Janus just isn’t quite sure what he’s doing, but surely fake-it-til-you-make-it will work here.
He’s like bird dad trying to feed his chicks whole mice; he’s trying his best and learning eventually.
Virgil and Remus probably had to look after themselves more than they should have, but they’re well aware that Janus is trying and will always make time to help or learn how to do better.
Janus would definitely be more lax than Patton, considering Remus likely gave him a thorough crash course on Side durability (object permanence) and whether something can kill them (nope) at one point or another. It’s probably fine they’re very responsible at least half the time.
Personally I enjoy the dark side angst of them making it work. They’re all equally a disaster in canon, with the added emphasis of their traits, so it’s easy to picture any of them as a little lost on how to be responsible for three whole lives. (Except maybe dadmus because I like making him run on cartoon logic, and competent adult remus is funny) It definitely becomes funnier if you picture them all the same age, as well as closer to what Patton’s doing in canon. I’m always a sucker for the kid sides though.
A/N: This chapter feels shorter than it is but writing’s hard and it’ll hurt you anyway so whatever SJDGJSGD have fun :)
Synopsis: When the twins split two years ago, Janus was tasked with raising Remus. His only help was the evasive and sullen Virgil- who he already had to wrangle like a stray teenager. The endless days in the Dark Side’s Mindpalace were broken only by monthly catch-ups with Patton, and the only thing that ever changed the stories that Janus used to get Remus to bed. This time, though, something was different: secrets were slipping through Janus’ lips- and past the divide between Dark and Light.
Ships: Moceit
Word count: 1117
TW: swearing, crying, ask to tag!
“I have a brother!”
The squeak might’ve been a question if it hadn’t grown so harshly in volume and pitch along the way. Remus was basically vibrating with energy, and Janus was filled with exhaustion at the thought of the damage control he’d have to face- even as the proclamation lifted two years of weight from his shoulders.
“We’re all quite taken to interpreting it that way, yes- but he’s mostly your… other half. He’s your age, and he’s been living with Logan and Patton.” Janus said, voice even. His next words, however, threatened to choke him. “You aren’t permitted to see him, though. Not yet.”
“That’s a pile of donkey shit!” Remus spoke, not missing a beat. His caretaker winced. “Where is he?”
“I can’t tell you, Remus.”
“Is he in the house?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“He is?!”
“He’s not.”
Remus’ face was energized and determined in a way that meant he was devastated. Janus’ guilt- what remained of it- was melting away in the face of righteousness. He was making the right decision. “It’s not my fault, Remus. You’re not permitted by the Light Sides.”
Remus’ tiny face grew petulant.
“I don’t want to hear the rest of the story.”
“This isn’t a story.” Janus watched the rusty gears of the kid’s head turn, waiting for them to click into place. They didn’t.
“The hell are you talking about?” The humor of the moment was lost on Janus favor of weariness.
“The Light Sides. Patton and Logan… and your brother.”
“...The pâtissier?” It dawned on him. “The advisor?”
“And the Prince,” Janus finished, relieved. “Well… one of them.”
Remus let out a little breath- Janus thought it was a laugh, but soon he realized it had been a sob. The kid was crying.
For the first time since his first day with the Remus, Janus didn’t know what to do with him. Stiffly, he bundled Remus into his arms, his guilt flooding him once more as the child made no attempt to fight off the affection. He cursed Logan and Patton- not for the first time- in his mind. They’d never seen Remus as a person. How could they, and keep him away from his other half? They didn’t think of the result of their actions, of this grinning, dauntless child crying in Janus’ arms for the only time in their two years of being in close quarters. Six-year-olds cried, he knew this- but not Remus. Not for any reason other than juvenile rebelion, and never in a way that sought comfort. He’d never seen Remus sad. Never scared, or even seriously despondent. The kid had always been happy and impassioned.
Janus realized that he’d only made half of the right decision.
It was high time he fixed the rest.
He had to fix the rest- and Patton would help him. The caring side couldn’t turn against a crying child, no matter how intrinsically wrong he somehow thought said child was. Janus… he trusted the fatherly side more than any other. That wasn’t saying much, as a deep hatred for everyone causing Remus harm was creeping over him every second he spent cradling the trembling form.
Speaking of- how long had the kid been harboring these tears? How long had Remus been internalizing his loneliness? Every time Janus had put the kid to bed with no one to whisper to in the dark, every time he’d put off Remus’ needs for his own, every day he’d spent with Patton, shuttling the kid into the care of the fearful and seemingly disinterested Virgil. His own childhood had been spent in close quarters with five other children, all jostling for affection and friendship and entertainment and the fire extinguisher every time Patton tried to light a candle or bake cookies or Logan failed an experiment or a hundred other absurd cases.
Remus had none of that.
Remus had Janus and Virgil- one already exhausted from trying to corral an adult who acted like an angsty teenager and the other, well. An adult who asked like an angsty teenager. One who was too often absent and another who only left his room to eat. Two dysfunctional adults in a dark, damp, winding house. A loud kid in a quiet house.
Janus held Remus close. “Yknow what, Kid?”
The response took a little too long.
“...What?”
“Fuck the Light Sides.”
The child laughed, wiping his eyes, and Janus’ heart swelled uncharacteristically.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. We’re getting you to your brother.”
Remus was shocked. Janus had never seen this expression on the tiny sides face- he’d always been indetirible, a bundle of chaotic energy. The situation had brought so much more out of the round face.
Remus scrambled off of Janus’ lap- the older side had never been more relieved to get an knee to the stomach.
“Get away from me, oaf- lets go! Like, now go! Go now!” Remus’ words scrambled over each other. “Should I bring him something? Sugar? I like sugar- Jan, do you know if Roman likes sugar?” Janus didn’t have time to wonder if he’d told Remus his brother’s name before the kid was standing on the kitchen counter, opening the cabinets to find the hidden sweetener. He huffed as he stood to redirect the tiny fingers, but relief seeped into him- this version of the kid he could deal with. This he was used to.
Janus lifted Remus, setting him down on the floor.
“Not everyone eats plain sugar, Remus- and you’re still not allowed to, either,” He scolded.
“My brother does, I’m sure of it! He’ll be just like me, Jan. Lemmie get him sugar- please, Jan?” The older side smiled at Remus’ puppy eyes- not in compliance, but because he was used to them, too. They were easy to refuse, unlike tears.
“No. You’ve been off sugar for two weeks now, Remus, you are not relapsing and you are not dragging Roman down with you.” Remus was only put off for a few moments before he spun himself back into a whirlwind.
“But would he like sugar? Does he? I’m sure he does- right, Jan?”
“Sure. Just not straight from the bag.” Remus gave a contemplative nod. His caretaker was still on his toes, half expecting the kid to launch himself back onto the counter and run- but Remus had moved on.
“What about birds? I like chasing birds with sticks, but you and Virgil don’t like that- will Roman? He will, right? Whatever, we can just go ask him. Let’s go!” Remus tugged on Janus’ hand.
“Hold on, Remus. It takes a long time to hike all the way to him, and we aren’t supposed to be there at all. We need a plan, or at least some kind of forethought.” Damn kid had made Janus sympathetic- since when had he ever tried to reason with Remus? And since when had he waited for a reply?
“No. We’re leaving now.” And since when had the kid made demands of him? And since when had he been tempted to reply…
