I have good news and bad news. Bad news, it's the last day of Roceit Week hosted by @roceitweek2025 😔 Good news, it's the first day of Anxceit Week hosted by @darksideweeks! 😁 So I decided to mix them together for today, ending up with a Anaroceit story with lost of pining. Enjoy!
Summary: Virgil is kinda regretting agreeing to being Janus' groomsman considering he has a big crush on not only Janus but also his fiancé. He really shouldn't worry about it.
Content Warnings: Pining, so much pining
~~*~~
“Darling, you look more nervous than me and I’m about to get married.”
Janus’ voice startled Virgil out of his thoughts. He looked up only to have his breath taken away. Janus’ suit fit him perfectly, the golden shirt complimenting the black of the jacket and made his heterochromia stand out in the best way.
If Virgil hadn’t been in love with him before, he certainly was now.
Too bad he was going to be a married man in only a few hours.
Not that Virgil could blame him, Roman was quite the catch himself. Handsome, strong, talented, willing to worship the ground Janus walked upon. They were frankly as close to a perfect couple as possible.
And Virgil hated how jealous he was of both of them.
When he had reconnected with Janus about a year ago, he hadn’t hoped for anything. At first, he hadn’t even been sure he believed Janus’ wild story about his dad piling him and his mom into their car in the middle of the night without warning because the cops were after him for some sort of shady business. Virgil had been to Janus house many times back then — they’d been best friends after all, which made the sudden disappearance hurt all the more — and his father maybe wasn’t the best guy, but he certainly wouldn’t have thought him a criminal.
But Janus had shown him the mugshots from his father that were taken only days later when the cops snatched them up two states away. Janus and his mother thankfully couldn’t be implicated, but going back to where they came from wasn’t an option either. With no phone to call his own, Janus hadn’t been able to contact Virgil and that had been that.
It was a crazy coincidence that they ended up working in the same city in another state so many years later.
After they started talking again, it didn’t take long for Virgil’s feelings for Janus to resurface. He hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge them when they were both repressed teens in a conservative town and now, he was denying them again because Janus was about to get married.
Just Virgil’s luck.
He really shouldn’t’ve agreed to be a groomsman, but he couldn’t think of any excuse not to.
So here he sat, in a black suit and purple shirt as per Janus’ wishes, fulfilling his duties by making sure Janus wasn’t getting cold feet. Not that there was any real danger of that happening considering how enamored he was with Roman.
Again, Virgil couldn’t fault him. In fact, he was sure that his crush on Roman was going to grow just as much as his crush on Janus had.
He was so doomed.
~~*~~
“So, you nervous yet?”
Roman looked over at his twin, who was lying on the hotel bed with his head hanging off.
“Kinda? But in a good way. I can’t wait to see Janus in his whole outfit; I’ve only glimpsed at pieces of it!”
“Well, neither of you is a bride, so I guess you don’t have to worry about bad luck if you see each other too early.”
A knock on the door stopped Roman from responding.
“Come in!”
Virgil opened the door and peaked his head in. Roman thought he saw him swallow before he spoke, he worried his anxiety may be acting up.
Roman hadn’t known Virgil for long, though Janus had told him stories from their high school days even before he had reentered his fiancés life. After all, he had been a crucial part in Janus’ realization that he might like men more than women. And Roman could certainly see why Virgil had been his awakening, the man was adorable, charming and protective in a way that made even Roman’s heart beat faster.
Thank the gods that Janus and he were both polyamorous and very interested in Virgil. It was just bad timing that he came into their lives when they had just finalized their wedding plans, otherwise they would’ve put the whole thing off and courted Virgil first. But alas, deposits had been paid and neither had the funds to reasonably move their plans just for the chance that Virgil might feel the same.
That didn’t mean they were giving up, just tabling it for later.
“Are you on schedule?” Virgil asked, startling Roman out of his reminiscing. “On our end everything’s good, so I just wanted to check…” he drifted off, the light tint of his cheeks making Roman think he was embarrassed to admit his worries.
“We are perfectly in time, my dark, stormy knight! Thank you for being vigilant.”
“Oh. You’re welcome? It’s not like I did much.”
Roman walked over — mainly to get a closer look at his outfit because, damn, Virgil looked good in a suit — and patted him on the shoulder.
“It’s reassuring to know someone is keeping an eye on things,” he smiled. Virgil’s blush deepened and he nodded.
“Okay, glad I could help then. I’m gonna go back to Janus now!” He spoke quickly and pulled the door closed behind him before Roman could react.
“Wow, you’re down bad for him, huh?” Remus commented and Roman wanted to throw something at him really badly.
~~*~~
Janus couldn’t believe his luck.
He was standing here across from Roman, listening to his vows that were of course super cheesy and over the top, not that he would have it any other way. His romantic heart had been one of the things Janus fell for and of course it would shine the brightest during their wedding.
But he wasn’t the only thing Janus counted himself lucky for.
No, he was also incredibly lucky to have Virgil only a few steps behind him, supporting him in one of the most important moments of his life. Like he had when they were in high school and he’d been the only person Janus truly felt comfortable around. There’d been a tension at his home that he couldn’t explain back then, that now made sense to him, but Virgil had been his safe haven.
And now he was here. As his groomsman. And hopefully soon he will be more than just a friend.
Right now, Janus was going to give all of his attention to the sweetest man he knew, to Roman who was crying through his vows, whose hands he was holding on to with a strong grip, who he was going to spend a lovely week alone with in a nice cabin where it would be just the two of them.
And then he would make sure that Virgil quickly learned that he had two hands and had wanted to take his in his own for so many years. He already had a strong suspicion that the other reciprocated most of his feelings and had an interest in Roman as well by the looks he was giving them when he thought they weren’t looking. Janus had always been able to almost read Virgil’s mind.
But that would have to wait.
For now, he wiped Roman’s tears away as he proclaimed ‘I do’ loudly for everyone to hear.
He’d always been greedy. And he was going to make sure he got all he wanted in the end and make both Virgil and Roman the happiest men on earth.
Warnings: superhero stuff, manipulation (cuz that’s like Janus’s whole power), might have sworn idk
~~~START~~~
Villains were more active on nights and weekends, that was just a fact, so Remy liked to be ready on Friday and Saturday nights in case anything went down. Which meant sneaking out of either of her parents’ homes early and either hanging out in her secret hideout, patrolling the city, or — as she was doing tonight — having a little fun.
Urban exploring was one of her favorite hobbies, and in a city with an active villain population, there were a considerable number of abandoned and condemned locations.
This Saturday night found her exploring a decrepit five-story apartment building in a pretty rundown neighborhood not far from her own abandoned building. There were rumors that this building was haunted, and that malevolent spirits chased away anyone who dared to trespass. She’d heard tell that the few people who actually managed to get into the building (it was boarded up pretty tight) reported hearing strange noises, and seeing apparitions of shadow men following them through the rooms.
And really, was Remy supposed to just hear those rumors and not check it out?
The windows and door on the first floor were all boarded up as promised, but the windows on the third floor looked pretty promising; besides, anybody could access the ground floor, it was the upper floors that were the most interesting — at least in Remy’s mind they were.
She could just fly right up to the windows, but as ever, she wanted to try and preserve her identity as much as possible, even when her surroundings seemed deserted. Instead, Remy walked around to the side of the building where she found an old and rusted fire escape. The ladder was too high off the ground for a normal person to be able to jump to it, but of course a normal person couldn’t fly like she could.
