Chapter Text
Virgil’s breath staggers out weakly as he limps towards an empty alleyway.
Why am I acting like this? I should be used to this by now. He finds a section that’s just barely less grimy than the rest; falling to his knees and clutching his side tightly. They really went all out this time, didn’t they? He gingerly lifts a black and purple patchwork hoodie to reveal a colorful bruise beginning to blossom where there’s at least one broken rib.
The sweet scent of pastries wafts past as a cruel reminder of what Virgil knows he can never have. His gaze falls emptily on the stained brick wall once more as his consciousness is stolen. Because life is anything but kind.
***
Patton whistles some random Disney tune joyously as he packs up the final pastry for home. While locking up the Patt -isserie, Patton giggles to himself at the clever pun, beginning his leisurely stroll to his light blue car, like he does everyday everyday.
The air tenses as labored breathing floats from the alleyway next to his bakery. Patton skulks toward the source of the noise. Patton startles at the sight of a small, crippled figure slumped unmovingly against the brick wall. He inhales sharply as he rushes toward them, all self-preservation seemingly forgotten. Slight relief takes Patton after checking for vitals, finding a faint pulse.
“Hey there kiddo, sorry ‘bout this, but you gotta come with me.” Patton winces as he feels the slender form this boy hides through his thick hoodie as he lifts the broken form and hastily carries him bridal style to his car. Patton lays him delicately in the back seat and elevates his head with a spare pillow- you always need a pillow in case of a surprise road trip!
He shuffles through his pocket and finds his blue and white checkered phone, “Uh, hey there Logan, strange question but do you know any first aid?”
***
“Greetings Pat- oh my gods, what happened!” Roman stops dead in his tracks as he spots the person in Patton arms. “Who is that, are they okay!?” Patton ignores the bombardment of questions and marches towards the bedroom where Logan should be.
“Patton, lay him on the bed, please.” Logan requests as Patton bursts into the room. Patton gently lays the man down as he inspects the room.
The walls were a vertical rainbow gradient with black and white accents, two king sized beds, one an intricate design of purple and red the other consisting of a dark to light blue gradient, each with matching pillows. There was a singular shared nightstand with a lamp and clock resting atop it, with multiple other dressers scattered about the room in an organized fashion. A bookcase stood tall, overflowing with a colorful array of books ranging from childrens to encyclopedias to murder mysteries. The only difference from when he left to now being the menacingly shining medical materials now splayed across the nightstand, Logan sitting stiffly beside them in a white chair close to the blue bed.
Roman entered the room shortly after Patton did, and sat beside him on the purple and red mattress. He decided against pressing for answers at the moment, for Patton looked as if he were about to burst into tears, which he soon did. Nonetheless, Roman’s mind still raced with unspoken questions. For the moment however, he stood supporting Patton’s weight, leading him out of the room so Logan could work in peace. He would continue wondering who that was and what happened, but he couldn’t help with that, all that matters now is that Patton’s hurting, and Roman could help that.
***
Logan observed solemnly as Roman guided Patton out of the room while he sobbed into his shoulder. The sight of the emaciated boy distressed Logan as well, but there would be time for moping later, as of now he had a crucial job to do with a child who appeared about to be about nineteen, Roman’s age . The occupants of the cheerful woodland cottage were all close in age, with him and Patton slightly older at twenty-one. However, now was certainly not the time to contemplate that this young boy, resembling Roman so closely, was now laying on his bed broken and beaten.
Logan made quick work of undressing the boy and supplying him with a pair of shorts so he could properly address the wounds. He let out a sharp hiss at the sight of this poor child. The sight before him was sickening, the boy looking as if he were lifeless if not for the shallow movements of his chest. His soft ashen skin harshly interrupted with vibrant shades of black, blue, purple, yellow, and red. The query of how these injuries were sustained must be postponed for another time, as speculation would lead them no further to the truth and would delay the treatment that this child so direly required.
