#tell her my heart’s spoken for. and jean is like logan… and then he immediately pivots to ask about xavier

[theswampghost]

i’m um. obsessed with wolverine now

[dramaticironyoflife]

Baby Bird (Fly Home) - Chapter 3: Can You Fly Home?

I am still not in possession of any of the Sanders Sides characters, they are Thomas Sanders'. I just like angst and fluff and don't have the patience to make up my own characters for that right now.

Chapter 3

Summary:

Logan is struck with the horror that he has been in possession of something that may have linked him to Virgil a long time ago. He is unsure if this is still a valid means of contacting his brother or if he is too late.

Logan needed to sit down. He needed to rush to the phone. He needed to throw up. He needed...He needed...he’d better start with sitting down. Logan sank down onto the bed with a small strangled noise. The numbers stared back at him. Logan ran a hand over his face and took a breath. He took his glasses off, cleaned them, and then looked at the photo again. Yes, there was definitely a number on there. 10 digits. A knock sounded on his door. His head shot up and his eyes flew to the doorknob. He’d locked it. “Logan Storm?” Mrs. Plumber’s kind but drawling tone alerted him to who was knocking. “I heard a crash and came to see what all the ruckus was.” Logan felt panicked again. He forced himself to take a deep breath and answer truthfully. “I was having a panic attack and broke the glass in a photo frame I have. I will clean it up but please allow me a few more moments of solitude.” His voice held a robotic drawl to it. This wasn’t new to him. After panic attacks, he’d often pretended to be a robot. Robots felt nothing and he needed to feel nothing when his emotions were at their peak. Mrs. Plumber seemed slightly lost as to how to respond to such an answer, but Logan didn’t exactly give her time to respond as he promptly shut and locked the door. Now that he was alone, he returned to the bed. He looked over the numbers carefully, committing them to memory. The odd comments about changing the frame suddenly made sense. Virgil had been giving him a clue. A clue that he trusted Logan to be able to figure out. A clue that was two years old. If Logan hadn’t been feeling well before, he felt faint now. Black dots danced before him and when he opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) and he got up slowly. The first thing he had to do was clean up the glass. He retrieved a paper bag from downstairs and made quick work of the bigger pieces. The rest was swept up. He was putting the broom away when Chrissy stopped him. “What broke?” She demanded. Logan blinked. He’d been lost in thought and took a second to comprehend her comment. “A picture frame.” “Ours?” “No, mine.” The answer was supplied with an eye roll, some of the people he’d stayed with made a point to remind him how he owned nothing. Chrissy narrowed her eyes again but walked away, glancing at him occasionally. Logan resisted the urge to roll his eyes again as he made his way back to his assigned room. Once inside, he made quick work of gathering up the few things he’d bothered to unpack. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was just after 9. He set to thinking. He would have to figure out first where Virgil was. If he slipped out tonight and made the call and then came back, he would have the opportunity to gather up all that he might need to get by without spending money for a couple days. However, he needed to also be prepared for Virgil needing him to leave immediately. Therefore, he would have to take some necessities with him. The thought of stealing was one that didn’t appeal to Logan, but he couldn’t think of a way around it. The final possibility he had to be prepared for was if Virgil didn’t pick up. If the line was someone else or else just rang with no response, then he would come back and... And what? To be honest, Logan wasn’t sure. He only knew that he would truly give up all hope if this one phone call came to nothing. With a deep breath he stood and made his way to the door. He pulled it open and started as he came face to face with Mr. Plumber. “Oh,” the man struggled to remember the boy’s name. Logan didn’t supply him with one, “I came to wish you a good night.” Logan nodded slightly in acknowledgement. “Thank you, sir. I wish you a restful sleep.” This way of talking was obviously foreign to the older man who merely cocked an eyebrow and then shrugged. Sleep occupied his mind currently and all other oddities came second. Logan made his way to the bathroom, pleased to find it empty and took a quick shower. He took his towel back to his room with him. The sheet of material would work as a blanket should he have to sleep outside. Logan has never been happy about his thin, wiry frame. He was small in his build too. He had large brown eyes, only made bigger by his thick glasses. However, he at last found an advantage with it. He would be easily concealed in shadows and few would take notice of him. All the same, he changed into his darkest clothes, a pair of black jeans and a collared shirt. After a second of hesitation, he added a blue tie. If