Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

There was nothing wrong with secrets.  Janus had made sure Remus and Virgil understood growing up that they had a right to their own privacy, and unless they were hurt or thinking about hurting someone else, Janus didn’t need to know.  As sort of an amusing result, Remus decided that meant he could tell Janus anything he wanted.  Janus wasn’t necessarily opposed to the idea, but it took him a little bit of time to get used to Remus blurting out every thought he had whenever he felt like it.  Virgil, on the other hand, was a little more reserved, which was also fine.  Janus meant it when he said he didn’t need to know everything about them.  Only if they were hurt, or thinking about hurting someone else.  There was, admittedly, a reason for that last rule that went a little beyond common sense, which was that Janus was really bad at sticking to that rule himself.

There were plenty of sides on this side of the mindscape that wanted to hurt the three of them.  Virgil being allowed to speak to Thomas made him an obvious target.  Janus being the one that allowed him to speak to Thomas made him a bigger target.  Remus was mostly a target by association, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be used against the both of them.  Or that Remus and Virgil could be used against Janus, really, because the actual problem was either of them being hurt would cause significant damage to Thomas.

Obviously that was why it mattered.  Virgil was Thomas’ fight or flight reflex, and he was already on edge most of the time, if he had to worry about getting hurt on top of that he would be a total mess, and make Thomas jump at the slightest noise.  If Remus had to deal with being hunted and hurt all of the time, he would only worsen Thomas’ intrusive thoughts, and how would that fare for Thomas accepting all parts of his creativity someday?  No, clearly it was much too dangerous for Thomas if Virgil and Remus had to deal with the others.  Janus would just have to do it instead.

This being a business transaction, he didn’t fight back, of course.  Or, well, no.  He supposed that wasn’t entirely accurate.  He did fight back when it came to sides like Pride, who wanted to feel like he’d accomplished something.  But when it came to sides like Cruelty or Malice, who just wanted to relish in causing pain, it served him better to just let them do whatever they wanted.  That was what they got out of the deal.  What Janus got out of the deal was that they left Virgil and Remus alone, and also never marked up any part of his face that would reveal to Virgil and Remus that he was hurt.  The irony of that being the one thing he demanded to know from them was not lost on him.

He supposed he shouldn’t have expected to be able to keep that secret forever.  Despite being Thomas’ Deceit, he couldn’t hide everything perfectly all the time, and Virgil and Remus had gotten very good at reading him over the years, especially when he wasn’t well enough to keep up an act.  And right now, he wasn’t exactly feeling 100%.

It’s not like he wasn’t used to patching himself up, but sometimes he had injuries that took longer than others, and he tended to want some time to relax and settle into himself again once he was done.  Usually with long bubble baths and glasses of wine.  So when he got a very frantic set of knocks when he was in the middle of cleaning a wound on his abdomen, he was understandably a little shaken, and when the side actually started calling out to him, it didn’t really improve much.

“Janus?” Virgil called desperately.  “Janus, Remus made a bear trap and I really don’t think he’s going to use it properly!  Janus, are you there?”

“Shit,” Janus muttered to himself.  He grabbed a roll of gauze and wrapped it as tightly as he could around his wound, taped it down, and threw his shirt over it, grabbing his cape on his way out of the bathroom.

“I’m coming!” he called loudly to Virgil, who stopped knocking.  He pulled his cape on and opened the door, then gestured behind Virgil to let him know to lead him to Remus, which Virgil did.

Remus did indeed have a bear trap, and he was poking at it, which definitely was not going to end well.  Janus moved quickly over and snatched Remus’ hand up and away from it.  Remus made a disappointed noise, and Janus grabbed the chain and yanked at it until it went off.

“In what universe would you think that was a good idea?” he asked, glaring at Remus.

“In this one!” Remus called happily, throwing his hands up.  “Come on Janny, I’ll learn how to use it first!”

“Fine,” Janus said, summoning another bear trap made out of dulled wood.  “Prove it and I’ll give it back.”

“Deal!” Remus called happily, snatching it up as Janus let out a breath of relief and moved to take the actual metal trap back to his room.

Virgil followed him back there and shut the door after them both.  “Thanks,” he said, as Janus set the trap on his desk.  “I didn’t want to have to fight him for that thing considering it could seriously hurt both of us.”

“I think that was a good instinct,” Janus said, turning to face Virgil again.  “Do you know why in the world Remus wanted a bear trap in the first place?”

“Well, he said he wanted to go imaginary monster hunting, and—” Virgil stopped talking, and his eyes widened in alarm.

“Virgil?” Janus asked.  Had he realized something else that Remus had done that needed to be taken care of?

“Janus you— your stomach,” Virgil said, and Janus’ blood ran cold.  He looked down and saw a large wet circle forming through his shirt.  He must not have wrapped his wound as well as he’d meant to.

“Oh my god,” Virgil said.  “Oh my god, you— come on, come here.”  He moved forward and grabbed Janus by the arm, then pulled them both towards the bathroom.

“Virgil, I’m fine,” Janus said, though he wasn’t sure how he was actually going to convince Virgil of that at this point.

Virgil pulled Janus’ shirt up and got much paler as soon as he saw the wound.  “You’re not fine,” he said.  “How did you not say that something was wrong?  What happened, you— oh my god, let me—” he reached for the first aid kit still sitting out on the counter.  He tore the bandages off and finished cleaning Janus’ wound, rewrapping it tightly.  Even after he finished, his hands still fluttered over the area as if there was something else he could do.

“Virgil, I’m fine,” Janus said gently, catching his hands.  “Thank you for the help.”

“You’re not fine, you look like you were fucking stabbed,” Virgil said, looking desperately up at him.  Janus flinched inwardly and started working to come up with a cover story, because Virgil was bound to ask in a second.

“What the hell happened?  How did you not notice, weren’t you in pain?  That didn’t look like a light wound, you…” Virgil’s gaze shifted over to the first aid kit, and Janus tensed.  Dammit.

“You were already treating it,” Virgil said, looking back at him.  “Were you going to tell us?”

“Of course I was,” Janus lied.  “I just thought it needed a little more immediate care first.”

“You— you stopped in the middle of treating it to help me with Remus, though,” Virgil said.  “And what was with trying to convince me you were fine?  You— Janus, what happened?”

“I took a particularly nasty fall in the imagination,” Janus said.  “I was looking for Remus.  I tore my stomach open on a spike.”

“I found Remus in the imagination making his bear trap,” Virgil said suspiciously.  “You weren’t there.  And this isn’t a slash, it’s a piercing wound.”

Deep breath, Janus.  “I—”

“Janus,” Virgil looked him in the eyes.  “Who stabbed you?”

“I’m fine,” Janus said, running out of deflections.

Virgil didn’t respond but to narrow his eyes, and Janus shut his eyes with a sigh.

