#THE VAST BLANK SPACE ON THE PAPER IS SUPPOSED TO REMAIN BLANK DAMMIT

[fionnaskyborn]

i was actually cooking with gas with this one ngl. world's most normal and least traumatized twenty-six-year-old's grand return

oh wait no i am actually not going to bed just yet hang on

[ailithnight]

AT LONG LAST! The long awaited, month and a half late I’m so sorry, Sequel to Gifts from the Dark Side! So, yeah. I meant to have this finished and posted on Christmas... I’m very sorry to all the people who have waited so long they probably don’t even remember the first fic. Or those who have changed their url’s since asking to be tagged. I don’t know why but I got through about 4/5 of this and just... lost the motivation. And I didn’t want to force an unsatisfying ending for it, so I just kind of shelved it until I could find it in my heart to come back and finish it. Which I FINALLY did! Yay! So without further ado, here it is. 

Title: Gift from the Light Sides Words: 5687 (Mercy, I really did that!) Content Warnings: Some Angst. Panic Attack. Crying. Lots of Crying. Sleepless night. Mild self-deprecation. I think that’s it, but message me if I should add something.

General Tagslist: @moose-squirrel05, @didsomeonesayprince, @readeatfightlove13

Gifts from the Dark Side Tagslist: @uwillbeefound, @jughead-is-canonically-aroace, @highpriestessofthexeoniancouncil, @its-raining-cats, @lightlady599, @leesacrakon, @milomeepit, @lenakszak, @five-hour-anxiety​, @nightmarejasmine​, @theamberrose97​, @lizziepopanime​, @llamaly​, @cinquefoilelove​, @nerdy-emo-royal-dad​, @bangthekobrakid​, @soiguessthisismyusername​, @samidaboss3​

Virgil was honestly shocked by how much could change in just one year. Less than that really. Half a year more like. It was astonishing, wonderful, and terrifying all at once. Virgil didn’t typically handle change all that well. He couldn’t help it. Change meant differences. Differences meant new things that could go wrong. And Virgil was driven by his own nature as Anxiety, to imagine each and every possible and impossible scenario. Which is what he was doing now. Though this time, not for Thomas.

What if they’re angry at me? All those years of lying, what if it makes them upset. What if they hate me. What if they hate themselves? Oh god, what if they feel guilty? What if I make them feel guilty? What if they’re mad at me for making them feel guilty. I can’t. I can’t do that to them. But I can’t do nothing. I have to do something. Something has to change. What do I do? Dammit! What am I supposed to do now!

Here Virgil was, pacing a small circle in his room, wrapping paper of half a dozen varieties strewn around his room, tape and tissue paper making home of his space. The question had been plaguing him all month and now, here it was, December 24th, and Virgil felt no closer to a decent answer. In all those years, dreaming of acceptance, Virgil had never believed it even remotely possible enough to imagine the real-world implications. It was a genie wish, now coming true, and Virgil was facing the unforeseen consequences.

There were several benefits to being semi-fictional. One of which was an expedited healing process. Things that for a normal person would take days to heal, would take only an hour or two for the sides. Weeks became a handful of days and months not more than a few weeks. But even at this reduced rate, it was still taking the sides months of work and effort to recover from the psychological damage the past 28 years had done. Virgil was struggling in his own way, slowly but surely finding his place among the others and rebuilding his own sense of self-worth. Forgiving them had been easy, forgetting… not so much. And for the other’s forgiving themselves was a challenge almost as hard as Virgil’s battle. Guilt and shame and an intense desire to right the wrongs were only logical after discovering you had mistreated someone for so many years. Virgil knew they were struggling to come to terms with their past actions. He had no desire to make it harder. Which is why as Christmas Day drew ever nearer, Virgil found himself pacing his room trying to figure out what to do.

Patton had been so shy when asking Virgil if he wanted to celebrate Christmas with them. He made a point of emphasizing that Virgil didn’t have to do anything that he didn’t want to or feel comfortable doing. Of course, Virgil wanted nothing more than to spend the holidays with his family. Upon expressing this, Patton’s whole demeanor had shifted, becoming once more the bubbly, excited character he typically was. “Oh wonderful! It’s going to be so much fun having all the Kiddos together. You can help us decorate and bake and we’ll leave cookies for Santa and I’m sure he’ll leave you a present too this year.” That had given Virgil pause.

