#my mom literally made muffins and my brain took one look and went sorry nope
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All I could make myself eat for breakfast was some sugar cereal and while I did put milk on it I’m definitely going to regret it later
#my mom literally made muffins and my brain took one look and went sorry nope#ugh#and for some reason I agreed to babysit last minute tonight for my sister and her husband#which I don’t totally mind doing but Friday evenings are when I take a nice long shower and play video games with my siblings for a while...#but no I agreed to do it I’m just being a gripey jerk#I’m just not doing great#rambles from the floor
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Dreaming While I Wake
Sanders Sides Foster Care AU - Roman-centric Angst & Hurt/Comfort & Abuse Recovery
Roman tries to be upbeat and hopeful despite all the shit that’s happened to him. And a lot of shit has. Luckily, his new foster home is with two literal rays of sunshine (and a sarcastic asshole).
Words: 4,014 Warnings: Depression, Dissociation, Abuse reference, Drug Trafficking Reference, Food, Horrible Internet Recipes Characters: Roman, Thomas, Virgil, Patton Universe: Dreaming While I Wake Genre: Angst/Family
Chapter 19
chapter 1 for new readers - ffn mirror
Roman woke up to canned laughter on TV. Virgil was watching the old black-and-white Addams Family show. It surprised Roman it wasn’t too campy for Virgil even if it was clearly his style. Virgil perched on the couch arm on the other end of the couch on his phone, but he was looking up to the show more than his phone. Roman didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep. Probably because he’s still sleeping like shit. Maybe it caught up to him. Maybe he was just sick enough of everything that his brain finally gave up. If only that power could be utilized at night. He was mad he had to wake up, though. He wanted to stay asleep forever. But he may as well be here to suffer just the same. Just staying asleep was probably too good for him, anyway. Roman rubbed his face, forgetting about the gloves. They pulled at his skin a bit. Whatever.
Roman exhaled and stared ahead. He was feeling kind of numb. Out of energy? Out of fucks to give? His brain’s finally given up on him? Why didn’t really matter. It didn’t feel like much mattered. Stuff probably did. He had to remember there were things that did. It was something that is caseworker told him to do; he remembered that. When it felt like nothing mattered, he had to make things matter again. It was hard, though. Lita was curled up at his feet. Lita mattered. He couldn’t run with her anymore, but that didn’t matter. The Sanders mattered. They were nice. He felt like a burden on the Sanders, but maybe he could make that thing not matter. Nope, it mattered that he was an awful burden still. Remus mattered. That was always something Roman could hold on to.
Oh, oh! It was Friday. Friday meant that maybe Mr. Hartley might have a way to contact Remus. That mattered. That mattered so much. Roman shifted as much as he could without twisting his torso to check the clock. There was still a while to go. Roman sighed and settled back down on to the couch. Why can’t he just go back to sleep?
“Ah, nice to you, bright eyes. You’re looking slightly less pale,” Thomas said, leaning over the top of the couch.
“Hey,” Roman said weakly and waved, barely glancing at Thomas.
“Still not feeling great?” Thomas asked. Roman shrugged, he wasn’t feeling much of anything. “It’d be really helpful if you told me how you were doing,” Thomas said patiently.
“I don’t feel anything,” Roman supplied. “So, y’know,” Roman shrugged again. Thomas looked concerned at him for a moment.
“How are your ribs?” Thomas asked. Roman still didn’t know, so just tilted his head and made a dismissive motion with his hands. “How about I help you in to the backyard? You can play fetch with Lita and get a little sun. You’ve been cooped up too long,” Thomas offered. Roman blinked a few times, processing that.
“Whatever,” Roman conceded. He supposed he didn’t really care where he was.
“Virgil, could you reach around and knock on the window when Patton comes in?” Thomas looked over to Virgil, who nodded after a pause. “Thanks,” Thomas came around the couch and helped Roman up. His body really didn’t want to move, it seemed, since he felt stiff and creaky, but the more he moved the easier it was.
Thomas helped Roman on to a chaise lounge in the backyard. Roman stared ahead to the fence and the garden in the back. He heard Lita’s dog tags jingle, and she excitedly shoved her nose into Roman’s dangling palm. Roman pet her head idly for a moment until she started running around the yard. Roman’s eyes followed her around the backyard until she ran up with a tennis ball. He took it and threw it kind of weakly, but she barked and chased after it all the same.
