Ummmm parental Remile with Deceit as their kid? With Dee getting in trouble at school?
Hey guys remember when I asked for parental remile prompts? hahaha yeah that was a while ago. anyways please ignore my complete lack of punctuality and enjoy some bois
Ao3(Warnings: mentions/talk of violence, mild injuries, use of the word f*g once)
“Do you think he stole a pencil?”
“I doubt they would have called us in over a stolen pencil, Em.”
“I know but- what could he have done? He’s a relatively harmless kid…”
“Every parent thinks that about their kid.” Remy responded, though he didn’t sound too sure himself. “They probably falsely accused him of cheating or something.”
Emile sighed and hugged himself as he entered the school, Remy letting the door fall shut behind them. “I wish they could have just told us over the phone. That secretary is very tight-lipped.”
“You can say that again.” Remy agreed, the husbands falling silent as they followed the various signs to the principal’s office. A few students passed by them, barely sparing them a glance as they hustled to either get home or to practice.
At the office, they were greeted by a middle-aged woman who looked like she’d rather be anywhere that wasn’t behind her desk. “Can I help you?”
“We’re Darius’s parents.” Emile told her. “We got a call that the principal wanted to see us, some matter regarding him…?”
The secretary frowned a little as she quickly typed something into her computer, eventually jerking a finger over her shoulder towards a door behind her. “Get in there.” She ordered, as if she were talking to disobedient students. Remy and Emile did as she said, more worried about their son than a grumpy secretary.
The door lead to the principal’s office, Mr. Edison sitting behind his desk, rubbing his temple like he had a bad headache. Of the three chairs in front of his desk, one was occupied by Darius, who was awkwardly hunched over on himself.
Emile went to Darius first while Remy stood behind one of the chairs, not bothering to greet Mr. Edison.
“Hey, Dari, how are yo-” Emile cut himself off when Darius looked up at him, uncurling enough to reveal his hunched form came from him pressing a bag of ice against the left side of his face, and that both his hands were loosely covered in gauze and bandages.
Noticing Emile’s staggered stop, Remy shifted so he could see around him to see Darius. The moment he did, he turned angrily back towards Mr. Edison. “What the Hell happened?!”
“That’s what I called you here to discuss.” He answered, sounding tired. “If you could please take a seat, we can get started.”
Remy continued to glare while Emile gently shuffled Darius into the middle chair, both dads taking a seat on each side of him. Once they were all settled, Mr. Edison leaned forward, planting his elbows on his desk so he could clasp his hands together and lean them forward. “Darius got into a fight.”
“No shiz, Sherlock.” Remy snapped, Emile reaching a hand over Darius’s shoulders to pat his husband’s. The principal’s frown just deepended a little.
“Why was he in a fight?” Emile asked, more collectedly.
Mr. Edison shrugged. “By the time teachers arrived at the scene, both boys were injured. Darius was halfway through throwing another punch when they were broken up.”
“There’s got to be a reason.” Emile pressed. “Darius wouldn’t just hit a kid for no reason.”
“From what the teachers know-”
“He called him a fag.”
All the adults turned to look at Darius, who was still watching the floor with an expression that was both frustrated and tired.
“What did you say?” Remy asked, softly. Darius shifted his hold on the ice pack.
“The kid I hit.” He said. “He was calling Roman a fag for wearing a skirt.”
Silenced stretched for a moment, Remy and Emile looking between each other and Darius while he remained looking down. Eventually, Emile spoke up.
“Where is the other kid now?” He asked, trying to keep his voice controlled, though it was clear from his strained tone that he was struggling to do so.
“His parents already came by and picked him up.” Mr. Edison answered, consulting one of the papers on his desk. “He’ll be suspended from school for one day, as is our policy regarding school fights. For both participating in and initiating the fight, Darius will be suspended for two days-”
“You’re suspending Darius?” Emile said at the same time as Remy’s,
“Darius is going to be suspended longer?”
Mr. Edison only barely flinched at the sudden, and rather loud, questions. “It’s school policy.” He said simply. “All participants in fights are suspended for a day. The student or students who started the fight are suspended for one extra day.”
