Curse these insidious yellow flowers. They are so pretty but by gods to they kill me every autumn; I wheeze and can’t catch my breath. I never had asthma until i moved out here oh somebody save me from these terrible weeds and awful yellow flowers.
>> The little Stormcloud, always thinking in the terms of fight or flight. Such a fragile balance can easily be toppled. Let's hope you never fall from your tightrope of lightning.
He woke up slowly. It felt like swimming through a fog, his limbs heavy, and every part of him aching, but finally he managed to reach the surface and blink open his eyes, confused for a moment why it was so dark, before he registered the soft fabric pressing against his head. That’s right, he’d flopped face down onto the couch. Evidently, he’d been so out of it he hadn’t shifted at all in his sleep, which was… unusual.
Because usually his “sleep” wasn’t all that restful to begin with.
Then he registered the soft humming coming from the kitchen, and the tension he wasn’t even aware of having leaked out of his shoulders, his breath coming easier at the simple sound that broadcast Patton’s presence to the ship. He managed to sit up, yawning and stretching until his shoulders popped, feeling immensely better than he had been as he stood, shuffling his way into the kitchen, keeping a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He tried to talk, but his voice came out as a dry croak. Still, that got Patton’s attention, who spun around, face lighting up, before creasing with worry.
“Kiddo? You ok?” He swallowed hard, clearing his throat, not managing to speak, instead instantly bursting into tears, Patton’s eyes going wide. “Virgil!” Patton chirped in alarm, pulling him into a seat at the table, hopping onto the table himself, to be at Virgil’s eye level, not that he could currently meet his eyes. Virgil’s arms were resting on the table, his head buried against them, shoulders shaking from the force of his sobs. He didn’t know what to do, besides run his little paws through Virgil’s hair, cooing softly.
“S-orry… I don’t kn-ow why… I’m f-f-fine….” Virgil gasped out, not even crying anymore, just fighting for air.
“you’re not fine. We all know you’re not fine, Virgil. It’s ok to be not ok.” He shakes his head, finally emerging from his arms, Patton stifling a trill of alarm at how dark and… and empty, Virgil’s eyes look. The same look Virgil had given him the first time the smugglers had returned him to the cell, right before he passed out, and it scared him. “please, Virgil. Just… whatever it is, let us help you.” Patton pleaded, reaching out slowly, wiping away his tears, pressing his fluffy little forehead against Virgil’s, nuzzling against him.
“Logan says you’re not eating enough.” He started gently. “Is that right?” Hesitantly, Virgil nodded.
“yeah.” He whispers.
“ok. Why is that, kiddo?”
“I don’t… I don’t want to waste your food, your supplies. I already take up so much space and I don’t… deserve it. I don’t do anything to deserve it. T-to deserve this. I’m used to n-not eating, anyways.”
“And you aren’t sleeping enough?”
“I can’t. I… I can’t, I close my eyes, and I’m right back there, I’m there and it’s so real, and I can’t stop myself, and I h-hurt-“ He breaks off, shaking. “I hurt you. And if it’s a night you’re not w-with me, I can’t r-rest until I see you, because I know it isn’t but it feels so real, I h-have to make sure it isn’t r-real.”
“How much are you supposed to sleep and eat, in a day, Virg?” Patton asked softly, and he drew away, running his hands through his hair with a heavy sigh, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling.
“Supposed to get at least eight hours of sleep a night. And… eating probably four times what I am now. But I’m usually too anxious to eat, anyway. It just… just comes back up.” Patton made a small clicking noise, that meant worry, and Virgil flinched. “I’m sorry.” Patton shook his head, resting a hand on Virgil's arm.
“there’s nothing to be sorry for. I wish you’d told us sooner, before it got this bad, but I understand why you didn’t. I know how hard it is, to trust us with information about yourself. I know you worry, what we could do with it, do to you. And none of us fault you for it, honey.” Virgil looked to be on the edge of tears again, as he looked back down at Patton before looking away once more.
“I want to. I… just… I’m scared, Patton.” Patton's heart broke a little at how small Virgil sounded, his voice wavering.
“I know, Virg-"
“no, I… I'm scared because I… I still keep thinking… I… what if this isn’t real? It’s all… all just part of a new game, their last hoorah before…” He took a deep breath, shaking his head. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I can’t stop… it’s just… like this is a dream and when I wake up, it’ll be on the table, or-.” He whispered, cutting himself off, though clearly what hadn’t been said was the worst of the possibilities, based on his face. Patton ruffled his feathers. He didn’t know what to say, what to do, how to help Virgil, and he didn’t have time, right now, to focus on whatever the human wasn’t telling him.
“I’m scared too, sometimes. It’s… it’s easier for me, cause I’ve known Logan and Roman so long, and I have you, too. I feel safe, with all of you around. But… but sometimes I can still feel their hands on my feathers, I can hear them, I need the light on, to sleep, otherwise I panic and forget where I am.”
“patton… why didn’t you say?”
“Because you have enough on your shoulders, and I have Logan and Roman to help carry the burden on my mine. You don’t need to go through this alone, Virgil. We all will help. We all want to. You just have to start letting us. Start… talking, to us, and stop trying to pretend that everything is ok, because it isn’t. Nothing is, nothing about what happened to you, or me, is ok. Do you understand that, Virgil?” Virgil's breath hitched, and his gaze stared firmly at the floor, refusing to answer. “virgil. You didn't deserve it. You know that, right?” He tried again, voice a squeak as Virgil again refused to look at him.
“I must have. I… why me, then? If I didn’t deserve it then…” Patton practically vibrated with indignant rage, stomping his foot in frustration, making Virgil jerk, startled eyes finally meeting his.
“You will not bad talk yourself on this ship, mister! You are kind and compassionate and wonderful! And sometimes the universe is just… just… fucked!” Virgil's eyes widened at Patton swearing, using an earth curse word he'd muttered a couple times and had to, red faced, explain to him. “sometimes it’s just random and bad things happen to good people. And you’re a good people, Virgil. You’re one of the best people.” And Virgil was crying again, silent tears dripping down his face, and then he was folding over from the force of them, huddled into a ball on the chair, breaking again for an entirely different reason, because for the first time he was letting himself start to believe that what had happened wasn’t entirely his fault, his tears only growing as Patton stayed, though he couldn’t shake the shame and disgust at himself that coiled in his gut, because if Patton knew, if they knew what he’d had to do to survive, there was no way they would ever trust him. And he knew, he was going to have to tell them, or the guilt would eat him alive.
…
Logan was surprised, to hear voices coming from the kitchen. It was nearing the night cycle, and he’d realized he hadn’t eaten much of anything, all day, any kind of meal schedule having fallen apart with the recent ocurrances, and he hadn’t heard Roman come out of his room, yet.
He stopped when he rounded the corner, freezing for a moment, before tucking his arms carefully behind him, having promised Virgil he would only mind weave in his presence if given permission, as it unsettled him to have information about himself recorded.
Because that was, Virgil, sitting at the kitchen island, a softly steaming mug held lightly between his hands, a slight upturn to his lips as Patton chattered about everything and nothing in particular, just filling the air with words and chirps, though Virgil seemed to be following easily, having no trouble understanding the occasional words in Patton’s native tongue. He noticed, too, a plate set aside, that looked to have the remains of toast with jam and a more than half empty bowl of porridge, which is more than Virgil usually ate at a meal, in an entire day, sometimes. Especially important since he was already weakened from his illness and still very much recovering. Then he gently cleared his throat, making his presence known, not missing how Virgil flinched, jerking to look his way, relaxing mostly, not completely, upon realizing who it was.
“Virgil. It is a relief to see you up and about. I’m also glad to see Patton coaxed you into eating a decent amount.” Virgil’s cheeks reddened slightly at that, a human sign of embarrassment, and internally, Logan winced. He hadn’t meant to offend, and he couldn’t afford to lose progress.
“yeah. He’s, um, going to help. Try and get me on a normal diet, I guess. You were right, about the not eating enough or getting enough nutrient, thing. So.” Virgil shrugged, face still red, though he didn’t seem upset, and Logan relaxed.
“That is good. If you don’t mind, I would like to ask you about your normal diet back on earth, so I know better what nutrients, exactly, you’ve been lacking and the best way to go about reintroducing you to stable meals. We will have to go slowly, too much food or too much richness will only make you sick, at first.” Virgil nodded.
“I know. We learned a little about it, health and nutrition and stuff, in school. The food pyramid and all that.” Logan’s brow creased and he tilted his head, thinking.
“I am unclear what stacking food into a tower has to do with proper calorie intake.” Virgil huffed, amusement crinkling his eyes, and Logan relaxed further, chancing a small smile back. The action still felt unnatural, like he was threatening a friend, but Virgil’s own upturn of the lips banished that thought quickly.
“The… the sleep, thing, might be a problem, though. I… I don’t know how to fix that.” Virgil mumbled.
“Well, we can start with what the problem is.”
“Nightmares. Vivid ones.” Patton answered for Virgil, who had paled slightly at the mere mention of ‘problem’.
“I see. Nightmares, which are the result of your years of trauma and abuse. Do they center on any particular thing?” Virgil paled further, and Logan could see his breath coming in slightly faster gasps. “You do not need to answer, Virgil. I understand it is difficult.” Virgil took a few deep breaths in and out, though his hands gripped the edge of the table hard.
“It’s ok. I just…” Virgil glanced at Patton, then away, fast enough he almost missed it, and his brow furrowed further. Patton was the one Virgil was understandably the most at ease and trusting with, if it was something he didn’t wish to discuss in front of Patton… it must be deeply unpleasant, and something the ampen didn’t already know, or he wouldn’t be so afraid to share it.
“Patton. Can you check on Roman? He could use your emotional intelligence right now.” Patton looked at him in confusion at the abrupt change of topic, before looking back to Virgil, who sighed, smiling softly.
“It’s ok. Go see him.” Patton hesitated, but finally relented, giving Virgil a quick hug before letting him set him on the floor, stopping beside Logan.
