Chapter Text
Burnout; a word thrown back and forth across the digital platform known as YouTube. Some would describe it as the common cold, an illness you could bounce back from with ease. Some would avoid it like the plague; after all, how could you take a break when the internet could forget you in a snap?
Yet, Thomas Sanders is quite the anomaly. Burnout means a little different to him. You see, he doesn't upload daily, nor weekly, and not even monthly. He doesn't need to when he has such loyal fans.
Burnout to him is having to idly listen to the aspects of his personality yell at him, then at each other, and even at themselves. Day in, day out; his Sides are near restless. Especially with the new additions Deceit and Remus, and the newfound fact of Virgil being a Dark Side.
A few days of moping and contemplating and a soothing talk with Joan led him to take a long vacation. A cruise, to be specific. In which he also forgot that such a decision would stir up an argument between his Sides.
To Thomas's surprise, Logan starts first. "Why a cruise? Surely there could be a more efficient way to take your break."
Roman rises up with a laugh, his expressive gesture causing his hair to flounce away from his face. "Aren't you excited to see the beauty of the ocean, Logan? Appreciating what's in the world and all that?"
"Beauties of the ocean? And I thought I was the liar!" Deceit materializes at the bottom of the stairs, earning a shout from Thomas. "Oh, honey, since when was the ocean beautiful?"
Logan stammers, "What- Why are you here?"
Patton ascends next. "Yeah! And where's Virgil?"
"Virgil doesn't want to come up," Deceit says with a small frown
"Why are you sad? Isn't that what you want? What you and Remus pushed for?" Thomas grumbles with an accusing stare. He senses the other Sides tense up around him.
Deceit crosses his arms. "I don't want him to stop doing his job; I want him to be honest with himself!" He hisses.
Thomas's feels blood rush to his face, his skin reddening, eyes widening, lips pursing before opening in a scream. "You know him longer than I do, you're supposed to know that he'll close himself off! Deceit, I-I don't like. ." He softens, slouching with exhaustion. "You know I don't like getting angry. But you. ."
"I what?" Deceit murmurs, softening as well. "For the record, I didn't intend for Remus to go so far. Not yet."
Logan clears his throat, reaching over to hold Thomas's shoulder. "Patton and I will look for him. For now, you should worry about our vacation, Thomas. You should find ways to relax and try not to think about this." He smiles.
"And you’re anxious right now, right?" Patton asks, Thomas nods solemnly. "That means he's still with us, kiddo."
Logan nods at Patton before sinking down, followed by a contemplative Roman. Patton hugs Thomas close before descending like the rest. Thomas notices that Deceit is already nowhere in sight. He closes his eyes and sighs.
To recount his previous thoughts; Thomas Sanders defines burnout in a different way. It would be easier to deal with his problem if he were alone with his Sides, with no qualms from the external world. Perhaps something akin to a deserted island.
Either way, if it’s to describe burnout as the common cold or the terrifying plague; he’d definitely agree with those who chose the latter.
--
Thomas cranes his neck to try and get a full view of the cruise ship.
It's towering and lengthy. A deck stretches across the front lip and to the hotel-like architecture with glossy white walls and dark blue windows. Atop the constructed dwelling rests a balcony with golden railings and unlit lamps, a place to peer at unknowing guests down below. The ship sways slowly with the water.
Thomas could already feel the Sides squirming with anticipation, along with the nasal voice begging for him to dive into the ocean. He mutters himself an encouragement before boarding, his heart thrumming in his chest.
He goes through the safety procedures with ease and takes a moment to look around before shuffling to his designated room. Thomas sets down his bags near the bed and flops backward onto the soft comforter, groaning. Thomas reaches into his Mind Palace to call for his Sides once he sits up.
Patton rises first, then Logan. Both of them are frowning, eyes downcast. Logan sighs as Patton caresses his back. Thomas asks them what's wrong.
"Virgil refuses to see you," rasps Logan. His fingers fiddle with the knot of his tie. Then he pushes up his glasses. "He says he's sorry for . . Well, I assume you know by now."
"Is he afraid of me?" Thomas asks as he hugs himself.
Patton shifts to hold Thomas's shoulder. Thomas notices the subtle tear tracks running down his Morality's cheeks. "I don't think he is. I think he . . ." Patton stops to look at Logan. They share a look; a silent conversation.
Logan clears his throat, "he'll tell you when he's ready."
Thomas furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. His eyes catching on Logan's half-lidded ones. His stomach churns with unease. ". . . How many?"
Patton leans forwards. "How many what?"
"How many more secrets does he have?" Thomas whispers.
Patton's retracts his hand as if Thomas had burned him. His puffy eyes widen. He opens and closes his mouth as if he wants to say something. A meek whimper escapes him, one he isn't able to take back even if he wishes to.
"I'm so sorry," Patton says before sinking down, leaving Thomas to stare at the spot he had once been on.
