TW: Blood, violence, suffocation

Logan knocked on the door to the Hart household.

Over the past three months, Logan had been stopping by regularly to check in on
Roman and help Mr. Hart manage the household. He did things like make Roman
dinner, wash dishes, do laundry, whatever Mr. Hart needed help with.

Logan’s boyfriend was usually out helping that investigator, so he was rarely home
whenever Roman visited. He didn’t think too much of it. If he was in Roman’s shoes,
he would probably put everything else on the backburner too.

That was why, when Roman opened the door, Logan was surprised.

“Lo?” Roman tilted his head. “What are you doing here?”

Logan frowned, bringing a hand up to Roman’s cheek. There were dried tear tracks on his face, though it looked like they hadn’t been dry for long. “What’s wrong?” He asked gently.

Roman pursed his lips, leaning into Logan’s touch. “I’m not allowed to look for Remus
anymore.” He mumbled.

Logan frowned. “What? Why?” He questioned. “What happened?”

Roman smiled bitterly. “Come inside, it’s hot out here.” He took Logan’s hand from where it laid on his cheek, and pulled him inside the house.

The two of them sat down on the couch, and Logan quickly held Roman’s hand as the latter took a deep breath.

“My dad, he’s--I don’t know.” Roman shook his head. “He lied to Investigator Storm
about when Remus went missing.”

Logan furrowed his brow. “What?”

“I tried to confront him, but he just told me I wasn’t allowed to work with Investigator Storm anymore.” Roman told him, expression crumbling. “I don’t know
what to do.”

Logan frowned, rubbing his thumb against Roman’s knuckles. “Have you eaten today?
I’ll make you something.” He murmured. “Just relax.” He smiled gently, before
standing up and going to the kitchen.

He opened the pantry door, deciding to check and see what they had.

There were absolutely no cans in the pantry.

Logan found that odd.

“Roman?” He called back into the living room. “What happened to all that canned
food your dad bought?”

“What? He never bought any canned food. We don’t eat that.” Roman responded,
sounding entirely confused.

Logan furrowed his brows. “Then what…?” He murmured to himself, thoroughly
perplexed.

Why had Patton bought all that? And what did he do with it?

He silently grabbed a box of spaghetti pasta, deciding to address his concerns later.

“So, are you really going to stop seeing Investigator Storm?” Logan asked, grabbing a pot out of the pantry and filling it with water.

“I already have.” Roman responded, a bittersweet smile staining his voice. “I wished him the best of luck, and left it at that.” He sighed. “It’s all my fault, anyways. I pushed my dad too far, I accused him of doing the unthinkable. He had a right to be mad at me.”

Logan hummed, turning the stove on. “Still, you were correct in being upset. Lying to
a detective, that’s…well, that doesn’t put him in the most innocent of light.” He
grabbed a salt shaker, pouring a bit into his hand and putting it in the water.

“My dad would never hurt Remus.” Roman asserted, walking into the kitchen so Logan could see the certainty in his expression. “He would never. I’m sure he had his reasons for lying.”

Logan frowned, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “Still, you can’t
dismiss the possibility that--”

“I know my dad, Logan. I know him better than you ever will.” Roman interjected,
firm in his resolve. “He is a good man, who loves his children. He wouldn’t hurt him.”

“Hasn’t he already, though?” Logan pressed, staring blankly at the tiled floor. “He slapped Remus just a few months ago. Weeks before he went missing, if I recall
correctly. Who’s to say that was the end of it? Who’s to say Patton didn’t take it too
far by accident, and made an irreversible mistake--?”

Roman slammed his hand on the counter.
Logan jumped, eyes snapping back to his boyfriend.

Roman looked incredibly upset, eyes glassy with tears but brow furrowed in anger. “I
can’t let you stand there and slander my father.”

Logan blinked, stunned. “I didn’t mean to offend. I’m just trying to say that you can’t
rule out the possibility--”

“I know him, Logan.” Roman grit out, practically shaking. “I know him.”

Logan sighed. “Ro--”

“You’re accusing my father of killing my brother.” Roman sneered, wrapping his arms around himself. “And I will not stand for it.”

Logan pursed his lips. “...Alright, Ro.” He mumbled, turning back to water. He grabbed some pasta from the box, throwing it into the pot. “I’m sorry.”

