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edupunkn00b · 6 days ago

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On a Butterfly's Wing, Ch. 10: Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Public domain image of a Lorenz attractor, a visual representation of patterns in chaos.

Prev - Somewhere Over the Rainbow - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ] WC: 3180 - Rated: T - CW: implied past abuse

Logan Croft celebrates Halloween in his dreams with… well, with someone he hadn't expected. But first, Logan learns his dreams seem to be making an impact on real life. At least… at least he'd thought it had only been a dream.

❤️💙October 28, 2024

Dreams begat dreams and, increasingly, Logan found himself readily drifting off to sleep each night, wondering what his imagination might weave for him that time. While he dreamed—and recalled his dreams—far more often than he was accustomed to, very few of his dreams carried the same clarity, the same weight as his dreams from the end of the Patton’s junior year.

His dreams at the start of Patton's senior year only intensified.

In the end, he chalked it up to little more than processing his worries for his youngest son, because no matter what he’d dreamt, no matter how absurdly fantastical his imagined life could be, Patton was always, always there.

The impression of a smooth tri-braid band ghosted on the ring finger of his right hand.

Sometimes impossibly so.

Over time, his dreams melded into competing versions of his days, soft mornings waking in the arms of his boss’ husband—sometimes even with the both of them. More than a few dreams, even, with his old crush. His dreams girded him against the sharper edges of his real days, leaving him energized and ready for whatever traps he had to dodge, whatever figurative—mostly figurative—blows he had to absorb.

His dreams also left him with a strange, unearned familiarity with all three of the men so prominently featured in his dreams. He began to recognize micro expressions he he'd never noticed before, the pained glances Janus would shoot at their clients when he thought no-one was looking. The wobble in Remus' punk rock grin the time he’d stapled through his thumb. That soft smile Roman seemed to send his way last week when he visited with Remus for lunch.

Unearned or not, Logan wrapped himself in the love their dream versions offered him and relished the affection he could so freely return.

Still, snippets of dreamt conversations haunted him. Intimate discussions and tender moments together. An awkward coffee with Remus. Had he actually shared his suspicions of Devin? Or was it merely just one more part of his fantasies?

The confrontation he’d overheard last month seemed to demonstrate that conversation, at least, truly had happened.

Patton had slept over at Jax's house and so Logan had arrived early for work that day, an un-extraordinary event. What had been unusual was Janus’ closed door.

And the heated voices within.

“Jan, what the hell are you talking about?” Devin’s voice boomed, followed by a thud that rattled the certificates lining the hallway. Logan’s feet stuck to the carpet outside and he listened. “Look, I never—”

“Devin, sit down.” Janus didn’t raise his voice but the shadows under the door shifted and Logan heard the thunk of the loveseat hitting the wall between them. “I called you in this morning so we can handle this quietly,” he continued. “However if you insist on causing a scene, personally, I’m more than happy to wait until the office opens and we can have a proper audience.”

“It’s his word against mine.” Devin's voice dipped into a quiet confidence. “You don’t want this to get loud because then everyone will hear what a liar and slut your bro—”

Remus’ voice came out as a growl. “I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you.”

There was another voice in the room, similar to Remus’ but softer. Not simply quieter, but softer. Roman. Logan couldn’t make out much more than, “—want it to stop. Want him to stop.”

Devin wasn’t quiet. “Firing me over a tiff with your family?” he laughed. “Nepotism’s a bad look on you, Jan. But go ahead and try it. The NLRB and the Bar will fight over your carcass. And as for—”

His rant was interrupted by his own voice, a recording. Muffled, but undeniably him. “You’re not wearing that tonight, are you?” A familiar contempt oozed off his words.

Roman’s recorded answer was louder. But uncertain. “It’s new. I bought it for—”

Logan’s throat jumped up into his throat at a sudden bang in the recording. “Damn, it’s a good thing you’re pretty. I’d never—”

“You fucking recorded me?” Devin’s anger fell away into a laugh as the recording abruptly stopped playing. “Doesn’t matter anyway. Inadmissible without my consent.”

“I don’t need it to be admissible,” Janus purred. He sounded almost bored, the way he did in court right before pulling the final thread in a carefully woven trap. “I just need people to hear it.” The casters on his chair rolled and Logan could imagine him turning away, dismissing Devin from his office.

How many times had Janus ended a conversation with him that way? More than he could count.

