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edupunkn00b · 28 days ago

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Go Back. Move On. Repeat.

Logan would do anything to fix the mistakes of the past. Anything to bring Virgil a peaceful night's sleep. Anything to take away the pain.

Anything.

Written for @tsspromptmonthevent's Sleepy Bean Fanfic Café, for @amateurmasksmith. Prompt: analogical, QPR-style canon-verse time travel, anything but crack or hurt/no comfort. Mutual pining, childhood best friends. If possible 5 & 1, & time loops, y’all are the experts, so feel free to be creative! -

The first night Virgil appeared at his bedside, black shadows stretched half-way down his face, Logan had simply peeled back his covers and patted the mattress next to him. Virgil had leapt in, hood still pulled down to his eyes, and curled into Logan's embrace.

"Shadowling?" he'd murmured, tightening his arms around him. "Have you had a nightmare?"

Virgil nodded his head, hands gripping Logan's pajama sleeves with such strength Logan heard two stitches pop.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Virgil shook his head, just as fervently.

Humming, Logan nodded his assent. Even in the safety of his room, where logic and fact and truth would tamp down on even the most fantastical of Virgil's fears, putting words to the images of a fresh nightmare could have deleterious effects.

"Very well," Logan had said softly. He pulled the covers up over Virgil's shoulders. "Would you rather I left the light on?"

Safe in his arms, Virgil had already fallen back to sleep. Settling back against the pillows, Logan closed his eyes and whispered. "Goodnight, Shadowling."

The second night, Virgil trembled in his arms, breath hitching as he fought back a sob.

Logan pushed, carefully. "Are you quite certain you would not benefit from sharing at least part of your dream?" He did not need to say aloud that the repeat nature of this nightmare seemed to be his anxiety's own way of raising some sort of issue Thomas—and therefore all of them—needed to work through.

Virgil looked up at him, unshed tears glittering in the low light. "You…" He looked away, burying his head under the covers. "I dreamt we were back there."

Heart caught in his throat, Logan remained silent and listened. "Like… like after the video we started. When…" He peeked out, shadow covering his cheeks. "The Guys and Dolls video. The one… You know…"

"Oh, Virgil…" Logan held him close, brushing back his hair. "We're all here and safe," he said gently, the words carrying a special weight in his room. "We're never going back there," he promised. "Never again."

"I know," Virgil nodded, holding tight as though no-one had informed his hands that Logan would remain by his side. "I know."

The third night, Logan was waiting for him. Arms curled tightly around Virgil as he slept, Logan lay awake all night, replaying the events of that day—well, days and weeks—in his mind. Patton's tears. The phone call. Virgil's panic attack.

Thomas' breakdown.

It had taken Janus a week to convince Roman to even open his door and it was months before he would even attempt to influence Thomas' decisions again. Disguised as his brother, Remus had stepped in, and Janus had had to work overtime to keep him sufficiently reined in so that Thomas could continue his livelihood and create enough to meet his financial obligations.

More than a year passed before Virgil would listen to him, let alone heed any of his advice.

The more he considered the events that had led to their near destruction, the greater Logan's conviction there was something else he could have done. If he'd tried harder, Logan was certain he could have stopped Thomas from speaking to his ex. He could have found another channel for Patton's broken heart, which would then have permitted Roman another mechanism to be their hero. With enough planning and effort, Logan could have prevented The Incident.

If he'd tried harder, he could have kept Virgil's trust.

Over the past seven years, through effort and patience and consistency, they'd finally gotten to where they were now. Virgil trusted him again, perhaps even more than he ever had.

But what if he'd never lost that trust in the first place? What if none of them had needed to fight back from the brink as they had?

The next morning, after ensuring Virgil had eaten and was safely occupied with a small trip in the Imagination with the others, Logan returned to his room and locked the door.

He approached his bookshelves and pulled down the books in the precise order. A Wrinkle in Time. The Midnight Library. Letting out a slow breath, he pulled down the last, This Is How You Lose the Time War.

