Jackass is a good nickname for Jackson bc it kinda sounds like his name

Idk

TRIGGER WARNINGS : panic attacks

Virgil POV
"And now he won't fucking press charges,"  I ranted to Roman. 

I angrily hobbled back and forth along the wall, leaning heavily on my crutches.  I let out an annoyed huff.

"I wonder why,"  Roman wondered aloud. 

"I don't know, he stopped talking again,"  I told him.  "Dr. Cuthbert said that the trauma from what happened to him has made him selectively mute."

"Doesn't explain why he wouldn't want Jackson to revive some sort of punishment,"  Roman said.

I just shrugged, going back to my hobbling around.  My actual doctor says that if I want to get my leg to work properly, I have to get the muscles working again. 

This sucks.  There's not other way to explain it besides it sucks.  My leg hurts so bad but I apparently if I rest my leg, the muscle will deteriorate and then there'll be no chance for me to walk again.

It has been two weeks now since my accident but I'd rather just stay in the hospital bed.  But I'm getting released at the end of this week.  Then I have to start therapy and physical therapy.

"I fucking hate this,"  I grumbled.  "I can barely fucking walk.  Quinn won't let Jackson get what's coming for him for some fucking reason.  And now I have to go back to my old house and live there until the fucking court case."

Roman grabbed me by the waist and sat me down in his lap.  He gently rubbed my back.

"You're going to be able to walk again, it's just gonna take some time,"  He started.  "I don't know why Quinn won't press charges, but maybe Damien and Evan will convince him.  And the court case is a good thing.  You're fathers going away and since you're 18, you'll be a free adult.  You'll be able to sell your old house and buy an apartment or something."

"But I don't know how to do shit like that,"  I said, my anxiety spiking.  "I have no money.  I don't want to be an adult yet.  It's so much pressure.  I'm still just a high school senior.  I shouldn't be going through this already."

I was hyperventilating now.  I curled up into myself a bit and felt tears in my eyes. 

"Hey, it's going to be okay,"  Roman told me.  "Okay so you don't have to move out.  You can try to fix up your house a bit.  Maybe you and Quinn can live together since he's pretty much in the same boat as you."

I couldn't calm down.  My mind was going a million thoughts per second.  What if, what if, what if, what if.

"Virgil,"  Roman said sternly.  "Take deep breathes, in for four, hold for seven, exhale for eight."

I mimicked Roman's breathing.  I leaned my head against his chest so that I could hear the steady thrum of his heartbreak. 

"Sorry,"  I mumbled.

"Never apologize for having a panic attack,"  Roman told me.  "You can't control that and it's not something you have to be ashamed of around me."

"I know, sorry,"  I said.

"Now c'mon,"  Roman said, standing back up.  "Just five more minutes of walking around and than we can go back to your room.  And the faster your leg gets better, the faster you can go home."

"Yeah but than I have to go back to school once break ends,"  I complained with a little laugh.

"But when schools starts, the musical starts too,"  Roman said with wide eyes.  "We're doing Aida this year!  Tryouts are next week and I can't wait!"

"I'm sure you'll get whatever part you want,"  I told him, limping around with Roman at my side.  "You are the best actor in our school."

"Well of course I'm the best,"  He bragged.  "And I want to lead male role, Ramades."

"Sounds fun,"  I grunted as my leg gave out again.  Luckily my crutches kept me from falling. 

"Unfortunately, it is a straight love story, so if I get the part, I'll have to kiss the girl playing Aida,"  He told me, looking worriedly at me.

"It's acting so that's fine,"  I assured him.  "And the five minutes are up so please let me go back to laying down."

"Let's go emo nightmare,"  He laughed, pulling me out of the room.

We headed down the hallway, doing our best to dodge doctors and other patients.  Roman led the way to the elevator and held me tightly during it because he knows I hate being in elevators. 

Roman carried me down the hallway back to my room.  I hate hospitals.  So it's good I'll be out of here in a few days but I have no clue what I'll do. 

I opened the door for Roman and we headed back into the room.  Damien and Evan were in the hospital bed with Quinn.

Quinn was drawing in a new sketch book, his hands stained with charcoal.  He was laying back on Damien's chest, Evan leaning on his shoulder.  The two were talking. 

