Summary: The aftermath of Patton leaving. (This one's a little jumpy, so the beginning is obvi a little later than the bulk of the chapter sorry, I didn’t like the way it looked around the other way and wanted to preface where Virge is at first.) (Darwin is my Deceit btw)
Word Count: 3365
Relationships: All platonic stuff, kinda parental analogical.
Previous Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen,
(because I know this has problems, look up the tag ‘adventures in dading’ or ‘dad Virgil’ on my blog archive and you’ll find all of them)
Tags: @katatles-the-fish @karma-the-tax-collector @analogical-mess @rebeyerfdog @msu82
(ask to be tagged xoxoxo)
Warnings: Kinda neglectful parenting, lemme know if there's other stuff
Ao3
Three days.
There was no patter of feet in the hallway. No giggles from the kitchen as cookies were stolen. There were no cartoons or musicals or singing. The house was quiet, and so was Virgil’s heart.
On the first day, Virgil spent the vast majority of time curled up on the couch cradling a teary-eyed Logan as he himself was held against Roman’s chest.
On the second day, Roman had gone back to work, dropping Virgil off on his way in. Remy was nice enough to put him on cleaning, keeping him away from the harsh gazes of customers. Emile had even come in to bring him a cooked lunch, offering a hug and a shoulder when he began to cry.
On the third day, Virgil was silent. His workday was slow, only spent clearing up old plates and wiping down tables. He ignored Roman’s texts asking if he wanted him over for dinner. By the time he got home, he was too tired to kick off his shoes before falling face-first onto the couch.
That was where Logan found him hours later.
The young boy had tried to stay home, knowing that his being around might not help Virgil cope with the temporary loss of his son. But unfortunately, his step-father had noticed his presence was more apparent and kicked him out. With nowhere else to go, he shuffles down to the Casey residence and knocks lightly before letting himself in with the spare key under the mat.
It was after 7 pm, Logan had expected to walk into Virgil eating alone at the table or watching something on the tv, not sobbing loudly into the couch holding a cushion as though his life depended on it.
“Mr Pa-um, Mr Virgil?” Perhaps calling him Mr Patton’s Dad isn’t the best of ideas right about now, Logan thinks, stepping closer to the couch where Virgil lay.
“Logan?” The man sits up, wiping away his tears to look at the boy. “Are you alright?” His blue eyes scan the boy’s face, taking note of the scratch on his jaw and the small drops of blood still falling from his nose onto his shirt.
“Are you?” Virgil snorts, standing to usher the boy into the bathroom and pulling out the first aid kit. He quickly cleans up the cut, instructing Logan to hold a tissue to his nose until the bleeding stops.
“Have you had dinner yet?” Logan shakes his head, blinking up at the man through his still broken glasses. “Okay, how do sausages and chips sound?” He nods slightly, tilting his head so Virgil can put a bandaid over the mark and removes the tissue from his face, wiping any mess and disposing of it quickly.
“Come on, you can help me cook. I’ll teach you.”
**
It was safe to say Patton was scared from the moment he climbed into the back seat of the car. He watched his dad fade from sight, hands and face pressed against the window and tears pooling in his cool blue eyes.
“Um, it’s nice to meet you. What’s-”
“Shut it, this is my favourite song.” Meghann’s hand raises to hush the boy before turning up the stereo far above what a sane person could withstand.
“Ow. Can it be quieter, please? It’s hurting my ears.” Whether she hears or not is a mystery as she sings along to the pop ballad, turning just slightly dangerously through the streets.
The drive to her house isn’t too long, but with all the red lights and close calls, it feels like a lifetime to the young boy in the back.
Meghann pulls into an underground carpark, slamming on the brakes and stopping before Patton's eyes can adjust to the new lighting. She’s out of the car quickly, slamming her door shut and wandering off to the elevator, turning to look expectantly at the boy who was pulling his backpack off the seat next to him.
“Come on then, we don’t have all day.” Patton jumps out of the vehicle, closing the door nicely and running to catch up, ducking into the elevator seconds before the doors closed and watching as she swipes a card and presses the button labelled 9.
