First Published: August 29th 2017

Pairing: none

Genre: angst

Word Count: 622

Warnings: vaguely suicidal thoughts but not really

Summary: If Thomas truly wants something, Morality, as his heart, was obliged to get it.

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It started during the Growing Up video. As he was being talked down upon, Morality had felt a phantom tug, the kind of feeling he got whenever Thomas wanted something. It usually happened whenever Roman inspired Thomas to achieve some kind of ambition, but why now? What could possibly form out of the constant insults that were being pegged Morality's way?

What on earth did Thomas want?

By the end of the video, the emotion was gone. However, Morality didn't feel... right. The title of Morality didn't fit him as well as it had twenty minutes ago either. So, he told Thomas to call him Patton. Sure, he was still Thomas' moral compass, but he knew he had to be more if he were to be as beneficial to the host as the others.

The tugging never left Patton's mind though. Why had it happened? What did Thomas need? Why didn't he know?

However, it remained a distant memory for the following months, never developing into anything more. (It was bound to come back eventually. Patton should've expected it. Maybe then he'd have been prepared.)

Thomas was having a bad day night week.

The sides had been gearing up for it, being the anniversary of the breakup. They just didn't know it would be particularly painful this year for some strange reason.

Thomas spent his days moping on the couch with a tub of ice cream, occasionally retreating to his bedroom, kitchen or bathroom as necessary. It was hell. The four sides (well, mostly Logan) had ruled up a timetable for them to follow on who would check on Thomas when. They comforted him as best as they could – even Anxiety was laying off of him.

It should've been peaceful. Instead, it was just plain sad. And, for Thomas' heart, excruciating.

The tug was there front and centre, never leaving Patton once. His chest was burning up from the inside and he was sure his lungs were going to burst from the sobs he held in. Patton couldn't find a shred of happiness anywhere, but still, he put up an act and smiled and laughed and pretended. He was simply a dancer on a stage that no one cared enough to watch.

Sighing, Patton realised it was almost time for his shift with Thomas to start. He sunk down and heard Logan's steady monotone discussing something with him. It was probably something important, so Patton kept quite in the shadows. It took a while for him to focus enough to actually distinguish the words.

"Listen, Thomas, I know you're grieving, but you can't spend the rest of your life on the couch."

"Try me," the other mumbled, moving to put another spoonful of the sweet into his mouth.

Logan snatched the utensil away. "You know you can't. Since you refuse to call one of your friends to help – which, according to my research, is the most effective way to deal with breakups rather than listening to yourself – I've come up with another solution. I believe I know who is responsible for your mood."

This information actually got Thomas to glance up. "Who?"

The logical side merely raised an eyebrow.

"Patton," Thomas whispered, eyes widening and back straightening.

Patton stopped listening. Suddenly the ache in his chest increased tenfold, and that's when he knew. It was so obvious now, he wondered why he didn't realise it before. He was sure if one of the others were in his situation, they would've known almost immediately.

Thomas wanted him gone.

That hurt. It hurt a lot, but Patton's main duty was to do what Thomas wanted. To do what would make Thomas happy.

And if this was what would help him... then so be it.