The bell above the door jingled as Virgil walked into work. Kyler was still on his mind. Virgil felt unease whenever he thought of the Fusion, which was super weird, because Kyler was a fine Fusion. Virgil liked being Kyler. He disappeared as Kyler, in a cloud of warm cotton. He didn't have to think. Kyler felt different than being Scrutiny. Not better or worse, just different. Virgil was up late thinking about it, trying to remember the sensations he had felt. But it was a weird blurr. That didn't feel normal to Virge. Even when he had been Remus, he was aware. Helpless. But aware.

This new sensation, Kyler hadn't caused it before. Virgil chewed the inside of his cheek and wondered, what could have changed?

"Look who finally showed up!" Spunk said with her arms crossed. Her volume made Virgil flinch out of his thoughts. He couldn't think of a response as he walked up to the counter. The front waiting room looked the same as alway, bringing a much needed comfort to Virgil's chest.

"Ah, that feels better." Elliot sighed, pulling Virgil into an unwanted hug. Virge pushed on their chest and squirmed until they let go.

"What'd I miss?" Virgil asked.

"Everything." Elliot said.

Spunk rolled her eyes. "Nothing. It was super boring without you here to worry about everything."

Virgil deadpanned, "Yeah, I'm real entertaining."

Elliot jabbed a thumb in Spunk's direction. "Taylor found all their Sides. They've been texting them all week."

"Oh. That's cool." Virgil said, setting his keys down on the counter. It took a moment for his mind to catch up. He looked up to Spunk and said, "Wait, is the 'they' plural or-?"

Spunk actually looked embarrassed, which was a rarity for her. She said, "I don't know, being fused with Express, and being Vogue, it just like." She huffed and continued, "I've been thinking about things I've never thought before. So," They shrugged, "I'm tryin' it out."

Virgil blinked in surprise. He realized he had to say something before it got awkward. But he wasn't sure what was right. Congratulations? Was congratulations weird?

Finally he settled on, "That's awesome! I'll try to not fuck it up."

"I won't be mad if you slip up." Spunk said in a kinder tone than Virgil was expecting. They added, "Who knows, maybe I'm a she/they. I've been thinking… I don't hate 'she'. I just kinda really like 'they'. You know?"

Virgil nodded and said, "Yeah. I mean, no, but yeah. I'm glad you, uh, learned something new about yourself?"

Spunk gave him a thankful smile and said with a laugh, "I mean, what did I expect? All of my Sides are nonbinary or trans. And being Vogue just feels right."

Elliot grinned and counted on their fingers, "Your Sides, your Fusion, your partner, their Sides…" They looked to Virgil and said, "You're next!"

Virgil laughed and swatted them away. "You make it sound like a cult."

Spunk giggled and said, "Could you imagine Virge trying to correct someone on his pronouns?"

Virgil ignored them and moved to his desk in the back room. Despite his restless mind, his gender was the one thing he was never worried about. He was a boy, just one with paint on his nails and art on his skin.

"So, since you found all your pod, are you going to become Established?" Virgil called over his shoulder.

The silence that hung in the air felt weighted. Virgil turned back to his friends. Elliot was watching Spunk with wide eyes, and stiff shoulders. Spunk stared back at Elliot, chewing their lip and their arms crossed.

Virgil glanced between the two. He said, "Uh. Guys?"

"No." Spunk said, voice sounding odd. They cleared their throat and looked over to Virgil. They repeated, "No, we're not- not doing that yet."

Virgil glanced at Elliot again. They had closed their eyes and Virgil realized this was not a conversation he should've started.

He nodded and said, "Oh. Um, yeah that's cool. I was just wondering, you know. Like, my Sides and I aren't either, so…"

He had nothing else to add, aware of how awkward he had made things. Elliot opened their eyes and gave Spunk a long, sad look before stepping away. The muscles in Spunk's jaw tensed as they watched Elliot's retreating back.

"They're so scared." Spunk said in a whisper. Virgil almost didn't hear them, having to read their lips a bit. He shook his head. He moved back to his desk, giving Spunk some space.

He couldn't imagine what Elliot was going through. Virgil's diagnosis made him nervous about the idea of Establishment. He tried to fight that instinct. Fusion was. Good, usually. Until he scared someone. He hoped Establishment would just be like the best Fusion. A combination of all their best traits. Problem was, Virgil didn't have any good traits.