He could almost hear Roman soften, the taller boy walking forward and wrapping his arms around Logan’s waist from behind. “I don’t want to fight.” He murmured weakly, burying his face in Logan’s shoulder.

“I know. We’re not fighting.” Logan hummed, grabbing a wooden spoon and stirring the pasta.

“Please don’t be upset with me.” Roman whispered.

Logan sighed fondly. “I’m not.” He told him, turning so that the two of them were face to face. “I understand that this is hard for you, Ro, I really do. I’m doing my best to be here for you, and I’m sorry for pressing you.”

Roman smiled halfheartedly, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you.”

Logan’s heart swelled, and the corners of his mouth quirked up unconsciously. “I love you too.”

“I’m sorry for pushing you away.” Roman lamented.

“You don’t need to apologize.” Logan shook his head, gently pressing a kiss to the taller boy’s lips. He turned back to the pasta, continuing to stir.

“I haven’t been fair to you. I’m causing everyone to worry about me, when Remus is who they should be worried about.” He buried his face back into Logan’s shoulder.
“I’m selfish.”

“You are not selfish.” Logan protested immediately. “In fact, you’re one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met in my whole life.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.” Logan shook his head.

“I can’t even look for my brother, because I pushed my father like a selfish brat.” Roman croaked, arms tightening. “I’m the worst person in the world.”

Logan pursed his lips, heart practically shattering at the words. “...What if…” He
stopped himself. “Nevermind.”

“What if what?” Roman asked, shifting so that his chin was resting on Logan’s
shoulder.

“What if I were to work with Investigator Storm for you?” Logan offered, watching the spoon as it swirled in the water.

Roman’s breath hitched. “I couldn’t ask you to do that--”

“You wouldn’t be asking, I’d be volunteering.” Logan countered. “I’d tell you everything I learned. That way, Investigator Berry would still be receiving help.”

Roman fell silent, seeming to be contemplating the offer. “You are very smart.” He muttered under his breath. “You’d probably be more likely to find him than me.”

“I want to help.” Logan told him earnestly. “Remus and I may not be close, but I still
see him as someone dear to me, because he’s someone dear to you.”

Roman practically melted. “Lo…”

“I want you to be happy.” Logan firmly nodded.

Roman smiled, burying his red face in Logan’s shoulder again. “How did I get so
lucky?” He murmured.

Logan huffed out a little laugh.

---

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Remus felt like he was going insane.

The clock provided him with something to look at other than the walls, and it let him
know what the time was.

But that ticking was horrible, reverberating around the silent room.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

He was tempted to throw one of his empty cans at it, but the risk of breaking it kept
him in place.

So, instead, he just stared at it apathetically.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Had he ever noticed a clock’s ticking so intensely before this? Oftentimes, it would
fade into the background, drowned out by his thoughts or a conversation taking place.

But he was alone, and the ticking was the only thing he could think about.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The hour hand pointed to eight, while the minute hand pointed to four.

But was it in the morning, or at night?

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Why were they called hands anyway?

They surely didn’t look like hands. Arms seemed more fitting than hands.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Half of him regretted asking for it, while the other half was immensely thankful. The lack of knowing scared him more than anything. Not knowing when Patton was coming next, not knowing if he would wake up, not knowing if his father could snap one day and get rid of him. The clock made him feel like he had just a bit of control.

Then again, Patton could’ve easily set it to the wrong time.

But he wouldn’t do that, would he? Surely, that was just a little too heartless.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

He could never be sure.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

He didn’t think Patton would do that to him.

Right?

Tick.

Tok.

Tick.

Tock.

It would be ridiculously easy to trick Remus.

He had no way of confirming whether or not it actually was night or day. All of his
trust regarding the subject was being placed in the clock.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

But why would Patton lie to him? He had no reason to.

Maybe he was telling the truth.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Or perhaps that was just what Patton wanted him to think.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

To--

The door opened.

Remus tore his gaze from the clock.

Patton smiled at him. “Hello, Remus.”

“Hi, Patton.” Remus croaked. The name felt disgusting on his tongue, and he struggled to associate it with his father’s face.

“You look tired.” Patton commented, walking closer.

“The ticking keeps me awake.” Remus mumbled, looking back at the clock. “It’s
loud.”

“You’re the one who asked for it.” Patton reminded him. “I just did as you requested.”

