Archive of Our Own

Virgil pushed himself off the floor, arms struggling to support his weight as he managed to make it to his knees, unable to stop trembling as the pain in his ribs and face grew to an unbearable throb. 

He bit back rising tears, grabbing the couch for support to pull himself to his feet. He deserved this, he knew that. He’d really messed up this time. 

But that was ok. He’d had worse ( much worse). He could handle this. All he needed to do was get back to his room, hide out for a few hours to let the everyone’s temper simmer down, and then cover his face with enough concealer to hide any marks left on his skin. 

No need to let everyone see what he’d deserved. It would only serve as an invitation to let them do it again. 

The room tilted a bit when he finally stood up, but it righted itself quickly as Virgil blinked, hissing against the flare of pain where he’d been struck just below his eye. 

He just needed to make it up the stairs, lock the door of his room and then--

“Anxiety?” 

Virgil froze, halfway to the stairs, forcing himself to straighten up as Deceit appeared in the kitchen doorway, watching curiously through mismatched eyes. 

“You look well,” he drawled, and moved to point a finger to his own face, mirroring the mark on Virgil’s. “What happened there?” 

Virgil scrambled for an acceptable answer, coming up short as the panic quickly returned. He was...acquainted with Deceit but he didn’t know how best to traverse the other side when he was angry. He’d somehow been lucky enough to avoid setting him off. 

“I uhm, I was just--” 

There was suddenly a hand on the back of his neck, digging into his black hoodie, cold and controlling even through the cloth, and Virgil quickly snapped his mouth shut, knowing who was behind him without needing to look. 

“It was just a simple accident,” the voice behind him said, dripping with false gentility. “I was grabbing Anxiety an ice pack- we all know how clumsy he can be.” 

Deceit frowned, eyes flickering between the two sides. At the time, Virgil hadn’t recognized what it was, but for just a second something dangerously close to hope had flickered in his chest. Because Deceit looked unconvinced. 

But it was gone as quickly as it came, dying back down into cold helplessness as the snake just sighed, shook his head and sank back down to his room. 

Before Virgil could even move, the ice pack was being swung forward like a weapon, finding purchase against his already bruised cheek, hard enough to send him stumbling back against the staircase with a cry of pain. 

“You’re welcome,” the side snapped, uncaring as ever. “I did you a favor- making sure he doesn’t know how much of a fuck up you are. He hasn’t had to hurt you yet, has he?” 

Virgil shook his head, doubting the other wanted a verbal response from him right now. He stayed tense, braced for another blow, clutching the stair railing like a lifeline. 

But it was true. Deceit was one of the only sides that had never been given a reason to punish him, and Virgil was more than happy to keep it that way. 

The light sides hated him, he knew that, but he was careful not to stick around long enough to let them take out their anger, much as he deserved it. He had enough of that already. 

Remus hadn’t gotten around to punishing him either, but the other half of creativity was terrifying for a whole list of other reasons. Virgil knew better than to risk pissing him off. 

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” the other side said, tossing the unused ice pack in the trash. “Can you make it to your room?”

Virgil quickly nodded, knowing full well the question wasn’t asked out of sympathy or concern. The last time he hadn’t been able to walk on his own he’d practically been dragged by his hair up the stairs and down the hall, cruel hands only tugging harder when he struggled. 

The other side apparently took his word for it, thankfully turning away without another remark, sinking out and leaving Anxiety alone again. 

Virgil blinked, leaning back against the headboard of his bed, mulling over the memory for what had to be the third time that evening. 

That had to have been...what, years ago? Too long ago to know for sure. 

That was just...how things had been back then. Virgil was pushed around, beaten and berated, constantly punished for things that (he now knew) should never have been a big deal. 

But he’d assumed it was normal. Normal for Anxiety to be hated and hurt, normal to be terrified of any mistake, no matter how small. Because his presence was tolerated, not wanted. Because he was a villain. 

He’d believed it. All of it. And so naturally, he’d just as easily believed Janus and Remus were just as likely to punish him. 

Everyone wanted to hurt Virgil. The light sides, the dark sides, and the sides Thomas would never see. That was what Anxiety was there for. 

If a side hadn’t hurt Virgil, it was only because they hadn’t been given a reason yet. They would eventually. 

But now...looking back on it, maybe it wasn’t so simple. They’d lied about why they’d hurt him, he knew that now, so maybe they’d lied about Janus and Remus too. 

They’d told him Patton, Roman, and Logan would hurt him just as happily as anyone else, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

So maybe lying to Janus every time he’d been caught with a black eye or bloody nose hadn’t been to spare Virgil from another beating. Maybe it was just to cover up their own lies and abuse. 

Maybe Janus and Remus hadn’t joined in the abuse because they hadn’t known. And if they’d known it would have stopped. 

God, Virgil hoped they hadn’t known. 

He didn’t know what he’d do if they had, and they’d just watched and let it happen. He didn’t know what the others would do. 

It was the reason he hadn’t asked yet, too terrified to hear the answer, even as Janus revealed his name and gradually began to fit into their lives, and Remus inevitably began hanging around more. 

Because...because what if they had? What if they were just as willing to hurt him as the others had been? What if things went right back to how they used to be? 

