Virgil and Roman had a system, a routine of some sort. If Virgil planned to regress and wanted to be in Roman’s company, he’d mention something in passing (indirectly, if the others were around). If Roman was available that night, he’d nod, and Virgil would go to his room when he regressed. If something came up, Roman would leave a note or sign on his door, and Virgil would find his way back to his own room to color or play by himself. It was fine.
The shadows in his room were very scary tonight.
So when he saw on Roman’s door a sign that he was busy, Virgil tried not to get upset. But he still didn’t want to go back to his room.
Instead he walked down that halls, mostly to keep himself occupied, and then he spotted Logan’s door.
He wasn’t going to knock, he decided. He wasn’t going to bother the logical Side. He was probably busy, or even asleep. Well, he should be asleep, Virgil amended in his thoughts.
Virgil opted for just sitting next to the door.
Maybe he’d check his room to make sure the shadows went away soon.
After a few minutes, he closed his eyes and let his head rest on the wall. He started doze off.
The door opened and Logan stepped out. He would not have noticed the smaller Side, if it were not for the startled noise he’d made at Logan’s appearance.
Logan turned to look at the source. “Virgil?”
Virgil managed to stop the hand that was gravitating towards his mouth and waved with it.
“Is Roman not available?” Logan asked.
Vaguely, Virgil was aware that Logan was – well, not trying to get rid of him, per se. But something close to it. He shook his head, knees pulled up to his chest. “Busy,” he said quietly.
“Then perhaps I could take you to Patton’s room? He is most likely more suited for—”
“No!” Virgil said quickly, louder than he’d intended to and accidentally interrupting Logan. He bit his lip when the other frowned. He hadn’t meant to do that. He just still didn’t want Patton to know. He looked down, away from Logan’s half-confused, half-annoyed expression.
“I don’t—” Logan cut himself off. I don’t know, Virgil could tell he was going to say. Silence followed. He could see Logan trying to figure this out.
“Where you going?”
“Right now? I was going to the kitchen to make tea.”
“Can I come?”
Logan hesitated. “I suppose there’s no reason you shouldn’t,” he said, so Virgil stood up from his place on the floor and followed Logan to the kitchen.
Virgil stood in the kitchen, near a wall, watching Logan move around the kitchen and grab things for the tea. He put his fingers in his mouth.
“That’s… quite unsanitary, Virgil,” Logan said, moving to take Virgil’s hand away from his mouth, but then he stopped, pulling back. He sighed. “At least wash your hands.”
So Virgil moved a chair over, with Logan’s help, to the sink. He stood on the chair to wash his hands, and once his hands were dry, he went back to nibbling on his fingers. Logan shook his head slightly, not knowing what to do with him.
He set his tea aside to cool, before looking back at Virgil. He may have said age regression wasn’t abnormal when he’d learned about Virgil’s habits, but it still secretly baffled him. He wasn’t sure what about it baffled him, but it did.
Virgil looked up and saw Logan watching, but all he mumbled was, “Goldfish?”
“Goldfish?” Then, “Oh, the crackers.” Not the healthiest snack, but Logan was very much out of his element. He searched through the cabinets. “It appears we don’t have any.”
Virgil frowned and his lip trembled.
“Um,” Logan said, quickly trying to remedy the situation. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle a crying child. He opened the refrigerator and scanned its contents. “We have… carrot sticks?” He looked over at the boy.
Virgil stopped looking so upset and he hummed, nodding.
Logan handed a few over, crisis averted. His tea, by now, had cooled enough to drink. He picked up his cup of tea. “I’m… returning to my room, now,” he said.
Virgil hopped up and made to follow him, munching on a carrot stick.
Logan hesitated when they’d gotten back to his room. But Virgil simply plopped himself down next to the door, where he had been when at first, and Logan was secretly glad he didn’t have to make the decision. He went inside and closed the door.