“It’s nice outside, isn’t it?” Thomas commented.
“Hm?” Roman made a noise, not really following what Thomas said for a moment. Then he processed it and noticed the temperature. It was nice and warm with a little breeze. “Yeah,” Roman agreed. Lita ran back up with the ball and Roman threw it a little better this time.
“If you could do anything, what would you pick to do right now?” Thomas asked, leaning against the house.
“See Remus,” Roman shrugged.
“We’ll see what your social worker says. What would you do with Remus if you had all the time and resources in the world?” Thomas leaned against the top of the chaise lounge.
“Roller coasters. Maybe a water park,” Roman responded after a pause.
“Do you like theme parks?” Thomas asked. What was this, 20 questions? Lita made a lap around the yard again.
“They sound fun,” Roman said dismissively.
“Have you ever been to a theme park?” Thomas watched Lita run in circles and trip over her own leg with a chuckle.
“No, I’ve just heard about them in school,” Roman shook his head. “I’ve been to a pool that had a giant slide and that was fun, so I bet roller coasters are, too. Remus likes heights and jumping off of stuff. Liked, I guess. I guess I don’t know what he likes anymore,” Roman said a little dourly.
“Did you jump off things a lot when you were younger?” Thomas asked lightly.
“All the time. Mom always got so mad at us,” Roman laughed weakly.
“When did you last seem him?” Thomas asked, leaning against the chaise lounge.
“The first family we were with was the only one willing to take two kids. They split us up after they kicked us back for being too much,” Roman explained.
“You haven’t even gotten to visit him since they separated you?” Thomas sounded concerned.
“Yeah,” Roman muttered and wrung his fingers a bit. “It was never a priority. Or they broke their promises. Or it was too far. Or it was too much effort. Blood relations aren’t important. I didn’t earn it. I’m not worth it. I’ve heard a lot of reasons. I stopped asking. We used to talk on the phone before I wasn’t allowed to use phones anymore,” Roman watched the breeze ruffle the leaves. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure. What’s a hobby that sounds awesome to try?” Thomas changed subjects. Maybe it was 20 questions.
“Um. I don’t know,” Roman said honestly. Open-ended questions were always hard for him.
“What stuff do you like?” Thomas leaned down and picked up the tennis ball Lita dropped too far away for Roman to reach and handed it off to Roman to throw again. Roman chucked it farther this time and Lita went wild chasing it, nearly ramming into the fence.
“Art… and doing stuff with my hands or things that are active, I guess,” Roman said after a lengthy pause of strained consideration.
“What stuff are you good at?” Thomas asked. Roman froze. There was a knock on the window. Saved by Virgil. Thank god, he nearly said ‘fucking up’. Roman blinked and shook his head for a moment in sheer relief.
“Patton’s here,” Roman provided, pointing to the door.
“Keep your gloves on, please,” Thomas said and went back inside. Lita came happily trotting up again and hopped up and panted happily on his lap. Roman smiled slightly and pet her. He tried to scratch behind her ears, but with the gloves, it was more like weird rubbing, so he stuck to petting. Patton came out on to a patio munching on a muffin a few minutes later.
“Hey kiddo!” Patton smiled brightly.
“Hey,” Roman waved slightly and kept petting Lita.
“Feeling kind of out of it, huh?” Patton asked, walking up to Roman.
“Kinda,” Roman stared at the sky. He was a little more here than earlier, but still kinda… eh.
“You want to come sit in the grass with me?” Patton asked, holding out his hand. Roman looked to Patton and took his hand. Lita jumped off his lap, and they walked off the patio into the yard. “You can take off those snazzy gloves,” Roman slipped them off and Patton helped Roman down into the grass. They both sat there quietly for a moment. Feeling the grass was actually pretty nice after wearing those gloves all day. “What did you do this afternoon?”
“Um, I read in Thomas’s office and played games. Sorry,” Roman muttered and trailed off.
“You don’t have to apologize for that, you were doing what we asked you to do. Thomas said you wanted to do some homework. Did you want to work on it together after dinner?” Patton said sympathetically.
“I’ve, uh, got it,” Roman muttered.
“We asked you to take a break so we should help you catch up, it’s only fair. I swung by the school to pick up the rest of your homework for this week,” Patton said.