He knew...he knew the others would never let that happen. Accepting Janus was a shaky process, and they were getting there, but Virgil knew that if Janus attempted to strike him…

Well, it wouldn’t be pretty. He knew how protective his family was when it came to sending him back to that awful mindset. 

But if Janus and Remus were aware, if they were living under the assumption that Virgil was there to be a punching bag…

All his progress would be undone. He’d go right back to how things had been, always terrified and overly cautious, any little slip up enough to send him into a mindless, blinding panic. 

He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t live like that again. Not after being safe for so long. 

So when Logan asked if Virgil had plans to tell Janus and Remus, he’d quickly shut the idea down and disappeared into his room before the logical side could offer any convincing argument. 

Not knowing was better. He could just assume everything was fine and continue on like normal. If he never asked, never clarified, he couldn’t be given the answer he was dreading. 

Of course, nothing could ever be so simple for him, could it?

It was mid afternoon, all of them dispersing to wind down after their usual routine of yelling at each other in Thomas’s living room until their host somehow came to a conclusion, and Virgil had wandered into the kitchen for something to drink. 

Janus was already there, leaned back in the dining room chair with what looked like a glass of wine, and for just a second Virgil hesitated. 

He and Janus had been...working on their rocky relationship. Slowly. They were getting there, Virgil just...wasn’t sure how he felt about being alone with him. 

Because if there was no one around to stop him, and Virgil ended up doing something wrong and Janus had been perfectly aware of the abuse then there was nothing stopping him from--

“Virgil,” Janus greeted, easy and welcoming. “There definitely aren’t any leftovers from last night in the fridge.” 

Virgil relaxed, allowing an easy smile to slip onto his face. Nobody had any reason to be upset with him. It was fine. 

And he had to admit, aside from the lingering fear that refused to give him a moment of peace, having Janus and Remus around was...not as bad as he initially thought it would be.

He put the leftovers in the microwave and carefully got out one of the plastic cups to fill up with water while he waited. 

Janus had made a smug remark about using plastic cups the first time he’d joined them for dinner. 

The energy in the room had suddenly dipped, Logan and Patton exchanging nervous glances while Roman squeezed Virgil’s hand so tight he thought it might bruise. 

Janus must have picked up on the importance of the plastic, because the dishes were used without further complaint ever being brought up again. 

Virgil was yanked from his thoughts when Remus suddenly made his appearance in the kitchen, his Morning Star slamming down on the counter just inches from the anxious side, a hand coming down to rest on the back of his neck. 

It was a textbook example of what would trigger Virgil into a panic attack, but of course Remus wouldn’t know that. No one had told him because Virgil had specifically asked them not to- not yet anyway- and he was suddenly understanding why Logan had been so hesitant to honor his wishes. 

He lurched back so fast, twisting out of Remus’s hold, that he briefly forgot there was a drink in his hand, the water sloshing over the edge and seeping into the rug below his feet. 

“Very mature,” Janus said, draining the rest of his glass. “Do you two mind not making a mess? I’m trying to unwind.” 

Janus wasn’t angry. Amused, if anything. Virgil could have easily locked onto his tone and recognized that if he’d been just a bit more put together. 

But Remus was grinning, blocking the exit, and wielding a weapon (he was usually wielding a weapon, there was no reason Virgil should be this frightened), and it was quickly growing impossible to latch onto rational thought. 

“It’s not my fault Emo’s so clumsy,” Remus said, twirling his Morning Star until it rested over his shoulder, and Virgil desperately willed himself to just calm down. “I was just saying hi!” 

He’d made a mess and he was trapped. He was outnumbered too...it would be so easy for Janus and Remus to grab him and--

But they wouldn’t. Not where the others could see. But...but the others weren’t here. Not right now. Where were they? 

“Patton’s not gonna be happy about that spill,” Remus said, with a tone that Virgil would know was simple teasing under any other circumstance. “Don’t you think we should teach the emo a lesson, Jan?” 

He was joking, he was joking. Remus was so clearly joking- they did stupid shit like this all the time. This was when Virgil would promptly tell Remus to go fuck himself, the Duke would make a sexual innuendo and stick around just long enough to steal some of his food. 

That was how it was. Because despite everything, Virgil and Remus got along. When Virgil wasn’t struggling to convince himself he wasn’t about to be beaten to death. 

He swallowed, his throat having suddenly gone cold and dry. “He...they- they won’t let you, Remus.” 

“Aw, what’s wrong, Virgey? Scared of me?” 

Yes . Terrified. But he couldn’t say that- he wasn’t supposed to be afraid. He’d made a mess, he’d ruined things, he was expected to understand and take the pain. 

But it wasn’t like that anymore. He was supposed to be safe. 

Virgil kept his hands behind him to hide the way they’d started shaking, curling them around the kitchen counter, and he cautiously glanced at Janus in one last desperate cry for help. 

He just raised an amused eyebrow at Remus, not bothering to hide his smirk. “I believe Logan is napping. Just try not to wake him up, whatever you do.” 

And just like that, it was back. The helplessness, the fear, the feeling of being trapped and cornered like some kind of cowardly animal people took sadistic joy in kicking around for fun. 

Virgil was darting forward before he really even thought about it, too frantic to consider sinking out, eyes only on the exit to the rest of the mindscape where he could get help--

But Remus was faster of course, having been stood just inches away from the anxious side to begin with, dropping his weapon in favor of grabbing Virgil around the waist and abruptly hoisting him off the floor. 

