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This chapter takes place before 'Janus and YarnCrafts' began. So, it's like a prequel, I guess?

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It was the middle of the night, and he was wide awake. Tired, exhausted even, but still wide awake. Turning his head, his eyes found the digital clock on his nightstand:

4:23 AM.

Great.

Wonderful.

Janus rolled around, trying to see if changing to a more comfortable position would help. Side. Front. Back. Side. Back. None of it felt right. He didn't feel right, but he knew he wasn't sick. But he didn't know what the problem actually was. He wasn't cold, wasn't hungry, didn't need to use the bathroom, wasn't hurt, and his thoughts weren't even particularly negative or anything (or at least, not about anything other than his frustration with not being able to sleep and the way he felt currently). His bed was soft and usually comfortable, too. It wasn't like he was sleeping on a rock or something. Nothing should be keeping him up.

And yet, everything felt wrong, and he was wide awake.

He felt twisted in his skin, as if he needed to get back into place but he just couldn't quite manage it. He kicked his legs, hitting his heels against the mattress, hard but not painful since the surface was soft. That didn't exactly do anything, but it helped him get rid of some of his frustration, at least. But it wasn't enough, and he still just felt uncomfortable.

Frowning, Janus curled into himself a bit, holding his upper arms in his own hands. That was a little better. But still not right.

It was then that Janus realized he was practically hugging himself, and that's when he got slammed by the realization that that was exactly the issue.

Loathe as he was to admit it (even to himself apparently, since it had taken himself this long to figure it out), Janus desperately wanted someone to hug him right then. And not just a quick one- he wanted to be able to cling to someone and just stay that way for a while and go to sleep. Not even anyone in particular- just someone. Thinking about it now, it had been forever since anyone even casually brushed against him. Virgil had been gone for a while now, and he hadn't come into physical contact with the Light Sides in years. And sometimes Remus would grab him and drag him off to look at something, but that was usually only his hand or his arm, and through his clothes, and Remus hadn't actually done that lately. He'd been working on something big and didn't have time to excitedly show it off quite yet, not until it was done. And sure, he'd probably want Janus to look at it as soon as it was finished, but Janus hadn't wanted to interfere while he was working, so he'd barely even seen Remus lately.

He didn't think he'd gotten real physical contact in a long time. When was the last time? When Remus got over-excited about something and pulled him into a surprise embrace? It couldn't have been as long as before Virgil left, right? No, he was sure Remus would have done something since then beside hand-holding. But regardless of how long it had been, it had apparently been too long, because now Janus felt like his skin was crawling with a wrongness that he didn't think he could fix on his own.

Of course, there wasn't really anyone to help him, either. None of the Light Sides would even consider it, except maybe Patton if he thought it was 'the right thing to do', but even if Patton offered, it would be incredibly awkward and uncomfortable and might not even help. He didn't trust any of them enough to be comfortable with them touching him. Plus, there was the matter of his pride- he wasn't going to let any of those Light Sides watch him pathetically beg for a hug like a child. Virgil was also out, for both of those reasons, as well as the fact that Virgil might actually try to murder him if he asked. Any hugs or cuddles he and Virgil may have once shared were a thing of the past, now, and they were unlikely to ever happen again.

Perhaps it was about time he stopped thinking of Virgil as being separate from the Light Sides. He was one of them now (certainly no longer a Dark Side, no).

Shaking his head, he decided that was enough of thinking about Virgil. His thoughts hadn't been particularly negative before, but they were certainly going to go down that path if he kept thinking about his former friend.

Of course, Thomas was out. Their host was borderline afraid of him (or maybe, not even quite so borderline. Just afraid). And the two of them had only just officially met, even if Janus had known Thomas all along. Just imagine it- Janus popping up in the real world, waking Thomas up to ask him to cuddle. The man would probably think he was dreaming and just roll over to go back to sleep (or worse, scream- and he wasn't sure if fear or anger would be worse on that one). No, that would absolutely not work.

And that just left Remus. Which might not be a terrible idea, at least not normally. Of course, his pride was still in the way, but he was nearing the point where he might not care quite so much. Pride didn't matter much to the other man, so he probably wouldn't mock him too much. Maybe. (Hopefully).

Right now, he'd even say he wouldn't particularly care if Remus happened to be covered in some strange sort of filth (so long as it was one of his typical kinds of filth and not something that left him visibly covered in something).

But even if he was willing to forgo his usual pride and standards of cleanliness…

He knew he still couldn't.

To begin with, Remus was busy, and he couldn't interrupt that. This was something that had a good chance of actually being used by Thomas, and he didn't want to accidentally ruin that for Remus. And besides that…

He looked around his room.

He was not letting Remus see his room.

And that meant he was still on his own with this (which, ironically, was also the problem).

But. It was fine.

Sighing, Janus stood up, crossing the room to grab one of his larger stuffed animals, a plus-sized llama, as well as a floppy-armed cat. Then, he returned to his bed and rolled himself up tightly in the covers, using his thickest, heaviest blanket. With that done, he curled around the llama, positioning it next to him on the bed, and grabbed onto one of the little yarn paws of the cat. He rubbed its paw between his fingers (ungloved for sleeping) and buried his face into the llama's soft back.

Okay.

This was much better.

Still not great, but it was enough.

And as Janus finally drifted off to sleep, he just about convinced himself of that.

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