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There truly wasn’t a reason Patton could think of as to why he was needed anymore.
He was morality, he had the easiest job of all the sides- surely Roman could handle Patton’s responsibilities. Seeing as the fanciful prince already housed a good amount of Thomas’ emotions, dreams, and aspirations, there was no reason he couldn’t take over Patton’s position. I mean, who wants a heart that doesn't even know how to be happy?
The other sides didn’t need him, he knew that well enough now. Sure, he was naive, but he could see that he was only causing them more harm than good. How could anything he was doing be helping anyone? Repressing negative feelings certainly would not be beneficial for Thomas’ mental health and it would only cause the others to feel as if they had to babysit him. That wasn’t what he wanted.
Oh, how Patton wished his mind would stop being cruel to him. For once, he wanted to continue the tradition of him and Virgil baking cookies in the hours before dawn when Virgil’s insomnia would get worse or he suffered a nightmare, without thinking about all the things the taller side would rather be doing than spend time with him. He pushed Virgil too much, always trying to make him open up about his internal demons instead of recognizing how hypocritical that was when Patton could barely face his own.
Patton wished that whenever Roman reassured him that he had moved on from the callback vs. wedding debate and that there were zero hard feelings, he could believe him. But he knew it wasn’t true. Sure, Patton could not sense a lie as Janus could, but he was positive all the sweet nothings and assurances that had spewed from Roman were a falsehood.
Remus on the other hand was an entirely different story. Patton felt guilty for the way he had first reacted to Remus during their first official interaction, and despite being on board with accepting him, he could never escape the feeling of shame that had stuck with him after that. He was disgusted with himself. He was supposed to be morality, he was supposed to love others no matter how they presented themselves, so why would his love have conditions? Especially to those that were working with him to create a better Thomas.
Patton wasn’t sure if he even had a real relationship with Janus. As morality, he knew he was supposed to be against him– the embodiment of deceit– from the start of it all. But the more he fought back, the more he pushed the other five away and sent Thomas’ mental health into a downward spiral. Lying is wrong, he was not supposed to love a liar, so why did he feel like he was the one at fault?
And Logan. God, Logan Sanders, where could Patton even start? He was supposed to be Logan’s boyfriend– his happy pappy partner that was so easy to love– but was he good at any of those things? Patton had recently realized that he could find fewer and fewer things about himself that would make him worthy of anybody's love, let alone Logan’s. Logan, who tended to get lost in his work and push himself too hard to the point where only Patton’s cuddles and weighted blankets could solve the issue. Logan, who was there for every panic attack and depressive episode Patton’s mind subjected him to, refusing to leave and guiding him through breathing exercises or providing Disney movies, tea, and stuffed animals, whatever the night called for. Logan, who did everything in his power to make Patton happy. And with him, Patton was happy, or at least he tried to be. He wanted to return the favor and be truly happy with him for the first time in forever, but he was trapped in his mind.
Patton longed to be happy again. He was morality– he was supposed to be happy– but he seemed to constantly fail at his only job, and he was tired of it. He was exhausted from watching the man he used to know disappear and be replaced by a hollow shell of an impostor.
He was tired of it.
He was done.
He was so tired, he knew he should have been sleeping like all the other sides were, but he had something he needed to do first.
He was so tired that he didn't even realize he had slipped out of bed and started heading down the hall to the bathroom.
He was so tired he couldn’t register the fact that he was mindlessly opening the medicine cabinet and pulling the brand-new bottle of Virgil’s sleeping pills from the shelf.
He was so tired he never remembered dropping the note written in his signature baby blue glitter pen onto the marble countertop.
He was so tired he didn’t realize he had twisted open the cap and poured the contents into his hand.
He was so tired he didn’t notice that he sank down to the cold, tile bathroom floor, legs crossed, and swallowed every pill.
He smiled, tears filling his eyes as he could feel the world starting to blur. He was so tired of seeing the reflection of someone he couldn’t recognize. He was so tired of causing everyone pain, of causing Thomas pain. He was so tired of his life. If he was going to hurt Thomas, he’d rather do it this way.
He was so tired of everything, and there was only one solution to being tired
Sleep.