#autistic deceit

Deceit liked to stim. He knew he was probably autistic, and hence why the textures of what he stimmed with were so important. But that was fine.

He liked to play with his capelet, sometimes moving and letting it swish around, smiling at the sound.

And sometimes he grinned and muttered to himself as he did it.

Like today, where all he was doing was sitting on the sofa, wriggling his torso and shoulders to hear the familiar swish of the capelet, muttering about how cool it was to himself.

“You’re so weird.”

He looks up, seeing Virgil leaning on the sofa behind him.

“I’m not,” he argues.

“Doesn’t that mean you are?” Roman asks, walking past, “stop muttering to yourself, at least.”

Deceit scowls, hunching up and biting his lip.

“Leave him alone,” Logan says as he sits beside Deceit, a cup of tea in one hand and a tangle in the other, “let him stim in peace.”

Deceit smiles at his autistic friend, and thanks him softly.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Virgil’s voice obviously comes as a shock to Deceit, of whom spins around from where he’s standing at the kitchen counter and hides his hands behind himself. Even as Deceit looks surprised, and a bit weary, there’s a gleam of childish excitement, and Virgil doesn’t like the look of it a single bit. The snake-like side shifts his weight between both of his feet nervously, rocks back and forth as he shyly glances up at him with bright eyes, and Virgil has a bad feeling about this.

“O-Oh, I was, uh-- I--” Deceit stammers, refusing to make eye contact, and Virgil narrows his eyes suspiciously. What the hell is he planning this time? Back when he still lived with them, Remus and Deceit played pranks all the time, and Virgil can still distinctly remember the feeling of putting his foot in his sock and it immediately being submerged in tomato sauce. Disgusting, and juvenile, and Remus hasn’t stopped calling him Spaghetti Sock since. Isn’t he creativity? Couldn’t he be a little more… you know… creative?

“Wait, are those cupcakes? What the hell do you think you’re doing messing with Patton’s stuff?” Virgil snaps when Deceit moves a bit too far to the right, exposing the tray of cakes decorated with patterns and colours to match each of the four light sides, including himself. There are light blue ones, undoubtedly Patton’s, which he decorated with hearts and outlines of cat heads. There are red ones, for Roman, which have music notes and stars. There are ones that are obviously Logan’s in dark blue, with stripes and mathematical symbols. And then there are Virgil’s, purple swirls and bats and spiders that must have terrified Patton to draw. 

Deceit looks like a deer caught in headlights, and his hand flutters at his side, quickly patting the side of his thigh over and over again. He’s obviously anxious, which is a dead giveaway that he’s up to no good. Virgil doesn’t know what the hell he’s trying to do. Is he messing up the designs? Eating them himself? Throwing them away? Virgil doesn’t think Deceit is that evil or malicious, but… what if he’s trying to poison them? What if he’s using Patton’s hard work to get back at them?

“Patton’s… stuff?” Deceit questions slowly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and the purple cupcake he’s holding in his hand is lowered. He glances down at it, turns to look at the tray for a moment, then meets Virgil’s glare with an odd gaze of his own. “But that’s not--”

“What’s going on down here? I’m trying to get my beauty sleep, hello!” Roman’s voice booms as he walks into the kitchen to stand in front of the dining table and rub at his eyes groggily. Logan follows behind, wearing plain pajama pants and a t-shirt as a contrasting juxtaposition to Roman’s boldly patterned matching set. He doesn’t say anything, just leans against the counter and crosses his arms, and his sleepy eyes are dark and neutral where they bore into Deceit.

“Deceit’s messing with Patton’s cupcakes. He won’t tell me what he’s doing,” Virgil growls in response, twisting his jacket sleeves in either hand restlessly. Deceit just looks down at his shoes, and taps on his leg faster, and Virgil wishes he’d just stop.

“What?! You fiend! How could you deface these sweet treats?” Roman asks as he pulls out his sword from seemingly nowhere, too offended to notice Deceit shrink back in what appears to be fear. What, he can pick a fight, but he runs away as soon as he’s confronted? Coward.

“That’s not--”

“Oh, quit lying, Deceit. Just own up so I can go to bed,” Virgil blusters, raises a lip in distaste when Deceit has the nerve to look upset. He’s the one who came into their home, messed with their stuff, and of course he’s gonna make himself the victim somehow. Fucking typical.

“Virgil,” Logan snaps from beside him, and Virgil whips his head to him in surprise. Is he seriously getting in trouble for this? For Deceit trying to hurt them? He’s just trying to protect them from a lying, evil snake, and Logan’s mad at him? “You are being unnecessarily harsh. Did you even see him do anything to the cupcakes? How do you know his intentions? Did you ask him, and did you allow him to speak? No matter if you like Deceit or not, you cannot accuse him of tampering and then refuse to even allow him the chance to explain himself or clear up any potential misunderstandings. He has the right to a fair trial.”

And despite Logan of course making it into literal due process, Virgil still listens. Maybe… maybe Logan’s right. He’s been stressed out all day, and he’s exhausted from the panic attack he had a few hours ago, so… maybe he’s bringing that negativity with him. He’s… what did Dr. Picani call it? Projecting. He’s projecting his frustration onto Deceit. He just needs to calm down and try to see a different perspective. Right.

“They’re Patton’s cupcakes. I didn’t make them. I was making them look worse. They taste like shit now. I hope you hate them,” Deceit rushes out, and his eyebrows furrow immediately. He looks frustrated, and confused, and a little bit panicked, and Virgil doesn’t see any of it. Instead, he sees Patton’s dejected face when he realizes that Deceit ruined the cupcakes he made for them, the way he’ll be so sad that Deceit can’t be good, that he’s nothing more than a snake. He’s angry. So angry. And Roman lets out an insulted “Hah?!”, shows the same emotion Virgil is feeling.

