#winter!patton

“What even IS that,” He whispered, staring at the letter. “Ok, ok- um, maybe she’ll like... maybe a rocking horse? ah- no that’d be too big, I don’t think the parents would forget that- A doll is always a safe bet-”

“Santa?”

Patton stiffened. This is what he gets for talking to himself. Patton turned, smiling at the little girl as he leaned down to her level. “Hello little miss- uh-” he spared a glance to the letter, “Miss Jemima, is it? Whatever are you doing up?”

She tilted her head, “You’re younger than I thought.”

Patton smiled, nose crinkling as he restrained a laugh, “No kiddo, I’m just older than I look. I’m a good several thousand years old you know.”

The girl grasped his cheeks and pushed his cheeks up so it made crinkles around his eyes. She nodded decisively, “Ok.”

Patton laughed and pulled his face out of the child’s hands, “It’s very late, Miss Jemima, I’d think you’d be asleep.”

“The bells woke me up.” Jemima said, eyes fixed on the small set of bells that adorned the red outfit Patton wore (despite the fact that red was more Roman’s color than his).

She gasped, “Where’s the reindeer?”

Patton’s eyes widened. As much as he liked to indulge the imaginations of the world, he was not about to use all his energy to take flying reindeer of all things around a global trip. He just blipped across the world like he did normally. But- He pointed to the roof, and ever so slightly dropped the intimidate temperature so the wood in the roof of the house creaked. Close enough to the sound of the shuffle of hooves above them.

The look of wonder in the child’s eyes was worth it. She hopped, exclaiming ‘oh!’ a few times, and raced into another room before running back in with a couple of carrots and a few cookies. “For the reindeer! And for you!”

Patton shook his head, “Oh, oh, I don’t- I don’t need anything, kiddo, I’ve got all I need-”

Jemima frowned, “But-” She raised her collection towards him, practically pouting.

Patton sighed, shoulders falling, “Ok, ok. Just one cookie though, ok?”

“Are you suuure?”

Patton bobbed a little before shaking his head, “I am feeling a little dangerous-” She tilted her head and Patton extended a hand, “Alright, I’ll take a second cookie.”

The girl dumped the carrots into his hands and then topped the pile with two cookies. Patton laughed. “Thank you very much, little miss.”

In a gentle motion, he sent the collection back home- hopefully Logan or Roman could figure out a way to use the carrots-, after snatching one of the cookies from the pile.

He glanced down at the girl’s letter as she looked at him with wonder in her eyes. He glanced back up, “Now, um, I don’t have what you asked for, and I apologize for that, but, is there something else you’d really like?”

Jemima shook her head. She looked down at her feet before gasping, “Wait, can you make it snow?”

Patton startled, blinking. “Can I- what?”

“I wanna be able to play in the snow! That way it can be a ‘White Christmas’! I haven’t had one before! Can you make it snow?”

Patton glanced out the window. He could change up the usual weather plan, just this once... Patton smiled, “I can most certainly do that, kiddo. Anything else, at all?”

She shook her head.

Patton nodded, “Alrighty then, one White Christmas for one Miss Jemima.” He opened his palm a sparkle of frost coating the glove as he summoned a small snowflake. Jemima clasped her hands around the flake, melting on her palm as she opened her hand to look. Patton giggled.

“Look outside.” Patton directed.

Jemima raced to the window, as she looked out to the sky, the gentle flutter of snow curling through the sky.

He took a bite of his gifted (now incidentally frozen) cookie as he stood up, watching the girl’s amazement. He glanced down at his feet, and nodded to himself, and stepped backwards into the doorway back home.

“Thank you S-” Jemima turned, looking up to find her Santa Claus missing. Jemima glanced down at the floor, a light layer of slowly melting frost that curled from around a pair of boot-prints. The only proof he’d been there at all.

-

Roman probably shouldn’t be in Patton’s Room. Snowdrops seemed to follow him as he walked through the snowy room, and he half wondered if his presence would somehow hurt Patton.

Roman rubbed his arms. He just needed to find something... He’d be in and out and- Ok. He just... missed Patton. He can admit that. The idea was simple. Patton kept so many things, especially from the humans he’d befriend, and it helped him when he could no longer see them so, maybe something of Patton’s would help him.

That said, he was usually only in Patton’s room with Patton. It felt a little weird to be here alone. He eventually found the main portion of his room, Patton’s bed was blanketed (ha, pun.) with a layer of snow, untouched. Roman glanced down to the foot of the bed to see a small wooden chest. He’d seen Patton take out extra blankets from that before. Patton wouldn’t mind if he borrowed a blanket. He’d bring it back later.... after his own room stopped being cold. How did Patton ever sleep in this cold of a room?

