Heyo! My name is Katsumi -- Just Katsumi!! Feel free to stay awhile if you'd like, see some art, some reblogs, and me just bein' a goober π everyone's welcome and accepted here! Currently on an Osomatsu-San high rn, I'll update here whenever I'll be revolved around a specific fandom π
Heyo fam! π currently riding a South Park/Creek high rn, especially with the new season coming out, so I made a SP side blog! Feel free to head over to @just-up-the-creek if you wanna check it out! Now pardon me while I cry over my otp to top all otp's-ππππ
Heyo! π hope you're doing well! If you are taking requests right now, maybe some Ichi hurt/comfort? Like maybe he's having a depressive episode one day (me? Projecting? It's more likely than you think π) unlike any he's ever had before, and he just doesn't have the strength to do anything, even make snippy remarks at any of his brothers. One (or all, you can pick!) of them notices this odd behavior, and makes it their mission to help him feel a little more like his old self, even if that just means "riding out the storm" with him.
Oof this was really long, lol sorry π but thanks for taking the time to read, I love your writing style! Take care! π
eyyy don't be sorry! God I REALLY enjoyed writing this... I love how it turned out
sometimes these guys can be jerks, for sure, even when one of their own is in pain
but... when it's serious... THIS BEAUTIFUL SHIT HAPPENS
please enjoy Ichi being spoiled and surrounded by love from all his brothers because HE DESERVES IT and I love how this turned out <3
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Ichimatsuβs first (and maybe only) mistake is that he assumes his brothers donβt pay that much attention to him one way or the other unless he speaks up.
Or, maybe itβs that he often hopes they donβt.
Because he knows they care; there are little things they all do that remind him that no matter what, they love him. But they all have their own things to do, and most of the time he finds that best. They should be able to do whatever they like instead of wasting their lives making him feel better. He has a bad day or hates himself so much of the time, if they paid him attention whenever he wasnβt doing well, theyβd never get to enjoy themselves with other things.
He cares about them, too. So usually heβd rather they occupy themselves with their own interests whenever heβs not feeling well. He can bury things deep inside and pretend those shitty feelings donβt exist and act almost normal. As normal as someone like him can act, anyway. For their sake. They donβt deserve to worry about him.
Today, heβs too tired for whatever reason. His scathing barbs and negative attitude on most days arenβt really fakeβ¦ on the bad days, though, he can force his typical demeanor so nobody suspects heβs not fine. All they see is sour-faced, ill-tempered fourth brother Ichimatsu.
He canβt even do that much right now. Itβs as if the weight of existence and his own mind is pulling him down, further and further, until heβs drowning in his thoughts. Horrible thoughts. Things telling him heβs worthless, a failure, a burden, good for nothing, should probably be deadβ¦ too many things to keep track of.
If he were trying not to get his brothersβ attention by being quiet and listless, it isnβt working. In fact, his current behavior has actually done the opposite.
While heβs lying in the corner of the room, curled around himself and wishing he could fall asleep to avoid dealing with these thoughts and feelings, the others are around their table muttering among themselves.
βYou guys noticed he barely touched breakfast, right?β Osomatsu is the first to speak up, and heβs doing his best not to look at Ichimatsu too much, simply because he doesnβt want his younger brother to feel everyoneβs eyes on him. Heβs pretty sure that would just make matters worse.
Choromatsu hums in agreement. βYeah, no, he just kind of stared into his teaβ¦ he might have taken a sip or two, but thatβs about it. I donβt think he even ate any rice.β
βDid he even brush his teeth this morning?β Totty speaks up. βOr his hair? It looks messier than usual, and I was the last one in the bathroom before breakfast, and it didnβt look like his toothbrush had been used.β
βAlso,β Karamatsu chimes in, βI believe that is the same outfit he wore yesterday. He didnβt sleep in it, but he put it back on when he got up even though it hasnβt been washed.β
Choromatsu frowns and steals a quick glance at the fourth eldest. βLike heβ¦ didnβt wanna think about picking something different out, huh? Andβ¦ itβs kind of worrying that he didnβt brush his teeth or hair. I mean, thatβs basic hygiene. Itβs like heβs depressed orβ¦ someβ¦ thingβ¦β
Suddenly a light bulb goes off, and the rest of the brothers exchange a concerned look with each other.
