choose, he can’t, it rips him in half, just thinking about it, it tears him apart, and he can’t do it again, he’ll just linger in no man’s land in the mind, wishing for both and belonging to neither, until Thomas’s brain makes the choice for him, but it won’t matter because he’ll be changed, part of him missing, either way.

He doesn’t move at the soft knock on his door, just curls tighter into his pillow, letting it absorb the silent tears tracking down his face, as he hears the door crack open.

“Vee? May I come in?” Janus, and he doesn’t reply, knowing that will be all the permission the scaled side needs, proven correct at the sound of soft footsteps across the floor, a soft breath, upon seeing him, the soft resettling of the mattress, as he sits down on the edge. Janus doesn’t say anything more, either, just rests a hand on his leg, to remind him he’s there, and waits.

“I wish I still hated you. I wish I was still so hurt by what you did, that I could have that rage back, that determination to hurt you just as badly as you’d hurt me, the pure anger shoving me onwards, until I didn’t remember we’d ever had anything else. It would be so much easier, if I could just still hate you, instead of forgive you, because it still hurts, so much of it still hurts, but I get it. I just… I don’t…”

“Shh, slow down, shadowling. What’s this all about?” He uncurls a bit at that, enough his eyes are peeking out from the pillow, and Janus can see the tear streaks.

“it’s all going to fall apart. I-it’s going to fall apart and I don’t think I can do it again, Jan, no matter which side I end up on. I can’t get shoved back into the dark, I can’t, not after being here for so long, I won’t be able to handle it, it’ll tear me apart, but if I stay on this side, I’ll be losing you and Ree all over again, and either way I lose, and I’m so sick of losing. I wish it would just happen already, so it could be over, and at least then I’d know how my heart would shatter, instead of anticipating it at every second. At least then I’d be broken for… for a reason, instead of because of some stupid thoughts about stuff that hasn’t even happened yet!”

“It won’t-“

“Don’t. Don’t lie to me, Jan.”

“Alright. Tell me, why are you so sure, that this is inevitable?” Janus asks softly, rubbing circles against his leg.

“because it always does.” He sighs, shifting to lay down, spooning Virgil from behind. “the peace never lasts. It’s only a matter of time, and it wasn’t on purpose, the first time, so why would it be any different now? Every argument or disagreement or discussion, it’s going to happen and I’m so sick of waiting for it to happen.”

“It won’t. Look at me, Vee, it won’t. I’m not lying. I will not let it happen again, Thomas won’t let it happen again, we’ve all grown and changed and we all know better, now. We know that only hurt everything, it didn’t fix anything, it just made it all worse. We are never going back to that. I swear it. I know it’s not that easy, to make yourself believe it, but it’s true. Just let yourself remember that, ok? No matter what, it’s true.” He’s only half surprised when Virgil rolls over, curling into his chest, clinging to his shirt and crying. He brings his arms around him, holding him close, running a hand up and down his back. “it’s alright, shadowling. It’s alright.” He murmurs, and for once, Virgil almost finds it in himself to believe it.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #sympathetic virgil #sympathetic janus #sympathetic remus #sympathetic logan #sympathetic roman #sympathetic patton #anxiety #hurtcomfort

Sun, 09 Aug 2020 17:38:21

~~Next~~

…

“Virgil!”

“Kiddo, come out, please!”

“Doom and Gloom, we’re worried about you, please!” Roman looks up, surveying the trees scowling. “This is pointless. He could be anywhere, you heard Janus, he’s an expert at hiding.”

“We can’t just leave him! If we don’t find him, he’s just going to become more and more convinced we don’t want him at all, I won’t leave him out here, where anything could get him!” Patton protests, voice shaking, and Roman stops, turning to face him.

“Padre. I know, trust me, I know, it’s taken us a long time to get there, but I care for him too, and I hate… this, as much as you do, but,” He takes breath, steadying his voice, “Virgil has experience, surviving out here, much more than you do, than I do, on Remus’s side. He is fight or flight. Anything out here, he can either out run or out do. It’s the creatures that should be avoiding him.”

“How… how do you know that?” Roman smiles ruefully, rubbing the back of his head.

“I’ve gotten into a couple… close calls. I don’t know how he knows, but he always does, when it’s real, not just part of the story, not just for the dramatics. Oh, you should see him fight, Patton, it’s… well. It’s something else.” Terrifying, was the word he was going to use, terrifying and incredible, the most mesmerizing thing he’s ever seen, movements almost too fast to follow, every punch and kick followed by cracking bone, his eyes glowing violet, imprinting in the air, confusing the enemy as to which is real, until there’s a thousand eyes staring at them, and they tear themselves apart. It’s a terrible beauty, a terrifying grace, an electric elegance, it’s the only time Roman ever sees Virgil truly, one hundred percent sure of himself, confident and tall and unafraid, and it makes him wonder, each time, just how much of himself Virgil is holding back.

Well, they have a partial answer now, don’t they?

“Roman-“ Patton gasps, cutting himself off as he pushes past Roman, sprinting over, grabbing a piece of cloth off the ground. A patch, from his hoodie. And there, beyond the tree line…

The ground is scuffed, grass torn up, another fabric patch pressed into the dirt. Examining closer, Roman inhales sharply, seeing a few drops of blood. Boot imprints and a long drag mark, where the earth had been flattened, a tail.

He kneels, pressing a hand to the ground, feeling the slight tingle of magical residue, the all too familiar pop and sting.

“Dragon witch.” He growls, shoving to his feet, stalking away before spinning back around, fire in his eyes. “She took him.”

“What… what does that mean?” Patton asks, voice shaking once more, in fear.

“That we have to get him back. I should be able to work a trace, to find where she took him. Pat… you should go home. This is dangerous, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“no. No, Virgil’s already hurt, and I’m not going home without him. This…this is my fault, and I’m going to fix it.” He can see the determination in Patton’s eyes, the fierceness there, and knows he won’t win this battle.

“alright. Alright, padre. Come here. Let’s work some magic.”

…

“EN GUARDE FOUL FIEND-“

“shuthefuckupRoman!” Is not what he expected to be whisper screeched at him by Remus, who is seated at a table, feet resting atop it, the dragon witch sitting across from him, both of them now glaring at him.

“What- Remus- where-”

“Hush for once in your life. He is fine, and finally resting, no thanks to you, no doubt.” Roman bristles at that, eyes narrowing.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means unlike you and your precious standards of purity, I’ve never hurt him, or made him fear himself. Hate himself.” Her eyes flash, a puff of smoke escaping the corners of her mouth, and he feels suddenly small.

“ok, everyone, let’s just calm down for a second.” Patton steps out from behind him, a sheepish smile on his face as he properly enters the home. “um. Hi! I’m Patton. Nice to meet you.” He ignores Roman hissing his name, extending his hand. The witch glances at Remus, who shrugs, before accepting.

“Tabitha. It is… overdue, I suppose. Take a seat.” She offers, Patton easily slipping into a chair, Roman making a sputtering noise, before sulkily stomping into a chair, eyes flicking from person to person.

“And what are you doing here!?” he finally explodes, glaring at Remus, who raises a brow.

“This is where Virgie went. Why wouldn’t I be here?”

“Why is Virgil here?” Patton interrupts before Roman can go off, his question full of genuine curiosity instead of accusation, catching Tabitha off guard.

“And how do we know you haven’t done anything to him?”

“oh come off that high horse, RoRo.” Everyone freezes at a small sound from the back of the room, Patton and Roman catching sight of Virgil for the first time, covered in blankets and sleeping soundly, a small smile on his face, a tiny dragon curled around his head.

“does that assuage your doubts, your highness?” Her voice isn’t heated, now, just a tad bitter, a faraway look on her face, a gentle smile lighting up her eyes as she looks at Virgil, an expression so far from her normal ferocity and disdain that he can barely reconcile it.

“He always used to come here. When he was still with us. Practically lived here. Then, well, everything happened and we fell out of touch, but I knew when he panicked, this is where he’d go.”

“I found him bleeding and broken on the ground. He was never like this, before he moved, he used to be so… himself. Now he is constantly afraid, to let any of himself show.”

“I know. And that’s… a lot of that is my fault, even though I didn’t mean to make him feel that way, I did. But I’m not scared of him. He’s… he’s one of my kiddos! Creepy crawly death dealer and all.” Tabitha looks at him hard, for a moment, before letting out a soft sigh.

“Well, that’s a start, I suppose. You just have to convince him, of it, which will not be an easy task.”

“Come on, Ro, time for us to get going.” Roman’s brows skyrocket as he looks incredulously at Remus, then at Patton.

“I am not leaving Patton here, alone, with her!”

“Roman. If I intended harm I would already have acted. Contrary to your belief, I am not a villain. I am just as much an actor as you.” Roman opened his mouth to say something, Patton’s hand on his shoulder stopping him.

“I don’t wanna overwhelm him, when he wakes up, but I need to be here. I’ll be fine, Ro. Go update Janus and Logan, I’m sure they’re worried, too.” He hesitates, but nods reluctantly, glancing back at Virg. He looks so… peaceful, a rare thing, for the anxious side, even in sleep, and he feels another twinge of guilt.

“Take care of them.” His voice is hoarse, as he meets her eyes, and she nods.

“On my life, nothing will harm them.” Then he takes Remus’s hand, and they sink out.

….

Noises. Muffled by the blankets around him, but they manage to make it through his sleepy mind. The sound of pans clanking against each other, of measuring cups tapping against bowls. A soft conversation, a warm voice followed by a low giggle.

He rolls over, a small smile on his lips as he stretches, blinking open his eyes, trying to decipher what he is looking at.

Patton, nose dusted with flour, stirring a bowl held in his arms, giggling up at Tabitha, who looks slightly exasperated, flour covering her apron. He can smell yeast, something baking, something sweet.

“whoops.” Tabitha huffs a laugh, attempting futily to brush off the flour.

“I told you to stir slowly, sunshine.” She gently takes the bowl from Patton, slowly folding in the flour.

Neither have noticed him, yet, as he swings his legs over the edge of the cot, sitting up and stretching once more, noticing with relief that his spider traits have shifted away. Usually they’re controllable, but Janus’s bite made it impossible to hide the truth, trapping him in the semi form, until it wore off.

Oh. Everything came crashing back in on him, suddenly, the warm content of seconds ago fleeing into a cold fear. His breath hitches as he pulls his knees up, the movement getting their attention.

“Virgil. Hey kiddo. How you feeling?” Patton asks softly, moving just a few steps closer, crouching down to be at his level. Virgil hugs his knees, looking away, taking in a shaking breath. Patton can see the little button eyes under his normal ones, shiny and dark, before they blink shut, hidden.

“sorry. I’m… I… sorry.”

“No, baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He just shakes his head, burying it against his knees. Patton sounds so soft, and he can’t handle that, he doesn’t want his pity, he doesn’t want to exploit that, doesn’t want Patton to care just because he has to. “virg, honey, look at me.” He shakes his head again, voice trapped in his throat. He jumps at a hand on his shoulder, though he leans into it, when it goes to pull away, and now he’s pressed against Patton’s side, breathing in his soothing scent of laundry and warm bread.

“I love you, Virg. I’m so, so, sorry, that I made you feel like you couldn’t be yourself. You’re wonderful and amazing and perfect, and I couldn’t be prouder of you, kiddo, I really couldn’t.”

“I’m the bad one. L-like always. N-n-no matter how hard I try, I’m always the wrong one, or the bad one, or the scary one, and I… I don’t want to be, I don’t… I can’t even help it this time, it’s just… just what I am.”

“Hey. That’s not true. You aren’t bad, kiddo, you aren’t scary, at least, not when you don’t want to be.” That gets a small sniffle laugh, and he continues on, “youe animal traits don’t make you bad. Janus has scales and fangs, and we don’t treat him as evil or scary, anymore, right?” He nods, shakily inhaling.

“that’s different.” He mumbles. “he isn’t-“

“A spider?” Patton finishes, and Virgil hums in agreement. Patton shifts away, making Virgil wince, curl in on himself a little tighter. “Kiddo, look at me.” Virgil inhales shakily, looking up at Patton, eyes red rimmed and watery. “can I see? I didn’t really, before, you darted away so fast.”

“o-ok.” He stutters, swiping a sleeve across his face, before taking a deep breath, letting his legs unfurl from his back, settle on the ground around him, his teeth lengthen into fangs, his extra eyes open, near glowing violet, an aura of darkness surrounding him, hazing his form as he stands, much taller than usual, with the extra height afforded him by his legs, though he still has his usual slightly thin and willowy look.

“Can I..?” Patton asks, gesturing towards one of his legs, and Virgil looks startled, that he hasn’t screamed or fainted or run away by now, not that he can blame him.

“yeah, I guess.” He shivers slightly at the hand against his leg, an unfamiliar sensation, though not unpleasant. He’s staring a bit surprised at Patton, who’s tentatively smiling, meeting his eyes with that same softness still in them.

“They’re soft! It’s like… like petting a bumblebee!” He blushes slightly, ducking his head. “your eyes are pretty, too. Like a cat’s when they’re happy, all dilated and huge.”

“Pat, stop.” He groans, face nearly beat red, he’s flushing so furiously.

“Nope. Because you are perfect, kiddo. I love you. And nothing changes that, ok?” Patton asks, as he shifts away his spider traits, except for his extra eyes, which stay in place. “Are those there all the time?” Patton asks, Virgil biting his lip as he nods.

“yeah. They’re like Jan’s scales. Usually I cover them up with the eyeshadow. It’s dark enough you can’t see them, even open, unless you know what to look for.” He yelps, stumbles, as Patton barrels into him, wrapping him in a giant bear hug, squeezing him so hard he can barely breathe, though it feels oddly nice.

“you don’t have to hide them. You don’t have to hide, not ever. I promise.” He inhales sharply, then he’s crying, tears streaming down his face, and he can’t stop, the relief is so sweet, the weight lifting off his shoulders and allowing him to breathe easy for the first time, truly, since he’d moved to the light side. The stress of keeping everything hidden away, out of sight, watching what he says, does. It’s all melting away and leaving a lightness in its wake he doesn’t know what to do with, besides cry.

“You’re r-really n-not scared?” He mumbles.

“Of course not, Virg. It’s just… you, after all! Now, maybe if I was coming down the stairs at 3am and saw you glowing from the kitchen, that would be a different story.” Virgil laughs wetly again, finally stepping back as the timer dings, Patton’s face lighting up. “Oh, we made muffins! Tabby showed me her recipe, they’re sugared blackberry.” He spares a glance at Tabitha, who’s own face a slight scarlet, grinning.

“Tabby, huh? Did she tell you those are my favorite? Whenever I was having a real bad day, we’d make those together.”

“Yes, and the little heathen that you were, always trying to shove three into your face at a time, like some kind of rabid squirrel.” Patton giggles, and he shrugs.

“Lived with Remus. You gotta expect me to pick up some habits from him.” He answers, slipping into a chair, Tabitha ruffling his hair, before pulling the pan out of the oven, setting it on the windowsill. “And Jan was just trying to keep us from killing each other.”

“You fought a lot?” Virgil snorts, shaking his head.

“Nah. Usually it was all in good fun, though our version of fun involved a lot more biting, pincers, stabbing, and far too many limbs, than you guys’ probably does, but there were times where I was having a bad day, and Remus always enjoys poking the bear, to see what happens when it does get angry. Part of the reason I started hiding out here, instead of the dark side. Remus camouflages, part of being an octopus. He could literally be anywhere at any moment waiting to pop out and scare me, or whatever, and some days that just… it was too much.” Patton is silent, mulling over what Virgil had said, biting his lip.

“I didn’t know that. You never… really talked about it, being over there. I always thought it was because you hadn’t been happy, but… you were, weren’t you?” He sighs, shoving his hand through his hair.

“It’s… complicated. I was. For a long time, I was, and I loved them, and I know they loved me back, took care of me, but things… changed. Thomas grew. And so did we. And Janus started becoming bitter, about being hidden away in the dark, started wanting more. And Roman stopped playing with Remus, which made him hurt and angry, which made him louder and more violent. And everything seemed… scarier, to me. Everything was scarier. There was all this tension and Janus became colder, absorbed in all the ways he’d get revenge, and Remus was wilder, not in the fun, tussling way we’d had with each other, but actually violently wilder, and I didn’t trust him not to hurt me on purpose, anymore. And I started drawing away from them both, isolating myself, my own anxiety not helping anything, telling me they hated me anyway, so what am I even doing, here?

Then… then the door showed up, and suddenly I was on the stairs in the living room, with all of you, and it wasn’t… great, my reception, but it wasn’t nearly as scary, as what life had become, so I thought, maybe I can do this. Dee didn’t really give me a choice. He was furious, he was so angry, that after everything, I had shown myself. Really, he was jealous it was me, the door had appeared to, that it was me who hadn’t done anything to deserve it, hadn’t worked for it, hadn’t aimed for it, that got to meet Thomas, after all his years of trying to figure out how to do just that and failing. I left.

But it wasn’t much of a choice. Janus made it clear I was no longer welcome, and there would be consequences, if I showed back up. Thinking about the good times, the happy parts, just made it hurt, so I shoved those away, and let myself only focus on the bad, only remember the fear and the pain and the hurt, because otherwise… otherwise I think it would have killed me, leaving like that. They were my family.

And they didn’t want me, and you all didn’t want me, and I just… I just decided, why am I even trying? Why do any of this, why… if no one wants me, fine, I’ll give everyone what they want, because it’s not like I wanted myself around, either. Then you came, anyway. And I said screw it, fuck them, I don’t care about them anymore, I have something better now, people who actually care, and want me, and it made me so angry, even more angry, at Janus and Remus, because I could barely remember ever feeling like that, with them. I hadn’t in so long, it was easier to pretend I never had at all. And now… now I guess we’re back where we started, all together in a group and I just…

I keep waiting, for it to all fall apart, again. For it all to shatter, and it scares me, Pat, it scares me so badly because I can’t make that choice again, I don’t… I don’t know who I’ll choose.”

“You won’t. You will never have to go through something like that again, Virg, I promise. No matter what happens, we are not splitting up again, and I was so wrong, to let it happen in the first place. It just hurt all of us. No one is being sent away, never, ever, ever.” He states it firmly enough, conviction shining in his eyes, that Virgil can almost believe him.

“yeah. Ok, pat.” He looks away, huffing out a breath, blowing at his bangs. “We should probably head back, shouldn’t we?” He’s not exactly looking forwards to it, but he knows the others are bound to be worried.

“probably. But there’s no harm in staying a little longer, if you need.” He catches Patton’s small smile, Tabitha beaming softly at the both of them, pride radiating off of her, and he looks down at the table, a warmth settling into his chest.

“ok. Toss me those muffins, ‘Tabby’, I’ve got some stress eating to accomplish.”

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #dragon witch #sympathetic virgil #sympathetic remus #sympathetic janus #sympathetic logan #sympathetic roman #sympathetic patton #virgil angst #spider virgil #hurtcomfort #protective roman

Sun, 09 Aug 2020 12:30:31

~~Next~~

…

He runs.

He runs past Patton, he shoves open his door, locks it behind him, then lunges through the portal hidden under his bed that Remus had installed years ago, when he’d first moved to the light side, a shortcut to his imagination, to the dark side. He pulls the trapdoor shut behind him, landing on the forest floor with barely a sound.

Colors are brighter, stranger, he’s pretty sure in this form he can actually see colors others can’t, see at a spectrum impossible for humans, since he isn’t, not really. That thought chokes a sob out of him, though it comes out as more of a growling hiss, and he throws himself back into movement, speeding across the ground, jumping up, into the trees, when they become too dense, seeing the cliff approaching, but not slowing, he braces himself, springs, his stomach flip flopping as he drops-

Then he shoots his web and latches onto the trees on the other side, swinging across the canyon. If he were in a better mood, he’d be laughing right now, at the feel of the wind, at moving so fast, at letting himself go, more than he has in years, letting himself go feral, but he isn’t, his heart is pounding and his breath is speeding and he’s moving, faster and faster, and faster-

Then, suddenly, there’s no more trees.

He doesn’t have time to stop his momentum. He manages to web the ground, before he crashes onto it, letting his shoulder impact first, easily slipping into a barrel roll, before losing control and tumbling across the earth, head spinning as he finally comes to a stop, hissing through clenched teeth as he sits up, taking in the damage.

His shoulder is bruised to hell, and scraped raw and bloody, and so are his legs, his hands, though his appendages are intact. There’s a gash on his forehead, and he curses, pulling his sleeve over his hand, pressing it against the wound to try and staunch the bleeding, letting out another hissing breath at the ache in his chest, a bruised or cracked rib.

