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magicbystarlight · 8 months

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Before I Knew You - Part Ten

Bill Weasley x Reader

Masterlist, Part One

Thank you for reading, I love seeing the comments and appreciation for this story ❤️

Summary: You’ve spent years training under Madam Pomfrey in the hopes that you would join the Healers at St. Mungo’s at graduation. But in the aftermath of the death of Albus Dumbledore, you chose to join the Order instead. When you’re forced into hiding, you find yourself alone with Bill Weasley and his new wolfish tendencies.

Word Count: 4,037

Warnings: 18+, typical canon warnings, sprinkle in some miscommunication, age gap, questionable ethics from a medical professional. Minors DNI.

The ocean was louder than you remembered. Colder too.

Wet sand sank under your feet with each step, waves erasing the prints you left behind. The paper that morning had read August 30th. A month since the wedding. Six weeks since the farm. A little more than two months since the Death Eaters’ attack on Hogwarts. Eight months since you'd last seen your parents. A year since you’d kissed Cillian goodbye thinking there was a future together. Somehow that seemed too short a time for everything that had happened. All that'd you'd lost.

It had been easy to compartmentalize. Push it away and focus on anything else. But the holes were there. You missed the Cillian you'd known. You missed your parents and their excited, encouraging smiles. You missed Madam Pomfrey's complete trust in you and your abilities. You missed the days when you thought you had any control of tomorrow.

Three years working the Hospital Wing, two more being its frequent volunteer. All in hopes of a job at St. Mungos. You’d gotten it. A spot in the Janus Thickey Ward working with patients with spell damaged minds. The decision to walk away from it had been easy. You were no longer safe, yes, but that wasn’t why.

You could still remember his blood on your hands. The panic in Madam Pomfrey’s usually calm movements. His eyes finally opening, blue in a sea of red, and his hand gripping your wrist. He’d mumbled something. Impossible to understand. But he was alive and there was hope. He would live. Scarred and straddled with symptoms of an unknown severity, but there had been hope he could live his life mostly as he always had. Then Fleur had fled.

All he'd gotten was a letter. All you'd given Cillian was a letter. She’d sent back a ring, you’d sent back a bracelet. Maybe not the same, but they were kindred sentiments. And it was devastating to destroy something that in another time would have been forever.

The sand shifted as you sat. No wonder Bill hated the idea of you leaving. No wonder you had such a hard time actually wanting to leave. It was ironic how well matched you were. Poetic even. You his stand in for Fleur and he yours for Cillian. He could make you stay and you could stay. He wanted to protect people and you wanted to heal them.

But he wasn't Cillian and you weren't Fleur and this wasn't a relationship. This was two traumatized people trapped together in a war trying to keep each other alive.

High tide came while you watched the moon's reflection ripple in the water. The ocean couldn't combat the forces of the moon. How could you?

—

Bill sat, head in his hands, at the table when you returned to the cottage. Waiting.

"Thought you went to bed."

He looked up. Gods it wasn’t fair when he looked at you like that. Like he was relieved to see you. "Yeah, yeah I did, but I heard the door and I thought…”

He didn’t finish the thought. You had to look away. His sad eyes were for someone else. “I needed some air.” Had you looked like that when he left? Maybe the first night. Much worse the other three. "I wouldn't walk out on you." Not like he did.

"Right," was all he had to say.

Maybe you should have left.

"I'm off to bed then." You hadn't made it two steps before he pleaded for you to wait.

"Can we talk?"

It was too much. Your emotions were still raw, bleeding and blistering from the scab you’d picked away. It hurt. You were hurting. And he only cared because he thought you were going to leave. Gods, why did that make it worse?

"I don't fucking know Bill, can we? Cause I’ve tried. But every time you leave. Or we say ‘tomorrow’. But there’s never been a tomorrow, has there?” You couldn't look at him. If you did, you'd break. "I'm exhausted with this back and forth. Trying to manage being your Healer who understands how difficult this has been for you and being your friend who doesn't understand why you won't let me help you." You could hear him move, but you kept your gaze fixed on the stairs. "I can't keep doing this, having this same conversation with you. I know it's a lot, I get it, I do, but I'm terrfied I'm going to watch you die in this fucking cottage because your ego is too fucking big to let someone take care of you." He was standing right behind you. You could step back, let his arms wrap around you.

"I had nightmares." It was a fragile confession. An admission he didn't want to give. "Every night after that first one in the Hospital Wing. They always changed, but it was mostly just Greyback and Death Eaters coming after the people I cared about. Every night. Except the night Mad-Eye died. I thought maybe it was because I lived it that night, because they came back. And then we came here and it was so…peaceful. I just slept. Until I fucked everything up and left. The only night since then that I haven't dreamed of death and blood is the night I came back."

"You should have told me."

"What was I supposed to say? Sleep with me so I don't have bad dreams?"

You spun, shoving your finger into his chest. "And there's that fucking ego, Bill." "Ego? You think this has all been about my ego?"

"I know tonight was."

He started to say something, reconsidered, and said instead, "Alright you got me there. But, but, wait, please," he grabbed your hand as you'd begun to turn away again. "Think about this from my perspective, yeah? You’ve made it abundantly clear that you would do whatever it takes to make me feel even an ounce of relief.”

“Of course I would.”

“And don’t you see the problem with that? If I’d told you in the beginning that I needed to sleep with you and needed to fuck you, you’d have done it.”

“It would've taken me a bit to come around to it," maybe not as long as you'd like to admit, "but yeah. Yeah, I would have.”

“But not because you would have wanted to.”

He was wrong, but it only made you feel worse. “Do you realize how unethical it is for me to want to fuck you, Bill? It goes against everything I’m supposed to be as your Healer. You don’t have control over what’s happening to you, how your body’s reacting, and I’m supposed to be helping you through it, not taking advantage of you.”

“Taking advantage of me? I’ve got almost ten years on you. These last few months have been hell for you and now—now you depend on me for almost everything. What I want is depraved." He still held your hand, now clutching it against his chest. "I'm supposed to keep you safe and instead all I can think about half the time is…Merlin, you don't need to know. And maybe, maybe I can't help that, but I never had to drag you into it." Like you knew you would, you broke. Reaching up, you cupped his face. His scruff scratched at your palm as he leaned into the touch. "You didn't drag me into anything."

"I did, didn't I? Bringing you here? I should've taken you somewhere else with someone else."

"I think you're forgetting if it wasn't for you and Remus, I'd be dead. And if you hadn't been so quick at the wedding, I'd either been caught by Death Eaters or Cillian." His grip tightened on your hand, eyes clenched shut. "We've made the best choices we can, Bill. The ones that've kept us alive."

"It doesn't feel like there's been any choices."

"Well we have a choice now. We can figure out another living situation for me, with someone else and hope that alleviates some of your symptoms. Let me finish," you said as he opened his mouth. "We can do that. Or we can ignore how complicated and unethical it is for me to stay and we do what we need to do for each other. What we want to do to each other. But only, only if let me take care of you."

"So you do want me?" "Bill Weasley, did you hear any other words I said?"

His hand took hold of your waist, pulling you closer. "Every one of 'em. I'll let you run any test, answer any question, poke and prod whatever you need, follow every instruction you give. Promise. Just stay with me."

"I'm not doing this again. I won't have this conversation a third—" you paused and corrected, "a fourth time. If you can't—"

"We won't." His grip tightened, forehead pressing against yours. "We'll do it your way."

"Okay. Good." He felt so warm. "Maybe we should get to bed?"

“Yeah.”

“Together, right?”

“I do need you to keep away the bad dreams,” he mused before sweeping you into his arms. His amused chuckle as you questioned how he kept picking you up so effortlessly left you feeling breathless. “You’re light as a feather, love.”

It was only a few minutes later that he was breathing evenly beneath you in the small bed upstairs, an arm draped around your waist. He wasn't Cillian. You weren't Fleur. This wasn't a relationship. For now though, this was enough. One day it wouldn't be, but you closed your eyes and slept.

—

Nothing could have made you leave bed. It smelled too good, felt too warm. After weeks of terrible sleep, it was heaven. From Bill's steady breath against your hair, it seemed he wouldn't crawl out of bed anytime soon either.

Almost nothing could have made you leave bed.

Nothing but a loud pop, followed closely by another.

You were jinxed. You had to be. It was the only explanation for a Weasley horde popping into existence so early in the morning with Bill still wrapped around you in bed. Bill's wide-eyed terror mirrored your own as the shrill voice of Molly shrieked at the familiar laughter of Fred, George, and Ginny.

"...to Diagon Alley! Alone! To think I trusted you boys with her!"

"It was a quick stop," one of the twins insisted as you both fell out of bed and scrambled down the stairs. "Needed to grab something from the shop," said the other.

"And no one even saw me!” Ginny added.

“But what if they had! Don’t you think it would have raised a very dangerous question of exactly how you’d appeared there when no one saw you leave the Burrow? Hmm? They think they're watching our every move! We cannot have them question that!”

Five heads of fiery red hair came into view of the windows causing your own to whip around the house in case anything screamed, “We had sex last night!” Bill seemed to do the same. He dove for something on the floor that you couldn’t see from the table. He managed to straighten up just before the door burst open.

Fred—you knew it was him because he had both his ears—was the first of the brood to come through with George and Ginny close on his heels. “Mornin’ Bill! Mornin’ Gorgeous!”

“Merlin, Fred! Have no manners stuck in that head of yours?” Molly gripped as she followed. She turned from her son and fixed you with a softer, apologetic look. “Sorry dear. We didn’t mean to burst in."

"Oh, we most certainly did," Fred countered as he made his way to you and threw an arm around your shoulders. George added, mirroring his twin, “We were hoping to catch you two doing something naughty.”

"That's it! Both of you, back to the Burrow!"

Whining shouts of protests came from the three younger Weasley siblings as you were released. “It was a joke!” “Can’t anyone have a good laugh these days?” "But it's my last day!"All you could do was hope that nothing in your face gave away the very naughty things they'd have caught you doing if they'd come by the night before.

As the argument continued, Arthur took the opportunity to break away. He approached Bill, his expression markedly more subdued than the others. He whispered something into his son's ear. Bill's gaze flitted to you—in worry? Horror? Embarrassment? Oh gods, did Arthur know? Did they all know? An uncomfortable bubbling in your stomach grew as the two disappeared into the bedroom Kingsley had occupied the day before.

“One more toe out of line and I will send you back, do you hear me?”

Your gaze snapped back to the others. No. They didn’t know. Fred and George would certainly never let you live it down if they’d known. Molly would not be looking at you with any kindness if she thought you’d taken advantage of her son. And Ginny… you didn’t want to know what she would do. You’d seen the aftermath of her hexes.

"Now outside. The three of you."

Ginny gave you a small wave as she followed her brothers outside. Definitely didn’t know.

"Again, very sorry dear," Molly said kindly. “It was just supposed to be Arthur popping over, but Ginny overheard and well, she heads off to Hogwarts tomorrow and she’s been wanting to come.”

“Of course, yeah—yeah. I think Bill mentioned he wanted to have everyone over. Before, you know, Kingsley and all that. Something about fighting chickens?”

“Chicken Fight. The kids do love that game.”

“Right, yeah. So, um, has something happened?” Your fingers picked at your lip as you nodded towards the bedroom. “You know, since Arthur was coming by.”

Molly hesitated before giving a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Just normal Order business. Nothing to fret about.”

When you'd gone off to the farm, you hadn't really thought about bringing along a swimsuit. Molly, the ever prepared mother, had brought along an extra one-size-fits-all swimsuit for you. So you spent hours on the sand and in the water with the Weasleys doing your best to act like everything was completely and utterly fine.

Like you weren’t worried about what had happened between you and Bill the night before, or worried for his health, or worried about what that horrified look meant, or worried about Ginny going to Hogwarts the next day, or worried if Kingsley was alright, or worried if someone else was going to show up on the verge of death again.

You were fine.

Completely and utterly fine.

“You alright?” Fred asked as he sat next to you on one of the towels. His hair still dripped, his siblings continuing to toss around a Quaffle in the water.

You gave your best attempt at a smile as you pulled your knees tighter against your chest. “Yeah, of course.” You'd never been good at acting.

“Really?”he asked with a raised brow and skeptical tone. "Cause I don't think I've seen you crack a smile at all today."

Resting your chin on your arm, you watched Bill get tackled and dragged down into the waves by Ginny and George. Arthur was passed out a few feet away turning a shade that would rival his hair and Molly was sitting peacefully under an umbrella reading. Bill and Arthur had come out of the room like nothing had happened. Joking, playing, teasing with their family with an uncomfortable force. They wanted everyone distracted for the day.

"Maybe not alright. I'm worried about Ginny and all the other kids going off to a castle crawling with Death Eaters," you conceded. A half-truth. It would be Madam Pomfrey's first time completely alone in the Hospital Wing after three years of your help. She didn't need you, of course, she was more than capable of doing her job before you'd even been thought into existence. But you could imagine this year would be more of a strain than any other she'd experienced.

More than the year He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named hid behind the turban of Qurrial.

More than the year the Chamber of Secrets opened and petrified Muggleborns.

More than the year dementors roamed the grounds.

More than the year of the Triwizard Tournament.

More than the year Dolores Umbridge tortured kids in detention.

Even more than the last year that ended with Death Eaters storming the castle.

“We’re all worried,” he said, shielding his face from his siblings to hide his frown. “I—I tried to talk her out of going. Told her we wouldn’t mind going into hiding. But she’s stubborn.”

“Stubborn is a famous Weasley trait, isn't it?” It was meant as a joke, but it came out too dry. If there was anything you knew it was how stubborn a Weasley could be.

“Suppose it is.” He laughed softly as his sister ramed her shoulder into George's side, sending him toppling into the water. "Can you do me a favor?"

You side eyed him, knowing not to trust anything he asked of you. You'd seen plenty of people in the Hospital Wing after doing favors for him and George.

"Forget about it all for a few hours. Try to enjoy what's left of today." You looked back to the water. George and Ginny squabbled over the Quaffle. Bill was standing to the side, his face turned towards where you sat at the beach. "If not for yourself, then for Ginny."

Fred stood then, sand sticking to his trunks. Extending his hand, he smiled expectantly. "Let's go challenge Ginny and George to a chicken fight, yeah?"

Your response was automatic. "George is not cleared to have that sort of pressure on his ear."

"He's totally fine though!"

You scoffed, finally taking his hand to stand. "He is not! He has a hole where his ear should be."

"Oh, come on, love," he said, watching as you dusted sand off yourself, "can't we be a bit ear-responsible today?"

A smile fought to take hold of your lips and you had to look away from his triumphant gleam. "No George. But Bill did promise me a game."

"Oh, Ginny'll be stoked about that." He took your hand again, dragging you into the cold water. "Oy, you lot! Time for a good ole' game of chicken fight, yeah?" George cheered. "Not you though, Georgie Boy. Our little healer says you've got to sit this one out." George booed.

"She's with me," Bill said, nodding at you.

Fred tugged you closer, throwing an arm over your shoulders. "Fat chance on that, mate!"

"Does no one want me as their partner?" Ginny pouted. She didn't seem very serious, but it was enough for Bill to concede. It wasn't enough, however, to keep him from warning his brother that one inappropriate joke would end up with him sent back to the Burrow. Fred's promise of good behavior did little to soften the eldest's irritation.

He was jealous.

Ridiculously jealous.

Ginny suffered for it. What should have been an easy win for her, turned into a struggle with Bill constantly losing balance in the waves sending them both crashing down with the slightest push. Ginny still managed to bring you down a few times, but Fred was steady on his feet. It was Ginny, pushing hair and water out of her face as she stood back up again, who suggested a partner change.

Fred was reluctant to let you go. Didn't the two of you make an excellent team, after all? But you worried Bill might snap, the blue in his eyes barely visible with how wide his pupils had grown.

"It's just a game," you reminded him lowly before he knelt down in shallow water to let you climb on. He gave no response beyond a content hum when your thighs pressed against his face. This time it was Bill who suffered. More so than Ginny had. How, exactly, were you supposed to focus on a game when his hands were on you?

Fred took the wins with all the modesty of a Gryffindor. His boasting you could handle, but his attention focusing on you, trying to flirt like he always would was detrimental to Bill’s health. And his.

It was Molly’s fretting over George getting sand in his ear that gave a perfect excuse to ease the tension. Physicals. Everyone needed one. See how George's ear had been healing, check no one had come under the Imperius Curse. It’s what you were supposed to do in the morning with Bill, anyways. One by one you examined the Weasley's in the room you'd occupied upstairs. Molly was the first, voicing her concerns over each of the others. Arthur came next. He was silent, only answering questions asked. Then it was Ginny. She cried. She'd tried not to, but she was sixteen and the world had fallen apart around her. A small drop of Essence of Dittany cleared up the redness in her eyes before she returned to her family. Fred and George were together, amusing themselves with their banter.

And last was Bill. The door hadn't been shut more than a second before you were pressed against it.

"It's all in my head." His kiss was soft, but desperate. "It's all in my head," he repeated against your lips. Your fingers brushed a strand of his hair back into place. "It's just Fred being Fred. He doesn't know."

"Maybe we should tell him."

You chuckled, but he didn't. "Bill."

His response was to trail kisses along your jaw.

"Bill," you said firmer, pushing lightly against his chest. "We're not telling him. Or anyone."

"Why not?"

"Because how do we explain…this?"

"We don't have to explain. We tell them we're together and that's all."

Your heart clenched. It was one thing for you to know that you were filling the voids left by the war, but for the world to see that? No one would believe you were together for anything beyond convenience and desperation. It would be easier to explain the truth. "I'm not going to lie to everyone about what this is."

He pulled back, turning away and running a hand through his hair. "Right." He plopped on the bed. "You're right. You're not going to lie to anyone that we're together when we're not. I'll keep my emotions in check."

"It's not like we're going to have people here often. We'll be alone again in a few hours."

He nodded, blinking up at you in a neutral expression. "You're right. We should get on with the physical. It's part of the deal for you staying, isn't it?"

“Fine.” You went through the motions, checking him over. He was fine, a little better than normal even. His heart rate was accelerated, but considering his day that wasn’t much of a surprise. His mood has somewhat recovered before you returned to his family, thanking you with a searing kiss.

An extra chair had been transfigured from some old driftwood to add a seventh seat at the table for dinner. Fred and George had tried to take the side with three chairs, hoping to trap someone between them. But Molly was far too used to their antics and sent them to the other side to sit by themselves. Ginny was a buffer between you and Bill, his father beside him and Molly next to you at the ends. Ginny kept you talking throughout most of the meal Molly had made, asking as discreetly as she could about healing spells.

“It was so nice to come here today,” Molly said, dabbing a napkin under her eyes. “I’m so glad you suggested it, Ginny.”

“It was lucky dad needed to come today.”

George asked, mouth full. “Why did you need to come today?” Fred, needing to be part of the conversation too, asked, “Yeah, what’d ya have to tell Bill?”

You were going to let it be a family squabble, but Arthur made the mistake of looking at you and averting his gaze too quickly. “Bill?”

“I don’t think now is the appropriate time to discuss it,” Arthur said.

Bill disagreed. “Cillian went to his office. Asking questions about you.”

Comments and reblogs make my day!

Before I Knew You Tag List: @believinghurts @frozenwisteria @maralisa124 @voiddylanobrosey @kyla-hale-blog @pearlsofme @minstens @sofrian @sheeple @alldaysdreamers @hotleaf-juice @elnmop @sweetphantomofyournoodler @itshardbeingamultistan @remuslupinscumslutt @thesecretwriter @cali-girl-in-heart @thxtmarvelchick @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @bitch-biblioklept @unstableyetloveable @psamathegoesrawr @camelliaflow3r @undeniablyyou @luciferismybabe @luvrsbian @pink-hufflepuff @queen-of-elves @bountydroid @solkee @m-rae23 @queenofbeingdepressed @smolmexicangirl @manzanosstuff @hungrhay @mae-foster @seb-buckybarnes @idga-fudgeicle

HP Tag List: @bamboozledflamplant @charmingandfantasticfics @discogrrl @squishytomatoes @benonlinear @byelannie @itsccc @bluegiraffeplushie e @pancakefancake

#bill weasley x reader #bill weasley x you #bill weasley #bill weasley x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #before i knew you

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echo-goes-mmm · 13 days

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Kitty Elliot AU #2

Masterpost

Warnings: past abuse

The catboy ate with gusto, and Ambrose prayed he wouldn’t get sick from eating so much so soon.

He looked filthy, dust and dirt and bruises. His hair looked gray and matted, and from a glance Ambrose could see his underwear was practically hanging off of him.

“Do you have a name?” he asked.

The catboy paused in the middle of drinking, his tongue peeking out before disappearing.

The young man stared at Ambrose, unblinking. His mouth opened and closed silently before shaking his head. He went back to the water.

“My name is Ambrose,” he said. “Is there something I can call you?”

The catboy glanced up and blinked in confusion.

“Uh- I could make something up?” the young man lifted a shoulder in a shrug before resuming eating.

Ambrose’s mind worked, trying to come up with a list of names. Alex, Conner, Jason, Max, Elliot, Felix.

“How about Max?” No response. “Conner?” Nope. “Elliot?”

The catboy looked up, licking a stray drop from his lip. He opened his mouth and closed it again, a faint squeak from the back of his throat.

Hardly a sound, barely a meow, but it would do.

“You like Elliot?” The catboy nodded before going after the bread on the plate.

Ambrose watched Elliot finish eating. The fruit was gone, but Elliot had made a face when he ate it. Clearly not a favorite item, but he probably couldn’t afford to be picky. Ambrose made a mental note not to give him fruit.

Elliot didn’t seem to know what to do with himself now that the food was all gone. He just stared at Ambrose, still crouched on the floor. His hands and feet were under him, as if he thought he might need to pounce or run.

Ambrose rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly awkward. Elliot’s eyes followed the movement.

“How about a bath? With some nice, hot water?” he offered. Elliot’s eyes glanced over to the basin and pump in the corner and back to Ambrose.

“Upstairs, I mean,” clarified Ambrose. “I have a better bathroom on my floor.”

Elliot turned and slipped back under the bed. Fair enough.

“Alright,” he said, picking up the dishes. “I’ll let you rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, I suppose.”

He washed the dishes and cleaned up before heading upstairs. Ambrose hesitated outside Elliot’s door. It was silent.

Ambrose shook his head, still in disbelief. He trudged up the staircase that led to his room.

What a day.

He lit some incense at the small altar, and told Janus about his day. A habit he never could bring himself to stop, even though it hurt.

Ambrose took a hot shower, scrubbing the day’s work off his body.

He hoped Elliot would stay for a while, or at least until he was strong enough to leave. He could use the company.

Even though he lived in a small town with plenty of people who knew him, he was still lonely.

A friend, a real one, would be welcome.

Ambrose slipped into bed and fell asleep.

___________________

He knocked on Elliot’s door after breakfast, scrambled eggs and toast in hand.

“Good morning,” he said, opening it after no response.

He caught a flash of tail disappearing under the bed. Huh. The sheets had been used; Elliot had slept in the bed, and that was progress.

“It’s just me,” he called out quietly, closing the door behind him. “I have some breakfast for you.”

Elliot’s face poked out from under the bed. Cute.

Ambrose set the plate out, a few feet from the bed. Elliot crawled out again to eat.

He still looked wary, especially with Ambrose standing instead of sitting, but food was apparently more important than fear.

His claws weren’t out, which was a concern. His fingers looked fine, so he wasn’t declawed, but the marks on his body indicated violence.

What if using his claws was beaten out of him?

Ambrose scanned his body, taking in the wounds. There were scars on his back, raised and long. Bruises were everywhere, green and sickly yellow, purple and black. A prominent one in the shape of a boot lined his side.

Ambrose wasn’t wearing shoes yet, and maybe that was why Elliot was comfortable at his feet despite the clear history of being kicked.

Ambrose crouched down, and Elliot flinched. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Have you thought more about having a bath?”

Elliot’s ears and tail twitched.

“I just think it might be nice to have a wash. Don’t you want to be a little cleaner? Maybe get your hair and fur brushed?”

Elliot hesitated before taking another bite.

“You can pick out some clothes to borrow afterwards,” he offered.

Elliot didn’t seem convinced.

Ambrose chewed the inside of his cheek. “I have some cream downstairs. You can have some after we’re done.”

Elliot’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “I promise,” Ambrose said. “You can have a whole mug.” He hoped it wouldn’t hurt his stomach, which was likely, but it was his only bargaining chip.

Elliot wiped his face with the back of his hand, nodding.

“Great. We’ll get it done after you finish eating, okay?”

Elliot went back to his eggs, and Ambrose sighed in relief.

Food, water, a bath, some clothes, he checked off in his head. Pain medication, maybe. Slave for those bruises. And we can get rid of that awful collar.

Elliot cleared his plate in a scant few minutes, looking up at Ambrose expectantly.

“Good,” he said, and he could see the bare hint of a smile on Elliot’s face.

Ambrose let them upstairs, Elliot trailing silently behind him. He began to run the hot water, checking the temperature every few minutes to make sure it wasn’t too hot.

Soon the tub was full, and Ambrose fetched a towel and washcloth for Elliot.

But when he got back to the bathroom, the catboy was gone. Ambrose set the towels aside, pushing down his panic.

“Elliot?” he called. No answer.

Shit.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em

@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings

@zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone

@snakebites-and-ink @astrokea @latenightcupsofcoffee @tobiaslut @whumpsoda

@loserwithsyle @bitchaknso @cepheusgalaxy

#hes so cute i cant <3 #once again let me know if you want to be removed from this AU taglist #whump #my writing #slavery whump #ambrose and elliot #Kitty Elliot AU #catboy whumpee #silent whumpee #pet whump

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lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie · 29 days

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Royal Promise

Summary: Or five times the twins made royal promises to each other and the one time they finally learned of its origin.