“be careful with him. I just started getting through, Lo.” Patton pleaded softly, and Logan nodded.
“I promise, Patton.” He waited until Patton had vanished down the hall, before turning his attention back to Virgil, noticing how he had hunched in on himself slightly, shoulders tense, as if waiting for an impending strike. Carefully, he slid into the seat opposite the human, examining him with worry, though he looked better than he had.
“Virgil? What is it?” He asked softly, after a few long moments of silence. Virgil took a deep, shuddering breath.
“There's… something else. That i… it wasn’t just…” he took another deep breath, and Logan hesitantly rested a hand lightly atop Virgil's, making sure he knew he could pull away. He didn’t, instead looking up at him, though his hair nearly obscured his eyes.
“it’s bad, lo… I can’t…”
“It’s ok, Virgil. Take your time.”
“I can show you. It’s… I can’t… it hurts.” Virgil whispered, and he could see his eyes glazing over, could see Virgil slipping away. He squeezed his hand lightly, trying to help center him. He only took a moment to decide, knowing whatever it was wouldn’t be pleasant, but he needed to know if he wanted to help, and he was prepared, this time, he could steel himself against it.
“Alright. Show me.” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in and out, initiating the Vidi.
Roman was pacing. He was sure by now he was wearing holes in the floor, his scales up and rattling as he moved, vibrating with his frustration and conflicting thoughts, needing to burn off the extra nervous energy somehow.
Virgil’s bitter laughter was stuck in his head. The look on his face, so defeated and so devastated, so… sure, that what he was saying was true. He thought he was a waste of space, a nuisance, a… danger. And he was… right? Why did thinking that sound so bad, now, when it was what he’d been thinking all along?
Hadn’t he made it clear? He didn’t like Virgil, didn’t trust him, thought he was a danger and a threat and he hated leaving him to his own devices, hated him spending nights alone with Patton, hated knowing he could be lurking literally anywhere, how he slipped into shadows, how he could be totally undectable. If he’d had his way, they would have left Virgil on the planet they found Patton on, without a second glance.
So why did he feel so… guilty, hearing his own words thrown back in his face? That was how he felt, he’d never tried to hide it, but he wasn’t sure now that he was… right.
Because seeing Virgil sprawled on the bathroom floor, blood leaking from his head, seeing him curled on the floor, hyperventilating and clawing at himself, seeing him trapped in his own mind, in whatever horrors his brain had conjured, had shaken something within him, had broken his resolve to dislike and hate the human with all his might.
He had every reason, to hate humans, to distrust them, to not want them anywhere near his family.
But… but if Virgil were any other race, any other species, he wouldn’t hesitate to take Virgil under his wing, to protect him like one of his own, to swear him a life debt for protecting Patton, for saving him, for getting him out.
It wasn’t fair.
He… wasn’t being fair.
He jumped, at a knock on his door, taking a moment to take a deep breath, to settle his scales, before opening the door, not meeting Logan’s eyes.
“Hey, teach.”
“Roman… are you… alright?” He flinched at the question, tail swishing across the floor in agitation, considering trying to bluff his way out of this encounter, before letting out a long breath, slowly shaking his head, instead.
“No. I… don’t think I am.” He mumbled, drawing back from the doorway and sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. “I… it’s my fault, isn’t it? That he hid he was ill. He was right, about what I thought of him, but I don’t think that I was right, anymore. Does that make any sense?” He muttered the last question, feeling Logan settle into his chair, one hand tapping against the desk.
“It does. It was not your fault, not entirely, at least. Likely, your attitude did nothing to help his self esteem or self worth, and did lead to him isolating himself further, but he would likely be doing that anyways. It not a simple cause and effect, Roman. There are plenty of already underlying issues already in place.”
“those scars, Logan. What must they have done to him?” Logan shook his head, hands fidgeting mindlessly as he winced.
“They were harvesting him. Blood, Plasma, Adrenaline, other unique human biochemicals. It was much more… painful, physically, than what was done to me. And once they had drained him dry, they were going to sell him for parts." Roman growled, a sound so low and deep he could barely even hear him.
“Roman-"
“It’s barbaric, Logan. I know humans are supposed to be vicious monsters who care nothing for their own but… but that isn’t true! He has clan, Logan, he cried out for them. They took him and tortured him and it doesn’t matter, what species he is that isn’t right!” he yelled, shoving to his feet and starting to pace once more. “it isn’t right, and I haven’t been right, in how I’ve treated him, but it’s so hard, to look at him and not see-" he broke off, breath catching, scales flattening, almost halving his size, struggling for a long moment to shove away the memories.
“I understand, Roman. You have every reason to be angry and conflicted over his presence here, and I know it is hard to differentiate but you must realize, just like any species, not all humans are the same. He’d been through hell, and instead of it making him cold and cruel he protected Patton, to make sure the same wouldn’t happen to him. He is so focused on everyone else's wellbeing that he badly neglects his own.” He answered, watching Roman pace, tail swishing back and forth.
“what do I do, Logan? How… I don’t know how to stop, how to change what I feel, when I look at him, the fear that flashes through me every time he moves too fast, every time he steps towards Patton, steps towards you, I know he doesn’t mean to hurt anyone, but that doesn’t change that he could hurt everyone.”
“Stop solely vilifying him. Talk to him. Learn about him. Knowledge of something erases the fear of the unknown. If you can’t trust him, that’s understandable. But you can reach some sort of civil understanding, I'm sure.” Roman let out a soft snort of amusement.
“of course, your advice is to study. Not that you aren’t right, as always, teach.” Logan's hand did a small twirl, his sign for relief or content in his weaving. None of them could comprehend every movement meaning, no matter how often he tried to explain them all, but they knew the basic styles and attitudes of his motions. “thank you, Logan.” He mumbled, ducking his head, a sign of respect to elders, one he rarely used, rarely admitted to not knowing something or being wrong, but Logan deserved it.
“Thank you for listening. I’ll let you sort out your thoughts.” Logan murmured, brushing against Roman gently, purposefully lingering for a moment in the brief contact in support, as he slipped out the door, and down the hall to his own room. He would try to take his own advice to Patton and get some sleep, though he doubted it would come easily. There was too much, on his mind, his hands struggled to keep track of it all.
Perhaps he’d try and draw, for a bit. He was getting rather good at using two hands simultaneously, and it would give him something to focus on instead of dwelling on his own worries and concerns over Virgil. It would clear his mind, and allow him to try and organize his thoughts into some semblance of coherency, because he was going to have to convince Virgil that they didn’t just care out of guilt, that they wanted him to have a chance at an actual life, and he was sure that was a truth Virgil both didn’t want to face, and didn’t know how to comprehend. But he would have to. Because Logan was not going to let this downward spiral continue a moment longer. Not when it had very nearly cost Virgil his life.
There are bad things in every world, but in a world with magic these things can often hit closer to home. And sometimes, home isn’t even what you once thought it was.
Virgil is running away, from a place no longer his home. Emile has been driven away, and just wants to get back home. And Patton is trying to figure out what makes up a home.
They’ve found people that care for them, but is that what it takes? Will they ever really find home?
Warnings: Referenced/Off screen child abuse, Negative mindsets/Anxiety, Assault, Reference to a person as a possession, kidnapping, referenced/off screen human trafficking, killing of bad guys.
Notes: This was begun before SvSR, and Janus’s name is Dee. ~30,000 words. Roman and Remus take a back seat in this one.
The arena, blood on his hands, of all different colors, teeth bared, trying, begging, the other aliens to stop, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone, but they don’t understand or don’t believe him, and then they’re lunging and instinct takes over, and when he blinks, it’s to a puddle of pepto pink ichor and a mangled body in his hands.
…
The cell, he’s back in the cell, and they’re coming, and he wasn’t ready and Patton isn’t hiding and the door opens, and he lunges, biting, scratching, kicking, screaming, the stun batons sending lightning through his veins, spasming his muscles, and he was aware of Patton’s scream, as he’s dragged away, his pretty blood splattering across the floor, and he’s beaten, shocked, kicked, all the while hearing Patton’s anguish as his feathers were stripped from him all over again, only this time, when they throw Patton back in his cell, his eyes are empty and blank, his body broken and still, and there’s nothing left of the chirping little ampen, and there’s nothing left of himself, as he loses his mind, ripping and tearing through the wall, tearing everything in his path to shreds until a blaster goes off and shoots a hole clean through his chest.
…
He’s running. He’s on an alien planet, and he’s running, and he can hear them behind him, they’re catching up, as he tears through the brush and the trees, leading them away, away, away, from camp, and he staggers as a dart hits his neck, the world spinning on it’s axis as he goes down hard. He can feel the chains being shackled around him, the collar fastened onto his neck, and he can’t even breathe, as electricity burns his skin, from the collar, sends him into unconsciousness, and when he wakes, he’s back in the cell. And the nightmare restarts.
…
“no…” He’s walking home, it’s late, the streetlights on, as he slinks through the shortcut through the park. He hates it, but it’s the fastest way home, and he’s never had any trouble, though he’s heard stories of people getting jumped.
“No…” He winces, at a sharp pain in his neck, for a moment thinking he’d been stung by a bee or a wasp, but when he reaches to feel, a small dart comes away in his hand. He stares at it, befuddled, before he feels another sting, stumbling against a tree as the world starts to tilt, trying to stay upright. Cloaked figures, shrouded figures, language he doesn’t know, and he tried to call out for help, tried to get away, but another wash of dizziness stole his breath, and he fainted.
When he woke up, he was on the ship, in the cell.
