Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Janus Dolos woke at 5:30 a.m. from a strange dream. Groggy, he sat up in his loft bed and climbed down. Once his feet hit the floor, he stretched, trying to shake off the early hour. He got ready for the day, and just after 6 o’clock, a loud bang shattered the quiet. Without thinking, he rushed out the door toward the noise.

Around the same time, Virgil Vesperine was still asleep in the corner of his small, cluttered room, curled up in a twin bed. His apartment shook violently, jolting him awake. A second later, a sharp bang echoed from above. Panic set in. He snatched his hoodie and the backpack by the door, then bolted toward his roommate’s room.

Remy was fast asleep, looking like a log on the floor beside his bed, still in yesterday's clothes and still somehow had a whole satchel on. Before he could react, Virgil burst into the room and yanked him toward the window.

“Virgil! What the hell?! ” he shouted as they went flying out.

Virgil didn’t respond.  Instead, he used his abilities to cushion their fall, landing them safely (or at least less painfully) on the ground. They looked up just in time to see their apartment building starting to collapse, destroyed by an unknown figure wielding some terrifying power. Fortunately, someone with teleportation abilities had managed to evacuate the other residents. But Virgil and Remy didn’t stop to process it; they took off, chasing the one responsible.

As they regrouped, Janus finally caught up with them. Virgil was already engaged, fending off the masked figure, and Janus quickly jumped in to help. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Remy weaving through the chaos, appearing to assist the injured.

Virgil snapped his fingers, shadows bursting from his hands and snaking across the ground. Within seconds, a trap formed around their attacker, holding them, at least for now.

“Grumpy much? We haven’t talked in, what, a hot minute? ” Janus said, his tone light but edged. The shadows still crawled across Virgil’s fingers like ink in water.

Virgil shot him a sharp glare.
“Grumpy? Jay, my apartment just collapsed, and it’s barely sunrise. I think I’ve earned a little more than grumpy.. -dammit! ” he hissed, cursing as his grip on the attacker slipped. Janus froze. He hadn’t known about the apartment. For a moment, he said nothing, then silently turned back to help Virgil.

The person had slipped out of sight for less than a minute,  just long enough to find Remy, who was still pretending to help. “Oi, coffee boy,” Rowen said with a smirk. “You didn’t mention that was your apartment.” Remy froze, then turned sharply, fury flashing in his eyes. “You knew I lived there, Rowen. Don’t act like you didn’t. Now get out of here, before we both get caught!”

What they didn’t know was that Janus had been there the whole time, watching even while Virgil was ambushed by a group who had to be working with the one who destroyed their apartment.

The moment Rowen disappeared, Janus marched straight up to Remy. “Who the hell is Rowen?” he demanded, stepping closer, “and why did it sound like this was planned, just not for your apartment? ” As Janus got closer, Remy was silent, but internally, he was a mess. Janus was about to say something, but Remy had used his abilities to put him to sleep and fled to an unknown place. Remy had the ability to put anyone to sleep by just tapping them on the shoulder or anything like that.

Meanwhile, Virgil was struggling. He had already taken down two of the four attackers, but the fight was wearing him down fast. As he pushed himself to keep going, his mind raced ‘Where were Janus and Remy? Were they hurt? Did the attacker get away?’

Every possible and impossible thought flooded his head, but he forced himself to stay focused and fight through the exhaustion. No one truly knew what his abilities were, except for him and his parents. People only guessed either that he had more than one ability or that it was an exceptionally strong single-type.

Somehow, Virgil found the strength to take out the last two opponents. Gasping for breath, he didn’t hesitate; he went straight to look for Remy and Janus. While searching, he accidentally bumped into a group of three people around his age.

As Virgil looked up, brushing himself off, he offered multiple quick apologies, then paused. One of the people looked familiar. “So sorry about that! Wait, are you the guy who helped out at my place?” he asked, squinting at him. The other nodded with a warm smile. “ Yeah. I was staying over with a friend there. I saw you jump out of the window. Are you okay?” The two others exchanged confused glances. “Oh... yeah, I’m fine,” Virgil replied, though he sounded a little drained. “Name’s Vee. I used to live in that apartment, y’know, before it crumbled.” He tried to smile, but it came out more sad than anything.

The first guy winced sympathetically. “Well... uh, nice or, uh, good to meet you, kiddo. I’m Patton, and these two are my friends, Logan and Roman.” He glanced at his friends, clearly aware that this wasn’t exactly the ideal setting for introductions.

