Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Morning came too soon to the Mindscape.

Logan lay in his bed for several seconds as his alarm grew steadily louder. Just before the trill reached 38.9 decibels on his watch's sound pressure level meter, he threw back the covers and tapped his phone to halt its noisy progression.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and made his bed before dressing. A few loose pages from last night's notes scattered to the floor and he stacked them on the corner of his desk. Taking work to bed wasn't necessarily the most healthy way to address a bout of insomnia but at least it left him feeling somewhat productive. Glancing at the first few lines of last night's epiphany, now he only hoped he might be able to make out his own handwriting.

A brief morning ablution followed his tidying and he emerged in the hallway at a quarter past five, tie neat, hair combed, face and teeth scrubbed and shiny. He quietly closed his door behind himself and adjusted his glasses.

Time for his day to begin.

Patton's door across the hall sat half-open, the dim room barely bright enough to reveal his baby blue blanket still neatly tucked into place. A quick flick of Logan's eyes revealed a brighter than usual glow spilling out from beneath Roman's door, the concession of extra nightlights telling Logan precisely where Patton had spent the night.

Dim silvery light flickered beneath Virgil's door, the soft buzz of some short video played on a loop a near-certain sign he had finally succumbed to sleep. Soft enough to ensure he would not wake them with his touch, Logan brushed his fingers against each door then headed downstairs to prepare a fresh pot of coffee. A morning meal would follow after the other woke; in the meantime, Logan would make his own company from a hot brew in a warm cup.

Janus shivered as he woke, the timer on his electric blanket practically stealing the warmth from his hands even as tugged it closer. He knew that wasn't how an electric blanket actually worked, though, to be fair, he wouldn't put it past Remus to have designed the thing.

He had asked Remus to ensure the blanket wouldn't leave him too tempted to linger in bed each morning. A timer that siphoned off his body heat the longer he stayed in bed would be effective. If rather cruel.

He dressed, layering on his yellow button up over a long-sleeved undershirt before buttoning a vest and capelet that matched his heavy wool slacks. Thick knit socks tucked inside lined oxfords, he topped it all off with his bowler hat and gloves. Bracing himself for the chill of his corner of the Mindscape's hallway, he opened the door and stepped through.

Breath puffing in little white clouds, Janus walked quickly past Virgil's old door, the purple and grey trim fading a bit more each time he looked at it. Lucas and Remus' doors were closed, dark and quiet. Janus considered checking on them when he heard muffled laughter from downstairs.

Slinking down the steps, the creaking third step alerted the others to his arrival and they looked up over the back of the couch, faces flushed and guilty. "Oh, hey there, Jannie!" Remus grinned, fumbling blinding at one end of the couch. "Got a hankering for a midnight snack?"

Janus sighed, one eyebrow raised as he stared out at the sunlight seeping through the dirty grey patio window.

Lucas followed Janus' gaze. "We mighta lost track of time there, Jan." He looked down and the zzzzzzip of his trousers was unmistakable. "C'mon, Re, let's head upstairs."

"But I'm not tired, we were just getting to—"

Janus moved to the kitchen and turned on the sink to be sure he absolutely couldn't hear Lucas' words whispered between his teeth.

"Ohhhh…" Remus cackled and followed Lucas toward the stairs. "See ya in a couple hours, Jannie!"

Washing his hands as he wondered whether disinfecting the couch in bleach would be worth the stench and equally certain that, even if it did, the couple would likely find new ways to contaminate their shared living space, Janus called back with another sigh, "See you then, gentlemen."

Chapter Text

Reading by the glow of the living room's brightest reading lamp, Logan sat alone. The others were already upstairs.

Yawning loudly, Virgil had retreated to his room shortly after their movie night, gently extricating himself from the 'cuddle puddle' Patton had formed between his two partners. Virgil kissed Patton and Roman good night, then shot Logan his signature two-fingered salute before taking the stairs up two at a time. It hadn't taken long for the remaining two-thirds of their throuple to retire.