Logan gently felt the more prominent wounds to assess any internal damage. Thankfully, there was no internal bleeding as far as Logan could tell, but that wasn’t the case for external bleeding. The teen would require multiple stitches. As far as the skeletal system, there were multiple broken bones that Logan could feel. The left tibia, radius, and ulna, ribs three through five, and his nose were all broken in some way. As there wasn’t anything a doctor could that he couldn’t for these injuries, except for giving them stronger pain medicines or a nerve blocker, they would not be going, they also didn’t know if this boy could pay for any appointment. Logan sighed as he began sterilizing and suturing the considerable lacerations oozing with scarlet fluid as it flowed through his shriveled form. This poor boy is going to be in so much pain when he awakes. Logan sighed, knowing that there’s a long recovery ahead of this child.
***
Virgil groggily awakes, struggling to open his heavy eyelids. So soft and warm. Wait, soft and warms? Virgil shoots up, then regrets it instantly as shooting pains flow through his body, letting out a yelp. As he gazes about this unfamiliar space, he realizes that his wounds have been treated and he’s missing his hoodie. In fact, he’s missing all of his clothes and in their place a pair of shorts reaching his mid-thigh, he realized as he hastily pulled the blanket over his pale skin. His thoughts run rampant.
‘Where am I, what happened, I thought I died-wow I can’t even do that right-so pathetic, I really can’t do anything, they were right-.’ His spiral was cut short as he saw the door begin to open and he froze with fear. Virgil instinctively curled into himself, which wasn’t a very good idea considering his condition. Patton, Roman and Logan walked in, but he didn’t see them- no, he saw his ’family’. He shot backwards, pressing himself into the backboard of the bed, he whimpered as they came closer. His memory shot back to those days before he was forced out of his home, no, that house was not his home, and those people were not his family.
Virgil snuck out of his room, careful to not make a sound. He cautiously slunk down the staircase, avoiding the boards that squeaked. He had learned that his guardians were awoken easily, and that their tempers flared easier. Virgil hid in the shadows as he made his way to the kitchen, spotting a clock which showed him that it was to early for either of them to be awake. He opened the fridge soundlessly as he scoured for any small morsel of food. Virgil froze as a door could be heard creaking open. He whips around just in time to see his mother’s thin figure leaning on the doorframe.
“What are you doing up this early, hon? And looking through the fridge? You should know better than that by now, sweetums.” Her sickeningly sweet voice rang through his head. She approached smoothly, as if she were floating in her bright white nightgown. “Come on hon, let’s go back up to your room.” She gripped his arm roughly as she dragged his limp body up the stairs, as if he were a young child's ragdoll.
“B-but I’m hung-.”
“Shhh, we don’t want to wake up daddy, do we?” She interrupted, seemingly kind words hiding a threat. The angelic appearing woman with luminescent blonde hair hurled him into his room and locked the door behind her. Leaving him alone with his growling stomach and growing bruises.
“-ey, it’s okay kiddo, I’m here, you said you were hungry? We can get you food.” The man with curly blond and pastel blue hair matching his light blue polo had a gray cardigan draped over his shoulders spoke gently. A pair of thick circular cat-eye glasses framed his round face. The man’s hair was the same shade of breathtaking blond as his female guardian’s, which sent a fresh wave of fear washing over him. “Just relax and let go, you’re fine, you’re safe here.” Virgil realized that he had been pulling his hair as he slowly detangled his hands. He raised his hands to his face and brought them back down, surprised to see moisture on them. His nails dug hard into his palms, sending droplets of blood cascading down his skin. The three men shared a worried glance that Virgil missed, to consumed with panicking in this unfamiliar environment with strange people. Virgil locked eyes with the startling blue ones before him, filled with concern and innocence. “Can I touch you?” The man asked in his slightly high, bubbly voice, overflowing with warmth and kindness.
After a moment's hesitation, Virgil nodded his head, to overwhelmed to properly respond. This man grabbed his now bloodied hand- ’ great, I’m contaminating this pure man with my filth’ -and placed it on his warm chest as he began to over exaggerate his breathing. “In for four, hold for seven, out for eight, okay? You don’t have to keep track kiddo, I’ll do that, you just try to copy my breathing.” Virgil tried to follow but was exhaling when this man got to three. This minor failure to others was devastating to him, at least in this state. “Hey now kiddo, it’s fine. All I’m asking is that you try, it’s fine if you fail.” The man encouraged him with a blinding child-like grin. After repeating this pattern for a few minutes, Virgil regained enough composure to see clearly.
