Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had happened so suddenly; one moment, Virgil was alive and smiling, his purple hair falling delicately in his face as he smiled at Roman, surrounded by their friends, just looking perfectly happy, the next moment he was lying on the grass, his body soaking, limp and lifeless as Roman and Logan started pumping his chest in a desperate attempt to bring him back to life, then a chorus of screams, yells and pleading as a small group of boys realised that it was too late, and Virgil was already dead.

Roman could remember every detail of that day, the way the sun shone down from the cloudless sky, the bright green of the grass, the lake so still it looked like glass. He could remember lying under the old sycamore tree, Virgil next to him, watching Remus chase Janus down the hill in a very Remus fashion, Patton sitting cross-legged on the grass making flower crowns out of the daisies and clovers that surrounded them and Logan sitting with his back against the tree, completely absorbed in his book. The birds were chirping cheerily, yellow butterflies flitted around them and a soft breeze gave small amount of relief from the gentle heat of the day. If Roman could pause this moment and experience it forever, he would do so in heartbeat, for he felt completely and perfectly happy. Looking back, Roman would do absolutely anything to stop the world from ever continuing to spin, as moments afterwards Roman’s whole life had shattered.

At the time, a swim seemed like an obvious thing to do. The lake was still and cool, a perfect solution to the heat of the day, and it looked so enticing. In that moment, Roman could’ve kissed Patton for suggesting it. Now, Roman could have killed Patton for doing it. It wasn’t that Virgil’s death was Patton’s fault, in fact, if Patton hadn’t suggested a swim, Roman probably would’ve. They had gone swimming in the lake countless times, and every time had been perfectly fine. If anything, Virgil’s death was Roman’s fault, for not being able to save him, for not realising that he was missing sooner, for not being able to bring him back to life, for being the one to encourage him to swim in the first place. But at the time, a swim seemed like heaven and all of them stripped down to their shorts, cheers and laughter as Remus cannonballed into the lake, breaking the serenity of the water, quickly followed by a giggling Patton. Roman, not to be outdone by his twin, did a flip off the wooden fishing platform. Janus quickly ran into the water, still with his shirt on to hide the psoriasis that covered the left side of his face and torso. Logan and Virgil were rather reluctant to go in, but after much yelling and persuading they took of their shirts (and in Virgil’s case his hoodie, though how he was still wearing it in this weather was beyond Roman), and went in. Logan squealed slightly at the waters temperature, which cause Roman and Virgil to go into a fit of laughter watching the stoic nerd have such a comical reaction to the coolness of the water.

The group all played around for a couple of hours, having races, being dunked and attacked by Remus and any piece of pond life he managed to find (generally gross wet plants, with occasional snail or bug, but he did manage to catch a fish, and was about to eat it live, but let it go after being reprimanded by Patton), and then floating in the water, talking and splashing each other. Roman couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment Virgil disappeared, but he could remember every detail of the moment they realised. Patton and Roman were splashing each other, Remus was on the hunt for another fish so he could put it down someone’s pants, and Janus and Logan were sitting in the shallows, discussing nerd stuff like politics and philosophy. It was Patton who noticed Virgil wasn’t there, and they all quickly flew into a bit of panic. Or at least, Patton did. Roman was panicking inwardly, but he was trying to stay strong, though Remus wasn’t helping in the slightest, as he kept mentioning all of the horrible things that could’ve happened to him. Logan stayed as stoic as ever, his face betraying none of the emotions he must’ve been feeling, and Janus was trying to calm Patton as best he could. Roman and Logan were actively searching, but it was Remus who found him. He had given a weird, choked-up, panicked sound, sort of like a scream, but not quite, and then went deathly quiet, and Roman immediately knew what had happened. He swam towards where Remus was, followed very closely by Logan, and was struck with a horrific sight that he could never forget. Virgil was floating near the bottom of the lake, only half visible in the relatively murky water, his eyes closed and his face pale. In any other circumstances, he could have looked like had was sleeping, he looked so peaceful and at rest. With no hesitation, Roman swam down, though the lake wasn’t too deep, and grabbed Virgil’s shoulders to pull him up. The body was heavy and limp in his hands, and it was incredibly difficult for Roman to pull him up, for his foot had gotten tangled in the weeds at the bottom. Logan swam down as well, and freed Virgil’s foot, and the two of them pulled Virgil’s limp body out of the water and onto the grass, followed by their frantic friends. Roman wanted to join the panic and just dissolve into the ground in a pile of emotions, but he had to stay strong. As soon as they put Virgil down, Logan started doing CPR, pressing up and down on Virgil’s chest. Roman leaned his ear over Virgil’s mouth and a wave of coolness washed over him.

“He’s not breathing,” he said, traces of panic in his voice. Logan stopped the compressions, and Roman took this as a sign to blow air into Virgil’s lifeless body. Once he had done that Logan continued with the compressions, and the two of them kept it up for about half an hour, but by then they realised it was too late. Virgil still lay there, lifeless, limp and damp, his eyes closed, looking as peaceful as if he was sleeping. Roman collapsed into sobs, leaning over Virgil’s neck as his body shook, Logan looked at stoic as ever, but by the way he was shaking it was obvious it was taking all he had to remain that way and he was still doing chest compressions, Patton had started crying ages ago, and he wasn’t stopping, Remus was laughing hysterically, but Roman knew that was his way of dealing with things he couldn’t comprehend, and Janus had just sat there, his eyes glassy, but no tears falling. There were sirens wailing in the distance, slowly getting closer. An ambulance pulled up in the car park nearby, and three paramedics ran out. One of them gently pulled Logan and Roman away from the body, and the other two assessed the body and then looked at each other. One of them brought a defibrillator out of the van, but after about 20 minutes of no response from the body, they stopped.
“How long has he been like this?” one of them asked the boys.

“We don’t know. We noticed he was missing about 40 minutes ago and we found him half an hour ago. We couldn’t save him.” Logan responded in a cold tone of voice, not looking at the paramedic.

“Well, you did the right thing doing CPR and calling us. We will get him to hospital, but I don’t think we can save him. I am sorry boys.”

Logan just nodded dully, Roman broke down with renewed sobs, Patton had tears streaming down his face, Janus looked away from everyone and Remus’ shrieks and cackles were filling the silence. The paramedics got a stretcher from the ambulance and lifted Virgil in, and told the boys that they couldn’t bring all of them to the hospital, even though they knew it was a horrible situation. Logan and Janus nodded resignedly, Roman, Patton and Remus didn’t even respond.

