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Reblog this to ease the back pain of the person you reblogged it from

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Roman: Hey Janus, come over here-

*Janus walks over*

Roman: *whispering* I’m going to steal all the cookies and blame it on you. Who’s gonna believe a liar?

Janus: Darling if you do, I will bite you. And believe me, you do not want to find out if I actually have venom in these fangs or not—

Roman:

Roman: Ok fine, do you want to steal cookies with me and blame it on my brother?

Janus: Now you’re speaking my language—

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Roman: I CAN'T DO IT!

Virgil laughing: I CAN'T EITHER!

Roman: I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE

Logan: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US.

Roman:

Roman: I appreciate it

Roman: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH-

Patton: Roman -

Roman: YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE!

Janus: Roman we gotta-

Roman: YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT.

Roman: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?'

Roman motioning to Remus: NOT FUCKING THIS

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Hits another ship with the Gomez and Morticia beam

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Roman: Queen never cry.

Roman: But queen is kind of at his limit.

Logan:

Logan: What in the world are you talking about.

Roman: Just comfort me, braincell.

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Some Roman doodles ft Virgil for the soul 😌

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Found an interesting sweater and I think Remus would give it to Patton as a gag gift, telling him sluttiest means bestest. Now poor Patton's confused because everyone else is laughing at him.

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Roman's Thanksgiving Dessert

Original incorrect quote. Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it!

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Remus: Is there cake? I smell cake. Roman: I... just finished eating when you called. Remus: Then I must dig it out of your desecrated corpse!

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Janus: Look you morons, Logan put me in charge, and— where did the door handle go? *looks around* Seriously, where IS IT?

Virgil: Looks like you can’t HANDLE the situation—

Roman: NICE

Virgil: Thank you

Janus: Both of you, get out!

Virgil: How?

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Mmm angsty goodness! Love Roman angst and the use of the original little mermaid story!

Silent Treatment

pairings: platonic DLAMPR, maybe roceit if you squint

summary: Roman comes to the realization that he is to blame for all of the problems everyone has had to deal with, and decides to remove the issue entirely. What he sees as a solution, however, is something closer to a sacrifice. A sacrifice that none of the other sides asked for or want from him.

tags/warnings: angst, so much angst, hurt/comfort, Roman doesn't talk for the majority of the fic, our boy is hurting, sympathetic dark sides, misunderstandings

word count: 10115

Seeing is believing.

Sometimes, most of the time, the realest thing in the world is what’s right in front of you. Be it a word, an image, an event.

An opinion.

Everyone’s opinion.

It was all Roman saw these days, any time he felt brave enough to go online and read the endless comments regarding him and the other sides. Most of them were positive, at least they were when they were about the others. How clever and funny and good and interesting they all were. How much everyone loved all of them.

Well, almost all of them.

No one was entirely perfect, so it’d only make sense that the different facets of someone would be just as flawed as well. Over the course of the series there were plenty of mistakes that had been made. Both the fans and the sides knew that very well.

They all knew that Roman made most of them.

In fact, lately it seemed that mistakes were all he was capable of making. Mistakes and insults and even more mistakes. Everything he did, everything he said, it only ever hurt people. He always said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, and everyone else suffered for it instead of him.

He shouldn’t have been the one left unscathed. He shouldn’t have been the one who got away with it consequence free. He didn’t deserve that.

He deserved this.

He deserved the sound of conversations trying to continue without his worthless input. He deserved the scowls he got from everyone when he still tried to add it. He deserved the others trying to exist without him ruining it for everyone.

He got off the hook, only to be left in the empty waters.

Now all he can do is watch as everyone tries to carry on after what he did to them.

The worst part of it all is that he has no way of helping. He can’t make it go away or feel better; if he ever tried, he’d only upset them further and make everything worse. He’ll hurt them, over and over again because it’s all he’s ever done. It’s the only thing he can do well anymore.

He does it so well that he doesn’t really even have to try, it just happens. He opens his mouth to connect or comfort, desperately trying to say something, anything, that would ease the burdens of his family. Instead, he only ever found new ways to hurt them.

He never meant any of it, honest. The teasing was never planned to torment, the jokes never intended as jabs. Roman would never try to hurt the people he cares about, he just…

He just doesn’t know what he’s doing.

He wishes he weren’t like this, always making the problem about himself or forcing the world to turn for him. He knew it was a part of his role, his job as the ego meant he had to keep the spotlight focused on himself. He’d only starve without it, but maybe that’s a better alternative when compared to seeing how the others are always left in the dark because of his own selfishness.

Maybe he deserves to starve.

Maybe he deserves to let them move on from him, from everything he’s done to them. He deserves the silence of their absence.

The silence…

His silence.

They deserve his silence.

It may be the only good thing he can do for them.

It’s like the old saying goes, right? “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

And just like that, Roman found his solution.

He got the idea when he started thinking about princes and princesses. Princes always do what’s right, even at a personal cost. In fairy tales, they always put others before themselves, risking their own lives to save the princess and never expecting any form of thanks.

Very rarely, however, had the prince had to actually sacrifice something to save anyone.

Roman wanted to give them that. A proper apology, one that didn’t require the use of words that only ever failed. He wanted to show them that he wanted to do better, he wanted to be better.

Even if that meant he would have to leave a part of himself behind.

It was surprisingly easy to do; he’d shape-shifted into Thomas' friends and a puppet before, and even cartoonishly stretched his arm across the living room on occasion. He could surely do something as simple as removing his voice. If a Disney villain could do it, so could he.

He decided to take a moment and sing to himself first, the last thing he would do before giving it up. It was funny; he had sang plenty of times in the past, but never alone. It was always a duet or collaboration which included the others, but this is really the first time ever he sang by himself.

Or maybe even for himself.

His voice slowly started to fade, weakening with every verse at his own command, and he found himself comparing the sensation to when you turn off a light but the afterglow takes a second or two to burn out, like a delay. It was gone, but it took him a moment to process the last of the vibrations leaving his throat, until all he felt was the emptiness of its absence.

Then, before he even realized it, it just wasn’t there anymore.

He looked back at his greatest treasure, his reason for doing this, and he took the reminder from its spot and kept it secured to his chest, so he’d always be able to carry it with him if he ever needed it as a personal reminder.

For the first time in a very long time, Roman felt truly happy.

The others seemed relieved when he came downstairs the following morning in peaceful silence. He offered them all a light and easy smile before quietly plating himself a small serving of food and eating off to the side, existing only in his own space.

They didn’t need him polluting theirs.

“You alright Princey?” Virgil had cautiously asked.

Roman gave him another smile and a nod, because he truly was alright. He had slept well last night, a definite rarity but one he appreciated. He wasn’t hurt, not any more than usual at least, but overall he really was fine. He was more than fine, because now he had fixed it. Or he was starting to fix it. Either way, this was a good day for him. It was a new start.

Patton tried next. “You’re pretty quiet, kiddo. Did something happen?”

Of course something had happened. He made something happen for the better. He changed for the better. He finally realized the problem and he solved it.

He couldn’t say that, though. Instead he beamed at them with a reassuring light in his expression, voicelessly assuring them that they didn’t need to worry about him anymore.

The tension they all had been carrying would finally leave soon, now that he’s stopped causing it.

Roman carried on with his duties with a smile, pleased with how the others seemed to relax more and more as time went on. He watched from a distance, observing how they all carried on with themselves in a cautious ease that only warmed as the days went on. Smiles and laughter gradually returned, albeit slowly; life started to move forward without holding its breath for him to act up anymore. He made sure that he wouldn’t do that to them ever again.

Every change Roman saw only further proved his point.

They eventually stopped leaving space for him to butt in on their conversations, and he silently cheered at how quickly they had healed from him.

The fighting and insults finally came to an end, and Roman internally pat himself on the back for no longer instigating them.

He watched them recover from afar, drifting like a ghost on the outermost edge of their orbit, and marveled at the speed at which his solution had taken effect. They were calmer, kinder, and making space for each other in their lives.

And, if he was lucky, they’d even spare some for him.

He’d prepare to gather some snacks and disappear from the kitchen without ruining their meal, only to find a seat left open and waiting at the table for him. At first he thought it may have been an old habit left unlearned, but the plate of warm food placed before it made it clear that he was welcomed to exist with them again.

It was impossible for him to stop himself from smiling at the dinner table whenever that happened.

He nearly cried when Patton finally felt safe enough to hug him again. It had been a little over a week or two since Roman last sang, and he wasn’t sure how long it would take for his decision to have any major effects on anyone but he didn’t expect it to be so soon.

It was something small that made it happen, something so mundane that he could hardly even remember it. It was likely him doing a favor for Patton, one of several that he had been undertaking as penance, and it resulted in a gratitude-fueled embrace from him that left Roman reeling.

It had been so long since he’d been held like this, or even touched at all, and he couldn’t help but hug Patton back for a moment before sternly forcing his hands back to his sides. He didn’t deserve to take from this, not yet and likely not for a while. This was about Patton and the others, not him.

Not anymore, and never again.

Patton noticed the reaction, gently pulling away and asking him what was wrong. Roman didn’t answer, mostly because he couldn’t, opting instead to gently rest his forehead against Patton’s with a content sigh, merely basking in the moment while he was still granted it.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Patton said. “Whatever it is. I’ll listen, we all will.”

Roman gave him a smile and a nod, because of course they’d listen to him. More often than not it was because they didn’t have a choice in the matter. He’d open his big mouth and override even the most crucial conversations to demand they pay him more attention than he had any real right to. That was why he made sure they wouldn’t need to anymore. They weren’t forced to deal with him now, he wasn’t a problem to them.

Roman had never felt happier. Things were going so much smoother lately, and everyone had started to relax and return to themselves over the course of the last month. Logan was less frustrated now that Roman wasn’t there to agitate him, and Virgil wasn’t working overtime to bring Roman’s grand ambitions back to reality. Even Remus and Patton seemed happier now that he wasn’t making problems for them, but by far the largest improvement had come from Janus.

The insults had still lingered for a bit at first, the hostility an old haunt from Janus’ residual grudge, but Roman didn’t make it worse for him anymore. Janus would cut at Roman’s ego, and Roman would smile back and take it in stride as best as he could. It was only ever a fight if he fought back.

When Janus realized that the fight would never happen, he almost did a complete 360. Sorry, 180. He was more vocal towards the others about his opinions and warmer in a way that made it clear that he was finally dropping his guard. He would stay in the living room without quietly slinking away, much like how Virgil had done before he was accepted. He actually existed around Roman now, with no anger left over from either of them.

It was… good.

It did come with its costs, of course.

After all, that’s how sacrifices work. There’s always a personal loss when it comes to these sorts of things, something given for something gained. That was why he gave away something so important to begin with, to find his way back to something even more treasured than the gift of song.

It worked, that was what mattered. He didn’t care about the cost.

He didn’t care about how he couldn’t sing along to his favorite Disney songs anymore, because now he could watch the movies with his family in peace. He didn’t care that any opinions he had could only be shared in notes left for others to review and consider, because now he could be in a room while the others conversed without turning it into another argument. He didn’t care that sometimes his chest ached with the desire to sing, to sob, to scream, because when he sat with the others and they actually deigned to look at or even touch him, he knew he’d never get this back if he ruined it again. He didn’t care what he had lost, because he had traded it for a true rarity: a second chance.

And he was not going to take it for granted.

He held his prize close to him every night, feeling its warmth beneath his fingers, and he was eternally grateful for everything his sacrifice had returned to him.

Movie nights were his favorite thing to do with everyone. They always were, but now he didn’t have that pang in his chest every time he felt his unwanted interruptions ruining the movie for the others. No one likes when people talk over the movie, Roman ought to have learned that sooner.

Then again, there’s a reason Logan called him dumb all the time.

He hadn’t done that at all lately, now that Roman thought about it, and he was sure it was because he had finally learned his lesson. He can’t say the wrong answer if he doesn’t say anything at all.

He can’t protest and complain when he has no voice to raise.

He can’t force them to watch what he wants if he doesn’t leave a vote.

The bowl was passed to him--no longer Janus’ hat--and he hesitated for only a moment, his vote held tightly in his hand. Normally he’d write his movie of choice in big, attention-grabbing letters and make sure to place it at the very top so it would be the first vote grabbed when he couldn’t rig it, but now that he was making up for himself he instead quietly slipped a small note at the bottom of the stack, one that only read “undecided”, so that even if it was picked, Roman still wouldn’t be dictating their choice. They didn’t need him taking control of their fun like that, even if the votes weren’t being rigged anymore.

