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Virgil liked spiders. He liked the cute, tiny ones, the ones so small that you couldn’t even feel it when they scuttled over your hands, so you have to track them with your eyes to make sure they don’t go down your sleeve. He liked the big ones, whose legs always left little prickles across your skin at every footstep. He liked the ones with freakishly long legs, despite the thrill of fear they could cause in the back of his mind.
Ever since the other sides had learnt of his affinity for spiders, Virgil had been in charge of disposing of any spiders found in Thomas’ apartment or the Mind Palace. Usually, he’d hear a strained call of “Virgil” or, if he had his headphones on, there’d be a shaky tug on his gut that alerted him of a summons. There was always a certain fearful quality to the summons, so he could tell exactly what he was needed for. Then Virgil would sink in, carefully coax the little trouble makers onto his hands hand let them outside.
Sometimes, he’d just sit there with them for a bit before putting them into the grass, letting them run over his hands. Every time they got to the edge of one palm, he would move his other hand to the front, providing them with an endless platform to scurry over. Virgil would gaze at them intently as they moved – there was something so calming about watching such a miniscule creature going about its business.
Then he’d go back inside, and receive thanks from whoever had been the unfortunate person to spot the spider, which Virgil would brush off because really, why should he be thanked for doing something he enjoys? They always ignored his protests, however, and insisted on expressing their gratitude in their own ways.
Thomas would smile and say, “thanks, Virge! What would I do without you?” It always left Virgil with a smile on his face because nothing felt better than being of use to their Centre, and feeling so needed always managed to chase away any insecurities he might have.
Roman would call him ‘a knight in shining armour’ and showing him with praise until Virgil was very flustered and – not that he would admit it – definitely blushing under his white foundation.
Logan was often quite clipped in his response and wouldn’t meet Virgil’s eyes, most likely embarrassed that he had been caught having feelings. Despite this, he would always make sure to say something along the lines of ‘much obliged, Virgil’, to make sure that Virgil knew how much he appreciated the help.
Usually, Janus would make scathing remarks, trying in vain to regain his mask of composure, but the unspoken gratitude could be heard through the sarcasm. Really, he may pretend to be a super intimidating evil villain, but Virgil knew that Janus was a softie at heart.
Remus never really seemed bothered by spiders (he might be the only other one of the sides who wasn’t), but he would always call Virgil to dispose of them anyway. Privately, Virgil suspected Remus was afraid that his intrusive thoughts might compel him to hurt the tiny creatures. No matter how often he may talk of it, Remus didn’t want to cause any real harm. Typically, Remus’ way of thanking Virgil simply consisted of various spider-themed nicknames, which sometimes got so ridiculous that they made anyone who heard them snicker.
If it had been Patton, he’d give Virgil a wide eyed stare as he waited patiently for him to wash his hands, keeping a bit of distance between them. Patton had always been the most bothered by spiders, they could put him on edge even once they were out of the room – he had an irrational fear that they may still be somewhere nearby, or even on Virgil’s clothes, because they could scuttle around so quickly and without being noticed. And if washing his hands could help in that regard, then Virgil would do so without complaint. Sometimes he would even take off his hoodie, although Patton usually said that wasn’t necessary. Once that task was done, however, Virgil would find himself with an armful of trembling Patton. He always made sure to hug the paternal side extra tightly in those times.
***
The thing that they didn’t know, however, was that Virgil didn’t just like spiders. Virgil was a spider. To an extent, at least. Each of the sides had an associated animal, although not all of them chose to let those traits be visible. Despite this, none of them knew which animal Virgil embodied specifically – none of them had asked, whether out of politeness or indifference, he didn’t know. Virgil was reasonably sure that Patton and Roman assumed that he was a cat, due to his tendency to sprawl across the couch and curl up in patches of sunlight. And, of course, the hissing. And once Remus made a joke that Virgil must be an angler fish, because he likes to lurk in the dark with nothing but his phone to illuminate his surroundings.
