Work Text:
Janus was the first to realize something was off. It was little things that he brushed off at first, a missed interview, an extra, extra reminder, a slip up in recalling the date, a sort of absence that Roman had usual displayed but now it seemed different. At first, he just jotted it down as a phase, an unusually bad spell of Roman being himself. It wasn’t unusual for the man to get lost in his head, consumed by his own fantastical thoughts but what tipped him off that something was different was the fact that Roman was frustrated.
Roman had always been a little absent-minded but he’d taken his flaw with good nature. He’d laugh as he rushed around, getting ready for an interview he’d forgotten, chuckling at Janus’ impatient foot tapping. He would take extra care to tie his tie as slowly and perfectly as possible until Janus was threatening to drag him out of the house by his hair. But now…
Now forgotten interveiws were met with groans and perplex stares, reminders of appointments were reacted to with confusion. Questions of, “remember that ____” were met with simple but painful, “no, I don’t”.
Remus was the next to notice. He was used to tormenting his brother and teasing him in his own special, loving way but he immediately could tell something was different. Roman’s reactions had been exasperated in the past, a long sigh, an eyeroll, even the occasional yelling and shouting. Now, it seemed different. It was like Roman was a different person, his reactions were bizarre, random, and more often than not, they escalated quickly. Remus was confused and, by the look in Roman’s eyes, so was he.
Virgil was next to notice. It was the fact that Roman didn’t seem to remember when his nephews were coming home, when they were leaving, how their phone calls were filled with déjà vu. Virgil would find himself repeating the same stories repeatedly, as if he was some kind of looping audiobook. In person, too, Roman was different. He was still his usual, kind self most of the time but Virgil’s keen abilities noted many of the changes that were going on. When Roman would tell him the same things over and over again, Virgil got an idea that something was wrong but he loathed to admit it to himself. Inevitably, though, it became undeniable.
Patton was next to notice. The sunny man didn’t see as much of the fashionista as the rest of them did, but he was there for one of the worst of Roman’s episodes. He’d been closing up his café when he’d noticed his friend standing outside, looking lost. Patton had walked out, smile on his face, ready to greet Roman when the man had turned to him, a look of frustrated confusion expressed in his features. He’d been on his way somewhere and gotten lost. When Patton asked where he’d been going, Roman admitted that he didn’t remember. Patton’s smile had faltered for a moment before he offered to drive him home.
Logan didn’t want to notice. Roman had been there for him more than anyone else he’d ever known other than Virgil. Virgil, in his time away from Logan had found and grown close to Patton but Logan hadn’t had as much exposure to the soft father figure. Roman had been his savior, even if he was a little late to the heroic act. He’d been the one to offer quiet reassurances, carry him in his arms, give him the opportunity to be himself, hold his hand while he was healing, and had never abandoned him. So, when Janus called them all together, with Roman seated next to him, Logan’s stomach sank.
“Roman and I have something to tell you all.” Janus began, slowly, his hand resting on Roman’s shoulder as he stood above the man, his eyes trained on his friend. Remus, who was jumping up and down on the arm chair in the corner, settled to a soft bouncing motion. The room was heavy and quiet, Virgil glanced quickly at Logan who was staring at his feet.
“It’s foggy.” Roman said quietly, almost too quietly for them to hear. Patton lowered his eyes, blinking hard, and pulling his glasses off to polish them. Janus gave Roman’s shoulder a squeeze.
“The doctors believe that Roman has early onset Alzheimer’s.” Janus announced. He didn’t have the heart to sugarcoat it, he didn’t have the capacity to. He was coping with the fact that the little hope he’d had that it was something else had been crumpled up and cast aside. The silence in the room grew heavier. The only noise was the squeaking of the chair as Remus continued to bounce slightly.
