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Patton wakes in a warm, pleasant haze.
Part of this is the natural nostalgic glow of his room, but part of it is also that he's just…relaxed?
In fact, he’s feeling pretty good, he decides. And in an odd, peaceful little moment of clarity he reflects that that’s kind of unusual lately. He’s been (lately) waking up either very groggy and/or considerably less relaxed than this, given recent events; so this is a refreshing, if inexplicable shift.
Heck, he feels almost downright cheerful again — huh! He looks at the time, and is surprised to find it’s almost 11am already. Weird — well, maybe he’s well-rested and that’s the difference? Still, he doesn’t like to miss breakfast… even if recently, breakfast has often been tense or awkward or sparsely-attended, given the interpersonal issues between some of the other Sides.
Well, still — might as well make lunch for everybody while he's got some energy, right? Right!
He dresses in his usual polo, khakis and kitty cardigan, and wanders out of his room and downstairs to the common areas.
And that’s when things start getting significantly weirder.
For one, he was not expecting to find Logan, of all Sides, standing there just — staring? At a — wait, at a blank notebook page?
But he is. He, Logan, is standing there, in the middle of the room, pencil in hand and staring at a blank page muttering to himself: "What was I doing again…?"
Which.
Okay, that is definitely weird, right? It’s weird. And possibly disconcerting as Logan is not exactly known for spacing out like that. Normally he's one of the most focused Sides, even when everyone else is jumping from topic to topic like a hyperactive squirrel. But Patton doesn’t know for sure if he should be actively Concerned since, he reasons, he doesn’t actually know the reason why yet. So somehow, he finds it’s easy not to worry too much — yet.
Also, come to think of it, Patton may just have an excellent test, he thinks, smirking to himself as the “spaced out” thought gives him a stellar (ha!) idea for a Dad Joke to inflict on him.
“You okay there, spaced cadet?”
Okay, so maybe calling it “stellar” is an oversell, but not every off the cuff joke can be a winner and besides, it’s a Dad Joke Pun. It doesn’t need to be all that high-brow.
In fact, a moment later he’s actually a bit glad he went with a particularly weak one, as it makes it all the more stark just how unusual Logan’s reaction is.
Because what happens is this: Logan startles slightly, blinks, and then, a long moment later…looks at Patton as if he’s appeared very suddenly out of nowhere, as opposed to audibly thunking down the stairs like he usually does.
And then Logan says:
“Huh?”
Literally. That's it.
“Um…spaced…cadet?" Patton tries. "Because you’re…spacing out?”
Logan blinks slowly at him, and Patton can practically see the rotating hourglass icon. “…ah,” Logan says. He looks back down at his paper, frowning.
Doesn’t even get defensive, or annoyed at the terrible pun.
“Logan…are you okay?” Patton says.
Logan doesn’t get a chance to answer even if he could, though, because Virgil’s low, husky voice interrupts from the direction of the couch.
"Should I…be worried about that?” he says, his tone oddly calm. Patton looks over to where he’s languidly stretched across three couch cushions, his hands resting on his stomach. “I feel like I should be worried about that."
Patton stares at him for another long, quiet moment, and Virgil frowns — just slightly — adding: "I feel like I should be worried that I'm not worried? But I'm also…not…that? Is that worrying? I keep thinking it should be worrying…” He pauses again. “ Worry. Worry worryworry. Pft. That's stopped sounding like a real word all of a sudden."
Okay, yeah, it clearly isn’t just Logan, is it.
"Uh,” Patton says gently, and is relieved when his voice comes out stable. “Virge? Are…you feeling okay?"
"Hm?” Virgil says, blinking and looking over at him, as if he had already forgotten he was there. “Oh! Yeah, actually.” He gives Patton a small but quite genuine little smile, and turns his head again, going back to pensively staring at the ceiling. “I feel…pretty chill, actually? Which is amazing because I didn't realize I had any, haaaaaa. Self-burn," he says, snorting in amusement.
At which, from beside the couch, on the floor behind the armrest that Virgil is leaning against, comes the sound of snickering and giggling.
Patton leans over to get a better view and realizes: …wait.
"…Roman?" he says, mouth agape and not so much because he doesn't think Roman would giggle at that, so much as the fact Roman is laying on the floor with his head in Remus' lap .
