Heads up: this chapter involves the discussion of potentially-triggering topics, so once again, please heed the tags.

XXX

It wasn't until later that Virgil, while sitting in his room, realized that Janus may have been telling the truth when he said they were overreacting, but that his comment would have counted as the truth as long as Janus believed it. Of course, he hoped that they really had been overreacting, but he just couldn't help his thoughts turning back to that horrifying idea he had earlier.

If it wasn't a big deal, though, why had there been blood on Janus's arm? Sure, it was only a speck, but the actual wound could be bigger and just a tiny bit started bleeding.

Virgil really wanted his idea to be wrong. He wanted to believe that nothing was wrong, that Janus was okay. But he knew that something was wrong, and pretending otherwise wasn't going to help anything. And maybe it really wasn't a big problem or maybe Janus could resolve it himself, but the pieces Virgil saw added up to a picture he didn't like.

But regardless of whether Virgil was right or not, Virgil knew that Janus wasn't going to ask them for help if he needed it.

XXX

Janus woke up slowly. He'd apparently fallen asleep after leaving the kitchen, and he groaned as he sat up. Of course he fell asleep. Not like he had anything to do other than sleep and mope around.

"Ugh, what time is it?"

After locating the clock, he saw it was 6:42 at night, which meant that he'd slept through the agreed-upon dinner time for the sides. Which, granted, he probably wouldn't have gone regardless (he didn't join the others for dinner very often at all), but he hoped that Virgil and Patton didn't take his non-appearance as evidence for him being in distress.

Rather than get up immediately, Janus stayed in his bed for a while, pretty much just sitting there and staring off into space as his mind lost itself in thought. Or, that's what he did until he heard a knock at his door.

His immediate assumption was that it was either Virgil or Patton coming to try to talk to him again, but the knock was way too loud, fast, and insistent to be either of them. He stood up and went closer to the door, not yet opening it.

"What do you want, Remus?"

"DeeDee!" Remus exclaimed through the door. "I gotta show you something!"

"... Is it something dead?"

"Yup!"

Janus sighed and unlocked the door. Remus barged in, dramatically tossing a dead something on his coffee table and making Janus cringe.

"... What is that?"

Remus shrugged as he flopped onto Janus's couch, which was in the same spot as Thomas's but was black with a yellow floral pattern on it.

"Fuck if I know," the man replied as he crossed his legs. "I found it in the dark part of the imagination and wanted to show it to you."

The thing on his table had five legs, feathers, and a trunk. Beyond that, Janus couldn't decipher anything else because it was all mangled and bloody.

"... Did you have to put it on my coffee table?"

Remus shrugged.

"Isn't it cool? I don't even remember making it," Remus told him. "... You don't think my brother made it, do you?"

Janus saw Remus start to bare his teeth slightly.

"... I doubt it wasn't your brother. You weren't probably just not paying attention," he told the other side.

"Hmm. Yeah, probably," Remus replied, moving so that he was leaning forward on the couch. "Anyway, I'm bored, DeeDee! Come play with me!"

"... Alright. But try to hold back a bit, hm?"

"Fiiiiiiine."

XXX

In the end, Virgil eventually decided to try to talk to Janus alone. He would probably still try not to answer him, but Virgil hoped he would be able to decipher the truth from whatever lies Janus told. And so, when it was late enough at night that everyone would likely be in their rooms but not so late that Janus would have gone to sleep, Virgil crept down the hall to Janus's room.

The walk wasn't long, but even still, Virgil's chest was tight with nervousness by the time he stood in front of Janus's door. Despite this, however, he raised his hand to knock anyway. He heard some shuffling from inside the room before the door swung open, revealing Janus standing there in the same clothes he had changed into after the flour incident, though they were a lot more ruffled now, as was the other side's hair.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Virgil?" Deceit questioned as he saw who was standing in his doorway.

Virgil took a deep breath in.

"Look, I know you said you didn't want to talk about whatever's bothering you, but I can't stop worrying about you, okay? So, can we please talk? I just need to make sure you're not in any danger," Virgil told him.

He watched Janus mull over his request for a while, and just as Virgil thought he was going to get the door slammed in his face, Janus's shoulders slumped with an annoyed sigh. Instead of replying verbally, the other man just turned to allow Virgil into the room and gestured for him to follow inside. As Virgil did so, he saw that the room wasn't very different from the last time he had been there. At a glance, it looked like there were just a few books in different places.

"So, what danger do you think I'm in exactly?" Janus asked. "I didn't mean what I said earlier about overreacting, Virgil."

Virgil stuck his hands in his pockets.

"I know you meant it, but…," Virgil started. "I guess I'm worried that you might have believed it, even if it wasn't true."

"Lying to myself, hm?" Janus mused as he went to sit on his couch. "So?"

Virgil followed him over to the couch, settling onto it just far away enough for it to not be any more awkward than it had to be.

"This… It's a bit of a difficult thing for me to ask…," Virgil told him. "And like, I really hope I'm wrong, but I just keep thinking about it, so-"

He cut himself off as he spotted something red in the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he realized that there were reddish droplets and smears decorating Janus's coffee table. It was mostly dried, turning brown and blending in with the dark surface of the table- but why was there blood on Janus's coffee table?