He’s crying. He doesn’t know when it started, he feels too numb to cry, but he is, a steady, endless flow of tears that wash down his face, and he squeezes his eyes closed, doubling over, legs closing in around him, hiding him from view.

“Hello, little one.” He nearly jumps, at the sudden low and sonorous voice, but he doesn’t care, he simply curls tighter, trying to suppress the pathetic whimper trying to escape his lips. “You aren’t one of the usual resident monstrosities of Remus’s design. Are you new?” He flinches hard, this time, realizing what he’s being mistaken for, because he must truly look horrendous, and Patton, god, Patton, not to mention Roman, once he hears, and Logan will just want to study him, dissect him, like some specimen, he doesn’t want to be the monster, he isn’t, he isn’t, he isn’theisn’theisn’t- “Let me take a look at you, darling. I can help make it better.” He pulls his legs in tighter, shaking, forcing words to his lips.

“N-no. G-g-go away.” He hisses, and he hears a sharp inhale.

“Anxiety. You… aren’t supposed to be here.” He laughs, at that, a cold, hard, bitter laugh.

“look at me. Where else could I go?” He bares his fangs, eyes flashing and shadows growing as he feels hands pushing aside his legs, gently tipping his chin up, meeting the orange cat’s eyes of the dragon witch.

“I remember a time when you wore this form more often than not. You and Remus were feral little things, more beast than man, some days, all shadowy blobs of too many teeth and limbs and claws, with your venomous bites and poison laced scratches, I remember when you’d spend hours, weaving the most wonderous tapestries, that sparkled so brilliantly, in the morning dew. Or ones near invisible, that would trip up Remus, as he tried to invade your lair. Once you wouldn’t have consolidated monstrous, with evil, they are different. Plenty of monstrous things are still beautiful, after all. Plenty of monstrous things are still smart, and kind, and sweet, little one. I would have hoped that to be a lesson you remembered, still.” Her words are soft and gentle as she caresses his cheek, a tender smile on her lips. “I haven’t forgotten, my tiny terror.” He folds, falling into her open arms and sobbing, letting it all go, as her near black wings enfold them both, her tail gently coiling around his feet. She doesn’t say anything, simply holds him, rocks him as he cries, promising safety with her steady presence, her slightly hotter than normal warmth. “I gather from your state you don’t want to go back to the world?” He shakes his head frantically, not moving from his place in her arms. “alright, darling. Hold on tight, for a moment.” He feels a slight vertigo, the world running like a watercolor painting, before resettling to a homey looking cottage, a fire lit and providing gentle warmth, the floors covered in soft rugs, the smell of cinnamon and something else, something warm and fizzing and popping in the air. Magic.

“If you want tea, you’ll have to let go.” He does with a slightly rueful smile, one she adores, and she brushes back his hair, before moving to put the kettle on, getting her favorite teacup from the cupboard, along with a black and white chipped jack Skellington mug.

“you still have that?” He says, voice coming out hoarse, as he pulls himself into one of the surprisingly comfy wooden chairs surrounding the small table in the kitchen, watching as she bustles about.

“Of course. I hoped I’d have occasion to use it again. Though I admit I hoped it would be under better circumstances.” He winces, looking away.

“sorry. For not visiting. I… I should have. Me and Ree hadn’t been on the best terms, for… well, for a while. I didn’t want to chance being caught here by myself.”

“Yes. I heard all about it, believe me. He fluctuated between grief, despair, and unmitigated rage, before settling on a scarily distant disdain. Any mention of you and he just… shut down.”

“sorry.” He whispers again, to her soft huff.

“Stop apologizing, darling. I’m not placing blame or accusing. I know you had your reasons. Now, let me have a look at you, we can’t have those getting infected, and you know they will.” He groans, wincing as he pulls his sleeve away from his forehead.

“But it stings!” He whines, making her laugh, as she gathers the warm water and soft hand towel.

“You’ve had worse, Anxiety. And unless you want me to summon Remus to instant heal you, we’ll have to do it the old fashioned way.” Her voice is slightly stern now, the same tone Patton always takes, when scolding them or breaking up a fight, and he smiles slightly, glancing up at her.

“alright. It’s, um, Virgil, now, by the way.” She smiles, coming around the table and gently dabbing away the dried blood from the gash, wincing in sympathy as he grits his teeth, before patting it dry and securing gauze. “Ah. It suits you, I think.“ He pulls up his pants to reveal his skinned knees, his shins peppered with scrapes, though nothing there is hurt too badly, though it still stings like a son of a gun. They’re just finishing looking at his shoulder, her turning away to get an icepack for it, when he hears the tell tale swing of the doggy door, small scratching against the mat in the entryway.

“Oh, god-“ He manages to just barely brace himself, as a ball of icy silvery blue barrels into his chest, knocking his chair over backwards, sending his arms pinwheeling before he collides with the floor, his fall slowed slightly by a quick spell, that lowers him gently the last inch to avoid concussing him. He doesn’t have time to thank her, however, as his face is getting destroyed by licks, and he can’t get a word out edgewise, between his pleas to stop, and his gasping laughter.

“Nilas, stop, down girl, NiNi!” He laughs, finally managing to get the large cat sized dragon under control, though her tail still whipped wildly, and when he rolled out of the chair to sit up on the floor, she instantly climbed his shirt, draping herself around his shoulders, tail hanging off one, curling around his upper bicep to keep herself steady, her head resting on her paws on his other. He laughs again at her low, contented chuffing, the equivalent of a dragon purr, as he scratches her head. “Happy to see me, huh?” She buts her head against his cheek in response, before giving it one more lick, before laying back down on her paws, though her head stays tucked up against his face.

“Yeah. I missed you too, Nilas.” He mumbles, pain forgotten in the face of a happy dragon snuggling against him, a soothing, perfect weight that grounds him, helps him breathe a little easier against the stress slowly fading away. He rights the chair and slips back into it, taking the mug that she sets in front of him.

“Roman still giving you trouble?” He asks, after a few moments in comfortable silence, taking a sip of the tea, which is deep and herbal, just a hint of sweetness from the honey. She scowls, and he can hear her tail sweeping across the floor.

“Don’t get me started. I enjoy playing his games, but that boy has not given me a moments peace. Do you know how hard it is, to swap into evil enchantress mode, when your nemesis has showed up in the middle of you baking? I had a pie in the oven and I couldn’t stop worrying it was going to burn.”

“did it?” he asks, grinning.

“No. I told him he’d better stop wasting his time with me, and worry about my agents infiltrating the castle, and he took off. There weren’t any, of course, from what I understand he had a lovely game of whodunnit about the royal crown, though it turned out he’d simply misplaced it.” Virgil laughed, imagining Roman frantically running around, accusing random townspeople, making one of those red string conspiracy cork boards, only to find it under his bed.

“Oh, that’s amazing.” He finally wheezes through his giggling, taking another long sip of his tea, before yawning hugely.

“alright, enough catching up. To bed with you.”

“but-”

“uh, uh, uh, you know the drill. You’ll be falling out of the chair soon, anyway.” She teases gently, helping support him as he stands, a bit wobbly on his feet, another yawn impossible to stifle sneaking through.

“Curse my traitorous body.” He mutters, making her laugh, as he lays down on the cot in the dark corner of the living room, pulling all the fluffy blankets up so high they nearly cover his head, Nilas circling a few times, before curling up snuggled against his chest, kneading her paws contentedly.

“sweet dreams, tiny terror.” She murmurs, kissing his forehead fondly, as his eyes flutter shut. “sleep well. You could use it.”

“mhm. Thanks, Tabitha. Love you.” He mumbles, drifting off, a small smile on his lips as he rests his head against Nilas.

She smiles, stroking his hair a few more times before pulling away, a low sigh slipping from her lips.

Well. No doubt Remus would appear soon, and he could explain what had sent Virgil into such a tizzy, though no doubt it was something to do with the others. He wouldn’t have been so scared of himself, otherwise. He was never scared of himself, until he started hanging around them. He used to revel in causing mayhem, tearing through the imagination, scrapping with Remus, winning, more often than not, on his own merit. He was such a small little shadow, but so fierce, with those eyes of his, peeking guardedly through his mop of hair, an almost perpetual frown on his face, always braced for the worst.

But he was kind, too. The first day she’d come across him alone, he’d glared at her, hissed, baring his fangs and scuttling backwards, ready to bite.

She’d knelt down, almost as surprised to see him as he clearly was to see her.

“hello, little one. What are you doing, out here alone?” He hadn’t answered, merely continued to glare, tensed to spring or run. She’d hummed, looking around, the field was full of knee high grass, his head barely poking above the stalks, wildflowers filling the space, butterflies (both literal and figurative) drifting through the air. A distant shout rang through the imagination, an echo of whatever turmoil was occurring up in the rest of the mind, and he flinched, curling in on himself, breath catching.

“ah. Trying to find some quiet, until the storm blows over.” The little shadow nodded, watching a bee struggle to stay atop a flower blowing in the breeze, before reaching out and holding it steady, a small smile crossing his face as he leaned in, watching the bee burry its head in the pollen. “Well, don’t mind me, then. Is it alright, if I stay here to read? I won’t bother you.” A moment passed, but he nodded solemnly, watching the bee flit away, before fixing his gaze on her, which she studiously ignored, studying her book while watching out of the corner of her eye.

Another echoing shout, almost like a thunder crash, and he let out a little shriek. Before she could ask if he was okay, the little shadow had scuttled closer, throwing himself onto her lap and curled in a shivering ball, hiding himself under her cloak.

“Oh, darling, it’s alright. They won’t hurt you here, I promise.” He hadn’t uncurled, and she’d hesitantly wrapped an arm around him, brushing through his hair with her other hand, humming softly, until she felt him slowly start to uncurl, realizing finally he’d fallen asleep, tiny hands clutching at her shirt, impossible to pry off even if she’d wanted to.

When Creativity and Deceit panicked later, realizing Anxiety had been missing all day, they were surprised to find him happily coloring on the floor of the witch’s cottage, dark aura dispersed enough they could actually see his body, a dragon curled around him protectively.

The next day he’d shown back up on her doorstep, a bit shyer, but no less brave, holding out a flower crown, painstakingly woven with colorful flowers, and it may have been the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. From then on, Anxiety, or Virgil, now, was as good as hers, under her protection, always welcome, always at home in her home. Her baby, her shadow, her tiny terror.

Fri, 07 Aug 2020 18:03:59

…

He aches. Every bone and muscle and sinew seems to throb with pain, and he hisses, hearing the soft papery sound of his scales brushing against each other, coiling and shifting groggily as he forces his eyes open.

“Jan? You with us?” He blinks, at the blurry form of Remus, hovering over him, managing a nod, though his eyes are already drifting shut. It must be bad, if he’s shifted himself, though he doesn’t remember anything happening.

“Oh, snakey, you just hang in there, ok? We’re taking care of you.” He feels a hand brush through his hair, leaning into it as he drifts off again.

…

The fire. The fire is back.

It’s scorching heat, up his tail, writhing around his arms, smoke wrapping around his throat, forcing itself into his lungs, and he gasps for air, trying to escape, trying to flee, but his wrists are bound, he’s tied on a stake while the pyre rages around him, the flames licking at his scales, and he bares his teeth, lunging away, lunging towards one of the figures dancing in the flames, stealing his air, and he hears a yelp, as his fangs sink into something, before being shoved off, shoved away, growling as his arms are pinned, a weight on his tail, and he can’t get it off, he thrashes, but he can’t get it off, can’t get free, no matter how hard he hisses and spits and writhes.

“JANUS!” The voice breaks through, just barely, just enough to make him hesitate, to stop, surprise washing over him, though his fangs are still bared, still ready to bite. “Janus. Breathe. It’s ok, it’s just me, just Virgil, you’re ok, please, just breathe.” He inhales sharply, deeply, gasping, he hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. Finally his vision clears, after several long moments, locking on Virgil’s purple eyes, pale face, messier than usual makeup. He’s panting slightly, sitting atop him, atop his tail, pinning his wrists to the ground, concern and fear playing across his features.

“V-Vee?” Virgil’s face softens, and he nods, eyes searching his face.

“It’s me, Jan. It’s ok. You had a nightmare and started panicking, lashing out. I’m gonna let you up now, ok? Unless you wanna have a go at Remus, too, he deserves it, probably.” He huffs at that, as Virgil releases him, helps him to sit.

“Oooh, could you crush me? Maybe I should make a giant snake to constrict me! Do you think my ribs would crack, and explode through my chest, and my beating heart would be visible before I’m devoured whole by its giant maw?”

“wonderful, Remus, thank you for that lovely vision.” He replies, earning a laugh from Remus, a lopsided grin from Virgil.

Then Virgil hisses in a sharp breath, squeezing his eyes shut, hand fisting into the fabric of his hoodie.

“Vee?” Remus asks, worry tinging his tone, and Janus’s eyes widen, noticing the pinprick beads of red against Virgil’s neck for the first time, the trickle of blood running down in rivulets, realizing what must have happened.

“I bit you.” He whispers, as Virgil shakes, doubling over. “I bit you!”

“Fine… I’ll be fine…” He gasps out, voice shaking, echoing with tempest tongue as his shadows darken, lengthen.

“Kiddos? You ok? I heard a ruckus?” Patton asks, popping into the room, instantly hurrying to Virgil’s side.

“Virg?” His voice is soft, but Virgil flinches, eyes darting up to look at him, and he yelps, stumbling backwards. The whites of Virgil’s eyes have turned black, his usually dark eyes a near glowing neon violet. Underneath are six more eyes in total, dark, shiny things. As he watches, his canines lengthen into fangs.

“nononono…” Virgil mumbles, and he almost reaches out again, then Virgil’s head flies back in a silent scream, eyes blazing with light, dark fire exploding out of him, writhing around him, and eight, long, spindly apendages sprout from his back, then the darkness releases Virgil, and he sprawls across the ground, trembling, from pain, exhaustion, or fear, Patton can’t tell, maybe a bit of all of them.

“Virgil-“ Before he can get more out of his mouth, Virgil lurches to his feet, to his eight black legs, eyes wide and shaking, and he bolts, flashing past Patton so fast he’s barely even a blur, vanishing through the door to his room, leaving the rest of them in a stunned silence.

“Fuck a duck.” Remus mutters, eyes wide, staring after him for a second, before bolting to his feet and charging up the stairs, slamming the door to his own room, surprising and confusing Patton further, before his attention turns to Janus, who’s own face is pale, brows drawn.

“So. Um. What… just… happened?” He squeaks out, trying to keep from straight up panicking. Janus lets out a long sigh, head thumping back against the couch cushions.

“I had a nightmare. I lashed out. And I… bit him.”

“Oh. So… is that why he turned into… that?” Janus groans, tail twisting with uncertainty.

“Yes. And no. My bite reveals things. The absolute truth of what… who… someone is. And the more you fight the venom, the more it hurts, until it forces you to change into your truest reflection, reveals you fully. Which is exactly what it did, to Virgil. It revealed the truth he’s been so carefully hiding.” Patton tilted his head, thinking over the implications, before his mouth formed a silent ‘o’, realization washing over him.

“his animal. He’s… a spider?” Janus nods, closing his eyes in confirmation. “oh. Oh no. Oh, no wonder he was so scared! Oh, he probably thinks I’ll be scared of him, doesn’t he? Knowing him, he probably thinks I’ll hate him and never want to see him again! Oh, this is not good!”

“He’ll be long gone in the imagination by now, Remus’s side. He is exceptionally excellent at hiding. Remember to look up.” He mumbles, exhaustion washing over him.

“Lo, Ro!” Patton calls, the two of them rising up moments later. “Logan, I need you to stay with him, ok? His fever just broke, so Janus, try and stay awake for a bit, just to eat something, ok?” He nods, though the task seems impossible. “Roman, I need you with me. We’re going to the imagination.”

“Padre, I love taking you on quests, but is now really-“

“Remus’s side. We need to find Virgil, I’ll explain more as we move, let’s go!” Without further explanation, Patton pulled Roman up the stairs, leaving Logan and Janus alone.

“Well. That was… sudden. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.” Logan murmurs, turning his full attention back to Janus, who frowns slightly, eyes drifting back open, as he looks at himself, realizing his tail has shifted back, though he still has more scales than usual.

“Me too, apparently. Though I may have inadvertently thrown Virgil into a crisis.“

“So I gathered. How are you feeling? Any symptoms?” he shakes his head.

“no. Just… tired, I suppose.”

“Excellent. Then maybe you can inform me of why you didn’t tell anyone you were feeling ill, much less to the extent that you were.” He winces at the colder tone to Logan’s voice, though he can tell it’s out of worry.

“I… didn’t think to. I didn’t think you would want to be bothered, by me. I would have, truly, if I’d been aware how bad it was going to get.”

“You are not a bother, Janus, your health, both physical and mental, is important to me, as well as the rest of us. I would request you come to us, with any future problems, before you’re so fevered you’re hallucinating.” He huffs a small laugh at Logan’s dry tone, nodding once more.

“Will do, Logan. If that’s all settled, I believe someone promised food?”

Thu, 06 Aug 2020 21:52:23

Based on This Post by @fangirltothefullest (who is awesome and amazing, go follow). This was supposed to be a simple one shot, but as always, it’s really gotten away from me, so expect three to four chapters, instead.

…

The dark sides all have animal traits. But they also have hybrid forms. Something Patton, Logan, and Roman don’t realize until Janus isn’t able to help it.

….

He doesn’t feel quite right.

He brushes it off, at first, ignoring the slight chill that comes over him, every once in a while, the mild achiness to his bones, he ignores them all.

Then Patton comments on how his scales look pretty on his arms, when he’s doing the dishes, sleeves rolled up, and he nearly drops the plate he’s washing, before he regains his composure, letting Patton think the slip was from the unexpected compliment, as he excuses himself.

He notices his fangs are longer, sharper, the next day, and his chills are stronger as well, he spends nearly the whole of it working at his desk, wrapped in a blanket, trying to ignore the pain taking up residence behind his temples, pounding dully against his skull, as he examines and rearranges the schedule to make sure everyone has at least a day of self care planned for the week, before sending it back to Logan for assessment. He won’t admit it out loud, but he rather enjoys the back and forth, the bargaining, the trade offs, it’s a bit of a game of wits, finding how it all can fit. But today it just makes him exhausted.

He makes an excuse, not to come out for supper that night, saying he’s tired and plans to turn in early, which is true, he just leaves out the reason, which would lead to Patton trying to take care of him, and the last thing he wants is to force pity from Patton, so he keeps his mouth shut.

…

He’s shaking. The world is swirling and writhing around him, shadows stretching and shifting around him, forming almost figures, eyes glaring at him accusingly, whispers menacing his ears, telling him how poorly of a job he’s really doing, and he grits his teeth and bears it, even as he feels himself shifting into something different, scales blooming across the entirety of his face, his arms, coiling in on himself, as his tail forms, a ball python’s markings, in deep blacks and hazardous yellows, marking him as the venomous creature he is.

He doesn’t want to be this monster, but he can’t stop it, can’t stop the change, so he just hisses, cursing the world, burying himself in his tail so he doesn’t have to see anything, feel anything, outside his little bubble, though he can’t seem to stop shaking, no matter how tightly he curls.

…

He sees clawed hands tearing at him, shredding him to ribbons. Dark figures laughing as they rip him limb from limb. Violet eyes and neon green grinning, as they set him aflame, burning him to ash, and somehow, he can feel every second of it, taste the smoke on his tongue, convulsing and writhing as he tries to escape the smoke, but there’s nowhere, nowhere to go. Webs, pinning him down, eight eyes, eyes he knows so well, staring into his as the pincers bite into his neck, tentacles wrapping tight around his throat, lifting him off the ground, constricting him until he can’t breathe, until his own weight suffocates him-

Then suddenly it’s bright, far too bright, and he can’t see clearly, and he hears gasps, voices around him, hissing and flinching back at a touch to his forehead, slitted eyes flashing as his tail lashes, coiling.

“Leave me alone!” He growls, baring his fangs, his claws, ready to spring, even as the world spins and colors blend, everything shifting as if he’s looking through a fun house mirror.

“You’re burning up…”

“Calm down, Janus, let us help!” He hisses, drawing back further, heart pounding with fear, pulse racing with adrenaline, but everything is too much, too loud, too bright, and he can’t focus, can’t figure out where he is or what’s going on or who is speaking, past the pounding in his ears.

Then a hand comes into view, trying to reach him, and he snarls, letting the coils do their job, propelling himself forwards, pouncing, but the sudden movement sends a wash of lightheadedness through him, and the world goes dark.

