Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Well,” Janus started, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Seems like things worked out after all,” Here it comes, he thought, another round of the Blame Game. “Guess I was wrong about everything,” It didn’t matter that they had just come to some sort of understanding; after years of passing the buck between them, Janus was awfully accustomed to Patton saying his input was wrong -- Especially in a situation like this, where evolving circumstances made his advice seem moot.

“You and I both know …” Patton’s soft voice interrupted Janus’ bitterness. The tone caught him off guard, though as far as he knew, the sentence would end in a crushing you’re wrong. It was best not to get his hopes up, but the silence dragged on too long, and Janus’ defenses fell with his racing thoughts. “That’s not true,” Patton finished finally and Janus couldn’t help but to look over at the wistfully pensive expression that accompanied Patton’s admission. Perhaps it was just a sense of victory he felt, but humorlessly, his lips reciprocated.

“Is that--” Janus began only to be comedically interrupted by the vagrant and imaginative impression of Leslie Odom Jr. With a heavy sigh, the specter was dismissed and the sounds of Thomas with his friends began to fill the apartment.

Awkwardly, Janus and Patton stood next to each other. Sidelong, Janus caught Patton’s expression softening as Thomas laughed loudly at something Lee just said.

“Well, even if things did work out,” Janus started again, chin raised like he expected a fight. Patton blinked and turned his head, wearing a curious expression as though he had actually been content standing in silence together. “You should still consider what Logan and I said today.”

“Oh, well, yeah,” Patton said like that was a given. The sentence trailed off in an unusual and nervous way that made it feel like he had more to say, but more never came. Janus resigned himself to being content with that. Patton had seen the repercussions of his actions; there was little more he could do now besides press the issue when need be.

“Good,” He paused, nodding slightly. Speaking of Logan, the thought crossed his mind that he should check on him, given how their bargain had gone. “At any rate, I suppose I’ll … see you another time.”

Patton forced a smile, pulling at the fabric of his shirt anxiously. “Yeah! See you around, Jan,” The old nickname slipped out and Patton cleared his throat.

A week later, Patton squeaked an, “Oh,” as he walked into the Light Side kitchen. “Hiya, Janus,” He greeted in a pitchy, nervous voice. A weird feeling blossomed in his stomach and he thought he might be getting sick.

“Hello, Patton,” Janus gave a half-lipped smile as he finally reached into the fridge, having stood here for the better part of an hour.

“Didn’t expect to see you over here,” Patton’s anxiety was evident; just holding the cup he had come to place into the sink was a gamble given how shaky his hands were suddenly. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, just peachy,” He responded sweetly, tipping the freshly retrieved carton of milk into his now cold cup of tea. “We were just out of milk you see,” He explained, holding the carton up as evidence before sliding it back into the fridge.

“Oh, okay,” Well, that made sense, as long as Patton didn’t think about it too hard. Brushing his hip against the counter on the far side of the kitchen, Patton placed his cup into the sink and promptly turned back around. “Well if that’s all, I’ll--”

“There was one more thing actually,” Janus interrupted, absentmindedly opening a drawer to borrow a spoon. He turned to face Patton, expression unreadable. “Just while I have you here, of course.”

“S-sure!” Patton stuttered. “What’s on your mind?” He gripped the lip of the counter he leaned against, knuckles soon going white.

“Well I was just wondering,” Janus continued slowly as he stirred his tea unnecessarily. “If you had any, oh I don’t know;” his tongue clicked with a shallow, one shouldered shrug. “Dilemmas, problems, maybe some quandaries of poor Thomas’ that you needed to … bounce ideas around for?”

Patton gulped and quickly shook his head. The lively feeling in his stomach suddenly felt unpleasantly warm. “Nope!” He laughed humorlessly as he pushed himself forward and started to stumble backwards out of the kitchen. “None at all! Thomas has, hah, Thomas has been doing just great lately! No problems here!” The air sweetened and Janus lost his appetite for his overly sugared cup of tea. “If that’s all--”

“Yes, yes, whatever then,” Janus raised the spoon out of his cup and waved it dismissively with a sigh, flicking drops of tea on the floor.

Patton hopped the last two steps out of the kitchen and was hardly down the hall when he heard a new voice. High pitched and nasally, it was unmistakably the Duke’s. Patton’s body froze in fear.

“Janny! What’s taking you so long?” Janny? Patton questioned internally. That’s … actually kind of a cute nickname…

“Remus,” Janus sounded annoyed and surprised. “I told you to wait.”

“I was waiting! For like, a whole hour! How long does it take to get milk?” The frustration in Remus’ voice grew and Patton’s brows furrowed. An hour? Janus was … in their kitchen for an hour?

“However long it takes,” Janus mumbled and Patton got the sense he wasn’t talking about getting milk anymore. Suddenly the clattering sound of Janus carelessly tossing his teacup into the sink rang in his ears; until then, Patton didn’t realize how hard he was listening, or how quickly his heart was beating. He squeaked, too loudly, and then the voices in the kitchen stopped as he threw a hand over his mouth.

“Who the fu--” Remus abruptly stopped. Patton’s ears twitched, going red. He could almost make out the sound of a whisper. Fear set adrenaline lose in his blood and he silently sank out.

Later that month, Patton and Roman sat on the couch, watching some show together. Between Roman becoming distracted with the notebook in his lap and Patton dreamily staring out the window, neither of them really knew what was happening on screen; but that much didn’t really matter. Patton enjoyed sitting there, listening to Roman’s scribbles, and Roman enjoyed not being holed up in his room, burning his candle at both ends. It was a pleasant afternoon, for all intents and purposes.

“I’m going to grab a Coke,” Roman said with a stretch, setting his notebook aside. “You want one?”

“Huh?” Patton blinked, “Oh yeah, sure. Thanks!” He said with a typical smile.

The cushions had hardly risen from Roman’s absence before the couch was jostled again. “That was fas--” Patton started before registering who had actually taken Roman’s place. “Oh, J-Janus, hello,” His voice hitched and the television suddenly felt muted.

“Hello, darling,” Janus greeted warmly, an arm over the back of the couch.

“What’s up?” Patton questioned, taking a deep breath. Nerves wracked his stomach familiarly and a warmth made the back of his neck itch. “Everything alright?”

“Splendid, of course, thank you,” Janus charmed and paused. With curiosity, he reached for Roman’s notebook between them.

“Oh, you shouldn--” Patton started but it was too late; Janus had flipped open the cover and started admiring the haphazard yet beautiful doodles on the first page.

“So I was thinking,” Janus began, thumbing to another page. His eyes glazed over the curly cursive writing. Patton glanced anxiously behind Janus; if Roman walked in right now… “Have you noticed anything … off about our dear Thomas lately?”

“Off?” Patton echoed. He tried to think; ever since the reconciliation he had with Lee and Mary-Lee, things had been … better. Patton had been trying to lay off of reacting to things so quickly and he thought he was doing well with it. “N-no, I don’t think anything specific’s been wrong,” He surmised slowly. “Why do you ask?” Had Janus noticed something he didn’t? His stomach tightened uncomfortably now.

“Just wondering is all,” He dismissed with a curt smile. A pause ensued and Patton could hear Roman hum-singing to himself in the kitchen. Janus placed his palm on the couch and stared at Patton from under his lashes after a moment. “Though that brings up an interesting question, don’t you think?” His voice was low and provocative. Patton had to listen closely to hear anything at all, which made him lean towards Janus unconsciously. He felt like a useless fly; did that make Janus something dangerous? Something that’d burn him or swallow him up if he got too close?

“D-does it?” Patton stuttered, trying to keep his voice as quiet as Janus’. Admittedly, he wasn’t exactly following; too paranoid about Roman coming back, too nervous about what Janus was about to say, too flustered from suddenly being this close. Butterflies cut up the inside of his stomach.

“Mhmmmm,” Janus exaggerated, “Tell me,” He batted his eyes and Patton’s cheeks warmed. “Would you even let me know if something was wrong? ... Would you let me help in that case?”

Patton’s mouth opened like he had a response immediately, but no words followed; only a rush of warm air that blew sweetly in Janus’ face. He didn’t have an answer to that question, and thankfully, he wouldn’t need one.

“One Coke for the Marvelous Morality~” Roman sang as he rounded the kitchen corner, two filled glasses in his hands.

Patton blinked and Janus was gone, making him wonder if he had imagined the entire thing. Roman slid the drinks onto the coffee table and plopped heavily back on the couch with a gruff sound. Patton straightened his back as Roman reached for his notebook.

“Hm?” Roman’s brow furrowed, “Did you open this, Pat?” Patton struggled with his words for a second before Roman laughed. “If you wanted to read what I was working on, you could’ve just asked! Here,” Roman flipped through the pages, ignorant to the dumbfounded expression on Patton’s face, “I’ll read this much to you, but prepare yourself; it’s a little rough,” Roman said with grandeur before clearing his throat several times.

If asked, Patton couldn’t recall what Roman had read to him then. Janus’ words kept repeating in his ears until Patton was so dizzy, he felt faint.

The warm month of May shifted impatiently towards the sweltering Flordian heat of June. Even as the sun set, the summer continued to loom with heavy, humid air. Realizing that the apartment showed no signs of cooling off any time soon, Patton went to his room with the intent of changing into something lighter than his usual khakis. His heart stopped and all traces of a coherent thought process came to an abrupt halt, however, as he spotted someone on his bed.

“Oh hello, dear,” Janus purred as though this was a chance meeting. He was lounging back, head resting against Patton’s pillow, one leg crossed over the other. His hat was placed on his stomach, revealing a crooked hairline that seemed to be pushed back by the encroaching scales on the left side of his face; a sight Patton had caught glimpses of by now, but not one he was altogether familiar with.

“J-Janus!” Patton managed through the shock, a hand clutched the fabric of his shirt at his chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack!” He panted, forcing himself to take a gasping, deep breath.

“Apologies,” Janus offered a half smile, but hadn’t yet looked at Patton for more than a glance. Instead, he was focused on flipping through the rectangle shaped memories in his hands. Patton recognized them, once he gathered his senses enough to register the scene fully.

“You ... came to look at those?” Patton assumed, leaning to the side with a raised chin to peer at the one Janus was now staring at. It was an old memory that had begun to go grayscale at the edges. From Patton’s point of view like all of them, it showed Janus; smug at all of ten years old in an oversized hat that fell lopsided on his head. He looked as smart as any actual lawyer might as they won their case. Janus could tell Patton had been smiling when this memory became dear enough to actualize here, in his room.

“In a way,” Janus admitted. Unlike prior conversations, his voice was soft and now he, too, wore a rather endeared smile -- at least for a silent moment, as they both appreciated the memory. Soon he sighed and flipped to the next. The color of this one was vibrant and tinged in an idealistic, soft pink; the color of a schoolboy’s blush. Janus, now perhaps thirteen, reached over with a puzzle piece in hand. It was one of the last few Patton needed to finish the border he had been working on all afternoon. He remembers having begun tearing up, frustrated at not being able to complete something like that. But then Janus walked in. He had simply blinked between Patton’s watery eyes and the pile of pieces, sat down, and began to rifle through them for a moment before locating the one Patton needed. He pressed it into place easily and smiled. It hadn’t been his usual egotistical or knowing smile. It was one that made Patton’s little teenage heart race.

Janus sighed with finality and placed the pile of memories on Patton’s bedside table. As he sat on the edge, he put his hat back on. “Mostly I wanted to see if my own memories lined up,” Janus said as he stood, busying himself with adjusting his clothing. “You’ve been so obstinate lately, I had begun to think we never worked well together.”

Patton’s heart sank and so did his head. “We used to,” He whispered at the floor.

“We did,” Janus said, bittersweetness on his tongue. He shrugged and took slow steps around Patton. “It’s a shame you won’t just let us be like that again,” Janus shrugged a flimsy wrist, sounding mockingly disheartened. “But,” He amended as he reached the door behind Patton. “You’ve had everything handled without me for years now, so,”

“Yeah,” Patton agreed, instantly regretting how loud his voice was. “I have had everything handled! This whole time!” He spun around and Janus’ hand froze on the doorknob. “Without you! and now you’re trying to be around, acting like we can just go back to how it was, assuming that the others will just -- just -- get over it or something,” Patton’s voice gained an exasperated and humored edge despite finding absolutely none of this funny. “Roman nearly had a breakdown at just the idea of trusting you! Virgil can’t be in the same room with you! I just -- I don’t,” Patton’s anger began to fizzle out into despair.

His breathing caught up with him, now heavy and quick. The hand that had been pointing with accusation at Janus’ back fell with the intent of gripping his shoulder, but as though Janus saw that coming, he pulled away.

“I see,” He said, after a silent moment with an unreadable tone. “You have a lot to worry about,” Janus released the door knob. “Don’t let me keep you then,” and as fast as Patton could blink, Janus was gone.

One night, a little over a week later, Patton couldn’t sleep no matter what he did. Supposing he deserved a cookie for his trouble, he wandered into the kitchen, only to find the light already on. He froze and blinked sleepy eyes at the scene; was that … Janus? and Logan? Sitting at the small table by the bookshelf together? Patton gulped and the pair noticed him before he could digest much more.

“Patton,” Logan greeted curtly, sitting up as he seemed to notice how far over he had been leaning. “It’s late. What are you doing up?”

“Well I could say the same thing to you!” Patton joked, but his tone was off. The three sat in awkward silence and Janus busied himself with retrieving the nearly empty bottle of wine from the floor between them. “Wh--What are you guys up to?” Patton asked conversationally, pressing his knuckles together nervously.

Janus and Logan exchanged a look and Patton’s face became feverish. He had never felt so terribly out of place before. He shifted on his feet, realizing how uncomfortable his skin was.

“Well if you must know,” Janus answered, refilling Logan’s glass before meeting Patton’s eyes. His gaze was lidded, knowing, and it set Patton on fire. “We’re trying to find a solution to a problem you insist doesn’t exist.”

“Oh now, that can’t be true!” Patton objected eagerly, taking a half step forward only to receive a dubious expression from Logan.

“And why’s that?” Janus asked as he refilled his own glass. “Because you know everything?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm and wine. Janus could feel Logan’s gaze on him now; curious, wondering how he had gone from laughing demurely at something one moment to passive aggressively reproaching Patton the next. Janus wondered in turn what Logan would think of him for his words, but figured the judgement wouldn’t be too harsh. Patton annoyed them both most of the time. “Or because you think we’re too inept to solve anything for Thomas?”

Patton’s hands shook as they anxiously balled fists in the fabric of his shirt. Why would Janus say something so mean? His stomach twisted into intricate knots. Is that how Janus thought he felt? Did he really think Patton thought he was inept? His eyes stung as he stared at the ground. He couldn’t cry here, that’d just add more shame to this horrific, nightmarish moment.

“N-neither, really,” Patton whispered, not trusting his voice to be any louder.

“Why then?” Janus pressed insistently, staring Patton down with hands folded atop the haphazard papers. Logan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. This felt like a grotesque mockery of their court scenario the other day...

Patton sniffled quietly, trying to keep from snotting all over himself. “I didn’t realize anything was wrong…” His voice pitched and broke with the effort he extended to keep from sobbing on the spot. How awful it was, to be misinterpreted this gravely, to not have the words to explain himself, to think Janus hated him for not knowing how to ask for forgiveness.

Janus swallowed a lump in his throat and forced himself to roll his eyes. “Well that’s your mistake then,” He mumbled, sitting back in his chair. As he reached for his freshly poured glass of wine, Logan hesitantly pressed feather-light fingers against his sleeve.

“I think that’s enough,” Logan whispered without much tact before looking back at Patton. “We were almost finished here. The kitchen is all yours in a few moments,” Janus scornfully met his serious gaze and soon clicked his tongue. This time, his eye roll was genuine.

“Yeah sure,” Janus snarked to no one in particular as he stood. “Let’s leave it all to Patton. As usual.”

“Thank you all for joining us today,” Logan began professionally, briskly meeting everyone’s eyes.

