If at any point in this story you start to feel triggered or overwhelmed, please stop reading.  Don't force yourself to continue - be kind to yourself <3

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Point of View: Roman, First Person
Timeline: Present Day

When Virgil finally ran out of tears, I let go - grabbing the tipped over green box of tissues on his bed.  I handed the box to him and Virgil mouthed a silent 'thank you' in response.

"... do you want to get out here? Clear your head a little?" I tried.  "Patton's worried sick.  I think that it would really help him to see you," I encouraged lightly.

Virgil didn't say anything, but didn't argue - getting to his feet.  I held Virgil's hand tightly as we made our way downstairs.  Patton cried out at the sight of us, almost falling off the couch in his scramble to get across the living room.  He reached forward, as if to wrap his arms around his friends, but stopped abruptly - quickly stopping before folding his hands in front of him.  Instead of his usual blue polo and cat hoodie, he was instead in a light gray suit and his eyes behind his glasses were red and puffy, probably from crying.

"Hiya, Virge," Patton whispered, giving Virgil a half-smile.  That's about all he's been able to muster lately.  "The -" Patton's words cut off, and he had to stop.  His eyes dropped to the floor and he took a deep breath before trying to speak again.  "The viewing is today... do you think that you'll want to go?"

Virgil shook his head almost frantically, hands squeezing tighter around mine.  I winced a bit at the pain, but didn't say anything.  "I can't - I - no, no I don't want that memory," he managed.  "I don't want that memory."

Patton wasn't mad.  "Okay.  Hey, hey," Patton whispered softly as Virgil started crying again.  "You don't have to go, you don't have to go..."

"If - If I go, then it's real again," Virgil cried out, tearing his hand from mine in favor of gripping tightly onto his bright purple hair.  "If I go, then that means he's actually gone..."

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