“Cruelty,” he said, opening his eyes again.

Virgil stood up instantly.  “I’ll fucking kill him,” he snapped, starting for the door.

“No,” Janus snapped, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back towards him.  “You will do no such thing.”

“What— Janus, he hurt you,” Virgil said, looking at him like he was crazy.

“Yes,” Janus said, because apparently this was happening now.  He had tried so hard to keep it from them.

Virgil looked at him for a second longer.  “Why don’t you sound upset?” he asked quietly.

Janus sighed.  “Virgil—”

“Why. Don’t you sound. Upset. Janus?”

Janus looked Virgil in the eyes and tried to come up with some way to explain.  But before he actually got there, Virgil seemed to figure some part of it out.

“Did you let him?”

“Yes,” Janus said simply, because lying seemed rather pointless at this point.

“Why the hell would you— Janus, what if you’d died?”

“Sides can’t die,” Janus said, before he really thought it through.

Virgil’s eyes widened.  “Sides can’t— how do you know that?”

Janus looked firmly at the wall and kept his gaze there.  “When sides die they just reform a couple of days later,” he said, very determinedly not looking at Virgil’s face.

“What— you— what?”

Janus imagined Virgil was now putting together why he took so many multiple day vacations throughout the year.

“Janus,” Virgil said, and Janus finally managed to look back over at him.  “Why would you put yourself through any of that?”

Janus pulled his cape tighter around his shoulders.  “They threaten to hurt you and Remus,” he said simply.

Virgil stared at him.

Janus didn’t say anything else.  Virgil must have understood now, at least.

“And you don’t think,” Virgil said, a mix of quiet and angry, “that Remus and I can take care of ourselves?”

“I know you can,” Janus replied.  “But it would be very dangerous for Thomas if the both of you had to worry about getting hurt all of the time.”

“Dangerous for Thomas?   Oh, and I suppose it’s not dangerous for Thomas if his inner sense of self-care thinks it’s perfectly okay to be used as a walking punching bag?”

Janus blinked in surprise.  “That’s different.”

“The fuck it is!  You don’t think all three of us would be safer if we got to take them on together instead of Remus and I’s safety hinging on whether or not they like torturing you well enough?”

“I don’t want you to be hurt!” Janus snapped, and fought to not visibly recoil from his own statement.  That… that wasn’t why he did this.  He did this because it was dangerous for Thomas if the two of them got hurt, right?

“It’s… it’s better this way,” he tried to amend, which it looked like Virgil didn’t buy in the slightest.  “You can both focus on your roles, on things other than making it through the day.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said.  “Now I can focus on you having to focus on making it through the day.  Wow, that’s just so much better.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you,” Janus said quietly.

Virgil was silent for a moment.  Then he turned back towards the door.  “Okay.  I’m going to go get Remus and we’re going to figure out what the hell we’re doing about this.”

Janus grabbed his arm again and yanked him closer.  “No,” he hissed.  “You are telling Remus nothing.”

“Oh, I’m not?  Just try and fucking stop me.”

Janus narrowed his eyes, tightened his grip, and repeated, “You are telling no one any of this,” with an extra push that came from his ability to shut a side’s mouth.

Virgil’s eyes widened.  “Janus!”

“No.  If I can’t keep it from you anymore, fine, but you’re not going to tell Remus too.”  He’d already failed enough for one day.

“Bastard,” Virgil snapped.  “Let me go!”

“No,” Janus said.  He let go of Virgil’s arm, but that wasn’t what he meant.

“Janus,” Virgil said.  He grabbed Janus’ arm, unfortunately right over a cut, and both the pain and the sudden movement made Janus wince.

Virgil stopped and pulled back.  He looked at Janus for a long moment.

“Janus,” Virgil said softly.  “Don’t you know that we love you?”

Janus stared at him, surprised at the sudden admission.  “Of course I know that,” he said.  “Why do you think I kept it from you?”

Virgil shook his head, back to glaring at him.  “You asshole.   Let me tell Remus.”

“No.”

“Janus!”

“No, Virgil.  I told you you’re not telling anyone, I meant it.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish treating these injuries, like I was doing before you interrupted.”

Janus turned and moved to sit on the toilet.  He pulled his cape off and set it on the counter, then pulled his shirt sleeve up over his wound and picked up the rag he’d been using to clean.  He’d probably have to throw this shirt away in order to prevent Remus from seeing the blood or any of the others from seeing weakness of any kind.  If he couldn’t clean it enough in the bathroom—

“Give me that,” Virgil snapped, snatching the rag and taking Janus’ arm in his hand.

Janus blinked up at him in surprise and opened his mouth to protest, but Virgil cut him off.

“If you’re not going to let me tell anyone you’re going to let me help,” he snapped.  “Now hold still.”

Well, Janus didn’t see much of a point in arguing with that, so he did.  Virgil didn’t have his experience with bandaging wounds, but he was able to get them tighter than Janus was usually able to on his own, and by the end of it all Janus would begrudgingly admit he did an alright job.

It was much later in the evening by that point, so Janus just pulled out some pajamas and shooed Virgil away, who didn’t look very happy to go.  He ended up just getting rid of the bloody shirt and making a new one, and then headed back into the bathroom to do his other normal nighttime activities such as brushing his teeth and taking care of his scales.

Today hadn’t gone well.  Cruelty hadn’t even given him a bad stab wound this time, he dreaded to think of Virgil’s reaction to a more serious injury.  Well, he supposed he could simply continue hiding those from Virgil.  It’s not like he planned to start suddenly going to him for help, and hiding worse wounds had never been a difficult thing in the past.  He didn’t see why much had to change from this point, and after a while he could forget his massive failure if he simply neglected to ever bring it up.

It would all continue to be fine.

…

Virgil was having nightmares.  Janus woke up multiple times a week to find the anxious side perched at the edge of his bed.  On worse nights, he sometimes woke to Virgil shaking him to make sure he was still alive.  The subject of the nightmares was obvious once he learned that fact, and Virgil never seemed to calm down, no matter how many times Janus told him his body wouldn’t still be there if he was dead.  It just made Janus all the more guilty about failing to properly keep this from Virgil.  This constant worry was exactly what he was trying to prevent.

Janus wondered sometimes if it was worse than it would have been, if Virgil had to worry about himself instead of Janus.  He was a protector by nature, after all.  He worried most about things happening to Thomas, Remus, people other than himself.  Janus was part of that group, and Virgil seemed to have grown deeply worried about him very quickly, if the nightmares and anxious looks were anything to go by.

That didn’t change his decision, of course.  He wasn’t going to let Virgil reveal that he knew.  The others might come after him then, and he wasn’t going to do anything that might make Virgil more on edge than he now already was.  Though how many times Virgil was suddenly showing up in his room after dinner just to make sure he wasn’t hurt that day was certainly not helpful.  Most of the time Janus just lied.