“What’s your name?” He tries again, adjusting the straps of his bag and holding out his hand like he’d seen the adults do.
“Ew, no contact. It’s Meghann.” She grimaces at his hand, stepping away slightly and staring at the door.
“Would you like me to call you Meghann? Or maybe Mum or Mama or-”
“Stop. Talking. Just call me Meghann, no Mum or Mother or whatever bullshit like that.” The door slides open and she saunters out into the hall, Patton running to keep up and meeting her at a door at the end of the hall.
She opens the door to a modern living room, all the furniture in matching blue and white, all neatly situated in nice squares and perfect lines. The room opens out into the kitchen where a solid white bar separates the space and a set of blue stools sit in front. The only thing that makes the room pop are the clothes littering the floor and the various takeaway boxes piled on the counter, dishes sit in the sink, undone. It looks like a very lived-in room.
“This is a very nice home.” Patton pipes up, following her down the hall and awing at a cute picture of a cat on the wall. She doesn’t answer, just huffs and pushes open the last door in the hall.
Inside is a small, beaten bed that looks a little older than Patton, pressed up against the back wall and a desk about the same size as the ones he uses at school. The room is barely big enough for both objects, with maybe half a metre between the end of the bed and the wall and a metre between it and the door.
“This is your room, make yourself at home, I guess.” She turns on her heel and walks back down the hall, opening another door and vanishing inside. Patton sighs and puts his bag on the bed, coughing at the dust it kicks up before remembering he hadn’t grabbed the boxes from the boot of the car. Leaving the room and pulling the door over, he wanders down towards where Meghann vanished, finding her in a large bedroom full of books and knick-knacks.
“Meghann? My toys and clothes are still in your car.” He knocks lightly on the door, choosing to look at his feet instead of her as she spins to face him
“Go get them then? It’s unlocked.”
Patton looks up, eyes wide with confusion. “By myself?” Virgil never let him go out alone, mainly because the last time he did he got lost and ended up crying in a park. Meghann just nods and turns back to her dresser, adjusting her hair.
Patton turns and leaves, stopping by his room to pick up his dinosaur for protection and heading out the front door. Taking a deep breath, he sets off down the hall, reaching the elevator and getting in. He presses the button with a car drawing and waits, watching the doors sit open. He presses the button again, and again, before looking up to the swipe pad next to it.
Wandering back to the apartment, he counts the doors, one, two three, stopping at the fifth and trying to open it, finding it had locked behind him. He knocks lightly, waiting patiently for Meghann to open it.
“The elevator didn’t work without your card. May I borrow it?” She looks down at him with distaste, pulling her cell phone from her ear to talk to him.
“There are stairs for a reason, kid.” She laughs loudly, slamming the door shut, just barely missing his fingers on the wall. Patton jumps, not used to the loud noise and steps back, tripping on his laces and falling to the ground in the hall.
“I don’t think I like it here, Fluffy.” He mumbles, picking up the plush dinosaur before heading back towards the elevator, finding the staircase to the left and starting his descent.
By the time he reaches the bottom, his legs hurt and he’s out of breath, so Patton takes a seat on the bottom stair and catches his breath. After a few moments, he steps towards the car park, staying close to the cars like his dad taught him and searching for the car amongst the others.
When Patton finally finds the right car- he recognized a sticker that had a bad word in the back window- he tugs on the boot, pulling at it roughly in an attempt to get it open.
“Hey, kid!” A voice shouts, Patton dropping his toy and spinning around to see an older man stalking over. “What do you think you're doing?” His hair is long and tied up in a bun like Virgil’s often is, but far greasier and untidy. A scruffy beard lines his jaw, and his dark eyes glare down at the small boy like a starved wild animal.
“I just moved here with my Mum, but my clothes are in the boot. Can you help me open it?”
“Oh, Paddy right? You’re Meghann’s brat?” He laughs loudly, the sound like nails to a chalkboard. “I’ll see you ‘round kid. Don’t scratch the car, it costs more than you’ll make in a decade.”