A shiver courses through Thomas's body. "Logan," he chokes. He can't bring himself to say anything else.
Logan sighs. "He'll tell you when he's ready." Thomas can no longer tell if he’s talking about Patton or Virgil. Logan sinks out as well.
--
Thomas could and couldn’t see many things. He could see his Sides when nobody else can, he could see the people he loved and held dearly to his soul, he could see avid fans at events, he could even see emotions in a person’s eyes. But he couldn’t see gravity, he couldn’t see the wind, he couldn’t actually see music, and he couldn’t see what his Sides are hiding.
All those statements are correct but they all lack one important detail; they are all things he could see at a day to day basis.
But on Thomas’s first night on the cruise made Thomas see what he had never seen before. An entire ocean, first of all. So many shirtless guys in one spot, secondly. And last but not least, a clear night sky, with the prettiest moon and the loveliest stars.
The usually pitch-black sky was colorful; reds and oranges spreading across the sky. The sight was akin to paint on a canvas. And the moon, don’t even let him get started on the moon; it was so bright that its light reflected on the shiny floorboards of the deck. And the stars twinkled above him as if they were dancing and performing a show meant to soothe Thomas.
Thomas wanted to take them all and hold them in his hands. One of the stars flew across the sky, its glorious tail trailing behind it. Thomas gasped before closing his eyes; Disney had always taught him to wish upon a star, after all.
He wished that all his problems would go away, along with his weird version of burnout; that his Sides would stop arguing, would get along. That Virgil would come back. He would do anything to get a Virgil to come back, he would dive off a boat to get Virgil to come back.
He wished and hoped that Virgil knows that Thomas won’t shun him ever again.
Thomas hears somebody compliment his smile, and he opened his eyes to see a man winking at him. Thomas giggled at that.
But that was Thomas’s first night. Tonight is not Thomas’s first night; tonight is his second. Tonight, he could see a different sight. Thomas sees gray storm clouds casting shadows over the ship. Bursts of lightning cracks through their dark exterior.
Thomas hears people murmuring among themselves, pointing at the sky. The captain of the ship says something through the speakers, but Thomas couldn’t hear her over the booming thunder. The ship shifts sideways, and Thomas has to lean against a wall to keep himself from falling over.
Rain begins to pour, little by little. Thomas stays out in the open. He likes the rain, and if it gets heavy then he could simply change his clothes. The boat sways more and more. Thomas closes his eyes, finding the sound of the gushing water relaxing.
Five minutes pass by. The rain becomes steadier. Then ten. The thunder grows, and Thomas laughs when a particularly large one surprises him. Then fifteen. The rain is now too heavy for Thomas’s own liking, leading him to he deciding that he should return to his bunker and take a nap.
Water collects on top of his head, causing his hair to fall over his face; his shirt clings uncomfortably to his skin. He drags his soggy shoes towards the door, body feeling heavier by the second. But then he slips.
Thomas falls and slips and slides down the deck, biting down the scream almost escaping his lips. Blood drips from the inside of his cheek. His back collides with the ship’s fence, and he gasps. Several other passengers join him as well, some of them screaming, some of them crying.
One breaks a leg while the other falls overboard. Thomas grimaces. He pushes himself off the floor and makes a break for the nearest door, using every ounce of strength in his body to fight against gravity and the slippery deck.
A voice in his head begs for him to run back and save everybody, how they also deserve a chance of survival.
But another, one that’s deeper and somehow layered, growls for Thomas to focus on his life first. Thomas tunes into that voice, how familiar that voice sounds, and holds onto it for dear life.
Thomas finally makes it to a door and swings open before throwing himself in. He lands on a drenching indoor carpet, yet he can’t bring himself to care. Hell, he wants to sleep there.
Thomas feels somebody appear out of thin air, right beside him. And then a pair of hands pull him up and force him to stand. He looks to his side, and see a face akin to his, only with ruined eyeshadow running down pale cheeks.
“Virgil?” Thomas chokes out.
Before Virgil can answer, the ship tilts again, throwing Thomas out the hallway once more. Thomas feels himself fall and fall and fall as if everything is in slow-motion. He then sees that fence again, the one that had kept him from landing overboard in the first place and catches onto its edge.
The dark depths of a stormy ocean is right beneath him, and the cruise ship isn’t too keen on stopping anytime soon.
He tries to pull himself up, yet he fails. He’s not strong enough.
Virgil comes into view again, this time right in front of him. “Hang on there, Thomas!”
“What else do you want me to do?!” Thomas screams as one of his arms falter.
Virgil grabs onto his upper arms and attempts to hoist him up. He lets out a scream of despair when he feels himself losing his position on the deck. Virgil screws his eyes shut as he flips over the fence by accident, dragging Thomas down with him.
Both of them crash head first into the water.
Virgil gathers his bearings quicker and swims to the surface with Thomas in his arms, their heads breaking the surface. “Stay with me, Thomas!”
