Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

After he sank out of the video, Virgil went straight to his room. He had sunk out as soon as an acceptable moment presented itself. The encounter with Deceit had left him reeling, and he needed time alone to recover.

He sat down on his bed in his corner of the mindscape, sighing and running his fingers through his hair. When he looked at his hands, he found they were shaking. He felt like so much crap. He had let Deceit fool him into thinking that the lying Side was Patton, and Virgil had bought it. For so long, too.

He felt like he’d somehow betrayed Patton by not noticing the signs earlier than he had. Now that he looked back on it, it should have been obvious right from the start. The lack of dad jokes, his reactions to the performances Thomas and Roman were putting on…Hell, he wasn’t even wearing the right clothing! He’d put on Patton’s simple grey cardigan, but Patton hadn’t worn that since Logan had gifted him the cat cardigan. But Virgil hadn’t noticed all these factors early enough, and he had allowed himself to be just as fooled as the rest of them.

His chest felt tight, like he couldn’t draw in enough oxygen.

This was just one more time Deceit had tricked him.

Someone knocked on his door and he jumped in fright, falling off the bed and landing with a hard thump onto the ground.

“Virgil? Are you alright in there?” Virgil heard Logan call from the other side of his door. “I would like to speak with you, if that is okay with you.”

“I’m fine, Logan.” He called, getting to his feet and rubbing his now sore hip. For a moment, he debated just telling the logical side that it was not, in fact, okay, and that he would prefer that Logan left him alone – which he would, and besides, what if it was Deceit in disguise again? – but he knew that he wasn’t the only one who felt guilty after having been fooled by Deceit today, and he doubted the serpentine side would try anything again so quickly, so he sighed, and opened the door.

The sight of the logical side standing as straight and upright as humanly possible greeted him. “Come in, Logan.” He said. The logical side adjusted his tie ever so slightly, and entered. Virgil sat down on his bed and gestured his guest to his desk chair. Logan sat and they fell into silence for a moment.

“Virgil.” Logan said eventually.

“Yeah?” He responded tiredly.

“I have reflected on my observations of your interactions with Deceit today, and-” Logan must have noticed the slight flinch Virgil gave at the mention of Deceit, because he stopped, a look of concern passing over his face. He quickly steeled his expression into one of indifference and started again, this time getting straight to the point.

“You know Deceit, don’t you, Virgil.” It was a question, but also a statement. Like Logan had already decided what the answer was.

“We all do.” Virgil deflected, not quite answering the question. He knew there was no point delaying this interrogation –well, it wasn’t really an interrogation, though it certainly felt like it– but he wanted to keep away from this subject. He was not prepared to face it. He hadn’t even come to terms with what had happened himself – he wasn’t ready to discuss it with Logan.

Logan seemed to disagree.

“Yes, we were always aware that Deceit was there, in the back of Thomas’ mind, but you, Virgil, seem to know him. Personally.”

“What the Hell are you talking about?” Virgil barked. Logan was right. He knew Logan was right. Logan was always right.

“You were the first of us to notice that it wasn’t really Patton.” Logan explained. “You were the first to recognise Deceit for who he was. And your interactions with him directly before and after he was revealed suggests that the two of you have a history.” Logan paused, watching Virgil for a moment, before continuing.

“When he revealed himself, he looked directly at you. Of all of us he could have focused his attention on, he chose you. Not to mention the petty banter the two of you engaged in, and the way you looked at him.”

“The way I looked at him?” Virgil snapped. Logan twitched slightly, and Virgil realised he was making his friend nervous, but his anger was taking hold, and Virgil didn’t stop. “Did it not occur to you that I was angry with him for impersonating my best friend? Our best friend? He made a mockery of Patton, and you think I was looking at him because we have a history?”

“But you do, don’t you?” Logan repeated.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” Virgil stood up from his bed, throwing his hands up. “I can’t believe you’re accusing me of-”

“Accusing?” Logan seemed confused for a moment, tilting his head slightly. “Virgil, I am not accusing you of anything. I simply would like to know the truth, as I have become curious about whatever is going on here. I have drawn a conclusion based off my own observations, and I would like you to confirm that observation, truthfully. And also…” He hesitated, and Virgil sat back down. “I believe that it would be beneficial for you to talk to someone. About this. You are clearly not enthusiastic over whatever has previously transpired between Deceit and yourself, and it is not healthy to bottle up secrets in this way. If you would allow me, I would like to assist you.”

Virgil looked at Logan, long and hard. “I don’t need assistance, Logan.” He said. “I’ve been dealing with this on my own just fine. You don’t need to worry.” Virgil quickly realised his mistake

“So there is something to deal with?” The logical side never missed anything, it seemed. Virgil sighed, and pressed his palms into his eyes.

“Yes.” He said quietly. He didn’t see Logan’s reaction, but he imagined it would have been something along the lines of silent triumph that he had finally managed to get Virgil to admit to his most shameful secret.

“Would you…like to talk about it?” Logan asked hesitantly. Virgil almost scoffed. Logan never was very good at talking to people about emotions. He stayed silent. He was done. He didn’t want to talk anymore. He leaned back against the wall, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around himself.

“We’re done here.” He said, his voice hard.

“It doesn’t have to be with me.” Logan said, almost too quickly. “You could talk to Patton, or even Roman.” He was getting desperate. Virgil couldn’t tell if it was real concern or if Logan just wanted him to spill so the logical side could be validated.

Eventually, Logan got the hint that Virgil wasn’t going to say anything else, and he stood up and left without another word. Even though the other Side closed the door softly, Virgil still flinched slightly at the sound.

He lay down on his side, still curled into a ball, and took in a deep, shaky breath. That hadn’t gone well. He had known that the other sides would probably want to talk to each other after having been manipulated by Deceit, but he hadn’t expected Logan to connect the dots so immediately, and then come hurling accusations, as correct as they were.

Virgil did have a history with Deceit, but that didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it to anyone.

A single tear slid down his cheek at the memories that rose up. How, for years, he’d let himself be tricked and manipulated by the snake-eyed side. How he had allowed Deceit to pull his strings like a puppeteer, controlling every move that Anxiety made. Another tear followed the first, as the weight of his secret suddenly seemed to fall on him all at once. Now that Logan knew, it suddenly seemed so much harder to carry this burden alone, as he had been for just over a year.

Logan probably didn’t trust him anymore. Now that he knew Virgil had been keeping information from him, he had likely decided that Virgil was no longer worthy of being trusted. He would probably warn the other sides - they were probably back in the mindscape by now - too, if he hadn’t done so already, not just about Virgil’s secret, but that the other two shouldn’t trust him not to keep more secrets in the future. Virgil groaned, holding his head in his hands. All his work to get the others to trust and accept him, and it was all gone, like leaves in the wind. One simple secret and it had all come tumbling down.

But it wasn’t just a simple secret, was it? It was a huge secret. Virgil had a history with arguably the most despised side in the mindscape. Sure, there were others, other sides that they all liked to pretend didn’t exist, but Deceit…he was the worst. And Virgil knew him, knew him well, and hadn’t told the others. Oh God, they probably all hated him now. He doubted they’d ever want to talk to him again.

He began to shake, the tears falling freely now. He'd worked so hard to gain their trust and he’d blown it. That was it. He'd lost his only friends, and it was all his stupid, stupid fault. He wouldn’t be surprised if they started treating him like the villain again. It would make sense. Only antagonists kept secrets from their friends, after all. If he was one of the good guys he would have come clean from the start, rather than hiding something like this from them.

Still shaking, more violently now, he shimmied into his warm, heavy blankets, and pulled them tightly over his head, cocooning himself in the dark. He was sobbing now, though he tried to keep himself from making too much noise, lest the others hear him. Surely, they hated him enough now anyway without him annoying them even further with his noise.

When he finally managed to get his sobbing under control, he sat quietly in the dark, wrapped around himself inside his blanket cocoon, and listened. He could hear the voices of the other sides talking to each other. He managed to make out Logan’s voice somewhere in the jumble. He held himself tighter. Logan was probably telling them all about how he'd found out Virgil was a liar who kept secrets from them. Patton might be a bit hesitant to accept it, but Roman would believe Logan straight away. It had always been easy for the creative side to cast Virgil in the role of the villain. He was anxiety personified, after all. It made sense that the personification of creativity would despise the one who held him back with doubts.

Another wave of self-loathing washed over him. If he were Roman, he would hate him too. All he ever did was bring the creative side down. Any idea Roman had Virgil would always counter with why it was a horrible idea, all the many ways it could go wrong, how it could get Thomas hurt or killed, how it could wind up with Thomas looking like an idiot and being humiliated. Virgil never contributed anything positive. He just ruined everything.

Virgil bit into his hand to stop himself from sobbing too loudly again. He wanted to get his headphones, wanted to drown out his misery in equally miserable but comforting music, but his headphones were on his desk, and getting them would require him getting out of bed, and he wanted to leave his blanket cocoon even less than he wanted his music. So he resigned himself to a music-less misery.

He tried to relax his mind. God, he wanted so badly to just fall asleep and never wake up again. He didn’t want to have to go back to the other sides hating him. It was more than he could bear. He didn’t want Logan going back to talking to him with contempt as he ignored Virgil’s concerns. He didn’t want Roman to start calling him names again. Didn’t want Patton to start ignoring him again. He had been despised by the others for so long, and now he was right back to where he started.

A pang of bitterness stabbed him. Why did Deceit have to come back? Why did the Side always strive to ruin whatever Virgil had? As if it wasn’t bad enough that he'd manipulated Virgil into doing whatever the Dark Side wanted ever since Virgil came into being, now he had to come back? After Virgil had not long escaped the lying Side’s deceitful clutches.

Virgil knew that Deceit wouldn’t just reveal himself to Thomas for no reason. The Side had to have some kind of plan, some end goal in mind. Some grand scheme. And Virgil knew that he was likely at the centre of it. Deceit had always done everything he did in a way that he knew would hurt Virgil, for the sole purpose of hurting him. This time would be no exception.

But what? What on Earth could Deceit want now? After all this time?

Virgil shook his head, deciding that he really, really didn’t want to worry about this right now. Not that he could really stop himself. He was Anxiety. He never stopped worrying.

He tried to fall asleep anyway.

Chapter Text

Patton was in the kitchen when Logan came down the staircase, looking – as much as the logical side tried to hide it – rather distressed. The moral side set down the apron he had been midway through putting on, and followed Logan into the living room, where the logical side sat down slowly on the couch, huffing slightly.

“Logan? You okay kiddo?” Patton sat down beside him, putting a hand on Logan’s shoulder.

“I am…concerned.” Patton tilted his head. “For Virgil.” He clarified.

“Why’s that?”

In the span of a few minutes, Logan told him about the observations he had made of Virgil and Deceit during the latest video, and Patton nodded along as he spoke. He hadn’t noticed any of that, but, to be completely fair to himself, he hadn’t actually been there to make any such observations, though he had noticed how intensely Virgil had been glaring at Deceit before the lying side had made his departure, but he had chalked that up to Virgil being angry on his behalf.

When Logan finished recounting what he had observed, Patton sighed. “It makes sense.” He said. “Virgil probably lived with the other Sides, Deceit included, before he came here. It would stand to reason that he and Deceit were…familiar with each other.”

“I know, Patton, but I think there is more to it than just familiarity between the two of them.” Logan adjusted his glasses slightly. “Perhaps you could talk to him. Virgil is closer to you than he is to me…perhaps he would be more willing to open up to you. I know I am not particularly good at dealing with emotions, as you are, but he needs to talk to someone about whatever it is that is plaguing him. It is not healthy to keep things bottled up.”

“You’re right, Logan.” Patton agreed. “I’ll give him a minute, then go see how he is. He didn’t look too good when I rose up in the video.”

“No, he did not, and I believe I may have made the situation worse for him.” A flash of guilt passed over the usually stoic side’s face. “It is possible that I was too…confrontational…towards him. He thought I was being accusatory, when that was not my intention.” Logan seemed genuinely distressed at the idea that he had made Virgil feel worse. Patton gave his shoulder a gentle rub, and stood.

“I’ll go check on him.” He assured the logical side.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” He gave Logan a smile, and then made his way to the staircase. As he began to climb the stairs, he passed Thomas’ fanciful side on his way down.

“Hey, Roman. How’re you feeling?” Patton inquired gently. Roman hadn’t had the best day either, he knew.

“Oh, I feel just awful!” Roman exclaimed, hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture. “I feel so used! Deceit played me so…so easily!”

Patton pulled the creative side into a hug, giving him a gentle pat on the back that he knew Roman found comforting. “Oh, don’t worry about it, Roman. I know Deceit can be very…convincing when he wants to be. That’s his nature. It’s not your fault.”

Roman pulled away, and Patton nearly gasped. The other Side was almost on the verge of tears. Deceit had really gotten to him. “Oh, Roman.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine-.” Roman started, and Patton deflated – just a little. He knew Roman wasn’t fine at all. “I’m sorry.” The creative side said almost instantly. “We literally just talked about how it is better to be honest not even ten minutes ago, and here I am, trying to convince you I’m fine, when we both know that I am not.”

“Well, that’s alright. Just try to be more conscientious of what you say.”

“I’ll try, Patton.”

“That’s all you need to do, Ro.” The two went in for another brief hug before continuing on their original pathways. Roman descended the stairs into the living room and Patton ascended the stairs into the upstairs hallway, where he passed three doors before stopping at the last door at the end of the hallway. Patton knocked on the black door three times, before pausing a moment and calling out.

“Virgil? You okay buddy?”

No response. He tried again.

“Virge, it’s me, Patton. Can I come in?”

Still nothing. Patton began to worry.

“Please let me in, Virgil. I'm worried about you. Can we talk? Please?” After a moment, he heard shuffling, the sound of rustling blankets, and a faint sniffle. The silver doorknob twisted and the door opened to reveal a clearly distraught and distressed Virgil. Oh Virge… Patton thought. His poor little anxious baby had tear tracks streaking down his face, and he could see the exhaustion practically radiating off the youngest side. Patton had to physically restrain himself from grabbing Virgil and pulling him into a tight hug; he knew Virgil didn’t like being touched suddenly.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” He asked instead.

“Nothing, Pat. I’m fine.” Virgil responded.

“Not to offend, but kiddo, you look horrible.” Patton said honestly, and he really did. The moral side could see the exhausted bruises under anxiety’s eyes even through the thick layers of eyeshadow. Virgil let out a long breath.

“Do you…wanna come in?” The anxious side asked, opening the door a little wider.

“If that’s alright with you, I'd love to.” He replied. Virgil opened the door fully and gestured for Patton to come in. He did so, and when Virgil sat down on the bed, Patton sat down beside him, close enough that their shoulders just barely touched each other. They both sat in silence for a minute, Patton trying to figure out what to say, Virgil most likely just stressing about whatever it was Patton might be thinking. The moral side then realised that the longer he sat here without saying anything, the more anxious Virgil was going to become. Tact or no tact, Patton had to say something now. He went with something simple.

“How’re you feeling, kiddo?” he asked.

“Fine.” Virgil answered.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Virgil.” Patton said. “I know you're not okay. It’s okay to not be okay, but you can’t bottle it up. It isn’t healthy.” Virgil was silent for a moment.

“What did Logan say?” He eventually asked.

“He said that he tried to talk to you. He’s worried about you, Virgil.”

“Really? I thought Logan stayed away from emotions like that.” Virgil huffed.

“He may not admit it, but Logan isn’t just some cold, emotionless robot, Virge. He has feelings; he just pretends he doesn’t because he doesn’t know how to deal with them from a logical standpoint. He may not always understand his emotions, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have any.” Patton looked at Virgil sitting beside him. The youngest side was hunched in on himself, his head hanging.

“Listen, Virgil, I know you don’t like to talk about what happened with your life before you got here, but I'd like to talk about it now. I think you’ve been repressing whatever it was that happened for far too long, and I'd like to hear everything from you, before Deceit decides to spring any more surprises on us that you might not like sprung.” Patton didn’t miss how Virgil flinched when he mentioned the ‘Dark Side’, as Roman liked to call him.

“Virgil, honey. I know it might be hard to talk about. I have no idea what your past was like, but I know that Deceit was a part of it…and this may sound harsh, but…eventually someone is going to tell us – me and the other two – what happened to you. But would you rather it be you, or Deceit?”

Virgil really did flinch then, and Patton felt horrible. He had no idea what Virgil’s life had been like, and here he was trying to worm the information out of Virgil like some sort of interrogator. He knew it had to be said eventually, for Virgil’s own wellbeing, but he still felt guilty for being the one to ask him to reveal his past. He was about to apologise, but then –

“You’re right.” Virgil’s voice was low and husky, but not in the sexy romance novel way. It was more as if he had screamed himself hoarse. Patton’s chest tightened at the thought.

“I do…need to talk to someone, I think.” He looked up to face Patton then, and Patton felt so proud of his dark strange son for finally trusting him enough to open up and share his burden. “But not the others. Not yet. I know Logan tries, but I don’t think he'd understand –it won’t make sense to him, logically, and Roman…” Virgil took a breath, and Patton waited patiently for him to finish his sentence. “Roman…has always found it too easy to cast me as the villain, and…this story will make it even easier for him.” Patton shook his head slightly, but didn’t say anything. He knew that Roman still harboured some guilt over the way he treated Virgil for all these years. The creative side had learned from his mistakes.

He wanted to tell Virgil this, but he knew right now it didn’t matter to the anxious side as much as Patton's support did.

“I won’t pressure you to tell either of them anything,” he swore, “and I won’t tell them anything either. I promise.”

