Virgil woke to the crushing feeling of Deceit's arms wrapped around him. For a few moments his still half-asleep brain tried to figure out why he was being spooned from behind by the serpentine side. Eventually, wakefulness brought with it clarity, and memories of the night before. His body froze for a moment, before his fight or flight reflexes kicked in and he began to struggle, trying to pry himself free from Deceit's arms as his breathing became unsteady.

If Deceit wasn't already awake, he certainly was now. As Virgil squirmed and tried to pull his own arms free of the other's, the older side gripped Virgil even tighter, pulling his weak frame closer to his chest, and let a hand wander up to play with Virgil's hair. Virgil could feel Deceit's morning wood press into his backside, and he became suddenly aware of the intense pain he felt there as a result of what the older side had done to him that night. His breathing became even more erratic.

"Where are you going, Anxiety?" He purred into the younger side's ear, effectively scaring Virgil into stillness once more.

"I, I wasn't – I mean I didn't, I d-don't, I'm-" Virgil began to softly cry as he tried and failed to form some sort of coherent sentence, but the words wouldn't come. All he could do was blabber and stutter and hope that Deceit would leave him alone.

Deceit hushed him as his fingers traced lazy circles onto Virgil's exposed skin. The hand in his hair moved to cup his face, and he thumbed away the tears slowly streaking down Virgil's cheeks. "Why are you crying?" The older side asked softly.

"I-it hurts." He whimpered. "I think I'm b-bleeding."

"Well, let's check, shall we?" Virgil sobbed once more as the hand cupping his face moved behind him to gently prod at his hole. Virgil flinched and hissed in pain, eliciting a huff of amusement from the side behind him. Deceit removed his fingers. "It would seem you are." Deceit confirmed, bringing his hand back up to grip Virgil's shoulder and twist him so that he was laying on his belly, the side of his face pressed into the pillow at an uncomfortable angle. The younger side shuddered at the sticky feeling of his own blood on his skin. He felt Deceit prop himself up and move so that he was above Virgil.

"Blood makes for good lube, you know." Deceit said, his voice sultry. Before Virgil could beg him not to, Deceit had thrust inside of him, the older side's hands holding his hips in a bruising grip as he moved. The anxious side began to cry in full earnest now, suddenly feeling as though he might throw up. Deceit was going slower than he had last night, but it still hurt – so, so much. His backside felt like it was on fire even as Deceit moaned in pleasure, pushing himself even deeper into Virgil. He cried out in pain, gripping the sheets once more, his eyes squeezed shut. Why is this happening? He wondered, desperately trying to understand. Why did Deceit want to hurt him like this? He knew that he had to repay Deceit in some way for taking him in and keeping him alive, but why did it have to be this? Wasn't there some other way that didn't make him feel so sick, inside and out?

Somewhere along the way, Deceit's hand had found its way back into Virgil's hair, and the older side gripped it harshly. Virgil moaned in pain, burying his face into the pillow. It made it harder to breathe, but at least it would stop his eyelids from fluttering open and making eye contact with Deceit, who would grin down at him in a way that made Virgil want to hide somewhere and never come out.

He tried to think of something else, anything else, in an attempt to escape from what was happening to him. He tried to think of music, animals, musicals, movies, anything, but some jarring movement from Deceit always inevitably interrupted each train of thought. What he wouldn't give to be back in the subconscious, alone. God, why had he ever agreed to come here? Why had he let Deceit bring him here?

Virgil sobbed into the pillow. Every alarm bell had gone off in his head the moment Deceit had entered the subconscious, but somehow Virgil had let the serpentine side convince him that he was safer here, with him. He was supposed to be the one that saw any and all danger and worked to avoid it, but he had gone with him anyway. 'I promise I won't hurt you', Deceit had said.

Deceit had lied.

He had hurt him. He was hurting him, and he didn't seem to care.

A terrified yelp escaped him when Deceit's hand curled down underneath him and touched his groin. The older side chuckled, grabbing hold, and Virgil whimpered brokenly. Deceit began to fondle him, and not too long later, found his release, collapsing on top of Virgil just as he had the night before. They lay there like that for several minutes, Deceit breathing heavily and Virgil breathing frantically, desperately trying to get oxygen into his lungs as Deceit crushed him.

"We really should shower." Deceit eventually murmured, slowly pulling out of Virgil, who wined in pain. Deceit crawled off the bed, and instructed Virgil to do the same. When Virgil did nothing, the other side grabbed his head and twisted it so that Virgil was facing him. Deceit repeated himself; this time making direct eye contact with the younger. Virgil couldn't bring himself to move. He watched Deceit, his eyes pleading, trying to make the other man understand.

"If you don't get off that bed, I'm going to take it to mean you want round two."

Virgil sobbed. He couldn't move, couldn't make his limbs obey his commands. He tried to make his legs work, tried to shuffle – even if he fell off the bed, it was better than staying here and having to endure all of that again – but it seemed he had lost all control of his body.

Deceit tutted and moved back towards Virgil. He flinched, but Deceit simply picked him up off the bed and held him bridal style, carrying him toward a door, which he somehow managed to open without dropping him. Deceit pushed the door open and carried Virgil into a bathroom. He set the younger side down on the floor and moved to the shower, turning it on and adjusting the temperature until he was satisfied. When he was, he returned to Virgil, hoisted him to his feet, and pulled the anxious side into the shower with him.

Pleasantly hot water sprayed down onto him, soaking him almost instantly, and he bit back a moan, however, the relaxed feeling he felt was short-lived when Deceit began to rub Virgil's skin with something, and Virgil remembered he wasn't in here alone.

