XXX Chapter 19: The Refusal
So, here's the next chapter. Sorry about being dramatic in the notes last time, I'm just not doing so great. Thanks to those of you who commented, both about my author's note and the story itself.
Anyway, here we go:
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They'd actually done it. They'd moved his and Remus's rooms and locked the door to the Dark Side, and they removed his door entirely.
Hours had passed now, and he was laying in his bed, sulking. The bed faced the open doorway, letting in the sounds of the others cooking dinner in the kitchen.
He hated this. Anyone could see into his room and look at him at any time, without even so much as a warning. They didn't even have to do it on purpose. They could just be walking down the hall and see him (which wasn't exactly helped by the fact that they'd decided to stick his room in the middle, right between Roman and Patton's). Even if there wasn't anyone there watching him, there was always the possibility that there would be at any moment.
It wasn't even that he wanted to hurt himself right then or anything. He wasn't trying to do anything the others disapproved of. He just wanted to lay down for a bit, but he felt like he couldn't relax. Instead, he had to keep himself on guard, watching the doorway in anticipation of someone's approach. Janus had always been a private person, and he enjoyed having his own space and alone time. He needed to be by himself sometimes, even when he was perfectly okay. In fact, it was part of what kept him okay. Being alone for a while was part of his self-care, and it allowed him to calm whatever negative emotions were plaguing him, whether it be anger or anxiety or whatever else. But now, because he'd taken his isolation too far, he wasn't allowed to have any privacy at all.
Eventually, Janus decided that he'd had enough of staring at the doorway. If he was going to have to put up with not having a door, he was at least going to make it so the others would have to enter the room to see him.
And so, Janus stood up and tried to concentrate on moving his bed. After a few minutes of trying, however, he gave up on that route. His powers had been getting weaker even before he'd fallen from the cliff, and doing something as big as rearranging his room was too big of a task for his exhausted power supply. So, it seemed that, despite how tired his body was as well, he'd have to move the bed by hand.
With a deep sigh, he gripped the bed frame on the one side and began to tug. Inch by inch, the bed dragged across the carpet, but before it was any more than a foot to the left, Janus had to take a break. Breathing heavily, he sat back down on the mattress. Curse his previous decision to have a giant fucking bed.
"Um… What are you doing? Are you okay?"
Janus flinched and whipped his head toward the doorway.
Virgil was standing there, one hand holding the doorframe and his expression concerned. This. This was exactly the issue.
"I'm… fine…," he insisted between breaths.
"Then why are you breathing like that?"
"The bed… is heavy."
Janus knew that, even considering the weight of the bed, he normally wouldn't be out of breath just from barely moving it. But just like his powers, his body was a lot weaker than it used to be. Things that used to be easy weren't so easy anymore.
Virgil shot him a confused look.
"Are you… moving it?"
"Yes."
At least it wasn't taking him so long to catch his breath.
"Why?"
"Oh, I'm sorry for not wanting you all to stare at me while I sleep," Janus drawled bitterly. "No, I just love having everyone who passes by my door being able to watch my every move. It's not creepy at all!"
Virgil frowned, though the expression was much less angry than Janus would have expected.
"Why aren't you just, you know," Virgil gestured as if he was summoning something.
Janus didn't particularly want to tell Virgil that he couldn't, so he just grimaced. Despite the attempt, though, he was pretty sure Virgil figured it out.
"… Do you want me to help?"
The offer surprised Janus. He'd been expecting Virgil to yell at him or roll his eyes and leave. As such, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"What, not going to hiss at me or accuse me of plotting something?"
That did get Virgil to roll his eyes, but he didn't leave.
"No," he sighed. "I get it, you know? I'd hate not having privacy, too."
"Well, you most certainly didn't say that earlier."
"Because I'm not sure this isn't necessary, dude," Virgil huffed. "Like, I get that it sucks, but you can't- you can't lock yourself in your room for months on end like that."
Janus took a turn with rolling his eyes.
"I feel like months is an exaggeration."
"It's not," Virgil denied. "Remus sucks at keeping track of time, but he said you were in there from shortly after the court thing until a while after Remus showed himself to Thomas. Those videos were 2 months apart, Janus."
Janus blinked.
"Were they?"
Had he really been in his room that long? He'd thought it had only been a few weeks, not over two months.
"Yeah. Seeing the problem now?"
Janus shot him a glare.
"Well, I left on my own, didn't I?" Janus asked despite knowing that Virgil wouldn't technically know that for sure. "I had a door and didn't lock myself away for quite a few months after that."
"Maybe, but I still think we should be worried about it happening again, especially if your sense of time is getting as bad as Remus's," Virgil told him. "But this is just temporary. Princey will put your door back eventually."
"At his discretion, I'm sure."
"More like Logan's," Virgil corrected. "Which is probably better for you, anyway, because Logan will tell him to put it back once he thinks the probability of you hurting yourself is lower, but Roman probably wouldn't ever give it back."