“Remus!” It came out much more strangled than he would have liked, but that was the least of his worries. “Let me- let me go.” 

“Aw come on, we’re just having fun!” 

Virgil wanted to fight- he wanted to kick and scream and do whatever he could to get out of the Duke’s grasp. He needed to get free, he needed to run and find one of the others. They would help him. They’d promised. 

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t move, frozen in the confining hold, eyes wide and breathing erratic. He couldn’t fight back because if he struggled…

Whenever he struggled it was worse. He wasn’t supposed to fight back. He deserved whatever came next. 

But he had people who would help him now. But those people weren’t here-

“Remus.” That was Janus’s voice, muffled by Virgil’s own racing heart, and he thought he saw the other side stand from his chair. “Remus let him go.” 

“Aw, but I’m--” 

“Remus, put him down now!” 

The yelling made it worse- overwhelming and loud and angry- 

Remus let go without warning, which meant Virgil was on the ground before he could even blink, on his back and defenseless. 

Remus was looking down at him, head tilted like a confused puppy, playful grin gradually dropping into something more confused. 

“You alright, Emo?” 

Virgil was already scrambling backwards, desperate and uncoordinated, only stopping when he found himself pressed up against the bottom of the kitchen counter. 

Remus and Janus were both standing now, watching with a mix of perplexion and rare concern. Janus took a step forward, and Virgil’s hands moved to protect his face. 

“Virgil—“ 

“You can’t.” He knew begging wouldn’t get him anywhere, as close as he was to falling into an endless string of pleas. But maybe he could get them to understand that they couldn’t do this anymore. 

“Y-you- you can’t, you can’t they won’t- Thomas won’t he said- he said—“ 

“I don’t understand, Virgil.” Janus was lowering himself to one knee, no longer looming above him, and Remus was hurriedly backing up like Virgil was a bomb rigged to explode. “Can you explain to me what’s wrong?” 

Virgil couldn’t breathe. Janus was too close and the exit was still blocked and he couldn’t take a single breath.

“Please don’t,” he found himself begging, pathetic and useless as ever. “You can’t hurt me, you can’t . Not anymore not- T-Thomas won’t—“ 

“Wait what?” Remus called from the doorway. “Hurt you? Shit, Virge I wasn't gonna—“

“Virgil, you need to breathe,” Janus said. “One deep breath, you’re alright.” 

He shook his head, hating himself for the way he’d so quickly been reduced to a trembling, terrified mess, hating the way both dark sides could so clearly see it. 

“Can’t,” he managed through frantic wheezes. “I can’t, I- please please don’t, I don’t want to be hurt again please.” 

His words were met by a brief string of silence, heavy and unsure, Janus’s gloved hands hovering helplessly in the air. 

“Virgil.” Janus’s voice made Virgil freeze, something steady but so clearly struggling not to be angry. “Have they hurt you before?” 

“I…” he was struggling to answer, to wrap his head around what was being asked. “I don’t—”

“Virgil,” Janus said again, hand still outstretched but not touching, brown and gold eyes intense enough to be staring into his soul. “The others. Did they hurt you?” 

Virgil swallowed, unable to stop shaking, arms still held out to protect his face, all his attention focused solely on the anger Janus was obviously trying not to show. 

He couldn’t lie. Janus would obviously know if he was telling the truth or not- that's who he was . Virgil couldn’t risk making him even more upset. 

“They- they did,” he forced out, his own voice small and unsteady. “I’m s-sorry I thought you—“ 

“Guys?” There was movement somewhere behind Janus, a glimpse of white and gold. “What’re you- oh shit, Virgil!” 

Virgil stopped at the new presence at the doorway, the relief that flooded at the sight of Roman dizzying, even as he choked and struggled to breathe on the kitchen floor. 

Roman started forward, eyes shining with that gentle worry Virgil had long ago learned to recognize through the haze of panic. 

But Remus was suddenly in front of his brother, Morning Star back in his hand, effectively blocking his path. Roman stopped, concern shifting to surprise- then quickly to cold fury. 

“Remus,” he practically growled. “Get out of my way.” 

“I don’t think I will.” 

“Remus, he’s having a panic attack!” Roman’s eyes briefly met Virgil’s, before his view was blocked again. “He doesn’t know what’s happening! This isn’t funny!” 

“No, it’s not,” Janus said, standing from his crouch. “So you better tell us what the hell you did to him.” 

“I- what?” 

“He thinks we’re going to hurt him,” Remus snapped. “Why the fuck does he think that, Roman?” 

Everyone was angry (why was everyone so loud?), all of them looming above him, standing over him to keep him down, all of them close enough to grab or hurt him if he made one wrong move. 

What was Roman doing? Why wasn’t Roman helping him? He could barely make out the Prince from where he was...was he just letting this happen?

“Virgil?” Janus was talking to him again, glancing between Roman and the trembling lump on the floor. “You’re hyperventilating, V, you need to--” 

“Of course he’s hyperventilating!” Roman said, and Virgil jumped at the sudden volume. He sounded angry. Had..had he managed to make Roman upset too? “You idiots won't let me help him!” 

