#i chose being less miserable on one axis but miserable in another

[jellydishes]

lies facedown in my bed

[98prilla]

Loved

Follow up to Unwanted, because I love some soft Dark Sides

Next

AO3

...

“Are you sure? Like, really, really, really sure?” Remus asks. Logan squeezes his hand gently, smiling softly, because he understands Remus’s hesitance, he understands why he is afraid, because he is a bit afraid, too.

 “You’ve asked him ten times, Remus. If the answer didn’t change after the first five, why would it change now?” Deceit drawls, though his nervousness shows in his tense posture where he leans against the wall, pretending to examine his fingernails, though he is wearing his gloves.

 “I know! I just, I don’t… I don’t want him to regret it. I don’t want you to regret it and then hate us for making you change and then you’ll be miserable and we’ll be miserable and-“

 “Remus. You aren’t making me do anything. I want to do this. I promise.” He says softly, slipping his hand from Remus’s, approaching the new door in the hallway, hand hesitantly resting against the unblemished wood as he takes a deep breath.

 “Logan! I… be safe. Please.” He nods once at Deceit’s words. He takes a final breath, then opens the door, not hesitating as he steps inside.

 The door slams closed behind him, the echo loud as thunder in the dead silent hall, Deceit and Remus both unwilling to move from their posts, in case anything went wrong.  

…

 The slam of the door makes him jump. Everything is silent, so silent, and the room is pitch black. He squares his shoulders resolutely and walks to the center of the room.

 Then the world seems to spin. He can’t keep his balance, it’s like the explosion of a supernova, it’s silence so loud it’s deafening, it’s nothing and everything and hot and cold and it burns and it freezes and it’s too, too, too much!

 He feels his center shifting, changing, growing, shrinking, it hurts, it hurts, but it also feels so right as his being rearranges itself, adding to his purpose, tilting it on its axis until it is the same, but different, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to cry or laugh or scream as he feels everything settle into place with an ear shattering void of noise.

 He doesn’t know how long it is before he moves from where he fell, crumpled on the floor. He is sore, every part of him aching, as he forces himself to his feet, stumbling at the cresting wave of exhaustion washing over him.

 But he has to know, he has to see, before he can let himself rest, he has to see what he has become.

 He’s not afraid. He thought he would be, but he isn’t. It’s… anticipation. Relief, almost. Because whatever he is now, he knows Deceit and Remus will still want him. Will still care. It’s strange to think that his former family wouldn’t.

 He has changed. His hair is a deep, dark black, in the light it has an almost indigo sheen that he rather likes. His eyes as well, one is that deep indigo, the other a startling silver. His suit jacket is black, buttoned once halfway down, silver embroidery mapping out constellations, his shirt a deep blue. He has a bow tie now, as well, that matches his shirt.

 He reaches up, letting out a small laugh as he feels around the edges of each eye, soft, silver scales dotting up his cheekbones and half outlining his eyes. They sparkle like stars and he loves them immediately.

 He can see. He’s not wearing his glasses anymore, but he can still see perfectly fine, though his silver eye seems a bit sensitive to the light. He wonders if Deceit’s snake eye is also sensitive.

 Deceit. Remus. They’re probably worried. How long… how long has he been in here? He doesn’t quite know, but long enough he’s sure they’re a bit frantic. He stumbles to the door, fumbling with the handle before managing to open it, falling forwards into someone’s arms.

 “gan. Logan!” His ears are ringing, but his name manages to cut through the darkness threatening to overtake him. He manages to blink his vision clear, realizing he’s being supported by Remus, who’s looking at him with fear and wonder and worry.

 “Fine, I’m… I’m fine. Just took a lot… a lot out of me.” Remus’s face softens, some of the worry fading away, and he is pulled into a tight hug before he can say another word.

 “you scared me. You were gone forever!”

 “It was not forever, Remus. It was three hours. That felt like forever. I certainly wasn’t worried, or anything.” Logan chuckles at Deceit’s obvious lie, finding himself unwilling to move away from Remus’s steady warmth. Then Remus takes gentle hold of his shoulders, moving him back, so he can examine him.

 “Nice new look, by the by. Hair, cool, like the blue, new style, nice, very formal rebel chic. You look like a real bad boy, Logan.” He rolls his eyes, suppressing his light blush at the teasing.

 “Dee?” He asks, softly, turning to face Deceit, who hadn’t yet looked up from the ground, as if he were almost afraid to. Slowly, Deceit looks at Logan, examining him from the feet up, letting out a soft, small noise as he reaches Logan’s face.

