Naminé The Writer

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Virgil always dreaded summer.

It was blisteringly hot, and humid enough that the air seemed to swim. The forest was at least a little cooler with the dappled shade from the trees and gentle breeze, so Virgil spent most of his time there. But just walking to Sam's house to play band was hell, let alone going to the saloon.

They still did, of course, because if Virgil didn't go then his friends would start breaking down his door to drag him out. But Virgil hated every minute of walking there. He hated going out in the summer at all. It was probably just a little bit to do with the fact that it was hard to wear his hoodie in the summer heat. Obviously he still did. There was no way he was sacrificing his hoodie for something as stupid as heat.

The one perk of this town was the fact that there was a beach practically on their doorstep, and as much as Virgil hated dressing for it, swimming and chilling on the sand - especially with Sam and his little brother - was one of his favourite summer activities. 

Yeah, he felt a little immature wearing black shorts and a black swim t-shirt with purple sleeves, but it was the only way he really felt comfortable leaving the house, so everyone else had learned to deal with it. At least he actually came to to the beach, unlike Seb and Abby.

Today was a beach day. Virgil had gotten there early and set up an umbrella to sit on a towel underneath until he was ready to swim and then to lie on when he got out. He'd brought his sketchbook and some snacks and planned to stay here pretty much all day, enjoying the breeze from the sea and the shade from his umbrella. Sam and his little brother Vincent had arrived an hour or so after Virgil had and, after greeting him, they'd gone off to play in the waves. 

Virgil would join them in a little while, once he was done with his current drawing.

Or, at least, he would have if they hadn't arrived. 

Roman was, of course, looking absolutely gorgeous in a more summery outfit. He was wearing tight denim shorts and work boots with red socks. Virgil's eyes were immediately caught by the crop top he was wearing though. A nice red floaty top with floral details and thin straps that showed off his broad shoulders and toned chest and lovely tan skin... 

Virgil really needed to stop staring. 

Especially when Janus locked eyes with him and Virgil was certain he had gone beet red. 

It didn't help that Janus was wearing the prettiest sundress Virgil had ever seen. It was a sunny yellow and printed subtly with flowers. The delicate black belt around his waist and black shoes tied it all together as the two of them walked together onto the docks. 

Virgil had quickly turned his face away when Janus caught him staring, though, because that was probably the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him. 

He'd been spotted ogling Janus' partner - and then probably Janus himself. How weird was he?

Roman had settled, sitting on the edge of the dock and pulling out a fishing rod. Janus sat on a bench behind him, crossing one leg over the other and pulling out a book. 

Okay, Virgil could handle this. It wasn't like they'd put themselves in the perfect position for Virgil's eyes to find them. They were so very pretty and Virgil was trying so hard to keep concentrating on his book.

"Hey Virge!" Sam yelled at the perfect moment, "Come over here!"

It was a good enough distraction as any, Virgil supposed. 

"One sec!" he yelled back, brushing off eraser shavings and putting his supplies back in their case so they wouldn't get lost in the sand before getting up and making his way down the beach towards the two of them.

"Would you be willing to make a sandcastle with Vincent?" Sam asked him quietly when he reached him. He stood a little further back from his little brother, who was trying to catch clumps of seaweed in the water, "I'm really sorry to dump him on you, dude, but I totally forgot mom asked me to get some stuff from Pierre's for dinner today-"

Virgil glanced at Vincent. He wasn't the best with kids, but building a sandcastle wouldn't be that hard he was sure. 

"How long will you be?" Virgil asked.

"Not more than like- fifteen minutes? Mum knows I'm watching Vincent so she won't keep me, I promise," Sam said, "Pleaseee? I'll owe you a favour?"

"...Fine," Virgil mumbled. There wasn't a lot he wouldn't do for his friends anyway. Sam's little brother wasn't that bad anyway - he could just be a little too energetic for Virgil sometimes. He had been intending to come over and hang out anyway, though. He could handle a sand castle. 

"Thank you so much," Sam said, "Hey Vincent! Virgil's gonna make a castle with you whilst I go get the stuff for mum, okay?"

"Okay!" Vincent called, rushing up out of the water to join Virgil on the sand. Virgil let him choose a spot before sitting down opposite him to start building.

And that was when he realised that he had absolutely no idea how to build a sand castle. 

Virgil usually only joined Sam and Vincent in the water. Otherwise if he was at the beach he was reading or drawing. He'd seen Sam do this with Vincent before, but now that he was tasked with actually doing it himself he felt a little out of his depths. 

"You good, there?" Vincent asked, and Virgil looked down to find that he was already stacking sand together. 

"Uh- yeah, I just.... don't know how this works," He admitted. Vincent paused where he was piling sand into a bucket and frowned up at him.

"You've never done this before?" Vincent asked, sounding almost offended, "Come on, I gotta show you how it works now, what sorta kid doesn't know how to build a sandcastle?"

Virgil was about to protest that he wasn't a kid anymore, but a bucket and a spade were shoved into his hands and he decided it was best to just accept his fate. So Virgil ended up spending the next fifteen minutes getting an indigence filled lesson on building sandcastles. Once they'd gotten a solid foundation Vincent went off to collect shells and Virgil took the opportunity to glance back at Janus and Roman, only to find Janus with his book closed watching Virgil. 

Virgil huffed, sending Janus a halfhearted glare before turning his attention back to supervising Vincent, who was sill collecting things from the shoreline.

Thankfully for Virgil, Sam arrived back on the beach a few minutes later and joined in the building of the sandcastle, somehow immediately able to make it much better than Virgil had when Vincent passed him more pieces of shell. 

Virgil didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse when Virgil was tapped on the shoulder and he looked up to see Roman standing behind him.

"Mind if I borrow you from your sand time?" Roman asked, tilting his head with a little smile on his face, "i was wondering if you'd like to walk with me?"

"Um," Virgil said eloquently, pretty sure his face was red once again.

"He would love to," Sam said, with a shit eating grin as he shoved Virgil a little, "Go on, I'll hold down the sand fort."

"...Okay," Virgil squeaked, forcing himself to his feet and brushing as much off the sand from his clothes as he could before turning properly to Roman. He was a little glad that he hadn't been in the sea yet. Whatever was going on he really didn't want to be doing it drenched in salt water. 

Roman continued to smile at him in a way that was almost uncanny as he began to walk and let Virgil follow him. 

"So... what's going on?" Virgil asked, trying not to sound as anxious as he was when in reality his heart felt like it was trying to beat right out of his chest. 

"Nothing really," Roman said, "I just needed to take a break from fishing, and I saw you over here and thought I might say hello! I haven't really seen you all that much since the flower dance after all, and I didn't even get to talk to you much then!"

"I... yeah," Virgil said, "I'm not really a summer guy."

"Really?" Roman asked, "I absolutely love summer! All of the warmth and the plants thriving and the smell in the air, the way everything feels so alive you know?"

"Not really," Virgil admitted, "It just sorta makes me feel sick - I uh- don't do that well with heat."

"But you're here at the beach?" Roman asked, seeming curious rather than offended. 

"Yeah - here at least I can get in the water if I start overheating, and it's breezy," Virgil shoved his hands in the pockets of his shirts and glanced down at the sand. There were always a whole lot of shells in the sand here, "Where are you taking me, anyway?"

"Oh! I repaired the old bridge over here a few days ago," Roman said, "I thought you might be interested in the rock pools."

"Rock pools?" Virgil asked. That old bridge had been broken since before he'd moved here. The wood scraps that had been left behind were ancient and Virgil was maybe a little worried about this 'repair' job from Roman. But when they arrived, Virgil found a pristine and sturdy looking plank bridge in place of the old broken planks. "I... wow, how did you do this?"

"Well I brought the wood down from some of the trees I've chopped down on the farm," Roman explained as he stepped onto the plank bridge and offered a hand to Virgil to help him up. He took it with a bright red face. "And then it just sorta.... got fixed!"

"What do you mean it 'got fixed'," Virgil huffed, putting air quotes around his words. The bridge was just as solid as it looked, but Roman's wording confused him. 

"I mean I left the wood here and the bridge was fixed the next time I came here," Roman said again, as if that made any sense whatsoever, "Like when you will something to happen?"

"...Sure, Roman," Virgil nodded, deciding... maybe it was best to just go along with the possibly crazy farmer. Roman helped him down from the plank on the other side, and Virgil's eyes widened as he took in the rock pools. 

They were beautiful, shallow pools full of anemones and coral surrounded by flat rocks. Virgil couldn't help but gasp softly as he slowly walked closer. 

"They're lovely, aren't they?" Roman smiled, following Virgil closer to the water and sitting down, brushing his fingers across the anenomies that seemed to reach for him as he dragged his fingers through the water. Virgil copied him, and found the water was warm on his hands. 

"Yeah," Virgil says softly, a little in awe.

"Janus told me you might like to see it," Roman said with a small smile, "I wanted to talk to you again, since I haven't gotten to, yet."

"Janus said I would?" Virgil asked, tilting his head. It was shocking to hear that Janus knew him well enough to predict that he would like this. He hadn't even been overly interested in the sea back in middle school. Sure he had always liked the ocean, but that didn't mean he was talking about it enough that he thought Janus would've noticed. Even if he had, he doubted Janus would've cared.

Roman was smiling, though, "Yeah! He said he remembered you saying something about visiting one of the Fern Islands with your parents and enjoying exploring pools?" 

It took a second to remember. Virgil's parents had taken him on a bunch of holidays. But that particular one... They'd gone out on a boat to a little island in the middle of nowhere, and he'd hated everything about the trip aside from the moments he could escape his parents to explore the rock pools on the beach. He remembered telling Janus about them when he was interrogated about where he'd been all week back in middle school. Even then he hadn't thought Janus would've actually cared about his answer neough to remember it.

"I didn't think Janus would remember that," Virgil said softly, glancing at Roman and quickly looking away again, focusing instead on the anemone. 

"His memory is surprisingly sharp when he likes someone," Roman said, "You know he remembered my favourite butterfly on our first anniversary? Made a cupcake with an iced one on top! It was something I'd mentioned as an ice breaker on our first date, it's crazy."

Virgil had been too fixated on the 'when he likes someone' part of that sentence to really register the rest of what Roman had said. He didn't think Janus had given a single shit about him before. But... liked him? It just didn't makes sense. 

"Janus didn't like me," Virgil corrected, shaking his head, "He- he liked to make fun of me."

"To make fun of you?" Roman asked, tilting his head.

"Yeah he- he used to... I guess keep me around to make himself feel better? Or make him look good for befriending the social reject. I don't know," Virgil sighed, "We were like... thirteen, so I'm sure he's different now, but he definitely didn't like me back then."

The expression on Roman's face plainly said his doubt, but he didn't argue with Virgil.

"...Are you guys going to be at the beach all day?" Virgil asked, trying to change the topic. Roman hummed.

"Not sure," Roman shrugged, "We didn't really have much of a plan for today, I wanted to catch some fish since a couple people needed them, but otherwise... no plans, really! It was a nice coincidence that you were here too so I could show you this, and Janus had a book he wanted to read, so... a perfect beach day, no?"

"I guess so," Virgil said with a nod, "I… should probably get back to Sam and Vincent, though, I've been gone a while…"

Roman's expression slipped into a frown at Virgil's quick retreat. "Ah… okay," he said, sounding so painfully dejected that Virgil couldn't help but turn.

"I'll see you later?" Virgil offered. He was relieved to see Roman brighten again.

"Indeed," Roman smiled, "I should get back to Janus anyway, shall we?"

Roman offered a hand to help Virgil over the bridge, only letting go to head back over to Janus.

Well Virgil had no idea what that was about.

----

The Luau was one of Virgil's top three least favourite festivals of the year. His least favourite being the flower dance. In this case it was mainly because it made the beach crowded and he never knew what the hell he was supposed to put in the soup. How was he supposed to add something nice to the soup when he didn't know what anyone else had put in it? Virgil couldn't even cook when he knew all of the ingredients. Every year he just brought a jar of fancy mixed spices and dumped them into the pot. It wasn't interesting or fun but spices were the safest bet, and it wasn't something he was going to get flamed for if the soup was shit. Unlike Sam and Sebastian, who liked to try and ruin the soup on purpose every year. It was a tossup whether they were caught before or after they'd already dumped whatever crazy thing in the soup. Virgil remembered the year Sam had to do community service for it well. They'd managed to get much more sneaky about it since then. 

He especially hated it because it was one of the few festivals his parents actually made an effort to attend. They even contributed something to the soup every year before trying to spend the whole time shmoozing with the governor. Virgil hated being in the same space as them, it was like he could feel every set of eyes on his back whenever he got within a certain distance.

Normally the rest of the townsfolk seemed to forget that Virgil was their son, considering he was seen much more regularly around town and would help out in Pierre's occasionally. But when he was seen with his mother and father... it was harder to ignore that he was still some rich kid outsider who's parents had destroyed a part of Cindersap forest for their ugly mansion. Especially so when they'd forced him to dress up in a formal outfit for a beach party.

So Virgil preferred to find a shaded corner and sit down away from the big party. Usually he'd bring his sketchbook and draw the ocean from a quieter spot on the docks. This year, though, it seemed he wouldn't be left alone. 

"Hello there, Virgil!" Came Janus' voice. When Virgil glanced up he found that Roman was there too. Of course the two of them had to be the ones to bother him, "We wondered what you might be doing out here away from everything?"

"Party's overwhelming, I don't want anything to do with my friends schemes, it's hot…" Virgil shrugged, "And my parents are here."

Janus' nose scrunched, and the expression was enough to pull a smile out of Virgil.

"Ah - I suppose they're the ones I didn't recognise," Roman hummed, "Honestly I thought they were here with the governor."

"He's basically the only reason they attend," Virgil grumbled, "They don't really leave the house much unless they're going away on a holiday or business trip anyway, so I don't blame you."

"I certainly didn't miss them after you left," Janus huffed, "I remember them being insufferable at parent teacher conferences."

Virgil winced, "Don't remind me."

"Can I get the tea?" Roman asked, sitting down on the bench next to Virgil and smirking. Virgil huffed.

"They just- were weird," Virgil sighed, "They're the type of rich people who know it and want everyone else to know it too. They suck."

Janus laughed, "That's quite the understatement - Do you remember when we were eleven and you failed a maths test and your mum tried to pay the teacher to give you a better grade? And then threw a tantrum in front of the whole class when he wouldn't?"

"Don't remind me," Virgil said, going to pull his hood up over his face only to be reminded he wasn't wearing his comfort hoodie. Meanwhile Roman laughed, "Everyone at school fucking hated me after that it was horrible."

"And that one time your parents wouldn't stop bragging about the trip you guys were going on too, oh and-"

"Janus shut up," Virgil snapped, already starting to get to his feet, "I don't want to hear a list of why you all hated me in middle school, okay? I already know."

Virgil didn't give them a chance to respond, grabbing his sketchbook and stalking off to find somewhere else quiet to sit. He found himself on the end of the eastern dock off of the rock pools, with his feet hanging off the side. He looked down into the water and let out a sigh. Soon enough he would've been here at the party an acceptable amount of time and then he could leave. Until then... until then he could just stay here, out of the way where no-one would bother him anymore.

----

The rest of summer passed wonderfully quickly. 

Virgil spent a lot more time at the rock pools now that he knew they were there, and otherwise avoided everyone. Especially the farmers.

He didn't need Roman and Janus to ask him what had happened back at the Luau. 

It was impossible to avoid everyone, though. At least Leah was good company. She liked to sit quietly and draw just like him, so it turned out that they didn't bother each other all that much. They hadn't really spoken all that much before, even in all of Virgil's years here. Leah lived out in the woods, drank wine in the saloon with Elliot and was more of an artsy sort - not the kind to hang around with Virgil and his friends. 

Relaxing at the beach with her was a nice break, though. They talked about how calming the waves were, how easy it was to clear your head and let go of anxious thoughts out here. The summer passed, and by the time they were starting to approach the transition to fall, Virgil felt like he could maybe call them friends. 

"What's wrong?" Leah asked him out of the blue one day. They'd been sitting quietly on the beach on a breezy day, and Virgil didn't think he'd done anything to show how off he had been feeling recently. But he must have done something, if she could pick up on it.

"What do you mean?" Virgil asked, frowning as he looked up from his sketchbook.

"Your eye's been twitching," Leah told him, "And you've been frowning at your sketchbook this entire time."

"I have?" He asked, before sighing, "It's nothing, really."

"I won't judge," Leah said closing her sketchbook and crossing her legs, "Or tell anyone, I promise."

"It's just-" Virgil sighed deeply, "It's the farmers, I uh - I... Oh I dunno."

"No no, it's okay, you can keep going," She said with a smile. "If you need to get something off of your chest?"

"Okay… it's just- I knew Janus, back in middle school, before I moved here." Virgil explained, "And I... I thought he hated me? I mean - he made fun of everyone back then - but we were talking at the Luau and it was weird?"

