Chapter Text
Page 59-62 of Notebook: What I remember.
--------------------------- (Janus)----------------
Virgil hadn’t approached him alone for many years.
“Who are you looking for?” Janus asked casually, when Virgil came up to him as he strolled through the Mindscape gardens. Surely, he wasn’t looking for him.
Virgil looked confused. “Um, I’m looking for you,” he said.
Janus blinked and let him lead him to the Labyrinth.
“So… what do you wish to discuss with me?” Janus asked, still a little in disbelief this was happening. It had been so long.
Virgil took a moment, dark shadowed eyes darting around as if the bushes had ears.
“I- Uh- wanted to talk to you about the Dark Sides,” Virgil said. Janus suppressed a groan. Of course, he just wanted to give Janus a task to do. And here he was secretly hoping he wanted to catch up. “But- let’s not talk here,” Virgil said, still very twitchy and nervous (when was he not?) “Let’s talk in my room.”
Janus felt too surprised to protest. Ever since Virgil moved to the Light Sides, his room had relocated there too, which means that Janus hadn’t been in it since then- excepting that one time he forced entry and Virgil told him to ‘get out!’
…Now it was disconnected from both the Light and Dark Sides.
“Why is your room like this?” Janus asked curiously, as Virgil eyed him semi-nervously before reaching out a hand to unlock the door.
“Oh, uh, I made it do this,” Virgil said. “I figured you’d be more comfortable not walking through the Light Side commons.”
(Well, that was true, and not. Janus wouldn’t have wanted to stroll through the commons today- but he did sometimes come to pester the ‘Light Sides’ for fun.)
Virgil checked that his room was empty, then beckoned him in. “Come on, then.”
Janus stepped through the door and revealed the hat-hair as he swept off his hat to hold on his lap.
…
Ten minutes later, they sat across from each other with coffee; Virgil was on the stiff chair that usually sat beside his door, Janus cross legged on the bed.
Virgil had seemed anxiously willing to play hostess, which was nice enough he supposed, but since Virgil just wanted to talk business, Janus wished he’d just get it over with. He’d already suffered the disappointment of knowing small talk was not Virgil’s purpose today.
“So,” he said at last, foot tapping impatiently against the floor. “What did you want to tell me?”
Virgil flinched, and Janus’ saw him pull in on himself; perhaps Janus’ tone had shown the mounting irritation he felt to be away from work, but…Well, he did have work to do.
Virgil glanced down at his hoodie strings, then with a massive effort of will, met Janus’ eyes. His own were unreadable, coffee brown- except for the unusual strain of deep unease that sat in the widened pupils and tense shoulders.
“I… I have noticed a higher… unease in the past few days,” he muttered at last, looking embarrassed.
Janus almost dropped his mug.
“That’s all? Isn’t that usual for you?” he asked, half-seriously, but he knew there must be more to it for Virgil to be so on edge.
“It’s- It’s not like the usual anxiety Thomas feels,” Virgil stammered, his tone slightly insulted through Janus’ quiet laughter.
Janus sat up a little straighter. “What’s different about it?”
(If it involved Thomas’ mental health, it was his duty too.)
Virgil hesitated. “It feels like… like the Subconscious is changing.”
And, oh- That couldn’t be good.
“Ah, the Subconscious?” Janus feigned a calm he did not feel at all. “And how exactly do you think it’s changing?”
“I think something is emerging from it? Energy, maybe? It would have to be a Side to activate my anxiety like that.” Virgil shrugged but it didn’t suit his position; he looked stressed and uncertain.
Janus stood up.
“No worries, little Stormcloud. I will investigate this as soon as I have time.”
(He would investigate the first minute he could ‘calmly’ escape Virgil’s hospitality, actually!)
Janus didn’t like the thought of the Subconscious being open, and if any of those Sides emerged…
But Virgil winced and grabbed Janus’ arm, pulling him back onto the bed. “Stay here. Please? It’s changing again. No one should be out there alone in case it’s dangerous, and I’m worried I’ll need the help if I stress too much.” (Always the protective younger Side. And he did sometimes get that stressed.)
