Not requested.

Ship: Platonic LAMP+T

Category: idk lmao

Warnings: None

Summary: Someone shows up on Thomas' doorstep with an offer he can't refuse.

¶∆¶∆¶∆¶

White blinds click beneath Thomas' fingers as he peers out at the street. A thin ray of sunlight streams through the crack. Outside, people bustle up and down the sidewalk, cars honk in the distance, and birds chirp merrily in the gentle embrace of tree limbs. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Saturday afternoon.

"How are you feeling, kiddo?" Patton asks softly. He sits at the kitchen table, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed with concern. The lights are off.

Thomas sighs. He releases the blinds, which snap into place with a clatter. "Just a headache, although I also think I'm gonna be sick."

Patton hums in contemplation.

"I feel dizzy and like I'm about to have a heart attack," Thomas rambles on, tugging aimlessly at his sleeve cuffs and tapping his foot rapidly. "It's hot and freezing in here at the same time, which doesn't make any sense because the thermometer says it's 71° and-"

"Thomas," Patton interjects, cutting off his long-winded tangent. "You need to relax. Take a deep breath and sit down."

Rubbing his arms as if to rid himself of a chill, Thomas pulls out a chair and sits down, exhaling shakily.

"Virgil's freaking out upstairs," Patton informs him, not unkindly. "And I can agree that we did a risky thing, manifesting in public like that. He's really worried about our safety."

"Tell him to lay off, then," Thomas snaps. Then he groans and buries his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, Pat. Been upset doesn't give me an excuse to be rude."

Patton nods slowly, smiling sympathetically. "It's okay. We're all worried. Virgil just tends to obsess sometimes. That doesn't make his input any less valuable."

"I know, I know," Thomas mutters. "I just- you don't know what's going to happen, and-"

Ding.

The doorbell. Thomas freezes. Something rabid and wild grips his fluttering heart painfully. Patton shoots him an alarmed look, but before he can react, Thomas roughly yanks him back into the Mindscape. All at once, a cacophony of urgent voices rings in his ears, each one offering different advice. He closes his eyes and silences them, one by one, until only Logic's even tone is audible.

"The most peaceful route we can take is to open the door," Logan instructs calmly. "There is a 50% chance that the ringer is benevolent, and a 50% chance their intentions are malevolent. If a conflict happens to break out, we are always here for you, Thomas."

"Okay," Thomas whispers, more for his own comfort than acknowledgement of Logan. He exhales slowly.

Ding.

Thomas flinches.

"One moment," Thomas calls, jumping out of the chair. His socked feet slide soundlessly across the wooden floor as he creeps over to the door, his breathing shallow and uneven. He quickly straightens his shirt, relaxes his fists, and opens the door.

An older man stands there, dressed in a black suit and pants, his red tie covered in little Captain America shields. His salt-and-pepper hair is close cropped, military style, and his eyes are colored a sharp blue pigment akin to the sky. His lips are set in a thin line.

"Can I help you?" Thomas asks politely, leaning on the doorframe in an attempt to appear casual.

"This is the residence of one Thomas Sanders, correct?" the man questions. His voice is low and authoritative. His stony expression does not change.

"Maybe, who's asking?" Thomad raises one eyebrow in a perfect imitation if Virgil.

"Does this look familiar to you?" The man holds up a tablet, and in the screen is a video of Thomas' car at a stoplight. Suddenly, a large van jerks around the corner, just ad the light turns green, causing the two vehicles to crash. Thomas swallows down his dread as two figures appear in flashes of white. The pair splits up, one helping an unconscious Thomad and the other ushering a family to safety. Then blue light engulfed the scene the figures vanish the way they arrived, and Thomas flees the scene.

The video ends there. The man lowers the tablet and stares at Thomas expectantly.

Thomas feels sick with nerves, but he reluctantly steps back and allows the other man inside the house.

"Would you like a drink?" Thomas asks, wringing his hands. "I-I have coffee and tea, and there's water too if you don't like-" The man pulls out a chair and sits down, steepling his fingers. "-tea," Thomas finishes lamely.

"Take a seat." He says it like a friendly suggestion, but his underlying tone is unmistakably an order.

Biting his lip and suddenly feeling quite thirsty himself, Thomad sits down across from the other.

The silence and tension is palpable, and Thomas is about to initiate the conversation, when the man speaks.

"Thomas Sanders," he begins, reciting the world as if one might recite the alphabet or periodic table. "29 years hold, internet sensation with accounts on Twitter, Instagram, YouTube, Tumblr, and formerly, Vine. Makes the majority of his money from his YouTube series named 'Sanders Sides'. Sound like you?"

"Ye-Yeah," Thomas replies nervously.

"How you managed to hide those abilities all these years, I have no clue."

"Look," Thomas starts crossing his arms. "If you're here to arrest me, then just get on with it."

"I'm not going to arrest you." The man sighs, as if Thomas has failed some sort of test. "My name is Eric Raine, and I handle powered individuals before their abilities can get out of control. I track them down and offer them safety and training, at the expense of normality and privacy, of course. You, Mr. Sanders, fit my criteria."

"You think I'm... dangerous?" Thomas gives a disbelieving laugh. "I'm sorry, but I cry at the end of every Disney movie. I'm not dangerous, and I haven't hurt anyone."

"Yet," Raine corrects. "I'm putting together a team, Mr. Sanders, and I want you on it."

"A team? What like- like 'The Avengers'? You're recruiting me for the Avengers Initiative?" Thomas leans back in his chair, a soft chuckle escaping him.

"Think more 'Suicide Squad'," Raine says, deadly serious. "Except I don't recruit criminals. Don't take this lightly, Mr. Sanders. Very few people receive this offer."

Thomas considers this in silence for a few moments. He carefully unmutes his sides.

