Chapter Text
Speak easy on the grapevine
Keep shufflin' in a shoe shine
Old tin lizzy, do it 'til you're dizzy
Give it all you got until you're put out of your misery
A gentle tapping on his door interrupted Janus' fitful attempt at sleep. It couldn't be morning already, could it?
He chalked it up to sleep deprivation when the sight of Patton's face in the doorway actually made him smile . After all, irritation flooded in soon after. Janus had been trying (and failing) to sleep .
"'Morning!" Patton said, his own smile a touch strained.
Janus hid a yawn behind his hand and blinked slowly at Patton until his higher reasoning kicked in. "Good morning, Patton. I assume you need something from me? Or have you developed a magnetic attraction to my door?"
"What?" Patton stopped leaning on the doorframe and stood up straight. "No, I-- I was just about to make breakfast and I thought I'd come see if you wanted to join me."
Janus could practically feel the steam coming out of ears as he tried to come up with a way to decline that wouldn't hurt Patton's feelings. "I don't usually eat first thing in the morning," he said, only just managing not to stammer.
"Coffee, then? Black coffee."
"Like my soul," Janus said automatically.
Unfortunately, Patton seemed to take this as an agreement to join him. "Great!"
His smile wavered a little and his eyes kept flickering to the top of Janus' head-- "Just a moment." Janus ducked back into his room, put his hat back on, and followed Patton down the hall, surveying himself with distaste. His outfit was wrinkled after a night of tossing and turning, and that simply wouldn't do. Janus focused and watched in satisfaction as the creases receded from his clothing.
Then he did some mental math.
Even now, there was no chance that Janus was Patton's first choice of companion, and Patton would have at least had the good sense to warn him if any hostile parties awaited them in the kitchen. At the moment, Logan, Virgil, and Roman all counted as 'hostile parties.' This being the “light” side, Remus didn’t factor in. Ergo, Janus and Patton must have been the only ones awake or willing to come out.
The eerie silence lent credence to that conclusion. The Light side was usually full of such spirited bickering that Janus and Remus could hear it on the other side of the curtain if they listened.
It was a bit odd that Virgil and Logan weren't showing their faces. Virgil in particular couldn't have known Janus was there unless Patton had told him, but Patton had given no indication last night that he was planning on speaking to anyone.
It was quite the mystery, and Janus was more than happy to let it lie until he was better-rested. Last night's headache had returned with a vengeance and exhaustion clawed at the corners of his mind. His capelet may as well have been wet denim, the way it weighed down his shoulders.
"Black coffee," Patton handed Janus last night's ouroboros mug, "espresso-ly for you!"
Janus shook himself. He hadn't even realized they'd arrived in the kitchen. "Thank you," he said, for once at a loss for something sarcastic to say. He thought about much smoother his day would go if he didn't have this budding migraine to contend with and quickly swallowed down the aspirin that appeared in his palm.
"You're sure you don't want breakfast?" Patton asked. "I could make something light. After all, you should know better than anyone not to skip breakfast, Professor Self Care."
"I'm not skipping anything," Janus said, trying to keep a lid on his irritation. He leaned back against the counter and forced himself to take another long swallow of bitter black coffee. "Just delaying it."
"Okaaay," Patton said, sing-song, "but you're gonna feel icky later."
Janus almost responded that he felt pretty 'icky’ now and the nagging wasn't helping, but managed to keep his mouth shut. It didn't help that Patton was technically correct.
Now there was an uncomfortable thought.
Janus leaned against the counter and let his mind wander, idly watching Patton crack eggs into a skillet.
Janus had work to do. Now that Thomas was prepared to listen, Janus' subtler methods of suggestion would serve him no longer. He had thought patterns to dismantle and others to build, not to mention that he wanted to see Remus and find some time to take a nap if possible. And of course, he would have to find time to eat breakfast. Just not now. Not with Patton.
However… Patton's aversion to being alone meant that Janus would have to wait until another side emerged so he could pass off the baton.
Speaking of…
"Patton?"
"Yeah?"
"I understand Roman's hesitancy to show his face--"
"Hey."
