Fear's Perspective
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Virgil remembered.
The others tended to forget that he had seen what they did, tended to think that he had been too young to remember who the first Creativity was, too young to comprehend what had happened that day.
But Virgil had not been too young. He knew Creativity. Pinky. That's how he called him and Pinky had called him Purple. He had liked it. Just like the stories he told him, even when they sometimes were so scary that he started crying, after which Deceit always came to scold Pinky for making him cry.
It had never been Pinkyâs fault. Virgil wanted the stories to be scary. He wanted to be scared by something he knew was made up. It somehow made him happy and Pinky was the best at telling them. The best to come up with fun ideas. That was why he and Logan were inseparable, besides the fact that they came into existence at the same time. Which was something Patton and Janus always seemed to forget or ignore.
Logan used to have someone by his side. A peer in his age. After Pinkyâs disappearance Logan had a growth spurt, caught up with Patton and Janus within weeks. No one talked about it, acted as if it hadnât happened but Virgil remembered. And he knew it wasnât good. Not healthy. Not a choice.
Virgil never had been seen as equal to the older four. Patton and Janus had always feared for him to get hurt, Logan was uncertain how he was supposed to treat something so small and terrified and Pinky was more of a babysitter than a friend. Back then they weren't equal. And on some days, Virgil felt that they still weren't equal.
But then Magenta split into Red and Green and everything changed.
Virgil didn't understand quite why the split had gone down like this. Why Roman got red, which was magenta with a little yellow, and why Remus got green, which was the opposite form magenta.
Because Roman was not like Pinky with a little more Janus in him. Roman was honourable, idealistic and a perfectionist. Yes, the appearance sometimes got quite close to Pinky but there was never the same carelessness in his actions, never this sloppiness in his comparisons when Roman created or said something. And he was not as adaptive and confident like Pinky was. Also, it had not gone unnoticed by Virgil that Roman never referred to himself as Thomasâs ego or self-esteem. The others did it quite frequently but Roman never acknowledged it. Never tried to associate with that part of his role more than he was necessary.
Because Remus was not the opposite of Pinky. They both were imaginative, quick and shamelessly confident in their creations. They both cared about him, showed it in their very own way and made him feel listened too. But Remus was different than Pinky. He did not cry for attention, did not insult others feelings when he was pushed into a corner. Remus was forgiving. Endlessly so. He didnât know, didnât understand the value of purpose and didnât care if Thomas left a mark on the world. But he did care about Janus, Logan, Patton and Thomas looking at him and understanding that he was not trying to hurt them.
But even though Virgil didnât understand the allocation, Roman and Remus had come to be. He remembered the day. He remembered being confused and scared when he saw the two new faces, instead of Pinkyâs.
It had been especially hard since the evening before he had gone to Pinky and asked him to help him with choosing a name.
âWhat do you mean it sounds stupid? Virgil was a poet! A man who wrote, who defined what the stories of the gods are we know of today! He was more powerful than they ever were. And thatâs what I had in mind for you! Not a god, not a great concept or anything but something just as powerful but humane. Itâs a good name. But I suppose you can change it if you can come up with something better.â
Virgil never came up with something better. So, he stuck with it like the others did with theirs.
Anyway, the moment he saw the two new sides, the only time he met new sides, he would never forget, even if the older three acted as if he had forgotten. Virgilâs heart had beaten so much faster than it was supposed to. Logan was starting to get upset in the background while Patton and Janus were unsuccessfully trying to figure out what had gone wrong.
Then Virgil had started to cry. The red one, Roman, stepped back, froze at loud noise Virgil made now. The green one, Remus, got closer, crouched down and smiled widely at him and said: âYou are so small but so loud! I like it! Can you make other noises?â
It had startled Virgil. And he got quiet. He had to think about the question. And then he screamed loudly and watched how Remusâs eyes started to gleam with excitement, while the rest stared at the pair in shock.
But Virgil wasnât scared anymore. No longer in shock. Because in this very moment he and Remus were equal. No babysitting, no patronizing, no coddling. Just a fascinated, inspired side in front of him, who wanted to hear him scream.
And as time went on Remus tried to remain his equal. But he couldnât do that all the time. Not when Virgil sometimes needed someone to take care of him, to look after him, when Janus was indisposed.
Virgil and Janus didnât make it easy for Remus to live with them. But Remus seemed to like it most of the time. He seemed to like them well enough and Virgil hoped that he remembered that right and had not manipulated his own memory to make himself feel better.
Roman too, didnât have it easy though. While Logan grew up fast and stern, he lost part of the childish, passionate energy to himself and Roman had to learn how to play on his own. Had to make up games for Patton and him that were appropriate and think of conversations where Logan forgot to be so stiff.
Virgil did not witness that as much as he did the struggle of Remus. But Virgil knew that Roman struggled. That he did not understand, that he wanted to play. Wanted to be a child. That Remus wanted the same.
Because, unlike the others, he had seen the twins talk and play together. In the middle of the night, when he couldnât sleep, he would get up and hear them play and talk in the living room. He heard them talk about their days, heard them talk about the others, talk about their sides and what they wanted to create and play next.
It was when Virgil learnt the one thing Janus, Patton and Logan probably never actively realized; the twins were children.
Roman still had the endless hope and the spark of childish innocence in his heart.
Remus still had the unending wonder and the blunt honesty in everything he said.
That knowledge never quite left Virgil. It always stuck in the back of his head. He thought about what it meant. Asked himself if that was because they never got to be toddlers. If it was because they started out as seven-year-olds and soon were treated similarly to Logan. If it was because they were forced to grow up quickly too.
Not that Patton and Janus didnât have to grow up quickly. They were the ones who took care of them for most of the time and they never were much older or more experienced than the rest of them. Virgil understood that it had to be hard for them. But they were allowed to spend time together. To sit next to each other during meals, because they knew each other for so long and needed to talk about important Thomas stuff.
The twins were held to a different standard. They had their sides, their roles, their slots to fill out.
Virgil had known it to be unfair. He should have stood up for them. But Virgil had not known that he could do that or he had been too afraid of the consequences if he did so.
He did not know if he could ever make it up to them. To the Prince and to the Duke. He was still thinking it through.
But as of now, in the middle of the night, as he couldnât sleep and had gotten up, he listened to them talking in the living room. He heard them laugh. He heard them joke. He heard the joke turn into a mock fight and grinned.
Silently, Virgil leaned against the wall and looked up to the ceiling, still listening. Maybe he could never pay them back for his inaction. But he could let them be kids. He could let them play.
And he remembered. He could remember for them where they started from and what they have been through. He knew and he would not forget.
Yes, Virgil did remember.
