#wow i cranked this out in one day im proud?? between all the family things??? hell yeah

[aliferous-ly]

Forgot

WOW I TOTALLY DIDNT FORGET ABOUT SECRET SANTA AHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA ME??? FORGET??? NEVER

Summary: “Logan, meanwhile, was struggling to suppress the growing panic in his chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Logan chastised himself, rubbing his gloves together, breaths making little puffs of white in the cold air. What would still be open? Walmart? Probably? For those as irresponsible and foolish as he?” 

Words: 3866 bc i’m uncontrollable

Genre: fluff??? idk my man

Pairing: there’s no explicit romance. logicality if you squint but its like, heavy platonic shipping ig? i’m a mess forgive me

warnings: uhh ghosts implications, there’s a cancer mention, self deprecation, i think that’s it?? if there’s something else let me know!!

tags: @sassy-in-glasses @rose-gold-roman @justanotherpurplebutterfly @echomist13

THIS IS FOR @kaana-the-ace-witch idk who else to tag for the secret santa thing but UR THE MOST IMPORTANT GOTTA MAKE SURE U SEE THIS

Logan wasn’t a forgetful person. He kept a very specific itinerary, thank you very much, and it was color coded (no, it wasn’t a bullet journal, Roman) for easy reading. Really, nothing could go wrong, if he followed the schedule.

But when Virgil said, “Oh, hey, we’re going over to Pat and Ro’s room for Christmas tomorrow morning, Pat said they’re putting together a huge breakfast,” at eleven thirty pm on December twenty-fourth, Logan felt like a bucket of ice water dumped down his back and trickled through his veins.

“O-oh, alright,” Logan said, like his world hadn’t just fallen apart at the seams.

“You good?” Virgil asked, eyes flicking from the TV displaying Uncharted IV to Logan’s face.

“Peachy,” Logan said. He abruptly stood. “I’m going to turn in. Goodnight.”

“Um, okay, Logan–” Virgil paused the game to face him fully. “Are you sure you’re okay–”

Virgil blinked at the empty room, eyes narrowing. Had he just seen the front door closing, or was that just his imagination?

The sounds from the television drew him back to the screen and Virgil settled back down. If something horrible was going on, Logan would give him at least some sort of warning. Maybe he just forgot sleep existed, and being reminded of the next day’s activities sparked that well-known responsibility.

Virgil shrugged, ate some chips, and unpaused the game.

Logan, meanwhile, was struggling to suppress the growing panic in his chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Logan chastised himself, rubbing his gloves together, breaths making little puffs of white in the cold air. What would still be open? Walmart? Probably? For those as irresponsible and foolish as he?

Logan couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe himself. How could he forget – no, how could he neglect to receive any form of gift for the gift-giving season? Hell, he gave Virgil a Hanukkah gift on the first and last day, with Patton and Roman filling the days in between.

Not a single gift. Not for Roman, not for Virgil, and most importantly, not for Patton.

Undoubtedly Patton had gotten him the best, most thoughtful gift he could think of. What if he spent hours and hours focusing on his gift, only to be presented with a last-minute dump of a present? Logan could hardly live with himself. He simply couldn’t believe...

Walmart wouldn’t have a decent gift. It would be picked clean. Could he buy something of worth before tomorrow?

Maybe he had something at his parents house? But that was three hours away, he would get little to no sleep on a gamble. He couldn’t call Roman, he would tell Patton – they lived together, after all – and if he didn’t intentionally tell him, Patton would figure it out – he was much smarter than he let on. Plus, Roman would just have to be overly dramatic – “I can’t believe you forgot to gift the most wonderful human being, me, with a present! The audacity!”

He couldn’t tell Virgil, Virgil was... Virgil. Virgil didn’t need any added stress in his life, he’d finally relaxed, and Logan knew how empathetic Virgil was. Virgil would definitely get himself all wrapped up in Logan’s issues and ramp up his own stress in the process. Logan couldn’t – wouldn’t – do that to him.

And obviously Logan couldn’t tell Patton. Never. Logan was well aware of his shortcomings as a friend, and expressing love was definitely fell into the “needs work” category. Patton... Patton was the best friend anyone could ever have, and Logan couldn’t stomach presenting his failures to Patton, let alone deal with his “it’s okay, Logan. No, really, don’t worry about it!” Mostly because Logan wanted to be a good friend, he wanted to be the best friend anyone could ever have but it was so hard, none of it came naturally to him.