Pairings: None, BROTHERLY CREATIVITWINS

Warnings: Nightmares, slight mention of thunderstorms, angst, unintentionally u!patton and u!logan

(A/N: Fun fact the word count for this fic is 10, 792 words! My biggest word count yet!)

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For as long as they could remember, the royal promise was a special and almost sacred pact that the twins made. It was their thing that no one else had or did. They made it clear that it was special, something meant for royals or very big important promises that can’t be broken. It was a sealed deal and breaking a royal promise comes with heavy risks. The one who made the royal promise would deal physical pain to the one given the promise. So, the twins would take the royal promise very seriously. They never used it for anything small. Strangely enough, no one, not even Logan or the twins themselves knew of its origin. It’s just been their thing that they’ve had since the aftermath of the split.

Despite Remus being loud and rambunctious, he never really liked loud noises that weren’t his own. He didn’t like yelling either if wasn’t the fun kind. He hated it when the other sides started arguing and yelling. He didn’t like it when Virgil screeched or when Patton cried out in anger. He didn’t like it when Logan angrily told him off. He didn’t look like it, but Remus also hated the loud noises that thunderstorms made. Sure, he could play in the storm all he wanted but once he heard that loud bang of thunder, he’d run back in to either hide somewhere or go cling to his brother.

This is why Remus has a hate-love relationship with storms. They’re fun to play in but they’re loud and noisy and they make him think too many bad thoughts. What if lightning hits their home and catches it on fire? What if it hits Roman and he catches on fire? What if it hits Janus or Virgil? What if the thunder banged so loud his ears exploded and he can’t hear anymore? Janus had already told him those things can’t happen, but Remus’ mind isn’t exactly good at staying quiet for even five seconds.

That’s why Remus finds himself restless one night as a storm rolls in. According to Logan, this storm was going to be a big one. That meant lots of thunder and lightning. While everyone else seemed to be getting cozy for the evening, Remus was coloring on the floor while his twin brother seemed preoccupied with something else that he can’t see. Meanwhile, Janus is sat on the couch and reading his book. The heavy rain is already starting to pour outside the window.

Remus looks up from his coloring book and gazes at the window, the storm whirling and swirling with rain outside. He hopes it’s just rain and nothing more. He then glances at Roman and hums curiously. His brother had come running in with a bunch of stuff and said he was going to make something. When Remus asked to help or watch, Roman said no and that this was very important that he had to do it alone. Remus was a little hurt, but he knows Roman cares about his creations, so he let him be. He’ll probably show him later. He then huffs and sighs.

“Are you done yet, RoRo?” Remus whines, flopping onto his back.

Roman chuckles.

“Not yet, Ree.” he answers, turning to flash a quick smile at his twin.

“But you’ve been working on that—”

Lightning then flashes brightly and-

BANG!

The thunder followed, loud and almost monstrous.

Remus jolts and squeaks before running off to his and Roman’s bedroom, squirming under the bed.

Meanwhile Janus sighs and closes his book.

“Oh, Remus…”

He then climbs off the couch.

“Don’t wander off, Roman.”

“I won’t.” Roman replies without looking up.

Janus nods, curious as to what Roman is up to. He wouldn’t tell him either. For now, he makes his way to the twins’ bedroom. He opens the door and looks around the messy room they share.

There’s stuffed toys and pillows strewn on the floor by the bed. Crayons and papers filled with drawings are scattered on the desk by the window. A paper crown sits on the red chair and a big book sits on the green chair.

“Remus?” Janus calls. “Where are you, little squid?”

Rumbling thunder replies instead and Janus inches towards the bed, pausing when he hears it creak and something thump under it.

“Remus, are you under there?”

A soft whimper.

“No…”

There he is…oh dear, he sounds scared.

Janus goes over to the other side of the bed and smiles when he sees Remus’ butt sticking out from under the bed along with his wiggling feet. He sighs and crouches down.

“Boo.”

“Eep!” *thunk* “Ow!”

Janus laughs a little.

“You really are so good at hide and seek.” he teases.

Remus squirms, still trying to hide under the bed. His chubby tummy stops him going in any further though.

“I am hidden! The thunder can’t get me here if I hide!” he huffs before squeaking as the thunder rumbles again.

“Remus…you know thunder can’t hurt you indoors. You don’t have to hide.” Janus replies, tugging on his leg.

“No!” Remus squeals, yanking his leg away from Janus. “I’m hiding here until the thunder goes away!”

Janus sighs. He loves the twins, but damn are they stubborn.

“Remus…”

Then Roman comes running in.

“Janus, did you find Remus yet?” he asks, hands hidden behind his back.

Janus nods and tips his head.

“He seems determined to hide under the bed until the storm passes.” he answers, moving aside.

Roman giggles and goes around the bed, plopping on the floor.

“I thought you loved storms, Ree.” he teases, poking his twin’s leg.

“Not when they’re stupid loud.” Remus huffs.

Roman smiles sadly. He knows his twin hates loud sounds that aren’t his. There are even days when he gets overstimulated from outside noise. He then pulls out what he’d been working on behind his back.

“I have something for you. You’ll have to come out from there if you want to see it.” he says a moment later.

“For me?”

“For you.”

It takes a moment, but Remus manages to squirm out from under the bed, shaking the dust out of his messy hair. He then sits up and blinks. In front of him on Roman’s lap is a cuddle-sized, green octopus with black button eyes and a matching mustache. There are patches of red here and there on its head.

Roman grins.

“I know you don’t like storms and you don’t have a little friend with you like Mrs. Fluffybottom. So, I made one for you! Do you like him?” he hands the octopus to Remus.

Remus takes it with wide, red sparkling eyes.

“He’s…He’s so ugly!” he giggles, hugging the plushie close. “I love him!”

“Perfect! He’ll keep you safe and sound from the storm.” Roman grins.

Remus blinks at that and gazes at his new octopus friend.

“Really?”

Roman hums and nods.

“Yeah! He’s got the strength of a mighty kraken and he’s not afraid of anything!” he grins. “I promise, he’ll always protect you!”

“I dunno, RoRo…sounds like a big promise.”

Roman thinks then gasps as if he remembered something and makes a crown shape with his hands, placing it over his head.

“I royal promise then! That way, he’ll never lose strength!” he grins wider, proudly even.

“Royal promise?” Remus tilts his head.

Roman nods.

“Yeah! It’s a strong promise because I made it with my prince powers!”

As Janus hears that, he jolts for a moment. Those words…royal promise…they sound so familiar and distant at the same time. A tiny part of him curses the twins for reminding him of the past so much. He wonders how Roman even remembered that. Maybe…no. It couldn’t be. That person is long gone. Still, Janus aches. He can still see him in the twins though. He says nothing and smiles fondly at them instead.

Meanwhile, Remus finally grins as he forgets the storm.

“Okay, I believe you, RoRo.”

“Yay! What are you gonna name him, by the way?”

Remus thinks then grins wider.

“Squishyboo!”

When it came to being Creativity, the one thing the twins hated was how creative their minds got at night. Sure, they could dream of anything each night but sometimes their minds like to take the shadows from their thoughts and morph them into nightmares. Nightmares that seemed far too sick and twisted for even Remus’ already dark self. Nightmares that felt like a curse, repeating, and replaying all too vividly. Not even Roman’s creative light could save them both.

Remus’ nightmares often melded with his intrusive thoughts. The shadows would steal the darkest thoughts they could find and create an even darker dream. Dreams of desolate worlds. Dreams of war-torn kingdoms and abandoned castles. Dreams of silent rooms with colorless walls. Dreams of a lost friend and a broken family. Dreams of fallen princes and lost kings. Dreams of pain and screaming. It always led to Remus waking up with a terrified scream.

Roman’s nightmares liked to play tricks on him. Every dream would start nice and warm…but then it would slowly turn darker and darker until it became a nightmare. A warm, grassy field would slowly turn cold as the green melted away into brown. A bright castle with flickering, welcoming candles would slowly put its lights out one by one until darkness took over the whole palace. A Duke dancing about on stage would slowly grow pale until he collapsed, and the stage fell. A powerful king would slowly grow weaker and weaker until he falls apart, screaming in agony as he tears himself in half. It always left Roman waking up with a horrified sob.

Tonight isn’t any different. The twins had been put to bed by Janus as usual and were sleeping, sprawled out against each other. Due to the intensity of some of their nightmares and never wanting to be separate, they insisted on sharing a room. Janus let them, knowing how much they needed each other. Remus could hold Roman down when he’d started flailing and Roman could calm Remus down if a nightmare left him a bit lost. As Roman sleeps, his creative mind starts playing with his shadows.

Roman finds himself standing in a living room he doesn’t recognize. The living room he knows has dark grey walls with pictures of him and his brother and Janus on them. The floor he knows is a darker grey and has a soft, mustard yellow round rug in front of the tv. This living room is…bright and warm. The wallpaper is a light shade of beige, and the floor is an off-white with no rug.

He looks around and nearly jumps, seeing two figures staring back at him. He looks to his side and Remus is there, holding his hand. He seems upset. Roman doesn’t know and looks back at the figures. They seem to be talking warmly. Roman tries to step forward but finds he can’t move his legs. Oh. He swallows and looks around. He sees Janus standing by on Remus’ other side, head bowed.

“Janus?” Roman calls.

Janus looks up and Roman sees a sad, almost regretful look in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry…”

“What do you mean?”

Before Janus can say anything more, the two figures turn and step towards Roman. In the light of the living room, Patton stands with an unsettling grin, his eyes far too wide with excitement. Logan stands beside him with a blank look, dull eyes gazing at nothing. It makes Roman’s skin crawl.

“Okay, kiddos! Say your last goodbyes! We’ve decided to take Roman and keep him here!” Patton exclaims, tilting his head a little too much.

Roman jolts as the lights flicker.

“B-But what about Remus?” he asks.

Patton laughs and it’s almost ear piercing.

“Oh, don’t be silly, kiddo! Remus has been naughty. He can’t stay here. You don’t need him.”

“H-He’s my brother…what do you mean he can’t stay, and I don’t need him?” Roman whimpers.

Logan leans down and stares at Roman.

“Your brother is not fit to be with us. He is not needed here. Until we can…dispose of him, he will remain with Janus. We will dispose of him once you have been moved here, Roman.”

Roman’s eyes widened.

“A-Are…Are you splitting us…again?” he whispers.

Patton giggles and it seems even louder, his grin twitching.

“Just to be safe, kiddo!”

The room grows darker and Roman tries to move again but he still can’t. He turns towards Remus, reaching out for him.

“Remus!”

Remus tries to reach back only for Janus to grab him.

“Forgive me.” Janus whispers

And Remus goes limp in his arms.

Roman gasps in horror, pain spreading through him.

“No! Give my brother back! Give him back!”

Patton laughs again. He laughs and laughs and laughs. The sound rings and echoes.

“Now, now. Be a good prince, Roman.”

Roman desperately tries again and again to move, arms flailing out as he tries to reach out for Remus.

Janus just turns away with Remus in his arms before fading.

Patton’s laughs grow even louder and it’s making Roman’s ears start to ache. Logan stares at him again, a hand on Roman’s shoulder.

“He’s gone now, Roman.”

“No…No! Bring him back! I need him! I need—”

Roman gasps.

“-REMUS!”

Roman tries to move again but finds that even now he still can’t and flails around, a heavy weight on top of him.

“Let me go! I need to find him! I need Remus!” he whimpers.

“Easy, Ro! It’s me! It’s Remus!”

Roman blinks and his flailing slow to a stop as he squints in the dark. He sees a green blob and after another blink, he recognizes it as-

“Ree?”

Remus gets off of Roman and smiles softly.

“I’m right here, RoRo. I’m not going anywhere.” he replies.

Roman sits up and stares at Remus in the darkness of their shared room, the only source of light coming from their glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling. Blood red eyes stare back at him and Roman can’t help but launch himself into his twin’s arms.

“I don’t want you to go!” Roman wails.

Remus hugs back, patting his twin as he does.

“I’m not leaving, RoRo. I’m right here.”

Roman sniffs and hiccups at that, pulling away to gaze at his twin. He’s still there. He’s still awake. He’s not limp like in his dream or—

“RoRo?”

Roman hiccups again.

“T-They tried to split us. Again. Morality and Logic. I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to lose you, Ree.” he whispers. “I don’t care if they think you’re bad. You’re my brother and I need you.”

Remus feels his heart ache. Is that what those light sides really think of him? Are they so cruel that they can’t let him be with Roman? He huffs and pouts, cupping Roman’s face and squishing it.

“Who cares what they think? They can’t keep us apart no matter what. Janus won’t let that happen either.”

“B-But my dream—”

“Is just a dream, dummy. No one will take me, and no one will keep us apart.”

Roman blinks and sniffs.

“P-Promise?”

Remus grins, letting go of Roman to form a crown above his head with his hands.

“I even royal promise, Ro.”

Remus then pulls his brother into another hug, glaring ahead. He’ll make sure no one ever splits them again. Especially not those two. He’ll shed blood if he has to.

Meanwhile, Roman’s sniffles slowly quiet down.

“Thank you, Ree.”

And Roman slips into a peaceful slumber this time, clinging onto Remus’ sleep shirt.

They were split anyway. It wasn’t their choice, however. Morality decided that Roman needed to be with them in order for things to be more…balanced. That day, the Mindpalace split as well with the Light sides above and the Dark Sides being shoved down a little closer to the subconscious. Janus didn’t like the idea but there wasn’t anything else he could do. He tried to fight for the twins, but Morality insisted on this and of course, who did Thomas listen to more? Morality always did have more influence over everything.

Roman barely remembers the day of the Second Split. With time passing on, it’s becoming more and more of a blurry memory. He doesn’t know why and not even Logic will tell him. Still, Roman knows he feels incomplete. He doesn’t like being apart from Remus, but Morality is right, isn’t he? He’s a light side now and he must be good. And yet…Roman missed Remus.

Roman missed his twin. He missed giggling and playing with him. He missed having adventures with him and fighting off nightmares. It took so much time to get used to sleeping alone. He’d spend nights crying silently after every nightmare. He missed having someone to hold him down when he’d flail. Sure, Patton was…kind and he made warm milk, but he wasn’t Remus. Remus would always assure him that his dreams are just dreams. He’d tell him silly stories until he laughed his tears away. He’d hold him till he fell asleep.

So, Roman finds himself lying awake again as he wracks his brain. It’s been a year since the Second Split, and he can’t remember much of it. He’s still trying to make sense of it but refuses to believe that Remus and Janus were bad. Sighing, Roman sits up and glances at the door.

He wonders…

Before he can stop himself, Roman shrugs his blanket off and stands up from his bed.

“Need Remus…” he mumbles to himself.

Roman glances at his bedroom door before going over to the other side of his room. He has yet to decide where to put the door to his Imagination, so he summoned a portal instead. As long as he had no door, Patton couldn’t follow him in. This felt all wrong but Roman finds himself not caring all too much.

Roman then steps through and closes the portal behind him. The Imagination greets him with a cool, evening breeze. It makes Roman feel a little more at ease. He wishes he could sleep here but with his nightmares still intense, he didn’t want to risk them affecting his beloved world. Roman sighs and begins walking through the grassy field. Usually, he starts at the forest, but he didn’t feel like it tonight.

It feels calm and peaceful, walking through the sea of dark green. Fireflies even join in on his trek, lighting his way. Roman finds himself humming softly, tilting his head up to admire the twinkling stars he placed in the sky. Off in the distant sky, two bright stars glow side by side. One green and one red. Between them is one big golden star. Roman doesn’t recall making those but he adores them anyway.

Soon, Roman finds himself wandering further and further. Past the sleeping village and the castle. Over the rocky mountains behind the kingdom and across the river below them.

At the end, Roman finds himself walking towards the ravine that separated his side and Remus’. He remembers hearing the Mindpalace rumble on the day he and Remus were separated. When he returned to the Imagination, even this world had split in two. The twins had formed a bridge with a gazebo in the center where they could meet every day. The bridge was white on Roman’s side and black on Remus’. No one knew about this but Janus who kept quiet for their sake.

Roman walks towards the bridge and makes his way over, sighing as his hand finds the barrier that kept them apart. Neither twin could go over to each other, and it seemed Morality made sure of it. Roman sighs then…he hears something rustle on the other side. Had he been caught or—

“RoRo!”

From behind a bush and holding a baseball bat, Remus runs out and meets his twin at the barrier. He couldn’t sleep either and snuck out.

Roman gasps and grins, his hands meeting Remus’ as they pressed against the barrier.

“Ree! I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, dummy.” Remus grins back before sitting in front of Roman. “So, how is it over there in the Light Side?”

Roman sighs and sits too.

“It doesn’t feel like home. There are too many rules and too much work. Morality and Logic are no fun either.” he huffs.

Remus tilts his head. Morality and Logic? Something didn’t seem right about this and his brother, but he decides not to question that for now.

“That’s sucky.” he says instead. “What kind of work are you doing? Do you still get to create stuff?”

Roman nods but then…he sighs again. Ever since he moved to the Light Sides against his will, he’d been losing more and more of his creative freedom. He’d been given rules to follow, filters to watch out for, and an unending mountain of drafts that he had to revise because the original just wasn’t good enough anymore.

“RoRo?”

Roman pulls away from his thoughts and shakes his head.

“Logic gave me a bunch of dumb rules to follow.” he huffs. “He says I have to get it approved by him and it has to be appropriate. So, I followed all the rules and he’s still being a butthead about it. I just can’t please him.”

Remus frowns and so badly wants to hold his brother. Or beat up Logan for making his brother sad. If he could, he’d do both now. For now, he places a hand on the barrier.

“Who cares what that boring towel thinks? He wishes he could create as good as you, Ro!” he exclaims. “Besides, I bet your stuff is still super cool and his eyeballs are just too broken to see it! He’s dumb!”

Roman snorts and giggles.

“Ree! He can’t be dumb, he’s logic!” he squeals.

Remus smiles. His brother looks so exhausted but at least he’s happy for now.

“Yeah, but he’s not creativity! He’s not the boss of what you create and how!” he giggles. “What about Morality?”

“He’s…okay. But not like Janus.” Roman replies once he’s calmed down. “He won’t let me have extra snacks and he keeps telling me everything I do isn’t princely like.”

Oh no.

Remus frowns and tilts his head.

“What do you mean?”

Roman pouts again and Remus hates what those jerks are doing to his brother.

“He has even more rules. It’s not princely like to be late to dinner or it’s not princely like to make inappropriate jokes. I didn’t even make a joke like that! It was just a fart joke!” he huffs.

“Then they’re both dumb and they don’t get us.” Remus also huffs. “If they want to be goody, goody babies then let them. You don’t have to let them boss you around.”

Roman sighs and leans against the barrier. If he leans hard enough, he could feel Remus’ hands.

“I guess…I don’t like it here, Ree. I don’t wanna be perfect. I just wanna be with you and Janus where everything made sense.” he mumbles.

Remus smiles sadly, wishing he could pet his brother’s hair. He knows Roman likes it when he does that. It’s very calming to both, surprisingly. He wishes his brother was back here too. Ever since his brother was taken, Janus has been sad and drinking a lot. Like a lot more than usual. Their space had grown quiet as well and nothing felt the same without his twin.

The dark creativity then gazed at his twin. Roman looked so tired. So exhausted. Even his eyes looked…less green than it used to be. It made Remus feel angry at the so-called light sides. Who were they to call themselves high and mighty while hurting someone they wanted to be as one of them? Remus feels his thoughts whispering to go up there and deal with them, but he knows Roman wouldn’t want that and he’s needed here more. So, he tells them unkindly to shut up and decides he’ll figure out a way to get his brother back. Even if it means kidnapping him.

“What?! Remus, you can’t kidnap me! Morality’s going to be mad, and he’ll never let me see you!” Roman exclaims, jolting his twin out of his thoughts.

Remus blinks.

“Huh?”

“You muttered that out loud.” Roman frowns. “Don’t kidnap me or do anything else, Ree. I don’t want them to separate us even more than we are now.”

Remus sighs.

“But…”

Roman places a hand on the barrier, giving Remus a pleading gaze.

“Please, Ree…I need you…”

Remus’ shoulders droop. His brother was right.

“Fine…” he sighs. “I just hate that we’re split like this. I miss you, Ro…”

Roman smiles softly.

“I miss you too, Ree. I promise I’ll find a way to bring us back.” he whispers.

Remus returns the soft smile.

“Royal promise?”

“I, Prince Roman, Royal promise.”

And Remus smiles more as Roman forms a crown above his head with his hand. As the twins talk the night away, the barrier weakens, and the ravine silently closes in a little.

One day the barrier finally broke, and the twins could go to each other. The ravine stayed by their choice to keep their sides of the Imagination safe, but the bridge remained, its foundation stronger than ever. The twins also decided to keep this a secret, sneaking into their domains in the evening to meet at the bridge. They’d play in the evening then separated just before the sun came up.

Of course, as time passed, there were ups and downs. Fights and arguments. That didn’t break their bond even if they’d screamed at each other about hatred and despise. They would feel guilty at the end of the day anyways and would come running to each other to apologize.

They went through many more things. From Virgil changing sides suddenly to Roman being hurt by Janus and Remus introducing himself to the Light Sides officially. Of course, he and Roman had to put on an act to keep their secret, well, a secret. Janus and Virgil knew though.

Roman never really interacted with Virgil during his time with Remus and Janus. He saw him once in the kitchen and freaked out, running off. He still feels bad and wonders if that’s why Virgil was so snarky when they finally met.

When Remus had finally made himself known and went with the act that he and Roman rehearsed, he felt a little bad about whacking Roman in the head. As soon as the episode was done, they met in the Imagination and Roman let Remus triple check to make sure his brain was still there.

When Janus had gone too far with Roman, Roman had angrily burst into the Imagination and went on a rampage. Remus followed and calmed him down, helping him out of his spiral before they went to see Janus. One deep conversation later and things were on the mend. Or as mended as it could be.

Due to Roman’s time in the Light Side, he’d been getting worse and worse. He’d be far too busy these days and even much more exhausted. His costume had been growing baggier and baggier. His smile had become strained, almost fake. Tired. Worst of all, Roman grew quiet and serious. Remus didn’t like it one bit. They had changed his brother.

So, one day, Remus set out to the Imagination to go see his brother again. He had a bad feeling about him at the moment. Especially since he could feel some sort of pain twisting in his gut. It’s a blessing and a curse but ever since The Split, the twins had been able to feel each other’s pain no matter how big or small. Janus called it a twin bond or something. Remus hates how it makes him feel this constant dull throbbing from his brother. Roman hates how he feels nothing from Remus, envying how he didn’t have rules to follow or roles to play.

Remus keeps trekking on through the grass field, using his twin’s shortcut. It’s the dead of night both here and in the Mindscape so he’s not too worried about being caught. The Intrusive side sighs and gazes ahead, seeing the tiny lights of Roman’s little village off to the side, his bright and tall castle stands just above them. Actually, the castle seemed a little dimmer these days and it made Remus frown.

Sure, Remus could have gone through his own side but ever since he made himself known to the others, he stopped giving a fuck about the rule of where he was allowed to go. He’s even made it clear that he could go where he damn well pleases. Especially since he’s had enough of them splitting him and Roman. This led to Remus finally barging into Roman’s room to check on him, only to find his door to the Imagination left open. So, Remus followed and here he was.

Remus then continues walking through the village, feeling a bit uneasy from the silence. Sure, it may be evening, and the people are asleep in their homes but not even the cicadas and the crickets were singing their songs. It made the whole place feel…dead. The Imagination has always been in tune with the twins’ emotions and lately Roman hasn’t been feeling his best. It seems the Imagination knew that. Even the little patches of grass and weeds drooped downwards into the dirt as if they hung in their heads in sorrow.

Remus shakes his head.

“Oh, Roman…”

The Duke continues on, heading up the path and past the homes of the nobles. Through one of the windows, Remus could see a family gathered together at the table for dinner. At least they were happy. It made Remus want to gag as he tears his gaze away, hurrying towards the golden gates. The guards there merely turned before looking away. It seems they were also worried for their prince.

“Yeah…I know how you guys feel.” Remus mutters as he walks through. “I…I’ll talk to him.”

The guards nod in return and Remus continues on. The Intrusive side then walks up the path and through the gate, making his way through the courtyard. There’s no sign of anyone. Not even a single noble or a maid around the fountains. It’s unusually quiet and it surprisingly disturbs Remus. Sighing, Remus continues on his way and enters the main doors. Somehow, it’s even quieter inside. There’s usually so much going on that Remus refuses to take the front entrance and prefers to bust through the window. Today, however, no one is around here either. At least, Remus thinks so.

Remus wanders through the foyer and towards the throne, pausing when he finds the doors left ajar. Usually, they’re left wide open for Roman’s people to come see him when he’s at his throne. It makes the Duke hum in worry as he enters cautiously, wondering what his little brother had done to them…and to himself. Breathing out and ignoring the intrusive voices in his head, Remus enters the throne room and finds-

“Mama?”

“Remus. I’m glad you’re here, dear.”

Maleficent. The Dragon Witch and Roman’s so-called enemy. Every now and then she’d fly over the village, pretending to attack and Roman would save the day. Maleficent, or Mal for short, was always happy to play her role to see Roman happy. Roman worried about hurting her too much but was always assured that she could take his hits. Mal would continue to do fake battles and when she wasn’t, she lived in her tower up in the far mountains of Roman’s realms.

Mal also acted like a mother figure for the twins in return for them saving her life after the split. She was going to vanish along with The King who had named her after the character from Sleeping Beauty, but the twins chose to save her. In return, Mal became their guardian and caretaker. Their mother. She would be the one watching over them for her fallen king, making sure they were safe whenever they visited the realm.

Remus ambles over and greets her.

“You never show up in the throne room, mama. What are you doing here?” he asks.

