let-me-be-a-fander-in-peace - Tumblr blog

let-me-be-a-fander-in-peace · 4 years ago

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Hey hey! here’s a little something I wrote for Eli a few months ago. They convinced me i should post it, so here i am lol

———

Tw: Descriptions of a Cold, sickness (non graphic), feelings unwanted, coughing, headaches, misunderstandings, hurt/comfort. Let me know if I need to add more!

Words: 5.2k

Pairing: Prinxiety (Written as Romantic but could be read as platonic i guess)

“Virgil is miserable. Its the middle of the night, and Virgil is stuck in bed, unable to sleep, with a horrible cold. The actual cold isn’t why he’s miserable, though.

Is it selfish to want to be cared for?”

—

Through Sickness and Health

Virgil could hear the clock on the opposite wall ticking just a tad too fast, and didn’t need to even look over at it to know it was way too late to be awake. Sure, he didn’t have the best sleep schedule, but at least he was usually enjoying himself when he stayed up, and it was rarely this late. It wasn’t even his fault this time.

But here Virgil was, laying in bed curled under all the blankets he owned, wishing he was dead. On paper, that sounds a lot worse than it really was, but who could blame him? The sweet release of death sounded like heaven compared to suffering here any longer. His throat was sandpaper dry, nose clogged with snot, and what felt like a small bomb went off in his skull with every movement.

That, though, wasn’t the main reason he was suffering.

He’d been sick before, he knew it would be over soon, but no physical pain could compare to the hurt he felt, knowing that the others knew of his illness, and didn’t give a single damn.

There was no way they didn’t know what was happening - even if he’d tried to hide it, which he hadn’t, it’s not like acting was ever his specialty - but not a single one of them had batted an eye since he came down with this stress induced cold.

Well, that wasn’t completely true. Patton had asked if he was feeling alright on day two, when Virgil had shuffled downstairs around three in the afternoon to grab a snack, hoodie flipped up as he dug around, his hands clearly shaky from fever yet he’d been too tired to try and hide it. He’d told Patton, in the least shaky voice he could muster, that he just wasn’t feeling very well.

In hindsight, it had probably been incredibly selfish of him to expect Patton to come to his aid and comfort him, maybe offer to tuck him in on the couch and make him something healthy to eat. He’d seen Patton do just that plus more when Logan or Roman were feeling under the weather after all. But despite knowing it was selfish, he couldn’t help the disappointment and sinking feeling he’d felt when Patton had simply responded with a gentle, almost pitying, “I’m sorry kiddo, thank you for telling me.” before walking away rather hurriedly, leaving it there.

The conversation rolled around in his head, as it had been for the past 5 days. Nobody had come to check on him, not even the resident fatherly side to see if he was feeling any better. He’d been downstairs one other time since that little exchange with Patton, but when he’d walked in on Roman and Logan talking casually in the living room, they’d both given him short, obviously forced smiles, and sunk out. That’d been on day three, and Virgil hadn’t gone back down there since. He wasn’t that hungry anyway.

Maybe they didn’t want to get sick? Or maybe they thought he was gross, and didn’t want to be near him. Did they think he would be rude to them?

All this thinking was making Virgil’s head hurt more. And it really didn’t matter the reason. They didn’t care, they clearly wanted to avoid him.

It hurt, worse than his actual sickness, having to stay away from everyone for days on end. It reminded him of the old days before he was accepted, when he wasn’t welcome anywhere else but the confinement of his room. He missed Patton’s warm greeting each time he walked into a room, or the rants Logan would get lost in that were strangely so calming. Most notably, though, he missed Roman.

He missed their stupid banter that always left him feeling more confident, and the never ending singing that Virgil pretended not to adore. Hell, he missed just talking to the creative side. He’d give anything just to have a conversation with him, just to lift his spirits a little. He longed for one of the warm, solid hugs that only Roman could give.

He would probably even give up his Disney posters, his entire MCR song library, or get banned from every Hot Topic in the country, just to be held and cuddled right at this moment. To be held in warm, secure arms, wrapped in the scent of cinnamon and roses, and drift to sleep knowing he wouldn’t be alone in the morning.

That last one had about a zero percent chance of happening, even if he wasn’t sick and contagious, but Virgil’s sleep deprived, fever ridden brain had decided to be sentimental, and Virgil couldn’t even stop it. At least he wasn’t gone enough to consider asking for any of that comfort he craved. it’d be easier for everyone to just wait in his room until he was better. Then maybe things would be normal again.

And that was his plan, until someone knocked on his door.

The anxious side’s gaze shot over to the clock, grimacing when the quick movement made his eyeballs throb. Who the Hell was knocking on his door at nearly 3:45 in the morning?

“Who-“ Virgil cringed at how his gravely voice broke, cleared his throat, then tried again. “Who is it?”

“I knew you were awake!” Romans voice, surprisingly enough, came from the other side of the door. He was clearly trying to stay quiet, but for some reason, he sounded really… relieved, and chipper. A second later, the Prince added a bit more bashfully, “Uh, unless i just woke you up by knocking, and if that’s the case I sincerely apologize, I didn’t mea-“

“No, I w’s already awake…” Virgil interrupted with a slight slur, groggy brain trying to keep up with what was happening. Being the embodiment of Anxiety, though, meant he didn’t get to stop being anxious just because he was sick. Why was he here? Was he angry? Virgil couldn’t recall doing anything that could offend anyone since he’d been self-quarantined, but then again, he couldn’t really remember his last name at the moment either. He mumbled to himself as he untangled his legs from the covers, cursing the universe under his breath because his head felt two times it’s normal size. Then he took a deep breath and sat up. He didn’t want to make Roman uncomfortable or grossed out seeing him all sick in bed, cause holy shit would that be embarrassing. He still didn’t look great, but it was a small step. “Come in Pr’ncey.”

