#Pattangst

[rosesisupposes]

Fake fic title: You Never Have To Know

angst heart says this is about pining, and denial, and denial about pining

Patton who just keeps finding excuses to do favors for Logan

Making sure the group gives him the space he wants, finding books when they’re misplaced, being the one to step in and remind everyone about deadlines so it’s not always Logan being the ‘bad guy’

But Pat knows Logan doesn’t like feelings. And putting him in a situation where someone has feelings for him and he doesn’t return them? That would be forcing him to either be uncomfortable or cause pain

So Pat won’t say anything to Logan

But also, he knows that pining is painful

So he refuses to admit that he feels anything more than friendship for Logan

ask bait: send me a made-up fic title and I’ll tell you what I’d write to go with it

[ghosty-goos-asks]

((So no Pattangst?)) (He just cycles between Lion King and Monsters Inc, doesn’t he?)

(Pretty much, I think they're his favorites right now... - ☃🦁)

((No not this time. There will be cute moment later with Patton instead))

[rosesisupposes]

The Fear of Falling Apart

Part 6 of Another Goddamn Hero Story

read on ao3

Chapter Pairings: Familial Patmas; pre-Royality

Chapter Warnings: major character death; graphic violence; child abuse; child endangerment; allusion to human experimentation; manslaughter; child death; 

Word Count:  6,371

Taglist: @residentanchor​ @royally-anxious​ @bewarethegrammarpolice​   @jemthebookworm​ @arandompasserby​  @sparkly-rainbow-salt​ @astral-eclipse​​ @thelowlysatsuma​ @monsterinatophat @turtally-pawsome @um-yes-hi-hello @idkaurl @potestessemagishomosexualitatis @hawthornshadow

please read the warnings, y’all

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If he concentrated particularly hard, Patton could dimly remember his parents. He could remember some amount of warmth, some amount of softness. He was sure they’d loved him and his little brother. But Thomas has been only one year old and Patton three when they died and the brothers Sanders entered the foster care system of Harmony City.

When he was younger, Patton spent hours and days imagining who they could have been. Were they good people? Were they supers? Had they been heroes or villains or just civilians? He would never know. The foster home didn’t release records to children in the system until they aged out, or were adopted. And now, of course, any records were long gone.

Harmony City Foster Home was pretty decent as foster homes went. The bedrooms were all airy with big windows and not too cramped - Patton and little Tommy shared with two other sibling pairs. They each had their own bed and small dresser, and were encouraged to decorate and keep their own small possessions. Pat had a stuffed Pooh Bear that had come with him from their birthplace, and Thomathy had a matching Piglet. The tiny courtyard with its spindly trees became the Hundred-Acre Wood as Pooh and Piglet rambled and ran through, joined by other children their age. Leo, three years younger than Patton but twice as energetic, bounced and leapt around the yard as if he was made of rubber and spring, just like Tigger. Brittney was Rabbit, and she and Thomas shared the bond of being only a few months apart in age. Valerie was Kanga, of an age with Pat and the best at dispersing fights as she caught everyone’s attention with her shouts. And when Dahlia and Derionna joined the home within days of each other, and both latched on immediately to Valerie, they became known through their little community as Roo and RooToo.

Their crew of Hundred Acre Woods friends were only a small fraction of the children who lived at HCFH, though. Patton loved having so many friends his age and younger, but they were part of an unusually high spike in surrendered and orphaned children. Potential parents came in every day, but with such a high volume that some categories of children were adopted more quickly than others. The infants, for families who wanted to be part of a child’s whole life, or as much as possible. The charming but calm toddlers, who weren’t too shy but didn’t overwhelm. The quiet crayon artists who didn’t run away when approached.

The Parsons, the married couple who ran the home, had long since figured out that the Sanders brothers were a package deal. Once, they’d tried to convince the boys to sleep in the dorms with children their own ages.

Once.

After the third time in one night that Patton woke in a panic, convinced that something had happened to his brother, and they realized Tommy had yet to sleep a single wink as he kept checking the room for Patton, they realized it was far wiser to keep them together, and never allow them to be split up. Patton was grateful he’d never have to watch his little Thomathy be adopted without him. He couldn’t bear to think of how scared his brother would be, going off to a strange new home with people who didn’t know his favorite nursery rhymes, or his favorite color, or the best way to hug him when he was scared. But adopting two children at once was more of a burden than many potential parents wanted, particularly when there were so many children in need.

One of Patton’s first and strongest memories of the foster home was when he was five, sitting in the courtyard after a visitation day.

“Pattypattypattypatty!” a tiny voice cried, weaving through the many children outside. Valerie came barreling around a group of glaring ten-year-olds.

“Val! Hi!” Patton yelled back, grabbing her in a hug as she reached him. Roo and RooToo swung their legs over the side of a tiny wall, and Tigger and Piglet were off trying to climb a tree again.

“I got ‘DOPTED!” their Kanga announced, voice ringing and echoing off the walls.

“YOU DID?” Patton couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice.

“YES! Misser Jenkins! He’s my new papa!”

Patton swung her around, or tried to, but his legs weren’t quite built for carrying. They fell over on the threadbare grass, giggling.

“I’m gonna live with him, an’ Damon!” Val told Pat, her grin showing the gap in her teeth from her first lost tooth. “We’re gonna be brother and sister! And we’re adopted!”

Now the whole crew had come over, covering their friend in a puddle of affection. Dahlia was the first to run to the group of seven-year-olds to pull Damon over.

“‘Dopted?” she asked, evading the lisp that often made her too shy to speak.

The older boy smiled. Damon had never been part of the Hundred-Acre-Wood crowd, but they all knew him as an older brother already. He was tall for his age and constantly stood up for the younger kids when they got in an older kid’s way, but was always able to blend in with whatever group he ended up with.

“Yeah, it’s true,” he said, letting Dahlia tow him by the hand to their group. He smiled almost bashfully as he opened his arms to Valerie. “We’re gonna be sibs!”

She grinned and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Thomas came up besides Pat and grabbed his hand. “Does that mean you’re leaving?” he asked in a small voice.

“Yes, Tommy,” Patton answered for them. “They’re gonna leave, but they’re going home. They have a papa now. They’re gonna be siblings, just like us.”

Thomas smiled at that. “Oh! Okay. Will you come back an’ see us?”

Damon patted Valerie’s head a little awkwardly, not sure how to respond to the continued hug. “I hope so, if our new papa lets us.”

“Of course he’s gonna, they’re our friends!” Val assured him.

The Parsons eventually came to round them up, and helped Val and Damon pack over the the next two days of further visits and paperwork. At last, Pat held Thomas’ and Leo’s hands as Dahlia and Derionna clung to his legs and Brittney wrapped her arms and legs around him in a piggyback, and they all waved furiously as Val and Damon got into the car to go home. They weren’t the only children leaving that day. The semicircular driveway was filled with cars and bags, surrounded by smiling adults and children and the Parsons everywhere at once, getting papers, hugging toddlers goodbye, kissing infants’ cheeks, shaking parents’ hands, and wiping away happy tears.

