#tsficexchange

“I heard a family’s moving in next door. I didn’t think it would be bought so soon, what with the roof predicament and all that!” Virgil’s mum laughed as she dumped potatoes on her son’s plate. When she turned around, he stabbed his fork into the vegetable with as much force as he could muster.

“Didn’t Kelly from across the road say that they have a son around Virge’s age? Maybe you two could become friends?” His dad suggested, non-too subtly. Virgil barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His mum glared at her spouse, who merely shrugged. “What? I’m just saying, he has to get over Patton sometime. Better sooner rather than later.”

“Christian!”

“Sweetheart, I’m just saying, it’s been almost two whole months-“

“I can feel that you’re just worried for him, and I understand, but now is not the time.”

Virgil pushed his chair back, wincing as it scraped along the floor. “I’m going to my room,” he muttered, then marched up the stairs. He slammed open his bedroom door, stormed in and turned on his computer. As he waited for the ancient thing to boot, he couldn’t help but to mull over what his father had said. Really, he was right.

Patton had moved away at the start of the summer holidays. Virgil could almost picture his window sliding open and his unusually upset best friend climbing in. He had rushed over to hug him, and then pulled back to ask who he had to kill. Pat chuckled, wiping his tears before explaining everything. How his parents had sat him down and told him about his mother’s job opportunity that required her to move away. How they told him it was for the best. How they were leaving for good.

The worst thing about it was that they hardly got to spend any time together before Patton left. His neighbour was so busy packing that, despite literally having a roof connecting their windows due to some idiot architect, they were restricted to Virgil coming over to help or midnight stargazing on the aforementioned roof. It was hell.

Patton, for the first time ever, was gone and Virgil was only just realising how dependent he had been on him. They were hardly ever separate, always having sleepovers or casually hanging out at each other’s places. That was all ruined. And Virge didn’t know what to do.

He was brought back into the present by the sudden bright glare of the monitor. His eyes flicked to the time. 6:03pm. Great, he was late for their regular Skype calls. Not by much, but still.

Virgil opened up Skype to see that Patton was already online.

Patton-cake: ‘Took you long enough!’

virge: ‘sorry, i lost track of the time. are you gonna call?’

Patton-cake: ‘Is everything okay?’

virge: ‘yeah.’

Patton-cake: ‘If you say so. Also, I have a surprise for you!!’

virge: ‘?’

Patton-cake is calling.

Wary and confused, Virgil clicked accept. As the call connected, he quickly went over all the possibilities of the surprise in his head while he fidgeted with the end of his hoodie. What was Patton planning? Did he make something for him? Oh no, he had nothing he was able to give in return-

“Virge!”

The familiar, overjoyed voice was enough to get him to relax. This was Pat. He never expected anything of him.

“Hey, Pat.”

Patton’s gaze softened. “Virgil, you don’t look alright. Anything I can do for you?”

The boy shook his head. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“Well, that’s never good!”

Virgil snorted at the classic Patton joke. He had made that one countless times before, but to hear it again was… comforting. Maybe nothing had changed after all..?

“Anyway, Dad told me yesterday that someone is moving next door.” (Virgil pulled a face at this.) “Make sure whoever gets my old room doesn’t steal you from me!”

Virgil scoffed. “Oh no, I’m still heartbroken over losing you, I could never move on that quickly – unless, of course, they actually appreciate the greatest band of all time, My Chemical Romance-”

“Hey, I did appreciate them when you showed them to me that one time!” Patton interjected, making Virgil grin.

“Even all the swearing?” His friend hesitated. “I knew it! I bet you wouldn’t listen to all of Black Parade! Jeez, Pat, did you ever even truly love me?”

Patton rolled his eyes. “Oh, stop it, you know I love you! You’re almost as dramatic as Roman, I swear!”

Virgil frowned. “Who?”

Pat slapped his forehead. “Whoops! There goes the surprise.” He turned away from the screen. “Alright, get in here!”

The door behind him opened and a guy came up to Patton, casually leaning on his shoulders. The stranger scanned Virgil before breaking out into a smile. “So you’re Virgil?”

Virge shrunk into his hoodie. This guy was far too confident for his tastes. “Yep. I’m Patton’s old neighbour and best friend. It’s nice to meet you…” He trailed off. What was his name again?

“Roman Prince, at your service!” Roman exclaimed, puffing out his chest. “I’m Patton’s boyfriend and soulmate.”

Virgil’s eyebrow twitched. Surely he misheard him. There’s no way that this guy could possibly be-

“It’s true!” Patton giggled. “We met a month ago at this community art class I’m taking. Since I’m new, the people running it thought it was best that he show me the ropes! We only found out about our soulmate status two weeks ago.”

Two weeks. Virgil counted and realised they’ve had at least five calls during that time, and only now did Patton mention this Roman?! Didn’t he remember the pact they made, that they’d tell each other when they found their soulmates straight away? Sure, they were seven at the time, which was almost a decade ago by now, but still.

Meanwhile, the other was far too caught up in his rambling to notice his friend’s silence. “I tripped over my shoelaces – you know me, always clumsy – and hit the floor super hard. At the same time, Roman gasped in pain, but nothing had happened to him!”

“Once I finished checking he was okay, I put it all together and realised that this adorable cardigan-clad guy must be my soulmate! We tested this out by having Patton watch sad videos while I was in a different room. I felt more sorrow than I have in my whole life! The saying ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ is true, but in the opposite way it was meant for.” Roman paused his spiel to kiss Patton’s cheek.

Who did this clown think he was? Of course Virge knew that – everyone did. It was common knowledge that your emotional bond with your soulmate grew more intense the closer you were, and yet Roman was treating Virge as some kind of moron.

The couple got lost in their own banter then. Virgil wanted to vomit. They’ve only known each other for four weeks, and already they seemed closer than he and Patton, who had been best friends for as long as they could remember.

He cleared his throat, and the two romantics finally seemed to realise he was watching their sickeningly sweet display. “I have to… finish some holiday homework. I’m sorry to cut this short. Pat, I’ll talk to you soon, and Roman… you better take care of Patton.”

“Trust me, I will.”

As he left the call, he saw the way prince prat gazed adoringly at his friend, and this both comforted him and upset him. Of course, Virgil knew it was pretty much inevitable that he would be replaced one day. Patton was the best person he knew and so deserving of all the love in the world, it was a wonder that he even became friends with someone as sour as Virge in the first place.

The next day, he woke up stressed. This made no sense to him, considering the situation with Patton was more anxiety-inducing than stressful, until he finally came to the conclusion that it was his own soulmate. That was odd. His soulmate was usually rather calm. That was something Virge liked about this total stranger – that whenever he was having a bad day and his insecurities made him believe that asking Patton for help would annoy him, he allowed himself to focus on the other’s emotions, trying to guess what they were doing.

As much as Virgil tried to act cynical about soulmates, he not-so-secretly thought that it was really nice to think that everyone had someone for them, even if their relationship with their soulmate wasn’t romantic at all. Being able to be loved by someone utterly and truly was one of the most comforting concepts to him. And to understand how your soulmate feels and to experience it yourself… When Virge felt the world was crashing around him, it was one of the only things to console him.

Now though, he wished he could reach through their invisible bond and telepathically convey that they should focus on him. Virgil’s soulmate deserved to rely on him for once, especially since he knew that they had been experiencing rather conflicting emotions over the past week, torn between fear and relief.

Whatever was going on with his soulmate, he wanted to help. Unfortunately, there was simply no way, not until they met. If they met.

Virgil’s overthinking was cut short by his mum knocking on his bedroom door. Groaning, the teenager dragged himself out of bed. He threw on his hoodie and pushed up the sleeves, ignoring the fact that it was summer and swelteringly hot.

“Yeah?” He yawned as the door opened, barely acknowledging his mother’s strangely fancy clothes.

She gasped when she saw her son’s attire. “Virgil! It’s midday!”

“It’s summer,” he grumbled under his breath, but she didn’t grace him with another retort.

“Change your clothes into something nice!” Not bothering to give a further explanation, his mum hustled past him and to his closet. She chucked a pair of jeans at him, along with the least worn-down shirt. Looking over her son, she grimaced at his hoodie, but knew it was pointless to even think about asking him to take it off. Without another word, she hurried off downstairs.

As much as Virgil would love to ponder over what in the hell his mother was doing, the stress had spiked. His own anxiety began to flood his veins. Deciding there was nothing better to do, he hauled himself to the window and slid it open, then climbed out onto the roof. He usually hated doing this during daytime for the fear of someone seeing and thinking he was a freak, but he found he didn’t care at this particular point in time. Odd.

Virge leant back and closed his eyes, allowing himself to get some rare sunlight.

A loud thud, curse and consequential scolding disrupted his brief moment of relaxation. Startling upright, Virgil scanned his surroundings and spotted a large moving van parked outside the other house. He glanced over the edge of the roof to see that just below him was a box of belongings with its contents sprawled out across the concrete and beside it, a bespectacled teenager staring up at him. He stared back, entranced by a peculiar familiarity he instinctively felt towards this stranger until his mind made the connection. The moving van, his mother’s nice clothing… This was his new neighbour.

And whoever this newcomer was, his first impression of Virgil would now forever be that of some creep who sleeps on rooftops. Realising this, Virge’s eyes widened and he scrambled back inside, heart hammering. Shit, shit, shit. Why did he do that? He looked like a fucking coward! He must never show his face again.