“Sir? Could you please help?” The man just cackles again and wanders off to the elevator, disappearing inside as quickly as he appeared in the first place.
Patton stares at the door to the elevator for several moments, slowly thinking through all the things he could’ve done wrong to deserve being left out here all alone.
Was it that time he didn’t hold the door open for Mr Phillips? He had his arms full of books but Patton was carrying his show and tell project and couldn’t get a free hand. Was it the time he didn’t let Archie borrow his orange crayon? The boy had shoved his green one up his nose the week earlier so it was probably justified.
Turning and kicking the car once, Patton sits on the ground against the wheel, Fluffy the Dinosaur sat in his lap. Why would you leave a child to collect his things from your car without telling him how to do so? Without warning, tears start to stream down his cheeks.
“I want to go home!” He cries loudly, furiously scrubbing at his cheeks.
“Hello? Is someone there?” A voice calls through the parking garage. Patton sniffs loudly, curling up in a ball around his toy and waiting for the person to leave.
“Hello?” They call again, footsteps echoing across the concrete. “I know you’re there, I heard you crying. My guess is you’re only a kid too. I promise I’m not gonna hurt you, ah, wait that sounds bad. Hang on, I didn’t mean it like I would and I’m tryna trap you but, um, dammit. This isn’t working.” Patton sits up, leaning his head around the edge of the car to find a familiar teen with bright orange hair and a studded jacket shuffling his feet between the rows of cars.
“Toby?” Patton calls, standing slowly and watching his babysitter look up.
“Patton? What are you doing here? Where’s Mr C?” Another sob leaves the boy’s mouth and, before he can step any closer, Tobias catches an arm full of sobbing child.
“Hey, little man, it’s okay. What happened?” The boy simply shakes his head, wrapping his arms tighter around the teen's waist. They stand there for several minutes, Tobias awkwardly smiling at passing cars as Patton clings to him for dear life.
“Pat? Can you tell me why you’re here alone?” He asks, crouching down to the boy’s height despite the stabbing of the spikes on the back of his boots.
“I live with my mum now.” He whispers, clinging tightly to Tobias’s jacket with one hand and Fluffy with the other.
“Okay, and why are you down here by yourself? I know you're a big kid but it’s not safe to be here this late alone.”
“Meghann, my Mum, didn’t bring my stuff up so I had to come to get it but I can’t get the car open and I just want Papa back.” Patton sniffs, rubbing at his eyes as the fatigue sets in.
“Which car? I can help you.” Patton takes the punk’s hand and leads him over. Tobias reaches inside the front seat, tugging on a lever insistently before returning to Patton’s side, tugging on the boot as well.
“It needs the key. Don’t tell anyone I did this okay?” Patton nods as he watches his babysitter pull a small pouch out of his jacket pocket, taking two metal objects and poking at the keyhole until the boot pops open.
“You’re a magician.” Patton awes, smiling as Tobias pushes the boot open further.
“Not a magician, sadly, just been in a few situations myself.” Together the two pull out the few boxes Patton had brought, stacking them at the bottom of the stairs. Tobias’s phone starts to ring, the boy sighing deeply before answering.
“Hey, yeah I know something came up. Can’t I just come later? Yeah, yeah, I know. Okay, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up, taking a deep breath and clenching his fists a few times before crouching back beside Patton.
“Do you have someone to help you take these up?” Patton shakes his head and Tobias sighs again. “Okay. Let’s get these in the elevator.”
“But it needs a card.” He pipes up, pushing the box of clothes across the floor. Tobias pulled the remaining three on top, pulling out his own swipe card from his wallet. “Wait, do you live here too?”
“I do. What floor’s your Mum’s place?”
“Nine. She doesn’t want me to call her Mum.” Patton hugs his dinosaur tightly as the elevator rises, ignoring Tobias’s concerned look. When they reach the ninth floor, Tobias's phone rings again, this time with a loud bell ringtone that makes his eyes blow wide.