Before him stood three men. His description of the one directly in front of him was surprisingly accurate, failing to mention the freckles that drew galaxies across the bridge of his nose, dimples, and the ever present blush that colored his plump cheeks pink.
Behind him stood an intimidating man with an indifferent expression painted on his face, black rectangular glasses that framed the sharp angles of his face, jet black hair perfectly parted, and a black button up with a dark blue tie.
Standing slightly in front of this man stood a man in a tight white shirt with an open red leather jacket, concern drawn on his face, auburn hair swept to the side displaying a two inch undershave, which left locks that could be pulled into a messy bun now just barely brushed out of his face, and a beauty mark in the center of his left cheek. The tallest of them being the auburn haired with a slightly muscular structure. Followed closely in height was the stone faced man, tall and healthily slim, unlike himself who was slim for a different reason. The shortest of them being the child-like man, with a chubby frame and approachable presence.
Virgil himself was skeleton-like with a too pale complexion, standing about a head under the tallest, placing him just above the blond man on the height scale. Mismatched eyes, the right being a dark green and the left a striking purple, with hair matching the latter. His hand bolted up to confirm that his hair was blocking his purple eye. He was ridiculed and gawked at in school, when he still went that is, for his heterochromia. His black eye bags framing his exposed eye as he wept. Thousands of freckles dotted their way across the bridge of his nose faintly, like a nights sky, yet unlike the the blond man’s, whose were more prominent and nearer to the hundreds in number.
“So kiddo, now that you seem to be feeling better, I’d say introductions are in order!” The man’s voice brimmed with a child-like excitement, though he contained which Virgil was grateful for. “I’m your ol’ happy pappy Patton! Patton Heart, but many of my kiddos call me dad!” He exclaimed in a slightly raised voice.
“No one calls you that,” Logan continued over the over-exaggerated whine, “Salutations, my name is Logan Berry and you may call me as such.” The man in a tie chimed in monotonously.
“Greetings,” the final man dramatically proclaimed, causing Virgil to flinch. He appeared to notice and continued sheepishly, in a lowered volume. “I’m Roman Prince, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“I-I’m Vi-,” he swallowed thickly and began again. “I’m Virgil Storm.” Virgil anxiously awaited their response, having an unusual name had never helped any situation before. His gaze flickered to the brunette, Roman , he told himself, and locked eyes with his dark brown ones.
“You really live up to your name, my dark and stormy knight.” He said with exaggerated hand movements and a wink. Virgil let out a puff of air through his nose. His eyes widened as he realized this was the closest to a laugh he had done since the incident.
Roman and Logan came further into the room sitting beside Patton on the bed with him and the white chair still pulled up, respectively.
“So, would you care to explain the reason why our dear Patton here found you half-dead in the alleyway next to his bakery, Virgil?” Logan questioned with his impassive monotone voice. All eyes were on him, waiting patiently, not pressuring him to answer.
“Well, you see,” Virgil began, unsure of how much to share with these strangers. He decided upon the bare minimum. “I was walking, and a group of people recognized me from a while back. Let’s just say they weren’t very pleased with having to see me again.” Virgil explained as he let out a dry laugh devoid of humor. Logan spotted this lie of omission and struggled to not proclaim this falsehood. It was understandable that this man may be hesitant to share information with them, for they were mere acquaintances. He knew that eventually, the truth would reveal itself, as it always would. For one can never uphold a web of lies long before they become tangled.
***
The week progressed uneventfully as the men each tried to assist Virgil in many ways. It seemed Roman was back with a new set of questions to ask. These interrogations normally ended whenever Virgil's vague answer masked by sarcasm made the other teen too irritated to continue, but he never got angry at Virgil and seemed good-natured enough about it. Virgil would take the fun he so rarely got when talking ot people.
“So, do you have anyone for us to call?” Roman queried.
“No, I live alone.” Virgil hastily responded, not a complete lie, but not the full truth.
“So no parents, siblings even?” Virgil froze at the mention of parents.
“Those people were not my parents.” He thought, not realizing he’s spoken his thoughts until Roman went silent. Virgil’s eyes went wide.
“Those people?” Roman parroted back with a tilted head, his tone softened. “What do you mean by that?” Virgil supposed he couldn’t climb out of this hole he’d dug, so he did the sensible thing to do.
Run.