The wall next to him shuddered and a tall thin strip cut through the plaster and wood. Bright light spilled out and Logan set the books down on his bed and approached. Pushing firmly on either side of the crack, he widened it until he could fit through. Peering in, he confirmed he'd found the correct moment.

His past self stood in his usual spot, past Virgil by his side on the landing, past Thomas in his own corner. Logan's voice dominated the room. "Thomas, it is time to move on. I feel like I'm... Heh, listen to me, 'feel like...'"

From his new vantage point, this time Logan caught how Virgil winced under the weight of his sarcasm and it took effort to hold himself back from leaping right in without preparing. "I feel like I'm... nearly out of productive things to say on the matter. I'm just frustrated."

Just as Logan remembered, Patton chose that moment to join them. "Hi, Just Frustrated, I'm Sad. I mean...

Cliched adages sometimes held wisdom and it was through the lens of crystal clear hindsight that Logan now saw the thinly masked pain in Patton's eyes. This! This was the moment he could change!

He took a deep breath and leapt in. "Patton?" he asked, truly giving the Moral side his attention. "Are you.." Gravity and entropy push-pulled him, fighting his effort to change the past. "Are you quite alright?" he finally managed.

"What?" Patton asked, eyes darting between him and Virgil. Avoiding Thomas'. "Of—of course I'm alright. I'm Patton!" he said, smile sufficiently bright to see from space.

"Yes," Logan agreed, glancing over at Virgil and Thomas. He played with his hoodie strings, but watching their interaction. Thomas had moved closer, peering closely at Patton. "You said you were… sad."

"Ha! I did! Slip of the tongue, there, Kiddo," Patton laughed, thin and brittle.

"Pat?" Thomas said, sitting down and tugging Patton's hand until he joined him. "Buddy, I know how I'm feeling and you…"

"Aw, Kiddo…" Patton pulled him into a long hug. "What's got you down?"

"'Never trust a hug,'" Virgil muttered. "'It's just a way to hide your face.'"

"Fantastic Doctor Who reference, but first…" Logan refocused on why he was there. "Patton," he said, overusing his powers a bit. "Patton, you are crying."

"Wha—I'm not—"

Thomas pulled back and searched Patton's eyes. Tears sparkled in his lashes. "Pat?"

Roman popped up. "I've got it! Thomas, you write down all of your thoughts and feelings in an eloquent letter and deliver it to him in a basket full of his favorite things."

"Oh?" Patton scrubbed at his face, sniffling. "That… that might be nice. Y'know…" He fidgeted with the velvety paws of his onesie. "To hear his voice again?"

Sitting up straight, Thomas radiated surprise as he looked between his Heart. And his Hero. "Yeah… Yeah, that's a good idea. I could—"

"WHOA, whoa, whoa... what?!" Virgil jumped into the center of the room. "You can't do that, Thomas!"

"He's been brainstorming all day and he has yet to come up with one productive, non-creepy idea." Logan's words spilled out on their own accord, the grooves of history too strong to fight.

"I'm not creepy, I'm joking, alright?" Roman sneered at him. "You just don't understand love."

His own anger layered over with his past self's reaction, fists at his sides. "I understand that it's—"

"He's right," Thomas interrupted, eyes still fixed on Patton's face. He'd begun to cry again, and Thomas was wiping his own tears away. "You just don't understand what it's like to love someone and to lose them."

Virgil's eyes on him were heavy and he couldn't quite force himself to meet them. "Thomas, no, this is categorically unwise. You—"

"Look at Patton!" Thomas cried. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks and they all felt the sharp cut of his pain. "I have to do something!"

Roman slid into the spot on Thomas' other side. "Why don't you call him?"

Virgil growled next to him, shaking his head. They exchanged a glance and Logan nodded, stepping closer.

But before he could find the words to dissuade Thomas from making quite literally the biggest mistake of his life, Thomas nodded. "Yeah," The scene replayed, the past repeating just as it had the last time. "Yeah, I should call him," he murmured, scrolling through his contacts until he'd found the right number and pressed Call.