The door swung open, revealing a timid, bed headed Roman, who seemed to relax a little when noticing Virgil sitting up in bed. “Hey there.. sorry to barge in, I hope i’m not bothering you.” he said, voice still lowered and really quite gentle as he shut the door behind him.

Virgil went to shake his head, but stopped himself before he could cause himself fucking brain damage and just shrugged instead. “ y’re not both’ring me. ‘sup?” yikes, all this sitting up and trying to look presentable business was making him realize how exhausted he was. His eyelids felt heavy already.

Roman took a few steps forward, keeping his eyes steadily on Virgil like he was waiting for him to keel over and die, or cough on him. It seemed pretty damn dramatic, even for Roman. “I… just wanted to check on you. I’ve uh, been a little worried about you, and i couldn’t sleep.” The Prince said, hesitant as he lowered himself on the foot of the bed.

Virgil blinked a few times, curling his legs up so his knees were to his chest to make sure Roman wouldn’t touch his feet under the 5 layers of blankets he had over him. Or maybe it was the sudden, treacherous hope that was rising in him, a hope he was trying to stifle. Roman was… worried about him? Roman of all sides? I mean, he wasn’t surprised that he cared, he and Roman were friends now after all. Virgil was just surprised he cared about this. He thought they were all in agreement to avoid him or something.

Virgil was about to open his mouth and say… something - he didn’t really know what he was going to say. It felt like his train of thought was chugging along through molasses - but he was interrupted before he could get any words out.

“Dude… no offense, but you look like actual death. And why in the name of Hades are you buried under so many blankets?” The Prince asked with what sounded like genuine confusion, at least for the second part.

Virgil huffed and pulled the blankets tighter around him, the movement causing him to shiver. He couldn’t decide what to focus on; The cold air on his back, the rising sensation of relief knowing Roman cared, or how weird that question had been. Quite honestly, Virgil wasn’t offended because he knew he looked like shit. he was just a little confused. He thought Roman would have known he’d look like shit. “What do you mean why do I have so many blankets. I literally feel like ’m freezing to death. ’s part of the package, shouldn’t you know this?” He practically deadpanned, not even for the snarkiness like usual. His speech was just dull.

But that only left Roman looking more confused, and probably a good deal more concerned if his expression was anything to go by. “I-... I didn’t know that, no.. I’m sorry. Do you want another blanket or something…?” he asked carefully, still awfully and almost painfully cautious.

And Virgil… was at a loss for how this could possibly be new information to Roman. it was pretty common knowledge even if you’ve never had a fever before. But instead of dwelling, Virgil once again stopped himself from shaking his head, sighing instead. “No, it won’ help.” he said shortly. The effort would be futile, but it was endearing that Roman at least asked. “Thanks though. That’s.. really nice of you t’ offer.” The anxious side offered a bit more quietly.

There was an awkward silence that followed, Roman shuffling his feet against the carpet slightly as he looked around the room. Virgil saw the other’s eyes catch on the pile of used tissues in the floor, another bout of confusion flashing in his bright green eyes, but he didn’t mention it this time. Maybe it was a lack of sleep making the Prince act so clueless at the moment. “I… I guess i’ve just.. i don’t know, everything is more boring without you around. Nobody to insult without actually offending them.” Roman spoke again after a moment, sending a half smile in Virgil’s direction.

A little smirk matched with a snort is what the Prince was rewarded with, Virgil's spirits lifted regardless of his misery. It felt nice knowing he was missed, and it made his chest warm knowing it was coming from Roman. For some reason, knowing he could make things more bearable for his counterpart was.. rewarding, in a way. And Roman looked proud of himself, before he continued a bit more solemnly. “You’ve been cooped up in here for so long, like what, 5 says now?”

That got Virgil to sigh, and maybe there was some defensiveness laying beneath the surface, made worse thanks to being miserable, but all he managed was a mildly annoyed side eye to Roman as he responded in a mumble, still doing his best not to run Roman off. “‘t’s not my fault.”

Roman was quick to shake his head, slight guilt in his expression. “I know! I-I’m not trying to make you feel bad, i guess i just- i don’t know, i’m just talking out loud… sorry.” Roman’s voice had quieted, eyes trained on the floor somewhat shamefully as he seemed to search for his words. “I just.. I just wish…” but once again, he trailed off, shaking his head and seeming to give up. “I’m sorry.”

“‘s fine, Princey.” Virgil mumbled back, eyes dropping to his lap where he picked at a loose string on his bedspread. Another silence followed, Virgil trying to sniffle as silently as he could. Despite how weird this interaction had been so far, and how slightly awkward it’s gotten, Virgil was honestly just trying to soak in the mere presence of another side while it lasted. He’d never liked being alone for so long. His stomach was starting to hurt for a reason aside from sickness. This sure was a good way to get Roman to leave early, the others were probably right for leaving him alone so far.

Suddenly, Virgil squeezed the blankets in his fist to try and stop a sudden tickle in his throat, the sensation coming out of nowhere. Unfortunately though, his instincts won out just seconds later as he was forced to cough, the sound gargled and gross even when he covered the whole bottom half of his face with his covers. Dammit, dammit, stupid fucking cough. And Roman just got there too. He wasn’t ready for the creative side to leave again yet.

“S- Sorry, sorry ‘bout that. Shit.” He mumbled rather quickly, hoping to by just a few minutes longer of the creative side’s company before it was taken away again for who knows how long. His head felt like it was being split open, no thanks to the effort it took to cough. Who the Hell’s idea was sickness? They should be fired.

Much to his surprise though, when Virgil hesitantly looked up to gauge how put off Roman was by his display, he only saw an overwhelming about of worry, but even more importantly, alarm.

“Apologies, but is this like- normal??” Roman asked with eyes noticeably wider, studying Virgil's pained expression, hunched over posture, the mess of dirty tissues around, and the way the bright numbers of his digital clock on his nightstand was covered carefully, with a washcloth no doubt.