Meanwhile Remus is…actually, what is he doing?
"Uh…what…are you doing there, buddy?" Patton says, and again is pleased if a bit surprised at how calm and measured it comes out.
"I'm braiding his bangs!" Remus replies, with a cheerful grin toward him. "He never lets me touch his hair, you kidding? I'm totally not missing the opportunity."
"I shouuuuuld though. Let you do this more of'en I mean," Roman says, sounding somewhat sleepy, though not particularly unhappy. "Why don't we? This feels nice. Why don't more people play with my hair? More people should play with my hair. More of'en."
Indeed Remus is, in fact, taking the little tiny locks of Roman’s dramatically-flowy bangs and making them into teeny, tiny itty bitty little braids, complete with extremely tiny flowers and thread-thin ribbons in every color of the rainbow, that Patton is frankly surprised to see him weave in so skillfully.
That actually takes a fair amount of dexterity given the miniscule size, and he’s kind of…impressed, really? He didn’t realize Remus had that kind of, well…skill, crafting-wise.
Which still doesn’t take away from the sheer contextual weirdness of him not doing something gross, awkwardly sexual, or vaguely terrifying, in favor of doing something arguably wholesome.
Remus.
Doing something wholesome.
He feels a tiny, faint little spike of fear at that, because as much as he’d have said he’d like to see it, it happening out of the blue — let alone Roman just…letting him do something, with his actual hair, attached to his actual head, without any hesitation or wariness? That is…
Well. It’s a little Twilight-Zone-y, if he’s honest. He can practically hear the dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo in his head.
"Uh, sure Roman…I'll…see if I can do that more often?" Patton says, thinking that, well at least it’s not weird to imagine Roman needing more affectionate, gentle touches —and he really does have no problem with the idea of carding his fingers through his hair; he loves Roman, after all, like he does any of his kiddos.
(And also that hair looks soft.)
That said, the sheer weirdness of the situation still seems… pressing. So he adds:
"Um… coincidentally, um. How…are you feeling, Roman?"
"Hm?" Roman says, turning his head and squinting before he seems to recognize him. "Pat!" he then says cheerfully as if noticing him for the first time. "Padreeeeeee hi! How are ya?"
"I'm…fine? Um. How are you?" Patton says, again. Cautiously.
It occurs to him that that’s the third time in less than a minute, maybe, that another Side has seemingly forgotten or failed to notice he’s even in the room right after he’s spoken in front of them and that —okay, yeah, that’s…that’s concerning? It seems they have a whole academy of space cadets in the commons this morning, and considering two of them are Virgil and Logan, that’s… that’s a thing to take note of, he thinks.
"Hm. I'm…pretty good, actually?" Roman says thoughtfully. Then his face shifts to utterly awed amazement, as if he has had the world's biggest epiphany. And he adds, so softly Patton almost doesn't hear it: "Yeah…yeah actually! I…I'm actually pretty…good for a change? Wow. "
The phrasing gives Patton pause, and he feels his heart clench. "…f-'for a change'? Roman, what…uh. What — did you mean by that…?"
"Hm?" Roman blinks and turns back to him, stares at him for a moment as if, once again, he had forgotten he was there.
Before he can reply, Virgil snorts again.
"You kidding? Princey couldn't be more high-strung if…if…" he pauses, trailing off with another slight frown.
"If he were you?" Remus suggests…pleasantly? And yeah, there's something off in his voice, Patton thinks. Or…a lack of off-ness, he supposes, given it's Remus.
(It takes him a moment to realize what it is: his pitch sounds lower, closer to Roman’s, and his cadence isn’t that weird, raw lilting-back-and-forth thing he does where he sounds kind of like a cartoon character. Given how rarely Patton has heard him speak, it occurs to him this might be because he normally does that voice on purpose, and this might be his real voice, without any of the wacky acting on top? Who even knows…)
"Haaaaa," Virgil says in response, to that little comment, and follows that up with a slight giggle. Which, while incredibly adorable, is also not very typical of him, at least not without immediately causing him to fluster and pretend it never happened. "Nice one! Though, no. I was gonna…pun. Or something. Ya know?"
"A high wire!" Roman blurts out. "Or…no, I know! A violin on a high wire! Or…something like that?"
