Gross
Fic Idea (no pressure obviously) Thomas struggling with his self image and ego, and in response Roman ends shapeshifting all the time, fluctuating between the masculine beauty standard (lean, muscular, hairless) and what society considers âuglyâ (pudgy, hairy). And based on how he looks, Roman will interact with the others or hide away â anon
hihi!! had this random idea for a sanders sides fic- something along the lines of- a while after Remus and Roman split, Remus comes back (when the dark sides start to get more involved) and confesses that he hoped Roman was doing better after he joined the light sides? that all he wanted was for his brother to be happy, away from the darkness for once? angst sadness ykyk :)) â can-you-hear-me-axhilles
hi, so I just read your wings series and I was wondering if we could have something with Remus and his tentacles? Like maybe him thinking they are ugly or something, Iâm not really sure. Maybe Roman has animal characteristics too and theyâre âprettierâ or âbetterâ so he gets insecure? Mainly focused on these two but I donât mind if itâs all of them together. No pressure to write this tho! â anon
Iâve been reading your Sanders Sides stuff for the longest time and I was wondering if I could get some Roman angst with a side of creativitwins? â meandmacats
Read on Ao3
Warnings: non-consensual body modification, self-esteem issues, self-hatred
Pairings: gen
Word Count: 5481
Or, five times Remus helped Roman out when Thomas's self-esteem issues change his nature, and one time Roman helps Remus.
Â
âRemus?â
Remus looks up from his knitting to see Patton standing over him. âWhatâs good, Pat-Pat?â
âIâm, whatâre you doing?â
âOh, Iâm knitting this patchwork sweater out of hair.â
âOhâŠhow cool.â Patton gives himself a shake. âAnyway, I was wondering if youâve seen Roman? He was supposed to come down for lunch but he never showed.â
âLike, at all, at all?â
âYeah. Neither hair nor hide! Orâwell, I guess he did do the hide since heâs hiding from us, and youâre the hair!â
âAh, Pat-Pat, never stop with the dad jokes. Youâll make all of us go into pun-withdrawal.â Remus carefully sets aside the needles and bounces to his feet. âIâll go look for him, see if he needs to be pried out of the dragonâs gullet again.â
âOh, thanks so much, Remus, I reallyâwait, âagain?ââ
âGotta blast!â
Honestly, itâs not like Roro is known for missing deadlines, thatâs Remusâs thing. Especially when it comes to things like meals and remembering to eatâwell, Roâs not exactly the pinnacle of healthy practices when he get absorbed in his work, but heâs better at it than some people give him credit for. Which means heâs either deep in the middle of something heâs keeping to himself, heâs asleep because the time zones in the Imagination are all kinds of wackadoo, or he really does need to be rescued.
Which isnât Remusâs thing, come on, Ro, youâre ruining his reputation.
By the time he gets to the Imagination, heâs already pulling out his acid-proof gloves and sharpening his Morningstar. He stops dead, however, when he sees the doors are still locked from last night. Thatâs weird. Maybe Ro just used his personal gate instead of the main one? But that just takes him right to his little workshop area, thatâs not anywhere near where the dragons areâŠ
Heâs about to go for his gateway when he hears a quiet noise coming from Romanâs door. Frowning, he turns. Romanâs door is only a few feet away. He glances up and down the hall to make sure none of the resident sneaks are nearbyâJanus and Virgilâand knocks on the door.
âUh, busy!â
âRo, itâs me.â
âOh. Did you, um, did you need something?â
âYou werenât at lunch. Pat-Patâs getting worried.â
He hears a muffled curse and the door glimmers slightly. Thatâs Romanâs cue that he can sink in. He stows the acid gloves and the Morningstar and sinks in, expecting Roman at his desk or on the floor puzzling over some bit of a story he canât quite get right, but instead he sees an empty room.
