Sanders Sides One Shots

Bury - Virgil-Centric

Tw/Cw: Murder, Main Character Death, Anaphylactic shock

"I'm so sick of burying things." Virgil said, sipping his black coffee. Across the walnut-colored coffee shop table sat Roman. Virgil's eyes were trained on his fingers, tapping one after the other on the wooden tabletop. Pointer finger, middle finger, ring finger, pinky. Tap, tap, tap, tap.

"That's very understandable. Emotions can be so tricky sometimes! Especially if they're stigmatized ones, and-" Roman began. That was a lot of words for Virgil's brain, which was processing on low capacity. He hadn't slept the night before. Virgil straightened his posture.

"Shovel hurts my hands. Damn wooden handle keeps splintering." Virgil interrupted. He sipped his coffee, and upon hearing no response, looked up at Roman.

Roman was watching Virgil in return. His mouth hung a bit open, lips parted mid word. His eyes carefully watched Virgil's. The corners of Roman's mouth quirked upwards. A small awkward chuckle left Roman's mouth. Virgil shifted in his seat again.

"Is this some kind of.. weird analogy?" Roman asked, concerned and oblivious of the previous nights events. Virgil's eyes flashed down to Roman's un-lidded coldbrew, and then back up to meet Roman's gaze.

"Yeah, yeah. Hey Ro?" Virgil hummed. Roman blinked a few times, before shutting his mouth and shaking his head. Shrugging off Virgil's odd behavior, perhaps. Roman took a drink of his coldbrew. Now it was Virgil's turn for a subtle smile to cross his face. 

"Yeah Virge?" Roman replied. Roman's eyes trailed Virgil's body. He looked so tense. More tense than usual that is. Virgil was fidgeting with his fingers, rapping them on the table and tapping this foot on the floor, shifting his sitting position every few moments and glancing all around them. What was up with the emo today?

"How quick do you guys usually solve cases?" Virgil asked, fixing his eyes on Roman's left wrist. He was avoiding eye contact mostly, not wanting to look his best friend, a literal homocide detective, in the face.

"It... depends on the case. My departments average is two months, but that's only because of the Elenna Betsy murder in 2016 that took like three years. We get 99 percent of them in a week or two i'd say." Roman replied softly. Virgil could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. He had made it 16 hours so far.

Roman sighed softly. Virgil had never taken intrest in Roman's job. Well, that wasn't the entite truth. Virgil had asked many questions, but none were about Roman's days or what he did, just general information.

~~~~~~~

"Virgil. Oh my god. Virgil... what did-.." Roman stammered softly. Instantly Roman was in action, pacing back and forth behind Virgil. Roman placed his hands on the back of his neck, thinking.

"You- Virgil we got a missing person's report for this guy today. You killed him- Virgil this is serious." Roman said sternly. Virgil stared silently at the body layed carefully in a shallow grave. The mans glasses broken and askew, tie loose, black polo shirt bloodied.

"Virge? I- I can't breathe very well." Roman stammered. Virgil perked up at that, looking at Roman. Roman felt throat thicken. His brain wasn't working right, he couldn't think.

"Probably hay fever from the field." Virgil said calmly. Virgil walked up to Roman and placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to show his comradery.

Roman made a noise from low in his throat. Sort of a gasping noise.

Virgil watched as Roman's air flow cut off, the brown haired detective falling to his knees, hand on his throat, begging the universe for air. Roman knew Virgil too well. Virgil knew Roman had been seeing signs for awhile now. A little peanut was easy to hide in coldbrew. And when your friend is deathly allergic to something so easily accessible, you take the chance, if you're willing to. Virgil grinned, watching as Roman turned blue, then passing out and falling to the dirt. Virgil then grabbed his cellphone.

"Hello?! 911!? Detective Roman just passed out, I think he's dead!"