“Janus! Janus, are you ok?!” He groans, barely managing to register the voice, barely managing to flick open his eyes for long enough to see a flash of deep blue, to realize someone has caught him, stopped him from falling.

“lo…gan?” He manages weakly, feeling the logical side let out a relieved breath, though he’s no less worried.

“Yes. You’ve got a severe fever, Janus, how long have you been sick?” His mind seems to be working at half speed, his tongue feels heavy and thick, and he barely manages a shrug.

“w-week?” He offers, already slipping away.

“Oh honey. We’re gonna take care of you, alright? You just get some rest, and when you wake up it’ll all be better.” He doesn’t trust that voice, not completely, but he knows in this case, it’s telling the truth, so he nods, shivering at the cold air on his scales, wishing for his heating pad, before he blacks out once more.

…

Logan lets out a low breath as Janus collapses in his arms, cheeks flushed, even through the scales now peppering both sides of his face, his pulse coming in odd unsteady beats, his breathing shallow and uneven. He’s ill, extremely ill, and he doesn’t know how none of them had noticed.

Then again, even after becoming accepted, Janus has always been the most aloof of all of them. Even now, they don’t really know much about him, he holds everything close to his chest. Which is maybe why Virgil and Remus are the only two who don’t look entirely surprised at the state of him.

That state being a half human, half snake, commonly known as a Naga, in folklore.

“We need to break the fever. Help me lift him, onto the couch?” Logan states, more than asks, and instantly, the twins are there, each taking half of his tail while Logan takes his torso, sliding him onto the couch, before wrapping him with blankets, trying to quell his incessant shivering, coiling tight, teeth chattering.

“Now what?” Roman asks, uncharacteristically quiet.

“Heated blankets, he has some, yes?” Remus nods.

“I’ll go get them.”

“Virgil.” He startles at Logan addressing him, his eyes had been locked on Janus’s form, huddled and so small, despite his large coils. He hadn’t realized his breath was starting speed, his heart starting pound. “Virgil, I need you to answer some questions for me. It could help in my treatment of him.” He nods, though his throat feels dry.

“He has shifted like this before?” He nods again, forcing himself to take a deep inhale and exhale.

“yeah. He doesn’t… he usually doesn’t. Doesn’t like to. But when he gets sick or hurt, he loses control, sometimes. Goes… goes into attack mode.” Logan nods.

“It makes sense, that as self preservation, he would have this kind of protective mechanism. Given his scales, I’m not surprised that he would take Naga form. And Remus has his tentacles, his half animal form being an octopus-“

“Kraken, dear Logic!” Remus trills, returning and tucking the heated blankets around Janus, making sure they aren’t set too high. They want a toasty snek, after all, not a toasted one. A minor distinction, but an important one, in this case.

“And Virgie here is-“ Instantly, the room grows ten degrees colder, the shadows lengthening, as it grows darker, all eyes turning back to Virgil, who is shaking his head, maybe just shaking in general.

“don’t. Remus, please… don’t.” Remus pouts, but instantly nods, coming over and rubbing his arms to dispel the chill, smiling as Virgil’s head thumps against his chest.

“Sorry, Vee. I forget what I’m not supposed to say and what I am. I didn’t mean to spill the beans.” He feels Virgil nod, knows he understands, he’s just scared and stressed right now, and so is he, it’s why his tongue nearly slipped. He has a bit more control than the others tend to think, at least when it comes to important things, secret things, like this.

“Virgil? You… you have animal traits too? That’s really cool, kiddo, why didn’t you tell us?” He winces at Patton’s question.

“you wouldn’t like them. Trust me, Pat, it’s better I just keep them tucked away, where they won’t cause any problems.” He mutters, a bit of fear curdling in his chest, at what he is, fear blooming at what they would do, if they knew.

If they knew his eyeshadow was to hide the three smaller eyes dotted underneath his normal ones, if they knew about his eight, spindly spiked legs, that could extend from his back, much like Remus’s tentacles, making him much faster and stronger than any of the rest of them, if they knew how quickly he could move, slinging web, how reflexive an action it once was, when he and Remus were young and would tussle, if they knew about his own deadly, venomous fangs, if they knew how when he was stressed, he still vanished into Remus’s imagination, to weave intricate webs, to put his hands to work so his mind would be silent.

“Virgil. I love you kiddo, no matter what, okay? Just remember that, if you ever do want to share. Whatever it is, it won’t change that.” He looks away, nodding once, though if Janus were in working order he’d call bullshit from a mile away, there were some things that they could grow to accept about him, yes, but his half spider form? Definitely not one of them, when even curtains with cartoony spiders warranted being called “creepy crawly death dealers” and getting attacked by Roman’s sword.

“So… now what do we do?” Roman asks breaking the silence.

“wait. He’ll shift back, once he’s feeling better, in control, again. Until then, we should all give him plenty of space, you three especially.” Virgil answers.

“Why is that?” Logan asks, and Remus grins.

“Janny’s got quite a nasty bite. Those fangs aren’t just for show!”

“He might lash out, is what he’s saying. And it’s better if no one is in reach when he does. Me and Re have a certain amount of immunity, to the venom, thanks to our… traits, but it would be really, really bad, for any of you. Plus, he isn’t used to you all being around yet, he’s less likely to lash out if it’s me or Remus, nearby.” Virgil explains, “you, um, you’ll trigger his fight reflex.” He doesn’t have to look up, to see the slightly hurt expression on Patton’s face.

“He doesn’t trust us yet.” Logan says softly, and Remus nods, though his face is tight, with a frown.

“That’s… understandable. We haven’t been the best of companions.” Roman murmurs, surprising both Remus and Virgil.

“He trusts you.” Remus states, looking firmly at Logan, who’s eyes widen in surprise, hand flying to adjust his glasses. “He doesn’t trust you.” Remus states, looking at Roman, who nods minutely, a brief look of regret flashing across his face. “And none of us trust you.” He turns his sharp gaze on Patton, who winces.

“Remus!” Virgil hisses, grabbing his arm.

“What? It’s true, otherwise you would have told them what you are, by now! Tell me, the reason you haven’t, isn’t exclusively to do with Patton.” He flinches, drawing back, eyes glued to the floor so he doesn’t have to see the hurt on Patton’s face, though he hears the sharp inhale of breath. “Tell me you aren’t afraid, of what he will do.” He gasps, the air flooding out of him, feeling as if he’s been punched in the gut, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He opens his mouth, ready to deny it.

“I can’t.” he whispers instead, blanching at his own words, drawing further back, into himself. “I… I can’t.”

“that’s ok, kiddo.” Patton’s voice is soft, trembling, and he looks up in surprise, at the words, Patton taking a step closer, though still giving him his space. “It’s ok. I’ve hurt you, a lot, in the past, unintentionally, but I still hurt you. It’s ok, that you don’t feel comfortable telling me everything, telling me anything. I don’t expect you to. I don’t need you to. I’m happy to just be here, that you’ve let me have this much with you, and it’s ok, that you don’t entirely trust me. It’s ok, Virg.” His lip trembles, then he’s in Patton’s arms, head tucked against his shoulder. “we’re ok, kiddo.” Patton hugs him tightly, rubbing circles against his back, pretending not to notice the sniffling.

“thank you.” Virgil whispers, pulling away, Patton reluctantly letting him go.

“Of course, Virgil. I’ll go get started on some soup and grilled cheese. Everyone needs to eat something, and hopefully we’ll be able to get some soup in him, too. Thank you, Remus. For being honest with me. It… it hurts, but I need to hear it, sometimes. It keeps me moving forwards. Keeps me getting… better.” Patton flashes him a small, tired smile, before ducking away, into the kitchen.

“I’ll go help. He gets shaky, when he’s worried, and he’ll nick himself cutting the vegtables, otherwise.” Roman mumbles, looking back at Remus, hesitating as if he wants to say something, before shaking his head and turning away, a rueful smile on his lips, a promise in his eyes, that they’ll talk later, when he knows what he wants to say.

“He… trusts me?” Remus rolls his eyes, sitting on the arm of the couch.

“Um, duh? You’re the only one who accepted all of us, right of the bat. Sure, you aren’t buddy buddy with us, but you also didn’t just dismiss us. You also listened to us, took us seriously, debated, not disagreeing just because of who we are. You treat us like… equals. That’s a rare thing, around here, Logan.”

“…oh. I… I see. Well. I will be keeping an eye on his temperature, checking in every few hours. If anything changes, fetch me immediately. I’ll get some cool water and towels, for his forehead. See if you can’t coax him into drinking something, as well, he’s likely severely dehydrated. I would suggest an IV, but I doubt his reaction to that would be ideal.”

“Ok. Sounds good, Lo. Thanks.” Logan nods once, before leaving, dropping off a bowl and towels, before vanishing once more. Virgil slumps to the ground, back resting against the couch cushions, hands buried in his face as he lets out a long, shaking breath, trying to stave off the panic creeping up his shoulders.

Remus frowns, brushing back Janus’s hair, dabbing the rag across his forehead, willing with all his might for the fever to go down, for his eyes to open, for him to smirk and say something bitingly sharp.

“Come on, DeeDee. Playing coy doesn’t suit you.” He whispers, eyes flicking to Virgil at the small snort from the emo, who shoves his hands up through his hair, leaving it messy and disheveled, his eyeshadow smeared across his face. If he looks hard enough, he can spot his dark little eyes, shiny, pure pitch little things, like reflective black buttons. “you know I’ve always found your little quirks cute, right?” He asks, not mentioning specifics just in case someone came by. Virgil lets out another short laugh, though the small smile stays on his face, as he shakes his head.

“I think you’re the only one who would describe them that way, Ree, but yeah. I know.” He mumbles, not protesting as Remus slips off the couch and onto the floor beside him, slowly and gently resting an arm around his shoulders. He scoots closer, tucking himself against Remus’s side, letting himself burrow into the warmth, safe and protected. “I’m scared.” Comes the low whisper, and Remus coos, turning to wrap his other arm around him in a warm hug.

“I know, shadow. I know.”

Thu, 06 Aug 2020 16:54:37

…

Patton was lost. He was lost, and scared, and alone, and cold. It was snowing, out, and he didn’t have his coat, his gloves, his hat. He was lost alone in the woods.

He shivered harder, at that thought, tears slipping down his face as he stumbled over a tree root, too slow to catch himself, as he fell over into the snow. It quickly soaked through his shirt, his pants. He realized he didn’t have his shoes on at all, which might explain why he was finding it so hard to move, to keep moving.

He didn’t know why, he needed to keep moving, he just knew that he had to. That’s what mama had said. She’d told him to run, to keep moving, to get as far away as he could, and to not look back, no matter what.

He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew it was bad. Mama had rushed him out the door, she’d been crying, she’d hugged him and told him she loved him. He’d heard shouting, heard screaming, smelled smoke, but his mom hadn’t let him see, ushering him into the woods outside the back door with the instructions to flee.

And now he was lost, alone, scared, fallen in the snow, in the woods, all alone, with no idea of how to get home, with the sinking feeling that home wouldn’t be there, even if he somehow managed to find his way back.

He started sobbing. He couldn’t help it. He wanted his mother, he wanted his father, he wanted to be home, sitting in front of the fire, mama humming a soft song to lull him to sleep as she knitted, papa coming in from chopping wood, scooping him up and spinning around until he was dizzy and giggling, he wanted to be back in their cozy little house on the edge of the village, on the edge of the woods, curled up and warm and happy.

But mama had told him to keep moving, keep going, so he forced himself back to his feet, though they were numb, and his legs were hard to move, and his breath was cold, his chest tight, but he forced it all to work, somehow, and he kept trudging forwards.

…

He finally fell, shaking and shivering, so cold he couldn’t even feel it anymore, against the base of a huge tree, if he were more aware, he’d marvel at the size, but his head felt weird and fuzzy, and the world felt distant and he felt so, so small.

He curled tight, not caring about the snow seeping through his clothing, the ice crystals forming against his skin, the snow already starting to pile atop him as it fell. He could feel his tears freezing against his face, could feel the numbness creeping through him, knew that was bad, that he shouldn’t stop moving, but he didn’t care. He was so tired. All he wanted to do was sleep. How bad could that be? Mama always tucked him in for naps, when he was sleepy at home. Maybe if he just thought of the snow as a blanket, he could sleep for a little bit, and keep walking later. That sounded nice.

The cold wasn’t feeling so cold anymore, either. He was starting to feel almost cozily warm, almost like he was curled back up at the fireplace. Almost like he was snuggled against mama, under his favorite blanket, listening to her stories. That was nice. He missed her.

“mama…” He whimpered softly, curling tighter against the sobs wracking his small frame.

“what in the name of gaia…” He hadn’t noticed the person approaching. Hadn’t heard the footsteps, but at the voice, he managed to blearily open his eyes, though his vision was blurry and clouded, specks of ice sticking to his lashes, coating his lids. He gasped and drew back, bumping against the bark of the tree, in the face of the being before him.

They looked like a large owl. They had the scaly legs and talons of a raptor, but a human torso and face, though instead of hair, he had dark, tawny feathers, small white ones outlining his widow’s peak and tracing his hairline. And instead of a mouth and nose, he had a dark black beak. He could see tawny wings stretching out behind the being, speckled lightly with black, though the being had human arms as well. A spirit, of some kind, a spirit of the forest. A spirit of death, according to the legends.

“P-please… please d-don’t h-urt me….” He stuttered out, breath heaving and shaking, the cold scorching his lungs, fear making his heart hammer in his chest, his tongue feel like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. The being crouched before him, and he shook, closing his eyes. He heard the figure make a soft cooing noise, and held his breath.

“It’s alright, nestling. I do not mean to cause you any harm. You must have traveled a long time, to get this far and deep into the forest.” The spirit’s voice was low and soft, steady and sure, and he found himself nodding.

“y-yeah. Mama s-said… mama said to r-run. T-to k-keep running. S-so I d-did. But I don’t know my way b-back and… and I think something bad happened. S-something really, really bad. And I’m scared-“ He broke off, voice wavering as it fell into a sob that tore at his throat, and he heard the spirit make another sound, this one sounding like a soft clack from his beak, as if unsure what to do. “I’m scared that something really, really bad h-happened to h-home.” He finished, swiping at his eyes, though his hands were clumsy and stiff.

“You did a good job, listening to her. It sounds like she is very brave, and very smart, and so are you, to have kept going this long.” The spirit hesitated again, before he heard him shifting, settling down onto the forest floor, peeking his eyes open, he saw him a good foot or so away, dark eyes speckled with gold and silver looking at him carefully. “My name is Logan. May I ask what yours is, little one?”

“P-patton. I’m s-seven.” He answered, shivering once more, feeling his eyes slip closed despite himself.

“Patton. You’ve been out here a long time, without any proper protection from the cold. I would like to take you back to my nest, to get you warmed up and safe. After that we can try and find your home. Is that alright?” His mind played over the thousand stories his mother had told him, of spirits whisking away children, never to be seen again, of fae swapping them out for changelings in the middle of the night, of will-o-the-wisps leading travelers astray, only to get them so turned around and lost they died in the woods.

But… but Logan seemed nice. And he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“Y-you pr-omise?” He asked, head drooping, unable to keep it upright as he felt himself losing hold of awareness, that warm tingling back in his limbs.

“I promise.” He felt arms scoop him up, and he gasped, because they were so hot! So very, very hot, after so long in the snow and the wet and the ice, and he nearly cried, at how nice it felt, curling tight against Logan, feeling soft downy feathers through the thin flowing fabric that covered his torso, nuzzling against them with a happy little sigh.

“I’m going to fly now, all right? It might feel a little strange, but I promise you’re perfectly safe. I’ve got you.” Patton didn’t respond, and Logan panicked, looking down at the now unconscious child in his arms. “Patton. Patton, can you hear me?” A small stirring of his limbs, but not enough, no awareness, and the poor thing’s lips were blue, his face so pale, his breath so slow and laboured. Hypothermia, obviously.

The best thing he could do was get back to the roost as quickly as possible, and start slowly warming him up. He just had to hold on long enough to make it back, and the wind of the flight would not help in preserving the little warmth Patton had left.

He quickly stripped off his shirt, wrapping the billowy fabric softly but firmly around Patton, holding the boy close to his chest, shielding him as much as he could with his arms, hoping the soft, fluffy downy feathers that lightly covered his chest would be enough to insulate him until they got home.

“It’s all right, Patton. I’ve got you.” One last adjustment, and he leapt off the ground, his powerful wings flapping hard to gain near vertical altitude, the climb much easier once he cleared the treetops and could spiral upwards, soaring high above the woods, towards home.

…

He alit on the edge of the cliff, glancing down at the child in his arms. His heat beat was slow and weak, his breath sporadic and shallow, and he cursed, passing through the illusory wall that led into his aerie.

It was a large cavern, but it never got cold, thanks to his influence. The ceiling sparkled with shining moonstones, and a large fireplace was carved into one wall of the space. He had a perch in one corner, along with a soft pile of furs, a desk against the wall. The real treasure was the books, the shelves lined and lined with books. He scoured the world for them, collecting them, fascinated by these testaments to human creativity and ingenuity, though a fair share of them were his own journals and scientific notations.

“Logan! Took you long enough, I’ve been waiting for ages!” He jumped at the voice, before ruffling his feathers, annoyance coursing through him as he glanced at the fire spirit, who currently had taken the form of a shimmering, scarlet dragon. Then he realized his luck, that Roman was here, a being with the power of fire, of warmth.

“Here. You need to warm him up, slowly. His core temperature is far too low, and a sudden change could do more harm than good. Make sure to rub his fingers and toes, to get circulation back into them, those are the areas that are most likely to succumb to hypothermia.” He explained quickly, Roman instantly shifting into a more human form as Logan placed the bundle in his arms, before hopping off across the space, to his herb storage.

It took Roman a moment, to realize what exactly he was holding. The little thing was bundled up tight in Logan’s shirt, but when he pulled it down his heart nearly stopped.

“Body heat is the best! You should take that off of him, it’s only hindering progress at this point!” Logan called, rummaging through his cupboards. Still in shock, Roman did as he was told, inhaling sharply.

A child. A human child.

“What… how… Logan!” He screeched, stilling as the child shifted slightly in his arms, curling closer to him, his thumb slipping into his mouth. Oh Gaia, the little guy was adorable, and he made sure his heat was softly surrounding him, slowly warming him up as he absently rubbed at his hands. “What are you doing with a human child!?” He hissed, Logan coming back with bandages and a soothing cream, that he started gently rubbing into the boy’s skin, instructing Roman to sit down with him, as he started rubbing his arms and legs, to get circulation going once more.

“I felt a call in my territory and found him all alone and more than half frozen. His village was attacked and ransacked, his mother managed to sneak him into the woods before the raiders reached their home and told him to run. I couldn’t just leave him there, Roman.” Roman sighed, brushing back the kid’s curly chestnut hair, noting some color was starting to come back to his face.

“No. no, I suppose you couldn’t. Is there any chance…” He trailed off at the shake of Logan’s head, dark eyes a bit clouded, as he glanced up at Roman.

“They’re gone. No survivors, except him, I suppose. I… I don’t know, how I’m going to be able to tell him.” Logan hissed as he got to Patton’s feet, wincing at the state of them.

The bottoms were completely torn and bloodied, the toes themselves turned a dark, angry purple, and he took a deep breath, knowing those would be terribly bruised and incredibly painful, if they came back from their exposure. He started slowly massaging warmth back into them, looking up at a soft cry from Patton, who’s eyes were fluttering uneasily, holding his breath as they opened.

“Patton. It is all right. Do you remember me?” He asked softly, those light blues locking onto him immediately.

“Lo-logan.” He whispered, and Logan nodded, smiling.

“Yes. Very good, Patton. We’re at my home, right now. We’re getting you warmed up, all right? My friend Roman is helping.”

“Hello there, little prince. Logan has been telling me just how brave you must be, to make it so far in the woods by yourself.” Roman murmured, once again brushing a hand through the child’s hair, his eyes already drifting shut.

“H-hurts. I h-hurt.” Patton wheezed out, tears dripping down his face, and Roman let out a low breath, stroking them away with his thumb.

“I know, little prince. But that’s a good thing, alright? That means your body is waking up from it’s nap in the cold. It means you’re going to be okay.” Patton was trembling, but he nodded.

“O-ok.”

“Patton. This is important. Can you wiggle your toes for me? It might hurt, but it’s very important.” Patton bit his lip, focusing hard, whimpering as more tears fell, but after a long moment, all ten of his toes curled and uncurled.