Virgil just let them speculate as they wished to. How was he supposed to tell them the truth, when he saw how terrified uncomfortable spiders made them? He didn’t like to be keeping such a huge secret, it felt wrong. But Virgil couldn’t bear to see that fear directed towards him. If the other sides knew – if Thomas knew – they wouldn’t want him near them. They wouldn’t want to talk to him, or look at him, or touch him. There would be no more baking with Patton and getting more flour on the counter than in the actual bowl; or debates with Logan about nearly every topic under the sun, and even those that aren’t (although once it gets to astronomy, it tends to become more of a very engaging lecture from the logical side than a debate); or running off after the twins to keep them safe on their wild adventures that he claimed to hate but secretly loved; there would be no more stretches of time spent silently existing in the same space as Janus, where there was no expectations and no need for masks to hide behind.
If the others knew about Virgil’s horrific spider traits, he’d be alone. His acceptance would be revoked, and he would be by himself. He would go back to the dark, to the shadows, where he’s repressed and abandoned and so terribly alone. And this time, he wouldn’t even have Remus or Janus to rely on, because he had already pushed them away and now, they despised his existence. There was no possible reason for them to do anything like going out of their way to help Virgil, of all people. He certainly didn’t deserve it. Virgil wouldn’t have them to help him during his bad days, or to support him and make him feel loved even after being rejected by everyone else.
Thomas wouldn’t listen to him, because how could a spider possibly want to help him at all, let alone protect him! And then, without Virgil to protect him, Thomas would be in danger. So, Virgil would have to turn back to that scary persona of Anxiety he used to put on, because it would be the only way to get through to the others.
If Virgil let anyone know about his spider traits, he would be the bad guy again. The villain. The thought made a sob tear its way out of his throat. Virgil was so tired of being the villain. He didn’t even like to think about all the time he had been spent being shunned and chased away, when he would leave himself open to attack in order to keep Thomas safe, and get only insults for his efforts. Realistically, Virgil knew that having spider traits at all made him the villain, regardless of whether or not anyone else knew. But he couldn’t allow the others to know regardless, because then they would know that he’s the villain, that they had been right all along and had made a mistake by befriending him.
Virgil had gotten one glimmering glimpse at what it would be like to have a family, to truly fit in. And to lose that friendship now would undoubtedly leave him broken forever.
So Virgil kept his spider traits hidden. It didn’t take too much energy or concentration to banish them from existence, so he kept it up as much as possible. After all, it would be all too easy for someone to walk in while he had them out. The less they were out, the better chance he had at keeping this secret for just a little longer. Even if it meant that the guilt festered in his stomach.
How manipulative was he, to take their affection and hold it so close, knowing that he only received it through lies and trickery? And what a hypocrite, claiming to hate Janus for nothing other than doing his job as Deceit, and then turn around to deceive others himself; to call Remus all kinds of things (worthless, disgusting, evil) for creating monsters, when the only real monster was Virgil himself. It was a wonder that Janus hadn’t already snapped and spilled his secret, with how cruel Virgil was.
Trouble was, that Virgil couldn’t always keep that control over his appearance. During times when he or Thomas were experiencing heightened anxiety, his focus would slip and they would pop out suddenly. Four massive, hairy spider legs would burst from his back and three smaller pairs of solid black eyes would blink open beneath the usual pair.
And just to make matters worse, Virgil might have liked spiders – loved them, even – but Thomas certainly didn’t. And Virgil was the sum of all Thomas’ fears. So no matter how much he tried, when Thomas was feeling especially anxious, he could never quite block out the terror he felt at the creepy crawly death dealers.
Which is how he wound up here, at three in the morning, with his legs spread out behind him and twitching as he shook.