Logan walked through the park to reach downtown, but paused when a figure slide across the pond, the metal of their skates glinting in the moonlight. They slid over to the edge of the pond, mere feet from where Logan had paused.

“Whatcha doing out this late on Christmas Eve?” they asked, their voice gravely but soothing.

“Finding a gift,” Logan said, the words falling unbidden from his lips. He shoved his hands further into his pockets, fighting the urge to defend himself with I swear I love them, I’m just foolish, please don’t think I’m some deadbeat...

“Ah. Forget?” they said, eyes shining with the reflection of the snow. Logan supposed their eyes must be a lighter color, maybe blue or green. Wrinkles lined their cheeks, or what Logan could see of them. “Or did someone finally convince you?”

Logan scrunched up his nose. “I forgot. I have no idea what to get them.”

“More than one person?” they asked.

“Yeah,” Logan released a puff of air, frustrated. “I can’t think of anything for any of them. It’s too late.”

“It’s never too late,” they said. Their skates touched the snow and they walked, gait smooth despite the blades on their feet, and approached a bench.

“What about you?” Logan asked. “What are you doing out so late?”

“It was a tradition of my daughter and mine to ice skate on the Eve,” they said, lowing themselves onto the bench with an oof. They patted the spot next to them. “Humor an old man for a few minutes?”

Logan nodded once, twice, and then delicately sat next to him. The man sighed. “She was gorgeous, my daughter. Hair was always chopped short, the sharpest eyes you’d ever seen.”

“What happened to her?” Logan asked.

“Cancer,” the old man said, smiling softly. “Hated wearing wigs, so she never did.”

There was a beat of silence, and Logan had no idea what to say. I’m sorry for your loss?

“What about your gifts?” the man asked. “Who did you forget?”

“My best friends,” Logan said, that twinge of frustration twisting in his gut. “All three of them.”

“Tell me about them,” the man said. “While I rest my old feet.”

“Okay,” Logan said, taking his hands out of his pockets to rub them together. “Um, one of them is as quiet as the night, and he’s insanely clever while being obscenely obtuse at the same time. He loves to write... and another is loud, loud as the sun and just as bright, and he doesn’t like to be called a nerd, but...” Logan’s lip twisted. “And then there’s... well. He’s like... he’s... inexplicable. He’s smart, so smart, but in every way I’m not. He could make friends with just about anyone, and he cares, so much, about everything.”

“Ah,” the man said softly. “They sound wonderful.”

“They are,” Logan said, the words landing woeful instead of wistful. “And I can never live up to that. I can never give the best gift...”

“Well, I might have a little something for the first friend of yours,” the old man said, fishing through his pocket. He pulled out a small colored pencil set, with five colors – red, yellow, blue, black, and white. “Of course, it doesn’t seem like much at first glance.”

“Oh, I... I can’t take this,” Logan said. “Um, it’s yours, and it looks... important.”

“Oh, everything has its own importance,” the man said.

“Also...” Logan frowned at his hands, not wanting to burst the man’s bubble. “I think Roman is getting him prismacolors for Christmas. It would pale in comparison.”

“Oh, but this isn’t any regular old pencil set,” the man said. “It’s magic.”

Logan snorted softly, holding the pencil set carefully. The cardboard was worn and didn’t seem to have any brand logo on it. They were obviously used but still had a good amount of lead left, and Logan couldn’t figure out why he loved them so much.

“Magic, hm?” Logan turned the pencil set over in his hand. “What’s so magic about–”

Logan blinked at thin air, lips parted. He tentatively reached out and touched the wood, furrowing his eyebrows and frowning.

Where...

He looked back at the pencil set in his hand and pocketed it, standing slowly. The world felt off-kilter, like he’d just woken up, and a street light flickered.

“Okay,” Logan murmured to himself. “Maybe you just blacked out and missed the goodbyes. That’s fine. That’s normal.”

He started walking down the path, fingers running over the small, angular box. Weird...

He almost tripped on something, catching himself just before hitting the hard concrete.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry!” a tinny voice cried out, a small girl appearing in his line of sight and picking up a wooden ball. She cradled it to her chest, curly brown hair framing her face.

