#why this graphic giving perry the platypus…

[luster-dust]

british 1-2-3 damn they rlly colonizing everything 😕😕😕

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Mr. Blue Sky

Prompt: if ur still taking prompts could you maybe write Patton having a bad depression day and the other sides helping him out! ps your writing is amazing

Thanks for the prompt, babe! I hope it’s what you wanted!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: depressive episode, nothing graphic

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, I don’t care, all or none. Can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 2554

Depression:

de•pres•sion – a mood disorder marked especially by sadness, inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration, a significant increase or decrease in appetite and time spent sleeping, feelings of dejection, and hopelessness.

Patton feels grey today.

Sometimes he doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know it’s going to be a bad day.

 Patton’s gonna be honest. He doesn’t have bad days most of the time. No, really, he doesn’t. Not like this.

 Most days it’s just kind of…there, you know? It’s like looking up into a clear, blue sky, as blue as it could possibly be, and there’s just a little grey cloud near the horizon. Not bothering anyone, not making it shady anywhere, but it’s there. Unmistakably there. That’s not a bad day. It’s just a day.

 Today he wakes up and the whole sky is grey.

 His room responds to emotion. It fills with soft air, vibrant color, all the things that make Thomas feel—well, anything. So many, so many, so many. Not today.

 Today the room is grey.

 Shadows cast darkness onto almost every surface in his room, from the desk to the closet to the bare walls where every memory is blurred out into static. The whole room looks flat. Like someone stuck a black and white photo of what it’s supposed to look like into a projector and the projector is shaky, spinning out of time, artifacts appearing in the photo. He blinks. Tries to clear his vision. It doesn’t help.

 Patton blinks again and his eyelids feel like they’re glued shut. He can’t open them. Why should he? He doesn’t want to see this version of his room. Better to just lie here and wait for the rainclouds to go away. Are they rainclouds? They don’t feel like rain clouds. They just feel like clouds. How do we make clouds go away?

 Logan would know how clouds go away. But Logan is not here and every inch of his body feels like it weighs too much. Is he imagining it or is he sinking further into his bed?

 The blankets on top of him aren’t weighted, he knows that, but even their faint pressure is insurmountable. He can’t summon up the will to move them so he doesn’t. He just lies there. Still. Trying to see if he can open his eyes.

 He should get up. He has to get dressed. He has to make breakfast.

 But why? None of them need to eat. Logan’s probably made himself breakfast in the time it’s taken him to not get out of bed. Roman’s probably eaten already. Virgil doesn’t normally join them for breakfast. Janus has a sleep schedule he hasn’t figured out yet. And Remus…well, Remus likes his own type of food.

 Patton doesn’t need to go anywhere, what would be the point?

 He can’t fall back asleep. There’s too much static. It whines in his ears and makes him want to scrunch up, block it out, if only he could move. But he can’t. So he won’t.

 Will the others worry? Maybe. It’s not like he can do anything about it. He remembers—does he? Does he have enough energy to remember?—they told him if he ever needed help or support on bad days he should come get one of them. Or summon them. But summoning means moving.

 Doesn’t really matter. Moving won’t make the clouds go away. Might as well just…lie here, wait for them to go away.

 Patton lies there, in his bed, on his side, his room turning grey.

 He blinks. Oh. The light is different. Was the light different a moment ago? It was coming in low, wasn’t it? Why is it super bright now? It’s too bright. It’s too grey.

 But closing the curtains means moving.

 He blinks.

 The light is gone now. It’s back to being low in the sky. Did he imagine it being really bright?

 Doesn’t matter. The room is still grey.

 Something buzzes at the corner of his mind. Is that…is something making noise? It happens again.

 “Patton?”

 Oh. Is that Roman? Why is Roman here?

 “Patton, are you in here?”

 Speaking means moving.

 “…Patton, I’m coming in, okay?”

 The door creaks open and there is a quickly stifled gasp. The room is still grey.

 “Patton? Patton, where are—oh, oh, Padre…”

 Oh. Roman’s here now. Roman’s sash is so red.

 “Patton,” Roman murmurs as he crouches next to the bed, “Patton, can you hear me?”

 Patton manages a small sound in his throat. Oh. He can speak. A little. He tries again.

 “…mhmm.”

 Roman breathes a sigh of relief. His expression changes into something a little sad. “Bad day, huh?”

 “Mhmm.”

 “When was the last time you ate something,” Roman prompts gently, “drank something?”

 Patton furrows his brow. Isn’t it still morning? In response, Roman carefully moves his clock into his line of sight.

 Oh.

 His eyes must widen a little when he realizes it’s late in the afternoon. Roman sets the clock aside and glances at the door.

