#lex writes

Ford is sitting on the porch couch a few days after the children have gone home, just soaking in the late-summer sunset, when Stanley deigns to join him.

For a moment, Stan freezes in the doorway, eyes widening before shuttering into that look. He walks slowly around Ford to sit down on the other side of the couch, soda in hand. Neither speak for a long minute, though Ford can feel Stan's eyes on him.

The sun sinks below the tree line, streaking the sky with red and gold.

"I-"

Ford jolts, immediately turning his attention to his twin. Stan isn't looking at him now, instead staring hard at the wood floor with a pinched face. His thumb runs around the can's rim while he gnaws on the inside of his cheek. Ford almost reaches out to stop him, but he's learned that he needs to have patience with Stanley, especially now.

Despite the burning need for answers, Ford bites his tongue and watches as the shadows stretch over Stan's face. He suspects that Stan had remembered something bad again, although he can't imagine what else has happened. He'd thought they'd already restored the worst of them. Still, as Stan takes a deep steadying breath, Ford straightens his back and braces himself.

"I can't tell if you're real or not."

The words don't register at first, still having expected the sentence to start with 'I remembered something'. Ford blinks.

"Pardon?"

Stan shifts uncomfortably, glancing at him and then away again.

"Ok, listen. You can't get mad at me for this, if you are real, because I really had no say over it."

Dread sinks into Ford's chest, squeezing at his ribs. This must have been a bad memory, then. He hadn't seen Stanley in hours, had Ford just been lazing about while his brother was suffering? Again?

Ford waves a hand for Stan to continue. Stan eyes the motion and nods slightly before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his legs.

"I uh... I've seen a lotta ya over the years, ya know? And I really thought he'd go away after I got you home, but he's still... there sometimes. And he's gotten real convincing since it started."

"...what?"

Stan grunts and sets his soda can between his feet, using both hands to scrub at his face.

"Fuck why is this worse than the memories..."

Stan looks over at him, seemingly scrutinizing every detail, then he reaches a hand out. It's slow and faltering, pausing before it actually makes contact with Ford's arm. Ford takes the initiative and takes Stan's hand in his own, 5 fingers perfectly surrounded by 6.

Stan had nearly flinched, his mouth drawing tight and shoulders hiking up right before the connection. As soon as Ford grasps his hand, the tension in Stan's expression releases before twisting in a different, familiar way. Now he's just bracing himself for a bad conversation.

Ford's never been good at reading social cues. He's always been good at reading Stanley. The dread grabs his heart and yanks.

"Stanley... Have you been- been hallucinating me?"

Stan cringes before looking away guiltily.

"Would you believe me if I said it got worse?"

Ford isn't sure he can withstand this conversation. Whatever he had been bracing for, it wasn't this.

"Worse? How could it be worse?! How long has this been happening?!"

Somehow, Stan shrinks in on himself more and mutters just loud enough for Ford to catch.

"... 19 years..."

"This has been ongoing for 19 years!?"

"Since we were 19 years old."

"WHAT!?!"

40 years. 40 years. Stanley has been having such vivid hallucinations of him that he can't trust himself to approach what looks like his brother for 40 years!

Wait-

"This is still happening?! Why haven't I heard of this before? Why haven't you gotten treatment?"

Stan's face twists with discomfort and his eyes shift around, blatantly avoiding Ford.

"Well, uh... About that... I kind of don't trust any sorta psychologists since I was admitted to a uh... mental asylum in '76?..."

It got worse.

"WHAT!?"

"Look, they just- I don't even know if it was actually an official place cause they never asked any questions about my identity or emergency contact or none'a that. They just- it wasn't even for that, I just freaked out too close to the general public and got bussed in. They just diagnosed me with some bullshit excuse and pumped me full of drugs for a while. Actually, he started gettin' more vivid after I got outta there."

Ford needs to pace. He needs to pace desperately but he's unwilling to let go of Stan's hand and also if he paces, he might come off as angry and he doesn't want his brother to think he's angry about him having a delicate mental issue. He's not angry at his twin for any of this.

He IS angry about his twin having been possibly illegally admitted to an institute when Stanford had just finished college, and Ford HADN'T BEEN INFORMED IN THE SLIGHTEST. His brother had been kidnapped, diagnosed likely insane, and drugged for who knows how long while Ford had been, what, chasing gnomes?

"Ford?"

His brother had suffered so much due to not only Ford's negligence, but the world as a whole. No wonder Stanley was so willing to throw it all away for him, what has the world ever done for Stan?

"Ford."

How many times had Stanley turned to his hallucinations, thinking it was really Ford, only for it to faze away when he reached for them? How many times had his twin begged for comfort, only for it to be yanked from him and left him hopeless?

"Ford, you're breakin' my hand."

Snapping out of his spiral, Ford drops the hand he was strangling, watching as Stan rubs the blood back into his fingers.

"I knew you weren't gonna like this, but I really thought you'd be louder about it."

"I am trying very hard not to react in a way that will make you think I am angry at or blame you in any conceivable way and I'm struggling to find one."

"Ah."

Ford sinks his nails into his pant legs, vibrating with stress and anger and anxiety. His teeth grind as he forcefully takes deep breaths, trying to steady his pounding heart. He adds a note to his mental hit-list to find who these people were and make them suffer worse than they made Stan suffer under their 'care'.

Stan's eyes drift from him to over his shoulder. His breath hitches and his shoulders draw up again. When Ford looks back, there's nothing there.

Nothing he can see, anyway.

"Is... Is he here now?"

Stan nods, hand reaching out blindly for support that Ford readily offers. Ford scoots closer, pressing himself against his twin's side, still scouting for an enemy that isn't there. Something that he can't fight. He hates it.

"He's... He's not sayin' anything..."

"Good. I'm sure there's nothing he has to say that you need to hear."

Stan glances between him and the empty space, then, carefully, hopefully, he relaxes.

He smiles.

"Not anymore, there's not."

They both stare into the empty space until the last streaks of light dim into the night sky. The air has gained a chill and Stan hasn't finished his soda, but neither of them are willing to move. Stan hasn't mentioned what the phantom has done since it appeared, but he seems to be having a silent conversation given how he'll tense or make an expression randomly.

Just as Ford is about to suggest they leave it out here to freeze, Stan does something unexpected.

He smiles.

It's small and bittersweet, but there. He lifts his free hand and waves at the open air, leaning his weight against Ford as he finally relaxes entirely.

"Stanley? What's happening?"

"I... I think he's sayin' goodbye..."

