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gabbyfluffy · 4 years ago

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La verdad

Lilo se puso delante de Harry y le protegió con su cuerpo. “Si quieres matar a Harry, tendrás que pasar por nosotros!”

“No” Sirius tenía aspecto sucio y mirada de psicópata. “Solo uno morirá esta noche.”

“Y serás tú!” Harry quitó a Lilo del medio y cargó contra Sirius, tirándolo al suelo e inmovilizándole. Le apuntó con la varita y Black sonrió. “Como si fueses a matarme, Harry…”

“Expelliarmus!” la varita de Harry salió volando y Remus entró en escena. Ayudó a Sirius a levantarse y le abrazó, luego apuntó a los chicos.

“Lo he encontrado… Está aquí, matémosle!” dijo Sirius con voz temblorosa de la emoción.

“Expelliarmus!” la varita de Remus saltó de su mano y todos miraron a la puerta sorprendidos. “Qué diablos pasa aquí, panda de idiotas?” Livvy les miraba cabreada y con la varita en alto.

Lilo sonrió aliviada. Ahora que su amiga estaba ahí, podrían encarcelar a Sirius. “Mishi…?”

Livvy se fijó en Sirius y frunció el ceño. “Cómo sabes quién…?” Black se sacó un collar de debajo de la camiseta y Liv bajó la varita. “Canuto?”

“Cachorrita!” Liv sonrió y fue corriendo hacia Sirius; el abrió los brazos y Liv se colgó de su cuello con un salto. Todos contemplaban la escena asombrados, viendo como una niña abrazaba a un criminal psicópata y sucio.

“Dónde estabas? Te he estado buscando todo el día! Y porque eres un criminal buscado en todo el mundo?”

Sirius hizo una mueca y soltó Liv. “Te acuerdas de lo que te dije en el bosque?” ella asintió “Pues es ese” señaló a Ron. Liv asintió como si fuera obvio y apuntó al pelirrojo con la varita.

“Un segundo, como os conocéis?” Remus había recuperado su varita y les miraba inseguros. “Es una larga historia” dijeron a la vez sin dejar de mirar a Ron.

“Livvy, que haces?! Porque te pones de su lado?” le gritó Lilo, sacando también su varita y apuntándola.

“Lilo, baja la varita. Todo tiene sentido, solo… Confía en mí.” Lilo negó con la cabeza y la miró como si estuviera loca. “Ese es Sirius Black, asesino de doce muggles y el mago Peter Pettigrew!”

“Es mi amigo.” Dijo Liv. “ Expelliarmus!” Lilo se había distraído y su varita voló de sus manos. “Traidora!”

“Confiamos en ti!” Hermione se puso delante de Harry y miró a Lupin. “Guardé tu secreto! Es un hombre lobo, por eso falta a clases!”

Liv echó una mirada a Lilo de <<te lo dije>>

“Lilo, todo tendrá sentido. Ron, danos tu rata.” Dijo ella.

Él tembló “Scabbers? No, es mi mascota!” Harry, Hermione y Lilo miraron a los tres con odio. Remus y Liv les apuntaban, mientras que Sirius tenía un brillo demencial en los ojos.

“Toma” Liv le dejó su varita a Sirius, que la miró con cariño “Mátalo” terminó ella con expresión seria. “Esperad! Harry tiene derecho a saber por qué!” dijo Lupin.

“Sé por qué” gritó Harry “él traicionó a mis padres! Por su culpa están muertos!”

Liv negó con la cabeza y su coleta rizada siguió el movimiento. “No, Harry. Él no fue.”

“Peter Pettigrew!” bramó Sirius “Y está en esta habitación, aquí y ahora!” sonreía como un loco “ Sal a jugar Peter!”

“Expelliarmus!” la varita de Sirius abandonó sus manos. “La venganza es dulce…” dijo Snape con su clásica voz nasal. Liv se interpuso entre él y Black. “Quita, niña!”

“No!” lo desafió ella. Con un movimiento de varita, la tiró contra una pared. “Mishi!” gritó Black, pero Snape tenía la punta de la varita en su garganta.

“Dame una razón. Te lo suplico.” Dijo el profesor Snape.

“Severus, no seas insensato…”

“No puede evitarlo, Remus, ya es un hábito” se carcajeó Sirius.

“Cállate Sirius!”

“Cállate tú, Remus!”

“Miraos, discutiendo como un matrimonio trasnochado” Lilo vio como Liv buscaba disimuladamente su varita.

“Porque no vas a jugar con tus cacharritos de química?” ladró Sirius. “Podría hacerlo, sabes?” dijo Snape con tono cruel “Pero no te ahorraré el beso de los dementores. Detecto cierto miedo? He oído que es insufrible de presenciar, pero haré lo que pueda…” apuntó la puerta con la mano “Después de ti”

“Profesor, por favor…” gimoteó Liv con preocupación.

“Expelliarmus!” Harry había cogido la varita de alguien y el profesor Snape cayó hacia atrás, destrozando una cama vieja.

“Harry, que has hecho!” se quejó Lilo, viendo como Black ayudaba a Liv a levantarse y la abrazaba. “Has agredido a un profesor!” la secundó Hermione.

“Háblame sobre Peter Pettigrew!” mandó Harry.

“Fue al colegio con nosotros! Creíamos que era nuestro amigo!” Remus limpió un poco de polvo de la cara de Liv. Lilo no sabía cuando habían cogido tantas confianzas.

“Pettigrew está muerto! Tu lo mataste!” Potter apuntó a Sirius, quien tenía a Liv detrás con actitud protectora. “Eso pensaba yo también! Pero luego lo vi en el mapa” Remus miró a Lilo, que dio un paso adelante.

“El mapa mentía, entonces!” gritó ella.

“El mapa nunca miente!” dijo Remus con firmeza. “Peter está vivo! Y está ahí!” apuntó a Ron. “Yo? Estás loco!”

“No tú, tu rata!” gritó Sirius, dando vueltas como un perro enjaulado.

“Scabbers lleva en mi familia…”

“Doce años?” inquirió Black con sorpresa fingida. “Una vida larga para una vulgar rata de alcantarilla. A que le falta un dedo?”

“Si” dijo Ron abrazando a su roedor. “Y qué?”

Lilo lo entendió. “Todo lo que encontraron de Pettigrew fue...”

“Un dedo!” Sirius la miró. “Se lo cortó para que pensaran que había muerto! Y luego se transformó en una rata!”

“demuéstralo” pidió Harry. “Dásela Ron.” Sirius cogió la rata, ignorando las protestas de Ron. Le colocaron en un viejo piano y Liv le volvió a dar su varita a Sirius. En cuanto soltaron al roedor, este intentó escapar mientras ellos le tiraban hechizos; justo cuando iba a pasar, un hechizo le dio y él aumentó de tamaño hasta ser un humano con cara de… bueno, de rata.

“Remus…? Sirius…? Mis viejos amigos…” intentó escapar pero ellos se lo impidieron. Peter se escondió detrás de un piano. “Vendiste a James y a Lily a Voldemort!” gritó Remus con odio.

“No era mi intención!” se escabulló por debajo del piano y cogió a Harry por los hombros. “James no me habría matado, el me habría perdonado! Habria mostrado piedad!”

Remus y Sirius le separaron de Harry y le apuntaron con la varita. “Deberías haber sabido que si Voldemort no te mataría, entonces lo haríamos nosotros! Juntos!” gritó Black.

“No!” todos se giraron hacia Harry.

“Harry, esta rata asquerosa-“empezó Liv, pero Harry la cortó. “Sé lo que es. Lo llevaremos al castillo”

“Bendito seas, Harry! Bendito seas!” gimoteó Peter y Liv gruñó.

“Te llevaremos al Castillo y después serás de los dementores” terminó Potter.

Avanzaron por el estrecho túnel de camino a Hogwarts “Liv, perdón por lo de antes…” su amiga la miró y me masajeó el brazo, que estaba amoratonado del golpe. Sirius ya la había devuelto la varita; ella la sonrió. “No pasa nada Lilo. Sinceramente yo tampoco habría confiado en ti si hubieses estado en mi lugar.” Las dos se sonrieron y se chocaron el puño.

“Estás bien cachorrita? Snape te dio una buena sacudida” preguntó Sirius desde delante. Él y Harry ayudaban a Ron a avanzar y Liv le gruñó. “No me llames cachorrita, Can” él resopló y siguió contándoles una historia sobre el y James.

Salieron del agujero y Lilo inhaló aire fresco por fin. Sirius y Harry dejaron a Ron en la roca, y luego se fueron a hablar. Livvy miraba en su dirección con las cejas fruncidas y el cuerpo en tensión. “Estás celosa?” la preguntó Lilo con una sonrisa.

“No” respondió su amiga con tono serio “Al fin y al cabo, es el padrino de Harry, yo no pinto nada” contestó con amargura.

Lilo se mordió el labio y no contestó. Remus salió del tronco arrastrando a Pettigrew. “Remus, cuidado!”gritó Lilo. La luna había empezado a salir y el profesor Lupin empezó a temblar. “Liv, yo me ocupo, tu protégelos!” la dijo Sirius.

Livvy miró con desdén a Harry, pero al final asintió. “Mantened esto en secreto o sufriréis.” Les amenazó ella, y Ron, Harry y Hermione asintieron asustados. Liv se transformó en pantera y se colocó delante de ellos. Remus ya había completado su transformación, y tiró a Sirius. El hombre lobo gimoteó, pero Liv le gruñó.

Remus aulló a la luna y devolvió el gruñido a Liv. Dieron vueltas, midiéndose el uno al otro, y Lupin atacó.

colaboración con @carol-friki-06

siguiente capítulo

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edupunkn00b · 3 years ago

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/crawling out of my cave, brandishing a C- paper)

Okay okay okay okay you're right, of course, Professor, but can we get partial credit for giving vampire!Virgil the last name Lamia (Vampire in Latin), vampire hunter!patton and Venator all in the same story that we gave Logan the last name Sanders? Or Remus and Roman getting the name Puños (fists) in a different story?

No? Oh-kay.

/crawling back into my cave/

🤓

Me, a fool: The name "Dialectica" comes from one of the Latin words for "logic", becoming a root word for "dialect", "dialogue", et cetera. Therefore, in choosing this last name for Human!Logan, I further tie his identity back to his origin as Logic.

You, all intellectuals: heehoo c r o f t e r s

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anobodysposts · 7 years ago

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Esperanza [Wolfstar]

Este es mi primer one-shot para el fandom de Harry Potter. Espero que les guste.

Argumento: Durante los eventos de "La Orden del Fénix". Sirius era increíblemente infeliz en aquella casa, como si fuera un prisionero nuevamente. Sin embargo, una visita le daría nuevos bríos.

Puedes leerlo aquí en AO3.

O en Wattpad.

Sirius daba vueltas y vueltas en el interior de aquella casa. Se sentía un completo inútil. Mientras que todos los miembros de la Orden del Fénix tenían una tarea asignada, él debía quedarse en aquel lugar, como si fuera un prisionero. Al parecer, sus días como uno no habían terminado.

Molly había hecho un buen trabajo en limpiar aquella sucia casa, pero pese a ello, Sirius seguía sintiendo un profundo desdén por lo que representaba. No le cabía ninguna duda de que su madre repudiaría el hecho de que su hogar se había transformado en la sede de reuniones para la Orden. Una sonrisa sarcástica se formó en su rostro.

Sin embargo, pronto volvió a entrar en un estado de tristeza y desesperación. Aunque solía haber visitas, Sirius seguía sintiéndose como un solitario. Al fin y al cabo, el resto podía salir al mundo mágico, interactuar con otra gente, ayudar a la causa.

De repente, escuchó que la puerta se abría. Agudizó los sentidos. Confiaba plenamente en casi todos los miembros de la Orden, con la excepción de Severus Snape. Arrugó la nariz. La impaciencia se apoderaba de él. ¿Acaso le traían nuevas noticias sobre Harry? ¿Sobre lo que sucedía en el Ministerio de Magia?

Remus hizo su aparición y Sirius se relajó un poco más. El primero tenía un aspecto demacrado y sus ropas parecían las de un vagabundo. No obstante, Black no dudó un solo segundo en abrazar a su viejo amigo. Su sola presencia provocaba un profundo cambio de ánimo, aunque solo fueran por unos cuantos segundos.

—¿Has estado bebiendo? —Remus le preguntó luego de separarse de Sirius.

—No… —Mintió, aunque sabía que no tenía sentido hacerlo:—Tal vez un poco —respondió al final, con una suave sonrisa pícara en su rostro.

Remus inspeccionó el rostro del otro. A pesar de las décadas que habían transcurrido desde que habían salido de Hogwarts, Sirius aún poseía ese encanto que había embrujado a numerosas chicas en aquella época y ¿por qué no? A él también, aunque ya era cuestión del pasado.

—Siéntate —Sirius le pidió antes de tomar asiento en el comedor de aquella casa —. Espero que me traigas noticias del exterior.

—No es que haya habido grandes cambios —Lupin admitió antes de dejar una copia de "El Profeta" sobre la mesa.

Sirius agarró el periódico. No podía creer lo que leía y al mismo tiempo, no le cabía dudas de que el mundo se estaba volviendo cada vez más peligroso. El bienestar de Harry le preocupaba cada día más y lo que más le dolía era el no poder hacer algo al respecto.

—Tienes que hablar con Dumbledore, Remus. No puedo continuar en este lugar —Sirius dijo al cabo de unos cuantos minutos.

—Es por tu bien. Ya hemos tenido esta conversación varias veces —Lupin dejó escapar un largo suspiro de resignación.

—¡He sido la primera persona en escapar de Azkabán! —Sirius se quejó:—Lo hice para vengar a James y estar al lado de mi ahijado. ¿Cómo se supone que voy a hacer eso estando en esta maldita casa? —Golpeó la mesa con su puño y varios cuadros se despertaron al escucharlo.