Virgil drew in a deep, slow breath through his nose as he rubbed on his temples to try and alleviate some pain, eyes closed and head tilted down. Roman’s ridiculous questions were just making his headache worse, and honestly he didn’t even understand how the Hell he was so confused. Was this his plan? To come in here and confuse Virgil and his already incapacitated brain? ‘Cause if so, he was doing a brilliant job. “Roman, what the hell are you talking about.”

It came out less like a question, more like a very tired statement, but he was answered with confused stammering, Roman gesturing almost desperately to Virgil and his state. “What do you mean what am I talking about?? Dude, you’re clearly not doing well. I mean, I wasn’t gonna bring it up, but you’re sweating like a sinner in church, you’re covered in a thousand blankets, you were just hacking up a lung and you’re barely able to speak right from, what i’m assuming, is a nose full of mucus!”

“Yeah, okay, I get it. I look like shit, Pr’ncey, enough said.” Virgil snapped, glaring up at Roman and accidentally moving his head up to look at him too fast, sending a flare of agony through his skull. He cursed under his breath and winced, but powered through it even as Roman lifted a hand to- to what, help? It didn’t matter, Virgil moved away from the effort. “No, don’t touch me, alright? I don’t wan’ your pity.”

Virgil knew all of this was coming out more aggressive than he ever would allow if he was feeling himself. Hell, even now he was begging himself to just shut up and stay calm. But after almost 2 full days with no sleep, and 5 days of nonstop pain, coughing, being unable to breath properly, the feeling of fire in his throat every time he tried to eat, and then on top of that, being shunned by the 3 people he wanted- needed, more than anything. Well, he really couldn’t stop his composure from cracking and shattering.

Roman looked ready to respond, seemingly struck with more pity than before, but Virgil’s hand shot up to stop him. “I don’t want to hear it, Princey. Why the Hell are you even here anyway? If you’ve missed me so much, why did you wait 5 f’cking days to come see me? T’ come ‘check on me’? And, by th’ way, so far you’ve really only been fucking with me and making me feel worse, so in reality it probably would ‘ve been better had you just kept up your streak of avoiding me like ev’ryone else!”

Virgil was breathing heavily, head pounding and lungs burning after raising his voice just a bit too much at the end of his rant. He replayed the words back in his mind, heart sinking when he realized how aggressive he’d gotten. He couldn’t slow down his breathing, why couldn’t he slow his breathing?? Jesus christ, he wasn’t about to break down on top of all that other shit he just unleashed. Perfect, he was just proving the other side’s point for them.

With his body now starting to shake, jaw clenched to hold back tears because this week has been bullshit, and he felt like curling up and disappearing, if not to escape his aching body then to at least escape the anger he knew would result from that whole verbal meltdown he just had. Obviously Roman would be leaving, but would he yell first? Tell him how annoying and selfish he was, and how he didn’t get to be a huge asshole just because he was feeling a little under the weather? Or would he leave in silence, just exit the room with that silent, cold anger that Roman only showed when he was really upset.

Maybe he’d tell everyone else what happened, how he’d tried to extend an olive branch, test it out just to see if maybe his illness hadn’t made him into a pathetic prick, but Virgil lashed out as expected and ran him off. Would Logan and Patton get mad at him too? Come in and tell him off for being so horrible to his own family, that he couldn’t even be a decent person for 5 minutes.

Maybe things wouldn’t go back to normal even after he’s recovered, all because he couldn’t just control himself.

“Virgil, what are you talking about?” Roman asked exasperated, and Virgil dragged his hands down his face. He meant to make more of a growl in frustration, but it came out closer to a pained whine. His eyes stung for a new reason now. He just wanted this to stop. Why wouldn’t Roman just stop?

“What. What am I talking about what. I can’t do this- this whole vague shit righ’now, jus’ spit it out.” He hated how short tempered he was sounding, but Roman didn’t seem to be fazed. Virgil could see the Prince waving his hands around in his peripheral, looking tongue tied.

“The- The part where you think i’m fucking with you?? Why you think we’re avoiding you?? Why you’re so-... so….” Roman trailed off, a look of realization crossing his face, which quickly turned to horror and guilt. “Wait a… w-wait a second, Virgil, are you- are you sick??”

To say Roman sounded appalled would be an understatement, his eyes wide in shock, brows drawn, mouth slightly agape. Virgil’s head spun, suddenly dizzy as his brain tried to figure out why Roman sounded so horrified- why he sounded so surprised. He couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t understand what was going on. He felt nauseous and he just wanted to sleep. Before he knew it, tears were trekking down his face, thick tears springing from his eyes making the pressure behind them even more unbearable. A sob tore painfully from his throat, instantly catching the Prince’s full attention.

“Oh my… Virgil-“

Virgil shrunk away from the Prince’s voice, curling up once more into a ball, trying to hide from everything. His lip wobbled, he could feel it, but he was too tired to be embarrassed or feel pathetic. He pulled the covers closer around him. “R-Roman, please jus’-“ He hiccuped on a sob, hissed through his teeth as the action sent a sharp pain through his lungs. “I don’ know i-if you’re tryin’ to joke ‘r somethin’, but— but ’s n- not funny, o-okay?”

Instead of speaking clearly at a normal volume, Virgil was nearly mumbling the entire time he was speaking, slurring through words even worse than when the conversation started. Was it just him, or was the room spinning? “Please, i… i need you t’...” Virgil huffed for breath, exhaustion wearing on him like a switch was just suddenly flipped. It nearly took all his energy to try and get a deep breath.

“Ro…”

Virgil was met with a warm, broad chest, and strong arms wrapping around him before he even knew he was slumping forward. His ears were ringing, drowning out what sounded like a familiar voice speaking to him. They sounded distressed, he hoped they were okay. What was combing through his hair? He couldn’t quite remember what was going on before then, but all he knew was, he was safe now.

Then, the world went dark.

———

Virgil came into consciousness a little while later, his brain the kind of blissfully empty that only comes after passing out, apparently. He couldn’t grasp where he was before, existing in a reality where there is no past for a few moments. His head was vaguely aching, like a dull throb faded into the background, and his lungs stung only a little when he breathed in deeply. In his sleepy state though, Virgil didn’t concern himself with those feelings.

