XXX Chapter 26: The Circle

Okay, so I decided to post a chapter at the last minute after all. Reminder that I have surgery tomorrow, so this fic may/may not update for a bit.

XXX

As soon as Janus's throat allowed it, he greedily sucked in large breaths of air, letting his lungs expand to an almost-full capacity.

He'd felt like he was dying.

He knew he wasn't, of course- after all, not only did he have enough experience with Virgil to know what a panic attack was, he had actually died, so he had some idea of what it felt like. But even if he knew he wasn't really dying, he still felt like he was. He could still feel his throat closing, feel his lungs trying to pull in whatever oxygen they could. He could still feel his heart clenching in his chest, beating far too fast, as a cold, shaky, numbness spread throughout his limbs. Even in the aftermath, with air going in and out unobstructed, he still felt terrible. His limbs were still feeling the effects of the adrenaline, and he was certain that, if he tried to stand, he would end up falling. The anxiety was still there, simmering lower now, and it was making him feel nauseous, and combined with the exhaustion that was quickly overtaking him, all he wanted to do was crawl into his bed and sleep for a long, long time.

The sickness and exhaustion weren't the only reasons he wanted to crawl under his covers, though.

Now that he was calming down, an unpleasant warmth began to spread over his cheeks, making the human half grow red.

This… This was bad.

He'd completely freaked out in front of Thomas, telling him things he never should have said, things that were always supposed to remain secret. This was worse than when he told Remus too much, because at least Remus was Remus. He wasn't one to judge, and he was his friend, even if Janus didn't always feel like he deserved it. Thomas, on the other hand… was Thomas. Janus was a part of him, and his biggest job was hiding the unpleasant truths from him until he was ready to face them. He was supposed to repress, keep things hidden. He wasn't supposed to make Thomas worry about him, and he certainly wasn't supposed to reveal information that would make the man's mental health any worse than it was. He was supposed to keep his damn mouth shut, and he couldn't even do something as simple as that anymore.

What a fine Deceit he was.

To make matters worse, he was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that he and Thomas weren't the only ones in the room. At some point during his panicking, the others must have shown up, most likely at Thomas's request. How long had they been there? How much had they seen? How much had they heard?

No doubt, this had cemented the idea that he'd tried to kill himself in their minds, at the least. Nothing quite like a mental breakdown to convince everyone you're crazy.

Wonderful.

"Hey, Deceit, are you back with us?" Thomas asked softly.

Internally, Janus groaned. Thomas wasn't supposed to use that voice with him. He wasn't supposed to know anything that would make him think he needed to. Though, perhaps it had been too late for that even before the conversation began.

Begrudgingly, he forced his body, which had ended up in a tight ball on the floor, to uncurl, looking up slightly.

Thomas was kneeling more-or-less in front of him, keeping about the same distance as he first had on the couch. Remus, he quickly figured out, was much closer, sitting beside him and clearly resisting the urge to grab him. Logan, Patton, and Roman stood farther back, towering over him, while Virgil was crouched off to the other side, his phone still playing familiar music in his hand. As he looked up, though, Virgil moved to turn it off.

Forced to accept the situation for what it was (a room full of people circling around him and staring at him right after he'd had an utter breakdown), he nodded slightly.

"Okay, that's good…"

"How are you feeling, Kiddo…?" Patton piped up.

Janus sighed.

"Like shit," he breathed, exhausted. "Can… Can I please go?"

He didn't even care if he was begging. There wasn't exactly much lower for him to go, so who cared if he showed just a little more weakness? It's not like it mattered at this point.

Thomas grimaced, eyebrows pinched.

"I… I don't know, Deceit…," he replied hesitantly. "I'm… I'm pretty concerned about some of the things you said, and I don't… I don't know if it's safe for you to be alone right now."

Janus tensed, hands starting to squeeze his arms again.

"I think we need to talk about that."

He didn't want to. Hadn't he already talked enough? He'd spilled just about everything he could have, and now Thomas wanted to talk about it even more?