"In what way?" Leah pressed. She didn't seem judgemental, just... curious and open for Virgil to talk. To be a listening ear. It was kind of nice, and he was... grateful for it. He knew he could always talk to his friends, but they would just tease him about his crushes on the farmers. Virgil didn't think Leah would do that even if he admitted it.

"Well it kinda seemed like he was fond of the memories? Or excited to talk about them. I mean, maybe he's just remembering the times he got to laugh at me, but like," Virgil sighed, "I kinda assumed he wouldn't even remember I existed."

"I guess we all make a lot of assumptions on the people in our lives based on what we know," Leah said, nodding her head, "When who knows what they're really thinking."

"I guess so," Virgil said, tapping his pencil repeatedly against the sketchbook in his lap.

"The only way you could really know is by asking him." She said.

Virgil must have made some kind of face, because Leah started laughing.

"The dance of the moonlight jellies is coming up," She pointed out. "You could always ask them then."

Right, he could. Virgil really hoped that for some reason - Yoba's interference maybe - that the two farmers wouldn't show up.

----

Virgil sat on the edge of the western dock, swinging his feet whilst Sam and Sebastian argued over the idea of pushing each other in like they did every year. As of yet, no-one had actually taken a dip to see if the jellyfish were venomous, and Virgil would, personally, quite like to keep it that way.

Eventually, though, he got tired of their bickering. Abigail had noticed his restlessness and told him to take a walk before they launched the boat, so he'd dragged himself to his feet and started to wander.

When he reached the other dock, he ended up running into Thomas and his boyfriend, which honestly... Virgil wasn't sure if that was better or worse than running into the farmers.

"Hey Thomas," Virgil said, greeting his ex a little awkwardly. The awkwardness didn't come from their relationship status. There were no hard feelings from the time the two of them had dated. More so simply how they were. A little socially awkward, a little anxious, "Hi Nico."

"Heya Virge!" Thomas said with a smile regardless of the awkwardness, Nico gave a happy wave, "How's the sea breeze treating you?"

"My clothes are gonna smell like salt forever," He said, "How are the two of you?"

"We're great!" Nico said brightly, "I had some of that pudding Pierre is selling up on the beach - you should get some if you can, it's great, but damn it makes me want to fish for some reason."

"Sure," Virgil shrugged off the enthusiasm. It definitely wasn't the weirdest thing he'd seen someone say here in this town. Or even here tonight. 

"Have you seen the farmers?" Thomas asked. Virgil felt himself tense.

"Not yet, why?"

"I think Janus said he was looking for you earlier," Thomas said, Nico was nodding along.

"Oh! Yeah! They asked us to point you in their direction if we saw you." Nico nodded, backing Thomas up. 

"Oh, great," Virgil deadpanned, frowning in annoyance. Why were the farmers looking for him tonight? Now Virgil found himself wanting to avoid them more than ever despite the conversation he'd had with Leah.

He didn't stay with Thomas and Nico for very long after that, heading back to stand with his friends when Mayor Lewis announced that he'd be launching the boat soon. He was glad he'd left when he did, because across the pier he spotted Roman and Janus taking his place by Thomas and Nico only a moment later. The two of them were holding hands, with Roman's head resting on Janus' shoulder as they watched the beautiful, glowing jellyfish roll up to the docks. 

Virgil found that this year, he was more focused on watching the two farmers than he was the sea. 

-----

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Janus had insisted they keep the beast inside. Inside, it'll utterly destroy everything they own and leave them destitute. Outside, it'll utterly destroy random areas of the forest, invoking the wrath of the forest nymph and whatever other fae thingies might live there.

The first option had only one advantage: it was most likely to leave them alive.

But Remus couldn't stand to see the thing cooped up. It was like literally bouncing between the walls, tearing down shelves, destroying plates and pots, eating their flour. It was like a tiny tornado, a chunk of fog in roughly the shape of a lanky dog-thing, somewhere between corporeal and incorporeal, leaving a trail of smoke wherever it went.

"It'll only be for a year," Janus had said with a resigned sigh. "We should be grateful. Better they leave us with a Wild Hound than take one of us away."

But that year would suck for all of them, including the Hound. It was restless already, and Remus felt restless too just from watching it.

Maybe if he supervised it, letting it out would be okay.

- - -

Janus woke up to a suspiciously quiet home.

It took him a moment to place where his unease was coming from. Everything always felt so calm whenever he was wrapped in the star speckled blanket. Its magic was potent and effective; yet despite it, he felt a pit in his stomach.

He threw the blanket aside, and along with the cold, memories of the night came flooding back in. Remus, the Hunt, the Hound.

None of them were in sight.

Usually, Janus didn't like getting close to the windows; the curtain rods were made of rowanwood. While Logan would have been happy to exchange them for something less faerie repellant, Janus had protested the suggestion; anything that kept Janus inside also ensured other fae stayed out.

Now, he approached the window anyway, his skin crawling at the proximity to the rod. He pulled back the curtain, and peered down at the ground.

"Comet!" The word was out of his mouth before Janus could think. He was out there, and the Hound was attacking him. More wolf than dog, the thing was easily big enough to wrestle Remus to the ground. Its teeth and claws were solid enough to hurt. Red already marked the snow in splotches and streaks, leading up to where the Hound had a firm grip on Remus' forearm. Janus hurried back to bed to stir Logan awake, but he needn't have bothered.

Less than a minute later, Logan had gotten himself up, put on his glasses, assessed the situation, and tossed open the front door. "Enigma! Over here!"

Janus had already insisted on a strict no names rule over the next year, just in case the Hound could relay information to its masters.

But despite how quick Logan had been, the situation appeared to have resolved itself by the time he got downstairs. Remus was grinning from ear to ear, and the beast was laying belly up and chewing on a log of firewood while Remus administered what could only be described as belly rubs.

"What the fuck?" Logan muttered to himself.

Janus was already charging outside. "Get away from that thing!" he shouted.

"What? Why?"

The beast was on its feet in an instant, pouncing on Janus and knocking him over, but Remus was just as fast, tackling the thing to the ground.

"Come on, let's get it back inside before it ruins the forest." Janus was already shivering in the cold and ready for Remus to drag the thing to safety.

"It's not ruining anything!"

"You're bleeding!"

"Only a little."

Janus waved his arms wide, gesturing to the snow sharply contrasted by streaks of blood. "Only a little, ssssss-" The sure died on his tongue. "Just get inside."

"Most of that's the rabbit, not me."

The Hound had wriggled out of Remus' hold and was going for his arm again; Remus snatched the log of firewood from the ground and got it between them just in time. The powerful jaw locked onto the log, leading to some sort of tug-of-war.

"The rabbit? What rabbit?"

"The rabbit from yesterday."

Sure enough, the rabbit from yesterday lay shredded and sprinkled across the snow among the streaks of red.

That didn't change the fact that the creature was attacking Remus every chance it got.

In Janus' momentary silence, Remus had taken off running, and the thing chased him, then ran past him when he threw the log. While it gnawed, Remus reached down and made a snowball.

"Come on, Comet, don't be an idiot," Janus called.

"You're the idiot! We're having fun!"

The creature had gotten bored of the log within seconds, so Remus tossed a snowball. The creature leapt into the air for it. Its teeth snapped around the snow, coating its muzzle in white.

"Flower," Logan addressed Janus. He'd had the good sense to put on shoes and a cloak. "Have you considered that he might be right?"

"It's hurting him," Janus hissed, shivering against the cold.

Logan stepped close and wrapped the cloak around them both as best as he could. "He's keeping it from hurting him most of the time. Look."

Remus had climbed atop the pile of snow that used to be his snow cave, and the creature was bounding after him. Snow clung to its fog only briefly, dissipating and rolling off along with streaks of smoke. They both tumbled down the other side of the pile together, and then they both clambered to their feet again, taking off in another game of chase.

"From what I can see, they're not even hurting the forest. They're just playing in the snow."

Janus sighed. He didn't have a counter argument. That didn't mean he had to like it.

Logan took his hand. "Let me bring you back inside. You must be freezing."

- - -

It wasn't exactly intuitive for either of them to leave Remus out there with a beast that clearly meant him harm. They were only persuaded by the fact that Remus was not easily hurt, and he looked to be having as much fun as the beast in question.

Upstairs was already a disaster. In the few hours it had been inside, the beast had pulled down shelves, shattered plates and cups, torn books and diagrams, and even ripped the painstakingly untasseled blanket.

"This seems like a best case scenario," Janus admitted reluctantly as he sat nursing a cup of tea. "At least it won't break literally everything we own."

He wasn't just being materialistic; if the thing shredded all of their clothes and blankets, they would struggle to keep warm. If it ate through their pantry, they would struggle to eat. That wasn't even touching on the heartbreak of the thing destroying Logan's telescope and scale model of the solar system; or worse, making confetti out of all of Logan's accumulated books and studies. Logan wouldn't have the funds to replace his equipment or books, and his own tracking of the stars over the past several years would all go to waste if he lost his notes.

The few families that Janus knew that had been afflicted with the curse of a Wild Hound had spent the years after relying on the kindness of their neighbors. As long as the beast was with them, they were unable to keep any food or belongings in their home for any length of time. By the time it left, they'd had nothing.

"At least Remus heals quickly," Logan added, and then had a thought. "Forgive my ignorance. Is there a way to be rid of the creature? If we find a way to solve a riddle or something?"

Janus let out an exasperated sigh. "These are not the 'complete an impossible task and I'll reward you with riches' types of fae, my dear Starling," he explained. "This is the Wild Hunt. There's no reasoning with them. There's no playing their game. They don't even have a game. They just cause harm."

Logan looked down into his teacup. "Then I suppose this is the best case scenario."

- - -

Remus came back inside when evening grew close, his arms filled with barely contained smoke. When he laid it down carefully in front of the fireplace, it solidified into a curled up creature, whimpering at him to stay. Of course, Remus didn't need to be asked twice. He sat down, and the doggo put its head in his lap.

Logan and Janus were already making a fuss of him, rushing over with a first aid kit and a hearty stew. "Are you alri-" They both stopped short when the Hound growled at them.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, don't wake it!" Remus whispered, resting a hand on its head. The Hound responded immediately, laying its head back down and closing its glowing eyes. "It's tired."

Janus and Logan stared at each other.

- - -

Over the next few days, their lives fell into a sort of rhythm. Remus would spend all day playing with the beast–

"Whirlwind," Remus corrected every time someone called it a beast or monster or even creature. "It deserves to be called something. Whirlwind fits, right?"

Whirlwind did fit. It resembled a storm as it flew through the cold winter air, picking up and shedding snow as it went.

They would spend all day outside playing together, until Whirlwind was exhausted and Remus carried it back inside. They slept curled up together in front of the fireplace, so that as soon as the Hound stirred in the morning, Remus could take it outside to play again, before it had time to wreck anything inside.

Meanwhile, Janus and Logan would watch with worried reluctance. Remus' torn up arms never quite had time to heal overnight, and every day he would come in worse than the last.

- - -

It was the ninth night when their new rhythm was broken up. Logan and Janus woke up at midnight to find Whirlwind howling toward the window, Remus watching over it with concern. "It can't sleep," he said.

Outside, the Wild Hunt howled back.

"It's homesick," Remus added.

"It's a curse, it can't be homesick," Janus corrected as he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"No, but it is! Just look!"

Whirlwind howled again. The sound was hollow, echoing around the room, omnipresent. It tossed its paws onto the windowsill, and immediately reeled back from the rowanwood above. Failing that, it started to pace, jogging toward Remus, then toward the window, and back again, howling all the while.

Janus sighed.

"What would you have us do?" Logan asked.

Remus didn't miss a beat. "We let it outside."

"Are you out of your mind?" Janus demanded. "You will not open the door at night during wintertime!"

"But he wants out!" Remus responded, his eyes as big and forlorn as the Hound itself.

Downstairs, something knocked on their door. Remus was up in an instant.

"Comet! Don't you dare – Comet!"

"It's my curse!" Remus was already several steps down the staircase, and Whirlwind was way ahead of him. "I know it best!"

Janus and Logan could do nothing but follow.

When Remus tore the door open, he was face to face with some sort of cloaked and hooded figure. Its only clear feature was its piercing eyes.

Whirlwind jumped right into the figure and settled as if in its arms, though it wasn't clear whether the figure had arms at all. If anything, it looked more like the two melded together into one vague shape. Whirlwind's head was barely visible, its tongue lolling out.

The figure's glowing eyes grazed over Logan, lingered on Janus, and settled firmly on Remus.

"Is this your caretaker?" Remus asked Whirlwind.

The figure shifted Whirlwind in its probable arms and took something out from its mass of a body. Sure enough, a spindly limb extended from the shadowy cloak holding a basket filled with something or other.

Remus glanced at the basket. "Do you want me to take it?"

The figure remained still.

Remus took the basket. "I'm grateful," he said. Janus and Logan had both drilled into him to never say 'please', 'thank you', or 'sorry' to a faerie, or else they'd interpret you as indebted to them.

The figure turned and drifted away, slowly dissipating into the fog and taking Whirlwind with it.

- - -

Nobody quite knew what to do with themselves after that.

They brought the basket upstairs and found it was full of wood shavings. They set it down among the torn down shelves they hadn't bothered to put back up yet.

Then Remus sat down and sang to himself.

When you find youself alone

And you feel you've lost your way

When your path is all unknown

And the world has turned to gray

Just know I'm thinking of you

And in your heart I'll stay

When it's dark and I am scared

And the sun is far away

When I feel so unprepared

For the hollow winter day

I'll know you're thinking of me

And in my heart you'll stay

As relieved as Janus and Logan were, they made sure to mind Remus' grief. While they couldn't quite understand how he'd gotten so very attached to a creature so hell bent on destroying everything it could get ahold of, they would be respectful of it.

They did eventually fall asleep, but Remus stayed up, listening to the Hunt wailing outside, his basket of wood shavings cradled in his lap. When the sunlight finally chased the howls away, he pulled a curtain aside and watched the clouds turn rainbow bright.

Winter came quick during Remus' first year. Waist deep snow blanketed the forest, and the cold drove Logan and Janus to stay inside as much as possible. Remus was way too restless for that. He'd practically be bouncing between the walls if he couldn't go out.

So he made good use of the few hours of daylight that they had. The first part of winter he spent building: a snow cave, then a snow fortress made of tightly packed snow bricks, then a pair of snowmen to guard the fortress' entrance, then a large snow dick to adorn the outside. He sculpted the latter carefully, leaving no details to the imagination.

When he eventually got bored of all of that, he pivoted to venturing into the woods. Animals were difficult to find out there, but the tracks they left were obvious, and beautiful. Birds, squirrels, deer, foxes. He couldn't tell what was what at first, but the winter was long, and he had plenty of time to learn. Luckily, and predictably, Logan had a book about wilderness survival that helped him identify what he saw.

When he'd gotten a good idea of how and where the animals moved, he switched to setting traps: jury rigged contraptions with trip wires or lures that would drop a cage or toss a net or fire a crossbow at the unsuspecting animal. It took many tries to get it right, but Remus felt like he had all the time in the world.

The only rule was he had to be home by dark. Before the Wild Hunt started their chase.

But tonight, dark was still a long way away, and Remus' most recent trap was close.

The trek through the snow was cumbersome as always, but less so ever since Logan gave him these weird twig-netted things to attach to his shoes so he wouldn't sink through the snow as much.

Bindings. The word took longer than normal to connect from idea to concept to word. The word itself had too many meanings muddling the connectivity.

The snowshoe bindings weren't exactly un-cumbersome either. They were bulky and difficult and in the way. But they were better than sinking through the snow with every step.

The snow in the air looked like the clouds were falling down. Logan had said they probably were. It's not like anyone had been up there to check, but it seemed likely, he said.

And the constantly falling clouds meant that whatever tracks Remus could find were always fresh. And he was hot on a trail of a rabbit who had been heading straight for his trap.

The sky was like a rainbow as sunlight danced over the clouds that hadn't fallen down yet. It was gonna set soon.

Remus still had time.

Sure enough, the rabbit lay dead, pierced perfectly through the head by Remus' crossbow. "Alright!" he said to himself as he picked it up by its ears. He'd gotten lucky too. A shot through the chest or hip or whatever would mean a hole in the pelt. A shot through the head was perfect!

Ideally, he'd reset the trap before he left. But it was almost dark. A little disappointed, he picked up the crossbow and started the trek back.

It was easier now that he could step in the tracks he'd already left. But he'd never figured out how to be fast in these snow bindings.

It wasn't until he heard an owl hoot that he started to grow worried. He looked up. Beyond the rainbow clouds, stars were peeking out. The wind howled in the trees, but something else howled too, and Remus was only halfway home.

He broke into a run as the night sky slowly descended.

Normally, he wasn't out this late. Normally, he'd have left earlier and come back earlier. Normally, he only heard the howling from inside.

Inside was safe. But out here, out here he was at the mercy of what was getting closer behind him, and from what Remus could glean, they were not merciful.

