Chapter Text
Virgil had been living with the Core Sides for a few hours.
Patton was making great efforts so he didn’t feeling guilty about sitting around doing nothing (“Healing is tiring and important, petit orage!” “And you didn’t seem to have any problem with that when you were a cat.” “Not helping, Logan!”) or worry about getting kicked out (“You'll see, as soon as Logan gives you the go to eat normal foods, I'll make you house-shaped cookies. Everybody knows cookies don't lie!”).
Later that day, Logan joined him in the infirmary to listen to a documentary about conspiracy theories. In the tired and achy state he was in, limply watching a show just interesting enough to keep him from spiraling was exactly what Virgil needed. He fell asleep with his fever-burned face on Logan’s shoulder.
As for Roman, he kept changing the windows of the infirmary so they overlooked different locations, each more enchanting and mysterious than the last. The giant mushroom forest was one of Virgil's favourites, he could watch the translucent springtails jumping and burrowing all day. At some point, he thought he heard Roman call him cute, but ultimately chalked it up to being half-comatose.
Virgil tried to focus on the good feelings and to ignore the thoughts of the Others and the pain his flu was causing him. After a while, despite his best efforts to pretend he was FineTM, Logan gave him some medicine, which had the welcome side effect of giving him an hour of good, nightmare-less sleep.
In the evening, the three Sides came to have supper with Virgil in the infirmary, and he could not even protest and assure them it wasn’t necessary, because they arrived with a tablecloth, a picnic basket and more enthusiasm between them that Janus had expressed altogether in his life.
That night, when nightmares tore him from his sleep, he was comfortable despite his illness, with a moonlit arctic tundra outside his window and away from his large, empty room. And although he would never dare to wake someone up to bother them with his problems, just looking at the intercom made him feel better.
Virgil had been living with the Core Sides for a day.
The half-peaceful rest, the miniature steam-bath and the anti-cold herbal tea were beginning to take effect. Unaccustomed to so much human (ish) contact, Virgil got a bit choked up when the other Sides (especially Patton, as Logan had warned) stuck a little too close to him. But they respected his boundaries. That evening, his stomach could take a slightly larger amount of food in one meal. He was catching up on sleep and had to dodge questions about fetching "his things" from the Others' house.
Virgil had been living with the Core Sides for three days.
He realized that human contact and company didn’t bother him as much while in cat form and began to transform after he had exceeded his daily dose of interaction. He already knew that Logan's knees were the best place to doze off, since he stood up the least (Roman, muck like his brother, seemed to be sitting on a string, constantly). The silent company was doing him good.
His muscle aches were almost gone, and, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, he was able to follow Patton as he showed him around the house, filling the visit with anecdotes and memories. Logan accompanied them, supposedly to offer practical commentary on how they functioned as roommates, though he spent more time trying to discredit Patton’s anecdotes about him. Virgil carefully jotted down all the practical information, always keen to behave and reduce his chances of getting kicked out. But he also listened to the stories and laughter. And he was only mildly embarrassed when Patton needed to carry him back to the infirmary, he was actually getting used to it, which felt strange on its own.
Roman came back from the Imagination just before dinner and went alone to visit Virgil in the infirmary. "Don't worry," was the first thing he told him. “I know you worry all the time, ill storm.”
“What’s happening?” Virgil asked, playing with the edge of his blanket.
“It didn't work, did it? Do not fret, for one day I will find a way to break news to you without summoning your anxiety, Anxiety. About my visit, well… I went to meet my brother in the Imagination.”
Virgil blinked several times. That… didn't sound so bad, actually. Of all the Others, Remus had (unexpectedly) caused him the least amount of trouble.
“I asked him to let me go get your belongings. Apparently it's not necessary?”
Virgil flushed and shrugged. “Maybe I need summoning lessons?” he asked weakly.
“And as a Creativity, I am undoubtedly in the best position to teach you!” Roman rejoiced, before his enthusiasm subsided a little. “He said a word about what happened to you. And about Janus.”
“How is he?” Virgil didn't know if it was healthy to worry about the yellow Side like that, but he couldn't help it.
… And maybe he had some experience in being aggressive to someone you just want to protect.
Huh.
“He's calmed down a lot. Remus asked me to summon Doctor Picani for him.”
“Seriously?”
“I know.” Roman shook his head. “When Remus of all people wants you to go to therapy, it has to be bad. They’re going to try and disentangle the everyone-for-themselves from the my-friends-are-mine-and-nobody-else’s. When you feel ready, Janus would like to talk to you. I guess he wants to apologize.”
Virgil shuddered a little at the thought, though it could’ve been his flu. Not knowing what to think about that, he changed the subject. “What about Remus?”
“What about him?” Roman gave him his most innocent look, but Virgil wasn't ready to throw the towel.
“Come on, you and your brother talked like civilized people, this is an event. And he was so quiet and uneasy the last time I saw him. It was weird, and not the usual weird.”
“Firstly, I’m always civilized. A paragon of politeness. And, yeah, well... let's just say it felt good to see him drawing the line somewhere. He knew letting you go was the right thing to do. And I think it did him some good that I asked for his advice and his help. But enough character development for now.”
“Enough what?”
“What?”
Virgil shook his head, like he had cobwebs in his mind. “He didn’t even try to pour something disgusting on your head?”
“Oh, absolutely,” he laughed. “I took a shower before I came to see you.”
“Your shower is probably made of gold or something,” Virgil semi-joked.
“Actually, it's a natural waterfall. Part of my floor is glass, so you can see the water flowing, and there’s a pond and...”
“What surprises me in all of this is that Anger hasn't tried anything yet.”
Roman twitched. He could be a pretty good liar, when he wanted to. But unlike Janus, he wasn’t immune to guilt, which skewed his game.