βOh,β is all Osomatsu says for a moment. Then, βFuck.β
Before anyone else can breathe a word, Jyushimatsu leans back away from the table and collapses with his head in Ichimatsuβs lap. βAaaah, Ichimatsu-nii-chan! Baseball practice today? We can do it at the beach!β
Ichimatsu hardly flinches at the abrupt contact, but really itβs because he doesnβt even have the strength to be startled. He doesnβt move to push Jyushimatsu off or bounce his leg to dissuade the him from staying or anything. Itβs a moment until he actually says anything, like a delayed reaction from a computer. βUh. Not today, Jyushi. Iβm probably gonna take a nap.β
βHmmmmmmmβ¦ oh, I know! Iβll nap with you! Maybe weβll dream about baseball!β
All the others watch closely, waiting to see if he gives an average Ichimatsu reaction. Instead, he doesnβt even shrug. βYeah, if you want.β
Obviously, thatβs not what they would be expecting from any other day. They all look at each other again, minus Jyushimatsu who just curls up against his big brotherβs side.
Ichimatsu, on the other hand, is so out of it in his own head that he doesnβt realize that heβs done anything to worry his brothers. They should all be paying attention to their own shit, right?
He just feels so exhausted despite that he knows he slept okay last night. All he did this morning was wake up and get out of bed and already heβsβ¦ drained.
Youβre so lazy. You canβt even put together the energy it takes to read a fucking magazine or something? To do nothing like you usually do? What kind of loser doesnβt have enough energy to do something like watch TV?
What the hell is wrong with you?
He cringes at the sound of his own inner voice berating him, and ducks his head down between his knees. Shit. Everything hurts. Isnβt that right, though? Heβs useless. It doesnβt take any effort to just sit somewhere watching TV or reading and yet heβs not even willing to do something like that.
Even though he expects that Jyushimatsu might want to hang out with him, because the two of them are close, he doesnβt anticipate it when Osomatsu comes over and sits himself down across from Ichimatsu. At least, he thinks itβs Osomatsu. He doesnβt really feel like lifting his head fully; it looks like a red hoodie, though.
βUh, hey, Ichimacchan.β Osomatsu feels a little awkward at first, mainly due to the fact that heβs never sure what to do when Ichimatsu is in one of βtheseβ moods. What works on one day might not work the next time. Previous experience is all he has to draw on, though.
βI noticed you didnβt eat too much at breakfastβ¦ you in the mood for something sweet?β Tempting him with one of their favorite treats might put him in better spirits, at least for a minute. βThereβs a box of imagawayaki on the counterβ¦ thereβs three in there, so we can split βem. Mom said these ones have chocolate cream in them.β
Everyone else lets out a blissful sigh as they all think about how delicious thatβs going to be. Bean paste or custard or even regular cream is always good, but chocolate cream? If they had to fight over those, someone might end up dead.
Ichimatsu offers a shrug in his brotherβs direction. βSure, if you guys want. Iβm just not that hungry.β
Osomatsu frowns, and looks over toward Choromatsu whoβs thankfully recovered from the imagawayaki imagine spot. None of the brothers would ever turn that down. Even if they werenβt necessarily hungry, theyβd make room for something that good. Moreover, given that Ichimatsu didnβt eat anything at breakfast, he should be starving,especially for sweets.
Choromatsu makes his way over, setting a careful hand on Ichimatsuβs shoulder. He doesnβt have any more of a clue what to do than their eldest, so heβs flying by the seat of his pants just as much. Something has to be doneβ¦ they canβt just let poor Ichimatsu suffer. βIchimacchan? Itβs pretty cold today. How about I turn on the kotatsu, and if youβre gonna nap, you can sleep with your legs under it? That might feel nice.β
Well. That does sound nice, Ichimatsu thinks, because curling up under the heat of the kotatsu is always nice in the winter. Butβ¦ heβs pretty sure he doesnβt have the energy to even move from this spot. βOh, yeahβ¦ Iβll probably just nap here, though. Donβt really feel like moving.β
βAaah, but you are cold, arenβt you? I can hear your teeth chattering from all the way over here!β Karamatsu is up in an instant, tugging his leather jacket off his shoulders. Although it leaves him in nothing but a tank top β and a horribly plain grey one, at that β itβs a necessary sacrifice for his little brotherβs comfort.