"Ha! Omigod," Virgil says, giggling again as he rolls onto his side to look at Roman. "Yeah, like that! Man, you're good at that kinda thing, Princey, you know that?"
"Really?" Roman looks in his general direction, even though due to the couch being in the way, he can't actually see him that well. "You think so?"
"Yeah! I mean…yeah, you are? You're a funny guy, Ro. Did I never tell you that?" Virgil frowns. "I should. 'Cause you are."
"Aww," Roman says, and he looks like he's just seen a puppy roll over or something. "Thanks, Virge! Gosh, that means a lot to me! …'spesh from you."
"Really?" Virgil says, blinking in surprise. "Why's it special coming from me?"
"'Cause you got high standards," Roman says, nodding sagely but also smiling. "So like…impressing you is actually hard? That, and…" He frowns, his face falling slightly. "And I think sometimes you don't really like me much? So…"
"What?" Virgil says, eyes widening (much to Patton's relief, honestly, because that's the first moment in the last two minutes or longer that Virgil has acted like, well, Virgil ). "What made you think that? Of course I do!"
"Really?" Roman says and Patton is all too aware this is probably an important conversation between the two of them so he bites his tongue to hold back the tiny, empathetic whine that wants to escape him at how surprised and hopeful he looks. "Even though—even though we argue so much?"
"Princey, nooooo," Virgil says, softly dismayed. "Dude, I argue with everyone — "
"It's true," Remus says, nodding as he ties off another tiny braid in Roman's bangs.
"That's just—you know. I'm just kind of a bitch that way. S'my job, ya know? But like, also…honestly you give as good as you get sometimes? Not gonna lie, I kinda like bickering with you sometimes? You're…you're fun, you know? I mean, yeah, you're a lil' dramatic, but like, I think that's literally all of us at some point, ya know? You're…" he frowns, and tilts himself further — so far Patton is briefly concerned he's going to fall off the couch — so that Roman can actually see his face clearly. "You're like…one of my best friends. Ya know?"
"Aww, Viiiiirge," Roman says, tearing up. "That means so much to me! You're so cool and and — and thank you, you're my best friend too!"
All of which is very sweet and touching, Patton thinks, but also unnervingly weird for the two of them. Normally they're as open with that kind of feeling as a sealed envelope…inside a lockbox. At the bottom of a lake.
"That's…that's great, guys! I'm so proud of you for talking that out," Patton says, managing to suppress a rising note of panic with… surprising success, actually. Weird. Normally his FamILY being so off would worry him more…worryingly?
He pauses, considering that.
Yeah, actually. As it is, he's finding it Concerning, but is having trouble getting worked up about it, considering that none of the changes seem…alarming?
Well, no. Virgil should probably be capable of worrying, at least about Logan's…strange behavior. That's a concern, yeah. But there's…there's got to be a reason for all of them acting weird, right?
Speaking of Logan…
"Hey, Lo?" he says, and Logan jolts slightly, blinking owlishly at him, as if he'd been startled. Again. "You…want to maybe take a nap or something? Maybe you're…um. Tired?"
Logan frowns. "I…shouldn't be? I…could swear I got good…rest, last night?" He then pouts (pouts!) and says, plaintively: "Patton. Patton, why is…is it so hard?"
"That's what he said!" Remus snickers, which is not particularly surprising, though the fact it prompts similar reactions from Virgil and Roman, is a little more so.
Patton ignores all that though, focusing on Logan for the moment because that seems particularly important, somehow. "Why is what hard, Logan?"
Logan lifts a hand and waves it in the air, vaguely. "I don't… know? All of it?"
"Hoo. Okay. Um, I'm gonna…make a…an executive decision? And say you should not be standing up, Logan. Please sit. Rest. Okay?"
"Okay…" Logan says, nodding slowly. "That…makes sense. I think?"
Patton gently guides him to a chair, and takes the pencil and paper out of his hands, putting them on the coffee table. Logan lets him, with only a small frown.
"Hm," Patton says. "I…think maybe I should—"
He pauses. He was going to say 'go get Janus', but probably…maybe, at least, given recent events, he shouldn't say Janus' name aloud in front of both Virgil and Roman? Though…they do seem like very little could bother them right now, so maybe he could…?