And most of the time Virgil saw right through that lie.

Remus was starting to notice that something was up.  Virgil might have been Anxiety, but that didn’t mean he constantly checked on Janus’ safety all the time without a reason.  And Janus’ silencing power didn’t extend to actions that didn’t directly reveal the secret being kept.  He couldn’t force Virgil to stop.  Janus told Remus that Virgil had a particularly bad nightmare that seemed to be affecting him for a while.  He wasn’t sure how well Remus bought it.  He needed to find another solution.

“How about you let me tell him?” Virgil asked when Janus mentioned it, one night when he’d insisted on helping Janus with the aftermath of a fight with Pride.

“How about you come up with a solution I might actually use?” Janus deadpanned back.

“Remus would want to know.”

“Remus is perfectly happy not knowing.  So were you, by the way.”

“I was happy because I didn’t know, you asshole.”

“Yes, that’s the whole point,” Janus agreed.  “Why are you so against the idea of making sure Remus isn’t upset?”

“Because it’s based on a lie, Janus.”

“You would think you would have expected that from me,” Janus said, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re the one who always tells us we can keep any secrets we want as long as we’re not hurt,” Virgil snapped.

“Yes.  There was a reason for that, you know,” Janus said, pulling a bandage off an older wound and giving it a look for a minute.  That one was probably okay to take off at this point.

“Hypocrite.”

“Yes, I know, Virgil, thank you.”

“You don’t think I would be less worried about you if I had someone to share that worry with?  Or if I could try and actually protect you instead of just helping you pick up the pieces afterwards?”

“I’m not letting you tell Remus.   If you think I’m letting any of the others get wind that you know you’re insane.  Do you know what they’d do to you then?”

Virgil lifted Janus’ arm slightly so the most recent bandage was in both of their lines of sight.  “Yes.”

“All the more reason you should let me protect you both the best I can,” Janus said calmly, pulling his arm from Virgil’s grasp.

“Remus would want to know that you’re hurting,” Virgil said.

Janus sighed.  “What would the point even be?  He couldn’t do anything about it.  It’s not like we can go anywhere.  It would be causing needless distress.”

“We could ask the core sides,” Virgil said.  “We could see if they could let us stay over with them.”

Janus snorted.  “Oh, yes.  They’d definitely be willing to let three of us, none of whom they’d like, stay over there indefinitely.  What a brilliant plan.  You’re right, let’s do it.”

Janus, for some reason, couldn’t tell what Virgil was thinking in response to that.  “I am telling you what Remus would want,” he said.  “Do you not believe me?”

“Of course I believe you,” Janus said.  “But I’d be a lousy Deceit if I didn’t continue to let sides live in ignorance and denial, now wouldn’t I?”

“You’re an asshole,” Virgil spat.

“You’ve made it clear that that is your perspective,” Janus said.  “I think I’d like to take a long bubble bath after cleaning these, would you mind terribly heading out?”

“Dick,” Virgil spat, even as he did just that.

Janus let out a sigh of relief once the bathroom door closed.  How many times was he going to have to go through this conversation exactly?

…

Janus couldn’t really say he understood when Virgil started spending more time with the core sides.  He’d gone on rants about them, and how stupid their beliefs were, and how their manner of helping Thomas was stupid.  He’d said many times that if he wasn’t needed to help protect Thomas, he wouldn’t go over there at all.  But now he was starting to spend more time with them all, and seemed to be lightening his stance on them too.

A not insignificant part of Janus wondered if it was because he needed a break from the stress of worrying about him all the time.  He wouldn’t have been surprised if that was the case, and as a result tried to increase his efforts of hiding when he was hurt.  He did an alright job.  Virgil didn’t show up to help quite as often, though he imagined a part of that was spending more time with the core sides.

The real problem was how much it was seeming to hurt Remus.

“Do you think he’s gonna leave?” he asked Janus desperately one night, when Virgil missed their movie night yet again.

Janus looked at Remus next to him on the couch and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.  “No, Remus,” he said, though he wasn’t really sure himself.  “It’ll be fine.”

Remus just made a nervous whine and buried his head in Janus’ side.  “Is he gonna leave me too?” he whispered.

Janus held him tighter.  “Virgil is not like Roman,” he said firmly.  “He wouldn’t leave you, Remus.  It will be okay.”

He really hoped he was actually right about that.  He couldn’t explain Virgil’s sudden change in behavior, other than finding a way to distract himself from the worry.  He didn’t stop being angry, or trying to convince Janus to let him tell Remus what was going on, but he didn’t seem angry at Remus, at least.

He was looking for a time to bring the whole thing up to Virgil, but things were still rather tense between them right now, and he didn’t want to accidentally anger him and make the whole situation worse.  Then again, Janus seemed to do that without even trying these days, so maybe throwing in the towel and pissing him off was the only option he had left.

In the end, it didn’t end up mattering though, because Virgil brought it up first.

“Hey, do you have any idea why Remus is being super clingy all of a sudden?” Virgil asked.  Janus sat up from his spot reading at his desk and looked over to find Virgil leaning against the doorway and looking back over his shoulder like he expected Remus to be there.

Janus set his book down and gave Virgil a look, which he didn’t notice until he turned back around.

“What?”

“Are you telling me you haven’t noticed?  Are you and the core sides getting along that swimmingly nowadays?”

“The core sides?  Since when do the core sides and I get along?” Virgil asked, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.

“You tell me.  You’re the one who’s suddenly spending all of your time with them.  Or did the last three movie nights and four game nights just accidentally slip your mind?”

“They didn’t,” Virgil said, looking guilty at least.  “I just… I’m hanging around after videos more often now.”

Janus blinked in surprise.  “And they’re okay with that?”

“Sometimes,” Virgil said softly.  “Patton usually, yes.  I think Logan’s a little irritated, and Roman still hates me, but that’s pretty normal.”

Janus stood up slowly, because this was a whole new problem now.  Virgil looked upset.

“Virgil,” he said slowly.  “You knew going over there that they weren’t going to like you.”

Virgil scowled at him.  “I know that,” he said.  “I’m not trying to get them to like me.  Or, I mean, not that much.”

“But you are trying to get them to like you a little?”

“I’m trying to get them used to seeing me around.”

“What?  Why?”

“Well I figured if I did that, and then I asked Patton if you guys could stay, he’d be more likely to say yes,” Virgil said.  “If they’re already used to one of us being around.”

“You’re doing what?   Virgil, that’s a horrible idea,” Janus said, moving across the room and towards Virgil.

Virgil crossed his arms and started glaring at him.  “Well, you’ve refused to let me find any other way of helping you.  You’re not giving me much to work with here, Janus.”

