Chapter Text
Patton is the first one to wake up, which isn’t surprising as he’s usually the first one awake— the only time people are awake before him is when they never went to sleep to begin with— and though he knows he should get up and make breakfast, and go to check on Roman, to see if he’s gotten back from his trip in the Imagination, he doesn’t want to move.
His stomach is still twisted into knots, dread buzzing in the air just out of reach, and he knows that if he gets up he’ll have to face it head on, that he’ll have to face it without the warmth that his partner gives off and the soft help of every one of his friends. He isn’t sure if he’s strong enough to deal with that. Not yet, maybe not ever. But not yet will have to be enough, he knows, as he settles back down between everyone and gives himself a couple of minutes. He tries to calm himself, steady himself, against the day with the assurances that everyone made the day before and the way they have all come together to fix this, and it helps. A little bit. It’s just enough that he’s able to eventually pull himself out of the tangle of limbs and tentacles— miraculously not waking anyone up with his movements— and head to the kitchen.
Snapping his fingers to get everything he needs, he steps over and grabs a pan from the cabinet, falling into the rhythm of cooking easily, even as his heartbeat starts to speed up. He breathes in the smell of sizzling bacon, and grabs some eggs too— before remembering that Virgil doesn’t like eggs in the morning, and deciding to grab some toast and throw it into the toaster for them. He makes everyone’s food, and keeps his mind off the future. He’s always liked cooking after all, and though he’d played up his confusion about it for Thomas’ videos, he’s actually always had a knack for it. It’s relaxing to him.
Patton thinks Logan would be very proud of him, being productive while helping himself calm down. It sounds exactly like what they’ve talked about before, that thing both of them need to learn to do better. Doing work without a whole lot of brain power needed. Because neither of them feel good enough yet to take normal breaks without feeling bad. So this is a good way to start taking breaks that actually make Patton feel better instead of worse.
He cracks another egg and adds it to the bowl with the rest of the eggs, the whisk easily whisking it all together and breaking the yolks. He hums to himself, and sets the whisk down to flip the bacon.
Besides, it’s not like he can talk to Roman without the others. It’s a talk where everyone will need to be there. Roman needs to know they all support him— his stomach twists again, as he dumps the eggs into another pan and decides to make some pancakes too, shifting onto his tiptoes to reach the batter and then grabbing another pan— and they can’t show that if it’s just Patton. If it’s just him, it’s likely that Roman will try and run away, either thinking it’s a trap, or that Patton is just feeling guilty and pitying him, and Patton isn’t sure which of those is worse.
— But the point is that he will never believe they all care and support him unless they’re all there to say it.
And maybe after the talk with everyone he should pull him aside and finally talk to him about The Split— He almost drops the pancakes when he tries to flip them, his hands starting to shake until he has to carefully set the pan down and shuffle over to grab mugs and set them near the coffee maker for later to make sure he doesn’t actually drop the food— or everything. Really, he has more that he needs to talk about than just The Split, but he thinks that it’s the most important, and it’s very possible that The Split is a main cause to a lot of the other issues that they would need to talk to Roman about. So… yes. He needs to talk about it first.
It’s really the least he can do after everything.
Patton flips the bacon for the last time and scoops the scrambled eggs into one of their bigger bowls, cracking two more eggs for Logan who prefers his eggs over easy instead, and starts debating what exactly to make Remus. He might just have to stick with the scrambled, since he doesn’t know what they like yet, and—
Patton doesn’t even hear footsteps before hands cage him in and he jolts, heart slamming against his ribs and a noise getting strangled in his throat, before he notices the green on the outfit and swallows. Relief makes him sag back, as he calms. It’s just Remus. Just Remus, he thinks with another painful thump of his heart, something he never thought he’d say or even think. Because he used to think Remus was evil. He used to treat him like it too. He pushes the thought away— it’s harder than usual, maybe because Remus’ Function, or maybe just because of guilt, but Remus deserves his attention— and cranes his neck to see what she’s doing, but when he does he sees a surprisingly genuine worry on its face, though that same manic energy that she always has is bubbling and coating voids eyes, trying to spill out and onto her face and into her movements.
Remus grins and leans closer, and even though they’re not dating, and he knows Remus doesn’t like him like that— which he doesn’t either, they may have come a long way but Patton just doesn’t like Remus romantically or anything. They are friends though— he has the almost worrying thought that Remus might just kiss him, just because. Maybe because she thinks it might comfort them, or maybe just because the thought got caught in rems head and she wants to try it out, but instead Remus buts their heads together and slips it’s arm around Patton, pulling him close and not moving.