Ford looks down at his brother, back at the emptiness. The dread lessens as his twin's mood lightens. He'd feared that the apparition would have been a jumble of his worst words and feelings, due to their turbulent past. But if Stanley is so... not quite melancholy, but fairly sad and friendly about interacting with it, maybe it leaned more towards his teenage behavior, at least.

Stan drops his hand, blinking into the darkness as he finally looks away from the air and back to Ford.

"I... I think he's gone. For good, I mean. It feels different this time."

"Is that... a good thing?"

"I... I dunno. He's been, ironically, most of my sanity during the worst of it but... I think this means I don't need him anymore."

Ford thinks he understands. There's awe in Stan's voice, like this was something he never thought he could have. The dread twists away into relief, and he brings an arm up to wrap around Stan, knocking their heads together gently.

What she really wanted to ask was what for they've spent such a great amount of time and resources - just to drag Superman's dead body to LexCorp labs? She didn't dare to say that out loud cause it was obvious the lab would be destroyed if she did. She was afraid it was still about to happen anyway, and all her concerns now were about whether she could be able to keep Mr. Luthor from damaging himself.

And then suddenly the machines showed a positive response. A genuine surprise lit up Mercy's face, and Lex let out a sound that could remind one of a sigh of relief. If only it didn't sound partly inhuman. 'This man is a genius!' this flashed through Mercy's mind just a moment before Lex shutted everyone out of the operation room, including her.

Being left one on one with Superman, Lex let himself exhale once again, raggedly. Then he bended down over his nemesis (still unconscious). Lex closed his eyes slowly and gripped Superman's suit so tight that something started to crack, but it was uncertain if it was the fabric or his own bones.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare even think about dying not of my hands. You're mine. You're mine and mine only, you, goddamn insufferable alien..."

Breathing in short inhales, Lex rubbed his cheek over Superman's chest. The wounds on said chest were healing slowly. In a blink of an eye Lex pushed up from the floor making a sharp sound with his leather shoes and now was lying next to him. Having laid his head on Superman's shoulder, Lex still gripped his suit hard as if he was afraid to let it go. He was silent now, just normalizing his breathing.

Synchronizing it with shallow but even breaths of his hero.

Mercy who was watching the whole scene through the cameras took a sip of her coffee. According to approximate estimates they still have an hour or so before Superman would regain consciousness. She'd have to somehow let Lex know so he could order the employees of their next move.

The Sokovia Accords sit in front of me. Thin pages pretending to be a “promise”. A government vow to keep the world safe.

I start reading.

Blah, blah, blah, enhanced human. Blah, blah, regulated deployment. Asset ID #472913.

My name never appears. Just classifications. Categories. Permissions.

The word human repeats so often it starts to feel smaller every time it shows up—less like a truth, more like a restriction. A box they’ve already decided I fit into.

I look up and exhale slowly.

“Tony,” I say, already tired, “this isn’t protecting everyone. It’s definitely not protecting me.” I hesitate, then add quietly, “This sounds like a cage.”

“(Y/N/N), it’s not like that. You know that.” Tony finally meets my eyes. His voice is softer now. “I’m trying to keep you safe. I’m trying to keep you alive.”

The words land heavy in my chest.

“I—” I swallow. “Can I think about it? Just… sleep on it?”

Tony exhales and drags a hand down his face. For a moment, he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. Then he nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

The Avengers Compound feels hollow afterward. Too big. Too quiet.

Half the team is gone—scattered, on the run, and Tony is already talking about recruitment, about rebuilding, like you can replace people the way you replace armor. I’m the last one who hasn’t signed.

I never thought I’d miss structure. Never thought I’d miss being swallowed by a government agency, or sleeping in six-by-two bunks on a ship that never really stopped moving. At least back then, someone always told me where I stood.

Now, standing in the echo of what used to be a team, I’m not sure if refusing to sign makes me free… or a target.

That night, I lay in bed staring at the stack of papers on my desk. They feel like they’re staring back at me, looming like a sleep paralysis demon. I sit up and run my hands over my face before finally getting up.

I leave my room and knock on the door that usually has answers.

But Steve isn’t there anymore.

He’s off somewhere with the “Winter Soldier” —or whatever remains of him. I rest my forehead against the door, suddenly feeling like a lost child again. Only this time, I’m not one.

The Accords sit back in my room, waiting.

And for the first time, I feel the full weight of being a legal adult settle into my chest. Nat steps out of her room and stops when she sees me standing in front of Steve’s door.

“Did you sign them?” she asks.

“Not yet.” I turn to face her. “And honestly, I don’t know how you did.”

The words come out harsher than I mean them to. Nat doesn’t flinch. She just watches me for a moment.

“It’s a lot more complicated than that.”

“Is it?” I say, heat creeping into my voice. “You live in a gray area. You’re trained, not enhanced. You get more clearance.” I laugh under my breath, sharp and humorless. “But I get a leash”

The hallway goes quiet. Nat’s expression tightens, not angry. Calculating. Careful.

“That’s not what this is,” she says evenly.

“That’s exactly what it is,” I shoot back. “You sign and you get oversight. I sign and I become an insurance policy.”

She exhales slowly. “I signed because I’ve seen what happens when you don’t.”

I shake my head. “You signed because you still get to choose.”

Silence stretches between us, thick and uncomfortable. She hands me a phone, a simple keypad phone, and walks off. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

I tuck the phone into my pocket, its weight solid against my hip. I take a deep breath, deciding I should probably rest.

By morning, the compound is already buzzing. Tony’s trying to rally the stragglers, talking about missions and recruitment, but I can barely hear him. He says something about a spider kid who can help us, and I really couldn’t care less.

My thoughts keep circling back to what Natasha said, and I swear the phone is burning a hole in my back pocket. I pull out the outdated little device. There’s only one number saved.

Steve.

Of course it is. That’s such a Steve move.

I hover over the call button, thumb hesitating. Maybe he’ll have answers. Maybe he’ll say something that nudges me in the right direction. Or maybe this is how I end up in the Raft.

I’m still government property. A technicality.

An eighteen-year-old technicality—old enough to be held responsible, old enough to be punished. Expected to answer for actions that would qualify as espionage, international violations, war crimes.

Actions I took under a government organization that no longer exists.

For four years, SHIELD authorized everything I did. Signed off on it. Buried it. I was a minor, operating under orders, protected by jurisdiction and classification. A child weaponized by a system that took responsibility for the fallout. Now that entity is gone.

And with it, the protection.

We get the alert before we even land. Unauthorized access attempt. Stark Industries hangar. Quinjet bay. Tony doesn’t say it out loud, but we all know what that means.