“You can go now or you can leave after the rest of the office arrive. Either way, you’re gathering your belongings and leaving today.”

The door opened, propped open by a neon green combat boot. Still sputtering, Devin spilled out into the hallway, bag slung over his shoulder and a stack of case files in his arms. “I’ll take those,” someone—Remus—said, snatching them from his grip.

With a growl, Devin spun, reaching for the files. Remus advanced, and Devin scuttled backwards.

Right into Logan.

“Croft,” he spat as Logan stumbled back, steadying only when his heel caught the wall. Devin narrowed his eyes, mouth opening before his gaze flicked back where Remus stood, glaring, from Janus’ doorway.

“‘Morning, Logan,” Remus nodded, loudly announcing his presence to Roman and Janus inside.

Still, his tone was warmer than Logan might have expected and he nodded back, hoping the flush crawling up his cheeks wasn't noticeable. “Good morning, Remus.” He hadn't even known Remus knew his first name.

Not in the real world, at least.

“Croft, you’re in my—” Devin began, then stopped when Remus feigned a cough. “Excuse me,” he finally said and disappeared into his own office, slamming the door behind him.

Silence settled between them, broken by sharp sounds in Devin’s office and footsteps in Janus’. “I…” Logan started, then cleared his throat, staring at the scuffs on Remus' boots rather than his eyes. “I did not intend to eavesdrop, I…”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” he said, feet already moving back to the office.

Polished leather shoes joined Remus' boots and Logan looked up, meeting Janus’ gaze. “A witness never hurts,” he said. “Particularly one who understands the importance of discretion.”

Logan nodded quickly, not needing Janus to make his threat any more concrete. “Of course,” he added. “I’ll…” Adjusting his glasses, he gestured toward his own office at the end of the hall. “I’ll be… If you need me.”

Janus watched him for a long moment before he nodded and returned to his desk. With another not-quite-glare Logan didn’t know how to interpret, Remus followed. Before the door closed, though, Roman darted out.

“Log—Mr. Croft—I” he stumbled, cheeks flushed in that familiar exuberance. Despite the circumstances, his mouth twitched like it wanted to smile. Full, smooth lips, the bottom caught between perfectly white and aligned teeth. It seemed like he’d hardly aged at all since college. At least until Logan met his eyes and noticed the deep shadows etched beneath them.

Suddenly aware he’d been staring, he cleared his throat. “Roman, we are well within the bounds of propriety if you call me Logan.” It had been a long, long time since he’d last dropped off Virgil and Remy to see their favorite preschool teacher.

“Logan,” Roman repeated, shaping the word carefully. “Thank you,” he added quietly.

Eyes widening, Logan glanced back at the office. He hadn’t expected Remus to share what he’d said, well, what he sort of remembered saying. Frankly, Logan had been nearly certain he’d only imagined the entire conversation. Still, he couldn’t help meeting Roman’s half smile with his own. “It was long overdue,” he said at last. They both jumped at a slammed file drawer echoing out from behind Devin’s closed door.

“Still,” Roman murmured, regaining his smile but avoiding Logan’s eyes. “Thank you,” he said one more time, then slipped back into Janus’ office and closed the door.

A few days after that strange morning, Logan woke before his alarms. Eyes shut, he lay still under the covers as he clung to the rare early morning warmth. Eventually, though, he cracked open his eyes.

The final, fuzzy remnants of streetlight bled through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Had he forgotten to draw the shades? He stiffened, willing himself to rise and close them before the dawn arrived in full. Kelly’s steady breathing behind him stuttered and the bed shifted. Logan closed his eyes, listening. The light couldn’t be bright enough to bleed beneath her sleep mask, but perhaps she was rising for something else?

She moved again and a heavy, muscled arm slid under and around Logan’s belly.

“Hmmm…” A gravelly voice rumbled near his ear. “You’re too far away.” Crossing over his body, a hand found his. Soft, strong fingers brushed gently over his scarred palm and laced their fingers together. Smooth, tanned skin, immaculate nails with a sheen didn’t need his glasses to see. Breath caught in his throat, Logan turned and was met with a soft smile and half-closed green eyes.

“Oh… Roman,” Logan whispered, the name sweet as it spilled from his lips.

Dream Roman grinned, nuzzling closer. “Expecting someone else?” His breath, warm against Logan’s skin, puffed out in a laugh. “Lemme a’ ‘im, lemme a’ ‘im,” he mumbled in a groggy impression Logan couldn’t quite place.

