(roman sanders hurt/comfort, cw for extreme self deprecation and janus dropping truth. features sympathetic janus!)
“My dearest little prince…what’s happened to you?”
Roman’s hollow eyes, darkened from sleep deprivation, were squeezed shut, tears spilling out the sides and down his cheeks. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Nobody was supposed to know. Not even Janus’ tender, lulling voice could pull him out of this panic.
“Baby, come here. Please. Let me help you. Let me hold you.”
Janus’ words were practically hypnotic to the tired, desperate young prince. Roman was so tired of being used, so tired of being an object. All he wanted was to be loved, just like everyone else, but it seemed that no matter what he did, no matter what positions he bent himself into, he could never change himself enough. He was still too Roman. Maybe his actions weren’t the problem, after all. Maybe Roman himself was to blame. Everything about him, after all, was wrong, no matter what he did and how he did it. Roman could feel his mind turn to fuzz, Janus’ words and form growing farther and farther away as he enveloped himself in a meager attempt at self-protection. After all, Roman had long learned that he couldn’t trust anybody else to protect him from anything.
This had to be a trap. It just had to be.
“When was the last time you ate?” Janus whispered, putting a hand on Roman’s shoulder. The prince flinched back, but Janus persisted, too anxious to be sensitive. “Baby, please. I’m worried about you. You’ve always been so fragile. And lately, it feels like you’ve just been floating away.”
“Yeah?” Roman whispered, his voice seething with hurt. “I wonder why.”
Janus blinked, and tilted his head, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean, darling?” he asked gently.
“Maybe I should float away,” Roman mumbled thickly as his tears started to suffocate him. “You all would like it so much better if I was gone. You play tricks on me to make me shut up or look stupid, you use me for your own agendas without even caring about mine, and then you betray me when all I ever wanted to do was help my friends! I wanted to be a prince, I wanted to be honorable and chivalrous, but- but what’s the point if it always ends with me alone? I’m the least favorite side, Janus. The least favorite. The least amount of fans like me, and the most amount of fans hate me.”
“That’s-…that’s not fair, Roman,” Janus whispered, but Roman interjected before Janus could continue.
“Maybe it is fair,” he snapped, “Someone has to be. Maybe it should be me. After all, I am the evil twin. No matter what I say or do, no matter how hard I try, people only care about the bad stuff I did, and none of the good stuff I’m doing. What’s the point of trying anymore? What’s the point of anything?”
Roman tried to keep ranting, but a whimper cut him off, and as he realized the weight of everything he was saying, he started to sob. He felt like he was being crushed under the weight of the situation. Never in his entire life had the little prince felt so helpless.
Janus took the opportunity to talk. He tried to hide his anger, not towards Roman, but towards everyone and everything that caused Roman to believe such terrible things were actually true. Himself included.
“My precious little one,” Janus murmured, carefully pulling Roman’s limp and trembling limbs into a hug. “You are not evil. Evil people don’t worry about whether or not they’re evil. Evil people don’t cry as you do now. You are so, so good, my darling. And I’m sorry that nobody has told you that. I’m sorry that you’ve felt so alone for so long. You try harder than anybody I know. You are so ready to learn and change that sometimes I worry that you’ll lose yourself one day and never find it again.”
“Would that really be such a bad thing?” Roman muttered to Janus’ chest.
“Of course it would!” Janus scolded gently, starting to rhythmically pet Roman’s curly hair and support his delicate form. “Roman, you are so special. You’re so…beautiful. I’ve never met anybody else who sees the world the way you do, with such wonder. With such color. You sing when no audience is around to applaud you. You speak to things that can’t speak back. You care so much about everything. You care more than anybody I’ve ever met.”
There was silence and stillness in the room for a very long time, not a sound except for occasional sniffling from Roman. And then, the creative side fully launched himself into Janus’ arms, letting his sorrow carry him as he melted into Janus’ secure, but gentle hold, sobbing into his shoulder and letting Janus support his weight, trusting him to keep him upright.
“My baby…my sweet baby,” Janus whispered, “You’ve been hurting for a long time, haven’t you?”
Roman couldn’t speak. He couldn’t act, he couldn’t ask for more than this. For so long, he had been trying to act more mature, so he could be taken more seriously. But it felt so good to just cry, and be a child again, even if just for a moment. Janus seemed to innately know that Roman needed this. Maybe Janus cared more than Roman thought.