He hurries over to where everyone else is gathering and gently drapes the jacket over Ichimatsuβs shoulders. βHmphβ¦ Karamatsu to the rescue as usual! Youβre looking cozier already.β
Man,Ichimatsuβs mind comes up with, I try on Shittymatsuβs dumbass jacket one time and suddenly heβs coming up with any excuse to put the stupid thing over me. Do I really want him freezing instead of me? Why donβt I just move my ass over to the kotatsu? Heβs gonna catch a cold and itβll be all my fault because my stubborn ass didnβt move and he took pity on me.
God, I wanna die. Theyβre all falling all over themselves to do shit to cheer me up when they should be focusing on themselves. Iβm fucking trash, making my brothers waste all their damn time on me. Why couldnβt I just do stuff and not make them worry?
ββ¦ Ichimatsu-nii-san?β Totty has plopped himself down in front of Ichimatsu, staring in concern at his big brother. Fuck. Heβs using that eye voodoo of his, and if he says anything, if he asks Ichimatsu a question, heβs gonna get an honest answer despite the fact that Ichimatsu doesnβt want to admit anything.
He canβt help it, though. Tottyβs hand is soft as he reaches up toward Ichimatsuβs face, thumbing away tears that Ichimatsu didnβt even realize heβd started to cry. But his youngest brother is delicate in the way he brushes them, so caring and tender that any little bit of strength Ichimatsu had to keep things hidden away crumbles quickly.
βHehe,β Totty chuckles, though there isnβt a genuine mirth behind it, βyouβre not having a good day, Ichimatsu-nii-sanβ¦ are you?β
He blinks, and more tears start to drip down his cheeks. This time Totty doesnβt make a move to wipe them away, instead staring at his brother with those big, sad doe eyes, glittering with sympathy.
Ichimatsu lets his head drop again, eyes pressing against his arm and tears soaking into his sleeve. βN-no,β he manages to say in a quiet, insecure, small voice. He hates it. He hates making this stupid confession, because he should be able to take care of himself. His brothers donβt need to be huddled around him, pissing their days down the drain. βIβmβ¦ Iβm having a bad day.β
With that, itβs like all five of them attach themselves to him all at once. Thereβs a brief cacophony of worry and reassurances, and a hug Ichimatsu almost loses himself inside of.
βAlright, you hear that, guys?β Osomatsu announces, maybe a bit louder than he really needs to. βIchimatsuβs having a bad day! Woohoo!β
Choromatsu scoffs. βAh, βwoohooβ?? Osomatsu, you idiot! This isnβt a good thing!β
Osomatsu pulls away to rub a finger under his nose with a grin. βHey, sure it is! He said it, didnβt he? Good for you, Ichimacchan! Youβre having a bad day and you said so! Remember what happened when Totty kept junk from us? We need to know this shit! Iβm glad you said something!β
Karamatsuβs hand tousles Ichimatsuβs hair as he pulls his brother into a hug. βYes, Osomatsu is right. Youβre having a bad day, Ichimatsu, and thatβs just fine. It takes a lot of bravery to admit it, so weβre proud of you.β
βPlus, weβre gonna make this the best bad day ever!β Totty hums. Heβs whipped his phone out before anyone can so much as blink, typing away on it. βItβs just about lunch time, so Iβm gonna order some takeout! Ichimatsu-nii-san, what sounds good? Curry? Sushi? Oohβ¦ maybe fried chicken? We donβt do that too oftenβ¦ might be a nice treat! Oh, itβs your call, though.β
Osomatsu gives Ichimatsu a tiny bump on the shoulder with his fist. βYou and Totty figure that out while I go cut that imagawayaki for us. Be right back, guys.β
β¦ Am I in the fucking Twilight Zone or something? What the hell???
Ichimatsu lifts his head just a little, looking at all his brothers. Tottyβs on his phone looking at delivery options, Osomatsu is headed to the kitchen, Jyushimatsu is nuzzled against his sideβ¦
None of them are leaving him by himself. They all still want to be here even when his mood sucks ass. Even when he canβt really do anything for himself. Even when heβs being a huge fucking pain and a thorn in their sides and doing literally nothing to contribute to the day.
