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delimeful · 24 hours

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in sickness and in health (8)

warnings: captivity, arguing, remus talking about remus things, panic, gratuitous amount of puns, lmk if i missed any

“What’s going on?”

The impromptu staredown between all three humans was interrupted by Roman hurriedly leaning obnoxiously far over the counter, bodily blocking Patton’s view of the two borrowers.

“Patton!” he blurted, clearly aiming for a casual air and instead landing somewhere in the realm of ‘stewing in blatant panic and guilt’. “Hello there, what an unexpected and lovely surprise to see you here, in… the kitchen of your own home.”

Next to him, Virgil heard the small, distinct thwap of his fellow borrower’s palm meeting their face.

“…What’s going on?” Patton repeated, sounding far more awake this time.

“Extremely normal, non-fairy-related things,” Roman answered, visibly sweating.

“Extremely bloody Dionysian orgies,” Remus said at the same time, considerably louder.

Virgil could see just enough of Patton’s expression to watch the way it crinkled in a sort of morose confusion.

“In the kitchen?” he asked, voice pained, as though that was his main problem with the suggestion.

“If there aren’t any knives involved, can any orgy really be called Dionysian?” Remus replied in a faux-wise tone, lifting his arm to make a deeply inappropriate gesture in accompaniment with his words. This technically cleared the way back to the wall, but as it turned out, only for a moment.

Before either of them could get too hopeful about any chance of escape, Remus ended the gesture by quickly clapping his hands over the both of them in a makeshift dome shape.

Next to him, the other borrower only flinched a bit, but Virgil couldn’t help the outright squeak he made at the sudden limbs dropping down over them.

There was another pause from the humans above them, this one distinctly more harried.

“Um, guys?” Patton’s voice had gone from confused to concerned. “What was—?”

“Broken whoopee cushion,” Remus insisted. “Filled it with mayonnaise, you know how it goes.”

“He sneezed!” Roman added, his voice sliding up a few pitches. “Gesundheit, Remus! Totally nothing strange about that— Padre, wait!”

There were big steps drawing closer, now, and Remus’s hands cinched in a little tighter around the two of them. They were forced to huddle even closer together, and the other borrower’s bony elbow collided with his side in a way he wasn’t convinced was accidental.

He shot them a glare, which they returned with an expression that was equal parts indignant and frantic. After a second, they forced a barely-there whisper through grit teeth. “It’s your human. Will he hurt us?”

“How am I supposed to know?!” Virgil hissed back, just as quiet. “I didn’t ever get caught before you showed up!”

Not while the human was conscious enough to remember it, anyhow.

The other borrower’s eyes narrowed into slits, reminding Virgil that he probably shouldn’t be antagonizing the guy that already proved themself willing to try and murder him once. Before they could respond, though, the conversation over their heads continued.

“Guys,” Patton said, sounding stern. “What have we said about wrangling critters in my home?”

“That it was a firmly banned activity after the Great Frog Croak-tastrophe?” Roman guessed sheepishly. “And, y’know, that was certainly a fair and just ruling for that situation, however—!”

“Nuh-uh, I don’t wanna hear it,” Patton replied, unwavering. Virgil could practically envision the way his human was standing from his tone alone: hands on his hips, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Frog or not, I’m sure whatever you two caught will be much hoppier once they’re released safely outside, right Remus?”

“Eh, you might not feel the same after you see them, Pattycakes,” Remus warned. “I know I’m usually the harbinger of pests, wrangler of rats, champion of centipedes, but not even I know what to do about these guys.”

There was the shuffle of clothing, like Patton was shifting in place, and he sighed. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to figure it out together, huh?”

There was a moment of hesitation where Virgil assumed the twins were exchanging a wordless meaningful look, as they so often did, and then the distinct slide of glass across a countertop.