“Something didn’t feel right so I came over to check on Roman. I must have scared the people away when I arrived.” Mal explains. “I tried to talk to your brother, but he won’t even answer to me.”

Remus sighs, a hand on his chest.

“I can feel his pain. It…It hurts so much…” he mutters.

Mal sighs.

“I know, little one. His realm…it’s just as sorrowful.” she shakes her head before gazing at one of the stained glass windows. “Roman told me he was going up to the tower. Hopefully he’s still there and he’ll talk to you.”

Remus nods, blinking away his tears before they could fall.

“I’ll take care of him, mama.” he promises.

Mal smiles softly.

“I know you will, my dear. And please, make sure you take care of yourself too. You look tired.”

Remus sighs but manages a small smile.

“I will.” he nods. “You should go before the people come back to capture you, mama.”

Mal kisses Remus’ forehead before the mother figure turns and makes her leave. Remus watches her go before turning towards the throne, making his way over to it. It’s golden shine had dulled out and the soft, velvet fabric looks as if it had been picked at. Remus stares at it for a moment, wondering what Roman really felt like even as he sat upon his throne. Roman always boasted about being the best prince and it seemed no one knew or even cared to see how much work that took. It’s strange to see it completely empty. When Roman visits his realm, he always stops by the throne room whenever he can. When the prince wasn’t in, the nobles and castle staff would be roaming about as the guards stood by.

Rubbing at his face, Remus leaves the throne room and climbs the stairs. He still doesn’t like the heavy silence following him down the corridor and up the next flight of stairs. Several more staircases later and Remus soon arrives at the door to the tower. Roman often hides away here to be alone or to talk to Remus. The tower had been given a spell to ensure that only Mal and the twins could enter whenever they liked. Remus feels lucky that he’s able to enter and lets himself in.

“Ro? Mama told me you were here. She said you were hiding up again.” Remus calls.

“Out here, Ree.” Roman calls back a moment later from the balcony.

Remus breathes out a sigh of relief and heads over to where his twin is. He goes through the curtains and finds Roman leaning over the parapet of the tower. Roman looks exhausted, the bags under his eyes almost as dark as Virgil’s eyeshadow. Remus comes over, copying his twin and staring at him for a moment before deciding to talk.

“Um…hi, Ro…what are you doing up here?” Remus starts.

Roman doesn’t move, gazing at the hills far in the distance.

“If you think I’m going to jump. I’m not. I’m just…thinking. I guess.”

“Oh.” Remus blinks. “I wasn’t going to say anything about that. At least not now. I just wanted to talk.”

Roman manages an empty chuckle.

“Heh, funny. You usually prefer to swing first, talk later. Did you accidentally swing at yourself, Dukey?”

Remus shakes his head and sighs.

“No. I just really miss my brother. As annoying as he is, I like having him around as the dumb, sparkly, prince he is.”

“I…I don’t know. I don’t feel sparkly. Probably just dumb.”

Remus blinks then stands up straight and turns Roman to face him.

“Okay, Ro-Bro, look. You’re clearly not okay right now. Talk to me. Tell me what’s got your brain being a bitch. That’s what I’m here for, okay?”

Roman stares at Remus, a tear falling down his cheek.

“Ree…”

“Talk to me, RoRo. It’s okay.”

Another tear rolls down Roman’s cheek and-

“It hurts, Ree…”

Remus brings Roman to the stone bench behind him and sits them both down.

“What hurts, Ro?”

“Everything. No matter what I do, I can’t please them. I can’t make Patton happy. I can’t satisfy Logan’s demands. What good am I? What kind of Creativity am I?”

Remus feels his heart throb in pain. Roman is hurting so, so much. It makes Remus wonder what those light-side idiots are doing to him. Sure, Remus has seen Roman hanging around them and being friendly with them but…in return they hurt Roman. Do they even realize what they’re doing to Roman? Probably not. It pisses Remus off, but he swallows his anger for another day. Instead, the Duke turns to Roman and wipes his tears.

“You know what? Fuck them. Fuck those light side bitches.”

Roman gasps.

“Ree!”

Remus grins.

“Who cares what they say about you or what they think? You are Prince Roman, and you don’t need their goddamn approval.” he ruffles Roman’s hair.

“B-But I- “

“But nothing! Well, except for my butt. Anyways, fuck them. If they don’t want to give a shit about you. You don’t have to give a shit about them.”

Roman manages a small smile.

“I guess…that’s true, Ree.” he then sighs, and that small smile disappears. “I’m just scared. What if they don’t want me anymore? What if they get rid of me or hate me?”

“Woah, there, Ro. Let’s get you off that spiral coaster, yeah? Even if that does happen, you’ve always got me. I’m not leaving you. No matter how big of a bitch you can get.”

Roman finally giggles a bit.

“Hey! You’re annoying too, dummy!”

“Yeah, but you’ll be stuck with me at least.” Remus grins.

Remus feels the weight on his chest start to lighten. Good.

“I think I’ll be okay with that. Promise you’ll be there to catch me?” Roman asks.

Remus hums then grins, forming a crown symbol above his head using his hands.

“I, Duke Remus, royal promise.”

“Remus…” Roman’s eyes widen then he lunges forward and hugs him. “Thank you…”

Remus smiles and hugs back.

“Of course, dumbass.”

The twins stay like that for a while before…

“So…would you mind if I just…talked to the others?”

“Ree, no!”

“Eh, worth a shot.”

Despite being all grown up now, Remus’ nightmares have not changed. It seems more like they’ve grown darker and more vivid. Sometimes it was hard to tell what wasn’t real and what was actually happening. It was easy to lose himself in the darkest visions of his sleeping mind. It was harder to find the way out with no Roman to save him. Sure, Janus was there, doing his best to keep him afloat but he could only keep the nightmares at bay for a little while. They’d come back every other night, darker than ever. It’s a miracle that Remus gets any sleep, really. Sometimes, the duke is often found sleeping in odd places, napping excessively in the afternoon when he isn’t causing chaos.

Today isn’t any different. Remus had wanted to do some art to quiet his mind of the annoying loud voices he keeps hearing. He had just finished his third piece as he started growing sleepy. He then soon fell asleep at his table before he could sign his artwork, paintbrush rolling out of his hand as he snoozed away.

When Remus blinks his eyes open, he finds himself standing in the Imagination. Yet, it’s not his own realm that he’s in. He looks around and finds that he’s in a village. A torn emblem of a red shield flutters beside an abandoned tavern. This is…Roman’s village? Remus shivers and looks towards the castle. A shadowy black haze surrounds it, looking more menacing than the blood red sky above it. Yet, that’s not the terrifying part. No, the true horror is that this is what became of Roman’s realm.

But…why?

Remus shudders and carries on, searching for his twin. Maybe he just wanted to try something different? Yeah, that’s gotta be it. He walks through the silent village and up the path to the town square where the nobles’ house are. No one’s here either. Remus glances at an open window. He only sees an empty table. Where had everyone gone? Roman loved his people too much so there’s no way he’d gotten rid of them.

Remus walks on and up the castle path and through rusted gates, passing wilted grass and dried fountains. The courtyard looked more like…a cemetery now. Funnily enough and ironically, Remus isn’t thrilled about this. Roman’s realm is supposed to be stupidly bright and annoyingly glittery like the prince himself. Remus just finds all of this to look completely wrong.

Soon Remus enters the castles, the grand doors opening with a heavy groan. The foyer is empty and dim with the only lighting coming from the glass windows and the little torches on the wall. Remus steps in, shivering again as he’s greeted by cold air. Usually, Roman’s castle is warm and welcoming. This is just haunting. Maybe it’s a bit cliché to Remus but he reminds himself that this Roman’s place and it shouldn’t be this dark and cold.

“R-Ro?” Remus calls out.

The only reply is the echo of his own voice.

Remus pushes on, still calling for Roman. His voice echoes back and he worries more. What if Roman was gone too? What if something happened to him? What if he-Remus stops that thought and carries on. Roman has to be okay. He’s dumb but he’s brave. Yeah, Roman’s a big, brave Prince. Remus tells himself he’s probably just hanging out somewhere or up in the tower again. Maybe he’s in the throne room, doing his royal duties. That has to be it.

So, the duke enters the throne room and looks towards the throne and-oh. There’s Roman sitting there and…not moving. Why isn’t he moving? Why isn’t he blinking? Remus slowly makes his way towards the throne, hoping his footsteps would alert his twin. Still…Roman doesn’t move. He remains frozen. His face does not change. His eyes do not twitch. Remus places a hand on his chest only to feel…nothing. No weight, no pain, no aches. There is nothing there.

“Roman? It’s me. It’s Ree.”

Roman says nothing.

Remus steps forward, moving closer and closer to the throne. Under the light from the stained glass windows, he could see that the throne had rusted and its velvet fabric was now torn. Odd. He remembers the throne being shinier and cleaner than this. Had it been so long since the last time he visited Roman? Had he forgotten to see him? Remus knows he hadn’t. He visits Roman as much as he can, constantly bothering him even as he tries to get his work done. When did this happen then? Remus swallows and finds himself right at Roman’s throne.

“Hey, RoRo? Can you hear me? I’m right here. It’s Ree!” Remus calls.

Still no answer…

Then the window on the left swings open with a gust of wind and the curtains fly off. Remus watches them flutter down to the floor in a heap and a little more light floods the room. It trails across the floor and lands perfectly on Roman’s face. Roman’s face had turned to stone. Horrified, Remus runs up to his brother and looks at his brother closer in the light. It wasn’t just his face. His whole body had turned to stone, face frozen with a broken expression. Remus had been too late.

“R-RoRo?”

Remus pats his face.

Nothing happens.

“RoRo, this isn’t a funny prank! Wake up, dumbass! Wake up!” Remus cries.

Still, nothing happens.

Remus shakes his head, smacking Roman over and over as he could chip away the stone to find him underneath.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Roman, please!”

Sure, Remus had imagined scenarios of hurting his brother, but he never wanted him gone.

“Come on, little brother! You can stop now! It’s not funny! Wake up!”

Remus slams his fists against the stone, not caring about the pain that follows after.

“Please, wake up!”

Tears fall from Remus’ face and land on Roman’s head as he screams-

“ROMAN!”

Remus shoots up from where he’s sitting, his stool falling over as he stumbles backwards. Wide, red eyes dart around in search of his twin. He’s not here though and Remus wanders out of his art room, muttering his brother’s name. He has to be here somewhere. He has to be okay. Remus looks around some more, checking around the living room. No prince there. Remus makes his way towards the door to the corridor that leads to the light sides.

“Remus? Is that you? I heard you screaming. Is everything alright?”

Janus comes down from the other corridor that goes to the bedrooms, worry on his face when Remus doesn’t respond.

“Remus?”

Remus opens the door.

“Need to find him. Find Roman.”

Janus sighs. This wasn’t the first time this happened. He’s usually able to snap him out of it but Remus seems really lost this time.

“Remus, I’m sure Roman is okay. We saw him this morning.”

Remus shakes his head.

“Need to find Roman.”

Janus sighs once more, going over to Remus as he wonders what nightmare he had this time.

“Alright, we’ll go find Roman.”

With that, Janus and Remus leave the Dark Side and make their way through the cold corridor that separates the two sides. Janus hates this place and how freezing it is, how it came to divide them. He wraps his cloak around himself and follows Remus through to the light side, feeling a bit relieved when they’re greeted by the warmth of the Light Side. Janus refuses to admit that he prefers it over the Dark Side’s coldness. The snake side then turns to Remus.

“Okay, Remus, shall we check your brother’s room?”

Remus walks on.

“Find Roman. Find him.” he repeats in a mutter.

Poor thing.

Remus ambles up the stairs, Janus making sure he doesn’t trip. The others are out so Janus isn’t too worried about running into them. They make their way past the room doors and find Roman’s, its star nameplate shining under the light. A big cursive ‘R’ is in the center of it. Of course. Without hesitation, Janus knocks for Remus and a moment later the door opens to reveal Roman with his hair a mess and a pencil tucked behind his ear.

“What is-Janus? What are you doing here?” Roman asks.

Janus steps aside and Remus blinks before he goes up to his twin, snapping out of his trance.

“R-Roman? Is this…are you real?” Remus whispers.

Roman, realizing his twin had another nightmare, nods and takes his twin’s hand. He places it on his chest so Remus can feel his heartbeat.

“I’m real, Ree. I’m okay. I’m right here.”

As soon as he feels the thumping of his brother’s heart, Remus tackles Roman into a tight hug.

“I thought…I thought you were gone!” Remus wails.

Roman squeezes his brother, squishing him in the hug as much as he can. It’s how his twin likes it.

“Shh, I’m here, Ree. Whatever you saw, it wasn’t real and I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

“B-But in my dream your kingdom was all dark and when I went to see you, you were turned to stone…You didn’t move or talk, and I thought...” Remus sniffs and cries again.

Roman pats his brother’s back, heart aching at the sight of his twin breaking down. He’s usually the more carefree one between them, not caring about anything. Seeing him now like this is just sad.

“Hey, your dream is just a dream, remember? What’s real is you and me and Janus and the whole Mindscape. I’m not going anywhere, and I mostly certainly am not turning to stone.” he soothes his twin.

Remus’ cries quiet down to sniffles.

“R-Royal promise? You won’t leave or do something that stupid? You’ll be here forever and ever?”

“Royal promise, brother.” Roman smiles softly, forming the crown above his head.

Remus hugs Roman again at that, rubbing his tears away.

“Thanks, Ro. You better not tell Virgil I was crying like a little bitch.” he sniffs one last time, letting go of his twin moments later.

Roman huffs a laugh.

“I won’t, Ree.”

As Remus lets himself be comforted by the assurance that Roman is right there, Janus smiles fondly off to the side and ignores the ache in his heart again.

For a long time now, Janus had watched the twins make Royal Promises to each other. These promises were very important to them both, so they were very careful as to when they made it. A Royal Promise carried a lot of weight and pain behind it after all. The pain came from the promise being broken. The twins never ever break a Royal Promise.

The only problem is that the twins don’t know why they started doing that. Roman just felt it was stronger than a regular promise, so he did it Remus, ever curious and always following his twin, copied Roman. It became their little ritual and it was very rare that they let any of the others try to do what they do. Besides, Roman made up a rule that you have to be royal to make one.

Sighing, Janus glances at the twins. They were currently play-wrestling in the field just down the hill from where the snake side was lounging under the King’s Tree. He smiles fondly as he hears them laugh and tumble around the tall grass. Despite the rough times, Janus is glad their bond has remained strong. No matter how many times the others had tried, they refused to let anyone separate them. Sometimes, he wonders if they’ll ever…Janus puts a stop to that thought. Even if the twins could, Janus wouldn’t force them to re-fuse. They seem happier this way.

“Having fun, boys?” Janus calls, chuckling as he sees them pop up together with grass in their hair and stains on their outfits.

“Yeah! We’re wrestling for who gets the leftover spaghetti in the fridge!” Remus answers back, jumping onto Roman’s back.

“You had it last week though!” Roman giggles.

“Yeah, but I want some and Virgey can make you more!”

The twins go back to wrestling for a second as Janus huffs a laugh.

“Okay, you two. Come sit down and take a break first. You’ve been wrestling all afternoon.” he calls, the leaves rustling above as if to call the twins over as well.

The twins giggle and race each other over, plopping under the cool shade of the branches. A nice breeze blows and starts to cool them down. It seems as if the Imagination always knew what they needed.

“I totally won the wrestling match.” Remus grins.

“Excuse me, I pinned you down more than you got me!” Roman puffs in pride.

“Nuh uh!”

Janus laughs again.

“How about you both win the wrestling match and I’ll convince Patton to let me make spaghetti for dinner tonight?” he offers, not wanting them to actually start a fight.

The twins gasp and nod eagerly.

“Yes!”

Janus smiles softly.

“Excellent.”

Silence falls in as the three relax under the afternoon shade. It’s nice and peaceful and Janus would do anything to stay here forever. No problems. No pain. Just him and the happy twins he promised he’d protect. His promise…Janus remembers when he made the very first Royal Promise…to his King. He wonders if the King knows how hard he’d been fighting to keep that promise. How he failed and went through hell and back to make up for it. For the King. For the twins. For-

“Janus?”

Janus blinks out of his thoughts and looks over to see Roman sitting up, frowning at him in concern and Remus copying his twin.

“Are you okay, Janus?” Roman asks.

“You were really spacing out, snakey.” Remus adds.

Janus sighs and nods.

“I’m alright. I’m just…” he glances up at the tree. “I’m just thinking about an old friend…and promises.”

Roman tilts his head in confusion.

“Promises? Like Royal promises?”

Janus chuckles softly.

“Yes. How did you know?”

“I saw you looking upset while I was hugging Remus and making my Royal promise to him.” Roman replies, smiling bashfully. “Did…Did we do something wrong?”

Janus’ heart aches and he shakes his head.

“No, not at all. It just reminds me of my old friend. The King.” he answers, smiling softly as the tree rustles again.

“The King?” Remus chimes in, sitting up as well.

Janus nods, smile now fond.

“Yes…” he answers, gazing at the twins. Sometimes he sees his old friend in them. “I made the first Royal Promise to him.”

The twins’ eyes widen. All those years of not knowing where the Royal Promise came from…and Janus made the first one to the King. Curiosity grows and the twins move closer to Janus, wanting to know more of the King they once were.

“What was the promise?” Roman asks.

“It was a promise I didn’t think I’d ever have to make. Today, however, I don’t regret making it.” Janus answers. “It was just before the split…”

This is it. King Romulus knew what was going to happen next. He didn’t think it would ever happen to him. He didn’t think Morality would actually go through with it. Yet, Thomas is changing and growing. His view on this world and what he feels is changing as well. Morality is afraid and Thomas seems to believe he knows best, so Romulus had no power here. What could he say to Thomas who seemed so afraid of who he was going to become?

Romulus quickly makes his way down the palace corridor. He had called for his closest and most trusted friend to spend one last day with him. He wanted Janus to have one last good memory before they had to say goodbye. Smiling to himself, Romulus makes his way to the throne room and steps in. He finds Janus waiting by his throne.

“Janus, I’m glad you made it.”

Janus looks up from where he’s staring at the throne.

“Romulus. You called me, old friend?” the young side asks, coming over to him. “Has it happened? Are you…?”

Romulus chuckles and shakes his head.

“Not yet. We still have some time before I have to see Morality tomorrow.”

“I wish we had more time. I wish this didn’t have to happen.” Janus huffs. “I don’t want you to go.”

Romulus smiles sadly.

“Neither of us can do anything to stop Morality. We’ve tried. Thomas won’t listen to us. All we can do is accept and adapt to change.”

Janus huffs again, rolling his eyes.

“You’re much nicer than I am.”

Romulus chuckles, patting Janus’ head. Janus was always shorter than his friend. Oddly, he’ll miss the head pats.

“If I could keep myself glued together, I would. I would tape and super glue and suture me to myself if I could.”

“I wish you could. So, what did you want to do with your short time left?” Janus asks, heart aching at that question.

Romulus smiles, offering his hand.

“I want to spend time with you, old friend. One last time.”

Janus sighs then smiles, taking Romulus’ hand.

“Alright, my King.”

King Romulus laughs and tugs Janus along at that. He brings Janus to his garden first. It was one of their favorite spots in the castle to run away to when life was stressful or when Morality’s pressure was too much, and Logic was being harsh. Romulus knows that they mean well but wish they were just a bit more understanding. He knew they had problems of their own and seemed to prefer to repress them rather than bring it to the meeting table.

The garden ended up being Janus and Romulus’ private getaway from it all. It was peaceful and there were always birds singing up in the trees. The air smelled like roses and fresh strawberries. Romulus loved strawberries. There was also a hint of nightshade. Romulus did love to experiment with strange things from time to time. In the center is an open dome that doubled as an observatory and the sun streamed down perfectly on the viewing deck.

Janus and Romulus end up spending all morning picnicking on the deck and chatting. They talked about Romulus’ recent experiments, trying not to think about how that would be his last. They have tea and cake and candy snacks, Romulus telling stories about his last adventure and Thomas’ recent dream. It felt like a regular morning, but Janus couldn’t help but feel heavy as the seconds ticked away. He knew what was coming soon and couldn’t stop thinking about it. Romulus knew it too but chose to ignore it. He focused on making his last day with Janus the best day he could give him.

After a morning of garden strolling, chatting, and tea, Romulus took Janus out of the castle. Janus watched as Romulus strolled through his little kingdom, waving hello to his servants and maids. To his guards. To the nobles and the village people. Janus desperately wanted to tell them what was going to happen to their king, but they wouldn’t understand. It makes Janus wonder if the people were going to one day wonder where their king had gone. Or would the kingdom and its people just…

“Janus, come on!”

Janus hurries along.

“Coming, Romulus!”

Janus follows Romulus through the village, watching him interact with the tavern owner. The owner nods and walks into his little tavern. Moments later, the man steps back out and hands Romulus a basket as he bows. Romulus thanks the tavern with a handful of gold before waving Janus over to follow. Janus follows along, wondering what’s in the basket. It smells wonderful and it takes Janus’ mind off of the heavy weight for a moment.

Soon, they exit the village and take a long, winding road through the tall grass field. Janus remembers watching Romulus hunting for bugs and rabbits and frogs when they were much younger. He follows Romulus and wishes the sun wouldn’t go any lower. Not yet. They climb a big hill, and a golden apple tree waits at the top. Janus had helped Romulus grow it a long time ago, calling it their special hiding place that they could go to when they couldn’t hide in the garden. Romulus said he’d bring everyone here one day but…Janus knew it would never happen. Janus didn’t want to bring anyone else here. Not when they would be taking his friend away.

“Janus, are you going to just stand there or are you going to come join me?”

Janus blinks out of his thoughts and sees Romulus sitting on the wooden throne that he made for himself years ago. In front of him is a matching table with the basket on top and a matching chair. Smiling shyly, Janus sits on the other chair and watches as Romulus leans forward to open the basket. The Creative side takes out two wrapped meals and a small jug of grape juice. He then sets the table, putting out the meals and pouring the juice. Once it’s ready, Romulus nods at Janus.

“Go on, Janus. I asked for your favorite.” The king says.

They unwrap their food and Janus is surprised yet touched to see that Romulus brought him some deviled eggs. Silence falls in as they both eat their meals, the sun setting ever so slowly. It makes Janus wish he could freeze time just a little longer. Sometimes he wished he could even turn back time or convince Thomas that everything was alright and that there was nothing wrong with who he was. Yet, Janus knows it’ll never happen. It’s too late now.

Soon, the sun is even lower, and the sky is a mix of reds and oranges and pinks. Romulus and Janus have finished their meals. The table was cleaned up and vanished along with the chair. The wooden throne remained but the two chose to sit on the grass as they watched the sunset. Neither said anything but knew that as soon as the sun was gone, their time together would be ending soon. It brings back that heavy weight from earlier inside Janus’ heart and he glances at the King.

“I wish time wouldn’t move so fast.” Janus sighs.

Romulus chuckles, watching the sun dip lower.

“You’d think as someone in charge of this entire realm, I’d be able to do that. Believe me, I wish I could, Janus.” he answers, waving his hand.

Nothing happens much to both of their disappointment, and they sit in silence again before-

“Janus…may I ask you for one last favor?” Romulus asks a moment later, sitting up on his knees.

Janus turns, mirroring Romulus.

“What is it, my King?”

Romulus removes his crown, placing it in Janus’ hands.

“When I am split, and I am replaced…will you take care of whoever takes my place?” he asks.

Janus’ eyes widen as he gazes at the crown in his shaking hands then at Romulus who’s calmly smiling at him.

“W-What? You want me to…are you sure? Why?” he stammers.

“Because I trust you. Thomas may no longer see you as Self Preservation as much as he used to, but I still do. I need you to promise me you will guide them and protect them.”

“I don’t know if I can…”

Romulus smiles softly.

“You can. Why don’t we make it a Royal Promise?” he suggests.

“R-Royal Promise? What is that?” Janus asks.

Romulus takes the crown and holds it above the yellow side’s head.

“A strong promise that is guaranteed to be never broken. If it is, the one who made it will be in pain until they fix it. I know it sounds like it’s meant for royals so today, you’re an honorary royal, Janus.” he explains.

Janus sniffs, a tear rolling down over his scales.

“Y-You really trust me?”

“Of course I do, my dear friend.” Romulus nods.

Janus looks at his King, knowing he would never see him here again and nods. Whoever becomes the new Creativity, Janus will make sure they won’t be lost to Morality again. So, Janus holds the crown over his head and smiles tearfully at Romulus as the sun vanishes below the horizon.

“I, Janus Sanders, Royal Promise, my King.”

“And when you both manifested, I did my best to keep that promise. Sure, I had my failures, but I intended to keep it for as long as I can, wanting to make sure I didn’t lose you both either.” Janus finishes.

The twins are quiet before Remus tackles Janus into a hug. Roman follows a moment later. They’re both glad Janus took them in. Sure, Morality was…kind and doing his best to look after them but Janus just understood them better. Now, they knew why.

“Thank you, Janus. For that.” Remus whispers.

Roman sniffles and nods.

“Yes, thank you. For keeping us safe. For telling us this.”

The twins then pull away, Remus rubbing his face to get rid of the tears.

“Would it be okay if we kept making Royal Promises? We’ll only use it for important things.” Roman asks.

Janus nods, wiping Roman’s tears away.

“Of course, Roman. It was always yours and Remus’ to make whenever you need it.”

Before Roman can thank Janus, the tree rustles and an apple falls from the branches into Janus’ hands.

Janus chuckles, smiling up at the tree as the twins gaze in surprise.

“Thank you, old friend. I assure you, I’m still keeping my Royal Promise.”

This time, as the sun sets, Janus sits with twins and smiles. As long as he was here, they wouldn’t be going anywhere. They would never be separate, and they would be safe under his guidance. Promise or not, Janus intends to make sure Creativity would stay strong. Even as two halves. It’s his royal promise to the King and the twins after all.