It was usually the youngest who left. Parents love the idea of a baby, maybe a little toddler, but the older a child, the less likely they’d be adopted. Two children together was less likely, particularly if they were older. But when parents chose two at once, like Mr. Jenkins, they generally picked a boy and a girl. Nevermind the silliness of a binary, of course.

One of Patton’s second most detailed memories came just four months later.

They haven’t found a new Kanga, but they’d invited other children into their games. Even as they hoped that Val and Damon would get to visit soon, they still needed playmates. Patton missed Val too, but he was a bit busy at the moment.

“Cannot! ”

“Can too!”

“CanNOT!”

“Can TOO!”

“Hey!” Patton interjected, pulling Thomas and Derionna apart. “No yelling!” He imitated Miss Parson’s familiar pose, one hand on his hip and one finger shaking. It never failed to make his kiddos laugh.

“Pattyyy, she says I can’t make a new aminal for the Hundred-Acre Wood!”

“He can’t,” Derionna insisted, her fluffy hair flopping into her face as she shook her head. “You can’t jus’ make new ones! They don’t fit.”

“But I don’t wanna be just Piglet, I wanna be a turtle!”

Patton sighed, putting both hands on his newly-six-year-old hips. “Deri, Tommy wants to ‘magine. You should let him.”

“But then we won’ have a Piglet an’ we’ll have to explain why there’s a turtle an’ Teddy is a silly name for a turtle anyway!” Derionna insisted. The others were too occupied to pay attention - Brittney had discovered how to give piggyback rides and Dahlia was whooping with joy as she flew around the courtyard on his back as Leo watched, giggling.

Thomas pouted. “Why can’t I be both? It’s not like we gotta real Wood. Why can’t I be a turdle?”

“Cause it’s not part of the story,” Derionna scowled, and they were tussling, trying to push the other in the dust.

“Knock it off,” Pat insisted, pulling Thomas away. “Come on, Tommy. Stop it!”

He dragged his brother behind him, pulling him inside and away from the squabble. It was playtime on a nice day, so the halls were quiet as Patton marched Thomas to their room. If it hadn’t been so quiet, they might not have noticed the sounds coming from the Parsons’ sitting room.

The brothers peered in, seeing the flicker of a television. TV alone would have been intriguing, as it was largely forbidden to the children, but Ms. Parson was crying in her wife’s arms. It was the soft sort of cry, with just occasional hiccups, one that Patton could tell meant she’d been at it a while.

“Ms. and Miss?” he asked quietly. “Do you need extra hugs?”

Miss Parson looked up, her eyes also red. “Oh, Patton honey, shouldn’t you be outside?”

Thomas looked guiltily at the floor. “I was arguing so we came in.”

Now Ms. Parson sat up, too. “Oh, boys. I’m… I am so sorry.”

The Sanders brothers stared, confused, as she continued. “Come here. We were going to tell you all but we know you were close. Come on up.”

She muted the TV as the boys scrambled up onto the couch in between them, Thomas settling in Miss’s lap.

“You know we love you, and all the children here,” Ms. Parson started, smoothing Patton’s mess of curls. “We would never put you in harm’s way on purpose. We would never send you home to anyone we thought might even dream of hurting you.” Her fingers shook, though her voice remained even, barely.

“We… were wrong,” her wife continued. “An adopter lied, very well. Enough to get past all our checks. And we weren’t the only home fooled.”

Ms. took a deep breath. “Mr. Jenkins didn’t want to adopt children. He wanted... experiments. They caught him at it today.” She indicated the television screen. Patton turned to stare. There were superheroes on the screen. Normally he was overjoyed to see them, and he and the other children often waved to any who flew overhead. But something seemed off. Their faces were solemn, or pained, and they were outlined in the angry glow of fire. They were carrying what looked like children. But-

“He was trying to change them into supers,” Miss Parson said softly. “They don’t think he succeeded, but he… hurt them.”

Thomas was staring at the screen, transfixed. The banner read ‘Local mad scientist horrifies city with human experiments,’ as supers carried young forms with claws and fur growing at painful angles out of their skin. ‘Calls self Mystic Magician, charged with over 20 counts of child endangerment and murder.’ Other forms were covered in cloth, but oddly-shaped limbs and horns were still visible, backlit by the burning lab behind them.

Thomas spoke up quietly. “But Val and Dam’n went with Mr. Jenkins.”

Ms. Parson’s eyes spilled over again as she pulled Patton close. “Yes, love. I’m so sorry. We don’t know what happened to them yet, but we know that they were… there.”

Thomas struggled out of Miss’s lap, reaching for Patton. “Pat, they can come back now, right? You can make it better, like when I get a boo-boo?”

Patton hugged his brother, still staring at the TV footage. “I dunno, Tommy.”

Miss took a shuddering breath. “Sweeties, I… they won’t be able to come back. I… if they were lucky enough to... they would still be very hurt. They’ll go to a special school for children like them, where even if they’re hurt they might recover. Band-aids and kisses aren’t quite enough for this.”

“It’s a very nice school,” Ms. assured them. “Remember Jamahl, and how he made music out of everything?” Both brothers nodded, still clinging to one another. “He’s a super, and he went to this school for other supers. And they can take care of him in a way we can’t, and help him make even better music.”

“But- Val? Is she okay? Will we see her?” Pat asked.

Ms. Parson wrapped her arms around both of them. “I don’t know, sweetie. I wish I could tell you, but I don’t know.”

~~~~~~~~

D.R.E.A.M. Index #265333

Classification: Z.3.iii [Tertiary Tier Villain, Anomaly]

Name: The Mystic Magician

Status: INACTIVE

/////////Reason: Incarceration

/////////Sentence: Life in E.A.N.S.C.

Civilian Name: [CLEARANCE: CONFIDENTIAL] Andrew Jenkins

Affiliation: Villain

Partners/Sidekicks: N/A

Primary Foes: N/A

Powers: Alchemy/Transmutation

/////////Non-super abilities: PhDs in chemistry and biology and a MS in genetic science

Costume: Labcoat, purple gloves, safety goggles

Age: 36

Height: 5’6”

Pronouns: He/Him

H.E.A.R.T.S. Class of ‘00

Note: Convicted of 14 counts of first-degree murder and 20 counts of non-consensual human experimentation. Within those counts, 10 victims were under the age of 10; His stated intent was to make “everyone” super in some way, but he appears to have had little regard to their lives or personal desire to be super.

~~~~~~~~

After three years, they finally gained a new member of the group. The Hundred-Acre-Wood gang closed ranks and hearts after the news, shying away from new children and prospective adopters alike. Thomas’ nightmares got worse, and the Sanders brothers were moved into their own room in the aftermath, and if Thomas spent nearly every night clinging to his brother so that the shadows didn’t overwhelm them both… Miss and Ms. understood. Patton’s other kiddos knew they, too, could come sleep in his bedroom whenever the shadows were too dark or the nightmares too real.

