XXX Chapter 20: The Sickness

"Is Deceit doing alright?" Patton asked as Remus entered the kitchen.

The fatherly side was scooping rice into a serving bowl while Logan carefully set out silverware beside each plate. They'd put out six place settings, just in case Deceit wanted to join them, even though none of them really expected that he would.

He sighed.

"Not really, but what else can ya expect?" Remus answered. "I can't tell if he's more angry or sad or tired, though."

"He's not going to join us, is he?"

"Nope."

Patton sighed. Getting Deceit to eat with them had been a long-shot from the start, but he'd hoped anyway. Based on little comments Virgil had dropped over the past few years, Patton didn't get the sense that the Dark Sides really did family dinners around a table like they did. Remus's lack of timekeeping combined with Virgil's insomnia-induced irregular sleeping patterns likely made eating at the same time difficult. Despite all of that, though, Patton thought it might do Deceit some good to have dinner with them. Having dinner as a family provided a consistent schedule to spend time with each other and check in. In Deceit's case, it would also let them make sure he was taking care of himself an eating.

Consistency and companionship would be helpful for Deceit right now. Everything likely seemed to be jumbled up and confusing at the moment, and getting everything ironed out would let them tackle Deceit's issues from a solid foundation.

But maybe that could wait a little longer. To them, the situation had been ongoing for a long time, but for Deceit, it hadn't. To him, it likely seemed as though months had passed in a moment, and the man was still in the midst of a crisis. The first priority had to be safety, and then they could sort out the rest a little more slowly, give Deceit time to process and adjust and sort through everything. It was important that they give Deceit the support he needed, but pushing him to eat with them wasn't the priority, even if it might help a bit.

And so, once everything was ready, Patton scooped a bit of everything on the sixth plate and announced that he would be bringing it to Deceit's room. The distance from the kitchen to the new location of Deceit's room wasn't long, but Patton found himself walking slowly.

They made baked chicken in a sauce with rice and green beans. Remus said that Deceit liked rice, the green beans had some vitamins, and the chicken would provide some protein. Hopefully, Deceit would eat it. If not… Well, they would deal with that if they had to.

Patton paused at the door to knock lightly on the frame before he entered the room, not wanting to catch Deceit off-guard. He received no response, but since he assumed that Deceit wouldn't reply, he came in anyway.

"Deceit?" he said, turning to look toward the man.

Virgil said he'd helped Deceit move his bed earlier, and sure enough, the furniture was in a different position. Deceit was laying in the bed, and at first, Patton thought he was just laying down, seeing as he was still fully clothed, but he quickly realized that the other man had fallen asleep. He was breathing softly, curled up on his side with his arms folded in front of his chest.

Right then, he looked peaceful, and secretly, Patton was glad that he was laying on his side rather than his back. They had to move Deceit sometimes while he was unconscious, but the positions always looked stiff, and he was still on his back most of the time. Like this, he looked asleep, not dead, and for now, seeing Deceit looking alive was still a novelty.

Turning away, Patton set the plate of food onto the desk, reasonably sure that Deceit would notice it when he awoke, and left the man to sleep.

XXX

Dinner had been finished for quite a while, but even though Virgil wanted to retreat to his bedroom, he found himself sitting on the living room couch with the others. Ever since all of this started, it had become just a bit harder for all of them, himself included, to be alone. Not that they weren't ever alone anymore, but there was a whole lot more loitering around than there used to be.

At the moment, Logan was typing something on his laptop while Patton looked over his shoulder. Roman was pacing, occasionally taking a step toward the hallway before abandoning the action. Remus, meanwhile, was pouting because Janus was apparently angry at him for agreeing to move their rooms. Virgil himself was debating whether he should take out his headphones or wait for someone to say something, because he was pretty sure that everyone was hanging out in the living room so they could talk.

Janus hadn't joined them for dinner, and it was unlikely that he would leave his room at all that night. Patton had told them that he'd fallen asleep, and even if Janus woke up, he was probably still too pissed to interact with them.

This entire situation was making Virgil wary. Of course, he was worried about the situation itself and about Janus, but he was also worried about what was going to happen. Virgil wasn't naive. Janus had a temper, even if he tried to control it, and he knew it would keep popping up. The thing was, though, that Virgil also had a bit of a temper, and even though it was burnt down to cinders and ash now, it would inevitably rekindle into a fire once again. Virgil and Janus hadn't gotten along in years now, and there was only so far Virgil's empathy could keep him from getting angry at the other man. He knew they would fight, really fight, eventually. It was only a matter of when, not if.