Barking, wailing, rushing. The bindings on his shoes were clunky and awkward, especially at a run. But home wasn't far away. They couldn't get him once he was inside.

Thoughts of getting ripped away by shadowy hands flew unbidden through Remus' mind. With them came a brand new sensation. A feeling connecting to a concept connecting to a word: fear.

The wind tore at him as he tore open the door. His ears filled with a deafening wail. Something was reaching. It didn't get him, but it brushed him. Another brand new sensation crashed over him like a wave. His mind leapt to the accompanying word, one right at the tip of his tongue.

Cold.

Janus was right. It felt like loneliness.

- - -

"Get out."

"What?" Remus snapped back to the present. It felt like an eternity between the moment he'd slammed the door behind him and now. He found himself leaning against the door. Janus bristled in front of him, scowling and flinching away after touching his shoulder.

"Janus, what are you talking about?"

"That's not our Comet."

"Explain." Logan sounded about as upset as Janus, but at least his attitude wasn't directed at Remus.

Janus was baring his teeth. "Whatever that is, it's cold to the touch. It belongs to the Wild Hunt."

"The fuck I do!" Remus shouted. He felt his breath shake. "They touched me, but they didn't take me!"

"They wouldn't touch you and leave you behind."

"I got away!" Remus insisted, finding himself suddenly overtaken by yet another new sensation: tears.

"Darling, look at him," Logan said from the staircase; Janus was deliberately blocking him from approaching. Remus couldn't keep looking at them. His head dropped. The dead rabbit was at his feet. Its eyes were empty as it stared up at him.

"Faeries are capable of glamour spells," Janus shot back.

"By that logic, anyone we ever meet could be a faerie in disguise. We cannot live our lives that way."

It was too loud. Not the arguing, that was fine. But inside. Inside his stomach, Remus could feel something thrashing. And while he could try to hold it in check, it seemed fruitless, or at least not worth the hassle. His hands clenched into fists and, aa though of their own accord, struck against the stone wall. It stung, but that didn't matter. He struck again. The force in his arms against the unyielding stone felt like relief.

By the time Logan made it to his side, he was hunched over, his shoulders raised to his ears, the skin on his hands torn, his face frozen in a silent scream. As soon as Logan touched him, he slapped the arm away hard enough to hurt.

"Alright," Logan said, stepping back. "I'm giving you a minute; however long you need. When you're ready, we'd like to hear what happened."

The words barely registered. Remus' shoulders heaved as he sobbed.

By the time he sank to his knees, he felt spent in a way he hadn't before, and unlike all his other new experiences today, he didn't have a word for this one.

The dead rabbit kept staring at nothing.

"Comet? Would you like to come upstairs?" A scaled hand floated beside him.

Remus sniffed. "Don't you think I'm one of them?"

The hand moved in a way that suggested a shrug. "That's no way to live my life."

- - -

The Hunt still howled and wailed outside. Hounds bayed and barked. The windows rattled.

"They're worse tonight than they normally are," Logan commented as they bundled Remus in all the blankets and wool sweaters they could find. It was already helping. His shivering hands had stilled, and the sores were healing up quickly.

"They want him back," Janus explained. Their voices were hushed, trying not to draw attention from outside. Not that it mattered. Remus had already done that.

"Should I let them have me?"

"No," Logan said sternly at the same time as Janus said, "Of course not."

"So we just wait for them to leave?"

"The morning sun will chase them away." Janus pressed a mug of tea into Remus' hands. He held it close to his chest.

"Being cold sucks balls."

Janus smiled half-heartedly. "It certainly does, sweetie."

There wasn't much to say after that. All there was, was listening to the fae that would haunt them all night. Maybe every night all winter. Maybe every winter.

Remus didn't like it. "Do you know any lullabies?" he asked instead.

They spent the night teaching him every lullaby they could think of.

- - -

When the morning sun finally did chase the Wild Hunt away, the howling and wailing died down. The windows stopped rattling. But one sound remained.

Virgil sighed, dramatic and long-suffering, but he shut his eyes. »If you try anything, I will leave.« »Duly noted,« Roman said, already moving away. »And deeply hurt.« Virgil listened as Roman moved around the room—footsteps, the soft scrape of furniture, the faint clink of something glass. There was a rustle overhead, then another and the unmistakable sound of balloons bumping into one another. Virgil shifted on the stool, nerves crawling under his skin. »This feels like a setup,« Virgil muttered. »And why do I hear balloons?« »No reason!« »That was not convincing.« Music started playing—low at first, then clearer. Virgil frowned. It was familiar. Not loud or flashy, just a steady, atmospheric track he liked to put on when his thoughts got too heavy. Roman knew that. There was the faint scent of something sweet in the air. Vanilla. Chocolate. Something richer underneath. This was… taking a while. »How long—« »Patience, my dark and stormy friend,« Roman interrupted, voice bright but oddly tight. »Great reveals require suspense.« Virgil waited. Seconds stretched. He counted his breaths, grounding himself, trying not to imagine every possible way this could go wrong. Roman hummed loudly, far too cheerfully, as if volume could erase suspicion. »This better not be another prank,« Virgil warned. »I don’t have the energy for theatrics today.« There was a pause. »It’s not a prank,« Roman said, softer than before. Virgil frowned, but before he could respond— »Okay,« Roman said. »You can look.« Virgil opened his eyes—and froze. The room was unrecognizable. Purple and black balloons hovered near the ceiling, light catching on their surfaces. Colorful banners crisscrossed the walls, and right in the center hung a sign that made his chest tighten before he could stop it. Happy Birthday, Virgil. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe...

❤️💜

----

The week that followed was a busy one for Thomas.

Having a new housemate - even a tiny one - was a somewhat stressful change in routine. Not that Logan himself was stressful! It was just that... having to consider another person in his home wasn't something Thomas had needed to think about since he moved away from his parents to study mechanics. Now he had to think about making the house - which was already somewhat rickety as it was - suitable for a borrower as well as a human and plenty of other things too. All whilst still going to work and doing his oh so fun job. 

The longer Thomas knew Logan, the more he dreaded every shift. He wished he had the space and money to save every borrower in those nasty places. Every time he saw them he just thought of his new friend. He hoped, eventually, he'd be able to do something. Maybe he could campaign, or try to convince people that treating them this badly was terrible - that they were people too.

But none of that was anything Thomas could do right now. Even Logan had said as much when he'd vented about it after his first shift since they'd met. Logan had actually seemed... almost annoyed, about Thomas' woes. He supposed him lamenting about not being able to do anything to help Logan's kind wasn't exactly nice to hear.

After Thomas' second day of work that week, he'd gone back to town without Logan and scoured the place for a borrower sized sewing kit. After searching around for hours and asking a few people if anyone knew a guy, he found someone who would be willing to make him such a thing. It would be... far more expensive than Thomas could really afford. 

It wasn't great. But Thomas wanted his new friend to be comfortable. He wanted to build that trust between them. Getting the borrower more tools to help him be independent was a huge step towards that. He thought back to the borrowers he'd always seen in the ships. He couldn't remember a single unique thing about any of them. They had different coloured hair and fur and skin, of course. Some of them were smaller or bigger. But Thomas couldn't remember a distinct face. He'd never looked hard enough or spent enough time to be able to picture a distinct borrower aside from Logan. That was how they always got treated. Like each of them was exactly the same as the next borrower. Thomas actually winced when he realised that also meant they would be easily seen as replaceable. 

So yeah, anything he could do to give Logan a sense of independence and individuality, he would do.

And if that meant commissioning someone to make him a miniature sewing kit for more than he could reasonably afford, then Thomas would do it. 

Keeping it a secret from the borrower wasn't something he was exactly confident about. On one hand, Thomas wanted to surprise the borrower with the fact that he'd been able to find someone making such a thing by giving it to him, not just telling him about it. On the other, keeping Logan in the dark about getting him the thing he wanted felt... unfair. 

In the end, Thomas had gone back and forth on it for a few days too long and felt he may as well just surprise him with it after the weekend anyway. 

Logan had gotten shockingly proficient at using some of Thomas' own tools in the meantime. It was unfortunate that Thomas still needed to carry Logan wherever he wanted to go in Thomas' house due to his injury. He had to think of a way to help with that somehow. For now, though Logan had been spending a lot of time in Thomas' workshop building himself tiny pieces of furniture using scraps Thomas had left lying around. He wasn't exactly the tidiest person. It was a good thing now, at least. It meant that Logan was able to use the leftover pieces, and Thomas was honestly quite glad to finally see them be used by someone. All of the things he had kept around 'just in case' finally seemed to have a purpose.

Another thing that Thomas had learned was that Logan did not like being talked to while he worked.

It wasn't something that Logan had ever said outright. But he'd made it clear enough through his actions and what he did say. Whenever Thomas asked what Logan was working on, he'd close off or get defensive. Sometimes he'd even stopped working on it altogether, looking as though he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't be. Despite Thomas assuring him that he was allowed to make whatever he wanted in here, it seemed that Logan still hadn't been able to shake the idea that he would get punished for crafting. 

It made Thomas feel horrible, but the best way he'd found to manage it for now was not to interrupt Logan doing it. Or pretend not to have noticed when he came in. For now, he was happy to bring Logan downstairs when he asked and pretend he didn't know why Logan wanted to be in his workshop.

That solution definitely wasn't permanent. He really hoped Logan would one day get to the point where he was comfortable discussing his projects with Thomas openly, but Thomas could recognise that right now that wasn't where they were at. He would need Logan's trust for that. And after nearly two weeks it was turning out that said trust was quite hard to gain.

He really hoped the sewing kit would help. 

----

The fabric shop in town sold little baskets of sewing scraps for cheap. 

Thomas had never been much for sewing. He could do simple stuff - patching up a hole, repairing a sock - but he would be hopeless if you gave him an entire project. That meant he had never really explored the fabric store his town had to offer, and he'd never found the scrap baskets before. 

It was a little late. He'd rushed into town after his last job today to collect the sewing kit, which was now safely tucked in his satchel. He'd realised as he was beginning to rush home - hoping to get back before it got dark so he could light the oil lamps for Logan - that he didn't have much fabric at all back home. 

They had the pieces they had bought back at the parts store, but most of those weren't really suitable for clothes. Plus, with the furniture Logan had been making they were staring to run out.

The baskets here were more curated. There were various different types of fabrics in all sorts of colours and patterns. But not only that, there were buttons - of all sizes, even tiny enough for borrower clothes - leftover thread, pins and all sorts of other bits and bobs thrown in along side the scrap pieces.

The baskets were organised roughly by colour, and they were incredibly cheap since most people wouldn't have a use for the odds and ends of fabric. Thomas ended up buying three. One of whites and creams, one of blacks and greys and one of a range of blues. The blue basket was slightly more expensive than the others - some of the baskets with brighter colours were - but Thomas was willing to spare a few extra shillings for what he was fairly certain was Logan's favourite colour.  

He would bring them back and surprise the borrower with them. 

Oh he really hoped that Logan liked it.

----

"Logan?" Thomas called when he got home, eyes sweeping the dining room for his borrower friend. With the newly built lift attached to the dresser, Logan could get around this room, but Thomas was fairly certain he wasn't able to make it downstairs to the workshop on his own. "I've got some stuff for you!"

No answer. Thomas frowned, placing the baskets down on the dining table and walking over to the dresser to see if maybe Logan was sleeping or something. He didn't see Logan in his bed, nor sitting at his little table. He even peeked around the little divider Logan had made to give himself some privacy and didn't find the borrower there either. 

Thomas frowned at the absence of his friend, wondering where on earth he might be as he walked over to check the adjoined kitchen. Logan should've been able to hear him call from in here. The kitchen was only separated from the combined seating area and dining room by a half height wall. Thomas didn't even know how Logan would've gotten up onto the counters, since Thomas hadn't yet put together a second lift for them - though he did plan to eventually - but he knew borrowers were capable of many things humans didn't always expect from them. So he'd checked anyway.

Not finding Logan on the counters, though, Thomas had started to panic. 

"Logan?" He tried again, searching the unlit fireplace in case his tiny friend had gotten trapped in there somehow, and then searching the armchairs and cushions in case he'd climbed up and fallen down the side and gotten stuck.

Failing to find Logan in any of those places, Thomas finally turned to the staircase.

Had Logan attempted to go downstairs?

Thomas was worried if he had. He really needed to figure out how to make the stairs borrower safe, There was every chance an uninjured borrower would fall and hurt themselves trying to climb their way down Thomas' steps, which were already dangerous enough for a human being as steep and narrow as they were. Thomas himself had almost tripped on them a handful of times, and he had been living in this house for years up until this point. 

And not to mention the fact that Logan was injured too. Thomas had no idea how Logan would've been able to get down these stairs by himself. Or why he would risk it. 

Taking a deep breath, Thomas went back into the main room to light a lantern. Night had started to fall as he got back and now it was starting to get too dark to see without a lamp. He hastily went around lighting all of the lamps in the main room, before taking his hand held lantern to the stairs. 

As he made his way down them, Thomas inspected each step. It would be absolutely horrible if he ended up stepping on Logan should he actually be stuck on the stairs. 

He was glad he did, too. Because about halfway down the staircase he noticed a dark splodge curled up in the corner of a step. He wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been looking, especially not in the dark. Thomas wished he was rich enough to afford a lightbulb or two so he could see better at night.

Carefully, he passed the shape he was scared was Logan and turned around on the stairs, lowering his lantern to cast a light over what was, in fact, the sleeping form of his borrower friend curled up in the corner of the staircase.

Thomas had, for a split second, been terrified that Logan was dead. But with the light so close, he could see Logan's chest rising and falling, which eased his worry a tiny bit. 

Not enough to ready wave away all of his panic, though. Because what was Logan doing sleeping halfway down his staircase? Had something happened to him? Had he gotten stuck here? Had he been hiding from Thomas?

Without waking him up, Thomas couldn't tell if Logan was hurt or not. Unfortunately he also wasn't sure if waking Logan up was the best idea. Surely he was sleeping here for a reason. But the cold stone of the steps couldn't be good for the borrower, nor would it be comfortable. 

Eventually, Thomas realised that he was going to have to wake him up. He couldn't move Logan whilst he was sleeping without violating several boundaries the borrower had set, and he couldn't in his right mind let Logan stay here. Logan had asked Thomas before not to touch him without his permission, but Thomas could only assume going against that one wish would be better than going against that and several others by picking him up without asking whilst he was asleep and vulnerable. Especially when getting Logan to express those boundaries had been so difficult in the first place.

As gently as he could, Thomas reached out and gently nudged Logan with the tip of his finger. The borrower stirred, and then sat up with a start when Thomas whispered his name and poked him again. Logan looked around, clearly disoriented, noticing the lantern first and them looking over at Thomas. 

Thomas had been expecting upset when Logan woke up. When he was met with panic as Logan looked around, Thomas pulled back a little to give him space.

"Where am I?" Logan asked quickly, shifting only to hiss at a pain in his leg.

"I found you asleep on my stairs," Thomas said, gesturing up. Logan's eyes followed his hands and he frowned. The fear was starting to fade into something that might have been relief.

"You're back," Logan said, with a weight behind the words that said a lot.

"Yeah, I had to run some errands after work, but I'm back now - what happened to you? How'd you get down here?" Thomas asked, trying to keep his tone calm so that the borrower wouldn't think Thomas was mad. The last thing he needed was for Logan to try and make some kind of excuse that he thought Thomas wanted to hear rather than what actually happened. Logan looked down at his pawed feet. 

"I... wished to go to the workshop," Logan admitted quietly. 

"Right," Thomas nodded. Maybe the need for a borrower safe method of traversing the house was more of an immediate than he thought, "And...?"

It took Logan a little while longer to answer this time. It didn't seem like he was upset at Thomas' questioning, more so just a little embarrassed. Thomas didn't push him to speak, and eventually Logan did so on his own.

"I was doing so by lowering myself from each stair using my arms, until I got to this one," Logan gestured up to the stair above him, "I picked the wrong spot to hold, a piece came loose in my hand and I fell. I landed wrong on my injured leg and collapsed, deciding from that point it was not worth continuing."

Thomas nodded along as Logan spoke so matter-of-factly about what must have been a terrifying experience.

"I then realised that with my height, I could not reach the top of the stair again to pull myself back up without a high jump, which isn't achievable in my current state, and thus found myself stuck here," Logan gestured to the spot he was in now, "I figured I might as well rest here at the very least until the pain in my leg had subsided a little or you came back. And in doing so I must have fallen asleep."

Thomas nodded, before offering his hand, "Would you like help getting back upstairs? I can't imagine sleeping on the stone would be good for you."

Logan hesitated, looking up at Thomas' face for a long moment before standing up carefully, using the wall as a brace to stand and then slowly making his way over to Thomas' hand. The borrower near collapsed into Thomas' palm, which seemed to shock both of them, but once Logan was situated Thomas carried Logan back up to the dresser and put down his hand so Logan could climb off easily. The borrower immediately fell into one of the comfy looking chairs he had made for himself, setting his crutches to the side. 

