#bhoh

A lot changed very quickly for everyone once the sanctuary opened. Logan’s days looked different now - dramatically so - but he was still the man he had always been. And that man had always functioned best on a schedule. 

He woke before the sanctuary did. Despite the busy halls and near constant murmur of activity that it held throughout the day, the building was often still at this hour. Logan might have been the earliest riser on the premises - if not for Roman. 

Most mornings, he woke up to find Roman asleep beside him. When he did, Logan could usually tell from Roman’s still damp hair that he’d slipped back into bed after a workout and a shower. Their days were full, and early morning was often the only time Roman could fit in his own personal exercise.

That wasn’t to say he slowed down afterward, Roman seemed to spend most of his day in motion. He could often be found play-chasing the kids, leading exercises for residents who wanted them - sometimes power-related and sometimes not, or simply checking in everywhere to make sure everyone was doing well.

This morning, Roman was missing. He must have gotten pulled away by something, but Logan would find him later. For now, back to that structure that helped him feel grounded. 

First, he checked the schedule for the classrooms for the day - double checking who was teaching where and whether there was anywhere he needed to be at any given point to assist or teach. They didn’t offer the kind of high-level chemistry courses he’d once taught at the university, though he was considering resuming that work after taking a few semesters off to reevaluate what kind of class load he could comfortably manage. Still, there was plenty he could provide here. Once he’d confirmed where he needed to be, he headed to the nearest kitchen to start the coffee pots and kettles. He poured himself a mug to begin his day with and left the rest warming for everyone else as they woke. Once he had his coffee in hand, he usually took a walk. He wasn’t Roman, but he liked to get at least a little exercise in, and most days a good walk suited him just fine - especially given how often he found himself pulled into all manner of other things. By the time he’d finished his rounds through the halls and along the perimeter, Patton and Marq would already have breakfast underway. 

They were both quite talented cooks and had actually taught each other a lot. Theirs might not have been the strangest new friendship to come out of the sanctuary, but it was close. 

Breakfast was also when Logan typically checked in with Janus, who’d give him the updates on any technical or mechanical issues that had occurred since the previous morning. Janus monitored the security system and power readouts, responding to urgent matters as they arose and saving the rest for breakfast with Logan. From there, Logan would either handle it himself, pass it along to whoever could handle it, or bring it to Roman so they could handle it together.

Their debriefing lasted either until Janus had told Logan everything he wanted him to know, or until Remy showed up - whichever came first. That was usually the point at which Janus lost the ability to focus on technical things, largely because Remy made it his personal mission to make sure Janus didn’t overwork himself. Or, as he put it, “All work and no play dulls his babes’ shine.” 

Those two would leave breakfast together, lingering in the same few spots around the sanctuary. They made a point of staying visible, available. Everyone who came to live there was set up with a phone by Janus - on Roman’s dime, obviously - and given a short list of numbers, no matter who they were. 

Emile’s and Patton’s, for emotional support - whether someone needed thoughtful guidance or simply a friend who’d listen. 

Logan’s, Roman’s, and Simone’s, for varying levels and intensities of mentorship. It was understood that Logan was the one people went to when they wanted things explained clearly and logically, when they needed help thinking through a problem. Roman, on the other hand, was the more approachable and energetic option. Approachable, at least, once people adjusted to seeing him just as Roman rather than a celebrity - which normally didn’t take longer than a week or two. He made advice feel less like an instruction and more like encouragement. Simone was the most direct of the three, blunt in a way that cut through hesitation without being unkind. She also offered a different perspective, having grown up far removed from Roman’s high-profile world and nearly as distant from Logan’s more conventional one. For some residents, her presence alone - an adult woman who was also a mutant - made reaching out to her feel safer.

Most of the residents - especially those of college age and younger - knew that the three of them functioned as parental figures to anyone who needed one. Very few people ever said it to any of their faces.

And then there were the final two numbers on the short list: Janus’s and Remy’s. 

Janus’s official reason for sharing his was for tech support. Remy claimed everyone needed his number so he was never left out of any house drama. But it was quietly understood that the two of them were always there for anyone struggling with confidence - especially when it had to do with physical mutations. 

Virgil was actually open to giving anyone his number if they asked for it - he just preferred they get it directly from him so he knew exactly who had it. It made him feel a bit better about his contact information being out there. Plenty of people did have it, though. The anxious young man had actually started teaching a regular group of students.

He insisted it wasn’t a class. He referred to it more as a club, one he only technically headed. It had started with him helping out a few new friends with breathing exercises that worked for him when his anxiety spiked, and had grown through word of mouth into something much larger. Now he was “hosting club meetings,” where he helped “some pals” with all sorts of protective and defensive techniques. 

Patton was his teaching assistant - or, as Virgil insisted, “second club leader” - and together they were an enormous help to anyone who attended.

Virgil could deny it was a class all he wanted. Logan still had him on the official classroom rotation. Which, as far as Logan was concerned, made it a class.

Logan usually crossed paths with Emile at least once during the day, often just before or after lunch. He was usually in his office by then, and he’d started keeping appointments with some residents. Early on, Logan and Roman had made a point of telling him he didn’t have to work at the sanctuary. This could be his home. It didn't need to also be his job. 

Emile had assured them he understood. He’d also explained that this was simply who he was. Most of the people he spoke with regularly weren’t really like patients. Some felt like friends, others like colleagues. Even those who mirrored the students he’d worked with in the past only ever saw him in that capacity during defined appointment times. Emile was careful about his boundaries - no one dropped in unannounced while he was eating lunch or watching his cartoons. When he flipped the sign on his office door, he wasn’t Dr. Picani anymore. He was just Emile. And everyone respected that.

Logan was walking away from where he tended to eat breakfast, having lingered a bit longer than he did on some days. He’d managed to sit with both Mr. Weaver - whom he was still consciously trying to remember to call Maurice - and Lewis. They’d ended up discussing a scientific journal Lewis had mentioned, one Logan was already looking forward to tracking down later for further study. 

As he moved down the hall, he caught a familiar sound: soft, rapid steps, moving beneath the floor.

Remus still preferred to travel by his tunnel network, surfacing whenever and wherever he pleased - often just to get a rise out of Roman. Logan could always hear when he was nearby, noting the subtle change in sound as he prepared to pop up and startle someone. He wasn’t sure how Roman continued to be surprised almost every time. Roman insisted Logan’s hearing had improved after the power-swap incident, but Logan hadn’t noticed anything himself.

The twins had settled quickly into a dynamic Logan recognized as distinctly sibling-like. He suspected they were subconsciously making up for lost teenage years through the sheer immaturity of their antics. Logan had tried, more than once, to tell Roman that Remus favored certain routes - that he tended to surprise him in the same places. It had not seemed to help.