Virge flopped onto his bed face-first and drew the hoodie tighter around him, willing the mattress to open up and swallow him for an eternity. Behind his teenage angst, there was an underlying curiosity, but it definitely wasn’t stemming from his own feelings. A few minutes later, a sharp knock forced him to return to reality.

“Virgil, son, come and meet our new neighbours!” His father called through the door before thudding down the stairs, undoubtedly to have civil conversation with the neighbours about how weird his son was.

“I’ve already met them,” Virge mumbled to himself. Despite this, he knew that his parents expected him to be down there, so he might as well save himself the hassle of failing to convince them that he shouldn’t meet them.

Trudging downstairs, he kept his eyes focussed on the carpeted floor. So focussed, in fact, that he didn’t notice the other person until he ran into them.

“Shoot- uh, you okay there?”

When Virgil finally found the will to open his eyes, he found himself on the floor staring up at the guy from earlier. Fuck. The stranger extended his hand, but Virge picked himself up and dusted himself off. “I’m mentally cursing my existence, but otherwise, I’m great,” he murmured. He rubbed his head and winced, but everything else seemed to be in working order, so he wasn’t too bothered.

“Are you definite?” he asked. “I wouldn’t wish our initial exchange to be tainted by this infelicitous event.”

Virgil frowned, trying to decode whatever language this weirdo was speaking in. There was a beat of silence until he realised he was expected to reply. Pushing past his embarrassment, he finally properly looked at him.

Holy shit.

He gulped, and stuttered at a response, trying not to seem affected by this absolute nerd who somehow looked good in the most ridiculous formal getup Virge had ever seen. Really, what teenage wears a polo shirt and a tie when meeting neighbours? Plus… he was fucking tall. Especially to someone as short (ahem, less-than-average height) as Virge.

“Yeah, uh… Yeah, I’m fine, just- just a little sore.”

Heat rushed to his cheeks as the other simply stared at him. Oh god, he sounded like an idiot, now he has to avoid this person at all costs. Virgil dug his nails into the ends of his sleeves and debated hightailing it down the stairs, but was stopped by a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

“Wait- I should introduce myself. My name is Logan.” Logan extended his hand and Virgil shook it.

“I’m Virgil- though, if you want, you can call me Virge.” Realising he was still gripping Logan’s hand, he dropped it as if it were a hot pan and jolted backwards.

The other teen raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t make a comment on it. “Which do you prefer?”

“Virge. It’s less awful than Virgil. Sometimes I wonder what my parents were thinking naming me that, but then I remember that my mother’s name is Amelie.” He laughed but stopped when Logan frowned.

“I like the name Virgil. It was the name of a Roman poet I’m rather fond of.”

“You like poetry?!”

Logan crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Yes. It’s a form of art deserving of more appreciation, but some people refuse to see its value.”

Huh. Virgil didn’t take this guy as someone to get so defensive this easily, but he rushed to explain nonetheless. “No, I agree with you, it’s just that I love poetry! It’s my favourite thing to do in English and I was surprised that someone else liked it because no one ever does, and so I often don’t tell people that I write poetry as they always laugh-”

Logan raised a hand to cut off his rambling. “Relax. I understand, and I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. You said you write poetry? Would you care to show me sometime?”

Virgil bit his lip. “I don’t know, it’s really bad. The only one that isn’t horrible is far too long and kind of depressing, so it doesn’t matter-“

“Nonsense. If you put that much effort into it, then I’d love to read it.” Logan looked him in the eyes and Virgil couldn’t make himself believe that the other was lying.

“Well, anyway, we should probably go downstairs and – ugh – socialise.”

This time Logan did laugh, and Virgil was filled with a warm glow.

-

“So how was meeting the new neighbours?”

“Awful.”

Patton looked sceptical. “Awful? I got nonstop texts about this Logan guy. You seemed pretty obsessed with him.”

Virgil scoffed. “No. It’s just that he’s a nerd! Like, take every stereotype of a nerd ever to exist and compile them together and you get Logan. He wears a tie- a tie, Patton! And he uses these big fancy words and I can never understand any of them. God, he probably thought I was an absolute idiot! I mean, I kept rushing through my sentences and then I told him about my fucking poetry! He thinks I’m so lame, and that’s not even including the fact that I embarrassed myself in front of him two whole other times! He hates me, Pat- god, what an absolute dick.”

Patton wouldn’t have been able to help it if he tried. He giggled. “Yeah, you don’t care about his opinion at all.”

“Shut your face hole.”

He raised his hands up in mock-surrender. “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t hate you.” Before Virgil protested, he continued. “Did he say he does? And, if he’s as much as a nerd as you’ve made him out to be, he probably thought you were cool for writing poetry!”

“Me? Cool? Yeah, right.” The teen shrunk into his jumper and rolled his eyes. “And he may not have said he despises my existence, but that’s because he’s nice!”

“I thought he was, in your words, ‘an absolute dick’?”

Virgil’s eyebrows jumped up in shock at the swear. “Quick, someone call the cops, Patton just fucking swore! Fucking shit, I bet that Roman bastard is the motherfucker responsible for this.”

“Speaking of soulmates, maybe you and Logan McNerd are destined to be!”

“Wha- Are you delusional?! We have nothing in common!”

“Well, you’re both nerds aren’t you? I’d say you’re absolutely perfect for each other!”

Virgil turned off his computer then and there, not even bothering to end the call properly.

-

In the following weeks, his parents and Logan’s parents had become… annoyingly close. Their mothers were often found drinking coffee together at one of their houses while their dads went off to do… whatever dads did. Virgil assumed it was something stereotypical such as play catch – but without their sons, obviously. On second thought, maybe it was better if he left the imagination up to someone far more capable.

Meanwhile, while the parents of the families were bonding, the teenagers appeared to be attempting to set a record for the “most antisocial kid of the year”. So far, Virgil was winning. Logan actually tried to talk to him, but whenever he did, it always ended in awkward small talk that made Virge’s skin crawl. Instead, he took to spending his days hiding away in his room, either playing on his phone or ranting to Patton and occasionally Roman (and yes, after further consideration, perhaps Roman wasn’t too much of an asshole, though a tad arrogant) about Logan’s insistence to read his damn poems.

They, of course, only waggled their eyebrows, which infuriated Virgil more than Logan’s nosiness did. It was both a curse and an extraordinary blessing when school started up again.

He now had an excuse to avoid Logan. Plus, it gave him a chance to finally deal with the new intensity of his soulmate’s emotions. Virgil’s heart ached when he thought about all the possible reasons as to why they were uncharacteristically sensitive, but he shoved his worries aside as he knew that there was nothing he could really do about it.

Still, no matter how much he wanted to, he shouldn’t focus on that. Not when he was rushing through the crowded halls in an attempt to make it to his last class for the day. So far, he had been lucky enough to not have Logan in any of his periods – apart from lunch, which didn’t really count because he could easily ignore him. (And besides, Logan seemed to have found friends. Why would he want to sit with Virgil, who was all alone now that Patton was gone?)

In fact, he was so invested into getting to class on time, that he didn’t notice Logan lining up outside his classroom until Virgil was standing right next to him.

“Hello, Virgil- ah, Virge,” Logan greeted.

The shorter one glanced up in surprise. He popped his earbuds out (so long, Fall Out Boy) and pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Hey.” The silence that followed made Virgil cringe. “So, uh, you’re in AP English?”

“It would seem so.”

“Right. Yeah, obviously.” Virge coughed and shifted his weight. “What teachers do you have, if you don’t mind me asking? Maybe I can tell you how to deal with them.”

Logan smiled. “That would be wonderful. I have Miss Clark –“

“Lucky. She’s pretty chill and lets you play music in class, as long as you’ve done all your work.”

“- Mr Williams –“

Virgil scowled. “Just don’t even try to speak in his class if you don’t want to fail, no matter how smart you are. Also don’t bring up any politics around him – you do not want to hear his views.”

“Noted. Let’s see… There’s also Mr Pierce, Mrs Smith, Miss Kyle and Mr Sanders, who I believe teaches this class. He is surprisingly late though.” Logan adjusted his glasses once he finished listing them all off, but before Virgil could reply, their English teacher sprinted into view.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” Mr Sanders panted, doubled-over in an attempt to regain his breath. “You see, I pulled a prank on Mr Pierce and he smeared makeup over my shirt so I had to change, and then of course I just had to get back at him, so I hid his laptop. I’m currently a fugitive, so you all must work to hide me. If he comes in here, tell him I’m dead. Understand?”

Giggling, the class nodded, and began filing in. Virgil made a beeline for the back left corner, which was right next to a window he usually loved to gaze out of. This time, though, he glared at the pane, cursing the heavens for putting Logan in this class. He didn’t want more awkward conversations with the guy!

The universe however didn’t seem to get the memo, as Logan plonked his stuff on the desk next to Virgil’s. Of course Logan had to ruin his favourite subject for him.

“Is anyone sitting here?” He asked, already moving to sit down as Virgil shook his head.

Mr Sanders clapped his hands, drawing their attention to the front. “Listen here, as much as I hate to make you all do actual schoolwork during school on the first day, we might as well get straight into it. This unit we’re focussing on poetry –“

Virgil felt like bashing his head against a wall when Logan nudged him.