What the hell are they all doing? Why are they all fine with wasting their day taking care of him?
When Karamatsu presses a couple of tissues into his hand, Ichimatsu somehow finds the energy to use them to wipe his face. Fuck, he hates crying, and he hates people seeing him cry. βDonβt do this,β he mumbles. βYouβre fucking morons. You have better shit to do thanβ¦β
βNo way!β Jyushimatsu aggressively snuggles against the side of Ichimatsuβs stomach, circling his arms around his brotherβs waist. βWhat better shit could weeeee have to do? Weβre shitty NEETs!β
Choromatsu chuckles. βBesides, thereβs literally nothing more important than taking care of each other, especially when one of us is down and out. Ichimatsu, youβ¦ know none of us are shy when it comes to being honest. So, justβ¦ try to believe us when we say thereβs nothing weβd rather be doing than being with you right now.β
He straightens up, then gingerly taps Jyushimatsu with his foot. βHey, Jyushi, how about you scoot yourself and Ichimatsu over to the kotatsu? And Totty, are you really gonna make a delivery driver come out in this weather? Itβs almost below freezing! Why donβt you go get it yourself?β
βExcuse you, but if they havenβt shut down the delivery option, why shouldnβt I take advantage of it? I donβt wanna leave Ichimatsu-nii-san!β
βOkay, okayβ¦ I guess thatβs fair. What are you ordering, again?β
βAaaah, I dunno! I was waiting for Ichimatsu-nii-san to say what he feels like.β
Meanwhile, Jyushimatsu has somehow gotten himself and Ichimatsu over to the kotatsu, and is currently shoving his big brotherβs legs under it while Choromatsu moves to plug it in. βHome run, YEAH! Your tootsies will be toasty in no time, Ichimatsu-nii-san!β
βO-ohβ¦ thanks, Jyushiβ¦β Thatβs about all he can say, really. Heβs slumped over the table in a matter of seconds, and although thereβs no way it can support the weight of everything he feels like heβs being crushed under, feels a little more relaxing than holding himself in a tight ball in the corner.
Heβs going to cry again. Heβs pretty sure heβs going to cry again. His brothers, his selfish, douche-a-holic, demon brothersβ¦ would rather be taking care of him on a bad day than out doing their own things, not touching him or his shitty mood with a ten-foot pole.
Jyushimatsu is cuddled up on one side, and he can feel Karamatsu settling in on the other with an arm around Ichimatsuβs shoulders. Thatβs it. Heβs surrounded by brothers and their warm, selfless-for-once-in-their-lives affection. He has to surrender. He doesnβt stand a chance.
His mind drifts back to the others. βOhβ¦ Tottyβ¦β
βOh! Yeah, mhm?β
βUmβ¦ curry sounds good, I guess.β
The impossibly huge smile on his youngest brotherβs face comes through even when he speaks. βOh, great! Curry it is! Okaaaay, Iβm gonna get it from that nice place in town. You want it with rice or udon? Or do you want curry bread?β
βUhhβ¦ just with rice.β
βRice, okay, sounds good! Beef, chicken, or pork?β
βHuhβ¦ you mentioned fried chicken, now that sounds good. Does that place do curry rice with tonkatsu on top?β
βOoohβ¦ that does sound good. Yeah, I think thereβs an option for that. Chicken tonkatsu with curry rice, then?β
βYeah.β
βGotcha. Is that what everybody wants?β
βYeah, Totty,β Choromatsu injects, βjust order the same thing for everybody. Weβll all eat that.β
βOkay, what about sides? Does anyone want fukujinzuke or rakkyΕ?β
βGeez, justβ¦ just get half of each and we can divide it up if anyone wants any.β
βOkaaay! Iβm not ordering drinks from there, thoughβ¦ too expensive. We have tea here. Oh, Iβll get a few orders of pork curry bread, too, in case we want a snack later.β
βWell, make sure you get either three or six.β
βYeahhhh, Cherrymatsu, Iβm not stupid! Iβll just get three; Iβm fine buying some, but Iβm not trying to go broke! Does that sound okay, Ichimatsu-nii-san? The curry bread for later?β
It takes a moment, but finally Ichimatsu lets out a breathy, almost tearful laugh as he leans against Karamatsuβs shoulder. βTottyβ¦ youβre trying to fatten me upβ¦ you witchβ¦ youβre gonna cook me and eat meβ¦ thatβs your plan, huh?β¦β
The whole room erupts into a small fit of laughter, even Totty whoβs blushing at being teased. Ichimatsu feels Karamatsu press a kiss to his head, and he sighs. Usually he wouldnβt be able to take all of thisβ¦ the attention, and Totty blabbering away, and Choromatsu trying to be responsible, andβ¦ everything.