The internal debate is rendered moot when Janus comes down the stairs of his own accord…or rather, stumbles down them, really, his movements lacking their usual grace, though thankfully not resulting in him actually falling on the way down. "Hm," Janus says. "I feel…different." He frowns, glancing back behind him and squinting suspiciously, before reaching up to adjust his slightly askew bowler hat. "I should not have had that much trouble on the stairs…"
Patton glances over at Virgil and Roman, who…look at Janus, then each other, and are both frowning slightly. But to Patton's surprise, Virgil simply simply asks, with actual, albeit cautious, concern :
"Dude, you okay?"
Janus' mouth twists. "I…don't know? I'm not hurt or anything, but…I just feel kind of…off…?" Then something seems to occur to him, and he looks back at Virgil, his eyes widening slightly.
Patton doesn't blame him, as he practically has to pick his own jaw up off the floor. Virgil has barely been civil, let alone Friendly or Concerned For D—Janus, for ages.
"How…are you?" Janus then says, cautiously.
Virgil hums pensively, as he flops back onto his back on the couch. "Surprisingly…good? Like, relaxed, even."
"Really? Huh." Janus pauses, then mutters, with gradually increasing confidence: "Well…good for you, Virgil. That's…that's good."
Virgil blinks, and stares at him for a moment, before tilting his head in a way that reminds Patton somewhat of a confused puppy. His brow furrows, only adding to the effect.
"You…really?" Virgil says slowly. "You actually mean that? Cause that sounded weirdly sincere. Well…for you, anyway."
Judging from his expression, it seems it's now Janus' turn to be confused, though Patton isn't quite sure why; he knows there's tension between the two of them, and has been for some time. Of course Virgil is confused that Janus is being nice all of a sudden.
…probably just as confused as Janus was when Virgil also sincerely expressed concern for Janus, come to think of it.
This…really is odd, isn't it? It is. Especially for two of the most stubborn and prickly Sides.
Janus is frowning now too, almost in a hurt sort of way, as he looks at Virgil. "Well…yes?" he says. "Of course it is. Sincere, I mean. Surely by now you could use a break? I mean…I know it's your job and all, but it does kinda worry me sometimes, you know? How much you worry. All that stress! All the time! Can't possibly be good for you, I'd think. You need…you need more—to do more, oh, what's. What's the word…?"
Janus frowns again, and his gaze goes unfocused for a moment, and he seems to sway slightly and so Patton steps a little closer, thanks, on the now disconcertingly probable chance that he's going to have to catch him. Or at least guide him to a chair or something.
To his relief, though, Janus seems to somewhat recover a moment later, as if zoning back in from wherever his head went. He snaps his fingers, and says, triumphantly:
"Self care! That's the word. Term, rather. You should do more of it. Take more breaks. I think, anyway." He nods with satisfaction.
…hold up, Patton thinks.
Janus briefly forgot the term 'self care'?
Janus. Forgot the term…self care.
Patton is not quite sure why he isn' t panicking at that, other than he maybe isn't quite capable of anything so intense as panic right now. (Which is also pretty weird, he realizes. Like, objectively odd as Logan might say. Well, if Logan were…himself, right now, anyway. Which he very definitely is not.)
It is concerning, though. He can recognize that much, and even kinda feel it. That at least, is comfortingly normal.
And then.
Then his mind catches up to something he had noticed when Janus snapped his fingers, but not realized he'd noticed. Because as Virgil points out:
"…huh. Where's your glove?"
Janus blinks, and looks down at his hand, brow furrowing deeply when he realizes that, yes, he is actually missing a glove, on his left hand.
"The heck?" Patton mutters. Why would Dece— Janus wear only one glove? "You…imitating Michael Jackson or something?" He tries to joke, weakly.
Janus' mouth slowly opens and closes a couple of times, like a very slow, very shocked goldfish. (It does occur to Patton that with literal scales on him and all, he could totally make that pun, but it also occurs to him it would be exceptionally rude and insensitive, so he does not.)
"I…nooooo," he says finally, slowly, very confusedly. "I…I could swear…I know I meant to put both on? What the heck."
There's a sudden giggle from Remus, and both Janus and Patton startle slightly, having either not noticed or in Patton's case for sure forgotten that he was on the floor next to the couch
(Which, again: should be concerning for how out of the ordinary it is).
"You know, you'd make a very stylish MJ, Dee-dee! You've even got a fancy hat to dance with! Ha! You should try doing 'Smooth Criminal'- I bet you'd absolutely kill it."