Janus, in spite of himself, felt fond- and sympathetic.
“...Fine,” he said after only a second's pause. “But I must leave tomorrow.”
After all, the sun had nearly set, and he couldn’t leave his little stormcloud now, not when he had asked for his extended company for the first time since childhood!
“Oh, thank God,” Virgil exhaled, and Janus swore he felt ten pounds of air pressure dissipate from the shadowy room. “You can stay here,” Virgil said, pulling back the dark-purple covers on his bed and then pointing at an enormous blanket fort he obviously propped up for sleeping. “I’ll just sleep in that for tonight.”
Janus smiled at the blanket fort.
“Okay,” he said, because yes, it was probably best to avoid the floor.
Virgil rolled his eyes as he grabbed some things- all purple or black- and made his way to the bathroom to change. “Just do me a favor, don’t shed on it, hey?”
Janus groaned at Virgil. “That was *one time*.”
Virgil shrugged, but there was a smile on his face this time.
“Still annoying. It took ages to get it off.”
“Fine, fuck off, now- I’m going to bed,” Janus grumbled, but he buried his head under his blankets partially to hide the wide grin on his face- partially to block out the annoying smug look on Virgil’s face- because yes, it was annoying, and yes, very much deserved.
The Sides didn’t often get Janus to smile, and Virgil just succeeded after years as basically strangers.
When Virgil slipped back into the room, now dressed in soft, purple-black checked pajamas, Janus had already fallen asleep and was snoring on the bed.
Virgil, after a smile at the disheveled auburn curls on the pillow, turned to his blanket fort and crawled deep into it, tugging every blanket he owned over his head even though it wasn’t cold in the room at all.
He felt very awkward having Janus here. He hoped very, very hard that he wouldn't have to be waking him tonight.
…
Janus woke in a cold sweat to find the temperature of the room had plummeted since he fell asleep.
His breath rose in steam in the air.
Under the pillow fort, but hidden out of sight, Virgil was sleeping very restlessly; his body tossing against the blankets so that the blankets supported against chairs and pillows rocked and threatened a tsunami.
Janus sat up and sneezed. It was so cold, his throat felt raspy, as if he had caught a cold from the night already. His snake side felt numb but his heart was pounding under the oppressive restlessness of the room.
Virgil was having a nightmare, clearly. It was usually either Remus or Virgil who gave Thomas nightmares, and in the past Janus had been the one to calm them down when they woke from them.
He wondered what would happen if he comforted Virgil now.
Drawn by nostalgia, Janus trailed his blanket down to the floor and padded across the room, his footfalls heavy but muffled against Virgil’s thick- and currently frost-covered- carpet.
Virgil was no longer tossing but still, and he lay groaning in bed, his body tense as if he wanted to run but his sleeping body wouldn’t allow it. Sleep Paralysis, in its overprotective embrace, thawed as Janus gently stroked a hand along Virgil’s forehead.
“Sh- sh, My little Stormcloud,” he whispered soothingly. To his great surprise, Virgil nuzzled into the touch. “It’s only a nightmare, Virgil.”
As he said this he felt a prickle down his back and the scales along his arm felt cold.
He turned his head but too late, as something supple but serrating ran around his middle and his legs and dragged him up onto the bed.
Something whipped across his face, dragging up the scales that otherwise lay flat against his face so that they felt about to snap off.
“Ouch! What the-”
He barely had time to writhe in the blanket’s grasp before it yanked him down, harsher than before, pulling its mass over his nose and mouth.
‘Ahhh!’ he screamed silently as he was unable to intake breath and might soon lose oxygen if he didn’t conserve it. More desperate than before, he tried to writhe free, but the blanket only tightened over his middle, cratering his torso into Virgil’s mattress, forcing breath from his lungs.
With his arms he lashed out, not at the blanket, but to either side, attempting to bang the wall or the bed frame, to get Virgil’s attention.
