Summary: Four men. Four cities. Four countries. One father. One company whose main goal is to hunt them down. To survive, they must accept who they are and live as one.
Word Count: 3226
Warnings: Extreme pain, swearing
Pairings: Platonic LAMP, Logicality, Prinxiety
Huge thanks to @paperghastly for helping me figure out this story and talking to me about sense8 (psst you all should go watch it cause it’s a funny, interesting, diverse as hell show that deserves a season 3).
Thomas didn’t even know pain like this was possible. He had heard from his mother that giving birth, whether to an actual child or a new cluster, was the most painful thing any living being could experience, but this… this was far worse than he’d ever imagined. Cramps, pulling, pushing… it wasn’t even hurting him physically but it was just…
He groaned as another wave of pain washed over him and he clutched at his bed sheets, biting the inside of his mouth to muffle his screaming. He missed his Cluster. They would have been right there for him, holding his hands, making sure he was with someone as he went through this… but he was alone, not sure when the pain would end.
When was it going to be over? When was the pounding in his head going to end?! When?! WHEN?! WH-
Suddenly the pain released and he sat up, an involuntary gasp leaving his throat as he caught visions of his children. A smaller cluster than most, but there they were...
Four young me of the same age, down to the second. All of them were completely ignorant to the fact that their lives had just changed for the better in less than a second.
The first -Virgil- was standing behind a register, talking to a customer about some sort of product. His hair hung in purple-dyed bangs over his eyes, which were a dark blue and complemented by the dark bags indicating lack of sleep. The customer said something that made Virgil’s temper flare and as opened his mouth to respond, his eyes locked with Thomas’. There was a flash of confusion, recognition, fear, and love, before Thomas was ripped away from his first born to the next.
A young man danced across a stage, the violins and pianos dictating his movements to even the smallest footstep. Roman seemed so at home in the spotlight and the others seemed to bend to his will. He began to stop in the center of the stage, preparing to do a spin before running off-stage, but then he saw Thomas standing right in front of the orchestra pit. The same emotions dashed across his face faster than he could process and just before Thomas was whisked away, Roman stumbled.
This one was hunched over a pile of papers that were spread out evenly and meticulously, so Logan didn’t lose a single one in the mess. He was completely alone in the room but Thomas’ sudden appearance hadn’t even drawn a glance from his second-youngest. He stood there for what seemed like hours, completely ignored by the man until something deep within him made him look up. Emotions he was obviously not used to danced across his features and he looked as if he was about to explode with questions, but by that point, Thomas had been taken to see his last child.
This one was sitting in a library, helping one of the students read new books that had come in earlier that day. Patton was listening to the child intently, making sure to answer ever question calmly and giving compliments whenever they were deserved. One of the little girls said something that made Patton laugh heartily. As he calmed down, he looked up and saw Thomas standing, completely unnoticed by the other children and staff. Unlike the others, Patton had all the same emotions except fear and the second before Thomas was pulled away again, he saw the faintest of smiles upon his face.
Thomas gasped as he returned to his body, the pain now a lingering sensation and his emotions stronger than ever before. He collapsed into his bed, tears were streaming down his face. He knew that they came from the pain he had just endured, the relief that it was finally over, and the overwhelming realization that in this new world, they’d be safe.
Virgil collapsed in the back room of the store, rubbing the space between his eyes. He couldn’t think of a reason that this headache had decided to bug him other than the annoying customer he just had to deal with yesterday. She had gotten on his nerves to the point that he had spent a full hour last night writing down insults about her… maybe staying up late was why he was suffering.
“You good?” Hartly asked, hanging up his vest.
“Hella bad migraine,” Virgil responded, digging around his bag for a bottle of Advil. “I think I stayed up a little too late last night.”
“You stay up late every night,” Hartly responded, “so tonight, just get some actual sleep, alright?”
Virgil grunted, dry-swallowing the pills and leaning his head against the cool locker door. Some store nearby was playing piano music (was that Into the Woods?) and although it was muffled by the walls. There weren’t any costume stores nearby or any stores that would have reason to play a musical, so as soon as he was clocked out, he went walked around the area to find the source of the music.