The ambulance drove away, and all of the boys just sat down. Logan went over to where their stuff was, pulled out his phone and called his mother, who came and picked everyone up. Logan’s mother was like her son, scholarly and studious. She loved her son, even if she had trouble showing it, but Logan knew that she did anyway. She was now as stoic as her son, her face betraying no emotion as she drove the three sobbing boys and two emotionless boys to the hospital. Once they arrived, she helped them find where they had taken Virgil. They all knew he was dead, they all knew it was too late, they all knew logically, in their minds, that he was gone, but still, in their hearts, through the pain and hurt, there was a small nugget of hope, so delicate and fragile that they barely dared to touch it for fear it would dissolve into nothing. When they reached Virgil’s room, they were met with a lifeless, pale, damp body. Virgil’s exposed torso was a very pale grey, and when Roman touched his hand it was as cold as ice. Even his hair, which he had dyed a brilliant purple a couple of weeks prior, seemed faded and dull, as though all of the life had been sucked out of it, which indeed it had. That small nugget of hope had been crushed into dust, and Roman bent over his friend’s body as sobs started to wrack his body. Remus was uncharacteristically silent, and he clung to Janus’ side. Janus had tears slowly trickling down his cheek. Logan was hugging Patton as though his life depended on it and Patton was sobbing loudly into Logan’s chest.

Logan’s mother had gone out of the room to call the other parents, who arrived shortly afterwards. Virgil’s parents were the first, having been called by the hospital. Virgil’s mother dissolved into shrieks and tears, and his father gave a choked sob before hugging his wife closely. Roman and Remus’ mums came shortly afterwards, their mom gently coaxing Roman off of Virgil’s body and their mama grabbing Remus’ hand in comfort. Remus slowly let go of Janus as his father arrived and enveloped his son in a hug. Patton’s dads came last, but neither of them could get Patton to let go of Logan, so they just put their arms around the two boys, with Logan holding his mother’s hand. The room was filled with the sounds of grief, the wails and screams punctuating the quiet sobbing as all of them suffered through the intense pain of death.

Chapter Text

Logan felt numb afterwards. He wanted nothing more than to be able to cry openly, to sob like Patton in his arms and get all of the pain out, but he couldn’t. He felt numb, empty, and hollow, like there was something missing. His eyes felt dry, and for the first time in his life he felt like the robot everyone called him.

Logan was a very stoic person, his emotions were always well controlled and he often hid what he was feeling so that he wouldn’t get ridiculed and so that rash, emotion driven actions wouldn’t ruin his friendships and his reputation. Despite the fact that he never showed any deep emotion, he felt very deeply, so deeply that it hurt sometimes, but he hid all vulnerability behind a mask of indifference. It had taken a while for him to become friends with Patton, Roman, Remus, Virgil and Janus. They had slowly wormed their ways into his life and his heart, through sarcastic comments and crazy experiments and dramatic debates and gentle words. Patton showed him that opening up and being vulnerable isn’t always a bad thing, Roman demonstrated (in a dramatic re-enactment, which was in truly Roman way) that the beauty of performance meant that it didn’t have to be the real you, Janus always offered an insightful take on mundane events, providing a very different point of view for which Logan was grateful for, Remus showed him the joy of chaos and unbounded personality, and Virgil provided a very real, down-to-earth take on the world, even if it was slightly depressing and anxiety inducing, which Logan valued as it gave a balance to the drama and the ideals of the others. Slowly but surely, Logan found himself smiling more often, even laughing when he felt like it, and he started to let himself feel more, knowing that if he fell there would be someone to catch him. Logan was still stoic and calculated when he needed to be, but when it was just him and his friends he felt completely at peace with himself and his emotions.

And now he was feeling nothing. He felt like an ocean that had been sucked of its water and all that was left were the dead plants, animals and miles and miles of sand. He wanted to feel something, anything, no matter how painful, but he felt so so empty. He surveyed the grieving people around him, all of his friends in states of distraught and pain, and their parents comforting the best they could. Logan looked down at Patton sobbing into his chest, and he tightened his grip around the smaller boy. He felt Patton’s dads’ arms around him, bringing a gentle comfort to both him and Patton, and he could feel his mother’s hand in his.

He tried desperately to make himself cry, by leaning into the people around him for comfort and letting himself relax, but no matter how hard he tried and concentrated he couldn’t feel anything. He felt so lost in the numbness, it was like an all-consuming force, enveloping him in a constricting prison and he felt like he would do anything to escape. He thought of all of the happy moments he had with Virgil, all of the times they spent talking about the truths of the universe, all of the times they had shared “the look”, as Patton had so creatively named it, whenever any of their friends was acting ridiculous (which was a very common occurrence) and all of the moments they had shared after Logan had helped him calm down from his panic attacks. He thought of the fact that he would never ever be able to see his friend again, that he was gone forever, that all of those memories are the only thing he had from him. He still felt just as empty and numb as before. He knew that this will take time, and it was probably just shock that made him feel this way. But he just wanted to feel something.

He felt his mother’s hand gently rub his to comfort him and it did help a little to distract from his inner turmoil. He looked at the body of his friend, and his heart gave a twinge. Well, that was something. Virgil looked pretty similar to when he was alive earlier today. His usual eye makeup, consisting of eyeliner and a small amount of eyeshadow, most often in tones of purple and black, had been almost completely washed away by the water, leaving a slightly off colour to the already ghostly pale skin. His foundation had also faded a bit, although not washed off completely, exposing the spattering of freckles that Virgil always hated. He always said it made him look cute, and he took away his thunder. Virgil seemed weirdly exposed, just lying on the hospital bed. Roman was bent over him, shaking as he sobbed, his mum’s hand on his back. Logan tightened his arms around Patton, who had started to calm down a bit and was now just snuffling quietly, and tried to forget the fact that his friend was dead.
--
Roman stared out the car window, watching the world go by. Even though the sky was filled with the bright oranges and gentle pinks that often accompanied the setting sun, to Roman the world felt colourless and empty. The sunset seemed to be mocking him, putting on a brilliant display of colours, seeming so happy and warm when Roman felt the complete opposite. He felt like a chunk of him was missing, like there was a gaping hole in his chest. He felt so lost and alone. He looked at all of the people as they drove, and he felt a wave of anger and contempt at the fact that they were just going along with their day, that they were alive and Virgil was not. Roman’s heart twisted with pain at the thought of Virgil. He wondered if it would always be like this, whether he would ever be able to think of Virgil without tears coming to his eyes. Roman wondered if he would ever be able to feel normal again, because the pain seemed almost unbearable. He wanted someone to take his hand, to pull him close and promise that it would all be okay. He wanted to feel like normal again, to be able to look at his phone and see a new message from Virgil pop up, or to be able to go to school and see Virgil standing with the group, laughing at some weird joke or making snarky comments. He just wanted Virgil back.
Roman was vaguely aware of the radio being turned on, breaking the otherwise silent car. He knew his mums had that worried and concerned look of their faces and he knew that his twin was just as hurt as he was, and that he wasn’t the only friend Virgil had. Even so, he still felt so alone. Virgil was one of his best friends, and they had grown so much closer in the past two years, and now he was gone. It felt like a huge weight had covered him like a blanket, and was pressing down on him. Roman felt so lost.

The car pulled up in the driveway, and the family silently made their way into the house.