âWhere are you?â
âBathroom.â
Remus pops his head through the door and blinks. âWhoa.â
âYeah, yeah,â Roman mumbles, already reaching for the bandages curled up on the counter, âyou donât have to say it.â
âThat looksââ
âI said you donât have to say it.â
Remus slams his mouth shut, but he canât stop staring at the acne. Throbbing red pimples that look like theyâre causing Roman pain every time he so much as breathes, bigger whiteheads that have already started to ooze, blackheads that litter every inch of skin that isnât already covered, some of which look like theyâre almost on top of each otherâŠ
Roman turns his back on him and hunches his shoulders. âWhat do you want, Re?â
âI, uhâŠwell, now I want to help.â
Roman laughs. Itâs not funny. âThere isnât any helping this. Not until Thomas feels better.â
âWhoa. Back up. What?â
âThis.â He waves a hand at his face. âThis is a thing, remember?â
âOh. Oh, right, fuck.â
âYeah.â
Remus scrubs a hand over his face. âCan I help make it less painful while itâs going on?â
Thereâs a pause. Then Romanâs head turns slightly. âWould you?â
âShit, yeah,. Roro. Youâve helped me with stuff more times than I can count on my fingers and toes, let me help you.â He gets a small huff that might be an actual that-was-kind-of-funny-Iâm-feeling-better laugh. âYeah?â
ââŠyeah, okay.â
âWonder-bats! Okay, I think I still have that stuff from when we had those sores from the poison experimentsâŠwhere did I put that?â
âDid you leave it in your room or my room?â
âWe cleaned up here, so it should beâŠaha!â He takes a big plastic case from under the sink. âGo sit your perky butt on the edge of the tub, Iâll be right there.â
ââŠthanks, Remus.â
âWhatâre brothers for?â
2.
The very first time it had happened, it had been well before Thomas had learned what it was to be attractive.
Remus had found Roman crying in his room, curled up under all the blankets he could find with tissues covering the floor.
âRo-bro? What happened? Do I need to fight someone for you?â
âIt wonât come off!â
âWhat wonât come off?â
Roman had peered out from under the blanket cocoon and Remusâs mouth had dropped open when he saw the words FREAK and LOSER written all across Romanâs face in permanent marker.
âWho did that? Was it Virgil? Iâll fight him!â
âNo,â Roman had sniffled, âit wasnâtâwasnât Virgil. It wasnât any of them.â
âDid you do it? Thatâs more my kinda thing, isnât it?â
âNo!â Roman had wailed. âI didnât do it! Someoneâsomeone hurt Thomas!â
âSomeone hurt Thomas? But nothing happened! We didnât get into any fights!â
âNot like that! They were just mean. They were really mean and they said he looked ugly and they called him a f-freak and a loser andâandââ
Remus had scurried forward and wrapped his brother in a hug as he broke down in tears. âYouâre not a freak or a loser, Roro. Neither is Thomas. They were wrong, you know that, right?â
âThen why wonât it come off?â
Sure enough, up close, Remus had seen the red and raw skin where Roman had scrubbed it with whatever he could find to make the words go away. Bits were even coming off on the blanket as Roman rubbed his cheek against it.
âHey, hey, stop that. Youâre hurting yourself.â
âI donât care.â
âI care! I donât like seeing my brother hurt!â Remus had given him a shake. âYou donât have to hurt yourself more on top of this, okay? Come on, come into the bathroom, Iâll help you.â
âY-you will?â
âYeah, Roro, come on.â
The twins had gone to the bathroom where towels and washcloths were still strewn around from Romanâs previous attempts. Remus had made Roman sit on the stool and reached for the soap, getting one of the washcloth more suds than cloth and trying to wipe off the words.
âThat tastes so bad.â
âSo keep your mouth shut.â
âBut you keep wiping it over my mouth!â
âNo, Iâm wiping it over your cheek, which is next to your mouth. And you talking isnât making it any better, so shush.â
Roman had grumbled silently until Remus accidentally went too roughly over one of the sore spots and Roman yelped.
âOw!â
âSorry, Iâm sorry,. I didnât mean to.â
âWash it off! Wash it off!â
âOkay, okay! Come here!â
They had stumbled over to the sink and Remus practically shoved Romanâs head under the tap. He had spluttered and flailed out, splashing Remus.
âHey! Donât splash me!â
âIâll splash you all I want!â
âNo, you wonât!â
âYeah, I will!â
It hadâŠdevolved from there.
