Trials, Traits and Truth

Sins of the Father

A/N: TW: (major spoilers): it's pretty heavy here, with sadness and not feeling too good about yourself. Start of a big panic attack at the end.

Patton couldn't pinpoint the exact moment he had met Pitch.

It had seemed so gradual: minuscule changes every now-and-then that when experienced felt nearly undetectable. It could only be properly measured and appreciated if one scrolled way out, and looked from a distance with hindsight.

Patton had always had the tendency to cover up. He was there in Thomas, almost from the beginning: the first side to properly manifest and form in the mindscape. That, and his father-figure status had always made Patton strive to be a symbol of strength and consistency. It didn't matter how he was feeling, as long as Thomas was safe and happy.

In hindsight, Patton admitted to himself that this glaring character flaw had made him easy prey.

Somehow, Pitch had woven his way into Patton's life. First it was just a feeling of not enjoying the things he loved as much as he used to. Next was just a general fatigue. Lastly came the sleepless nights, hours spent lying in bed, just feeling sad.

Patton was ashamed. He'd broken his number one rule: always be honest.

He had lied so much, had hidden his feelings away in the name of strength to such an extent, that the part of him that represented 'truth' had literally split from him and manifested in its own right.

Patton had suspected this from the moment Tristan had formed. It was clear then that Virgil was more in tune with Thomas' feelings than, well, Thomas' actual feelings.

They were in a dark, dingy room. Apart from the wall Tristan and himself were secured against, Patton couldn't make out any other walls...or a door. Smoke and general darkness obscured them, but a distinct feeling of claustrophobia assured Patton that they were there.

Patton's wrists and ankles were shackled, with thick chains rooting him to the ground.

Tristan however, seemed to be trapped inside a box - Patton couldn't actually see it, but he could feel the dark energy there. Tristan was on the ground, unconscious.

Pitch was there, watching him carefully. He wore long, black robes. He was slightly taller than Patton, and had dark, coal-like eyes. His hair was thin and short, sticking up on edge. His face was thin and pointed. Patton was relieved that he looked nothing like Thomas: this monster was not a side.

"You've ignored the truth for too long Patton." Pitch said. There was a terrifying note of malice mixed with anticipation, and Patton recognised this as a very clear threat.

"How can I ignore him? He's right here!" Patton raised his arms to indicate to Tristan, the chains clinking and shackles digging into his wrists as he did so. He was aiming for 'cheery', trying to show his captor that he would not be intimidated so easily.

Pitch just laughed instead, and clapped his hands.

"Beautiful! Keep that up Patton, you're making this way too easy for me!"

Patton's eyes widened and he finally allowed his shaky smile to slip away. He hung his head, the weight of his situation weighing him down.

Pitch approached him, and lifted Patton's chin with a finger. Patton shivered and closed his eyes - this man was so cold.

Pitch's black eyes searched Patton's face, looking earnest and, disconcertingly, hungry.

"I'm not a bad guy, Patton. I am simply Reality - "

"No." Patton opened his eyes sharply and recoiled. "No. You're not Reality. I refuse to believe that."

Pitch walked away, now really laughing. Patton looked to Tristan, starting to panic and feeling very alone. The new side didn't stir, and a lump formed in Patton's throat.

"You know, my first instinct was to go for Virgil." Pitch conjured a simple chair and sat down facing him, clasping his chin in reflection. His tone was almost conversational. Patton snapped his head around to look him in the eyes again, his heartbeat picking up.

"You - you made him sick! YOU - "

"No Patton." Pitch's smirk was positively evil. "You." He was calm, contemplative. Patton's breathing was becoming erratic with...rage? Shame?

"I did go for Virgil at first. But, he was always far to vocal to Thomas with his concerns. I wasn't really able to get through to him. Then, I saw you guys perform the nostalgia videos!"

Patton gulped, and leaned back slightly so his back was against the wall.

"It clicked for me then! To get to Thomas, I would have to exhaust Virgil to the extent where I could have an effect on him. What better way to do that for him to be eternally on-guard for something that Thomas would refuse to recognise! Or at least, you would..."

Patton felt sick as he remembered the graph - the data. Logan had said that the decisions and concerns Virgil was raising were unreasonable...but Virgil had known - had said - that something was off with Thomas, he had said it wasn't his fault...

Pitch smiled gleefully at Patton's growing expression of horror and guilt.

"Got there, finally, did you?"

"I was just trying to protect him..." Patton managed, his voice sounding small.

"Thing is, that's not you job."

Patton closed his mouth and blinked the tears from his eyes,

Thing was...Pitch was right. It was Virgil's job to protect Thomas, to protect all of them. Virgil could sense something was terribly wrong - fundamentally wrong - but in the absence of facts that proved there was a tangible threat - that he, Patton, had known about - Virgil had been forced to assume the danger was coming from everything.

"Poor Virgil." Pitch actually did sound a little sad.

Patton got a dark feeling of foreboding and he lifted his head again.

"Is he...is he going to...?" It was more of a sob than a question.

Pitch rose from his chair and it dissipated into smoke. As he approached him, Patton slid down the wall til he was in a sitting position, face in his hands.

"Shhhh..." Pitch soothed, stroking Patton's hair. To his glee, Patton didn't recoil, but seemed to lean into the touch. "No, of course not."

Patton nodded slightly, not daring to let a sound escape.

"He's still far too strong."

Patton froze, breath caught in his throat. He could feel himself shaking.

"I think it's about time that he finally gets to do his actual job, yes?"

Patton finally pulled his face out of his hands and looked up cautiously, eyes watery.

Pitch held his gaze, looking impossibly sincere. He snapped his fingers, and the darkness behind him shifted slightly: revealing a transparent Virgil.

Patton locked eyes with the terrified side and let out a strangled yell.

"It's okay Virgil! Everything's going to be fine - "

Pitch growled and slapped that Father figure, hard, across his face. His glasses flew off his face at the impact and Patton heard them smash on the ground nearby, though at this point he didn't care too much.

"STOP LYING TO HIM."

Virgil sucked in his breath, frozen to his spot, obviously not able to move. His eyes were frantic. Pure panic and dread and rage and sadness and and and....and anxiety, took over Virgil.

Virgil woke up, in his little makeshift bed in the living room, and began to have by far the biggest panic attack in his life.