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edupunkn00b · 1 month ago

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On a Butterfly's Wing, Ch. 20: Commencement Means the Start

Epilogue - Thirteen months and nine days later

WC: 3900 - Rated: T - CW: life goes on, nearly completely fluff. These bois get their happy ending.

Prev - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Friday, June 13, 2026

💙💚Intrulogical

Timer still beeping, Logan had just pulled the tray of roasted vegetables from the oven when he spotted Remus’ car pull up into the driveway. Good. Back before dark, at least. The engine cut and Patton spilled out of the driver’s seat, excited voice floating in through the open window.

“And you really think Ms. Forth liked my model?” He waited for Remus to climb out of the passenger seat and closed the door, then consciously tapped the ‘lock’ button, watching the lights flash.

Leaning over the hood, Remus nodded, proud smile beaming bright even from Logan’s vantage point inside. “Even the interns are allowed to call the big boss Olivia,” he laughed. “It’s okay.”

“But I thought you owned the—“

Remus laughed, finger held over his lips. “Not even Olive knows that. And yes, your design knocked her socks off!”

Logan waved from the window as they turned toward the house and Patton called back, “Dad! You gotta hear this! They’re gonna use my model in the demo at Pax!”

“That’s fantastic!” Logan cheered. “Why don’t you two come on in and tell me all about it!”

💙❤️Logince

“You got this, Lo.”

Ro’s gentle encouragement in his ears, Logan flicked his wrist, and watched the paper-thin crepe flip up into the air—and come splattering down on the stove top. Turning off the burner and scraping the mess away from the element before it could ignite, Logan laughed. “The stove has certainly got it, at least.”

Smiling, Ro, pulled him close. “Hey, not bad for your third try.” Logan raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Not great,” he admitted with a laugh. “But not bad.”

Happily accepting a consolatory kiss, Logan melted in his arms. “I think if we wish to have our dinner sometime tonight, you should take over this step.”

“One more try,” Ro encouraged, turning him around to face the stove again and reaching past him to turn on the burner. “Just one more try.”

“Hey, Dad? Ro? You got a minute? Well…”

Eyes darting over to Ro’s, Logan found matching worry at the tone in Patton’s voice.

“Of course, Pat,” Logan said and turned off the stove.

Patton stood in the hallway, fingers gripping his phone. “Um… Jax is on their way here, I… I know I should’ve talked to you first, and this is a really big thing to ask for and I shouldn't just spring this on you but everything’s happening so fast and they're scared and don't know what else to do and—“

“Whoa there, bud,” Ro soothed, drawing him in to the kitchen. “Slow down. What’s happened?”

Nodding, Logan pulled out a chair. “Whatever’s going on, Patton, we’ll figure it out together.”

Patton let out a slow breath before nodding and meeting their eyes. “Jax, um… Jax told their parents and, well…”

Three sets of eyes shot to the front hall when the doorbell rang.

“Can they stay here?” Patton asked, wincing. “They’re nineteen, they just only have a part-time job and, that asshole Max won’t even talk to them since they told him and now their parents…” He shook his head. “They just need—“

Logan was already on his feet. He squeezed Patton’s shoulder as he passed. “You did the right thing, Pat.”

Together, they opened the door. Eyes red-rimmed, with a backpack slung over their shoulder and an overflowing Ikea bag clutched with both hands, Jax looked up at them from the porch.

They’d just begun to show.

Smiling, Logan reached for the bag. “Come on in, Jax,” he said. “Welcome home.”

💙💚💛Intruloceit

Logan ended the call with Dr. Schmetter and sat and watched dappled light from the window play against his laptop screen. A faint clatter wafted through the closed door, followed by a muffled burst of Re’s laughter and Jay’s low response. He had a lot to think about but, right now, all he needed was his family.

He skipped down the steps, pausing when his phone buzzed in his pocket. “Oh,” he said aloud as he walked into the kitchen. “It’s Pat,” he said, smiling. His cheeks felt tight and Re’s eyes lingered on his before he read the message.

“I see our boy’s getting up to some good trouble on his first day,” Jay murmured approvingly. “Susan’s got a team from WA-ACLU down there, too,” he added. “Pat’s in good hands.”

“I know he is,” Logan said, nodding down at the screen. “I’m proud of him,” he said, voice a little shakier than he’d intended.

Without another word, Re pulled him close, taking the phone and sliding it into his own pocket.

“Lo?” Jay asked, watching him over Re’s shoulder.

Re pulled back then, searching his eyes. “Rough session?” he asked, one arm curled around his back as his other hand came up to cup Logan's cheek.