The bathroom had been sopping wet by the end of it, not a towel nor tile had been spared from the twinâs water war. Their clothes were just as soaked, their hair dripping like theyâd just walked through a hurricane. The sink and the bathtub still ran as if nothing were wrong and the detachable shower head in Remusâs hand sprayed as merrily as ever.
âWhoa, hey!â
âWhat?â
âItâs gone!â
Roman had run to the mirror, touching his face. Sure enough, the words had vanished.
âIt is gone!â
âYouâre welcome,â and he had taken a big bow with the shower head still spraying everywhere, âI think that means I win.â
âWhoa, wait, no, it doesnât.â
âYes, it does.â
âNo!â
âYes!â
It took a while longer for the war to end and even longer for the bathroom to dry.
3.
Someone says Thomas eats too much junk food and Roman canât stop dripping oil.
Remus finds him sitting on his bathroom floor, the drain in the shower covered with a towel. Heâs sitting on towels too, towels soaked and heavy with oil as Romanâs tears fight to get out from his eyes and through the slick covering his skin.
âThe others are worried,â he says quietly, lingering in the doorway, âthey want to know whatâs wrong.â
Roman doesnât say anything. Remus peers a little closer and sees the telltale sheen over his mouth too. Even just thinking about how it must feel to have that much oil on his lips makes Remus shudder. He summons a washcloth from his own stash and a bottle of soap.
âJust like old times,â he says as he crouches down in front of him, âIâm gonna wash off the oil on your face, okay?â
Roman manages a small nod and Remus gets to work. Normally when heâs washing oil off stuff, he scrubs at it like heâs trying to grind it with sandpaper and the soap foams up around his wrist. But this is Roman, not some metal piece of equipment, so he goes as gently as he can without suffocating him with soap or making no progress at all. He has to stop a few times when Roman lets out a pained noise or winces at the rasp of the cloth, just holding a blotting sheet there to soak up the oil as best he can while he waits for him to settle. He makes a note to work on the heavy duty blotters in case something like this ever happens again.
At last, when Roman looks like heâs about to cry for a very different reason, the space around his lips and nose is clear enough for him to gasp out a few words.
âSorry, thank you, sorryââ
âShh-shh, Roro, you donât need to apologize. Just tell me what you need.â
ââS so gross.â
âI know, I know. Iâm sorry. Iâm right here.â
Roman lets out a frustrated whine and Remus quickly pulls out his phone.
âIf you tell me what Thomas needs to stop thinking about I can get Lolo on it.â
âNo, then heâllââ
âIâm not gonna tell him whatâs wrong with you, okay? Iâm just gonna prod them into getting Thomathyâs brain on the right track away from whatever-the-fuck-this-is-station.â
More oil starts to build up and he shoves his phone in his pocket, working on washing it away again. His presence seems to have calmed Roman down a bit; the oil comes in smaller waves this time, concentrated more around the naturally oily parts of his face rather than every inch of his skin. When heâs cleaned off the areas around his nose and mouth, he goes and starts moving to the rest of his head.
âJunk food,â Roman mumbles, as if saying it too loud would make the oil return with a vengeance, âsaying bad stuff âbout ThomasâŠunhealthyâŠgrossâŠâ
Remus whips out his phone and sends a text to Logan about food not having a moral weight and how eating something was always better than eating nothing. He gets a text back a few seconds later that just says on it.
âLolo cavalry is assembled, heâs going.â He tucks the phone away and keeps washing Roman off. âAnd Iâm gonna stay right here until we get all this oil off you, okay? We can even do your thirteen-step skin care routine once itâs gone.â
âItâs not thirteen steps.â
âWhatever you wanna tell me, Roro, at least youâre not as bad as Snakey.â
Itâs the first time Roman manages to laugh that day, and Remus makes sure it isnât the last.
4.
When Patton and Logan have near simultaneous nervous breakdowns after someone calls Thomas lazy, Remus makes sure Virgilâs wrapped around the Mindscapeâs padre and Janus has Logan in his little snake den before he goes off in search of Roman.