Anyway, mayhaps an idea: Whumpee is very distrustful of everyone, even after being rescued. The only person who can come close to them without them getting very tense is Caretaker. The rest of the team is... well, unsure about Whumpee at this point. Someone says something that sounds a little too much like Whumper (accidental trigger), and Caretaker is the only one who can calm Whumpee down.
Do with that what ya will.
Have fun :D
hi!! thank you so much for the support, this is an amazing idea! i think i'm going to do my heroes and villains au for this one, it's a really good fit for this particular prompt, plus, father figure janus has my WHOLE HEART he's the best caretaker.
this fic features whumpee roman, caretaker janus, and mentions of whumper patton! also, logan and virgil are there but they aren't really anything they're just chillin'. logan is just trying his best.
also the beginning kinda just offers some general exposition to the au and the dynamics so it's just short little snippets of life before the big angst bomb comes raining down.
Every night, he saw the face of his uncle, the man who raised him, the man who taught him everything about the world. And he shivered, because while he never wanted to see Patton again, he also wanted nothing more than to be enveloped in his arms one more time.
When he looked in the mirror, Roman wanted to erase himself and start over from the beginning. Permanent scars that were never going away, endless reminders of what a failure he had been. His gauntlet was the only part of him that was pristine, and even that was so out of his reach.
Janus told him that it was Patton's fault that he didn't know how to use his powers, but Roman just couldn't believe it. He was a superhero. He had to know how to use his powers no matter what. Being a kid was no excuse. Being young and impressionable was no excuse. Being starved and beaten and tortured every time he made the smallest mistake was still not an excuse.
Roman was a hero. He had to be better.
--
"Virgil, come on, how many times do I have to remind you to wipe your feet before walking in?" Logan groaned, "We're guests in this house, we should not be dirtying it."
"Sorry, Pa," Virgil mumbled, "I'll clean it up."
"Thank you," Logan said, "And have half a mind not to do it again."
Roman, who was seated on the couch as this argument occurred, squeezed his eyes shut steeling himself as he waited for the slap. Or the hit. Or a cry of pain from Virgil. But seconds passed, and there was no sound except for the spray cleaner and scrubbing the floor. The mess took all of ten seconds to clean up, if that. Roman didn't understand. When he was under punishment with Patton and had to clean floors, it felt like it took much longer.
--
Roman's face was wet with tears, but he found himself feeling scarily numb as he sat in Janus' lap, fiddling with the gemstone necklaces held loosely around his neck with common kitchen twine.
"Ro...we really need to do something about these nightmares," Janus murmured, nothing but warmth in his voice and body. Roman almost felt safe in his arms. "It's not healthy for a kid your age to be waking up screaming every night."
"I'm sorry, sir," Roman said flatly, still trapped in a hellish haze, "I'll be better. I'll do anything you want, just spare me. Please."
Janus could feel his heart shatter in two. He hugged the teenager close, starting to pet his hair gently.
"Oh, baby..." Janus whispered, "What on Earth are we gonna do with you...?"
--
"If you hate me so much, maybe you should just put me back where I came from! You didn't have to adopt me, you could have just gotten a perfect kid instead!"
It was rare for Virgil to shout, so when Roman heard it, he was shaken immediately. Out of pure self preservation, he hid himself in the blanket he had been wearing. When Logan and Virgil argued, it was difficult, and it was messy. They were both headstrong people, which often led to butting heads more than either of them, or the two people they lived with, liked.
"Virgil, don't be ridiculous, I don't hate you!" Logan retaliated, "I just want you to stop closing yourself off, it's useless to try and handle everything in the world by yourself! You're just a child, when will you get that through your head??"
"Maybe I will once you stop micromanaging me like I'm five years old!" Virgil yelled, "I'm not a baby anymore, Pa, I don't need you hovering over my shoulder! Do you know how hard it is to be known as the tattletale at school?? Do you even care?? No, you don't, because all you care about is making yourself feel helpful!"
"I could strangle you right now!"
"Fine! Do it, see if I care!"
Virgil stormed off, slamming the door to his room, causing Roman to tremble where he sat. Oh, boy. Virgil was going to get it now. Roman waited for Logan to roar, to scream at Virgil to open the door before he regretted ever raising his voice at him. The thought made Roman so nervous. Virgil was injured already. He couldn't handle being strangled too. He just couldn't.
