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edupunkn00b · 2 days ago

Text

Ribbit

In the aftermath of frogging out after the Lee and Mary Lee's wedding, Patton feels like he owes everyone an apology. Mostly because he does. But before that, he and Thomas still have some things to work out. Rated G - WC: 2728 - Written for @tsspromptmonth's Sleepy Bean Fanfic Café for the great @dndeceit.

It's okay, Patton. I know you'll do anything you can to make things right.

Patton blinked away the sight of 8-bit Thomas sprawled unconscious on the floor, Janus shielding him with his own body. He swallowed back a quiet ribbit and tried to smile. Thomas was shaken but standing. Unharmed.

Well, physically, at least. "Thanks for trusting me still, Kiddo. I'm…" Unnaturally quiet, the room screamed with the Princely Side's absence and though he'd sought out the solace of his own room, Roman's pain remained, pulling at Patton's chest with icy claws. If anything, the privacy of his own room allowed him to let slip his hero's mask and his cries reached out to him through the Mindscape. "I'm gonna go check on Roman." And try to tell him how sorry he was.

He tugged the sleeves of his catigan, eyes darting automatically to the floor where Logan's spot was currently filled with Janus' carefully polished shoes. How was he ever going to apologize to Logan?

"Before you go..." Thomas' voice pulled him back and Patton looked up. Did he want him to stay? "I think I understand now what it means... Deceit being here as a part of me.

"Oh." Glancing at Janus, Patton fought to keep his smile. "Yeah?"

Janus' hurt crackled through the air, seizing Patton's heart. "Oh, yeah, that's cool…" he muttered flippantly, adjusting his gloves. Despite the thick layer of sarcasm, Janus' pain stole his breath and the Protective Side avoided both his and Thomas' eyes. "Talk about me like I'm not here."

Thomas didn't seem to notice. "...It's not that I'm an evil liar or even a fractionally fiendish fibber. Everyone has a capacity for deceit, including me. And all that means is... I'm not perfect. Just like anyone else."

Patton nodded. "And those imperfections..." He started to reach him but the back of his hand was covered in bright green splotches and he yanked it back before Thomas could spot them. Janus, however, did. "Those imperfections don't make us any less worthy of love." Throat tight with panic, Patton managed to croak out, "Janus?"

He had to get out of there before he got worse.

"I'll take care of him," Janus murmured, tilting his face to show more of his scales. If anyone would understand, it was him.

Nodding his thanks, Patton sank out and stood in the Mindscape hallway. All the doors were closed, with only a thin light spilling up onto the floor from the stairwell nightlight. The gap under his own door was dark, its usual honeyed glow dimmed. He reached for the doorknob, the cold metal impossibly small in his grip. Patton flipped both hands over. The skin between his fingers had stretched up to his middle knuckles, thin and growing a near-transluscent green. He touched his door and it warmed against his skin, the light beneath growing, inviting him in to huddle under the covers with a mug of hot cocoa and his stuffies and just forget this awful day.

"Oh, Roman, thank god you don't have a mustache." Janus' pain sizzled, scalding Patton's skin and he took a half step back, nearly bumping into Thomas' blinds. "Otherwise, between you and Remus, I wouldn't know who the evil twin is." Patton didn't know where to look. When neither of them leapt to his defense, Roman's heart screamed for him, begging Morality to banish Deceit back to the shadows. But Thomas… Thomas shared Janus' hurt. He stared at Roman, shocked that his Princely Side would stoop so low as to insult another of his Side's name. Again. Roman's hurt turned to outrage. "Are you guys seriously going to take his side?" "N-No, I—" "Over me?" "Wh- he-" Patton drowned on Roman's tears. "Thomas... I thought I was your hero..." "Y-" His eyes flicked over to Janus. "You are!" The Protective Side had long ago given up hope of becoming Thomas' hero and even he couldn't hide how much that hurt. Not from Patton, at least. But this was no time for sarcasm and both he and Patton knew it. Eyes downcast, he nodded at Roman, confirming Thomas spoke no lies. "Huh." So ready to believe the worst from him, he couldn't hear Janus' honesty. "Wow. I can't believe this. Did you forget that he's evil?!—" 'If I'm evil, then so is Thomas…'

Patton really needed check on him first. Tugging at his too-tight collar, he turned to Roman's room.

The ache in his chest deepened the closer he got to the gilded red door and he heard Roman's crying before he could even knock. "Ro? Kiddo? Can I come in?" Patton called through the door.

Virgil answered and stood in the doorway. Patton peered past him, just making out Roman's boots tossed haphazardly on the floor, the Princely Side curled on the bed, back to him. Frowning up at Patton, Virgil shook his head and wordlessly closed the door.

"Yeah, um…" Patton said to the red lacquered wood. "Maybe later?" he added, hope cracking in his voice. Just in case Roman changed his mind, he stood shivering in the hall an unreasonably long time. Eventually, the Prince's tears quieted and the flickering glow of the television flitted under the door. Nodding, Patton stepped back. Virgil had him.