“I-I-I d-don’t know Pat,” Virgil stammered out. “I mean, he never has before. And I’m not… really the one who… has changed… a lot.”

“Nonsense!” Roman had exclaimed from the stairs, helping Logan haul down a large storage container Virgil assumed held the Christmas stuff. The noise had evidently startled everyone as Virgil and Patton both jumped and Logan almost dropped the box. Patton and Virgil stood to help them. Once the box was safely on the floor, Logan spoke.

“Virgil, I suspect that since Thomas has now accepted that you are a good guy, given that this is his mind, it is likely you will land on the so called ‘nice list’ this year.”

“Yeah!” Patton giggled. “I’m sure Santa knows you’re a good guy now! He’ll probably leave extra stuff to make up for all the years he messed up.” Virgil gaze shifted between the three of them, so hopeful and happy. He couldn’t find the words to tell them the truth, to dash their hopes and layer on the guilt. So, he didn’t.

“Maybe.” He muttered, shifting uncomfortably. Thankfully, they seemed to understand the Virgil wanted to drop the subject. They cracked open the storage box and together made the mindscape commons festive.

Now it was late at night on Christmas Eve and Virgil had spent the whole day in his room bouncing between monitoring video progress, then reception; and wracking his brain for a solution to his current conundrum. The three typically wrapped presents were waiting in their annual spot beside Virgil’s door. This year, Logan was receiving a nebula painted inside of an eye, Roman a fancy new journal and fountain pen, and Patton was getting an old polaroid camera with film and paper. The gifts themselves were not the concern for Virgil, rather it was how they should be presented.

If I give them as Santa, then I also have to come up with more gifts from me. What else could I give them? I worked hard on those. And what about myself? I can’t give myself a gift from Santa. That’s just messed up on so many levels. Besides, I do want to tell them eventually. Just not yet. Not when we’re in the middle of all this other shit. Fuck, what do I do?

An alarm went off on Virgil’s phone and he glanced at it. Midnight. It’s Christmas. Shit, shit, shit, dammit, fuck. I’m running out of time. Virgil pocket the phone and walked over to his door. He opened it quietly, listening to hear if the others were up. When he could here three sets of soft snoring and no one stirring, Virgil picked up the three gifts and crept downstairs, as was his normal ritual. Last chance to change your mind. If I leave them, they’re from Santa. Virgil worked slower than usual, taking extra care to be absolutely silent. He sat back to appreciate his work, still internally debating. Seeing them there, just like every year, but in a whole new light given recent events, Virgil made his decision. I can’t take this away from them. Not now. Not in the middle of all this other change. Let this tradition remain. Resolute in his decision, Virgil stood. He ate the cookies, this year not feeling the desire to consume them all given that he had been able to enjoy them all month. In fact, it was almost difficult to eat just the normal two and a half. He chased the sweet down with half the milk, then finally retreated back upstairs. Now to figure out what to give them from me.

Taking a few notes from the video, Virgil worked through the remainder of the night, barely even aware of the passing hours until sunlight began streaming in through his windows and he could give a shy smile at his newly finished creations. It wasn’t much, but Virgil hoped the others wouldn’t mind, chalking it up to Virgil not really knowing what to get them. He had expanded on the card idea to give Patton a small book full of puns and compliments and a long list of reasons Virgil loved the dad character. For Logan, Virgil had used his vast Tumblr knowledge to compile an alphabetical list of slang terms and memes, including notes of which ones were already outdated and which ones were old and would likely become outdated soon. Roman had been tougher. What do you create for Creativity. In the end, Virgil had written an epic-like poem, telling the story of the dashing prince who saved his kingdom from a monster called Boredom with his horse Inspiration and his sword Imagination. Virgil was quite proud of the trinkets, especially considering the time crunch he was working on. He stood and stretched with a yawn. He summoned a few gift bags and grabbed some tissue paper from the mess of his room. I’ll have to clean this up before anyone walks in. Once the gifts were packaged and labeled, he took them on downstairs, firmly closing the door behind him. Once the presents were under the tree, Virgil released a face splitting yawn, the sleepless night weighing heavily on his body. However, Virgil could tell, too many anxious thoughts sparked and swirled in his mind for sleep to be feasible. So, rather than go back to his room and attempt to rest, he wandered into the kitchen and made some hot chocolate (coffee was never a great thing to give the embodiment of anxiety). With his warm drink in hand, Virgil curled up on the sofa and flipped on the tv, muting it so it wouldn’t wake the others. He flipped through channels until he found a familiar movie, A Christmas Carol, and watched the scenes flickered by in a trance-like state of almost dozing.