The world collapsed onto itself and Logan found himself back in his room, the books still on his bed even as the crack was sealed as though it had never existed. He examined his memories, shaking his head. Everything played out the way it had in the past. The phone call, the meeting, the next failed date.

The hospital.

Dragging both hands down his face, Logan sighed then checked his watch. Barely ninety seconds had passed since he'd returned to his room.

He tried again.

...

"Look at Patton!" Thomas cried. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks and they all felt the sharp cut of his pain. "I have to do something!"

Roman slid into the spot on Thomas' other side. "Why don't you call him?"

"No!" Logan marched across the room and plucked Thomas' phone from his hand. He threw it to the floor, stomping on it. Glass and plastic crunched beneath his shoe.

"Logan! What are you doing?" Roman cried, shoving him away. "You are interfering!" he said, stooping down to scoop up the remains of Thomas' phone.

"Never fear, dear Thomathy!" Roman said, rising up with a gleaming phone in his hand. "What one part of your mind can destroy, another can repair. Here," he said, pressing the phone into Thomas' hands and casting narrowed eyes at Logan. "Call him."

Once again, Patton's room dissolved into black and Logan was alone in his room.

Logan tried again.

"It is illogical to call him when we have a full and complete understanding of why he broke up with us in the first place! Put down the ph—"

"Forcing him into a relationship with us will only lead to heartache and further pain. You must stop this, Thomas, you must—"

"Stop it! I must insist! It is unreasonable to believe that trying again will end in anything but—"

Logan failed. Over and over and over again.

Head in his hands, Logan sat on the edge of his bed. Perhaps he was focusing on the wrong moment to change.

He stood and reset the books. Then, centering his thoughts on a different exchange, he pulled them down once again.

A crack opened on the opposite wall and Logan peeked through. Patton was wearing his old grey cardigan, the proper one, not the onesie. He was smiling at Thomas, but had twisted his cardigan sleeves so tightly around his fingers they'd begun to turn white.

"… Virgil's room is where I have to go in order to heighten my anxiety." Thomas grinned excitedly at Patton. "I gotta think that your room is literally sunshine and rainbows.

Logan didn't need the vision of hindsight to see the panic washing over Patton's face. "Wha..." Remembering himself, he laughed. "I—" Eyes begging for support, he looked at the rest of them. "It's- It's not quite like that, uh..."

Thomas didn't see it. "Still, you're at the core of a lot of my happy feelings."

"I'm at the core of a lot of your feelings." Patton emphasized.

But Thomas wasn't listening. "Maybe going there and enhancing those happy feelings is what I need."

Virgil bounced on his toes, hoodie up. Logan met his gaze with a reassuring smile. "Everything will be okay," he whispered, then moved into the center of the room. "Thomas, I must object. This is a terrible idea in your current state."

"He's right!" Roman cried from across the room.

"I am?" Logan parroted. "I mean," he said, shaking his head and turning to face him. "I know I'm right, but you agree with me?"

"Yes, I'm just as surprised as you are, Erlenmyer Task," he said with a dismissive wave as he moved to Thomas' side. "Why waste your time wallowing in the past when you can be thinking about your future?"

"My future?" Thomas asked as Patton's face lit up next to him.

"All you need do is seize it!" Roman said, grabbing at the air like he could pluck dreams from the ether. "Call him!"

Virgil stood, feet frozen to the carpet, shaking his head. "Guys, this is a really bad idea…"

"Oh, he's right, Thomas!" Patton continued as though Virgil hadn't spoken. "Your future!" Patton and Roman grinned at each other and the rest of their plan spread through the Mindscape. "Your future with him!"

"Wait, Thomas, no!" Logan began, but Thomas had already pulled out his phone.

"My future," Thomas said, tapping at the screen before putting it up to his ear. "It's ringing!" he cheered.

And the world went to black.

