Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Deceit sat on his bed, gripping a long, plush yellow snake tightly in his hands. His yellow gloves concealed his white knuckles, paling from his unwaveringly firm grip. However, his body shook from bitten back sobs. He tried desperately to not let his tears fall down his cheeks but they slipped out anyways, streaming down his face and creating small dark spots on the duel-headed snakes head that rested in his lap as they fell.
Their words still echoed in his brain.

“What were you doing?!”

“You where what!? Trying to help him!?”

“Tat is not our job! We are supposed to prove Thomas is a bad person!”

“You are not one of us- get out!”

“I said GET OUT! How DARE you want to be one of them!”

If he's not one of them, who was he? He knew the answer he wanted. But it was a lie, that would never happen. They hated him. Everyone hated him. He was either too bad, or too good. Grey.

How did Anxiety suffer through this, and manage to make it out to the light? Deceit already wanted to go back, to say he lied. That he didn't want to help Thomas, and it's only been an hour since everything went down. His hand fell to his chest, the logo he made almost ripped off of him. He gently pulled off his cloak, running his hands over the tears. Everything needed a bit of mending. Hard work and time for nothing. At least it would take his mind off things.

---

On the floor, clothes and fabric strewn around him, Deceit silently mended his clothes. He had pulled his gloves off, occasionally carelessly pricking himself on the needle. His mind still focused on what had been done to his poor logo. His emblem, he spent hours coming up with something, he made that damn thing himself. He wasn't going to let anyone rip it from him. Even if he wasn't… One of them…. It was still his. He can dream. It was never going to happen, but that's what dreams are for. They didn't get him. They don't understand him. He works different than them, but so what? They should be accepting! But no. He's a liar. He can never change that. They wouldn't believe them.

Yet he still wanted to be part of their group. Helping Thomas made him feel better. Even if they didn't understand that, that he wanted to help, it still felt better. When they saw he was right, that he had a point, for a moment he felt ok. He wanted to show that Thomas was lying to himself. But no. They thought he was trying to show Thomas was a bad person. They didn't understand him. And he was rushed out in the end, pushed and shoved away like the villian they thought he was.

There. The mending was done. Goes by fast when you aren't thinking about it. Unfortunately. There goes his distraction, wasted. He carefully folded his cape, now in perfect condition, the seams hardly noticeable. What now... He could start another project, make another snake? Couldn't go wrong with that. Or… Deceit stood, rummaging through piles of papers, before pulling out a scrapped project. Small dolls, designed replicas of each of the “light” sides. Scrapped out of fear. They'd find it weird. But he could still make himself. Alright, dolls it is. Deceit dug out materials, tan fabric and green sequins and buttons and on and on. He buried himself in work. Work that required attention and thought, work he could use to distance and distract himself from his problems. To Ignore the fact he's in the grey now, not the light and not the dark. Despite his distracted mind, tears still ran down his face.

Chapter Text

Deceit wasn’t expecting making a doll of himself to be hard. He was very wrong.
Not that it was actually difficult, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually put an effort into making the doll look good. He laid on the floor on his back, adorned in bright yellow smiley face pajama pants and a loose black tee shirt. He sighs as he stared up at the doll he held in his hands. It’s seams were loose and sloppy, stuffing poking out. The eyes were slightly lopsided, one already in the process of falling out. Despite getting out mounds of sequins for scales, he never bothered to sew them on. The doll hardly looked like him.

“Oh Joy, what should I do?” Deceit signed, his hands falling to the floor, the doll of him tumbling out of his hands. The large plush snake he referred to as Joy lay across his stomach, and unsurprisingly, remained silent.

“I know, I know. I can do better. I know that. I just… not with me. Not with mine” he pulled Joys face close to his own, holding her large plushie heads in the air. The rest of her piled on the floor, the plushie snake in her entirety longer then Deceit himself.

“What if I start on one of the others? Huh, Joy? I know I thought I’d never actually make theirs but… It would be a fun challenge. I know they’d just love it ” Sarcasm dripped off of Deceits words. They could never ever see these dolls. He’d never live it down. He’d be in the grey forever.

“You are the best, Joy, you know that?” Deceit laughed to himself, sitting up and hugging Joy close. “You’re all I need. Screw everyone else. At least you listen to me. And you’re a snake! What more could I even ask for?” He sighed, pressing his face against the careful detailing of Joy’s faces.

“Well,” Deceit stood up, still hugging Joy close against him, “who should I work on first?” Deceit dragged him and joy across the room, rummaging through materials. “Anxiety is going to be the hardest, and he really hates me. The past is hard to forget. So, not him. Not yet.”

