Work Text:
Patton sprinted into the schoolyard, panting slightly. His last appointment for the night had run long without him realizing, and he’d ended up having to drive over the speed limit just a teensy eensy little bit to pick up Roman from play practice. From the looks of things, he’d still taken too long—there was Roman, standing outdoors in his bright red school-pride shirt, glancing around impatiently.
“Aw geez kiddo, I’m sorry I’m late,” Patton said sheepishly, reaching out to hold Roman’s hand.
Roman pulled a face, stepping back and crossing his arms. “What?”
Was he being moody? Honestly, Patton didn’t have the energy left after work to correct Roman’s manners. It hurt his pride as a psychiatrist, but he figured it’d be easier to fall back on an age-old parenting trick—bribery. “You know work runs long sometimes bud, I’m doing my best here. I can make it up to you, right? We’ll make some microwave chicken nuggets and I can make brownies. How’s that?”
Roman burst into an unreasonably eager grin. “Sounds good to me!” he said, reaching out to grab Patton’s hand.
Relieved the problem had been solved so easily, Patton walked back to the car with Roman in tow. “Alright, we all buckled up safe and sound?” he said, putting the keys in.
Roman sighed, begrudgingly buckling himself in. “This stupid dumby belt just holds me back.”
“Thanks for putting it on anyway kiddo. How was play practice? Having a lot of fun?” Patton asked, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.
Roman grinned, fidgeting enthusiastically. “Oh yeah! The teacher gave us wrapping paper tubes for practice swords, and I killed Prince John! I stabbed his head off!” he said, opening his copy of the play script.
Patton noted with amusement that in less than a week, Roman had already left his mark on the poor stapled pile of papers. More pages had their corners dog-eared than those that didn’t, there were smudges and stains on any blank space, and the margins were filled with frantic cramped doodles of the play. Actually, the whole thing looked pretty badly battered. He ought to talk to Roman some time about taking better care of his things.
“I’m glad you’re having fun,” he said warmly, let going of the wheel with one hand so he could ruffle Roman’s hair. “You always do! And how have things been with your little ‘theatre rival?’ Things been okay since audition night?”
Roman laughed, his nose scrunched up in amusement. “Oh, the ugly one! I gave one of stagecrew kids a candy bar to tie his backpack to a rope and hang it above the stage like a glittery homework piñata! The teacher was still trying to help him get it down when I left, it was hilarious!”
Patton’s shoulders slumped in disbelief. “Kiddo, I’m surprised at you,” he said, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice. “I know you were upset at him for taking the role you wanted, but calling him ugly? Pulling such a mean prank? I don’t think a heroic prince would do such a hurtful thing, do you?”
Roman huffed, leaning up against the car window. “Why should I be a prince? All movie princes do is kiss sleeping girls and try to find people based on shoe size. I don’t wanna be dumb and boring like that.”
Patton pulled over to the side of the road and cut the engine, taking a deep breath. He watched Roman, biting his lips and trying to pick the right words. “You’re acting really off bud. Is there something wrong, Roman?”
Roman looked at Patton and stuck out his tongue. “My name isn’t Roman, you weird old man.”
Patton took off his glasses, rubbing his temples. “I think I know what my own son looks like. What’s gotten into you? You’ve never acted like this before.”
“You aren’t my dad. My dad is a different weird old man. I only got in your dumb car because you said you’d give me chicken nuggets and brownies. Besides, I figured if you were actually a stranger danger I could probably fight you off because you’re old and fat,” the kid said.
Patton stared in disbelief. He knew what Roman looked like. He knew his son’s excited bright brown eyes, his button nose, his every little freckle. The kid before him looked like Roman, down to the way he smiled, and yet he acted nothing like Roman. “Is this a prank?”
The kid laughed, and even his laugh was similar to Roman’s—although a bit more snorty. “I actually did that prank on my dad once. Your reaction is way more funny!”
Patton slumped back in his car seat, still trying to work out what in the world was happening. “So you aren’t Roman?”
“Yeah, I already said so,” the boy said, pulling out a marker and starting to draw on the car window. “I want to change my name to Danny Devito just to weird people out but only adults can do that so I’m just Remus.”
Patton had not only failed to pick up his son from play practice, but he’d somehow managed to kidnap an identical child. What had he done to deserve this? Was it karma for taking Linda’s parking spot yesterday? Was it a punishment from the universe for pretending to forget to sign up for the school carpool? This was the end. The police would throw him in the slammer and he’d never be allowed near an oven or a stove for the rest of his criminal days.
“You’re dad is probably still waiting for you at the school, right?” Patton said, turning on the car and taking it in a u-turn. “I’ll show him my son and he’ll understand it was an accident, I’m sure everything will be fine!”
The boy, Remus, did not seem to like that idea, lunging against his seatbelt to tug aggressively on Patton’s sleeve. “No, stop! You said you’d give me chicken nuggets! You can’t break your promise! You said there’d be nuggets!”
