Mornings should be banned. Roman rubbed his eyes from the brutally oppressive light breaking through the curtains. The breakfast was good and all, but Roman would rather just go back to bed. He barely managed to sleep last night. His stupid brain just wouldn't give him a break. Fuck up this, mistake that, horrible memory this, it was a nightmare. Though a nightmare would have been better because at least he'd be asleep. He sighed as he rolled to the other end of the bed to his alarm. He wished, more than anything, for some kind of magic time pausing power so he could just go back to bed. Nothing happened, of course, and Roman groaned as he flopped out of bed.
Everything was arduous. Getting, changed, brushing his teeth, even sitting at the breakfast table. Honestly, he was so tired he didn't care if he ate at all. Roman folded his arms and laid his head down on the table while Thomas made breakfast. Is it possible to be done with a day before 8 am? He nearly went up and back to bed until Virgil came in, his all of his emo glory. How Virgil had the focus to do his makeup this early was beyond Roman.
"What's got you down, kiddo?" Patton asked, popping a kiss on Thomas's cheek before sitting down. Roman yawned widely, eyes watering and nearly unhinging his jaw before dropping his head back down. "Well, now I know you went to bed on time last night," Patton commented and rubbed Roman's back slightly. Roman flinched from the sudden contact but was even too tired to freak out any further. At least that was something. Roman yawned again and propped his chin upon his arms.
"I suck at sleeping. Wake me when it's time to go," Roman buried his face in his arms again.
"You've got to eat breakfast, though. It's not healthy to skip it. And it smells so darn good, too!" Patton said cheerily. Roman lifted his head slightly and glared before dropping down again. Roman wanted to smell bedsheets. "I'm sorry, there, Virgil, I'm still learning the alphabet," Patton said, sounding disappointed. Roman glanced up to see what Virgil was saying.
"Virgil suggests coffee," Roman put his head back down.
"Well, we can't do that. Studies show it impairs sleep in teenagers," Patton offered. Roman looked up at Patton with a raised eyebrow.
"And that's different from now, how?" Roman yawned again. If he got more than two hours last night, he'd eat his shoes. Patton froze, the finger he was holding up drooped, and he looked confused.
"We're not giving you coffee," Thomas said, sliding plates down on to the table. Eggs, sausage, toast. Roman groaned, closed his eyes. "Come on, Roman, eat it while it's hot," Thomas urged. Roman sighed and slowly lifted his head. He could only manage small bites of food, and it hurt going down. He already felt like he was starting to drift. Breakfast is dumb. Everything is dumb. Want bed.
"Thanks for breakfast, honey," Patton smiled.
"Thanks," Roman mumbled.
"Don't you have a permission slip I need to sign, Roman?" Thomas asked. Fuck, he was too tired for this.
"Lost it," Roman grumbled and ate a bite of toast. He probably actually did. He hadn't checked for it.
"Already?" Thomas asked incredulously.
"I've got like sixteen pounds of paper worth of homework," Roman groaned. He fought to keep his eyes open and stifle a yawn.
"How's that going?" Patton asked brightly.
"Fine. Great. Whatever word doesn't make you upset," The yawn Roman stifled came back with a vengeance, breaking free from his struggle against sleep and nearly dropped his fork.
"Hmm. You didn't have any caffeine after school, did you?" Patton asked, sounding concerned.
"No. I would have wrestled a bear for some skittles to study with, but there were no skittles-toting-bears available," Roman groaned.
"That's a visual," Patton chuckled.
"They wear rainbow capes and fight crime when they're not dueling to the death with teenagers," Roman said sleepily and picked at his food again.
"Oh no, why to the death?" Patton gasped.
"Violence for violence is the rule of the beasts," Roman fought the urge to lay down in his eggs.
"What are you two talking about? I feel like I missed something," Thomas said, confused.
"The brutal truth of how the man keeps teenagers from taking over the world by bribing them with skittles to fight bears," Roman yawned and dropped his fork, giving up after dropping a bite of egg twice and just switching to munch on his toast.
"I think I'm starting to re-think that coffee stance," Thomas chuckled slightly, sounding concerned.