Licking his lips, Logan began to nod then stopped. “Not quite rough, but…” No. His early sessions with Dr. Schmetter had been rough. This was something different. “I… I still wonder sometimes,” he began.

Jay moved close and Logan melted in their shared embrace, surrounded by their warmth, their strength. He breathed in their love, in the softness, the certainty that he could safely voice the quiet worry in the back of his mind and they would still be here in his arms.

They’d spent a few confused months, floundering for an explanation for what they’d all experienced. But when Jay’s PI backed up all the strange little facts Logan suddenly and impossibly knew about Pat’s birth mother… they moved beyond rational explanations of psychosis and just accepted it.

“I wonder how he’s doing.”

Nodding slowly, Jay buried his face in Logan’s hair.

Re hugged them both, long, strong arms pulling them close. “If he’s anything like you, Lo Lo,” he said after a long moment. “And I think he is… I know he’s gonna find his way home.”

💔 Logan Croft Sanders

The drive across the bridge was long, rainy, and energized. Fighting the magnetic pull of the glowing clock set in the dash, Logan bobbed his head, tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the songs in Patton’s massive It’s Finally Over graduation playlist.

To no-one’s surprise—except, perhaps, the school administrators responsible for ceremony logistics—traffic heading into Seattle on a rainy Friday afternoon in June was… excessive. They’d only just passed the midspan on the bridge when Patton’s playlist looped around for the second time.

Pat sang along from the passenger seat, oblivious to how dangerously close they were to arriving late. Or, Logan thought, glancing at his son’s bright smile, he simply chose to be happy rather than worry about something neither of them could change.

Logan smiled, mouthing the lyrics and biting back a curse when a shiny new black Tesla cut them off.

“Good save, Dad,” Patton chuckled, flipping open his visor mirror and checking how his hair had set.

“In not rear-ending…” Squinting, Logan struggled to decipher the vanity plate. “Eight-zero-n-d-…” He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Eight-one-double-oh-seven out there?”

Pat's chuckle turned into a full laugh. “I meant not dropping the f-bomb on my poor impressionable ears." He grinned. "I mean, This would be a tragic time for me to hear the word ‘fuck’ for the first time.”

“Okay, okay,” Logan laughed, the word still sounding strange in his technically-adult son’s voice. “Allow me my… eccentricities in my advanced age.”

“You know, I read that cursing helps you withstand pain,” he said as he tapped at his phone. “There was a study and everything.”

“Are you looking for the research?” Logan asked, risking a quick glance.

“Nah, Discord,” he said, flipping over his phone too quickly for Logan to catch more than a glimpse of the last gif Virgil had sent to the family group chat. He tapped a bit more, then looked out the window. “Hey, I can see the stadium!”

So focused on the erratic lane changes of the cars around them, Logan hadn’t registered how much traffic had not thinned per se but had accelerated. They were less than a mile out from their exit. “Excellent,” he breathed, the knot between his shoulders loosening just a bit.

Their increased speed drove the rain harder against the windshield and for the next three songs on the playlist, they made a game of catching every time the wipers matched the beat. By the time the opening bars of I Love It started for the third time, they were close enough to the venue to spot soggy directional signs, the cheerful lettering: Graduates This Way → barely visible as the tagboard drooped under the weight of a day’s worth of rainfall.

“Wow,” Patton muttered, shoulders dancing. “Who would’ve thought paper signs were the wrong way to go in Seattle, huh?”

“You know who you sound like, don’t you?” Logan asked, fighting a smile.

Patton laughed, “Am I wrong, though?”

“You certainly aren’t.” Logan shook his head with a chuckle. Scanning the road ahead, he spotted a shallow covered area near the Graduates entrance. “I’ll drop you off here, then park,” he said as he pulled up and eased to a stop. “Save you a bit of a soaking.“

“Right on time!” Patton cheered and Logan finally dared to peek at the clock.

Huffing out a laugh, Logan loosened his iron grip on the steering wheel. “Not sure how we pulled that one off.” He waited while Patton tucked his phone and wallet into his pockets, then reached out. “Hey…” Logan cupped his cheek and smiled. “I’m so proud of you, Pat.”

Patton looked back at him, smile wry until their eyes met. Sunshine burst across his face and he covered his dad’s hand with his own. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Logan nodded and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He patted his cheek one more time and let him go. “We’ll meet up inside, okay? We’ve got a little surprise for you at home.”

“You do?” His smile grew and he made a show of covering one ear. “No spoilers!” he laughed and got out of the car, closing the door behind him. “See you after!” he called loudly and followed the stream of graduates inside the hall.