“We are going to order pizza for dinner,” Mama said, putting down the boys stuff. Roman gave a small nod to show that he understood, even though he wasn’t even the slightest bit hungry. Remus didn’t say anything. He hadn’t said anything since they had found Virgil, which was odd given that Remus was always talking and making noises. Their mums exchanged a glance, but didn’t say anything. Roman walked up the stairs and into his room to get away from everyone.

Roman flopped onto his bed, absolutely exhausted from all of the crying. He stared around the room, everything reminding him of different moments with Virgil. The desk turned vanity where they had given each other countless makeovers, some hysterically bad and some fantastic. The Aladdin poster that Virgil had bought Roman for his birthday that had started the huge collection of Disney posters that covered his walls. Memories of the two of them lying or sitting on Roman’s bed, sometimes joking around, sometimes having serious conversations. Roman remembered everyone hanging out in his room, having pillow fights or dancing around to music or just sitting around talking. He looked out of his window and saw Patton’s house across the street, where Roman and Virgil had sat on the roof last new year’s and talked about life while watching the sunset and waiting for the others to return from the store so they could bomb them with waterballoons. A pang of pain hit his heart as he realised that he would never see Virgil again. It had occurred to him before, but now he actually understood. He would never see Virgil’s snarky yet gentle smile again, never notice the hints of gold in his green eyes when in certain lighting again, never be able to exchange playful insults with him again, never be able to dance to Roman’s Disney music or Virgil’s emo music together again, never be able to even just see his best friend ever again. Tears started to fill his eyes, and he just lay on his bed, tears rolling down his cheeks, staring at the ceiling, the sudden realisation that his friend was gone hitting him like a freight train.
--
Remus threw himself headfirst into the pile of pillows and blankets he called a bed. He had been in a perpetual state of confusion and lost-ness ever since the death. Flashes of the body kept appearing in his mind, haunting him. He could remember every last detail of the moment he found it. His mind had conjured several worst case scenarios for what had happened when they realised that Virgil was missing, but he never thought any of them would be true. Yet when his foot brushed against the smooth arm of a body, his whole world had stopped and the absolute horror he had felt at seeing the body of his friend floating in the water, feet tangled in the plants at the bottom, had followed him ever since. Remus had found himself in a state of hysteria, so lost and confused and horrified that he struggled to comprehend much of his surroundings. He found it increasingly difficult to speak, which was odd because he normally talked nonstop, thoughts appearing in his head and out through in his mouth with no filter. Sure, some of his thoughts were gruesome, and yeah, sometimes he lacked tact, but most people had gotten used to his weird comments and didn’t mind. His friends never cared. They found his lack of filter pretty welcome, as it balanced out the way Logan, Patton and Roman tended to repress their emotions and insecurities. Remus was an open book. If he was happy, he would show it, if he was sad, you would know. No matter how bad things got for him, he never bottled anything up, never left anything unsaid.

Which was why everyone found his silence so disturbing. No one could tell what he was thinking, no one could know what he was feeling. And Remus hated it. He wanted to let everything out, he wanted to yell and scream and cry and say everything he was feeling, get all of the emotions out. But he couldn’t. It felt like there was this invisible barrier stopping him. He could feel the emotions, and yet he couldn’t. He had these thoughts, but his mind was blank. He couldn’t express himself because there was nothing to express, and yet he could feel the emotions and turmoil eating at him from the inside. Remus wondered for a moment how Roman could live like this, keeping everything bottled up, hiding all of his insecurities and showing no one what he was really feeling.

Remus buried his head into one of the biggest pillows. He wanted to scream, to kick, to punch the pillow, to yell and cry, to get out all of his emotions and to stop feeling so blank and lost. But he couldn’t. His body seemed so tired and exhausted, his eyes were dry, too dry, and his mind felt blank and full of thoughts at the same time. Images of Virgil’s body kept appearing in his mind, and he wanted to shake his head to get the image out, but his head wouldn’t co-operate. Remus just lay there for what seemed like hours, head in his pillow, body completely still, feeling everything and nothing at the same, the inner conflict eating him up.
--
Roman picked at the pizza, nibbling at it occasionally. He was far from hungry, but he knew he needed to eat something, even though every time he tried to swallow a huge lump appeared in his throat. Remus was just picking at the pizza with his fingers, making little dents in the greasy cheese, seeming fully focussed on the task. His mama, Anna, had her arm around his mum, Sylvia, in a gesture of comfort. Looking at his mum’s eyes it was clear that she had been crying.

Roman felt a wave of contempt towards his mum. What right did she have to be upset over Virgil’s death? He was Roman’s friend! Sure, he knew that Virgil was a particular favourite of his mum’s (although she always tried to deny it, even though Roman once caught them jamming to some MCR while they were waiting for him and Remus to come home), but he was ROMAN’s friend! Roman glared at the wall behind his mums, trying to direct his anger somewhere before he took it out on someone. He focussed on the wall. How dare the wall be so blank? Virgil should be standing there, laughing, and potentially mocking Roman for being so ridiculously angry at a wall. There should be photos covering the wall, maybe paintings, or even have that wall a better colour than that weird off white. Roman almost laughed at how stupid his thoughts were, getting so angry at a wall for being blank, but he also felt this burning pain in the pit of his stomach, a reminder of everything that had gone wrong that day.

Roman went back to nibbling at his pizza. The silence that had come over them ever since the hospital was hovering over them, boring into Roman’s mind. It felt so strong it was almost suffocating. He looked towards his twin, hoping that Remus would talk, or make a noise, or just do something to break the silence like he would normally do, but Remus was staring intently at the uneaten slice of pizza on his plate. Roman sat there in the silence for about another ten minutes, before taken his plate into the kitchen and going back up the stairs and into his room.

He flopped back onto his bed, once again alone in the silence and looked at the sky through his window. By now the sun had set, and the full moon lit up the night, the stars around it dotting the sky like pinpricks of light. Roman loved the stars, loved the moon, loved the sky really, from the bright warm sun, fluffy clouds and stretches of pure blue, to the gentle navy darkness of the night, with the cool light of the moon and the gentle stars scattered across the night sky like freckles across a face. Like Virgil’s freckles, which Roman loved more than anything else. His freckles reminded him the stars in the sky, and sprinkles on a cake. Virgil always covered them up with layers of foundation, saying they made him look silly and cute. Or at least he used to, before he died.

Roman wished more than anything for him to be able to see his friend’s face one more time, to see those freckles and the deep brown eyes with flecks of gold, to see his bright purple hair, to see his stupid smirk. Roman could almost hear his voice, snarky yet gentle at the same time. Roman stared at the stars, trying to picture Virgil’s face in the sky. He noticed a shooting star cross the sky, leaving a trail of light behind it. A small amount of hope blossomed in his chest. Roman never believed in wishing upon stars, or upon coins in a well, or by wishing upon eyelashes, but he did it anyway.

“I wish that Virgil was here,” Roman murmured, focussing on the star.