When Patton was eight and Thomas six, a new boy came to the foster home. He was a cuddly nine-year-old who dealt with the small group’s barriers by grinning at them until they collapsed. Both Dahlia and Derionna were immediately taken with him, and Brittney squished his cheeks and grinned, and Leo proudly showed him how high he could jump, and Kenny was adopted as their Owl. Thomathy liked him too, but still couldn’t bear to have Patton leave his sight, no matter what. He’d learned to be scared of the world, anxious about others’ intentions and nervous about what was or wasn’t as it seemed. If there was one thing that Pat was now determined to do in life, it was to keep him safe, or as safe as he possibly could, and to be there whenever his brother needed him.

“Be careful, Tigger, you’ll hurt them!” Pat called as his tall friend ran by, Roo and RooToo giggling as they both clung to his back at once. “Look where you’re going!”

Leo nearly tripped over the edge of the pavement, but Kenny was there, catching the girls and keeping them all laughing. Thomas, though, had grabbed Patton’s arm, his fingers a vise.

“What is it, Tomma-llama?” Pat asked softly.

“They’re gonna get hurt,” Thomas whispered. “How will we save them, Pat?”

“They’ll be okay, I promise,” Pat whispered back. “It’s just a scratch at most, okay kiddo?”

Thomas nodded, but his brown eyes were huge with worry as he watched his friends, and his grip had hardly loosened. Patton peeled the fingers off his arms one by one and turned, urging Thomas to crawl onto his back. Steady from practice alone, Pat carried his brother to their bedroom, safe and inside, where no one could hurt them.

When Patton was ten, he made two realizations.

The first was about their future at the Harmony City Foster Home. They were now far too old for most of the potential parents. They were practically guaranteed to age out of the foster system here.

But at least they’d be together.

His other realization followed immediately on the heels of the first and threatened the one bit of safety Patton clung to. The whole home was glittering with excitement as Ms. and Miss loaded them all into two buses for a field trip. The words alone had been the source of endless speculation and entertainment for weeks. Maybe the ‘field trip’ was to a museum! Or a farm with ponies! No, they were definitely going to see a movie, or a play. No, a swimming pool. Or maybe they were going to Disneyland!

Despite the high expectations, no one was disappointed to find they were visiting the zoo just outside the city, the one with the huge park next door. Tommy excitedly pointed out all the turtles to Patton, whispering “That’s Teddy’s cousin!” The Hundred-Acre Wood gang had quite a lot of fun finding their namesakes in all the different enclosures, too.

“Patttyyy look it’s you!” Leo yelled, waving. And indeed, he was jumping up and down by the bear cage.

Derionna sniffed, surveying the huge animal with all the dignity a seven-year-old could offer. “That’s not Patton, that’s a brown bear.”

“But Pooh is a bear!”

“Pooh is a honey bear!”

“But look! Brown bears eat honey,” Dahlia pointed out, reading the descriptive sign. “And Pat gives bear hugs!”

Thomas swung his and Patton’s linked hands, grinning up at him. “And my big brother would protect us all, just like the big bear, right Pat?”

Patton grinned, adjusting his still-new glasses to look at his brother more clearly. It was still a shock, how many details there were that he’d been missing before! Trees had individual leaves, he could see single hairs in Thomas’ messy tangle, and he’d been able to pick out the hiding rabbits in the small mammals house. “Of course I will, Tommy. Forever.”

“Forever is a very long time, Pooh.”

Patton grinned and ruffled Thomas’ hair even more, quoting back their favorite movie. “Forever isn't long at all, when I'm with you!”

The friends all swarmed Pat and Tommy in an enormous group hug, singing along.

“One thing you should know No matter where I go We'll always be together Forever and ever!”

Miss and Ms. Parson found them then. Ms. was wiping away tears through a smile, and Miss was badly hiding giggles, but they both gathered them up to join the rest of the group.

All the children were set loose on the park next to the zoo, and the Parsons surprised them with gifts: jump ropes, beach balls, and some kites.

Leo, Kenny, Brittney, Dahlia, and Derionna decided on tag. Thomas, though, appealed to Patton with huge eyes that he really wanted to fly a kite, and Patton was powerless to resist. Even if it meant a lot of false starts as Thomas ran back and forth, trying to lift it high enough to catch the faint breeze.

At least, panting, he sat on the grass. “Patty, why does the kite hate me?”

“It doesn’t! The wind’s just lazy.”

“Can you try?”

Patton was a bit tired from the busy day already, but… this was for Thomathy. So of course he tried.

He ran back and forth, trying to catch a puff of air as Thomas held tight to the string, watching eagerly. Finally, a breeze pulled the rainbow kite just a few feet into the air. Thomas’ face split open into a triumphant grin.

Patton looked back as his little brother, who was twitching the string to try to keep the kite aloft, and a wave of affection crashed over him. He giggled, and laughed, and waved at the kite, cheering it on.

“Come on! Up and away! You’ve got this!”

Thomas’ surprised shout of joy caught Pat’s attention as the breeze suddenly picked up, sending the kite wheeling and soaring so quickly that Thomas nearly dropped the handle. Patton ran over to help him keep a firm hold. Together they sent it swooping through the sky, the brightly-colored tail fluttering behind. Their laughs and shouts of delight caught the Parsons’ attention.

“Great job, boys! You got it flying!”

Dahlia was staring at the not-so-distant trees, frowning. “But the trees are barely movin’ over there, look. Why is it flying?”

“Maybe it’s the hill?” Kenny suggested, scratching his head.

But the breeze had stopped and the kite swooped lower and lower. Thomas watched in disappointment, but Patton felt… odd. He felt like he’d just run the length of the field, but he’d only run back-and-forth with the kite, and had just stood with Thomas for the last bit of time. His hands felt a little jittery. He looked down at them and saw they were shaking just the slightest bit.

“Okay kiddos!” Ms. Parson called. “Time to come back to the bus!”

Patton shook out his hands and helped Thomas gather up the kite, checking his hands every other minute.

That night, Pat waited until Tommy was asleep and sat on the floor of their bedroom. He placed a tissue, a paper crane that Dahlia had made him, and his stuffed Pooh in front of him.

He closed his eyes and tried to think about the moment with the kite. He’d been so happy, seeing Thomathy’s smile and feeling the warm sun, and it had just fizzled around in his insides like a bunch of excited little honeybees and…

A puff of air lifted the tissue to float through the air, and the crane too, but the latter fell faster. Pat started, and the movement of air cut out immediately. But now he knew he hadn’t dreamed it. He could create wind out of nothing. And now that he’d done so deliberately, he was pretty sure he could do it again.

He pointed, and now a swirl of wind lifted his favorite bear off the ground, shakily. After a few airborne seconds, it fell once more, but Patton was grinning all the same.

“Tommy! Psst, Tommy!” he whispered, shaking his brother.

“Go ‘way, ‘m asleep,” the eight-year-old mumbled.

“Noo wake up, I gotta show you something!”

Grumbling, Thomas sat up, hair pointing in all directions. “Wassit, Pat?”

Patton concentrated, and pointed at the paper crane. It was lifted gently into the air on a breeze as a second one came to make its wings flap slowly as it flew over Thomas’ head.

“How are you doin’ that?”

“I dunno, I just can, all I gotta do is focus.”

Thomas stared at Pat with wonder in his eyes, which suddenly changed to fear. “Pat- you’re a super.”

“I guess I am, why do you look so worried?”