The moment the hands around them twitched, Virgil shifted into a crouched position, drawing his legs under him and preparing to bolt the moment there was space, even if it was probably totally futile. Next to him, he could feel the other borrower doing much the same.

Rather than lift off of them, however, the hands shifted to pinch even closer together, forming the shape of a spade, like a pair of nut shells that had been glued back together at the edges, leaving a hollow space inside. The two of them were forced to scramble upwards into the hold or get limbs stuck in between the sides of Remus’s palms as he scooped them up off the counter completely.

Virgil’s stomach dropped at the upwards movement, completely out of his control, and he reached out and latched onto the side of the other borrower’s shirt with a white-knuckled grip. They were still at least a little concussed, and Virgil wasn’t letting them get separated now, not when he’d already gotten himself into the most terrifying situation in his life saving them. Wherever they were going, they’d at least be stuck in it together.

To his surprise, the other borrower gripped him right back.

After only a few seconds, they were lowered and deposited onto a familiar smooth surface. Virgil grit his teeth at the feeling, resisting the urge to scream in frustration. He’d just gotten out of this stupid glass pitcher!

He didn’t get much time to seethe indignantly, however, because the moment Remus’s hands pulled away, there were much bigger problems to face.

Three of them, to be precise.

Heart in his throat, Virgil slowly lifted his head to look up at the face of his human, warped through the curve of the glass.

With a confused furrow to his brow, Patton moved to take a step closer, and then stopped short as the sight before him properly registered. His hand flew up to cover his mouth, his eyes widening with surprise. “Oh my!”

“I toad you so,” Remus interjected unhelpfully.

Roman cuffed his shoulder, and Remus immediately jabbed two fingers into Roman’s side in retaliation. It was only a firm warning look from Patton that kept them from devolving into another slap fight during the most terrifying moment of Virgil’s life.

Virgil shifted to stand, shuffling back until he didn’t have to crane his neck so painfully to make eye contact. Humans were so big, and it had never been more evident than it was now, staring up at giants.

Staring up at Patton. He was pretty sure he’d had a nightmare that had gone exactly like this. Well, minus the concussed would-be assassin. And the frog puns.

Patton, for his part, had developed a genuinely distressed twist to his features as he took in the sight of the two of them. After a moment of wavering, his gaze settled firmly on Virgil, sending a prickling sense of alarm up his spine.

“Hello again,” said Patton, smiling at him.

Virgil froze. The borrower behind him froze. Even the twins froze for a moment, before their heads both snapped around to stare at Patton with eerie synchronization.

“You know them?!” two voices asked, in two very different tones.

Virgil felt dread drop into his gut like a stone down a sewer grate. There was no way.

“I know one of them,” Patton answered, unperturbed by everyone’s shock. “That’s the little guy who helped take care of me while I was sick!”

He lifted a hand in demonstration and wiggled his fingers, the healing burns on them still visibly shiny.

The twins gaped. “He what?”

Behind him, in a far more bewildered tone, the other borrower echoed them: “You what?”

“You shut up,” Virgil muttered sourly without turning to look at them. His heart was practically shaking in his ribcage, knowing that the human had remembered all along, that Patton had returned home well-aware of the intruder in his walls.

The realization felt chilling, like a thimble of icy water had been dumped down his shirt. Patton hadn’t acted strange at all, hadn’t cast any speculative glances at the walls or scanned any shelves for undersized intruders. The twins and their ghost-hunting equipment clearly hadn’t known the truth, so why would Patton? Virgil hadn’t even suspected.

Who knew what would have happened after Roman and Remus left, and it was only the two of them, with Virgil blissfully unaware of the danger he was in?

Well. Caught like this, he supposed he was going to find out soon.

Patton’s smile faded, carefully watching the way Virgil’s chest was visibly shuddering with too-shallow breaths.

“You thought I froggot, huh?” he said, looking inexplicably sad. “I thought about it while I was in the hospital, and I kinda figured we’re really not supposed to know about you guys. That means it was pretty darn brave of you to try and help me anyways.”