 He is before Logan in two steps, hands shaking as he reaches out, hovering around Logan’s face, eyes filled with something almost unreadable.

 “may I?” He asks softly, and Logan responds with a smile just as soft.

 “of course, Dee.” He shivers slightly as Deceit’s palms rest on his cheeks, his thumbs carefully stroking his newly formed scales with a feather light touch that just barely tingles against his skin. He closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. It feels so… nice.

 “Logan!” Deceit yelps, startling him awake. Awake? He hadn’t been sleeping, had he?

 “sorry. I... don’t know what came over me.” Deceit had caught him in his arms, holding him carefully.

 “It’s fine, sweetling. You just surprised me, is all. You need to sleep. Preferably in your new room.” He closes his eyes again, nuzzling against Deceit’s chest. One of his favorite things about the Dark Sides, he didn’t feel the need to be the grown up one, the serious one. He didn’t feel embarrassed about wanting or needing touch and affection. They never judged him for it, never made him feel less for it.  

 “What do we call you now, anyways?” Remus chimes in, “I mean, not Logic, anymore, right?”

 “Ambition. I am ambition.” He mumbles, eyes slipping shut once again. “stay? Please? Till I… till I wake up? Don’t wanna be alone.” He feels Deceit lift him up, into his arms, and his hands fist around the fabric of his shirt. “remus too.” He mumbles, and Deceit chuckles, running a hand through his hair.

 “of course, Ambition. Whatever you want, darling.” He feels Deceit kiss his scales, then he succumbs to darkness.

 “Ambition.” Deceit says softly, and Remus can see the gears turning inside his head, trying to process the implications, the meaning, the why and how. “ambition. I think it suits him. He always wanted so much more than they gave him. Still uses facts and figures, uses logic. Logic with emotion. Ambition.” Deceit muses approvingly.

 “God, you two are such nerds. Now, I’m not one to pry,” Deceit snorts, “buuuut since we are spending the night with him, let’s go scope out the new room, already!” Remus is bouncing on the balls of his feet as he skips over to the door, which is now a deep, midnight blue. “c’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” He whines.

 “Shush, you’ll wake him. I’m moving fast as I can. Just go in already!” Deceit laughs, and Remus giddily complies, taking one step inside before he freezes, jaw dropping, eyes wide as he stares up at the ceiling.

 “whoa.” Is the only word that escapes him, and Deceit hurries inside to see what the fuss is, because not much can stop Remus’s endless talking, much less awe him. His eyes widen as he looks around, a soft whistle escaping his lips, because wow.

 The ceiling is moving, swirling, space. It is pitch black, and as they watch, galaxies swirl past, comets shooting across the space, distant stars glittering as supernovas explode in the distance. It is an ever moving, ever shifting, ever changing view of the universe.

 And the floor is like that of an infinity room, mirrored so the ceiling is reflected over and over and over again, like you’re walking through the stars, like you could reach out and touch a sun, like the endless possibility of the universe is unravelling at your feet.

 The walls are dark marble, embedded with shimmering, small moonstones, which shift and glimmer with the light, going from pale, milky blue, to fiery, alit orange, like more endless stars, and gods, it is beautiful and amazing and incredible, and it mirrors Ambition perfectly.

 His bed is still simple, though the duvet is blue and silver, like his jacket. A desk is against one wall, bookshelves line the other, a closet with clothes sits yet untouched. Any personal items, Ambition will have to fetch from his old room. Deceit bites his cheek at that, because he doesn’t know if he can face the others, if he can face Virgil, after this. Because no matter what Ambition says, they will all blame him. They will all say he somehow coerced, tricked, stole, Logan, and forced him to turn dark. As if him and Remus and, once, Virgil, were evil beings sent to hurt them. They aren’t, the terms light and dark arbitrary, but good luck telling that to Thomas.

 It upsets him to be blamed, of course, just because of his role. But that’s not why he’s angry at the thought. It undermines Ambition’s choice. He chose this. The issue shouldn’t be that he changed, the issue should be all the reasons why he changed.

 “DeeDee. You’re overthinking again.” Remus’s soft voice cuts through his thoughts, and Deceit sighs, shaking his head.

 “Caught me red handed, my ever observant Duke. Let’s get settled, before my mind runs away once again.” He replies, rolling his eyes as Remus jumps onto the bed, instantly burrowing under the covers, patting the space beside him.