“Yes, but this isn’t exactly an average play yard fight.” Remy said with a frown. “You heard what Darius said. He was just defending this Roman kid. If anyone should have to be suspended longer, it should be the little bi-” Remy bit on his tongue, backtracking before he finished with, “it should be the other kid.”
“Be that as it may, rules are rules-”
“Rules my foot.”
“-and Darius shouldn’t have resorted to violence, especially without attempting to deescalate the situation in other ways first.” Mr. Edison explained, ignoring Remy’s interjection.
“I’m certain that Darius didn’t resort to violence immediately.” Emile said confidently before he turned towards Darius. “Dari, did you hit the other student without any warning?”
“Of course not.” Darius defended, voice quiet but still firm. “I told him to shut up first. And then twice, and thrice, and when he didn’t I did it for him.”
Remy nodded his head. “See? He tried to be reasonable. And when that failed, he took care of the immediate issue. I see no reason to punish him more than the kid who caused the issue.”
Mr. Edison shook his head. “Reasons notwithstanding, he still initiated the fight unprovoked, and policy states that-”
“Unprovoked?” Emile repeated, interrupting the principal. “The student was using an extremely crude word to insult another one. That’s verbal abuse, Mr. Edison, and it can be extremely mentally and emotionally damaging, especially to adolescents. Stopping that flow of abuse and stopping the use of a frankly repulsive word, albeit using a means I can’t condone, shouldn’t result in a worse punishment than the one using the word receives.”
Mr. Edison didn’t respond to that immediately, instead glancing between Emile and Remy. Finally, after a minute, he sighed. “In light of the full understanding of the situation that provoked Darius to punch the other student, I can lengthen the other’s suspension to two days.” He said placatingly. “But I still must reside by policy and suspend Darius for two days as well.”
“Fine.” Remy said, annoyed. “It’s not fair, but at least it’s not as asinine as punishing him more.”
“Unless you have anything more you need from us, I think we’ll be going now.” Emile said quickly, before Remy could continue.
Mr. Edison just nodded towards the door as he moved back to looking over his papers. The three of them got up, Emile placing a hand on Darius’s shoulder to gently guide him as they left.
None of them spoke again until they were out of the school building, heading into the parking lot. Darius cleared his throat, awkwardly wringing his fingers as well as he could given they were wrapped up in bandages.
“Sorry I punched that kid.” He mumbled, looking at the ground as he spoke. “I know it wasn’t a good choice, I just… I had to do something.”
“Aw, don’t sweat it.” Remy said lightly, patting Darius’s shoulder. “I would’ve done the same thing, after all.”
“This is why your father is not a respectable role model.” Emile chided lightly, though he smiled when Remy flashed him a mischievous grin.
“What can I say, babes, it’s clearly just in his blood!”
“Hush, before you get yourself suspended.” Emile said teasingly before he turned his attention back to Darius. “And it’s alright, Dari. While I can’t condone violence, I think in these circumstances I can be persuaded to… overlook it. Just this once, of course.”
“So… I’m not in trouble?” Darius asked, slowly, glancing between his parents.
“I mean, you already have to deal with that bullsh-”
“Dear.”
“-bullstupid, clearly, I was just going to say bullstupid,” Remy saved easily, grinning when Emile playfully rolled his eyes, “that bullstupid suspension. Really, you’ve already been punished enough, in my opinion.”
“I agree.” Emile added.
“Plus, you’re going to be stuck at home alone with me, which is really just added punishment.” Remy said. He paused for a moment, as if in thought, before he went on, “Though the likelihood of me doing something stupid and amusing does increase when young, impressionable minds are around…”
Emile shook his head. “You’re going to burn the house down.”
“Probably.” Remy conceded as they reached the car. “But at least I’ll be teaching our son important life lessons while I’m at it!”
“Such as?”
“How to properly light matches, how to take the batteries out of fire alarms so firefighters don’t show up to spoil your fun, how to get out of a burning building at the absolute last minute- y’know, the cornerstones of father-son bonding activities.” Remy listed off as they got into the car, Darius slipping into the back as Emile and Remy took the driver and passenger seats, respectively.