“Yes, thank you all so much for taking the time out of your very busy schedules,” Janus snarked in good humor from his position next to Logan; an easel with a balanced poster board stood between them. The information on the board was utilitarian in design; flat colors with thick black lines. Altogether, it was very easy to read and especially clear that Janus, with all his dramatic flair, didn’t have a single hand involved in the writing of it.

“Sure thing,” Patton interjected from his usual spot near the sliding glass door. He raised a finger like one would raise their hand in class. “But uh, I’m a little confused. What’s this all about?”

“I’m glad you asked, Patton,” Logan began, immediately getting cut off by Virgil, who had shoved himself in the very corner of the stairway.

“This is a waste of time, why am I here? I have nothing to do with stuff like this,” he gestured at the poster board, clearly not actually reading anything written there.

“You’re here so we can get your input,” Logan gestured between Patton, Roman, and Remus, who seemed to be fidgeting with some wires behind the television, “Along with everyone else’s.”

“I say let him go if he wants to,” Janus mumbled cynically, adjusting his capelet. “He’s not at all capable of providing helpful feedback.”

“You mean I don’t feed your ego,” Virgil replied bitterly with a scowl. His mouth opened to continue but no sound was produced as Logan met his eyes expectantly. Virgil sighed and shifted stubbornly against the wall. “But fine. If Logan has something to say, I guess I’ll listen. For a bit.”

“Thank you, Virgil,” Logan said, offering a small smile.

At some point during Virgil and Janus’ bickering, the twins began to argue. The quarrel increased in volume and Janus cleared his throat.

“Darling?” Janus called, brows and chin raised. Remus’ head poked up from behind the television; black, blue, and red wires were between his lips like thick spaghetti noodles. Roman crossed his arms with a loud huff and a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Care to clue me in on what’s going on over there?”

Using his tongue, Remus maneuvered the wires to the right side of his mouth. “Roboat thinks he can stop me from eating these wires,” He explained with his mouth full. Janus scrunched his nose delicately and shook his head.

“Leave their wires alone, dear,” Remus deflated and opened his lips, letting the spit-soaked things fall out and back onto the floor. Patton went visibly queasy at the display, pulling at the hem of his shirt nervously.

“Okay,” Remus pouted exaggeratedly.

Janus turned and smiled pleasantly at Logan, who adjusted his glasses with a hint of exasperation, though both Janus and Remus knew the irritation was only ever meant with fondness for the Duke.

“If we’re ready to begin,” Logan started and everyone fell begrudgingly silent. “For several weeks now, Janus and I hav--”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Virgil interrupted, sitting up again and waving his hands hastily. “You and Deceit have been talking for weeks now?” Patton chewed his lip and tried to look at anything but the inevitable fight currently breaking out.

“Hey, yeah!” Roman agreed, pointing in Logan and Janus’ direction. Anger creased his expression. “I haven’t even seen that Sneaking Snob around here at all! Wouldn’t we have noticed if he was stalking around here like some B movie villain?”

“Maybe you would have if you were more perceptive,” Janus mumbled to himself, looking busily down at his gloved hand as though to inspect his nails. Remus snickered and whispered an oooo, like Roman had just gotten called to the principal's office.

“I’m plenty perceptive, thank you, Boa Bitch-stricter,” Roman dropped his arm heatedly.

The bickering continued for several more minutes, insults flying towards Janus from both Virgil and Roman. He took them in stride, giving his own snide and sarcastic comments back that only served to fuel both of their tempers. Patton’s nerves grew with each passing second; he shifted on his feet, pushed his knuckles together, debated sinking out silently but figured he’d better not cause more tension than there already was. Eventually, Logan spoke up above the roar.

“If you would all just listen,” He said, managing to gain everyone’s attention. “I promise we’ll be through in just a few minutes,” Everyone mumbled a respective, incoherent comment each as they shuffled and settled back to their original positions. Remus gave a cheer in support of Logan, which was followed by a whispered curse and apology as the latter gave a pointedly serious look.

To a silent and mostly attentive room, Logan explained what he and Janus had been discussing and planning for the last two months. Thomas’ financial situation, they all agreed, wasn’t spectacular. To that end, Logan had asked the newly accepted Janus if he had any ideas or solutions. Despite Janus’ surprise at being asked for input (and being considered ‘accepted’ at this point), he offered to go over the issue in detail with Logan; something none of the others had done to date. Over late nights of tasteful wine and the occasional dinner beforehand, they had crunched numbers, mapped solutions, and thought up lists of pros and cons to a multitude of different fixes.

Hearing this, gears clicked into place for Patton; the time he had stumbled on them late at night made a lot more sense now. Though even with the explanation, Patton’s stomach continued to knot painfully. He would really rather not recall that moment. It was filled with such shame and guilt and suspicion, he almost refused to believe it had even happened.

“And so after all that,” Logan approached the end of his explanation, “We settled on a very reliable and doable solution; Thomas and his team should, by all means, open up a Patreon.”

The audience’s eyes went wide as they stared at each other. The fact that the numbers had gone over their heads was clear on their faces, but the conclusion was easy enough to understand.

“So wait,” Virgil said, sitting up slowly, “Basically, what you’re saying is, we should ask the viewers for money, for something Thomas already gives them for free?” He asked incredulously.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t provide them with a little something extra every now and again,” Janus chimed in with a flourish of his fingers and an enigmatic grin. “The amount of things Thomas keeps hidden...phew, let me tell you,” His brows raised dramatically.

“You’re considering airing out his dirty laundry? For money?” Roman interjected, tone fantastically offended. “Preposterous! Who do you think you are, treating Thomas’ classified secrets like they’re some measly prince being sold for ransom!”

“Like that isn’t what our series is already based on?” Janus asked skeptically. Roman fell silent after a few sputtered and disjointed, rather useless words. “The point is,” Janus continued after a moment, meeting everyone’s eyes seriously now. “Thomas can’t afford to keep making videos if we don’t do something. I know you’re all against me, but you could at least extend the courtesy of considering it for Logan.”

Again the room became hushed, but only for a moment before Remus decided to speak up.

“It’s a great idea. Lolo! But I think he could make even more money if he did an OnlyFans!” Remus said too loudly for the room’s atmosphere. Patton flinched and grimaced distastefully, beginning to regret not making a bigger fuss about letting the Duke attend this meeting.

“No one asked you,” Roman snarked, turning slightly to glare at his brother.

“Actually,” Logan interrupted, “We did ask him, all of you,” He gestured with an open palm. “We’re asking you to consider it, as Janus said. No big decision needs to be made right now, even if I don’t quite understand what the hold up could possibly be,” Logan glanced at Janus with a hint of aggravation, “But something bad will happen if we don’t do something.”

“Alright,” Patton said quietly, nodding. “I think we get it, so,” He looked sheepishly around the room; Roman and Virgil had perked up significantly at Patton’s words. They both clearly waited with expectant expressions for Morlaity’s opinion. The twisting in his stomach grew uncomfortably hot. “So,” He repeated before drawing in a breath through his teeth, “Why don’t we all take the night and think about it. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow after … after we’ve all had a little while to think.”

“Very well,” Logan responded immediately, almost cheerfully -- at least cheerfully for Logan’s standards. “That’s quite alright with me, though please try to be quick about it.”

Janus’ brow pinched subtly as he stared at Patton for a moment too long. Logan had called his name twice before the third reached him through his thoughts.

“Janus?”

“Oh, yes,” He cleared his throat and nodded shallowly a few times, “By all means, do drag this out.”

Logan nodded, agreeing with the true intent of Janus’ sarcastic comment as he removed the poster board from the easel. As he collapsed the set up, Patton sunk out silently; the twins began fighting again and Virgil had somehow gotten pulled into their bickering. “That went well,” Logan summarized quietly to Janus, who was still staring distractedly at the space Patton usually occupied. “You were right unfortunately,” Logan paused, waiting for Janus to respond, only continuing when he realized no immediate retort was coming. “About them needing time to think about it?”

“Huh? Oh, yes,” Janus mumbled. Logan frowned; did it not go over as well as he thought? “You have all this handled, correct?” Janus gestured vaguely at the room, taking steps away.

“I suppose…?” Logan answered slowly. He started to say something else, but Janus had already disappeared.

Janus knocked on Patton’s door three times, the sound muffled by his gloves. From his bed, Patton flinched and instinctually squeezed the pillow in his lap tighter.

“B-be right there!” Patton called out, forcing his voice to sound cheerful. He inhaled a ragged breath and scrubbed at his face with dry hands. Please let it be Roman, please let it be Roman, please let i--

“H-hey Janus,” Patton greeted, swallowing his disappointment as he opened the door.

“Hello, dear,” Janus’ voice matched the serious tone he had used in his closing statement at the meeting just a few minutes ago, though the edges of it were softened. Patton thought his brow was creased and wondered what he was worrying about. “How are you?” He asked, and Patton had a hard time believing the question was genuine.

“Oh, I’m fine!” Patton said and Janus’ mouth watered. “Was just getting ready for bed,” he gestured behind him with a thumb and hoped that was enough to deter Janus from any kind of conversation. “S-so if you really don’t mind,” He continued, taking a half step back and starting to close the door slowly. “I sure am wiped from that meeting,” Patton forced a yawn.

“I know you’re lying,” Janus said pointedly, tone deliberate and unamused as he reached a hand to stop the door in its tracks.

Patton frowned, almost pouting as he stared at the floor. Janus’ eyes were too severe just then, and meeting them made his chest hurt. The silence dragged on as Patton found himself in an impossible situation; Janus knew he wasn’t okay, but that didn’t imply he was concerned enough to hear what was on his mind. Even if Janus did want to know, Patton wasn’t sure he could manage to sound coherent. To make matters worse, if all that weren’t true and he did get his feelings across to Janus, they felt silly and inconsequential in the face of Logan and Janus’ idea. They spoke so surely, so convincingly, and all Patton had was … feelings.

“Patton,” Janus said softly, letting his hand fall from the door, “How are you?” He asked again, sounding more insistent.

“I’m,” Patton started to repeat himself again but looked up to see Janus’ face. He wore such a distressed expression, Patton almost wanted to ask if he was okay. “I’m,” He began again, voice shaking as he clutched his shirt. “I’m scared,” Patton admitted in a whisper after a long pause.

Janus’ posture relaxed with a quiet sigh. He remained silent, knowing Patton well enough to predict that he would continue of his own accord now that the dam was open.

“I’m scared that I’m doing the wrong thing, but I’m … I’m not even sure what I’m doing. I’m scared that the others will hate me if I … If I,” Patton swallowed, “If I start letting you help again. B-but I’m also scared that,” His voice quickened, gaining speed like a rushing torrent of unstoppable water. “If I don’t let you help, I’ll just keep hurting Thomas. I’m scared that Virgil will lose himself again and leave us, I’m scared that Roman won’t be able to help Thomas if--if Remus is around, I’m terrified that Remus will hurt Thomas, and,” Patton inhaled a ragged breath. When he continued, his voice was a slow whisper again. “I’m scared of you, of--of not knowing how much selfishness is just right. I know you don’t want to hurt Thomas, I do, but …” He looked up with teary eyes finally, meeting Janus’ patient gaze. “But what if we get it wrong?”

“Then we’ll fix it and get it right together,” Janus replied instantly, like he knew exactly where Patton’s words were going to end up. “Like we always have,” He affirmed calmly, his tone and expression implying that, while this conclusion was obvious, Janus didn’t mind saying it as often Patton needed to hear it.

Patton gasped and the tears in his eyes fell. Hastily he reached up to brush them away with mumbled apologies. Janus rolled his eyes and muttered a sarcastically impatient, “Come here,” as he reached to hug Patton with both arms.

“Just because you’ve done it alone all this time doesn’t mean you should continue to, darling,” he said as Patton gripped the front of Janus’ shirt, letting himself be selfishly consoled, for just a second he told himself. “You can rely on me, that’s all I’ve been trying to say,” He chastised gently. “The others will get used to it again. Thomas isn’t giving them much of a choice on that one,” His tone gained a humored edge and Patton whined softly. Janus chuckled and gave him a final squeeze before gently pushing him away with hands on his upper arms. “As for everything else,” He continued as Patton sniffled, “We’ll figure it out,” Janus said nonchalantly, with a fond smile.

“Together?” Patton whispered, his voice cracking.

“Together.”

Chapter Text

The flower shaped cookies sat mockingly on the stove, having long gone cold. Two tubs of white frosting had been placed on the counter with some food dye as well. Many times he had second guessed the unassuming vials of concentrated hue--was it too much? Just as many times he had stood, picked up a frosting container, rolled it in his hands, picked at the aluminum before convincing himself not to peel it back, not to sink his finger in, not to cope with Janus’ absence by consuming a gluttonous amount of sugar.

He’ll show, of course he would. Janus hadn’t forgotten or … ditched him like that before. Just because he was preoccupied with something beforehand doesn’t mean he was forcing himself to come, forcing himself to spend time with him, indulging him, patronizing him … Janus would never, he enjoyed stuff like this! Even if … even if it was just for the sweets.

“Oh dear,” Patton inhaled between his sugar-coated teeth, shaking his head down at the demolished tub of vanilla frosting.

“Am I interrupting?” Patton jumped, hiding the nearly empty container behind his back, looking exactly like Pooh Bear after a honey binge, Janus thought.

“Janus!” Patton greeted, a little too much excitement and anxiety in his voice. “N-no, of course not, I was just,” He faltered, glancing at the cookies like they held an easier way of saying, I was waiting for you, thanks for not breaking my heart.

“...Testing the frosting?” Janus teased, easing into the kitchen, amusement sly on his lips.

“Yeah! Something, hah, something like that.” Patton chuckled down at the floor, a shoulder shrugging as he apprehensively brought the evidence forward. He weighed it nervously in one hand before grinning at Janus. “I guess it’s a good thing we had two containers!”

“Mm,” He hummed down at his hands as he peeled his gloves off. A rare occurrence of course, but having spent plenty of time baking together, one Patton had at least slightly adjusted to. A patch of shiny scales that spread from Janus’ left knuckle up to his wrist gleamed with the movement of folding his gloves neatly on the counter. Occupied with the curiosity Patton felt observing something so … pretty, he didn’t notice Janus reaching with a bare thumb to wipe away a sizable glob of sugar from the side of Patton’s mouth until the sensation jogged him out of thought. Janus looked down at it before placing it between his own teeth. Despite the way Patton’s mouth gaped, Janus continued to delicately scrape the sugar onto his tongue. “A good thing, indeed.” He smirked at Patton, satisfied with watching the glow of his grin quickly turn into a scarlet blush.

“Y-yeah,” Patton breathed, absolutely dumbstruck as Janus turned towards the stove. Relieved at no longer being scrutinized so closely, his head fell; cool palms pressed to his burning cheeks and a ragged breath was pulled in as quietly as he could manage. Dully he registered the sound of bowls being placed on the counter, but they didn’t make sense through the ringing in his ears. His thoughts raced in circles as he tried to decode the meaning behind that flirtatious gesture. Patton wasn’t stupid of course, but he was an expert at assuming far too much of others’ words and actions; a pro at falling in love with basic kindness. The habit made him think at least four times over about everything ever since Thomas’ last heart crushing break up. Janus had to know that, right? And if he did, that made him really mean, didn’t it? Why then, did Patton enjoy it so much?

“...cold now, the frosting will be easier, right?” Janus paused for Patton to answer, setting the dye vials next to some arbitrarily chosen bowls. When the other didn’t respond, Janus turned just as Patton’s hands fell in a cartoonish motion. Janus caught the action in a blur, shaking his head back with a quirked brow. Patton blinked, eyes wide before catching up to the moment.

“Y-yeah, yes!” He nodded, again too eagerly, and assumed his position at the stove next to Janus. “Wonderful,” Janus clapped his hands softly together at his chest. “This should be easy then,” He observed as he turned his head to smile at Patton in a way that had red climbing up his neck again.