While Patton had arrived on time, it seemed as though Logan had arrived far, far too late to find a parking spot anywhere close to the visitor’s entrance. Unsurprising for a school-based event, only ‘compact’ spots remained, unsuitable for a family-sized vehicle such as his.

On the third pass through the main lot, Logan spotted a placard announcing overflow parking was available on the other side of the stadium. He followed the signs and finally found a spot. Dashing through the rain, he entered his parking information on the go, taunted by the rapidly ticking clock in the upper right corner of his phone.

7:58.

Socks already damp, he dodged another puddle and tried to refocus on entering his license plate number into the little app.

It would be fine. It would be fine. Everything the school ever did was behind schedule and graduation would be no exception. He would make it inside before they started. He would make it. He would make—

A car horn blared from the road next to him and broke him from his litany. He stopped and took a deep breath.

Cheerful animated confetti announced his card had been charged. He wiped rain from the screen and pocketed the phone before continuing. In the distance, another family had just arrived at the covered entrance, shaking rain from umbrellas and slickers, smiling and laughing as they filed inside as a group.

He quickened his pace and before long, followed their path, thanking the usher who led directed him to the closest aisle. The stadium lights flashed twice, a five minute warning that they were about to begin.

Late. Just on time for LW high school.

“Dad!” Remy’s voice carried over the din and he searched the crowd.

All three boys—young men, Logan corrected himself—stood a few rows below, waving their arms to get his attention.

Worry sloughed off his shoulders and he smiled. “You made it!” he cheered, drawing them all into a hug as he took his seat. “Pat was worried,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” Virgil drawled. “Pat was worried.”

“Of course we made it,” Remy said, passing Logan a pack of tissues to dry the rain from his eyeglasses.

Emile smiled. “Wouldn’t miss this for anything!”

“Nor would we,” a bright voice boomed behind them.

Logan looked up. Roman led Janus and Remus through a knot of families clogging the aisle and into the empty seats behind them.

“You came!” Logan stood and reached over their seats to shake their hands. Janus’ lingered on his, steadying himself as he maneuvered into his seat.

“You invited us,” Janus said as though there couldn’t possibly be anywhere else they'd want to be on a Friday night. Smiling, he released Logan’s hand. “We’re happy to be here.”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep us away,” Roman laughed, fist-bumping each of the boys in turn.

“Not even Cthulhu could make us miss this, Lo Lo,” Remus added, the new nickname chasing the last of the rain’s chill from Logan's bones.

Janus brushed at the rain on his slacks with a wry grin. “Though he certainly seems to have given it his all. Or Zeus' all, I suppose.” He raised an eyebrow at Logan. “You know, we almost missed the entrance—the signs are all soaked through! One would imagine a school in the Pacific Northwest would think to waterproof their signage!”

Logan threw his head back in a laugh. “One would imagine.” The lights flashed again and the ushers began to close the aisle doors. Nodding at each of them, Logan turned and took his seat. “Well, they look as though they are nearly ready to begin.”

“Are you ready for this?” Remus asked, hand resting on his shoulder. He jerked his chin toward the boys next to him then out at the floor of the stadium, lined with empty folding chairs waiting for the graduates.

“No,” Logan said honestly. Then he smiled. “But I’m thrilled we’re here.”

Nodding, Remus gave his shoulder a squeeze and his brow crinkled. “Fuck, Lo Lo, your muscles are like rocks. Can I help?” he asked, one hand on each shoulder.

“Ah…” Logan bit back an instinctive response of ‘I’m fine.’ Remus’ hands radiated heat, the warmth seeping right through his damp shirt. It felt… nice. “If… Y—yes,” he said at last, practicing the simple answer he could hear in his therapist’s voice.

‘Yes.’ and ‘No.’ are both complete sentences. Use the one that fits and only explain yourself if you wish.

“Thank you,” he added, the last bit breathy as Remus’ hands went to war with the knots in his shoulders. His eyes fell shut and he whispered again, “Thank you.”

Janus’ voice murmured close to his ear. “A sculptor’s hands,” he began, the words that followed drowned out by the start of Pomp and Circumstance.

“Rain check on the rest of that,” Remus whispered near his other ear and gently relaxed his grip before sitting back.

The warmth of Remus' hands was slow to dissipate, and Logan let the music wash over him as happy tears burned his eyes. He looked out over the empty seats, one of them about to be filled by his giddy, irrepressible son. He looked to his left where the rest of his boys sat, Virgil with his camera ready, Remy, grinning, hand threaded with Emile’s. He listened to the happy, quiet whispers between the twins behind them, and Janus’ soft answering chuckle.