But what did knowing that do? Sure, the fighting could be delayed more if they hadn't brought Janus's room over, but Janus did need their help, and helping him would be harder if he remained on the Dark Side. They couldn't just not help him because there would be some fighting. But would the fighting make everything worse? Virgil also knew that Janus was unlikely to cooperate with pretty much anything they tried to do to help him, and that would be the most likely culprit for starting the first big screaming match. Virgil didn't know how to approach this without making it worse- none of them did.

The fact was, if they were actual people and not sides, Janus would most likely be hospitalized (or dead, permanently). At the very least, he would get help from professionals. Thomas wasn't a professional, so neither were they. But they couldn't really do much about that; all they could do was try not to screw up too much and hope it would help.

"Do you think we should go check on him?" Roman asked suddenly, stopping in place.

Patton looked up from Logan's computer.

"I don't know, Kiddo; he's probably still asleep," he said.

"But he might not be."

"He's been pretty tired since waking up," Remus chimed in sullenly. "So I'd bet on him staying asleep for at least a few more hours."

Virgil fiddled with his sleeve for a moment before adding in his own comment:

"He's also kinda pissed already, so it's probably a bad idea to wake him up."

"I didn't say we should wake him up," Roman protested. "Just check on him. You know. Quietly."

"You? Quiet?"

Virgil's attempt at a joke was weak at best, but it was the most he had.

"For now, we should let him sleep and check on him in a few hours," Logan suggested. "We should be able to see or hear if he gets up."

"Fine," Roman sighed. "I'm going to head back to my room to work on… stuff, then."

Despite Roman's actual reason for returning to his room, no one said anything as he left.

XXX

Janus stared down at the almost-full plate of food in front of him. He'd woken up a while ago and found the plate of food Patton had left him. By the lack of noise coming from outside the room, he figured it was likely late by now.

When he saw the food, his stomach growled, and he knew he should eat it. He wanted to eat it, and he did start eating it. The food had grown cold, but he had actually started to prefer cold food anyway. Something about it just made it easier. And so, he began eating, starting with the green beans. He ate them individually, so it was slow, but he didn't really have any trouble finishing them. The chicken was on top of the rice, and as he looked at it, he felt the nausea start to return. It was covered in some kind of sauce, all in one big chunk. He didn't really feel like cutting it up and choking it down (imagining it to have a dry texture despite not having tasted any of it). Instead he turned his attention to the rice, scooping a little up with the spoon Patton had left for him.

The first few bites went well enough, but with each bite, the nausea grew stronger. The rice was plain, but some of the sauce from the chicken had transferred onto it, and the flavor was just too strong, too savory. It tasted good, and in the past, he would have enjoyed it (probably would have enjoyed the chicken too), but he simultaneously found himself disgusted. It felt like trying to eat when he had the flu, and he hated it.

Before he'd finished even half the rice, he had to stop. His stomach was protesting, roiling with discomfort, and Janus tried not to think about it. Nausea always got worse when he thought about it, but trying not to think about it just made him think about it more. He stood up, thinking it might help to move, but that quickly proved to be a mistake as he felt his stomach cramp. Then, he tried to do the opposite and stay as still as possible.

Regardless of his efforts, though, Janus quickly felt a sour feeling start to build up at the back of his throat, saliva pooling onto his tongue.

Then, he was rushing out of his bedroom and into the bathroom, leaning over the toilet bowl as he heaved. Stinging bile mixed with chewed bits of food forced their way out of his stomach, dropping into the bowl with a wet plop. Distantly, he heard someone speaking, but he didn't know who it was, and he ignored it as his stomach tensed again. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes as he continued to dry heave a few more times before he was finally able to sit back and breathe.

It took him another minute to realize it, but Roman was kneeling on the floor beside him, only about two feet away.

Janus jumped, not having expected anyone so close. Roman's eyebrows pinched inwards.

"Hey, uh, are you okay?" the other man asked.

