A Trophy Father’s Trophy Son
Summary: Angst for Virgil thinking about Janus after he left. Virgil has some conflicting feelings.
Warnings: drinking mentions, shitty father son dynamics, mostly implied that their relationship dynamic was NOT a healthy one but there isn’t much explicitly mentioned
Looking around the room, Virgil took his final glance of what would be his old room. He wasn’t ever sure if he had the heart to leave, but he’d find out soon enough. He’d just tell Janus and Remus simply that he was leaving, that he’d been offered a spot at the table, and he wasn’t going to give up that opportunity. He let out a breath and stepped out of his room, suitcase in clammy hands as he headed down the hall slowly, almost trying to prolong what was to come...
A blaring alarm came crashing moments later as he had gotten to the end of the hall, ripping Virgil away from his dream. If you could even call it that. It was all too real, all too close to the memory. He groaned, rolling over in his bed and slamming his hand on his alarm, taking out his phone to play music, to get away from the memory, not recognizing he was spiraling anyway.
Virgil remembered that night well. Too well. He remembered the look of anger and disappointment on Janus’s face, followed by the guilt tripping, the yelling, the anger, and even Remus hiding as the walls of the mind palace shook from the indignant energies of their voices.
The memory brought back a lot of unwanted feelings. Ones that belonged to other memories, of Janus going behind his back, picking his locks and stealing his diary, going through his things without permission, chastising Virgil as if he were a child. But even after that he couldn’t deny he missed Janus.
Missed the way he talked, how he always knew what to say—even if it was never real, the way he’d always taken care of Virgil, no matter how many times Virgil tried to push him away.
Father, father, tell me where have you been?
It's been hell not having you here
I've been missing you so bad
And you don't seem to care
Virgil glanced at his phone to see what song was playing. A Trophy Father’s Trophy’s Son. He let out a sigh and looked ahead blankly for a few seconds before getting out of bed. He had to go make sure Patton knew he was awake, so Patton didn’t worry. Patton always worried when he didn’t get up; it usually meant Virgil didn’t sleep well. Janus never cared about details like that.
When I go to sleep at night, you're not there
When I go to sleep at night, do you care?
Greeting the other sides, he took his seat at the table, where a cup of coffee and a yogurt already sat. He wasn’t hungry, but Logan would lecture him about nutrition being necessary to function properly. He opened the container, taking a bite of it. Breakfasts were averagely quiet, apart from Remus slurping the milk from his stale bowl of cereal that was more sugar than real cereal.
Pressing his thumb and first finger to his lip, the cold metal of the spoon pressed between his fingers, he turned his head to the vacant seat. Janus used to sit in that seat, and he was never late. Well, at least when Virgil had bothered to show up. Instead now, Janus took to spending his mornings in his room, and from the rumors between Remus and Roman that had gotten back to him, it was always just Janus and a few emptied bottles before the midday hour.
Your bottles, your mistress
I need to know, I need to know
Virgil shoved another bite of yogurt into his mouth. It hadn’t ever been as if Janus hadn’t apologized. As if he never tried to make things right. It was just always... too little too late.
Why are you walking away?
'Cause I'm trying to deal with the pain
Suddenly, Virgil got to his feet, spitting the yogurt out and tossing the container into the trash, walking off. He couldn’t swallow, his throat feeling closed up, and he couldn’t be there anymore, that was for sure.
Father, father, father...
Janus had always treated Virgil like a child. As if he couldn’t handle himself. As if he had to protect Virgil from the others. He treated Virgil like a child, but he treated Virgil like his child. He had only ever been trying to help Virgil, right?
Father, father, tell me where are you now?
It's been hell not having you
Last thing I heard, you were fed up, you're skipping town
With no note telling where
When I go to sleep at night, you're not there
When I go to sleep at night, do you care?
I need to know, I need to know
Long ago, Janus gave up. Everyone knew it. Virgil knew it too. He knew that Janus gave up trying to fix things when Virgil had yelled back at him. It wasn’t Virgil’s thing to have ever acted so boldly, and that’s was a major change in his character when he left them. But what excuse was that for hurting the other?
Why are you walking away?
'Cause I'm trying to deal with the pain
Regardless how Janus had tried to make up for it, it never compensated for all he’d done to Virgil. The silencing when he rambled about his worried just a little too much growing up. Or the slamming of a door in his face anytime Virgil reached out to him to try and help. Or the absolutely tearing through his room to find whatever secrets he had, to use them against him. The fight Janus had already known was coming and was oh-so-well prepared for when Virgil had packed his bags.
Is this what you call a family?
Is this what you call a family?
Is this what you call a family?
Is this what you call a family?
Spent seven years wishing that you'd drop the line
But I carry the thought along with you in my mind
But is this what you call a family?
Is this what you call a family?
Yet, between all the lying and guilt tripping, the hope bringing and the absolute misery and pain it caused, the piercing sympathy or the pointed aggression, it hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t been enough to make Virgil stay. Virgil had made up his mind, and when he had left, he hadn’t planned to look back.
Why are you walking away?
'Cause I'm trying to deal with the pain
Why are you running away?
Why are you running away?
Tell me please, tell me please
But Virgil was all too aware of the spiral out of control Janus had been going through. And he knew all too well how Remus had been affected by it. How Remus was now more of target than ever. Remus never deserved that. But it wasn’t like Virgil did either.
Is this what you call a family?
Is this what you call a family?
Is this what you call a family?
Is this what you call a family?
