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Thomas and his sides were walking home from a day of adventures. It was late now, and the sun had long since set. The empty streets were lit by streetlamps, and it was quiet and peaceful. Some would say it was too quiet. Suddenly, there was a rustling sound. Thomas and his four sides halted to a stop, glancing around.
“Did you guys hear that?” Virgil asked.
“It was most likely the wind, blowing the leaves around. Nothing to fear, Virgil,” Logan replied.
“Yeah, don’t be so paranoid, Virge,” Roman chimed in.
“Roman! That wasn’t nice, apologize!” Patton chided.
“I, uh- sorry” Roman said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.
“It’s alright,” Virgil replied, shrugging.
“Well, good to see you guys are finally getting along. And thanks, for being so vigilant, Virgil,” Thomas beamed.
“I’m- uh- I’m just doing-” Virgil started, but out of the corner of his eye, saw something glinting in the shadows. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. His eyes widened, and he instinctively leapt in front of Thomas. The gunshot rang out. Virgil staggered backward, his hands flying to his chest. He collapsed onto Thomas, who had barely registered what had just happened.
“Virgil?! Oh my god, Virge!” Thomas shouted, barely catching Virgil, then lowering him to the ground. Virgil coughed violently, blood speckling on his lips. Logan and Patton ran to Virgil’s and Thomas’s side, while Roman drew his sword, searching for the armed assailant. Logan dialed 911, and Patton started sobbing, cradling Virgil’s head in his lap.
“Don’t cry, Pat, it’ll be okay,” Virgil managed to croak out. He coughed again, more blood staining his lips crimson.
“I- I don’t understand,” Thomas stuttered, voice breaking.
“I was here to protect you, Thomas. I’m just sorry I couldn’t do it longer,” Virgil rasped.
“No, Virge, please don’t talk like that! You’re going to be fine, Logan’s calling for help, you’ll be okay!” Thomas rambled, tears spilling from his eyes.
“I’m sorry, it’s too late. Goodbye, Thomas,” Virgil said, grasping Thomas’s hand and squeezing it tight. Then, with one last shuddering breath, his eyes rolled back into his head, and his hand went limp.
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Thomas sat bolt upright, in a cold sweat and breathing heavily. His heart was hammering against his chest, and his knuckles were white from gripping the bedsheets. There also were tears streaming down his cheeks, and he unclenched the sheets to wipe them away. What a horrible dream! And it felt so real! Unless… unless it wasn’t a dream. What if it was real? What if Virgil really was dead?
“Virgil?!” Thomas cried out. In a blink of an eye, a groggy Virgil appeared on the edge of Thomas’s bed.
“C’mon, dude, do you know how late it is?” Virgil whined, yawning.
“Virge!” Thomas cried out, throwing himself towards Virgil and hugging him tightly.
“Thomas, what the fuck?!” Virgil shouted, now fully awake and very annoyed.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that- I had this awful nightmare, and you died- and… and I panicked and had to make sure that it really was just a dream,” Thomas stammered, crying again.
“So… let me get this straight. You were anxious about me, your anxiety, being dead, even though I clearly am alive and well, since you were panicking. Do I have that right?” Virgil deadpanned.
“I… that does sound dumb when you put it like that. Sorry, Virge,” Thomas apologized sheepishly.
“It’s okay,” Virgil replied, awkwardly hugging Thomas back. Thomas hummed contentedly, and hugged Virgil a little tighter. He then pulled away, wiping the tears from his eyes.
“Alright. I’m going to go back to sleep now. Sweet dreams, Thomas,” Virgil said, a rare smile upon his lips. He sank out, giving his usual two-fingered salute.
“Night, Virge,” Thomas said quietly, even though the anxious trait had already left. Thomas snuggled up beneath the covers once more, and went back to sleep nightmare-free.