He set his tea down and sat back down in his chair, ready to get back to what he had been doing before he left to get himself some tea.
But again, Logan hesitated. He couldn’t just leave Virgil out there, could he? He may be a Side, but he was currently, and physically, a child. But it wasn’t like any harm would come to him just outside his door...
He sighed, and, after a minute, he stood and walked to the door. He opened the door and Virgil was still sitting there, chewing on a carrot stick. The boy looked up.
“Would you like to come in?” Logan asked.
Virgil stared at him for a few moments before nodding, getting up and walking into the room.
Virgil glanced around once Logan closed the door behind him. It was roomy. The room was a big, almost open space. There was a desk full of papers and books pushed up against a wall, and a bed with a starry spread not touching any of the walls. Bookshelves lined a wall, but they seemed to stretch and lead outside of the area, and when he looked up, he saw that the ceiling was littered with stars. Virgil wondered if it matched the night sky outside.
“Virgil?” Virgil looked at Logan, meeting his eyes momentarily before glancing back up. “Would you like a chair?”
Virgil didn’t reply, still staring at the ceiling for a few moments more, before turning to look at Logan again and pointing at the bed.
There was a moment of uncertainty before Logan relented, “If you are finished with your food, I suppose there is no reason you shouldn’t be on the bed.” At this, Virgil shoved the last of his carrot stick in his mouth and tried climbing onto the bed. Logan assisted him before going back to his desk. He looked over at Virgil every so often.
“Stars,” he heard Virgil mumble as the boy stared up at the ceiling. “Lo?”
Logan looked over at him, then at the ceiling. “Are you asking me to talk about the stars?”
Virgil nodded vigorously.
Logan glanced up at the ceiling, then back to the schedule he was making. He paused. “What do you want to know?”
“Story,” Logan repeated slowly. He looked up at the ceiling, at the stars and various constellations he had decided to keep.
“Teach me,” Virgil said, almost a proper sentence.
“You would like to know about to stars...,” Logan mused, standing up, and Virgil nodded. Logan stopped in a moment of contemplation. “Would you like to see something, Virgil?”
Virgil glanced over at him, curiously. Whatever Logan was asking him he wanted to see seemed important. He nodded. With Logan’s help he got down, off the bed, and he held onto his hand as they walked. The bookshelves did lead elsewhere; it was like a maze of some sort.
Virgil followed him down the hallway of bookshelves, curiously. The maze gave way to a new open space, but in this he could feel a gentle breeze. He could feel grass under his feet. The stars were bright, clear, and plenty.
Logan let go of his hand and sat near the middle of the grassy area. “Would you sit with me?” Logan asked, holding his hand out in an almost invitation.
Virgil nodded and walked to him. He sat, running his hands over the grass for a moment, and then lay down, staring up at the sky. “Talk?” he asked again.
“Very well.” Logan laid next to him and raised his hand, to point at a group of stars. “Perhaps we could start with the constellations. Pegasus, for one.” He traced a shape in the stars. “The winged horse. They come from Mediterranean and Greek mythology.”
Virgil rested his head against Logan’s unoccupied arm, holding onto it and watching and listening as Logan pointed out stars that made specific constellations and mentioned things about them. Even though there was a light breeze, he felt comfortably warm.
Logan had started to talk about the zodiac when he glanced at Virgil to check on him. Virgil’s grip on him had lessened, and the child seemed to have fallen asleep. “Oh.”
He brushed Virgil’s hair out of his face. Even asleep and as a child, Virgil had shadows under his eyes, he noticed with a slight frown. For a moment, he wondered about that, before letting the thought go.
Logan looked back up at the stars for a few minutes. He didn’t know what to do with a sleeping child. This was not how he’d expected his night to go. Uncertainty was why he preferred schedules. (Well, that, and it made things easier to get done if they were planned out).
In the end, he supposed it wouldn’t be the worst thing to sleep out here, just for tonight.