“Thank you.” Virgil breathed, leaning into Patton's shoulder a little bit.

“Don’t mention it, kiddo.” Patton smiled warmly at him, trying to give the anxious side a little more confidence, even when his own heart rate was slightly higher than normal. He was both excited to hear Virgil’s story, because he would finally find out what Virgil’s life had been like before he had joined the three of them, but he was also dreading the story to come, because he knew that whatever had happened before Virgil had come here, whatever had transpired between Virgil and Deceit, wasn’t good.

He gave Virgil a moment to collect himself before asking, “So, where do you want to start?”

“At the beginning, I guess.”

Chapter Text

When Virgil had first met Deceit, it was in the darkness of Thomas’ subconscious.

He had been alone, content to allow all of Thomas’ thoughts, positive and negative, to swirl around him in whispers, half-thoughts that had the potential to become something more but probably never would. Virgil liked the subconscious. It comforted him, being around other useless things that were unnecessary to Thomas but were there all the same.

Virgil had not been part of Thomas for long, though. Thomas was nearly finished high school now, and Anxiety had only been here for a few years. None of the other sides had noticed him, though he'd noticed them. There were the three main sides, Patton, Roman and Logan, who were the embodiment of Thomas’ Morality, Creativity and Logic, respectively. Those three were important; they were the core of who Thomas was, and all the good in him came from them.

Virgil was Thomas’ Anxiety. He was the bad thing.

When Virgil had first come into being, he had almost tried to make contact with the main three. He had ventured into the mindscape where they lived and had observed them for a little bit, trying to work out how to introduce himself, but the longer he looked, the more he had worried. What if they didn’t like him? What if he messed everything up? What if his anxiety ruined all the fun they seemed to have on their own? What if they hated him? He didn’t want them to hate him. He scared himself so much that he ran away without ever actually introducing himself. Somehow, he found himself in the subconscious, and he had stayed there. He had stayed there alone, and for a very, very long time.

He didn’t really know how long he'd been alone there when suddenly he wasn’t.

The moment another Side entered the subconscious, his senses went on red alert. He immediately stood, his head whipping around to try and find whoever it was that had entered, but, more importantly, to find a place to hide from the intruder. His mind began to race. No one had ever come here before! What were they doing here? Who were they? Was it Morality? Creativity? Logic?

His thoughts came to a sudden halt when the mysterious side finally got close enough for him to see, and he realised it was not any of the main three. This side wasn’t wearing a tie or a cardigan or a sash, but rather, this side wore a bowler hat, a black suit with yellow accents, and a black cape that sat over his shoulders and was clasped at the front. As jarring as it was to Virgil to realise that there was a fourth side he didn’t know about, nothing shocked him as much as when this unknown side stopped in front of him, and Virgil could see his face.

Snake scales covered almost the entire left side of the Side’s face, and his left eye was yellow, with a slitted pupil. He also had a strangely highlighted jawline. His entire face left Virgil slightly terrified, especially when those lips curled into a lopsided grin. Virgil shrank back a few steps, but the side followed.

“Hello there, how wonderful to meet you.” The Side said. He had a low, sultry voice that set Virgil on edge.

“H-hi.” Virgil stammered, edging back a little more. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. This was the first time he'd ever interacted with another Side before.

“My name is Deceit.” The side said, holding his hand out expectantly. After a moment, Virgil realised that Deceit wanted to shake his hand.

“Oh, uh,” Virgil awkwardly clasped Deceit’s hand, and once his brain stopped screaming at him that he was actually touching another side, he was surprised by how strong the other side’s grip was. “A-anxiety.” He said.

“That’s your function, but what is your actual name? Surely you have one.”

“Uh…what’s yours?” He asked instead of answering. He didn’t know why, but the idea of telling this side, Deceit, what his name was just made him feel all sorts of anxiousness. There was something about reveal his name that Virgil just didn’t like.

“I don’t have a name.” Deceit said.

“But…the others do?” Virgil was confused, and he shrank back a little.

“Well, yes, but they are main sides.” Deceit shrugged a shoulder, angling his head slightly so that his snake scales were in Virgil's direct line of sight. “I'm not part of Thomas’ core personality, so I don’t have a name. Do you?” He pressed.

“N-no.” Virgil lied, glad to have found a reason not to reveal his name. If Deceit didn’t have one, maybe he could pretend that he didn’t have one either.

Something squeezed his hand, almost painfully, and Virgil realised that Deceit still had his hand in his grip. Feeling awkward, he tried to pull his hand back, but the serpentine Side didn’t let go.

“So, where is it that you live?” He asked instead.

“Where do I…live?” Virgil was once again left confused. Was he supposed to live somewhere other than the subconscious? He knew the main three lived in a house in the mindscape, but they were…the main three. They were at Thomas’ core, of course they had somewhere specific that they resided, but Virgil was just…Thomas’ anxiety. Her wasn’t important enough to actually have a residence in the mind, was he?

“Yes,” Deceit said exasperatedly. “Where do you live?”

“H-here.” Virgil responded meekly, gesturing his hand at the dark expanse of empty space all around them.

“Well, that won’t do at all.” Deceit proclaimed, tugging Virgil's hand and pulling the anxious side closer to him. “You shall come with me, to my residence.”

“W-hat?” Panic suddenly gripped Virgil, and he tried to pull away, to no avail. “N-no, I-I live h-here, you don’t n-need to t-take me anyw-where.” God, he wished he would stop stuttering and talk like a normal person, but his mind was moving too fast for his mouth, and he couldn’t slow it down because he was hyper fixating on the fact that Deceit wouldn’t let go of his hand!

“Easy now, clam down.” Deceit was saying, but Virgil couldn’t stop trying to yank his hand away, but God, Deceit had such a strong grip and he couldn’t get free and he was trapped, he was trapped he was trapped he was trapped and-

“Hey!” Deceit rose his voice, snapping his fingers in front of Virgil's face, and the anxious side froze; his fight or flight reflexes abandoned, giving way to the less commonly known freeze instinct. He stood stock still, his eyes wide and his entire body shaking.

“Easy now,” Deceit repeated. “Calm. Down. You don’t need to panic, but you can't stay here, either. I have a house nearby. You can come live with me. A Side can't just live out here in the subconscious; eventually you’ll fade away, and fading is just like dying. You don’t want to die, do you?”

Virgil shook his head violently, not breaking eye contact with Deceit, purely because he didn’t seem physically capable of doing so.  “N-no.” He stuttered. “I don’t want to d-die.”

“Then come with me.” Deceit said, his voice softer now. “I promise I won't hurt you.” He positioned himself beside Virgil and let go of the anxious Side’s hand, and Virgil was relieved the contact had ended, as his hand felt like it was burning after being touched for the first time in his life and then having been held for so long. The reprieve was short, though, as Deceit then placed a hand at the small of Virgil's back, and began to ease the smaller side forward. As his mind once again began to hyper-fixate on the pressure of Deceit’s hand pressing through the hoodie on his back, he didn’t really notice that Deceit was once again talking. He didn’t really notice anything until suddenly they had stopped outside of a house that was situated seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

The house was a simple two-storey building, an almost exact replica of the home Thomas currently shared with his family, except this version had a much darker palette of paint. Virgil didn’t have a whole lot of time to gawk, however, because Deceit quickly ushered him inside, shutting and locking the door behind him.

The snake-eyed side didn’t bother showing him around the house, instead choosing to take him straight up the staircase into the second level of the house. The hallway contained a few doors, and Deceit chose a door at the very end of the hall and opened it, gesturing for Virgil to go inside. He did so, and when he was in the room Deceit joined him inside and shut the door. For some reason, the sound of the door closing made him flinch, ever so slightly.

“Now, this will be your room, Anxiety.” Deceit said. “It’s right opposite mine.” Virgil noted that the room was small, containing only a single bed in the corner, and a closet on the opposite wall. Deceit opened the aforementioned closet door and, with a wave of his hand, a few sets of clothing appeared on the hangers. Virgil didn’t get a good look before the door was shut again, but it appeared that Deceit had simply conjured some simple variations of what Virgil was already wearing – a dark grey and black hoodie, a black shirt and a dark grey pair of ripped jeans. “There, now you have clothes.” Deceit said.

“Th-thank you.” Virgil responded timidly.

“You’re welcome.” Was Deceit’s simple response. For an awkward second, Virgil didn’t know what to say. He was spared having to find something to say when a deep rumbling noise sounded from his stomach.

“It would appear that you are hungry.” Deceit observed.

“But I…I’ve never been hungry before?” Virgil didn’t understand why he was suddenly hungry now after never having been before.

“That’s because you’ve been living in the subconscious for all these years.” Deceit explained. “When you’re in there, you don’t need food or water or anything like that, but when you’re in the mindscape, you’re basically a human, with all the same bodily needs and functions.”

“Oh.”

“Now, shall we get you something to eat?” Deceit clapped his hands together and then opened the door, exiting the small room that was now Virgil's and gesturing for the anxious side to follow. Virgil complied, keeping a few paces behind the other side as he led him back down the staircase and into the kitchen.

Virgil stood in the kitchen awkwardly as Deceit grabbed something from the pantry and put it in the microwave.

“So, Anxiety.” Deceit said as he grabbed a small plate from the cupboard and set it on the bench. “How old are you?”

“You mean…how long have I been with Thomas?” Virgil asked tentatively, wanting to make certain he knew exactly what Deceit was asking before he answered.

“Precisely.”

“Uh…a few years now, I think.” He responded, wringing his hands together. “I was never really keeping track.” He paused for a moment. “Wh-what about you? Are you…older than me?”

“Obviously.” Deceit said, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve been around since Thomas was a child.”

“Oh.” Virgil looked at his feet, not really sure what to do. They stood in awkward silence – well, at least it was awkward to Virgil – for another minute or so, until the microwave went off and Deceit told him to sit down at the table. Nervously, Virgil pulled out a chair and sat, and then Deceit handed him a plate, with a steaming hot meat pie perched atop it.

“Go on.” Deceit encouraged. Virgil looked around for a knife or a fork – he was pretty sure you were supposed to eat food with utensils, right? – but there were none. After a few moments, Deceit chuckled. “You eat meat pies with your hands, dummy.” He said.

“Oh.” Virgil repeated. Carefully, he picked the pie up with his hands. The pie was hot and burned his skin, but Virgil thought that it was probably supposed to be this way. Why would Deceit have given him the pie so hot if it wasn’t intended to be eaten at that temperature? Tentatively, he took a bite, and had to restrain himself from spitting the hot meat back out. It was so hot that he almost could not taste the meat. Tears welled in his eyes, but he forced himself to swallow the scorching food. Glancing up, he saw Deceit, still standing, smiling down at him.

“Th-thank you.” He managed, before taking another bite of the pie, and again, and again until he was done. It burned him the entire way through.

Chapter Text

A few weeks passed and Virgil was settling in well enough at Deceit’s home. He did his best to be appreciative and grateful, but sometimes he slipped up. He was thankful though that Deceit always let him know if he was being rude or unappreciative.

He tried his best, though; trying to remember to thank Deceit anytime the older Side gave him food. He even offered to do the dishes sometimes. Right now was one such time, and as he was scrubbing excess food off the plate in the sink, he heard a loud bang come from upstairs, followed by low muttering. Virgil suspected that there was at least one other side living in the house with Deceit and himself, but no such side had ever approached him, and Virgil did not intend to seek him out.

Besides, if Deceit wanted him to meet the other Side, he would have introduced them. That he had not done so suggested to Virgil that Deceit didn’t actually want them to meet, and Virgil was not going to actively go against what Deceit wanted. The older side could be quite…frightening…if Virgil did things wrong.

A few days ago, Virgil had accidentally dropped a cup when he was collecting the dishes after dinner. Thankfully, the cup had been plastic, so nothing was broken. Deceit had been angry nonetheless.

***

“What if that had have been glass?” Deceit yelled, standing up from the table and storming towards Virgil, who still had the rest of the dishes in his grip. Desperate not to drop any more of them, he clutched them tightly to his chest as he backed away, until his back hit the bench. Deceit stood far too close for Virgil's comfort, and the anxious side’s heart raced and he tried to make himself smaller as he apologised.

“I’m s-s-sorry!” He stuttered, lowering his head.

“Don’t look away from me!” Deceit snapped, grabbing Virgil's chin tightly and forcing him to look up.

“I-I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry.” He whimpered. For a moment, nothing happened, but then Deceit took a deep breath, and his expression changed from one of anger to something calmer. He sighed, letting go of Virgil's chin.

“I apologise for yelling at you.” He said as he put his hand on Virgil's shoulder. “But you need to be more careful. I’ve taken you in and given you a home, and I just don’t want you to wreck it with your clumsiness. Pay more attention next time.”

“I-I-I-I w-will, I-I-I’m, I’m, I’m s-sorry.” Virgil stuttered again, wanting nothing more than for Deceit to stop touching him. But the serpentine side was right; he had taken Virgil in, given him food and a room, with a bed and clothes, and how did Virgil pay him back? By dropping his stuff? Deceit had every right to yell at Virgil. He just had to take it and improve himself.

“I know you’re sorry.” Deceit said. “Just make sure it does not happen again.”

“It won’t. I prom-p-promise.”

“Good.” Deceit took his hand off Virgil's shoulder, and Virgil stumbled a little, the plates and the cutlery from that night’s dinner still clutched tightly to his chest. His entire body was shaking, and tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he struggled to draw in enough breath. Deceit had never yelled at him like that before. Sure, he’d snapped at him a few times when Virgil had messed up, but he’d never outright yelled at him. This was new, and scary, and Virgil didn’t know how to deal with it.

Still shaking, he gently put the plates and the cutlery into the sink, turning on the hot water and retrieving the dishwashing liquid from the cupboard below. When he reached down to grab it, he realised the gravy from the plates had stained his shirt. It would have to be washed.

As a tear spilled down his cheek, he plunged his hands into the boiling water and began to scrub the plates clean.

***

Hands shaking slightly at the recent memory, Virgil continued to wash the dishes, taking extra care not to bang any of them on the side of the sink. He hadn’t been yelled at again since he dropped the cup, and he wanted to keep it that way, so he did his best to make sure he did everything exactly the way Deceit wanted them done. In fact, he was so absorbed in making sure he completed his task correctly that he didn’t notice when the aforementioned Side descended the staircase from the upper floor and crept up behind him.

He jumped violently when Deceit lay a hand on his shoulder, and only just managed to suppress a squeal as he tried to turn around. His body was met with resistance, however, as Deceit was so close, pressed up against Virgil so that he was trapped between the counter and Deceit’s body. The older side rested his head on the younger’s shoulder.

Virgil froze, not knowing what else to do. This was the closest Deceit had ever been to him, and he didn’t know how to respond. What was he supposed to do? What was Deceit doing? Had he done something wrong, what was –

“Don’t stop on my account.” Deceit purred. Not wanting to defy Deceit, Virgil quickly went back to scrubbing the dishes, making sure the plates were completely free of food before placing them on the drying rack, the cups and cutlery quickly following suit. When that was all done, he pulled the plug from the sink, letting the water drain as he reached over to grab the towel he needed to dry the dishes. However, as he stretched his arm out, he realised that it was just slightly too far away for him to reach without moving; and he didn’t want to move, lest he risk vexing Deceit.

His arm lay outstretched in the air awkwardly, as his mind began to panic. What should he do? He needed the towel, but Deceit clearly wanted him to stay in this spot. If he moved, would Deceit become angry with him? But if he didn’t get the towel, he couldn’t finish the dishes, which would also make Deceit angry.

After a few more moments of panic, he realised there was only one option.

He would need to ask Deceit to pass him the towel.

Virgil drew in a deep breath. “D-Deceit?”

“Yes?” The older side’s voice was low, sultry, and it sent chills down Virgil's spine.

“C-could you please p-pass me the t-t-ow- the towel?”

“Seeing as you asked so nicely.” Deceit responded, reaching over and picking up the towel with ease. “Here you go.” He said as he placed the towel in Virgil's hand.

“Thank-thank you.” Virgil shakily dried all the dishes, and it seemed to take forever, but eventually he finished, and set the towel back down. It didn’t take very long for Virgil to realise that he was still facing a very similar problem. With Deceit effectively trapping him (don’t think about being trapped! Trapped trapped trapped!) against the counter, there was no way Virgil could return the clean dishes to their respective homes in the high cupboard and the cutlery draw.

He began to full body shake now. He didn’t know what to do. If he asked Deceit to move so he could put away the dishes, Deceit might think Virgil was trying to tell him what to do, but if he didn’t, Deceit would be annoyed that Virgil wasn’t finishing his job properly. There was no way he could possibly win in this situation. What was he supposed to do?

His inner monologue of panic was brought to a screeching halt when Deceit grabbed Virgil's behind in his hand.

Virgil yelped, startled, and his fight or flight reflexes took over. He squirmed, trying to get away, but Deceit just gripped his shoulder with his other hand and squeezed, tight, and pressed himself harder against Virgil, pushing him painfully into the side of the counter. “Don’t move.” Deceit said quietly, the hint of a warning in his tone.

“W-w-w-what a-are, what are y-you do-doing?” Virgil's mind raced, and despite the older side’s instructions, he continued to wriggle. He didn’t like Deceit’s hand being on his butt, no-no-no-no-no he didn’t like that at all, the touch felt invasive and he had to get that hand off, off off off!

“Oh come now,” Deceit tutted, squeezing Virgil's butt a little more. “I’ve given you all you could ever need, and you’re not even going to let me have the one thing I ask of you? How ungrateful.”