"Hm," Roman says, his tone speculative. "He's definitely got the dramatic flair for it. Don't think I remember hearing him sing, but like…push comes shove, all of us have access to Thomas' voice, and that's lovely, so…yeah, he could prob'ly pull it off."
"Yeah…" Janus says, in a tone that actually says 'no'. "I am…definitely not doing that right now. Is there coff—"
He stops, mid-word, and swivels his head back to the direction of the twins. "…wait," he says. "Wait. Roman? "
"…yeah?"
"…oh," Janus says softly, and it's then Patton is reminded of the entire reason he was unsure about mentioning even Janus' name around Roman. Which, clearly, Janus also recalls now.
Well.
This is awkward.
…at least, it is for about a second; then Logan, of all people, bursts out with: “Ah! I remember now!”
It’s sudden enough and loud enough and unexpected enough, that everybody in the room startles. And then stares at him in confusion.
“Remember what, Logan?” Patton asks, politely and also very hopefully, because Logan Remembering things is a good and useful thing, surely?
“Teeth!” Logan says proudly. He turns to Patton and smiles broadly.
However, he does absolutely nothing to clarify.
“…teeth?” Janus says, his brows raising with a hefty amount of uncertainty.
“Teeth,” Logan says firmly, and gives a satisfied nod. As if that explains everything.
Well that…happened, Patton thinks.
He also thinks this conversation is starting to go around in some very useless circles and maybe he should just —
“I’m going to go check on Thomas,” he says. He receives a chorus of several variations on “okay”, and a couple of confused or vacant looks in response. He takes a steadying breath, and sinks out to the Real World.
When Patton rises up, he’s in the living room, standing in his usual spot by the blinds.
Thomas, meanwhile, is laying halfway on his side on the couch, staring at the TV, which is playing an episode of Steven Universe.
Patton is somewhat concerned to see the state of him. He looks peaceful, at least, but…dazed, too, his eyes glassy and somewhat unfocused.
Oh, and also, he has an ice pack sitting on his cheek, which -
…wait.
Didn’t Logan say something about…
He walks slowly closer, and ever so gently asks: “Thomas…?”
Thomas blinks, slowly. He looks owlishly at him…pretty much a more sluggish mimicry of Logan’s confusion earlier, though he seems distinctly less bothered by it.
He stares at Patton for a long moment, not particularly upset but also seemingly not comprehending who or what he’s looking at, and Patton can practically hear the creaking of the mental gears. A slow, painful creaking. Like they’ve never been oiled before. Or possibly even moved before.
Patton is relieved to see his eyebrows lift happily though when Thomas, apparently, finally recognizes his own Heart/Morality.
“Pat!” he says, though it sounds more like “Pad” considering he’s saying it around a mouthful of what looks to be cotton gauze. “Hi!”
“Er…maybe…don’t talk for a few, huh?” Patton says, chuckling nervously as he sits down next to the couch.
And It’s then that he notices a piece of paper on the coffee table.
He leans over to read it.
“Oh,” he says, and feels (albeit distantly) a part of him relax. “You had to have a tooth extracted, huh?”
“Mmhm,” Thomas says, groggily.
“Thought you already had your wisdom teeth pulled years ago?” he mumbled.
Because, yes, that had been a memorable instance. Thomas had had all four pulled at the same time, and the surgeon had been…let's just sat brusque. Both with the local anesthetic injection and with the yanking, which somehow was only slightly less unnerving with having been numbed.
Which had meant that Virgil had not had a good day that day. None of them had. Thomas had been temporarily scared to go to his regular dentist after that for months, except she’d been such a sweetheart it was a little easier to eventually remind himself she wasn’t Doctor Tooth Yanking Nightmare. (Plus, it helped that she always left Cartoon Network on in the waiting room. That, and he’d needed a cavity filled.)
“Hm?” Thomas says, zoning back in from whatever planet he’d been on. “Oh. Yah. Brogue wa las’ nigh.”
It takes a moment for Patton to translate that out of Mumble Speak. “You…broke a tooth? Last night?”