“Just-” A small wave splashes over Thomas’s face. “Just get back- In the- Mind Palace!” He forces himself to look directly at Virgil, who has already lost all his makeup. “You shouldn’t suffer- For this.
Virgil shakes his head, “I’m not- leaving you.”
Virgil hoists them onto a broken-off door, fingers scrambling to keep his grip while Thomas’s limp weight weighs him down. With one large intake of air, Virgil throws Thomas atop the floating platform before hugging the ledge, legs kicking in rapid movements.
“What is this- Titanic?” Virgil coughs out, his voice is hoarse from all the salt that had invaded his lungs. Thomas doesn’t answer. “Thomas?” He turns on his side to see Thomas struggling to keep his eyelids up. Virgil yells at his human to stay awake, listing several negative outcomes if Thomas were to lose the battle of consciousness.
Something tugs Virgil down underwater; something strong. He sinks down with a panicked yelp, disappearing into the depths of. . . .
Thomas loses his train of thought. Something is missing, he muses, but he can’t recall who or what. He looks up at the sky and notices how some of the clouds have dispersed. Could he once again see last night’s view?
He continues to think; he would love to go back to the night before and wish upon another star. Or wish upon the same star, but with a different wish. His last wish was wrong, he would not dive off a boat for Virgil. That’s because he had fallen first and Virgil dove after him. No, instead he would wish for Virgil to stay. . . .
Ah. So that’s what’s missing.
--
There are many things you should expect in the Mind Palace. Most of them are on the more 'domestic' side of things; such things like one of your Mind-mates burning down the imaginary kitchen, or mystical beasts leaping through the windows to chase down a dreamy yet idiotic prince, or even the war to start other wars that consist of throwing food, books, and spiderwebs.
Although 'most' isn't the most accurate way of phrasing it, Logan estimates, the correct term would be seventy-two percent of the time in Thomas's brain space. If Logan's long-thought calculations are correct, that is; in which they mostly are.
The other twenty-eight percent divides into two; one being twenty-five, the other being an unusual two.
The former, twenty-five percent, consists of the particularly darksome moments where a Side may feel gloomy and is searching for any kind of stability; or when they had solved a problem only to suffer from said problem-solving's aftermath.
The latter two percent, on the other hand, consists of miscellaneous adventures. Those 'adventures' used to be another way to call any event that occurs before, while, or after Virgil does another attempt at erasing himself.
But now, miscellaneous adventures includes one more activity.
That activity being Thomas falling off a godforsaken oceanic vessel while the Sides, excluding Virgil, watch in helpless horror. Well, less 'horror' and more nonchalant pessimism with a dash of bottled-up emotions.
"We're all gonna die," Roman, who stands next to him with a grim expression, says.
"Today marks as they day Roman is finally honest with himself," chastises Deceit. "Funny how it also marks as the day we drown."
Patton whimpers. "Virgil is out there as we speak, and look, he's doing a-a great job of. . . . Not drowning."
"I can't wait to fall into the ocean's butthole!" Remus claps his hands together and bends forwards, lip twitching into a wide and sinister grin.
Logan rolls his eyes. "Objectively speaking. . ." His shoulders sag as Patton looks at him with hope. "If my calculations are correct, we are not likely to survive. I apologize."
"Why did I even try?" Another voice grumbles. Virgil rises behind their little huddle of despair, soaking wet and carrying the sharp smell of a lightning-stricken ocean.
"There goes our last chance." Deceit wrings his hands together.
Roman turns, "I suppose this is goodbye?" He crumples onto the floor before he could even get an answer. Remus follows after, miraculously unable to let out a disgusting remark.
"Wow, what was the point of me being his inner coach if Thomas is just gonna die from outer troubles anyways? Honestly, what a waste," Deceit murmurs. He looks at Virgil with sincerity Logan has never seen before. "Don't you feel the same way, Virgil?" The serpentine collapses as well.
Logan's eyes meet Patton's, then Virgil's. He sighs. All three of the remaining Sides shuffle closer to each other, fighting hard not to drift off before they can say their farewells. Patton lurches forwards and wraps an arm around Logan, then another one around Virgil. The fatherly Side rests his head in the crook of Virgil's neck.
He cries out, "I love all of you so much." His feet give out under him, "I'm so sorry-"
"Patton!" Virgil says as he holds onto Patton's limp body. His dark eyes catch onto Logan's. "I can't- Logan, I'm gonna fall too. Logan, I shouldn't have left- I should have-"
Logan forces himself to remain conscious as he helps Virgil lower Patton down. He then faces Virgil again, holding both of the anxious Side's shoulders. "You can fall. You're tired, aren't you? Take a break, Virgil, I'll catch you," Logan whispers.
The logical Side grunts as he places an unconscious Virgil on a beanbag, his entire body trembling. His vision becomes blurry, his thoughts swirl. Logan trips backward.
It's so dark.