Which meant he attempted to hobble to the bathroom, which caused immense pain. Virgil let out a yelp as his knees painfully buckled, causing Roman to dive forward to catch him. Roman swiftly lifted him and plopped him onto the bed.
“I can see you are hesitant to tell me, but please don’t harm yourself avoiding a question.” Roman sighed disapprovingly. Virgil mind traveled to the day of the incident, the day he lost everything he held dear as he recounted his memory to Roman
Virgil had just arrived home from his first day in second grade, excited to share the tale of the rubber ball disaster as he threw open his door.
“Mommy, Daddy I’m home!” He shouted out into the house. Virgil was met with silence. Shrugging off his backpack by the doorway, he began walking about his house. The final room to lay unchecked was the master bathroom, which greeted him with a pungent scent. He slowly creaked the door open and was met with a horrid sight for anyone, especially seven year old child. His parents lay on the ground, unrecognizable, their bodies contorted unnaturally in pools of scarlet. The once beautiful pale flesh now torn into violently, leaving nothing but mounds of pink carnage, hardly recognizable as humans. The only signifier to Virgil that these were once his parents being the wedding rings laying next to a note on the counter.
“We love you Vir”- The note abruptly stopped.
Virgil’s mismatched eyes filled with tears as he registered that his loving parents used their last moments to write this for him. He stuffed the note into his pocket and ran, he ran until he could run no more. Tears poured down his face as he curled up against a tree in a park his parents were going to take him to later today. He wept until there were no more tears to weep. The park was directly down the street from the recent crime scene. Blue and red filled his vision as police cars drove past, one stopping in front of him.
“Hey little guy, what's your name?” The uniformed women kindly began.
“V-V-Virgil.” He managed to stutter out. “Virgil, that’s a pretty name. Could you tell me who lives in that house up there?” She spoke gently in a soft voice. “I-I do, m-my parents d-did too. I-I saw them, i-in the b-bathroom.” He choked out between gasps. “Oh my, come with me sweetheart. We need to ask you a few questions.” The next few hours blurred together as a myriad of questions were slung at him. He was brought to an adoption agency, where he soon met his guardians.
But that was a story for another time.
He forced himself to meet Roman's burning gaze. As he steeled himself for the pitiful expression, he was surprised when he found tears and sorrow instead.
“Are you alright, Roman?” Virgil asked lamely. Roman stared at Virgil, shaken that this man of endless wit and sarcastic comments, sat before him gushing tears and shaking. His cries were choked back, causing his chest to rise and fall sporadically. The silent tears trailing down his face caused Roman to have a pit of inexplicable pain form in his stomach. Only years of hiding this pain could make Virgil display this expertise of silence. Roman lunged forward, before stopping just before touching Virgil, after watching him flinch back violently. It stung to have this teen he considered a friend, as living with someone near your age for a week will do, look at him with pure terror swimming in his eyes.
“Can I hug you, please.” Roman pled, dropping his confident facade. Virgil nodded his head after a moment of contemplation. Roman closed the gap between them and caught Virgil in the first real hug he has had since he left for school that day. Tears and snot poured from Virgil as he finally broke, melting into the hug. He sobbed and sobbed until he could sob no more. Roman became a lifeline to Virgil. Virgil clung to him as if he would dissipate, revealing this all as a figment of his cruel imagination the second he was released. Roman remained fixed to Virgil, needing this as well, feeling distressed by the sheer amount of pain he had hidden. The embrace was broken by the purple haired teen, after mumbling a thanks and wiping his face on his sweater sleeve. It was only a few minutes in reality, but they were exhausted afterwards, as emotions could be draining. Roman knew he would have to inform Logan and Patton, but that could wait. It was late, so he and Virgil crawled under the covers. Roman pulled Virgil close against his chest, he didn’t protest, too tired and desperate for kind touch, having grown accustomed to those ruthless in category. He tucked his head into the crook of Roman’s shoulder and fell asleep without nightmares for the first time since he lost everything he cherished.
***
“Fine, I guess I’ll go check on sunshine.” Roman remarks, annoyed at the lack of answers and plentitude of sarcasm they had been receiving from him. In Romans defense, he just wanted to help this mesmerizing boy, and he was being very uncooperative. Virgil seemed to think he was a bother, and tried to do everything himself, which just brought him pain.
