The Vigilantes

A Delusional Trap

Um, lemme help you out for this chapter. Bold and italics is the voices and figments of his illusion talking to him.

TW: Panic attack, crying, harmful words, lies, good luck

He needed to breathe. Deceit was not here. Neither was The Duke. Just figments of his imagination. Just figments of his illusions. But they looked so real, and Virgil was sure. But just a homeless man in yellow glasses. Just a woman in a yellow sundress, even though it was clearly freezing outside. It was never really Deceit.

But it didn't explain everything. Why now? Why his fears evolved into illusions? Why him?

Maybe you're mad...

No, no, no. Please, no.

Maybe it's a sign...

No, no, no.

To turn back to us...

"NO!" He screamed. People had heard, of course, but he didn't care. He sprinted to his apartment, looking for the key while he ran.

Virge, you know you miss us...

He didn't, he knew he didn't. They were his fears. His darkest terrors. Why would he want to go back? It was all just his imagination. It was just his powers losing control.

Just come back...

Get. Out.

We miss you...

Stop, please..

We LOVE you...

The door was right there, and, honestly, he just wanted to be in his room. Music so loud that it drowns out the voices and takes him to another place. He just had to put the key in.

Then what? They'll think you're crazy, mad, insane. But I'm sure you are...

He shoved the key into the door, pushing the door open. "Hey, Kiddo," Patton paused as Virgil ran to his room and slammed the door. Now, his headphones. Where were they? He could've sworn...

You can't get rid of me...

Now he was throwing blankets across the room, yanking pictures off of his dresser. A framed picture crashed into the wall, making a sickening crack.

You can't get rid of us...

Please, go....

You need us...

No...

His breath was hitching, and he was sure someone was pounding on the door. It sounded so faint compared to the obnoxious voice.

Only we love you...

"Virgil?" It sounded so much clearer.

Only we love you...

"What's happening to him, Lo?" "Logan, can't you read his mind?" "Virgil, you need to respond."

ONLY WE LOVE YOU...

"Get out of my head!" There they were. Deceit and The Duke, staring at him. Eyes locked in their uncanny focus. "Who are they?!" "Remus?"

"Only we can love you, Virgil... We took care of you... We loved you when no one else would..."

He could hear them both talking in unison. His purple eyes wide as he stared at them and they made the three people he could love so dearly, yet despise so much.

"Virgil, focus on my voice. Who are these people? And where are they coming from?" He tried, he really did. But there was his family. The ones who were supposed to take care of him. The ones who were supposed to love them.

"Did they ever love you, Virgil? Did they ever care?" The illusion of Deceit asked. "We did," gesturing towards Remus, "We cared. So much. Just come back." The words were haunting. He just wanted them to go away. Why wouldn't they go away?

"How does he know Remus?" He was sure that was Roman asking, but the voice was faint. He was trapped inside his own illusion. His own trap.

"They're not real. They're not real. They're not real," He could hear himself muttering, but they looked so real. He could feel their presence, but he knew they weren't real.

"Look at me child," his mother cooed. The image was perfect. As if he had seen her yesterday, but he knew he hadn't seen her for years. It was the voice that sounded strained. Like she hadn't talked before. "Disgusting, just disgusting."

"Please go away..."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, a disappointment. He would have never fit in." His father.

"Please..."

"A shame too. I would have loved to have a brother." His younger brother cocked his head in inspection. "How could anyone love you?"

"You're not real, you're not real, you're not real..."

Mother, father, brother. Mother, father, brother. Mother, father, brother.

"Virgil, you're okay." Logan? His voice was clearer. Stronger. "You need to breathe with me." But could he? He could see the distaste for him etched in his family's faces, and the 'love' he so desperately wanted in the arms of Deceit and The Duke.

"In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8." There was Logan again. He was in front of him now. His thumbs wiping away any stray tears. "Try, Virgil."

He did. He tried so hard to breathe. But the figures, his terrors, his fear was louder now, clouding his head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"It's quite all right, Virgil. You can do it."

"Yeah, Kiddo! You got this!" Patton?

"C'mon, Emo." Roman?

"Okay... Okay..." So he tried again, slightly more successful. He could do this. They aren't real. It's just you. Calm down.

Only we love you...

He breathed in.

Listen to me...

He held it.

Listen...

He let go. And the images disappeared, as if they never existed. He was still scared, but he was better. He could feel Patton's arms around him. "It's okay, Kiddo."

He lifted his hands, examining them. This isn't an illusion, just breathe.

"Uh, Virge, you okay?" He looked to see Roman offering him his hand. He nodded slightly, taking it and standing up. He stumbled a bit, but felt Patton's hands balance him.

His head was sore, and his heart was beating triple its speed, hands shaking unsteadily.

"So, Kiddo... you have powers?"

He had forgotten that part. They had just watched him freak out over powers he didn't want. He just wanted to sleep, but he knew, they knew, that they'd all have to discuss this again.

"Virgil? Can you speak?" He saw Logan standing next to the door of his room, far away from him. Was he scared of him? He didn't mean to fly off the handle like that, he was just so, so scared.

It's okay. You're okay.

"I'm, I'm s-sorry," He mumbled. He glanced to where Deceit and The Duke stood. They don't love you...

"It's okay, Kiddo. But we should talk."

They don't love you...

"O-Okay."

They will never love you...

"Okay."

_________

Woooooah, that was pretty complex, and a whole lot, but I hope you enjoyed Virgil's moment of panic and stress. Actually, I felt bad writing it, but he had to suffer for the story to work.