Remus held his ground, weapon still raised, and Roman looked like he was seconds away from drawing his sword against his brother. 

“I’m not letting you near him until you tell us exactly why he’s so convinced someone’s about to beat him!” 

“I will, just--” 

“He said you hurt him! He fucking said that, Roman!” 

“It’s- shit, Remus it’s not like that--” 

Janus was suddenly crouched in front of Virgil again, blocking his view of the fight, his voice close enough to muffle the yelling. 

“I need you to breathe,” he said, voice taking on a gentle tone Virgil hadn’t heard in a long time. “You’ll be alright, but I need you to breathe with me.” 

Virgil shook his head, pressing further back against the counter, nails digging into the rug beneath him. He couldn’t breathe- wouldn’t force himself to calm down when he knew the second he did it would only be met with pain and punishment, right when he’d started to think he was safe. 

He wasn’t safe. He was never safe, they would always hurt him because he deserved--

Janus reached for his hand, already starting a vaguely familiar breathing exercise, but Virgil yanked his arm back, hardly registering the flare of pain that came from slamming into the counter, the fear suffocating. 

“Don’t!” He snapped, too shaky and quiet to be intimidating in the slightest. But Janus froze nonetheless, the human side of his face falling. “Don’t- don’t touch me, you can’t do this anymore!” 

“Virgil—“ 

It was too loud, everyone was too loud and angry and he’d managed to upset everyone again. He didn’t know where Patton or Logan were (had he upset them too? Had he done something wrong? Maybe they’d finally decided to let things go back to how they were) , and he could barely hear anything Janus was trying to say. 

And then, fueled only by panicked instinct rather than rational thought, Virgil forced himself to sink out, the storm of sound from the kitchen fading just like that. 

He was still on the ground, fingers now digging into plush carpet, everything finally still and quiet. 

But he still couldn’t breathe, still drowning under the knowledge that everything had gone back to the way it was. Everyone was angry, everyone wanted him to hurt—

“Virgil?” 

He jumped, scrambling to his feet despite knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that he hadn’t gone back to his own room, not wanting to be alone. He was never safe when he was alone. 

“Virge? Buddy, what’s wrong?” 

Virgil realized he’d left the mindscape as soon as he saw Thomas toss his phone aside and get up from the couch- and he wanted to sob at the utter relief that came with seeing his host’s kind and worried gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, more on instinct than anything else, but he had popped in without any warning, wheezing and crying and probably freaking Thomas out. “I just...c-can I stay? Please, I can’t- I can’t go back, I don’t--” 

“Hey hey hey, you’re ok,” Thomas said, stopping just a few paces from Virgil. “Of course you can stay, bud. You can stay with me as long as you want.” 

Thomas smiled, small and hopeful as he opened his arms in a wordless invitation, and Virgil didn’t hesitate before flinging himself forward and sobbing into Thomas’s chest, his legs threatening to give out when arms moved to wrap around him, protective and secure. 

“There you go,” Thomas said, rocking them both gently, his steady heartbeat beating in Virgil’s ear. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, you’re ok. What’s going on, Virge?” 

He clutched the material of Thomas’s shirt, willing himself to breathe normally, his gasps still coming in too short and too fast, wincing at the sound of his own awful wheezes. 

“I-I c-can't- I can’t do it again,” he sobbed, vaguely aware he was probably ruining Thomas’s shirt, but the host didn’t seem to mind. “They...it stopped and now i-it’s gonna happen again and I can’t--” 

“Alright, slow down,” Thomas soothed, making no move to let go. “Focus on my breathing, ok? Try and copy me.” 

“I-I...I can’t--” 

“Yes you can. I’m right here, you’re safe, I promise you’ll be ok. But you need to breathe, Virgil. Please, you’re scaring me.” 

That was enough to get through to Virgil, a bit of reason amidst the panic. Thomas was already scared, and Virgil was only going to amplify that. And if he hurt Thomas ...oh god, if Thomas was affected by this it would only give everyone another excuse to be angry-- 

“Sorry,” he forced out around his obnoxious crying. God why couldn’t he just be quiet? “S-sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry Thomas, I can try to--” 

“Don’t apologize,” Thomas said, holding him tighter. “I’m not angry, bud, I’m worried. Just try to breathe with me, ok?” 

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, willing his racing thoughts to quiet just long enough for him to listen, to focus on Thomas’s slow and steady breaths, on the rise and fall of his chest. 

The panic didn’t fade, the feeling that at any moment someone would appear to drag him back blaring like an alarm, but after a few moments the ache in his chest began to ebb, and Virgil felt himself come back just a bit. 

“There you go,” Thomas praised, even as Virgil’s breathing continued to be broken up by sobs, still shaky and small and much too fast. “You’re doing so well. You’ll be ok.” 

Virgil shook his head, shuddering when Thomas reached up to cup the back oh his head. “They- they’re gonna do it again and I can’t, I--”

“Virgil--” 

“Please.” He couldn’t pull away, couldn’t look up and risk seeing pity or annoyance, the dismissal of Virgil’s fear that would leave him helpless and alone all over again, like nothing had ever changed. “Please don’t let them do it again, Thomas please. You said- you- you said...just please don’t change your mind, Thomas, please.” 

His words were met with silence, the living room still and quiet for just a moment before Thomas loosened his grip. 