“What about Roman? That’s his name right?”

“Why? Why not! He took me ssseriously at least! For a little while that is! Better than the rest of them! At least he lissstened!” Deceit dropped Joy, shaking in anger. Tears suddenly threatened to spill. Why wouldn’t anyone ever listen to him!

Then he stopped.

“Oh, oh goodness. I’m sorry Joy, so so sorry. You deserve so much better than that. I don’t know what came over me.” He sat down on the floor, running his hand over Joys body.
“Emotions are a funny thing, aren’t they? They hurt the most when you claim you don’t need them”. Despite his calm tone of voice, tears began to trickle down. “I just wish they’d listen. You know, I see them sometimes, and how they treat each other?.. it was never like that with them.” Deceit sat in silence for a while, letting his tears fall. Eventually, he rubbed his eyes.

“Let’s make Roman’s plush. He seemed upset. ‘The one and lonely’ I think he said?” Deceit pulled himself back to his feet, gathering vibrant crimson and glittering gold for the prince himself.

Chapter Text

Deceit told himself he wasn't going to ever let the dolls see the light. So why was he standing outside of Romans room with the doll in his hands?

To be fair, it was the dead of night. Deceit was the only soul up. Hopefully, he thought. He couldn't stand the mere idea of getting caught like this. They'd laugh at him, mock him. Think he's a creepy, or that its a voodoo doll to hurt them. If they knew it was him. But they wouldn't. They couldn't find out, not now. Maybe… maybe if they liked him. If he was one of them. He could tell them then. But that would never happen. He's a villain, and that's how he was going to stay, whether he liked it or not. A pang of hurt rang through his heart at that thought, it did every time.

Deceit carefully wedged the delicate doll between the door handle, smoothing down the wrinkles to keep the doll in perfect condition. He smiled to himself at the hand-eye work, the hidden stitches and the embroidered gold, the small silver sword, the vibrant reds. He was good for something, at least. Deceit bit his lip, backing away from the door. Now to leave. As he walked down the hallway, someone cleared their throat.
No
Oh god no nononono-
Deceit froze, looking over his shoulder, praying his panic was masked by shadows. Anxiety peered out at Deceit, his hair rumpled and eyes low from sleep.

“What are you doing?” Anxiety mustered out quietly, rubbing his eyes. Deceit opened his mouth to speak, but his throat closed up in fear. He slowly backed up into the shadows, tears threatening to spill.
They can't find out.
He'll tell them, he will ruin everything.
He hates me.
Virgil stepped closer, anger now seeping into his voice, “what are you doing over here?”. Deceit tried again to speak, only to be met with tears.

“You don't belong over here, go back. I won't say a word if you go back now. Be glad I'm too tired for this.” Anxiety warned. Deceit mustered to nod, taking off down the hallway to his room, managing to not slam the door shut.

His breathing caught with a sob, falling against the door.
“Stupid stupid stupid-” he whimpered, eyes burning.
“Idiot who can't even speak up for himself.” He tore at his hair before standing upright, snatching Joy off the floor.
“I can't do anything right! I can't do anything good!” His knuckles turned white, both hands gripping the plush snake.
“I just… jussst can't do anything!”

Rriiippp

Horror flooded Deceits thoughts as stuffing split to the floor. His breathing halted, the stuffed victims body dropping to the floor.
“J-joy?” The words were strangled and quiet as he spoke. His heart pounded relentlessly in his chest. His knees gave out as he collapsed to the floor, full sobs escaping him now. He felt as if he was in genuine and horrible pain, as his he was being crushed, constricted. Breathing felt impossible as if his tears were trying to drown him.

“I'll n-never do anything right.” despite the whisper, the words felt suffocating.

Chapter Text

Every stitch had to be perfect. For her. For his pride and joy. Maybe it was dumb, maybe he was just lonely, but this plush snake meant everything to him. She was there for him through everything, she put up with him. And apparently just that is a lot to ask for. Each stitch was painstaking, pricking himself repeatedly in the dim room. His hands shook from exhaustion, the sun beginning to rise as he worked. He worked to make it seem like she had never been mangled by his filthy hands. Perfect. Pristine.

He could barely keep his eyes open when he finished, his vision blurring. His throat hurt and eyes burned from crying, unsure when he had stopped. His body felt weak. His arms numb, his hands cramping. Deceit managed to pull Joy close against his body before allowing himself to crash to the floor. He doesn’t remember hitting the floor

—

“Gooooood morning world! Your favorite prince is awake- huh?” Roman paused his greeting, finding resistance with his doorknob. He peered to the outside of his door to find a gift waiting for him. His eyes lit up up with awe and utter joy.

