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It had been a long, long day indeed. The small study for two was awaiting them, and Logico was more than happy to retire for the night. Another good day of solving murders with sound logic and reasoning. Of course, sometimes those culprits got away but he’d happily find them and prove himself right once again. Such is the way of a sound, logical life. Logico folded himself onto the comfortably worn sofa, ready to spend an evening in bliss with the man of his dreams.
Unlike the deductive, however, Irratino seemed distant. A puzzled look on his face, he muttered, “But that doesn’t make sense…”
Logico’s ears pricked. He sat upright, facing the inspector with a grave look. Surely Irratino would be happy over something that senseless. He always delighted in trickery, faking deaths and murders, even toying with his own heart. Such a dour look was out of place on his face, especially when faced with the idea of something so senseless. “Is everything alright?” Logico couldn’t help his own question being blurted out.
Irratino faced him, the puzzled look warping to concern. “I could ask you the same, my dear.” He sat down, sighing. “I mean, it’s just… whatever did you mean by that?”
It was Logico’s turn on being confused. “By what?”
”You mentioned something about your family, and their similarities to… to the Frankengreens…”
”Well, they are. Or, were.” Logico sighed, turning away. “Haven’t seen them in a long time. Don’t plan to, either. For all I care, they don’t exist.” He didn’t want to talk about them. Or think about them, or know about them. The only family he has, as far as Logico was sure, was himself and the man next to him. They needed nobody else, just each other.
“I, I see…” Irratino’s voice trailed off. “If you don’t want to talk about it, then…”
An uncomfortable silence. Neither man wanted to speak further on the issue, it was clear Logico had shut it down. His mind was sound and secure on it, unwavering in his conviction.
No wonder it was his irrational boyfriend who carried on, always willing to pitch in with his own bizarro techniques. “My parents. My mothers. They were nothing like Dr. Frankengreen.’
Logico’s eared piqued.
Irratino continued. “They were full of love and they always wanted the best for me. Taught me everything I believed in, from the marot cards to trusting my gut over anything else.” His smile soft, he turned to face Logico again, cupping his face in one hand. “They would’ve loved you too, I know it.” His face shattered. “But they, well the coroner said they passed. I doubt it, it always screamed foul play to me but I guess they preferred proof over their methods… I miss them both. More than anything. I even faked my own death on that very island, hoping to feel close but,” he laughed, “nothing. They’re gone.”
Irratino didn’t cry or scream, his voice was even and level as though he was brazenly talking about any other case. Still, his words contained a different gravity, one much more intimate. “So, that’s why it doesn’t make sense.” Irratino concluded. “Who would have a child only to be so cruel to them?”
“Plenty,” Logico shrugged.
“But it doesn’t make sense! Even for me!”
”Because it does make sense!” Logico shouted, starting Irratino. “It makes perfect sense! You’re just too dense to see it!”
A beat. Logico recoiled at his own words, expecting Irratino to snap back. Instead, he tilted his head to one side, curls bouncing, as he asked, “Why then, deductive? Why does it make sense?”
The deductive sharply inhaled. He thought for only a second, before answering, “Because he wasn’t meant to exist.”
Irratino’s eyes widened, as Logico continued in his matter-of-fact way, standing up and turning to face the wall. “A child came into play in a broken home. The father struggled to make an income. The mother was bound to her kin, ever hurting before running away. She never came back. The father needed someone to take her place, and there was a viable option. The child became the victim.” He glanced back. “That child knew not to speak out of turn, did everything right and thought that logic could save everything. Alas, chaos and emotions ran high in that house. I was lucky it didn’t spread too far, that I was able to hide the worst of it.”
“Was he-“
“Arrested?” Logico gave a smile. “Don’t make me laugh. Of course he wasn’t. He’s still there, slaving away to whomever was depraved enough to hire a monster like him. Good. I hope he rots.” Logico exhaled, sitting back down next to Irratino, head resting on his shoulder. “And thus, that is the case of The Boy In The Dying Town. No deaths, excluding his brother but that wasn’t until years in the future and well, you know the rest. Just a man hurting his son out of his own anger and spite. Simple logic.”
“No.” Irratino breathed. “That was not logic. That was abuse.”
“I never said it wasn’t abusive, just that it had a-“
“Abuse never has a reason! You can’t just-“
“Stop!” Logico ordered. “I know. I know there’s no justification or rhyme, I just need an out. I left that place as soon as I could. To be fair, coming out sped things up considerably, even if the rough sleeping wasn’t nice.”
“You… oh. Oh no…” Irratino stood up, Logico’s one leaning body now lying on his side on the sofa. “You aren’t saying that-“ his words trail off as the room fell deathly silent. “How long was this…”
“A few weeks. College caught on quick, and by the time I graduated I was rooming. Then the deductive business took off, and now here we are. All’s well that ends well.”
“And are you sure you’re okay?”
Logico paused. “I… I used to have nightmares. Hated sleeping, especially at my first house with him. But it’s become easier now I’m far away.” He blinked, and for the first time since the conversation began, his smile was genuine and warm. “And it’s nice to be with someone who isn’t hurting me.”
Irratino smiled back. “Thanks, darling.”
“Though considering my clientele, I won’t be surprised if you stab me while I’m sleeping.”
He ignored that last part, drawing Logico close in a tight embrace. Now they were together, he’d make sure nobody hurt him. Both hearts had been laid bare, no knives or harsh words pointed at either partner. Just a warm love that bubbled with hoping the other was alright, soon settling to a calm warmth of knowing they would be as long as they had each other. Both of them knew that if or when a child was brought into their home, they would be loved like Irratino, rather than treated like a monster like the Frankengreens or hurt like Logico. After all, a hurting child could not be justified, not by the rational nor the illogical.