“They’re going for transport,” Rhodey mutters.

“Of course they are,” Tony replies. “Cap never stays put.”

By the time we touch down, the airport is already too quiet. Wide open space, too much room for things to go wrong. Vision scans ahead, calm and methodical. Natasha’s silent beside me, unreadable.

This isn’t a conversation. This is containment.

We spot them near the hangar entrance — Steve, Sam, Wanda, Clint, and Barnes.

They’re exactly where the intel said they’d be.

Tony steps forward anyway. He always does. “You’re making this harder than it has to be, Cap. Walk away. We’ll figure this out.”

Steve shakes his head. “You know I can’t do that.”

That’s when I understand: this was never about changing minds. This was about buying time.

The moment Steve shifts his stance, the tension snaps.

“Alright,” Tony sighs. “Then we’re doing this.”

He glances over his shoulder. “Underoos.”

Something drops from the sky.

Red and black. Too fast. Too loud. Too young. Too inexperienced.

The kid lands, stumbles, then immediately starts talking like this is the greatest day of his life.

Spider-Man.

Rhodey lets out a stunned laugh. I just stare.

“So that’s Dungarewski,” I mutter.

The first blow lands seconds later. The shield hits concrete, and suddenly the airport isn’t empty anymore — it’s a battlefield.

“(Y/N), with the kid,” Tony orders. “Don’t let Barnes and Wilson get to the jet.”

“On it.”

Spider-Man webs Sam midair, hauling him sideways. Barnes moves instantly, metal arm tearing through the webbing as if it’s nothing.

I intercept before they can regroup.

This isn’t personal. I don’t hesitate. I don’t hesitate because hesitation gets people killed.

Barnes turns toward me, assessing, calculating. He fights like someone trained to end things fast. No wasted movement. No anger. Just efficiency.

I match him blow for blow, forcing distance, keeping him away from the hangar. He’s strong, stronger than the files suggested, but he’s not reckless.

That stands out more than it should.

Then Vision fires at the runway.

Wanda screams.

The fight fractures.

Everything stops being clean after that.

Steve sprints for the jet, Barnes close behind him. Nat isn’t with Steve—she’s intercepting T’Challa, firing to hold him back.

What is she doing? I just had to run over there. I try to help Nat but she pushes me off. “Go!” she screams at me, pointing to the jet. I look at her, I look at the jet, and finally I look at Tony.

“(Y/N), stop!” Tony’s voice crackles in my ear.

I reach the ramp just as Barnes turns, metal hand gripping the edge. Steve hauls him inside.

I should let go.

I should stop.

I should-

Instead, I jump.

The ramp seals shut behind us, cutting off the roar of the airport. I walk to the co-pilot seat like this was always the plan.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked.

Logan adjusted his tie for what seemed like the hundredth time in the evening. What kind of person agrees to a blind date and then decides not to show up? Come to think of it, getting figurative cold feet in this situation actually seemed normal. Perhaps Logan should have done that instead of listening to his best friend, who insisted he was ready to date again. And now here he was, waiting for the person who made the reservation at the entrance of a fancy restaurant.

Logan glanced over at the clock hung on the wall. Maybe his nervousness was making him exaggerate. His date was only fifteen minutes late, not two hours like it had felt like.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." 

A way too familiar voice right behind Logan snapped him out of his thoughts. No, it couldn't be. Turning around, Logan was met with the face of the person who was once his supposed dead boyfriend, Janus. "It looks like we are both not pleased with this situation, at least there is something we can agree on."

Janus rolled his eyes, and Logan couldn't help but stare at how the scar tissue on his ex's face tensed at the simple movement. "Please tell me that you're not here for a blind date."

Logan froze, of course Janus would be the only man in the city he would match with. Unbelievable, Janus had the audacity to lie and stay in hiding for years after faking his death, come back expecting Logan to welcome him with open arms, and now somehow managed to schedule a date with him. Logan would have guessed this was a desperate attempt to try and convince him to get back together if it wasn't for Janus's surprise. He could always be faking it.

Janus huffed, turning to walk out of the restaurant. “Lovely date, really. Please don't call me aga-”

As he tried to get out, Janus was blocked by a stranger who frantically entered the place, leaning roughly against the door as if he was trying to stop someone from getting in. Despite the sudden movement, it didn't look like this man was in the wrong place at all. The dark green suit he wore made him fit right in with the rest of the customers that were previously enjoying their meal before the interruption.

The stranger didn't seem to notice or care about the several pairs of eyes that landed on him, looking for who disturbed the quiet ambiance of the fancy place. He let out a long sigh, almost like a breath of relief, making the massy hairs of his mustache move ever so slightly.

He finally looked up, locking eyes with Janus and smiling brightly. His smile reminded Logan of a predator showing off their teeth to scare their prey, and if it wasn't highly improbable, Logan would have sworn this man had sharp teeth.

“You must be my date! Or at least I hope you are, because I would love to rip that expensive coat off you and destroy your a-”

An employee at the front of the restaurant cleared her throat, reminding this man that they were in a public space and even if everyone could hear his inappropriate fantasies, it didn't mean they wanted to. “Do you have a reservation, sir?”

“Ooh yes! It should be under R. Foley”

Even with his back facing Logan, he could still guess the expression on Janus's face, which was probably not that different from his own.

That was his reservation, their reservation. Logan watched as the man showed his ID to the restaurant's host. “Very well, table for three.” She grabbed three menus and made a sign for the men to follow her.

Table for three. Logan didn't have any time to process the implications of that phrase as the strange man turned to look at him, only now realizing he was staring.

He smirked, his mustache curling up as if it had a mind of its own. "You must be our third person, like what you see?"

Janus groaned next to them. "Did you seriously book a blind date with two people, without telling any of them?"

"Yeah! It's more fun this way!" The man took both Logan and Janus's hands, urging them to follow to their table.

Logan sighed as he let this man drag him. This wouldn't be too bad if it wasn't for Janus being here. The whole reason he wanted to go out was to finally be able to get over him, over what Janus did to him.

Still, neither of them found the will to object to their predicament. Logan wondered why. Was this man's -Remus, as he later introduced himself as- charm really that enticing to lure them in like a siren's song? Was Remus really radiating with such a powerful energy that it was able to dissipate the tension between Janus and Logan?

That seemed to be the case, because time went by without noticing. Unlike when he had first arrived, when fifteen mere minutes felt like hours, Logan had already ordered dessert after what felt like such a short time.