 “Coming, I’m coming.” He mutters, tucking Ambition under the blankets first, whom Remus quickly secures in his arms, cooing as Ambition tucks his head down against his chest, mumbling something incoherently happy. Deceit slips in next, sandwiching Ambition in warmth, wrapping his arms around both him and Remus, letting out a long breath as his body relaxes, all the tension seeping out of his muscles at the warmth, head resting against Ambition’s.

 “Dee?” Small, hesitant. He smiles, not cracking open his eyes.

 “Yes, Remus?”

 “love you.” Innocent, quiet, the Remus none of the others get to see, don’t give him a chance to show. The one who is sensitive and kind and caring, in his own way. Who is just as insecure as Roman, just as romantic, just as full of love and fierce protection for his family. The one who was the most broken when Virgil left. Because he had loved Virgil, like a brother.

 “I love you too, Remus. So does he.”

 …

 It’s… odd. Waking up, surrounded by warmth, surrounded by arms, gentle breathing near his ear, the rise and fall of a chest, being held like he is the most precious thing in the universe.

 He needs a new name. Logan… doesn’t feel right, anymore. It doesn’t feel like it… fits. Honestly, he’s not sure it ever did. Logan was a name chosen out of convenience. Logic, Logan, simple, clean, easy to remember. It hadn’t mattered much, what he was called.

 But now… now it felt important.

 Idly, he looks up, eyes widening as he sees the ceiling, watching the stars shimmer and spark, earth far away, a vague blue dot against the endless vastness. Space. He’d always loved space, the stars, the theories of the universe’s formation, the mechanics and unknows of it all, how it just… worked. By some miracle, it worked.

 As he watches, the sky changes, swirling, to show what the night sky looks like from earth, the constellations stretching out before him. Ursa major, minor. Big dipper, little dipper. Orion and his belt.

 “Cygnus.” He whispers, lips twitching upwards in a smile. Cygnus. The swan. In Greek myths, so many warriors, heroes, were transformed into swans to escape death, the constellation itself was said to be Orpheus, transformed into a swan and placed in the sky to forever sing his songs. The ugly duckling, finding his place among his species, turning something old and ugly into something new and beautiful.

 “ugh, morning.” Deceit mumbles, and he rolls over to meet Deceit’s eyes, which are still blurry from sleep, his curly hair adorably tousled. “how are we feeling this morning, Ambition?” He smiles at Deceit’s use of his new title.

 “good. Not about to pass out, anymore, at least. A bit sore, still. But better.”

 “Ambyyyy why are you talking? Go back to sleeeeeep.” Remus whines, hugging him tighter around his waist, face buried against his back. He chuckles, heart warming further at Remus’s nick name.

 “We should get up sooner rather than later. Even they won’t be able to ignore a shift this big in the mindscape. Sooner rather than later, we’re going to be summoned. I would prefer to look my best to deal with this occasion.” Deceit says dryly, and Remus groans, but relents, releasing him and sitting up. “go get dressed. I’ll start on breakfast. Everyone needs to eat something today.”

 He shivers as Deceit leaves the bed, wishing they could stay there all day, but he knows Dee is right. Remus plants a soft kiss on his head, before slipping out from behind him.

 “take your time starlight. Look around. It’s pretty amazing, what you made.” Remus slips out the door, Deceit following, shooting him a final, gentle smile as he lets the door close behind him.

 He sighs, letting out a huge, deep, shaking breath. He still couldn’t believe he’d done this. Had the courage, to do this. But honestly, he’s never been happier in his life.

 …

 When he does emerge from his room, his room, for breakfast and makes his way to the kitchen/dining room, much more informal than the light sides dining area, a small table, a counter island with three stools, a vase of flowers on the table.

 “Foxgloves. Pretty and deadly. Literally every part of the plant is poisonous. From your garden, Remus?” He asks, amused as he sits down at the island, where Remus is already leaning, watching Deceit cook, scrambling eggs, based on the smell. Remus’s eyes light up at his classification of the plant.

 “Uh huh. Oh! I should show you! It’s all filled with poisonous plants! I’ve even mixed and bred new breeds! I dunno if they’d actually survive in the real world, but it’s the imagination so, anything goes! If… if you wanna. I know… my part isn’t as pretty as roman’s.”