"Dammit!" Logan roared, kicking his desk chair. It rolled away and hit the foot of his bed, spinning ineffectually. Just like him. Forcing calm, Logan closed his eyes and reviewed the new past few years. It hadn't worked. If anything, he'd managed to make everything worse. He looked around his room.

Gone was the extra chair by his desk, the extra nightlights he'd installed missing. The shelves were filled with more books, but the little nook he'd set up for him and Virgil to read together sat cold and desolate. No pillows, no blankets.

His heart heavy, Logan felt the loss of his old closeness with Virgil like a wound. Aching and not quite closed over.

He had to try again. But perhaps, this time, he might seek out help.

Janus' door was no longer next to his. For that matter, neither was Remus' Logan stood staring at the blank spot on the wall between his and Virgil's rooms for an unreasonably long time. Finally, he walked to the end of the hall and turned into the shadows. Remus' door, dimmer than usual, was the first he saw, followed closely by Lucas'. At the very end of the darkened hallway lay Janus', lightly glowing, the only source of light in this section of the Mindscape.

Logan knocked and a surprised voice answered. "Can I help you, Logic?"

"Well…" His formal address unnerved him, but he carried on, straightening his tie before answering. "Yes, I thougth that would be obvious given the fact I've come to see you, J—" His mouth snapped shut. "Dj—" he tried again. Realization hit and he stood a little straighter. "Deceit."

Janus opened the door, eyebrow raised. "Now that was interesting," he purred. "Do come in, my dear Logic. It's a pleassure to have you."

Taking his invitation at face value, Logan nodded his head and moved inside. Janus' room was colder than it usually was. Though, Logan had never actually gone to see Janus in his room before he'd been accepted, so perhaps this was how it always had been. He shivered, looking over the cold-blooded Side and frowned. "Thank you," he said, taking a seat where Janus indicated. "Deceit, I've…" He pursed his lips, loathe to admit a failing, but the ache of missing memories—and the sight of Janus settling a heated blanket over his lap in his own room—drove him forward. "I've made a mistake and I believe I need your help to repair what I've done."

"Really…" Janus murmured, sitting back in his seat, gloved fingers steepled before him. "Do tell. How has the great and mighty Logic erred?"

He supposed he deserved that. Swallowing back a retort, Logan told Janus everything. He told him of Virgil's nightmares, watching his snake eye expand and contract with hidden emotion. He told him of his plan to prevent The Incident and how he'd only succeeded in exacerbating the situation.

He spoke until he'd run out of words and sat there, quietly watching Janus think.

"So your plan has been to counter Thomas'—and Patton's—emotional need to connect with this man with an appeal to Logic?" he finally said, one eyebrow cocked.

"Well, yes." Logan blinked back at him, uncertain where he hadn't been clear. "And it failed."

Laughing, Janus shook his head. "Of course it failed. You're fighting emotion with ration and thought." Waving his hand, Janus conjured a small tea tray and pushed it closer to Logan. "Youngest pours, you know."

Accepting his task with a frown, Logan poured Janus' cup and then his own. "So how do I—"

Smiling over his tea, Janus raised both eyebrows.

"We," Logan corrected, suppressing an eyeroll. "How shall we fight an emotional reaction we know is doomed to fail?"

"My dear Logic," he purred as he lifted his cup. "We fight fire with fire."

Back in his own room, Logan faced the glowing crack in his wall, Janus at his side. "Are you quite certain of this?"

"Of coursse I am," Janus murmured, tugging at each of his gloves in turn. "Are you certain you can maintain your role?"

He stared at the empty spot where Virgil's chair usually sat, a metaphysical manifestation of the emptiness in his chest. "I am certain," he said and stepped through.

Logan held his tongue and listened as Thomas excitedly explained his idea to Patton. "Maybe going there and enhancing those happy feelings is what I need."

"Honestly, that does make sense," Roman quickly interjected. Logan scanned the room. There was no sign of Janus anywhere. "…everything in the past that you've cherished. I mean, it is PEAK proud papa."