Remus se puso de pie. Sabía exactamente lo que debía hacer en ese momento. Caminó hasta donde se hallaba Sirius y lo rodeó entre sus brazos. Luego cerró los ojos.

—Harry te necesita más que nunca Sirius —Le recordó.

Sirius no fue capaz de contestar. Remus tenía esa capacidad de tranquilizarlo con sus abrazos. Le reconfortaba. Era de las pocas personas que verdaderamente le comprendían. Si tan sólo aquel momento pudiera durar para siempre, pensó.

—Te necesita vivo, Sirius —añadió Lupin antes de desprenderse de Sirius. Se acomodó la ropa lo mejor que pudo.

Pero antes de que pudiera volver a su asiento, Sirius le tomó de la mano.

—No podemos hacer esto —Remus dijo, más que para convencerse a sí mismo:—No de nuevo.

—¿Por qué no? —Sirius le sostuvo la mirada:—Tú sientes algo por mí y yo siento lo mismo por ti, Remus —Volvió a dejar escapar esa sonrisa pícara y encantadora. Sabía que no se estaba equivocando.

Remus bajó la mirada. Su viejo amigo tenía toda la razón. Jamás había conseguido olvidarle, por más que lo había intentado. Incluso cuando Sirius estaba en Azkabán, su corazón latía con fuerza con la sola mención del nombre de este.

—Porque esto no es Hogwarts, Sirius. Porque ya no tenemos dieciséis años —Remus le respondió, sin desprenderse de Sirius. Una parte de sí deseaba regresar a aquella época de juventud, en la que con James y Peter se divertían, sin mayores repercusiones, sin las responsabilidades con las cuales actualmente cargaban.

Silencio. Remus pensó que era el momento de retirarse. Por supuesto, estaba sumamente preocupado por Sirius y lo último que deseaba era abandonarle. Sin embargo, Sirius le estaba poniendo en una posición difícil.

—Si dices que no me amas, entonces no volveré a insistir —Sirius le propuso. Estaba claramente decepcionado. Sin embargo, ya estaba acostumbrado a ello.

—Yo… —Remus suspiró. Miró los ojos intensos de Sirius. No era capaz de hacerlo, por más que lo intentara:—Sirius, tú mejor que nadie sabes lo que siento por ti —admitió.

Con esa respuesta, Sirius se dio más que satisfecho.

—Cuando Voldermort sea derrotado, ¿crees qué tendremos un futuro? —Sirius se atrevió a preguntar. Éste había soñado con tantas cosas, como vivir con Harry y tal vez tener una oportunidad con Remus.

—Sirius… —Remus no quería comprometerse a lo que fuera que Sirius deseara. Por supuesto, en un mundo ideal, tal vez ellos tendrían una chance de ser felices como pareja. Sin embargo, los últimos tiempos habían sido nefastos. ¿Quién sabía si siquiera sobrevivirían?

—Podemos pretender por un momento —Sirius comenzaba a desesperarse. Se moría por un poco de contacto humano. ¿Acaso Remus no lo podía ver?

Lupin supuso que estaba siendo muy severo con Black. Se puso de pie. Tal vez un par de horas no le sentarían mal a ninguno de los dos.

—¿Por qué no? —Remus sonrió por primera vez en toda la velada. Temía que algún otro miembro entrara a la casa en cualquier momento. No obstante, tal vez ese riesgo lo volvía un poco más emocionante.

Sirius saltó de inmediato. Ahora sentía vergüenza por el mal estado en el que se encontraba. Pero a Remus parecía no importarle. Guio a este último hasta su vieja habitación, aún decorada con banderines de Gryffindor.

Apenas Sirius cerró la puerta, tomó a Remus entre sus brazos. Por un momento, se transportaron a esa época feliz, con James y Peter. Aunque Remus ya tenía algunas marcas en su rostro por aquel entonces, Sirius lo había encontrado sumamente atractivo. Ahora, a sus casi cuarenta años, seguía pensando lo mismo.

Sin embargo, aquel beso lo tomó por sorpresa. Remus temblaba como hoja sacudida por el viento. Sirius cerró los ojos y prolongó un poco más aquella demostración de afecto. Era como regresar a la adolescencia.

Sirius observaba con atención a Remus. Éste cerró su libro abruptamente y se enfocó en Black.

—¿Por qué me miras de ésa manera? —Remus preguntó.

Pero Sirius no contestó. Se levantó y llevó su taburete al lado de Remus. Miró a sus alrededores, para asegurarse de que nadie en la sala los viera.

—¿Acaso no piensas contestarme? —Lupin levantó una de sus cejas. Fuera lo que fuera, Sirius estaba planeando algo y no era precisamente bueno.

Sirius se limitó a sonreír y luego le robó un beso. Las mejillas de Remus se tornaron rojas de vergüenza.

—Espero que eso sea suficiente —Sirius se puso de pie y abandonó la sala, complacido.

Remus jamás se habría de olvidar de ello.

Esta vez, Remus quiso tomar la iniciativa. Claramente había dejado anonadado a Sirius.

—Ya. Espero que con eso sea suficiente —Remus se separó de Sirius de inmediato. Temía que, de continuar, no pudiera detenerse.

—No, no lo es —Sirius quería más, pero sabía que ya estaba presionando bastante a Remus.

—Lo sé. Tal vez algún día… —Remus acarició la barba descuidada de Sirius:—Cuando todo esto se acabe —le prometió.

#remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fic #please give it a shot

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canut0 · 7 years ago

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— PERFIL PERSONAL: Sirius Black. ❞

01 / BÁSICOS

Nombre completo: Sirius Orion Black.

Apodos: Canuto.

Sexo/Género: Masculino.

Fecha de nacimiento: Tres de noviembre.

Edad: Veinte años.

Signo Zodiacal: Escorpio.

Ocupación: Desempleado.

Lenguajes que habla: Inglés, aunque de vez en cuando se le escapa alguna que otra frase en francés, las mismas sólo son para bromear.

Orientación sexual: Pansexual.

Lugar de nacimiento: Inglaterra.

Estado civil: Soltero.

02 / RASGOS FÍSICOS

Color y estilo de cabello: Su cabello es de color azabache, el mismo es lacio hasta la mitad, ya que luego el mismo se puede notar ondulado. La cabellera de Sirius es algo muy importante para él, pues la misma significa un acto de rebeldía ante sus padres, quienes le decían que se la cortara y empezara a actuar con educación.

Color de ojos: Son negros cuando se enoja, aunque en realidad los mismos son de un color grisáceo oscuro, casi verdes.

Referencia de voz: (x)

Altura: 1.87 metros.

Peso: 74 kg.

Tattoos: Tiene una pequeña X en su dedo, la misma está un poco borrosa porque él mismo la hizo con intención de probar su tolerancia al dolor. Sin embargo el pelinegro quiere tener más tatuajes, pero bien hechos.

Piercings: No tiene.

Señas particulares: Sirius tiene varias cicatrices, las mismas de las aventuras que tuvo y hasta accidentes tontos. Él las recuerda con felicidad. Una de las más prominentes es en su codo, la cual fue provocada al caerse de su motocicleta.

Gestos o movimientos particulares: Una sonrisa se pinta en sus carmesí, a la vez que una mueca engreída hace acto de presencia. No es como si estuviera al tanto de las caras que hace, pero en la familia Black es algo muy normal el parecer soberbio a simple vista, y por desgracia esa era una de las cosas que heredó. Claro, podría ser peor, pero muchas veces no se le toma en serio o hay malos entendidos porque se cree que está siendo presumido, cuando no es así.

Postura: Camina derecho y lleno de seguridad, es un chico que le gusta hacerse notar.

03 / PERSONALIDAD

Le molesta… : Su familia y creencias. Al igual que la deslealtad y mentiras, la cobardía, el saber que no puede salvar a todos y verse débil.

Hobbies/Intereses: Montar en motocicleta, meterse en problemas y andar corriendo por los techos.

Habilidades especiales: Él cree que todo lo hace bien, pero una de las cosas en las que Sirius es experto es en las peleas de puños, ya que por años ha tenido que meterse en ellas por insultos. Es muy bueno en los hechizos y en escapar rápido cuando sabe que lo atraparon.

Gustos: La adrenalina, el alcohol, los cigarros y de vez en cuando la marihuana; tampoco cree que la necesite todo el tiempo.

Disgustos: Severus Snape, su familia y el compromiso.

Inseguridades: Cree que no tiene, pero es una persona sumamente insegura, ya que llenó el vacío de la aprobación de sus padres en otras personas aclamando cualquier cosa que hace, como por ejemplo molestar a Severus Snape. Una inseguridad que tiene es el imaginarse a alguien cortando su cabello, eso sonara est��pido para muchos, pero si le obligan a hacerlo probablemente se esconda en su recamara a llorar hasta que hayan olvidado el tema, pues le da miedo parecer un Black.

Fortalezas: Su lealtad, su sentido del humor, la confianza que tiene por sí mismo, la forma en que hace reír a los demás y saber que es adorado por muchas personas.

Debilidades: Saber que dejó a Regulus, sin embargo nunca lo admitiría.

Forma de hablar: Cuando está con Los Merodeadores habla bastante rápido y alto, ya que es muy difícil que todos se hagan escuchar a la vez, mas esto pasa cuando van a hacer una travesura, pues no quiere que lo hagan arrepentirse, aunque es más seguro que eso no pase. A la hora de coquetear su voz es ronca y calmada.

Temperamento: Fuerte.

04 / FAMILIA & CASA

Familia inmediata: No les llamaría familia, pero las personas con las que solía vivir eran: Orion y Walburga Black, más su hermano Regulus.

¿Qué piensa de su familia?: No los soporta, por eso decidió irse de la casa antes de seguir un minuto más con ellos y sus ideologías.

¿Qué piensa su familia de ellos?: Lo odian por no tener su forma de pensar y ser rebelde. Aunque no podría importarle menos al de cabellos azabaches (o eso aparenta).

Mascotas: Una lechuza negra llamada Mischief, la misma muerde bastante, cosa que le ha traído problemas a Sirius, aunque para su suerte el animal aprendió a no morderlo, el lado malo es que lo sigue haciendo con los demás, por lo que en sus cartas siempre pone: Posdata: El ave muerde.

¿Dónde vive?: Actualmente vive en la residencia Potter.

Descripción de su habitación: Es grande y con muchas ventanas, la cama suele estar desordenada y las paredes cubiertas de posters de las bandas que ama. Tiene sus botas negras tiradas por ahí siempre, pues se le hace más fácil que andar buscándolas todo el rato por el ropero. Sus camisetas pueden estar encima de una silla o en el closet, no hay punto medio, también tiene varias fotos con sus amigos, junto a un par de recuerdos de Hogwarts. El alcohol está debajo de su cama, y la hierba debajo del colchón.

05 / ESTO O AQUELLO

Introvertido o Extrovertido: Extrovertido.

Optimista o Pesimista: Optimista, aunque el joven puede llegar a ser dramático.

Líder o Seguidor: Depende de la situación, pero mayormente líder.

Confiado o Inseguro: Su fachada dice que es confiado, pero es bastante inseguro.

Cuidadoso o Impulsivo: Impulsivo.

Creyente o Ateo: Ateo.

Apasionado o Apático: Apasionado.

Halagos o Insultos: Depende de la persona, pero se diría que los insultos por el hecho de que le gusta meterse en líos.

Fiestas o Reuniones privadas: Fiestas.

Dormir en piyamas o Dormir en ropa interior: Desnudo, aún estando con gente.

06 / FAVORITOS

Color: Negro.

Estilo de ropa/atuendos: Chaquetas de cuero, botas negras y desaliñadas; a veces sucias. Es bastante descuidado, hasta en Hogwarts llevaba la corbata atada a la cabeza, haciendo que McGonagall le dijera que sea más formal y se viera como un estudiante y no como un loco.

Bandas/Canciones/Tipo de música: Su banda favorita es The Rolling Stones, aunque también le gustan tales como AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, Iron Maiden, Pink Floyd y Sex Pistols.

Películas: La matanza de Texas y El Padrino.

Libros: No es fanático de la lectura.

Comidas/Bebidas: Come de todo, no es muy exigente. Su bebida favorita sería el whiskey de fuego.

Deportes/Equipos de deportes: Quidditch, normalmente apoya a su casa.

Hora del día: Anochecer.

Clima/Estación: Caluroso, Verano.

Animal: Perro.

07 / MISCELÁNEA

Miedos/Supersticiones: Su miedo es darse cuenta que el final del día es igual que su familia, que sus esfuerzos para probar lo contrario son pura basura. Sirius no es supersticioso, ya que siempre se ha arriesgado en todo y nada malo le ha pasado.

Opinión política: Sólo da una opinión cuando está enojado o ebrio y tocan el tema, pero odia la situación actual del mundo mágico.

Adicciones: Ninguna.

Materia más fácil en la escuela: Todas, él nunca fue un mal estudiante.

Materia más difícil en la escuela: No es que se le hiciera difícil, pero no le agradaba mucho Historia de la Magia, la misma se le hacía un tanto aburrida.

Clubs en la escuela/Equipos de deportes en la escuela: Varias veces el muchacho ha sido comentador cuando Gryffindor jugaba, pero en lugar de ser serio se ponía a hablar de lo que le pasó en la semana o a aplaudir a James cuando hacía algo bien, de vez en cuando cantaba o leía cartas que los estudiantes le enviaban llenas de confesiones, las mismas podían ser anónimas o no.

¿Cómo gana dinero?: No lo hace, muchas veces necesita robar.

¿Cuál es su relación con la tecnología muggle?: Se le dificulta, no entiende como esos seres son tan avanzados.

08 / PASADO & FUTURO

Mejor recuerdo: Conocer a Los Merodeadores, el ayudar a Remus, crear el mapa del merodeador y las fiestas hechas e inolvidables.

Su más oscuro secreto: Ama a Regulus y se preocupa por él.