Virgil swallowed, fear sticking in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. He certainly didn’t feel brave.

The other borrower stepped up to be at his side, ignoring Virgil’s reflexive attempt to shoulder them back behind him.

“I suppose the saying is true, then.” They paused, narrowing their eyes in a silent challenge. “No good deed goes unpunished.”

The encompassing flourish they made was a little wobbly, as though their balance was still off, but it got the point across: Patton had recovered from his illness, and they were stuck in a pitcher on his counter.

Virgil’s incredulity at the other borrower was enough to snap him out of the worst of his frozen terror, his head whipping to the side to stare at them.

They were insane. They had to be, using such sharp words and an even sharper tone with a human. This was just about the worst time to instigate an argument. The two of them were stuck in a pitcher on his counter!

Unsurprisingly, neither of the twins looked particularly happy with the accusatory turn the conversation had taken. Patton had been their friend for a long time. They had always jumped at the opportunity to defend him from harm in the past, and Virgil doubted that would change now.

For all their tomfoolery, the two of them could be downright vicious when they were angry. If they were willing to tear fellow humans a new one for messing with Patton, it was gruesome to imagine what they’d do to a pair of borrowers. They’d already been terrifying enough when they’d only been curious about him.

Before either of them could begin to speak, however, Patton nodded once, almost to himself, and pivoted to face his friends.

“Howsabout you two get started on cleaning up the living room so we can settle down and get some proper sleep?” he asked, the request firm enough that it was clearly more of an instruction than a suggestion.

Both twins started protesting immediately, looking extremely put out at the idea of abandoning Patton with their exciting new find. They were talking over each other, the words tangling and becoming an indecipherable mess by the time they reached Virgil, but he was fairly certain he heard phrases like “—but I’ll only lie awake haunted by fairy law and order,” and, “—you can’t keep me away from my new pyromaniac bestie!” in the mix.

“Mhmm, yup, we can discuss all of that later,” Patton replied stoutly, ushering the two of them towards the entrance to the kitchen with insistent sweeping gestures, like a shepherd with his herd. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk over breakfast in the morning, but it’s getting late, so hop to it!”

“We’re being banished with frog puns! This is an amphibian atrocity,” Roman bemoaned.

“Froggin’ unbelievable,” Remus agreed.

However, even with all their complaints, they seemed to understand that Patton wasn’t budging this time, and reluctantly allowed themselves to be shooed out of the kitchen like the world’s noisiest sheep.

At Virgil’s shoulder, the other borrower took the opportunity to lean in while the humans were across the room.

“You ‘didn’t ever get caught,’ hmm?” they asked, still far too smug considering the situation they were in.

A muscle in Virgil’s eye twitched. Despite everything, he wasted a moment considering the merits of trying to inflict another head injury on his fellow captive. They’d been a lot more tolerable with the beginnings of a concussion.

“Do you want to go back to trying to stab each other?” he snapped instead, stepping pointedly away even as he made the thinly-veiled threat. “Because it seems like you want to go back to trying to stab each other.”

“Oh, I’m so terrified,” they replied drolly, crossing their arms. “Won’t someone save me from the horrible Monoxide assassin and his entirely genuine threats?”

Virgil stared at them for a moment, disbelieving. “You know, I think I actually liked you better when you were trying to murder me in cold blood.”

“Don’t lose hope. Maybe I’ll try again later,” they retorted with a dangerous glint in their eye, and then they were both falling silent as Patton approached once more.

Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil caught the contemplative frown that flashed over the other borrower’s face, the only glimpse of their consternation at facing down a human. They may have had plans aplenty to deal with the twins, but Patton was clearly more of an unknown to them.

…Virgil knew Patton. He’d spent enough time watching the human to get attached, grown familiar enough with Patton’s life to cheer on his efforts and fret over his disappointments. He should be able to find the right words to get them out of this, convince his human the way the other borrower had effortlessly fooled Roman, but… he couldn’t.