So Roman did the heroic thing: he stepped in.
Before Logan could take another step towards Virgil's room, Roman rushed in front of him.
"Virgil didn't mean it, Virgil didn't mean that!" he insisted, his words spilling over each other.
"Were you listening in to our conversation?" Logan sputtered, his face turning a bit red, "Wh- why would you do that? That was between me and Virgil, it has nothing to do with you!"
Logan side-stepped Roman, coming closer to Virgil's room. In a panic, Roman lunged at Logan, hoping to protect Virgil from any sort of wrath.
"Get off me!" Logan exclaimed, "Roman, what are you doing??"
"Stay away from him!" Roman begged as he punched and kicked blindly, thinking of nothing except weakening Logan, protecting Virgil. Weakening Logan, protecting Virgil. It was his responsibility. "He's still healing!"
Roman was much younger than Logan. But he wasn't that much weaker. He was a young hero, having trained his entire life to fight people, while Logan was just a civilian. No superpowers, no training. He was a bit fragile, in fact. So it wasn't a surprise that Roman was "winning" this exchange, but the child was too blinded by panic to realize this.
"Don't touch Virgil!" Roman begged, "Don't, please, he can't handle it! He can't handle that, he's good, he's good, he'll be good!"
"Janus!" Logan started to scream, thrashing to get away from Roman, "Janus, help me!"
And just then, Roman's entire world seemed to stop.
Logan's begging and crying for help sounded so much like his own. The way his words would bounce against the wall, hitting nobody as he was forced to endure hours of torture in solitary confinement, no sound to keep him company except for his own fruitless pleading. Logan already sounded so defeated. He sounded like he was ready to die. Just like Roman had been all those times before.
Roman's breathing grew shallow and stuttered, and the second he loosened his grip, Logan scrambled out of Roman's arms, shoving him hard. As Janus raced into the room, he saw his child hyperventilating, and Logan with a scratched up face and broken glasses.
"What- what on Earth happened here?" Janus demanded, "Logan, what did you do??"
"What did I do?" Logan repeated, "Why are you asking me that?? Roman's the one that attacked me, he tried to kill me!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry- I'm sorry-!" Roman whispered, starting to grip his own hair as he curled in on himself.
"He's a little monster!"
Roman's shallow breathing turned into desperate gasps as he wheezed irregularly, his chest rising and falling largely.
"There's ice in the freezer, I'm so sorry, Lo. I'm so sorry. I should have warned you- I'll pay for your glasses."
"No need," Logan said coldly, "I need some space, if you don't mind. I'm getting tired of being attacked from all sides."
Janus opened his mouth to say something to Logan as the angry man left, but he was distracted by the sound of Roman's fight for air. When Janus looked over, the child had tears streaming down his face, his eyes large and wild, as if he was a wounded animal.
"Darling...come here," Janus whispered sitting on the floor in front of Roman and starting to pull him close.
"No, please," Roman whispered, "Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- I- I-"
"Shh...shh, Roman, don't speak," Janus murmured, hugging Roman gently. "Breathe. I understand. I understand you. I do."
Janus saw so much of himself in those terrified brown eyes. Roman just wanted to protect somebody, and it had gone way too far. What was the poor kid to do? Of course, he had to apologize to Logan. But that would have to be at another time.
Roman shuddered, and before he could overthink anymore, he threw himself into Janus' arms, sobbing vehemently into his shoulder. Guilt washed over him like waves, and he almost wished that Patton was around to punish him. It was what he deserved for attacking somebody weaker than him. In that regard, was Roman really any different from Patton?
"I'm bad," Roman mumbled, "I'm bad, I'm a villain- I'm horrible-..."
"Shh," Janus repeated, rubbing gentle circles onto Roman's back, "Shh, darling. You're not bad. You're not a villain. You're a child. You're a child who's scared. Let yourself be scared. I'm here for you. I'm going to protect you, sweet thing. I promise."
"But what about Logan?" Roman asked, staring up at Janus with tear-stained cheeks and round eyes that broke Janus' heart.
"Logan will be okay, darling," Janus reassured, "He will be. I'm going to help him, and I'll take him to the doctor's, and I'll make sure he's doing okay. He'll understand. He will. He's got to."