“Good Morning and Merry Christmas, Virgil!” Virgil was jerked from his blank minded staring by Patton’s cheery tone. He looked around, noticing how much lighter the room had grown as sunlight filtered in. Patton giggled as he came off the stairs and wrapped Virgil in a hug from behind. “Couldn’t sleep, could ya, Kiddo.” Virgil hummed a vague affirmation, too out of it to produce words just yet. Patton giggled again and grabbed Virgil’s mug, still half full but now cold. “Logan and Roman will probably be up soon. In the meantime, would you like to help me with breakfast?” Finally coming back into full consciousness, Virgil nodded.

“Sure Dad. Sounds fun.” Patton gave him a bright happy grin, which Virgil returned with his trademark, shy half smile. Once Patton let him go, Virgil stood and stretched, groaning as tired muscles clicked and popped back into place after no less than an hour and a half sitting hunched on the sofa. Patton was already pulling out pans and bowls when Virgil joined him. “What do you need?” Virgil asked, walking towards the fridge.

“Eggs, milk, bacon, butter, flour.” Virgil pulled the ingredients as Patton listed them off. Patton cheerily taught Virgil how to mix up pancake batter while the father figure managed the stove. Somewhere in the middle, Logan came down and began to brew a pot of coffee. Roman was the last to come down. He set the table. As the house filled with the sounds of life and merriment, Virgil’s smile slowly grew. This is the life. Only after breakfast was eaten did Patton stand, a bounce in his step, and announce, “Present time!” With light chuckles, everyone moved into the living room. Virgil felt nervous energy well up inside of him, but he pushed it down, focusing on the easy warmth of being with his family. First the stockings were distributed and Virgil noted the distinct lack of coal in his own. Then Patton sat by the tree.

“You do the honors, Padre.” Roman told Patton.

“Okay!” He grabbed a present at random, carefully avoiding the Santa presents, and read the tag. “To Logan from Roman.” Logan took the gift.

“Thank you, Patton.” He tore into the wrapping, exposing a pair of soft, unicorn slippers.

“To match your onesie.” Roman clarified. Logan chuckled.

“Thank you, Roman. They shall see much use.” Virgil felt warmth blossoming through him.

“Virgil, next one’s for you,” Patton spoke. “It’s from me.” The father grinned as Virgil gingerly accepted the gift.

“Thank you.” Virgil pulled off the wrapper to find a framed picture. Tears sprung to his eyes as he recognized the image. It was a selfie Patton had taken with Logan, Roman, Virgil, and Thomas in the background. After the whole ‘ducking out’ thing, they had gathered in Thomas’s apartment for a good feelings jam and movie night. It had been one of the best nights of Virgil’s life. In the picture, Virgil was wedged between Thomas and Logan with Roman to the side. Virgil and Roman both had red tints creeping on their cheeks and Thomas was doubled over with laughter. Logan looked bewildered. The memory magnified the warmth in Virgil’s chest ten-fold. He cleared his throat, trying to speak without too much emotion. “I love it. Thanks Dad.” Patton flashed a grin.

This continued on, Patton handing out presents and everyone opening theirs and sharing words of love and appreciation. Patton had gotten a scarf, hat, and mittens set from Roman covered in cats and dog; as well as a joke book from Logan. He has squealed when he opened Virgil’s gift and Virgil could feel his cheeks burning. Logan and Roman both also gushed over Virgil’s gits to them. From Patton, Logan received one of those Lego Architecture set to build famous buildings and things. In homage to Sherlock, Logan got a set for London. Roman got a scrapbook of playbills from all of Thomas’s past shows and from Logan, a book about improv and method acting. Virgil got a Nightmare Before Christmas puzzle book from Logan and a new makeup set from Roman. Finally, they were down to Virgil’s Santa presents. Virgil tried to hide his excitement, ignoring the shooting glances everyone sent at the stack under the tree.