“Well, once we get home, I’ll be showing Darius the funnest activity of them all: how to call into work and take the next two days off because your husband simply cannot be left unattended with a child.” Emile said.
“So I’m going to be stuck with both of you?” Darius asked, sounding disgusted by the idea even though both his dads knew he didn’t mind it at all.
Remy turned to face Darius as Emile started the engine. “Don’t think of it like that! You’re not ‘stuck’ with us- you’re enjoying a nice two-day break from school and work with us!”
“More accurately, you’ll be a bystander to the chaos of your father being stuck with me, the only responsible member of this household.” Emile corrected. “Though there is hope for you yet, Darius.”
“I’m offended that there’s no hope for me.”
“There hasn’t been hope for you in years, honey, it’s nothing personal.”
Remy crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, clearly pouting. “If there’s no hope for me, why did you marry me?”
Emile risked a glance over at Remy, smiling over at his childish husband. “Because you’re too cute. All it takes is one glance at you and suddenly I’ve forgotten the fact that you’re horribly irresponsible and will likely be the accidental cause behind your own death.”
“Damn gay I will be.” Remy said confidently. “And thank you. I am very cute.”
“The cutest.”
“No, that title’s yours.”
“I thought we just agreed you’re the cute one.”
“There can be more than one cute on in a relationship-”
“Guys, if you’re gonna be mushy the whole way home, I think I’d rather walk.” Deceit interrupted them, sticking out his tongue just a bit. “Or get in another fist fight or something.”
Emile giggled. “Sorry about that, Dari.”
“And speaking of fist fights- Darius, this was your first proper brawl, yeah?” Remy asked, looking back at Darius. When Darius nodded, Remy went on, “Well, I’d consider that to be a pretty important milestone in one’s teenage years! We must celebrate! How does ice cream sound?”
“Ice cream sounds good to me.” Darius said enthusiastically.
“That’s one yes!” Remy said. “And you, darling dearest light-of-my-life?”
“You just want to try out their new espresso flavor.”
“Maaaaybe.” Remy admitted. “But have you considered this?” He leaned over the console, planting a kiss on Emile’s cheek. Emile’s face immediately flushed.
“That is cheating and you know it.”
“Maaaaybe.” Remy repeated, still in Emile’s space, now simply resting his head on Emile’s shoulder. “Is it working?”
Emile didn’t respond for a moment, trying to keep his attention on the road even as his eyes kept flicking back to his husband against his side. Finally, he sighed and gave in, saying, “Alright, we’ll go get ice cream. But only if you stop being more distracting than usual!”
“Whatever you say, doll.” Remy responded, quickly scooting fully back into his seat. “As long as it gets me that sweet, sweet frozen coffee, I’ll do it!”
“This is going to end horribly, isn’t it?” Darius asked, once more gaining Remy’s attention.
“Probably.” Remy admitted. “But, hey! You’re getting ice cream after beating a kid up! I’d say you’re pretty lucky, so it probably won’t end horribly for you! Just me and your dad, who insists on sticking by my side through everything for some reason.”
“I’m obligated to by love.”
“What’s love got going for it?”
“Our marriage, for one thing.”
“Impossible. Our marriage transcends mortal conventions.”
Darius leaned back in his seat and turned his attention to the window, watching the scenery rush by as his dads fell into a loop of compliments poorly disguised as some sort of discussion. He really wasn’t sure what he was expecting to happen after he threw that first punch… but as it stands?
Trigger Warnings: Vent fic, bad parenting, parents fighting, angst, starvation, christmas angst, running away from home, being kicked out of your home - mentioned, insecurity, self-blame, parental manipulation, physical abuse - mentioned, verbal abuse - mentioned, self-hatred, low self-esteem, self-deprecation, self-deprecating thoughts, bit of swearing, if you squint you can see signs of touch-starvation.
Summary: Christmas is supposed to be a time for celebration and joy, yet Patton has experienced none of that. Ever.
Word Count: 4026
AO3
A/N: This is a vent fic. Most of the experiences Patton has had with his parents in this are my own. I may have exaggerated their fighting and the expectations (they could never make me be someone I'm not), but otherwise, it's all me. I'm so sorry, Patton.