Vacación soñada: Junto a sus amigos en cualquier lugar, mientras sea con ellos sabe que todo estará bien.

Lo mejor que le ha pasado en la vida: Irse de la casa de sus padres.

Lo peor que le ha pasado en la vida: Dejar a su hermano solo, convirtiéndose en algo que Sirius no puede evitar.

¿Qué quiere ser cuando crezca?: Él cree que ya es todo lo que siempre quiso ser y no necesita nada más.

Idea de cita perfecta: No le gustan las citas.

#tgyedits #idk si tenia un tag but le dejo ese 8-)#ESTO ME TOMÓ AÑOS QUERÍA HACERLO BIEN <33 #( perfil personal. )

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custommachines · 5 years ago

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Harley-Davidson XR1200 By Easy Rider

Una XR1200 no es una mala base para hacer un Café Racer con empaque. Al contrario, su motor potenciado de fábrica y la parte ciclo, que estrenó con un tarado enérgico y geometría más deportiva para una Sportster, resulta ser muy adecuada para este uso. Así que, en un principio, Kim sólo tenía que cambiarle un poco la cara. Pero, como suele suceder en un taller, algunas cosas aparentemente sencillas esconden más trabajo del que sugieren, si quieres que el resultado sea redondo.

Texto: Patxi Mesa Fotos: Álvaro Cabezas Atienza

La Harley-Davidson XR1200 nació con vocación deportiva, una herencia de victorias en pista por parte de su inspiradora, la XR750 de carreras Dirt Track de los años setenta. Despertó mucha expectación y tuvo una buena acogida, pero las ventas no refrendaron ese éxito. Tal vez fue víctima de su tiempo pues, en Harley-Davidson, las cosas iban cada vez más rápido y la escalada tecnológica empujaba a lanzar nuevos modelos y rehacer familias, quedando pronto eclipsada por una oferta cada vez más atractiva. Con estos antecedentes, no es extraño que un buen día apareciese en el taller de Kim, Easy Rider en Gerona, un cliente con una XR 1200 un tanto descuidada. No se encontraba en verdadero mal estado pero digamos que, en tiempos, estuvo más atendida. Toni, el propietario, quería que su moto volviese a brillar con luz propia con un estilo más acorde con los tiempos. Es evidente que la opción Café Racer se barajó desde un primer momento. La conspiración ya estaba en marcha.

Sálvese quien pueda

Para empezar, toda la moto fue desmantelada pieza a pieza, tanto para un repaso visual como para el trabajo de pintura ya que, ésta, venía con el acabado de motor, basculante y tijas en plata satinado. Bonito, pero no adecuado para el efecto que buscaban. Vaya, empezamos pensando en cambiar dos detalles y ya tenemos toda la moto desarmada, en cajas, unas piezas colgando por ahí esperando la pintura, otras secando… Lo dicho, a veces existe mucho trabajo oculto para que el conjunto luzca de verdad. Por otro lado, esta XR es una moto con carácter y ya veremos cómo le sienta tanto manoseo cuando despierte.

Motor musculado

Una vez rearmado en su nuevo acabado al estilo ‘Dark’ de la Company, el propulsor se encontraba en un excelente estado de salud pero querían algo más y, de este modo, recibió un nuevo sistema de respiración. Y ya sabemos que cuanto mejor respire un motor, no el ruido que hace sino el caudal de aire que es capaz de procesar con una buena combustión, más potencia va a desarrollar. Para este fin, uno no se la juega. Algún sabio dijo: “Los experimentos, en casa, y con gaseosa”. En este caso estamos de acuerdo. Kim optó inteligentemente por una combinación ganadora: filtro de altas prestaciones K&N y escape Remus 2 en 1, también pensado para mejorar el rendimiento. Seamos sinceros, aquí nadie se quedó calvo. Fueron a tiro seguro. Y hay que saber dónde no y dónde sí merece la pena invertir el presupuesto, como en este caso. Para que éstas mejoras sean realmente efectivas, Kim reprogramó la centralita para conseguir el 100% de las actuales posibilidades del motor. No sabemos los caballos que desarrolla, más allá de los buenos 90 de serie, pero dan ganas de comprobarlo “in situ”.

Ciclo virgen, o casi

La parte dedicada al bastidor, y a la parte ciclo, vendría a ser un repaso de la ficha técnica original. Nada digno de mención excepto la nueva pintura. Bueno, no exactamente. En realidad, una de las piezas de este chasis se llevó una considerable paliza para satisfacer así las exigencias del guión: la nueva moto debía llevar semimanillares y un carenado. Para eso, se mecanizó la tija superior para eliminar los antiguos anclajes del manillar, llanearla y, así, despejarla tanto visualmente como para alojar los nuevos soportes de los relojes. El resultado final es espectacular.

Carenando la bestia

Dicen que se vieron obligados a atarla a un potro para inmovilizarla y poder trabajar en ella. Como un caballo salvaje al ensillarlo por primera vez, la moto se revolvía furiosa. Buena señal. Y por otro lado, normal: atado a un cacharro de hierro en un taller no es forma de despertar. Fueron muchos los componentes que se aprovecharon de la XR original, como pueden ser los puños, mandos, estribos, ambos depósitos, cualquiera se acercaba… Y, con trabajo y gran riesgo de su integridad, cambiaron otros como los retrovisores, ahora dos espejitos redondos en los contrapesos de los puños, los intermitentes delanteros, minimalistas y bien escogidos, y el LED trasero, que en una tira agrupa todas las funciones. Nadie hasta ese día había visto a una moto cocear. Vale, vamos a lo que interesa de verdad que para eso se ha quedado para el final: el carenado y el colín. Como hemos visto, asistimos a la creación de una Café Racer y es imperativo que ésta monte semimanillares tras un carenado redondito. Pues bien, además del trabajo mencionado en la tija superior, Kim diseñó y fabricó una araña para la cúpula y fabricó el carenado que ves, él solito y con fibra. Para rematar el conjunto necesitaba una zaga a la altura, así que cortó el colín original a medio asiento, más o menos, y rehízo por completo todo el conjunto con un final redondeado clásico y un asiento monoplaza fabricado a medida. Después se llevó a MAM Paint para que, con su arte, hiciesen su interpretación de un tema deportivo clásico, uniendo elementos insulares con otros motivos americanos. Con ayuda de unos amigos consiguieron ponérselo a la malhumorada XR que rugía por sus escapes. Alguien debería haberse dado cuenta de que el depósito de gasolina estaba vacío, la centralita sobre la mesa y los cables de bobina colgando…

Liberad al Kraken

Mientras le daban los últimos toques y tomaba su hermosa forma final, la goma trasera quemaba el suelo y las cinchas que la sujetaban empezaron a ceder. “Muy buena señal, está sana y muy cabreada”. Toni apenas tuvo tiempo de saltar encima y aferrarse a los manillares. Estaba acostumbrado a su vigoroso motor pero no pudo evitar sonreír al verse sorprendido por este nuevo carácter con el que finalmente se ha visto recompensado, en agradecimiento por una nueva oportunidad de brillar en la carretera. A la XR se le estaba pasando el enfado. Al cabo de un rato, ya con la moto desfogada, Toni volvió por el taller para conectar los cables, reapretar la tornillería, montar la centralita, y llenar el depósito… Ah, y cambiar la goma trasera que la niña había hecho trizas con el berrinche. Y para nada, mira cómo le gusta ahora su vestidito de carreras…

Generalidades

Propietario: Toni

Ciudad: Figueres

Marca y modelo de origen: H-D XR 1200

Transformada por: Easy Rider

MOTOR

Marca/Modelo: H-D/Evo XR

Año: 2009

Cilindrada: 1200c.c.

Filtro de aire: K&N

Escapes: Remus 2-1

ACCESORIOS

Manillar: Semis LSL

Retrovisores: En punta de manillar

Piloto: LED

Intermitentes: Micro bullet LED

Guardabarros tras: Colín Easy Rider

Asiento: Easy Rider

RUEDAS

Delantera: Stock120/70ZR18

Trasera: Stock 180/55ZR17

Frenos: Discos y pinzas originales

PINTURA Y ACABADOS

Pintura y molding: Custom Style

Cromados y pulidos: MAM Paint

Trabajo de fibra, cúpula y colín: Custom Style

CONTACTO

Easy Rider

C/ Emili Grahit, 58

CP 17003 – Girona

Tel.: 972 202 406

www.easyrider-shop.com

https://ift.tt/2JhJVSX

#motorcycle #customculture #custommoto #caferacer #bobber #bratstyle #scrambler #tracker #chopper #cu

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sophiaasmind · 7 years ago

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James & Lily

— ¿Por que se caso con el? Lo odiaba

Todos los días cruzaban miradas, la de ella aparentaba odio, la de el la acompañaba una sonrisa socarrona, y así por años, la relación que llevaban en los primeros años en Hogwarts se baso en molestarse mutuamente, pelear en el pasillo, al grado de lanzarse hechizos. Pero los sentimientos por parte de James comenzaron a cambiar conforme crecía, y Lily, se obligaba a no sentir algo mas que amistad por James, ¿pero como no sentir nada? El chico era guapo, su cabello era simplemente perfecto, la enloquecía cuando se revolvía su cabellera, cuando sonreía y reía por un chiste de sus amigos, porque detrás de las gafas habitaban unos hermosos ojos marrones, y a comparación de los demás, los del chico la derretían, pero obviamente no lo decía, escondía su rostro para que nadie viera que se sonrojaba, pero para los ojos de Remus y Sirius, nada pasaba por alto, al igual que ver James hablar de Lily entre sueños, o cuando apretaba los puños cuando un chico se le acercaba a la pelirroja, cuando el se le quedaba viendo con una sonrisa al verla morderse el labio, cuando las miradas de odio pasaban a ser de amor, porque los dos no se querían, se amaban, pero aun así no se lo decían. Intentaban todo para juntarlos, pero nunca pudieron, aquella pareja era la mas orgullosa del mundo.

Y en séptimo año, por fin se besaron, no fue planeado, ni se lo pensaron dos veces, en el ultimo estante de la biblioteca les pareció un lugar perfecto para ellos. Y después de tantas salidas a Hogsmeade, de perder familiares, de separarse por un tiempo y solo hablarse por cartas, se casaron, porque en medio de la guerra se puede encontrar la paz y el amor, y como resultado de su unión nació el pequeño Harry Potter.

— No, no lo odiaba

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kaelucfantasy · 8 months ago

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TROCITO 23

Despues de unos cuantos dias, pudimos volver a la mansión a seguir con nuestra tarea; aunque Diluc era quien dirigía mas las conversaciones con los caballeros de Favonius para organizar los posibles contraataques de los fatui, yo era el que solia estar en todas las reuniones junto a ellos.

Doblamos los esfuerzos para registrar y leer toda la documentación que habíamos rescatado del despacho de Crepus, pues todo podia dar referencia a algo del tema que estábamos tratando.

Pero aun asi, mi mente estaba mas centrado en intentar averiguar donde podria quedar aun algun domador de bestias que nombraba el texto del libro, pues creia que era necesario para cuidar de Diluc en una posible verdad de que nuestras sospechas fueran ciertas.

—Remus…

La voz de Jean hizo que levantara mi cabeza despertando de mis pensamientos, ella estaba extendiendo una larga lista escrita en pergaminos sueltos de varias paginas. Torcí mi rostro al ver su cara de preocupación y lo tome en mis manos, comenzando a darle un vistazo.

A medida de que iba leyendo aquella lista, algunos nombres hicieron que el aliento se me cortara, levantándome de golpe de mi asiento.

Necesitaba que una persona lo leyera en este momento.

************************************************************************

Diluc volvio a su dormitorio despues de un intenso entrenamiento, pues cuando peleo en la batalla en Mondstadt se sintio que habia perdido fuerzas y necesitaba prepararse para lo que pudiera suceder.

Al abrir las puertas, se encontro a Kaeya sentado sobre su cama cabecibajo leyendo unos pergaminos antiguos.

—¿Kae? -pregunto con voz suave, acercandose suavemente hacia él

—¿Eh? -Kaeya levanto su cabeza e intento sonreírle —Hola Luc… ¿todo bien?

—Todo bien -Diluc se sentó junto a él dando un suspiro —¿Malas noticias?

—No… -dijo con voz quebrada —solo dolorosas…

—Eh… Kae…

Diluc acaricio su cabello con suavidad, pudo notar como los labios de Kaeya se arrugaron aguantando un puchero.

—Es… es una lista de supervivientes de K’haendria que capturaron los fatui… -dijo Kaeya sin ser capaz de mirarle al rostro

Diluc miro por encima los papeles, descubriendo que estaba escrito a puño y letra de su padre, su vista vago rapidamente por encima de los nombres, los cuales al lado de cada uno, estaba escrito o un numero o si estaba muerto; entre los nombres, el apellido Albrechi estaba sobre el papel.

—Albrechi…

—Mi padre… -dijo Kaeya roto —no sobrevivió a la captura… seguramente los fatui que nos perseguían estaban muy enfadados por nuestra resistencia…

—¿Tu, estabas huyendo de ellos? -pregunto Diluc intentando mirar su rostro, pero el cabello de Kaeya y su parche evitaba poder verlo

—No lo recuerdo muy bien… recuerdo que estuvimos moviéndonos sin parar… no teniamos ni tiempo para comer y aquel dia, yo estaba ardiendo en fiebres… ¿te acuerdas?

—Si… por un momento crei que te nos ibas…

Diluc recordaba como Adeline, su padre y los médicos corrían de un lado a otro mientras se esforzaban de que Kaeya sobreviviera.

—Mi padre… viendo que yo no podia seguir… me abandono y sirvió de cebo para que los fatuis no me encontraran…

Diluc iba a tomar su mano pero Kaeya se la retiro, girando su rostro hacia otro lado.