anyone asked him who he was or where he was going, he could tell them he was a student and his outfit, he hoped, looked enough like a school uniform to sell it. He pulled a hoodie out of the bottom of his bag and put that on as well. It was noticeably too big on him and he had to bunch it up around his wrists to gain access to his slim hands and narrow fingers. With a final glance at himself in the mirror he deemed himself properly dressed. Now, as it was just after 11:30, he set about to wait until about 2AM. After pacing around for 15 minutes, he finally settled on the bed, set an alarm and fell into a dazed sleep that had him starting awake many times before he deemed it late enough to truly get up. At 1:47 he grew tired of waiting and shook out the bed sheets quietly. He made the bed almost automatically, it was something that he’d done ever since he was little. A singular item that was always neat and orderly in his life. Bed made, he slipped out of his room through the door he’d left ajar on purpose. Making his way down to the kitchen and gathering a few items was the simple part. He needed to get out and that was a much more difficult task. He certainly didn’t want to leave through the front door, that would leave the house open and the family exposed to potentially being robbed. He could go through a window, but he had no clue where to go once he got outside. A faint light hit his chest and Logan felt his heart stop. “What are you doing?” The amount of demand in that question told Logan whom the speaker was even before he’d seen her face. Chrissy stood with determination written on her face. Logan thought for an answer a lie, but found his usually useful brain blissfully empty. He stared at her in awkward silence while she took a noisy gulp of the glass of water she was holding. He watched as the fog of her breath destroyed the transparency of the glass, leaving only the piercing black eyes staring at him over the rim. “I’m going to make a phone call.” He was surprised at the truth that tumbled out with his permission. The girl cocked an eyebrow and took another gulp of water. She then looked at Logan with a searching gaze. “To who?” “Whom.” Logan corrected automatically and then winced. Probably not the best course of action with someone who holds your fate. She only raised her other eyebrow at this statement. Logan sighed in defeat, “I found something that is potentially connected with my brother.” Chrissy spluttered, much to Logan’s secret enjoyment, and lowered her glass to cough a couple times. “You’re running away?!” She asked in a way that might’ve been awe but Logan wasn’t sure. He nodded slowly and then again with more determination. He then turned and walked to the living room and began hunting the shelves of the bookcase. He had to find a map or something. Chrissy stared at him before turning and pattering away. There was a period of silence during which Logan began to wonder if Chrissy had decided to betray him. The sound of steps returned, and he turned to see her holding a cell phone. “Here. You can call him outside.” The gesture was so unexpectedly impactful on Logan. He stared at the device as if it was some alien object he’d never seen before. He found himself outside and his fingers moving over the keypad before his mind caught up to him. He froze. What was he doing? This was ridiculous. Virgil had left that number four years ago. What was the likelihood that…he pressed call. He wondered if the ringing sound he heard was coming from the phone or his own head. “Hello?” Logan froze. That voice. “....Hello?” It said again. A sob broke out of him and he dropped to his knees. “V-verge?” He choked. There was a sound of a gasp. “Logan?!” Logan nodded, crying harder. “Lo-Lo! It’s Virgil. Hey, hey, don’t cry. Gosh. I can’t believe it’s you.” A warm laugh reached Logan through the phone. Logan wanted nothing more than to crawl through the phone and be reunited with his brother. It hurt. The tears slowed and he was able to think again. “Virgil,” his voice was hoarse, “why...” “Not now, Logan. I promise to tell you everything, but I want to do it in person. Where are you?” Logan felt eagerness rivaled with annoyance. He was angry. At Virgil. “Why?” “So, I can come to you, of course. Lo, I thought you’d be able to figure that one out.” Another chuckle. It made Logan angrier. “No, why did you leave me?” Silence. “Verge?” Fear gripped Logan that he’d just ruined the one chance he had to see his brother. “They wanted to separate us.” The words were spoken in low tones of anger. “They wanted to take you away from me, but I couldn’t let them. I left. I wanted to take you with me, but I didn’t have anything. I had to make it so I could give you a home and food a-and just take care of you. I hoped you’d find the number I left…but I’ve been looking for you, Lo-Lo. I-I thought maybe you’d been adopted or...” A pause, “Logan, have you been adopted?” The amount of fear in Virgil’s voice almost stopped Logan’s heart. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scoff at the question, so he simply gave a small “no” and heard Virgil sigh in relief. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