THE END

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #janus sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders angst #remus sanders angst #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #ts fics #tw nightmares #tw thunderstorms #unintentionally u!sides #tw slight u!sides #u!patton #u!logan #creativitwins angst

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rataticaisdreaming · 7 months

Text

day 2 - fusion @intrualityweek

Summary: When Remus and Patton can’t stop fighting, the mind decides to give them a chance to be in each other's shoes.

Pairing: Platonic Intruality (he/him for both)

Word Count: 1397

Warnings: Verbal fights / Hurt/Comfort / Intrusive thoughts / Remus being Remus / Cursing / Mention of sex

“Those are awful things, Remus! You should think of more cheerful… innocent stuff!"

"Oh yeah, because everyone wants to live in Care-A-Lot, daddy-o."

It has been like this for weeks now. Patton getting more and more distressed at Remus’ outbursts, which have been more common ever since the last major issue Thomas faced. Their fights seemed personal and within their own bubble, seeing as they were right next to each other. Janus and Roman had no problem ignoring them, it was so childish and unnecessary that not even Virgil was affected by this. It was getting annoying though. Once everyone left those two to bicker alone, Patton frowned and sank down to his room. The duke was so unsettling! It wasn't so difficult to keep your thoughts to yourself and keep things nice and decent.

Throwing himself to the stuffie filled couch, he reached for an old blanket and his Tender Heart teddy bear. A wave of sadness filled him, tears silently fell from his cheeks into the blanket he was holding so close. Everything felt like too much.

He hated arguments so much. The loud voices and negative feelings made him feel so small and overwhelmed. The need to just get out, get out, get out. How he closed his eyes and just prayed the tears wouldn't come out, this is not the time for big emotions. He just wanted to hide and make the feelings go away.

━

Well, fuck him. There he goes again with his big mouth and inability to just shut the fuck up!

No one wants to hear you anyways.

He is trying! He really is! Just spit out the mild ones so his head guts will be at ease until he comes back to his room. That’s exactly what he did… then why was today so difficult?!

You were never meant to be one of them.

And why the fuck is his brain not shutting the fuck up?! He just wanted some rest for God's sake.

You should impale yourself with the bed's wooden poles.

Just get in a onesie, what if you get tangled up and suffocate?

Get in bed and under the blankets, you should have hate sex with the others.

Hug your emotional support octopus stuffie and feel them hug you back… oh, the ways they could crush you to death.

Just close your eyes… It will be okay in the morning.

Except it won't be. It will be this over, and over, and over again until you die. Alone and in pain and no one will care about you…

━

"We need Patton. It's clear to me this issue needs his emotional expertise."

A quick hand gesture is all Logan needed to make the moral side rise in his spot. Eyes shut tight and in clear distress, softly bouncing on his heels.

"Sorry kiddo, your old man just needed a little rest. Felt more tired than a hooker after an orgy."

What… in the world?

The room falls silent and everyone is suddenly looking at him. Roman and Virgil look at each other stunned, eyes so big they seem ready to pop out. Janus scoffs in disbelief, like he finally heard how much of a petty bitch he is. Logan adjusts his tie, looking down at the floor, maybe he’ll find his worth somewhere in the dust. Thomas looks like he just saw a puppy being shot in front of him.

Wow, this little mind of his is not slowing down, is it?

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I didn't know why I said that… must be reaaally out of it! Maybe I just need some coffee and breakfast to get myself back on track." he said, awkwardly tiptoeing his way to the kitchen.

No one knew how to react to what just happened, so Roman spoke first.

“Maybe all that time with my brother is messing with him, speaking of him.” he said as he summoned Remus with an annoyed frown “Where is my copy of Princess and the Frog?”

Remus rose in his spot and stared at his twin like a deer in headlights, after a few seconds, he answered.

“I'm pretty sure I placed it back on the shelf.” he said, timidly hugging himself.

“Well, it's not there!”

The escalating tone made Remus flinch and look away, that seemed to be the wrong thing, because Roman spoke again.

“I swear in the holy name of Julie Andrews, Remus, if you did something to it…"

"I promise I didn't! I- I'm sure I placed it on the shelf, maybe I can help you find it! Just… Please lower your tone."

Roman was taken back by his response, his brother looked on the verge of tears. He has never seen the duke express himself like that. Weirded out was an understatement,

Before he could say anything, Patton came back and…

"Well, I can safely say the dishwasher liquid does not, in fact, taste like lemon and oranges."

Something was wrong.

━

"You will not leave this couch until you figure out what happened, do I make myself clear?"

It had been ten minutes since Logan left them there. Ten full minutes of distressed bouncing on his seat, eyes shut as he tried his hardest not to voice his thoughts. After what felt like an hour, Patton couldn’t take it anymore.

"Remus, all these thoughts… are they yours?" he said in a small voice Remus barely heard. "They are horrible…"

“I know they are!” he yelled, causing Patton to flinch. Upon seeing the reaction, the creative side broke down.

"I hate all of this! It all feels like too much!”

Patton’s knowing smile made him feel warm and troubled. A question popped into his head. He scooched over a little bit and started to fidget with his sparkly sleeves.

“Do you feel like this all the time?"

Patton looked up and sighed.

"Mhm"

"Do you get these thoughts all the time?"

Remus looked up with slightly red eyes.

"Yeah…"

"I never realized how much pain you were actually in… I thought you said those things to annoy us…" he started, receiving a soft laugh from the duke "But they are like a swarm! I need- I need them out!"

“Shh, it's okay. They will calm down, here, tug this string."

The moral side did with a tired hand, when he let go, a soft “quack” came out of nowhere. A tiny duck dropped from the air into his lap.

"Heh… And where did this little guy come from?"

“Little gift.”

A small giggle escaped from Patton’s lips and he changed his posture, visibly calmer and less tense. After working some courage, Remus decided to speak as well.

"I never knew you were feeling this much… It's suffocating. Every emotion feels fucking intense and it hurts! How do you live like this?"

"I just do… Comes with being the heart, I guess. My room helps me, it calms me down when it gets too much."

"Huh. Do you think I could… hang out there sometime?"

"Sure! Janus and Logan have been very insisting on the whole "finding a distraction" thing. We could do a puzzle together or watch a show."

"Yeah… I'd like that."

━

It has been like this for weeks now. Remus learning to use his inner voice, mindful of how loud noises impact the other’s emotions. Patton started to listen to Remus' ideas and ignored the ones that were plainly intrusive thoughts.

By the end of an afternoon discussion, they were already looking at each other in anticipation.

They sank down and arrived at Patton's living room. There was an unfinished puzzle on the coffee table as well as board game boxes laying on the side of it. Remus picked the neon green notebook and glitter pen and sat down next to the moral side.

They summoned popcorn, sodas and m&ms. Even some lemon slices for Remus. Whenever he got unwanted thoughts, he would write them down. Patton would hug his teddy bear, as a silent sign that they needed to slow down for a bit, when the emotions got too intense.

It was working for them. They also made a mental note to never anger the mind again. It would be fantastic to see Roman get all of Virgil's anxiety, but Remus was a good brother and decided to write that thought down for now.

#rat's fic #rataticaisdreaming #nothing like a fic that was written at midnight 😌✨#will probably revisit this one 🤔#really want to explore this idea further #sanders sides #remus sanders #patton sanders #intruality #intrualityweek2023 #intrualityweek #intruality week #sanders sides fanfiction

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authorgirl0131 · 5 months

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Chase The Cold Away

When Janus gets back to the dark side of the mind palace, he assumes this is going to be another Christmas spent alone and cold. His boyfriends, Virgil and Roman, won't let that happen.

@prince-rowan-of-the-forest, here it is! Sorry it's so late. @sanderssidesgiftxchange

Yet another Christmas Eve Janus knew he was going to spend freezing.

He kicked the door to the Dark side of the mind palace closed to keep the worst of the wind out, cursing Remus for insisting the snow be realistically cold. They were all constructs in a mental realm, why on Earth did they have to listen to the rules of nature? Especially when one of those rules made going outside such an ordeal?

Despite his shivering and his exhaustion, he managed to take his boots and outer layers off at the door and put them in the right places before he all but sprinted up to his room, where his heated bed was waiting for him. He’d spend the rest of his night under a heated blanket on top of a heated bed to keep the cold at bay.

It wasn’t like he had anything else to do.

Remus would be with the Light sides this year, finally enjoying his mending relationship with his brother at their family Christmas. Janus was happy for him, of course. Esthatic, even. Nevermind that he hadn’t been invited. Nevermind that his loves, Roman and Virgil, would be spending their Christmas at an event they couldn’t bother to invite him to. Nevermind that Janus would be spending his Christmas completely and utterly alone. It was fine.

Everything was fine.

Where was Janus?

Virgil had spent the past few hours at the Christmas party getting progressively antsier, anxiously eyeing the door to the Dark half of the mind palace. His gift from Roman, a dark purple silicon feather chew necklace, quickly found use, him worrying it over his lips at his eyes kept returning to the only undisturbed pile of presents under the tree, the ones for Janus. The party was nearly over, but the snake side still hadn’t made his appearance. Why? Was he sick? He knew Janus had been outside earlier, had the cold-blooded side overdone it and hurt himself?

As the party started to wind down and Virgil’s anxiety started to hit a fever pitch, Roman finally found the opportunity to squeeze the anxious side’s free hand. “Go check on Janus, love.” Despite the worry Virgil could feel Roman hiding, the creative side smiled jokingly. “He still has to open one of his presents.”

Thank the gods.

After giving Roman a quick kiss, Virgil sank out to Janus’s room.

“Janus?”

Virgil’s beautiful voice woke Janus just as he was starting to drift off. He couldn’t find it in himself to even pretend to be frustrated as he turned over to see the emo standing in his room, clearly having teleported instead of using the door. Maybe he was just cold and tired, but he’d never been happier to see someone.

Seeing he was awake, Virgil sat on the bed with a small smile. “Hey there, Snake-Face. Cold?”

“You have no idea.” The heated blanket and heating pad hadn’t yet managed to get the cold from earlier out of his bones.

“That why you weren’t at the party?” Virgil laid down as Janus scooted back to make room for him, slipping under the blankets to hug Janus tightly.

Janus frowned even as he got as close to Virgil as possible, enjoying his boyfriend’s warmth. “I wasn’t invited.”

“Wasn’t invited?” Virgil repeated, confused. “Of course you were invited, Jay. Did you seriously think we were planning a party you weren’t allowed to join right in front of you?”

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised, my dark and stormy Knight,” Both of them flinched in surprise at Roman’s voice, warm with affection and rich with amusement. Virgil pat the space behind Janus on the bed, inviting Roman to join them. Roman quickly moved to do so, laying behind Janus and wrapping his long, strong arms around both of them, pulling them close. “You thought the same thing for two years. I guess we learned nothing-” Roman smiled apologetically into Janus’s hair, “As we forgot again to make it clear that someone was invited.”

“I was invited?” Even though he couldn’t really believe it, Janus felt warm joy flood his chest. He hadn’t been forgotten, they’d just assumed he knew.

“Of course you were, dear.” Roman hugged the two tighter, sandwiching Janus between the two in the best way. The warmth was chasing the cold away, their love chasing away the upset he hadn’t been letting himself feel. “You’re always welcome to join us.”

“We can talk about it later,” Virgil promised, bringing one hand down to squeeze Janus’s hip. “For now, I think our Janus needs some sleep.”

He did. He’d been pushing himself these past few days, contributing to a Christmas party he’d thought he wasn’t allowed to attend. Now, after the cold and the warmth that now chased the chill out of his bones, he could barely keep his eyes open. He sighed happily, aching eyes finally slipping closed. “Keep me warm?”

Virgil pressed a small kiss to the top of Janus’s head as Roman squeezed the two again. “Always.”

#sanderssidesgiftexchange #shut up aaron #long post #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #my writing #janus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #anaroceit #i haven't written this fandom in so long

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candied-peach · 5 months

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ao3: "gag gifts" rating: T warnings: moceit, dukeceit, platonic intruality, remus typical humor, food mention genre: fluff description: Patton loves his gift so much, he wants to spread the Christmas cheer a little further this year.

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse...

Just a happy pappy father figment, Patton thinks, creeping over to the door that separates the dark sides' living area and looking at it. Roman added a yellow crisscross of caution tape to it at some point, but the tape is peeling, and 'Juicy Ass' has been added to it in acid green marker. He has three tubes of different Christmas wrapping paper under one arm, a variety of cardboard boxes stuffed into a bigger box under the other, and his heart is pounding so loud, he thinks it's a miracle no one has come out of their rooms to investigate the ruckus. Logan is busy trying to solve Virgil's puzzle, Roman is most likely listening to Christmas carols in his own room or perhaps putting the finishing touches on a winter wonderland in the Imagination, and Patton already checked on Virgil earlier- he's fallen asleep early, with his headphones in, emo music filtering out into the air.

He juggles everything to open the door, wincing when the hinges creak. Dim light spills out, what looks like the glow of Christmas lights in rainbow colors. Despite himself, Patton feels a twinge of curiosity. He's never seen what it looks like when the others decorate for Christmas. Hadn't really paid much thought to it before. It shouldn't surprise him, but a little squeak escapes when he reaches the first garland of lights and realizes all the light bulbs are actually shaped like dicks. Red spreads across his face like a stain. Clearly Remus's touch.

"Whatcha doin', Daddy?" Remus breathes into Patton's ear, suddenly right behind him, and Patton nearly screams as he whirls around, dropping the tubes of wrapping paper. Remus doesn't look apologetic at all.

"Remus!" Patton hisses. "You startled me!"

"I know," Remus says. His eyes nearly glow poison green in the dark. Bioluminescence. His grin is just a little too wide. "And I repeat, whatcha doin', Daddy-O?"

"I just-" Patton sighs. "Is Janus asleep?"

"Yep," Remus answers. "Why? Didja wanna put something in his bed?" His eyes gleam, much like his teeth. "I can help ya if you want, but only if it's dangerous!"

"No," Patton blurts out. The side in front of him almost looks disappointed. "No, I just- I wanted-" Patton huffs a sigh, bending down and retrieving the wrapping paper. "I wanted to return the favor," he admits. "His gift really- really tickled my funny bone, and the card was sweet, and I just-" Patton fumbles for a moment, before tilting the cavalcade of boxes so Remus can see the homemade cards nestled inside.

"I wanted to make him a little gag gift of his own," Patton says. "And leave it down here. Is- is that okay?" He feels like holding his breath, waiting for Remus's response. Luckily, it's not long in coming.

"Yeah, sure!" Remus agrees, willingly enough. "Ya know, you could have wrapped it all over there." Patton flushes crimson. In all the subterfuge he had been plotting, he...hadn't considered that.

"Lemme help," Remus pleads. "I can make the boxes different shapes! To confuse him more!"

"Okay," Patton says, as Remus grabs his shoulder and tugs him over to a ratty plaid-patterned couch that had more stains on it than Patton wanted to think about. Remus plops down on the thin carpet, hands held up for the boxes, and Patton grabs the cards out of the top box before handing them over. Remus raises an eyebrow when he notices that there are two, and Patton reddens again.

"For you, too," Patton says. "But you can't see until Christmas."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Remus says, agreeably enough. Patton doesn't trust it at all. When Remus looks down, chewing on a stray piece of cardboard, Patton tucks Remus's card under his shirt. Just for the time being.

Remus summons scissors and tape (the tape is strangely fuzzy the first time, until Patton pleads for a more normal one- Remus looks like he wants to argue until Patton admits in a quiet voice it's a sensory thing, and then he gets new tape without blinking), and they spend a surprisingly amenable time together, arranging and rearranging present boxes until the final product looks like Janus is unwrapping a vacuum cleaner.

"Here ya go," Remus says, handing Patton a second box. This one is shaped like a trashcan and already wrapped. "For my card."

"Thank you, but I-" Patton pauses, patting the front of his shirt. The card is gone. He blinks at Remus, astonished. "How did you-"

Remus grins.

"That's for me to know and you to find out!" He singsongs, cackling to himself. "Nighty night, Pattycake!"

"Good night," Patton says, climbing to his feet with the help of one of Remus's surprisingly hot hands. He finds himself smiling. "Thank you for your help, Remus. You'll- you'll make sure Janus gets it, right?"

"Of course! What do you take me for?" Remus asks, mock offended as he puts a hand to his heart. He tilts his head impossibly far to one side. "Oh! Oh, Janny's awake!"

"Oh!" Patton exclaims. He attempts to bolt out of the living room, only to run smack into the side in question. Janus blinks, staring down at Patton's sprawled form with sleep-blurred eyes.

"Patton?" Janus asks, his voice raspy and addled with fatigue. He's still wearing his Christmas sweater, but he's added snake-patterned pajama pants to the ensemble, and to Patton's slight surprise, he is wearing the socks Roman gave him. "What are you doing here?" He offers a hand to help Patton up, and Patton realizes that he's not wearing his gloves.

"Helping me!" Remus chimes in brightly. "Come on, Jan Jan, we gotcha somethin'!"

"Perish the thought," Janus says dryly, as Remus plants a sloppy, enthusiastic kiss on Janus's scaled cheek. "Thank you. What do you mean?"

"Look!" Remus giggles, pointing at the vacuum-shaped box. Janus's eyebrow raises. Patton flushes red, as both Janus and Remus tow him forward. He finds himself coaxed back onto the couch, surrounded by the pair.

"Whatever could it be," Janus muses, as he reads the tag. "To Janus, from Patton (Remus helped!) Patton, why did you-?" He turns a little, surprised, and Patton just motions toward the gift.

"Go on," Patton encourages, his mouth a little dry. His face is still flushed, and his heart feels a little fluttery. Janus looks very pretty in the dim light.

"Is it...a vacuum?" Janus asks, delicately unpeeling the paper.

"No," Remus nearly shouts, cackling again. "Try again, Janny!"

The next box shouldn't be possible, but it is shaped like a canoe. Janus blinks at it, then grins.

"Oh, I see," Janus says, turning slightly to Patton. "Have you gotten me back then?"

"Maybe," Patton says, trying to sound innocent. "I don't know. Maybe you should keep opening them."

Improbable sizes and shapes slip past in a flurry of Christmas-themed wrapping paper, and Patton is enraptured by Janus's soft laughter and sparkling eyes. Remus refuses to unwrap his own until Janus is down to his own actual card.

"Oh, Patton," Janus says softly when he's finally holding the holiday card, carefully crayoned two-headed snake sprawled across the front. "Thank you."

"Merry Christmas, Janus," Patton murmurs, feeling like he's full of fizzy bubbles.

"Patton!" Remus exclaims, having finally torn the wrapping paper off his own. "You kraken me up, too!" He grins, holding up the card covered in cephalopod puns. Patton had asked Virgil several veiled, completely obvious questions about what Remus had ever showed interest in.

"Would you like to join everyone for breakfast?" Patton asks. "I could make pancakes...?" For a moment, Janus looks like he is going to decline, and Patton feels disappointment weigh down his stomach.

"Why not?" Janus gives in gracefully. "Don't let Remus near the syrup."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Patton promises. To his surprise, he finds Janus's arm settling itself around his shoulders.

"Is this okay?" Janus asks, nervous. Patton beams.

"Of course, Janus," he says. The Christmas dick lights twinkle down on them as Remus springs up from the couch and disappears for a moment.

"Oh, Janny-" Remus starts, running back in.

"You are not putting mistletoe over us," Janus interrupts. Patton tries not to feel a tiny bit disappointed at that.

"You're no fun," Remus pouts. "Fine. Over me instead?" He puts a sprig of mistletoe over his head and wiggles his shoulders in a shimmy. Janus laughs.

"Fine," he says, and tugs Remus down to kiss his cheek.

Patton leans his head against Janus's shoulder, tired from staying up so long.

"Merry Christmas, Patton," Janus says quietly, as Patton's awareness starts to slip away. "I'll wake you up before breakfast, I promise."

#🍬.txt #sanders sides #moceit #dukeceit #platonic intruality #patton sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #patton #janus #remus #christmas #sanders sides fic #ok to rb #peach writes #📚

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twoidiotwriters1 · 23 days

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The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: I think it's so funny this chapter comes out on Mother's day (México) -Danny Words: 2,407 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Call Your Mom' -by Noah Kahan ft. Lizzy McAlpine

LI: I’m Currently Having the Worst Time of My Life, Thanks for Asking!

One thing about demigods is they will expose their trauma to the room. And if Ara's dad was her monster under the bed, Jason's mother was his Roman Empire (pun intended). All he ever did was based on the one lie she'd told him when he was a toddler.

"So pleased to meet you, son of Jupiter," Antinous smiles. "Listen to your mother. You have many grievances against the gods. Why not join us? I gather these serving girls are your friends? We will spare them. You wish to have your mother remain in the world? We can do that. You wish to be a king—"

"No. No, I don't belong with you." Jason replies in a dazzled state.

"Are you so sure, my fellow praetor?" The son of Janus asks. "Even if you defeat the giants and Gaia, would you return home like Odysseus did? Where is your home now? With the Greeks? With the Romans? No one will accept you. And, if you get back, who's to say you won't find ruins like this?"

"That's a lie," Ara steps in.

Jason raises a hand to stop her and replies to the other boy. "You were a legion officer—A leader of Rome."

"So were you. Loyalties change."

"You think I belong with this crowd? A bunch of dead losers waiting for a free handout from Gaia, whining that the world owes them something?"

The crowd closes around him. Piper uses charmspeak. "Beware! Every man in this palace is your enemy. Each one will stab you in the back at the first chance!"

"Dearest, be sensible," Jason's mother insists. "Give up your quest. Your Argo II could never make the trip to Athens. Even if it did, there's the matter of the Athena Parthenos."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't feign ignorance, my dearest. Gaia knows about your friend Reyna and Nico the son of Hades and the satyr Hedge. To kill them, the Earth Mother has sent her most dangerous son—the hunter who never rests. But you don't have to die."

Jason looks at the girls, then back at his mother. "What do you want? What brought you here?"

"I want life! Youth! Beauty!" The woman leans in looking crazy. "Your father could have made me immortal. He could have taken me to Olympus, but he abandoned me. You can set things right, Jason. You are my proud warrior!"

"You're a mania," his voice quivers. "A spirit of insanity. That's what you've been reduced to."

"I am all that remains. Embrace me, son. I am all you have left."

"No!" Jason steps back. "My loyalties haven't changed. My family has just expanded. I'm a child of Greece and Rome. I'm no child of yours." He makes the claw sign over his chest and his mother vanishes.

"Well, then," Antinous sighs. "I suppose we'll just kill you."

Ara tosses the platter she's holding at some ghouls, expands her shield, and draws out Almighty. Her friends join her and pull out their weapons. Watching Jason fight when angry, is one of Ara's favorite things. He throws amazing one-liners, like the one he uses when he pierces Antinous through the chest: "Enjoy the Fields of Punishment."

Jason and Ara run through their opponents fast and mercilessly, with clear progress in their teamwork after eight months of knowing each other. The boy summons lightning while Ara keeps changing her weapon to different things, Annabeth jabs and beheads, and Piper tosses food at the spirits while shouting stuff using charmspeak.

Jason lowers his sword only a second and Michael Varus stabs him with rage before Piper kills him. Ara drops Almighty in shock. Piper tries to pull out the sword but Ara shouts at her in a commanding voice. "Don't! That'll make him bleed out faster!"

"But—"

"Gods..." Annabeth gets to them, pale and shaky. "Oh, gods."

"Thanks," Jason sinks to his knees. "I was afraid it might be bad."

"Piper, press around the wound—Annabeth, get help."

"You're going to be fine," Piper tells the boy. "Girls, ambrosia!"

Ara draws her Octopi from under her cloak and hands it to Piper. "Don't do anything yet, hang on—"

"Imperial gold," Annabeth stammers. "It's deadly to demigods. It's only a matter of time before—"

"The Argo!" Ara urges her. "Send them a message!"

"Iris messages won't work—"

"Leo is watching, you don't need those!"

"Morse code," Piper pulls out a tiny mirror from Ara's Octopi and hands it to Annabeth. "Here."

Ara grabs her sister's head and kisses the top of it. "Clever!"

Annabeth goes away and Ara tries to ignore how Jason's looking as she kneels before him. "How many times I've saved your ass, Jay-G?"

"Don't call me that," Jason grunts. "And the answer is too many."

"You have no survival instincts man, I keep telling you," Ara rips his shirt open and sees the tip of the sword protruding from his abdomen. Fear starts to seep through. "He's not coughing blood so no organs were touched... maybe. This will hurt, blondie." She looks at Piper. "Pull it out."

Piper pretends she'll count to three, and pulls it at one. Jason crumbles swearing like he's never done before.

"We gotta stop the bleeding," Ara stops him from squirming too much.

The girls rip parts of their dresses and press them against both sides of his wound. Ara sings her heart out, and now Piper knows the healing tune, so Ara hears her singing voice for the first time, which is much nicer than hers and therefore more effective.

"Keep singing!" Ara makes her old mixture of ambrosia and nectar, but there's no time to wait, so she pours it raw over the wounds. "Hang in there, Jason, don't fall asleep."

The boy barely reacts, which is not a good sign. Piper rolls him over and pours the rest at the other end of the wound. Ara tries to keep him awake and cradles his face. "You know, for a moment I feared my dad would show up but I guess he prefers to stay dead. At least your mother kind of loved you!" She jokes, but her voice falters.

Jason shakes his head. "It wasn't a part of her I could save. Don't count your blessings, Birdy, your dad might be waiting for you in Athens."

"And I'm sure you'd like to meet him so you can personally kick his ass, so keep your eyes open!" Ara searches through her Octopi bag, smearing blood on it, and pulls out bandages to keep the pieces of fabric in place. "Annabeth!" She calls anxiously.

Jason sits up groggily. "Maybe I could fly ..."

