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i-will-physically-fight-you · 4 years

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Monsters in the Closet

Title: Monsters in the Closet

Summary: “You’re so much nicer when you’re bigger.”

Roman knows he can’t change the past. He can’t change the way he treated Virgil horribly, driving him to feel the only way he could be accepted was to be the villain of the story. But he can sit there and feel guilty knowing he is not worthy of any of the trust this young Virgil has placed in him.

(Part of the Tiny Virgil verse, takes place after An Itsy Bitsy Nightmare)

Word-Count: 2.7k

Pairing: Brotherly Prinixety

Warnings: Guilt, Panic/Anxiety, Treating Someone Wrongfully in the Past, Deaging, Hurt/Comfort

This part of a very late birthday present for @theeternalspace! I’m so sorry this took so long, please forgive me and I hope you enjoy! :)

Roman lets out a sigh and opens his eyes. Virgil is still snuggled close to his chest, asleep again after waking up what appeared to be a horrible nightmare. Roman can’t find himself to fall back asleep. His mind refuses to settle, refuses to let go of what Virgil said to him moments ago.

“You’re so much nicer when you’re bigger.”

The words rumble in Roman’s mind like that of a great and fearsome thunderstorm. How could it not? All the more confirmation that regardless of the unfounded trust young Virgil placed in him, he’d still expected to inevitably be treated terribly.

And that? The guilt of that stings deeper than any sting of the blade or a bandersnatch’s ferocious bite.

It also makes him wonder what exactly the Ankle-Terror thought was going on. Kids aren’t stupid. Naïve, yes, but that’s different from being stupid. They’re creative and innovative in ways adults couldn’t dream to be. Plus, they tended to love engaging in-depth conversations about Disney.

Sometimes, Roman misses the days when Thomas was a kid. Back when they were free to run around in the backyard and reimagine the swings as a spaceship or the underneath of the trampoline as the lair of an evil sorcerer. Back when they weren’t bound by inane things such as time constraints and the logistics of translating an idea into a real-world possibility.

He could get Thomas and the others roped in a fantastical make-believe for hours. Weeks even of stretching an incredible imaginary world to its limits. The only things that ever stood in their way was the outside forces of school, parents and bedtime.

Nowadays, the reminiscing with a tinge of regret. There always had to be villains to fight, you see. An evil mad scientist. A corrupt king. A greedy dragon. The list goes on and on. He never ever played the villain. He’d always cast himself and Thomas as the heroes. Logan and Patton were the supporting stars. Virgil and the rest? The villains through and through.

Virgil at this age would be used to this treatment. Rather than in his rightful heroic role as Protector, Defender, Watcher of All Perceived Threats--he played roles such as a wicked sorcerer who cast fear and disgrace upon the entire kingdom with his heinous sorcery.

He took to the roles without much grumbling. Oftentimes, he didn’t perform to young Roman’s expectations. Roman would chastise his performances, critiquing every bit. He wasn’t ever scary or evil enough for a Side responsible for making Thomas scared of monsters under his bed.

Virgil would also veto actions such as climbing super high up a tree and using it as a crow’s nest for a pirate ship. Much to Roman’s dismay, the others would side with him. Logan because Thomas could break a bone if he should fall and Patton because their parents wouldn’t approve. Thus making Virgil a major downer at times in Roman’s eyes and all the more deserving of the villain title.

It wasn’t until Thomas was older, closer to middle school, that Virgil started lashing out. He refused to play along, slinking off to sulk in his room. His influence had also grown and suddenly it wasn’t just monsters under the bed anymore--the monsters were everywhere. Homework, Teachers, Friends, Family. Roman worked overtime to help Thomas escape to worlds unfettered by these fears.

Of course, back then, he presumed this was Virgil fully showing his true colors as an antagonist. Thomas himself believed it, wishing vehemently for Virgil to just disappear. It was Roman’s responsibility, nay his purpose, to make Thomas’s dreams and desires come true. He was the Fairy Godmother to Thomas’s Cinderella. So for years and years he’d pursued this dream, desperate to make Thomas happy, proud even.

Now, he knows better. He knows that Virgil is more than just Anxiety, just like Roman and the others are more than what their title implies. He is vigilant, he keeps Thomas safe from external threats. Sometimes he can be overzealous, but he means well. And shutting him out isn’t the answer. It never was.

With all that in mind, he wonders if the Boy Terror thinks this is one of Roman’s elaborate make-believe games. Roman could easily picture a younger him coming up with a make-believe game involving himself and the others being adults. True, Thomas back then liked envisioning himself as a kid defeating the evil dragon like kids his age did in the media he watched.

But all kids at some point wonder what it’d be like to be an adult. They imagined themselves in the most exciting professions that made a real impact on the world. Then they’d grow up and very few of them made it to such professions.