He tucked his actual vote under his sleeve before anyone could notice it.

Roman prepared to take his seat, which nowadays meant sitting wherever there was room after everyone else was already seated, even if that ended up with him on the floor sometimes.

It looked like that would happen again tonight, with everyone taking up plenty of space on the couch. Remus was on the far end, with Janus sitting between him and Logan, and Patton on the other side of the latter. On the other end of the couch lay Virgil, lazily sprawled out like a cat.

There was not enough room for Roman.

He could see if Virgil was willing to spare him some room, but that would just be selfish. Virgil had every right to take up as much space as he wants. He deserved it, after all. Roman lost that privilege long ago, and he knows he hasn’t earned it back yet.

Looks like it’s gonna be the floor again tonight.

“Y’know, I could really use a blanket,” Virgil mumbled, not looking up from his phone but most definitely addressing Roman.

Roman nodded and summoned a weighted blanket with a checkered purple and black pattern, gingerly handing it to him with a smile.

Virgil eyed it warily. “Oh… thanks, I guess.”

“I think that was a bit too subtle, Virgil,” Logan offered. “If you want Roman to cuddle, you could just ask him.”

Virgil flushed beet red before looking away, and Roman felt his own face grow warmer.

“Well, I mean, you don’t have to, Princey, I was just saying.”

Roman looked around at the others, gauging their reactions. Was this okay? Would he really be allowed to be so close to one of the others already?

Remus had a teasing expression on his face, as expected, while Logan and Janus merely eyed him with intrigue, likely just as unsure of what to do as Roman was.

“It’s alright, Roman. You can if you want to,” Patton added, looking as soft and encouraging as a dad coaxing his kid into taking his first steps.

“I just thought it’d be nice,” Virgil muttered, already sitting back up.

Well, it they were fine with it, maybe he could allow himself to at least be near them. Besides, technically he wasn’t the one who suggested it, so it’s not like he would be out of line here, right?

Before Roman could think twice about it, he sat down between Virgil and Patton while determinedly trying to avoid looking at either of them.

He felt a cool hand grab him and slowly pull him close until he was leaning against someone’s tense shoulder, and he didn’t need to look up to know that it was Virgil.

Virgil was cuddling him.

“This okay?” he asked.

Roman breathlessly nodded, and before he knew what was happening Patton had helped to maneuver him until he was lying down across the two of them, with his head in Virgil’s lap and his legs stretched over Patton’s.

This is… he was…

“You ready to watch the movie now, kiddo?” Patton murmured, his voice somehow both thunderously loud and miles away at the same time.

Roman managed to focus enough to nod again, only to realize that he had stopped breathing. He took a deep breath and tried to force his body to relax, hoping he could dissipate at least some of his tension before either of them noticed it. If they did, they’d kick him off the couch for sure.

He’s already taking too much just lying here with them…

Logan announced the winning vote to no objections, and Roman tried his best to simply enjoy himself as the movie started without thinking of the softness and warmth and sheer happiness he felt from the other sides.

It was so warm, so warm and soft and oh how he missed having this in his life. How he missed when it used to be willingly given to him. It had been so long since he dared to want anything like this, and now it was finally coming back. They were letting him take up their own space, even more than that, they were voluntarily offering it to him, insisting that he be physically near them again. He was touching them, essentially snuggling up to them like it was normal.

Like it was wanted.

But it couldn’t be wanted, it just couldn’t. Who would want cumbersome limbs with sharp elbows and blunt knees digging into every soft spot and distracting from the movie? Who would want this massively dead weight sagging down and sprawling out over everything it has no right to touch?

Who would want to be around Roman?

The sensation of fingers slowly running through his scalp almost pulled a gasp from him.

“You’re thinking too much,” Virgil playfully chided.

That was what did it.

The all-too-familiar burning of tears was starting to surface, and Roman knew they’d be forcing themselves out in seconds. He was going to cry; he was going to cry in front of everyone because it was too much but it really wasn’t and it was no big deal but it was and they’d see and—

“Roman, what’s wrong? You’re shaking, kiddo.”

Roman didn’t try to think of a response for Patton’s question, far too focused on scrambling out of the couch and away from everyone who would see that he still wasn’t fixed. He still wanted so badly it hurt and he wasn’t supposed to do that anymore but he was and now they’ll know he’s still being a problem but he just can’t help it, it was just so much and, and…

Someone was calling after him, but he was already gone. Gone and back in his room where he could get himself under control before anything else happened.

Before anything else went wrong.

Why did he do that? Why did he just up and flee in the middle of the movie when they were still talking to him? Why didn’t he just sit on the floor instead? Why did he show up at all, he should have known he’d ruin it if he did. He should have just been better at not crying about something as simple as a stupid movie night, he should have politely declined the chance to cuddle with them no matter how badly he missed it, he should have-

He should have known this would happen.

He still wants, after all.

He doesn’t have to talk to want, and him wanting things has always been the real problem, hasn’t it? He wanted the callback, he wanted to force love that simply wouldn’t happen, he wanted his impossible ideals to come true at any cost.

He wanted his family back.

And now he’s ruined it all over again.

When the tears finally fell, not a single sound followed them, and Roman distantly felt grateful that the others wouldn’t have to hear this from him either.

They never should have had to deal with any of it in the first place.

*******

The movie was still playing, but no one was paying it any attention. All eyes were instead focused on the spot Roman had just been in before running from them in a frightened fit.

He had been silent and skittish like this for almost a month now, and it was enough to worry everyone, though not a single one of them had any ideas of what happened or what to do.

Janus was the first of them to speak.

“…Well, that went well,” he groaned before taking another sip of his wine.

“Now’s not the time for jokes, Jan.”

“Who said I was joking? He finally started cozying up for movie nights again, even if it took a little convincing, so I’d say we got farther today than we have all week.”

“True, but we very well may have undone that progress just as quickly.” Logan added, anxiously adjusting his already straightened tie. “You saw how he left just now. Even I can tell he was upset.”

“It’s because you were all pushing too hard,” Remus scoffed. “He’s been walking on eggshells for like a whole month and you really think he’ll just start chilling out now just because you practically forced an unplanned cuddle pile on him? Get real.”

“I was trying to calm him down,” Virgil hissed lowly in response. “He usually likes being held when he’s upset and I could tell something was bothering him so I was just-“

“Doing too much too quickly,” Janus interrupted with a huff. “You could tell he was already overwhelmed badly enough as it is, and you more than anyone should know that too much comfort at the wrong time can only make those feelings worse.”

“Yeah, but…” Virgil let out a quiet sigh of his own, tucking his knees to his chest and folding in on himself now that Roman’s head wasn’t in his lap. “I just didn’t want him feeling bad anymore.”

Patton offered him an encouraging smile. “None of us do, Virgil, but for now all we can do is give him space and hope he’ll come to us in his own time.”

“We’ve been doing that for a month now, and nothing’s changed!” he yelled in frustration. “He’s still not talking to any of us and he’s just been completely shut down! You know something’s gotta be really wrong for him to be like this, and it’s not like he’s gonna tell us what it is on his own so we have to try something!”

“Try what?” Remus asked. “It’s pretty clear he doesn’t want to talk, ‘cuz if he did then he would have taken any of the opportunities we gave him.”

“I wanna help him out too, but I just feel like we’re crowding him like this,” Patton whimpered.

“It’s because we were all trying at once,” Janus replied. “Believe me, when you don’t want to talk about something, the last thing you want is everyone asking you about it all at the same time.”

“Oh, so you have any better ideas than what we’re trying?” Virgil snapped. “We’ve all been patient and waited for him to come to any of us and he still hasn’t, so what else can we do?”

Janus took a slow sip of wine before responding, his voice low and controlled. “Ask him directly.”

Logan furrowed his brow. “Didn’t you say that that would only make it worse?”

“It would if it were all of us ganging up on him, but if it were just one of us, one that he’d be willing to talk to, then maybe we’d be able to figure out what’s going on.”

“What’s going on is that he’s clearly not fine and for whatever reason he’s trying to pretend that he isn’t,” Virgil protested.

Janus narrowed his eyes. “Wrong.”

“What the hell do you mean ‘wrong’? He’s not talking to anyone. He can’t be fine if he’s not talking, no matter how many of those fake smiles he flashes at us.”

“They’re not fake.”

It was like the room had frozen entirely.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked.

Janus didn’t look up at him, gazing pensively at nothing. Time seemed to still in wait of his answer.

“I know when a smile is fake or forced,” he finally replied. “And Roman’s haven’t been. When you ask him if he’s alright and he nods his head ‘yes’, it’s not a lie. To him, he truly is perfectly alright. He’s actually happy. Most of the time, anyway. He’s not lying about that, I can tell.”

“But, he… that can’t… I mean, that just doesn’t make any sense,” Patton sputtered out. “He can’t be happy like this, it’s just not like him.”

“And when was the last time he’s actually been himself around any of us?”

Another round of silence fell as everyone tried and failed to find an answer.

Had it really been that long since Roman was okay?

“… I agree with your proposal, then.”

Janus finally looked up at Logan. “What proposal?”

“One of us should talk to him. Alone. Preferably someone he trusts or is comfortable around.”

Remus gave him a look. “Well, who the hell would that be?”

No hands were raised, no volunteers made, and everyone ached for Roman.

Even more so, they ached with the knowledge that among the five of them, none of them felt like they were people Roman trusted. Not anymore.

It was hard to not feel as though they had all failed him, each in their own ways. Some ignored, some belittled, some insulted. The methods were different, but the result was the same. They had all wounded Roman.

“…we did this, didn’t we?”

Patton’s voice, no more than a mere whisper, was almost deafening as it rang through the room. “To him, I mean. We all made him pull away like this.”

“We don’t know for sure why he’s changed, Patton,” Janus replied. “There could be any number of reasons why he’s shut himself off, but for now we can’t be sure of any of them.”

“You aren’t denying it, though,” Virgil muttered. “Not even you can lie about our impact in this.”

“It’s clear that we’ve all hurt him,” Logan quietly offered, “but we can’t determine the exact severity of our actions, much less compare them with each other’s.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing, though?” Remus asked, getting up from the couch and turning to face the others. “Aren’t we all just sitting here trying to figure out who hurt him least so they can talk to him and who hurt him most so they can apologize?”

The others were quiet, shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

“Fine, I’ll start.” Remus said with a sigh. “I beat him over the head with a morning star, I always suggested both to you and to Thomas that he’s the boring half of Creativity, usually with him around to hear me, I steal his stuff and weird him out all the time even when I know he’s sick of it, and I keep fucking up his ideas no matter how hard he’s worked on them.”

Remus finished counting the last of his offenses on his fingers, waving his hand in front of the others.

“So who’s next? I can count for you, if you think you’ll miss anything.”

Virgil let out a shaky exhale before picking up where Remus left off. “…I always discourage him about everything. And I treated him like shit before. I know I was just doing my job, but so was he. He didn’t need me making it harder.”

Logan was next. “I downplay his intelligence in order to feel more secure of my own. His role is an important one, no matter how much I try to pretend it isn’t, and yet I have only ever criticized and complained whenever he tries to add his input.”

“…I used him.”

Janus’ quiet admission sank over the room like a lead weight. “I manipulated him and betrayed his trust without caring how badly it would hurt him. I used his insecurities against him when I knew he was already vulnerable. If you’re asking who’s hurt him the most, I’d say to look no further.”

No one dared to argue, but…

“Maybe you should,” Patton muttered. Remus stared him down, both challenging and accusatory.

“I hurt him a whole lot. I know I have, even if I didn’t before. I, uh… I gave him an impossible expectation of what he needs to be, and then I made him feel guilty every time he failed to meet it. If all of you were the ones knocking him down, then I was the one who forced him back up every time. I was the one who made sure it hurt him when he kept falling.”

Remus gave him a nod. “At least you could admit to that now. If I remember, there was a time you would have insisted you were helping him the whole time.”

Patton only nodded in return, wrapping his arms around himself in some meager attempt at comfort. Logan gently placed a hand on his shoulder, silently offering some of his own.

“I never meant to hurt him, I swear.” He mumbled.

“We know you didn’t,” Logan replied. “and the blame does not fall on a single person here. We all had a hand in this, and we can all work to undo it.”

“Can we? Can this really be undone so easily?” Virgil asked, nervously chewing his thumb. “I mean, this is pretty severe. Roman being a little quieter than usual in one thing but this? This isn’t something that can just go away as quickly as it came.”