Hear him out, Logan says. He makes a compelling case.

Be careful, Virgil warns. We can't be sure he's talking the truth.

Accept! Roman crows eagerly. This ought to be a fine adventure!

Patton? Thomas prompts. His moral side had been quiet as the others spoke.

... He's very guarded, Patton says eventually. Like he has something to hide. I don't think we should fully trust him yet.

I agree, Virgil pipes up. Ask more questions first.

Thomas meets Raine's piercing gaze. "What would joining your team entail, exactly?"

Finally, a spark of satisfaction flits across his stony features. "You would be granted free meals, free reign of the compound, and optimal security. You would, of course, be under constant surveillance and further discipline of your abilities is mandatory. You would be allowed no contact with family and friends. This is top secret."

Thomas grimaces. No contact... at all? He opens his mouth to tell Raine, 'It's a dealbreaker', but the older man speaks first.

"Allowances will be made for your social media presence, and we have a team that specializes in coverups." Raine cocks one eyebrow expactantly. "Everything will be taken care of accordingly."

He makes a compelling case, Logan repeats.

I need a final vote, guys, Thomas urges. Yes or no?

Yes! Roman cries. Yes, yes! This is mighty exciting!

I, too, must agree that it seems quite intriguing, Logan admits. Yes.

As long as your friends and family are safe... Patton pauses. Then I say yes.

Before I give you my answer, Virgil mutters, I want to know what happens if we refuse.

"I've heard one side of the offer," Thomas says, swallowing. "But not the other. What happens if I decline?"

Raine's forehead creases, but he fails to disappoint. "If you take that unfortunate road, you will never live unaccompanied ever again. You will be under constant surveillance, always monitored, always restricted. I contain dangerous individuals, Mr. Sanders. If you do not wish to be trained, you will be restrained. This is a selective program."

Living my days on constant high-alert? Virgil huffs. Not desirable.

We'd get to stay out more, Logan offers helpfully. You could protect Thomas better by sustaining manifestation.

Yeah... Virgil hesitates. Thomas' fingers still in their incessant tapping as he reaches a decision. Okay.

"I accept," Thomas says aloud.

Raine's stiff expression relaxes marginally, and for a moment, Thomas swears he saw the corner of his lips quirk upwards. "Wonderful. Now, before we get going, would you mind introducing your Sides to me?"

Taken aback, Thomas stammers out, "Oh, um, okay, sure."

One at a time guys, Thomas tells them. He reaches into his mind and pulls.

With a flash of white, Patton stumbles into view, catching the edge of the table for balance. He shakes his head, straightens his cardigan, and sets a comforting hand on Thomas' shoulder. He turns his stern gaze to Raine.

"Hello," he says, extending his free hand. "My name is Patton, also known as Morality." They shake hands briefly.

Raine watches Patton intently. "And would you mind describing your primary function to me?"

"Not at all," Patton says. His voice is light, but his expression is serious. "I am Thomas' sense of right and wrong, his moral compass. I also represent his deepest emotions that he doesn't always like to confront."

Raine presses something on his collar. Thomas gets the distinct feeling he was recording it. He makes a slight motion at Thomas, signaling him to continue.

Thomas doesn't even have to summon him, because Virgil appears on his own, a scowl plastered on his face and his arms crossed.

"Introduce yourself," Thomas urges gently.

Virgil glares at him, then at Raine. "For the record, this is a terrible idea." He sticks out a hand. "The name's Virgil, I'm his anxiety."

"And your function?"

"I'm his flight or fight reflex, his paranoia, and his deepest fear instinct." Virgil raises on eyebrow challengingly. "I keep him safe and alive."

A nod from Raine, then Thomas summons the next one.

Logan shakes his head, straightens his tie, and sticks out his hand politely. "My name is Logan, also known as Thomas' Logic. I control all basic functions of daily life, host most of Thomas' recent memories, and keep everyone else within reasonable boundaries."

"He likes to say he doesn't have any emotions," Patton whispers conspiratorially. "But then he gets mad when we question him."

"I do not!" Logan snaps. He takes in a breath, fiddles with his tie once more, and steps aside.

Bang. Roman materializes midair, landing on the tile with a thump. He grins and extends his hand with a dramatic flourish. "I am Roman, Thomas' creativity! I handle all relationship-y things, romance, and encompass his hopes and dreams! It's a pleasure."

"Quite." Raine shakes his hand, amused. "Is that all?"

The sides exchange a look with one another.

"Yes," Logan answers stiffly.

"Okay." Raine taps his collar one last time. "If you are truly set in your decision to come with me, you can pack a suitcase with clothes and items that could offer you some semblance of comfort, if you see fit."

"Thomas, we need to talk," Virgil says seriously.

Thomas nods. He turns to Raine. "I'm going to speak with them for a moment, if you don't mind."

"By all means."

Thomas closes his eyes, secures a hold on them, and draws them back into his mind. They all live in a replica of his house, just a bit smaller. Now, they stand in the living room, everyone automatically drifting to their spots.

"Are we really doing this?" Virgil asks nervously.

"I would assume so," Logan replies.

"Guys," Patton interjects. "What about Deceit? Are we not going to tell Raine?"

"No," Roman decides, shaking his head. "Deceit would disagree. He prefers to stay hidden. It's safer that way."

"We could alert him of what we're doing," Logan suggests. "And save his reveal for a time we need him."

"That's fine with me," Patton agrees. "I just don't like lying to people."

"We aren't lying, not exactly," Roman says, "We're merely avoiding the truth. Deceit can teach us things."

"So it's decided?" Thomas questions. They nod affirmatively. "Okay then. Guess we're going with Raine."

¶∆¶∆¶∆¶

Happy Dia De Los Muertos!! -kc