One tunnel in particular was used far more often than the rest. 

Logan had noticed that the most traveled route led directly to Emile's office. Whether or not Roman had noticed as well was unclear. Logan had long since decided it was not going to be him who shared that particular observation with his fiancé, and that decision had not changed.

As he passed the therapist’s door, he could hear Remus and Emile talking and laughing, the warm sound drifting out into the hall. He really didn’t understand it. 

Then again, most people didn’t understand him and Roman either. 

So, who was he to judge?

Seeing as Emile was clearly preoccupied, Logan continued down the hall and ducked into the library. He wasn’t expected to be anywhere just then, and he was always reachable if that changed.

He hadn’t actually realized he’d selected a book - or sat down to read it - until a little head popped up beside the armchair he had apparently occupied. 

“Whatcha readin’?” Ruby asked.

Logan glanced down at the cover of the book in his hands, then back at her. “It’s called Adaptive Biochemistry Under Extreme Conditions.” “Oh.” She considered that for a moment, resting her elbows on the arm of the chair and propping her chin in her hands. “What’s it about?”

“How different people’s bodies can learn to protect themselves, even when things go very wrong.” Logan explained.

“Ohh.” Ruby nodded solemnly. “That sounds good. I hope they’re all okay in the end.” She paused. “Are there pictures?” 

Logan huffed softly. “...Not fun ones.” 

“Why would they put pictures if they aren’t fun?” “Sometimes it’s important to see things even when they aren’t good.” Logan said. “So we can learn what things can look like when they’re bad.” “...I guess that makes sense.” Ruby decided. “I don’t want to see them though. Can you tell me how it ends later?” “Of course.” Logan nodded. He could practically hear Roman in his head - and you thought you didn’t know how to talk to kids. “Thanks!” Ruby beamed up at him, then seemed to remember what she’d come looking for in the first place. “...Did Papa figure out the papers you needed?” “I don’t know yet.” Logan admitted. “But I can go ask him. Is it okay if I let you know at lunchtime?” “Yeah! Thanks, Dad!” 

She pushed herself up with her hands, using the borrowed height to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you at lunchtime!” 

“...See you soon, Ruby.” 

She scampered off, and Logan had to take a moment to center himself - setting the book aside and removing his glasses to rub his eyes.

First of all, she really was getting better at using her powers. Remy would never admit it outright, but Logan knew he’d been working with residents whose abilities were constantly on, helping them learn to dial things back or even fully pause them for brief periods. Ruby had kissed Logan on the cheek without incident. And even when she didn’t manage it perfectly, something so brief would never be worth mentioning. It was no worse than a static shock, and Logan would never dream of discouraging something as simple and sweet as giving her dad a kiss on the cheek because it hurt for half of a second.

And as far as that other thing...

Logan had seen it coming more quickly than Roman had - at least logically. Ruby had wrapped Roman around her finger from the first time he picked her up and held her, so by that metric, Roman had probably been ahead of Logan emotionally. They’d just approached the inevitability from opposite directions.

It had been Mr. Weaver who had accidentally put the idea in Ruby’s head. Or, at least the words. It became clear early on that Simone, her Seesee, felt like a big sister to her. But Roman and Logan were the ones who took care of her. Did her hair. Taught her things outside of a classroom. Carried her around. Blew on her food when it was too hot.

So when her teacher had casually asked her if she wanted to go show her dads her project, it all just clicked. 

It turned out that Maurice had genuinely assumed she was Roman’s daughter. Knowing that Roman and Logan were engaged, he’d made a reasonable guess. And that was that.

Calling Roman Roro had turned into Papa. Dad had honestly come out of nowhere. 

And what, exactly, was Logan supposed to do about that? Tell her no? Obviously not.

He wasn’t used to it yet. But he also wasn’t upset about it either. It felt… Complicated. But not unwanted. Emotions really weren’t his thing, but he’d get there.

So for now… He supposed he’d get up and go ask Roman about that paperwork. 

Name change paperwork. Well. Adoption paperwork. 

Ruby didn’t really understand yet that deciding they were her dads didn’t literally make them her dads. That part was complicated. But she did understand paperwork -  mostly. They’d explained that if she wanted to change her name, they needed some papers. She knew she wanted that.

They’d asked her if she wanted to change her last name to match theirs, explaining that once they were married, they’d both have the same one. She’d looked at them in genuine confusion and asked what they meant - because she already had. 

The explanation that followed had been… Something. Something that certainly made perfect sense to a six-year-old.

Ruby had seen Roman and his powers on television. Since she was a little shiny too, she’d decided she wanted a name like his. But with her flaming red eyes and hair, she determined she was much more like a ruby than a diamond. She’d never liked her given name, so she’d picked Ruby as her “fun super name.” 

And then, at some point, she’d just never stopped using it. 

Roman had nearly cried on the spot. 

It was undeniably precious - and something that made Roman a little misty-eyed if he thought about it for a bit too long - but it had also opened several cans of worms for Logan. 

They didn’t technically have documentation for Ruby. And given the nature of mutants being born to parents who couldn’t - or wouldn’t - care for them, Logan had to assume they’d eventually take in children even younger than she was. Children who would arrive with even less information, if any at all. 

Could they register the sanctuary as a safe surrender site? Could it legally be classified as a foster facility? Could it be both? What other options were there to make sure the people who came into their care were protected? 

Logan had no intention of letting anyone under his watch become a target.

That was part of what Roman was working on now, diving into research with help from his myriad of contacts. There were a lot of layers. 

Logan stepped into Roman’s office and found his fiancé sitting behind his desk, focused intently on his computer. 

“Roman, did you finish the-” Logan stopped short.

Roman’s eyes widened the instant he registered Logan’s presence, hands scrambling to minimize whatever was open on his screen. 

Logan crossed his arms. “Roman. What have you been doing this morning?”

“Um. Nothing?” Roman tried, then immediately abandoned that path. “I mean - a lot. A lot of things. I’ve been very busy. With very important work. Yes.”

Logan sighed, pushing up his glasses as he pinched his nose in mock frustration. “You’re wedding planning, aren’t you?” Roman just stared at him, his brown eyes wide and wholly guileless. 

“Roman.” “...Okay, but hear me out.” Roman said quickly. “I could make us gemstone goblets. I could probably even make them half ruby and half sapphire - or maybe do one for the stem and one for the bowl. Lo, it would be gorgeous. When we do the toast, they’ll refract the light perfectly. And then if ours are half-and-half, then I could make special ones for the wedding party and they’d all be different! So Patton’s could be sapphire and Ruby’s could be - well, ruby. But still different from our’s!” 

