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pagesoflauren · 4 years

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Love & Brotherhood Epilogue (Steve Rogers x reader; cowboy!AU, mob!AU)

Summary: Sequel to Ride & Prejudice. Now that you’re married to Steve, ghosts from both your pasts are coming to haunt you. A power move by your brother-in-law sets off a chain reaction: many truths are uncovered and your beloved cowboy’s righteous nature may lead him to getting his hands dirty.

Warnings: kidnapping, non-con, gang/mob violence, gun violence, death, physical altercations, sibling abuse (mental/physical), trauma, swearing, major angst, smut. This will be darker compared to Ride & Prejudice.

A/N: And suddenly...this story has come to an end. maybe.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

The rest of September paints the leaves bright, warm colors. Sam delivers beautiful pumpkins for you and Nat to turn into various desserts. At night, when Steve breathes in your hair, he comments that you smell of cinnamon and clove.

October brought plans to build an extension for your home, one that will allow Peter to have a more private space. Though, after some convincing, there’s a need to expand more.

Steve, ever stubborn, refuses to leave your side unless it’s absolutely necessary. With Bucky and Nat taking turns going out with the cows to pasture with Thor and Peter, sometimes three isn’t enough to handle twenty cows. Above that, Thor still has the hardware store to run, despite his younger brother taking up some management roles in his absence.

It’s then that Steve decides (after much persuasion from you) to post a job listing for a new cattle hand, bringing in one Carol Danvers into the picture.

Tall, thin and blonde, the woman was truly a formidable goddess. She moved with an air that said “Don’t mess with me” and clearly possessed a domineering aura that competed with Steve’s. Completely adept, she’s the perfect addition, easily adjusting to life on the ranch.

November brings many tasks. After plans for expanding the house were approved, Steve, Bucky, Peter, Carol and occasionally Thor got to working straight away. Setting foundations in what was formerly your backyard, they built a deck and started construction on a two bedroom casita. At the end of the days, you would patch up not only Steve, but Peter and Thor as well. Their construction was set to be finished by the end of your pregnancy if all went well.

Just before Thanksgiving, Steve brings you to the hospital for an ultrasound.

You change into a hospital gown, laying back and trying to get comfortable despite your nerves.

“Hey,” Steve says, taking one of your hands in his, “Everything’s gonna be fine. Doctor said there’s no need to be worried.”

Exhaling slowly, you nod. Pulling your hand out of his grasp, you tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Back to its normal length, you smile as you continue running your fingers through the locks. The hand that once held yours gravitates to rest on your belly.

There’s a knock at the door and you both look, seeing your OB/GYN come in.

Handshakes and pats on the shoulders are exchanged before she starts giving a quick rundown of items this scan will cover. Once everything’s been discussed, she puts on a pair of gloves and grabs a bottle of the infamous gel that is used during ultrasounds (infamous because you’ve seen it on TV and heard it from your friends back home...it’s cold). You do indeed flinch at the temperature, causing Steve to jump.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer, putting your hand up, “It’s just cold.”

He relaxes and chuckles, taking your hand again.

The doctor smoothes the gel over your entire belly, a little swollen, and turns on the machine before retrieving the transducer to press on your belly.

“I’m just going to push down slightly…”

Once she gets a good placement of the device on your stomach, she turns her attention to the monitor.

The black screen shows fuzzy splashes of gray and the picture changes as you feel the transducer move lower. You take a few deep breaths--it tickles a little.

Suddenly, all the thoughts in your mind give way to dread when you hear something that sounds like an alarmingly fast heart rate. Concern curtains your face and your doctor furrows her brows. Fuzzy gray spots splash across the screen before you see it: a singular...wait...

“I think…! Hold on,” your doctor says excitedly, moving the transducer again, trying to catch the image from another angle. “Oh, look at that!”

“What?” Steve asks, completely in the dark, “What is it?”

He frantically looks at the screen before looking at you, then the doctor.

“You’re having twins!” she answers, absolutely tickled pink.

You remember what your husband had said to you months ago, when you decided to start trying for a baby.

“Well, I’m just thinkin’ if I’m a twin, we should probably be prepared for that. Genetics and all.”

He sputters for a moment, choppy “t” and “tw” sounds escaping his mouth before he gets up and leans in very close to the screen. A finger points to one gray blob and then moves to the other.

“Twins?” he asks, “Two?”

“Yes,” the doctor smiles.

“Two!!!”

When he looks at you, you can see the exhilaration in his face. His whole body shakes with it and he almost looks like he’s going to explode.

“Steve,” you laugh, “Calm down, I don’t want you to combust.”

“Oh but I could!” he nearly shouts, causing some chuckles to bubble from the doctor. When he sits down next to you, his momentum causes the chair to roll a little too far and you laugh. You’ve never seen him so spastic since your wedding day.

The doctor timidly tells you she does still need to take some measurements and do a checkup, so Steve reins in his emotions to sit through the rest of the appointment. After ballparking your pregnancy at three months, she sends you home with more information packets and a list of recommended maternity books to pick up.

After coming home, you share the news at dinner, drawing excitement from everyone around the table. Bucky grabs Steve by the shoulders and gives him a good shake to express his congratulations. Nat’s elation mimics what you saw when you first discovered your pregnancy and Carol gives you a light punch on the arm before completely socking Steve in the arm. He doesn’t expect it, flinching back and throwing her a glare while holding his hand over the now tender spot on his bicep. She just shrugged and returned to eating her pasta. Peter, who’s holding Winnie in his lap, makes her clap her hands as she giggles.

From dinner to tucking Winnie in with Nat, she gushes about all the baby prep that she can’t wait to help you with. Steve holds your hand while you walk home with Peter and Carol, and you bid them goodnight before retreating to your respective bedrooms.

You and Steve go through your bedtime routine, brushing your teeth and flossing and changing into pajamas because you ask him to braid your hair. Sat between his legs, you feel so relaxed as he weaves pieces of your hair into a neat plait and fastens the ends with a hair tie. He doesn’t give you a chance to move, wrapping his arms around your middle to rest his palms over your belly. You feel the prickle of his beard on the crook of your neck when he rests his chin there.

“They’re in there,” he whispers. You can hear the smile in his voice. Resting your hands over his, you weave your fingers in with his as best you can.

“Yeah,” you smile, “They are.”

“My babies,” he mutters, sounding a little watery.

You giggle and pinch the back of his hand, “Our babies, you doofus.”

He hums in agreement. “Of course,” he chuckles, pressing bristly kisses up your neck and into your cheek. More giggles bubble from you and you lean back to give him access to your mouth. His kiss is firm and says so many things without him needing to use words.

You settle into bed, warm and safe in the corner, cuddled next to Steve. Looking into his eyes, you have no doubts that you will be able to weather anything the future holds for you as long as he’s next to you. One more kiss is placed on your forehead.

“Goodnight, sugar cube.”

Tagging: @andiebell2023 @jhayes6984 @downheartedboi @deidrashouseofpain @what-is-your-plan-today @brooklyn-1918 @dumblani @leosandbuckysgirl @jamielea81 @pinkleopardss @ntlmundy @widowvinter @loveleighwhannell @inactivewhore @buchanansebba @asiaaisa77 @icanfeelastormbrewing @saiyanprincessswanie @fckdeusername @asleepywirewolf @abbyalee @patzammit @mycornerofthefandoms @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @disneylovingal

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #Love & Brotherhood #ficsofpagesoflauren

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Always Here

Connor Walsh & Michaela Pratt (How To Get Away With Murder)

Warnings: MAJOR TW: Rape, Trauma, PTSD, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationship

Summary: Following the less than poor advice of her ‘friends’ Michela finds herself at the apartment and in the hands of a piece of scum eager to take advantage of her. Connor is not having any of it, rushing to her rescue and impatient to teach the bastard a lesson, punish him for the horrible, disgusting thing he did to his friend.

