Trigger warning: unintentional self-inflicted injury, blood, crying, anxiety attack.

Thomas's P.O.V.
I felt so at peace once Roman had finally made it home. All of my Sides were calm and content at last, and so I was too. The air suddenly felt fresher and my house cozier.

Surely, I had thought once or twice, there's nothing more than nightmares that could possibly mess this up. I have Virgil and Logan to thank for snapping me out of that mindset. Logic and anxiety combined to reassure me there are many things that could go wrong.

For example, someone could suddenly get sick. Or, as a more intense option, the kingdom could be attacked again and more people could go missing. Then there was the middle grounds of sickness and attack, mild and severe, the somewhat moderate option: a knife.

Virgil's P.O.V.
"Roman, come help me make dinner!" Patton's voice rang throughout the Mind Palace a little after five thirty, calling Roman downstairs to help make dinner. With the kids showing up, dinner was bigger and busier, and suddenly Patton, the main cook of the Palace, went from cooking for four to cooking for eight. For the first couple weeks, he was able to handle all the extra work. But he couldn't keep it up, and he finally started asking for help with dinner.

As it appeared, the day after Roman got home was his day to help. He came downstairs and Patton gave him directions on what to do. He told Roman to wash and cut the vegetables (though Logan did point out as he walked through the kitchen that solanum lycopersicons are fruits, not vegetables) and he continued seasoning the chicken he was preparing to put in the oven.

The kids were off in the Imagination together, probably hanging out with their friends in the kingdom. I was watching from the dining room table, where Logan and I were working on planning a lesson. I'm not sure why he dragged me in to it, but some way or another I ended up helping him teach one of his lessons for the kids, but this lesson had ended up being planned for right around Valentines Day. His notebooks and textbooks were spread out all across the table with some pens and pencils mixed in.

Back in the kitchen, Patton was putting the seasoned chicken onto a pan to put in the oven. Roman had just finished washing the vegetables, which was taking an oddly long amount of time, considering all the vegetables were small and in one bowl together.

"Did you hear me, Virgil?" Logan asked, getting my attention and making me realize that I had been paying more attention to Roman and Patton than him.

"Oh, uh, sorry, could you say that again?" I said.

"I need you to be in the Library of Knowledge at seven a.m. on tomorrow so that we can go over the lesson plan once more before the class begins." In my head I chuckled a little, thinking about the name the kids had given the classes: Logan's Logical Lessons.

"And Lo—uh, class ends when?" I asked.

"Two p.m., but your part of the today's lessons will should be over by ten a.m., so you may leave once you're finished. Are these plans ideal, or will they not work?"

"They're fine, it's not like I have any plans anyway." The conversation continued on for a few more minutes, Logan explaining to me the basics of the lesson I was supposed to help teach.

"Roman," Patton said nervously in the kitchen, snapping my attention away from Logan. "Are you alright? You're shaking and swaying, and you can't be doing that when you're cutting up food."

"I don't know, I feel a bit nauseous," Roman answered slowly. "I think I might be sick." Patton walked over to him and felt his forehead.

"Oh, kiddo, you've got a fever." Patton glanced around quickly, then his eyes landed on me. "Virgil, could you cut up the rest of these veggies while I take Roman up to his room? It will only be a few minutes, I promise." I nodded nervously and went to the kitchen to cut the vegetables as Patton rushed Roman—who suddenly looked upset—upstairs to his room.

Very carefully, I picked up the knife that was lying on the cutting board and started to cut a carrot into small pieces. Slowly, I cut a few vegetables, until I noticed a carrot with some mild on it that had not been washed at all. "Wash any moldy ones  and cut off the moldy parts in the sink," I remembered Patton telling Roman. Carefully, the knife and carrot in my hands, I walked over to the sink and turned it on. As soon as I turned it on, the water shot out of the bottom of the spout and hit me in the eye.