Please tell me if I need to tag anything else! Many different things can be triggering for people, and I may also have missed something.
"It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year" Or So The Song Goes...
“Patton is the most cheery guy you’ll ever meet.” That's how everyone would describe him. Whether you’ve known him for years or just met him. That’s who Patton wants to be. The most cheery person. Someone you can trust. Someone always in a good mood, always willing to listen and help. Because that’s who his parents want him to be. The one they can show off. “Oh look, here’s our little ray of sunshine!”
But truth be told, Patton was not. His smile was rarely real. He was expected to be the one to stay positive in every situation. And that wasn’t easy when all your family did was fight and yell and take their problems out on you.
Underneath his smile and façade, was a tired 18-year-old boy. Someone who dreaded Christmas. Someone who could barely hold in his tears in front of his parents and friends. Someone who closed himself off from everyone and everything when his bad emotions became too much. Someone who right now stood in the middle of a fight between his parents.
Patton didn’t process what was being said. He just knew it was going to be turned towards him sooner or later and become his fault. It always turned out that way. If only they weren’t paying for his college degree, then he’d run away and live with his best friend, Virgil. That didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right about now.
Christmas was a very stressful time for Patton. It always had been. Sure, it was stressful for him almost every single day, but Christmas was even worse. His family didn’t have much money, so they had to make do with what little they had. And that affected the mood of everyone living in his household. Himself included, even though he wasn’t allowed to show it. The one time he had, his parents made him regret it. That’s when he learned that they only wanted a sunshine child who was only to be seen, not heard.
As predicted, his parents’ argument ended with Patton getting the blame once again and being sent to his room without dinner. He didn’t even know what it was about. As soon as he closed the door to his room, he reached for his phone. This was getting too much for Patton to handle. He needed out for good this time. And there was only one person he could trust. Virgil. They’d been best friends since high school.
Virgil had told him time and again to get out of there. It was too toxic an environment for Patton to live in. And he was right. But his parents had needed him. He owed it to his parents to help them out. Even after the times, his mother had kicked him out of the house for the rest of the day on freezing cold days in almost no clothes, because he forgot to do a chore before they came home. He got bruises from it too.
Patton held his phone closed to him. He really wanted to call Virgil. Really wanted Virgil to come and get him. Wanted to run away with Virgil and never return to this hell-hole. Patton unlocked his phone but looked passed it. His eyes fell on Virgil’s present. He’d worked hard on it. Worked hard to get the needed parts to make it. He could make this his excuse for calling Virgil? Yeah, and tell him to meet at the park.
His hands were shaking as he scrolled through his contacts and found the one he knew by heart. He hesitated, though. What if Virgil didn’t want to meet up with him? What if he told Patton to just get on with telling his parents off? What if? What if? Wait. Wasn’t Patton always the one helping Virgil when his thoughts spiralled? And what was it Logan had called it again? Cognitive distortions? Virgil was lucky to have a brother like that. A brother who could, and would without a second thought, help you no matter what. Patton was ashamed to admit that he was a bit jealous of Virgil in that aspect. But you make do with what you have. And what Patton had, was two parents who hated each other and himself.
He shook his head. He needed to call Virgil. And call Virgil he did. The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Patton was about to just hang up when the phone was answered.
“Patton? It’s 2 am. What are you doing calling this late?” A pause. “Are you okay? Do you need me to pick you up? Are they fighting again?!” Virgil’s voice was getting more frantic. He was working himself into a panic. That would not do. He couldn’t let Virgil have a panic attack because of him. It was bad enough that he was the reason his parents were fighting, he wouldn’t hurt his best friends as well.
“I’m fine, Virgil. Promise.” His voice was soft and practised. “I just- I realised I forgot to give you your present last time we met up. I thought I could give it to you now?”
There was some shuffling in the background. Probably Virgil trying to get Anastacia off of him. That dog was very clingy when she was tired. “And that’s all? You’d tell me if something else was up, right?” Virgil sounded very sceptical.
“Of course, Vee.” Patton’s voice wavered. “Always. I was thinking we could meet up at the park? In about… twenty minutes?”