The Imagination door is covered in cobwebs that retreat as he approaches, a few spiders waving hello as they disappear. He runs his hand over the keyhole, checking to see if itâs just an affectation, or if Roman really hasnât been using it. He knows he has, is the thing; Romanâs had more projects on the go this month than heâs ever had before and if it werenât for Janus and Logan dragging him out of it to make sure he didnât completely lose touch with the Mindscape, he bets his left barnacle that Roman wouldâve been living there too just so he wouldnât miss an opportunity to keep working. And sure enough, the keyhole glows red as soon as his fingers brush it and he carefully pushes the door open.
He walks into the most statistically average middle class sitcom home heâs ever seen. Needless to say, he hates it.
âRo? Are you here?â
Thereâs a faint noise coming from what he guesses is the direction of the living room and listen, as little time as he has to spend in this painfully mediocre place, the better. Seriously, he can feel the whispers of white picket fences and PTA meetings lingering ominously over his shoulder with every second he walks through these beige walls. Snatches of TV dialogue becomes audible as he makes his way through the house.
He comes to a stop.
He tilts his head.
Thereâs certainly a person in the living room, but it doesnât really look like Roman. They look like every Sunday cartoon about a husband and wife where itâs terribly misogynistic and heteronormative, recliner out, bag of chips in lap, staring vacantly at the TV. Itâs only the fact that theyâre crying at the paid advertising programs and that Remus would recognize his brother anywhere that he knows itâs Roman.
He sits down on the plastic covered couch and tries not to look at the soulless photos of smiling families perched on the dusty mantle. Roman doesnât look away from the screen but the hand nearest Remus twitches slightly.
âHey,â he calls, and Romanâs head turns a little, âhey, Roro. Iâm here. Itâs gonna be okay. Youâre gonna be okay.â
The TV blares something about a crockpot that cooks fancier meals than a normal crock pot.
âI know how shitty it is when people accuse you of being lazy. Especially when theyâre just complaining that they havenât seen anything from you.â He shuffles and the couch squeaks. âAnd we all know how hard youâre working. How hard Thomas is working.â
Romanâs eyes flick to his. Remus smiles and takes his hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze.
âGiving yourself a break isnât being lazy. Having a hard time doing things isnât lazy. Not being able to work on something because itâs just covered in the fucking ooze isnât being lazy. You arenât being lazy, okay? You wouldnât even be lazy if you decided you didnât want to work on any projects for the next year.â
The TV glitches out. Static fills the room and it actually feels like Remus can breathe. He squeezes Romanâs hand again and shifts closer. Roman stares at him with wide eyes.
âI mean it, Roro. Youâre notâI know weâve gone over this and Iâll keep giving you crowbars for as long as you need themââ
The smallest smile appears on Romanâs face.
ââbut youâre notâyour worth isnât in what products or content you can make. You know i love you because youâre my brother, because youâre funny and clever and ridiculous and thereâs no one Iâd rather make stuff with. You could decide that you donât want anything to do with Thomasâs career anymoreââ
Roman makes a devastated noise.
âCalm down, calm down, I know thatâs not true, Iâm just spouting a wild hypothetical, okay? If you decided to do that and I made sure it was really you and you hadnât lost some sort of bet, then yeah, Iâd still want you to be my brother. Weâd still do stuff. I donât give a shit what everyone else thinks.â
ââŠpromise?â
Remus could sob with relief at actually hearing Romanâs voice come out, and he grins so wide his cheeks start to hurt. âI promise, Roro, I promise. Youâre not lazy, youâre resting, and even if you were, I wouldnât care.â
ââM not trying to be lazy. ItâsâIâm justââ
âShh, shh, Roro, itâs okay,â The bag of chips falls to the ground and catches fire as Remus tugs his brother into his arms. âIâm right here. Youâre doing so good, okay? Thomas is too.â
Remus doesnât burn the house down because heâs had too many lectures from Janus about that, but he does get a big cartoon wrecking ball to smash the whole thing into smithereens.
He does burn the recliner though. And the plastic-covered couch. They deserved it.
5.
The latex gloves snap on as Roman sits on the edge of the tub with a grunt. He picks up the rest of the kit and sets it on the stool.
