Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Virgil appears on the stairs, and the shock of it sends him stumbling into the railing. He huffs and pushes himself back upright, hunching into his bare shoulders with a shiver, and that's when he notices how bright it is. He squints up at the light- an actual working light, hallelujah- and his numbed mind starts working again, hypervigilance kicking into overdrive. This isn't the Dark Side. This isn't- he's not supposed to be here, even, if he were going anywhere he'd go back to his room-

"Wow, um, I didn't expect that to actually work," someone says, and the tone is so familiar that Virgil jolts to attention, staring like a moron at its owner. The man is blinking at him, dressed in tie-dye and soft jeans, and just looking at him makes Virgil's heart ache. He's never seen Thomas in person before, only knew what he looked like in the abstract way he knows his own appearance without a mirror, and now he's right there. He's right there, and there's three other Sides behind him. Virgil has a hard enough time trying to keep his attention on one person right now, though, so he doesn't do much more than skim his eyes over the others, cataloguing their features so he can figure out which is which when his brain starts working again. 

The one closest to him is wearing a dress shirt and a tie, and he mostly seems... irritated? Resigned? Virgil can't tell. Then there's another one with glasses and a cardigan tied around his shoulders, who just looks attentive and maybe a little concerned, and a third with the most ridiculous outfit Virgil's ever seen (and he's seen Deceit's outfit, okay, there's never an excuse to wear a cape when you're out of kindergarten) and an expression that falls somewhere between distaste and curiosity. Yep, that seems about right. Light Sides? Virgil thinks they probably are. He turns his attention back to Thomas, who seems to be waiting on him to speak, and tries, "You need to make better scripts. The last video d-didn't do so- so well." He stutters to a halt, mind in pieces, and manages to add, "I'm Anxiety. Hi," before the chill in his bones prickles up and muffles his thoughts. 

"Didn't do so well?" the one in the weird outfit blurts in outrage. "I'll have you know that the script was the most elegant, detailed one Thomas has ever written-"

"Y-yeah, that's why," Virgil says. He wants his hoodie, and he can't feel his hands, but showing that would be showing weakness so he sits on them and tries to focus. "Not enough room for improvisation, it- came off weird. Stale. No one liked it," and there's the tightness in his chest again, just on time.

"Well, that just isn't true," Necktie cuts in. "While the metric data shows that it didn't receive as many likes as some of Thomas' other videos, the ratio of likes to dislikes remained within the norm. It simply didn't have enough people click it in the first place: a fault I attribute to the boring title."

"I don't know about that," Thomas says, and Virgil tries not to melt at his voice. He's right there. "I thought the title was pretty good."

"It was good!" Cardigan bursts out. "Thomas and Roman worked really hard on it, and take it from your dad-"

"You're not my dad-"

"-that's what really matters."

"Why am I here?" Virgil asks, or thinks he does. He must say something, because Necktie motions at him sharply and says, "Is this not why we summoned another Side? Thomas wanted new input. Here it is."

"Actually, I was mostly just curious what would happen if I tried," Thomas corrects, looking at Virgil curiously. "You said you're my Anxiety, right?" Virgil nods. "Do you have a name?"

"Yeah. I'm not telling you, though." Virgil's pretty proud of that sentence. It's complete and grammatically correct- more than he usually expects from himself in this kind of situation. 

"Oh." Disappointment, Thomas. Better get used to it. "That's... your choice, of course. It's nice to meet you either way." Virgil gives him a half-hearted thumbs-up, telling himself he'll be menacing later, and drifts off as the conversation tilts back toward the last video and the changes they should make to the next one. 

This new reality is nice; Virgil finds himself slumping, letting the wall hold his weight and tucking his hands into his pockets so they'll warm faster. The freezer was so cold, and he can remember panicking and screaming to be let out, but Malice and the others never listened. They hadn't tied him up, only forced him in and blocked the door so he couldn't force it open, and the lights had shut off as soon as the door had closed. 

Cold and darkness are both, arguably, Virgil's aesthetic, but in practice they're nightmarish. He wasn't able to stretch his legs, elbows pressed up against the sides and knees only able to bend so far before the walls stopped them, and the grooves where the shelves were supposed to be bit into his back and sides. After a while he stopped crying and focused on shrinking into himself to hoard the warmth his body produced, but... he'd been in the freezer for such a long time. There wasn't much warmth left.

His tears went cold, and his breath stopped puffing. His shivers got weaker and weaker. Sleep suddenly seemed like such a good idea. If he was asleep, he didn't have to feel cold, and maybe when he woke up he'd be somewhere else. Maybe he'd just die and wake up in his bed and be warm.