Remy made a jump for the ladder and propelled herself up far enough to look like she’d just barely made it. She continued to use her powers to keep her weight off of the fire escape (who knew whether or not it could actually hold her weight at this point, not to mention the noise it would make even if it could hold her) as she climbed up to the third floor.
The window had seen better days, but it still slid open when Remy tried.
The inside of the building was dark, but she couldn’t hear any noises from inside, so the only thing left to do was to go in.
“Hey there demons,” she whispered under her breath (if there were actual people in the building, she wouldn’t want them to hear her). “It’s me, ya girl.”
<(^_^)>
What was it with weirdos ruining Janus’s alone time?
They had once again been relaxing on the front steps of their building — just like they had been when Virgil first showed up on their doorstep — when some random girl just walked right up to the building.
Now, this wasn’t an unheard-of occurrence, and Janus had scared away their fair share of people who thought they could explore the cool, dilapidated — rumored to be haunted — building; but this girl didn’t even try the front door or any of the first story windows.
No, she went straight for the fire escape.
The ladder for the fire escape was high up. No one could have made the jump to reach it, not even a professional basketball player… but she did.
That had Janus on high alert. The girl must have powers.
(And now that they were thinking about it, she kinda looked like that hero girl — Sandman — except with a different hairstyle, and no sunglasses. Her jacket might have been the same, but it was zipped up instead of open as Sandman usually wore it.)
Immediately they started using their mental illusion powers on her and followed her up the fire escape using the hidden ladder attached directly to the wall. She would only see what they wanted her to see — an old, condemned building — while themself and the others would still be able to see everything as it actually was. It would also give them some control over what she could hear, only her own breathing and footsteps, no one else’s.
The building is old and abandoned, they told her, there’s no one here but you and some rats.
They managed to reach the open window just as she pulled herself through. Hopefully the proximity alarms would alert the others to their guest’s presence, as Janus would be too busy making sure she stayed out of trouble to alert them all themself.
<(^_^)>
The only light was the ambient light coming in through the windows, and since the windows near Remy were facing the alley, there wasn’t much ambient light to be had. She had a flashlight though.
The walls and floors had seen better days, but otherwise, the room she found herself in wasn’t too awful. It was probably a living room once, going by the size and openness of it — not to mention the plain, rectangular coffee table in the middle of it. Along the wall to her left were three doors, to her right was a smooth wall, and in front of her, the room stretched on.
She shone her flashlight straight ahead and caught sight of some half-broken kitchen cabinets and a gap where a fridge would go. Beside the kitchen was another space where two wooden chairs sat — the ghosts of a dining area perhaps.
On the other side of the kitchen, along the wall around where the kitchen area and living area met, there was another door. This one, Remy hypothesized, led out of the apartment.
She directed her attention back to the wall with the three doors — the only part of this apartment that didn’t seem to be completely open-concept — only to find that there were only two doors. Curious, she could have sworn there were three doors.
She swung her flashlight back around, maybe she’d seen another door nearby and gotten confused, but no, there were two doors to her left, and one to her right.
There were no other doors in the apartment.
Huh, must be a trick of the light then. Maybe the light coming in from a window had seemed like a door upon first glance.
(Or maybe it was ghosts.)
Careful to avoid the holes in the floor, Remy made her way over to the nearer door, hoping to find either the bedroom or the bathroom.
<(^_^)>
“She can’t hear us,” Janus assured Virgil once more. “I wouldn’t recommend talking too much or too loudly, but my mental illusions work on sound.”
“She’s going for the bedroom!” Virgil hissed, flapping his arm at the teenager who’d somehow climbed through the window and was now wandering around the third-floor apartment as if she hadn’t interrupted Virgil while he was watching TV. How was this not a major concern?
Even if she hadn’t seemed to register that Virgil was there at all — which made much more sense once Janus had climbed through the window after her — that didn’t mean her presence wasn’t a problem.
“Don’t worry,” Janus replied, much too calmly for Virgil’s taste. “She can’t see the bedroom door. Once she opens the closet, she’ll see a bedroom, but she won’t see the real bedroom, or know that Patton — or either of us — are here at all. She doesn’t even know that the lights are on.”
That was true. She kept shining her flashlight around as though it could possibly make the well-lit apartment any more visible. She’d even shined it right in Virgil’s eyes once.
“Is this normal?” Virgil demanded.
“Relatively. Though most trespassers don’t make it past the first floor. This one, though, seems to be full of surprises.”
Supervillains, Virgil thought incredulously.
<(^_^)>
The first door led into a spacious, empty room, which Remy guessed must have been the bedroom. Wallpaper flaking off of walls, and three hangers still hanging in the wide-open closet on the other side of the room were the only things of note in the room.
It would have been a nice space once. This whole apartment would have been.
Remy wondered what had caused this building to become abandoned. Structural issues? Pests? A villain attack perhaps? Whatever it was, it had left the building in fairly good shape, if someone bought it — unless the issue was structural — they could probably renovate it easily enough.
She left the bedroom and tried the second door. There was nothing interesting in the bedroom, no reason to explore deeper.
As one could assume, behind door number two was a bathroom. The vanity was gone, leaving only a sink basin and piping behind. The door to the shower was missing as well, and the tiles left behind were cracked. The gorgeous — albeit filthy — claw-footed tub still remained, as did the toilet, but the hint of movement coming from within the bathtub discouraged Remy from investigating further.
She did not need to make enemies out of any rats that might be around.
Instead, she decided to investigate the kitchen, see if the previous owners had left anything interesting behind.
<(^_^)>
“Can’t you just… get rid of her, or something?” Roman asked, he and his sister having joined Janus and Virgil in watching the city’s new superhero blindly root around Virgil’s apartment.
“Yeah,” Remus agreed. “Don’t we get people like this all the time?”
“Keep your voices down,” Janus hissed. They could manipulate what Sandman could hear, but it was easier to leave the sounds she should hear if they were just filtering out other quiet noises. “And I can’t just scare her off, she’s a superhero! She can fight back!”
“So, what? Are we just gonna wait for her to leave on her own?” Remus asked, sounding bored by the prospect.
“We could kidnap her,” Roman suggested.
“We’re not kidnapping her; we have enough heroes in his house without adding this one to the mix!”
Janus shot Virgil an apologetic glance, but he just waved them off. “No, I get it. I did this to myself.”
“I have a suggestion,” Logan said suddenly, startling the others and almost causing Janus to lose their grip on Sandman’s reality.
“Where in the name of all things Disney did you come from!?” Roman demanded dramatically, but thankfully quietly.
“The window was already open,” Logan shrugged. “I believe the easier way to quickly lure this hero out of our building is for one of us to go be villainous. It is her self-imposed duty to stop us, after all.”
Remy was just finishing up her tour of the third floor — all the cabinets in the kitchen had been disappointingly empty — when a new alert went off on her phone. Gemini had been spotted at a jewelry store just six blocks from her location.
Show time.
Quickly, she pulled her sunglasses out of her pocket and took off, quickly braiding her hair as she went.
The building had, as far as she could tell from this one story, been pretty boring. The only thing she’d experienced that even resembled a haunting was the door that seemed to have disappeared — though that could have easily been her own imagination, it had been dark, and flashlights didn’t provide the most consistent light source.
No, she probably wouldn’t go back to that building. There was an abandoned mansion on the other side of town that was rumored to be home to a vampire; she’d explore there next.