Virgil nodded, “ Nice to meet you three, but I really should be going. I have to find my friends. ”  He said, walking away, but was stopped by Patton, “ Wait! Do you need help? I think we saw where one of them went. ” He said, glancing at Roman. Virgil turned around. “ Really? What did they look like? ” He asked, walking back over, hoping they knew where his friends went. Roman spoke instead of Pat this time:

 “ He had chocolate brown hair, jet black sunnies, black leather jacket with a brown satchel on. ” 

Virgil frowned, trying to make sense of it. ‘ Why would Remy be in this area?’ he thought . The person they were chasing must’ve gone in a different direction, at least, that’s what he assumed. “ What exactly did it look like he was doing? ” he asked. Logan, who was calmly holding an open book, didn’t look up as he responded.

“From what I observed, he appeared to be walking with deliberate intent, not fleeing, not panicked. More like someone heading toward something… or someone,” He said, tightening his grip on the book’s spine. Virgil fell silent, unsettled. ‘Why would Remy just walk away in the middle of all this?’

“We could show you where we saw him go, if you'd like? ” Patton offered. Virgil nodded, and the three led him through the streets. Though instead of finding Remy, they stumbled onto something else entirely, someone unconscious, being dragged away by a masked figure with amber hair.

“Janus! Let him go! ” Virgil shouted, rushing forward,  but it was clear he was going to be too late.

Logan glanced down at his book one last time, then calmly closed it and began jotting notes into a separate notebook. The other two stood frozen as Virgil activated his ability. His eyes turned completely black, and shadowy veins began creeping across his skin like ink spreading through water. Tendrils of darkness, almost vine-like in form, erupted from the ground, living shadows that lashed out toward Janus and the masked figure.

But Logan had already guessed it: they were too late. The amber-haired figure used Janus’s ability suddenly, glowing yellow thread-like restraints lashed out from the ground and wrapped around Virgil’s ankles, holding him in place. Which almost caused him to trip…

Then, Janus and this mystery person vanished.

Virgil cursed aloud. His powers were still settling, the shadows still lingering in his eyes, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t chase.

The other three stood in stunned silence, trying to process what had just happened. It had all unfolded in a split second, too fast for any of them to react.

Patton slowly stepped forward and placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked gently. Virgil didn’t respond. He just slid down to the ground as best he could, collapsing under the weight of it all. He had pulled his hood up, looking towards to ground. He started to cry. Silent at first, then broken sobs. The marks began appearing again on his skin, but were only visible on his hands at the moment. 

This time, nothing came from them. No power. Just pain. He had lost his home. His best friend. His roommate. All in under an hour. And now, he was breaking down in front of three strangers he’d met only five minutes ago, on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.

Patton crouched beside Virgil while the other two approached cautiously. Logan, ever observant, quickly recognized the signs. Virgil was in the middle of a panic attack. Without a word, Logan leaned in and murmured something to Patton. He gave a small nod, then sat down fully beside Virgil, who was now curled up tightly, hood drawn low over his face.

His entire body trembled. His breathing was shallow, uneven, and his eyes, completely black. Staring blankly ahead, unblinking. He didn’t seem to register where he was or who was around him.

“Hey,” Patton said softly, “I know this is a lot. But I need you to breathe with me, okay?” Virgil didn’t respond, but Patton gently continued. “Try this, breathe in for four seconds… hold it for four … and breathe out for four . Just that. I’ll do it with  you.”

He started the pattern aloud, slowly counting to guide Virgil through each breath. They repeated it together… in, hold, out.. until the tightness in Virgil’s chest began to ease and the panic started to fade. Vee took one final, shaky breath and muttered a curse under his breath . “I’m sorry you had to see that…”  He said quietly, not meeting their eyes.

Reaching into the pocket of his hoodie, he pulled out a small knife,  the metal dulled from use, but still sharp. Holding it gently, he whispered something under his breath. As he spoke, the faint glow from a thin, nearly invisible thread wrapped on his ankles began to flicker… then fade. With a steady hand, he slid the blade through it.

The thread, whatever it had been, vanished.

Logan made one final note before slipping his small notebook into his pocket. Without fanfare, his larger book appeared back in his hands, as if it had never left. Roman stepped forward and offered a hand to both Virgil and Patton.

Helping them up, Roman noticed the dark pattern or marks were no longer visible on Virgil's hands. Once they were steady, Logan spoke, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever.

“As Patton mentioned earlier, is there anything we can assist you with? ” He adjusted his grip on the book, eyes flicking to Virgil. “I’m aware you’ve lost your apartment. We have a potential solution for that. If you’re interested.” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, a solution? You got a spare apartment  lying around or something?”

Patton practically bounced where he stood. “Oooh, yeah! What he means is we’ve got an extra room empty in our four-bedroom place just a few blocks from here! You could move in with us!”

Virgil blinked. He hadn’t expected that . He opened his mouth, then paused, processing. It was generous… a little too generous. But still, he had priorities.

“That’s... really great,” he said carefully. “But I’ve gotta pass. For now, anyway. I still need to find my roommate and my best friend. But thank you. Seriously.”