“…sure. Hey, why don’t you come crash at my place? My folks won’t care. They’d love to have you over… even though it’s in the middle of the night.”
Patton was sure Virgil knew he didn’t call just because of the gift. It didn’t matter. Virgil had invited him over, and Patton wasn’t going to let Virgil down. “Okay, Vee. Love you.”
“Love you too, Pat. See you in twenty minutes.”
Patton quickly found a bag and clothes and other necessities to pack. He made sure there was room for Virgil’s gift on top, it shouldn’t do if it got crinkled. He lingered a bit in his doorway. Was he really going to do this? Run away from his parents? Sure, he was 18 years now, but that still didn’t really change anything. He sighed. It was now or never, and Virgil was waiting for him.
He opened his door very carefully. It sometimes creaked when it was opened, but you could never know when it would, as it wasn’t all the time. Luckily, it didn’t this time, and Patton slowly stepped into the hallway. They lived in a two-story building. His room was upstairs, so he had to be extra careful when walking downstairs since the wooded floor creaked oh-so loudly all the time.
He tippytoed downstairs, making sure to avoid all the placed the floor creaked the loudest. Finally, he was at the door. He pulled his warmest outdoor clothes on before carefully unlocking the door and heading out. Then he started walking. Walking and walking and walking. It felt like he was walking for an eternity.
He looked at his clock. It was 2:34 am. Oh no, he was late! He hoped that Virgil would stay and not think Patton was just pulling his leg. He started running. The cold was beginning to get to him. It hurt. Please be there still, Virgil!
Finally, Patton arrived at the park. It was now 2:43 am. He looked around. And sighed. Virgil wasn’t there. Of course, he wasn’t there. Patton was late. Why should he wait around for Patton when he couldn’t be there on time? He sat down at the nearest bench. And cried. The dam was broken. He cried and cried and cried. Cried more than he ever had in years. Why couldn’t he just be what his parents wanted him to be? Why did he have to be so goddamn broken?!
He didn’t know how long he sat there, but it felt like forever. And just as he was about to just go back, a warm hand was gently placed on his knee. And then a gently and all too familiar voice spoke. “Oh Patty, what did they do to you? I’m here.” It was Virgil. And at that, Patton broke completely and flung himself at Virgil, not even bothering looking up, because he knew Virgil would catch him.
“I’m sorry! I’m s-so sorry! I- I didn’t know what else to do or where to go! I don’t wanna be there anymore!” Patton sobbed. He sobbed his heart out in Virgil’s chest. Let Virgil know that he couldn’t keep up the façade.
“Hey, shh, it’s alright. I’m here, Pat. I’m here,” Virgil soothed, running a gentle hand up and down Patton’s back. “I thought this was more than just a present, so I let Pa and Dad know you’re coming home. It’s okay.”
Patton was so relieved that Virgil was as smart as he was. He let himself be lead into Virgil’s car, the warmth flooding him. It was so nice.
They drove in silence, Patton falling asleep halfway home to Virgil. How did he get so lucky and get such a wonderful best friend?
He was gently woken up by Virgil after they arrived. “We’re here, Pat. Let’s get you inside. It’s pretty cold out, and you look like you haven’t eaten or drank anything for a while.” Patton didn’t reply, just let Virgil guide him once more. “There we go. Into the warmth.”
Patton opened his eyes blearily when he was met with the familiar scent of Virgil’s home. Virgil still had his arms around him, so he snuggled closer. He really didn’t want Virgil to let go of him just yet. “Mmm, you’re s’ warm,” Patton mumbled. That earned a small, almost nonexistent laugh out of Virgil.
“Yeah, but let’s get you out of that clothes and into the blankets on the couch, okay?” Virgil smiled at him.
“M’kay. If you insist. B’ can we sn’ggle after?” Patton shifted a bit as Virgil helped him out of his jacket and shoes.
Virgil breathed a small laugh. “Of course!”
After they’d finally settled on the couch, two pairs of footsteps could be heard. Patton was too tired to even look at who it was.
“Hey, hon. How you feelin’?” Remy. One of Virgil’s dads. He was answered with silence. He was too tired. “That tired, huh? Well, it won’t do that you sleep on the couch. Virgil can take you to his room for you two to continue snuggling.” And just like that, someone picked him up. Patton let out a tiny yelp, but other than that, he gave no reaction.
