#they all just wanna be happy
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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.
