XXX

Janus was having a day.

Progress reports were sent out a few days ago, and he knew his father would have made his weekly post office run this morning. And unless the mail decided to be particularly slow this time, there was a good chance his progress report would have been in their PO Box.

And unless some kind of miracle happened, Janus knew he was going to be due for a lecture when he returned home.

He knew he wasn't doing… well in his classes. Okay, he knew he was failing half of them, and he was in danger of failing almost all of the rest of them. In fact, the only class he was doing reasonably okay in was theater, and that was only because it was one of the few things he actually enjoyed. Even then, he was hovering somewhere between a C and a low B.

In short, his parents were going to be furious with him.

Which. Wasn't exactly new. His grades had never been high, but they started tanking toward the end of middle school, and they hadn't really gotten better since. He usually managed to just barely squeeze out a passing grade in most of his classes.

He wasn't so sure he'd be able to do that this time, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care, either. He knew that he should, but that didn't mean he did.

To make matters worse, he was pretty sure he'd just failed another math exam that morning. It wasn't even on anything particularly difficult- he'd just completely forgotten about it, and he hadn't studied. Like, at all. That, at least, his parents were hopefully not going to find out about until the quarter ended, and by then, it would be included in his next lecture about his failing grades.

Whatever. It didn't matter anyway.

Sometimes, it felt like nothing did.

XXX

Well, Janus was right. For once.

His father had given him a look as soon as he'd returned from school, and even though Janus quickly retreated to his room, he knew that his father had already looked at his progress report. And sure enough, almost the exact same minute his mother walked through the door, he heard a sharp knock.

"Janus, come downstairs please. We need to have a talk," she told him.

He didn't want to. Of course he didn't want to- it's not like people ever enjoyed getting yelled at by their parents. But he knew his parents wouldn't let it go just because he didn't come downstairs; in fact, it was likely going to only make things worse on himself.

So, despite the fact that he wanted to just keep his door locked and never leave his room again, Janus left the room and descended the stairs, finding his parents sitting on the couch, waiting for him.

He stood in the doorway but didn't come any closer.

"Janus, can you come sit?" his mother requested.

But he made no move to do so.

"Janus. Come sit."

And then, Janus rolled his eyes, finally coming over and sitting in the chair across from them. His father sighed.

"Janus, can you explain these grades to us?" the man asked, holding up Janus's progress report.

And yes, his grades were apparently just as bad as he was expecting, if not worse,

He shrugged.

"Oh, I don't know, take your pick," Janus drawled sarcastically. "The dog ate my homework, a bird flew in the window and stole my project, my test spontaneously burst into flames without anyone noticing. Whichever."

Both of them frowned at him.

"Honey, we're trying to have a serious discussion about this," spoke his mother. "This can't continue. Any of it."

Any of it. He knew that his mother was talking about his attitude in addition to his grades, but that wasn't exactly unexpected either.

He didn't reply.

"You need to get your grades up, son," his father ordered firmly. "I don't know what you do all day that keeps you from studying and doing your homework, but whatever it is, you need to do less of it and focus more on school."

Mentally, Janus sniped: Oh, take your pick: Crying, getting beaten up, laying on my bed and staring at the ceiling for hours on end. Take your pick.

But he said nothing, only rolling his eyes again, crossing his arms over his chest this time.

"Janus, that's enough of your attitude for today," his father continued. "Your mother and I don't ask that much of you- just a few chores and that you do well in school. We don't make you get a job or do all the yard work, or even cook dinner, which your brother does without even needing to be asked."

And there it was. The 'Patton is Perfect' part of the conversation. Perfect little Patton, who cooks everyone dinner like a good little son because he isn't terrible. Janus couldn't keep himself from grimacing at the comment.

Nor could he keep himself from spitting out:

"Oh, fuck off."

He knew that was a mistake. He shouldn't curse out his parents. It didn't even help with anything, it just made things worse, but he just hated that they always thought Patton was so much better than him.

His father's face twisted, and his mother looked shocked- and Janus had to remind himself where he was, he would be okay, even if they got mad, he would be okay.

And then his father stood up, pointing a finger at him.

"You do not talk to us that way, Janus, do you understand me?" the man hissed. "No son of ours is going to curse at us when we're trying to have a discussion. Have you ever heard Patton curse at us? Do we even need to have these discussions with him, at all?"

Rage boiled beneath his skin.

Patton, Patton, Patton.

He knew that they preferred Patton over him, he knew that already, but- dammit- every reminder like this just made his blood thrum with such hot anger that he could hardly stand it.

"SHUT UP! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT WHAT FUCKING PATTON DOES!" Janus yelled, standing up to meet his father's eyes. "I don't care! I seriously don't give a single shit! We have this conversation over and over and over again, and you two still can't get the fucking hint that I. Don't. Care!"

"Janus-"

He could see that his parents' expressions had softened the slightest bit, but he was already yelling and too far-gone to stop himself.

"I never fucking asked to be your damn son, so maybe you should stop being so damn surprised when I don't act like it!"

And at that, he could see hurt flash in their eyes, but his father's face hardened again in a moment, and that was all Janus could focus on then.

"Go. To your room, Janus," he spoke, quietly, with an undercurrent of anger. "Don't come back downstairs until dinner, and I'll be coming up later tonight. I better see you studying when I do. Do I make myself clear?"

"Whatever."

With that final word, Janus stormed out of his room and began to stomp up the stairs, fully intending to head straight into his room.

But there, waiting at the top of the stairs, was Patton.

"Hey, Jan, are you okay-"

"Fuck. Off. Patton." Janus growled out.

And then he pushed past his brother and flew into his room, slamming the door behind him.

XXX

Once Janus had gone to his room, he fell onto his bed, and for a while after, just laid there, not particularly registering anything other than the sound of his blood thrumming in his ears. All he could think about was how angry he was.

So, when his father came upstairs and knocked on his door, Janus didn't even bother responding.

"Janus, come down to eat."

He did not, in fact, go downstairs for dinner. He was sure that, if he did, he would just end up yelling at all of them again, and he didn't feel up to that anymore.

Eventually, most of his rage left him, fading into the background until it settled down into his usual level of controlled bitterness. With the ebbing of his anger, however, came a tidal wave of sadness and loneliness.

They hated him. They all hated him. His parents, the other students at school, his teachers, even Patton probably hated him by now, with all he'd done. Even his perfect brother who didn't hate anyone probably hated him.

Maybe they should hate him. He'd gone too far tonight, and it wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last. He'd been hurtful and nasty, and it was entirely on purpose. He was terrible. Terrible, terrible, terrible.

His phone started buzzing. Picking it up, he saw that Remus had been texting him.

Remus.

Remus probably hated him too. It was Janus's fault that he and Virgil had a rocky relationship now, and Janus had always been a horrible friend anyway. Remus hated him, he just knew it.

And Remus had abandoned him- left him when he was the only person Janus had who he could actually trust, and maybe he deserved to be abandoned (again, again, again), but he couldn't stop the bitterness from rising up again.

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair, and he hated it, and he hated everyone, and he hated school, and he hated his parents, and he hated Patton, and he hated Remus, and he hated himself most of all, but right now, with Remus sending him text after text, his hatred of his friend won out, and he angrily grabbed the phone and switched it off, not reading a single message.

After that, it didn't take long for Janus to pull open the drawer in his bedside table and slip out a shining line of silver, letting himself give into the impulse to draw blood.

Once that was done, Janus wrapped his newest wounds and fell asleep, never finding out if his father had ever come up to check if he was studying.

XXX