Patton's face fell a little, but he nodded, understanding. “Okay. If anything changes, the offer’s always open!” Roman silently pulled a small notepad from his coat and scribbled something down. He tore the paper free and handed it to Virgil, an address and a few phone numbers. “In case you change your mind,” Roman said simply, smiling, he noticed his eyes had gone back to an emerald green color.

Virgil took the piece of paper, glancing at it before tucking it into his pocket.
“Oh, uh… thanks. I’ll think about it. See you around, I guess,” he said, already turning to walk away. Though before he could take more than a few steps, Patton rushed forward and threw his arms around him from behind in a tight hug. “ Bye, kiddo! ” he chirped, voice bright and genuine. “I really hope we see you again, you seem like the kind of friend everyone needs.”

Virgil froze. He hadn't heard something that kind in... a long time.

He gave a small nod, his voice quieter this time. “Thanks. I hope so too.”

He didn’t meet their eyes, but the way his shoulders softened said enough. They knew he meant it. As he walked away, Roman crossed his arms with a dramatic sigh. “ Well, wasn’t that just a punch to the feelings. Now I have to pretend I’m not emotionally invested in a stranger. Thanks for that universe!”

Logan didn't look up from his book. He flipped a page. “Interesting. That’s your third emotional crisis this week, and it’s only Wednesday.” Patton just laughed, waving after Virgil until he disappeared from view.

Chapter Text

Virgil didn’t look back as he walked away. Only when he was sure the others were out of sight did he finally slow down. He ducked into an alleyway beside a quiet coffee shop and slumped down against the brick wall, legs pulled close to his chest. The hum of city life continued, but it all felt far away. Unreal. Like maybe, if he waited long enough, he'd wake up and this would all be some sick, heavy dream.

But it wasn’t.

He stared blankly at the pavement for a long moment before pulling his phone from his pocket with shaky hands. His fingers hovered over the screen before he finally tapped the name he needed. It rang. And rang…

And then: “Hello?”

Virgil tried to clear his throat. “Hey, Emile... two things. Can you come get me? And... have you seen Remy? In the past hour?” He tried to sound casual, like his voice hadn’t been cracking, like he hadn’t been crying. But it wasn’t really working. “Oh yes, of course I can come get you,” Emile replied warmly, then paused, his tone softening. “Are you okay?”

Virgil didn’t answer.

“…Okay, I’ll take that as a no. I haven’t seen Remy, sorry, but text me your location, yeah? I’m just grabbing my keys.”
Virgil nodded even though Emile couldn’t see it. “Yeah. Okay.” He ended the call and sent his location. The phone slipped back into his lap, and he stared down at it, unfocused. His shoulder throbbed with dull pain, but he didn’t care enough to look. He opened a random app, not really using it, just something to distract himself until Emile showed up.

Time passed in blurs.
Eventually, Emile parked nearby and went straight into the coffee shop. He looked around, hopeful, then approached the barista. The name badge said ‘Calyxen’

“Hi, Ca- Calyxen? So sorry if I said your name wrong. Have you seen someone come in? Little younger than me, kind of quiet, dark hoodie, green eyes, really dark brown hair?”
They shook their head. “No, sorry.” Not bothering to correct Emile on the name.

He thanked them and stepped back outside, scanning the sidewalk. Then he spotted him. In the alley, slouched and still, back against the wall like he was holding himself together with string. “Virgil…” Emile murmured and approached gently, crouching down in front of him. Virgil didn’t react. He just kept staring at his phone screen.
Emile softened his voice. “Hey there… You don’t look so great. Want to talk about it?” Virgil slowly locked his phone and slid it into his pocket. He didn’t say anything. Just gave a small shrug, eyes red, tired, and distant. Emile tilted his head. “Would you rather go to your place? Or mine?” 

That did it.

Virgil’s expression cracked, making his eyes go completely black just for a second. His eyes welled up again, and he turned his head away quickly, as if pretending it wasn’t happening would make it stop. A trembling breath escaped him.

“Hey, hey…” Emile said, his voice immediately soft. “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t know what happened, but… let’s get you somewhere safe, okay? My place’s not far.” Virgil just nodded, slowly, still avoiding his eyes. Emile stood, offering a hand. When Virgil hesitated, Emile didn’t rush him. Just waited, calm and open.
Eventually, Virgil took it.

Once they were both on their feet, Virgil suddenly threw his arms around Emile, who is slightly taller, clinging to him as the tears came again, harder this time.

“Oh, okay. Okay,” Emile said gently, wrapping his arms around him in return. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. I promise. You’re not alone.” Em said, rubbing circles on Vee’s back.
The hug caught Emile off guard. Virgil rarely showed this kind of emotion, not tears, and definitely not hugs. Something was seriously wrong.