He started shaking his head without even noticing.

"Deceit…," Thomas spoke sadly. "I know that this is hard, and it really sucks. But I mean it when I say I'm concerned for your safety. So, please, can we just… I need to make sure you're okay before you go."

Okay? How could he be okay? He hadn't been okay for so long, and he didn't know if he ever could be again.

"I'm fine, Thomas…," he tried to protest. "I just… got a bit carried away with the theatrics."

This time, Thomas was the one who shook his head.

"No, Deceit, you-" the man stumbled over his words. "You apologized for existing and said you wanted to disappear. That wasn't 'theatrics'. This is serious, and I'm not going to let you downplay it."

He heard someone breathe in sharply while Thomas spoke, even though he didn't have enough energy to care who it was.

"I'm scared, Deceit," Thomas admitted. "I don't want you to hurt yourself, and I don't want you to feel this way. And I can't let you live this way forever. We need to do something, and we're not going to be able to figure out what we need to do if you try to pretend there isn't a problem in the first place."

A fresh spike of anxiety shot through his heart.

"You need to let us help you."

He couldn't. He couldn't let them help him, because letting them help would require laying himself bare, and he couldn't do that any more than he already had. Hadn't this entire conversation proven that opening up would only end in disaster? And besides that, the only one out of everyone in the room he really trusted was Remus. He didn't even really trust Thomas (of course, Thomas was his priority, and he would always try to keep Thomas safe. He could even admit, to himself, at least, that he deeply cared about him. But those streets had only ever gone in one direction, and Janus couldn't say that he actually trusted him. He just couldn't). Not to mention the fact that the others would surely insist on continuing to be involved- including Virgil, who he couldn't ever imagine himself trusting again.

He couldn't do this.

"I can't," he whispered desperately, practically begging Thomas to understand.

"You can," Thomas insisted. "It doesn't need to be all at once. You aren't going to get better in a day, and we all know that already. But we need to start taking some steps."

He just shook his head again.

"DeeDee, please," Remus pleaded suddenly. "There's no point in trying to hide it anymore. We already know you aren't okay. You don't need to pretend you are."

He could feel tears starting to build back up again as Remus reached out to squeeze his hand.

He stared down at his hand. Then at Remus's face.

There really wasn't a point anymore, was there? They'd all seen him break down by now. And maybe trust didn't matter so much when you've become prone to spilling out your thoughts like a child without a filter.

Even still, it took Janus a long time to muster up the courage to speak.

"Fine."

XXX

Roman was, at first, surprised to hear Deceit eventually agree to accepting their help. He clearly didn't want to, and any of the help they'd already given him had more-or-less been forced upon him, seeing as they were trying to keep him safe, and Deceit wasn't doing a very good job with that on his own.

But then he looked at him- actually looked at him. He looked at his tired, red-rimmed eyes and black-streaked cheeks. He looked at the exhausted slump of his shoulders and the tight grip on his arms that he still wouldn't relinquish. He looked at his crumpled clothes and ruffled hair, his hat having fallen off at some point before they got there. He looked at him, and not just Deceit.

And he looked tired.

Deceit was a treed raccoon, too exhausted from the hunt to try to hop off onto too-far branches, with bloodhounds howling beneath him.

There was a certain amount of discomfort in realizing that they were the bloodhounds.

Despite everything that happened, Roman didn't believe that Deceit deserved any of this- to wish something like this on someone would be cruel, even if they didn't get along. Really, Roman wanted to help Deceit. The image of the man's broken body at the bottom of that cliff had been haunting him for months, and he didn't think he'd be able to handle seeing something like that again. He didn't want to imagine Deceit standing there at the edge and choosing to step off, and he didn't want to think about just what had been going through his head that would make him think that was better. Sure, Roman could, when he was alone in his room, have some pretty dark thoughts, but he could usually cope with them well enough. And when he couldn't, his friends would help him.