Now he is somewhere else, but he's like seventy percent sure it's a dream. Things like this never happen to him; probably he is just dying, and his mind has thrown up a lovely hallucination to make things easier for him. Thank you, mind. That's sweet of you. Cool change from making me feel like the world is constantly ending.

It's so warm here, nice and soft with gentle light from the ceiling and the open blinds on the windows, and the others are ignoring him completely. The feeling of relaxation is intoxicating. Virgil can sleep, and they can do whatever they want to him, he doesn't care, as long as it's warm... 

Someone says his name, or at least it sounds like they do. Virgil forces his eyes open, clawing his way out of grayed-out exhaustion, and blinks at the face he sees. "Thomas?"

Thomas' mouth moves, but Virgil can't tell what he's saying. The words come to him anyway, though, reverberating like he's hearing them through deep waters. "His lips are blue," they say, and another figure comes up behind him, light blue and shining with a Light Side's power. 

There's conversation, distant and echoey. Virgil doesn't even try to follow it.

He can follow what the light blue one's saying, though. His eyes are shiny and concerned, and his face looks like it's used to smiling. Virgil's not sure how that works. Doesn't it get tiring? "Hey, kiddo? I know we just met today and you might be a little... standoffish... but I need to touch you, okay? Nod if that's okay." Virgil manages a nod, not sure what he's agreeing to or why, and a burning-hot hand presses against his forehead. He inhales sharply and jerks back, and the powerful one says, sounding distressed, "He's freezing! Roman, Logan, that's not normal, is it?"

"He should run at the same body temperature as the rest of us," Roman-or-Logan says, and then there are hands on Virgil's arms, someone pulling him to his feet. He stumbles, tries to catch his weight, and the prince-looking Side comes up and shoulders some of the burden, following Roman-or-Logan's directions to drop him on the couch. Things sort of gray out from there.

There are snapshots, though:

Warmth on either side of him, cloth and contact that seeps through his skin and makes him shiver harder. 

A rich voice saying, "-normal for them? The mind palace isn't freezing!" and a murmured response.

And a soft hand running through his hair, slow and gentle enough that Virgil leans into it, as a movie he vaguely recognizes as Moana plays in the background, songs so soft they're barely a whisper at the edge of his mind.

He sleeps.

Chapter Text

Virgil wakes to someone humming and a warm arm around his shoulders. He doesn't open his eyes but stays in place, trying to keep his breathing slow and even until he can figure out where he is. He's definitely not still in the freezer, but that raises further questions. Did one of the other Dark Sides decide he'd be fun to mess with while he was half-delirious from cold? Pretty much any of them would have hurt him, though, and he can't feel any new injuries- just the same few he got when they put him in the freezer in the first place. And Deceit wouldn't have stayed to cuddle him, and definitely wouldn't be so warm...

The air smells like chocolate chip cookies. That has to be an illusion, but then something in the other room beeps and one of the weights on the couch (he thinks it's a couch) rises with a surprised squeak. "Oh, I completely forgot about those! Guess I'm not such a smart cookie after all, huh?"

Someone else groans and moves, Virgil thinks maybe to facepalm, and he's just starting to realize that none of these voices sound familiar when the arm around his shoulder shifts and Thomas says, "How long do you think it'll take for him to wake up?"

Virgil shrieks and bolts over the back of the couch, kicking someone- not Thomas- in the side of the head and backing up when one of the others rises, sword in hand. He feels like Creativity, a brighter version of the Duke's power, and Virgil hisses when he advances, desperately trying to figure out how he got here and how is he going to get back, what did they want with him why is he here-

"Whoa, hey, Anxiety," Thomas is saying, hands up like he's trying to appease, "are you okay? Don't you recognize us?" Behind him on the couch someone is clutching his head and muttering ow, ow, ow over and over again, and Virgil feels a pang of guilt. He doesn't know why he's here, but he didn't have to kick someone in the skull, that was just rude. 

"You're Thomas," he says, because he's kept Thomas waiting long enough, but- "I don't- how did I get here? Why am I here?" Thomas startles at the sudden echo, but Virgil's too freaked out to care. His heart feels like it's bruising his ribs. "Am I- look, I know I didn't come here on my own-"

"Thomas summoned you!" one of the Sides pipes up, looking nervously from Virgil to the others. Creativity still has his sword out, glowering, and the one on the couch- is that Logic? That would make this last one Morality- is rising up and adjusting his glasses. "But, um, you were all tuckered out and freezing for some reason, so we let you stay on the couch to help warm up. We watched Moana."