Remus looked at the ground. “I know.” He muttered dully.

Patton hummed, looking at the clock. “Do you want me to take it away?”

“No.” Remus snapped his head back up, staring up at his father with wide eyes.
“Leave it. Please.”

Patton chuckled. “Alright.” He ran a hand through Remus’ hair, as the younger looked down. “You’re very confusing, y’know. You say you don’t like the ticking, but you
don’t want it to stop. Janus must’ve had a hard time with you.”

Remus didn’t like it when his father brought up Janus. He got the feeling that was the whole reason Patton ever brought him up, to get under his son’s skin.

Or maybe it was so Remus would compare Patton and Janus in his head, making it
harder to view him as a father figure.

Well, Remus was already struggling to see him as one, so if that was the case, he
didn’t need to continue it.

“I actually liked Janus’ company.” Remus mumbled out of spite.

There was a moment of silence.
Remus inhaled shakily. “I’m sor--”

Patton suddenly grabbed Remus' hair and yanked it harshly. The younger yelped a bit, as his father pulled him to his feet.

“You still haven’t learned anything.” Patton looked to be almost pitying him. “I don’t
understand, do you want to stay down here?”
“No,” Remus mumbled.

“No.” Patton echoed, releasing Remus’ hair. He shook his head in irritation, then
punched his son in the face.

His eyes watered as he hit the ground, glaring down at it as if it was responsible for all his problems. “I just want to go outside.” Remus whimpered pathetically.

Patton kicked him in the stomach, causing the air in Remus’ lungs to practically
vanish. “It’s your fault you can’t go outside.” Patton sneered.

Remus sobbed as Patton began kicking him relentlessly, begging to no one in particular for help. “Help--Help me--Please--Someone--!”

“Shut up!” Patton screamed, climbing on top of him and slamming his head into the
concrete floor.

Remus’ vision swam, and he weakly tried to push Patton away. “Get off! Get off of
me!”

Patton slammed his head into the concrete again.

Remus felt dizzy and his ears were ringing, but he still kept fighting. “No, no, no,
no--!”

Patton slammed his head into the concrete one more time.

A loud crack rang throughout the room.
Remus’ vision began to dull, a sea of red suddenly forming around his head. His hands fell limply to the ground, head casting off to the side.

Patton breathed heavily. “I didn’t think I’d have to resort to this, but you’ve left me
no choice.”

Patton stood up and walked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Remus felt fuzzy, like his whole body was tingling.

Then, without warning, the lights turned off.

Air stopped coming through the vent on the wall.

Patton had turned the power in the room off.

Remus gasped. There was no air coming from the vents anymore. He needed air. He needed air--

Somehow, he managed to maneuver himself so that he was lying on his stomach.

He desperately dragged himself over to the air vent, gasping for breath. The sea of
red followed him, making a trail behind him as he went.

His eyesight was rapidly dimming, his eyes struggling to focus.

He reached the air vent, feeling a small stream of air coming through. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, falling limp in front of the vent.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

And the clock ticked on.

---

Janus knocked on the door.

When it opened, Remy Almos, some guy from Janus’ sixth period, opened the door.
“Janus! You made it!”

The music inside the house was loud, Remy having to yell over it.

“I made it.” Janus shrugged apathetically, staring blankly at him.

“I thought you didn’t like parties.” Remy teased a bit, smirking.

“I’m just here to drink.” Janus shoved past him, walking inside.

The music was even louder once he was actually in the crowd, causing him to cringe.

On a normal Saturday night, he would be doing something with Remus. Watching a
movie, going to the park, eating at a restaurant, anything they wanted. In his current situation, though, that was pretty much impossible.

He pushed through the crowd, straight to where the drinks were. It was funny, in a
way. Without Remus, Janus had become exactly what Patton thought he was. How
ironic was that?

He grabbed a bottle of whiskey, opening it and walking over to the couch that was
nearby.

He took a sip, feeling the way it burned on the way down. He sighed, before taking
five big gulps of it. It wasn’t good whiskey, not by any means, but he didn’t really
care.

Janus blinked a bit, already feeling himself becoming tipsy. He had always been a
lightweight, so he wasn’t too surprised.

“Hi.”

Some random guy sat down next to him, and Janus glanced over blankly. “Hi?” He
muttered, taking another swig.

