Chapter Text
Remus stormed into the next room and- where was he again? He didn't know. Didn't really care. He'd been wandering through the halls of the Subconscious, the Mind Palace, the Imagination, and basically wherever else he could get to- all in the hopes of venting his frustration.
Lot of good that did him.
"It's not fair," he seethed, hot tears pricking at his eyes. What if they started boiling? And they melted his eyes and they drip, drip, dripped down his face and he went blind and- "It's not fair!" He repeated, hands raising to the sides of his head. It was half to cover his ears - as if he could ever block out reality - and half to pull at his hair.
The newest situation Thomas needed help with went smoothly. It was more him over thinking things than anything else. And they all listened to Roman. They all loved Roman. And where was Remus? Always pushed aside! He was ignored, and no one listened, and no one cared, and no one was ever even there, and- and-
It wasn't fair!
He'd tried. He'd tried to be on 'better' behavior this time- though it was more like boring behavior. And still, he got nothing to show for the effort! Perhaps he'd done too much damage the first time around. Perhaps he'd been worse than he'd thought- but it had been the only way for Thomas to pay him any mind! But maybe it'd been too much? Remus had been trying to make Thomas realize he wasn't perfect - that was the plan - but maybe he'd done it a bit too well.
A laugh bubbled its way from his throat, though tears were still falling from his eyes. He bit down on his knuckles, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. It wouldn't do any good for anyone to find him like this. Besides, he didn't really feel like laughing right now anyway.
What if he bit off his fingers? You could, they were just like carrots! What if carrots were all fleshy and bloody and you still had to eat them as a kid? Would that be messed up, or would it be normal?
He clutched at his head, hissing. This. This was why they all hated him. Why they couldn't ever stand him. Even his own thoughts were out of control. They didn't like what they couldn't force into a mold.
What if they melted him down? Then they could pour whatever was left into any mold they liked!
He backed into a wall, and before he knew it, he'd slammed his head back into it with a resounding thump. His skull burst with pain, sparks dancing in his eyes. What if-
He did it again, and this time, his thoughts all stopped for a moment, falling silent in the wake of the hurt.Another bubbling laugh forced its way from his throat. He really was a mess. Usually that would be a compliment, but right now… it just wasn't. But what it was was true.
He was a mess. He was pathetic. He couldn't even control his own thoughts and ideas.
No wonder the others hated him.
No wonder they never listened to him.
No wonder they wanted him to stay far, far, far away from Thomas.
No wonder.
You should just duck out.
He froze.
They don't want you. They certainly don't need you. They have Roman.
No. No, no, no, no. True though it was, he couldn't leave. It would most likely have some effect on Thomas-
Probably a positive one. As long as he has Roman, losing you wouldn't really do a thing, now would it?
A whine escaped his throat as he clamped his hands down on his ears. It didn't help. What if he clawed his ears away?
He bit his tongue. Blood spread through his mouth, all iron and copper and that odd tang of life in the metals. He swallowed it down, gagging as it caught in his throat.
Was he really so bad that he should duck out? He didn't think so, but… maybe the others did? He gripped his wrist with one hand, cutting off the blood flow until his hand went numb.
What if you dug to bone? What if you cut through your veins? What if you slit your wrists? Would anyone miss you? Would anyone wonder where you'd gone? Would anyone care?
What if you hit your head on the wall until your brain slid out? What if you carved out your heart?
He choked back tears, barely noticing the blood welling up from broken skin as his nails dug into his wrists. He didn't feel the pain, even as long scratches grew out from under his fingers. Why did he feel so numb? So empty?
Remus knew he should find Deceit. The other Side was really the only one that Remus could see caring about him (and he pretended that the fact that Roman and Virgil didn't care wasn't painful at all).
Deceit had often talked him down from all his thoughts when he got like this, had sat beside him and listened when everyone else had gone conveniently deaf. He'd let Remus explain his thoughts, let him rant about how frustrating the 'light' Sides were, let him sit and cry or scream or talk. And then he'd help Remus away from it. Away from the frantic, horrible panic. Away from the itching need to draw long cuts into his skin or destroy all the furniture in the room. Deceit helped. So he should probably go find him.
The other Side had practically begged - ordered? - Remus to seek him out when he was feeling this bad; When his thoughts all turned against him, when his hands twitched and scratched at his skin and drew blood and what if your blood was replaced with your tears? Or bleach? Or water? Or lemon juice! Would it sting, like it would in a cut?
