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Virgil sat up with a gasp, a scream lodged in his throat. The acrid smell of smoke was fading from his nostrils and the monstrous roars were fading from his ears, but the fear and hopelessness was still there. Virgil gripped his blankets tightly, hoping if he held them tight enough he wouldn’t cry.
Come on, it’s just a nightmare, I’m over 30 years old, I’m too fucking old to cry over a fucking nightmare.
Despite his best efforts, tears splashed on the comforter beneath him.
Dammit.
The terror and certainty of death was back full-force, and he felt very vulnerable all alone in his room, breaths coming faster and faster. The darkness seemed to hide countless bloodthirsty monsters, and Virgil was torn between wanting to keep his eyes open to scan for threats and closing them against his fate.
It’s just the dark, it’s just the dark… dammit.
Virgil summoned the last of his courage to spring out of bed, raced across his room in the threatening darkness, and turned on his bedroom light. He whipped around, as illogical as he knew it was, and looked around for monsters that would kill or hurt him. His chest was heaving with his panting, and he did everything he could to calm his racing heart.
You could die, at any time, and you’d have no control over it.
He bit his knuckles and squeezed his eyes shut uselessly against the tears.
And then that would be it. Poof, lights out. No more Virgil. You’d be dead, and everything would be left unfinished, you wouldn’t be able to experience anything else, and how much would your “famILY” really mourn you?
Virgil sensed shifting, so he looked into Thomas’ realm and winced.
Fuckfuckfuck, me freaking out over a nightmare is giving Thomas a nightmare. He quickly appeared in Thomas’ realm to help soothe his fears and hopefully his nightmare, and was greeted with the scent of coffee.
“So V, is this- oh honey, what happened?”
Remy switched into Mama Bear mode immediately. Virgil internally cursed when he realized he’d been caught with eyeshadow running down his face.
Images of Remy teasing him for his nightmare, telling him how much of a pathetic, weak moron he was while he was already raw, flitted through his mind. Virgil hung his head and balled the sleeves of his hoodie in his hands.
“It’s okay emo, you don’t have to be embarrassed. Did something happen?”
Virgil wanted to simultaneously leave the situation and also receive some form of comfort.
“Nightmare,” he ground out. His head whipped up. “Oh shit, Thomas!”
“Roman’s got the nightmare handled sugar, it’s okay.”
Virgil ground his teeth, beginning to berate himself for making other people do more work because of him.
“I see you thinking. Stop it.”
Virgil snorted. “You joined Roman in “no thinking”?”
“Always been there. Anygay, you look dead tired. You’re busy for some reason tomorrow right?”
Virgil remembered the meet and greet. “Probably, yeah. Shit, I can’t be tired, I need all the sleep I can get so I don’t fuck everything up for Thomas-”
“Omg bitch, breathe. I can get you to sleep.”
Virgil stopped in his tracks. “Oh. Right.”
“Dork. Lay down.”
Virgil frowned at the bed. “Next to Thomas?”
Remy rolled his eyes. “No, on his dick. Where else?”
Virgil didn’t try to bite back the smile. Okay, he doesn’t think less of me, that’s good. He laid down next to Thomas and turned his head towards his Host.
“Can I start running my fingers through your hair?” Remy asked, voice softer.
“Yeah.”
Remy did just that, murmuring that Virgil was safe, that he was okay. The threatening and fatalistic voices had faded, enough that Virgil could start silencing them himself. The magic seeping into his scalp was lulling him to sleep. Just before he went under, he heard,
“Sleep well, coffee bean.”