Work Text:
The blank spaces in time had always been a part of Thomas’s life. HE honestly couldn’t remember a time when he did not suddenly loose a chunk of time – which could be seen as ironic. He had learned ways to deal with this though, always wearing a watch that told the date and time which he would constantly check, and when he found time ha gone missing, he’d write it down. He had begun to learn the patterns of this lost time, for example; in English class in high school, or during P.E.
Of course, this scared him a little, it seemed that no one else experienced this. As a kid, he thought it was normal but when he bought it up to people they only gave him weird looks. So he kept quiet. Besides, there was no harm done, right?
It was when he started hearing and seeing things, that when he got concerned. It started with dialogues in his head, then progressed to visual hallucinations, four people each looking almost exactly like him but with wildly different personalities.
He didn’t think they were dangerous. But this wasn’t normal. He wasn’t normal. It had taken years, years of seeking medical help from different specialists, years of being called a liar and being frowned at. Years until he had a name for it, Dissociative Identity Disorder. At first he had been in shock, he had seen the horror movies and the sensationalized news reports. Surely he wasn’t like that.
His specialist had helped him come to a better understanding of his condition, explaining, “In my 20 years of working with alters, I’ve never once felt threatened. Don’t worry.”
That what they were, alters, altered states of consciousness, all him but all not him. Different people inside him. The blank spaces of time , that when they were appearing. The visual hallucinations, not common but not unheard of apparently.
He had been told he needed to communicate with his alters, find out what they wanted, who they were, in order to function in a much easier way. It had taken some time, but he began to learn and understand his alters, his sides.
He was Thomas Sanders, and he had Dissociative Identity Disorder; that's okay.
Patton hummed and swayed to an imaginary beat, he was cooking dinner for everyone… Normally in the physical world that meant dinner for one, but Thomas was having some of his friends over and well, he had begged Patton to cook for him. And how could Pat say no?
A knock at the door signified someone’s arrival and startled Patton out of his humming.
“It’s open!” He yelled hoping his voice would carry through the apartment door, he couldn’t really leave the kitchen for the next five minutes lest the carrots burn.
“Hey!” Oh, it was Joan! Patton freaking loved Joan, but then again Patton loved all of Thomas’s friends. Don’t get that phrasing wrong It wasn’t like they weren’t Patton’s friends as well, sometimes it just made it easier to keep that separation. Not always though.
“I’m in the kitchen kiddo!” He continued to sauté the carrots, loving the aroma they gave off in the herbs and spices he had paired them with.
“Oh hey Pat, I thought this is Thomas’s night?” Joan leaned against the doorframe, “ I mean I’m happy to see ya’ man, I just thought you guys had a big thing on routine.”
“Oh yeah we do, but Thomas asked me to cook tonight for everyone, and you know me! Oh can ya hand me that bowl with the tomatoes?”
Once Joan had passed over the bowl and Patton had mixed it in with te spiced carrots, he placed it over a low heat and let it simmer. Whipping his hands on a nearby tea towel, Patton turned back to Joan smiling.
“What’s up kiddo? You’re looking a bit down..”
Joan scrubbed their faced, sighing a little as they walked over towards the living room, dropping unceremoniously onto the couch. “I’m fine Pat, just didn’t sleep very well, that's all.”
“Well whenever I’m feeling tired, I like to use my phone and download a nap.”
Face cracking into a smile, Joan snorted. They had to say Patton’s stupid jokes never failed to lift their mood. They turned around to respond with another pun but stopped when they saw Patton’s eyes were out of focus.
He swayed on his feet and blinked rapidly for a few seconds, hand coming upward to brush his hair from his eyes.
“Oh Joan, you’re early.” Thomas smiled sitting down next to his friend.
“Oh hey, Thomas.”