“– and you’ll be working in pairs. Just whoever is next to you is fine, but I know that I can’t stop you from choosing your own groups.”

Logan looked at him expectantly and Virgil shrugged, relieved and also anxious. At least he didn’t have to go through the embarrassment of being the only one without a partner, right? It wasn’t like this day could get any worse.

Mr Sanders came over and stood between the pair. “Now, Logan, I know for a fact that Virgil is an excellent poet. In fact, I have one he wrote last year right here.” He fished around for it and produced the semi-crumpled paper from his folder and handed it to Logan, much to Virgil’s mortification.

-

“It’s the worst, Patton! Sure, Logan may not be an intentional asshole but he still is one! You should just see the way he acts! Everyone always praises him because ‘oh, you’re so smart, Logan!’ or ‘whoa, you’re so hot’ and I’m sick of it! All he does is wear glasses and a tie – anyone could do that! Hell, I could do that! And he’s Mr Sanders favourite student – after one fucking week, Pat, one week! I struggled for three years to be his favourite and then Logan comes along and does everything perfect and just – argh!” Virgil threw his hands up. “Why does everyone think he’s attractive anyway? Sure, he’s got the nerd aesthetic, and he acts clueless when being flirted with, which I guess makes him even more loveable-“

Patton opened his mouth, smirking, but Virgil cut him off. “If you say what I think you’re going to say, I will end this call.”

The brightly-clothed teen on the screen giggled. “All I’m saying is that if you didn’t care about him, you wouldn’t spend so much time focussing on him!”

Virgil rolled his eyes. The truth was, he had been purposefully focussing his fury onto Logan, because it was a constant. Recently he’d been feeling all kinds of weird, and it was throwing him off. Not to mention, the only other consistent emotion was the hollow, dull ache of loneliness that had refused to leave him no matter what he did. Needless to say, Virgil didn’t feel like focussing on that.

-

Despite the assignment, Virgil and Logan ignored each other for the most part. It had become routine for them. They’d exchange friendly conversation in class and smile at each other when they passed in hallways or caught a glimpse through their windows, but otherwise, they remained distant. Virgil had started complaining less and less about Logan, and he only ever did anymore because that was what Patton (and Roman, when he was part of the call) expected to hear.

Still, though, Virge had figured that he could at the very least rely on Logan. Or he did, until…

All he had been trying to do was get to the front of the cafeteria as soon as possible so he didn’t have to wait forever in the line. Really, he should learn to become more spatially aware as he ended up slamming into someone and knocking their tray of food onto the floor.

“Fuck- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” Virge cut his apologies off with a gulp once he saw who it was. He didn’t exactly know the guy, but from the jersey, he knew that the big oaf currently towering over him was on the football team. The shove to his chest was expected, but that didn’t help the fact that Virge now lay winded on the cold floor, while the other students around him sniggered to themselves.

He picked himself up, ignoring the throbbing pain in the arm that he had landed on, and started to hurry away before his day could get any worse. It was then that he caught sight of Logan hiding a smile behind his hands.

Cold rushed through his veins and seeped into his stomach, making the tight ball of anxiety expand until he felt that he couldn’t breathe. Before he knew what he was doing, he was sprinting outside the cafeteria, far too aware of the judging eyes trained onto his retreating form.

Once he regained control over his body, he realised that he was in an empty bathroom. Thank god, he thought as he allowed himself to slump against the hard plaster walls. He could finally sob in peace.

Meanwhile, Logan’s acquaintance, Yasmin, was snapping her fingers in front of the intelligent teenager’s face.

“Yo, Lo-” (Logan cringed at the abbreviation of his name and the butchering of the English language) “- I know my jokes are hilarious, but did you see that weirdo who just ran out of here?”

He furrowed his eyebrows together. “Weirdo?”

“Oh my god, please don’t tell me you missed that?!” Seeing Logan’s blank stare, Yasmin smacked her forehead. “Jeez, for someone so smart, you’re not that observant. That loner dude – the one with the strange name – he got shoved by Harrison-”

“Who?”

“The fucking star of the footie team, how do you not- okay, not important. Anyways, the weirdo got knocked to the ground and then just sprinted away. I’m surprised no teacher has gone looking for him yet, but then again, the teachers at this school mostly suck unless you get someone cool.”

As Yasmin ranted away about another irrelevant topic, Logan worked to put the pieces together in his mind. Strange name, huh? And to think he just ran instead of brushing it off like most others would… Could it be?

“Excuse me, I have to leave your presence to check something.” Logan started walking off.

“You know, most humans say goodbye, or I’ll talk to you later!” Yasmin called after him. He smiled, but otherwise continued without a word. She wouldn’t be too bothered, and that was what he liked about her. Sure, she wasn’t the most intellectually stimulating conversation partner, but she at least understood his… unusual mannerisms.

He rubbed his right arm as he exited the room, suddenly realising it had been hurting for the past few minutes. When he touched it, he let out a pained hiss. What did he do to it? He rolled up his sleeve to check, but couldn’t see anything. Odd.

Unless…

Logan made a mental note to record his theory later, but for now, he had to focus on finding his elusive friend.

-

“He just- he fucking laughed, Pat. He laughed.” Virgil had his head in his hands as he finished recounting the miserable event to his two, heavily-pixelated friends.

“I will destroy him,” Roman muttered darkly. “He’ll regret daring to even think about doing it by the time I’m through with him! I’ll- I’ll-”

He was stopped by Patton’s hand on his shoulder. “Ro, dear, calm down. And Virge, I’m sure he wasn’t laughing at you! From what you’ve told us, he doesn’t seem the type to just… do something as cruel as that!”

Virgil shrugged, tightening the hoodie around his face. “Patton, I love how you try to see the best in everyone, but-”

“If you say a bad word about yourself, I will drive myself and Pat up there to punch you in the face.”

Virge chuckled weakly and scrubbed his eyes. “Good luck convincing Patton to hit me. He wouldn’t even hurt a robber in self-defence without asking them to talk out their problems over some tea first.”

“Tea solves everything!” Patton jumped in. Virgil raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘case in point.’

“Indeed it does, my love.” Roman leant down to kiss Patton while Virge pretended to be disgusted.

“Get a room!”

-

Virgil shrugged off his hoodie and the shirt underneath. He grunted when the fabric pulled past his arm. Once it was off, he examined it closely. A large bruise had blossomed across the skin of his upper arm, the sight of it making Virgil grimace. He touched it lightly and yelped, immediately regretting his curiosity.

At least it wouldn’t be too hard to conceal. It was now autumn, and the low temperatures gave him an excuse to wear his jumper around everywhere (as if he didn’t already).

A rush of guilt and concern swept over him out of the blue. That was peculiar. Virgil tried to come up with a reason to the sudden worry, but came up blank. Figuring that was a problem for another day, he got ready for bed.

As he was going about his routine, he caught Logan’s stare through their windows. When he moved to wave, the other snapped his gaze away. Virgil let his half-raised hand fall limply to his side as he bit back the disappointment bubbling in him. If Logan didn’t want to talk to him, then that was alright. Perfectly fine. Just great.

Whatever, his mind spat bitterly as he yanked his blinds close. He didn’t care about the asshole anyway.

He didn’t care. Not one bit. Not even when the digital clock on his bedside table shone “2:00” into the darkness but he was still unable to sleep, and there was only so much time he could waste on his phone before he got a headache. However, this was only because his soulmate – he assumed it was his soulmate – was stressed out over something.

Huh, he huffed, stressing out at 2am? They were definitely soulmates then.

The thought brought a wry smile to his face, but that was immediately ruined by Virgil seeing light seep through the cracks in his blinds. Surely it wasn’t morning already? He checked the time yet again – nope, still two o’clock.

He sighed and sat up. It wasn’t like he was going to get any sleep anyway, so maybe getting abducted by aliens or kidnapped by burglars would make his night actually interesting.

Instead, when he pulled up his blinds and peeked out, he saw Logan hunched over his desk with his light on. He couldn’t figure out if he was relieved or disappointed.

On one hand, he wasn’t going to die, and on the other, he was always up for dying.

He was far too tired to be anxious, so without a second thought, he climbed out onto the roof and made his way over. When he knocked, Logan startled in his seat, making Virgil smirk. Recomposing himself and adjusting his glasses askew position on his face, Logan opened the window.

“Good evening, Virgil,” he greeted, stifling a yawn.

Virgil smirked when he saw the tie hanging loosely around his neck and the mess his hair was. It seemed Mr Perfect wasn’t perfect after all. When he took this in, he realised that there was no way this guy would have laughed at him earlier that day (yesterday, now).

“Try morning.” Logan stepped aside and Virgil hopped in. “Dude, it’s like 2am. Why are you even awake?”

“Why are you?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Don’t avoid my question.”

Logan stared for a moment, calculating, before he slumped against a wall and sighed. “I’m studying.”

Virgil snorted. “Like studying is going to do you any good at this time of night. I’m surprised you can even keep your eyes open long enough to focus on anything.”

“I can’t, that’s the issue. You don’t seem tired though.”

“I’m used to it,” Virge shrugged, then plonked himself down onto Logan’s bed. The owner of said bed frowned at him, and Virgil briefly felt concern flicker through him, but shrugged it off.