“Shit, Pat, I’m really sorry but I can't help you get these down there. This is my number- if you need anything, call me. I’ll come to check on you in when I can, okay?” Tobias gives him a tight hug, pressing a piece of paper into his hand and helping him get the boxes out of the elevator before saying goodbye again.
“Bye Toby.” Patton waves sadly as the doors close, leaving him alone in the hall again. He tucks the paper into his pocket, pushing the first box down the hall noisy and leaving it by the door, returning to find a child poking at the box of books like it’s a new type of animal.
“Oh, hello. My name is Patton.” The child looks up, startled, and scampers behind a pot plant, hiding almost successfully due to their small size.
“It’s okay, I’m not gonna be mean. What’s your name?” Patton steps closer, trying to get the child to come out but receiving a small hiss in response. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk to me. I have to take this box down to my new house so I’m gonna leave my dinosaur here to keep you company okay? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
True to his word, Patton places the dinosaur on the ground around the other side of the pot, where the child can see it, before pushing another box down the hall. This one takes a bit longer than the first because of the weight, books and toys aren’t light.
When he returns, the child is back next to the remaining two boxes, playing with the dinosaur like it’s an aeroplane.
“His name is Fluffy. He’s a steg-o-saw-rus.” Patton sounds out the word, remembering how Mr Phillips had pointed to each part in class. The child looks up, mismatched gold and brown eyes staring up at him with curiosity. They have messy auburn hair falling over their eyes, long enough to reach their shoulders, and freckles dusted over their face and neck.
“What’s your name?” The child shakes their head, looking back down at the dinosaur in their hands.
“Can you not talk?” Patton asks carefully, gaining a small nod as their response. “That’s okay, I’ve been told I talk enough for me and my friend so I can talk for you too. Can you spell your name?”
The child looks up slowly, pulling a face before nodding. Patton steps up to the box nearest to him, pulling open the top and taking out his letter board. It’s made from a whiteboard and has a little basket of letter magnets attached to the side.
"My Papa got me this to learn to spell. You can use it to talk to me if you'd like?" He watches the child think a little, setting the dinosaur aside and taking the whiteboard, using a pen to write in shaky letters.
"Darwin? That's a nice name." Darwin smiles a little, looking down at the ground and playing with a pulled thread. "How old are you? I'm 9." Darwin slowly uncaps the pen again and draws a number 8, looking up through his fringe at Patton, who smiles softly down at him.
"We can have play dates then. My friend Logan and I do that all the time, we go to the park and he comes and watches movies with us, would you like that?" Darwin nods again, shyly playing with the dinosaur again. Patton smiles triumphantly, moving to the other side of the boxes and starting to push them down the hall.
After only a few metres, he's out of breath and tired, Darwin still watching silently with Fluffy in his hands. He stands slowly, shuffling over and putting his hands on the boxes, grunting a little as he pushes them forward.
"Oh, thank you, you don't have to help." Darwin nods quickly, pushing the boxes again with all his might. Together, the boys get them down the hall and place them at the door, panting with exhaustion.
"Thank you, Darwin, that would've taken me forever." Patton steps up to the door, trying the handle before knocking, just in case Meghann had been kind enough to unlock it for him. Only silence answers, so he knocks again a little louder, smiling nervously at Darwin behind his stuff.
"What do you, oh, took you long enough." Meghann rips open the door, glancing down at Patton before spotting his new friend behind the boxes. "Did you multiply, who's this?"
"This is Darwin, he's my new friend, can he come play?" Meghann looks between the two. Even with her cold, dead heart, she can't help but melt at the puppy eyes Patton gives her.
"Not tonight, Paddy, it's late and you look like me after a night out. Tomorrow, if his parents agree." Patton thanks her loudly and starts to ramble to the boy about all the things they can do, earning a groan from the woman at the door. "Okay, too loud, enough sappy shit. Get your stuff inside, there's shit for a sandwich on the bench for dinner." She turns and walks back inside, ignoring the kids once again but this time with the door open.
"I'll see you tomorrow? You can come over after lunch?" Darwin nods quickly, pointing at the boxes and then inside. "I can get them to my room from here, it's not nearly as far as the elevator." Patton holds open his arms for a hug, gaining a small shake from the boy as he holds up a hand. "High five then" Patton laughs, lightly hitting their hands against each other.
