XXX Chapter 21: The Walls

Perhaps he shouldn't be relieved, but Logan was, in fact, rather relieved that there was a more tangible problem for them to work on, especially one that Deceit didn't seem to be actively fighting them about. Deceit's trouble with eating could be easily solved with the proper approach (or, at least, what he believed to be the proper approach): start with nutritious liquids and slowly introduce more solids until Deceit could eat normally again. They could follow a set of steps to reach the desired outcome, and it should go relatively smoothly. It was so much more difficult to begin detangling the mental health issues, and Logan wasn't sure if he would even be helpful with those. But he could be helpful with this. He'd even written up a tentative schedule for Deceit to follow.

The man was looking over that schedule now, and even though Logan wasn't exactly accustomed to the man's body language, he got the distinct sense that Deceit was somehow unhappy about it.

"Is there something wrong with the schedule, Deceit?" Logan asked. "It's only tentative, so if you believe I should change something, you can tell me."

Deceit worked his jaw for a moment before answering.

"It's a bit… strict, isn't it?"

The deceptive side looked away as he spoke the words, his grip on the paper tightening.

"Ah," Logan said, understanding the issue. "The foods I listed in each section are only suggestions. You could also eat things similar to what I've written down. For example, I believe that applesauce should be a suitable alternative for a smoothie. I just believe it is easier to add more nutrients to a smoothie than a food with fewer ingredients."

There was a short pause.

"I see."

Deceit glanced back down at the paper again, looking over the lines of text with a blank expression.

"Very well," the man sighed as he stood. "I appreciate your assistance Logan. I… I'm going to go back to my room for a bit."

Logan blinked.

"Oh. Alright," he agreed. "Make sure to eat lunch soon, though. For now, stick to things like broth and juice, and add some of the vitamin powders."

"Yup. Sure."

A second later, Deceit was retreating down the hall, and though Logan wished he had eaten something first, he was glad that the man had been receptive to his aid. Logan had half-expected Deceit to snap at him, regardless of his tired agreement from the night previous, just as he had with anything else they'd said so far. But he hadn't; he'd listened, and that was a sign that, maybe, things would turn out okay. Maybe Deceit just needed to accept that he needed help, and now that he'd been back and with them for a little while, the thought was settling in more.

Maybe he would start accepting their help with the more difficult issues as well.

XXX

Janus felt his insides squirming as he went back to his room. He gently set Logan's plan down on his desk amongst the stacks of papers, fighting the urge to crumple it up in his hands. He knew Logan was trying to help, and he knew that he hadn't really protested the other side's offer, but… He hated this. Logan's plan was entirely too restricting, telling him when and what he should eat, regardless of his preferences or how he was feeling. Logan didn't understand that applesauce was easier to eat than a smoothie to him, or that he didn't want to eat with the others around to stare at him (which would be even more awkward with him sipping on liquids while everyone else ate actual food and tried to avoid the elephant in the room).

He just… He'd wanted to be the one to make his own plan for fixing his messed-up stomach, or to at least have some input. He wanted to be able to put in some consideration for the parts only he knew, the things he didn't want to share.

This plan- it gave Logan too much control over him. He didn't want Logan, or anyone, to have this much control over him. He hated it, hated it. But what else was he supposed to do? Now that Logan had given him this piece of paper, he'd expect Janus to follow it, and if he didn't, he'd probably end up with everyone getting on his back about it. Weren't they meddling in his affairs enough already? They moved his room, they took his door, and now he was going to be expected to eat based on their decisions as well?

Janus had been open to advice on this issue, because he didn't want to throw up every time he ate- he hadn't asked anyone to do this.

Why couldn't he just eat normally?

Why couldn't he even have that anymore?

XXX

Later that day, once afternoon turned to evening, Janus heard a knock on his door frame. He'd been trying to read a book (though there was an emphasis on trying, because he was having a hard time focusing on the words, in addition to the fact that he was setting it down every few minutes). Looking up, he found Patton standing in the doorway, a somewhat sheepish expression adorning his face.

"Is there something you need, Patton?" Janus asked, finally deciding to give up on the book.