“Let’s...why don’t we get you over to the couch? I don’t think you’re thinking very clearly.” 

Virgil couldn’t move, ice cold dread clawing at his throat. “Please...please, Thomas, please.” 

“Hey.” Thomas was suddenly in front of him, hands on Virgil’s shoulders practically keeping him upright, and the anxious side warily met his gaze. “I promise, I won't let anything bad happen to you, Virgil. I don’t know what you think is happening right now, but we said no one would ever hurt you again, right?” 

“I...but they- what if they--?” 

“We can talk about it when you’re calm,” Thomas said. “You’re exhausting yourself. But I can promise you, things will never go back to the way they were. Ever. We love you Virge, and that’ll never change. Do you understand?” 

Virgil blinked, breath caught in his throat, struggling to latch onto the words he so desperately wanted to believe, fighting to just listen and relax. 

“It’s ok if you don’t right now,” Thomas added when Virgil didn’t respond, and nothing about his tone hinted that he was annoyed or upset. “I know you’re not completely here right now. But you protect us, right? So just...believe me when I say we’re gonna do the same for you.” 

And then Virgil was suddenly being led forward, the unfortunately familiar exhaustion eating away at the lingering panic, everything feeling oddly distant and dull. 

He allowed Thomas to lower him onto his back against the couch cushions, fighting back another hiccuping sob when something soft gently wiped away his tears. 

Thomas was talking to him again, soothing but worried, and by the time Virgil thought he heard other voices join in, his eyes had already slipped closed. 

When Virgil woke up again, it only took a few terrifying moments to realize he was on Thomas’s couch, the events of the afternoon flooding back, along with the shame and embarrassment. Just like always. 

Damn. He’d really fooled himself into believing he was getting better, huh? It’d had been weeks since he’d panicked that badly...he’d actually started to think he was over that. 

But then again, this had been...different. Janus and Remus hadn’t known. They could very well be under the impression that hurting Virgil was expected. Encouraged, even. 

God, he should have asked. He should have set the record straight as soon as Janus was accepted. Now they might be upset or angry, and they could be planning to-- 

There were footsteps from the kitchen, making their way towards the couch. They stopped as soon as Virgil’s breath hitched, his fingers curling into the blanket that had been carefully placed over him. 

“Kiddo?” 

He instantly relaxed at Patton’s voice, just over a whisper, and he let out a shaky breath as the steps continued. 

“Hey,” Patton said, setting down a mug on the coffee table and kneeling beside the couch. “How’re you feeling?” 

Virgil shrugged and struggled to sit up, wincing when pain shot down his arm, gratefully accepting the help Patton quickly offered. “I’m fine. Just...just tired.” 

“I’ll bet,” Patton said, when Virgil was situated. “I heard you had quite a scare today.” 

Virgil’s cheeks suddenly felt hot, well aware of how pathetic everyone probably thought he was. “It was dumb.” 

“You and I both know it wasn’t,” Patton said and then paused, suddenly averting his gaze. “I heard what happened. And...we had to tell Janus and Remus. About why you reacted that way.” 

Virgil’s stomach churned, and he really hoped he wasn’t about to throw up. He’d already embarrassed himself enough for one day. 

“Ok,” he said, voice back to that small, shaking whisper. “What did they say?” 

Patton took his hand and squeezed, brown eyes big and pleading behind his glasses. “They feel horrible, Virgil. They really do.” 

His words loosened some of the panic in Virgil’s gut, but...but it didn’t get rid of it completely. “Ok.” 

“They didn’t know,” Patton added, like he could read Virgil’s mind. “We had to explain it to them. They were in the same boat we were.” 

“That’s...that’s good. I guess.” He hesitated, blinking down and Patton’s fingers intertwined with his own. “I...I guess I was worried things were going to go back. To...you know. How they were.” 

“I know, honey,” he said, and suddenly Patton was pulling him into a hug, the angle a bit awkward but warm and safe all the same, and Virgil melted into the embrace. “But it won’t. Not ever. Even if Remus and Janus wanted to- which they don’t- we wouldn’t let them.”

Patton pulled back before Virgil could say anything, reaching forward to cup the anxious side’s face, forcing him to meet his eyes. 

“We wouldn’t,” he said again. “We wouldn’t let them, Virge. You know that, right?” 

And it took every ounce of willpower Virgil had left not to burst into tears once again. Because he did. And he remembered Thomas saying something similar. 

“Yeah,” he choked out, chest loosening when Patton smiled. “I do, Pat. I know.” 

Patton’s smile only grew, and he leaned forward to give Virgil a quick kiss on the forehead, and for just a second everything in the world felt right. Peaceful. 

“I sent Thomas to bed a little while ago,” he explained, and it was only then that Virgil realized how dark the living room was. “He wanted to see you, but…” 

“He needs the rest,” Virgil said, knowing he’d probably done a number on Thomas’s anxiety. Great. “I didn’t mean to stress him out, I just...I wasn’t thinking.” 

“He’s not angry,” Patton assured. “None of us are. You panicked, and you went to someone you felt safe with. I’m proud of you.” 

Virgil had honestly expected to be reprimanded for the impulsive decision. Gently reprimanded, of course, because it was Patton, but told off all the same. His job was to keep Thomas safe and vigilant, not freak him out because of his own stupid panic attack. 