There was a beat of silence, and the small amount of hope that had formed in his chest was crushed into dust. How could he be so stupid? No wishes ever came true, so how could he ever think this one would? Especially because Virgil was dead. Roman saw him dead. No wish could ever bring someone back from the dead. And even if it could, how would it work? Would he come back as a ghost, only visible to a couple of people, or would he come back as a grotesque zombie? Would someone take kindly to being brought back from the dead or-
Roman’s thoughts were cut off by a blinding light coming from the corner of his room. Roman sat up and shielded his eyes, as the light grew brighter and then faded. Roman uncovered his eyes, and had to rub his eyes and pinch himself a couple of times to be sure of what he was seeing, hardly believing his eyes.

“Virgil?”

Chapter Text

Virgil hadn’t meant to die.

He had only wanted to swim to take a bit of a break from the chaos, which was a bit difficult to do when you were friends with Remus. When he left them Patton, Remus and Roman were all chasing each other around in circles, splashing each other with water and Logan and Janus were sitting in the shallows discussing politics or philosophy or some nerdy shit like that. Virgil had been floating on his back for a few minutes, just looking up at the cloudless blue sky. He couldn’t recall what had prompted him to swim around underwater, but he did anyway, exploring the quiet world of the lake. All external sounds were dulled and the cool water was nice after being in the sun. He hadn’t realised how far away from the others he had swam until he came up for air and saw the others on the other side of the lake.

There was a reason not many people swam in this side of the lake. The water was quite a bit deeper, and there were several plants at the bottom that were perfectly capable of ensnaring feet. Virgil had intended to go back to the others as soon as he saw how far away from them he was, but a small part of him just wanted to stay where he was, for it was a lot quieter over on this side than where the others were. Virgil ducked back underwater and just stayed there for a bit, swimming around in circles, enjoying the serenity. He knew the moment he felt his foot get caught in the plants that he was screwed. No matter how much he pulled the plant would not let go, and in trying to kick his way out his other foot got caught, wrapped up in the ferns.
It only took a couple of seconds for his lungs to start hurting. At first it was a gentle ache, but it built quickly and soon it was almost too painful to bear. Virgil’s mind went into panic, thoughts racing through his head, mostly surrounding the fact that he was drowning and all of the things he hadn’t done and never said. He kept struggling, trying to pull his feet from the foliage, but he only succeeded in tangling them more. Virgil could feel his time ticking away, the pain in his lungs building and it was growing harder and harder to stay conscious. Virgil had once heard that drowning was a painless as falling asleep, but now he knew that was complete bullshit. Drowning was the most painful thing in the world. He could feel his body fighting to stay alive, for him to hold his breath, to stay conscious and he knew that with every second that passed that his body was failing. His last thought before he blacked out was that he never got to say goodbye…

When he awoke he found himself in a white hallway. He was wearing his signature black hoodie with purple patches, the one that Patton and Roman had made him for his birthday several years ago, his purple long sleeve shirt and ripped skinny jeans, although he had no idea how he could be wearing them given that he died in his shorts and nothing else. That was, given he was actually dead. Virgil stood up and took in his surroundings and himself. He was in a blinding white hallway, on one end there was a blank wall, and on the other end there was a blinding light. He somehow knew he should go through the light.

Suddenly, Virgil was terrified. He felt so alone, surrounding by nothing but white. He wanted someone to hold his hand, or hug him, or even just be there with him, to reassure him. He didn’t want to be dead. He wanted to be back with his friends, wanted to see Remus, Roman or Patton do or say something ridiculous or stupid and just share a look of ‘you have got to be kidding me’ with Logan or Janus. He wanted Patton to give him a hug and a cookie (he always seemed to have cookies on him, and Virgil had no idea why, but they helped a lot whenever he was stressed or anxious or just needed comforting) and tell him it will all be okay. He wanted Logan to break down the situation, to offer a reassuring smile or give him a fun fact to take his mind away from the situation. He wanted Roman to give him a dramatic smile, probably accompanied with a stupid nickname, and maybe take his hand or give him a hug or just make him smile. He wanted Janus to give him a snarky comment, or to tell him that it would be okay, that he was safe. He wanted Remus to tell him some morbid fact, or to reassure him in the way only Remus could, by exclaiming some chaotic shit loudly and running around and yelling and just being Remus. He wanted his parents to be by his side, telling him it will be alright, and that he wasn’t alone. He didn’t want to be dead.

It hit him that he would never see his friends again. Never see the way Logan will roll his eyes fondly whenever Patton made a pun, never see the way Roman’s auburn hair glowed red in the sunlight, never see Janus smirk the smirk that he had spent hours in front of the mirror perfecting, never see Remus’ chaotic grin or the glint he got in his eye whenever he thought of something that delighted him. Tears filled his eyes, for even though he was the dead one, he wanted nothing more than to be alive again. He collapsed onto the ground and sobbed.

He didn’t know how long he cried for, but he cried until he had no more tears left. He then lay in the silence, tired and pained from the situation he was in. He felt scared and small and his heart ached with longing to return to the land of the living. He never meant to die, he never wanted to die, he never even got to say goodbye. He lay there alone with his thoughts.
After what felt like hours (and it probably was hours, but Virgil had no way of telling the time) he felt a pull. He couldn’t tell exactly what was pulling him, but it felt like he was being pulled towards the floor. The light grew brighter, and Virgil had to shield his eyes for a moment. Then the light faded, and Virgil found himself in a very familiar place. He could hardly believe his eyes, and a wave of joy and relief washed over him as he took in his surroundings. Roman’s bedroom had never looked so beautiful.

“Virgil?” Roman asked. Virgil turned around and looked at his friend. He could see his friend!! Joy overwhelmed him, and he could feel tears prick his eyes. Happy tears. Roman looked like he normally did, if more dishevelled than normal, and he had a look of disbelief and joy on his face.

“Roman?” Virgil responded, hardly believing that he was in the room of his friend.

“Virgil!” Roman shouted in joy, launching himself towards Virgil with the intent of hugging him, but he ended up going straight through Virgil and crashing into the wall behind him. Virgil half wanted to laugh and half wanted to sob. He put his arms out in front of him in disbelief, examining himself. He looked pretty solid, not translucent like ghosts were supposed to be. Was he a ghost? Or something else? He was distracted by Roman’s arm appearing through his torso.

“You’re a ghost!” Roman exclaimed. “What? How? Why? What??”

Virgil finally broke and collapsed into hysterical laughter. He was so relieved and happy to see his friend again, to be back in the land of the living, to just be here again, back in familiarity. Roman looked him in slight confusion as Virgil rolled around on the floor, tears of laughter streaming down his face. “What’s so funny?” Roman asked, giving an uncertain laugh himself.
“I don’t know! I’m just so happy, so ridiculously happy, to see you again.” Virgil slowly calmed down, and then just lay there on the floor, looking up at Roman. Roman had the biggest smile on his face, and he looked close to tears as he looked at Virgil.