He felt sick. He was scared, so scared, like he was paralysed with terror. Really, it shouldn’t have gotten this bad, Thomas wasn’t even all that anxious at the moment, it was only a bit of nervous anticipation for the next day of filming. But then he had lost concentration for just long enough that his spider traits could break free and then Thomas’ phobia had filled his mind. And with the fear that was currently coursing through him, Virgil couldn’t still his thoughts for long enough to force them away again. He could barely think beyond the need to keep the limbs as far away from him as possible. He couldn’t help but remember that they were attached to him, there was no way to escape them–
Slowly, behind the panic fogging up his thoughts, came the realisation that he needed to leave his room. While the room didn’t exactly affect Virgil in the same way as it did the others, constantly breathing air that smelt like fear and sitting around in shadows cast by dread could get overwhelming. So, shakily, he stood up and made his way to the door (he couldn’t trust himself to sink out without something going wrong at the moment).
There was a moment of hesitation before he exited – he was all too aware of the weight of extra limbs on his back, and the images of the room that he was receiving from eight eyes instead of two. If Virgil were to go into a communal area, someone could easily spot him, that was highly unlikely to happen if he stayed in his room. But he shook off that worry. It was the middle of the night, they would be no reason for anyone to be awake. And the change of scenery would do him some good.
So Virgil carefully crept down the stairs and into the Mind Palace’s living room, doing his best to make as little noise as possible. He strained his ears for any sign of movement nearby, but other than the sounds of gentle snores, all was silent. Even Remus was out cold. There was no need for Virgil to turn on the light at least, with his spider traits he could use his heightened senses to feel his way around. At least they’re useful for something, he thought bitterly.
After what seemed like hours of tensely skulking around, Virgil made it to the couch. He heaved a sigh before slumping down onto it, only to flinch when he felt a hairy spider limb bump against his back. The relief was short-lived, as he was reminded for his reason to be here in the first place. In his focus on not being heard, Virgil had almost managed to forget, but now the terror slammed back into him full force.
Virgil closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the world. Shakily, he raised his spider limbs into the air and away from his body. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could ignore them until they went away of their own accord. Something in the back of his mind that sounded infuriatingly like Logan pointed out that this wouldn’t work, the spider traits wouldn’t leave unless he made them. But Virgil was terrified and sleep deprived and his capacity for logical thought had been worn out, so the voice was easily overlooked.
Virgil didn’t know how long he sat there in the dark, all eight eyes screwed shut and his spider legs extended out from his back in a display that may have appeared threatening to anyone else if he hadn’t been so clearly petrified of them himself. Like this, with his legs far away from him so that he couldn’t feel them, and his eyes closed against the extra viewpoints that he was unwillingly receiving, Virgil could almost forget about the spider traits entirely. Just for a moment, he got a breath of reprieve. But if he stopped thinking about it for too long, gravity would slowly drag the limbs back downwards, and he would flinch and whimper at the brush of the course hairs against him, and be reminded of their presence. Any moderate calm he had managed to gain would be lost instantly. But stubbornly, he would raise his legs back into the air and the cycle would begin again.
He was so lost in his head that he didn’t hear the gentle thuds coming down the stairs, very uncharacteristic for the anxious side. He didn’t hear them pause at the bottom. He didn’t notice the lights flicking on with a snap of fingers. He didn’t notice the sharp intake of breath once the room had flooded with light.
It was only the soft, questioning call of his name, that alerted him to the fact that there was someone else in the room.
“Virgil?”
Two eyes flew open and somehow, his pulse shot up even higher at the sight of Patton standing in front of him. But that was okay, it was just Patton. Virgil hadn’t heard him come in and he was already a little wound up, so it had startled him. That was okay. It was just Patton.
Patton who was dressed in his favourite cat onesie, a stuffed bear under his arms and tear tracks down his cheeks. What was Patton doing up at this time? Something must be upsetting him. Patton who was staring at Virgil with wide eyes and who hadn’t come a step closer, even though he always wanted cuddles, especially when he wasn’t feeling great. Why was Patton looking at him like that?
Then Virgil felt something furry graze against his neck and he shrieked, jumping a mile in the air. The rest of his eyes shot open, and Patton visibly tensed at the sight of them.