As Patton struggled desperately to keep the wheel straight, his phone began to ring. He wriggled a hand free to grab it, still fending the feral child off with his elbow. He answered, pressing the phone to his ear. “Sorry, sorry now’s a really bad time to talk—“
“Dad!” Instant relief. Unless there was a third clone bouncing around somewhere, that had to be Roman.
“Roman, are you still at the school? I’m on my way. There was a mix-up, you’d never believe what happened— it’s not important, I’m so sorry, I’ll be right there.”
“Dad the police are here! I got kidnapped!”
Patton nearly dropped his phone. “What? Roman, are you okay? Are you safe? I’m five minutes away, what’s going on?”
The speaker crackled. “A weird guy grabbed my arm and tried to make me get in his car! But I defeated him in combat and ran inside and called the police on the office phone. It was like rescuing a damsel in distress, but I was both prince and damsel!”
Patton started to go over the speed limit, knuckles tight on the wheel. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I’m almost there bud, hang tight.” He careened into the parking lot, not bothering to pull into a spot. He cut the gas and tumbled out of the car.
There were several police cars in the parking lot, lights flashing brightly, casting the dim sunset in shades of blue and red. As he sprinted closer, he could hear loud protesting in a familiar voice.
“—assure you, he is my son! Two children is enough to handle, why would I want to steal more. This isn’t the first time he’s done this, it’s his sense of humor. I didn’t kidnap anyone, I just was trying to take my boys home. Stop grabbing me, I pressed this suit this morning!”
Patton walked around the small crowd, then took a step back in shock. “Deceit?”
Deceit turned to look at him, cheeks red with frustration. “Now is really not the time Sanders,” he hissed.
“Dad!” Patton turned around just in time to catch Roman, running in for a hug. “I rescued myself! It was so cool! That’s the guy who kidnapped me, isn’t he so scary?”
Patton picked up Roman, the gears in his head turning. So if Deceit had Roman, then that must have meant…
“Dad!” From the other direction in ran an identical copy of Roman, though his hair was more tousled and his hands were stained with marker. “That guy said if I got in his car I could have chicken nuggets and now he won’t give me the nuggets!” Remus yelled, wrapping his hands around Deceit’s legs in what could easily be either a hug or an attack. “You gotta beat his ass pop!”
Patton paused, and then shook his head, and then he laughed, louder and longer than he had the entire week. “I’m so sorry officers. I think this is all just a misunderstanding,” he said sheepishly.
Of course, that didn’t solve everything immediately, and they had to spend another ten or twenty minutes answering questions to the police, who seemed nearly as baffled as Patton and Deceit. The only ones who did not consider any of this to be particularly odd at all were Remus and Roman, who were loudly arguing and roughhousing throughout the entire ordeal.
As things finally began to wind down and the police cars pulled from the school parking lot, Deceit approached Patton looking uncharacteristically flustered. “Listen Sanders, as much fun as it was having several cops feel me up for ‘weaponry,’ Virgil was expecting me and my son home nearly half an hour ago, so I can’t stay long. But we can agree that this—“ he said, motioning to Roman and Remus, chasing each other around the parking lot and screaming, “—is unnatural.”
Patton rubbed the pack of his neck sheepishly. “It is a lil kooky, huh! Well, I adopted Roman when he was just a lil toddler. I know this might be sensitive, but did… Remus have a sibling you gave away?”
Deceit frowned, crossing his arms as well. “I’m unmarried, both my boys are adopted. Remus has been with me for the past three years. There was no mention of any other family.”
“It has to be a coincidence, right?” Patton said hesitantly. “I know that the adoption system is kinda tough, but surely they wouldn’t just separate a pair of twins, right? That seems so… wrong.”
Deceit closed his eyes, thinking carefully. “Hm. I’m going to do some research. Contact the fostercare, read up on orphan laws and the such. I’ll contact you if anything of interest comes up.” He stepped forward, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Hey you little troublemaker, get in the car before I come drag you there myself!”
“You can’t make me!” Remus screamed. Despite his words of defiance, he did run to Deceit’s car. The two men watched, Deceit in tired amusement and Patton in baffled horror, as Remus climbed onto the roof of the car and started trying to squirm in through the half-open sunroof.
As Roman came over, Patton scooped him up, setting his son on his shoulders almost purely out of habit. “Honestly, what are the odds?”
“Dad! Dad, what do you think of theatre rival? Isn’t he sooo annoying? But he’s also a good actor and a great villain and even though he stole my backpack and smells like butts he’s really fun! I hate him!” Roman said eagerly.
Deceit raised an eyebrow at Roman’s rambling, then shot a bemused glance at Patton. He lifted a hand, putting it on Patton’s shoulder. There was no glove, Patton noticed, his heart missing a step at the touch of Deceit’s hand against Patton’s shirt. It was a casual gesture, maybe just barely an amicable goodbye, but it made Patton feel like he did when he was a little boy and his beautiful friends went skinny dipping in the lake. He tried to think of a word to describe the feeling, but then Deceit pulled his hand away and was walking to his car without so much as a glance back.
He could never think of the most correct words like Logan, or the most poetic words like Roman. So when he tried to describe how Deceit made him feel, all he could think of was…
Dizzy.