They got into the car without much else said. Emile tapped a rhythm against the steering wheel in time with whatever soft indie song was playing on the radio. Virgil sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, his body tense. His hands wouldn’t stay still. Constantly twitching, shaking, or tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie. When they arrived at Emile’s place, he unlocked the door and led Virgil inside. The living room was, as always, unapologetically bright and cluttered with plushies, posters, and art supplies. They sank into a deep red couch, a soft kind of silence hanging between them.

Without a word, Emile handed Virgil a purple and white fidget cube from the coffee table. “Here, this might help.” Virgil nodded, taking it wordlessly and gripping it like it was the only thing tethering him to the room. Emile didn’t push.  Instead, he picked up a half-finished Steven Universe drawing and got back to work, giving Virgil time. He’d talk when he was ready.

After about five long minutes of silence, punctuated only by the soft scratch of pencil on paper. Virgil finally spoke.

“Our apartment is gone,” he said quietly. Not a whisper, but close. The kind of voice that sounded like it hurt to use. Emile’s pencil froze mid-line. He turned immediately, concern in his eyes.

“What? Gone, like... gone gone? As in destroyed? Virgil, are you okay?” He set the sketchbook aside and shifted closer, trying to read Virgil’s expression. But the other was still staring down at the fidget cube in his hands.

“Yep.” Virgil exhaled with a trembling voice, trying to stay steady. “It’s just... a giant pile of rubble now. Like a... failed art project or something. But hey! Remy and I got out in time, so... yay?” He added a strained smile and an awkward thumbs-up, but his eyes were glossy, and his tone was shaky, clearly on the edge. The half-laugh that followed cracked in the middle, brittle and dry. He wouldn’t look at the other, fingers twitching restlessly over the cube’s buttons.

Emile wanted to scream, but he kept his voice steady. “That’s... good to hear,” he said gently. “But you didn’t exactly answer the important part. Are you okay? I mean physically?”
Virgil blinked, like the question had taken a moment to register. Then the pain in his shoulder flared again, pulling his attention back to it. He winced and pointed to the spot with a half-hearted gesture.  “I think I fu—hurt my shoulder,” he muttered, correcting himself at the last second.

Emile leaned forward. “Can I take a look?” Virgil hesitated, then slowly pulled off his hoodie, wincing with the movement. He slid the collar of his shirt down just enough to reveal his shoulder.
Emile’s breath caught.

 “Oh..Virgil…” he whispered. His shoulder was already swelling, and a deep bruise was blooming beneath the skin, angry and dark like ink spilled in water.

“Virgil, what did you do?” He asked as Virgil was confused. Em put his hand on Virgil's shoulder to check it further. Virgil hissed through his teeth, his whole body tensing. ‘God dammit!’ he thought, ‘That feels like I was hit by a fist made of fire.’ He clenched his jaw, trying to keep still as the pain pulsed deep in his shoulder. Emile examined the bruising carefully. “It’s all swollen… I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s dislocated,” he muttered, concern etched in every word.

Virgil glanced down at the injury, brow furrowed as the memory clicked into place.
“I think it happened when Remy and I jumped out the window. I kinda... took the brunt of the fall.”
“That would definitely do it,” Emile said, already focusing as a gentle pink glow began to gather around his hands. “Lucky for you, I’m a walking med kit.”

Virgil managed a small smile as Emile’s healing magic began to ease the pain. “Yeah... I guess I am kinda glad you’ve got magic fingers.”
“You better be. That’s premium service,” Emile grinned, though his eyes were still soft with worry. Virgil let out a slow breath as the tension finally began to leave his body.

“Thanks, Emile… really.”

After Emile was done, Virgil put his hoodie back on. He pulled his hood up and curled up against the couch. Emile sat beside him, his expression soft and full of worry. The kind of look a concerned mom might give when her kid says they’re "fine" but clearly isn’t. They stayed like that for about ten minutes, the silence stretched, but safe.

Then Virgil whispered something too quietly to hear.
Emile leaned in. “Sorry, what was that? I didn’t quite catch that, bud.”
Virgil suddenly blurted out, the words tumbling over each other in one panicked breath:  “Everything went wrong the second I woke up in my apartment. I chased the person who caused it and lost them! I got jumped by four people-do not recommend, by the way. Janus was taken, and Remy just… left. I have no idea where he is!”

His voice cracked, raw with fear and exhaustion.
“Whoa, okay. Deep breaths,” Emile said calmly, placing a reassuring hand on Virgil’s back. “Let’s take this one step at a time. Remy will come back. And Janus? He’s strong. He can hold on until we find him.” Virgil gave a shaky nod, forcing himself to inhale.

‘In for four. Hold for four. Out for four.’
Just like Patton said, he reminded himself.