Janus’ eyes widened.  Virgil was doing this for him?

“Virgil,” Janus said, stepping over and putting his hands on his shoulders.  “You shouldn’t do that.  Things are fine the way they are, you shouldn’t—”

“Things are not fine the way they are,” Virgil snapped, yanking Janus’ hands down.  “Things are about the opposite of fine right now, you’re just refusing to let anyone else know that fact.  And I’m not going to let things go on like this, Janus.  I have to do something.”

“No, you don’t.  I’m not asking you to do anything.  I’m actively asking you to not do anything.”

“Yeah, well fuck that noise.  You can’t make me stop trying to help you as long as I don’t intentionally do anything to reveal to anyone what’s happening.  Which I still think is bullshit, by the way.  But if you’re sticking to that, I’ll do this instead.  You can tell Remus I’ll be missing game nights and movie nights for a while.  And unless you want to tell him the truth, I don’t have a reason to give you.”  Virgil stormed back over towards the door, but hesitated before opening it.  “You can reassure him I’m not mad at him if he asks,” he said quietly, and then pulled the door open and walked out into the commons, slamming the door shut after him.

Janus stared at the door for a long time after he’d left.

He seemed to have underestimated Virgil’s determination.  He probably should have known better than that.  But now he had to figure out how to get him to stop.  It wasn’t going to be easy.  When you made Virgil this determined, not much could stop him.  It was part of why Thomas had such an issue with anxiety, and another reason why Janus had kept this from him in the first place.

He sighed, and moved to sit back down at his desk.  There was only one real solution here, and he knew it.

Virgil had to leave.

…

So it turns out making Virgil hate him was… disturbingly easy.  Granted, he was already angry at him most of the time, it wasn’t hard to push a little further.  If Virgil had never found out what was going on, he imagined it would be harder to piss him off this much this easily.

Well, if he hadn’t found out, Janus wouldn’t be trying to piss him off at all, and things could actually be how they were supposed to be.

Couldn’t Virgil see that this was exactly the reason he hadn’t told either of them?  “This” being the tiny petulant child that Janus was pretty sure lived inside him and that now spent most of the time screaming that it didn’t want to lose Virgil.

But it was too late for that at this point.  If he wasn’t going to keep quiet on his own, Janus had to make him want to.  And the fact that it wasn’t hard didn’t sting at all.

It was the little things, really.  Make a casual comment that implied he didn’t care when Virgil was sacred.  Chuckle in amusement when Virgil was angry with him.  Make references to the others that only Virgil would understand, just to rub salt in the wound a little.  Ignore the voice in the back of his head that screamed at him to stop whenever Virgil looked furious, or worse, hurt.

Janus had always suspected he’d be a skilled manipulator.  He hadn’t planned on testing that theory, not anytime soon and hopefully not ever if he was lucky.  And now he was practically using manipulation as a crutch.

Remus didn’t seem to have any idea why any of it was happening, and it was him asking Janus to stop that came the closest to succeeding.

“Why are you acting like this?  I don’t understand,” Remus said, following Janus towards his room, despite Janus specifically telling him to stay in the kitchen.  “Virgil hasn’t done anything.”

“Remus, I told you to leave me alone,” Janus said.

“Has he done something?  Do you want to yell at him or something?  Because that would be better.  Just, do something other than—”

“Remus,” Janus snapped.  “I do not want to yell at him.  I want you to leave me alone.”

“But you’re being…” Remus didn’t finish his sentence.  “Just tell me why.  Tell me why, I’ll beat the problem bloody.  I’ll fix it for you.”

“There’s nothing to fix, Remus,” Janus said.  “Everything’s fine.”  He reached the door of his room and pulled it open just slightly in order to slip through, to make it clear Remus would not be joining him.

“Janus, is something else wrong?” Remus asked quietly.

The bruise that was forming on Janus’ side started to ache.

“Everything is fine, Remus,” he said.  “Now go away.”

He slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t really make Remus leave well enough alone, so the questions didn’t stop.  Janus definitely wasn’t going to either though, and just pushed back harder against the both of them.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d need to do this, which was a problem because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep doing this.  He didn’t like hurting his family.  If Virgil didn’t hurry up and either hate him already or at least get out his resolve might break, and that would just create more problems.  Maybe if he was just a little worse for this next week, that would do something.  But he’d repeated that to himself a couple weeks in a row now.  He could only take so much.

And so, it seems, could Virgil.

It was the day he ducked out that Janus realized he’d taken things too far.  This hadn’t been what he wanted.  He’d just wanted Virgil to leave, not…

He’d paced back and forth in his room all morning, trying to decide what to say to him.  Thomas needed Virgil.  That was a higher priority than getting him to leave the others.  He now needed to convince him to come back, in some way or other.  But Virgil wasn’t exactly likely to listen to him anymore.  What if anything he tried just made things worse?  Either way, he had to do something.   Thomas wasn’t going to make it very long without Virgil.

Fortunately for the whole situation, it didn’t seem to take the rest of Thomas long to realize that either.  Janus watched almost desperately from the background, and realized in a frightening moment that if they couldn’t convince Virgil to come back on their own, he might be willing to reveal himself to help them try.  Thomas was there, Thomas would see him, there was no one to impersonate, but what was he supposed to do instead, just leave Virgil?

They all ended up doing alright on their own, in the end.  And in between convincing Virgil to stay and getting the core sides out of Virgil’s room, Thomas accepted Virgil as a part of himself and Virgil told them his name.   Janus hadn’t realized how close he really was getting with the core sides until that moment.

Then Roman brought up the others, and Janus was reminded of his actual job and shut him up.  Virgil’s response to Thomas’ query on that point alerted Janus to the fact that he was probably about to get yelled at.

He watched until Virgil sank down and then braced himself before sinking out to his room himself.

Virgil was standing over his desk, hands braced against it.  He didn’t look too great for someone who had just been accepted by his center.

“Virgil?” Janus asked softly.

Virgil tensed but didn’t turn around.  “Get out, Janus.”

“Are you alright?”

Virgil scoffed, and glared over his shoulder.  “Since when do you care?”

“Virgil, you… you just…” Janus’ throat closed up before he could get the words out.

Virgil glared back down at his desk.  “Whatever.”

“Do you need…” Janus trailed off again.  When had he stopped knowing how to talk to Virgil?

“Do I need what, Janus?” Virgil snapped, spinning around.  “You can’t just suddenly start caring about me again now that you’ve seen the consequences of not.”

It was a fair statement.  Janus didn’t know how to explain that there wasn’t anything sudden about it.  Virgil probably wouldn’t even believe him.

“Can I do something?” Janus asked instead.  “Can I help you?”

Virgil scoffed again and turned back to face his desk.  “I think you’ve made it very clear that you don’t want to,” he said.

