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It happens when Virgil is lying halfway upside down off the couch, watching Mulan with Roman. Roman rears back against the arm chair, as if struck.
Virgil frowns to himself. It could be nothing.
On the other hand, he also remembers that awful day after the wedding when he found Roman battered and bleeding in his room, his role as the Ego causing him to take hits both for Thomas and himself.
“Hey, Sir Sing a Lot. You good, fam?” Virgil asks, keeping his voice causal. Roman doesn’t always like overbearing worry— despite the fact that he most definitely needs it.
“Tip top,” Roman says, an unusually short phrase for the usually effusive Side.
Yeah, not a good sign. Virgil rolls backward off of the couch, sitting upright. “Princey. Talk to me,” he says, voice gentle.
Roman’s smile never reaches his eyes. “I’m fine, Emo Nightmare.” He smiles unconvincingly at Virgil. This is all belied by him flinching back a second time, the wind knocked out of him.
“You wanna keep lying, and summon Jan?” Virgil asks, raising an eyebrow. It’s not as much of a threat as it once might have been. Janus’s role of self preservation has caused him to grow far closer to Roman than almost any other Side.
Roman lowers his gaze. “I can handle it,” he says. Right before his eyes, a bruise blooms on the side of Roman’s neck.
“Can doesn’t mean that you have to,” Virgil shoots back. “You can talk to me, or you can talk to Janus.”
“Thomas is reading the comments,” Roman says with a small sigh. “They’re not… the kindest.”
“Is he on YouTube? Those comments are usually pretty balanced.”
Roman grimaces. “No. He’s on tumblr”.
Virgil matches Roman’s grimace. “That’s not great.” Roman shrugs, but doesn’t reply.
Backup may not be amiss. <I absolutely do not want Janus to show up in the living room right now,> Virgil thinks as loudly as he can.
Right on time, Janus pops up in the living room. “I thought I told you I would be busy tonight,” Janus snipes. He’s wearing silken black pajamas with his snake logo patterned along the fabric, typical bowler hat nowhere to be seen.
“Yes, yes, your bubble bath and wine nights are sacred, we know,” Virgil grumbles. “Thomas is wallowing in hate comments again.”
Janus eyes Roman, taking in the fresh bruise on his jaw. His whole demeanor changes; his body softens, and the prickly exterior fades away. “So I can see,” Janus says, kneeling down in front of Roman. “Talk to me, my prince.”
Roman flinches. This one doesn’t seem to have to do with a new bruise— Virgil is watching closely for the telltale sign that the Prince has been injured again.
<One day, this will end. They’ll stop being soft. They’ll stop caring,> Roman’s tiny, scared voice whispers in Virgil’s head.
Virgil lets out a sharp hiss. “Never, Princey,” he promises.
“My apologies, Virgil, I seem to be…” but Roman’s attempt at deflection is cut off by another grunt of pain.
Virgil climbs up onto the armchair Roman is sitting on, perching on the armrest. “Hey. Princey. Look at me,” Virgil says. Far slower than he would have liked, Roman turns his head. “I know we weren’t there for you in the past. But that was then. We’re trying now. We want to help. We’ll always want to help. Let us.”
“It’s rotten work,” Roman murmurs.
“Not to me. Not if it’s you,” Virgil and Janus chorus together immediately. A small smile slips onto Roman’s lips.
Clear as day, a new fear ghosts across Virgil’s brain. <If I never post anything again, everyone will hate me. They already do.> Virgil’s frown deepens— his host is starting to spiral.
“Find Logan,” Virgil orders Janus. “We need to stop this spiral.”
“You find him,” Janus says, taking hold of Roman’s hand. “My job is here.”
“I noticed first, I get first dibs at the Princey Protection Squad,” Virgil says, flicking Janus off playfully. He definitely does not miss the way Roman’s smile warms— not a million-megawatt smile, not yet— but it is warm.
Roman enjoys a little bit of fussing.
Janus huffs. “If you insist,” he grumbles. He gently caresses Roman’s unburied cheek as he rises. “I will return.”
Virgil doesn’t wait to watch Janus leave. “C’mere, Princey,” he says, holding his arms out to Roman. “Come get comfortable.”
Roman shifts nervously. “I don’t think… it’s too soon,” he murmurs.
“What do you need, Roman?” Virgil asks gently. Sometimes, Roman craves physical affection as his body takes a pummeling. Other times, he can barely stand to be touched.
The long pause makes Virgil awfully nervous, but he waits. “Talk to me?” Roman asks finally. “Distraction?”
“You bet,” Virgil agrees immediately. “Did I ever tell you about the greatest April Fools Day prank I ever managed to pull on Remus?”
“You managed to trick him?” Roman asks, immediately interested.
“I’ve gotten a few over him, but this was the greatest. You know how he loves eating that wretched deodorant? One year, I got some bar soap, and melted it to the right consistency. I even snagged an old bottle of his favorite to get the stench just right.”
“Oh no,” Roman says, a tone of wonder in his voice.
“Oh, yes. I waited until you had him distracted off in the Imagination to strike. Then I planted a few of the doctored deodorants in different places around our side of the Mindscape.”
Roman’s eyes widen. “How long did it last?”
“Weeks,” Virgil says smugly. “I was careful not to hit every single container. Of course, he retaliated by trapping my favorite headphones in slime… but it was absolutely worth it.”
Roman flinches— then his posture relaxes. “He stopped,” Roman murmurs.
“Score one for the nerd,” Virgil agrees. “We can always count on our favorite Calculator Watch to redirect the oncoming train.”
A sharp tugging makes itself known in Virgil’s gut. “You being summoned too?” he asks Roman.
“Mmh.”
Virgil and Roman sink into the real world together. Logan and Janus are frowning over their host, both looking deeply unimpressed. “I was looking for motivation on tumblr, and fell into the ‘Thomas Sanders Critical hashtag’, sorry,” Thomas says, looking sheepish.
“Perhaps we should consider an alternative activity, that allows for a more productive use of your mental space?” Logan suggests pointedly.
“I’m gonna try that new jigsaw puzzle Joan gave me, while listening to a podcast,” Thomas agrees. “You guys can join, if you want.”
Virgil studies Roman carefully. “You up for being around us all?” he murmurs.
Roman bites his lip, kneading the flesh between his teeth and his tongue. “As long as I don’t have to do anything,” he murmurs back.
“Careful cuddle pile? We can grab some ice packs, too.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Roman agrees.
“It’s gentle Cuddle Roman Hours,” Virgil announces. “We’ll hang out here, and take turns.”
“Dibsss,” Janus hisses immediately.
“I already called dibs, Two Face.”
“A Prince has two hands,” Roman says quietly. “I can probably handle one on each side.”
“One on each Side? Like Sanders Sides?” Patton asks, popping up in his spot with a small mountain of ice packs in one hand, and a bag of popcorn in the other.
“Like Sanders Sides,” Roman agrees. “Right you are, Pop Star.”
Virgil fusses around Roman, taking ice packs from Patton and getting the Prince settled against Janus’s waiting arms. Patton immediately pops back out of reality— presumably to get more snacks. Logan turns to help spread the puzzle out on the living room table, and Thomas sits on the floor, opening his phone to select a podcast.
They’re not perfect, not even close. But they’re better than they were before. And things can only get better from here.
***