Remus's charisma was really working wonders on them, especially on Janus, who had opened up so easily in the span of one single evening.

Of course, most of what he casually mentioned were facts Logan already knew, but even when they were dating it had taken months for Janus to disclose such a great amount of personal information. Remus managed to achieve what Logan failed to do for months.

There was a hint of jealousy in Logan's heart, he was well aware of that. Not only because of the way Janus could easily flirt with the man who was supposed to be falling for both of them, but because of the clear chemistry between him and Remus. Logan would have felt out of place if it wasn't for Remus's constant encouragement for him to join and even lead the conversation, but he still couldn't help but feel like a third wheel.

Even with the amalgamation of confusing feelings, their evening was very enjoyable. Remus even managed to get Janus and Logan talking to each other, casually joking with each other like old friends.

Just when their last dishes were left on the table, as Remus was about to take a bite of the giant piece of chocolate cake he had ordered, the sound of loud police sirens started getting closer and closer, until it seemed like they stopped right outside the building.

Remus tensed up as soon as he heard the police getting closer, quickly and clumsily fumbling with his pockets, or rather, their contents. "Welp! This has been fun, wish we had time to bang." He took several crumbled dollar bills and threw them on the table.

Logan examined the one that landed closest to him, noticing it was a hundred dollar bill, and at first glance, he could see they all were. How many hundred dollar bills was Remus casually carrying around? 

Logan looked up at Janus, trying to figure out if his ex was just as weirded out by the situation as he was, just in time to see him catch a presentation card Remus had thrown at him like a shiruken. Another one of the same cards hit Logan on the side of his head, falling into the pastry he had yet to eat as he failed to catch it. Logan would blame it on being distracted, but he knew he wouldn’t have been able to catch it even if Remus had his full attention.

Logan could hear Janus snicker as he picked the card up, trying to clean jam that had stained part of the text but only managing to smear it.

“Call me, won’t you? I had the time of my life squeezing myself between whatever your weird sexual tension deal is!” Remus stood up before any of the other two could protest against that statement. “Do not fuck without me okay bye!”

And in the blink of an eye, Remus was out of sight, sprinting to the back of the restaurant.

Left alone in an uncomfortable silence, Janus called a waitress to come over to their table. “I’m getting my dessert to go. We can share Remus for all I care, but we shall never have a date like this again.”

Logan sighed, considering his options for a moment before nodding. “Yes, that would be appropriate considering the circumstances.”

Both men were convinced any hope of any sort of spark reigniting was extinguished that night. Still, Janus couldn’t help but glance back at Logan as they headed in opposite directions. Thinking that was the end of it, Janus walked back home with a creme brulee securely stored in a styrofoam container.

But that was far from the end of their story.

“I refuse to believe this is another coincidence,” Logan stated, looking straight into the eyes of his ex-lover.

-------------------------------------------------------

“Oh yes, because I’m thrilled to see you as well, Logan.” If Janus’s grip on his briefcase’s handle got any stronger, the whole thing might crack open.

Logan huffed, an immature action, but Janus was an expert at getting all sorts of emotions out of him. “I was under the impression you no longer worked on assassination cases?”

Janus simply ignored his question, walking right past Logan over to the front desk of the police station. “Detective Adder, here to investigate the murder of Mister Underwood.”

Logan couldn’t even roll his eyes, childish as ever. He cleared his throat as he walked closer. “You must be mistaken. I’ve been hired to investigate Mister Underwood’s death.”

“You? Wasn’t your last murder case a poisoned dog?”

Logan struggled to show no reaction to the derogatory comment. “Someone close to the victim solicited my services. She is convinced the man arrested for the crime is not guilty, and the real culprit is still out there. There should be a scheduled visitation with the suspect.”

The guy at the front desk, clearly unamused with the rivalry since he didn’t even bother to look up from his computer, replied in a monotonous voice. “There is a visitation scheduled under K. Underwood for two people.”

Janus scoffed. “That is impossible, Mrs. Underwood entrusted only me with this investigation.

“It appears that she didn’t trust your abilities alone and decided to hire someone more qualified to fill the spaces where you would, figuratively, fall flat.” Logan replied, adjusting his tie.

“Look, either you both go in or no one does. Hurry up and decide, so I can go back to work in peace.”

Both detectives let out a sigh at the same time, glancing briefly at each other before nodding.

The front desk guy called a guard in, and they escorted them to the private room reserved for them.

Logan stayed silent as they walked. Janus, however, still had many thoughts to voice about the situation. “I do not need a partner. I cannot believe that rich bitch didn’t inform me she had hired someone else.”

“That ‘rich bitch’, as you call her, is still grieving for her husband. I would have made sure to have the best possible detective investigating to guarantee the real culprit gets a proper sentence,” Logan replied, deciding to contribute to Janus’s complaints.

Logan heard how Janus almost laughed, but was quickly able to suppress the urge. “What happened to Mr. I work alone? Is now really when you finally let me help with a case?”

Logan stopped as the guard closed the door behind them, walking off to get the suspect. “I did not need your help then, and I do not need it now, but I can't go against the customer’s orders. If Mrs. Underwood hired both of us. I trust she has a good reason for it."

Janus stayed silent for way too long, finally letting out a dramatic and elongated groan. “Fine. This is a business matter, and I’m more than capable of working through it.”

A loud buzzing sound echoed through the room before Logan could reply. The door at the other end of the room opened, dragging the heavy metal against the already worn-out floor.

The sound of chains moving around was muffled by a male voice, who casually chatted with the guard about the prison’s food. “Seriously dude, best delicacies I’ve ever tasted! Say, do you know if they have delivery? I’ll definitely want more of this once I get-”

The suspect’s eyes landed on both detectives, who couldn’t seem to catch a break as the day kept hitting them with more surprises. “Well hello there! You two took your sweet time to call me.” Remus smiled brightly, making his mustache curl up in that enticing way that always managed to draw Logan in. He raised his arms, the chains keeping his arms contained rattled with the movement. “I would have preferred to see you again without these, but we can definitely work around them, or with them if that’s more your style.”

Janus pinched the bridge of his nose. “There better be a hidden camera in here because this is way too much of a coincidence.”

“At least there is something that we can agree on.” Logan took a deep breath and stepped forward, leaving his briefcase on the table in the middle of the room. “I am afraid neither Janus nor I are here to resume our encounter from the other night. Please, Remus, take a seat.”

Remus’s expression dropped as Logan explained, but he still obeyed and sat down. “Please, this wouldn’t be the weirdest place where I’ve had sex. We can definitely keep the party going!”