“I-I’m sorry.” He stuttered, still desperately trying to find a way out of this. It was scary, it was scary and uncomfortable and frightening and he didn’t like it and he just wanted Deceit to stop touching him. “I don’t, I mean I didn’t – I don’t mean to be un-ungrate-ungrateful, but I don’t-”

“Hush.”

Virgil complied, mostly because he was struggling to breathe, and the more he talked the less he could breathe and the less he could breathe the more panicked he became.

“There’s a good boy.” Deceit breathed. “Are you going to keep fighting me? I have to say, I’ll be very disappointed if you do. After everything I’ve done for you, I only ask this in return. It would be very selfish of you to deny me this one thing after I have done so much for you.” Deceit paused, letting his words sink in.

Virgil didn’t want to be selfish, not after everything Deceit had done for him, but he was scared – so scared, and he knew what Deceit wanted. Knew that the older side wanted much, much more than to just touch Virgil's backside, but it was the only thing Deceit wanted from him, even after everything he had given. Who was Virgil to deny him what he wanted?

But he was so, so scared.

“Are you going to keep fighting me?” Deceit repeated.

Virgil stopped wriggling, his head hung low, and he knew Deceit understood that he had his answer.

“Good boy.” He praised softly. Virgil felt the hand let go of his behind, and then in one swift movement, Deceit spun him around, lifted him up, and began to walk toward the staircase. Virgil yelped, gripping onto Deceit’s cape as tightly as he could. The tightness in his chest only increased as they ascended to the upper floor. His stomach felt like it was filled with lead as Deceit opened the door to his bedroom, entered, and shut it behind them. His breath hitched when he heard the click of the lock.

Deceit placed him gently down onto the bed, not even bothering to turn on the light, and slowly, painfully slowly, began to remove Virgil's clothing. First the hoodie, then the shirt. Virgil's shoes were the next to go.

He tried to repress a sob as Deceit undid his belt, the leather hissing against denim as it was pulled free, then tossed carelessly to the side. When Deceit began to unzip his jeans, Virgil couldn’t help but whimper.

By the time he was naked, Virgil was crying, the tears falling silently down his face.

He didn’t really notice Deceit undressing himself; it seemed that one minute he was clothed, and the next he was not. However, Virgil definitely noticed when Deceit crawled on top of him.

“Easy now, don’t cry.” Deceit said softly, wiping away a tear with his finger. “It’ll be okay.” Virgil only sobbed harder.

Deceit looked down at him with a soft smile, before reaching down and grazing his finger against Virgil's hole. The younger side flinched, squeezing his eyes shut and turning his head to the side. Deceit let out a soft, breathy laugh, and continued his ministrations, and then, without warning, he entered a finger into Virgil.

Virgil's eyes shot open and he gasped. It hurt. That didn’t seem to bother Deceit much, though, as, after a minute, he added another finger. Virgil cried out in pain, but the serpentine side paid him no mind as he began to scissor his fingers, stretching Virgil's inside. He groaned in pain and closed his eyes again, crying and trying to block out the pain, along with everything else.

As Deceit continued to scissor inside of him, he reached up with his other hand and cupped Virgil's cheek in his palm, lifting his head.

“Look at me, Anxiety.” He commanded, his voice quiet. When Virgil didn’t do as he asked, the older side suddenly thrust a third finger into him, and Virgil cried out in pain. “I said look at me, Anxiety!” Deceit repeated, his voice hard. Whimpering, Virgil did as he was told, his eyelids fluttering open to see Deceit’s snake-eye staring down at him.

“Good boy.” Deceit praised, pulling his lips into a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “Good boy.” He said again, lowering himself to press his lips firmly against Virgil's.

Virgil flinched, but didn’t respond, and Deceit bit his lip impatiently. Virgil gasped as blood leaked down to his chin, and as soon as his lips parted Deceit’s tongue darted into his mouth and began to explore. Virgil nearly retched. It felt so gross, so wrong, that he almost forgot about the fingers in his ass.

Deceit continued to kiss him with bruising force, and Virgil just lay there and took it, his arms laying weakly at his sides, his hands gripping the bedsheets so hard it hurt.

When Deceit finally removed his fingers, Virgil almost sighed in relief. Except that Virgil knew what came after fingers.

His breathing hitched again as he felt Deceit’s manhood press against his entrance, and he gripped the sheets even tighter, if that were possible. A second passed by, and then, quickly, Deceit thrust into him, and Virgil let out a strangled cry of pain. God, it hurt, it hurt so much!

He sobbed harder as Deceit began to move inside of him, rocking his hips back and forth, as he abandoned the assault on Virgil's mouth and moved to his jawline, down his neck, to the base of his throat. The older side began to suck on his skin, and Virgil just stared at the ceiling.

It seemed like hours before Deceit finally finished, collapsing onto Virgil and twisting to the side, spooning Virgil from behind. Virgil didn’t really process anything after that. Didn’t notice as Deceit cleaned himself up, then cleaned up Virgil and then removed the blanket they’d done it on. Didn’t notice when Deceit returned them both to the bed and spooned him from behind again, intertwining both of their legs as he gripped the younger side tightly in his arms from beneath the remaining blankets.

Virgil didn’t feel anything after that. He just felt numb.

Chapter Text

Virgil woke to the crushing feeling of Deceit’s arms wrapped around him. For a few moments his still half-asleep brain tried to figure out why he was being spooned from behind by the serpentine side. Eventually, wakefulness brought with it clarity, and memories of the night before. His body froze for a moment, before his fight or flight reflexes kicked in and he began to struggle, trying to pry himself free from Deceit’s arms as his breathing became unsteady.

If Deceit wasn’t already awake, he certainly was now. As Virgil squirmed and tried to pull his own arms free of the other’s, the older side gripped Virgil even tighter, pulling his weak frame closer to his chest, and let a hand wander up to play with Virgil's hair. Virgil could feel Deceit’s morning wood press into his backside, and he became suddenly aware of the intense pain he felt there as a result of what the older side had done to him that night. His breathing became even more erratic.

“Where are you going, Anxiety?” He purred into the younger side’s ear, effectively scaring Virgil into stillness once more.

“I, I wasn’t – I mean I didn’t, I d-don’t, I’m-” Virgil began to softly cry as he tried and failed to form some sort of coherent sentence, but the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was blabber and stutter and hope that Deceit would leave him alone.

Deceit hushed him as his fingers traced lazy circles onto Virgil's exposed skin. The hand in his hair moved to cup his face, and he thumbed away the tears slowly streaking down Virgil's cheeks. “Why are you crying?” The older side asked softly.

“I-it hurts.” He whimpered. “I think I’m b-bleeding.”

“Well, let’s check, shall we?” Virgil sobbed once more as the hand cupping his face moved behind him to gently prod at his hole. Virgil flinched and hissed in pain, eliciting a huff of amusement from the side behind him. Deceit removed his fingers. “It would seem you are.” Deceit confirmed, bringing his hand back up to grip Virgil's shoulder and twist him so that he was laying on his belly, the side of his face pressed into the pillow at an uncomfortable angle. The younger side shuddered at the sticky feeling of his own blood on his skin. He felt Deceit prop himself up and move so that he was above Virgil.

“Blood makes for good lube, you know.” Deceit said, his voice sultry. Before Virgil could beg him not to, Deceit had thrust inside of him, the older side’s hands holding his hips in a bruising grip as he moved. The anxious side began to cry in full earnest now, suddenly feeling as though he might throw up. Deceit was going slower than he had last night, but it still hurt – so, so much. His backside felt like it was on fire even as Deceit moaned in pleasure, pushing himself even deeper into Virgil. He cried out in pain, gripping the sheets once more, his eyes squeezed shut. Why is this happening? He wondered, desperately trying to understand. Why did Deceit want to hurt him like this? He knew that he had to repay Deceit in some way for taking him in and keeping him alive, but why did it have to be this? Wasn’t there some other way that didn’t make him feel so sick, inside and out?

Somewhere along the way, Deceit’s hand had found its way back into Virgil's hair, and the older side gripped it harshly. Virgil moaned in pain, burying his face into the pillow. It made it harder to breathe, but at least it would stop his eyelids from fluttering open and making eye contact with Deceit, who would grin down at him in a way that made Virgil want to hide somewhere and never come out.

He tried to think of something else, anything else, in an attempt to escape from what was happening to him. He tried to think of music, animals, musicals, movies, anything, but some jarring movement from Deceit always inevitably interrupted each train of thought. What he wouldn’t give to be back in the subconscious, alone. God, why had he ever agreed to come here? Why had he let Deceit bring him here?

Virgil sobbed into the pillow. Every alarm bell had gone off in his head the moment Deceit had entered the subconscious, but somehow Virgil had let the serpentine side convince him that he was safer here, with him. He was supposed to be the one that saw any and all danger and worked to avoid it, but he had gone with him anyway. ‘I promise I won't hurt you’, Deceit had said.

Deceit had lied.

He had hurt him. He was hurting him, and he didn’t seem to care.

A terrified yelp escaped him when Deceit’s hand curled down underneath him and touched his groin. The older side chuckled, grabbing hold, and Virgil whimpered brokenly. Deceit began to fondle him, and not too long later, found his release, collapsing on top of Virgil just as he had the night before. They lay there like that for several minutes, Deceit breathing heavily and Virgil breathing frantically, desperately trying to get oxygen into his lungs as Deceit crushed him.

“We really should shower.” Deceit eventually murmured, slowly pulling out of Virgil, who wined in pain. Deceit crawled off the bed, and instructed Virgil to do the same. When Virgil did nothing, the other side grabbed his head and twisted it so that Virgil was facing him. Deceit repeated himself; this time making direct eye contact with the younger. Virgil couldn’t bring himself to move. He watched Deceit, his eyes pleading, trying to make the other man understand.

“If you don’t get off that bed, I'm going to take it to mean you want round two.”

Virgil sobbed. He couldn’t move, couldn’t make his limbs obey his commands. He tried to make his legs work, tried to shuffle – even if he fell off the bed, it was better than staying here and having to endure all of that again – but it seemed he had lost all control of his body.

Deceit tutted and moved back towards Virgil. He flinched, but Deceit simply picked him up off the bed and held him bridal style, carrying him toward a door, which he somehow managed to open without dropping him. Deceit pushed the door open and carried Virgil into a bathroom. He set the younger side down on the floor and moved to the shower, turning it on and adjusting the temperature until he was satisfied. When he was, he returned to Virgil, hoisted him to his feet, and pulled the anxious side into the shower with him.

Pleasantly hot water sprayed down onto him, soaking him almost instantly, and he bit back a moan, however, the relaxed feeling he felt was short-lived when Deceit began to rub Virgil's skin with something, and Virgil remembered he wasn’t in here alone.

He looked down and realised that Deceit had lathered up a washcloth with soap and was using it to clean the blood from Virgil's shoulder, making slow, lazy circles on the anxious side’s skin. When all traces of it were gone, Deceit moved lower. Virgil shuddered. He wanted to do that himself. Why did Deceit have to clean him? Why couldn’t he clean himself? Surely he was capable of at least that much. Surely Deceit didn’t think he was that inept, did he?

It didn’t matter, Virgil realised. He was the guest here. It wasn’t his place to question the things Deceit wanted; he was only allowed to facilitate and do as he was told.

But God, did it make him want to be sick.

Stop it. He told himself, though even his inner voice sounded desperate and pathetic. He took you in; he saved you! If this is the only way he wants to be repaid then that’s just how it is!

But why does it have to hurt so much? He asked himself.

The inner voice had no response.

Suddenly a pair of fingers snapped in front of his face and he flinched violently, knocking himself into the shower wall. Deceit snorted in amusement.

“I meant what I said, you know.” He gave Virgil a lopsided grin that sent shivers down his spine. “About round two.”

Virgil wasn’t crying, not again. That was just the water from the shower running down his face.

At least, that’s what he told himself as Deceit entered him for the second time that morning.

When he was done, Deceit cleaned Virgil again, this time being much more thorough in his ministrations, making sure the younger side was clean as a whistle. He then commanded Virgil to do the same for him. With shaky hands, Virgil took the washcloth and tried to disconnect once again as he attempted to swiftly repeat Deceit’s actions. As he did, he wondered when the hot water would run out, and if it did, would Deceit make him continue in the cold water or would he get out?

The hot water never did run out by the time Deceit had decided they were finished showering. He turned off the taps, pulled Virgil out, dried himself and then dried Virgil. With a snap of his fingers, the serpentine side was fully clothed, but he led Virgil naked out of the bathroom, past the dishevelled bed, and across the hall into Virgil's room, where he opened the closet, selected an assortment of clothes, and dressed the younger side by hand.  Virgil kept his gaze downcast the entire time, not saying a word, allowing himself to be puppeteered by Deceit. When he was finally dressed, Deceit guided him downstairs.

As they descended the staircase, Virgil noted some noises coming from the kitchen, though he could only see a vague shadow of a person within. Before they got too close, Deceit stopped, gripping Virgil's arm tightly, and cleared his throat.

The side in the kitchen let out a muffled shriek as they dropped something that clanged loudly on the floor, and the shadow descended before disappearing completely. The side had sunk out.

“I’ll deal with him later.” Deceit muttered, a half-grin gracing his face. Virgil shivered. Deceit continued to direct him into the kitchen, sitting him down at the table –Virgil tried to hide his wince of pain as his horribly sore backside was pushed down onto the hard chair – and stepping around the items that had been dropped, not attempting to pick them up and put them away. “What would you like for breakfast, Anxiety?” He asked.

Virgil struggled to make his voice work properly as he responded. “I’m not, not hu-hung-gry.” He croaked. He glanced at the older side, who shrugged.

“Your loss.” He dismissed with a wave of his hand. “But if you're not going to eat you can sit there and wait for me whilst I eat something.” He didn’t care. At this point, Virgil was just grateful he wasn’t going to be forced to eat something. He was pretty sure that if he put any food into his belly now, he'd just throw it straight back up again, and then he'd have to clean it up.

He sat in silence as Deceit pulled eggs and bacon out of the fridge and started cooking them on the frying pan. As they cooked, the smell wafted over to him, and he began to feel even more nauseous. His stomach churned and he pressed a hand to it gently, stifling a moan of pain. He stopped paying attention to what the older side was doing in favour of zoning out. There wasn’t any one particular thing he was really thinking about, he just sat there and let the thoughts flow. Every time they landed back to the previous night and this morning, he felt his chest tighten and his breath catch. He tried desperately not to think about it, but after a while, it was all he could think about. He could still feel Deceit’s hands on him, still feel his –

Stop it! He thought. Stop thinking about it! Except he couldn’t. It was the only thought swirling around in his brain, replaying the experience, over and over again, until Virgil couldn’t even register the real world anymore. His breathing became erratic as the memories became too overpowering. He began to hyperventilate, and when he felt something touch his arm, he screamed, launching himself in the opposite direction. He didn’t really feel the pain of hitting the ground, he just scooted backwards until his back hit something and he couldn’t move anymore. Something touched him again and he shrieked, bringing his arms up to cover his face as he tried to breathe through the sobs that had started to wrack his body.

He flinched away from a third touch, whimpering. Terrified, he waited for another touch to come, but it never did. Still crying, he tried to regain control of his breathing, drawing in as deep a breath as he could. He didn’t know how long he cowered on the floor for, but when he eventually managed to calm himself down enough to uncurl himself and regulate his breathing somewhat, he brought his arms away from his face and opened his eyes.

He had to blink the tears away so he could see, but when he could, his eyes sought out Deceit instantly. The older side was sitting at the kitchen table, slowly eating his eggs and bacon, watching him with an expression of distaste Virgil knew wasn’t from the food. When they made eye contact, Deceit raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“Are you done yet?” He asked apathetically.

“I’m s-sorry, I didn’t, I m-mean I don’t, I mean I-”

“Oh stop with your blubbering, already.” Deceit said exasperatedly. “If you can’t speak properly don’t bother speaking.”

Virgil shut up. The corner of Deceit’s mouth quirked.

“See, that’s better.” He nodded toward the chair Virgil had fallen off. “Now why don’t you get off the floor and sit up at the table like a good boy, okay Anxiety?”

Not trusting himself to speak articulately, he simply nodded, and picked himself up off the floor. Painfully, he made his way back to the chair and gently sat himself down, doing his best not to hiss in pain.  He watched silently as Deceit finished his breakfast, picked up his plate and put it in the sink. When he was done he looked back over his shoulder and grinned.

“We’re going to have fun today, right, Anxiety?”

All Virgil could do was nod silently as he trembled.

Chapter Text

Virgil ducked his head and mumbled an apology, as Deceit yelled at him for the third time that week about how difficult it was for Deceit to look after him. He wasn’t sure exactly when, but he figured that the novelty of having Virgil in the house had worn off for Deceit, and now taking care of Virgil had become a chore for him.

And Deceit made sure he knew it.

“I mean seriously, do you know how much time I have to waste looking after you? I have to feed you and make sure you’re clean and drink water and Jesus, it’s like you’re a pet or something! All I ask is you show a little appreciation, is that really so much? Anxiety, are you listening to me? ANXIETY!”

Abruptly, Deceit grabbed two fistfuls of Virgil's shirt and yanked him forward, eliciting a startled yelp from the anxious side’s lips as he was forced in Deceit’s space, even though it felt more like his own space was being invaded.

“Are you paying attention to anything I'm saying, you ungrateful piece of shit?” Deceit snarled, his snake-eye almost glinting.

“Y-yes I a-am! I’m s-so, I’m sorry!”