“What the fuck? Who the hell do you think you are?” Virgil snarls as Deceit sets the themed cupcake that was in his hand back into its place in the pan. His head buzzes like a swarm of wasps filled with ire, and he’s itching to do something he can’t pinpoint.

“Wait, no, he’s--” Logan starts, but a single indecipherable look from the snake-like side cuts his words off. The exchange is odd, and feels too familiar to be between the two, and Virgil doesn’t even care.

“I’m not gonna-- I’m gonna leave now,” Deceit chokes out, expression distressed and mouth wobbling, and Virgil’s so fucking mad. How dare he try to throw himself a pity party? Fake-crying, seriously? Who the hell believes that? And then Deceit is clutching at his cape with white knuckles, hunched over as he tries to sweep out of the kitchen, and-- no. He’s not just going to come in here, mess up their shit, and get away with it.

In a single motion, Virgil shoves Deceit forward, watches his panic and shock when he stumbles. He watches the fear flash through his eyes, the betrayal, the resignation, and Virgil falters too late.

Deceit’s head ricochets off the edge of the counter, smacking into the granite countertop with a loud thump. The others cringe in sympathy, wince when his iconic bowler hat is sent flying to the ground where it skids to a stop beside a chair. His body comes down with him, descends when his knees give out from the pain, and his limp arms fall to rest in front of him. He slowly pulls in on himself, and then relaxes completely with his body curled around the edge of the cabinet.

“Virgil! I may have had my own outbursts before, but I cannot condone unprompted violence!” Logan hisses, reprimands digging deep to unearth the tiny loose thread of guilt from the fray ripping into Virgil’s psyche. That… that was too much, even for him. What the hell? He’s-- he’s not supposed to be the bad guy! He’s been trying to be better, and at the first sign of provocation, he immediately becomes worse than the one he’s angry at? He stooped that low in a matter of moments?

“Come on, we all know we can’t get injured. Quit being dramatic,” Roman sighs as he puts his sword away. Even he glances at Virgil with the slightest hint of surprise, crosses his arms and shifts his attention to Deceit. He looks exasperated but empathetic, something that is far from mirrored on Virgil’s own face. “Deceit. Seriously. I know that wasn’t cool of Virgil, but there’s no point in dragging this out.”

And Deceit… doesn’t answer. He may be a liar, and a slippery snake, but he has nothing to gain from faking being hurt, so what is he doing? Is he trying to guilt-trip Virgil? Not that he… not that he doesn’t kinda deserve it, but it’s an… annoying way to go about making him apologize. Which he might not even do, if Deceit’s still being an asshole when he gets up. But then Logan is kneeling down beside Deceit, shaking his shoulder with an uncommon worry in his eyes, and suddenly this whole thing doesn’t feel as nonchalant as before. “Deceit. Deceit. Wake up. Deceit!”

He doesn’t wake up.

Then Logan rolls Deceit over, displays the blood coming from the cut on the snake-like side’s forehead, shows how his head rolls to the side without any resistance, and Virgil feels his heart leap into his throat. What the fuck. What the fuck. He didn’t-- He may have been mad, but he wasn’t trying to seriously hurt him! Why isn’t he getting up? They’re sides, for Christ’s sake, they can’t get injuries like that! They heal almost instantaneously!

“He’s-- he’s not waking up. I think-- maybe he can’t wave the wound away because he was knocked unconscious? But he still should have woken up by now. I don’t understand,” Logan mutters, talks in circles around himself with a rapid-fire pace. His thoughts are clearly hard at work, assessing all available information and possible outcomes, and Virgil’s hands are shaking. Why isn’t he waking up?

“Kiddos? Why is everyone awake so late? W-- What happened in here?!” Patton shrieks as soon as he sees the blood, and his hand shoots up to cover his mouth. He has to turn and lean on the kitchen door frame for support, uses the other hand to cradle his queasy stomach, and Virgil is simultaneously relieved and terrified.

“Deceit came in here and messed with the cupcakes you made, and then Virgil got mad and pushed him,” Roman informs plainly, hands clenched at his sides with the stress of not being able to do anything to help. Virgil is in the same boat himself. His fingers twist around each other, fidgety as he incredulously watches Logan attempt to wave away the wound and subsequently fail.

“But I didn’t make cupcakes,” Patton says worriedly, eyes perturbed as he seems to try to mentally extract information from the two still standing. Of course, he can’t read their minds, so he can only speculate himself, and that allows his brain to finally process Roman’s words. “Wait, Virgil pushed him? Virgil, that’s not okay!”

“But-- you didn’t make them? Then wh--” Virgil starts, but then his voice gets locked in his throat when he comes to the obvious realization. Fuck. Fuck! He… those were… why?! Why did he just stand there? Why didn’t he just say s--

Oh.

“This is what happens when you jump to conclusions, Virgil. I thought you’d moved past this type of childish behaviour, but clearly my expectations were too high. Deceit obviously made cupcakes for us, went to the trouble of decorating them with our preferred colours and themes, and you knocked him unconscious for it,” Logan says angrily. His words are charged, and they’re completely true. Virgil can’t-- he’s so stupid. He was so caught up in himself he didn’t even bother to look at the full picture. He knows what it’s like to be the outcast, knows what it’s like to try to fit in and appeal to people the only way he knows how, and yet he still… He demonized Deceit without even bothering to put himself in his shoes. He shouldn’t even need to, because he’s been there, and he still ruined what was obviously meant to be a thoughtful gift to make peace with them. He’s such an asshole.