#loceitweek

The coat was a little over-sized—”You’re swimming in that thing,” Remus had complained with a laugh when he’d purchased it. “We can’t hardly see your ass in it!”—but today that was a benefit.

With a small adjustment, he was able to close one side around Patton, banishing the cold. Patton’s little arm slid beneath the coat and he gripped the back of Logan’s suit, smiling. “Is that better?” he asked as Janus tucked the lapel under the toddler’s chin.

Shoulders scrunched and beginning to cry, he shook his head, drawing away from the coat. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Janus said, dropping his hands. “Too close?” he asked.

He kicked at the air—stockinged feet twice striking Logan’s legs—and stared at the coat, simultaneously hiding from it and pushing himself deeper into its warmth.

Janus removed one of his own gloves and touched the coat. “Oh!” he said again. “Too scratchy!” he said and Patton stilled, eyes wide.

“It hurts,” he whispered.

Pulling a bright yellow scarf from under his own coat, Janus offered it to Patton to touch. “Would you like to use this?”

Moving carefully, Patton stroked and pinched the smooth, heavy silk, then smiled. He nodded, watching Janus’ hands as he tucked the scarf between the coat and his neck and shoulders. Janus left the excess close to his hand and Patton grasped it, twisting the material between his fingers.

“Is that acceptable?” Logan asked both of them. Janus didn’t even let him borrow his favorite scarf, let alone Remus who had a track record for spilling ceramic glaze on every textile he got within five feet of.

He'd certainly never lend it to a child.

Patton didn’t answer with words, merely curled closer to Logan, brushing the scarf against his cheek.

“I believe it is more than acceptable,” Janus smiled and pointed north before nodding at Grace, who’d watched the exchange in a stunned fascination. “Our office is two blocks this way.”

“I…” Hurrying to match his pace, she finally found her words. Logan walked behind them down the narrow street. “I didn’t know he could communicate. His file…” She shook her head, looking down at the thick redwell clutched to her chest. “It says he’s pre-verbal. Developmentally delayed.” Glancing over her shoulder, she caught Patton staring right at her and she lowered her voice but not enough that Logan couldn’t hear. “Significantly.”

Janus raised an eyebrow before winking at Patton and Logan as they waited to cross at the corner. “Perhaps no-one was listening to him.”

Janus called Remus on their way, asking him to meet them at their offices with food and whatever weather appropriate clothes he could find for the boy at the Target on his way. “Size?” he said, looking to Grace.

She shrugged helplessly. 

“Ah…” Janus looked closely at the little boy curled against Logan’s chest as they waited for the walk signal. “He’s as tall from shoulder to hip as Lo’s tie,” he said at last. “And skinny.” Remus’ response pulled a low laugh from the back of Janus’ throat and Logan couldn’t help but smile. He was gratified Janus had thought to have Remus join them. Nothing really felt complete without him there. 

“See you soon, love,” Janus said. He paused, glancing at Logan with a smile. “We do, too,” he said, then ended the call. Addressing Grace, he nodded as the light changed. “My husband will meet us shortly.”

~

They waited less than an hour for Remus to appear, tromping into the conference room where Patton had some room to move around without disrupting anyone still working in the offices after hours. A happy whistle—some sort of show tune, if Logan had to guess—announced his presence and Patton looked up just in time to see his mop of bright green hair peering around the corner into the room. "Found you! Reception's gone home already."

"We had every faith in your navigational abilities," Logan chuckled, rubbing Patton's back when he climbed into the chair beside him, peering up at Remus with wide eyes.

Grace looked up from her paperwork. "You got here must faster than I thought you would."

Remus laughed. “I’m just that fast.”

“We all know that,” Janus deadpanned quietly and Logan cleared his throat to disguise his laugh.

“Well I heard there was a hungry little caterpillar here,” Remus grinned, brandishing two giant bags from the Veggie Grill. He set them down the bags on the conference table and began to unpack. The room was soon filled with the rich aroma of french fries and melted cheese, the sweet-sticky scent of their special seared zucchini, and toasted garlic bread. “Wanna come see what looks good to you?” he asked Patton.

Legs criss-crossed in his chair, Patton eyed the packages then looked up at Remus towering over the table.

Head tilted, Remus peered back at him then his smile suddenly grew. Moving to the opposite side of the long table, he took a seat and folded his own lanky frame in the seat, mimicking Patton’s pose. “Watch this,” he said and, holding the edge of the table, pulled himself along the length of it until he was closer to the food.