Darwin smiles beneath his hair, patting the dinosaur in his arms and handing him back, waving as he wanders off down the hall again.
With a smile on his face and his friend gone, Patton drags the boxes one by one into his new room, collapsing on his bed as soon as he's done and falling asleep instantly.
Summary: LOGAN’S BACK!!! Logan is in a bit of pain but superhero Roman to the rescue.
Word Count: 2370
Relationships: Prinxiety, Platonic/Almost Parental Roman and Logan,
Previous Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven,
(because I know this has problems, look up the tag ‘adventures in dading’ or ‘dad virgil’ on my blog archive and you’ll find all of them)
Tags: @katatles-the-fish @karma-the-tax-collector @analogical-mess @rebeyerfdog
(ask to be tagged xoxox)
Warnings: Abuse mention, Blood mentions, Panic attack/Sensory Overload, I wrote it how I remember feeling it (i normally don't remember it) so it’s not necessarily accurate but be careful just in case.
Ao3
Logan was a smart child.
He could recite pi to the 50th decimal, solve a Rubix cube in under a minute, and knew his 12 times tables.
He also knew his family wasn’t normal.
It wasn’t normal when his step-father locked him in the basement when he forgot to do the dishes or when his mother slapped him for speaking too loud. It wasn’t normal that his bed was a pile of old rags on a torn foam mattress or that he had to wear second-hand high neck sweaters to school even in the summer.
But he didn’t know how to change it.
He was scared to ask for help because he didn’t know what to say. He was scared he’d be taken away. He was scared they wouldn’t listen.
So he hid it all. He wore long shirts and claimed to be clumsy and only spoke when spoken too. He kept his interests to himself, learnt to sneak food after dark, made friends with the boy around the corner so he had somewhere to get away too.
Of course, there was always the Casey’s when he needed a hug or to get away for a few hours.
So after his father had stopped attacking him for burning their breakfast, he snuck out the door and headed down the road, wiping his tears with his sleeves and smearing the blood further across his dark skin.
As he walked down the street, he pulled his hood up to hide his face from the neighbours working in their gardens and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He probably looked more suspicious that way but at least they wouldn’t judge him too harshly.
When he reached the Casey household, Logan knocked lightly, waiting a few minutes before knocking again. But no one came.
So he sat on the doorstep, arms folded around his middle and tears quietly falling into the new cuts on his face.
He sat there for hours, slowly moving closer to the door as the sun made its way across the sky and left him in the cold, huddled against the wall and bored out of his mind. It was nicer there, alone, then it was at home so he wasn’t complaining.
It was 5 pm when a car pulled into the Casey’s driveway, Patton jumping out of the back before the car had even stopped and running to the ball of child he called his best friend.
“Logan!” The boy yells, falling to his knees in front of his friend, carefully unfolding his arms from around his knees and pulling him into a gentle hug.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I just had to leave.” Logan whispers, burying his head into Patton’s shoulder and wincing as he brushes against his collar just a touch too hard. Patton looks up as Virgil and Roman climb out of the car, both with worried looks on their faces.
“Logan, you are always welcome here, no matter the time. I’ll put a spare key under the flower pot for you in case we aren’t here again.” The father walks over, kneeling by the pair of boys as Logan looks up. The blood had dried to his face long ago, eyes red from the tears that now stained Patton’s shirt as well as his own.
“Let’s get you inside to clean you up okay?” Virgil unlocks the door as the boys stand, Patton helping Logan inside to leave the adults to talk.
“Do you want me to go home, Virge?” Roman takes his hand, squeezing it lightly as he watches the man continuing to stare after his son.
“I think I’d like if you stayed, I just don’t know how Logan will feel. He doesn’t know you and he’s hesitant enough to talk about it with me, let alone a stranger.” He turns to face Roman, both concerned and mildly afraid. Without a word, Roman pulls him into a hug, holding him tight before Patton returns to the door.
