~ Wings ~ Sanders Sides ~

~ Chapter Thirty-one ~ Third person ~

Later that night, Patton sits in his room, silently crying. He knows he can't end it; every time he looks at the gun, he can hear Virgil's voice. Lifelines are so effective, too effective sometimes. He sighs, unaware of the black tendril slowly creeping towards him until it's around his neck. The moral side only has enough time to let out a strangled yelp before he can't breathe. He claws at the tendril hoping someone, anyone, heard him. Logan, Roman, Virgil, even Deceit or Remus, as long as he was heard.

Luckily for him, someone did hear. Virgil pushes back his headphones, not sure who he should check on, so he decides to check on Patton first. "Hey, Pat, I thought I heard a scream, is every—" The anxious side stops short when he sees Patton, then runs over to him, cursing under his breath. "Hang in there, Pat. LOGAN! ROMAN!"

"Yes, em—" Roman begins as he rises up, then inhales sharply. "What the hell?!"

"This is... not good." Logan adds, adjusting his glasses.

"Understatement," Virgil mutters, then at a normal volume, asks, "What do I need to do?" The panic rolling off of him in waves is only amplified by Patton's.

The creative side forms an orb of light. "Virge, move," he commands. The anxious side takes one glance at him and hugs Patton tighter. The moral side responds by weakly grasping Virgil's shoulder. His vision is starting to blur at the edges and black spots are popping up.

"No. I need to read his aura, and you're going to mess it up." The anxious side's voice has a hard edge to it and his eyes are almost... glowing? Roman blinks a couple times, then reluctantly sighs and lets the orb dissipate.

Virgil turns his attention back to the moral side, whose eyelids are starting to flutter. "Patton. Stay with me." The anxious side takes a deep breath and his eyes glow full white. He moves a hand to the shadowy tendril, careful not to touch it. His hand hovers there for a moment.

Virgil mutters something unintelligible under his breath, then orders in a no-nonsense tone, "Camden Depression Sanders, get in here right now."

Depression pops up, clapping. "I'm impressed, Virgil! You've never been able to do this before."

"Well, my loved ones have never been in danger before, either," the anxious side snaps sarcastically, meeting Depression's eyes with a hard gaze of his own. "So that's probably why."

"Fair enough, fair enough." Depression flicks his wrist and the shadowy tendril around Patton's neck slinks back. The moral side slumps over, his eyes closed. With a dark chuckle, the side of depression sinks out.

Logan walks over to Virgil and Patton, then takes Patton's wrist. After a moment, he sighs. "His heart is still beating," he informs the others. "He is merely unconscious. Allow him time to rest. He will wake up, I assure you."

"You guys go ahead," Virgil says, his voice tired. "I'm gonna stay with Pat."

"If you insist." The logical and creative sides walk out.

With a sigh, the anxious side carries his father figure to the couch, then gets blankets and pillows to surround him with.