Over And Over, Again And Again. (Sanders Sides Fic)

Eight Hundred, Twenty Four

Warnings: Panic attack, shouting, arguing. Please inform me if you see anymore.

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It’s been roughly two hours since the anxious side broke down, but he sure is glad he did, or he’d most likely be going through another day right now. He wouldn’t be getting the other’s help.

He had told the others what happened, for it was important that Logan knew, in order to get more answers and hopefully solve this never ending puzzle.

There has been more than a few occasions where the argument almost broke out, where he almost lost control once more, but the others were there to help. They keep him and the prince in separate rooms so there’s less chance of it happening. Virgil in the living room, and Roman in Thomas’ bedroom.

The creative side is sat on the floor, leaning against the bed. He can’t help but feel horrible about the whole argument thing. The anxious side didn’t really specify what the prince said, but it had to be bad enough for this to happen, right? And to have to live through that over, what, 40 times? The prince is sure that the anxious side must loath him. The anxious side must be scared for life..what if he’s never the same again? What if this whole experience changed him? What if he’ll never talk to the prince ever again?

The creative side’s mind and heart races with new worry he’s hardly ever had to deal with before. He’s always been the prince, the good guy, the hero, but now..now he’s the villain, isn’t he? He’s the one who caused this.

Back out in the livingroom, there’s a heavy doubt and disbelieve going on between everyone. They don’t really understand how this could happen. How something this absolutely insane, that it sounds like it’s coming from a horror story, could happen.

Though, they don’t question it. They believe in the anxious side. Why would he make something like this up, right? Besides, making things up is the creative one’s job, and Virgil wouldn’t lie to them, right?

“Virgil, may I ask, what time is it usually when you leave after the argument?” The logical side questions, taking a seat beside him on the sofa.

“I’m not exactly sure. I know that I get up at 4:00am, but other than that..I never really have track of time. I’m not sure when I fall asleep, or how, even.” The anxious side responds. He sits in the corner of the couch, curled up in a ball.

Thomas and his morality sit on the floor with their electronics, searching the internet for any answers.

“Virgil,” The logical side leans over a little, speaking quietly. “I don’t think we can’t get you out of this today.”

“What do I do?” The anxious side starts to shiver.

“Don’t panic, you’re fine.” The logical side tries to comfort the other. “I’ve prepared a thing, long ago, in case of severe emergencies. Tomorrow when Thomas summons you, don’t waist any time. As soon as you set foot on those stairs, Virgil. I need you to to tell me the number "eight hundred, twenty four.” It’s something of a code word I have. I should respond immediately.“

"You..have a code word?”

“Of course, I think it’s pretty handy for emergencies, like now. Remember, eight hundred, twenty four.” The logical side turns back to the book in his hand, reading and gathering any possibly helpful information.

The anxious one sighs. At least there’s a chance.

Back in the bedroom, the prince seems to be in some sort of haze. He doesn’t feel like himself. He feels..controlled. Like every gesture, every move, every sound he make is controlled, but it’s him doing it.

He stands up, not really knowing why, but he knows he has to go out of the bedroom. He leaves the room, but the moment he steps foot out of the door, he’s gone. Like something completely took over.

The thing is though, the anxious side feels the same way. When he sees the prince out in the living room, he’s gone, too. Before they both know it, an argument breaks out, and the others can’t stop it this time. Nothing they do works.

They can try to restrain them, shout, and interfere all they want. Absolutely nothing is breaking this argument.

After the harsh words are said, and it’s too late, the boys regain their control.

The prince covers his mouth, eyes wide. He backs away, stunned. How could he say such things to the anxious side? How could he, a prince, be so absolutely horrible? He knows how the other feels, yet those ugly words came flying out of his mouth with no intention to stop.

Meanwhile, the anxious side mirrors the other, hands over his mouth and eyes wide. He’d done it again. He’d messed up again. Things were different for a little while, but he messed up. What if that was his way out?

The anxious one sinks down, back into his room.

When will it end? It was finally going differently. It was unpredictable, but he had to ruin it. He had to argue back..

He’s weak. He can’t even stop himself from arguing back, how pathetic. He ruined his chance, what if that was the way out? What if there is no other way out?

Virgil starts his nightly scheduled panic attack, beating himself up over and over in his mind. Though, the shaking and trembling eventually tires out his body, deeming the boy unconscious for another night.

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