“NO!” He jolted upright, pulse racing, breath caught in his throat, the cell, the ship, he was on the ship, needle, needle in his arm, what were they taking this time? What else could they take, they were going to sell him for parts, maybe this was finally to off him for the scientists, he felt dizzy and lightheaded, weak, disoriented, maybe the tranq patch had worn off early, maybe he had a chance to get away, maybe-
A hand, a scaled hand came into view, and he hissed, scrambling backwards, falling off the edge of the furniture he was on. One second it was the sterile room, the iron bed, the suited figures, then it was a couch, smooth walls, soft light. His vision flicked between the two and he couldn’t figure out which was the truth and which was the lie, the suited figures turning towards him, batons out, crackling with energy, the scaled figure trying to reach out, trying to say something, but he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t and it burned, and he was dying, he was sure this is what dying felt like, as he scrambled further back, further away, hissing again as the tug pulled the needle out of his arm, pressing his hoodie sleeve against it to stop the bleeding, but the red, red, red, brought him right back, and it was everywhere, and there was too much, and it wasn’t all his, the bodies scattered across the floor, the colors blending like some macabre watercolor painting, swirling and blending and mixing and-
Touch. Touch against his shoulder. He’d curled into a ball, hands over his ears, forehead touching the floor, making himself as small as possible, trying to hide, but the noise was everywhere and they’d found him and he was going to die, going to be sold off for parts and he was so stupid-
Then the touch moved, a small, so small, hand slipping under his chin, gently tilting his head up, feathers tickling his skin, as he met those big, doe eyes. Feathers. Blue. Antennae, moth like. Fluffy. Safe.
Safe?
“Breathe, Virgil. Can you do that? In… out…” the words sounded so far away, and not quite in sync with the mouth movements, but he tried to follow them, tried to understand, tried to copy his movements. “good, kiddo. You’re doing good. Do you know who I am?” The feathery being asked, and his mind stalled. It must have shown on his face, because the being’s dropped, expression sad, and he hated that look on Patton’s face-
“Patton!” He rasped, voice barely a whisper, throat dry and sore, not helped from the hyperventilating he’d just been doing, from the panic attack. “Patton…” his eyes welled up, and he opened his arms, Patton flying into them without a second thought, hugging him as wide as he could around his chest, Virgil careful as he held him, letting his face rest against his soft feathers, mumbling an apology about getting them wet, met with Patton’s relieved little choked laugh.
He was shaking, he couldn’t stop shaking, the room still flickering, time and space folding in on itself, and it was making him dizzy.
Then Patton started doing the chirp, coo, pattern, vibrating against his chest, grounding him as he struggled to get his breathing under control, to force his mind to the present, but it wouldn’t stop slipping.
“s-sorry… I… I'm so-rry…”
“Shhh, you’re ok, kiddo, it’s ok.” He just shook his head, chest constricting, choking on the air, it burned in his lungs and made him want to scream, just to relieve some of the pressure, but there wasn’t enough air.
“virgil. Can you tell me, five things you can see? Take your time.” Logan, crouched down a fair distance away, to give him space.
“Y-you… patton… R-roman… the… the couch and the… the… n-needle" his breath caught again, his panic flaring, eating him up.
“Alright, good, stay with me, Virgil. Four things you can feel.”
“Pa-tton. My hoodie… the fl-floor. B-andages?” he asked, realizing his arms were carefully wrapped in them.
“you hurt yourself. Nothing serious, it’s alright. Three things you can hear.” He managed a deep breath in, forcing air in and out to answer.
“Chirp/coo.” He said, smiling slightly at Patton's added little trill. “my h-eart, my voice.” He answered, focusing on the feeling of his hands against his hoodie, Patton's warmth against him.
“Excellent. Two things you can smell?”
“Metal… myself" he wrinkled his nose slightly, smelling his own sweat.
“Last one, one thing you can taste.” Logan's steady voice, and he thought for a moment.
“Copper.” He answered, looking up, finally, meeting Logan's eyes for a brief moment, before his gaze flicked to Roman, who stood frozen by the couch, scales half raised in alarm, but also… worry?
“Virgil. How are you feeling?” Logan asked, snapping him back to attention, realizing he’d started to drift.
“um. Sore. Achy. Tired.” He answered, head thumping back against the wall, hissing as it hurt more than expected.
“I was going to warn you about that. We found you fallen over, unconscious on the bathroom floor, bleeding from your head. You’ve been severely ill, and mostly fitfully unconscious, for nearly seven days.” Logan explained.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were so sick!?” Patton scolded, though his voice was gentle.
“i… I didn’t want to bother you. I’ve been sick before. It’s… its fine.”
“no, it isn’t. Virgil. You are severely underweight and malnourished and sleep deprived, all factors that compromise your immune system making it more difficult to fight off disease and you very nearly died because you seemingly cannot comprehend that you are an important member of this crew and we will gladly help if you just ask for it!” He flinched at Logan shouting, his hands clenched into fists. He’d never heard Logan raise his voice, didn’t even know he could, but his mind snagged on what Logan had just said, and he shook his head.
“I… but I’m not. Important. You’re…a family. I’m just a tag along, because you were basically guilted into taking me with. You don’t… want me, here, and that’s fine, I wouldn’t want me here either, so the least I can do is take up the least space and use the least stuff and make myself as little of a nuisance as possible because then maybe I’ll get to stay longer before you get sick of me and kick me off.” Usually he wouldn’t be this candid, but he was tired, and he felt floaty and not all there, his normal anxiety not holding him back.
“Virgil… that's not true.” Roman added, Virgil's bitter laugh echoing harshly through the space.
“Sure it isn’t. You’ve made it clear, what you think of me. And you know what? I’m terrified, constantly, that you might be right. Sooner or later I’m going to hurt someone. It’s… it’s the only thing I’m good at, hurting people. Sometimes I think I should just bail, just leave a note and run, before I hurt anyone. Before I ruin it all. Before I ruin this… this amazing little family, you guys have.”
His eyes slipped closed, against his will, exhaustion weighing him down, settling into his bones from the panic attacks. “I w-want it so badly, it h-urts sometimes, but I can’t… I know I can’t have it. Be part of it. Know I’ll just… just be in the way.” He mumbled, not even sure if he was speaking aloud, anymore.
“Virg… we'll talk about this later, ok? Just… can you make it back to the couch? You need more sleep.” Patton asked, moving off his chest. He nodded, managing to peel his eyes open, stumble to his feet, collapsing face down on the couch before blacking out as soon as his head hit the cushions.
…
“Well. His fever’s broken. There’s no point using these, any further.” Logan, trying to keep his voice steady as he packed up the IV line and supplies, considering hurling the needle out the airlock, just to spite the universe for forcing him to use it.
“I… I need to go. Think. About… things…” Roman poorly explained, darting from the room, as Patton sighed, feathers fluffing and resettling, worried gaze flicking between the doorway Roman had vanished down, Logan storing the medical supplies, and Virgil, face down on the couch. His forehead was a lot cooler, now, and his breathing finally seemed to be normal, deep, steady breaths. His eyes weren’t twitching in his sleep either, a good sign, Patton had learned early on that eye twitches meant bad dreams, nightmares. That was when he would curl up around Virgil’s head and churr softly, a low, rumbling vibration in his chest, that he used to soothe kits, but it also seemed to do the trick on the human. Most of the ampen soothing methods did, which he would have once considered odd, since they relied on empathy to work. But if anything, Virgil had too much empathy, his words playing back in Patton’s mind.
“He thinks we don’t care. We don’t… don’t consider him family, why would he… after everything, still think that?” Patton asked softly, looking up at Logan’s sigh.
“He’s been hurt, Patton. Deeply, psychologically, hurt. He’s so used to being in fight or flight mode, that is all his body knows how to do. His body, his mind, it doesn’t understand, can’t comprehend, safety. And after… after what he went through, how they demeaned him and treated him like a wild animal, like a… a specimen, it’s no wonder that he struggles to comprehend his own self worth, lacks any sense of self esteem or importance. He had to fight every day just to survive, just to keep you safe, and though I am thankful for it, it likely has contributed to his fear of himself. He knows how easily he could hurt any one of us.”
“He won’t though! He’d rather tear himself apart than hurt any of us.” Patton protested.
“I know, Patton. But he clearly doesn’t. He doesn’t take care of himself, he doesn’t trust himself, Patton, and until he starts doing that, understanding that he is wanted and loved and safe, I’m afraid he won’t take care of himself.”
“Then we’ll make sure he does. I will physically fight him.” Patton muttered, determination clear in every bristling feather, and Logan chuckled slightly, shaking his head.
“I would enjoy watching you take down a human, Patton, especially since Virgil would let you, but violence is not going to help in this situation.”
“Still. If he won’t take care of himself, I’m going to make him take care of himself.” He ruffled Patton’s head as he passed the couch, barely containing his smile at the small squeak the motion illicited, stopping at a small tug of his hand.
“Lo? Thank you. For getting him through.” He softened, looking back at Patton, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
“Of course, Patton. Get some more sleep, now that he’s safe, won’t you?” Patton nodded, drawing away and circling a couple times before settling down curled around Virgil’s head, careful to keep a layer of blanket between them, so he wouldn’t accidentally siphon off energy in his sleep. Virgil needed all of it he could get.
Patton cocked his head, a slight frown on his face. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he eased Virgil off of his lap, careful not to wake him as he stood. He rubbed his arms, feeling almost chilled, a shiver running down his spine. Something was wrong.
“Lo? Ro?” He called, and instantly, they appeared from in the kitchen, loosening a bit of the worry growing in his chest, safety in numbers, but something was still niggling at him, eating at his mind, screaming danger.
“Patton. Breathe.” Logan, gently squeezing his shoulders.
“something is wrong.” He answered, panic rising.
“Patton, your eyes…” Roman gasped. He spun, gasping as he saw his reflection, his eyes glowing a dim red. The strange panic pulsed harder, and he flinched, shoving the others down behind him, just as the glass windows of the living room shattered.
His instincts took over, the alarm cry of danger screaming in his head, rushing in his bones, and he growled. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt his family again.
He snarled as he leapt into the fray, not bothering with weapons, his nails sharpening into claws, his fangs bared and ready to tear, as he immediately pounced on one of the assailants, rolling across the floor in a bloody scrap.