“Oh, goody,” Roman deadpanned and Patton chuckled.
“What kind of food do you like? You don’t normally say you want anything specific,” Patton asked, leaning forward on his hands in the grass.
“I’m really not picky,” Roman shrugged and worried a blade of grass between his fingers.
“I’m just wondering if you have a favourite food,” Patton said, tilting his head and looking over hopefully to Roman.
“Not really,” Roman shook his head.
“So, what would be your last meal if you got to pick one?” Patton asked, holding up a finger.
“Something fancy, probably. Lobster is fancy, right?” Roman picked at a grass blade that came off between his fingers.
“So there're no foods that make you excited?” Patton asked curiously. Roman shook his head. Not anymore, anyway. “Maybe we need to find your new favourite food, then! We can try out fun recipes online,” Patton offered.
“You don’t have to do an effort for me, I’ll eat whatever,” Roman held up the grass blade he was picking at and released it to the breeze.
“I know you’ll eat ‘whatever’, but it’s fun to try new foods! I was trying to pick what to make for dinner tonight,” Patton explained.
“Virgil usually has a preference, you could ask him,” Roman motioned with his thumb towards the house.
“He normally does,” Patton chuckled in agreement. Roman considered what he thought Virgil might like for a moment and got an idea.
“I saw this recipe for enchilada lasagna he might like. Us mortals should be able to eat it with sour cream,” Roman offered. Plus, he was curious if any of those foods in the videos he’d been watching lately were any good or if they were just for show.
“Oh, it’s a spicy one?” Patton snickered curiously.
“Not inedible. He’ll probably still want to put hot sauce on it,” Roman mimed using a hot sauce bottle, with a slight grin.
“Let’s go see if we have ingredients for it. I’m not sure about enchilada sauce,” Patton said, sounding like he was thinking hard.
“My grandmother would yell at me from beyond the grave if I used canned enchilada sauce when it’s cheaper to buy tomato sauce,” Roman laughed, moving to get up.
“Oh, did you used to cook with her?” Patton scrambled up quickly to help Roman take the pressure off his feet.
“She watched us often,” Roman said dismissively.
“Was your grandmother the one who taught you how to cook?” Patton held open the door for Roman to head back inside.
“My mom and grandmother both learned quickly it was better to keep us busy, so we helped them cook often. We were too young for lots of it, though, I finished learning at the library,” Roman said, the pair of them heading into the kitchen.
“That’s very proactive of you! So, what do we need for this?” Patton asked as they entered the kitchen.
“Enchilada stuff. Meat, black beans, cheese, tortillas, onion, peppers, bell peppers, tomato sauce,” Roman supplied.
“Oh, sorry kiddo, we don’t have tortillas,” Patton frowned.
“They’re flour and water. Do you not have flour and water?” Roman smirked, leaning into the vegetable drawer in the fridge.
“Oh, really?” Patton said curiously, digging in the pantry.
“What meat do you want to use?” Roman asked as he procured the needed vegetables.
“What do you think is best?” Patton asked.
“Chicken thighs, probably,” Roman pulled that out from the meat drawer as well. “Do you have canned peppers? There’s none in here,” Roman stuck his head out of the fridge to ask Patton.
“We do, I’ll get them,” Patton said and withdrew a few cans and brought them to the counter. “Grandma won’t be mad about canned peppers?”
“My grandmother grew her own peppers, but she supports the use of canned,” Roman smiled fondly. “Whatever was cheapest was the best option. She was on a fixed income. She planted seeds from the ones she got from a friend. She was always proud of her ‘stolen garden’,” Roman put the things from the fridge on the counter.
“Wow, your grandma was awesome,” Patton smiled.
“She was determined,” Roman dug around on the spice shelf for the spices they’d need.
“So are you! Let's get you a chair so you can get off your feet,” Patton said, grabbing a chair from the kitchen table and putting it next to Roman.
“What’s first?” Patton asked brightly.
“Seasoning the chicken,” Roman provided. He kneeled on the chair so he could still reach the counter but get off his feet. They were already hurting. Patton let Roman do most of the cooking. It was understandable, he didn’t know the seasonings and only Roman knew how to make tortillas. But he ran around the kitchen getting Roman things and chopped up the vegetables to he could make them. He even let Roman cook the filling, which he could have taken over for. But Roman really liked being able to do something after doing nothing for days, so he said nothing, even when his knees got kind of sore.