Thomas grabbed Patton’s hand and dragged him closer, disrupting the crane out of its flight. “If you’re a super you’re gonna get taken away. Like Jamahl.”

Pat felt ice settle on his spine. “Maybe you’d come with me? Have you noticed anything weird when you feel a lot?”

“Uh-uh. Patty, I don’t want you to go! Please don’t leave me! What if you end up like Val?”

“It’s okay, Tommy, I won’t,” he assured his brother as a resolution came to him. “They won’t send me away if they don’t know what I can do.”

“You’re gonna hide it? What if they find out?”

“They won’t,” Patton said firmly. “I won’t let them split us up. Not ever.”

He kept his promise. Only Thomathy ever knew, entertained by late-night shows of swirling, dancing animals and birds, flying through the air of their bedroom. And when he realized that age might soon separate them, he made his case to the Parsons.

“I know I’m going to age out in a year and a half, but can I stay here until Thomas does too? I can start working, and help out around the building if you need - I just want to make sure I’m here until he’s 18.”

Ms. and Miss made eye contact. “Pat, you understand that the precedent is the real issue, here. If we make an exception for you, why not the next person to ask? And we’d run out of room.”

“It’s only because we’re siblings, though. And it’s at most two years, that’s not terrible, right? We can even move into a smaller room. I just need to save enough to move out. Or I can adopt him before he ages out. I just need some time to get a job and start making my own money.”

The Parsons’ hands were linked, and Ms. subtly squeezed Miss’s, then spoke. “We’re going to have to lay out some ground rules, but I think we can do this. Don’t tell the others, but it’s because you two are our favorites,” she added with a wink.

Patton grinned. “Thank you so much! I’ll make you proud.”

Miss put a hand on Patton’s cheek and kissed the top of his head. “I know you will.”

~~

All things considered, having a job agreed with Patton. He’d been working at Accidentally In Loaf for four months and had learned to make his own bread already. He’d used part of his first ever paycheck to buy Thomas a tiny little figurine of a turtle. He’d made it a tiny name-tag that said “Teddy,” and he now had a place of honor on top of their dresser. Everything else went into savings, an account that Ms. had helped him set up. Everything else went towards the hope of a home that was solely their own, where Pat could live with Tommy and maybe even his other kiddos, if they needed it.

He whistled as he cleaned the counter, daydreaming about the decorations he’d have and the family dinners he’d cook. There’d be a sourdough starter in the pantry, and dough proving on the counter. Thomas would be able to film his fun little videos in the living room, or maybe they’d even have a yard! And when Leo or Derionna or Dahlia or Kenny or Brittney visited, they could all cuddle up in a giant pile on the couch, just like they had when they were little.

His reverie was interrupted by urgent breaking-news music on the TV and a not-so-distant explosion.

“Live from downtown - current reports and footage of a clash of supers. The villain is unidentified as of yet, but the hero is our own Commander Eagle, on patrol with his sidekick, Silver Sparrow.”

Patton glanced over at the TV, where a graphic was showing a map of the fight. He did a double-take, then blanched. The radius of impact was right near the middle of the city, where the Northwest and Southwest quadrants met.

It was right on top of his home.

Without removing his apron, Patton sped out the front door of the bakery, ignoring questions and calls of alarm. He was a 15-minute walk away, but if he went down one block he’d be able to at least see home from here.

On the wide boulevard, there were distant blurs in the air. The Commander and Sparrow were immediately recognizable, up against some dark figure that could fly and rip up huge objects without touching them. As Patton watched, the heroes tried to lead the villain towards an emptier area, but the villain kept dodging and weaving, staying in the same spot directly over Harmony City Foster Home. Debris was in the air as signs and mailboxes were uprooted and used as projectiles against the heroes. No one would be able to safely leave the home, not unless someone got them out.

Patton started to run, eyes glued to the battle above. Passersby jumped out of his way, scattering like leaves in the street as he ran.

No.

Winds picked up around him, pushing oblivious pedestrians aside as he raced towards his home.

Please no.

Were his feet hitting the ground still? Was he speaking aloud? Minor concerns, paling at the feet of his massive, overwhelming need to get home as fast as possible, to be there, to keep his kiddos safe.

No. No. No.

Another boom and thwap of air as villains and heroes collided overhead. A crash as a streak of moving bodies collided with an office building, sending shattered glass into the air, sparkling like deadly snowflakes.

Be careful, you’ll hurt them. Look where you’re going!

He was moving as fast as he could, only minutes away. He would get there. He would keep them safe.

And then he saw the dark form uproot an entire water tower and send it hurtling towards the two blips that were the avian heroes. The Commander swerved and hit it away, protecting himself and his sidekick.

The world slowed. Patton tried to run faster, but his legs felt leaden and dull. The water tower creaked as it fell a new direction, tons and tons of water sloshing as it descended. The shadow grew as Patton screamed in alarm and desperation. A shadow twin of the tower grew on the ground over HCFH, painting the familiar roof tiles a dark crimson, no longer the friendly red of warm brick.

Nononononono...!

Everything snapped back into real time as the impact hit. A massive thud and crash as the tower crunched through the entire foster home. Patton wasn’t sure if he was imagining screams or it was just his heart as he watched in horror, still two blocks away, useless.

He ran until his feet were planted in the debris, surrounded by brick and stone, all demolished and soaked by the fallen tower. His brain helplessly echoed the names of all his kiddos, everyone he knew in the home.

Leo. Brittney. Dahlia. Derionna. Miss Parson. Ms. Parson. Alicia. Kenny. Tammy. Lucy. Claire. Bruce. Amelia. Kenn. Danielle.

Thomas.

He was stumbling through the wreckage, looking for any sign of life, when he spotted him. Hair not just messy, but covered in rock dust. A huge, dark stain on his chest that matched the jagged i-beam beside him.

“Tommy?” Patton said aloud, voice cracking. “Thomathy?”

He was able to pull Thomas out of the mess, holding him in his lap. He’d gotten so much taller, these past few years. He was sixteen now, asking Pat when he’d start liking girls, confused and excited by the answer of “maybe never.” And he wasn’t responding.

Everything was damp from the flood of water of the tower’s contents, but Patton suddenly realized his face was, too.

“Thomas, please, wake up,” Patton pleaded. “Thomma-Llama-Ding-Dong? Thomas the Dank Engine? Please, say something, kiddo!”

Thomas’ face was serene. Shouldn’t he be scared by all these loud noises? The heroes were still clashing with the villain, but it sounded like they were winning now. Patton smoothed his brother’s hair and found his hand came away sticky and red. Had he been playing with hair dye? He should know better.

“Tommy, come on, stop playing. Just say something, okay? Anything!”

He shook Thomas’ prone torso. The teen’s arm fell limply to his side, revealing the tiny figurine clutched in his hand. It was Teddy the Turtle, now cracked through and covered in brick dust.

Patton stared at the little thing. His first gift to his brother. His promise of their future.

And it was ruined now.

He looked up numbly. The heroes were still fighting the villain, working in perfect tandem as they swooped from side to side, circling and landings blows. Why were they still fighting? Hadn’t they done enough? Who did they even fight for?

