Saving Prince Charming

The Aftermath.

To say it ran silent would be redundant, since one of the two couldn’t speak at all, but the sentiment of the statement rang loudly in the air. Logic would be lying if he said he didn’t feel worthless right now: because he was. He needed his voice, his Influence. Without it, he couldn’t counteract Prince’s wild daydreams, Morality’s ironically fanciful plans. Sometimes, even Anxiety’s spider-traps of woven nightmares and thoughts needed tearing down, but without his voice…  

There really was no point to him, was there?

And… and that was only one side of this whole mess, wasn’t it? Forget him, what about Anxiety living in a room that required self-hatred and fear and hurt to even enter?

Anxiety tensed, feeling the waves of horrible, horrible helplessness rolling off of his best friend. He felt all of the shattered glass shards of his friend’s formerly intact psyche digging into his heart and soul and bleeding hate, and—

He shook his head, eyes widening.

“No— no, you are not worthless. You’re gonna be the one to figure this all out, you’re gonna be the one to save us, we need you. I need you. Your voice does not define you, we can write things down, I can translate, but god, you are not worthless.”

Logic sighed, his uncertainty dancing in his eyes and in his aura. Even if he was right, even if he wasn’t an insignificant unworthy waste of space—

…What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t figure out that black hole (whatever it was) right now, he couldn’t even think right now, but Anx had said it himself, he had to, he had to, he had to—

What was he supposed to do?

Anxiety took a deep breath, forcing the horrid grey emotion that was rising up his throat to heel. He had just realized what he had said, the toll it could take on Logic— no pressure, much? He immediately felt guilty: How could he? How dare he add to the already too-large pile of worry?

But no. He couldn’t allow himself to be swallowed by the panic, not right now, even if the things Logic was thinking about himself was making him sick to his stomach, even if his worry was expanding in his head so that it felt like actual physical pressure. He had to fix this.

He needed to keep a level head, he needed to rationalize. Because if Logic couldn’t do it for himself, then maybe, maybe, he could help.

“Right now… right now, you don’t need to do anything. You’re thinking in a way that’s overwhelming. Remember all those times you’ve told me to not do that? One thing at a time. Breathe. We don’t have to figure it out this very second, and you don’t have to figure it out alone.”

Logic’s thoughts began to slow. They weren’t chasing each other anymore, they weren’t working against him. He took into consideration Anxiety’s words.

He had a point. He’s led Anxiety away from that sort of mindset countless hundreds of times, he couldn’t go around making the very same mistake. He must’ve been absolutely radiating negative emotion, as well, because how else would Anx have known exactly what he was thinking?

Okay, he mouthed. Then where do we start?

He fidgeted with the ends of Anx's sweater, nervous and unused to being on this side of these questions.

“Alright… alright, the first step should be to get Sir Sings-A-Lot to his room, before he screams himself hoarse.” He chuckles, pulling at his hair. He wasn’t used to being the voice of reason either, and while this was the first logical step, it wasn’t going to be easy on either of their mental states. His entire being  was telling him to stop, bad idea, you’re only gonna get yelled at again—

But it’s what Logic would do.

Logic sat up, straightening his appearance and attempting to make himself look less upset, less frazzled. He had to appear calm, collected. He had to look normal [as normal as he could with his glasses gone, his cheeks tearstained, his tie crooked—]

I can handle that. I’m not letting him near you.

“No… no, we’ll both go. Stronger together, yeah?” He gave a weak grin. He was still supremely worried about Logic, this was his first ever attack, and he knows how easy it is to slip back into the ever-circling poisonous ideas, how easy it was to succumb to the flesh-eating vultures of overthought.

He needed to be there. To make sure he was okay, and to ease his own mind, Prince be damned.

Logic gave a hesitant look, but he knew Anx well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let him go alone. He knew what concern looked like on the trait, and it was written on his every feature at the moment. He was grateful, though. Prince was going to be a handful and they both knew it. He nodded, stood up, and with one final glance around his best friend’s beautiful (monstrous, inhumane) room, he pulled them both to the Commons.

Allthefandomsgamer is, of course, my lovely amazing coauthor!