You would die. Not that bad of an idea. Maybe you could fall off a cliff, or jump off a building, or get mauled by lions, or-
Remus groaned, fingers flying away from his scratched wrists to dig into his forehead.
"No, no, no," he muttered, shaking his head wildly. "Not today. Just stop for today. Please."
He continued to beg his own thoughts to cease as he slid down the wall, curling up on the ground. Part of him wanted to just go and find Deceit, and then he could help Remus to calm down. The rest of him absolutely hated the idea. To do that, he would have to get up, and search the Subconscious for Deceit, and explain that the only thing that had caused this was the others not listening to him. It was pathetic.
They never listened. This wasn't a new development. So why did it hurt so much…? He couldn't tell Deceit about what had happened. He'd think it was stupid. (Part of him knew that wasn't true, but the thoughts were all just far too loud.)
He felt like screaming. Would that be bad? He didn't really care at this point, but-
Oh. He was already screaming.
When had that started?
He couldn't stop. He didn't think he wanted to. It helped drown the thoughts out- just a little.
Suddenly, something was in front of him - something white and red and gold - and it was grabbing his hands and pulling them away from his now-bleeding forehead.
His scream died in his throat, gaze snapping up to see who it was that had found him. His eyes widened. It was- it was-
"Remus," Roman said, voice slightly frantic. "What's happened? Are you alright?"
Remus couldn't think. Why was Roman here? Why was he talkingto him? Why was he… why did he seem so concerned?
He glanced around, trying to discern where he'd ended up in his walk through the Mindscape. The… the common room? He paled. This was the light side of the mind. He shouldn't be here. They were going to be angry- they’d throw him out (again, it would all happen again)-
"Remus!" Roman snapped, and Remus jumped, head snapping back from the room to see his brother's worried face in front of him. He saw spots of blue, and black, and purple approaching out of the corner of his eyes- the others were coming, they were here, they were here, they would throw him out, would be furious, would- "Remus, you need to breathe! What was it- breathe for four, hold for seven, out for eight?"
Remus nodded shakily - that was Virgil's breathing exercise, he knew it very well - but why was Roman telling it to him? Why was he so worried?
Slowly, he became aware of the ache in his chest. Oh… he wasn't breathing. That's why.
He took a shuddering breath, and-
"What if I just s-stopped breathing? Forever? Just held it in until- until I-" he whimpered, whining softly. "What if I died and n-none of you cared?"
Roman's eyes widened, grip on Remus's hands slipping. He started scratching at his wrists again.
"I could bleed out or jump from a plane or drown- could I get so far underwater my head explodes? No, no- I'd probably die before then. Too bad! You'll have to see my face that way- and it'll be blue and purple and swollen, like a blueberry!" he babbled, ignoring the tears running down his face. Roman looked horrified, frozen in shock and what if you froze to death?
Suddenly, Virgil was beside him.
"Remus," he said, taking Remus's hands in his own to stop him from picking at the already torn skin. His voice was calm for how badly his hands were shaking. "Look at me, okay? I need you to breathe."
Remus nodded shakily, and began breathing in sync with the numbers Virgil repeated over and over and over again. After he deemed Remus's breathing satisfactory, he stopped counting. He seemed a bit relieved, but still looked mostly terrified. That wasn't good- not good at all.
"What happened? What do you need?" Virgil asked, and Remus froze. Was… was he really asking what Remus wanted? Asking what was wrong? Even his thoughts screeched to a halt as he took a moment to process.
After a moment, he found himself smiling despite himself.
"This is… this is just like old times, huh Virge?" he said, voice wavering. "We'd help you, you and Dee would help me… dark- it was so dark back then, remember?"
Virgil glanced at the other sides, who Remus pointedly ignored, before nodding. "Y-yeah. Yeah, I remember."
"And then you left," Remus muttered. "A-and everyone listens to you, and respects you, and cares about you- even Thomas!"
He heard a sharp intake of breath from Roman, like he was realizing where Remus's thoughts were headed. That same clarity was dawning in Virgil's eyes. He glanced towards the others again, and this time Remus followed his gaze. Patton was horrified, staring with wide eyes - and was he scared of him or for him? - and Logan was watching with a slow suspicion creeping across his face. Not of Remus, no - at least, he didn't think it was -, but of what the answer to the problem was.
Remus looked back to Virgil, grinning.
