#remus and janus use the lace code

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Code Words: Bacon?

Hi, I absolutely loved your CodeWords fic! It had a good conclusion, but if you were to continue that verse I would definitely read it. Like if it was something like Roman and Janus go on a new mission/adventure or just some fluffy bonding with the agents we love in this fic. – creativia10

Read on Ao3 Masterlist

Warnings: nightmare, sleep paralysis, aliens/monsters

Pairings: none

Word Count: 5008

In an epilogue of sorts to the main story, Janus and Remus show Roman one of the training simulations.

    The worst part about waking up from a nightmare is how truly exhausted his body is.

Roman winces, still staring at the ceiling as he struggles to convince the dead weight that should be his limbs to at least move a little bit. But no matter what he tries, they refuse to do so much as twitch, thrumming with the same bone-weary ache that comes from being put through the Blender; when he first started training at the higher agents' level, they introduced him to the obstacle course that would serve as his qualifier. He almost ended up permanently paralyzed the first time something came at him too fast, and spent the next six months in various stages of pain and suffering until he was finally able to put the fucking thing in the rearview mirror.

Come on, you assholes, he bargains with his limbs as he just manages to roll from his side to his back, just let me fucking move!

But they don't, and so he doesn't.

Closing his eyes to muster up the courage to shift again only serves to reinvigorate the horrors living on the insides of his eyelids. He wrenches them open again, trying doggedly to stay awake until he can convince his body to move. The dark of his room presses closer as he tries to move just enough to where he's not actively restrained by his own stupid limbs.

The ball of fear in his chest doesn't deflate.

His fingers wiggle on one hand, then the other. Bit by bit, he reclaims the use of his arms, but that doesn't mean shit if his lower body won't get with the fucking program. He wriggles around for a bit like a truly pathetic worm until he can flop himself over to the bedside table and grope for his phone.

Logan picks up on the third ring.

"Roman? Little one, is everything alright?"

"How the fuck do you sound this 'wake right now?" he slurs against the wave of relief that threatens to send him back to the bed.

"It's a skill, I'm afraid, but what's the matter?"

The obvious concern lacing his words strikes Roman's chest. "I…it's stupid."

"It's gotten you to call me in the middle of the night," Logan corrects gently, "that's not nothing."

"It's just—never mind."

"Roman," Logan says, a touch firmer this time, "tell me what's the matter."

And suddenly he's eight years old again, in a room that's too big and too small, and he mumbles: "I had a nightmare."

"Oh, little one, I'm sorry to hear that. Would you like me to come over?"

His heart leaps. "You…you would?"

Logan's quiet for a moment before he sighs. "Roman, perhaps I haven't made myself clear over the past few months, but there is very little that I would not do to ensure your comfort. If having me there with you will help in this moment, then that is what I shall do."

"Okay," Roman mumbles around the lump in his throat, "I…um…can you come, please?"

"I'll be right there."

True to his word, it feels like scarcely any time at all before there's a soft knock on his door and Roman's fumbling to pull up the app on his phone to check that it's Logan and let him in. The door swings open with Logan's soft hello, it's only me, and then he's appearing from around the corner—

Roman blinks at the flannel shirt and pants as Logan comes to sit on the edge of the bed. He notices the look and the corner of his mouth quirks up.

"Never thought you'd see me in pajamas, did you?"

"To be honest, I don't think I really believed you sleep."

"Of course not, this is part of my ruse," Logan says immediately, gesturing to himself, "I'm told that most normal humans wear specific 'bed clothes' when they go unconscious, apparently it's quite the intricate ritual."

Roman manages a weak laugh and Logan chuckles too, before his voice gentles and he shifts a little closer.

"What can I do for you, little one," he asks too softly for Roman to keep the whimper inside his chest, "what do you need?"

"Can I have a hug?"

"Of course you can, come here," he murmurs and leans forward to tuck Roman into his arms. The smell of pine and cedar wafts into his nose as he buries his head in Logan's shoulder, clutching the back of his shirt. "There, is that alright?"

He nods and Logan hums, shifting a little bit so there's less of a strain on Roman's still non-functioning legs. The phantom pain still thuds in the back of his brain like a too-loud stereo system, making him whimper again and try to burrow closer to Logan. One of his hands rests at the small of Roman's back as his head turns.

"Are you hurting, little one?"

"'S just phantom pain."

"That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

He shifts a little more. "…yeah, it hurts a little. But I don't want pain meds," he says when Logan goes to pull away, "just—stay?"

Logan stops, to his credit, but he can feel the frown over his shoulder. "Why not, if I may ask?"

"It's more psychological than physical, at least that's what the doctor said. If I try and medicate it away, it makes it…it makes it worse the next time."

"Is there anything that does help?"

"Well, moving them helps, but I'm currently very stuck, so…"

Logan pulls back again, just enough to cup Roman's head so they can look at each other in the half-dark. "Do you want help?"

He opens and closes his mouth a few times. Something works at Logan's forehead before he makes Roman look at him properly.

"I am offering to help you because I care about you," he says, gently yet firmly, "and you are in pain and I wish to help you. This is not a trap, this is not something I will hold against you in the future. You are my charge and I will care for you as best I can."

"I know," Roman nearly whines, "I do, I promise, I just—my brain just fucking sucks."

"Hush, now," Logan soothes when Roman's fists clench, "it's alright, I know it's hard."

"Why is this so hard?"

"Brains are very good at pattern recognition," he explains, stroking his fingers through the hair at the back of Roman's head, "and it is very difficult for them to unlearn them. The brain acts as a muscle with a reflex; if it gets very used to doing something as a reaction to certain stimuli, it will continue to react in the same way until it is unlearned."

"You're too eloquent for this time of night," Roman mumbles, halfheartedly swatting his shoulder, "small-word me."

"I thought those were small words."

"Smaller words. Two syllables only."

Logan sighs in that fondly exasperated way but nods. "The brain is like a muscle."

"Okay."

"Muscles can have a reflex."

"Okay."

"It's very hard to stop a reflex."

"That's stupid."

"Well, I would argue that having reflexes at all is one of the evolutionary advantages that humans—" Roman glares at him and he cuts himself off with a sheepish cough— "the point I'm trying to make is that it's not your fault that you're having a difficult time, little one. You can be a little kinder to yourself over it."

"But that's hard."

"I know, little one, I know." He chucks Roman lightly under the chin. "But a good way to start is by letting others be kind to you."

"I don't have the brain to keep up with you in a debate right now," he says weakly, to which Logan only chuckles, "okay, okay, fine, you can help me."

Logan leans forward to kiss his forehead, which he swears he did on purpose so that Roman's hands would stutter and let him go long enough to slide further down the bed. "Can I take the covers off?"

"Mhm." Only for him to wince at how cold his legs feel, which only worsens the pain. "It's cold."

"I know, little one, I'm here to help. I'm going to walk you through a few physical therapy exercises that Medical had me do in the past, okay?"

"How are you gonna walk me through them when my legs don't work?"

Logan gives him a look and scribbles his fingers across Roman's right foot. Roman yelps, betrayed, and jerks his foot slightly away.

"Well," Logan says, slightly smug, "I think that's a promising start, don't you?"

"If you're just going to tickle me and call it 'helping,' then—"

"I won't," he says, softening immediately when he sees Roman's shoulders hunch, "I'm sorry, little one, that was mean."

"Yes, it was."

"I'm sorry." He takes Roman's ankle gently in hand. "I'll make it up to you, you have my word."

Slowly, Logan starts to bend and straighten Roman's leg, rotating his foot around his ankle, moving up to stretch out his hip too. He does the same with the other leg, working slowly and carefully so as not to strain his muscles. The ache ebbs and flows as Logan moves, still tingling in the very recesses of his brain as his legs slowly start to feel like legs and not useless sacks attached to him. Still, his breath hitches a few times when the pain decides to throb and Logan always stills, lowering his leg back to bed and waiting for Roman to nod that it's okay again.

"You're doing so well," he murmurs as he works, "so well."

"Thank you," Roman mumbles when he can actually move his legs a little bit again, "that's better."

Logan hums, sitting back near Roman's headboard again. When Roman leans closer, he lifts his arm and gathers him back in for a cuddle, kissing his temple and helping to tug the covers back over him. "Are you still cold?"

"Not really."

"That's good." His fingers card through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

"No."

"Alright."

"Wait, really?"

"I'm here for you, little one, if something I suggest will not help you, there is absolutely no obligation for you to do it."

"Why are you being like this now," Roman can't help but whisper, "you were so—so—so not this for so long, why are you doing this now?"

His head goes up and down as Logan sighs. "Believe me, little one, you have no idea how much I wish I could go back and change some of the things I've done, or how I chose to train you. I—in my own arrogance, I couldn't, or refused to see past yours, to see how hard you really were trying just to keep your head above water."

There's a pause, then Logan turns his head and his breath warms Roman's forehead.

"I thought I knew what was best for you," he says, a tremble in his voice, "and I helped deliver you to the hands of a monster. And for that, I will never forgive myself."

The words shoot a pang through Roman's chest. "Logan, you…you can't blame yourself for that."

"I can and I do, Roman. It was my job to make sure you were safe here, because that is the responsibility of a mentor, and I did not want—or perhaps I was just unwilling to admit that I didn't feel qualified to help you. I am aware," he says when Roman starts to say something, "that Michael was incredibly good at his job. I am aware that I cannot blame myself for the actions of others. But…look at me, little one."

Roman does and balks at the sight of Logan's tears. "Logan—"

"It was my fault that I was not honest with you that I didn't know how to help you," he says, his voice still remarkably clear, "and that I never made any effort to make sure that you knew that I was here to support you, no matter what."

And fuck it, Roman's crying now.

He throws himself at Logan's chest and Logan catches him, holding him as tightly as he can as he murmurs nonsense into Roman's hair. And maybe this really is better than he ever could have hoped for, because as Logan eventually coaxes him to lie back against the headboard, he clings to the flannel shirt with all his might and Logan comes with him, lying partly over him as though he's another blanket to shield him from the world.

There are far worse fates.

But tears have to run dry eventually because the human body has its limits, and when Roman sags against Logan's hold, he moves just enough to ensure Roman can still snuggle into his side and lies next to him. It's a different sort of exhaustion now, one that seeps far more into his chest and stomach than his limbs. He keeps a loose grip on Logan's sleeve as he nuzzles into the crook of his shoulder.

"Better?"

"Mhm."

"I'm glad." His hand cards through his hair again. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

There's a pause. Then: "Can you see if Janus is awake too?"

He can tell he's surprised him by the way Logan's hand falters, but after a moment he murmurs an affirmative and pulls away. Roman lets his eyes slip closed as the bright light from the screen illuminates the side of the bed. After another moment, he hears the telltale buzz of the phone beginning to ring and frowns. Logan shrugs—with the shoulder he isn't leaning on—and answers the call.

"You're on speaker, Janus, and Roman's here."

"Hey, sweetie," comes Janus's voice, "I heard you had a nightmare, are you okay?"

"Yeah," he mumbles, burying into Logan's side, "just…wanted to see if you were okay too."

"I'm alright, sweetie, I'm fine." They hear a muffled voice and Janus sighs. "Look, I'm going to put you on speaker too so Remus doesn't have to act as a cartoon Greek chorus."