But he did feel safe with Thomas. Going to him had been nothing but instinct and desperation, and he’d helped. More than anyone else probably could have in that moment. 

He’d needed the reassurance, and Patton knew that. Thomas probably did too. He understood them better than he let on. 

“The others are still awake,” Patton continued when it became clear Virgil didn’t have an answer. “They’re...really worried about you, if you’re willing to see them. It can wait until morning if you’re--” 

“No.” Logically, he knew nobody was mad at him. He just...knew he wouldn’t get much rest until he saw it for himself. “No, I- I can see them now. It’s ok.” 

Patton smiled, clearly relieved, and sank out with promises to be back in just a few seconds. Virgil leaned back, breathing in the silence and pushing the blanket away as he leaned back against the cushions. 

True to his word, Patton was back in seconds, Roman and Logan rising up right behind him. Neither of them looked...great. 

He had no idea what time it was, but it was clear they’d all been up for a while, waiting to talk to him. Logan’s tie was askew, his shirt wrinkled, and Virgil vaguely remembered the logical side agreeing to take a short nap that afternoon. He hoped he hadn’t woken him up. 

Roman looked far worse, his sash gone, jacket undone and his hair (usually kept in perfect condition) an unkempt mess, like he’d been constantly running his fingers through it. 

Virgil didn’t think he’d ever seen the prince look so disheveled. He didn’t like knowing he was the reason behind it. 

Janus and Remus didn’t appear with them, and didn’t seem to be making any plans to. Virgil tried not to think too hard about that. 

Roman was already rushing forward before anyone could say anything, dropping to his knees in front of the couch. It was his usual dramatic grandeur, but there was real fear and regret behind the act. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, quieter than Virgil expected, and the anxious side quickly took the prince’s hands in his. “I should have- I tried to get to you but we- there was a stupid misunderstanding and I--” 

“I know, Roman.” There had been a moment of confused terror back in the kitchen, his panicked brain unable to understand why Roman wasn’t helping. “I think- Remus thought you were...you know…” 

“Janus and Remus believed that we were the ones who had been hurting you,” Logan said, and his voice sounded...strained. Hurt. “From their perspectives, keeping Roman away from you was the best course of action.” 

Virgil swallowed, suddenly realizing how much fear and confusion he must have caused everyone. “I- I’m so sorry, I think I told them...god, I didn’t mean to.” 

Roman pulled himself up on the couch and Virgil scooted over to give him room as the prince pulled him close, and he fell against his chest. 

“It’s quite alright,” Logan said, shoulders relaxing when Patton squeezed his hand. “It’s been straightened out. And of course, no one blames you for poor communication during a panic attack.” 

“It’s no one’s fault,” Patton jumped in. “It was just...a scary miscommunication. We all just wanted to help you, kiddo.” 

Virgil had no intention of pulling away from Roman, but he held out a hand for Logan to take and pulled the logical side onto the couch, Patton following behind. 

The angle wasn’t ideal, but they organized themselves into some kind of sloppy group hug, and to Virgil it was beyond perfect. For a moment he closed his eyes and listened to their breathing, their familiar presence on all sides. 

He was safe. He was, and he always would be. What happened for all those years was...it was wrong. He knew that now. And it wasn’t going to happen again. 

There was no reason for his chest to still feel so tight. 

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, wrapped up safely in each other’s silence, but a flash of movement from the doorway made Virgil pull back, the others reluctantly following. 

Janus stood in the light from the kitchen, looking like he’d just been about to sink back out, straightening abruptly when he realized all eyes had turned to him. 

“I apologize,” he said quickly, and Virgil didn’t think he’d ever heard him sound so uneasy. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back later.” 

“You’re fine,” Virgil said without even really considering it. “You can come in.” 

Janus hesitated, looking to the others for some kind of unspoken permission before making his way into the living room, all his movements eerily out of character. 

He smiled, still a few steps away from the couch, the gesture not quite meeting his eyes. “You seem to be feeling better.” 

Virgil wasn’t sure if that was a lie or not, but he shrugged all the same. “Yeah, I’m uh...I’m fine, I guess.” 

He felt that familiar, overwhelming need to apologize again, but he bit his tongue and pushed it away. Patton seemed to notice, sending him a small, proud smile. 

“I’d like to talk to you,” Janus said. “Alone, if you’re up for it.” 

The twist in his chest was back, tightening worse than before, but Virgil resolutely ignored it, digging his hands into the blanket and forcing himself to breathe. 

“You don’t have to, of course,” Janus said quickly, raising his gloved hands. “It’s been a long day. It can wait.” 

“I’m ok,” Virgil said, pushing past the rising anxiety, the doubt and old fears piling up. He owed Janus a chance. “We can talk. It’s fine.” 

Logan and Patton exchanged glances, and Roman was watching him skeptically, all of them oddly silent. 

“It’s ok,” he promised. “Seriously, guys. I’m fine, all of you need to go to bed. It’s late.” 

Patton sighed, flashing Janus a sympathetic smile before standing up from the couch, the others slowly following suit. 

“Both of you get some sleep when you’re done,” he said, before turning back to Virgil. “My door is open all night if you need me, honey. Don’t be afraid to come get me.” 