“...Why does Ruby need a toasting goblet?” Logan asked. “I mean, I know she can’t toast champagne.” Roman said, immediately defensive. “But she’s the flower girl. She’s still part of the wedding party. I don’t want her to be left out.” 

Logan had to stop himself from responding. Roman was sidetracking him. 

He was far too good at this.

Logan sighed. “I came to ask you about the paperwork for Ruby. But it seems like you’ve been procrastinating.” “Oh, that?” Roman seemed genuinely surprised. “No, I did that hours ago. I just need you to sign it too.” He reached into the wire tray on his desk, picked up a few sheets, and held them out to Logan.

Logan raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer, taking the papers and skimming through them. “I thought this wouldn’t be possible until we were married.” “I mean, it normally wouldn’t be.” Roman admitted. “But it’s honestly not that uncommon in my neck of the woods. My dad got me one of his friend's numbers so I could go through their lawyer.” He paused. “...I still haven’t told him exactly why I needed the contact, but we’ll get there.” 

Logan hummed, reading carefully. A few minutes passed before he looked back up. “So, what were you procrastinating on? Research about the grounds?” “I wasn’t procrastinating.” Roman protested. “I just had that really good idea about the goblets, which innocently distracted me from coming to find you and showing you this email I got back.” “Right.” Logan said, shaking his head fondly. “What’s this email, then?” 

“Come over here.” Roman said, waving him around the desk. “I’ll just show you.” 

They stood there for a moment, Logan leaning over Roman’s shoulder to look at the screen as he pulled up the email.

It was only a few seconds later that they heard - and felt - a distant, rumbling boom from somewhere out on the grounds. 

Rather than looking surprised, Logan just stood up straight and stretched his arms with a sigh. “...You just had to open a superpower school.” Roman stood as well, smiling cheekily. “Hey. You let me.” “I know.” They headed for the door, Roman pausing at the last second to take Logan’s hand and gently pull him to a stop. Logan just raised an eyebrow, questioning, but didn’t pull away.

“Hey.” Roman began, softly. “Thanks again for doing this with me. I know I say it a lot, but…” He laced their fingers together, smiling fondly. “You know. I love you, Logan.” “I love you too, Roman.” Logan returned the smile, squeezing his hand. He tugged Roman in just long enough to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Now we should really go make sure everything’s still intact.” “Right, right.” Roman agreed. “Let’s go.”  

Logan couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, breathless and almost manic with exasperation. Of all the things Roman could have asked after worrying him half to death, whether or not he’d done well wouldn't have made Logan’s first fifty guesses. “Too well, you-” He cut himself off, huffing softly, the half reprimand clearly defensive. “You self-sacrificing moron.” Roman coughed again, this one closer to an actual laugh as his throat cleared. “Sounds like me.” 

It was clear to everyone present that the only thing keeping Logan from throwing himself onto Roman and wrapping him in a hug was the fact that they didn’t know just how badly Roman was injured. He huffed, wiping an eye, ignoring the emotion coursing through him now that his boyfriend was finally awake. “...It does.” He quietly agreed. “It’s exactly like you. Reckless. And brave. And so incredibly stupid.”

Roman slipped his other hand free from beneath the blanket so he could enclose one of Logan’s in both of his. His boyfriend wasn’t the emotional type - he’d made sure everyone in his life knew that, time and time again. But Roman could see it anyway. How afraid he’d been. How hard he was clearly fighting not to cry at this very moment. “...I know. I’m sorry, Logan. I…” He wanted to promise him he’d never do anything like that again. But they both knew he couldn’t. Not honestly.

Logan sniffed, tilting his head back as if that might keep the tears from falling. “I know. I…” He huffed. “If you could just… Try not to become a cautionary tale in the future, I’d greatly appreciate it.” 

Roman smiled, lifting Logan’s hand and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. “I promise.” 

Logan finally looked back at him, his gaze saying far more than he was willing to put into words right now. Which was a little odd, actually. He usually didn’t have so much of a problem opening up to him, not when they were alone. The confusion must have shown on Roman’s face, because Logan flicked his eyes deeper into the room - prompting Roman to turn his head to see what was on the other side of him.

Remus. Remus was there, in the other bed in this hospital room. He was wearing a hospital gown, an IV trailing to his arm, but he was sitting upright, facing Roman with his legs dangling off the side of his bed.

The twins just stared at each other, neither quite knowing where to begin. How to start what would honestly be an insane conversation to have casually. In the end, Roman just went for it. 

“...Are you okay?” 

Remus’s first instinct was to roll his eyes. Who would ask that in this situation? Lying there with gash across his chest that spanned more than a foot, barely having regained consciousness - but still worrying about someone else who was, by all appearances, still physically intact. 

But he didn’t. Instead, a dozen different responses flashed through his mind. On the one hand, he could blow it off. On the other hand, he could answer honestly, sincerely. Neither felt quite right. 

So he lifted a hand to the collar of his hospital gown, tugging it aside just enough to reveal his unmarked collarbone. “...I don’t know, you hit me pretty hard. My chest might bruise.” 

A beat of silence followed - long enough that Remus wondered if his attempt to avoid anything too heartfelt had missed the mark entirely. Logan seemed frozen.

Then Roman really laughed, bringing a hand to his mouth to try and contain it. “...Sorry?” 

Remus smiled, the corners of mouth lifting high enough to hide behind his moustache. “Good. Apology accepted.” He crossed his arms, nodding once with some finality. He faltered a little after that, but only slightly. The elephant in the room was enormous and might as well have been flashing a rainbow of colors and dancing the hula, but Remus was still himself. He didn’t really do awkward. “Anyway, uh, are you feeling alright?” 

Roman turned and glanced down at his body, still mostly covered by the sheet. “I can’t feel anything in a lot of places.” He rested one hand lightly against the center of his upper chest, just below his collarbones. “Especially from about here down. So… Yes? But I have to imagine that means I’m pretty banged up.” Alarm spiked immediately - Logan stiffened, even Remus felt his stomach drop, both leaping to the worst conclusion immediately. But Roman kept talking. “I’m sure once the diamond finishes doing its thing though, I'll be alright enough.” He shrugged. “...Fucking hell.” Remus muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “I thought you were saying you busted your spine.”

Logan let out a long suffering sigh. “I’d say you’ll get used to that… But I don’t deal in falsehoods.” 

Roman just looked between the two of them, visibly confused. “What? I can’t feel the diamond spots, that’s kind of the whole point.”

Thankfully, especially for Logan and Remus, the door to the room opened and a nurse stepped inside. Likely for the same reason she’d come in earlier - one of the twins’ heart monitors. She looked visibly relieved to see Roman awake, though she still shot Remus a chastising look for sitting up again and still not resting. 

