Broken (Prinxiety)

14

  TW: Mentions of self-harm

    Patton was kneeling on the floor among the piles of items from Thomas's past, tears streaming down his face. Standing near him was Depression, a satisfied look on his face. Virgil took a step back, realizing that it wasn't Patton who had summoned him.

      "Nice of you to join us, Virgil." Depression's voice was laced with venom and the tone that he used made Virgil shiver. 

      "Res...leave him alone." Virgil was trying to seem strong. There was a tremor to his voice, though, and he shoved his hands in his pockets to stop them from trembling. He vaguely registered that he still had the note from Deceit in his pocket, though he ignored it for the time being. 

      Depression's eyes narrowed, and he strode forward, his face inches away from Virgil's. "Don't use that nickname," he stated, his voice soft. Virgil could see the anger in his eyes, though. "You lost the right to call me that when you betrayed me."

      "He betrayed you?" The two looked towards Patton, who had shakily stood, his arms wrapped around himself. His cheeks were tear-stained, and he sniffled a little. 

      Depression let out a low, empty laugh. "Oh he betrayed me all right! We were supposed to be a team. Anxiety and Depression, working together. We would have been perfect! But then little Virgil here decided that he was better than me, that I was the bad guy." 

      "It wasn't like that at all," Virgil protested. "I wanted to help Thomas, and--"

      "Blah blah blah, you're the hero, shut up." Depression gave him a glare, and Virgil fell silent. "Instead of talking to me, he decided to go behind my back! He tricked me into going deep into Thomas's mind, and locked me away for years!"

      "I'm sure it wasn't like that, kiddo--" 

      "Shut up!" Depression's snarl caused both sides to flinch. "Don't you dare call me kiddo! You're just as bad as Virgil!"

      Patton had a guilty look on his face, making an already confused Virgil even more confused. Seeing Virgil's puzzled look, Depression's eyes widened slightly, before a smirk formed on his face. 

      "So he doesn't know...shall I be the one to tell him?" 

      "Tell me what?" Virgil looked between Patton and Depression. Hearing this, Depression began to laugh. 

      "Depression, don't--"

      "Oh, don't even start, Patton. Or should I call you Dad?" Patton seemed to shrink a little. 

      Virgil froze, his blood turning to ice. "No way..."

      "Yes way!" Depression looked gleeful, something that Virgil hadn't seen in a ling time. "Patton created us, you know. All of his bad feelings were too much for him to handle, so he filtered them out. We were made as a result.

      "Don't you see," he continued, "It's not my fault that I'm this way! Patton made me this way! It's because of him that you and I are the bad guys!" 

      Virgil was too shocked to be able to speak. He looked towards Patton, who was looking towards the ground and biting his lip. His eyes were shining with fresh tears. This was more than enough to confirm what Depression had said. 

      "Oh, and there's more. Patton here didn't want to keep us! I mean, who would? We embody anxiety and depression. We could never fit in with his fantasy of everything being perfect and happy and good. So what did he do? Pass us off to Deceit and Remus."

       Virgil felt his heart sink. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Well, he could, but he didn't want to.

      "Virgil, kiddo, it wasn't as if I didn't want to!" Patton's voice wavered. "I was in a really bad place at the time, and it was clouding my judgement. I'm really sorry..."

      "You thought that I was bad..." Virgil's voice was no more than a whisper. 

      "No, I--"

      "You did," Depression interrupted. "Stop lying to him! It's not like you actually care about him."

      "Res--Depression is right," Virgil whispered. Of course he was right; he was always right. "I was stupid to believe that I could fit in...that I could be more than just the bad guy. None of you actually care about me...so stop pretending."

      "He's not right," Patton protested. "I really do care about you, and I know the others do as well."

      "You've proved that so well," said Depression sarcastically.  "You created him then abandoned him, and labeled him as something bad. Logan doesn't take his concerns seriously, and Roman has stated that he hated him and would constantly insult him." 

      In one swift movement, Depression reached out, yanking Virgil's jacket off of him by ripping it. Virgil gasped and tried to cross his arms over his chest, but Depression dropped the jacket and grabbed his arm. He twisted it so that Patton could catch sight of the cuts littering the inside of his arm. 

      Patton's eyes went wide as he caught sight of them, and tears began to fall down his cheeks. 

      "See this?" Depression shook Virgil's arm slightly. "You and your little buddies were the ones who made him do this to himself, you know. You treated him so awfully that he hurt himself! Are you proud of yourself?" 

      Patton stepped forward and reached out as if to grab Virgil's arm, but then withdrew his hand when Virgil moved away from him. 

      "Looks like your son is afraid of you," Depression sneered. "Look at him--he moved away from you! What a great dad you are." 

      Depression released Virgil, and he quickly summoned himself another jacket to hide his arms. His brother stepped forward onto the old, ripped jacket, then paused as he heard the sound of rustling paper. 

      "What's this?" He bent down and picked up the note that Deceit had given Virgil, before he opened it up and read it. He hummed softly, before looking up towards Virgil. "So that's why he didn't accept my invitation...seems like you are his favorite. No matter, I can do this all on my own." 

      Without another word, he sank out, leaving Patton and Virgil. 

      "Virgil, I'm sorry," Patton whimpered. Virgil shook his head, turning away. "I never meant to hurt you!"

      "I don't believe you, Patton." Virgil took a shaky breath. "I gotta go." Before he could protest, Virgil sank out.