Logan had watched them go, nodding at Patton's little wave from over the top of his book. He'd only been half-reading it, really, and that was merely to provide the partners a bit of cover for their affection. Mid-way through the movie, Virgil had shivered beside him. He'd stood to fetch a blanket from beside the couch. In the time it took to stand, Patton had shifted, sprawling over his partners with a giggle. Logan had covered them with the blanket, ducking to avoid blocking the screen more than was completely necessary, and, despite weak protest from the trio, had settled into the armchair next to the couch.

They'd been respectful but Logan would have been blind to miss the little kisses against temples and fingers, the way Roman nuzzled against the side of Patton's neck. They way Virgil stroked Roman's knee. Too late, Logan realized he should have made his excuses for an early night and gone upstairs long before the credits had rolled. By the time the thought occurred to him, he was certain his retreat would spark a round of obligatory protests. So instead, he'd devoted his attention to the film and waited for the rest to make their way upstairs.

Alone, reading would come easier and, two pages out from the start of the next chapter, Logan had renewed his concentration and read until he'd finished the current section. Tucking the bookmark between the pages, he set the book back down on the side table and tidied up downstairs.

Tidying didn't take long.

He completed one final pass through the living room and kitchen, figuratively checking off each item on his evening list. Satisfied he'd sufficiently prepared the space for a the start of a new day, he nodded to himself and started up the stairs.

Recalling Virgil's little shiver, Logan noted the start of autumn had brought unseasonably cool—for Florida, at least—weather to the Mindscape. He rubbed his hands briskly over his forearms, frowning down at his short polo sleeves as he shuddered. He even imagined his breath came out in a little puff of white. If this fall delivered on its promised cooler temperatures, he might need to adopt the longer black sleeved shirt he'd worn a few videos back.

The upstairs hall was dark and Logan's eyes darted to the nightlights spaced at regular intervals along the corridor. They were all lit, but in his fatigue, their tiny spots of light seemed consumed by the surrounding darkness, leaving little light left to spill over the floor or light the upper half of the hallway walls.

All the more certain he should have retired earlier, Logan made another figurative note to himself not to stay up so late. At any rate, a good night's sleep would restore him.

Virgil, in fact, was already asleep, the gap beneath his door remarkably dark, with not even a flicker from a phone screen bleeding through. And Roman's door—Logan stopped short.

Roman's door wasn't red.

He approached it slowly. The dim hall gave the Creative Side's door a murky greenish cast and deep shadows lent the appearance of gouges and scratched in the finish. Logan brushed his hand down the door frame.

His hand came away wet and sticky.

Logan stepped back, shaking his hand. The back of his heel scraped the door behind him and he turned, prepared to apologize for disturbing Virgil's rest, but his door remained dark and still. Closer to the frame now, Logan noticed cobwebs in the corners; the knob criss-crossed with layers of dusty webbing.

A door behind him opened and he spun, coming face-to-face with Janus leaving his room.

Well, not his room. A glance past Janus' shoulder revealed a glimpse of yellow bedding and flickering candlelight.

"Logic?" Janus frowned, closing the door behind himself. It gleamed a soft golden yellow, varnished sunshine. Icterine, he corrected himself.

Janus tightened the belt on the heavy robe wrapped around his form. Gloves appeared from one pocket, covering the brief flash of sparkling scales covering the back of his left hand. "Was there something you needed, Logic? Rather late for a social call, don't you think?"

"I—" Logan looked up and down the hallway. Vision better adjusted to the dark, Logan now picked out the faded carpet runner, the broken wall sconces, the series of puncture marks scattered along the wall about a foot from the floor.

Janus followed his gaze. "Yes. Remus isn't always careful with his Morningstar in the mornings." His expression was implacable but his voice carried a hint of—remembered?—pain. "Mind your ankles if you're ever around when he wakes."

Logan opened his mouth again to speak, but the words were stuck in his throat. Finally, he shook his head and dashed downstairs. The last step creaked, loose, and he stumbled, bumping into the back of the sofa. Low light washed over the space and Janus' voice now came from the hall behind. The lights gradually grew brighter but stopped before they could completely eliminate the shadows reaching for them from the corners.

"Logic?" he spoke slowly, just barely loud enough to be heard over a harsh wheezing sound filling his ears.

