Virgil hadn’t paid much attention to which direction he’d run when fleeing from Roman’s room, and had ended up still inside an adjacent wall when Jamie came in. Humans were loud, and he heard their entire conversation.
Logan was alive. And, if the word of a human was to be trusted, he was back home. Safe. Virgil felt weak with relief.
But with this good news came terrible. Jamie, the one they had thought to be unpowered, had a terrifying ability. Ey could see their footprints, even when they didn’t leave any tracks visible under normal circumstances. Virgil’s flesh crawled with the realization that Jamie had known they were there all along.
And he hated the nicknames the human had given him and his brothers. Periwinkle. Cerulean. Violet. Jamie was far too comfortable naming them. As though ey thought they were some sort of pets. Even worse was how Roman immediately followed along with it.
At least Roman seemed to understand that he should never be allowed to so much as see a borrower ever again, let alone touch one of them. Even if Jamie didn’t appear to agree.
After the humans fell silent, Virgil sighed, pushing himself to his feet. He really should go home. If Patton had really been desperate enough to ask Jamie to rescue him from Roman, his brothers must be really worried about him right now.
Even so, he didn’t run. Something made Virgil drag his feet as he walked back home, so that the return trip took much longer than the initial journey. But finally, Virgil pushed open the door and edged into the room.
Logan was sitting in the soft chair, looking like he might be asleep. Patton paced anxiously in front of him. When Patton spotted Virgil, he called out in joy and rushed to him.
Virgil allowed himself to be hugged, but he didn’t squeeze Patton back.
After several moments, Patton pulled back, putting his hands on Virgil’s shoulders and looking into his face. “Virge, buddy, you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
Virgil shook his head. “I’m okay.” Physically. “Roman never even touched me.”
“That was a very foolish thing you did.” Logan, it turned out, was not asleep. He was looking sternly at Virgil, who hung his head.
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Not to mention wholly unnecessary,” Logan continued. “But… it was also very brave. And you did it to rescue me. I… I appreciate it. Thank you.”
Virgil peeked up at him. Logan was smiling gently now. Then he looked stern again.
“But don’t ever do that again, you hear me?” Logan scolded.
“Yes, Logan,” Virgil said. He’d be glad to obey. That had been terrifying. “How… how did you get away?”
Logan shifted in his seat, and winced in pain. Roman’s voice rang in Virgil’s memory again. “I squeezed him… I almost crushed him.” Obviously the human hadn’t been exaggerating.
“Jamie rescued me,” Logan said after the wave of pain had apparently passed. “Turns out ey’re actually decent, for a human. Ey made Roman let me go, and brought me downstairs to an entryway.”
Logan had been held by both humans today. The thought made Virgil’s stomach twist. “Jamie knows about all of us,” he blurted. “I heard em telling Roman.”
The other two borrowers stiffened. They exchanged glances, and Patton nodded, wringing his hands nervously.
“We… we know,” he said. “Jamie told Logan, too. A-and I asked em to rescue you.”
Virgil made a face. “Well, that was brave but unnecessary too,” he said, more snappily than he intended. “I got away on my own. And now, both of the humans know we’re here. All three of us.”
Virgil stormed past his brothers, flopping onto another seat. This one had been a child’s toy, cloth and stuffing shaped to resemble a tiger, but it had been left behind when that family moved out, and it made a good sofa.
“We’re moving out, right?”
“Yes,” Logan started, but Patton interrupted him.
“Not until Logan’s healed up some,” he said firmly. Logan tried to protest, but Patton continued. “You’re in no condition to travel, Logan, and you know it. It’s a wonder you made it back home without fainting. In a few days, when you can stand and walk without support or having to rest every five steps, then we can talk about moving.”
Logan sighed, settling back in his chair. “Fine.”
Virgil buried his face in the tiger-sofa with a groan. “I’d be delighted to never see Roman again,” he said into the cloth.
There was silence for a few moments, and then Virgil looked over at his brothers again. “How are you holding up?” he asked. “No bones broken, I hope?”
Logan shook his head, but Patton answered for him. “No bones broken,” he echoed with relief. “There’s a lot of bruising, though, and breathing hurts, so he’s mostly been not doing that.” He ran his fingers through Logan’s hair. “He’ll make a full recovery, I’m sure, if we can take care of the borrowing til he’s healed up, and get him some medicine.”
Virgil nodded decidedly. “We shouldn’t need to go out for a while anyway, except for that medicine,” he said, “since Logan and I went out earlier today.”
“Mm-hm,” Patton agreed.
Virgil sighed. He wondered how borrowing would have to change now that the humans knew about them, while they couldn’t move out yet. Roman had seemed to feel bad about what he had done to Logan, but he was still a human, and Virgil worried he might set out traps. Then there was Jamie. If ey really had known they were there all along — Virgil shuddered again at the thought — perhaps nothing would change where ey were concerned. But then again, now that they knew that ey knew, maybe everything would change. It was a good thing they didn’t need to go out soon. They could watch the humans, see how they altered their routines. Virgil doubted either would forget today’s events, but he could still hope.