Patton forced himself to inhale through his teeth and focus on the moment instead of how close they were standing.

“Thanks for getting the bowls,” Patton reached to place the vial of yellow dye in one before handing it to Janus. Reaching for a bowl of his own, Patton realized he didn’t know which color he wanted to start with. There were so many to choose from! Patton tapped his chin as Janus took the remaining tub of frosting. The signature sound of the aluminum being pulled back accompanied the rest of Patton’s sentence, which was mumbled almost shyly. “I wasn’t sure if you would think mixing the dyes was too much effort.”

“Says the person who insists on making the dough from scratch every time,” Janus snorted easily as he dolloped a spoonful of frosting in his own bowl, and then Patton’s. Patton bowed his head with a small bit of shame, but smiled at the way Janus teased him. “I know what I’m getting into every time I join you,” Janus continued, squeezing a couple drops of yellow into his bowl. Somehow Janus made the sound of a fork scraping against porcelain repeatedly not annoying. Patton didn’t know how he managed that; it always seemed like the second he held a utensil near anything, annoying noise was unavoidable.

“I guess that’s true,” Patton mumbled, finally settling on starting with purple. He planned to do a few of everyone’s favorite colors and let them know they were on the counter for the taking. Well, except yellow and green of course. Janus always did his and Remus’ himself. Carefully he squeezed a couple drops of blue and red into his bowl, tongue poking out the side of his mouth; Paton’s telltale sign of concentration. Knowing this, Janus let a few moments pass in silence as he began artfully scraping his pastel yellow mixture into a ziplock bag, which would eventually have its tip cut off to make piping the frosting onto the perfectly shaped cookies that much easier.

As Janus finished with that, Patton beamed at his perfectly purple colored frosting. The color had come out flawlessly, his concentration paying off well.

“Making some for Virgil?” Janus asked conversationally as he held a ziplock bag open for Patton to begin spooning his mixture into.

“And Roman and Logan, of course,” Patton assured with a smile of appreciation as his tongue poked out once more.

“Of course,” Janus sassed but fell silent again as he watched Patton make sure he got every inch of the frosting inside the bag. He wondered how Patton ever did this without him. Had Roman helped? He couldn’t imagine the superfluous Prince capable of staying still long enough to hold a bag like this. The idea of Logan helping was almost comedic. Perhaps Virgil then … The two did get on very well and the brood had a history of helping Janus in the kitchen, years ago.

“Alright! Next color,” Patton cheered. Janus’ smile twitched and he busied himself with folding the bag of purple, squeezing out the air to be placed on the counter for later.

The bowls were placed in the sink and the process was repeated with a couple of clean ones, now with Janus mixing the forest green with a hint of yellow to achieve the Duke’s signature lime color. He watched as Patton used about half the tube of blue for Logan’s indigo shade, complaining all the while that it wasn’t dark enough and looked too much like his own favorite baby blue.

Janus hummed as he observed it; it was true, the color was far too light. “Try a couple drops of this,” He offered, reaching and handing Patton the unopened bottle of black food coloring.

“Black?” Patton said almost indignantly. His bottom lip jutted out an inch as he looked down at the bottle, turning it in his hand.

“Well, he likes dark blue, doesn’t he?” Janus questioned, wondering how on earth he could have offended Patton with the color black.

“I guess…” He trailed off, glancing between the bottle and the pretty light blue in the bowl. “It’s just…” Patton paused, realizing his thought was a bit silly, but it felt like a good question. Janus never made him feel stupid for asking things at least, even if the answer seemed obvious. “Logan’s … on our side, isn’t he?” Janus quirked a brow, his expression devoid of amusement suddenly. “L-like, mine and …. and Roman’s… I mean.”

Silence hung in the air for several seconds. Patton had begun regretting the question; usually, Janus had some sort of answer immediately. His mind was much faster than his, able to connect things instantly where Patton couldn’t even begin to see a relation. His explanations were always succinct, at least to him. This sort of pause was … rare, if not unheard of. He anxiously rolled the bottle in his hands, wishing he could just sink out and leave.

Janus started with a quiet click of his tongue as his head turned to look at the wall behind the stove. “Since when is color indicative of that sort of thing,” Janus mused rhetorically. Another pause ensued and Patton wasn’t quite fast enough to draw his own conclusion from that line alone. He did start to wonder, however, if he had managed to hurt Janus’ feelings, and if that was why he was reluctant to answer.

“Yellow doesn’t exactly scream evil, does it,” Janus said with too much venom on his tongue as he looked back at Patton and jabbed a hand almost violently at the bright gloves resting on the counter. Patton held the bottle to his chest, shrinking away as Janus’ anger showed. He didn’t like when Janus got angry, but he at least understood it. He knew he could be frustrating.

“Neither does bright green, right?” Janus tilted the bowl towards Patton unnecessary before sighing. “Your side, my side,” He mumbled, walking away from the counter. Patton frowned at the ground as Janus reigned his frustration in.

He had a point. Yellow was bright and happy; the sun was yellow, dandelions, sunflowers … lots of good things were yellow; and green was everywhere. Not exactly the Duke’s shade of green, but green nonetheless, Patton guessed. Why had he never noticed it before? Between everyone, only he and Roman wore bright colors, but that didn’t make Virgil, in his black hoodie and equally black jeans, any less good than either of them! What did that mean for yellow and green then, if even a color as dark as indigo was to be considered light?

“I’m sorry,” Patton sighed, shoulders deflating. He cautiously approached Janus’ back.

“No, no,” Janus muttered, fingers pressed to his brow with a thumb on his cheek, a hand on his hip as he berated himself for showing so much of his aggravation. “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset.”

“I get it,” Patton’s tone smiled bitterly as he hesitatingly placed a hand on Janus’ shoulder. “I’m really frustrating and ask stupid questions sometimes.”

“Pat…” Janus turned his head to frown at Patton. “That’s not…”

“Forget I asked anything,” he squeezed Janus’ shoulder and nodded towards the cookies on the stove. “C’mon, we should finish up.”

Janus stared at the wear on Patton’s face for a long moment. The air was sweet and not just because of the frosting on Morality’s teeth. There he went, hurting Patton again. Would he ever be able to stop?

“Sure,” Janus deflated and reached up to place a hand over Patton’s on his shoulder. For a moment, Patton’s facade fell and the surprise in his expression was genuine, but the slip was only quick enough for Janus to catch.

The familiar routine continued, now silently as Janus scooped Remus’ green into a bag. Patton stared down at the black dye in his hand but only paused briefly before tearing it open and poising the tip above the bright blue frosting. Janus held his breath and it seemed Patton was doing the same.

“I’m sure Log--” Janus started, about to reassure Patton with the idea that Logan would enjoy a cookie no matter its color, but was interrupted by two black globs falling into the bowl finally. Janus closed his mouth and watched from the side of his vision as Patton began mixing the color thoroughly; slowly at first, and then as the blue darkened to a familiar indigo, faster.

“Oh,” Patton sighed, soon smiling down at the bowl of perfect Logan-colored frosting. “It’s perfect,” He grinned at Janus, seeming to instantaneously forget their altercation.

Janus’ smile back was softer, much more relieved than anything. “It is,” he nodded and reached for a bag to hold open once more. When Patton had finished scooping the frosting inside and Janus had turned to place the bag with the other two, Morality paused.

“Thanks,” He mumbled to Janus’ back, hoping he would attribute the sudden appreciation to helping with Logan’s color. Really, Patton wasn’t quite sure what it was he realized, but he did realize something about the black and white way he viewed everyone; and that was thanks to Janus, as usual.

Janus ran his hands over the ziplock bags laying atop each other. Yellow, purple, green, indigo, soon to have light blue and red together with them. The colors didn’t mean anything, even if they were obviously representative of a specific person here. Sure, they could theorize all day about why each color, but what did it matter? A little darkness in someone didn’t make them all bad, obviously.

“Of course, dear.”

Chapter Text

Patton blinked several times in awe, thinking that with a simple flourish of Janus’ hand, they were transported not just in location, but mostly in time. This didn’t look like any grocery store he was familiar with; between the cream colored walls that matched every other square of the reddish brown checkerboard floors, the classy, bare twig sapling decorations sporadically placed in the aisles, and the smiling pink pig mascot that hung on the walls, the usual sterile and industrial feel of today’s stores was nowhere to be found. 

“Woah…” Patton breathed, imagination running wild with the scenery change.

“Hm?” Janus hummed, turning his head just enough to see Patton still standing there in the middle of the entrance way. “Come along, dear,” He called and Patton wondered when Janus had the time to retrieve a cart, but then realized he might’ve just materialized one. This was his dream space after all, and the laws of it were up to him.

“This is amazing,” Patton skipped in line with Janus before the two continued at a lazy Sunday pace through the halls. “You blend right in!” He observed with a grin, spotting a doll-like figure who wore an outfit resembling Janus’. The store was populated with still and barely moving patrons; all without faces or motives, but looking like they belonged all the same. 

Janus chuckled and paused in front of a row of canned vegetables. “I always did have an appreciation for the older things in life,” He said, plucking a can of peas off the shelf and turning it over in his gloved hand. Though that excuse didn’t explain much about Janus; accepting it at face value, as he would hope everyone would, meant misinterpreting his desire for an idealistic world full of warmth, reliability, and honesty.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Patton laughed with a goofy expression, doing just that and chalking Janus’ habitual and cohesive aesthetic up to something else entirely. “Oooo!” Patton said suddenly, disregarding the conversation topic as Janus placed the can back on the shelf. “Cookies!” He raced off to the end of the aisle, leaving Janus blinking in the dust. By the time he caught up with their cart (which lacked the pesky human quality of one lame wheel) Patton held a tube of Crunchy Peanut Pillsbury cookies in one hand and a tube of Sugar Cookie flavor in the other.

“Darling, we’re here to get dinner,” Janus reminded him patiently, though the idea of pre-mixed Pillsbury cookies did sound far more compelling.

“Yeah, but dessert!” Patton insisted, beaming until he watched Janus’ unmoving face. Patton's lips pursed in a pout as he gave Janus his best puppy-dog expression.

“Oh, fine,” Janus rolled his eyes dramatically and gestured for Patton to throw whatever in the cart. 

“Yay,” Patton cheered softly, placing both tubes delicately against the metal like he had watched Thomas do a million times. 

“You still haven’t helped me decide on what we’re getting,” Janus said, leaning forward with heavy elbows on the cart’s handle.

“You know I'm bad at that sort of thing,” Patton's lips twisted in a small frown as he leaned a hip against the cart Janus held steady.

“That’s true, just last night you had poor Thomas between at least five different options.”

“Oops,” Patton giggled, “It’s not my fault! Roman kept coming up with yummier and yummier things! How was I supposed to pick?”

“Thank god for Logan,” Janus rolled his eyes playfully and motioned for Patton to move as he stood. “Alright then, I suppose I can play the role of responsible adult for once,'' Janus' face fell into a serious expression that Patton attempted to match, but it was only a moment after Patton gave a single nod to confirm his maturity that his face crumbled and he was back to grinning. Janus chuckled and shook his head.

The pair continued up and down the store; occasionally Janus would offer an option like stuffed meatloaf as they passed the cheeses, baked ham as Patton eyed a can of pineapples, or even a classic chicken and dumplings as the frozen meat section came into view. To each Patton gave a thoughtful, indecisive hum and a tentative ‘no.’ 

“Okay,” Janus huffed, slapping his hands gently on the handlebar of their cart before giving Patton a rather stern look. “We’re doing Fish Tacos,” He announced with a curt and slightly unhinged smile.

“But--” Patton began to object softly, however Janus’ frustrated gaze bore into him, killing the words on his tongue. “Okay…” He whined, looking away for a pause before pouting back up at Janus, eyes pitiful from under his lashes. “Can we at least do mango salsa with it?” 

“Fine,” Janus allowed gracefully and Patton smiled. 

An ordeal that should’ve taken no more than half an hour then ensued for much longer as the pair circled about the store, recalling that they needed cabbage only after they had made their way to the other end, then remembering that spices were required after making their way back to the vegetables, only for Patton to triumphantly dash across the aisles when they had nearly forgotten the mangoes. Slowly the cart filled up between chastising conversation, in which Janus would insist he had fully intended on grabbing something Patton had only just recalled and Patton would beam with red cheeks as Janus fondly used pet names to pull his attention to an incorrect item in the cart.

“I think that’s everything,” Janus surmised as they paused to take inventory.

“Phew…” Patton sighed and eyed the line of registers. Ladies in navy dresses with white aprons and no faces stood stock-still near their bulky, old fashioned, glorified calculators. “Wait,” Patton patted his pockets, seeming to panic. Janus raised a brow curiously. “I don’t have any money!” He exclaimed, turning his pants pockets inside out. 

“Oh, honey,” Janus blinked, lowering his chin with an incredulous tone. He flourished a hand and the dream space dissolved unceremoniously. They found themselves back in the Light Side kitchen; their groceries neatly lined on the counter.

“Huh?” Patton looked around dizzily, as though he didn’t recognize his own home, then his eyes rested on the acquired groceries. “Did … we just steal those?”

“Oh yes,” Janus deceived playfully. “The Mindscape police are already on their way,” His eyes went wide with concern. “You better think of a good alibi, or else.”

“Or else, what?” Patton fretted and despite wanting to keep up the act to see how far it could be pushed, Janus couldn’t help but laugh; the sound melodic and honeyed as he bent forward. Patton’s face went red and he frowned as fierce as he could while watching Janus smile; which was to say, he was also smiling after just a moment.

“Well anyway, that was fun,” Patton sighed and stared at the line of groceries on the counter again, now feeling a little overwhelmed at the idea of putting everything away. It was different for them on this side of things; food items simply materialized in the kitchen when it was necessary. They never bothered with anything as domestic as Janus seemed to. “Do you do that every time?” he asked conversationally, reaching to put the fresh vegetables away and into the fridge until they were ready to start cooking.

“Hmm,” Janus hummed thoughtfully, “Mostly,” he admitted, skillfully sliding the newly acquired spices onto the rack. “It’s a … very welcomed reprieve,” he continued, reaching for a can of mangoes. Janus turned and stretched an arm up to the cabinet by the fridge, a soft grunt punctuated the back of his throat with the effort of trying to place it on the shelf. 

“Reprieve from what?” Patton asked curiously, coming up behind Janus. Being several inches taller, reaching over and taking the can Janus struggled with was easy, though he did huff about it and cross his arms defensively after letting Patton take over.

“Things,” he dismissed with a shallow, one shouldered shrug as Patton finished putting the cans away. “Remus has the Imagination and I have,” Janus waved a hand and let his sentence trail off insinuatingly.

Patton pondered that in silence as they finished putting everything away. Roman also escaped into the Imagination at times, naturally. Virgil spent the majority of his time in his room, which was the same for Logan. Patton couldn’t imagine needing a reprieve from any of them … though he guessed if he was in Janus’ position and had to deal with Remus all the time …

“That you, Pat?” Virgil’s voice suddenly rounded the corner into the kitchen. Oh God, Patton thought, body freezing as panic welled in his chest. Distracted in tone, there was a pause after Virgil entered when he clearly expected a response without looking up from his phone; though when he did, his expression morphed drastically from neutral to full of rage before either Janus or Patton could do anything. The switch that flipped in the former Dark Side was instantaneous as he registered Janus’ presence. “What the fuck is he doing here?” Virgil spat, posture rigid and accusatory.

“Please,” Janus snarked, leaning back against the counter with a dramatic roll of his eyes, “Talk about me like I’m not right here.”

Patton fidgeted. He knew the two didn’t get along and that there had to be some history he didn’t fully understand. Like the others, Patton was aware of Virgil’s past on the other side; he could only assume that their time sharing that space together wasn’t pleasant; or, that it hadn’t ended pleasantly, at least. Patton wouldn’t press for details, but while Virgil was clearly angry whenever Janus was around, Janus in turn, seemed … Annoyed. Patton wasn’t an expert at decoding all of Janus’ moods, but he did at least realize his emotions were far more than just one dimensional. What may seem annoyed, Patton thought, probably had much deeper implications Janus wouldn’t admit to. Patton wished he knew more. Not in a nosey way, but just so that he could try to help.