Virgil couldn’t see anything, he noticed not long after, but he could hear murmuring and the distant sound of water running.

Next, he realized he knew he wasn’t in his own room anymore, both because this wasn’t his mattress, and the room didn’t smell like his own.

He could smell.. cinnamon… and peaches… and ink. Somewhere in his groggy brain, Virgil recognized the smell, but at the moment it was just out of his reach. It didn’t bother him, though, not when he was so relaxed and calm. He felt like he was one with the bed, and the soft, fluffy sheets encasing him.

A few more seconds of coming to, and Virgil realized his eyes were covered with something damp, and cool… soft too. It felt amazing against his warm skin. oh right, i’m sick, a thought entered his mind gently.

Then, a lot less gently, the events from before he passed out rushed to the forefront of his mind, practically smacking him in the face. Because yes, he’d passed out, right in front of Roman like an idiot, oh shit, why isn’t he in his room, where is he-

“Virgil? Hey woah, calm down buddy- here,” Virgil heard someone quickly cross the room, and tended his body for all of two seconds before the washcloth over his eyes was being lifted.

Virgil blinked blearily, squinting his eyes even though the room was almost completely shrouded in darkness, save for a thin line of light coming from the cracked bathroom door. Someone was sat beside him on the side of the bed, but he was too blurry for Virgil to make out details.

“There you are. Hey Hot Topic, how are you feeling?” the person asked, speaking more gently than anyone had spoken to Virgil in a long time. Strangely though, Virgil wasn’t upset by it. It was.. nice…

Wait a minute, he knew that voice.

“R- Roman..? I.. Where…?” Distantly, Virgil knew he sounded like shit, which meant he probably looked like shit, and directly after asking that half assed question, he realized he had to be in the Princes room. “Oh.. fuckin’- I passed out on you..” he groaned, moving his hands up to scrub the blurriness from his eyes.

It worked, surprisingly, and now that Virgil could see, he realized that yes, Roman was the one sitting next to him, and yes he was in Roman’s room, in Roman’s bed. He also noticed how tossed Roman’s hair was, and the bright red with little snowmen pajamas the Prince wore. They were really adorable.

“Yes, I’m afraid you did.. and I’m also afraid that I am partly to blame for it.” Roman sighed, casting his eyes down as he pressed his lips in a line.

Virgil’s brows drew together, and, because he was so delirious, he reached out to grab gently at Romans sleeve. “How is it your fault that I passed out?” he asked incredulously. At least he could speak properly now. Now? Now since when? Oh geez, “Wait how long have I been out? A few hours? Days? Years?! Did I fall into a coma?!”

The corner of Roman’s lip lifted in amusement, and he gently lay a hand over Virgil’s, on his sleeve. “No, no nothing like that, Dark Knight. It’s only been an hour or so. I.. hope you don’t mind, but I had to bring you in here. Your fever was… really high.” The Prince of Creativity said, solemn by the end.

“I think i’ve managed to get it down, so it’s not so dangerous anymore, but Logan will definitely have to keep an eye on it today.”

That got Virgil's attention. “Wait- Logan? Uh.. yeah, not to burst your bubble Princey, but I doubt that’ll be happening.” There was a slight bitterness to his tone as he wrapped his free arm around his midsection, and though there wasn’t as much bitterness as there usually would be, Roman still picked up on it loud and clear.

He inclined his head, as if in agreement, and Virgil stomach only sunk a little bit before Roman was speaking again.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Virgil. You see, there seems to have been a grave misunderstanding. This is how I’m partially responsible for your passing out, same as Logan and Patton are also partly to blame.”

Virgil’s eyes widened, breath hitching at the sheer ridiculousness of that suggestion. No!! How could it be their fault? He’s the one that got so sick and couldn’t keep himself healthy enough not to fucking pass out. He opened his mouth to say as much, but Roman held up a finger before he could get out a single word, silencing him.

“A few days ago, 5 to be exact, it came to Patton’s attention that you weren’t feeling yourself. He told me and Logan that you told him you weren’t feeling very well, and that we should all give you some space the next few days.” Roman said carefully. Ah yes, that conversation. The one that’s haunted Virgil for nearly a week. Virgil remembered it well.

With a hesitant, still very lost nod from Virgil, Roman continued. “It seems that Patton, and in turn, Logan and I, assumed that your strange behavior was linked to.. well, anxiety.” He gave Virgil’s hand a light squeeze, any sign of a smile gone and replaced with pained regret. The Prince swallowed, just as Virgil pieced it together.

“Because of these more stressful times Thomas is experiencing, we wrongly thought that you were having a rough week, leading to worse anxiety. So… we’ve been leaving you on your own, thinking we were helping you..”

Virgil.. didn’t know what to say. He looked up and found Roman’s red, sorrowful eyes. When he focused, he could see they were just a little bit bloodshot, even in the dark. Proof that he had previously cried, no doubt about this. When Virgil didn’t speak, still too shocked as his slowed brain processes this, Roman continued, quietly choking back a sob just after he averted his gaze to the floor.

“V-Virgil-“ he voice cracked. Virgil’s heart was sinking in his chest. Roman had never looked so heartbroken. “Virgil I’m so sorry, I had no idea you were sick, none of us did! I-I swear I didn’t know, I would have never left you alone if I had, Virgil, Star, i’m so so s-sorry,”

Roman was practically full on crying by that point, though he clearly tried to keep it to himself and stay quiet. Virgil was grateful for the effort, but there were much more important things to focus on at the moment. He may not be completely himself, but he still couldn’t let Roman be so sad.

It was because he wasn’t completely himself that Virgil automatically sat up (taking his time to do so, trying not to upset his head), and leaned himself right against Roman, chest to chest, looping his arms around to loosely hold Princey in a hug.

