We Are Going to Be Friends Pt. 4
Okay I’m going to apologize in advance for this chapter It’s like the third saddest chapter in this whole story and the next one is even worse.
Tag list: @datfearlessfangirl @cas-is-a-hunter @princemesscharming @illogicalthinking
Here’s the last part if you missed it and heres the whole series on Ao3
Here’s the Story:
True to expectations, Remus arrived twenty minutes later, looking tired and slightly upset. He ordered a drink, stood at the counter until it was made, then headed over to the table. He glanced around, looking for an available seat, and perked up a bit when he saw the one between Roman and Logan was open. He dropped down in the chair, not saying anything, but fluffing Roman’s hair as he sat. Roman rolled his eyes, but looked at his brother with a questioning look, that clearly conveyed ‘you okay?’. Remus nodded, then said in a hoarse voice,
“Dr. Picani wants to try a new med. Says the current one doesn’t seem to be working right.” Roman winced sympathetically.
“Did you already pick up the new prescription or do you want to walk over to the Pharmacy?”
“I have to pick it up, but I can go by myself, I know you still have homework left.” Logan glanced over at the two, debating whether or not to say anything.
“I don’t know if it’s a great idea for you to walk over there alone, Re. You don’t look so great.” Remus went to argue, gesturing at Roman’s half-finished homework when Logan interjected.
“I can walk with you, if you’d prefer. I’ve finished my homework for the day.” That wasn’t exactly true, but he had finished most of it, and he could do the last few questions when he got home. Roman nodded encouragingly at Remus, who glanced at Logan and gave him a small smile.
“That sounds great, Logan. Thank you.” Logan just nodded, standing up with Remus. He dropped his mug off at the counter before following Remus out the door.
The walk was mostly quiet, Remus humming what sounded a lot like the villain song from The Princess and the Frog. Logan was shrinking more into his jacket with each step. Was this a bad idea? Did Remus not want him to come? He should have realized that Remus wanted to be alone, or wanted one of his actual friends to come with him. Oh god, did he already ruin his first actual attempt at friendship-
“Thanks for coming with me,” Remus mumbled. “And thanks for not asking.”
“Asking?”
“About what the meds are for. People tend to ask, and it always sits weird with me.” Remus shrugged, pulling the pharmacy door open for Logan. “I don’t mind talking about it but I hate the way people look at me when they ask.”
“Remus.” Logan placed a hand on the older boy’s arm, stopping him from walking forward. Remus looked at Logan, confused. “You don’t need to thank me for respecting your privacy, and you don’t owe anyone, including your friends, or family, for that matter, answers to questions that make you uncomfortable.” Remus paled, glancing down to his feet. “And, for the record, if anyone makes you feel like you have to tell them, or like you have to do anything you don’t want to, let me know, and I’ll kick their ass for you.” Remus laughed at that.
“Thanks, Logan. You’re a good friend.”
“Damn right, I am.” Logan grinned, pretending to not be shocked by the softness in Remus’s voice. Or the sincerity.
When they got back to Starbucks, Roman was arguing with a barista. The barista looked amused, arguing back casually while making drinks. When he saw Logan and Remus come through the door, he grinned brightly. “See! I TOLD you I have a twin brother!” The barista looked up, then groaned.
“Okay, fine. So you haven’t had three drinks in an hour. You’ve still had TWO, which is more sugar and caffeine than and one person should have.” Roman pouted at that.
“Ugh, fine. Are you ready to go? I think we’re going to head home and chill for a bit.” Roman asked, looking at his brother and Logan. “Oh, uh... I guess I didn’t actually ask if you wanted to come, Lo. Do you want to-” Logan bristled at the way Roman hesitated before asking.
“No, thank you, Roman. I think I’m going to head over to the mall.” Remus glanced between his brother and Logan, obviously trying to figure out where the sudden tension had come from.
“Oh, are you sure? We have plenty of room-” Logan shook his head, grabbing his bag from where he had left it when he went with Remus and waved casually as he left the building. Clenching his fists and rolling his shoulders, trying to push down the wave of disappointment at Roman’s hesitation. It made sense that Roman wouldn’t want Logan around, but it still hurt a bit to have his suspicions confirmed. He wondered if Roman had only sat with him out of pity. Poor Logan, he doesn’t have any friends, we should try to include him like some weird, ugly duckling adoption program. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the oppressive wave of apathy that was settling on his shoulders like a protective blanket. Better to feel nothing than to be drowned in disappointment, right? He walked into the mall, nodding at his brother as he passed the food court kiosk that he was working in, and wandered towards the hot topic. He wasn’t thrilled about buying anything from such a corporately owned establishment, but he figured if nothing else, they would be playing halfway decent music. He wandered around for a few minutes, finding a Nasa tank-top he actually liked on sale, and setting it up on the counter. The cashier, a teenager probably L’s age, smiled at him.
“Is this everything for you?” Logan didn’t answer, just nodded disinterestedly. Her smile faltered at his dismissiveness, so she rang him up and told him his total- $9.10- and handed him his bag. He nodded at her, wanding back through the mall, quickly letting his brother know he was just going to head back to their parent’s house. Not home, never home, just “Mom and Dad’s place”. His brother nodded, telling him to be careful, and Logan left the mall quickly.
With his headphones on, and his eyes trained on the ground, he didn’t notice that the crowd of preps that seemed to be everywhere he was (Perks of a small town, he supposed. It was hard to miss a crowd of twenty teenagers.) were all sitting in a yard to his left. He also didn’t notice the way several of them called him over, or the way they looked both confused and mildly offended when he walked right past them without even acknowledging their existence. He turned the corner at the end of the block, cutting through his parent’s yard and onto the porch. He hadn’t even made it through the door before he could smell marijuana and alcohol. He groaned, knowing that while his father would almost certainly be calmer now that he was high, his mother would be drunk, which meant she would be far more aggressive than typical. He opened the door and started coughing at the smoke. His father raised his head, vaguely acknowledging his son. Logan looked around, trying to figure out where his mother was, only to figure it out when what was at one point a beer bottle shattered against the wall directly behind him. He jumped forward, turning towards his mother, astonished.
“What the hel-” He started, but cut himself off. His mother was standing, swaying a bit on her feet.
“Where’s your brother?” She was slurring her words.
“He’s at work, mother. He told you that before he left.” He could feel his throat tightening when she stepped towards him. His boots crunched glass as he stepped away from her, his back now against the wall. He was trying to figure out if he could make it out the door before she made her way to him when the second bottle came flying towards him. It, like the first, hit the wall, but the glass shards flew into his face and neck, most of them harmlessly hitting him and falling to the ground, but a few scraped him, and even fewer stuck into his skin.
“Don’t talk- don’t talk back to me!” Logan swallowed around the lump in his throat.
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, Ma’am.” She nodded before coming forward to stand in front of him. Her eyes narrowed, and before Logan could apologize again she slapped the side of his face that didn’t have glass in it. Logan, who was admittedly not expecting that, fell at the impact, his hand that reached out to catch him sinking into the glass. “Fuck!” He groaned, the combination of blood and beer on his skin made him feel nauseous. Or, perhaps, it was the pain. His mother had already left, going back to her previous seat in the kitchen, and Logan was left on the floor, bleeding and trying to keep himself from crying.