Logan opened his first. The soft gasp the gift elicited almost made Virgil giggle with bubbly joy. “This is… incredible.” He held the painting up. “The detail is simply astounding. Thank you, Santa.” Virgil hid his smile with a sip of cocoa. Roman’s was next.

“Magnificent! Just what I’ve been needing lately! Thank you, Santa.” Finally, it was just Patton’s gift. Virgil noticed the way his fingers trembled as he pulled the box near. He opened the box and pulled out the camera, turning it over in his hands. Virgil saw the tears well up in his eyes. “I love it. Thank you, Santa.” The underneath of the tree was now empty. Virgil closed his eyes and leaned back in the couch with a contented sigh. Suddenly, “I’m so sorry, Virgil.” Virgil looked up where Patton was now standing above him. The father looked conflicted and lost. Virgil’s eyes darted to the other two who seemed to be in similarly confused states. “I thought for sure… I don’t understand why he would leave you out.” Patton was almost crying now.

“Pat, what are you talking about?”

“Santa.” The damn broke and Patton sobbed. Oh. Yeah. That. Virgil gave the father a soft smile, standing to give him a hug.

“It’s okay, Patton.”

“N-no, it isn’t. It’s not r-r-right.”

“How could Santa be so callous!” Roman sounded affronted.

“Virgil,” Logan spoke, calmer than the other two, “You should have received a present to. You deserve one as well.” Virgil pulled out of Patton’s arms. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat and come up with some way to make it okay again.

“But it’s okay. I don’t need a present from Santa to know I’m not a bad guy. Besides, there’s nothing he could give me better than this.” Patton’s sob slowed.

“W-what do you mean, K-kiddo?” Virgil flashed a smile, a real genuine smile.

“All I ever wanted was to be accepted, to be a part of the family. I have that now. Nothing Santa could give would be better than that.”

“Do you mean it?” Roman asked, sounding choked. Virgil nodded.

“Absolutely.” Before he realized what was happening, Virgil was on the couch, wrapped in the biggest hug he had received to date. Warmth and happiness and love flared almost painfully inside of him. They sat just like that for a long while. After a bit, someone turned the volume back on, on the tv. They spent most of the day watching Christmas movies. At some point, Virgil’s sleepless night caught up with him, and he fell asleep wrapped in the embrace of his family.

 “You got him, Ro?”

“Yeah, I’m good, Patton.”

“He’ll sleep better in a bed.”

“I wonder if he slept at all last night.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if the answer was no.”

“Shh. Guys, you’ll wake him.”

“Take him on upstairs, then, Roman.” Virgil snuggles into the soft, warm wall he was held against by two strong branches. The distant voices fell silent and a gentle swaying lulled him back into a deeper sleep.

 Roman couldn’t help but smile at the lanky emo currently nuzzling his chest. It was only 5pm, but Virgil had fallen asleep. Patton mentioned he had been up when he had come down that morning and Logan speculated he didn’t sleep well, if at all. They had decided he should be put in bed where he could rest comfortably and Roman, being the strongest of the group, had volunteered to take him. He climbed the stairs slowly, careful not to jostle Virgil too much. It probably wouldn’t be good for anyone to have the embodiment of Anxiety wake up in an unexpected place being carried by someone. It took 4 minutes, but finally, Roman made it to the second story. Virgil’s door proved a bit of a challenge, but Roman finally got it to swing open. The sight that greeted him inside was shocking to say the least.

First and foremost, Roman never would have expected a mess. The one time they had popped up with Thomas in Virgil’s realm (which would be found on the other side of the room outside of where the replica of Thomas’s bedroom door was), it had been immaculately organized. Of course, there had been spider webs everywhere, but otherwise, it had been clean. Logan had hypothesized that obsessive organization was a side effect of anxiety. Virgil had confirmed that if he couldn’t find what he needed when he needed it, he tended to freak out. But the mess alone was not what brought Roman to a stuttering halt in the doorway. It’s what the mess was made of. There was Christmas wrapping all over the place, despite the fact that Virgil had used bags. Most surprising of all was the three rolls in particular that stood out to Roman, the three designs he easily recognized. His eyes darted around the room, trying to make some semblance of sense out of the chaos. An idea tickled the back of his mind, but the implications were so horrible, Roman couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it. After several moments, Virgil shifted in his arms, and Roman moved. He cleared a spot on Virgil’s bed and laid him in it, tucking the covers snugly around him. Virgil shifted again and mumbled something incoherent before sighing and relaxing. Once he was certain Virgil wasn’t going to wake up, he made his way swiftly back to the stairs, leaving the door open behind him. He came halfway down before calling for Logan and Patton’s attention.