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, it’s not?”  He turned to glare at Janus again.  “So all the bullshit you’ve been pulling is just, what, tough love?”

“Virgil,” Janus said weakly, stepping forward.  “I just— I just couldn’t let you tell anyone else what was going on.  It wasn’t—”

“And that translates to ‘time to be a dick to everyone I care about’ how, exactly?” Virgil snapped.

“I was just… I was trying to show you…” Janus said.  He still didn’t have a clue what to say.

“Yeah, well newsflash, I wasn’t going to tell anyone because you were quite literally forcing me not to.   I can’t tell anyone else because you’re refusing to let me help you!  I don’t even know if I want to anymore with everything!”

“Good, because I’ve told you not to multiple times,” Janus snapped, because now at least they were on a topic he knew what to do with.  “I’m not going to let you intentionally put yourself in danger for my sake.”

“Well sometimes that’s what you do for people you care about.  You just, you’ve turned into a real asshole, you know.”

“Well everything would have been fine if you’d just believed me when I said I can handle a couple bruises on my own!”

“Yeah, well maybe you fucking deserve to!” Virgil screamed.

Janus relaxed slightly in relief.  Good.  For all of the mistakes he’d made, at least they’d still actually gotten where they needed to.  At least Virgil had actually made it to a point of hating him.

But then Virgil stopped, and his face dropped in horror.  “Wait,” he said.  “No, I didn’t— I didn’t mean that.  Fuck, I didn’t— Janus, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean that, I swear.”

Janus stared at him for a minute, once again at a loss.  “It’s… okay,” he said hesitantly.

Virgil must have taken his shock as hurt, because he stared moving across the room.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.  “I shouldn’t have said that Janus, I… you’ll never deserve any of that bullshit, okay?  No matter what, you don’t deserve that.”

Janus didn’t know what to say.  A part of him wanted to call Virgil’s statement bullshit.  He still didn’t think he deserved it?  After all of this?

“It’s okay,” he said again anyway.  “I’m not mad, Virgil.”

Virgil looked at him for a long moment, then sighed and looked down.  “What did I do, Janus?”

Janus blinked.  “What?”

“What did I do to make you so angry?” Virgil asked, looking up again.  “Is it really just because you wanted to keep everything a secret?  You’re against accepting my help with this that much?”

Janus stared at him.  This wasn’t what he wanted either.  Virgil was supposed to get angry and hate him, not… not everything that had happened today.

“I just don’t want you hurt,” Janus said softly.

Virgil stared at him for a minute, and then laughed a little.  Janus was pretty sure it was about the worst laugh he’d ever heard.

“Well, good fucking job, Janus,” he said, turning back around to face his desk one last time.

Janus swallowed past a lump in his throat.  He moved forward and reached out to gently put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil jerked away.  “Get out,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Get out.”

Janus took a step back, looked at Virgil’s hunched shoulders and tense stance.

He… he was done here, wasn’t he?

Janus sank out to his own room without another word.

Remus was waiting on his bed.  He looked up at Janus, with a small look on his face that never belonged on the face of someone like Remus.

After a moment, Remus stood up.  He walked over to stand in front of Janus, and seemed to read something on his face, though Janus wasn’t sure what.

Remus shook his head and looked down.  “Well?  Are you happy now, then?” he asked.  He turned and walked out of Janus’ room, closing the door after him.  He didn’t even slam it.

Janus walked over to the door and almost opened it to go after him, but his hand was starting to shake and he couldn’t get a good grip on the knob.

He turned and leaned back against the door, sank down against it, and then buried his head in his knees and sobbed.

…

Remus didn’t stay mad at him forever.  It wasn’t in his nature after all, and eventually he got lonely.  Janus was also around just as much as he was regularly, because, whether Remus was mad or not, Janus still had people to protect him from.

Virgil being gone didn’t change any of the terms of his agreements, of course, though it did mean Janus had less people as a whole to watch out for.  Virgil would be safe with the core sides and Thomas.  Janus had made sure of that for the weeks following his leaving.  He knew what red flags to look for if someone was going to try and hurt him, and the core sides didn’t exhibit any of them.  Mostly they were trying to make up to Virgil everything they’d done to him already.  But they were genuinely trying, which meant Virgil was safe, and Janus could rest a little easier at the thought.

It took Remus a long time, but after he seemed to understand that Janus understood that he was the one who’d screwed up, things started to slowly but surely return to normal.  Then, after a long time, Janus got the sense that Remus had forgiven him.

That last part Janus hadn’t expected.  It was his fault that Virgil had left, and with Remus’ history with abandonment, he hadn’t thought Remus would ever move past it.  When he hesitantly brought it up one night, Remus just looked at him, shrugged, and said quietly that Janus was the last family he had left.

Janus had to take a couple breaths at that point to make sure he didn’t do something stupid like start crying.

After a while, life settled into a new normal.  Some parts were still the same, of course.  Janus still woke up bruised or injured more often than not.  Remus still left mass destruction in his wake.  Thomas still tried much too hard to be a good person instead of just breathing and acknowledging what he’d already done.

But Virgil being gone made things… darker, in a way.  Janus could tell he was missed by him and Remus both.  He wondered sometimes if Virgil missed them too.  He ended up deciding that no, probably not.  He’d wanted to have the core side’s good opinions before he left, and now he had them.  He might miss Remus, he supposed.  But Janus felt he could safely say he’d damaged their relationship too severely for Virgil to actually miss him.  And when he revealed himself to Thomas, he was proven right.

It’s not like he meant to.  If he’d had his way, Thomas would have agreed to lie and he would have left as Patton with him being none the wiser.  Virgil figured it out, though.  And from that point, everyone else realized rather quickly, which resulted in Thomas learning of his existence.

That was the part that disturbed Janus the most.  If Virgil could reveal him so easily, who’s to say he couldn’t find a way to reveal… other things Janus wanted hidden.  But Virgil being so angry at him did calm him down a little on that front.  He clearly didn’t care enough anymore to try and tell anyone, which was a relief that came from this, if nothing else.

The accidental reveal moved up his plans quite a bit, but also gave him the ability to just pop in and see Thomas if he wanted to.  No one really seemed to like that much, but Janus hadn’t been expecting that anyway.

Then he introduced Remus, and something he had been expecting sort of fell through.  Thomas ignored him.

Not in the sense that Remus didn’t have an impact, in the sense that Thomas learned to ignore Remus.  And in ignoring him, he let him sort of just… hang around.  And Remus being over with the core sides more didn’t really bring good times for Janus.

He got used to always waking up with at least one part of him hurting.  When Remus was gone for multiple days at a time he could almost count on being killed at some point during them.  On days where Remus would certainly be gone, the commons might as well be a battlefield.  It was funny, with how hard Janus tried to protect Remus, that Remus’ general presence ended up doing something of the opposite.