"I don't know why I did that," Roman whimpered, "I don't know why I kept going, I could have stopped, he cried for help, I could have stopped!"
"I know, baby, I know," Janus soothed, "I know how it feels. I know. You made a mistake. You messed up. But you're not in trouble. You're not going to get hurt because you hurt someone else. What's the use of that? Then, everybody is hurt, and nobody is happy. Does that make sense?
"I- I- I guess so," Roman whispered, "But- Logan hates me. He hates me now, he hates me, he thinks I'm a monster-"
"He does not think that," Janus said calmly, "He was speaking while he was angry. Think about it. Do you say what you mean when you're angry? Does anybody?"
Roman shuddered. Patton did. But he didn't say so.
"It'll be okay, sweetie," Janus reassured, continuing to hold Roman as he rocked the teenager gently on the carpeted floor. "It's okay."
Summary: Janus couldn't keep going like this. He was going to tell Remus the truth, even if it meant losing the person who meant everything to him. It didn't matter. He couldn't keep lying to his best friend.
Janus didn't realize just how much this would crush him. He didn't realize being honest now meant everything might go back to how it used to be.
Notes: TW for past abuse, old/permanent injuries, Creativity Split, unsympathetic King Creativity (sympathetic twins and everyone else)
(Chapter 1)
Janus was tired of thinking about King.
It wasn’t fair. He’d been able to ignore it for years, to push it aside and let it fade to a bittersweet memory. He just wanted to move on like it never even happened in the first place.
It was… harder sometimes. Harder on days it was clear Remus was remembering, eyes hollow and full of pain, shoulders hunched as he lost himself in his own head. He’d usually end up disappearing into the Imagination until the early hours of the morning, brushing off all of Janus’s attempts to help.
It was harder on days when a flood of memories would make Janus’s injury act up, white hot pain spreading across his left leg and back, forcing Deceit to stay in his room for the day to keep anyone from seeing him lean a bit more heavily on his cane. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t even tell if the pain was all in his head or not.
It was especially hard on the rare occasions that he saw the Light Sides- saw Roman carefree and happy, blissfully unaware of the Creativity’s split, of the memories his brother still held onto.
And it was hardest whenever he saw Patton, Morality’s eyes always lingering on Deceit’s gloves wrapped around the top of his cane, silently searching Janus for any signs of fatigue or discomfort.
Janus avoided him as best he could for the most part, letting him have his little family- letting him have Virgil- because the least Janus could do was let Morality have the shred of happiness he’d found while forced to carry the weight of King Creativity’s fate on his shoulders.
Morality and Deceit were not friends, but Patton still kept his secret. He took the blame for splitting Creativity, keeping the past from Roman, and keeping Remus from finding out it had been Janus who caused the Split.
Janus had never felt bad about it before. It was only fair, Janus was already shunned by Thomas and the other sides, deemed nothing but a parasitic devil on Thomas’s shoulder, he didn’t need to be shunned by Remus too.
He didn’t need to lose his best friend over an old, desperate lie.
Patton had never given any indication that he minded taking the fall for it, even if it meant Remus resenting him from a distance, cold glares and scowls and bitter hatred from the dark side of Creativity.
Janus always ignored it. Patton had a family, he had Thomas, he could handle a little hostility from Intrusive Thoughts.
Besides, Janus was being punished enough.
He didn’t know when he’d fallen in love with Remus, but he knew that it was cruel and unfair and exactly what he deserved for what he’d done.
It hurt. It was a hollow aching pain in his chest whenever Remus would smile at him, when his eyes would linger just a second too long, but never long enough. It ached when Remus would touch his arm or nudge his side or rest his head on Janus’s shoulder and it was never enough.
It would never be enough. Janus knew he’d always be left wanting more, always stuck with that heavy longing in his chest.
And that was what he deserved. It was nothing compared to what Remus went through every day because of him, stuck as half of Creativity, empty and hurting and longing for a past Janus could never help him get back.
That was how it was. Patton was quietly resented, the Dark sides were left alone, and Janus resolutely ignored the consequences of his actions, because none of it mattered. They were all safe, and he had his best friend.
Splitting Creativity had been the right decision, but it wasn’t one he needed to face the consequences of. Not when a selfish part of him thought Patton might deserve Remus’s glares.
And then Janus had gotten accepted.