Roman brushed the layer of snow off the chest, and let out a soft laugh as he discovered it looked a bit like a Christmas present. Roman undid the latch and lifted the lid, glancing over the contents.

Roman tugged out the largest of the blankets inside, pressing the soft fabric against his face. The blanket smelled almost overwhelmingly of pine and spruce, likely from being in the wooden chest so long, coco, and a faint hint of some spice- maybe cinnamon? Whatever it was, it was familiar. And vaguely comforting. Roman let out a soft breath and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. Yes, Patton wouldn’t mind if he took it for now. He’d give it back when Patton came home. (Because Patton would come home. He just would....right?)

Roman moved to put the chest’s lid back, but- Was that the old cloak Patton wore during the 4th Century?

Roman dusted off the garment, most of the color seemed to have faded, having once been a pretty red. Patton always looked pretty good in red, in his opinion. (Although, he also just liked that color a lot, so maybe he was biased.) It was so much smaller than he remembered. Heavens, how old were they all during the 4th Century? Patton had to be maybe 10 in human terms? He ran his fingers over the cloak and glanced at what it had rested above-

“Oh.” Roman rested the old cloak atop one of the other blankets in the chest, looking over one of many letters, neatly folded. He pulled out one of them.

“Dear Santa Claws,

How are you? I hope you’re good!! I didn’t get to say thank you for the snow last year! Me and my friends made bunches of snowmen, and Papa took me out to go sledding! If you can, I think it’d be really nice to see more snow this year too. One of my friends said they don’t get Santa, they have a bunch of candles though. Do you do something else for them? Oh, and, Mama said that I probably didn’t get what I wanted last year because you didn’t know what it was! Sorry! This year I think just a fluffy puppy stuffy would be good!! With the spots! And if you can’t get one, I don’t mind! I think more snow would be just great. Or... maybe a bell, if you have extra? They were really pretty. Thank you! I’m gonna set out more cookies and food for the reindeer this year, I hope that’s ok. Oh! And what’s their names?! Give them hugs for me!

Thank you!

Jemima”

The letter was signed with a little heart at the end of the child’s name. Roman glanced over the other letters and laughed, “Oh, of course you’re Santa.”

Roman frowned, folding the letter and replacing it. He covered them again with the cloak and he shuffled through the rest of the chest. He eventually uncovered a red outfit, more fit to an older Patton.

Roman tugged on the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He leaned his cheek against the blanket, “When did you stop being Santa, too?” Roman whispered.

Virgil gave a lopsided smile, and turned towards the doorway with a two-finger salute. “See you later, alright?”

Logan nodded, the crease in his brow was back. He adjusted his glasses, shaking his head. He let out a soft huff. “You don’t have to say that every time one of us goes out,” he said, trailing off as his eyes returned to his schedules and plans. 

“Yeah, I kinda do,” Virgil muttered to himself as he shut the doorway. He glanced up at the sky, sighing into the chill air. He weaved his way through patches of oranges, reds, and golds. Fingertips brushing old branches, the wind shaking out old leaves in his wake. He mused the possibility of a thunderstorm for the night, although, it might just happen on its own accord, considering his mood. 

He sighed, pausing in front of the lake, a spindly layer of ice webbed across it. Virgil leaned back into the air, staring up at the grey clouds hanging overhead. “You’d think you’d be close by, given how cold it is already.”

Frost crept around him, almost gentle and curious. Icy cold fingers braced against a tree. 

One sure would think.

Virgil kicked at some of the leaves on the forest floor, hands in his pockets… He swapped his cloak for a hoodie, Patton noted dully. That must’ve taken some courage. Virgil had had that cloak for ages. Patton wavered against the tree he’d hidden behind, watching Virgil, looking over the familiar terrain. 

“Logan’s not… handling it too well. Despite what he says. I, kinda offered to take over, at least for a little, but he’s stubborn as always. Maybe he thinks I’ll worry myself into an ice age. Maybe he’d be right. Heh. You know I’ve never been the best at keeping myself in check.”

Virgil slumped against a tree, “Roman’s not much better. Actually- I think he’s hiding something…” An ominous rumble curled through the sky, “Or I’m just overthinking. I mean, he hasn’t changed much, just complains even more about Logan doing his job wrong.” Virgil laughed a little, “If that’s possible.”

Patton shifted and hit his head against the tree he’d been against, listening to Virgil ramble. 