Logan and Remus moved back, returning to their respective spots to give the nurse - and a doctor she quickly fetched - room to look Roman over. The popstar’s eyes went wide when he was finally shown the state of his chest. He had no idea that something like that could happen - especially that deeply - and the fact that he still couldn’t feel it certainly didn’t help his shock.

Thankfully, it was still clearly healing as time passed, the gash now smaller than it had been at any point thus far - even if it still looked incredibly concerning. 

There wasn’t much the hospital staff could actually do about the parts of him that hadn’t faded back to plain skin yet. But they still checked him over thoroughly regardless. Before leaving, they made a particular point of asking that someone actually be notified if anything changed with either of the admitted men - it would be vastly preferable to be told, rather than alerted by a heart monitor for a third time.

Once the three of them were alone again, Logan pulled out his phone and began typing, thumbs flying across the screen. Roman gave him a moment to make some progress with whatever he was doing before curiosity won out.

“Who ya texting?” He asked.

“Everyone, essentially.” Logan didn’t look up as he spoke. “Several people specifically asked to be updated on both of your conditions.” His thumbs never slowed. “Hospital security has also informed me that they’ve turned away the press multiple times, as well as several individuals who we don’t recognize who have been trying to locate you. So I will be sending along a list of who’s permitted to come visit shortly.” 

Roman nodded. “Thank you for taking care of all that, Lo.” He paused, then added. “...Where is everyone anyway? Back at home?” “Yes.” Logan paused for just a fraction of a second before continuing. “Patton, in particular, wanted to be here when you woke up. The others convinced him it would be better for him to wait until I confirmed you were ready for visitors.” 

Roman frowned, knowing there was something Logan wasn’t saying. “...Was I hurting him again?” “No, no.” Logan waved that concern away immediately - but then he paused, exhaled, and continued. “…I was.” 

Roman hadn’t been expecting that to be the reason that Logan had omitted a detail. Surprise hit first, but it made sense. He knew, deep down, that he was one of the very few things capable of cracking Logan’s composure like that. 

He still didn’t know what to say. In the end, he settled for the truth. “...I’m sorry, Lo.” 

“Don’t be.” Logan shook his head, pointedly looking at his phone and not his boyfriend. “That wasn’t your fault.” 

Remus huffed, dragging the attention back to his side of the room. “If it helps, this is objectively my fault. So, you can both stop apologizing to each other already.” 

Roman immediately started to respond - but this time, it was Logan who actually laughed. 

The sound surprised all of them, Logan himself included, the tension breaking in a way that felt almost startling coming from the serious man. Regardless, the release was more than welcome.

Roman smiled, soft and fond, simply glad to see that Logan found a little lightness after all he’d been shouldering. Glancing over, he saw that Remus was smiling too. Roman wasn’t sure if his twin truly understood how large a feat it was to make Logan truly laugh, but maybe he’d tell him eventually. 

It felt lighter in the room after that, at least for a little while. Logan was still tapping away on his phone, apparently handling more things than Roman realized, though that wasn’t honestly unusual.

It wasn’t much later that their nurse reentered the room, looking noticeably more nervous than she had before. Roman recognized the expression on her face immediately, he’d seen it more times than he could count. 

Starstruck. Which struck him as odd. She’d been in here already and hadn’t seemed shy or intimidated in the slightest. 

“Um, excuse me? Mr. Sterling?” She began softly. “Uh, yes?” Roman responded, lifting an eyebrow. 

“There’s, uh… Someone here to see you, if that’s alright?” Her head dipped down enough that she was peering at him from beneath her eyelashes.

Logan raised an eyebrow as well, but it was much more out of confusion - how could anyone he’d approved to visit already be here?

“Oh, uh. Who is it?” The popstar asked. 

“It’s- it’s your father.” She said, nearly squeaking. “K-Kingston Sterling.” 

Ah. Now that would certainly explain that.

Roman had been making music for nearly fifteen years now, his popularity and prestige having grown steadily alongside him - but his Oscar-winning father had been a staple of the A-list since long before Roman had even been born. The number of times someone had told him how hot and amazing his dad was would’ve been too high if it had happened even once. Unfortunately, it had happened dozens of times.

He went to respond, but his words caught in his throat as he turned to look at Remus. 

Remus hadn’t met his f- their father. Did he want to? Right now? Roman had no idea how Remus might feel about that, it wasn’t like they’d had a chance to- 

Remus popped right up from his bed. The nurse nearly snapped out of her fan haze at the sudden movement, all three of them watching as Remus reached for the privacy curtain. It had been fully open, the fabric bunched against the wall between their beds. With a sharp, wordless tug, he yanked it along its track, pulling it across the entire room and dividing the room into two distinctly separate spaces.

The three on the main side of the curtain froze for a beat, having to take a moment to register what had just happened. Logan and Roman glanced at each other, holding the look for a long few seconds until Roman finally shrugged. 

Logan then turned to the nurse, nodded to the curtain, and made a quick zipped-lips gesture before speaking. 

Roman was halfway dressed, getting ready for the big day. It had been weeks since the interview and the entire fiasco that followed, and the sanctuary was finally ready to be opened. They were going to have a whole ribbon cutting. A big name reveal. He was genuinely very excited. 

Right now, though, he needed to pick a shirt. 

He wore T-shirts most of the time. They were all tailored on top of already being far too expensive to begin with, but they were still T-shirts. But part of him kept eyeing a button-down instead. He could wear that. Claim it was because this was a big event. No one who knew him would buy that excuse for a second, but it sounded plausible.

With a sigh, he stepped in front of the mirror and studied his bare torso. 

He’d spent days in the hospital, waiting for his body to decide when it would allow his diamond form to fade completely. When it happened, it scared just about everyone. His heart monitor had spiked, alarms flaring as it quickly hit a rate far outside of the norm. 

It turned out that the last of the diamond finally receded - and with that came feeling.

Roman had kept it mostly off of his face, but his heart couldn’t hide anything. The rhythm picked up sharply as the ache set in, sudden and real after so long of nothing at all.

He'd tried to tell the nurses - and Logan - that it was fine. That he’d just gone from no feeling at all to all of it at once. It wasn’t bad, just startling. No one believed him. And, to be honest, they were right not to.

It didn’t hurt in the way he would have expected under more usual circumstances. It wasn’t sharp, or stabbing. It was mostly a very deep, dull ache. He would have left it at that, but the hospital staff wanted to know absolutely everything after such unprecedented physical trauma. 