“Oh.” Virgil said at last, needing to do something about the weight of the room, “What’s next?” Janus took a deep breath to steady himself and, hopefully, his voice,
“We’re still discussing options but diet and some medication could help to improve the symptoms.” He offered a tight smile to Roman who looked up at him, “We’ll do it together, like we’ve done everything else.” Roman offered a slight huff and stood,
“I’m going to take a shower, I think.” He said softly before exiting the room. Patton looked up, his eyes shining from unshed tears,
“I knew there was something,” he whispered, “I just…” the rest of the words were caught in his throat. Janus stepped across the room and sat next to him,
“I know.” He soothed, “We all hoped, Patton.” Logan stood up abruptly at this and walked out. A few seconds later they heard the front door open and close. Virgil cast a glance around at the others before he followed him.
The day had the audacity to be bright and sunny. Mockingbirds sang their plethora of stolen songs and bees and butterflies hovered busily around the garden that Roman and Logan had planted years ago. Logan was sitting in front of it, staring at the colorful flowers and following the movements of a spider spinning her web. Virgil approached him and sat down next to him,
“Hey.” He said, letting his little brother know that he was there. Despite the fact they were both in their twenties, Virgil felt like he was seventeen again, trying to comfort his overwhelmed and broken kid brother.
“10 years.” Logan said quietly. Virgil glanced at him,
“What?”
“After diagnosis, a 10-year life expectancy for someone with early onset Alzheimer's is a generous expectation.” Virgil sighed and scooted closer, wrapping an arm around Logan and tugging him closer until the younger man was forced to lay his head on his brother’s shoulder.
“Stop it.” Virgil breathed, “Stop thinking.”
“I can’t.” Logan whispered, his voice sounding tight, “My mind won’t…”
“Won’t shut up?” Virgil finished for him. “Yeah, mine won’t either.”
“He’s not even 60.” Logan breathed shakily. Virgil felt a lump forming in his own throat,
“I know.”
“He won’t see us do so much.”
“He will.” Virgil insisted firmly, “Because we are going to do so much. The universe is putting us on a clock? Well, fuck the clock and lets just live. Uncle Ro isn’t exactly the same, sure but he is still Princey and I still intend to make the upcoming Halloween epic, make Thanksgiving another fiasco, this next Christmas will be unparalleled and New Years will be filled with many memorable photos.”
“I’m scared.” Logan admitted, “One day, he won’t remember us. I’m not ready for that.” Virgil squeezed Logan tighter,
“Me neither.” He answered, “I don’t think we’ll ever be ready for anything that coming towards us. Just remember that we’re here to help each other. Roman will be here for us, still. His love isn’t going to change.” Logan didn’t answer and Virgil pressed a kiss into his hair, “You want to cry?” Logan shook his head, “Do you need to?” Logan hesitated before shrugging. Virgil sighed, “It’s not going to get easier, Lo-Lo, as much as I hate to admit it. This is the best we have right now. I’m not going to tell you not to be sad and to just enjoy the time you have because that’s bullshit and I feel like crying right now.” Logan let out a small sniff, “We’re gonna do this.” Virgil said, “The universe fucking hates us but we’re gonna do this and I’m not leaving you for one second of this journey.”
“Many describe Alzheimer’s like watching someone you love die before they pass.” Logan said, his voice catching,
“Sounds about fucking right.” Virgil coughed, his own eyes beginning to brim with tears, “I wish there was something we could do to fix it, to change it, or to make it go away.”
“Me too.” Logan agreed, pushing himself closer to Virgil.
“No happy ending this time.” Virgil breathed, “Just us and a fucked up future.”
And there, in the sunlight, amidst the droning of the bees and the fluttering of the butterflies, the siblings held each other, looking for a place to feel solid in the uncertainty of the future and the trials they were unprepared to face. The whole situation was unfair. Hadn’t they suffered enough? What had Roman done to deserve such a scourge? The kind, bubbly, somewhat childish man was the least deserving victim that fate could’ve picked. They say a parent’s greatest pain is to lose their child, but Virgil and Logan would argue that the pain of having a guardian, a protector, a comforter, a knight in shining armor, get taken away from you, little by little was a crueler treatment. So, in solitude, they wept, the mourned, they grieved, and they would, over and over again for many hours, days, and years to come.