At the moment, it feels right. Like things are supposed to be this way. Like heβs supposed to be having a bad day so his brothers can all gather around him and remind him that regardless of anything else, when one of them needs their brothers, everyone is going to be there.
You writing is so nice and this story was such a comfort to me. I was so sad when it ended, but now at least I can go back and read it whenever I want! Just to see that yeah, they're all jerks, but when one of their own is hurting, that's the time when coming together means the most, and it's serious time. This story felt like one big, warm hug for my little rainclouds. Again, thank you for taking my request and writing this, I love everything about it!πππ
I just had a mini heart attack cause I thought that was blood pooling around Virgil and he was dying in Lo's arms...and then I actually looked at the pic.
Damn my angsty mind and soul...this is still beautiful tho πππ
Notes: Found this fic in my drafts from a few months ago, so I cleaned it up to post since LB and Permafrost are taking a bit. Enjoy <3
Virgil knew it was going to be one of those days when the third hour passed with no change.
Everything was too much. His chest hurt, every breath was just too much work, all he wanted was to sink into the blankets and sleep the rest of his life away. Heβd been staring blankly at the wall since heβd woken up, curled up on his side with tears pooling in his eyes. He couldn't get up, couldnβt get back to sleep, couldnβt even call out to ask for help.
It had been a while since heβd had a day like this, when just the thought of getting out of bed made him sick,
Theyβd used to be more frequent, back when Virgil was alone and shut out, hated and scorned by the people he just wanted to protect. The resentment took its toll, and sometimes he couldnβt find a reason to get out of bed.
It wasnβt supposed to happen anymore. He was supposed to be over this. He was supposed to be better.
He had everything heβd ever wanted. He had his family, Thomas listened to him, and he wasnβt just needed- he was wanted.
He was wanted. He knew he was. Sometimes it was just...hard to convince himself of that, despite the overwhelming amount of kindness heβd been given for months now, the reassurances and patient understanding that felt too good to be true.
But now here he was again, unmoving in the dark of his own room, closed off like the brooding villain he was trying so hard not to be anymore.
God, he didnβt want to be here. He didnβt want to be anywhere. He didnβt want to be awake, he didnβt want to go back to sleep, and he didnβt want to get up and go downstairs.
He just...didnβt want to do this anymore.
Why couldnβt he just disappear?
Virgil thought he could hear voices downstairs, but nothing was really registering through the fog settling around his head. His room was pitch dark, the curtains pulled tightly shut, leaving it impossible to tell how much time had passed.
He thought it might have been a few hours by now, and he hoped everyone would just continue on with their day and leave him here forever, trapped in his own body with a brain stuck trying to sabotage his happiness. Heβd fade away on his own, and theyβd forget about him, never bothering to even question his absence.
Virgil knew better than to really believe that. A year ago he could have gotten away with it, he could lock himself up in the dark for days and nobody would care. Theyβd probably celebrate.
Now...now they would notice he wasnβt coming down for breakfast. He had a job to do, he had people who actually cared. Virgil couldnβt just lay here, pathetic and useless. He was letting himself waste away and fail everyone who had taken a chance on him. Theyβd given him so much. He couldnβt undo all that progress because he was feeling a little sad.
But he couldnβt get up. He couldnβt. It would be so much easier if he could just die.
Virgil still wasnβt sure how much time had passed, laying there wide awake without the energy to move a single inch, but suddenly a knock on the door sliced through the haze around his brain.