"Don't move!" Ara says sharply. "Gee, you get hit on the head multiple times and—"

"Shut up!" Jason scowls. "Gods, kind of wish I had died so you would drop the joke already..." It's the first time the boy snaps in such a way, so he must be in a lot of pain. Pain is good, it means his body is still responsive.

Ara laughs despite how frightened she is and Jason matches her grin. "Yeah, at least it wasn't a head injury this time, huh? I stayed conscious the entire fight..."

"You defeated, like, two hundred enemies," Piper kisses his temple, keeping pressure on his wound. "You were scary amazing."

"You guys helped."

"You're welcome," Ara nods solemnly. "If you're lucky this will make Leo stop switching your camp shirts with Hazel's."

"I knew it! I should anoint Nico as my new best friend..." Jason winces. "Oh gods—Reyna, Nico, and Coach Hedge, they're in danger. We need to warn them."

"We'll take care of it when we get back to the ship," Piper eases him. "Your job right now is to relax. Besides, those three are a tough group. They'll be fine."

"Fuck!" Ara exclaims. Jason's injury has dark smoke coming out of it. "The stupid lullaby isn't working!"

"Ara," Piper says in a careful tone. "You need to stay calm."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," she holds Jason's hand, trying to absorb something, but nothing comes out. "Look at me, tough guy," she snaps her fingers, but Jason's dilated pupils hardly focus on her face and she swallows a cry. "Jason, please, don't do this to me..."

"Annabeth's coming back," Piper announces.

The girl walks up to them dragging her foot. Jason looks at her with half-lidded eyes, he's getting weaker. "Are you hurt?"

"It's fine. Just the old break from the Roman caverns. Sometimes when I'm stressed... That's not important. I signalled Leo. Frank's going to change form, fly up here and carry you back to the ship. I need to make a litter to keep you stable."

Annabeth and Ara work together, the younger girl passes the materials while Annabeth weaves. "How are you doing that?" Jason asks in awe.

"Learned it during my quest under Rome," Annabeth mumbles completely focused on the task. "I'd never had a reason to try weaving before, but it's handy for certain things, like getting away from spiders..."

Ara turns Almighty into a rectangular shield (the one Leo made is circular and wouldn't support Jason's body properly) and places it above the harness made with pieces of cloth and leather straps. Ara stands on it and pulls.

"Sturdy enough," she steps out.

"Wait," Jason stops them. "A bed—There was a special bed in this palace."

Ara frowns. "So what?"

"The marriage bed was sacred. If there was any place you could talk to Juno... Juno!"

Ara only cares about getting him out, but then in the distance, an olive tree spurts out into view. "Great, we definitely should waste our time talking..." She groans.

"My heroes," Juno greets them.

"Hera," Piper mutters.

"Juno."

"Whatever," Annabeth scowls. "What are you doing here, Your Bovine Majesty?"

"Annabeth Chase. As charming as ever."

"Yeah, well, I just got back from Tartarus, so my manners are a little rusty, especially towards goddesses who wiped my boyfriend's memory, made him disappear for months and then—"

"Honestly, child. Are we going to rehash this again?"

"Aren't you supposed to be suffering from split-personality disorder? I mean—more so than usual?"

"Whoa," Jason tries to sit up and fails. "Juno, we need your help. We—" he makes a guttural noise and falls back.

"First things first," Piper says firmly. "Jason is hurt. Heal him!"

"Some things even the gods cannot heal," the goddess raises a brow. "This wound touches your soul as well as your body. You must fight it, Jason Grace... you must survive."

"Yeah, thanks... I'm trying," he pants.

"That was super helpful," Ara remarks. "But if you could please just give us more intel..."

"I am grateful that you called upon me. I have spent weeks in a state of pain and confusion... my Greek and Roman natures warring against each other. Worse, I've been forced to hide from Jupiter, who searches for me in his misguided wrath, believing that I caused this war with Gaia."

"Gee, why would he think that?" Annabeth taunts her.

"Fortunately, this place is sacred to me," the goddess ignores her. "By clearing away those ghosts, you have purified it and given me a moment of clarity. I will be able to speak with you—if only briefly."

"Why is it sacred...? Oh. The marriage bed!" Piper exclaims.

"Marriage bed? I don't see any—"

"The bed of Penelope and Odysseus. One of its bedposts was a living olive tree, so it could never be moved."

"Who cares?" Ara exclaims impatiently. "Lady Juno, please!"

"Sail around the Peloponnese. As you suspect, that is the only possible route. On your way, seek out the goddess of victory in Olympia. She is out of control. Unless you can subdue her, the rift between Greek and Roman can never be healed."

"You mean Nike?" Annabeth frowns. "How is she out of control?"

"Explaining would take too long. I must flee before Jupiter finds me. Once I leave, I will not be able to help you again."

"What else should we know?" Jason asks hoarsely.

"As you heard, the giants have gathered in Athens. Few gods will be able to help you on your journey, but I am not the only Olympian who is out of favor with Jupiter. The twins have also incurred his wrath."

"Artemis and Apollo? Why?"

"If you reach the island of Delos, they might be prepared to help you. They are desperate enough to try anything to make amends. Go now. Perhaps we will meet again in Athens, if you succeed. If you do not..."

Juno vanishes and Jason faints.

Ara takes her friend straight to the sickbay and does her best to bring him back, she gets more blood on her clothes but in the end, the dark smoke diminishes. Jason is sleeping now, but he looks dead and ironically that makes her want to kill something.

Piper says she'll call the others for a meeting, but Ara suspects she just wants a moment alone to cry the stress out and pick herself up. Ara should've kept an eye on Michael Varus.

Someone knocks on the door and when she turns she spots Leo staring at her with worry. "Is that..."

"It's his." Her eyes brim with tears and Leo approaches her quickly. Ara releases all of that pent-up anxiety, burying her face in his curls as he wraps his arms around her waist. "I couldn't absorb his pain, he's dying..."

Leo hushes her. "He's with us, he'll be okay."

She tries to keep him away when he tries to hug her tighter. "I'm covered in blood—"

"That's okay," the boy keeps her in place. "We can wash up later."

Her grip is weak. "Juno said something about Apollo, maybe we can—"

"Shut up," Leo stares at her as if searching for something. Ara waits in confusion. The boy strokes her cheek, outlining the dry blood on her skin. "What are you feeling?"

The girl blinks. "What?"

"Eros said you needed to reconnect with your emotions, right? So before you go back to being a General, talk about your feelings," he raises his brows. "So?"

Ara blushes at his sweet gesture. "I'm scared and remorseful, but I'll have to push through it, I can't change the past."

"You sure you don't wanna call your dad?" He tries to joke. "We can make a short stop at the next gas station and give him a call."

Ara pouts and sniffs. "Man, don't even... if I think about home I'll be sobbing like a baby for another hour."

Leo looks at her not knowing what to do to help her, then sighs. "My guy Jason... always gets the worst deal, huh?" He makes a face. "I'll have to fix the showerheads."

The girl senses his awkwardness and smiles softly, leaning into his touch. "Do you know how much I love you?"

He visibly relaxes and grins. "Can't hurt if you say it again, can it?"

"I love you," she kisses his forehead. "A lot."

"Love ya' too, doll... But you reek like a butcher, go get a shower."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #leo valdez fanfic #doo #leo valdez x oc #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

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greenninjagal-blog · 11 months

Text

Deja Vu pt 11

Alright! Let’s do this!

If you’re new around here you can find the first chapter [here] or if you just want a refresher you can find the previous chapter [here!]

Summary: Like most plans Remus and Janus’s have, this one starts off really great!

Word Count: 13351

Read on Ao3 || Hero Worship Series || My General Writing Masterlist

“I fucking hate you,” Virgil snarls under his breath, as Remus (lightly) shoves him in the direction he needs to walk. He’d given up kicking and screaming about seven blocks and ten subway stops ago, after Remus had (not lightly) acquainted a concerned citizen who had stopped them with his fist, but Remus thinks he might have still been (very not lightly) biting out of sheer spite , if it weren’t for the cute little face mask Remus shoved on his face before manhandling the reporter out of his own apartment.

“You and Janus can rot in fucking hell together, assholes!”

“I love when you talk dirty to me, honey,” Remus says to him, grinning with all his teeth on display, sharp and pointed and freshly brushed with Virgil’s own shitty Aquafresh toothpaste that tasted like every type of bad mint flavor put together as a brilliant new torture method. “Now keep quiet and be more scared.”

“I should have just fucking killed you, you motherfucking, insane— ”

Remus pinches him sharply in the side as a warning and his clever and completely accurate description yelps off into some even more creative swears.

Honestly, Remus would have loved to hear the rest of Virgil’s thoughts about him. It had been interesting to watch Virgil lose every ounce of his respect for Remus as Janus had started laying out the details of his plan; Interesting in the same way Remus thinks that watching someone perform an autopsy on his still-living body might be interesting, in the way that being buried alive in wet cement might be interesting, in the way that naming each piranha that takes a bite out of his limbs migh13t be interesting.

As far as plans that Janus had, this was shaping up to be one of Remus’s favorites already. The details were tedious and extensive, much more than Janus’s plans usually were, although with the way that Janus kept glancing at Remus throughout it Remus could understand why he was going so overboard with their timeline and plannings. The usual safety net they operated with (aka Remus’s fucked up power) was showing to have some decently large holes in it and those weren’t just put there with Roman’s shitty Probability scam.

Virgil’s face had gone from pale to deathly pale to walking corpse pale in the matter of minutes.

Apparently not only watching Remus nod along to Fun Ideas, but also listening to Remus contribute to what is Absolutely the Best Idea They Have Ever Had was where Virgil had drawn his line in the sand and refused to cross it. But that was okay.

Virgil’s role did not exactly include him needing to be cooperative with it. Which Janus had planned for. Because he was amazing and Remus was in love.

And while part of Remus (the same part that still loved Roman for no reason, the same part that urged him to call his mother no matter how much it would hurt, the same part that was very clearly sadistic and wanted him dead in the slowest most painful ways) was rejoicing at things going back to normal, the vast majority of his psyche that wasn’t already busy swooning over how normal Janus had looked waking up in the bed next to Remus, was mourning the loss of that good happy ending for him, Janus, and Virgil that had almost seemed possible for a whole, entire second.

Remus kinda hates himself for thinking it could have been a thing, for scanning through Janus’s face to wonder if he also felt like they had taken all the wrong turns and missed the exit to that future where Virgil stays with them, chooses them, believes that together they have something that’s worth all the scary parts for.

“Remus— Remus wait— please you don’t have to do this— ” Virgil starts again, barely more than a murmur over the crowd that is around the target building. He digs his heels into the ground, but Remus just drags him along, elbowing their way through the thickets of people that apparently have nowhere else better to be and nothing better to do than gawk. The cameras are flashing, reporters from all the local news stations and a few national ones talking over each other, poster wavers protesting and applauding just about everything that can be protested and applauded, and despite it all, no one stops Remus or Virgil.

No one even looks at them twice.

“Listen to me, dickhead! There’s still time to turn back and tell Janus he can— ”

Remus’s skin feels like it might be radioactive, like he’s glowing, burning, bristling and boiling all at once and there’s not a single person who knows it. The last time he was in a crowd, it nearly killed him without anyone ever knowing what sort of things he could do, what sort of liar Roman could be, what sort of tragedy had bleed from their veins onto a car hood at 3AM.

The noise vibrates through his soul, into his bones, into his blood and it prickles the back of his neck in the way that a baby bird might get right before it’s sucked into the jet engine turbine of an economy class passenger plane.

He grips Virgil’s shoulder tightly, like a tether, pushing him along so that if Remus gets swallowed, Virgil will be right there with him. For better or worse or Death.

“Oh my god!” Someone right next to them says, her camera inches from Remus’s face, sparkly nails glittering in the rare sun, right as he gets near the front of the line— because there’s a fucking line, jeez— elbowing at least six people who didn’t have the brains to not be outside right now. “You’re that guy! Oh my god, you’re— !”

Last time he was in a crowd, they didn’t know who Remus was. This time the crowd is going to learn how to mind their fucking manners.

“Hey Roman!” Remus yells, dragging Virgil right in front of himself. “KNOCK KNOCK, MOTHER FUCKER!”

He gets maybe a second to see Roman’s face, the way his eyes jerk up on instinct at the sound of his name, the way that his mask hides most of his expression but not enough because he sees Remus and his mouth open in a rounded ‘o’ shape and his hand shifts to his rapier handle and, and, and.

And then Remus is shoving his boot into Virgil’s back and kicking his hostage directly in Roman, and sending them both through the propped open doors of the grand, sparkling Public Library that the FBE had commandeered.

“This party looks boring,” Remus says loud and clear and maybe a little too excited for the flashing cameras and the screaming fans and the fight as he stands at the top of the flight of old granite stairs. “Don’t worry, I brought some toys to spice it up!”

The news reporters surge like a tidal wave, the citizens stir up in the whirlpool of noise and signs. The police were already on site, keeping the nice little barrier between the building and the crowd so that brave souls could walk up to greet their grand hero, but the police saw Remus go toe-to-toe with Roman and everyone remembers that it ended with Remus holding a gun to Roman’s begging face.

The fear that wafts off them tastes like tear gas and his own burnt flesh.

Behind him, further in the building was already a commotion as Virgil hit the ground limbs tangled in Roman’s, scrambling away the best he can when his arms are tied behind his back with a truly insulting amount of duct tape—Janus had found it in one of the drawers in Virgil’s kitchen while Remus had held him down with a great deal more delight than he should have had. The tumble probably left him with spotted bruises, maybe a sprained wrist, but it doesn’t matter much because the farther back he tosses himself with reckless abandon leaves him crashing into Zeal as well.

Patton Hart. The name sounds made up, bizarre and foreign in the way that Remus can’t explain so matter how long he spends staring at the high school picture online. He looks like someone, and also like no one; a combination of every friend that had chosen Roman over Remus and somehow that makes Remus feel absolutely nothing at all.

Patton melds out of the bookshelves and crowd like some concerned civilian and not someone who would commit war crimes if he was told not to think too much about it. Virgil lands almost completely in Patton’s arms, throwing all his weight into him, because he figured out about twelve hours ago that Remus is far more insane than the heathen who wears socks with sandals and shoots down innocent people during a riot.

Roman barely manages to roll back to his feet before Remus is strolling towards him grinning in a way that makes the handful of privately hired guards that were “helping” provide security to such a high profile location train their guns on him. They’re stationed strategically around the building, in more places than Janus had predicted: four along the back wall flagging the large stained glass windows, three at the check-in counters with the “doctors” two on either side of the main doors and another two on the mezzanine level above. It’s enough to make people think twice about causing trouble. There were probably more in the conference rooms where the actual testing was going on but those weren’t Remus’s concern.

They would have...other problems soon if they weren’t already facing them now.

Just like Janus said, none of these hired guards would dare start the fight themselves; not without Roman acting first, not without certainty that Remus would go down without a problem.

And considering how the last fight almost ended (back before Remus had even a theory of what Roman’s power was), if Remus had been in their boots he’d be scared too. He’d be terrified of what a monster a Sibyl could be, what types of things they could know about him, what types of futures they’d woven out of existence. The fear would clot in his arteries until he was unable to so much as twitch his finger to pull the trigger.

“HELP! SOMEONE, HELP!” Virgil screams, hints of his sonic power turning the air to static around them. “HE’S GOT A BOMB!”

Oh, yeah. And there’s that too.

((Remus is twenty one. He’s seen people shriek over thousands of dollars worth of casino coins spilling across a playing table, seen people scream over a flambeed corpse exploding out of a jewelry shop without warning, seen people screech over a body falling from a balcony onto a car windshield at 3AM, seen people panic in a riot started on a stage by a careless superhero; and still somehow the pitch of the yelling and chaos nearly catches him off guard, reaching a crescendo that even violins in a classical symphony in a stolen car in a future that Remus didn’t choose failed to top.))

Roman stutters in his steps, unsure and doubtful and Remus shimmies his hands into the air, clearly showing off the one empty hand and the other very much full hand, spreading his jacket open so that everyone can see the vest he put together late last night, between pressing kisses into Janus’s mouth just because he could.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he says loudly and proudly and completely unhinged in every way that everyone who ever knew him had expected him to turn out. His hands aren’t shaking but he thinks they should be absolutely quivering with the urge to ruin the surprise before anyone’s properly had time to be scared, before Roman’s had a chance to dig his own grave, before Remus has been able regret not kissing Janus one more time.

There’s a guard to his left, finger on the trigger, mouth in a firm line think, think, thinking.

Remus beams. “You aren’t going to like what happens if you take that shot. Even in your best dreams, Princey boy can only maybe save a few of you and even then the building is firewood. That’s the problem with old places like this.”

He can’t see their eyes from under their visors— these faceless, emotionless people who could be anyone and anything from Remus’s own mother to Kyle from that casino who never found out that Remus’s bites when he kisses— but the stiff lines of their mouths make it clear they at least aren’t as trigger happy as the police were during the riot. The emblem on their shoulders is strange and threatening and very much not a good sign according to Janus: the white lotus flower looks very out of place on the deep navy blue padding and creates an interesting dichotomy to their violent, deadly weapons. Remus stares them down with his best smile.

“But hey, I mean a 60:40 split ain’t bad!” he says. “There’s what, twenty people in here? That means about 12 people get out and the rest of us get to have an explosive end to all our days! A real bang! But of all the ways to go, I can tell you being blown up is pretty lame. Personal experience talking here: it’s over far too quickly for anyone to properly scream about it!”

“REMUS!”

There was a time when Remus was six-seven-eight years old and the sound of Roman yelling his name meant that it was going to be a good day. There was a time when Remus was nine-ten-eleven and believed Roman called his name from love, that it was them against the world, that when Remus had nothing he would still have the brother he refused to let leave him behind. There was a time when Remus was seventeen years old and Remus would have given anything for Roman to say his name the way he used to and all he got was “I don’t need you!”

This is none of those times and Remus feels the ache of the years apart like a physical pressure in the air. Roman is there— Remus’s neck cracks when he turns his head to look at his twin— looking just the same as he was a few days ago: like a cartoon character pulled into the real world with only one obnoxiously white outfit that makes him memorable and wounds that don’t stick past a few audience laughs. Topped with a red mask, red boots, red sash— red like the blood in both their veins that doesn’t have a single difference because they both have superpowers and Remus never should have been treated differently and Why is it so hard to just believe me for once?

There’s no hints of the wounds that Remus left on him: no bandages on his forehead from the gash that had bled over his eyes, no bruising from Remus’s shoe going into his cheek, no scratch marks or scuffs on his clothes to suggest that they had ever been in a fight. Almost as if Roman would tell him that the fight a million cameras caught and streamed nationwide had never happened at all and Remus was just sick.

“And if it isn’t the man of the hour!” Remus calls with enough bite that the room seems to chill. “Hiya, Ro! Can I just say, congratulations on day three of trending on Twitter! The number two spot isn’t bad; although you aren’t used to being number two, are you? I know I’m not used to being number one!”

“Are you insane?!” Roman snaps out. His hair is gelled today, although his quick tumble knocked a bit of it out of place, so he looks like Baby’s First Prom Night With A Girl Who Asked Him Out As A Joke That He Still Thinks Is Genuine. The white of his outfit is offensive on all levels, the red accents just enough of a shade off from blood red that Remus wants to fix it for him by actually making him bleed! The golden tip of his rapier is out and ready for a fight but even with the long range, Remus is hilariously out of reach.

Maybe if Remus had come in with a gun, with a sword, with a knife or a smoke grenade it would have been a good fight, a good chance to bash his head in again and figure out if he would feel bad about Roman dying after all.

But that’s the beauty of how Janus’s mind works isn’t it? He almost laughs.

“Didn’t we already cover this conversation, Roman?” He asks, grandly. “Come on, it's like you don’t know me at all!”

He sweeps his hands in the air, watching the way that Roman’s eyes track the remote in his hand with a focus and intensity that borders on panic. The ridiculous mask on his face might be enough to keep the public in the dark about his inner thoughts, but Remus could read Roman like a picture book: creased lips hiding the way he’s nearly biting his tongue to remind himself to keep a calm face, wrinkle between his eyes that point to him running through all the different way that he might be able to save the day heroically, a twitch of his hands that imply he’s still not very good at following directions.

At the very least Patton is keeping an eye on the crowd (twenty, Remus thinks, all with various powers or weapons and all nervous and unsure about how this is about to go and who are about to be tested in ways they have never been prepared for) that they have trapped in the building, keeping them calm with low toned orders of back up! and we’ll handle this! We’re professionals! Virgil seems all too happy to have someone else handle things: even with his hands still bound he has no problem melding back with the other hostages, still struggling at the duct tape, out of sight and out of mind. Roman doesn’t even flick his eyes over to check on any of them, as if he could magically make Remus forget anyone other than him exists through sheer force of a stare.

It feels ridiculously familiar, in the painful, stabbing way that everything that reminds him of their childhood feels painful. If he blinks at the wrong second, Remus will wake up and find himself on the school playground again after he told the wrong kid to stop running before he ends up slamming his head on the asphalt and that kid decided to take offense with Remus’s face for it.

Remus doesn’t remember the name of that kid anymore, or their hair color, the sound of their voice or the feel of their tiny stupid fist or what shards of his skull Remus had gotten to see. He remembers that Roman hadn’t been there when all the other kids had started backing up and watching with excitement that someone was finally, finally going to shut Remus up and none of the teachers stepped in until the fifth fist had landed.

He wonders if somewhere out there that kid without a name is maybe realizing that Remus wasn’t lying about seeing him die. He wonders if that kid would feel sorry about punching him until the teachers had to pry him off Remus. He wonders if Roman really did feel sorry about not stopping it like how he had said he felt when he was helping Remus press ice packs to his body afterwards.

He wonders if Roman remembers that day at all.

“Remus,” Roman says. “Give me the switch. Please.”

“So polite,” Remus croons.

“Remus, you don’t need to blow yourself up— ”

Remus laughs. “Oh this?” Remus says waving to his vest. “Nah, this was just for laughs. I had some Christmas lights around…You know! Reusing! I care a lot about the environment. My whole outfit is completely thrifted except for the parts that are not! But no, the real bombs are up there.”

It doesn’t take anyone more than a few seconds to see them once Remus has nudged their attention upwards: the handful of flashing blinking red lights littered across the grand opulent ceiling, at the junctions that would bring down the whole flaming ceiling on them all, clinically tested by Remus. Someone screams and its fucking music to Remus’s ears. The air buzzes with panic that just barely avoids setting off the charges with electrostatic-physics-pseudo-magic. Remus meets Virgil’s gaze head on, and nearly laughs at how Virgil leans back into Patton’s very capable, altar boy arms and desperately tries not to throw himself into an unfortunate panic attack that might get them all killed when his sonic waves interfere with the delicately placed devices.

“How…?” Roman says, flustered, red faced, and rightfully horrified.

“I know a guy, you might have met him, he goes by the name Basilisk. Tell me if this rings any bells but he can turn into literally any fucking animal, excuse my French. Public Library schematics are easily found online— bet you didn’t think that through when you chose this place to set up shop, right? And really who didn’t spend their formative teen years trying to build things that blow up? The only actual hard part of all this was tying the bombs to my sexy squirrel boyfriend so he could sneak in through the skylight.” Remus says, eyeing the nails on his free hand, tsk-ing at the chipped nail polish he hadn’t had time to fix while preparing everything for this moment.

Roman doesn’t really flinch, but the tip of his rapier inches upwards at the mention of Janus’s self-picked name, and his teeth grit together just barely short of a sneer that offends every part of Remus on a spiritual level.

“I was here last night— ”

“Yeah, you were dealing with the molotov cocktail that was thrown through the window over there at…. nine thirty-seven give or take a few seconds,” Remus jerks a thumb over to the window that had been shattered and boarded up by the time that anyone had actually woken up for the day. “Really, this is a public library, Bro. What will the public think when they hear you didn’t even have the firemen come check the building out last night? And that instead of closing it down for today, like it should have been after an event like that, you went ahead and gave me twenty three shiny little hostages! And then we wouldn’t be having this conversation and I wouldn’t be trying to find a reason not to…let go of this button.”

Behind him, Patton, or Zeal, or Whoever He Was, whispers something to Virgil and steadily lets go of him, only glancing back once to make sure that Virgil won’t drop to his knees and brain himself on the polished wooden floors. It's a close call from the light buzzing in the air that makes Remus think of TV static.

“Prince,” Zeal says warningly in a way that was probably meant to be a mumble but the staunch silence of the library crafted it into a local announcement. “There are people in the back conference rooms having their evaluations done.”

“Oh yeah!” Remus agrees, “Two individuals and a mother with her seven year old daughter. I can even speed up the process for you: Linda Maddock makes really great chocolates, her daughter is super sweet and I hope that the first person stupid enough to break her heart gets eaten by a panther considering her daughter can speak to animals. But honestly they freak me out, you know? I mean, a parent who cares about their child? I wouldn’t know what to do if that were me.”

Something flashes through Zeal’s face, short and fast and Remus thinks it might have been something like pity. Remus’s body aches from a riot that he almost didn’t survive, his eyes burn from tear gas that had been avoidable, his tongue itches with all the things he wants to tell Patton Hart to do with his pity.

“That information is confidential,” Roman says in a hard voice. “How did you know— ?”

“I know a lot of things! In case it wasn’t clear before, I can see the fucking future,” Remus says. Roman shifts a foot forward, and Remus holds up the mechanism again in case his ridiculously short minded brain forgot what exactly Remus was holding over all their heads. Literally. “Though, you’ve got everyone so fucking sure they really are still back there. Where did you get your magical power scientists from, Roman? Where are their licenses? I’ve seen drug dealers with better certifications than these guys and that’s after I hacked the FBE records to find out who would be hosting these registration interviews.”

Remus chances a glance toward Virgil, who seems to freeze like a twenty year old Remus in an eighteen wheeler's headlights. One of the other civilians must have crept over as a silent bequest of Zeal because they were working at trying to quietly undo the duct tape now.