“Hey now, play nice princey.” Patton scolds, “You don’t know what he’s been through.”
“Patton is correct, Roman. He appears to have been through a lot, there were more scars that just those recently sustained.” He exchanges a worried glance with Patton.
“Fine mom and dad , I’ll be nice, I’m just annoyed that doom and gloom keeps avoiding my questions, but it’s fine.” Roman finished with a dramatic surrendering gesture and walked toward the room where Virgil lays immobile.
“Penny for your thoughts Cherry Berry?” Patton smiled, addressing their previous glance.
“I speculate that Virgil is withholding crucial information, and I may have concluded what this information is.” Logan replied, dismissing the clever nickname that tugged at the corners of his lips, threatening a smirk. Patton saw this miniscule twitch, and somehow brightened his already shining smile.
“Mind sharin’ with the class?” Patton tried to lighten the tension that had blossomed in the room. His smile dampened slightly, fear and suspicion rising in his throat, for under his naive appearance, he was anything but. Neither Logan nor Roman knew this to it’s full extent.
“Firstly, I believe that Virgil may be homeless. This is based on the fact that he hasn’t mentioned missing anyone, or vice versa. Now this may just be due to a lack of bonding, or distrusting us, but he was also found near death in an alleyway with stained and worn clothes.” Patton had suspected this, preparing to confront Virgil, and offer becoming roommates. They had all grown attached to this boy with his quick wit and kind personality hidden under years of mistreatment. Whether or not they had acknowledged it yet was a different matter.
“I believe this will be upsetting for you Patton. I believe that he is a past victim of child abuse.” Many emotions flickered across his face, many to quickly for Logan to register, settling on one Logan had never experienced firsthand. Fury was a rare and petrifying emotion when Patton wore it, a sight no one wanted to experience. Rage twisted his bubbly nature to something more sinister. His bright smile turned more to a dark and demented smirk, smooth curves of his face hardened from muscles tensing. His eyes wide with a deep hatred, reserved for those few people worthy of it. His words seemed to slow to Patton.
“How could someone do that Logan?” His face turning to sorrow, tears creasing the corners of his eyes. “How could someone do that to a child?” Logan only shook his head, for once in his life not knowing the answer. Patton clung to Logan after gaining an affirmative nod, signaling that he could hug him. Patton was a very affectionate person, who lived on cuddles, hugs, and all things including touch.
Soon, Logan stood with Patton and they strolled wearily to their bedroom. They were greeted with sleeping Virgil and Roman cuddling with entangled limbs, each holding the other close. It was all Patton had to stop from squealing, as he fumbled with his phone camera turning off the flash. He snapped a picture of the two, saving it on his phone. Debating on whether or not he should use it for teasing, but that could wait until the morning.
***
Virgil awoke to the smell of pastries. He went to sit up, then noticed the warmth coming from beside and partially on top of him. His eyes groggily slid open as he carefully supported himself on his elbow. Yawning, his sight drifted below him to see the tranquil face of Roman asleep. His contrasting eyes widened as his face flushed red at the close proximity. A sigh escaped his lips as he realized that he couldn’t escape without waking Roman, but his stomach twisted with hunger. Resigning to his fate, he turned and began gently shaking Roman’s shoulder.
“Hey, wake up princey. Come on, get up.” Virgil spoke gently, knowing that Roman was normally irritable when he awoke. Roman opened his eyes and stared into Virgils. Virgil stared back until he noticed that he could actually see, meaning both of his eyes were visible. He let out a completely dignified squawk and leapt backwards, nearly falling off of the bed if it weren’t for Roman catching him once more.
“Your eyes,” Roman began, Virgil tensed preparing for the worst, “are stunning.” He spoke, voice soft in awe and wonder. Panic was forgotten as confusion overtook him.
“Wha- huh?” He spoke with all the eloquence of a potato.
“They’re gorgeous, why haven’t we seen them until now?” He questioned, suddenly wide awake.
“I’ve kinda, maybe been hiding it from you.” Virgil mumbled hastily, words jumbling together. Roman almost didn’t catch what he said, almost .
“But why would you hide them?” Roman was astounded that one, none of them had noticed only ever seeing one eye, and two, that Virgil would hide this.