“Good, that was very, very good, Patton. Thank you, so much.” Logan encouraged, squeezing the kid’s hand once, though he had already slipped back into unconsciousness. Carefully, he finished loosely bandaging Patton’s feet, sweating against the low level heat emenating from Roman, as he scooped Patton back into his arms, nestling him close against his down, settling so Roman was pressed against his side, warmth encasing the nestling.

He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Patton. Every inhale and exhale filled him with relief, as they became longer and steadier, every solid thump of his heart reassuring him, every small movement of his eyes behind their lids making him wonder what he was dreaming of, hoping it was pleasant.

“Logan?” Roman asked, shaking him out of his thoughts, gaze meeting the concerned eyes of his friend. He let out a shaky breath, shaking his head.

“He’s so… small, Roman. So fragile. What am I to do with him?”

“well… you could always keep him.” Roman suggested, voice unusually even. Logan let out a sharp sqwuak, staring at Roman.

“Roman. I cannot simply keep a child. He is human, firstly. Secondly… me!? Raising a nestling!? I don’t know the first thing about caring for one, and this is hardly a safe place for one so little and unable to fly! He… I can’t possibly… what… Roman!” He sputtered, quieting instantly as Patton curled tighter in his arms, making a small whine, tiny hand clenching his feathers. He can feel his heart rate speeding and breath gasping. A nightmare.

Instantly, he’s fussing over the child, stroking his hair, churring softly, a deep rumble in his chest that soothes nestlings, and seems to work just as well on the human, as he settles moments later, though his grip doesn’t loosen.

“not a word.” He threatens, feeling Roman’s smirk without having to look up, unable to look away from Patton’s soft, sleeping face. He takes a deep breath. “he needs humans, Roman. He needs his own kind. I can find a good family for him, a good home. Somewhere stable, that can provide a safe, structured life for him. I cannot in good conscience simply keep him, Roman, no matter my own feelings towards the matter.” He looked up at Roman’s hand on his shoulder, his face serious for once.

“I know you’ll do what’s best, Logan. Just… consider that maybe that means staying with you. Ok?” He nodded, ruffling his feathers.

“I will consider it, Roman.” A brief silence passed by, both lost in their own thoughts, before Logan rested his hand against Patton’s forehead.”

“He’s sufficiently warmed. Would you mind, grabbing some of the furs?”

“Of course, Lo.” Roman swept over, picking out the softest one, carefully wrapping Patton in it, holding the boy in his arms for a moment, before passing him back to Logan. “I’ll leave you to get some rest. Try not to fret yourself to death, Hoot Hoot.” Roman swept out of the cave before Logan could respond, though his indignant spluttering echoed behind him.

…

Fire.

Fire and smoke and screams, everything was burning, and it was so hot, he was trapped in the flames.

He could hear mama calling for him, scared and voice shaky, and he tried to call out, to tell her he was ok, but the smoke choked his lungs, burned his throat, made his eyes water as the flames grew higher. He heard her voice fading, and he tried to chase it, tried to barrel around the flames, screeching as his pants caught aflame for a moment, before he patted them out, trying to run, though every breath choked him further, and he couldn’t breath, and the flames were closing in and the roof was creaking, and he looked up in time to see a fiery orange beam creak and snap, popping with embers, crashing down, down atop him, and he screamed.

…

“Hush, little one. I have you, little one, I have you.” He was crying, he realized, crying and sobbing, and as he realized that his scream choked off into a gasping, wheezing inhale, the air still burning his lungs despite the lack of smoke.

“Th-they’re gone. They’re all g-gone, aren’t they?” he sobbed out, feeling the hesitation in the answer, which only confirmed it, really, as he shook harder, sobs tearing at his throat. He felt the arms pull him closer, rocking him slowly, something soft and warm pressing in from a sides, but it wasn’t hot, like the fire, it wasn’t trapping and enclosing and crushing him, it was nice and safe and good.

“I’m sorry, Patton. I truly am. It is senseless and cruel and no one should have the right, to take them from you. But they would be so proud, Patton. That’s all they wanted, was for you to keep going, and they fought so that could happen. So you would keep going. And you did. You’ve done so well, little one.” Logan murmurs, heart wrenched in two as Patton shifts in his arms, hugging him around the middle, face buried against his feathers, and he tucks his head against Patton’s, nuzzling his cheek, churring once again, letting Patton cry himself out, letting him grieve, acting as a steady, solid presence to let him know he was safe.

“I m-miss her.” Patton whimpered, and his own breath caught, hugging the nestling tighter, wings wrapping closer.

“I know. And it won’t ever stop, that missing. But it will get easier.” He replied. “I know of some humans, in the next valley over, that would love to have a child, will take good care of you, keep you safe and loved and protected. You’ll be alright.” He uncurled from around Patton as he felt him shifting against him, those blue eyes peering up at him, a frown on his lips, set in his eyes.

“Why… why can’t I stay? Am I not… not g-good, enough? Do you not w-want me?” Patton asked, pulling away and looking down, and oh, how his heart was breaking, absolutely shattering, with fondness for this lost child, how had he already gotten so attached?

“Of course you are, Patton, you’re so good, and incredibly brave and strong and resilient. Of course I want you. But you should be with other humans. It’s dangerous here, for you, there’s so much that could harm you, and I couldn’t stand it if you got injured on my account.” He answered softly, crouching down before Patton, who refused to meet his eyes.

“But I was with people, and I got hurt, already. And… and I kn-know, you’d keep me safe. Y-you’re good, I can tell. Mama always said I was the best judge of character.

“Patton-“

“Please? Please let me stay? I’ll do anything you tell me, I’ll be so good, and quiet, you won’t even know I’m here, I’ll… I’ll…” Logan cut him off, sweeping him into an all encompassing hug, cooing softly, throwing his whole heart into it, feeling Patton bury his head against his shoulder.

“alright. If you’re sure that’s what you really want, I won’t force you to leave, Patton. But you need to know this. Spending so much time around me, around the magic of nature spirits, is going to change you. Over time, it will make you less and less human, more and more… other. At some point, there will be no going back.” He said seriously, making sure Patton was listening, understanding what he was saying. His lip trembled, but he nodded, sharp determination and hope burning in his blue eyes.

“ok.” He said seriously, before tilting his head. “Do you think I’ll grow feathers? Could I get wings, like yours?” Logan chuckled, ruffling Patton’s hair.

“Possibly, with time. Until then, I’ll just have to fly you around. Now, let’s get you off those feet, they’re still healing, and I don’t want you to reopen anything.” Patton sighed, but flopped onto the ground, pulling a fur around him, slightly dejected. He clearly wanted to explore, bubbling with energy, and Logan smiled. “How about I read for you? Will that make sitting still a little more manageable?” He asked, Patton nodding excitedly. He selected a book from the shelf, one of fairytales, before settling on the floor next to Patton, who immediately snuggled up next to him, pressing against his side, under his wing, as Logan began to read.

Soon, his eyes were slipping shut, a huge yawn escaping him, and Logan tucked his wing a little tighter as Patton fell asleep, slumping against his side, hands curling into his feathers. Still, Logan continued to read, not wanting to stop, lest nightmares mar the little one’s rest.

Oh, Roman was going to be so pleased, and not at all surprised, by this turn of events. And he hated to admit it, but he was happy, as well. He knew he would already give anything, for Patton, and he was so excited, to watch him grow. To see what he would grow into. And nothing, nothing would harm his nestling. Not ever again.

…

#sanders sides #fantasy au #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #sympathetic patton #sympathetic logan #sympathetic roman #child patton #fire elemental roman #air spirit logan #protective logan #fatherly logan #patton angst #nightmare #mild panic attack #hurtcomfort #hurt patton #hypothermia

Tue, 28 Jul 2020 10:29:04

…

He was trying.

He really, really was, trying.

But he couldn’t get Roman’s words out of his head.

And he’d heard the others, talking to the air, talking to him, they probably thought he didn’t, but he’d always been good at lurking in shadows, in pretending to not exist, he wasn’t surprised, he was able to mask his presence well enough no one could sense him near.

He’d heard Patton and Janus’s pleas. He’d heard Logan’s well reasoned arguments. He’d heard Roman’s apologies. He knew Roman was blaming himself, that it was tearing all of them up inside, but the thing was, Roman was right.

There were too many things, that could go wrong. Too many ways he could hurt them, too many ways he could destroy them, and he refused, he refused to drag them into his self-destructive spiral.

So, he stuck to the shadows, where no one could find him. He hid in the corners and under the couches and under the beds. He didn’t use his room, not since then they’d know where he was, and he stayed away as much as he could. He was exhausted and unfocused and half even deader than he already was, but he couldn’t let himself rest or he’d fizzle into view.

The closest he’d gotten was that night, with Patton. Everyone else had already been in their own rooms, and he felt guilty, Patton was staying out there for him, after all, and the least he could do is make sure he was comfortable. And now Patton’s words were rattling around in his skull, too, fighting against Roman’s, and he felt torn in two entirely different directions.

Maybe that’s why he found himself here, lurking in the shadows of Patton’s room, melted into the ones in the corner of the room. He heard the door open, and he took a deep breath as Patton came in, flopping face first onto the bed, slightly alarmed to hear sniffling emerging from the pillow his face was shoved into.

Slowly, he emerged from the wall, his inky, tarlike form slowly forming into something more solid, something that almost felt right, though it had been so long since he’d been anything other than a blob of darkness or a splotch of shadow. But as his form settles, it feels more and more… right.

“Pa… Patton?” He asked, voice rusty and hoarse, barely above a whisper, but it’s enough. Patton gasped, shooting upwards, and all at once Patton’s eyes were on him.

“Virgil!” he flinched back at the volume, form already destabilizing, it was harder to hold now, that he hadn’t in months. “sorry, sorry. I’m just… I’m glad to see you, kiddo. We’ve been worried.” He said softer, wanting to lunge, pull Virgil into a hug, but knowing he’d run if he did.

“so-rry. I-“ he flinched, a strange feeling coming over him, an almost nausea, almost vertigo, and he found himself on the ground, gasping as cold washed over him.

“Virgil!” he could tell Patton had yelled his name several times, but he couldn’t seem to hear right, the world was blurring and going fuzzy. Not just the world, he was blurring, his form bleeding away like a water color painting. He felt Patton’s hand on his arm, trying to say something, then the world shifted out from under him, Patton’s hand swiping through empty air as he vanished.

…

He stumbled hard, shoulder ramming into the wall, as he heaved in several deep breaths, trying to keep from full out panicking.

He felt weird. Solid. His body had weight, his form wasn’t flickering, he was leaning against the wall, but it wasn’t their wall. The house, he was in the house.

His breath sped again, remembering, shaking, crying, pulling at his hair as he screamed into a pillow, His words echoing in his head, he hasn’t been back here, not in the living room, since then, since he’d done it. He could feel the shadows darkening, starting to move of their own accord, starting to whisper.

“What the fwuh?” His eyes snapped open at the question, frantically taking in the scene.

Staring at him were two guys, both wearing twin expressions of shock and fear. Around his feet was a star in a circle outlined in chalk, a candle at each nexus.

“Summoning circle? What amateur fucking shit is this? Watched full metal alchemist a few too many times?” He choked out, biting sarcasm masking his fear and panic, trying to get the shifting tendrils of shadow slowly climbing the wall under control, succeeding in at least halting their growth.

“We… we were trying to summon Patton.” The shorter one said. He huffed, vision spinning.

“Well good job, dipshit, you summoned the literal opposite of that ray of sunshine. Now get me out of here!” He demanded, teeth grit against the strange cold seeping into his bones, the dark tiredness starting to fill him.

“Um. We don’t actually know how.” The taller one admitted sheepishly.

“Who are you, anyway? We only knew Patton and Roman.”

“Uh, no. You don’t get to interrogate me after practically kidnapping me.”

“Kidnapping… you showed up!” the short one, who seemed to have an attitude.

“oh yes, because I looove getting dragged to the physical plane of existence and talking to two idiots who think the funnest thing to do is harass people who probably don’t want to have memories of their recent demise brought back to the surface!” He shouted, breathing picking up again, hands clenched into fists, shadows wavering and breaking over the room, though he kept it in enough it didn’t attack, claws and glowing eyes and teeth ready to bite.

“You’re… Virgil, aren’t you?” He flinched back at that, shaking harder. “Oh shit, dude, I’m-”

“What? Sorry? Yeah, me too, now let me out!” he snarled, eyes flashing dark voids of shadow, his shadows writhing, and he found he had the anger to control them, and he hissed as one swiped through the chalk, releasing him from its hold as he struggled to stay standing, the circle giving him a truly physical form, draining his own energy to do so.

“We aren’t fucking toys. We’re people. We all died horrifically, at our hand or at others’. So next time, leave me the hell alone.” He snapped, his shadows encasing him as the solidness faded from his limbs, as his form fell to shreds, as the last of his energy was sucked from him, realizing the circle draining him dry, the crackling electric backlash of breaking the spell hit him full force, sending him reeling.

…

He fell, unceremoniously, crashing down from the ceiling and landing hard on the floor, crying out at the pain that shot through him, his vision flickering. He felt cold, icily cold, exhausted, drained, empty, barely, barely there.

“-il…-ear me? Virgil!” Roman’s panicked voice cut through his haze, though he found he couldn’t answer, couldn’t even nod. He was so purely exhausted, he was barely staying together at all. “Oh, love… it’s ok, I’ve got you.” He felt Janus lifting him up, and realized he must have landed in the living room. He thought he should be worried about that, for some reason, but his mind was already hazing over with fog. “Logan! Patton!” He called, the spirits appearing after a moment, any reprimand at being disturbed vanishing as Logan took in the state of Virgil, unconscious and form flickering, not the usual black, but a soft, faded gray. The same kind of gray that he’d seen on the others, on himself, when the wraith was draining them of their soul’s essence. Something had very badly damaged Virgil.

“What happened?” he demanded, trying to be steady, to keep Patton beside him from panicking.

“I don’t know. He… he showed up, in my room, then vanished, like he got pulled away, I tried to hold on, but I fell right through him!”

“Then he fell from the ceiling and crashed to the ground.” Roman finished, lacking his usual bravado.

“Lo, is he-“

“No, he’s not fading. Whatever started the drain has stopped, he’s stable, if very weak. An attempt at summoning, if I had to guess. Likely, they didn’t use anything to power the spell itself, so it used Virgil himself. He’s lucky he was able to break out, as he must have, for it to hit him this hard. Otherwise…” Logan trailed off, unwilling to finish that sentence, knowing from the silence the others knew his meaning.

“He was going to talk to me.” Patton said softly, tucking back a strand of Virgil’s hair, who didn’t seem to register the motion at all, lying still and pale as stone.

“He still may. He just needs to rest and recuperate, Patton. He will be all right.” Logan reassured, resting a hand on Patton’s shoulder for a moment, before turning away, trying to hide his fondness behind a frown. “Though we should figure out what exactly they did, and stop them from doing it again.”

No one noticed the green eyes glowing in the corner, alight with anger, at the state of his friend, because Virgil was a friend, whether he liked it or not. It was long past time the humans take notice of him, after all, and this would be a much needed… learning opportunity.

…

“well that could have gone better.” Thomas muttered, shivering slightly. The darkly moving shadows had vanished along with the ghost, the circle now smudged beyond recognition, the icy cold temperature of the room slowly returning to normal.

“No kidding. How’d you know that one’s name?” Joan asked, still staring at the spot he’d vanished.

“He… the real estate agent. He had to tell me, the previous tenant, Virgil… died, here. To suicide.” Joan let out a low breath, collapsing back onto the couch, grabbing a pillow to hug to their chest.

“shit. No wonder he wasn’t happy to be here.”

“It looked like it was hurting him.” Thomas murmured, remembering how Virgil was clinging to the wall, barely staying upright.

“That’s what happens when you do your research through google search, you silly billies.” They both stared at the glowing green eyes floating above them, the slow Cheshire grin forming out of nothingness to accompany it. “Someone gets hurt.” The voice growled, and suddenly it wasn’t a single pair of eyes, it was thousands, a towering mass of writhing tentacles and blindingly black light, a cavernous maw and a million gnashing, reeking tooth beaked mouths screaming.

They both gasped for air as the vision vanished just as quick as it came, a few mere seconds, a glance at the clock revealed, though it had felt like they had been trapped with that Lovecraftian creation for hours. Thomas could still feel the vibrations of the clacking beaks, hear the echoes of distant screams, and he could tell from Joan’s horrified expression, they had seen it too.

“I’m not exactly a fan, of people hurting my friends. Especially when they can’t do much in way of defense or… retaliation-“

“We didn’t mean to!” Thomas blurted, before the sinister presence could throw them into another nightmare. “We didn’t… we didn’t mean to hurt anyone. We just… Patton seemed lonely. So we were trying to find a way to actually see him, and… and we obviously didn’t do it right. And I’m sorry, for hurting him… Virgil.” He finished, a frown on his lips, thinking of the pain on the ghost’s face. “Is he… is he ok?” He asked, heart pounding a thousand beats a second, terror racing through him.

“Well, well, well, isn’t that interesting. The human has a conscience.” The voice echoed from every direction, bouncing around the room in the most disorienting pattern, one moment directly in his ear, the next all the way in the kitchen, the next above them near the ceiling, those green eyes and grin always in the corner of their eyes, always vanishing as soon as they turned to look.

“And what about you, short stack? Got anything to say for yourself, before I decide what to do with the two of you?” Joan gulped, holding the pillow tighter, knuckles white.

“Uh. He was right. Virgil. It’s not… we shouldn’t treat this like a game. You’re people. Not entertainment. But we do really want to get to know you all… to help, if we can. Even though we’re generally pretty shitty at showing it, that’s what we were trying to do. Help.” They managed, wincing as a dark chuckle rang through the room.

“Help, huh?” They yelped as they felt something cold wrap around their ankles, suddenly yanking them off the couch, dragging them across the floor, across the kitchen, to the basement door. Blinking their vision clear, adrenaline racing, they both practically held their breath as they watched a shimmering outline form, cringing as it was filled in with bones, then veins and arteries, pulsating flesh and decaying organs, finally a layer of skin growing over it all, putting a face to that Cheshire grin, the electric green eyes, as the being towered over them, smile wild and manic, eyes ablaze, a morningstar resting over his shoulder, his outfit some weird mix of sparkling satin and menacing velvet. They both flinched back as he leaned down, examining them, before extending a hand.

“Seems like you two can use all the help you can get. Now, if you’re gonna go full in on this, you gotta learn the basics, and if you abuse what I teach you…”

They shivered, seeing crimson blood splash across their hands, teeth ripping into their jugulars, shadowy creatures clawing them to shreds, screaming though no one else could hear, unable to move their bodies as inch by inch, their skin was stripped from their flesh, ants eating them from the inside out.

“And it’ll be twice as bad if you harm any of them ever again. There won’t be anywhere you can hide, that I won’t find you, and believe me, it’ll be a pleasure.” Their vision cleared, the images wiped away like fog on a bathroom mirror, forgotten nearly instantly, though the feeling of dread and terror lingered. “So. You in, or are you pussies?” Joan snorted despite themselves, earning an eye roll from Thomas, and a slight upturn of the lips from the being, though he still glared daggers at them. Thomas took a deep breath, accepting the outstretched hand, surprised as he made contact, and it helped pull him to his feet, solid, though it didn’t feel quite… real. Joan followed suit a moment later.

“Ok. I want to learn.” He answered solemnly, Joan nodding in agreement, gaze serious in a way it rarely was.

“Me too. If we’re gonna be the crazy ghost house people, we might as well really go for it.”

“It’s been a while, since I had such willing students. Oh, this’ll be fun!” He clapped, eyes swirling, teeth slightly too sharp.

“So… when do we start?” Joan asked, and Remus tsked.

“Patience. I have to get back before they wonder where I’ve went, and you have to start living like a normal person and not staying up until two scrolling tumblr!”

“What does that have to do with ghost summoning?”

“Nothing, just good life advice. Take from me, who’s never actually been alive!” Thomas and Joan exchanged a puzzled look.

“Aren’t you a ghost?” He cackled, a wild, howling sound, that sent shivers down their spines, as he wiped away tears from his eyes, floating on his back in midair.

“Oh, sweet summer children, you naive innocent fools, you’re lucky I’m in a good mood, otherwise it would be so very easy to break you. No, no, no, I’m not a ghost at all. I am a poltergeist!” He declared, suddenly close to Thomas’s face, gently booping his nose, those swirling eyes far too close for comfort as they stared into his. “And you may call me Remus.”

Mon, 27 Jul 2020 18:07:13

…

“No, Joan… Listen, I’ll call you back, no, it’s fine, I’ve just started unpacking, you can come by later…” Logan watched warily as the new human shuffled boxes around, speaking ceaselessly to someone on his phone, occasionally laughing, reassuring the person that he was fine, the drive had gone well, making idle chatter.

