Bad Guy | Sanders Sides

Chapter Five

Anxiety resurface gradually, his head throbbing and thoughts muddled. There were voices talking by him, but he couldn't figure out what they were saying, couldn't understand. His body was sore, and he felt like cotton had been shoved up through his brain.

They were saying something about Thomas, and about Logan. Anxiety frowned. Why? What had happened while he was out? Why had he been unconscious? What was happening?

"What do we tell Anxiety?" Roman asked, voice tired, and Anxiety froze. They were talking about him. Why? "He'll freak out about it."

There was a heavy sigh, and someone shifted. "He needs to know," Patton said. "But not right away. We have to keep an eye on Thomas."

"We can't tell him to monitor Thomas without telling him what happened," Logan argued. "He needs all the facts to monitor the outcome."

Roman made a low sound, slightly maniacal. "Right, lets straight up tell him that you made Thomas take anxiety meds. That should go over marvelously."

Anxiety's world whited out, and a static whine settled in on his ears. He felt like he'd taken a step out of the present, and he was just sort of...swirling. Anxiety medication. Thomas had taken some? Well, that explained why Anxiety had been unconscious, but he couldn't grasp what that meant.

Thomas had taken anxiety medication.

Thomas had taken anxiety medication.

And...Logan had encouraged it?

Anxiety couldn't understand. Why? It all circled back to that damning question, those horrific three letters that tightened his throat and squeezed his lungs. Why, why, why? Why had Logan pushed for Thomas to take them? Why had Thomas listened? Was it Anxiety's fault? Of course it was, who was he kidding?

Thomas had taken medication to be rid of him. Thomas wanted him gone. Anxiety couldn't...didn't...why?

The other three sides were still talking around him, but Anxiety didn't hear them, only heard the ringing in his head as the implications set in. They all wanted him gone. He'd left the others for this? 

They all wanted him dead.

How could he face Thomas now? How could he bear to stare at himself in the mirror, only seeing the people that had tried to get rid of him, a disorder?

That's all he was, a disease, an illness in the mind that only held them back and tore things apart. He wasn't made to be useful, he was made to destroy and for once he just wanted to create. He wanted to be Roman, to dream in colour and hope for a fairy tale ending. 

He wanted to be free of his burden and his pain and his anxiety. He wanted to be free of his name, a brand on him, bringing him down as he so desperately tried to escape.

But he was trapped, stuck in a place with people who tried to kill him, and finally Anxiety realised how little he actually meant to anyone.

He'd trusted them, in his own strange way. They hated him, but he put his trust in them anyway. Because it meant they saw him, they acknowledged him. What a foolish dream, what a stupid attempt to gain acceptance. He should have known.

Anxiety curled into himself and felt that static splinter into a thousand jagged pieces. He should have known.

.

Patton was the first to notice the movement, and instantly he rushed to Anxiety, reaching out to comfort him, to offer him a steady rock to the world. No doubt he was feeling disorientated and confused, and Patton didn't want him to be alone as they explained what was happening.

But Anxiety flinched back.

In that heartbeat, that painful, horrible second, Patton knew he'd heard.

He knew Roman and Logan were there beside him, just as sick and silent as him, but they could do nothing as they watched Anxiety dissolve into choking laughter, gasping for air as if his entire being was tearing apart and floating away.

The trust he had for them was gone, of that, Patton was sure. They'd tried to build it up, tried to coax him out of his shell and it had been working but now they were back to that morning when Anxiety had convinced himself that he really meant nothing at all.

That had been the morning that Patton's heart had broken for the first time and now he was feeling the hurt all over again, and he could nothing but stare at the side he had longed to protect but had only broken even more.

"Anxiety?" He breathed, stepping forward again. Anxiety shied away, his choked off breaths coming rapidly. Patton realised with horror that the side was spiraling into a panic attack. One of this magnitude would have affects on Thomas. Patton nodded to Logan. 'Thomas', he mouthed and Logan vanished instantly. "Kiddo, hey."

"Don't," Anxiety snarled breathlessly. "Don't touch me."

Patton reeled back slightly, feeling more than seeing Roman move closer to support him. "I'm sorry," the moral side said pathetically. 

Anxiety's laughter turned hysterical, and when he looked up at them, his eyes were wild and sharp. "Sorry?" He repeated angrily. "You're sorry? Tell me, what are you sorry for. For trying to kill me or for being caught?"

Roman moved in front of Patton, as if he could protect the parental side from Anxiety's words. "Don't blame Patton for something he had no part in," Roman warned, and Anxiety bared his teeth. "Logan made a mistake. Thomas was ill, and Logan did what he thought he had to."

"He thought he had to kill me?" Anxiety scrubbed at his face, and the motion seemed to scrape away the wall that was holding his tears back. They cascaded down his cheeks. "Get out."

Patton reached for him. "Kiddo-"

"Get out!"

Patton fled with tears in his eyes.