Patton hadn’t noticed until this moment that the air had gone still. Dust didn’t move, no breezes carried away the coppery smell of blood all around. He saw that trees were moving gently in the distance, but here, all was frozen. He looked down once more and saw the dent in his brother’s head, dark and tacky with blood. He gently kissed Thomas’ forehead and shifted his body off his lap. He arranged the boy’s arms with care, making sure Teddy was still in his grip. And then he stood.

Winds came to his grip without a thought. They swirled around him, racing faster and faster, and lifted him slowly into the air. Had he been scared of heights before? He found he didn’t remember, nor did he care. He rose 10 feet, then 20. Bricks and debris started to rise as well, and with metallic creaks and scrapes, so did the tower. He looked up at the fight above him. Commander Eagle had subdued the villain, it seemed. The two heroes seemed ready to leave.

He rose further, up to their level. “Hey friends! Where y’all going? You just got here!”

“Who the hell are you?” the Commander asked gruffly.

Patton smiled hugely. “My name’s Patton Sanders, thanks for asking! I work at the bakery!” He spoke in his best customer service voice, cheery and bright. “You’re Commander Eagle, and you must be Silver Sparrow!”

The sidekick flew over, silver costume shining in the day’s sun. “Yes, we are. Can we help you?”

“Why yes you can!” Patton continued, still smiling cheerily. “You can bring my fucking brother back to life, you bastards.”

Air rushed around them, carrying the debris from below. In a breath, both heroes were surrounded in floating cages of rock and brick, sides contracting around them. The villain the Commander had captured had their own separate prison as Patton sent all three hurtling towards the ground at terminal velocity. He swooped after them, grinning as they collided with the ground in a rattling crunch. The sound hadn’t just been from the rocks. One shell broke as a silver-clad arm reached out. “Please, we didn’t realize!” Silver Sparrow cried. She was badly bruised, blood trailing down from her temple, but the cut was already healing.

“Oh, you’re okay!” Patton said, floating a foot back. “Sorry, I must have made a mistake. Won’t happen again!”

He gestured, and the waiting water tower dropped.

~~

When he’d heard of the fight, he’d immediately suited up and flown towards downtown. When he saw the huge crater that was now in the middle of the city, he’d almost thrown up. A foster home? They’d managed to let ‘collateral damage’ take out an entire foster home? Was there anyone left? He didn’t see any emergency responders, at least, not yet.

But he did see a mangled water tower that had clearly caused the destruction, but had been moved somehow. And he saw a small, blue-and-grey form in the middle of the wreckage.

He flew down to investigate and found he was suddenly flying through a wall of wind, struggling to make headway. A conjured hand behind him pushed him through to the cylinder of calm inside the column of air.

Now he could hear the sobs. The form he’d seen was bent over a body, ginger curls shaking with every wet, gasping breath. Bodies surrounded them, too, all clearly moved. Roman realized with growing horror that practically all of them were young, far too young. None looked older than teens, except two grown women who were still embracing, even in death. Further out, he saw toddlers, children, all still and grime-covered, all within a crater of destruction that centered at the one live figure.

The sobs stopped as Roman landed and slipped on a brick, causing a small rockslide.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man asked coldly, whirling to face the red-and-black-clad villain.

“I’m the Crimson Marauder. I heard there was a fight with one of my heroes. Are you... alright?”

The man glared through glasses with hairline fractures all through one lens. He seemed unaware of the grime and stains his blue polo and grey cardigan had acquired. “Are you one of them?” he rasped.

“No.”

“Good. Then leave.”

Roman hesitated, then took a step closer. “I… I think I should stay. You shouldn’t be alone.”

The man’s head tilted back in a terrible mockery of a laugh. “Too late.”

Roman suddenly realized this was barely a man before him. He was a teen, an older teen, but definitely no adult. He was a child who’d clearly lost far too much. Roman swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You know, I’ve learned a little something about revenge,” he offered. The boy’s head snapped up at the last word, blue eyes blazing as they met Roman’s.

“And what’s that?”

“No one will do it for you.”

There was a moment of silence, and then the ginger head nodded. “You’re offering?”

“Of course. Just one condition: what’s your name?”

“Patton.”

“Nice to meet you, Patton. I’m Roman. Come with me, and no one will mess with your family ever again.”

~~~~~~~~

D.R.E.A.M. Index #265351

Classification: A.2.i [Secondary Tier Hero, Legacy]

Name: Commander Eagle

Status: DECEASED

/////////Recognition: Honor Roll ‘15

Civilian Name: [CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] Albert “Al” Hawkins

Affiliation: Hero

///////// H.A.T.C.H. Status: Inactive

Partners/Sidekicks: DI#337236 - Silver Sparrow

Primary Foes: DI#337413 - Crimson Marauder

Powers: Flight (wings), Strength;

Costume: Silver flak jacket, green camo pants, natural wings (feathered)

Age: 33

Height: 6’0”

Pronouns: He/Him

H.E.A.R.T.S. Class of ‘96

Note: [Hall of Fame notes archived]. K.I.A. by DI#337437 - Gale Force;

~~~~~~~~~

D.R.E.A.M. Index #337236

Classification: A.3.iii [Tertiary Tier Hero, Anomaly]

Name: Silver Sparrow

Status: DECEASED

/////////Recognition: Honor Roll ‘15

Civilian Name: [CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] Tamika Roberts

Affiliation: Hero

///////// H.A.T.C.H. Status: Inactive

Partners/Sidekicks: DI#265351 - Commander Eagle

Primary Foes: DI#337413 - Crimson Marauder

Powers: Flight, Durability;

Costume: Silver and blue jumpsuit, short silver cape in shape of wings, silver mask with beak

Age: 21

Height: 5’5”

Pronouns: She/Her

H.E.A.R.T.S. Class of ‘12

Note: Partnered immediately upon graduation with DI#265351 - Commander Eagle; K.I.A. by DI#337437 - Gale Force;

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Notes: Hi yes the title is indeed from This is Gospel, as was “Best of Us.” The WiP title, however, was “Hello naughty children it’s murder Thomas time”

[rosesisupposes]

"I'll always be here for you" for logicality with patton angst 👀

Pattangst You Say? 😈 I see your Patton angst and raise you a Dark!Patton

Protective/Loyal Prompts

“I’ll always be here for you.”

word count: much longer than intended: 3,184 words

pairing: Logicality

warnings: Hurt/No Comfort;  Dark Patton; Blood/Injury; Manipulation/Abuse

reader tags: [PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!] @residentanchor @royally-anxious @bewarethegrammarpolice  @jemthebookworm @arandompasserby  @sparkly-rainbow-salt @astral-eclipse​ @thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty 

I needed very little encouragement to do this and I got some anyway. 

>>read on ao3

Logan had been uncharacteristically clumsy lately.

The first time had been a lazy morning. He’d been up and about for a while when he returned to the kitchen for tea. Patton had been there, mixing up cookie dough. He’d heard Logan enter and turned from the counter, and the sunlight through the windows formed a nimbus of golden light around him. The brilliance was only rivaled by the smile. Logan had been caught in its entrancing glow, and felt the warmth of sunlight spreading on his cheeks. He’d only been called to the present when the mug in his hand suddenly was crashing against the island and the shards caught his hand.