"Don't give the bears the beans, then they'll take over the world instead, and who will stop the teenagers from their bloody upheaval?" Roman almost felt like he would pass out sitting up. Virgil knocked on the table and Roman looked at him wearily.
'What the fuck are you talking about?' Virgil signed. It took Roman's brain ages to process what he signed.
"We were talking about something?" Roman asked and blinked slowly. Virgil rolled his eyes and put some hot sauce on his eggs.
"You're not used to waking up this early, huh, kiddo?" Patton smiled.
"I don't wake up in the early," Roman grumbled, finally finishing his toast. "Kids pour their own cereal. Double-check they have their bags. Sleep till bus. Sleep on bus. Sleep till bell. Sometimes sleep through homeroom," Roman moaned.
"Um, bud, you aren't with the Finley's anymore," Thomas said carefully.
"No shit?" Roman said. Patton looked affronted, but Roman wasn't sure why. "Aw, well where am I gonna get money, now? Oh no, who's babysitting Jeffery? He's such a cute kid and his parents always left me dinner. His mom made the best lasagna," Roman mumbled a little deliriously.
"Watch your language, Roman. Let's… let's just get him some coffee," Thomas said, sounding defeated, and got up from the table.
"Wait, where am I?" Roman groaned and tried to blink the sleep away from his eyes.
'You're a fucking idiot,' Virgil signed.
"Addendum: Why is an e-boy roasting me?" Roman yawned painfully for an extended period. "Oh hey, Patton, when did you get here?" Patton looked kind of shocked.
"Let me guess, you have a way you take your coffee, Roman?" Thomas asked.
"One cream, two sugars. Why do you ask?" Roman rubbed his eyes.
"You take your coffee blacker than me, kiddo!" Patton said, sounding amused, though still looked concerned.
"Oh, thanks," Roman mumbled when Thomas pushed a coffee mug in front of him. Smelling it woke Roman up enough to manage to eat again.
"This is a temporary solution in the dire situation that Roman may have actually fallen asleep in his eggs this morning," Thomas said firmly. "An exception to the rule,"
"I would have done what now?" Roman asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Drink the coffee, Roman," Thomas sighed and motioned towards the cup.
"Oh! Neat, coffee," Roman said and sipped at the hot coffee.
"I'll pick up some melatonin or something," Thomas said distractedly and sat back down to eat.
"This is good coffee," Roman mumbled and blew gently on it before taking another sip. "It doesn't taste like muddy batteries," He mused and nodded with a satisfied smile.
"I don't think coffee should taste like muddy batteries at all?" Patton said, looking and sounding baffled.
"I agree," Roman continued nodding for a moment longer before he picked up the pace on his breakfast. Everyone just stared at him. "What?"
"Maybe you need to go to bed early today," Thomas suggested.
"Hmm? Sure," Roman said and pushed his plate out of the way, laying back down on the table. "Night," Roman yawned.
"That's… not what we meant, kiddo. Please drink the coffee," Patton urged him.
"Ugh," Roman slowly sat up and flopped back on his chair. "Make up your minds,"
'How did you survive this far?' Virgil signed with a confused expression.
"Sheer spite," Roman grumbled and sipped his coffee, starting to feel like he could think again.
'Same,' Virgil signed back with a sage nod.
"Virgil, could you keep an eye on him on the way to school?" Thomas asked carefully.
'I'm not his mom,' Virgil signed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms after signing mother as sarcastically as possible.
"He's only a year older than me and built like a long stick, what's he supposed to do? Sign motivations or something?" Roman grunted. Virgil motioned to Roman with both arms and looked intensely at Thomas. Thomas held up his hands.
"Okay, point. It wasn't fair to ask," Thomas conceded. Virgil nodded.
"I'll be fine," Roman drawled and made some serious headway on his coffee. He was still tired as shit, and ready to pass out, but he was less mad about it. Maybe he could sleep through homeroom and lunch.
—
Roman walked right into the couch and collapsed on it when he got back from school. He didn't think he could make the stairs, honest to god, he wanted to just die here. He was so done. He closed his eyes, laying partially off the couch and just didn't move. He'd give anything to fall asleep right now, but he just couldn't. But he could lie here. That was like sleep, but more painful. It was close enough. His body wouldn't let him do anything else, anyway.