It all made sense now, why he’d been ignored all week, and why nobody came to check on him or try to help. He felt a little (read: a lot) stupid for thinking that anyone in his famILY would do anything but show him the upmost care and attention when he needed it. They thought they were helping, and honestly, had he in fact been having a bad week of heightened anxiety, giving him space would have been the right thing for them to do.

Roman was quick to return Virgil’s hug, though to his credit, his hug was a lot stronger and more secure than Virgil’s. He buried his face in Virgil’s hair, a steady stream of teary apologies spilling from him. A steady stream that Virgil hastily tried to end.

“Roman, it’s okay… i’m not upset, I promise it’s okay. I know you were doing what you thought would help me. Please don’t cry, Princey.” He said softly.

It might have been a few more minutes, or a few hours, that the two sides sat together in each other’s arms. Roman’s cries and apologies slowly quieted to a stop, though the gentle combing of fingers through Virgil’s hair only continued as they sat.

“Hey… Roman?” Virgil whispered after a few more moments, the whole mindscape quiet, save for the quiet sniffles from both Virgil and Roman every once in a while.

“Yes, sweet Midnight?” came an equally gentle response. Neither side moved, Virgil too content with his face snuggly buried against his counterpart’s shoulder, and Roman too content with having Anxiety safe in his arms.

“Would… well, you can say no, but would you mind.. if I stay in here..? I don’t… really want to be alone…” a hint of Virgil’s usual anxious tendencies showed itself despite the tiredness that was starting to cover the darker side. Instead of head-swimming exhaustion though, this time Virgil felt pleasantly heavy and relaxed.

Without uttering another word, Roman pulled them both down to lay their heads on the pillows, lifting one hand to gently flick his wrist and manipulate the covers around them. The light in the bathroom turned off with a soft click of Roman’s fingers, one that Virgil hardly registered as he shuffled somehow closer to the Prince, still tucked safely in his arms.

As he fell softly and smoothly into the first restful sleep he’s had in days, Virgil noticed that he wasn’t freezing cold anymore. The dull throb in his head had gone away almost entirely, and it felt that much easier to breathe. But most importantly, Virgil felt less alone than he had in a long, long time.

Needless to say, Virgil was feeling better already.

249 notes · View notes

let-me-be-a-fander-in-peace · 4 years ago

Note

What is Ro thinking right now? -𓆙

Virgil had just gotten done brushing his hair when they heard the commotion outside the Manor.

Ainsliee squeaks in surprise. She turns to Virgil, boiling over with excitement, gleefully translating the message he had already guessed;

“Daddy’s back! He’s calling for us!!”

She grins and rushes over to Virgil, pulling his wrist and dragging him up from his seat. Virgil huffs in annoyance — not at her, of course, but at the bear’s continued barking — and waves his hand,

“Go on to him, then. But be careful, he’s still dangerous!”

Without a word of response, Annie dashes away. He doesn’t even think she was listening.

Virgil sighs, shaking his head. He trusts the Beast spirit not to hurt her, even with it’s unreasonable strength; After how careful the bear had been with him about an hour before, there’s no way he won’t show the same gentleness with his own cub…

The more cautious parts of Virgil can still imagine her rushing him too quickly and getting crushed on accident, though, so he knows he can’t linger long.

Virgil stands up to get dressed, still not excited to see his friends again. His stomach churns at the possibilities as he meanders towards a closet, silently hoping Lolth would just strike him down right now so he wouldn’t have to talk to them.

He just knows they’ll be angry, he feels it in his bones — and even if they aren’t, it will certainly be awkward, and that’s just as bad!

(Better to be the first to anger, so you might lead the conversation, Virgil reminds himself as he wallows in dread. He won’t even have to fake his ire if any of them come back injured, which he already knows is unavoidable. Aside from his desire to keep them all unharmed, he really doesn’t want to be owing any more favors…)

(And even more besides, if he could be petty, Virgil doesn’t want to go back outside. It’s cold and windy tonight, his hair is still damp, his limbs are still sore, his mom has his armor, and he doesn't want to put clothes back on, damnit.)

Another resounding roar thunders through the night air, and then Virgil feels the entire tree-tower tremble with vibrations.