“You are the primary suspect in the murder of one of Florida’s biggest jewelry companies owner, and having sex with two men who you've been on one date with is your main priority?”

“Duh,” Remus shrugged, “that asshole I got as a lawyer won’t believe a word I say. If I get the electric chair or whatever, then I want to enjoy myself before I get my one-way ticket to hell.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, sitting on one of the chairs at the opposite edge of the table. “Are you implying our suspicions are correct, and you are not responsible for Mr. Underwood’s death?”

“Right on the money, nerdy Wolverine.”

Janus opened his briefcase, pulling out the pictures of the crime scene. “Do you recognize this place?”

Remus looked at the pictures as they were laid in front of him. He placed a hand on his chin, forcing the other one to follow due to the handcuffs. "Yeah! That’s The Plume!”

“The Plume? Is there anything that could link you to this place?” Logan wanted to be the first to start questioning Remus, even if he was wondering how Janus got those pictures in the first place. But that wasn’t relevant at the moment. If his companion had resources Logan could use to his advantage, he wouldn’t question it.

Remus almost snorted at the question. “Link me to it? I know the place better than my own dick! I was practically raised there! My parents had some gambling issues or whatever and the owner agreed to take me as payment. Uncle Sleep taught me everything I know!”

“And that gives you every reason to be at the crime scene when the murder happened.” Janus finally took a seat next to Logan, and the other detective was surprised when neither moved their chairs away.

“Yeah, doesn’t mean I did it.” Remus crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “It’s a casino, do you know how many bodies we’ve seen? Those fancy rich men don’t like it when you owe them money. That gives you a first-class ticket to your death sentence.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. How many crimes have been committed in this place? And how many of them had gone unreported or unsolved? “Your involvement with The Plume is not the only reason you’re locked up.” He opened his own briefcase, resisting the urge to give Janus an ‘I can do it too’ look, and took several documents out.

“The cause of death was an unidentified toxin. Whatever it was, it’s rare enough to go under forensic radar, if they were using technology from the 80’s. When the police were looking for clues, your laptop was confiscated in order to look at the security footage. They went a step further and registered your internet search history instead.” Logan slid the paper across the table, intending to give it to Remus. It was, however, intercepted by Janus.

The detective scanned through the paper, snickering at the apparent coincidences. “You’re the only person I know who would be stupid enough to give this much evidence to the police.” Janus turned the document to show it to Remus, pointing as he read. “Fastest acting toxins. Flavorless poisons. Most poisonous plants in the U.S. How to poison someone without being caught? Seriously?”

Remus squinted to look at the evidence that incriminated him. “That’s what this is about? My stupid research?” Remus huffed, leaning back again and almost knocking his chair over. “I knew it was a waste of time! No one cares about accuracy in murder stories! But no, that stupid editor said my first draft was too unrealistic.”

“What are you talking about?”

Janus groaned. “Don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”

Logan looked between both men, his mind not being able to figure out the information both of them seemed to know. “What? What is it that he’s not telling us?”

Janus looked into the inner pocket of his coat, pulling out the presentation card Remus had given them on their date night. “I kept wondering what ‘Arranger of textual nightmare fuel’ meant.” He looked over at Logan. “I thought you of all people would figure it out. Looks like the rat man over here wasn’t getting a second date from you.”

Logan was quick to prove Janus wrong, pulling out the presentation card and ignoring how they were both carrying Remus’s contact information. He set it down on the table next to the one Janus had just pulled out. “The words on mine are smudged. As much as I love blackberry jam, I must admit it is quite a pain to clean up.”

Logan stared at the clean card for a moment, trying to pull apart the words and decipher them. Then something clicked in his mind. “You’re an author.”

“No shit Sherlock.” Remus twisted his mustache between two fingers. “With those police men looking through my laptop like they were trying to find the clit, I’m surprised they didn’t find my manuscript! Could have given me an honest review before sentencing me to die of boredom!”

“This is the most cliché case I’ve ever worked on.” Janus leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Are these Google searches related to said manuscript?”

Remus stood up abruptly, not giving the detectives any heads up as he jumped on the table, which miraculously didn’t break. “1979! A retired mafia boss is dedicating his life to preserving every plant at risk of extinction. After years of growing familiar with both the positive and negative effects of several toxins, just as he is ready to share his discoveries with the world, his old nemesis finds and murders his family! And now he seeks revenge! Will he be able to keep his humanity? Or realize the entire human race is doomed to an existence of cruelty?!”

The sound of the large metal door being dragged open was mostly muffled by Remus’s maniac laugh. The guards barged in and took the chain man from his arms, pulling him down from the table.

Such a passionate outburst. Good thing the officers were too busy with Remus to notice the blushing detectives struggling to maintain their professionalism.

Logan cleared his throat. “Wait, we are not done with the interrogation.”

“This man was going to attack you, and you want to stay longer in this room with him?” One of the guards spoke as they pulled Remus out the door.

“Ooh, harder please.”

“That was not an attack.” Janus stood up, walking over to the guards to stop them from taking the suspect. “A simple energy outburst is not enough to frighten or hurt us. We were promised all the time we needed as long as it was within visitation hours.”

The guard sighed, pulling on Remus’s chains and shoving him towards the detectives. “If you want to put your security at risk, be my guest. But if another one of those outbursts happens, we’ll be obligated to take the prisoner away.”

Remus almost bumped into Janus, but was able to stabilize himself before that. “I’ll be good! Or daddy and daddy can punish me if I’m naughty!”

The other guard made a disgusted noise as both of them walked out, closing the door again.

Logan sighed, gesturing for Janus and Remus to come close again. “If what you’re telling us is true, Mr. Underwood’s cause of death is way too much of a coincidence. Someone wanted to frame you, and they knew exactly how to do it. Did you share your story with anyone aside from that editor you mentioned?”

“Oh yeah! I give a copy to anyone who gets too drunk at The Plume! But most never come back for some reason.”

Both detectives groaned. That just left too many possibilities, too many suspects.

“We’re going to have to get you out of here.”

“Why is there always a fire involved when you are around?”

-------------------------------------------------------

Janus scoffed, raising his hands up as if Logan’s glare could shoot him. “I was with you the whole time! And I only have one fire in my crime history. Thank you very much.”

In any other circumstance, Remus would have laughed or at least giggled at the scene. He would have admired how the flames danced around spreading chaos while his fuck-toys argued as background noise.

Any other circumstances didn’t involve The Plume being the fire’s victim.

As filthy and sketchy as the place could look, this was Remus’s home, the place that raised him. And he could only watch from the backseat of a minivan.

