Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When the leaflet had first come, he had ignored it. After all, so many adverts were for the newest beauty product or surgery. However, when he had found it again later and properly read it, he was more intrigued than anything.

'Have you ever wished to be the perfect version of you?

The most funny, beautiful, perfected version of a work in progress?

Well look no further, come on down today at the Blessfell Clinic.

Be the best you.'

Virgil scoffed, but reread the second sentence; 'The most funny, beautiful, perfected'. How could they make someone more funny? Were they saying they could change not just the look, but the attitude? The person themselves...?
He turned it over to see the hologram of the information, it softly flickered up to show a list of the things this 'treatment' could change. At the end it said the usual thing of 'plus more'. But Virgil was a little more than intrigued now.

He took the leaflet up to his room and dropped it onto his dresser, laying down on his bed and thinking it over. After all, he lived with people who were perfect without trying. Without having to change themselves. Roman, the model and actor who had also done some adult films, who was somehow a distant relative of an actual king. Patton, the cutest fluffball who worked as a top chef and adopted and rehabilitated stray animals in his spare time. Logan, the University professor who tutored children with mental illness and even donated to open a small library purely for children and families of children with learning difficulties.
And who was he? A no good, University dropout with a shitty bar job where nobody liked him anyway, living with three amazing, generous people who made him feel like a charity. He was such a bad person that his parents and family hadn't even wanted to stick around to see how bad he'd grow up to be.
Even at first Roman had hated him, constantly calling him names or telling him to go away simply for voicing a different opinion than his own. His Surrogate brother Thomas had been scared of him, taking ages to warm up to his different way of seeing things due to Virgil's anxiety making his worse. Logan had called him a defeatist when he was sad about failing university, and Virgil knew Logan was probably disappointed that he was the only person he'd tutored who had failed.

There were others as well, heck even Patton had taken a while to get used to him, despite how close they seemed now. They were all closer now, now he'd been 'accepted'. But... most of the time he felt that they just humoured him. Let him live with them because he had nowhere else to go and they were all too nice and... perfect... to kick him out.
He turned and looked back to the dresser, looking at the address on the leaflet.

He had tried to make himself more like the others. He gave his tip money to charity and got the most pitying look from the man behind the counter, like they knew he should probably be in the charity as well if he was THAT broke. He had tried to make himself skinnier, more attractive like the model, Roman had heard him throwing up and had kept an extra close eye on him after that. He had tried to help Patton look after a puppy, but the dog spent most of the time hiding and shaking from him.
In the end he had started to give up... he wasn't anything special and he wouldn't ever be.

But maybe, just maybe, with this procedure, he could be better? A new Virgil. A better, funnier, nicer, more attractive Virgil. It sounded nice...
He looked up to the ceiling and called out for the AI (Which Logan had named JARVIS from the Marvel films - he thought that was funny) to change the ceiling to mirror mode.
He watched as the starscape changed to his reflection, laying on his bed, staring at himself.
He didn't tell the others, sometimes he would use the editing feature to change how he looked into someone better. He hated the way he looked. Patton said he was amazing just the way he was, but Virgil knew it was a lie. Patton had called him 'lanky'. To be lanky you have to be skinny... Virgil knew he was tall, taller than the others even. It added to his scary looks... but by no means was he skinny... his reflection wouldn't lie. He had been a skinny kid sure, but as the years went on he could tell he had gained weight... and he hated it. His face was the worst, even when he didn't put on his makeup he had deep bags under them from lack of sleep, his skin was pale to the point where he looked sick. His fringe flopped over his face and his lips were scabbed from years of nibbling and biting on them. And that was only how he vaguely looked. It only got worse when he added in his personality, his sense of humour, his multiple issues and his fashion sense and the fact that he did actually have to ear glasses. He was sure there was other things as well, but he couldn't bring himself to think more about how terrible and imperfect he was.

He took off his hoodie, laying it next to him, then reluctantly took off his top, then trousers, laying back down in his boxers. He looked back up at the mirror, taking in every bad detail he could, every wrong that could be a right. Anything that could be fixed and make him perfect, like the others.
It's not that he deserved it, they did. They didn't need a liability holding them back. They needed someone who was on their level. Someone who wouldn't make them look bad in public, or like they were helping in the Make a Wish Foundation.

He couldn't take it anymore.

