Work Text:
Virgil was the youngest of six boys. He shouldn't have been the one handling the paperwork for his mother and father's funeral. Virgil was the youngest of six boys. He shouldn't have been the one running the family business for the past two years while his parents got sicker and sicker. Virgil was the youngest of six boys. The youngest . Of six .
"No, I get that you couldn't make it, Pat," Virgil said on the phone, pinching it between his shoulder and his ear as he tugged the buttons at his cuffs undone. "You've got yourself swamped with the divorce, I get it, I swear."
"I should've been there," Patton simpered. "I would've been there, you know that, right?"
"'Course, Patton, I get it. Divorces take a lot of paperwork, probably more than funerals," Virgil joked, but he could instantly tell it wouldn't quite land like he wanted. He wished he could swallow his own tongue and choke on it. Then the flower shop and the house could go to one of his brothers, and he could go back to Mom and Dad. But that wasn't what he wanted, really. Virgil rolled up his black sleeves and turned to the living room, seeing Roman and Logan sitting on the couch and chatting quietly, sending him the occasional odd look.
"Virgil… you're so understanding," Patton sighed. "I still don't know what I'm going to do after this is over."
"We already decided you were coming home, didn't we?" Virgil reminded, and Patton chuckled weakly on the other end of the line.
"I mean- I can't be a stay home dad forever, can I? But I don't have work experience, or- or any college degrees," Patton explained.
Virgil was the youngest of six, he shouldn't have to offer his older brother a job. Logan was watching him more obviously now, the conversation between him and Roman dying as a result. "You can come work at the flower shop, Pat. It's a family business for a reason."
"Oh, Virgil," Patton sounded awfully weepy now, like he was going to start crying over the phone. Virgil cringed, fiddling with the fold of his sleeve for a moment. Roman was looking over at him now too, a question lingering in both of his brothers' eyes that Virgil didn't know how to even begin to answer.
"It's really nothing, Pat, don't- don't cry," Virgil assured, taking his phone back into his hand and straightening his head. He turned his back to the counter that looked out into the living room. He felt Roman and Logan's eyes on him still.
"Virgil, I really can't thank you enough," Patton declared. "You're too good to me. Really ."
"It's no problem," Virgil insisted, wanting nothing more than for the call to be over. "Now, I gotta go submit the check for the headstone guys, so I gotta go. Don't want them taking the whole thing back, right?"
Virgil was lying. He'd already paid off all the people he needed to, and he'd paid for the gravestone commission up front. He had also filled out all the necessary paperwork. The receipts were filed in his desk in the back shed. Still, Patton made a noise of assent.
"Of course, Virgil, you do what you need to do. And one more time: I'm really sorry. I'd be there, you know I would," Patton said.
He knew. He also knew it wasn't fair. Virgil was the youngest of six, but he'd been the one who called the doctor when Mom couldn't breathe. He'd been the one who visited her in the hospital daily for two years , he'd been the one the doctors told when she was dying. He'd been the one to receive the call one morning that she had died in the night, and his father had died the following morning. And none of that was fair, either. It wasn't fair that Logan was with his partner halfway across the country, or that Roman was chasing his dreams halfway across the country in the opposite direction. It wasn't fair that Janus was behind bars up north, or that Remus was still in rehab. It wasn't fair that Virgil was here, that Virgil was the only one available, when his parents died.
Virgil was the youngest of six, but he was never allowed to hide under the shelter of his big brothers, not even now when their parents had died and left them all dangling in the wind.
"Bye, Patton. We're gonna be okay, eventually," Virgil lied again. He didn't know if they would ever be okay.
"Goodbye, Virgil."
The phone clicked. Virgil tucked it away in his pocket and licked his lips, letting out a thick breath. An entire family's grief weighed heavy on his shoulders.
At least Mom and Dad got to rest now.