[i-require-cheddar]

One of the Team

Virgil's POV

    You know, if it weren't for football I would probably just fade into the background of this school even as a new student. Outside of football I am the anxious loner. Don't speak unless you are spoken to kind of guy, but out on that field it's different. On the field it's action. Get from place to place; let instincts kick in. They say it's fight or flight, and I am most certainly flight. Dodging and maneuvering players trying to reach my destination. It's always the same. People saying, "I didn't know you had it in you," or whatever other variations of that. People assume social skills and football walk the halls hand-in-hand. No one would ever guess the dark looming figure hunched over his desk in the back of the room would be a star football player.

    I sighed. This class was so boring that I was monologuing about football. We can't have that. Luckily, my distraction walked into the room. Roman Cenric, a fellow football player and the definition of a social butterfly. He had a way of gracing the room with his presence. Making each person he walked by aware he was there in the way he carried himself. Roman walked as if he were preparing himself for the situation just a few steps in front of him, but not in the same anxious way as I do. He was known for tackling on the field and had also seemed to tackle any other life situation along with that. I let the music from my earbuds fade out as I watched him make his way through the room to talk to his usual posse.

Roman's POV

Entering my study hall, I immediately deviated towards my friends. This class is always talkative and laid back so no one made any fuss as we went on talking throughout the period each day. After the usual playful banter and conversation of friends one of my friends started to change her tune. Piper, a perceptive girl who I have known for half of this year spoke up, "Earbuds is staring at you again, Roman,".

"Who is 'Earbuds'?" you may ask. Well, I'd be very happy to tell you he is that baggy sweater wearing and overall edge king in the back. Properly known as Virgil Bodil. Personally, I love the look. Ripped black skinny jeans and raccoon-style eyeshadow never seemed to suit a person so well. In the past few weeks since he joined the school Piper noticed that he had a tendency to stare at me and this lead to a long process of creating his nickname and placing bets as to why he seemed so fixated on me. A couple of the boys in the group had placed their bet at $25 that he hates me and they tend to make jokes that he is plotting how to get to me before our senior year is over. My friend Natalie had bet them that he is intimidated by the competition I give him for his title of star football player. Finally, there was Piper, who hadn't made a bet, but instead told me her thoughts personally.

Although I've known Piper for the shortest amount of time, her and I have become far tighter knit than the others. Piper and I have more in common with her being a closeted gray-ace with a preference for girls. So what does that have to do with me? Well...let's just say football and being gay do not mix well. The other guys would not be the merriest to know that the guy they have been on the field and in the locker room with all throughout football season was a homosexual. So that being said, I am a very closeted gay.

Back on topic; Hot Topic that is. Piper believes that Virgil has feelings for me. Granted, we know nothing of his sexuality, but it's not as if I minded playing around with the idea. At first, I thought I had nothing more than a, "He seems interesting," sort of friend crush. As I first watched him at the start of this year. He kept to himself and always looked rather adorable curled up in his desk in his baggy hoodies. Then football happened. Determination and focus took over him. It was incredible. Not to mention he wasn't hard on the eyes. You could never tell he had any muscle under that hoodie so it was a bit of a happy surprise to see how fit he was. It wasn't just about looks though. There was something about how he handled himself on the field, his rare chuckle where he would bring is balled up sleeve to his mouth as he watched videos in Study Hall. Okay, so maybe he wasn't the only one doing the staring, but I couldn't help it. He captivated me in little ways. And I was feeling bold. I turned to Piper and smirked. It was my senior year and this boy had just waltzed in that year and stolen my heart. I had to try.