Logan's eyes widened as he stared at Roman—not, Roman, though, but Janus. His eyes flicked down to the bit of black peeking out from beneath Roman's princely white tunic and Roman-Janus winked at him.

Virgil's knee bounced and he gnawed at his thumbnail, watching them all like they were a horror movie. Patton was equally unconvinced.

Ordinarily, any time Patton and Virgil agreed, Logan might be inclined to heed their wishes. But he'd seen the world where they remained here, trying to work this out. He stepped into his role. "Patton, don't you want to help Thomas move on?"

Patton blinked at him in surprise. "Well, yeah. Of course. I would love that, but I..."

"Good," he said, cutting off his objection and fighting to ignore the buzz of anxiety Virgil was barely suppressing. "Then it's decided."

The fuzzy veil of Patton's room fell over him, dulling his thoughts and pulling him into a haze of nostalgia. Despite his current artistic pursuits, the vast array of memorabilia from Thomas' education was solid proof of his continued acknowledgement of the importance of genuine learning. Lost in an unsubtle sense of vindication, it barely noticed Janus' slip when he described how difficult it had been to keep Thomas in denial during his teen years.

And it took him an unconscionably long time for him to notice Thomas'—and Virgil's—growing distress.

"Virgil?" he asked quietly, hand reaching for him nearly of its own accord. "Are you okay?"

Remaining silent, Virgil merely shook his head.

Glancing back at Roman-Janus, Logan caught his tiny nod as he played tunelessly on Thomas' old recorder.

No. He couldn't leave now. Not with Virgil so upset.

He began to explain. "...Nostalgia can have an adverse effect on their overall mood. It can sometimes cause them to look at the past compared to the present period in their lives and cause them to ruminate even more on how their present situation "pales in comparison", however incorrect that outlook may be."

Logan nodded hopefully as Thomas' expression shifted. Surely he could see Virgil's distress. "Their Anxiety worsens." Perhaps he could convince everyone to leave. Perhaps this time basking in the halcyon glow of Patton's keepsakes had been sufficient to steer Thomas away from attempting to rekindle am old flame that had been rightfully extinguished. Perhaps—

Thomas peered closely at his Anxious Side. "Virgil, that's not happening, right?" Virgil's tempest tongue spilled out. "No."

Roman-Janus stared back at Logan, slapping Virgil's own hand over his mouth before the truth followed.

'You must be ready to play your part, Logic. No matter what.'

No. There was still a chance.

It took every scrap of control Logan had to not simply grab Virgil's hand and sink out together with him. He needed the others to leave, as well. "I'm going to take that as a yes. Come on. Let's go."

They simply needed direction. "It's time to end this experiment right—"

"Wait, wait, wait, we can't go now!" Roman-Janus cried, the impersonation near-peefect. "We haven't even started reminiscing about all the Broadway shows that he's seen!"

Logan stared as his command of the room slipped through his fingers.

"And all these old photos! Look at this!"

No no no no no.

Panic seized him as he tried yet another appeal to reason, but Roman-Janus interrupted with an uncalled-for ad hominem attack.

Logan exploded.

"All of this because Patton can't let go of one person?"

Everyone froze. Patton looked close to tears. "Logan, can you stop? Please?"

Roman-Janus raised an eyebrow.

Now.

Logan sank down in an exaggerated huff worthy of any of Thomas's theatrical accolades. He stood in his spot in the common room, arms wrapped tightly around his middle.

Perhaps his emotional outburst hadn't been entirely for show.

It was all up to Janus now.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut, the look of betrayal in Virgil's eyes as he's left nearly too much to bear. He could always return, feigning recalcitrance or regret.

"Or you could just hang out behind the couch," Remus' voice tore him from his reverie and Logan spun around.

He lay sprawled on the kitchen counter, pushing back his cuticles with the spikes on his Morningstar. His clothes had changed, rather, we're how he used to appear before he'd revealed himself to Thomas. Eyeshadow darker and lips lined in green, he appeared both more alluring and more dangerous. Thigh high leather boots and shorts covering fishnet replaced his leggings. His green sash dingy, mossy and dipped in what appeared to be blood.