The fatherly side stepped further into the room, despite the lack of permission. It irked Janus a bit, the fact that he hadn't even asked. Just because he didn't have a door at the moment did not mean that his room was now a common space. Even so, he again chose to say nothing about it.

"Well, I… We were going to play some board games after dinner, if you want to join us?" Patton offered. "I mean, I know you might still be tired and all, but maybe playing something will help keep your mind off of things."

"I hardly think Candy Land is going to help me forget that I died, Patton," he pointed out dryly.

Patton's smile fell.

"… We were going to play Jenga…"

He sighed.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline," he denied. "I have some paperwork to sort out anyway."

He hadn't actually had much intention of sorting out his paperwork right then, but now that he'd thought of it, perhaps he should get started on that (he'd already been so behind before, so how much work must have piled up while he was gone?

Now, Patton's frown deepened.

"I… I don't know if that's really what you need to be focusing on right now, Deceit…," Patton spoke carefully. "Your work is important, and you're going to have to sort it out eventually, but that doesn't have to be the priority right now. Nothing in those piles is so important that you have to figure it out right now. I mean, it's gone this long without being done, right? So a little while longer shouldn't hurt."

A sharp feeling stabbed into Deceit, a saccharine accusation formed into a needlepoint. Patton's comment very much felt like a subtle jab at the fact that Deceit hadn't really done his job in forever, and by extension, it felt like the fatherly side was pointing out how unimportant Deceit really was in the grand scheme of Thomas's mind. If he was more important, the paperwork would have to be a priority, so the fact that it wasn't was proof enough of his value. But he was reasonably certain that Patton didn't intend to insult him, which was almost worse. Patton was the kind of person who judged people in a subtle way, disguising it as concern or pity or whatever else, and he even had himself convinced. Because Patton didn't understand that, sometimes, believing those responses to be appropriate was itself an insult. Here, Patton was essentially saying that he wasn't even capable of doing his unimportant job, and even if those things were true, they still stung. Deceit wanted to be able to do his job, and the difficulty he'd been having with doing so was practically enough to drive him mad by itself.

"I mean, you've only been back for a few days, ya know? There's really no rush. And now that you're back, you're already doing some of your job just by being around! So don't feel too bad about not doing the paperwork."

This kind of thing was part of why he and Patton had never gotten along. You'd think that Deceit would love the complex little lies that surrounded Morality, but he actually hated them. Deceit dealt in lies, but Morality condemned the very thing he used every day. He would lie right to someone's face, then turn around and scold Deceit for doing the exact same thing. And even worse, when Deceit called him out on it, he'd be offended. It was hypocritical, and Janus had long-since tired of the other side's self-righteousness.

"I just think that doing something relaxing could help," Patton continued on. "I mean, I know it's not going to fix anything, but sometimes, doing something simple can be really helpful in at least keeping your head out of the bad thoughts."

He just kept talking. Prattling on and on to convince Janus to do something he'd already turned down. He'd told the man he didn't want to do it, and not even Logic could come up with a good argument for why playing Jenga was essential for his health or safety. It wasn't like he was refusing to eat (after all, he had eventually grabbed a cup of broth from the kitchen). But no, Patton couldn't ever listen to what Janus wanted.

Because, ultimately, Morality didn't care about Deceit, and Patton didn't care about Janus, so the man didn't actually give a damn what Janus wanted. He didn't respect him or his thoughts or his choices, because father knows best, and anything outside of what Morality deemed to be right was wrong.

Perhaps, it was the lack of respect that bothered Janus more than the hypocrisy.

"Why do you think I would find that relaxing?" Janus asked, his tone sharp.

He saw Patton blink, clearly confused.

"Huh?"

"It's not rhetorical," Janus clarified. "I'm serious. Why do you think it would relax me to play games with you all? Do you think I would enjoy myself?"

The questions really weren't rhetorical, though he was pretty sure he knew the true answers, regardless of how Patton would respond. Patton most definitely believed he would enjoy himself, and he definitely thought it would help Janus relax. Of course, those were false assumptions Patton had come to because he didn't actually know Janus at all and had simply assumed that his own beliefs in the benefits of Jenga were the same feelings Janus must have.

No, he just wanted to know how exactly Patton would answer him.