More tears gathered in his eyes, frustration and dread making his chest unbearably heavy. He didnβt want to be ridiculed and yelled at right now. He wasnβt ready to be forced out of bed, selfish as it was to want to stay here.
A few seconds passed before the door creaked open, light spilling in from the hall, the faint smell of coffee wafting into the room.
βVirgil?β
That was Logan, even though Virgil couldnβt bring himself to turn his head to look. The logical sideβs voice was comforting and familiar, but he wasnβt sure he could handle his blunt judgment right now.
Heβd think Virgil was ridiculous, his refusal to leave his room illogical and stupidly selfish. Heβd made everyone worry for nothing. Anxiety was just being lazy again.
βVirgil, itβs almost eleven,β Logan said, and Virgil kind of wished he could just die right here and now. Death would get him out of being lectured. βYou need to wake up and eat something. You missed breakfast.β
Virgil still couldnβt move, but his breath caught in his throat at the reminder. He knew he was being stupid, and he knew he was behind schedule, but the thought of food just made him feel nauseous.
He heard footsteps, carefully tracking Loganβs movements as he came closer and listened as he carefully set down what was probably a mug of coffee on the dresser.
βVirgil?β he called, and it was getting harder and harder to see as more tears built up. βAre you awake?β
Virgil still couldnβt bring himself to answer, even as Logan moved around to the side of the bed. Virgil didnβt glance up to his face, but there was no way Logan couldnβt tell that the anxious sideβs eyes were open and aware.
He tensed, waiting for anger and judgment, or even just an annoyed huff. He waited to be told that it was easy to get out of bed and Virgil was just being difficult, that he needed to stop being so pathetic or they had no reason to keep showing him so much kindness.
He needed to be useful, or they wouldnβt want him around anymore.
But Logan was suddenly kneeling down to his level, eyes kind and worried behind his glasses.
βAre you alright?β he asked, frowning when Virgil just clenched his jaw in response. βCan you tell me whatβs wrong?β
Virgil couldnβt force words to form no matter how badly he wanted to, and to his dismay a few tears slipped free, trailing down his jaw and seeping into the pillow.
Loganβs expression softened, but the concern in his eyes only grew. He reached forward, slow and careful, and somehow Virgil managed to move just enough to latch desperately onto his hand.
He didnβt have the energy to choke out any apologies, although he was almost certain Logan was about to demand one.
βThat is alright,β the logical side said instead. βYou do not have to talk. Do you think you can manage a nod or headshake?β
Virgil forced himself to respond with the tiniest of movements, even though just reaching up to take Loganβs hand had felt like running a marathon.
βAlright,β he said gently. βAre you feeling ill?β
Virgil wished he was just sick. That would be so much easier to explain. Being sick was fixable, and it wouldnβt look like he was just making excuses to be lazy.
But he didnβt see the point in lying, and he certainly didnβt have the energy to deal with even more anger if he was found out. He managed a small shake of his head, even as Logan reached up with his free hand to carefully feel his forehead. He had to force himself not to lean into the touch.
βAre you in pain?β
Yes. Everything hurt so bad and he wanted it to stop. His chest felt like someone was sitting on it, his head felt like something was pounding at the back of his skull, and every bone in his body felt heavy and useless.
But he couldnβt say that, because he knew it was all in his head. It wasnβt real.
He shook his head again, choking on a small sob, and something like realization dawned in the other sideβs eyes.
βI see,β Logan said. βIs this...just a bad day, then?β
Logan had finally figured it out, because of course he had. Virgil being stupid and useless probably wasnβt a difficult conclusion to come to, anyway.
He nodded, tense and staring at nothing as he waited for Logan to rip his hand away and demand Virgil grow up and stop wasting everyoneβs time. Or maybe heβd just roll his eyes and leave, closing the door and locking Anxiety back in the dark where he belonged.
βIβm sorry to hear that,β Logan said, and to Virgilβs surprise his hold only tightened. βAre you able to get out of bed?β
More tears welled up at the question, dread rising in his chest. Because he couldnβt imagine even standing up right now, but of course he couldnβt expect to be able to get away with that. Logan was being polite about it, but they had a schedule to stick to.
βItβs alright if the answer is no,β Logan continued. βI have no intention of forcing you. I only thought it might be easier to take care of you today if youβre set up on the couch.β
Wait...what? Take care of him?