“I hope you get shot,” Virgil hisses, although from the lack of reactions from everyone around him Remus guesses that it was a display of Virgil’s frankly impressive sound control. A special secret message for Remus and Remus alone.

Remus winks at him and turns back to Roman. “How do you know they didn’t shuffle each of those people off into a big white van out back? How do you know those people who trusted you aren’t screaming your name right now? How do you know any of them are coming back through those doors, Roman?”

Someone is crying. Remus would feel bad, if only he hadn’t grown up being told his tears were pointless and changed nothing and didn’t make anyone feel better. His fingers ache, pinpricks of pain that feel exactly like needles being methodically slid into each of his digits.

For a moment, he thinks about just opening his hand, letting go of the remote, and watching Roman’s face go from defensive to horrified to scared-out-of-his-mind. Something to pay back for the years and years and years of terror he inflicted on Remus. An end, The End and Remus wouldn’t ever have to worry about figuring out his own emotions about a brainwashed, dumbass brother.

“Nothing is going to happen,” Roman says, very heroically. “Nothing like that is— is that what you think I’m doing here?! Kidnapping people?! You rigged the building with bombs because you think I’m kidnapping people?!”

He sounds like Remus suggested he play an extra in a Broadway musical instead of the lead. He sounds like he doesn’t think Remus is actually dangerous. He sounds like he did right before he told Remus that nothing bad was going to happen at that party four years ago.

He sounds like he still thinks Remus doesn’t have a power. So sure, so certain, so indigent.

“What is it about his face that makes you people trust that?” Remus asks. “Do you even hear him? Roman, do I need to spell it out? Big Shadow Government. Preppy Dancing Monkey. A list with the names and addresses of everyone who has an ability and what it is.”

“For getting resources to those that might need it!” Roman says.

“Oh yeah, definitely not so certain people might go missing in the middle of the night. Do you also fall for Nigerian Prince phone call schemes, too? What’s your social security number?”

“What do you want, Remus,” Roman says, dangerously, less like a question and more like demanding permission to punch him in the face. Less like the actor Remus had spent seventeen years building up and more like the person who had thrown it all back in his face. Less like this façade he’d convinced everyone else is real, and more like who Remus knew he was underneath.

“Prince,” Zeal, Patton, whoever, says softly, warningly, nervously. It almost sounds like “please don’t do something stupid” and “when do I start getting paid for being your babysitter Roman?” and “why do you always get to be the center of attention when I’m just as morally unethical?”

“Stay back,” Roman tells him, with all the authority of a man who doesn’t believe a black hole would be able to kill him and Remus definitely wants to see what he would do.

“What I want,” Remus bites out, “is for you to be dead in a ditch, so disfigured that no one recognizes you and no one will remember you. But seeing as you’ve been on international TV parading around bullshit and dumbassery, I’m settling for you being dead and everyone hating you as much as I do.”

As if waiting for the right moment, the civilian helping Virgil finally manages to break through the duct tape and free him. Remus tenses his shoulders, bending his knees just so that if Virgil takes a flying lunge at him Remus can maybe dodge before his head is slammed through the polished wooden floor for all this.

But in the end Virgil just glowers at him like they hadn’t just spent three days together, practically roommates except that Remus has never paid rent before in his life and is not about to start. He looks pale and sweaty but otherwise content to slip further and further away from Remus, from the stage he’d built, from the spotlight that Remus is certain will burn them all one day (maybe even today). It really was a shame finding out that he had opinions on Self Preservation and feared Death like it was something he could avoid forever if he never did anything slightly upsetting; Remus would have loved to see what other things that voice of his could do.

But then the civilian who was helping Virgil stands up again and Remus thinks that maybe it would have been better if Virgil had knocked him into his next life.

"Oh," Remus says, because he can’t forget a death even if he tries; it doesn’t matter who it is, when it is, where it is, Remus remembers, remembers, remembers when no one else will.

Sharp angels, pale skin, jet black hair tousled by the short sudden panic of the crowd when Remus had made his entrance but Remus only remembers all of that highlighted by humid rain and street lights of a road that he had never walked before. The man’s eyes are bright and blue and narrowed in suspicion through thick lenses with a finger print on them and Remus memorized the sound of construction workers, the feel of a weightless free fall, and the taste of a name he's never spoken.

Maybe it’s destiny, if Remus believed in something as benevolent as that. He squeezes the deadman's switch so hard he almost thinks he crushes it.

"Ain’t this interesting!” He says. “A dead man walking! Future corpse! How’s your life going, Logan?”

The other people shy away from Remus's sudden target, but Logan merely tips his head to the side without an ounce of fear towards the situation he’s currently in. There's less than ten feet between them, the ceiling rigged with all sorts of flashing lights that he and Janus spent a decent amount of time orchestrating; there's no reason he shouldn't be afraid, there’s no reason that he should know that he dies somewhere else some time else, there’s no reason that Remus should like that.

Unafraid people do unexpected things. Unafraid people think they know everything. Unafraid people tell Remus he can’t see the future and then ruin his life a million times over because they don’t know what it’s like to feel blood between their fingers and realize that every death is preventable if Remus kills himself enough for it and somehow that makes his life worth less than theirs.

"Is there something you need from me?" Logan asks neutrally. "Or rather any of us here. I believe that if you have drama to work out with... whatever The Prince is to you, then you have no need to keep any of the rest of us from our daily lives. This whole thing is already ridiculous without you wasting our time."

And Remus does believe it’s ridiculous and that he’s wasting their time. That’s the whole point of this; dragging each second out as far as he can take it and milking their attention for as much exposure time as he can. He wants this attention, he wants to be seen, he wants Roman to see him and there’s something about Logan’s gaze that doesn’t sit right with Remus so he--

--blinks.

"In fact," Logan continues, quite confident for someone who might not survive to see the sun again. "This entire thing will be resolved if you put down the weapon and try talking for once."

Remus, who had talked before, who had screamed, who had begged and cried and argued before, sings, "Oh, I sincerely doubt that."

Logan's eyes dart to the side glancing at the other hostages just for a second and the boy he's with, the young man with a Starbucks cup who's name Remus never learned shakes his head subtly. Logan clicks his tongue in something akin to disappointment or distaste, and sets his gaze back on Remus.

"I will try again then," Logan says, standing straighter, shoulders squared and spine far stronger than Roman’s had ever been. "Based on your previous actions and reactions, you don't have any actual motivation or urge to hurt anyone other than The Prince, and perhaps Zeal, although I doubt that as well. So you will step away from us and you will avoid hurting civilians in your endeavors to continue... this charade you have set up here. In fact, you will cease your performance because you do not believe it has any purpose in helping your ultimate cause of The Prince’s death."

Remus blinks, almost about to laugh, almost about to ask what Logan thinks this is going to accomplish, almost about to go back to Roman and Zeal and The Plan when his grip loosens and the remote falls into the empty air so much like a body tumbling down a manhole that Remus can do nothing but stare at it and wonder what the fuck just happened.

Logan smiles at him, smugly, condescendingly, pompously, and that’s the last thing Remus sees before Roman is hurtling into him like a freight train.--

--blinks.

“In fact—”

“Stop,” Remus, who had talked before, who had screamed, who had begged and cried and argued before, blurts out like his ribs didn’t nearly snap from the force of a blow that never happened. “What the fuck was that?”

Logan's eyes dart to the side glancing at the other hostages just for a second and the boy he's with, the young man with a Starbucks cup who's name Remus never learned looks just as bewildered as everyone else.

“I see,” Logan says slowly, a smile creeping across his face like a scythe glinting in the moonlight. “So it did work. Fascinating. This entire thing will be resolved if you put down the weapon and try talking for once.”

“No,” Remus says.

Logan’s eyes narrow. He takes a step forward like he doesn’t even notice Patton or Roman telling him to stop. His back straightens, and he towers and the people behind him inhale sharply and stare at him as if he’s lost his mind. “You’re angry. You’re angry and you don’t think anything will change no matter what you do. It won’t, not like this. Not even you believe this will actually change anything about how The Prince sees you. So you will step away from us and you will avoid hurting civilians in your endeavors to continue.”

“Logan,” the kid warns.

“In fact, you will cease your performance because you do not believe it has any purpose in helping your ultimate cause of The Prince’s death," Logan continues so certain, so convinced, so unchangeable.

Remus’s grip loosens and the remote falls into the empty air so much like a body tumbling down a manhole that Remus can do nothing but lunge for it again and brace for Roman diving into him like a wrecking ball.--

--shifts his weight to the side, favoring the ribs that aren’t broken, the leg that isn’t sprained, the arm that doesn’t feel dislocated. “You changed the script that time,” Remus says more to himself than to Logan. “Why did you change the script?”

“In fact— Pardon?” Logan says cut off from what he was saying.

“Your power,” Remus says, ignoring Roman’s claims for his attention. “Phrase activated? You changed the script but not all of it. Why didn’t you change all of it?”

Logan seems to realize something, his chin shifting slightly, and his voice raising. He straightens his back and steps forward and the people behind him shift behind him like Logan’s flimsy little body will protect them from a bomb. “You don’t think you can win this without your power. No one in this room thinks you can win this without your power. Zeal and The Prince will attack right now because they are heroes and they can beat you.”

Remus’s mouth opens, but before he can make a sound, Roman is slamming into him, toppling them both to the ground and the remote skids out from Remus’s hand. --

--jerks reflectively from the impact that doesn’t happen.

”In fact— ”

“What’s your power?” Remus interrupts. “Voice activated? No, bitch, eyes on me. What is your stupid ass power?”

There are a billion seconds between them, a gazillion decisions to be made and Remus’s throat feels as dry as a polar desert. Each breath pricks at his skin, yanking at the invisible seams holding him together in a future that Remus isn’t going to live through and Logan steps forward like he feels it too.

Logan’s too sharp, too keen, too knowing eyes dart back to Remus quick and lethal and evaluating. “...I don’t think I should tell you that.”

“Remus!” Roman says from miles and eons and dimensions away. “Your issue is with me!”

“Not anymore,” Remus says and nearly laughs because he knew there were going to be problems in this plan, he knew there were going to be mistakes and consequences and Remus wasn’t going to be able to rely on anyone to help but staring at Logan feels like staring at an exploding sun that’s collateral damage is so vast there’s no one left to acknowledge it.

Remus swore he wouldn’t die, Remus swore he wouldn’t use this power stupidly but Logan’s eyes are narrowing. When Logan’s mouth opens it feels like he’s talking to every version of Remus that has ever died, every version of Remus that wanted to live, every version of Remus that stood in a gas station bathroom clutching the grimy sink and staring at himself in a mirror with a giddy grin left over from being run over that first time.

“How many times are you going to go through this, Remus?”--

--grins with all his teeth.

”In fact— ” Logan continues and then he doesn’t because Remus is lunging the distance between them without warning. He slams his fist into Logan’s face, knuckles scraping against Logan’s perfect teeth, shoving all those perfect words back into his mouth. He hears the wind go out of the room, the sudden stillness of shock, and the buzz of panic and click of seventeen triggers being pulled.

“Did I say you could talk?” Remus snarls, and that’s the last thing he says before his inner organs all explode at the same time from a dozen dimestore guard’s guns.

He does not hear Roman scream his name. But then again… he’s not hearing anything anymore.--

--immediately knows that Logan has fucked up Janus’s plan to high hell.

"I'm wasting your time? What do you have to do so urgently, Logan?” Remus asks like his ribs didn’t nearly snap from the force of a blow that never happened, his lungs aren’t punctured with bullet wounds that tore through his body like paper, like his nose isn’t suddenly stuffed up with more blood than the rest of his corpse. “Die?”

“Remus!” Roman snarls. “Your issue is with me! Leave everyone else out of it!”

Logan frowns, eyes narrowed and lips pinched into a mostly straight line that reminds Remus of the polished lid of a coffin right before it’s lowered into the ground. The bees in his guts swarm up to his ribs, flitting between his lungs until he has to focus to breathe regularly and not scream.

“Do you know you die from falling down an open manhole?” Remus asks, ignoring Roman entirely. “Completely avoidable! If only you or your brother were paying slightly more attention!”

Said brother (younger, stupider, better) freezes at the comment, eyes hidden behind those aviator glasses that reflect Remus’s own silhouette right back at him. His iced coffee is clutched in his hand, still half full, with ice cubes clinking together silently compared to the rumbling tension in the room.

Roman’s signature is not on it. Remus isn’t sure why that makes him want to fucking laugh.

“You die, nerd,” he says. “No do overs. No take backs. No— ”

“I didn’t,” Logan cuts in.

“You will.”

“You are misunderstanding,” Logan says loudly, taking a step forward in the way that makes several other people whimper and scoot back behind him like a shield they could trust to protect them and Remus clenches the deadman’s switch in his hand tighter.

“Logan,” his brother hisses. “You can’t talk away a bomb!”

But Logan doesn’t even look back. He’s nearly Remus’s height, with the edges of his black trench coat sweeping around his calves when his slightly scuffed formal shoes, and Remus doesn’t exactly feel like a frog on a dissection table but it’s a near and very interesting thing and he thinks that Janus would either fall hopelessly in love with Logan or put his claws through Logan’s lungs with no in-between.

“I did not die,” Logan says, slowly and pointedly like the teachers who thought that because Remus claimed to see the future that meant he was stupid because he didn’t see their pop quizzes coming enough to study for them. “Although I’m unsure how your power works, when we ran into each other previously you granted me the vision of my death. Yesterday, the event played nearly the same as what I had seen: I had taken off my glasses to clean them from the rain and the second before I had fallen, I caught myself. I was able to circumnavigate the manhole.”

There’s a beat where Remus is certain that the entire world freezes: the space of air that rings between the tick and the tock, the breath before a scream, the white nothingness that comes after Zeal hits him with his power.

There’s part of a scoff deep in his chest that trembles like an earthquake that only Remus can feel.

“It was like Deja Vu,” Logan says, simply, clinically.

--”I didn’t say anything about rain. I didn’t say anything about you taking off your glasses. I didn’t say anything— ”--

--”Did you feel your death? Did your brother? Did he cry? What’s his name?”--

--”How did you see that? What did you do that hundreds of other people have never been able to do? Why did you get to live?!”--

--”What the hell makes you so FUCKING special?”--

--”THIS IS MY POWER! WHY DON’T I GET TO CONTROL WHO SEES THE FUTURE?!”--

There’s pressure in the back of Remus’s throat and it tastes like rainwater when he swallows. He instinctively drags his free hand under his nose, barely acknowledging the lack of real blood before he acknowledges the fury bubbling in his soul.

Logan stands in front of him, unbothered by his own death, untouched by the fear that people liked to look at Remus with, unchanged by the fact that he knows Remus has a power and what kind of bullshit is that?! Why of all the people, of all the times, of all the futures, why is it Logan who believes him? Why is it Logan who could see it?

((Remus is twenty one, but for a blink he feels like he’s thirteen again cornered in the boys locker room after gym with the other boys pressing him to tell them if one of the girls will say yes if they ask her out, and how does he know, is he sure, where’s your proof, Remus? Come on there’s gotta be something, I think you’re holding out on us, maybe this is jog your memory— ))

Remus’s laughter sounds like getting hit by a bullet train. “Deja Vu! Ha! Good one! Okay, nerd! You seem decently smart. Riddle me this: why did you choose to spend the rest of your life? At the FBE? You dragged your brother all the way out here, too?”

Logan’s expression flickers further towards annoyance. “All persons with extraordinary abilities are required by law— ”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Remus says. “If all the other kids were jumping off the bridge would you jump too? Here’s a hint: water from a 25 foot drop can still feel like concrete if you do it right enough.”

“Don’t you mean ‘wrong enough’?” Zeal asks, looking queasy.

“Do I look like the type of person who means ‘wrong enough’, bitch?” Remus says. “Oh come on, Pattie! You saw me in that crowd! I was less than a foot from you and I died three times in ways that were directly your fucking fault.”

“Remus!” Roman cries again, stepping forward even as his precious sidekick pales further.

“I believe we have entertained this far long enough,” Logan cuts in. He takes another step forward, gently pressing his glasses back up his nose, and Remus wants to know if he smells like rainwater and concrete. His voice is an orchestra that catches everyone’s attention, including Roman’s, and for someone who is not a hero parading around on TV and taking autographs, Logan looks perfectly in his element. “This entire thing will be resolved if you put down the weapon and try talking for once.”

“You’re right!” Remus says, twitching his nose as he feels the pressure of a nosebleed already starting to form. The right side of his body aches from the collision course Roman seems to be itching to throw them into, but he forces his muscles to tense and not give it away to anyone. “I am wasting your time. I’m wasting everyone’s time, aren’t I, Logan? Let’s stop with the pleasantries! You want me to talk so much, then I’ll talk! Congratulations, everyone! Welcome to the trial!” Remus announces, as loudly as he can. His voice dances off the aching antique building making him impossible to mishear, much less ignore.

“You’ve been selected for jury duty and you don’t get to opt out. And Logan, you just got promoted to the fucking chairman! So take a step back and shut the fuck up.”

Zeal takes an audible breath, drawing Remus’s attention like a snap. “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here! Remus, if you have a power, we can get it documented right here! It will be official for everyone to see. All you have to do is hand over the remote and let us deactivate the bombs and get these people out of here. I promise.”

He offers out a hand gently to Remus as if he were a wild animal that just needed the healing power of God to fix whatever was wrong with him. Remus thinks about biting into his hand, chomping down until Zeal is screaming, until the bones shatter, until Remus is tasting blood that isn’t his own.

“Hard pass,” Remus says. “I can print out a certificate of Fucked Up-ness at Staples.”

“Where is, uhm, Basilisk?” Zeal says, undeterred, and Remus remembers that expression from when a taser latched into his spine and killed him, from when he was looking at a wind maker and stole their power, from when he looked at Janus and raised his hand and Janus dropped like a brick. “He— or they— seemed to be more… uhm…”

Remus’s jaw pinches. “I don’t have him GPS tagged. Why? Do you think he’s a better conversationalist than me? I think I’m offended, Altar Boy. Almost enough to just....”

He twitches his wrist and both Roman and Zeal jerk forward with twin looks of panic on their faces. That’s only aborted when Remus yanks the remote back and raises an eyebrow at both of them.

Logan purses his lips and checks his watch as if he has an appointment he’s going to be late for.

“Just kidding,” Remus says, cheerily. “If we did that, then no one would have time to hate you as much as I do!”

Roman’s eyes flicker green, little lights that remind Remus of all the Christmases where Roman got everything on his wishlist and Remus got a new pair of shoes. The sight of it makes Remus’s teeth hurt, makes his stomach roll, makes the acrimony in his chest grow like a tumor that hasn’t figured out if it's going to kill Remus yet.

Roman puffs his chest. “If this is about me then let everyone else leave!”

“But it’s not!” Remus smiles. “It’s not about you, Roman. Despite how every other thing in our lives has turned out, not everything is about you, specifically!”

Roman grits his teeth, "Really?" He waves his arms around. "Because it feels a lot like it’s all about me right now! It’s time to end this Remus! Give me the remote, and we can get you help. See a specialist— "

"Been there! Done that!" Remus says. "Or did you forget how many meds my specialists would put me on no matter how many times I told them it wasn’t like that? Did you forget how Mom would grab my hair, yank my head back, and force pill after pill after pill into my mouth before school? How she'd stick her fingers in my mouth to make sure I didn't hide them under my tongue, because she didn’t trust me? How she called the school to assign a teacher to watch me when we got to the building to make sure I didn't head straight to the restrooms to throw it all back up? Because surely that was the only reason I wasn’t getting better."

There’s a silence in the room that Remus wasn’t expecting. A stiffness that swallows the entire Library that makes the books and the shelves and the aching, ancient walls seem like they’re suddenly listening to Remus too.

"What?" Zeal whispers.

"Is he telling the truth?" Logan asks Roman, and probably for the first time looks like he isn’t trying to storm back out the doors.

"That’s like...that's gotta be illegal," Virgil adds. "So illegal. Oh my god, I'm gonna throw up."

((“Do you really think that you can keep your brother talking about himself for that long? Surely even he runs out of things he likes about himself,” Janus had asked a million years ago and a few hours ago and five seconds ago, while holding the fourth rough draft of their plan in his hands. And Remus had nearly snorted that last of Virgil’s tin roof sundae ice cream out his nose.

“I’m not going to be talking about him,” Remus, who was confident, who was in love, who knew Roman more than he knew himself, who was twenty one and stupid and so tired of hurting, says. “I’m going to be talking about me.”))

“Where were you, Roman?” Remus asks just to push, push, pushhhhh. “How could my life have been a living nightmare for every single day and you didn't notice at all? I was begging for someone to save me!”

The crowd shifts and mumbles and Remus can feel their apprehension rising like a hot air balloon in the middle of the library. Roman can probably feel it too.

“You didn’t— I wasn’t— ” Roman stutters like he’s looking for someone to break into the conversation and call out the line he forgot was in the script.

Remus just stares at him, a smile plastered to his face like a mask when everything underneath it felt he was being boiled alive. Brainwashed or not, someone else holding the strings or not, eleven minutes between them or not, this tastes like relief.

"Oh yeah?" Roman snarls, and just like that the hero persona finally evaporates, folding and twisting and warping Roman into someone completely different and very familiar and I’m sorry they like me more than you! Maybe if you weren’t such a freak you would have been invited too!

"Where were you, Remus? You want to pretend to be the victim here? Want to act like you've never done anything wrong? Where were you when I was drowning under Mom’s expectations of a perfect son? Where were you when every single mistake I made was turned into a world ending event by her? Where were you when my power lashed out and got Dad killed?!"

"Getting run over on I-90 probably," Remus says. "Guess it depends on when he died. I could have been dropping toasters in the bathtub in a hotel in South Dakota or screwing up parkour in Chicago, too."

"Is everything a joke to you?"

"Do I look like I’m laughing?" Remus laughs. "Why should I be sad about the death of the man who couldn't look me in the eyes for our ninth birthday?"

Because Remus had been nine years old and only eleven minutes younger and Roman had gotten to choose the cake flavor for them because Remus had seen Dad trip off the ladder when pulling their presents out from the hiding place in the attic and hadn't been able to stop crying all day. Because Remus had been nine years old and only eleven minutes younger and he’d heard Dad read Roman a bedtime story in his bedroom and then listened to the steps pass right by Remus’s room. Because he’d been nine years old and after that first diagnosis from his psychiatrist, after the first round of pills that hadn’t worked, after that first time that they hadn’t listened to him, their dad had disappeared out of Remus’s life.

As quiet as a ghost.

((Remus didn’t know he was dead, dead, dead and in the ground. Gone and never coming back. Burned to ashes and scattered into the wind. Six feet under in a cemetery that Remus will never visit. Some part of him (the part that remembers bedtime stories read in silly voices, forehead kisses and hair ruffles, and hugs so big that Remus could disappear into them and forget about seeing blood on bumpers of silver sedans) howls.))

“Really, Roman,” Remus says, when Roman looks like he doesn’t know what to do with that information anymore than Remus knows what to do with it. His voice doesn’t shake, his throat doesn’t burn, and his hand doesn’t let go of the remote just to reach forward and strangle Roman to death, but Virgil is staring at him and Remus knows he’s not completely fooling everyone. “If you want to throw the victim card back and forth we can, but you aren’t going to win. You don’t get it. Whatever happened, whatever bad thing occurred you always fucking had someone who cared about you. You had Mom. You had teachers. Doctors. Friends. Other students. Do you know what I had?”

((A snowglobe. An eighteen wheeler. A toaster. A noose, scissors, keys, a freefall—))

“An incorrect diagnosis,” Remus says. “That wrecked my entire life.”

“It’s not incorrect!” Roman snaps. “You—!"

“Even if it wasn’t! Even if I couldn’t see the future, do you still think any of the way you treated me for my entire fucking life was fair? That it was fine? That it was good and role model worthy and you deserve to be looked up to?!” Remus yells, his voice echoing in the cavernous hall, maybe shaking, maybe cracking. “Do you?!”

Roman takes a step back and Remus takes a step forward.

"I was eight years old, Roman!" Remus yells, "I saw my brother die! I was scared and I was asking for help in the only way I knew how to!"

"You were making it up for attention! Just like you’ve always done! Just like you're doing here! Now!" Roman says hotly, eyes burning, burning, burning. "You haven’t changed a bit, Remus!"

“He’s going to get everyone blown up,” Virgil strangles out.

Patton seems to be of the same opinion from how he calls out Romans name, barely more than a begging whimper of a catholic school child desperately trying to convince someone to avoid hell by just… not being gay.

Roman doesn’t spare him a look, and Remus soaks up the attention like a sponge. If Remus was capable of being embarrassed he thinks he might be embarrassed at how delightfully his lungs fill up when Roman is glaring at him like nothing else in the world matters.

But hey, if Roman wants to dig a grave, who is Remus to stop him this time? Or all the times before this? All the times that never happened?

Who is Remus to shy away from all the things that Roman had grown into long before seventeen year old Remus had left him behind?

“Did it ever occur to you that I hadn’t been?” Remus asks, because if he has enough air to breathe he has enough air to twist his own words into a noose to hang himself. “Did you ever wonder if maybe you weren’t so special, Roman? Did you ever think I was worth the air I breathe?”

Roman doesn’t answer. Roman doesn’t answer and it feels like an answer all by itself. Remus’s freefall is ending in a collision, his thundering heart is exploding in his chest, his soul is finally finding that rest in the suddenly overwhelming static silence around them.

“I thought the world of you,” Remus says and he means it. “Some hero you turned out to be.”

He twists his wrist, shaking the remote between them.

“Okay, this is ridiculous!” Logan finally snaps out and Remus knows enough about wearing out people’s patience to know he reached the end of Logan’s. “Why are we even entertaining any of this?!”