Well, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. He’d told them his name, he’d been to a handful of dinners, and appearing in Thomas' living room made him feel less like a punching bag and more… like a part of the conversation. Most of the time. It was still a work in progress.
Janus still preferred to be safely in his own living room with Remus at his side, listening to the Duke ramble about his latest string of nonsensical ideas, but spending time with the light sides wasn’t as horrible as he’d thought it would be.
Virgil was slowly warming up to him again, his defenses lowering, cold and untrusting glances turning to looks Janus might one day dare to describe as fond.
Logan was a bit more open about Janus’s importance as a part of Thomas, about how Deceit wasn’t always a bad thing, about how Janus really did have Thomas’s best interest in mind.
He and Roman were working past their differences, finding common ground and a way to coexist peacefully as the emotions of the wedding fiasco and Janus’s name reveal continued to slowly simmer down.
And then there was Patton. Janus… didn’t want to think about Patton.
Except of course, between King and Remus and now Morality, Janus’s brain didn’t really seem to give a damn what he wanted to think about.
Janus didn’t know what to make of Patton.
He’d thought he’d had Morality all figured out, self righteous and unbearably cheerful, casting out the sides that didn’t fit his picture perfect family, convinced he knew right from wrong when he didn’t know a thing.
And, well. That wasn’t entirely wrong.
Patton was unbearably cheerful, but Janus was beginning to see that happiness for the mask it was. Patton was hurting, shouldered with so much blame and responsibility, left to take it alone with a smile and a joke.
It was Deceit’s job to see through that, to pick up on the little white lies, to see when someone wasn’t okay.
It was Patton’s job to always know what Thomas should do, to know right from wrong, but he didn’t. He had no idea, even when everyone looked to him for all the answers, Morality just as lost and desperate for direction as everyone else.
And for the first time, Janus was watching him start to admit that. For the first time, he was looking to someone for help. He was looking to Janus.
And now, for the first time since revealing his name, Janus was beginning to regret ever trying to get Thomas to listen to him.
Things were good. Thomas wasn’t ignoring him, he was mending his relationship with Virgil, he was helping Patton, and he still had Remus right by his side.
It wasn’t fair that he was sick with guilt every day, losing sleep from buried memories and nightmares, his old injury constantly acting up, leaving him more reliant on his cane than he’d been in years.
Patton had so many things on his plate and thanks to Janus, the pressure of taking the blame for Creativity splitting was just one more.
For the first time since it had happened, Janus didn’t think that was fair.
Dammit. If hanging around Patton was going to make Janus start to feel things like guilt and remorse, maybe he should go back to being despised, hidden away in the darkness.
But he knew that even if he wanted that, it wouldn’t be an option. The Light Sides got attached ridiculously quickly.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Janus knew there was only one way to get rid of the guilt gnawing at his chest, the sleepless nights and relentless memories.
It would hurt Remus, and Janus would lose his best friend but… but Remus had the right to know. And Patton didn’t deserve to live like this, blamed for something horrible Janus had done.
He had to tell Remus the truth, no matter what happened after. For the first time since Creativity had been split into two, Janus was going to face the consequences.
He was going to tell Remus today.
Janus had been telling himself the same thing for a week straight but now… today he’d wandered into the Imagination in search of his friend, and he couldn’t just sit back and watch the Duke do this anymore.
He’d seen it before, the little Patton-dolls Remus conjured in the Imagination to kick around, burn, or beat when he was feeling particularly hollow and angry, jaw set and eyes narrowed as he stomped them into the ground, his mind whirring with memories only he and Janus could still grasp.
It wasn’t new, wasn’t anything he’d ever bothered to stop before, but right now the sight made Janus feel sick.
“You shouldn’t do that.”
“What?” Remus whirled around, startled, like he hadn't even known Janus was there. “Fuck off. Why?”
“Because you shouldn’t,” Janus said softly, unflinching against Remus’s frustration. “Come on, dinner’s ready.”
“No, why shouldn’t I?” Remus demanded. “It’s not like I can go to Roman. I can’t hit the real Morality. Why the fuck can’t I have this?”
Janus hesitated, the words he needed to say dying in his throat once again. “Because Patton hasn’t done anything.”
“I’m tired and I feel like shit,” Remus growled. “I feel like a cesspool- and not the cool kind. I’m empty and shitty and bad and it’s Patton’s fault. So I’m kicking Patton.”