Deceit, for whatever reason, clearly couldn't cope with things, especially not on his own. So, even if they were all howling up at the tree, it wasn't because they wanted to tear the raccoon apart. They were all just trying to help him climb down, but all Deceit could see was snarling teeth and razor-sharp claws.

In the past, Roman would have, perhaps, painted Deceit as a raccoon scratching at the dogs chasing him, but that image was starting to crumble. Yes, Deceit would lash out with whatever claws or teeth he could, but that wasn't what was really going on. It was only the first layer. Beneath the anger, Roman had realized, was fear.

Because Deceit was afraid of them.

And why wouldn't he be? Him and the others were, quite frankly, much stronger than him. They held more sway over the Mindscape and over Thomas, and they'd never hesitated about making their opinions on the reptilian side known. That gave them a certain power over him, and even if that thought may have once given Roman some small bit of satisfaction, all it did now was make him feel like less of a prince and more of a tyrant. Now, Deceit was vulnerable in a way that would have been extremely difficult for any of them, and he was Deceit. Surely, being honest and vulnerable was even harder for him than it would be for them. So many pieces of this situation contradicted the man's functions.

Deceit would have never asked for their help. He hadn't even asked Remus, so thinking he would ask them would be ludicrous.

But even if he didn't ask for help, that didn't mean he didn't need it.

And perhaps, that was all the more reason that they should be the ones to offer. All those months ago, they hadn't known help was needed, so they hadn't offered it. But now, they were completely aware of the need.

And what kind of hero ignores someone who so desperately needs help?

"I know you're probably pretty tired, Deceit," Thomas continued after Deceit's agreement. "So I'll try to keep this as short as I can, but like I said, I need to make sure you're okay enough before you leave."

Deceit gave no response.

Thomas's eyebrows crinkled in concern as he spoke again.

"Do you feel like you're going to hurt yourself if you're alone right now?"

At this, Deceit sighed, rolling his eyes.

"No," he insisted. "Though, I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to convince you of that."

Thomas paused before responding.

"I… I don't know," he said, realizing something. "I'm not going to know if you're telling the truth, am I?"

Roman could see Deceit's face shift toward a grimace for just a moment, and he knew that Deceit didn't like Thomas's question.

"I suppose not," Deceit confirmed, voice bitter. "I could repeat myself until I'm blue in the face, and you'll all just keep thinking what you want to. If repeating myself was going to do anything, you would already believe me by now. But you don't, so here we are."

Finally, Deceit slackened his grip on his arms and let his hands fall to his lap.

"So, really, how are you going to figure out whether you want to let me go, Thomas?" Deceit asked, seeming genuine in the question. "Are we just going to go in circles all night? I don't know what you want from me."

Thomas frowned.

"… I don't know either, I think…," Thomas admitted. "I mean, I want to believe you. But considering everything, that's hard. And I don't want to put you in danger just because I want to believe something is true."

Silently, Roman wondered whether he should remind Thomas that he did, technically, have the ability to force Deceit to tell him the truth. If Thomas really wanted to know something, he could, after all. But ultimately, he decided against it, figuring that Deceit would likely not take too kindly to being literally forced to do something right now (even if what was already happening wasn't too far off). No one else mentioned it, either, so Roman just let the suggestion rest.

"So we're back at the start of the circle again."

Maybe he should suggest that one of them watch Deceit, at least for the night? Sure, he'd probably get angry again, but if Remus did it, it wouldn't be too bad, right?

"You know," Virgil joined in. "There really isn't a point in repeating everything over and over again."

He paused briefly.

"But I don't think it matters if we believe you or not."

He could see Deceit blink in surprise, possibly confusion.

"The fact is that you might not even know what you'll do," Virgil continued, looking almost as tired as Deceit. "You could feel fine now, but in a few hours, you might not. Or, maybe you aren't fine now, which I'm pretty sure you're not, but you really won't do anything. There isn't really a way to always know what you're gonna do, especially when you don't even know for sure."

Deceit shrugged, giving Virgil an observant, calculating look.

