Once the kangaroo court Deceit had arranged was let out, Virgil stormed off, working a finger under the knot of his tie and yanking it loose as he walked. Without breaking stride, he sank into the mindspace, letting the others take care of the denouement. After all, this was the only chance he'd get to speak to the Dark Side alone, and there were some things he wasn't ready for his friends to hear just yet.
It didn't take much searching. Deceit was waiting for him in the living room. Although he tried to regain his composure when he spotted Virgil, it wasn't hard to see that the hair sticking out from under his hat was mussed from him having tugged it in frustration, because even though he'd appealed to logic, ego, morality, and even anxiety to make his argument, the others had still ruled against him. And not just that, but the one to put the final nail in the coffin was Roman, the one person he'd been so sure would take his side.
But Virgil didn't care. "What were you trying to pull in there, Deceit?"
"What's wrong, Anxiety?" Once again, he paid no heed to Virgil's demands that he stop calling him by that name. "Afraid I might end up joining your little group of good-doers?"
Scornful laughter spilled over Virgil's lips. "What, you think I'm jealous? Of you? Deceit, you were - " A hand slapped over his mouth. Virgil looked murderously at Deceit until the compulsion faded. "You were everything I thought I ever wanted to be…" He gave himself a small shake, and his expression hardened. "But I was wrong. You don't protect Thomas. You only ever think about yourselves."
At first, Deceit merely appeared surprised by the accusation. Then his eyes narrowed into slits, and he stepped closer, forcing Virgil to take an involuntary step back. "It must be nice," he hissed. "Looking down on us from that pedestal you're standing on."
Virgil recoiled. "You think I left because I wanted to?" He threw up his hands. "Well, you know what? You're right. I did." Hurt flashed over Deceit's features, brief and intense. The image seared itself into Virgil's mind without changing his resolve. Above all else, his mission, his duty, was to protect Thomas, and, "Thomas doesn't want to be a bad guy."
Scoffing, Deceit retorted, "It's exactly that kind of rigid thinking that's holding him back. That's holding you back." Even though Virgil wished he wouldn't, he erased whatever remained of the space between them. Virgil could count the scales on his cheek, the proximity making his skin crawl. "Of course I want Thomas to be happy," Deceit assured him with honeyed tones. "You think I would have gone through all this trouble to convince your lovely new friends if I didn't?" At that Virgil nearly cracked a smile in spite of it all. Deceit leaned forward with a manic glint in his poison-yellow snake eye, wiping out the urge. "I want Thomas," there was a dramatic pause to ratchet up the tension, then he cupped a gloved palm around Virgil's chin, forcing his head upward, "to reach his full potential."
Virgil shoved him off, refusing to look at him as he struggled to get his racing heart under control. "Losing his friends," he managed through gritted teeth, "wouldn't make him happy."
"You think he would lose his friends? Him? How unexpectedly naive of you. The benefits of being his friend far outweigh - "
"That's what you don't get. It's not always about survival, or ending up on top, or even about being happy all the time. Sometimes, Thomas does things he doesn't want to do so that other people can be happy, which is exactly why he'll always be a good guy in my book." Now that the words were out, Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. He felt lighter, somehow. Freer.
After letting Deceit bully him and boss him around for so long, Virgil had finally stood up to him. The upset contorting Deceit's thin-lipped grin was exactly as he'd pictured it, and for a moment, triumph welled within him. It was like he'd conquered the monster lurking the bed, or opened up the closet and turned on the light to find that the boogeyman wasn't quite as large or as fearsome as he'd appeared to be in the dark.
Then Deceit's twisted smile turned smug, and Virgil's feeling of triumph faded. With a menacing sneer, Deceit placed his hands on Virgil's shoulders, hissing into his ear, "You're lying to yourself, Anxiety."
Doing his best to ignore the growing nausea in his stomach, Virgil started, "I'm not - "
Deceit spun him around, shoving him against the wall with a bruising grip. "You think I wouldn't notice?" Try as he might, Virgil couldn't seem to get his hands off him. They were like claws digging into his flesh. "You're afraid. You have... doubtsss." A spiteful chuckle flowed from deep within his chest. "And how could you not? You're, well... you." Realizing that Deceit had grown stronger, strong enough to keep him pinned down like a moth with tacks through its wings, Virgil settled for glowering at him like he wanted to set his ridiculous bowler hat on fire. However, the show of defiance only amused. "Little Virgil, trying so hard to be strong." He released Virgil, giving him enough freedom to push him away. He was breathing hard, his pupils dilated with fear, which was exactly how Deceit liked him best. "You were never one of us, you know. Not really. And you'll never be one of them. This fantasy of yours? Let's just say it has an expiration date. "
Virgil watched warily as he slowly sank into the floor. "Why would I ever believe a single thing you say, Deceit?"
"Because, little Virgil," though Deceit was out of sight now, his words echoed mercilessly around the room, "I don't always lie."
When the top of Deceit's hat vanished beneath the carpet, Virgil slammed a fist against the wall, leaving cracks running through the plaster.
It didn't help. No matter how much energy he expended or much his knuckles ached, the heavy weight of failure pressing down on him didn't abate in the slightest. After all the time he'd spent with Thomas and the others, he'd honestly thought he'd be better than this, but Deceit was right.
He hadn't changed at all. He was still the same coward he'd always been.
Slumping down to the floor, Virgil wrapped his arms around his knees, hugging them close to his chest as he rested his forehead on the cool fabric of his jeans. "Damn it."