“Oh my God, stop with the stuttering!”

Virgil squeaked and shut his mouth, and Deceit pushed him into the bench as he let go of Virgil's shirt. Virgil made a sound of pain as his back collided harshly with the bench, but said nothing. Deceit made a sound of annoyance, rolled his eyes, and left the room. Virgil waited a minute before moving, too busy trying to get his erratic breathing to calm down to worry about doing anything else. When he had it relatively under control, he turned around, wincing at the pain in his back. He glanced down at the huge pile of dishes, and felt a wave of despair wash over him. It was going to take hours.

He looked over his shoulder and swept his gaze over the kitchen, listening. He could hear Deceit talking to someone upstairs, presumably to – or more like at – the other Side that lived in the house. When Deceit finally left him alone to do…whatever it was he did with the other Side, it was usually for a few hours.

He thought about what Deceit had been saying lately, about how much Virgil was inconveniencing him and how hard it was to look after him. Virgil looked down at the ground, feeling a little guilty. He didn’t mean to be so hard to look after, and he did try to help out, but the only thing he really knew how to do was dishes, and sometimes he didn’t get the chance to do them after dinner because Deceit would have…other ideas, and then they would pile up like they were now and he wasn’t trying to make Deceit feel unappreciated but sometimes he just felt so heavy and empty all at the same time. Sometimes it felt like there was no point in doing anything but at the same time he felt so restless, his mind coming up with a hundred, thousand reasons why he needed to be doing something.

Somehow, his gaze landed on the window above the sink, and his thoughts stopped for a moment. His hands began to shake. Before he could stop to think about what he was doing, he reached forward and unlatched the window, slowly sliding it upwards. He winced when it made a slight creaking sound, but nothing happened and he kept going, opening it all the way. Slowly, carefully, he hauled himself up onto the bench and crawled through the window, stepping down softly into the empty but thankfully solid mindscape. Holding his breath, he eased the window back down until it was closed again.

He waited. A moment passed, and nothing happened. He let out the breath he had been holding.

And then he ran.

He ran, hard and fast, away from the house. Away from Deceit. Away from the Hell he’d been put through over the past few months. He didn’t know where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away. He wanted to be somewhere safe.

He didn’t know how long he ran for. He ran until he couldn’t breathe properly, and then he ran some more. He ran until his legs felt wobbly and he fell over. He kept moving. When he couldn’t run any longer he walked. And walked. And walked. When he'd been walking for what felt like hours, he finally allowed himself to stop, and give himself a rest. There was no use running himself into the ground. He was away, Deceit wouldn’t follow him. He’d spent all morning yelling about how much of a burden Virgil was – he was probably rejoicing the fact that Virgil had left. Was likely glad that he no longer had to care for such a screw-up.

Finally, Virgil let himself breathe. When he looked around, he realised that he was back where this had all started – the subconscious space. The corner of Thomas’ mind where fragments of everything and nothing floated around in whispers and half-thoughts, with the potential to either become something great or fade into nothing. Usually it was the latter. Virgil sighed. Sometimes he wished that he too could fade into nothing. He felt like ever since the moment that Deceit had taken him in and offered to help him, his life had gotten worse. It had been all right in the beginning, if not a little uncomfortable, but the longer Virgil had stayed there with him, the worse it got. And when Deceit had started wanting more from him, he felt like he was ready to break.

Honestly? Virgil didn’t know how – or why – he’d pulled through for so long.

He sat down for a moment, allowing his body to relax as he closed his eyes and let himself get lost in Thomas’ thoughts for a while. It was nice, to come back to this, after so long. He had definitely missed the peace and quiet of being on his own. This was the safest he’d felt in a very long while.

He let time pass around him as he relaxed, but eventually, he began to feel restless, and he picked himself up off of the ground and started walking again. He didn’t have a specific goal in mind, he just wanted to get as far away from Deceit as possible. Eventually, the darkness of the subconscious subsided and things started to get a little bit brighter. When his stomach growled in hunger, he realised with a jolt that he was back in the mindscape. He almost turned around then and there, but instead he paused, coming to a realisation.

This wasn’t the same area of the mindscape he had been in with Deceit. This place was a lot brighter, and held an atmosphere of tranquillity, unlike the gut-churning feelings he got from Deceit’s area. He kept walking; certain that even if by some horrible twist of logic Deceit was trying to find him, he would never follow Virgil this far.

Not too long after, Virgil stumbled upon a house. It was the same as the house he had lived in with Deceit – an exact replica of the house Thomas lived in – except this version wasn’t so dark and dilapidated. This house was painted in the same colours the house Thomas lived in was painted, and it was completely intact. Eyes widening, Virgil realised that this was the part of the mindscape that Thomas’ main Sides lived in.

He slowly approached the house, the anxiousness inside him building with each step he took. What was he supposed to do now that he was here? Did he just…walk in through the front door and beg them to let him stay? No, that was ridiculous, they’d never want him around. They’d likely kick him straight back out.

But…would they?

Would they really? They were Thomas’ main Sides. They were logical, and creative, and kind. Surely they wouldn’t refuse him without first getting to know him? He allowed hope – traitorous, traitorous hope – to blossom in his breath as he contemplated all the possibilities, and for once, the pros seemed to outweigh the cons. He took another step forward, almost at the door. He could do it! He could go in there, and introduce himself, and ask if he could please live in the house with them. He could do it! He reached his hand out, preparing to knock on the door.

He didn’t.

A sudden bout of fear washed over him and he yanked his hand back to his chest so hard he hit himself. He stepped back as he heard voices from inside and dropped to the ground, pressing himself against the wall underneath the kitchen window so as not to be seen. He began to panic, quickly losing control of his breathing as his mind began to race with all the possibilities, all the ways it could go wrong, all the ways he could mess up and look like a pathetic idiot. What if they didn’t like him? What if they said he couldn’t stay? What if what if what if?

He curled up into a ball and hid his head under his arms. He couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate. He was slipping. He pressed himself harder into the wall behind him, trying to ground himself without making any noise. He didn’t want them to know he was here. He couldn’t even let them know he existed yet. He wasn’t ready to face them, wasn’t ready to face anyone! But he couldn’t calm down, couldn’t escape the shackles the panic attack had placed on him, couldn’t –

Slowly, he was pulled out of the crushing darkness of his own panic by the sound of somebody singing.

Someone was in the kitchen, singing softly to himself. Virgil brought his arms down off his head in order to hear them better. He thought at first that the singer might have been Patton, but, listening closer, he realised it was Roman, Thomas’ Creativity. Virgil couldn’t make out what exactly the fanciful Side was singing, but it was a soft, slow melody, and the longer Virgil listened, the more at ease he felt. Roman's voice was soothing, and Virgil closed his eyes, allowing himself to calm down. With Roman's voice still in earshot, it didn’t take very long.

By the time Roman left the kitchen, Virgil had managed to calm himself down completely.

He slouched against the wall, no longer feeling like he was about to be crushed under the weight of his own fears. He stretched, easing some of the tightness out of his body, and took a deep breath. He wished for a moment that Roman hadn’t left the kitchen – he wanted to keep listening to the creative Side’s beautiful voice. An idea sparked in his head, and he crept around the side of the house to where he knew the living room to be. As he did, the voices he could faintly hear from within became a little bit louder as he got closer in proximity to them.

Now he could hear Patton, as well. He still wasn’t sure exactly what the other Side was saying, but, just like Roman's singing, the sound of the other Side’s voice soothed him. He sat down beside the wall and allowed the ghost of a smile to creep up on his face. He sat there for a little while, just listening to the comforting voices of the other Sides going about their business. He made his decision. He was going to go in, and he was going to tell them who he was, and he was going to request that they allow him to stay with them. He was going to do it, but first…

First he just wanted to listen for a little while longer. This was the first time he had felt truly at peace for a very, very long time. Even before Deceit had taken him in, he’d never felt this happy, this calm. He'd been empty out there on his own. He'd been crushed with Deceit. But maybe here, with the others, he could feel whole. He wouldn’t be alone, at the very least, and he knew they were better than Deceit. Knew they wouldn’t hurt him the way the serpentine Side seemed to enjoy hurting him. He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander, finally letting his guard down.

It was a mistake.

Out of nowhere, a hand gripped him by the neck and yanked him forward, twisting him around and slamming him harshly into the ground. A shriek tried to rip its way out of his throat, but no sound came out. His eyes flew open and he was met with the furious gaze of Deceit, whose snake eye seemed to be glowing. Deceit lowered himself over Virgil until their faces were almost touching, and Virgil began to shake in fear.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” Deceit hissed. Virgil tried to respond, but he couldn’t form the words. The euphoria he’d felt only moments ago had evaporated, leaving sheer terror in its wake. Deceit had found him, all the way out here.

And Deceit was mad. Worse, he was livid.

A whimper escaped Virgil's lips.

“Well?” Deceit snarled. “What do you have to say for yourself?” The pressure on Virgil's throat disappeared, and Virgil realised that he was able to talk again. Even so, he could make anything but incoherent babble come out of his mouth. Abruptly she shut his mouth, remembering how much Deceit hated his pathetic stuttering, but it was too late. In a fit of rage, Deceit picked him up and slammed him into the wall so hard that the house shook from the impact. Virgil's head made a horrible cracking sound at the impact, and pain exploded in his skull. He moaned.

Deceit opened his mouth, but stopped. Virgil realised that the noises from within the house had suddenly ceased.

“What was that?” Roman's voice travelled. Logan gave a response Virgil couldn’t make out through the ringing in his head, but Roman was close enough that he could hear the creative Side when he said “I’ll go check.”

Deceit hissed, and began to sink out, taking Virgil with him. Virgil heard the door to the house open, and then they were gone.

They reappeared in the living room of Deceit’s house, and Virgil felt suddenly overwhelmed by a crushing sense of hopelessness. There was no chance for him now.

“Now that we have a bit more privacy,” Deceit growled. “Care to explain why you just up and left without any explanation?”

Virgil swallowed against the hand wrapped around his throat, pressing himself further into the living room wall in a futile attempt to get himself away. When it – unsurprisingly – didn’t work, he tried to form something coherent to say. There was no use continuing to be silent – it would just anger Deceit further.

“I- You were saying how h-hard it was to look after me, and I d-didn’t want to be a- to be a burden, so I thought –”

“Ah, see there’s the problem. You thought.” Deceit spat. “Next time, leave the thinking to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Virgil said, only just managing to hold himself back from snapping at the other Side. He knew Deceit could be unfair, but that was just ridiculous. How was he supposed to not think? But Deceit didn’t catch the near slip-up, and, finally, he let Virgil go, stepping back slightly while Virgil struggled to keep himself upright.

“Don’t do it again.” Deceit snapped brusquely, and Virgil knew that was as ‘accepted’ as his apology was going to get. “Do you have any idea how long I searched for you when I realised you were gone?” A new feeling was starting to well up inside Virgil. “I didn’t think you would be that selfish.” He recognised it as anger. He was angry. “After all you’ve done to inconvenience me, I still –”

“IF I’M SUCH AN INCONVENIENCE TO YOU, THEN WHY DON’T YOU JUST GET RID OF ME–”

SMACK!

Virgil stumbled backwards, clutching his cheek in shock. The anger disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, fear returning to claw at his chest as it sank in that Deceit had slapped him. He flinched violently as Deceit moved closer to him, backing him up against the wall once more and towering over him as Virgil shrank in on himself.

Deceit slammed his hands against the wall, one on each side of Virgil's head, and he yelped. Deceit leaned forward. “Don’t. You. Ever! Raise your voice at me again. Do you understand?” Virgil nodded fearfully, but it wasn’t enough for the other side. “I SAID DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” Deceit roared.

“Yes!” Virgil cried.

“Good. Now, do you want to know why I keep you around? Why I haven’t gotten rid of you already?” Shakily, Virgil nodded his confirmation. “The reason I haven’t gotten rid of you, is because I can’t.” Even through his fear, his confusion must have shown, because Deceit elaborated. “You wanted to go live with the other Sides? Well, too bad, because they didn’t want you.”

Virgil's heart stopped for a moment, and he forgot how to breathe. “W-what?”

“I said, they. Didn’t. Want. You.” Deceit enunciated each word harshly, and tears threatened to spill over his eyes as Virgil took the words in. “I already tried to get rid of you, but the other Sides wanted nothing to do with you. They didn’t want you anywhere near them.” The tears spilled over, and Virgil's heart broke.

He really did have nowhere else to go. Deceit was the only one that wanted him.

No, that was wrong. Not even Deceit wanted him – he had tried to get rid of him, but he was the only one willing to at the very least put up with him. This was the only place he was welcome.

“Was that not the answer you wanted, hmm?” Deceit asked cruelly. “Go on; tell me, Virgil, what exactly is going on in that idiotic head of yours?”

Virgil flinched, horror coursing through him as the words sunk in.

Deceit knew his name.

How did Deceit know his name?

Deceit gave a lopsided grin. “Virgil.” He repeated with a laugh. “What a stupid name. No wonder you tried to hide it from me.”

Virgil sobbed. His name was the one thing he had left, the one thing that was his, and only his, and now he didn’t even have that. He had nothing. He hung his head to try to hide the tears that were now streaking down his cheeks, but Deceit grabbed his chin and held it between his thumb and his forefinger, tilting Virgil's face upwards. With his other hand, he thumbed a tear away from Virgil's cheek. The serpentine Side let Virgil cry silently for a few minutes before speaking again.

“Are you going to raise your voice at me like that again, Virgil?” He asked, his voice soft but his tone expectant.

“No.” Virgil whispered, defeated.

“Are you going to try and leave again?”

“No.”

“Good boy. Nobody wants you but me, Virgil. Don’t forget that.”

“I won't.”

“I didn’t think so. Now, after I went through all that trouble to bring you home, I think it’s time you make it up to me, don’t you?”

Virgil said nothing. It wasn’t like his opinion mattered anyway.

Deceit took his silence as a yes.

The older Side manoeuvred Virgil to the middle of the living room and pushed him down to the floor onto his back. Virgil braced himself to be used, but Deceit had other ideas.

“I want you to participate this time, Virgil.”

So he did. He did everything Deceit wanted, let himself be humiliated and debased at Deceit’s will, even though he had no idea what he was doing. He had never been an active participant in the sex the two of them had, but Deceit seemed pleased enough.

By the time Deceit decided they were done, Virgil had never felt dirtier.

Chapter Text

Nearly a year had passed since Virgil had tried to get himself away from Deceit, and things did not improve. Deceit continued to be violent and forceful with him and Virgil never fought back, knowing the consequences for doing so would be much more severe than anything he already had to endure. He let Deceit use him like a plaything, because he didn’t know what else to do. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go; the other Sides didn’t want him around, and even if they did, he had promised Deceit that he wouldn’t try to leave again. He didn’t want to be a liar.

But sometimes it was hard to stop himself from just walking out the front door and running like Hell. Some days Deceit beat him so badly that he would do anything to get away, to not be hurt again. Some days he wished he had never tried to leave at all – Deceit had never hit him before then, and maybe he wouldn’t be hitting him now if he’d never had to do it in the first place.

Sometimes Deceit hit him so hard he lost consciousness. Sometimes Virgil wished Deceit would hit him so hard he never woke up.

Virgil found that often the days blurred together, and he would lose track of time. He spaced out a lot, lately. Deceit didn’t like it when he did that – it made him angry. Virgil didn’t like it when Deceit was angry. Deceit was cruel when he was angry.

But then, if that was the case, maybe he was just always angry, because he always seemed to be cruel.

The older Side took great pleasure in making Virgil uncomfortable or anxious. He would get just a little bit too close, or ask of Virgil just a little bit too much, and when Virgil would squirm in discomfort, he would laugh.

He also laughed at Virgil's name a lot, and every time he did, Virgil hated his name just a little more. He used to love his name, because it was unique and private and his, but now it was just one more thing Deceit could hold over him and use against him, and he hated it. He hated how vulnerable he would feel when Deceit used his name, hated how stupid he felt whenever Deceit called for him.

Like he was now.

Virgil heard the older Side call for him from downstairs and he scrambled out of his bed as quickly as he was able to, threw on his jacket and scurried out of his room, taking the stairs two at a time. He found Deceit in the living room, sitting in the corner of the couch that sat in front of the TV.

“You called?” He was getting better at controlling his stutter, mostly because Deceit had taken to slapping him every time he fumbled his words too badly.

“Come sit with me, Virgil.” Deceit opened an arm in invitation.

“Yes, sir.” While Deceit had never specifically told Virgil to refer to him as ‘sir’, Virgil had found that other Side liked when he was referred to as such. He had said it completely on accident once and noticed that Deceit liked it, so Virgil kept doing it in the hopes that Deceit would be more favourable towards him.

Virgil sat down and Deceit snaked his arm around the anxious Side’s waist, pulling him close and pressing Virgil tightly into his side. Virgil tried not to let his breathing become too irregular as the older Side crushed him in his embrace. The older Side pushed up the hem of Virgil’s shirt with one hand and slowly stroked his belly. For a while afterwards, Deceit continued to watch the television in silence, and Virgil tried to as well, but he couldn’t focus on what was happening with Deceit’s fingers drawing lazy circles onto the exposed skin of his abdomen. It might have felt nice if it didn’t make his skin crawl.

This continued for some time before Deceit’s fingers trailed lower, sliding underneath the hem of his jeans. Virgil's breath stuttered only for a moment, but Deceit noticed anyway, and a sly smirk spread his lips. Virgil looked away. Deceit teased him for a little longer, taking delight in Virgil's discomfort, but didn’t go any further, and for that, Virgil was grateful.

