𝑀𝑜𝓍𝒾𝑒𝓉𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓉𝓈 (𝒮𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒮𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓈)

The sound of his voice - Part two

A/N:

I know what you're thinking; big scary author's note (sorry) Which you're probs gonna skip anyway...

But...

I know I haven't updated any of my fanfics for a while... Ahem... a long while, and I'm sorry for that. The truth is, I haven't really been into the Sanders Sides fandom for a bit. I used to love it! But recently writing for it just seemed a like a chore or not as fun as it once was. I don't know if it's because it's no longer one of my intense special interests, or that I'm just not really in the Sanders Sides writing mood? I don't know. Plus, with all this crap going on, (you know what I'm talking about) my anxiety and things have been being big B-holes.

I'm slowly weening my way back into writing, so my updates and fics may be scarce. Sorry in advance.

But anyway, on with the chapter!

Warnings -

Bullying, Swearing, Protective Virgil, Bully Deceit, Deaf Patton, Crying, Background Logince

0000000000000000

Virgil's heart thudded against his chest like a key from an untuned piano. Maybe it was the adrenaline — or the fact his brother was an absolute ass-hole! He'd never understood why Janus constantly threw people into harmful situations. Did it make him feel powerful? Was that it? A sick kink — Finding pleasure from putting people down? Of course he had to have a sadist as a brother!

That poor kid had just been sitting minding his own business... until Janus came along. Virgil loved his brother, but he detested they way he treated people. That guy didn't deserve to get milk poured all over him. It tore him up inside to think he was actually related to the jerk who inflicted such a thing. Janus, on occasion, would claim to be overly protective of Virgil — but in this case, it didn't make any sense.

Virgil, blowing out a deep breath, shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, began following the small trail of milk droplets. There was sure to be gossip going around already. Most of the school had been in the cafeteria when it happened, and it wouldn't be long until the entire place new about it. It didn't help that the guy was new to school and already labelled a weirdo. Virgil didn't want to speculate on that theory, especially when he hadn't even made an effort to get to know him.

It was only right that he should be the one to help him. The niggling voice in his head told him that he was somehow responsible for the whole ordeal.

0000000000000000

What had he done wrong?

Had he been sitting in the wrong seat?

Did the boy think he was ignoring him?

Or was he simply just a target for bullies?

Patton sniffled quietly, pushing shut the toilet stall door before taking off his milk stained glasses. Tears beaded at the corners of his eyes as he steadied himself against the panel. Blood rushed to his cheeks, heating his face, shading it a deep red from embarrassment. The stench of lukewarm milk filled the air around him, which he inhaled with every whimpering breath.

How could he be so stupid?! He couldn't go to class like this. People would take one look at him and laugh at the fact he was dripping in milk. The cardigan around his shoulders was in need of a good wash, as well as his shirt.

He felt soggy, dirty, and completely humiliated. The knots in his stomach tightened, heart thrumming ten times faster than it should, the sweat collecting at his palms did nothing to help matters.

Patton lifted a shaky hand to collect the tears from his cheeks, choking back a few more sobs. He then carefully dragged the sopping wet fabric from his shoulders, placing it on the toilet seat. Stains on the lenses of his glasses, filtered with a blur of dried milk, refused to leave no matter how hard he scrubbed them with the hem of his shirt. Without them, he was twice as blind and still deaf. The sense of touch seemed to be his only hope if he wanted to leave.

0000000000000000

"Should we follow him?" Roman asked, peeking over to glance at Logan. The commotion in the cafeteria had somewhat settled down since Virgil left. Though, a layer of gossip about the boy who ran out crying his heart out still lingered in the air.

Logan adjusted his tie, straightening it like he always did when there was nothing better to do. "I don't think they'd like an audience gawping at them, especially with what has already happened." The intellect's brows tugged themselves into a frown. "Perhaps we should collect up their things instead?"

Roman nodded slowly, watching Logan as he steadily pushed himself up from his seat at the table. Moving his way around to the other size, Roman scooped up Virgil's text books and shoved them into his own bag. It saved him from awkwardly carrying them in the crook of his arm like an oddly shaped baby.

The two wandered over to where the new boy had been sitting, finding a milk soaked, kitten covered, backpack and half a soggy sandwich. Logan grimaced, nose scrunching in distaste.

"That is going to smell all kinds of yuck... The Remus kinda yuck." Roman shivered, his throat releasing a sound of disgust mixed with fear.

Logan rolled his eyes and began unzipping the rather soiled looking bag.

"We can't just go snooping into this guys things, Logan! Have you lost your -"

"Take a figurative chill pill, Roman." Logan shook his head, brow raised at the more eccentric male. "I'm not snooping, I'm gathering information," he explained plainly. "It's a school bag. There is bound to be a book with his name on and what class he is in, excreta."

"Oh, so we can dropped it off at his -"

"Precisely." Logan interrupted once again, now pulling out a rather wet looking text book. With a adjustment of his glasses, he inspected it.

Patton Picani

11th Grade

Tutor - Professor Sanders

"Picani? Where have I heard that name before?" He mused, lips pursed in thought.

Roman pondered for a second before giving a shift snap of his fingers. "Wait, isn't that the name of Virgil's therapist?" The bell for class filled the air just before Logan could even open his mouth to respond.