Concentrating on sinking out of Janus' side of the Mindscape, Logan shook his head.

But he remained where he was.

"Logic?" Janus repeated, suddenly beside him. His voice cut through the strained wheezing filling Logan's ears. "Logic, breathe." A gloved hand rested lightly on his arm, tapping the rhythm Logan used with Virgil during the worst of his panic attacks.

That's when Logan realized the wheezing was coming from him.

Fingers tapping on Logan's arm, his other hand gripped firmly on his shoulder, Janus inhaled slowly to the beat. "And hold," he murmured, tapping steadily.

Logan's sustained breath pushed out in a broken whine before he'd reached three taps.

"That's okay, let's try again," Janus murmured.

Logan required an embarrassingly long time to get his breathing under control enough to speak. "Thank you," he managed, not quite himself yet. He stepped away from Janus' touch, releasing the other Side from his obligation.

Janus waved away the gratitude. "Anytime, Logic," he murmured. His hands hovered close for one more moment before he then let them fall to his sides.

"I—" Logan watched Janus' gloved hands flex then relax, stretching from their work of keeping the beat of his breathing. "I apologize. I… I don't know what came over me. I'll be going—" He tried again to sink out. His chest tightened when, again, he remained where he was. Hot tears stung his eyes and he stared down at the floor, solid and impenetrable, beneath him. "It—" He tried again to no avail. "It … it seems I cannot."

Humming softly, Janus offered a gloved hand. "Perhaps I may assist you?"

Logan didn't dare look up, his tears sure to be noticeable even in the dimmed light of the other side of the Mindscape.

"I could bring you to your room," Janus continued, clarifying as if Logan hadn't understood his proposition.

The promise of the space and privacy he needed to compose himself was nearly enough. Nearly.

But it was the creak of an upstairs door that drove Logan forward. He accepted Janus' offered hand and closed his eyes, pledging never again to take for granted the familiar sink and rise as as the living room disappeared and a new room appeared around them.

Janus' room.

Chapter Text

Remus and Lucas were taking their time returning from their excursion to the Imagination. While Janus had extracted seemingly honest pledges from each of them not to disturb Roman's realm, neither had been completely forthcoming with the details of their plans.

And, frankly, Janus was just tired enough to accept the gift of a moderately tranquil evening in exchange for overlooking their obvious subterfuge. As long as they kept Roman out of it, he could wash his hands of their entire affair.

Even if he knew it meant he'd be tasked with cornering the pair of them and patching up them up the morning after their adventure.

So Janus was surprised when, instead of the soft creak of Lucas' door announcing their return, he heard stumbling in the hall. Setting down his book, he pushed away an icy twinge of worry. How bad were their injuries that they couldn't even 'sneak' back in properly?

Janus shook his head. Surely they were simply trying to get away with something… untoward. That was all. No need for worry.

Already shivering as he peeled away his electric blanket, Janus stood and wrapped himself in his warmest robe. If the dynamic duo was taking such pains to keep their return from the Imagination quiet, the duo had some mischief to hide. The longer Janus took to ready himself, the less likely he would be to catch them in the act—and the more havoc they could cause. There was no time to dress completely.

He opened his door, hand raised and ready to silence any of their excuses. But instead of spying Remus and Lucas, bloodied and muddied from whatever trouble they'd gotten up to in the Imagination, Janus found Logan.

Alone in the hallway, smoky shadows etched under confused eyes, Logan whipped around to face him. His hands shook and the ordinarily loquacious Side seemed struck dumb. Logan looked past him and into his room, eyes widening at whatever he saw.

"Logic?"

Logan's eyes darted down to his scaled hands and Janus quickly covered them with the spare gloves he kept in all his pockets just in case. In case of impossibilities such as this.

Janus pulled his robe a little closer around himself. "Was there something you needed, Logic?" The other's silence had begun to unnerve him and Janus stepped closer. "Rather late for a social call, don't you think?"

"I—" Logan looked around himself as though he didn't know where he was. How the hell had he gotten here if not intentionally? The others could come here, of course. Janus guarded the doors between their halves of the Mindscape in only direction. And even then, that was only for Lucas and Remus.