"I've been thinking about how to make it easier for you to get around in here," Thomas said, "Admittedly I've been putting it off because I don't really have the money right now for more lift parts, and I'm not totally sure how to deal with the stairs, but I think it might be more important than I originally thought, huh?"

"I will not pressure you to do anything," Logan said.

"You wouldn't be pressuring me," Thomas quickly shook his head, "I'd do it either way, I'd just prefer your input so that I can actually make things easier for you, rather than harder or more complicated than they need to be."

"I... suppose that makes sense," Logan nodded.

"And that way you'll always have access to the workshop," Thomas said, "Or wherever else in the house you wanna go whilst I'm not here so you don't get too bored."

Logan nodded tentatively, "My projects are what have kept me occupied, since you have given me no work to do."

"Work?" Thomas asked, tilting his head in confusion.

"Yes, you know - the job I am supposed to have?" he pointed out.

"You have a broken leg, Logan," Thomas pointed out, "Even if I was gonna make you work, it wouldn't be until after that had healed, but I don't plan on making you work at all. That would be cruel of me."

Logan said nothing, and Thomas sighed.

"I did get something that might be able to stave off the boredom for a while without you having to get to the workshop, though," Thomas said, hoping to lighten the mood a little. It seemed to work, as Logan's ear twitched just the tiniest bit and he sat up a straighter. With a smile, Thomas moved back to the dining table where he had set down his things and rifled through his bag until he could pull out the sewing kit. The man he had commissioned had done a wonderful job, some of the pieces were nearly too small for Thomas to see properly. There were needles the correct size for Logan's hands, a miniature pincushion and pins to go with it, tiny spools of the thinnest thread in a range of colours, even a few pieces of paper, a pencil, ruler and measuring tape made to Logan's size. 

There was clearly a lot of detail and effort put into this by someone who actually seemed to care about the comfort of the tiny using it. Thomas was, honestly, glad he had spent that much money for it. The man who'd made this deserved every penny.

"I found you a sewing kit," Thomas announced as he placed the small paper wrapped box down on Logan's tiny table. Once again, Logan hesitated to inspect it, but eventually he moved to unwrap it, gasping softly when he saw the pretty wooden box everything was kept in. When he opened it, the surprise became astonishment as he saw all of the tiny pieces inside.

"You... where did you get this?" Logan asked, inspecting the sewing needles and then the thread. On his face was what was quite possibly the first some Thomas had seen from the borrower.

"I asked around," Thomas said proudly, "Found someone who makes this sort of thing to order and asked for one! I thought you deserved it."

"...It's fine craftsmanship," Logan admitted, "A human made this?"

"Yep! It's pretty impressive, right? I had no idea our big ol' fingers could make something so small."

"Me neither," Logan agreed, carefully putting everything back into its place within the box, "I'll be sure to take great care of it, I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"You don't have to repay me," Thomas shook his head, "It's a gift - speaking of!"

Thomas whirled around to grab the baskets from the table and bring them over for Logan to see. It was difficult to show him, since they were far bigger than the borrower, so he ended up holding them up to the edge of the table. 

"Sorry, they're a little big for you - I'll see if I have any better containers downstairs," Thomas said sheepishly, "But it's a bunch of fabric scraps and sewing bits they were selling really cheap at the fabric store. I thought at least some of it might be useful for you since we don't have much left of those other bits we bought."

"I-" Logan said, a little stunned as he stared at the contents of the baskets, "Thank you, I... cannot express how much I appreciate your generosity adequately."

"You don't have to," Thomas shook his head, "I can leave these up here - oh! Hmm... I wonder..."

Logan watched him as Thomas pulled out the top drawer of the dresser, putting down the basket to carefully remove the fancier plates that lived inside. He never used them, he figured it would be easy enough to find somewhere else to put them if this worked. 

Once the drawer was empty, Thomas positioned the baskets inside. They were taller, preventing the drawer from closing and coming up just a little lower than the full height of the dresser.

"Perfect fit! Now, if I make you a little ladder you'll be able to climb down into the baskets to grab bits," Thomas said, "Do you think that would work?"

"I... don't see why it wouldn't?" Logan said, looking a little dumbfounded, "I don't... understand... why you would give up your drawer for it, though."

Thomas shrugged, "Those plates may as well collect dust somewhere else, and I wanted these to be accessible to you whilst I'm not here - you should get to be independent."

Logan was silent for a long time before Thomas realised he wasn't going to say anything at all. 

"Right, uh, well I'm gonna figure out that ladder for you and then make us some dinner, sound good?" Thomas said, maybe just a little awkwardly.

Logan nodded, looking a little spaced out. Thomas felt a twinge of concern, but he didn't think it would be made better by pushing the issue. Instead he just nodded and made his way downstairs. putting together a ladder using toothpicks and some hastily whittled pieces of wood wasn't too difficult and hardly took very long. He'd likely made the ladder too long, but he could measure the distance and cut it to size when Logan was more okay with Thomas being nearby again. Clearly just now he had been trying to hint that he wanted Thomas to leave. That much was obvious enough.

Once he was done, he set about throwing together something the both of them could eat and leaving Logan's portion on the dresser for him to take whenever he was ready before grabbing his notebook and heading to sit down at the table with his own food. He had a whole lot of plans to make if he wanted to make this place safe for his borrower friend sooner rather than later.

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Parting the night before had hurt Janus. 

No matter what was proper, Janus had desperately wanted to follow his fellow prince to his room and spend the night. But Roman had gently declined, nudging Janus towards his own room and telling him to sleep well with a sweet kiss to his lips. Janus knew it was probably for the better that they were parting ways for now. It was proper and respectable, no matter what his heart wanted. 

When they had parted, Janus had invited Roman to breakfast with him the next morning. With Roman staying in the palace, Janus thought it would be a good opportunity to talk in a setting that was less formal and stuffy. 

Roman had agreed - to Janus' delight - and before he'd gone to sleep that night he'd instructed the maids to prepare a nice breakfast for the both of them the next morning.

The only problem now, was that Roman was late.

Janus tried not to let himself do something as undignified as fret. But he couldn't help but be worried about what would make Roman late for a breakfast he had agreed to. Janus tried to reassure himself that Roman had probably just slept in, or maybe gotten lost on the way. 

Either way, by the time it got to half an hour and the buffet of food was beginning to get cold, Janus decided it was probably time for him to go and seek out the man he had decided he wanted to court. He really hoped that there was a reasonable explanation for Roman's lateness, because if there wasn't Janus was certain he was going to end up devastated after the best night of his life.

The first place Janus would check was Roman's room. It only made sense, and if Janus had looked everywhere else first he would've felt just a little silly about it. 

Just as he had thought, knocking on Roman's door had gotten him a surprised yelp and a bang in response. Janus winced, he hoped Roman was okay.

"Roman, it's me, Janus" Janus said, resting his hand against the door, "You... never came to breakfast?"

"Oh- oh dear-" Came Roman's voice from inside the room, he sounded out of breath and nervous, for some reason. "Give me just a moment, please-"

Janus waited patiently. He was starting to think Roman actually had just slept in. 

"Alright- come in-" Roman called after a moment. Janus took a deep breath and pushed open the door. 

Roman was sitting across the room at the ornate, white wood vanity. Half obscured by the red drapes on the canopy bed and staring at the wall. The mirror on the vanity had been flipped on it's stand and Roman didn't turn to look at him when Janus closed the door behind him.

"Is... everything alright?" Janus asked tentatively, slightly worried that Roman was not, in fact, okay.

"I have not been completely honest with you, Janus," Roman said, "And I've felt terrible about it since last night. I'm sorry I never came to breakfast, I was trying to figure out... well... how to continue to keep myself hidden, I suppose, but then I realised that that wouldn't be right. I cannot have our relationship be founded on dishonesty."

That left Janus frowning in confusion. What in the world was Roman talking about?

"Roman...?" Janus asked, frowning, "What could you possibly have been hiding-?"

Roman stood, and that was when Janus noticed that he now had a scaly red tail that swept across the ground behind him with a plume of bright red fur at the end - yellow at the roots like a flame. He turned, and Janus' eyes widened when he saw Roman's face laiden with gold and red scales, dotting across his nose and cheeks. His eyes were the same as they had been the night before, except now his pupils were slit like a cat's. With the scales on his face visible, they seemed to glow. Amidst his untamed hair, Janus could now see a pair of small red horns that Janus was certain he hadn't had a moment ago.

Whilst Janus was staring in shock, Roman stood up and walked over to him, tail swishing across the stone floor behind him as he reached carefully for Janus. He didn't pull away when Roman reached for his hands, only tensed. Roman's hands were tipped with sharp looking red claws, though he was careful not to let them dig into Janus' hands.

"You.... you're a..." Janus whispered, trying to wrap his head around the fact that the man he had fooled around with and attempted to court the night before was a dragon, "Oh goodness - I'm so sorry for any offence I may have caused."

"Janus, darling-" Roman tried to interrupt.

"I can't believe how stupid I've been - I dressed up as a dragon- I was - parading around in what probably felt like a mockery of your people-"

"Janus," Roman said.

"I can't believe this, you can smite me if you wish, just-"

"Darling, please," Roman said, carefully cupping Janus' face with his hands. Finally, Janus gained the sense to shut up.

"...Yes?" Janus asked quietly.

"I am not upset with you," Roman said softly, "You are endearing, charming, and very very pretty, I feel there is little you could do to upset me."

"But I-"

"But nothing, darling," Roman huffed, leaning forward and kissing Janus' forehead, "I'm sincerely sorry to have lied to you, I was attempting to blend in."

"You did a great job," Janus said, Roman laughed.

"You do not need to lie to me, sweetheart, I know it went rather poorly," Roman corrected gently. Janus winced.

"I'm sorry - you probably hate me," Janus sighed, "I can't help lying, a lot of the time..."

Janus was well aware of dragon's preferences towards honesty. Lying to a dragon could easily be signing your own death warrant. Roman had lied to him, which could make it better, but Janus still wasn't certain enough not to worry at all. 

"None of that, my treasure," Roman said with a small smile, gently squishing Janus' face where he held it, "I have little problem asking again, or prompting you if you lie to me as I have been doing."

"...Really?" Janus asked, frowning at the dragon, "And... you really do want to court me?"

"Of course I do," Roman smiled, "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't, I assure you."

"But... why would you want me?" Janus asked quietly, "Surely... surely another dragon-?"

"No," Roman said, and Janus yipped in surprise when Roman scooped him up into his arms, spinning him around before pressing a kiss to his lips, "I would want no-one else."

Janus tried to push down the swooping flustered feeling that the gesture shot through his stomach, "That's so very sappy," He said, instead of any of the things he was currently feeling.

"Oh, you'll come to learn I am always sappy," Roman joked, "I'm sorry I was late to breakfast, my darling."

"It... it's fine, really, I understand now," Janus said, "I'm really just glad you didn't up and disappear on me."

Janus had meant it as a sly joke, but Roman looked downright devastated at the idea, "What sort of monster would do that to the person they planned to court? That would be so horrible of me to do-"

"It... happens to humans," Janus said softly, shocked that that wasn't something Roman was used to. 

"That... That's so sad, really?" Roman asked, looking upset as he looked down at Janus, "But is that not horrible?"

"Of course it's horrible," Janus shook his head, "But humans can be horrible sometimes, does that not happen to dragons?"

Roman just shook his head, before carrying Janus over to his bed and sitting, placing Janus onto his lap and letting his tail curl around him. With a glance at Roman to check if it was alright, Janus began to run his fingers through the feathered plume on the end of his tail.

"For dragons, courtship is incredibly important," Roman said, "It means a lot to us, and tends to be an incredibly long process in order for the two dragons to prove that they love each other - or break it off. Once a courtship is sealed, for us, it is for life."

Janus' eyes widened a little, "So, we-"

"Our courtship is not yet sealed," Roman said softly, hand travelling up Janus' back. The touch made his shudder, "I will admit, I rushed into things with you, because you are human - I've broken many a tradition, and I'm willing to break many more, but sealing our courtship at the heartstone is not something I will budge on."

Janus listened, curious as Roman explained, "We as humans don't have all that much information on dragons," he said, "You're going to have to elaborate."

With a chuckle, Roman scritched the hair at the back of Janus' neck, the sensation was almost enough to make him melt. "That's alright, I'm happy to explain - the heartstone is a large gemstone that resides in our kingdom, dragons swear their courtship in front of it and then take a chunk, with which they carve matching jewellery."

"Oh... Roman that sounds beautiful," Janus smiles, "Though I'm not sure I know how to carve jewellery."

Roman shook his head, "I can teach you, or find someone else to help if my teaching is not adequate - all else fails we can do it together."

"And you're absolutely sure you want to court me?" Janus asked, looking up at the dragon who was currently running claws through his hair. Janus tried to stamp down those feelings once again, but the look Roman was giving him was pure adoration. Janus wasn't entirely sure what he could have done to deserve such a look from someone so magnificent, but for some reason Roman was looking at him that way regardless.

"Of course I'm sure, my treasure, you are the most precious of humans I've ever met, I'd gladly have you for the rest of your life."

"I would like to get to know you better, but... I don't think I'd be opposed to that," Janus said with a soft smile, "...at least this revelation makes the nicknames make sense,"

Roman snorted, trying to contain a boisterous laugh that seemed like a great difference from how graceful he seemed. The sound made Janus smile.

"Well you are my newest and most precious treasure," Roman purred, "But... about that breakfast?"

"It's all cold by now," Janus huffed, shaking his head, "the maids probably cleared it away."

"Oh... I'm so sorry," Roman said, leaning down to gently nuzzle Janus' cheek. The scales on his face were hard and smooth, like he had gemstones set into his cheeks, "I didn't mean to ruin our breakfast."

"It's alright," Janus shook his head, even if he was still a little salty about it.

"It's not alright, I should've told you sooner," Roman said, squeezing him gently, "Instead of keeping myself a secret - really, I have to make up for my dishonesty-"

"It's- it's fine, really," Janus shook his head, "Heaven knows I've been far more dishonest than you have, you continuing to want me is repayment enough, I think."

Roman looked at him with his eyes wide and a little sad, "You are the sweetest - what shall we do about food if breakfast was ruined?"

"We can always steal from the kitchen?" Janus shrugged, as though the option to request a second breakfast wasn't there, "It could be fun."

"It certainly could," Roman said, letting the prince off of his lap, "Lead the way, my dear."

----

The next few days were spent rather peacefully. 

Janus was able to give Roman a proper tour of the palace and it's gardens, and the staff were slowly getting used to seeing a dragon around the place. Roman didn't seem worried about other's opinions, at least. Janus had been worried about that, especially when many people seemed to be somewhat scared of him.

When Janus had finally introduced Roman officially to his parents, they had been shockingly accepting towards Roman. Janus was pretty sure they were really just happy that Janus had someone to share his life with after multiple years of rejecting any and all suitors who would pursue him. Dragon or not, Roman had been accepted by Janus' parents, who'd called him sweet. Roman had been happy about it for the rest of the day, it was beautiful to see him so happy.

After three days, though, Roman brought up something much more important.

----

"I would like you to come back to my kingdom with me," Roman said softly as they laid together on Janus' bed, with Janus' head resting comfortably on Roman's stomach, and Roman carding fingers through Janus' long, blonde hair. 

"Hmm?" Janus asked, trying to wake himself up from the sleepy state Roman's petting had put him into. 

"I'm a Dragon Lord, I'm going to have to go back eventually," Roman told him, "I know you're prince here, too, but there's so much I want to show you! I want to introduce you to my brother, I need to check on my hoard, and of course there's the courting ritual, a lot of it can only be done in my homeland-"

Roman was starting ramble, as if Janus had considered denying him for even a second.

"I would love to come to your homeland with you," Janus said, turning his head to press a kiss to Roman's exposed stomach - he was once again wearing a crop top. Apparently it was a dragon thing, they preferred to wear as little clothing as possible apparently - Janus supposed they likely wouldn't wear any in their homelands, being fully dragon more often than not. 

"I- really?"

"Yes, of course," Janus smiled, "I've been able to show you around my home, at the very least you should get to show me around yours."

Roman brightened, jolting as though he'd stopped himself from fully leaping up and sending Janus flying. Janus chuckled at the thought.

"Oh I promise it'll be lovely, I'll take the best care of you I promise- you'll never want for anything," Roman said, wrapping and arm around Janus to pull him up to snuggle properly. Once they were sitting Roman's tail curled around Janus too.

"We'll only have to convince my parents," Janus pointed out, already burying his face into Roman's neck. 

"I'm sure they won't be too difficult to convince - they already like me, don't they?" Roman asked.

"Well... yes, but I still worry..." Janus hummed, "It'll be a big change, and they'll be wary because of the preconceptions we have about dragons, I'm sure we can strike some kind of deal, though..."

----

"Absolutely not!" The king yelled from his throne, "I forbid it, Janus, you are not going anywhere!"