So - because he had to put it into words, and only did so under protest - it felt like too much pressure packed into his bones, the ache swelling and receding in slow, somewhat unpredictable pulses. Layered over that was a heat radiating through his muscles, the kind of burn that would come from pushing a workout far past any responsible limit. Like he’d taken every affected muscle and shredded them all at once. 

Which, he supposed, made sense after what he’d actually done.

He wouldn’t use the word agony. But he was certainly not comfortable.

His forearms and chest had the worst of it, delivering constant reminders that he’d pushed his body far beyond what it should have survived. 

They’d done everything a hospital could do. Every scan. Every test. Every check. It was honestly a marvel that he wasn’t worse off. It was like his body had gone into overdrive, healing itself in every way it could, despite the inhuman structure that had taken the damage. His bones looked recently knit back together. His blood carried markers of fighting off infection. His skin was tender and raw, like it had only just finished growing back. 

They coated his chest, arms, and neck in the best healing creams and serums money could buy and wrapped him carefully in bandages. They wanted him to keep resting, wanted his arms kept still - threatening slings if he couldn’t manage it on his own.

It had been a very rough week of that. Especially with Logan watching him like a hawk. 

He wasn’t on bed rest anymore. He wasn’t being told to keep his arms still, or warned about how much weight he could carry. The aches and pains still lingered - he didn't know whether they’d continue to fade with time or stay with him for the rest of his life - but they weren’t constant anymore. He would happily take that.

What he wasn’t as happy about was what he was looking at now. 

There was no way to explain the scarring on his body without explaining the fiasco itself. Nothing the average person could have survived would have left a mark like the one on his chest - it was too wide, too long, spanning nearly his entire ribcage. The scarring on the back of his neck was far lighter, composed of jagged lines that radiated from the base of his skull down onto his shoulders. Those, at least, would probably fade. 

His chest certainly would not.

The strangest part was that none of it was raised. The scars were unmistakable, but perfectly flat upon his skin - more like shadows of what his other form had endured than evidence of anything having happened to the skin itself.

His forearms bore similar marks - bursts of scarring across the tops of them, like water balloons had ruptured there and left stains behind. 

He didn’t like any of it.

Obviously, he was grateful to be alive. Scars only existed if someone survived, and these were proof that he had. He didn’t regret what he’d done, either. He would never hesitate to protect someone if he was able. 

Roman just… Didn’t like how it looked. 

There wasn’t much else to say. He didn’t like the way it marred his appearance. The thing he was known for - besides his music, his parents, the fact that he was a mutant; the list honestly went on - was how attractive he was. It wasn’t actually important. Not really. But part of him still wanted to be perfect. 

He just couldn’t help it. He’d grown up in a very shallow, image-obsessed world. Paparazzi had been a constant presence for longer than he could remember, and perfection had never been optional. He knew it didn’t actually matter. That no one who actually mattered cared. But that didn’t make it easy to shake.

He’d get used to it. Hopefully even get over it. It was just too fresh right now. 

Logan slipped the long-sleeved shirt out of Roman’s hand. Roman hadn’t noticed him enter the room, he hadn’t even realized that he’d picked up the two shirts he’d been choosing between. 

“You’re thinking too hard about this.” His boyfriend said simply, turning to hang the long-sleeve back where it belonged. 

“You’ve never once said that to me.” Roman said, tracking him with his eyes.

“It is a fairly new development.” Logan replied lightly, his mouth quirking slightly at one corner. He turned back once the shirt was back in place. They held each other’s gaze for a moment before Logan stepped back to Roman’s side at the mirror. “You don’t need to cover them, Roman.” 

Roman sighed. “I know, I just.. They’re just-” Logan lifted a hand to trace the scar across Roman’s chest, his touch nearly reverent. “Marks of what you overcame.” He assured him. “A reminder of how valiant you are.”

Roman couldn’t help the blush creeping into his cheeks. He rolled his eyes, like that might hide it. “You make it sound so heroic." “Isn’t it?” 

He hesitated, then huffed softly. “I- I guess?” 

Logan hummed. “Give it time. You’ll figure it out.” 

Roman huffed again, shooting his boyfriend a look before pulling on the T-shirt and turning back to the mirror.

“That’s the right one.” Logan said. “You look like you.” 

Roman didn’t quite know what to do with that. But Logan wasn’t often wrong. He just turned away to get his shoes and finish getting dressed. 

“Everything is ready for us downstairs.” Logan said, watching as Roman sat to tie his laces.

“Oh. Thank you.” Roman looked up at him from where he sat on the end of their bed. “I… I almost can't believe the day is finally here. That we’re actually opening this place.”

“The last few weeks have been quite the whirlwind, but I do believe we’re ready.” Logan agreed. 

They lingered there for a moment, just looking at one another, thinking back on everything it had taken to get here. Roman and Logan had been staying on site almost since the building became habitable, overseeing every little detail together - everything from the placement of the security cameras to the width of the doorways and the height of the ceilings. Logan insisted on redundant exits and backup power generators. Roman had spent an unreasonable amount of time making sure the floors were the exact right shade of cherry wood and that the lighting was perfectly warm. They’d discussed nearly everything, bringing in others and assigning duties as needed. Simone had been their most utilized consultant, but just about everyone contributed. Emile oversaw the creation of dedicated calming spaces. The unlikely duo of Patton and Marq designed most of the kitchen layouts. Prim and Vale were given free reign over the greenhouse and garden. Virgil and Abi did a sweep through for sketchy corners and security blind spots. Remy appointed himself head of mattress and bedding selection for every room, and Janus ensured all of their technology met his very high standards.

What may have been Logan's favorite development had started with Ruby. 

She’d asked - bright and sincere - whether having classrooms meant she’d finally get to go to school. She never had. Logan had been concerned; he felt he barely knew how to talk to children Ruby’s age, let alone teach them. Roman suggested they could attempt to hire a teacher, they’d just need to find someone comfortable working with mutants. 

That was the professor’s lightbulb moment. 

He got up without a word, walked right out the front door, and didn’t return for several hours. When he did, he brought someone with him - an older man no one recognized until Logan said his name and realization immediately set in. 

Mr. Maurice Weaver. The elementary school teacher who, two decades earlier, had set Logan on the path that led to everything his life had become. 

He became their first entirely brand new resident.

Roman and Remus, meanwhile, argued endlessly over sewer tunnels beneath the building. It took days for them to reach a compromise. Eventually, they managed it. Roman agreed to let Remus have his creepy tunnels, but he had to sleep in an actual, above ground bedroom. Remus agreed that the entrances would not be capped with manhole covers, but instead sit flush and match with Roman’s stupid specific flooring.

So it had all come together.