“Uh-huh,” Thomas says, nodding slightly, and moving the ice pack to the coffee table, where he drops it with a soft thunk. “Diss lay'ee doh, fee wass be’a den las’ wah’,” he giggles a little. “Toh huh bou’ ih, and fee wassssu- supah… goah bou’ duh, duh annis…duh mez. Ah Dih’m feh uh dig. Waaay leth sess’fur.”
It takes Patton…honestly, a good two minutes or so? To figure out what he’d been trying to say.
He is kind of impressed with himself for managing it, when he finally does.
“Oh! Oh, you mean — oh,” Patton says, suddenly connecting quite a few strange, loopy little dots.
He looks at Thomas, squinting. “This one didn’t exactly skimp on the medication this time, did she.”
Thomas gives a thumbs up in response, giving a pleased hum and already half asleep, Patton figures.
“This…wouldn’t happen to include anything that isn’t a local anesthetic, would it? Or for um…anxiety? Anything like that?”
“Yah,” Thomas says hazily, with no clarification. Not that Patton needs any at the moment; he knows about as much as he needs to, to explain all of…that.
It’s a relief to have an explanation, at least. And frankly…he finds himself chuckling at the others’ behavior, now that he knows what’s caused it.
He notices a second piece of paper on the coffee table and picks it up, skimming it. It turns out to be instructions for the after care; things like keep the gauze in for 2 hours or so, and don’t rinse the mouth or eat or drink anything that isn’t soft or liquid for 24 hours, and don’t drink from a straw for three days —geez, that feels like a lot more instructions than he remembered from last time.
Then again, he hadn't been the one in charge of remembering all that.
Well, if he is stuck with Logan being un-Logan-y for the time being, then without any other backup suitably sober…that kinda leaves it up to him, huh? He murmurs some of the instructions to himself - at least, the parts relevant to his own usual impulses, like eating only soft things (boo, probably no cookies, he thinks) and no straws and such. Even that is kind of a lot, and there's so much fiddly wound-care stuff, too, to avoid - hm.
“I should make copies of this,” Patton mutters, and snaps some into existence. One for the Mindscape fridge, and several others, for both himself and the Sides who are currently wobbling and giggling their way around the Mindscape commons.
He’s pretty sure nobody is going to remember it if he just tells them any of this, after all. And it’s good for at minimum, Logan, Janus and Virgil to know the details. Logan because he’ll keep track of things (once he re-combobulates, at least), Janus because this definitely counts under self care, and Virgil…well. having the list in general, which includes which specific things to actually look out for that would indicate a Problem with the way it's healing, and therefore a need to talk to the doctor or whatnot? That will sooth him considerably, to have it all laid out nice and neatly as to what's normal vs Concerning and what not to do; should make his job of keeping Thomas safe a lot more straightforward, at least when it comes to the misbehaving mouth.
He stays with Thomas a little while longer - basically until Thomas passes out completely - before sinking back out to check on the others.
When Virgil wakes up, it's gradual at first. Like coming from a peaceful haze.
Which should have been the first red flag, really.
The second is the sheet of paper carefully placed on his chest, with Patton's cheerful handwriting in blue ink naming Virgil specifically and insisting it should be "Read Immediately When You Can."
He flips it open, and about chokes on his own metaphysical air, because how the hell did he forget they had a freakin' body part yanked out of their mouth this morning!? Oh god! Thomas! He could be bleeding from his stitches or fallen asleep with the ice pack on or—
"Nah," says a familiar, albeit unusually not-hyper, voice. "I got him to toss it across the room. Well. More like a few inches, but it's the thought that counts!"
Virgil blinks, and squints at Remus, who is on the other end of the couch, perched on the armrest, and...crocheting something?
(Virgil decides he will not focus on whatever weird, tentacled...thing Remus is making out of what Virgil really hopes is actual yarn)
"What?"
"The ice pack! I got him to throw it!" Remus chirps.
"...why?" Virgil says.
Remus shrugs. "Well," he says. "Figured you'd like that a better than him leaving it on, and then passing out completely with it on, and then getting frostbite and subsequent tissue death resulting in his cheeks —"
"OKAY!" Virgil says, emphatically. "I get the idea!"
"But also yeah it kinda was starting to get cold enough to hurt," Remus says, and shrugs again. "Easier to get him to listen in that case. Though I am kinda disappointed that I wasn't ready for his first time getting enormously stoned, because holy shit are you and Roman so much more chill when you're both higher than a hooker's hemline —"
"Wait, what?" Virgil says, snapping to attention and also upright. "What do you mean 'stoned'!?"