This was one of the rare times Janus had actually addressed his parents properly. Usually if he needed something from them, or vice versa, they'd talk to him over dinner, or in one of their studies. Now, though, they were standing on the red carpet that led up steps to his parents thrones, with the king and queen sitting and looking down on the two of them.

It was the same way they would address visiting spokespeople from the kingdom asking for help or supplies, the same way they might address people of a lower status. The king wore an angry expression on his bearded face, and the queen looked apprehensive, even with her hands folded over her purple dress. Janus took a deep breath, knowing this would be difficult.

"Father-" Janus begins to protest, before Roman stepped forwards. He had wings on his back now, showcasing more of his draconic form than he normally did around the palace for everyone else's comfort. 

"Your highnesses," Roman said, wings spreading a little, "I have greatly enjoyed my time spent here in your magnificent kingdom, but I must return home at some point, I have my own kingdom to run."

Janus knew that the dragonlands weren't exactly a kingdom in the same way Janus' was. He'd explained how he was the equivalent of a prince, but they didn't have the same titles. Roman and his brother Remus were Dragon Lords, and they had claimed that position through a series of challenges. Janus wasn't sure on the details, but it had sounded like a ruthless and difficult affair. Janus wasn't surprised that Roman was willing to stand up to his parents.

"I wish to show Janus my homeland and kingdom, even if it is only for a short while," Roman told them, "My culture and customs are very important to me, and I would like to introduce him to those things as well."

His parents did seem to waiver at that. Roman's tone was persuasive and left little room for argument. Even they seemed to know better than to outright argue with a dragon - let alone a Dragon Lord. They may be of the same status as Roman, but that didn't mean they were equals.

"You can assure us he will be safe?" The queen asked, "As far as we know, sending a human into dragon country is practically giving them a death sentence."

"Dragons may be tougher and more combative, your majesty, but we are not cruel," Roman said, "We will not hurt any human unless they have wronged us first - tried to steal from a gold hoard or hurt one of us, for example. I have faith that Janus wouldn't do those things, and I will keep him safe, I promise you that.."

"And... Janus, you're sure about this?" Janus' father asked, looking over at him.

"I've never been more sure about something," Janus said, nodding his head. It was rare he felt he could be sincere with his parents, but in this moment it felt necessary. 

For a moment, his parents turned to each other and whispered. Whatever they said made Roman frown with his better hearing. Janus tensed a little as they waited for his parents to turn back to them, then they did both of them looked solemn.

"Give us a day to decide," The king said, sounding a little defeated, "This is not an easy decision - sending our only son into dangerous territory… I hope you understand."

"Of course, your highness," Roman said with a bow, "I will see you tomorrow."

With that, Roman took Janus' hand and led him out of the throne room. As soon as the carved wooden doors had closed behind him, Roman huffed out a cloud of smoke in irritation.

"You did a horrible job hiding how annoyed you were," Janus offered, and Roman smiled at him, "I don't think they realised."

"Thank you," Roman sighed, pulling Janus close with an arm around his shoulders, "You know I would keep you safe, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Janus said, leaning into Roman's side, "i don't doubt your ability to protect me, but they… they're not seeing you, they're seeing every rumour and terrible story we have about dragon kind."

Roman sighed softly, "Whatever did we do to earn such a horrible reputation with your people?"

"Nothing," Janus said, but Roman huffed.

"Try again?"

Janus sighed softly, "It really is very little that your people have done - humans just tend to fear anyone more powerful than then."

"And?" Roman asked, sensing that Janus wasn't telling the whole story.

"Well - you're people are territorial, I don't particularly think that's a bad thing, but people have turned stories about humans stupidly wandering into dragon territory with no escort and turned them into horror stories about your people's supposed cruelty."

"Just for defending our kingdom?" Roman asked, taken aback.

"Exactly," Janus sighed, shaking his head, "Come on, we should… do something nice, whilst we wait for a verdict."

The next afternoon, Janus and Roman had once again been summoned to the throne room. This time they seemed far less apprehensive and more determined, and Janus wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.

"We have a few conditions," The king said, after making them wait for a few minutes in silence, "And we will not allow you to go if they are not met."

"What are they?" Janus asked, barely containing his annoyance at the fact that his parents were controlling where he went at all. Roman reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Firstly, you will bring with you your personal guard," The king said, Janus frowned. Virgil should be arriving back today, but he had never been easy to convince when he didn't want to do something. Especially if that something was unknown or potentially dangerous. Unfortunately he couldn't deny that it made sense to bring Virgil along. He was the best fighter in the kingdom after all, if anyone stood a chance against a dragon it was him. Janus nodded.

"Alright…" He said, "I suppose that's reasonable, I'll talk to him tonight. What else?"

"You will return after a month, and no later," The queen took over, "if you are late with no word we will assume Janus has been killed and consider it a declaration of war that we will not hesitate to respond to accordingly. "

"An understandable response, but that will not be necessary," Roman shook his head, "I will ensure he returns home on time, even if I have to fly him here myself."

Janus was fairly certain Roman wouldhave to fly them anyway. At least part of the way. The dragonlands were treacherous to traverse if you weren't fireproof as dragons typically were. Especially in a carriage or on a horse. Dragons could also be rather hostile if you seemed to pose a threat, which Janus was sure Roman wouldn't want to risk. But he didn't say that as his parents hummed in approval.

"Next - you must send us letters, if you can," Janus' mother said, "Even if it's just to let us know you're alive. We'll be worried sick, otherwise."

"I will do my very best," Janus nodded, smiling as his parents nodded back in approval. 

"We can do that," Roman nodded, "It won't be the traditional way - but we have magic that'll let Janus write to you.2

"See to it that you do," The king said, "When will you be wishing to leave?"

"Is three days acceptable?" Janus asked, both to his parents and to Roman, "As long as we can get Virgil on board?"

Roman hummed, flexing his wings, "Three days sounds like more than enough."

"Three days it is then," The king nodded, "We will see you off - ensure that Virgil hears about this and have him tell us that he agrees, you are not to leave without him."

"I promise, father," Janus said with a bow, before taking Roman's hand and heading from the room. As soon as they'd turned the corner of the hallway, Roman made an excited noise and swept Janus off of his feet, lifting him easily and spinning him around before crushing Janus to his chest in a way that left Janus' feet dangling above the ground.

"Oh I'm so happy!" Roman chirped, shifting to instead cradle Janus in his arms, "I'll show you my home, everything-"

"That's as long as Virgil agrees," Janus said, before groaning, "He's going to be so annoying about this, I already know it..."

"I don't believe I've met a Virgil?" Roman asked, curious.

"He had a few days off around the festival," Janus said, shaking his head, "He's back today, he can be a little... grumpy?"

Janus waved his hand back and forth and Roman frowned, carrying Janus off back to his room as the two of them talked, "You think that'll make things difficult?"

"I suppose we'll just have to see..."

----

"Are you a fucking moron?" Virgil practically yelled when Janus explained the situation and their plan. As someone of a lower station, there was no way Virgil should be speaking to Janus like that. Janus, however, had found he didn't particularly mind Virgil's brashness. As a prince, it was rare to find someone who was willing to speak their mind to you, and sometimes Janus needed that. Right now, however, was not one of those times.

"Virgil," Janus snapped, making his guard startle, "I did not come here for your opinion on the matter."

"Janus-" Virgil pleaded, shaking his head, "I- I cannot in good faith let you do this."

"In that case I sincerely wish I didn't have to take you," Janus glared at his guard, who he knew he would want by his side no matter what he said, "Unfortunately, my parents have insisted that I cannot go without you as an escort, despite the fact that I trust Roman fully to keep me safe regardless."

"You've only known Roman for a few days! How do you know he's not dragging you back to the dragonlands just to kill you?" Virgil hissed, shaking his head as he glared at the floor, unwilling to fix such a look on his prince like he wanted to, "I wouldn't have expected you to end up lovesick, Your Highness, but it's making you act a fool-"

"My parents would send armies into the dragon lands if I don't return, he gains nothing but a war if he kills me, I am most certain Roman wouldn't be stupid enough to do that," Janus shook his head, irritated by his guard's refusal.

"And you know I won't really be any help if we were attacked by dragons, don't you?" Virgil said after a deep breath.

"Virgil," Janus said, "You are by leagues the best knight this kingdom has to offer-"

"Oh now I know you're lying to me," Virgil said, turning away.

"No, I'm not," Janus huffed, "I wouldn't lie about that - you are the only person I would trust with my entire life. You are my best friend, and even if you were not my guard I would want you there with me. I'm not nervous at all about how it'll go, of course, but... I could use your presence."

Virgil stood there for a long moment, stunned into silence.

"Also my parents won't let me go if you're not there."

Virgil laughed, "Yes, and I'm glad they at least see sense."

"Rude." Janus huffed.

"You know me," Virgil said, "And you'd also know that I really don't want you to do this."

"I know," Janus sighed, "Is there any way I could persuade you?"

"Any chance I'd be able to meet this Roman you're willing to run off to the dragon lands for?" Virgil asked, crossing his arms, "See if he really is all that wonderful?

"I… believe that would be an acceptable request," Janus nodded, "Are you busy right now?"

"I'm your guard," Virgil rolled his eyes, "Now that I'm here I'm back on duty, so no."

"Wonderful, follow me then."

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“So… the rain has stopped,” Roman observed, looking out of the tree hollow and down at the clearing below, finding himself a lot less scared than he had been the night before. Being able to sleep safe and dry with all of the soft blankets Virgil had in their… nest? Had been quite comfortable. Virgil crouched on a branch just outside of the hollow. The early afternoon sun was finally peeking through the clouds, lighting the trees and leaves in a warm golden colour.

“How observant of you,” Virgil said, tone mocking but not mean, “Come on, we should head down.”

Roman felt a wave of nausea as he looked down again, glancing back at Virgil, “You uh - do you think - you could maybe carry me back down?”

Rolling their eyes, Virgil made their way back over to Roman, scooping him into their arms yet again and beginning to make their way back down from the tree back to the clearing.

Roman’s breath left him as he looked around, the growing sunlight illuminated the spiderwebs so decorated beautifully with water droplets casting tiny rainbows over the space. The clearing looked almost ethereal - Roman almost felt bad about wanting to go home. 

“Well- you wanted to head back to the village,” Roman said once Virgil put him back down, brushing himself off and making sure all of his things were accounted for, “If we’re going to get back before dark, we should start walking.”

“We don’t need to walk,” Virgil said, and when Roman gave him a confused look Virgil sighed and made more of those strange spider-y chittering sounds, “They can help us.”

As they spoke, a few of the largest spiders came scuttling from somewhere beyond the trees, one of them greeting Virgil with a few clicks. And the other Roman with a wave of a foreleg, Roman waved back. It was strange how aware of their mannerisms he had become after only a few hours of real interaction. A little too late, Roman caught onto what Virgil was saying.

“Wait- I can’t-” Roman protested as Virgil swung their leg over the back of the spider to sit on its back almost as if it were a horse, he stared at the spider crouched in front of him, clearly waiting for him to do the same thing, “Surely I’m too heavy?”

“You’re not,” Virgil said, waving a hand, “They’re far stronger than I am, and you know that I can carry you - they carried you back here from your tree.”

“They did?” Roman yelped, glancing back at the crowd of spiders and then back at Virgil even as he realised he must have gotten to the clearing somehow and he certainly hadn’t been dragged all of the way, his clothes would be much more messed up and dirty if that were the case, “Okay… if you’re sure.”

—-

“From here, we’re going to have to be a little stealthy, oh, and you’ll need to walk like me,” Roman told Virgil as the spiders who brought them here disappeared into the undergrowth. There wasn’t far left to travel through the forest until they arrived at the edge of the village.

“Why?” Virgil asked, tilting their head, though they still followed his instruction and stood up to their full height. Roman was a little startled to find that Virgil was actually taller than him by a few inches, the way they coiled themself up simply made them look shorter. 

“Because only two people know I went in here, and I don’t want you to stick out so obviously,” Roman said, waving Virgil forward, “Any ideas about what you want to see first?”

They walked silently for a moment. Roman was happy to let Virgil think about it, the silence only gave him more time to work out what he would tell people when they inevitably asked who Virgil was. 

“Wherever the sweet stuff came from,” Virgil said, decisively, “Take me there.”

“Sweet stuff?” Roman asked, frowning.

“Yes, it was… golden, and thick?”

“Honey?” Roman said, almost to himself, “That’ll be the bakery, right.”

“...Bakery,” Virgil muttered, as though committing the word to memory.

Roman nodded, “There’s a bunch more in the bakery than honey, though, and my friend there knows where I was going, so it’s a wonderful place to start! Come this way.”

He was able to get them both out of the forest unnoticed. Virgil pulled up their hood as they got closer to the centre of town. People stopped to stare from where they were tending their gardens in the late afternoon or walking down the street with bags of wares. Roman couldn’t argue that Virgil looked abnormal regardless, and belatedly he remembered that he was also a complete mess. He’d have to see if Patton would let him borrow something until they got back to his own house. They reached the bakery. 

“We’re clos- oh! Roman! You’re back! Did you find anything? Were you hurt?” Patton called as he rushed from the back of the bakery upon hearing the bell over the door. Roman quickly closed the door behind them once Virgil had made their way inside.

“Hey Patton,” Roman said, smiling, “I had an easier time than expected, no I’m not hurt, oh,  and this is Virgil! Virgil, this is my friend Patton.”

“Hi ther- augh-” Patton said, jumping back when he really looked at Virgil, “Uhm- you’ve got a- a- uh-”

Virgil frowned, glancing over their shoulder in confusion, when they found no other reason for Patton’s fear, they hunched their shoulders, curling awkwardly in on themself as though to make themself seem like less of a threat. Roman sighed.

“Patton is a little scared of the spiders,” Roman explained, “Sorry, I should’ve mentioned that before we came in.”

“Oh,” Virgil said, even as Roman watched them he saw many of the spiders littering their cloak scuttle away, some onto the ground and some underneath the fabric to hide, “They don’t mean to scare you.”

Patton gasped at the spiders’ quick retreat, “O-oh! Well um, I don’t mean to be scared, but… well! It’s fine! Virgil, was it? Do you two want to sit down? Anything I can get for my favourite customer and his new friend?”

“Something with… honey?” Virgil asked, tilting their head as they looked over at Roman.

“Yeah, whatever you have that’s made with honey, and my usual if you’ve got it,” Roman said, shooting a smile Virgil’s way, “Oh- but I’ll have to pay you later, I don’t have any money with me.”

“That’s okay!” Patton called from the back, “Take it on the house! You look like a mess.”

“Wow,” Roman said, rolling his eyes, “Thanks.”

Patton chuckled as he placed a plate of pastries between them, “None of these were sold today - so they’d go to waste if you didn’t eat them - have you been to see Logan yet? He was trying to keep Remus distracted earlier, he’ll appreciate knowing your back.”

A dark look crossed Virgil’s face at that statement and Roman looked at them, an eyebrow raised in confusion while his mouth was full of sweet sugar pastry. 

“Remus? The Spider Killer?” Virgil asked, voice abnormally small as they stared at Roman with wide eyes. Roman paled, “He’s… here?”

“He’s… actually my brother,” Roman admitted once he’d finished his mouthful, Virgil went to say something else, but Roman was too quick, “Somehow I knew he’d have a reputation for what he does - I try to stop him, but he… finds it fun.”

“I don’t want to meet him,” Virgil said, shaking their head, “I don’t want anything to do with him.”

Nodding, Roman sighed, “That’s understandable - would you like to visit the library?” he asked instead, tilting his head.

“Library…?”

“It’s uh - big building with a lot of books, and one of my other friends will be there,” Roman explained quietly as he went to eat another one of the pastries, sighing happily at the flavour. 

“...Sure,” Virgil said, frowning, “I can’t read, though.”

“That's okay!” Roman said, “Though Logan might want to teach you, it’ll be nice for you to meet him either way.”

“Alright,” Virgil nodded, “We can do that.”

—-

Roman had been able to get Patton to lend him some clothes until he could return to his own house - which was looking even more unlikely now that he knew Virgil knew Remus. He really hoped that wouldn’t end badly. 

Instead, he led Virgil down to the library. It was late enough that the library wouldn’t be allowing visitors anymore. Roman knew that Logan would still be there, though, and Roman was an exception. 

He knocked on the library door, with Virgil hiding behind him just a little as they waited for Logan to open the door.

“Oh Roman,” Logan said, seeing him, quickly waving them into the library and closing the door behind him, “Thank goodness you’re safe, who’s your friend?”

“This is Virgil,” Roman said brightly, stepping aside to introduce them. Virgil gave a small awkward wave.

“Nice to meet you,” Virgil said softly, looking down at their feet.

“Nice to meet you as well, my name is Logan, welcome to the library,”  Logan said, stepping aside to let them in, “Please don’t mind the mess, I’ve been attempting to corral Remus all day and now the place is a mess.”

“...Ah,” Roman says, realising a fatal mistake, glancing back at Virgil, who looked just as uneasy, “Is…. he still…?”