Roman snickers as there's a fumbling from Janus's end of the call and then a clunk as the phone must be set down on the table.

"Can you still hear me?"

"Yeah. Hi, Remus."

"Hey, squirt. Welcome to the cool kid's club of not being able to sleep at night."

"Remus," he hears Janus scold, followed by a soft thwap and a muffled yelp, "ignore him, sweetie, he's a terrible influence."

"Okay, one of us started sneaking out of the dorms way earlier than the other, and I'll have you know that your disciplinary record starts much earlier than mine."

"Yeah, well, one of us had to go figure out how to mop up a bunch of green slime because the other one was laughing too hard to be useful to anyone, so there."

"And you know, I've never once heard you say thank you."

"For dousing me in green slime? No, you haven't, and you won't, because that's not something I would thank you for."

Roman chuckles as the two of them keep bickering, his eyes growing heavier and heavier. Logan sets the phone on the bed so he can still hear them, before coaxing Roman to lie back down properly. He drifts off to sleep with the three voices in his ear, laughing about some prank that had gone hilariously wrong.

***

    "I think he's asleep," Logan says over the phone and Janus immediately lowers his voice.

"Is he alright?"

"Exhausted, by the looks of it, and probably more than a little affected by some of the phantom pain still, but he's alright."

Remus grunts, taking another swig of his drink. "Has he had his follow-up with Psych yet?"

"It's at the end of the week."

"They really fucked him over with their booking shit, huh." He drums his fingers on the table. "Is he booked the rest of the week too?"

"No, not as far as I know."

"Might do him some good to get out and moving," Remus suggests, glancing at Janus, "just so he's not sitting in it."

"We have a sim mod coming up," Janus agrees, "it would be nice to do with a team."

"Why don't I see if Roman's up to breakfast with you two again tomorrow," Logan suggests, "then you can ask him?"

"Yeah, that works. Are you going to stay with him?"

"Yes. Don't worry, I'll look after him."

"Thanks, Logan." He hangs up and scrubs a hand over his face. "Well, we should probably get some sleep, then, huh?"

Remus huffs and finishes his drink. "Yeah, probably. Poor kid."

"Yeah."

"Nope," Remus says, pointing a finger at him, "none of that self-deprecating shit. Get that out of here. We've all been over this, now knock it off or I'll come in there with a crowbar."

Janus chuckles and waves him off, getting up slowly from the table and making his way over to the bed. After a moment, he feels the other side of the mattress sag as Remus joins him.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he sighs, "just…you know."

"Yeah." The mattress shifts as Remus rolls onto his side. "You should probably change into something more comfortable to sleep in."

"So should you."

And so, neither of them moves, and they wake up the next morning with slightly bizarre marks from sleeping on things that aren't meant to be slept on, but they clean themselves up and go to meet Logan and Roman at the nearby diner. Roman looks a little tired when he sits in the booth, but he visibly brightens when he sees them walk in and scoots over to make room for Remus to sit next to him.

"Hey, squirt," Remus greets, ruffling his hair until Roman squawks, "what're you having?"

"Bacon, hashbrowns, pancakes. You?"

"That sounds great to me, I'll steal your bacon to go with my omelet."

"Hey!"

Remus winks as Janus rolls his eyes. "Ignore him, sweetie, he'll steal mine instead."

"Look, it's your own fault if you leave the plate right next to mine."

"Or you could order your own and we wouldn't have to deal with this." Remus swats a hand dismissively. "Fine, you can have my bacon, then—"

"Deal."

"—if you promise to give me the long-range flashlight in the sim later," he finishes smugly and watches Remus glare at him, "do we have a deal?"

"I'll order my own damn bacon, keep your paws off my flashlight."

"What flashlight?" Roman stage-whispers to Logan who shakes his head.

"They're talking about a combat training simulation. It's meant to help you refine your stealth skills, though from the sounds of it…"

"We don't use it the way you're supposed to use it," Janus confesses, "we use it to goof off and have fun."

Roman's eyes widen and Remus cackles. "Oh, yeah, we use it to practice stealth, alright, just not the kind they wanted us to."

"Wait, wait, wait, what kind is that?"

"Well, there's the leave-no-bodies-for-the-guards-to-notice stealth, and there's the leave-no-guards-to-notice-the-bodies stealth," Remus explains with a grin, "there's also the who-cares-fuck-it-we-ball stealth, which is my personal favorite."

"And also the least stealthy, look at that." Remus sticks his tongue out at him. "It's meant to be done in teams of four, but Remus and I normally do it just by ourselves."

"Since everyone else gets on our asses about 'not doing it right,' whatever that means."

"If you wanted," Janus continues, smiling as Roman laughs at Remus's disgusted expression, "you and Logan could do it with us. It doesn't count for anything, it's not something you're going to be tested on, it's just for fun."

Roman glances at Logan, who shrugs, before looking back at him. "Yeah, sure. Can we, um, can we eat first?"

"Sweetie, I'm not letting Remus near any sim until he's got at least three cups of coffee in him."

"Yeah, yeah, it was one time."

"Wait, what happened?"

Janus raises an eyebrow at Remus who groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look, you mistake an old broom handle for a combat shotgun one time…"

They trade ridiculous stories throughout breakfast until Roman's grinning more than he is frowning. They walk back to the base two by two, Janus walking with Roman as Remus and Logan debate the technicalities of one specification that Janus apparently never bothered to look up. About halfway there, Roman shyly asks if he can hold on to Janus's sleeve and Janus simply tucks Roman's hand in his until they're all the way at the sim room.

"Alright," Remus says, snapping into a somewhat professional manner—at least as close as he gets when he's not on mission— "so the way this works is we're going to be dropped into an abandoned complex. There are going to be clickers in there—those are weird alien-looking motherfuckers that react to light and sound. We will be given something to accomplish while we're in there and we have to do and then make it to the extraction point. Very similar to a lot of video games except this one you actually get to fuck around in."

"How do we deal with the clickers?"

"You can bash 'em over the head with a hammer," Remus continues, taking one of the big melee hammers off the wall, "you can stab 'em with a spear or a knife, or you can shoot them. Shooting them will make noise and wake any others up that are in the area, so only do that as a last resort or if a bunch of them are running at you. There will be alarms inside as well, which will wake a bunch of them up, so that is the time to shoot."

"Are those our only choice of weapon?"

Janus catches Logan beaming with pride as Roman asks all the right questions as Remus walks him through gearing up, leaning close when the two of them have a moment.

"He's an incredible agent, Logan."

"I know," Logan murmurs back, "I can't wait for when he gets to run a sim like this solo."

"Oh, those two are going to be insufferable once Roman gets good at this, I know it."

"Oi, you two! Stop gossiping and get over here, we're ready for the drop."

Janus walks over as Remus secures Roman into the first of the drop pods, ruffling his hair again as Roman gives him the okay. He does Janus next, securing him in before making sure Logan's gear is all good to go.

"He's good at this," Roman mumbles and Janus glances over, "is he, like, is this his sim?"

"It might as well be, he runs it a lot even solo, which is meant to be impossible. He has fun with it, but he'll behave since it's your first run." Roman nods and reaches out. Janus squeezes his hand. "And if at any point you decide you're done, we'll end it. I promise."

The corner of Roman's mouth quirks up. "Should we have a code word that means we're done?"

"Sure," Janus chuckles, "what do should it be?"

Roman thinks for a moment, then smiles. "What about 'I want some bacon?'"

Janus laughs so loudly Remus looks over at him with a frown. He waves him off and nods at Roman. "That's perfect, sweetie."

"You have to use it too, if it gets too much."

"I will, don't you worry."

"Alright," Remus calls, clicking himself into a drop pod too, "let's do this shit."

The room's lights turn low and the drop pods begin to lower slowly into the simulation room proper. As soon as they emerge beneath the floor, Janus squints through the musty gloom of an old industrial prison complex, lit with flickering faraway lights and the eerie glow of something not-quite biological growing along some of the walls. The pods land and disengage with a soft hiss and immediately Remus is out, prowling along the floor until he's scanned their immediate area, returning to the group and beckoning them closer.

"Comm check," he says quietly and they all confirm their lines, "alright. On your wrist there's a map that shows how much of the place we've found. It also has the objective in the corner."

"We need to find the…stasis unit?" Roman glances around. "What does it look like?"

"We need to find a terminal and query it to figure out exactly what we're looking for. Janus and I have sentry turrets," he says, motioning to Janus, "those'll be helpful when we have to deal with alarms. Their fire isn't live, per se, but it will hurt you, so stay out of their range as much as possible when the clickers come. Logan, you've got the gooey globby stuff that slows 'em down, so we'll gum up the floors and doors if we need to. Roman? You've got the scanner."

Roman immediately checks the thing on his belt, squinting at the screen and turning slowly to get his bearings. "This says there's one about five meters that way."

"Any others?"

"Not that I can see."

"Alright, keep your eyes on that. We're gonna go look for a terminal first, okay?"

"We're following," Logan says, taking out his knife and a flashlight, "lead the way."

Remus glances at Janus and he nods, taking the rear position behind Logan. Roman follows Remus, calling out markers when they appear on the scanner. Remus navigates them through the dark halls until they come across an intersection where Roman says there's one right in front of them.

"You can see it, be quiet now, over there," Remus mutters, gesturing, "there, see?"

"Oh, fuck, that's horrifying. Wait, what are you doing?" he hisses when Remus flashes his light at it and it burbles. "I thought you said they were attracted to light and sound!"

"It's a duration thing more than a disturbance thing. You can flash and get away with seeing what's in the room without waking them up. If you ever think you're in trouble, crouch, don't move, you'll be fine."

"Okay."

"You wanna kill this one?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, it's on its own, the rest of us are right here, go on, squirt, you got this."

Despite Remus's assurances, Janus feels as nervous as he's sure Roman does, watching him reach for the massive hammer on his back and slowly approaching the clicker. His footsteps are near-silent, his breathing over the comms is a little heavy, but even. The clicker burbles as Roman gets right up next to it, then the hammer swings—

"Nice one, squirt," Remus says as the clicker falls to the ground, limp, "good job."

"That's it?"

"Yep. Now it does make some noise, so you gotta be a little careful, but for the most part, yeah, keep doing that and you're golden."

He catches a glimpse of Roman's proud little smile as they keep going. Sure enough, the rest of the sim runs pretty smoothly. Roman keeps up the work with the scanner, Logan can type faster than literally anyone he's ever run this sim with before, and Remus behaves. For the most part. There is one time where he goes to scout alone without them and they hear him muttering over the comms.

"I should not have committed to walking into this room by myself."

"You need some help?"

"Nah, nah, I got this. Ooh," they hear a moment later, "I have even more friends over here, awesome."

"If they react to light and sound," Roman whispers to Janus even though they're all on the same comms, "why is he talking?"

"Because he's Remus, sweetie, he does that."

"Hah, take that, you absolute pile of ballsacks," they hear a moment later before Remus reemerges, "okay, we're all good, we can go in there now."

Roman just gives him a look before looking down at the scanner and frowning. "Wait, what does a moving orange thing mean?"

Remus doesn't stiffen, but Janus can see the way his hands twitch on his flashlight. "Let me see?"

Roman holds it out and he sighs.

"That's a scout."

"What's a scout?"