Virgil's heart felt as though it had stopped for a second before his heart rate suddenly soared as his idea seemed like even more of a possibility.

XXX

Janus saw Virgil cut himself off and freeze, and he tilted his head in confusion.

"Virgill?" he spoke questioningly, not really knowing what had made Virgil stop so suddenly.

Virgil was breathing deeper now, as if he was trying to hold off a panic attack.

Janus was about to repeat the other side's name again, but then Virgil spoke.

"Janus, why is there blood on your coffee table?!"

Oh. Janus looked, and sure enough, there was still some blood there. Remus took the dead thing with him when they left to 'play', and by the time they had returned, Janus had forgotten to clean up the blood still smeared on it. And now Virgil was staring at the blood in horror and panicking. Great. Just great.

"Virgil-"

"WHY IS THERE BLOOD, JANUS?!"

"Calm down, Virgil," Janus attempted. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not that. The sky is blue, and I swear it's not as big of a deal as you're thinking."

"YOU KEEP SAYING THAT!"

Virgil was breathing faster, frantically looking between Janus and the blood.

"Virgil, the blood is just from some creature that Remus killed. He wanted to show it to me; that's all," Janus explained, telling the truth in a voice he hoped made that clear. "He dragged me off before I could clean the table, and I forgot about it."

Virgil wasn't looking at him. He was just looking, staring, at the blood, and Janus mentally slapped himself for making Virgil panic over his crap.

He reached out a hand, firmly placing it on one of Virgil's shoulders to catch his attention.

"Virgil, I'm not hurt. No one's hurt. The sky is blue, and no one is hurt," he tried again. "It's just the blood of an imaginary creature. Not mine, and not one of the other sides. Okay?"

"You're telling the truth?" Virgil asked between gasps, his eyes getting wet in the corners.

"Yes, Virgil, I swear I'm telling the truth this time, okay? I said the sky is blue," Janus confirmed. "I'm not lying on this."

The other side tried to catch his breath, and he clenched his hands in the fabric of his hoodie. Janus wasn't sure what to do. Before, back before Virgil left, he would have known how to comfort him. He would have known if he needed to pull him close or give him space. He would have known what to say to help convince Virgil that everything was okay. But now, he wasn't sure anymore. Virgil was so different, and he was different too. And Virgil probably didn't even want his comfort, anyway- not anymore.

And so they stayed like that, with Janus mostly unsure of what to do and therefore doing nothing, until Virgil managed to calm down on his own. As his breaths finally decreased in their harshness, Virgil covered his face with his eyes.

"Ah, shit, this wasn't…," he tried. "I didn't come here to freak out on you. I came to see if you were okay, and I…"

Virgil removed his hands with a sigh.

"So, that really isn't your blood?"

Janus shook his head. Virgil ran a hand through his own hair.

"Okay. Okay…"

"... Virgil, why did you…" Janus asked, the question trailing off in a way that wasn't very much like himself.

"Look, Jan…," Virgil began. "I… like I said, I wanted to ask you a difficult question, and then I saw the blood…"

"Okay?"

Janus still didn't really get what Virgil was hinting at. Picking at his skin would never leave as much blood as was on the table, so he didn't think Virgil had figured out what he was doing and panicked over it.

Virgil took in another few long, deep breaths.

"Janus… are you…," he tried to ask, but stumbled over his words. "Are you… cutting yourself?"

Janus's eyes widened. He had not been expecting that to be Virgil's question. And now Virgil was looking at him with such a pained expression that it made Janus's heart ache for hurting the other side.

"I- no, Virgil, no," Janus responded, uncharacteristically stumbling just as much as Virgil did. "I swear to everything that the sky is blue, and that's not what's going on. It really isn't."

"Promise?"

Virgil's expression looked immediately relieved, though it was clear that he wasn't quite ready to accept that relief just yet.

"I do promise, Virgil," Janus spoke, continuing to tell the truth even though he could feel his lips trying to twist his words into lies. "It's not that bad, okay?"

The two of them spent a few more minutes trying to make sure the other was okay before it was decided that Virgil should leave for the night. They'd both had more than enough distressing conversation for now, and neither was equipped to deal with a potential argument at this point. And so, Virgil let the matter of Janus's problem drop for the time being, satisfied with the knowledge that he at least didn't have to worry about finding Janus bleeding out, and Janus just hoped that Virgil would forget about trying to figure out what his actual problem was.

XXX

Originally, this chapter was going to be really short, but I ended up including the last part in this one just in case the next chapter ends up getting too long (I don't want to leave it on a cliffhanger).

To be honest, I'm not really sure if skin picking counts as self harm or not? I've never really thought of it that way because, to me, they kinda fulfill different 'purposes,' but I guess some people count scratching and stuff like that as self harm? I don't know, I guess it fulfills the definition? I was always going to tag this fic with that just in case, but considering the conversation in this chapter, it definitely needs to be there.