“Indeed, but he is now sleeping on the sofa, thank goodness, I’m not sure how much more of his… Remus-ness I could handle.”

“I think I would rather not be here,” Virgil decided. Stopping in their tracks. 

“Is… something wrong?” Logan asked, confused. 

“Uhh - okay, stay here, Virgil, I’ll be right back, Logan, c’mere I’m going to talk to you for a second,” Roman said, dragging Logan further into the library. Virgil looked confused, but waited in the entrance as Roman dragged Logan away.

“Okay, so - Virgil is uh- one of the spiders?” Roman said, “Or - something like - they live out in the woods with them, and the spiders are semi-sentient, they’re Virgil’s family, and Remus has not got a very good reputation with them.”

Logan looked at him blankly.

“Just trust me - I know you don’t really believe the spiders are sentient, but I’ve been in the woods and I’ve seen it - they can communicate with the spiders - they have a whole language, I’m sure they’d show you if you asked, but we just need to keep them away from Remus, okay?”

Sighing, Logan nodded, “Alright, fine, let's go see your friend.”

When they returned to Virgil, Roman realised they had made a grave mistake by leaving Virgil there alone. 

“Where’d you come from? I’ve never seen you before,” Remus was asking as he poked at Virgil. To be entirely fair, Virgil was doing a remarkably good job of remaining stoic, brushing away Remus' poking hands. and standing up at their full height - looking rather intimidating.

"Leave me alone," Virgil said, firm but not angry. Remus huffed.

"Awee, you're not even gonna answer one question?" Remus sighed, "Oh hey Roro! You know this guy? He's real weird and covered in spiders."

"Yes, Remus," Roman sighed, "This is Virgil, and I would appreciate it if you'd stop touching them, they’re a new friend."

"I thought you were off getting fabrics, not a boyfriend," Remus said, but to his credit he did back away from Virgil, who visibly relaxed when he did so.

Roman took a deep breath, "I... lied to you, Remus, I went into the forest, I was attempting to find the source of the spiders and stop them coming into the village."

"Ooh! Are we finally gonna get to destroy em?"

The question made Virgil flinch, Roman stepped back and put his hand on Virgil's arm.

"No," Roman said, "We're not destroying anything. They're a civilisation, just like us - like I've always been telling you, we can't hurt them, okay?"

Remus rolled his eyes, "You and your sentiment."

"It's not sentiment," Virgil said, near hissing, "It's respect for your fellow beings, and if you don't learn some like your brother has I fear I cannot be responsible for what my siblings choose to do to you."

"Ooooh! Creepy!"

"Remus, he's being serious," Roman shook his head, "If I hadn't been friendly to them, I would be dead, if you had gone into the woods in my place you would be dead for what you've done to them. I don't want a dead brother, please listen, for once in your life."

Remus stared at Roman, unwavering, for a long moment, before sighing.

"Fine," Remus said, shaking his head, "If you insist, I'll stop killing the creepy crawlies, but I can't promise I'll be nice to them."

Virgil took a deep breath, "That... I suppose that'll have to be good enough for now."

"Yes!" Remus said, "So... what did you promise the spooky guy to get all the spiders to leave?"

"He's showing me the village," Virgil said, "and all the things your people have."

"Oh awesome!" Remus said brightly, "So, what have you seen so far?"

"The bakery," Virgil said, "Roman's friend gave me a treat, and now we're here to look at books."

"Indeed, hm - Virgil, do you know how to read?" Logan asked, reappearing - Roman hadn't even noticed him leave, "I was looking around to see if we had any books you might enjoy, but I realised I don't actually know much about your reading ability, and thus thought I should ask you."

"...Reading?" Virgil asked slowly, frowning.

"Well," Logan hummed, "I suppose that answers that question, come, I'm sure I can find something, I can help you learn, if you like?"

Virgil seemed vaguely interested, and Roman realised he was probably about to lose his friend to the library for the next few hours.

The idea just had Roman smiling - he was glad that Virgil was enjoying himself. Roman would be happy to wait until Virgil was done in the library to move on with their tour.

"You like him," Remus said, turning on Roman with a knowing grin, "Don't you?"

"Of course not," Roman rolled his eyes, "I would never."

----

Taglist:

He had to admit he had a little too much fun walking into the toy store fully clad in his villain uniform—he had Roman wear his own mask too, just in case—and then strolling about the store quite harmlessly, pushing a shopping cart in Roman’s happy wake and blithely ignoring the stares and murmurs of the other shoppers and employees. Instead he focused on Roman’s chatter and on answering his every single hesitant “can I—?” with an immediate “Yes,” no matter what.

The cart filled up quite rapidly as a result of this strategy, and though Virgil did his best to encourage Roman, eventually the child took notice of how many items he’d already chosen and clearly reigned himself in, much to Virgil’s chagrin.

“Um—” Roman hesitated, no longer bouncing around. “I think I’m done. This is plenty.”

“It’s not a problem,” Virgil assured him.

But Roman nodded his head. “I’m done.” He assessed Virgil’s face, where he likely found some trace of worry or dissatisfaction, because he then added comfortingly, “I mean, if it’s really important to you, it would definitely be okay for you to get me more later.”

This startled a laugh out of Virgil. “Good to know,” he said, allowing Roman to lead the way to the cash register.

***

Logan took a deep breath, then knocked on the door.

“Patton, baby, can you get it?” he heard Janus call from inside.

“Okay!” Patton responded; there were thumping footsteps, and the noise of the lock unbolting.

Logan set down the bag he was carrying, letting it lean against the wall, and braced himself as the door swung open.

Patton’s jaw dropped. “Uncle Logan?” He sprung into motion almost before he finished talking, and even though Logan had been prepared for it, the impact of Patton literally leaping into his arms sent him stumbling back a half step.

“Uncle Logan!” Patton repeated in a happy shriek, a little too close to Logan’s ear for comfort, his voice now bearing the undertones of a croak and the texture of his skin going from warm peach-fuzz to clammy and cool in the span of only a second or two.

Logan pressed a kiss to the little boy’s temple. “Hello, Tadpole,” he greeted, shifting to hold Patton more securely—the child was really too big to be picked up at this point, but his frog powers made him more than strong enough to climb anyone he pleased and hold on for as long as he wanted, so this made little difference. “I’ve missed you.”

“Well, I missed you, missed you, missed you! Which is more,” Patton said, nodding decisively. “You got too busy.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Logan tousled Patton’s hair. “How has—”

“Um, did you know Daddy got a boyfriend?” Patton interrupted. “It was a long time ago now, um, his name’s Remus. He’s really fun and cool.”

“I did know that, yes. He works in my lab.”

“What?” Patton shrieked, once again testing the strength of Logan’s eardrums.

“Indeed.” Logan pried Patton off himself and lowered the child to the ground.

“I didn’t know that!” Patton hopped in place. “So you’re friends with him?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Logan picked up his bag and offered Patton his hand. “How has school been?”

Patton lit up again. “I can jump twelve feet high!” he started, and was off in an eager babble. Logan led him through the door, closing and locking it behind them, and sat on the living room couch, where Patton stood before him, still clasping Logan’s hand, hopping back and forth from foot to foot, seeming too energized to sit down as he continued eagerly telling Logan every little detail that came to mind.

Logan listened and nodded along, interjecting the occasional comment or question. Across the open floor plan, in the kitchen, he could see Janus and Remus; Remus’s back was to the living room, his arm was around Janus’s waist, and Janus was gazing up at him with an unguarded, adoring look, leaning up every so often to exchange tiny kisses in between the quiet conversation they seemed to be holding.

Logan, seeing that his attention was unlikely to be needed there while the pair of them were so engrossed in each other, looked back to his nephew and allowed himself to focus fully on Patton’s excited ramble.

At last, when Patton’s frog features had mostly faded away into relative calm and he had talked himself out for the time being, he drew in a huge gasp, turned on his heel, and flopped backwards to lay on the sofa beside Logan. “Do you think Remus’s mustache is silly?” he inquired, looking at the ceiling. “I think it makes him look like a hipster.”

Logan could not hold back a startled snort of laughter at the comparison.

“A WHAT?” Remus demanded at the top of his lungs from the kitchen, not turning around, sounding absolutely scandalized.

Patton bounced to sit upright at once, giggling. “It does!” he insisted. This, from both of their tones, was clearly an ongoing argument.

Logan could see where the child was coming from; he himself had, on occasion, devoted the occasional amused thought to pondering what percentage of Remus’s income must be devoted to mustache wax. The young man seemed to always have a container on his person, and spent a not-insignificant amount of time every day fiddling with his mustache, ensuring that its upward-curled tips were never less than pristine and perfectly pointed.

“You are the most pernicious, mischievous, slanderous little delight of a rapscallion I have ever—” Remus cut off very suddenly as he fully turned towards the sofa and caught sight of Logan. “Doc?” he said after a moment’s flabbergasted staring.

Well. The fact that he had immediately recognized Logan, despite never having seen his unmasked face before, was—well, since it was Remus and Logan trusted Remus, it was a good sign. Though it would have been disconcerting in most other circumstances.

Logan waved. “Hello.” He cleared his throat. “It’s—Logan, actually.”

Remus drew in a breath of realization, looking back to Janus. “That’s why you pronounce ‘Logic’ so weird sometimes?”

“It’s—listen, it’s not my fault his supername is so similar to his real name,” Janus said, flushing with embarrassment. “I—” She looked over at Logan helplessly. “I’ve never actually let it slip! I promise!”

“I know,” Logan assured him. “I would have known, and we would have had a very long conversation about it, if you had ever done so.”

“That’s not really reassuring,” Janus muttered with a roll of their eyes.

“Good,” Logan retorted lightly.

“Here, let me—” Remus moved around the kitchen counter into the living room and offered a hand to take the bag from Logan. Logan handed it off, and Remus hastened back to the kitchen, setting it down on the counter and unloading the food inside it.

Janus made a pleased noise, picking up the container of deviled eggs and transferring it to the fridge. “Ooh, my favorites.”

“I’m aware,” Logan said, offering Patton his palm to drum on. “That is precisely why I brought them.”

“I mean, I would hope you wouldn’t bring something I didn’t like on purpose.” Janus moved to the stove and lifted the lid of a pot simmering on it to check whatever was inside.

“I would not,” Logan agreed, “nor would I do so by accident, since I am very familiar with your tastes.”

“Yeah, yeah, you know everything about everyone, I get it.” Janus replaced the lid and reached up to set a timer on the microwave.

“Not quite,” Logan felt he ought to correct, though he was pleased by the flattery. “I do believe I know very close to everything about you, specifically, though.”

“Hey! I’m mysterious!” Janus put their hands on their hips.

Logan only bothered to dignify this argument with “I have known you since you were fifteen years old.”

Janus rolled her eyes, clearly trying not to smile. “Whatever. Shall we play a game before dinner?”

“Yes!” Patton answered first, followed by slightly slower (Remus) and quieter (Logan) agreement from the rest of the room. Remus followed Patton to the shelf tucked in the corner of the room, while Logan set about clearing space on the coffee table.

“Oh, this puzzle looks super sick,” Remus commented, picking up a box and hefting it consideringly.

“Nope!” Patton grabbed it right back and hastily returned it to its place on the shelf. “We can’t play puzzles with Uncle Logan,” he explained in a loud whisper.

“Oh, I see,” Remus whispered loudly back—his clearly a deliberate stage whisper rather than an accident born of youth. “How come?”

“It makes him go like this.” Patton hopped over to sit next to Logan on the couch and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clutching his head with both hands, making an exaggerated face of despair.

Remus looked over at Logan, clearly not sure if he was allowed to laugh; Janus, displaying no such qualms, was already in fits of delighted giggles at Patton’s imitation.

Logan smiled in spite of himself; Patton was simply too adorable. “Well. I try my best not to do that,” he commented mildly. “But sometimes it is very hard.”

“He’s toooooooooooo smart,” Patton explained to Remus. “And it bugs him watching everyone else do the puzzle wrong.” He scooted back across the couch until he could dangle over the arm to reach the shelf once more and pulled out a board game. “We should play this one instead! This one is lots of fun!”

Janus had by now composed himself, though slower and more dramatically than Logan thought was strictly warranted. (There had been a bit too much overexaggerated dabbing tears of laughter from her eyes for Logan’s taste.) “That’s a great choice, baby,” she told Patton, dragging the armchair from the corner over to within arm’s reach of the coffee table and relaxing into it.

Remus sat himself cross-legged on the floor by Janus’s knee and busied himself helping Patton to unpack and set up the game.

Janus was right, Logan noted—the game was indeed a good choice; he’d played it with Janus and Patton a handful of times before. It was a cooperative game with enough complexity to entertain on repeat playthroughs, while remaining simple enough that explaining the rules to Remus didn’t take too long. Patton was able to handle most of it during the setup.

“Coolio,” Remus commented at last, leaning against the side of Janus’s armchair. “I think I got it.” He picked up the green player token and moved it to the start point.

“There is plenty of room on the couch, Remus,” Logan pointed out.

“I’m good,” he said, reaching over and patting vaguely at Janus’s shins by way of explanation. “Thanks, though.”

Logan nodded and didn’t push it. He calculated that probably at least 70% of Remus’s motivations, if not more, truly did lie in being as close as possible to Janus—but he also detected just a hint of tension and apprehension in Remus’s demeanor.

It took very little thought to find a likely reason. Janus had said they weren’t telling Remus or Patton ahead of time that Logan was coming; Patton was, of course, more than accustomed to Logan’s presence, but Remus until now had only known him within the context of Dr Logic. Perhaps Logan wasn’t the only one feeling minor trepidations about adjusting to each other’s company in this new setting. And at least Logan had known to expect it. Remus, by Logan’s best estimation, must be trying to guess if this was truly a casual environment, or if he was expected to continue to behave with a semblance of professionalism in front of Logan, even outside of work.

Logan would simply have told Remus outright that all was well, but this would likely have inspired some defensiveness from Janus—he could tell they hadn’t yet realized anything was amiss with Remus, and the realization would certainly be an unwelcome one, what with how fond and protective of him they were. So Logan decided to wait for an opportune moment to speak to Remus, and in the meantime turned his focus back to the game and to Patton, who had easily taken his place as tiny director of the team.

“Remus, you can be focused on the forest,” Patton was saying, “and, um, for that, the bluebirds are pretty good, but the mushrooms are definitely the most important in the forest. And the hedgehogs are okay if you get one, but don’t, like, try to get them, they really don’t matter so much. The foxes are super cute but we don’t want them, try and trade them for owls if you can. Okay?”

Remus nodded seriously, palming the two forest die from the pile of supplies in the middle of the board. “What’s our policy on squirrels?”

“Oh, those are good too, but not as good as the mushrooms still.” Patton eyed the board critically. “Uncle Logan, you can do the water cycle like you normally do,” he suggested. (Logan found this greatly amenable and accepted the little bag of tokens with a smile.) “Mama, I want a turn running the market, so can you do the maze?”

“Sure, baby.” Janus took the spinner and balanced it on the arm of his chair, then went back to winding Remus’s curls around his fingers.

Patton beamed, lining up the different stacks of cards on the marked spaces in the market section. “Perfect! So I get to go first, because I’m the youngest and it’s the weekend.” He waved the rulebook, though nobody challenged the statement.

“So wait—” Remus pointed to the round base placed on the center of the board. “Who’s in charge of building the tree?”

“Everybody is,” Patton explained, rolling the basic non-forest dice, consulting Janus’s spinner, and marking down the results on the chart whiteboard. He moved his token forward a few spaces, passed a card from the market to Remus, and drew two for himself. “Technically everybody does everything whenever they need to, but Daddy and Uncle Logan and me figured out it gets a lot easier if each person keeps track of one section of the game the most. But everybody builds the tree, it doesn’t work otherwise.” He frowned at the cards. “I can’t put down any trunk pieces yet, so I guess I end my turn.”

Logan was next, and with a lucky roll from both the dice and the spinner, not only was he able to place the first trunk piece on the tree base, he also collected an owl and a card from the market, and he even scheduled a rainstorm for his next turn. A highly satisfactory first-round turn, if he did say so himself.

Gameplay continued on; Remus only had to be talked through his turn for a couple of rounds before he really started to get the hang of it. Logan clocked the exact moment—during his own turn on the fourth round—when Remus noticed the pride flag Logan wore on his watchband. He barely reacted, really hardly more than a blink, but that was still enough for Logan to notice it happen. The lack of fanfare was a tremendous reassurance—much greater than Logan had expected, in fact. Remus was clearly surprised, but not deeply so. It was news to him, but unremarkable news. Logan could practically hear the way he might say, “Oh! Neat,” before shrugging and moving on.

Well, there was that out of the way. Simple, quick, and relieving. Logan had, of course, known his nerves over coming out to Remus were overblown, but it was delightful nonetheless to be proven so thoroughly right.

The timer went off; Janus tossed the spinner at Logan’s head and slipped back into the kitchen.