“I met someone today who reminded me a lot of you,” Virgil mumbled as he adjusted the fidget cube in his hand. Emile perked up, tilting his head. “Really? Like how?”
Virgil gave a faint, tired chuckle. “Just... the way he talked. The energy. You both kinda radiate this sunshiney cartoon sidekick thing. Felt like I was watching you in a parallel universe.”
Emile’s eyes lit up. “Awww, that’s so cool! I hope he was nice!”

“He was,” Virgil nodded, a little smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. “Well, I’m really glad you met someone like that,” Emile said, gently. “But right now, I think your brain needs a break, like, a full-screen nap episode.” He reached for a blanket from the side of the couch. “How about you rest here while I take care of something real quick?” Virgil didn’t argue. He just nodded and slowly lay back against the cushions. “Thanks, Emile,” he whispered, barely audible.
Emile tucked the blanket around him with quiet care. “Always, Vee. I got you.”

Em got up, leaving the room, heading to his bedroom, closing the door with a quiet ‘click’. He went and sat at his slightly messy white desk, taking out his phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Remy, hitting the call button. The call connected after a few rings. Remy answered like nothing had happened.

“Sup?”

Emile, already seated at his desk, set the phone on speaker and placed it beside his computer. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice tighter than usual, more serious.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why do you ask? I’m just hanging out with some friends,” Remy replied breezily. “You okay? Not going cray-cray on me, are you?”
The joke didn’t land. Emile’s face fell, his brows knitting together in confusion. He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached over and powered on his computer.

“…Hello, you-”

“What do you mean ‘hanging out with friends’?” Emile cut in, his tone sharper, more grounded. Not bubbly. Not cartoony. It made Remy pause.

“What?”

“Are you not at all worried about what happened today? Your apartment? Virgil?” Emile’s voice cracked slightly, not from weakness, but restrained frustration. “He was shaking, Remy. You were with him. You just left?” There was silence on the other end. A long one.

“…How did you know about that?” Remy finally asked, quieter now.
Emile’s eyes flicked across the screen in front of him, dozens of open tabs, news footage, social media clips, and reports about the building collapse.
“Virgil called me. I picked him up. He didn’t even know where to go. He was scared and in pain and still worried about you.” Another pause. Then a clipped response:

“Alright, look, I’m perfectly fine. I gotta go, buh-bye.”

The line went dead.

Emile stared at the phone, stunned. His fingers slowly curled into fists before he took a shaky breath and turned back to the screen. His tone of voice may have faded, but something else had taken its place…resolve. Without saying a word, he opened a new browser tab and began typing. This time, not to comfort. Not to talk.
He was writing an email. Investigating. Remy wasn’t acting like Remy, and Emile needed to know why.

As that happened, Patton and the two others had just finished eating lunch. “Do you think .. I forgot his name, but do you think the emo will move in with us?”  Roman asked as he was putting the dishes in the sink. Patton frowned. “Ro, be nice. His name’s Vee, you remembered earlier, what happened?” He gave a small pout before brightening just a bit. “Anyway, I really hope he’s okay. He seemed so kind…” Once Roman was done, the three of them sat on the couch in the living room area that was neatly kept. Patton put ‘Inside Out’ on their TV. It was one of his favourite movies. 

Halfway through the movie, Logan finally spoke, flipping through pages of the book resting in his lap. “Are neither of you concerned about the events earlier? With Vee and his companions, I mean.” Roman and Patton turned toward him, confused by the sudden shift.

“What are you talking about?” Patton asked softly. “Yeah, brainiac,” Roman chimed in, narrowing his eyes. “Did your dusty little spellbook reveal something ominous?” Patton nudged Roman, frowning. “Ro! Be nice.” Logan rolled his eyes. “Insulting my resources does not improve their clarity.”

He continued reading, eyes scanning the page quickly, frustration growing behind his furrowed brow. The book offered only vague insights, an anomaly, which annoyed him more than he let on. He was pulled from his concentration when Roman dramatically flopped sideways, nearly shoving him off the couch.
“Roman!” Patton gasped, catching Logan by the arm. “He could’ve fallen!” Logan snapped the book shut with a calm but pointed sigh, resting it neatly on his lap. The two stared at him, waiting. 

“It’s unsettling when you both stare at me in silence.”

Roman leaned forward, gesturing wildly. “Then talk! What cryptic nonsense is your magical encyclopedia whispering about the emo? Has he been cursed? Swapped with a clone? Summoned a vengeful spirit?!” Patton blinked. “That’s… oddly specific.”

Logan met Roman’s gaze, clearly unimpressed.

“The information is incomplete. ..That’s not typical, and I don’t like it.”

Roman gasped dramatically. “You, with your encyclopedia of a brain, don’t have the answers? What’s next, the sky falling?”