Requested by Anon as a birthday fic. Hello dear, happy birthday! Hope you have the best one yet! Sorry for the downer of a fic for such a happy day in your life (I was genuinely surprised when you requested such an angsty fic but I’m not complaining) hope you enjoy the read nonetheless. Enjoy your special day, hope you have a ton of fun and make great memories! Lots of love, Vy ❤

“Nah, I think you’re judging him too heavily.“ Laurel comments, taking a sip from the coffee cup on her desk, “He seemed rather nice when I got to talk to him last week. He seems to be really into you too.“

“Well, just because he’s into me doesn’t mean I’m into him.“ Michaela points out, irritation in her voice and a shudder running down her spine at the memory of the creep Laurel talked her into meeting a week ago - Charles Mahoney. Michaela immediately felt the oddest and creepiest vibes coming off the guy, but Laurel was persistent and Michaela tried to talk herself into trusting her friend’s judgement, despite her gut screaming at her to get out of the situation, accompanied by the alarm going off wildly in her head. The guy didn’t do anything to set off those alarms and he wasn’t acting like a creep per se but as Michaela put it when complaining to Connor later that same day: He seemed like a creep trying to act and behave like a normal person would. Connor noted the odd feeling he had in regards of that guy.

It was something about his demeanor, but not something she could pin-point to Laurel and use as concrete evidence that her gut was right. And, as a lawyer, she knew that without concrete evidence she wouldn’t get anywhere with that argument.

“Or it just means you’re too picky.“ Laurel swoops the file out of Michaela’s hands, earning herself a death glare from her friend, “Who says you have to date the guy? Just have some fun, a couple of drinks. Maybe a hook-up if you’re feeling it. Who knows where that might lead?“ She sits back down and flips open the file, eyes skimming over the text as if the discussion is over on her part.

Michaela’s about to complain when Asher decides to share his two cents on the subject, “Right! I agree with Laurel, he seemed like a nice guy. To be fair, we didn’t get to talk much, but he seems like a cool dude. Easy on the eyes too, not gonna lie.“

Michaela rolls her eyes, having heard enough about this Mahoney guy from these two. In fact, they’ve been playing this game of persuasion for two days now, neither of them giving a concrete reason on why they were doing it. Although, she might have a guess on their intentions: a few too many drinks one night and she ended up spilling her guts on how lonely she feels sometimes. She did her best in that drunken state to pack the emphasis on ‘sometimes’ but Asher and Laurel seem to have brushed past that bit, seeing as how they’ve made it their personal duty to play matchmakers. If only their choice of guys to pair her with wasn’t so crappy, they may have come in handy to fill the nights she didn’t have any work to do and really felt the lack of company setting in.

Seeing no other way to get the two off her back for good other than feed into their attempts and humor their ideas, Michaela sighs exasperatedly, resting her forehead in the palm of her hand as she speaks, “Will you get off my case if I give him a call and go out with him tonight?”

Asher opens his mouth but Laurel cuts him off before he can throw their chances of succeeding with this in the water, “Permanently. A lawyer’s word.” She nods, giving Michaela a tight-lipped smile that’s supposed to represent faux innocence which instead hides her fondness of her success at last.

“A lawyer’s word doesn’t mean much.“ Michaela mutters under her breath but pulls out her phone nonetheless, standing up to exit into the hallway to make the phone call to Charles Mahoney. She stops in her tracks, turning on her heel to face Laurel once more before exiting the room, “We need a safe-word, just in case.“ She snaps her fingers, trying to get a simple word to come to mind for the purpose of a GTFO signal.

Laurel suddenly gets an idea, “How does ‘trophy’ sound to you?”

Michaela can’t help the shiver that runs down her spine, “Like a nightmare and a ton of bad memories.” She replies bitterly, knitting her brows together in a displeased frown.

Her friend tilts her head to the side, “Then it’s perfect.”

She contemplates Laurel’s reply for a second. Well, contemplates the whole situation and the decision she’s about to make. Sure, it might not be final and she could still cancel if she changes her mind later on, but it’s still a borderline ridiculous move to make. But, when compared to finally being given some peace from the pesky Asher and Laurel, she finds spending a few hours with Mahoney to be worth it.

So, with that, Michaela turns back around, heading out in the hallway to make the phone call she has no idea will lead to the worst moments of her life.

* * *

“Oh shit!“ Laurel curses, quickly disconnecting her phone from the charger where she had left it while her and Asher went to buy some dinner for the rest of the team to enjoy back at the office after Annalise had called in they were on their way and they had some important news to share with them. Some concerning news, if her voice was anything to go by.

“What’s up?“ Asher asks, setting the plastic bags he’s been carrying on his desk.

“Missed calls and texts from Michaela. Twenty seven of them, almost all saying ‘Trophy’.“ Laurel replies with a sigh that’s a mix of frustration and concern. The call goes to voicemail almost right away which only fuels the concern as she taps the button to call again. “Shit, she’s not answering.“

“She’s texted and called me too.“ Asher says, taking a look at his phone, “She could be in danger.“

“I know, Asher! I know she could be in danger!“ Laurel snaps, squeezing the phone tightly, pressing it against her ear, swearing and fighting the urge to slam it on the floor when the second call also goes to voicemail, “Damn it!“

Just then, the door to the office opens and in walks Connor, closely followed by Annalise and Frank who he ran into on his way in. The mention of a ‘she’ that could be in danger immediately puts him on edge as his eyes skim over the room, looking for his frenemy - Michaela Pratt. ‘On-edge’ is replaced by an early onset of panic when he takes in her absence, connecting the dots that the ‘she’ Laurel was referring to is indeed her. But, just to be safe and avoid a false alarm, he decides to fake nonchalance and ask: “Danger? What’s going on here?“ He tilts his head, his gaze switching from Laurel who’s still trying to reach Michaela to Asher who is doing his best to avoid eye-contact with anyone in the room.

Annalise cuts the crap, way less nonchalant than him, “Where’s Miss Pratt? Didn’t I tell you all to stay in one spot?“

Laurel looks to Asher for backup, but when she realizes she’s clearly not gonna get any, she turns back to look at Annalise, feeling as though she’s shrinking under the woman’s intense and powerful gaze. “I-it’s my fault. Michaela left before you called and...”

“And she’s now gonna come back! Call her and tell her to return her ass here as soon as possible!“ Annalise cuts her off, her eyes glinting with anger the Keating 5 were so used to seeing yet were terrified of just the same no matter how many times they saw it.

“Well, that’s the thing. She left two hours ago to meet with Mahoney and she isn’t picking up her phone and...“ Laurel trails off, the words dying down in her throat, failing to reach or leave her mouth.

“And we think she could be in danger.“ Asher whispers, finally finding it in himself to speak up despite feeling guilty as all hell.

Annalise’s eyes widen as her heart drops, a sickening feeling overcoming her in the form of cold sweat covering her whole body at once, “YOU THINK?!” She snaps, eyes briefly blurred by tears. “You think she could be in danger when she’s in the hands of a fucking rapist?!”

The phone slips from Laurel’s hand, falling to the floor with a crash at the sound of that word. Asher’s reaction is not different by much - he becomes but a frozen statue in his spot, both him and Laurel looking at Annalise with deer-caught-in-headlights looks and pale faces that suggest Annalise’s heart isn’t the only one that’s dropped. Fear, guilt and despair has paralyzed the two in their spot, unable to think of something to do. Unable to find it in themselves to move.

One person, however, doesn’t remain paralyzed. He takes action, driven by his protective instinct that has set off all the alarms in his head and has sent shots of adrenaline pumping through his veins at a rapid pace. With trembling hands, Connor pulls out his phone, the one calm part of his brain reminding him of his pact with Michaela to always share their location with each other. Opening the app, he reads the address out loud. “Where is that place?!” He snaps, unable to contain his anger that’s blended in with the dreadful sense of fear for his friend’s safety and well-being which are most definitely at a huge risk at this very moment.