For now, there was a would-be jewel thief (thieves?) that needed her attention.
<(^_^)>
“You’re not going to go after her, are you?” Virgil asked as he watched Sandman jump out the window.
Her exit had been confirmation of her identity, and Virgil worried what four super-villains, who had had ample time to observe the hero’s clear face, would do. There was no doubt in his mind that Dr. Frankenstein would be able to quickly match a name to the face.
They had all been pretty nice to him and Patton so far, but didn’t exactly pose a threat to them, not anymore.
“We will not,” Janus swore. “You have my word.”
Frankenstein said nothing.
Virgil wasn’t sure what to think. On the one hand, Janus hadn’t lied to Virgil at any point during his stay, but one the other hand, Janus was still a supervillain, and Sandman was a hero who was standing in the way of their goals... Whatever their goals were.
Virgil glanced at Dr. Frankenstein, but the man’s blacked out goggles and blank face offered him no insight into the man’s thoughts.
After another moment of silent deliberation, Frankenstein turned on his heels and walked out of the apartment — using the actual door this time.
“Don’t worry,” Janus assured him in the wake of the older man’s exit. “As long as she poses no threat to our secret identities, none of us will threaten her secret identity.”
“You better not.” Virgil was truly in no position to issue threats, but Sandman was young and — as far as he could tell — under no one’s control but her own; he would be damned if he didn’t do everything in his power — and attempted several things outside of his power — to protect her.
~~~END~~~
Lol back in pt 1 I said there would be at least 2 more parts. I was right, but I definitely meant for this to be a shorter fic
I also said in pt 15 that there were two more parts in this arc, but SIKE! This section will last at least through pt 18 (next part is Logan pov, and then — spoiler alert — Thomas pov, then we move on the section 3, aka ‘The Thing™’
At times like these, Roman almost wished that they had a hive mind with Remus (“almost” being the operative word because at any other time, sharing one mind with his sister would be absolute torture).
But during team strategy meetings — where most of Roman’s contributions would outright ignored as Logan usually just steamrolled ahead — being able to talk to Remus without Logan knowing would be somewhat of a blessing. The word “team” was a misdirect as the three supervillains were not a team; sure, Roman and Remus were a team, but they were identical twins with identical powers and a single alter ego.
In actuality, these kinds of meetings generally consisted of Logan telling them what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. Today was no exception, Logan had a newspaper with the headline Superheroes MIA: Police Take on Frankenstein Alone stuck to his “professor whiteboard” with a magnet and was going on and on about how they should use this momentum before a new hero was brought in blah blah blah.
“Are you even listening?” Logan eventually snapped; no doubt annoyed at the twins’ collective lack of attention.
“Nope,” Roman answered honestly; he’s been hardcore spacing out for a while now.
“Not even a little bit!” Remus replied cheerfully, spinning their chair wildly in the corner.
“This is important!” Logan stressed, tapping the whiteboard with a ruler that he used as a pointer.
“Sorry, teach,” Roman sighed, refocusing his attention on the board. “But we aren’t interested in your ‘take over the world plan’, or whatever. If you want any jewels or something, let us know, but otherwise…”
“If you had been listening earlier,” Logan stressed, honestly, Roman was this close to spacing out again — Logan reminded them of their geometry teacher from high school, berating the class for not understanding proofs the first time through. “Then you would have heard me say that I want you to hit some more unexpected targets in the coming weeks. With no heroes around to thwart us, law enforcement will likely focus their efforts on predictable targets. If we can map our hits strategically, then we will likely be able to get them too confused and jumbled to respond effectively.”
“That sounds sooo boring,” Remus complained and Roman nodded in agreement.
“It doesn’t have to be interesting; it has to be effective,” Logan said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Why don’t you just tell us what you want us to do, Logan,” Janus cut in before the train could get too far off the tracks.
“Ah, yes,” Logan’s demeanor brightened at the reminder that someone was paying attention to his lecture. Roman would tune out, but there was a greater than zero chance that there would be a test later. “I have taken the liberty of compiling a list of what I believe a third party would consider each of our most likely targets; we will all be avoiding these places for the foreseeable future.”
Logan handed out an actual physical list of no-no heists. He then proceeded to go into a lecture on what targets he would suggest hitting and why. It was another hour before he was done and released them all from the meeting; though he and Janus continued to speak in hushed voices in the corner.
Roman was more than happy to leave, ready to go take a nap in his own room, but Remus stopped them on the third-floor landing.
“C’mon,” she insisted, dragging him away from the stairs and towards the door, turning the handle without even knocking.
“Janus said–”
“I’m already in the apartment,” Remus’s voice — though not coming from the Remus that was dragging him through the doorway — said.
There was a second Remus, already in the apartment, standing with their arm wrapped around Virgil’s shoulders.
“We’re best friends now!” The second Remus declared cheerfully as the first Remus reabsorbed into them.
“I think I have Stockholm syndrome,” Virgil deadpanned.
“What!?” Roman screeched, getting them a dirty look from both their sister and the superhero. “You made a duplicate to go to the meeting instead and you didn’t tell me!?”
“Keep your voice down, moron,” Remus chided. “The baby’s sleeping. And it’s not my fault that you’re too stupid to not use your powers for your own personal gain!”
“Oh, we’ll see who the stupid one is!” Roman declared, at a lower volume this time. “En garde!”
He grabbed the first thing he could find that would work as a pretend sword — a spatula — and pointed it threateningly at Remus. Remus, in turn, grabbed a pillow off the couch and swung. Roman managed to intercept the pillow with their spatula, but it wasn’t exactly the sword fight they’d been hoping for.
“Is this normal for you guys?” Virgil asked as he retreated a safe(ish) distance from the twins.
“Yes!” The twins replied in unison.
The fight raged on with both Roman and Remus trying to land a hit without getting hit themselves or tripping over furniture. Eventually, Roman’s heel caught on the corner of the couch, and while he did manage to catch himself before he fell, Remus was there to hit him with her pillow.
“Ah! I am slain!” Roman gasped, stumbling exaggeratedly to their knees. “The world… is fading!”
“Roman!” Remus cried, just as over-the-top. “Don’t go towards the light!”
“Mother, is that you?” Roman whispered, before falling to the floor, dead.
“Geez, Princey, dramatic much?” Virgil drawled; he’d retreated to the kitchen to watch the fight play out from the safety of the island.
“Oh, like you’re never dramatic, Lightcaster?”Roman pouted as they sat up, giving up the charade.
“It’s Knightcaster, and when am I ever dramatic?”
“Oh! Oh! Oh! I know!” Remus volunteered, waving their arm around like they were waiting for a teacher to call on them. “One time, we were robbing that museum that was displaying old clothes and jewelry, and we were creeping around in the dark thinking we were alone and then you suddenly turned on all the lights to reveal that you’d been there the whole time!”
“What about that time you fell off that skyscraper and didn’t teleport until just before you hit the ground?” Roman added.
“Alright fine,” Virgil conceded. “Maybe sometimes I’m a little… extra. I haven’t had friends or even a vacation in almost seven years, cut me some slack!”
“You– you haven’t had friends?” Remus asked, sounding just as gutted as Roman felt. “In seven years?”
