#barely even acknowledgable as blood but i wanna be sage | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thetomorrowshow · 4 years

Text

Mutually Beneficial Ch. xvi

First - Previous - Next

Recommended listening: Faouzia - Bad Dreams

Tw: Brief mention of blood, detailed panic attack

“Remus! Remus?”

On a normal day, Deceit rather enjoyed the Imagination. It was calming, certain parts of it susceptible to his sculpting. In the past, he'd spent hours at a time, cultivating his pet project—a flower garden. Drooping daffodils, wilting irises, withered tulips. He'd tried everything—more shade, less shade, fertilizer, regulated water. Nothing he did kept the flowers alive, but he never abandoned it.

Now, however, he walked briskly past it. He wasn't here for a relaxing session of digging up the weeds that seemed to pop out of nowhere. He was on a mission.

“Remus!” he called. Nothing. Birds twittered, cicadas buzzed, the quiet rumble of a dragon sounded nearby—an almost sure sign that Roman was somewhere near. Deceit chose not to track Roman down to ask him about the whereabouts of his brother.

The choice was rejected by some deity, though, as a figure in white burst from the forest Deceit was about to venture into. Roman appeared to be running for his life, but stopped short when he saw Deceit. His still-bruised face paled a shade,, and he looked like he was about to turn around, when he seized with pain and fell to his knees.

Deceit really didn't want to help—was loathe to even approach—but continued forward on the dirt path until he stood by the prince's side, and looked down at him.

One hand was on the ground, the other clutched to his side as little gasps hissed through clenched teeth. His hair was plastered to his forehead, drops of sweat rolling down his cheeks. Deceit wasn't sure how to help. He was certain that anything he could offer, Roman wouldn't want. Eventually, he settled for something neutral.

“Have you seen Remus?”

Roman fell further, flat out on the ground, then rolled onto his back. He seemed to have not heard, not even acknowledging the question, instead undoing the clasp at the top of his uniform, then yanking it over his head. Crisp white bandages were wrapped around his torso, bright red pinpricks blooming in places on his chest.

“Mother Gothel,” Roman gasped. “Logan will kill me.”

Deceit sighed. Already knowing the response, he asked, “Can I be of any help?”

“No—no, no,” Roman said, a little too quickly. “I just—I'm fine.”

That was a lie, Deceit noted wryly. Roman looked like he was about to pass out. The gaunt shadows under his eyes told tales of sleepless nights, stark against his pasty face. His eyes were bone-weary and fearful, peeking out from under heavy eyelids. He seemed barely able to stand, let alone get himself home.

Despite the answer in the negative, Deceit crouched down, unsure as to what to do, but hoping a hand on Roman's shoulder would help ground him. However, the opposite appeared to be true.

Almost as soon as he touched him, Roman went from slowly gaining his breath to utterly hysterical. His breathing came faster, cries sounding like they came from a wounded animal tore from his throat. He writhed for a moment, then as Deceit removed his hand, Roman's muscles all locked and he began to shake uncontrollably.

“Roman?”

A sob wracked the prince's body. Deceit could see how tight Roman's jaw was clenched, skin stretched taut over his cheekbones. His eyes were blank, clouded over, staring into nothing. Deceit didn't know what to do. His mind raced as he tried to understand what was happening.

“Roman, can you hear me?”

“Y-yes,” came the whispered reply. “I—gosh, I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die—”

“Roman?”

“M—my sword,” Roman managed, his teeth clacking against each other. Deceit spotted the hilt, the blade hidden by the sheath at Roman's hip. He knelt beside him, took his wrist to guide it to the sword. Roman choked at the touch, but Deceit moved quickly, leaving Roman's hand wrapped around the hilt.

He peeked around the corner, hearing something from the other side. Curled up against the wall, knees pulled to his chest, was Anxiety, in all his dark glory. Tears dripped from unseeing eyes, ragged gasps came from his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked timidly.

No response. Anxiety didn't even seem to hear him. Slowly, Deceit backed away, resolving to never mention it again.

Deceit blinked the memory away. He'd realized, not long after that incident, that Virgil had been suffering from a panic attack. He could now draw the parallels between that moment and this one. Roman, while displaying some different symptoms, was clearly in the same boat.

He really had no clue as to how to calm down Roman, especially since his touch appeared to have set off the attack. Roman had earlier seemed to not want Logan to be aware of his plight, the only Side who would actually know what to do in this situation. With no other option, he decided to wait it out.

Of course, he could continue looking for Remus—in fact, he should, who knew what condition Patton was in—but was loathe to leave Roman's side. He had nothing against the prince. It wouldn't do to be hated even more, so an act of kindness was in line.

Eventually, Roman sounded like he was gaining control of his breathing. Deceit looked over from where he'd been drawing in the dirt (a prim house, smoke curling from the chimney) and saw that Roman's eyes were more clear, though his knuckles were still white around the hilt of his sword.

“So,” spoke Deceit, trying to act as if nothing had happened. “How was the dragon?”

“M-manticore, actually.”

Deceit nodded sagely. “Of course. How silly of me.”

Roman struggled to sit up. The pinpricks of red on his torso expanded.

“Maybe you shouldn't do that.”

The prince froze; his eyes flashed with fear. “Don't—!”

“Don't what?” His mind filled in the blank, though. Don't hurt me. Something deep down stirred. The words were achingly familiar. Deceit fidgeted. He didn't have time to deal with Roman's feelings. He needed to get to Patton before Remus did who knows what to him.

“Roman.”

Roman flinched, then met his eyes.

“I'll leave, just say the word. But know this.” Deceit stood, dusted his gloved hands off. “This isn't about you. It is a matter between Virgil and myself.”

Roman looked away. Deceit almost left—he was practically bouncing, needing to find Remus—when Roman whispered words weighted with despair.

“Then why did you break me?”

It almost physically hurt, twisting a knife in his heart and waking an old instinct, making him want to tell Roman over and over that they would get through this together, that it would be okay. Deceit pushed the words back down his throat.

“You got in the way.”

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships @stop-it-anxiety @kai-the-person @shitpost-sides @bl00scl00s @charakitcat @ainsleyf @sandersstuffsblog @ginnyfox617 @enragedbees @minty4green @eggy-boyo @escalatingtoofast @hayden-going-insane @piixelations @supersoftsupersleep @crowsmadreadful @hpdmmdundtl @imnotjustanxiety @thenewlarislynn @mooniecoockie @emilybaker607

79 notes · View notes