Logan's eyes traced the latest path of destruction Remus's dear Lucie had traced along the hall.

The scales running up Janus' leg had only grown back thicker after the one morning the Creative Side had caught him off guard. "Yes. Remus isn't always careful with his Morningstar in the mornings." Some mistakes Janus only made once. "Mind your ankles if you're ever around when he wakes."

Silenced by some force Janus did not control, Logan opened and closed and opened his mouth again, wordless, speechless.

He ran.

And Janus followed. But before he could warn him, Logan tripped on the last step, the hidden damage from Virgil's final betrayal just one of many Janus could not repair.

Logan leaned heavily against the back of the sofa and Janus slid behind him to the wall switch and slowly turned up the lights. With his eyes already adjusted to the dim light upstairs, the last thing the Logical Side needed was to be blinded by sudden illumination.

He squinted through crooked glasses at the stained carpet, the dirty patio doors that resisted every attempt Janus made to clean them. The ruined "Big Picture" painting.

With each inhalation catching in his chest, Logan's shoulders heaved, straining to draw in enough air to speak or even stand.

The all-too familiar sounds of a blooming panic attack shook Janus into action. He moved to Logan's side before he could really think about it, hands reaching to steady him without asking.

"Logic?" He kept his voice low but still Logan looked up like he'd forgotten he was there. "Logic, breathe," Janus said, tapping the 4-7-8 pattern that used to be the only thing that could get through to Virgil in this state.

"Good," he nodded when Logan complied. "And hold," Janus said, stroking Logan's back when he couldn't sustain a breath for longer than three seconds.

"That's okay, let's try again," Janus murmured.

Watching Logan, the Sides' logic, speechless with panic was jarring. A bit like when Roman apologized or when Lucas cried. Or every time Virgil's shadows turned purple. But Janus remained close, gently drawing Logan nearer when he leaned in to his touch, head bowed and resting lightly on Janus' shoulder.

"You're safe," Janus whispered as he tapped the steady beat, not sure how much Logan could even hear over his wheezing. "You're safe with me, Logic."

Slowly, Logan's breathing quieted, deepening bit by bit until he straightened and stood tall, shoulders squared. "Thank you," he said tightly, pulling away from Janus' hold.

Janus smiled and hid his shiver at the loss of closeness. "Anytime, Logic," he murmured.

Logan swayed every so slightly and Janus stood with hands ready, merely to catch him, of course. Finally he lowered his hands when Logan seemed certain not to fall and Janus had run out of excuses to hold him.

Still, Janus couldn't move away completely. Even through the gloves, Logan's body heat had been a welcome comfort to Janus' perpetually frigid hands. Not even he could deny he missed the warmth.

"I—I apologize." Logan continued to avoid his gaze. "I… I don't know what came over me. I'll be going—" Head down and shoulders rounding, he remained otherwise motionless, rooted to the frayed carpet.

Janus stepped closer, consciously relaxing his hands at his sides. But he had no hold on the Logical Side, no tethers keeping him here; the gates between their corners of the Mindscape were wide open.

"It…" Logan's voice was thick with tears and his body trembled with effort as he appeared to try to force himself right through the floor. "It seems I cannot."

The floor remained dull and solid beneath his feet, with none of the springiness it got when Remus or Lucas would try to sneak off without Janus' release.

This wasn't him.

Not knowing what else to do, Janus extended his hand. "Perhaps I may assist you?"

Logan wouldn't even look at him.

"I could bring you to your room," he coaxed gently. Despite the timelessness of evenings in this part of the Mindscape, Logan's exhausted appearance led Janus to believe it was quite late. He was fairly certain none of the others would be awake.

He was equally certain Logan wouldn't dare risk rising up in the middle of them in the living room or the hall, tears dripping down his cheeks. Rising up directly in his own room was likely worth the loss of privacy Janus' brief presence would inflict.

Logan's fingers twitched closer, reaching. He didn't take his hand, though, until the loud creak of Remus' doorway to the Imagination spilled down the stairs.