"In that case, I'm ever so grateful to be at the mercy of Logan's whims."
Virgil sighed again.
"Well, do you want me to help you move your bed or not?"
Janus crosses his arms, weighing the pros and cons of letting Virgil help and struggling to do it himself.
"Fine."
The anxious side nodded, and with a quick snap of his fingers, the bed (and Janus) was across the room, against the other wall so that he couldn't be seen from the doorway.
"There," Virgil stated. "Dinner will be done soon, by the way. You haven't eaten anything in a pretty long time, so you should probably come."
"We don't need to eat Virgil," Janus argued.
"We do if we want to be able to move furniture around," Virgil spoke pointedly as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "You aren't powerful enough to skip meals right now, dude. You died and had to reform after spending months unconscious, and I'm pretty sure you were neglecting your health pretty badly for a while before that. There's no way your energy isn't spent after everything."
Janus didn't respond, Looking determinedly away from the anxious side.
"Look, if you really don't want to eat with us, Patton will probably bring you a plate," said Virgil. "If he does, will you eat it?"
It was only after a long pause that Janus responded.
"… Possibly."
"Good enough."
After that, Virgil left the room, leaving Janus to lay back in his bed with the tiniest bit of added privacy from prying eyes, even if he knew that it could be punctured with the slightest breeze.
XXX
"DeeDee, please come eat with us," Remus asked him for what must have been the fifth time now.
Us. That was something to get used to. He hadn't even been in the Light Side that long- hadn't even been awake that long, either- but he was already starting to catch hints that Remus's relationships with the others had shifted in his absence. The very fact that the two of them were even there was evidence enough of that, even if he ignored the 'us's and 'we's, and the way they included Remus in decisions and discussions, in the distinct lack of animosity elicited by Remus's mere presence, in the casual familiarity that was bred, if not by affection, by being used to someone's presence. He knew Remus spent a lot of time with the others while he was gone, and it's not like he was so selfish that he would have wanted Remus to be completely alone the entire time, but he couldn't help but feel a sharp sting of jealousy (and maybe betrayal?).
Remus was his friend, the only one he had once Virgil left them to go frolic with the Light Sides. He and Remus were supposed to always be together, and after Virgil left, their resolution to stick together in the Dark had strengthened. But more recently, Janus had pushed Remus away, kept him at arm's length. And even though Janus knew that was his own fault, he couldn't help the jealous feeling from welling up. Maybe he wasn't selfish enough to want Remus to be alone, but he was apparently more than selfish enough to feel slighted when the other man actually did spend time with the others.
It wasn't fair to Remus, and he felt guilty about those bitter feelings, but at the same time, his anger kept his mouth glued firmly shut. Remus was letting the others keep him here, agreed to it, helped them do it (forced Janus to do what they wanted). Janus didn't want to be here with the Lights. He had accepted his place in the Dark long ago, and it was his home. Here, there were no squeaky kitchen cabinets or the remnants of Remus's experiments from all the years before. There were no familiar pictures hanging on the walls or the comforting feeling of knowing where everything was.
The simple fact was that this wasn't his place. Deceit wasn't really welcome here. He was a guest until the Light Sides' pity ran out. No one actually wanted him there- he was only there so everyone could make sure he didn't hurt himself. And it's not like he cared whether the others liked him or not, but that knowledge- the knowledge that he was little more than a burden in need of babysitting burned within his mind. He was outside of his own domain, forced to remain in enemy territory, and he couldn't even have a door so he could pretend otherwise for a moment.
"Come on, Dee, at least say something. Please?"
Remus. Remus, Remus, Remus.
He didn't want to be mad at Remus. But he also didn't want Remus to betray him. And, sure, part of him knew that Remus was only trying to help, that he'd put Remus through a lot already, but he couldn't stop the fire from kindling in his chest. It was irrational, but even though this was supposed to be for Janus's own benefit, he felt like Remus had chosen the Light Sides. He'd taken their side on this, made him go to their side of the Mindscape.
Remus liked the others now. Janus could tell, even with as little as he'd seen them interact thus far. And again, it was selfish, but Janus was terrified of what that meant, the fear fueling his anger and laying the bricks for his walls. Liking the Light Sides was Virgil's first step toward becoming one of them. Tolerance was a slippery slope down to leaving Janus behind, and he didn't know what to do if that happened. Janus was going to return to the Dark Side eventually. Whether it was because he managed to convince the others he was okay enough to do so or because they got tired of him and tossed him back, he wasn't going to stay here forever.
When he returned, would Remus return with him? Or would he stay in the Light, where he had more influence, where he could be with his brother, where he could repair his relationship with Virgil and befriend the others, where he didn't have to spend his life with a bitter, selfish villain who was so terrible at keeping his shit together that he was dragging Remus down with him.
