Why Why We Do What We Do (18)
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Roman smiled down at the lightly snoring ball of black and purple curled up on his chest, still running his fingers through his hair. That idiot was finally getting the rest he needed. Roman didnât have to remember anything to understand that Virgil shouldâve gone the fuck to sleep well before Roman had woken up.
Roman placed a gentle kiss on Virgilâs forehead.
âGood night, sweet prince.â
Roman let the words hang in the air, the rhythm of his hand through his frien-, no his strange-, no his ex-boyfrien-, his boyfriendâs hair (when he had started calling Virgil that?) began to sooth his, admittedly frayed, nerves.
Not that he was panicking or as wired as Virgil had been to need as much sleep as he needed.
Just-
Though he couldnât remember everything clearly, the last had been a lot. Not to mention his friends-
The hand in Virgilâs stilled as Romanâs free hand twitched, his hand curling into a fist.
I was through a bunch, but what about them? Logan, Patton, especially Virgil. They- had to- had to- see that and not know- They couldnât- wouldnât know if I was alright. Patton- Wait- He was screaming- He- Is Patton okay?
The world strangely becoming blurry, Roman whipped up to see Logan and Patton sat nearby, halfway paying attention to the two, uh⌠lovebirds? Why would he describe himself that way? A tingly sensation sparked in his throat at the strange idea.
Him and Virgil. Wrapped up in each other. Calling each other pet names. Wait no- they already did- But he doesnât remember-
âRoman? Are you okay? Youâre⌠youâre crying.â Loganâs voice cut through Romanâs thoughts, and only then did the growing moistness on his chest consolidate in Romanâs mind into the tears that they were falling from his eyes.
âOh I didnâtâŚâ Roman sniffed, wiping his eyes as well as he could while still cradling Virgil and keeping still as possible. âUmâŚâ
A secondary bolt of fear arced through him as the memory of Pattonâs terrified and concerned scream biting through that weird fuzzy feeling that had cut over him once again surged forward. Â
The hand previously rubbing his face clenched around the hem of his hospital gown. His heartbeat began not only thunder through his ears, but through the whole room as the mechanical beeps from the heart monitor sped up with it.
Out of the corner of his eye, Logan and Patton started to surge forward in response to the rapid rise in the monitorâs beeping. It was such a practiced move that Romanâs stomach clenched and churned hard. They shouldnât have to expect this!Â
Before the situation could get out of hand, Roman let out everything in very nearly one breath.
âPatton are you okay I just realized what happened Iâm so so sorry that you- I- You were so sad and terrified and concerned-â Roman gasped in a breath. âIâm sorry that I made you feel that way Iâm sorry that I- that you thought- that I- that- thatâŚâ
Romanâs voice trailed off as he found himself very abruptly wrapped in Patton arms. How he could do that so perfectly with Virgil sprawled against him, Roman couldnât tell over Pattonâs familiar smell and soft cotton of his shirt. Was it rosemary? Whatever it was, it was⌠he remembered how Patton smelled he-
He opened his mouth to speak, but found Pattonâs finger at his lips. Patton had pulled back at some point, searching Romanâs eyes with his own, the small movement making his eyes appear to sparkle.
âShh⌠youâve said enough untrue things today. Quoting our dear Logan: âCognitive distortions are becoming of you.â Do you trust me enough that Iâll share my feelings?â
Roman glanced away from Pattonâs searching eyes. Suddenly it was as if he was on the operating table and everything inside his mind was there for all to see.Â
Usually Loganâs the one making me feel this⌠observed. Naked? Revealed?
Patton shook his head as he leaned back, pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead. âWait. Iâm sorry Roman, that was unfair of me to ask. Weâre still strangers. I donât know why I-â
âWell⌠thatâs not exactly true.â Roman muttered, thumbing with his hospital gown as a fuzzy memory of what happened when you got an excited Patton on your hands. Ears rung from the squeal for minutes after⌠probably.Â
He screwed his eyes shut, ready for the inevitable freakout.
But they popped right back open as a hand gently took one of Romanâs hands wearing wrinkles into his hospital as they rolled the ends through his fingers. Instead, bringing Romanâs hand to his lips in a vaguely familiar way. Something about⌠cabbages? No⌠definitely not right.
âPatton?â His voice was tiny and small like he sounded when Patton had yelled his name and everything went dark.
Patton lowered Romanâs hand and smiled.
âI understand. Somethingâs changed and you donât have everything. But you know you understand more and you canât tell what you still have missing for me to understand what you have.âÂ
Roman couldnât hold back the tiny gasp that came out of him when Patton lightly squeezed his hand.
And with that, he finally let his eyes snake their way up to find Pattonâs. When he did, that pang of familiarity was back, but even though he had no memory of exactly happened each time he met Pattonâs eyes like that, he could most certainly make a very good guess.Â
The warmth, the softness, the understanding, how could Patton make him feel completely vulnerable one minute and then completely seen but at once still understood and safe.
Maybe⌠maybe⌠it was the memories?
Roman winced. All of the tension in his forehead from trying to scour his memory furiously for the last dozen minutes was forced to relax at once as undoing the action lessened the beginning of a throbbing pain behind Romanâs eyes.
âSorry, I- Iâve been trying so hard to remember that I think Iâve given myself a headache.â
âLogan could you please get the blinds? Roman will need all the help he can get to get the headache back down.â
Roman could barely will himself to open his eyes as simply the clatter of the blinds and Pattonâs hushed sent tiny bullets of pain through his skull.
âBut I still want to- to talk.â As if he had suddenly sprinted through a desert without water, his voice had turned scratchy and rough in an instant.
âOf course. Go at whatever pace you can.â
âWeâre here and we arenât going anywhere, Roman.â Loganâs voice whispered from the other side of him, his hand being held by a warm, lithe hand.Â
Chest rising and falling slowly, Roman let his lungs gather back the oxygen he couldnât remember losing from held breaths.
âYou- I remember you- screaming my name. You sounded so concerned and terrified and it was my fault because of my stupid amnesia. Iâm so sorry Patton.â Romanâs scratchy voice broke, Pattonâs name becoming barely a whisper.
It took another moment for Roman to take in that he had Pattonâs hand against his mouth. The action wasnât forceful, but certainly had Roman second guessing.
âHey, no. Roman.â Cradling Romanâs face in his hand, Patton wiped away tears that had once again surfaced on Romanâs cheeks. âYes I was concerned. And I was terrified. But what I was concerned about was what made you do that. What made you think you were going to die!â
âWait. What?!â Romanâs eyes flew open from where they had slipped closed at Pattonâs contact. However, the loud noise he was making paired with the sudden jerk of his torso sent bolts of pain once again through his skull.
And worse, Virgil made a tiny noise and shifted against Roman as his fingers twitched against Romanâs gown.
âI- I think we should talk about this later, when Virgil can talk about this too. Just- know that the medicine might have made you experience some⌠side effects of remembering things. And that is not your fault.â
Roman opened his mouth to protest, but Virgil once again made the most adorable noise Roman could ever recollect hearing. Even without Pattonâs increasingly ironclad argument, he was finding it harder and harder to think of a reason to argue as his headache had begun to pound those thoughts into the ground and that noise melting into him like liquid chocolate. Pleasant tingles sparked against where Virgilâs handâs were unconsciously twitching
âOkayâŚâ Roman relented. Easing his head back onto the pillow as the figurative fight went out of him.
Not because Patton was right. Definitely not. He just⌠couldnât think with his headache. That was the only reason.
Surely, when it ended, he would tell them how he felt. That he- that⌠that he deservedâŚ
What did he deserve?
He⌠couldnât rememberâŚ