“I think there is something you two should see.” Patton was on his feet instantly.

“Why, Roman? What’s wrong? Is Virgil okay?”

“I… I think so. Just, come on. Let me show you.” Logan gave him s skeptical look, but got up and followed nonetheless. Roman showed them to Virgil’s room, where they all peeked in.

“What are you talking about? He looks fi-” Patton’s comment came to a stilted halt as he took in the whole room. “Oh.” Logan adjusted his glasses, then cautiously walked in. He picked up the three familiar rolls, balancing them in his hands, a thoughtful look on his face. “Logan? What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking…” Logan turned his gaze to their youngest counterpart, “I’m thinking we should discuss this downstairs.” With that, Logan snapped his fingers, the mess of the room organizing itself at his will. Logan kept hold of the three rolls and brought them out of the room with him, closing the door quietly as he left. “It would appear Santa is not who he seems.” With that, the three sides left Virgil to rest, and went downstairs for a long discussion of Christmas traditions.

 Virgil awoke feeling better rested than he had in a very long time. He came around slowly, blinking blearily to clear his sight of sleep. He expected to wake up in the living room, perhaps on the couch, with the others around him. But when his eyed finally focused, he was surprised to see the almost black blue that was his painted ceiling. He blinked a couple times. “When did I come up here?” He turned his head, expecting the absolute disarray that was his last memory of his room. He was met with confusion at the tidiness of his space, all the wrapping paper stacked neatly in a box by his desk. He wracked his brain, trying to remember cleaning up, until he noticed something. Or more specifically, something missing. Shock pierced his system and he sat up, slivers of fear immediately beginning to crawl up his spine and sit freezing cold on the back of his neck. “Where’s the wrapping paper?” He threw off the blanket and stood, stumbling slightly as his muscles woke up. He staggered over to the box and pawed through it, looking for the old, familiar wraps he has used for many Christmases past. It became increasingly apparent that the paper wasn’t there and Virgil became increasingly desperate to find it. He threw himself at his bed, checking underneath, but only finding his art supplies and canvases. He checked his closet next, only met with his clothes and a few shoeboxes of old photographs. The longer he looked but couldn’t find, the more panic welled up inside him. After 15 minutes of frantic searching, breathing became too difficult to continue. He sat at his desk chair, struggling to regulate his breathing. It wasn’t working and Virgil’s mind began to spiral away from him.

Oh god, what if they found them? What if they brought me to my room and they found the mess and the paper? What of they realized it was me all along? What if they hate me for lying to them all these years? What if they’re mad at themselves for not knowing sooner? What if Patton is upset that Santa isn’t real? Oh god, this is bad. This is bad, bad, bad. I should have cleaned up earlier. I should have dropped off the gifts and come back up to clean. Stupid. Lazy. Fuck-up. I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up.

Suddenly, Virgil felt a familiar tug in his gut. He tried to swat the sensation away. “Noooo. Not right now. I can’t. I’m… I …I… noooo,” He whined, but the sensation persisted until Virgil was pulled into the real world.

“Virgil, what’s wrong.” Virgil couldn’t focus on the speaker, too caught up in his own self-deprecating, panicking thoughts. “Virgil, hey, bud, look at me.” Virgil tried. It took a few minutes, but eventually he was able to meet Thomas’s gentle gaze. “There you are. Can I touch you?” Slowly, Virgil nodded. Thomas reached out, placing one hand on Virgil’s shoulder, grounding him further. The other hand grabbed one of Virgil’s guiding it to Thomas’s chest. “Can you breathe with me?” Thomas breathed deeply, in for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Virgil fought to match the steady rhythm, panicked thoughts fading to the background as Virgil focused on the simple task. After several minutes, Virgil felt like he could breathe on his own again.

“Are you back with us, Kiddo?” Virgil was only mildly surprised to hear Patton’s voice. If Thomas had summoned him, it made sense that he had summoned the other’s too. Virgil flicked his gaze to the father, but almost instantly dropped it again.

“Yeah. M’here.”

“Good. We’re glad.” Virgil flinched back from Roman’s boisterous tone. “Sorry.” Roman amended.