—¿Kae? -pregunto Diluc confuso

— …ese dia… recuerdo a mi padre decirme “debes espiarlos… eres nuestra única esperanza” -dijo Kaeya roto

—¿Espiarnos? -Diluc seguia confuso

—Si… es lo único que recuerdo claramente, al principio pensaba que solo era un sueño, pero cuando fui creciendo entendí que queria mi padre que supieran donde estaban todos los capturados, ya que la ciudad estaba lleno de fatuis, para un dia que nos volviéramos a encontrar, pudiéramos rescatarlos… Remus cree que de alguna forma mi padre sabia que Crepus tenia relación con los fatui pero… eso nunca lo sabremos…

—Pero Kae…

—¡Diluc! -exclamo Kaeya sin mirarlo pero habia empezado a llorar —yo lo mantuve en secreto esto hasta la muerte de Crepus… aquel dia te lo conté y toda tu rabia se volvio en mi contra… y no te culpo porque sentiste que yo no habia acudido a ayudarte a protegerlo cuando el dragon ataco…- se tapo la cara mientras lloraba de rabia —¡ojalá hubiera podido salir antes! ¡Ojala haber estado en el lugar de Crepus!

Sin esperárselo, Diluc agarro sus ropas obligándole a girarse hacia él. Sus labios contactaron con los suyos, suaves y cálidos, hicieron que el corazón de Kaeya se acelerara en su pecho, cortando su llanto durante aquel segundo que se hizo eterno entre ellos en la oscuridad de la habitación del atardecer, hasta que se separaron, viendo como los ojos de Diluc se clavaban por un instante en su rostro, para despues enterrar su rostro en su pecho.

—¿Lo… recordaste?… -pregunto Kaeya tartamudo

—Lo siento mucho… -dijo Diluc con voz rota

Kaeya suspiro y rodeo con sus brazos a Diluc, acercándolo mas contra su pecho mientras apoyaba su menton sobre su cabeza.

—Yo tambien lo siento… -murmuro Kaeya

—Me deje llevar por la rabia… solo sentia sed de sangre y queria exterminar a todos los fatui… me habia sentido engañado y traicionado… pero despues… me di cuenta que habia alejado a muchos que solo querían mi bien o que hice cosas que no debía haber hecho… pero… pero despues…

—Te era imposible pedir perdon ¿verdad?… se lo que se siente… yo tampoco era sincero… se que intente volver a tu lado y rehacer nuestros lazos, pero nunca empece con lo importante, que era pedirte perdon

—Kaeya…

—¿Uh?

—Yo… mmmm… te quiero…

—Y yo a ti…

—Pero…

—Lo sé… no somos hermanos, tu mismo lo dijiste…

—¡Pero eso lo dije en un momento de enojo! -dijo Diluc levantando su rostro

—Pero eso no quita que no tengas razón

—No te sigo…

—Hemos visto que Crepus no me adopto de manera legal según las leyes, ademas nunca me presentaba como a su hijo… ademas, nunca mis sentimientos contigo fueron fraternos…

—Te odio… -dijo Diluc inflando sus mofletes

—Hahaha… este es mi Diluc

Kaeya le tomo de su rostro y le devolvió el beso en sus labios, Diluc se encogió al sentir su contacto pero despues, lentamente sus manos se colocaron en la espalda de Kaeya mientras se besaban hasta que rompieron el beso.

—¿Es todo el secreto que escondías?

—No… hay algo mas… -Kaeya tomo el libro que había pedido a Lisa y se lo dio —pero necesito que leas esto…

Diluc tomo el libro entre sus manos confuso. Habia visto que ambos habíamos leído este libro y no entendia que nos llevábamos con él, pero cuando lo tomo entre sus manos su corazón se acelero.

Ya era el momento de saber que era lo que estaba sucediendo.

END TROCITO 23

PD: Por fin un besito. Se que realmente el hilo conductor es mi personaje pero veía mas comodo que otro personaje fuera quien hiciera de detective que otro. Os quiero

#diluc ragnvindr #kaeluc #kaeya alberich

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edupunkn00b · 3 years ago

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Punks, Poets, Parents

Ch. 1 Attitude - Next - Master Post - [ A03 ]

Rated M - WC: 2172 - CW: Swearing, alcohol Written for the Thomas Sanders Big Bang creative event and will feature some awesome art by @vianadraws (here) and @briandthemoon (here). Beta read by @naminethewriter, @treeni, and @typically-untypical

Don’t care what you may say We got that attitude! Don’t care what you may do We got that attitude! - Attitude, Bad Brains

Fic playlist on Spotify ---

Thursday, October 6, 1983 - New York City

Remus was half-way down the cement steps when he heard the whine of the subway and felt the rush of hot air that signaled a train was starting to pull into the station. Judging by the direction of the sound, it was on his side of the platform. He ran the rest of the way down, tightening the strap on the bass case on his back and fishing in his pocket for a subway token. He sprinted to the turnstile, dropping in the token and pushing through the big yellow barrier just as the train doors opened.

Happily relying on the ignorance of strangers, he smiled. People only saw a tall man in spiked leather and bright green hair and hurried to get out of his way as he ran for the closest open door. They never considered he was just another hamster in the wheel, trying to get somewhere on time. His heel had just cleared the doors when they closed with a thunk and the train began to move. Grinning wildly, Remus grabbed a pole just in time to avoid being thrown in the lap of the closest passenger as the train jolted to a start.

---

Logan stepped out of his tiny bedroom into the equally tiny living room. Patton dropped his feet off the edge of the coffee table a half-second after he entered the room. Logan raised an eyebrow at his little brother, who flashed his trademarked ‘I’m too cute to hate’ grin. He shook his head but was unable to completely suppress his smile. Quickly he scooted past the television, heading to the kitchen for one last sip of coffee before leaving for this evening’s performance.

Patton peeled his eyes from Schneider’s antics on the television, finally registering Logan’s concert attire. "Ooohh… I really like that shade of blue! It brings out your eyes!"

Bowing his head slightly in thanks, Logan tilted his head at Patton, pocketing his keys and wallet. "Are you quite certain you do not wish to join me tonight? I expect this performance to be quite compelling. I am confident we can purchase another ticket at the door."

"Nah, you have fun! I’m making an early home visit tomorrow and I'm feeling like an old drum…" Patton grinned and danced his shoulders back and forth, waiting for the groan his pun was certain to earn.

Instead, all he got was an indulgent smile and a sigh. "Would that be because you are figuratively 'beat?’"

Patton threw his head back and giggled, clapping his hands. "Who says you're no good at puns?"

“An understanding of the root of a pun does not necessitate an appreciation for the so-called humor of a given pun,” Logan replied dryly. “I have noticed a marked similarity between your favored style of puns and those practiced by my first graders.” Logan winked, in too good of a mood to maintain his feigned annoyance. Patton laughed and ducked as Logan reached out to muss his little brother's hair on his way to the door. After checking his pockets one more time, Logan crouched to tie his laces. ”Turn off the t.v. before you go to bed, all right? And keep the door locked, please. I have my key."

"You got it, Warden. Have fun!"

---

Hilly Kristal poked his head into the tiny, sticker-lined green room behind the stage at CBGB's. “You’ve drawn quite a crowd tonight, boys! Can you hear them?”

Virgil sat cross-legged on the counter in the corner, applying and reapplying his stage make-up in front of a small mirror he held with one hand. He frowned and made a face at Hilly. “Don’t remind us.”

Roman grinned broadly and stood behind his boyfriend, waiting for him to put down the eye pencil before wrapping his arms around him, pressing a kiss against his neck. “Oh, you know the crowd loves you, Vee.” He gripped Virgil’s chin, gently turning his head so their eyes could meet. “It’s almost enough to make me jealous….”

Blushing and fighting the grin pulling at his lips, Virgil returned to his make-up, muttering, “Oh, shut up,” without malice. Roman’s smile only grew and he released the drummer and allowed him to continue his preparations. Virgil turned and eyed the lead singer’s skin tight red leather pants, ripped shirt that revealed more than it covered, and velvet cape draped dramatically over one shoulder. “You know everyone in the audience is just going to drool over you, Ro.”

“He’s got you there, Ro Bro.” Remus leaned against the doorway, half-watching their flirtation and half-listening to the markedly louder crowd in the main area of the club. “What do you think tonight’s take is, Hilly?”

Hilly lit a cigarette and smiled. “It's looking like double last week's.” He blew a puff of smoke away from Remus’ face. “Word is out on you boys.” He took another drag on the cigarette before checking his watch. “You’re up in ten minutes.” Hilly turned to leave, calling and laughing over his shoulder, “Just remember who gave you your start, yeah?”

Shaking his head, Remus picked up his bass and checked the tuning. Roman started his round of warmups, chugging a sports drink and muttering about red and yellow leather. Remus rolled his eyes, smiling to himself. You can take the kid out of the theatre….

They were half-way through their set and Roman signaled to Remus to start their new song. Remus swallowed hard. This was their first song he had written completely on his own and Roman stepped away from the mic, letting Remus take lead vocals. He heard Virgil step down the tempo slightly, starting the familiar beat of his song. Looking down at his battered instrument, Remus started picking out the bass line. The light vibrations from the steel strings buzzed through his arms and against his hips before being amplified through the speakers surrounding the stage. He closed his eyes, letting the pounding drums meld together with the bass, listening as Roman picked up the melody on his guitar.

Slowly, the tension, the crowd, his anxieties, it all just melted away and all that was left was the music pulsing out through his fingertips and out in the universe. He opened his eyes and stepped closer to the microphone, lips brushing against the mesh, feeling his mustache scrape across the top. He started to sing.

How can you Even see me When I can’t see myself

His voice started in his signature low rasp, which, as Roman would point out, repeatedly, wasn’t strictly singing. One late night, hours into a marathon rehearsal session, Remus had finally lost his temper and shouted at his brother, “Well what the fuck would you call it, then, Manilow?”

Roman sputtered, “It—it sounds like you’re—” his face matched his signature cape and he turned his back to Remus, draining the last of the beer next to his mic stand.

Finally Virgil interjected, muttering to Remus, “Just let it go, man. Let it go." He'd tapped out a rhythm on the snare. "C'mon, let’s pick up right before the bridge….”

Shaking off the memory, Remus sang the next verse.

How can you Even see me When I can’t be myself

Remus looked out into the audience. As expected, all eyes were drawn to his brother. Remus glanced over and saw Roman swinging his hips, hands dancing up and down the neck of his guitar, ever the showman, even when he wasn’t singing lead. Remus swiveled back to face the mic. He’d been mistaken. Roman hadn’t captured every set of eyes in the audience.

Near him, standing just a few feet away from the lip of the stage, was a guy in tight jeans, a black, long-sleeved flannel, and knee high Doc Martens. His neck was draped with thin chains and he had spiky electric blue hair. His eyes never strayed from Remus.

All alone When I’m walkin’ Right through the glimm’ring light

Remus kept his gaze for a moment, watching as Blue’s eyes grew at that verse, before looking down for the next verse.

And they hate And they mock me But I won’t stop my fight

Remus risked another look, expecting to see that Blue had figured out that Roman was the one to watch.

Blue’s eyes were locked on him. Stay on target…. Remus started the next verse just before Virgil would have to start the section again.

How can you Even see me When I walk

Can you see me When they mock Can you see me

Blue’s eyes were answering his question.

Everything else faded away.

All the other sounds in the club, the bodies slamming against each other on the dance floor, Roman’s gyrations next to him, the frenetic, pounding beat of Virgil’s drums, all of it just fizzled away.

All that was left was his music, his words, and Blue.

When they bite Can you see me When they hate Can you see me

How can you Even feel me

They moved seamlessly into the next song in the set and Roman picked up the lead vocals for the next several songs, one of which included a tricky bass solo that Remus and Virgil created together. Remus looked up during their next song and he saw Blue out in the audience, not quite as close to the stage. Blue was watching him. Remus missed a note and Roman shot him an angry look, so he dragged his eyes back down to the bass in his hands, biting his lip, forcing his fingers to obey.

The next time Remus looked up, he caught a tiny glimmer of Blue’s hair over by the bar. Virgil counted off for their last song of the night and Remus poured his attention into his playing. The last song was always the one everyone remembered best and he was going to deliver. He just hoped Roman remembered the new verse he wrote.

On the beach At night alone You let go

All my world All my soul All the world belonged to you All my heart All my blood All my world belonged to you

Remus looked up as he played the last note, eyes scanning the crowd for that lovely electric blue. There was a sea of colors and shapes in the crowd, but Remus couldn’t spot his Blue. Fuck, dude, possessive much? Maybe learn the guy’s name first. Remus shook his head and unplugged his bass before following Roman and Virgil off the stage, heading back to the green room.

Just before ducking into the microscopic room, Remus scanned the crowd one more time, hoping to catch a glimpse of that lovely blue-tressed man. Not spotting him, he shrugged, then joined his bandmates, calling out, “All right, Friend, Roman, countrymen, what’s next?”

---

Logan yawned as he tiptoed into his apartment. As he’d anticipated, Patton had fallen asleep on the couch. Chuckling lightly under his breath, he turned around and locked and chained the door behind him, gently placing his keys and wallet in the little bowl by the door. He slipped off his shoes and walked over to where Patton was sprawled in front of the still-on television, currently playing an I Love Lucy rerun.

Smiling and shaking his head, he turned the knob on the television until it clicked off. He then opened up the blanket draped over the back of the couch, covering his brother. Patton woke when he nudged a pillow close to the back of his head, trying to ensure he wouldn’t wake up with a wry neck.

Patton’s eyes blinked open and he squinted, trying to focus on Logan’s face. Logan chuckled again, “Pat, are you certain you would not be more comfortable in your own bed?”

“Nah, big bro, ‘s cozy here… Mmmm… How’s the concert?”