"And it's great! It's great- wonderful even! So, so good… for you," he glanced away. He didn't want to admit it. Didn't want to tell them. He should've just gone to Deceit… The words slipped out anyway. "For us… not so much!"
Roman shifted, catching Remus's attention. His brother looked cautious, and maybe even slightly afraid. Was that… guilt? Was that actual guilt in his eyes?
"Remus…" he said slowly. "Did all of… of this- the panic, a-and the injuries… is it because of what happened with Thomas today?"
Remus flinched away from him, causing Virgil's grip on his hands to tighten. That seemed to be all the answer they needed. There was a sharp intake of breath from Logan, a gasp and- were those tears trailing down Patton's face?
Virgil closed his eyes, and Remus saw the signs of his anxiety skyrocketing. Tense shoulders, shaky breath, stiff movements, all but hiding in his hoodie- all signs of a sudden wave of negativity. Remus had known Virgil for years before he'd left and joined the light sides. He could pick up the signs- unless he was in the midst of his own downward spiral. And hadn't that been a fun day for them all... (Deceit had been exhausted after dealing with the both of them alone.) Luckily, Virgil had calmed Remus down enough to be able to see the signs. They all needed to be careful heading forward now…
All these responses were far from what Remus had expected, but the one most out of place was Roman. His eyes were shining with tears, horror and guilt painted so clearly across his face. A world where feelings are projected on a screen in people's foreheads- but they're only implanted into the lower classes. The rulers use it to root out rebellion. Hm… that one wasn't too bad, was it? Thomas would have no use for it, but maybe the others would like it? It wasn't as… him as his other ideas-
Who are you kidding? They'll never take your ideas, no matter how detached they are from you.
His fingers twitched, itching to dig at his arms again, but Virgil held them tight.
"Remus…" Roman said, voice weak. That wasn't right. Roman was strong and confident and proud- he wasn't quiet or weak. So why did he sound that way…? "I'm… I…"
"It would probably be best to move to a more comfortable place to… discuss this," Logan said, clearly trying to appear unshaken. "We should also attend to your injuries, Remus."
Patton was crying. Roman was speechless. Logan was uncomfortable. Virgil was panicking. What… what had he done wrong?
But, no, this wasn't quite the same as other times. This was different- it was weird. It almost seemed like they- ...it almost seemed like they cared. But, that was ridiculous wasn't it?
Virgil stood, tugging gently on his hands.
"C'mon," he muttered. "Let's get you to the couch."
His mind refused to operate. His thoughts stuttered in his head. What were they… they actually wanted to talk? To him? He didn't get it. Where was the joke? What was he missing?
He let Virgil pull him to his feet, and followed when the other Side gently led him to the couch. Logan and Patton slipped out of the room, saying something about getting bandages. Virgil didn't let go of Remus's hands, even after they sat down. Remus grinned.
"Y'know, Virgey…" he said, smiling wider at the wary distrust that crossed into Virgil's face. "Usually, you don't hold someone's hand so long unless they're dying, or it's a date! And I don't think I'm dying, so…"
Virgil's face turned red.
"It isn't- it's not like that. I'm only doing it so you don't… don't hurt yourself again," he said sharply. Remus sobered.
"So. I am dying, then."
Roman plopped down onto the cushion next to his.
"Don't say that," he snapped. The emotion in his voice was surprising. "You aren't allowed to die, alright?"
Remus snorted. "Like you really care."
Roman looked like he'd been slapped. "You're my brother! Of course I care-"
Remus stood suddenly, spinning around to face them, managing to surprise Virgil enough that he could pull his hands away. His wrists stung.
"Don't," he snarled. Roman's mouth snapped shut, his eyes widening. "Don't you dare say that to me- not unless you actually mean it."
Roman stared for a moment, mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the right words, before he finally managed to speak.
"I do mean it!" he said. "I-I might not show it, and I've treated you poorly, but I do care about you. I don't want you to get hurt."
Remus's teeth ground together until they ached- what if they cracked and fell out? What if you pulled them out? What if you had to chew on teeth? Which ones would break first- yours, or the ones you're eating?
"No," he said. "You don't. If you cared then you wouldn't ignore me! You wouldn't lock me up in the 'evil' part of the mind, and leave me there to rot! You wouldn't have cast me out! You would listen and help and care and- and-" He choked on air, tears burning his eyes. "You hate me. You all hate me. You hate me, you hate me, you-"
He sank to his knees, curling in on himself. His fingers dug into his arms, but not drawing blood. Not this time. He kept muttering, repeating the words 'you hate me' over and over and over, because that's what all the evidence suggested. That's what his thoughts whispered.
