Work Text:
“What are these ones from?” Patton’s voice is soft as his fingertips gently trace over four thin scars across Virgil’s right wrist.
He looked at the pale skin he had just touched and chewed his lip as he thought about what to say.
He could lie and say they were from a cat he had had as a child; or a car accident like the one down the back of his neck. He could brush it off and just say nothing important. Or he could be honest; it wasn’t like Patton didn’t already know that he struggled with depression.
Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes. “A few years ago...I hit a really low point in my life. I felt hopeless and desperate to not hurt anymore. Those are from when I tried to kill myself.” His words were little more than a whisper but in their quiet apartment, Patton could still hear him.
Patton traced them again, seeing how each one was more jagged than the one before it, getting a little longer too. He felt the bumps in the otherwise smooth skin, still soft but changing the landscape of the other man’s arm enough to be felt. His hazel eyes glanced up to Virgil’s face for a moment before he looked at the scars again. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to his wrist, feeling the pulse beneath the skin.
Virgil’s eyes opened and he looked at his boyfriend when he felt his lips against his arm. He swallowed a little. “Pat?”
“Hmm?” He had reached into the backpack that sat next to the couch and pulled out a sharpie
“What are you doing?”
“You’ll see.” He flashed one of those brilliant smiles that made Virgil go weak in the knees and uncapped the purple sharpie, starting to mark his wrist carefully. He was bent over it so that Virgil couldn’t see what he was doing. He reached up to pick up his lip and Patton, still focused on whatever he was doing on Virgil’s arm, reached out and gently took his other hand and put his hand on his knee, gently trapping it under his elbow as he worked. “No need to worry, darling.” He murmured.
Virgil gave a sad smile at that; Patton knew him too well. He knew that Patton seeing his scars for the first time months ago had sent him into a panic attack. He knew that Virgil was still dealing with his depression and anxiety but was working hard to keep living his best life, despite the illnesses that were a part of him. He knew that Virgil worried over every little thing and sometimes just needed gentle reassurance.
And best of all he knew how to give him that reassurance. He had learned Virgil’s triggers and his practices to calm down or stay calm so that he could always help him.
He closed his eyes, feeling the felt tip of the marker gently pulling at his skin. He felt Patton shift next to him and bend to grab a second marker from the bag and add that to what he had been working on. After about 20 minutes he heard the marker caps click into place and felt Patton sit up. He opened his eyes and looked down at his wrist.
Where the scars were, Patton had drawn a lightning bolt using the scars as connecting lines, going into a purple and grey stormcloud. In the cloud, he had written ‘Just Keep Breathing’ in a light blue.
Virgil had to blink back tears as he stared at the image on his wrist. He gently traced it with the hand he had just gotten back from Patton.
“I know it isn’t the best artwork...and it doesn’t hide the scars completely...But it’s so you know that you just have to keep breathing through the storms and soon they will be over.” He leaned in and kissed him. “And that I will always be here to keep you safe and dry.” He touched the edge of the lightning bolt. “Also, doing this doesn’t mean I think there is any shame in the scars...But I know they upset you. So for a few days, you can see this instead.”
Virgil smiled at him and leaned in to kiss him gently, pulling him close. “I love it, Patton. And I love you.” He held onto Patton as the smaller man settled in against him, grinning.
“I love you too, Virge.”