Logan smiled, “It was a remarkable performance. They played some original works tonight, including a debut...” Logan’s voice trailed off and nodded almost absently, looking at nothing in particular. His lips curled up at the edges and he tapped his fingers to a beat only he could hear. Feeling Patton’s eyes on him, he cleared his throat and continued. “In addition to their usual repertoire of classics, of course. Quite enjoyable and certainly worth the late hour on a school night.”

“Hmmm… tha’s good. ‘Night, Lo …,” Patton mumbled, drifting back to sleep.

Logan kissed his brother on the head and chuckled. Twenty-four and still hasn’t grown out of falling asleep with the television on. “Pleasant dreams, Patton. See you in the morning.”

Logan took a moment to drink a full glass of water and take his vitamins before making his way to his room. He removed his contacts in the bathroom, swapping them for his usual black-framed eyeglasses. As part of his typical nightly routine, he scrubbed his face before brushing and flossing his teeth. When he was done, he used a clean paper towel to wipe down the sink, counter, and mirror, leaving the tiny bathroom shining in the dim light.

After flicking off the bathroom and hallway lights, Logan returned to his room and changed into pajamas. He hung his pants and put the rest of his concert clothes in the hamper. Walking past his dresser, he double-checked his alarm clock, briefly testing the volume, then took a moment to straighten the bright blue wig carefully set on its stand next to his clock. He smiled, then turned off the light and climbed into bed. ---

Image credit by Adam Dicarlo on Wikimedia Commons

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edupunkn00b · 3 years ago

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Punks, Poets, Parents

Prev - Ch. 9: Family - Next - Master Post - [ A03 ]

Fic rated M, this chapter rated T - CW: referenced past drug abuse, implied alcoholism, implied past child abuse/neglect, mild violence (between adults), swearing - WC: 2931

I have stood here before inside the pouring rain With the world turning circles running ‘round my brain I guess I’m always hoping that you’ll end this reign But it’s my destiny To be the king of pain - King of Pain, The Police

Fic playlist on Spotify ---

Thursday, March 8, 1984

When Patton came home that evening, he slammed the door hard enough to rattle the juice glasses in the cupboard next to the stove. Logan lowered the flame on that night's stew and poked his head out from the kitchen. While concerned by the uncharacteristic vehemence with which Patton had shut the door, Logan was relieved to be able to see Patton before he left to watch Jay during The Fists weekly sets at the club. Their schedules had begun to criss-cross and they hadn’t had more than a few minutes together to talk all week. “Pat? Are you all right?”

Kicking off his shoes and yanking off his jacket, Patton scoffed, snarling, “I’m fine.”

Narrowing his eyes, Logan stepped closer, reaching out to help disentangle Patton from his jacket when the sleeve caught on a shirt button. Patton stilled, breathing heavily, and allowed Logan to free him, nodding a thanks as he hung up his jacket in the hall closet.

“You do not appear to be fine, Pat,�� Logan murmured in an even tone.

Shaking his head, Patton stomped into the kitchen. “I really can't talk to you about this.”

Frowning, Logan followed. “Confidentiality issues?”

Patton yanked open the door to the refrigerator, wincing as the ketchup and other condiments in the door shelves clanked against each other. He poked his head inside and rooted around for a minute before slamming the door shut again, empty-handed. He didn’t respond.

Logan felt his stomach drop to the floor. “Is this about Jay’s case?”

Brow furrowed, Patton looked away.

“What has happened, Patton?” Logan demanded in a quiet voice.

Sighing heavily, Patton sank down into a kitchen chair. “Alice Heaney’s name came up on a records check at Rikers. She’s being held on possession with intent to distribute and solicitation.”

Logan shook his head as he joined Patton at the table, sitting across from him. “Well, that would certainly explain why she has appeared to have abandoned Jay.” He crossed his arms and shook his head. “Remus told me the landlord formally evicted her for non-payment last month. She’d been seven months behind on rent.”

Patton looked up, clearly surprised. Logan shrugged, “The guy was nice enough to let Remus take anything that appeared to be Jay’s when the Marshall came.” He scowled. “There was not much.”

Patton pressed his lips together and rubbed at a scuff on the table, not meeting Logan’s eyes. “Is there more?” Logan asked, stiffening in his seat.

Scratching at the back of his neck, Patton nodded. “Her arrest triggered a review of the case.” He closed his eyes. “My supervisor believes Jay’s current living situation is unsafe and has directed me to remove him and place him in a sanctioned foster home.”

“What!?”

Patton stood up without responding, pulling down a glass and filling it at the sink. He drank half of it before shaking his head. “There’s nothing I can do, Lo.”

“Pat, please… You are talking about removing Jay from a home where he is cared for and loved.” Logan stood and walked over to the sink. He rested his hand on Patton’s shoulder. “You must see past the hair dye and tattoos. Since Remus has been caring for Jay, his test scores have gone up, he no longer hides in the supply closet during gym class, he doesn’t fall asleep in class anymore. He actually laughed during recess last week. That traumatized little boy laughed. It was the first sound I have heard him make at school all year long.”

Logan gently turned Patton to face him. “That child is already in the best possible care he could be.”

“You know, Lo, I’d have a much easier time believing that you were truly and objectively working in the best interests of this child if you…” Patton grimaced, and turned away from his brother.

“If I what, Patton?,” Logan demanded, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“If you… you know… if you weren’t in love with this man,” Patton finally admitted.

Logan scowled, trying to force away the blush he could feel spreading across his face. “Any personal attachments I may have—that is—” Logan’s words failed him at his brother’s raised eyebrow. Setting his jaw, Logan burst out, “Would you believe that I am only working in Jay’s best interests if I cut off all personal communication with Re—Mr. Puños?” He grit his teeth, his words coming out in a near growl. “Would that sufficiently convince you to fight for this child to stay with the first adult in his life who has actually given a damn about him?”

Patton clenched his jaw, “It would help, yes!”

“Well, fine, then, that’s what I’ll do!” Logan’s chest heaved and his eyes started to burn. “But you damn well better let Jay stay where he is!”

“I don’t know if there’s a way that I can—”

“Find a way!” Logan shouted.

“Fine!” Patton crossed his arms and stormed out of the room. A moment later, he heard Patton’s door slam. Logan stared after him, his own hands shaking.

Blowing out a harsh breath, Logan tugged at his hair, swearing under his breath. After a few minutes, he looked up at the clock and realized he was due to watch Jay in less than ten minutes. He swore again, turning off the burner and covering the pot on the stove. Quickly pulling on his jacket and grabbing his keys and wallet, he shoved his feet into his loafers and left for Remus’, letting the door slam behind him.

---

The roar of the amps and the energy of the audience still pounding through his body, Remus bopped his head as he packed away his bass and the rest of his gear. Roman came up behind him and clapped him hard on the shoulder.

“Re! That… that was a perfect set, man!” Roman gripped a half-finished beer in one hand. He grinned a little too broadly at his brother.

Remus nodded, squeezing Roman’s shoulder in return, steadying him slightly when he swayed. “Thanks, Ro Bro! You sounded amazing tonight.” He returned to his gig bag, checking to be sure he had his cables and journal stowed safely away. Roman drained the last of his beer and shoulder-bumped Remus.

“Get your shit, Re!” Roman laughed loudly, “We’re heading out to Iggy’s… They’re doing green jello shots tonight…” Virgil looked up from where he was packing up his own gig bag. His jaw was clenched.

Peering closely at Roman, Remus gripped his arm, “Um, maybe some other time, I uh—”

“Fuck, Remus! You haven’t come out with us in months! I know you got your whole Ward Cleaver thing going on but, c’mon….” Virgil stepped around from behind the drum kit and moved closer to the brothers.

Shaking his head, Remus put down his bag and rested his hand on Roman’s other side. “Hey, hey, Ro Bro… nah, man, you know why I don’t wanna go to a bar….”

Scowling, Roman shook himself free of Remus’ grasp. “Yeah, whatever…” He jumped down off the stage and threw his empty cup in the trash. When he got to the bar, he leaned over it with puppy dog eyes, waving to get Bennie’s attention.

Remus looked over his shoulder, briefly meeting Virgil’s eyes before continuing to watch his brother. He spoke quietly, “How much has he had?”

Virgil shoved his hands in his pockets, kicking at a sticker stuck to the stage. “That’s at least his fifth.” He shrugged when Remus whipped his head around to stare at him. “He had a few between sets.”

“Fuck.”

Sighing heavily, Remus jumped off the stage. Bennie was off at the other end of the bar, seemingly too busy with some closing task to pour another drink for Roman. Rolling his eyes as Remus approached, he snapped, “What?”

Remus raised his hands in a surrender pose, “Nothing, Ro, nothing. Just… just didn’t wanna leave things like that.”

“You know, a couple beers is not the same thing as smack, man.” Roman glared at him. “You can still have a good time and not end up with a needle in your arm again.”

“Look—I…” Remus sighed heavily, leaning on the bar next to Roman. “You don’t know that and I don’t wanna take the chance that…” He sucked his teeth, blowing out a sharp breath. “This shit runs in families, Ro. Maybe….”

“What? You’re gonna tell me what I get to do now?” Roman rose and stepped closer to Remus. “And don’t tell me shit about families.” Fists tight at his sides, he snarled, “You left.”

Remus stood up, taking a half step back, staring up at Roman’s darkened eyes. “Ro, can we not do this right now?”

“Oh, you gonna run away from me?” Roman took another step forward, chest just touching Remus’.

Gritting his teeth, Remus hissed back, “Dammit, Ro, you know… I—I didn’t just fucking leave….” Remus closed his eyes and took another step backwards. “Look, Ro, just call it a night. I know around our birthday’s rough, but you’re drunk, man, you—”

Without warning, Roman swung wildly at Remus’ face, his fist just catching the side of his chin.

Jumping off the stage, Virgil rushed over. “Hey, hey, hey, guys…” He got in between the brothers. Remus took a step back. “Babe, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Virgil put his arm around Roman’s waist, stroking his hip. “Let’s just go home… Everyone's tired. It was a good set.” He tilted his head, trying to catch Roman’s eyes. Virgil smiled when Roman finally looked at him. “Let’s go home, Babe,” he repeated softly.

When Roman started to nod and allow himself to be led away from the bar and his brother, Virgil and Remus both released the breaths they’d been holding. Looking over his shoulder, Virgil murmured to Remus, “See you Tuesday?”

Rubbing his jaw, Remus frowned, “Yeah, man. Tuesday.”

---

Remus put down his gig bag and shoved his keys back into his jacket pocket when he got home, turning around to lock the door behind him. He grinned when he looked out into the living room and saw Logan sitting on the couch. Remus’ Walt Whitman Collection was open on his lap, and his head tilted against the backrest of the couch, lips slightly parted, fast asleep.

After undoing his boots, Remus tiptoed over to the couch, carefully marking Logan’s page. He glanced down to see which poem he’d been reading and chuckled quietly. The book had been opened to As if a Phantom Caress’d Me, the poem that had inspired the song Remus had played the first night he saw Logan at the club. “You figured it out,” he whispered.

Remus looked up when he heard footsteps in the hallway. Jay stood in the doorway, fingers twisting together. “Hey, Bud, you okay?” Remus put down the book on the coffee table next to Logan’s little packet of kleenex and stepped closer to Jay.

The boy flung himself at his legs, hugging him tightly and tucking his face between his arm and his hip. “Oh, Jay, did you have a nightmare?” Remus felt his little head nod against his arm, so he bent down to pick him up, rubbing his back. “Oh, Buddy, you’re safe, you’re safe.” He glanced back at Logan and, seeing him still asleep, he whispered to Jay, “Let’s let Mr. Sanders sleep a little more, huh?” Jay nodded and put his head down on Remus’ shoulder as he brought him back to bed.

He hummed as he tucked Jay back into bed, first flipping the pillows over and fluffing them up, then fishing out his little blue Grover toy from the tangled sheets. Jay smiled, reaching for the toy. Remus made a whooshing sound, flying him into the boy’s hands as he muttered quietly, “It is I, Suuuper Grover!”

Once Jay was settled under the covers, blinking slowly, Remus bent over and smoothed his hair, whispering, “Good night, Jay.” Jay’s hand snaked out, grabbing his sleeve as he turned to leave. Remus turned back and Jay brushed his hand over his outstretched arm, approximating the sign for ‘sing’.

Remus smiled down at Jay, brushing his hair from his forehead. “You want a song first?” Jay nodded rapidly, eyes wide. “Sure thing, Buddy.” Remus sat down on the edge of the bed, and, after thinking for a moment, smiled again and started to quietly sing.

Every time I look into your lovely eyes I can see a love that money just can’t buy

In the other room, Logan woke to the sound of Remus’ singing. Blinking, he looked around the living room, brow furrowed. Gradually, his forehead smoothed when he glanced at the clock and, after realizing he’d been asleep for over an hour, started to piece together what was going on. Listening to Remus’ quiet singing, he stood and put away the book of poetry Remus had set down on the coffee table.

One look from you, I drift away I pray that you are here to stay

Logan slapped his hand over his mouth as he felt a sob try to escape his lips. He swallowed hard, wrapping one arm around his abdomen, rocking slightly and pushing back the tears, fighting to control his breathing.

Anything you want, you got it Anything you need, you got it Anything at all, you got it Baby

Every time I hold you, I begin to understand Everything about you tells me you’re just grand

Logan heard Jay giggle at the modified line and he wondered how many times Remus had sung this song to the little boy.

I live my life to be with you I want to give the world to you

Logan started to pace, shaking his head, arms still wrapped around himself.

Anything you want, you got it Anything you need, you got it Anything at all, you got it Anything you want Anything you need Anything at all

Logan stood still once he heard a quiet creak and soon saw Remus emerge from the room, a soft little smile dancing on his lips.

Remus smiled broadly at him over his shoulder as he pulled Jay's door mostly closed. He moved closer to Logan and slipped his arms around his waist, pulling him in to a slow, soft kiss. Logan closed his eyes, melting into the heat of Remus’ hands against his body, shivering at the little sparks where mustache grazed his lips.

