Trials, Traits and Truth

Grey Skies

Roman woke to the sound of a marker on a whiteboard, and someone muttering quietly to themselves. He winced as he opened his eyes just a smidge - the light from the lamp in the corner feeling like just too much.

Roman's head was throbbing, and he felt as though he had been hit by a truck. The thick feeling of failure and dread weighed in on his stomach like cement, unforgivably reminding him of the ordeals of the previous day.

The three of them had rematerialised early afternoon in the mindscape living room, but Roman had been utterly shocked that it hadn't been much later. Surely their time in the dreamscape had lasted at least a week? Not, like, an hour.

Roman's stomach growled, and he turned over in his spot on the couch so he could see the clock on the wall - it was just gone 6am.

They hadn't had dinner the night before. After the initial chaos of their arrival, Roman and Logan had settled into a deadpanned routine. Roman took care of their bloody clothes, and Logan had cared for Virgil. Virgil had developed a concerning fever, and was incredibly weak. He hadn't spoken much after the initial chaos, he hadn't really had the energy to react at all.

Virgil hadn't in fact, been completely unconscious throughout the...incident. He had been too weak to really respond or even open his eyes. Virgil had been able to recall parts of what had been said when the other two were unconscious, and that included the enemy's name.

When their usual dinner time ticked around, Roman had found himself sitting at the table, almost subconsciously. After spending five minutes or so lost in thought, Logan had come across him.

"When we get him back, we should probably cook for him for a change." Logan hadn't sounded judgmental, but had correctly guessed that Roman was struggling to comprehend the loss of Patton to...to whatever the hell was going on.

With these words, Roman registered finally that Patton was gone, losing his appetite and starting to cry instead.

They all had gone to bed rather early after that, all in varying states of shock.

Now, as Roman found the strength to fully open his eyes, he was that Logan had been very busy.

He had wheeled in two massive whiteboards, and set them up side-by-side along the blank wall. He was scribbling fiercely, his back to Roman.

The Prince turned his head to check on Virgil. The boy had all but disappeared underneath a tonne of blankets, but Roman could see he was sound asleep on the mattresses next to him. There was a wet cloth carefully placed on his forehead.

Roman turned back to the whiteboards, feeling his brain starting to kick in and shake off his sleepiness. The first one had been divided into six smaller squares, labelled each with a name of each of the sides and Thomas. Various things were scribbled into each square, things Roman judged to be dates, facts, and timelines. The second whiteboard was ruled into four separate columns, each headlined: Timeline; Plot; Short Term Ideas; Long Term Ideas.

Roman groaned as he got to his feet, shrugging his own blankets off him. Logan finally halted in his writing and spun to face him.

Logan looked as if he'd not rested in a week. There were dark bags under his eyes, and stress lines on his face. He looked fairly manic.

"Good Morning Roman, how are you feeling?" He whispered, speaking a little quicker than usual.

Roman yawned and stretched his neck to try and subtly see what Logan had written under his name, but Logan was obstructing his view.

"As good as I can be, I suppose." He replied, shrugging. "I think I got at least a few hours sleep. Are you working on a plan?" He tried to keep his tone light.

Logan frowned and Roman instantly regretted his choice of words.

"Remember that you're more than that, and that you've got to give yourself time to process things too." He added quickly, trying to avoid the inference that Logan was indifferent or unaffected.

Logan just sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"I think we need to check on Thomas, when he wakes up. We'll have to really closely monitor him today...this is rather unprecedented territory."

Roman nodded. They knew that the other two were more or less physically intact and functioning - not only were their doors still there, but it didn't 'feel' like they had clocked out all-together.

Logan turned back to the whiteboard, and Roman squinted to read his small, neat writing.

Tristan was the first square, in the top, left hand corner. Underneath his name was: the time and date he had formed; Logan's general guess as to when he had started to form; what he represented; and the date and time that he had been taken.

Roman swallowed. The word beneath that was 'compromised' in red marker.

"I used 'compromised' as a term to indicate whether the subject has been infected, influenced, or otherwise 'touched' by Pitch."

Logan had correctly guessed and promptly answered Roman's query.

Underneath Tristan's square was Patton's, with similar information. Underneath 'compromised' was the phrase 'patient zero?'.

Roman didn't even want to read Virgil's square, beneath Patton's. Unlike the others, it was completely crammed with information about Virgil's illness and concerning factors. The red word was crammed in right at the bottom.

In the other column, Thomas and Logan's squares just said 'to be assessed'.

"What do you know about me?" Roman asked softly, now conscious that Logan was very deliberately blocking his line of sight.

Logan stiffened, but turned to face him again. He looked...nervous? Sad? Tired?

"You...you might want to sit down." Logan shifted slightly and Roman saw a flash of red in his box.

He felt like throwing up, then panicked even more at what that might mean.

Logan gently picked up a small hand mirror off the coffee table, and gave it to the Prince carefully.

"To be fair...I think it's a look you could pull off?" Logan was scared, and really trying to do his best.

When Logan had finally given up any hope of getting sleep, he had almost absent-minded checked on his two counterparts. He had nearly lost it, finally, upon laying eyes on Roman's slumbering figure. He had felt more alone than ever, and incredibly on-guard - to think that he was the only side clearly untouched by their enemy...it made him feel completely lost.

Roman didn't even react when he saw his reflection. Logan found this in itself incredibly troubling - where was the outrage? The passion?

Roman's complexion was ashen. His eyes had lost their almost cartoonish sparkle. But the biggest and most noticeable change, was to his pride and joy.

The Prince's hair was limp, dead-looking, and the colour of the dullest, most uninspiring shade of grey.