“Anyway,” Logan said, snapping out of his trance, “What were you here for?”

“Aliens, mostly, but then I figured you might be more interesting than you look. Mr Sanders’ new favourite pet staying up late? Woah, you must have some kind of secret life where you actually take risks. The next thing I know you’re actually going to go out onto the roof between us.”

“The roof is highly dangerous so I doubt I will. Also, I assure you that I do not lead a secret life.”

“That’s exactly the kind of thing someone leading a secret life would say.”

Logan tilted his head at Virge. “...Okay,” he murmured finally, before he let himself smile at the antics of his neighbour.

Virgil broke out into his own grin, and soon, under the influence of a lack of sleep, they laughed together, not stopping until their guts ache. For the first time in forever, there were no conflicting emotions in Virgil, just sheer happiness.

It came to an unspoken agreement that they would share a bed tonight, as Virgil was obviously far too tired to safely walk back and Logan… well, he’d come up with his excuse in the morning. He grabbed his one and only hoodie and handed it to Virge, who had been hugging his arms tight to his body.

“I noticed you seem more comfortable with yours, but since it's all the way in your room, I figured you could use mine. Unless you didn’t want to, which I understand. In fact, I’m sorry for overstepping my boundaries, just forget it-”

Virgil snatched it out of his hands before it could be pulled away. Blushing, he put it in, claiming he was cold. Logan relaxed and, without any more thought, got into bed. Although they were comfortable, each kept to their own sides as to not accidentally annoy one another, with Virgil on the very edge of his side. They fell asleep quickly after that.

Beep!

The incessant blaring of an alarm aroused Virgil from his slumber. He was vaguely aware of an ache somewhere, but couldn’t be bothered opening his eyes.

Until Logan spoke. “Good morning, Virge.”

He blinked awake. “Logan? Why are you upside down?” He muttered, before letting his head drop, which consequently made the rest of his precariously balanced body topple over the edge of the bed.

As soon as he stopped groaning, a hand grabbed his own and hauled up so he was face-to-face with a somehow fully dressed and laughing Logan.

“You know, if you continue your habit of collapsing, you’re better off wearing a helmet.”

Virgil scowled. “Fuck you.” He rubbed his head, trying to assess the damage, and saw Logan mimicking his actions. Virge raised an eyebrow. “Morning headache?”

Logan bit his lip, eyes glazed over as he stared off into space. Virgil clicked his fingers in front of his face until he looked up. “I said, do you have a morning headache? Because if so, I’ve got some painkillers in my room, since I get headaches a lot-”

“No, it’s fine. Besides, you should probably get moving if you don’t want to be late for school.”

“Fuck.” He went over to the window, but before he stuffed himself into it, he turned to Logan. “I’m sorry for invading your space and all that last night, I don’t know what came over me-”

“Don’t worry, it was fun,” Logan cut him off.

“What?” He asked, incredulous.

Logan looked him in the eye. “It really was. I don’t think I would have gotten much study done anyway, and you helped me relax. So thank you.”

Virgil coughed and averted his gaze. “No problem,” he murmured as he slipped away.

Logan watched him go, wondering when he would realise that he was still wearing Logan’s hoodie. Oh well, it wasn’t like he was ever going to wear it. Might as well put it to good use.

-

“Are you okay, Virgil? You haven’t complained about Logan once this call and I’m starting to fear for your sanity.”

“You? Caring about me? Jeez, someone alert the news, the world must be ending if Roman cares.”

“It’s not caring, it’s me not wanting to witness you finally snapping and killing someone!” He defended.

“Now, kiddos, let’s not fight each other-”

“I’m older than you,” Roman interjected.

“I’m…” Virgil paused, before realising he was the youngest of the lot. “Fuck.”

“Nice to meet you f-”

“I swear to fucking god, if you swear and make a bad joke, I will murder someone because there is no way this is my reality.”

Roman was quick to clamp his hand over Patton’s mouth. “Anywho, seriously though, why haven’t you been ranting about Logan? Did he do something?”

Patton nodded as best as he could. Through Roman’s hand, he managed a muffled sentence. “Yeah, did he?”

Virgil shrugged and faced away from the screen, mumbling into his hand. “Maybe he isn’t as bad as I originally thought.”

“What was that, Virge?” Patton asked, finally free of his restraint, while Roman wiped his hand free of Patton’s spit on the seat in disgust.

“I said, maybe he isn’t as bad as I originally thought!” Virgil near-yelled.

The two soulmates exchanged glances, then turned back to him. Patton wiggled his eyebrows while Roman recited Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18.

Virge let his head flop to the desk and suffered non-too silently while the two teased him. After a few minutes, he heard a knock at his window.

“Give me a sec, guys.”

He was more surprised to see Logan there then he should have been. Regardless, he opened his window and let Logan tumble in. Virgil snickered as he helped his friend up.

“Oh, how the tables have turned. Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you said the roof was dangerous or something.”

Logan blushed. “Well, yes, it is highly dangerous if one were to fall, but it’s also the fastest way to get to you. Besides, if appropriate care is taken, then the risks are minimised. You seemed distressed and I was also finding myself missing your company.”

“Wow, I thought you were joking when you said he speaks like a textbook!” Roman yelled.

“Shut up!” Virgil hissed.

“I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?”

“No, it’s fine, I just wish some people would learn to shut their mouths.” Virgil sighed and decided it was now or never. He pulled Logan over to his computer and plonked him in the seat in front of it. “Logan, these two assholes are Patton and Roman.” As he said their name, each waved. “Patton used to live in your house and he’s been my friend since forever. Roman is his bastard soulmate that I’ve grown to not hate… as much.”

“Hey, you prick!”

“As you can see, we’re all very close,” Patton talked over Roman. Then he turned to Virgil. “So, this is the guy that’s taken over my room and friend?”

Logan was taken aback by the accusatory tone. “I, uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything-”

“Knock it off, Pat,” Virgil scolded while Patton broke down into laughter.

“Oh, Virgil, he’s adorable! I can see why you’re obsessed with him now!”

“That’s not- Patton, shut the fuck up.”

He tsk-ed mockingly. “Language, Virge!”

“English,” Logan murmured, drawing the attention back to him.

“Logan using sarcasm?” Virge commented. “Wow, the world really must be ending today.”

“Most likely not today, however at the rate we’re going, humans will end up making this planet inhabitable, as we are a useless species seeming hell-bent on destroying ourselves.”

There was a beat, and then Roman, Virgil and Patton started laughing.

Logan frowned. “I don’t understand, what joke did I make?”

Virgil pat his shoulder. “It’s okay, Logan.”

...He was still very confused, but decided not to question it.

-

In the following months, they had begun to spend more and more time together. It was a common occurrence for one of their parents to come inside Logan’s bedroom and see Virgil wrapped in Logan’s hoodie or for them to spot Virgil subjecting Logan to fantasy movies against his will.

Currently, Virgil was lying on Logan’s bed, tossing the Rubik’s cube he snagged from his friend’s desk up and down while the other was hunched over his notebook writing down what Virge assumed to be ideas for their poetry project. He was half-heartedly suggesting themes when Logan turned to him.

“You just gave me the greatest idea – you’re a genius, Virge!” The sincere compliment made him drop the Rubik’s cube onto his face.

“Yep. As you can see, I’m the smartest of the smarts,” he drawled.

“I’m not joking.”

“You never do, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re an idiot to think that I’m intelligent.” Virgil let a coy smile play at his lips, but Logan didn’t seem to see the funny side.

“Virge.” The seriousness made him glance over. “You understand how language works to extract emotions for the hearts of an audience. I only understand the basic theory behind it, but I never know how to put it into use.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you know heaps of other stuff. English is just one thing I’m not shit at – and even then, that’s only poetry wise.”

Logan was silent for a moment. “...I don’t like it when you speak down on yourself like that.”

“Well, you gotta get used to it sometime,” Virgil snapped. He regretted it almost immediately, but there wasn’t a way he could take it back now. He just had to deal with the awkward silence.

Thankfully, Logan excused himself under the guise of getting them some water. As soon as the door closed softly behind him, Virgil figured he may as well try to make it up to him. He went over to his desk, intending to go over his notes and maybe start working on their poem which was supposed to have a theme of love – ugh, so cliché and general. Instead of whatever nerdy, poetry-related header he expected, he saw, in Logan’s same neat handwriting: “Hypothesis: Virgil is my soulmate.”

Under it are some dot points labelled “Evidence in Support of the Hypothesis” and, as Virgil flipped through a few pages, he realised it wasn’t just some. He was surprised at the sheer amount of writing on the pages and gulped when he got to the end. There was no “Evidence Against”.

He went back to the start, hands shaking. All this in what… six months? One thing stood out: the very first note that was only one word, much unlike the others which had an extraordinary amount of detail. “Bruises.” He paid no mind to the date beside it, and touched his arm, as if the bruise he had gained all those months ago was still there.

The memory of the odd worry that had overcome him the night after the incident was suddenly brought to the front of his mind. The window. Logan. Fuck. Was he his soulmate? The new information was too much too fast and Virgil let the book drop onto the desk, not caring nor seeing when it slid off onto the floor. His breath was coming in short gasps and fuck fuck fuck, he hadn’t had a panic attack in ages.

All the coping mechanisms he had ever learnt seemed to flee his mind and he was left breathless against the rough carpet (when did he fall?) of Logan’s room.