No. No. Patton was here, now, and Virgil had his spider traits out.
It was too soon. Virgil wasn’t ready to lose his family yet.
But he had no choice. He had seen the disgust and shock on Patton’s face. It wouldn’t be long until everyone knew and then he would be alone.
Virgil’s breaths were coming faster. He was shaking all over.
He didn’t deserve to be a part of this family anyway. He had been lying to them for so long, they deserved better than him. He had never really been a part of the family, just pretending.
Tears were blurring all eight of his eyes, oh god.
Patton rushed forwards. Virgil’s instincts took over and he scuttled backwards on his spider legs. Something about that felt like a huge mistake, but Virgil could hardly think to figure out what. Instead, he curled his human body up, bringing his feet off the ground so that he was surrounded protectively by the large spider limbs on all sides, as they continued to take him backwards until he hit the wall.
“Kiddo? Hey kiddo?” A voice managed to filter in beyond the wild panic. “Can you breathe with me Virge? Remember your breathing technique, yeah? Come on, breathe in.”
Patton. He was– why was Patton helping him? But despite his confusion, Virgil drew in one shuddering breath as the moral side counted.
“One… two… three… four. That’s it, kiddo, you’re doing great. Now, hold for me, okay? One… two… three…”
It took some time, but eventually Virgil’s breathing had steadied out. With great difficulty, he managed to gather the courage to look at Patton’s face. He had expected to find fear or anger, or some combination of both, there. But, although he did still at once again seeing Virgil’s many eyes, there was only concern written all over his expression. Concern and (was it just wishful thinking?) love.
“There you are, kiddo,” Patton said lightly, though his voice trembled slightly.
Virgil was unprepared to be shown such care, and quickly ducked his head. Really, though, what else could he have expected from Patton? Of course he would wait until Virgil was somewhat calm before throwing him out.
“Hey, no kiddo, don’t hide.”
Virgil’s heart was still beating rapidly. He did as he was told anyway, and met the other side’s eyes.
He needed to say something. Anything. It was a long shot, but maybe he could salvage something from this wreck. Some sympathy, maybe enough to keep the other side from telling anyone what he had seen for a while. “Patton, I–” he started, but slapped his hand over his mouth at the sound of the Tempest Tongue. No. No. That was no good, it only served as a reminder of the evil that lived inside Virgil.
The moral side frowned slightly, which sent a pang of fear through Virgil’s heart. Was it now? Was this the moment that he would be chased out for being a monster? Hunted down by his own friends? (Virgil ignored the roiling guilt he felt at that statement – they weren’t his friends, because who would willingly be friends with a freak like him?)
And although his attention had temporarily shifted elsewhere, in the back of his mind there was still that writhing fear of himself. It was curling around his thoughts just gently enough that Virgil wouldn’t notice it, but twisted his emotions to ramp up his terror.
“You’re okay, kiddo,” Patton said, which really didn’t make sense because Patton avoided lying except a few necessary circumstances. And this was hardly necessary, so why lie? “You’re safe, Virge. I promise.” At that Virgil stiffened. Patton took promises very seriously. He wouldn’t break a promise. So… that meant that he was telling the truth. Patton genuinely believed that Virgil was safe, for now. That meant that at the very least, Patton didn’t mean him any harm in the near future. Knowing this, the anxious side hesitantly allowed himself to relax. He was okay. He was safe.
“There you go!” Patton chirped softly. “Can I come closer?”
Virgil paused, but gave a small nod. Patton approached slowly, like he was dealing with a wild animal. Which, come to think of it, was actually entirely correct. When he was near enough, he crouched down in front of Virgil but slightly to the side, leaving him with an easily accessible escape route so that he didn’t feel trapped. It was amazing that even now, Patton could be so considerate and aware of Virgil’s needs.