“Really fucking wish you weren’t,” Virgil retorted, forcing himself to take an exasperated breath before turning towards Patton. “What, so I can’t even exist over here without him hanging around now?”

“I, uh,” Patton floundered and Janus frowned.

“You’re pissed at me so you’re going to yell at Patton about it,” Janus pointed out bluntly, expression unamused.

“You know what,” Virgil said, whipping back around to Janus with an unhinged smile, “You’re right, for once. Patton has no clue what you’re capable of,” he raised a hand to point violently at Janus. “But I do, and I know you’re just going to hurt him. That’s all you’re capable of. Lying, manipulating,” Virgil’s finger dug into the front of Janus’ shoulder. Janus stared down at it with a sarcastically offended expression. “Hurting people. Well it stops here,” Janus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “You should go back to where you came from--”

“Or what,” Janus drawled his interruption and Patton gulped. “You’re going to yell more? Call me a liar again?” He clasped his hands together with a muffled sound and let his voice thicken with mocking concern; his bottom lip jutted out in a condescending pout. “Tell Patton what a bad, mean, hurtful, evil man I am?” Virgil’s eyes began to panic; they flitted about Janus’ face and his feet itched to run. “Enough,” Janus deadpanned, patronizing tone and expression deflating into an exhausted gravity Virgil was too familiar with. “No one cares but you, Virgil, so maybe it’s time you got over it.”

“No,” Virgil repeated, but he was already instinctually taking a half step back. “Just because you’ve already fooled the others doesn’t mean I should just give up,” he shook his head, determination crossing with the anger on his face. “You’re not gonna get you--”

“I think that’s enough, kiddo,” Patton chimed in, voice soft and worried as he reached out to place a gentle hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “I invited him over here,” he explained, frowning compassionately. “S-so it really is me you should be mad at, if you’re gonna get mad about this at all.”

“But that’s not the point,” Virgil nearly yelled, turning around with a dramatic display of his hands. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Pat. He’s manipulating you!”

“You don’t think I can tell the difference for myself, kiddo?” Patton asked genuinely, squeezing Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil sputtered and dropped his arm, all the anger in his blood evaporating at the possibility of hurting Patton. “That’s not what I meant, Pat,” Virgil’s eyes begged Patton to understand the things he couldn’t explain. His tone was desperate and pleading behind the clear animosity. “Listen,” Virgil inhaled, trying to get a hold of his emotions. “He doesn't care about you or Thomas or anyone,” Virgil explained slowly. “He only cares about getting his way.”

Patton’s face became unreadable as he glanced behind Virgil at Janus, whose brow twitched with subtle worry. The anxiety that had been building up in Patton opened a pit in his stomach at those words and the hand on Virgil’s shoulder retracted with a slight shake.

“I said that was enough, Virgil,” Janus repeated with a sober intent that’d make even Remus second guess himself.

Virgil blinked and finally saw what he was doing to Patton. Guilt coiled in his chest and Virgil began to reach for Patton’s trembling hands, stuttering apologies half making their way off his tongue.

“God, take the hint already, Virgil,” Janus slid in slyly between them. “Or do you need more proof that you’re not good at contributing anything helpful?” Gently, Janus felt Patton’s fingers knot in the back of his shirt.

“I’ll go,” Virgil mumbled and looked at Patton behind Janus’ shoulder. “I’m sorry, Pat. Uh, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Y-yeah, we’ll talk later, kiddo,” Patton managed in his sadness and Virgil shuffled out.

“You know that wasn’t true, right Pat?” Janus asked as he turned. It should be a given, he thought with annoyance. The fact that his way was concocted only ever out of care for Thomas’, and everyone else’s, well-being shouldn’t have to be a topic of conversation at this point. They had just gotten over this particular hurdle and Janus found anger welling in his chest; anger at the idea that all his patience and time spent proving his trustworthiness to Patton was wasted on a stupid comment from Virgil of all Sides.

“Oh yeah, I know,” Patton mumbled in a frail voice. His hands instinctually gripped the front of Janus’ shirt now. Satisfied that at least they didn’t have to go over that part again, Janus sighed and pressed a hand against the back of Patton’s, the other wrapping around his shoulders to pull him in close.

“Deep breaths, sweetie,” Janus consoled and Patton inhaled like he had forgotten to since Virgil walked in. A few silent moments passed before Janus spoke again. “If you doubting me isn’t what’s on your mind, then what is?” The question was honest and blunt, which was typical of Janus, but Patton had a hard time phrasing his thoughts anyway.

“I just,” He started before taking another breath. “He hates you, so much,” Patton whispered in shock. Janus bit his tongue to keep from snorting. “I’m afraid again,” he sighed and Janus nodded.

“He’ll adjust,” He reassured, repeating the words he had used while originally convincing Patton that everything would be okay eventually. “I didn’t say it’d be easy, or even painless,” Janus squeezed him tight and Patton sighed again, the tension in his shoulders relaxing with the comfort. “But he will adjust,” Janus pulled away slightly to look into Patton’s eyes for confirmation.

“Okay, yeah,” Patton breathed and Janus gave a small smile, which he forced himself to return. “I just wish,” he started again, gaze restless. “I understood why…” Patton’s voice trailed off and Janus filled in the blanks.

“It’s an exhausting story,” He dismissed, retracting his hand from Patton’s back and waving it. “And certainly not a dinner conversation,” Patton’s stomach growled at the reminder, his cheeks blushing with embarrassment. Janus chuckled. “Another time,” He pulled away and patted Patton’s shoulder before spinning around to the stove. “I’ll tell you all the gorey details on any night but a date night.”

Patton froze in the action of finally taking steps forward again. His stomach reacted in a warm way that definitely didn’t help the rosy dusting on his face. He was very glad Janus had his back turned or else he might’ve noticed how unbothered Patton was at the idea of dating him. How could Virgil hate someone like that? Janus was patient, smart, wise, and always knew how to make him feel better. Patton pondered and smiled sadly to himself. Was he really missing something that was so obvious to Virgil?

Chapter Text

Patton thought he had an excellent point, one that not even Janus could argue. Sitting on the edge of his bed, Patton went over exactly how he anticipated the conversation to go one more time. First, he would insinuate that spending more time with Virgil would fix their relationship. Janus would hear him out on this; if he didn't immediately, Patton would bring up the fact that it also took him a few months to warm up to Virgil when he started popping up on the Light Side again. Things like that took time, which is what Janus was always telling him as well, so the reverse was true too. If Janus stopped feeding into Virgil’s arguments so much, then surely they’d start getting along again in no time! After all, Virgil and Roman stopped fighting so much after Roman stopped using those insulting nicknames. It was a fool proof argument, Patton thought, nodding to himself with determination. There was no way Janus could see his point from any other perspective. He made a lot of sense. Logically, not just emotionally -- for once.

Standing up with fists balled at his sides, Patton sunk out of his room and popped up in the Dark Side living space. It wasn’t his first time being here, but it still always took his eyes several moments to adjust. The place really did live up to its name; despite the open windows and many lights being on, the room was still drenched in twilight. It scared him, a little bit, but it also just reminded him of Virgil's room sans the spiders, so it wasn’t awful really. 

“Oh,” Janus blinked up from the book in his lap at Patton from his position on the couch. “Was I supposed to be expecting you?” He shifted a hand for his pocket, reaching for his phone, thinking he might’ve missed a message.

“No, no,” Patton smiled despite his nerves, opening his arms like a large shrug. “Can’t I just pop in for a visit?”

“Of course,” Janus said gracefully, but not without a hint of suspicion. “It’s just... a tad unlike you, is all.” He knew by now that delayed topic approaches weren’t anything nefarious coming from Patton. Morality was habitually nervous when approaching conversations that weighed heavily on him. The most distrust Janus had was simply that there was something on Patton’s mind.

“Well,” Patton exaggerated the word, looking up and to the side at the ceiling. His hands folded at his stomach with lazy elbows. Janus squinted; was he imagining things or was Patton’s posture...slightly more intentional than usual? “There was something I wanted to talk about…”

“Do tell then,” Janus requested, closing his book and giving Patton his attention. A new suspicion took root with that one satisfied; what on Earth did Patton have planned?

So far so good, Patton thought. The door was open and nothing was out of the ordinary yet, so he just needed to go through with the argument he already prepared. As long as he stuck to the script, nothing could go wrong.

“Do you think,” Patton started, feigning hesitance as he continued to rest purposely unseeing eyes to the side. Janus’ skepticism rose. Since when did Patton launch into questions without significantly more prompting? “Do you think you and Virgil would get along better if you spent more time together?” The sentence came clean off of Patton’s tongue and Janus rolled his eyes.

“Oh heavens, no,” he replied to Patton’s absurdity without a second thought, opening his book again.

Disagreement. Okay, Patton had just the counterpoint planned.

“Yeah,” He said slowly as though he almost agreed with Janus. “I guess I used to think that way too,” Which wasn’t a lie, Patton amended in his mind. Janus sniffed distrustfully. “But you know,” he brightened, pointing a flimsy finger at Janus who watched the display with narrowed eyes. “The more time Virgil spent around everyone, the easier it got to understand and work with him,” Patton smiled triumphantly, already congratulating himself for such a flawless delivery. 

Janus stared silently for a moment. He already knew where this was going and a sense of pity came with the realization. Patton showed his hand way too early, Janus thought superiorly; what a shallow argument. All this? For Virgil? Well, Janus thought with a subtle sigh, he might as well play along. It was interesting enough that Patton took this approach; he could only imagine the amount of mental energy that went into preparing this kind of argument. The poor thing.

“We tried that,” Janus deadpanned, squashing Patton’s optimism with a dismissive hand. His eyes wandered back to his book. “Eons ago, another life really.”

Patton shifted on his feet. That … wasn’t exactly what he expected Janus to say. But that was fine. Patton nodded to himself with renewed conviction. He had more of his argument to make still and as long as he stuck to the script…

“Well things take time, right?” Patton parroted the sentiment Janus used when consoling him quite frequently. It wasn’t an awful point, just a rather ignorant one, Janus thought with a click of his tongue. “Even Roman and Virgil ended up getting along,” Patton continued on with his second piece of evidence. “After Roman stopped calling him such mean things all the time.” The insinuation made with that comparison was unsettling. 

Impressively, Patton had already outrun what patience Janus was allotting for this act. It wasn’t quite anger he was displaying yet, but at the very least frustration was clear in the sternness of his tone and expression. Janus paused long enough with raised brows, his eyes seeming to ask, are you quite finished? Content with Patton’s silent answer, he began his rebuttal.

“First of all, the idea that Virgil and I simply need more time fails to take into consideration the fact that we already had seven years together before he ran off to your greener pastures,” His gaze bore into Patton’s with a seriousness that peeled away the confidence in his argument like astringent paint stripper. Seven years? Patton questioned internally, quickly doing the math in his head. He opened his mouth but Janus spoke over him. “That number, of course, is not taking into consideration the three that it’s been ever since. Time isn’t our problem,” Janus’ first argument concluded with the closing of his book. Patton squirmed.

“Second of all,” Janus continued, resting an arm on the back of the couch. “In your comparison of Roman and Virgil’s relationship to mine and Virgil’s, I’m placed in the offender’s position. Tell me, darling,” Janus leaned forward, angling his elbow against his crossed knee and resting his chin in the palm delicately. “When have I ever started an argument with Virgil?” Patton gulped. He...honestly couldn’t remember Janus ever directly picking on Virgil. Every time they’ve fought, Virgil started the interaction already upset ... “Can’t recall?” Janus asked rhetorically after Patton’s silent and introspective moment. He sat up fluidly, his hands making punctuated gestures with his following sentence. “Maybe that’s because I’m not the instigator here,” Janus gasped mockingly. “Maybe, just maybe,” His expression sobered. “Your innocent little Anxiety is actually the bad guy for once.”

A familiar sense of exhaustion settled in Patton’s stomach. They’ve been here before, many times. It always turned out the same; with Janus being better at arguing because Patton let his emotions get the best of him. He was disappointed, namely in himself for not having more foresight like Logan or being better at thinking on his feet like Roman. Janus’ defense wasn’t at all what he had been expecting. They had gotten so far off of what Patton had prepared for, he didn’t know how to continue. But Patton thought with diminishing resolution that he had to; not really for the original argument’s sake anymore, but for Virgil now. Even if Janus said it was his fault, Patton didn’t want to believe that. Of course, he didn’t want to blame Janus either. He just…

“I don’t care whose fault it is,” Patton sighed, his shoulders deflating as his neck went limp. Janus frowned with the action, sitting back as the performance was finally dropped. “Virgil’s family,” Patton continued breathlessly, palms up and empty, having nothing else to offer but the truth now. “And I … just want everyone to get along.” Despite the honest and emotional display, Janus’s brow twitched. The sentiment of family felt like sand between his teeth.

“Everyone?” Janus repeated and Patton felt hope bubble in his stomach. He looked up with brightening eyes; was Janus finally understanding? “I suppose that means if I’m willing to play nice with Virgil for the sake of family, then you’ll extend the same patience and grace to Remus?”

“Well, that’s,” Patton stuttered out, feeling like Janus’ words were a direct punch to his gut. He chastised himself for not seeing that one coming, but truth be told whenever Patton thought of ‘everyone,’ he never did include Remus. It wasn’t fair, he was beginning to realize the more time he spent with Janus, but including Remus felt astronomically different from including Virgil. Patton inhaled steadily through his teeth. Janus continued to wait patiently as Morality gathered his thoughts. “That’s... different…” He objected slowly.

“Is it?” Janus stared attentively, expression open like he actually cared to hear what spectacular difference there was to Patton. “Please. Enlighten me,” This wasn’t the first time Patton had seen such an unhinged smile on Janus’ face. It always scared him, watching the switch flip on his composure like that, knowing all the while what quiet anger was hidden behind his usual self-restraint. What was new, however, was the fact that such an expression was pointed at him.

“Well, for one, you and Virgil already used to get along,” Patton listed quietly. He wished his voice could be more like … well, anyone else’s. They were all able to sound more convincing than him. Why did he have to whisper? Why couldn’t he speak clearly and evenly? “F-for two…” Patton cleared his throat. “Virgil doesn’t want to hurt Thomas t-the way...” 

“The way you assume Remus wants to,” Janus finished as Patton faltered. 

This was stupid. Patton felt so stupid. Why did Janus have to make him feel so stupid? Stupid, slow, useless, outdated. Thomas didn’t need him anymore and that was for the best. It would be for the best if he stopped trying to argue so much. If he just let Janus make all the decisions. Patton’s eyes stung.

“It’s amazing,” Janus laughed humorlessly and Patton blinked. The blurriness he stared at the floor through wouldn’t go away. “Truly, it is spectacular how Logan can explain something to you all so simply and yet all of you refuse to absorb it through your thick, deluded skulls,” The frustration in Janus’ voice had morphed closer to anger and Patton’s stomach knotted. He didn’t understand. What did he say that made Janus so mad at him? “I hate to repeat Logan when he already gave such a flawless info-dump, but for your sake, I will,” Janus paused and Patton wondered if he could just sink out instead of hearing a lecture, knowing full well none of what Janus had to say next would stick in his mind through the foggy haze of self disappointment. 

“Remus has no real impact. Remus alone cannot, in any literal way, harm Thomas. He impacts Thomas as much as Roman, which is to say they both exist as nothing more than thoughts,” Janus’ voice was so direct, it was impossible for Patton to tune out, as much as he wanted to. “You and I and Logan exist as their restraint,” Janus boiled the point down in a way Logan hadn’t before. Patton didn’t have the brain power currently to understand if it made sense or not, but it felt significant. “That’s how things have always been. So frankly, when you say you don’t trust Remus in the roundabout ways you have been,” Janus sighed and Patton held his breath, bracing himself, knowing Janus’ closing statements always hurt the most. 