"--but surely Virgil or Logan aren't scared of me. I'm a bit surprised Virgil hasn't shown up to try to run me off."
Patton bit his lip, his brow creasing. Janus hadn't been trying to upset him, but Patton looked like he'd just been forced to give his favorite puppy up for adoption. "Probably not." A beat. "Every time I try to talk to Virgil, he just says he's 'going through it' and won't open the door."
Janus hurriedly raised his mug to his lips so Patton wouldn't see his smile. That certainly sounded like Virgil. "Surely Logan has been more forthcoming."
"I knocked on his door a few times, too, but he won't answer at all. I think he's upset with me."
Now that was an interesting development. And problematic, because that meant Janus was going to have to babysit Patton until something gave. "I thought Logan didn't get upset."
"You heard him yesterday. He said we didn't care about him!"
Janus studied the seams of his gloves, feigning disinterest. "Yes, I did think he was being a little melodramatic. Of course I didn't hurt him."
"He wasn't being dramatic!" Patton insisted. "If Logan feels like we don't care about him… It must have been going on for a while, and none of us noticed. We're supposed to be his friends!"
"I'm sure he'll get over it soon," Janus goaded.
"I don't know, Janus." Patton fixed him with a sorrowful look before turning back to the stove. "I've never known him to get this upset about anything . It feels like everything got really bad all at once and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know what to do."
Janus downed the rest of his coffee and immediately went for a refill. Of course Patton couldn't fix it; the Lights needed more than nagging and platitudes, more than just the Band-Aid solution of superficial apologies with no changed behavior. No, they needed someone to help them introspect, someone smart enough to see through their self-absorbed nonsense.
"Penny for your thoughts," Patton said.
Janus didn't jump like he'd been electrocuted. "My thoughts are worth far more than that," he said, recovering smoothly.
"Can I get a friends and family discount?" Patton asked. He switched off the stove and carefully levered the eggs he'd fried onto a bagel.
"I was thinking about all the work I have to do today," Janus said. It was never too early to start dropping hints.
"Don't forget about breakfast,” Patton said. Nagged. “I could bring you something later, if you want."
Something in Janus' head clicked. Roman and Logan both seemed like the type to get caught up in their work and forget to eat. Patton had probably grown used to babying them. "Don't worry, Patton. Unlike certain other Sides I can actually take care of myself."
"Oh?"
"Yes, it would make perfect sense for the embodiment of self-care to forget something as basic as eating ."
Patton circled around the counter and hopped onto one of the barstools. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to be pushy."
He looked at Janus with an expression of earnest regret, his eyes sparkling in the overhead lights. Somewhere deep inside him, Janus' heart pounded. He set his coffee mug aside. Patton must have brewed it strong; it usually took at least three cups to get his heart racing like this and he hadn't even finished his second yet.
"Janus?" Patton looked at him over the tops of his glasses.
"Hm?"
"Did you hear me?"
"...Yes."
Patton smiled. "I asked if you wanted to work in the living room. You know, since, um. It's just gonna be the two of us."
"No," said Janus automatically.
"No?"
"Yes."
"Now I'm confused."
So am I , Janus nearly said. He schooled his expression behind the distraction of another sip of coffee. "I have business with Remus I need to attend to." Why was Patton's bereft expression so unbearably painful? "Maybe later we could," don't , "play cards again."
Patton's sun-bright smile was so dazzling that Janus nearly had to look away. "I'd love that!"
Janus tipped his hat and sank out before he could sign himself up for any more bonding activities.
The Dark Side was pitch black. Janus stood very, very still. "Remus?" he called tentatively, not wanting to interrupt if Remus was focused on a project.
A spotlight clicked on, illuminating Remus standing in the center of a stage. "Oh!" he said, glancing in Janus' general direction. "Hi!"
Janus looked down with annoyance to find that his sensible black oxfords had been replaced with pointe shoes. He changed them back with a concentrated effort. "What's this?"
"I was working on a nightmare for Thomas." In a blink, Remus restored the living room. He flopped down on the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table, revealing blood stains on the tips of his own pointe shoes. “Little early for day drinking, don’t you think?”