Remus simply sighed. “There goes the tickets and client records. Now what, lovebirds?”

“If the fire department is not here yet, then the fire was ignited not that long ago. The culprit couldn’t have gone far.” Logan took an instant camera out of his bag, snapping a quick picture of the burning casino. “We should drive around and see if Remus recognices any person passing by.”

Janus started the van, not waiting for Logan to order him around. “Exactly what I was going to suggest.”

It took an hour of constant arguing for Remus to finally have enough of this situationship Logan and Janus had. 

“A’right, you two bickering my ears out is fun the first half hour, but come on! Do you really hate each other’s guts that much? I can’t even concentrate on people’s faces with your voices pulling on my brain until it bleeds!” Remus leaned forward, poking his head through the space between the two front seats. “Stop the car, pretty please.”

Janus and Logan shared a look, sighing but keeping their mouths shut this time.

The minivan stopped right in front of a convenience store. “So, I’m putting you two in timeout while I get some snacks for the road trip. Cool? Cool”

Janus pressed the button to lock the doors and looked back at Remus through the review mirror. “Not so fast. You’re under our care. We were allowed to take you out of prison as a witness, under the condition we would get you back before your final trial. One of us has to go with you.”

Remus tsked, slowly shaking his head. “Fat chance, inspector gadget.” He pulled on the car’s lock and opened the door, stepping out before any of the detectives could stop him.

“Remus this is not-” Logan was just about to follow him, but even with the door opened, there was something else preventing him from going further. He looked back to find his right hand handcuffed to Janus’s left, trapping them with each other.

Remus closed Logan’s door, leaning on the edge of the opened window. “Those are your get-along handcuffs. They go out when I come back.”

Janus raised his hand, staring at their situation in disbelief. “Were you able to take them off this whole time?!”

“I’m full of surprises, Janny!” Remus grinned, reaching to rub his wrist. “They were starting to ache too much, but I kept them on since you were like super paranoid about me escaping. And now you two need them more than me!

Logan grabbed Remus with his free hand. “Remus, we are trying to get you out of jail. Come back inside and take the handcuffs off.”

Remus simply pried Logan’s hand off him, stopping for a second to leave a gentle kiss on it. “Relax L. Why would I want to run away from such cuties? Until we get some actual action, you two won't get rid of me that easily.” Remus let go, taking advantage of Logan’s flustered state to lean forward and take the detective’s wallet out of his jacket. He turned around to walk towards the store. “Be back soon!”

Janus tugged on Logan’s hand, trying to get a closer look at the handcufs’ lock. He only got a tug back in return. “Cut it out already. These petty and childish actions are what got us into this situation in the first place.”

Logan scoffed. “Oh, I am the petty one? Are you going to drop the act and tell me how you managed to sneak into my case? Or will you keep pretending this is a coincidence?”

“It is a coincidence! Why would I want to work with someone who hates my guts? Who can’t even look me in the eye anymore?”

“And whose fault is that?” 

As much as Logan hated to admit it, Janus was right. He understood he could physically have a conversation eye to eye with his ex-boyfriend, but there was something else that kept him from actually doing it. Even now, in the middle of an argument, Logan stared at the street in front of them, focusing on anything but Janus.

Janus, on the other hand, couldn’t focus on anything but Logan. No one else would be able to read the man’s expressions, thinking his resting face was always the same every time, but Janus knew where to look.

The vein that popped on his forehead meant that Logan was annoyed. His eyes curved slightly downwards when he was sad. He adjusted his tie when he was nervous. Small traits and actions that everyone else would miss, but not Janus. Janus knew him too well.

“I could ask you to forgive me a million times, but with the way I hurt you, you have every right to reject them.” Janus looked away, staring at the street as if he was trying to decipher what Logan found so interesting about it. “We don’t have to see each other again after the case is over. I can move to another city and leave you and Remus alone. Stop with the coincidences and blind dates.”

Logan sighed, for once unable to find the words to reply. He wanted to scream, to yell at Janus and let out all this rage he'd been bottling up ever since he reappeared. Logan wanted to make sure Janus knew just how much it hurt, how much Logan hated the feeling of loneliness he left behind. But losing his temper would be counterproductive. 

“Remus makes a very good point. We will accomplish nothing if we keep getting distracted with nonsense bickering.” Logan wanted to get over with this as long as possible, get the payment he was promised and go back to his life alone.

“Whatever our relationship is, with each other and with Remus, it is not important right now. If I am more than capable of figuring out this case on my own, together we can find the real culprit twice as fast.”

Janus rolled his eyes, trying to hide the smile that was forming on his face. “You were always a better detective anyway. I was only dragged along when you used to let me get involved.”

“Falsehood. You have many more solved cases in your professional life than I.”

“Only because yours always had a dead end, not even the brightest minds could find their way out of it.” Janus glanced down at their handcuffed hands. “You need to stop being so hard on yourself. Those deaths or disappearances weren’t your fault,” Janus finally gathered enough courage to grab Logan’s hand. “None of them.”

Logan’s first instinct was to pull back, to pull strongly enough to break the dam handcuffs and be able to run away. But he didn’t, he only stared at Janus’s hand over his for what felt like hours.

Should he let his guard down and let Janus explain? Every time he tried to contact him, Logan only closed the door on his face, hung up the phone, blocked the number. Whatever the reason was, Logan didn’t want to hear it. What could possibly make you abandon the one you claimed was the love of your life?

Before any of them could speak, Remus rushed into the car. He dropped the several bags of chips and canned sodas on the minivan’s floor. “That chick! With the Dr. Pepper bottle!”

Remus pointed at the store’s exit through the window, successfully pulling the detectives out of their conversation. “She came to The Plumme a couple of weeks ago. Poor girl thought I was straight and wanted a fun night. Gave her a discount and a copy of my book instead.”

“Well, it’s the only lead we have.” Janus let go of Logan to start the car, stopping when he realized he was still restrained. Janus gave Remus an annoyed glance.

“Oh right, that.” Remus reached forward, removing the handcuffs way too quickly for the detectives to figure out how he did it. And just as quickly as he took them off, they were locked around Remus’s wrists again. “What are we waiting for? Go!”

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Turns out, following a random girl in a white minivan wasn’t the best way to go unnoticed. 

The girl had been able to figure out there was someone following her, which resulted in a full-on persecution. Janus had been forced to park the van once she ran off into an alley, and Logan and Remus rushed after her.

Remus completely misunderstood the idea of following someone without them noticing, or simply chose to ignore it. “Let me ask you something.” 