Surely, Virgil didn’t do this, or at least didn’t *mean* to, since he was asleep- and the trap would have activated sooner. Remus could have created a trap like this, but Janus’ couldn’t imagine Virgil being careless enough for Remus to just meander in. So Virgil wasn’t an enemy.
In his flailing struggles the blanket came loose somewhat.
“Virgil- mfff- Help me-” He managed, heaving in breaths as the blanket loosened then resumed its stranglehold. “#V-Virgil…”
His brain was getting foggy. With the last of his strength, he used his powers to snap Virgil’s pillow fort over, waking the Side up. He would be annoyed, but Janus needed help- and Virgil would understand once he woke up.
In his last moments of consciousness, the dark form of Virgil approached, his blurred face perhaps annoyed, perhaps frightened.
A pair of cold hands reached out, pulling Janus away, tugging him clear off the bed and onto the floor; a muffled voice was saying something: “Hey- Janus- It’s okay. Janus, it’s #okay#-”
(Who was he trying to convince? The lies were heavy on the air.)
Virgil’s hands were shaking.
The blanket was shaken off and that was all the incentive Janus needed. With his remaining willpower he scrambled to wobbling legs, forced his way out a half-open door, and fled, his cloak half-off, quickly sinking out into his own- safe- Dark Side bedroom.
He collapsed onto the bed and breathed out shakily, so relieved to be safely out of Virgil’s hellscape of a room.
Blinking up at the ceiling he felt his last adrenaline fading too quickly to focus on anything, as he was dragged back down into sleep- this time, in safety.
“Well, there we are,” said a snide little voice in his dreams, “That’s what we get for being sympathetic.”
…
Janus was still in bed late that day thanks to Virgil's room- which was really rather unfortunate because he might have known what to do about all of this.
Remus, far away in his castle and shaking from head to toe, focused all his energies on his Creations that had gone rogue in Roman’s Imagination- but whatever he tried they were too powerful, and he, far too distracted, and they only attacked more viciously.
The Dragon Witch wasn’t stirred to join them- thank God. And that gave Remus an idea. Focusing all his attention on creating a long and overly-complicated horn, he blew through it and soon, DW was speeding through the air toward him, her gaze concerned and attentive, even in dragon form. She landed on the parapet of his castle wall, and some nice spiked arrow slots flaked off and fell into the lava pool, two hundred feet below.
“Sup, DW,” said Remus, in no mood for long chats. “Robro and the Nerds are in trouble. Roman’s Imagination. Go, and do what you can so my creations *don’t* rip ‘em to shreds, ‘kay?”
DW nodded- sensing his anxiety- and took flight directly to Roman’s Imagination. (More of the parapet flaked and fell into the piranha-infested swamp that lay right inside the *inner* wall, but Remus really didn’t care.)
…
In Roman’s Side, the Creative Twin was faring badly (though he’d never admit it to anyone, least of all himself).
He had his sword out, and he was slashing left and right, but being bizarre creations of Remus’- and not exactly made for fair fights, either- the monsters were very hard to understand and even harder to kill.
Patton and Virgil were there too, Virgil already looking like- well, *trash*- from last night’s sleeplessness; and Patton was a pacifist, so not very talented with the small dagger Roman had lent him. Besides, if something happened to Roman, their defenses would basically vanish with him, which didn’t look good for them, even optimistically.
Roman would call for help, but with all the energy spiking from Virgil’s panicked dodges around the headless monster with the whip- Well, messages weren’t going through.
He’d just have to hold out for as long as he could. Roman was hoping for an exit, where he could urge the others to run to his castle when the Beasts were distracted, but they were very far from the castle, and almost as if by plan, they were leading Virgil and the others farther away with each attack.
There was only so much that Roman could do- and at the moment he successfully took down the first large monster they had targeted, he saw three figures that were not Remus’ creations nor were they even *animals* of any sort (and that included all of Remus’ bizarre hybrids).
And he was pretty sure, by the prowling way these Sides walked closer, that they were the final boss that the trio had to fight.