Patton had immediately stopped what he was doing to run for the first-aid kit. He’d cleaned Logan’s cut and placed a Doctor Who bandage on it, then kissed it. “It makes it heal faster,” he’d said with a smile. For some reason his cheeks were pink as he spoke.

The second time, they’d just finished brainstorming a video downstairs and were making their ways back to their rooms. As Logan had walked down the hall, he’d heard a voice call his name.

“Logan! You did such a good job today! Thanks for being our resident genius!” Patton said with a wave. Logan had smiled and nodded as thanks, then promptly walked straight into his own bedroom door. Several minutes and an ice pack later, the bruise on his cheek was fading. The ice wasn’t enough to counteract the heat in his cheeks and Patton gently chided him to watch where he was going. It was just the embarrassment that made him blush, of course.

The third time, the others noticed. They’d been in the living room, discussing plans for the next week. Logan and Roman had started to disagree on priorities and gotten heated, loudly talking over each other. Roman was gesticulating flamboyantly when suddenly Patton spoke up. “I actually think Lolo has a point! Maybe we should go with his plan?”

Logan had turned to look over at the moral side. He’d been smiling back, a sweet expression reserved only for him. Logan felt heat rise in his cheeks again, and noticed nothing else. Or at least, almost nothing else. He dimly realized Roman had called to him and turned slightly, only to see a pencil seconds before it smashed into his face. He perceived a shocked and chagrined Roman, a shocked Virgil, and a concerned Patton already guiding him to the bathroom and the first-aid kit. “Thank you for your assistance once again, Patton,” he said. With his glasses removed, Patton was a blurry form in blue and grey with a surprising proportion of pink.

“Always, Lolo!”

It didn’t take long after that for Roman to confront him. In the true form of the creative side, he chose to do so in full view of all the light sides, in the middle of family game night.

“Logan, I’m amazed you’ve yet to drop all your cards tonight. You’ve been rather distracted lately, haven’t you?”

“Yes, it appears so. I have most definitely been having more than my normal amount of accidents. Perhaps whatever has been causing it has subsided.”

Roman rolled his eyes at Logan’s suggestion. “Patton, dear, do you think it’s been fixed?”

Patton started. “I, uh. I would think Logan would know best, wouldn’t he? He’s always so on top of this sort of thing.”

Roman watched as Logan’s blushing face swung towards Patton like a compass finding true north and rolled his eyes. “Hey, Professor Plum, if you’re so clever, why haven’t you told Patton you’re in love with him yet?”

Both bespectacled sides were suddenly staring at him, eyes wide and cheeks burning. Roman said nothing as he leaned back with a self-satisfied smirk. Slowly, Logan and Patton turned to face each other, recognizing the identical expressions they wore. Gaping mouths curved into smiles. Patton leaned in impulsively and kissed Logan on the cheek.

Virgil and Roman both took that as a cue to leave. “For the record, I still win the bet,” Virgil muttered. “I don’t care that it took five times longer than we thought, Pat still technically made the first move.”

Those first few weeks were a haze of hand-holding, furtive kisses that weren’t nearly as subtle as they attempted to be, and countless hours spent curled up with each other and soft, sweet words. Thomas was on vacation, and the lack of obligation gave his logical and moral sides uninterrupted time to bond as a couple and delight in one other’s company. The few days where Logan was needed, he was actually late. But what else could he do, when all he needed to do was turn back towards the couch to see huge brown eyes pleading him to stay and outstretched arms reaching for just one more hug? Logan returned from a one-on-one idea exchange with Roman only to be tackled by his boyfriend in a smattering of cheek kisses and delighted wriggles. Another instance, where he’d helped Virgil tamp down the rabbit holes of his anxious thought, he returned to Patton’s room and was pulled down into the tangle of pillows and blankets where the other man had been dozing. “You’re finally done! Now I get you all to myself again!” he laughed, squeezing Logan tight. Logan melted into Patton’s hold and curled up with him for another cozy night in.

With the end of vacation, there was a real schedule to maintain once more. Logan had more and more obligations to the other sides and to Thomas himself. The calendar had to be updated with deadlines and expected delays, videos needed to be edited for content and clarity, ideas needed to be amended or toned down for feasibility. Logan appreciated having the familiarity of a routine once more, but greatly appreciated those days set aside as date nights with Patton. Those weekly occurrences got time blocked off on the calendar, too.

And yet, despite the regular hum of productivity and the clarity of his feelings towards his new boyfriend, Logan’s clumsiness started to return.

First, the loose paper he hadn’t seen that was left on the stair. He’d stepped on it and slipped, slamming his back against the stairs and skidding down the remaining three to hit the downstairs landing. The thump had been heard throughout the house, but even though Virgil’s room was closer to the head of the stairs, Patton was the first to find him.

“Oh my poor Lo-berry. Here, let me get you some ice!”

“Thank you, Patton dearest.”

He’d had to rest on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, but Patton was there, fetching notes and food and staying at his side, the very picture of attentiveness and devotion.

Less than a week later, the tiles of the shower floor were far too slick. He’d stepped in the wrong spot and fell directly into the bar on the entrance, smashing against his forehead. Voices shouted in alarm outside the bathroom as the other three raced to help. But given the nature of the accident, only Patton had come in, carefully getting him clothed before bringing him downstairs for ice. Logan realized that trying to read or take notes or even look at screens was giving him headaches, so he spent the afternoon and evening tangled up with Patton, napping in turns and listening to rather than watching Disney movies.

Recovery came slower than he would have preferred- Logan was sorely behind schedule now, and needed to dedicate himself to catching back up. If he wasn’t on time, who would be?

With regret he found himself having to postpone date night one week, and then two. He made sure to remind Patton each day of his affection, but with deadlines looming there were fewer recitations of his qualities and more “I love you, see you later”s.

Then, one morning, he walked into the kitchen in his typical pre-coffee fog when he slipped on a puddle of spilled oil. Windmilling, he threw out a hand to break his fall, only to hit the open oven door. The burners weren’t on, but the metal had yet to cool, and Logan fell back in pain. Too nervous to try to stand up amid the oil slick, he was unable to get to the sink to rinse his burn. But through what could only be good luck, Patton had been awake to hear and came racing down the stairs, first-aid kit already in his arms.

“Oh my goodness gracious, my dear Lo, are you alright?”

“Patton, darling, thank you, can you help me up?”

Patton’s face was wreathed in concern as he rinsed the burn and wrapped it in soothing cream. “Maybe you should take the day off, Lolo. This can’t be a promising start.”

“Pat, sweet, I appreciate your concern. But thanks to your excellent nursing skills, I should be able to still get my work done.” He planted a kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead as he stood to head back to his room. “I’m almost caught up, and should be able to do date night tomorrow, okay? You’re my love!”

And he was able to. No disasters arose, and the ache in his arm wasn’t too distracting. He and Patton were able to relax together for hours on end, watching Sherlock and exchanging soft touches and looks. Patton looked happier than he’d been in weeks, and both Roman and Virgil stayed out of the living room to give them space. A tension Logan hadn’t consciously perceived melted away, making the very air feel lighter.