“It isn’t Patton’s fault,” Janus said, his thoughts unwittingly going to the idea of Remus turning his fury onto him. It shouldn’t frighten him. He deserved it, after all. “Come on, Remus. Come to dinner.”
“He… technically, yes. He did. But it… that wasn’t his fault.”
Janus should shut his mouth. He should shut his mouth and ignore the nauseating guilt and go on letting Morality take the blame. Things were good, there was no need to jeopardize everything, no need to lose the person who meant the most to him.
But Remus didn’t deserve to be lied to anymore.
“Yes it is,” Remus snapped, his stubborn anger so much like King it nearly sent Janus reeling. “He split us.”
“Maybe it wasn’t that simple.”
“Yeah?” Remus challenged. “Then what happened? Since you know so much.”
And there it was, a perfect opening for Janus to say what he came here to say, to go against everything he stood for and be honest, to finally lay it all out and explain.
But suddenly he was painfully aware of where they were.
He’d sought Remus out in his side of the Imagination, where the dark side of Creativity had total control, where he could do anything and everything he wanted with very little restraints.
He knew Remus would never hurt him. He’d never been scared of the Duke before, no matter how gruesome or unpredictable his thoughts were. But Janus had his fair share of fights in the Imagination, and had seen first hand what a furious Creativity could conjure up for the sake of pain and fear alone.
Janus wasn’t sure how he felt about coming clean here, stuck in the middle of Remus’s realm with no way to defend himself.
Remus wouldn’t hurt him. He wouldn’t, he just…
Janus tightened his hold on his cane, a twinge of pain already running up his spine. “Maybe we shouldn’t discuss this here.”
“Why not?” Remus asked. “It’s just the Imagination.”
“You’re tense and exhausted and you should come sit down for dinner. We can discuss this calmly after you’ve eaten.”
“I’m not hungry. We can talk here.”
“You’re not feeling well—”
“I am. I’m fine —”
“I’m just trying to help you.”
“Don’t gaslight me,” Remus said, and Janus snapped his mouth shut. “We can talk here, Jan.”
“Fine,” Janus relented, only because he didn’t need to give Remus another reason to be angry with him. “Alright, we’ll talk here.”
“Good,” Remus said, still wound up and restless, the beaten up Patton-doll discarded at his boots. “Great. Awesome. What are we talking about?”
Janus took a steadying breath, gloved hands clutching his cane tighter. “Splitting Creativity.”
“Oh.” Remus crossed his arms over his chest, teeth tugging at his bottom lip. “That sucked.”
“I know,” Janus said. “We should… we need to have a conversation about it.”
“It hurt.”
“I know,” Janus said again, chest aching. “I know it did, but you shouldn’t resent Patton for what happened.”
“Patton won’t even tell me why,” Remus said. “He just did it because I was- I was wrong or whatever.”
“No he didn’t. That’s not it at all, Remus.”
“Patton doesn’t know shit about right and wrong, he just thinks he does.” Remus kicked his boot into the dirt, echoing Janus’s own words from years ago. “Self righteous prick.”
“Don’t say that,” Janus snapped, surprising himself with the ferocity, Remus’s eyes widening in surprise. Since when was he so protective over Morality? “It wasn’t Patton’s fault.”
“He fucking did it!”
Janus couldn't look at Remus, couldn’t risk seeing how he reacted to his next words. “It wasn’t his idea.”
“What?” It felt like Remus’s eyes were burning a hole into Janus’s skull, unmoving, and Janus turned to stare at the surrounding trees. “Of course it was.”
“No it wasn’t,” Janus said. “Don’t… please don’t blame Patton when he didn’t even want to do it in the first place.”
Remus hesitated, and Janus let the words sink in as the Duke started to pace. “Patton was the one who split Creativity.”
“He had to be convinced to do it.”
“Who fucking wanted it then?” Remus demanded, his steps growing quicker, hands flying to his hair. “It wasn’t King. King wanted to be whole!”
“I know,” Janus said, barely a whisper. “He kept telling me he wanted to stay as one.”
“Why did Patton do it then?”
“Because I—” The words froze in his throat, the weight of what he was about to confess wrapping around his chest and squeezing, panic rendering him silent for a terrifying moment as he watched his best friend pace the clearing. He pushed through it, forcing a tongue that felt like stone to move, finally letting the awful truth spill from his lips. “Because I asked him to.”