“Oh!” Patton said, perking up. “There is one borrowing trip we can do without leaving the walls. There’s a cookie behind the stove, I left it just inside the door cause I couldn’t carry it by myself, Virgil, you and I’ll have to go get it.”
“Okay,” Virgil said, wondering vaguely why there was a cookie. Had Patton climbed up onto the counter to get it after Virgil had told him about them? The one he and Logan were trying for they’d never gotten off the counter. He decided that the why wasn’t all that important. They had a cookie to get, and it would stretch their supplies even further. Virgil got to his feet. “Let’s go, then.”
Patton brushed Logan’s hair off his forehead. “Will you be okay while we’re out?” he asked. Logan nodded. “Okay,” Patton said. “Try to get some rest.”
Sorry to be a pain in the butt, butt how's the progress on Virgil the Wee Vampire and Supersides sides going? I've been binging the fics for a while, and I really like them. I'm just so curious to see what will happen next!
They've been stalled for a bit, and I haven't written anything for either of them in a while, but I can try to get back in the groove. Glad to hear you like them!
fyi i am not great at drawing anatomy AT ALL buuut i love the sides and superheroes and just wanted to try doing it
ill give little descriptions but please feel free to suggest something else about their powers/costumes or backstories or anything really <3
virgil ♡
so the inspo was definitely mostly raven from teen titans. i think his power would be controling the weather or shadows or clouds maybe... possibly even void sentry powers maybee? he CAN fly ! i think he would have a pretty good grip of his powers but would be anxious to use them, so he would only use them if absolutely necessary
logan ♡
i am so terrible at drawing arms BUT ANYWAYS
he is maybe like rudy from invincible or maybe like oracle,, he doesnt go out into the field, or if he does he has a ton of inventions that would keep him safe. he plans out everything that needs to be done and he CAN get scary so everyone else listens to him (mostly).
yeah so thats all i got for now
i hope that ill get better and get to re draw them but much better in the future :p
Roman had almost worked up the will to get off tumblr and put his pajamas on so he could fall asleep, when there came another knock on his door.
"Come in," he called, not wanting to bother getting up.
The door opened to reveal Jamie on the other side. After a moment, ey came in.
"What's up?" Roman asked, dropping his phone onto his chest. "You get Logan home alright?" He tried not to sound bitter about it, but he didn't think it was working.
"Yes," Jamie said. "But… Roman, you haven't captured another borrower, have you?"
"What? No!" Roman sat up quickly, offended that Jamie thought he didn't know better by now. He scowled at em. "You wanna check my hands?" he asked, thrusting them toward Jamie. "Look, they're clean. No borrowers."
Jamie actually did look his hands over, and Roman hated that ey didn't trust his word. But that was what he got for being a kidnapper, he supposed.
"Alright, I believe you," Jamie said. "You haven't touched anyone since Logan."
Roman huffed. "You're right I haven't. You needn't sound so surprised."
"Sorry," Jamie said. "It's just… I was told you'd captured someone, and was asked to rescue him."
Roman frowned in confusion. "I didn't," he said. "I've barely even seen another borrower since you and Logan left."
Jamie blinked at him. "But you saw one?"
"Yeah." Roman gestured to the place where the little guy had stood. "He came in, through my closet I think, and tried to trade himself for Logan. I told him you'd taken Logan home, and he ran off."
Jamie turned and looked. Roman had the distinct feeling ey saw more over there than he did.
"I didn't even touch him!" he said, desperate for Jamie to believe him.
"No, of course not," Jamie said distractedly. "He didn't come anywhere near you, and it looks like you haven't moved from your bed since I was here earlier."
That was… scarily accurate. Roman nodded silently.
"But then why would Periwinkle say you had him?" Jamie murmured softly.
"There's a borrower named Periwinkle?" Roman asked. Jamie jumped, and Roman realized that ey hadn't meant to speak aloud.
"No…" Jamie said. "That's just what I've been calling him in my head, since I don't know his name," ey explained reluctantly.
"Why Periwinkle?" Roman asked, frowning in thought. "That's a flower, right?"
"And a color. It's a really light blue. That's the color footprints he leaves behind, so that's what I've been calling him."
So Jamie's power was the ability to literally see where people had walked. "What's my color?" Roman asked, pure curiosity.
"Red." Jamie had been half distracted during the rest of the conversation, but now ey looked right at him. "A very bright red. It suits you."
Roman grinned at that. "What about the other borrowers? Logan, and the one who came and yelled at me?"
Jamie looked hesitant for a moment. Then ey answered, "Cerulean and Violet. A dark blue, and a dark purple. Your hands are pretty covered in blue, but there's not a smidgen of purple. Or light blue."
Roman nodded. "So… I haven't got Violet," he said, getting back on track, "but the other borrowers don't know where he is either, or they wouldn't have asked you to… to rescue him from me." The word 'rescue' felt sour in his mouth, and he regretted that it was the right word. "So where is he?"