“I love you, Patton. Thank you for all your kind care recently, and your patience.”

“I love you too, my Lolo. I would do anything for you.”

As Logan dove back into the rigorous filming and editing schedule, he resolved to be more cautious. He didn’t want to cause Patton any distress.

His resolution mostly worked. There were some minor scrapes, but nothing serious. Patton, poor dear, was clearly so on edge that he arrived with the first-aid kit practically before Logan even got hurt. He was also very conscientious on Logan’s behalf of how many additional tasks the other sides needed him for.

“Hey Logan, can you look through these new ideas for me? I really think you’ll be impressed by the thought I put into them!”

“Ro, didn’t you just give him a whole stack of ideas on Tuesday? Give him time to catch up, okay?”

“Thank you, Patton - and yes, Roman, I will definitely get to those, but I won’t have time today.”

“L, Thomas needs to fly next week and I’m already freaking out, can we talk it out?”

“Virgil, whatever you-”

“Lo, aren’t you forgetting how packed your day is? I’m sure Virgil will be okay until you make some room, right?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be kay. No worries, Lo.”

But despite Patton’s help, the tasks piled up. Date nights were getting shifted again, and family dinners, and game nights too. One evening, Logan looked up at the clock only to realize that he was almost an hour late for movie night. He came rushing into the living room where Roman was reenacting his recent fight with the Dragon-Witch, sword in hand. Chuckling at his dramatic posturing, Logan walked over to the couch. Suddenly, his foot caught on something soft and he fell forward. He stepped quickly, trying to catch himself, but the trajectory of his fall brought him within range of Roman’s acting space. Logan’s hand, outstretched to catch himself, hit not solid ground or even Roman himself, but his sword, directly on the blade. Pain seared through Logan’s palm in a bright line as red blood spilled out, staining sword and carpet alike.

There was a moment of shock, then a cacophony of noise. Roman was spilling apologies, that he was so sorry, he thought he’d left enough room, oh my god Logan, are you okay? Please be okay! Virgil was frozen in fear, swearing repeatedly as he trembled, unable to think with blood spilt. Patton was the only one able to act. He pulled off his own sweater - for once, not the cat hoodie Logan had acquired for him - and wrapped Logan’s hand as he whisked him away to the bathroom to wash his wound and bind it up.

Sitting by the sink, Patton carefully sanitized and wrapped Logan’s hand, holding it gently.

“My Lolo, you really need to be more careful, Roman could have taken your whole face off!”

“I apologize if I have worried you, Patton. I appear to be somewhat uncoordinated lately. I haven’t the foggiest why, though. Last time it was because I was so enamored of you, but I am no longer confused by that, so what could it be?”

“Aww, Lo, you’re enamored of me?” Patton said, smiling

“Enamored doesn’t even begin to cover it. You’re my boyfriend, Pat, of course I love you.”

“I’ve been starting to worry, Lo, we’ve spent so little time together recently, with all the videos and schedules and setting up the office…”

“That’s only to be expected when Thomas has such hectic periods. Plus,” he added with a light chuckle, “my apparent inability to avoid accidents for more than a couple days straight means I keep needing your assistance.”

“I know,” Patton said. Something flitted through his eyes, but before Logan could discern its nature, his boyfriend was focused on the wound again, double-checking that the linen bandage was secure.

Logan helped clean away the stains and put Patton’s sweater in the wash before they both retreated to Logan’s room to recover from the excitement and terror of the evening. Lying in the quiet, Patton suddenly spoke up.

“Logan,” he said, seriously. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Patton”

“No, I mean it, Lolo. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Luckily,” Logan said with a reassuring chuckle, “we are both aspects of the same person’s identity. As long as there is Thomas, there is you, and me, and Virge and Ro.”

Patton’s face seemed to darken at the mention of the other sides. “You’ve needed to spend so much time with them lately.”

“Well, yes, they serve essential purposes in Thomas’ lifestyle, as we know. Particularly with all the editing recently, Roman’s needed my help quite a lot.”

“Isn’t it terrible, all that time you’ve spent helping him and today he nearly slices you open?”

“Pat, it was an accident. He didn’t mean any harm,” Logan said. “I’m fine now, thanks to your care.”

Patton relaxed once more, slipping an arm around Logan’s neck. “That’s right. I will always be here for you, to take care of you, to tend you when you’re hurt. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“How could I? All my silly accidents lately. I wish I knew who left that spill on the kitchen floor though, and with the oven open no less. If it was Virgil forgetting to clean up after a late-night snack…”

“Probably was. He probably didn’t even think of what a threat that was to you.”

“Well, not just to me. It would have been dangerous to any of us, I just tend to be the first to come downstairs.”

“I know”

“Pat, you’re always sleeping in, how would you know that?”

“Because I care about you, Lo,” he replied seriously. “More than they do. You know that, right?”

“Well, given our relationship, I suppose that would make sense…”

“No, you need to know, Logan. I care about you so much. I’m always thinking of you.” Patton’s voice had lost its warmth. Logan started to shift away, but the arm around his neck held him in place. He looked into Patton’s eyes to see a fierce light there.

“I never doubted your care, Pat. Never for a moment. And I myself feel the need to apologize.”

“What for, Logan my love?” Patton asked, softening once more.

“I can tell what a toll my work schedule has had on you, especially combined with my strange penchant for accidents,” Logan said, running a hand through Patton’s soft hair. “I’ve noticed how on edge you’ve been when I try to overcommit, and how overly-prepared you’ve been for even the slightest scratch. I appreciate it, dear one, but you don’t need to worry so very much.”

Patton’s hand had loosened around his neck, but had not fully moved away. “I’m glad you’ve noticed. I’ve been putting in a lot of effort for you. All this time you spend away from me, I don’t want you to forget how much I love you.”

“How could I possibly forget, dearest?” Logan said. There was an edge to Patton’s voice that gave him the slightest hint of unease. He rolled his shoulders and shifted closer, holding the other more fully in his arms.

“What else am I to think when you choose time with Roman over me, Lo?” The edge was still there. It should have been a whine to match his words, but it was too cold for that. “When you’re ready to cancel date night again thanks to Virgil’s paranoia? Have my grand gestures not been enough?”

“Grand gestures? I am unsure of what you mean - are you alright?”

“You haven’t even noticed?” Patton’s voice grew harder. “After all the planning I did? It was so precise, I thought you’d be proud of me. All my perfect timing, and careful maneuvering to make sure they only ever affected you? I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, Lolo. Only you. To make sure you take a break once in a while, even if you don’t want to.”

Logan noticed his own nervousness first, then realized the cause. He’d identified the nature of the flint-hard edge to Patton’s voice. It wasn’t a whine. It was a threat.

“Patton, I- what planning? What maneuvering?”

“I wanted to bring back the magic, Lo. From when I first knew you loved him. When I took care you through it all, and you were only mine.”

“When you first- my clumsiness, you mean? It’s just coincidence, Pat, the stress getting to me-”

“Logan!” Patton interrupted, eyes flashing. “How ungrateful can you be? It wasn’t coincidence! That was my planning! You think the oil was just left there, the oven conveniently hot but not scorching? A piece of innocuous paper that no one else slipped on? You didn’t notice that it was my foot you tripped on in the living room?”