Logan's door stood a few steps away. Rubbing the back of his neck, he made his way over. The silver constellations carved and painted into the dark navy wood had lost a bit of their sheen but the splintered edges had recently begun to stitch themselves back together and the heavy pewter door knocker had been recently polished.

Hand outstretched to knock, Patton noticed the blooming green splotches all over the back of his hand and arms and he yanked his catigan from his shoulders. He squeezed into it, the material stretching to its limit to fit around his suddenly broader shoulders, thumbs tucked into their little holes the only thing keeping the sleeves from riding up and revealing his now completely green arms. He pulled the hood up, tugging at it to try to cover where his hair had dissolved into smooth green flesh.

It didn't quite fit, but it was better. Maybe. He hoped.

Patton knocked and the door quickly opened.

Remus glared up at him, one hand on the door, the other still clutching a roll of gauze. Neck half-bandaged, Logan sat on the edge of his bed. He turned away when he saw who was at the door.

"I thought…" Patton stepped closer, reaching for Logan without thinking but Remus held his ground, jaw tight. Patton stepped back, fingers twisting together. "Sorry," he mumbled. "But I thought we couldn't be harmed by things with no real-world impact. I… Janus' crook is…"

"A metaphor?" Logan finished from his spot on the bed. He still wouldn't look in Patton's direction.

"Well…" Patton shrugged, his catigan growing tighter as Logan's room got just that much smaller. "Yeah."

Rolling his eyes, Remus returned to Logan's side. "Skipping Thomas' logical contributions happened in real-life, Daddy Frog Legs." He moved to reveal the bright red and blue bruising along Logan's jaw. "There's your impact."

"Oh," Patton whispered, stumbling backwards over too-large feet. He ended up in the hallway, once again facing Remus. He tugged his catigan hem down over his belly, hearing the stitches stretch and pop.

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Remus turned and closed the door. As it clicked shut, Patton's clothes grew, once again falling comfortably over his cartoonishly large frame. "Um, thank you," he called back and tucked both hands into the big front pocket, shivering in the empty hallway.

Moving further down the hall, Patton hurried past Lucas' room, the rusty orange paint cracked and peeling. The door rattled but he ignored it. He couldn't even hear it. Nope, couldn't hear any—

"Isn't denial my job, Morality?" Janus murmured from the top of the stairs.

Patton hopped in surprise and whipped around. Janus stood, relaxed, leaning with one elbow resting on the railing. A feigned casualness belied by eyes that never left his. "Shouldn't someone be with Thomas?" he asked, eyes swiveling to Roman and Logan's doors.

Janus nodded slowly. "Yes. He's asked for you. Besides…" Golden eyes darted over to Logan's door. "I have some apologies of my own to make."

"You mean for impersonating Logan again?"

Face a stiff mask, Janus waved his hand in a failed distraction from the guilt sizzling between them. "That, and…"

The Sides' hurt from Janus' dig about the 'evil twin' clawed at Patton's throat. Roman's outrage. Janus' pained contrition. And, softer, but just as caustic, the sharp stab from Remus when he heard. By the time Patton caught his breath, Janus had already slipped into Logan's room, the lock clicking quietly into place. Alone again, Patton felt Thomas' call and he sank down, emerging in Thomas' bedroom.

Well, the hall just outside Thomas' bedroom. Door open wide, soft warm light spilled out into the hallway. Patton tapped the door frame. "Knock, knock," he asked more than said. "Can I come in, Tomathy?"

Wrapped in a plush flannel blanket, Thomas sat curled in the big armchair next to the window. A steaming mug of hot chocolate, a tall glass of fizzy water, and a Switch paused on the Splatoon loading screen crowded his nightstand. His phone was turned off and set on the charger, along with his watch. "Janus has really been taking good care of you, huh, Kiddo?"

Guilt washed over Thomas' features and he eyed his phone. He started to rise, the blanket falling to the floor. "I should turn it back on, shouldn't I? Quil was working on their portfolio and they might need help. I haven't heard from Joan in a while either—"

Patton led him back to his seat and pressed the mug of hot chocolate into his hands. "No, Kiddo, no! That's not what I meant. It's… It's good." He pressed a smile onto his face and hid his green fingers back into his catigan pocket. "It's good he's taking care of you—that you're taking care of you. I… I'm glad." Stepping back, he swallowed against the lump in his throat, lips pressed hard against the weird little clicking ribbit pushing up. "I'm glad he could take care of you when I couldn't. To… to protect you. Y'know…" His tongue felt too large for his mouth. "Protect you from me."

Thomas set down the mug and really looked up at him. His eyes fell over his hulking shoulders and the way his knees bounced even as he stood still. "Pat?" he asked and scooted over in his seat. "C'mere, buddy."

Eyeing the cozy spot next to him, Patton shook his head and perched on the side of Thomas' bed instead. He pretended he couldn't see the hurt in Thomas' big puppy dog eyes. Fingers curled under his palms, he folded his hands in his lap. "Dee—Janus said you asked for me," he said after a while.