“I’m an outcast, different. My guardians and peers resented me, and this,” He gestured casually to his face, “was just another thing they would use against me.” Roman hated how dismissive and resigned his tone was. He knew just what could cheer Virgil up, because that was one thing Patton never failed to do, as he called him in. Virgil stared at Roman, mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide with shock. Roman mouthed an insincere apology, knowing that Patton would squeal at the sight of his child’s, as he called everyone he met, eyes.
“Somethin’ the matter kiddo?” Patton asked as he bounced into the room. Virgil’s head jerked towards the door, Roman was surprised that his neck didn’t snap right then and there. Virgil stared straight at, frozen in place. Patton gasped and rushed to Virgil only seconds after making eye contact.
“Wow, kiddo. Your eyes are so pretty.” He squealed with a childlike glee. His hand was holding a lock of Virgil's violet hair out of his face. Virgil continued to stare, eyes somehow widening.
Patton continued to flood him with compliments, and Virgil's eyes continued to widen. Once his eyes were as wide as could be, his face turned red, darkening with each compliment. Patton only ceased when he heard growling, originating from Virgil. He cursed his treacherous stomach.
Patton took it upon himself to gently lift Virgil and carry him to the kitchen to eat. Virgil still had difficulty walking, it was possible for him to, just at a very slow pace. The injured boy sputtered protests, but Patton hadn’t given those a second thought, knowing that he was actually thankful for this, seeing the gratefulness shimmer in his eyes. Patton knew that walking with a still healing Tibia had to be excruciatingly painful. Roman followed them out, watching the playful protests and giggles, joining in the laughing fit occasionally.
They continued to the kitchen. Virgil cutting off his voice as he gawked at the blueberry pancakes and danishes splayed across the table. Logan sitting there with a rainbow checkered coffee mug. Patton gently sat Virgil at the table, elevating his leg on a spare chair. They began to eat as thanks were muttered to Patton, casual conversation came to them with ease.
***
The group of four were lounging in the living room later that day, having a movie marathon, after discovering that Virgil hadn’t even heard the name Disney. Roman playfully feigned outrage, but soon noticed that Virgil appeared hurt, and immediately apologized.
Logan and Patton looked to each other during Pinocchio . Sighing gently, Logan leaned forward to grab the remote and paused the movie.
“Hey, what was that for!?” Roman shouted. Patton once more saw Virgil flinch, it pained him more than the times before with this new revelation. Virgil looked between Logan and Patton questioningly, also wondering why the movie was stopped so abruptly.
Logan cleared his throat and began, “Virgil, Patton and I have noticed many habits of yours, such as flinching at loud noises or sudden touch and movements, along with others. We were wondering if you would like to explain these instances-”
“But only if your comfortable with it.” Patton interrupted.
“Yes, Patton. Or we could voice our speculations towards the matter.”
Virgil stared at the duo, not knowing that they would be this perceptive. He curled into himself, feeling his breath catch and accelerate.
‘ No, not again, not here, please.’ Virgil mentally pled. He lost the war against the onslaught of memories, terrible memories. Terrible memories that he had tried so hard to forget, through many ways. The final string connecting him to reality snapped.
Virgil flinched as he felt rough skin connect once more with his young face. Bellowing laughter pierced through his already pounding head further as he forced back towards the wall, trying to distance himself from his guardians.
“P-please, stop, n-no not a-again.” Virgil begged, voice quivering. He knew it was futile, though only ten at the time, this had become routine.
“Come now sweetie, you disturbed daddies work. You know what happens, you need discipline or you’ll never become a responsible adult.” Her harmonious voice rang through the air. His male guardian, Liam, began to strike him once more after the fruitless escape attempt. They both knew where and how to hit with precision, ensuring that it wasn’t visible. The doorbell pierced through the house.
“Get up boy, and go sit on the couch. We’ll continue this lesson later.” His father growled at the boy. His female guardian watched him as he walked toward the floral pink sofa.
“Rayne, good to see ya! How have y’all been doin’ lately” Her friend -Caroline, Virgil had learned- asked as Rayne opened the door with arms open for a hug.
“I’ve been doing well, thanks for asking. And you?” Rayne spoke, deceptively sweet. Virgil had found that her friends were nice, occasionally giving him candy when left alone. They continued their small talk as Virgil fondly remembered savoring the sweet things.