Logan, however, was rushing as fast he dared with two cups of water in his hand up the stairs. Something was wrong. He could feel it. He put one cup down when he got to the door so he’d actually be able to turn the handle, and it was lucky he did, because as soon as he entered to see Virgil pulling at his own hair, he dropped the other in an instant.

It was the first panic attack he had ever seen in real life and he tried to remember the methods various websites had suggested when he got curious. He spotted the notebook sprawled on the ground not too far from Virgil and realisation washed over him. He had caused this.

That doesn’t matter right now, his mind hissed. Help Virge. Logan gently shut the book and placed it on his desk and attempted to shove aside the steadily rising anxiety settled deep within him. “Virge, please,” he whispered, loud enough to be heard but not enough to scare him further. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy like that. I knew it was probably the wrong thing to do but I couldn’t help it… and look what’ve done. Virgil, I need you to breathe with me. You can do that, I know you can.”

He began to exaggerate his breathing and slowly but surely edged closer. Virgil noticed and flung towards him, making Logan yelp, but he settled once he realised Virge just wanted – needed – something to ground him. He allowed his friend to clutch his shirt as they breathed in and out together and after a while, the panicked feeling started to subside. Logan grinned in relief and the back of his mind started murmuring about soulmates, but Virgil was more important than some stupid theory.

Logan rubbed his back as Virge sobbed into his shirt, assuring him that it was going to be alright and other sweet-nothings he wouldn’t usually promise. He had always made exceptions for Virgil. He encouraged him to keep breathing as he stood them up, supporting Virgil as they made their way over to the bed.

Shocking Logan, Virge didn’t let go once they were lying down. He was mostly silent and pliant now after having worn himself out, but he trusted Logan to take care of him.

As he was drifting off to sleep, he felt Logan press a kiss to his hair.

“I’ll always do my best to protect you,” Logan breathed, and Virgil found himself believing it.

The next morning, Virgil wasn’t in bed with him. For a second, Logan feared he screwed it all up, but then Virgil wandered back into his room yawning and wearing the hoodie Logan lent him. Logan watched him for a bit, before Virgil finally turned to face him.

“So,” he began, “we should probably talk about last night.”

And they do. Virgil told Logan that he wasn’t mad at all, and revealed that it wasn’t that he hated the idea of Logan being his soulmate, but it was just so unexpected and overwhelming. He also admitted to thinking he was unworthy, which Logan refuted immediately.

However, he could still sense Virgil’s underlying doubt. He chewed his lip and toyed with the idea, before deciding fuck it. “Can I kiss you?” He asked.

Virgil’s eyes widened and Logan almost took it back, but then he nodded. Taking a deep breath, he leant in and-

Everything just felt… right.

There were no cliché fireworks or sudden sparks of emotion, but it was more like they had clicked into place. Any trace of unease melted away as they pulled apart, and they both felt at peace.

And then they laughed, because everything seemed so obvious now. How could they not be soulmates?

“So, Virge,” Logan began, still grinning. “I believe the next step is to ask you to be my boyfriend.”

Virgil nodded, too overjoyed to say anything, but Logan already knew his answer.

-

A week after the kiss, Logan and Virgil were anxiously waiting for the Skype call to connect. Or, at least, Virgil was. Logan was debunking his anxious rambles with calm reasoning and a gentle hand rubbing his back.

“I can’t do this,” Virge muttered.

“I know you can,” Logan stated. Before Virgil could reply, Patton and Roman’s faces came into view.

Patton took one look at the scene before he leant back in his chair with his arms crossed. “Alright, what happened? Did you kill someone?”

“If you did, I’ll help you hide the body,” Roman offered.

“Virgil?”

The boy unfroze and took a deep breath. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” Patton frowned. “You sound serious. Are you okay? Did you actually kill someone?”

“What- no, not that. Everything’s fine, but um-”

“We have recently discovered that we’re soulmates,” Logan finished. Virgil shot him a grateful smile.

There was a moment of silence. Logan felt Virge’s anxiety steadily rising, so he squeezed his hand. Then Patton broke out into a huge smile.

“I called it! I mean, it was so obvious that you two loved each other from the bottom of your shoes – get it? Because the bottom of shoes are soles and you two are soulmates?”

The other three groaned in unison, but otherwise enjoyed each other’s company. 

Virgil could get used to this.

A/N In other news, I still suck at endings. Now for the tag list (which I’ve been slacking off on):

When he was 3, Roman’s mother sat him down for the first time and told him about the timer on his wrist - on everyone’s wrist. After all, he was fairly inquisitive, and was making continuously wilder theories as to why his mother’s timer was at zero, while his was still steadily counting down.

That was the day that he was first introduced to soulmates.

And ever since that day, Roman had been obsessed. He had many fantasies about his soulmate. After all, the thought of someone made for you was a very romantic idea to Roman, and he had grown up on the classic Disney films, with tales of true love and happily ever afters. He dreamed of their first meeting often, the main subject of his daydreams, where he would sweep his soulmate of her feet and live his happily ever after.

As he grew up, Roman realised many things about himself, but he never tried to hide the timer, like some people he knew. Some people he knew did, wanting the meeting to be a surprise, a chanced event, or even hating the idea of soulmates entirely. Roman wanted to know, wanted to expect it, wanted to make sure that everything was absolutely perfect. Besides, the timer was discrete enough, and he had picked up the habit of fondly running his thumb over the steadily decreasing numbers.

The timer steadily continued to count down, and Roman eventually realised that he would finally, finally meet his soulmate on his twenty-first birthday. A wonderful birthday present from the universe, he told himself, and anyone who would listen when the subject of soulmates came up. And as the days finally, finally approached, the excitement he felt grew and grew and grew.

Then it was there. His twenty-first birthday. The fated day that Roman would meet his one true love.

He awoke with more hope in his heart than he had for a long time.

“I would ask, but if I did, I wouldn’t hear the end of it.” Virgil commented dryly when Roman walked out of his room that morning, a grin brighter than the sun on his lips. “Happy birthday. Patton made breakfast for us. He said he’s sorry that he had to leave before you woke up.” He gestured to the stack of pancakes, with syrup and various fruits in bowls, ready to be added to the top as Roman saw fit.

“Today’s the day, Virge!” Roman sat down, the grin still on his lips. “Today’s the day that I finally meet him!” He looked down at the band around his wrist, for once covering the timer. Patton had given it to him to stop Virgil and Roman bickering as much two days ago - Virgil had gotten sick of Roman’s constant rambles about soulmates, and Roman had a feeling Patton felt the same way. “Can I please check how much time I have left?”

“No.” Virgil narrowed his eyes when he saw Roman’s fingers inching towards the wristband. “Eat, get dressed, then get out of here. Logan is coming over, and while I can’t punch you for being a nuisance, he certainly can.” He gave Roman a saccharine smile. “Wouldn’t want your soulmate to see you with a bloody face, would you?”

With a huff, Roman started to eat his breakfast, while Virgil tidied up the place - washing dishes, putting away the ingredients Patton had used. All getting ready for his nerd friend to come over.

Not that Roman had actually met said nerd friend. Last time he asked Virgil, he had given him a dismissive wave and muttered about Logan and a cold home and being “so anti-timer, he makes me look normal.”

Roman went through the usual motions of getting ready, putting on the clothes that made him look the best. A pair of black jeans, a white shirt, and his favourite gold and red jacket. Humming to himself, he grabbed his wallet and his phone, calling a goodbye to Virgil as he stepped out of the apartment.

And right into someone else.

B-beep.

The sound of the two timers, going off at nearly the same time. His wrist buzzed slightly with the vibration of the sound, and he swore could feel it travelling up through his arm.

His breath caught in his throat. His heart stopped. He froze in his place, gaze finding beautiful brown framed by black and- oh.

Oh.

First shock, clear those chestnut eyes. Then clarity, understanding made crystal as he stared at Roman. Then something - something indescribable. A mixture of emotions that Roman couldn’t hope to comprehend. Then a startling coldness, a calculating look that chilled Roman to the bone.

“Roman, why are you just standing ther-” Virgil moved to the door, pulling it open. “Oh. Logan. You’re here.”

That seemed to startle Logan out of whatever thoughts he was having, a cool smile on his lips as he turned to Virgil. “Indeed I am. And I’m just met your roommate, it seems.” That calculating gaze was set on Roman once more, a hand extended to him. “Roman, yes? Virgil has told me so much about you.”

A beat. Roman glanced between the two of them. He was unsure how to react to, well, all of this. Slowly, he took Logan’s hand and shook it, once, twice, let go. “Likewise. All good things, I hope?”

“If I said yes, I’d be lying.” Logan smirked, sharing a look with Virgil. Roman had a feeling he knew exactly what the look was for. No doubt the two of them had endlessly laughed at Roman’s dreams of meeting his soulmate.

Virgil rolled his eyes, a fond smile plucking at the edges of his lips. “Well, it’s great that you two met, but don’t you have a soulmate to meet, Roman?” His tone turned pointed, as did his stare.

“I-” Roman’s face felt hot as he glanced at Virgil, then Logan. The timer still seemed to buzz under his skin, the sensations travelling into his fingers, up his arm. “I guess I do.” He muttered, running his fingers through his hair. There was no use keeping it tidy now, he supposed, since his apparent soulmate didn’t even care. “See you later, Virge.” He muttered, not a word to Logan.