“Uh, hello,” Logan said, rigid. He did not know how to handle kids. “Um, what’s your name?”

“My name?” the girl cocked her head. “What are you doing out so late?”

Winded, Logan took a breath. “What are you doing out so late?”

“Waiting for my Gran,” she said. “She’ll be here soon.”

“Okay,” Logan said uncertainly.

“She really loves me,” the girl continued. “I love her, too, but sometimes I feel like I’m invisible. Do you feel invisible sometimes? I do. It’s her birthday next week and I don’t know what to get her. What do you get your friends for their birthdays?”

“I... don’t know,” Logan said. “I’m trying to find Christmas gifts for them right now.”

“Right now?” the girl cocked her head to the side. “Okay. Can you find them?”

Logan shook his head. “Not very well.”

“What are they like?” the girl asked, expression open and vibrant.

“Um.” Logan cleared his throat, feeling an odd sense of deja vu. “One cares so much about everything but pretends he cares about nothing, another is passionate and vigorous, and he does everything all or nothing. The last is... he’s... he’s like a blanket, or the smell of baking cookies, and he’s so talented at so many things I don’t think I can live up, sometimes...”

Logan’s throat closed and he settled his gaze on the ground. Why... how... where did all that come from?

“Oh!” she said, delighted. “I have something for your second friend!”

“What?” Logan said, barely managing to get the word out before she shoved the ball into his hands. Smooth, round, with chipped red paint... it didn’t look like much.

“I can’t take this,” Logan protested. “This is yours!”

“But it’s magic,” she said sagely, voice whisper-quiet, lips stretched into a secretive grin. “Touch it, and all your wildest dreams come true!” She wiggled her fingers, making small explosion noises with her mouth.

“Um,” Logan twisted the ball in his hands. “Like a magic eight ball?”

“A magic eight ball?” she repeated. “What’s a magic – oh!” her eyes widened comically, gaze darting around her body. “Oh, oh!”

“What’s wrong?” Logan looked around him, searching for danger. “What’s...”

Logan froze. “Where’d...” he said into empty air, cold and sharp. “But...” he looked at the wooden ball, feeling the grooves and chips against his fingertips.

He pocketed the ball and slowly got to his feet, stretching his fingers and rolling his wrists. Everything seemed... off. Off in an indescribable way.

Okay, he told himself. Get to walmart, find something for your friends. Or... he ran his fingers over the pencil set, over the wooden sphere. For Patton...?

Logan shoved his hands deep into his pockets and continued on, keeping his gaze on the ground so he didn’t see any ice skating men or little girls with wooden toys. He had to keep staring at the path, get to walmart, maybe buy and obscene amount of candy to cover up his complete and utter incompetence.

“Hey!”

Logan flinched. He didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to see someone else, didn’t want to –

“Hey!” a rough hand pushed at his shoulder and he almost fell over, slipping on ice only for the same hand to catch his arm, whirl him around and spin him upright again.

Logan heaved a few breaths, eyes wide as he stared into golden brown eyes.

“What’s a guy gotta do to get someone’s attention, huh?” he said. He released his hold on Logan, crossing his arms and scrunching up his nose. He appeared the same age as Logan, maybe even younger, but...

“You’re in college, right?” he said, voice sharp and snarky.

“Yeah,” Logan said. “You?”

The guy shrugged. “Never made it out of highschool.”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “What...?”

He glanced at him, and unreadable expression in his face. “Why’re you out here, man? You look like you got friends. It’s like, midnight.”

“I forgot to get them gifts, so,” Logan shrugged. “I’m getting them some.”

“Wow,” he laughed, raucous and loud. “That’s awesome. Great. Fantastic. You sound like the most wonderful friend of all.”

“Yeah, I know,” Logan said. “I gotta get to it, so...”

“Wait,” he said, reaching out but drawing back at the last moment, fingers curling in. “I... kinda know what that’s like.” He scuffed at the ground. “Not knowing what to get friends, I mean. Or...” his face twisted. “Boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends?” Logan said, blinking.

“Hold onto them,” the boy said, glancing at him and trapping him in his gaze, eyes blazing like fire. “Hold onto your friends because one day you’ll disappear.”

“You mean they’ll disappear?” Logan said, leaning back.

“Y... yeah, of course,” he said, pulling away and leaning against a tree. “Sure.”

“Um, I’ll be...”