Roman had his katana drawn, trying to fend off the attackers, Logan at his back with his crescent moon blades, Patton darting between them all with his extra speed, blocking the hits the others couldn’t see coming, keeping them away from the couch, away from Virgil, whom they seemed to hone in on.
There were so many of them, too many of them, and they were faltering. Roman had a slash across his cheek, Logan was bleeding from his arm. Patton was scraped and bruised, still snarling and spitting furious, like an angry alley cat, trying to defend all three of his family members, unable to keep up, unable to stop one from getting through his line of defense, eyes locking on Virgil as one of the attacking vampires reached him, a scream building in his throat.
Then there was a brilliant burst of black violet light that threw them all off their feet. Patton blinked furiously, breath freezing at the sight before him.
Virgil was standing, eyes a deep, electric storm violet that covered the whites. The light sparked from his hands, wreathed up his arms, wove around him almost like a cloak. The power was so black it was white, shifting between the two, lightning crashing against his skin, the power radiating out from him, his entire being aglow with it. The other attacking vampires hissed, focusing on their target, leaving the others alone. A smile split Virgil’s face, a cold, cruel thing, that made Patton shiver.
“You’ve made a mistake.” Virgil’s voice was an echoing boom, thunder crashing, rattling window panes, shaking the earth, a powerful reverb to it that had all of them wincing as it echoed in their mind.
In an instant, Virgil’s hands twisted in a complicated pattern, glowing circles and runes appearing in the air before him, drawn with his fingers, then he threw his arms wide and the spell circle blew wide, encompassing all the charging vampires, enveloping them in devouring darkness. Their screams were the only sound to the room as they dissolved into smoke, and with a flick of his fingers, the dark spell was gone, along with the attackers. Then Virgil turned to the three of them, his eyes still burning nearly black, novas of light crackling across his skin. Roman shoved to his feet, katana drawn, standing guard before Patton and Logan.
“It’s not safe here.” Virgil’s voice still boomed as he held out a hand, and Roman hesitated. He didn’t want to hurt Virgil, but this was scaring him. This wasn’t anything he’d ever seen before, and he wouldn’t let anyone, even Virgil, harm the others.
“Roman. It’s ok.” Patton murmured, gently pushing down his hand holding the sword, stepping around him, taking Virgil’s outstretched hand. “I trust you.” He whispered to Virgil, noting the slight smile that played at Virgil’s lips.
“I know, baby bat. Thank you.” Virgil replied, squeezing his hand, before looking back up at the others. Logan was next, hesitantly placing a hand on his arm, Roman following suit with a huff.
Virgil closed his eyes, weaving another spell circle in the air, one more complicated than Logan had ever studied, then the world blurred like a wet water color painting, shifting and spinning around them, slowly resettling until it was solid again, and they were in a completely different place.
“And I thought I was one for dramatic entrances.” A low whistle was accompanied with the words, and the group spun to face the small table against the wall, Remy leaning back in it, a smirk on his face, that slowly faded as he noticed the sparking light emanating from Virgil, expression shifting to shock as Virgil turned to look at him, eyes nearly black as coals, his veins pulsing with dark light.
“they found us. Didn’t know where else to go. Keep… keep them safe…” Virgil swayed on his feet, and Remy swore, barely managing to catch Virgil in his arms as the magic instantly vanished, the black leaking from his eyes as they rolled back and he slumped unconscious, skin ashen.
“Shit, Anx, you really know do know how to make an entrance.” Remy whispered, watching with baited breath as Virgil groaned, eyes blearily blinking open. He tsked scoldingly.
“Did you have a stroke and forget the first lesson of magic, you moron?!” Remy shook him lightly, and Virgil hissed, rolling his eyes.
“Be careful what you cast-“
“If it’s too much it’ll draw from your lifeforce itself.” Remy chorused with him, glaring down at him angrily.
“Cool. Now bitch, explain.”
“attacked in our house. Pack of ‘em. Was… was the only option.” Virgil mumbled, eyes slipping shut once more.
“Nuh uh, babe, not on my watch.” Remy muttered, silver light enveloping him for a moment, channeling his own magic into Virgil. Almost instantly, Virgil’s complexion evened out, his breathing steady, and the glow faded from Remy. Virgil didn’t open his eyes, but he stirred slightly, letting out a deep breath and relaxing in Remy’s arms, the pained tension leaving his body. It was a deep, restful sleep of recovery, Remy had made sure of that. It was his specialty, after all.
He took a deep breath, then turned his attention to the others, scowling as he saw Patton, standing with Roman and Logan.
“Someone wanna explain why you all showed up with my half dead adopted brother and him?” Remy asked accusingly, glaring at Patton, who waved nervously. Roman opened his mouth, but Logan stepped forwards first, eyes narrowed.
“Actually, I would say that it was you who led trouble to us. Given that Virgil has been dormant in his role as Anxiety, and you have been searching for Deceit, it seems probable that you were tailed when you paid us a visit, thereby leading your enemies to our doorstep. The only reason we got out is because he used magic more powerful and complex than any I’ve read about.” Remy softened, looking back down at Virgil.
“Of course he did. It takes a ton of magic to teleport two people, let alone three, including yourself. No wonder it pulled at his life force.” Remy sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I was being careful.” He muttered, pushing back Virgil’s hair, before lifting him with a sigh and depositing him on the couch. In a literal blink of an eye, Patton was there, Virgil’s head in his lap. “He’ll be all right in a bit, just needs some, well, sleep. Remy smirked slightly, pushing up his dark glasses.
“So what do we do? He said the house isn’t safe anymore, those vamps are probably watching it. So now what?” Roman asked, pacing, eyes never leaving Remy, full of distrust.
“They seemed to be targeting Virgil specifically, and if it’s true they did indeed follow you to our location, it stands to reason they are after ‘the coven’ as you referred to it. It seems our goals now align. If we wish for these vampires to leave us alone, we must find their leader, and therefore find Deceit. Whether we like it or not, we must now work together.” Logan stated, standing near the arm of the couch, hands clasped behind him. Roman scowled, not halting in his pacing.
“You think I like it either, pretty boy? The last thing I wanted was your pet vampire in my secret hideout.” Roman growled, katana half drawn, silver light sparking on Remy’s hands.
“Say that again, I dare you.” Roman hissed out.
“Gladly, bitch-“
“Enough, you two. Just… enough. I get it. You don’t like me, don’t trust me, don’t want me here. I… I get it. But I’m not leaving. He’s part of my family, and I will do anything to protect him. So can we skip the hating me part, and focus on the problem?” Patton said, voice tired instead of biting, as he looked between Remy and Roman. Remy bit his tongue, looking hard at Patton for a moment, before sighing.
“Alright. Alright, fine, fine, for now. Once we figure this out, I make no promises.” Roman hissed again, cut off by Patton’s glare.
“I’ll just have to change your mind about me by then! Now, what do you know?”
…
He was exhausted. He was slumped against the wall, crouched uncomfortably, his restraints biting into his skin, keeping him from any kind of sleeping position. Every time he drifted off, the collar dug into his neck, jerking him awake. He was stained with blood, but his eyes were still defiant as he heard footsteps approaching, glaring up at the vampire who stopped before him.
“Well. That certainly went interesting. Seems I underestimated your little Virgil. He’s a slippery little shadow, I’ll give him that.” He smirked, relief filling his chest, Virgil got away. He’d always been smart, been strong, the strongest of the three of them, really.
“If you were smart you’d let him go. He’s capable of far more than you can imagine.” He kept his voice even, making sure the exhaustion didn’t give him away, keeping his cool façade intact, as the vampire grinned, fangs showing.
“Oh, but so am I. Something interesting happened, when my followers stormed their house. See, I expected four hunters. I didn’t expect three hunters and one very protective vampire. Wouldn’t you know, my coven turned a human a few months back, and got chased off before they could drag him back to the nest. What a lovely coincidence!” The vampire clapped his hands, green eyes flashing as his heart sunk.
He knows what that means. If vampires from this clan turned Virgil’s friend, and this vampire is the leader of the clan, then Virgil is in grave danger. He can see through Virgil’s friend’s eyes, can listen through his ears, can get inside his head and control him like a thrall, if he’s close enough. There’s an enemy on the inside, and no one, including Virgil’s vampire, knows it.
“Oh, don’t look so glum! You’ll get to see each other again soon, won’t that be great? Now, I’ve gotta go prepare my next move, but don’t you worry about a thing, pet. I’ll be back to play with you soon.” The vampire patted his cheek, making him wince, before he sauntered away, whistling, leaving him shaking.
He closed his eyes against the wash of helpless hopelessness filling him from the inside out. There’s nothing he can do.
He sunk down into his apathy, shutting himself off from the pain, from any emotion, because there is nothing, nothing he can do.
I feel like we have to be in the home stretch of this fic, right? like.. it can’t go on for… Ever? one day i’m going to learn to properly estimate things, i think. hopefully.
tw- food/eating, insecure/slightly panicky thoughts
Previous Chapter - Masterlist
—
Patton had hurried off to catch up with Logan, not wanting to lose him in the crowd on the way to get their lunch. Once he’d made it to him and then to where they were waiting in line together, he began to fiddle with the hem of his sweater, running through his thoughts. Was he being …Impolite? He’d just made this new friend today and he immediately was crushing on his brother? There had to be some kind of etiquette for this, didn’t there?
Warning for some disturbing imagery/body horror this chapter. Virgil’s having nightmares.
...
Fear.
Pounding, aching fear.
