(Hello you stunning pomegranates!

I'm so sorry for the hiatus! A lot of not so epic stuff happened in my life but I'm back and ready to give you all more of my story!

So sit back, relax, and watch the chaos unfold!)

3rd Person POV

Virgil didn't know what happened when he woke up in the middle of the night. His head pounded and his eyes burned, looking around at the familiar faces around him. Sorrow lingered in the air still, everyone's slumber uneasy with furrowed brows and shivers. He squinted at the clock about a foot away from him. He groaned. The clock was too far away. Crawling over, he mentally cursed all the times he'd taken electric alarm clocks for granted. As he struggled to read the clock, Virgil heard soft sniffles from beyond the trap door. Virgil's head shot up, and looked behind him.

Everyone slept still, quiet surrounding the room. He quickly decided to do a quick headcount. The day before left Virgil especially paranoid. Patton, Roman, Dee, Lo... "Wait, where's Logan?" Virgil mumbled. He looked between the trap door, and the room again. His panicked gaze softened to worry. The brunette prince opened the hatch slowly, walking down the latter to see Logan sitting cross legged on one of the wooden tables. Sniffling, and his usually neat hair messy and out of place. Virgil walked over to Logan, wincing at the sling on Logan's arm. It looked pretty bad then, but the sight of his lover with such a bad injury made him want to squish up until he's compacted into a small box.

He wasn't too good with emotions, that was Patton's thing, so he just rubbed his hand across his back soothingly and whispered, "I thought sitting on objects that aren't meant to be sat on was pointless, pocket protector?" He chuckled a bit at the end. Virgil knew he was doing horribly, but he was trying his best. "It's all my fault." Logan muttered. "What was that?" Logan shot his head up suddenly, angrily, and in the process wracking Virgil in the nose. "Shit!" Virgil cursed, holding onto his sore nose. That was gonna leave a mark. The green eyed man frantically lurched forward. "Oh my god! Starlight, are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Logan had tear tracks going down his face, his glasses fogged and askew. In other words he looked like shit, but Virgil just fixed his glasses and smiled despite his watery eyes from the pain. "Starlight? That's new." Logan smiles lightly before moving Virgil's hand away. The purple eyed man ignored the small pang in his heart. "Don't look at me like that, Vee. It's all my fault." Logan muttered, words spat like they left a foul taste in his mouth. "Lo, no—" Virgil began, before Logan cut him off. "Yes, it is, Virgil! Quil would still be alive right now if I hadn't let her push me away! It should've been me, Virgil! It should have been me!" By the time Logan finished, his voice wavered and his body shook. Virgil sat down on the tile floor, patting the spot next to him.

Logan sighed at sat down next to Virgil, looking into the eyes of his lover. "I just.." He took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "Why her? She had her whole life ahead of her..but she threw it all away for someone she barely knows. It's irrational, it's rash, it's—" "Totally, and completely Illogical?" Virgil finished, raising an eyebrow. Logan flushed, but nodded slowly. "Yes." Logan shifted, turning to his purple eyed lover. "How'd you know what I was going to say?"

"Thats how I feel." Virgil sighed. "Lo, we're all grieving in our own way, but blaming yourself won't bring Quil back, and it doesn't help anyone in the long run." He put his hand on Logan's cheek, facing him fully. "I know it's in your nature to think you should've had the situation under control, but you don't have to be perfect. You focus too much on what wasn't done to pay attention to what was done. You broke your arm yet you still pressed on! Hell, if it wasn't for you we would've never made it out."

"That's why I love you. You're stronger than you think you are, Logan Stone." Logan stared blankly at Virgil for a moment, and Virgil stared right back, a sad smile on his face. Logan's body shook, and his eyes welled up with tears again. He clutched Virgil's arm with his usable hand, tears running freely down his face. "V-Vee..I-" Logan sobbed, now clutching Virgil's shirt tight with his face buried in his neck. "Shh, just let it out." Virgil rubbed his back. "It's going to be okay."

A creak sounded above them, and only then did Virgil realize the sun now peaked from the horizon. There stood Patton, Roman, and Dee. "Morning guys." Virgil said softly. Logan looked up in a panic, wiping his eyes quickly. "Hello." He blurted. Roman sighed. "It's okay, Logan." Roman gave Logan a teary eyed smile. He walked down and hugged Logan from behind. Logan tensed, but relaxed slowly. Not even a minute later, Virgil, Logan, Roman, Patton and Dee all sat in a group hug.

As they cried and shared their grievances, the group knew one thing.

Things may not be okay now, and things may not be okay later, but they don't have to suffer alone. They don't have to put on a brave face, or hide now they feel, because they're not perfect. They're human, and that's perfectly okay.

.

.

.

Patton now stood on a water fountain in the middle of the small village's bodega. "It's the most busy place here!" Patton had said. He stood with mega phone, and a mission. "Attention citizens of Retria!" He shouted. Peoples heads turned, murmurs starting to be heard. "Our town has been in a state of poverty for the last 20 years! Our money has little to no value, our medicines are gone, and our food is scarce." Patton steps off the fountain, pointing to the structure he had just been standing on. "Heck, this doesn't even work!" Whispers of agreement and confirmation ripples throughout the crowd as more people came over to see what people where looking at. "You all know me, I'm Patton Hart. I run a bakery inherited from my father, who 17 years ago died of an illness with no actual name, but we all know it as 'Silent Death'. No record of it. At all." Dee, who stood a couple feet away from him with Logan, Roman, and Virgil stiffened. He knew this was coming, but he hated the mention anyway. He wore a black cloak, the hood up. People couldn't see him. Not yet.