"I don't know," Jamie admitted. Ey went over to the wall where the borrower had stood, following his path. Roman thought about going with, but he figured it might be better to keep his distance from any borrowers worried he'd grab them, so he stayed put. When Jamie reached Roman's closet, ey asked, "Mind if I open this?"
Roman waved a hand. "Go ahead."
Jamie slid the door open. Roman was glad he kept his closet more or less neat as his housemate crouched to get a good look at the floor. Then ey came back out and shut the door again.
"Looks like he was in a hurry, but he got into the wall," ey said. Roman wondered where the entrance was, but he didn't ask. He didn't want to make himself an even bigger threat.
"Maybe he just hadn't gotten back home yet when Periwinkle set out to ask you for help?" Roman suggested. "If he knew Violet was coming to, um, to trade himself to me for Logan, it would make sense that he'd think I had him."
"I hope that's the case…" Jamie said with a sigh.
"I'm sure he'll find his way home soon enough," Roman said soothingly. "And then… I dunno, they'll probably move out." He sighed. "I'm a danger, obviously. Can't be trusted around borrowers."
"Roman," Jamie started, but Roman cut him off.
"I almost crushed him, Jamie! I didn't mean to hurt him, but I did. I could have killed him, and he knew it sooner than I did. You saw how he was looking at me. Any time I moved toward him, or said anything, or even looked at him, he flinched!" Roman looked down at his hands. "I snapped at him," he admitted thickly. "He almost ate the arnica, and I panicked and yelled at him. The way he reacted…" Roman's vision blurred, and he squeezed his eyes tightly closed, pulling his legs up to hug them to his chest. "I'm sure he thought I was going to kill him. Right then and there."
"Roman," Jamie said again. Roman turned his face away. "Roman." When Roman still wouldn't look, Jamie sighed. "Yeah, you messed up. And yeah, Logan's probably terrified of you. But you didn't mean to, that's got to count for something, right?"
Roman grunted. He wasn't sure it did count against such actions. "Lotta good that does him. 'Sure, you almost got crushed to death, but at least it wasn't malicious.'" He finally looked up at Jamie again, rolling his eyes to match the sarcasm. "Face it. I'm just not to be trusted around borrowers. It's fine."
Roman got home from rehearsal, tired and wanting to go to bed. He detoured through the kitchen first, though, remembering the plate of cookies his roommate had said to help himself to. But when he got to the kitchen, Roman stopped short at what he saw. Two tiny figures, carrying a cookie between them, stood on the counter. They stared back at him for a second. Then the one in the front hissed something at the other, which Roman couldn't quite make out, and they pitched the cookie to the side and started running.
Roman darted forward a second later. The borrower in back quickly outstripped the other, and was nearly at the wall when Roman reached the counter. An instant later, he'd scrambled over the back of the stove and vanished. Roman grabbed at the other borrower, and was surprised that he actually managed to snag him. Roman pulled away from the counter, opening his hands just a little so he could peek inside. He half expected to find something else trapped in his fist, but there he was. A tiny man lay on Roman's palm, looking back up at Roman with wide eyes.
"A borrower," Roman whispered in wonder, and the little man flinched. Roman glanced back at the cookie on the counter. "And you were borrowing a cookie," he said, picking it up.
The borrower's eyes flicked back and forth between Roman's face and his currently cookie-occupied hand. Then he surged upward, scrambling over Roman's thumb. With a yelp, Roman dropped the cookie and snatched at him, barely managing to catch the borrower by his leg before he could land on the counter. For a moment he was frozen as the borrower squirmed in his grip, flailing around upside-down but oddly silent. Then Roman got him back into his hands, curling his fingers more firmly around him. The borrower scrabbled at Roman's fingers, but Roman closed his fist firmly around the little guy's torso and gave him a stern, "no escaping" look.
The borrower fell still, though Roman could feel a rapid, frightened heartbeat against his fingers. He could not, he noticed, feel the borrower breathing. Roman loosened his grip a bit. Picking the cookie up again, he glanced back at the stove. The other borrower was probably long gone by now. Roman left the kitchen with his captive, heading for his room.
Roman closed his bedroom door behind him and sat down on his bed. He lifted the borrower up to his face, and the tiny man started to squirm again, looking terrified. Roman felt a little bit bad for basically kidnapping him. "I won't hurt you," he tried to assure him, but the glare the borrower gave him made it clear he thought it was an empty promise, or at least worthless coming from someone who was actively holding him captive. Roman sighed.
"I'll let you go," he said. "Just… not yet."
He got a similar look for that promise, and Roman looked away, feeling guiltier. The borrower started to squirm in his grasp again. Roman didn't really blame him. He was trapped in a fist from the chest down, and even his strongest efforts weren't enough to budge Roman's fingers. Roman loosened his grip a bit, giving him some more room. Obviously it wasn't enough, because the borrower continued to scrabble in Roman's fist, trying to get out.