“Dad, Logan said there’s some mail in the letterbox. Is Mr Phillips staying?” Virgil pulls away enough to face his son.
“Is Logan okay with him staying?” Patton just nods, a small smile on his lips. “Then, it’s just up to you.”
“Let’s go help your friend clean up while your dad gets the mail.” Roman lets go of his boyfriend and takes Patton’s hand, entering the house while Virgil treks across the yard. He waves at the couple next door, the youngest happily drinking coffee while their boyfriend tends to the garden, and takes the collection of envelopes.
Shuffling through as he walks inside, it's all the usual stuff. BIlls, promotions, a pamphlet for the pizza place in town. The last letter, however, makes him freeze at the door to the kitchen.
It’s a plain white envelope, with his name printed on the front and an ‘Urgent’ sticker across the top. He tears it open, finding a single sheet of paper and a piece of cardboard to keep it straight. It’s his court date, the first hearing for the custody battle over Patton.
It’s scheduled for a Sunday.
Could he get Roman to take Patton for the day? Tobias might be free to babysit, it is a weekend and one of his normal workdays. Would Remy be able to come along? Should he take Roman instead? Is he even allowed to take someone?
“Mr Patton’s Dad?” He looks up to see Logan at the counter, face cleaned up and a Hello Kitty bandaid on his cheekbone, looking at him curiously through broken glasses. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
“Yeah, Logan, I’m fine, it’s all good. How are you feeling?” He carefully slides the letter back inside, placing it and the bills in the folder on the bench, turning to the boy who looks at his hands with conviction.
“I am okay. Mr Phillips cleaned me up and made sure I was alright. He is very good at first aid. He and Patton have gone to find blankets to build a fort in the living room. They said you would not mind, do you?” He looks up, green eyes filled with a worry Virgil can’t understand.
“I think that sounds wonderful. Are you sure you’re alright with Roman hanging around? I know new people can be scary and he is a teacher so I would understand if you were uncomfortable.” Logan had once said that the teachers at his school were rude when he couldn’t take part in activities, and that none of them seemed to care that he either came to school in pain or just not at all.
“Thank you Mr Patton’s Dad, I’m okay. Patton said he is like a large teddy bear.” Logan laughs lightly as Virgil cackles, both happy to see the other smiling.
“You could definitely describe him like that.” Roman enters the kitchen with his arms stuffed full of various blankets and sheets, Patton trailing with even more, one thrown over his head so he can only vaguely see through the thin fabric.
“Come on, Papa! Mr Phillips said he knows how to build a better fort than us.” Patton laughs, turning to run from the room and hitting the wall, stumbling back into his Dad’s arms before being directed into the living room.
“Logan, are you coming?” Roman looks at the young boy still sitting at the counter. He nods slowly, climbing down and following him to the lounge where Virgil and Patton have claimed half the furniture and started draping sheets over it.
“I guess you’re on my team then, Little Einstein,” Roman smiles, starting on the fort and directing Logan to help him. Within only a few minutes, Patton falls through his and his dad’s fort, leading the two pairs to combine their efforts and collapsing in the middle with smiles all around.
As Virgil and Roman left to prepare dinner and Patton got distracted by a cat in the backyard, Logan couldn’t help but get lost in his thoughts.
This was a home where the father treated his son with love and respect, where outsiders were welcomed in with open arms, where everyone felt wanted. Yes, there is only one parent, but it’s a family no matter who is or isn’t there. It was warm and comfortable and safe. Nothing like his home.
Tears start to brim in his eyes as he thinks of having to go back. Sure, he could stay here the night, maybe two, but eventually he will have to return. He will have to face his mother and step-father, the physical beatings and verbal abuse. He can't stay in this eutopia forever no matter how much he wants too.
Or...
He could speak up.
Roman is a teacher, not his teacher, but still a teacher. Technically, if he hears about, or even really suspects the abuse, he has to ask. If Logan told him, he could tell the police or child services. He could get him out of that nightmare house.
But...