But several silent moments passed before Janus continued; by then, how intently Patton was listening to the dead air had cleared the tears from his vision. “You’re admitting to not trusting me,” Janus’s voice finished quietly.

Patton’s head shot up with urgency. “No, no,” He rushed, “I don’t--”

“I know,” Janus nodded, cutting him off with a tone far more gentle than before. “But that’s how it is,” He admitted, his own palms turned outwards in a small display. After a moment, he pointed at Patton, but it felt far less accusatory now, & more like a firm but kind gesture. “You need to trust me when it comes to him, Patton. As Self Preservation, Denial, and his partner.”

Patton’s hands clasped at his stomach anxiously. He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was the problem really that he didn’t trust Janus when it came to Remus? If asked, Patton would of course say he trusted Janus, with his life; with Thomas’ life! And it would be the truth. But … maybe there were some things he felt too clueless about to place all his faith in. Like the fact that they were partners … That word felt heavy and impenetrable. Intimidating. If it ever came down to such a situation, would Janus automatically take Remus’ side over his?

“I’m sorry,” Patton mumbled and Janus sighed. “You’ve given me a lot to think about,” As usual. “So I’ll uhm,” He scrunched his nose and pointed down. “I’ll see you later, Jan.”

And before Janus could manage to say anything else, Patton sunk out.

Chapter Text

Generally speaking, the sides came and went from each other’s rooms with little to no immediate consequence. It was known, however, well before Virgil’s little stunt several years ago now, that prolonged exposure to a room’s effect without having built one’s tolerance could easily spell disaster. For example, having spent nearly ten years alone on the more dreary side of Thomas’ mindscape, Remus and Janus were well acquainted with each other’s room. It wasn’t exactly that Janus was immune to the festering, disgusting, and repulsive ideas that would begin swarming in his mind after idly laying in bed with Remus too long, as it was that he had simply become accustomed to it -- and had much better impulse control than the Duke, himself. This went both ways of course. Though just like the resident, Janus’ room was a bit more impossible to understand.

Patton had never spent any time there, in Janus’ room. Not, at least, since they were kids; before Self Preservation had developed the more nastier tactics of surviving that inevitably landed him over here. As a kid, Patton would’ve liked to think he knew Janus very well. Janus would agree, while also serving the reality check that they were no longer kids and Self Preservation, much like Fear and Creativity, had morphed into something Patton was unfamiliar with. This revelation would make Patton very sad, indeed.

But how was he ever going to get to know Janus better if their rooms were off limits to each other? If the only common ground they had to stand on was, well, the common area and whatever dreamspace they decided to share? It had nothing to do with Patton wanting to be in Janus’ room, looking at Janus’ things, getting to see what was important to Janus -- no, those were selfish reasons and Patton was doing this for the greater good of … of something, at least. His reasons were hazy but he had a good feeling about it, and that’s all Morality needed to convince himself of anything.

Janus’ door was ornate; perhaps even a bit grander than Roman’s in some respect, if you preferred class over camp. Cresting into an arch at the top, the foggy, impenetrable glass was surrounded by thin, twisting bands of gold. If Patton looked too long, he’d get distracted trying to figure out where the pattern started and ended. There had been an almost shameful amount of times that Patton had stood right here and watched Janus’ shadow through the frosted door, counted the golden loops, let himself get lost in its flourishes and turns while he debated on whether to knock or turn back around. In the end, he always walked away, though it usually did help to have been in Janus’ space for a while, even if the other was ignorant to his presence. Though that assumption was counting on Janus being ignorant of anything, ever.

Patton raised a hand, hovered bare knuckles over the gold trim where the double doors met. Though the glass could absolutely withstand a few taps, the feeling was akin to the fear of standing on something see-through; surely Patton would be the one to break it, if anyone could. Three quick raps were given after a pause where Morality inhaled and steeled himself, watched Janus’ shadow as it passed by again; the shape of an open book in his hand. The figure paused, looked to the door. Janus’ voice mumbled indistinguishably behind the glass. Sweat accumulated at the back of Patton’s neck as Janus tossed the book gently to the side and approached. Patton thought he was about to pass out as the door clicked open.

“Hiya Jan!” Patton greeted, as spirited as ever, hand falling to give a half effort wave as a grin overtook the anxiety on his face.

“Oh, Patton,” Janus greeted with surprise, as though he hadn’t noticed the other lingering outside for the last five minutes. “Hello,” Janus rested his hip against the door; as far as he was concerned, this was where they’d be standing for the next however long Patton decided to stick around.

Patton, of course, had a different idea.

“What were you up to?” Morality asked, leaning forward on his toes to peek into the room with no amount of subtlety.

Janus’ brow raised curiously. While no one aside from Remus had expressed an explicit interest in knowing what was inside, it was relatively obvious from anyone’s brief visits that entering was a step below forbidden. If a Side wished to speak with Janus, they would have to do the civil thing; knock, and wait to be invited in. An invitation that would never come. So, many conversations were had here, on Janus’ metaphorical doorstep.

“Reading,” Janus answered curtly without moving. “Why do you ask?” His voice lacked the defensiveness that would’ve made the question into anything more than interest; though assuming that Janus wasn’t defensive at the idea of having someone leer into his room like a peeping Tom was a grave misstep.

“Oh well, I was thinking,” Patton pulled at his fingertips anxiously, wrung his knuckles tenuously. “It’s been years since we’ve hung out,” his eyes rolled up to stare at the door’s archway, a shrug perpetually held in his shoulders.

“We just watched a movie two nights ago,” Janus interrupted dubiously.

“N-not like that!” Patton rushed to explain, panicked gaze back on Janus as his hands paused, palms out. “Oh jeez,” he sighed, “I meant l-like, by ourselves…?” The statement came out far more like a question than Patton would’ve preferred. Fingers itched at the back of his neck as he attempted to plaster a goofy smile on his lips.

Janus shifted against the door, arms having crossed at some point. He stared at Patton suspiciously; though Morality wasn’t known for having ulterior motives, the possibility wasn’t out of the question. Naturally, cynicism was one of Janus’ most prominent traits, so he let his eyes pierce into Patton’s, mouth pinching to the side.

“Patton,” he said slowly, making Morality feel like a lecture was coming. Why was Janus so intense about his room? Why did that stare make his toes squirm in his shoes?

“Y-yeah?” he tried to smile but the atmosphere felt too punishing.

“Are you trying to get into my room?”

“N-no! I-I mean, yes but not like that! Oh gosh,” Patton’s head fell and Janus almost felt bad for the third degree. Silent moments passed as Patton began to pick at his cuticles nervously. Frankly, Janus didn’t know what to do. Even if he wanted to take back the interrogative pressure he had placed on Patton, giving him what he wanted with this little prompting felt too much like losing.

“It’s probably too much to ask, “Patton whispered to the floor, breaking the awkward tension. “But I … wanted the chance to know you again, as … as well as I did b-back then,” Did that make sense? Patton hoped it did. There wasn’t really anything closer to a Side’s heart than their room; he didn’t go into this ignorant of the implications or significance of course. Both of them knew how much it meant to endure what another Side’s room held. It was like slipping on someone’s shoes and walking several miles in them. It was more than empathy; it was getting tangled up in their skin, letting one mind meld into another. It was never anything less than painful for various reasons.

An anxious Self Preservation made hasty and perilous decisions. A nostalgic Intrusive Thoughts made romance out of abuse and heart ache. A focused Creativity burned himself out faster than any candle. Anxiety pestered with Intrusive Thoughts created world ending scenarios that’d drive any man insane. Passionate nostalgia became stagnant and stale, never progressing, forever looking behind himself. The combinations were, of course, almost endless; and all of them, petrifyingly dangerous.

Janus stared Patton down again. The distrust he felt wasn’t in what Patton was saying. There were no ulterior motives to be found here. It was far more complicated than that. Janus didn’t see Patton as incompetent, but surely at the same time did not see him as apt enough to handle most of things he did on a daily basis. That impression was to no fault of Patton’s, of course, but the heart is fragile compared to the will to live. Morality was impulsive, lacked self control, didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘moderate.’ When the time came to leave Janus’ room, would he be able to?

Janus sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he droned, prying himself off the door frame to step into his room, turning his back on Patton in the process. Patton’s head snapped up and his face brightened with hope.

“Really?” Hesitantly he stepped forward, not quite entering just yet in disbelief.

“If you don’t hurry up and come in, I’ll change my mind,” Janus threatened, rotating a hand cryptically as another picked up the book he had been reading. Patton didn’t know if it was a coincidence, but with the motion, Janus’ door started to close. Quickly he hopped through and the moment he did, the metal latch clicked behind him.

The first thing Patton noticed was the sting in his eyes as his vision adjusted to the darkness. It took him several moments and maybe a dozen blinks to realize Janus had a handful of lamps on, scattered across the immediate area. Not to mention the two large and slender quarter panel arch windows that took up most of the wall opposite the door. They streamed sunlight in but, confusingly enough, the rays seemed to get obstructed or perhaps lost before they were able to illuminate anything. Patton’s eyes traveled up with the shape and the second thing he noticed was how tall the ceiling was. The top of the room seemed to be as untouchable as the moon. A soft sound escaped him at the sight; it was beautiful and … horribly intimidating at the same time. As his gaze attempted to sink back down to earth, he noticed next the balcony-like structure that lined the room; about six or seven feet of walking space cut the place in half vertically. From what he could see of the walls behind the elaborate wood banisters were shrouded in an even darker unnatural gloom. Patton got the sense that there wasn’t any wall there, actually. That, at some point in the shadowy gradient, the room was hollow. The darkness, he thought, just kept going to some place only Janus knew how to find his way out of.

Patton spun around slowly, hands clinging together at his chest as he finally looked back at Janus in time to catch a mysterious puff of yellow smoke replacing the thick book he had held just a moment ago. Patton blinked -- there was so much here he didn’t understand. Maybe this was a mistake. He swallowed and looked away again, at anything but Janus; which was an easy thing to do. Despite the class pouring out of every inch in here, there was a lot of stuff. Which wasn’t to say it was cluttered, somehow Janus had organized everything neatly, in a way that felt spacious and very much the opposite of Patton’s own room, which felt claustrophobic and messy even after he did his best version of deep cleaning.

Janus watched as Patton adjusted to the room. It was somehow similar to Remus, though at the time Intrusive Thoughts was but a child -- as was he. The room wasn’t nearly as large yet and the shadows hadn’t invaded as many corners. Even so, Remus had gawked and soon launched himself with his grubby, meddling hands on every available surface. The floor’s lava! -- Oh yes, absolutely. That isn’t just red hued wood -- Shut up and jump on things with me! There’s so much room!

“Oh!” Patton blinked, mesmerized by a tuft of floating blackness bobbing past his face. “Hello there!” He whispered enthusiastically, reaching out to try and poke it gently, wondering if it felt as fuzzy as it looked. Janus’ shoulders stiffened. So it began...

The wisp of dark memories drifted through the air, across the room. Patton took unconscious steps along with it as it bobbed along until he nearly stumbled right into a large, glass rectangle.

“Pat,” Janus said cautiously, gripping the back of Patton’s shirt like a parent preventing their witless child from toppling over. When did Janus get there? Patton blinked back to the entrance. Wasn’t he over there a moment ago? By the cushioned chairs and chaise lounges?

“Oops,” Patton giggled, deciding to dismiss the disorientation. There were plenty of things he couldn’t explain about Janus; adding to the list was natural. Then he realized what he was about to knock into. “Woah!” He leaped back as a double headed snake hissed at him.

It was Janus’ turn to laugh; a soft chuckle as the black and yellow reptile promptly ignored Patton in favor of hissing delightedly up at Janus.

“Now,” Janus cooed, as he slid back the tank’s lid, “Is that any way to greet a friend?” It was largely unclear if he spoke to Patton or the snakes. Either way, Morality gulped.

“S-sorry,” Patton attempted to stand up straight again, dropping the arm that had raised defensively. “It--” Was that a singular snake? Were both heads sentient? “They,” Patton cautioned on the safe side, “Spooked me is all.”

“I’m sure they’d say the same,” Janus’ tone was soft and affectionate; loving in a way Patton hadn’t heard before. The snakes hovered their faces along Janus’ sleeve. Basing his knowledge off of cats and dogs, he could only assume the snakes were smelling him. Did snakes have noses? Could they even smell?

“Well, then, uh, let them know I’m sorry,” Patton mumbled, encouraging himself to warm up to what was clearly something dear to Janus. Though he’d never seen a snake outside of the garden at Thomas’ childhood home, he wasn’t inherently afraid of them. At least not as much as he feared spiders.

“You can tell them yourself,” Janus offered as the snakes wrapped themselves around his arm. He lifted them out of the tank and held the limb out at an acute degree. The heads bobbed at his shoulder, tongues poking against Janus’ own scales along his neck and cheek. He scrunched his nose fondly; Patton guessed that, while it didn’t feel anything like being licked by a dog, the sentiment was almost the same. The realization made his lips loosen.

Satisfied after a few moments, the snakes slid across the back of Janus’ neck and held themselves upright on his opposite shoulder. They stared at Patton in a way that felt like the intelligent stare of a human. Patton cocked his head slightly, wondering how much this kind of animal understood. Dogs were smart, really smart, you could almost have a conversation with a dog. Cats were pretty smart too, but no cat would listen if you talked to it. That’s when Patton realized their eyes were different colors.

The left snake’s seemed a blend of orange and yellow while the right snake’s were almost a clear blue, save for a few specks of green. How pretty … he suddenly couldn’t look away, though Patton also wasn’t sure if he was trying very hard to. The longer he stared, the closer the snakes got until the one with orangey yellow eyes hovered inches from Patton’s face. In quiet awe, Patton seemed entirely ignorant to the fact that the snake’s mouth had opened with a whisper of a raspy, ravenous sound, revealing fangs that dripped something clear and thick. For some deluded reason or another, Patton didn’t jolt back this time, nor did he feel an ounce of fear. It was as though all the self preservation had been leached out of his body and replaced with … denial. Just when it seemed as though the sharp things would soon sink into the round of Patton’s nose, Janus moved the arm they were still twined around in a way that gently tugged the animal back.

“That’s quite enough, Thomas,” Janus reprimanded with the action. Altogether the animal surged back to Janus’ neck.

“Thomas?” Patton blinked. His muscles uncoiled like he had held a massive tension in them. Shoulders slackened, he felt the need to sigh in relief. Relieved of what? Had he been in danger? No … He was safe, in Janus’ room. There was no danger here. “You named your snake after Thomas?” Patton smiled, endeared by the assumption.

“Well yes, but not in the way you think,” Janus explained as he took a half step closer and reached for Patton’s hand. Blindly he obeyed, holding out his arm and letting Janus twist his wrist, palm up. “Do you remember your scripture?” Janus asked as the snakes turned themselves around elegantly and began to slither down to the bridge of their fingers.

“O...only some,” Patton admitted softly, distracted by the feeling of scales inching up his hand. The feeling was … tantalizing. Sleek and smooth … warm from having rested on Janus for so long. It almost felt like water. Did Janus’ scales feel like this? Heat immediately rushed to Patton’s cheeks. He shook his head and pushed that thought away.

“Do you recall the story of Judas at least?” Janus continued as both heads of the snake sniffed up Patton’s sleeve. Slowly they glided towards his shoulder, twisting around once at his elbow. Their grip was loose, but his arm felt heavier with each passing second.

“Judas…?” Patton whispered like a question. Generally yes, if Janus had asked him under any other circumstance, Patton would’ve been able to hold his own in a conversation like this, but he suddenly felt nervous that he may drop the snakes. A worry that grew when all their weight rested on his arm. Janus retracted his own hand and it felt like Patton was heading somewhere fast without training wheels. Panic welled up inside him and he held his arm out awkwardly. The snakes buzzed their tongues at his ear like demons, or perhaps angels whispering promises. Or maybe prophecies.