Giggling, Patton copied him until he was in reach of a stack of wrapped sandwiches.

“Hmm, those do look good,” Remus said, picking one up when Patton selected one. “How ‘bout a drink?”

Remus had brought a half-dozen different kinds of juice boxes and milks. Patton assessed them, touching each and setting them aside before two remained before him. He stared at them both for a long moment when Remus spoke again. “You could have both, if you want.”

Eyes narrowed, Patton watched his expression for a long moment. He reminded Logan of Janus staring down a witness he knew to be lying. Without breaking his gaze, Patton pulled both closer, looking down only when Remus took two matching juice boxes for himself.

“So,” Remus then said, wiggling his fingers and frowning down at his hands. “I like to wash up before I eat. How 'bout you?”

~

A half an hour and four clean hands later, Patton pulled Logan over to sit with him while he ate. Prepared to assist him with his meal, Logan was surprised at Patton’s dexterity with his sandwich wrapping and drink box straw. The only help the toddler needed was a little encouragement to use a napkin instead of his sleeve to wipe up a bit of spilled juice.

Remus and Janus sat across from them and Grace sat adjacently, flipping through Patton’s file as she picked at her own food.

After a few quiet minutes, Grace looked up at Janus, brow furrowed. “How did you guess at—” She stopped, glancing at Patton, then turned the file to show the petition cover sheet.

Janus gestured to the section marked guardian ad litem. “The court-assigned GAL. Devin used to work here," he explained. "We’ve been reassigning his cases. The parent’s name stuck out.”

Reading upside down, Logan scanned the sheet and scowled. “Your client—”

“Oh, she’s not my client,” Grace interrupted, the kind of fire in her eyes Logan had only previously seen when she testified against the worst kind of group home. “Patton is my client,” she said, smiling when the little boy looked up at her, reaching for Logan’s arm. She nodded at him, gaze lingering when, apparently satisfied she wasn’t preparing to take him somewhere, he returned to slowly dipping sweet potato fries in his ketchup. “Given his…” She pursed her lips, brow furrowed as she seemed to reconsider her phrasing. “Some placements are more difficult than others. High support needs. And there are certain… behavioral difficulties. Violent tendencies…”

“You cannot be serious,” Logan began to shake his head but before he could finish his argument, she pointed to the bright red scratches that still adorned the backs of his hands.

He frowned. “That hardly seems fair.”

Grace sighed but shrugged as she finished her drink. “I didn’t say it was fair. It just is.” She sat back in her seat and closed the file. “If he needs a new GAL, maybe you’re right for the job.”

“I can think of no-one who would fight harder,” Janus murmured, then smirked. “Besides me, of course. I am the better lawyer.”

Logan chuckled. “Perhaps in your dreams.”

Making quiet whooshing sounds, Patton had begun to trace swirls of ketchup over his empty sandwich wrapper, loading up the end of a fry like a paintbrush. “Patton,” Grace said sternly. “Don’t play with your food.” She must have caught Logan’s scowl because she quickly added, “Please.”

Not listening or perhaps not hearing, Patton continued, adding a large blob of ketchup in one corner of the dirty wrapper. Remus leaned over the table, watching him.

After a moment, he asked, “Is that the sun?”

Patton beamed but didn’t look up from his work.

Reaching behind him into the ancient messenger bag he brought everywhere, Remus dug around until he came up with a small box of pastels. They weren’t the very first box Logan had bought for him, but neither were they new. “I bet Jannie here knows where we could find some paper if you want to try some different colors.”

Eyes wide, Patton looked up and nodded when Remus opened the box to reveal more than a rainbow’s worth of hues.

Logan pointed to the stack of notepads and printer paper in the corner of the room. “There’s paper right—”

“You are welcome to any blank paper you find in there,” Janus said, gesturing through the glass wall to their shared attorney-in-charge offices before looking pointedly at him.

“Of course,” he agreed, turning to Patton. “Would you like to draw across the hall with Mr. Remus?” They both turned and peered through the open door. “We will clean up here while you do.”

Chewing on his lip, Patton looked at each of them, gaze lingering on Logan’s eyes. Finally, he nodded and clambered out of his chair. He waited for Remus at the door, bouncing on his toes as Remus gathered up his bag and kissed Janus’ cheek. Remus flashed a quick wink at Logan as he rose, mouthing, “Later.”