“The fucker’s apartment.“ Frank replies, looking up from his own phone where he had looked up the address Connor read out.

Without a second to spare, ignoring the fact his blood’s run cold and the numbness in his face and limbs, Connor takes off, running out of the office and straight to his car, closely followed by the rest of them.

“Connor, wait!“ Annalise attempts to stop him, but you cannot stop a hurricane with your bare hands. And this hurricane is a raging beast with a mission to save his friend and teach the fucker who’d dare touch her or harm her a lesson in the form of beating him bloody.

‘God, please tell me I’m not too late‘, he chants to himself silently, praying for the first time in a long while. ‘Please, keep her safe just a little longer, then I’ll take over.’

Little does he know, the worst has already happened.

* * *

Michaela feels herself coming back to her senses. She doesn’t want to wake up though. She wants for her eyes to remain closed and for her to perish, never again to be seen by the world outside of this apartment that to her now represents hell on Earth. Her survival instincts are kicking in but rather lowly and slowly, almost as if they’re afraid of scaring her or making her snap. So, instead of making an effort to move, she stays completely still and listens, takes in her surroundings. She can’t see much without turning her head which is facing the ceiling, but she’s too afraid to do so. As if her body has been rigged with explosives and the tiniest movement could set them off.

The first thing she hears is the sound of a shower running not too far away. The sound is faint but not faint enough, and neither is the humming that’s accompanying it. She recognizes the tune, she’s recently heard it. With a slight tilt of her head she catches a glimpse of a coffee table which has red wine spilled on it, one wineglass has fallen over and is still dripping tiny red drops alike blood on the carpeted floor. She vaguely recognizes the setting and she feels sickened looking at it, but it takes her a moment or two to place exactly why she feels that way.

And then it hits her.

The tune the voice is humming, she heard it in a bar earlier. The bar she went out to have drinks at. With Charles Mahoney. The Charles Mahoney who then persuaded her into going back to his apartment for a continuation of their drinking session. She remembers the repulsion she felt at the thought of going, but she wasn’t receiving any help from neither Laurel nor Asher whom she has texted and called countless times. So, she succumbed, regretting every step she took that led her closer to his apartment. Her gut was screaming at her the whole time, repeating over and over how bad of an idea that was and how she should make up some bullshit excuse and ditch the situation.

But she didn’t.

And he took advantage of it. Of her body, her tipsy vulnerability. Of her.

It was my fault

With that horribly wrong thought in mind, tears rush to Michaela’s eyes prickling them, begging to escape and relieve the tiniest portion of her pain. She allows them to, the silent tears slowly turning into suppressed sobs that escape her aching chest as she continues lying on that couch, helpless and in pain that cannot be healed or seen.

Her sobs come to an abrupt halt when a round of aggressive and loud knocks, or rather bangs are delivered to the front door that right beside the living room. She only then becomes aware of the subsiding of the running water in the shower. She renders herself silent, faking unconsciousness when she hears the bathroom door open, followed by hurried footsteps coming down the hall, passing the living room and stopping at the front door.

Charles had expected many things, but what he didn’t see coming was the punch that sent him falling to the floor with a broken nose as soon as he opened the door. He didn’t even get a good view of the person but he recognized the voice that called out to the girl he had raped barely an hour prior.

“Michaela!“ Connor shouted, his chest aching, heart racing so loud he could hear it in his ears. He rushed down the hall but stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of the living room where he found who he was looking for. And he found her in a state that broke his heart, “Michaela! Oh God, I’m too late! Fuck!“

Hearing the familiar voice of her friend, Michaela’s eyes snap open, catching sight of Connor’s concerned face hovering over hers. “Connor.” Her coarse voice barely makes it out of her throat in the form of a choked up sob.

Grabbing a blanket from the nearby armchair, Connor wraps it around Michaela covering her almost completely naked her body. Securing the blanket in place, he takes her face in his hands, directing her gaze to his eyes to prevent her from looking anywhere else, prevent her from seeing anything that will further confirm what has happened to her. “It’s ok, you’re ok now. I’m here. I’m here, Michaela and I will never leave you again, ok? You hear me? Focus on my voice, ok? It’s over, he can’t hurt you ever again. The cops are on their way...”

“Hands in the air! Get up! Search the apartment!“ Just as Connor says that, the urgent shouts of cops come from the hall, startling Michaela while also giving her the smallest spec of relief as she once again breaks out in a fit of uncontrollable sobs that are the result of that mix of trauma, emptiness, relief and disgust.

Connor wraps his arms around her pulling her close and resting her head on his chest, not making any attempts at subduing her cries, aware that she needs to get it out of her system before having to face and deal with anything else.

“Michaela?!“ The shout of her own name doesn’t get registered by her, but Connor hears it and feels rage building inside of him when he sees Laurel, Asher, Annalise and Frank enter the living room, “Oh God, Michaela, I’m so sor-“

“You’ve done enough damage!“ He snaps at her, the message meant for Asher as well, “Leave her alone, she’s had it with you and you bright ideas!“

Just then, a cop approaches him and Michaela. He’s not spared Connor’s death glare either, but he doesn’t allow himself to be too intimidated by it, “Sir, we’ll need to take Miss Pratt to a hospital and then to the station to give a statement.“

The rage continues bubbling up inside of him but forces himself to stay calm, seeing as how he’s talking to an officer, “You really think she’s fit for an examination and questioning right now? Can’t you see how traumatized she is?”

“It’s procedure, sir. We must follow a very strict protocol in these situations. Miss Pratt needs a proper examination and all harm done to her needs to be aided and handled properly.“ The officer makes another attempt at persuading the distressed Connor whose arms are still wrapped around the trembling Michaela who suddenly raises her head off his chest, placing her hand there instead.

“It’s ok, Connor. I-I can handle it. But...“ she trails off, a stray tear escaping her eye again.

“But what? Tell me, what do you need?“ he takes her hands in his, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

She inhales shakily before replying, “Could you stay with me? I mean, could you come with me for...well, for it all. I don’t wanna go through it alone.” She bites her lips, still looking down where their hands are connected, unable to look him in the eyes because of how weak and pathetic she feels that request was.

“Of course, Michaela. I wasn’t planning on leaving even if you tried chasing me away.“ He gives her hands a reassuringly, “I’m always gonna be here for you, ok? Never forget that.“

That finally gets Michaela to look up and allow her eyes to meet his. Fresh tears have welled up in her eyes, having grown emotional because of Connor’s words as she whispers a barely-audible, ‘Thank you.’ which says a lot more than just her gratitude for him accepting her request.

It shows how grateful she is to have a friend like him, to have him as a friend. How thankful she is he found her and is willing to stay with her through the nauseating experience she’s about to endure. How happy she is to have found a safe haven in his embrace - his arms serving as a barrier, keeping her safe and shielded from the world that has harmed her so many times and will continue doing so. She’s just glad she won’t have to heal her wounds on her own, all alone. She’ll never have to deal with anything by herself, cause she has him - someone she trusts. Those people have been rare in her life - the trustworthy ones - Connor has the privilege to be one of them. One day, he might even hear her say it, not that he needs to hear it to know though.

That’s what their friendship is - a connection that doesn’t require verbal communication in order to reach an understanding. Even if that understanding has more often than not been ‘agree to disagree’. Still, a friendship as strong as a fortress nonetheless.

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 5 years

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Pairings: Romantic Dukexiety, Romantic Loginceit

Word Count: 1971 Words

Summary: Logan ducks out to prove a point but it doesn’t work out when the light sides don’t care.

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit/Morally Grey Deceit, Morally Grey Remus, Unsympathetic/Abusive Patton, Ducking Out, Manipulation, Physical Abuse, Violence, Accidental Injury, Head Injury, let me know if I should add anything else.

Note: Anything like ‘this’ is an thoughts. Bold like this is a lie.