“S’okay.”

“Virgil?” It was Logan speaking now. The logical trait has knelt beside Virgil. “Would you mind telling us what caused this attack? Perhaps we could help.” Virgil couldn’t bring himself to look up and meet their gazes.

“It’s nothing. I just… couldn’t find what I was looking for.”

“Oh. Well, what was it. Maybe we can help.” Thomas was as chipper as ever, if slightly concerned. Virgil glanced briefly at him, then at Roman, Patton, and finally Logan. They were all watching him expectantly.

“It’s nothing important.” They frowned. A thoughtful look crossed Logan’s features.

“Would it perhaps be these?” Logan grabbed something from beside the stairs and three familiar rolls of paper came to rest in his hand. Virgil looked between him, the paper, and the others. Their expressions were unreadable. Virgil felt heat rise to his face and he hung his head.

“M’sorry.” They seemed to get a reaction. Patton came down with Logan, wrapping Virgil in a half hug.

“Whatever do you think you have to be sorry for?” Virgil thought for a moment, trying to put into words the weight on his mind.

“For not telling you sooner. For lying for all these years.”

“Well, why didn’t you say something before? Did you think we wouldn’t believe you?” Patton asked curiously.

“No. That’s not it. I mean, maybe once upon a time, but not now.” Virgil was hesitant.

“Then what?” He prodded gently.

“I didn’t want you to be upset.”

“We would never be upset with you for this.”

“Not… not just with me. Not anymore.”

“I may be alone, feelings are not really my thing, but I don’t understand what you mean, Virgil.” Logan seemed somewhat baffled.

“I didn’t want you to be upset with yourselves. For excluding me. And for jumping to conclusions. You’ve all been trying so hard, just like I have, to be better and I know sometimes you struggle to forgive yourselves even though I’ve already forgiven you and I just… I didn’t want to make it any harder. Especially not right now. It’s… it’s Christmas. Christmas is supposed to be happy.” Virgil couldn’t stop his babbling until the feelings had had their say. It was always something he’d struggled with. Once the words were finally out there, a heavy silence settled over the room.

Patton was the first to respond and Virgil found himself engulfed in the father’s arms. Virgil looked at him, confused by the odd mixture of deep sadness and joy that seemed to be fighting for dominance of his facial expression. “Oh, Kiddo. Virgil. It’s so sweet that you want to protect us from that we love you for it, we really do, but…” Patton trailed off, a small frown forming on his face. Logan picked up where he left off.

“But you can’t protect us from that. It’s illogical and it will not help in the long run.”

“Logan is right,” Roman interjected. “We messed up in a most grievous manner. We caused you pain for many years. There must be consequence for our actions. We must atone for our sins.” Virgil frowned. That’s exactly what he didn’t want.

“I don’t want atonement. I just want to move on. I want to leave the past behind so we can just be a family.”

“Virge.” Thomas piped up, taking on his normal role of mediator and leader for his sides. “The only way to move on from the past is to acknowledge it. We all must come to terms with our past mistakes. It’s the only way to truly heal. That’s the consequence Roman speaks of. The healing process, forgiving ourselves and each other and learning how to be better, it’s a messy process and its going to take time. But in the end, it will be so worth it. Because isn’t healing so much better than pretending not to be hurt?” Virgil listened intently to what Thomas had to say. He was trying to take to heart what he was saying. At the same time, his brain made a connection that had a small smirk pulling at his lips.

“You sound just like you do in the videos. Are you sure you don’t have a hidden camera set up somewhere?” The easy wit did wonders for the tension in the room. Thomas and Roman both chuckled, Patton giggled, and even Logan let out an amused snort.

“No. No filming today.” Something occurred to Virgil then.

“Then why did you summon us all?” Thomas just chuckled again.

“Actually,” Patton chirped, jumping up. “He didn’t Logan and Roman and me were already here.”

“I,” corrected Logan.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Said Roman, rhythmically.

“What, is it National Talk Like A Pirate Day?” Asked Patton cheekily. Logan just sighed and shook his head. Virgil tried to hold back a chuckle, but failed and just barely managed to muffle it with his hoodie sleeve.

