Innerworks

6. Their Side

Could he really become one of those?

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"Prince, calm down!"

"I can't calm down Logic, what if he turned into one of them!"

"What did I tell you Logic? It's a possibility!"

"Oh for the love of- Morality he's not fading!"

Prince suddenly stopped his frantic opening and closing of random mental doors.

As a matter of fact he stopped moving completely, he stood still, rim-rod straight, back turned from the other two, left hand just shy of reaching the knob.

The other two froze as well.

Logic was getting worried about the royal boy, he had been on the verge of, what was no doubt, a mental breakdown.

They had been looking for Anxiety for about.... an hour, he was sure of it, time flies fast when you're looking for a sick and missing Personality.

He refused to believe that the other was fading or had faded, he refused and avidly at that too, there was just no way.

There wasn't enough data on fading personalities in the first place, no one knew how long it took to fade, he doubted a week would be enough.

He doubted that Anxiety would turn into one of those.

He doubted.

Doubt.

That's what he was feeling.

He was unsure.

He didn't know.

He didn't like that.

He didn't like that he didn't know if a week was enough, he didn't like that there was a possibility of the younger personality actually fading, he didn't like that Anxiety could become one of those.

He didn't like it, because...

Because it would be his fault if it happened.

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"Don't you know that all you do is hurt him?"

He cut the other off before he began.

"No of course you don't, you don't care, you don't care about anything other than yourself!"

He did it again.

"Don't bother answering, you know it's true, you're selfish, stubborn and arrogant, for all the unruly children I've ever had to deal with as a teacher, you are by far the worst"

The other flinched, he didn't stop.

"You are a personality Anxiety, a part of Thomas and yet you play perfectly into the stereotype, you leech off Thomas so much you physically and mentally drain him, a little anxiety is good but what you are is a- is a plague, you're supposed to protect our host, but all you do is hurt him, how can you live with yourself? Thomas just cried himself into unconsciousness because of what you did, tell me honestly, do you even care about him at all?!"

Anxiety didn't answer, the darker personality's face was completely hidden by his hood, his pale fists were clenched.

Logic took it as a sign of anger, the teacher was so angry he dismissed the odd thin liquid like tracts as mere reflections or a trick of light on the younger's face.

He stood there seething and red faced in the kitchen, glaring at Anxiety's back as the younger retreated quietly towards his room.

He ignored the drops of liquid on the floor, mere tricks of light.
....

They weren't tears then, but now they were. Logic swallowed thickly, guilt flooded through him, he was so angry that day, he said the first thing that came out of his mouth, horrible things that he knew would hurt the other, what kind of person was he?

He didn't even believe that the darker personality was ill, he held a grudge against the other, he didn't care until he saw the sick boy and like an idiot, he approached him.

"How are you feeling?"

Stupid, that's what, it's no wonder the kid passed out from shock- no fear, Anxiety feared him and it's all his fault.

How could he say such mean things and then magically forget that he hurt the other?

How could he have done that, to a child no less? Anxiety may have been with Thomas since he was young but he was the last to become an actual personality, thus the child of the group.

He was supposed to be a Teacher, patient and kind, a guide to even the most unruly, a guide to- to... he was supposed to help the other, Anxiety was the embodiment of Thomas' deepest fears and he just deliberately used those fears against the person who suffered from them the most.


If Anxiety really was or had faded, it was because of hi-

"It's my fault"

Logic blinked, Prince was the one who spoke, soft voice and trembling hand, still outstretched, still not touching the knob.

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