Somebody’s Gonna Get Hurt

He could feel their joy with his leaving. It made his chest burn with anger, they were supposed to care about him leaving! Logan growled slightly at the subconscious and decided to wander around until he got to the dark side of the conscious.

Both dark sides who had exposed themselves to Thomas were outside behind a house almost like to the Mind Palace but more cathedral-like and castley than the home Roman had created. He could see spiral staircase towers.

Two of windows on the back two towers were open revealing a library and a craft room. It looked like a beautiful dream to see the castle Remus had made for just him and Deceit. And the garden the snakelike side kept around it made it even prettier.

Deceit was taking care of a bed of what looked like and was about to move onto the cymbidium orchids and yellow ranunculus flowers while Remus was running around with two dogs, a husky and a Samoyed, seemingly playing with them.

Deceit was occasionally throwing a glance to Remus to check on the green side as the demented side conjured dog toys like no tomorrow until he got tackled by two fluffy, happy dogs. He wanted to be a part of a family like that. Logan nearly froze and stopped breathing when Remus noticed him.

“Oh, hey, Logibear! Whatcha doing on this side of the Mind?” The creative side greeted him, getting Deceit’s full attention and the deceitful side turned to look at them.

“Logan?” The yellow side asked, brushing his front clean of the dirt from the garden.

“Hi.” He greeted them awkwardly.

“Are you ducking out?” Remus asked, looking into the dark subconscious Logan had come from.

“I am, yes.” Logan admitted.

“Well, you can always not visit us, Logan.” Deceit reminded him.

“I’ll keep that invitation in mind, thank you.” The blue side accepted.

“Don’t be safe!” Deceit called after him.

“Wouldn’t want you getting torn limb from limb!” Roman chirped happily. “Sorry.” The demented side added not a second later.

“Thank you, I will.” So he retreated back to the darkness to move his room back since it wasn’t even working, the light sides weren’t coming to get him even after a week when it had only taken a day of Virgil being ducked out.

He tried to ignore the gnawing feeling at Patton’s thinly veiled disappointment and Virgil’s discomfort at him coming back. He even managed a smile when Roman didn’t notice the difference because he’d been so busy all week. At least Roman has a seeable reason to ignore his absence.

So he made good on his acceptance of Deceit’s offer and began stopping by the dark castle to inform them of the current situation of the Mindscape or even just to be around people who actually listened. It was a complete turn visiting them than visiting the light sides.

The lights all stayed in their rooms and only came out for discussions. But here, both occupants were always out of their rooms and keeping each other company. Hell, the first time he’d come over Remus was dancing around the living room to music while Deceit and Logan had made tea and dinner in the kitchen.

They interacted and it didn’t feel forced like it did with the light sides. Logan liked it here, he felt wanted. So he kept going, and, eventually, got accepting into their odd, happy little family. Then Patton and Virgil found out where he disappeared to on Fridays.

“You can’t just leave us, Logan!” Patton yelled at him.

“I’m not!” Logan insisted.

“You’re a dark side!” Patton snapped.

“I visit them and we talk about space and philosophy and fantasy!” Logan shot back.

“Lo, you should leave.” Virgil croaked out.

“What?” Logan asked.

“You need to leave! Dark sides aren’t allowed in the light!” Virgil snapped at him. Logan glared at them but left to Deceit and Remus again and the blue and green sides moved his room to the castle Remus lovingly called the Mind Castle. It was huge inside, it made his room bigger with more capacity for creative control.

He loved being here. But there was the issue of discussions being difficult. He would still show up to debates like nothing had changed, or, at least until Remus showed up again and Patton sighed and groaned and whined about having two dark sides present.

“Ugh, why would you dark sides leave us alone!?” Roman visibly recoiled at that.

“Patton, what-” Roman tried to ask.

“Shut up, Princey! Don’t side with the dark sides!” Virgil snapped at him.

“What are you talking about?” Thomas asked.

“Patton and Virgil told me I’m a dark side so I had to move my room to the dark side of your mind.” Logan explained.

“Hey, you didn’t say anything about being forced!” Remus looked at the blue side.

“I felt the reason of my leaving was unnecessary to share. I’m not one of you, after all, you wouldn’t truly care.” Remus gave an offended scoff.

“Like hell would I not care! You’re family, of course I care! Dee loves you and that means you’re family to me! I care about you just the same as I care about Dee and Virgil!” Remus exclaimed to make his point. Virgil shifted away.

“Virgil, you’re still a dark side?” Patton asked darkly.

“No, I’m not! I swear! I’ve changed, Pat! I’m not one of them!” Virgil tried to convince the aqua side.

“I took you in! I accepted you!” Virgil backed up on the stairs and nearly tripped on them.

“Pat, you’re scaring me.” Virgil gripped the bannister, trying to move back away from the fatherly side.

“I’ll give you something to be scared of.” Patton growled and stalked to the purple side, grabbing into his hair and smacking him across the face. Remus swung his morningstar toward Patton, intending revenge for hurting Virgil. But, unable to stop the trajectory from where Patton once stood, he couldn’t stop his weapon from colliding with Virgil when Patton moved out of the way.

“Virgil!” The green side exclaimed, his weapon poofing from existence just the second before Virgil hit the ground. Remus dropped to his knees and checked over the the anxious side’s unconscious body. “Vee, come on, wake up.” Remus tried to convince him, but he didn’t.

“He’s useless anyway. Let him die.” Patton snapped, kicking Virgil’s feet out of his way as he went back to his spot.

“This is your fault! You did this! You moved him into the way!” Remus screamed at him, knocking the aqua side over, anger practically tangible as Thomas came over to check on Virgil too, shaking his side a bit in the an attempt to wake him.

“Don’t move him. He might head trauma. Let me see him.” Logan told him, turning on the flashlight on his phone and opened Virgil’s eyes to look into them, finding uneven pupils. “He has a concussion.” Logan announced as he turned off his phone’s flashlight.

“How dare you-” Patton tried to yell at Remus for making him fall.

“Shut up! Just shut up! You made me hurt him!” Remus screamed at him, trying to stem the blood flow from Virgil’s head. Roman soon joined him once his shock wore off, trying to heal the wound. Patton angrily sank out, practically fuming.

“Please be alive, Vee. I love you too much for you to leave me like this.” Virgil gave a soft groan, moving a little bit to curl up more. Remus bursted into tears at the movement. “Virgil, please wake up.” Remus practically begged the purple side.

“Ree?” Virgil whined, eyes refusing to open, but he was at least responsive.

“Virgil, can you open your eyes for me?” Logan asked him.

“I’m tired, mom.” Virgil slurred out.

“Virgil, I’m not your mother, please open your eyes for me.” Virgil opened his eyes slowly, eyes darting around, still uneven, but he had managed to open them and was, again, responsive.

“Virgil, do you feel any pain?” Logan asked.

“Too loud.” Virgil tried to cover his ears but Logan held his hands away from his head.

“So you have a headache?” Logan asked.

“Let me go, Patton! I’ll be good, I promise!” Virgil tried to fight away from him, beginning to hypervenilate and have an anxiety attack.

“Virgil, breathe. Patton isn’t here, he can’t hurt you.” Logan assured him, which calmed the anxious side down significantly and he stopped fighting away.

“I don’t feel good.” Virigl warned. Roman immediately conjured a bucket that the purple side immediately threw up into.

“He definitely has head trauma. I’d need to run tests later once I make sure he doesn’t have any seizures.” Logan alerted them.

“Seizures?” Remus asked, eyes shining with fear. He understood that look. He was scared he’d hurt Virgil forever, he was scared he’d ruined Virgil from ever functioning the same again.

“He’ll be okay, Remus. Even if he does end up having seizures. It wasn’t your fault, I’m sure he knows that.” Logan assured him. Virgil groaned, trying to stand stubbornly but Roman kept him from moving around too much and Thomas supported his stumbling anxiety.