But he couldn’t be mad at Remus for wanting to spend time with the core sides.  His center was there.  His brother and Virgil were there.  It’s not like he wasn’t still making time for Janus.  It wasn’t his fault he’d need to be around all the time in order for Janus to be the least bit safe.  He hadn’t ever told him that.

Either way, he started to feel dread pool in his stomach every time Remus gave Janus a quick hug and ran towards the other side of the mindscape.

“Tommy-boy’s brainstorming a video,” Remus said happily one morning.  “I think I might go bug Roman until he agrees to add some of my ideas.”

“Has he been listening to them lately?” Janus asked curiously, shoving the nerves down.

“Yeah, he has actually,” Remus said, looking a little bit confused at the fact.  “I think he might just be trying to ignore me after Logan finally explained that to him, but hey, it’s better than it was.”

“That’s good,” Janus said, squeezing his fork a little bit tighter.  “I’m happy for you, Remus.”

“I’m happy for me too!” Remus said with a beaming smile.  It faded quickly the next second.  “But uh, this doesn’t mean I’m not going to be back here for movie night.  You know that, right?”

“Remus, it’s okay,” Janus said, taking Remus’ hand and squeezing it.  “I recognize your efforts, okay?  I know you’re not going to abandon me.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m super not,” Remus said firmly.  “If you don’t go, I don’t go, end of story.”

Janus smiled, the relief probably a little more obvious on his face than he wanted it to be.  “Agreed, and same here,” he said, and Remus grinned back at him.

Not long after that Remus vanished for most of the day, and not long after that Janus was approached by Malice.  A hand came down lightly on his shoulder, and Janus looked wearily over it to see Malice standing there.

“Good morning, Deceit,” Malice said.  It would have sounded calm and casual to anyone who hadn’t spent decades learning to read the coldness behind his voice.

“Malice,” Janus said.  “Did you need something?”

“You know why I’m here, Deceit,” Malice said, narrowing his eyes slightly.  “I don’t like the way you’re suddenly trying to stall all the time.  You’ve been in this business for too long to not know exactly what I want from you.”

Janus didn’t know quite how to describe that none of this had felt like “just business” for a very long time.  The recent developments of Remus being gone more often had only made worse what he’d already felt.  So sometimes, Janus just needed a few seconds of stalling before they started on what they both knew was coming.  But it’s not like Malice would care about any of that.

Janus sighed and rose to his feet.  “Let me do the dishes first,” he said, picking up Remus’ which he had thankfully left there.  “Remus will wonder why they aren’t done.”

Well, actually no, Remus wouldn’t give two shits about the dishes unless Janus gave him permission to break them, but Janus just needed some time to brace himself.

“You should be in my room in five minutes,” Malice said, leaving the ‘or else’ unspoken for both of them, though there were a couple guesses as to what it would mean.  Or else I’ll kill you, maybe.  Or else I’ll make it worse.   Probably both, in all honesty.

Janus took the dishes over to the sink and debated whether or not he wanted that.  Well, he had been wanting a vacation.  And this was probably the easiest way to get it.

Janus turned on some music to time himself and started moving slowly.

…

Janus could tell the second he opened his eyes that the mindscape was not the way he’d left it.  It wasn’t the feeling that usually came with suddenly returning after being dead, either.  Something was wrong.

Janus pushed himself quickly up from his bed and ignored the way his entire body ached.  What happened, what had gone wrong, what had he done?

Janus moved over towards his door and took a half a second to prepare himself for whatever might happen, then pulled it open.

The commons was an absolute wreck.  Tables were overturned, couch cushions ripped in half and stuck to the wall with some kind of sticky substance.  He was pretty sure he smelled smoke somewhere.  What the hell had happened?   He’d been dead for what, three days?

Janus started as quickly as he could for the kitchen, mostly because it was as good a place to start as any.  He’d just finished confirming that no clues were there, however, when from behind him came a cry of “DEE!” and a body slammed into him.

Janus immediately tensed up, from both pain and fear.  No one usually attacked him with full body slams, what did this mean?  Were they trying to find new ways to be creative?  Did that mean he was getting boring?  Oh god, what were they going to do to Remus if he was boring?

“Where have you been?” the person asked, and most of Janus’ fears evaporated.  Remus.  Remus was just hugging him.

“What?” Janus croaked, his voice scratchy from disuse.

“Where have you been?  You’ve been gone, I couldn’t find you,” Remus said, squeezing Janus tightly.  Janus had to hold back a hiss of pain.

Luckily, he had an excuse for this kind of thing already.  “I was just having some self-care days,” Janus said.  “Did I lose track of time?”

“But you missed movie night,” Remus said.  “And I went in your room to look for you and you weren’t there.  I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” Janus said, trying to focus the conversation on the mistake he’d made instead of the fact that Remus couldn’t find him.  “I should have remembered our movie night Remus, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t disappear like that again,” Remus said.  “Please?  I couldn’t find you, I was worried.”

“Okay,” Janus said weakly, wincing as Remus squeezed him even tighter.  “Okay, I’m sorry.”

Janus felt like he was trying to play catch up.  What made this so different?  He’d died before, and Virgil and Remus had always bought his self care excuse—

Virgil.  This was the first time Remus had been here when he was dead since Virgil had left, wasn’t it?  He’d been trying to be more careful when Remus wasn’t over bothering the others, but everything had just felt like so much lately, he’d needed a break from it all.  He hadn’t even thought of the fact that Remus would probably notice this time.

God, he’d left Remus exposed.   What was he thinking?

Janus tried to relax as much as he could so Remus’ hug wouldn’t hurt as much.  He was not going to die again.  No matter what.  He couldn’t abandon Remus like that.  He had to be more careful from now on.

“I won’t do that again, Remus,” Janus said, squeezing Remus’ hand with as much strength as he had right now.  “I promise.”

“Okay,” Remus whispered, burying his head in Janus’ shoulder.

“Hey,” Janus said weakly.  He turned slightly in Remus’ arms so he could look back at his face.  “Hey.  Let’s have a movie night tonight to make up for it.”

Remus smiled a little.  “Yeah?”

Janus nodded.  “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Remus said, pulling Janus into another hug, this one gentler, so Janus could appreciate it.

“I’m sorry I left, Remus,” Janus said.  “That’s not what I was trying to do.”

“I believe you,” Remus said, and Janus sighed in relief.  Neither of them moved for a while.

Eventually Remus laughed a little, though it didn’t really sound like he meant it completely.  “I think everyone else got really mad about how much I messed up the commons looking for you,” he said, clearly trying to lighten the subject based on his tone.  “Sorry about that.”

Janus winced inwardly.  “It’s okay,” he said anyway.

The others were definitely going to take that out on him later.  Oh well, he’d live.