Logan shoves a pointed finger at Roman and Remus. “You! And you! Both need therapy! Not to be jumping around like… like sophomoric imbeciles content to utterly disrupt the rest of our lives because of your puerile communication skills! Remus, I am sorry that your childhood was terrible, but it is not my job to facilitate or placate your uncouth attempts to find closure for the undoubtedly distressing attacks made against you by ignoramuses in your life. This entire farce is the exact reason why he is so confident in his ridiculously shallow minded insistence that you have no empathy, and you are smart enough to know that, which leads me to the conclusion that you are just wasting my personal time while you stall for Basilisk to finish whatever activity he’s been executing in the back area of this Library! And one! More! Thing!”

Remus’s mouth opens, a hundred billion futures rolling off his tongue, tripping on his molars, jumbling around in his throat all in the blink of an eye, in the pause of a breath, in the space between heart beats and still Remus isn’t fast enough to stop Logan from talking.

“—the bombs aren’t even real!” Logan yells furiously. “They are just flickering Christmas lights wrapped around probably empty boxes held together with duct tape!”

The entire globe seems to stop, and Remus can feel the jolt under his feet. Every noise seems to funnel directly out of existence before it can manifest. Remus’s lips ache from his grin, but there’s not a single part of him that is smiling.

“Why would you do that, Logan,” Remus says. “You ruined the surprise.”

“What?” Roman echoes. “They’re fake?”

“I never said they were real,” Remus says, with a shrug, shifting his weight back. “I never even said I had a bomb! Everyone really is just willing to believe the worst things about me. Honestly I think I’m offended! Seriously! What have I ever done to make all these very wonderful hostages believe I’m capable of building a bomb, much less a dozen of them? And then get them into this building without anyone noticing at all? Shame on you! And Jannie, I’m running out of topics to go through so if at any moment you'd like to finish up before Igetmybrainssplattered—"

Remus lunges to the side, just in time to avoid Roman’s lunge with his rapier, and then the deafening boom of gunfire hits the air he would have been if he were slightly slower. The glass doors crack and shatter and the screams start up again bouncing off the walls like thousands of firecracker filled pinballs.

“Hey PitPat!” Remus says, “Catch!”

Patton’s eyes widen and he panics for a whole second, with the wispy white light flicking out like the world’s most disappointing trick candles. Remus doesn’t give him time to figure out the rest, flicking the remote in his hand into the air, to give sweet, sweet relief to his cramped wrist.

Patton lunges forward rolling on the ground and Remus doesn’t wait to see if he actually caught it in his illogical distress. He grabs Roman’s rapier wrist and twists around him before the next round of bullets can find a target, shoving Roman’s hand in between his shoulder blades, in a way that he knows hurts.

“You’re brainwashed,” Remus snarls right into Roman ear.

“And you’re fucking insane!” Roman yells right back. The world floods green and R--

--oman’s center of gravity drops as he curls forward, throwing Remus back into the line of fire, head over heels and several thousand curses on his tongue. The edge of the rapier scrapes the side of his neck, hot and blood and someone is screaming his name, harsh and violent and gratingly hopelessly worried. The vest takes two shots like fucking swords slamming into his already struggling lungs and Remus looks up just in time to see the next one inches from his fa--

--oman’s center of gravity drops as he curls forward, throwing Remus’s body over him like he weighs absolutely nothing and means even less to him. He twists his neck to side, barely avoiding the blade edge and someone screams his name like a prayer, like a call to a god that is not listening, like a beg to Roman to think for once in his fucking life. Remus’s lungs take two punches to them, and leaves him g-g-gasping for air where there is none. He spits out a curse right before that last bullet drives right through his jaw and everything around him explodes--

--emus lets go of Roman before he can leverage Remus into the air. His body rolls to the side, avoiding the bullets that send the crowds both outside and inside into a panicking screeching riot.

“REMY!” Logan screams and now he doesn’t sound anything like the bold character who talked his way into getting Remus murdered.

Remus’s ankle catches on the floor tripping him into the polished hard wood so hard his teeth crack and his mouth blooms with blood, blood, blood. Bullets slam into his back, his shoulder blade, his spine tearing through the padding, and Remus catches sight of black combat boots in a forgotten iced coffee mixed with something far too scarlet to be anything but blood--

--emus lets go of Roman before he can leverage Remus into the air, and then he shoves him forward with all the strength that he can manage. The bullets freeze, terrified of hitting their own superhero, and Remus watches as Roman stumbles directly into Virgil’s arms, watches the way that Roman gathers his balance, his mouth curls into a grim thank you, as he shifts to turn back to Remus because like usual he’s not looking at the right mouth because Remus hates Roman but there’s someone who hates him more right there--

--emus throws himself away from Roman with enough force that Roman goes stumbling directly into the line of fire that had previously been marked as Remus’s. The bullets freeze in the air, too worried, terrified, petrified at the idea of tearing through Roman’s precious paper skin. Remus chokes on his blood, spitting it out of his mouth before it causes him to vomit, his head riiiiiinging with the sounds of gunshots and screams from futures that aren’t going to happen and ones that are.

Roman stumbles into Virgil, his rapier nearly tumbling to the ground from his twisted wrist. Virgil’s eyes widen, the whites gleaming in the artificial light. Remus feels the seconds grind to halt; everything happening so fast that his brain-mind-thoughts are moving hundreds of times faster than the events around them, than how rapidly his own body can move, than how quickly anyone else can seem to comprehend what is going to happen.

“It’s time to pick a side!” Remus yells, taking steps back. “Aren’t you tired of hiding? Of being alone?”

“It’s over Remus!” Roman shouts, eyes glowing green, green, green.

There’s an inhale.

Virgil has startling brown eyes, with speckles of purple in them.

Exhale.

“Aren’t you tired of being scared of Death?” Remus asks.

“You’re the worst,” Virgil says clear as day, voice vibrating through the air like a sword slashing away all the other sound, his body moving as fluidly as air.

Roman has half a second, a fourth of a second, an eighth of a second to turn back at the sudden noise distortion— it’s not even enough to recognize how Virgil’s fingers hooked his mask and dragged it down and how his tongue rolls wetly over his thin lips before they open and—

Remus only has half of a second, a fourth of a second, and eighth of a second, to dive the fuck out of the way before the static air slams Roman at him like a brick wall. A catapult of Red and White and Regis flings over his shoulder and Remus can’t stop himself from gawking at Roman slams into a shelf of books and topples it.

“Great!” Virgil yells, “They’re going to revoke my library card now!”

But all Remus can do is laugh.

The nearest hired guard turns their gun towards Virgil and Virgil swears on Remus’s mother, as he throws up his arms like that would defend against a bullet to his face.

But before they can pull the trigger, another man appears from the back halls where the conference rooms were, wearing a doctor’s lab coat and glasses with graying out hair and charges recklessly right in between the guard and Virgil. The man is screaming something that Remus can’t quite make out with all the static noise in the air but from the way that man points behind him and Remus can’t help the grin on his face.

The guard hesitates for a moment looking where the doctor points and well…that’s all the time that Dr. Janus Witchall needs before he’s driving his knee into the man’s gut, just under his chest protector. The gun falls from the man’s hands and Janus spins and kicks him in the head like some type of martial artist master in a lab coat and Remus is swooning.

“Apologies, darling,” Janus says, scales dancing along his cheeks, as he pulls off the wire rimmed glasses and tosses them carelessly over his shoulder. His hair swoops back to the blond he prefers, and it’s like looking at a sophisticated version of Janus that had been forced to go to Med School instead of being forced to kill his only friend. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long.”

“Basilisk!” Zeal yells, sounding wounded, sounding hurt, sounding betrayed. “What did you— ”

Janus smiles sweetly. “Relax, Patton. I left your doctors with some very lovely headaches. Please don’t blame Mrs. Maddock too much; her daughter thought it was really funny when I told her I wanted to play a prank on her mom. Poor woman fainted the moment I grew a tail.”

Remus actually had the strong suspicion that it was less of the woman fainting and more of her sitting quietly as Janus knocked out the doctor and stole his clothes, considering she hated the whole FBE registration requirement with all of her heart and when Janus had visited her with about $30,000 in cash asking to dress up as her daughter, the woman had pushed the backpack away and said he could do it for free if he made sure to punch Roman in the face. Remus would even bet real money that the woman had calmly discussed tea flavors with Janus as he tied her up to make it look like she’d been caught by surprise.

Remus didn’t respect a lot of people, but Linda Maddock was probably one of his new favorite people.

Remus laughs bubbling like blood flavored champagne in his chest. “I was worried you were going to miss the party!”

Janus cartwheels over himself, driving his heel into the face of a hired gunman so hard the visor shatters and the man screams despite the No Talking sign right next to them. Even in the form of a forty seven year old, he moves with all the grace and fluidity of his regular self. “Why do all your parties involve you covered in blood?”

“I think it’s really sexy of me to still be breathing right now!”

“Can the two of you flirt some other time?!” Virgil snarls ducking under a table and clamping his headphones to his head as Zeal’s power misses him by inches. “Son of a bitch!”

The remaining glass windows shatter at his exclamation, knocking several more gunmen to the ground away from him but Virgil very much looks like he didn’t even notice them approaching. He squeezes his eyes close, gritting his teeth, and curls up like he jumped on a live grenade.

“Just fucking get out of here already!”

Janus meets Remus’s eyes, gaze calculating with a question that Remus has already answered again and again and again.

“Come now, Dearest,” Janus says without needing to look at Virgil. “You chose us, didn’t you? Why would we leave without you?”

“Fuck you!”

“Asshole!” Roman explodes out of the pile of books that Virgil acquainted his stupid perfect face with. Remus laughs, dodging forward out of the way of Roman’s recovery rapier slash by inches, centimeters, breaths.

Roman presses forward, blocking Remus out of his escape with that stupid sword of his, nearly nicking Remus’s fishnets, and Remus grabs a book from a shelf and throws it at his face before sliding around the aisle. Several of the civilians had launched this way when the gunfire had started and Remus didn’t, doesn’t, won't have a plan but he reaches out and is grabbing the first person he sees and yanking them in front of him as a barrier between him and Roman.

“You wouldn’t hurt a civilian!” Remus says facing Roman, gripping the kid— ah fuck it was the kid form Logan’s futures, the one with the glasses and the ice coffee, the one that wanted Roman’s signature in a future that Remus hadn’t realized didn’t happen until it was too late.

The kid— Remy? Remy— was just tall enough to be annoying, with Remus’s hold on his throat from behind causing the kid’s spine to bend awkwardly at an angle that did not do either of them any favors. But even with him struggling like a fish on a hook, and Remus’s heart pounding like a drum at how Roman blocked him off from joining up with Janus and Virgil to get the fuck out of here.

Roman pants, snarling but doesn’t attack. “You dishonorable— ”

“Sorry, I wasn’t afforded a childhood that allowed me to have honor,” Remus says dragging Remy and himself back another several steps, and ignoring the sound of something crunching under his boot.

Remy, Logan’s brother, swears and claws at Remus’s arm.

“Shut up and work with me if you don’t want to die,” Remus growls under his breath.

“Bitch!” The boy spat out. “Those were my favorite glasses!”

To their left, a guard flings through the air and crashes through the elegant stained glass windows and into the crowd outside. Roman throws his arms up to protect himself from the onslaught of sound vibrations and books tumbling off the shelves.

Remus spits blood out of his mouth and grabs the collar of Remy’s jacket and hoists him through the nearest door away from Roman. He shoves the kid forward and yanks the door closed behind them, swirling around to find something to block it with. Except that, Remus’s lungs scream when he recognizes the bland concrete stairwell that must lead up to the mezzanine level, and that his hostage had already scrambled up the first half flight while Remus was wasting his time.

Remus takes the stairs two at a time, ignoring the way that the fight rings and echoes in the confines around him. He scoops up Remy again, catching him before the fist can land in his face and tripping the kid before he can get any good contact with Remus’s shins.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to actually fight?” Remus asks.

“Girl, I’m too cute to be involved in fights!” the kid says. “Let go, man! Logan will— ”

Remus kicks open the door to the mezzanine floor, ducking out of the way of several stray bullets before he drags Remy out with him. He feels like the air is shattering, like gravity is working from every direction to tear his limbs apart, like every single one of the bullets that whizzed by had actually exploded through his rib cage.

Remus had only glanced at the mezzanine floor when he had been looking at the floor plans, plotting where he and Janus could place the fake bombs while everyone was concerned about the little fire up front. When he had come inside the library there had been two guards up on the level watching with a critical eye but the cavernous layout of the main entrance made the “bombs” still too far away to make out.

Virgil’s sound vibrations had knocked one of them to the floor so hard he’d been knocked out, and Remus didn’t see the other one, though he kept Remy pinned in front of him as he checked the shelves with a quick look and then analyzed the fight down below.

The drop is close to twenty feet, and Remus has jumped, skipped, fallen, danced off higher, but his stomach churns at the sight.

Remus swears under his breath, “This is not where I want to be.”

The blood in the back of his throat tastes like death, like his esophagus had suddenly decided to go through emergency surgery, like his stomach acids had suddenly gotten formed a union and were rebelling against working conditions. He could jump, leave Remy right up here for Roman to console, he could jump and roll and only shatter his leg into a billion ways. He could fall and break his neck, he could spring and belly flop and hope that Janus could move fast enough to catch him.

Janus flips, swinging a tail around behind him to knock two different attackers in their throats. He might be able to grow wings if Remus tested his adrenaline enough, but Janus moving so fast would…. well…Virgil is back-to-back with him, hands raised and every projectile shot towards him slams to a stop and drops to the ground as if there was an invisible wall in front of him. If Janus chose to save Remus, Virgil’s back wouldn’t be protected.

“LOGAN!” Remy screams from Remus’s arms and from the awkward angle behind the receptionist desk Logan’s face pops up in distress.

Janus yells something to Zeal, but it's Logan’s cadence that answers back.

“Yo, Banshee!” Remus yells ducking as the bookshelf holding Eastern European history books explodes under gunfire. “Flood the building with white noise!”

“What?!” Virgil screams. “Do I look like a white noise machine to you?!”

“Logan’s power is voice-fucking-activated!” Remus yells back, hauling Remy up when he trips on the threadbare carpet. “Shut him up before he says something worthwhile!”

Virgil doesn’t respond but it doesn’t matter much because Remus’s ears are ringing and he can hear the door behind them slam open with Roman’s signature heroic entrance and Remus is out of time.

“There’s nowhere to go, Remus!” Roman yells.

Remus shouldn’t look. Remus shouldn’t look. Remus shouldn’t look anywhere but at Janus who is so far down below yelling out something about a plan, but at Virgil who is nodding to him, but at his own future because he promised himself he’d stop dying when he didn’t need to and if he dies than everything about this was just wasted time.

But then in front of him, miles away and only twenty feet at the same time, Roman is screaming his name from across the ocean of wood floors, furious and angry and green eyes alight and--

--And Roman is standing there in the kitchen, winded, out of breath, his lips on the cusp of a smile that Remus hasn’t seen ever directed at him since they were eight years old and didn’t know about five words or silver sedans or how alone sharing a room could feel. He looks happy, lovely, free; like who he would have been, if Remus hadn’t loved him with all that he was. The sunlight pouring in from between the curtain windows paints him like a golden angel, like a god blessed hero, like something more than Roman Regis.

It matches the blood stain on this chest.--

-- and that green light washes over the mezzanine level diving right into the ancient, antique wood boards with all the grace of a pretty ineffective light show, and Remus has his mouth open to stall for more time, any more time, any time he can get before he has to admit he failed.

The entire building shakes from the sound vibrations Virgil is sending off, and Remus is holding a child hostage in front of him and there are no kitchens here and Roman probably deserves it if he was going to be shot dead suddenly and Remus’s skin is breaking out in goosebumps and his throat is sore and he thinks that all the screaming in the world will probably never reach Roman if nothing else today had.

“D-don’t come closer, Roman!”

But Roman is looking at the ground with a wide eyed, panicked expression. “Wait, Remus— !”

Remus’s foot slides back the last step.The railing is digging into his back, the kid is clawing at his already injured arm and Remus feels the cracking before he hears it.

There’s a rumble under Remus’s shoes that he almost believes is his brain misunderstanding gravity for a moment, that the combined weight of him and the are muddling with his ability to stand on his own two legs, that maybe he’s more injured than he really knew, bleeding from a place he hadn’t realized because he’s so used to the unwavering high of losing all the blood inside of him. But then the vibrations race through Remus’s entire body enough to make him stumble and almost lose his grip on the boy’s jacket. And the poppoppoping and tingtingting of the gunfire around them is drowned out completely by the aching, brittle snap, snap, snapping.

“Oh fuck,” Remus grounds out just as the railing and the ancient wooden floors splinter under his and the kid’s combined weight and Remus plunges into a freefall that tastes like a thunderstorm at 3AM.

[Next Chapter]

#deja vu au #remus sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #romans sanders #Sanders Sides #remy sanders #Janus's plan wasn't actually that great but Remus is in love #What the fuck is Logan's superpower?#Janus: i need you to stall for time #Remus: trauma dump got it!#Roman out here with the What about me!? defense #love that for him #Patton and Logan and Virgil are so very tired #Demus #anxceit

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logically-asexual · 11 months

Text

I wanted to be seen

summary:

Superheroes AU. Roman, Patton and Virgil are a team of good guys who fight against Evil (Janus and Remus). They get Logan to work for them with like hacking and getting important information from the villains. But Janus tries to convince Logan that he deserves better.

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Part 2

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word count: 2,009

When Logan woke up, golden light was illuminating the room through soft white curtains. He wasn’t used to waking when the sun was already up and he became even more disoriented when he didn’t recognize the small bedroom he was in.

It was simple, with a single bed, a clear desk, and a dresser, presumably empty. He stayed motionless for a minute as he tried to piece together where he was now and why.

He remembered meeting Deceit and being handcuffed by him. He remembered trying to escape, but he didn’t remember being successful. He remembered being carried and then sitting in the backseat of a car.

Finally, it all clicked.

They left him. They never came back for him. He made a bet with Deceit and Logan lost it because they left him. Now he was kidnapped somewhere and had no idea what Deceit would do with him.

A commonly known fact about this villain was that he was good at scheming, and always made sure no one would be around to witness his actions. That meant nobody knew anything about him other than rumors about his appearance, which originated from cryptic pictures some people claimed to have caught. Though it was a very similar situation as with UFO’s. People would photograph anyone wearing a bowler hat and claim it was Deceit. Nobody actually knew the truth.

If that was the case… And Logan had met this man face to face… What would happen to him? Would he be killed for knowing too much? Would he be kept captive forever? Would his memories be erased? No, that was impossible. Logan’s mind was spiraling. He needed to come back to reality.

As he began sitting up, someone barged into his room.

It was a man dressed in an outfit that Logan wouldn’t know how to begin describing. The puffy sleeves, high neck and flares at the hem of the shirt and ends of the sleeves reminded him of medieval nobility. Most of the fabric was black, with some bright green accents, like the sash, and covered in glitter.

The man wore black pants and high boots. His eyes were a bright red and he had purple eyeshadow around them, making him look ill. However, the crazed look in his eyes and the energy with which he entered suggested otherwise.

“Baby Techie! Good morning!” He yelled. “Are you ready for your adventure?”

“What?” He replied tiredly.

“I’m taking you to the office! Boss’s orders. We’d thought you’d be up by now.” He looked downwards at Logan’s body still half under the covers.

Logan realized at that moment that he was in his underwear. He felt his face heat in embarrassment, which the other man must have seen because he explained:

“Oh, we burned your clothes. They were disgusting. There’s new ones in there.” He pointed to the dresser. “Put them on if you want to and I’ll see you outside!”

He slammed the door closed and left Logan back in silence.

They… took his clothes off? While he slept? And then burned them? What was he doing here again?

He stood and went to the dresser. There he found several new sets of clothes. First, there was a horrifying blue and orange jester costume. He carefully put it aside, hoping someone had made a mistake when putting it there. Then, another costume, but this was a gray mouse onesie. Logan wondered if this was some kind of joke, or a nightmare.

After some digging, he found simple black pants and a silver gray button up shirt. He put them on quickly, before walking out of the room.

He met the man in green again on the other side of the door, who pouted upon seeing Logan’s choice of clothing.

”Nooo! Why so boring?” He exclaimed.

Logan paid him no mind, and followed as they began walking along the hallway. It was wide, with identical doors to one side and framed pieces of art on the opposite wall. All the paintings included a variety of snakes, dark forests, or close-up eyes. The interior design seemed otherwise minimalist, with all walls painted a light gray and the floors made of marble. The frames of the paintings called one’s attention for their striking golden color. Logan wondered if they were made of real gold.

“My name is Remus, by the way. But you can call me Duke, or Dookie, or Daddy, or anything you want, I’m open minded,” the man said with a wink.

“Logan,” he replied.

Remus proceeded to talk Logan’s ears off with gruesome descriptions of how much he hated Logan’s team –or ex-team, he guessed– of superheroes and what he would do to them if he was allowed.

How had Logan never heard of this guy before? If he worked with Deceit maybe he was just as good as him at covering his footprints. It was also true that Logan only researched what Prince asked him to, maybe Prince had only heard about Deceit and not this partner of his.

They made it to a white stairway with golden railings, walked down and then turned to walk into a small study.

In contrast to the modern design of what –Logan assumed– was Deceit’s mansion, the study looked like it was pulled out from an old detective movie. The antique wooden furniture and the smell of cigarette smoke and coffee made Logan feel like he was in a completely different place and time. Deceit, dressed in an onyx-colored shirt, a vest, dress pants, the bowler hat and gloves, looked like he had come out of one of those movies himself.

Everything seemed too clean. Maybe they wouldn’t kill him yet. Or at least his death wouldn’t involve pouring blood over the carpet. Deceit doesn’t seem to be the kind of person to enjoy having bloodstains. Remus, on the other hand…

Logan tried to stop his mind from reeling and his body from shaking. He would spend his last minutes with dignity.

Deceit dismissed Remus with a subtle rise of an eyebrow, which Logan found quite impressive. Once they were alone and the door was closed, he extended a hand towards a chair in front of his desk. Logan sat down slowly.

Deceit sat across from him. He rested his chin on the back of his hand, looking Logan in the eye.

“So here’s the thing, Logic–”

Logan tilted his head at the name, but stayed quiet.

The villain laid a few papers on the desk. “—you’re going to fact-check all this information for me with the secrets you know about Prince and in a few hours I’ll send Remus to you with more instructions. He will take you now to your work desk.” He signaled for Logan to step out.

His eyes widened. “Wait. What?” he stuttered.

Deceit didn’t grant him any more words as Logan evaluated what had just been said. They wanted him to… work? Well… That meant he would at least be of some use before he died. Should he really be thankful for that? No, that was nonsense. Deceit was toying with him. He needed to get away of this place as soon as possible.

He stood. “What makes you think I’m just going to work for you?”

Deceit stared at him emotionless. “Whatever do you mean, darling?”

Logan blinked. “I’m not just going to follow your orders! This is kidnapping! And you’re a villain! I— I am going to get out of here.” He turned to leave, but was stopped by Deceit speaking again.

“And where are you planning to go?”

“I—“ His hand hesitated over the door knob. “It doesn’t matter. Away.”

Of course Logan was scared of being alone. He didn’t think any of Prince’s enemies would know what he looked like but in the case that they did he was defenseless. He was also scared of what would happen to him here. At least out there there was some likelihood he would never be found, while here he was right in the hands of one of the superheroes’ greatest rivals.

Deceit’s hand pushed the door, even if Logan hadn’t tried to open it yet. “May I remind you that we had a deal, my mouse?” the man spoke from behind him. “You belong to me now.”

“That—“ Logan stuttered, refusing to turn around, “That doesn’t mean anything.”

Deceit turned downwards in disappointment, “And here I thought I had finally helped you see the truth.” After a pause, he withdrew his hand from the door and used it to hold Logan’s. “Very well, then. You may go, but first I want to show you something.”

Maybe it was because Logan didn’t know what he would do once he was free and wanted to postpone the pressure of that inevitable decision, but he let Deceit lead him across the mansion and up many flights of stairs and different elevators to the top of the building. They reached the final floor and Deceit walked in front of him along the hallway to a door. He opened it, and the sight froze Logan in place.

The room was huge, with a high ceiling painted with the night sky and with a giant telescope pointing out of it. In the center of the room was a spherical screen, showing a full view of the Earth rotating and its changing weather. The space was surrounded by rows of shelves with uncountable books in them on the right and the racks of computation nodes for a supercomputer on the left. The wall adjacent to the door on that side was covered with screens that at the moment showed footage of the city, a database with information about the superheroes, constant news updates, and more. On the other side of the door, the wall had shelves with equipment for chemical experiments, and a long desk in front of it to work on them.

Logan stood at the entrance with his mouth agape, until he felt the smooth fabric of Deceit’s glove under his chin as he gently pushed his jaw back up.

“Wh— What’s all this?”

“Just a little gift,” Deceit answered, looking proudly at the room, “that I prepared for when you decided to join us.”

Logan stuttered, incapable of speech or thought. “For me?” he managed to say.

“Just for you.”

Looking around him, trying to get over the initial shock, Logan tried to get his thoughts in order. “No. No, this is bribery! I am not exchanging my freedom for—“ his eyes shifted and his voice was trembling “— for any of this. Just… return it to wherever you stole it from. I don’t want anything to do with it!”

“Oh come on, don’t act like a saint with strong principles now.” Deceit rolled his eyes to land directly on Logan’s, and began getting closer. “Don’t pretend you didn’t do whatever it took to comply with your little boss’s directions. I know what you were up to under those incognito accounts.”

Logan stumbled backwards until his back collided with the cold metal of a rack.

“Besides, it’s not only for bribery, I got all this because I do need it.” Deceit had stopped moving only a foot away from him and looked around once again. “Especially the computer. I need it for some exciting plans I am working on. And I need you to operate it.”