It hadn’t been all that long. Merely three months, but he wasn’t all that surprised the house went so fast, to a first-time owner, as well, judging by the looks of the young man. No doubt at an insanely low price, thanks to the laws dictating they disclose any deaths on the property, Virgil’s having been so recent, as well. He was sure Virgil was lurking somewhere, watching all of this, or perhaps he was hiding somewhere.

They’d caught glimpses of him, here and there. Nothing much, just a flicker of shadows, a tinge of darkness, always out of the corner of the eye, always gone before they could say a single word, and it was driving all of them a bit mad.

Patton and Janus had tried everything, to get him to come out, to get him to come back, but to no avail. They still often spoke out loud, when doing things, now, holding conversations with the air, just in case Virgil was nearby, listening, reassuring him that they were there, if he needed anything, wanted anything, they were there for him. To his frustration, Logan had also started doing it, not noticing until someone called him out on it.

And Roman. Roman was worse off than the rest of them. He was miserable, he was apologizing endlessly, trying at every turn to seek him out, but if anything, that seemed to drive Virgil farther away, the sense of his presence dwindling, the paint on his door fading and chipping off, a sign that he hadn’t been in it at all, maybe since the last time they’d all seen him, which meant he wasn’t getting the rest he needed, either.

With a sigh, Logan shook himself out of his thoughts, swapping back over to the spirit plane.

“Well?” Roman asked, laying upside down on the couch.

“Young adult, thirty, brown hair, brown eyes, named Thomas. Seems nice enough.” He reported. “Didn’t seem to notice me at all, no mentions of cold spots, hearing my voice when I spoke, seems just as oblivious as the rest of them.” He commented, noticing the tenseness fading out of Patton and Janus’s shoulders, Remus’s grin growing feral.

“Good. I like a challenge.” He sighed, ignoring Remus’s commentary.

“And… any sign?” Patton asked hesitantly. He shook his head, eyes clouding with worry for a moment.

“No. I would have expected… something, but there was no hint of his presence. I don’t know… I hate not knowing things.” He muttered, falling onto the far end of the couch.

“I know, Lo, but we’ll figure this out.” Patton answered, though his own voice was tinged with disappointment.

There were some cases, rare cases, where humans could see ghosts, speak to them, as if they were just normal, still alive people. None of them had ever met someone like that, the most they got were amateur ghost hunters, in years the house sat empty, when it had still been an old plantation house, and even they weren’t very perceptive. Some humans were more sensitive, catching glimpses of things, picking up on words here or there, cold spots, hot spots, that was more common. They’d have to wait and see, if this one could pick up on any of that.

…

In hindsight, they maybe should have been more worried, when the human, Thomas’s, friend showed up, with a bottle of wine, a cactus as a housewarming gift, and a Ouija board.

But most of that stuff was just hocus pocus, as Logan said, which set Roman off, quoting what was apparently a Disney movie.

“Roman, I am begging you to shut up.” Janus moaned. “I am trying to watch these idiots.” Roman scowled, but ceased, watching the two humans laugh as they lit candles around the board, turning off the lights, to add to the atmosphere.

“What do they think candles are gonna do?” Remus asked, continuously blowing out the small flame as they tried to light the final one.

“Probably supposed to symbolize a portal to the afterlife, or something similarly ridiculous.” Logan scoffed, still watching their actions with interest.

“Ok, who should we try and talk to?” Thomas asked.

“Uhhh, Abraham Lincoln!” Joan responded, earning a startled laugh from Thomas.

“What? Why was that your go to?”

“I don’t know, it was the first famous dead person that came to mind! What was your plan, then?” Joan asked indignantly, though they were smirking too. Thomas shrugged.

“Um. Hey. Anyone here who’s friendly and not, like, gonna go all Amityville horror on us, feel free to communicate with us, using this board.”

“Dude, they’re ghosts. How are they gonna know what Amityville horror is? Since when do ghosts watch movies?”

“I don’t know! You were trying to talk to good ‘ol Abe, I feel like you don’t have room to lecture here.” They both froze as the planchet moved. Not much, not far, but it had definitely moved.

“Did that just…”

“Hoooolly shiiit.” Joan whispered, wide eyes meeting Thomas’s. Neither of them had even had their hands near the board, much less touching the planchet.

In the ghostly realm, everyone’s eyes locked on Roman, who stood frozen, mouth agape, staring at the planchet he’d bumped against while leaning in to examine the board, as easily moved as anything he summoned himself.

“Oops?” He said, shushing Logan as the two humans started speaking again.

“Ok, um, ok, that’s normal! We probably just bumped the table! Um, is… is anyone here, with us?” Thomas asked. Immediately the planchet started moving again, landing on ‘yes’.

“ROMAN! What do you think you’re doing?!” Janus hissed, and he wrung his hands.

“I-I don’t know! They asked! It seemed rude not to answer? I haven’t exactly been in this situation before, Jan!” He fired back, their own panicking mirroring the panic going on between Thomas and Joan.

“What do we have to lose?” Patton asked softly, getting everyone’s attention.

“I am unclear what you mean, Patton.” Logan said, gaze turning to him, where he sat, biting his lip, fiddling with his cardigan.

“I mean… by answering them. What do we have to lose? We’re all stuck here, anyway. It’s not like they can hurt us. And… we live here too! Shouldn’t we get to know our new roommates?” He asked, voice getting higher in pitch with each word, until he squeaked out his question.

“Who are you?” Came the question from the humans, from the board, and Roman hesitated, looking back at everybody, asking what he should do, the question evident in his eyes.

“Fine. Go ahead. Patton’s right, I suppose, there’s not much they can do, besides leave. But I will not be involved in this.” Janus sighed from the couch, retreating to his room, to avoid whatever action was coming next. Logan nodded.

“I second Janus’s sentiments. Pardon me.” With that, it was Roman, Patton and Remus, who tried to swipe the planchet, but failed, swiping right through it, letting out an annoyed squawk.

“What?! Why!?” He screeched, Roman grinning like an idiot.

“Their opening. They said…” He broke off laughing, “They said anyone who wasn’t gonna Amityville them, Ree you’re literally a poltergeist, that stupid line is keeping you from doing shit!” He laughed harder at Remus’s indignant expression, eyes flashing with ire.

“OH, they’re gonna regret that bullshit. Imma haunt them so hard it’s gonna feel like a-“

“Thank you, Remus, that’s enough!” Patton interrupted, not wanting to know the end of that sentence, and Remus vanished with a scowl and puff of black smoke. Roman rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the board, spelling out his name.

“R-o-m-a-n. Roman. Like, a Roman soldier? What would they be doing here?” Thomas asked.

“What would they be doing speaking English?” Joan piped in.

“Good lord, these two are slow.” Roman muttered, moving the planchet once more, Patton giggling at his remark.

“My name is Roman, you idiots.” He spelled out, “And I am not a roman.” The two humans stared at each other for a moment, before bursting into only slightly hysterical laughter.

“We just got called idiots… by a ghost! What even… how is this happening?” Thomas wheezed, trying to pull himself together, devolving into giggles every time he and Joan looked at each other.

“I mean, they’re not wrong!” Joan shot back, once they got their breathing back under control.

“How did you die?” Blurted Thomas, and Roman rolled his eyes.

“Oh my god, you can’t just ask people how they died!” Roman replied, enjoying the befuddlement on the two human’s faces.

“I’m… I might be wrong, but did it just make a mean girls reference?” Joan asked.

“Yes. And I use He/Him, thank you. If you must know, I was a civil war soldier. Fighting for the North, y’know, the right team? But my family were assholes and lived here so… here I am!” He answered.

“Oh, good. He’s anti-slavery and not a homophobe. Cool, cool, cool.”

“Is there anyone else, with you?” Joan asked, and Roman bit his lip, turning to Patton, who eagerly grabbed the planchet.

“Hey kiddos! I’m Patton!” His answer was met with instant bursts of laughter.

“Wow. Straight from civil war action to dad mode. Um. Hello, Patton. It’s… nice to meet the both of you? We’ve never really spoken to ghosts before. Uh, you guys…live here?” Thomas asked a bit nervously.

“Yuppers! But we’re all pretty friendly. Mostly. None of us are violent, or anything, though some can be a bit… startling at times.”

“That’s only a bit worrying. Oh god, now I’m gonna hear every noise and think it’s a ghost. Because it could be a literal ghost.” Thomas mumbles, shoving back his hair, Joan chuckling nervously.

“Yeah, good luck with that one, Thomas.” Joan answers, getting to their feet. “It’s late. I should probably be going.”

“What? No, uh uh, after this, you do not get to ditch me on my first night in a new house in a new town that you made me learn is actually haunted, though the ghosts do seem polite, no offense, guys, just a liiittle freaky.” Thomas said, gaze shifting to the board for a moment, and Patton laughed.

“He’s worried about us! That’s sweet!”

“He’s worried we’ll haunt his nightmares.” Roman muttered back, watching the humans argue back and forth, before finally agreeing.

“Alright. Uh, we’re gonna go to bed and try and sleep. So… talk to you later, I guess?”

“Yes please! This is fun!” Thomas chuckled a bit at that.

“I’m guessing that was Patton. Good night, Pat. Good night, Roman, who is not an actual Roman. Uhhh, you’re dismissed?”

“Are you a school teacher? ‘you’re dismissed. Get some style. Farewell, my fellow brother in arms, may your gay heart guide you true!” Roman replied, making them both break down into a giggling fit yet again, as they blew out the candles, setting aside the board as they got up to get ready to sleep, Patton and Roman returning to their own living room in the spirit world.

“Well, that was… interesting.” Roman said slowly.

“It was… a bit nice. Talking. To other live people.” Patton said softly, and Roman stopped, pulling Patton into a hug, which he easily melted into.

“yeah. It was. But it did still take quite a bit of energy. We should get some rest, as well.”

“I’m gonna stay out here for a little bit. Just… just in case.” Roman sighed softly, but nodded, stepping away.

“Alright. Rest well, Pat.”

…

He had been asleep for a few hours, when he blinked open his eyes at a small movement. All he caught was a deep shadow, tucking a blanket tight around him.

“Virg?” He asked softly, the shadow freezing, the room dropping in temperature with his fear, and he moved to hide away. “s okay, bud. I love you kiddo, okay? Jus want you to know.” He mumbled, smiling as his eyes drifted closed, pulling the blanket tighter with a soft sigh. “you can come talk to me, anytime. I won tell. Promise.” He felt a soft pat against his hand, then the shadow slipped away, though Patton was sure he felt a little better than before.

Sat, 25 Jul 2020 23:05:13

~~Next~~

…

He looks up at the sound of quiet footsteps coming down the ramp, only half surprised to see Virgil, who wraps a blanket around his shoulders, before sitting down beside him with his own, head deep in his hood, dark eyes shining as he looks up at the stars.

“How is he?” Comes the soft question. Patton looks up at the stars as well, a soft breath escaping his lips.

“Lost. It must be terrifying, to go from having no choices, no power to make your own decisions, to having complete control over your life. He doesn’t know how to use that, anymore. Doesn’t know what to do with it all, what to do with himself.” Virgil huffs, arms wrapping around his knees.

“Yeah. I was… a bit like that. When I first joined up with you. It seems silly, now, that I was ever scared of you, Pat, but I was. I was terrified, what would happen, when you found me.”

…

He hadn’t been invited on board. Patton and Logan hadn’t even known he was on board. They’d had a brief stopover, to refuel, on his home planet, spent barely twenty minutes there, total, at the small waystation, not many people enjoyed spending time near the presence of wraiths.

Virgil himself included.

He doesn’t know, still doesn’t know, how he found the courage to sneak aboard, when no one was looking, it wasn’t all that hard, he just slipped into the shadows and slipped into the hold, trying desperately to contain his fear so it wouldn’t spiral out and affect anyone else, so it wouldn’t seep through to them, so they wouldn’t notice anything amiss.

He hated the planet, after all. Hated the cold cruelty of the place, the eerie darkness, the icy fear always trickling down his spine. They fed off negativity, off fear, and there was no one easier to scare and frighten and torment than him. No one to protect him, from the others. No one to stay for. He saw a way out, and he took it, intending to simply slip off at the next stop, whatever that was, and find a way for himself, maybe beg, do simple chores for pay, do something. He hadn’t intended to be found.

He’d been hiding out for maybe a week, in the storage hold. He was cold and hungry and tired, huddled in the corner, behind some crates, curled around himself, shaking. He’d felt fuzzy and strange, and realized that was probably due to the whole not eating thing, but he couldn’t find the bravery to go scope out, to scrounge for food, he just had to hope they’d set down soon.

An arm on his shoulder had woken him. He’d screamed, hoarse and cracked, woken out of his light, fitful sleep, warm hands on him, and he was afraid, waiting to be thrown into a nightmare, into whatever hell world they’d chosen this time, curling tighter, arms coming up to cover his head in the meager defense he could provide for himself.

“please… please don’t… please… s-sorry, s-sorry…”

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s ok, I’m not gonna hurt you, kiddo. You’re burning up, when was the last time you ate anything?” He’d shrugged, scared out of his mind, breath speeding, because he was caught, he’d been caught, and what were they going to do with him?

“dunno. L-last st-op. Imma… wraith.” He mumbled, waiting for the fear, the derision, the pain.

“Oh, baby. Can we get you upstairs?”

“What… what’re y-ou gonna do, w-ith m-me?”

“Get some food in you, to start, and some water. Then get you all cozy on the couch, with plenty of blankets and pillows, something to bring down that fever of yours.”

“Y-you’re not m-m-mad?”

“Of course not. You were scared enough to stow away, to leave your own planet behind and hide out in a ship you had no idea how friendly or cruel the occupants of it were. I think that speaks for itself, kiddo. I’m not mad. I just wanna help, ok?” Patton had asked, and he’d hesitated for a long moment, before nodding.

“O-ok.” He’d realized his teeth were chattering, flinching as he felt arms around him, lifting him gently, as he passed out.

It had taken him a long, long time, to open up to any of them, to say anything without prompting, really, he was quiet and meek and half shadows, most of the time, unable to keep his form physical with the endless fear creeping through him. No one was allowed to touch him. Not even Patton. Any sudden movement sent him tearing from the room, and he spent most of his own time locked in his own, still convinced that they would send him back, jettison him off, kick him off at the next planet and never look back.

It was Logan, oddly enough, that wore him down. He always said what he thought, always pointed out the obvious, always answers with the truth, no matter how hurtful or blunt it is. That pure… obliviousness… to the concept of deception, was what finally convinced him, that they truly did want to help, wanted to let him have his space, wanted to just… be there.

He’d never had kindness before. He didn’t understand, kindness. He didn’t understand why they were being so nice to him, when he hadn’t done anything besides flinch and hide and recoil from their touches, their gazes, their attentions.

That’s what had led to him sitting on the middle of his bed, huddled in his blankets, shaking as he sobbed, not looking up at the soft knock on his door, letting out something that might have been a strangled ‘come in’. For once, he didn’t flinch away, as Patton entered the room, as he sat down on the very edge of the bed, looking at him with soft concern and warm care, and he just… broke. He fell into Patton’s arms and just broke.

…

He comes out of his own thoughts at Patton slipping a hand into his, and he smiles wryly up at the moon, shaking his head.

“sorry. Just…” He trails off with a sigh, closing his eyes for a long moment, trying to steady himself.

“I know, Vee. They’ve come so far, already. And you… I’m so proud of you, Virgil. I really, really am.” He looks away, face red, hiding the small smile in the blanket around his head, smile growing as Patton rests his head on his shoulder, nuzzling against him.

“Pat, you’re making it really hard for me to nostalgically mope.” He mutters, Patton laughing softly against him.

“Good.” Patton says, wings uncurling and stretching out behind him as he yawns.

“Should you head in, Pat?” He asks, amusement coloring his tone, as Patton shakes his head.

“Roman wanted to stay outside. I wanna let him get as much fresh air as possible. aThey’ve been… confined, for too long, Virg. They’ve been through so much, I just wanna let him have whatever he needs.” Virgil smiles fondly, laying his blanket on the ground behind Patton.

“Alright. Lay down.” He orders, gently pushing Patton’s shoulder, who goes over with little resistence, a little giggle, stretching one wing out, resting Roman atop it, curling his other wing over him as he lays down, holding him close, Roman’s hands gently curling into his feathers, nuzzling against them, snuggling into the softness. He smiles as Virgil tucks the other blanket tight around them, before leaning down and kissing the top of his head softly.

“I’ll keep watch, Pat. Sweet dreams.” In the blink of an eye, Virgil vanishes into the shadows, though Patton knows he hasn’t gone far.

“G’night, Virg. Love you.” He mumbles, already slipping asleep as the cozy warmth seeps into his bones.

…

He wakes up screaming. For the first time in a little over three years, he wakes up screaming, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth, swallowing down the sound, choking on it, praying no one else has heard him, he doesn’t want to bother them, and he buries his head in his hands, trying to get a grip, because it wasn’t real, he knows it wasn’t real.

The white hospital bed. Firm, cold shackles against his upper arms and wrists, holding them tight to the armrests of the chair. An IV in his arm, pumping him full of vitamins and minerals and a mild sedative, something to keep him still against the sharp stings of pain as they carefully peel off every scale. He watches in quiet, morbid, fascination, as his arms turn from gold to crimson, as he starts to shiver, even the heating light they have on above him not enough to keep him warm, against the blood loss.

It’s still another hour before he’s hazing in and out of awareness, another half hour before they call a stop, binding his injuries with curt, steady motions, guiding him back to his small room, nothing more than white walls, floors, ceiling, a hard bed, a warm blanket, it must be night, because the uv rays are off, as they emotionlessly deposit him on the bed, as always, locking the door behind them without a word.

Tomorrow they’ll take more scales, until he doesn’t have any left. He’ll be sick and shaking and unable to keep any food down, they’ll hook him to more IVs to keep him alive, until his scales start to regrow and just when he’s starting to feel alright again, they’ll pluck him clean once more.

That’s his life. That’s all it’ll ever be. A sickly, half conscious life, hazed over with fever and pain, dying slowly from lack of contact, lack of socialization, lack of touch.

…

A knock on his door has him jolting, a strange foreboding in his chest, a tightness to his lungs, and he hears someone speaking, but they sound a million miles away, and he’s petrified, he can’t seem to move a single muscle, he’s frozen in place, though his mind is screaming at him, to do something, anything, he can’t, as his vision swims, he can’t.

All he can hear is the chiming tone that tells him its time to get up for the day, to put on his loose, white clothing, to quietly eat his meal, to sit on the bed and wait silently for them to come retrieve him, to keep his eyes down and his hands in front of him, to make no motion until told, otherwise they’ll be forced to retaliate to protect themselves, regardless of whether he’s attacking or not.

He’s never attacking. He’s too scared, too well trained, to attack, to try anything, at this point, he knows it would be useless. Even if he bit one, two of them, sent them shaking and convulsing to the ground, there would be more, and he can’t fight through them all, can’t make it out of this facility, wherever it is, doesn’t even know if they’re on a planet or drifting in space, and there’s no point to resisting. Better to be compliant and meek and do as he’s told.

Another soft knock, voice a bit louder, more concerned, gives him enough, shocks his mind, his system enough to break out of his stupor, to move, to stumble, stagger, trip over his own feet through a tilted, spinning world speckled with dark spots, to make it to the door, fumbling with the locks before finally managing to undo them, knowing that voice will somehow make this better, will somehow keep all of that from happening, will somehow get him out of here, where there’s no space and air and light and he can’t breathe or see or speak.

The door opens and he falls, though warm arms catch him, the voice inhales sharply, speaking, though he still can’t hear, he should be able to hear him, he can get the sense of what he’s saying, but not the words, and dimly he registers the arms moving, scooping him up, off the ground, and he clings to the voice, as they carry him somewhere else, somewhere open, more space, before sitting down, though not letting go.

He registers counting, a slow, steady rhtym, one he knows, one he uses, one he tries to emulate now, in fits and starts, feeling a hand softly running up and down his arm, shivering as it touches his scales, phantom pain making him flinch, and the movement stops.

“N-no… D-d-don’t…” He can’t choke out more than that, but they seem to understand, resuming their gentle up and down motion, especially light and gentle over his scales, slowly soothing him, because no one besides his crew, his friends, his family, are allowed to touch them, and only they have ever been this gentle with him, and as his breathing finally starts to even, his heart rate starts to beat normally, copying the rhythm it can feel from the warm body pressed against his, his vision starts to clear, and he slumps forwards, the tension leaking out of him as he presses his head into Logan’s chest, trembling as he takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“Janus?” Comes the soft, quiet question, and he nods, even that motion takes too much effort, too much energy, but he summons his words anyway.