"Do..." Logan could hardly believe he was prepared to take advice from Remus. "Do you really think that could work?"

Remus' grin sent a shiver down Logan's back, all teeth and entirely too pleased to have an audience. "There's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Thomas' stood with his phone to his ear as Logan rose up partway and crouched behind the sofa. Damn, he was too late! He gripped the back, preparing to push up just as Thomas' ex answered.

Virgil interrupted them all with his tempest voice. "Hang up!"

And Thomas did.

Logan sat behind the couch, listening as emotion fought emotion. Janus was right.

"Now, Roman," Patton's emphasis on his name led Logan to believe Patton finally realized who stood in Roman's spot. "Lying is wrong."

The Mindscape shuddered as Thomas took Patton's side. "Yeah, that's a side of myself that I would prefer not to feed into."

And Roman-Janus let everything out, arguing the case for pursuing Thomas' ex as though he really believed they should. Pushing, prodding, eggin him on.

But Virgil stood strong. "GET RID OF IT!" he shouted, Thomas' eyes glued to his ringing phone. "GET RID OF THE PHONE NOW!"

Turmoil settling, the Mindscape stilled and the remaining Sides shared stories of the early days of their relationship. Soft and calm and bittersweet, Logan nodded to himself, preparing to sink back down to leave the more emotional Sides to work out these… feelings.

Then Patton told a joke, his laugh sharp and forced.

That was unnecessary, Patton.

"You know you don't have to do that, Patton," Thomas said gently and Logan's eyes widened, listening intently.

"What?" he asked, hiding behind a laugh.

Patton you needn't hide your feelings with humor. We know you are more than simply Happiness.

"Try to... " Thomas' voice grew more certain. "You don't have to hide what you're feeling with jokes. It's okay to be sad sometimes."

"I'm never sad! I'm your happy Pappy Patton! Just a fun-loving father figure figment."

Logan said aloud, voice overlapping with Thomas' "Falsehood."

Patton paused. Had he heard him? "You… you said yourself. I'm at the core of a lot of your happy feelings."

Thomas' mouth moved but Logan's words poured out. "You're at the core of a lot of my feelings... Happy or otherwise."

After that, Logan listened, the buzz of Thomas hearing him so completely slow to fade. "When I was younger, my uncle used to take me fishing…"

The rest of Thomas' story faded and Logan found himself and Janus standing together in his room. "Did… did it work?" he asked Janus.

Janus smoothed down his cloak, the yellow bright and pristine. He flexed his gloved fingers and eyed Logan. He wondered what parts of his appearance had changed. "What is my name?" he asked.

Logan smiled. "Your name is Janus."

Nodding slowly, Janus turned to examine Logan's room. Bright fairy lights glowed from every corner and a lush, purple throw was neatly folded over one of the desk chairs. A matching indigo throw sat on the other chair. The reading nook was filled with pillows and blankets in every color. Fewer books but more journals. A larger telescope was aimed outside the window.

"Yes, Logan, I believe it did."

Their heads swiveled toward a brushing knock at the door. "Come—come in," Logan said, smiling when Virgil poked his head inside, sparkly purple shadow filled in below his eyes.

"Shadowling," Logan whispered and Virgil smiled back at him.

"There you both are!" He stepped inside and grabbed Logan's hand. "Come on, we're waiting for you!" he said.

A silly grin spreading over his face, Logan followed, stopping only when Virgil looked back over his shoulder at Janus. "You, too, Jay. Don't think you're getting out of snow day in the Imagination."

Janus blinked and Logan suspected his own memories of their reconciliation were filling in. "Well," Janus said, a crooked smile belying his sarcastic tone. "I suppose someone has to test the twins' new sauna."

"That's the spirit," Virgil shrugged. "I think."