"Jan."
Maybe it would be best for Remus to stay with the Lights. Maybe Remus would thrive once he was finally away from the Dark (away from Deceit). Maybe Remus could actually be happy, deal with his own issues without having to worry about Janus's. Maybe Virgil had the right idea about leaving, and Janus was just manipulative enough to convince Remus to stay. Maybe Janus deserved to be alone in the Dark with his issues, after everything he'd done. Maybe that should be his punishment, staying alive so his absence wouldn't affect Thomas, but quarantined in his own area so he didn't infect everyone else with his poison. Maybe, maybe, maybe…
"Janus!"
He jolted at Remus's shout, his attempts at ignoring him having shifted into spacing out.
Apparently, Remus saw the flinch and knew that Janus was present and listening again, even though he still didn't say a word.
"Jan, are you okay?" he asked, his voice too soft.
Remus looked scared, scared that something was wrong with him, scared on Janus's behalf. And at seeing that expression, the anger and bitterness became just a bit easier to sweep under the rug. He was hurting Remus by acting like this. And maybe Remus had betrayed him a little, but why wouldn't he? Janus deserved it. And Remus deserved better. So much better than him.
So, maybe this could be the first part of his punishment. Talking to Remus when he didn't want to, accepting a situation he hated.
"I'm fine," he finally replied, his voice small and toneless.
Again, the man's face crinkled in concern.
"Are you sure? You're acting spacey."
He shifted so his face was turned slightly further into the sheets of his bed.
"It's been a long day, Remus…," he sighed.
At this, Remus, deflated, his shoulders sinking.
"I know. But it'll get better, Dee," Remus told him. "We'll figure it out, okay?"
Janus didn't quite believe the other man's reassurances. He hadn't really felt okay in a long time, and he was almost starting to feel like he was forgetting what it was like. And even if he could feel better eventually, Janus didn't even know where to start or what to do, and he didn't think the others were too sure either. These 'safeguards' they were enforcing on him were merely a way to prevent him from acting on any desires to hurt himself. They wouldn't take those desires away, or lift the heaviness from his shoulders, or settle the rolling storm of anxiety in his chest. They wouldn't change anything- they were only meant to prevent.
"Are you hungry?" Remus tried again. "Pops and Wolverine made food."
He couldn't hold back the tensing of his muscles. The thing was that Janus was hungry. He hadn't really eaten since waking up, and who knew when the last time he'd eaten an actual meal had been. But at the same time, he couldn't think of a single thing he'd find appetizing right then, and he'd already long-since gotten used to the feeling of hunger gnawing away at his stomach. He hadn't eaten while locked away in his room simply because he lacked access to food. If he wanted to eat, he had to leave, and since leaving felt like an insurmountable task, and eating wasn't strictly necessary for them, he just went hungry. But after he left his room, he still found eating difficult, even though he wanted to eat. He was hungry, but everything in their kitchen looked disgusting, and most of it would take too much effort to prepare, anyway. He felt physically ill, even though he wasn't really sick. He was just so anxious that he was nauseous.
In the end, he continued to skip a lot of meals, and when he did eat, he mainly stuck to bland things that he could just shove into his mouth without cooking. Rice crackers became a staple because they were easiest for him to eat without wanting to throw up, but they tasted like styrofoam and left his mouth dry. Just about anything else- anything with an actual flavor- made his stomach churn, though. He once spent over an hour taking small bites of ramen that he'd been foolish enough to add soy sauce to, and the taste of a pizza slice left him close to vomiting, even though he liked ramen and pizza, and even though he was hungry. It was annoying and frustrating, and he didn't really have the energy to deal with it, so it was easier to just not eat.
He thought that, maybe, now that he'd reformed, the difficulty might have gone away. Maybe there had been something wrong and he just hadn't known, and it would be fixed now. But that didn't mean he could just go eat dinner with everyone.
He couldn't stand the thought of sitting and eating while they stared at him, or if they pretended he wasn't there. He didn't want to listen to awkward conversation that danced around what happened, nor did he want anyone to try to discuss it. He didn't want to have everyone finish their food and have to awkwardly wait for him to slowly finish his own, if he could finish it at all. He didn't want them to watch him gag if the flavors were too strong, or if he took too big of a bite at once. He didn't want to have to be immersed in that dreadful feeling of being somewhere he didn't belong, somewhere he wasn't wanted.
How could he just go down and eat with them all, as if that was normal, when it wasn't?
"I can't eat with everyone right now, Remus," Janus admitted eventually. "I can't."
Remus sighed and stood up.
"Okay. We'll bring you something in a bit, and you can eat in your room," he relented. "If you change your mind, though…"
He trailed off, but Janus understood the point and shook his head.
"Alright. I'll come back later, okay?"
Janus said nothing as he left the room.
XXX
Yeah, so Janus is very much not happy with this whole situation…
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