“Good luck finding him.” Virgil’s voice was strangely soft, a genuineness usually only found when he was talking to Patton.

One step. Two steps. Three steps. Four. Further and further away from the man who he was meant to be destined for.  

With every step, Roman could feel his heart breaking, dreams shattering. He wanted to turn around, grab Logan by the shoulders, beg him to say something, tell him this wasn’t some awful nightmare, reassure him that he would love him back. But Roman did not look back.

Virgil was good at keeping secrets.

Like, really good.

Like, hiding-your-panic-attacks-from-the-people-you’ve-lived-with-for-years good.

He never saw any point in telling the others. They didn’t know that whenever Thomas got panic attacks, Virgil did too. And when that happened they were almost always too angry with Virgil for causing their host pain to confront him. Yes, it sucked, and yes, it hurt like hell, but he figured that it was easier for everyone to see him as the bad guy. There wasn’t much he could do to change their minds, anyway.

That is, until he cut himself off and they decided to come snooping around in his room looking for him.

Since that day, things had been...weird. Better, but weird. Virgil felt more calm, and the other sides were actively making an effort to spend more time with him. Eventually, he somehow found himself romantically falling for each of the other sides. He, of course, shoved these thoughts and feelings into the darkest recesses of his mind and kept them there under lock and key. There was no way he was going to say anything. The four of them had such good chemistry now, he’d be damned if he ruined it with his own selfishness-

Until the day Patton kissed him out of nowhere during a movie marathon. What had followed was a blur of proclamations of love and confessions and tears-mostly from Virgil-as they realized they were all in love with each other.

So yeah. Things had been weird. But Virgil felt so incredibly good and warm and loved. He had his moments, sure, but he was feeling the best he ever had in his entire existence. He felt on top of the world. Shared kisses and endless cuddling and whispered assurances of love at 3 in the morning when he couldn’t sleep. It was all so...amazing.

But he had been riding this high for months. It only made sense that he would eventually crash and burn.

____________________

Thomas was grocery shopping when it happened.

Everything had been going fine. Virgil had stayed up late the previous night so he was lazily lounging on the couch, listening to Logan and Roman as they argued over what Thomas should buy (“Look at that colorful baking mix! Imagine the possibilities, Lo!” “He doesn’t even know how to bake”) while Patton tried to mediate between the two.

Virgil let his eyes slip shut, a small smile dancing on his lips. He couldn’t believe how content he felt. In this moment, listening to his partners bicker over nothing, he was totally zen. It was unfamiliar, and he was soaking up every second of it. He let his mind wander, when all of a sudden-

SLAM!

Virgil was on his feet in an instant, heart racing. He saw Thomas on his hands and knees in the middle of the store, groceries scattered around him. He quickly turned around and distantly Virgil could hear frantic apologies from a mother who had a death grip on 2 kids, who had slammed into Thomas.

The woman reached a hand out to Thomas, and Virgil’s brain sparked to life. He started shaking as Thomas weakly pushed the hand away, shaking his head. “It-it’s ok-k-kay, i’m f-fine,” he stuttered out.

Logan saw what was happening and snapped into action. “Thomas, go to the bathroom. Now,” he ordered. The host obeyed immediately, walking through the store on shaky legs, groceries long forgotten. He somehow found his way to the family bathroom and quickly ducked inside, bolting the door.

But Virgil couldn't comprehend any of this. All he knew was that his heart was pounding way harder than it should and his vision was quickly tunneling and he couldn’t breathe, fuck, why can’t he breathe.

“..gil? Virgil!”

Virgil shook his head nonsensically. Thomas slammed his back against the door and slid down to the floor. Virgil mirrored him in the mindscape, pulling his knees up to his chest and desperately trying to get air into his lungs.

“-il? Verge, hon, I need you to look at me. Can you hear me?”

Distantly, Virgil nodded. He didn't know who the voice belonged to but his subconscious clung to it.

“May we touch you?”

Virgil forced himself to nod again. He felt hands slip into his own, and another pair rest on his shoulders.

“Can you open your eyes for me?”

Virgil didn’t remember closing his eyes, but he mustered up all his will and slowly opened them. He was vaguely aware that the hands in his belonged to Roman’s, which meant that the hands on his shoulders and the eyes Virgil was staring into belonged to-

“That’s good, Virgil,” Logan said softly, “Just keep looking into my eyes. We’re going to breathe together, okay? In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. Just follow Roman and I, alright?”

Roman guided Virgil’s hands to rest on both his and Logan’s chests. Feeling their heartbeats under his palms grounded Virgil somewhat, and he could already feel himself being brought back to Earth.

He struggled to match the rising and falling of the chests under his hands. It took him a few minutes, but he eventually fell into their pattern. In for 4-3-2-1, hold for 7-6-5-4-3-2-1, out for 8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1. Repeat. And again. Just follow Logan and Roman.

Sometime later, Virgil realized that both his heart-rate and vision had both returned to normal. He took in an experimental deep breath, nearly sobbing with relief as he felt his lungs fill with air. He took his time letting it out, relishing in the feeling.

“Verge?”

Virgil let his head sag as the guilt and embarrassment set in. “ ‘M sorry,” he mumbled, shutting his eyes.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Logan asked, not moving.

Virgil fought back tears. “Just hold me,” he whispered.

He was instantly enveloped in warmth as arms wrapped around him from either side. The positioning was slightly awkward but he didn’t care. He buried his head in Roman’s shoulder and gripped both of Logan’s hands in his own. He let silent tears fall, too tired and emotional to get mad at himself for breaking down like this. He was sure Roman could feel Virgil’s tears soak through the material of his shirt, but if he noticed he didn’t say anything.

Virgil didn’t know how long they stayed like that. He didn’t know how long it took for his tears to stop flowing, but when they did he let himself sag into the tight hold his partners had on him, exhaustion washing over him.

“Virgil?”

Virgil didn’t respond.

“Look at us, honey,” Roman said softly.

Reluctantly, Virgil lifted his head and looked into the concerned eyes of his partners. Roman gently took one of his hands from Logan’s, leaving him feeling vulnerable and open. He didn’t like it.

“Is Thomas okay?” he asked, hoping to divert the attention off himself.

Roman frowned as he answered. “Yes, Patton is taking care of him. But..are you okay, Verge?”

“I’m fine.”

Logan’s gaze turned stern. “Virgil-”

“Lo, I’m fine. Really.”

Virgil didn’t know if he was lying or not.

“Just...just tired, is all.”

Logan nodded, sighing. “Okay. We’ll let you rest. Let us worry about getting Thomas home.” He looked at Roman. “Ro, could you…?”

Arms wrapped around Virgil as Roman lifted him into his arms bridal-style. Virgil leaned into his chest, letting unconscoiusness slowly take over him. “Thanks, Ro, “ he murmured.

He was unconscious before he could hear Roman’s response.

____________________

When Virgil woke up, it was to gentle fingers carding through his hair. He subconsciously leaned into the touch, sighing contentedly.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” a soft vice said above him.

He opened his eyes and found himself staring up into Patton’s gaze. He realized that he was laying on the couch and wondered what he was doing there.  All of a sudden, the memories of what had happened rushed back to him and he felt his anxiety kick in, eyes widening..

Seeing this, Patton quickly shook his head. “It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay, don’t panic. No one is mad and no one is hurt. We’re okay, Thomas is okay, you're okay,” he said reassuringly. 

Virgil didn’t respond, instead pushing himself to a sitting position. He saw Roman sitting on the floor in front of the couch, a little ways away. Without a word, Virgil held a hand out, and the prince was instantly at his side, caressing the offered hand.

“How do you feel, love?” Roman asked softly.

Virgil shrugged. “ ‘M fine.”

Virgil felt his heart clench as Patton looked at him, sadness in his eyes. “We should talk about this, Verge,” he told him gently. “With everyone. Do you think you’re up for that?”

Virgil let his gaze drop and shrugged before nodding. “I guess,” he muttered. He really, really didn’t want to have this talk, but he figured it was better to get it over with.

Patton nodded. “Okay. Logan is with Thomas right now. Let’s go meet them, okay?”

Virgil sunk out of the mindscape alongside the others, dreading what was about to come.

Prompt: “Virgil and Logan wake up in another world where Thomas is the dad to the sides. Roman and Patton are the oldest and are a year apart (Patton is eldest). All are in high school and Thomas adopted Virgil and Logan (twins) about two years ago. Patton is in 12th grade, Roman is 11th and Virgil and Logan are 9th grade. Thomas divorced a year after adopting the two. The wife was emotionally abusive to Virgil and Logan. Remember, they are going to be extremely confused when they wake up and so are the others. I’d say the doctors would just call it amnesia.”

~~

“Well, this isn’t my room.”

“Precisely what I was thinking.”

Virgil whacked his head on the ceiling, not expecting some stranger to be in...whatever room he’d woken up in.

“Who’s there?” he called out, trying to psych himself up enough to look over the edge of the bunk bed.

“I am Logan, Thomas’s logical side. And you are?”

“You really don’t recognize me, Logan? I’m hurt,” Virgil said it sarcastically, but it really did hurt. How did Logan just...forget? Then again, it didn’t sound like Logan’s voice at all. Maybe it was a trick.