Shadowy figures surrounded him, discussing him in words he could almost hear, hushed voices he could almost understand, and it grated at him, it hurt his ears. He tried to cover them, but found he couldn’t move, not a muscle, his eyes were open but he couldn’t even blink, his fingers wouldn’t even twitch, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest, but despite his panic his breathing remained steady and even. The shadows moved closer, their whispers growing louder, echoing in his head, screaming tempests against his ear drums, and he wanted it to stop, he needed it to stop, but it just grew louder, and louder, and then it was the suited beings again, holding a scalpel, and he screamed, as his chest was sliced open, the flesh peeled away to reveal the organs beneath, his heart visible through the blood leaking from him, and he realized though he was screaming in his mind, he wasn’t making any sound, his vocal chords as paralyzed as the rest of him, and he couldn’t look away, as they started ripping out his insides, tearing him apart, the pain splintering through his being, blacking out his vision, and he tried, he tried desperately to writhe and claw and fight his way free, but couldn’t even lift his head, and he was aware of them adding new parts, shoving metal and wires and circuit boards into him, the pop and crackle of electricity against his skin shocking him, sending him into spasms that somehow defied whatever drug they’d given him, back arching at the intense, radiating heat flowing up his spine, and he finally did break free, break out of whatever drug they’d used, a keening, desperate wail shoving past his lips as he shoved himself off the table, as he snarled and clawed and bit and slashed, anything, everything, to get free, until he’d fought off the beings, his breathing ragged and uneven as he looked at the monster they’d made him, all mechanical parts and twisted limbs, broken bones and spasming muscle.
“Virgil?” Suddenly a shadow Logan was there, looking down at him, head tilted and eyes empty, hands strangely still, assessing him like the specimen he was and he shuddered, twitching uncontrollably.
“No. That isn’t Virgil.” Patton, voice hollow, and he screamed again, because his feathers were torn from his body, bent and broken nibs trickling blood down his wings, though he didn’t seem to care. “Virgil wouldn’t do this to me. And he did.” He shook his head, trying to deny it, but memories rushed back, his hands, moving against his will, the metal twisting around his bones, jerking him around like a marionette, Patton, begging, pleading, but he couldn’t stop, the single thought in his mind echoing destroy, destroy, destroy. His hands, ripping handfuls of feathers, feathers flying around the room, getting stuck in his grinning teeth, his manic laugh, his twisted soul.
“No… nonononono…” He curled tight on the ground, ignoring the fire racing through him, the intense, burning, heat, trying to make sense of this, of anything, noticing for the first time his hands were stained red, seeing Patton’s agonized face in his head, his hands on his throat, pressing down, down down-
“Virgil!” Roman’s voice rocked his world, and suddenly his eyes snapped open, hissing at the sudden brightness, too confused to understand anything, vision blurry, from tears, he realized, his breathing stuttering in and out, barely enough to keep from passing out, his throat tight, barely a pinhole of space for air to wheeze in and out of, his chest felt so tight, so constricted, and there wasn’t enough air, and he was hot, why was he so hot, the wires, the wires twisting through his veins, no, he had to get them out, they would make him hurt them, hurt Patton, he couldn’t hurt Patton!
He started scratching at himself, clawing at himself frantically, uncaring of the wetness slipping down his face, he had to stop it, he couldn’t-
Bloody feathers, crushed neck, broken wings, shattered body, he couldn’t-
Hands. Hands on him. He hissed, growled, tried to shove them away, but he was weak, so weak, he couldn’t do anything, couldn’t get away, and they were stopping him, and he was going to hurt everyone, he had to let go, he had to stop himself, he was just a monster, just a toy, just a broken sack of bits and pieces that didn’t even fit together right anymore, why couldn’t they just let him stop?
“please. Please, I can’t, I can’t, I won’t, i… i…” He doubled over, curled into a ball, shaking so hard his teeth were chattering, feeling as if he was shattering into a thousand pieces, broken and stomped on and wrecked.
“kiddo. I need you to breath.” He flinched back, away from Patton, eyes wide with fear, shaking his head frantically, as he scooted away, the grip on his hands letting him go.
“n-no… no! I’ll h-hurt y-y-you they’ll m-make me h-h-hurt-“ he broke off, running out of air, all of it dedicated to keeping the spots in his vision from growing larger, from taking over and plunging him into black.
“virgil. You have never, never ever, hurt me. And they can’t hurt us, anymore. Do you remember that? We’re safe now, remember? You broke us out of there, and kept us safe. You’re safe, Virgil. We’re safe. We’re ok. We’re ok.” Patton repeated softly, using the gentle chirp of his native tongue, ruffling encouragingly when Virgil finally looked up at him, struggling for a few moments, before tentatively chirping it back.
“We’re… we’re… ok.” He echoed slowly, tongue thick in his mouth, head pounding, it hurt to think, it hurt to do anything, but he forced his mind to remember, to remember what he was missing, flashes of a slim, multi armed figure, of a bulky, scaled one, of a… a ship, and he managed a slightly larger, shaky breath.
“M-Mindscape?” He managed, and Patton nodded, eyes soft with worry.
“That’s right, kiddo. You got sick, do you remember that?” He remembered feeling not great, but that was normal. He remembered being dizzy, but that was all. He shook his head, feeling confused again, feeling slow and tired and hazy.
“That’s ok, Virgil. I just wanna help, ok? Will you let me do that?” Patton asked, taking a small step closer. “Will you let me help?” His gaze flicked to the others in the room, pulling at a dull memory, at familiarity, he knew them, knew them and they didn’t spark… fear. Not quite. But the scaled one’s gaze was sharp and angry, and the crystal one’s gaze was sharp and piercing, and both sent unease tingling down his spine. But Patton was asking, and he trusted Patton, and if Patton trusted them, then they couldn’t be bad.
“O-o-Ok.” He managed, letting out a soft sigh when Patton closed the distance between them, resting a hand on his leg, and instantly, the fight and stress drained out of him, eyes fluttering shut.
“You’re gonna be ok, kiddo. I promise.” Then nothing.
…
“He's hotter, Lo.” Patton said, voice shaking, as he felt Virgil's forehead. Sweat coated his skin, and he was panting for breath, shaking, obviously in pain, not just from the lines of red up and down his arms, where he'd started clawing at himself, before Roman stopped him. “he’s getting worse."
“We need to get him to drink. He’s severely dehydrated. I… hate to suggest this, but IVs may be the best option here. I know, it will cause added emotional strain, but his body does not have the strength or resources right now to fight off this illness. And I’d rather have him be upset or afraid than… than dead.” His words caused Patton to draw in his feathers, shrinking to nearly half his normal size, and he buried his face against Virgil’s side. Roman’s scales shifted, scraping against each other as they flattened, conflicting emotions racing through him.
He didn’t like Virgil. Didn’t trust him, wouldn’t have him here, if it had been up to him, but the thought of him… dying, still sent a spike of unease through him, one he could pretend was just for Patton, who was so attached to Virgil.
“ok. If it’s the only way, ok.”
He disinfected and bandaged Virgil’s arms first, before letting Roman shift him back onto the couch, fetching the medical supplies and hooking up the bags. Finally, he was standing over Virgil with the IV line in hand. All he had to do was insert it. He found himself incredibly resistant, now, to the idea, now that he actually was doing this, mind flashing to the moments he’d seen in the vidi, the pain and agony that had accompanied nearly every experience with a needle, but this was different. This was to help.
So he swiftly located the vein on the human’s wrist, slipping the needle in and securing it with gauze and tape, relieved when Virgil did no more than moan slightly, rolling onto his side and curling into a ball. He doubted the reaction would be so placid when he actually woke up to find a needle in his arm, but that was a future worry.
“Alright. That should help hydrate him, as well as give him some of the basic nutrients he is sorely lacking in, as well as some very moderate medicines. I doubt anything we have would do him any harm, but I don’t want to take chances and accidentally make things worse. Patton… you need to sleep.” He added, looking at the disheveled ampen, who shook his head.
“No, no, no! I have to stay! What if he wakes up?”
“He won’t for a few hours, at the very least, which is long enough for you to get some sleep. You haven’t slept since we found him.”
“Well neither have you! You’ve been pacing yourself silly!” He sighed, shoulders slumping.
“Alright. You’re right. If Roman stays on watch and promises to get us if anything changes, will you come rest with me?” he asked, knowing Patton wouldn’t turn down that offer, not with how rarely he was willing to offer tactile comfort, but they could both use some, right now.
“Ro? I know you don’t like him, but-"
“I’ll take care of him. I promise, Patton.” Roman swore, kneeling down so Patton could hug him, smiling as he butted against the underside of his chin, before stepping back, chirping an ampen thanks, hesitantly following Logan down the hall and into his room, Roman hearing the door slide shut.
He let out a low breath, scales flattening as he tried to calm himself, staring down at Virgil’s unconscious form.
“I don’t know what to make of you. I will never say this out loud again, but you terrify me. And I will not lose another family, to humans. But… every time you panic or lose control or lash out, it’s always at yourself. It’s always to protect Patton. You always choose to harm yourself over any of us, but you’re still a human, a death worlder, a dangerous, violent, creature.” He said, though it sounded much less convincing now, that it usually did in his arguments with Logan or his silent fuming.
Virgil moved slightly, his breath hitching, and his face creased, as if sensing Roman’s displeasure.
“no… please… m-mom…” Virgil mumbled, trying to reach out to something that wasn’t there, something only in his mind, and after a moment, Roman realized Virgil was crying, curling tighter.
He’d known Virgil had been stolen off his planet, but he’d never thought about the implications of it. He hadn’t considered that Virgil had clan, would have a mother or a father, that he’d lost everything, to aliens, without even having a chance to fight to keep it.
Roman knew how it felt, to lose everything, in the blink of an eye.
“and then you go and say something like that.” He sighed, shifting into the chair left beside the couch, hesitantly reaching out to brush back the human’s hair, mimicking the motion he’d seen Patton do countless times, to soothe or relax the human, surprised as Virgil instantly settled, a shaky breath escaping him before his body seemed to go lax once more, leaning into his touch.
“this doesn’t mean I like you. It’s only because I promised Patton.” He grumbled, not moving away, despite himself.
Set in @delimeful 's wonderful WIBAR AU. Virgil gets sick, and the others struggle to help him, not only with his illness, but the clear underlying emotional issues.
Next
AO3
...
It was quiet, on the Mindscape.