So he whispered it too.
There was a knock in the doorway, and footsteps approaching, but he didn't look up. There were a few words exchanged between them all, but they passed right over his head. Someone crouched beside him. He stopped muttering, breath catching in his throat.
"Remus," Logan said softly. "Can you look at me?"
He shook his head. He didn't want to.
"Alright. That's alright," he said. Remus blinked, confused. Was it really? Logan - Logic - wouldn't sugarcoat things, right? He would say something if it wasn't true. Actually, no. He wouldn't say something that didn't have a purpose. So what was the goal here? To put Remus at ease? Why? "Is there something we can do for you? To make you more comfortable during this conversation?"
Remus grimaced. So that was it. They wanted their happy little conversation so that they could move on without guilt. They'll just throw him out again afterwards...
"I'd rather get it over with. Then I can go home." Remus muttered, shifting slightly so he could sit with his head resting on his knees.
Patton spoke up from somewhere to his left.
"What do you mean, kiddo?" he asked, still a bit choked up. The nickname sent a jolt of pain through Remus's chest. That name was only for the people Patton cared about. It had never been for him. So why…?
"Just admit it," Remus spat. "You don't really want to talk to me, you just want to assure yourselves that you tried. So please, just get on with it."
He heard soft sounds of protest from both Patton and Roman, but it was Logan who spoke.
"Why do you think that?" he asked calmly. "Perhaps if you shared your thoughts, it would be easier for us to find a solution."
A laugh bubbled out of Remus's throat, growing louder and wilder the longer it went on. He threw his head back as he laughed and gasped for breath. When the outburst finally died down, he looked at Logan with a dull smile on his face.
"You really want me to spell it all out?" he asked bitterly. Logan hesitated for a moment, before he nodded. Remus grinned. "Of course. Of course you do…"
Logan glanced towards each of the others in turn, as if asking for assistance, but none of them knew what to say. Logan cleared his throat, looking back to Remus and meeting his gaze.
"Yes, I do. I think it would be… beneficial," he said softly, "if we know why you think we… we hate you, we will be able to assist you better."
Remus ground his teeth together again, shutting his eyes tight. Why? Why? He just didn't understand. He didn't want to tell them what they already knew. He didn't want to. But they wouldn't leave him alone until he did.
"Fine. I'll recap the facts for you," Remus hissed, opening his eyes as he stood up on trembling legs. He fixed his gaze on Patton first. "Our dear little heart here is afraid of me. He hates what I am and what I do. He hates that I influence Thomas to be a bad person. If you care to recall, it was morality that split Creativity in the first place. He took the parts he wanted-" he glanced at Roman for a moment, before his eyes snapped back to Patton's increasingly horrified face- "and he cast away the rotten bits into the deepest, darkest place he could. He's always hated me, and feared me, and been disgusted by what he himself made me into."
His voice was beginning to shake. Everyone's eyes had widened - it almost looked like you could just pop them out - and Patton was crying again, silently sobbing. They all opened their mouths as one, probably to defend Patton, but Remus didn't want to hear it. He turned on Virgil, who's face paled considerably as their eyes met.
"Virgil, your dear stormcloud," he began. The words tasted bitter in his mouth, "was one of us. And he left us behind. He found somewhere new and abandoned the rest of us, pretended he didn't even know us! You heard him say it- he's always been scared of me. He never wanted me around, and he isn't going to start now! He doesn't fear me anymore? Great! But he still hates us."
Virgil had curled in on himself, eyes wide. He didn't even try to defend himself. Remus's attention snapped towards Logan, who had an unreadable expression on his face.
"And Logic!" Remus crowed. "I defy that. What about me makes any sense? What about me is reasonable? What part of me isn't unnecessary, messy, and a danger to Thomas? You made it clear that you don't like dealing with me! You'd rather I not be here! You only allow it because repression would just make it worse!"
Remus was crying. He hadn't realized how many tears were flowing down his cheeks until now. His hands were trembling. His head hurt. There was only one person left.
He turned to Roman.
"And you," he snarled. It was an unfamiliar action, the words harsh and grating and nothing like how he was supposed to be. Was he broken? Was he damaging himself? "You cast me out. Even in the Imagination, you would have to go through an entire quest to get to my realm- all because you didn't want it to ruin your perfect little world.