(Except Thomas of course. Roman is incredibly proud of him and his accomplishments as an Ex-Viner turned Youtuber. Yes, they are still far from achieving feats such as Hollywood or Broadway, but still! For a while Thomas had to settle for a real, sensible job such as a chemical engineer. While science interested him, it didn’t drive him the way that creative pursuits such as singing and acting had. Thomas is lucky to be able to have a platform to do what he loves. Roman tries reminding himself of this during incredibly rare moments of insecurity.)

Kid Fright must be ecstatic about this. For possibly the first time in his life Creativity is including him in a game without making him the villain. Adult Virgil doesn’t talk much about the past--the few times Roman has tried to breach the topic it’d been an instant shutdown.

But Virgil has always cared for them, even before they’d all realized this. He must’ve taken any part Roman gave him out of a desperation to be with them and keep them safe. It sickens Roman just thinking about it. He doesn’t know how Virgil stayed strong for so long. Roman doesn’t know if he could’ve lasted a day in Virgil’s place.

He is probably also terrified and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Regardless of his age, Virgil always expects the worst out of any scenario. Even now that’s been a year since he’s been accepted among the core sides that make up Thomas. He can’t help it, it’s in his nature. Roman can’t blame him for it. One year isn’t enough to undo the damages that the other twenty-nine years caused.

One thing is for certain: if he does think this is one of Roman’s make-believe games, he must think Thomas is still a kid. And Roman’s not sure if he should let Virgil know any different. In fact, it might be best to keep Virgil distracted while the others work to find the solution to this strange vexing problem. Because he knows Virgil won’t take it well to finding his host all grown-up. He thinks that none of them would in his place.

So he’ll keep Fall Out Kid safe away in the mindscape and continue being the Prince he deserved. He’ll allow Virgil to be the hero and he’ll play all the other roles. Sidekick, damsel-in-distress, villain--if he must. It’s silly, but he’s almost buzzing with excitement at all the worlds they could explore from within the common area. Cowboys, Spaceship, Space Cowboys. The possibilities are endless!

A small hand tugs at his sleeve, tugging him away from his thoughts altogether. He looks down at the inquisitive eyes slightly shrouded by a mop of dirty blond hair.

“Yes, little prince?” He says, trying to blink away the prickling sensation in his eyes.

He refuses to cry again in front of the Little Shop of Terror. He knows he will have to confront his bubbling guilt and sorrow at some point, but for now he must push it aside. He is used to this. Being a hero means sometimes remaining strong and not showing vulnerability to loved ones.

“M’hungry.” Virgil murmurs into his chest, little arms wrapped around Roman’s neck. It’s almost endearing with how much he resembles a baby possum clinging to their mother. Roman isn’t used to a Virgil so physically affectionate.

Virgil is like a feral cat. You couldn’t hug or pat him on the shoulder without warning. You had to ask and very rarely did he accept, even if it came from Patton. No, the best way is to let him initiate it. Let him lean his head against your shoulder, or his leg overlapping your own during a movie night.

You also don’t acknowledge it and by not acknowledging it, Virgil then inches his way more until it grows into a proper hug. Then he would withdraw and promptly act like nothing happened. Like you were to forget the interaction ever occured in the first place.

Logan has a theory that it’s because Virgil is the Fight-or-Flight instincts and physical affection lowers his guard in a way he isn’t completely comfortable with. Roman now has a theory that it’s a lot more heartbreaking than that.

“You’re hungry?” Roman asks, attempting to steer his mind out of Despairing Drive and into Present Place.

A small growling noise occurs and Jack Smallington ducks his head down, embarrassed.

Roman isn’t entirely surprised considering that it’s been about eight hours since they discovered approximately five-year-old Virgil in the place of grown-up Virgil. Who knows how long he’d been like that, alone in his room, before that. Virgil also rarely eats so the poor kid probably woke up hungry.

Roman feels so stupid. If it’d been Patton or Logan watching him, the first thing they would’ve made sure is if he was hungry. Because kid or not, it isn’t in Virgil’s nature to be self-advocating. That type of stuff freaks him out. Yet another reason Roman is completely unqualified to watch over Virgil.

“Okay,” Roman breaths in, smiling, “thanks for letting me know, big guy. To the kitchen at once!”

With that, he hoists Virgil up, settling him on top of his shoulders. There’s a squawk of surprise and Roman’s almost worried until it turns into a gleeful giggle. When Roman lets out a neigh, pretending he’s a horse, Virgil’s giggles grow louder.

“You’re not a horse,” Virgil says.

“Neigh I am!” Roman says, “I am your trusty steed and we’re embarking on a perilous-but-completely-safe journey to the kitchen!”

He treks towards the kitchen, clicking his tongue in an imitation of a horse clip-clopping along.

“Faster,” Virgil urges, resting his hands on top of Roman’s head.

“Faster?” Roman asks, almost stopping in surprise.

“Yeah!” Virgil insists, “We gotta get there as fast as possible before any monsters come and eat us!”

“Never fear,” Roman says, “For I shall get us there before any monster even thinks of gobbling us up!”

With that Roman quickens his pace, ensuring he had a firm hold onto Virgil to keep him falling off.

“Faster, faster, faster!” Virgil chants in an anxious yet excited tone, “I think I see one!”