Thomas nodded and folded his legs up in the chair, knees hugged close to his body. "Yeah, Pat… We… we should talk."

Lips pressed together, Patton nodded. When he noticed Thomas watching him, he painted on a bright grin. "Sure thing, Kiddo."

"Pat?" Thomas reached for his hand, smiling when Patton tentatively reached back and folded his sleeve-covered hand over his. "Pat, I think we're past pretending nothing happened back there."

Patton started to shrink back but Thomas held tight to his hand. "You… You're right." Mouthing opening and closing, faint wordless popping sounds the only noise he could make. Patton nodded again and sucked in a deep breath.

"Take your time, Buddy," Thomas finally said. "I'm not really sure where to start apologizing, either." He hung his head, shoulders hunched and tight as he avoided Patton's gaze.

Patton shifted, scrunching his socks with long, webbed toes. He drew in another shaky breath, watching Thomas do the same. Guilt churned in his guts and he let go of Thomas' hand to wrap both arms over his belly, hugging himself.

Thomas copied his action.

"Hey, Kiddo…" Patton began and Thomas' head jerked up, eyes wide. Scared.

"Yeah, Pat?"

"Ki—Thomas," Patton tried again, inhaling slowly, Virgil's voice counting their breaths echoing through his memory. "I'm feeling really guilty for what I did to you." He spoke as plainly as he could, Janus' cryptic nod and Romain's despairing sink out of the living room playing on a loop through his mind. "You don't need to feel guilty."

"It's kinda hard not to, Pat," Thomas shrugged, still not quite meeting his gaze. "You're at the core of a lot of my feelings, right?"

Nodding, Patton silently counted to four as he inhaled.

"I think it goes both ways for us."

Recalling all the nights he'd spent comforting Virgil or Thomas after a nightmare—or after a real-life disaster—Patton slowly nodded again. "Maybe it would help if…" Patton had no clue if his idea would even work or if it would just make Thomas feel even worse. Logan would know. Eyes flicking over to the corner spot next to Logan's bedroom spot in front of Thomas' framed degree, he shuddered. How many more times would Logan forgive him? How many more times would he need Logan to forgive him?

Sour guilt flooded his chest, rising up into a very clear, very loud "Riiiiib—bit!"

Thomas had curled into himself, eyes faraway. "Kiddo, let's try something different."

The hand that reached for him was a little less green than it had been when he'd first arrived at Thomas' door and he threaded their fingers together. With a gentle tug, he pulled Thomas up to his feet and wrapped both arms around him. After a long moment, Thomas hugged him back, face buried in the thick fleece catigan. He'd gotten closer to his regular size but still the top of Thomas' head barely grazed his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Thomas," he whispered, voice catching in his throat. "I'm sorry for everything."

"It's okay, I—" Muffled by his shoulder, Thomas' sob broke free and he gripped Patton tighter. "I just want—I want…" Patton rubbed his back as he shook with another sob. "I want to make you proud."

Pushing down another awful ribbet, Patton whispered. "Oh, Kiddo, you do!"

Shaking with relief—and exhaustion—Thomas leaned against him and Patton stood tall, lips pressed tightly together. But then Thomas hugged him tighter and the words spilled out. "It's all I want, too."

To his own ears, Patton's voice burst out in a croak but Thomas didn't seem to mind. He only hugged him closer and nodded. "You do, Pat, all the time."

With that, the dam broke and his own tears rushed out, wetting Thomas' hair and his own arms and hands. His green splotches faded under each drop, and the guilt clawing up his throat softened, spilling out with his tears. Soon, both their tears had soaked through the catigan, turning the light grey a mottled charcoal. Patton pulled back, letting out a choked laugh when he realized he once again stood eye-to-eye with Thomas.

"Maybe I don't need this right now?" Swimming in the soggy fleece, Patton needed Thomas' help to disentangle himself. Working carefully, they peeled away the heavy fleece and gently laid it at the foot of the bed to dry. Back in short sleeves, Patton shivered, but not a speck of green was to be seen.

"C'mon, Pat." Thomas smiled and pulled him over to the arm chair before covering both of them with his blanket. "Let's warm up," he said, lifting his hot chocolate. A similar mug this one in bright green on a red saucer, sat behind it. "Hey, look—" Thomas passed him the steaming mug. "I think this one's for you."

Wordlessly accepting the cup, Patton marveled at the twins' colors, the buzz of their creative magic familiar and welcome against his fingers, comfortably warm in his hands. He peered into the cup, a smile tugging at his lips when the ripples in the cup briefly spelled out, Please sleep soon. Nodding his assent, he sniffed the steam. Rich and chocolatey, he picked up a bit of peppermint and vanilla. It smelled good. It smelled right.

"Cheers?" Thomas asked, raising his cup.

Smiling back at him, Patton clinked their cups together. "Cheers."

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