After an indeterminable amount of time passed, Virgil heard a crash come from upstairs, and he flinched violently as Deceit cursed. The serpentine side pushed Virgil off of him and stood, scowling as he stalked up the staircase. Virgil felt bad for the other Side. He was likely in for a beating – by the sound of that crash, he’d make quite the mess. Virgil hoped Deceit would show some mercy for once.

He didn’t. Virgil winced as the shouting started, and ducked his head when he heard the sound of a body hitting the floor. For the first few minutes, he didn’t move from the couch, not wanting to risk Deceit’s anger if the other Side came back down and found Virgil gone when he hadn’t given him permission to move. But after a while, Virgil realised Deceit wasn’t going to be coming down any time soon. He felt sorry for the other Side, but…he was glad it wasn’t him. It’d been a while since Virgil had made Deceit angry enough to hurt him too badly, and he wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. He stayed still.

At least, he did until his stomach growled. He glanced at the stairwell, and then to the kitchen. He hesitated, but his stomach made its desires known once more and he caved, standing up and quickly making his way over to the cabinets to find something quick to cook for himself.

He scanned the shelves, trying to find something that was easy enough for him to make. He'd never actually cooked before, but he figured he’d give it a chance. How hard could it be? He just needed something with easy-to-follow instructions and he was set. Besides, cooking for himself might even get Virgil into Deceit’s good graces. If he made himself food, Deceit wouldn’t have to make it for him.

Virgil smiled. Maybe he could do something right for once.

After a minute of debate, he ended up just pulling out a packet of microwave porridge and followed the instructions on how to make it, putting the dry stuff into a microwavable bowl while the kettle boiled. When it was done, he added just the right amount of water, and put the bowl in the microwave, setting the timer. He disposed of his rubbish, grabbed a spoon from the drawer and sat down at the kitchen table, listening to the steady hum of the microwave while he waited, doing his best to ignore the sounds coming from upstairs.

At some point, he closed his eyes and became lost in thought, letting himself forget about his surroundings for just a little while. He was broken out of his pleasant daydreaming by the sound of the microwave beeping incessantly, signalling that his food was ready.

He stood from the chair he'd been sitting at and retrieved the bowl from the microwave, hissing at how hot it was against the bare skin of his hands. He became so focused on getting the piping hot bowl of porridge to the table in once piece that he didn’t notice Deceit sneaking into the kitchen. Virgil started when he finally realised Deceit was right there, and tried to play it off with a laugh. Deceit didn’t laugh. In fact, he looked mad. Oh.

Virgil launched himself into an explanation, hoping to appease the angry Side. “I was hungry, so I thought that if I made myself some food, you wouldn’t have to make any for me, ‘cause I know how much you do for me, so I thought I'd try and help you out a bit and–”  Virgil stuttered to a stop when Deceit began silently moving towards him, his yellow eye practically glinting.  

“I don’t recall ever giving you permission to use the kitchen, Virgil.” Deceit hissed.

Virgil faltered, but pressed on. He could still save this. “I know sir, and I'm sorry, but I thought I would try and ease the load on you a bit by taking care of myself –”

“If you knew you weren’t allowed, why would you do it?”

“I was trying to help –”

“Are you just deliberately undermining me? Is that what this is?”

“No, I just –”

“I expected better from you, Virgil –”

“I WAS JUST TRYING TO HELP!”

A beat of silence followed his outburst, and Virgil had a moment to process what he'd just done. Well, he thought bitterly as Deceit’s eyes flashed with fury and he stalked towards him, I don’t think I can save this.

Deceit towered over him as he grabbed two fistfuls of Virgil’s jacket and shoved him into the kitchen counter. Pain exploded in Virgil's back and hips and he yelled, but Deceit payed no mind. He leaned into Virgil with his weight, and the younger Side’s chest protested even as his heart pounded.

“Oh, you think you’re such a big man, do you?” Deceit sneered. “Think you’re a big boy, raising your voice at me like that?” He jerked his grip, and Virgil's hip whacked the counter again. “Well guess what? You don’t have the right to raise your voice at me! You aren’t allowed! So be a good boy and apologise, and maybe I’ll consider lightening your punishment.”

Something in Virgil snapped. Something that had been building in him for a very long time. Every time he was berated for nothing, yelled at for something stupid, punished for some inconsequential slip up – every one of these moments had piled up inside of him, and finally, like a rubber band that had been pulled too far, he snapped.

“Screw you.”

Deceit blinked, as though he couldn’t believe what had just come out of Virgil's mouth. Then he growled and twisted, Virgil still in his grip, and slammed the younger Side hard into the wall. Virgil gasped as the air was forced from his lungs, and grappled with the hand that had clamped around his throat, preventing him from sucking in precious oxygen. Deceit squeezed tighter, snarling.

“Would you like to repeat yourself, Virgil?” He challenged, his grip on Virgil's neck loosening ever so slightly – just enough that the smaller Side would be able to answer. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

Virgil mustered every ounce of defiance he possessed, going against the very nature that had been drilled into him by Deceit for over a year, and rasped, “Screw. You.”

Deceit roared and threw him to the ground. Virgil's head cracked painfully on the floor and his vision went white, but Deceit didn’t give him any time to dwell on it. The serpentine Side launched a powerful kick into Virgil's gut and Virgil curled into a ball, covering his head with his arms as more kicks rained down upon him. He roared in pain when Deceit’s boot slammed into his shoulder and sent him rolling away, his entire body feeling as if it had been lit aflame.

He felt hands grip his jacket and pull him to his feet, only to be knocked to the ground again when Deceit’s fist connected with his face. Stars dancing upon a white background replaced his vision and his head swam trying to make sense of where his attacker was. He pulled himself up onto his side, and for a moment, nothing happened. The stars went away just in time for him to see a brown blur ark into him before agony exploded over the left side of his ribcage. He cried out as Deceit tossed the chair he had smashed into Virgil's ribs, and tears of pain welled in his eyes. Deceit gripped Virgil's shoulders and picked him up, throwing him into the table, the bowl of porridge tipping as the table rattled against the force of Virgil's body slamming into it. Snarling, Deceit picked up the mostly empty bowl and pummelled it into Virgil's face.

The anxious Side screamed as glass shredded through the skin on his right cheek. He stumbled backwards and hit the ground, blood streaming down the side of his face and getting into his eye. He hastily wiped it away just in time to see Deceit aiming another kick. He rolled away, his ribs aching in protest, and tried to shuffle himself out of the kitchen, but Deceit reached down and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. Virgil twisted and pulled his arm out of the sleeve, crawling forward. Deceit stumbled back slightly as the jacket slipped off the small Side that was crawling away. Deceit snarled, and Virgil heard the sound of metal scraping metal, and he looked back to see Deceit holding a chef’s knife in his hand. A terrified noise escaped him and he tried to jump to his feet, but Deceit was quicker than him, and he grabbed the back of Virgil's shoulder and twisted the smaller Side to face him. Virgil had no warning before he felt an agonising pain in his chest and he screamed and stumbled backwards.

He looked down at his chest to see his shit ripped, and underneath the rip, was a line of blood starting from below his right pectoral and arcing diagonally up his chest, ending at his left shoulder. Pure terror now coursing through him, he tried once again to shuffle backwards out of the kitchen door.

Deceit snarled and tossed the knife, grabbing the handle of a frying pan from the drying rack. Virgil had just managed to get his feet out of the doorframe and into the living room when the older Side caught up.

Virgil scrambled to get away, but his back hit the couch and he had nowhere left to go. He brought his arms up to protect his head as the frying pan came down, and he screamed as the pan cracked against his left arm. Pain erupted like a volcano, and he realised with a terrified jolt that his radius – or was it the ulna? – had fractured under the blow. He cowered, squeezing his eyes shut and preparing himself for the next hit, but it didn’t come.

He lowered his arms, a pained noise coming from his throat as he cradled the broken arm against his side, and looked up fearfully at Deceit. The larger Side stared down at him, the fury in his eyes slowly giving way to something else, something infinitely more terrifying.

“Ready to apologise, Anxiety?” One corner of Deceit’s mouth quirked up into a leer, and Virgil wanted to hide. He wanted to find the smallest, most claustrophobic space in existence and crawl into it, but instead, biting the inside of his cheek against the pain, he stood, pushing his back into the couch and using it to steady himself as he forced himself to his feet. He made himself as big as he could in his current condition and said,

“Never.” Deceit’s mouth pulled back down into a lour at Virgil's response, but the anxious trait wasn’t finished. “I’m done submitting to you. I’m done just letting you use me! I’m not your plaything anymore! I’m leaving! And I'm not coming back!”

Deceit was silent for a moment, and then he said lowly, “Oh, are you just?”

Before Virgil could react, Deceit backhanded him in the face, and Virgil dropped to the ground, crying out in pain at the impact against the cuts the glass had made. Without warning, Deceit’s hands were pinning his wrists to the floor above his head, and he was straddling Virgil's thighs. Virgil writhed and bucked underneath him, doing his best to dislodge the other Side, but his efforts were fruitless. Deceit moved his grip so that one hand held both wrists, and reached down with the other to unbuckle Virgil's belt.

“NO!” Virgil poured renewed vigour into his efforts to get away from Deceit, and as the other Side was beginning to pull down his pants, he managed to yank one of his wrists free, and he shot forward, his fist connecting with Deceit’s left eye. Deceit hissed in pain, but before Virgil could do more, the serpentine Side let go of his other wrist and twisted his palm.

Deceit’s strange and sinister magic gripped his arms tightly, forcing them back above his head without Deceit having to hold on. He screamed in pain as the hold on him tightened around his fractured arm, but then Deceit managed to pull his jeans down to his knees and he screamed for a different reason. The older Side yanked Virgil's boxers down roughly and then went to work on his own pants, and Virgil, still screaming, tried to free his legs, tried to wriggle one of them out so he could kick Deceit away, but the other Side had him in a vice grip, and Virgil couldn’t free himself.

After a few short moments, Deceit shoved his own pants down, along with his boxers, and grabbed Virgil's hips harshly, trying to hold the younger Side still.

“NO!”

Virgil screamed in agony as Deceit slammed into him without any prep or lube. His back arched against the pain as he gasped for breath, and Deceit began moving – harsh, brutal thrusts that caused pain so intense Virgil forgot about the rest of his injuries. He cried out in pain, again and again, as Deceit took him mercilessly.

Virgil tried to yank his arms away from the magic that bound him, but it did not relent, and he could not move to defend himself against the assault on his body. He attempted to twist his hips, but Deceit had them in an iron grip.

Exhausted and in pain, he ceased his struggles for a moment, trying to catch his breath, but when Deceit grinned down at him, viewing it as an act of submission, he kept wriggling, twisting, doing anything he could think of in an effort to free himself. Even now, as Deceit forced himself upon him, even when he wanted to stop and let it be over with, he refused to submit to Deceit ever again. He would fight the serpentine Side tooth and nail for the rest of his life if he had to. He was never giving in again.

Deceit wanted to break him. Wanted to shatter his glass soul into dust – but Virgil was done letting him.

The older Side rammed into him again, and though the pain was unbearable, Virgil promised himself he wouldn’t beg, no matter how much his instinct was telling him to. Instead, he focused on the pain in his chest. It was agonising, but it didn’t seem like it was going to bleed out on him. The wound wasn’t deep enough to bleed too heavily – the blood seeping from it was already starting to slow – but it would definitely scar.

His distraction didn’t last long as Deceit lifted Virgil’s hips and buried himself in him, and Virgil couldn’t help but shout at the pain. Deceit repeated the motion several more times, and Virgil's voice was becoming hoarse from the screaming. Not too long after, Deceit reached his climax.

The older Side dropped onto Virgil, panting, and Virgil gasped as Deceit’s weight knocked the air out of him. He waited a few moments, expecting Deceit to roll off him, but the older Side didn’t move as the minutes passed. Virgil tried to shuffle out from underneath him, but he was too heavy, and Virgil was exhausted, sported multiple extremely painful injuries, as well as intense pain in his lower region. He blacked out.

When he woke, Deceit was gone, and Virgil was still in the same position on the floor. He gave himself a minute to fully come to consciousness and twitched his wrist, finding it no longer bound by Deceit’s cruel magic. With extreme effort, he managed to sit up, careful not to put any weight on his left arm.

A quick assessment of himself made him realised that the wound on his chest had stopped bleeding, and his ruined shirt was now crusted with dried blood, along with the skin surrounding the wound. He also felt stinging on his cheek, and remembered the cuts the bowl had made when Deceit smashed it into his face. He would be very lucky if they weren’t infected by now.

He shifted, and two things hit him at once. The pain in his backside from the beating it had taken, and the pain in his ribs from where Deceit had smashed a chair into him. He winced, gently pulling himself to his feet. He was then faced with two choices. Either bend over to pull his pants back up – extremely painful for multiple reasons, or discard the pants completely. He went with the latter.

Kicking off his jeans and boxers and leaving them in a heap on the floor, he slowly limped his way to the bathroom. He clicked the flimsy lock shut and, painfully, removed his ruined shirt, tossing it on the floor and turning on the showerhead. When the temperature was right, he stepped in, hissing as the warm water hit the wound on his chest. Grimacing, he grabbed a washcloth and dabbed at the cut, slowly cleaning away all the dried blood that had crusted over the wound. It didn’t appear to be infected, but he knew he needed to clean it as best he could nonetheless. When he was satisfied, he cleaned the cuts on his face, and then the rest of himself, whimpering slightly when he needed to clean the lower regions of himself.

When he was done he got out of the shower, dried himself off, and trudged naked to his room, not bothering to pick up the shirt. He reached into his closet and grabbed out a clean set of clothes – shirt, hoodie, underwear, jeans and socks – and dressed himself. He wished he had some bandages for the cut on his chest as he slid the shirt over it, but unfortunately, he had no idea where Deceit kept the first aid kit, if he even had one. He would have to do without.

He shrugged the hoodie on and pulled the hood over his head, shutting the closet and surveying himself in the mirror on the door. With the hood casting a deep shadow over his face, you could barely see the cuts on his cheek. Good. At least that way he might be able to pretend they weren’t there.

Turning away from the mirror, he cast a glance around his room. There was nothing in it that he wanted to keep. Nothing he would miss.

He closed his eyes, and cast his mind back to the day he had been outside the main three’s house. He remembered how Deceit had sunk the both of them out of there and returned them here, and, just like that, Virgil knew how he was going to escape.

He focused on the memory – on the feeling – of sinking out. Made himself remember how it felt, the sensation of removing his physical presence from one area and appearing somewhere else. When he felt he had something solid to go with, he concentrated on that, and sunk out to somewhere he knew Deceit would never follow.

His eyes snapped open when he heard a startled shriek to his left, and he realised it had worked. He was no longer in Deceit’s house.

A quick look around told him he was in the living room that belonged to the main three, and that the shriek had come from Patton, Thomas’ morality. He immediately felt guilty for frightening the poor Side, and was trying to think of something to say when footsteps came bounding down the stairs. He turned to see Roman and Logan's unsure faces staring at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Roman gave him a quick look up and down and drew his sword.

Virgil flinched but managed not to yelp in fear at the fact that Thomas’ creativity was pointing an actual real sword at him. The creative Side circled him, Logan sticking behind him for protection, until he was between Virgil and Patton.

“Who are you, Emo Fester? And what are you doing here?” Roman demanded – his voice loud and mean and everything Virgil hadn’t expected from one of Thomas’ mains. The callousness threw him off, and Virgil responded in kind before he could really think about what he was doing.

“The name’s Anxiety, Tall, Loud and Haughty, and I'm here because I want to be.”

Not how he had originally hoped to introduce himself, but Roman had been rude first.

“Anxiety?” Roman seemed to give it a second of thought, before his eyes narrowed even further and he thrust his sword a bit closer to Virgil. “AHA! You’re a Dark Side, aren’t you?”

“A what–”

“Stay back, villain!” Roman cried, taking a step towards Virgil, who backed up a little. He did not want that sword anywhere near him. Roman kept inching forward and Virgil kept inching back, until his back hit the banister of the staircase.

“Would you just–” He tried, but Roman interrupted him again.

“Shut your mouth, foul villain! You have nothing to say to me! To any of us!”

Virgil's heart dropped, and his throat tightened. He had known that the other Sides didn’t want him here, but…he hadn’t realised they outright hated him. A cold feeling crept into him, wrapping itself around his broken heart, and he didn’t try to push it away. He let it encase his heart, like icy armour.

“Fine.” He said at last, his voice devoid of anything but bitterness. If they didn’t want to even try to get to know him, that that was just fine. He couldn’t make them want him, but they couldn’t make him leave, either. Nothing could make him leave these walls and risk falling back into Deceit’s clutches. He’d rather live somewhere where he was hated than be abused again.

“Fine.” He repeated, and, like lightening, he turned around and dashed up the stairs, completely ignoring the pain in his ribs as he leaped off the stairs onto the top floor and opened the first door that didn’t have a name on it. He could hear Roman running after him, so he slammed the door shut and locked it. Roman pounded on the door from the other side, yelling at him and demanding he come out, but Virgil had no intention of leaving.

After a little while he gave up, and Virgil heard Roman's footsteps drift away. A minute later, a knock on the door.

“Anxiety?” Came Patton's timid voice. “Are you–”

“Fuck off, Morality!” He shouted, not feeling bad as Patton said nothing else and left. The coldness in his chest tightened around his heart again, and a steely resolve formed in his mind as something he’d realised a long time ago came back to him.