Roman sat down on a kitchen chair in with an exhausted exhale after Patton slid it in the oven to finish cooking. Roman leaned forward on the table tiredly, hoping the monstrosity would taste good. Patton sat down with him with an odd-looking smile.
“It smells amazing in here. I’m sure you did your grandma proud,” Patton said brightly.
“I’m pretty certain she would say this is an abomination, actually, but she’d laugh while she said it before ranting about how deeply and horrifically wrong it is,” Roman smiled and shook his head. He was acutely aware of how wrong this ‘meal’ was, too. But the morbid curiosity about Virgil’s capacity to eat garbage was louder than his good sense. The ingredients were all good, so it was relatively low risk, dinner wise. Unless they got mad at him for making garbage food, maybe. God, did his knees hurt after all that kneeling. He stretched them carefully under the kitchen table. “She always liked what we did, even if it was terrible. She had crayon drawings from when I was 3 framed on the wall.”
“She sounds very sweet,” Patton smiled softly.
“You would have probably gotten along with her,” Roman leaned on the table. “Are your grandparents still alive?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m afraid they wouldn’t get along with your grandma, though,” Patton said pensively.
“How do you mean?” Roman furrowed his eyebrows.
“They’re just very old fashioned,” Patton said dismissively. “Would you like some orange juice? You’ve got to be a little hot from all the cooking,” Patton said, getting back up.
“Um, yeah, that sounds good,” Roman mumbled as he continued to stretch his legs under the table. Patton grabbed Roman a glass of orange juice before pulling out dishes to set the table. “Sorry for having you do all this stuff for me,” Roman apologized quietly.
“I offered, and I’m doing it because I want to,” Patton smiled and started setting out dishes. Roman sipped his orange juice and watched Patton as he set out the dishes. “Are you feeling less out of it?” He eyed Roman with interest.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” Roman said, not realizing it until now. “Thanks, I think?”
“You came back yourself, there, champ. I just helped show you how,” Patton winked.
“Is hanging out in the grass and making dinner really how to do it?” Roman asked, leaning on his hands and tilting his head.
“You just needed some grounding. You’ve probably been thinking lots about the past and getting stuck there. Grass, sunshine, chatting, and making dinner just helped pull you back to the present,” Patton smiled softly.
“How do you know so much about this stuff? Aren’t you an animal doctor and not a people doctor?” Roman asked curiously, stroking the perspiration on the glass.
“I was in therapy for a long time, kiddo. It really helped me out when I was in a bad place. My therapist gave me lots of tools to help focus on the present and being a good person,” Patton said, leaning forward.
“Does it have something to do with why my grandmother wouldn’t like your grandparents?” Roman asked carefully.
“You’re a sharp kid. But you’ve got plenty on your plate right now. I think it’s better for you to focus on good things at the moment since you’ve been struggling lately. Like the enchilada abomination in the oven!” Patton chuckled, motioning to the oven.
“A-, uh, my grandmother-” Roman caught himself. “-would really like you. Maybe she’ll come to make fun of this freak feast on November first,” Roman smirked at the folly of man in the oven.
“Do you celebrate the day of the dead?” Patton perked up.
“She did. Mom kind of did. I’ve never really done it without her. Dad didn’t like it. I just think if anyone would visit, it would be her, I guess. I know it’s kind of dumb. Really dumb. I shouldn’t have said anything,” Roman mumbled and nervously fidgeted with his hands.
“Stop right there, kiddo. It’s not dumb. It’s okay to miss your grandma and hope she visits. Nobody else has the right to tell you your dumb for your beliefs, okay? If you want to set up something on November first, I’m happy to support you. Maybe Virgil wants to join. If I remember correctly his dad was from Mexico. Even if he doesn’t, there’s no harm in trying, just because it reminds you of her,” Patton reassured him. Roman nodded silently.
“Patton, will you be honest with me?” Roman asked after a pause, nervously picking at his nails.
“Of course I will,” Patton nodded and looked a little nervous, but smiled nonetheless.
“Would you rather have gotten someone else less fucked up? Are you just settling on me because it’s the nice thing to do?” Roman asked quietly.
“Roman, please don’t use the F word. I don’t like that language,” Patton frowned.