Next thing he knew, he was layn in a warm and soft bed with Virgil snuggling close to him again. And they fell asleep like that.
Next morning, Patton woke up to someone carding their fingers gently through his hair. And Patton was so content with that. If he were a cat, he would’ve started purring loudly. Instead, his stomach grumbled. Very loudly. The carding fingers stopped.
“Morning, Pat. Sleep well?” Virgil whispered. Virgil. Virgil was the one carding his fingers through his hair. Please don’t stop! As though sensing his thoughts, Virgil started again. Oh, Patton was so content. And to answer his question, Patton snuggled closer to Virgil. That got a small laugh out of him. “Come on, sleepyhead. Dad made breakfast. And from the way, your stomach just growled, you need food real bad, and pronto.”
Patton sighed. He knew Virgil was going to bring it up from last night. Well, this morning, really. “What time’s ‘t?” he asked sleepily.
“It’s almost 11 o’clock. So I guess it’s technically brunch Dad made.” Virgil huffs out a laugh. “Neither of us wanted to wake you up after last night. Did you even sleep at all before calling me?”
Patton sheepishly shook his head. He hadn’t even realised he’d called that late. He must’ve been so caught up in his thoughts that hours seemed like seconds. Virgil hugged him tighter. “I’m so sorry, Patton. Sorry I couldn’t have been there for you sooner. But you’re here now, and I’m not letting you go back there!” Virgil said fiercely. Oh, how Patton loved Virgil. Always there for him. How could he have doubted him for even a second? Patton was such a lousy friend for doing that.
“Thanks, Vee. You have no idea how much this means to me. But I can’t stay. You know that. They are paying for my college degree. They’ll pull the money if I leave for good,” Patton sighed.
“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but overhear,” came a voice from the doorway. “But if they do that, we’ll be more than happy to pay. It’s no problem, Patton.”
“Hey, Dad.” Oh. It was Emile. “Is Logan up?” A pause. “Good, I think he might be able to help us with Patton,” Virgil responded to the most likely nod he got from Emile.
They got out of bed and went downstairs a few minutes later. Patton’s growling stomach got too much for him to handle. And downstairs sat Virgil’s parents, Remy and Emile, and Virgil’s older brother, Logan. At the table was so much food, Patton didn’t know what to think.
“Merry Christmas, Patton. Welcome to the family,” Virgil said gently, never once letting go of his hand. They sat down and started to eat.
“Wow, slow down there, babes. You’re gonna get a stomachache if you don’t,” Remy warned as Patton basically swallowed the food. “When was the last time you ate, hon?”
Patton swallowed. He really didn’t want to answer that. But he had to. He could feel Virgil’s hand in his give a comforting squeeze. He could feel Logan’s gaze on him. “I- I don’t remember. Maybe dinner, the day before yesterday?” The room got quiet.
“You didn’t eat at all yesterday?” Emile then quietly asked. Patton shook his head.
“Patton. If your parents were starving you, why didn’t you call for us? You know this isn’t healthy,” Logan gently joined the conversation. He was a med student, so Patton usually always listened to him.
Patton shrugged and poked to some eggs with his fork. “Dunno.”
“Hey, it’s okay, Patton. You’re here now. I’m not letting you go back to them. Ever!” Virgil squeezed Patton’s hand and gave him a comforting smile. Patton smiled back and mouthed ‘thanks’.
Bruch lasted for another twenty minutes, all of them quietly talking about anything and everything, but avoiding the topic of Patton’s home, for which he was grateful.
Around noon, everyone was snuggled up in the living room laughing and munching cookies and drinking hot chocolate. The family exchanged gifts, Patton watching in joy. He always loved watching people give presents to others. They got such a child-like and giddy look on their faces. That made Patton sad again. His parents never once appreciated anything he made for them. He never got to see that look on their faces, either. And they hadn’t called or texted. They’d given no sign that they knew Patton wasn’t home, given no indication that they knew he was missing.