“What’s this?” Despite his excitement, he whispered in a hush tone. He gently pulled out the small but detailed doll, thoroughly appreciating its intricacy.

“All this for me? I HAVE to find out who made thing and thank him. The sheer creativity rivals with me!”

—-

When consciousness returned to him, the sun was beginning to set. His eyes fluttered open, a soft yawn escaping him. Despite sleeping on the floor, most of his pain had faded. Deceit, still holding Joy close, slowly sat up, his vision swirling a bit as he did. He rubbed his eyes and then pressed his face against Joy.

“Thank you,,,” he mumbled, not entirely sure why. For everything, he guessed. Deceit dragged himself to his feet, still bleary eyed.

“Who should we make next, Joy? Logan?” He inquired to the unresponsive room.

“I just feel… that maybe he doesn’t get enough credit. I feel a little bad I didn’t give him a role, but he would of made my fun a lot shorter.” Deceit looked through his materials.

“My fun was short as it was, it feels so long ago already. But the pain’s still fresh.” He mumbled, picking at the fabrics. He dug out only the most sophisticated clothes for Logan. At least this doll would have less tiny details. His poor pricked up fingers needed a rest from all that.

“Logan logan logan…” he murmured as he sprawled the supplies across the floor. His mind tried to crawl back to the events of the night before, but deceit shut it out. He had work to do and distract himself from that.

Chapter Text

Deceit paced his room endlessly. He could hear the other sides, talking and chatting happily. He just wanted to deliver Logan's doll unseen. Movie night, apparently. He just wanted to sleep.

They sounded so happy, almost tempting him to peek out to see exactly how happy they are. Happy that he's out of the way, that he's leaving them alone. He's not even a thought in their mind, he means nothing to him.

His hands were beginning to shake from the down spiraling thoughts. This is why he kept sewing. Keep his thoughts focused away from the dark. It hurt. It hurt so much. He felt so so alone. His only friend was Joy. A plush snake he made, he gave her life. He meant to treat her like a real snake, not a human and his only friend and comfort.

How pathetic is that?
Pathetic
I'm pathetic

Tears began to spill. He briefly wondered how he managed to cry so much

Pathetic

Why should he be surprised. It's all he's good at. Tears streamed faster as he leaned against the door. He couldn't hear the others anymore. He could finally deliver Logan's doll.

Pathetic

It's a menial task, he could handle it. As long as no one saw him. Deceit slowly cracked the door open, wiping away tears and peering down the hall. Empty. He slowly crept into the hall, tip toeing silently and holding the small doll close. Carefully, oh so carefully, he placed the doll against the door handle. Wiping his tears once again despite the still ongoing flow, he took off back into his room in panic.

Virgil watched silently from behind a corner, although watching from the dark. He saw enough to be suspicious.

Chapter Text

Patton was next. He didn’t even need to discuss it with Joy or himself. He just didn’t feel the will to make Anxiety.

Anxiety. He knew he went by Virgil. But he was mad at him, so Anxiety it was. He hurt him. It still hurts. His eyes still burned from the tears that has been spilt in The Who knows how many days. Time would pass him without him even realizing it. He’d spend days awake without rest sewing and sewing until his doll was done. He didn’t want to put it down until he finished it. Unless he was staining the fabric with blood from his pricked fingers, he wasn’t going to halt for his own health.

Patton’s doll was detailed, to say the least. It kept him distracted. Detailed stitches and small little animal paw prints on his cardigan over his shoulders. Another pair of tiny little glasses. Each detail was difficult, he couldn’t keep his hand from shaking, having to take a deep breath to do the tiniest details in hopes his hand steadies. The doll was tedious, making him dread the sheer detail that’ll go into Virgil- no, Anxiety doll. He wasn’t ready to forgive him yet.

There was a faint knocking on the door, causing Deceits heart to skip a beat before pounding in his chest. He bit his lip to stay quiet, shaking feverishly. They knocked again. Deceit couldn’t move, tears didn’t come but he wanted to sob. The silence was replaced by a very quiet voice.

“Um… Patton made some hot coco and uh…. insisted you get some too.” His lying was terrible.

“I’ll leave it outside your door.” Virgil whispered. Deceit could see through that easily. And yet he still questioned what’s true. Why would they ever make him hot coco? They hated him. Virgil hated him. Why would they ever do anything nice for him?

Deceit waited for the footsteps to fade before crawling over to the door. He carefully opened it and snatched the mug, pulling it inside. Somehow he managed to not spill the contents across his arm or the floor. It was fresh, steam still escaping the surface of the chocolate liquid, delicate marshmallows beginning to melt from the heat.