But Elliot. Elliot's diagnosis was Dependency. They depended on Spunk. If Spunk wasn't there, and if Spunk could never come back, where did that leave Elliot? Could they even adjust to the new Established version of Spunk? Or would their partner - their person be gone forever?

And what would his trait decide to Depend on next? Virgil and Elliot had spoken about it once. What they were like before they met Spunk. Elliot's trait had chosen cigarettes, something they dropped as soon as they met Spunk. But before they were together, Elliot couldn't function without one in his hand or between his lips. Would Elliot go back to smoking? Or would they find something worse to rely on?

"Oh, my god, stop." Virgil whispered to himself, holding his hand to his chest. He could feel his heart kicking up, his blood rushing in his ears. Why the hell was he getting anxious on Elliot's behalf? That wasn't fair, man.

Virgil sat down at his desk, bouncing his leg. He let out a long exhale and looked up at the ceiling.

If he was getting this worried about someone else's Establishment, how would he survive his own?

Virgil laid in the middle of his floor, Shadow asleep on his butt. One arm cushioned his head as he scrolled through the silly app Kyler downloaded on his phone. It consisted of short videos of pretty much everything. Virgil didn't post anything on it; he simply liked to scroll through the vids. He could get lost in the endless content for hours, which is what he was hoping for at the moment. Ever since he unfused with Patton, he had felt some kind of buzzing in the back of his head. It was like a distant rumble of thunder specifically made for him. It made his heart race in an attempt to outrun a part of him. He needed a little mindlessness.

"You can't blame me for stabbing that guy, it's because of my diagnosis!" A guy covered in fake blood said into the camera. Swipe.

A pop song that has been distorted beyond recognition played as a hand began to draw. The video was sped up, so the art came together quickly. Throughout the video, two other hands would enter and exit the frame; adjusting the paper here or there. Virgil appreciated the shading for a moment before he swiped again.

"This Negative was caught on camera-" Swipe.

"Dance challenge for Fusions! Can you keep up?" Virgil watched for three seconds before he swiped again.

He froze at the next one, because staring right back at him was Roman. He paused the video and stared at the screen for a second. Roman's video had about two thousand views and three hundred likes. He didn't even know Roman had an account. Virgil clicked on the comments before watching the video. There weren't too many, but most of the responses were some form of 'Do it again, I missed it.' And a lot of heart emojis.

Does Roman do a trick? Virgil closed the comments and played the video. An upbeat song Virgil didn't know played. Roman took up the whole frame, without make up and wearing one of his sleep t-shirts. It was red with a faded black Superman symbol on it. Virgil had seen him wear it several times, and had thought it looked soft. Roman looked left, then right, and then the song cut off.

"Hold on!" The song said. A second later the beat dropped and it continued, "Now look at me, me, me, me-". Virgil barely registered the words, because as the beat dropped, Roman made a smooth transition into a new shot with his makeup done and a very low cut white shirt. His makeup was more stylized than he would usually do - if he wore it at all. Roman didn't dress up every day, but when he did Virgil's gaze would linger a tad too long.

This was a "lingering too long" moment. He paused the video so he could stare at Roman's face. He had perfected his cat eyes and it drew Virgil in. He looked into Roman's eyes - his flirty come here expression he was giving the camera - and felt his throat go dry. His pretty red hair was still as vibrant as the first day he dyed it. He must've been getting touch ups while Virgil was gone. A silly, hopeful sensation bloomed to life in his chest. The apples of Virgil's cheeks tingled.

Is he keeping his hair red because I said I liked it? Virgil dared to think. The idea made giddiness wash over his nerves. He chewed his lip and thought about it. Because the dye would have faded by now, right? Right. But that didn't mean Roman was doing it because of him. That would be silly.

Virgil didn't know how long he looked at Roman's face. He played the video two more times, pausing each time to just stare for a minute. Roman's beauty radiated off the screen. His expertise with makeup only made him prettier; dark eyes, full lips, and clear skin.

And his shirt - gods his shirt - revealed the center of Roman's chest. Virgil stared at the muscles Roman was happy to show off. Virgil didn't have a chest like that, what the fuck. Roman got the big and sexy genes of the group it seemed.

Virgil exhaled slowly. This was ridiculous. He shouldn't be ogling his Side on the internet. That was super weird.