“Virgil, come on. You need to lie down.” Logan admonished him, Roman thankfully having the mind to sit Virgil on the couch and keep him there. Virgil was just confused, Logan knew, but his patient was quite frustrating when he couldn’t keep a good handle on him.

“Good, thank you, Roman. Remus can you conjure a medical pole? I’ll need to get saline and anti-seizure medication into him somehow.” Logan told the twins.

“On it, Teach.” Remus did as Logan asked and Logan himself conjured the medical supplies, saline, and depakote himself. Virgil didn’t seem to want to move this time, even while Logan rolled up his sleeve and put the needle into his elbow.

“Virgil, you can move your arm if you want, it’s not a needle, it’s tubing to get the saline in.” Purple eyes gazed at him for a moment before the other side gave a groan and turned to his side, going back to sleep.

Logan didn’t want to move him once he’d fallen asleep. So they all stayed there for the time being. Remus did summon Deceit, though, so the snake could be informed of the situation.

After a bit of the IV going, Logan put a dose of the anti-seizure medication into the IV and Virgil whined in his sleep but didn’t complain much more than that. That night, they all took shifts to watch Virgil to make sure he’d be okay.

And, in the morning, Virgil seemed much the same but that was pretty expected, he’d need a bit of help for a little bit while he healed. It shouldn’t take more than a week with his healing ability as a side.

And, now that Patton was lurking in the shadows, Logan returned to the light sides, taking Remus and Deceit along with him and the twins combined their much-loved homes to be half of either one, a wonderful mix of everyone as the rooms expanded to the size of Remus’ castle rooms while retaining the comfy, cozy feeling Roman’s creations gave off.

Virgil eventually healed right up well enough and Logan got his ‘fairy tale ending’ with Deceit and Roman. Logan wouldn’t complain with how cute Deceit was cuddled up to his front, asleep, as Roman laid behind him, backs pressed together as the romantic side worked on his current writing on his phone. He couldn’t ask for more.

Taglist: @youre-not-alive @vicdehart @emile-crunchybutter

#sanders sides #unsympathetic patton #sympathetic deceit #abusive patton #romantic dukexiety #dukexiety #romantic loginceit #loginceit #tw ducking out #tw manipulation #tw physical abuse #tw violence #tw injury #snoweywrites

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bestillmyslashyheart · 5 years

Text

we get by with a little help from our friends 3/?

On Ao3, part 2, part 1

Isobel eyed the number of cars parked in front of Michael’s trailer and drove a little to the side. She wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon but she didn’t want to block anyone in.

Maria’s car was instantly recognizable but the other, a bland sedan, was unknown. Isobel gave it a curious look as she walked up and opened the door.

“Oh sorry!” She exclaimed when she walked in on a man pulling his shirt down over his chest. “Patrick, right?” She guessed. She recognized him as one of Alex’s (and she supposed Michael’s) friends from the night at the Pony but she wasn’t sure if it was Patrick or Chad.

“Right. Isobel?” The man asked in return. He smiled when she nodded. “Michael’s over by one of the work stations talking to Maria.”

Ah, that would explain her car but their absence. “Thanks,” she said slowly. “And what are you doing in his trailer?” She didn’t want to assume anything but a gorgeous man getting dressed in Michael’s home while he had a private discussion with his girlfriend did beg a certain question.

Patrick smiled like he knew what she was thinking. “I was helping him with an engine and got hit with a spurt of oil. Got all over my shirt and my face so I came in here to clean up and change.”

She eyed the shirt stretched tight across his shoulders. “You brought a change of clothes?”

Patrick’s forehead creased in confusion but Isobel nodded at the Air Force logo emblazoned across his chest. “Oh, no,” he told her, laughing. “I think this is Alex’s. I found it in the drawer.” He thumbed over his shoulder in the direction of Michael’s meager attempt at a closet.

Well, wasn’t that an interesting thought?

“Fuck you, Guerin!” Maria’s voice suddenly carried across the yard. Either that or they were a lot closer than Isobel had guessed. Isobel and Patrick exchanged glances before silently agreeing not to eavesdrop

“So they’re…” she drifted off in an attempt to fill the silence.

Patrick winced. “Having a long overdue conversation? I think so.”

Isobel hummed and propped her hip against the counter. “What do you know?”

“I’m sorry?”

“No, I don’t think you are,” Isobel told him. “You seem to be very close with my brother and with Alex. Considering I didn’t know you existed and Michael never actually told me he and Alex were a thing, you have a substantial head start on me in the information department. Spill.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Does that usually work for you? You just demand information and people give it?”

Isobel shrugged. “Pretty much.” She took a step towards him. “So. What do you know?”

Patrick smiled, slow and easy. “A lot more than you do.”

She briefly considered just diving into his mind but discarded the thought almost as soon as it occurred. Getting him to tell her without her usual tricks sounded like more fun. She smiled back at him.

“Ok,” she told him. “Just tell me one thing.”

Patrick leaned against the opposite counter and waved her on.

“Does Alex love Michael? I mean really love him?” Isobel asked. “Because the first time I ever heard about Alex Manes from Michael was after he’d already decided to try dating Maria and honestly, I don’t know what the fuck to think. I know Michael, okay, he’s my brother, and for all that he hates sharing with me, I do know him. He loves Alex but he’s got it in his head that either Alex doesn’t love him back or if he does it’s not enough. So you tell me, which is it?”

Patrick blinked. “He does not think that,” he protested. There was a slight waver in his voice like maybe he believed that Michael did think that. “Alex loves Michael. That’s honestly not something that should ever be questioned. And if Michael is questioning it, then he’s a bigger dumbass than I thought.”

Isobel quirked her head to the side in a slight nod. Patrick huffed out a laugh and ran a hand over his face.

“Jesus Christ, I’m surrounded by idiots.”

Isobel glared at him, an unimpressed eyebrow raised. “Speak for yourself.”

Patrick laughed, a grin appearing on his lips. “Present company excluded of course.”

“Of course.”

An engine revved outside followed shortly by the sound of gravel spraying. A moment later, the door banged open and Michael burst up the short stairs. He froze at the sight of Isobel, his eyes going between her and Patrick. Isobel followed his gaze and noticed for the first time that she and Patrick were standing very close together. She rolled her eyes and stepped away.

“Izzy what are you doing here?” Michael asked, his eyes still flicking between them.

She shrugged. “I wanted to talk to my brother. Is that a crime?”

He looked outside before facing her. “Now’s really not a good time, Iz.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Because of Maria?” She craned her neck exaggeratedly to peer past him. “That seems to be over and done with.”

Michael glared at her but the effect was lost in the weary slump of his shoulders. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

Isobel rolled her eyes and turned to face Patrick. He met her eyes briefly before turning and reaching up to one of the top cabinets and pulling down a bottle of whiskey.

“Drink?” He asked, holding the bottle up.

Michael sighed but nodded and Isobel quickly found three glasses. There was more space outside for them all to sit down but no one moved towards the door. Instead, they each found a small space to settle and Isobel passed out the drinks. Michael downed his in one gulp and handed it back for a refill. Patrick did so without comment.

“Well I fucked that up,” Michael announced after his second glass.

“Which part?” Isobel asked.

“All of it.” Michael rubbed at his brow. “I just- fuck!”

“Michael…” Isobel trailed off.

“What happened with Maria?” Patrick asked quietly.

“She realized there was a lot I hadn’t told her. About me and Alex. She, uh, she wanted me to fill her in on everything I’d sort of glossed over and I couldn’t.” He took a sip, this time leaving a bit left in the glass. “She wanted to know how come I knew Alex’s military buddies so well. Finally, I told her that Alex and I had been off and on since high school and she kind of lost it.”

“What did you tell her before?” Isobel asked. The longevity of their relationship was surprise to her too but she could deal with that later.