Janus interrupted with a huff. “It didn’t come quickly, though, did it? He was practically a hermit for weeks before he went silent. However long it took for this to happen, it’s going to take just as long to fix it if not even more. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth the effort.”

 “I’m not saying it isn’t, I’m just saying it won’t be easy.” Virgil gave him a glare. “What else isn’t easy is trying to understand why you care. When the hell did you decide you want to help him?”

Janus offered a small and contemplative smile before responding. “When we had all admitted that we’d hurt him. I already knew what I’d done, but seeing that I wasn’t the only one here aware of their crimes meant I wouldn’t be atoning for them alone, or the only one guilty.”

“Were you already planning on trying to help?” Logan asked

“Someone would have had to, and at least I know how to tell when he’s lying.”

Virgil sighed, getting up from the couch and walking to Janus until he was leering over him.

“Whatever’s going on with Roman, I want to fix it,” he started, a menacing growl in his voice. “And I know I won’t be able to do it on my own. But if you ever so much as think of hurting him or making this worse, I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your miserable life.”

Janus calmly stared back at him. “I understand.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “Good.”

Remus chuckled behind him. “That would’ve almost been threatening if you weren’t wearing a onesie right now.”

Virgil turned to face him, ears reddening. He opened his mouth to say something, only to shut it when he noticed something lying on the floor just beyond Remus’ shoulder.

“What’s that?” he asked, walking over to the stairway Roman had run up just a few minutes ago.

At the base of the stairs was a crumpled piece of paper bearing only three words:

The Little Mermaid.

It looked like a leftover vote for movie night, written in Roman’s own unmistakable handwriting. Was he upset that they didn’t watch it? The paper wasn’t old enough for it to have been from before his sudden fit of silence. Even if it did, something as small as being outvoted on a movie he’d already seen before surely wouldn’t have been enough to warrant a silent treatment spanning several weeks like this. Not even Roman was that dramatic.

What did this mean? It surely meant something, but what?

Was it about movie night? The movie itself? What is it about The Little Mermaid that’s so-

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

“I think you guys are gonna wanna see this…”

*******

Roman was alone on an empty stage he had built in the Mind Palace, where no one would think to come looking for him. Not like anyone really did, anyway. He showed up and existed in their shadow as long as they’d allow it, then he’d leave when it was appropriate and wait until he was welcomed again. No one looked for him while he was gone, and no one stopped him when he left.

Still, he did prefer a more secure solitude, when it came to this at least. He needed space, more space than his room allowed, and he might run into Remus in the Imagination. He needed something more private for this, and the Mind Palace could be whatever he wanted, however he wanted. Right now, though, he wanted an empty stage to dance on whenever he starting feeling musical again.

Or, in this case, emotional.

He couldn’t sing anymore, but dancing was a fine substitute.

He was in the middle of one of these performances, a dramatic and lively dance that carried him around the stage in a measured elegance that was only slightly rusted from a lack of practice. Anything he lacked in refinement he felt he made up for in passion, though. He leapt and spun and turned and flew, finally flew, away from the empty ache and the cold and the waiting for it all to go wrong again like it always did.

He felt like himself again, at long last. He felt like he was still whole.

Then he saw it.

Saw him.

On the far end of the room, half-hidden in the shadows, stood the Lord of the Lies, staring at him.

Roman dropped to the floor in shock, rather gracelessly he had to admit, before clambering to his feet and hurriedly shuffling back against the curtain.

Not him. Not here. This is the one thing he has left, he can’t lose it too, he can’t-

“No need to panic, Roman. I’m not-“

Roman wasn’t listening. He ought to, if he’s smart. Listening is good, it keeps people happy. He should be paying attention instead of trying to run like this, but he’s not thinking about that. He’s only thinking about how this was his haven, his retreat, and now the side furthest from forgiving him has found it and will no doubt destroy it. He’ll punish him, hurt him, tear him apart now that they were finally alone. Roman knows Janus is still mad at him even if he’s pretending not to show it. And now he’s here, in the one place Roman has left to himself, and he’ll lose this too.

It's his own fault for thinking he deserved to have it in the first place.

“Roman, you need to breathe. Can you look at me?”

Janus took Roman’s hands into his own–-when did he get so close?–-and started rubbing soothing circles into his skin. The gentility was as startling as it was grounding, and Roman found his thoughts coming to a screeching halt as he focused on the bittersweet feeling of someone willingly touching him again, even if it were something as simple as gloved hands holding his own.

He had abstained from this since the incident on the couch, and even though it was only last night it still felt like it had been years since Patton and Virgil had held him.

“There now, that’s it. You can relax now. It’s alright.”

Roman dutifully took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. No laughing from Janus yet, no anger. Later, for sure, but not now.

“Do you want to explain what that was about?”

Roman shook his head. Normally he’d be willing to do whatever was asked of him, even though talking wasn’t exactly an option for him anymore. This, though? Explaining why he’s still so afraid of breaking everything he worked to rebuild, and why Janus still feels like a threat to this tenuous excuse for peace? This was something he simply couldn’t do for him.

Janus nodded. “How about we sit down for a moment, then. You look like you need to rest.”

Roman wasn’t about to argue. He let Janus guide him to a nearby bench and quietly sat down beside him, resisting the urge to pull away and hold himself.

“I get that you probably aren’t going to talk to me, but would you at least try to answer a few yes or no questions? You just have to nod or shake your head.”

Roman nodded. Complying was smart, just like listening. He had to keep the peace somehow, even if that meant letting himself be interrogated in the one space he still had to himself.

“Alright, let’s start with an easy one. Did I scare you just now, when you saw me?”

Roman obediently nodded.

Janus held his hand a little tighter, and Roman let him.

Janus’ reassuring half-smile fell from his face--had it always been there? he hadn’t been paying attention--and turned into a look of something closer to either concern or hurt. Roman didn’t want to think about which one it was.

“Are you scared of me?”

That one was a little tougher. He wasn’t scared of Janus, per se. More of what would come with him, what he represented. Roman was scared of hurting again, of being hurt by the others even after everything. Janus, more than anyone, could make those fears come true, likely without even trying.

Roman knew what that was like all too well.

The hands slipped away from his when he didn’t answer, and Roman tried not to chase them.

“Is that why you’re here? Your attempt at building a sanctuary out of reach?” Janus asked.

Roman felt his eyes burning at the observation, but he forced the feeling down and shamefully nodded, eyes downcast. No sense in lying, Janus would know and he likely wouldn’t appreciate it.

“I didn’t mean to intrude on that, but if I may say so, you are a brilliant dancer.”

Roman felt his face flush. He can’t remember the last time he had been complimented by anyone, and for Janus of all people to the first in so long was something truly beyond his own feeble understanding. Why compliment him? He hasn’t earned that yet, least of all from Janus. He’s only ever gotten the opposite from him before; insults and sarcasm and condescension and…

And lies.

Horrible, hurtful lies.

“I know that face,” Janus continued. “And I’m not lying to you. I know that’s probably hard for you to believe, but I do mean it.”

Roman felt hands holding his own again, the gentle touch admittedly appreciated. He still hadn’t felt like he could let his guard down yet, but he no longer felt chased and that was good enough.

When Janus spoke again, his voice was notably quieter. Almost… softer.

“Do you know why I’m here?”

Roman honestly hadn’t the slightest idea.

“I’m here because the others are all looking for you everywhere else, and I was the only one to think that you’d be somewhere they wouldn’t think about.”

That didn’t make any sense. Why were they looking for him? Was he late for something? He didn’t think so; he’d double checked the schedule and today was wide open. Was he in trouble again?

“Remus and Virgil said there was no sign that you’ve been in the Imagination for weeks, if not more, and Patton was nearly distraught at the state of your room,” Janus continued. “He said your pictures and props were all gone, that the space was utterly barren. And something tells me you weren’t doing any spring cleaning lately.”

Roman numbly shook his head, though he hardly registered it. Why was Patton in his room, and why was he upset? Roman was just trying to clean the Mindscape of his mess, how would that be upsetting? If anything, it ought to be celebrated that he had finally gotten over himself once and for all. It’s not like there was anything about himself worth memorializing, anyway.

“We found your vote for movie night, too. You wanted us to watch it with you, right?”

Roman let out a shaky breath before nodding, keeping his eyes focused on the hands in his lap. Janus’ hands were still calmly cupped around his own, a surprisingly sweet gesture.

“Did you know that I’ve actually read the original story the movie was based on? In it, the mermaid also becomes a wonderful dancer after losing her voice, but every step she takes is like agony, and anytime she danced her feet would bleed from the pain.”

Roman clenched his jaw and hands, but still nodded. Of course he knew the story, he had cried for hours the first time he read it.

Janus slowly inched even closer to him, until their legs nearly brushed together. Roman tried not to focus on that too much.

“Roman, are you in any pain right now?”

Roman bit back a sob and regretfully forced himself to nod.

“Physically?”

Only slightly sore from the dancing and the fall, but no. That wasn’t where he was hurting. He shook his head and hoped, prayed, that Janus would leave it alone. Please, just leave it alone.

He knew the prayer would go unanswered.

Janus gave his hands a squeeze, and Roman couldn’t stop the quiet gasp it shook out of him, or how he instinctively squeezed Janus’ hand back before he even realized what he was doing.

If Janus noticed, he didn’t comment on it. Roman felt grateful for the small courtesy.

“Do you know how the original story ends?”

Roman didn’t respond, mostly because he didn’t want to. He didn’t want whatever this is anymore.

“When the little mermaid wasn’t loved in return, she died and turned into seafoam. She gave everything for love, and was destroyed when she still couldn’t have it.”

No, he didn’t want to hear this anymore. He didn’t want it, please. Please just let him go.

“Roman, do you feel like you’re going to suffer the same fate? Like this silence won’t be enough?”

Stop it, why won’t it stop, please just make this stop-

“Roman, please look at me, dear.”

Dear.

The tears were falling now, faster than Roman could hope to stop or even hide them. He felt those firm hands leave his own and his heart lurched at their absence, but before he could think to follow them they were replaced with steady arms wrapping around him and pulling him close.

It took the feeling of Janus’ heart beating next to his own for Roman to realize he was being hugged.

“What did you trade for, Roman? What were you hoping this would give you?”

No. No, no, no. He couldn’t say it. Not just because of what he did but because of what it would mean to admit it. He can’t, he just can’t. Please, Janus, don’t make him.

Roman felt himself scrambling after something, anything, to ground himself. To stop himself from getting lost in this mess. He finally found what he was looking for, still kept close to his heart, and held tight to it like he could stop it from disappearing.

The metal was warm against his skin and through the fabric of his shirt and it was all he focused on.

“What’ve you got there? Can I see?”

Roman was distantly aware of himself shaking his head, a final desperate defense.

Janus hummed, holding Roman even tighter. “Alright. Would you mind coming to the common room with me, then? I know the others are eager to see you.”

Maybe… maybe he could do that.

It couldn’t be any worse than this, anyway.

Roman managed to slow his tears and carefully nodded, relishing the reassuring squeeze it earned him. Yes, as long as he was good he’d have this. He can be good.

The stage melted away as he felt them both sink into the common room, the wooden bench beneath them now replaced with their couch.

“Is he alright?” Logan’s voice came from his side, followed by warm hands on his back. “What happened to him?”

“He isn’t hurt. At least, not physically.”

“The others are still looking for him. I’ll get them, just keep him here.”

“I doubt he’ll be going anywhere.”

The warmth left his back and pulled another sob from his throat as it did, but the arms around him kept him steady.

“Shh, shh, he’ll be right back, dear. He’s just getting the others here so they can see you.”

Roman wasn’t sure what they’d do once they saw him.

Within seconds, the answer was presented to him in a cacophony of familiar voices, each one thick with worry.

“Oh, kiddo, what’s wrong?”

“What happened to you?”

“Whose ass do I have to kick?”

Janus’ voice cut through their questions. “He’s alright, everyone.”

“Bullshit, he’s alright. Look at him!”

“Where’d you find him, Janus?”

“The Mind Palace. I think he just needed to be alone for a bit.”

“And now?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

Roman felt Janus slowly pull away and resisted the urge to hold him closer before sheepishly looking around at the other sides.

They were all nervously circled around him, hovering just beyond reach like they were trying to hold themselves back from getting any nearer. There was no anger in their eyes, only concern.

That… that couldn’t be right. He had made it so they wouldn’t have to be bothered by him anymore. He spared them that pain, didn’t he?