"I'll… I can hold you in an open hand instead," Roman offered. The borrower paused in his struggles for a moment to look up at him calculatingly. Then he nodded. "Only," Roman added, "I don't… you have to promise not to jump off again." The tiny man responded with a scowl, and Roman rushed on. "I'm sorry, I know, you don't want to stay. But I promise, I will let you go. Today, even. Just, please, don't run off on me yet?"
The borrower grimaced, and Roman realized suddenly that his grip had tightened again while he anxiously explained himself. Quickly, he loosened it again. The borrower, looking pained, pushed at Roman's fingers to get him to loosen his fist even further.
"Please?" Roman begged.
The borrower glared at him. Then, grimacing still, he nodded. Roman loosened his grip and set the borrower on his other hand, which he held open.
"Better?" he asked hopefully.
The borrower slowly nodded. Then he winced, putting a hand on his side.
Concerned, Roman lifted the borrower closer to his face, earning himself a flinch and a flail as the little guy fell over in his hand to get away. "Sorry," Roman said, not sure which thing he was apologizing for. Maybe all of them. "I… I didn't mean to…" He swallowed, hard. "I hurt you. Didn't I?"
The borrower didn't answer, just curling in on himself in Roman's hand. Roman felt even guiltier. He'd promised not to hurt the little guy, but he'd already done it by accident.
"How… how bad is it?" he dared to ask. The borrower groaned, the first sound Roman had heard out of him since before he'd even touched him. "Let me see," Roman requested, but the borrower just curled into a tighter ball.
Roman used a finger from his free hand to roll the borrower onto his back. The borrower flailed again, and his eyes, which had been shut a second before, flew open. He lay in Roman's hand, staring up at him with something like terror.
"Let me see," Roman said again, hoping that he sounded both kind and firm. He didn't know how well he did, but the borrower slowly obeyed, uncurling to expose his stomach and chest.
Roman moved to lift the tiny shirt, and the borrower flinched, looking away. Roman froze, fingers still inches away from the tiny form. "I need you to lift your shirt," he said instead.
This wasn't much better in terms of how frightened the borrower looked, but at least the tiny man obeyed, gripping the hem of his shirt with trembling hands and pulling it up to reveal a thin torso with finger shaped bruises already forming.
Roman hissed sympathetically through his teeth. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. Then he frowned, noticing something. The borrower, shaking from head to toe, wasn't breathing.
"Hey. Breathe," Roman said. The borrower flinched at his voice, and then took in a shaky breath. He immediately cried out in pain, and Roman winced. "I'm sorry, I'm sure breathing hurts, but you gotta keep doing it."
The borrower looked up at him with tears in his eyes, but he kept breathing, if shakily and shallowly.
Roman got back up, and the borrower in his hand shook. "You can put your shirt back, for now," Roman said, trying to sound as gentle as he could. The tiny man pulled it down. Roman felt really bad about injuring him, but he was going to do his best to make it right.
Carrying the trembling borrower, Roman left his room and, with a glance to make sure Jamie wasn't around to see them (even though he was sure ey wasn't even in the house), ducked into the bathroom right across the hall and shut the door behind him. He set the little man down on the counter, where he glanced around. "Please don't run," Roman said, and the borrower stiffened again. Slowly, keeping his frightened gaze on Roman, the little man sat down on the counter as if to say, "Look, I'm not running. Not even thinking about running."
He obviously was worried about what Roman would do to him if he disobeyed. Roman's guilty feelings increased. He rummaged through the medicine cabinet instead of looking at the borrower anymore. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. But as Roman unscrewed the lid from the little silver tube, he hesitated. "I'm… going to have to ask you to take your shirt off," he said at last. The borrower gave him a pleading glance, but moved to do as Roman said. Soon, he was shivering in the open air. And not breathing, again, Roman noted with a frown.
"I know it hurts to breathe," he said gently, squeezing a dollop of clear goo out of the tube onto his finger. "And I'm sorry I have to ask you to do something that hurts. But you gotta keep breathing, buddy."
The borrower's shaking increased, but he started breathing again. Roman lowered his finger in front of him.
"Here," he said. "It's arnica gel." The borrower looked at it in confusion, and Roman added, "It'll help your bruises heal faster. Take some."
Shakily, the borrower scooped up a handful of the gel. It wasn't even a third of the dollop, and Roman realized that he might have squeezed out too much. Looking up at Roman, the borrower lifted the gel to his mouth.
"No!" They were both startled with the sharpness of Roman's exclamation. The borrower flinched, and then curled into a fetal position, protecting his head and neck with his arms like he expected Roman to crush him with a blow. Roman let out a tense breath. "You don't eat it," he said, more gently. "It's poisonous. You rub it on the bruises."
Slowly, the borrower uncurled. The gel he'd taken had gotten lost somewhere when he flinched, and Roman wordlessly offered him some more. The borrower took another handful, and tentatively spread it on one of the fresh bruises covering his chest. He winced, and Roman apologized again,
"I'm sorry, it's cold, I know. But it will help."