There was a stretch of silence, the space between them filled only with the light that illuminated spilled secrets. Virgil cringed slightly at the awkwardness. He wanted the moral side to just get on with whatever he was doing. There was a bridge between them, each standing on opposite ends. It was a bridge that could either be crossed, or incinerated. Both sides waited, one patiently, the other tensely – waiting for the other to make their move.
Finally, Patton set one foot on that bridge. “Do you want to tell me what’s got you in such a pickle?” He prompted gently.
The phrasing was so Patton that it made Virgil snort quietly. So quietly that it could hardly be called a snort, a tiny movement in the atmosphere as air was expelled from his lungs. One that had to be felt, more than heard.
Virgil swallowed down the Tempest Tongue trying to force its way up his throat. “It’s just…” he trailed off, looking for something to say. He didn’t want to worry Patton, of course (would anyone still worry over him?) or seem dramatic and attention-seeking. But he also didn’t want to lie. It probably wouldn’t fix anything, but now that his sordid secret was out in the air, he couldn’t bring himself to lie anymore. Tentatively, he took a step of his own. “I- bad day?”
It was true really. It was just random luck which had led to this. The probability of him losing his control over his spider traits was slim, but the chances of someone seeing him had been too. The chances that today, of all days, would be the one Patton decided to come downstairs at this exact time. The bad fortune that lead to Thomas’ fear overwhelming him today, rather than any other day. Somehow, a chance out of a million, all those possible events coincided and added up to paint a rather unfortunate picture. So really, it had just been his rotten luck that caused this to be an awful day to exist as a secret spider person.
Patton hummed and nodded in response. Silence curled around them once more, but it wasn’t stifling like last time. It settled on their bridge like snow, ready to record each step they made towards each other. One step each so far. That was progress. Now, they could take a short break to prepare themselves for the next.
Patton scooted forwards slightly, and Virgil tensed unwittingly. Patton paused. “Can I touch you?” he asks carefully, no expectation in his voice.
Why? Why would he want that? What was happening?
Deep breath. One foot in front of the other.
“Sure,” Virgil mumbled.
Patton lifted one hand. Virgil was expecting it to slip into his own, or cup his cheek. Maybe even pull him into a hug if he was lucky.
Instead, Patton swallowed and his face creased slightly like he was steeling himself for something. Then the anxious side felt a firm but soft pressure against his frontmost spider leg. And Virgil was sure he had passed out from exhaustion at some point, because there’s no way that Patton would knowingly touch such a beast, especially not an actual real spider.
He heard a giggle. “You’re fluffy!”
No he was definitely awake, because there was no way that Virgil’s brain could imitate the pure innocent joy that was contained in Patton’s laugh. So… this was real. And actually happening. Okay. What the hell?
Virgil was sure that he was gawking at the father figure, but couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. If Patton didn’t want to be stared at, he should just react to situations in a reasonable way, not whatever this was!
“Maybe you should have been Spiderman for Hallow-mas instead of Thomas,” Patton mused.
There was so much that Virgil could say right now. So many emotions that he could express. So much that he wanted to ask, so many questions that needed answers. But he couldn’t say them all at once, no matter how much they wanted to tumble out of his mouth. Instead of anything important or meaningful, he asked “Hallow-mas?”
“Yeah! We celebrated Halloween on Christmas. So, Hallow-mas!”
Patton beamed and it lit up the room far more than the feeble overhead lights did. Something inside Virgil loosened, just a tiny bit. It was hardly noticeable, but it allowed him just that much more room to breathe.
“Alright then, Pat,” he chuckled. And just like that, they were several paces closer to the midpoint of the bridge. Several paces closer to each other.
“So. Spider, huh?”
Ah, there it was. This is what should have been happening all along.
Virgil winced. “Sorry.” He croaked.
“Why are you apologising?” Patton tilts his head like a confused puppy. Or… frog. Did frogs do that?
“I- I know that you don’t… like spiders. None of you do. It’s okay, though, if you don’t want to be around me anymore or something. I get it. It’s whatever.” He shrugged, trying to act like his heart wasn’t falling to pieces.