He broke away when he felt a low groan start to push its way up from his chest, and they stared at each other for a moment, both breathless. When Logan opened his mouth as though to speak, Remus tilted his chin toward the kitchen. He took his hand and led him further from the bedroom door where their voices wouldn't carry as much and risk waking the boy again.

Remus started a kettle and they sat quietly together, waiting for the water to boil. Logan was lost in thought, swirling the cold remnants of his cup from earlier in the evening.

"How often does he have nightmares?" Logan asked, looking down into his half-drunk tea.

Remus sighed, pouring a fresh cup for each of them. "It used to be almost every night." He frowned into his cup and took a sip. "He'd be inconsolable. He’d take a couple hours to calm down. But now?" He shrugged. "A couple times a week, maybe? And he settles right back down."

"You have been so good for him," Logan whispered, voice cracking. He finally looked up to meet his eyes.

Remus chuckled, "It goes both ways."

Logan covered his mouth with his hand, holding his breath. "Remus, I… We…" He sighed and looked down at his hands. After several moments, he spoke again, voice low and toneless. "I have behaved inappropriately with you. I… I allowed my infatuation with you to color my judgement and—”

"No, no, you haven't been inappropriate." Remus moved to the chair closer to Logan, taking his hands. "We… I… I kissed you first," Remus tried to catch his eyes, letting out a half laugh.

Logan shook his head, "This cannot be a personal relationship. I am Jay's teacher. You are his guardian. We—” he pressed his lips together, breathing hard through his nose. "There can be no 'we.' Not in that way."

"If you're afraid of people at the school finding out—” Remus reached up to cup Logan's cheek and he jerked away. Remus dropped his hand as though burned. "Logan, please… no. Don't let fear get between us."

Logan looked away, speaking through gritted teeth. "There is no 'us,' Remus."

"No. No, I can't just accept that." Remus stood then crouched in front of Logan, bending his head until Logan had to face him. "No." He shook his head. "Logan, I… I love you. And… if you don't love me, too, then—” his voice broke.

Logan wouldn't face him.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me, too, and I'll back off." Remus reached for Logan's hands, waiting for him to turn and face him. Logan gently squeezed his hands.

He took a breath and stared into warmth and love and hope swimming in Remus’ eyes. Remus started to smile and Patton's words echoed in Logan's mind. 'That would be so much easier to believe… if you weren't in love with this man.'

"I do not love you."

His whispered words roared through the quiet kitchen. Remus' smile vanished and he sat back on the floor, dropping Logan's hands.

"I am sorry for leading you to believe that I felt differently." Logan stood, unable to look at him. "I should go. I… I sincerely hope I have not damaged our cooperative efforts to assist Jay."

Remus shook himself, rising to his feet. "No. No, of course not.” He sounded like someone else, his voice quiet and hollow. “You're Jay's favorite teacher. He lo—he adores you. I can be a grown up and not fuck that up."

He nodded slightly, "I expected nothing less from you." Logan quietly walked to the front door, putting on his shoes and his jacket. Silently, Remus shuffled after him. Logan opened the door, glancing back one more time at Remus before clenching his jaw and turning away. "Good night, Mr. Puños."

Remus made a small choked sound, but replied, "Good night, Mr. Sanders.” Logan eased the door shut behind him, careful not to let it slam.

---

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edupunkn00b · 3 years ago

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Punks, Poets, Parents - Chapter 7: What Do You Know?

Prev - Ch. 7: What Do You Know? - Next - Master Post - [ A03 ]

Fic rated M, this chapter rated T - CW: implied past child abuse/neglect, swearing, implied past drug abuse, implied character hangover - WC: 2876 - Hey, I feel some barbs poking through this fluff…

Everything happens Don’t look for patterns You only perceive what you believe - What Do You Know?, Buzzcocks Fic playlist on Spotify ---

Thursday, November 10, 1983

Patton and Logan were washing up after an unusually quiet dinner. Patton was so subdued that, by the end of the evening Logan had found himself laying down setups for puns. None of which Patton had picked up.

Logan adjusted his glasses with the back of his wrist, trying to keep the dish suds away from the lenses. “Pat?” He carefully placed a soapy dish into the basin next to him where Patton was rinsing the dishes before placing them in the dish drainer.

“Uh, yeah?” Patton stared down at the dish in his hands, continuing to rinse the clean plate.

“Is something bothering you?” Logan glanced over at his brother just as Patton looked up. Their eyes met and Logan looked pointedly at Patton’s lip which he’s bitten to the point of bleeding. “You seem like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Accepting the next soapy plate, Patton started to shake his head before dropping the plate into the basin and turning to Logan. “No, I mean, yes. Yes there is.” He let out a little sigh. “I’m not supposed to talk about it, though.”

“Confidentiality?”

Patton nodded, frowning into the basin of suds, dragging a finger through the bubbles left behind.

“I understand.” Logan nodded as he picked up a saucepan. He added a bit more soap to the scrubby part of the sponge and attacked a burnt spot on the bottom of the pan. “I have similar restrictions when I learn private things about my students.”

“What if… well….”

Logan looked at Patton out of the corner of his eye. Patton picked up the plate, rinsing the suds away. He put the plate in the drainer and turned off the water, turning to his brother again. “What if we talked about it in a more… professional way? If I talked to you in your capacity as a teacher, it wouldn’t be a breach of confidence, it would be a social worker reaching out to a related professional.”

Logan frowned. “That would make sense if the case that concerns you involved a student at my school, particularly if he or she were a student in my class—” he stopped talking when Patton raised his eyebrow. “Oh… The child that concerns you is one of my students.”

Patton slowly nodded, pressing his lips tightly together.

Returning his attention to the saucepan, Logan continued scrubbing. “Well, I suppose then that speaking with me, one professional to another, in the interests of the child, of course, would provide you the opportunity to speak your mind.”

Patton let out a long breath, shoulders slumping down into their usual position. “Oh, thank god! I wasn’t going to be able to hold it in any longer.”

“I’m listening, Pat.”

Patton stood a little straighter and started speaking quickly. "Okay, there's this little boy in your class. He's got failure to thrive and—”

"Jay Heaney," Logan continued to scrub at the bottom of the saucepan.

"Janus, yes…"

"He will respond better to 'Jay.'" Logan faced Patton, "You should call him his preferred name when you speak with him."

"Isn't he mute? The file said he can't talk."

Logan frowned, scrubbing the pan a little harder, working on an old scorch mark. "Obviously, I am not an expert in child psychology, however I have observed that in an environment in which he feels secure, he makes an effort to communicate."

Logan's scrubbing slowed as he recalled the night he'd watched Jay happily sit with Remus for over an hour, pointing to each word called out from his journal, his homework, three Sesame Street books, even the front page of the Village Voice. Logan's hand slipped on the soapy bottom of the pan, tearing him from his reverie. He glanced at Patton. "I suspect it is selective mutism. Perhaps anxiety from whatever trauma led to the scar on his face."

"He has a scar?"

Logan stopped scrubbing, staring at his brother. "Have you even met Jay?"

"No, not yet. He was in school when I did my home visit and—”

Logan dropped the pan in the sink. He gripped the edge of the enameled edge, grinding his teeth. "How can you do a home visit for a child and not meet the child?"

"My supervisor said it would be enough to—”

"Your supervisor sounds like a fucking dolt."

"Lo!"

Logan closed his eyes and bowed his head, breathing for a moment. He opened his eyes and turned to face Patton completely. "I apologize." He sighed, "I share your concern for this child. You were describing how the home visit went."

"Right, so I went to his parents' apartment but no-one was home. I stood outside, knocking for a while…. My supervisor says stay for a bit, to try to make them think you left. Then, when you can hear them come to the door to see if you're still there, you knock louder." Patton shrugged. "It's supposed to make reluctant parents answer the door so the neighbors won't hear."

Logan muttered under his breath, dipping a soapy dish in the water basin. "Mom never fell for that."

Sighing, Patton nodded. "Yeah.”

Patton rinsed the next dish slowly and took a deep breath. “Anyway, I was about to leave my card and a note and this giant punk with old track marks on his arms came out of the apartment next door and—”

"Pat, punk doesn't mean bad, and..." Logan eyed Patton’s own arms significantly.

"Yeah, I know, I know . And I know you're a good person, but you should've seen this guy. He’s like six foot five, with spiked, green hair. Tattoos all over the place, leather pants. He was… scary." Logan looked away. "So the punk guy—”

Quietly, Logan interrupted again, "His name is Mr. Puños."

"So you've met him."

Logan nodded. "A little over a month ago, I sent a note home with Jay, requesting an emergency parent-teacher conference. He had already missed eight days of school, he was withdrawn when he was in attendance and, frankly…" He frowned. "He didn’t appear very healthy. His mother did not respond to the note.” Logan passed over the clean pot and started on the colander.

"A week after I sent the note, Jay’s mother left him with Mr. Puños in the middle of the night." Logan stopped scrubbing and turned to face Patton. "Mr. Puños showed up in my classroom, crumpled note in his hand, the very next day.”

"Oh." Patton fiddled with the dish towel next to him. "Yeah. He said he was babysitting."

Logan huffed out a laugh. "Jay's been getting better care from his 'scary punk babysitter' than I've seen him receive from his mother all school year."

"So you're not worried that he's staying at this guy's house?" Patton stopped rinsing, eyes trained on his brother.

"Not in the least."

"Hm."

"Hm?"

"Well…” Patton looked away, returning his attention to the soapy pot in his hands.

“My supervisor said that he sounded like an inappropriate placement and we may need to remove him if his mother does not return soon."

Logan paused his scrubbing on the colander and stared at the soap bubbles that had collected on the surface. He silently watched the bubbles pop for a few moments. Finally, he murmured, "Pat, how many open cases do you have?"

Blinking at the non-sequitur, Patton thought for a moment, counting on his fingers. "One hundred ninety-eight."

Logan nodded. He'd expected an answer like that.

"Patton, perhaps it would be in the best interests of this child if you moved his case to the bottom of your queue." Logan resumed washing the dish, placing the clean but sudsy colander into the rinsing basin. "I have only 32 students in my class. I shall keep a close eye on Jay and will let you know if I see anything at all concerning. Deal?"

Patton chewed at his lip for a moment, but finally nodded. "Alright. Pinky swear?" He asked, holding out his little finger, his old glint back in his eye.

Logan nodded solemnly, linking a soapy pinkie with his brother. "Pinky swear."

---

Virgil fidgeted with the drum sticks, catching Jay staring at him every time he looked up. “So how long exactly are you babysitting this kid, Re?”

Remus narrowed his eyes and flipped his hair back. “As long as he needs me, man. I told you, his mom’s a”—his eyes jumped over to Jay—”his mom is out of town.” He shrugged, watching as Jay read some of the stickers plastered on the wall near the little table Bennie had set up for him during their rehearsal. “I don’t know if he has any family besides his mom. She’s probably burned all those bridges.” Remus swallowed hard, rubbing his hands roughly over his arms.

“Yeah, Re, not everyone’s as forgiving as I am!” Clapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder, Roman grinned, “He’s a nice kid. I don’t mind him hanging around. Maybe, you know, keep him away from downstairs….” Remus rolled his eyes.

“I’m not an idiot, Ro Bro.” Raising his hands in surrender, Roman laughed and went back to tuning his guitar.

Virgil gnawed at his lip. “Wouldn’t he rather be out playing with his friends at the park or some kid shit like that?”

Remus frowned as he looked down at his own bass and muttered, “I don’t think he has any friends his age, Virge. You know what kids can be like.”

They both looked out toward where Jay was sitting and saw only an open table. Remus’ eyes whipped around the tiny venue until he turned and saw Jay had climbed up on stage and was standing a few feet away, watching Virgil adjust his drum kit. “Hey, Buddy, you’re fast,” Remus chuckled, blowing out a quick breath and pushing away the thrumming panic he’d felt clamping down on his chest. “Were you curious about Virgil’s drums?”

Jay nodded slightly and took a small step toward them. Remus glanced up at Virgil, eyebrows raised. Virgil sighed, then turned to Jay and held out a drumstick. “You wanna try it, kid?”

Jay looked at Remus, waiting. It took Remus a moment to realize he was waiting for permission. “Go ahead, Bud,” he said, nodding quickly.

The boy raced over to Virgil, accepting the drumstick with a bright grin. He tapped slowly at first, smiling back at Virgil. Remus nudged Roman, silently drawing his attention away from his guitar and toward the pair as Virgil started lightly stepping down on the top hat, adding a steady beat from the cymbals. Jay tried to match the beat, tapping with Virgil’s rhythm.

“Not bad, kid, not bad…” Virgil murmured, a little smirk growing on his face. Jay tapped on a different drum, smiling at the new sound. After a few minutes, he gave the drumstick back to Virgil, then touched his first three fingers to his chin, then dropped them with an open palm toward the drummer.

“Did he just—” Virgil glared at Remus, eyes wide, making the 'fuck off’ motion, brushing his fingers under his jaw.

Remus cackled, “No, man, that’s ASL for ‘thank you!’” Remus threw his head back, laughing harder at Virgil’s blush. “He learned it at school.”

“Oh, um, well, you’re welcome, kid.” Virgil cleared his throat, smiling briefly at Jay’s grin and turned back to his drum kit as Jay clambered off the stage and headed back to his little table. Virgil looked up at Roman and Remus. “You two ready?”

Roman nodded, washing down some aspirin with another long drawn on his sports drink. “Oh, just a sec,” Remus added, fishing out a tiny set of protective headphones from his gig bag before leaping off the stage. He handed them to Jay and he popped them on then allowed Remus to double check their fit. “Comfy?” Remus asked in a loud voice. Jay grinned and nodded, giving him a little thumbs up. He ruffled Jay’s hair, then ran back to the stage.

“Let’s go!” Remus grinned as he waited for Virgil’s countdown.