Virgil nodded, bid them all a quiet goodnight as they sank out, leaving him and Janus alone in the dimly lit living room. 

It took a moment, neither of them knowing quite what to say, but Virgil scooted aside and Janus sat on the other end of the couch, gloved hands folded neatly in his lap, staring straight ahead at nothing. 

For a traitorous second, Virgil expected to be hit. They were alone now, if Janus had been lying, now was the perfect time to punish him.

Janus took a breath, speaking so softly for a moment Virgil almost thought it wasn’t directed at him. “You used to be incredibly accident prone.” 

He blinked, risking a glance up at the other side, only able to see the scaled side of his face from where he sat. 

“You fell quite a lot,” he continued, and Virgil wondered if he was being insulted. “You always seemed to have...cuts or bruises somewhere. I remember I once caught you with a particularly nasty bruise below your eye. I don’t remember who it was- it was so long ago- but they said it was an accident. They brought you an ice pack.” 

Virgil swallowed, clasping his hands together, knowing exactly what Janus was referring to, despite the situation being identical to so many in the past. 

Janus finally turned to look at him, eyes filled with so much pain and regret, Virgil momentarily forgot how to breathe. “Those weren’t accidents, were they?” 

It wasn’t a question. Janus knew the answer. But Virgil shook his head regardless, stubbornly swallowing against the lump forming in his throat, the familiar stinging behind his eyes. 

“Oh Virgil,” Janus whispered, faint and broken. “Virgil, I’m so sorry . Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Virgil shrugged, blinking up at the ceiling to keep the tears at bay before answering. “I thought you knew. They said...they told me you would just do it too. I thought...I thought everyone knew.” 

Janus didn’t respond at first, still watching Virgil with someone unreadable in his eyes. And then, slowly, he began peeling off one of his gloves. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m telling you the truth,” Janus said. “I need you to believe me.” 

“You...you don’t have to do that.” Virgil’s voice broke, and he quickly wiped away a stray tear. “I trust you.” 

Janus just shook his head, removed his glove and set it aside, then carefully held up his now bare right hand. 

“Virgil,” he said. “Look at me.” 

Virgil obeyed, taking a shaky breath before glancing up to meet Janus’s eyes, forcing himself not to look away as he spoke. 

“Virgil,” he started, leaning in closer, voice low and almost desperate. “I didn’t know. I swear, Remus and I didn’t know. If we did- if we thought for a second that something like that was happening- we would have stopped it. Immediately.” 

And Virgil...somewhere behind the panic Virgil had known that. He hadn’t thought Janus had lied to the others, and he had certainly been more than eager to protect him when he’d thought Roman was a threat. 

But hearing him say it, the raw emotion he so rarely heard in the snake’s voice, the way he looked so desperate for Virgil to listen and believe his promise…

He was curling in on himself before he could even try to stop, a tiny hiccuping sob breaking free from his chest, fresh tears now freely streaming down his face. 

Janus put a hand on his back, another moving to cup the back of his head, slowly moving him forward until Virgil rested against his chest, gripping Janus’s sleeves. 

It wasn’t quite a hug, they weren’t ready for that just yet. But they’d get there. And right now, this...this was exactly what Virgil needed. 

“I’m sorry,” Janus said again, and Virgil could count on one hand the number of times he’d heard a genuine, heartfelt apology come from him. “I’m sorry, Virgil. I wish I’d put a stop to it a long time ago.” 

Virgil shrugged, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to avoid crying all over Janus’s clothes, desperately fighting back another sob. 

“I thought about telling you,” he managed, small and muffled. “So many times. You were- you were nice. You tolerated me, you...you were the only one.” 

Janus’s grip tightened, just for a moment. “I...hadn’t realized.” 

Virgil laughed at that, the sound humorless and dry. “They said you knew. They said...they- they said you’d hurt me too once I pissed you off. I was...shit, Janus I was so scared. I was always so fucking scared.” 

He heard Janus’s breath catch, felt him suddenly go very still and silent. 

“I thought you knew,” Virgil said again. “And then I- I learned that it wasn’t...normal. When you and Remus started showing up I was so...I thought you would make me go back. I thought it was going to happen again.” 

“I know.” Janus took a breath, pulling away slightly to look Virgil in the eyes. “But it won’t.” 

Virgil nodded, covering his hands with his sleeves and wiping at his soaked face. “I don’t...I still don’t get it. I don’t understand why they hated me so much.” 

“I don’t either.” Janus squeezed Virgil’s hand before reaching over to grab his glove. “I really don’t. But you’re safe now, and if they ever come anywhere near you again--”

“You’ll kill them, I know.” Virgil managed a smile, small but genuine all the same, pulling his hoodie tight around himself. “Get in line.” 

Janus matched his smile, both visibly relaxing, and Virgil realized the tight feeling in his chest had almost disappeared. It wasn’t gone entirely, not yet, but it was better. They would be ok. 

“Remus wants to...give you some space I think,” Janus said, and Virgil tried not to think too hard about what that meant. “Are you ok to be alone tonight? I can always stay.” 

“I’m fine. Really, I’m just...probably gonna head to bed.” Virgil knew full well he wasn’t going to try and get any more sleep, not unless he wanted a full night of reliving traumatic memories through vivid nightmares, but Janus didn’t need to know that. 