Roman and Logan made their way downstairs, doing one last visual sweep as they headed outside to the front entrance of the building. Everyone was there. All their friends - the family they’d chosen. There were a few cameras, but only their own this time. Photos and footage could be shared later - they didn’t need any unnecessary people there to potentially bring things down with disparaging commentary.

A wide red ribbon stretched across the entrance and a white sheet covered the name above the door. That was probably the largest thing that they hadn’t discussed. Roman had wanted it to be a surprise. They also hadn’t discussed who would cut the ribbon and who would pull the rope to reveal the name. 

Ruby ended up deciding for them. 

She did what she did every time she saw Roman with his hands free - ran right to him and lifted her arms to be picked up. He scooped her up onto his hip and nodded to Logan as Patton stepped forward with the scissors. Janus then placed the rope attached to the covered sign in Roman’s free hand. 

Roman and Logan exchanged a glance and soft smile, then got everyone started on the countdown from ten. 

When the crowd shouted one, Logan cut the ribbon and Roman pulled the rope. 

The ribbon fell away, the sheet dropped, and the sign was fully revealed. 

Most of their assembled friends broke into applause as they looked up to read what Roman had called their new home. 

R. Ellsworth Mutant Sanctuary

Roman had a lot of reasons for loving the name, and he was more than ready to explain every single one of them. He’d known there would be questions and he’d been preparing since the moment the idea occurred to him.

For one, he liked that it wasn’t just his name. Putting someone else’s name on the building had felt right from the start. And once he noticed the letters he was working with, everything had fallen in place almost too perfectly. The R was him, yes - but it was also necessary. Logan had said he didn’t want the acronym too tortured and Roman had agreed. One slightly forced initial seemed reasonable enough.

Because the real point was the rest of it. 

If you took the first two letters of Mutant, the acronym became R.E.Mu.S.

Roman loved that. He loved that it tied the place to his brother without making it too obvious. He loved that it was quiet, but still intentional. So yes, it was still his name up there, but he’d had to do it! E.Mu.S would have been too silly. 

He turned to Logan with a wide smile, ready to launch into the entire explanation as soon as he asked. 

But of course - obvious to basically everyone except Roman - that was not the question that he asked first.

Logan was staring up at him, eyes tracing his face like he was checking for something he might have been missing. But he knew Roman backwards and forwards. There wasn’t a single hint of trickery or subterfuge in his expression. So he drew in a breath and just asked the actual obvious question. 

“Did you just propose to me with a building?”

Roman’s thoughts flooded immediately. 

The weeks of planning for the perfect engagement ring. The hours spent secretly practicing how to conjure sapphires instead of rubies, so the stones would represent both of them. His only somewhat still vague plans for their autumn wedding. The growing list of honeymoon destinations. The certainty - absolute and unquestionable - that he would take Logan’s last name. He’d even gotten Logan’s favorite teacher’s blessing, knowing that would matter more to him than asking his actual parents.

Apparently, somewhere between his excitement about getting engaged and everything involved in actually opening the building, he’d forgotten to actually propose in the first place. 

He patted his pocket. 

Yep. The discreetly flat ring box was still there, in the same spot he’d slipped it into every morning since picking it up from the jeweler over a week ago. 

Logan did actually have a few phone calls he could make, though everyone involved knew they hadn’t been so pressing that he truly needed to leave the room. What was happening behind that door was something he wanted to give them space for. If Roman wanted to decompress later and tell him about it, he would. So Logan focused on being useful, doing as many productive things as he could come up with to kill time. 

He called Patton and Emile so they could relay the necessary information - he was sure they’d work together to mobilize the others to visit the hospital now that Logan had given the all clear. He caught up on emails. Used the restroom. Splashed some water on his face. Answered a few questions from doctors and nurses who passed by. 

Eventually, he ran out of things to do.

At that point, his options were either go back into the room and see how the conversation had progressed so far - or stand somewhat awkwardly in the hallway. 

He chose the hallway. Obviously. No question. 

Logan’s main hope was that he’d get some kind of sign it was safe to return to the room before the others showed up. He didn’t want to knock. Thankfully, after everything the last few days had thrown at them, he finally caught a bit of a break.

Kingston exited his sons’ room, propping the door open as he bid them one last goodbye before stepping fully into the hallway. He spotted Logan immediately and gave him a fondly chastising look - they both knew Logan had been giving them space despite being told it wasn’t necessary. Kingston let it go without comment and simply held out his hand yet again. 

“Thank you for everything, Logan.” He said sincerely. “I can’t even begin to express how much you’ve done for me.” 

Logan took his hand and shook it firmly. “It was no hassle, Mr. Sterling. I’m glad I was able to help. And do let me know if there’s any other information you need going forward. I may be able to assist further.”

Kingston sighed, though his expression stayed light. “I’d love to tell you that won’t be necessary,” he said. “but I suspect you’ll be hearing from me once I speak with my lawyer. I don’t know what I’ll-” He shook his head. “Let’s not worry about that right now. There are more important things.” Logan nodded. “Of course.” 

Kingston returned the nod, smiling softly. In that moment - watching the way one corner of his mouth lifted, the familiar way his eyes crinkled at the corners - Logan was struck again by how much Roman looked like him. Obviously, Kingston was decades older, his face marked by the years he’d lived. Still, there was a reason he nearly always landed on those ridiculous most attractive celebrities lists. 

A tiny, traitorous part of Logan’s mind reminded him that Roman would probably age just as well. He was grateful for his dark complexion - he could feel heat creeping into his cheeks and he did not want Kingston to notice. 

Kingston brought him from his thoughts by resting a hand lightly on his shoulder. Logan looked up, quickly refocusing. “Thank you,” Kingston said again, quietly. “Truly. Yes, for everything you’ve done for me.” His grip tightened just slightly. “But most of all, for taking care of him. I’m glad Roman has you, Logan.” 

If Logan hadn’t already been blushing, he certainly was now. He really hoped, again, that his skin tone hid it. “Of course.” He managed. “I’m- I’m more than glad to.”

Kingston's smile widened, that had been exactly the answer he’d hoped for. He gave him a small, satisfied nod and withdrew his hand. 

“And you can call me Kingston,” he added lightly. “I think we're past the formalities at this point.” He laughed - a warm, familiar sound that also instantly brought Roman to mind. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around. But goodbye for now.” He lifted a hand in farewell and turned to leave. 

“...Right. Good bye for now,” Logan paused before trying the name once, like he was testing the permission he’d just been given. “Kingston.” And then slipped back into Roman’s room.

He was suddenly facing Roman and Remus, both of them propped up in their beds and looking back at him. Despite their identical faces, their expressions couldn’t have been more different. Remus was looking at him with something close to mischief - a look that Remy had made him the most familiar with. The one that usually came right before a one-liner or sly comment. 