“Isn’t this the part where you try and get me to see the bright side or tell a silly joke or something? Frick, what’s that term I heard- somebody called it something and I- Dad joke- somebody called ‘em a dad joke. I think you’d like that. ‘M not sure if it’ll stick, I think it’s kinda silly… but then again, so are the jokes.” 

Patton smiled, soured with melancholy. Yeah, he liked that. He missed this. Meeting up in the crossover between their seasons, talking about everything and nothing. He missed Virgil’s rumbling voice, and the shuffle of leaves underfoot. 

Distant thunder rolled overhead. Patton glanced up and frowned. Virgil sighed. “Well I guess that’s been decided for me.”  

“I- I’m trying, Pat. I’m trying.” Virgil leaned forward, glaring out at the ice, “Maybe if I stay out longer, Logan’ll rest more. I- I don’t know what I can do for Ro. Logan’s gotta see him more often anyway so maybe he’ll figure something out... Yeah.” 

Patton nodded to himself, avoiding thinking about how if he’d just come back- No, no they had each other. They’ll be fine. They had to be.

Virgil had gone silent. Patton was half sure Virgil would call him out, demand he reveal himself. Patton wasn’t sure he knew how he’d react if he did. The air was still. Stiff.

“And I’m talking to the air,” Virgil huffed eventually, quiet. “Cause you don’t stop by here anymore…. I-”

Virgil tapped the tree beside him briefly, he whispered something under his breath. He was gone with the rustle of leaves and a rumble of a storm overhead.

Patton covered his mouth and twisted his eyes shut. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so so sorry.”

That night, a spattering of hail crashed onto the streets while the wail of wind and boom of thunder crashed together in a thunderstorm. The following rain lasted nearly a week.

A dreary downpour that had little hope of breaking.

-

The sky wasn’t clear by any means, but it was bright. The air was brisk. Clouds fluffy and light.

“And the seasons, they go ‘round and round- and the painted ponies go up and down-” A voice sung softly, crystalline clear.

Virgil glanced around, turning to find the singer wandering toward the frozen lake.

“We’re captive on a carousel of time- we can’t return we can only look behind- from where we came- And go round and round and round in a circle game-”

“Well that’s depressing,” Virgil huffed, albeit a smirk had found its way onto his lips.

Patton gasped, “It is not! It’s a story about growing up and looking back. Reminds kids to take their time to grow up, since time doesn’t slow down.”

“See, case in point. Depressing.”

Patton shrugged, scrambling over the fallen log to sit and oversee the view. “Well I think it’s cute.”

“Why do you keep coming back here?” Virgil asked, taking his place next to Patton- next to the human.

Patton smiled, “Too see you, silly. Plus- it’s pretty. I like this spot. There’s.... memories here.”

The air seemed to sharpen, just a bit. “Like what?”

“Oh, I hung around here lots as a teenager! There was this one time when I thought it’d be a good idea to try and kinda- half skate on the ice- I didn’t really have skates, but the ice was slippery so it was kinda like skating- I almost fell in actually-” Patton waved his arms around, gesturing , “I know that was a dumb idea. But it was fun!”

Virgil leaned on his elbows, shaking his head, “If I was there-”

“I’m almost certain I would’ve been able to rope you into it,” Patton said a smile plastered onto his face.

A giggle fluttered through the wind, rustling the sparse leaves hanging onto the trees. Virgil nodded, resigned. “Probably.”

Patton sighed, smiling to himself, “I don’t know- It’s- kinda been an Always Spot, you know? I feel like I’ve known this place forever. And it’s just where I like to be, especially during the Fall, when it’s getting cold and the leaves turn pretty colors- and Now I just so happen to also like to check to see if you stopped by, too.”

Virgil nodded, tugging on the edges of his hoodie, “That’s- that’s nice Pat.”

“It would be easier if you actually, ya know, told me when you were in town.”

The rolling in of clouds had been slow, gentle. Smell of fallen leaves surrounded them. “I mean- I have my ways of saying so.”

“Mm, somebody should get a phone.”

“I’m actually not sure if that would even work where I live.”

“It’d work in town at least!”

Virgil shook his head, “We’ll see.”

Silence was comfortable. The air was a soft sort of chilly. Patton’s breath fogged into the air when he gasped. He crinkled his nose with a little smile and glanced up at the sky. “Well hello, Winter.”

Virgil took in a sharp breath, eyes wide as he glanced over at Patton. A snowflake fluttered down onto his nose. He glanced up at the sky himself. “Oh. Yeah.”

Patton rubbed his fingers together, warming them up. Snowflakes nestled into his blond curls like they belonged there, seeming reluctant to let him go. Which- Virgil could understand.