𝑀𝑜𝓍𝒾𝑒𝓉𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓉𝓈 (𝒮𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒮𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓈)

The voice inside

"They don't like you, Virgil... they never have, not really."

"You're pathetic."

"They don't care about you."

"Roman hates you."

"Logan thinks you're paranoid all of the time."

"Patton is only being nice because he feels sorry for you."

"Stop! Just... stop... please..." Would the little voice inside his head ever give him a break?! Just for once! The world around him seemed to move faster, while he was stuck in a loop of negative and self deprecating thoughts. Thoughts of things that never really made sense. Of course, Virgil's head wasn't the clearest, nor the tidiest, but his mind didn't have to play tricks and tell him things that weren't true. He didn't have to listen to them. He didn't have to believe any of them.

But he did.

Because that's the funny thing about being alone, left with your own thoughts. They tell you some funny and unrealistic things. Maybe Logan was right - maybe he is always paranoid. Roman probably does hate him. There had been more than a few disagreements between the two of them - nicknames that weren't always caused by friendly banter. Thomas, everyone, they had accepted him as one of their own. As a Light Side. So why did he feel so dark and dirty? Why did he feel... helpless?

"Because you are!"

"Stupid."

"Worthless!"

"Unwanted!"

"Virgil, you don't belong here - anywhere, even!"

"You are evil!"

"You're always the bad guy!"

"Stop it! I-I'm-I'm not always the b-bad guy... am I?" His voice trembled, croaking as the tears that had been welling in his eyes finally dropped and streaked his cheeks with watery blackness. His room grew darker, colder, and he forced himself not to think about how much of a failure he was. How much he was letting Thomas and the others down for being useless. They deserved so much more than he was - maybe it would be better if he just left... Ducked out again, let Thomas be free of his pointless panics. Deep down, Virgil knew he couldn't do that. That ducking out and avoiding his problems would make everything worse than they already were.

Virgil slammed his eyes shut, lifting a trembling hand to wipe away the grey mush trailing down his cheeks. He needed to figure out how to breathe again. Was he breathing? The Anxious trait pushed out a few gasps of air that he hadn't realised he had been keeping in for so long. A few more strangled sobs and gasps pushed past his dry, cracked lips. He pulled his knees closer to his chest, heavy with panic, burying his head between them.

It was like the walls were closing in, claustrophobic. The air was thinning, getting harder to breathe. Sweaty palms and nausea. His stomach rolled with sickness. His head fuzzed with lack of awareness, dizzy. Mouth dry, tongue like sandpaper. A rush of shivers travelled up his spine, a chill hanging in his lungs as he sucked in as much air as he could before it ran out. He was dying. Drowning. And he couldn't swim any longer.

"Kiddo?"

Great, now the taunting voice inside his head was starting to sound like Patton! Why was it torturing him with the voice of his crush? "G-get out of my h-head! I don't n-need you sounding like P-Patton... it's bad enough l-listening to myself!"

"Virgil, kiddo, can you open the door please... I'm not in your head, I'm outside."

It was then Virgil heard the concern in the voice inside his head, only that wasn't where it was coming from. How could he be so stupid? A bitter laugh crawled up his throat, tears dripping from his eyes to seep into the cracks of his trembling lips. He shook his head, not seeming to care that his bangs had fallen into his face, hiding his streaks of black and grey wetness dribbling down to collect at his chin. "Th-the door's open..." Virgil bit the inside of his cheek, cursing himself for sounding so weak. But this was Patton... his Patton, and his Patton wouldn't judge him... right?

"I heard crying and - Virgil?" The Moral trait's voice trailed off as he pushed open the door, wide eyes landing on a small, shivering lump slumped in the middle of the bed. "Hey..." It was clear that the room was a lot darker than usual, hardly any light to make out the mound on the bed, but Patton knew... he knew that the tiny blob was Virgil, shivering like a naked mole in winter. A sight that he never wanted to see.

Sobs echoed around the room, bouncing off one wall to the other, until eventually the entire space was engulfed with wails of panic and sorrow. It broke Patton's heart. Tore it apart and cut it up into tiny, microscopic, unidentifiable little pieces. What hurt Patton the most was the fact that Virgil had been suffering the panic and pain all by himself.

"I'm fine..." The older Side shuffled his way over to the bed, trying his best to push aside the fact that Virgil's duvet cover was adorned with 'Creepy crawly death dealers', and took a seat on the end of it.

"Now I know that you're not, otherwise you wouldn't be cooped up in here crying all on your own... would you, kiddo?" Patton raised an eyebrow of concern, worry flooding his eyes and the rest of his features. "Pass me your hand."

Virgil lifted his head slowly, eyes still firmly shut as he stretched out a shaking hand toward the other, who took it in his own and placed it flat against his chest. "Whuh-what are-"

"We're gonna do some breathing, all right? Follow my breathing, feel it." Patton held the other's hand close, looking him, not with pity, but with admiration. "You're so brave, Virge... Now, breathe in for four seconds, can you do that for me?"

In.

"Hold it for seven seconds."

Hold.

"And out for eight seconds."

Out.

"You're doing amazing. Concentrate on my voice. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere, okay? Breathe with me, Kiddo. I'm so proud of you."

Virgil listened. He listened for as long as he needed, for as long Patton kept talking, for as long as it took him until he calmed down, until he finally had the courage to open his eyes. His breathing, after a few exercises, was beginning to regulate to its natural rate, thanks to Patton.

"H-hi..." It was nothing but a meek whisper, croaked out words that only just managed to reach the others ears, causing a smile to creep up on the older trait's lips.

"Hey kiddo," he said in return, gently brushing the purple bangs from out of Virgil's sweaty face, earning a halfhearted smile. "How're you feeling?"

"Better now that you're here, Pat..." A soft blush sprung to Patton's cheeks which travelled all the way up to the tips of his ears. "I, um, I... thank you, though..."

Patton traced his thumb over Virgil's cheeks, wiping away the excess makeup and tears that continued to leak down from his eyes. "Do you want to talk about it? I've learned now that it's good to talk about our feelings... or we can wait for as long as you want until you're comfortable."

Virgil shook his head softly and lowered his gaze to his hands, seeming to find them more interesting. "Can we, um... agh, never mind I -"

"Can we what, kiddo?"

The Anxious trait bit at his lip, wiping at his eyes. "You don't have to... but, um, could we cuddle for a while?" He shook his head harder this time, face flushing red. "Nah, it's stupid -"

"Yes! Wait... yeah, we can - not that I, um, I mean... it's not stupid, Virgil... I'd love to." Patton shifted up from the end of the bed to shuffle beside Virgil, who turned to lay down as the older trait draped an arm over his stomach. "We can stay like this for as long as you want."

"Thank you."

Patton's warmth is safe. Patton's comfort is safe. Patton is safe.

You are safe.