Janus couldn’t look up, but he heard Remus stop in his tracks. “What?”
“I asked Patton to do this,” Janus said, and having already said it once didn’t make the second time any easier. “I split Creativity.”
There was a moment of heavy silence, the air frozen around them, Janus scarcely daring to breathe. He could feel Remus’s eyes on him, could picture the betrayal and confusion on his face, squaring his shoulders and waiting for the worst.
“Why would you…” Remus started, then stopped again, speechless for once in his life. “No, that’s… no. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t.”
Janus wished more than anything he could take it back, brushing it off with a smirk as another one of his lies. Remus would go back to blaming Patton, taking out his anger on dolls and living with false memories.
It wouldn’t be fair, but Janus would keep his best friend.
But apparently Patton had been influencing him more than he’d like to admit. He couldn’t go back to living with that neverending guilt. He was Deceit, but he couldn’t keep lying to the person he loved.
“I’m sorry,” he said instead, quiet and unsteady. “I’m so sorry, Remus.”
“Why?” Remus demanded, and it was like a punch to the gut when his voice trembled. “You fucking- why?”
“I had to,” Janus insisted, leaning his weight on his good leg as the pain started to worsen from the flood of memories. “I had to, Remus.”
“King was fine!” Remus argued. “He was fine. I don’t- I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t,” Janus said. He felt sick. The guilt was supposed to go away when he told the truth. “But I… King wasn’t fine, he—”
“We were whole!” Remus exploded, and Janus forced himself not to take a step back. “We were whole and we were fine.”
“You weren’t. I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t the right thing to do! You weren’t fine, Remus!”
“Yes we were!” Remus screeched, and Janus finally risked a glance up at his friend when the Duke took a couple steps forward. “I was- I… I was fine! I had Roman and I was safe.”
“You’re still safe.”
“But I’m not whole,” Remus said, and Janus didn’t have a response to that. “I’m just- I’m empty and I don’t have my brother and I’m… we were whole. We were whole, Janus.”
“I know you’re upset with me.” Janus cringed at his own pathetic words. “I should have told you sooner.”
“Why would you… I don’t understand.”
“It’s…” Janus hesitated, swallowing, suddenly unsure he could bring himself to say this out loud. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Try.”
And, well. That was the least he could do. “King wasn’t… I don’t… I don’t know how much you remember.”
“I remember King.”
The pain in Janus’s leg flared up, and he quickly bit back a hiss of discomfort. “You don’t remember all of it.”
“I want to,” Remus said, and Janus ignored the panic that started to rise at the thought. “I want to go back.”
“No you don’t,” Janus cut in before Remus even finished. “You wouldn’t want to go back if you remembered.”
“I want to be whole.” He sounded so broken, horribly desperate, and Janus’s guilt only grew more suffocating. “I can’t fix this feeling but bringing King back would.”
“No it wouldn’t, Remus,” Janus said, and it’s a stupid selfish lie. Because it would. Remus would be whole again, and the emptiness that plagued him would be filled. Janus wished more than anything that he could give Remus what he wanted. “Everything would be back to how it used to be and that can’t happen.”
“Yeah,” Remus agreed. “It would be good again.”
For a moment Janus’s fear overpowered the guilt, a cold sinking feeling in his gut at the thought of King returning.
The thought of King returning, knowing what Janus had done to him.
“It wouldn’t,” he tried, only able to silently hope Remus would still listen to him. “I wouldn’t have split you and Roman if it wasn’t for the best.”
“I don’t… I can’t understand why you would do that.”
Janus could have just been blunt, just explained. He had the evidence to back up his story, clutched right there in his shaky hands, the lingering pain that had never really faded since the night he’d gone to Patton, terrified out of his mind and begging him for help, begging him to split King.
But he couldn’t, this truth somehow infinitely harder to admit. Maybe because there was no possible way to predict Remus’s reaction this time.
“King wasn’t healthy,” Janus said slowly. “He wasn’t good for himself or for Thomas. Or anyone else.”
“We could have fixed it!”
“No we couldn’t have.”
Remus scoffed, crossing his arms again. “You could have tried.”
“I did try!” Janus hissed, fighting to compose himself. He didn’t have the right to be angry or upset or hurt. He did this to himself. “I did. I didn’t- I didn’t just split you without a second thought!”