Maybe he was lying, maybe Patton did make him drink. Out of pity. Patton would do that. That makes sense. Virgil wouldn’t do something nice for him, that doesn’t make sense. The hot mug was starting to burn his hands a bit. He didn’t care. Virgil didn’t care about him. Patton only pitied him. That’s the only logical conclusion. He convinced himself of the lie. He couldn’t grasp the idea of the sides maybe caring about him. His shaking hands caused the hot drink to spill down the sides, singeing his palms. Tears still wouldn’t spill, they couldn’t. He didn’t have it in him to cry anymore.

He brought the hot coco to his lips, managing to drink it with minimal spillage and not caring how much it burned. He deserved it. He deserved the pain. He didn’t deserve this drink

Chapter Text

The hot cocoa was left half full and cold in the corner as Deceit finished Patton's doll. The minor burns on his hands only minorly hindered his progress. The sun hadn't quite set, so in the meantime Deceit began on Virgil's doll. It hurt a bit, working on Virgil. He felt conflicted, unsure of how to feel. Virgil had hurt him, he had yelled and scolded him until he broke. And yet a small, dim part of him hoped desperately that maybe the hot coco meant something. That is wasn't out of pity. His doubt started to extinguish that light in him, to drown out the flicker of hope in him. It stung like a needle in his heart.

Bit by bit, he hyper focused on Virgil's doll, it requiring more of his attention then the previous dolls. It was relaxing, he had feared this doll would bring the most pain to him, and it did at first. Now, with his attention entirely consumed, it hadn't had the chance. The sun had long slipped below the horizon, Deceit had yet to notice. Not until his stomach growled.

Food. When's the last time he ate? His stomach decided to curl and crunch itself into a coil, yelling at him for neglecting it. Deceit glanced up, caught off guard at the lack of sun. He pulled himself up, snatching up Patton's doll. He approaches the door nervously, listening intently for footsteps. Silence. He had grown comfortable with silence, the happy chatter just made his eyes burn. He slipped out of his room into the dark hall.

---

After delivering Patrons doll and raiding the kitchen as quickly and silently as possible, he hide back into his room. He quietly took a bite of the Poptart, letting out a quiet happy sigh, almost immediately feeling better. Pop tarts weren't exactly a meal, but it was the easiest thing to snag quickly. He didn’t want to get caught, he didn’t want to go through that again. Deceit returned his attention to Virgil’s doll, his small hoodie almost done. He had piles of purple threats around him, having been indecisive about which one to use. He had messed up the slightest bit, the hoodie being a bit large on the doll. But it worked in the end, he tried to convince himself. It didn’t have to be perfect.

He couldn’t accomplish perfect. He couldn’t even be good, or ok, or even mediocre. How could he dare expect his work to be perfect. He was a failure. At least his work was better than he was.

Tears decided to greet him this time, but he ignored them, forcing himself to work twice as hard after taking a bite of his pop tart. The pop tart soon went entirely neglected as deceit worked for hours on end. He worked as if this doll could fix him if he made it good enough.
But it would never be perfect.

Chapter Text

He knew he was cutting it close. The sun was just about to rise but no one else was up yet. Virgil's doll lay finished in his hands. He would've delivered it sooner but at some point, he didn't recall when, he had passed out across Joy. Waking up to find he had lost hours of precious work time was not pleasing to find. His head was still cloudy with sleep, otherwise his rationality would be telling him to wait to deliver Virgil, when he knew he was 100% safe. But, after sleepily running a hand through his messy hair, he exited into the hall.

The sun rising in the quiet hallway was a peaceful sight. On one end, it was light and airy, where the “light sides” lived. On the other, it slowly darkened into the shadows, where the “dark sides” resided. Deceit and his room was planted firmly in the middle, where the light just began to fade. He took a deep shaky breath, shutting his eyes for a moment to hold himself together. He throat closed up for a moment, tears threatening to spill. He felt so so excruciatingly alone.

He's ok, it's ok. He just has to deliver the doll then he can go back to his room. He had Joy. He could talk to her. But first the doll.

Deceit walked down the hall slowly, careful to be as silent as possible. The wood floors reflected the sun's golden rays which creaked quietly with each step, enforcing fear into Deceits heart. He made it to Virgil's room, Fortunately the room closest to his. Well, it was. Logan's room had been slowly distancing itself from the others, almost passing Virgil's now. Deceit lingered in front of the door, holding the doll tightly, almost too tightly. He hesitantly went to put the door in place, only to have the door creak open.