But this brought absolutely no results. The sound stayed as muffled outside as they were inside and no matter which way he went, it didn’t seem to grow any louder. He was so confused and was getting annoyed at the music. It was a lot like having a song that stuck in his head that he hadn’t listened to in years playing on repeat in his head.
Finally, he simply resigned to his fate and drove away from work, trying his best to drown out the musical with his own music. As he sat at the light, the music just seemed to grow louder and louder. Soon, he couldn’t take it anymore and groaned louder than the music before turning up My Chemical Romance and pissing off a few drivers around him.
However the source of Virgil’s annoyance was dealing with almost the exact same thing across the sea in Britain.
Roman was fighting through so much in order to keep his performance perfect. The migraine, the music stuck in his head, the annoyance building in his head. All of that was leading to one of his worst performances ever. He kept stumbling over his feet, and not enunciating his lines enough, which ended up confusing everyone else and extending the rehearsal time. As soon as they finished the first act, his director came up to him as he took a water break and simply glared at him for a few seconds.
“I know… I know…” Roman muttered. “That sucked a lot…”
“Roman, I’ve seen you dance far better than that while sick with the flu!” His director sighed and sat down next to him. “Yesterday, you claim to have seen someone right next to me and today, it’s a headache, music stuck in your head! The show goes on in two weeks, so if you haven’t gotten control of this by then, Jared is going on instead, alright?”
Roman felt a pang of anger and jealousy, but nodded. “Got it. I’ll try but first, do you have any Advil? If I had some, I might do better.”
His director nodded. “Yeah, in my bag backstage. You got fifteen minutes, Roman.”
Roman smiled and went backstage as quickly and as quietly as possible, not wanting to draw attention to himself after such a horrible performance. As he took the pills, he glanced up at the wall-sized mirror that actors used for makeup and costume touch-ups. What he expected to see was his own reflection of a lean, middle-aged man with a golden tan, thick, wavy brown hair with dark green eyes. Instead, there was a pale stick of a man with thin brown hair that hung over his eyes and was tinted slightly purple. His skin was almost sickly pale and when he looked up at Roman, his eyes were the most magnificent color of brown Roman had ever seen.
The man yelped in surprise and suddenly, Roman was was in the theater but at the same time, he was sitting in the backseat of an American car that had just swerved due to the other’s man fear. The man took deep, steady breaths, keeping his fearful eyes on the road while as he paced in the mirror in front of Roman. The simple stared at each other in fascination and confusion, in the makeup mirror and in the rear-view. Neither knew what to say. Whatever was happening was too much for either to comprehend and yet… it felt as if it should be happening.
“Who are you?” the pale man whispered. “H-How…”
“How should I know?” Roman asked, adjusting his seat belt as he sat in front of the mirror. “I’m just as confused as you are…”
The man opened his mouth to say something.
“Roman?” Roman blinked and the car was gone, his reflection was back to normal and his director was standing in the doorway, looking a bit confused. “What are you doing?”
“I-uh…” He looked around, not seeing the man anywhere, so quickly formulated a lie. “I was just sitting here. I thought there was a rip in my pants so I sat down to make sure there wasn’t.”
“Alright then…” His director shook his head. “Well we’re going to get going again, alright?”
“Has it really been fifteen minutes?” Roman stood, his headache returning with a vengeance as his attention was pulled away from the strange man.
“Yeah. Let’s get going so you can hopefully do much better than you were doing earlier.” His director held the door for Roman and even as the mirror disappeared, Roman still felt like he was being watched, followed… as if he would never be alone. And across the border, one young man was thinking about his experiences, feeling the exact same way.
Over in Germany, a young man was still hunched over his papers from the night before. The only difference was now he was hungry, he had a migraine, and he was trying to sleep. But none of these were more important than his work. He knew he should be studying but he was so, so tired… but without the studying, he might not pass his class. Sleep vs study. Sleep vs study. Sleep vs…
He shot up again and accidentally knocked over his textbooks.
“Shit,” he muttered, leaning down to pick up his stuff. As he did, he felt a sharp hunger pain in his stomach. He groaned and looked at the clock, realizing it had been a while since he last ate something more than an apple.