Logan's step-dad is a police officer- the captain, to be specific. No one would listen to the 'delinquent' son of his 'mentally ill' wife. That's what they were. He was punished for acting out, she didn't know any better. Or at least that's what he'd say.
Sometimes his mum hugged him after yelling, saying she was sorry and that she loved him, that it was for his own good. Sometimes she kissed his forehead or gave him an extra slice of toast. She loves him. Or at least that what she claims.
Logan hiccups a sob, hand slapping over his mouth to keep himself quiet and silently praying no one heard.
"Logan?" Roman's voice calls from behind the curtain of sheets next to the couch, the only path to the outside world from his cave. The boy doesn't reply, stifling his sobs and frantically wiping at his tears.
"Can I come in?" Waiting for the quiet affirmative, Roman slowly crawls in, looking up at the worried father in the doorway. He disappears into the tower of sheets, finding Logan curled up against the couch, eyes filled with terrified tears.
"Hey buddy, wanna talk?" Logan frantically shakes his head, hands tugging at the hems of his jeans, fingers rubbing over the fabric roughly. "That's okay, would you like a hug?" Another shake. "That's alright too. Is it alright if I just sit here?" The crying boy nods slowly, watching the man adjust his legs to sit comfortably. His tear-filled eyes track Roman’s every move, undeterred by the lack of air entering his lungs, more focused on the threat of pain.
His mother hated him crying, she hated hearing him sob or even hiss in mild discomfort. She often lamented about how ‘men shouldn’t cry, it’s a sign of weakness’. He had learnt to stay quiet and unseen, but this was inescapable. The emotions welling up so much they had to burst free no matter the cost.
They sit there for a while, Logan sobbing quietly into his knees as Roman waits patiently, quietly telling him some meaningless tale of his day. Logan slowly calms down, breaths coming easier as he focuses more on Roman's words than his hands, eyes locked on the teacher's face as his own hands stop frantically tugging at his clothing.
"How are you feeling now, Logan?" Roman carefully lays his hand face up between the two, watching the green eyes snap down to the offending movement. Logan looks up to Roman’s face, seeing the soft, welcoming smile before looking back down to his hand. Slowly and carefully, like a cautious wild animal, Logan reaches out, fingers brushing over Roman's skin before grasping his hand tightly.
"It's okay if you don't want to talk, you don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. Virgil said you're very cautious around new people so I understand if you'd prefer to talk to him, or even Patton instead. But I want you to know that if you need an impartial ear, I am here to help. If you want someone to just listen, or give you advice, or anything at all, you can come to me as well," Roman laments, watching Logan's hand trail up his arm, fingers dancing over the now-faded scars that litter the tanned skin, before he looks up, tugging on Roman's sleeve. No words are exchanged, they don’t need to be, as Logan crawls closer to Roman, curling up in his arms.
Roman holds the young boy close, running a soothing hand over his back as he clings to him. Neither speak, both relishing in the silence and the warmth of the other.
Logan still feels scared, he can't help it. Roman is a man, much bigger than he is, holding him. He could easily hurt him, hold him too tight and suffocate him, crush him slowly, break a bone or four. But something about Roman feels honest. He feels safe and genuine and warm, though that could just be because he's holding him.
Roman is scared too. Logan has been abused, it’s obvious to anyone that spends even a moment near him. He holds the boy tight, but still loose enough that he could push away at a moments notice. He would hate to hurt him, physically or otherwise, but he wants to show the boy how love can be, how you can feel safe in the arms of an adult.
When they pull away, Logan is the first to move, sitting back on his knees and smiling at the teacher softly. Roman smiles back before holding out a hand, leading Logan into the kitchen where Virgil and Patton sit at the counter, dinner ready to be served.
Virgil dishes it up as Roman pours them all cups of juice and mugs of coffee despite the hour, Logan climbing up next to Patton and smiling at his friend as he holds his hand beneath the table.
The house quickly fills with laughter and stories, adults and children alike sharing tall tales and smiles over a meal prepared with love. Ex-families, custody battles and unsavoury thoughts are all set aside if only for the night, giving way to only love and happiness.