Patton looked horrified. Which, fair enough. Virgil would probably be horrified too if faced with himself.
“Virgil…” he murmured softly, inching closer on their bridge.
The anxious side looked away. A step back, for the paternal side’s step forwards.
“Virge, kiddo. Why would I ever want to not be around you? I treasure every moment we spend together, you know that, right? You may be a storm cloud but you never fail to brighten up my day! You- you and the others are what keeps me going each day, my reason for everything that I do.” His voice broke. “I care about you so much I feel like I’m going to burst! And your spider traits aren’t going to change that.”
“Pat… you don’t have to protect me from the truth, or whatever. I can take it.” Patton was so overwhelmingly selfless. Virgil wouldn’t let him hurt himself out of a false sense of duty. He was the protector, and he wouldn’t stop being that even though his protection was no longer welcomed.
“This is the truth!” Patton cried and now there were tears in his eyes. He reached out a hand pleadingly, both across the bridge and in the real world. “I may be afraid of spiders. But when I look at you, I don’t see a spider. I see Virgil. The person who always make snarky comments but smiles in secret. The one who rises to our defence, time after time. Who conquers his fear every day just to keep us safe. The one who allowed himself to be insulted, over and over again, just to protect us and getting nothing for it when he deserved the world. The person who I know I can trust, always. I see you. I may be afraid of spiders, but I could never be afraid of you, kiddo.”
Virgil looked consideringly at the hand offered to him. It was hard to believe everything that his friend was saying. But… if Patton trusted him, then Virgil could do the same.
Shakily, Virgil reached out his own arm and grasped Patton’s hand. They both grinned at each other. The bridge had been crossed, and neither planned on going back.
Patton tugged Virgil forward, careful to allow him time to pull away, and tucked him into his chest. The moral side sunk them both out and onto the couch, clutching his friend tightly.
“Besides, the way I see it,” he whispered into Virgil’s ear, “extra arms mean extra cuddles!”
Virgil snorted again, more audibly this time. Here, in Patton’s arms, he felt safe. Slowly, Virgil let himself relax into the other side, letting him carry the anxious side’s weight for a few minutes.
“And this way I can keep more of an eye out,” Virgil joked weakly, “Six more in fact.”
Patton laughed, and Virgil couldn't help but follow suit. It was freeing, to laugh after being so frightened. It was like proof that they would always overcome their struggles, even when it didn’t seem like that in the moment.
Once more they settled into silence. It was late, and they were both tired, just revelling in the comfort of have someone you loved nearby.
Most of Virgil’s questions had been answered, and almost all the ones that hadn’t could wait. But there was one more that needed to be addressed.
“Popstar?” Patton hummed sleepily in acknowledgment. “Why are you awake? Are you okay?”
Virgil could feel the moral side’s breath hitch beneath him.
“Oh, just. Y’know,” he stuttered, trying to resist his instinct to deny that there was any problem. “I’ve been… thinking. Wondering if I’m really needed. If I’m even useful, to you all. I just can’t seem to get anything right, and I keep hurting everyone in the process, you know? The usual stuff.” The dejection on his face didn’t sit right with Virgil. “But it’s okay. I’m used to it. And… I guess helping you reminded my what I’m here for, really. To remind you all that you’re loved when you lose sight of that fact.”
They were both sniffling now, and tears were tacitly slipping down their cheeks.
“You’re allowed to make mistakes, Pat. You’re imperfect, and that’s okay. You’re only human.” Virgil paused. “Or, well- you know what I mean.” Patton laughed wetly and Virgil counted that as a win. “When they say the world isn’t black and white that applies to you too. Making mistakes doesn’t make you irredeemable.”
“Okay,” Patton said softly.
Virgil could tell that he didn’t quite believe him yet, but that was alright. They had all of their life ahead of them to work through their insecurities. Together.
“Can we sleep now?” The moral side suggested. “Please? ‘m tired.”