He leaned over and glanced at the borrower's back. It wasn't as bruised as his front, but Roman still worried that the little guy wasn't going to be able to reach the bruises that were there.
"Look… I know I'm the last person you want help from right now," he said, and the borrower looked up at him for a moment before going back to spreading arnica gel over his bruises. Roman continued, "But I'm not sure you'll be able to reach the bruises on your back. So I'll put the gel on them." The borrower visibly stiffened. It was painfully obvious how little he wanted Roman to touch him. Roman felt like the guilt would swallow him whole. He tried to assuage it with the fact that he was trying to make things better, but that didn't work very well.
The borrower didn't tell him no, but by this point Roman was pretty sure that he'd accidentally crushed any thoughts of rebellion out of the little guy.
"I'll be gentle." The promise felt bitter in his mouth. Hadn't Roman also promised not to hurt the borrower at all, just before almost squeezing the life out of him? Roman bit his lip, deciding to just do it. He leaned over the frightened borrower again and touched the gel on his finger to the bruises forming on his back. The borrower flinched at the first touch, but continued to rub the gel on his chest while Roman rubbed it into his back. He was holding his breath again, Roman noticed, but he didn't scold him this time. For one thing, he was holding his own breath to better concentrate on his task. As carefully and delicately as he could, Roman massaged the clear gel into each of the borrower's bruises.
Finally, he finished. Roman pulled away, letting out the breath he'd been holding. "I'm done," he promised, crouching in front of the counter. "How are you coming along?"
The borrower looked up for a moment, and then gestured to his bruises. Most of them had a thin coating, and he was finishing up on the last one.
Roman hesitated, wondering how to break it to him. "You have to rub it in," he said at last. "So your skin will absorb it."
The borrower glanced up again. Then he sighed and nodded, going back over the bruises and rubbing the gel in. Finally, he was done.
Roman was going to ask if he felt any better, but he had a feeling that the borrower would answer in the affirmative, whether or not it was true, in an attempt to appease him. So instead Roman just said, "Good job. You can put your shirt back on now."
Shivering, the borrower did so. Roman offered him a smile, but it felt fake, even to him. He looked away, putting the arnica back in the cabinet. Regretting the terrible first impression he'd made, Roman put his hand on the counter next to the borrower. "I won't even grab you this time," he said.
Getting onto Roman's hand seemed to be the thing the borrower wanted to do least in the world, but he forced himself to do it anyway. He sat in the middle of Roman's palm, stiff and shaking. Roman eyed him, and saw that the steady rise and fall that his chest should be doing was once again paused.
"Breathe," he reminded him. The borrower, cringing, obeyed, taking a deep breath that Roman could tell hurt him. "It can be little breaths," Roman said. "I just don't want you to pass out on me."
The borrower relaxed a little, but not much. Roman carried him back to his bedroom and sat down on his bed again. Where had he put that cookie? It might make a good peace offering. Ah! There it was, on Roman's pillow.
Roman lowered his hand to the blanket. "You can get off," he said, feeling his gut twist with the realization that without express permission, the borrower would probably remain in Roman's hand for fear that Roman wanted him to stay and would punish him for moving. He would have added, "but you don't have to if you'd rather not," but he was absolutely sure that the borrower didn't want to stay in his grip a second longer than he had to.
The borrower quickly scrambled off Roman's hand and sat down on the blanket instead, a few paces off (but still within easy arm's reach).
Roman picked the cookie up, breaking it in half. He set one half in front of the borrower. "You don't have to eat it if you don't want to," he assured the little guy. "But you may."
The borrower answered by breaking off a crumb and nibbling on it. Roman grinned in relief, taking a bite out of his half. For a moment, they sat in silence, just eating cookie together.
"My name's Roman," Roman blurted suddenly. Too suddenly, he realized, seeing the borrower flinch. He'd startled him. In a softer voice, Roman asked, "What's your name?"
The borrower relaxed, just a little. He said something, but it was too quiet for Roman to make out.
"Sorry, didn't quite catch that," Roman said, leaning closer. "Could you say it again?"
"Logan!" the borrower said, louder. Roman pulled away.
"Nice to meet you, Logan," he said, before realizing that that social script really didn't fit the situation. "Er. I mean." He sighed. "I know it wasn't nice to meet me. I'm sorry."
The borrower didn't answer.
Roman sighed again. "Look, Logan," he started, but he was interrupted by a knock on his door. He jolted, looking over at it. "That's my housemate," he said. He didn't want to expose Logan to more humans just yet, not after the bad experience he'd just given the poor guy. "I'll… I'll be right back," Roman said, getting up. "Um. Sorry. Again."
Roman grabbed his pillow, moving it to block the view of the borrower from the door. Jamie knocked again, and Roman went to answer the door.
Logan walked in through the door less than two minutes after Virgil ran out it.