…
Janus woke with a jolt… “Who summoned me..?” And then he grimaced. Ugh- his headache. Virgil’s room really had done a number on him.
Then at Thomas’ insistence, he slowly sat up. Because in the end, he existed only for Thomas.
It wasn’t Thomas’ couch- it was a cot he lay upon. The walls were dreary and dark- there were scratches in the door.
“Ah, thomas.” He tried to mask his confusion with pleasure to be summoned again. “I never expected to be summoned by you…” (‘So soon’ died on his lips.) “...Alone,” he ended instead, hesitating.
Thomas didn’t look… Well, he didn’t look *normal*. His hair was a mess, his eyes were desperate.
“Hey, Janus,’ Thomas grinned. Then he looked around. “Buddies-?”
Two heavy-set guards- who were more of Thomas’ Sides- flanked Janus, who felt himself gulp.
He knew these sides all too well.
“Wh-where are the others?” he managed. “Roman, and Patton, and-? Why am I-”
“I think you know exactly why you’re here,” Thomas interrupted cooly, and Janus felt his face pale.
His tongue drifted, his mouth opening several times to say something-
But nothing came out.
Thomas’ eyes were so pleading. He knew it wasn't Patton pleading to him, but he still felt *so much desperation*, for a lie…
A lie to comfort the crime he had committed.
Janus’ eyes widened.
He was desperate to help Thomas- but there were things in Thomas’ mind that he couldn’t simply ignore, either. Signs that Patton must have sent him before he disappeared wherever. Signs that made him very nervous about where this was going.
His mind worked overtime; his heartbeat was frantic.
‘Thomas, I’m not an immoral Side,’ he thought he’d say, and then, ‘I’ll help only IF they’re safe.’
He was panicking behind his calm facade, thinking of Virgil, and of the others. It was clear now what Virgil had tried to warn him about. He hoped he was okay after whatever that shock did to him.
He was angry too. He wanted to knock the smiles off the faces of these idiotic Sides- they probably hurt all my friends- but he didn't dare.
Instead, he sat very still. Instead, he kept his head high and his limbs supple and his eyes calm. Instead, he crossed his leg, very calmly, over the other, paused to consider how to ask after the Light Sides- then brought a gloved hand to his palm, to fidget as discreetly as he could.
When he looked up at Thomas’ face, he made sure all that showed was his casual smirk, as he hid the fear underneath.
“Of course, Thomas,” he purred, eyeing Thomas with newfound fear in his gut- but speaking in a cool amused voice. “I do *love* to be the villain. So, what do you require of me, your excellence?”
He hid the grimace of pain under his hat brim and bangs while Thomas leaned in, a predator eyeing prey, and smirked down at him, Janus’ own cunning smile on his lips.
“I need you to kill Logan for me.”
As if it was the simplest thing in the world.
…
Janus visited Remus’ Imagination to enquire about Roman’s whereabouts as soon as he escaped Thomas. He had heard rumors, hints- in his journey through Roman’s abandoned Imagination landscape, all the people who had stood at Roman’s castle walls told a story of courage and defeat, where Roman’s friends he had defended were dragged off, unconscious, by some unknown entity. A giant winged thing, with glowing eyes. That sounded like the Dragon Witch, but she rarely chose sides alone.
So he strode through Remus’ war-torn Dark Imagination, his cloak tattered and streaming behind in his wrath and fear.
His eyes fell on Remus, sitting alone at a log in the middle of the forest, and wiping mud over his face in his attempts to clear away- were those tears?!- from his cheeks.
Janus wasn’t giving any quarter, and marched forward close enough to demand “Why did you do it, Remus?”
Remus, shocked and in a moment of vulnerability, yelped and jumped, but Janus still grabbed the collar of his frilly tunic.
“Why did your monsters attack the Others?!”
Remus glared up at him. His eyes were still overbright, and he spoke in a raspy voice.
“I swear I didn’t want any of this! My creations got out of control! Roman was outnumbered but I swear- I didn’t mean it.”