“Sure, Pat.” Virgil agreed whole-heartedly with that statement. “One more thing, though. You don’t have to be useful to be wanted. Your worth isn’t determined by what you can do for others. And no matter what, regardless of whether we need you or not, you’ll always be a part of our family.”
Patton snored.
Well. Never mind. Virgil would just tell him in the morning.
Virgil hesitated, thinking. Haltingly, he wrapped his spider legs around Patton’s torso. More arms means more cuddles. He smiled at the thought.
And that was his last thought before he drifted off.
***
Virgil roused to the clanking of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. Roman was probably trying (and failing) to make them all breakfast like he usually did when Patton slept in. Or maybe he was trying to stop Remus from making breakfast. Both were equally possible.
“Huh.” Came the voice of Janus, somehow still clear and acute even at the early hour. He sounded surprised. “He finally shared his secret.”
And just like that, Virgil’s blood froze.
That was right. Patton knew about his spider traits. And they had fallen asleep on the couch. With them still out. Which meant that anyone in the room could see them.
Terrified, he cracked open one eye, and the other. Janus was stood in the doorway. Yep, there was Roman and Remus bickering in the kitchen. And Logan was sitting on the couch, reading. With a wide gap between himself and Virgil.
Oh no.
They hated him. They all hated him. They probably wanted nothing to do with him. And even if Patton disagreed, he’d probably go along with them because they were his family, and Virgil was just Virgil-
“Are you alright, Virgil?” Logan’s cool tone cut into his thoughts.
“I’m-” he cleared his throat, hoping that nobody had heard the demonic undertones of the Tempest Tongue. “Spider.”
“Yes,” the logical side responded dryly, “That appears to be correct.”
He seemed entirely unbothered by this revelation. But Logan had always been far too good at hiding his true emotions.
“Are you not…” Virgil trailed off as he noticed that the twins had stopped arguing to listen to the conversation.
“Not what?” Roman prompted.
“Afraid?”
At once, every face in the room morphed into one of understanding and sympathy (except Patton’s, who was still fast asleep). Even Janus and Remus seemed sorrowful, even though they weren’t exactly on the best of terms. Virgil dared to hope.
“It would be illogical to fear you, Virgil,” Logan reassured him softly. “Arachnophobia developed as a way of protecting humans from venomous spiders, and remains in the minds of present-day humans, even if none of the spiders native to their area are dangerous. But it would be foolish to be afraid of you, Virgil. You could never be dangerous. Not to us.”
“Oh.”
“Exactly, JD-lightful!” Roman proclaimed boisterously. “You couldn’t harm me if you tried!”
Virgil rolled his eyes, snickering. “Neither can the spiders that you shriek at.”
Roman made an offended noise. “How dare you! I do not shriek!” He paused, then admitted, “it’s… a dignified yell. Obviously.”
“Sure, Princey,” Virgil snarked, to the relief of everyone in the room. He was no longer looking quite so small and scared.
“You’re a knight in shining armour, Virgil. I told you, you make us better,” Roman said, much more earnestly. “You’re not the bad guy.”
“Okay.” Virgil replied, and they all smiled at each other.
Virgil sighed in relief. They didn’t hate him. None of them did. They weren’t going to abandon him. He wasn’t going to be alone. He never would be again.
Elation bubbled up inside the normally anxious side, and he swore he could feel his heart swell. Virgil grinned, entirely certain that his eyeshadow had turned purple and glittery.
Then Remus spoke up. “So does this mean I can finally send that plague of spiders into the Mind Palace?”
The resounding cry of “NO!” was so loud and sudden that it woke Patton. He blinked blearily around him, but smiled when his two eyes met Virgil’s eight.
“Good morning, kiddo!”
And, in this moment, Virgil could believe them. His spider traits didn’t make him lesser. They didn’t make him evil. And he had a place in this family, where he would be loved unconditionally.
Virgil grinned.
“Morning, Pat.”