“-right sweetie?” His guardians were now glaring at him expectantly.
“O-oh yeah, sure.” Virgil responded, not knowing what he had just agreed to. They didn’t ask for any further input from him as they chatted until Caroline had to leave. Virgil had wondered how his guardians appeared so kind and caring in public. Then, as if some kind of switch flipped when they walked into their house. She had unknowingly been his savior, as all of Rayne’s friends were at some point, who was now leaving him to fend for himself, which for him meant to survive the ruthless beating of his parents.
They ended their session, leaving Virgil clinging to life on the ground. His frail body crawled up the stairs, hands occasionally slipping and sending his jaw into into a corner. On his bed he found morsels and scraps of spoiled food. He ate around the worst sections, grateful for any type of sustenance. He eventually fell unconscious, nightmares filling his life even during the blissful escape of night.
***
“-gil? Virgil?” He felt a familiar pattern being tapped lightly on his uninjured leg.
“Four, seven, eight.” The voice told him, Roman’s, he realized. Roman met his glossy stare with concern, still holding Virgil’s hand to his chest while continuing the breathing exercises. He attempted to align his breathing with the pattern, eventually succeeding.
“Are you okay now angel?” Patton asked with concern penetrating his attempt at a cheerful voice.
“Yeah, I’m f-fine.” Virgil responded, glazed eyes fading, and steadily being replaced with the warm, mismatched eyes.
“We’re really sorry for pressuring ya kiddo, we just really want to understand, and help if we can.” Patton spoke, shame clear in his voice, he hung his head in shame.
“Dad, really it’s fine,” He saw Patton perk up, glad that his nickname had the intended effect, “and I feel like you guys have a right to know. You’ve accepted me, and helped me through alot, so it’s only fair.” Virgil awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.
“Only if you do it for you , you don’t owe us anything.” Roman reinforced their support.
Virgil nodded his head as he began telling the tale of how he ended up here, which fell upon attentive and supportive ears. He told of his kind, loving parents who met an untimely and gruesome death. He told of Emile, the foster homes owner and therapist who he grew attached to for his sincere kindness and understanding, which was a rare emotion for Virgil to experience. Virgil told of the false sweetness of his guardians, and Emile’s hesitance to allow them to adopt. The unrelenting physical and mental abuse of his neglectful guardians. How they kicked him out as soon as he turned eighteen, with nothing to live on except his oversized patchwork hoodie he had kept from his parents. Each patch replacing a hole his guardians had made. His memories flooded out of his mouth as soon as he recalled them, not acknowledging the hot tears cascading down his flesh, or how his body racked with sobs. He continued until he finished with how his guardians had stumbled upon him into a hidden alley, leaving him to limp into the alleyway where Patton had found him.
He finally let the sobs rip out of his throat, hugging himself tightly. Eventually, he lifted to see he was not alone in his tears. Patton was unabashedly weeping, with Roman following close behind, and even Logan was misty eyed. Logan audibly swore upon feeling a tear run down his cheek, which earned watery giggles from the nineteen year olds and a stern look from Patton.
“Potty-mouth-jar, now.” Patton demanded Logan through sobs, somehow presenting a tone that suggested he wouldn't take no for an answer.
“What-”
“You heard me mister, now go.”
“Is now really the time Patton?” Logan questioned, believing he would be allowed this one exception.
“Now.”
“Come on!” He muttered some choice words beneath his breath, pulling out his wallet.
“I heard that! That makes six dollars, you know the rules.” He continued, “Keep this up and we’ll have a new sofa in no time!” Patton shouted out the doorway. He sighed and looked exasperatingly towards the two teens who were struggling to contain their laughter, even with tears running down their face.
“I managed to donate fourteen additional dollars to the potty-mouth-jar.” Logan came in, speaking solemnly. The teens erupted into cackling while Patton gawked at him.
“How?” Was all he could manage to say in response to that.
Logan smirked, “Well, I simply said-”
“No! Don’t I don’t need to know! There are children in this room!”
“Patton, I hardly feel as if Virgil and Roman are children.” Logan sighed.
“I was talking about me.” Logan stared at Patton and let out a rare snort.
They eventually settled down and continued to watch Pinocchio , all of them asleep and cuddling by the time the end credits rolled.