Looking past Roman’s shoulder, his eye snagged on the fuzzy golden costume hanging from the back of the door. He squinted. A lion, with a spot of red in the plush mane letting memory fill in what his vision couldn’t. “The Courageous Lion suits you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss into Roman’s hair as he drew closer.

Pleased laughter bubbled up from his chest, sending vibrations over Logan’s skin. “Patton chose well,” he said. “Even if Virge is a little put out that he’s stuck being a flying—”

'I was working in the lab late one night, when my eyes beheld an eerie sight…'

A boppy tune interrupted Roman and they both laughed. “Speaking of Patton…” Roman groaned as he reached over Logan and snagged the cellphone charging on his nightstand. “Mmm… 'Tis morning,” he mumbled before setting down the phone and brushing little kisses against Logan’s shoulder, his neck, his chest.

He stopped just shy of Logan's navel. “C’mon,” he said, grinning as he sat up. “Let’s get our costumes on.”

“Our costumes?” Logan repeated, pulled in by Roman’s mischievous smile.

“Ah!" he cried, grinning past a faux offense. "You doubted my theatrical costuming experience?" Laughing, he pulled Logan to his feet. "I promised you I'd finish it last night." The first thin light of autumn’s dawn struck the edge of something shiny in the corner of the room. With another musical laugh, Roman passed Logan his eyeglasses.

Nodding, he put them on and gaped at the costume hanging by the closet. “It’s perfect.”

Working ever-so gently around Logan's eyes, Roman was blending three shades of silver face make-up when the doorbell rang. "They're here!" Patton shouted from downstairs.

He flinched at the sudden sound and Roman's hand froze mid-brush. "Sorry, did I hurt you?" he asked, other hand reaching to steady his shoulder.

"No, um, I'm sorry, I—" His face warmed beneath the makeup. He stared down at his silver gloves, avoiding Roman's intense gaze. "Sorry," he said again, addressing his hands. He'd been jumpy all morning as they'd showered and dressed. Even in a dream, surely there was a limit to the other man's patience. How much longer before he found it?

Hand still close enough to feel the heat of his palm where it hovered over Logan's face, Roman swept it down, the whisper of a caress. "Sweetheart? "

Logan risked a glance up at the gentle tone. Roman's smile could've melted stone.

"Are you feeling a little anxious about the parade today?" The hand on his shoulder slid down to press against his chest. "Your heart's pounding," he murmured.

"Perhaps… perhaps a little," Logan managed. Anxious? Yes. Not about the parade, though.

Both their eyes darted to the door at Remus' riotous laughter from downstairs. Roman chuckled and turned back to him. "We're going to look fabulous and Patton's going to have so much fun!"

Roman's grin was infectious and Logan found himself nodding, shoulders easing back down.

"I'm almost done with your make-up and then you can make your grand entrance." Once more he dabbed around Logan's left eye then leaned back, examining his work. "Done—Oh! Almost forgot!" Roman dashed to the dresser and retrieved a red velvet bag from the bottom drawer. He tucked the bag into a pocket hidden in his lion's costume and winked. "For later. Ready?" Roman asked, offering his hand.

A rose gold wedding ring glinted on his hand. Though it was now covered by silver gloves, Logan had woken with a matching ring on his own left hand. He nodded and let Roman help him up to his feet. "Ready."

"Esteemed family and—" Roman's booming laughter interrupted his own proclamation from the foot of the stairs. "Well, you're all family, so… Esteemed family," he began again. "May I present The Tin Woodman?"

At his cue, with one hand on his axe and the other gripping the handrail, Logan followed the curved landing and stiffly managed the final steps to a small round of applause.

He began to bow, then stopped. Still laughing, Roman pawed at the air near his Scarecrow brother, who passed a giggling toddler dressed as a black terrier to Janus before retaliating. Janus was… Was he The Great Oz himself?

Laughing, Logan realized that was the first thing in this dream that hadn't surprised him. Well, perhaps the second.

Patton had gotten ready on his own, adorably clad in the Dorothy costume he'd—secretly—picked out. Giggling, he watched the twins' battle, one hand holding up a cellphone, screen facing out.

Virgil, Remy, and Remy's roommate Emile were crowded into the frame, dressed as the remaining characters from the movie.