Janus didn't know how to answer. His insides were still twisting, and he didn't know why. He'd been nauseous around food for quite a while now, but he hadn't actually thrown up because of it before. Sure, he'd come close, but being careful of what he ate and how often had prevented it from actually happening until now. This wasn't something he was used to. Even before all of this had started, Janus hadn't thrown up in a long time.

He found the reminder of how it felt to be distinctly unpleasant.

"Dee?"

As he heard another voice, Remus's voice, Janus realized that Roman wasn't alone. His eyes flickered to focus on the open doorway behind him and found that both Remus and Logan were there as well.

He could feel the human half of his face growing hot. Great. Just great. He'd had an audience for this little adventure, an audience that was surely going to use this as another reason they had to control what he did.

"Hey, you there, Snakes and Ladders?"

Janus blinked and nodded, not meeting anyone's gaze.

"Here."

As he spoke, Roman held out a damp washcloth. To his dismay, he realized it was to clean up the small amount of vomit that had dripped down his chin. With shaky hands, he wiped his face, and then he held the ruined cloth awkwardly in his hands, not knowing what he was supposed to do with it.

With a flick of his wrist, Roman made the cloth disappear. Then, with a hesitance far more gentle than Janus would have expected, he offered Janus his hand. Dimly, he realized it was an offer to help him stand, but he just stared at it for a while.

He thought Roman would rescind the offer, but he didn't. He just kept offering his hand until Janus eventually took it. Roman turned his head to look back at the others in the doorway.

"… Perhaps we should go to the kitchen and have some tea," said Logan.

And then Roman was pulling him to his feet and guiding him down the hall, with Remus shooting him concerned glances from his other side and Logan being almost eerily silent. Janus, too, remained silent. His mind wasn't quite in that hazy state he often found himself in, but he didn't feel quite normal, either. He still felt the remnants of his nausea, and the suddenness combined with the others' presence left him feeling even more vulnerable, making it hard for him to form the sharp words he wanted to say on his tongue.

He hated this. He hated everything about this, hated every second he spent in this misery. How long was this going to continue? He hadn't felt normal in so long, hadn't even been able to feel calm in so long. He hadn't experienced any relief from this since-

Since he died.

That thought made his steps fumble for just a second. Now that he thought about it, he technically had felt relief rather recently. When he was dead and being reformed.

The realization left him with a strange pounding in his chest, the meaning of which he couldn't quite identify, so he shoved it away. He wasn't going to think about that. He hadn't died on purpose and he wasn't going to. He wasn't.

They were in the kitchen in less than a minute, and Janus was sitting at the kitchen table while Logan put the tea kettle on the stove. The twins were both staring at him, so he pillowed his head in his arms on the table, hiding his face from view.

He was such a mess, and now they all had to witness it.

"Deceit?"

Logan's voice made him look up some unknown time later. A steaming mug sat in front of him, and when the logical side nodded toward it, Janus picked it up without argument. Liquids were completely fine, and a hot beverage would hopefully help soothe his throat and wash away the disgusting taste of bile.

The three of them waited until Janus took a sip before they said anything.

"You didn't throw up on purpose, did you?" Roman asked tactlessly.

"No," Janus insisted, shooting him a much-too-weak glare.

"Then what happened?" Remus questioned.

"I don't-I…," he stumbled. "I was just trying to eat, and I got sick."

He saw Logan's eyes narrow in consideration.

"Did you have trouble eating before you fell?"

Janus grimaced but didn't answer.

"I'll assume that means 'yes'," concluded the logical side. "Did you vomit often before?"

Before. Before, before, before. Would his life always be split between before and after now? Before and after what? Before and after he fell? Before and after he became like this? Before and after he revealed himself? Before and after Virgil left? Before and after the Mindscape split in two? He felt like a series of photographs, each one capturing an instant in a discontinuous series of events, with gaps jumping between the different versions of himself, each one more unrecognizable than the last.

"No."

"Were you nauseous often?"

"… Yes."

"How much were you eating?"

Again, Janus fell silent. Unfortunately, Remus took the opportunity to speak up.

"I don't think he ate when he was locked in his room, and I didn't see him eating too much after," Remus explained. "I mean, we didn't really eat together anyway, but you know."

After. There it was again, that before and after. Before and after he left his room. Before and after he stopped locking himself away and starving himself because he just couldn't manage to get up and leave his room. Before and after.

"Hm," Logan hummed before thinking for a long moment.