Suddenly, a pair of youthful, perceptive eyes appeared in front of his face, framed by square glasses. Virgil yelped and fell backwards, this time hitting his head on the wall behind him. “Ah, Virgil, I should have known. Is this your fault? If this is one of your cursey, antagonistic things with Roman, I would appreciate it if you left me out of it.”

“What?” he asked.

“This form is small and obnoxious, and I can’t shapeshift or teleport. I don’t care if you wish to look this way, but change me back, now!”

“I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever you think I did, I didn’t do. Don’t yell at me.”

“Well if you didn’t do it, then who--”

“Rise and shine, Twinsies!” A voice called out as the door of the room burst open. The person now standing in the doorway had to be Patton, even though he barely looked like the Patton they knew. He wore a blue t-shirt, a gray letterman jacket, looked like a high schooler, and seemed to have more genuine confidence than the person they were used to. He seemed more like the protagonist of a high school movie than the funny sidekick he usually embodied.

“Patton, what is going on?” Logan snapped, not even bothering with pleasantries.

Patton was slightly taken aback by the sudden hostility. “Chill, kiddo, I was just making sure you were awake for school.”

Logan dropped down to the floor and started walking towards Patton. Now that Virgil could see him fully, he was shocked. Patton may look like a high schooler, but Logan looked like a twelve-year-old. “We don’t go to school, Patton. We’re twenty-eight, and Thomas hasn’t had to deal with school in several years. If you’re going to involve us in some stupid fantasy game, you should at least ask us if we want to participate.”

Virgil stayed quiet. He didn’t want to hurt Patton’s feelings, but he also did not want to participate in whatever this was. Personally, he would prefer just going back to sleep.

Patton gave Logan a strange look. “Are...are you feeling alright, champ?”

“No! I am not alright! I am angry that I’m being put through this without my consent! I wish to be changed back immediately and returned to my normal state of existence!”

Patton didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. He stepped back out of the room and called out, “Hey Dad? Can you come here for a sec?”

Virgil was expecting Roman to be the dad, since he was the only one left. But Roman was easily recognizable when he came in behind the old guy who Virgil assumed to be the dad in this situation. Roman’s trademark irritated look gave it away, and he finally looked like the person he always acted like: a self-absorbed teenager.

“What’s going on, boys?” the old guy asked.

“Well, uh,” Patton said. “Logan, tell him what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know who you’re supposed to be, but fine, I’ll say it to you too. I want to not be involved in whatever this is. I want someone in this household to change me back into my twenty-eight-year-old self, since it seems that my ability to do that on my own has been suppressed, and I want to go back to my own room, or if that’s not acceptable, my own classroom, or my debate hall. Just back to my space in general would be acceptable. I want you all to leave me out of your ridiculous games, unless you ask me first.”

“You...don’t know who I am?” the old guy asked. For some reason, he sounded really hurt.

“Why should I? I assume you are some randomly generated fantasy character, probably of Roman’s making.”

Virgil zoned out for a few minutes, partially falling asleep, and wishing the rest of them would shut up. He really was tired, and he wasn’t fond of having his shape or location changed without consent. He only tuned in again when he heard Patton say his name, and, not knowing what was said before that, Virgil said, “I agree with Logan, Pat, just end the game. I want to sleep.”

“Virgil, how old do you think you are?”

Virgil almost said “Too old for this,” but thought better of it. “Twenty-eight,” he said, irritated. “Just like you. Just like Thomas. Let me sleep.” With that, he put the pillow on top of his head to drown out the noise.

Of course, that meant that when the pillow was taken out of his hands and Roman was telling him to get dressed, he had even less idea of what was going on than Logan did. Clearly, they were still a part of whatever obnoxious thing this was, so it was begrudgingly that Virgil got dressed and went downstairs, but he did it nonetheless.

They all piled into the car, and Virgil let the old guy start the car and pull out without even asking where they were going. That was his first mistake. His second mistake was not bothering to ask until they were walking in the hospital doors. None of them were injured, so he assumed that they were there to visit someone. That was his third mistake.

So really, it wasn’t until a person in scrubs called his name that he started freaking out on the inside. He hated doctors. And needles. And hospitals were full of both. The other sides knew this. Why were they making him do this? To see if he would chicken out? Well he’d show them.

As he followed the doctor, though, only the weird old man went with. That made him even more nervous. Surely the others would follow him if they were trying to make him chicken out? None of this was making sense.

Everything was going too fast. It was too bright. The doctor was interrogating him, asking him questions that he didn’t know the answers to, and when he did know the answers, the old man said he was wrong. His birthday wasn’t April 24th. He wasn’t 28 years old. He hadn’t known Thomas Sanders for more than three years. He kept arguing with the old man, asking what did he know? He didn’t even know the guy. The guy said he was Thomas Sanders. It was absurd. He didn’t even act like Thomas. The doctors asked him if there was a history of abuse with Virgil. “Thomas” said something about his ex-wife. Virgil was even more confused. Abuse? Ex-wife? Thomas? Virgil was getting more panicky. None of this made sense at all. The doctors tried to make him calm down. They scanned his brain at one point. They asked more questions. The fake Thomas was there throughout.

Then, suddenly, they were done, and he was back in the waiting room. Logan was gone, and so was the fake Thomas. He tried to ask Patton what was going on, why they were at the hospital, why he got his brain scanned, but Patton just wrapped his arms around him, started petting his hair, and said, “Shh, don’t worry. I’m sure everything’s alright. The doctors will tell Dad if there’s something wrong.” Fury and panic mixed together with helplessness. He wasn’t a child. He shouldn’t be treated like a child. He didn’t want to be touched. He shoved Patton away, and started running his hands through his hair, trying to focus on his breathing. Patton tried to touch him again, and he snapped at him. He wasn’t sure what he said, but Patton left him alone after that. Roman got him a glass of water at some point. Virgil never thought he would see the day where Roman was more helpful than Patton.

Finally, fake Thomas and Logan came back. Fake Thomas was talking with a doctor, and walking slowly. Logan stormed over, looking furious and possibly humiliated, and sat down next to Virgil. Roman asked, “Are you alright?” Logan shook his head, clearly too worked up to talk.

Finally, fake Thomas came over. Both Patton and Roman jumped up, asking what was going on, what was wrong, was there something wrong at all? Fake Thomas just said, “Come on kiddos, let’s go home.”

Once they were piled once more in the car, Patton and Roman once again started asking questions. Finally, fake Thomas said, “The doctors said that Virgil and Logan have amnesia. Their memories will likely return in a few days or so. The doctors aren’t sure what triggered the amnesia, because there’s no brain damage, so we need to keep a close eye on them in the meantime.”

“What the heck are you talking about?” Virgil said. “I don’t have amnesia. I know exactly who I am. Whatever weird game you guys are trying to play is operating under increasingly weak premises.”

“Virgil, this isn’t a fucking game!” Patton said. “You keep saying that, but it’s not a game!”

Virgil was stunned into silence. Patton said ‘fuck.’ Patton doesn’t say that. Patton’s strongest word was ‘ass,’ and even then, he usually turned it into a not-swear. Patton looked genuinely distraught and worried. He looked over at Roman. He also looked worried.

Maybe...maybe Patton and Roman thought this was real. But that didn’t make sense. Neither he nor Logan had created this...whatever it was. Therefore, logically, one of the other two should know what was going on. You couldn’t just create an illusion and then not know it was you. Could you?

The ride home was quiet. Everyone was absorbed in their own thoughts. Roman was scrolling on his phone, probably on Instagram. Patton kept texting someone, though rather sporadically. Logan was purposefully looking straight forward, and Virgil could almost see the gears turning, trying to make connections. Virgil had decided that as soon as they got home, he would drag Logan upstairs to compare notes and figure out what was going on.

Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone else was conspiring against them. As soon as they were in the door, fake Thomas asked if everyone could help make a late lunch. He had Logan and Virgil directly helping with the cooking, while Patton set the table and Roman washed dishes. They were making chili and cornbread (“Logan’s favorite,” fake Thomas had said). By the time it was finished, it was late enough to be considered an early dinner rather than a late lunch. Virgil and Roman put everything on plates and in bowls, and Patton put a piece of blue candy on everyone’s plate (“Saltwater taffy, your favorite!” Patton had said to Virgil). Dinner was full of forced, stilted conversation, interspersed with “Do you remember this? How about that?” It was the most irritating, exhausting meal Virgil had ever taken part in. He couldn’t wait to escape.

Right before Virgil finished his dinner, Patton asked, “Hey Verge, do you want to play catch with me once you’re done eating?”

“Not really,” Virgil said.

“Oh, okay,” Patton said, looking like he hadn’t expected to be rejected. “How about, uh, a card game? Do you remember how to play War?”

Virgil got the feeling that Patton was just going to keep pestering him until he gave in to doing something. He’d only played War once or twice, but from what he could remember, it was a pretty low-intensity game. “Fine. Let’s play War,” he said. Maybe it would be a short game and he could go up to his room.

As Logan started walking upstairs, Roman caught him by the arm. “Hey Lo, you wanna take a walk with me?” Logan glared, and opened his mouth to speak, but Roman cut him off with a, “You don’t have to talk, and we don’t have to say anything about this amnesia stuff or anything. You just seem kind of stressed out, and walking always helps me, so I thought I’d suggest it.”