Virgil noticed, of course. He was very observant of other people. He gently squeezed the hand he still hadn’t let go of since they woke up. “Hey, got you a gift, ya know. Let me just get it,” Virgil whispered in Patton’s hair. He kissed it before letting go of Patton’s hand to retrieve it from his room.
He wasn’t gone long, but to Patton, it felt like forever. Emile, in the meantime, had come and taken Virgil’s place and had started carding his fingers through Patton’s hair now.
Patton heard a shuffling noise from the kitchen and turned around a smidge. There stood Virgil, a rather large, and soft-looking, present in his hand. “Logan- Logan helped me with this, so if you hate it, blame it on him.” Logan gave a small huff and mumbled something along the lines of “he won’t hate it, and if he does, you drew the sketch” and Patton had no idea what they were talking about.
“Huh? I’m positive I won’t hate it! You made it, after all, Vee,” Patton smiled at him, a sincere one. Virgil gave him a smile in return and shuffled over to the couch to give it to Patton.
“Move, Dad. Patton’s mine!” Virgil chuckled as he gave the present to Patton.
Patton carefully opened it. It was rare for him to get presents, so he savoured the feeling of unwrapping it. And what Patton unwrapped had him in awe and tears. He slowly took out the fabric inside the plastic wrap and held it up. It was a cat hoodie! With a pouch, it seemed! This was beautiful!
“I- uh- I made it myself. With Logan’s help. Do you- do you like it?” Virgil asked, getting very insecure and self-conscious. That would not do! This was a wonderful present! The best he’d ever gotten!
“Like it? Virgil, I LOVE IT!” Patton basically cooed, while hugging the hoodie close to him. “You made this?! It’s incredible! It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” Patton quietly added. And Virgil beamed. How could Patton resist? He flung himself into a bone-crushing hug at Virgil. “Thank you SO much, Vee,” he mumbled into Virgil’s shoulder.
“I’m thrilled you like it, Pat. But maybe check inside the pouch?” Virgil laughed, a tear falling from his eye at indirectly learning that this might be the first time Patton’s gotten a decent gift for once.
Patton immediately let go of Virgil to do as he said. He looked inside the pouch, and there was a cat plushy! Homemade, from the looks of it! Black and grey, with one purple eye and one baby-blue eye! It was adorable! And Patton loved it! He hugged it tightly and started quietly crying. “This is so nice of you, Virgil. It’s so adorable!” Patton sniffed.
“I thought about what you said, back when we first met. You know, about your favourite animals being cats but you being allergic to them? I thought this was as close I could get to actually giving you one,” Virgil said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. Patton looked up at him with teary eyes. Oh, Virgil was never letting Patton go back to his parents.
“Thank you SO MUCH, Virgil,” Patton whispered, pouring all his emotions into those five words, before hugging Virgil again. “I’m gonna name her Shadow.”
Virgil reciprocated the hug before whispering in Patton’s ear: “You’re very welcome, Patton. Anything for you. You deserve to be happy.”
Patton, all of a sudden, reared back. Virgil was confused but started thinking he’d said something wrong. “I totally forgot all about your present! Where’s my bag? I’ll be right back!” Patton exclaimed after Remy pointed in the direction of his bag, sprinting to retrieve it.
And right back Patton was. He’d been careful with handling the bag, but he was very giddy about Virgil opening it. But also very nervous. He handed it to Virgil before sitting back down next to him, barely able to contain his excitement and dread. Because, what if Virgil hated it? What if-
A hand landed softly on his shoulder. Patton looked over to look into Logan’s dark blue eyes. “Breathe with me, Patton. 4-7-8. There’s no need to be concerned. Let’s get your mind steered away from the cognitive distortions, shall we?” Logan spoke softly. Patton nodded. Logan was kind. He was good at this.
After a few breathing rounds, Patton felt much better and signalled this to Virgil. Virgil then proceeded to carefully open Patton’s gift. His eyes went comically big. “This is- I- you made this?!” Virgil exclaimed, at a loss for other words. He was in awe. In front of him laid a black hoodie with lots of purple plaid patches scattered around. The cuffs had zippers sewn into them so, they were easier to put on.