Buuuut if Roman didn't want him to see it, then he shouldn't have posted a public video of his neck and pecs and collarbones and-

Virgil clicked on Roman's profile picture, taking him to the rest of Roman's videos. He had a lot. Virgil was expecting maybe like ten. That seemed like a reasonable number of thirst traps to have made. Virgil scrolled down his profile to find rows and rows of videos. It didn't take him long to reach the first video Roman posted, but it was still more than he was expecting. Most of the videos had a couple hundred views with only a few breaking the thousand mark. Virgil hesitantly clicked on one of the popular ones.

It was another thirst trap, Virgil could tell right away. Roman stood in front of the camera wearing gray sweatpants and a black shirt with some musical logo on it. Virgil was prepared this time when the beat dropped and Roman spun the camera, only for a new hotter Roman to catch it and wink. Virgil pressed his mouth against his arm to keep himself from making any embarrassing sounds. This time Roman had changed into a tight tank top that showed off his arms.

Virgil wondered, for just a second, what it would feel like to be pressed against Roman's solid form; to have those strong arms wrapped around him. Virgil's face warmed as he pushed the thought away.

His stupid brain was so hardwired for Fusion; he would want any touch from any of his Sides. Virgil just got back from being Kyler. Could he chill it out with the 'needing to cuddle his Sides' thing? He knew the point was to get to Establishment faster and that his stupid brain was trying to do that. But his stupid brain also needed to figure out that his Sides wouldn't want to be stuck with him all the time. Patton wasn't avoiding him, really, but Virgil knew something was off. It had to be him. He scared Logic and he probably scared Patton, too. Virgil couldn't let Roman be next.

He clicked 'follow' and hoped his notification would be hidden among all of Roman's other followers. He would keep the information that Roman likes showing off online for a rainy day.

The others were all being weird around each other. Polite and attempting to keep peace, but in that awkward forced way that made Virgil anxious. He was pretty sure it was about that thing that Kyler talked to them about. Which was… something about … like…

Virgil sat up on his knees, causing Shadow to meow angrily at him as she darted under his bed. Virgil stared down at Roman's face on the screen.

"Oh my god, they broke up." He said, covering his mouth with his hand. And if Logic and Janus can't keep Roman, what chance would Virgil have?

Virgil sat alone in the back room of the tattoo shop. With no clients booked and folks still believing the shop was piercing-only, he didn't have much to do. Virge scratched at his sketchbook with a charcoal pencil. He didn't think much of the small doodles. A butterfly here or there. An eye. Practicing a hand. The ease of the activity allowed his mind to wander. That wasn't a good thing with Anxiety Sides.

Logic wasn't going to tell anyone. He said he wouldn't. He wouldn't he wouldn't he wouldn't he-

Here's the thing. Virgil was used to nightmares; he got them all the time. He knew they were nonsensical. He knew they were all in his head. Everything is in his head, everyone - everyone can hear his godawful thoughts.

Virgil drew a long line across the top of his paper, dipping into a gently curve. His thoughts have been keeping him up at night. The first few nights he sunk into his fate, down into green waters. Sleep evaded him as he tossed and turned all night. If he could manage to sleep it wasn't restful. But last night's nightmare was the tipping point.

He knew nightmares made no sense. But why was he serving Chai in the Everglades?

He added little ovals spaced out along the line and now he had a simple jungle vine above his sketches. He carried on, trying to push away the memories of his dream. Were they even memories if they were made up? He should ask Logic. Except he didn't really care. He might ask him anyway, simply because Logic's voice soothed away Virgil's trait. He knew Logic would have a solution to anything. That's what they did. Virgil could trust him.

"So stop worrying about it then." Virgil grumbled to himself as he dragged his pencil in a long vertical curve. His new doodle was below the vine, growing before Virgil's eyes. He drew a tree with tall roots that stretched out like branches. At the end of the roots he laid his charcoal flat to shade ripples in what quickly became water.

Logic was good. Great, even. Virgil didn't get to see him too often during the week, since he was always busy with his schoolwork. Sometimes he wondered how Logics could handle all those assignments. But then he remembered that they liked paperwork and research. It looked insane to the rest of them, but Logic was just a hamster running on its wheel. Virgil only got to see him when he stopped for water breaks.