Patton gulped again and looked up at Janus who smiled encouragingly. Patton couldn’t help but give a sheepish smile back. What had he said a moment ago? Something about scripture, right? It was difficult to remember, difficult to even think, but it occurred to him that Janus talking about religion was … odd. Back when they were all kids, Janus had been the most skeptical of the bunch -- next to Logan, anyway.

“Well, the story doesn’t actually matter much,” Janus dismissed when it became clear that Patton wouldn’t be answering more than that. “It’s all quite complicated,” He reached out to stroke gentle fingers along the back of his snakes distractedly. “But suffice to say, Thomas was known by three names; Thomas, Judas, and Didymus,” As the third name was said, the blue and green eyed snake turned its head to Janus expectantly like it had been called. Again Janus scrunched his nose fondly, eliciting Didymus to poke his tongue out before busying himself with burrowing under Patton’s collar again. “He was really quite cynical and had the pesky habit of requiring proof for Jesus’ fantastical promises,” The sarcasm in Janus’ voice was heavy and Patton felt less like he was listening to someone talk about the Bible and more like he was listening to someone talking about their favorite movie or show character.

“Three names?” Patton questioned thoughtfully, hesitantly reaching a hand up to rest feather-soft fingers along the exposed part of Didymus’ back. He could hear a soft hiss muffled by his collar, but he assumed no movement meant no objection. “Oh,” Patton blinked up at Janus suddenly. “Kind of like all of us?”

Janus smirked and nodded deeply. “I won’t pretend that hadn’t crossed my mind at one point or another.” They had all started out as one thing -- Self Preservation, Creativity, Curiosity, Fear, Feelings -- and ended up as something almost entirely new -- Deceit, Passion, Logic, Anxiety, Morality. “But more than that,” Janus continued after a moment, wrapping hands around the snakes’ base and gently pulling it back. The snakes reluctantly untangled themselves from Patton’s arm, giving a handful of unenthusiastic hisses; Janus easily supported them with a stealthy third hand appearing to get the heads’ attention from behind Patton’s neck. “All three of Thomas’ names were very redundant, indeed,” Janus urged the snakes to slither back into their tank; they objected briefly, seeming attached to Patton for a moment but ultimately obeying Janus.

“How’s that?” Patton asked, feeling significantly lighter, like some great burden had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Well,” Janus breathed, squatting down to the tank’s eye level with closed knees. His tone was suddenly far off as he placed a gloved palm on the glass. “They all mean twin.”

A new ball of black memories floated past Patton’s vision; this time, he simply blinked at it as it wafted into the darkness.

Janus’ sentence felt significant in a way that Patton didn’t immediately understand. Nervously, his knuckles pressed together. He felt uncomfortably light, having grown far too accustomed to the snakes’ weight, far too quickly.

“Twin snakes … Oh, like your logo?” Patton questioned, recalling the golden, double headed snake that was stitched into Janus’ shirt. The tongues were adorable, and so were Thomas and Didymus, after the initial shock anyway.

“Well, they naturally look similar,” Janus mused as the snakes curled up on their heated rock for a nap. “But it’s not as though my emblem is based on them,” He finished, standing and brushing invisible dust off himself.

“No?” Patton smiled softly at the sleeping snakes, wanting to reach in and pet them more now that he was adjusted to the sight and feel, though Janus must’ve had a reason for putting them back; as sad as that was.

“I can’t be too sure what the Subconscious is up to of course,” a flagrant statement really, considering Janus was the only one allowed to traverse the Subconscious without negative effects to Thomas. “But no,” He turned his head a fraction to smile affectionately at the snakes as well. “Remus made them for me, so I can’t assume a relation between the two at all.”

“R-Remus?” Patton stuttered, body going rigid at the name as his head snapped back to Janus. Remus made them? Well, that was hard to believe. They were so cute! and nice! How could someone like Remus make something like that?

“Yes, Remus,” Janus rolled his eyes, “He is a Creativity after all,” he gave the reminder rather curtly, bristling with offense at Patton’s fear of his partner. How unnecessary.

“I-I guess…” Patton pulled at his fingertips. Remus was hard to think about. He came with a touch of guilt -- after all, there would be no Remus without Morality having initiated the Fear of the former, singular Creativity’s … darker work. There’d be no Roman either, but Patton was very used to shoving that thought down. Guilt aside, the remaining feeling was mostly dread. Confusion mixed in now, with recent events. Only a handful of months had passed since the Duke had made himself known to Thomas. Even with Logan’s graceful explanation that day, Patton still had a hard time accepting Remus. He wasn’t ignorant of course, he knew Janus’ attachment to the Duke, but altogether, this wasn’t a topic he enjoyed thinking about.

Which is why as the denial piled up inside Patton, Janus’ nose scrunched distastefully; a wretched sweetness filled the air.

“You’re wondering how Dark Creativity could make something that seems so nice,” Janus finally said, filling in the blanks that Patton was refusing to acknowledge. Morality nodded after a hesitant pause. Janus always did see right through him.

“It’s just … R-Remus’ ideas are always so ... “ Horrible, terrifying, scary, “Dark. A-and Thomas and Didymus,” Patton gestured with reserve to the sleeping snakes. “Well they’re … Cute.”

“And naturally defective,” Janus amended slowly, which left Patton blinking. Janus sighed. Patton was afraid he was about to lose his temper again; conversations like this always ended with Janus angry and Patton profusely apologizing. Even worse, Patton expected to be thrown out with that anger -- and he didn’t want to leave yet. There was so much here to explore, as uneasy as the room made him feel at first, he was succumbing to the curiosity that slowly filled him. Where did those shadowy corridors lead? What did all these books say? Where were the candles that flickered uneven light against the walls? Where had those black tufts floated off to…

“You see, Patton,” Under Janus’ voice was a strange sound. Patton looked up to see Janus sprinkling something from a round, white container into the snakes’ tank. “Not all things that are wrong are scary,” He continued as the snakes blinked awake. Behind the glass, crickets now hopped around in a panic. Patton’s heart lurched.

“Hey, wait--” He whispered, a hand reaching to press against the glass. Janus softly wrapped his own fingers around Patton’s wrist, giving him a sidelong glance full of patience. Cruelly, Thomas and Didymus began to slither slowly around the tank, stalking their moving prey with dripping fangs. Patton’s eyes became damp and he desperately wanted to steal the container full of live and safe crickets from Janus.

“Thomas and Didymus, for example,” He continued as the silent mayhem inside the tank endured. “As adorable as they are, they are broken. They have two heads on a single body, dear. They’re as not right as any of Remus’ ideas.”

That realization left Patton blinking away the tears that hadn’t yet fallen from his eyes. That was … true. It wasn’t like he didn’t notice Thomas and Didymus weren’t two separate snakes. It was more like … Patton immediately accepted that that’s how they should be. Connected. Moving, thinking, feeling, as one. “Oh,” Patton’s voice trembled as the air wooshed from his lungs all at once. The tears returned to his eyes.

“Janus?” Patton said meekly, hand on the glass going limp.

“Hm?” Janus hummed, prying his eyes away from the sight of Didymus’ tongue triumphantly devouring several crickets at once. When he looked at Patton’s crumbled face, he frowned deeply. Was the room finally getting to him?

“D--do you think, uhm,” Patton swallowed, his head fell to the floor like the thing was too heavy for his neck. Janus turned his hand on Patton’s wrist to hold his palm firmly, the action done without a shred of thought. “Do you think, R-Remus making Thomas and Didymus…” Patton’s fingers tightened into a fist, clutching the fabric at this chest; Janus’ brows furrowed in worry. “H-had anything to do with the uhm,” Patton turned his head, stared with unseeing eyes at a tiny ball of black memories that seemed to have floated from behind him. “There’s no way, right,” Patton whispered rhetorically as the silence dragged on, almost like he was afraid exhaling too heavily would blow the tuft away. “Something like that w-wouldn’t have affected … someone like him … N-not like that…”

Janus’ own heart ached. Patton had been and would continue to be in a deep amount of denial about the split. He had distanced himself from the repercussions, causing everyone over a decade of pain and confusion; causing Dark Creativity to morph into Intrusive Thoughts just to get a word in edgewise. Leaving Roman to work alone without his literal other half; that pressure surmounting on his shoulders and crushing his ego. It was clear that Patton hardly saw Remus as a person. His denial here that someone like Remus wouldn’t have been so deeply affected by an event that had traumatized everyone else involved spoke loudly to how little Patton understood about the Duke. Janus sighed and reached up to cup Patton’s damp cheek with a gloved hand.

“Oh, Patton,” Janus sighed, seeming as though he was about to say something before shaking his head. “This really isn’t the place for that discussion, darling,” Janus said compassionately. Patton looked at him with watery eyes. He paused before nodding and letting his head fall again. That made sense. He didn’t really understand what Janus’ room did but he trusted that Janus knew best. Patton breathed out a shaky breath that verged on a sob. Was this the room’s effects? Even Janus didn’t know for sure, but that was more evidence than he needed to conclude that it was very much time for Patton to leave.

“You should get going,” Janus whispered as he let an arm sink around Patton to pull him in for a loose hug. The action only elicited Patton to sob wetly against Janus’ collarbone. The denial was quickly proving to be too much for Morality. Janus wasn’t sure what he hugged Patton for, other than the knowledge that if he were to ever cry, Patton would never hesitate to offer what comfort he could. His feelings were … complicated -- and not something he cared to address right then.

“I’m s-sorry,” Patton choked out clinging to Janus’ shirt. The apology felt insignificant compared to the pit of things welling up in his heart.

“I know,” Janus mumbled, squeezing him tightly before deftly turning them in the same direction. Patton stayed clinging to Janus’ side as they slowly made their way out of the room, each step seeming to equal more tears staining Janus’s shoulder.

Stepping out of Janus’ room, the doors were hardly closed before Patton felt relief. The air out here was somehow easier to take in. The sunlight streaming through the windows strained his eyes in a way that reminded him he was in reality. Janus turned Patton around, now to hold him gently with both arms as Patton pressed his flushed face into Janus’ cool skin at the crook of his neck. Patton’s sobs reduced to hiccups and quiet sniffles as Janus encouraged him with a steady hand on his back to simply breathe. It was embarrassing, having cried so hard, so suddenly, but Patton tried to focus on the soft murmuring of Janus’ voice, reassuring him that the effects would subside soon. Minutes passed before Patton gave a final sniffle and hesitantly pulled away. Janus allowed his arms to fall with a sigh.

“This is why I don’t allow any of you into my room,” He mumbled, mostly to himself, though the notion made Patton’s heart hurt again. He was, of course, in a very similar circumstance; none of the others fared well in his room for long. Even Roman had failed to adjust after all these years. Patton felt a sting in his chest -- A touch of jealousy, or maybe more innocently, just a little bit of longing for the fact that at least Remus could withstand Janus’ room.

“I shouldn’t have pushed for it,” his voice came out raspy. Patton cleared his throat as he adjusted his wrinkled shirt. “Sorry.”

“It’s quite alright, don’t beat yourself up over it,” While the chiding comment was said in good humor, Janus’ eyes were rather serious, betraying how well he knew Morality’s habits.

“I’ll try,” Patton nodded. He opened his mouth to say something but then promptly shut it, earning him a squinting look of suspicion from Janus. “Nevermind,” he smiled sadly.

Janus pursed his lips before nodding begrudgingly. “I should finish feeding Thomas and Didymus,” He admitted after a moment.

“Oh yeah, n-no sure,” Patton stuttered eagerly, ashamed at the realization that he may have been holding Janus’ day up. “Don’t let me stop you,” Patton started taking several steps back down the hall.

“Patton?” Janus said evenly, in a way that made Patton stop immediately.

“Y-Yeah?” Patton’s fake smile faltered and his hands fell back to his sides. “What’s up?”

“Come have dinner with us tonight,” Janus requested. Patton blinked in surprise. Eating with Janus was nothing new, they made time for dinner together a couple nights a week. But …

“U-us?” Patton stuttered, nervous hands meeting at his stomach to have their cuticles pulled. “You don’t mean…”

“Please?” Janus’ eyes were almost … hesitant? Shy? Nervous? They searched Patton’s for something. Patton hoped whatever he was looking for was there.

“Okay, yeah, sure,” He agreed slowly, shoulders deflating with his willpower. How bad could dinner with Janus and … and Remus be? Patton swallowed anxiously.

“Splendid,” Janus smiled genuinely, his hands clapped together. Patton wondered at how excitement made his face light up. “Does about seven work for you?” Patton’s eyes watched Janus’ hands as they fell to his stomach in a similar way his own were. The realization made Patton’s fly behind his back self consciously.

“Y-yeah, that works fine,” Patton forced another smile but it was hard not to smile at all when Janus grinned at him like that.

“Excellent, I will see you then,” Janus stepped back into his room, bowing his head slightly and Patton began to walk again.

“Y-yeah,” He stuttered again, “See you then, Jan!”

Janus closed the door and rested heavily against it. Forcing himself to inhale deeply, he stared down at his shaking hands clasped together. Nothing will go wrong, he told himself. Everything will be fine, the room told him.

Chapter Text

“Hey, uh, Jan?” Patton’s voice came apprehensively but without surprise. Janus had been waiting for Patton to speak up for quite a while now; the man was awful at hiding when something was on his mind.

“Yes, darling,” Janus answered like someone approaching an easily startled deer.

“I was wondering about something,” Patton eased himself into the question like the last hour of mental preparation wasn’t enough. Five more minutes of indirect meandering and maybe then he’d have worked himself up to asking Janus something.

“And what would that be, dear?” asking Janus something, though, would be significantly easier if he put the pet names away for a moment and let Patton think.

“Um,” he hesitated again, pushing his knuckles together at his stomach, staring anywhere but at Janus, who was sitting delicately on their dining room chair. It was amazing really, how Janus could make any surface look comfortable. Patton knew from experience how hard that wood was. He would get sore sitting there even after just five minutes, but Janus had been there for an hour. with a dainty leg crossed over the other, book in his lap and head resting lackadaisically against a palm, he looked like he was lounging on the softest cushions money could buy. Effortless. Patton didn’t know many impressive or overly descriptive words, that was Logan and Roman’s type of thing, but he thought effortless was a good way to describe Janus.

“Um?” Janus pressed, blinking up from his book with a quirked brow.

“Oh gosh,” Patton sighed under his breath, head falling. He realized only then how red his knuckles were getting.

“Out with it already, Pat. I’m not going to bite.”

“Oh I know,” Patton rushed apologetically, wide eyes filled with panic back to staring at Janus’ amused expression. “I just don’t wanna offend you or anything, I guess.”

The idea that Patton could offend him was entertaining and, if an hour of sitting here watching Patton's gears turn painfully as he had tried to piece together whatever incredibly offensive thing was on his mind hadn’t made Janus very curious already, then that assumption would have.

“If it offends me, I simply won’t answer,” Janus bargained, closing the book in his lap so that Patton knew he had his attention.

Patton brightened at that offer, smiling in an eager and dopey way that made Janus’ own lips twitch. “Alright,” he nodded shallowly a handful of times, beginning to pick at a cuticle as he realized this meant he actually had to ask his question now. “I was wondering,” Patton began slowly, having to look away from Janus again. His gaze flitted from the wall behind Janus’ head, down to his own hands, to the hand cupping Janus’ cheek, unable to stay focused for more than one word at a time out of his subsequent sentence. “Why do you always wear gloves?” A pause. Patton’s gaze snapped and was suddenly unable to look away from Janus, a fact that had blood rushing to his cheeks in embarrassment. “Is it like, a germ thing?” Patton began to ramble, having broken the dam of his silence as Janus smirked, both brows raising at the hilarity of Patton’s nerves. “Or, or, a texture thing?” Patton’s face scrunched slightly. “I have this one pair of pants, no clue what they’re made of but every time I touch them--”

“I'm just cold, Patton,” Janus interrupted for fear of laughing if he had continued.