Janus was furious. He knew that right now, he was very limited; he could only really do what Thomas wanted him to. Remus had somehow escaped that fate, but he wasn’t faring better. But Janus could still detect truth or lies. And Remus wasn’t lying.
He’d always liked Remus. Janus wasn’t very trusting, but, well…
They could make an uneasy alliance.
In all honesty, Janus had expected an answer like this. Sure, Remus loved fighting Roman, but they were brothers and they still cared for each other. (At least some.)
Taking a deep breath, he released Remus (before the Dark Side could punch him for his trouble) and backed away a step.
“Ah. So, you really had no control.” That was rare. Remus rarely tried to control himself, but when he did try… he was strong. At Remus’ jerky nod, he slowly relaxed, and glanced around for a log or something not as nasty as Remus’ to sit on.
He eventually found one (though he still grimaced as the wet lichen surface touched his hand) and sank onto it, as gracefully as was possible.
“Please tell me then,” he requested, in a voice as calm as he could manage. “What did happen when Roman fought the Creations? I assume that Cruelty and Apathy were there, too. And I heard about Virgil and Patton being dragged away.”
“Roman’s dead,” Remus said in a stale voice, as soon as Janus calmed his breathing a little. “He stood alone against the dangerous sides and my feral creations, defending Patton and Virgil, who as far as I can tell aren’t dead yet. They were pretty banged-up, though.”
Janus glowered at him.
“And why on earth didn’t you go help them, if you’d feel guilty about it afterward?”
Remus snapped. “If I did, I would’ve made things worse, okay?! They were out of control- my monsters- and I would’ve given them even more power. I desperately wanted to help, kick butt and all-” Janus recognized truth in his shaking, tense tone. “But I just couldn’t.” Remus finished bitterly.
“So, Roman’s dead?” Ventured Janus at last, because he needed to know the truth. “It might take him over a week to recover-”
“Yeah, and doesn’t look too great considering Thomas doesn’t want him back.” Remus kicked the dirt gloomily. “He doesn’t really like me either, though,” he muttered.
Janus had an epiphany. “It was *you* who dragged Virgil and Patton away. *You* were protecting them.”
“Not me, dumbass. Weren’t ya listening? That was DW- but yeah, I asked her to do that. Glad she actually did it. She sometimes roasts her prisoners and eats them, so…yeah.”
“And where exactly is she keeping them? They are safe, I presume?” Janus made a mental note to give the Dragon Witch a wide berth whenever he was injured in the future.
“Sure, sure,” Remus waved an arm flippantly. “They’re up at my castle. They have places to run if DW gets too… curious.” Janus didn’t want to know what that implied. “Y’know- she just has a lot of recipes she wants to try.” Janus winced. Okay- he’d definitely have to find a way to check on them, as soon as possible…
“And… the others? I assume Logan is okay, and Remy?” he asked, though, he had to admit, his interests still mostly lay with Virgil and Patton, who were under DW’s claw; Logan couldn’t be hurt by physical attacks.
Remus snorted. “No one messes with Remy,” he said. “I’m not even concerned. And the geek- well, you’d have to be completely insane to want your logic killed.”
‘Thomas *is* completely insane,’ Janus thought in his head. ‘And he *does* want Logan killed.’
Instead he said, casually. “I guess you’re right. There really is no need to worry for them. You should keep an eye out for yourself, though; in this new regime, it seems Creativity is just as much a threat as Emotion, so watch yourself.” The concern in his eyes was real.
Remus shrugged. “Eh, I’ll manage,” he said. “I’ve had to fight Cru and Appy before- I can still do it. Plus, I have my monsters on my side, which is sweet.”
Janus hesitated. “Remus, I wouldn’t use the monsters if I were you, they may get out of your control again and try to hurt you.”
Remus looked at him blankly. “They’re *mine*.”
“Yeah,” Janus sighed. “But you’re the only Creativity now; I’ve got to be extra cautious.”