Logan was reading, absently twirling his fingers and hands as he studied, recording information, though he was certain most of it would prove false, as it was the little that was reported about humans. Most were comparable to ghost stories or urban legends, but there were a few that seemed more credible, that he hoped would give some more insight into humans in general.
Roman was off working out somewhere, sparring, he insisted it was just to keep sharp, but they all knew it was because he didn’t trust the human on board not to go feral and kill them any second, despite Virgil’s rather shy and withdrawn personality. Still, at least he was getting his aggression out elsewhere, and not by actually fighting or snarking at the true object of his emotions. He was doing better, still, Logan would give him that, but there was a long way to go.
He could hear Patton pitter pattering about in the kitchen, chirping and warbling to himself, making his lips twitch up into a smile. It had been far too quiet, without the little Ampen aboard, too much silence to drown in. It was a comfort he hadn’t realized he’d grown accustomed to, hearing Patton hum and chirp and sing all day. Now it was also a relief, a steady reminder their friend was back home, safe and sound, and he frowned again, thinking of how close they had come to losing him for good. That they would have, had it not been for Virgil.
Speaking of…
“Patton?” He asked, stepping into the kitchen, the Ampen stopping his trilling as he set the kettle on the stove, giving him one of his warm, happy smiles, that seemed to actually light up the room.
“Yeah, Lo? Everything ok?” Patton’s antennae twitched slightly, and he focused back on the present.
“Yes, I believe so, I was simply wondering if you’d seen Virgil today. He is usually awake by now. I was hoping to discuss some… perhaps sensitive topics, that I picked up on during our vidi.”
It was true. He hadn’t seen much, with how fast it had all turned, and spiraled out of hand, and though Virgil and him had been having question and answer sessions, the ones he really wanted to ask seemed more… personal. So, he’d kept them to himself, and simply continued his observations, and studied up on the information available to him.
And what he’d noticed was… concerning, to say the least. He was certain the human wasn’t sleeping enough. Unlike most species, humans could run on limited sleep for an extended period of time, but he was slowly becoming aware that just because humans had the capability to do something, didn’t mean it was natural or good for them to do it. They could survive grievous injuries that would have killed any other species, but it came at great physical and mental cost. They could survive intense radiation, but they would sicken slowly and die. They could imbibe substances that a single sip would be deadly to himself, but even in small amounts, it inhibited a human’s survival instincts and weakened them.
So just because Virgil was running on, at his best guess, four to five hours of sleep a day, didn’t mean that was anywhere near the healthy range of a human’s normal requirements. He’d noticed some of the side effects so commonly, he’d thought they simply were how humans were, until the Vidi gave him glimpses at others, who lacked the bags under their eyes, the deep bruising, that Virgil always had. Virgil was often unsteady on his feet, “light headed” he called it, he often stared out into space for minutes at a time, without registering anything that was said or happening around him, he ran into things, doorframes, corners of furniture, he stumbled and often had to lean against something to regain his balance.
The other issue was his diet. Logan was absolutely certain that Virgil was not eating nor drinking enough. With his permission, he’d taken his heart rate, he’d calculated how many calories his body must burn, at the least, throughout a day. With no physical activity, no exertion, the very base level of sleep, Virgil was missing at least hundreds, if not nearly a thousand, necessary calories, and that was if he were in a relaxed state, which he never was. The human was endlessly jumpy and frightened and twitchy, and he had admitted that his heart rate was much higher than it should be, most of the time, due to his constant state of high alert. But despite this, he ate nearly the least at meals, always pushing food around his place, making excuses to take small portions, at least half the time Logan was certain he hadn’t eaten at all until he was forced to at their daily dinner together, and only then because he didn’t want to upset Patton. Based on his limited understanding, Virgil was immensely underweight and incredibly sleep deprived, both dangerously unhealthy states for humans.
“oh! I peeked in on him a bit ago. He'd just woke up, said he was going to take a shower. I’m kinda surprised he isn’t out here yet.” Patton frowned, his feathers fluffing in distress.
“I see. I'll go check on him, Patton. Save me a cup?” He smiles as Patton’s face lights up again, only half surprised as Patton jumps at him, hugging him. He carefully supports the Ampen, holding him close, allowing his head to rest against Patton's small, fluffy shoulder.
“Thanks, Lo. For looking out for him.” Patton mumbled, as Logan let him go, setting him back down on the counter.
“Of course, Patton. It’s the least I can do. He deserves to not only be safe, but feel safe. I am happy to help make that happen.” Patton's feathers pulsed his trademark light blue, a sign of happiness, that made Logan’s hands flutter, trying to record the warmth in his chest, as he turns away.
…
He woke up with a groan, pushing the cupboard door open, jumping as his door opened, hitting his head against the back of the cupboard at the sudden movement, breath speeding wildly, before he registered Patton’s head poking in, concerned eyes on him.
“Hey, kiddo. Just checking in. Everything ok?” He sighed, but pushed back his exhaustion, summoning a small smile, making it as reassuring and genuine as possible, not difficult, faced with a small ball of fluff.
“I’m alright, Pat. Just catching up on some zee’s. Was gonna go shower.” Patton nodded, hopping into his arms for a quick snuggle, before chirping a happy goodbye and vanishing out the door.
He slumped back against the pylon behind him with another groan, rubbing his hands across his face, then up into his hair, wincing as he felt his hair stick straight up, matted with sweat. He’d stayed in bed far later than usual, but he hadn’t slept more. The night had been plagued with nightmares and sleep paralysis, filling him with terror so deep he couldn’t even scream, could merely panic until he passed out once more, tossing and turning restlessly.
He felt shivery, cold, and his head spun just a bit as he stood, his stomach turning at the motion, vertigo rocking him as he leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to get his bearings.
“fine. I’m fine.” He muttered, taking a few deep breaths in and out, before making his way to the door, listening for a few moments to make sure he couldn’t hear Roman anywhere nearby, he didn’t think he could handle the Crav’n in his current state.
Which was normal and healthy and perfectly fine. He had to be fine.
He made it to the bathroom with minimal stumbling, his vision barely swimming in and out, as he stripped, and turned on the water, hot enough it would probably burn any other members of their little band, but he just sighed in relief as he stepped in, letting the water run over him, soothe the aches building in his muscles. He let out a sigh, halfheartedly scrubbing at his hair, zoning out as he watched the steam.
As he watched, it seemed to form a shape, to swirl into a nebulous form, and his breathing stuttered, heart stopping, as he stared in fear at the suited figure, one of his captors, a needle stabbing down towards him, and he flinched back, the world blurring and swirling and fading out around him, static roaring through his ears, his heart racing as static filled his vision as well. Distantly, he heard knocks, someone maybe calling his name, then he felt his legs give out, his head hit something hard, and the world went black.
…
“Virgil? Are you alright?” He heard a loud thump, a crash, and his eyes widened, knocking again. “Virgil? If you do not answer me, I am going to enter. Virgil!” Nothing. He threw open the door, breath catching, freezing in place at the sight.
Virgil was sprawled across the bathroom floor, unconscious. His breathing seemed somewhat labored and shallow, and he could hear the slight wheeze to it from the doorway. What caught his eye first were the endless collection of scars, all across his body, covering nearly every inch of his skin, and it turned his stomach, it made him sick, the level of trauma and abuse Virgil must have endured. He’d known it wasn’t good, known he’d been a lab rat, an experiment, a being to harvest then sell off the parts once he was drained dry, but knowing it and seeing the scars, the marks of old burns from the stun batons, was something else entirely. And nothing Virgil had said had indicated the violence against him to be to this extent. He felt another surge of appreciation, for Virgil having protected Patton.
The second thing, that finally forced him into motion, was the small pool of red forming around the human’s head, likely where the back of his skull had impacted with the floor. Quickly, he grabbed a towel from off the rack, and rolled Virgil onto his side, wiping away the blood from his neck and hair, to see where to apply the pressure. He breathed a sigh of relief as he located the wound, surprisingly small, given the amount of blood loss, and he was confident a few moments of pressure would easily stop it.
“ROMAN!” He shouted with all his might, voice shaking and unsteady, hearing the crashing footsteps of the Crav’n immediately, the being sliding into the doorway mere moments later, scales raised to their extremes, teeth bared, ready to fight, no doubt hoping for an excuse to fight the human.
“Logan? What’s-“ Patton darts in around Roman’s legs, eyes widening as he instantly is at Virgil’s side, trembling, eyes wide as saucers.
“I need help. Roman, he’s heavy, I need-“
“Ok. Ok, teach, I got you. Let’s get him dressed, then I’ll move him to the couch. What’s… what happened?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I knocked and heard a crash, when I entered, he was like this. I suspect it has something to do with his malnutrition and sleep deprivation.” He answered, focusing on carefully pulling Virgil’s hoodie over his head, hands clenching sharply as one brushes his forehead. “he’s burning up.”
“That’s what happens when he’s… when he’s sick. Humans get all hot and shivery and sometimes their stomach hurts and they can’t eat. But that only happened on the… on the ship. When… when it was really bad.” His voice wavered, feathers flattening.
“I would suspect that he has been feeling ill for a couple of days now, if it’s grown severe enough to make him pass out. His normal temperature is around 98.6 to 99, I would estimate his to be closer to one hundred and three. Has he seemed off to you, Patton?”
“He’s spent less time with me. Less time out of his room. I thought he just needed some space, but… but he was trying to hide he was sick, wasn’t he?”
“Why would he do that? Did he think we’d just abandon him like some deathworlder would an injured comrade?” Roman snorted disdainfully, helping pull pants onto the human, though Patton could see the concern hiding behind his outrage.
“Contrarily, he probably didn’t want to be a burden. To use up more of our resources and time. He constantly sees himself as lesser, as the least important of the group, therefore the one who should take up the least space, least time, least amount of food. Surely, you’ve noticed, Roman.”