“Then why did you do it?”
“I had to! ” God, he was pathetic. He promised himself he’d be honest, that he’d finally tell Remus the truth he deserved to hear, and now he couldn’t even get the words out. “King was dangerous, Remus. Thomas is better like this. Back then it was just—”
“Well I fucking want it back!” Remus didn’t yell often. He was loud and impulsive and erratic, but he didn’t get angry, especially not at Janus.
Remus had always resembled King more than his brother ever did, but right now he looked so much like the former side of Creativity Janus thought he might be sick.
“Remus—”
“It hurts.” Remus’s chest was heaving, eyes blazing with unrestrained fury, and Janus tensed, waiting with bated breath. “It hurts every fucking day.”
“I know,” Janus whispered, trying not to cringe when Remus’s eyes found his own. “I know and I’m… so sorry. But we can’t go back.”
“I…” Remus’s shoulders sagged, arms dropping to his side. “Fuck, Janus. Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t Patton’s fault?”
“Because I knew you’d be angry,” Janus admitted. There was no point in lying about that. “And I’m selfish.”
Remus huffed a laugh, void of any humor, and Janus dropped his gaze back to the ground when the Duke’s face twisted back into a look of pained frustration, the fire in his eyes still burning bright.
Janus’s breath caught in his throat when Remus’s attention turned to the discarded Patton-doll on the ground, his boot slamming into his lifeless head, over and over again until it was a mangled heap in the dirt, coming apart at the seams.
Janus wanted to look away, a new wave of memories turning the pain in his leg to a throbbing agony, his cane wobbling slightly as his grip became frantic, but his eyes were glued to Remus’s rage.
At least he didn’t seem inclined to turn his violent fit onto Janus, though he easily could. He so easily could Janus wouldn’t even be able to try to get away, let alone fight back.
Remus won’t hurt him. No matter how angry he was, Remus would never hurt Janus. He never had, and he never would. Remus wasn’t King.
“You both lied,” Remus muttered, and it took Janus a moment to realize he’d stopped the beating. “Does Roman even know about King?”
Janus froze.
“I… don’t believe so.” Roman didn’t know, and he never could. He couldn’t know about King, not when it would give the twins an opportunity to bring him back.
“We have to tell him,” Remus said, like there was no room for argument. “He needs to know.”
The fear in Janus’s chest was like ice, his tongue heavy in his mouth. “Maybe that’s… not a good idea.”
“Roman was King too,” Remus pointed out. “He deserves to know.”
“I know,” Janus said. “I understand, but… maybe it’s best if we don’t tell him.”
“It’s not fair to keep lying to him.”
“It’s not,” Janus agreed, and now somehow the guilt was worse. He shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. “But it may be the safest option.”
“He has to know.”
“Maybe we should think about this,” Janus tried, and he doubted he could hide the desperation in his tone even if he wanted to. “You’re upset right now, and—”
“Roman has to know, Janus!”
Janus deflated, standing there helpless and weak as Remus rose to his full height, eyes hard with unwavering determination. He nodded, eyes on the ground. “You can tell Roman. But we can’t bring King back.”
“It’s not up to you! It’s me and Roman, we—”
“I know you’re upset and confused,” Janus said gently, wincing when Remus snarled at him. “And angry. But we’ll… we’ll figure this out okay?”
Remus didn’t grace that with a response, just narrowed his eyes and turned on his heel. “I’m going to find Roman.”
“Remus—”
He reached for Remus’s arm before he could move away, a last-ditch effort to get the Duke to stay, silently begging him to just take a moment and wait.
Janus’s glove barely brushed Remus’s sleeve before his friend jerked away like he’d been burnt, turning on Deceit with a glare so cold it reminded Janus of the Light Sides the first time he’d shown himself to Thomas.
Remus had never looked at him with so much disdain. It felt like Janus’s whole world was crashing down.
Remus didn’t bother to stick around after that, turning around without another word and storming off into the depths of the Imagination, leaving Janus completely alone.
I had to- I'm aslo tinkering with my lil doodle style with my blushy Logan in the last page. I might add another lil addition later for more Logince fluff because I need more of that in my life 🥺
Credit to: @callmejem-ily @did-he-just-hiss-at-me and @cha0t1cev1l for their beautiful input in the angst chat and allowing me to turn it into fluff lmao