Remus shrugged. “Yeah, whatever,” he said. “I just hope the Puffball and the Meathead are back soon. And Virgil,” he added as an afterthought. “Although he’s pretty annoying whenever I present an idea.”
Janus laughed. He was glad he had made this visit so soon, and glad to have an ally when everything else felt so wrong.
“I’ll see you around then? Don’t approach unless I’m alone, or at least don’t show we’re close,” he said, to which Remus cackled, and Janus shoved him. “Shut it. You know I meant as friends. Now, I really have got to go or Thomas will try to track me.”
“He can do that?”
“Not yet, thank God,” Janus said. “But I’m the suspicious type.”
“You *are* pretty sus.”
“Oh shut up.” Janus brushed off his pants. (Eww) “I’ll see you later, I assume.”
With that he walked off, his cloak swaying slightly behind him.
…
Thomas still wasn’t himself, still devoid of his creativity and Ego.
Remus couldn’t entirely fill Roman’s spotless shoes. Even when he did a pretty good job, he got mud on the carpet.
Janus was growing sick of this… hiding in plain sight with Remus.
Remus had reports to make when they got together.
Logan still wandered the Mindscape but he was very stiff and hardly seemed to recognize or show emotion anymore to anyone. Logic is a danger alone, and without any intention to, Logan was tearing Thomas apart now, with no Roman to push back against him. Patton and Virgil were recovering, but very feeble- and Remus spent more and more time in his castle everyday, to make sure DW didn’t break into their shared rooms and drag them off to her kitchens for some stew.
Remus had never seen DW this restless, and he was feeling the strain himself. He wasn’t afraid, exactly, of the monster that slept inside his worst and deadliest ideas- but he was *aware*.
Meanwhile Logan was becoming a danger of his own.
The Imagination couldn’t take him down… but a well-placed Deception could. This was the basis of Thomas’ insistence on calling Janus before him day after day. Thomas’ Villainous Sides were restless as Thomas didn’t really seem to like *them* either, meaning both that Remus was beset by dangers, and also that Thomas was growing more desperate and threatening in his approach to get Janus to murder Logan.
Janus still hadn’t told Remus that was his ‘mission.’
…
Several days followed, in which Patton and Virgil continued to work from the shadows, and gained a small element of their strength back, but following soon after that- There came a day when their desperation could no longer be contained. They had to talk to Thomas. They had to get him to listen. Or perish in the attempt. (Which was silly, as none of them could ever permanently perish).
The Last Normal Day.
...
Janus lowered his shepherd’s crook cane and looked around, his energy spent. All the rest were down. Even Remus had fallen at last, defending himself and Patton. He stared around at the wreckage that was Remus’ defensive war machines, at the bundles of clothes that were prone Logan, Patton, Virgil, and Remus. Roman was still dead, reforming somewhere in the back of Thomas’ Subconscious or in his Light Side Imagination, which, along with Remus' was completely wrecked.
Janus stared over at the stupid Sides that Thomas now held close to his chest, and his face contorted into something monstrous with fury.
Thomas hadn’t even listened to them before he took them out. Seeing his authoritarian rule and the Sides he now trusted the closest, defenseless, taken out in an act of desperation- Janus was shaking- not with fear, but with fury.
Janus stepped through the dust and blood, past the limp bodies that were not yet dead like Roman was already.
“Thomas- we need this to stop. All of this. Or you will lose everything you thought you still had. You may have taken out Patton, but your heart will always feel a strong sense of regret- and guilt- and as Self-Preservation it is my duty to ensure that does not happen.”
Thomas glowered down at him, though Janus’ reasoning was true (just not his main motivation, he bargained).
“You only want to save the Light Sides you’ve grown so fond of,” he scoffed, and Janus flinched and raised his staff to attack, at Thomas’ tone…
He could not attack Thomas. He could not take out the last Sides that Thomas had to support him.
But he stepped back and stood beside his unconscious allies; he could at least protect them.
Thomas glared at him, as if, ‘you’ve chosen your side.’
Janus swallowed back the anger; he knew most of this was his own fault.