"Um, Roman?" Thomas said, placing a hand on Roman's shoulder and shaking slightly. Roman's body was too tired to even flinch.
"I will fight you," Roman grumbled into the couch.
"I think you should maybe sleep in a bed," Thomas suggested, patting Roman's shoulder.
"If I could sleep, I would. I am bad at it. I am here in limbo and I suffer eternally for my crimes against man," Roman groaned and lifted his hands slightly off the couch to wave them dramatically.
"Do you need help up the stairs?" Thomas asked kindly, stepping back.
"I need a gun and a single bullet," Roman grumbled into the couch cushions.
"Woah, Roman, that's not okay to joke about," Thomas said firmly. Roman groaned and lifted himself slowly off the couch.
"Fine, I won't joke about it," Roman rolled his eyes. Roman slowly pulled himself to his feet. "I'm going to grab a bite and go do my homework, okay? I promise I'll move my backpack soon. I just got to eat something before I make the harrowing trek through the land of the stairs," Thomas backed up further and looked concerned at Roman, but Roman shrugged it off and went to the kitchen to go eat some chips.
Roman leaned against the counter and stared into nothing while he munched on some potato chips. They were salt and vinegar, and the burning kind of helped him wake up. Like fight or flight, but with masochist chips. They were kind of growing on him. Virgil came into the kitchen with a brief salute and Roman handed over the bag and went to go look in the fridge for a protein. Virgil looked confused but shrugged and started munching chips. Roman shoved a slice of cheddar and some lunch meat in his mouth and poured himself some water to take upstairs to do homework.
Roman dropped his bag with a thud on the floor near the desk and dropped into the chair with a huff. He glared at his science textbook. Roman would rather study the science of how long it takes to burn a textbook, honestly. That was a chemical reaction. He didn't care about subatomic processes in theory. In action, though, that would be interesting. Sublimation was cool to watch. That one experiment he saw a teacher do where the liquids kept changing colors was neat. Memorizing atomic numbers was stupid. He dutifully flipped open the textbook, anyway. He never learned from the lecture and had to catch up somehow.
—
Roman glanced at the time. It had been two hours of endless fucking studying and homework already. His foot was tapping so much he might rocket off, so a run with Lita sounded nice. Roman threw a sheet of paper in his textbook to mark his line and got up. Roman headed downstairs with a sigh.
"Hey, Roman, how's homework going?" Thomas asked as Roman passed his office.
"Oh? Hm, fine, I guess. Is it okay if I go for a run with Lita? My eyes were crossing more than usual," Roman said, shuffling his feet.
"That's fine. I was actually about to take her out myself. Are you sure you're okay to run? You could barely move earlier," Thomas asked, getting up from his desk.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Roman mumbled. He was plenty awake now, just feeling restless.
"I'll head out with you. I've been at that desk all day," Thomas stretched slightly. "Lita," Thomas called and Lita came bounding down the stairs excitedly after a moment. Roman headed to the kitchen to get a water bottle and Lita's leash, tagged closely by the excited terrier. Lita danced around on the kitchen floor and Roman hooked her up as usual.
Thomas did a much better job of keeping up with Roman than Patton did, but Roman and Lita left him in the dust for the first sprint. When Lita slowed down for the hydrant Thomas caught up, though it seemed to be an effort for him.
"You doing all right, Thomas?" Roman asked as Thomas ran up to him and gasped for a moment.
"You… are a speed demon, just like the dog," Thomas said and downed some water.
"We aim to please," Roman smirked. "You normally walk her, right?"
"Yeah. I work from home and need the excuse to get up from my desk or I'll die of heart disease at 45," Thomas said, wiping his head. "It's a good thing you're interested in cross-country. I think you'd do really well. Did you find the permission slip?"
"What?" Roman asked, looking confused at Thomas and stopping for Lita to do her business near a shrub.
"The permission slip for joining the club? You said you lost it in your homework pile," Thomas clarified for Roman. Roman had forgotten about it. He still wasn't going to join and be any more of a burden than he was.
"Oh, yeah. No, I didn't find it. Mostly just learned about the noble gas interactions and stuff like that," Roman shrugged and bagged Lita's business. Lita happily started trotting along while Roman tied the baggy off.