“Yeah well,” Virgil ducked his head to avoid the twins’ gazes, face turning red. “Supervillains don’t really schedule their crimes; not with the government anyway. It’s not a big deal, I had Patton, and Orin, and my handlers…”
“So, your list of friends is, in order, your four-year-old son, your husband who you murdered — presumably because he was an asshole — and coworkers you don’t even know names of?” Roman clarified with mounting horror.
Virgil winced. “I know the names of my handlers!”
Remus made a pained noise before launching herself at the hero and wrapping him in a protective hug. “We’re best friends now,” she repeated, leaving no room for argument — not that Virgil looked like he was going to argue; he mostly just looked defeated.
“No offense,” Roman said as he joined the hug, sandwiching Virgil between him and his sister. “But being a superhero seems like it sucks.”
Virgil let out a wet laugh and buried his face in Remus’s shirt.
Remus shot Roman a meaningful look over the hero’s head. Hive mind or not, Roman knew exactly what that look said, and they agreed wholeheartedly: Virgil was in desperate need of friendship, and they were both more than willing to provide it.
Pairings: parental Moxiety, future Anxceit (literally none in this part, I’m just letting you know where it’s going)
Warnings: escaping an abusive relationship, aftermath of violence, blood and injury, murder, abusive government organization
Showing up on your enemy’s doorstep injured and in need of help trope
~~~START~~~
Virgil trudged through the dark streets, doing his best to avoid the streetlights as he went — he couldn’t risk anyone noticing that both he and the child he was carrying were covered in blood. He was exhausted, and his cracked ribs were screaming in protest with every step, but he couldn’t rest yet.
As a Registered Superhero™, Virgil — or Knightcaster, as he was more widely known — was a public figure. He lived in a government-funded home with a government-funded car and government-funded security; his son went to a secure, government-funded daycare; if he ever wanted a dog, he’d be able to get a trained government agent to be his dog-walker. Every aspect of Virgil’s life was funded by the government, and in return, Virgil and his husband (ex-husband?) stopped the city’s supervillains from wreaking havoc. It had seemed like a good deal when Orin — AKA Atlas — had convinced him to do it when he was eighteen.
And for seven years, it had been a good deal. But now Virgil was twenty-five, escaping an abusive marriage, and completely devoid of any kind of money.
Oh and the government was probably going to be after him soon for leaving his residence without permission (not to mention the dead body he’d left in the kitchen).
When he and Orin had signed up to be government-sponsored superheroes, they had to submit detailed lists of their powers, and were subject to thorough physicals to test the extent of them. Virgil’s powers, as listed by the government (and public knowledge to anyone who submitted a freedom of information act request), were light-manipulation level 9, teleportation level 4, and healing level 7; which basically means he’s really good at manipulating light — to the point of even being about to make it solid for up to an hour — alright at teleporting — he can only get to places he’s been to before or can see, and he can only teleport himself, but he can go pretty far — and can heal some pretty bad injuries completely — given enough time and energy.
Actually, all of those powers required a lot of energy, and in his injured and tired state, he couldn’t use them.
But he did have one power that the government didn’t know about, and since it was a mental power and not a physical one, he didn’t need to expend any energy to use it (it would leave him with a massive headache later, but Virgil would take headache over jail cell any day).
His dads used to call it his “homing beacon”, if he spent enough time around a person, he would form a bond with them that would allow him to follow a mental compass right to them. When he was younger he could use this on almost every kid in his class (not that he did), but as he hadn’t seen any classmates since high school graduation, the bonds were gone, faded beyond recognition. He could sense his dads, but they lived two states away, and he’d never be able to make it to them without teleporting — and even if he could, he wouldn’t be able to take his son with him.
His dads’ house was the first place the government would look for him anyway, they wouldn’t be safe there even if Virgil could get them that far.
Virgil hitched Patton a little higher on his hip. The toddler let out a small whimper in his sleep as the movement accidentally jostled his broken arm. Virgil placed a kiss on the boy’s hair, mentally promising him that his arm would be the first thing he healed once they were safe.
With his bonds to dads and any of his old friends either too far away or too faded, his son in his arms, and his bond to Orin severed as soon as that knife had pierced his heart, he was left with only his government handlers themselves, or the supervillains he fought repeatedly.
(And yeah, looking at it now, stumbling down the deserted streets, bleeding and carrying an injured toddler, Virgil could see how being a government-sponsored superhero was actually a crap deal. He didn’t have any money of his own, he had to fill out a thirty-page request form just to see his dads for two hours at a time, and he had no contact with anyone outside of work… It sucked. A lot.)
The government handlers were definitely out (though having a sense of where they were could definitely work in his favor), but the supervillains might not be too bad, they did work against the government after all.
Of Virgil’s repeated villains — and of the ones he thought might not just kill him on sight — there were three real options: Gemini, Dr. Frankenstein, or Serpentine. Luckily, Virgil could feel all three (well four) of their bonds coming from the same general direction, so he could continue moving while he made a decision.
Gemini had the power to duplicate themself, Virgil wasn’t sure how many duplicates they could make, but there were almost always two of them, hence the two bonds Virgil could feel leading to them. Gemini’s usual M.O. was hitting jewelry stores or museums (places with lots of shiny things for them to steal); they had a tendency towards property damage, but left civilians unharmed whenever they could.
Dr. Frankenstein could animate inanimate objects for a short time, as well as being a clearly gifted inventor. The man was cold and logical, but Virgil wasn’t sure which option would be more logical for him: help Virgil, who could be a valuable ally, and potentially give him government secrets; or take his revenge on an already injured enemy.
Serpentine was a master of illusion, both of the light projection, and mental variety. Their motives were a little bit harder to figure out, and as far as Virgil could tell, they were just as likely to rob a bank as they were to destroy a government building; but Virgil had a certain… rapport with them… he thought that they might…
They might not kill him if he showed up on their doorstep.
Patton whimpered again, his good hand gripping the collar of Virgil’s jacket tightly.
Virgil really hoped that Serpentine wouldn’t kill them when they showed up on their doorstep.
~~~END~~~
Part 2, Part 3, Part 3.5
ODD Masterlist
I wasn’t gonna post this until I finished the whole thing, but then I remembered that the whole reason I started posting fics on tumblr was so that I could post things that weren’t done yet
Anyway there will definitely be at least two more parts, so let me know if you wanna be on the taglist
Warnings: captivity, past abusive relationship, discussion of past murder, accidental misgendering (followed by a correction and an apology)
~~~START~~~
“~Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street!~” Patton happily sang along with the TV. It was day four of Knightcaster and his son living in their home — day two of them staying on the third floor instead of being held prisoner in Dr. Frankenstein’s lab — and Janus was still having a hard time wrapping their head around their new housemates.
A superhero in the home of four supervillains! What was this word coming to? Yesterday Janus went to the store to buy clothes for a toddler! (Knightcaster could make do with clothes borrowed from the rest of them, but they’d bought him some new underwear anyway.) someone was watching Sesame Street unironically!
Patton had been given more-or-less free reign of the building basically as soon as he’d entered (though the door to Remus’s floor and the door to Logan’s floor remained firmly locked at all times as neither could be considered “child friendly locations”). Knightcaster — Virgil — was another story; Logan had outfitted the building with sensors that would sound an alarm if Virgil’s power-cancelling cuffs ever crossed through either the doorway to the floor or any of the windows, and tracked his location throughout the building. He was confined to just the third floor, but personally, Janus would much rather be a prisoner on the third floor — with a real bed, TV, space — than handcuffed to a hospital bed in corner of Logan’s lab.