"Moana?" Virgil echoes, incredulous. "You're telling me you just put me on the couch. Me. A stranger who's also literally your Anxiety. And, what, cuddled me?" He can feel his edgy persona shredding away as soon as he says the word. 

Morality giggles. "Well, you were acting like a real cuddlebug."

"What Patton means to say is that you were passing out and seemed to be missing necessary body heat," Logic clarifies. Beside him, Creativity lowers his sword, biting his lip and glancing at Thomas. "We surmised that the best course of action would be to sit close together for warmth. We would have done more, but apparently 'undressing strangers'-" He actually makes air quotes- "is strange and unsettling to all those involved, even though it would have produced more efficient results to ensconce you in lukewarm water."

Virgil eyes him uncertainly. "Yeah, uh. Not complaining about the keeping my clothes part." 

"Are you- all right, though?" Creativity asks. "You were pretty darn cold there. You know, you... felt like a corpse, in addition to dressing like one."

"Roman!"

Virgil looks down at himself; he's still missing his hoodie, but every other piece of clothing is black just the way he likes it. "You should see me on a good day," he says, snickering, because yeah, okay, that's fair. "At least I'm not dressing like I'm hoping to find an unconscious princess to molest."

Roman swells with outrage. "I do not- which fairy tale are you even referencing? There's no molestation in Disney!"

"Who says I'm referencing Disney? And there's tons, I mean- Sleeping Beauty, sure, but there's also Snow White-"

"She was dead, not asleep!"

"So you're actually into necrophilia? That puts your previous comment in a whole new light, wow. I'm actually feeling kinda threatened," and Roman's going red, puffing up like an offended bird.

"That is not what I meant and you know it! You know it! I can't believe I let my guard down around you, you're clearly a bad influence-"

"So who wants cookies?" Patton breaks in, and Virgil's stomach takes the chance to remind him that he hasn't eaten in three days. He still hesitates, though, inching back as the others break off spectating and getting offended to swarm the plate. He just picked a fight with one of them, and anyway he's basically an uninvited guest, only here because he was so pitiful they felt bad leaving him alone. Patton pins him with huge, watery blue eyes. "Anxiety, don't you want any? Do- do you not like chocolate, 'cause I can make something else if you want..."

"Chocolate's fine," he says hurriedly, grabbing the smallest cookie from the edge of the plate and backing away before Morality can start crying or something. "Thanks." His cookie is kind of malformed, lumpy on one side like it got squished wrong as dough, and Virgil thinks you and me both, buddy, before shoving it in his mouth in case someone tries to take it away. The chocolate bursts on his tongue like nirvana; he has to blink hard to keep from tearing up. 

It's just a stupid cookie, a little throwaway from a plate full of them. It shouldn't affect him like this. But he's so hungry, and the little hint of food makes every part of him sit up at once and beg. It's a weird thing about hunger, when it gets bad enough: it seems to spread from his stomach to every cell, so he can point to any patch of skin and say it wants food. Virgil's starving with his whole body. He forces himself to turn away from the cookies. They've already given him one. They don't know him well enough to give him any more. He already owes them way too much as it is-

"Anxiety?" Thomas asks, tapping his shoulder tentatively, and Virgil jumps, spinning around. "Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to frighten you, just- did you want any more? You can have more than one if you want."

"No, thanks," Virgil forces himself to say. His face feels hot. He suddenly realizes that he has no idea what his makeup even looks like right now, that maybe his first official impression to Thomas has just been one never-ending shitfest- "I'm, uh. I'm not hungry." He should be leaving, is what he wants to say, but he can't make himself even pretend to want to go back right now. Maybe in a little bit, if he promises not to make too much noise or cause trouble and they let him hang around. 

Thomas frowns. "Are you sure? Not that I'm doubting you on your own body, it's just- warming up like that must have taken a lot of energy. You should eat something before you leave."

Virgil's stomach takes that moment to growl, and now he knows his face is red. "It's not a problem," he mutters, but Thomas is already promising he has food in the kitchen and scampering off, and now it's just Virgil and the other Sides, gathered around the living room like this is a perfectly normal situation.

Creativity wipes chocolate from the corner of his mouth and asks, apparently trading offense for complete lack of tact, "So why were you so cold just now?"