Janus realized he was still holding the coffee mug Patton had given him. He switched the contents out with water and took a long drink. The aspirin had barely touched his headache and the nagging, low-level pain invited in nausea and lightheadedness. Better to take care of that before it escalated into something worse.
He sat beside Remus on the couch and ran a hand through his hair, knocking his hat askew in the process. “You have no idea what it’s like over there.” He straightened his hat and squinted at Remus' shoes. “Wait. A nightmare about ballet?”
“You remember Black Swan?”
“Oh. Well. As much as I’d love to waste your time when you clearly have something better to do, I can always come back later.”
“No, no.” Remus changed his pointe shoes back into boots. “You look like shit. What did they do to you?”
“I do not!” Janus set his water down and summoned a hand mirror. He did look, perhaps, a little tired, but that was easily fixed with a small illusion. He sent the hand mirror back to his room and didn’t glare at Remus. “I do not.”
Remus’ smile shattered into a laugh. “Go on, what did they do to you? Wrap you up in a blanket and make you cookies? Wash your feet with scented oils?”
“Yes, right after the parade they held in my honor.”
"And then they all took turns sucking your--"
" Please put that image in my head."
Remus just gave an apologetic shrug and settled back into the couch cushions. "So what's really going on, hm? It hasn't even been a day and you're already running back to me to bitch about it. They’re not still fighting, are they?”
“Ugh, Remus .” Janus tilted his head back, pressing the back of his hand to his brow in an exaggerated swoon. Still, he was careful to keep his voice low in case anyone was listening. “They're all locked in their rooms pouting. Except for Patton, who keeps following me around like a lost little puppy. "It’s so…" A litany of words sprang to Janus' mind; to his horror 'endearing' was among them. "Ugh," he said, waving a hand vaguely.
“You like it.” Remus’ grin was positively demonic.
“Oh, yes, I do so enjoy having a nagging little tagalong,” Janus said, but it was too late. Remus had latched onto the idea like barnacles to a boat's hull.
"You like him !"
"Oh, yes, Remus, I've been planning out our wedding all day. I just love the sad little puppy dog look he gives me whenever I try to leave the room. It was love at first self-righteous lecture."
Remus' grin widened until it threatened to split his face (a very real possibility when he was involved). "The snakey doth protest too much, methinks."
" No, I--"
“What’s your plan?" Remus interrupted. "Going to seduce him? You going to write a love poem ?”
“Oh, definitely ," Janus sneered. "What rhymes with ‘exasperating’?”
“Masturbating? Kind of a slant rhyme, but I think you could sell it.”
“Charming.”
“Hey.” Remus shrugged. “You came to me for romantic advice.”
“Yes, that was why I came to see you. Not to complain about how The Great American Nag won’t stop following me around and sighing wistfully about how his friends are sad, boohoo.”
Remus’ eyes sparkled. “You do have a plan to deal with him.”
“One that doesn’t involve seduction via dirty love poetry, I’m afraid," Janus said, making an exaggerated pouty face with accompanying hand gestures.
“Boring," Remus replied.
“But you’ll listen anyway because you love me ever so?”
“Like flies love dookie.”
Janus held up a hand to stop Remus from actually summoning a cloud of flies. “If I can at least get Logan out of his room, then Patton will stop following me around and I can get back to--”
“Lusting over Daddy in the shadows?”
Janus took a long, measured breath. “I’m not lusting--”
“Face it, Snakehole."
"Ew."
"You can’t stand seeing Hot Daddicus Finch sad. You want to fix it for him. It’s funny, actually.” To illustrate his point, Remus gave a shrill, hyena cackle. "After all those nights complaining about his, what did you call it, 'saccharine simpering,' it turns out you --" he poked Janus in the chest-- "have a sweet tooth."
“I--” All of Janus' instincts were screaming at him: deny, deny, deny! But shock stilled his tongue and left him staring at Remus as a horrifying realization dawned on him.
Remus seemed to reach the same conclusion at the same time. "Holy shit, was I right ? I was just teasing!"
If Remus were any other side, Janus would have thrown an insult at him and made a tactical retreat. Instead, he stood, fussing with his cape so he wouldn’t have to look Remus in the eye. “I have to go speak with Logan.”