Michael shrugged one shoulder. “Alex told her that we’d been together in high school, I think. She called me his Museum Guy and-”

Patrick held up a hand. “I’m sorry, Museum Guy?”

Michael blushed. “We had our first kiss in the UFO museum downtown and Alex had told Maria about it back in high school but he never said it was me and that was all she had known.”

“So Maria was under the impression that you two shared a single kiss in high school?”

Michael shrugged again. “Not exactly. That’s all either of us really ever told her but she knew it was more than that. Alex said she figured it out because of how he felt about me. He never actually told her I was Museum Guy, she just read his aura or whatever when my name came up.” He finished the glass. “Anyway, all I told her when we started dating or whatever was that me and Alex were long over.”

Patrick snorted into his glass. Isobel flinched away from him as the whiskey splashed. “Sorry, sorry!” Patrick grabbed his already ruined shirt and quickly mopped up the spill. Michael glared at him but Patrick just laughed. He waved Michael to continue.

“Anyway, yeah, that’s pretty much it. She feels like I lied to her and it’s not like we were doing much anyway so she called it off and told me not to come to the Wild Pony for a while.”

Isobel stared at him. “You’re an idiot.” Michael flinched. “No, sorry. Just- what were you thinking?”

Michael stared at his hands. “I was thinking being with Alex hurt and I didn’t want to hurt anymore. Maria was easy. There’s nothing, no pain or trauma, with her and we could just be.”

“So you lied to her?” Isobel softened her voice.

“I didn’t lie. Alex and I were done.”

“You and Alex will never be done,” Patrick said quietly. Michael just sighed.

“Yeah I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” He held out his glass for a refill. Patrick paused before acquiescing. “At some point, maybe we just need to accept that the universe doesn’t want us together. That’s why it keep throwing shit in our way.”

“Like what?” Isobel asked.

Michael glanced at her before looking away. “Off the top of my head? His dad took a hammer to my hand and he threatened to kill me if Alex didn’t enlist. You know how I’ve spent the last couple of years looking for anything I could find about where we come from? Our real family?” Isobel nodded. “Turns out Jesse Manes had that information all along. When Alex found it, he tried to show me but his dad destroyed it all. We got there just in time to watch it all go up in smoke and I just-”

Silence.

“Sounds like Jesse Manes is the problem, not Alex.” Isobel tread lightly. Michael had never told her what happened to his hand but oddly, she wasn’t surprised to find out it had to do with Alex.

Michael closed his eyes. “Yeah, I know. But sometimes I can’t look at Alex without seeing his dad.” His voice was quiet. “And I don’t know how to move past that.”

“Time,” Patrick suggested. “You just give it time. And don’t give up.”

Michael let out a breath, his shoulders sagging. “I’m tired, Patrick. Tired of fighting for this. First it was Roswell, then it was the goddamn Air Force, and always, always it’s Jesse Manes. I just- I’m tired, okay? I can’t fight forever.”

“So don’t,” Isobel told him. She shifted until she could reach out and grab Michael’s hand. She met his gaze, silently asking for permission. Michael swallowed but nodded. Isobel braced herself, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, and dived into Michael’s mind. As always, it was chaos but she thought Alex and suddenly the chaos steadied. Where moments before it was like standing in the path of a tornado, now it was like being in its eye. She could see the chaos raging around her but here, here it was calm.

Because here was Alex.

She inhaled sharply as a wave of images and emotions washed over her. Moments of Michael’s life with Alex. So many more moments than she could have imagined. There were the terrible moments where she felt Michael’s hand shatter under the hammer of Alex’s father. There were the sad moments where she watched Alex walk away again and again. Then there were the happy moments, the times when Michael and Alex just were. They were lying on the couch or having dinner or watching an Eagles game with Patrick. And then, oh God and then. Then there were the moments. Isobel didn’t know how to describe them except that she’d never felt anything like it before. If she ever needed proof that she’d never loved Noah, here it was. Isobel watched and felt as Alex stepped through a doorway, uniform in place, and Michael’s world just lit up. It was like the sun wasn’t shining its fullest until Michael saw Alex again. She felt Michael’s heart soar and his soul settle as Alex cupped his face gently and whispered, “I love you”. And somewhere in all of that, above and around and throughout, she heard Alex’s voice ringing loudly, “you are mine!”

She pulled out of his mind with a gasp.

“Izzy?” Michael sounded worried but Isobel didn’t bother to wonder why. In a graceless motion she fell out of her seat and staggered over to Michael, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

“Don’t give up, Michael.” He squeezed his arms tight around her waist as she spoke quietly into his ear. “If it takes fighting forever, then it’s worth it. He’s worth it. You can’t give up on him.” She pulled back until she could look into his eyes. “And if you get tired and need someone to lean on, I’m here. I’m here okay? Just don’t give up.”

Michael stared at her but nodded.

She opened her mouth to say something but the door swung open and Alex’s other friend, Chad if she remembered correctly, bounded inside.

“Yo, Mikey I need lube, condoms, and advice on gay sex!”

The Airstream was utterly silent as all three of them stared at him. Isobel waited a beat then cleared her throat.

“And on that note, I’m leaving.” She brushed a kiss across Michael’s forehead and fled.

---

Michael stared after Isobel as she walked away, her words still ringing in his head.

“Am I interrupting?” Chad’s voice snapped him out of it. He turned in time to see Patrick smack him lightly upside the head. “What! Sorry!”

Patrick shook his head and turned to Michael. “You okay? I’m not sure what just happened but it seemed heavy.”

Michael nodded absently. “Yeah, Isobel’s just- she’s kind of psychic like Maria. And I guess I was feeling a lot about Alex and she picked up on it. She told me not to give up.”

“Smart woman,” Patrick remarked idly.

Chad looked between them. “Do I need to leave and come back?”

Michael shook his head. “Nope. You can just leave.” He reached out and shoved lightly at Chad’s chest.

Chad took a step back and put a hand on his chest in a faux offended manner. “You’re throwing me out? After everything we’ve shared?”

“You barged in asking for condoms and sex advice!” Michael exclaimed. “It’s well within my rights to throw you out.”

“Not until you provide said condoms and sex advice.”

“Go to the store, man!” Patrick laughed. “What do you even want with gay sex advice anyway?”

Chad grinned. “Got a hot date tonight and I’m feeling lucky. Don’t want to embarrass myself, you know?”

Michael and Patrick exchanged incredulous glances. “You’ve got a date? With a guy? What about your new girlfriend in Boston?”

“We’ve got an open relationship. I already talked to her, she’s cool with it. And yeah, Alex’s friend Kyle. He’s hot.”

Michael did a spit take. “Valenti!?”

Chad furrowed his brow. “Yeah?”

Michael opened and closed his mouth a few times, words just not coming out.

“Since when are you into guys?” Patrick asked. “You’ve never said anything before.”

Chad shrugged. “I’ve never really been into any guy before. I mean I can appreciate a hot guy as easily as a beautiful woman but there’s never really been anything more? But Kyle and I spent some time together yesterday while you and Alex were talking and I don’t know, I like him. So we’re going to grab dinner and maybe some drinks after. And who knows what happens after that? Just want to be prepared.” He turned to Michael. “I’ve never been with a guy and I don’t want to embarrass myself or have it suck. So any advice?”

Michael groaned. “Why didn’t you just ask Alex?”

“I did. He said to talk to you. Since you’ve had sex with women before too and might have some pointers about the differences or whatever.”

Michael cursed Alex under his breath and pulled out his phone to text him. He unlocked it to find a text from Alex already waiting.

Do not send him back to me!

Michael hung his head and typed out a reply.

You owe me

He moved to set his phone aside but Alex’s reply came through immediately.

I’ll let you buy Wentz another jersey and I won’t even complain about it

Michael snorted.

Bullshit. You’ll let me buy it no matter what

Again, Alex’s reply came instantly.