"It moves around and has these long tentacle things that can detect stuff. Basically it's a huge fucking headache to deal with because it can sound alarms and draw a whole bunch of stuff to us."

"Uh-huh. Uh, so it's probably a bad thing that it's in the room we have to go in, right?"

"Yeah, it's not great, but we'll make it work. Stay close, everyone," Remus says as they head for the next door, "alright, let's do this."

Janus finds himself agreeing entirely with Roman's noise of disgust when he sees the scout for the first time, tentacles and all. Remus shepherds them around the very edge of the room, out of the way of most of the tentacles, until they're almost as the next door. Which, of course, is when the thing decides to turn and move straight for them.

"Can it see us?"

"No," Remus mutters, "only the light like the others."

"Can we kill it?"

"Not while its tentacles are out. Hey, what are you—"

Janus's heart leaps to his throat as Roman moves straight for it. "Roman!"

"I got this," Roman mutters, before he swings the hammer just as the scout starts to—

His eyes widen when the scout falls over, dead, and the complex is silent.

"Well," Remus says faintly, getting up as Roman scans the rest of the room, "you and I are going to have a lot of fun in some of the later levels."

"There are more levels?"

Janus can feel Remus grin as he claps Roman on the shoulder. "Oh, squirt, you ain't seen nothing yet."

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[ssidesblog]

frame the halves and call them brothers

remus centric, 2,935 wc, ao3

remus meets janus, who proceeds to psychoanalyze him (and virgil is exhausted)

Remus did not wake up early. Or rather, he didn’t like waking up early, not usually. But that morning, Remus woke up with an excited buzz despite the fact he was awake before 8am on a Saturday. He rushed to get dressed, slipping on a flannel that was two sizes too big and had rips in the wrong places, a pair of black pants (the ones Patton loved to describe as his church pants since they were so ‘holey’), and his pair of blue ladder laced Doc Martens. Looking at himself in the mirror he couldn’t help but grin. Contrary to popular belief, Remus took a great deal of pride in his appearance, and to him, looking like the definition of the word ‘punk’ made him very content and happy. 

His mom sat at the kitchen table, already in her uniform for one of her jobs. Remus walked over to her and bent down to plant a kiss on her cheek. 

“Good morning, sweetheart.” She greeted him. 

“Morning.” He replied with a smile that showed off his chipped tooth. 

“You’re extra excitable this morning.” She commented and stood from her seat. 

“What can I say, I love facing the consequences of my actions.” Remus said, opening a granola bar and following his mom to the front door. She rolled her eyes with a chuckle and grabbed her keys from the hook by the door.  The ride to the school was quiet. Remus knew she was still pissed at him, even more so at Virgil and was not excited for him to be around the kid who beat him up. They pulled up to the school and just as Remus opened the door to leave she spoke. 

“Please behave yourself, mijo.”  She sounded exhausted and looked the part as well. Remus’s stomach knotted when he realized just how tired her whole existence was. He nodded, not trusting himself to talk, and left the car. He watched her pull away with a sort of sadness. He quickly shook away whatever he was feeling and entered the high school. He walked into the gym where Mr. Young was waiting along with a few other students. Remus noted he didn’t see Virgil, meaning he was early to something for once. He sat down on the bleachers and shortly after Virgil walked in with someone Remus vaguely recognized from a few of his classes. The two walked over to Remus. 

“I just don’t understand how you can be stupid enough to also get detention.” Virgil said to the kid next to him. 

“I don’t think it’s fair,” The other person spoke, “Writing on the bathroom stalls shouldn’t result in this kind of punishment.” 

“You wrote ‘fuck 12’, Janus, what the hell did you think would happen?” Virgil asked incredulously. 

“Well I didn’t think I would get caught.” The kid, Janus, replied in a grumble. 

“You making fun of me for being a wannabe punk when your boyfriend acts like that is kinda fucked up, Hot Topic.” Remus said, inserting himself into the conversation. Virgil gagged while the other kid made a face of pure disgust.

“Never say that ever again, we’re brothers.” Virgil said. 

“Oh, fuck, sorry I couldn’t really tell,” Remus said looking from one to the other, “I’m guessing you’re step brothers or something?” 

“Actually, we’re twins, I just happened to get all the melanin,” Janus stated and then gestured to the left side of his face where splotches of pale skin stood in a contrast to the rest of his dark complexion, “Virge did have some kind of influence though.” 

 Remus nodded in understanding and Virgil looked at him with a scrutinizing gaze. 

“Please tell me you don’t actually believe that.” Virgil spoke in a desperate tone. Remus laughed a little too hard. 

“I know I’m dumb but I’m not stupid.” Remus said. Virgil put his head in his hands and mumbled something Remus interpreted as ‘I want to go home’. He lifted his head and looked from Janus to Remus. He leaned closer to Remus and lowered his voice. 

“My brother kinda hates you for punching me.” 

“It’s ok,” Remus spoke in a similar hushed tone, “My brother hates me for punching you, too.” Virgil raised his eyebrow but didn’t question any further, to which Remus was thankful. Roman wasn’t a fun topic to talk about unless Remus was making fun of him and right now, even thinking about him was making him upset. 

“Ok, kids,” Mr. Young addressed the less than 10 people in the room, “Each of you will be cleaning up the campus. We have proctors all around campus so don’t do anything that will get you into even more trouble. Come grab a trash bag and gloves and hop to it.” He gestured to the pile of garbage bags and boxes of gloves. Each of the kids shuffled over and grabbed their supplies. 

Once they were outside, Remus, Virgil, and Janus stuck together and picked up the same area in relative silence. Remus bent down to pick up a half eaten sandwich when he noticed Janus’s shoes; blue ladder laced Doc Martens. He grinned and fully stood up. 

“You killed a cop, too?” Remus practically shouted the question and gained the attention of the two boys, along with a few bewildered looks from surrounding students. 

“Excuse me?!” Virgil asked, his voice going up an octave or two. Janus looked down at Remus’s boots and then his own, a knowing look on his face. 

“Seeing as how this little shit,” Janus nodded in the direction of Virgil, “Beat the fuck out of you, I seriously doubt you killed a cop.” Remus barked out a laugh. 

“Half-pint has some moves you wouldn’t believe.” Remus pointed to his tooth and Janus moved closer to get a better look. 

“The little raccoon did that?” He asked with amusement in his voice. Remus nodded. 

“He pulled my head back and smashed my face into the ground,” Remus recounted the moment with a sense of nostalgia in his voice, “My mouth just so happened to be open.” 

“You don’t sound angry about it.” 

“Because I’m not,” The grin in his voice was evident, “I’ve always wanted to get into a fight and now I have a way of remembering it.” Janus gave a small smile and Remus counted that as a win. 

“Is your nose ok?” Virgil asked. 

“It’s fine, kid, no need to feel guilty.” Remus reassured him. It was feeling a whole lot better than the day before, the bruising made it look a lot worse than it felt. 

“I still can’t believe you did that, bub.” Janus spoke with pride as he ruffled Virgil’s hair, “I raised you well.” 

“You’re barley even a year older than me shut the fuck up.” Virgil’s voice didn’t actually hold any malice. 

“Oh, you’re older than us?” Remus asked, adding, “I could have sworn I’ve seen you in some of my classes.” 

“Oh, no me and you are the same age,” Janus said with a shit eating grin on his face, “V here skipped a grade so he’s a little baby.” Janus had turned on his baby voice and squished Virgil’s face. 

“Get the fuck away from me.” Virgil said and swatted his hands away. 

“Awww, little piss baby.” Remus cooed. 

“I hate both of you so much.” Virgil said, giving each of them a pointed look. 

“You know you love me.” Janus said and wrapped his arms around his younger brother, swaying a little from side to side. Virgil mumbled something into his shirt that made Janus chuckle. Remus watched them and felt a little part of his chest ache. 

“You’re not so bad, Remus.” Janus said, letting go of Virgil. 

“I’m all sorts of bad, but I appreciate it.” Remus said. 

They finished cleaning with a lot more talking and joking around. Remus felt happy having people to interact with who were brand new to his life. It was like a breath of fresh air. Once they were dismissed, Remus walked to the front of the school with the two brothers. 

“Do you wanna go over to the gas station?” Janus asked him. 

“I don’t have any money on me.” Remus said, shifting on his feet. 

“Don’t worry about it, V can buy you a slushie.” Janus said, already walking in the direction of the nearby 7/11. 

“Why do I have to buy it?” 

“You’re the one who beat the shit out of him, it’s the least you can do.” Janus said and winked to Remus. He snorted. Janus looked over at him and squinted, searching for something in his face. 

“I’m flattered, really, but it’s awfully rude to stare.” Remus said. 

“You look familiar.” Janus mumbled. Then his face lit up, “You do theatre, right?” Remus groaned. 

“No, that’s my brother.” He couldn’t help the disgust evident in his voice. 

“Oh, are you two twins?” He asked. 

“Sadly, yes.” Remus responded. 

“You don’t seem very fond of him.” Remus bit the inside of his cheek. 

“We just have a complicated history.” He said. Virgil and Janus both raised an eyebrow and maybe Janus’s joke about them being twins wasn’t too far off. 

“Aren’t twins supposed to be, like, super close and shit?” Virgil asked. 

“Virgil.” Janus said his name like a warning. 

“No, it’s fine, Roman and I are just,” Remus paused to think of a way to describe their dichotomy, “different. He’s the golden boy and I’m clearly not.” Remus said and gestured to himself. 

“Comparison creates a divide and causes nothing but harm.” Janus told him. 

“That’s the thing,” Remus was starting to get angry, “I was never the one to start comparing. It was our dad who always favored Roman. Roman who does nothing for himself; he people pleases and has no sense of an actual identity. But because he can follow the rules he’s the good twin.” Remus hit the crosswalk button harder than necessary. 

“You seem a lot more interesting.” Virgil said 

“Agreed.” Remus gritted through his teeth. 

“So then, why are you jealous of him?” Janus asked. Remus turned to him. 

“I’m not jealous of him.” 

“Yes you are.” He stated

“Janus likes to psychoanalyze everyone.” Virgil informed Remus. The crosswalk flashed the little picture of the man walking and the three boys imitated the motion.

 Remus thought about what Janus said as the two boys started a conversation of their own. Was he jealous of Roman? There was no way. Roman was self absorbed and egotistical, but only on surface level. He and Roman may not get along too well but they knew each other like the back of their hand. Remus knew how insecure Roman was, always scared of losing his good image, letting himself hide away parts of himself to look less weird. Remus was happier, Remus was unabashedly himself. So, why was he jealous of Roman?

“You ok, Rem?” Virgil asked, successfully gaining his attention. 

“Oh, uh, yeah I’m fine.” Remus responded. Virgil nodded and followed Janus inside the 7/11. Remus walked in after him. 

“What flavor do you want?” Virgil asked, grabbing a cup and a lid. 

“Mix the blue and the Coke.” Virgil made an audible noise of disgust but complied. He wandered over to the chip aisle and Remus went to the back where Janus looked at the cold drinks. 

“You never answered my question.” Janus spoke, not taking his eyes away from the energy drinks in front of him. 

“I don’t really have an answer for you, I don’t know why I am. If you asked my therapist it probably has something to do with my dad.” 

“That’s what all therapists say.” Janus opened the case and crouched down, picking up two cans of Monster. 

“I mean, they aren’t wrong, dads are just like that.” Remus accepted one of the cans. 