âDo you know what itâs about this time?â
âSomeone said something about how immature Thomas is being about criticism and how he canât take care of things, something like that.â
âWhy did it manifest as acne, then?â
âI donât know, maybe something about how teenagers who are hormonal and donât really know how to take care of their skin get acne?â
Remus snorts. âDo people still not understand that acne happens and can happen to anyone regardless of age?â
âApparently not.â
âWell, they can go lick the Krakenâs crack.â
âEw, Remus.â
âJust trying to keep the mood light.â He picks up one of the cotton swabs and a paper towel and leans down. âIâm gonna try and clean up some of the wet stuff first, okay? Then we can actually get onto some relief.â
âYouâre not gonna pop any of them, are you?â
âI donât think so. At least not right now.â
âBecause I really donât want this to scar.â
Remus hums, carefully running the swab over a particularly inflamed part of his cheek. âCan you give me a pain rating?â
âLike a 6? Itâs not that bad but itâs not a pain Iâm used to itâsâŠfreaking me out.â
âUnderstandable, have a nice day. If it ever gets too much, let me know and weâll switch to a cool pack, okay?â
Roman hums as Remus goes to work. A pile of discarded swabs and other trash accumulates at Remusâs elbow as he works patiently around the various, uh, âzones.â They have to stop a few times when it gets to a point where Romanâs whole face just aches, waiting for it to subside enough that Remus can keep going.
âThere are a couple down here that look like theyâre ready to go, do you want me to just get âem out?â
âBe careful.â
âSure, yeah. If it starts to hurt lemme know and Iâll back off right away.â
He gets a few of them, a few more putting up too much of a fight so he leaves them be. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Roman heroically stop two or three whimpers before he lightly jabs him in the stomach and tells him to knock that posturing shit off, he doesnât need it here.
ââŠthanks, Re.â
âI told you, it hurts too much, I stop.â
âI know.â He shifts on the tub. âI think itâs justâŠhard to remember.â
Remus frowns, glancing up at him. Roman fiddles with the hem of his prince costume.
âYou knowâŠwith the others?â
âNo. I donât know, Ro.â
âThey donâtâtheyâreâthey want Princey, Prince Roman. NotâŠthe rest of this.â He waves his hand to indicate the cotton carnage. âSo itâs hard toâŠâ
He trails off when he sees the expression on Remusâs face.
âWhat?â
âYou mean they donât know?â
âKnow what?â
âThat thisââ he waves at Romanâ âhappens to you. Any of it.â
âI mean, they know Iâm the Ego and it makes sense that I get hurt when Thomas feels bad, butââ
âBut not how much.â Roman wonât meet his gaze. âFuck, Ro.â
ââŠitâs complicated.â
âShit, no, Iâm notâlook at me, Ro. Iâm not mad at you. Iâm justâthis wasnât what Iâd hoped.â
Roman frowns. âWhat do you mean, what you hoped?â
Remus sighs. This is turning into way more of a conversation than heâd ever anticipated. Glancing around, he picks up the cold pack and hands to to Roman before taking a seat on the counter. His legs swing and kick at the cabinets with a quiet thunk-thunk, thunk-thunk.
âWhen the Split happened, and we went to the Dark Sides, IâŠdunno, I guess I thought it would beâŠbetter.â
âBecause we were separated?â
âWhat? No, no, because I had the stuff like Deceit and Anxiety with me, so they couldnât make any of this stuff worseânot that they would,â he says when Roman opens his mouth to protest, and wow, have they come a long way, âbut just âcauseâŠwell, yeah. You had Logic and Morality, who wereâdoesnât that make sense? That they would be able to help?â
Roman sighs. He picks at the edge of the ice pack. âItâs not that simple.â
âThen explain it to me.â
âLoganâs thing is object impermanence, you know that.â Remus winces in sympathy. âBut having someone tell you something isnât real when you can feel it and it is real, to you, thatâs notâŠthatâs not helpful. Itâs better if he just goes right to Thomas than coming to me.â
âAnd Patton?â
Roman lets out a humorless huff. âThomas is feeling bad and Patton is Thomasâs feelings. How do you think that normally goes?â
âŠyeah, probably not great.
