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It takes a bit of getting used to.
Janus would stick his head out the doorway sometimes, when the music got too loud. "Virgil, turn it down, I can't think!" he complained. It would stop immediately.
And then Remus would appear, and he'd look at Janus, and Janus would remember.
Janus would like a post on Tumblr sometimes, laughing, and think "I've gotta show Virge this." he'd get up, walk out of his room, and turn to the right, where Virgil's door is. Where its always been. Raise his fist to knock. And then remember he wasn't there anymore. His fist would drop, and he'd just stare at the door for a few minutes before sighing and returning to his room.
So yeah. It's taking some time to get used to it. It's been taking some time. Janus doesn't know how much longer it will take, doesn't know if it will ever happen.
He hopes it's soon. He's still finding Virgil's books in his room. There's a pile of his things in the corner that he's still putting off returning. He still cooks Virgil's favourite meals sometimes. He still wanders into the kitchen at 3am, expecting a hooded figure to be perched on top of the counter drinking coffee as he stares at his phone.
He doesn't know how bad it is for Remus. They don't speak very often anymore, exchanging quiet words in the hallway or nods from across the kitchen. He's still playing Virgil's playlist, anyway. More often than not, he catches Remus trudging into the kitchen early in the morning at the same time he does. They usually have a cup of coffee, just to honour his memory or whatever. It's different, because he's not dead, but it feels like he is.
Right now they're doing it again. Remus stirs his cup with his finger mindlessly, a million miles away in his thoughts. He never drinks the coffee.
Janus is already finished with his. He sits there, cradling his mug in his hands.
Apparently, Thomas has never been better. Morality's happy, Logic's happy, Creativity's happy, Virgil's happy. Deceit. Intrusive Thoughts. They are staying out of the way for once. They are consuming their own selves, instead of projecting onto Thomas like the other sides do. They are eating their brains piece by piece, as Remus had put it. "Now there's a big hole. Maybe it'll be like Phinneas Gage. Do you think we're going to just change completely?" he had asked. "Good ol' Gage got meaner. Maybe we'll get nicer. Wouldn't that just be awful?"
He can't help but agree. "That would be vile." he'd murmured. Change or not, it certainly feels like there's a part of himself missing. As though Virgil had been the one to slam the pole down into his brain, and now there's kind of a void. He's totally fine though.
Even if he can't lie to anyone else, he will always be able to lie to himself. That is unchangeable, he decides.
Whatever. He's probably still in the denial stage, anyway. Not that he, Deceit, would ever leave that stage. He could probably go on kidding himself, just for those few seconds at a time, that Virgil was still there.
Because sure, they never liked each other, but they always loved each other. They always looked out for each other. They always cared, to some degree. Janus knew this. He knew when Virgil said he hated him, he was lying. He knows when he said he didn't care, he was lying.
Truthfully, and Janus doesn't use that word lightly, he thinks Virgil should hate him. He shouldn't care.
Which is why it's genuinely surprising when Virgil hovers at the doorway of the kitchen, glaring yes, avoiding eye contact, yes, but he's there.
"You know I can sense negative emotions." he mutters by way of explanation. Janus doesn't mention that he's never shown up before.
"Were fine." Remus says sulkily, and then adds, for good measure, "Bitch."
He nods, like he'd expected that answer, and turns to walk away.
"Wait." Janus finds himself saying. And Virgil pauses.
Remus kicks the remaining chair out from underneath the table and beckons Virgil over.
"I'm not gonna drink this anyway."
Virgil walks over cautiously, reaching for the cup. Remus spits in it defiantly before handing it over, but Virgil takes a long swig anyway, holding eye contact.
"Caffeine is caffeine, asshole."
And as if nothing had ever happened, the three of them sit there in silence just like they always have.
And, Janus hopes, just like they always will.