"So, what are we supposed to do, then?" Thomas asked, at a loss.

For a long moment, everyone was silent as they tried to figure it out, but most of them came up blank.

"If I may," Logan stepped forward. "As you said, Thomas, we aren't going to be able to figure everything out tonight. But I do think we should start considering some alternatives to our current strategy."

He turned toward Deceit.

"Our current strategy has focused more on prevention rather than healing, which can help us stop any new incidents from occurring but doesn't help fix the root of the issue," the logical side continued. "That may not be the best approach right now. The acute danger has technically passed- Deceit was injured and died months ago, and while he is not well, that doesn't mean he will immediately do something the moment we take our eyes off him. Granted, we also don't know he won't do something, but as Virgil said, we can't always rule that out."

Again, Deceit rolled his eyes.

"I think we need to shift our approach more toward fixing the problems that underlie Deceit's symptoms- the cause instead of the effect," he told them. "To that end, I believe that we should consider therapy- for both Deceit and Thomas."

"Huh? Me?" Thomas questioned, somewhat confused.

"Aside from the fact that you could benefit from therapy aside from Deceit," Logan explained, now turning to face Thomas. "I believe that part of the problem is based on you and your feelings, Thomas. Your mental health and Deceit's are intertwined, so his mental state affects yours and vice-versa. And adding to that, your perceptions of us and our functions are powerful. Part of Deceit's problem, at least, likely has to do with self-esteem, and as sides, it's hard for us to have high self-esteem if you see us negatively, Thomas."

"I don't-"

"Thomas," Logan spoke firmly. "With your current set of beliefs, most of Deceit's main functions are categorized as immoral or wrong. Even if you try to tell yourself otherwise, your core beliefs haven't changed. As much as you want to help Deceit, it's not that easy to change something like that, and even if your beliefs have started to shift, it doesn't change the past. Deceit is a product of your beliefs as much as the rest of us are, and there's a reason he presents as the villain."

There's a reason he presents as the villain.

Despite himself, Roman couldn't help the immediate thought that Deceit was a villain. He was selfish and manipulative and mean, and didn't that hurt people? But then again, Roman couldn't exactly claim he'd never been selfish or mean himself. Did that make him a villain? Or did that make Deceit more complicated than Roman wanted him to be (as if he wasn't already more complex than that in the first place)?

"You could try to address your beliefs in therapy," Logan suggested. "Evaluate your beliefs, why you have them, and which ones may need to be altered."

"Oh. I… Okay, I guess."

"And Deceit," Logan turned back toward him again. "In your case, you would probably benefit from psychotherapy that sorts out the sources of your distress and helps you cope with them more effectively. Unfortunately, our status as imaginary makes that more difficult, but-"

"Yeah, Emile, I get it," Deceit sighed, cutting him off. "There's only one therapist in the Mindscape."

Logan nodded.

"That may not be the complete solution, either, but it will likely help, at least," he replied. "In any case, you don't need to decide right now. You've had a long day, and you'd probably benefit from sleep more than anything else at this moment. We can figure out the rest later."

"Yeah, sure," Deceit agreed impatiently. "So can I leave now?"

Part of Roman wanted to protest, feeling like they still didn't actually get anywhere. Deceit wasn't feeling any better, and they still had no way of knowing if they'd wake up to another disaster. They'd come up with what was probably the easiest solution, but there still wasn't any weight behind it. Deceit didn't exactly seem enthusiastic about the idea, so would he even go? Even if they dragged him to Emile's office, they wouldn't be able to force him to talk. And if the answer was as easy as 'go to therapy', wouldn't Deceit have tried that (had he tried that)?

"I… Yeah," Thomas nodded. "But if you need to talk, or you don't want to be alone, you can pop back in, okay?"

Despite Deceit's nod, Roman doubted Thomas would see the man again tonight.

And then, without another word, Deceit sank back into the mindscape, and Roman silently vowed to himself to pass by Deceit's doorway a few times that night.

XXX