With a firm grip on Logan's hand, Janus sank them both down and, for just a second, he smelled the rich coffee-and-ink scent of Logan's room. Something pushed him back and, with Remus and Lucas' voices in his ears, Janus shifted and brought Logan up into his own room.

"Why—" Logan began, shaking as he looked around. "Why have you—"

Someone banged on the bedroom door and Janus' hand automatically closed in a loose fist, silencing Logan's questions. His face twisted in rage at the violation only to pale, eyes wide, when Remus' voice filtered through the closed door. "Hey, Jannie!"

Thank Thomas he'd remembered to lock it or Remus surely would have barged right in.

"Jannie, we're back!" he crowed. "And we brought you something!"

"Re, you maniac," Lucas chuckled from the other side of the door. Janus heard a wet smacking sound followed by Remus' cackle. "If Janus has any sense at all, he's asleep."

"Aw," Remus whined and banged on the door again. Logan shuddered behind him, stuttered breath pitching up. Janus reached for his hand and, in his desperation, Logan took it. "But I wanna give it to him tonight!"

"Come on… I'll give you something tonight."

Remus cackled again and the pounding on Janus' door stopped. "You promise?"

"Don't I always?"

Janus heard their footsteps recede from the door. "Say goodnight, Re."

"'Goodnight, Re'" Remus laughed. "We'll keep the door unlocked if you wanna watch!"

Lucas' door—it squealed less than Remus'—closed and the hallway fell silent again. Janus sighed, shoulders dropping down in relief. He realized he was still holding Logan's hand and he loosened his grip, not quite able to force himself to be the first to move away. Even in his room, the warmest in this part of the Mindscape, Logan's hand burned against his palm. The heat of a good shower or the campfire from Thomas' scouting days.

A hot coffee.

Logan was slow to let go.

"Are they always so… demonstrative?" Logan finally asked.

Janus shook his head and finally dared to look over his shoulder. Posture stiff and arms crossed over his chest, Logan had taken on the pose of a stern teacher. But to Janus, he just looked liked he was hugging himself.

Still pale and still sporting shadows that rivaled Virgil's, at least Logan was breathing normally now. The chance to observe and learn about the Sides Janus kept most under wraps seemed to have set aside a bit of his earlier panic. Janus smiled. "They're usually worse. Ever since I locked them in Lucas' room for a month after one particularly energetic evening, now they at least close the door."

Logan's eyes widened and he stepped back, eyeing the door and the window. The vaguely threatening words had tumbled past Janus' lips, the power of his room forcing more transparency than he was accustomed to.

Janus didn't get a lot of guests in his room. Remus and Lucas preferred not to spend time there and Roman had only come to see him twice. It had been years since Patton—or Virgil, for that matter—had dared set foot past his threshold, let alone linger long enough for an actual conversation.

This was Logan's first visit.

"The walls of my room ensure a certain level of… honesty," Janus said slowly, taking greater care with his words. "It requires some getting used to. But I promise you," he added, meeting Logan's eyes. "I will not lock you away."

"Then why am I here?" He edged closer to the door but started at a sudden slam from across the hall. "Why did you bring me to your room instead of mine?"

"I tried!" Janus hissed, calm shattering. What if he couldn't ever bring Logan back? He took a deep breath and offered his hand. "We can try gain, I'll—"

"But I don't wa—" Logan's mouth closed and he shook his head slightly before trying again. "I don't wa—" He sighed, almost a growl, and turned away. "I don't believe you."

Silence sat heavy between them as Janus parsed through the real truth his room was trying to push past Logan's control. Remus' partial acceptance had allowed Janus to loosen his reins and Janus had gotten quite the earful of all the goings on in the other half of the Mindscape.

Finally, he nodded at the Logical Side. "I would be surprised if you did."

Jaw tight, Logan stood tall, hands fisted and tucked beneath his arms. His gaze was steady but his mouth still trembled, glasses fogged, as he looked back at him over his shoulder.

"Come, Logic," Janus murmured and gestured toward the bench at the foot of his bed. "Make yourself at home. We'll both be better problem solvers after some sleep. I'll find you something to wear."