“Sorry,” Roman muttered, dropping his head.
“I’m not settling on you, Roman. Thomas and I went going into this ready to love and support anyone who came to us. I think you’re a great kid and I think we get along just fine. I’m sorry if my emotional reactions scared you or made you think I didn’t think you were worth it. Sometimes it’s hard to deal with stuff that hits so close to home for me,” Patton admitted.
“You didn’t also sell drugs, did you?” Roman asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow at Patton.
“No! No, I just didn’t have a great time with my grandparents and there wasn’t anybody to stand up for me,” Patton explained, shaking his hands. “I was upset about it not seeming like anybody ever stood up for you, because you keep blaming yourself for things that objectively don’t need blame taken for. I freaked out because in a million years I never expected to hear about a teenager making drug deliveries because his guardians refused to take care of him. Especially about such a sensitive kid like you who always tries to put other people’s feelings first,” He motioned to Roman.
“I, uh… sorry. But I started running for Jet at 12,” Roman muttered. Patton’s eyes widened and he kind of looked like he wanted to scream, but he didn’t move or make a sound. Roman still leaned away nervously. “Sorry. I was 13 when the Halls… uh,” Roman paused. Patton took a deep breath.
“If you want to say it, you can,” Patton said, taking a deep breath.
“This, um, maybe ‘hits close to home’,” Roman rubbed his arm. “Um, it was about wanting more money from us and it got so bad my caseworker was fired. Jet’s might have, too. I never called him to find out. I kinda took the excuse to cut ties. After things got bad he got bad, too. I don’t blame him or anything, but still…” Roman trailed off.
“Do you still have his number?” Patton asked curiously, looking less like he would scream, but now and much more sad.
“Um… yeah. Just in case I needed to make some fast money. It was a burner, so the number is probably long since disconnected from him. It’s more of a reminder now. I can’t bring myself to throw it away,” Roman admitted, not able to meet Patton’s eyes.
“As long as you’re not using it to hurt yourself, I suppose,” Patton muttered, not sounding like he actually believed what he said.
“Sure, I won’t give myself a paper cut with it or whatever,” Roman said, kind of baffled by the implications.
“No, I mean looking at it to remind yourself that in a time of desperation you did something you didn’t want to do and judge yourself harshly for your choices,” Patton explained.
“Uh, yeah,” Roman said meekly. Patton’s lips tightened, and he hummed suspiciously.
“When you’re a kid and you make bad choices, it’s important that you learn from them but you can’t hate yourself for them. When you’re young, you don’t have a lot of resources and you don’t have all the information. Parents are supposed to protect you from all that stuff. I wouldn’t be surprised Jet made it seem like it was harmless at first. He was older than you and offering help, so wanting to trust him was natural. Nobody was there to take you, or even Jet, out of that situation, and that wasn’t your fault. That was your guardian’s fault, full stop. You should never have been in that situation in the first place and you can’t blame yourself for what you did while trying to survive if you really were trying not to hurt people. And I can’t imagine you did, kiddo. I just don’t see it in you,” Patton said firmly, and Roman could barely take hearing it.
“Pat, dude, it’s not going to look good for you if I’m crying when Mr. Hartley gets here,” Roman joked while sniffling. He rubbed his eyes and put his head down on the table.
“I’m sorry, kiddo, but I think you needed to hear it,” Patton said. “Do you want…” Patton paused and Roman nodded into his arms on the table. Patton got up from the table and put his arm around Roman while he tried to pull himself together. The oven timer went off and Patton let go with after lightly rubbing his back to go pull the monstrosity out of the oven. Roman sipped his OJ and wiped the tears threatening to escape again. Virgil walked into the kitchen and looked oddly at Roman for a moment.
‘Smells awesome. But what the fuck?’ Virgil signed.
‘Patton was being an asshole,’ Roman signed back with a weak smirk.
‘I always knew it,’ Virgil side-eyed Patton facetiously. ‘Seriously, you okay?’
‘No,’ Roman signed and shrugged.
‘Valid,’ Virgil fingerspelled. ‘What’s for dinner?’
‘An abomination unto god,’ Roman fingerspelled slowly. Virgil’s smirk widened into a mischievous grin.
‘I always wanted to eat an unholy abomination,’ Virgil signed back and sat at the table next to Roman.
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