“What?” Virgil said.
“I don't want you to worry!”
“It’s what I do!! It’s already too late.”
Roman bit his lip. “Anger tried to get in here last night. The house's defenses and the alarm system prevented him from doing so.”
Virgil fell back against his pillows, a little stunned.
"And even if it didn’t, he’ll never think of looking in the cupboard for you,” Roman comforted him. “It'll be better when your room is here. You can adjust the door to let some people in and not others.”
“Can we do that?”
Virgil had rarely seen Roman smile like that.
“I'll show you how.”
Virgil had been living with the Core Sides for five days when his room appeared there.
He walked into the large, bare room, surprised enough by its mere presence to not worry about the other Side’s reaction.
"It's… minimalist," Patton commented.
"Judging by the areas where the paint is faded, it seems the original furniture was removed," Logan said. “Was that intentional, or do you miss the ability to make it reappear?”
“Logan!”
“Nah, he's right,” Virgil admitted timidly.
“I have a plan!” exclaimed Roman. “I'll bring up some grand, flashy decorations. You’ll hate them, which will motivate you to learn how to summon.”
“Oh, I don't think you can do worse than your brother.” It took only a few seconds of silence for Virgil to notice the concern the other three were showing. "Nothing too serious," he assured them. “Well, waking up inside a huge mouth wasn't great, but nothing really traumatic. Janus made it a rule that you could only ‘kill’ one person per month, and most of the time it wasn’t me.”
New silence.
“It's a green light,” Virgil sighed. “Go ahead, Roman.”
Despite his words, he tensed up a bit. The experience was sure to be at least a little humbling. Despite how his health had gotten better, the fatigue still weighed him down, and he had to sit on his bed, since his legs could no longer carry him.
Immediately, he bounced in the air and fell back against the mattress. Raising himself on his elbows, he realized the cause: his bed had just doubled in size. Despite himself, he smiled as he watched the rest of the room change. “You remember my favorite movie?”
“Virgil, it’s Disney we're talking about.”
“Have fun, and no fuss, boys!” Patton said, quickly pulling away from the spider-patterned curtains. Logan's protests were lost in the hallway, as he was dragged along.
“Was Logan right?” Roman asked, continuing his work. “Did you used to have furniture and stuff, and then they disappeared?”
"Yeah," Virgil sighed, letting himself fall back against the bed (which was so soft Virgil could feel it give way a little under his weight). “My bedroom exacerbates my powers. So as soon as I perceive something as a threat, it goes away.”
“What are your favorite bands?”
“Evanescence and the emo trinity. Fall Out Boy, My chem and Panic!.”
“Of course,” said Roman, materializing metal posters. “You know, if you design your bedroom furniture yourself, you might be less afraid of them. Summoning requires increased knowledge of the object.”
“And now you sound like Logan.”
“I wish!”
Virgil smiled and closed his eyes, enjoying the moment. Logan's voice was reaching him from the floor below, but not because he was screaming. His words were lost in the distance, but he definitely had his professorial tone on. The smell of the seafood soup Patton was cooking for them (Virgil kept telling him that even as a cat, he had no particular preference for fish, but to no avail) rose to his room, and would Virgil ever get used to having a consistent (and delicious) source of food? Roman was humming a Moana song as he bustled. Virgil looked around him.
It was his room. It had always been his room. But for the first time, it also looked like home. And not because of the new furniture, which he hadn't chosen (although Roman was doing relatively well).
Because his family lived here.
Virgil had been living with the Core Sides for a week when Thomas invoked their presence. He still didn't know anything about Janus and the Others, but it was okay. Because Virgil would be there to make sure he didn't panic too much when he finally acknowledged their existence.
When he appeared, Virgil stood still in his shadowed corner. Maybe that's why no one noticed his presence until he spoke.
“I'm with Logan on that one.”
Virgil would never get tired of observing all the little differences between his host and the other Sides. They all had a distinct way of jumping. “You shouldn't be here!” exclaimed Roman.
Thomas frowned, mother hen mode on. “Come on, Ro. I thought we had this sorted out, even if Virgil's advice may...”
"There is no need to worry," Logan reassured him. “Roman was referring to another ordeal entirely.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling good enough to be up, kiddo?” Patton asked worriedly.
“I feel much better, thank you,” replied Virgil.
“Oh, were you sick?” Thomas asked. “Hey, wait, do you all live together? Like, in the same house?”
Ignoring their host, Patton turned to wave at Roman. The latter raised his hands and summoned a blanket. “It changes color,” he announced proudly to Virgil while throwing it at him.
And if Anxiety smiled at the gesture, no one could ever prove it, because the blanket fell over his head. He took some time to compose himself before letting his head emerge, wrapping the rest around his shoulders. The fabric of his new hoodie already kept him warm, but he didn't think that argument would be met with much success. Not as much as the hoodie itself, anyway. Eventually, he would have to tell Roman that making him a whole wardrobe served no purpose, since he certainly wouldn’t be giving up that particular item of clothing anytime soon. His first semi-successful summon. He had been momentarily discouraged when he noticed the large holes (“I guess… Hypothermia is scary?”), but Patton's suggestion to sew patches on them had been inspired, and as Roman said, it "infused it with personality."
“Does the doctor approve?” he asked Logan when he was bundled up tightly.
Logic dramatically adjusted his glasses, bringing a fond smile to Virgil's lips. “That should be satisfactory. With the blanket.”
Virgil looked in turn at the other people present, had a thought for the absents. He gazed at the window, and behind, at the patch of grass on which he had spent so much time. It felt so long ago.
“So, what are we arguing about today?”
Virgil had only been living with the Core Sides for a week. But it was already the best of his life.
Fin