Roman, on the other hand, looked relieved. He was smiling at Logan softly, a sight that made something in Logan’s chest ease. His boyfriend was clearly exhausted. As strong as he was - and he was the strongest person he knew - he’d been through an insane physical ordeal, only to be hit immediately with an equally brutal emotional one. He really needed to get some actual rest.

“So. You had no problem tearing that psycho bitch a new one.” Remus said, drawing the attention to him. “But the threat of things getting mushy had you ducking out.” He huffed a laugh. “Respect.”

Roman started to respond out of trained reflex, then caught himself. The instinct that he was expected to defend her faltered. He didn’t have to do that ever again. He let himself laugh. “...That tracks, honestly.”

Logan was already far more comfortable with this than he had been talking to Kingston in the hallway. He rolled his eyes and moved to retake his seat on the far side of Roman’s bed. “I’d hardly call that tearing her a new one.” 

They were able to chat easily for a while, with Remus doing most of the talking - which suited an exhausted Roman and an introverted Logan just fine. Eventually, the professor interrupted him. Not by speaking, but by abruptly standing and moving to position himself just inside the door. 

The twins watched him with confusion, unsure what had prompted him to suddenly do so. 

Several seconds later, a blur appeared in the doorway. It barely paused to choose a direction before darting straight for Roman’s bed. Before it could get more than a few steps into the room however, Logan reached out and snatched it cleanly out of the air. 

The whole event occurred far too quickly for Roman’s tired brain to keep up with. He hadn’t realized what had happened until he registered that Logan was holding Patton a few inches off the ground, arms wrapped securely around his torso. 

Then it all fell into place. Logan must have heard him coming - somehow - despite Remus’s steady stream of conversation, and moved to intercept. They’d long since lost count of how many times Patton had launched himself directly into Roman’s arms, Roman always catching him with ease. But Patton didn’t know about the state of his chest, and even if he likely would have been fine due to its diamond state, Logan clearly wasn’t going to take chances.

Even once Roman caught up with what happened, there were still a few things he had to parse through. First - he hadn’t realized Logan was strong enough to just hold Patton up like that. That was something. Second - if Logan heard Patton approaching, why hadn’t he? He chalked that up to exhaustion, and maybe the fact his head was a bit closer to all the humming medical equipment. 

But then there was another possibility. Patton had been especially attuned to the two of them ever since their powers had been swapped back. Roman couldn’t help wondering if Logan had picked something up from him in the process - some specific awareness of Patton, or maybe a sharper sense of hearing than he’d had before. That was worth thinking about later. 

When he refocused on the scene in front of him, Logan was carefully setting Patton back on his feet, giving him a firm but gentle reminder that Roman was in the hospital because he was injured. Hugs would, unfortunately, have to wait until he had been discharged.

Patton was wearing his beanie to hide his ears since they were in public, but Roman knew they would have been flat if they’d been able to move. He smiled at him and held out a hand, offering the empath a way to touch him - a smaller, safer way - so he could still affirm that he was there and okay. 

Patton took the opportunity immediately, hurrying forward to clasp Roman’s hand in both of his.  He stepped closer, carefully, and hugged Roman’s arm to his chest instead. He did it very gently, his gaze catching the sight of his friend’s still opaque diamond forearm.

They were very proud of his restraint.

“Hey Pat.” Roman said softly, looking up at him from his bed. 

“Hey Ro, I- I was so worried, but I’m so glad you’re okay. We were watching you on television and then you - and the-” Patton trailed off, he had a lot of feelings. 

Roman lifted his other hand and rested it over top of one of Patton’s. “I know, I'm sorry for scaring you. But I'm okay.” “What did I say about all these apologies?” Remus cut in, sounding almost bored. “I already said it was my fault.” He didn’t look like he felt particularly guilty, but he was more than willing to take blame for something he had, in fact, done.

Patton looked up, really registering who it was there in the room with them. His face lit up in surprise, quickly followed by clear uncertainty about what he was supposed to say. 

Strangely, Remus’s expression lit up too - but with delight. “Hey! It’s Doctor Peen Can!” 

They followed his eyeline to the doorway, where Emile had apparently just caught up. He must not have run through the hallway like Patton clearly had. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Remus.” Emile responded, smiling softly.

The other three blinked in confusion. 

“...I really want to ask if I'm dreaming.” Roman mumbled. “But I'm pretty sure this is just my life now.” 

The mood in the room hadn’t been heavy to begin with, but the comment still lifted it further. Emile and Patton dragged over chairs so they could settle in, finally able to give their own updates. 

Patton admitted how badly he’d wanted to remain at the hospital with Logan, but it became clear very quickly that his own fear for Roman’s well-being - combined with the waves of concern radiating off Logan - was too much for the empath to handle. Emile had done his best to run damage control, trying to keep the younger members of their team calm, but it had ended up actually being Remy who’d made the biggest difference. 

Roman, and even Logan, were shocked to hear that - but Emile clarified. Remy had used his powers to put both Patton and Virgil into a long, and very much needed, nap. Virgil had been hovering on the edge of an anxiety attack ever since the camera cut out on Roman’s interview, and Patton - in peak Patton fashion - tried to regulate it despite being in no shape to shoulder that kind of emotional weight. Emile tried to mediate, but ultimately Remy just took matters into his own hands. Remy and Janus had really considered coming along with Emile and Patton to visit the hospital. Janus, however, couldn’t do so without sneaking in inside someone’s pocket, and Remy really needed to stay close to Virgil for the time being. 

There were some well-wishes from Simone and her family as well - especially from Ruby, who had unfortunately insisted on watching Roman’s interview and caught that something bad had happened. Simone had been one of the people Logan was keeping informed about Roman and Remus’s condition, so Ruby had been reassured that they were both going to be okay. Though they did have to promise to go see her soon, so she could see that for herself.

Patton also relayed a message from Virgil - apparently Roman was to be given his frustrations rather than his thoughts or well wishes. That, at least, earned a laugh from everyone - easing the brief dip into guilt Logan and Roman shared over the stress the whole ordeal had put the others through. 

Vivienne went white. Completely, utterly frozen in place - eyes wide, like she was staring at a ghost. Kingston’s eyes had blown wide as well, also staring at Remus. Then they flicked to Roman. And back again. Over and over, his mind scrambling to justify what he was seeing. To make it make sense. To grasp just what his wife had done.

The air felt thick, suffocating. Remus's chest heaved as he stared daggers at the woman who’d given birth to him - this was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on her. The threat in his gaze very real. It was Kingston who spoke first. 

“Vivienne. What is going on.” 