Logan seemed to sense his confusion, and the hand that wasnβt currently being held hostage moved to run gently through his hair, smiling sadly at Virgilβs barely audible whimper.
βIf youβre more comfortable here you can stay. But I know being left alone with your thoughts is not always...ideal. We can keep you company in the living room if you like. If youβre overstimulated, the lights will be kept dim, and the noise to a minimum.β
Virgil hesitated, trying to figure out if Logan was joking- or if this was some kind of cruel trick to teach him a lesson. They didnβt need to do anything. He didnβt deserve it. And he wasnβt sick, he was just being a baby.
Logan was suddenly cupping Virgilβs cheek, wiping tears away with his thumb. βThere is nothing to be ashamed of, Virgil. Would you like help sitting up?β
And Virgil felt ridiculous, because he had no real reason to feel so weighed down, but he gave another timid nod.
Logan didnβt even hesitate before moving to help, a steadying hand against Virgilβs back as he guided him up to lean against the headboard. He didnβt complain, didnβt lecture Virgil about how inconsiderate he was being, just silently assisted and pulled away when he was done.
Again Virgil wanted to apologize, but the words got stuck in his throat, buried deep beneath the fatigue.
βThere is no need for an apology,β Logan said, and Virgil wondered when heβd become so predictable. βIf you arenβt able to walk, Iβm sure Roman would be more than happy to carry you to the couch. I only need your permission to inform him and Patton of what is happening.β
Virgil wasnβt sick or injured, he was competent enough to get himself out of bed and down the stairs. People were busy, and he was already being awful by forcing Logan to stay.
But just the thought of getting out of bed and walking out of his room was enough to make him want to bury himself under the covers and dissolve into sobs. He curled in on himself and eyed Logan warily, hoping that was enough of an answer.
βAlright,β Logan said, squeezing Virgilβs hand. βIβll go get him, just wait here a moment.β
Logan squeezed Virgilβs hand, and heβd known the logical side long enough to know the smile he sent was nothing but genuine.
Virgil felt cold when Logan pulled his hand away and moved off the bed, but being unable to talk meant he couldnβt call him back as he disappeared through the door.
He let out a shaky breath and pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He squeezed teary eyes shut as he rested his chin on his knees.
It couldnβt have been more than five minutes before Virgil heard footsteps in the hallway, his bedroom door creaking open as the creative side cautiously stepped inside the doorway with a small frown.
Virgil tensed, because if anyone was going to make fun of him for this it would be Roman- well meaning but so brash and over the top at times- and he could already picture Romanβs mocking laughter, his exasperation as he tried to just drag Virgil out of bed, hisβ
βHey there,β Roman called, softer than Virgil could ever remember him sounding. βFeeling under the weather today, Stormcloud?β
Virgil shrugged, hunching his shoulders and staring at his own hands. From the look in the Princeβs eyes, it was clear he understood.
βThatβs ok,β he said, ducking his head to meet Virgilβs eyes as he smiled and made his way to the bed. βBad days happen, Doom and Gloom. You just have to ask for help.β
Virgil let out a pitiful whine, the closest he could get to telling Roman that he couldnβt. Even if he could, he didnβt know how. Heβd never been able to ask for help before. The Princeβs smile turned sad, and he slowly lowered himself on the bed beside Virgil.
βI know,β Roman said, and Virgil watched as he opened his arms in a quiet invitation, looking so ridiculously hopeful. βBut weβre here now.β
Virgil broke. What little walls heβd still been holding up crumbling at the Princeβs simple words, and he choked on a sob, vision blurring with the tears he finally allowed to fall. He collapsed forward into Romanβs chest, shuddering when strong arms wrapped around and pulled him close.
Roman didnβt speak, and he didn't force Virgil to even try, just held him tight and rocked them both on the edge of the bed, the Princeβs chin hooked over Virgilβs head, almost cocooning him in safety.
Roman held him, strong but gentle all the same, letting Virgil cry into the Princeβs shirt as long as he needed, hushing him through violent sobs. He didnβt rush him, didnβt tease or berate him, just kept him close and safe.