“I can take that, Doc,” Remus offered quickly.

“Thank you, Remus.” Logan, who had rolled his eyes and made no effort to catch the spinner, picked it up off the couch where it had landed after bouncing off of him. “And you are welcome to call me Logan here,” he added, catching Remus’s gaze to make direct eye contact as an underline to his sincerity. “When I am out of my suit, my intent is that my ‘work hat’ is fully off. I intend for this to be more of a ‘casual’ setting, if you will.”

Remus bit back a smile. “You don’t need to do all those air quotes, I get it.” He situated the spinner on the table to the side of his various other game pieces. “Thanks,” he added, with a hesitant, “Logan.”

“Of course.” Logan nodded once, feeling hopeful that this exchange would successfully diffuse the slight awkwardness that had been in the air between them.

“Daddy, it’s your turn!” Patton called.

“You can skip me,” Janus responded.

Patton wrinkled his nose at the suggestion. “Can I do your turn for you?” he suggested instead.

“Sure.” There was a clattering of silverware. “Dinner’s ready in, like, maybe three minutes, though.”

“You want help, babe?” Remus hopped to his feet without waiting for an answer and made for the kitchen.

“I think that may be our cue to pause the game,” Logan informed Patton, who was busy moving about Janus’s tokens and cards.

“Okayyyy,” Patton agreed, not with enthusiasm. “Can you sit next to me at the table, too? I still have so much stuff to tell you!”

“I would be delighted to,” Logan informed him wholeheartedly.

***

By the time Roman and Virgil made it back to the lair, in addition to the clothes, toys, art supplies, and school supplies, they were also laden down with a bucket of red paint, some brightly-colored bedding and curtains, new snacks and sweets, and several boxes of furniture—a desk, some shelves and cupboards, hooks to hang on the walls, a bulletin board and some tacks, and further such things—that Virgil hoped would be more useful to Roman than the current setup of his room was. 

“Can we paint my room now?” Roman asked the moment they walked in the door, eyeing the paint bucket as Virgil set it on the countertop.

Virgil glanced at the clock. “I think not tonight,” he said, with some regret at the general concept of refusing anything to the kid. “It’s pretty much time for dinner. And it wouldn’t be good to sleep in a room full of wet paint. We can work on it tomorrow, or I can just have it done on Monday while you’re out at school. Or a bit of both. Whatever you want.”

“I want to do the painting!” Roman insisted. He twisted the paint bucket around until he could see the label and began reading it with interest.

“Sounds good. Tomorrow, then.” Virgil pulled up his calendar on his watch and checked his schedule for the next day. Pretty empty; one pending fight request from a hero whose name only sounded vaguely familiar. He opened that up and hit the decline button, then blocked off a few hours of his schedule for the painting escapade. After a moment’s consideration, he increased the length a bit, figuring that the chance of needing a shower afterward was high. Satisfied with this, he saved the calendar.

Roman had rapidly lost interest in the small print on the paint can, and was now rummaging through the bags. “Is this seriously all mine?” he inquired a little suspiciously.

“I don’t think that raincoat would exactly fit me, buddy,” Virgil wisecracked. “Yeah. All yours.”

“Wow,” Roman breathed, just as he obviously spotted the Lego bag amid the pile; he dropped the raincoat like a hot potato and pounced.

“What do you want for dinner?” Virgil asked hastily, before Roman could get too lost in that.

“Um, anything,” Roman said, clearly more focused on ripping open the box he’d selected. “Can I do this out here?” He looked up to gauge Virgil’s response. “Or does my stuff have to stay in my room?”

“Here is great,” Virgil said with a smile, and went to go see what he had in the fridge.

-

"It broke."

"Just spin it back together."

Logan watched as Janus plucked the fluffy wool tail out of Remus' hand and laid it over his working wool.

"Go on," Janus encouraged.

Remus twirled the drop spindle again. "Pull and twist, pull and twist," he mumbled to himself, keeping a rhythm.

It was just after shearing season, the summer sun high in the sky. Each year, Janus was granted an allowance of wool too coarse to bother selling from his employer. Ordinarily, he'd spin and knit it over the winter, when the dark trapped him indoors for hours on end; but when Remus had asked to learn how to use the drop spindle, Janus had been easily convinced to start early.

Remus had plenty of rhythm, and perhaps more curiosity than what was good for him. What he lacked was patience and finesse.

How Remus was such a good trapper was beyond Logan's understanding.

"It broke again."

"That's because you pull more than you twist, dear. Try it again."

To be fair, Logan had never tried to spin on a drop spindle himself. For all he knew, Remus was doing well for his first time. Perhaps he'd ask to try it himself one of these days.

Remus wound the uneven thread he'd made so far, spun the spindle, and kept going. Janus' soothing hands were wrapped around his waist, his chin hooked on his shoulder. "There you go, thorn of mine."

When the thread broke and the spindle hit the ground again, Remus' shoulders slumped. "You do this to all that wool?"

"Every bit of it," Janus confirmed. "It gets easier with practice."

Remus groaned. "That's gotta take like five-ever!"

Janus chuckled. "It does. But it's not like I lack time over the winter, is it? One more time, dear."

Remus sighed and picked up the broken thread, unwinding it to reattach it to his wool.

"Easy there," Janus coached as the spindle dropped and spun again. "That's it. See, you're getting it." With that; a few seconds worth off error free spinning; Janus snatched the spindle from the air and smiled warmly at Remus. "Well done."

Logan recognized it for what it was: halting the lesson when it was going well, so they might end on a positive note and be more inclined to get back into it at a later date.

Remus grinned. It took so little to make him smile. What a wonder he was, to have such a joyous outlook on the world. "Thanks Janny!" He made use of their proximity by pressing a kiss to Janus' lips. Janus reciprocated, but only for a moment; they'd all come to learn how easily distracted Remus was. At Janus' shove, Remus bounced back to Logan instead and flopped onto the ground with his head in Logan's lap. "Heya!"

Logan couldn't help but smile, his hand automatically finding Remus' hair. "Hello, my enigma." The reason for the nickname was about what one would expect: Logan couldn't tell why Remus could guess so much of his and Janus' life. Of course, he knew the widely accepted theory; the theory about past lives, widely accepted because both Janus and Remus bought into it, which would be two thirds of everyone who'd heard of it. Of course, their sample size was abysmal and every person in it was biased one way or another.

Still, Logan gave it more credit than he used to, partially because the sheer number of details Remus had guessed correctly formed a metaphorical pile that was simply too great to ignore. The kicker had been the "untasseled blanket", as Remus called it. Years ago, Janus had a blanket with tassels along the short edges. When he found out that they were a sensory bother to Logan, Janus had spent days removing the tassels and weaving in the loose ends. Apparently, it wasn't the first time. Remus had recognized it on sight.

Despite it all, Logan wasn't fully convinced, but he was trying to get used to that. Even if Remus was wrong, it didn't necessarily matter. The three of them were happy together. Remus was a useful counterbalance to Janus and Logan's existing relationship. They could see a future together. That was all that mattered.

Of course, the prospect that the enigma would remain unresolved was a fact that Logan was still adjusting to. Proof of past lives would have such wide ranging existential implications; implications that Logan did not find himself qualified to consider. Perhaps in a future life, he'd be a philosopher, highly educated at some academy or another, capable of proving the concept of past lives through logical conjecture alone.

He doubted it.

"I see it now." Remus' voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Hm? See what?"

"The stars in your eyes." Remus' smile faded slowly. "Janus used to always say he could see the stars in your eyes."

Logan let him finish, even though he'd heard it all before. Janus had been saying it periodically for years, and now, from nowhere, Remus had picked it up too. Just another coincidence to add to the metaphorical pile. "He still does."

To accompany them, a moody melody from Janus' split flute drifted into their ears; no doubt Janus was reconnecting with the lands, learning any updates regarding the weather or nearby threats. He was vigilant, a good shepherd to the flock he loved so much. One day, he hoped to buy the herd for himself. His employer had been talking about how there was apparently more money in cattle than sheep, and Janus had been talking about how, if he played his cards right, he might convince her to sell him the flock at just the right time: when he'd saved up enough money.

After that, they would build a home together at the outskirts of town; close enough to town for Logan's employment, close enough to pasture for Janus', and close enough to the forest for Remus'.

Even though his first visit to the forest had been less than ideal, Remus had since managed to negotiate with the faeries to let him rig traps for the wild animals who lived there. He said they seemed to enjoy watching his jury-rigged contraptions and machines. Unfortunately, that didn't stop them from cursing strangers. Only Remus was spared.

Since no one else in town dared to hunt in their curse-infested wood, Remus' game brought in good money; money set aside for their dream of a home and a herd.

"Logan?" Remus slid Logan's hand from his hair to his chest, pausing halfway to press a kiss to his palm. "After this, when we die, do you think we'll find each other again?"

"It's hard to say."

"Yeah, but what do you think?" Remus' fingers worked through Logan's, entwining them together; but not the way boyfriends might ordinarily entwine their fingers when holding hands. When Remus was self-regulating, he'd twist their fingers together the same way one might tangle the fingers of a prisoner before wrapping their hands with ropes to ensure escape would be impossible.

"I think we will," Janus shot in. He'd rounded off his tune, and was now hooking the string of his flute over the loop of his shepherd's crook and taking a seat next to Logan. "We found each other twice. We'll find each other again." Janus had a tendency of saying what Remus needed to hear, as opposed to what was true. If he did it to Logan too, Logan wouldn't know.

Unfortunately, Logan couldn't help but be factual. "It doesn't get statistically significant until the third time."

"So then next time's kinda make or break," Remus said.

"Not necessarily. Three isn't a very large sample size."

Remus took Janus' hand and added his fingers to the tangle. How he managed to manipulate their fingers so tightly without hurting them was a wonder. "I hope we find each other younger next time."

"We'll find each other when the time is right," Janus assured.

"And when the place is right," Remus added.

"Yes." Janus chuckled. "But until then, we have a whole lifetime to enjoy right now."

"More like two thirds of a lifetime," Remus corrected, sparing Logan the trouble.

Janus shrugged. "I'll take however many thirds we're given." He put his free hand over the knot on Remus' chest. "And however many more after that."

----

"Hey, uh- welcome to the apothecary, what do you - holy abyss what-" Said the person behind the counter. When Remus stepped to the side to reveal Janus with Roman in his arms, they immediately made their way around the counter towards a large, flat table, a deep frown on their face. Janus felt a wave of strange foreboding wash over him, but it was quickly ignored, "Get him over here."

Janus was grateful for the quick instructions as maybe-Virgil cleared off the large workbench for Janus to set Roman down carefully onto. He made sure that Roman's head was supported by a towel maybe-Virgil put down as an improvised pillow.

"What happened to him?" Maybe-Virgil demanded. Remus glanced at him with a worried look, "Remus seriously, I'm not kidding around here, why is a stranger bringing Roman to me half dead-"

"Chill out Virgil," Remus said quickly, "It's nothing that can't be fixed with a little salve, right-?"

Despite the playful tone, Janus could see that Remus was shaking, Virgil seemed to pick up on it too, because he gripped the table with both hands and forced himself to take a deep breath. So this was Virgil, which meant Janus was screwed the moment Virgil found out who he was. Which of course was just what Janus needed right now whilst he watched his potentially dying friend lay motionless on a table. 

"I hope so," Virgil said, voice a lot calmer now as he started to work to remove Roman's tunic. The worst of the damage was on Roman's side where Janus had struck him, but his breath hitched when he actually saw the wound. It looked a little like a lightning scar, with burns radiating from the spot Janus' crook had hit. Virgil's gasp was more audible, "But if I'm gonna save him you... you're really gonna have to tell me what happened, this... it's not a normal wound, Remus. It's got magic in it, I can... tell."

"Ask tall and spooky, not me," Remus said, crossing his arms in a display of pettiness that even Janus didn't think he would be capable of as Virgil went to rummage through the shelves to find something. Janus winced. Of course Remus would be petty enough to make Janus explain. 

"I-" He trailed off, not sure what to say. He didn't know if he should announce who he was, if he should hide it, what the consequences of hiding it might be...

"Quickly," Virgil hissed, "We're sort of on the clock here."

"I... I struck him," Janus said, crossing his arms in an attempt not to fold in on himself like his body clearly wanted him to.

"And the burns?" Virgil pressed, seeming to get more and more angry by the second, something tugged at Janus' senses, like something was familar here, "If you hit him how did he get so severely burned he fell unconscious?"

"I..."

"He struck him with magic," Remus hissed, "With his fancy magic staff, sent Roman flying across the room and burned him up."

"I was trying to hit you, and he got in the way," Janus snapped, Remus just shrugged.

"I really don't think that helps your case," He said, gesturing to a now glowering Virgil. He looked almost as though a storm itself had condensed into the presence of one human. For a moment, Janus would've believed you if you said he was standing in the presence of another god. Even though he was sure that wasn't the case, there was still something off about Virgil that he still couldn't quite figure out. He'd have to table that thought for now, though. 

"I knew him hanging around that stupid temple was going to get him in trouble," Virgil hissed, "You're the God he raves about being friends with? I knew you had a weird vibe."

"...Yes," Janus admitted halfheartedly, "Though I'll quite understand if he never visits again after this."

"Oh he will," Virgil said though a clenched jaw as he picked a jar from the shelf and brought it back over to Roman, "No matter how much I'll try to convince him not to, because he's a bone headed idiot who won't prioritise his own safety over anything. He's fucking insufferable when he's got his mind set on something, I should know, he's been trying to get me to visit you for weeks."

"...Right," Janus sighed, "He was very upset that you wouldn't come."

"I'm not sorry," Virgil huffed, "Especially not now that you've done this to him."

"It... it was an accident, truly," Janus said, hoping he sounded genuine.

"I can confirm that, Virge," Remus said, leaning on Roman's table, "He was swinging at me and Ro got in the way."

"I can believe that," Virgil said, though it didn't sound like it helped Janus' case with him at all, "Remus, go grab the bandages from behind the counter please."

"Yessir," Remus said, saluting before hurrying off. Virgil took a deep breath before beginning to apply some kind of salve to the burns, carefully spreading it across the harsh red blisters. 

"Can... I help at all?" Janus asked, wincing when Virgil turned to glare at him again, and Janus quickly shut his mouth. His scars itched. 

A long few minutes passed in awkward silence while Virgil worked and pretty much ignored Janus entirely. Remus reappearing with the bandages broke the silence, but Virgil still didn't acknowledge him until he was done.

"I don't want you anywhere near him," Virgil said to him, before taking a deep breath and sighing, "But I need you to lift up his torso so I can wrap his wound without aggravating it too much, and you're clearly the strongest here. So get over here if you're going to help."

Janus, no matter how undignified it made him feel, jumped at the chance to do something to help Roman. Quickly moving around the table and lifting Roman's torso off of the table with a hand supporting his back so that Virgil could reach where he needed to. Roman wasn't heavy to him, not even after carrying him all the way here, so he was glad he was the one with this job. 

Once the bandages were in place and Roman was laid back down, with a pillow for his head this time, Virgil turned to the two of them.

"Now we have to wait and hope he wakes up," Virgil said. The idea that roman might not wake up made Janus' stomach twist uncomfortably. 

"Is there nothing else we can do?" Janus asked.

"Short of a literal miracle, not really," Virgil said, "If there was, I would've done it already. I'm not having my best friend fucking die because I didn't do something that was easily available to me."

"...Right," Janus took a deep breath, "Of course."

"Unless you have any crazy God magic you can heal him with," Virgil said, Janus huffed.

"If I did, I would've done it already," Janus repeated Virgil's words back at him, trying his hardest not to make his tone too mocking, "And there would've been no need for me to come here and have the displeasure of meeting you."

"Great, I wish you could've fixed this yourself so I never had to see your stupid face," Virgil said, turning away from him. Remus sighed from where he sat next to Roman's table.

"Virge," He said, "Roman's a fucking idiot I know, but you know he wouldn't have been friends with this asshole for as long as he has if he was really that much of a dick."

"I have doubts," Virgil huffed, though he sounded... at least the tiniest bit less angry when he said it. Janus would take it. 

"Look I don't want to give him much of a chance after this either," Remus said, "but he literally begged me to let him help, so, he's got that going for him at least, and... Ro fucking cares about him or whatever, just watch, he'll ask for this idiot first over one of us when he wakes up."

"That can't be true," Janus huffed. There was no way Roman would ask for him over his brother or his good friend when he woke up. Remus shrugged.

"Just watch."

----

They waited for long enough for Roman to wake up that Virgil suggested they move him into the back just in case any customers came in. Janus had helped to lift him yet again, and now he was laid down on a much more comfortable looking sofa instead of the hard wooden table. Virgil left briefly to put a note on the counter asking customers to ring a bell for service and putting the display on the table back together before brewing tea for the three of them. At least the silence that followed was slightly less awkward than before. Even if it most certainly wasn't friendly either. 