“Me?”

Deceit’s expression became softer. “Yes, Logan. I need you.”

Logan’s breath shouldn’t have been taken away by that simple sentence, but it was. He was needed. His entire life, all he had ever wanted was to be needed. He had always been replaceable, inconsequential, he entered and left every room without being noticed or cared for. He thought he was important for Prince’s team, but he wasn’t; it was clear to him now.

Something shifted inside him. Someone needed him. Deceit, the most powerful villain in the world, needed him.

He took a deep breath as soon as his tightened chest allowed him to, and as he let the air out, a word escaped with it.

“Okay.”

#the end is so stupid im sorry #i just wanted to post and get rid of this #to make space for new ideas to continue #logan sanders #sanders sides #janus sanders #remus sanders #loceit

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yourchemicallyimbalancedromance · 7 months

Text

Forbidden

Prompt: - “We just can’t—” “But why can’t we?!” “You know exactly why we can’t. You and I… We’re different. We don’t… We’re not meant to be together.” (Credit to @/dumplingsjinson for this idea that I got from their “List of “a forbidden romance between the good and the bad” prompts” list which you can find here<3)

Summary: after a while of thinking—and a few not so kind remarks about their relationship—Janus finally confronts Patton with the realization weighing on him.

Ship: romantic moceit

CW/TW: none that I can think of?

———————————————————————

Everyone knew that something was going on between Patton and Janus, even Thomas. They saw the way they looked at each other, excitement in their eyes; the not-so-discreet handholding under the table at dinner as Janus caressed Pattons hand gently with his thumb; the little glances they gave each other before excusing themselves to leave and disappear off in another room not to be seen for hours upon hours.

They wouldn’t admit it though. Patton was adamant with the story he created, no doubt with help from Janus, that he was just “being friendly” and they had just “gotten close after a while of getting to know each other.”

Janus was more stand off-ish about the topic, quickly diverting the conversation to a different subject, usually Thomas’ newest dilemma.

No one said anything when Janus entered Pattons room and quickly disappeared out of eyesight.

After letting him in, Patton threw his arms around Janus and littered his face with kisses everywhere. His nose, his forehead, his mouth.

Janus gently pushed him away, regretting what he was about to do.

“Patton we…need to…talk” he managed out, tugging his arm lightly to his bed where they sat.

Fear shone through on Pattons face. “Okay, Jan…what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Pat, honey…I think it’s time we start to realize that…we’re not supposed to be together.” Janus said, reluctantly.

In an instant, Pattons clothes felt tight around him and the air was so thick and heavy that he could barely breathe. “Jan, no. No—no!! Please don’t do this. Please” his voice was full of shock and desperation

“Its just—“

Before Janus could even finish his sentence, Patton had gripped onto him, nails digging into his shoulder. He barely flinched, just let him get his emotions out in any way he needed to. Janus put a loose arm around him.

Patton was sobbing so hard he couldn’t breathe through his nose, he had to breathe through his mouth, crying so loud that Janus was honestly surprised no one had come to check on him.

“Wh-y?” He asked through breaths, “Why are you— I—was it me?”

Janus went rigid for a moment, cursing himself silently, feeling as if he had went about all of this the wrong way.

“Sweetie, no…no, it could never be you, ever. you’re- you’re perfect” he said as softly as he could.

Pattons nails sank deeper into his shoulder and Janus knew that it would leave a mark for later, but right now, he didn’t care.

“Then…why?..”

“From what I’ve gathered, the others aren’t very…enthused, I should say, with our current…um…circumstances.”

Patton never wanted to let go, ever. He was soaking Janus’ yellow dress shirt but he didn’t care.

“We just can’t—“

“Why can’t we?!” Patton said, sobbing harder. You would’ve thought that someone had told him Janus had died with how he was gasping for air in between each word he spoke.

“You know exactly why we can’t. You and I… We’re different. We don’t… We’re not meant to be together.” Janus responded, rubbing soothing circles into his back. It was hard breaking someone’s heart and also comforting them whilst doing it, he felt guilty.

Patton pulled away from Janus to stare him in the eyes, still with a firm hold on his arms.

“Please…please kiss me. I can’t…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without you..without the way you make- made me feel.” Pattons voice wavered on the word ‘made’.

Janus couldnt stand the look in Pattons eyes. So dull, so worn down and tired; so unlike his usual peppiness that made him fall so quickly before. He nodded. “Yeah..okay…, you’re sure?” He asked.

Patton nodded, and the tears kept coming.

Janus pulled him in, and kissed him as tenderly and passionately as he could.

Patton was the one who broke them apart, still crying. “I’m in love with you.” He whispered.

Janus felt his heart break more than it already was, a sinking feeling deep in his chest. He took a breath before responding,

“I promise you, you’ll find better love.”

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #logan sanders #ts logan #ts patton #patton sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #ts remus #remus sanders #ts janus #janus sanders #ts morality #ts deceit #moceit

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fangirlwriting-stories · 2 years

Text

Protector

Summary: Virgil’s entire job is to protect Thomas, and he takes that job very seriously. The core sides might argue too seriously. The core sides don’t know that there are actual dangerous sides he needs to protect Thomas from. But there’s another side he needs to protect too. He used to be able to count on help from Janus, who did the job without even knowing it back when he still lived with them. But now Virgil and Remus are alone, and they have to look out for each other, which means the last thing that Virgil should do is leave his brother by himself.

Too bad it’s not exactly his choice.

Author’s Note: Hey, read the trigger warnings for this one. Not everything comes up in every chapter, but when it does, I’m not messing around. Please be very careful with this one if the warnings are something that’s going to bother you, and if you don’t read it, I won’t be mad.

That being said, welcome to my massive love letter to brotherly dukexiety. These two are such amazing brothers and if I have to write my own monster of a fic to make everyone else see it, that's exactly what I'll do. It's finished already, so welcome back to your regularly scheduled Sunday morning updates. Hope you enjoy!

And as a last note, absolutely all the credit to @shadowling-guistical, who was there for me to scream to and who cheered me on and got just as excited about this story as I did the whole time it was being written. Mishii, I am not exaggerating in the slightest when I say this story would not exist without you.

...

Virgil was not at all excited at the prospect of meeting with the core sides again. That video was supposed to be a one time thing! Okay, well, Thomas had said something about him being potentially used in future videos, but that was going to be something that happened once in a while, whenever they needed a villain to defeat or wanted to talk about the dangers of anxiety. Why on Earth would they need to talk to him again so soon?

Remus hadn’t seemed to get it either, but he at least had been willing to get Virgil’s mind off of it by suggesting all sorts of ways he could annoy the core sides when he went to talk to them. Most of his ideas involved dropping blood, saliva, or other bodily fluids on them, to which Virgil had laughed and pointed out the way that he definitely wouldn’t be able to conjure that much of anything. He wasn’t Creativity, after all.

“Eh, you could at least spit on Janus,” Remus said, waving his hand dismissively. “You’ll be right next to him.”

Virgil laughed again. “Yeah, spitting on Thomas’ Self Preservation. That’ll get me invited back.”

“I thought you didn’t want to go back,” Remus pointed out with a grin and raised eyebrows.

“Well, if I’m not invited back, how will I ever work up to being able to spit on Janus without consequences?”

It was Remus’ turn to laugh now, and he flopped down on his bed while continuing to grin. “You make an excellent point.”

For how lighthearted the conversation seemed, they were both ignoring the undercurrent of fear tucked under the entire thing. Because for how much Virgil and Remus didn’t love the prospect of him talking to the core sides again, there were still three sides that very much did.

It had been long known by the two of them how badly Malice wanted a way to get to Thomas. Why he thought Thomas would listen to him was anyone’s guess, but he’d managed to get Positivity and Cruelty on board with the plan decades ago. They had thankfully gotten pretty much nowhere, due in no small part to the fact that the side they’d need to convince to let them talk to Thomas was a core side who almost never came to their side of the mindscape in the first place.

Of course when he did come down here, he usually talked to Virgil, which didn’t make Virgil super popular. But him having a direct line to Janus more often would be exactly the kind of thing that Malice would want. Far easier to pressure Virgil into pressuring Janus into pressuring Thomas for something, as convoluted and complicated as that sounded. So whether it was what Virgil wanted or not, Remus wasn’t too far off. The safest thing for Thomas in this situation was to be as antagonistic as possible— which wouldn’t win him any points with Malice. Whatever. He was used to hiding bruises whenever Janus came down here. It wasn’t that hard.

Virgil stayed in Remus’ room for most of the morning, as it was better for brainstorming and coming up with a game plan, especially when Remus was in there with him. Of course, the game plan often ended up involving a lot of sex jokes and spitting on other sides, but Virgil could edit those parts out.

It was just after what would have been lunchtime if they were eating today that Virgil felt the tugging that meant he was being summoned by Thomas. He glanced over at Remus with a tense smile that probably came out more like a grimace.

“Ah, time?”

Virgil nodded.

“Spit on Janus for me!”

“No,” Virgil said, as he sunk out in order to appear in the real world.

If he was going to be antagonistic with this thing, might as well get a head start. Virgil appeared leaning on top of Janus’ hat, picking at his fingernails. “I’m told you want to talk to me for some reason?”

“Get off of me,” Janus snapped, shoving Virgil towards the other side of the stair platform they were standing on.

“Oh, shoot, were you standing there? Sorry, I didn’t see anything important.”

Janus gave him an unamused look, and Virgil turned from him to face Thomas before he could reply. “Is there something you wanted? I did have things to do today, you know.”

Most of those things probably involved hiding and running for his life, but that could come after he ended this conversation on a bad note so Thomas would never want to talk to him again.

Thomas sighed. “Well, there was a bit of a surprising reaction to the video you were in,” he said.

Oh, god. “What? Are people lining up with torches and pitchforks? Hate to break it to them, but they can’t actually affect me, I’m imaginary, they’re not—”

“Actually, everyone loved you kiddo!” Patton said brightly.

Virgil blinked and turned to face him. “I’m sorry?”

“Yes, unfortunately, the fanbase seems to have adored you,” Roman said, crossing his arms and looking very unhappy with the situation. “You are the second favorite character.”

“Second favorite?” Virgil asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course! After me!” Roman proclaimed, adding a flourish with his hands.

“Oh, of course,” Virgil grumbled, leaning against the banister to his left. “So why exactly does that matter?”

“Well, we have adjusted our plan slightly to align with what the viewers seem to be enjoying,” Logan said. Virgil glanced down at him. “And you will of course be included in more videos.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Virgil asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna be a main character!” Patton called.

“I don’t want to be a main character,” Virgil said, crossing his arms over his chest. That would be way too much pressure, were they insane?

“Oh!” Janus said brightly, clapping his hands together. “Well, that decides that then! Alright, Anxiety, if you wouldn’t mind heading back to—”

“Janus,” Thomas said in a low warning tone. Janus groaned and looked up at the ceiling in clear disapproval, but stopped talking.

“You didn’t have a problem doing the last video,” Thomas said, turning back to Virgil.

“That was one. Do you honestly think I’m okay with showing up in multiple videos? Probably almost all of them if you’re saying I’d be a main character!”

“Anxiety, I can understand the idea of filming can be a little unnerving,” Patton said. “And so can the idea of moving over here—”

“Wait.” All of Virgil’s arguments came to a screeching halt before most of them had finished forming. “Moving over here?”

“It would make it far easier to film if you could be around most of the time already,” Logan said. “We can hardly expect Janus to make a trip to the other side of the mindscape every time we need to make a video.”

Virgil took a moment to process the irony in that statement, blinking at Logan.

Well, that changed things. If he helped with the videos, he moved over here? For a second, Virgil considered what that might mean. He’d get away from Malice, Positivity, and Cruelty. From what he understood, the core sides didn’t do things the same way they did. Maybe he wouldn’t have to watch his back every second. Maybe he could actually sleep easily for once. But the problem there was, Virgil didn’t only have to watch his own back. And if he left Remus alone…

It would be a huge disservice to the creative side to say that Remus couldn’t defend himself. He was far from helpless. He’d saved Virgil’s own ass more times than he could count. But there were two of them and three of the others. On a good day they could hold their own, but if it was just Remus against the three of them, he’d be pretty exposed.

Virgil was a protector. That was his job, to protect Thomas. Remus was a part of that. And he needed Virgil far more than Thomas did most of the time.

Besides, there was a pecking order to the mindscape, as had been explained to Virgil very clearly the time that Malice and Cruelty had thrown Remus at him, unconscious and bleeding from where his mustache was supposed to be. They wanted to get to Thomas. But in order to do that they first had to get to Janus. And since Janus wasn’t an easy side to get to, their best chance was to fuck with Virgil, the person Janus talked to if he ever came down there. And if you wanted to fuck with Virgil you fucked with the people he was supposed to protect. If Virgil left Remus alone and exposed, it would be giving them an even more direct line to Janus, and in turn, to Thomas.

Virgil paused as another option struck him.

He looked directly at Thomas. “On one condition.”

Thomas blinked in surprise. “You changed your mind?”

“On one condition,” Virgil repeated.

“What?”

“I get to bring someone with me.”

“Absolutely not,” Janus said instantly, glaring at Virgil.

“Janus,” Thomas said, crossing his arms.

“That’s my job!” Janus snapped. “He doesn’t get to decide when you meet sides! That’s my territory!”

“No one said he had to meet Thomas,” Virgil said, smirking as he slipped effortlessly back into the asshole persona. “But if I have to deal with all of you idiots, I want some actually enjoyable company.”

“Hey, be nice,” Thomas said, raising an eyebrow at Virgil.

“Sorry, buddy, nice isn’t in my job description. You should talk to Patton about that one.”

“Kiddo,” Patton said, sounding a little disappointed.

Virgil ignored him and looked back over at Janus. “That’s my deal. You want me to be part of this stupid video series long-term, you want me to come over here and be on-call for whenever you want to film, I get to bring one side with me.”

Janus narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “No.”

“Janus,” Thomas said in exasperation. “Come on.”

“I am not allowing a hostile side up here,” Janus said, still looking directly at Virgil. “I decide when you’re ready to meet new sides. I know all of the other sides down there, and trust me when I say that you’re not ready to meet any of them. Letting one of them come over here is dancing too close to that line, and I will not allow it.”

Patton started to say something else, probably an attempt to change Janus’ mind, but Virgil recognized the expression on his face. He wasn’t going to be swayed.

And Virgil wasn’t going to leave Remus by himself.

“Fine,” he said, straightening a little as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Then I suppose we’re done here.”

“Wait a second, Anxiety—” Logan started.

“I suppose we are,” Janus said, not moving his glare.

Virgil sank back out to Remus’ room without another word, despite the protests he heard follow him down.

Remus wasn’t there when Virgil got there, which was definitely a bad sign. Virgil headed for all of their usual hiding spots first, as they’d decided years ago. If they went to the others first, they would unquestionably get hurt, and if they already were being hurt, it was okay, they could last a little longer in order to not give away hiding spots.

This time, however, Virgil didn’t have to make it through all of the hiding spots, because he was passing the third when he walked in behind Cruelty holding a knife up to Remus’ face.

Remus must have seen him, but Cruelty was the only one in the room and they were both well practiced with not acknowledging the other’s presence. Virgil summoned his scythe, made with Remus’ help a long time ago, and crept up behind Cruelty, silent on his feet.

“And another thing—” Cruelty started in a low voice. Unfortunately, his other thing would be lost to time and space, because that’s when Virgil slammed the handle of his scythe into the back of his head, and he crumpled.

“You okay?” he asked, looking at Remus.

“Yeah,” Remus said, waving a dismissive hand, even though after doing so he moved to clutch at his other shoulder. “Just a stab wound.”

“Ah.” Virgil shoved down the anxiety that always came when Remus was hurt, whether it was hours of grueling torture or just a simple stab wound. “You want help?”

“I can patch myself up just fine, thanks, I don’t need help.”

“Oh, yeah? Because it looks like you got cornered by just Cruelty,” Virgil said, smirking at him.

“Ah ha ha ha,” Remus said. “But come with me, I want to hear what the heck the core sides wanted to talk to you about.”

Virgil followed Remus to the bathroom, looking him over as he did so to make sure he wasn’t hiding worse injuries. He had a tendency to do that if he thought it would make Virgil nervous.

“You checking me out?” Remus asked as they both stopped in the bathroom.

“Yeah, you’re still smoking hot,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry, your new scar will not take away from how attractive you are.”

“Virgil, please, everyone knows scars make someone more attractive. Movies say so and therefore it must be true.”

“Uh huh, yeah.”

Virgil set Remus’ shirt and sash to the side to be washed later as Remus inspected the knife wound in his shoulder. He was right, it didn’t look bad at all, and he cleaned and wrapped it in under a minute, then snapped a new shirt on over it. “So, what did the core sides want?” he asked.

“Oh, apparently the fanbase loved me, and they wanted me to move over there to be in more videos,” Virgil said, waving his hand dismissively.

“Hang on, what?” Remus exclaimed, leaping up from his spot sitting on the toilet. “What did you say?”

Virgil stared. “I said no,” he said in bafflement. “Duh.”

“You did what? Are you nuts? And I don’t even mean the fun kind, Virgil!”

“Oh, please.” Virgil crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. “What am I supposed to do, leave you over here by yourself?”

“Um, yes.”

Virgil stood up straighter and dropped his arms. “What— Remus, I’m not going to do that.”

“You get offered a chance to leave this hell hole behind and you turn it down for my sake? Jesus, Virgil, I love you too, but come on.”

Virgil stared at Remus for another minute. Was he serious? It sounded an awful lot like he was serious. “You… Remus, you’re joking, right? This is a really poorly timed joke?”

But Remus was seeming to realize that Virgil was serious the same time Virgil was realizing that Remus was. “Virgil.” Remus reached out and put his hands on his shoulders. “I just got stabbed in the shoulder, and we’re reacting like it’s a normal Tuesday around here because it is. Listen to me. You are going to get out of here.”

“Not without you,” Virgil said instantly.

“Yes without me,” Remus replied just as quickly. “Have you thought this through at all, idiot? Remember when Janus first went up there?”

Virgil scowled. “What about it?”

“Everyone hated him at first. Don’t you remember? Remember why he went up there in the first place?”

“Yeah, of course. Laura Singer.”

Thomas had met Laura when they were both in eighth grade, when he had found her crying behind the school because she was worried her parents were going to find out she was a lesbian. Janus had shown up on a whim to make a suggestion, and that was how Thomas got his first girlfriend and came out for the first time simultaneously. And through that, overtime, Thomas had gained a lifelong friend in Laura, and a core side in Janus.

“But what’s your point?” Virgil continued, crossing his arms.

“No one liked Janus at first,” Remus said, crossing his own back. “He won them over overtime. Who’s to say that can’t happen again?”

“It’s not going to happen fast enough,” Virgil insisted. “I can’t leave you down here by yourself, you idiot.”

“What, you think I can’t handle myself?”

“I know you can. But I also know three against one isn’t a fair fight. I’m not going to leave you here, Remus.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Yes you are.” He sank out before Virgil could protest.

“What— Remus!” Virgil cried, sinking out to follow him wherever he went.

He ended up in the core side’s commons in front of all four core sides themselves, and most of them were already looking either very surprised or very displeased to see both of them.

“Hello, all,” Remus said with his too-wide smile. “There’s been a change of plans. Anxiety will in fact be coming up here to assist with more videos!”

“Remus!” Virgil hissed, trying to kick him while being subtle about it. It’s not like he was going to outwardly disagree with him in front of the core sides, and Remus knew that.

“Oh, really? That’s great, kiddo,” Patton said with a smile, standing from his spot next to Janus.

“I’m not your kiddo,” Virgil snapped. “Don’t call me that.”

“Well, we’ll have to see, won’t we, maybe you’ll warm up to the idea while you’re up here,” Remus said, giving Virgil a large blindingly bright grin that made Virgil reach behind him and pinch him on the back of the neck.

“But he’s so thrilled for the opportunity,” Remus continued. “He just needed a moment for it to sink in, you know, it was a bit overwhelming is all.”

Patton’s smile turned a bit confused.

A second later, Janus stood up, already scowling. “You seemed very against the idea earlier,” he said lowly.

“Yeah, what the heck is with the change of plans Hot Topic?” Roman asked, crossing his arms from his spot against Janus’ other side.

“I just told you,” Remus said, tilting his head just enough for his neck to crack. “He needed some time to process. But he’s more than willing to move up here to join you all. Aren’t you, Anxy?” Remus asked, turning his smile back onto Virgil again.

Virgil gave Remus a large smile back that poorly hid the fury of a thousand suns, and turned to face the others again. “Yep. Just thrilled at the prospect,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Oh,” Patton said, still sounding confused. “Well, that’s wonderful ki— Anxiety,” he amended. “Do you know how long you’ll need to move up here?”

“He can do it right now!” Remus called brightly. “He already has all of your begrudging permission, right?” Remus snapped his fingers and there was a loud crunching sound followed by Virgil’s room appearing down the hallway right next to Janus’ room.

Virgil grabbed one of Remus’ hands and yanked it behind his back so he could bend the fingers back, even though it was clear at this point that Remus wasn’t going to change his mind.

“Well, that looks perfect!” Remus said brightly. “We’ll just make sure everything looks good, and then I will be out of your armpit hair!”

Remus sunk them both out again, and reappeared them both in Virgil’s bedroom.

Virgil immediately whirled on him and shook him by the shoulders. “Why did you do that?” he snapped. “You asshole, I told you no!”

“And I told you I’m not letting you turn down the one chance you have to get away from the others,” Remus said firmly. “You’re staying here, Virgil.”

“Remus, it’s not just about that,” Virgil said. “Don’t you get it, you just gave them an easier way to hurt you and pressure me into doing something to get them to stop. You know what they’re capable of. They could seriously hurt you. They could kill you.”

Sides couldn’t die permanently, but they were way more vulnerable while reforming from death. Getting hurt during that time was the kind of thing that caused permanent damage. Virgil and Remus had always been there to watch each other’s backs when it happened before. If they managed to kill Remus, while Virgil wasn’t there to help…

“It doesn’t matter,” Remus said, pulling Virgil from his thoughts before he could really start spiraling. “Just don’t do what they say.”

“What— oh yeah, I’ll just do that,” Virgil said, stubbornly ignoring the tears welling up in his eyes. “I’ll just knowingly let my only family get badly hurt while I live in the lap of luxury. That won’t make me a huge fucking asshole.”

“You’re right, it won’t. Because that’s exactly what I’m telling you to do.”

“Remus. I can’t just leave you there.”

“Okay, fine. Don’t. Get them to like you, just like Janus did, and ask them to let me come over here once they do.”

“I said that isn’t going to happen fast enough!” Virgil snapped. “How am I supposed to get them to like me? I’m not exactly a likable side, Remus!”

“Virgil,” Remus said, raising an eyebrow. “I get that this might be a difficult concept for you to understand.” He leaned into Virgil’s face as if Virgil was missing something obvious. “Play. Nice.”

Virgil scowled.

“Don’t be confrontational. Maybe agree with another side every now and then and don’t constantly bring up the negatives to everything they say. Try not glaring at Janus every time a word comes out of his mouth.”

Virgil opened his mouth to protest, only for Remus to shove his hand over it, which Virgil leaned back from instantly. He didn’t want to know where that thing had been. “Virgil, Janus is the main side you have to win over. You do get that, don’t you?”

Virgil took a step back and let out a groan. “Yes,” he mumbled, glaring down at the floor. “I just… Remus, I don’t want to have to deal with him to get you out!”

“I get that. I’m with you, okay? But that’s just how it is. Get Janus to like you, and he’ll be much more likely to let me come over here. And that’s the only way to ensure that I’m not kicked out almost immediately.”

“I know,” Virgil grumbled. “I…” he sighed. He was being unfair, wasn’t he? Remus was the one who would have to deal with the others alone, if he could do that, Virgil could manage to not scream at Janus every time he saw him. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll…” Virgil glared away. “Play nice with Janus.” He looked back at Remus. “But I can’t just suddenly start being the friendliest side in the world to him, that’s just going to make him suspicious.”

“Okay, then try slowly working up to sucking his dick.”

Virgil winced. “But Remus—”

“I can handle it. I’m a patient side.”

Virgil snorted. “Oh yeah, when I think patience, I think of you.”

“I know I won’t be able to get out immediately,” Remus said. “It’s okay.”

Virgil looked back up. Remus was biting his lip while frowning and not even pulling off a finger to chew on.

Virgil looked down and laughed bitterly. “When did you get so serious?”

“Excuse me, is that a challenge? I’ll strip naked right now.”

“Ew, no!” Virgil called, leaning forward enough to shove Remus’ back. “You’re disgusting!”

“Thank you, I try. And don’t ever call me serious ever again.”

Virgil looked over at him, smiling even as he shook his head in exasperation.

“I just trust you,” Remus said.

Virgil stopped smiling. “Oh.” He looked at Remus for another moment, then walked forward and pulled him into a hug. “I’m not gonna let you down,” he mumbled into Remus’ sash.

“Yeah,” Remus said, hugging him back. “I know.”

Remus pulled back after a minute and smiled weakly at Virgil. “Okay. I’m gonna go and add more traps to stop anyone trying to get into my room.”

“Let me help you,” Virgil said instantly.

“No,” Remus said, pushing Virgil back a little more. “I’ve got this. I’m gonna be on my own for a little while, I can—”

“Remus,” Virgil cut him off. “Let me help you with this.”

Remus swallowed, and nodded. “Okay.”

They both sunk out together and headed for Remus’ room, and Virgil tried to ignore the fear that was cropping up at all of this. Remus would be fine. He was Remus, he could handle himself. Three against one still wasn’t fair, but that just meant he would have to move as quickly as he could. He’d start tomorrow. He could make everyone breakfast of some kind. Pretty much everyone likes pancakes, right?

...

Chapter Two

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