“Wait, just...” he sighed, looking far more dejected than any teenager had business being. “Tell me about them? I miss having friends.”

“Okay, well...” Logan almost denied his request but after seeing his downcast gaze, his frustrated scuffing, he relented. “One is... one is soft and sharp at the same time, one is angry and freakishly patient, and the last is... he’s, just, he’s clever and thoughtful, and he tries so so hard to help other people but he forgets to care for himself, too, and we forget to care for him sometimes...” Logan snapped his mouth shut. Why oh why did he always start to ramble about them?

The boy’s mouth flickered into a smile before he schooled it back into a scowl. “Yeah, okay. I think I got something for the last one.”

“What are you talking about?” Logan asked, reaching into his pockets in confusion. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“It never matters if you want anything, does it?” the boy said. “Not now, anyway. This is about them.”

“I... yeah,” Logan said. “But...”

“Okay, let’s just get this over with,” he sighed and reached into his sweatshirt pocket, pulling out a gilded bracelet. “This... yeah, whatever, you’ve heard it all, yadda yadda.”

“What?” Logan said, feeling winded.

The boy shoved the bracelet in his hands. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“I’m not, I’m just...” Logan looked down at the bracelet, a golden chain with small leaves hanging off like a mini flower crown. With... leaves instead of flowers. So not really a flower crown more of a leaf crown and Logan should really, really stop thinking.

“Thanks,” Logan said, looking up. He took a step back at the complete emptiness that greeted him, but he wasn’t completely surprised, either. Somehow he knew the teenage boy would disappear, just like the old man and the little girl.

“Thanks,” Logan said again, softer. He gently placed the bracelet with his other three gifts and turned around. Undoubtedly they would be disappointed with his gifts and would have that “thanks...” tone, of subtle disappointment, but Logan couldn’t bring himself to take a trip to some capitalist department store to grab some cheap gimmick.

They would be disappointed, but at least they wouldn’t be disappointed in a cheap car charger.

He trudged home, watching his step. He heard the giggle of a girl but saw nothing when he turned, and he noticed a figure moving across the pond but when he raced through the path to the edge there was nobody there. A scoff followed him home, and Logan carefully opened the door to his dorm, peaking to see if Virgil was still awake.

Bright lights spilled across the carpet, the intro screen to Uncharted IV dancing across Virgil’s face. Virgil, however, was dead asleep, mouth hanging open and light snores falling from his mouth.

Reaching down, Logan carefully picked him up and carried him to his room, gently setting him down on the mattress and pulling the comforter. Come morning, Logan would have to drag him out of bed, and Virgil would hang off of him until they got to Roman and Patton’s room, where he would promptly hang off of Roman for the better part of the morning.

But until then... Logan had some gifts to wrap.

—

“Okay, I know I sounded like, hella ungrateful when I opened those pencils, but they’re magical or some shit, I swear to god,” Virgil said the moment Logan opened the door.

Logan froze, halfway through taking off his coat and shoes. “Oh?”

“Yeah, like,” Virgil waved around the black pencil emphatically. “I always get the color I’m trying to blend! And I used to hate coloring with colored pencil because it’s not like acrylic paints where you can test the color before blending so I always hated using colored pencils but these work like god herself crafted them.”

“Um, I’m glad,” Logan said, a grin twitching onto his lips. “I’m... I’m really glad.”

“Yes, bless these freakish colored pencils,” Virgil said reverently. “Also, Roman called me, he’s looking for you.”

“Why didn’t he just call me?” Logan asked. Virgil gave him a look. “Right, okay, he didn’t just call about me. Thanks.”

“Sure,” Virgil said, chewing on the back of the red pencil.

Logan finagled his phone out of his pocket, dropping some books on the counter in the process, and called Roman. He picked up on the third ring.

“Logan, my favorite person in the entirety of the world!” Roman greeted him.

“What do you want?” Logan asked flatly, holding the phone up with his ear and flipping open his chemistry book.

“You wound me,” Roman declared. “Insinuating I only call when I need something, that’s cruel.”

“Mmhmm,” Logan said.

“I just... wanted to let you know, or, I mean,” Roman’s voice lost the exuberance and settled into something softer. “Thanks for that wooden ball thing. Like, I thought it was the lamest thing at first, because, a wooden ball, really? But every time I’m nervous for an audition, or I don’t think I’m going to pass a test, I just... wish on it, like you told me to, and it’s like all my hard work pays off. It’s weird and there’s probably no correlation but it happens too often to be normal so I thought I’d just... thank you.”