“I’m really happy to see you too Virge.” Roman stepped over Virgil and made his way to his bed. Virgil sat up and stared around the room in wonder.

“How am I here? What?? How?” Virgil looked at Roman for answers but Roman shrugged. The thought that maybe he had forced Virgil to come here, and maybe now Virgil would be stuck here forever and it was all his fault, crossed his mind, making him feel guilty and anxious. But looking at Virgil made it all worth it.

Virgil looked like he always did, if slightly paler. His hair was still purple, his eyes were decorated with purple and black eyeshadow and eyeliner and foundation hid his freckles. He was wearing a very Virgil outfit, with the signature hoodie, purple shirt and black jeans. He looked every bit as alive as he did when he was living, even though he seemed a bit paler. Roman just stared at Virgil for what seemed like forever, just taking in the fact that his friend who had died earlier today was sitting on his bedroom floor, talking to him! Roman was reeling slightly from the absurdity of it all, and the joy that he felt at seeing Virgil again.

Roman yawned suddenly, and the overwhelming feeling of tiredness and exhaustion he felt before washed over him. “Go to sleep, Princey. You must be exhausted,” Virgil said with an indignant look. Roman nodded, and was about to start getting ready, when the thought suddenly occurred to him that this might be it and he might never see Virgil again if he went to sleep.
“Will you still be here in the morning?” Roman asked, trying to sound like he wasn’t terrified of the thought of never seeing Virgil again after just seeing him again after he had died and Roman had thought he had lost him forever and failing miserably.

“I don’t know, but I have no wishes to leave,” Virgil said, looking slightly anxious at the thought of leaving the land of the living. They would have to drag him kicking and screaming if they ever wanted him to go back so soon. Whoever or whatever they were.

Roman gave a small nod, not completely comforted by this statement, but knowing that it was an honest one. Virgil tended to be pretty honest when he could, stating what was true to him, which was sometimes distorted by his anxiety or was a more pessimistic view on things. As Roman got ready for bed, Virgil made himself comfortable on the beanbag. He had no idea whether ghosts could sleep or needed sleep or whatever, but regardless he wanted to be comfortable, and here he could see the sky. He remembered that Roman had once compared his freckles to constellations and that compliment had meant more to Virgil than he would ever care to admit. He had always been a bit self-conscious of his freckles. They really suited some people, like Patton, whose face was covered in light freckles, but Virgil never thought they looked good on him, or fit his personality or aesthetic.

Virgil lay back on the beanbag and stared up at the sky as Roman turned off the light and fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Whatever Patton had expected that night, a phone call from a very drunk Janus wasn’t it. That being said, Janus hadn’t intended to get drunk either.

The whole day had left Janus feeling numb and lost. He felt the pain of his friend’s death sharp like an arrow, but at the same time he felt a bit empty. He hadn’t cried much since the accident, even though he wanted to. Janus felt this aching hole in his chest, the feeling of something missing. He kept thinking he would pick up his phone and there would be a new message from Virgil, or that he would look across the street and see the light on in Virgil’s room. He had even called Virgil, knowing that it would go to voicemail, just so he could hear his friend’s voice again.

In fact, that was what had caused him to get drunk in the first place. Nothing could emotionally prepare him for the sound of Virgil’s voice coming through the phone. The message that Virgil had rehearsed for an hour before finally recording his voice into his phone. The quick “Hey this is Virgil. Leave a message after the beep”. Just a couple of seconds, then the beep sounded and Janus was alone again. He put the phone down, and walked into the kitchen. His father was out picking up takeaway, and there was a bottle of wine left on the bench. Janus felt an overwhelming feeling of temptation, to be able to provide relief however temporary, to the sense of emptiness and pain he was feeling. He got a glass out of the cupboard and filled it up the way his father had done countless times. This wasn’t Janus’ first time having wine, for his father had always allowed him a little sip when he was having some, but this was the first time having a glass all to himself. He took a big gulp of it, and felt a slight warmth in his stomach.

Janus took another sip, and then another, and soon the glass was empty. His head felt a little foggier, and the internal pain he was feeling had diminished a bit. He liked the feeling, the way he felt slightly numb, but this was a numbness he brought on himself. He poured himself another glass, slightly more than the last one, and drained it. Now the world seemed to be spinning slightly and his brain felt very foggy. Even though the emptiness and pain he was feeling before had subsided into a gentle ache, Janus decided that he hated the feeling of being drunk.
Patton had only been home for a couple of hours when his phone rang. He of course picked it up, despite being exhausted from the events of today, because his friend needed him. Janus had answered, and after a couple of quick questions Patton realised that he was drunk as a skunk. Out of all of his friends, Janus was the second last person who he expected to get wasted (Logan was the last person, for the only beverage Patton had seen Logan drink other than water was juice).

Janus’ speech was slightly slurred, and halfway through the call he started crying heavily. Patton tried to comfort him the best he could, though he was exhausted and it was really difficult to comfort a drunk person over the phone. Eventually, Janus hung up, whether on accident or on purpose, and Patton was left alone in his room again. He stared out of the window, his chest aching from the loss of his friend.

“Hey Virgil,” Patton murmured. He knew Virgil wasn’t there, he knew Virgil would never come back, but he couldn’t help it. He just wanted to talk to his friend. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he brushed it away. “I hope you’re okay. I miss you… a lot, but I know that it will be okay, and you are in a better place now… hopefully. I just wanted to say, I love you, you were one of my best friends and I didn’t ever want to lose you…” Patton stopped talking as tears overcame him. He buried his face in his pillow as sobs wracked his body and he cried himself to sleep.

--

Roman awoke the next morning, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. He had no idea why, until he saw Virgil sitting on the beanbag in the corner of his room. He was wearing headphones, and apparently listening to music, given that he was bopping his head, and for a moment Roman forgot that he was the ghost of his friend who had drowned just yesterday.
Roman watched his friend for a little longer than was probably normal, watching the way the morning sun seemed to make his purple hair even more vibrant. Virgil stared out the window, casually moving his head along to a beat, and it took him a while to notice that Roman had woken up. When he did, he smiled and took his headphones off of his head.

“Good, you’re finally awake. Do you know how long nights last when you aren’t tired? I don’t think ghosts need to sleep. But I did manage to conjure these headphones and play music, which is pretty cool. I have no idea how it works, but I did it.”

Roman gave a shrug, lying back down on his bed. “Ghost logic is something we need to figure out. We could write everything down in a notebook. Maybe Logan could help us. OH!” Roman shouted, sitting up suddenly. Virgil winced at the loud noise and gave Roman a confused look.

“What? Did you get bitten or something? Foot cramp?”

Roman brushed off the questions and continued. “No, I realised we can show you to the others! Virgil you can talk to the others!!”

“Oh,” Virgil said, a look of realisation dawning on his face, which quickly morphed into an uncertain one. “Roman… what if they can’t see me?”

