#emile writes

“I don’t want to go on an adventure,” Second replied. “I want to sleep.”

“You always want to sleep.”

“Such is life.” Second turned onto their side to hide their face from the disruptor of all things good and pure. “Go away.”

Green stopped shaking them, only to sit in the space between Second’s chest and the backrest of the couch. “So Purple was talking about this dungeon called the Trial Chambers and apparently some of the loot you can get from it is like three music discs! I really really need them! Please come with me.”

Second turned their head slightly, squinting at her. “You can get those from the block.”

She shook her head. “We’re grounded from the block because we destroyed Alan’s phone, remember?”

“If we’re grounded, shouldn’t we stay on the PC?” 

Green leaned to the side to get face to face with Second, who had to shuffle themself backwards for her to fit. “Alan never specified that. Besides, we could get a mace core from it.”

They frowned. “What’s a mace core?”

Green had a smirk on her face. “Oh you know, only the key to an exclusive weapon that the others don’t have yet. It’s just the perfect thing to prank everyone if you get the timing right. But I guess you don’t care so I’ll have it all to myself.” She started sitting back up when Second grabbed her shoulders. “Unless, you want to come with?”

Second stared at her for a moment, considering. Doing this was going to end the perfect day of doing nothing, and Second had been looking forward to it. But… They had a hard time saying no to this adventure, especially when a new tool was at stake. Besides, they had a bad feeling about letting Green go to a dungeon alone. Second let out a long sigh and Green laughed as she pulled both of them to their feet. It was time for an adventure.

Second rubbed their eyes looking around the forest noticeably empty of any building that could hold a magical new weapon.

Green lowered the map from her face. “It looks like we’re going to have to dig down!”

They got out their shovels and started the descent. “Do you think there’s anything here that the others will like?” Second asked.

“Uhh, I don’t know? Yellow might like the copper bulbs? I haven’t looked into it other than what Purple showed me.” They dug into a cave, and Second was quick to place down water to stop their fall. While Second managed to land, Green fell flat on her back. She sat up, rubbing the back of her head. Second reached out their hand and pulled her to her feet. The two looked around. They were on deepslate but the lighter stone could still be seen at the top of the cavern. Green pulled out a torch and pointed. “I see tuff bricks over there! I think that’s it!”

“Do we have a game plan?” Second asked.

Green shrugged with a stupid grin. “Have fun and don’t die?”

Second shook their head but couldn’t help smiling back. They got out their sword as Green equipped her fishing rod. Running headfirst into danger always had that thrill to it. Second often tried to tamp it down around the others, especially when the consequences kept growing. But they couldn’t help but love the adrenaline of fighting, and the fluidity of the group when they did it together. They weren’t made for it like the others, like Green, but sometimes during a fight for their lives, they truly felt like there was nothing else they could be for. Green threw her fishing rod line to a stalactite and swung closer to land on top of the tuff box. Second grabbed their own fishing rod with their offhand and wrapped the string around Green’s stomach to pull her back. 

They managed to run past her, retracting the line as Green recovered. Green retaliated by grabbing the string and using it to help herself up, stunting Second’s movement. The race ended in a tie, Second stopping right in front of the wall of tuff bricks and Green running into it. Green rubbed her forehead, looking at the chamber. It was unassuming, for a dungeon. Second had been to the other structures in Minecraft. They usually gave a sense of something. The air of mystery of a stronghold, the imposing form of a fortress. This was… the corner of a box. Second started mining through the tuff, it broke under their pick like butter (which was always satisfying) and reached the vibrant teal of copper. Green mined next to them, officially opening them to a long, double storied hallway. It was lined with various dusty pots, and the upper level was made of grates swinging on chains surrounding something. Green rubbed her hand on the layer of copper.

“It’s all waxed! God this would be so good for building with so I don’t have to wait.” There was an energy alight in her eyes that Second wanted to keep staring at, but Green moved on quicker than they could. “Let’s fight some mobs.”

Fighting was even better when they worked together instead of against each other. Green climbed up the ladder to the next level, and just as Second joined her, a wooshing sound filled the air. Then the fighting began. It was unrestrained, easy fun. Green sliced the head of the bogged right off its body and Second used their sword to bat it into the next bogged as it appeared. Within moments all the skeletons were gone. A poof of smoke flew out of the trial spawner, revealing two orange keys.

