When You're Broken On The Ground

Chapter 7

Patton

Thomas, pale, in the hospital bed. He had been beaten in an alleyway, no way of knowing who had done it. He was dead for two minutes before they were able to bring him back for the rest of the surgery.

And then came Dee's panicked call about Virgil. Virgil, who they all knew was taking anti-depressants, who they all knew had had suicidal thoughts in the past, who with just one harsh tap could turn their years of progress. Virgil, who is so strong and stubborn and loyal, but was more fragile than glass when it comes to his mental health. Virgil, who tried to commit suicide and would have succeeded if not for the others. 

Patton looked down at Virgil's still body on the hospital bed next to Thomas.

"You should have known," the familiar voice in his head whispers. "You failed him. You failed both of them."

"How could I have known?" Patton points out weakly.

"You're the dad, you should have just known. If not Thomas at least Virgil. You're the one who found him first, the one who has known the longest about his mental health. You should have seen the signs, you should have been more positive!"

"I should have been positive," Patton repeats brokenly.

"Yessssss." 

"I'm so stupid!" Patton cries out, collapsing on the floor. He stares at the tiles, his tears dripping onto a slightly broken one. "I'm supposed to keep everyone together, keep them happy."

"Yesssssss."

"I failed at the one thing I can actually do."

"Yesssssssssss."

"It'd be better if they just found someone else, someone more positive."

"Of course."

"It'd be best for them if I just... disappear...."

"The pills," the voice whispers in his ear. "The pills."

"The pills," Patton hollowly repeats, standing up. He shuffles to the cabinet, opening it and easily finding the bottle. Sitting down on the couch, he pops the lid and swallows all of the ones in the container. 

Slowly, a fuzziness spreads from him heart outwards, taking over his chest- his arms are like lead- maybe he should lay down... his legs aren't moving... what's that smooth thing... against his face... Where'd the cold come.. from... his head is.... heavy..... maybe...... a rest....... yes, a rest.......

Emile

"No no no no!" Was the only thought in his head when Remy called him about Thomas. He cried when he saw Virgil's pale lifeless body, coming back to see Thomas and instead seeing two of his friends in white hospital beds. And when Patton....

He choked on his tears, curled up on his bed. Why- why did Virgil do it? And Patton, Patton is so strong, why, how? Why?

"Because you failed them," a voice whispers.

"H-how?" Emile asks, wiping his eyes dry with his sleeve. "How could I have known?"

"You want to be a therapist, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, you failed miserably at it. You know Virgil is fragile, and yet you never considered that he would try suicide. And dear Patton. Dear lovable Patton. Dear lovable, sweet Patton." The voice develops a sneer. "Dear lovable, sweet, emotional Patton. Of course he would blame himself, of course he would drown his feelings."