For his part, Virgil seemed rather content with this arrangement — the lack of privacy, that is, the fact that he was surrounded by supervillains clearly had him on guard at all times — even the part where Janus, Roman, Remus, and Logan could and did come and go from the apartment as they pleased went uncontested. The hero never said a word when they let themselves in, never asked them to leave if they hung around too long, in fact, the only thing he had done was ask Remus not to say “ass” in front of Patton, everything else he took in stride. And even when the twins went out of their way to annoy him, he wouldn’t say a word, wouldn’t complain…
Janus wasn't sure if it was because he was a prisoner and therefore felt that he couldn’t complain, or something else entirely, but curiosity pushed them to spend more time than strictly necessary on the third floor.
(And maybe something more than curiosity, shut up Roman.)
Janus had been making lunch (they hadn’t left any knives in the kitchen when they’d baby-proofed the apartment before letting Virgil move in, so Janus had had to pre-cut their ingredients back in their own kitchen) when the twins entered the apartment. The two of them surveyed the scene for a moment — Janus in the kitchen, Patton in front of the television, and Virgil sitting at the dining room table where he could strategically keep both Patton and Janus in view — before making a beeline for Virgil (though not without Roman sending Janus a knowing look).
Virgil glanced at them suspiciously as they both sat down across from him — they’d stopped trying to present themselves as the same person after Patton had spilled the beans to his dad about his new “friends” — and from the mischievous and curious looks on the twins’ faces, Janus could tell what they wanted before they opened their mouths.
Logan had been clear that second night when he’d told them all what Knightcaster had said, and he’d explicitly forbade any of them from pressing Knightcaster for details.
But Logan wasn’t here right now — he was out testing the waters now that the city didn’t have either of their superheroes — and the twins were tired of waiting.
“So,” Remus started, a slightly crazed smile spreading across their face. “Why’d you kill Atlas?”
All color drained from Knightcaster’s face and he quickly glanced at his son to make sure the toddler wasn’t paying attention — he wasn’t.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he hissed.
“Yeah but c’mon,” Roman pushed. “You’re a superhero, he’s a superhero — you guys even worked together sometimes! — what made you want to kill him?”
Remus nodded along enthusiastically. “Yeah, was he corrupt?”
“Are you corrupt?”
“Possessed by a serial killer?”
“Tired of sharing the spotlight?”
“Catch him stealing jelly beans?”
“A Soviet spy?”
“A French spy?”
“A Canadian spy?”
“A Californian spy?”
“A Korean–?”
“That’s enough!” Janus snapped. Virgil looked just about ready to shake out of his skin, and the eight extra twins crowded around the table surely weren’t helping.
“Sorry,” Roman offered sheepishly, his duplicates reabsorbing into him.
Remus pouted, but followed suit, sans apology. “We’re just curious,” she defended, addressing Janus rather than Virgil.
Janus held her gaze, a silent warning.
“Whatever,” she huffed, breaking the contact.
“I don’t. Want. To talk. About it,” Virgil gritted out a second time.
“Spoilsport,” Remus mumbled under their breath.
“Well, can we ask you how you become a government-superhero?” Roman asked, glancing at Janus. “Is that allowed?”
Janus just shrugged, it wasn’t like the question was actually directed at them, and they didn’t see any problem with asking.
“I don’t know who you talk to initially,” Knightcaster answered slowly. “But basically you submit an application like you would for any job — except that this application focuses heavily on your superpowers and not your previous work experience — and once your background check or whatever goes through, you’re escorted to a facility where they test the limits of your powers and assign you a level for each of them. If they like your powers and levels, they’ll bring you several long contracts to sign, and poof! you’re a superhero.”
“What? Just like that?” Remus asked, wrinkling their nose in disgust.
“Well there’s a year of training before they send you out in the field, but yeah, basically.”
“What kind of training?” Roman pushed, leaning forward in interest.
“Well there’s combat of course, some power-specific training, tactical training, a law course,” Virgil listed, his posture ever so slightly relaxing as he spoke.
“Law?” Janus perked up at that last one; they themself were technically a lawyer — when they weren’t a supervillain that is — and often took on cases pro bono.
“Yeah, that one was the most like a normal class. It was–”
“Daddy, I’m hungry,” Patton announced suddenly, toddling over to the table and climbing into Virgil’s lap.
“I’m almost done making lunch,” Janus announced before Virgil could reply. “I made you a grilled cheese.”
“Thank you miss Janus!” The toddler replied politely.
Janus twitched. “Just ‘Janus’ is fine, thank you,” they said tightly.
“Buddy, you have to ask people what they want to be called,” Virgil explained softly.
“Oh, ‘m sorry,” Patton said as Janus placed a plate with a sandwich on it — whole since there weren’t any knives to cut it with — in front of him.
“I accept your apology. ‘Janus’ will be just fine; M. Janus if you’re feeling formal.” Janus returned to the table with a large bowl of pasta salad and four smaller bows for the adults to eat from.
“Okay!” The toddler cheered before turning his gaze onto Roman with all the seriousness he could muster — which was not much. “What do you want to be called?”
“Roman is just fine, young one, but I also go by prince Roman!” Roman declared grandly.
“Are you really a prince?” Patton asked, eyes wide with excitement.
“Yeah,” Remus muttered under their breath. “The prince of sucking a–”
There was a bang as Roman kicked them under the table.
“–pple… pops? Yeah, apple pops! They really like popsicles!”
“I like popsicles!” Patton informed them, thankfully oblivious to her original meaning. “Daddy, when we go home can we have popsicles?”
“…sure kiddo,” Virgil answered slowly grimacing. “We can have popsicles when we go home.”
“I like popsicles,” Patton continued blissfully. “They have popsicles at the park that look like daddy and papa.”
Three sets of eyes snapped to Virgil at that and the hero’s shoulders hunched protectively. The toddler continued on, unaware of the bomb he’d just dropped.
“Miss Sophie says we’re going to the park on Wednesday, maybe she’ll let me have a popsicle. I can’t wait to go to the park, they have a slide there that’s so tall that only the big kids can go on it…”
Patton continued telling them about the park — Janus didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was Thursday, and he’d no doubt missed his opportunity to go to the park and have a popsicle with Knightcaster’s face on it — but no one was listening anymore. Virgil held Patton in front of him protectively, as though the child could protect him from the questions he could see sitting on the tips of the villains’ tongues.
As soon as Patton finished his sandwich, Virgil stood, taking the toddler with him. “Y’know, it’s nap time for Patton, and I think I’ll take one too. Good talk guys, see you later!” And with that, the superhero and child disappeared into the only bedroom on the whole floor, shutting the door firmly behind them.
“I like him!” Remus declared after a moment.
“At least you know he’s single?” Roman tried, watching Janus carefully.
“I mean killing your abusive husband? Hot!”
“Okay, time to leave,” Janus said, ignoring both of them and shooing them out the door.
“Boo!” The twins jeered, even as they left.
“Why do you think Atlas was abusive?” They heard Roman ask as the two of them ascended the stairs towards Roman’s apartment.
“I mean, have you ever met him? He’s an asshole!” Remus answered right before a door shut, cutting off their voices.
Janus sighed to themself and got to work cleaning up the dishes. They’d probably have to tell Logan about this; they didn’t have much of a plan about what to do with Knightcaster yet, but this was probably relevant information to take into account.
They’d also see what Logan’s thoughts were on building a small playground on the roof. No special reason, just cuz.