“What? Of course they will be able to see you. I can see you, so they should be able to! Just think of it Virgil, it will be like you never left.” Roman seemed to be vibrating with joy at the prospect. Virgil gave a small smile, conflicted between not wanting to get his hopes up and being overjoyed at the prospects of seeing his friends again, of talking to them again. Roman bounced out of bed and out the door, gesturing for Virgil to join him. Virgil followed, and found them outside of Remus’ door.

The pit of nervousness in Virgil’s stomach swelled, but a rush of overwhelming joy cancelled it out. Roman knocked on the door loudly before barging in. Remus was sprawled out on his bed, picking at his nails, looking unusually quiet and dull.

“Ree, you will never believe it!” Roman shouted, practically jumping up and down with excitement. Remus glared at Roman, and Roman paused for a minute.

“Get out,” Remus said slowly and calmly. Roman looked as shocked and uncertain as Virgil felt. It was very uncharacteristic for Remus to act like this. Normally if he was angry or hurt there would be a lot of loud yelling, punches potentially being thrown (though Remus was always careful to not hit people just things) and you would know exactly why he was angry. It was a hot type of anger and negativity. This was different. His voice was cold, quiet and calm, but he was very clearly angry. Roman swallowed and tried again.

“Remus you won’t believe this.” Roman sounded a little apprehensive. Remus glared at him again, then stood up very suddenly. Roman took a step back.

“Get out!” Remus shouted. Roman’s face fell, but this was territory he was used to. Now that Remus was yelling it would be easier to handle the anger. And part of him knew that it wasn’t fully directed at Roman. “Why are you so happy? WHY?? Our best friend died yesterday and you’re smiling? Did his life mean anything to you?! How could you be so horrid?”

Roman’s face looked both shocked and hurt. Remus had tears streaking down his face, and after he had finished yelling he crumpled to the floor. Virgil went forward.
“Remus, look, it’s me! Virgil. Remus, I’m here!” Remus didn’t respond and Virgil knew that what he had feared was true.

“He can’t see me,” Virgil whispered, deflated. He turned around and ran down the hall back into Roman’s bedroom. Roman followed shortly afterwards, his shoulders hunched slightly in defeat.
“I’m sorry Virgil. I really thought that would work,” Roman said, his voice sounding low. He flopped onto the bed and looked at Virgil.

Virgil avoided Roman’s gaze and just stared at the floor. “No, it’s okay. I should have known this was too good to be true.”

Silence filled the room, weighing heavily on both of them. After a considerable amount of time, Virgil broke the quiet. “How come you are the only one who can see me?”

Roman made an effort to look everywhere but Virgil. Roman knew exactly why he was the only one who could see him. He made the wish, even though he had no idea it would come true, and he had forced Virgil to come back from wherever you go when you die to the living world. If he told Virgil, Virgil might hate him for forcing to be stuck here as a ghost. Was Virgil even stuck here? Could he leave and go back to being permanently dead with no way for Roman to communicate with him ever again? Would he leave if he knew the truth? Roman wanted to tell Virgil the truth, but he didn’t want to risk losing him again. Not after just getting him back.

“I don’t know,” Roman mumbled. He felt incredibly guilty for lying, but he couldn’t risk it. He will tell Virgil the truth eventually, but not now. He had just got his friend back, and he couldn’t lose him again.

Virgil seemed oblivious to Roman’s inner turmoil as he stared around the room, seeming lost in thought. Eventually, Virgil sighed and turned to face Roman, a sad smile on his face.
“Guess I’m stuck with you Princey.”

Roman struck a dramatic pose and mock fainted. “Oh the horror!” he cried in an over the top voice. Virgil laughed.

“Yeah, who would want to be stuck with you? I don’t know how I can cope,” Virgil said in a playful tone. Roman gave him a “really?” face.

“Shut up. It is a privilege to be stuck with me. You should feel honoured!” Roman said, flailing his arms around dramatically.

“Oh I feel so honoured,” Virgil said sarcastically. “It’s just too bad no one shrank your head before I was summoned from the afterlife.”

Roman gave an overly dramatic gasp, then stuck out his tongue. Virgil laughed. “Oh real mature.”

“Hey!” Roman exclaimed, picking up a pillow and throwing it at Virgil. It went straight through him, hitting the wall behind him with a loud thump. The two paused for a moment, waiting for someone to come into the room to see what all the commotion was about, but no one came. Roman assumed his parents were out of the house.

Once it was clear no one was going to come up, Virgil let out a triumphant laugh. “Ghost remember?”

Roman flipped him off, and there was a beat of silence before the two of them collapsed into laughter. For the first time since Virgil’s death, everything felt normal. There was no way Roman was ever letting this go.

Chapter Text

Roman sat on his bed, a notebook in his lap, fiddling with the pen in his hand. Virgil was over across the street, checking up of Patton. He had picked up this little habit of going over to everyone’s houses, just to look at his friends and see them again. He had told Roman it helped him to see them again, but every time he came back he looked a little bit sadder. Roman couldn’t do anything to stop him though, and so he was currently taking this time alone as an opportunity to come up with some ghost nicknames.

Roman had a notebook full of nicknames he had for Virgil, and a couple extra for each of his other friends. He had spent countless nights thinking about them and jotting them down, and now he had quite an impressive list. However, having his best friend be a ghost meant that new nicknames were needed. He looked up a list of famous ghosts, and was surprised to find the list was quite short.

Roman looked back at the nicknames he already had on his list. He had some pretty good ones, if he did say so himself. Patrick Lazy, Virgil the Unfriendly Ghost, Ghost of Christmas Sass (Virgil better appreciate that one, he was very proud of that one). But three nicknames weren’t enough. What other fictional ghosts were there? Bloody Mary! That was a ghost right? So… Bloody Virgil? Bloody Emo? He wrote both down, deciding to choose whenever he used them. Harry Potter had tons of ghosts! Nearly Headless Nick, Bloody Baron, Grey Lady, Moaning Myrtle. Alright nicknames… Moaning Emo? Oh god no that sounded far too sexual! Roman sighed, but wrote it down anyway, making a little note to comment about basilisks and bathrooms if he ever used that one. He looked at the list of ghosts he had looked up. Many names he didn’t recognise, and many were just listed as ghost, but a couple he knew of. The Hogwarts ghosts, the ghosts from a Christmas Carol, Danny Phantom… Emo Phantom? He couldn’t just keep replacing one word with the word emo, there was more to Virgil than that. Come on, Roman, think, what are some words to describe Virgil? Sassy, snarky, clever, anxious, emo, cute (objectively of course), hot (again objectively), he had a nice smile, his eyes were pretty cool, freckles…. Shit stop getting distracted, focus on his personality…. He’s nice and funny and oddly charming, but can’t make those into nicknames. Think Roman think!

“Whatcha doing?”

Roman jumped, startled out of his train of thought. He tried, and failed, to hide the contents of the notebook, but Virgil noticed the title before he could do so.