"Do you… not like Jenga?" Patton asked. "We can play a different game, if you want. I mean, we were just going to play Jenga because we haven't played it in a while, but we have plenty of other board games to pick from."

Janus sighed.

"This isn't about Jenga, Morality," he rejected bitterly. "It doesn't matter if you were going to play cards or checkers or Monopoly. I don't care which game you're playing."

He leaned forward slightly, looking Patton in the eyes.

"I'm asking why you think I want to play anything with any of you," Janus repeated. "Tell me, do you even remember the last time you and I played a board game together?"

Patton fidgeted.

"Um-I don't know? When Thomas was in middle school maybe? Or- I don't know. I know we haven't played anything together in a while, but that doesn't mean we can't now," he tried to respond.

"Doesn't it, though?" Deceit questioned. "Why did you ask me to play with you?"

"Because… I thought it would help distract you…?"

"No, no, I got that part," Deceit shook his head. "I meant why now, when we haven't played a game together in well over a decade? You certainly haven't asked in all these years. So, do tell me why."

Patton was staring at him with open confusion and some degree of concern.

"Um, Deceit, you died? I- You remember that… right…?"

Deceit hummed.

"Yes, I remember."

"But then why are you asking why I invited you to play a game?" Patton questioned. "You know why: I thought it would help distract you from your bad feelings around all this."

Deceit moved the book from his lap and crossed his legs.

"Because I'm trying to make a point, and I wanted to see if you could figure it out on your own," Deceit sighed. "Care to guess what it is, or should I just tell you?"

The fatherly side's eyebrows crinkled, and a few seconds passed before he answered, face falling in defeat.

"I think you'd better just tell me."

Part of Janus sunk a little, having hoped that Patton would have understood by now. But he didn't, so Deceit opened his mouth to explain.

"Very well," he agreed. "The gist of it is this: you're only asking me because of what happened. You aren't asking because you actually want me to play, and you aren't asking because you actually enjoy my presence. So, I'll ask one more time- why do you think that playing board games with a room full of people who hate me would be relaxing?"

Deceit expected Patton to look hurt- he'd certainly piled on the bitterness and anger during the course of the conversation, and Patton must think he was being 'mean' by now. But instead, he found sadness mixed into the man's expression.

"Kiddo, that's… that's not true," the man denied. "We don't hate you."

Deceit rolled his eyes.

"Shall I amend my statement to 'people who don't want me around, and don't enjoy spending time with me'? That's a bit of a mouthful, so forgive me for shortening it."

"Deceit," Patton stressed. "I know we don't get along, but I think you're oversimplifying this. There's a lot of issues between us, and I'm sure you know that, but what you don't know is how happy we are that you're back."

Happy. Happy. When was the last time any of the Light Sides were truly happy to see him? When was the last time they'd wanted him around, or even tolerated his presence without hurling insults and glares his way? Even now, they weren't actually happy to have Janus back- they were just relieved to have Deceit back, so he could fulfill his unfortunately essential roles, and keeping him around was their way of making sure he didn't cause problems by dying again. This was all just some farce to fix his mental health enough that he wouldn't actually kill himself.

They didn't really care about him at all.

"You know what, Patton?" Deceit spoke, smiling tensely. "I just don't really feel like playing anything right now. Again, thank you for your offer, but I am going to have to decline."

Reflect the honey-glazed lies back at him. Send him a false smile and polite words, and keep your tone sweet and light, and don't let the burning hurt shine through. Give him what he wants- a Deceit that acts like Morality.

"Kiddo-"

Kiddo.

"Patton, please," Janus broke quickly, the false sweetness shifting into an almost pleading tone. "Just stop. I just- I said no. Do you really want to spend the entire night arguing about this?"

Again, Patton shot him one of those sad, little-puppy-dog looks.

"No, I don't want to fight, Deceit," he sighed. "But I don't want you to spend the entire night miserable, either."

"In that case, leave me alone."

There was a long moment in which Patton just kept staring at him, opening and closing his mouth as he repeatedly tried to form a sentence that never came. Until finally, a different sentence emerged:

"Alright. If you change your mind, we'll be in the living room."

And then he left.

XXX