“I…hadn’t. I’ll take him now, Pat.” He mumbled softly, gently shooing him back as he scooped Virgil into his arms, surprised at how light the human was, his head lolling limply against his chest, his cheeks flushed, while the rest of his face was even paler than usual. He could feel the frantically rapid beat of his heart, his eyes flicking uneasily under their lids, and his scales flattened in concern. As much as he didn’t trust the human, he didn’t want to see him hurting, either. And if what Logan said was true, Virgil had not only been hurting, but hurting himself, out of, what? Loyalty? Worry? He just couldn’t get a handle on him.
Then again, he hadn’t tried very hard to get to know him, or to give him a chance. But there was something in seeing him so vulnerable, without the usual piercing stare and silent slink, that made him soften a bit, made him remember that despite being one of the most fearsome creatures in the universe, that Virgil was essentially a child, by human standards. He was so thin, too. He could count his bones, under that hoodie. No wonder he was always cold, he had no layer of fat on his bones.
And those scars…
Well. It was enough to almost make him rethink his view on Virgil, at least, as he laid him down on the couch in the common area, Patton immediately taking a seat by his head, brushing his hands soothingly through Virgil’s hair, as the human shook, muttering something in his sleep that was undecipherable, though the tone of fear was impossible to miss, as his hand clenched against the fabric.
“We need to break his fever. Blankets, Roman? I’ll get you a washcloth and water for his forehead, Patton. If he wakes, he is likely to be disoriented or possibly even hallucinate, because of the fever. However, I have no doubt he will calm immensely upon registering your presence. You are… his lifeline, Patton.” Patton nodded, continuing to focus on Virgil, doing the coo chirp pattern used to soothe babies, one of the first things Virgil had mimicked back to him, back on that awful ship.
“He’ll… he’ll be ok, right? He just needs some sleep and he’ll be okay?” His voice trembled, and Logan’s hands clasped behind his back, eyes darting as he looked for the right words to say.
“I don’t know. There’s so little information, Patton, I keep looking and there’s just… not enough, to help him, in any meaningful way. There’s no way of knowing if this is just a ‘flu’ or if it is something more severe. I know his heart rate is high and his breathing rasping, but I don’t know if that’s the result of the illness or simply stress, I would give him medicine, but I don’t know what he can have, what would be helpful, and I don’t know what to do if it’s something we aren’t equipped to handle!” He exploded, pacing the floor somewhat frantically, hands flailing wildly, wincing as one smacked the wall. “I don’t know what to do, but wait.” He said, softer, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his hand, looking up as Roman came to stand before him, gently patting one of his arms.
“It’s ok, Lo. No one expects you to have all the answers. We know you’ll do your best. You always do.” Logan nodded, pulling himself together somewhat, striding off to the kitchen, Roman heading down the hall to raid the extra blankets from the closets.
“you’ll be ok, kiddo. I promise.” Patton murmured, nuzzling against Virgil’s cheek, giggling as Virgil mumbles again, leaning into his touch, hand unclenching, face relaxing minutely. When Logan came back, he huffed fondly, Patton curled up against Virgil’s shoulder, just a ball of puffed up blue feathers, pulsing soothingly.
Guess what time it is? Royality time.
tw- food/eating mention
Previous Chapter - Masterlist
—
Logan was waiting for Virgil near the outside of the cafeteria, looking over the map of the campus a bit more while he waited. The presentation he’d watched had been rather informative, this school could definitely be a contender for an eventual transfer. He was still looking down when he heard Virgil call out to him.
“Howdy doodie, ghostly gaggle, how goes it?” Remus asked, reappearing in their commons, keeping his voice a low almost whisper, despite his buzzing energy, careful of disturbing Virgil.
He’d been laid across the couch, his head in Roman’s lap, who was absently playing with his hair, a slight frown on his face as he gazed at Virgil’s too pale, too still form. He was a bit surprised, to see Patton and Janus were gone from the room, he figured they’d be hovering like a pair of mother hens, though he wasn’t as surprised to find Logan missing, no doubt he was trying to figure out what exactly the living occupants of the house had done to their little shadow.
“Hey, Rems.” Roman murmured noncomitally in response, not breaking his focus on Virgil for a single moment, and he frowned, slipping onto the armrest behind Roman, perching atop it, wrapping his arms around Roman, resting his head on his shoulder.
“It isn’t your fault, Ro.” Roman huffed, shaking his head.
“But it is! I drove him away, I’m the one who said those hurtful things, I was scared, and so I scared him, and Janus was right, who am I, to make him more afraid of himself than he already is?” Roman’s voice cracked, and Remus could feel the remorse and guilt practically radiating off of Roman.
“But you didn’t mean it, Ro. I know you didn’t. I say shit all the time I don’t really mean, and you still forgive me for it. This isn’t any different.”
“It is so. I’ve known you for over a century. Nothing you could say would drive me away, but I keep thinking…”
“A dangerous pastime, I know.” Remus quoted, making Roman huff again, a tinge of laughter to it, that he counted as a win, along with the small flicker of a smile.
“What if you had said that, about me, when you first were drawn here? How different, would it have been? I was so far gone, already. If you’d treated me as I treated him, I don’t think I would have come back from it.” Remus hummed, thinking.
It was true, that by the time he’d wandered to the property, drawn like a moth to a flame by the unstable energy, the swirling miasma of hate and negativity and power, Roman had been barely recognizable as a human soul. He’d burned so bright and angry, instead of becoming a wraith, he was more likely to become a banshee, to howl to the winds, to rampage and scream and tear until the sound sent the place crumbling down around him. The edges of corruption were there, sinking into his spirit, and Roman was right that the wrong move would have sent him over. It was one of the very few times Remus had been patient in his life, weathering the worst of Roman’s rage, the worst of the power directed his way, at his invasion of the space, until Roman had worn himself out enough he was nearly lucid, enough to understand that Remus didn’t mean any harm, anyways.
“I don’t think so.” He said, ponderingly, Roman stiffening in surprise. He slid off the arm of the couch, idly standing and tapping his chin as he thought. “I don’t think that would have broken you. I think it would have made you mad. Angry. Angry at me, which would have been just as effective, as the more… gentle approach I took.”
“Remus, me being angry was the whole problem!” Remus shook his head fervently.
“No no no, you being angry at your family was the problem. You resenting being stuck in a place you hated was the problem. You were directing all your emotion at something intangible, at a memory of a thing that didn’t exist anymore. I think if I’d given you something to hate in the now, given you me, to really, truly rage at, it would have brought you to the present. It would have made you realize what was past is past, and there’s nothing to be done about it. I think we would have gotten to the same place, just down a different road.” He looked up, nearly laughing at the slightly awestruck expression on Roman’s face, before shrugging and smirking. “Or you would have lost your marbles entirely, who’s to say?” Roman snorted, freezing as Virgil shifted, though he didn’t wake, merely rolled over onto his side. “He’s a lot like you. There’s so much emotion, bottled up in there. Loathing and sadness and fear, of course, but under it… under it all is rage, Roman. I don’t think he even realizes it’s there, but he’s burning with it. I think that’s what he’s really afraid of, all of that anger, that he’s directing at himself, until it implodes.”
“He needs to acknowledge it’s there at all. That he has a right, to his anger. He’s been forced to hide everything for so long, Rems, it’s no wonder it’s all trying to escape, that he doesn’t know how to handle it, doesn’t even recognize it.”
“He’ll get there. It’s all still so new to him, Ro, he needs time. You’ve had a century to deal with your baggage. He’s had a few months, most of which he spent hiding. The best you can do is apologize, and make sure you’re here for him. Now, stop worrying so much, and try and relax. The kid is empathic as hell, your stress is making him stress.” With that, Remus vanished, leaving Roman alone with his thoughts, and Virgil, who did have a slight crease to his forehead, a slight downturn to his lips.
“he’s right, you know. You’ll get there. And I can’t wait to see it.”
…
“Remus! What-“ Logan cut himself off, eyes wide as he looked upon the scene. He’d been a bit worried about Remus’s silence, since the summoning, that always meant he was up to something, but this… this is not what he expected.
Thomas was on the floor of the basement, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he drew in chalk, having marked out the rough outline of a circle, a few sigils already in place, Remus hovering over his shoulder.
“Alright, now, copy this one.” Remus drew a shape in the air with practiced ease, the glowing thing pulsing for a moment, before slowly fading away. Thomas leaned back over, copying the pattern. “So this one is basically another protection one. Not that the ghosts here are intending to hurt you, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’ll keep any power from the circle from rebounding back on you, if it snaps.”
“It can do that?”
“Yuppers, and it isn’t always pretty. These things are powerful, kid, and so are the spirits you summon. If the circle is too weak, it won’t be able to contain them, too strong, and it’ll sap everything from them. You got lucky, the first time, in that the power rebounded onto Virgil, instead of you.”
“Remus! What are you doing?” He hissed finally, Remus turning his head one hundred eighty degrees to face him. grinning.
“Oh heya, teach! Just tutoring my newest student!”
“You shouldn’t be telling him any of this! This is dangerous! He could hurt himself, he could summon someone he doesn’t mean to, you should be discouraging this!” Remus snorted.
“You know I’m always one to entertain a bad idea.”
“What!? You think this is a bad idea?!” Thomas asked, looking between Remus and the space he seems to be staring at, where he’s sure another ghost is. If he squinted, he could almost see the outline of something, like a heat haze over asphalt, the wavy distortion of… something. He heard Remus continuing to bicker, but slowly, another voice started to trickle in, though it was distant, like an old radio broadcast, crackling and popping with static.
“-puts all of us at risk!” He hissed sharply, pressing a hand to his temple at the rebounding voice, echoing through his mind, and for a moment, the form was crystal clear, a sharp featured man, dressed a bit old fashioned, like something out of his grandparent’s photographs, eyes flashing and fists clenched in anger. For a moment, the being’s eyes glanced to his, widening minutely as he met them, looked right at him, then he blinked, and it was gone.