“I wouldn’t know, I grew up with two moms.” 

“That’s why you’re so put together, no trauma of having a father.” Remus said. Janus laughed and Remus decided it was one of the prettiest sounds he’d ever heard. 

“Why do you need a Monster if you also have a slushie?” Virgil asked, exasperated. 

“Extra energy.” He replied, handing him the drink. Virgil rolled his eyes and went up to the counter. 

“I don’t think Roman is as boring as you think.” Janus said. 

“You know him?” Remus asked. 

“I’ve spoken with him a few times, he’s very active in theatre and so am I.”

“So you knew I wasn’t him?” Remus asked. 

“He’s interesting in his own way,” Janus avoided Remus’s question, “I think you need to give him a chance.” 

“Easy for you to say, you and Virgil seem like perfect siblings.” Remus knew he sounded bratty but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“When I first met him, I absolutely hated him,” Janus started, “I was 11 and suddenly I had a younger brother. I was in a new home and the only familiar part of my life was my mom and even then she had split her time between me and Virgil. I didn’t want anything to do with him. I thought he was weird and too quiet. Poor kid just had anxiety and me and my mom moving in did nothing to help. I had to give him a chance and once I did, we found we were similar in our own ways, but more importantly, we were different. Now, I can’t imagine a life where he isn’t my brother.” Remus looked at Janus in awe. 

“Give Roman a chance, he may be completely different than you but what’s so bad about that?” Janus gave him a smile that on anyone else would look disingenuous but with him it was the most open expression Remus had ever seen on anyone. Remus could only nod. 

“Is J getting all philosophical on you?” Virgil joined Remus’s side as Janus went to pay, “I keep telling him not to do that to people. He’s so weird.” There was a smile on his face as he spoke, as if just the mention of his brother made him happy. 

“You’re one to talk.” Remus knocked Virgil’s shoulder with his own. 

“I know the kid who brought a worm into class, claiming it to be his pet is not lecturing me about being weird right now.” Virgil said and Remus laughed. 

“I forgot about that, I miss that little guy.”  Virgil rolled his eyes with a certain fondness in his expression. He handed Remus his drinks as Janus joined the two. They walked back to the front of the school to wait for Virgil and Janus’s mom. 

“It was nice meeting you, Remus, we should hang out again.” Janus said as a way of goodbye. Virgil waved and off the two boys were. Remus stood up and started his walk to his house. He didn’t live too far away and was at his house in less than 20 minutes. He entered the house and found Roman sitting in the living room, watching something on TV. 

“Didn’t detention get out like, an hour and a half ago?” Roman asked and eyed the slushie and can of Monster in his hand, a sort of sadness in his eyes. 

“I went to 7/11 with Emo and Janus.” He said and walked over to him. 

“You know Janus?” Roman asked in surprise. 

“I met him today, those two are actually brothers.” Remus laughed at Roman’s disbelieving expression. “I know, it’s a small world.” He handed Roman the Monster. He took it hesitantly. 

“I’m glad you had fun.” He said and opened the drink. They were quiet for a few minutes, Remus joining him on the couch and half paying attention to what Roman had put on the TV (it was Hannah Montana; he only watched that when he needed a distraction). 

“Why were you so mad when I got into that fight?” Remus finally asked. Roman chewed on his lip in thought before finally responding, voice soft. 

“Because I didn’t want you to get hurt. And I didn’t want you doing something you would regret and beat yourself up about later.” Remus felt a pang in his heart. 

“You saying you actually care about me?” Remus meant for it to come out as a joke, but the way his voice cracked and went quieter just made it sound pathetic. 

“Of course I care about you, you’re my brother.” 

Remus took in a deep breath and sipped from his drink. 

“I’m sorry.” He said after a pause. 

“Dude, are you ok?” Roman’s voice was filled with worry. Remus managed a breathy laugh. 

“Yeah, I am. Thank you for the concern, Ro,” Remus smiled at him, “It means a lot.” Remus kept his voice low so it wouldn’t crack, so it wouldn’t push pressure on his throat, so he wouldn’t cry. Roman nodded and turned back towards the TV. 

Remus knew it was going to be hard. Roman had always been this ideal his dad set for him, more of an idea than a person. And Remus thought, maybe, he’d always hold some kind of resentment towards him. But Janus was right. Roman was different in almost every way, but he was still himself. In the same way Remus was himself. Eventually, he would come to accept that, but for now, Remus was content watching Hannah Montana on their couch, on the verge of tears, Roman’s head somewhere else entirely. They were a collective mess of trauma but at the end of the day they were still brothers and Remus couldn’t imagine it any other way. 

[coconut-cluster]

happy late birthday virgil <3 (im sorry there’s no clear beginning, it’s midnight here and im tired aslkfjsfksjl)

--

Roman smiles at him, and it’s a small thing, soft and sad and knowing enough to make Virgil want to look away, turn to stare at the wall and preserve his flippant frown before it cracks. He doesn’t look away. “You can say you miss them, Virge.”

There’s a vise around his heart as they stare at each other for a moment. Roman’s smile doesn’t falter or fade, but after another minute of silence, he looks down at his own lap with a sigh - Virgil composes himself in the few seconds that follow, taking a deep breath, focusing on the flickering candle flame as Roman tugs gently at a loose thread on the embellishments near his cuffs. For a minute, they’re quiet. 

“I haven’t celebrated with Remus in years,” Roman says finally. His voice is quiet, faint like the flame before them, and Virgil doesn’t look at him just yet. “I don’t know when we stopped, exactly, but...” 

His eyebrows furrow, mouth scrunched to the side, part of his thinking face when something is more frustrating than he expected - whether it’s the remembering or the talking about it that he finds frustrating, Virgil isn’t sure, but he disregards it either way, shaking his head instead and moving swiftly along. “Whenever we started to grow apart, however long ago that was - Logan and Patton got the message, and Janus, too, I guess. We just didn’t do the little celebration that year. Haven’t done it since. 

“And I miss it.” The gold thread rips free of the embellishment, a lonely string that leaves another mangled end in its wake. Virgil’s eyes dart from the candle to the shine of Roman’s gilded sleeve as the prince’s shoulders fall, ever so slightly, and they both fall silent again. “I miss him every year.”

None of the Sides are used to talking about these things, the buried memories and regrets and icky feelings that crawl back when things are too quiet. They all have a habit to subdue them in whichever way they see fit - ignoring them, denying them, lying through their teeth until even they start to believe everything’s fine. Virgil’s, he supposes, are fairly obvious regardless (he’s never been good at staying quiet about the bad things), but he knows full well how carefully, how deliberately Roman has constructed a suit of armor to hide his own troubles: a shiny sash, a charming smile, a silly pose and that lilt to his voice that remind Virgil of a noble from some Shakespeare play he can’t name. He’s a character through and through - until he isn’t, and what’s left behind is just... Roman, with penitence and regret just like the rest of them. 

Roman has built a golden wall to keep things from view, and Virgil is sort of honored to be the one to see it chip. 

“I miss them,” he says quietly. Roman looks to him, eyebrows raised - his eyes shine, and Virgil can’t tell if it’s unshed tears or something proud for him (proud of him?). Maybe both. He wouldn’t mind both. “Remus used to bake these horrible cupcakes every year,” he continues, his frown quirking into the smallest rueful smile, “and I mean it, those cupcakes were a war crime - and every year, Jan would just roll his eyes and make a cake instead, and we’d all sit in the living room and watch a movie.

“We didn’t really do presents - not like you guys do, anyway. Remus just promised not to wreak havoc for the day, and Janus...” He picks at his own loose thread, the white end sticking up from one of his hoodie’s stitches. Roman scoots closer and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Material gifts were always temporary, I think that was his reason, so he liked to teach me random stuff instead. He showed me how to write in code one year, and how to lace shoes differently, and how to figure out someone’s tells when they lie.” A beat of silence, another tug at the loose thread. “He taught me how to sew.” 

And although he pulls, the thread doesn’t come loose; after a second, he just tucks it back into the stitch, securing the end beneath rows of unbroken string. He doesn’t look, but he can just see Roman’s tiny smile in the corner of his eye. “Sometimes it seemed like he spent the entire year learning something new for the next birthday, mine or Remus’, just to have something to teach us. He was like that about a lot of stuff, all the thinking ahead and planning things out like his life depended on it. Logan reminds me of him, when I think about it - they’re both stupidly dogmatic, I think, but they’re thoughtful, like a stuffy older brother or something.” 

Roman gives a little laugh at that. “Wow, you get two older brothers and I just get a twin?” he jokes, and despite the bittersweet weight of remembering, Virgil feels himself grin at last. “That seems unfair.”

“I’d offer to switch, but I don’t think I’d ever willingly trade Logan for Remus - no offense.” 

“Full offense taken. How dare you insult my bloodline.” 

“Does it count as bloodline if we’re just figments of Thomas’ imagination?”

“Oh Jesus,” Roman’s hand drops from his shoulder at last to shove him, and they’re both laughing as Virgil nearly kicks his cupcake over in the process, barely saved by a feigningly horrified prince. “Don’t give me an existential crisis on your birthday, we’re supposed to be enjoying the festivity of it all!” 

“Maybe I enjoy giving you an existential crisis, what then?”

“Then you’re just a bitter little bat of an imagination figment.”

“...Rude.” He sits back up, a smile still lighting up his face as he elbows Roman in the side. “Give me my cupcake. You look like a knock-off Hamlet holding it like that.” 

Roman glares through his own lingering laughter, but he hands the purple-wrapped cupcake to Virgil; the scowl dissipates as the anxious Side blows out the candle at last. 

“What’d you wish for?” he asks expectantly, eyes bright while Virgil plucks the candle from the dark purple icing and tosses it onto the paper plate in front of them. 

“I can’t tell you, dork.” Roman’s mouth makes a little o, like he’s genuinely humbled by the Rules of Birthday Candle Wishes, and Virgil resists the urge to laugh all over again. “Although I guess it doesn’t matter - this is my second candle today, since Patton put one on the cake earlier. I doubt I get two wishes for one birthday.”

“Oh, you’re right... but maybe it just makes your first wish stronger! Or makes it come to fruition faster, something like that.” He shifts to sit cross-legged, propping his chin in one palm to blink expectantly at Virgil, who is still trying to peel the wrapper off his cupcake without getting icing all over his hands. “What do you think, Virge? Has your first wish come true already?” 

And for a second, Virgil pauses. 

He hadn’t technically wished for anything. He never did - he wasn’t good at thinking on the spot, and he definitely wasn’t good asking for things, even from some abstract force associated with little stripey sticks of wax that got stuffed into cake once a year. He just kind of stared at his cake for a minute, looked pensive, and blew out the candle. 

But he thinks, looking back, he would have wished for something like this. Something quiet, and comfortable, something to make him feel light against the reminiscence on his shoulders - and even if he’d never have expected it to be with Princey this time last year, he’s happy for it now. Maybe next year, he’ll wish for another surprise like this. (Maybe he’d wish to learn something new next year, if someone will teach him again. Just maybe.) 

“You know,” he says, and returns Roman’s smile in full, “I think it has.” 