Comfort it is, just not with a kiss. Not that Patton minds. He thinks he might even prefer this to kisses right now. He thinks it might be more helpful as he feels himself relax into it, even as he turns back to the food and starts flipping the pancakes and then flipping the eggs without breaking the yolk, he stays relaxed. Remus keeps herself pressed into his back, arms wrapped around his waist, chin propped on his shoulder, watching him cook, probably. It’s silent, and though it’s strange, it doesn’t feel… wrong.
It’s so nice actually that when Patton knows Remus needs to move for him to be able to continue, he pats his side. Remus gets it immediately, brightening up a bit and hopping onto him, backpack style. She’s so happy about the offer and delighted by the casual strength that she doesn’t even make a joke or comment about it. It settles easily, and so Patton continues on with breakfast, grabbing plates and starting to sort everything. He grabs the toast, buttering it and sliding it onto Virgil’s plate, with their bacon and their two pancakes. He makes Logan’s plate, over easy eggs, bacon, and two pancakes. He makes Janus’ plate, more scrambled eggs, five pieces of bacon, and one pancake. All while Remus says nothing, face peering at the food from his shoulder, arms looped around Patton.
He’s still not sure what Remus likes, but the silence feels weighted. Like breaking it would break the peace they’re in right now. And he’s starting to think that this comfort is not just for him, but also for Remus as well. The Letters have gotten them all shaken up; all of them are feeling a bit guilty and hurt after everything.
Well, if this time together is helping them, and it’s helping Patton too, he’s not going to complain. He’s… kinda happy he’s getting to have a moment with Remus actually.
Even after everything they just haven’t really hung out, even if Patton is curious about Remus. He feels too guilty to actually ask Remus to get to know each other. So that means he really doesn’t want to interrupt this moment. The first calm moment between the two of them. And so the silence can’t be broken; he’ll just have to figure it out without words. He does have a knack for that type of thing anyway, for his Family.
Patton grabs another egg and holds it up to Remus, who unloops one arm to take it. Patton tilts his head to see what octo does, blinking in surprise when Remus shrugs and cracks the egg straight onto an empty plate. Raw, of course. It would normally make Patton laugh, but the air isn’t in his lungs to do so, so he smiles quietly and cracks another egg onto the plate to the delight of Remus, who seems shocked that he’s actually ok with that. And if they want their eggs raw, then for their bacon…
Patton grabs a couple pieces of bacon and drops them on the now wet plate, which Remus seems to love. No pancakes for this though, if Remus wants pancakes those need to be on a separate plate. But something tells Patton she doesn’t actually want any. And since that instinct has never steered him wrong before, he listens to it, calling the plate done.
Patton grabs two of the finished plates and sets them on the table, and then the other two. He finally starts to hear stirring in the living room as he does this, whispered words not quite reaching the room but still loud enough to be audible, and the shuffling around of moving people, and it somehow makes the worry better and worse at the same time, but he tries to ignore it, just like he tries to ignore the way Remus is tensing.
He’s just finishing setting up the other’s plates when Logan walks into the kitchen, the onesie he’d had on the night before already switched with his normal suit. He rubs his eyes and looks at the two of them, eyes widening for a moment as Patton gives him a smile and Remus grins, looped arms squeezing for just a second, seemingly without thought. He still seems surprised as he presses quick, chaste kisses onto them both, but he gives them his own smile and nod, content, happy they’re not fighting and that they are actually getting along, before going over to the coffee machine and starting his routine with it like always— Patton could never seem to make the coffee right, so Logan started doing it a while ago— as Remus presses closer to Patton, like she’s swooning, and Patton smiles, his chest fluttering.
Just one more plate to make, Patton’s own, he frowns at the last three bacon pieces but grabs one anyway, pouring himself half of the rest of the scrambled eggs and taking one pancake, using a little flicker of Imagination to makes sure the rest of the food stays warm, just in case.
He looks down at his less than full plate. It may not be everything he wants, but that’s fine. Everyone else got everything they wanted, and that’s what he always strives for. His Family to be taken care of.
If Patton listens hard enough he thinks he can hear Virgil and Janus talking about something, and that calms him, telling him that they’ll be here soon and he can see them and make sure they eat, make sure that they’re ok and taken care of.
His mind drifts back to Roman as he waits and works, the silence starting to feel loaded— Roman isn’t being taken care of, he hasn’t been taken care of in a long time, he’s been hurt and confused and lost and no one even noticed, how long has Roman been hurting?— but he pushes it away for now. That is for later, right now it’s still early, and everyone is still waking up and getting ready for the day. He has to check in with everyone before focusing on later.
