The night was a miserable one. But by the time Virgil got to Richie's he felt numb, and that was an improvement. But it was a bit later than he said, so he nudged open the door carefully not wanting to wake him if he had fallen asleep or something. Virgil had been so used to Bart always being there, watching out for him, and making him laugh, that to know that he wasn't going to be had been worse than a punch in the stomach. It was like being stabbed in the back. He'd gotten so comfortable with Bart, and Oliver that it started to feel like a family. The fact that it was falling apart was killing him. He'd dealt with it once already after his moms death when he was younger. Now to have to deal with it all over again was taxing and Virgil didn't know how much more he could take.
What if Bart did come back?..how would he accept it? Looking around for Richie who he found in a chair, still waiting up made him raise an eyebrow curiously. "You didn't have to do all this."