“Might as well make some dinner.” He stood and placed his textbook with the rest before heading into the spotless kitchen. He pulled out a package of tortillas, cheese and butter to make some quesadillas for himself since he had nothing else to eat. As the butter began to sizzle, Logan found himself humming a song he had ever heard but he somehow knew the rhythm and lyrics too. It was definitely American song based on the lyrics and how sexual they were, but he rarely even listened to his area’s music, so how could he know this song?
The smell of burning butter brought him out of his thoughts and he shoved the pan off of the stove, momentarily forgetting that it was a burning hot, metal pan.
“Shit!” he shoved his hand under the sink and wincing at the stinging pain. How could he have been so careless to have burnt himself? Across the world, three other men felt the burn and winced, clasping one hand over the other in response.
In a small kitchen in Canada, a young man almost dropped his plate of eggs as a sudden pain flared up in his hand.
“Ow!” Patton cried, regaining his balance.
“You good?” his brother asked through a mouthful of breakfast.
“Yeah, yeah, fine, Dee,” Patton said, sucking on the area for a second before sitting down, nodding his head to the Ariana Grande song Declan was blasting through his speaker. “Just one of those moments where you suddenly get pain for no reason, you know?”
“Sure,” his brother replied. “How’s your headache by the way?”
“Oh it’s gone now,” Patton lied, not wanting to upset his brother anymore.
“Good. I didn’t want to go out and get more Advil,” Declan said, sipping his coffee.
Patton tried to brush that off so opted to smell the freshly cooked eggs. As soon as he did, he started coughing and waving his hands in front of his nostrils. “Do you smell burning butter?”
Declan sniffed the air as well and shook his head. “Nope. Sure you’re not going crazy, Pat?”
But he had already gotten up, following the smell right to the stove. “Aw, I must’ve burnt it while I was making breakfast. Shoot.”
He walked to the cabinet to get some Febreeze and sprayed it all over the kitchen.
Logan stumbled back as his sense of smell was overwhelmed with flowers and clean towels.
“What is happening?” he whispered.
Patton looked at his brother as he poured ketchup into the side of his plate for the eggs. “What do mean what's happening? I'm making sure it smells butter.”
Declan opened his mouth, realized the pun, but still said, slightly concerned, “I didn’t say anything, Pat. I might need to get you to the psychiatrist soon.”
Patton frowned but shrugged. “Must've been the radio. Anyways, let's eat!”
Declan nodded and the brothers continued their breakfast in silence.
Hours later, Roman retired to his bed, script in hand despite how tired he was from today’s horrible rehearsal. The headache was still going strong and he just hated everything in his life right now. Too much going on, too much work, too little sleep… it was all building up to be a difficult night of script studying for him.
“Agony… far more power tha-” His voice cracked and he growled in agitation, throwing the script down on his bed and gripped his hair so hard that a few strands parted with his scalp. “God damn it!”
He took a deep steadying breath and as he did, heard it repeated by the man sitting in the corner of Roman’s room and at his own crowded desk. The two looked at each other in shock, not sure how to react. This one had a little more meat on his bones, with thick, well groomed hair and piercing blue eyes that clearly said that anything he did meant business. It was dulled slightly by the stress building up behind them as well as the fatigue and confusion brought by hours of this… how did Roman know that?
“Again?” Roman asked. “Are you real? Am I going crazy?!”
“I don’t think you’re going crazy, as you are not the only one confused and questioning their sanity,” the other man said. “You’re getting these… flashes as well?”
“Well, yeah. I said ‘again’, didn’t I?” Roman sat down on his bed but stayed standing in the other man’s room. “Where am I?!”
“You’re in Dresden, Germany. And I thought it was implied that I do not know either,” the man said, adjusting his glasses and standing up to walk over to Roman’s bed. “But either way, you are not the only thing I have been… seeing today. Smells, sights, sounds, feelings, tastes. Did you feel a burning in your left hand earlier today?”
“Yeah… are you suggesting that we’re mentally connected or some shit?” Roman asked.
“Roman?” The two jumped as Brian, Roman's roommate walked in. He looked into the room, slightly confused about something other than the complete stranger sitting next to Roman on his bed and at an extremely crowded desk. “Who are you talking to?”