“That means I’m right, right?” Remus cackled again, longer this time. “Careful, Jay, you’re getting predictable.”
“No, this was all according to plan,” Janus said, already walking away. “You’re just a pawn in my vast chess game.”
“I prefer checkers,” Remus called after him. “Good luck! Don't forget to wear a condom!"
Janus chose to appear right outside Logan’s door, the better to avoid an accidental run-in with Patton. Despite Remus’ taunting, Janus really didn’t want Patton to know what he was up to, and not because he thought it might hurt Patton's feelings, and certainly not because he feared the effect that Patton’s starry-eyed gratitude might have on him. He just preferred to handle his dealings in the dark, that was all.
Strategy remained something of an afterthought. Remus' teasing had left Janus too flustered to focus, and now he was outside Logan's door.
Well.
First, he had to get in. Then he could draw the details out of Logan and improvise from there.
Janus knocked on the door with the back of his hand. “Logan? It’s Janus. I had a question for you, if you’re not too busy.”
It was gentle flattery, but flattery all the same: Janus humbling himself before Logan’s intellect. It was also an appeal to Logan’s natural curiosity; surely he would want to know what it was Janus needed help with.
Sure enough, Logan opened the door a crack. His eyes were blank behind his glasses, his mouth a straight line. “Did I hear you correctly? You want my help?”
“No.” Janus couldn't help but roll his eyes. “I was hoping to have an intellectual discussion with Roman. Isn’t his door blue?” His head throbbed and he realized with some irritation that he had forgotten to eat something before getting on with his business. Patton had been right after all.
Logan didn’t budge. “What’s your question?”
“Logan, I’m surprised at you. I'd think you would know better than to leave a guest standing in the hall.”
“I'm sorry, but I don’t desire company at this time.”
“Well.” Janus straightened up. “Maybe I will ask Roman instead. For all the good it'll do me."
It was an obvious bluff: Janus weighing Logan’s jealousy against his anger.
The scales tipped.
Logan opened the door properly and stepped aside. “Come in.”
Janus fought to keep the smile out of his voice. “ Thank you.”
Logan shut the door behind him and crossed to the opposite side of the room. He neither sat nor offered Janus a seat, only stared at him with cold expectation. “Your question, Deceit.”
“Janus.”
“Excuse me?”
“Call me Janus.”
“Very well.” Logan stared him down. “Your question, Janus.”
“What’s that? ” Janus had never been the best at eye contact whereas Logan insisted on it. Janus had flicked his eyes away from Logan’s icy gaze and caught sight of a line of sickly blue bruises on the side of Logan’s neck. An instinctive wave of guilt made his stomach clench.
“They are bruises,” Logan said matter-of-factly, though his facial expression displayed an intense desire to talk about something else. “Bruises form when capillaries, small blood vessels near the skin’s surface, are broken, usually due to an impact with something hard.” He hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Something like a wooden shepherd’s crook, for example.”
Janus chose to avoid meeting Logan’s gaze; his capelet was sliding off his shoulder and he needed to adjust it. “You know as well as I do that injuries only affect us if we believe in them. Or have you forgotten Remus’ little throwing star lobotomy?”
“I’m aware,” Logan said stiffly.
Another dizzying wave of guilt threatened to knock Janus over. He took a half-step backwards to keep his footing. “Look. If it’s any consolation, Logan, I wouldn’t have done that if I had known it was going to hurt you.”
Logan’s face twitched with something that Janus recognized a split second later-- suppressed rage. “Janus,” he said, his voice somehow even. “I do not believe you.”
"Oh, yes," Janus spat, every word laced with venom, "You're right . I love causing unnecessary bodily harm to other Sides, that sounds exactly like me."
Logan gave a slight shake of his head. “You-- all of you --have made it abundantly clear that my presence is neither welcomed nor, in many cases, even tolerated. You would have done whatever it took to get me out of the way so you could pursue your agenda, and the others would likely not have stopped you even if they had known. Or rather, had they tried to stop you, it would have been in the service of doing just that: stopping you, rather than in service of assisting me ." Janus' defensive anger gave way to something very like concern, but Logan was still going: "They have given no indication they care about me; in fact, I believe they have grown to dislike me.” Logan broke off, breathing heavily. He didn’t seem to notice the way his fingers dug into his neck. "So, no, Janus. I do not believe you. Kindly ask your question and leave."