At which point he realizes he is part of a pile of Sides; there's at least two others here, one of whom is... Roman, he thinks? Wearing Princey's jacket, at any rate, which Virgil knows because before he bolted upright, the Side in question had an arm slung around his middle, apparently.
Remus cackles, and gives a little shimmy. "So, fun fact! Apparently if Thomas is given the good stuff, you get hilariously loopy, and Roman actually does shit like let me play with his hair!"
Virgil blinks.
"He let you do what?"
"Play with my hair," Roman mumbles from behind him, somewhat sheepishly. "Though, apparently he didn't...well, it's not a complete disaster. So."
"Ex-cuse you," Remus says, in Dramatic but probably exaggerated Offense; his crochet project is even pressed to his chest like the handkerchief of a scandalized Southern belle. "I didn't even put anything gross in it!"
"No, you just braided my bangs," Roman says, snorting in what is, admittedly, genuine amusement at least. "Like a weirdo."
"Hey! I did a damn good job on those, thankyouverymuch. Do you have any idea how tricky it is to do braids that size!? And I even did a full rainbow! You love rainbows!"
"Yes, and that's the major reason why I shall let it slide...this time."
"Ha! You like them! I knew it!"
A groan sounds beneath him and Roman just then, and Virgil freezes.
Because he knows that particular Annoyed Morning-Hating Groan.
He turns his head and, sure enough —
"De—I. Janus!?" he sputters.
"Ssssshh," Janus hisses, before grumbling: "Too much noise for morning."
"Janus," says a very soothingly welcome, if extremely Done sounding voice. "It is 6:47 PM. It is hardly 'morning' at this point."
"Ehhhh," Janus scoffs, making a face and then pulling his hat further over his eyes. "Technicality. It feels like a morning, therefore, it is still too damn noisy."
Logan walks into view, carrying a very large coffee mug, which he takes a sip from, before setting it down on the table to pull out and rummage through his flashcards. "That is admittedly, as they say... 'a mood'," he says dryly, and Virgil almost double takes at how utterly exhausted he looks.
"Damn, L," he says. "Do you, uh...need a nap or something? You seem, uh —"
"I have already spent entirely too much time unconscious or lacking in lucidity as it is today," comes the reply. "And even after having regained most of my faculties, it is very difficult to get Thomas to listen to my advice when all he wants to do is sleep."
"You should let him," Janus grouses, from underneath his hat. "This day has been hell enough as it is without trying to 'power through' it. Let him rest for a change, he's recovering from a frickin surgery."
Logan sighs, and sits in a nearby chair. "Believe me, I'm well aware."
"Why...are we on top of him?" Virgil says, slowly. He looks to Roman, who shrugs.
"Don't really recall," he says.
"Oh, you all were cuddling for like, hours, you passed out like that," Remus interjects, with a cheerfulness that Virgil feels is down right suspicious.
A suspicion that is absolutely confirmed when Remus looks up from his crochet, and grins at him, eyes damn near sparkling with mirth. "You should see the pics Big Daddy and I got of it!"
Once again, Virgil chokes a little. "There are pictures!?"
"Oh yes," Remus says, and cackles again. "And they are absolutely, terribly, horribly adorable!"
"Oh god."
"Not normally my thing," Remus adds. "Too cute and wholesome. But given how much you're gonna squirm at any given one of them?" He grins, showing what is probably way too many teeth, and raises his hand, menacingly, just slowly enough for Virgil's eyes to widen in alarmed realization.
"Remus don't you fucking dare--"
"Too late!" Remus says, and to his dismay, snaps into existence a whole stack of framed photo displays.
Every single one of which, Virgil realizes, is absolutely mortifying.
"Oh! You're awake!" Patton says, wandering into the room.
Before he or Virgil can say anything else, Remus picks one of the photo sets up and shows it to him. "Look, Padre! I commemorated it!"
Patton's expression is like if someone presented him with a box of kittens and told him he magically wouldn't be allergic to them. Which is to say, delighted.
And because no one can quite say no to that face, this...is how Thomas breaking a tooth, results in Virgil glaring, every morning over breakfast, for a solid two months, at a picture of himself serenely tucked under Janus's chin.