“Uh… I'm practicing lines,” Roman said, grabbing the papers beside the stranger and waving them frantically. “See?”
Brian nodded slowly. “Okay… did you happen to see where I put my keys?”
“They're in the fruit bowl as always, Brian,” Roman said. “Before you leave… out of curiosity, is there someone sitting next to me?”
Brian looked through the man and shook his head. “No. Why? You seeing ghosts?”
“I mean, no. I-” Roman blinked once as he turned to face the man again, but he was gone, along with the desk. “No… I'm not seeing anything.”
Brian pursed his lips and nodded, slamming the door shut a little harder than he had meant to.
The sound made Virgil jump and snap his laptop shut and Patton almost drop yet another dish. The two took deep breaths as they looked around the room in fear. It was a dark, angsty decorated bedroom and than a bright, open kitchen parallel to a sitting area occupied by one other person. Smells, dish soap and unwashed laundry; sound; running water and music… Sights, soap and shadow. A young man with purple bangs and a kind one with curly bronze hair. The two studies each other curiously, not in one place or the other, but still making contact.
“Patton?” Declan asked, snapping his brother out of his daze. “What's up now?”
Patton shook his head and looked around. No doors, no new room, and certainly no stranger with bangs. “I thought I heard a door slam. And… gosh I am tired. I thought I saw someone in here…”
“Probably a neighbor looking forward to getting inside,” Declan said, turning a page in his book.
Patton looked around once more. “Okay. After I'm done with my dishes, I'm going back to bed.”
“Sounds great, Pat,” Declan replied, not looking up from his book. Patton themed back to his dishes, but Declan still read his book, or so Patton thought.
If Patton had turned around and truly taken notice, he would have seen that Declan’s movements were small and short so he could have a secret conversation with someone only he and three other people could see like this.
“He's acting a lot like we were,” Declan said, watching his brother clean and his body sit there, barely moving. “Headaches, random flashes of senses. He wanted to listen to Ariana this morning rather than Spongebob! And he saw someone, Emile!”
“I thought you hated listening to that every morning?” Emile smirked at him, to which Declan made a face. “You know what I mean. But you have to admit, the similarities are there!”
“Siblings can both be born a Sensate. Kaitlyn did have a biological sister who was one too,” Emile responded, sitting on the nearby counter without dead of being seen by Patton.
“But if he is-"
“Dee.” Emile stood, sounding both serious, calm and encouraging in a way only he could sound. “From what you've said about him, and from what we've heard from the others, we know that a) he will tell you if you ask and b) you are both one hundred percent safe from BPO. Jonas and Angelica’s last Cluster made sure to that over a year ago.”
Declan sighed, crossing his arms and looking at his younger brother. “I won't jump to conclusions just yet. Maybe he's just got a headache and he's tired.”
“Two options is better than one,” Emile said. “Listen, I got some sessions today, so I'll talk later.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Dee said and the two returned to their homes and families, the worries of tomorrow quenched for now.
So yeah! I love sense8, and I love Sanders Sides, so when I thought about Lito and Hernando possibly being Roman and Logan respectively, it eventually became this! Thanks to @paperghastly for helping me think of ideas for this and cook it into what you see!
What I really mean: I fucking love the show Sense8. It's beautiful and unapologetically gay (and LGBTQ & race representative). What gets me is, how can the Sensates be a different species??? "Homo Sensorium" is such a clever idea to explain how the 'sensing' works but?? A species is a group of organisms which can interbreed to produce fertile offspring- different species, by definition, cannot reproduce successfully... So like that would mean that both of each of the Sensates parents must also be Homo Sensorium? Or even using the idea that Angelica 'birthed' the cluster- when she gave 'birth', did she alter their genes to make them a different species? Like how tf does that work. I'm sorry I'm like this but if someone would give me an explanation (regardless of how 'likely' it is) that would be much appreciated.
Will’s dad was able to connect with him in the moment before his death because he was an unborn homo sensorium. Will is a sensate because his father is a sensate. His father stayed stubborn and unborn until his very will allowed him to be born because his only wish was to see his son. And he did.