“Thomas, I hate this as much as you, but this is your last chance. If you don’t listen- then, then I’ll go.”
Thomas only stared (in horror, but in stubborn anger, too). There was disbelief in his eyes.
“You wouldn’t,” he said, then, “You *couldn’t*. *Where* would you go?”
“I don’t know,” Janus spat, “But anywhere is better than being betrayed *here*.”
Janus waited for something- anything even *close* to repentance- to show on his face.
But Janus was the leading Light Side now- a task he was never meant for- and repentance and guilt were not his functions. In fact, they were his polar opposites on most occasions.
So Thomas only stared, and Janus realized with a breaking heart that it truly *was* his own power preventing Thomas from reconciling with his Light Sides.
Thomas eyed Janus with barely any fear on his face (though that was because Virgil was half-dead, too: his power was barely working- but it was enough. Thomas would be fine).
On either side of him, Cruelty and Apathy watched, with excited smirks on their faces. They were excited to see the carnage to follow, if Janus continued to fight.
Rage erupted, hot and cold and hard, in Janus’ chest.
“Fine, then,” Janus spat. “Enjoy your ‘freedom.’ I’m leaving now.”
(Outwardly, he was deadly calm, except for the anger which he couldn’t hide: the shake in his voice and hands. He knew Cruelty was to blame for that, but for once he was grateful). He marched toward the door to the Commons. He had never done this before but he knew it was possible. He could close himself off.
Inwardly he was melting with denial and fear; outwardly he was ice, cold and bitter. *Play the part. You must do this. Do this, and they are safe.*
Thomas must repent. He must face this alone, in order to do that. *I will not help him; I would only make things worse.*
He stared back at the Villainous Sides and Thomas, and realized the horrors that would come if he left the Light Sides here, incapacitated. They would die. They would be tortured.
They must come with him.
He snapped his fingers. The others appeared beside him, still unconscious, but signs of life in tiny eye movements behind their lashes and hearts beating in their chests. *Thank God.*
He saw Remus' body, and snapped him over, too. The others didn’t approve- they may never understand him, but he had fought on their side. He was in danger. Like it or not, Remus was one of them, now.
To his delight and relief, Roman’s limp, lifeless body appeared too when he focused- there might be a way to revive him.
Sadly now, but also mockingly, he saluted Thomas, some of that deep sadness and regret brought to the surface before turnover brought anger blazing again, hot and white.
“Farewell, Thomas,” he said tauntingly. “*They’re all coming with me, too*.”
He ignored the tiny flicker of pain- fear- on Thomas face. Virgil barely stirred, his lashes moving, but he was still affecting Thomas, one of the strongest.
Janus cradled him in his arms.
“Okay…. Go!”
A rush of light and sound encompassed them all, as he stared back and saw Thomas slack-jawed and guilty, staring after him and calling him to come home.
But Janus turned his head back, to the swirling constellations of light, the eddying, rushing ocean of sound and smell and feeling, and forced his mind onto the things ahead.
(Where were they going? He didn’t know.)
…
*What I remember is... a whirling, eddying pool of light, before suddenly I was here.*
The earliest memory Janus had of being alive was when he was seven, sitting in the street by himself, when a boy in green came along and dragged him to play pirates with him. He and that boy became roommates- adoptees under the same adoptive mother. Janus and Remus were close, but eventually Remus found his brother and moved away.
--TBC-
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I hope you all enjoyed this- It was really fun to write! I had all of it outlined at least, but I filled in a lot of the gaps today. The rest should be easier, for a few chapters at least, because I have the next whole completely section pre-written, instead of only one middle section where I need to write out the full before and after of a chapter before I can even post it- whoops!
Anyway, I'm also well-planned ahead for the general way I want this story to go. If there are glaring errors, please tell me. I am a perfectionist and I always want to improve my work. :-)
That said, I still have no regular posting schedule, but I do write constantly, so this should be relatively active at least until I start college classes.
->>Onward, to the College AU!
;-) Estella K