 “I find that hard to believe, Remus. You have the same level of passion and drive as Roman, and you don’t limit yourself half as much as he does, based on public perception. You don’t let public pressure alter your work. It’s true, unbiased, unfiltered art. I fail to see how that could ever be anything less than beautiful, regardless of how ‘perfect or ‘pretty’ it is or isn’t.” Remus is blushing furiously, and Deceit is staying facing the stove to hide the delighted, glowing grin on his face.

 “And yes, I would love to see your garden. I may be able to offer some advice, as well, if you’re looking to up the toxicity of your specimens. For purely scientific reasons, of course.”

 “Of course.” Deceit echoes, amused as he turns around, spooning eggs onto each of three plates, along with two slices of bacon and a piece of toast, sitting down on a stool on the other side of the counter, across from Remus. They eat in silence for a few moments, before Logan pushes his plate away, mostly finished. Turns out changing burns a lot of calories.

 “I… have something I wish to tell the two of you. In regards… to my name.” Deceit and Remus both freeze, locking eyes a bit frantically.

 “You don’t have to-“

 “It’s not necessary-“ they both blurt out at the same time, stumbling over each other in their rush to stop him from saying anything more. Then they both shut up again as Logan laughs.

 A real, honest, deep, full, laugh. Like church bells ringing, like distant thunder, like heady, summer nights. It’s beautiful, it’s stunning, it’s amazing. And it feels… good. When was the last time he laughed, more than an amused snort, at best? He was too serious, too focused, too adult, for laughing. Not anymore. His laugh finally dies down, leaving him smiling brightly, looking at the two stunned faces of Remus and Deceit.

 “I know I don’t. That’s why I want to. Because I trust you two and I… I want you, to know. I just… I don’t want it to sound… stupid.” It had felt so right, lying sleepily in bed, but he cringed in the cold light of the kitchen, because what if it isn’t? What if they laugh?

 “Ambition. We won’t laugh. We won’t judge. And if you aren’t ready, do not feel the need to say another word on the subject.” Deceit says softly, and he half smiles, taking a deep breath.

 “Cygnus. It’s a constellation. Of a swan.” His face is furiously red, but when he looks up, he sees nothing but warmth and softness and a bright, wondering kind of joy.

 “it’s perfect, Amby. You’re perfect.” Remus whispers, taking his hand and rubbing circles on his knuckles, easing some of his tension, evaporating his fear.

 “Don’t… don’t tell the others?”

 “Of course, sweetling. You tell them if or when you’re ready. We won’t tell them a thing, Cygnus.” He shivers a bit at the use of his name, the way it rolls off Deceit’s tongue, like music. He nods, biting the inside of his cheek.

 “I think… I think we should go to them. Before they summon us. I don’t want to wait around for them to notice something is different. If they haven’t noticed by now, I want to show them. I want to say my piece, before they have time to put words in my mouth.” He squeezes Remus’s hand tighter, determination and a hint of fear spiking through him, but Deceit is nodding.

 “Whatever you want, Cygnus. Everything is up to you. Everything is at your pace. Whatever you want, it’s yours.” And he’s flushing again, at the sincerity of Deceit, the promise in his words, and he knows Deceit means it. Knows he could ask Deceit to walk off the end of the earth, and he would.

 …

 Everyone is yelling. Roman is threatening Deceit, Patton is trying to calm him down but he is also afraid, unsure, and his frantic energy adds to Roman’s. Virgil is staring at him with wide eyed horror and disbelief, his face pale, eyes angry and hard as stone as he spits something cold and cruel at Remus, who flinches, backing behind him, almost as overwhelmed as he is at all the noise. Then Roman breaks free of Patton’s hold and actually swings at Deceit.

 He smoothly steps in front of the snake side and catches Roman’s arm, eyes cold as stars as he halts the swing, and the room goes silent as the sword clatters to the floor, all eyes on him.

 “You don’t want to do that, your majesty.” He hisses, and Roman stumbles back, the three light sides staring down the three dark sides, with Cygnus at their head.

 “Logan… you don’t have to do this. Whatever they told you… it isn’t true. We love you. Please.” Patton, open armed and teary eyed.

 But he knows. He knows Patton wants him back because he’s afraid he won’t be able to moderate Virgil and Roman without him there, that he doesn’t want things to change, that he wants everything to go back to the way it was. But he is not, for a single second, thinking of wanting ‘Logan’ to be happy.

 “You want to be the pinnacle of light, Patton. The perfect father, perfect leader, perfect person. You spend so much time worrying about appearances, Patton. If you looked a little deeper maybe you’d realize no coercion was necessary, nor attempted.” His words are cool, evenly spoken, but Patton still winces, mouth opening and closing several times before he simply looks away.