“Ghost nicknames? Wait, Princey, you write these down?” Virgil said, a look of pure amusement on his face. Roman face flushed a deep red, and he gave an offended Princey noise.

“Pfft No!” Roman scoffed. “What would make you think that?”

“Gee I wonder… maybe the title on the page?”

“Oh shut up!”

“So tell me Princey, what ghostie nicknames do you have for little old me?” Virgil lay down on the bed and looked up at Roman with a huge grin on his face.

“As if I would tell you that easily.” Roman stood up and put away his notebook, then flopped down on the bed next to Virgil. “So where did you go this time?”

Virgil sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I went to see Patton, as always, and he seemed to be going through a depressive episode, but I didn’t stay for long because Logan came over and I felt like I was intruding too much, so I went to see Janus and he seemed okay… I think… it was hard to tell. I stayed for about half an hour there, because he wasn’t really doing anything and I hadn’t seen visited him since… well… you know. And then…. I went to see my parents….” Virgil’s voice wavered a bit and trailed off.

“I’m sorry Virgil,” Roman said gently. He reached to take Virgil’s hand, but it only hit the bed. Virgil blinked rapidly and looked up, trying his best not to cry, but a couple of tears slipped out and rolled down his cheeks.

“I sometimes forget that I am dead… that I am gone from these people’s lives. I have gotten used to the whole not being seen thing… I think, but I forget that I am dead. Some part of me just thinks I am invisible and that I am just looking out for my friends, but I am… dead. I can never see them again.” Virgil took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. Tears were streaming down his face now. Roman gave him a sympathetic look. “And my parents… they are so sad. My mother, she was crying, and she never cries, and my dad, he look just empty. He is normally so full of life… I never wanted to die, Roman… I didn’t mean to die…” Virgil was fully crying at this point. He sat up and put his head on his knees, hugging his legs. Roman put his arms around Virgil, and rested his head in Virgil’s soft hair… no, that wasn’t right! He couldn’t be… but he was! He was touching Virgil, holding him as tight as he could, with no air between them.

Roman held Virgil for as long as possible, not wanting to let go, in case this was a fluke. Virgil slowly calmed down, his heavy crying turning into gentle sobs, which eventually became shaky breathing. As Virgil calmed down he became less solid, and Roman felt the weight of his friend lift from his arms, and soon his hands were just passing through empty air, although Virgil looked as solid as ever. Virgil lifted his head from his knees, looking at Roman with dawning realization on his face. Roman just looked shocked, and slightly sad.

“Were you hugging me?” Virgil asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if hardly believing it to be true. Roman nodded silently. The two sat in shock for a moment, taking in the reality of a situation that defied the laws of every possible science.

“How?” Virgil asked after a while.

“I don’t know. I just really wanted to hug you, so badly, and so I went for it, kind of without thinking, and it… worked,” Roman said. Virgil looked down at his feet, a look of deep concentration on his face. “Are you good there, Patrick Lazy?”

Virgil smiled up at Roman in a way Roman had never seen Virgil smile before. It was soft and gentle, carrying more emotion than Roman could comprehend and yet somehow he understood everything the smile was trying to convey. The look stayed for a moment or two, before changing into a grin of amusement.

“Was that one of the nicknames on the list?” Virgil asked, laughing. Roman gave an offended scoff at the jab.

“Pfft what? Of course not!”

“But there is a list? You didn’t deny it!” Virgil said in a singsongy voice.

“Oh shut up!” Roman scrambled over the bed to try and get closer of Virgil, who ran over to the other side of the room, laughing.

“What are you going to do? Punch me? I’m a ghost, genius! You can’t touch me!”

Roman gave an annoyed huff, but there was a smile on his face, and soon he too was laughing, the sound filling the room. Virgil paused at the sound of Roman’s giggles, staring at his friend, who was sprawled out on the bed, bent double with laughter, his auburn hair a mess from chasing Virgil and a look of pure joy on his face. Something stirred deep within him, but he didn’t know what, nor did he care at that moment. For now everything was good.

Chapter Text

A gentle knock on the door roused Patton from his light sleep. The sun shone bright through the gap in the curtains, and the clock on his bedside table read 11:00 am. A familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“Hey Patton! Can I come in?”

Patton gave a half-hearted reply, knowing that the caller would come in anyway, just like he always did. Sure enough, the door opened and Virgil walked in. He gave a smile upon seeing Patton, although Patton knew he must look a mess. He had barely gotten out of bed in days, and when he did it was only to sit someplace else. Virgil came over and sat on the bed, looking down at his friend with a gentle smile.

“C’mon, Pat, let’s get out of bed. Your dad made some avocado and bacon toast for you to have, so the only thing you need to do is get out bed. You got this!” Virgil mimed cheerleading, moving his hands with imaginary pompoms on them and whisper-cheering encouraging chants, something he would never do for anyone but Patton. “Let’s go, Patton, let’s go!”

Patton gave a small smile and sat up. Virgil passed him his dressing gown off the floor, and Patton stood up and put it on. It was surprising how much it helped having Virgil there. Normally that task alone took at least an hour. Virgil and Patton made their way down the hall, where the delicious smell of cooked bacon filled their noses. They sat down, and Patton’s dad placed a plate in front of them both.

“You got out of bed in only 10 minutes kiddo! I’m proud of you,” his dad said, a huge smile on his face. He mouthed a thank you to Virgil over Patton’s head. Virgil smiled back, and watched as his friend made his way through breakfast, while eating a slice of toast of his own.

This wasn’t exactly ordinary behaviour for Patton, but it wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary either. Patton had suffered from depression for most of his teenage years, and although there were periods of time where he seemed normal, he was prone to depressive episodes, like the one he was going through now. During those times, generally Logan or Virgil would come over to help, with varying successes. Some days, all it took was a little bit more extra help for Patton to get up and start the day, and other days the most either of them could do was to spend time with Patton next to the bed.

Patton hated his depression. He hated how disgusting he felt when he couldn’t find the energy to shower or get dressed or even brush his teeth. He hated the feeling of emptiness, of numbness, of this dull kind of apathy, that dimmed all the brightness and colour in life. He hated the complete lack of energy, of motivation that accompanied the greyness, and how it always felt like some invisible weight was pressing down on him like a blanket. He also hated the fact that it had taken years to find a type of antidepressant that worked, of having to spend years with no relief, and even with the antidepressants sometimes he still felt the emptiness and numbness of depression, and on those days it made it so much harder.

But with Virgil and Logan by his side, it made things a little easier. Not exactly sunshine and rainbows, but the sharp dullness of depression was eased a little, tasks became just that little bit easier and the days seemed just a little bit brighter. It was never easy, but having his friends beside gave him a small little beacon of hope to hold onto. Maybe it won’t always be this way. Maybe the future will be just a little bit better. Maybe, with his friends and family beside him, he could cope.