“Hey look, it matches you.” Green held them up to Seconds face.

They lowered her hand away from them. “It looks closer to King’s color if anything. These let us get the mace core thing, right?”

Green nodded. “And the music discs! Just need to find where they fit.”

Apparently their first loot drop was lucky. Green inserted the skull key into it and received various arrows, emeralds, and a music disc. She held her hand in a fist with a smile before throwing everything into her inventory. She tried to put the other key in, but the vault refused to open. Green got down on her knees, looking at the swirling loot in it, trying to figure out how to get everything out. Second took the key from her hand, both of them jumping back in surprise when the vault clicked: working once again. Their loot was less exciting as it didn’t have any other discs that Green wanted or the mace. Just some potions they recognized and one that they didn’t. The two resolved to get more keys and keep trying.

What was one spawner per fight quickly escalated to Green and Second facing hoards of monsters being summoned one after the other with little to no respite. Second would lean against the wall to catch their breath only to be surprised by a baby zombie tripping them. And Green, who wasn’t that practiced with her bow, decided to dedicate to using it in the room filled with nothing but silverfish and spiders. Each time a trial gave them their keys, they’d open the vaults hoping for their promised prizes. And each time they’d be underwhelmed by armor they didn’t need and an insulting amount of shields. It came to the point that they had taken on every single room in the trial chamber with no luck, and overflowing inventories. Second started dumping everything they didn’t need in a random barrel while Green paced the hallway.

“What if we missed something? They wouldn’t just not be in the loot table, right?” Green asked. “We must have just been unlucky. Purple did say that they were really rare.”

Second shrugged, looking over the potion bottles they managed to amass. “If we can’t break into any of those vaults then maybe this trial chamber just didn’t generate with the discs or the mace core. We might have to find a different one.”

Green frowned. “It’d take a lot of time to travel out far enough to get a new map. I don’t want to worry anyone by disappearing. But… what’s that?”

“What’s what?” Second looked around, only to find Green pointing at the potion in their hand. “Oh, just another thing I got from the vault. I don't know what it does but its label says ‘ominous’, which seems suspicious.”

Green grabbed it from Second’s hand and looked it over. “Oh my god I think this unlocks another layer to the trial chamber! Purple said something about ominous trials. They both have the word ‘ominous’ in them! Maybe we drink this to unlock it.”

“We don’t have to drink the random thing I picked up-”

She had already downed it, scrunched her face together in distaste. The glass shattered in her palm, a rushing air current wooshed through the chamber as a distinct teal hue surrounded Green. The two sticks looked around for any obvious changes. When no loud sounds or movements happened, their shoulders slouched.

“Let’s just… get back to the PC.” Green muttered, starting her walk to the beginning of the dungeon.

Second frowned and sped up their pace to be next to her. “We can always try again after doing some more research. That way we know for sure how to get everything.”

Green smiled at them. “Yeah. Yeah! This isn’t giving up. We’re just being tactical.”

“Yellow will be so proud of us.”

The two laughed, making their way into a two storied room. The spawners rushed back to life, glowing an ominous teal. Green stepped back, readying her fishing rod. The husks from each spawner appeared at once, now they were covered in shining diamond armor with intricate copper trim. She started her elegant dance to fight back everything as if she practiced with them beforehand, but it was stunted. It wasn’t as effective with stronger foes who seemed to be able to predict her every move. As Green tried to fishing rod her way out of the hoard, one husk grabbed her leg and pulled her down. Second fought their way through the monsters, slaying some but mostly just damaging them, and helped her up. They stood back to back and killed the overwhelming avalanche of undead.

“Were they this smart before?” Or this geared?!” Second yelled, blocking a husk with their shield before stabbing it.

“No!” Green denied, using her trident to impale two husks at once and tossing them aside. “Maybe… Was it the potion?”

Second killed off the last one, wiping sweat off their brow. They looked at the onslaught of enchanted weapons and armor that the zombie husks had left behind. It did seem more intense. Their thoughts were interrupted by the triple ding of the spawners, awarding them with cooked steak, a regeneration potion, and two blue keys. Second picked them up, handing the additional key to Green. 

“I guess this is the new layer,” Second said, giving Green a smile. “Ready to run this dungeon again?”