“Oh?” Roman turns his head back, “Oh, I see him too! Neigh, we better hurry!”

There isn’t an actual monster there. No sharp fangs or numerous eyes glaring menacingly in their direction. He can’t tell if Virgil is making up a game or if he actually believes there is one there. Either way, Roman is Creativity. If there’s one thing he knows best, it’s how to combat imaginary foes. Such as reaching the threshold of the kitchen.

With one great bound, he makes it onto the black-and-white checkered tiles.

“Aha! Now no monsters can attack us while we feast in the dwelling of this noble kitchen!” Roman grins, setting Virgil atop the kitchen counter before jumping up to sit beside him.

Virgil beams up at him, face wide with utter delight and awe. Roman is left dumbfounded at this. Even as a kid, Virgil had been very closed-off with his emotions. So shy and distrustful of everyone and everything. But here he looks at Roman like he’s some great hero or something.

‘How,’ Roman wonders, ‘how can you look at me like this when I’m the obstinate villain of this story?’

“Princey,” Virgil swings his legs, “won’t Dad be upset if he finds us sitting on the counter?”

Roman blinks. At first he thinks Virgil is referring to Thomas’s father until he remembers Patton also goes by Dad. For the longest time, Pat had even been insistent that was his name. In the way that young children believe their parents’ real names really are Mom and Dad.

“Well,” Roman says, offering a pinky, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Okay.” Virgil hesitates before interlocking his tiny pinky with Roman’s.

“Excellent! Now what would you like to eat?”

“Ummmm, I--I don’t know.” Virgil bites his lips, eyes flickering around the kitchen. Roman’s heart squeezes at this. He should’ve known such an open-ended question would set his anxiety off. They’ve learned recently that it was better giving Virgil the option of clearly-defined choices rather than vague ones.

“Would you like grilled cheese or spaghetti?” He asks kindly instead.

“Grilled cheese? With applesauce?” Virgil doesn’t meet his gaze, as if afraid Roman will condemn his choices.

Roman smiles, “Your wish is my command.”

He could’ve just snapped the food into existence right then and there. A few years back, it would’ve been enough to suffice. But as much as the Sides influence Thomas, the same holds true the other way around. Thomas once saw a fanart of Patton cooking breakfast for the sides and the idea stuck.

Now Roman could still summon fully prepared meals but they weren’t super filling. Roman didn’t mind too much; contrary to popular belief (Logan) cooking could be a very creative endeavor. As Thomas’s creativity he could make up steps to dishes and still have them turn out perfect in the end. He may or may not enjoy it simply because it frustrated Logan to no end.

He hops off the kitchen counter, snapping a finger. Instantly cabinet doors magically open as the ingredients and the materials he needed floated out onto the countertop beside the stove. Okay, so he cheated a bit, but just because the others lacked a little imagination didn’t mean he couldn’t bend reality in a place where reality is inconsequential.

Roman turns to Virgil, unable to hide his smile at Virgil’s gobsmacked expression.

“Here, you can help put butter on the bread,” He tells Virgil, handing him a butter knife.

Grilled cheese sandwiches are a quick and easy meal. Before too long, Roman hands the kid a plate with a plain grilled cheese cut in halves and a cup of prepackaged apple sauce.

“Thank you,” Virgil squeaks out before digging in.

“Of course.” Roman says, resisting the urge to ruffle the Little Terror’s hair. Instead he takes a bite of his own grilled cheese. Admittedly, he went a bit overboard with his own grilled cheese sandwich; three different types of cheese with lettuce, tomato and pickles. He isn’t quite sure if he’s a fan of the pickles but ah well. So it goes when in the pursuit of creativity.

They eat on top of the kitchen counters with relative silence. Roman hums a bit between bites of grilled cheese. Halfway through, he notices Virgil sending him glances when he thinks Roman isn’t looking. The kid squirms a bit in place, his face twisting in apprehension.

“Is there something troubling you, Little Prince?” Roman asks at last.

“Princey, where are the others? A--are they okay?!”

Oh. Oh, of course. Roman’s heart aches knowing how much Virgil worries and cares for everyone, even at such a young age. He’s so quick to reassure him that he doesn’t even pause to think about the phrasing of his words.

“They’re perfectly fine, rest assured. Logan is shut away in his room reading like the insufferable nerd he is and Patton is simply checking up on our dear Thomas--”

“Thomas?” Virgil breathes in, eyes bright with alarm. His shoulders raise to his ears like hackles raising on a frightened cat.

It is at this moment Roman knew that he messed up.

“Virgil, wait--” Roman pleads, attempting to place a placating hand on his shoulder.

Roman is too late. His hand meets air as Virgil disappears in front of him with a loud crackle. All that’s left is a plate of half-eaten grilled cheese clattering to the countertops and a terror that shakes the entirety of the mindscape.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #brotherly prinixety #kat writes #*slaps roman* this bad boy can fit so much angst and regret #also this more setting up the next fic in the series than anything else #hope you still enjoy it tho

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