It was impossible to think up a strategy for this situation. How could he possibly reconcile Patton, the guy who helped organize weekly PTA bake sales and volunteered to look after kittens he was allergic to and cried when he saw roadkill, with a human who knew, who would keep them trapped, who needed to be pleaded with for their release?

How was he supposed to bargain with a monster if he couldn’t even accept that the monster existed?

“I’m sorry if the twins frightened you,” Patton said, voice lowered to a softer volume. “They tend to be very exuberant, but they don’t mean any harm.”

The other borrower looked as though they were on the brink of scoffing at the very idea that they couldn’t handle Roman and Remus, a defensive slant to their shoulders.

“Why?” The word tumbled from Virgil’s mouth without his permission, his shoulders hunching under the undivided focus of Patton’s gaze.

“Why what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly like a confused dog.

“If you knew,” Virgil forced out, fingernails digging into his palms, “why didn’t you tell them? Or— or look for me?”

Understanding settled onto Patton’s expression, and he hummed thoughtfully, as though considering how to phrase his answer.

“If you wanted to be seen, you would have come out and said hi,” he finally said, simply. “You saved my life by calling for help. If you wanted to stay a secret, the least I could do is make sure to keep that secret safe.”

Virgil blinked up at him, trying to force the words into a configuration that made sense. Humans didn’t just let mysteries exist, especially not ones that were so easy to grab ahold of.

“I won’t lie and say I’m not awfully curious about you,” Patton continued, and his hand was reaching out for the handle of the pitcher and surely, this was the moment that it all came crashing down—, “but you can’t force a friendship. Especially not like this!”

Slowly, in gentle increments, the pitcher was shifted to lay on its side, the open end facing away from Patton. It was practically a straight shot to the closest wall entrance, their freedom waiting where the back of the counter met the kitchen wall.

They’d been prepared to make a break for it at the earliest opportunity before, but now, with escape dangled in front of them, both borrowers hesitated. Virgil exchanged a dumbfounded look with the other borrower, trying to stomp down the insane hope bubbling in the back of his mind.

“If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me!” Patton finished, making sure the glass was stable and settled before releasing it and stepping back. “Otherwise, my lips are sealed— and I’ll make sure Roman and Remus keep the secret, too.”

He made a zipping motion over his mouth, eyes crinkled with amusement at the edges, and then turned and walked out of the kitchen without a single glance back.

Virgil hadn’t uttered a single plea, and yet, the path back to the walls was right there. He looped the other borrower’s arm over his shoulder and led them, step by faltering step, across the counter, even scooping his bag up as he went. Nobody came rushing in, nobody stopped them from taking those last few steps into the safety of the walls.

He’d expected to face a monster, and instead he’d been offered kindness, unasked for and freely given.

They were both quiet as they shuffled further into the familiar cramped space, as though a single sound would shatter the illusion of this impossible release. The other borrower pulled away after a moment, their pain of their concussion likely more manageable in the dark. The silence stretched, relief and exhaustion weighing on them in equal measure.

Virgil yawned despite himself, absently wondering if they were going to continue that semi-murderous argument about cults and who wronged who, and if the other borrower would be willing to reschedule it to sometime after they’d slept.

Ahead of them, a third figure stepped out of the shadows, quickly looking them over as though checking that everyone was still intact. Oddly enough, they sort of smelled like gunpowder.

“Hm. That certainly didn’t go according to plan,” they said bluntly, the oversized pack on their back jingling slightly as they stepped forward. “Still, we all survived, so I suppose introductions are in order.”

#sanders sides fic #sanders sides g/t #ts virgil #ts janus #ts remus #ts roman #ts patton #isaih #in sickness and in health #my writing #writing #due to real life issues i'm switching update schedule to twice a month #hopefully

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