Virgil's POV

    As I sat contently watching Roman I saw him turn to a girl and smirk. Anxious thoughts tried to bubble their way to the surface. That was probably his girlfriend. He did interact with her more than the rest of his group. These thoughts were cut off by the sight of Roman's smirking face turning towards my lingering stare. My eyes widened and I quickly looked back down at my desk. I fumbled with my phone trying and failing to pretend I didn't notice our eyes meeting. I could feel a small blush creeping it's way onto my features. I hate how easy it is to make me blush. I quickly started to flip through tumblr in a desperate attempt to think about something other than his eyes that I could still feel watching me, but instead my mind was caught up in seeing those beautifully rich brown eyes up close.

    The bell rang and I immediately turned off my phone and grabbed my stuff. Rushing off to the cafeteria, I ran right into Patton sprawling my belongings and the both of us across the hallway. Patton was my like my guardian angel ever since I joined this school. Him and his boyfriend, Logan, had quickly adopted me. Patton was always looking out for me. Guess he didn't spot me this time though. Ever by Patton's side, Logan stooped over to help Patton up as I promptly began to try and grab my things in the crowd of migrating feet.

     My mind began to race as I tried to pick everything up between the moving feet and the feelings of guilt and anxiety come crashing through my systems. Why am I like this? These thoughts continues till the paper I was reaching for was picked up by someone else. "Oh no," I said aloud, barely audible. I could recognize that paper from a mile away. I know because I had spent a week coddling it, not even letting Patton see it. It was a drawing of mine. Yes, I draw; often. I don't usually show anyone except Patton and Logan, but this one was different. This one was a very detailed drawing of a smile I had been cherishing for weeks. I had spent far too much time on it to be normal and I had written some song lyrics fancifully underneath. "Like one small shaft of light, flooding into my eyes," the lyrics were from one of my favorite songs, "into the wild" by Lewis Watson which I had come to associate with Roman. it was Roman's smile; my small shaft of white.

    I looked up to see just who had been the one to pick it up. Just as I feared, it was him. "I just get luckier," I mumbled to myself. "It seems so," Roman beamed from above me, offering me a hand to help me up. Great, watch me ruin my already close to nonexistent chances with him. I took it wearily. Patton spoke up, "We'll go take you things to your locker for yah, Virge," he said as he took my armful of belongings and stuffed them into my bag with the help of Logan and then they went on their way. Everyone else had cleared out of the hallway either going to class or lunch. Leaving me alone with Roman and a drawing he was never meant to see. I turned back to face him to be hit by those rich eyes closer than I had ever imagined seeing them. I stumbled a bit awkwardly taking a step back. Roman offered a gentle smile, "Did you draw this?" He asked curiously gesturing with the paper still in hand. "Uh.. yeah," was all I had to offer. It sounded like a question. He smiled, "Incredible," Roman said fondly looking back to the drawing. Then he cleared his throat,  "I suppose I had better return this," as he handed it back. He almost seemed...shy? Roman was never shy. So why now? Maybe my level of anxiety is contagious. Is that possible? Where is that encyclopedia, Logan, when you need him?

    Roman cleared his throat once again and I realized I had yet to take the drawing from him. I quickly grabbed it and started carefully tucking it into a folder mumbling a sorry. "There's no need to apologize," he paused looking thoughtfully and then continued by saying, "Want to go get lunch?"

"Oh yeah! Sorry, I suppose we had better go do that-"

"No, I mean...Would you like to go get lunch with me?"

Maybe this year won't be so bad.

@nightwhisker17 sorry it’s trash 😓