Fully realizing that this dire bear is willing to climb the place and rip it open to find him, Virgil grabs the nearest warm-looking robe. He hastily slips it on over his bandages (and quiver belt, which he had already been wearing) as he makes his way out of the Manor.

~~~

Logan watches Roman pace back and forth around the trees, in front of the spiraling stairway that leads up into the complex. He’s been incessantly huffing and stomping around like a petulant child, and Logan has no idea what to say to make him stop; He's been trying ever since the city was in sight.

Janus and Remus are very pointedly not helping, with Janus giving Logan a meaner side-eye the longer the wailing continues, and Remus yelling back at Roman for no other reason than to join in being loud.

Patton has less fear of the gigantic, angry animal, approaching the groaning beast and patting a hand on his paw,

“Aww, c’mon now, Roman. We just got here! Give them a minute to come down,” Patton soothes in a soft voice, “Not everyone is as fast as a giant bear!”

Roman looks down at him, acknowledging his presence, but he either didn’t understand Patton’s words or wholeheartedly doesn’t care. He softly shakes his paw to scoot Patton away, then rears up on his back legs, raises his arms, then lurches all of his body weight forward and slams into the trunk of the massive tree.

It doesn’t visibly shudder at his attack — even at his size, these great home-trees of the Faewild are many times wider around than a direbear, and won’t be knocked down so easily — but the intent is clear, and Logan worries someone as sensitive to vibrations as Virgil would be quite frightened. So, Logan quickly steps in, using a more stern tone this time (and his Universal Speech,)

“That’s enough! You are being impatient,” Logan scolds, “They will come down soon enough. One of them is injured. They can take their time if they wish to.”

An angry whine interrupts his last few words, but still, Roman backs away from the complex. He keeps growling and barking, but at least he’s not trying to break the damn thing down.

Right on queue, a little blue girl comes flying down the stairs like a missile, grinning wildly.

Logan sighs in relief, happy to see her in good spirits after how they had left off. Roman seems to feel the same, finally quieting down his complaints. He drops his head down to meet her when she approaches, sniffing her as she reaches up to hug his muzzle. She squeezes him as best she can from there, giggling when he pushes down a little to nuzzle her.

Practically tripping over herself with energy, Annie quickly pops up to bowl Patton over in a hug as well, giving Logan a wide grin over his shoulder as Patton squishes her close to his chest. Logan couldn’t suppress a smile in return, even if he wanted to.

Virgil appears at the staircase then, looking comically ethereal. His long, re-dyed hair and wide-sleeved elven robe blow in the wind, his expression soft and quietly observant; He looks much more like the picture of a dark-elven noble you would find in a storybook than the grizzled soldier they’ve been travelling with. Even his eyes have changed color, with his sclera turned black and his pupils reflecting pale moonlight.

Virgil spots Patton and Annie embracing, and relaxes at the sight of them. Then he turns his gaze on the rest of the team, and his usual scowl returns, eyes glowing red to match. Logan is almost comforted by the familiarity.

“Olath ilhar, You’re hurt!” Virgil growls, rushing down to meet them.

Logan grumbles to himself over the hypocrisy of that statement, looking over the bandages absolutely covering Virgil’s arms, legs and abdomen.

Roman shuffles his weight on his paws when he sees Virgil approach, but Virgil holds a hand out to him, scolding,

“Oh don’t you even start! You will sit and wait your turn!”

To Logan’s amazement, Roman whines and sits down on the grass, looking thoroughly reprimanded.

(Well that is just not fair.)

Virgil looks over each of them in turn, searching for wounds. He circles Patton first, alarmed by the bandages across his middle. The careful prodding of his hands remains in stark contrast to the snarl in his voice,

“I wouldn’t have let you go if I knew you were going to be so reckless!”

“You hardly let us go at all. And, only two of us are injured.” Logan corrects as if he can’t help it, not taking Virgil’s returning glare so seriously.

“Three of you! Roman is barely standing. And that’s more than half of your party, yutrit'zarreth!” Virgil hisses back. He moves over to Logan and stalks around him, searching him as well.

“I’m fine, Virgil, I didn’t even get near the battle.” Logan protests, shrugging off Virgil’s patchwork cloak in order to return it.

Virgil bares his teeth, still unconvinced. Logan sighs and sits through his examination, though he can’t help but complain to himself about how unfair Virgil is being.

Reminding himself of Virgil’s wounds, Logan uses their proximity to examine his bandages. They seem fairly well-wrapped, but it’s clear he hasn’t had any magical healing since they saw him last, and the bags under his eyes are dark even for Virgil. Every day it seems Virgil is stretching the limits of what levels of pain a person can ignore — by all accounts, he shouldn’t be conscious right now, much less standing.

The last few battles, Logan had tried not to think too much about why Virgil does this, and even less about how he became able to. But, at this point, it’s become obvious that he has a very serious problem. Logan’s going to have to do something if he doesn’t want Virgil to drive himself into the grave...

While he lets himself worry, Logan also notices the belt of Virgil’s quiver is strapped right over his bandages.

“Are you wearing that against your bare skin?” Logan scolds before he can stop himself, “What about the wound on your back?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Virgil grumbles, though bringing it up seems to have scared him off. He snatches his cloak from Logan’s hands, pulling it in under his robe and fastening it so it lies between the robe and his skin, then slinks away, glowering. Logan can’t help but think he’s misstepped, somehow.

Virgil has already moved on to look over Janus, who also tries to shoos the archer away, insisting he’s unharmed. Virgil hisses at him, too, but quickly moves on to Remus anyway.

“Get inside and rest, all of you!” Virgil orders as he prowls around him, examining the bruises on his sides and back with gentle touches, “We’ve already lost too much travel time as it is, at this rate we’ll never make it to the Capital.”

“What about Roman? I doubt he can fit inside, are we just going to leave him out here??” Patton whines. Virgil snaps a short, sharp laugh and glares at the bear,

“Yeah, for all I care.”

Roman groans at him, and Virgil snaps something back in Drowic. Logan doesn’t know if he can actually understand Virgil’s words or just the tone in which he’s saying them, but Roman is certainly respecting his orders more than he did Logan’s.

(Logan quickly reminds himself that Virgil had once claimed to be a Ranger, and answers his own questions on the matter.)

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Logan advises carefully, taking note of Virgil’s mood. He keeps his tone as soothing as possible as he explains,