Logan sighed, even knowing Remus as little as he did, it was enough to know he wouldn’t shut up. “Go on, quietly.”

“Why are you working on my case together? I don’t know what your deal is, but I haven’t heard you say anything remotely nice to each other, not even when we had dinner. Why be partners if you can’t stand each other?”

“It wasn’t our choice. Mr. Underwood's wife hired both of us, for some ridiculous reason.” Logan still couldn’t believe how his work alone wasn’t enough to satisfy Mrs. Underwood. 

“That’s impossible,” Remus stated, still following close behind Logan. “His wife died like five years ago. He really fucked his gambling game that night, and we gained a shit ton of money.”

Logan stopped, so abruptly that Remus didn’t have time to stop himself before bumping into Logan. If Mrs. Underwood was dead, then who hired them?

“Looking for someone?” 

A female voice was Logan’s only warning before a sharp pain on his nape made his vision blurry and his legs weak. 

Logan tried to lean against Remus, a wall or anything that was within reach, but his mind was getting foggier with each second. Logan fell to his knees as he heard the apparently distant sound of a fight. He couldn’t figure out what was going on, his only clues being Remus’s groans and the sound of something -someone?- being punched.

Whatever was going on, Logan didn’t have enough strength to keep himself awake.

The pain in the back of his neck had mostly dissipated by now. Whatever he was hit with was only effective in leaving him unconscious for most likely a short amount of time.

-------------------------------------------------------

Logan tried to touch the wound, wanting to make sure it wasn’t bleeding, but found his hands once again restrained, this time by a rope.

Next to him, Remus’s familiar groans made Logan realize the man next to him was in a similar predicament. Great, they had been kidnapped.

Logan squinted as he looked around. Despite still having his glasses, his vision and all his other senses were numbed by the strong burnt smell this place had.

Reaching down to touch the ground, Logan could notice it was still warm.

There wasn’t much to see once his vision cleared, only the remains of some sort of establishment. Every piece of damaged furniture was covered with ash, and as Logan coughed he noticed the slight tints of smoke still in the air.

Looking up at the high ceiling above them, Logan found something that confirmed his suspicions. A cracked LED sign, long turned off that read “The Plume”

Logan tried to look back, catching a glance of brunette and white hair flopping around as Remus struggled. “Remus?”

“You’re awake!” 

Logan could have sworn the pilar they were tied to moved with how strong Remus’s pull on their restraints were. “What is going on?”

“I could ask you the same thing, detective.” That same female voice from the alley made itself present, accompanied by footstapes that echoed through the burnt casino.

Once the girl stepped in front of him, Logan could actually try and take a good look at her. She was young and thin. Her fragile-looking frame and blonde ponytail made her look like an innocent teenager.

“Impressive work you have here.” She dropped one of the pages with a copy of Remus’s search history in front of Logan. “You have no evidence, and yet, you somehow found your way to me.”

“And who may you be? If I’m allowed to know.” Logan looked down at the discarder page, just in time to see a high-heel boot pressing down on it.

The girl giggled, “if you have no idea, how did you follow me all the way here?”

“Thanks to me, darling!” Remus yelled from the opposite side of the column. “You just made such a good impression the first time we met. Heck, you may have straightened me out!”

She scoffed. “I should have known you would be stupid enough to mix us up.”

“Us?”

A loud bang announced the presence of another girl as she walked towards them. “Found this one lurking around, another detective.”

Janus groaned as his captor pushed him to the floor, right in front of Logan.

This second girl was a lot more muscular than the first, but they were the same height and most likely the same age. Given the fact that their faces were identical.

Twin number two, as Logan labeled them in his brain, blew a strand of hair out of her face as she looked towards the tied man. Logan could swear he saw her expression changing for a second the moment their eyes locked, looking almost scared.

The other girl turned to face Janus, pulling on his hair to take a better look at him. Logan could observe the same expression her sister had just a moment ago, once again vanishing as quickly as it formed. She threw Janus back to the floor. “I didn’t know you tried to hook up with the book guy.”

Number two scoffed, “Because I knew you would start acting crazy about it. Sue me for having a terrible gaydar.”

“There’s two of them?! Come on! Can you have this conversation in front of me?!” Remus kicked his legs, as if the pillar would actually move. “You know, where I can actually see what’s going on?!”

“There’s no need.” Twin number one spoke, “it’s not like you’ll be able to testify with your tongue turned to ashes.” She snapped her fingers, and twin number two walked out of the room.

Number one crouched to be eye level with Logan and Janus, who had his hands and ankles tied together. “Looks like someone didn’t believe our murderer’s story and sent you two to snoop around. What gave it away, huh? Did we choose a way too incompetent guy for our bad guy?Is it really so hard to believe that he could murder an Underwood?” She stood up, walking around to face Remus. “I thought he looked the part.”

Remus grinned. “Thanks! The whole serial killer aesthetic is what I try to go for!”

Janus looked over at Logan, shifting his sight between his wrist and the girl who had them trapped once he made sure to have his ex’s attention.

Logan seemed to catch the hint, making sure to look at the girl's wrist once she circled back around to them.

Twin number one chuckled at Remus’s comments. “I thought everyone would overlook that lost puppy look you naturally have. I’m surprised to see I was wrong.”

Logan’s vision of the girl's bracelet around her wrist was limited due to the long-sleeved blouse she wore, but the Underwood’s family emblem was easy to distinguish, so unique and extravagant that it would be impossible not to recognize it.

As twin number two walked in, carrying a plastic gasoline can, Logan was able to take a better look at the bracelet. Matching jewelry with the Underwood’s emblem, accompanied by a golden letter “K” charm.

Janus chuckled. “You thought you were so clever, didn’t you? Shifting the blame to Remus, thinking he’d be sentenced for your father’s death.”

Both twins froze, and number one glared down at Janus. “How did you-”

“That is not important,” Logan stated as he looked up at the teenagers. “That part was easy to deduce, but, why would you hire us to solve the crime you committed?”

Something seemed to click on the twins’ minds as they turned to look at each other. “You hired a detective?!” They asked in unison.

Huh, that solves the double booking question.

“Oh you little shit.” Twin number one reached behind her to grab a gun, pointing it at her sister. “I knew I couldn’t trust you, you wanted to be the only heiress from the beginning.”

“You’re one to talk.” Twin number two placed the gasoline can in front of her, trying to use it as a shield. “Killing dad was your idea. Why arrange this whole ordeal if he wanted only one of us to have his fortune in the first place?”