Had he failed to help them again?

“What is it, kiddo?” Patton asked, taking a small step closer. “What can we do to help?”

Patton can’t ask him that. He can’t offer to do things for Roman, no one can. Roman isn’t supposed to be that burden anymore. He’s not supposed to take from any of them ever again.

“Why did you stop talking, Roman?” Virgil chimed in.

“It’s like with The Little Mermaid, right? You gave it away to get something else?” Logan asked. He was close to him now, so close they’d be touching if either of them moved.

Roman held himself painfully still.

“Roman, what did you want to get from this? We just want to understand.”

They want to understand. Maybe they’d forgive him if he did. Maybe it’ll finally end.

Or just start over.

He slowly pulled his locket out from under his shirt and opened it, exposing it like a wound for the first time since he hung it around his neck on the day he gave up his voice.

He felt their eyes bore into it, but at least they weren’t fixed on him anymore.

They saw now, they understood.

Inside was a picture Patton had insisted on doing last Christmas after the Secret Santa.

It was a family photo of the six of them, dressed in their matching sweaters and flashing their best smiles at the camera while they all posed close together for the occasion. It was cheesy and overdone, but Patton was happy about it, so no one argued or complained.

Roman was never truly sure about how many of those smiles were faked except for his own.

Right now, he wasn’t even sure if the grief on their faces right now was faked either. It certainly looked real, but they had no reason to feel it for him. He didn’t deserve that from them.

“Oh, sweetie…”

“Roman, you didn’t have to trade anything.”

Roman let out a huff, but it didn’t have any attitude or energy to it. Of course he had to do this. He wouldn’t be forgiven if he didn’t.

“Really, we mean it. You didn’t have to trade anything to get us back because you always had us.”

But he didn’t. He knows he didn’t. He’d lost them all and he had to make it right.

He couldn’t make it right, though. He couldn’t do anything right.

That was why he lost them in the first place.

His thoughts must have somehow manifested on his face, and before he could look back up at anyone he was being pulled into what felt like a sea of warmth.

Arms were wrapped all round him, bodies were pressing against his every side, comforting voices were ringing in his ears. It was all so warm, so very warm, almost more than he felt he’d be able to process or handle.

They were saying else something to him now, something that sounded soothing and soft in what could have been one voice or many, but it was barely registered past the siren song of this embrace that tempted a new flood of tears to come bursting to the surface. With every second spared of warmth hands and gentle voices, Roman found it harder to hold it at bay.

They were all holding him, comforting him, almost even caring for him, and it was far too much.

It was more than what he deserved.

“It’s alright, Roman, it’s alright. You’re alright.”

“Everything’s okay, kiddo.”

“It’s over now, I promise.”

“We don’t hate you, we never could and never did.”

“You’re loved, Roman. Always have been, and always will be.”

Loved.

Why was he loved?

Why did they still love him after everything?

He didn’t deserve that from them, he didn’t deserve this. They’re supposed to hate him for what he’s done, for what he’s doing. He’s hurt them. He is hurting them right now, all because…

…because they love him.

Roman felt himself cry before he heard it, like a crashing force beyond his control battering itself against his throat until it finally clawed its way out. Once it did, it was all he could hear. He heard his own pitiful wails heralding his broken heart and promise, and with it came the realization that he had failed them all yet again.

He tried to spare them the pain of his burdensome behavior and failed them by making them feel guilty for his choice. He tried to keep the pain of that choice to himself and failed them by all but pouring it out into their laps. He tried to be good for them, and he failed by making them have to fix him again.

He failed, like he always does.

“I’m sorry,” Roman bawled, struggling to form proper words past the heaving breaths and aching cries but still forcing his apology forward. “I’m so sorry…”

“None of that, dear. There’s nothing you need to apologize for.”

“But-“

“No buts. No apologies. Just let us hold you, Roman.”

Now that his voice had finally been resurrected, and against his own will at that, he found it impossible to hold it back any further. “But I hurt you, I always hurt you… I just wanted to fix it, I wanted to- to-“

Another painful sob ripped itself free. “I wanted to be good.”

“You are, Roman.”

It was even harder to tell the voices apart now, the heartache in each of them near identical.

A heartache that he was responsible for.

“You’re good, Roman. I mean it.”

Roman feebly shook his head, ignoring the stinging pain in his throat as he forced himself to continue. “M’not, though. I wasn’t good.”

“We weren’t good. We should have seen that sooner.”

He couldn’t let them take the blame for this. Not when it was his fault.

“I did this. I was the problem, I still am. I did this. I…”

The warm touches were pressing even tighter around him now, making it even harder for him to catch his breath, but he didn’t care.

“You were hurting,” Janus soothed, his voice smooth and soft against his ear. “And you were hurting because of us.”

“But you were hurting because of me.”

“We all hurt each other, but hurting ourselves won’t make it go away,” Logan added. “It’ll only make it worse. Please, don’t destroy yourself in the name of penance. Don’t do that to yourself, or to us.”

“We’re all so worried about you, Roman. You’ve been so different lately and we were scared that something might have happened to you. We thought…”

Patton picked up where Virgil’s nerves cut him off. “We thought one of us had done this to you.”

…What?

“We were sure that one of us took it too far and finally broke you,” Remus explained, clinging to Roman in a way that would have been painful had he not missed it as much as he did. “I know we’ve all been real shitheads to each other, but you had to deal with the most of it from all of us.”

“Was it because of me?” Patton whispered. “I was so horrible to you, and I didn’t even realize it-“

“But I did,” Janus gently interrupted. “I knew what I was doing and I still did it to you anyway. At first I thought it wouldn’t wound you too deeply, and then you stopped talking and I realized just how deeply I had scarred you. I thought I was the one that did this to you, Roman.”

“I think we were all thinking that,” Virgil added. “I was a dick to you too, and I couldn’t help but blame myself for this. I think I still am.”

Roman felt like the world had started spinning in the wrong direction. They blamed themselves? He did this for them, so they’d stop being hurt. They were supposed to feel better, not worse.

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.

“Roman, please… are you trying to tell us that you did this so we’d be happy?”

Roman found the strength to nod, not trusting himself to speak past the painful lump in his throat.

“You thought we’d be happy seeing you like this?”

Why wouldn’t they be? He was better now, he wasn’t a problem.

He wasn’t himself anymore, just like they wanted.

Things were good, he saw it.

Roman finally managed to talk again through his sobs. “Weren’t you?”

Someone’s chest hitched. Maybe it was his, or maybe all of theirs, or maybe he just couldn’t keep track of where his hiccuping breaths were coming from anymore.

“You were happy,” he sobbed, feeling a pair of arms tighten around him even more. “I was quiet, and you were happy. It was good.”

A second gasp echoed one of his own, followed by a whimper he knows he didn’t make.

“Oh, sweetie no…”

“Kiddo, that’s not it, we weren’t-“

“We wanted you to be happy, Roman.”

What were they saying? What did they mean? They weren’t supposed to be worried, they were supposed to be happy. They were happy, right?

“We thought something had happened, so we wanted to give you space enough to feel safe with us again. And when you started being around us more often, we were so relieved because we thought it meant you were doing better.”

“We weren’t happy you were silent, Roman.” Who was talking now? Was it the same person? Roman couldn’t remember. “We were happy you were with us again.”

“We never wanted this for you, Princey.”

“We all missed you so much.”

Their words cut through the aching sounds of his anguish like a knife, and with each one, there was an echo in his mind. A single word, repeating itself over and over like a desperate chant:

“Why?”

“Why what, dear?”

Talking past the lump in his throat was painful, hell, talking at all was painful, but Roman wasn’t done yet. He still needed to know. “Why do you… want me?”

For the briefest of moments the only sound in the room was Roman’s own heaving sobs, before:

“Because we love you, Roman.” Janus whispered, his voice almost as strained and hoarse as Roman's. “You’re our family, and we don’t ever want to be without you.”

“We need you, kiddo. We miss you.”

“Please come back. We don’t want you gone.”

“You mean the world to us, truly.”

Roman didn’t understand. Maybe he didn’t want to understand, because doing so would mean admitting to something he couldn’t believe. After everything he’s done to them, everything he said, how could they still love him?

How could he still love them? He found himself asking. After everything they did?

His answer was immediate. Because it’s impossible not to.

The knife twisted itself in his gut, wrenching a wave of wails from him as he let himself  be held and comforted by the family he tried to fix. But maybe it didn’t need to be fixed, at least, not like he thought it did. Maybe it was never as broken as he had convinced himself that it was. They’re all damaged, yes, but it’s nothing broken. It’s nothing they can’t all take care of together.

As long as they love each other, things will never have to feel like this again. They’re still a family.

Roman could see that now, and maybe he could finally start to believe it.

It wouldn’t be too long after this that they’d all sit down and have a proper discussion, one that Roman was assured he’d be able to include himself in. The others would all tell Roman that they were sorry and Roman would hoarsely insist that no, he’s the one who’s sorry, as he fumbled over words he’d nearly forgotten how to form, only to be pulled into another massive group hug as they all insisted that he didn’t need to apologize.

He'd try and fail to stop himself from crying again, and this time he’d realize the others were all crying with him and likely had been doing so earlier. And later, much later, Roman would be brought into every conversation and group discussion with a smile, and even though he’d still struggle with rediscovering his rusted voice, the others would all ensure he was heard and understood. The next time a movie night came around Roman found himself in the middle of a massive cuddle pile, feeling warmer and more loved than he had ever thought was capable for himself.

For now, though, he was currently being held and heard by a family that finally felt whole again, and that alone was more than anything he could have hoped for.

taglist:

@keitaisghost @holdnarrytight @britt-ish123 @nico-the-overlord @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie

@oatmealdaydreams @rougeside4 @new-zee-land @yuckypuppie @can-i-take-a-stab

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

very cute!

Love Is A Strong Word

pairings: intrulogical

summary: Logan has definitely grown very fond of Remus as of late, and decides it would be a good idea to tell him that. Remus' reaction isn't exactly the most encouraging one, though, and Logan is left trying to figure out what it is that could have upset him.

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, miscommunication, does it count as miscommunication if nothing was really said?

word count: 3400

Logan hadn’t realized it at first. He had always liked the silence, that peaceful absence of noise that lulled him into a gentle tranquility. It became something he almost coveted, since quiet moments were a true rarity in the Mindscape.

Lately, however, he was less eager to be away from the sounds.

Or one sound in particular.

Remus sat across from him as he tore into his breakfast, the metal spoon loudly scraping against the ceramic bowl and creating a cacophonous noise that Logan found he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would. Then again, a lot has changed lately, especially with him. Him, and also Remus.

He can’t quite recall exactly how it started, or why, but he and Remus had somehow managed to form a tentative truce some time ago. One that eventually formed into something closer to a friendship of sorts, difficult as it was to comprehend.

Maybe friendship wasn’t the best word for… whatever this was with them. A partnership maybe, or a companionship. One may even be daring enough to call it a relationship, though Logan had no idea which kind it would be.

It wasn’t exactly professional, nor was it familial. Platonic, maybe, but he didn’t feel like this about the other sides. Sure, he worked with them, and got along and enjoyed their company, but it just wasn’t the same thing. It was hard to understand, and even harder to explain, but this…

This was something else.

It wasn’t just Logan having fun when Remus was around, it was also a sense of contentment. When given the choice between time alone and time with Remus, Logan found himself choosing the latter far more often than the former. Remus could still give Logan cause for concern with his antics, but lately he had also been feeling concerned for him. He would notice if Remus was quieter than normal and see if something was troubling him, or make sure he’s eaten well enough today.

He cared about Remus, not exactly more so than the other sides, but definitely in a different way than with them. This was personal, this was intimate, this was…

This was love.

Logan… loved Remus.

The most startling part of this revelation, however, that that it was hardly startling at all. It felt natural, as easy and effortless as the act of breathing. Logan wondered how he hadn’t felt this way about him sooner, or if he always had and only realized it now.

A nudge against his leg from under the table brought Logan back into focus, not even aware of how much his mind had wandered until that moment.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Remus teased.

Logan felt himself flush. He hadn’t even realized he had been smiling, but it made sense that he would have been, considering what was on his mind.

“I must have lost track of myself for a moment,” Logan simply replied.

“Well are you gonna tell me what you were thinking about, or do I get three guesses?”