 “I’m going to take that as you haven’t eaten today,” he says quietly, “is that right?”

 Patton closes his eyes and makes a frustrated noise. What good is this? What good is he? If he can’t make the clouds go away—

 “Hey,” comes the soft voice and a warm hand on his cheek, “stay with me here.”

 Roman smiles at him and runs his fingers through his hair as he peers up at him. Roman is warm. Really warm. Does warm make the clouds go away?

 “Here’s what we’re gonna do, okay?” Roman tucks his other hand under Patton’s head, cradling it gently. “We’re going to have you sit up first, then we’re going to go get you something to eat. Is that alright?”

 …yeah.

 But…moving.

 “Shh,” Roman says as a little wrinkle appears between Patton’s brows again, “I won’t move until you’re ready for it.”

 Patton’s about to try and say he’s been unable to move all day, apparently, when Roman leans forward and rests their foreheads together, warm breaths puffing over his neck. Roman is warm. Roman is red.

 He closes his eyes and lets Roman’s warmth bring a little color back to his cheeks.

 “Okay,” he mumbles after a little, “okay.”

 “You want to try and sit up now?”

 “Yeah.”

 “Alright.” Roman adjusts his grip, getting one hand around Patton’s waist. “We’re going to go slow. If at any point you feel dizzy, or you can’t keep going, you have my full permission to fall on me and we’ll lie you back down.”

 For some reason, the image of him just full-on collapsing onto Roman makes a giggle bubble up in his throat. Roman chuckles too, his arms tightening.

 “Ready? Here we go…”

 Sitting up is slow. It’s fuzzy. But it works. Roman rubs his arm encouragingly as they get him seated on the edge of the bed.

 “Next step is standing up. You need a moment before we do that?”

 “Yeah.”

 “Okay. You take your time, I’m not going anywhere.”

 Roman is warm. Roman is so, so warm. Patton’s fingers idly toy with the cord on his shoulders.

 “…thanks.”

 “Oh, of course, Padre.” A warm hand runs over his cheek. “It’s no more than you’ve done for us.”

 “…us?”

 Roman gives him a smile. “You don’t think the others are going to let me have all the fun, do you?”

 As if on cue, there’s another set of footsteps approaching the door.

 “Hey, Princey, you get lost or something?”

 “In here,” Roman calls as Virgil rounds the corner. Virgil is purple. So, so, purple.

 “Heya, Pop-star,” Virgil says softly, crouching down next to Roman, “you havin’ an off day?”

 “…yeah.”

 “Okay. We’re gonna get you downstairs, okay? The others are waiting.”

 “What?”

 Virgil’s mouth tugs up into a smile. “Yeah, Pat. You didn’t show all day and we got worried.”

 Roman gives his arm a squeeze. “You about ready to stand?”

 Patton nods and holds his arms out for help.

 “Easy, easy—“

 “There you go, Padre, go slow.”

 “Great job. You wanna lean on us for a little?”

 “I got you, don’t worry.”

 Roman loops his arm gracefully through Patton’s, holding him like they’re walking down the path to his castle again as they move out of the too-grey room. Virgil hangs beside them, following down the stairs into the living room. As soon as they hit the bottom, Logan looks up from the kitchen and smiles.

 “Hello, Patton.” He gestures toward the seat next to him. “Please, come join us.”

 Roman deposits him carefully next to Logan, who immediately sets a small plate in front of him. Virgil gives him a wink before striking up a conversation with Roman that immediately fills the room. There’s no pressure for Patton to join, no pressure to do anything other than try and eat the easy food in front of him and lean against Logan’s side. Logan’s warm too. Is everyone warm? Logan is blue. Dark blue.

 “Here,” Logan murmurs as Janus sends a barb back at Virgil, “try and drink this for me?”

 It’s just water. It does little to clear the static in his throat, but it does make him feel a little more like a person. He goes to try and take another bite only for it to turn to ash in his mouth.

 Remus catches his grimace from his other side. “Had enough?”

 “Think so.”

 Reaching out in a blur of green, Remus scoops Patton’s food onto his own plate and scarfs it down, artfully dodging the balled-up receipt Roman tosses at him.

 “What are they talking about,” Patton mumbles to Logan as Remus immediately shouts something about lizards and coniferous trees.

 “I have absolutely no idea,” comes Logan’s bemused reply. “I believe it started off with a debate about what exactly separates reptiles from mammals but I’ve quite lost the thread of the conversation.”

 “It’s not my fault that you decided dragons are a subspecies of platypuses!”

 “Does that make every single dragon a relative of Perry the Platypus?”

