Starry Eyed Boy (An Analogical Fanfiction)

Beginning

Warnings: Mentions of death, death (minor character), cancer mention(?), Logans a scary boi, Virgil is a scared boy, cursing

 Virgil's mother would often tell him to draw on the walls. Virgil often asked why. Virgil's mother would always say, "To protect you from the things in the dark. The drawings you make will come to life in the dark and protect you from all the evils in the world."

When Virgil was thirteen, his friends told him it was most likely that she said that so he wouldn't be scared of the dark. Virgil's friends told him that he should stop drawing on the walls, they would say it would ruin the house and that the landlord would be furious.

When Virgil started college, he stayed at his mother's house, as the house was close enough to the school. Once his mother started to get sick, that's when he knew things were going to change.

---

Walking down a brightly lit corridor. The LED lights made his eyes hurt as he tried to hide behind his bangs, but he continued to walk. Each step he took sounded like a drum and each step felt like he was walking through molasses. He had stayed up too late studying for an exam in his astronomy course making him feel drowsy and heavy. He reached the door, room 103. He stood in front of the door, hesitating. He jumped when he heard his mother's voice.

"Kid, come on in, I'm not infectious." Her voice sounded tired, strained even. He sighed as he pushed the door open. He paused in the doorway, looking at her frail form in the bed. Her body had a thin, sickly, malnourished look. He could see her eyes as he moved closer to the chair next to her bed. Her brown eyes looked glazed and distant. Her lips were chapped. She titled her head as he sat down in the chair, it creaked under his weight.

"...Hey, Ma."

"Hi, baby." Her thick country accent flowing through the two words. His lips turned slightly.

---

The conversation had started slowly but ended rather quickly. His mother suddenly felt tired, her breath was labored, and she had refused the water Virgil had tried to help her drink. While Virgil was getting ready to leave, his mother said something he had heard a thousand times before.

"Don't forget the drawings, kid. You ain't allowed to miss me if you forget your drawings. You have so much to stay here for, so all you got to do is keep on drawing."

"I only have you here, Mama. I don't have much else." She only gave him a sad smile and he was on his way. Later that night, he would get a call saying his mother had died in her sleep.

---

Only after three years, moving three different houses and apartments, losing contact with the few friends he had, and graduating college with an astronomy degree, did he forget what his mother told him. The first night in his fourth apartment, he forgot to draw something. He fell asleep before he remembered.

---

Virgil woke up around five am. He stretched and yawned before glancing around his room and flicking the lamp on. He jumped when he saw a tall man standing at the foot of the bed. He shot up against the headboard and hit his head while doing so. He tried to scream but nothing left his throat.

"Do be careful, you could hurt yourself if you act irrationally." The man said, a robotic tone filling the tense atmosphere.

"Who- who are you? What are you doing here?" Virgil stammered, sinking impossibly further into the wooden headboard.

"So, he was right. Figures, he usually is," the man mumbled to himself, looking off to the side before looking back at Virgil. "Pardon my intrusion. Your father has been waiting for a very long time to see you again. He is a busy person, so instead, he sent me. My name is Logan. Logan Croft." The man held out his hand, stepping fully into the light. Virgil's eyes widened in shock. The man- Logan, he had stars in his eyes. He literally had stars in his eyes.

The sclera, the iris, and the pupil where all melded together, it looked like the components didn't exist. His eyes where shades of blue, purple, and black, overlaid with hundreds of small specks, that Virgil knew where stars. While Virgil was staring, he could swear that he saw a shooting star shoot past both eyes.

Virgil didn't feel scared. He felt uncomfortable, yes, but not scared, not anymore, so he took the man's hand after snapping out of his trance. Virgil was half convinced this was a fever dream and that he'd wake up any second now.

"I'm V-Virgil. Sanders. V. Sanders." Virgil stumbled and quickly let go of Logan's hand.

"Yes, I know who you are. Your father-"

"My who-now? My dad's dead, I never knew him."

Logan gave a quizzical look, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He shook his head and continued.

"Your father is very much alive and well. He is most likely not who you expect him to be, however." Logan explained slowly. "You can relax, sir, I mean you no harm. I'm under no order to cause harm, and even then, it is against my nature to do so."

"Nature? What? I still don't- I don't understand what's happening." Virgil said, more confidently, leaning forward. "And please don't call me sir. I'm only twenty-five."

"Your mother did not explain much to you, did she?" Logan said, almost sadly.

"What, about weird shit happening? Like a random guy showing up at five am, in my own home, saying my dad's alive and stuff? No, she didn't, I'm afraid."

"Yes, a bad move on my part, but you see, he was in a rush to see you- to meet you. He and your mother never got along well. She took you away from him, mostly to spite him." Logan stated, pushing up the glasses resting on his nose. "There is quite a lot more. I doubt you will go anywhere unless you know everything." Virgil paused at his matter of fact- and quite true- statement. Virgil slowly nodded.

Logan sighed, nodding. When he looked up, Virgil could see the glint of exasperation and amusement swimming in the other man's eyes, even with his starry eyes.

"I'm guessing this is going to take a while, huh?" Virgil asked, Logan, nodded. "You can sit down at the end of the bed." Virgil said, and Logan did.

"Let's start with the beginning." Logan said.