Logan considered that for a moment. Admitting he was in love with someone was awfully uncharacteristic of himself, but then again, Remus had always encouraged him to be more open with how he was feeling, coaxing out his pent up frustrations and his long-dormant passions with an encouraging smile. He insisted Logan tell him whatever he was thinking or feeling, no matter what it was that was on his mind. Remus offered no judgement for anything he said, only reception.

Maybe… maybe Logan can share this with him, too.

“I love you, Remus.”

Logan had a myriad of expectations regarding how Remus would respond.

He worried Remus might laugh at him for being a sentimental sap, or condescendingly tell him how much he sounds like Patton when he says gross things like that, or even just awkwardly explain that he’s sorry but that isn’t really something that Remus does.

He hoped Remus would let out a victorious whoop before leaping over the table and pulling him into one of his now all-too familiar hugs, shouting a gleeful “about time!” as they held each other on the kitchen floor, or maybe flush and respond with shy smile and a quiet “same to you”.

He most certainly didn’t expect for Remus to freeze entirely, a spoonful of cereal made with water stopping about halfway from his still-open mouth. He didn’t expect the hand still on the table to curl into a fist and start shaking from how tightly it was clenched. He certainly didn’t expect Remus to stop breathing.

“Remus? Are you alright?”

Remus didn’t move or say anything. He only blinked once, twice, thrice.

Logan tentatively placed a hand on his trembling fist. “Remus?”

Remus flinched, jerking his hand away and dropping his spoon with a choked gasp.

“You can’t say that,” he muttered, standing from his chair and rushing back to his room.

Logan sat in his chair, unable to do anything but watch him go. He wanted more than anything to follow him and make sure he was okay, or even just ask him what happened, but he knows Remus prefers to be alone when he’s upset and it would be better not to disturb him further.

He’d already disturbed him enough by the looks of it.

What happened to make him react like that? Did Logan say it wrong somehow? Did Remus just not feel the same?

It wasn’t exactly disgust or mockery, going by the look on his face.

It almost looked like terror.

But that couldn’t be right. Remus feared nothing, loudly priding himself on that any chance he got. He was unafraid, unashamed, and effortlessly self-assured in a way that Logan always admired. Nothing could frighten Remus, nothing could disturb him.

So why did he look like he wanted to run for his life? Why did he shy away from Logan touching him like he thought it would hurt? Why was he so shaken from this?

Logan kept running the events through his head and only came up with more questions. He wanted to ask Remus all of them, but if he was uncomfortable with him now then Logan wouldn’t try and pester him further. He needed space right now, Logan understood and respected that.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t worried.

Remus didn’t handle things well when they bothered him. If a jar wouldn’t open, he’d smash it. If a project wasn’t working, he’d set it on fire.

Logan was almost afraid to wonder what he’d do because of this.

Logan didn’t see Remus for the rest of the day, and every hour that passed only made him feel worse. The other sides had all come downstairs and had their own breakfasts by now, with most of them sneering at the now soggy remains of Remus’ leftover breakfast and the rest shaking their heads in disapproving dismissal. Logan felt sick to his stomach at the memory of when he would have reacted that way.

Was that it? Has Remus refused to forgive Logan for how he treated him in the past?

Sure, the others have been far worse, but Logan had a hand in his neglect too. It’s not like he can just expect those wounds to heal overnight, and even when they did heal, it didn’t mean Logan would be forgiven for causing them.

It didn’t mean Remus had to love him back.

Why would Remus love him at all, anyway? Logan was rude, and boring, and everything Remus hated. There was no way anything like this would have worked out well between them. This was order growing attached to chaos, a clear day looking for storms, an office building longing for graffiti. He should have known better than to foolishly get his hopes up like that. There was a reason that he told Thomas that love was a strong word, after all.

Now that he said it, though, it was a lot harder for him to unsay it.

How could he be expected to stop feeling this now that he knew what it was? Remus had helped him pull all of those trapped emotions to the surface, and there was no way he’d be able to force them back down again even if Remus wanted him to.

Did Remus want him to? Did he not want this from him? Did he want them to not feel anything for each other, to just treat their relationship like an unexpected accident and nothing more?

It certainly hadn’t been planned; Logan hadn’t realized what he was feeling or even that he was feeling until it was too late to do anything about it.

What could he do about it? He knew he couldn’t just stop feeling this, and even if he could he really didn’t want to. He’d almost forgotten how wonderful it could be to feel things, and he’d rather not go back to what it was like before if he could help it.

Maybe he could just not do anything about them, letting himself fawn over Remus in private while ensuring he never brought it up around him again.

It would be difficult, but it would be worth it if that was what would make Remus smile again.

Logan woke in the middle of the night to the feeling of eyes on him. He turned, switching on the light, to see Remus staring at him from the corner of his room.

For anyone else, this may have been a troubling sight. They may fear an attack or a vicious prank of sorts, but Logan knew Remus well enough to recognize that this was just his way of seeking out comfort when he was having trouble asking for it directly. He’s had plenty of visits like this by now, waking up to Remus lurking from a distance until he was welcomed closer. These visits usually lead to Remus cozying up to him and muttering broken details of whatever the problem was.

This was the first time Logan knew he was what had been upsetting him.

Logan made some room in his bed and patted the mattress invitingly, and in mere moments Remus had scurried over to him and crawled under the covers, clinging to Logan like a lifeline.

“How are you feeling?” Logan asked.

Remus gave him a shrug and a grunt, but at least it was a response. If he did nothing at all Logan would have been doubly worried; it was never good when Remus went wholly unresponsive.

“Are you alright with some ‘yes or no’ questions?”

A nod.

“Alright. Do you feel better now than before?”

Another nod as Remus burrowed his head into Logan’s chest.

“Is it anything I can help you with?”

Remus paused for a moment before shrugging.

“Will you be able to talk about it, even if it’s not right now?”

“…I can talk about it.”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Logan offered.

“I do, I do, I just-“ Remus took a moment to sit up, with Logan quickly doing the same. “I just don’t know how to start, is all.”

Logan hummed in understanding, watching as Remus folded his knees to his chest and idly rocked back and forth on his bed. Really, Logan was just relieved that he had come to him tonight. He hadn’t seen Remus all day, and he had started to fear that he may avoid him for far longer. If Remus was willing to see him then maybe he hadn’t fully ruined things between them. At least, not yet.

“This is because of what I said over breakfast, right?”

Remus let out a half chuckle. “I just don’t get it.”

Logan tried not to think about the knot-like feeling in his chest. “What don’t you get?”

“All of it. What you said, but mostly just why you said it. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“I said it because I meant it,” Logan explained. “Is that alright?”

“No.” then, “Yes. Maybe, I don’t know.” Remus sighed. “I’m not really sure what to do about it.”

Logan inched closer to him, until he could place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Remus stopped rocking, now eyeing the hand like it was some foreign thing he couldn’t comprehend.

“You don’t have to do anything about it,” Logan told him. “I just wanted to tell you; however you feel about it is perfectly fine.”

“But why did you want to tell me?”

Logan hated not having a clear answer for that. Everything always made sense for him; he often prided himself on his ability to break down even the most obscure concepts into simple teachings that anyone could understand, but these feelings were beyond even his own understanding.

If he couldn’t understand them, he had no idea how he would be able to explain them.

The silence stretched on for far too long, until Remus sighed and shrugged Logan’s hand off his shoulder.

“Nevermind, forget it,” he grumbled, looking away. “It’s bullshit anyway.”

Logan ignored the hurt he felt as Remus shuffled out of his reach. “What is?”

Remus let out a scoff. “Everything. Me, you, that stuff you said you think you feel about me. All of it.”

Logan could only watch as Remus’ walls came back up, ones he hadn’t seen in a long time and ones that he didn’t even realized had fallen in the first place. He looked cold and hardened now, his eyes sharp and distant. He looked like how he was when Logan first saw him, back when they didn’t really know each other. He looked like he thought Logan was a stranger.

“Remus, I really do love you,” he started. “I know I’m not the best at expressing feelings like this, but I promise you I know what it is I feel about you.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

Remus let out a huff. “Don’t say that, okay? Not about me, and not to me. You just can’t.”

“Why not?”

Remus rolled his empty eyes. “Because it isn’t true. I know it isn’t, and if anyone’s gonna fuckin’ lie to me I’d rather it be from Janus because at least I can expect it when it’s coming from him.”

Logan was stunned. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “…Do you really think that I was lying?”

“I hoped not, but it makes sense. Why else would you say it? ‘Cuz it’s the truth?” Remus shook his head. “Please. If it were ever true then you wouldn’t have been the first.”

“First what?”

Remus looked away, blinking for the first time in what felt like ages. “First to ever say it to me.”

It felt like the whole world had stopped spinning at that moment.

“Has no one told you that they love you before?” Logan whispered.

Remus appeared smaller now, the cold sharpness he wore looking almost painful. “Why the hell would they? It wouldn’t be true.”

Logan saw it more clearly now, how the walls weren’t actually walls at all. They were a moat, one Remus had dug himself to force the distance between him and others. Walls could be climbed with the right tools, but moats took more effort.

Had no one ever tried to cross it before?

“But what about Roman, or Patton, or-“

Remus shook his head with a humorless chuckle. “Oh, c’mon. You know that not even Thomas himself would tell me that shit. No one would say it to me because they won’t ever mean it. Patton thinks I’m disgusting, Virgil’s scared to death of me, Janus can’t be bothered, and Roman- “ he stopped and took a breath. “I’m everything he doesn’t want to be.”

Logan’s chest started to burn as he listened. How long had he been holding his breath like this, like he was afraid of taking any effort away from hearing this admission?

“I know I’m shit, so does everyone else. That’s why they all know better than to pretend to care about me.” Remus finally looked back at him, his face startlingly open. “So why did you?”

Of all the times for Logan to draw a figurative blank, this was the worst. He needed to say something now, right now, but more than that he needed to say the right thing. This is the one thing he cannot afford to risk ruining.

Please, let him do this right.

“I told you I love you because I mean it,” he said. “That’s the only reason I say anything, especially something this important. I wish I could find a way to prove it to you, or at least explain it in a way that makes sense, but I’m afraid I doubt it’s possible for me to do that.”

“Why?”

“Because this isn’t something I can explain. I can tell you exactly how and why the act of breathing is effortless and automatic, I can break down the reason behind magnetic attraction and why polar opposites are drawn to each other so instinctively, but I can’t for the life of me find the right words to tell you why loving you is so natural that I hadn’t even realized I’d been doing it this whole time.”

Remus stared back at him with wide eyes, almost frozen like he was at the kitchen table. Logan hoped it wasn’t for the same reason.

“Remus, you know I’m telling the truth, right?”

Remus’ bottom lip started to tremble as he slowly crawled closer to Logan, eventually falling into his lap and letting himself be pulled into a warm hug. Logan held him close as he started to shake and clutch his shirt, with tiny gasps escaping every labored breath.

He felt Remus press and nuzzle his face against the crook of his neck like he was trying to crawl into his skin and hide under it as Logan softly rubbed circles into his back and offered comforting squeezes, silently reassuring that he wouldn’t have to try because he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I want to believe you,” Remus mumbled. “I really do. It’s just… no one ever really told me anything like that before, let alone actually meant it. It’s just hard to hear it.”

Logan let out a low breath. “Would it be alright if I kept saying it until you could believe it?”

“You’d be saying it a lot.”

Logan gave a thoughtful hum. “That just means I get to keep trying until I say it right.”

Remus chuckled a little, easing out of the tightly wound tangle of limbs wrapped around the two of them. “I think you said it fine, my ears are just broken.”

“You’re not broken, Remus,” Logan said with a soft smile. “You have no need to blame yourself, not for this. And I truly do love you, and I promise I’ll work to make sure you believe it.”

“And what’ll happen if I do?”

“When you do, I’ll keep loving you just like I do now. I’ll love you even when you try to convince yourself I don’t anymore, because you’re the one who taught me the meaning of the word.”

Remus gave him a watery smile. “I didn’t teach you anything.”

Logan smiled back, something he realized he’d been doing an awful lot around Remus. Not that he minded, it had been a very long time since he’d felt like doing so.

 “Maybe you didn’t plan to, but I learned from you all the same.”

When Remus responded by burying his face against Logan’s skin again, he knew this time wasn’t another attempt at hiding. The brief sight of a hopeful smile and deepening blush Logan got before Remus’ face vanished from his view was confirmation enough that it wasn’t fear anymore.

It was wanting to be closer just for the comfort and contentment of being together. It was finding sanctuary and solace in each other even if at times it felt like nowhere else could be as safe. It was feeling the warmth and weight of this embrace and knowing that they were here together.