~~~END~~~
I’ve been trying all morning to scrape up enough focus to edit, no dice, just take it
Pairings: little bit of Anxceit in this one. Kinda cute
Warnings: PTSD, blood, injury, broken glass, past abuse, Remus being Remus (taken from canon)
~~~START~~~
It was late evening when Janus got back home. They’d had to follow Simon Anderson’s after-work routine until they got off his usual bus at his usual stop, then they entered an alley and walked back out as themself. Then, to work off some of their anxious energy, they’d walked back home.
Plans had to be made, reconnaissance needed to be done. It took Janus months to be able to confidently replace Simon Anderson! To replace someone even higher up the totem pole? Could take at least a year.
They would have to get Logan involved now; at the very least they needed some of his gadgets in order to properly bypass security. A little extra help could cut down planning time as well, which was good because the way the plan was unfolding in Janus’s mind, it could lead to Virgil being to walk free.
Which is what they wanted.
Obviously.
They wanted Virgil to be able to leave… and never come back…
Ok, walking hadn’t gotten rid of all their energy, they needed to talk to someone.
No one answered when they knocked on Remus’s door. They tried a few more times, but still no one answered.
That was annoying. If Remus was out, Roman was probably out too, and with neither of them to talk to — and with Virgil excluded for obvious reasons — the only person left to talk to was Logan.
And he’d made his opinions on Janus’s feelings very clear.
Still… talking it out out loud would help them dispel their remaining nervous energy and possibly come to some kind of understanding about their own feelings. So Logan it was.
Mind made up, Janus made their way up the cursed cursed stairs — fuck Logan for living at the top floor, and double fuck him for insisting that an elevator was not necessary.
They had just reached the third-floor landing when they heard the sound of shattering glass coming from behind the closed apartment door.
They hesitated for just a moment before gently rapping their gloved knuckles on the door.
“Virgil?” They called, knocking again. “Are you alright?”
Nothing.
“Virgil?”
They pressed their ear to the wood hoping to hear anything that would let them know that Virgil was ok, but all they got was a faint, broken sob.
The rule about knocking was their idea, and despite being a villain, they didn’t like breaking promises, but in this situation, where someone could be hurt, it was necessary.
“Virgil, I’m coming in.”
With still no answer, Janus opened the door.
Upon first glance, nothing seemed amiss. Upon second glance too.
Neither Patton nor Virgil were anywhere to be seen, and the only evidence that anyone was even in the apartment was the broken sobs coming from behind the kitchen island.
“Virgil?”
Virgil was kneeling on the floor, shards of broken glass surrounding him. His hands were bleeding.
Gingerly, Janus lowered themself into a squat, careful to keep any part of their body other than their feet — still protected by shoes — from touching the glass-ridden floor. “Virgil? Can you hear me?”
No response.
Unsure of what to do, and hesitant to touch the hero while he was distressed, Janus created an illusion of a purple rose right about where they thought Virgil’s eyes were pointed. The rose opened and closed in a slow rhythm, the hope being that Virgil would eventually match his breathing to the rhythm, consciously or not. This continued on for a while before Virgil seemed to attempt the breathing exercise.
Relatively assured that Virgil was beginning to calm — at least a little bit — Janus turned their attention to the full scene before them.
Patton was still nowhere to be seen, and given the time, Janus hoped that he was already tucked in bed and unaware of his father’s episode.
The glass shards most likely came from a drinking glass that either got accidentally knocked off the counter or else got dropped on the floor. The glass shards were the cause of Virgil’s bleeding, and would definitely need to be taken care of as soon as possible.
“Virgil?” Janus tried again.
This time he received a whine that landed somewhere between a hum and a groan. Good enough.
“Virgil, may I touch you?”
Another whine.
“You are in the middle of a pile of broken glass, and I doubt you’re wearing shoes. The safest way to get you out is for me to pick you up, is that alright?”
A third whine. Normally that wouldn’t be enough for Janus to take as consent, they really needed to relocate the hero.
“Okay,” Janus whispered, slowly walking around Virgil and wrapping their arms around his waist. “Up!”
He was heavier than the last time Janus lifted him. One the one hand, that was good, it meant Virgil was filling in; but on the other hand, strength was not Janus’s… strength, and dropping Virgil onto broken glass was probably worse than just leaving him there.
Staggering more than a little bit, Janus managed to move Virgil away from the glass shards and get him situated on one of the dining room chairs. Throughout the whole process, Virgil hardly made a sound, and only moved when prompted by Janus first.
They left briefly to grab the first aid kit out of the bathroom, when they got back, Virgil was in the same position they’d left him: hunched over, palms open, slowly dripping blood onto the floor.
They grabbed a bowl from the kitchen, then came back to kneel in front of the unresponsive ex-hero, careful to avoid the pool of blood.
“Virgil, I’m going to use these tweezers to pull the shards of glass from your hands, is that alright?”
They got the barest hint of a nod in return.
Good enough.
Janus started the rose illusion up again where Virgil could see it, but it wouldn't obstruct his view of what Janus was doing, then got to work.
Eventually, Janus was fairly certain that they’d gotten all the glass out, and as Virgil showed no signs of healing his hands on his own, Janus disinfected them and wrapped them in bandages. They stood up with the intent of cleaning up the raining glass in the kitchen, when a bandaged hand suddenly shot out and gripped their shirt-sleeve.
“Don’t go!” Virgil begged, finally meeting Janus’s eyes. Tears were rolling down his cheeks freely, causing Janus’s heart to constrict. “Please!”
“I won’t,” they promised, kneeling on the floor once more. “I’m not going anywhere.”
One of Virgil’s hands was still gripping their shirt tightly, so Janus took his freehand and entwined their fingers together.
“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. You’re safe now.”
Virgil shook his head. “I’m not though! I can’t– I want to go home.”
“I’m sorry.”
Janus felt helpless. They had the beginnings of a plan, but it would be months until they were ready to put it into action, and then possibly years before it paid off… if it ever did.
They wanted to be able to help Virgil, and to help people like him; and if Virgil decided that he wanted to never see them or any of the others ever again, then they wanted him to be able to make that choice.
Virgil fell asleep eventually, exhausted from his episode. Janus departed for a minute, but eventually decided it was worth it to move him to the bed (plus, carrying him bridal style was easier).
Patton was sprawled over the mattress with the comforter pushed all the way off the bed when they entered. Janus laid his father alongside him on the bed as well as they could without disturbing the toddler or smushing any of his limbs.
Patton stirred for a moment, and Janus thought they might have failed, but all he did was curl closer to his dad and settle back down. Janus breathed a sigh of relief before grabbing the comforter and laying it over the pair.
Back in the living area, Janus got to work cleaning up the broken glass, mopping up the drying blood, and returning the first aid kit to the bathroom. By the time they left the apartment, the only evidence of what had happened were the bandages still wrapped around Virgil’s hands.
Their nervous energy was now well and truly depleted. They felt exhausted, but they didn’t want to be alone.
Remus answered Roman’s door on the second knock.
“Hey, Snakey.”
“Hey. Where’s Roman?”
“Ugh, that hero girl hit him with her sleeping powder whatever and he’s still out cold. I don’t want them to wake up alone, so I’m eating their food.”
Janus nodded. “Wanna watch a movie?”
“Absolutely.” Remus opened the door wider, allowing Janus to enter. “You look awful.”