âItâs not all bad,â he continues, softer now, âtheyâre at least good when I tell them I donât want to be disturbed. They donât ask questions if I tell them I donât want to talk about it.â
âThat feels suspiciously like the bare minimum.â Roman shrugs. âI know I literally just said the opposite, but do Janus and VirgilâŠ?â
âTheyâre both better at comforting the others. Itâs okay, Re, I have you. I really only want you when itâsâŠbad like this.â
âMe? Why?â
âYou get it.â
Remus chuckles, getting back up and picking up the next tool. âThat simple, huh?â
âSometimes itâs just that simple.â
âAw, I love you too, Roro. Youâre the specialist baby brother any Side could ever ask for.â
âYouâwhat the hell do you mean, âbaby brother?ââ
âYouâre the baby brother.â
âI am not.â
âAre too.â
âAm not.â
âAre too. Now hush so I donât accidentally poke your eye out.â
âIâm gonna get you back for this.â
âOh, Iâm so scared about that. Now hold still, Roro, letâs get this out of the way so you can feel better.â
ââŠlove you.â
âI love you too.â
+1.
The Imagination is upset. Roman feels it the second he steps foot through the door and forgoes his normal prince costume for a rougher tunic and boots, strapping his sword to his hip and an emergency pack to his back. The wind blows frigid and punishing over the grass as he starts down the trail, squinting through the dust clouds whipping up around him. The clouds frown around the edges of the tree line, darkening to a stormy black near the edge of the coast. As he nears the black cliffs, rocks crumble beneath him and tumble into a churning sea.
He edges carefully around the craggy rock face, keeping his movements light and careful. Spray whips him in the face as thunder rolls in the distance. The chill near rips his fingers from their precarious handholds. He grits his teeth and keeps going, even as the wind howl so loudly his ears near split from the pain.
There, a little ways down the cliff, is a small cove. He inches his way around the edge of the bluff and drops onto a larger path leading him along the coast. There isnât any sand here, only rough and unyielding stone. Froth and foam given them gleaming white teeth as the waves churn furiously around the mouth of the sea. He follows the path down, down towards he massive cracks in the sheer rock face, one eye on the black water below him. Despite being so close to the shore, thereâs no sign of a bottom and he doesnât want to risk how deep it is. Thereâs no telling what current might rip him into the open ocean if he falls in.
The cove is shaped like a spearâs point, the crack in the cliff at its very point as though some massive weapon had shattered the rocks themselves. As Roman nears it, the shadow at the base of the path slowly grows more and more defined, until he realizes that itâs a path through the cliff. The cove is an inlet leading into a hidden sea cave with a vast black lake in its center. Roman peers up at the glistening wet walls, hand on the wall as the wind whistles angrily by.
The water moves. He looks down. Something massive slips just underneath the surface, sending ripples to the shore. He crouches down and sees a huge shape getting closer and closer to the surface. An eye the size of a dining table glares up at him through the water and long arms with rows and rows of hooks reach up toward him.
âOllie, itâs me. Itâs Roman.â
The Kraken pause. The hooked arms retreat and he pokes his head up, letting out a mournful burble. Roman reaches over and taps the water. One of his other arms comes up and Roman pets soothingly along the skin.
âWhatâs the matter, buddy? Whatâs going on?â
Ollie burbles again and Roman suddenly realizes why the hooked arms were the ones to reach for him. Beneath the surface, the Krakenâs arms form a cradle of sorts, holding something close to the Krakenâs massive body. As the water shifts and ripples, the thing comes closer and closer to surface, slowly moving to reveal its precious cargo.
And there, nestled in the Krakenâs grip, covered in his own writhing tentacles, is Remus.
âOh, Re,â Roman murmurs as his brother twitches and whimpers, âwhat happened? Who did this?â
Ollie burbles again, holding him out, and Roman balances on the edge of the shoreline and stretches to hold on. The Kraken lifts him up and into the cradle too, letting him touch Remusâs frigid skin and shake him awake.