“Logan!” Patton cried, bounding to his feet and grabbing his big brother in a hug.
Logan hissed in pain, and Patton quickly let go. “Careful, Pat,” Logan said with a wince. “I’m a little tender.“
"What happened?” Patton asked, concerned. He realized now that Logan had been limping a bit as he came in, as well. “Hang on, sit down first. Then tell.”
Logan let Patton guide him to a chair. It had once been a squishy rubber toy, but they’d borrowed it years ago, and now, with a soft cloth thrown over the top, it made a comfortable seat.
“You’re not breathing,” Patton observed. Since he knew Logan didn’t need to breathe, he wasn’t overly concerned, but Logan still flinched at his words.
“Yeah, it… hurts,” he said. “Less now, but I’d rather not.”
Patton nodded. “Lemme just take care of your injuries, then, and you can tell me later, okay?” he said. Logan gave him a grateful smile, nodding. “Alright, show me where it hurts,” Patton ordered kindly, shifting into ‘Doctor Dad’ mode, even though he was the youngest.
Logan took his shirt off, and Patton winced sympathetically at the bruises covering his torso. Luckily, there was no broken skin, though if there had been at least Patton would have been able to do something about it. With bruises, they couldn’t do much but wait, and perhaps borrow an ice cube. Patton knelt in front of Logan, gently feeling his ribs. Logan hissed in pain, but let him continue.
Logan’s ribs were intact, and Patton breathed a relieved sigh. A broken rib would have taken much longer to heal than even the deepest bruises.
“How much does it hurt?”
Logan held up four fingers, in reference to a pain scale on an old discarded card they’d found years ago. Constantly thinking about it, but able to do things, Patton interpreted.
“But it was,” Logan said, and winced as that aggravated his ribs. He held up seven fingers. In pain all the time, prevents most activities. “We need to borrow… in the bathroom, arnica.”
“That helped with the pain?” Patton guessed, and Logan nodded. “I’ll get some.”
Logan suddenly looked around. “Where’s Virgil?”
Patton hesitated. “He… he didn’t rescue you?”
Logan shook his head, confusion and worry both building in his expression. “No, Jamie… Jamie did.”
The other human?
“Virgil went out to rescue you,” Patton said, worrying too. “He said… he said that I need you more than I need him, which is obviously false, I need both of you, but—”
“A trade,” Logan realized aloud. “He was planning a trade.”
Patton nodded tearfully.
“We have to stop him.” Logan tried to get up, but Patton put his hand on Logan’s shoulder and forced him back into his chair.
“We can’t, he’s too fast, and you’re injured!”
“But he’s going to sacrifice himself for nothing!” Logan grit out. “That human tortured me. I won’t let him do the same to Virgil!”
“W-well,” Patton suggested, hating the idea he was about to suggest, but not knowing what else they could even try. “You said Jamie rescued you, right? A-and made Roman let you go?”
Logan nodded. By his expression, Patton could see that he knew where this was going and didn’t like it any more than Patton did.
“Maybe we can ask em for help?”
Logan grimaced at the idea, but he nodded. “I’d do anything to get Virgil out of that human’s hands,” he said.
“Me too,” Patton agreed. “Even… even talk to Jamie.” He hesitated, then sighed. “Even if that would mean ey’d know about all three of us.”
Logan squirmed in his seat, looking like he had a secret he didn’t like. Patton looked inquisitively at him. “Ey… already know,” Logan said at last. “S'mthin’ bout eir power… ey’ve known since… always. That we were here.”
Patton blinked. “Jamie has a power?”
Logan nodded.
“What is eir power?” If ey’d been using it all this time without their knowledge, it couldn’t be as obvious a power as Roman’s, which, with his current lack of control over it, could hardly be kept a secret. No, whatever Jamie’s power was, it must be discreet.
Logan frowned. “I don’t know,” he said. The admission sounded like it hurt, and not just because it meant he had to breathe. He kept talking, interest in the puzzle overriding his pain. “Jamie said ey could tell when we’d been in rooms, and when ey confronted Roman… ey just looked at his hands and said that Roman had ‘obviously been handling’ me.” Logan frowned. “Ey could tell. Just by that. And, ey knew, even before, that Roman had interrupted Virgil and me out borrowing.”
“Multiple powers?” Patton suggested.
Logan shook his head. “Nobody has more than one power,” he said thoughtfully. “It has to be a multipurpose one.” Suddenly, he stopped, looking annoyed at himself for getting distracted. “Virgil!” Logan tried to get up again, but Patton stopped him once more. “Patton, we have to rescue Virgil!”
“You’re hurt and need to rest,” Patton said firmly. “You’re staying here. I’ll ask Jamie for help.” Logan opened his mouth to protest, but Patton frowned at him and continued. “If Jamie already knows about me, it’s no additional risk of exposure, is it?”
Logan made a face. Patton could see that his big brother was worried that Jamie, though ey seemed nice, would grab Patton, leaving Logan all alone. To be honest, Patton was concerned about that too. But he had to try.