Logan blinked slowly. “You’ve used three overreactions and one theatrical gasp in less than a minute. Congratulations, Roman. You’ve set a new personal record.”

Roman gasped, offendedly. 

He grabbed the remote with a sigh. “Let’s finish the movie before you declare us all cursed by ancient spirits or something equally irrational.”

Chapter Text

Virgil flinched awake with a broken gasp, his heart pounding against his chest like it was trying to escape. His hands clutched the blanket as he looked around in confusion, blinking quickly. The room was unfamiliar.

He sat up slowly, still shaken. His skin felt too hot and too cold at the same time. His pulse buzzed in his ears. Where was he?

This wasn’t his room…

The sheets were different. The air smelled like herbs and something clean. There was a faint warm light from the cracked-open door. A few books were stacked on a nearby table. Something clicked into place; this was Emile’s room.

He hadn’t fallen asleep here. He was sure of it.

Had Emile moved him?

From down the hall, he could hear soft typing. A tired sigh was heard as well. Emile was still up, on his laptop in the living room, probably lost in research or work. The quiet tap of keys continued, steady and distant. Emile didn’t come to check.

Good.

Virgil’s hands were still trembling. His breath came unsteady, chest tight. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself as the nightmare lingered, shadowy and half-formed. Gold light. Falling. Fear.

A pulse of something dark shifted along the edge of the room. The shadows twitched unnaturally near the base of the bed, responding to his panic, curling inward before stilling again. He didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.

His body still remembered the dream even if his mind had blurred the details. He didn’t need to remember it all to feel how wrong it was.

He sat there, frozen and hunched under the blanket, eyes unfocused, listening to the tap of Emile’s keyboard. Everything felt distant. Untouchable. His breath caught again.

And there it was…barely noticeable, but still there.

An echo.

His jaw clenched. He closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his chest, hoping that would steady whatever was trying to claw out of him. He could still feel the way his shadowy marks appeared on him, without looking. How his shadow had curled too sharply against the sheets.

He didn’t want Emile to see.

Didn’t want anyone to.

So he sat there in the quiet, trembling in someone else’s room, while Emile worked a few feet away, just out of reach, and tried to convince himself that everything was fine .

Virgil stayed unmoving, for a long moment, the echo of his own breath loud in the stillness. The shadows around him seemed to pulse with the beat of his heart, restless and alive, like they wanted to stretch out, to move.

He swallowed hard, then finally forced himself to sit up straighter. The room felt smaller, tighter, suffocating under the weight of his own thoughts.

He couldn’t stay here, trapped in his head with the nightmare’s tail dragging behind him.

Carefully, he slipped out from under the blanket, keeping his movements slow, careful not to wake anyone. Even though it was only him and Emile. The shadows near his feet twitched, coiling softly before fading back into the corners of the room.

His socked feet touched the cold floor, and for a moment the darkness around him thickened,  a whisper of his power, responding to his unease.

He padded quietly down the hall, each step muted. The Shadows always did this, muted any sound he made. Even without his boots, he made no sound on the floorboards.

‘Where were his boots?’

The glow of Emile’s laptop screen spilled out from under the living room door. The tapping of keys was steady, almost hypnotic.

Virgil hesitated at the threshold, watching Emile’s hunched figure bathed in that blue light. The worry knotted in his chest, but his voice caught somewhere between his throat and the shadows lurking beneath the surface.

Virgil silently crept over and sat beside him, waiting to be noticed. But Emile didn’t flinch. Didn’t glance up.

After a moment, Virgil looked around for a clock. Nothing. So he tugged his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. It was scuffed at the edges, the screen was lightly cracked, and the back casing was held together with a sliver of old tape. Not ancient, just clearly dropped more than a few times.

The screen lit up: 1:56 AM . Battery at 5% .
‘Whoops. Should probably charge this,’ he thought, squinting at the dim glow before Virgil shifted a little on the couch, trying not to disturb the blanket draped over the backrest. Still, Emile didn’t seem to register his presence, lost in whatever rabbit hole his laptop had taken him down.

So, after a long moment, Virgil leaned over and gently poked his shoulder.

Emile jumped like he’d been hit with a jolt of static. “Jeez, Virge! You scared the living daylights out of me,” he gasped, almost dropping the laptop and setting it on the rainbow-colored coffee table in front of them. Virgil had flinched at Emile's reaction before taking a breath in hopes of calming his shadows.

“Sorry,” Virgil mumbled, shrinking back slightly. “I’ve been here for like... ten minutes. Didn’t know what to do.” Virgil noticed something, ‘The weird echo is gone?’ He thought. 

Emile blinked at him, still catching his breath. “Right. No, it’s okay! I just didn’t hear you come in. Forgot how quiet you are at night…” He rubbed a hand over his face, then glanced at the clock on the corner of his screen. “ Holy crap, it’s almost two? I didn’t mean to be up this late…”

Virgil gave a small nod, pulling his hood down and then adjusting it so its off. He didn’t quite believe that was the only reason Emile was up, but he didn’t say anything.

