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"Virgil, though I hesitate to say this of you, you're acting weird," said Janus.
"No I'm not. Shut up," Virgil said tersely. He didn't stop fiddling with his hood, nor did he release the floor from his unnecessarily fierce glare.
Janus paused, hesitant to be direct, but still said, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You—"
"I'm fine!"
"I'm getting Patton," said Janus. He walked to the hallway where their rooms were, carefully smoothing out his expression, and knocked on Patton's door.
"Hi, Janus!" said Patton.
"Hello. I don't particularly care about it, but you might want to check on Virgil."
"Is something wrong?" Patton asked.
Janus shrugged. "I just thought you might appreciate a heads up."
"Okay. Thanks for letting me know."
Patton walked into the living room, where he found Virgil looking concerning. "Hey, Virge," he said softly. "You doing all right?"
Virgil shrugged.
"Do you wanna go somewhere more private?"
Virgil nodded. Patton put an arm around him and led him into the mind palace. He created a small room and they entered it. Virgil shut the door behind them.
"All right, want to tell me what's wrong?" Patton asked.
"I'm just stressed."
"Oh, I'm sorry. What are you stressed about?"
"Nothing."
"Come on, I'm sure it's not nothing if it's bothering you this much."
"I mean, like, nothing specific. I'm just... vaguely on edge, not stressed out about anything in particular. It feels like there's something wrong, but there isn't."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
Virgil paused, thinking. "I don't know, I think I just need to wait this out."
"Are you sure? What were you doing in the living room, could I take that over for you so you can go try and relax?"
"I was just sort of keeping an eye on things, I guess."
"Well, would it help if I kept an eye on things for you?"
Virgil considered this. "...Maybe. We can try."
Patton was surprised by this answer, but he wasn't going to question it. "All right. I'll go sit in the living room. Why don't you go to your room and try to calm down?" Virgil nodded and sank out.
He sat there on his bed in the darkness of his room, a weighted blanket draped over his shoulders, staring off into space, for quite some time. He would've been too anxious to take Patton up on his offer, except he was so confused it was almost enough to start distracting him from his anxiousness. And so he sat there, wondering why Janus had done what he'd done.
He'd found Virgil in a clearly vulnerable state, and then he'd gone and gotten someone Virgil trusted who could help and informed them of the situation. Why? Why would he do that? The obvious course of action would be to take advantage of the situation— to belittle Virgil, or threaten him, or try to convince him to doubt his worth to Thomas. But he hadn't done any of those things. They would've been easy. It wasn't as if there was nothing for Janus to gain from them. And still, he hadn't. It made no sense.
Eventually, trying to puzzle through this conundrum, Virgil just zoned out. He was distracted from both his surroundings and his thoughts. Minutes passed. Then a quarter of an hour. Then half an hour. Then there was a knock on his door.
It only half pulled him back to earth, but that was enough for him to snap his fingers and unlock the door. Patton came in. "Hey, kiddo. How are you doing?"
Virgil shrugged. "I'm okay, I think."
"Dinner's ready, if you want to come. Or I can bring you some food if you just want to stay in your room."
"No, I'll come downstairs." Virgil mentally shook himself, then stood up and followed Patton. When they got to the table, Virgil sat down in his usual spot and quietly said, "Hi, Janus."
Janus was startled, but he smoothed out his expression quickly. "Hello, Virgil," he said. Roman stared at Virgil, and then at Janus, but said nothing. Patton smiled slightly. Logan, pointedly acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred, asked Virgil to pass him the pitcher of water.
Virgil was quiet for most of dinner, but beneath the conversation of the other Sides, the usual poisonous atmosphere between him and Janus was less present. There was less of an air of rancor and unpleasantness. He still didn't trust him, of course, but maybe... he could give him a second chance. Maybe he could try again.