Chapter Text
“Ow!" Patton yelled pulling his hand back from the heated pans. He ran over to the freezer and jammed his hand into the bags of frozen peas.
Roman ran through the door wielding his sword yelling “Pattap!”
“Pattap!” Patton giggled, pulling his numbing hand out of the fridge. “That was pea-tty close Ro.”
Roman groaned slightly. “Are you alright padre?” Roman looked around the kitchen scanning for threats.
Mixing bowls were overflowing the sink, half full of water and plastered with cookie dough. A few rubber spatulas poked out, both handles and tips alike. The oven was open with nearly all the pans laying on the door which was bending under the weight. Broken egg shells littered the counter tops while plastic packaging and batter mix boxes covered the floor.
“Don’t tell Virgil!” Patton shrieked suddenly pulling Roman into a tight hug.
After a minute, Roman slowly got out of Patton’s death grip of a hug. Roman finally saw Patton’s reddening hand. “Pat, you can’t grab hot pans with your bare hand.” Roman placed a gentle kiss near Patton’s wrist, avoiding the singed skin.
“Don’t tell Virgil!” Patton tried again pulling his hand protectively to his chest. “Anyone can cook.” Patton added in a French accent.
“But not everyone can cook alone...” Roman narrowed his eyes seriously. “I’ll be right back.”
Patton opened his mouth, about to go again but Roman cut him off before he could. “Ligriv llet t’now I.”
Roman disappeared out of the kitchen before Patton could say anything in reply.
“Ligriv llet t’now I.” Patton whispered to himself, shaking his head in shame. Using his good hand he slowly attempted to get the kitchen cleaned up before Virgil showed up. Virgil would be upset about his inhjured hand. He didn’t also have to be upset about the state of his kitchen.
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“Verge?” Roman waited to allow Virgil to acknowledge that he had heard. Getting no response again, he cleared his throat for once last try. “Ligriv.”
Virgil’s head snapped up. Roman didn’t use their proper names. They always came out backwards, something Roman was horribly self-conscious about.
Roman’s tapping fingers calmed and he uncrossed his arms. He has been standing there for who knows how long trying to get Virgil’s attention. He let out a small huff.
“Pat got into the kitchen again.”
Roman braced, ready for Virgil to dart away into the kitchen. The room was silent. Roman slowly opened his eyes. Why hadn’t Virgil reacted? Had he said it backwards?
“Pat got into the kitchen again.” Roman repeated slowly furrowing his eyebrows. Roman moved his gaze slowly to Virgil’s face now visible face. Virgil was gazing intently at Roman’s right shoulder.
Virgil’s jaw flexed slightly. “No thank you.”
“Oh.” Roman gave a nervous laugh. He flourished his right hand. “Og tsuj ll’i.” He stuck out his tongue and dragged it back between his teeth raking away the words. “I’ll just go.”
Virgil dropped his head and curled back up in his spot on the couch. As Roman’s footsteps faded away, Virgil let out a quiet breath. Sometimes interacting with others wasn’t something he could handle. He had learnt that the sound of others around him was fine, but once the conversation was directed at him he just couldn’t do it.
He didn’t know where it came from, never did. His brain never told him anything. Ever. Virgil got used to riding it out without an idea of how to fix it. Logan of course had spent a lot of time researching trying to find a cause or way to help. He worked deep through the night into the morning, leaving Virgil feeling guilty. Regardless of all of their problems, Virgil couldn’t relax enough to talk about it with anyone. So Logan’s research was restricted to whatever he could gather though observations.
Logan had tried teaching him some sign language or suppling writing supplies but Virgil’s brain would just shut down the communication center almost completely. Through some work though, Virgil had gotten down to saying and signing a few words. It wasn’t much of a conversation... it was really just a way to say ‘Go away. I can’t do this now.’
The first time he had gotten out a small “No thank you,” Logan had gotten so excited. He prodded with an endless stream of questions. Finally he’d get some proper data. While he stumbled trying to remember the word ‘vocabulary,’ Virgil had darted out of the living room and into his room.
Virgil spent the night cleaning the blood out of his mouth after biting through his tongue during Logan’s never ending questions. Once everyone else was asleep, Virgil had snuck out of his room and slid a small apology note under Logan’s door.
At some point during the thoughts of his past, Logan had appeared in his armchair across from the couch. Logan agreed that it would be good for Virgil to be around others who were speaking. He also took this as an opportunity for himself to practice his speaking skills without judgement.
Currently Logan was rambling to the room about Patton’s kitchen escapades that Roman had mentioned.
“It appears, from a deduction of his mess, that he was attempting to produce some chocolate chip cookies. He failed to remove the pans that are stored within the....” Logan’s blank face crinkled in thought. “The....heater.....stove...” Logan grumbled unsatisfied, making vague gestures with his hands.
“Oven.”
Logan gave a barely noticeable nod. “He failed to remove the pans from the oven prior to preheating to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. When reaching the step that required the insertion of the dough into the....oven, he realized his forgetfulness.”
Virgil slowly uncurled from his position. “He grabbed the hot pans,” Virgil muttered.
“Indeed. He nearly broke the door off the oven dropping the pans so violently” Logan tsked and shook his head. “It is most illogical to allow him within the kitchen unsupervised.”
Virgil stood slowly, clearing his throat fully of the imaginary block that rests there on occasion. “I’ll talk to him, you know, after the kitchen is clean and I get us some proper dinner.” Virgil grumbled lightly. Patton was a sweetheart, but he really could not be trusted in the kitchen.
As Virgil left the room, headed toward the kitchen, he whispered a quiet “Thanks.”
Virgil shook out his shoulders letting it travel down his arms and chest. Whatever his brain was having issues with seemed to resolve itself for now. He took a deep breath and gave his hands one last shake, getting ready to see the horror of a kitchen that Patton had left in his wake.