"Cold?" Patton blinked, head cocking like a confused dog. "But it's … July," he hazarded a glance out the window. Sunny Florida as usual. honestly, the sweater tied around his shoulders was even a bit too warm. Janus rolled his eyes, looked away dramatically while maintaining his smirk; it was all he could do to keep from smiling wider at the bewilderment on Patton's face.

But it was hard to ignore what Patton’s confusion really meant. The realization drifted through his mind, clicked into place like a forgotten memory. One of those memories that, when remembered, seems impossible to have forgotten in the first place. It was this; Patton didn’t see Janus Deceit Sanders. The scales plastered on his cheeks that crept into his hairline, the ones hidden beneath the very gloves in question, his slit pupil, and all the other associated disfigurements that he had accumulated over his years of lying, deceiving, and manipulating meant nothing to Patton. There wasn’t anything so distrustful or presumptuous in Morality’s mind that connected the fact that Janus suffered for his sins. Another example of Patton’s blind optimism, but one Janus almost envied. He wondered how it would feel to look in the mirror and not agree that he deserved this.

“Yes, cold.” Janus blinked, eyes focusing on Patton’s worried face once more, smirk a bit more hollow than before.

“Ah,” was all Patton could manage, not because Janus’ pause had made him uneasy, or even that he picked up on how off his expression was now, but because he couldn’t figure out what question came next; and even if he could, spending another hour mentally preparing to ask it sounded exhausting.

[timeskip]

Fall in Florida is wildly disappointing if you have any sense of whimsy whatsoever. The leaves do not change colors, making the seasonal holiday decorations stand out of place against the grass that stayed green almost year round. Patton sighed, fogging up the window he stared through, thinking about how lovely it’d be if the forest behind their house was orange, red, and yellow instead of its usual lively green.

“Hey,” he started, excitedly turning around to regard Janus as an idea occurred to him, “do you think we could go up north sometime?” Patton, and therefore Thomas, dreamed frequently this time of year about apple picking in New England orchards, wishing for a chilly breeze and a reason to wear knitted beanies with matching scarfs. Two weeks out from Halloween currently and the thermometer nailed to the tree just outside read a dismally warm 64°F.

“For what?” Janus spat indignantly, face crumbling at the idea of going absolutely anywhere more north than Jacksonville. “Florida is perfectly fine,” he said, busying himself with pulling the blanket on his lap further up.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Patton pinched his thumb with fingers from his opposite hand as he shrugged at the ceiling. “I think it’d be really nice to see the trees and stuff there someday.”

Janus made a quiet sound of repulsion, now tucking the blanket in at the sides under his legs. “We have trees here,” he mumbled in disinterest.

“Yeah, but they’re just … green,” Janus snorted, “not anything interesting like, I dunno, orange and red.” Patton’s face lit up as he remembered again how beautiful it would be to see leaves of so many different colors in person. “Have you ever seen a picture of the trees there?” Patton patted his pockets, glancing around distractedly but soon came up empty handed, seeming to have misplaced his phone again. “The leaves even turn yellow, Jan!”

“Sounds lovely,” Janus murmured, having slithered his arms into the blanket pulled just inches below his chin to finally achieve a burrito-like state.

Patton frowned, finally registering Janus’ indifference to the topic as his eyes settled on the other’s crumbled form. Eyes closed, Janus looked asleep but not peacefully so. His brows were knitted and shoulders seemed tense beneath the blanket that made Patton sweat just looking at it.

“Are you … alright, Jan?” Patton asked after a few moments of silent contemplation. He realized then this was the first fall season Janus had been around for since they were kids. Usually it would be Roman sitting there, able to enthuse equally about the fantastic idea of warm-toned leaves. Virgil would be next to him the last few years, interjecting that if they were to ever visit New England, they should of course go to Salem and tour the original witch trial locations. The trio would excitedly dream of this vacation that, of course, would never happen; but the idea got them through the disappointment of reality and that was enough. This grumpiness exuding from Janus was … new and a bit bleak in comparison.

“Peachy,” Janus sighed, sinking deeper into the couch. Fall on the dark side was different, though not by much, at least when Virgil had been around. A similar scene would take place; Virgil and Remus chattering eagerly about the ghosts lingering in Massachusetts bay colony. They would skip the Salem memorial of course (how boring) and go straight for the witch house. Stand before the creaky jury section and soon the pair would be acting out a scene in the dark side living room where Virgil angrily accuses Remus of being a witch. Guilty as fuck! Remus would cheer and the conversation would go on to discussing execution methods. Janus, the while, would be there still, curled on the couch with a warm blanket and perhaps a cup of tea, half enjoying the show and half skimming a book. a simpler time.

“You don’t look … very peachy,” Patton dithered. Janus looked … how did Janus look? Gears clicked into place and he suddenly brightened up again. “Oh, you’re cold, right!”

“Acute observation, darling.” Janus retorted, eyes remaining shut.

“No, I mean yes but,” Patton paused to gather his words. “Because you wear gloves. I didn't get it a few months ago but now I do!” He glanced around; admittedly, he wasn’t the type to get very cold frequently. The odd chill might occur but it wasn’t ever anything so drastic as this. What helped? Patton pondered and then his eyes rested on the stove in the next room. “How about some hot chocolate?”

Janus peeked an eye open, betraying his interest. Patton knew he had quite the sweet tooth. “Hot chocolate?”

“Yeah!” Patton grinned, holding his hands out in a ‘stop’ motion despite Janus not having moved in the slightest for several minutes now. “You stay right there, I’ll be right back with two mugs of piping hot chocolate!”

Janus pursed his lips to the side, stifling his own version of an endeared grin. Instead his shoulders curled in as his posture relaxed, signaling that he was very content to continue not moving whatsoever. Though Patton had already dashed away before Janus could manage a reply.

Homemade hot chocolate certainly sounds like a complicated undertaking, and perhaps it would’ve taken longer than fifteen minutes if Patton had bothered to measure anything out; but he likened the process to baking, which he and Janus always did while measuring everything with their hearts, tastebuds, and instincts. By the time Patton reentered the living room, balancing two tall mugs topped with a gluttonous amount of whipped cream and caramel, Janus had managed to sink even deeper into the couch. His hat had gone askew with the submerging movement, blanket now covering the lower half of his face but even so, a slight shiver had developed in his legs, which at some point had been pulled up off the ground and were being held with loose arms.

“I hope you’re ready for something delicious!” Patton had started as he walked in, though his enthusiasm deflated as his eyes registered Janus’ position. “Oh Jan,” Patton sighed with a frown. “Here, here,” he urged, sitting on the couch as softly as he could manage.

Janus grunted quietly, having almost dozed off before Patton had returned. “Oh, thank you,” he murmured automatically once he came back to his senses. He wormed an arm out of the blanket burrito with a bit of effort as Patton carefully handed him the hot chocolate. “Well it certainly looks delicious,” Janus commented as he brought the warm thing to his chest.

Patton smiled and held his own mug at his lap, watching as Janus tested the whipped cream with a quick lick. “Oh, I’d give it a second to cool--” Patton cautioned, face immediately falling as Janus’ mouth pressed against the mug’s lip, but the warning was lost on him as the steaming drink was sipped. Patton’s eyes went wide as Janus gave no indication of discomfort from having drank near-boiling hot chocolate but instead, looked entirely too pleased.

“It tastes even better than it looks,” Janus complimented as the warmth spread down his throat and through his chest, relieving some of the chill that was accumulating in his bones.

“Jeez…” Patton mumbled. “You really were that cold, huh.”

Janus hummed, taking another, bigger sip as he adjusted himself to sit properly. Patton gazed with a fond smile as Janus seemed to come back to reality with each warm sip. The blanket slipped back down to his lap and his knees eventually fell to be sitting cross legged instead of being held at his chest defensively. It made him nostalgic in an odd way. Some old memory itched at his mind; the vague image of them as children, twelve or perhaps thirteen, huddled under a blanket fort the twins, then about eight or nine, had insisted on making. Janus wasn’t as cold back then, but still…

As naturally as he had in the memory, Patton reached an arm around Janus’ shoulders; affection as impulsive as ever. Janus stiffened, unprepared for the feeling, unused to simply being touched with kindness, but the confidence in Patton’s movement had him relaxing after a few moments.

“What are you doing,” Janus mumbled quietly into the rim of the ceramic mug held at his mouth. Although his words were a bit harsh, the tone was shy and the fact that he hadn’t simply sat up or moved away evidence that he enjoyed it, at least a little.

“We used to do this as kids, didn’t we?” Patton questioned, a smile wide in his soft voice as he sank back into the cushions as well, side pressing against Janus in a casual way.

Janus hummed and took a tentative sip of his cocoa. That was true, but it was a different now. Janus looked down at the hand that hovered at a natural angle near his collarbone. The skin against the back of his neck was warm. Not as warm as Remus of course, but warm enough to keep the chill away. He peeked from the side of his eyes; Patton rested easily next to him, head turned to watch the wind in the trees through their sliding glass door. Did it have to be so different now?

Chapter Text

“Oh,” Patton sighed under his breath as he glanced at the date on his phone. With a mental gear clicking into place, the melancholy that had hung around him like a storm cloud all day suddenly made sense.

“Hm?” Janus hummed absentmindedly as he turned a page in his book. It’d been a while since either of them spoke, having just been enjoying the silent company during their respective hobbies.

“Huh?” Patton distractedly turned his head towards Janus without moving his eyes. “Oh, nothing,” he dismissed instinctually, glancing between the quietly droning television and the phone in his hands. It was just, he thought … Today was full of regret, wasn’t it. Today reminded him -- both of them -- that even in these quiet, pleasant moments, they lacked closure that could bring them true peace. Today marked the day Patton had woken up and found Janus missing.

They had fought, which was becoming a typical thing, unfortunately. The older they got, the less they seemed to agree on. Patton wondered when it started but the question made him even more depressed; looking back on their childhood so far, there were few times they had a natural middle ground. Mostly … mostly it was compromising -- but compromising felt impossible lately.

These thoughts swirled in the young teen’s mind all night and no sleep was had. His blanket was too hot but the air was too cold. His pajamas shifted uncomfortably and frustration built. Guiltily, he wondered if things would be easier if Janus just … wasn’t around anymore. The thought came and went so quickly that Patton hardly had a reason to think very hard on it. He dismissed it immediately with panicked thoughts about how helpful Janus was, how much Janus taught him, how fun it was to be around Janus when they weren’t fighting … But, he reconsidered sadly, they always did start to fight eventually. It was the worst when Thomas needed to make some decision about his friends or brothers ... When it came down to it, Janus usually said that Patton was wrong and while that annoyed him, Janus usually had very good points. But Morality was becoming disheartened, disillusioned with Self Preservation’s … selfish tactics.

Did that mean they had to stop getting along altogether? That Janus needed to go away, or whatever? No, absolutely not; Patton was resolute in that much. Even if they kept fighting, Patton wanted him around. He knew he couldn’t stand arguing like this because he treasured Janus so much. It was a pain, to love someone you could hardly ever get along with, but that didn’t mean you had to do away with the whole friendship!

As the sun rose, optimistically Patton decided that it didn’t matter if they argued. As long as they found a common ground in the end, everything would be just fine.

With that conviction, Patton rolled out of bed and patted down his unruly hair. The dawn outside his window streamed pale sunlight on the dew-moistened dandelion weeds in the yard. Early mornings like these had a stillness that Patton enjoyed; but today wasn’t the kind of day where he could stare out the window until Creativity came to ask for breakfast.

Today he had to go apologize to Janus. He would explain his thought process succinctly (a new vocabulary word Logic had taught him just the other day) and get through to him. Then they’d find a work around to whatever yesterday’s problem had been and move on. They’d do that as many times as they needed to, for the rest of their lives, Patton told himself, sliding his feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers. Janus would listen. Even if he had just woken up and still had bedhead, Patton would confidently insist on talking before the others started their day.

Exiting his room, Patton turned with raised knuckles to knock on Self Preservation’s door, which he expected to be right next to his as it had been their entire lives. Only today was different. Patton paused and stared at the unblemished wall; processing took a moment as his scattered brain reached for justifications. Did he turn the wrong direction? His head snapped to the other side of the hall; his eyes rested on Fear’s room. Did he forget his glasses? The raised hand reached for his face, colliding with the plastic frame before they could hit his eyes. Then … where was Self Preservation’s door?

“J-Janus?” Patton stuttered, dread dispelling the sleep from his voice. Wide eyes looked up and down the hall frantically but there was no sign of the metal door that had begun to gleam yellow lately. His breathing quickened. “Janus!” Patton yelled, forgetting the others that slept just feet away. Both hands began to uselessly beat against the wall. Maybe his door was behind the wallpaper? The drywall? Patton's throat constricted and he could imagine how terrified Janus must be if that was the case. “Preservation! Hang on! I’m coming to help!” His nails dug into the wallpaper and he viciously tore it back, sliver by sliver.

“Patton?” Creativity’s voice came from behind, interrupting his panic. “What’s going on?” he questioned, groggily rubbing his eyes. Just behind him poked the unmistakable curly hair of the other Creativity.

“Mowality?” The green-clad Creativity, who had a very hard time pronouncing his Rs, placed a hand on Roman’s shoulder, attempting to push him down to see better. “Where’s Pwezzi?” he asked frailly, appearing to catch on faster than his brother. Remus put more effort into shoving Roman aside, making room for himself in their doorway.

“Hey wait, yeah,” Roman said as he reached the great conclusion finally, stumbling to the side clumsily.

“I --” Patton hesitated, fistfuls of wallpaper between his fingers. Its absence revealed nothing more than typical drywall. “I don’t know, I,”  he dragged in a ragged breath and his knees began to feel weak.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Remus elbowed Roman aside as he stepped forward, eliciting a slighted hey and a pout from the latter. Remus ignored him, confusion and anger quickly becoming blinding. “That's where his woom’s supposed to be, wight?” His eyes grew dark. This wasn’t right. Preservation wouldn’t just take his door and leave, at least not without telling Remus where he was going first. The pair had bonded immensely, as long as Remus could remember (which wasn’t very long indeed, but still), Preservation was the only one to encourage his ideas. The only one to console him when the others would dismiss him or cower in fear. Remus nothing short of loved Preservation and he was very certain that Preservation felt the same. “What did you do with him?”

“Do with him? I --” Patton blinked up at the intense Creativity. It was all so hard to process; had he done something? That’s what Remus was saying at least. He had done something and Janus … Janus went away? Where did he go? Patton’s legs gave out and he slowly slid down the wall to kneel on the ground, unable to support himself under the growing weight on his shoulders. “Did I do something…” he whispered to himself.

“I don’t know,” Remus spat, standing over Patton. “I bet Pwezzi would though, he always knows more than you.”

“Remus, stop it,” Roman chimed in, reaching forward to push his brother away from Patton by the shoulder. “Can’t you see how sad he is already? Go easy,” he insisted, repeating words Patton had taught him -- something about empathy or whatever -- but Remus knew Roman wasn’t close with Self Preservation like he was, and therefore couldn’t understand why he was ready to punch Patton’s lights out.

“Creativity, what are you doing to Morality?” Logic spoke up from down the hall, voice growing louder as he approached.

“Nothin’,” Remus glared down at the crumpled teen, “But you should ask him what he did with Pwezzi.”

“Self Preservation?” Logic blinked at the wall, joining the group at a distance. “Ah,” he breathed in his soft morning voice, suddenly understanding. “His door is missing?”

“Yupp,” Remus’ tone dripped with contempt and impatience.

“Well, there’s no need to hurt Morality for that,” Logic said, continuing to speak quickly before anyone could interrupt him. “I bet he has an explanation, you just haven’t given him time to say it,” Remus clicked his tongue, rolled his eyes in that same way Janus would. He mumbled a brief whatever as he crossed his arms. “Morality?” Logic questioned, leaning to the side to meet Patton’s hazy eyes. “Care to explain what’s going on?”