In this world, it was either hurt, or be hurt.

And Virgil was done being hurt. 

Chapter Text

After a long while, Virgil finally turned away from the door and took a look at the room he’d entered. He could have sworn it was completely empty when he’d opened the door, but a queen-sized bed now sat in the corner, a desk and chair opposite it. Beside each doorframe now sat two bookcases containing no books, and on the left wall was a closet. He was mildly surprised, but he took this as a good sign. The mindscape wanted him to stay, even if the Sides residing there did not.

Exhausted, he limped over to the bed, setting himself down on it as gently as he could. His entire body still felt like it was on fire from what Deceit had put him through what was likely only a few hours earlier. He lay himself down atop the blankets, and after a while, his heartrate slowed and his breathing evened. Now that he was a bit more relaxed, he noticed how much warmer this room was, compared to his room in Deceit’s area of the mindscape. That place had always felt like it was one degree away from chilling him to the bone. Here, however, the temperature was something much more comfortable.

He lay there for hours, exhaustion slowly catching up to him. He slept fitfully, and when he woke again, he discovered that a bedside table housing an alarm clock had manifested while he'd been sleeping.

1.47am, the clock read.

Blearily, he slid off the bed, his stomach grumbling. He realised with a pang that he hadn’t eaten anything in two days. Despite the late – or rather, early – hour, he could still see without the light on, and he looked to the door, weighing the pros and cons of sneaking into the kitchen to steal some food. He knew stealing was wrong, but he was starving, and he seriously doubted that the other Sides would willingly let him eat their food.

His stomach grumbled again, and his hunger won out. His morality chastising him for even considering stealing someone else’s food, he quietly pulled open his door and crept into the hallway. Moving as quietly as he possibly could, he shuffled to the staircase, only making a few eerie creaks as he made his way down.

The ground floor of the house was somehow darker than his room, so he stood still for a few seconds to let his eyes adjust before creeping forward again into the kitchen. He opened the pantry and quickly scanned the contents for anything he could take that wouldn’t be obvious, and took whatever he found that met his criteria. Stashing what he could in his pockets and holding the rest in his arms, he made his way back upstairs – still creaking a few of the floorboards and stairs, though thankfully not as many as before – and ducking back into his room.

Virgil stashed the food in the drawers of his desk, all except for one granola bar, which he opened and munched on tiredly. He sat down on the chair and leaned against his desk, resting his chin in his palm. He felt exhausted, hungry and a little bit frightened by his new surroundings. This was not what he had imagined living with the main Sides would be like.

When he had daydreamed of leaving Deceit and living here, he had imagined they would be friendly, and welcoming. He’d imagined introducing himself to each Side and perhaps developing a friendship with each of them.

He had been too naïve.

He’d known, of course, that the other Sides didn’t want him here, but he hadn’t realised they were going to be so…so hostile, towards him. He had hoped that they would…Hell, he didn’t know, at least hear him out before they made their judgement, but they didn’t even give him a chance! Didn’t let him say his piece before telling him to get lost.

A tear rolled down his cheek, and swiped at it furiously.

Fine then. He decided. If they’re not gonna give me a chance, I won't bother giving them one. The wall he had built around his heart solidified, along with his resolve.

He never let it waiver. For years, he avoided the other Sides as much as humanly possible. They didn’t try to talk to him, and he didn’t try to talk to them. The only times they ever even acknowledged his existence at all was when they disagreed with him about what was best for Thomas – which was, to say, constantly. Nothing he ever did was good enough for them, and quickly enough he stopped being surprised by it.

He found himself putting on a mask a lot – using the dark, scary persona he’d put on his first night in this place as a way to protect himself from hurtful comments and nasty demeanour. If they were going to hate him anyway, he may as well give them a reason to, and it hurt a little bit less than them hating him for simply being alive.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

He got pretty good at sneaking downstairs in the middle of the night for food. It didn’t take him long to learn which stairs creaked and which areas of the floor made the least noise. He had to re-learn when Thomas moved out of his parent’s house and the mindscape changed to look like his new apartment, but, once again, he figured it out quickly.

After the move, things quietened down a bit in Thomas’ life, and Virgil found he wasn’t fighting with the other Sides as much.

Until Thomas decided to try out Vine, that was. Boy, Virgil had had something to say about that. He'd fought with Roman for hours, trying to get the stubborn Side to see how bad of an idea this was, all of the ways it could go wrong, the situations it would put Thomas in. Of course, Roman didn’t listen. And sure, it had all turned out fine in the end, but still, it might not have!

Roman and he had clashed even worse when Thomas decided to start making the Sanders Sides videos. Roman had given Thomas the idea, of course, and had been very excited about it. Patton had thought it was a wonderful idea, and was keen to take part. Even Logan, the Side who was supposed to be the logical one, was enthusiastic about the idea. Virgil spent almost an entire day arguing all of the cons to this idea, and in the end, had given up, but refused to participate.

‘“Good, I didn’t want you in the video anyway.”’ Roman had responded, lip curled in disgust at the very idea of Anxiety taking part. Virgil had muttered something nonsensical under his breath and retreated to his room, pretending to all the world and to himself that the words didn’t stab him like a knife.

Despite himself, he ended up popping into the third video. It wasn’t the first time he had revealed himself to Thomas, but it was the first time he’d ever been in one of the man’s videos, and even though he’d chosen to be in it – it had been one of the only split-second decisions he’d ever made – he still felt nervous as all Hell when Thomas had posted the video.

Something he certainly hadn’t expected, though, was the positive reaction from the fanders. He’d been holding his breath, waiting for the comments that would say that his character sucked and that Thomas shouldn’t bother bringing him back, but, much to his shock, it had been the complete opposite. The fanders had all loved him and – Virgil had nearly fainted – wanted to see more of him! He had honest-to-God cried as he scrolled through the comments on his laptop, all of the positivity towards him shocking him to his core. It remained one of his best memories.

The first time he had ever been loved.

After that, he was much more eager to join in on the Sanders Sides videos, even if the other Sides still made themselves very vocal in their displeasure at him appearing. It was worth it just to read the comments from the fanders when Thomas posted the video. He felt bad that he couldn’t respond to their comments, sometimes, but that didn’t stop him from reading each and every one of them. They were his comfort – they were what kept him going, and he loved every single fander that left one.

As time passed and he participated in more videos, he found the other Sides – well, two of them, at least – slowly began to, at the very least, tolerate his presence. Patton stopped being so visibly awkward when he showed up, and Logan even said he didn’t mind Virgil's company, even after Virgil was nothing but uncooperative during their debate.

The momentary bliss had been just that – momentary. Despite saying he didn’t mind his company, Logan's behaviour towards him didn’t really change, and the logical Side remained indifferent towards him, as did Patton. Roman, however, continued to make his distaste for Anxiety loud and clear. After a long time to reflect on the Creative Side’s words, Virgil's self doubt reared its head, and he came to the conclusion that everything Roman said about him was right. Thomas was better off without him.

He ducked out.

Needless to say, he had been beyond shocked when Thomas and the other Sides had risked themselves coming after him. He had quickly decided, however, that they were just trying to placate him with kind words so that he would come back and stop hurting Thomas. By the end of it all, though, he genuinely believed that they cared for him. Believed them enough that he considered telling them his name.

He’d instantly balked at the idea (they’ll hate it it’s stupid they’ll laugh at you they’ll laugh they’ll laugh they’ll laugh) but the seed was planted in his mind, and suddenly it was all he could think about. And then Thomas started to end the video and the urge wouldn’t leave him alone and –

– And he told them. He ripped it off like a Band-Aid, and Roman snorted and his shoulders hunched (this was so stupid you moron why would you tell them you knew they’d hate it and now he’s laughing he thinks it’s stupid you’re so stupid abort abort abort). Then Thomas said he thought it was a wonderful name, and Virgil perked up a bit. Logan and Patton then said that they liked that the name was different, and Roman wasn’t laughing anymore. Slowly, Virgil relaxed.

After that, Virgil made a conscious effort to be less distressing to Thomas. It was hard, easing himself out of the persona he’d created for himself and slowly grown into over the years, and sometimes he messed up and was a little too harsh, but he was getting better. He stopped sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night for food and started joining the others for Patton's FamILY Dinners. He didn’t hide in his room as much, either, and started spending more time with the other Sides, steadily getting to know each one of them. Even Roman. He grew to be very close with the three of them, and though he’d never said it, he loved them all dearly.

Of course, good things can never last, can they?

Virgil had known something was up with Patton the second he popped into the video, but he hadn’t been able to pinpoint what. It wasn’t until they were in Roman’s theatre in the Imagination that he realised.

It wasn’t Patton.

Memories flooded into his mind and his anxiety skyrocketed as he scrambled to figure out what to do. Deceit was there, with him, with them, and every bone in Virgil's body screamed Danger! When Roman said ‘curtains’ he didn’t even care what context it was in, because it gave him an excuse to end the scenario and get into a position where he could expose Deceit for what he was.

It had not been easy.

He’d almost caved when Deceit tried to guilt trip him into saying they were friends. God, it had been hard to resist. Even now, after all these years, Deceit still had such a huge influence on him.

Panic had flooded through him when Deceit had flicked his wrist – a gesture Virgil was far too familiar with – and silenced Logan. For a moment, he had thought Deceit was going to control him. Selfishly, he had been relieved when he hadn’t. The relief didn’t last long, though. Anger quickly replaced it when it sank in that Deceit was silencing his friend! He didn’t let it show, though, and tried to keep himself as calm as possible as he explained to Thomas that any information he wanted to know, he could, he just had to be open to hearing it.  

Deceit revealed himself, and Virgil's hands trembled at the sight of the Side that had abused him for so long. A horrible thought occurred to him. If Deceit could hurt him, he could hurt the others, too.

Terror gripped him once again, and at the first opportunity that presented itself, Virgil slipped away.

Chapter Text

Virgil's head hung low, the anxious Side too ashamed to face Patton. The aforementioned Side had been silent the entire time Virgil had recounted his story, which unsettled Virgil. Silence was very uncharacteristic for the usually loud and rambunctious Side, and the strange behaviour set Virgil on edge.

After an immeasurable amount of time had passed and his tragic tale had come to a close, he waited for Patton to say something. When the other Side did not, Virgil hunched into himself even further.

He waited. Patton continued to remain silent.

Virgil wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He couldn’t figure what to say! What was someone even supposed to say after the story he had just told? What was he supposed to do now? He could get up and leave, he supposed, but this was his room. That would just be weird.

Eventually, the silence became too much for him. He needed the other Side to say something. Anything.

“Patton?” He hated how meek and pathetic his voice sounded.

He heard a sniffle and his head up to finally look at his companion. He was startled to realise Patton was crying; silent tears streaking down his face.

“Shit, Pat, are you okay?” He asked, concerned. Patton sniffled again, and then gave a breathy laugh.

“After everything you’ve been through, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” The moral Side reached out a hand, and then stopped himself. He drew in a deep breath, and asked “Virgil, is it okay if I touch you?” The anxious Side nodded, a sob escaping him. Quickly, Patton pulled him into a secure hug, and Virgil sobbed again, resting his head against Patton's chest.

“Oh sweetie, you’re shaking.” Patton murmured, running a gentle hand through Virgil's hair. Virgil leaned into the touch. It was so gentle, and even though his instincts were telling him to run, because Patton was touching him and touch always ended with him being hurt, he couldn’t bring himself to leave the moral Side’s embrace.

Despite himself, he couldn't help but compare the feeling of Patton's arms around him to that of Deceit’s. When Deceit held him, it was always tight, controlling, suffocating, but here, in Patton's arms, he felt secure, he felt safe, and for the first time in his life, the touch of another didn’t make his skin crawl. Another sob ripped itself from his throat and Patton tightened his hold ever so slightly, just enough so that Virgil would know that it was Patton telling him that he was there for him.

Virgil finally broke down, all the pain and confusion and hurt that he had kept bottled up inside himself for years finally spilling out all at once. He cried, hard, and clutched Patton's shirt as he wept into his shoulder. Patton, ever patient, held him as he wept, murmuring quiet reassurances to him the entire time, but making no attempt to make Virgil stop crying. When Virgil ran out of tears and his body stopped shaking, Patton still did not let go.

“Thank you.” Virgil rasped into Patton's shoulder, when he could finally force himself to speak.

“No need to thank me.” Patton said softly. “I think you needed a good cry.” Virgil hummed his agreement, releasing his death-grip on Patton's shirt and hesitantly wrapping his arms around the other, wrapping him in a proper hug. For an admittedly dumb moment, Virgil feared Patton might let go – that Virgil had gone too far and assumed too much, but the moral Side simply squeezed Virgil gently and rested his head on Virgil's shoulder. The younger Side sighed contentedly.

Not long after, the exhaustion from the day’s emotional turmoil caught up with him, and he sagged against Patton, too tired to hold himself up. A moment passed, and Patton lay himself down on Virgil's bed, pulling the tired Side down with him. Virgil stiffened at the action on instinct, and Patton noticed immediately, sitting up and removing himself from the bed, hands held out in front of him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Virgil! I didn’t even think –”

“Please don’t leave!” Virgil gasped, his hand snapping out and clutching Patton's wrist desperately. “Please, I don’t…” I don’t want to be alone. He couldn’t say it, was too weak to admit that he was too weak to be left alone, but Patton seemed to understand. With a soft smile, he sat back down onto the bed, sliding behind Virgil and curling his arms around the smaller Side, pulling him in close. Virgil took a deep, shuddering breath, and relaxed into Patton's embrace. Exhaustion swiftly engulfed him once more, and he let it drag him into unconsciousness, trusting Patton to keep him safe while he slept.

When he woke, he came to slowly, taking a moment to adjust himself to his surroundings. He felt a warmth wrapped around him, and remembered that he had fallen asleep in Patton's arms. He listened for a moment, and deduced that Patton had also fallen asleep. He smiled a little, and snuggled in closer to Patton, who nuzzled his nose into Virgil's neck without waking. Virgil went still, but when Patton remained asleep and nothing else happened, he forced himself to relax. Logically, he knew Patton would never hurt him, but he had spent years at the whim of Deceit’s predatory desires, and the scars were more than just physical. Deceit had instilled within him a fear of intimacy that he knew would not disappear overnight.

The memory of Deceit made Virgil's skin crawl, and he couldn’t bring himself to lay there any longer, as much as it pained him to lose Patton's warmth. Trying not to disturb Patton, he eased himself out of the other’s arms and off the bed as quietly as he could. He stood in the middle of his room for a few minutes, unsure of what to do now. His stomach chose that moment to grumble, and the answer to his conundrum became clear.

Virgil managed to open and close his door somehow without waking Patton, and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. He gazed tiredly at the clock that hung above the living room couch, and realised that he and Patton had slept all the way through to morning. Strange. Virgil never managed to get that much sleep. Maybe that was why he wasn’t feeling as crappy as he usually did after waking.

Smiling, he entered the kitchen and boiled the kettle while he set about making himself some breakfast, and then decided to make breakfast for everyone. It was a quarter past seven in the morning, and the others should be coming out of their rooms any minute now.

The kettle finished boiling and he made himself a cup of coffee, sipping at it absently as he watched the bacon and eggs sizzle in the frying pan. Just as he was taking them out of the pan, he heard footsteps descending from the staircase. Logan.

He set a plate of food for Logan at the table, and then one for himself, putting the rest of it in a container in the microwave so it would stay warm until the moral and creative Sides made their way down.

Logan entered the kitchen and sat down, then did a double take as he realised it was Virgil who had made breakfast, rather than Patton.

“Oh, good morning Virgil.” He said, his surprise evident. “I wasn’t expecting you to be up so early.”

“Yeah, well, I actually slept good for once, so…” He trailed off awkwardly, not really sure where he was going with that sentence. Abruptly, he remembered the less than pleasant conversation the two of them had had the day before, and Virgil felt suddenly ashamed of himself.

“I’m really sorry about yesterday.” He mumbled, not quite looking Logan in the eye. Logan blinked, surprised.

“I do not understand why you’re apologising to me, Virgil. It was I who made you feel uncomfortable, and for that, I am truly sorry. I know I'm not the best at emotions, but I should have recognised that I was pushing you too hard yesterday.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Virgil reassured the logical Side, setting down his plate and sitting beside him. “You were right. I did need to talk about it. Bottling up all my crap wasn’t healthy.”

Logan was quiet for a moment. “…I take it you talked with Patton?”

“I did.”

“And…how do you feel?”

Virgil stopped to think for a moment, asking himself that same question before giving Logan his answer. “A lot better, I think.” He decided. “Patton's a really good listener.”

“I’m glad.” Logan said, and Virgil could tell it was earnest. The two ate in silence for a few minutes, before Logan cleared his throat.

“I hope you know, Virgil, that you should not feel obligated to tell me anything you're not comfortable with me knowing. That being said, if you find yourself needing someone else to talk to, I will listen.” The logical Side reached out a hand, slowly, so that Virgil could move away from the touch if he wanted. He allowed it, though, and Logan rested his hand on Virgil's shoulder in a comforting manner. “I care very deeply for you, I hope you know that.”

“I do.” Virgil responded quietly, leaning into the touch slightly. “Thank you, Logan. It…means a lot to me, that you…you know. Care.” Logan removed his hand from Virgil's person and scooted his chair over a fraction, so that their shoulders were touching. The logical Side didn’t say anything else, but Virgil knew this was his way of showing his support.