“Yeah. I know how you loved that other hoodie. You were so sad when it got ruined for good by those bullies. I thought I’d make you a new one, but one that matches you better than the black and grey one. Looks like we had the same gifts ideas,” Patton chuckled. “Do you like it?”
“Yes, Patton! I love it!” Now it was Virgil’s turn to tackle hug Patton. “And you made it yourself! This must have taken forever!”
Patton returned the hug in full. Tears of happiness that Virgil liked his gift rolled down his cheeks. “It did. I had to work a lot to save up the money I needed to get the fabrics and make sure mom and dad didn’t find any of them. But it was worth it! Don’t even start with saying it’s not worth me saving up my money, mister! Because you are!”
The two best friends stayed that way for a long time before separating to put on their new hoodies. They cuddled up on the couch after that, Patton in between Virgil and Logan. He was very content. He would never give this up for anything!
They talked for what seemed like hours before settling on watching movies. All was peaceful and tranquil. Patton hoped it would never end.
But of course, all good times must come to an end. Patton's phone chimed. The only other people who would call him was in the room with Patton. So it could only mean that it was his parents calling. The air got eerie quiet. Nobody moved a muscle. In the end, Emile picked it up. “Hello?”
“PATTON! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?! GET BACK HERE, RIGHT NOW!!” someone shouted on the other end. Emile winched.
“I’m afraid this is Emile Picani you’re speaking with. Not. Patton.” Emile’s voice had a forced cheeriness to it. “How may I help you?”
Shuffling. “Where is our son, Picani?” a female voice said. Patton could clearly hear the ice in her voice and see the scowl on her face. His mother was not a very nice person.
“He’s staying with us. He called Virgil during the night and wanted to exchange gifts. Time got out of hand.”
“Well. Isn’t that just great? Thank you for finding him, but please tell him to come home immediately.” Her voice was devoid of any kind of emotions now. The only thing you could detect was the ice.
“I’m afraid Patton told us he didn’t want to. And since he’s 18, he’s legally an adult and can, therefore, make such decisions on his own. Contact the police, and they will tell you the same. And I will inform them that you have been starving him. Is. That. Clear?” No one in the household had ever heard such a tone of voice come out of Emile Picani’s mouth.
The line on the other end went quiet. “Fine. Keep the brat. He’s no good anyway. We’re cutting off his college fonds. See how well you like him now.” The line cut off. The house was silent.
“What a pleasant woman. Well. It’s settled. You’re staying with us, Patton. For good,” Emile smiled. Patton hugged Emile close when he came over. “They should never have been allowed to become parents if they didn’t even have decent humanity encoded in their bones. I can’t even tell they are your parents, Patton. You are one of the most amazing human beings on this planet! Never change.” Emile kissed Patton’s hair before releasing him from the hug and going back to snuggle with Remy “And don’t worry about college. We’ll pay. It’s no problem.” Patton went back to receiving cuddles from Virgil and Logan. They were his new family. And they would never leave. Never harm him on purpose. Never force him to be anything he wasn’t.
Patton usually dreaded Christmas. But from this Christmas and forward, he might come to look forward to it. “Thank you, Virgil,” Patton whispered before dozing off. They’d need to return to get his things, but for now, he would cuddle.
Endnotes: Hey there. So, how'd you like that? It got a bit out of hand at the end... heh.
And yeah, before the dialogue began, that was all my experiences with my parents. The fighting was exaggerated, and I didn't have anyone to turn to for help, or telling me to get away. I'm still here. Not gonna move away before University. Still about a year and a half for that. I also don't have the economy to move away just yet. Also, haven't really told anyone about this... Let's just say I wasn't exactly looking forward to Christmas this year... or ever.
Also, someone PLEASE!!! Draw that cat plushie!! Because I can't for the life of me do it!! You get to experiment with how it looks, it just has to be black and grey with one purple and one baby-blue eye!! It has to be roughly the size of a young-adult cat and be cute as heck!!
Little Roman, lying in bed: I am decayed. My lungs are full of thorns and mildew. My bones are held together by vines. I am fragile. Be gentle with my corpse
Emile, holding Roman’s backpack: You are going to school whether you like it or not