 “Well, somehow we’ve gotten to Phineas and Ferb,” Logan murmurs as Virgil immediately starts clamoring for Janus to change his hat.

 And somehow the image of seeing Janus as a gold snake with a fedora makes the static clear enough for Patton to giggle.

 Of course, the instant he does that, the entire table just stops to stare at him. Virgil is so distracted Janus swipes his hat back and stands, sweeping around to Patton’s side.

 “Shall we keep going?”

 “What are we doing now?”

 “Let’s get you changed into something else,” Janus says softly as he helps Patton up, leaving the others to talk about…whatever they’re talking about now, “it’ll help you feel better.”

 “Okay.”

 “Would you like to talk about it?”

 Patton shakes his head as they get back to his room. “Just a grey day.”

 Janus nods and gently pushes him toward the bathroom. “Take a shower for me, honey, then we’ll get you into some new clothes.”

 “Um—“

 He pauses on his way to Patton’s closet. “What is it, honey?”

 “Can I, um…” Now that he’s seen the others, the cold greyness of his room makes the numbness flood back. “Could you…hug me?”

 “Oh, of course, honey, come here…”

 Oh, Janus is warm. Janus is really warm. Really warm and really yellow.

 “You’re doing so well today,” Janus murmurs, stroking up and down Patton’s back, “we’re so proud of you.”

 They stand there for a little while, until Patton can pry himself out of the hug and toward the bathroom. The tiles are grey but the sink is cream. He peels himself out of the pajamas that are starting to feel a little gummy and tosses them in the hamper. The shower handle is cold but the water is warm. He doesn’t have the energy to wash. The water beats over his shoulders, warm, steady, reassuring. If he closes his eyes, the clouds have started to rain. Warm, summer rain that smells like sleep.

 A light knock on the door a few moments later and Patton turns the water off. He hears Janus open the door and leave something on the counter. He takes the towel from the rack and dries himself off, curling his fingers in the soft clothes left for him.

 Janus smiles when he opens the door, holding his hand out for Patton to take.

 “Come on,” he coaxes when Patton blearily makes a noise of protest, “the others are downstairs waiting.”

 “Wha’re we doing?”

 “Well,” Janus drawls as they make their way into the hall, “I’m sure it couldn’t be letting us spoil you with cuddles, now, couldn’t it?”

 Sure enough, Roman’s summoned a mattress big enough to cover the entire floor of the living room. Remus is already sprawled on top of Roman, but he looks up with a grin as Patton gets to the bottom of the stairs.

 “Remus, no—!”

 Roman just manages to grab his brother around the waist as Remus lunges for Patton.

“Let me go!”

 “You have to wait for him to get to the mattress first!”

 “Ugh,” Remus rolls his eyes, “fine.”

 Janus chuckles as Patton crawls to the center of the mattress and, after a brief nod, Roman lets Remus go. Sure enough, Remus almost bowls them back off the mattress.

 “Remus,” Roman huffs in exasperation, even though Patton can hear his smile.

 “What?” Remus shifts on top of him, his weight warm and green and perfect, his arms wrapped around Patton’s waist as he tucks a pillow under his head. “I got it.”

 He can hear Roman roll his eyes as red tucks itself against his side. “Yeah, you sure do.”

 Virgil snickers from somewhere above him and Patton cranes his neck back to see a flash of purple curling above his head. “You comfy, Pat? Breathing okay?”

 “…yeah.”

 “Good.” The purple looks over to Patton’s other side. “So’re you two just gonna sit there and pretend you don’t want in or what?”

 “We’re coming.”

 Sure enough, a moment later, Janus takes a seat with his back against the couch, Virgil’s head in his lap. He reaches down with a golden hand and runs his fingers through Patton’s hair. Dark blue lies down next to him and Logan reaches to gently remove his glasses, laying them on the side table.

 Everything is fuzzy static clears. Something dull and achy wells up in Patton’s chest, asleep all day, forming a lump in his throat that suddenly makes it hard to breathe. As if they can feel it, the twins share a look.

 Remus frees one of his arms and carefully takes Patton’s right hand, gently pressing it to the mattress next to his head. Roman takes his left, pressing a kiss to the back of it and clasping it to his own chest. Logan shifts as Janus’s hand cards through Patton’s hair. Virgil murmurs something that gets lost in the warm haze.

 Amidst the warmth, Patton’s eyes flutter closed.

 The sky is filled with clouds, splashed with dark blue, fading into purple, the lightest touches of gold at the very edges, shimmering in the fading light. The deep red at the horizon fades into pink, into yellow, into the slightest hint of green before spilling into an endless stretch of blue, blue, blue sky.

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