“Virgil.” Logan spoke seriously. Virgil swallowed nervously, something Logan didn’t miss. He made a point of softening his tone when he continued. “We were up here seeking help from Thomas. You see, with how thoughtful and generous you’ve been with your gifts for all these years, we thought it only fair you should receive something equally special from us. We required Thomas’s assistance in acquiring it.”

“Oh. Um. Y-you guys didn’t ha-ave to go through all that tr-rouble just for me.” Virgil stuttered out.

“They wanted to.” Thomas responded calmly. “I wanted to. We want to show you how much you mean to us, Virgil. We can’t make up for all those years we excluded and isolated you. But we can make dang sure you feel loved and included now.” Virgil ducked his head, hiding the soft pink spreading across his cheeks, which were on display since Virgil hadn’t put on his make-up yet.

“O-o-okay.” Virgil glanced up from under his bangs, catching the broad smile on each of there faces. Even Logan, Mr. Emotions are the bane of my existence, was sporting one. Patton had bounced over to the coffee table were a medium sized box wrapped in electric purple paper sat. He grabbed it and bounced back over, plopping down next to Virgil and sliding the box into his hands. Virgil noticed a card taped to the top.

“We hope you like it, Kiddo. It was Roman’s idea what to get.”

“Well, Logan picked out which one.” Roman replied sheepishly.

“Patton and Thomas made the card,” said Logan.

“It was a team effort!” Giggled Patton. “Open it up.” Virgil opened the card first. It was a home-made paper card, like the one he had received from Patton what felt like a lifetime ago now. On the front, they had drawn Logan, Thomas, Roman, and Patton with Virgil soaring above them on purple wings. It read: ‘For our Guardian Angle, who takes good care of us…’ Virgil opened the card. Inside, he had landed on the ground and the others had grouped around him in a hug. ‘Don’t be An-Jealous! We want to take care of you, too!’ Virgil made no effort to hide the smile on his face. He carefully slid the card back into its envelope. Then he turned to the box. He glanced up at them, looking for confirmation. The all gave him soft smiles and small nods. Virgil tore into the paper and opened the box. His mouth fell open when he looked inside. He glanced between his family and the box, unsure if this was even happening. “Well?” Patton pressed gently. Virgil’s hands fell into the box, pulling out the soft purple and yellow fabric. He began to unfold it, unsurprised when it took on a humanoid shape. The unfolding revealed pieces of orange fabric mixed in. Once it was fully unfolded, Virgil held in his hands a Spyro the Dragon onesie. Tears welled up in his eyes at the thoughtfulness that must have gone into this gift. He couldn’t even imagine what they’d had to do to get it here within the last 24 hours.

“It’s perfect, guys. Thank you. I love it. I love you.” It was weird saying it, after spending so long hiding those feelings. But even weird, it felt right.

“We love you to, Virgil.” They all chorused back. The tears spilled over, but Virgil found he didn’t mind. Not when Patton was there, gently wiping them away with his own tearful smile. They were all quiet as the cried out their individual feelings of overwhelming joy and love. After a while, Roman snapped his fingers, gaining their attentions. He beamed a broad smile, looking for all the world like he had just had the most brilliant idea in the whole world. Virgil was more than happy in that moment to believe that maybe he had.

“What does everyone say to a PJs and Movies Day with the whole family.” The others all responded with varying forms of yes. Roman looked at Virgil.

“Sounds good to me, Princey. But only if The Black Cauldron makes the list.” Patton bounced up with a giggle. He launched himself upstairs to get some extra pillows and blankets. Virgil stood too, coming off the stairs to stand with Roman by the TV. Logan moved off to the kitchen to prepare some snacks. Thomas went upstairs to help Patton and also to put on his pjs, the sides having snapped instantly into theirs.

“It can be first. But we are definitely watching a classic second. Cinderella.”

“I vote Aladdin third!” Thomas called down.

“Don’t forget Winnie The Pooh!” Patton responded from the top of the stairs.

“And Big Hero 6 if we may,” said Logan.

“Perfect!” Exclaimed Roman, “A day of favorites with all my favorites.” Virgil couldn’t keep the smile off his face. His new Spyro onesie was soft, warm, and comfortable. His family was all around him wearing their own onesies, save for Thomas (Virgil made a mental note to make sure Thomas got one, too at some point). It was the day after Christmas and for the first time in living memory Virgil felt like absolutely everything, down to the last minute detail, was perfect.

Part 2