They’d made it. They’d all made it. They’d made it here to Patton’s graduation. Patton, through Herculean effort and determination and endless optimism had made it to graduation.

Cameras flashing from the other side of the stadium broke him from his reverie and he took out his own phone, ready to record every moment that came next.

For all the sturm und drang of the trip across Lake Washington, the ceremony itself was absurdly brief. By the time they all got out and met up with Patton in the front atrium, the sun had not even set. The rain had stopped sometime during the commencement speeches, and the cleared skies were brighter than they had been when Logan had first arrived.

"I really am quite grateful you all came," Logan said quietly to Janus as they watched Roman pose with the boys. "It…" He licked his lips, considering his words. "It means a lot to him and…" He met his eyes. "And a lot to me."

"You sound somewhat surprised we came," Janus said, drawing closer when Remus joined them.

"I… Well…" They exchanged a look, silently speaking volumes to each other.

Remus bumped their shoulders together, grinning. "Nah, Lo Lo," he said. His smile warmed Logan down to his toes. "We wanted to be here with you."

"Really?" Logan asked. "I thought—i feared you accepted out of politeness."

"Ah," Janus said, nodding. Again they shared a look. "Would it be helpful if we were more direct in expressing what we want?"

Remus flashed him another grin and gripped his shoulder. "We can do that."

"Well, y—yes," Logan nodded, irrationally hoping Remus wouldn't let go. "Tha—that would be very helpful."

"Then we shall," Janus murmured and watched the boys as they chased each other over the stadium steps.

They lingered in the golden light, none of them in a rush to join the traffic worming its slow way through the overcrowded parking lot and back over the bridge. Logan snapped more pictures than he could count, reluctant to stop when Roman offered to take a series that included him, as well.

He relented when Janus leaned close, hand soft on his arm. “They will want pictures of their father, Logan,” he murmured.

Eventually the sun set and the first stars glimmered, fighting valiantly to be seen past the city’s lights. The parking lot quieted and they headed toward their cars.

“Mr. H!” Patton called, waving at a figure standing at the rideshare pick-up area across from the first row of cars in the now nearly-empty lot.

Logan recognized Roman’s little two-door coupe parked in the tiny compact spots that had been too tight of a fit for his own vehicle. With a chuckle, he wondered if Roman had made Remus ride scrunched in the back seat. Just beyond it sat Remy’s car.

“Mr. H, I did it!” Patton cheered and ran ahead to greet his favorite teacher.

Frowning down at his phone, Mr. Hopkins was surrounded by two stacks of plastic totes and a large tarp folded under his arm. His face lit up at Patton’s call, waving back with a cheery, “You did! I’m proud of you, Pat!”

“We all are,” Logan said as they joined him.

“I can see that,” Mr. Hopkins grinned, one arm wrapped over Patton’s shoulders. He laughed when Patton took a selfie of them. “You’ve brought an entourage with you,” he remarked, eyes bouncing from face to face. His gaze lingered on Roman’s, recognition flickering, but he seemed determined not to stare. He turned to face Patton.

“Right!” Patton laughed. “Everybody, this is Mr. H—Mr. Hopkins. He’s my theatre teacher, well, was my theatre teacher.” He pointed to each in turn. “You know my dad, and those are my brothers, Virgil and Remy, and Remy’s husband Emile…”

Hopkins shook each hand in turn, again peeking at Roman. Logan glanced over his shoulder, worried he was making him uncomfortable. Roman was good with fans and typically dealt with even the pushiest politely and effectively.

But Roman’s eyes were fixed on Hopkins, eagerly waiting to be introduced.

“And this is Remus and his husband Janus,” Patton continued. He winked at them before gesturing toward Roman. “And this Remus’ brother, Roman.”

Janus hid a laugh behind his hand as Roman inclined his head as he shook Hopkins’ hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Hopkins,” he said, voice a little deeper than usual. Was he—

Logan’s eyes flicked over to Remus’ and he nodded, smirking at his brother’s flirting.

“Please,” Hopkins said, still shaking Roman’s hand. “Call me Lucas.”

“Lucas,” Roman repeated. “I’ve always liked that name.”

“Can I call you Lucas, too?” Patton asked, shoulders dancing the way they did when he was thinking of a joke.

Hopkins—Lucas—laughed. Was he blushing? “You bet!”

“So whatcha doin’ out here, Teach?” Remus asked, grinning back at his brother when he shot him a look that would slay a more fragile man.