"It's the same with this, isn't it? You want me far away from you, and Thomas, and the light. I'm the funhouse mirror, remember? Everything that you hate! A twisted, awful mess of a reflection that you are terrified could be real- and guess what? I am! It's just that you never pay enough attention to me to notice!
"I'm the ugly, horrid, disgusting thing that hides beneath your bed. The thing you're always coming up with plans to keep away. I'm the monster you need to vanquish so you can move on, assured that you're the good one, the perfect one, the one that Thomas actually wants and not the- the dumpster fire that he needs to avoid!
"I- I'm… I'm just the extra. I'm the backup that's messed up. The understudy that doesn't even know the lines," Remus grinned weakly, tears and snot dripping into his mouth, coating it with salt. He grimaced, wiping at his face with a sleeve as he shook his head. "I'm… I'm just the bad guy."
Something white and red slammed into him, and wrapped its arms around him, and it took a moment for Remus to process that it was Roman. And… he was hugging him?
"Remus," Roman said, voice pained. Remus was frozen, eyes wide. "I… I am so, so sorry. I should never have treated you the way I did. I never hated you- I just… I was scared. I didn't know what to do, so I pushed you away. I can't express how sorry I am that you… that you've been hurting this whole time, and I never stopped to think-"
He cut himself off. Remus couldn't breathe. Was this… was this a lie? He wished Deceit were here. He'd be able to tell.
Another pair of arms wrapped around him, and his head whipped around to see that Patton of all people - eyes and nose red, tears still streaming down his face - was hugging him.
"I…" Patton trailed off, before starting again. "I can't say that I'm not… scared. But I shouldn't- I shouldn't have pushed you away like that. I tried so hard to accept Virgil, and I should've been there for you too. You… you do scare me, a-and I'm worried that Thomas might get hurt, and I really don't like some of your ideas- but I do not hate you. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I did."
Remus didn't understand. This wasn't… this couldn't be happening, could it? Logan cleared his throat, placing a hand on Remus's shoulder.
"I would like to offer my opinions as well, if that's alright?" he asked. Remus stared at him for a moment, before nodding hesitantly. Maybe Logan would actually make sense. The other side smiled slightly. "Well, first of all, I'd just like to say falsehood."
Remus blinked. "What…?"
Logan adjusted his glasses, removing his hand from Remus's shoulder.
"Falsehood. What you said regarding me is entirely false. I do not only 'allow' you because it is the only way to deal with you on our own. You are a vital part of Thomas, just as all of us are. Without you, he'd be missing a major part of himself," Logan shrugged slightly, then tilted his head, eying Remus. "Am I correct in assuming that you suffer from intrusive thoughts yourself?"
Remus swallowed, before nodding.
"And you keep the majority away from Thomas, correct?" Logan asked. Remus nodded again. There were many thoughts in his head that he didn't dare utter to Thomas. Even he could see the harm it could do. "While you do encompass intrusive thoughts, you filter them out into mostly harmless ones- such as dropping his phone into the water. There are others that are worse - such as killing his brother or jumping out of vehicles - that you allow, but they are far tamer than I am certain that you could inflict, and are few and far in between.
"Furthermore, you also encompass part of creativity. I believe a zombie apocalypse scenario better fits into your part of the mind than Roman's, correct?"
Roman huffed slightly, pulling away from Remus - the hug was getting awkward anyway, so that was fine - and nodded. Patton backed away as well.
"As always, Specs, your deductive ability is unmatched," Roman muttered, crossing his arms in annoyance. Remus tilted his head, confused. What did this have to do with anything? Logan seemed pleased, though, so the answer must be what he wanted.
"You are aware that such scenarios have been extremely popular for years, right?" he said it as a question, but didn't wait for a response before he continued. "There are many things that you can offer that are quite appreciated by many. Though Thomas isn't going to use every idea you have, there are sure to be times when either a collaborative effort between you and Roman, or even you on your own, would be appreciated. Your influence has gone into many of his short videos already."
Remus didn't understand. Logan seemed to realize this, and sighed, adjusting his glasses.
"While you can be a bit much - and so can we all - you are also an important part of Thomas. I do not understand most of what you - either of you - do, but I do not hate you, and would rather you be here than not. Besides, it isn't only you that can harm Thomas in certain doses or situations. All of us can be more harm than good sometimes. You are welcome, and you are appreciated."
