Chapter Text
He had never, ever , ever seen this coming. Tell him thirty minutes ago that two people in black who claimed they “worked for the Royals” and “came to deliver punishment” while he wasn't in his super cool, evil villain outfit, he would have asked him what drugs you were on and where you got them.
But here he was. Lying broken in an alleyway with the people in black spitting at him and prancing away. Damien didn’t even know how they knew it was him without his getup. Who knew how many people they hurt because they were trying to “get their revenge” on him?
Two of the people had lead pipes and one of them had a crowbar. They had bashed him multiple times all around his body, focusing more on breaking his ribs and arms. After they were finished with the beating, they tied the broken arm to his torso and forced some kind of weird liquid down his throat. It had burned like hell and it made his legs spasm and twitch all around.
But now, thankfully, they were gone. After a few minutes of bleeding out, Damien carefully pushed his hand to the most damaged part of his ribs and managed to use the wall to sit and stand up.
As he picked himself up, he constantly tried reminding himself that right now, without his outfit and his attitude, he was just a normal person. Just a normal person.
Damien didn’t know where to go. He couldn’t go back to his apartment like this, he didn’t know first aid; and who knows, maybe that gang had found his apartment as well. Any family he had lived miles away and wanted nothing to do with him. And friends? Hah! Who said he had any friends? He would call the ER or 911, but his phone was split and shattered and yeeted thrown somewhere far, far away.
Maybe…
No, he would stop that thought right there. There was no way that he could show up at Virgil’s house like...like this. But... it seemed to be the best option, not to mention his only option.
He found his feet moving for him before his mind knew what he was doing. Wait...wait! He didn’t think this through! They surely would think this was a trick! They wouldn't let him in! Attire or not, he always would be the villain in their eyes.
But, before he knew it, he was at the Royal’s door. Or, whatever their last names were. Should he even call them the Royals? Did they have names outside of being...well...heroes? Like he did? What should he call them? What should he say? What would be his excuse? Was he really so naïve to think that Virgil would let him in?
It was worth a try.
He knocked.
And waited.
There was a muffled “I’ll get it!” and Virgil was soon at the door.
“He- DECEIT?!”
Damien bit his lip and gripped the door frame so hard his knuckles turned white. “...Virge...Anx...I-” his legs gave out and he slid to the floor.
The Creativity and Morality rushed over as soon as Anxiety cried out DECEIT and their eyes widened when they saw the state he was in.
Morality’s parental reflexes kicked into drive. Villain or not, the hero must save the victim. He pushed Anxiety aside and hoisted Damien up effortlessly and brought him to the couch.
“Virgil, go get Logan from his room. Roman, get me a washcloth and a bucket of warm water.” Both tried to complain about Morality bringing their villain into their household, but he just gave them a glare which sent them on their way.
“I…” Damien coughed and shivered a bit and turned his head to look at Morality. His glassy, scared eyes met Morality’s. “I'm s-sorry...j-just…” He broke into a painful coughing fit.
“Don’t worry kiddo, you’re gonna be okay.” Morality shushed and gently slid his hand through Damien’s wet hair. “Deceit...what happen-“
“Damien…” he interrupted, and quickly took it back. “Uh...sorry...y-you can-”
“You want us to call you Damien?” Morality cocked his head to the side slightly.
Damien nodded slowly, preparing for him to laugh or call him stupid. He tried to squash down the surprise and delight that warmed his heart when Morality just smiled.
“You can call me Patton. Roman is Creativity’s name, Logic is Logan, and I think you know Virgil.” Damien nodded, trying to keep his ears from fading out or making everything sound muffled. He tried to take deep breaths, but breathing just agitated his lungs more. Mor- Patton kept running his warm hands through Damien’s hair, and the latter tried to hard to refrain from melting into the touch.
A minute later Logan came running down the stairs, a first aid kit in hand and Virgil following him. He crouched next to the couch and immediately started rummaging through the bag of medical things while Roman rushed back in with warm washcloths and paper towels. Patton was informing the others of Damien’s name request while all of a sudden white fog started surrounding his vision. Someone was calling his name, someone was shaking him-wait...they stopped. His head hurt...his arm hurt, his chest hurt, god everything hurt. He could let go...right? He could let go and they wouldn't hurt them, right?
“Damien!”
He let out a sigh, closed his eyes and let the dark envelope him.
“Dec-Damien! Please! Stay awake!” Patton pleaded and tried not to cry. Logan cut Damien out of his bloodstained shirt and Roman sucked air through his teeth when he saw the broken rib bones jutting out of his skin. Virgil’s eyes widened as soon as he saw the blood and bruises. He closed his eyes and tried so hard not to vomit.
Logan was speechless. He quickly shook himself out of his daze and began to work. He disinfected the gashes and cleaned off the dried blood. “Patton, be ready to call 911. What I'm doing now only should be temporary. Roman, can you get me another bucket of warm water? Virgil, get more towels.”
~
“I’d like to make an announcement!” Damien cheerfully stood up at the dinner table, his happy family’s chatter quieting down. “I am very honored to have a family like all of you. Each and everyone of you sitting at this table is the best family I could ever ask for.
“I’d trust you with anything.” His eyes landed on his older sister. “So, I've decided that today I would be the day that I told you…” Deep breathes, Damien, you’ve got this. “I'm...gay.”
Silence.
Damien sat down, face red as everyone’s eyes bore into his head. He saw someone across from him making a cross on their forehead.
“You're...gay…” His older brother hesitated. “Like...this...isn’t a joke?”
“No. It’s...not.” Deceit bit his tongue. Was this bad mistake?
“Like... gay gay. Not the happy kind of gay.”
“Yes, dad. Yes. I like boys.” Deceit was getting frustrated.
“You’re going to hell.” His grandfather spat, glaring and slamming his hands on the table.
“W-well, besides that part, your speech was very lovely, darling!”
The whole evening went on as if nothing happened. As if Damien didn’t even exist.
Damien didn’t get invited to anymore family events.