“I’m just drained,” they replied. “Don’t ask any follow-up questions, and I’ll make it look like whatever you drew on Roman’s face while they were out isn’t washing off in the morning.”
“Deal!”
Roman was laid across the large couch in his living room, so Janus took one side of the remaining love seat (which luckily had a clear view of the TV), and texted Logan while Remus raided Roman’s kitchen once more in search of movie snacks.
We’re having a movie night at Roman’s, do you want to come?
They received a reply less than a minute later.
I will be down momentarily.
Logan strode in just as Remus returned with a bowl of popcorn, a tub of cottage cheese, and a small bowl of salmon dip.
“Hey, prof, there was a shitload of expired food from the fridge just sitting on Roman’s counter earlier, know anything about it?”
“No,” Logan lied smoothly, sitting next to Janus.
Remus laughed, placing the food on the coffee table and grabbing the remote before laying across both of their laps. “What do we want to watch?”
“Anything,” Janus replied as Logan shrugged.
“Okie dokie! Self-immolation videos it is!”
“No,” Logan responded, taking the remote from her. “We’re watching MythBusters.”
“Can we watch the one where they bury pigs under cement and their neighbors all complain about the smell?” Remus asked, batting her eyelashes pleadingly.
“That is acceptable.”
“Yes!”
Janus drifted off to sleep to the sounds of scientific explosions.
~~~END~~~
And finally, after four chapters, this day is over
It’s amazing how many words deciding to add one more scene can add, I was at like 1100 and then I thought but what if the baddies all hangout too :)
I’ve made a decision about the plot of this fic moving forward (which I won’t tell you since it’d be a spoiler, but after the fact, I’ll let you know what it was) that will hopefully mean it’ll be easier for me to write going forward (I’m very happy with this choice, it flows better than my original plan)
I think there are two more chapters in this section (section 2 out of 4 if you’re trying to keep track), but I’m not against adding another filler chapter if I feel like more emotions need to be fleshed out (maybe another Patton!centric chapter idk)
Warnings: mentions of murder, anxiety attacks, Remus being Remus (while also trying to be child-appropriate)
~~~START~~~
Virgil startled awake to the sound of knocking at the apartment door, just barely managing to catch himself before he fell off the top of the fridge. Once he got his bearings, he stared at the door, expecting someone to open it without waiting for an answer.
No one did.
The person knocked a second time, but still didn’t enter. Virgil reached out and found Janus on the other side of the door. He waited, but instead of just entering without an answer, or knocking a third time, they left.
After waiting a few more moments — to make sure that they actually left and didn’t seem to be coming back — Virgil tentatively lowered himself to the floor. He crept carefully up to the door and pressed his ear against the wood. Nothing.
He opened the door to find a note taped to the outside. He grabbed it quickly and shut the door again.
Virgil,
I just wanted to check how you were doing. I’m sorry about yesterday, the twins won’t bring up Atlas again. If you need anything just holler
– 🐍
Virgil stuffed the note in his pocket. The apology was appreciated — everything that Janus especially had done for him since he came here was appreciated — but the promise was not believed. Not for lack of trying, but he very much doubted that anyone could actually corral the twins for longer than five minutes, especially not with something as interesting as Virgil’s relationship with Orin dangling in front of their faces like a carrot.
Still, a five-minute reprieve would be better than nothing.
Not quite sure what else to do, Virgil started on his and Patton’s breakfast. Usually, Janus would have let themself in, or the Doc would have, or even the twins — for some reason, none of the villains were very inclined to let Virgil cook for himself (he couldn’t cook, but they didn’t know that) — so this was a new experience for him. He knew that there was a bag of pancake mix in one of the cupboards that had instructions on the side… it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?
The first pancake was awful, he hadn’t let it sit for long enough before flipping it, so one side was way undercooked. Then, to try and correct the mistake, he left it sitting on the other side for far too long, burning that side and almost setting off the fire alarm — almost.
The second pancake was much better.
Encouraged by his success, Virgil managed to make a whole stack of passable pancakes by the time Patton toddled out of the bedroom.
As they ate, Virgil felt uselessly at his papa’s bond; he and dad were so far away — still at home though, he took a tiny bit of comfort that they were at home; nothing had happened to them. He wasn’t sure how the future was going to play out, but he really hoped he’d be able to go home again sometime, rub his pancake success in dad’s face — that is, assuming papa hadn’t managed to make a fully-fledged cook out of him by the time Virgil saw them again…
After breakfast, Virgil got out the colored pencils that Roman had donated and some paper and set Patton up to color. He’d been just about to sit down with him when someone started knocking on the door.
Continuously.
He opened the door to find Remus grinning at him from the other side.
“Snakey said we have to knock from now on,” they said, bouncing up and down on their toes excitedly.
“Uh, okay?”
“Can I come in?” They asked, genuinely waiting for Virgil to answer before moving — more considerate than he would have expected.
“Sure, I guess,” Virgil stepped aside to let the supervillain in. “We were just coloring, weren’t we, Pat?”
“Uh-huh!” The kid replied, briefly looking up from his drawing to smile at Remus.
“I love coloring! Can I join?” Remus asked, batting their eyelashes cartoonishly. “I won’t even draw dicks this time!”
“Uhh…” If it weren’t for the dick comment, Virgil wouldn’t have been concerned about what Remus would draw at all, but as it was, he was worried about what she might show his kid. “Only if you keep it PG.”
“Ugh! Fine.” And with that they took a seat across from Patton and started on their own drawing, carefully shielding it from Virgil’s view until she was done.
“So,” Virgil started. Conversations were hard on a normal day, but normal went out the window nearly a week ago, and Virgil wasn’t sure how to casually talk to a supervillain who was unusually quiet as they concentrated. “What are you doing here? And without your brother?”
“Franky’s holding some boring house meeting,” Remus explained chipperly, adding a concerning amount of red to her drawing.
“Shouldn’t you be at the meeting?”
“I am at the meeting!” Remus crowed. A duplicate sprang from their form to emphasize their point. “Ro-bro’s too dumb to remember he can be in two places at once.”
“She said a bad word!” Patton tattled, pointing at Remus seriously.
“It’s rude to point, kiddo,” Virgil said as Remus mumbled out a small apology, their duplicate reabsorbing into them.
“Okay,” Patton said, accepting the apology, as well as the reprimand, and going back to his drawing.
“So, what’s the meeting about?” Virgil asked.
“Well Franky went out to play yesterday, and now he wants to talk about it or something,” Remus explained. “Oh, and also this!”
They pulled a newspaper out of their back pocket and handed it to Virgil.
Superheroes MIA: Police Take on Frankenstein Alone the headline read. Virgil fought off a wave of nausea.
“The Gov released a statement earlier pronouncing Atlas as dead,” Remus continued. “There’s a city-wide day of mourning tomorrow.”
“What about me?” Virgil asked, the world was beginning to gray slightly, and he knew a panic attack was starting to build.
“Officially MIA, nothing calling for your head though; they’re making you out like a victim.”
“Hmm.” Was that a good thing or a bad thing? On the one hand, it might be good to not be outright called a murderer, it could mean they were willing to forgive him and bury this whole thing. On the other hand, maybe publicly being a murderer would be better; it could increase his odds of getting a public trial rather than just being vanished — officially MIA forever. That being said, even if he had a public trial, he would probably end of going to prison for a long time. Or–
His thoughts were spiraling quickly out of his control — too many unknowns, too many possibilities.