Fine. I’ll get you an extra large supreme from Maggiano’s

Deal

Michael put away the phone and looked up to find Chad and Patrick staring at him. “What?”

Patrick nodded at the phone. “Alex?”

Michael looked from the phone to Patrick. “How did-”

“You were smiling,” Chad answered.

Michael felt his cheeks flush. “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you and Valenti and I cannot believe those words just came out of my mouth.” He groaned and let his head fall back.

He picked up his empty glass as Patrick took over the friendly ribbing. Part of him wanted more whiskey but he knew he shouldn’t. Drowning his sorrows in the bottle was a bad idea and he knew it. The worst part is he wouldn’t even know what he was trying to drown. Is he really upset enough over Maria dumping him to drink that much? Or was it Alex that was bothering him?

Part of him wanted to be upset over his attempt at a relationship with Maria crashing and burning but honestly, he was just relieved.

And that made him want to drink. He’d fucked up everything for something that he didn’t even want.

“Michael!” Chad yelled as he slapped his arm. “Sex advice. Go!”

Michael shook his head to clear it and shrugged. “Go slow and use lots of lube.”

Chad frowned. “That’s it?”

“It’s sex, not rocket science,” Michael told him. “Do you really need a training manual or something?”

Chad still frowned but Patrick diverted his attention and Michael lost himself in his friend’s voices. He felt like he was on the edge of a realization but he wasn’t sure he wanted to take the plunge.

Not yet.

#rnm #my fic #patrick scott #malex fic #roswell fic

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nekoabiwrites · 5 years

Text

Of Princes and Potions - Chapter 9

We back, with more Logan freak-outs and some hints to past trauma for almost all our main characters! Yay!

AU: Royal/Fantasy Pairing: Pining Logince Words: 3067 Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, Crying, Implied Past Trauma, Snakes. Anything else, please let me know.

Summary: Even after recruiting Virgil to help, Logan is coming up short with a solution to his potion problem. He attempts a different approach, only to have the answer he was initially searching for revealed to him.

---

“Logan, seriously. I am doing nothing to help you. Why am I here again?”

Virgil’s voice called from the spiralling stairs. The floor around him was littered with heavy bound books, all in various states of repair. He had one open in his arms, his eyes staring blankly at the ink-filled pages.

The wizard whirled around, his eyes wide. It was clear the man was experiencing copious amounts of fear, frustration and stress, to the point where his lack of sleep was showing on his face. He held his arms open wide and laughed fakely, “I don’t know, Virgil. I don’t even know what I’m doing to fix this anymore. Nothing is here. Absolutely nothing! None of these mountains of books has anything even remotely helpful! I’m stuck like this. I’m going to be stuck like this forever!” Logan’s unhinged laughter morphed into sobs as he fell to the ground, shaking.

Virgil was immediately up and leaping through the discarded tomes and books, avoiding the large piles that practically made new walls between where he was sat and where the wizard had fallen. The knight kneeled beside his friend, trying to calm him down as best he could.

They had been at this for a week now. Every book had been read from cover to cover, every spell and potion translated and recited, every possible incantation thought of and discussed and yet they were still empty handed. Virgil looked around the normally pristinely organised room. The shelves that normally held the books were now empty, making it easier to see where certain ones had bent out of shape due to the pure weight of the books that had been left there for so long. The desks around had many jars and in-progress potions or spells. The easiest way Virgil could describe it was simply ‘an utter mess’.

Swallowing hard, Virgil attempted to distract his friend, “How about you take a short break from this? It doesn’t look like you’ve been out of this place for a while… maybe getting outside would do you some good?”

Logan seemed to freeze mid shake. He then shot up and grabbed a hold of Virgil, hugging him tight, “Virgil! You are a genius! I just need to try something different! Perhaps if I get out and experience more of the potion’s effects, it’ll wear off due to use!”

“That wasn’t what I-” The knight captain attempted to interject but was cut off by Logan jumping up off of the floor.

“Come on, Virgil!” The wizard seemed about ready to just walk out.

Virgil stood and dusted himself off, “Wait a second, what are you even going to do?”

There was a moment of silence where the two stared at each other in confusion. Logan then said as plainly as he possibly could, “I am going to spend the rest of the day with you, of course.”

The knight captain couldn’t bring himself to shoot his friend down, especially in his volatile state, so he agreed to allow the wizard to tag along with him for the rest of the day. He did give Logan a warning that the prince had a chance of appearing for a sparring match, but the mage waved it off as no problem – though a clear blush formed on his cheeks and his voice began to shake slightly.

Upon arriving into the knights’ courtyard, Virgil couldn’t quite hold back a small smile when he saw how surprised the rest of them were when Logan exited the door behind him.

“Listen up.” Virgil called out once he stepped foot on the ground, gaining the full attention of his gathered knights. “As you can see, we have a visitor today. Sir Pendry-” Virgil gestured towards the man still stood upon the steps, “is here to observe what we do. You know what that means?”

All the surrounding knights nodded in acknowledgement. Virgil didn’t even need to say a word to get them to begin their training, all he did was gesture with his hand towards the equipment already set out.

Logan watched with intrigue. He’d never been fully present for a session with the knights, despite how long he’d lived in the castle, which meant he’d never seen Virgil in his most important role at the castle. There was something akin to pride at seeing the power his friend had over some of the knights who were actually older than him by a fair bit, and likely had far more training.

Most wouldn’t believe it due to their close relationship, but Virgil was in fact almost a decade older than Logan. And he’d been given control of the order of the knights at such a young age. His father had been ousted immediately after Patton had taken the throne and a fair portion of the knights followed, which left that at a severe disadvantage. So, Patton had done what he could and given Virgil the title of captain. They hadn’t known each other as long as Virgil had known Patton and Demitri, but they’d grown close extremely quickly due to their similar outlooks on life.

“Uh… Sir Pendry?”

An unfamiliar voice brought Logan back to the real world. He found himself face to face with an unmasked knight who he didn’t recognise. It only took a second or two for him to feel that his face was wet, so he reached up and touched his cheeks.

“You were crying, sir. I just wanted to check that you were alright.”

Logan’s face bloomed red instantly. He wanted to brush it aside, assure the young man he was perfectly alright, but shaking hands and wide eyes gave him away instantly. He stuttered out a response that sent the young knight back into the fray of his training, but it was clear the man was not fully believing that the wizard was actually alright as he continued to shoot concerned glances every now and then.

For the rest of the day, Logan stuck by Virgil. He followed him as the knight captain did his checks of the guards’ and knights’ barracks, which took a lot longer than Logan would have thought as he wasn’t truly aware of the amount of people they had on hand to fulfil these particular roles. Each of them was apparently supposed to be kept in perfect condition, with everything in order, though Virgil seemed to be fairly lenient with the rules as each room tended to be in a variety of states. He accompanied the man to dinner, which just so happened to be a time where he was sharing it with the king.

Upon turning into the dining room, Logan stopped short as he noticed Patton sitting at the head of the long table. Fear filled his every extremity as his thoughts ran wild, but everything seemed to still when Patton lifted his head and noticed the wizard. He grinned wide and stood, “Logan! This is a wonderful surprise! Please, come and join us!”

Logan bowed slightly, “Thank you, your majesty.” He initially went to take the seat beside Virgil, but Patton grabbed his attention.

“No need to sit so far. Come, sit over here!” The king gestured to the seat beside him, opposing Virgil, who spoke up as well.

“Yeah, Logan. The table’s big enough.” There was a hint of a smile tugging at the knight’s lips that gained a brief glare from the wizard as he passed behind the king to take up the offered seat.

Most of the meal was calm, which Logan was very pleased about. He was initially worried that they would be joined by the princes, but it seemed they were busy with other duties that day and would be eating at a later time. It was only as they reached the latter half of the meal that things began to take a turn.

“So, Logan. What have you been hard at work on? I hear you went into town for something a little while ago.” Patton asked innocently.