“yes. ‘M here.” He mumbles, feeling Logan’s own relieved breath, his arms wrapping securely around his back, holding him close, as he realizes tears are slipping down his cheeks, unbidden. “sorry. Didn’t… didn’t mean to wake you.” Logan shushes him, slowly rocking him back and forth.

“No. I’m sorry. I should have realized, today’s events would be triggering. One of us should have checked up on you, after you settled Remus.” He shivers, folding tighter against Logan, exhaustion from the fading adrenaline and panic attack shattering his normal walls.

“If he hadn’t been there… Lo, if he hadn’t-“ He breaks off, choking on his words, on his fear. “I can’t do it again. I c-can’t… I didn’t know, then, but I do, now, and I c-can’t-“

“Shh, shh, shh, I know, I know, Janus. But you don’t have to. You will never, never have to go through that again. You’re safe, you’re safe, Janus, and we, I, will never let that happen to you again. I promise.” Logan murmurs, gently running his thumb in circles against Janus’s cheek, the other wrapped around his waist to keep him steady. “I promise. I’m not letting go, alright? Get some rest. I’ll keep anything from harming you, while you sleep, I promise.”

“N-not… Y-you and P-patton and Vi-rgil, c-can’t let them… can’t h-ave y-y-you-“ He can feel Janus already starting to drift, unable to hold on to awareness, after such a strong attack, plus his already elevated exhaustion and worry and stress, his words making his heart ache, because despite everything, Janus was focused on them, worried about them, getting taken, keeping them safe.

“We’re all ok, Janus. No one is going anywhere. No one is leaving. No one is going to hurt them. I promise.” He murmurs, relaxing himself as he feels Janus’s breath even into deep, long, inhales and exhales, going fully limp against him, smiling down at the sleeping Naga, at the trust and faith his friend has in him, to not need locked doors to keep him safe, when Logan is right there, watching over him.

He forgets, sometimes, where Janus has come from. How long, he spent in that endlessly cruel monotonous captivity.

He came so far, so fast, and even now, he masks his pain so well, hides behind that wicked smirk and smooth surety, and its so easy, to forget when they first got to him nearly eight years ago he barely spoke a single word for three months, nearly convincing all of them he was mute. It took him longer still, to understand choices, they had to introduce them slowly, starting with ‘would you prefer A or B’ type questions before moving to open ended ones.

It’s easy to forget, just how brave he is, acting as their inside man when necessary, posing as a buyer to get onto smuggler’s ships, playing the part he hates more than anything, no doubt terrified beneath the surface, because if anything went wrong, in most cases, they wouldn’t be able to get to him in time. But he never backs down, never says no, and Logan knows that Janus would rather perish than fail to free whomever they held trapped, and it scares him, his reckless, fast paced bravery, scares him. Because he is just as terrified of losing Janus as he clearly is of losing them. It makes him hold on a little tighter, continuing to rub Janus’s back, to murmur softly to him, keeping him company through the rest of the night.

Fri, 24 Jul 2020 18:02:36

~~Next~~

The next little part of my Darkside Logan series! Enjoy!

…

He wakes to a wild screech, glitter and party popper streamers raining from the ceiling, an incredibly loud noise maker going off, fireworks exploding against the ceiling, in pops of deep indigo and silver sparks. He raises an eyebrow as he sits up, stretching, lips twitching into a smile at Remus whooping and cartwheeling around his room, finally coming to a stop in front of him, clapping his hands and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Good morning to you as well, Remus. That was quite an impressive show.” He says evenly, the last of the glitter settling on the ground around him. “I do hope you’ll clean that up later, otherwise it’ll get everywhere.” He yelps as Remus pulls him to his feet and into a waltz, disembodied music drifting through the room, laughing as Remus spins him quicker than his mind can process, dipping him low to the ground. Then Remus swears, and he feels the balance shift, and they’re both on the floor, Remus landing atop him in a tangle of limbs, both of them erupting into startled laughter.

“Not that you need a reason, but this seems like extra effort, even for you. What’s the occasion?” He asks, once they both get their laughter under control, untangling from each other as Remus helps him back to his feet, grin wide and wild, practically vibrating with energy.

“Cygie! You really don’t know!?” Remus exclaims, linking arms with Cygnus as they leave his room, slowly walking down the hall to their kitchen.

“Hmm… nothing comes to mind?” Remus squeals, pulling him faster towards the dark commons, Cygnus’s breath leaving him in a rush as he takes in the state of the room.

It’s decorated with indigo and silver streamers draped in intricate knots across the ceiling. There’s an archway made of black and blue balloons over the entry way to the kitchen, sparkling silver stars dotting the walls, glittering tape tracing constellations in them. And across the wall, above the couch, is a hand made, hand painted, beautifully caligrohpied sign.

“Happy birthday, Cygnus.” Janus says, echoing the sign, emerging from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, watching him appraisingly.

He can’t seem to find his words.

“Cyg?” Remus asks softly, coming around his front, taking both of his hands, and he realizes his eyes are watering, on the verge of tears. “Oh shit, did we fuck up? I’m sorry, was it the glitter? Was it the penis I hid in the happy bday sign?”

“WHAT?!” Janus squawks indignantly at that, and Logan lets out a laugh, shaking his head, because he loves these two, so much, and he’s trying to regain his composure enough to explain.

“No, I… it’s wonderful. I just… I’ve never celebrated, my birthday before. I never… kept track, with them. I… it’s been a year, already?” He asks, looking between Remus and Janus, who are sharing slightly horrified and slightly concerned looks.

“You never… they never did anything for you? Not even Patton?” Remus asks, his voice so high it’s nearly at a pitch only dolphins can hear. He shakes his head, looking away.

“There were more important things to attend to. I didn’t want to distract everyone. No one… remembered, anyway, so I just… stopped, keeping track.” He explains, not protesting as Remus pulls him into a tight hug.

“Well. Your happiness and self worth are very much more important than having a productive day. If Roman gets a full week of birthday shenanigans, the least they could have done was give you a day, sweetling.” Janus adds softly, joining the hug for a brief moment, before pulling back, wiping away Cygnus’s tears, a soft smile on his face. “you deserve it, Cygnus. You work so hard, darling. You deserve to be pampered and fawned over for at least a day.”

“Every day must be my birthday then.” He answers, smiling at Janus’s soft laugh, who ruffles his hair as he passes by.

“Oh, you haven’t seen nothin yet, my starry night! Today is going to be a nonstop orgy of Cygnus appreciation! To Breakfast!” Remus screeches, sprinting into the kitchen, from which loud crashing emerges a moment later, along with a muffled “I’m okay!” That has Janus shaking his head with an exasperated smile as he follows Remus into the kitchen, ready to manage whatever mess he’d made.

…

A year.

It has been a year. One whole year. Three hundred and sixty five days. Five hundred, twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes. Thirty one million, five hundred thirty six thousand seconds.

It hasn’t felt like that long. Or maybe it has felt longer, with all the changes taking place in the mindscape. He’s not really sure, but it sure is giving him a bit of a strange sense of vertigo, right now.

It’s almost impossible, to compare where he is now to where he was a year ago, two years ago. He’s… happy. He’s so much happier than he’s ever been before, he feels appreciated, he feels loved, he feels listened to. He’s not working himself to near death every single day without giving himself any breaks. He’s not pretending to be a machine, not denying his emotions anymore. He’s smiling, he’s laughing, he’s crying, he’s… learning, how to express himself, to understand his emotions, and always, always, Remus and Janus were patient and considerate and there for him.

His relationships with the others are also probably better than they have ever been before. He was right, when he told Patton so long ago that they would do better as friends than as family. That the distance would be good for them.

Everyone is making progress, in leaps and bounds, in acknowledging their own faults, in realizing their own shortcomings, in accepting their flaws and reaching out for help. It helps, he supposes, that there are now two sides who can, in a way, sense lies. Neither him nor Janus will let the others get away with denying their needs or wants, not when it’s important, anyways, and slowly, everyone is getting into the habit of simply… not hiding.

Patton is open, about his bad days. The days he calls ‘gray days’, where the world doesn’t seem to shine, where nothing feels right or good, and he can’t see a point to getting out of bed. He’s devised several signals, clear markers with everyone that show a day is gray, so he doesn’t have to say it, to speak it out loud, because even that is too hard, somedays, it’s easier to just leave a frowny face sticker on his door, and the first one to see it tells everyone else, who take turns spending time with him, coaxing him into activities, or at least out of bed, slowly driving the apathy away.

Roman is still trying to find himself. To rebuild himself, from the crushing defeat and existential crisis of the wedding, and everything it resulted in. He still struggles to admit when he’s struggling, still finds it hard to portray anything other than the happy, peppy persona, but he doesn’t pull back, run, anymore, when someone calls him out. If someone asks how he’s feeling, how he’s doing, Roman won’t paste on a smile and chirp out an answer. He’ll let his mask fall, and answer honestly. It’s too hard, yet, to bring it up himself, so the others are learning to ask, making sure to ask, making sure to not simply brush Roman’s worries or frustrations aside. He’s happier, too, Cygnus knows, the time spent writing with Thomas has him happier than he’s been in years, and more and more days the answer to how he’s feeling is on the okay side of the scale.

Virgil… has stayed much the same, outwardly. But he spends more time, now, with Remus and Janus, and… himself. They’ve talked, quite a lot, actually. He explained his history with the other two dark sides, why he acted how he had towards them, had explained too about his old, unhealthy, habits, how he still struggles, every once in a while, though he hasn’t given in and done it in years. He’d hugged Virgil then, it was maybe the bravest thing the anxious side had ever done, telling him that, telling him everything, apologizing for how he’d reacted, the first time he had appeared to all of them, as Ambition. He’d found it impossible, not to forgive him. Overall, he’d handled it the best out of any of them.

And Thomas.

He’s so proud of Thomas. He’s taken everything in stride. He’s making time for himself, making time to spend individually with every side.

He’s writing with Roman, and also with Remus, working with him to express his horrifying ideas in darkly comedic ways, countering Roman’s fairy tale quests and happy endings.

He’s watching movies with Virgil, or swapping music with him, listening to him spout off about his favorite bands, favorite lyrics. They’ve broken out the karaoke machine a couple times, singing at the top of their lungs, dancing like fools around the living room until they’re breathless from laughing. Virgil’s smile is becoming a more and more common sight.

He’s crafting with Patton, the fatherly side teaching him how to knit and crochet, which Patton is an expert at, fawning over every one of Thomas’s haphazard attempts at a scarf or pot holder. While their hands are busy, they talk, about anything and everything. They’re even attempting to learn how to cook together, though that often ends with the smoke alarm going off. They’re not allowed to cook unsupervised anymore, usually Virgil or Janus keeping things from getting too out of hand from the living room couch.

He’s playing video games with Janus, who loves to pick out the strange, indie games, the ones with ambiguous story lines, twist endings, choices that affect the game, affect the people in it. They discuss undertale for hours, Janus going on an hour long monolague of Flowey’s morality, his take on how much influence Asriel actually has on Flowy, when he’s soulless, surprised that Thomas pays attention the whole time, just as into the game as he is. They play A Way Out together, and Thomas actually throws the controller at the plot twist, shock on his face, as he’s forced to battle Janus, who is laughing the whole time at his indignant spluttering and shocked expression, Janus absolutely annihilating him.

And himself. Thomas hadn’t been lying, when he said nothing changed, between the two of them, just because he is now Ambition. Thomas hasn’t shied away from him, hasn’t excluded him. He’s made time for him, as well. He’d bought a telescope, and set it up in the backyard. They go stargazing together, Cygnus pointing out the planets, when visible, the constellations, passing comets, relaying their history and myths, Thomas asking questions at every turn, until their conversation was somewhere else entirely, talking about anything and everything. They’d also started a bit of a book club, as Thomas called it, though it was really just the two of them. Each month they took turns giving the other a book to read, and then they’d discuss it. He usually sticks to the classics, the three muskateers, moby dick, the jungle book, and he was a bit surprised at how fast Thomas took to them, how much he enjoyed them, enjoyed discussing them. Thomas’s choices surprise him sometimes, too. It’s not always another adventure novel, sometimes it’s the original book of Wicked, or a nonfiction book about the history of cartoon animation, he varies more than Cygnus would have guessed, and he’s surprised at how… entertained, he is, by Thomas’s choices, the ones he would never have picked to read himself.

But most importantly, most incredibly, were the others. Patton, Roman, Logan, Virgil. They had all, individually, apologized, for the way they had treated him, talked over him, ignored him, silenced him. And they were proving they meant it. Every day, they were proving they meant those apologies. They were listening to him. Listening to each other. Everyone has an equal voice, now, and everything feels… good.

So why, does it having been a year, make him feel so… strange? It’s not sadness, not even nostalgia, really, it’s… something melancholy. Something a bit happy, something a bit sad, something a bit wistful.

“Cygnus? Are you alright?” He blinks away his thoughts, realizing he’s been staring at his plate of pancakes for a solid five minutes without taking a bite. They look delicious, topped with sugared berries and warm syrup.

“Just… lost in thought. These are from your garden, correct? Hopefully the non venomous section.” He answers, looking up at Remus, who’s shoveling pancakes topped with caramel and rainbow sprinkles into his mouth, who swallows hugely, nodding.

“Yuppers! And I did pick the ones that won’t kill you, just for your b-day, cygie! At least, they should be mostly non toxic. Let me know if your tongue starts tingling.” Remus answers, and Cygnus chuckles, cutting into his pancakes.

“I will take that into account.”

…

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, when he wanders up the stairs, towards the light side living room. He doesn’t even intend to go there, really, it’s just… where he’s drawn.

“Ambition. We, uh, didn’t expect you, so early.” Roman says, peeking out of the living room, moving to lean against the doorframe, blocking his view of it before he could see anything.

“Roman. You are acting… strange?”

“Me? Wha? No, I’m being perfectly normal! Because you, Ambition, is here!” He sputters, saying the last sentence far too loud to be normal. He’s about to reply, when Patton’s head appears, shooing Roman out of the way.

“You, go finish the… the project! Ok, Roman?” Roman nods, scurrying back into the living room, Patton taking his place blocking the doorway.

“Is everything alright, Patton?” He asks, slightly amused, and only mildly concerned at a distant curse from Virgil.

“Uh huh! Just finishing up something! What brings you here, Ambition? Not that it isn’t good to see you, and you’re of course welcome here all the time, but why on this particular day at this particular moment have you chosen to come visit?” Patton squeaks, his tone rising in pitch until it was nearly above human hearing.

“Are you alright, Patton?” He asks, trying to gauge what exactly has everyone so on edge.

“Yup! Just waiting for the ok!”

“The okay for what?”

“We’re ready!” Roman calls, and Patton steps aside.

“The ok for this.” Patton says softly, stepping aside and ushering him into the living room. For the second time this day, all the air escapes his lungs, and his hands cover his mouth to stifle whatever noise is trying to escape, he can’t tell if it’s a sob or a laugh or something in between.

The room is decorated with glow in the dark stars, blue and white flowers climb the walls on deep green vines, blooming from the cracks in the plaster, filling the room with the sweet smell of summer. On the table sits a cake, carefully air blown a blue ombre, constellations carefully traced across it in silver gilding, it must have taken hours. He can feel the tears slipping down his face, knows everyone is trying to figure out what to do.

“Ambition. Can I hug you?” Virgil asks, stepping into his field of view, and he nods, letting Virgil wrap his arms around him, surprising even himself as he hugs back, face buried in his shoulder. He feels Roman’s arms wrap around him from behind, Patton’s joining a moment later, surrounding him in warmth.

“you remembered. I… you’ve never…”

“We know. I know, Amby. And we’re so sorry.” Roman murmurs, pulling back.

“I know this doesn’t make up for that, for all those years… but we thought maybe, maybe this could be part of starting over. Of being better.” Patton adds, smiling through his own teary eyes as he pats Ambition’s shoulder, before pulling away as well, Ambition finally emerging from Virgil’s embrace, swiping at his eyes.

“Yes. I would… like that.” He mumbles, still a bit awestruck.

“Oh, let’s get Janus and Remus, for presents!” He frowns slightly at that, stepping back.

“Did they put you up to this?” He asks, voice trembling, and he hears Janus’s soft laugh from the doorway.

“No, sweetling. This was all them. We didn’t tell them a thing.” Janus murmurs, appearing with a swish of his cape, Remus thundering up the stairs behind him.

“Nice digs! Not nearly as sweet as our decorations of course, but you tried!” Roman splutters indignantly at that, squaring off against his twin.

“Please! I bet I could plan a party better than you, any day!”

“Maybe if it was for babies. Can you even make a cocktail?”

“Of course! I know how to mix drinks, Remus.” Remus grinned, eyes swirling.

“I was thinking more of an entrée.” He replies with a smirk and shoulder shimmy.

“Remus.” Janus says, exasperated, glancing at Patton.

“It’s alright. He’s just excited! I’m sure you’d throw very interesting parties, Remus. If… if you promise not to make it too scary, maybe you and Virgil could team up for a Halloween one.” Patton suggests, laughing as Remus squeals, launching himself into Virgil’s arms, who catches him instinctually in a Scooby-Doo like hold, before dropping him like a hot potato.

“What the heck, dude!?”

“Can we? It’ll be like old times, you and me, creating horrors and monsters and creeping lurking things? Pleaaaaase?” Virgil snorts as Remus bats his eyelids at him, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” He mutters in agreement, trying to contain his own grin as Remus whoops, spinning him around in a circle, already babbling about ideas. It’s good, to see them laughing together.

“I believe someone said something about presents?” Janus drawls, resting a hand on Cygnus’s back, gently leading him to sit down on the couch. Instantly, everyone else crowds around, clamoring over who gets to go first, and he’s crying again, because not only are they giving him attention, they’re fighting for his attention, and he supposes he should feel guilty about liking it, but Janus has rubbed off on him, a bit, so he just smiles, instead.

Before anyone else can, Roman shoves a box into his hands, grinning at having gotten in ‘the first gift’, everyone settling as he stares at the shimmery blue wrapping paper. Tentatively, he peels back the paper, removing the cardboard top of the small box, eyes widening.

It’s a large, blue star sapphire, embedded in a silver filigree, hanging from a silver chain. He lifts it, slightly awestruck, turning it over as his thumb feels grooves against the back, tilting his head to decipher the writing, discovering it’s his name, Ambition, in circular galifreyan.

“Did I get the spelling right? I looked up several guides, but there’s a lot of rules and such.” Roman asks, no doubt nervous at his silence.

“It’s… it’s perfect, Roman. Thank you.” He says softly, slipping the chain over his head, the pendant resting just above his heart. He looks up in time to see Roman’s blush, his expression so tenderly soft, looking at him, that he clears his throat and looks away.

“Me next! Ours are a set!” Remus interrupts, shoving another box into his hands, slightly larger than the previous one, though much the same weight. “Ro had the idea, and we coordinated our results!” He chirps, as Cygnus pulls open the box, a soft grin already on his face.

It’s a silver circlet, with a teardrop blue diamond that will sit in the center of his forehead, and engraved along the inside of the circlet is more galifreyan, this time that reads ‘cygnus’. The band is thin and light, but sturdy, and he knows the engraving must have taken a long time, to do by hand, requiring a lot of patience and focus.

“It’s wonderful.” He murmurs, slipping it onto his head, finding the weight odd, but rather comforting. His past self would have scoffed, at these items, said he didn’t desire to play pretend, to play dress up, and what was the point of them? But he knows better, now, has more confidence in himself and expressing himself, now, and he knows he’ll rarely be seen without them on, he loves them already.

“Wow, ok, well, way to make a side feel wholly inadequate. Um, here, I guess.” Virgil mumbles nervously, depositing a tissue paper wrapped item in his lap. “It’s not much, compared to, that, but-“ Virgil cuts himself off with a shrug, toeing the floor nervously as he unwraps the paper.

It’s a photo. He’s in the kitchen, head thrown back, laughing. Remus is a blur of green movement in the background, chasing a blur of red, a pot is boiling over on the stove, Patton frantically stirring it, trying to scold the twins from over his shoulder, and somehow Janus is hissing from atop the fridge, clearly having climbed up there to escape the shenanigans below. He smiles, running his thumb over the frame, touched that Virgil had thought to capture that moment, one of the first moments of happiness since everything had happened, one of the first times they’d all been together, and all let themselves go.