But Patton didn’t have an explanation, as much as he wished he did, at the very least for Logic’s sake right then. He blinked up at the youngest Side who waited for a plausible excuse. Patton wondered why Logic’s face was so blurry, why his own cheeks and neck were wet, why wallpaper was so hard to peel off walls, and why explaining himself was so damn hard.

Sunset seemed to come earlier these days for Janus. He had changed the lightbulbs in his room & the hallway just outside a handful of times, thinking each was far too dim. Logic suggested that, like him, he may need glasses. That solution didn’t feel right. Something awful was coming, Janus thought. It didn’t take much skepticism to see that, but the child was sparsely scorned. With no experience to say where his distrust should be placed, he had resorted to relying solely on himself.

Having slowly withdrawn from the others over the last few months, Morality and he had fought more often, unable to see eye to eye when they were looking at very different things. Janus couldn’t manage the words to explain himself in any way that didn’t make him sound deluded, and Patton had enough trouble providing exposition for things far less serious. In the end, the ice had gotten very thin, indeed -- and Janus wasn’t the type to stick around in such perilous conditions.

Self Preservation resigned himself to it, though that wasn’t to say the transition wasn’t horrible.

The walls of his room had been creaking lately, but tonight was the worst yet. Janus was hardly anything more than a rickety sailor, huddled in a leaky cabin, yielding to the sea’s will. It had been dark in here all day despite the sun having just set. He sighed at the ceiling lamp, disappointed in its dim bulbs. His fight with Patton ended with a slammed door that sent his feeble walls shaking. They had settled down for a bit, but as Janus went to bed in a vain attempt to sleep, they awakened. The walls seemed to bend, bulge, and depress like something behind them oozed with a great pressure. It reminded him of something Remus would describe but seeing it for himself made his stomach turn. Soon the floors joined and his bed was tossed almost rhythmically, like the thing was jumping rope.

“Patton!” Janus sat up immediately and called for his friend next door. In the dark, he squinted at the walls, attempting to discern where in the room he was now as his heart rate skyrocketed. Where was the door?! He had to get out of here or else -- ! The edges of the room where the floor met the walls began to disappear, like a great shadow consumed them in a gradient that threatened his position on the bed more and more with each rapidly approaching second. Janus panted, eyes wide with alarm.

“Patton! Help!” he screamed, finally realizing his door was just ahead. The idea of stepping on the ground sent goosebumps all over his body, made his toes curl in disgust. Would he sink right through it? Where would he end up? Janus climbed forward on his bed, reached with all his might towards his door handle.

“Patton! Remus! Someone! Just -- A little …” He groaned with effort as his arm stretched well beyond its normal length. His fingers grazed the polished door knob & the rounded image of a terrified child stared back at him in the reflective metal. Suddenly, his breath was stolen as a haunting laugh echoed through the room. His body froze and, all at once, his door began shrinking. It shrank and shrank and if Janus could breathe, he’d be reminded of that one scene from Alice in Wonderland. If he was one of the twins, he might’ve dreamed up a Drink Me potion that’d shrink him down to size as well. Unfortunately, his imagination had never been half as impactful. Escaping now an impossibility, Janus threw his hands over his head & cowered as the floor rolled violently.

With one last twist, it opened up like some awful, giant mouth. His bed began to fall & he along with it. A final effort welled in his chest & for a moment, the child thought whatever horrific thing had been laughing at him found its way inside, & that it would soon burst from his skin. Janus screamed with the finishing inches of his will, all the fear & anguish in his heart tearing from his throat. He would die here, he thought as his feet & then his legs disappeared into the void. He would die here & then so would Thomas; he would fail his purpose & never see Patton or Remus or any of the others ever again. With that daunting realization, four new appendages erupted from him, aiming for the walls; they dug their nails in & held on tighter than Janus thought was possible.

He panted heavily, staring down at the damning blackness. He didn’t want to go down there. Did he have to? Janus looked for his door again & his eyes watered at the sight of his unblemished, inescapable wall. His heart ached & tears rolled quickly down his cheeks. Was he really dying? The walls bulged again, seeming sentient with the intent of shaking him off. Janus wailed as his nails tore. The sound cut off abruptly as the void beneath him whispered something other than a laugh for once. Come. You’ll be okay.

The voice was hardly reassuring, but the words stopped his tears. Of course he would be okay, he agreed with a ragged breath. This wasn’t death. Janus didn’t know what it was, but he did know he had no choice but to be okay. He was Self Preservation, after all. He wouldn’t, couldn’t fail Thomas. If these shadows were his only choice, he’d brave them with his chin up & every shred of dignity he had.

“I’ll be okay,” His shaky voice whispered down into the void. With that resolve, he put his new arms away & succumbed.

Despite having landed several minutes ago now, Janus’ vision still swam behind his eyelids. His stomach lurched and the dinner he and Patton had made together before their fight threatened up his throat. Eventually, he told himself, eventually he’d open his eyes and have a look around wherever he was now, but for several minutes ‘eventually’ felt like ‘never.’ Maybe never would do, actually; maybe he could just carry on with his eyes closed, never having to see where exactly he was now. Another laugh breezed through the room and Janus’ eyes shot open.

But nothing new was in sight. As usual, his bed rested in the middle of his room, headboard against the window that seemed to grow taller every day; his walls were lined with books and trinkets and music records. Even his door was right there, normal sized and sturdy, gleaming with a yellow tint lately; the edges frayed out like snowflakes or broken glass in an intricate way that almost seemed like a pattern. Janus blinked. Had he imagined it? Hesitantly, he crept a foot out of bed, touched the cold ground with his toes and didn’t sink right through. Was it just a nightmare? He stood.

“W-who’s there?” he asked of the laugh, turning around dizzily and slowly making his way to the door. “Fear? Is that you?” Janus’ tone became indignant despite his discomfort. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working,” he lied.

He collided backwards into the door with a fright and his hand reached for the knob at an awkward angle. For some reason, the idea of turning his back on the room raised hair on his arms. Once the door was open enough, Janus slid out quickly.

Turning around now that he had escaped his own room, his stomach sank further. Like every day, he exited into their hallway; the same hallway young Thomas’ own room was on, except none of the usual doors were there. The empty walls stared back at him seriously, as though to answer his unasked question with a very monotonous, what did you expect?

He gripped his doorknob tight with white knuckles, like he was ready for the thing to try and disappear on him again. For a long time, Janus stood there and not even Logic came to complain about the light being on this late; mostly, Janus convinced himself, because the lightbulb needed to be changed again. It was quite awfully dark.

Patton blinked his unfocused eyes on the figures arguing on screen, holding the phone in his hand rather dumbly. “I just realized what today was,” he mumbled, several moments having passed since the last time he spoke.

Janus slid his gaze to Patton under his lashes, hardly moving at all in the process. while Morality’s eyes were trained on the screen, the limp way his hand hung was almost … concerning. Did he even see what was on tv right now?

“Mm,” he hummed carelessly despite staring hard at the reflection in Patton’s eyes. “Yes.”

“So you already knew,” Patton’s head fell like the thing had been too heavy for him. A hand came up to nervously flatten the unruly hair at the back of his neck. Of course Janus already knew. Janus knew almost everything. At least when it came to stuff like this. He wasn’t Logan, but he was perceptive and knowledgeable in his own way. In a way that scared Patton sometimes. “I don’t know what to say,” he said slowly to the rug beneath his feet.

“Is there anything to say?” Janus quipped without much thought. Of course there were plenty of things to say, plenty of things he’d like to hear on the topic, but he’d rather eat all six of his own hands than admit he needed that.

Patton nodded shallowly, Janus watched him grow progressively more listless, afraid the phone in his hand would slip out at any moment. Patton was getting … well, not good, but at least less worse at detecting when Janus was deflecting, or masking, or pretending or whatever he called it. Patton had at least started to assume that, if he had something to say, he should just say it in instances like these. Janus’ reactions were hardly ever bad. His quips and jabs may as well, in Patton’s eyes, be pressing for him to continue. So while Janus might genuinely mean that there was nothing to be said about what had happened, Patton could think of a few things that he wanted to say anyway.

“I guess that’s true. It’s been so long, I hardly remember why it happened in the first place,” Janus’ mouth watered as the sweetness of a lie wafted in the air. “But I know it was my fault,” Patton said with more resolution, reaching to wrap fingers around his arm, causing his shoulders to pull in on themselves. “S-so,” he looked up at Janus who had still been staring too hard. Meeting Patton’s gaze, he blinked and raised his chin almost as if to say he wasn’t staring by accident, but that the act was very purposeful. “I wanted to say sorry.”

Janus’ throat tightened and he rolled his eyes, turning his head away. “Good grief,” he mumbled dismissively, but his voice shook. What the hell did he do with that? Prattle on about forgiveness? His nose scrunched in distaste as he hastily pushed his emotions down, squashing the small thing inside him that wanted to look Patton in the eye and thank him for the apology. Instead he inhaled slowly through his nose. “It’s been nearly 15 years, Pat. If I was still resentful, would I be here? With you?”

“Oh, well resent doesn’t have anything to do with it,” Patton rushed, shaking his head as he turned to face the other. If Janus ever looked back at Patton, he’d see a pout, but he was very incapable of moving at all right then. “I don’t think you hate me or anything, like you said,” Patton exhaled a humored and exasperated sound as his eyes fell to his lap, “You’re here, with me, and you have been so much lately,” For the last few months, they had been spending so much time together, ever since they agreed to start putting Thomas’ problems first. Patton had been elated. Terrified of hurting Janus or even Thomas again, terrified of messing up, terrified of losing him all over again, but so damn happy with just getting to see Janus that none of it mattered.

Patton’s heart pounded uncomfortably and his next sigh shook with the movement. “I don't think you hate me or even that you’re too upset about it anymore,” His hand squeezed to put a bruise in his own arm. “But I do think you deserve to hear me say I'm sorry, because it’s the truth.”

Janus’ head fell slowly as he silently folded the book in his lap. Why did Patton always have the pesky habit of being so troublesome and accurate? It was very much one thing for Janus to be able to see through Patton, that was expected in every right; but how was it that Patton could see through him?

“How do you do that,” Janus whispered, not trusting his voice to be any louder as he reached a gloved hand up to wipe the dampness from under his eye.

“Huh? Do what?” Patton asked urgently, hands fluttering behind Janus’ back, unsure if he would appreciate touch or space at a time like this. Mostly, Patton felt fear and worry as Janus somehow grew smaller with each tear, but as usual another voice chimed in to berate himself for making Janus cry in the first place. He was stupid and clumsy. Why on earth did he think talking about this, of all things, was a good idea? “I'm sorry,” Patton said again for a different reason now, lost on how to help but so desperately wanting to.

“How do you just know what to say?” Janus said with too much venom in his mouth. Patton shrunk away slightly, hands balled at his chest before he heard Janus sniffle. He thought over Janus’ words again; how do you just know what to say. That was … a good thing then? He said the right thing? As for how ...

“Well, I’dunno,” Patton mumbled after a pause, hands hesitantly unfurling from his chest to reach out. Slowly he placed feather-light fingers between Janus’ shoulder blades. He leaned forward to try and catch his eye. Janus flinched as he wiped his nose and made a quiet, disgusted sound. “I don’t know how I know what to say,” Patton said repetitively as he scooched closer. “Maybe,” he inhaled, hand sliding down to the small of Janus’ back as he offered a wistful smile. “Maybe it’s just easier to tell the truth and speak from the heart when you know and love someone like this.”

That wasn’t a new revelation to Janus, of course. He could speak very easily to Remus, someone he had loved for most of their lives now; but hearing Patton say it in this context felt … different. Different in a way that made him swallow the lump in his throat. The tears on his cheeks evaporated with no new ones trickling down to keep them wet. Patton loved him. Of course, the cynical part of him said so clearly, it might as well have been another person in the room. Of course Patton loves you, all these weeks of indulging his childishness, buttering him up for the inevitable moment Thomas asks for your help and your help alone. You’ve tricked him, he thinks you’re a good person, whatever the hell that means. Of course he loves you. The bitterness dripped off of Janus’ inner voice like venom from a snake poised to strike, but there was a smaller, much more genuine part of him that rang softly like church bells: Patton loves me.

Janus turned his head to meet Patton’s round and doleful expression. Somehow, even through the pensiveness of this conversation, the edges of his lips had remained subtly upturned, like for once Janus was being kept on the outside of some greater secret. The possibility made his mouth curve lopsided in return; if Patton knew something he didn’t, then good for him. As quick as the smile had appeared, however, it fell as Janus’ eyes met Patton’s. His mouth opened but he soon found no words on his tongue as the heat from Patton’s hand on his back penetrated his clothing and warmed his icey skin. Janus looked away, far too aware of how close they were sitting, far too aware of his shoulder turned against Patton’s chest.

“Jan?” Patton whispered. Before Janus could offer more than a raspy hum in return, Patton had reached with his free hand to brush a thumb along the tear stains on Janus’ cheek. The air wooshed from his lungs in a contented sigh as he rested his hand against the offered palm, smiling shyly up at Patton. There was a time not long ago when Janus thought Patton was weak and naive; now he couldn’t imagine thinking Morality was anything but stronger than him, now happy to lean on him when necessary. Even in the literal sense.

“Can I kiss you?” Patton asked and there was a moment where Janus stopped breathing before the panic set in on Patton’s face. Had he said that outloud? His eyes grew wide with fear, the repercussions of his impulsive words looming like something frightful and Janus felt the muscles in Patton’s hand tense as he prepared to pull away. Quickly, his own hand came up to cover Patton’s against his cheek as he eagerly nodded.

“Yes. Please,” he sat up a bit straighter, turning to face Patton more as he twined their fingers together. “Please kiss me,” Janus said like it was the one thing he blew birthday candles out for.

The panic in Patton’s eyes subsided into hope; hope that Janus had actually meant that, hope that it wasn’t just a joke. Slowly he smiled as his face brightened again and the view wasn’t unlike seeing a sunrise on the light side, Janus thought.

“Okay,” Patton breathed with a nod. He let their hands fall together into their laps, the hand he had on Janus’ back slid up it in a way that arched his spine before it settled on his scaly cheek. Patton leaned in and paused with his lips hovering the corner of Janus’ mouth. He looked up in an attempt to meet Janus eyes to gauge his expression, but they were closed. That was a good thing, right? Oh, why was he so nervous. He almost felt nauseous with it all. Suddenly he was aware of how tight he was gripping Janus’ hand; he wanted to let go, pull back and apologize, but how could he let a moment like this go that easily? Would he ever get another chance? Patton swallowed anxiously before steeling himself to press a chaste kiss against the skin where his cheek met his mouth. Janus leaned into the feeling of Patton’s lips on him as his own parted with a sigh.

Patton pulled away slightly, Janus blinked as the moment passed faster than he anticipated.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “that was hardly a kiss,” he whispered in amusement, “what are we, twelve, Pat?”

“I didn't know how far you wanted me to go,” Patton pouted, making Janus chuckle softly.

He leaned harder into the hand against his cheek, nuzzled blithely into it as he looked up at Patton from under his lashes. “Please kiss me,” he repeated sweetly.

Patton’s cheeks became dusted with a rosy red as he nodded eagerly. Again he leaned forward, this time aligning their mouths. He felt Janus’ hand gripping the hem of his shirt in a way that felt almost desperate. Patton paused as their lips brushed against each other; Janus’ fingers flexed wantingly as his mouth parted again. hot breaths mingled between them before their mouths met softly. The kiss was shy, all the energy kept in their hands for fear of going too far. Brows creased with restraint; when they pulled apart, it took everything from both of them not to dive back into each other.

Their breaths came down to a gentle pace as Janus’ forehead fell to Patton’s shoulder. It was comfortable in a very natural way, Patton realized, to wrap his arms around Janus.

“Pat?” Janus said quietly as warm silence enveloped them.

“Yeah, Jan?” Patton squeezed him gently and Janus sucked in a breath that didn’t shake as much as he thought it would.

“I -- I love you, too.”