“This is his first time shifting, we should stay to make sure he doesn’t do anything reckless. Besides, specifically as a bear, he will grow distressed if we leave his sight.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to study him.” Janus supplies unhelpfully, apparently living to annoy him. Virgil doesn’t respond, though, and Logan can tell that his reasoning got through to him.

Remus rolls his eyes, quickly growing bored of their debate,

“Well, I’m certainly staying with Brother Bear over here, and the three of us have a long overdue heart-to-heart scheduled for, ehhh, right about now~!”

Virgil pretends not to hear him while he studies the bruise on Remus’s back. Remus frowns at being ignored, turning on his heel and grabbing Virgil’s shoulders to stop him in his tracks,

“Let’s have a little chat~! You aren’t getting out of this, slick.”

Virgil glares holes into Remus’s chest, then turns away from him, hissing his discomfort the entire way. Janus looks similarly displeased, leveling an unfriendly look at Remus before taking his hand and following along.

Logan and Patton follow the three of them, Annie holding Patton’s hand and instructing Roman to follow behind.

Virgil leads them to a vacated barn, instructing Roman to lie down and wait. Annie nestles in next to his side, and Logan and Patton join her, watching Virgil lead Remus and Janus back out. Virgil keeps himself several paces ahead of them, looking like he might lose his nerve and bolt at any minute.

Logan and Patton share an uneasy look, only able to speculate about what happened between Virgil and the odd duo…

Janus doesn’t say a word, worried about getting himself in trouble before they even start the conversation. Virgil already seems tense, and Janus doesn’t ignore the way he positions himself closer to the Manor complex than to the barn.

Once he’s satisfied they’re far enough away that Logan can’t eavesdrop, he very rigidly turns to face his two old friends, waiting for someone else to start.

Janus and Virgil just glare in each other’s directions, both refusing to be the first to get vulnerable. (At least Virgil’s eyes are glowing faintly red, so Janus knows where they’re pointed, and where the hell Virgil is.)

Remus stands with his hands on his hips and glances between them impassively, knowing it’s only a matter of time until one of them cracks.

Despising the awkward silence more than anything else, Janus finally smirks,

“Well, you look terrible.”

“What are you doing here?” Virgil growls, shifting his gaze between the two. He still hasn’t looked either of them in the eye, just glaring at the grass by their feet like it’s done something to offend him; something it took many years to get Virgil to stop doing.

“Oh, you know I just love the Faewild,” Janus grumbles, folding his arms defensively, “But, this time, I must confess we were mainly looking for you.”

“Why?” Virgil growls even lower, his eyes turning even brighter red. Janus rolls his eyes at the aggressive display, 80% certain Virgil is simulating it this time.

“What do you mean ‘why?’” Janus scoffs, quickly growing annoyed, “It’s been so long, I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost!”

Janus expected the cold reception, of course, but he’s never exactly been lauded for his temper. Remus steps in, knowing a spat is imminent if he doesn’t. He chuckles,

“You fucked off in quite a rush, but you did say you were coming home eventually.”

Virgil’s jaw drops.

He quickly shakes himself out of it and resumes his defensive posture, but the damage was done; The same shocked look spreads to the other two. The three just stare each other down, all of them growing more confused by the minute.

Virgil breaks first, looking away at a suddenly very interesting rock as he mumbles,

“…You expected me to come back?”

Janus can immediately read the implication under the words; the question Virgil is afraid to ask. He feels his chest constrict a little at the thought, too winded to keep up his usual snark. In all of the visions he had seen to prepare for this moment, Virgil had never reacted like this. Usually he ran, and often he was angry at them or scared of them, but never…dejected.

“Darling, of course! How could you assume anything else?”

“I don’t know,” Virgil huffs, shoulders raising up to his ears, “Maybe it was the huge fucking fight we had seconds before I ran off for two fucking years— Aren’t you mad?!”

“No!” Janus and Remus shout at the same time, with varying levels of surprise and distress. Virgil’s still on the offensive, glaring at them.

“Fuck off! I almost took your whole arm off, and then you leased that dweomer, and Remus lost it—”

“That’s not the first time we each went a little crazy, Virgil.” Janus shakes his head, subtly motioning down to his ankle,

“That’s part of the reason we’ve stuck together for so long, remember?”

Virgil smiles a little at the reference, an inside joke between the three of them he thankfully hasn’t forgotten. Still, he seems reluctant.

He turns a bit towards them now, though he’s started picking at his nails, like he does when he’s really nervous. His eyes are wide and startled, but he still won’t look up,

“That time was… different. Something happened. I think I…” He shakes his head, steadying his voice before he continues,

“No, I know it this time. I’m not going crazy, something cursed me in that cave! All I remember is us knocking over some altar with a crystal on it, and now I can do magic on the surface?! And I got all paranoid about every little move, and I tried to run off for good!”

“It wasn’t a curse. At least, I don’t think so.” Janus sighs, looking down at his hand, which is now covered in dragon-like scales under his glove. “And it wasn’t just you, either.”

Remus grins, focusing on drawing forward that strange energy he now houses. He holds out his hand, letting Virgil watch as he conjures the usual smoke effects he’s always been able to summon, now along with some unusual yellow lightning flashing within.

“Me and Deedee also got some cool new powers~! And some other weird stuff, too!”

Virgil slowly creeps forward to get a better look, still apparently deciding whether he should be afraid or angry. Very slowly, he reaches up and lays one of his hands on Remus’s, then raises the other. Janus and Remus watch as Virgil’s eyes glow blue, and a cluster of lightning grows out of his skin, dancing around his fingers. A moment later, both magic effects fizzle out with a sharp crackling sound.

“Where did you learn that?” Janus hums, mildly impressed, though he already knows the answer. Virgil shrugs, looking back towards the barn,

“Logan’s been teaching me how to control it. I’m still not great at it yet, but I haven’t accidentally killed anyone in several days.” Virgil sighs. He looks around at his friends, finally looking them in the eyes, though he still looks a bit like a frightened animal. Slowly, he adds,

“I still don’t know how I feel about this,” He admits, then sends a short glance at Remus, “But, you and your brother have to do something together in town, right? So… We’re all going in the same direction, anyway.”

“And you’re set on these new guys?” Janus sighs, trying not to sound disappointed. Virgil shrugs.

“I don’t think I can leave them yet. I’m making progress, but I still need Logan’s help…” Virgil looks back at the barn, an annoyed grumble returning to his tone,

“And, these three are kind of pathetic. I really don’t think they’ll make it in one piece without us, anyway.”

Janus chuckles in agreement, not at all surprised. Remus flips his hair with a smile,

“Oh, so there’s an ‘us’ now~?”