[nightashes]

The Alliance Sucks, the Rebellion’s Not Much Better, but at Least We Have Each Other

A/N: Yes. I know it’s a crazy long title. Fight me. Shortened title: At Least We Have Each Other. Longer title: the alliance sucks, the rebellion’s not much better, but at least we have each other (and some guns). This is a discord gift for @sometimes-love-is-enough. I hope you enjoy! This is the longest one-shot I have written so far! woot woot!

Summary: Being a criminal in space is difficult. Being a criminal in space that just pulled a job on a government facility is worse. Being a criminal in space that just pulled a job on a government facility and somehow picked up a stowaway is a recipe for disaster. Luckily this crew specializes in disasters. 

Meet the Crew:

Janus: the Captain. He can demand respect and obedience with nothing more than a glare.

Virgil: the pilot and emergency medic.. He’s no doctor but he’s gotten the crew through a fair amount of scrapes.

Roman: the second-in-command. He helps Virgil out in navigation and generally makes sure the ship runs smoothly and is always fully stocked with everything they could possibly need.

Remus: he’s the muscle and he makes sure the ship never remains stocked.

And of course Patton: the engineer. Without him this ship would be nothing more than a crappy piece of modern art.

Warnings: an assortment of weapons, a kid with a gun, blood, violence, explosions, almost major character death

writing masterlist - ao3 version

***

The thrum of the engine was a constant backdrop. It was the hiss of a living breathing machine. More than a sound, the vibrations were a blanket laid over them, an understanding of protection. The engine was awake and they were finally on the move. As long as they were moving, they were safe. Janus walked along the corridor, his gloved hand passing over the metal walls, feeling the buzz of the engine beneath his fingertips. He quirked a smile. 

In the distance he could hear the shouts of his crew, arguing passionately. It seemed there was always something to argue about with them and Janus hardly did much to prevent it. If it went too far, he would step in and knock some sense into them. But in the end, this is just how they were. They resolved everything with a passionate debate.  Everything .

The door to his room slid open at the touch of his hand. He swept off his overcoat and settled heavily onto his bed. It had not been an easy job. They would have to lie low for a while. Stealing from the Alliance was like that. Nothing but trouble. But at least they would get paid. And any chance to stick it to those government lackeys was a welcome one as far as he was concerned. For now all he wanted to do was sleep. Kicking off his boots and sliding out of his suspenders, Janus collapsed back onto his pillow. 

“Dim the lights, Serenity.” He mumbled to the ship’s AI, already drifting off to sleep.

Bang!

“Janus! They won’t let me-”

“Janus! You can’t let Remus hurt-”

“Janus! We need your help. There’s-”

“EVERYONE SHUT UP!” Janus yanked open the door.

Glaring down at his crew, even with his ruffled hair and wrinkled shirt he cut an intimidating figure. His eyes bored into their souls, shutting down any ideas of speaking out of turn.

“One at a time you will explain to me what is wrong in as few words as possible. Virgil, you first.”

“Roman found a stowaway. He’s with him now.”

“A stowaway.  Fantastic.  Just what we needed.” The captain spat. “Remus?”

“Obviously, we should just toss the little squirt out into space. But no one here will let me.”

Janus turned to the last one there. “And I suppose that’s why you’re upset, Patton?”

“He’s just a kid.” The empathetic engineer practically pleaded.

“Where is he?”

“Storage. Roman found him while securing the prototype.” Virgil explained.

“So the kid’s seen what we have.  More wonderful news .” He drew his hand down his face with a sigh. “Alright, you three stay here. I’ll go figure this out.”

***

Roman was sitting on the floor, his katana had been drawn and set aside behind him. He was talking in a low voice to the kid. Across from him, the stowaway sat with his back ramrod straight as his fingers played with the laces of his shoe. The kid was nervous but trying his best to hide it. Whatever Roman was saying the kid wasn’t responding.

Janus rapped the wall with his knuckles. The kid whipped his head around to face him. There was an intelligence in those eyes. He stared with a calculating gaze that was unusual for one so young. He was dressed smartly, wearing pressed slacks and a vest, obviously a child of wealth. Now what would lead a kid of status to stowaway on a ship of thieves?

“Ah, Captain. Good thing you're here. He won’t speak to anyone but you.” Roman spoke, trying his best to keep his voice calm and even, an usual occurrence for the boisterous first mate.

“You’re the captain?” The child asked, unimpressed.

“No, I’m the cook. Everyone calls me Captain because if they don’t I’ll spit in their food.” Janus whispered conspiratorially. 

The kid squinted his eyes in suspicion and confusion. “You are being dishonest.”

A stowaway that didn’t understand sarcasm, this would certainly be interesting. “You’re right. I am being dishonest. You’ve figured it out, I am the captain. And now I need you to answer my questions. Can you tell me why you’ve decided to stowaway on my ship?”

The kid looked between the two of them, he tried to speak with confidence but there was a spark of fear hidden within his eyes. Janus wondered if Roman could see it too.

“I want to join you.” The kid spoke simply.

Roman raised his brow and Janus could not hold back a chuckle. The kid tightened his fists, preparing himself for a debate. “I’m smart. I can solve problems and help map out battle plans better than anyone in my class.”

“I’m sure you can, kid,” Janus shook his head incredulously. “But you see we don’t really have any need for a battle tactician. And as for plans and problems, no one can beat my second-in-command here.” Janus clapped his hand around Roman’s shoulder.

“It’s true. If he brought you on, I might grow jealous.” Roman smirked.

“Well, then I could join another ship. One that needs me.” The kid refused to be persuaded.

The captain sighed. Alright, the straight-forward approach. “Look, you aren’t joining a ship of smugglers and thieves. We won’t take you and there is no way I’m letting you join any other ship. You’d be killed in a month. Why don’t you tell me where your home is and we can drop you off?”

“Smugglers? I thought-” The kid’s fear was unmistakable now. “I may have made a miscalculation.” 

“Did you now?”

“You’re not with the rebellion?”

“Most definitely not.”

“You attacked the Northern Outpost on Galiero. Why would you do that if you are not with the rebellion?”

“Ah, see… we can’t really tell you about that. But-”

The kid was not listening, scanning the room he pointed to the prototype, cutting Janus off, “It’s because of that. Isn’t it?’

The prototype sat beside a smuggling hold. It was a large piece of machinery, all sharp edges and mysterious buttons, waiting patiently to be hidden snuggly away, the same hold that the kid must have found and stowed away in. They would need to reevaluate their hidden compartments if a kid could find them.

The kid continued, “If you’re smugglers, then you can take me to the rebels. I can pay you.”

“We’re not taking you to any rebels,” Roman asserted. “We’re taking you home. To your family.”

“My family is gone.” The kid spat out venomously. “It was just my dad and I. And then the Alliance took him away. They said his books were spreading ‘treasonist ideologies.’ They took him away and forced me into a new family. I’m not going back there. I’m joining the rebellion and I’m going to destroy the Alliance.”

There was a pause of silence. Janus and Roman gave each other a meaningful look. “Alright, we won’t take you home,” Janus finally proclaimed. “Roman, why don’t you take the kid here and find him something to eat?”

“Sure thing, Cap.”

“Will you take me to the rebellion?” The kid questioned, refusing to leave without a confirmation.

“Of course, kid.” At that moment, Janus was thankful that the kid couldn’t understand sarcasm.

“It’s Logan. Logan Sanders.” Their stowaway clarified as he allowed himself to be led away.

The captain sighed heavily. He needed to speak with his pilot.

***

“You want to what?” Virgil nearly yelled.

“I want to rescue the boy’s father from the Alliance prisons.”

“You’re insane! You’ve lost it! The Captain’s lost it and we are all going to die!”

“Virgil, calm down. We can do it, as long as we play it smart.”

“No!” Virgil shook his head. “No, there is no ‘playing this smart.’ We are running hot right now. We have a stolen prototype in our storage that the Alliance would happily kill us to regain and now we have a kid on board to worry about! Going anywhere near Alliance space right now is suicide. We need to be heading to the outer planets as fast as our jets can carry us.”

“I know. But we aren’t. Logan needs his father. Or would you rather we hand him over to the rebellion so they can use him as cannon fodder?”

Virgil hissed out a curse. “You can’t do that. You can’t just do that. Guilting me into this madness...” He muttered as he began angrily punching in codes into the panel.

“Thank you, Virgil.”

“If we die, I’ll never forgive you.”

“I know.” Janus answers.

The pilot sighed as the computer beeped back at him. “Remy thinks he can figure out where the kid’s father would have been taken. Last name Sanders, right? We can start heading to the center planets now while he does his thing. It’ll take a couple days, we’ll need to go through the Mirdian belt if we want to avoid detection. By the time we arrive, Remy should have all the info we need to get ourselves killed on a rescue mission.”

“ Perfect. I’ll let the others know.”

***

The kid was pacing. The kid was pacing  a lot  and it was driving Remus up the wall. Back and forth. Back and forth, the kid walked. Glancing this way and that and generally being a distracting nuisance. Remus was sitting at the table, attempting to clean one of his guns in peace. He loved to tinker with his weapons in the kitchen. Best way to work and devour snacks all at once. Patton hated it of course. But Patton was busy helping Virgil. Something about making sure their approach to the planet didn’t trip off any sensors. All Remus knew was that he was supposed to have the kitchen to himself to prepare for the mission. But now there was a kid here. A kid he was not allowed to eject into space. Which Remus considered a travesty. At least the kid being here meant they were going to break into a prison! Remus has always wanted to break into a prison, ever since he and Roman had run away from home looking for adventure. And now he had his chance. He was ready to go. His skin was buzzing in excitement and he was making sure all of his precious babies were loaded and ready for a fight. But his perfect happy bubble was being ruined by  pacing.

“Would you just sit down already!” Remus hollowered at the kid. Logan glanced his way unimpressed and continued to pace.

Remus grumbled in distaste. The kid was suspicious of them, Remus knew it. He may not be able to read body language like Janus, but the kid was definitely suspicious. Remus wasn’t sure how or when but sometime during their trip Logan had figured out they were heading the wrong way to meet up with the rebellion. And now he was pacing. Janus didn’t want them to tell Logan their plans. Something about getting his hopes up. Whatever the reason, it was complete bull. And Remus would know. He specialized in bullcrap.

The kid was pacing. Pacing and planning. An unpredictable plan from an unknown variable meant chaos. Remus liked chaos. But he also liked his friends. And a plan like that, on a mission like this, could get his friends killed.

“Hey kid, you want to know a secret?”

Logan stared back at Remus, silently… waiting.

“We aren’t heading towards the rebellion.” Remus grinned deviously.

There was a pause. Logan searched Remus’s face, looking for who knows what. “You’re taking me to the Alliance. You’re turning me in for clemency. Aren’t you?”

“Hah!” Remus barked out a laugh. “Turning you in for clemency? Hell no! We may not be with the rebellion but our hate for the Alliance runs just as deep.”

“Then why aren’t you with them? Why not help them fight?” Logan’s curiosity was struck.

“Because the rebellion is totally insane! And not in the fun way if you know what I mean?” Logan gave him a look that told Remus he, in fact, did not know what he meant. Remus continued, “They’re one of those defeat-the-evil-empire-by-any-means-necessary types. They believe in their own bullcrap. Trust me, kid, you  don’t  want to work for them.”

“What are you going to do with me then?” Logan pressed.

“We’re going to do something insane. And I do mean insane in the fun way.” Remus winked conspiratorially.