Logan was surprised into silence. Roman, pre-empting his needs? Gently trying to help? Not forcing his ideas on others, certain that they were the only correct ones?

“Um, well, sure,” Logan said. “Sure, let’s take a walk.” Maybe the walk would provide insight into why everyone was acting so weirdly, or how to make things return to normal.

He followed Roman outside, and they started down the sidewalk at a fairly easy pace. Under the afternoon sun, they walked in comfortable silence only occasionally broken by Roman pointing out a landmark, a friend’s house, or even a bird or dog. Of course Logan could tell that Roman was trying to jog his memories, but he was treating Logan as if he was a visitor to this town, like he was a stranger in the fantasy part of the mindscape, and Logan honestly didn’t mind it that way. It wasn’t the overbearing, “Do you remember this? Or this?” that Thomas and Patton had been doing over dinner, it was a gentle, “Oh hey, in case you forgot.”

They walked for hours, just wandering through town. Roman had been right, this was absolutely relaxing. And every once in awhile, Roman would check in with him. Was he getting tired? Was he ready to retire from their adventure? Did he want to get some ice cream? Logan wondered if this was how the real Roman acted on quests. If so, he was more able to understand why he’d come across people in Roman’s realm who really did refer to him as a “Prince Charming.” He was being uncharacteristically thoughtful.

Eventually, Roman’s phone went off. He glanced at it, and said, “Dad says we have to get back home. You gotta be rested up in case you feel like going to school tomorrow. And I should probably do homework, I guess.”

They wandered back to the house in the twilight, mostly quiet, completely relaxed. That attitude dissipated once they opened the front door. Logan saw Virgil and Patton playing cards in the living room. Every fibre of Virgil’s small teenaged form was tense with annoyance, yet somehow, Patton hadn’t noticed. Patton was chattering away about some relative or another, but Virgil seemed to have tuned him out completely, focusing only on flipping the cards.

“How many games have you played?” Roman asked, surprised that they were still playing cards.

“Just. One.” Virgil said, through gritted teeth.

“It’s been like four hours!” Roman said.

“We both have two aces, and so far we haven’t been able to line them up so that one of us can take them in a War,” Patton explained.

“Hm,” Roman said. “Well, dad called us home because it’s almost bedtime for the twins, so you might consider trying to wrap it up.”

“I forfeit,” Virgil said immediately.

“Aww, Virgil!”

“I’m done. I’m gonna go to bed.” He stood up and did his typical finger salute. “Night.”

“Night,” everyone else replied.

Logan followed him up the stairs. Once they were in their room, he asked, “Have you obtained any clues as to how we’re going to get back to normal? Or any thoughts as to who--”

“Tomorrow, Logan,” Virgil said. It was clear that he was past his limits. He flopped onto the bottom bunk, only kicking off his shoes and not bothering to do anything else before curling around a pillow and throwing a blanket over himself.

Logan didn’t get into bed quite as quickly, but since Virgil didn’t want to talk, he soon followed, climbing into the top bunk. He hoped that tomorrow would bring answers. More than that, he hoped that tomorrow, everything would be normal again.

And it was. 

Logan woke up feeling light and conceptual, rather than heavy and physically existing. Around him was a very logically designed bedroom. He snapped his fingers, and was suddenly sitting in the living room, on the couch. He snapped them again, and he was standing up in front of his mirror. He looked twenty-eight again, rather than fourteen.

Suddenly he heard delighted whooping, and he opened his door to see Virgil sliding past in sock feet. Virgil yelled, “We’re back!” and Logan grinned. Roman opened the door opposite, scowling and looking highly disheveled.

“Why is Panic at the Mindscape yelling at…” Roman looked to where there was presumably a clock in his room. “...six-forty am? People are sleeping here, you know.”

Patton appeared at the end of the hall, where Virgil was. “Kiddo, what are you doing?”

Virgil stopped. “Patton, say a swear word,” he said.

Patton looked offended. “No!” he said. “There’s no need for such language in this household.”

“Oh, thank God!” Virgil said, hugging the fatherly trait and then running off. Patton looked completely confused, but then he smiled.

 There were several ways that creative block tended to be represented, all of them, ironically enough, very creative.

Logan never quite understood creative block and why it had to be physically represented. Come to think of it, Roman was the one that had physical things happen to him the most often. Perhaps it was his own dramatics. He could still do the practical and survival based elements of his job, but each time he acted like he was completely incapacitated and it often got on Logan’s nerves.

But this? This was the single most absurd way the creative block had ever been represented. And that included the time Roman had built a wall of bricks around himself into a literal block and had refused to come out.

Logan sighed as he adjusted his satchel and the rope coiled and hanging from his arm. An undead dragon witch looking for revenge. Trudging out into the daydream landscape to find Creativity. This was not how today should have gone.

He hesitated before the door. For some reason he and the other two hadn’t been able to enter Creativity’s room through the usual method of thinking about what Thomas was passionate about. It was decided Logan should go alone through the door because thinking through creative blocks and making plans was kind of his area and fear often only made it worse.

There was no knowing what was on the other side. Irrational to be afraid. Even if the door is far more dull than is common for the prince.

Logan had Thomas practice the breathing exercise. It cleared away much of Virgil’s influence. Alright, going to save the Prince. Here we go.

Logic twisted the door handle and pulled. He was hit in the face with a cold wind and violently sucked inside, twisting and being thrown about like he was caught in the world’s largest dust devil, or it’s smallest tornado. The door vanished behind him like the lost gateway to Narnia and he found himself on his hands and knees in a clearing in a forest that in no way represented Thomas’ apartment.

He stood up and tried to straighten himself out. His hair was an unprofessional mess now and he had become tangled in the rope.

“I do not understand this world.” Logan grumbled as he undid tangle after tangle and eventually got his body free.

Just as he did so, a roar sounded and some interestingly purple birds flew from a nearby tree in a screeching panic.

“I am going to make you pay for that.” Came a comically deep voice echoing across the landscape.

“Ah, there she is.” He said as he coiled up the last of the rope. “If cliches play out she will most likely be keeping him in a tower or abandoned castle nearby.”

He walked for only about five minutes before he found both of those things surrounded by a boiling river of blood.

Logan cleaned and adjusted his glasses to make sure he was seeing right. He was. There was a crumbling black and silver castle with one very tall tower surrounded by a boiling river of what smelled like blood and had the dragon witch herself prowling on top of it. A cliche mess if he had ever seen one. If only he could teleport or use any other advantages of the mind here. But all he had was himself. This was a problem to be solved. It wouldn’t just go away.

He pondered for a minute, hiding and trying to not look at the partially exposed skull on the undead dragon witch. After a moment he had an idea.

“Perhaps you should leave the house, Thomas.”

Thomas did leave the house. It took a while but after a bit Logan knew Thomas was sitting in a public library with an open notebook ready to brainstorm. A simple bridge made of wood appeared over the river which Logic promptly walked over.

The dragon witch turned her one good eye towards the bridge. Logan held his own mouth shut as he heard the wood splintering from his hiding place. He slowly counted to one hundred before looking out from behind the large piece of rubble. It looked like the dragon witch was busy making more rubble.

“Quite a vengeful spirit.” He noted, before using the new bits and pieces of broken castle as cover.

Thomas was still struggling. Logan suggested he read something easy to get his mind on something else. That would keep the others busy in the meantime, anyways.

The climb up the tower was harrowing to put it lightly. Logan was not made to do things of this sort. He was a teacher for goodness sake. Not an adventuring dimwitted knight. No, the moronic prince charming was the one in need of rescue.

This was not how today was supposed to go.

“This was not how today was supposed to go.” Logan said angrily as he fell onto the floor of the highest room in the tallest tower feeling like he might pass out.

Roman was gagged, but the eye roll he gave accurately said “Oh, my hero” in the most sarcastic tone imaginable.

Logan stood up and pointed. “Watch it.”

Roman sighed through his nose like “Oh, alright.” and Logan pulled a bobby pin out of his hair.

A questioning look.

“Do you not wish to leave? The pin would have gotten lost in my bag.”

A look of horror at the thought of being left there. Logan smirked. One good thing was coming out of today. Somebody was listening.

He picked the lock with surprising skill and let Princey remove the gag himself.

“Why did you not remove that first?” Roman asked, adjusting his jaw.

“I knew you would immediately begin talking if I did.”

It wasn’t the first time Princey had slapped Logan, but it was still a slight shock. Logan decided to bite his lip and ignore it, though every fiber of his imaginary being longed to snap back a retort.

He reached his arm into the small satchel he had brought with him and pulled Roman’s samurai sword seemingly out of nowhere.

“How...” Roman began,

“You have seen Mary Poppins and Harry Potter and Doctor Who. Please don’t act surprised. Now you’ve killed her once. Do it again.”

“I have already stabbed her spleen.”

“Then go for the brains. We do not have all day.”

The two returned to the mind palace tired and covered in rotting blood. Patton looked up from a newspaper that had the Tumblr symbol on it. Virgil was looking on his phone.

“So, how’d it go?” Patton asked happily.

Roman gave a gesture that made Morality audibly gasp in shock before he sank out to his normal room.

“Logan! Where did Princey learn such a rude gesture?”

“Oh Patton,” Said Logan before mocking what Roman had done. “This is the mind. Nobody can see us in here.”