Patton and Logan work silently together in tandem, only the noises of the coffee machine and clanking cutlery coming from the silence. Patton focuses on that, on the mugs that are slowly being filled and the amount of forks they need, on the way that Logan is quietly humming under his breath, until they’re both done and Logan slides the mugs in front of the correct seats and settles down at his own. Patton hands him his silverware, taking his grateful nod, before gesturing for Remus to finally get off. Which void does, reluctantly and with a pout that makes Patton crack a smile as he settles down too.
Patton nervously eyes Remus as she stares at her plate with too much awe for it being the wet mess that it is. It grabs a spoon and starts shoveling it into her mouth. And he relaxes when her eyes shine and she continues to eat happily. The little grossed out flinch is overwhelmed with the excitement and pride that poofs up his chest at Remus liking the food.
Not long after Patton starts eating too, Virgil and Janus enter the kitchen, still talking to each other in hushed tones, a contrast to them not long ago, when their conversations always ended in one of them storming away or hiding away to cry about something hurtful the other said— even Janus has done that, yes— But Patton is glad they’re getting along better and mending their relationship. He’s glad that he’d made the right choice in leaving them alone so they could talk.
But everyone is here now, or well, Patton’s eyes dart over to Roman’s still empty seat and he winces. Not everyone. Roman is still missing, in the Imagination, no doubt. And if he thinks about it, which he does while he starts picking slowly at his bacon, Roman has often skipped Family meals. Patton thought at first it’s because the Dark Sides are now eating with them, but if he really thinks about it, it’s been a much less new problem than he likes to think. But— even if he doesn’t like the idea— as long as Roman is eating he doesn’t need to eat with them if that makes him uncomfortable. He really just wants to know if Roman has been eating at all. It would hurt to know Roman isn’t eating with them, but it would be awful to know that Roman is avoiding eating as a whole because of them.
Sides don’t exactly need to eat, but they’ve all found that they work better when they do at least every now and then, and since their bodies are human-like they get the urge. And it can be hard to ignore, so—
He’s snapped out of his thoughts by Janus letting out a sigh and leaning back in zir chair, “This is a bit of a precarious situation, isn’t it not? Almost like…” Janus seems to be searching for something before ze perks up and continues, “Well almost like the last movie we watched alone last week.” Ze hums, tapping their right hands nails against the table as ze finishes off her eggs, “Didn’t someone say there was no sequel to that? I suggest we don’t have another movie night soon to watch it. Since everyone so hated the first one. Do you all disagree?”
“That is not a bad idea, Janus.” Logan agrees, finishing up his coffee as Patton watches the two of them and tries to see what exactly they’re trying to do. Break the tension probably, and maybe give everyone ideas for this situation.
A movie night would be a good bonding activity.
And with even that little bit of tension broken, the silence is finally broken too. Idle chatter and small, quieter than normal, laughs starting to fill up the space.
Even Patton allows himself to relax a bit and talk about a new memory he’s just uncovered in his room that is starting to envelop his bed with Logan and Virgil, so they can give him some advice on how to let go of it and get it to calm down enough to go back to normal. It’s a very insightful talk, Patton thinks, it’s why he needs their help with Roman; they both think of things he never would. And it helps him feel better, about the new memory issue, and about their upcoming talk with Roman.
But it doesn’t help the tenseness of the room fully disappear. No matter what they talk about, there seems to be a hush of worry trying to strangle them all as their eyes flicker between the food, each other, and the doorway. And Patton knows what everyone is waiting for: Roman’s arrival.
They are all almost finished eating by the time they hear footsteps, but all of them, even the ones that are about to get up, quickly settle back into the table and shush. A string running over the room makes them all rigid as metal, a powerful thrumming shaking loudly in his ears. Patton swallows around a painful lump in his throat and grips his hoodie paws, heart starting to pick up and eyes starting to burn, as Roman finally enters the room. And he looks…
Fine. Normal. Like he always does.
And somehow…
Somehow that’s worse than any bruises or cuts or red faces could be. Maybe it’s because it shows how exactly normal these feelings are for Roman. Or maybe it’s because it shows how long he hasn’t noticed that one of their friends is hurting.
Roman pauses, something shuttering across his face, and it takes a moment for Patton to pin it— apprehension. It seems like Roman is taken aback that they’re all waiting for him— but it’s only there for a split second before he shakes it off and a smile takes over his face. He walks, or more like darts nervously, Patton notices, his chest giving a guilty thump, into the kitchen, grabbing the rest of the food that Patton has left in the pans and bowls, and starting to ramble in a way that sounds so familiar— so familiar that Patton wouldn’t be able to hear the difference if he wasn’t already looking for it— “Greetings, fellow sides! Apologies for my delayed entrance, but I had found the most interesting beasts in the lakes near the forest and I had simply needed to paint them! They looked to be made for it, after all!” Roman laughs, and Patton really wishes he could see any difference in the way he’s acting, in the way he sounds, in anything, but he knows that if he hadn’t read the letters, nothing would feel off, and that thought makes him feel sick.