Logan stared at Patton, eyes wide in fear. He’d been masterminding Logan’s terrible mishaps? Even tonight, when he could have collided with Roman’s sword with something far more fragile than his hand? He shifted, trying to move away, but Patton’s arms were around him like a vice, holding him in place. His breathing was becoming erratic as he stared into Patton’s eyes. When had the blue becoming so icy? When had the sunshine of his smile turned into pure heat, no longer warming but searing? “Pat- why?” he choked out.

“I’ll always be here for you, my Logan. No matter what.”

[rosesisupposes]

For the made up fic-title: Medicinal Poison

[Apologies in advance, this one’s gonna be a bit venty]

Prompt: Send me a made-up fic title and I’ll tell you what I’d write for it/write a mini fic for it

[Update to add: read on ao3]

~~~~~~~

Tick, tock, tick

The faint sound from the common room reminded him that the hour grew later and later, no matter how unsettled he felt.

Tock, tick, tock

He rolled over to check the time and saw the glowing green numbers indicating it was a quarter to four in the morning. He rolled back into his pillow to muffled the defeated moan grumbling its way out of his throat. Less than four hours until the morning’s alarm. The only thing awake with him was the house with its small rumblings, pipes and vents and creaks. The other residents of the mindscape were all safely ensconced in Remy’s domain.

Patton sighed, shifting once more under the covers. He knew he needed to sleep. Logan was very adamant about healthy circadian rhythms for them all, and Patton didn’t want to disappoint him too. He’d slowly started to notice Patton’s subdued morning greetings and had definitely noticed when the coffee pot started emptying faster. And given how easily Roman was distracting the logical side these days, Logan’s notice meant Patton could no longer deny that the sleep deprivation was getting worse.

Patton squished his pillow into a more comfortable position and blindly grabbed a stuffed animal from his bedside pile. He hugged the small creature to his chest, curling up around it, when the shapes and patterns under his fingers suddenly melded into a familiar mental image. Despite the dark, he could perfectly picture every detail, every stitch, every limb of his tiny Toothless. Despite being the newest addition to his collection, it was already worn. Patton nearly dropped it like a hot coal, but paused. He was already up this late, already unable to quiet the ruminations. Perhaps tonight he could stop pushing it away, and let himself remember.

He pulled the little dragon close to his chest, and let himself drift. He hand closed on bedsheets that had once been occupied. Equally fierce and gentle, angular limbs that fit perfectly around Patton’s form - he could still picture those nights with Virgil with perfect clarity. They hadn’t been so very long ago, but months felt like an eternity. And nights like these, when he had so many more waking hours to reminisce, only made the ache of that time sharper.

They still saw each other, during the day. They had to. It wasn’t like Patton could become someone else’s morality, or Virgil a stranger’s anxiety, nor could any of them refuse to appear. They’d seen the consequences of that. Virgil’s disappearance had prove to them all how essential he was- and it had proved to Virgil how much Patton had already believed that. That appreciation had led to affection, and it had brought Patton some of the happiest months of his existence.

Squeezing his Toothless tight as tears started to leak out of his eyes, he wished once more that those days hadn’t ended. He hated how alone he felt now. How much more aware he was of the quiet of his room and the sounds of the house in the pre-dawn hours. How many more silences inserted themselves into days that had once been filled with pet names and banter, puns and giggles.

The urge returned that night, strong as it had ever been. Go to him, it said with all of Roman’s passion. He can’t be aware of your current feelings if you never tell him, it murmured with Logan’s faultless reason. He might feel differently now, it insisted with all the optimism his heart could muster.

But that wasn’t his own optimism, was it. No, that was Dee again, the comfort of lies wrapping around his shoulders like Virgil’s arms had, once. Patton knew full well what further attempts would do. They’d only hurt them both, and nothing would change.

Virgil had been certain. He wasn’t in a place for a relationship. That much was clear. And he could work on it, and wanted to, but couldn’t ask Patton to just… stick around for him. Couldn’t ask him to take on the burden of Virgil’s slow therapeutic improvement. Patton had begged for the chance to stay anyway, to be there anyway, but Virge has insisted. “I can’t do that to you, Pat. I don’t want you to have to become my caretaker instead of my boyfriend. And that’s what will happen. So better to tell you now, end it now, than wait for the day you wake up and resent me for being a mess where you want a partner.”

I could never resent you, had died on Patton’s lips as he stared into Virgil’s achingly lovely eyes. He couldn’t promise such a thing, not without seeing the future. And a reckless vow would help no one.

Picturing it now, the tears poured out, hot and silent. Patton curled himself into a smaller ball, hoping the melancholy might not spread if he took up less room. But his stomach started to hurt from the effort of not shaking.

I’m already up so late and sobbing, he thought with resignation. Might as well lean in. He sat up and summoned the picture frame from his wall. At his thought, the moving image shifted, bringing up a candid Roman had captured for the memory frame. Virgil and Patton crafting together, creating scarves of all four Hogwarts house colors as Virgil revealed his unexpected talent for knitting. Patton in the capture had his hands tangled in yarn, grinning hugely from inside his cat hoodie as Virgil laughed. The image shifted, and now it was a selfie, a picnic they’d planned together in the Imagination. The perfect early sunset set in their eyes as the sky behind them bloomed in their colors: light blue sky before the sun faded, interrupted by the dark purple underbellies of clouds. Virgil learned in to kiss Patton’s cheek as the memory was stored. Another shift and Patton found the picture he’d blocked anyone else from accessing. He’d captured it one cozy morning. Virgil, only half under the covers, looked up at him through sleep-ruffled bangs with a slow smile spreading across his face. His mouth moved without sound, but Patton still remembered the exact sound, the exact words: “Good morning, sunshine,” thick with sleep and yet so soft and gentle that it had caused Patton to immediately cover the man in kisses. He couldn’t stand to lose the memory, nor could he ever bear sharing such a thing.

He knew he tortured himself with the memories, with the pangs of longing to just go back to how it was. He knew the indulgence would only sting all the more as he brought himself back to his Virgil-less reality. But it soothed his heart, just enough. It was a cool balm that dulled the sharp burn, even if it flared again when the balm dried away. It was sticky-sweet honey, coating his heart like a sore throat without any of the ability to lead to lasting healing.

He knew the morning would bring more pain. He would drag himself out of bed, tack on a bright smile, slog his way through his duties and videos. He’d see the man he loved, the one he missed, the smile he ached for, but none of Virgil would be for him. The reality pushed down on him, a slow, non lethal blow. He risked the acuteness of pain each time he wallowed, and accepted that risk. It was with eyes wide open and heart fully exposed that he let himself drink the memories in deep.

[ghosty-goos-asks]

How come you don’t know? ((Me: I’m gonna take a shower Hellbrain: BUT YOU GOTTA BE HERE FOR THE POSSIBLE PATTANGST))

I don't know! There's just nothing that comes mind I gueeeeess! - 🐶👻

((Go shower stinky child!))