“Janus, right? We have AP Psychology together.” The guy told him, blowing a piece of blond hair from his face. “I’m Emile.” He smiled. “You come to these often?”

“This isn’t my usual scene.” Janus denied, snorting.

“Ah, I see.” Emile nodded, light brown eyes shifting away from him. “Me neither.” He
admitted. “I owed Remy one, though. I can tell you don’t really like this atmosphere
either.”

“What do you want?” Janus sighed.

“Just to talk.” Emile shrugged. “I’ve been bored out of my mind.”

“Well, I came here to drown my sorrows in alcohol.” Janus smiled bitterly. “I doubt
my conversation will be very engaging.”

“That’s fine.” Emile told him. “I’m good at talking to myself.”

“Yippee.” Janus cheered sarcastically, bringing the bottle back up to his lips.

“Remy has been my best friend for as long as I can remember.” Emile began, ignoring
Janus’ sour mood. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.” He chuckled a bit. “You
can’t tell him that.”

“I don’t care enough to.” Janus hummed.

“Remy talks about how cool he thinks you are all the time.” Emile said. “You and
Remus, he looks up to you two.”

Janus was a bit surprised at that. He and Remus had rarely exchanged words with
Remy. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah.” Emile nodded. “When we were freshmen, and you were sophomores, he
thought you were the coolest people on the planet. He’s been trying to get you to go
to one of his parties for years.”

Janus felt kinda bad about being so short with Remy earlier. “Is that so?” Janus
hummed. “Well, that’s flattering. I didn’t think anyone knew we existed.”

Emile smiled. “On the first day, Remy had been so nervous about high school. You guys had been walking through the halls, and he accidentally bumped into you. He was terrified, thinking you were gonna beat him up or something.”

Janus snorted at the thought. Sophomore year Janus was too scrawny to beat up
anyone, and picking on freshmen required more effort than he was willing to give.

Emile huffed out a laugh. “But you just looked at him, complimented his outfit,
introduced yourself, and moved on.”

Janus blinked. He didn’t remember that at all. Though, it did explain how Remy knew
his name when they met properly.

Emile’s smile saddened a bit. “He admires the relationship you have with Remus.”

Janus swallowed, throat suddenly tight. He looked away. “Oh.” He mumbled.

“I’m sorry.” Emile sighed. “I can’t even imagine how hard it’s been for you.”

Janus let out a harsh breath. “Yeah. You can’t.”

“Have there been any new developments?” Emile asked him gently. “Any luck?”

Janus scowled. “Did you come over here just to see me react?” He spat.

Emile bristled in surprise. “What? No, I--”

“Do you want to see me cry so you can tell your friends about it? So you can comfort
me and be seen as this kind, caring person. Maybe to pretend you and I are friends to
gain some fame from this whole thing?” He glowered at him.

Emile didn’t say anything, just staring at him wide-eyed.

Janus continued. “Because if you and I are friends, you and Remus must be friends.
And everyone wants to hear what his friends have to say.” He snarled. “Your type of person disgusts me.”

There was a long pause.

Janus expected Emile to drop his facade. To yell at him or just walk away. Instead, he
pursed his lips. “...I’m worried about you, Janus.”

Janus jolted. “What?”

“You look like you haven’t slept in days.” Emile frowned. “Do you have anyone to lean on during this time?”

Janus looked away. “...No. No, uh, he was all I had.” He murmured, anger draining
out of him and leaving him feeling hollow.

Emile seemed even more upset at that. “Janus, you can’t keep living like this.” He
told him softly. “It’s not healthy.”

Janus glanced at him, before releasing a shaky breath. “I don’t know what else to
do.” He muttered weakly. “I need him.”

Emile shook his head. “If he comes back--”

“When.”

Emile frowned. “...do you think you’ll be able to support him like this?” He asked.
“He would hate that you’re doing this to yourself.”

“Everything will go back to normal when he comes back.” Janus shrugged, taking
another sip of his whiskey. He paused, before taking a shuddering breath. “What am I doing?” He questioned aloud. “I’m getting shit-faced when I should be trying to find him.”

Emile frowned. “The detectives are doing their best, Janus.” He reminded him softly.
“Just allow yourself to rest.”

“I can’t rest when Remus could be hurt.” Janus stood up abruptly. “It’s been nice
talking to you Emile, but I have to find my boyfriend.”