It was love.

The two lay there for a moment, leaning against the headrest and simply enjoying each other’s company. Love is far too complex to be easily put into words, but maybe this would be an acceptable way of expressing it when it couldn’t be properly voiced.

“Thank you,” Remus whispered into the silence. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Remus.”

taglist:

@nico-the-overlord @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie @oatmealdaydreams @holdnarrytight @new-zee-land

@keitaisghost @britt-ish123 @rougeside4 @can-i-take-a-stab @yuckypuppie

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

Oooh I remember you talking about this idea. Now I’m curious as to what would happen if Roman summoned a different side. Inspired even 😉

No Substitute

pairings: platonic royality

summary: Roman's been struggling for a while, and he feels like he doesn't really have anyone to talk to anymore. Fortunately for him, he doesn't really need to talk to the real thing when he can just conjure a copy of someone to talk to, right?

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, Roman's still mad at Patton but they're getting there

word count: 3525

Roman returned to his room with a sigh. Today was a struggle, much like everything else had been lately. Even simple family dinners had become as daunting as some of his greatest quests, with every conversation feeling like a complicated duel where even the slightest miscalculation would lead to someone getting hurt.

He hated this, everyone constantly walking on eggshells around each other, but far too much had gone wrong for him to be able to fix it this time. Accusations and barbs had been thrown in every direction, both as offense and defense, and it was unfortunately only reasonable for everyone to still be on guard. Roman was definitely keeping his own shield up, after all.

It was just too hard to be as open around the others as he used to be. He had tried, time and time again, only to be let down every time. He worked so hard to pretend that things were still okay, that he wasn’t hurting, only to be let down every time. Logan would judge him for having problems, Virgil would disparage him and only worry him further, Remus would mock whatever it is that he’d admit, and Janus would only take great pleasure in hurting him with whatever weakness Roman would stupidly share with him.

And then there was Patton. Patton was a whole other story.

If anyone would actually try to comfort him or at least pretend to care about him, it’d be Patton. He was like sunshine and laughter personified on most days, always looking after the others like they were his own children. Which of course they weren’t, they were all the same age and he knew that, but it didn’t stop Patton from showering everyone in paternal affection every chance he got.

Still, he had his own flaws. Roman loathed to admit it, but pretending otherwise was impossible and painful. Patton had messed up big time, or he had been messing up this whole time, either way it felt like a betrayal. Roman had been following his lead from day one, modeling his role after what Patton had taught him. His very existence was built upon the guidelines Patton had set, leading him down the path he wanted and guiding him back on track if he ever got close to straying from it.

It made sense now, why Patton saw himself as the father of the group. He was their guide and guardian, the one to set a good example and to raise the others well. Their wellbeing was his job, and their future his mission. In a way, he did raise them.

And like most fathers, he let them down.

He didn’t know right from wrong, or good from bad. He was just guessing at every turn and hoping that he could figure it out before the others caught on that he was just as in the dark about this as everyone else was.

Everything Roman stood for, everything that separated him from his brother, all of it was smoke and mirrors that only distracted him from the crushing reality that he stood for nothing. His virtues and hopes, his self-imposed idea of “good”, “prince”, and “hero”, it was all worthless.

Roman was worthless.

He was furious; at Patton, at Janus, at himself. Maybe even at Thomas, painful as it may be to admit. As angry as he was, he didn’t have enough fight left in him to do anything about it. He was just tired, so tired, and he wanted more than anything to close his eyes, drop his sword, and let the battles end, come what may.

It’s not like he really had anything left to fight for, anyway.

No fortune, no future, no family.

No father.

He had never felt so abandoned, so alone, and he was desperate for a break from this desolation.

Even if he would have to fabricate it himself.

He had conjured living things before, plenty of times. Dogs, a fake Valerie, and just about whatever else the situation called for. They were never real, not like Thomas was, but they were close enough. They looked, sounded, felt, and even acted like the real thing, even though they only really performed in accordance to his own whims. He’d done it before; he could do it again. It would be enough for now.

Roman closed his eyes and focused. He thought of the smell of freshly baked cookies, the feel of soft fabric and warm skin surrounding him, the sound of a gentle voice to soothe him.

He opened his eyes and waved his hand, and a perfect replica of Patton stood before him.

Roman didn’t bother thinking of what the copy would say to him, or if it would say anything, instead preferring to just fall into its arms and feeling it hold him in one of those perfect hugs he’d gone without for far too long.

Warm limbs wrapped tightly around him in an instant, rubbing soothing circles in his back and holding him close as Roman finally let himself rest. He laid his head against his shoulder with another sigh, simply breathing in that all-too familiar scent that teased the constant ache in his chest back to the surface.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s alright. How about we sit down by the bed, okay?”

Patton’s voice was clear and calm, sounding exactly like the real thing. Roman didn’t want to think about why it wasn’t. He simply nodded and let himself be guided back to his own bed, where he was immediately pulled into another tight hug.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

If it were the real Patton, he’d say no. If it were the real Patton, Roman wouldn’t have even let him hold him in the first place. But this was just a replica, an artificial reproduction that Roman had built to cater to his needs. And right now, he really needed to talk to someone.

“I don’t know what to do,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the copy’s shoulder as it held him. “Everything’s gone all wrong and it’s just so hard to keep pretending anything is okay anymore. I can’t keep fighting anymore, but I don’t know what else I can do. I just… “ Roman took a moment to force down the few tears that threatened to spill.

“I just don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.”

One of the hands found its way to his hair, gently scratching at his scalp and persuading Roman to take a deep breath.

“Roman, kiddo… I’m so sorry you’ve been feeling this way. I know a lot of it is my fault and I’m so sorry I hurt you like this, but I’m glad you’re willing to talk about it now. I’m sure it isn’t easy, but it really does mean a lot to me that you could tell me how you’re feeling.”

“I don’t even know what I’m feeling, not really.” Roman muttered.

“Well, if you want we can figure some of your feelings out.”

“How?”

“Just tell me whatever’s on your mind. I promise I’ll help you with it as best as I can.”

If Roman were more attentive right now he’d be congratulating himself on his ability to recreate Patton so perfectly. Instead, he’d rather pretend things were different for just a few moments longer. Maybe he can try to convince himself that at this moment, he’s just Princey having a heart-to-heart with Morality, even though those days feel like nothing more than a distant dream.

He took a deep breath, focusing on everything he had been keeping down, and finally let it all out.

“I’m angry at you.”

Finally voicing those four words felt like he had just shrugged the weight of the entire world off his shoulders, and eased the pain in his chest enough for him to breath without effort. He couldn’t help but let out a quiet exhale at how much lighter he felt already. The real Patton isn’t going to hear this anyway, so what’s the harm in this overdue confession?

“I’m just so hurt and angry, and I know you didn’t mean to betray me or anything but I still blame you for it and that’s not fair either, but it all just feels sour now.”

Roman almost thought he heard a whimper, but if he did he ignored it. It might have been his own, he was certainly holding back much more than a whimper after all.

“It just feels impossible to have any trust or faith anymore,” he continued. “I’m supposed to fight for Thomas’ dreams but I don’t even know what it is that he’s supposed to dream for. Wanting success is selfish but being charitable is unhealthy, it’s like there’s no clear answer. I just wish I knew what to do, because right now it feels like I can’t do anything right.”

The arms holding him were still warm and solid, but they had started to still the longer Roman talked, until they were so taught with emotion that he swore he could feel them trembling in tandem with its fabricated heartbeat. He didn’t think a copy could even have any feelings to get hurt, but then again this was a copy of Patton, the self-proclaimed core of Thomas’ feelings. He supposed it was impossible to create a version of him that wasn’t emotional.

“Roman…” the voice began, tight and strained but still sounding like Patton, “Roman, I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you that badly. I swear I didn’t mean to, and I know it’s no excuse, but I want you to know that I really do feel awful knowing how badly this has all affected you.”

Roman was held even tighter, if that was at all possible, and the sob that he heard was most certainly not his own.

“I don’t know what I can do to make it up to you, or if that’s even possible, but I want to at least try to fix this, however I can.”

“I don’t even know how to fix this,” Roman huffed. “Or if it can be fixed at all. It just hurts.”

“I’m sure we can fix this, Roman. It’ll probably take a while, but you being willing to talk about it like this is a great first step. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you to do that.”

“It really wasn’t.”

Leave it to his own projection to stay optimistic. Then again, Roman wouldn’t have conjured a copy in the first place if it was only going to complain.

He already heard enough of that from the real sides downstairs.

“Would it be alright if I asked why you could talk about it now?” the copy asked.

Roman took a moment to think about it. He didn’t expect this faux-Pa of his to ask him questions, but the lack of a clear answer may have been the reason to ask himself this in the first place.

All in all, this is what he was really doing here. He was just talking to himself because it was the only way he’d be able to talk about this.

Well, he may as well answer himself.

“I guess I was just tired of pretending I wasn’t feeling like this,” Roman replied. “You can only really hold something in for so long, but it’s not like a lot of people were gonna listen to me.”

“Is that why I’m the one you wanted to talk to?”

Roman nodded against his shoulder, feeling his own throat tighten with emotion he was finding far too difficult to keep buried.

There really wasn’t anyone else he could imagine showing him any sort of kindness, not even when he could make a mere copy of them care for him instead of the real thing. Of all the sides, Patton was the gentlest, the most affectionate. That care always found a way of drifting into Roman’s orbit, even if it wasn’t anything meant for him. Patton was like sunlight in a snowstorm, saving Roman when he wasn’t supposed to be saved.

He knew he didn’t deserve that from Patton. Not the real one, anyway. He didn’t deserve affection, but that didn’t stop him from constantly chasing after its shadow. That was why it was so easy to win Roman over, just pretend to offer him something close to kindness and let his desperation leash him like the trained pet he truly was.

He just wanted to pretend that he wasn’t. That, just for a moment, he was something worth loving.

“I’m just so alone,” Roman sobbed into the fabricated shoulder’s fabric. “It doesn’t feel like I have anyone anymore. Janus and Logan hate me, Virgil and Remus want nothing to do with me, and- “

A heaving breath echoed through the room, only adding excess weight to the gravity of his words.

“… and you only ever care about me when it isn’t real.”

“Of course it’s real, Roman,” the replica weakly replied. “I’m right here, I care so much about you.”

Roman could hardly breath through his sobs enough to laugh. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means everything to me. And the others all love you, too. I know it.”

Roman feebly shook his head in denial, not even raising it from its spot in the crook of the copy’s neck. “No they don’t. I’m no good, everyone knows that. I’m stupid, and worthless, an-and mean, and…“ another sob cut him off. “And wrong. I’m always getting things wrong.”

“What do you think you’re wrong about?” the voice whispered.

“Everything. The dark sides, the wedding, Thomas’ goals, even myself. I always mess up and end up hurting Thomas and I don’t mean to, but I can never figure it out because I’m just too stupid to do my job right.”

Roman buried his head into the warm body that was supporting him, almost like he wanted to hide away from what he had said.

Or from what he was about to say.

“It’s why I’m not Thomas’ hero. It’s why I never really was. He’s better off without me.”

Roman heard a choked gasp before he was swiftly pulled back, and he was certain that someone had come in and was angry at him for this. He would be torn away from his only catharsis and yelled at for being so horrible, but it was only what he deserved anyway. Here he was, using the likeness of another side to vent his own problems and blaming everyone else for them as if he hadn’t done this to himself in the first place.

They had every right to hate him for that.

A rather loud sniffle that definitely didn’t come from himself coaxed Roman into opening his eyes again.

Patton’s face was inches away from his own, tear-stained and full of unbridled grief. His hands, still tightly clutching Roman’s sleeves, were shaking but still solid and warm.

They were the same hands that had held him earlier, the same ones that had pulled him away. The same ones he had conjured.

“No, Roman,” he choked out. “No. Thomas needs you; we all do. We love you so much, and we don’t ever want you to go away, alright? You’re our family, you mean the world to us.”

Roman wanted more than anything to believe himself right now. He desperately wanted to be convinced that that was the truth and not just him trying to back himself away from the metaphorical edge, but…

“Then why don’t I feel it?”

The figure looked like it had stopped breathing for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I can’t really believe any of that, because if it were true I would have been able to see it for myself. I know how little everyone thinks of me, I’ve heard all of it. If anyone actually loved me then they would have done something to let me know it, right? They wouldn’t act like I ruined their day just by showing up. They wouldn’t have given me a reason to avoid them like this.”