Logan reeled backwards, hand clutching at his chest, words knocked out of him. He’d seen the recognition, the startled, amazed look, on Thomas’s face, reflected on his own.
“he saw me.” He whispered, shocked into stillness, eyes darting to Remus. “how… it’s not finished, he didn’t… how did he see me?”
“He’s got raw talent, Logan, that’s what I was trying to tell you. Not just anyone can use a Ouija board and actually have it connect with the spirit realm, and that ramshackle shitty ass summoning circle? That shouldn’t have done a thing, it was so poorly constructed. At most, it should have attracted me to its energy, but instead it summoned Virgil, the one with the most power and the least desire to be seen. That’s power, innate power. I’m not surprised, that with more exposure to us, he’s starting to see you guys, hear you. I wouldn’t be surprised if those abilities kept growing. You’re in for the ride, kid, whether you like it or not.” Remus added, winking at Thomas, who was still slightly stricken, staring at where he’d seen the ghost.
“Which one was that? Or, were you? Not… not one of the ones, who used the board, and definitely not Virgil.” Remus looked at Logan, brow raised.
“Up to you, if you wanna share.” Logan inhaled deeply, just to center himself, before focusing on projecting outward just slightly. If Remus was right, that slight increase in power should be enough for Thomas to hear him, though not see him.
“I am Logan. It is… a surprise, to be meeting you in this manner. I can’t imagine having Remus as a teacher has been too enlightening.” He watched with interest as the man winced again, staring right at him, though there was no recognition this time. Fascinating, so Thomas could sense where his words were coming from, even without manifestation of a physical form.
“I mean, it was either learn or get tormented until I died, soooo…” He glared at Remus, who shrugged, kicking up his feet and floating reclined in the air.
“What? If he’s got the knack for it, it’s better he knows what he’s doing with it, otherwise he’s just a danger to everyone. If they kept fooling around how they were, they were gonna summon something a lot more powerful and a lot less friendly than they, or we, could handle.”
“I… suppose I cannot argue with that logic. But, from now on, I will be helping with and observing these lessons. I don’t trust you not to intentionally mislead him into something dangerous.” Logan countered, eyes narrowed.
“Ugh, fiiiine. I wasn’t gonna do anything too bad, anyway. Just a minor imp! Just for fun!”
“What!?” Thomas screeched again, Remus enjoying the slightly horrified look on his face far too much to care about the face palm occurring on Logan’s end.
“He is a poltergeist. He literally feeds on chaos. Any opportunity to cause it will not be passed up. And as much as he wants to protect us, he also wants to have some fun, often at the expense of the living members of the household. There’s a reason this property was so cheap. It goes on the market every few years.”
“The shortest stay was six months! A lot flies died for that victory. RIP squadron alpha. RIP.”
“I… ok. Not even gonna ask. Thanks, Logan. I’m… imma go process this. Somewhere. Anywhere.” Remus shrugged, following Thomas up the basement steps.
“Suit yourself! You know where to find me!” With a twirl, Remus vanished, leaving behind the faint scent of sulpher, just for fun. Logan rolled his eyes and wordlessly followed, his own mind still spinning.
“No. You shouldn’t.” Remus cuts off Roman’s sentence before he even finishes, watching him pace from his spot upside down on the couch, Janus watching with equal amusement, Logan with a hint of concern.
“But-“
“Roman. They will be fine. Tabitha loves him like her own, she would never in a million years allow anything to endanger Virgil, and by extension, Patton, since he is with him.”
“why did I not know that? That my nemesis has practically adopted Virgil?”
“Because he never told you. He never told any of us, it is personal information, Roman, why would you have known?” Logan asks, trying to decipher what Roman is upset about.
“Because we’re supposed to be his friends! His family! And there’s a whole other half of his life that I know absolutely nothing about and it’s fine, if he doesn’t want to tell me about it, but I never even asked! So what kind of friend, does that make me?” He asks, miserably flopping into a chair, rubbing his face.
“I wouldn’t. If you’d asked, I wouldn’t have told you much of anything, if that helps.” He jolts back upright, at Virgil’s so soft voice, not having heard him and Patton rise up. “It’s… still a little hard, to talk about.” His gaze flickers to Janus and Remus, something a bit sad, a bit pained, a bit angry, there, before flicking away to the floor.
“Virgil I-“
“It’s fine, Jan, really. Not like you meant to, and it… worked out, anyway.” He waves away Janus’s concern, shooting him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just glad you’re okay, too. You’d think the embodiment of self preservation would have a little more of it.”
“He’s got ya there, Jannie.”
“Oh, hush, no one asked you.” He scowls, playfully swatting Remus’s arm, who retaliates by draping himself across the entire couch, his head in Janus’s lap.
“Perish the thought of me, speaking out of turn. Surely now I deserve some punishment.” He waggles his eyebrows, licking his lips suggestively, grinning as Janus rolls his eyes and Virgil snorts.
“How are you doing, Virgil?” Logan asks, and he shrugs, flipping up his hood, missing the concerned exchange of glances that follows the action. Everyone knows that hood up means extra anxious.
“Better, I guess. Not… as scared, I suppose. But, um, it’s been kind of a long day, so I’m gonna go unwind for a bit. You know where to find me, if you need me.” With that and his little salute, Virgil is gone, sunk out to his room.
“So, how is he doing, Pat?” Roman asks, looking up at Patton, who’s fiddling with his cat paws.
“He’s… having a hard time.” He meets Janus’s eyes, who nods minutely, absently running his hand through Remus’s hair, much to his vibrating delight.
“I’ll speak to him, once he’s had some time. I’m… not surprised.”
…
He’s lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. One arm is flung behind him, over his head, the other holding a pillow across his chest. He’s not really sad, or upset, just… numb.
He’s dwelling, he knows he is, but he can’t stop, thinking about his conversation with Patton. He knows, Patton really believes it’ll work this time, everything’ll be fine. But all the same problems are still there, all the same dynamics, just waiting to implode. Everyone’s trying, everyone’s listening more, but still.
Still, he’s always been the one caught in the middle. And now… he has so much more to lose.
Janus and Remus were his first family, they’re the ones that looked after him, that spent time easing his fears, that he tussled with, fought with, explored with, Janus is the one he turned to after nightmares or during panic attacks, Remus was the one who broke through his bad days and forced him to do something, anything, even if it was fighting him tooth and claw for some time alone. And as angry as he was, at them, as much as they hurt him, he still… missed them.
Things weren’t better, or smoother, at first, with the light sides, either, but Patton was always accepting, always trying to understand, and help, and support him. Logan always talks him down from his fears, walks him through his cognitive distortions, counts out his breathing. Roman and him bicker and fight, but it’s not mean spirited, anymore, it’s more out of habit, for fun, and they’re both careful not to cross any lines, Roman whisking him away to the imagination to relax, when he can tell he’s super stressed, or just sitting quietly with him, humming.
He rolls over onto his side, hugging the pillow with all his might, face pressed into it. He doesn’t want to lose Janus and Remus again. He doesn’t want to leave Patton, Logan and Roman. He can’t choose, he can’t, it rips him in half, just thinking about it, it tears him apart, and he can’t do it again, he’ll just linger in no man’s land in the mind, wishing for both and belonging to neither, until Thomas’s brain makes the choice for him, but it won’t matter because he’ll be changed, part of him missing, either way.
He doesn’t move at the soft knock on his door, just curls tighter into his pillow, letting it absorb the silent tears tracking down his face, as he hears the door crack open.
“Vee? May I come in?” Janus, and he doesn’t reply, knowing that will be all the permission the scaled side needs, proven correct at the sound of soft footsteps across the floor, a soft breath, upon seeing him, the soft resettling of the mattress, as he sits down on the edge. Janus doesn’t say anything more, either, just rests a hand on his leg, to remind him he’s there, and waits.
“I wish I still hated you. I wish I was still so hurt by what you did, that I could have that rage back, that determination to hurt you just as badly as you’d hurt me, the pure anger shoving me onwards, until I didn’t remember we’d ever had anything else. It would be so much easier, if I could just still hate you, instead of forgive you, because it still hurts, so much of it still hurts, but I get it. I just… I don’t…”
“Shh, slow down, shadowling. What’s this all about?” He uncurls a bit at that, enough his eyes are peeking out from the pillow, and Janus can see the tear streaks.
“it’s all going to fall apart. I-it’s going to fall apart and I don’t think I can do it again, Jan, no matter which side I end up on. I can’t get shoved back into the dark, I can’t, not after being here for so long, I won’t be able to handle it, it’ll tear me apart, but if I stay on this side, I’ll be losing you and Ree all over again, and either way I lose, and I’m so sick of losing. I wish it would just happen already, so it could be over, and at least then I’d know how my heart would shatter, instead of anticipating it at every second. At least then I’d be broken for… for a reason, instead of because of some stupid thoughts about stuff that hasn’t even happened yet!”
“It won’t-“
“Don’t. Don’t lie to me, Jan.”
“Alright. Tell me, why are you so sure, that this is inevitable?” Janus asks softly, rubbing circles against his leg.
“because it always does.” He sighs, shifting to lay down, spooning Virgil from behind. “the peace never lasts. It’s only a matter of time, and it wasn’t on purpose, the first time, so why would it be any different now? Every argument or disagreement or discussion, it’s going to happen and I’m so sick of waiting for it to happen.”
“It won’t. Look at me, Vee, it won’t. I’m not lying. I will not let it happen again, Thomas won’t let it happen again, we’ve all grown and changed and we all know better, now. We know that only hurt everything, it didn’t fix anything, it just made it all worse. We are never going back to that. I swear it. I know it’s not that easy, to make yourself believe it, but it’s true. Just let yourself remember that, ok? No matter what, it’s true.” He’s only half surprised when Virgil rolls over, curling into his chest, clinging to his shirt and crying. He brings his arms around him, holding him close, running a hand up and down his back. “it’s alright, shadowling. It’s alright.” He murmurs, and for once, Virgil almost finds it in himself to believe it.
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