 “Why? Logan, why go… to them? After everything, after what they’ve done-“ He cuts Virgil off.

 “I don’t know what they’ve done, besides try and do their best for Thomas. Try and help him accomplish his goals. And why? Are you really asking me that? Do you not have a single idea of what could have led to this choice?” He asks incredulously, looking from face to face, seeing nothing but honest puzzlement and it almost makes him furious.

 “I have been gone. For five days.” Patton’s hands fly to his mouth, Roman’s eyes blaze as he glares at Remus, Virgil gasps softly. “I’m glad to see no one noticed my absence.” His lips twist in a grim smile, and he shakes his head, gathering his thoughts for a moment.

 “I have never felt listened to. I have never been valued. I do the work, I put in the time, I try my very hardest to get all of you, any of you, to listen to me, to see me, to care about me, and I am pushed aside again and again and again. It is only when something goes wrong, only when everything has fallen apart to the very extremes does anyone come looking for Logic. So clearly, it wasn’t needed. Logan… wasn’t needed.” They all have the grace to look ashamed at that, and he feels Remus slip his hand into his, before he continues.

 “I was ill. I thought it didn’t matter. I thought I didn’t matter. None of you cared to notice, cared to check on me, cared to ask where I was, while these two were taking care of me, fevered and unconscious for nearly two days. And no one even noticed I was gone. You can have that, as your answer to why.” There’s more, but those feelings are personal, and they have lost all right to his personal emotions, though they barely had it to begin with.

 “Logan-“

 “No. That is not my name anymore. I am Ambition. And that is what you may call me. You have not earned my name. I don’t think you ever truly did. You will leave Deceit and Remus alone. You will not punish them for this. You have only yourselves to blame. If you wanted me so badly, you should have fought for me a little sooner.” With that, he takes Deceit’s hand, and they disappear, back to the dark side, leaving the three lights in stunned, broken silence.

 …

He stumbles, nearly falling, Deceit catching his arm and steadying him.

 “Cyg? You okay?” Remus asks as he straightens, shooting Deceit a thankful glance.

 “Just not used to that popping in and out thing. A bit more dizzying, than sinking in and out.” He replies, sinking onto the couch in the common room, laughing as a blanket is tossed at his face from across the room, which he promptly pulls around himself.

 “You wanna watch anything, Amby?” Remus asks, hesitating by the T.V. Remus wants to play his game console, but only if he is ok with it. Remus, above everything, wants him to be comfortable and happy. He smiles, though he’s on the verge of tears again.

 “No. Go ahead, Ree. The new Resident Evil remake?” He asks, and Remus pauses in turning on the television.

 “How did you know?” His voice is pure curiosity, as he plops on the couch beside him, Cygnus leaning against him as the game loads.

 “New role, new abilities, I suppose. As Ambition, I can tell what people want. Both eventual goals and whatever the current top desire is.” Remus hums thoughtfully, as Deceit comes in from the kitchen, holding a bowl of popcorn. He sits on Cygnus’s other side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, resting the bowl between them.

 “So, then. What is my current desire, Ambition?” Deceit asks, and he swallows hard, because it is radiating off of both Remus and Deceit, and he has never felt like this before. Never felt this blooming warmth in his chest, never felt so wanted, needed, loved, and it burns in a pleasing, soft way.

 “to love me. To show me I am loved, to give me whatever I need, whenever I need it, no matter if it is space or touch, company or solitude. To… to be here, with me, right now. My happiness, is your ambition.” He whispers, conscious of the tears slipping down his face.

 Slowly, gently, Deceit reaches up and wipes away his tears, before pressing a kiss to each of his newly formed scales, nuzzling his head against Cygnus’s cheek before pulling away.  

 “yes. And it always will be.”

 “MOTHERFUCKER” They both jump at Remus’s screech, popcorn flying, looking up at the screen to see a giant monster chasing his character through zombie infested streets. He recovers from his shock first, and chuckles, getting caught up in the action as Remus dodges and shoots, all three of them letting out a cheer as a stranger appears, blasting the monster with a rocket.

 He can still feel the warmth and love radiating off the two of them as they are all sucked into the game, the plot, and he slowly finds himself relaxing against Remus, Deceit massaging his head, and it feels so good, for once everything feels so good, so right, so perfect.

 He is home.