Patton looked like his heart had just been shattered. He looked like his very soul had shriveled away and died like a plant without any water. He looked…

He looked like how Roman felt.

“I don’t know how I didn’t… I mean I really should have… oh Roman, I’m so sorry!” he wailed, pulling Roman close and holding him to his chest like he would disappear once he was released.

“I had no idea I had been doing this to you this whole time, I should’ve… Roman, why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Roman just stilled, letting his silence provide all the answers necessary.

“Sweetie, I- of course you’re loved! We all love you and miss you so much, I swear we never meant to make you think that we didn’t!”

“What do you mean ‘missed’ ? I was with everyone today for dinner. I’ve been here every day.”

“It didn’t really feel like it was you, though. It’s been so long since you’ve actually been yourself around us, but we just didn’t know why. Virgil has been so worried about you, and Logan’s always trying to find ways to help make things easier for you but it only made you more upset. Roman, we really do just want you back. We wanted to give you some space, take some of the pressure off your shoulders, but I didn’t even consider you might not have taken it that way. We weren’t ignoring you or avoiding you, Roman, really. We all just want you back. We want our hero back.”

That was what did it.

The tears Roman had managed to fight back earlier returned in full force, and he didn’t have it in himself to keep them at bay any longer. Maybe he could actually let those tears fall now that he had made up a shoulder for himself to cry on. Now, with only himself as company, maybe he could finally let himself break.

Patton held him as the worst of his shakes and sobs wracked through his body and let him weep and wail into his shoulder without objection. Though, over the sound of his own breakdown, Roman swore he heard a second side crying.

After what felt like hours but may have only been a few minutes, Roman finally let the last few sobs leave his chest, collapsing into the steady form that continued to hold him. He felt the bed shift a little as he was being gently laid down in a more comfortable position, realizing just then how exhausted he truly was. He let his eyes slip shut while blankets were slowly drawn over him and a gentle kiss was placed on his forehead.

Roman blearily opened his eyes again and saw his fake Patton staring down at him with a teary-eyed smile. He had never seen the real Patton make this kind of pained, loving expression before, but it certainly looked real on this imagined version of him.

Then again, the love from earlier had almost felt real, too.

“… Is there anything I could do for you?” the copy asked him.

Finally Roman had heard it. An offer to make things right, said by someone other than himself. Hearing Patton’s voice promising to work with him instead of Roman working for him was something he didn’t think he’d ever hear. He always had to be the one to clean up the mess, even if he had no hand in causing it. Now that someone was finally offering to be the one to help him, he didn’t even know what he’d want them to do.

Even in this made-up scenario, where he could pretend Patton would do anything for him.

“Could you just… hold me for a little longer? Just until I fall asleep? It’s been awhile since I had anything like this, real or otherwise.”

There was a brief pause, before Roman felt another kiss against his forehead and a hand combing through his hair again, as soft and sure as the real thing.

“Of course, kiddo,” Patton whispered. “And even if you don’t wanna believe me right now, I really do mean it when I say I love you. I always have, and I promise I always will.”

Roman closed his eyes with a content sigh, no longer having the energy to keep himself awake. Having another presence here in the room with him, even one he had to make up, made it so much easier for him to finally let himself rest.

“It’ll be okay sweetie.” Patton whispered as Roman started to drift. “I’ll stay for as long as you need.”

Roman managed to let out a weak chuckle before finally succumbing to sleep. “I know that. It’s why you’re here.”

Patton took a moment to watch as Roman slept, mulling everything over in his head. He wasn’t quite sure what Roman meant by that, or why he had even summoned him at all, but in all honesty, he didn’t really care. Roman was talking to him again, and that would be enough.

taglist:

@rougeside4 @keitaisghost @holdnarrytight @new-zee-land @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie

@nico-the-overlord @oatmealdaydreams @can-i-take-a-stab @britt-ish123 @yuckypuppie

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

Ooh love a warm Janus fic rather than the cold ones! It’s a nice change!

Too Hot To Handle

pairings: platonic DLAMPR

summary: Sometimes the warm weather can get to be too much for Thomas and the sides, but it seems that a certain snake couldn't be happier about the whole situation.

tags/warnings: some cursing but that's about it

word count: 1136

This wasn’t the first time a heatwave descended upon Thomas’ apartment, courtesy of the ever-so dreadful Floridian climate, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The heat and humidity were an unpleasant constant from which there seemed very little escape, but fortunately there was sanctuary to be found inside thanks to the modern miracle of air conditioning.

A miracle that was currently malfunctioning.

The call had already been made for repairs, but it would not be able to be fixed until the end of the week. On the one hand, it was at least a little reassuring to know that the high temperatures would be resolved in only a few days, but on the other hand…

“It’s as if the sun itself had conspired against me! I’m melting in this heat, I swear!”

Logan rolled his eyes at Roman’s repeated whining. “Firstly, the sun is not a malicious entity with the intention or ability to deliberately intervene with your wishes, secondly-“

“You don’t have to take everything I say literally, Logan!”

“And you don’t have to complain about the thermostat all day, either. We’re all inconvenienced, but you don’t hear anyone else ranting about it for hours on end, now do you?”

“That’s mostly because we’re too damn miserable to,” Virgil grumbled from his current position on the living room floor. He had abandoned his hoodie hours ago in a last-ditch effort to cool off as he sprawled out like a starfish on the floor, though it didn’t really do him any good.

The other sides had gone to similar extremes by now, with Patton and Roman switching out their usual outfits for shorts with a tank top and a crop top respectively, and Logan having unbuttoned his polo and removed his tie. The hot weather had even gotten to Remus, who refused to wear anything other than shorts to stave off the heat as he and the others lounged about in the living room.

It seemed that fewer layers wouldn’t be enough, though. Roman was currently using a comically large paper fan to cool himself on the couch while Patton sat next to him with an ice pack. Virgil laid in the direct airflow of a large electric fan placed in the middle of the room, taking up as much of the refreshing breeze as possible no matter how badly Roman complained. Remus had gone so far as to set up a small plastic kiddie pool next to Virgil and filled it with ice, occasionally munching on some as he smugly refused to share or leave it.

Logan seemed most unaffected by the heat, only occasionally drinking ice water to cool off when he felt the need to, but it was still clear that he was just as miserable as the others. He had been complaining about it to a degree, though it was about the lack of energy and motivation brought on by the heat more than anything. The sides were all too concerned with cooling off to get anything done, though they still found the time to argue. In truth, there was little else they felt like doing.

That is, except for one side in particular.

Janus came back inside with a flourish and a smile, having just sunbathed on the back porch for the last couple of hours while the others wasted away indoors.

“Isn’t it just the perfect weather outside,” he hummed, sounding far too cheerful for anyone else’s liking. “If only it could be like this all year round, don’t you all agree?”

“For once in my life, I sincerely hope you’re lying,” Roman groaned. “It’s so hot in here I’m half convinced I saw two hobbits throw a ring in the living room!”

Logan let himself smile a little at that. “A Lord of the Rings joke, well done.”

“How are you handling the heat so well, Janus? I thought you’d be just as upset about it as Roman,” Patton asked, offering him his ice pack only for Janus to wave it away.

“On the contrary I find this warm weather rather enjoyable, though it’s clearly not for everyone.”

“You can say that again,” Virgil muttered, not looking up at him. “It’s hot as hell in here and it sucks big time, and you’re crazy for saying otherwise.”

“And being crazy is my thing, not yours!” Remus added, shifting in his ice bath to better face Janus. “I know we’re worsties and all, but if anyone’s going to say bat-shit stuff like that, it’s gonna be me!”

“Oh come on, you know very well why I’m enjoying myself right now.”

“Getting a kick out of seeing us miserable?” Roman asked with a growl.

Janus shrugged before strolling to the kitchen, humming idly to himself as he quickly returned to the living room with a water bottle in hand.

“In part, yes, but that’s not the main reason.”

Logan perked up a bit from his spot next to Patton. “It’s because you’re coldblooded, right? The higher temperatures must help with thermoregulation and metabolism for you. It would certainly explain why you appear so active and energized compared to the rest of us.”

“Well done, Logan! You guessed the right answer, good for you,” Janus teased, his voice oozing in condescension as he patronizingly applauded him.

“Don’t start any of that shit right now,” Virgil muttered, sweeping a leg out in an attempt to kick at Janus only for him to swiftly sidestep out of the way. “Today is not the day for this.”

“You’re right, Virgil. If anything, it’s a day for indulging in this wondrous weather instead of lying around and whining. In fact, what do you say I go crack open a window or two and get some fresh air in here, hm?”

Janus slyly walked over to one of the larger windows and reached to open it only to be stopped by a chorus of irritated shouting from the others.

“No!”

“Fuck off!”

“Absolutely not!”

“Please don’t!”

“I swear I’ll kill you!”

Janus obediently stepped away from the window with a grin, chuckling to himself at the others extreme reactions.

“Alright, alright, if you all insist. You can’t blame me for having a little fun here, though.”

“Well, if you’re feeling so lively right now, perhaps you could be of some help and start working on some of the chores for us,” Logan said.

Janus tapped a finger to his mouth in a mocking display of faux consideration before replying.

“No, that sounds like too much work. I think I’ll just go back outside and soak up a little more sun, if it’s all the same to you.” Janus gave the others another smile and a lazy wave before heading back to his basking spot on the back porch, enjoying the warm weather for all its worth.

taglist:

@britt-ish123 @rougeside4 @oatmealdaydreams @holdnarrytight @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie

@nico-the-overlord @can-i-take-a-stab @keitaisghost @new-zee-land @yuckypuppie

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

Aww! It’s nice to see Patton conquering his fear of spiders for a change.

Creepy Crawly

pairings: platonic moxiety

summary: Virgil's been noticeably worried all day, and Patton hopes to figure out what he can do to help. He certainly didn't expect to get a little scared himself.

tags/warnings: spiders, more like just the one spider

word count: 1812

It had been a quiet day for Patton so far. Breakfast and lunch went by without a hitch, with the rest of the sides either getting along or at least pretending they did. It was easy for simple conversations to turn into heated arguments lately, so it was nice for today to pass as peacefully as this.

As relaxed as things had gone today, Patton still couldn’t help but notice something that he couldn’t quite shake. Despite the lack of any real crisis or conflict today, Virgil had been awfully stressed ever since he came downstairs this morning for breakfast. Well, more stressed than he usually was. He was weirdly high strung all day, always tensely circling the apartment like he was keeping an eye out for something. Virgil didn’t say what was wrong, only really responding with a muttered “don’t worry about it” anytime Patton asked.

It was… concerning to say the least, but what could he do? It was clear that whatever the problem was, Virgil wasn’t going to bring it up.

Patton couldn’t just let it be, though. Not if it was bothering his kiddo.

Virgil was at the kitchen table when Patton approached him, sitting as still as a statue. His eyes were darting frantically around the room, almost not even realizing that Patton was there at first and jumping when he finally noticed him.

“Hey there kiddo,” Patton started, one of his hands outstretched to sooth him before awkwardly falling back to his side. “Sorry to spook ya there, I was just wondering if I could do anything to help you feel better. I mean, I know you’re probably not feeling too good right now and everything.”

Virgil sighed and sat back in his chair. “It’s nothing, really. Just dealing with something right now.”

“Well, can I do anything to help?”

Virgil chuckled at that, like Patton had just made a joke without realizing it. “No, not really.”

“Oh.”

Patton fidgeted with the sleeves of his cat hoodie for a moment before brightening up again. “Well, can I get you something to eat at least? I know a cookie fixes everything!”

“Sure, I guess so.” Virgil replied, offering a barely noticeable grin.

Patton beamed back at him before heading to the counter in search of the offered snack.

“How about some milk to go with it?” Patton offered. “I’m sure it’ll help to sweeten the deal!”

He heard Virgil let out a slight chuckle again behind him, and he couldn’t help but turn slightly to hopefully catch a glimpse of one of his rarely-seen genuine smiles.

Virgil’s face froze in an instant when he turned to look back at Patton. The smile vanished as quickly as it came, and was replaced with an intensely focused stare directed entirely on him.

“Uh, what’s the matter, Virgil? You alright?”

“Don’t move.”

“What was that?”

Virgil got up from his seat, steadily stalking towards Patton without even blinking. “Don’t. Move.”

Patton obediently froze, mostly because he was too confused to do anything else. What was going on? Was Virgil upset? Why was he making that face?

“Um, I don’t-”

“Shut up and hold still.”