Before Virgil can even blush at the slip, Remus is laughing again,

“Well then, it can’t be helped~ Looks like the three of us are coming with them!”

“Of course.” Janus nods, “As much as it pains me to waste my time with such irksome people, it would be convenient for us to travel together. And, according to Logan, you need a sorcerer’s help with the whole ‘training’ thing.”

(Janus avoids adding a snarky remark about how “that also proves that you never should have left to begin with,” though it is difficult.)

“I’d rather it be you then some other high class know-it-all I haven’t met. One is enough.” Virgil admits, though he can’t resist rolling his eyes at Janus’s snark.

Now, a bit of a smirk has returned to Virgil’s face. He looks between the two again, blushing slightly and fiddling with his hands again to distract from his brain. Virgil himself is unsure whether he’s more afraid or hopeful. Not that he would ever admit to the latter.

“So… you really aren’t mad?”

“No, dear. If any of us have a right to be, it’s you.” Janus sighs. Virgil whines in complaint,

“But— Two years is a long time for you, you can’t just let me get away with that!”

“I was busy with something, anyway, so it’s no big deal~” Janus sighs, not quite willing to admit to himself whether or not it’s a lie. To silence Virgil’s arguing he holds one hand out to Virgil, and focuses on melting away just that little section of his glamour.

Green and yellow scales are revealed all along his hand and wrist, and Virgil gasps for a moment, reaching over to touch them. The look he gives Janus then is devastating, the last of the fear easing out of his shoulders as the memory of that night washes over him.

“This is what I was scared of?” Virgil frowns, sounding more than a little disappointed in himself, “Your scales are spreading?”

“There’s much more to it than that,” Janus quickly corrects him, letting the phrase carry a lot of weight for him, “But we can get into that when you’re awake enough to process a more detailed conversation.”

“I thought you were just born with them. Are you supposed to grow more?”

“No, I’m not. Like Remus said, you aren’t the only one who was affected.” Janus shrugs, “We both have physical mutations, though not quite like your scars. Remus already mentioned what happened to his wings, didn’t he?”

Virgil turns to him expectantly. Remus holds his hands behind his back and grins,

“Ooooh no, I’m saving that surprise for something special. After all, now Roman’s here to see ‘em too, and you know I can’t resist dramatic timing~”

“Before you keep insisting you’re too dangerous to congregate around,” Janus muses lightly before Virgil can say another word, “You’re not the only one with new temporal magic.”

Janus takes a tiny amount of pleasure in the momentary horror on Virgil’s face. As a treat.

“Oh, don’t get all worked up, my love~” Janus teases, patting Virgil’s arm, “I’m not able to affect time in any real sense, I can only predict the future. That’s how we were able to track you somewhat reliably.”

“That’s terrifying.” Virgil grumbles, “Are you guys having bursts like mine??”

“Nope. Aside from the visions, which can sneak up on me at times, I’m perfectly in control of my magic.” Janus smirks, “Remus has been having a similar problem to yours, when he gets excited. Not nearly as large-scale, though it can occasionally be dangerous.”

“And I revel in the chaos of it, so no skin off my back~!” Remus grins.

They fall into silence again, though it’s a bit more comfortable now. Virgil shuffles from foot to foot, not quite sure how to end the conversation, or disperse the lingering doubts and awkwardness hanging between them.

(As much as Virgil can try and dismiss his old feelings as “part of the Madness Roman cured,” there’s still a lot about that night that still doesn’t feel right in Virgil’s gut, and he doesn’t know how long he wants to wait for a longer explanation.)

(And, though their parting altercation has been mostly dismissed, it’s still been two years since he saw them last. Virgil knows how much non-elves can change in that time. What if even now, with everything said and done, they still can’t go back to the way they were before? What if they’re different now, and they don’t get along as well as they used to? Should he really want to, anyway??)

Sensing his worries and eager to put them to rest, Janus peels his other glove off as well and steps forward, very gently taking Virgil’s hands.

“Are you angry?” He asks, softly and genuinely.

“You can be upset, Virgil. A lot has happened, it’s okay if you need time.” Janus sends a glance in Remus’s direction, prodding him to help. Remus gives Virgil one of his ‘dazzling’ grins, trying to reassure him that they don’t hold any grudges.

Virgil relishes the familiar feeling of Janus’s hand, shoving aside his remaining worries. He’ll deal with his lingering doubts later.

(Their arrival has added an incredible number of new problems to his plate, but he’s frazzled and exhausted. His best friends are back, and they don’t hate him. At least for tonight, that will be enough; God knows he has enough to worry about right now, anyway.)

Virgil shakes his head, voice still sore from earlier that day, and nearly boneless with exhaustion. Janus and Remus share a knowing look, well aware Virgil is hiding something but too overwhelmed to get into it now.

“Let’s just head back in and rest for tonight.” Virgil sighs, brushing his hair behind his ear. He turns to Janus, frowning,

“In the morning, you’re going to have to tell them about the sorcery thing. And, probably also about being a snake. Logan never leaves it be at one question.”

“Ugh! You people won’t let me keep any of my secrets!” Janus complains, folding his arms. He already knew he would need to come clean, but that doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it. He tilts his chin up in an expression of faux-contempt, tone mocking,

“Fine, but only if you promise to actually sleep tonight. I wasn’t kidding earlier, you look like shit.”

“That’s not fair, someone has to keep watch!”

“We have a twenty-foot bear in there, who is going to sneak up on that? You’re being ridiculous.”

“But what about when Roman changes back in the morning? Someone has to be awake to help him!”

“I will, then!” Remus scoffs, “I’m his brother, he’s not gonna want anyone else to see him naked. Besides, we all know damn well you’re going to wake up the second anyone moves, hypersensitive ass.”

“Oh, shit.” Virgil hums, “We should pick him up some clothes before we head back in…”

“Ooooh, can I pick them out~?” Remus grins evilly. Virgil slaps his arm, trying not to laugh,

“No, leave him alone! He’s probably gonna be scared at first. You can bully him later.”

“You’re such a buzzkill! I don’t remember you being this lame.”

“Say that again when I have the energy to kick your ass.”

They playfully shove and bat at each other the whole way up the stairs, being careful of each other’s wounds while threatening to throw the other off the balcony. At the same time, they move slowly, considerate of Janus’s leg and eyesight.

Janus watches them and suppresses a fond smile, his cold heart warming at how quickly they’ve started to ease back into their usual dynamic...

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Ask 119�� (( @zozomind , @renee-niles ))

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Available for questions: Logan, Patton, Remus, Janus, Annie, Virgil, and…Roman?

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