It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. His face had gone flat, the storm raging beneath only reined in by decades of Oscar-winning restraint.

Vivienne’s gaze snapped from the son she’d abandoned to her husband - the calm, composed man who’d never once raised his voice unless it was written in a script, now looking at her like he was trying to set her on fire. 

“Uh, well, I…” She started. Roman couldn’t help the small smile on his face. He had never seen either of his parents like this. His father, furious. His mother, cornered.

He liked it.  

“They’re identical. Born the same day, from the same parents.” Logan said plainly, his phone still held up, Vivienne framed perfectly in the ongoing recording. He was stating the obvious, but it felt necessary. He gave it a moment to sink in before he continued. “She made sure you never knew. She crafted this plan and executed it without ever consulting you.” 

Vivienne was far more concerned about the two men staring at her in nearly identical rage, but Logan’s calm recounting of details that she believed lost to time still pulled her attention. “How do you- What are you talking about? You’re just making up-” She tried, but Logan had no patience for another round of her attempted gaslighting. 

“You picked a date, made sure your husband was a plane ride away, and told him you’d gone into labor early.” Logan continued, not giving her an inch to keep attempting her usual manipulations. “So you could make the decision alone.”

Kingston’s nostrils flared as he fought to remain some semblance of calm. “Decision?” He asked tightly. “What decision?” 

“King. My darling, can’t we ju-” 

“Of which one to keep.” Logan added.

Kingston pressed his hands to his temples. “You… You knew. You planned to only keep one of our children?” His breath hitched, nearly manic, as he spread his arms in disbelief. “How could you just- What, did you flip a fucking coin?” 

“N-no, of course n-” “I believe her exact words were, ‘I only need the pretty one.’” Logan said, his tone lethal.

Vivienne finally turned back to him. “How do you know a-” “Who cares how he knows, Vivienne?! It’s clear it's the truth!” Kingston seemed about ready to start pulling his hair out.

Remus was honestly almost not even angry anymore - his father really had this handled. Roman just wished he had popcorn.

“I can’t believe you’re such a…” Kingston faltered, so mad he almost couldn’t find words. “A cold-hearted, evil-” He cut himself off with a sharp breath. “And, and then you just, what? You just told some poor nurse to make him disappear? Dump him in some orphanage somewhere?” Vivienne opened her mouth, probably to try and stammer some more, but this time Logan didn’t even let her get far enough for him to interrupt again. 

“Actually,” he said calmly, “she said ‘get rid of it.’”  

The room went dead quiet. No further protests from Vivienne, no damning condemnations from Kingston. Only silence, spreading through the room like death. 

Vivienne’s eyes were locked on Kingston. Kingston stared at the ceiling. Roman and Remus were glancing between their parents and each other, neither sure what anyone might do next. And Logan remained perfectly still, keeping his phone trained on Vivienne.

Eventually, she stepped toward her husband, her hands lifting slowly, like she might reach for his. The instant her heel clicked against the floor, Kingston dropped his chin to look at her and raised a hand to halt her. 

“Do not touch me. Do not speak to me. I… I feel like a fool. You kept me ignorant - and I let you.” His voice was flat, devoid of feeling. “I don’t know who you are, I don’t know if I ever did.” He exhaled, eyes narrowing as he looked down at her like something foul stuck to his shoe. “I don’t plan to find out.”

She opened her mouth to speak.

“I said,” He cut in calmly, “Do not speak to me.”

Vivienne froze where she stood, hands still half-raised, as though she’d forgotten she’d moved them at all. Her composure didn’t shatter all at once - it seemed to crumble slowly, the more she realized that these were the consequences and she’d very much earned them. There was nothing she could do. Nothing she could spin. No one she could threaten, manipulate, or gaslight. 

Roman and Remus shared a long look. They hadn’t spent time together, they didn’t technically know each other at all. And yet, there was still something between them - something even their mother hadn’t been able to sever. They were connected. They understood each other. 

All Remus had to do was lift one shoulder, a half shrug that gave Roman the go-ahead.

“Look.” Roman said, breaking the silence and drawing every eye to him. Though he didn’t look at anyone but his mother. “I don’t ever want to see or hear from you again. We could dismantle your entire little world that you’ve built yourself, and I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep about it.” He paused, deliberate. “In fact, I’m still considering it. But for now, I think you should just leave.” 

She opened her mouth once again, but this time she stayed quiet without anyone else needing to silence her. Her gaze moved slowly around the room, pausing on each of them for a moment. The son she displayed, the son she abandoned, the husband she betrayed - and, though she didn’t know it, the man who had placed himself between her son and whatever tried to harm him. Including her.

Her gaze lingered on Logan, dropping down to the phone in his hand. He kept it trained on her just a moment longer, capturing the exact instant it fully set in - when she realized he would always have this hanging over her. That some part of her had still believed she’d leave this room with some measure of control. He caught it as that belief finally collapsed. 

Then he lowered the phone, stopped the recording, slipped it into his pocket, and simply stared her down until she turned for the exit.

Vivienne slipped out and let the door shut quietly behind her, the room able to breathe again once she had disappeared from view - and, hopefully, from most of their lives for good.

Kingston stayed stock still, staring at the door as though it might burst right back open. He gave it several long moments before the tension finally released from his shoulders. Then he let out a long, uneven breath and scrubbed a hand down his face. 

He turned back toward his son - sons - pausing before fully looking at Remus like he wasn’t sure if he had the right. 

It took him a beat to raise his eyes to the son he’d never met, studying him like he might find a script for this moment written in the pattern of his hospital gown. “...I’m so sorry.” He said quietly. “I didn’t know and I should have. But, I… If you’ll let me, I’d like to know you.” He brought in a steadying breath. “May I sit?” Remus blinked, staring back at his father. “Uh.. Yeah.” 

Kingston smiled, relief plain on his face, as he pulled a chair from the far end of the room and dragged it to a spot between the two hospital beds - close enough to face both of his sons. 

Logan had been a rock throughout the confrontation, a steady pillar of strength and authority. But this conversation was going to be very different. Very feelings-y. He cleared his throat. “I’ll step out for a bit. I have a few phone calls I should make.” No one fell for that. They just interpreted it differently. 

“Oh, Logan.” Kingston said gently. “Please don’t feel like you need to leave. You’re far closer to family here than I am right now. You certainly wouldn’t be intruding.” That surprised Logan more than he expected, but he didn’t have time to fully unpack that right now. “...I appreciate that, Mr. Sterling.” He said quickly. “But I really do have a few people I should contact. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just be out in the hall.” He reiterated and made a brisk retreat - though if anyone accused him of downright fleeing, he’d have denied it.