Romangst || A Sanders Sides One-Shot Compilation

Virgil was Virgil was Virgil

Hey guys! This is a pretty short, pretty intense, pretty sad whump fic! Also some intense Unsympathetic Virgil - so if you don't like that, stop reading.

WARNINGS: Rape/non-con, non-consensual drugging, dissociation, manipulation, depression, Unsympathetic Virgil, Toxic Prinxiety, whump, angst, Unhappy/Open ending

Enjoy it!

Roman stared up at the ceiling, though he didn't really see it. Everything just seemed so... distant. Unreal. Like he was in a dream, or like he was watching his own life through a frosted pane of glass.

He dimly registered the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand, but his limbs felt like stone and he didn't even try to move. The buzzing stopped after a few minutes, and then picked up again as whoever it was called him again. Odd. It must be someone he knew... that is if he was even real. Was he real? Was anything real? Roman didn't know. He didn't know anything, he didn't feel anything...

He blocked out the buzzing, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Everything just seemed so... pointless. He was going to die someday, wasn't he? Was he even going to change the world at all? Probably not. Everything was falling apart, and nothing he could do would hold it together. It was useless to even try.

"Hey, Princey!" Roman jumped, finally moving, finally seeming to see through his own eyes, when someone knocked on his window.

He rolled over, realizing that he'd been lying on the floor - not his bed - and that Virgil was standing on the fire escape, eyebrow raised expectantly. Of course, he was on the fire escape, he never came to the door like a normal person. Virgil was always weird like that.

Virgil was Virgil was Virgil.

Roman forced himself up, pulling the window open to let Virgil inside.

"What's up?" He asked - though he didn't recognize his own voice. Virgil pulled him to the bed, frowning worriedly.

"You didn't answer your phone and I got worried." Virgil huffed, grabbing it from Roman's nightstand. "It's not dead, what's going on?"

"Uh..." Roman blinked, trying to focus enough on himself to respond. Virgil frowned deeper at this, brushing his bangs out of his face to see Roman better. "Sorry."

"You look like shit." Virgil frowned, dropping Roman's phone on his pillow and leaning over, cupping his face in his hands. Roman jolted uncertainly at the contact, warmth spreading through him from where Virgil's skin made contact. Virgil was always warm.

Virgil was Virgil was Virgil.

"Ah, sorry, um..." Roman shook his head, pulling away and combing his hair back. "I didn't, uh... mean to ignore your calls."

"Dude, what's going on?" Virgil asked. "You aren't acting like yourself."

"Oh." Roman sighed, slumping against his friend's shoulder. Virgil wrapped an arm around his shoulders and Roman's body trembled, surprised at the familiar gesture.

It was familiar, wasn't it? They sat like this a lot, on movie nights and just when hanging out.

"How are you feeling?" Virgil asked gently.

"Uh... I'm not..." Roman frowned, trying to identify any emotion only to find that he felt like an endless void, nothing but fog swirling within him. "I don't... feel anything."

"Okay..." Virgil breathed deeply, and Roman copied him out of habit. "Emotionally?"

"Uh... yeah." Roman sighed and turned to bury his face in Virgil's shoulder. He was warm, solid. Not the kind of solid his floor was, cold and aloof. Virgil was solid and grounding and warm and... familiar. It was familiar, wasn't it? He knew Virgil, he'd known Virgil for years. They were best friends.