“I…” said Janus, for the sake of not making Logan feel judged while he came up with something of substance to respond. He hadn't been expecting that . “Didn’t Patton come check on you?”
“He left,” Logan said. “I waited, and he left.”
“You wanted him to apologize,” Janus guessed. “You wanted him to notice that he’d hurt you and apologize for it.”
Logan adjusted his tie. “I do not feel, and therefore I do not want.”
Janus didn’t even have to respond to that, only raise his eyebrows and look at the bruises that marred Logan’s skin (the bruises he had left).
“Janus, I do not understand what you stand to gain from this conversation,” Logan said. “I don't believe you would have come here just to watch me embarrass myself. Did you have a question, or was there something else you wanted from me?"
Janus ignored the question. He had just landed on his strategy. “Would you like to learn something, Logan?”
“Always.”
“Even though you might not like it?”
“It is irrational to dislike knowledge.”
“So it doesn’t bother you that 85 is divisible by 17?”
For a moment, Logan looked like he might argue. Then he sighed, and might even have smiled a bit. “Go on.”
"You," Janus pointed at him, "have been derelict in your duty." He waited for Logan to look suitably offended before he continued, "Not as Logic, but as a friend."
Logan frowned, not offended, but puzzled. "I have?"
Janus thought it might be a bit too much to change Logan's room into a stage, but it was alright; he didn't need the physical change to feel the spotlight on him, to see Logan sitting, rapt, in the audience. “If you haven’t told the others how you feel, you have no right to expect them to just know . Patton and Roman especially have a difficult time intuiting how others are feeling unless you spoon-feed it to them. You cannot lock yourself away and expect them to come crawling on their knees, begging for your forgiveness. You need to communicate. You need to tell them how you feel .”
“How,” Logan said drily, “does one ‘spoon-feed’ emotions?”
“Please keep trying to deflect; you're so good at it."
“But you’re saying that I should explain to the others that my f…”
“ Go on.”
“Feelings are hurt.” Logan winced.
“Growth is often uncomfortable,” Janus said, adding a silent ‘ not that I would know’ for his own benefit.
“And you’re sure they’ll listen?” Logan, for the first time since Janus had known him, looked unsure. He adjusted his tie, which was already immaculate, and stared at Janus.
“One can only hope, since they claim to be your friends," Janus said to reassure him. "And you know, use ‘“I” statements’ instead of ‘“you” statements,’ you remember elementary school.”
A pause.
“Janus? Please elaborate on one thing for me."
"Yes?"
"Why are you helping me? Last time we were in proximity, you gave no indication whatsoever that you cared for me or my 'feelings,' nor for anyone else's. What changed?"
"It's complicated," Janus said, trying to evade the question.
"It's my job to handle 'complicated.' So tell me: Why are you helping me?"
Oh, Janus just loved feeling cornered. His eyes kept finding their way to the bruises on Logan's neck, tangible proof of all the pain Janus had caused. "Quid pro quo," he lied. "Patton misses you and I owe him a debt." His head swam and he forced himself to stand perfectly still to try to keep his balance. Blue bruises dominated his vision.
"Falsehood."
"Fine." Janus curled his lip. "Because I felt sorry for you--"
"Janus," Logan said in a tone of patient annoyance, like an irritated schoolteacher, "please."
Janus took a breath and tried to swallow down the sick guilt clawing at his chest. He wished Logan would have offered him a chair. Now was probably a bad time to ask. “It's because I’m sorry . I--” The room tilted sideways and he staggered in a bid to keep his balance, as there was nothing to steady himself against. “I’m sorry I did that.” He gestured at Logan's neck, fighting for breath. Every word seemed to require twice as much oxygen as usual. “It was wrong of me to silence you. And…” Deep breath. “Even though I thought it wouldn’t affect you--” Telling the truth didn’t usually hurt like this; he felt a little like he was going to be sick. What was going on? “It did, and I'm sorry."
His vision faded out.