Virgil was there for the entirety of that particular day. He and Patton lounged around for most of it, talking about deep things like how shitty depression and anxiety were to deal with, and also trivial fun things like the potential existence of Mothman. They spent some of the day outside, lying on the grass in Patton’s backyard or sitting under the large oak tree, looking at shapes in the clouds or blowing dandelion fluff at each other. Patton always loved spending days with Virgil, just hanging out with him. He was one of Patton’s closest friends, from the moment they met they had clicked, and he remained one of the only friends who Patton had the energy for on days like these. Logan was the other, for the studious nerd had a quiet and calm demeanour that Patton found very soothing and pleasant. As much as he loved Roman, Remus and Janus, they tended to require quite a lot of energy to keep up with them mentally, and the loud nature of the twins made them really difficult to be around on days like this, when calm and quiet were mostly preferred.

“Does the concept of death ever scare you?” Virgil asked as they lay on the grass under the oak tree. He picked the yellow dandelion flower growing next to him and rolled the stem in-between his fingers. Patton sighed as he sat up and started to pick at the grass in front of him.

“Not really? I guess I have kind of accepted that we all die eventually, and it’s difficult, but also a natural part of life. I like to think that none who die ever truly leave us, because they are still in the hearts of the people who loved them, and that comforts me, you know?”

“I’m scared of death,” Virgil said, picking the petals one by one off the dandelion. “I am scared of the finality of it. I don’t really have a clear idea of any kind of afterlife, and so for me, you sort of just die and that’s it. It’s pretty scary to just stop…”

Patton shrugged. “That’s valid,” he said, a typical Patton response to conversations like these. The topic moved on to dogs, as it was prone to in Patton’s presence. The two of them talked about the types of dogs they would love to get when they were older, then what each of their friend’s would be if they were dogs, then they circled back to mental health, another common topic of conversation between the two of them.

“You know, sometimes I feel like giving up. Not killing myself, but just like giving up. Not fighting it, not struggling to get up every day, just lying there and just let it run its course. But I know can’t because the moment I stop fighting, stop doing everything I can to just get out of bed each morning, I don’t think I would be able to get back up again…. But I am so tired of fighting…” Patton kind of trailed off, directing his attention to the grass in front of him. Virgil put a hand on Patton’s arm.

“I know. I feel like sometimes fighting my anxiety is an impossible feat and I just don’t have the energy. But I also know I am not alone, and neither are you. You have me, and L, and Roman, Remus and Janus, and your dads, and your therapist, who will all try and help you however we can. I’m not going anywhere, Patton, ever, and I will continue to be here for you through everything, I promise.”

Patton gave a sad smile, and hugged Virgil. “You got this Pat, just one foot in front of the other,” Virgil said, returning the hug.

“Thanks kiddo,” Patton murmured. He let go of Virgil, and soon the conversation moved on to the latest music artist Virgil was interested in. Patton couldn’t help but wonder how lucky he was to get a friend like Virgil, or any of his friends for that matter. It was comforting to know that Virgil was there for him, and that he would never leave him. No matter what, they were in this together!

--

Patton awoke to a gentle knock on his door and the voice of his papa telling him to wake up. The sun was streaming through the gap in his curtains, and he felt disgusting and empty. He sat up in his bed and was hit with the daily reminder of the absence of his friend in the form of a black suit hanging in his closet. Patton looked away, not wanting to think about the funeral he was attending later that day.

The weeks leading up to the funeral had been a blur of intense sadness, longing and emptiness. He felt like he had no energy, and he kept fluctuating between grief so deep it felt like his heart was about to burst and an emptiness so vast he felt like he was just a void of nothingness. He would go from staring out the window, not feeling or thinking anything, to crying so much he felt sick in a matter of seconds. Virgil had always been there for him, he had promised he would always be there for him, and even though Patton knew Virgil’s death was an accident, a small part of him felt betrayed and more alone than ever. Logan had come over as much as he could, and although Patton loved his friends company, there was no replacing Virgil, nor would there ever be.

Patton got up out of bed after an hour. The funeral was in about an hour, and even though he felt depression and grief pulling him down like suffocating ropes, he wanted to give as much respect to his friend as best he could. Patton didn’t have the energy to stand in the shower, so he ran himself a bath. He washed as much as he could, trying to make the icky gross feeling that had been caused by weeks of not washing go away. He lay in the bath longer than necessary, letting himself soak in the water, not wanting to get out. He did eventually though, drying himself and draining the tub.

He put a dressing gown on after he was dry, not wanting to get fully dressed, because to get fully dressed was to put on the black suit, and that would mean acknowledging once again that Virgil was dead. Patton went into the kitchen with the intention of eating, but just ended up walking out again, for none of the food seemed appealing and he wasn’t hungry. He went back into the bathroom, brushed his teeth and hair, trying to do everything he could before he faced the inevitable. Eventually, after brushing his hair for the tenth time, he went back into his room, gently took the suit out of his closet and laid it on his bed.

It was weird for Patton to own such a black outfit. Normally he wore bright colours and fun patterns, things that brought a smile to his face. For him, wearing black always made him feel a bit sadder and less like himself.

He reached to start putting the suit on, but he hesitated. To put it on would mean to finally admit Virgil was gone… and that he wasn’t going back. Patton knew logically that Virgil was gone, but part of him thought he could hear Virgil talking to his papa in the kitchen before he came into Patton’s room. Part of him thought he would turn around and see Virgil there, listening to music or laughing or just sitting there. He kept thinking he would look at his phone and see a new meme he had sent or a message from him in his notifications, but every single time the screen was blank and Patton’s heart broke a little more.

Patton took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. A small part of him wished Logan was there, because Logan had been his rock throughout all of this. Almost every day Logan would come over, for as long or as short a time as Patton wished, and every single time he managed to make Patton feel better. It was a different to Virgil’s support, because Virgil’s support was rooted in similar experiences, giving each other advice that they had gotten in therapy and relating to each other’s feelings, because both of them had struggled with mental illness. Logan hadn’t had that same experience. His mental state wasn’t exactly healthy, but it wasn’t the same as a lifetime of dealing with a mental issue like depression or anxiety. Logan’s support felt sturdy and solid, like a rock, acting like a branch to hold onto when you are falling off a cliff. Virgil would just fall with him, giving him comfort as they fell, but not being able to stop the falling. Logan gave him something to hold onto to try and pull himself up. Sometimes he fell anyway, but sometimes Logan’s branch gave him enough strength and hope to start to climb back up.

Logan was his rock, a firm solid structure that Patton could anchor himself on. Nothing could replace Virgil, but then again nothing was ever meant to. But it didn’t help the fact that Virgil was gone… fully gone.

Patton put on the suit slowly, then looked at himself in the mirror. It felt wrong, so wrong, to wear this suit, to wear those colours, to go to celebrate and mourn the life of one of his closest friends. Patton could feel tears threatening to spill over, but he tried his hardest to keep calm. For Virgil.

“One foot in front of the other,” Patton murmured, pressing a hand over his heart. “I miss you kiddo.”