It’s hard to talk, and so when Roman continues to ramble it isn’t Patton that cuts him off, it’s Janus, who says a simple, “We already know about the poems, Roman.”
Roman tenses, and this time Patton quickly speaks up, plastering a smile onto his face and waving his hands, “And we’re not mad or anything! And well, we know we shouldn’t have read them or talked about all you said, and I get if you are upset, you don’t have to forgive us and well—” It’s a pure type of horrified panic that overtakes Roman at that moment, and Patton never wants to see it again. It makes his stomach drop, a burning pain spreading through and under his skin as he watches the thoughts that must be going through Roman’s head and his efforts to stay calm completely falling through, like just the idea of them knowing has thrown him into a panic attack, because Patton has hurt him before, and he’s always expected to be hurt again, and now— without even trying— he has hurt him again. And that’s the last thing he wants; he wants to fix this, he wants to make it right.
And this… Roman laughs, but it doesn’t sound funny at all, it sounds overwhelmed and— and worried, his hands visibly shaking enough that he has to set down his plate— just like Patton had to. Did he learn that from Patton too? Had he somehow caused that? How exactly has he been hurting Roman for all these years? He would never know the full extent of all the little things he’s said or done that have broken Roman down— and Roman apologizes, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean— I well, I meant to write those, in the since that it wasn’t against my will, but I should have done better— I mean, made better choices and not—” A frustrated noise falls from him and he steps back, like he’s retreating, missing something and stumbling. Patton sees Remus twitch towards Roman in the corner of his eye, wanting to help but, for reasons he doesn’t know, stopping herself, and hastily looking away, his own body twitching with the same want but knowing that if he did try that Roman would never be ok with it right now. Knowing that he would only hurt him even more.
Logan shakes his head. “There is nothing to be sorry for. Not on your end at least. While we must apologize for our actions and behaviors— such as the reading of your personal items, as Patton has pointed out— you have done nothing wrong,” He pauses, and Patton looks over at Logan in worry, “And even if you have, I would say you’ve already apologized enough. You already feel sorry, even for things that you did not do, so—”
“No,” Roman cuts in, before he freezes, “Wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off, Logan. I just— I do think you’re important, you know? I think you should be listened to. I promise I didn’t cut you off because I think less of you!”
He sounds frantic, and it’s then that Patton realizes that— oh. He is panicking. But Patton knows how to fix that; he’s helped Virgil with panic attacks before, he’s helped Janus when ze panics about his shapeshifting, he’s helped Roman when he panicked about falling in the Sanders Sides popularity polls. But when Patton takes a step forward, Roman’s eyes swing to him and get wide and he looks— scared. He looks gut wrenchingly like the King at this moment. Small and unsure and wanting for approval, wanting to be what everyone else needs and wants him to be, in spite of himself. Like the last time Patton had ever seen the King, wide eyes and trembling bones, a small innocent child, so so undeserving of the pain they were going through, staring up at Patton as if he would fix everything by telling him what to be, as if he was the cause of the same pain he was seeking his help to get rid of, because… he was. He caused that pain, and had made it worse with his demands—
— And he still is, he realizes, a jolt going through him that throws him back, hands flinching away and eyes dropping to the ground, as he ignores the glances thrown his way.
“It’s alright, Roman,” Logan goes on, and Patton swallows, keeping his eyes down and stopping himself from fidgeting. It just feels… wrong to do when he knows that Roman is hiding so much right now. “I know you mean no offense. I know you have been trying to change, and though there are still backslides and issues, we simply need to actually communicate and that can be fixed eventually.” Something in the air shifts, but Patton can’t look up. If he sees that face on Roman again he’ll break down, and he can’t. He can’t. Because then Roman won’t be taken care of, and Roman needs them now.
“Logan, no, I just—” Roman’s voice shakes, and he hears him start tapping his fingers against the countertop, “I do have many things to apologize for. For my attitude and behavior most of all. I know I can be a lot and I promise to be better about that! I’ll— I’ll,” A strangled noise and the tapping gets faster. Patton fights the twitch that burrows in his bones at the noise and takes a deep breath. “I won’t mess up again! I’ll stay away and be quieter and I won’t— I’ll be right. I’ll do good. I promise.” His voice breaks, and Patton finally looks up, only to find that Roman is staring straight at him, eyes blurring in his tears, and desperation visible in the way he holds himself, wanting and needing and unsure.
