Chapter Text
Exhausted.
That’s how he felt. As if someone had drained him of everything that kept him going, pouring it out of him like water from a jug.
Sometimes he just felt annoyed after incidents like this. Sometimes the frustration at his inability to be normal- no, not normal, there is no such thing- would overwhelm him, bringing fresh tears and his hands would yet again try to defend him against something they couldn’t fight.
Other times he just felt tired. This was one of those times. He started to register where he was, the fog starting to lift.
Tile. Hard. Cold.
A toilet. God, keep away, who knows how many germs are there-
The bathroom. He was in the bathroom. Of course he was. He remembered running in here, the world sharpening and blurring all at the same time, desperately trying to get away from-
How long had he been here? Time always seemed to fade during these kinds of things.
Cold tears lay still on his cheeks, he could feel their tracks down his face. They’d tell him to clear those off. That it would make him feel better.
They’d have told him to breathe. They don’t understand how that makes it worse, reminds you that your struggling-
His breathing was better now. Almost normal.
A soft knock on the door.
‘Virgil?’
He moves his mouth to answer- his throat disobeys.
Mute. Fuck.
‘I’m going to come in, okay?’
Do what you you like- I can’t answer.
The door opened and Patton’s worried face appeared.
‘Virgil?’
Hello Patton.
‘Are you alright?’
What does it look like.
Scratch that. I’m ok. But not.
This is a nightmare-
‘Can I get you anything?’
I can’t think, can’t talk, can’t think, can’t talk-
‘Im going to get you some water, okay? Then we’ll see if you feel like moving to somewhere more comfortable.’
Fine.
Patton disappeared. It could have been for a minute, ten, or twenty. But he came back with a glass of water, and something else which he kept out of sight.
‘Drink it, you’ll feel better.’
Virgil finally found the strength to move his hands from his ears- forgot those were there- and pick up the glass. Slowly, he drank it all, realising just how thirsty he was. It soothes his sore throat- ah.
This had been a bad one, then.
Patton shifted, catching Virgil’s attention. Sheepishly, he produced a brown bottle from behind his back.
No-
‘Virgil, have some, it will make you feel better-‘
He shook his head fiercely.
Can’t have it can’t have it can’t have it-
‘Virgil-‘
No it’s bad for you bad for your health I can’t have it-
‘- I know you like it-‘
I shouldn’t it’s bad-
‘You’re thinking about how bad it is for you, aren’t you?’
The shaking stopped.
Slowly, he nodded.
‘About how it doesn’t fit into Logan’s plan?’
Another nod.
‘What did we say about these occasions?’
No reply.
‘We said ‘f-word it’, remember?’
A small nod.
Patton smiles and placed the bottle in front of Virgil, who didn’t take it, instead averting his eyes.
‘Now you’re thinking about the fact that you’re breaking a rule, aren’t you?’
Damn, he’s good.
Yet another nod.
‘I give you permission to have it. It is a rule that you need it in times like this, isn’t it? Well I confirm that this is one of those times. Agreed?’
A pause. And then- a nod.
‘Good. Now, drink your ginger beer. You need the sugar.’
***
Later, Virgil would join the others in the common room for a quiet evening, rewatching a film they’d seen a million times before. Roman would softly sing along with Cinderella, and Virgil would twist his hands at the climax, averting his eyes. Logan would try not to question the irrational behaviour the mice displayed, and Patton would bop along, trying not to be over excited.
The exhaustion from the incident would lead to Virgil falling asleep, and when he woke up with the memory of the cause, the others would simply lead him through his 4-7-8 breathing, and then they’d ensure he got to bed.
And as for what caused Virgil to be locked in a timeless void on the cold tiles- they’d address that in the morning.
For now, sleep.
And to get some more ginger beer...