Number one tsked, not lowering the gun. “You knew what dad’s conditions were. There was no way I would get married before you. Even a gay guy thinks you’re attractive!”

“Nah.” Remus’s voice cut through the twins’ argument as he walked around the pillar. “I was just bluffing.”

Remus gave no other warning before launching towards twin number one, trying to grab her hand and take the gun from her.

Logan and Janus had no time to be surprised at Remus’s ability to free himself, again, they had to figure out how to do it before the fight between the twins and Remus shifted to them. 

Logan made his best effort to push himself up with only his legs, leaning against the column he was tied to for support. Janus, on the other hand, tried to wiggle his ankles free so he could stand.

And then, a gunshot.

Logan closed his eyes instinctively, afraid of what he might find when he opened them. The detective heard a thud, and someone gasping for air, a high pitched voice.

Letting out a relieved sigh, Logan opened his eyes to see twin number two on the floor. Her plan of using the red can as a shield failed as he had predicted, seeing as it laid next to her with two holes on either side, letting the heavy-scented liquid spill out.

Logan expected to hear cries, or any sort of sound from twin number one that showed at least some remorse for husting his sister. But instead, she started laughing. “How is that for weak and defensless, Kara?”

Remus used that moment of distraction to kick number one’s hand, making her drop the gun. Remus kicked it far before she could pick it back up. “You’re done. You will rot in jail like you wanted me to.”

She huffed, looking at the three men. “Oh, I’m so scared. You still think you have the upper hand. How cute.” 

Twin number one ran to pick up the gasoline can, and kept running until she reached The Plume’s main entrance. Having been too distracted by the twins’ fight, they failed to notice the pile of dynamite where number one was now dumping the rest of the gasoline. “My dad and sister wanted to keep me from what’s rightfully mine. Look where that got them. Do you think I’ll have mercy for a bunch of strangers?”

She took out a lighter from her back pocket. “Say hello to my father when you rot in he-”

Remus’s fist shut her up as he punched her in the face. “Why does everyone think dramatic villain speeches work?”

Number one punched back, and they started fighting once again.

The detectives were able to stand up, but Janus still had his ankles tied. He had to half shuffle half jump to Logan. “I’ll try to undo the knot on your hands.”

Logan only nodded, not being able to take his eyes off Remus. He wouldn’t last long with all the damage he had already received, and Logan was trying to find a different escape route or something nearby they could use as a weapon, anything to keep Remus from-

Boom.

.

.

Janus was able to free Logan’s hands before the explosion.

.

.

Logan undid Janus’s restraints once he was free.

.

.

The explosion caused the ceiling over the main entrance to fall, blocking it.

.

.

Remus was on the other side, safe from the flames.

.

Logan covered his face with his hand, trying to stop the fast-forming smoke from entering his lungs. If he hadn’t been able to find a way out before, the flames and ashes made it impossible now.

He felt a hand on his back, Janus’s hand. His ex pulled him down to the floor, forcing Logan to lay on his stomach. “Stay down, we can crawl to an exit.”

“Right, because you’re an expert at surviving fires.”

Janus groaned. “Is now the time to make me feel guilty?”

“We are trapped in a burning building!” Logan yelled, coughing afterwards. “If we’re going to die, I’d say the time is as best as it's going to get.”

“Fine,” Janus spoke after a minute of silence. “If you want us to waste oxygen in this, be my guest.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You wanted to explain, didn’t you? Then explain, Janus. What could possibly be the reason you decided to let everyone believe you were dead, and abandon me?!”

“I didn’t abandon you!”

“Really? Because disappearing for four years and leaving me to grief the love of my life sounds like abandonment to me.” Logan turned around, laying on his back and trying to look up among the smoke.

Janus sighed, trying to find the words to reply, to explain. “I wasn’t supposed to be gone that long.”

“Is that the best excuse you have?”

“Would you let me finish?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Janus coughed. They didn’t have much time for this. “The last case I worked on led me to very dangerous people, all because I followed the clue you warned me about.” That last comment wasn’t to stroke Logan’s ego, it was true. Janus had been stupidly impulsive and ignored Logan’s judgment, and that only brought problem after problem.

“They threatened to hurt you. I tried to get them off my back for months, to collect enough evidence to prove they were guilty, but they only got closer and closer to us. Your brother almost died in an accident they caused. I couldn’t risk them going after you.”

Alright, that was a slightly better excuse.

Logan sniffed and fakely coughed, trying to blame the smoke and heat for his tears. “Why didn’t you tell me? What I said before was true. You and I could solve any case twice as fast.”

“I wanted to protect you and panicked,” Janus rubbed his eyes as they started to sting. “The plan was to have everyone believe I was dead, solve the case and go back to you. But it was a lot harder than I anticipated. I went to you as soon as those people were behind bars, where they couldn’t hurt you.”

“And I didn’t want to listen.”

Janus snickered. “I wasn’t going to mention it, but yes, you refused to listen.”

Logan coughed, for real this time. He could feel his throat aching more and more with each second. “I had never felt such an intense amount of sadness. Every day for four years, I felt like a piece of my heart had been pulled out, as ilogical as it was. I couldn’t logic my way out of it. And when I felt like I was doing better, there you were, a ghost in my doorway. The sadness turned to rage. I suffered for so long, I cried so much, and it was all for nothing. You were alive, and I wasted so much time thinking I would never see you again.” Logan closed his eyes, letting the urge to yell and be angry wash away with the ash that covered him.

“It wasn’t fair to you. I get that. I wanted us to be together more than anything and I didn’t even consider how my decision would make you feel. I thought we could go back to what we had, like nothing happened.” Janus sighed, letting the tears roll down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Logan.”

Logan couldn’t keep talking. His throat hurt, his eyes stung. He could only reach and grab Janus’s hand, weakly intertwining their fingers.

Janus closed his eyes, feeling Logan’s pulse and the way their hearbeats synced one last time.

.

.

.

Logan was awakened by the sound of sirens.

.

.

Janus laid next to him as the paramedics treated them.

.

Remus’s voice kept them grounded. It gave the detectives a reason not to give up.

.

.

And they didn’t

“I told you I knew every corner of that place!” Remus stood next to Logan’s hospital bed, leaving the bouquet he bought in a vase on the bedside table. “I couldn’t let you two in there to die without me!”

-------------------------------------------------------

Logan chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “You are the craziest guy I’ve dated.”

Remus sat next to Logan and held his hand, stroking his thumb over the scars that now covered the detective’s forearm. “But you looove me, like you love Jan Jan!”