And with that, he stormed out of the party.

---

Virgil stared blankly at the boy in front of him. “...huh?” He murmured.

Some guy had shown up at Virgil’s door. He couldn’t have been older than eighteen,
and he had a notebook in his hands. His posture was picture perfect, and he was well dressed.

“I want to work with you.” The boy, who had introduced himself as Logan, told him
again. “To find Remus, of course.”

Virgil tilted his head. “What’s your relation to him?” He asked, leaning against the door a bit.

Logan’s jaw tightened. “None, sir. I would call us acquaintances at best.”

Virgil was surprised at the honesty. “Then why do you want to help?” He raised a
brow. “Fame? Money?”

Logan seemed unphased by the investigator’s sudden suspicion. “I may not be close with Remus, but I am close with Roman.” He spoke plainly. “I’m here to replace him, since his father has barred him from working with you.”

Virgil hummed, nodding. “You’re friends with Roman?”

“A bit more than friends, sir.” Logan said.

“Ah, I see.” Virgil nodded. “Did Roman ask you to?”

“No. I offered. He’s been upset ever since he’s stopped working with you.” Logan
admitted. “I just want to help him.”

“You’re a nice guy, Logan.” Virgil smiled. “And smart too, I can tell just by talking to
you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Please, call me Virgil.” He shook his head. “Or Investigator Storm, whatever makes
you more comfortable.”

“Mr. Storm, I suspect Mr. Patton Hart.” Logan told him, causing Virgil to jolt.

“What makes you say that?” He asked lowly, opening the door a little wider for him.

“Roman told you about the slap, I assume?” Logan said, walking inside. Virgil nodded,
closing the door behind them. “That, paired with his suspicious behavior, is enough for
me to suspect him.”

Virgil hummed. “I’ll be honest with you, I’m in complete agreement. However, without some solid evidence, we won’t be able to do much other than briefly detaining him.”

Logan paused, seeming to be thinking for a moment. “A few months ago, I witnessed
Mr. Hart purchasing an excessive amount of canned food at the grocery store. This struck me as odd, since I had been told that the Hart family doesn’t eat canned food,
and have never seen any in their house. At the time, he told me he was going to try
something new.” Logan frowned. “But when I questioned Roman about it, he seemed unaware that the purchase had been made in the first place.”

Virgil tilted his head. “That’s a bit odd.”

“My intuition tells me that it has something to do with Remus.” Logan hardened his
gaze. “I looked into all charities that accept canned food as donations in Florida, and
none had been given a donation by a Patton Hart. I also went to homeless shelters, and lower class areas. Nothing.”

Virgil blinked. When did this boy have the time to do all that?

“Which, of course, begs the question of where exactly all that food went.” Logan
said. “Perhaps a separate location, where the food is being used to feed a hostage.”

Virgil stared blankly, until he realized that Logan was finished talking. “That’s a pretty bold accusation.” He raised a brow. “Especially considering your theory is based on a few cans of food.”

“I understand that.” Logan nodded. “I believe it’s worth questioning Mr. Hart about this. His behavior while at the grocery store was strange.”

“I…will keep that in mind.” Virgil told him.

In all honesty, Virgil thought Logan was a bit of an overzealous kid who thought
himself smart enough to play detective. His theory was a bit of a stretch, and could
easily be disproved if they were able to find the cans. He would question Patton
about the cans, though. After all, what harm could it do?

“Thank you.” Logan hummed. “I couldn’t share these thoughts with Roman. He
believes his father to be innocent, and I didn’t want to ruin that for him.”

“I understand that.” Virgil sighed. “He always seemed reluctant to share information regarding his dad.”

“Family is very important to him.” Logan said. “He loves his brother and father a lot.
He would do anything for them.”

Virgil huffed out a fond laugh. “He’s a sweet kid. It’s a shame to see him so torn up
over something.”

Logan bristled, suddenly mildly alarmed. “Torn up?” He echoed in horror. “Who is
tearing him up?”

Virgil laughed, thinking Logan was joking. When the younger one didn't join him, he
furrowed his brow. “You’re serious?”

Logan tilted his head. “I’m always serious.”

Virgil snorted, smirking at him. “You are a very interesting character, Logan.”

Logan seemed even more confused at that. “Thank you?”

A/N:

GUESS WHO'S BACK

BACK AGAIN