"Just let me know when you find it," Thomas smiled. Roman picked up with running again. Lita ran at a slower pace with Thomas nearby. This was probably their normal speed. Roman wanted to go a little faster, but probably just because he wanted to physically run away from this conversation. He didn't want to get caught in a lie, even if he hadn't technically told one.
"You mind if I pick up the pace a bit?" Roman asked, biting back the nervousness and trying to sound nonchalant.
"Go ahead," Thomas nodded. Roman started running faster and Lita happily kept up and they pulled away from Thomas a bit. There was something extremely satisfying about running away from a conversation, actually. He probably shouldn't make a habit out of it, but it was immediately relieving.
Roman turned the corner around the block while he ran along. Lita jolted forward slightly when she saw Patton's car pulling up into the garage. Roman figured he may as well and pushed himself to keep up with the dog's fevered excitement to see who is probably her favourite person again. They didn't make it back before the garage closed, but Lita bolted and ran right into Patton in walking into the living room when they got inside.
"Oh, did my favourite girl go on a run with Roman?" Patton bent down and scratched behind her ear while unhooking the leash that Roman had just given up and dropped.
"And Thomas, he's behind me. Lita sped up when she saw you pull in," Roman panted.
"Aw, she missed me," Patton cooed and Lita flopped on to her back and Patton gave her belly rubs. Roman sat on the couch and settled down a bit, closing his eyes and breathing. He knew he'd need to get up and get a water refill in a moment, otherwise, he'd just go upstairs and hide.
"I'll refill your water, Roman," Patton said, getting up from petting Lita. Roman just nodded silently and emptied the bottle before holding it up. Patton took it from his hands and went to the kitchen as Thomas came in.
"Oh, sweet air conditioning," Thomas exhaled, closing and locking the door behind him. He walked right into the kitchen after Roman and Thomas share a brief wave.
"Oh! Thomas!" Patton chirped. Patton giggled right after that. Roman sighed and stared longingly at the TV. He wanted to watch TV or play video games or literally anything but going back to the homework pile. Patton came back out and held the water bottle over the couch for Roman to take. He grabbed it and got off the couch to go head into his room. Sadly, there was more homework to get to. Roman shot a last glance at the games before heading back to fight the evil homework villain, a pencil as his sword almost like Percy Jackson. God, he tried, but it still didn't sound fun. He might actually rather fight a gorgon with a regular pen.
Roman sighed as he scanned the internet for a new study playlist. He picked one at random, but his headphones said the battery was low when he pressed play. Well, whatever. He could listen out loud while they charged. Nobody seemed to mind. Roman moved the sheet that marked where he left off and got back to it. His kingdom for a packet in science. This essay form homework was bullshit. What a sadistic teacher.
—
Roman finished almost everything for the night when his alarm went off. There was still a small pile tomorrow, but it was much less daunting. He probably messed lots of it up, but at least it was done. And once he turned all this stuff in tomorrow, his backpack wouldn't weigh 12 tons. He was so glad to be nearly caught up. All this shit was hard to remember and hard to read and just a nightmare. But if he did the work, at least he can say he tried. He had just enough time to take a shower and play something on his phone. Roman got up to pull out some pajamas.
"Time for bed, Roman," Thomas knocked on the door.
"I'm getting in the shower now," Roman said and opened the door to see Thomas standing there.
"Alright, bed right after," Thomas said, looking like he meant it.
"Seriously? I've been doing homework for like 3 hours straight, dude," Roman groaned.
"You nearly fell asleep on your plate, Roman, you need more sleep," Thomas said.
"I'm just going to lay there for hours, can't I at least read a chapter or something?" Roman sighed and rubbed his head.
"I grabbed you some melatonin this afternoon, we'll try that tonight. I'll be back with it in 20 minutes with it," Thomas said, moving aside. Roman threw his arms in frustration and passed to the bathroom. He had a very large selection of choice words for Thomas, but he kept them in a safe place. Where he always did. Ranting in his head. Because he wasn't looking to get his ass beat for talking back, regardless of the supposed safety here. The shower was the perfect place to fume, at least.