The snake hummed, slipping his yellow glove back on and standing up from the couch. Virgil hesitated, not wanting to risk falling on his face in front of anyone right now. 

“Well, I hope you get some rest,” Janus said, gradually starting to sound like himself again, but still genuine and warm. “I...hope you feel like you can come to me if you need anything. Just as long as you don’t wake me up before nine.” 

Virgil laughed as the other side sank out, chest loosening even more. He shut his eyes for a moment, silently counting out his own breathing, before pushing himself to his feet and sinking back out into the mindscape. 

He rose up in the common area with the intent of grabbing a snack and heading back to his room for the foreseeable future, but he quickly realized he wasn’t alone when there was movement and a flash of green on the couch. 

“Shit!” Remus shouted, then instantly looked like he regretted it when Virgil jumped. “Fuck- I mean, shit, sorry Virge, I’m leaving, I was just--” 

“It’s fine,” Virgil said quickly, hating...whatever side of Remus this was. He wasn’t supposed to be so careful and on edge. Ever. It went against everything he represented. “Seriously, it’s...it’s chill. I’m just grabbing some food.” 

He didn’t move and neither did Remus, both of them standing on opposite ends of the mindscape living room, neither quite willing to meet the other’s gaze. 

Remus spoke first, loud and sudden, but Virgil didn’t flinch. “I’m so fucking sorry , Virgil.”  

Virgil took a steadying breath, eyes on Remus’s shoes. He’d been expecting the apology, and it helped (it was much more welcome than the ridicule or contempt he was always half expecting), but there was only so much emotional turmoil he could go through in one night. 

“It’s ok,” he said. “You didn’t know.” 

“That’s why I’m sorry.” 

They fell silent again, and Virgil wondered if he should just give up and walk away as Remus plopped back down onto the couch. 

“How long?” the Duke asked suddenly, just as Virgil was actually starting to walk forward. “How long did they...you know. Do that?” 

He stopped, temporarily frozen at the question, forcefully pushing down memories fighting to come back to the surface. Later. He could think about it later. 

“Dunno,” he muttered, and it wasn’t a lie. “I can’t, uh...really remember when they didn’t.” 

Remus stood abruptly, face twisted in dark rage and disgust, and Virgil instinctively took a step back. 

“I’ll kill them,” he snarled. “I’ll kill them right now, I swear to god. They’re dead. Everyone who ever fucking touched you, Virgil. I’m killing them.” 

“No you’re not,” Virgil sighed. It was a nice thought, though. “You have no idea what that’ll do to Thomas.” 

“Then I’ll go beat the shit out of them!” He spun around to face the anxious side, and Virgil couldn’t help his nervous smile at the Duke’s eagerness. “Give them a taste of their own medicine, you know? Make them regret everything they ever did!” 

“Please don’t.” He hadn’t meant for it to come out so soft, but Remus quickly fell silent. “I just...I don’t want to risk it. I want them to just leave me alone.” 

“They’re never getting to you again,” Remus assured. “Ever. I’ll rip them to shreds if they even look at you! I’ll--” 

“I know. I know, Remus I just...want them to forget about me.” 

He’d never be able to forget about them, he knew that. He still woke up screaming at least once a month with their words echoing in his ears, cowering and expecting a blow from a faded memory. 

But he’d clearly meant so little to them. He’d been nothing. A walking punching bag. He was out of their reach now, safe and protected, so if there was nothing to remind them that he even existed…

They’d forget about him. They’d never think of him again. And Virgil could rest a little easier at the thought. 

And Remus, despite no doubt having many graphic plans to extract his revenge, seemed to understand, and he smiled. Not the toothy, playful grin they’d all gotten used to after a lewd joke, but a real, reassuring smile. 

Virgil briefly wondered how many people got to see that smile. He felt strangely honored. 

“No problem, Emo,” he said. “Just don’t expect me not to think about bashing their skulls in.” 

Virgil smiled, ducked his head, and disappeared into the kitchen. He reemerged a few moments later with a bowl of popcorn and plans to hide out in his room watching Youtube until he inevitably passed out. 

“It’s almost three,” Remus called as he passed, like either of them had healthy sleep schedules. “You planning on sleeping anytime soon?” 

 “Probably not. I think I’m just gonna watch stupid conspiracy videos or something until I’m too paranoid to sleep.” 

“Have fun with that, Virgey.” 

Virgil adjusted his hold on the popcorn bowl, and made it all the way to the bottom of the stairs before stopping, hesitating just a moment before turning around. 

“Do you want to like...join me?” 

There was genuine surprise on Remus’s face before something much more familiar took over, the Duke waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Join you?” 

“Jesus, ew.” Virgil was almost positive Remus could see his poorly concealed smile, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Come on, I just meant like...we haven’t really hung out together. And I don’t...really want to be alone.” 

The Duke’s expression softened, and he stood up from the couch to make his way over to the stairs, snagging a handful of popcorn as Virgil started up the steps. 

“Lead the way, Emo!” he sing-songed, probably loud enough to wake everyone in the mindscape, humming under his breath as he followed, and Virgil wondered if he would regret this by the morning. 

Somehow, he really doubted it. 

It wasn’t until his laptop was set up, Remus sprawled out at the end of his bed babbling away, that Virgil realized the tight feeling in his chest had finally faded completely.