“Any ideas where to find em?”
Logan glared for a moment, then sighed. “Try the kitchen.”
“Alright.” Patton leaned forward, kissing his brother on the forehead. “Get some rest, Lo. I’ll be back with Virgil soon.”
Logan sank into the chair with a weary nod.
Patton ran his fingers through Logan’s hair affectionately, and then he was off.
Patton wasn’t as fast as Virgil, and he’d never gone out of the walls alone before, but he made his way to the kitchen without too much difficulty. Standing behind the stove, he listened. There was a rustling noise up by the countertop. Someone was here. And it mightn’t be Jamie. Patton listened more closely. If only the human would say something! But then, if they did, it would likely mean that both humans were there.
Patton peered upwards. Then suddenly a human’s hand came into view in the space between the stove and the wall, way up above. It was holding something. Patton squinted at it, but before he could quite process what it was, the hand let go, and the thing plummeted down toward him.
Patton yelped, diving out of the way. The thing crashed down mere inches away from him. When it was still, Patton approached it cautiously. It was a cookie. Or rather, several pieces of a cookie, now, held together by a clear plastic wrapping. The cookie, when whole, must have been at least three inches in diameter, and nearly half an inch thick. Patton wondered why the human had dropped it behind the stove. And so intentionally, too.
“I’m sorry,” came a human’s voice. A second later, Patton recognized it as Jamie’s. “Was someone down there? I hope I didn’t hit you.”
Even though he had come there specifically to talk to Jamie, years of instincts didn’t go away just like that. Patton stood, silent and still, staring up at the gap.
There was silence for several seconds. Then Jamie sighed. “Hopefully that’s the silence of nobody being there, and not the silence of an unconscious borrower,” Patton heard em say. “I’ll just go, then.”
Patton’s eyes widened. No! He needed Jamie to stay! Before he could think too hard about what he was doing, Patton cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted upwards, “WAIT!”
Silence again.
Then Jamie said, “Alright. What is it?”
Good. Now Patton just had to get em to agree to help Virgil. He frowned for a moment, wondering how hard that would be. Then he shrugged. “Oh well,” he said to himself. “I got em to wait easily enough. Hopefully ey’ll listen too.” He started to climb the chain.
When Patton was about halfway up, Jamie spoke again. “Do… is there something you wanted to tell me? Um, not to be rude, but it’d be easier for me to wait if I knew there was a reason.”
Patton tried to climb faster. “Just a minute!” he called upward. Hopefully the human wouldn’t get impatient and walk off.
Thankfully, when Patton got to the top, Jamie was still there. Ey were leaning against the opposite counter, not looking his way. Patton peeked over the edge of the oven. He wasn’t quite comfortable being all the way out in the open with a human right there, even at a respectful distance across the kitchen, and he hoped Jamie wouldn’t be offended.
“Hey!” he called to get eir attention. Jamie looked up, and then looked over.
“Hey,” ey answered softly. Patton froze up for a second under eir gaze. There was silence for several moments, and Jamie spoke up first. “Logan get home alright?”
Patton nodded. “Y-yes. Thank you. For rescuing him.”
Jamie nodded, looking quite sincere. “Of course,” ey said. “Least I could do. But that can’t be all you’re here for. To thank me?”
“N-no.” Patton found he didn’t at all care for talking to a human, even one who’d rescued his brother. Jamie was just so big. “I… please. I have a— a favor. To ask.”
“What is it?” At least Jamie seemed willing to hear him out.
“My… my other brother,” Patton said. “I, we, we think… Roman’s got him. Please? You… you rescued Logan, can you—?”
“Of course!” Jamie said, pushing off from the counter quickly. Patton squeaked and ducked down behind the oven again. He heard a muffled expletive, and then Jamie said, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll go get Roman to let your brother go.”
Patton didn’t peek back over the oven, but he had to show his gratitude. “Thank you!” he called.
“You’re welcome,” Jamie said. “Take care climbing down, and enjoy that cookie, alright?”
“Oh-okay.”
Patton clung to the chain as Jamie left the room, listening as their footsteps faded. Then, with a sigh of relief, he slid back down. He had done what he could to rescue Virgil, and now he must go home and do what he could there. Logan might be trying to get up and do things instead of resting, and Patton should be there to stop him.
At the bottom of the chain, Patton realized that there was a great deal that needed to be brought home. In addition to the cookie, there were Logan and Virgil’s borrowing bags, left just inside the wall when they had climbed up earlier. Patton certainly couldn’t carry it all, not alone and not all at once.
He decided to take Logan’s bag, and leave the rest for later. The cookie really ought to be carried by two borrowers together, and Patton wanted to get home quickly.
Set in a world where powers are not uncomon, and borrowers definitely exist (and have powers just as often as humans do).
This originally wasn’t going to be a Sanders Sides story, but I needed more characters and they elbowed their way in. (Okay, Roman elbowed his way in and dragged the others along with him.)