 “So I don't mean to rush, but I'm just curious. What do you plan on doing from here? ”  Emile asked, and Virgil looked away, thinking.  He went on to continue, but Virgil interrupted, “I’m not sure, everything went so wrong in less than a day.”

Emile nodded understanding, “Things can happen so fast, but we will figure something out. For now, you're welcome to stay here until you find a place if you want.” 

Virgil shook his head, “No, I can't do that to you, plus you only have one bedroom, ” he said as he had an idea. “I don't mind, and we can move a mattress in there so we both have a place to sleep,” Em suggested. Virgil pulled the piece of paper out of his pocket and looked at it, thinking. 

After what only felt like 3 minutes, Emile tapped him on the shoulder, saying, “Hello, Earth to Virgil? ” He snapped out of his thoughts, looking at Emile confused. “Hi again, you’ve been zoned out for like 10 minutes, you sure you're ok? ” 

Virgil nods, balling the piece of paper in his hand. He fidgeted with it. He kept unfolding it and balling it up.

“Yes, sorry uh-“  Virgil said, stuck. Emile waited patiently as he tried to think of what he was going to say. 

“How about I stay here for a week? ” He said, which made Emile wonder what he was thinking. “That doesn’t seem very long? ” Virgil was at a point where his anxiety was heightened to the point where words were not coming out. It was starting to frustrate him. He took a deep breath and took a moment for himself

“Well,” Emile said gently, “you’re getting anxious just thinking about what’s next… so I’m guessing you might have a place in mind? With new people?”

Virgil hesitated, then slowly held up three fingers. “Three people?” Emile echoed, brows raised. “Have you met them already?”

A small nod. Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, but this time, instead of pulling out his phone, he spoke quietly.

“I don’t know if I’m gonna move in. I just... want to get to know them better first.”

Emile smiled at that. “That’s fair. Sounds smart.”

“They seemed nice,” Virgil added after a beat, voice still low but steadier. “Like I said earlier, one of them was kind of like you. Just... blonder. And his eyes were more green-blue.”

Emile chuckled softly. “A sunshine twin, huh? I’d love to meet them. If you’re okay with that.” Virgil gave a small nod, one of the first that didn’t feel uncertain or forced. “Maybe..”

Vee got up, and it looked like he spotted something near the door. ‘What did he see? He looks upset, mad?’ Emile thought. 

“What are you doing?” Emile asked carefully, watching as Virgil grabbed his boots and headed toward the door.

Virgil didn’t answer right away. He just pointed toward the entrance, then let out a sharp sigh, frustrated, restless.

Emile stood, concern etched across his face.

“ Hey... I’m not trying to stop you. I just, it's almost three in the morning, and you’ve been through hell today. I don’t want you walking into more of it.”

Virgil paused with one hand on the doorknob, shoulders tense. “You don’t have to look after me.”

Then, louder: “I’m not a kid.”

His voice carried a strange undertone, like it had depth, or a faint echo chasing the syllables. It didn’t belong in a quiet apartment at night. Emile flinched, instinctively stepping back, startled by how unnatural it sounded.

“I know you’re not,” he said quickly, steadying his voice. “But that doesn’t mean you should be alone right now.”  Virgil pulled the door open without another word. He didn’t look back, but he left it ajar.

Emile hesitated only for a second… then followed. The cold morning air hit him in the face. ‘Definitely awake now-’  he thought.

Soon, they reached a place Emile didn’t recognize, a quiet clearing split by a tall white bridge. The bridge looked old, weathered by time but strangely untouched.

On one side, the trees opened up around a blanket laid neatly on the grass, deep purple in color, with a few small boxes stacked beside it.
The other side told a different story: broken stone walls, collapsed beams, and remnants of a structure long destroyed. Whatever had stood there had clearly fallen.

They had just walked past it, careful not to trip on the debris.

“Unwelcome to where I hide out when I can , ” Virgil muttered, stepping onto the old bridge. “Haven’t been here in... two weeks.”

His voice still carried that strange echo, low, warped at the edges, like it was layered with something not entirely human. It made Emile’s shoulders tense again, though he said nothing.

They both sat at the edge, letting their legs dangle over the water. The city lights glimmered in the river below, broken into ripples. Peaceful, in contrast to the whirlwind of emotion hanging around Virgil like smoke.

Emile stole a glance at him. The younger couldn’t sit still, his feet swung steadily, and his fingers tapped a jittery rhythm on the edge of the bridge.

“You know your voice has an echo, right?” Emile asked gently.

Virgil turned his head, frowning. His anxiety spiked again, and Emile could almost feel it roll off him. “Kind of? I guess?”