Janus still had got an odd feeling from Virgil, but at this point he decided it would be better to leave it until Roman had woken up to confront Virgil about it. One conflict at a time, Janus thought, and Roman waking up was a lot more important to him than whatever was giving him such a bad feeling about Virgil.

The silence wasn't broken for a long time, but eventually the quiet started to feel oppressive. Janus knew he wasn't the only one who felt it, because Virgil spoke up not long after.

"Can I see what you look like?" He asked quietly, head tilted just slightly towards Janus. He sighed like he was upset about saying anything at all, "It's just- you've been wearing that cloak the whole time, and if we're gonna keep sitting here awkwardly I... wanna see your face, at least."

Janus glanced at Remus. They were in the back room now, so no-one would see him from the street. Remus just shrugged. Sighing, Janus reached up and pulled the cloak off, offering it back to Remus before brushing his hair out of his face. Virgil gasped when he saw his face, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. Normally, Janus would be offended, but he still refused to let himself be angry - he just couldn't. Especially with Roman still laying there unconscious. So he pushed the feeling away harshly. Besides, it was a reaction he should be used to by now.

Virgil stood, and Janus forced himself not to flinch as he came closer, ever so slowly approaching Janus and, once he was close enough, reaching to touch his scars. When Janus didn't stop him, Virgil carefully ran his fingers over them before pulling away again.

"Do they hurt?" Virgil asked quietly. It wasn't the question Janus had expected from the man who had been so hostile towards him the entire time they had been in each other's space. Janus was taken aback by it for a moment, and that seemed like long enough for Virgil to realise what he had done and freak out a little, "Oh - I'm sorry, I shouldn't have touched you, fuck, uh-"

"It's fine," Janus said once he'd collected himself, "No, they don't hurt, they're too old to hurt anymore, though I'm not sure why you're asking."

"I just- I'm sorry," Virgil said, taking a deep breath, "I'm- well- I'm a doctor, I just... saw it and thought...."

"That you might be able to help?" Janus asked, tone a little softer now. After all of this, Janus thought out of everyone he'd met recently, Virgil would be the least likely to offer him any kind of help. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Virgil huffed anyway, "But.... if they do hurt, or- or itch or pull or anything like that, I'm sure I could make something for you that would help, that's all, really."

"Thank you," Janus said softly, unable to come up with more words than that.

"You're welcome," Virgil said. Remus cackled from the seat next to Roman.

"It's kinda crazy how you can't hate someone no matter how hard you try, Virgie," Remus laughed, "Even with all of your 'eternal darkness' bullshit, It's fun to see it happen to someone other than me for once."

"Oh shut up, asshole," Virgil said, waving Remus away with a flick of his hand. Janus chuckled, "It's just 'cause Roman cares about him."

As if on cue, Roman shifted, twitching a little before blinking open his eyes with obvious effort only to wince and close them again. Virgil immediately stood to pull the curtains to dim the light in the room. Roman groaned softly.

"Don't try to sit up," Virgil said, voice soft and more gentle than he'd been with either Janus or Remus this entire time, "You're badly hurt and you might've hit your head too."

"Mm," Roman hummed, "What're you doing at the temple Virge..."

"I'm not at the temple," Virgil said, "You're in my apothecary."

"Where's Janus?" Roman asked, and Remus gave him a pointed look. 

"He's here too," Virgil said, much softer as though it was a promise, "So's Remus."

"Is Remus okay?" Roman asked, and Janus immediately felt like he wanted to let himself dematerialise and never show face in front of mortals ever again. Of course Roman's worry was that his brother wasn't okay. Janus had been trying to attack him after all. For all Roman knew, Janus had thrown him to the side and gone on to keep attacking Remus. 

"Fit as a fiddle," Remus announced, carefully taking and squeezing Roman's hand, "And not a scratch on me, thanks to you - which was stupid, by the way, never throw yourself in front of a God for me again."

"A... a God...?" Roman mumbled, and Janus could've sworn his heart broke. Did... Roman not remember him.

"Yeah, silly," Remus huffed, "You threw yourself in front of me when Janus went to attack me, remember?"

It took Roman a second, but the dawning realisation eventually crossed his face. 

"Is- where is he?" Roman asked, "Is- you said he's here in the apothecary?"

"I wish he wasn't," Virgil said. Janus winced. 

"Yeah, he's here," Remus said, "Janus get your ass over here right now and stop looking like a pitiful little baby in the corner."

"Janus?" Roman asked, squinting as he looked around. With a whole lot of hesitance, Janus made his way over to join the other two next to Roman. He seemed to relax on seeing him. "Never thought I'd see you outside of the temple, I'll be honest..."

"I didn't think I'd leave, either," Janus admitted. It... wasn't exactly what Janus had expected Roman to say, but at least he'd given him something to talk about.

"If I'd of known I would've just brought you here on my own," Roman huffed, "Instead of trying to get Virgil to come to you."

"I don't think I would've gone," Janus admitted, trying to make the words sound normal as they came out of his mouth, "I'm... I'm so sorry, Roman."

"I know," Roman said.

"How could you know? You've been unconscious," Janus pointed out with a frown, Remus laughed, though he and Virgil had backed off a little to give the two of them space.

"Because I know you," Roman said softly reaching out for him, "and I know you would never hurt me on purpose."

"But I tried to hurt your brother," Janus pointed out weakly.

"I know," Roman said, "And you definitely should be sorry for that."

"Well I am," Janus said, "I really am, I let emotions get the better of me, I'll be better in the future, I swear to you."

"I hope you don't mean you're going to start repressing them again," Roman huffed, "'Cause that wouldn't help, you know that, right?"

"I..." Janus trailed off, because what was he supposed to say to that? "I don't... really know what I'm supposed to do now."

"Well Roman's right," Virgil said with a sigh as though admitting such a thing was difficult for him, "Repressing your feelings is just gonna cause shit like this to happen again."

"Unfortunately repressing my feelings is... sort of all I know how to do," Janus pointed out.

"Well maybe we can help! Right Ro?" Remus said with a grin.

"Mhm," Roman nodded, trying to push himself up a little. Janus quickly moved to help him, because really it was the least he could do after what he'd done to him in the first place, "You've already come so far since I met you, Janus, it's not... getting better isn't a set of stairs, it's like- hills and valleys. This was a pretty deep valley, sure, but there's a hill on the other side."

"I could've killed you," Janus near whispered. Roman smiled softly and reached for him. After a moment's hesitation, Janus took Roman's hands in his.

"You could have," Roman nodded, "And that's a risk I took when I decided to make friends with a God. And Janus... the fact that you came into the village, dealt with Virgil and Remus and are still holding my hand right now says a lot more about how you feel than what happened back at the temple. That was bad, and my side really fucking hurts right now, and yeah I would've preferred it didn't happen at all, but it's okay. You're okay."

"I'm okay?" Janus laughed bitterly, "I'm not exactly the important one here-"

Roman huffed, "Hey, you're not... you're not the only one at fault, I worried something like this would happen - I shouldn't have brought Remus to meet you."

"Awee! And miss out on this bonding experience?" Remus asked. "Never!"

"One hell of a bonding experience," Virgil huffed. Glancing back at Janus, "You guys know you can go now, right?"

"Go?" Janus asked, "When Roman isn't healed yet?"

"Yeah, go," Virgil huffed, "I tolerated you here when Roman was unconscious, but I'll be completely frank I don't want the Guardian of Evil in my house."

"Why not?" Janus asked, staring Virgil down, "I understand you dislike me, and I think you have a perfectly good explanation for it, but... something isn't adding up."

"Huh?" Roman asked, shifting so that he could use the sofa as a backrest, "What's... going on?"

"Nothing," Virgil hissed.

"I've been getting a weird feeling from you since the moment I walked in here," Janus said, "I would like an explanation."

"Well you won't be getting one," Virgil said, turning away. 

Roman took a deep breath, putting his hand on Janus' arm when he went to speak again.

"Leave it," He said softly, "I'll be fine here, I trust Virgil, okay?"

Janus was aware that he had to make a choice here. He had to trust Roman and leave, or he had to protest and stay - possibly resulting in another fight. The odd feeling Virgil was giving him could easily be nothing, but it could also be dangerous, and he didn't really want to leave him with Virgil if he was. But... this whole thing had started because he hadn't stopped when Roman told him to. So... maybe he should listen for once.

"Alright," Janus said, letting go of a breath, "We'll go."

"Thank you," Virgil said, looking almost defeated, "I'll make sure Roman's okay, promise."

Janus nodded, denying the cloak when Remus offered it and simply letting himself disappear back into his non-corporeal form. For a moment he stayed and watched, before he found Virgil glaring straight at him.

Could Virgil see him? Even in this form? 

Janus hadn't come across anything that could do that before.

Well. 

Anything that was still around today, at least.

----

| <- Previous Part | Next Part -> |

----

"So what's the verdict, specs?"

Logan adjusted his glasses. "I'm seeing no signs of infection and no signs of a curse, though I'm not convinced there simply isn't one."

Logan was more at ease than Remus had seen him in a hundred years. To be fair, he'd spent the bulk of those hundred years in orbit. Still, that evening at the Fae Hideaway had really loosened that stick up Logan's butt. Now, laying down in Logan's clinic, with his dearest nerd poking and prodding the scratch on his head, it felt almost like old times.

"So it's like a sneaky curse?" Remus responded. "Hiding in the shadows just like that squirrel."

"Maybe. It wouldn't be the first time a curse takes its time to make itself known. Then again, injuries without curses have certainly also occurred before, even in our curse-ridden forest."

"That's what happened to Janus, right?"

Logan froze. "He told you?"

"Yeah."

Logan went back to picking at Remus' temple, where a rabid squirrel had managed to take a chunk out of him. Neither of them had heard of a squirrel with fangs before today.

"He doesn't usually like talking about it," Logan noted.

"Cause of the lamb?"

"That's not for me to say," Logan deflected. "That sounds like Janus' business."

"Okay."

Logan had always been like this: staying as much out of other people's beeswax as possible.

"D'you think Janus and I will match?"

"Hm?"

"My gnarly scar. His gnarly scar." Remus smiled, and Logan couldn't help but follow suit.

"Your injury is much smaller."

"Is it gonna make me look hot and badass?"

Logan's smile widened. "I'll let Janus be the judge of that."

"No, I wanna hear your take."

Logan took a long moment to respond as he prepared the first suture. "Give it another week or two, and we'll see. Hold still now." A poke, and then another poke, and Remus felt his skin being pulled taught, all without budging. "Hm. Your pain tolerance is high."

"I just feel it differently. It's never made me flinch."

"Well, now you're deliberately trying to sound 'badass', as it were," Logan accused.

"No, it's true!"

"I can see that. Hold still."

Remus hadn't even noticed that he'd tried to sit up in his excitement. Now, he pushed himself back down. "Sorry, doc."

"Medic. I'm not a doctor." Logan was back to work immediately.

"Med doesn't have the same ring to it. And I can't call you dic. Can I?"

Logan's frown was amused. "You seem creative enough. I'm sure you'll think of something more fitting to call me than 'dick'."

"Logie. Lolo," Remus mused. "Starlight." Janus had always said he saw the stars in Logan's eyes. Remus hadn't. Only sometimes, when the lighting was just right. "So what's the difference anyway? Between a doctor and a medic?"

"A doctor is trained at an academy or university. I'm not."

Remus compared and contrasted that with the scholar he remembered. "Why not?"

"My mothers taught me everything I'd need."

"Where are they now?"

"At home. In Bloomwood Village."

"So how come you're here?"

"As opposed to Bloomwood?"

"Yeah."

"I heard Brightfield needed a new medic. And Bloomwood already had all the healers it needed, between all my mothers."

Remus suddenly imagined a flock of them. A flock of mothers. "Do you go visit?"

"I try to visit them each summer."

"That's nice." Remus felt another tug. A strange feeling. Not unwelcome though.

"What about you? Do you have someone waiting for you?"

"My sister. Penelope. But she and her husband can run the farm fine without me. I just wanted to- um." Remus cut himself off. Logan shot him a look and waited for him to go on. He relented easily. "I wanted to see the tower again. And when I heard about Thornfall, I figured I might as well make a detour, y'know?"

"I see."

"She won't expect me back until another week or so."

"Do you think you'll go back when the time comes?"

"I guess not. Guess I should go back and explain what happened. Then I should find some work around here."

"Well, I won't let you look for work or travel home until your head is healed. I'd like you under my supervision for at least a day or two."

"Do I get to come check on Olivia's shedding and boils?"

Logan let himself smile again. "Alright, but only if she agrees to it."

"Deal."

They fell quiet for a while as Logan did up his face and layered it with some sort of paste and then some leaves picked off a house plant. "There," Logan says as he finished bandaging it. "Do I have to remind you to stay out of the forest?"

"I think Scuzzy Kizoozle did that for ya."

"Scuzzy what now?"

"Scuzzy Kizoozle." Remus nodded toward the dead squirrel he'd dumped by the door. She'd gotten a chunk out of him, but he'd gotten her back.

"Scuzzy Kizoozle," Logan echoed. "I've never heard of that."

"Me neither! But if I discovered a species of homicidal squirrels, I get to name em, right?"

Logan chuckled. "I suppose so."

Remus sat up and swung his legs off the side of the table, eyeing Logan. "You know, I think you like me more than you admit. Even to yourself."

"That's preposterous," Logan responded, but he was a little too expressionless for Remus to believe him. No disdain. No frowns. That meant they were halfway to joy already!

"I think you feel it. You just won't say it."

"Feel what, exactly?"

He felt Logan grow standoffish again, but couldn't stop himself. "Janus says 'connection'."

"Yes, well, Janus and I see the world a little differently."

"I know. You said you see the effects of magic at least once a month when some poor sucker stumbles into the Fae Hideaway with a curse up their ass, but you're only almost right."

Logan had in fact said something to that effect that night at the inn, even if he'd phrased it differently. "Oh?"

"Yeah. That's not magic. It's fae talent."

"Tomato, solanum lycopersicum."

"No, but it's not the same thing!" Remus hopped to the floor with a heavy thud. LFae have magic in them, but not all of them use magic like we do!"

"Well, our fae use magic to curse," Logan persisted.

"No! Or, I mean, maybe. But they don't have to be mages like we are to do it. Think of it this way." Remus picked up a pencil and tossed it to Logan, who barely caught it. "You can throw that pencil, right? You can just do that. It takes no magic. You just do it if you want to."

Logan narrowed his eyes, growing interested. Intrigued. Invested. "Yes?"

"Yeah, well, some fae can just cast curses. They can just do it! No magic needed!"

"How do you know this?"

"Janus. He was fae." Was Remus sure about his conclusion. No. Did he have reason to think it after spending a lifetime with fae Janus? Yes. That was reason enough for him. And maybe if Logan didn't think of magic as this horrible thing that hurts and kills people all the time, maybe he'd be more willing to think that magic brought them back together.

Logan took a deep breath. "That's what we call circular reasoning. It's a faulty use of logic. But you're welcome to believe it. I'll respect it."

The trio continued their path to the main attraction, occasionally getting sidetracked by other rides. Remus thought his friends were walking impossibly slow, but he wouldn't say it. He wanted them to have a great day too. His grand finale could wait.

At some point, they stopped for lunch. That is to say they found a bench to share and ate the granola bars Janus had sneaked in.

The sun warmed them unlike the cold February air. Remus sat next to Janus, almost sitting on top him, trying to steal his warmth. Janus, in turn, slid away, which trapped Logan between him and the arm of the bench.

It was cozy, squishing his crushes into a bench so they couldn't leave.

"Remus, while this is delightful, could you please move over?" Janus pushed against Remus' side. Remus pushed right back.

"The other direction!" Janus shoved him. Remus dramatically fell off the bench.

"Oh! To be betrayed by my best friend! How dare such a tragedy occur!" He covered his eyes.

"Please get off the ground. It's dirty." Logan proffered his hand. Remus accepted it, standing up. If his heart beat faster, he wouldn't say, not yet.

They finished their snack and headed off.

Eventually, the trio reached the end of the path, marked by a tall red roller coaster, temporarily named "Heartstopper."

Remus sprinted to join the line, though the park was so empty that he didn't have to run. The others trailed him.

He hoped to have front row seats, the perfect place to execute his plan. Thankfully, the lack of a line meant his plan would go quite smoothly on that front.

They sat in the cart, a giant unit of seats in rows. Remus was in the middle with Janus on his right and Logan on his left. The conductor came around to check their harnesses before going back to the control booth to start the ride.

The cart climbed the metal track, higher and higher. The excitement sent electricity through Remus' body. He had one chance to get this right, 3 seconds of baited breath to confess. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Janus, smiling nervously, and Logan, his eyes closed to face the wind. Remus struggled against the restraints, taking their hands in his as they crested at the top.

The ride froze, dangling them 300 feet in the air.

"Logan, Janus, I love you!"

Logan had just enough time to say "Wha-" before they plummeted, g-forces pushing against their bodies. The wind was so loud that anything said was drowned out, though no one said anything, adrenaline silencing any thoughts.