the night of june 2nd // sanders sides ✔

38 : stay

*TW: Memory of sexual assault and possibly very triggering discussion, anxiety attacks, alcohol*

Declan left with a kiss on Virgil's temple as soon as he tucked him into bed as if he were a small child.

When the clock turned 9:36 PM, the beer seemed to rush through his whole body and he left bed to run to the bathroom in a cold sweat.

He grabbed around in the dark for his meds but when he had the bottle in hand, he was shaking so hard, he couldn't pop the cap off like he always could. The orange bottle fell into the sink miserably and Virgil couldn't function well enough to pick it up and try again.

Instead, he sat on the edge of the sink, breathing hard to the point he was wheezing.

"STOP! STOP, PLEASE!"

He felt her hands around his neck.

"PLEASE! I DON'T WANT THIS!"

Her hands choked him to the point he really thought—

This is how I die.

He saw himself punch her and shove her to the ground, but she was stronger than him and faster than him, and shouted as he bolted away through the crowd of people, all staring at him.

"Virgil? Oh, he left. Just ran. I dunno why."

And he saw the door fling open and the familiar scent of weed erupted out from inside.

Murderous eyes burned into Virgil's.

Running until he couldn't feel his legs, he reached his car and slammed the door shut as fast as he could, speeding away. His level of intoxication wasn't extremely high, but it was high enough for him to earn a DUI if he was caught.

In that moment, with the taste of beer burning his throat, he didn't care.

The inside of his mouth tasted like blood and beer and her tongue and insufferable pain.

Home.

He would go home and Jennie would help him to calm down and he would try to sleep, and when he would wake, he would forget.

Nothing else would happen that night.

It was already bad enough.

Nothing else could make it worse.

But when Virgil's memory focused on Roman's dead body on the sidewalk and the scent of weed coming from the area, he was in his bathroom again.

Staring into his own reflection.

The bottle was still in the sink.

He tried to return to the memory, but it was as if he had been dreaming and was trying to remember it. But it was slipping away.

Damnit.

The only remnants he needed to remember were gone.

And now she was engraved in his mind, possibly forever.

And he thought—

Why me?

Suddenly he got a call from Logan.

Letting it ring a couple times, Virgil stared at his screen in confusion. Then he picked up.

"Logan?"

"Virgil. Patton wanted me to tell you he's getting better and he'll be out of the hospital soon, though he will have a hard time walking for a week or so. But he's okay."

All of Virgil's emotions were heightened that night. From the alcohol, but also from the memory that he didn't even mean to have. "Why are you Patton's spokesperson?" he spat. "Why can't he tell me himself?"

"He wants us to talk to each other again. He's worried about you. He knows that if he tells you to talk to me, you'll be too afraid to talk to me and you'll feel worse about yourself."

"Well, fucking tell Patton to talk to me because everything is going so wrong right now," he said, choking back sobs. "I've lost everything, so just leave me alone, because I know that that's what you want! If Patton wants to talk to you instead of to me, let him! I don't care, let me be alone!"

When Logan noticed a few words here and there were slurred, Virgil could practically hear Logan's heart shattering.

"Are you drunk?" he asked, his voice small all of a sudden.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Virgil, don't."

"Why not? You don't control me. I might do it again, just to piss you off because you're being so fucking annoying right now."

"Don't."

Logan's voice cracked. The two were silent for a while before Logan hung up on him.

Staring solemnly at the bottle, Virgil sighed.

He stumbled back to bed. But he knew he wouldn't sleep that night. He didn't want to sleep.

Virgil didn't have a drinking problem like Patton did, and he realized too late that what he'd said to Logan, although he was drunk and obviously hadn't meant what he said, was a big fucking mistake.

It was such a big mistake because it would trigger Logan's extreme anxiety attack which would take an hour and a half to calm down from. And even when he thought he was calm, he was still slightly trembling.

He was wrapped in the coat Remus said he could keep. Usually, he'd be wearing something of Roman's, but it depressed him and made him remember all too much. The good and the bad both contributed to mess him up.

The anxiety got him so bad, his head was spinning until it hurt and all he could do then was lay in bed on his side and cry with his teeth clenched. He tried to sleep, and from the energy all used up during the anxiety attack and from crying, he passed out almost as soon as he let himself close his eyes for a few seconds.

He dreamt of Roman next to him on a wide field for a picnic, sipping a glass of red wine. He dreamt of Roman proposing with the ring that unfortunately could only hang around Logan's neck these days.

He dreamt everything would be okay.

It was a nice dream, but Logan's wasn't one to dream. Still, Roman's presence surrounded him, even while he was asleep.

At 6 AM, Dream Roman woke Logan up with the word "Stay."