"It's because my soul is a dark, frozen wasteland from which no light escapes," Virgil deadpans, but Patton tilts his head like he's confused at that, and he adds awkwardly, in case Morality thinks he's serious: "Actually I was, uh. Locked in a freezer."

There's a stunned silence. Logic breaks it by saying, utterly baffled, "But surely you were aware of the presence of a safety latch? That's- I know it isn't completely common procedure, but I could swear that they're required in most hotel or restaurant models."

Virgil stares. "It wasn't a walk-in freezer," he says, because what? "Just, like. A normal one. Thomas doesn't even have a walk-in freezer."

"I don't understand," Logic says. "How would someone get trapped in a freezer of that size? It would have shelves. And- surely someone would have noticed your absence, I don't-"

"It was funny," Virgil cuts in. He's really not sure which of them isn't getting the point. "I mean, not to me, they- they thought it was funny. Of course they knew I was in there, that was the point." Don't the Light Sides have pranks? Stuff they do to people weaker than them? Maybe since there's only three of them they have to be more careful, since any alliance can fuck up a third party pretty bad, but- they have to have some idea what he's talking about. They live in Thomas' mind, too.

Roman looks horrified. "So they just left you in there?"

"I would've died eventually," Virgil says, defensive and not sure why. Defensive over something. Just. Something. Strangely enough, that doesn't seem to make them feel any better. Logic stares at him, blank-faced like he's having to restore himself from tertiary memory, and Patton's eyes overflow with tears.

"That's horrible," he chokes out, and before Virgil can tell him it's not so bad actually he's throwing himself forward, wrapping his arms around Virgil's shoulders and burying his face in his shirt. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, that's so bad, you must have been so scared-" and Virgil is lost, okay, he's trapped and clearly the only option is to give in. He relaxes into Patton's hold, something in him loosening at the gentle touch.

Thomas comes back from the kitchen, holding what looks like macaroni and cheese and a tray of everything he could find in the pantry, and freezes, obviously confused. "Patton? Is something wrong?"

"I'm adopting him and you can't stop me," Patton says, clutching Virgil tighter. 

Thomas looks to Logic and Roman. "Okay, now I really don't understand."

"He was cold because he was locked in a freezer," Logic explains after a long moment. Virgil feels like the blue screen has transferred to him. Adopted? They just met. None of them have parents. Thomas' face does something panicky-horrified, and his gaze darts to Virgil. "It would be- that is, Patton thinks-"

"My goodness, no, of course he's not going back to- wherever he was," Thomas says. "I mean, Anxiety, you're one of my Sides. I don't want you getting hurt." He glances at Logic again like he's going to ask something else, but Roman shakes his head and he keeps his mouth shut. Not telling him about the whole other side of his personality, then. Whatever, Virgil can deal with that. 

"I kinda have to go back, though," he points out, because if Logic isn't going to be the voice of reason someone has to be. "My room's there. I literally live there. And- I hate to stress this, but Thomas? We just met."

Thomas sets the tray down with a determined expression and pushes a Pop Tart in Virgil's direction. He picks it up hesitantly. "We can work around that," he says, like he has any idea how it works. "All that matters is if you want to go back. Do you want to go back?"

Virgil is overwhelmed by food and people, and Patton is still right there, pressed into his side like he wants to give him more warmth- like he wants to give him all the warmth he has. Virgil doesn't even have his hoodie. He doesn't even really remember ending up in this situation, or getting out of the freezer, or whatever he did to make Thomas like him so much. Nothing makes sense anymore, and he was just handed a Pop Tart. He takes a bite. It's blueberry. "No?" he finally hazards, because that's always fair, no one wants to live in the Dark Side. "But that's- that's really not how this works-"

"It is now," Thomas tells him firmly, and Roman inches around his side to pilfer the other Pop Tart and trade it for a protein bar. Virgil glowers at him and snatches the bar before he decides to steal that too, telling himself that he'll convince Thomas how bad the idea of him staying is later. For now, he has food and the Light Sides are clustering close to him like a bunch of puppies who've decided he's one of them now. Logic is leaning against his other shoulder, munching contentedly on a health bar; Patton is petting his hair for some reason, which shouldn't feel as good as it does, and Roman is making faces at him over the food but still there, not even trying to pull his sword again. Thomas turns the TV back on and picks out Halloweentown, which isn't even in season, but he does it with a glance at Virgil like he's choosing the gothest thing he can think of. 

It's official: Virgil has no idea what's going on. Still, he guesses, taking another tentative bite of the Pop Tart and feeling a burst of warmth when Thomas smiles at him for it- whatever's happening, he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.