I fell backwards and hit the ground with a thud, pain shooting throughout my entire body from the ground, the water shot in my eye, and now suddenly a sharp, stabbing pain in the palm of my hand. I wanted to look and see what had happened to my hand, but as I tried to open my tightly shut eyes the pain only got worse. So I did the only thing I could think to do, and called out with whatever oxygen I had left in me.

Logan's P.O.V.
"L-Logan!" Virgil yelled, his voice echoing with fear. I stood quickly and ran into the kitchen, where Virgil was lying on the ground. His face, hair, and chest were drenched in water, and his hand was bleeding heavily. The sink was spewing water, so I ran to turn it off, then kneeled down to help Virgil. His hand, I discovered, was cut with the knife lying next to him.

"L-Logan," he stammered. "W-What..." He couldn't finish his sentence, though it appeared he was trying. He was noticeably shaking and hyperventilating.

"You cut your hand," I said. "Don't move it. I'll go get the medical supplies from the closet in a moment. First, I need you to stand up." Virgil nodded absently and winced as he sat up. I moved the knife away and helped him stand, then pressed a hand towel to his bleeding palm.

"Sit down at the table, keep that towel pressed to your hand and keep your hand elevated," I told him. "I will be back shortly." I ran upstairs to the supply closet to get bandages, but found myself standing before Patton, who was on his way back downstairs.

"Logan," he questioned. "What's wrong?"

"Virgil cut his hand," I answered, rushing past Patton to the supply closet.

"He what?!"

"Patton, please, just go downstairs and try to help him calm down while I get the supplies. Make sure he keeps his hand elevated with the towel pressed against it so that the bleeding slows." Patton nodded frantically and ran downstairs as I began sifting through the supply closet. I picked up a roll of bandages and some gauze and rushed downstairs to the bathroom.

"Alright, come over to the sink," I told him and Patton. The latter helped the wounded Side to the bathroom sink.

"Virgil, you need to hold your hand still while a run warm water over it. This will hurt, but it won't take long and will prevent the wound from being infected. Understand?" Virgil nodded, and in the bright fluorescent lighting I could very clearly see the shimmering of the water and tears on his face. The smeared eyeliner under his eyes was rolling down his face with his tears and the water still dripping, and the pale foundation completely washed away everywhere but the perimeter of his face.

Patton reached over to grab Virgil's uninjured hand with both of his as I carefully picked up the injured hand. With a small, warning wait, I turned on the water and let it run across Virgil's hand, washing away most of the blood and staining the water red. Virgil writhed in pain and more tears poured from his eyes, but somehow he managed to endure the pain long enough for me to properly wash and dry his cut.

"You holding up, kiddo?" Patton asked Virgil. There was no response, and Patton gave me a nervous look. Trying to quicken my pace, I examined the cut.

"It's not deep," I said. "But it is rather long. I'm going to put some gauze on it, then I will wrap it with bandages. Alright?" This time, Virgil nodded once again, and I began putting the gauze and bandages on his hand. By the time I finished, Virgil had calmed down enough to talk.

"Thank you," he whispered, still trying to steady his breathing.

"Come on, kiddo," Patton was telling him as he whisked him away to his room, where he could fully calm down. "Thanks, Logan!" I grinned, grateful that I had helped and pleased Virgil and Patton. Then I lowered, sullen because of how suddenly everything had gone from being just fine to chaotic.

With the strange mixture of a grin and a frown on my face, I cleaned up the kitchen, then went to put the remaining bandages and gauze back in the supply closet. As I was putting the items away, I heard a whisper some feet behind me: "four down, four to go." Then I heard a barely audible gasp and a door shutting quietly.

Cautiously, I turned around, but all I saw was an empty hallway.

A.N.
Well, what better way to kick off Pride Month than by eating Oreos while watching Love, Simon? Seriously, is there a better way? I made myself a Pride flag,and it looks terrible, but it's still a Pride flag so I guess it's okay. And that's all I have to say, so yeah. Adiós, guys, gals, and non-binary pals.