"No record of illness, and no cure. For a disease that wiped out near half of our population."  The crowd nods in approval once again, this time people calling out and making their voices heard. The entire population of the village was there now, hanging on every word Patton said. Hope tingled in his chest. It was working. "Meanwhile while my father ran a bakery while sick and near death, do you want to know what our oh so elegant and great rulers were doing?" Patton stood up straight. Looking at Dee. "I think it's best someone who was there should say it." He held out the mega phone in Dees direction.

That was his cue. He slowly made his way forward, dropping his hood. Gasps were heard. A few people shouted at him, "Murderer!" and "Dirty Killer!". But Dee paid no mind, as he took it from Patton. They nodded, before Patton walked away. Leaving Dee by himself. The crowed fell silent as Dee stood, the burn marks going down the right side of this face, down his arm being shone without shame, his yellow eye glowing brightly. Dee was done hiding. "While our people suffered, your King was covering up a crime. A crime so heinous he decided to frame a little boy."

Dee sucked in a breath, before screaming out loud for everyone to hear, "WHILE PEOPLE WERE SICK, WHILE PEOPLE WERE DYING AND WAITING FOR HELP, WHILE MY FATHER WORKED HIS HARDEST EVERYDAY TO SUPPORT OUR FAMILY, KING MARCUS STONE KILLED MY MOTHER."  A man, probably mid thirties with his young daughter by his side stepped forward. "And what proof do you have of that?"

Dee simply smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that. Logan?" Logan stepped forward, walking to Dees side with some papers in his hand. The crowd gaped, and sputtered. "It's the prince!" A woman cried. "The next king of Retria!" A boy chirped. "Early this morning, I snuck back into my fathers palace, and found something you might be interested in, good sir. Would you be so kind as to read it out loud for the village to hear." Logan said smoothly. The mans eyes widened, "I— Yes, your majesty—!" Logan stopped him midway, but before you do that, do you remember the big economic boom of XXXX?" (not specifying a date here sorry y'all—) The man nodded vigorously. "Yes, thousands of dollars suddenly..appearing, as the records say, in the palace's savings. No one knew why or how exactly, but being so desperate for medicines for the Silent Death, no one cared. Sir, could you please tell us what the king did with that money again?"

"King Marcus paid for renovations to the castle, and funded his armies. He provided vaccinations from the kingdoms doctors, but they didn't work.." The man muttered. "Thank you. You may read the documents." Logan placed them gently in his hands. He read for about one minute, his face growing more and more horrified by the second. The towns people looked very worried. The man looked up. "..Are these—?" "Papers recording a development in the kingdom's laboratory of a lethal chemical spread through injection, a collection of insurance money from Sandra Hart, and orders from overseas of gasoline and lighters?" Logan quipped. The man could only nod numbly. "Thank you for your cooperation. You can keep the papers." And with that, he walked away.

The crowd was stunned to silence. "People of Retria, I am Demarcus Robin Hart, and I was locked away in a dungeon when I was 9 years old under false claims of Arson and Second Degree Murder. Why? Because I lived. I lived through this wretched mans schemes, and he didn't want anyone to know what he had done." Dee was screaming now, feeling 12 years of grief and rage piling down on him as tears stung his eyes. "BUT IM NOT AFRIAD ANYMORE, AND NEITHER SHOULD YOU BE. ARE WE GOING TO STAND FOR THIS INJUSTICE? OR WILL WE TAKE BACK WHAT IS OURS AND FIGHT FOR A CHANGE?!" Dees eyes widened as the man from earners daughter, who looked about seven or eight, pumped her little fist in the air and yelled out. "WE'RE GONNA TAKE OUR STUFF BACK!" A man stepped forward, fiat held high. "WE FIGHT FOR WHAT IS OURS!"

A woman holding her baby stood forward, free hand curled into a fist and toward the sky as she smiled wildly. "TO A REVOLUTION!" She hollered. The father of the little girl repeated her phrase, fight held high as well. "TO A REVOLUTION!" Virgil stepped forward "LONG LIVE THE REVOLUTION!" Patton stepped forward, Roman, Logan, a little boy, an elderly man, a young woman. Soon the whole crowd had their fists held high, shouting with pride their song. "LONG LIVE THE REVOLUTION!" They shouted, wild smiles on their faces, hunger and hope in their eyes. Dee stared in awe at the what they'd done, he felt like falling to his knees, and sobbing. But instead Dee raised his fist high, letting a wide smile stretch across is face. He stood up tall, and with a brave smile shouted as loud as he could. "LONG LIVE THE PEOPLE OF RETRIA!"

The crowd roared, and cheered. Dee looked over to Patton Hart, a man he'd tried to deny even knowing at first, even when he wasn't there. But now seeing him standing there, a proud smile across his round face, Dee knew..

that he was proud to call Patton his older brother.

(A/N  VIVA LA REVOLUTION! Yes, this is happening.)