With her head once again buried in the file, Logan doubted Grace noticed even noticed. He smiled back at Remus as he and Patton left the conference room. Patton walked beside him, eyes down at the thin chains jingling on his boots. He laughed again and copied the sound with each step before plopping down on the office floor, looking up expectantly at Remus.

Finally, Logan turned back to Janus and Grace. Grace was tapping at her phone and Janus… Janus was watching him, a crooked smile pulling up the corner of his mouth. Before he could explain, Grace sat down her phone and sighed.

“The night social worker will be here in a few hours,” she shook her head. “We’ve run out of leads for even an emergency placement for him. He’s too old for Foundling and too young for our contracted respite center. He’s—”

“He can sleep here,” Logan interrupted, momentarily surprised by his own impulsivity. Janus looked back at him, eyebrow cocked. After a beat he nodded.

“He wouldn’t be the first person to sleep here,” Janus said. “Though likely the youngest.”

“I can’t simply leave him here in the care of—”

Daggers shot from Janus’ eyes but Logan spoke before he could. “If his proficiency with children is insufficient as a clue to his qualifications, Remus is a certified respite childcare worker,” he said. “Has been for ten years. Janus and I regularly work with minor clients and have background checks on file with Chidrens' Services."

“Oh,” she said, naked surprise coloring her face. “Of course, I… I see. Well… I will need to confirm his credentials,” she fumbled for her phone but nodded. “That works as a short term solution. I…” Grace looked down at Patton’s file. “But even if his mother bothers to appear in court tomorrow and, given how drunk she sounded over the phone, that’s unlikely.” She shook her head, eyes darting up at the peal of Patton's happy laughter spilling out from their office. “His mother is unlikely to succeed in this petition.”

Logan adjusted his glasses and reached for the paperwork. “What finding, precisely, is the mother petitioning the court to stay?”

Grace sighed again, bowed head accentuating the deep shadows under her eyes. “Termination of parental rights.”

~

One more trip to Target later and they’d equipped Patton with fresh pajamas and underclothes, a toothbrush, and three different flavors of toothpaste to try. Remus had also hefted a second bag and murmured to Logan. “I bought a comb and some detangling spray for his hair, too. I have an idea.”

At some point during their coloring, Patton had noticed Remus’ tattoos and had begun to draw on his own arms with the pastels. Now, while Janus and Grace discussed the case, Logan and Remus worked on Patton’s hair. Blazer and vest shed, Logan sat on the floor with his sleeves rolled up. Patton sat facing him, smearing Crayola markers over his bare skin. He grazed the edge of Logan's braided bracelet with the marker and he froze, hand trembling.

"It is quite alright," Logan said. "They're washable, see?" he added, wiping away the errant mark with one of the hand-wipes Remus had thankfully thought to include. "It's all gone now."

A small laugh bubbled up and Patton resumed his scribbling on Logan's arm.

Remus sat behind Patton, detangling one tiny section of his hair at a time. Spraying the comb first, he then slowly worked it through from end to root, moving up only when the lower strands were free of knots.

Suddenly, Patton hissed, pained, and Remus stopped, dropping the comb. “I’m sorry, Bud, did I pull?”

But Patton was looking down at the scratches he’d left earlier on Logan’s arm, bruises the size of his own little fingertips beginning to bloom in red and purple. Gently, he brushed Logan’s arm and looked up at him with shiny, wet eyes. “You have boo-boos,” he said.

“I do,” Logan nodded. “These will heal quickly. I will be okay,” he said, not sure what else to say to a toddler who’d only just begun to have object permanence. There was little point in reminding the boy just how he'd gotten his 'boo-boos.'

Patton nodded slowly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and Logan’s eyes flew wide open. Though far from an expert in child development, he certainly hadn’t anticipated it was even possible for a child Patton’s age to connect his earlier tantrum with Logan’s minor wounds.

“I—” Logan frowned when Patton looked up at him with more worry than a child his age should ever know. He took his hand and smiled. “I forgive you,” he said. When Patton’s forehead only creased further Logan added with a small smile, “I am not angry with you.”

Gradually, Patton’s smile matched his and he patted Logan’s hand.

“Can I keep going with your hair, Bud?” Remus asked after a minute. “We’re nearly finished,” he said.

Picking up another marker, Patton nodded and resumed coloring Logan’s arms, careful to avoid the scratches. And his bracelet. Logan looked up, again catching Janus quietly watching them. Their eyes met in silent agreement.