“That does nothing to reassure me.” Logan deadpanned, which caused Remus to let loose a big belly laugh. The sound bouncing around the kitchen.

“You’re alright, kid,” wiping away a tear of mirth, Remus chuckled. “Hey, come over here.” he gestured towards the table, where an assortment of his weapons had been laid out. “We’re going to be leaving in a minute to have our fun. It’ll just be you and Patton on the ship while we’re out. Nothing should happen, but just in case why don’t you take Linda here.” He shoved a small laser gun into the kid’s hands. “She’ll take care of you if any of the insanity comes this way, Alright?”

Logan stared down at the gun in his hands. His brow knitted together in confusion, but when he looked up there was gratitude in his eyes. He nodded his understanding.

A cough came from the doorway. Remus looked up to find the Captain standing in the entrance, looking with fondness at the scene in front of him. “Well, I hope I’m not interrupting. Just thought I’d let you know we’ll be touching down now.” Janus explained, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes. “Remus, meet me in the hold once you’ve finished. Patton will be here in a minute to take care of the kid. Said something about making you guys a hot sugary drink. That should be fun, right kid?”

Logan stared back at the Captain. His fingers feeling the weight of the weapon in his hands. He positioned himself and raised the gun, aiming it directly at the Captain’s face. His eyes were cold and his hands barely shook. “If you betray me I’ll shoot you.”

Remus smiled mischievously as Janus shot him a look of disbelief,  “What did you teach him?”

“Nothing, Cap. This is all him! The kid’s a natural.”

Janus wisely decided to drop it at that. “Just pack up your things and meet me down there.”

“Righty-o, Boss Man!” Remus waved to Janus’s departing back before turning back to his new friend. “Alright, we won’t be seeing each other until nightfall. But don’t you worry, nothing’s gonna harm you. You're under my protection now, like a little chaos apprentice.” He gave a big toothy grin. “And when I have your back nothing bad will ever happen to you. Got it?”

The kid grips the weapon in his hands. “You won’t tell me what you are doing?”

“Nah, Cap wants to keep it a surprise. But trust me, you’ll love it!”

“Alright, I trust you.”

***

It was dusty, so very dusty. The wind blew it everywhere. Beneath the scarves wrapped around their faces. Crusting over the glass of their goggles. And filling their boots, as they dragged their feet further and further through the dunes. Virgil shouldered his pack higher, trying his best to adjust whatever was poking harshly into his back. The pack was heavy, filled to the brim with ammo for whatever Remus had brought along. The pack pulled his weight deeper into the sand with each and every step. They had landed several klicks away from the prison, better to go undetected until they were ready for a fight. But this meant a hike. A hike carrying bulging packs full of everything they will need for the mission ahead.

The sun was clouded. Obscured by the grit blowing around them. But the heat was real. Virgil could feel the sweat beading down his back. Drops pooled around his hairline, dripping into his scarf. Virgil desperately ached to wipe them away. But he knew it would only make the situation worse, covered as his hands were with dust.

As evening neared, they finally arrived within striking distance of the prison. They settled down to wait. Munching on protein packs and chugging water from their skins. Janus passed around an old communicator. A flashing mugshot hovered there from all to see.

Their Captain crouched down beside them, speaking as clearly and precisely as he could. “Thomas Sanders. Civilian. Divorced. Father of one and author of the banned book:  The Lost Art of Community . He was arrested half a lunar cycle ago for perpetuating treasonist ideologies. Remy has provided us with a map of the building and yard. The asset will be held within solitary confinement.”

Virgil swiped through the communicator. Seeing the images zoom pass, sure enough a map popped up. An area colored yellow, stood out from the rest: solitary confinement. Virgil mumbled to himself, repeating what he saw, forcing the images into his memory. 

“We’ll be doing a Surprise Secret,” Janus continued. “Remus and Roman, you’ll cover the Surprise. Virgil and I will take care of the Secret. Understood?”

Words of confirmation echoed out. 

“Alright, begin your preparations. At dusk, we strike.”

***

The sky was beginning to darken. The signal would come any minute now. Virgil thought to himself as he lay on his stomach, he shifted to ensure the katana did not dig into his stomach. Roman had been kind enough to lend it for their mission. Virgil scanned the prison through his binoculars. He couldn’t see the twins, there happened to be a building in the way, but he knew they were there. On the other side, readying their surprise. It had to be soon. Any minute now. Virgil shifted nervously. 

Janus laid a hand on his shoulder, “Virgil, it’ll be okay. We’ve done this before. Only difference is: now the asset is a person. We’ve got this.”

Virgil sighed heavily, “There’s a lot more different than that. It’s-”

BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Time to go. They shot to their feet, sprinting towards the prison. The firefight had begun.

***

Remus was having the time of his life. Guards were pouring out of the front of the building, firing frantically at their position. But Roman and Remus were smuggly secured in a foxhole they had prepared for this very reason. They let loose a torrent of fire upon the building. Doing their best to be as loud as possible. Truly, this was the best job of their life. And all they had to do now was draw as much attention as possible, while not getting killed. Easy peasy. 

Roman yelled, “Reload!” Beside him. Ducking down to grab ammunition from one of the packs that lay open in their hole. 

Remus screamed as he laid down cover fire. “Eat lasers, ya little piggies!!”

A shot whizzed past his ear. Remus ducked his head a little lower. Whoa! That was close. His eyes were wide and his smile couldn’t possibly grow wider. This was living the dream. Roman patted his shoulder signaling he was ready. And together they rose again. Firing an array of blazing lasers down at the swarming guards streaming from the compound beneath them.

***

Virgil and Janus had made it onto the roof. No one had noticed them yet. Roman and Remus were truly doing a fantastic job of drawing everyone’s attention. Still, Virgil couldn’t help but worry. His gut twisted at the thought that his two crewmates were fighting against an entire prison worth of guards with nothing but their position, their weapons, and their skill to protect them. 

He had long since abandoned the religion of his home planet. But as he skittered the edges of the cell block, seeing the lights of the lasers paint the horizon like a violent sunset. For the first time in years he felt the urge to wish. To wish that the great being of fate that pulled on the strings of the universe, fighting for the balance of destruction and creation, really was real. Somewhere outside of their dimension, pulling on the strings and maybe just maybe, ensuring that they would make it out okay. That the balance fell on their side today.

Virgil ran low across the roof, Janus followed closely behind in his footsteps. They glided across the blacktop, weaving between obstacles and doing their best to hide whenever possible. Against the darkened sky, they were but a pair of dancing shadows. While the front of the building was lit up in an array of lights and screams, a display of dazzling laser fire. On the roof, all was silent and dark.

He whispered to himself, repeating the layout of the map. East, a little further. They were close. So very close. Roman and Remus just had to hold on a little bit longer. Janus whipped out a thermal reader, readying himself. They had arrived at the section for solitary confinement.

The thermal reader lit up softly, Janus shifted his coat to hide the light as best as he could. Moving right and left, he worked his way across the roof. Virgil had brought out his own, starting at the other end of the section, he crouched low over the screen, he appeared as a hovering figure, coasting his way over the building, moving eerily similar to a predator. A beast-like crouch reminiscent of the predators of Loskor searching the ground for hidden Storles’s burrows.

A call broke his concentration. Janus gestured him over. Sure, enough his screen was filled with the image of red. A humanoid figure pacing in the cell below. Virgil pulled out Roman’s katana. At the push of a button, the blade pulsed red. He steadied his stance, holding the blade firmly in his fist, Virgil pushed it down into the blacktop of the roof. The blade hissed, sparks flew, spitting gravel into the air. Virgil pushed further, fighting against the force. On Janus’s screen, the figure was stock-still and squirreled away into a corner, the body stared up at the ceiling, watching their progress. Virgil pulled the blade across. Slowly, he moved around, forming the rough shape of a rounded box. He removed the katana and extinguished the fire. Now, came the tricky part. Thankfully, the figure appeared content to stay in the corner.

Virgil kicked down forcibly onto the weakened rooftop. The cut-out shape moved an inch inward, creating a large person-sized depression in the otherwise smooth surface. Sturdy sucker. Virgil kicked again.

The chunk of rooftop collapsed into the cell below, spraying chunks of rock across the frightened prison. He stared up at them through the hole. Through the dust and dirt, Virgil could make out the face of their target, Thomas Sanders. 

“Your son, Logan, is waiting for you,” Janus caught the attention of the prisoner. “Ready to go?”

“My son?” Thomas asked, dumbstruck.

Virgil lay down on the roof at the edge of the hole. Reaching down into the cell, his fingers stretching towards the prisoner. “We have to go now! Grab on.”

Thomas glanced between them, searching their faces in a similar fashion to the way Logan often would. Satisfied with what he saw, he jumped to catch Virgil’s outstretched palm. Virgil groaned under the force of a grown man hanging from his arm, but he managed to hang on. He pulled his arm up. Janus came round and offered his own hand out to the man. Once they had a hold on each of his arms, they worked together. Pulling the man up and out of the darkened prison cell. They collapsed against the rooftop, huffing.

“Time to break radio silence.” Janus spoke. Yanking a communicator from his belt, he brought it up to his lips. “The secret is done. Time for the final surprise.” 

The communicator crackled noisily. The sounds of static and explosion pouring through. A voice broke through the noise. “Final surprise incoming. Brace for impact.”

Virgil jumped to his feet, pulling the prison to standing position. “There’s going to be a big blast. When it happens we’ve got to run to the edge of the roof as fast as we can. You understand?”

The prisoner nodded his head, frantically. Clearly, this man was out of his depths. But he seemed focused and ready to listen. And right now, that’s all they needed.

The building shook violently. The front of the prison crumbled inward slightly as a bright ball of light stung their eyes.

“To the front! Now!” Janus yelled.

The trio ran.

***

The firefight was really starting to get exciting, Remus thought. Their foxhole was taking heavy damage and their ammunition was beginning to run low. They had to wrap this up soon if they wanted to get off this hellhole-of-a-planet unscathed. Although getting a little scathed was alright in Remus’s opinion. One can never have too many battle scars, afterall. In truth, Remus never really feared injury, not for himself at least. If the personification of death came strolling up to Remus one day, he’d probably greet him to a challenge of arm wrestling, just to see who was stronger, of course. Now, if death came for someone else, someone Remus cared about, that was another story. And so when the call from Janus came in, Remus was happy to say that thing’s seemed to be working out.

Remus set up the support stand as Roman answered, “Final Surprise incoming, brace for impact.”

From the last pack, the one that had laid unopened during the battle, Remus pulled out, what he affectionately called, The Final Surprise. A missile laser launcher that could fire a laser bolt big enough to put a hole through a military class transporter. This was going to be fun! He set it in place on the support stand and lined up his shot. Aiming for the front of the prison, his smile grew wider. The line of guard’s that had formed to fight off the “invasion” had no idea what was about to come their way.

Remus fired the Final Surprise. So named because in life there is only one final surprise.

The front of the building exploded in fire. The frame shook. The doors had been blasted off. Prisoners had been freed. And now the guards were fighting a battle on two fronts.

Remus began hurriedly packing up whatever supplies they would have the time to take. Roman took to laying down cover fire. As he packed, he took to watching the building attentively. Looking for the three figures that were currently sprinting across the rooftop. He spotted their silhouettes as they neared the building’s front. All three were there. They were safe.