A young boy curling his arms around himself, looking up at Patton and asking, “I’m not right? I’m not… good?” His voice wavering and small.
“No, you’re not.” Red and Green blur with tears.
“Ro…” Remus whispers, and Patton flinches again, looking over at Remus and catching their own wide eyes and hurt expression, and it’s too much.
Too much like before.
He can’t—
Roman shakes his head dizzyingly hard, eyes squeezing shut, and Patton can’t even pretend to not see the tears that fall, as they squeeze his heart. “I should not have burdened you with my feelings, nor my unfair musings about your feelings that I had no way of knowing. I should have kept them to myself and went along with my work. But instead I let my dramatics get the best of me and wrote them in a way that I should have known you would find out about. I… I should not have allowed for my feelings to get in the way of my work and I profusely apologize for letting this happen.”
“No, Roman, you don’t—” Patton's protest is drowned out by everyone else’s, and he isn’t even sure how he was going to end that. Just that the words had feel needed, and impossible not to say, like they were being pulled from his tongue like the tongue itself wanted to be pulled out. For the horrible things he’s said. For the horrible actions he’s sowed in the others to do. For ever hurting the others with it. But it doesn’t seem to help Roman. And whatever the others say doesn’t seem to reach him either.
Until— Virgil steps forward, something determined in their eyes as they grab Roman’s hand, “Ok, if that’s what you think.” Roman blinks in surprise, some more tears falling, and Patton can see the way that hurts Virgil, but they continue anyway. “Does my anxiety make my ideas and concerns any less valid? Does my anxiety mean that I do my job worse? Does me being happy mean I do my job worse?”
“Of course not!” Roman quickly denies and Virgil nods, a small smile taking over their face like their point has just been made.
“Then,” Virgil says, pulling Roman closer when he starts to shake harder, “Your emotions don’t make you worse at your job, either, Princey. We can do our jobs and feel every emotion under the sun. You don’t have to be happy all the time, just like I don’t have to be miserable all the time.”
“Virgil’s right,” Patton is finally able to get out, stepping closer. And when Roman doesn’t flinch at it this time, only squeezing Virgil’s hands, Patton hesitantly steps closer again and gestures for Janus, who has been standing off to the side like ze wants to say something. “You can be happy or sad or angry or confused, and it doesn’t mean you can’t do your job. You can create whatever you want, do whatever you want, be whoever you want— It doesn’t mean we’ll love you any less. We love you, Roman. Not just…” Patton holds out his hand, and Roman’s hovers over his, his eyes conflicted. He can fix this. “Not just the Prince.”
Roman’s hand drops into his and he squeezes, a shuttering breath falling from him that Patton can feel in his own lungs, like it’s being shaken lose from a shared worry and when Janus steps up, ze merely nods and adds, “Your emotions do not need to be hidden either. When we say that your emotions won’t interfere with your work… nor our love, we mean that you can talk to us about them,” Janus catches his eyes, and though Patton can’t tell exactly what zir gaze says, Roman can, and he can see the way it helps. “Your emotions, your ideas, and you are not a burden. You should never be treated as such by anyone.”
“And,” Virgil whispers, the worry in their voice heavy and genuine, “Don’t hurt yourself, Princey. I… I know I’m hard on you, but I really want you to feel good. Just… just ask for help if you feel bad, ok?”
Patton watches Roman’s face scrunch up, disbelief and something else warring before it crumbles into hot tears, and Roman pulls them all into a hug, smushing them all together and crying into them, promising that he’ll try to not hurt himself, and that he’ll tell Virgil about his hurts before he does anything. None of them complain, or say anything, clutching back just as hard as Roman finally just is.
Patton presses his face into Roman’s shoulder and finally lets some of his own tears fall.
And he hugs Roman for the little boy he failed, and for the young man he failed, and for the present and future, that he promises to make better for him.
He’ll make himself, make everything, better for Roman.
It’s quiet Everyone is silent, Everyone is waiting,
For the storm to sweep the area,
And burn through their precious relationships,
But it’s a necessary storm
A storm that will wash away the bad
and fertilize the soul in which we can grow,
And maybe it’s a first step too,
A tsunami of feelings to eat alive the old,
Until we cling to each other and build,
a new steady structure,
It’s a cleansing fire and
a soothing rain,
A downpour of us to crack through
the rough rocks
of your masked existence,
And it’s going to be hard, and painful, and loud,
So let’s sit calm in the silence—
Until the storm comes pouring in—
And find what we can learn from this.