“Oh,” Logan said. His phone almost slipped from his shoulder but he caught it before it fell too far. “Um, that’s... that’s crazy. I mean–”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Roman said, voice slipping into ramble mode. “I mean, it’s crazy, right? It shouldn’t matter, because it’s a wooden sphere, like one I could buy at Hobby Lobby, and the paint is chipped in lots of places like my mom painted it when she was seven or something, and–”

“Roman,” Logan said.

“But it’s really very great,” Roman said softly. “Thank you. And sorry for being a jerk on Christmas.”

“You weren’t a jerk, Roman,” Logan said. “Trust me. I know when you’re being a jerk.”

“Okay,” Roman said, uncertainly.

“And, you’re welcome, I’m glad it’s working so well,” Logan said, flashing back to the little girl. Your wildest dreams will come true indeed.

“Oh, and Patton’s at Crimson Valley, you should go say hi,” Roman said. “He mentioned thanking you for his gift, too, but wanted to do it in person. Said it’s more authentic?”

“O-oh, okay,” Logan said. He sat still for a few solid moments. “I mean, I was going to start studying.”

“Dude, we don’t have school, what are you doing,” Roman said, words edged with disbelief.

“I’m behind on some stuff,” Logan said, running his hands through his hair. “And I don’t want to fall behind.”

“Do you want Patton to be alone at the cafe?” Roman asked, and they both knew Logan’s answer before Logan opened his mouth.

“Of course not,” Logan said. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“Yayy!!” Roman said. “I mean, I’m not going to be there, but Patton’ll be happy.”

“I’m sure,” Logan said, sighing. “Okay, talk to you later.”

“Bye!” Roman cheered. For what, Logan couldn’t say.

The phone clicked underneath his ear and Logan resigned himself.

“I’m going out,” Logan said.

“Again?” Virgil asked.

“Yup, Patton’s alone at a cafe,” Logan said. “Roman enlisted me to keep him company.”

“Sounds like Roman,” Virgil said. “Good luck.”

“Good luck?” Logan repeated. “I’m not going into war.”

Virgil turned towards him, shifting his whole body so he could give Logan another look.

Logan rolled his eyes, shrugging his coat on. “Fair point.”

“See ya.”

“Bye.”

Logan walked steadily to the cafe, and braced himself the moment he opened the door. When he wasn’t instantly barraged by an armful of Patton, he opened his eyes.

Patton, tucked into a corner of the cafe, was quiet.

Logan walked up to him and slid into the seat opposite him. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey!” Patton said, expression instantly shifting from pensive to happy. “How are you? I wasn’t expecting you here!”

“Roman told me to come,” Logan said, and then instantly regretted it. “Um. He said something about my christmas present...?”

“Oh, this!” Patton said, lifting up his wrist to display the glittering bracelet. “I... the weirdest thing happens when I touch it. I’m just overwhelmed with this... this affection and wonder for everything, especially my friends.” Patton stared him dead in the eye. “Especially for you.”

Heat rushed to his cheeks and Logan stared pointedly at the table.

“And it’s so magical, and wonderful, that I thought I’d let you know,” Patton said, smile gentle and soft.

Logan glanced up at him, ears hot, and noted the pink dusting on Patton’s cheeks.

“Um, you’re, you’re welcome,” Logan said, coughing.

“It’s so strange,” Patton said. “All of your gifts seem so simple, but they have such a large impact.” He held the bracelet up to the light and admired the way the gold glittered in the sun. “Where did you find them?”

Logan smiled. From an old man with nostalgia, a little girl with wishes, and a teenager with hopes.

“I found them on Christmas Eve,” Logan said instead, and when Patton turned to look at him, the light shone through the window and ignited the deep browns and golds of his irises.

Something crashed, and they looked to the left. A little girl frowned at a shattered cup but laughed when someone who looked like her grandfather gave her candy and promised her another cup. A teenager rocked on his chair, pressing his feet against the table and scowling.

Patton blinked at them and giggled before turning back to Logan.

“I’m glad you love it,” Logan murmured, touching the gold of the bracelet lightly.

Patton smiled, cheeks red, and Logan grinned right back.