“Oh,” Hopkins said with a heavy sigh. His earlier smile faded as he patted one stack of totes. “Waiting for my third Uber of the night, actually.” His phone dinged and he looked down at the screen. “Damn. Make that my fourth Uber,” he said, tapping rapidly.

"A rideshare is unnecessary," Logan said. "I mean…” He looked at Remy and Roman, the other two drivers that night. “Surely between all of our cars we can fit both you and your materials comfortably."

"Are you…sure?" Lucas looked between them, Patton and Roman nodding vigorously.

“Absolutely!” Patton said.

"It would be unseemly to leave you waiting in the rain for an Uber that may never come,” Roman said, moving to his side and grabbing the handle of one of the pushcarts.

“It’s not raining anymore, Ro Bro,” Remus said. Roman either ignored his brother or successfully feigned a sudden and dramatic hearing failure.

"It… Well, the last three canceled when the drivers saw where the pick up was." He shrugged. “No-one wants to get off the highway just to get back on.”

"There you go. It's settled. Here, you can ride with me!" Roman said and began to roll the stack to his car.

"Hey, Ro, did you forget you're our—" The twins exchanged a look and Remus nodded. "Yeah, great idea!” he said and grabbed the other trolly. “Here, I'll help."

After a bit of wrangling, Roman evicted a bright green tote bag from his tiny trunk and, with effort, jammed in most of Lucas’ materials.

In the end, all that was left were the empty wheeled carts and Logan and Janus each took one. “These will fit nicely in my car,” he said.

“Will we fit, too?” Remus asked, smile bright.

“Oh! Yes, of course!” Logan nodded at him and Janus. “I should have made the invitation clear. Absolutely!”

Remy and Virgil exchanged a little smile, relief, probably, at not needing to rearrange their own seating. “We’ll all meet up at Dad’s?” Remy asked, taking Emile’s hand.

“Yeah, are you busy, Mr. H? We’re having a ‘surprise’ celebration back home,” he said, air quotes audible.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Lucas said to Logan.

Nodding excitedly, Roman made pleading eyes over his shoulder and mouthed, “He can come!”

Stifling a laugh, Logan nodded. “We’d love to have you.”

Enlivened by Remus and Patton happily celebrating his work to set up Roman and Lucas, the long walk back to Logan's car felt short.

Janus slid close and murmured, “It seems your son is a budding matchmaker.”

Watching Patton’s glee as he recounted Roman’s flirting, Logan couldn’t disagree. “It appears he is.”

They reached the car and Logan struggled to both retrieve his keys and hold one of the hand trucks.

"Here, lemme help you with that," Remus said, moving close and reaching for the handle.

"Thank you, but I will be fine,” Logan said automatically. Despite the slight chill of the evening, Remus’ hand was warm. “You've got your hands full yourself.”

"I've got two hands, after all," Remus winked at him.

Patton barked out a laugh, quickly covering his mouth.

“We both do,” Janus said, taking the hand truck from Logan’s grip and holding Remus’ other hand.

“They’re not wrong,” Patton said quietly behind him. Taking out his own key, Patton unlocked the car with a chirp. He popped the trunk and tucked both hand trucks into the cargo area. “I’ll drive!” he said and opened the passenger door next to them before he clambered into the driver’s seat.

Watching Patton carefully fasten his seat belt before adjusting the seat and the mirrors, Logan nodded approvingly. “Your lessons have paid off,” he hummed and climbed into the backseat, leaving the front passenger seat for either Remus or Janus.

Remus climbed into the back with him.

And Janus slid into the seat on Logan's other side. “Quite the matchmaker, indeed,” he murmured, leaning close to Logan as he buckled his seat belt.

Patton started the engine, then grinned at him in the rear view mirror. “Everyone ready?”

Logan looked at Remus and then at Janus. Each met his eyes and nodded. Remus' hand grazed his knee.

…It’s the best possible time to be alive, when almost everything you thought you knew was wrong. Crack open the door and step through!

Heart racing, Logan nodded back at his son’s reflection. “Yes,” he said.

"Ready."

Author's Note: And the story is finally complete. This tale needed more room than I'd originally anticipated to say everything it needed. And, even in the epilogue, there's plenty more life for all of them to lead. (And, yes, we'll see this trio again at @intruloceitweek in October. This is just the beginning for them, after all.)

#sanders sides #sasi #tss #sanders sides fanfiction #logan sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #intruloceit #intrulogical #logince #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remy sanders #emile picani #On a Butterfly's Wing #Happily Ever After #The Uses of Adversity #Overruled

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