Still, he smiled brighter than Logan could ever remember. Except… he could. A tiny, relieved smile when he spotted Logan first after their return from Patton's room. A grin when Roman woke up after Remus' introduction. Remus' introduction!?!

"You alright there, L?" Virgil asked, thumb rubbing little circles into the back of his hand as Janus led the way to the Imagination.

Cradling Virgil's hand between both of his own, Logan nodded. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I believe everything is alright."

#sanders sides #ts logan #ts virgil #ts janus #ts roman #ts remus #ts patton #c!thomas #canonverse #time travel #time loops #takes place years after and during Moving On Pts 1 & 2 #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #qpr analogical

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yujeong · 3 months ago

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Time was at a standstill. Vegas was holding his breath without noticing, and continued to hold it when he did - he was afraid of what would happen if he exhaled loudly enough to draw attention to himself. His gaze was shifting between Pete and the man who was standing before them in the doorway, blocking their entrance. Vegas had never seen him before, but even so, he recognized Pete in him enough to know who he was. A dangerous aura surrounded him. There was an edge to his presence that Vegas would only come across people of certain circles. He was a fighter. A muay khao. Pete's father. Shame coursed through Vegas' body, smearing his skin, settling in his lungs, rendering him speechless. I thought he was dead, he wanted to tell Pete if he could. He wanted to scream at him, I thought you killed him. Pete was the one who broke the stillness. As if awakened by something, he took a half-step back and made a motion with his arms, almost raising them to his chest, but not quite. In an instant, Pete reverted into the pet Vegas had been keeping at the safehouse, bound by handcuffs and afraid of his belt hitting flesh and drawing blood. A lump formed in Vegas' throat. "Have you stopped practicing? Your form is off." The uncanny similarities between Pete and his father appearance-wise didn't mean a thing when it came to their voices. Vegas shivered. Was this what Pete would sound like in a few decades? (Were these the condescending words he'd choose to spew? Was Pete going to embody his father? Was Vegas embodying his?) "What are you doing here?" Pete whispered. "They let me out for a few days, so I came here to collect some money. Imagine my surprise when I found out my offspring left the job someone found him worthy enough of doing to... do what exactly? Yaai didn't want to tell me." He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. Vegas didn't know what he was allowed to say. If he was allowed to say anything at all. "It's none of your business." "I'd say it very much is my business, as well as yaai's business who was dependent on the money you were making being some rich asshole's human shield." A choked sound scratched Vegas' throat. He didn't like getting reminded of Pete being the main family's bodyguard, even though he stopped being one mere months ago. Especially like this. That was the first time Pete's father stopped looking at his son and turned his head to look at Vegas. For a moment, there seemed to be recognition in his eyes. Did he know who Vegas was? Did he care? A snort came out of his mouth. He leaned on the door. "Oh, I see how it is." He laughed, scratched his neck. "I never expected you to whore yourself out for money. Tell me, is it preferable to the path I carved out for you?" Vegas could sense the disgust in his voice. He could also see it on Pete's face. He was too astonished to share it, but not enough to be unable to speak. "Khun, there has been some misunderstanding-" "Don't bother. I can recognize a faggot when I see one." Pete's movements were too fast for Vegas to stop him. A direct jab to the nose; his father fell like a pack of cards, groaning like a wounded animal. Surprisingly, no blood - Pete held back. Vegas didn't know what to think about that. "That was a pathetic attack, even for you." "Get up." "We're not in the ring, son." Pete growled. Vegas could see his hands trembling as he was keeping them in the air, maintaining an offensive stance. "That never stopped you before." "You were too young to understand what I was doing back then. What I was preparing you for." Pete was silent. "The world isn't kind. It'll fuck you over one way or another." He got up, spat on the ground. "You still haven't learned a thing. You're too old to afford being naive." He turned around, and without sparing a look at Pete again, said: "Now get the fuck out of my house." (For @musictooth, whose posts about Pete's father have reignited my passion for this specific concept and for @wretchedamaranth, whose comments on my writing are always lovely and precious ❤️)