---

They took a break two hours into the rehearsal. Roman sat on the drummer stool with his eyes closed, head leaning back against Virgil's belly as he stood behind him. Virgil rubbed his temples while he leaned over, murmuring softly in his ear. Remus sat with Jay at his table while they shared a sandwich. Hilly stopped by the table with another glass of water for Remus and a glass of milk for Jay.

Remus chuckled, “Bennie’s got fresh milk back there?”

Grinning, Hilly shrugged. “He swears it’s for White Russians, but, um, between you and me,” he shook his head, laughing, “He only started buying it when Jay first showed up for rehearsals a couple weeks ago.” Remus watched the man as Hilly’s hands reflexively moved to the package of cigarettes in his pocket before he looked down, dropping his hands and fishing out some gum.

“Lisa’s set to stay with Jay again on Thursday so you can perform. Does 7 o’clock still work?”

Remus quickly chewed and swallowed the bite he’d taken, nodding. “Yes, yes, that sounds great.” He turned to Jay, “You liked Lisa, right?” Jay was already grinning broadly, leafing through the drawings in front of him, pulling out one of a figure in a flowery dress and pink hair.

Remus laughed as he accepted the drawing, turning it to show Hilly. “Oh, if she’s got her own drawing after just two babysitting gigs, then she’s on the VIP list.” He looked up at the older man again. “Thanks for—” he waved his hands over Jay, the stage, the club. “Thanks for everything, Hilly.”

“I’ve had angels in my life. Especially when I was young like you.” Remus felt a flush heating up his face and gulped at his water. Hilly grinned, waiting for him to put down the glass. “I’m glad to be able to help where I can. Besides… you boys know how to bring in the crowds. If having my daughter pitch in with a little babysitting is part of your rider, I’m happy to oblige.”

Roman called from the stage, “Hey, if we really have a rider, I’ve got some things to add…”

“Not for you, Your Worshipfulness…” Virgil laughed, leaning over and kissing Roman’s neck. He looked up, “C’mon back, Remus. We need to try that last song again….“

Remus helped Jay with his headphones while Jay made a motion with his arm. He tilted his head. “What was that?” Jay repeated it before looking up at the stage and miming a microphone. Remus grinned. “Is that the sign for ‘song’?” Jay grinned, nodding happily as Remus tried the motion. Jay took his hand, straightening his fingers and moving his right hand back and forth over his left.

“Oh… the—“ Remus repeated the motion and winked at Jay. “Not yet, but soon!”

---

Virgil ended their last planned song with a riotous lift, accompanying Roman as he wailed the song’s final high note into the mic. His smirk looked more like an actual smile as the last crash of the cymbal reverberated through the mostly empty space. “Yeah! You nailed the end!”

Roman shot Remus a pre-emptively dirty look as his brother first waved his hands as though to say ‘What?’ before tilting his head toward Jay, his wide eyes taking in their every movement. Roman rolled his eyes then gestured toward Virgil with the head of his guitar.

Remus nodded, laying down the baseline to a different song.

Virgil had started to pack up his gig bag but now looked up, brow furrowed as he listened to Remus’ playing. He shook his head. “That’s not one of ours….”

Roman stepped closer to Virgil, easing around his drum kit and swiveling his drummer stool so they were face-to-face. He started picking out the melody on his guitar.

Everytime I look into your loving eyes I see a love that money just can’t buy

“Babe, what is this?” Virgil asked, a flush growing on his cheeks.

Remus took over the melody on his bass and started to sing the background harmony vocals as Roman took Virgil’s hand, drawing him close. He continued to sing.

One look from you, I drift away I pray that you are here to stay

Anything you want, you got it Anything you need, you got it Anything at all, you got it Baby

Roman put down his guitar, wrapping his arms around Virgil’s waist and started to dance him around the stage, singing softly near his ear.

Every time I hold you, I begin to understand Everything about you tells me I’m your man I live my life to be with you No one can do the things you do

“Ro, what is this for?” Virgil shot a look at Remus when Roman just dipped him in response. Remus smiled, and shrugged, dipping his bass toward Roman and singing the harmony.

Anything you want, you got it Anything you need, you got it Anything at all, you got it Baby Anything you want Anything you need Anything at all

Roman stopped singing, cradling Virgil’s cheeks in his hands as he pulled him in to a long, soft kiss. “My love.” He carded his fingers through Virgil’s hair. “You know I couldn’t possibly let our anniversary go by without taking the opportunity to serenade you….”

Laughing and hiding his face against Roman’s chest, Virgil complained with a blushing grin, “But out anniversary’s not until Friday….“

“Well, sure, but we won’t have this space Friday.” Roman lifted Virgil’s chin and looked into his eyes as Remus played the last chords of the song. “I’ll just have to find some other way to cherish you on that day.”

Virgil’s initial response was interrupted by sudden applause from Jay and Hilly. “I am so getting you back for this.”

“Mm-hm… you better,” Roman murmured, drawing him in for one more kiss. ---

taglist: @mavenmush @demon9980 @crossiantgay @psychedelicships @justmeandmygayships @bluerosesbleedred @tsfanficarchive @ts-creator-boost

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edupunkn00b · 3 years ago

Text

Punks, Poets, Parents - Ch. 10: Safe

Prev - Ch. 10: Safe - Next - Master Post - [ A03 ]

Fic rated M, this chapter rated T - CW: very vague reference to drug abuse, social service interactions, homophobic microagression, swearing - WC: 4506

Sometimes, I try to do things And it just doesn’t work out the way I want it to - Institutionalized, Suicidal Tendencies ---

Monday, March 12, 1984

“Hey, Pat, we made it through another Monday!” Barb leaned over Patton’s desk, gently elbowing his shoulder. “We’re heading out for happy hour. Wanna come?”

Patton grinned, throwing his head back, “You know it!”

“Patton?” Bridgette’s brittle voice drew both social workers’ attention.

“We’ll be at The Wall. Meet you there?” Barb whispered. Patton nodded as she slunk away, waving slightly at their supervisor.

“Yes, Bridgette, is there something I can help you with before I head out?” Patton looked up as she approached his desk, arms crossed in front of her.

She frowned at him, “You haven’t turned in a removal report yet for the Heaney case.”

"Well, yes," Patton tried to hide his wince. “About that….”

Sighing, she stared down at him. “You haven’t removed the child yet, have you?”

Picking up the file, Patton turned to Logan’s official recommendation letter detailing Jay’s improvement in the six months he’d been living with Remus. “The child’s teacher has strongly recommended—”

Bridgette read over his shoulder. “Sanders?” She narrowed her eyes at Patton. “Any relation?”

Patton cleared his throat, “Well, yes, actually, he happens to be my brother.” He chuckled lightly at her sudden intake of breath. “Small world, huh?”

“This is highly inappropriate. I directed you to remove a child from an unsafe living situation.” She put her hands on her hips, jaw tight. “You ignored my instructions and instead followed the advice of your brother?”

“Yeah, it sounds bad when you say it like that, but—”

“But, nothing, Mr. Sanders. Do your job. Remove the child and get him into a proper foster placement.”

“Tonight?” Bridgette glowered at him. Patton looked at the clock, “It’s after five… and we don’t have any space in our approved foster families. He’ll end up at a group home tonight.”

Her voice was sharp. “And if you had processed this removal properly, he might not be in this situation now.” Hanging his head, Patton opened the file, turning to the contact page and reaching for his phone. “What are you doing?” she snapped.

Patton froze momentarily under her icy glare. “I—I was going to call Mr. Puños and let him know—”

“You never call before a removal. They’ll just take the child and run.”

“I really don't think Mr. Puños is a flight risk. He’s got a job, a brother… he writes for the Village Voice.”

Bridgette shook her head. “Go and get the child now and place him somewhere where he’ll be safe.” She sucked her teeth. “Officer Davids is on duty at the 7th precinct tonight. Call him for an escort.”

Patton shook his head. “He’s not dangerous, Bridgette.” She raised an eyebrow, lips pinched. “I’ll bring Officer Davids’ number, but it won’t be necessary.” Bridgette remained at his desk until he stood, putting on his jacket and turning off his desk lamp.

“And I want the removal report on my desk before I get in tomorrow morning.” Nodding, Patton picked up Jay’s file and left the office, steeling himself for what was coming next.

---

Patton could hear music and Remus’ muffled voice as he approached Puños’ door. Glancing to his left, he saw the Marshal's notice plastered on the door to Alice’s old apartment, bright orange tamper tape covering its lock and seams. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He squared his shoulders, pulling himself up to his full 5’8” stature. He closed his eyes and knocked firmly three times.

The music lowered and he heard footsteps and the sound of something brushing against the inside of the door. The peephole darkened briefly as someone looked through. A few moments later, Remus opened the door, a guarded mask falling down over his face.

He wiped his hands on his apron, looking over his shoulder as Jay peeked around him. Remus watched as his eyes widened, taking in Patton’s slacks and pressed shirt, thick folder under one arm, Bureau of Child Welfare ID badge hung prominently around his neck. Jay backed away, heading into the bedroom and closing the door.

“That was Jay,” Remus murmured quietly. He cleared his throat and opened the door, inviting Patton in with a wave. “Would you like to come in? We were just getting ready for dinner.” Remus’ eyes darted to the kitchen. “In fact, excuse me a sec…” He raced to the kitchen and covered a saucepan and lowered the flame. Then he opened the oven, peering inside. He closed the door and turned the oven off, wiping his hands again on the apron wrapped around his waist.

Remus swallowed, watching as Patton looked around the kitchen, eyes landing on the place settings, a few of Jay’s drawings displayed on the refrigerator, the bowl of fruit on the counter. “Um, can I get you something? Water? Coffee?” He tucked his hands into his pockets under the apron, hiding the way they shook.

“No, thank you, Mr Puños. I, um, I won’t be here long.” Patton opened Jay’s folder, pulling out a bright yellow sheet of paper. Remus felt his heart leap into his throat when Patton handed it to him.

He read the top line, Emergency Order for Removal of a Minor Child and momentarily squeezed his eyes shut. The page shook as he gripped it in his hands, forcing his eyes open to read the entire sheet. Due to the recent arrest… minor child… un-related custodian… history with child services….

Remus looked up at Patton, eyes wide and starting to burn with unshed tears.

"Please don't do this, Mr. Sanders. Jay’s doing so much better here. Please." Remus lowered his voice. "What if he ends up in a group home? You can't tell me you think he'll actually be safer in one than he is here.

"He's gotten into a routine… Jay hasn't missed a single day of school since he's been staying with me. Look at him… he smiles. He draws, he's reading…” Remus reached toward Patton but quickly lowered his hand, biting his lip when Patton took a step back. “Please don't take him and toss him to chance," he whispered, voice cracking.

Patton looked down at the file in his hands. “I'm sorry, Mr. Puños. I really am, but my hands are tied. His mother is in prison and his father's whereabouts are unknown. While his mother is incarcerated, he's a ward of the state."

Patton looked around as though his supervisor was watching over his shoulder. "Listen, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but you can apply to be classified as an emergency foster placement with my approval and the recommendation from at least two other adults in his life. A doctor who knows you both, a relative, or a teacher.”

Remus nodded.

“You aren't in a relationship with anyone, correct?” Remus’ jaw tightened but he nodded. “Good, that means you won't have to disclose your”—Patton gestured vaguely—”orientation, so I recommend you keep it that way.” Patton fanned through the papers in his arms. “I will note in Jan—Jay's file that you have been completely cooperative every step of the way."

Patton stared significantly at Remus. "That includes tonight.” Patton crossed his arms, holding Jay's file against his chest like a shield. "I didn't bring a police escort, but I will return with one if I have to.” He softened his voice. “I need you to cooperate with this removal, Mr. Puños. Resisting will make it impossible for me to recommend that Jay be officially placed in your care, even as an emergency placement. Do you understand me?"

"Where will you take him?"

He sighed. "It's late and… I don't have any family homes available right now.” Patton shook his head. “He’ll go to a group home tonight… there might be a bed at New York Foundling."

Remus dragged his hand down his face, muttering a curse under his breath. "Can you at least get him in the preschool room?"

Patton started to shake his head, "Jay's a first grader… He—"

Remus stared down at the shorter man, whispering fiercely, "Yeah, he's a first grader the size of a four year old who doesn't speak. You know what they'll do to him if you put him in with the K-6 group."

He hugged Jay’s file against his chest. Finally, Patton nodded. "I'll get him in with the younger kids."

“Thank you.” Remus sighed, rubbing his mouth roughly. "Can I have a minute to say goodbye to him? And I'll need to gather his stuff."

"Yes, of course."

Remus closed his eyes, pushing back the tearing ache in his chest, his head, his gut. He took a deep breath, then pressed on a smile and walked toward the living room.

Jay scrambled away from the doorway and onto the couch, fingers twisting together in his lap. His backpack was next to him, already stuffed with his clothes, the hem of a pant leg and the corner of his Grover book poking through where the zipper wasn’t fully closed.

Remus grit his teeth, choking back the sob threatening to escape his throat. He knelt down in front of Jay, taking his tiny hands in his own.

“I guess you heard a lot of that, huh?” Jay wouldn’t look up but nodded. “Hey, did you know that this Mr. Sanders is your teacher’s brother?” Jay’s eyes widened and he looked over Remus’s shoulder at where the younger Mr. Sanders watched from the doorway. He narrowed his eyes, scowling. “He’s Mr. Sanders’ little brother.” Remus made a show of turning to look with Jay, “You can kinda see the resemblance, huh? Maybe”—he made an exaggerated squinting face, trying to pull a laugh out of the boy—”if you squint you can see it?”

Jay looked back at Remus, mouth turned down and eyebrow raised. “Well, the important thing they have in common is that they both really care about making sure kids are safe.” Remus swallowed against the lump in his throat. “In fact that’s this Mr. Sanders"—he tilted his head toward Patton who still watched them carefully from the hallway—”It's his entire job. To keep kids safe.” Jay stared into his eyes and Remus bit down on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, fighting to keep his voice under control and the tears at bay.