They ate in silence for the next few minutes, just enjoying each other’s company, before a noise akin to a herd of stampeding elephants thundered down the stairs, and Virgil flinched slightly as Roman entered the kitchen, making his grand – and loud – entrance as he bade them both a good morning.

“Christ, Roman, could you be any louder? It’s too early for that shit.” Virgil grumbled as he took a long sip of his coffee.

“Well I'm sorry for being in a good mood this morning, Sir Doom and Gloom.” Roman retorted over his shoulder as he rummaged in the fridge for food.

“There’s bacon and eggs in the microwave, Princey.” Virgil informed him around the bacon in his mouth. “Jus’ make sure you leave some for Pat.”

“You mean Padre’s not awake yet?” Virgil shook his head. “Then who made the food?” Virgil raised an eyebrow as he shovelled another few pieces of bacon into his mouth. From the corner of his eye, he could see Logan trying not to smile.

Comprehension finally dawned on the creative Side and he cleared his throat awkwardly before mumbling a thank you to Virgil, who dismissed it with a wave of his hand. Roman collected his portion of food from the microwave and sat down at the table opposite Virgil, and began scarfing down his food as fast as humanly possible. Virgil gave a confused look to Logan, who shared it, before clearing his throat.

“Roman, you really should slow down. You’re going to choke.”

“Nonsense.” Roman said as he shoved the last piece of his food – an entire egg – into his mouth, his jaw moving as he chewed quickly and then swallowed the rest whole.

“Fuck me, you ate that entire plate of food in like…twenty seconds.” Virgil said.

“Yes, perhaps I did go a little too fast, but I have so many video ideas for Thomas now that he knows about Deceit, and I wanted to eat quickly so I could tell you about them!” Roman exclaimed, not noticing how Virgil flinched at the mention of Deceit.

Logan did, however, and was quick to interject. “Roman, are you sure it’s…wise, to bring Deceit back? He’s not exactly –” Whatever Logan was going to say, however, was cut off by an overly enthusiastic, idea-driven Roman.

“Look, I know he's not the most pleasant person to be around, but come on, with Thomas finally aware of his existence it opens up so many doorways for potential videos!” He stopped, looking to Logan and Virgil for…something. Validation, Virgil suspected, but he couldn’t bring himself to give it. He felt sick. He suddenly regretted all the food he had eaten, because the idea of Deceit coming back regularly for videos made him want to throw up. He stood abruptly, and both Logan and Roman jumped in surprise.

“I have to go.” He said stiffly, and darted out of the kitchen. He vaguely heard Logan excuse himself as Virgil fled up the stairs, but he didn’t pay any notice. His only goal was to get to his room.

He heard his name being called from behind him, and he realised Logan had followed him upstairs. He paused outside his door, hand resting on the knob and ready to twist.

“I know I was rude, okay? I’m sorry, but I can’t -”

“Virgil, it is okay, calm down.” Logan said gently. “I meant what I said earlier; I care for you, and if you need someone to talk to, I'm here.”

Virgil took a deep breath, and let his hand fall from the doorknob.

“Would you like to come to my room?” Logan offered. Virgil nodded, and the logical Side led him through his own door, and gestured for Virgil to find somewhere to sit. Logan's room was nice, Virgil noted. Set up similarly to his own room, but much tidier. Virgil sat on the bed, and Logan sat beside him. Virgil almost chuckled – he was sitting in the exact same position with Logan that he had been the afternoon before with Patton.

Logan placed a gentle hand on Virgil's own. He breathed in deeply.

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Virgil told his story. He didn’t go into quite so much depth this time, choosing to spare Logan from some of the more graphic details of his time with Deceit, but he didn’t leave out anything important. Like Patton, Logan was silent throughout the duration of Virgil's story, and by the end of it, there were tears on both faces.

At some point during the story, Logan had wrapped a hand around Virgil's shoulder as a gesture of comfort while he spoke, and now, Logan pulled him in close. They stayed that way for a while, before Logan finally spoke.

“Virgil, I…there are no words to describe how sorry I am that you had to go through all of that.”

“Hey, don’t apologise, it’s not your fault.” Virgil assured him. “You weren’t involved.”

“But that’s the thing, Virgil! I wasn’t involved in any of it! You had to go through all of those horrible things alone! I should have…I should have done something!” Logan put his face in his hands, and Virgil gently held his wrists and pulled them down so Logan would look at him.

“Hey, don’t go blaming yourself for something you had no way of knowing about.” Virgil said. “The only person to blame here is me. I’m the one who let those things happen to myself.”

“Falsehood!” Logan exclaimed, his brows furrowed. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for what that snake did to you! Sure, there are things you could have done differently, but he was the one who made the choice to hurt you! That was his decision, they were his actions, and I refuse to let you believe that his actions are your fault! Don’t. You. Dare.”

Virgil was silent, too stunned to actually say anything after Logan's outburst. Eventually, he just settled on a mumbled apology. Logan's expression softened at that.

“Virgil, please don’t apologise. It isn’t your fault. I promise it isn’t.”

“I know.” Virgil admitted. “Logically, I know it’s not my fault, but every time I think about it, I just think about all the ways I fucked up, made him angry. All the ways I could have avoided pissing him off or how I should have just come here when I first formed and avoided ever meeting him in the first place.

“There are so many what-ifs, Logan, and sometimes I feel like it’s my fault for making the wrong decisions, doing the wrong things. Could I have avoided all of it if I had just done something differently?”

Logan paused for a moment, considering. “Well, it is very likely that there are a multitude of ways things might have turned out differently had you made different choices, but I don’t think you should focus on that.”

“That’s a lot easier said than done, buddy.” Virgil said grimly.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Logan said. “What I meant was…rather than focus on the choices you made that led to an…undesirable outcome, try to focus on the choices you made that got you out of there. The ones that brought you here. It may make it easier for you, if only just a little.”

“…Thanks, Logan. That…that actually does help a bit.”

“I’m glad I can be of some help to you, Virgil.”

“Yeah…me too.”

Neither of them spoke for a while after that, content to just sit beside one another on Logan's bed and comfort each other. Virgil had the feeling Logan didn’t really know what to do, but that was okay, because neither did he. After a while, though, something dawned on him.

“Hey Logan?”

“Yes, Virgil?”

“I just realised I never got to finish my coffee.”

“Would you like to go make another one?”

“That would be fucking fantastic, tbh.”

“Did you just…did you just say the acronym for ‘to be honest’? Out loud? With your actual mouth?”

“I might have.”

“You are a disgrace to the English language.” Logan shook his head in disgust. Virgil laughed, standing up off the bed and pulling Logan up along with him.

“Come on, grammar police.” He chuckled. “Let’s go get a coffee. I fuckin need one.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but followed the anxious Side back downstairs.

Virgil noticed instantly upon arrival that Patton was now awake and busying himself with the dishes Virgil and Logan had left behind. The two apologised for their tardiness, but Patton dismissed them, insisting that some things were more important than dishes. He sent a small smile Virgil's way, and the anxious Side returned it as he flicked the kettle back on and retrieved his favourite mug from the drying rack. He was just pouring the hot water into his coffee when Roman came down the stairs.

“Oh, Padre, you're finally up!” He said, studiously avoiding both Logan and Virgil. A pang of guilt hit him – he felt bad for not engaging with Roman's enthusiasm this morning, but he still could not bring himself to talk to Roman about why he had left so abruptly. He was still terrified that Roman would be disgusted with him.

“Yup! Sorry for sleeping in so late. Someone,” Patton said, with a pointedly playful look at Virgil, “Didn’t wake me up this morning.”

“I thought you could use the extra sleep.” Virgil shrugged. “Besides, I didn’t mind making breakfast for everyone.”

“It was really good, by the way.” Patton encouraged with a smile, and the other two nodded their agreement, Roman somewhat reluctantly.

“Yeah well, it was nothing.”

“Speaking of nothing.” Roman interjected. “What was with this morning? You just ran off without a word.”

“On the contrary,” Logan piped up, “he specifically said ‘I have to go’ before leaving.”

“Oh that’s not what I meant and you know it!” Roman snapped, earning looks of shock from his three companions. “You didn’t even give me a chance to tell you my ideas before you tried to shut them down.” He turned back to Virgil. “And you, you just…ran off! Did you think my video ideas were going to be so horrible that you didn’t even need to hear them?”

“Look, I’m really sorry about that. It’s nothing personal. I'm sure your ideas were really great, but…”

“But what, Tom Riddle-r?” Roman spat, and Virgil backed up a step. Roman hadn’t been this openly hostile towards him since the Accepting Anxiety videos, and it startled him.

“But I don’t like Deceit, okay?” Virgil shouted. “I don’t trust him!”

“He may not be the most honest guy around, but at least he’s nicer than you are half the time!”

Patton's hands flew to his mouth in shock. Logan's jaw hung open.

Silence.

His hands were shaking.

“Fuck. You.” Virgil said lowly. He stalked out of the kitchen – coffee abandoned once again – and up the stairs. He paused, a hand on the banister. He looked down at Roman, straight in the eye. “Fuck. You.”

He opened his door. Slammed it shut so hard the walls shook. In the safety of his room, he sat down, wedging himself in the corner between his bed and the wall.

He shattered.

Chapter Text

Virgil curled in on himself, hands clamped over his ears in a desperate attempt to tune out the sound of the other Sides screaming from the floor below him. It felt like hours had passed since he slammed his door and locked himself away, but he knew it had likely only been a few minutes. He heard a slam and winced, pressing his hands harder over his ears against the sound of Patton raising his voice louder than Virgil had ever heard him.

He knew Roman didn’t know – couldn’t have known, about why Virgil was so against Deceit’s return, but still, the words he had said wouldn’t leave him alone. They kept repeating in his head, like a broken record – ‘at least he’s nicer than you are’.

He doesn’t know, Virgil told himself. He doesn’t know what Deceit’s really like. He’s never seen anything but what Deceit wants him to see.

The words became louder.

He didn’t mean it! Virgil thought aggressively, shaking his head. He wouldn’t ever actually think that, would he?

…But…if he didn’t mean it…why would he say it? Tears slid down his face at the realisation that Deceit had managed to manipulate Roman so thoroughly that he thought Deceit was a nicer person than he was.

Virgil squeezed himself tightly, trying to fight off the anxiety attack he could feel building. He tried to breathe, but his chest felt tight, too tight, and he couldn’t draw in enough oxygen, his breaths coming in short gasps. His heart was pounding in his chest.

He didn’t know how much time had passed since the attack had started, but when he finally calmed down, he noticed with a start that something in his room seemed distinctly…off. His eyes scanned the room, finally settling on a glint in the shadows.

He leapt to his feet and opened his mouth to scream, but before any sound could come out, his hand flew to his mouth without his consent, and his scream came out muffled. A low chuckle echoed through the room and Deceit stepped out of the shadows, an animalistic grin stretched across his face. A pathetic whine of terror sounded in Virgil's throat and he backed away, not daring to take his eyes off the figure before him.

“How’ve you been, Virgil?” Deceit purred. Virgil whimpered. “It’s been too long.”

Somehow, Virgil managed to muster enough courage to mutter “Not long enough” behind his hand. Deceit’s grin only widened.

He stepped forward.

Virgil moved away as far as he could, until his back hit the wall and a wave of panic washed over him. As Deceit stalked closer to him, he surged forward, shoving past Deceit in an attempt to get to the door. Just as his fingers brushed the doorknob, a hand fisted in the fabric of his hoodie and he was yanked sideways. He thrashed, trying to dislodge Deceit’s grip, and for a moment, he thought it was working, but then something slammed into the side of his head and he sagged, groaning, his vision going white as blinding pain lanced through his skull.

Deceit pinned him against the wall with his body, pushing against him. Virgil was trapped. The dark Side leaned down so that his face was level with Virgil's. Even in his dazed state, Virgil flinched at the proximity.

Deceit leaned down a little more, and chills ran down Virgil's spine as he felt the other Side’s breath against his face. Virgil felt his hand drop from his mouth, but before he could do anything, Deceit’s own gloved hand quickly took its place.

“Ah, Virgil. How I've missed you.” Deceit said softly.

“Fuck you.” Virgil said shakily against Deceit’s hand. He tried to pry himself free from Deceit’s hold, but he still felt fuzzy from the blow to his head, and he couldn’t muster up enough strength.

“I see you’ve grown defiant in my absence. Well, we’ll just have to fix that, won't we?”

Deceit eased the pressure of his hand against Virgil's mouth so the younger Side could speak, but left it hovering so he could quickly clamp it back if need be. “Why are you here, Deceit?” Virgil demanded through gritted teeth. He stopped struggling for a moment, decided to try and save his strength.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Deceit chuckled, leaning down so that his mouth was brushing against Virgil's cheek. “I'm here for you.”

A full-body shudder wracked through him, and Virgil had to fight to control his breathing. “You revealed yourself to Thomas just to come and, what? Try and take me back with you. Well hate to burst your bubble, snake-face, but I’m not going anywhere, and you can't make me.”

“I'd like to see you try and resist me.”

Virgil snarled, ducking down out of Deceit’s grip and launching himself forward, right into Deceit’s gut. Deceit stumbled backwards with a grunt, and Virgil made another dash for the doorway. As he was fumbling with the handle, he made the mistake of looking over his shoulder.

Deceit’s fist caught him right in the face and he went down, blinded by the impact. He fell into the door and Deceit yanked him backwards before he could hit the floor, snaking an arm tightly around his waist and pressing a gloved palm harshly against his mouth. Deceit leaned down, pressing Virgil's back into him.

“You will be mine!” He hissed into Virgil's ear, and Virgil flinched. “You will submit to me, even if I have to beat you until you're as purple as your hoodie, or break your bones until they’re as broken as your mind.” Deceit’s fingers slid under the hem of his shirt, digging into his side painfully. “You will be mine!”

Panic set in as Deceit shoved him into the wall, the hand at his waist moving down to undo Virgil's belt. Virgil jerked and tried to scream, but the hand at his mouth rendered him mute. He sobbed as Deceit shoved his pants down roughly, and then undid his own. The anxious Side was still screaming silently as Deceit kicked Virgil’s feet apart, forcibly spreading his legs. Virgil had no time to brace himself before Deceit shoved himself into the younger Side.

Virgil's screaming transformed to screams of fear to screams of pain.

Deceit set a brutal pace, pounding into him ruthlessly, tearing Virgil's insides and ignoring his screaming. Blood began to trickle down Virgil's thighs. His voice became hoarse from screaming, and soon he was unable to make any sound at all beyond pained grunts.

Out of nowhere, Deceit abruptly stilled inside of him, pressing his hand even harder over Virgil's mouth. After a moment, a knock sounded on Virgil's door.

“Virgil? Buddy? Are you okay?” Patton called from the other side.

“I’m fine.” Deceit called back, mimicking Virgil's voice with such terrifying clarity that Virgil shivered.

“Are…are you sure?” Patton asked, his concern evident. “I really think we should talk about what happened, Virgil. You know it’s not healthy to bottle up what you’re feeling.”

“There’s nothing to bottle up, Pat, I promise.” Deceit was horrifyingly good it imitating him.

“I really think I should come in –”

“Don’t you dare!” Deceit snapped, still using Virgil's voice.

“…Virgil? Are you sure you’re okay?” Patton asked hesitantly.

Deceit sighed, his breath tickling against the back of Virgil's neck. “I promise I’m okay, Patton.” Deceit lied. “Just please, can you leave me alone?”

“Well…alright. But I’m here if you need me, kiddo.” Patton hesitated another moment, then slowly walked away, taking Virgil's last hope with him. His breath hitched when Deceit smiled against the skin of his neck.

“Well, that was easy.” The older Side mumbled quietly. “They really do respect you, don’t they? How convenient for me.”

With Patton gone, Deceit started moving in him again, and Virgil could do nothing but whimper in pain. He pressed the side of his face into the wall, too weak to try to hold his head up any longer as Deceit fucked away his strength.

At some point Deceit realised that Virgil was far too weak to be able to call for help, and he removed the gloved hand from his mouth. Virgil's entire body was trembling. His knees gave out and he would have collapsed to the floor if Deceit didn’t still have his arm wrapped around Virgil's waist, holding him upright as the hand that had been at his mouth grabbed at his hip with bruising force.

Eventually, Deceit finished, sliding out of Virgil and lowering him to the floor. The younger Side was far too far gone to complain at the awkward angle – he could barely even keep his eyes open, let alone find the strength to speak. He couldn’t find it in himself to protest as Deceit got to his knees and flipped Virgil onto his stomach, knocking his trembling thighs apart and shoving himself back into Virgil's bleeding hole. No noise other than a pained grunt escaped him as Deceit gripped the top of his shoulders tightly in order to hold himself up as he used Virgil once more.

Sometime later, Deceit found his release again, and leaned down low over Virgil. His lips brushed against Virgil's ear.

“You are mine.” He whispered. “Do you understand that? All. Mine.”

Virgil's skin crawled at the possessiveness in the deceitful Side’s voice. A tear rolled down his cheek as Deceit pressed a harsh kiss into the side of his neck, sucking on his skin. He closed his eyes.

./././././././././

Roman exhaled slowly, a hand over his eyes. After spending all morning having Logan and Patton yell at him, he felt drained – both physically and emotionally. He knew that he’d messed up; the moment the words had left his lips he regretted them – and the look of utter betrayal in Virgil's eyes when he’d said them…Roman would never forget that look for as long as he lived.

Roman had gone too far. WAY too far. He hadn’t been that blatantly cruel to Virgil since, well. Since before the Accepting Anxiety videos. He was ashamed – deeply ashamed, that he had regressed that far in the span of a few seconds, and for what? Because he was angry? Because he felt unappreciated and ignored? That was no excuse.