“I love it, Virg. I… thank you.” He murmurs, low and sincere, and a small smile creeps across Virgil’s face as he nods, tension leaking out of his shoulders.

Janus is next, his simple, a book Cygnus has been meaning to read for ages, but he knows it’s really an invitation for a debate, or perhaps to set up a lecture in the mindscape theater, an open invitation for a day spent ranting and raving and arguing and debating, until they’re both too tired to continue, losing their thoughts mid sentence, trying to string together coherent points at three am. He sets it aside with a small nod and smile, all Janus needs, to know he’s understood, and appreciates it.

Patton is last, but not least, not in the slightest, as he sits down on the couch beside him, nervously running his hand up and down the couch.

“Mine’s a bit… a bit of a group project, I suppose.” He says, handing the package to Cygnus. It’s bigger than the others, with a bit more weight to it, as well, a card taped atop the paper wrapped package. The front has a rough drawing, of all of them together, holding hands. Inside it says ‘Ambition. You’ll always be a part of my heart. Happy birthday, kiddo. Love you.’ With doodles of butterflies and stars and planets.

He’s already smiling warmly at that, as he carefully sets it aside, opening the package to find a large book. On the cover is space for a photo to be inserted, and he recognizes it immediately, it’s a selfie Thomas took with all of them. The cover is patterned in silver constellations, the background a deep blue, and curiously, he flips it open, finding the cover is signed by Patton, Virgil, and Roman, who have all written short notes to him, expressing their support, their love, their pride, in who he is becoming, in his own self. His hand is shaky as he turns the page, finding it decorated with stickers and intricate doodles outlining the edges of the pages, the edges of the photographs, each of the three of them recounting what was going on in each picture, leaving their own commentary, witty and sarcastic and heartfelt, on each photo of him smiling, them as a group, him stargazing with Thomas, Him and Janus in the debate room, eyes flashing as they argue, him on stage, wearing safety goggles, Remus helping him with an experiment, him and Patton, decorating cookies, Roman dragging him through the imagination, to search for dragons, a thousand memories and moments and smiles, genuine smiles, all put in one place, all outlined with drawings, all filled in with their words and laughter and remembrances, and he’s shaking, again, a hand over his mouth as he puts the book aside, not wanting tears to stain the pictures, to smear the ink, he wants it to stay perfect and pristine forever, he hadn’t realized they were taking pictures, hadn’t realized they’d cared to memorialize his happiness, hadn’t realized that those moments meant just as much to them as they did to him. Hadn’t realized how much they meant it, when they said they truly, deeply, cared.

“Oh, kiddo. Can I?” Patton asks, arms open, and he nods, letting Patton sweep him up into a hug, letting himself squeeze back, breath hitching. “I love you so much, Ambition, and I’m so… I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of all you’ve done, and how far you’ve come, and much you pushed all of us to be better, you’re so good, Amby, you’ve always been the best of us. And I’m just… I’m so glad, to see you so happy, kiddo. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, for any of you, is to be happy. You’re a part of this family, kiddo, and we love you, we all love you, so, so much.” Patton murmurs, as he feels others joining the hug, surrounding him in warmth and arms and soft assurances from all sides, overwhelming him, with their support, their love, their affection. It’s everything, this is everything he’d ever hoped for, been too afraid to ask for, been denied, as Logan.

But this… they’d done this. All by themselves, they’d done this, they’d remembered, they’d gone out of their way, to do this for him, they’ve been doing it for the entire year, every day, and he realizes, suddenly, that he’s started trusting them again. That he wants this to truly be a new start, this, today, here, is the last bit of proof that he needed, to show him they mean it, they mean their words and promises about doing better, they mean their I love you’s and affection, they put weight behind their words, and followed through, and he thinks maybe it’s time he does the same.

So despite himself, he pulls away from the hug, smiling at the mild cursing that comes with the twins trying to disentangle themselves from around him, taking a moment to wipe away the tears from his eyes, to take a deep breath, to compose himself. His heart is pounding, irrational fear biting at his heels, and he thinks Janus understands, the leap of faith he is about to take, can sense what he is about to do, and he slips his hand into his to steady him.

“I… have something, I would like to say.” He says, softly, voice a bit tremulous, but the others all give him encouraging nods, and once again, he’s shocked at the difference between now and then, everyone staying silent, giving him space to speak, willing to listen. “I know this hasn’t been easy. I know… I know it hurt, in a lot of different ways, everything… everything that’s happened. But instead of pulling further away, this pulled all of us closer together, and I’m… I’m proud, of everyone, for it. You’ve all grown, so much, and I just… just thank you. Thank you for meaning it, when you said you would work harder, listen more, be better. Thank you for doing it, for showing it, for giving me, for giving each other, the room to grow. The support that was necessary, for that growth to happen.” He pauses, taking in a deep breath, feeling everyone’s eyes on him.

He realizes suddenly he’d never gotten a proper name reveal before. Before, when they all chose names, he just picked the easiest one to remember, he hadn’t seen a point, to personalizing it. And Patton had called him Logan in front of Thomas, thus accidentally stealing that moment from him, that choice, to share it or not. He’s never had to worry, about a reaction, about the weight of it, about the consequences. Then Janus squeezes his hand, and he exhales, looking up at each of them for a long moment, seeing the question, the hesitation, the dawning understanding where this is going, in Virgil’s eyes.

“So I think… I think it’s time we start over, properly. No more hiding. No more secrets. No more… titles. My name… my name is Cygnus Ambition Sanders.” He’s barely finished the sentence, when Patton is barreling into him once again, wrapping him in a tight hug, tears falling though he’s grinning hugely as he pulls away, eyes shining behind his glasses.

“Thank you. Cygnus, thank you.” Patton says softly, practically bouncing in excitement, the air radiating with his joy and delight and heart stopping love.

“It suits you, teach.” Virgil says simply, though he wears one of his rare, open, lopsided grins, eyes warm and soft as he looks at him, somehow warming his heart more, because he knows Virgil understands, what it means, how much it means, that he’s shared his name. Virgil has been there, in much the same position he himself is now in, and he relaxes slightly at his approval.

“Cygnus.” Roman murmurs, seemingly a bit dazed by the revelation, though the name sounds like music on his lips, making Cygnus’s ears burn red, as Roman sweeps him up, spinning and dipping him, a mirror of Remus this morning, god was it only this morning? And he remembers once more just how similar the twins are, though they’re both loathe to admit it. He laughs as Roman sets him upright once more, pressing close in a moment long hug, steady and firm and grounding. “thank you, Cygnus. You’re so brave, and we’re so, so lucky, to have you with us.” He murmurs, before stepping away. “See Remus! That’s how you do a dip!” He yells at his brother, who’s grinning ear to ear, laughing.

“But it’s so much more fun to drop them!” Still, Remus sweeps him into a hug as well before skipping off, trying to steal frosting off the cake, if Virgil’s indignant screech and subsequent pounding of footsteps chasing is anything to go by.

Janus pulls him close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head before leaning forwards until their foreheads touch, resting against each other, his hand stroking back a stray piece of hair, lingering against his cheek in a pleasant warmth.

“Proud of you, lovely. You’ve done so well, Cygnus, you really have.” He smiles, not pulling away.

“You know this doesn’t change anything, correct? I’m not moving back. I’m not leaving you and Remus. I will never.” He murmurs back, a promise, ringing with truth, and he feels some of the tension washing out of Janus.

“Of course. Now, let’s cut into that cake before Remus decides to shove the entire thing into his gaping maw.” He laughs, stepping back, letting Janus lead them back into the fray the party has become, smiling at the single candle atop the cake, Patton struggling with the lighter, before Virgil gently pries it away, lighting the candle in one go, despite muttering about it being a fire hazard and the whole house going up in flames, Janus wrangling the twins out of their chase to sing happy birthday, both of them trying to outdo each other with riffs, though they finally do actually finish the song together, harmonizing the last few lines.

Staring at the lit candle, at the joyful, expectant faces around him, Cygnus realizes he only has one single wish, as he blows out the candle.

That every day, could be this perfect.

Thu, 23 Jul 2020 12:22:57

…

He’s hazy.

Everything feels too slow, except his pulse is too fast, he can feel it fluttering in his chest, and he realizes with a sinking feeling that he knows, he knows this feeling, this is how he always feels afterwards, the sedatives still running through him, but he’s still numb enough he can’t feel whatever they’ve done, though that won’t last long, now, not if he’s getting awareness back.

It must have been bad, if they decided to knock him out completely, he had an incredible tolerance for pain at this point, they haven’t put him fully under in years.

He remembers the ship. Aliens. Patton, Logan, Virgil, Janus.

But if he’s like this…

He’d been right. He’d been right, it was all a lie.

They were probably moving him out of the nice alien simulation area back into the cell, the cold, empty, icy cell, and he lets out a pathetic whimper, because he’d thought, he’d thought, he’d thought…

But of course. Of course, it was a lie, a ruse, and he’d always been just stupid enough to fall for them.

But he doesn’t hear Roman, anywhere, doesn’t feel him nearby, which is good. It means they really meant it, so early on, when they promised Roman could stay.

“Remus. Can you hear me?” Janus’s voice, and he winces, wishing it was anyone else, because he’d actually started not only trusting Janus, but liking being around him, feeling safe around him, and he doesn’t want to hear the explanation from him.

“please. Just go.” He mumbles, voice rasping. His throat is dry and burning, acid in his throat, and he barely manages even that much. “S fine. I get it. Gotta hand it to ya, you’re all incredible actors.” He hears a sharp inhale, then the bed shifts, and he feels a hand against his head, stroking his hair. He pulls away, tears slipping down his face. “don’t. if you’re gonna take this away, don’t be so nice about it.”

“Oh, darling. No one’s taking anything away. No one’s going anywhere. Do you remember, what happened?”

He furrows his brow, managing to crack open his eyes, vision blurry as he looks up at Janus.

“O-outside. S-something…” It rushes back to him, and he jolts upright, vision clearing, though his head spins. “I’m sorry! I’m s-sorry…” He trails off, falling into Janus’s open arms, somewhat surprising the naga, but he recovers quickly, cradling his head tight against him with one hand, the other supporting his back, Janus tucking his head over Remus’s shoulder, shushing softly. “I d-didn’t mean to, I d-didn’t… I’m sorry-“

“for what, darling? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I h-hit you, I almost at-acked Logan, I d-didn’t know wh-ere I was, I-“

“Remus. You protected us. You protected me. No one is mad. No one is hurt. Everyone is safe. I promise.” He feels Remus shaking against him, feels a wet spot growing against his shirt, and he holds Remus a little tighter. “you’re not back there. You got drugged, by the assailants, whom ran off in the face of a terrifyingly pissed off human.” He hears a little gasp of laughter from Remus, and smiles, pushing back his hair. “If anyone should apologize, it’s me. I was supposed to keep you safe, and instead you got hurt for my sake. Thank you, Remus.” He whispers, a bit surprised Remus hasn’t pulled away, is clinging this tightly to him.

“Roman’s okay?”

“Worried out of his mind, but otherwise unscathed. We wanted to let you wake up on your own, without all of us hovering. Figured that would only scare you more.”

“Probably a good choice. I… it got so muddled, it… what was it?”

“I don’t remember the name. Sedatives strong enough it would have wiped any of the rest of us out for days, left us completely weak and defenseless. The local authorities have tracked them down, a small smugglers ring. Saw our group, thought we were easy targets, didn’t realize you two were humans, since they’re so rare out in the galaxies. They’re being dealt with appropriately and severely. Like we said, this planet is a frequent stop for refugees. The people here don’t take kindly to anyone threatening that.” Remus finally pulls back slightly, knees to his chest.

“Will we ever just… be safe? Every time I get used to a routine, something happens, something bad. Routines are safe. I know what to expect, I know what’s going to happen when, there’s no anticipation or fear, because I know. Even… even before this, I knew the routine, knew that if I was quiet and good, they’d leave Roman alone. Knew that one day would be mind tests, the next would be physical experimentation, the next would be pain resistence, the next would be chemicals, I could prepare for the pain and the crash and the fall. I… what happens? What happens if this happens again? If I can’t pull back the little that I did? If something sets me off and I snap and forget and hurt all of you? What if I kill-“ He breaks off with a poorly stifled sob, and Janus rests a hand on his knee.

“you won’t. You’re not a monster, Remus. You’re smart and brave and resilient. And you are part of our family now, you and Roman both. And we will fight for you, just as hard as you fought every day for Roman, just as hard as you fought those smugglers for me, we will fight for you, Remus. And we won’t ever, ever give up on you.” Then Remus is back in his arms, shaking with tears, and Janus finds it impossible to hold back his own. “I promise.”

…

He’s laying outside on the grass, just off the ramp that leads into the ship. The grass tickles his arms, his legs, the smell of it heady and sweet, and he closes his eyes, just breathing in a deep, huge breath.

The sun is just starting to set, though instead of fiery oranges and pinks, the sky here is turning a deep violet and electric pink. Kinda neat, even though it does pull at his heart. He opens his eyes with a low sigh, staring up at the slowly emerging stars, the unfamiliar constellations, planets, moons. How far are they, he wonders, from Earth? He supposes Logan would know, but he’s almost afraid to ask. He’s not sure he wants to know.

“Roman? You doing ok, kiddo?” Patton asks, sitting down on the ground near him, and he takes another deep breath in and out. “you’re crying.” Patton says, softer, and he rubs his eyes surprised as they come away wet. He hadn’t noticed.

“I… don’t know. Just… look at this, Patton. It’s so huge. And we’re just…just carried along by its tide. Just lost in the oceans of darkness. I keep looking, for the North Star. It’s the guiding light, on Earth, it doesn’t move, points steadily North. The bottom of the Big Dipper. Or was it the Little Dipper? No, it musta been big dipper, that’s the one the slaves would use, when they escaped the south, to lead them to freedom. They had songs and stories and legends. They looked up at the sky, and had hope, looking up, that beacon leading them onwards. I’ve never had a North Star. And I keep… I keep looking for one, Patton, but I can’t find it. There’s nothing familiar or same or… I don’t know… I don’t know!” He cries, resting an arm across his forehead. “there’s so much out there. And I never thought I would ever have the chance to see any of it. We were going to die, there. We both knew it. Knew sooner or later, either on purpose or on accident, they’d do something irreparable and one of us would die. And one of us dying was just the same as both of us. But we didn’t. In the endless, vast, hugeness, somehow, we didn’t. What are the chances, of that? What are the chances, of you finding us, instead of some other humans, of finding anything at all? What… did we do, to deserve to be found? What do we even do, now? How…” he breaks off, pressing his palms against his eyes for a long moment, before tugging his hands through his hair, finally tilting his head to look at Patton. “how do we go on, without any North Star?”

“Kiddo…” Patton exhales, reaching out his hand, leaving it palm up on the grass, an invitation, rewarded as, after a moment, Roman reaches out, placing a palm atop his, not pulling away as Patton slowly intertwines their fingers. “you didn’t have to do anything, to deserve to be found. Because you never deserved to be taken. You never, never, deserved to be hurt or terrorized in the ways that you were. You’re right, the chances of our efforts leading us to you, in the entire universe, are so, so, small. But we found you, we found you, Roman, it doesn’t matter how or why, it just matters that we did, because you and Remus deserve so much better, you deserve the universe, Roman, and I would give it to you, if I could, I would give you the cosmos. I know, it’s overwhelming, having freedoms, having choices, having the galaxies open to you, to do anything you want, I know it feels like there’s too much, and you’re drowning in choices you don’t know how to make, you don’t feel safe making, because every choice before this was a test, made for you, to hurt you. I know it’s scary. Especially after what happened today, it’s scary. But you have us, to lean on. To help you, to support you, to just… be there. And I need you to know, if you did… if someone did take you, again, if somehow something went wrong, we would never, never stop searching for you, we would never give up on finding you, until you were safe with us again. You’re part of our family, Ro. I would do anything for you. I love you.” He says softly, worrying he’s gone overboard, as he looks at Roman’s slightly stricken face.

Then Roman moves faster than his eyes can process, throwing his arms around his neck, sobbing quietly into his shoulder. His wings flutter in surprise, then he’s wrapping his arms around Roman, his wings, blocking out the rest of the world, cradling him in soft warmth and safety, radiating out peace and love and warmth as he rubs his back, shushing him gently. “It’s ok, baby. It’ll be ok. I’ve got you.” He murmurs, feeling Roman shaking against him.

“th-thank you, g-god, Pat, th-thank you, y-y-you’re so good, y-ou’re so… thank you.”

“Of course, kiddo. Of course. I love you, you’re so good, too, Roman, you just have to let yourself believe it, let yourself see it. I can’t wait to see it, Roman, to see you and Remus start to believe in yourselves again, it’s going to be so beautiful.”

They sit like that for a long time, until the stars come out, until the sun fully sets, until Patton almost thinks Roman must have fallen asleep, his breath coming in deep and steady, his heart a steady pace against his chest, Roman relaxed and melted against him, as he strokes his back, teases through his hair, he’s never seen Roman this calm, not even in sleep. So he’s surprised when Roman shifts, eyes peeking up at him, at the stars in the sky.

“I suppose we should head inside.” Patton keeps teasing through his hair, smiling softly as Roman leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut in pure bliss.

“We can stay out, if you want. It won’t get too cold out here, and I stay plenty warm, no matter the weather.” Roman nods, settling back against him, letting out a huge yawn, taking in a deep breath.

“M’kay. If you’re sure, Pat.” He murmurs, snuggling tighter against him. he chuckles, pulling his wings in tighter around the sleepy human.

“I am, baby.”

“Pat?”

“yes, sweetie?” He answers, tucking his hair back.

“love you.” He nearly cries, but manages to stifle it, not willing to risk waking Roman, who desperately needs the sleep, they both do, to heal properly. So he brushes a gentle kiss across his forehead, smile huge and eyes wet, as he watches Roman sleep soundly in his arms.

“I do too, kiddo. So, so much.”

…

#sanders sides #space au #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #older brother remus #protective remus #sympathetic roman #sympathetic remus #sympathetic patton #sympathetic janus #remus angst #roman angst #supportive janus #supportive patton #crying it out #angst and fluff

Wed, 22 Jul 2020 16:43:32

…

“Patton?” They both looked up at the sound of the door opening, Janus slipping inside, surveying the scene. Virgil was still curled against Patton, eyes red and hands a bit shaky, though he seemed alright otherwise.

“H-hi.“ Virgil managed, voice hoarse, though his sobs had died out hours ago.

“Virgil. How are you feeling, love?” Janus asked, voice warm with relief and concern.

“better. I think.” He mumbled, fidgeting with his hoodie strings, dark eyes barely visible from the depths of his hood. “which isn’t really saying much, considering anything is probably better than where I was.”

“Any progress is progress, darling. It doesn’t have to be a huge revelation, to be important. Sometimes, you hear something so often it becomes a fact of life in your head, regardless of the truth of the matter. Sometimes you just need to hear the opposite enough times from enough people to start believing in your own worth again.” Janus said, leaning in the doorway. Virgil huffed, looking away.

“you’re all so much… smarter, than me. No wonder I stayed with Him. I’m so… just… stupid.”

“You’re not, love. You’re not the only one, who died because of an unhealthy, abusive, relationship. You’re not the only one who loved someone who wasn’t good for you. If I seem smarter, it’s only because I’ve had longer to comes to terms with it. I’ve had the others, to help break down all of what was taught to me. There’s nothing stupid about it, Virgil. People like that… they know what they’re doing, when they manipulate you, and they’re damn good at it. It isn’t your fault, darling, and you aren’t stupid for it. You’re just… human.” Janus smiled wryly, and something about his words struck so close to home that Virgil almost burst into tears again, barely containing them with a deep breath and hard swallow.

“Do you wanna go properly meet Roman and Logan?” Patton asked softly, and Virgil seemed to shrink in on himself more.

“He’d add Remus to the group of people you need to ‘properly meet’, but you’ve met him at about his best.” Janus added dryly, half smirking in victory as Virgil let out a small, shaky laugh.

“ok. If… if you’re sure they don’t h-hate me. For h-hurting them. Hurting you.”

“They don’t, honey.” Patton reassured, kissing the top of his head, before helping him to his feet, Virgil a little wobbly, though he waved away Patton’s concern.

…

Roman was pacing the living room once more, unable to cease his motion or risk flying apart at the seams. He knew, it wasn’t Virgil’s fault, but that darkness, that power… it scared him.

And now Patton was alone with him, alone with the being that had very nearly sapped him dry. He was so conflicted. On the one hand, he felt sorry for Virgil, he had watched him, after all, they had, seen how he struggled with depression and anxiety, and on top of that an abusive relationship. He knew Virgil didn’t mean any harm, was extremely strong to have pulled back from the brink.