He jumped up, placing the wrapping back over his arms, his shirt, his hoodie. Then the same with his legs, then his jeans. He grabbed his headphones and the leaflet and stuffed it into his pocket before making his way downstairs. The others greeted him and he did as usual and pretended their very presence didn't make him feel like the worst person on the planet, and informed them he was going out for a bit.
Patton was sad Virgil wouldn't be home for dinner, and of course that fact made Roman suspicious, but Virgil told them he was going to eat while he was out anyway, and before any more questions could come his way, he headed out of the door.
He walked down the street, placing on his headphones and pushing a button on the side which pulled up a small eye glass. He looked through his recent files and found the leaflet information and address, and made his way toward the Blessfell Clinic.

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And that's how he found himself in the solitary waiting area at the clinic, anxious, but ready to be perfect.

Chapter Text

Virgil had walked up to the reception desk, standing there for a moment as the woman behind the desk typed on her computer. "Uh-" The woman held up a finger, telling him to wait a moment.
After an awkward couple seconds, she passed a clipboard with a few papers on it over the counter, placing a pen on top. "Fill this out, hand it back in when you're done and we can then begin to help you become the perfect you." She spoke, clearly a rehearsed line. He thought about how she probably started off interested in this job, she was probably happy to work in such a swanky, nice, vibrant place. It was modern, sleek, clean. He knew how quickly the novelty of a new job wore off though.
"Thanks..." He mumbled, taking the clipboard and walking over to the seats to fill it out.

The questions were strange, some straight up just asked him what he wanted to change, in terms of appearance. With the other questions however he felt like they were probing his mind to see what mental illnesses they could change, to make him better. He didn't mind, after all, he was here for a reason right? He filled the sheets out as honestly as he could, though some of the questions made him uncomfortable.
He had to fill out his height, weight, gender, age, and pick a picture that made him feel the most uncomfortable. To be fair none of them were exactly pleasant... But he finally made a choice and checked to make sure he'd filled everything in. Once that was done he flipped back to the front page, where a box popped up asking for his name and whether or not he would like to change it. He didn't. He had changed his name when he moved in with the guys, and he was proud of how much it suited him. 'Virgil Thorne' he wrote into the box with his scratchy but neat handwriting, the handwriting of an artist, and triple checked the rest of the forms before taking them back over to the desk.

The woman looked up this time and actually gave a kind smile when she saw how young Virgil actually was. She took the forms and clicked a button on the clipboard, which surrounded the forms in a light blue holographic box, a scanner. She looked to her screen. "Right," she leaned closer to the screen. "Virgil. We now have your forms in our database, I'll ask you to move through to the waiting room through the rounded black door round that side of the counter, through there you will be waiting for a small while as we see what the best course of action is for your type of perfection, it will be a private waiting room, fit with a bathroom, mini fridge - which you can browse at your pleasure - you look like you could use a sandwich, and then when we're ready we'll call for you to come down to the perfection chamber." She spoke, not taking her eyes off of the screen.
Virgil nodded. "Thanks..." He said before heading over to the door she'd indicated. He had thought they'd ask for payment of some kind, he did have some credits collected up as well as a tiny bit of money saved. But maybe they would ask him after it was done?

And that's how he found himself in the waiting room of the centre.

It was a nice room, and it was nice to have a room to himself to wait in. While he was still nervous and the anxiety was beginning to kick in properly now, it always made him more nervous to be in a full waiting room with other people. It's one of the reasons why he hated the hospital.
He looked through the mini fridge, finding some of his favourite drinks in there. He found it slightly weird but they did have his files, they must have gathered some things out about him. Especially considering they would be using those forms to change him into someone better. They had to know what they were doing.
There was a screen to one side of the room which showed what the camera in the corner was recording, the room. He saw himself looking at the screen and decided to avoid that area since it felt creepy for the screen to be showing him footage of what was happening to himself at the moment, besides, he hated what he looked like.
There were a few sofas, some paper and pencils, a few books - which again seemed to be tailored to his tastes, Alice in Wonderland, The Shining, and some more of his favourites - a bowl of fruit which he knew weren't in season. They really were trying to make him feel more comfortable... He tried to shrug off the unsettled feeling he had and settled down on one of the seats, picking up a book - Skulduggery Pleasant - and settled down as best he could knowing that they were watching him through the camera and seemed to know him way too well from his forms.