Chapter Text

“I knew it! I knew it was you!” Virgil snatched Deceits arm, preventing him from running.

“I-” he tried, only to get cut off.

“I wasn't sure before, didn't get a good look at what the heck you where up to but,” Virgil paused, prying the doll out of Deceits hand and holding it in the air so he couldn't snatch it back, “this proves it!”.

Deceit wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear, Virgil was going to humiliate him. He was going to make all the others hate him.

“Virgil, too-tired-to-make-a nickname, what are you yelling about?” Roman opened his door, yawning and stretching slowly.

“Ro, you aren't gonna believe this-” Virgil let go of Deciets arm, rushing to Roman. He was frozen. He wanted to run but he couldn't. He wanted to cry out but he couldn't. He wanted to breathe but he couldn't.

“Whoa whoa wait, HE made these?” Roman took the doll from Virgil, looking it over in awe.

They thought he was a creep…

“I didn't believe it at first either, even when I saw him in the hall”

“Kiddos, what's all the ruckus? Is something wrong?”

Oh god they all where going to see. Tears blurred his vision. He managed to sink to the floor in absolute terror, burying his face in his arms. He couldn't watch anymore. He couldn't listen anymore. He muffled his sobs in his arms as the others gawked over the doll in Virgil's possession. Minutes crawled by like hours. It was hard to breath, tears running down his hands and dripping onto his pajama pants.

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder

“Kiddo? Are you ok?” Patton whispered, kneeling in front of him. He didn't move

“Oh goodness, I think we scared him.” Patton gently tried to get Deceit to look up, his hand coming back wet with tears. Patton backed away and the sides whispered among themselves

They were mocking him.

It was quiet for a moment, and Deceit final got the control to look up the finest bit. A blanket was suddenly thrown over his shoulders, Virgil, sitting in front of him, pulling it tight around him.

“We aren't going to hurt you, ok?” Virgil chidded softly. Virgil looked over his shoulder at the others before continuing. “The dolls are really cool too, they uh…”, virgil hesitated, thinking of what to say “they turned out really good”.

“They are STUNNING-” Roman piped in. Virgil snickered a tiny bit.

“Now come on, the floor can't be very comfortable.” Virgil held out his hand.

After a long moment, Deceit took it.

---

Deciet was curled up on the couch, Joy in his lap and several blankets over and around him. The third or maybe fourth Disney movie began to play. Patton happily hummed in the kitchen, preparing popcorn for the group, Logan assisting him to pass out popcorn when it was ready and gathering drinks. Roman was almost bouncing in excitement for the first song in the movie to play that he could belt the lyrics along to the song. Virgil managed to perch himself on the top of the couch, occasionally glancing at Deceit as if to make sure he didn't try to run off.

He felt safe. His crying had reduced to quiet sniffling, shaking only slightly. The others occasionally checked on him, each in their own ways.

Maybe his dream could come true after all...

Chapter Text

Deceit had to pinch himself each morning to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. For the first two days, the other sides hardly let him leave the living area in fear he would break and try to lock himself away. They’d check on him, make sure he’s happy or at the very least content.

After that, they’d find some way to drag him out of his room. Whether it was for breakfast or a movie, they’d find a reason to bring him out and create excuses for him to stay there. They were very insistent about food. Maybe they caught on to how little he ate during that period. They made sure he never missed a meal and always were persistent with snacks.

However, they still tiptoed around what happened for deceit to break down like he did for a long while.

“... what happened, if I may ask” Logan quietly inquired one night after requesting to enter deceits room. They both were sitting on Deceits mostly unused bed.

“ what- oh…” it took a moment for him to realize what he meant, they had all done such a good job at blocking that horrible memory out. “They… they kicked me out.”

“They?”

“The dark sssides. They kicked me out because I helped Thomasss.” He hissed out, looking down at his gloved hands. Logan blinked in surprise.

“They… oh, wow…. I don’t know what to say…” Logan trailed off for a moment. “You must of felt very alone. N-not that I understand how feelings work or-“

“Logan, you are a terrible liar. And you are trying to lie to me. There wasn’t a single way that was going to pass” Deceit looked up at Logan, raising an eyebrow. “I won’t pry if you don’t want me to.”

“That’s it! - Sorry, let me explain,” Logan hastily changed the topic, “you’re supposed to keep Thomas from lying to himself. And to us, by extension. We have been trying to figure out how to convince Thomas to keep you with us, although I personally don't think it will be hard, but the others are more worried” logan went on. Deceit tried to mask his excitement slightly.

“R-really?” His voice shook in excitement. Logan laughed the slightest bit.

“Of course”