(TW-Implied mental health issues, scratching.)

Logan's (pov)

I closed Patton door, looking to the others who had gathered around his room. "As far as I can tell he'll recover. He can't double die after all." They all nodded, though each still looking worried.

"Ok, ok. But why? He just collapsed for gods sake. Was it something to do with his old tuberculosis or..." Thomas trailed off gesturing towards me. "I don't know. I'll be honest and say that I have a theory about us all. A theory that we're all somehow connected and that Thomas, you, are somehow the key to helping us pass over. I understand if you do not believe me but it's the best I can do." Once again they looked among one another trying to figure something out. But never said anything. So I spoke up. "I'm going back to my office for the night. Good evening to you all." I walked through the gap between Thomas and Virgil, only for Virgil to grab my arm. "I understand that's all well and good but....but that stuff before? Did you mean it?" I didn't even have to turn back to know they were all staring daggers into me. "Absolutely." I snatched back my own arm and walked through my own door.

Roman's (pov)

As Logan ran back to his room, Thomas shrugged us off and headed for his own. "I'll see you lot later. Don't stay up too late or whatever ghosts do." He waved.

This left Virgil and I together. We never really got along. Youngest and oldest, certainly an odd pair. "Roman?" He asked. I turned my attention to the hooded boy, I'll never admit it but I love how he looks. I could never get away with that. "Yes, my chemically imbalanced romance?" He chuckled, so I did read his so called 'merch' right. "What Patton said do you think he meant it too? D-do you think they should get therapy?" His voice wavered as he spoke, clearly uncertain of something. "Well I don't know. It seemed like he wasn't entirely focused to be honest. I know your fond of him so it's best you ask him and not me." Then it hit me.

"Why are you asking me anyway?" I rubbed my neck nervously as I awaited his response. Hopefully this won't end in an insult. "I guess because you're the only one on the fence. You don't really seem to care about those people but you don't hate them. Right?" He finally looked me in the eye, his own looking to hold back a waterfall as he scratched his sleeved arm. "I..." I trailed off my eyes looking down to the marks around his neck, thick red bruises around his neck. "I don't. I don't hate them! I know I may literally be the most fashioned but I'm certainly not against them. Considering~" "Considering what?" He asked desperately, hand, trying to tear a hole in his arm. I stepped forward, taking his hand in mine as I stared down at him.

"Considering I'm one of them."