Logan almost choked as he’d not been expecting such a question to come up. He briefly glanced across to Virgil, who looked at him with a completely straight face. He regained some composure before responding, “I just happened to be running low on some common ingredients for potions. Nothing too extraordinary, your majesty.” It was a miracle that his voice stayed so steady, perhaps the potion really would wear off with exposure and use.

“Ah, well, I believe Virgil mentioned something about helping you out this week? I assumed you had a fairly large project on your hands.”

The knight captain turned his attention entirely to his meal, avoiding the accusatory glare that crossed the table. “I simply required an extra pair of hands. I prefer to keep my projects a well-kept secret, your majesty, just as a precaution. Wouldn’t want the information slipping out.”

Patton nodded sagely, his gaze softening as he smiled sadly, “Yes, you are right. We wouldn’t want that to happen to you, Logan. I don’t know what this castle would be like without you. I know someone in particular would be extremely sad to see you go.”

Due to the potion’s effects, Logan’s surprise was clear as day on his face. “Wh-what? Wh… why on earth would someone, be so upset about my absence…? Especially if…” Logan trailed off, his throat threatening to close on him as he thought about his circumstances.

There was a moment of silence while Patton and Virgil shared a look. From Logan’s perspective, it was almost as if the pair were having a conversation through just their eyes. He knew they’d been close, Patton almost being like an older brother to the knight captain, but he wasn’t aware they were capable of this. When Patton started to laugh, and Virgil rolled his eyes, Logan was put even more on edge.

“Oh, come now, Logan, surely you know someone who just loves to be around you?” Patton leant forward, resting his chin on his hands as he grinned wide at the mage.

“I don’t know, your maje-” A look from Patton had Virgil smiling, “Sorry, Patton. Anyway, Logan isn’t exactly observant when it comes to people around him.”

“E-excuse me!?” Logan asked incredulously, getting an even larger smile to break onto Virgil’s face.

Patton, meanwhile, gasped softly and held his hands to his mouth in surprise, “You mean, he hasn’t realised?!” It was almost as if Patton was truly aware and was simply mocking Logan.

The knight captain leant back in his chair and nodded, arms crossed, “Yep. He has absolutely no idea about that.”

Logan was feeling his frustration building. Normally, he’d have excused himself with a curt goodbye, but that was going to be impossible under his altered state. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get out of this utterly uncomfortable situation he’d found himself in.

Luckily, both of his companions stood and turned to him. “I’m so sorry, Logan, but the two of us have an important meeting to attend to. It is a private affair, so I’m afraid you won’t be able to join us.”

The mage felt relief soar through him. He stood himself and smiled a little too wide as he bowed in respect, “There is no problem there, your majesty. I should return to my tower and begin to continue my work anyway. Have a wonderful evening.” Logan turned and almost bolted from the room, eager to get away. Due to his quick escape, he wasn’t able to hear the shared chuckling of the older men.

He slowed the further away he got from the dining room. Logan was wracking his brain, trying to both understand what the two of them were implying while also trying to figure out an answer to his still-ongoing problem. “It’s clearly something magical… so there must be a magical solution… but who else can I turn to? No one else here knows abou-” His quiet mutterings were cut off as Logan’s mind supplied him with the perfect candidate.

The star-dusted robe billowed out behind him as he ran out to the grounds of the castle. Logan made a direct beeline for the only personal room that sat away from the castle, knocking rapidly once he stood before it. In almost no time, the door opened to reveal its occupant.

“Logan? What are you doing out here?” Demitri asked, confused and wary.

“I have a question to ask of you. May I come in?”

Demitri stood leaning against the tank that held his precious snake, leaving Logan to take a seat on the edge of the bed. He listened to an extremely condensed version of events, where Logan did just happen to leave a few elements out for brevity – and safety. “So, that is why I thought I should come to you. You’re the only person I know who may have some understanding of magic that I do not possess.” The mage’s eyes shined with hope, which made Demitri feel all the more uncomfortable.

The animal handler turned his gaze down to Pretzel, reaching down towards her as well. He took his time in responding to Logan, as he really didn’t want to think again on those horrific memories nor did he want to hurt Logan any more than he already had. Demitri sighed softly as Pretzel began to journey up his arm, “Logan, you know I was only a child… right?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Demitri saw the wizard deflate a little and shy away, “Ah, right… I seemed to… forget that for a moment…”

“It’s no problem, Logan. Don’t start to worry.” Demitri attempted to comfort the other, “I never knew much about magic, until you arrived. My talents lie here…” He gently stroked the head of the snake that was now curled around his shoulders. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

“It’s… no problem. I am sorry for… bringing it back up.” Logan began to sound a little breathless. Demitri turned to him fully, looking towards him concerned. “Well, I shall leave you to it. I, uh, have things I need to attend to. Goodnight.”

Before the animal handler could even say another word, Logan was already running back up towards the castle. Demitri watched the man go, a feeling of guilt and pain lingering in his gut. It had been so many years… why did it still affect him so deeply?

Logan had no time to dwell on the past, however, as he ran as fast as he could through the hallways towards his tower. His heart was pounding, his brain racing. He felt awful for reminding Demitri about all of that, about their ties. Logan knew it was a touchy and painful subject for the man, and yet he hadn’t thought and caused him pain. ‘He can say it’s not a problem, but it’s clear to see that it still hurts him so much.’ Logan cried in his mind as he sprinted along. Tears began to slip down his cheeks for yet another time that day, and he closed his eyes for a moment to pretend it wasn’t happening.

And, of course, that just happened to be the moment that someone crossed his path.

Logan went falling to the floor, along with the other body he’d crashed into. Both of the pair groaned in pain as they became aware of their situation. Logan raised his head from the cushioned fall it’d had as it, miraculously, had landed on the other’s chest and he went to apologise, when his voice caught.

Beneath his body, staring back up at him, was the crown prince himself. The single person Logan had hoped to avoid the entire day. His face burned almost immediately, and his mouth was left gaping as his brain seemed to leave his body.

His first assumption was that the prince would try and pull another flirtatious line out, but the gentle swipe of a finger across his cheek to remove a tear that was still trailing down surprised the mage. Logan sat up quickly, hands flying up to cover his cheeks. Roman followed suit, but slower. His hands came to rest upon the mage’s arms lightly, “Logan, is everything alright?”

The softness of the interaction, the amount of care that slipped through his voice, the use of his given name rather than the usual impersonal title. There was no doubt about the extreme fluttering feeling in his stomach and what it meant, especially when it accompanied the images that were running rampant through his mind. At least his initial goal had been achieved, though Logan was far from pleased with the result. Without a word, he managed to get to his feet – albeit slightly awkwardly as he attempted to also start running at the same time. He fled from the scene, leaving Roman on the ground.

A loud slam came from the door as Logan finally reached his tower. His back was against the wood, holding it shut as if something might attempt to burst through it with such force. A single strangled sob passed his lips as Logan looked at the mess on the floor. He didn’t want to deal with this right now. Even though he knocked over many books in his haste, the mage crossed the room and ascended the spiral stairs. He flung himself onto the sheets of his unmade bed, almost screaming into the fabric after doing so.

Hours seemed to pass before there was a knocking at his door below. “Logan? Are you here?” Virgil’s voice floated up to him. The mage made another muffled sound of agreement, which allowed the knight captain to find him. Logan listened to the sounds of Virgil making his way up the stairs and felt his friend’s stare once he reached the top. “Lo…? What happened?” He sounded worried.

Logan turned over to stare at the ceiling. He sighed heavily, dragging his hands down his face. “I am in love with him.” A brief moment of silence followed before Virgil let out a wave of relieved laughter, which caused Logan to sit up quickly to stare accusingly at him, “And what is so funny about this travesty of a situation, Virgil?”

Virgil took a seat on the top step of the stairs and looked to Logan with a wide smile, “Took you long enough to realise it.”

---

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