“So Mr. Sanders here is going to bring you to a home where he knows you will be safe.” Jay just frowned at Remus, leaning in to hug him. Remus held him until the lump in his throat threatened to choke him and the burning behind his eyes began to spill over into tears. He stood up, holding out a hand for Jay. Remus pushed another smile onto his face, “Mr. Sanders will take good care of you. And he and I will talk about when you and I can see each other again, okay?”

Jay nodded, clinging to his hand as Remus picked up his backpack. Remus tucked the book and jeans in and closed the zipper completely. Remus breathed against the iron band that wrapped around his heart when he realized that Jay must have started packing the moment Patton had arrived.

Remus stared into Patton’s eyes. “I will call you in the morning to see how he’s doing. You’ll get that emergency placement application from me tomorrow, as well.” Patton swallowed, nodding.

“All I want is what’s best for Jay, Mr. Puños.” Remus bit back the sneer that tried to force its way to his face and instead looked down at Jay. Forcing one last smile, he took Jay’s hand and placed it in Patton’s.

“I’ll see you as soon as I can, okay, Buddy?” Jay nodded and sighed, hugging Remus’ leg for one more moment, then suddenly letting go, standing next to Patton. Remus handed Jay’s backpack to Patton and watched them leave.

Remus stood in the doorway until he heard the faint clang of the lobby door closing downstairs, then he stepped back inside, closing and locking the door behind him. He leaned his back against the door, and slowly slid down, gripping his hair, tears coursing down his face. He sat, bent over himself, sobbing until he was emptied of anger, of sadness, of everything.

He pulled out Patton’s business card from his pocket. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll jump through their hoops. Tomorrow.

He let out a shaky sigh. So what do I do tonight?

Remus checked the time on the coffee maker. 6:58. He shrugged. There’s always CBGBs. It was Monday, open mic night. There might be someone good playing. Who the fuck are you kidding, man? You don’t care who’s on stage. You just wanna blow off some steam. Or blow off some—

He stood up and walked to his bedroom to change.

As he pushed the clothes across the rod in his closet, searching for the trashiest things he could, he heard Roman’s voice in his head. ‘C’mon, Re… you know what’s gonna happen if you show up at the club alone…'

“Well who the fuck do you expect me to go with, Ro?” he muttered under his breath as though Roman was in the room with him. “Look around! I am fucking alone.”

‘Don’t go like this, Re. Don’t go alone. The temptation will be too strong.’

He choked out a laugh. “That’s really fucking easy for you to say, Ro Bro. You’ve still got somebody. I lost everybody.” He scrubbed at his face to force the tears to stop. “I don’t even have you.”

He slammed his closet door shut and tore off his clothes, tugging on the leather pants and mesh shirt he’d pulled out of his closet. He went to the bathroom, tracing on eyeliner with a shaking hand and spiking up his hair. He yanked open his top dresser drawer, and grabbed a handful of bracelets and spiked wristbands. His breath caught when his fingers brushed against the old sock that hid his small stash of emergency cash. His hands trembled as he pulled it out and stared at the wad of twenties. Maybe just a little. Just to get through the night. Not enough to fuck him up for days. Just enough to shut off his brain… just this one time…

Still shaking, he carefully counted out three bills and pushed them into his pocket. He put the rest back and, after hesitating a moment, pulled one more twenty from the wad and pocketed that, as well. As he shoved the drawer closed again, a piece of construction paper flew out and he stomped over to pick it up.

Turning it over in his hands, he saw it was one of Jay’s drawings. A new drawing, one he hadn’t seen before. He brought it closer to the light and he sank to the floor, a sob bursting from his throat when he saw what Jay had drawn.

In the center of the page was a little boy in a yellow t-shirt nearly the same shade as the Ewok shirt Remus had just bought for him at that little shop on Canal Street. The boy had curls sticking out of his head and a pink scribble drawn on the left side of his face. He had one of those big sideways capital letter D smiles covering the lower half.

On his left side, the boy was holding hands with a tall figure with neon green scribbles coming out of his head and a big green scribble over his smile. He was dressed in a green shirt and wore an apron. He had a stick in his hand. Remus squinted at it until he realized it was a spatula.

On his other side, the boy was holding hands with a stick figure with black hair, big squares over his eyes. That figure wore a blue necktie.

Remus stared at the drawing, scrubbing the tears from his face. Jay must've just drawn this. They'd bought the Ewok shirt on Saturday. Just two days ago. Two days and this poor little boy's life had been turned upside down.

He dragged his hand over his face, wiping away fresh tears. Remus looked down at the streaks of eyeliner on his hands and stood up, carefully holding Jay's drawing by the edges so as not to wrinkle the paper or to get his smeared makeup on the picture.

He walked out to the phone on the wall in the kitchen, slowly dialing the number by heart. It rang a few times before he got an answering machine, Logan’s precise tones reciting the greeting, ‘You have reached the Sanders residence….’

Remus took a deep breath, waiting for the beep and just let the words pour out of him. He had nothing left to lose and maybe, just maybe, Logan would help him. Would help Jay.

“Hi, um, Mr. Sanders, it’s me… Remus. I know, I know… I’m not calling for me. I’m calling for your help with Jay. I need your help. Please… Okay, fuck it. I’m gonna stop by the school tomorrow afternoon. I hope you’ll see me. I hope…” He sighed heavily. Fuck hope. Hope hurt so much. “Please.”

Remus hung up the phone, scrubbing another round of tears from his eyes then picked it up again, calling an old, familiar number.

She answered on the fourth ring. “Theresa, hi, it’s me, Remus…” he huffed out a small laugh that turned into a sob. “Listen, do you have a minute? I could use your help with something.”

ID: A child's drawing in crayon of a child with a pink scar on his face in a yellow t-shirt holding hands with a man with green hair and another man with a blue tie and eyeglasses.

---

Logan stood in front of the answering machine, a towel wrapped around his waist. His wet hair dripped on another towel he'd hastily draped over his shoulders when he heard the machine beeping just as he'd turned off the shower.

Rushing toward the machine, all he'd caught was Remus' whispered plea, "Please…."

He pressed the play button, listening to the message in its entirety. His heart seized when Remus' voice cracked in the recording. Finally the message ended, Remus' final broken "Please…" echoing through the apartment.

He was reaching for the phone to call Remus back when it rang again. Fumbling the receiver, Logan rushed to answer, “Hello? Remus?”

Patton sighed on the other line. “No, it’s me. Um, listen, I need to work late tonight. Don’t worry, but, um, don’t wait up.”

“Pat?” Logan’s brow furrowed, “Are you okay? You sound—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just… I have some things to take care of here.”

“You only work late when you have a remov—” Logan’s eyes shot open. Remus’ message echoed in his ears. I need your help with Jay.

“Pat? What have you done?”

“I’m sorry, I had to, Lo. My supervisor—”

Logan slammed the phone down and raced to his room, throwing on the first shirt and pants his hands touched as he yanked open his dresser. On his way to the front door, he dragged his hands through his hair, slicking it back and away from his face, and pushed his arms through his jacket sleeves, his feet into his shoes. He grabbed his keys and his wallet, and ran out the door, remembering just in time to lock it behind him.

---

Remus sat at the kitchen table, the surface covered with papers. There was a yellow notepad where he'd scrawled Theresa's advice while they'd talked. There was Jay's latest report card, a few samples of his writing, and the slips from his latest doctor's visits showing his growth over the past six months that he'd been with Remus.

What still held Remus' attention, though, was Jay's drawing. He stared at, gently rubbing his fingertips over the crayon marks, touching a spot where Jay had colored so vigorously he'd started to warp the paper. He looked up, frowning, when the doorbell rang.

Shaking his head, he put down Jay's drawing, slowly rising. He moved to the door and peered through the peephole. He pulled back and took a deep breath before pressing his forehead against the door, eyes squeezed shut. He took another breath, and stood up straight, squaring his shoulders and pressing something approximating a smile onto his face. Remus opened the door.

"Mr. Sanders… hello. I—” Remus' voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "I just left you a message on your answering machine about fifteen minutes ago. I—”

Logan nodded, his still-damp hair flopping in his eyes. He raked his hands through his hair, pushing it back. "I got your message. And I spoke to Patton."

Remus looked more closely at Logan, noting his wet hair and flushed cheeks. His brow furrowed. "Is it raining?"

The flush darkened over Logan's face and he shook his head, touching his hair, "No… I… I was in the shower when you called. I…" he looked down at his shoes. "I just came as soon as…" his voice died. "I can go… I—”

"No, please, come in, come in… I'm sorry, I'm being rude." Remus opened the door all the way, "Please…" Feeling the unseasonably chilled air pouring in from the hallway, Remus shivered. "You must be freezing. Can I get you some tea or coffee?"

Logan opened his mouth, starting to shake his head, but his words were interrupted by a shudder.

Remus raised an eyebrow as he locked the door. "C'mon, in the kitchen with you. It's warmer in there, too." Logan smiled gratefully and followed.

Logan looked at the papers strewn across the table as Remus started the kettle. He furrowed his brow, picking up Jay's report card, turning it over and re-reading his own comment on the back. 'Jay is a delightful child and it is gratifying to see him begin to come out of his shell. His improvement this quarter is a testament to both of your hard work.'

He looked up at Remus only to see the taller man had been watching him. He looked away, putting down the report card. "You can apply to become an emergency foster placement."

"Yeah, your br—the social worker said that, too." Remus turned to take down a box of tea. He fiddled with the flap on the box. "He said I'd need recommendations. Would you—”

"In a heartbeat."

Remus nodded, pulling out two mugs and placing a tea bag in each. "I was planning to ask Jay's doctor, too."

"I will speak with Principal Wilks to get his recommendation, as well." Remus looked up at Logan's words. "Higher level recommendations can help."

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing hard. He nodded a few times and finally croaked out a quiet, "Thank you." Logan's heart clenched as he looked at Remus' red-rimmed eyes and the constant flexing in his jaw. Logan's hands twitched at his sides and he took a step toward him just as the kettle started to whistle.

Wordlessly, Remus poured the boiling water over the bag in each cup. He placed one cup on either side of the table and sat down. They sat across from each other, each cradling a steaming mug in their hands. Neither spoke for a long while.

Logan took a careful sip, assessing the papers between them. Jay’s drawing was partially obscured by an immunization report and Logan tugged it out, noticing some improvement in his schematic realism. He sucked in a shaky breath when the full image was revealed, his eyes bouncing between the figures Jay had drawn.

Finally Remus broke the silence, tapping his fingers against his mug before tugging at his hair. "I have to get him back."

Logan met his eyes. "I will do absolutely everything possible to help you." Nodding, Remus turned away, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Logan looked down at the table. They sat quietly together for several more minutes before Logan asked, "Did Jay take his journal with him?"

Brow furrowed, Remus shook his head, "I… I don't know…." He stood up and walked toward the living room bookcase where Jay ordinarily kept it with Remus's notebooks. Logan followed, entering just as Remus turned around, the tiny book in his hands.

Remus cradled the book, opened to the first page, running his fingers over the carefully printed words. Biting at his lip, he closed the book and presented it to Logan. He folded his arms around himself and blew out a hard breath. Accepting the journal from Remus, he sat down on the couch, thumbing through the pages. Jay had already filled nearly the entire book with words and bits of sentences and little drawings.

Logan grew very quiet. Remus gingerly sat down next to him, leaving space between them. Logan felt his eyes on him as he read through the little book.

There were other tiny sketches of a little figure holding hands with one or two taller ones. Many were just the smaller figure with a green-haired one. Some with just the bespectacled one. As the book progressed, more and more of the little pictures interspersed with Jay’s printed words were of all three together.

Logan closed the book, stroking the cover between his hands. "Remus, I need to apologize. I never should have withheld from you what I knew about the case. I should have told you what Patton told me. I should have told you—” he let out a shaky sigh when his voice failed, breathing in and out a few times until he could speak again.

“I thought I had it under control. I thought I had made him understand how much Jay needed you. But all I did was keep you in the dark and it left you unprepared.”

Remus sank back into the opposite corner of the couch, bringing up his knees close to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, listening. Logan shook his head, “Since I was a teenager, I have lived two lives, hiding half of me from the other. I became so accustomed to that duplicity that I… I didn’t realize how much I was doing it with you, too.”

Remus sighed and hugged his legs closer to his chest. “I’m not mad at you, Logan.” Remus’ jaw trembled, his voice broken-sounding. “I understand you were trying to help.”

Logan took another breath and held it for a moment before suddenly whispering. “And I lied to you."

Remus stiffened and shifted in his seat, moving even further from Logan and facing him. "Yeah?" He frowned, "What about?"

"I thought that if I proved to my brother that I was completely objective and was not allowing my personal… attachment to you to cloud my judgement, that he would listen to me when I told him it would be a mistake to remove Jay.

"So when you asked me if I… " He looked down at his hands, pressing his lips together. “If I loved you….” Logan fought to control his trembling hands, rubbing them back and forth on the legs of his pants. "I lied."

Finally, he turned to face Remus and his breath caught in his throat at the pain and hope he saw swirling in Remus' bright green eyes. "The truth is," Logan shook his head, "I… I can't stop thinking about you. Not since that first night I saw you sing at CBGB’s. You're my first thought every morning and my last thought as I fall asleep. I…" Logan's voice broke and he looked away. "And I can't stop thinking about the first night we kissed….

"I'm so sorry I hurt you… I thought it was the only way for Jay to stay with you. I should have just told you the truth… Being here with you…." He shook his head again, "I can't pretend this is just lust or infatuation. It is so much more. Remus, I love you."

Remus sat very still, watching him. Finally he whispered, "Do you really mean that?" He held his breath, waiting for his response.

Logan faced him, reaching for his hands and pulling him closer, "I do, I love you, I—”

The rest of his words were lost in the crush of their lips, as their mouths, their bodies, and their hearts finally came together. ---

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