Tomorrow | Sanders Sides

Chapter 8

The three of them sat in horrified silence for a good long while.

Virgil was still, his eyes staring vacantly at the table, even when Roman reached across and tapped his cheek gently. Logan sat, apparently unruffled, with his hands steepled in front of his mouth thoughtfully. He hadn't taken offense from Patton's rather aggressive outburst, and so he needed less time to comprehend the situation and then begin to analyse.

"There is something very wrong," he said eventually, and Prince shot him a half-hearted glare.

"Really?"

Logan sighed and adjusted his glasses and Roman continued to try and get Virgil out of whatever state Patton's words had put him in. It was useless, because Virgil was very far away from them right now, lost somewhere Roman couldn't reach him.

Logan motioned for Princey to leave Virgil alone for now. "He needs time to deal," he explained easily when Roman looked confused. "Just let him be for now, he'll come back to us eventually."

"What do we do about Patton?" Roman asked, and there was no bravado in his voice. "He's never...blown up like that."

It took Logan a second to comprehend the idiom. "Yes. I believe it was simply a result on his ongoing repression. He gets troubled easily, and usually tends to ignore the need to address such troubles. He likes to be positive and he hates to focus on the negative, leading to a situation like this where all his negativity becomes too much for him and he has to let it out somehow."

Roman didn't look quite convinced, but he acquiesced with a small nod.

Virgil twitched slightly, his eyes coming into focus rather rapidly. His hands were shaking, Logan noticed that almost instantly, despite the fact that Virgil was pressing them into the table hard enough for his wrist to crack. His fingers were white with the pressure, his shoulders hunched up.

"Virgil?" Roman's voice was careful, his touch gentle as he brushed it against the anxious side's shoulder. "Virgil, are you okay?"

Virgil didn't make any drastic movements like nod, but Logan noted that his entire body was trembling now, wracked with minute shivers. Panic attack.

He leaned forward, using his own hand to nudge Roman's away. He kept his arms in Virgil's view and kept his voice soothing as he said, "Virgil, listen to me. You're okay. You're safe. You're having a panic attack." Princey made a small noise. Logan continued, drawing what he'd learned after extensive research performed after the whole 'anxiety pills' incident. "Do you remember your breathing exercises? In for four seconds-" he waited for Virgil to follow his instruction, "-hold for seven seconds. Out for four seconds. Good job, Virgil, you are doing well."

He made sure Virgil was continuing the pattern as he slowly laid his hands on top of the ones pressed into the table. Virgil's breathing stuttered at the contact, but Logan urged him to keep counting.

Gradually, Virgil's breathing eased. Logan kept his hands where they were, allowing the anxious side to choose what to do from here. Virgil didn't ask him to shift his hands away.

"Sorry," he mumbled, sinking into his hoodie once he'd regained his composure. Embarrassment was plastered all over him. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I overreacted."

Roman offered his hand, and Virgil allowed him to place it on the junction between his shoulder and his neck. "There's nothing to be sorry for," Roman promised earnestly. "I fight dragon witches, you fight panic attacks. There's different kinds of bravery, Virgil."

Virgil let out a long breath before looking up at Logan. The logical trait didn't press the fact that Virgil couldn't quite meet his eyes. "Thanks Logan."

"It's no issue. I took it upon myself to learn about panic attacks after the...earlier incident in which I instigated harmful actions due to ignorance. Roman is correct. There is no shame in having a panic attack, especially as you are Thomas's anxiety."

Virgil shifted slightly, but otherwise gave no indication that he was uncomfortable. "Still," he said. "We need to help Patton. If he's talking to Deceit, then something is definitely wrong."

Logan sighed and went to remove his hands. Virgil gripped on tightly, and studiously refused to meet his eyes. Logan just let his hands stay where they were. "Patton is at risk, yes. He is the heart of Thomas's emotion, while also encompassing his morality. If Patton is compromised by strengthened negative emotions, then Thomas's moral compass may also be affected and that is something we can't afford. Not while Deceit is steadily engraining himself in the forefront of Thomas's mind."

"Wow," Roman muttered, nudging Virgil slightly with a grin. "And you guys say that I'm the dramatic one." It worked, Virgil's lips quirked upwards.

Logan simply raised an eyebrow. "You are the dramatic one."

Roman emitted some kind of offended noise, and Virgil sniggered slightly. Logan remained impassive, but not cold enough to hide the beginnings of a smug smile.

"Now," Virgil said, quietly determined. "About Patton."

.

Patton was not having a good time.

Guilt was swamping him, looming over him like a wave that was almost cresting. He would drown in it, he really would.

He heard an almost-silent hiss and felt that same poisonous anger race through him, spinning him into that grey cloud in his mind where nothing really mattered. "Go away!" He shouted to the shadows where that slippery snake hid. "You've already poisoned me enough! I do not need you hissing in my ear! You got what you wanted, leave me be!"

There was a small, victorious laugh before Deceit disappeared, leaving Patton to fall onto his bed and cry.

.

Thomas was in the middle of cooking when he felt the overwhelming urge to just curl into a little ball and cry. It was strange, but strong, and so he turned off the stove and sat on the sofa. He felt...vacant, almost, like his emotions weren't really there. he was disconnected from his body.

He called Joan, because who else would he call besides one of his closest friends.

"What's up Sanders?"

Thomas just sat, with the phone pressed to his ear, and cried.