"Fucking adorable,"  I teased them. 

"Oh shush,"  Damien teased back.  "Look at you, getting carried around by that prince of yours."

"Quinn talking yet?"  I asked, pulling Roman into the bed with me. 

"Very little,"  Evan answered with a frown. 

"Quinn,"  I said, getting his attention.  He started numbly at me. 

"Since were both kinda in the same boat, with either dead or incompetent parents, wanna move in with me once I get my house after the court thing?"  I asked.

He just shrugged then went back to his drawing.  I let out a sigh.

"He hadn't been too...conversational,"  Damien said with a frown.  It pulled at his scar and made it stand out more. 

"Is a yes or no question,"  I continued.  "You can stay with Damien or Evan, or you can stay with me."

Quinn didn't respond right away.  He stared out the window a bit before pointing to me with a pencil. 

"Okay,"  I said before flopping backwards with a sigh.  "That was painful."

"Sorry,"  Quinn chocked out, curling into himself again.

"I'm not mad," I told him. 

"Let's talk about something else,"  Evan said, trying to change the topic.

~•~

"It'll be fun to have a roommate,"  I said, gently running my hands through Quinn's hair.

He just shrugged, still not talking.  I sighed. 

We were sitting in my hospital bed together.  I had my broken leg off to the side but otherwise Quinn was basically sitting in my lap.

I've learned that when Quinn's comfortable and finds someone that doesn't drain him, he can get very cuddly. And my touch starved ass doesn't really mind that.

"Wanna tell me why you don't want to press charges?"  I asked him.  "Please."

"It's just...too much drama...I don't want to have to deal with some court thing...its too much like my dad.  This is all too much like what happened with my dad.  I don't want to be in that situation again.  I know Jackson needs to be charged but I just can't.  I can't,"  He had to stop because he was shaking badly again. 

I gently pulled his hands away from where they were scratching at his arms.  He was hyperventilating now. 

"I'm sorry,"  I told him.  "You don't have to explain more."

He just nodded softly, going back to drawing and being silent. 

"Watcha drawing?"  I asked, resting my chin on his shoulder. 

He was drawing a sketch of a cat.  The cat was curled up on a wall of some sort.  The moon above it.

"That's pretty,"  I told him.  Quinn shrugged again. 

"You need to learn to take complements,"  I laughed.  "But I'm being a hypocrite, so I'll shut up."

"No, it's nice talking to someone who understands,"  Quinn mumbled.  "Don't shut up."

"Why are you really only talking to me?"  I asked.

"I don't know,"  He mumbled after having to think it over for a while. 

"Maybe same trauma?"  I suggested.  "But Damien and Evan do too."

Quinn shrugged again.  He finished his sketch and sat it to the side. 

"I think sometimes it's easier to talk to just a friend than a boyfriend,"  Quinn said. 

"I can understand that,"  I agreed.  "Are you not happy with Damien and Evan?"

"No I love them both so much, it's just, I don't know, they aren't like me,"  Quinn rambled.  "Evan's so happy and he's been able to get better and Damien has too.  I don't know, its like I can't heal.  I'm different for some reason."

"...and I'm like that too,"  I finished.  "That's why we get along so well."

"Maybe,"  He mumbled. 

"Shall we lighten the mood?"  I asked, reaching over and grabbing my phone.  "I thinks it's been well established that we're best friends, just don't tell Patton that."

Quinn actually laughed a little bit at that.  I opened up Spotify on my phone and held it to him.

"Is it okay if it isn't...our stereotypical emo music?"  He asked softly. 

"I listen to alternative stuff too, it's okay,"  I told him.

Quinn choose an alternative playlist and sat my phone back on the little bedside table.  The music started, and before long we were both singing along. 

"Let's get a cat when I move in,"  Quinn said after a while.

"I already have a cat, her names Luna,"  I told him. 

"Evan's cat is named Luna too,"  Quinn laughed. 

"That's weird,"  I laughed along.  "We'll get another cat."

"Good,"  He mumbled. 

"I can't wait,"  I said.  "Maybe things will finally start to get better for us."

"Hopefully,"  Quinn agreed.