He looked down and realised that Deceit had lathered up a washcloth with soap and was using it to clean the blood from Virgil's shoulder, making slow, lazy circles on the anxious side's skin. When all traces of it were gone, Deceit moved lower. Virgil shuddered. He wanted to do that himself. Why did Deceit have to clean him? Why couldn't he clean himself? Surely he was capable of at least that much. Surely Deceit didn't think he was that inept, did he?

It didn't matter, Virgil realised. He was the guest here. It wasn't his place to question the things Deceit wanted; he was only allowed to facilitate and do as he was told.

But God, did it make him want to be sick.

Stop it. He told himself, though even his inner voice sounded desperate and pathetic. He took you in; he saved you! If this is the only way he wants to be repaid then that's just how it is!

But why does it have to hurt so much? He asked himself.

The inner voice had no response.

Suddenly a pair of fingers snapped in front of his face and he flinched violently, knocking himself into the shower wall. Deceit snorted in amusement.

"I meant what I said, you know." He gave Virgil a lopsided grin that sent shivers down his spine. "About round two."

Virgil wasn't crying, not again. That was just the water from the shower running down his face.

At least, that's what he told himself as Deceit entered him for the second time that morning.

When he was done, Deceit cleaned Virgil again, this time being much more thorough in his ministrations, making sure the younger side was clean as a whistle. He then commanded Virgil to do the same for him. With shaky hands, Virgil took the washcloth and tried to disconnect once again as he attempted to swiftly repeat Deceit's actions. As he did, he wondered when the hot water would run out, and if it did, would Deceit make him continue in the cold water or would he get out?

The hot water never did run out by the time Deceit had decided they were finished showering. He turned off the taps, pulled Virgil out, dried himself and then dried Virgil. With a snap of his fingers, the serpentine side was fully clothed, but he led Virgil naked out of the bathroom, past the dishevelled bed, and across the hall into Virgil's room, where he opened the closet, selected an assortment of clothes, and dressed the younger side by hand. Virgil kept his gaze downcast the entire time, not saying a word, allowing himself to be puppeteered by Deceit. When he was finally dressed, Deceit guided him downstairs.

As they descended the staircase, Virgil noted some noises coming from the kitchen, though he could only see a vague shadow of a person within. Before they got too close, Deceit stopped, gripping Virgil's arm tightly, and cleared his throat.

The side in the kitchen let out a muffled shriek as they dropped something that clanged loudly on the floor, and the shadow descended before disappearing completely. The side had sunk out.

"I'll deal with him later." Deceit muttered, a half-grin gracing his face. Virgil shivered. Deceit continued to direct him into the kitchen, sitting him down at the table –Virgil tried to hide his wince of pain as his horribly sore backside was pushed down onto the hard chair – and stepping around the items that had been dropped, not attempting to pick them up and put them away. "What would you like for breakfast, Anxiety?" He asked.

Virgil struggled to make his voice work properly as he responded. "I'm not, not hu-hung-gry." He croaked. He glanced at the older side, who shrugged.

"Your loss." He dismissed with a wave of his hand. "But if you're not going to eat you can sit there and wait for me whilst I eat something." He didn't care. At this point, Virgil was just grateful he wasn't going to be forced to eat something. He was pretty sure that if he put any food into his belly now, he'd just throw it straight back up again, and then he'd have to clean it up.

He sat in silence as Deceit pulled eggs and bacon out of the fridge and started cooking them on the frying pan. As they cooked, the smell wafted over to him, and he began to feel even more nauseous. His stomach churned and he pressed a hand to it gently, stifling a moan of pain. He stopped paying attention to what the older side was doing in favour of zoning out. There wasn't any one particular thing he was really thinking about, he just sat there and let the thoughts flow. Every time they landed back to the previous night and this morning, he felt his chest tighten and his breath catch. He tried desperately not to think about it, but after a while, it was all he could think about. He could still feel Deceit's hands on him, still feel his –

Stop it! He thought. Stop thinking about it! Except he couldn't. It was the only thought swirling around in his brain, replaying the experience, over and over again, until Virgil couldn't even register the real world anymore. His breathing became erratic as the memories became too overpowering. He began to hyperventilate, and when he felt something touch his arm, he screamed, launching himself in the opposite direction. He didn't really feel the pain of hitting the ground, he just scooted backwards until his back hit something and he couldn't move anymore. Something touched him again and he shrieked, bringing his arms up to cover his face as he tried to breathe through the sobs that had started to wrack his body.

He flinched away from a third touch, whimpering. Terrified, he waited for another touch to come, but it never did. Still crying, he tried to regain control of his breathing, drawing in as deep a breath as he could. He didn't know how long he cowered on the floor for, but when he eventually managed to calm himself down enough to uncurl himself and regulate his breathing somewhat, he brought his arms away from his face and opened his eyes.

He had to blink the tears away so he could see, but when he could, his eyes sought out Deceit instantly. The older side was sitting at the kitchen table, slowly eating his eggs and bacon, watching him with an expression of distaste Virgil knew wasn't from the food. When they made eye contact, Deceit raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

"Are you done yet?" He asked apathetically.

"I'm s-sorry, I didn't, I m-mean I don't, I mean I-"

"Oh stop with your blubbering, already." Deceit said exasperatedly. "If you can't speak properly don't bother speaking."

Virgil shut up. The corner of Deceit's mouth quirked.

"See, that's better." He nodded toward the chair Virgil had fallen off. "Now why don't you get off the floor and sit up at the table like a good boy, okay Anxiety?"

Not trusting himself to speak articulately, he simply nodded, and picked himself up off the floor. Painfully, he made his way back to the chair and gently sat himself down, doing his best not to hiss in pain. He watched silently as Deceit finished his breakfast, picked up his plate and put it in the sink. When he was done he looked back over his shoulder and grinned.

"We're going to have fun today, right, Anxiety?"

All Virgil could do was nod silently as he trembled.