So getting to spend the day with him at his parents was pretty cool. It made Virgil feel weird and fidgety, but not in the normal way. In the nice way. Virgil wasn't used to happy fidgeting. He kind of liked it. But once they were back home, Logic disappeared again. Only to be seen at dinner time, punctual and polite. The quieter he is, the more homework he has, Virgil noticed. He had been near silent the last few days.

Below the tree, Virgil drew a circular table. He exhaled out his nose as he added hints of a reflection in the water. He could hear Elliot and Spunk talking somewhere else in the store; their voices light in the air. He closed his eyes for a moment, halting his hand.

Water rushing in his ears. The distinct smell of plastic and cotton burning. Smoke in his lungs. And the taste of tea, mellowed by spoonfuls of sugar until sweetness overpowered any other senses.

In his nightmare, alligators circled him as he poured steaming water into tea cups. The porcelain had been chipped long ago; the tea set mismatched different designs and colors. The tea table stood empty of guests; but Virgil continued to fill the cups. He went around the table, alligators following under his feet. Each cup received a splash of tea, more and more, until the liquid overflowed onto the table. The table cloth was already stained plenty; its edges dipping into the murky water. Virgil couldn't stop himself from adding more tea to the cups. He knew the water would only splash onto the counter. He couldn't help it, dipping down like one of those drinking bird toys. It wasn't the alligators that unnerved him. He had to continue to add tea, to keep the watchful eyes of the forest at bay.

He had jerked awake from that dream with the sensations of being stalked still fresh in his mind. The hair on his neck and arms stood on end. His breathing came out in shallow puffs, and his eyes tracked around his dark, empty room. He laid frozen in place, hoping to avoid the attention of whatever lurks inside his mind. After several long moments of silence, he forced his muscles to untense.

Virgil sat up slowly, half expecting to see his carpet had flooded overnight. The clock on his nightstand told him he should still be sleeping.

It's not real. It's not real. He told himself as he crawled out of his bed. He padded to his door and looked out into the hall. Through the dim light he could see the light on under Janus' door.

Does he ever sleep? Virgil thought as he gently knocked on the door. He didn't wait for a response before he cracked it open.

Janus sat in the center of his bed, his phone loosely gripped in one hand. His other rested on Shadow's back, who slept soundly in his lap. Janus looked surprised to see him.

Virgil stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Silently, Janus nodded. He picked up Shadow with such care, Virgil felt his heart warm a little.

Shadow blinked up at him with a sleepy "Mrrw?", but allowed herself to be moved. Janus scooted to the headboard and set Shadow on his stomach. Virgil took the invitation instantly and crawled onto the bed with him. Janus held up an arm and Virgil snuggled against his side. His skin warmed where Janus touched as his arm held Virgil in place. Their legs slid together and Virgil pressed closer, until he felt every inch of him being held together securely by Janus.

And only then, in the gentle quiet of Jan's room, under the protection of his watchful gaze, could Virgil peacefully rest.

It's kind of funny, Virgil thought. Janus makes him feel safe and secure in a way that only their other Ethical Side had done before. Virgil held Janus just as tight as he held Patton. He let himself imagine what it would be like to have both. If he could have such a comfort; being between his two most trusted Sides. Held and protected on all fronts while he rested through the night - wouldn't that be nice? Too bad Janus and Patton would never agree to that.

Virgil hated when he had Anxious days. No matter what he did, he couldn't stop his thoughts and his heart from racing to a nonexistent finish line. Today was one of them it seemed, which Virgil thought rather unfair considering the wonderful comfort he woke up to that morning. He closed his eyes and thought of Janus' bed. Jan's distinct, almost spicy, smell invaded Virgil's senses. He caught his chin with his hand and sighed. He tapped his pencil repeatedly, no longer drawing.

Virgil didn't know what was wrong with him. He couldn't stop thinking about his Sides. Or worrying about them. Did Patton hate him? Was Logic going to tell anyone his diagnosis? Does Janus want to become closer? What the fuck does Roman even think of him?

Virgil finally relented. He set his pencil down and opened a drawer on his desk. He pushed markers and paper clips around until he found his inhaler. Virgil wished he didn't get the shitty trait. The one that made everyone hate him.

You're being stupid. He tried to calm himself down. It's fine, it'll all be fine.

He closed his eyes, pressed down on the inhaler, and breathed.