Over the cacophony of battles cries and weapons firing, a new sound was heard. The thrum of an engine. Most importantly the thrum of the engine of their ship. It roared violently, the buzz of a thousand hornets that was felt deep in the bones. The ship tore through the air and came to hover directly behind them. The door had been lowered, open and ready for them to enter.

“Ready to board?” Roman shouted to his brother.

Remus was clutching the Final Surprise to his chest. The packs had been piled onto his shoulders, two to an arm. He felt positively giddy. They left their foxhole behind and jumped aboard. The guards that weren’t fighting prisoners had shifted to fire upon the ship. It was time to leave.

“We’re on! Move to the rooftop.” Roman radioed Patton. 

The ship rose higher, coming level to the rooftop. It soared over the heads of the guard. The ship rattled as it took laser fire to its hull. The trio watched them as they flew in closer. Virgil jumped aboard first. Running in to hug the twins. 

“God, we’re alive!” He cheered.

Janus and the prisoner jumped together. The captain steadying the civilian. He helped him through the door and safely inside the ship’s storage.

Everyone was here. They were safe. They had successfully completed a prison break!

The ship began to rise from the building. The door was beginning to close when Remus saw it. 

The prison had launched their own ship. A prison transport. It had limited weapon capabilities. But their ship was already taking fire. They couldn’t risk it.

Remus was still holding onto the Final Surprise. There wasn’t anytime to set up the support stand. He dropped the packs and slammed his fist against the button to hold open the door. The others looked his way in shock as he squared up on the half-closed ramp. He hefted the Final Surprise against his shoulder. The transport ship came into his crosshairs. Remus fired.

There is a reason that the Final Surprise requires a support stand to fire. The recoil. The laser bolt left the launcher. It blasted through the crack in the open door. And Remus, he was thrown back. The last thing he saw before everything went black was the prisoner transport explode into a mess of shrapnel.

What a way to end a prison break.

***

The dreadful thing about having a surprise stowaway on board, is that other things fall to the wayside. Janus knew he had meant to give the order to hide away the prototype. But with planning a prisoner break, dealing with a child that was too smart for his own good, and trying their best to fly to a prison planet without being detected: They had just never gotten around to it.

Janus watched in horror as Remus was thrown across the ship’s storage and directly into the path of the prototype. His body smacked against its side. And blood pooled across his shirt. The crew rushed to his side. Janus barking orders to give him space.

Janus didn’t even know what the prototype did. He had just been hired to steal it. The customer was paying well and it was a chance to stick it to the Alliance. He had jumped at the chance. Now, he stood beside his bleeding crewmate. Someone had passed him a wad of gauze, probably Virgil. He was pressing them the best he could to the wound, working around the projectile. For Remus had been impaled upon a metal protrusion on the device.

Virgil was frantic. He had brought out the first aid kit and was doing what he could. But none of them knew what to do with a wound like this. How could they? They were smugglers, not doctors.

“Virgil, Patton needs you.” Janus stared at their frantic pilot.

Virgil wordlessly shook his head no.

“You need to fly us out of here.”

“He needs help.” Virgil argued.

“And what are you going to do here? We’ve got him. But right now, we need you to get us out of here. Patton doesn’t know how to leave a planet’s atmosphere. If you don’t pilot this ship we all die. And it will be your fault.” Janus's voice was as cold as stone. It was times like these that he knew why he had become their Captain. To be a Captain, meant at times you had to be cruel.

And the look Virgil shot him as he left. He knew he would pay for what he had said. But at least, they would survive. Janus could feel the blood pool around his hands. Well, most of them.

Roman was at his side now. He gripped his brother’s hand in his own. “Remus. Remus, wake up. You’ve got to wake up.”

“I’m sorry, Roman.” The captain spoke. “Are there any death rites on your planet?”

“No.” A shout came from behind them. Janus turned his head to see the stowaway. His arms were raised, just as had they had been this morning. The gun Remus had given him was held firmly in his hands. “You have to save him.”

“I’m sorry, kid. There’s nothing we can do.”

“YOU HAVE TO!” He shouted. His father crouched beside him. Whispering and trying to coax the weapon from his hands.

Logan shoved his father’s arms away. “The rebellion! Take him to the rebellion! They’ll save him!”

Roman lifted his head to look at the kid, “I would never take him back there. You don’t know what they’re like. When we left… when we found this ship, we promised we’d never return to them.”

“But… but… he can’t just die! He said he’d protect me!”

“There’s another way,” Thomas spoke. “The Alliance, the Rebellion. They aren’t the only people out there. There are others that can help.”

“What do you mean?” Roman asked, hope tinting his words.

“I was jailed for a book about community. Because in community is where our strength lies. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. There are others like me. Spread out throughout the universe, on every planet. If you showed me a map, I could take us to someone nearby. People that can help. People that help not because they want to use you for their own ends, but because they want to help. Because they believe in community.”

Janus looks to Roman. The twin nodded his head. Janus spoke, “Logan, could you show your father to the cockpit.”

Janus hated the Alliance. They were cruel. The rebellion wasn’t much better. But perhaps, with each other, with this  community and the family that they had found on this ship, they could make it. They could survive. And maybe. Just maybe if this plan was just crazy enough to work. They could save Remus too.

Janus pressed a kiss to Remus’s forehead. “Don’t worry. We’re here for you.”

***

Remus awoke wrapped in warmth. The sounds of laughter and chattering voices drifted to his ears. He could hear his brother, his voice loud and boisterous. He was telling a story of their childhood. The time they had stolen a whole pie from the baker and eaten the entire thing in one afternoon. There was the giggle of a child. Logan? His captain spoke next, Janus making some sarcastic comment. Patton admonished the captain. He could hear the smirk in Virgil’s voice, as the pilot joined in.

Was everyone here? Had they all made it?

Remus opened his eyes. He was in bed. Not his bunk but an actual bed, in an actual bedroom. His crew sat in chairs around him. There was a beam of sunlight streaming in through a window. They weren’t on the ship. Where were they?

“Hey sleepy guy, welcome back!” Patton cooed.

His brother reached out his hand and squeezed his shoulder. “Looks like you got your wish, bro. A real-life prison break. But I’m telling you now, we are never doing that again.”

The chaotic twin grinned at his family. He looked down at his bandaged chest and then back to his loved ones, “it was totally worth it.”

Virgil looked about ready to punch him for that comment. But Logan beat him to it, slapping his arm only somewhat playfully, “You are never allowed to do something like that again. Ever again! Okay?” He commanded.

“Aw, alright... But only because there is still so much I want to teach you.”

Logan nodded his head in acknowledgement, “As long as you allow me to teach you about basic safety!”

“Oh, I like this kid.” Virgil chuckled.

And soon everyone had joined in. Sharing stories all about his lack of basic self-preservation instincts.

***

Janus watched as his crew delighted in Remus’s return to the land of the conscious. Turns out Thomas had been right, together they could survive.

taglist: @stop-it-anxiety @hexatrash @ollyollyoxinfree @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @leiasolo77 @arya-skywalker @alexxadontplaydespasito

[let-me-be-a-fander-in-peace]

Outsider.

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My versions of demons are technically not Christian demons, but it’s a bit more complex than that, so VERY information about the demon race at the end of the fic. Here is the prompt I used.

Next

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Relationships: Virgil & Thomas, Remus & Janus & Virgil.

Word count: 3,100.

Description: it was bound to happen eventually, doesn’t mean that Virgil, a human, is happy about being put in a school for demons.

Tw: Joking about skinning someone alive and comparing their organs, and joking about hostages. (Yes, Remus is mostly the one joking about it)

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Of course, Virgil thinks, only my parents could mange to make this big of a mistake.

Standing in the hall you enter once you walk through the frount door of the school. Virgil sees all of the baige lockers lined up, most of the few gaps in between the lockers against the wall are wood doors that enter into classrooms.

Virgil sees students walking down the hall, talking with friends or walking alone. There also students standing by the lockers grabbing thing they need for there first class or putting their supplies away. There are also groups of people just standing by the lockers taking with each other. this would normally not surprise, except for one key detail;

They were all demons.

Everyone had horns and some color from the rainbow skin tone mixed with unique features every demon have, like wings, tails, multiple eyes, plants growing in select areas, and more.

Virgil felt anxiety pounding in his gut as he walked to the councilors office. He could feel eyes burning his skin and he can see the double takes some of demons are doing.

Virgil stops in frount of a door and pulls out his crinkled postet note with the councilers door number on it from his pocket. He glances down at his postet note to confirm that he is at the right door. yep, Virgil thinks, this is the right door, and he hesitantly walks in.

Virgil enters the Councilers office and walks towards the accountant, He glances down at the name tag, Mrs Qucei to ask for his schedule.

“..Hello? Um, I’m Virgil Angst and I’m here for my schedule?”

Mrs. Qucei without looking up from typing on her computer says “Go to the door behind you to enter Mr. Sanders Office for you schedule.”

Virgil stands in that place for a second before quickly turning around and speed walking to the door behind him and knocking.

“Oh? Come in!”

Virgil hesitantly turns the door handle and pushes the door open, just enough for his body to fit through.

When Virgil closes the door he looks a around the room. The room has beige walls and dark wood flooring, on the left wall there is a giant picture frame with a bunch of mini lgbtq+ flags with the corresponding meaning for each flag.

In the left hand counter there is a bedside table with small figet toys on it and a lamp. There is a bin under the table with more figet toys, and next to the bedside table there are different types of chairs, there is a beanbag, a spiny chair, a stool, and a two person couch.

Across in the back right corner facing the right there is a wooden desk and a big computer screen in the middle of the desk. The desk seems to be kinda messy, there is a messy stack of papers on the side and a buch of pens and pencils littered the desk, when they look like they should be in the cups with pens and pencils, (some with animal erasers and fluff balls on the top).

But typing on the computer in your typical office chair there is a demon, he looks to be an short demon, (so around six foot four) and his skin is a warm gray. This horns go up and then swoop down, kind of like a crooked upside down L. He has a slim-ish nose and small lips. His eyes have no whites in them (most demons don’t) and his eyes are a dark brown. His hands have webbing in between them, and he has sharp and long nails. he is wearing a warm brown leather jacket and a dark blue top, he’s wearing jeans and brown loafers.

He looks up from where he was sitting and smiles at Virgil, ushering over to the many chairs. Virgil drops his backpack right against to the tall stool so it’s leaning against it, and Virgil sits on the tall stool where he can hang is legs off. Virgil pulls on this sleeves and bunches the extra fabric that goes past his hands into his sleeve covers hands, and he keeps doing that to have something to do with his hands.

Mr. Sanders smiles at him before talking, “Hi, I’m Mr. Sanders he/him, what’s your name and pronouns?”

Virgil figures that Mr. Sanders already knows his name, seeing as he is the new human student, but goes along with it anyways, “Um, Hi? I’m Virgil Angst.. uh- he/him.”

Virgil mentally cringes at how he spoke, why did I have to be so bad at social interaction.

Luckily for Virgil, Mr. Sanders didn’t seem to mind, and keeps talking, “obviously your the new student, I have your schedule right... here!”

As Mr. Sanders shuffled around his desk for Virgils schedule, he let out a small ‘ah ha!” As he found it. He quickly stood up and walks over to Virgil, handing him his schedule. Then goes back to sit at his desk.