He took his time to consider things, going over the bits of information he knew, and eventually, he nodded just the slightest bit.

"I have a few theories," he announced softly. "First, it's possible that this is a side effect of dying, and hopefully, it will fade soon. I am unaware if anything like this has happened with you, Remus, but there have already been differences in yours and Deceit's experiences. That being said, though, if Deceit was already experiencing these symptoms before, it's unlikely."

"I didn't have any problems with eating after I came back," Remus clarified.

"Ah. Well, there's also the possibility of physical illness, but the reformation process should have fixed anything like that, so that likely isn't the case, either."

Janus tightened his grip on the mug.

"My best guess is that your body has grown unaccustomed to eating after being in your room so long," Logan concluded.

"I did eat after I left my room, you know."

Janus didn't get into detail about how many meals he skipped, or that most of the meals he did eat were as bland as possible. Perhaps Logan's final hypothesis wasn't completely off-base.

"Yes, but while you were unconscious, we were really only able to feed you liquids," Logan pointed out. "So there's a good chance that your body isn't used to eating solid food at all anymore."

Janus also conveniently chose not to mention that his nausea was induced by his anxiety. After all, it made sense that he might not be used to eating solid food, and that was a physical cause for being ill. It sucked, but he could control a physical illness much easier than the clusterfuck of his mind. Surely, there was something he could do about being physically ill, and he didn't even really need the others to get involved with it (And even if he was ignoring that multiple problems could be at play, some of which still weren't physical, that was fine because he could assign the blame to a solvable issue).

"For now, you should probably start with more liquid-based foods like soup and work your way back to solids," Logan continued. "We can figure that out in the morning."

Silently, Janus resented the 'we'. Then, the second part registered, and he glanced at the clock. 2:04. It must be 2 am, the middle of the night. Alright, at least he got an indicator for the time it was out of all this.

"Do you want us to stay, or should we go?" Logan asked, gesturing to only himself and Roman.

"I'm fine," he answered, indicating that he very much did want them to leave.

With a nod, the two of them stood and went to leave. He was pretty sure Roman wanted to say something, but he didn't, and Janus wasn't going to bother asking. They waited in silence until the sounds of two doors closing reached their ears. Then, Remus spoke again:

"Are you feeling any better, Jan?" he asked. "Or do you still feel sick?"

Janus noted that, before, Remus would have definitely added some disgusting comment onto the end of that, but now, he hadn't. How different were things going to be in this after?

"I already said I'm fine, Remus," Janus dodged.

The nausea had faded, now, but the anxiety that caused it was eating at him, especially now that he wasn't particularly angry at the moment.

"It's okay if you're not."

"I'm not going to throw up again," Janus insisted.

"Are you hungry? Do you want to try to drink some broth or something?"

"No," he rejected the offer. "I'm afraid my appetite has gone."

Again, it was another partial-lie. On the one hand, he hadn't had a real appetite in forever, but he most certainly did still feel hungry, seeing as he had emptied his stomach. He wasn't going to risk eating again so soon, though. Perhaps he could in the morning, as Logan had suggested, but right then, trying was just too much to deal with.

"Okay," Remus accepted. "Are you still tired?"

Janus chuckled, too loud for the time of night it was.

"I can't remember the last time I wasn't."

Remus frowned.

Janus returned to pillowing his head on the table.

"God, I hate this," he mumbled, though he wasn't sure if it was to himself or Remus.

"I know."

"I just- I can't do anything normally anymore, can I?"

His voice was shaking, and tears were building up in his eyes again, but for now, his cheeks remained dry.

"That's why you need help, Janny," Remus told him, voice soft. "I know you feel like shit, but you'll get better."

"Will I?"

"Yes."

He laughed again.

"I'm just so tired, Rem," he admitted. "I've barely even come back, and I'm already so tired."

"It's okay to be tired," Remus reassured. "Some of that's probably left over from getting fixed up, ya know? And if ya need to sleep more, then sleep."

Janus didn't correct him. He meant that he was tired of feeling this way, but he was physically tired as well, so it didn't matter whether Remus understood the true meaning of his words.

"I think I'm going to go back to bed," he sighed.

"Okay," Remus nodded. "I'm gonna be up for… I dunno, a while, so you can knock on my door if you need me for anything, okay?"

Janus nodded, even though he had absolutely zero intention of knocking on Remus's door.

XXX