He needed to apologise to Virgil. Needed to sit him down and try to explain what had been going through his head. He needed Virgil to know how deeply sorry he was that he had said such a hurtful thing, and that he hoped they could still be friends.

After what he had said, though, he would not – and could not – blame the anxious Side if he decided their friendship was over for good.

It was nothing less than what Roman deserved after what he’d done.

He spent a good ten minutes pacing up and down his room, trying to work up the courage to knock on Virgil's door and beg for forgiveness. Eventually, he decided against it – after Virgil had refused Patton entry, the creative facet realised that there was no way Virgil would let him into his space.

With no other option that he could think of, he steeled himself, and sank down, rising back up in Virgil's room.

“Virgil I'm really sorry for not knocking but I need to apo-” The words he had prepared died on his lips as he took a second to actually look.

“Well, this is completely expected.”

It took a second for his brain to process what he was seeing; Virgil, on his stomach on the floor, crying, bleeding, bleeding from somewhere no one should ever bleed from, and Deceit, on top of him, holding him down, making him bleed!

Roman saw red and a scream of rage tore itself from his throat as his body leapt into action, colliding with Deceit and tearing the villain away from his friend. He shoved Deceit to the floor and punched the snake in the face, again, and again, until Deceit stopped fighting back, unconscious.

Pure hatred coursing through his veins, he stepped away from Deceit, and turned back to his friend.

The hatred melted away into something more akin to anguish, though, as he took in the beaten, bloodied form of his friend. Virgil looked completely broken as he lay there on the floor, and Roman's heart clenched.

“Virgil?” He said softly. He approached slowly, so as not to startle him. “Virge? Are you there, buddy?”

Abruptly, Virgil flinched, and began to sob. His entire body was trembling, and Roman realised with a start that the anxious Side was trying to get to his feet.

“Don’t move, buddy.” He said as gently as he could. “Hang on, I got you.” Roman moved to try to pick him up, his fingertips just grazing Virgil's skin when the younger Side flinched violently.

“Don’t touch me!” He gasped.

“Okay, it’s okay, I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, I promise.” Roman assured him, raising his hands so that Virgil could see them. As he did, something in moved in the corner of his vision, and he turned back just in time to see Deceit sink out of the room. He must not have been unconscious after all.

“Shit.” He hissed, and Virgil flinched. Roman winced – he hadn’t meant to scare the terrified Side even more. “Sorry.” He said softly, trying to meet Virgil's gaze. When they finally made eye contact, his heart shattered into tiny pieces at how broken and afraid his friend was.

“What do you need, buddy?” He asked, schooling his voice into something he hoped was comforting. “What do you need me to do?”

“Pat’n.” Virgil rasped. “Need…Pat’n.” Roman wanted to cry at the desperation in Virgil's voice, wanted to scream at how difficult it had been for Virgil to voice just that much, but he kept it under wrap. This wasn’t about him.

“Of course, buddy. I’ll go and get him for you –”

“No!” Virgil cried desperately, his hand twitching towards Roman. “Please…don’t leave. Might…come back…”

With an aching heart, Roman realised Virgil was terrified that Deceit would come back for him if Roman left him alone for even a second. He nodded.

“Do you want me to summon him?”

“…Please.”

That settled it. Roman gestured to a random corner of the room, and raised his hand, Patton quickly rising up with it.

“What do you need Ro –Holy shit, Virgil!”

Roman didn’t even comment on Patton's use of inappropriate language as the fatherly Side rushed to Virgil, practically shoving Roman out of the way.

“Virgil, can I touch you?” Patton asked gently. Virgil nodded, and Patton carefully picked up the smaller Side.

“Roman, can you get the door, please?” Patton asked, but it came out as more of an instruction. Roman quickly opened the door for him, and Patton carried Virgil out of his room into the hallway. Roman deduced where he was heading and opened the bathroom door for him before the other Side got there, and Patton threw an appreciate smile his way before bumping the door closed with his hip, sealing Roman out.

At this point, Roman knew the best thing for him to do right now would be to go and find Logan and tell him what had happened, but his legs wouldn’t move.

“Easy now Virgil, it’s okay, I got you.” He heard Patton say through the wall.

“He – he, he came back, Pat.” Virgil sobbed. “I th-thought – I thought I was s-safe here but he –”

“Sshhh, I know sweetie, I know.” Patton said softly. Roman's eyebrows furrowed. What did Virgil mean, ‘he came back’? Had this…Oh God…had this happened before? Roman's stomach churned sickly.

The sound of running water – Patton was drawing Virge a bath? – and the fatherly figure’s quiet voice. “I’m sorry Virgil.” Patton said, so quietly Roman had to press his ear guiltily against the wall to hear what he was saying. “I should have followed you up and let Logan deal with Roman on his own. I – I should have known Deceit would try something, after everything you told me. I’m so sorry kiddo!”

“S’not your fault, Pat.” Virgil tried to assure him. “I should’ve known better by now how far he’ll go to get me back.”

Wait…what?

“Please don’t blame yourself, Virge. If it’s not my fault then it’s not yours either, okay?”

“…Okay, Pat.”

Roman stopped listening then, deciding that he really should go and inform Logan of the situation. With a heavy heart, he descended the staircase, his gaze seeking out the logical Side, who was sitting on the couch, perusing a book. Roman sat down next to him without a word, putting his head in his hands. Distantly, he heard Logan put down his book.

“Roman, are you okay? Your shoulders are shaking…”

Roman huffed a breath, setting his hands down in his lap, gaze fixed to the floor. God…how was he supposed to explain to Logan that Virgil had been–

“Roman…you’re crying.” Logan paused, tentatively reaching out a hand to place on Roman's shoulder. “What’s wrong?” Roman brushed his cheeks and realised that Logan was right – he really was crying. He drew in a shuddering breath.

“Logan.” He said shakily. “Virgil…he…”

It was painful, explaining to Logan what he had seen, and how terrible a state Virgil had been in when he’d found him. Explaining how he’d ripped the deceitful Side off him and pounded his face into the ground, but it still didn’t feel enough. Explaining how Roman had tried to help Virgil, but how only Patton could comfort him.

“And then, I know I shouldn’t have listened, but I couldn’t move my legs! I…heard Virgil say something. Something that…has me confused.”

“What did he say?” Logan said cautiously.

“He said that Deceit ‘would do anything to get him back’. What does that mean, Logan? Were they, like? An item or something?”

“Of course they weren’t an item!” Logan snapped, before his eyes widened. He swore to himself, and Roman's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Logan…what do you know?” Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look. This is not my story to tell, it is Virgil's, and I will not betray his trust by giving away to you information he told me in confidence. I’m sorry, Roman, but if you want to know Virgil's story, you're going to have to ask him yourself.”

“…No, that’s okay. If it’s private information, I won't force you to betray Virgil like that. God knows that’s the last thing he needs right now after what he's just been through.”

“Thank you, Roman.” Logan sighed again, taking his palm off Roman's shoulder in order to wring his hands together. A few moments of silence passed between them. “I really could murder Deceit, you know.” Logan murmured.

“Sorry?” Roman blinked; shocked that Logan would say such a thing. “I mean, I don’t disagree with you – I myself would be more than happy to run him through with my katana, but…I never expected you to–”

“Deceit is the scum of the Earth.” Logan said simply. “And if Thomas didn’t need him, I would have done so already.”

Roman knew Logan wouldn’t have, really. The logical Side didn’t have it in him to end someone else’s life. He was too good a person…but when he looked into Logan's eyes, he saw that despite this, at that moment, Logan truly wanted nothing else than to put down the one who had done the unspeakable to his friend.

He wasn’t alone.

He exhaled a heavy breath. “I don’t know what to do, Logan.” He admitted. “I mean, what am I even supposed to do after something like this?”

Logan thought for a moment before responding. “I think all we can do is be there for him, Roman. There’s nothing else we can do.”

“I can split Deceit’s skull open.” Roman growled.

“As cathartic as that would be for us, it would only negatively impact Thomas. Unfortunately.”

“But he’s a Dark Side!” Roman exclaimed. “Surely Thomas doesn’t need him!”

Logan sighed. “Sometimes lying is necessary, for the safety of oneself and for the safety of others. Think about it this way, if we take away Thomas’ ability to lie, he might –however accidentally– forcibly out several of his friends to people they have not come out to yet. Do you really want to be the one to do that?”

“…No.” Roman grumbled, admitting defeat. “But just because we can’t kill Deceit, doesn’t mean we can’t beat the shit out of him for what he’s done.”

For a while, Logan did not respond. When he did, he didn’t look at Roman at all, instead focusing very intently on the coffee table in front of them.

“I should hope that I would never see you do such a thing, right, Roman?” Roman took a moment to think on Logan's choice of wording, before nodding to himself, fighting back a smile.

“Of course, Logan.”

./././././././././

The next few days passed in a blur for Virgil. He felt so numb, but at the same time, so hyperaware of everything around him, and it was exhausting. Patton tried to get him to eat, but everything he put into his mouth tasted like cardboard. He felt bad, and tried to apologise to Patton for putting his hard work at cooking to waste, but Patton would not let him, insisting he had nothing to apologise for.

He disagreed.

He knew the others were worried about him – it had been days since he’d left Patton's room to do anything except use the bathroom, and even then trips outside his safety net were rare. Patton insisted he didn’t mind letting Virgil use his room, but Virgil knew his friend wished he would leave it more often.

He still couldn’t bring himself to go into his own room.

It had been days since…since what had happened, but he still couldn’t open his own door and walk into his own space. It didn’t feel like his anymore. Deceit had ruined this for him, too.

A knock at the door startled him, but Patton's cheery voice quickly calmed him down.

“Hey Virge, it’s just me. Can I come in?”

“Of course you can come in, Pat. It’s your room.”

“You know what I mean, Virgil.”

Virgil sighed, knowing exactly what he meant. “Yeah, Pat, you can come in.”

“Great!” Patton entered his room, shutting the door softly, and sat down cross-legged on the floor beside Virgil. “So, what’re we doing today?” He asked hopefully.

“I, uh…I dunno…” Virgil could sense Patton's disappointment at the response, and shrunk into himself a little bit. “Sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it, kiddo. No one expects you to be up an around right away.” Virgil didn’t say anything. “That being said…”

Virgil immediately tensed.

“I really think that…that you should talk to Roman.”

Virgil leapt to his feet, staring at Patton incredulously. “What? Why the Hell would I talk to Roman?”

“Virgil, he’s really worried about you. I think you should tell him about –”

“NO!”

Patton startled at Virgil's outburst, and Virgil immediately felt horrible, but he didn’t sit back down.

“Virgil, I’m not trying to pressure you, it’s just that…Roman is scared. He's scared for you, and he knows that Logan and I know more than we’re letting on, and he respects our decision to not give away your personal information, but…It’s driving him insane, knowing something’s wrong but not knowing what it is.”

“Bullshit!” Virgil snapped. “What, isn’t how he found me ‘wrong’ enough for him? Does he need to dive deep into my past to determine whether or not my behaviours are justified, or something? Because if that’s the case Roman can fuck all the way off!”

“No Virgil, of course that’s not it! Why would you think that?”

“Because Roman's never liked me! He made it perfectly clear the other day that he prefers Deceit over me, so why the fuck should I trust him with all my shit?”

“Virgil you know Roman didn’t mean what he said the other day!” Patton exclaimed desperately. “Surely you –” Patton stopped, and drew in a deep breath.

“Virgil, why don’t you want Roman to know about what happened?”

“BECAUSE HE’LL FUCKING HATE ME!”

Patton looked absolutely horrified.

“Virgil! Roman would never hate you!” Patton said when he eventually found his voice.

“You don’t know that!” Virgil insisted.

“Actually, he does.”

Virgil jumped, his heart doing flips in his chest. There, in the doorway, was Roman, looking rather hurt.

“See, Virgil!” Patton stood, placing a hand on Virgil's shoulder in a comforting manner. He lowered the tone of his voice into something gentler. “Roman does not, and will not hate you, Virgil. I promise.”

“I wish I could believe you, Patton.” Virgil said quietly.

“Virgil.” Roman moved out from underneath the doorway and stopped just outside Virgil's personal bubble. “Whatever it is, you can trust me. I may have been pretty horrible to you in the past, but I swear to you, I will never behave like that again.” He paused for a moment. “Please, let me help you.”

Virgil let loose a shuddering breath, and sat back down on the floor, Patton following him down. Virgil gestured for Roman to do the same.

For a good thirty seconds, Virgil struggled to find the words to begin his tale. It was Patton placing a comforting hand on his knee that finally gave him the clarity he needed to let the words flow.

And let them flow he did. For the third time this week, Virgil told his story, from the day Deceit found him in the subconscious to the moment Roman rose up in his room and ripped Deceit off him. It wasn’t as hard as the first time, but it still wasn’t easy. He cried several times, wiping at the tears angrily and forcing himself to continue.

Roman cried with him.

When Virgil was finally done; when his story had been told and he had no more secrets left to tell, he sagged, leaning into Patton and letting the moral Side comfort him wordlessly, as they allowed Roman to take some time to process everything he’d just learned.

When Roman finally stopped crying, Virgil held his breath.

“I should have hit him harder.” Roman growled. Virgil flinched, just a little, but it was enough for Roman to notice, and instantly the hardness in the creative Side’s eyes faded into something softer as he scooted forward, and, with permission, lay a gentle hand on Virgil's shoulder.

“Do you want a hug, Virgil?” He offered. Hesitantly, Virgil pushed himself off Patton and let himself fall into Roman's strong embrace. He buried his face in Roman's chest, and Roman rested his chin on top of Virgil's head.

“I’m so sorry, Virgil.” He murmured, and Virgil could hear the pain in his voice. “I’m so, so sorry that you had to go through that.” Roman's whole body was trembling, and Virgil held him tightly.

“Don’t be.” He implored. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, but,” Roman hiccupped, and Virgil realised abruptly that the creative Side had started crying again. “If only I had opened the door faster that day, things might never have gotten so bad for you. If only I hadn’t been such a rude bastard when you finally left him, you might not have spent so many years alone.”

“Maybe.” Virgil conceded. “Maybe not. It doesn’t matter now.”

Roman didn’t respond.

The two stayed there, held tightly in each other’s embrace. Before long, Patton, too, scooted over and joined in. Not too long after, Logan rose up – Virgil suspected that Patton had summoned him – and added himself to the cuddle-pile. The four of them stayed that way for what could have been hours or minutes, before the slight awkwardness of their positions forced them apart.  

Roman looked at him. “Virgil.” He said.

“…yeah?”

“There’s just one thing that I can’t wrap my head around.” Roman admitted.

“What?” Virgil asked timidly. Oh God please don’t ask why I stayed for so long, please, please, please, please, don’t–

“Why on Earth would you think I would hate you over this?”

Oh.

Virgil ducked his head shamefully. If Roman hadn’t figured it out by now, then surely, if he explained it Roman would–

“Virge?”

“…You’re the romantic Side.” Virgil stated, looking up at Roman through his bangs. Please, don’t make me spell this out for you.

“And…what does that have to do with it?” Roman asked, his head tilted slightly in confusion. Virgil's cheeks flushed.

“And, sex is…sex is supposed to be a…a romantic thing! Something two people who love each other, do to, to I don’t know, to show each other that! But…but when Deceit had sex with me, it was…it was never like that!” He snapped his head up abruptly. “Don’t you get it?”

Roman blinked. “No?”

“I think I do.” Virgil was surprised to hear Logan say, and he turned to look at the logical Side. Logan swallowed uncomfortably, and pushed up his glasses. “You think that because you and Deceit engaged in what is supposed to be a romantic gesture, without the context of romance, that Roman would resent you for making a mockery of something that he considers to be special. Is that correct?”

Virgil hung his head again, nodding.

“Oh.” Roman whispered. “Oh Virgil, Virgil no! I could never!” Virgil flinched as the creative Side placed his hands on Virgil's biceps. “Virgil, please…please look at me.”

Slowly, shamefully, Virgil raised his head, flickering his eyes back and forth, still too afraid of what Roman might say next to maintain eye contact.

“Virgil…what Deceit did to you was wrong. So, so wrong!” Roman affirmed. “And yes, romance, in all its forms, is dear to me, but…but I could never, ever, hold Deceit’s deplorable actions against you!”

He paused for a moment before speaking again, his voice softer than Virgil had ever heard from him.

“I could never, ever hate you. Especially not over something you had no control of. Do you…do you understand, Virgil?”

Virgil, tears streaking down his face, nodded.

“Oh thank God!” Roman whispered, pulling Virgil close. Virgil didn’t pull away.

./././././././././

Over the following weeks, Roman and Virgil quickly grew closer than they had ever been. His bonds with the other two strengthened as well, particularly his bond with Patton.

Virgil still had frequent nightmares, but he found that waking up in Patton's arms every time they chased him from his slumber was much better than waking up alone.

Virgil smiled as he felt Patton's arms tighten around him as the moral Side slept, and snuggled into his embrace. In Patton's arms, it was much easier to chase thoughts of Deceit away, far from his mind.

He knew Deceit would come back. Knew that he would probably never stop coming back, but he also knew that with his friends by his side, Virgil would never have to face Deceit alone ever again.

There would still be struggles. Revealing his past didn’t mean all of their problems were going to be magically erased from existence – but it did mean that they had a better understanding of him and how to help him. They did their best, and, beyond that, they loved him.

And that was all Virgil needed them to do.