Virgil looks at the schedule handed to him, it has his locker number and combination, and it has his six classes in this order: Biology, Algebra, World history, English, Lunch, German, P.E.

Virgil looked back up at Mr. Sanders. There was still one question in his mind, why was he, a human, doing in a demon school?

As if Mr Sanders could read his mind, he starts the talking, “Now I’m pretty sure your woundering why you’re in a school full of demons, and I would be wondering the same thing if I were you. The reason for this is that the school was informed of your parents, er, work schedule,”— I know that parents keep getting relocated and moving for the new job—“and sense this is the easiest place for your parents, we let you enroll!”

Oh. Oh...

my parents were to lazy to get me into a human school...

...So they signed me up for a school for demons.

...Eh, it was going to happen eventually, I guess.

“Now that I’ve given you your schedule go to your first class! You don’t want to be late!”

Virgil pushes himself off of the tall stool and swings his backpack over his sholder before saying goodbye to Mr. Sanders and walking out of the Room.

Virgil entered the hallway and looked at all of the locker numbers and counts until he hid his own locker.

A-124.

A-125.

A-126.

A-127 .

And... A-128!

My locker.

Virgil looked at his looker and back at this schedule a few more times confirm that he was actually at the right locker. Once he wasn’t so anxious that this wasn’t the right locker the looks at the locker combination and puts his hand on the lock to try.

17.

Virgil put it to number 17.

45.

Virgil twisted the lock in the other direction to get to 45.

31.

Virgil twisted the lock in the opposite direction all the way around before putting it on 31.

Finally Virgil pushed up the black peace that opens the locker, and the locker opened with a small squeek.

Virgil suddenly felt a wave of relieve that he hadn’t been assigned the wrong locker, and then he put this backpack in his locker and took out his binder and a book Virgil is currently reading. Then Virgil took a picture of his schedule and set it to his background screen. Then was on his way to biology class.

As Virgil walks down the hall he saw a bunch a demons looking at him. He understands why they’re looking at him, doesn’t mean he has to like it though.

Virgil steps infrount of a open door and checks his phone to see if this was the right class.

He checks his phone and thinks, yep, this is the right class.

Virgil walks through the door and sees a seating chart being protected on those roll up white screens. Virgil looks around at the seating chart before in the corner of his eye he catches his name. Virgil’s name is in a box that represents the back corner table, with two other people, A Remus Creatività and A Janus Dolus.

Virgil walks over to where his name corresponds to and sits down, putting his binder and book in the table corner. Virgil grabs his book and opens it up to his paper bookmark. Pulls the bookmark out and sets it to the side, and continues reading where he left off.

Not even a page in, Virgil feels his book get suddenly ripped out of his hands. He looks up at the bitch who ripped his book out of his hands, and see’s a tall demon around six foot nine with light green skin, he has a pointy nose, and big eyes with a white eye color, around his eyes there is purple eyeshadow, and (really good) winged eyeliner. He also shaved his eyebrow ends. He has a crazed smile with a lot of sharp teeth. He has a dark green curly muttet with a buch of small white streaks in his hair and one prominent white streak in the frount. In his hair there are dark green horns that fade into black at the top, the horns zigzag to the back of his head.

He has two pairs of tentacles, they’re a dark brown, lighter on the bottom where the suckers are. and crossed like you would cross your arms if you didn’t have bones.

He is wearing a black T-shirt with the red anarchy symbol, and a bunch of Bracelets on his wrist, some are your average homemade friendship bracelet, some are rubber bands with stuff on them, and there are also hair ties and those animal shaped rubber bands. He’s wearing gray ripped shorts and purple tights with a bunch of holes in them. And finally he’s wereing doc Martins with purple lace.

I think that’s lace code Virgil thinks, err... if that is lace code, which I think it is, purple means gay pride... I think.

Virgil is snapped out of his head by the demon talking,“Oooo! What’s this!”

The boy exclaims, closing the book with a finger in the book to hold the placement, and reads the summary on the back.

Then another demon, around six foot three, walks up to the other demon and pulls Virgils book out of his hands. This demon has a golden skin tone and a long nose. His face is half regular and half snake. On his regular side he has dark brown eyes, just like most demons, you can’t see the white in his eyes. On his snake side there are yellow-green scales, the scales start right next to his nose and go to his ear. His lips look totally normal except for that where the human lips end on this snake half there is a snake mouth, (stretchy skin that Virgil can’t see connects his snake mouth together), and it extends to his ear. his eye on his name half is fully yellow and he has a split pupil. under his name eye is what looks to be a giant pink eye bag.

His clothing is very causal, his black hair is slicked back and in a black Beene, so Virgil can’t see his horns.He is wearing a black long sleeve shirt with thin yellow strips on the sleeves, he has three pairs of arms, (so six arms total) that all have the same sleeve pattern. He has black fingerless gloves, his nails are painted white with a glossy topcoat, and you can see scales on some of his fingers. he is in black leather pants with a brown belt. His shoes are black high tops with white accents.

“Remus, Why are you harassing the new student?”

The tall demon, who’s name is apparently Remus, pouts, “Jannyyyyyy—“ Remus gets a death glare from... Janny? “Janusss! I wasn’t harassing him! He’s at our table and I want to know if he’s juicy or not!”

“You could do that without harassing him.”

“But that’s no fun!”

The short demon, Janus? glares at Remus, crossing his multiple arms, he still has Virgils book in his hand.

“...Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” He sighs giving in to Janus’ stare.

Virgil feel kinda awkward, and interrupts, “Uh, hi, this is fun and all, but can I have my book back.”

They both turn to him. they look at each other and back back at Virgil, “Sweet Satain, I forgot you were even here.” Remus bluntly responds.

“Ah, I’m terribly sorry, here is you book back.” Janus says and he hands Virgils book back to him. Virgil hesitatly takes his book back, and puts his book mark on the last page he was at before shutting his book.

“So! Your the new kid! And your human, of course I was curious!” Remus exclaims, “So, how did you get into this school? Last time I checked humans went to that other school a town over, so what are you doing here?”

During that speech Remus went to sit across from Virgil, and Janus went to sit next to Remus. Remus is leaning over the table with his fists against the table looking at Virgil with wide eye curiously.

“Ummm..”

I really dont what to say to to demons, who are basically strangers, that my parents where so busy that they convinced the leaders to let me go to school here because I can comfortably walk here.

Suddenly the teacher starts calling for everyone’s attention, signaling that class has started.

Virgil silently sighs in relief. Saved by the teacher.

Class is pretty boring, seeing as it’s the first day of school and all classes are just going over rules and stuff like that.

Virgil is reading the class syllabus when suddenly a paper is sild over to Virgil. Virgil looks up from the class syllabus to see Remus wink at him, so Virgil hesitately unfolds the paper and reads their writing in it.

Did you know that skin is the largest organ?

Virgil feels confused, why is Remus asking if I know if skin is the largest organ?

...no, I didn’t.

Virgil slides the paper back to Remus, he writes something down and slides it back.

Well it is! If you skinned someone alive and separated all of there organs, all of their skin clumped together would be bigger than all of the other organs, even the big intestine!

Virgil writes something down and slides it back to Remus, Why is them being alive while you skin then important?

Before Remus could write something down Janus slides the paper to himself and looks between Remus and Virgil with a ‘seriously?’ Expression. Remus quickly nods and Virgil hides his face in his hoodie out of embarrassment.

Janus writes something and slides it over to Remus, who writes something down and slides it to Virgil.

Virgil unfolds the paper and reads it.

Why must you always have the most gruesome conversation starters. Is written in nice cursive with a black pen.

After that is, Because you always gotta start out conversations with your true self!

Next to that Virgil writes, So,,, your true self is skinning a person alive to compare there organs?

Yes! Inside my soul is skinning someone alive and comparing their organs. There is a picture of a ghost, inside the ghost there is one stick figure with exed out eyes and with red pen scribbled all over the stick figures torso. Next to the stick figure is another stick figure nellinf next to it with a knife and the end of what is supposed to be the arm.

I can attest to that, is written next to it.

Now we know what is inside Remus’ (that’s your name right?) soul, what’s inside your soul?

The paper was eventually sild back into Virgils area and he read what was new in it.

Yes! My name is Remus, you also spelled it correctly, an what is inside your soul, Janus?

Below that Janus had written, ...Hmmm, inside my soul is a very rich fancy old lady who killed her husband for his money, and she is covered in jewelry drinking wine in a finch wine glass. what about you, Virgil. (if that is your name.)

The paper slides to Virgil, he reads the paper and thinks for a second, before writeing something down. Yes, Virgil is my name, In my soul there is a 2000’s emo kid writing decent poetry about how ‘no one understands me’ while blasting The Black Parade.

Virgil sides the paper over to Janus, who does one of those nose laughs where instead of making noise you choppily exhail. He writes and slides the paper over to Remus, who slides the paper back to Virgil.

You couldn’t come up with anything more creative than The black Parade?

Yeah! Is written in his chicken scratch handwriting, what about the screams of hostages?

Virgil rolls his eyes and slides the paper back. You couldn’t come up with anything more creative with just ‘the screaming of hostages’?

The paper is slid back to Virgil, oh-ho! Do not test me! I don’t want to scare you, too much, you feel me?

You say that as your convertation started was about organs. Is written in Janus’ fancy handwritten

Yeah, why did you try to start a conversation with that?

The paper is slid back to Virgil, and Remus has a weirdly smug face on as Virgil opens the folded paper. because only juicy people actually respond to that! Congrats Virgil! You passed the juicy test!

With his micanical pencil Virgil writes, I don’t know if I should be relived or scared that I passed the ‘juicy test’, and slides it over to Remus and Janus’ side of the table.

The paper slides back to Virgil. I’ll leave that up to you! But just know now that you have passed the test you are our friend. You cant escape. Below that in Janus’ black pen is, good luck.

Just as Virgil finishes reading Remus’ and Janus’ nots the bell goes off, making Virgil jump in his seat.

The bell is so loud, he thinks while packing up. Once he has all of his stuff ready to go he gets up to leave class when he hears Remus yell, “SEE YOU LATER!” And Virgil waves back at him.

Virgil walks out of the classroom and looks at his phone to see what his next class is, it turns out his next class is algebra.

———————————

Heyyy everyone... I have so many other things planned out, but I saw this prompt and all of my modivation for all my other wips left my body... so have this!

There is going to be more than one part! it should be out soon, now information on the demon race!

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I do not mean to disrespect Christians! This universe’s version of christainly is just that, a fantasy version that represents the worst version of Christianity. so please don’t come for me.

The demon race and the Human race met in the 500’s, the reason I say demons are technically not the Christian demons is because they were labeled as the devils followers, they were said to be devils from hell. That is where the image of Satan was created. There where lots of hate agents demons back in the old days. but demon and Humans have been collaborating for so long that most of the hate and suspicion for demons has died out with time.

In this universe Demons are taller and stronger than humans, but there senses are dulled down compared to humans, (which was why the bell was louder to Virgil.) Demons where also considered to be Dumber than humans (there not), because they were hunters and gathers, and they spoke a different language. So in this universe that was how the image of the devil was created. in the modern day (when this story takes place) most Christians consider the big, red, horned version of Satan bullshit, (especially demon followers) but it kinda rude to call demon’s devil’s.