βIβm here,β he said when Virgil had quieted down a bit. βIs it ok if I take you downstairs now? Logan and Pat are worried about you.β
Virgil nodded with his face still buried in Romanβs chest, breath catching in his throat when the Prince carefully maneuvered them both towards the end of the bed. He kept one arm wrapped firmly around Virgilβs back, the other hooking under his knees.
βIβve got you,β he whispered when Virgil clutched desperately at the back of his shirt, squeezing his eyes shut as Roman stood from the bed, Virgil secure in his hold. βWeβve all got you, Virge.β
Virgil kept his eyes closed, breaths coming out as nothing more than pitiful, hiccuping sobs. He didnβt want to be here, he didnβt want to talk to anyone, look at anyone, or be seen by anyone. He didnβt want to do this. He didnβt want to exist today.
But Romanβs embrace made him forget that for just a moment. The memory of Loganβs comfort and the promise of Pattonβs care made it just a little more bearable.
It was all a blur, Virgil barely able to focus on the world around him, overwhelmed and so so exhausted. The curtains in the living room were drawn, keeping the room comfortably dim, and Patton and Logan moved quietly, keeping everything blissfully peaceful.
Roman set him down on the couch, letting Virgil curl up on his side and pull the nearest blanket over him, taking a moment to run his fingers through the anxious sideβs hair.
Patton kneeled beside him, searching his watery eyes for silent permission before leaning in to kiss Virgilβs forehead with a soft smile.
βHey kiddo,β he said, just as loving as Logan and Roman had been. βYou want your old dad to make you some hot chocolate?β
Virgil blinked, not sure how to respond to that. It sounded nice, but...but he was already convincing them enough. They were all busy, and probably annoyed andβ
βItβs not an issue, honey,β Patton assured, like he could sense Virgilβs internal panic. βWe didnβt have much planned for today. You can relax.β
He had his suspicions that Logan had actually just changed their schedule in favor of keeping an eye on Virgil while he rested, but he wasnβt exactly in the place to ask questions, as panicked as the thought made him. Heβd make it up to them tomorrow.
Virgil couldnβt quite look Patton in the eyes, but the parental side seemed so eager to help, and...hot chocolate didnβt sound terrible. He gave a hesitant nod, chest loosening a bit at the way Patton positively beamed.
Patton hurried into the kitchen, only to come back less than five minutes later with the biggest mug Virgil had ever seen, overflowing with marshmallows and whipped cream. Roman perched on the arm of the couch, close enough to keep running his fingers through Virgilβs hair.
βJust rest, Virgil,β Logan said, smiling when Virgil took his hot chocolate with unsteady hands. βWe can put on a movie if you like. Or we can leave you alone if youβre overwhelmed.β
Virgil bit his lip, a few stray tears still running down his cheeks and dripping onto the couch. It was a bad day, not his first and definitely not his last but it wasnβt the worst heβd ever had. It was already getting a little better.
He took a steady breath, raising his head to meet Loganβs eyes, mustering what little energy he had to force his voice to work again, the words small, breathy and ragged, but clear all the same.
βStay? Please?β
Logan smiled, Roman scooted closer, and Patton gave Virgilβs forehead another kiss. They gathered around him on the couch, similar to how they usually ended up after a bad panic attack.
Roman and Logan ended up on either side of him, while Patton let Virgil put down his mug for a second to wrap his arms around the moral sideβs waist, relishing in the warmth of one of Pattonβs hugs.
There had been more days like this than Virgil could count, everything weighing down on him until he just wanted to disappear. Heβd never...had this before. Heβd always been alone, locking himself away until he could face his own existence again.
This time his family was on all sides, Patton holding him tightly, Logan taking his hand, Roman still playing with his hair, reminding him that it would be ok soon. He had a reason to fight through it.
Virgil couldnβt bring himself to thank them, not out loud again, but he knew they understood.
I haven't had a day like that in at least a year, thankfully, but fuck do I remember them. This fic is so comforting, thank you for posting it ππππ
Hey, so I've seen some other artists do this thing where you color in just parts of a character or a scene, I believe it saves you time from coloring in the whole picture while giving each character a unique attribute -- a distinct way to tell them apart. Dunno, just thought that was a cool concept. Did I do it right? Probs not, buy hey I had fun with it!
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