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Prologue/Jamie Finds Evidence
Wordcount: 1K
[masterpost]
[More Stories]
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Jamie sometimes told people that eir power was the ability to see auras. It wasn’t a lie, strictly speaking, but it wasn’t entirely accurate either. Jamie wasn’t quite sure what it was ey saw, or if there was even a name for them, but ey were pretty sure that actual auras didn’t rub off on everything the person touched.
Sometimes Jaimie said that eir power was tracking. This wasn’t accurate either. That was just what ey most frequently used it for. Following someone for miles two days after they’d passed by was easy if their footsteps remained, glowing blue or scarlet or golden. It was slightly less easy if there had been heavy foot traffic, other footprints mingling with the ones ey sought, but Jamie had yet to meet two people with the exact same shade, and ey could usually pick out the prints ey wanted.
(“Not even twins?” ey’d been asked on multiple occasions. “Not even identical twins?”
“No,” ey’d answered each time, and sometimes added, “twins are rarely even in the same color group.”)
Ey did not tell people, not most people anyway, that disguises didn’t work on em. Putting on a mask didn’t do much when everyone glowed a distinct color. But secret identities were kind of really important, and Jamie had gotten good at pretending not to know that, for example, Clara (the barista down the street, and very good at her job) was also Shrinking Violet, the sizeshifting vigilante, on her days off. Ey did find this particular alias a bit amusing, since Clara was not violet, but the goldest goldenrod ey’d ever seen, but it was hardly eir place to say so.
Jamie also didn’t tell anyone that there were borrowers living in eir house. Jamie had known the first time ey came over to look at the place, of course. There were tiny hand- and foot-prints everywhere. Dark blue ones (a pretty cerulean), purple ones (a dark violet), and light blue ones (periwinkle, like the color of wispy clouds in springtime). Three borrowers, plus any that stayed in the walls all the time. The cerulean ones were most frequent, and Jamie figured they must belong to the main provider for the family. (It almost certainly had to be a family of some sort, or a close knit group of friends, because the footprints almost always went in pairs or trios, and Cerulean —since ey didn’t know their names, Jamie referred to them in eir head by their colors— was the only one who ventured out of the walls alone.)
Jamie didn’t mind the borrowers in the least. This wasn’t the first time ey’d lived with borrowers before, and ey rather liked knowing that someone was there even when the house seemed empty. (Jamie had briefly considered living in a haunted house, but being able to see ghosts was a different thing than being able to hear them, and from what ey’d heard, ghosts tended to be chatty. Best to leave the haunted houses to regular mediums.)
Aside from Jamie and the borrowers, the house had one other occupant: a young man about Jamie’s age, named Roman. Jamie and Roman didn’t know each other very well, but they had agreed to split the rent and generally stay out of each other’s way, and they got on alright. Sometimes they would have a meal together, or watch a movie, but they didn’t interact much otherwise. It wasn’t unfriendly, and in fact their occasional interactions were usually pleasant, but they were more ‘acquaintances’ than 'friends.’
One day, Jamie came home to find some disturbing marks in the kitchen. At first glance, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Roman’s footsteps (a very boisterous red that suited his personality to a T) came through the door, went to the counter on which a plate of cookies sat, and then went out again and upstairs. However, when Jamie looked at the counter at which Roman had stood, ey saw two sets of minuscule footprints. Dark blue and purple. Jamie traced their path with eir eyes.
The borrowers had entered by way of the gap between the oven and the wall, which was their usual entrance to the kitchen. They’d climbed over the top of the oven, hopped down onto the backboard, and from there onto the counter. There were a few handprints for steadying, mostly on the back of the stove, but not many, going this way. It did look like Cerulean had given Violet a hand down, though. There was a pair of dark blue footprints facing back toward the stove.
From there, the borrowers had gone straight to the plate of cookies Jamie had baked yesterday, and which ey’d offered freely to Roman. None of the cookies had marks on them, besides a smudge of red where Roman had accidentally brushed his fingers against one cookie while picking up another, and a few bits of green (dark, mossy) around their edges from Jamie arranging them on the plate, but a trail of purple footprints lead from the edge of the plate to near the pile of cookies, and then back again to where Cerulean had waited, so Jamie knew the borrowers must have taken one.
Ey would have been pleased with this except that about halfway back to their entrance/exit, the footprints changed. The borrowers had stood still, Cerulean a cookie’s length in front of Violet, and then the tracks were further apart, indicating running. Violet had a longer stride than Cerulean. And while Violet’s tracks made it all the way back to their entrance (with what looked like a panicked scramble up the baseboard and over the top of the stove), Cerulean’s just stopped mid-pace over six inches away. There was a red mark just in front of where Cerulean’s footprints stopped, as well as a few red fingerprints, each outsizing the borrowers’ footprints, off to the side.
All of this takes quite a while to read and even longer to say, but Jamie took it all in in a matter of seconds. Ey winced. Then, with a sigh, Jamie went upstairs to go have a talk with eir housemate.