“Do you want to see my drawing?” Remus’s voice cut through his haze of anxious thoughts. He stared blankly at them, but they didn’t seem bothered as they held up their drawing for him to see. “It’s me electrocuting my brother!”
Remus’s drawing was indeed a rudimentary drawing of a green stick figure Remus using her nonexistent electricity powers to zap a red stick figure Roman. There was also, for some reason, a large pool of blood beneath Roman’s figure despite the fact that electrocution wouldn’t cause that much — if any — bleeding.
Virgil let out a startled snort as the ridiculousness of the drawing snapped him out of his spiral. Remus grinned.
“Daddy! Look at mine!” Patton insisted, shoving his own drawing in Virgil’s face.
Virgil pushed the paper back a little so that he could actually see it. There was a yellow sun smiling in the corner and green scribble grass at the bottom. A short light blue stick figure (Patton) was holding hands with a taller purple stick figure (Virgil), and an even taller orange stick figure (Orin). Next to Orin were Roman and Remus as red and green stick figures, and next to Virgil were yellow and dark blue (most likely Janus and Frankenstein). Orin and Dr. Frankenstein were the only stick figures not smiling.
“There wasn’t room for Miss Sophie,” Patton explained, pointing out a pink pencil sitting off to the side of his other colors. “And maybe pop pop and grandpa should be there too… Can I have another paper, daddy?”
“Sure buddy.”
“Oh! Oh! Oh! Me too!” Remus said, bouncing in her seat and waving her hand in the air.
“Sure, everyone can have more paper,” Virgil chuckled, handing out more paper from the stack.
“I’m gonna draw Roman getting hit by a car!” Remus told them enthusiastically.
“A tree!” Patton suggested at the same time Remus said “a graveyard!”
“A tree in a graveyard!” Patton gasped excitedly.
“A tree in a graveyard it is.” A graveyard was his aesthetic after all.
“Yay!” Patton and Remus both cheered.
As they all got back to work on drawing, Virgil realized that his anxiety — both about the newspaper and about his son being so close to a supervillain — had subsided considerably. He glanced at Remus out of the corner of his eye, wondering if they’d done it by accident, or if they knew what they were doing.
~~~END~~~
I’ve made an ODD Masterlist with links to every chapter and every character design
Warnings: gray-morality, mentions of death and murder
~~~START~~~
The city’s law enforcement was in turmoil and it wouldn’t be long until everyone knew. The media would cover Dr. Frankenstein’s bank robbery — not Logan’s usual target, but he was more trying to suss out the situation than actually further his own gains — and the lack of superhero intervention surely would not go over their heads. And once the media covered it, civilians and villains alike would see that, for some reason unknown to them, Atlas and Knightcaster were both MIA.
After that, Logan surmised, the government would be forced to release a statement — though whether they picked the truth or some sort of lie was anyone’s guess. They’d probably choose a mixture of both: Atlas was dead, but Knightcaster didn’t kill him.
No, it would be a while before a new, reliable normal was established. Until then, Logan would try to keep the others from taking any drastic risks. Cornered animals were at their most dangerous after all.
After entering through the parking garage and dropping off his equipment and lab coat in his lab, he made his way up to his apartment — where Janus was waiting for him.
“Ah, good afternoon, Janus.”
“So?” Janus asked, straight to the point.
Logan appreciated Janus immensely; they were intelligent, punctual, and forward, and until recently, his only complaint about them was their habit of excessive sarcasm, which could make their words hard to decipher at times. They were a favorite pupil of his back when he was a professor, and his most trusted ally as a villain.
Of course then they’d developed a “crush” on Knightcaster — an infatuation that had (at least partially) led to the man living in Logan’s home. It wasn’t an arrangement that Logan was a fan of, but it did have the potential to work out favorably for him, so he allowed it.
For now.
“The police shot at me,” Logan replied casually. They had shot at him, yes, but Logan’s lab coat was bulletproof, and was satisfactory at protecting him from any shots that would have otherwise struck true.
Janus’s eyebrows shot up. “They’re panicking,” they observed evenly.
“Indeed. They know that they’re no match for us without their superheroes and have taken to desperate measures to try and stop us.”
“This is definitely an ideal situation.” Sarcasm, probably.
“Considering Atlas was often actively trying to kill us,” Logan observed. “I find this to be a lateral step. I will add more bulletproofing to everyone’s suits, but my main concern is what they’ll come up with when they’ve had more time to plan. I am not a fan of unknown variables”
“And it’s not like it’s only a matter of time before they transfer a new superhero to the city,” Janus added. “Even if we were the only three supervillains in town, we’d be more than enough reason to find a replacement quickly.”
Logan hummed his agreement. As annoying as Atlas and Knightcaster had been, at least they were known variables. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t know.
“We will need to be careful with our plans for the foreseeable future. That being said, I think we can make this work for us; if we hit some more unexpected targets…”
Logan was already forming a rough outline of a plan, but he’d need to work out some of the finer details before it was ready to be shared. He wandered towards the bathroom to shower while he plotted, leaving Janus to let themself out.
It was always nice to shower after a mission, wash away the sweat and grime. Return his equipment to the lab, shower, make tea, read: that was Logan’s post-crime routine — and of course debriefing with the others if necessary (as it had been today). Half an hour later he emerged from the bathroom — clean, dry, and fully dressed — to find Janus still in his living room.
“I would have thought you’d left by now,” he commented dryly, bypassing the living room in favor of the kitchen to make his tea.
“Atlas and Knightcaster were married,” Janus informed him, watching him closely for his reaction, as if this were a particularly significant revelation.
“The twins?” Logan asked, placing the kettle on the burner.
“Patton spilled the beans, actually.”
“Hmm. Well, I suppose that gives him the means to murder Atlas,” Logan mused as he put together a serving tray with tea bags, teacups, and cookies. “Though it hardly changes anything. At most it is an interesting tidbit.”
“‘It hardly changes anything’?” Janus demanded. “So, what? You don’t think this is a massive bomb that’s been dropped on us?”
“No, actually, I don’t. No matter why, or how, Knightcaster killed Atlas, it does not change the fact that he knows where we live — and can apparently track us wherever we go — and therefore cannot safely be released. Unless he told you that he killed Atlas to begin his life of crime — which I would be hard pressed to believe, considering he had not said so in our initial conversation — then this is merely a piece of trivia: interesting, but ultimately useless.” The kettle came to a boil, so Logan added it to the tray. He placed the tray on a serving car and placed his hand over the cart. The cart emitted a faint blue glow for a moment before wheeling itself into the living room, coming to a stop next to Janus’s chair. Logan grabbed a jar of Crofter’s and a spoon before heading to the living room himself — Janus may be his best friend, but Logan was not about to share his jam with them, especially when they were being so obtuse.
Janus had already made themself a cup of tea, and was glaring at Logan as he entered.
“Your personal feelings aside,” Logan continued. “Knightcaster’s relationship to Atlas does not change the fact that we cannot safely let him go, and we cannot feasibly keep him here forever.”
Janus deflated, glaring half heartedly into their tea. “We can’t kill him.”
“No, we cannot,” Logan agreed. Morally, Logan wasn’t against killing per se, but orphaning children was a whole other line that, as a father, he couldn’t bring himself to cross. “We will have to come up with another solution.”
~~~END~~~
A little shorter than the other chapters, but whateves, at least I wrote it so it doesn’t jump from part 4 to part 6 anymore