There were only a few inches of space between them now, with Virgil all but trapping Patton against the counter and leering way closer than he usually preferred to get to anyone. He slowly reached for Patton’s shoulder, and Patton could only close his eyes in anticipation for whatever this was.

What was this anyway? A hug, maybe? Virgil never really gave hugs before, but what else would he-

“Gotcha.”

Patton opened his eyes at that, still expecting to see Virgil looming over him and was surprised with how quickly he had backed away in the few seconds that Patton wasn’t looking. He was standing back at the table now and looking much more relaxed as he muttered something under his breath. For a moment Patton thought Virgil was still talking to him, until he noticed that his focus was on something in his hands instead.

“Hey Virgil? What uh, what was that just now?”

Virgil looked back up at him for a moment, awkwardly clutching whatever he was holding closer to his chest. “Look, I know that was weird, but just forget about it, alright?”

“Whatcha got there?”

“You really don’t wanna know.”

“Yes I do! You’ve been acting weird all day and it’s been getting me all kinds of worried about you! If whatever you’ve got there is the reason you were so stressed out earlier, I wanna know about it.”

Virgil looked away for a moment, nervously chewing his lip. “Alright, fine. Whatever. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he sighed, before finally opening his hands and letting Patton see.

It was a spider. A huge, hairy, terrifying spider. A spider that was very real and very alive, currently twitching around in Virgil’s hands and flooding Patton’s nerves with electric fear from each tiny and unpredictable movement it made. It could jump on him, it could bite him and hurt him, it could even get away and hide in Patton’s room to haunt him, which only made sense since spiders really were the stuff of nightmares as far as he was concerned.

“He sneaked out of my room this morning,” Virgil explained. “I’ve been looking for him all day, I was getting kind of worried that Roman or Remus might have killed it.” Virgil’s eyes flicked up to Patton’s for a moment, but Patton barely registered it past the fear-induced haze he was under. “He uh… he was on your shoulder. Just now. That’s where I found him.”

Patton took a step back until he was fully pressed against the kitchen counter. It had been on his shoulder? That thing was on him and he didn’t know about it? It could have killed him, it could have-

“Hey, it’s not like he bites or anything,” Virgil hurriedly added. “He’s actually pretty friendly, I think he just thought you guys were buddies or something.”

Patton tried his best to calm down. Okay, so Virgil said it was friendly. It wouldn’t hurt him or anything if it was friendly to him, right? Right???

Virgil gently set the spider on his own shoulder, letting it wander up into his hair where it settled back down like a bird in its nest. Patton could only watch in equal parts terror and awe. How was Virgil so relaxed right now? A spider just crawled all over him and into his hair, Patton usually has nightmares about that sort of thing happening! Then again, Virgil probably doesn’t. He had always really liked spiders, for whatever reason, and if he had been that concerned about his (apparently pet) spider, then there must be something about them that Patton wasn’t seeing.

“This is exactly why I didn’t wanna say anything,” Virgil groaned, hunching in on himself. “I knew you’d freak out if I told you there was an escaped spider on the loose somewhere, that’s why I tried to find him before anyone else did.”

“That’s uh, that’s nice of you, kiddo.” Patton managed to choke out, trying his best not to focus on the spider still in Virgil’s hair. “Sorry if I kinda overreacted there. I’m sure that it wouldn’t really hurt me on purpose or anything, but I just can’t help but get a little nervous around them.”

“Honestly, I’m kind of impressed you didn’t faint or anything,” Virgil joked. “Last I remember you went catatonic over some patterned curtains, so I was sure you’d lose it over the real thing.”

Patton shrugged, not able to really defend himself from that one. Spiders were just so scary to him; he couldn’t help but freeze up or flinch when he was around them. He really needed to get over this fear of his, spiders weren’t as dangerous as his mind convinced him they were.

“Maybe I could… “ Patton started, ignoring the lurch of panic in his chest that was screaming at him to run run run. “Maybe I could try to hold him? If that’s okay with you, I mean. Just so I can get used to him and everything. You said he doesn’t bite, right? That he’s friendly and all of that?”

Virgil blinked at him for a moment before responding. “Uh, yeah. He’s really chill, he just likes napping with people. You know you don’t really have to hold him if you don’t want to.”

“No, I know, I just wanna see if that can make it less scary for me.”

“Promise you won’t drop him or throw him or anything?”

Patton let out a nervous chuckle. “I’ll try my best as long as he doesn’t scare me too much.”

“…Alright, then. If you’re sure.”

Virgil reached a hand up into his hair with a sigh, where he easily grabbed the spider and delicately placed it in Patton’s trembling hands.

The spider was so much bigger now that he was holding it. This thing was hiding on his shoulder earlier and he didn’t even notice it? It was nearly the size of his palm, how could it be so sneaky?

The spider didn’t look like it minded that Patton was holding it. It nestled in and lay still in his trembling hands, like it was getting ready to go to sleep.

“Oh yeah, he definitely likes you,” Virgil said. “You’re doing really well, by the way.”

Patton let out a shaky laugh at that. If someone had told him that he would be voluntarily holding a gigantic spider like this without completely panicking, he’d probably have laughed in that person’s face. It just wasn’t something he thought was possible yet here he was, letting a spider make itself comfortable with him while he tried his darndest to do the same.

Up close like this, it was weirdly almost even cute, in a nightmare inducing way. It stared up at him with giant eyes that looked like they could belong on a stuffed animal, and its fluffy skin brushed against his palm like it were the soft fur of a tiny dog. It could probably still bite him if it wanted to, but then again, so could a dog, and right now it wasn’t moving all over the place faster than his eyes could follow, so he could maybe even convince himself it was just a fake decoration.

Not like that would have made it any better. He still tenses up at the thought of Virgil’s curtains.

But hey, Patton was able to get used to Remus, surely a fluffy little spider like this one couldn’t be that much tougher for him to learn to deal with.

“Does he have a name?”

“Marcus.”

Patton nervously smiled down at his hopefully soon-to-be new buddy, cautiously petting it with his thumb while Virgil watched.

“Hi there, Marcus. You know, I’m not as scared of you as I thought I’d be.”

Marcus gave him a lazy wave with one of its many limbs before finally dozing off.

taglist:

@keitaisghost @rougeside4 @britt-ish123 @holdnarrytight @new-zee-land

@can-i-take-a-stab @nico-the-overlord @oatmealdaydreams @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

Cuuute! Love their silly dynamic.

Enough For Now

pairings: platonic dukexiety

summary: a playful argument between Virgil and Remus accidentally reopens some old wounds between the two of them, but it also offers a chance at mending them properly.

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, implied/referenced fight pre-aa

word count: 1254

A/N: i probably could have/should have done more with this one but I'm tired lol. hope it's still a decent enough read.

He didn’t mean it. Remus knows Virgil didn’t mean anything by it. Of course he didn’t, he was only joking. They had both been bouncing quips, jabs, and banter back and forth for a while now, and he could tell Virgil was enjoying it by the subtle upturn of his lips and the quiet spark in his eyes. He was playing, they were both only playing.

So why was he so bothered by this?

Remus had playfully prompted him during their verbal spar when it happened.

“Oh, you wound me so! What could I have done to make you hate me like this?” Remus teased, theatrically placing a hand over his heart as if it had been run through.

Virgil’s lips peeled away from his teeth in faux disgust. “You exist.”

It was a good thing that Patton intervened at that point, telling them both to knock it off and get ready for dinner, because Remus had found himself at a true loss for words.

You exist.

He didn’t need to pretend he was hurt now, the ache in his chest made it all too clear to him that something had indeed struck at his heart.

Because the fact is, it had been the truth. Virgil had left, even when he promised they’d stick together until the end. And it had to be something Remus had done. Of course it was, he was messy and scary and everything wrong.

And deep down, Remus knows it hadn’t been just one thing he did wrong, or one line he crossed. It was just him, everything about him. Virgil left because of what Remus is, and what he is is awful.

He exists, and that was bad enough.

Remus ate in silence that day, keeping his head down and his eyes away from Virgil.

He didn’t expect to hear a knock at his door not even an hour after dinner was over. Firstly, because he never locked his door and always encouraged everyone to just barge in if they were looking for him. Secondly, because no one ever sought him out in the first place. Why would they? There was nothing good or desirable about him. If there was, people wouldn’t be leaving him all the time.

Virgil wouldn’t have left him at all.

He opened the door with a sigh and nearly closed it again when he saw Virgil standing outside it.

For whatever reason, he didn’t.

“What?” he asked instead.

“Look, I know I went a little too far earlier, so I just wanted to see how you were doing. And maybe apologize,” Virgil said, muttering the last part under his breath.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

Virgil hunched his shoulders. “Because it was a dick thing for me to say, and I know I upset you. I didn’t mean any of it, really.”

“Not why you’re apologizing, even though it’s still weird. Why do you care how I’m doing?”

Virgil ran a hand through his hair, looking back down the hall for a moment. “If we’re gonna have this conversation, can we at least not have it out in the hall? I uh, I got a lot I need to say here.”

Remus obliged, stepping back and letting Virgil into his room while decidedly overlooking how long it’s been since he’d last been in here with him.

“So what is it, then?” he asked, closing the door with a pointed slam.

“I’m not the best at this, alright?” Virgil huffed. “But I just still feel really shitty about it, and also about… how we kinda ended things back then.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play dumb right now. It was a mess and you know it, the whole thing sucked.”

Remus crossed his arms and gave him a glare. “Was it? I think it went pretty smoothly.”

Virgil only glared back. “We both know it didn’t.”

“It did for you.”

The “and not for me” went unspoken, but it was still heard loud and clear by both of them.

“It didn’t, though,” Virgil sighed, inching nearer to him. “At least, not completely.”

“But you still left anyway. It couldn’t have been all that bad.”

“I didn’t have too much of a choice, okay?” he barked. “It was all or nothing, one or the other. Stay in the dark with you or be in the light with them. I couldn’t do both. I wasn’t allowed to, not back then.”

“And you made your choice.”

“Yeah. I did. And most nights I only really think about what I had to lose in the process.”

Remus smiled ruefully at him. “You mean you celebrate.”

Virgil’s face fell as he took another step closer. “No. I mourn.”

Remus wasn’t sure if he wanted to let Virgil close the distance or not. If he wanted to run or not. If he was awake or not. He wasn’t even all too sure he remembered things right anymore.

“Remus, I know I fucked up,” he started, finally getting close enough for it to be considered too close. “I can’t undo it no matter how much either of us want me to, and I’m pretty sure this regret’s gonna kill me one day because of that. I just wanna make it right with you, okay? Today was a bad way to start, but I really do want to try and fix this if I can.”

Remus’ heart was thundering in his ears, his nails digging into his arm tightly enough to leave marks. Virgil left, he left and he never apologized. He hates him, he hates him because he exists and that’s bad enough. He doesn’t-

“Hey, now…” Virgil’s voice drifted back to him, gently nudging his shoulder and looking at him so softly that for a moment it looked like he cares. “Hey.  Don’t do that, okay?”

“Do what?”

Virgil gave him a small almost-smile. “Get stuck in your head like that. I’ve done that way too much and let me tell you, it sucks. Just… just be here.”

Remus forced his arms back to his sides, slowly unclenching his hands from the fists he had balled them into and using the stiffness of it to ground himself.

“And do what?” he asked, offering a cautious grin of his own.

“Well, maybe we could watch a movie or something?” he started. “I know we’ve got a lot of horror movies to catch up on.”

“You hate those,” Remus scoffed.

Virgil chuckled. “Only when I don’t have someone else around to watch them with.”

The next smile he made was much more certain, as was the one that was returned to him.

“So what do you think?” he continued. “I mean, we’ve got all night, and there’s plenty of stuff to watch.”

“Only if you don’t pretend you’re clinging to me when you get scared and you actually own up to it.”

“Will you keep laughing every time someone dies?”

Remus flashed him a knowing smile. “Duh.”

“Then I’ll keep on being not scared during the movie.”

“Fine by me.”

It didn’t take long for them to set up the first of several horror movies, watching them together in a gaggle of limbs under a shared blanket while Remus laughed and Virgil didn’t jump at the scarier scenes, and in no time it felt as if nothing had happened between them at all, and for just this moment they were just the Duke and Anxiety enjoying each other’s company again.

And for now, that on its own was good enough.

taglist:

@keitaisghost @rougeside4 @britt-ish123 @new-zee-land @nico-the-overlord

@can-i-take-a-stab @oatmealdaydreams @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie @yuckypuppie