When he met Emile’s eyes, they were completely black once more, but there was a faint purple glow in the middle of them, especially on his left eye. Like backlit amethyst.

“I noticed,” Emile said, keeping his tone calm. “Not gonna lie, it’s a little creepy, but also kinda cool.” He decided not to bring up his eyes, not wanting to cause more anxiety. 

Virgil gave a small, uncertain shrug, eyes shifting to the trees ahead.

They sat on the edge of the bridge for a while, legs swinging over the river, the morning quiet around them. He hadn’t spoken for a while. 

“He wasn’t a wake .”

Emile turned to him. Virgil’s voice was low, shaking under the echo.

“ Janus. He was unconscious. They dragged him off like dead weight.”

His fingers curled tightly into his palms. “I tried to stop them. I used everything I had.   Shadows, binding, whatever’s happening to me now . And it still wasn’t enough."

The shadows, everything was darker for a moment. Virgil’s hands were shaking. Emile didn’t speak.

“They used his power against me ,”  Virgil said, barely more than a whisper. “And then they were just... gone.”

The silence stretched. The only sound was the wind pushing gently through the trees.

Then Emile pulled something from his pocket, quietly.
He offered the rainbow fidget spinner. “Here. You’re shaking.”

Virgil took it slowly, spinning it between his fingers, watching the colors blur. But the tension in his jaw didn’t ease.

And for a moment, the early morning got a little quieter.

After a while of tense silence, Virgil was calmer, not completely, though. “ Do you think they would be awake? ” he asked with his voice back to normal.

Emile was confused by the question. “Who? ” he asked, yawning.

“Oh, sorry, the new people I met today. ” Emile checked his phone, seeing that it was now almost 4 in the morning. 

“No, but maybe soon it's 4 a.m. ” He said as they both got down off the bridge's edge. They both walked over to the side that had the blanket on it. Emile sat down while Virgil paced around the area holding his phone. That was barely on 2% 

“Do you want to call them? Do you even know their names? ” he asked, watching Virgil, who nodded at the last part.  “Yeah, I got their names, but I was thinking of texting them, not calling. I am not prepared for a call right now.” Emile nodded understanding. Soon, Virgil was able to sit down beside him on the blanket. He took out the piece of paper again, showing Emile.

“Who should I text?  If I get the courage to. ” He looked at the names and numbers, thinking. The writing was in a pretty cursive style. 

Each name sounded like it had a unique personality. Roman, Patton, and Logan. The last one sounded like the right person to text at this time and wouldn’t care, hopefully.

“Ok, to me, Logan sounds like the right person to text. ”

Emile nodded, yawning once more. “I think any one of them would be ok to text. Though Logan does sound like he'd be the only one up at this hour.” Em said, looking up at the sunrise. 

Meanwhile, Logan was already awake.

He sat at his desk looking out at the slow sunrise, the kind of quiet he preferred, undisturbed, unhurried. The magical Book lay open before him, its faintly glowing ink breathing with latent energy. It responded only to him.

He went through the events from yesterday, adjusting a few symbols in the margins. The golden energy signature still lingered on the page, elegant, threadlike, unfamiliar. And there was that other signature too: jagged, unstable, full of shadow. Vee’s.

The figure they'd tried to save was still unidentified. Older than the Vee, he assumed. Mid-twenties, maybe. Clearly powerful, even unconscious, the energy around him had crackled.

Logan tapped the page thoughtfully, until…

His phone buzzed.

He checked the screen.
His sister

That was never a good sign.

He opened the message without expectation.

JJ: [ I need a favor. Don’t ask questions. It’s about the thing you will see. ]

He narrowed his eyes.

No name. No details. Just enough to know she meant that moment,  the flash of gold, the figure being dragged away, Vee screaming, too late.

Another message followed.

JJ: [ One hour. Same place. Come alone. Bring the Book.]

Logan didn’t reply. She wouldn’t answer anyway.

He turned back to the Book and placed a hand lightly on the page. The ink stirred beneath his palm and began to reshape again, forming the memory: the unconscious man with gold threading faintly around his limbs, the masked figure, the retreat.

And Vee, eyes dark, powers uncontrolled, screaming like the world was ending.

But none of them had caught a name. Not the masked figure. Not the unconscious one. Not even Vee’s real one.

He removed his hand, letting the page still. Then flipped to a fresh sheet in his notebook and wrote:

• Unidentified Subject – Gold Energy
  
  
• Current Status: Taken
  
  
• Jane → Contact initiated. Intent unclear.
  
  
• Vee: Attempted rescue. Emotional outburst. Shadow signature unstable.
  
  

He underlined the unclear once.

Then he stood, closing his Book and picked it up. The quiet was still holding. But now it felt like it was watching.