But the protective side of him was screaming that Patton was in danger, they were all in danger, as long as Virgil stuck around. At least Janus had left, a few minutes ago, to check on them.

“Roman. Would you please cease?” Logan asked, looking up from his book, frowning slightly at the noise of his pacing.

“How can you be so calm about this?” He asked, rounding on Logan, who merely raised a brow.

“Virgil has agreed to let Patton, at least, help him manage his issues, and Janus has personal experience recovering from the kind of trauma Virgil has endured. I am confident that we will not have another issue. Why are you still panicking?” Logan’s tone made him want to scream, so frustratingly even, and he threw up his hands.

“Why wouldn’t I be? He nearly destroyed us, Logan, and he wasn’t even trying! We both know he’s prone to fits of panic! What if during one of them he snaps, and hurts all of us? What if he loses control? It wasn’t even fully formed, and it nearly-“

“Roman-“

“And he wasn’t even trying, Logan! What happens if he decides to use it? He has almost as much power as Remus, what if he decides he wants the place to himself, what if he decides he’s tired of us, what if he decides to hurt you, or Patton, or Janus? He could end us, Logan, and I refuse to let that happen. I won’t sit idly by and let him tear all of this apart. We have to… to do something! Something to make sure he can’t!”

“Roman.” Janus’s voice, sharp and cold as ice, and it cut him to his very core. His eyes widened and he had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what he would find when he turned around. He desperately met Logan’s eyes, who shook his head, disapproval written across his face. Slowly, he turned, taking it in one at a time.

Janus, face cold and eerily impassive, eyes burning a hole through him, with how hard and sharp his gaze was. Patton, mouth open in a silent O, turning to Virgil, who was squeezing his hand as if his afterlife depended on it.

And Virgil. Virgil was shaking like a leaf, face pale and eyes wide, starting to fizzle into darkness at the edges of his being.

“Virgil I-“ He took a step forwards, eyes wide and pleading, trying to meet Virgil’s. “I didn’t mean- I’m sorry- That’s not-“ Virgil shook his head, stumbling back a step for his one forwards, arms wrapping around his middle.

“it’s fine. It’s… I g-get it, I…”

“Virgil. Please. It is alright. He was just worried.” Virgil laughed at Logan’s words, a harsh, gasping thing, that shook his thin frame harder.

“Right. Worried. Ab-out me. H-hurting you. All of y-you. And you know what? He’s right! I c-can’t control myself, I p-anic, I-“

“Darling.” He looked up at Janus, who was reaching out a beseeching hand, asking him, begging him, with his eyes to take it.

The moment seemed suspended in time.

Logan was watching him carefully, calculating odds in his head, he could see it. Roman was struggling for words, trying to find something to say, stance defensive. Patton was looking closely at him, eyes echoing Janus’s sentiment, warm and soft and kind. Janus was almost desperate, almost… afraid.

He could see it. He could see it in each of their eyes. No matter what they said, no matter how much they wanted to help him, wanted to trust him, each of them were afraid of him. Afraid of what he could do. Afraid of what he would do. That’s the only reason Patton and Janus were reaching out, the only reason Roman had stepped between him and the wraith, the only reason Logan had gathered the others to come help, the only reason Remus had let them all in.

Fear.

He was all too acquainted with fear. And for the first time, he wondered, what exactly that fear would lead them to do to him, if he lost control once more. He had the suddenly sinking feeling that he knew, that Roman, at least, wouldn’t hesitate, and Logan wouldn’t be far behind. They would do what they had to, to keep their family safe, and if it destroyed him, then that was the cost. He found he couldn’t blame them. Not when Patton and Janus were so… good.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. Then he was gone.

…

“No!” Janus cried out, lunging forwards, but he wasn’t fast enough, his hand closed on empty air, and he spun, punching the wall with a curse, head hanging low as he tried to fight back the upwelling of emotions, the desperate crushing defeat filling his chest. “dammit.” He whispered, spinning at a hand on his shoulder.

“Dammit, Roman! He was listening, he was understanding, he was letting us in, and who are you, who are you to make him more afraid of himself than he already was? You think he doesn’t know, what he’s capable of? You think he doesn’t know what’s at stake? And you… You!” He growled, stalking forwards, not sure what he was moving towards, perhaps punching Roman in the face, but Remus caught his arm before he got there, and he hissed at him, trying to pull out of his grip.

“Janny. Don’t. It won’t fix anything. It’s not what you want.” He nearly pulls away, snarling, surprised as he finds himself folding against Remus instead, angry tears slipping down his face.

“we had him. we were so close, we had him.” He whispered, voice hoarse and drawn, as he felt Remus hug him tight.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean… God, I’m sorry.” Roman, voice cracking, looking helplessly between Patton and Logan, shame and self loathing welling in his chest.

“I know. I know, kiddo. I know you’re just worried about us, and I understand. But… but you have to give him a chance. We almost had a chance.” Patton whispers the last sentence, his own tears slipping down his face. He had a feeling Virgil wouldn’t be so easy to find this time, that he’d hide away well and truly.

But at least they’d gotten through to him. At least he was thinking on it, on his relationship being unhealthy, at least he’d gotten that far. He hoped it was enough.

…

Mon, 20 Jul 2020 21:49:03

Inspired by This Workby@fangirltothefullest because it was so beautiful and the expressions were so great I had to do something for it.

Logan gets caught by the Dragon Witch. Roman comes to his rescue.

…

To be honest, Logan couldn’t quite remember how they’d gotten into this situation. At the moment, he couldn’t remember much of anything. His head was in a different place, numb and scrambled, and at some level he knew this was all very illogical, and if he could just think clearly, just for a moment, he would be able to break out of this nonsense fantasy.

A spike of numbing pain, as more roots coiled up his legs, wrapping around his chest and up his neck, dislodging his glasses, which caught on a branch lower down. He hated this. Hated not being able to see through the fallacies of the situation, he hated being so helpless, he hated that despite his heart telling him Roman would come for him, his mind was telling him that he wasn’t worth the trouble, that the risk in rescuing him wasn’t countered by any kind of reward.

Because surely, if Roman was coming for him, he would already have been here by now. It felt like hours, had passed. He didn’t know the last time he was able to take a breath unhindered by twisting vines and rough bark squeezing his chest, the last time he could move his arms freely, think clearly, everything was so muddled and all he could do was stupidly, foolishly pray that Roman would come for him.

“Aw, what’s the matter, little logic? Afraid your prince in shining armor won’t show?” He winced at the sweetly simpering voice, the harsh tug of his hair, followed by a sharply nailed caress of his face, that left red lined scratches across his cheek. He wanted to glare at her, to shoot back of course he was coming, and once he got here, he was going to rip her to shreds. But he couldn’t find the words.

So instead, he simply looked away, eyes on the ground, refusing to meet her piercing silver eyed stare. She laughed, a far too bright and bubbly sound, that sent shivers down his spine, because it sounded so much like Patton’s, but so much colder. A vine climbed up the branches, wrapping around his neck, too tight to be comfortable, making it harder to breath, harder still to speak. And once again, he was so sick of his words being taken. Of being left voiceless, and he hated himself even more for his weakness as he felt tears slip from his eyes, dark spots forming as they landed on the dry dirt below him. He was too numb to even pull away as she tsked, wiping away his tears, her dragon tail wrapped around the base of the tree, wings casting a shadow as she loomed over him possessively.

“Logan!” The voice was like a shockwave through his system, a brief wash of warmth that brought a flicker of clarity through the clawing despair, and for a brief moment, he managed to raise his head, to meet Roman’s eyes, before he couldn’t hold it up anymore, and it fell back against his chest. “Unhand him, you fiend! You will release Logan THIS INSTANT!” Roman roared, a fiery rage in his voice that Logan had never heard before, tinted by a dark undertone of fear. She laughed darkly, ruffling his hair as she turned, sharp teeth grinning at Roman.

“Now, now, little prince. You are in no position to make demands. You will give me what I want, or I will let the curse run its course. Your little boyfriend will make a very pretty tree, don’t you think? Cherry blossom, maybe, or perhaps lilac.” He gasped, a strange, aching pain gathering in his chest. He coughed violently, feeling blood on his lips, spitting petals out of his mouth. He could feel the gaps in the branches woven around his body closing up, squeezing tighter. No, not tighter. Assimilating him. Bark was growing over his legs, encasing them, and he let out a strangled whimper as the vine around his neck tightened, forcing his head up, forcing his gaze to meet Roman’s.

“Stop! I’ll do… I’ll do whatever you want, just stop.” Roman uttered, defeat in his voice as his shoulders slumped, his grip on his katana going from white knuckled to loose as he lowered it, embedding it into the ground and backing away. He winced as the dragon witch sauntered forwards, pulling the sword out of the ground, balancing it on the palms of her hands appraisingly.

“Such a pretty little thing. How many times, have you bested me with this weapon, I wonder?” Roman flinched as she snapped it in two, feeling as if a part of himself had broken with it. But nothing was as important as Logan, as getting Logan out of here in one piece.

As it was, he looked on the edge of passing out. His face was pale, the red of his lips standing out, the speckles of blood against them vibrant crimson. His eyes were dark and deadened, pain and fear clouding them, and he wanted nothing more than to pull him close and reassure him that everything would be fine.

“What do you want?” He bit out, anger tempered by worry and fear, as Logan struggled to breath.

“What do I want? You made me, little prince. Surely you should know already my purpose. I want to make you suffer.” She grinned, eyes flashing silver, and he raced forwards, uncaring of her laughter as she vanished, focused instead on Logan’s strangled scream.

He could feel it. He could feel his skin turning to rough bark, could feel roots wrapping around his feet, not growing up from the ground, but growing through him, tangling around his arteries and veins, clogging his bloodstream and blooming around his airway. He coughed, choking, spitting up more blood and petals, feeling it infecting his lungs, wrapping around his heart and constricting, the world spinning and blurred.

“LOGAN!” He managed to look up, to look at Roman, though he was just a blur of white and red. “Logan, hold on, I’m going to fix this, starlight, I’m getting you out.” Roman was scrabbling at the bark, trying to claw him out, but it was too late for that, Logan knew. It was inside him, it was in his blood, it was becoming a part of him, and already he was fading, shaking, he heard Roman’s sharp inhale as the bark climbed his neck, the spaces between the branches nearly all closed up, only his face still visible through the tree he was becoming.

“r-roman…” He managed, voice weak and shaking. Instantly, Roman’s hands were on his face, cupping his cheeks, stroking gentle circles against his skin.

“I’m here, starlight.”

“sorry… I…m sorry.”

“Shh, no, my love, it’s not your fault. You’re perfect, sweet pea. You’re going to be ok.” Roman murmured against his face, forehead pressing against his, until he felt the gap getting smaller, forcing Roman back. He felt the numbness creep across his face, and he took in one last shaking breath, before it covered him completely, before darkness encased him, before all light and noise and sound from the outside world was cut off.

He could hear his pulse slowing in his ears. He could feel his breath wheezing and stuttering. His mind was hazing over, his usually always turning thoughts were scattered and half formed as he felt himself melding into the branches twisted around him, felt his being becoming absorbed, one, with the tree around him, and he couldn’t even cry anymore, he was so far gone.

Distantly, he heard echoing thumps, screams, Roman no doubt beating at the tree, trying to reach him. He wished he could still see him, wished he could give him one last kiss, tell him it was alright, it wasn’t his fault, he wanted to say goodbye properly, but there was nothing for it, now. He couldn’t fight it anymore. His eyes were forced shut by the bark, glazed over with it, and he was dizzy, as the last air escaped his lungs, the tree melding into his arms, his legs, his body, until there was no separating him from the branches.

…

No.

Nononono

She’d gone too far, this time, surely she was bluffing, surely the curse would reverse itself any second, surely Logan wouldn’t… couldn’t be…

Gone.

He fell to his knees, crumpled against the dirt ground, hands curled into his hair as he howled, keening, screamed, because this hurt, this hurt more than any mere wound, this hurt more than being rent in two, this hurt a thousand times more than any other pain he had ever experienced.

It was his fault. He had unwittingly led Logan into danger, let him get snatched from right under his nose, he’d arrived too late to save him, and now he was gone.

His starlight, his moon, his galaxy, his swirling cosmos, his Logan.

He felt his fury rise, morphing his grief and pain into white hot rage, into sparking ire and an almost feral determination as he thought of Logan’s brilliant eyes, always glowing with new information, dazzling whenever anyone deigned to listen to him, debating theater and lyrics and poetry with him, they sparkled like the night sky. He remembered nights laying in the grass of the imagination, Logan carefully guiding his hand, placing the stars one by one to match Logan’s descriptions of constellations, to make it as accurate as possible, fascinated as Logan regaled him with every legend, every meaning, behind each one. He remembered Logan coming to his room, gently divorcing him from his work, ignoring his pleading for one last page, one last line, one last word, carding a hand through his hair as they curled together in bed, Logan’s soothing voice easing his mind to a standstill, calming the swirling, tenuous thoughts that clouded it, until he drifted off to sleep. He remembered going to Logan’s room and doing the same, ignoring his pleading of needing to adjust the schedule, to plot out Thomas’s day, to figure out when his meetings and appointments should be, easing the pen out of his hand, softly bringing it to his lips instead, murmuring sweet things to him until he was blushing and trying to argue against their validity, until Roman kissed him, promised him he meant every word, that he loved him, to the moon and back. Then Logan would start speaking about how far that actually was, and Roman would have him put it into more and more ridiculous units, how many busses, how many trains, how many bikes, how many pigeons, until Logan’s own mind had slowed from the focus of calculating, and they were both laughing.

Logan was his light, his world, his sun, his stars. He. Would. Not. Lose. Him.

He grabbed the snapped shards of his katana, pressing the broken pieces together, fusing them back into one with a blinding flash of golden light. He forced himself to his feet, feeling all the surging power of Thomas’s mind behind him, all the shaking, wild, untamable force of Creativity flowing through him, and shoved it all into a single thought, a single command, a single singing desire, a single, unchangeable truth, as he raised his sword, leaping into the air, aiming straight for the bark of the tree.

He was not too late. If cut open, it would free Logan. Logan would be alive.

He screamed, the sword coming down, cutting through the bark like butter, glowing with power, his eyes sparking with crimson sparks, his war cry echoing through the imagination, as he cleaved the tree in two.

It took a moment, for the dust to clear. For his senses to return to normal. He was shaking like a leaf, exhausted and drained, shaky with adrenaline, but he rushed forwards, unable to hear anything but the pounding of his own heart, as his gaze frantically swept the scene.

It was a few long moments before he placed Logan. He was held upright in place, against the inside of the tree, blending in perfectly with it. Bark covered his entire body, pinning him in place, consuming him completely. He gasped, rushing to his side, hesitantly careful as he reached out, relieved slightly as the bark easily brushed off of Logan’s face, the inch thick coating having lost all it’s life and magic when he struck it with his sword, crumbling to dust at the slightest touch.

Quickly, he tore the rest of the bark off of Logan, catching him as he fell forwards, the last of the bark keeping him upright crumbling away. He carefully brushed away the dusty remains from Logan’s face, his eyes, praying it wasn’t coating his insides as well. He couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. He thought he could feel a weak pulse against his chest, but he wasn’t sure, and he gasped out a sob, cradling Logan tighter.

“Logan. Logan, please, please, wake up, please, sweet pea, please…” He whispered, tears tracking down his face at how still his love was, how lifeless he seemed, limp body cradled in his arms. He held his breath as Logan let out a hoarse, rasping cough, eyes barely fluttering open for a moment, before slipping shut again.

“R-ro…” Logan managed, though it was clear the effort cost him, sending him into another fit of hacking coughs. Roman pressed their foreheads together, gently adjusting him in his arms so he was a little more upright, hoping that would help.

“I’ve got you, starlight. I’ve got you. I’m taking you home, okay? Don’t worry about a thing, you just get some rest for me. I’ve got you.” He pressed a soft, gentle kiss against Logan’s lips, smiling briefly as Logan leaned into the touch, before falling completely limp once more, unconscious.

He would come back and rain down hell on the dragon witch later, possibly destroy her once and for all for this, but for now, his entire focus was on Logan, as he summoned the exit to the imagination, crossing over quickly to his room, locking the portal tightly behind him.

…

He couldn’t breathe.

It felt like his chest was too tight, like there wasn’t enough space in his lungs to inhale and exhale, and it hurt, it terribly, awfully, hurt.

He was coughing, hacking, really, a deep chested, body wracking cough, and he heaved as he felt someone support him into a sitting position, shaking from the force of the air being expelled from him, finally feeling something dislodge, spitting a mouthful of petals and wet plant innards into the bucket held before him, collapsing back against the warmth cradling him close, recognizing that scent of aspen and ink anywhere.

“roman…” He wheezed, throat raw and sore, that simple word almost sending him into another round of hacking. He could taste copper in his throat, could feel it against his lips, and he shivered, realizing he was lightly feverish, folding tighter against Roman’s embrace as he encircled him in his arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry, starlight. I never, never would have brought you with if I thought it would put you in danger, I won’t ever forgive myself for this, I swear, I swear nothing will ever hurt you, not ever again.” Roman murmured, voice shaking as he pressed his lips against Logan’s forehead. When he finally pulled back, Logan’s soft, exhausted eyes were looking up at him, hazed with pain and a breaking, tentative relief.

“you came. I thought you weren’t coming. I thought… I thought I’m not worth the trouble. Why would anyone risk themselves for me, why would anyone… why would you…”

“Logan, oh my Logan, my love. I will always find you. I would search for eons, I would travel to the ends of the earth, if that’s what it took to find you. I would never stop searching, not even the end of time would stop me, until I had you safely back in my arms. I love you, starlight. I love you, so incredibly much, sweet pea. I will always come for you.” He replied softly, tilting Logan’s chin up, tenderly meeting his lips for a long, endless moment.

“I thought I lost you, Logan. You nearly… and it’s all my fault. You’re hurt, and sick, and it’s all my fault.” His voice broke, tears slipping down his face as he gently cupped Logan’s cheek, rubbing softly over the bandaged scratches. “I was so scared. I was terrified, Logan, I’ve never been more afraid in my life. I would have done anything, anything she asked of me. I would have taken your place in a heartbeat, starlight, I would have let her have my crown, have my kingdom, have my life, I would have let her torture me, curse me, use me, however she pleased, as long as she let you go. I would give anything, darling dearest. I would give everything. Whatever little voice in your head that tells you otherwise is lying, and if you don’t believe me, Janus will confirm it for you.

You’re brilliant, starlight, brilliant and clever and you amaze me, every day, with how smart you are, how much you know about the world, the universe, your smile lights up the world, your laugh still makes my heart skip a beat, you are such a beautiful, kind, loving, person, Logan, and I love you. I. Love. You.” He uttered with complete conviction, lost in Logan’s beautiful eyes, surprised as Logan wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his face against his chest, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Roman didn’t say anything, simply tucked his head over Logan’s shoulder, holding him close, rubbing his back gently, only drawing back when Logan began hacking again, concern flaring at the deep, bone shaking sound, Logan upheaving more plant matter.

“thank you.” Logan whispered, curled against his chest, eyes closed, trembling, small coughs still escaping his lips every few seconds. “thank you for loving me. For b-being so patient. I know I’m not… easy… to manage. But you’re so good, to me, Roman. I haven’t earned it.” Roman brushed a hand through Logan’s hair, pressing a kiss to his head.

“you don’t have to earn my love, starlight. You have it always, freely given. Just being who you are is more than enough, Logan. There’s nothing you could do, that would make me stop loving you with all my heart. You’re not a chore for me to manage, you’re my boyfriend, and there’s nothing I would rather do, than spend time with you, be with you, argue with you, make up with you. I love you.” He pressed soft kisses to Logan’s eyelids, the tip of his nose, finally brushing his lips, each action melting Logan further into his arms, nuzzling against his chest.

“I think I may pass out once more.” Logan mumbled, feeling Roman laugh softly at his slurred confession.

“You need the rest, darling dearest. It’s alright. The effects of a curse are exhausting, especially one like that. It should fully wear off within the day, Logan, and I’ll be right here, sweet pea. I’ve got you.”

“you always do. Love you, Ro.” He managed, through a deep yawn, slipping back into darkness as he felt Roman’s arms hold him closer, knowing with absolute certainty that he was safe.

#sanders sides #dragon witch #logan sanders #roman sanders #logince #logan x roman #logan angst #roman angst #hurtcomfort #hurt logan #protective roman #happy ending #sympathetic roman #sympathetic logan #fairy tale curse #angst for days #soft boys