He’d make sure of it this time.

…

Janus couldn’t think of many worse situations to be in than being on the run while Pride was pissed.  At least if Cruelty and Malice were pissed, Janus could have something of an idea of what to expect.  Long hours of grueling torture, really.  And that wasn’t fun, but they’d want as much pain as they could get until they were satisfied, and that meant they’d usually make sure not to kill him.  Pride, on the other hand, had no such failsafe.

Managing not to die had been harder than Janus expected when he’d made the promise to Remus.  It meant being on edge, making sure the others were satisfied with what they got without having to resort to killing him.  It wasn’t necessarily difficult, he knew these sides well by now and he knew what they’d want.  It was just exhausting.  Janus hadn’t realized how much a full time job it would be to keep all of them happy.  And now he was at serious risk of breaking his promise to Remus if he couldn’t think of a way to get Pride to calm down.

He made it to his room, at least, and slammed the door behind him.  But that wouldn’t buy him much time, not really.  No one could get into his room if he locked it, but if he didn’t face the music eventually, it would just be worse for him down the line.  He’d have to come up with something else, quickly.

An angry fist slammed against his door, and Janus jumped.  Wasn’t Remus working on something with his brother tonight?  If he could just last until he got back—

Another fist, and Pride screaming his name.  Janus squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe.  What could he do, where did he have to go, Remus wouldn’t get here fast enough, but he didn’t want to break his promise either.  It didn’t matter how much he needed a break, if he had to wake up and find Remus desperately looking for him, he still wouldn’t get much relaxation from time being dead.

He just needed somewhere else to go.

A ludicrous idea popped into his head, and Janus almost dismissed it immediately.

Loud, angry fist.  “DECEIT, YOU GET OUT HERE!”

Oh, what the hell.  He had nothing to lose.

Janus sank out, praying to whoever was listening that no one would be in the other commons, because unless he was really slipping in his knowledge of everyone, this room wouldn’t be open.

Yep.  He appeared just outside of Virgil’s door, meaning he’d locked his room.  Thankfully, someone must have been listening to his prayers after all, because when Janus looked around, no one else was there.

He knocked on the door, trying to keep it quiet.  Please don’t let Virgil have locked his door because he’d left.

But no, thankfully he heard a call of “I’m coming!” from inside, and a second later Virgil pulled the door open.

He jerked back in surprise when he saw Janus, and started glaring away a second later.  “What do you want?  I’m busy.”

“Can I, um,” Janus gasped, and Virgil looked back at him, eyes widening slightly when he noticed Janus’ condition.  “Do you have somewhere I could stay tonight?”

Virgil stared at him for a second longer.  “What?”

“I just— I can’t find Remus and Pride is— but I promise Remus I wouldn’t— I could stay on the couch instead, if you want.”

“You—” Virgil looked Janus up and down, and seemed to finally realize what a wreck he was, as if the stammering and the asking him for help hadn’t given him a clue.

Virgil looked at him for a moment longer, and Janus tried to not let how desperate he was show.  He was pretty sure he failed miserably.

Finally, Virgil sighed.  “Okay,” he said.  “Just this once.”  He stepped aside and Janus walked past him into the room.  He made it across the room and to the desk before he had to brace himself on the back of his chair to keep his knees from buckling under him.

Virgil shut the door and moved over and sat on his bed at first, and Janus took a moment to breathe and try and let himself calm down.  Virgil’s room probably wouldn’t be helpful for that.  He shifted slightly to try and move around to sit in the chair, but his legs wobbled dangerously, so after a moment he stayed put.

“Okay, what the hell did they do?” Virgil asked, looking at Janus with poorly-veiled concern.  “You’re not usually this… obvious.”

“It wasn’t just something they did tonight,” Janus murmured.  “Remus has just been over here more lately, it’s… been a lot.  But I promised him I wouldn’t leave.  I’ve been trying not to die lately, and on top of everything else, I—” Janus leaned his elbow on the chair and pressed his forehead onto his hand.  “I’m tired, okay?  Sue me.”

“Fuck, Remus has been over here more, hasn’t he?” Virgil muttered, more to himself, though Janus still heard it.  “Is that why you’re not looking for him?  He’s over bugging Roman, you know.”

“No, that… that would be something else,” Janus murmured.

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Janus murmured, mostly out of habit.  He shifted to lean more heavily on the chair to try and push himself up.  His arms were shaking as he did it.  There wasn’t much he could do about that.

“I’ll worry about what I damn well please,” Virgil snapped.  “And stop pushing yourself for fuck’s sake, you’re gonna— come here.”

Virgil stood up, and a second later hands grasped Janus under the armpits and pulled him up the rest of the way.  Before any part of Janus’ body could protest, Virgil shifted him and pulled his arm over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to—” Janus started.

“Shut up.”

Virgil carried them both into his bathroom, which Janus was pretty sure he’d never been in before.  Virgil sat Janus down on the toilet and reached under the sink.  He pulled out a first aid kit and turned to face Janus, which was probably when he noticed how the front of his shirt was wet and sticking to his stomach.

Virgil sighed harshly, and pulled Janus’ cape off to hang on the doorknob.  “Is this why you weren’t looking for Remus?” he asked, helping Janus pull his shirt off.

Janus didn’t reply, which was probably enough of an answer.

Virgil set the first aid kit aside and grabbed a rag to start cleaning the stab wound, as Janus tried to ignore the feeling of deja vu that was coming from all of this.

Janus would never admit it, but it felt nice to be able to relax and let Virgil take care of cleaning and bandaging the wounds again.  He wasn’t sure he would have had the strength to do it himself.

“Jan,” Virgil said quietly.  “Why did you make trying not to die sound like something that would take effort?”

“Since when do you care?” Janus muttered, wincing when Virgil started rubbing the peroxide soaked rag over the wound.

“Answer the question.”

Janus leaned over onto the counter right next to the toilet.  “I just need a break sometimes, alright?”

“What— you need a break so you die?”

“Well I don’t see how else I’m supposed to do it at this point,” Janus muttered.  “And I haven’t died in a couple weeks, relax.”

“What— oh, well sure, in that case!  Goddammit, Janus.”

“What do you want from me?” Janus murmured.

“Oh, we’ve had this conversation too many times for you to not know exactly what I want from you,” Virgil snapped, and Janus’ blood ran cold.

He jerked backwards and shoved Virgil’s hands away in one movement, and Virgil jumped slightly in surprise.

“Hey, what the hell?”

“Don’t fucking say that!” Janus snapped, with enough sudden energy that it seemed to catch Virgil by surprise.  “You don’t get to want anything from me.”

“Uh, excuse you, but I think I’m well within my rights to want a couple things from you,” Virgil said, narrowing his eyes.