Logan waved at the screen. "Sorry you boys couldn't make it down," he guessed. A bit of Virgil's dorm room filled an empty sliver of the screen.

"Don't worry, Dad," Remy said, black pointy hat crooked as he squeezed between Virgil's flying monkey costume and the fluffy overflow of Emile's—Glenda's—ball gown. "We'll be down next weekend for the rehearsal dinner."

"Rehearsal dinner…" Logan began to ask, unsure he heard over the tumult. The toddler had begun to fuss and Logan, old habits kicking into gear, reached for her before he could think better of it. But the little girl sighed happily and settled into his arms, thumb stuck in her mouth.

"Thanks, Lo," Janus murmured and fished out a sippy cup from the bottle slung over his shoulder.

"Yeah!" Craning to be seen, Emile's head rested on Remy's shoulder. "We won't be late!" he added with a grin.

"What, like they'll start without you?" Virgil drawled, rolling his eyes with more affection than his tone held.

All three laughed over the phone and Logan looked closer at the tiny image. At the coordinated pink and black highlights in Remy's and Emile's hair. How close they sat together on the bed.

Roommates. Oh.

Logan's smile grew. "I trust you'll be there," he said.

Remy had been watching him and that little crinkle in his brow melted away. "Hey, we've got class in ten. We gotta go, Dad."

"Well, so do we," Patton laughed and stuck out his tongue at his brothers.

Some things never changed, indeed.

"Fine," Virgil groaned past a smile. "We'll take you with us." With that they all tromped out of the house, the boys still chattering to each other over the videocall. Half listening as they switched topics faster than Logan could fully track, he grabbed the keys hanging by the door, again a muscle memory he only noticed once he'd locked the door behind them. He turned to see two near-identical cars in the driveway.

Janus opened the hatch of the newer SUV and pulled out a tote bag. "Do you have room for this?" he asked Logan.

"Sure, I'll take it!" Patton cried and pulled out his own set of keys.

As they transfered a few more items to the trunk of one car, Logan counted people and seats. In perfect dream logic, there was plenty of space for everyone and he opened his car's rear passenger door. He looked down at the toddler dozing on his shoulder. They would just need a car seat for—

A toddler-sized car seat was already latched in the middle row.

"I'll buckle her in," Remus said his over his shoulder as he shifted the toddler in his arms. "If she wakes up all the way, she'll fight you." Remus grinned as he lifted her in his arms. "'Cause you're Daddy's little fighter, aren't you?"

Logan watched as Remus—Remus?—gently and expertly buckled her in. Flashes of other dreams exploded in his mind. Remus playing games with Patton, throwing snowballs with all the boys. Of both the twins chasing the boys in a park, everyone laughing.

"Pat used to fight carseats, too," Logan murmured.

"I know." Remus laughed and climbed into the seat beside his daughter. "Who do you think taught me how to get her in so quick she doesn't notice?"

"Shotgun!" Roman and Patton called at the same time as Janus opened the doors on the other side.

"I believe you and I are relegated to the back row this time, Pat," Janus said.

"Okay, but I get to choose the music!" he laughed. "That means you need to go," he said to his phone, waving at his brothers.

"One more thing!" Roman called and Patton's eyes widened, nodding.

He turned the phone to point at Logan.

Back turned, Roman pulled out the velvet bag from his pocket. "You'll need this, Mr. Woodman," he said and turned.

Gently cupped in his palm was a pocket watch set in a deep red heart. "Every Tin Man needs a heart to wear," he said, stepping closer.

"Roman, I—" Logan swallowed, a lump growing in his throat. "It's wonderful."

Roman fiddled with a tiny panel on the left side of Logan's costume, revealing a clasp for the pocketwatch. "'A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others,'" he smiled, pinning the heart into place before taking his hand. "And you, Sweetheart, are so very loved."

Logan looked around at this imaginary family he'd dreamt for himself. At the love some tiny part of his mind believed he deserved. "As are all of you," he whispered.

Patton moved close, hugging him from the side, still holding his phone with Remy and Virgil and even Emile waving at him. Perhaps not all imagined. "As are all of you," he repeated, holding his youngest son close.

#sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides #logan sanders #ts logan #ts remus #remus sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #logince #sasi #tss #we're in the logince universe‚ baby!#ts janus #ts patton #ts virgil #ts remy #ts emile #“remy's roommate”#yeah‚ Dad‚ about that…

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