âRe? Re, wake up, itâs okay, Iâm here to help.â
The tentacles writhe as Remus stirs, blinking through a pained haze up at Roman. ââŠRo?â
âHey, Re, itâs me. Itâs okay, youâre gonna be okay. What happened?â
âThoughts got too loud.â A tentacle leaves a thick trail of slime across his arm and he shudders. âSorry.â
âWhat could you have to be sorry for?â
ââS gross.â
âYou stop that,â Roman chides gently, running his fingers through Remusâs wet hair, âI donât care if somethingâs gross, I care if itâs hurting you.â
Remus whimpers, clutching at one of Ollieâs arms. The Kraken squeaks back, trying in vain to warm him up, but thereâs only so much he can do in this freezing cave. Roman glances around and bites his lip.
âDoes it feel better in the water? Is that why you came down here?â
âYeah. Ollie came and f-found me.â
Roman pats the worried Kraken. âWhat do we need to do? Is it like caring for Ollieâs arms?â
âN-no. Like helping the jellyâjellyfish with the twistedâtwisted ones.â
Heâll bet just about anything that this frigid water isnât helping Remus do that, and itâs not like Ollie has opposable thumbs. He goes to slide into the water himself but Ollie chirps in alarm, hoisting them higher.
âWhatâre you doing?â
âIâm trying to help.â
Remus shakes his head, more slime trailing across his shivering body. âToo cold for you.â
âWell, then itâs definitely too cold for you. Can we get you somewhere warmer?â Remus curls up a little more. âWhat about that pool near the glowstone trees?â
âThatâs all the way on your side.â
âOllie can take you. Iâll meet you over there.â Remus stays quiet. Roman leans down and brushes the wet hair from his eyes. âWhat else is bothering you, Re?â
Two of the tentacles glob onto Roman and start leaving trails of slime across his tunic. Remus whimpers and reaches out a hand to yank them away. Itâs no use; the roiling mass just keeps smearing slime onto Roman as they try to pull him closer, no matter how hard Remus shoves them away.
Oh.
Oh.
âRe, youâre not too gross. Youâre not going to ruin anything. I want you to come with me so I can help you. I care about you. Let me help, please?â
It takes a painfully long moment for Remus to peek up at him and nod. Roman canât stop the way his shoulders sag in relief and he sits up, patting Ollieâs arm as the Kraken burbles happily.
âYouâŠyou really wanna help?â
âOf course I wanna help you, Re, youâre my brother.â
âOkay.â
âHave Ollie take you over to the pool, okay? Iâll meet you there.â
âHow are you gonna get there?â
âI have my ways.â
Remus grumbles and he sounds just enough like his normal self that Roman has to reach down and ruffle his hair, no matter how much Remus squawks about it. He climbs back off to the shore and watches Ollie sinks below the surface before he makes his way out to the ocean proper. Taking the charm from beneath his tunic, he closes his eyes and concentrates.
A screaming cry and the massive thudding of wings splits the wind.
Romanâs dragon lands just on the other side of the bluffs and he climbs on, taking off and soaring over the stormy sea. The dragon calls out over the waves and far beneath, he can see the shape of Ollie swimming through the depths. The clouds begin to part as they near the opposite coast, sun rays splitting the worst of the storm as the glowing trees appear on the horizon.
Romanâs dragon sets him down just on the edge of the shimmering pool. He pats its snout and it huffs, lying down on the sun-warmed grass and closing its eyes. As he walks toward the pool and begins to take off his boots, he spots Ollieâs shade moving through the inlet into the warmer water. He chuckles at the way the water vibrates with the Krakenâs pleased rumble.
Clad in just his boxers, he slips into the water and through the tangle of arms to draw Remus into the warmth. Remus immediately tuns and clings to him like a limpet, shivering from the temperature change.
âI know, I know,â Roman murmurs as he starts to work his hands patiently through the mass of tentacles, âjust hold onto me. I can still kind of stand here, Iâve got you.â
âYou gonna take care of me?â
âYeah, Re, Iâm gonna take care of you.â
Heâs rewarded with a sleepy hum and Remus snuggles into him. âYouâre the best.â
âNo, youâre the best. The best baby brother anyone could ever ask for.â
âAm not.â
âAre too.â
Remus might mutter an am not back, but itâs muffled by his tired slump into Romanâs arms. Roman just chuckles. Heâs sure itâll come up again at some point.
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