“Fuck you,” Janus snapped, pushing himself back against the counter until he was pressed against the back of the toilet.

Virgil’s eyes widened in alarm.  “Janus, don’t do that, you’re going to make your wound worse,” he said, leaning forward.

Janus flinched and leapt off the toilet while simultaneously forming his hands into fists.  He wasn’t sure which part of himself to block, but fortunately everything he’d done seemed to surprise Virgil enough that he just stopped moving towards him altogether.

“Wait,” he said.  “I’m not going to— Janus,” Virgil said.  He looked down at Janus’ hands, then back up at his face.  “I’m not… what did I say?”

Janus lowered his hands slightly.  “What?”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Virgil said, taking a step back, and Janus blinked.  He hadn’t even really processed that fear until Virgil said it.  “What did I say?”

Janus thought back over the conversation, and slowly dropped his hands as what had happened processed.

“‘Exactly what I want from you,’” Janus said hesitantly.  “That was my fault, I shouldn’t have asked that question in the first place.”

“You’re not at fault for having triggers,” Virgil said, just as hesitantly.  “I’ll… not say that in the future.”

Janus looked at him for a second, and after a moment Virgil looked back.

“Can I…” he gestured to Janus’ stomach.  “Do you want me to finish helping you with that?”

Janus looked down again and noticed he really had made his wound worse.  Dammit.  He sat down again, and Virgil finished cleaning and wrapping it in silence.  The sudden adrenaline spike that Janus had gotten faded as he did, and he slumped against the counter.

“What do you want from me?” he asked again, quietly.

Virgil glanced up at him, biting his lip.  “I don’t know,” he muttered.  “An apology?  One you mean?  And for you to let me tell everyone what’s going on?”

“I’m not letting you tell anyone anything,” Janus said, which Virgil looked like he expected.

Janus looked down at his bandages.  “I am sorry, though,” he said quietly.  He didn’t look up to see Virgil’s face, and Virgil didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Janus said.  “I just wanted you safe.”

“And you think that wasn’t exactly what I wanted for you?” Virgil asked.

“I knew that,” Janus said.  He kept his gaze firmly away from Virgil’s face.  “Why do you think I tried to get you to leave?”

There were a couple seconds of dead silence.

“You asshole.”

Janus didn’t say anything.

“You’re still missing the fucking point, aren’t you?” Virgil snapped, and Janus looked up in confusion.

“What?”

“However much I may or may not hate you is fucking irrelevant,” Virgil said.  “Because whether or not you deserve to be tortured does not depend on how much I like you.   It doesn’t matter what you do.  You’re still not going to convince me you deserve that.”

Janus stared at Virgil.  “You… really?”

“What do you mean really?   Yes really.   Why the hell would I—” Virgil stopped.  “What… what do you mean really, Janus?”

Janus looked away.

“Janus,” Virgil said, moving forward and grabbing him by the hands.  “Janus, what do you mean really?”

Janus didn’t say anything.  Virgil squeezed his hands tighter but didn’t say anything else.

After a pause that lasted much too long, Virgil pulled Janus up and led them both back into his room while Janus was still too surprised by the action to actually stop him.

Virgil pulled open a drawer in his dresser and grabbed a shirt that he passed over to Janus.  “Put that on,” he said.  “I’m going to wash your shirt and cape tomorrow, when no one else is there don’t worry, and then we’re going to tell Roman and Patton and Logan that you’re staying here.”

Janus blinked.  “What?”

“You’re staying here, Janus.”

Janus shook his head.  “Virgil, I can’t stay here.  Remus will—”

“He’s staying too.”

“Virgil,” Janus said in exasperation.  “Do you really think they’ll let us?”

“They can try to stop you, but they’ll have to fucking get through me,” Virgil spat.  “You’re going to stay here, and Remus is going to stay here, and you’re going to lock the other side of the mindscape up so hard they’ll forget how to open a door.”

Janus sighed.  “And then what, Virgil?  We’ll all sing campfire songs and watch sitcoms together?  Thomas hates us both.”

“You were working on that already,” Virgil said like that solved the entire problem.  “And quite frankly, I don’t care what everyone else thinks of you and Remus as long as they don’t torture you.”

“Not a very high bar, huh?” Janus muttered.

“It’s better than the situation you are actually legitimately dealing with right now.  This is not up for debate.  Lay down and go to bed.  We’ll talk to everyone else tomorrow.”

“That is still kind of my decision,” Janus pointed.

“Not anymore.  If you try and keep me from talking to them, I swear to fucking god I will work day and night until I find loopholes in your bullshit.  And then guess what I’ll be telling them next.  So yeah, I guess you’re right.  Whichever one of those happens is entirely your decision.  Take your pick.”

Janus narrowed his eyes.  Virgil narrowed his right back.

Janus didn’t stop glaring, but he did start to consider the idea.  Could that even work?  Would the others stay locked away if he tried to make them?  And then what, he and Remus just move over here and he never tells Remus why?  They have to live with the rest of the core sides?  He just walks around not having to think about his and Remus’ safety constantly?  He gets to actually do things he enjoys like take long bubble baths and read books about philosophy and just spend time with the people he cares about?  He gets a chance at fixing things with Virgil?

…Well, fuck.

Janus considered that for a moment longer.  Could he actually hope to deserve something like that?

He looked up at Virgil again, not sure when he’d looked down.  Virgil looked just as determined as before.

Janus sighed, all of whatever fight was left draining out of him.  “Alright,” he said quietly, and to his surprise, Virgil seemed to sag in relief too.

“Okay,” Virgil said, and Janus realized from the tone of his voice that he hadn’t actually expected Janus to agree just like that.  “Well, good.  Okay.”  Virgil let out another sigh of relief.  “Okay, lay down,” he said, gesturing towards the bed.  “You need sleep to help recover from everything.”

“It’s your bed,” Janus said in surprise.

“You’re the one with the stab wound.  I’ll go tell Remus we’re having a sleepover with Roman, he’ll be thrilled.”

Janus smiled, just a little.  “Roman won’t be.”

“Yeah, probably not,” Virgil said, starting towards the door.  He stopped just before he left.  “Be here tomorrow, okay?” he asked, glancing back at Janus.  “Please.”

Janus nodded.  “I will,” he said quietly.

Virgil nodded back, and then finally headed out.

Janus moved to sit on the bed.  He’d probably have a nightmare if he spent the night in Virgil’s room, but he’d probably have a nightmare anyway.  And it was better than going back to deal with the others.

A lot of what was about to happen sounded better than going back to deal with the others.

Janus pulled the covers back and climbed under them.  Virgil would no doubt keep trying to convince him to tell the others everything that was happening— everything that had happened?

But that could come later.  For now, Janus would sleep, and if they all had to wait a little longer to find out?  Well.

What you don’t know can’t hurt you, after all.