Remus shook his head wildly. No. That couldn't be right. Everything always pointed to them hating him. Had he been wrong? He couldn't have been. But, maybe…
"...It wasn't you," Virgil muttered. Remus's head snapped towards him, neck popping.
"W-what?" he asked, voice cracking. Virgil huddled in on himself.
"It… it wasn't you," he repeated. "I was scared of you, sure, but… you're not the reason I left. I hated a lot of things back then, but you weren't really one of them. And… When you showed up, you acted like you were trying to hurt Thomas. After Logan explained more about you, it's…" He grimaced, trailing off. Virgil had never been touchy-feely. The fact that he'd even said this much was shocking, and Remus was desperately holding back any outbursts that might interrupt. Virgil sighed. "Look, just… take the fact I don't hate you and move on?"
Remus pouted, and Virgil groaned.
"Honestly, you're almost more attention seeking than Roman is. Drama kings, the both of you."
The brothers glanced at each other, unsure. Remus… Remus didn't hate Roman, but he couldn't quite believe that Roman didn't hate him.
Logan coughed softly.
"Now that that's all out of the way… may I bandage your wrists?" he asked. Remus blinked, looking down at his hands. His wrists were covered in dried blood, though the actual scratches were still oozing slightly.
"O-oh… if you want to?"
Logan nodded and led him to the couch. He sat slowly, as if his mind was still trying to catch up- like his thoughts were still loading. Ha! And he'd thought that Logan was supposed to be the robot.
Logan retrieved a forgotten first aid kit from the coffee table, taking out a wet wipe, disinfectant, and some bandages. The cleaner stung as Logan washed away the blood, but Remus forced himself to stay still.
The disinfectant was worse, but it smelled good. To him, at least. He saw Virgil wrinkle his nose out of the corner of his eye, so maybe this was just a him thing. Speaking of Virgil, though…
"I was," he found himself saying, turning his head to look at the other Side. Virgil blinked.
"Uh… what?"
"I… I was. Trying to hurt Thomas, I mean," he said. Virgil's eyes hardened, and he sat up straighter, but Logan held up a hand.
"Let him explain," he said. Remus hesitated, before he began speaking.
"I was trying to be awful. I was even worse than usual- on purpose. Because… because we wanted Thomas to realize he isn't as perfect as… as Patton likes to pretend. I thought if I was a bit… extra, then he might realize that… that we actually contribute to him and who he is. That we aren't just garbage to be thrown away."
Virgil was still tense, but he didn't look like he was going to bite his head off, at least. That was good. His jaw would break, having to fit a whole head inside his mouth. Remus didn't think he would taste very good either.
The room was quiet.
Remus was beginning to think that admitting that had been a mistake. Maybe that was the evidence they needed to throw him out with no remorse. Maybe they would have felt guilty and let him stay for a while, and now he'd ruined that chance. He stared down at the couch cushions, not wanting to see the looks on everyone's faces.
Logan broke the silence. Again. He did that a lot.
"Done. Your forehead isn't bad, they'll probably fade in a few minutes," he said. Injuries were weird in the Mindscape. They just slowly faded out of existence. It was different from healing, apparently, but Remus didn't really get how. It was faster, though, so there was that.
"...Thank you," he said. Logan nodded, standing up with the first aid kit. He looked over at Patton and Roman. They had sat down on two of the chairs scattered throughout the room.
"Patton?"
Patton jumped, then nodded. He stood and turned to Remus, a soft smile on his face.
"Kiddo, we were about to make a late lunch before… before all this," he started, and Remus felt ice form in his stomach. This was it. They were kicking him out again. It was going to happen eventually... "I was thinking… maybe you'd like to join us?"
Remus opened his mouth to say that he'd go without trouble, but-
"What?" he asked. Patton bit his lip, glancing away for a moment before looking back to him.
"Do you want to have lunch with us? It's totally fine if you don't want to, just-"
"You want me to stay?" Remus asked, shocked. It felt like he'd been slapped. Only, with positivity? And disbelief. Plenty of disbelief had been thrown into the hit as well.
Patton nodded, though not before a second's hesitation. "Yes. I think it would be a good idea."
Remus weighed the possibility. He had hoped for something like this to happen someday, but he didn't think it would really happen. He'd just mess it up. Say or do something wrong. Still… it hurt to think about turning the offer down. He swallowed, pushing away the anxiety bubbling in his stomach. That was Virgil's thing, after all.
"I think… I think I'd like that," he said.