After many, many more fights and many, many more vaults: Second and Green had gathered the loot they were after. Almost. It took a couple of tries to get another music disc and the heavy core, and they were lucky enough to get some enchanted books to go with what would soon be Second’s mace. But they couldn’t get the final disc. They searched through the chambers, looking for any vaults they could’ve missed, killing any wayward mobs to get as many keys as possible. But the potion effect on Green ran out, and the entire dungeon had been emptied. So the two decided to go home with their partial victory.

Green dedicated the next day to listening to her new music discs and freestyling additional beats over them, and messing with the tempos. She was brainstorming a way to personalize the songs that still showed appreciation to the original artistic intent. That’s what she had told Second, at least. Second thought all of it sounded good, but stopped fully listening once Green started playing the same few seconds of Creator over and over. They were doodling in the left hand corner of a photoshop tab next to her. Second was trying not to fully finish or realize any of the doodles, so they had to take it slow and avoided closing any of the lines. Alan had dealt with quite a lot of shenanigans that week. One quiet day would be kind, if the gang could ever manage it. That didn’t stop Second from looking at Green and frowning when the Creator disc started making static, the song long since stopped but not taken out the jukebox.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get the final disc that you wanted,” they said.

Green glanced at them, before looking back, putting the disc back in her inventory after a beat. She sighed and jumped up to sit at the edge of the tab, next to where Second was standing. They joined her, crossing their legs.

“It’s okay.” Second must’ve made a face because Green immediately looked offended. “I mean it! You were right from the start, I could’ve grabbed all of them from the Block at any time. I just wanted it to be an adventure! I wanted to earn them, y’know? And besides, I was mostly just looking for an excuse to hang out with you.”

“Really?” Second asked, leaning close to her face. Suddenly Green’s hue shifted darker. “I know you’re a real perfectionist. Quality time with me makes up for an incomplete collection?”

She stuttered. “Uh. No, actually. I would trade you to the trial chamber for that disc in a heartbeat!”

Several seconds passed before Green relented. “I wouldn’t actually do that. But yeah, I had a good time hanging out with you, even though I didn’t totally get what I wanted.”

Second grinned and pulled her into a hug, which Green immediately reciprocated. She leaned against them with the same weight they leant against her. Second spent a few moments just basking in the serenity. The comfort of holding and being held. Then- “Great, because according to the Minecraft Wiki all we had to do for the last disc was break all the big pots that were in there.”

Green threw them into the taskbar.

Chapter One - Lungs

The first feeling, or experience rather, Logan has is unbridled anguish. He doesn’t remember much of it. His body gives him a sharp spike of electricity when he moves his neck, clearly as a result of what occurred. The shaking of their palms when they were made to look someone in the eyes. A fear he couldn’t place the origin of. Logan’s body felt wrong to exist in. It felt wrong to be there at all. His body feels as if it was dismantled and reattached slightly differently. Functional, but not the same. Logan had begun adjusting to the changes far quicker than his muscle memory could. It hurt to stand too long, a pain coming from his spine would trail its way to his legs, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Logan was reminded of this fact when one of their knees locked, and he forced himself to fall to the side so he could catch himself. His entire weight supported by one leg and his hands on the edges of the kitchen counter. Logan slowly led himself to sit on his couch, easing himself into a lying position. He took a slow, deep breath.

Breathing is a difficult sensation to get used to. It’s supposed to be constant, quiet, and easy. And yet it’s so integral to survival. Especially for a being with lungs. You have to breathe in oxygen, and out carbon dioxide. A consistent transfer of elements with your body holding the key to change. If you hold your breath, the carbon dioxide holds a heavy space in your lungs, poisoning the rest of your organs. If you breathe too quickly, risk tiring yourself out, and accomplishing nothing by speeding up the endless repetition. Both can lead to fainting or passing out. What a fickle way to live, to survive. 

So imagine Logan’s surprise that everyone around him could do this without thinking. This was normal. And he was not. Now was their chance to be just like the others, with working lungs, a working body, and a working heart. It wasn’t pleasant to feel constant changes within himself in a manner he couldn’t control. Nothing could truly be perfectly measured or predicted or controlled. Logan pressed his left thumb pad against his right index finger, cradling the right hand softly, and felt the small ridges of fingerprints conflict with their paths next to each other. This was one of the new sensations they didn’t mind. He did this while reminding himself to breathe, concerned that his judgment would lapse and he would simply die too early on in his existence. Logan thought about feeling, and if he had enough time to get used to the stimulus he didn’t used to have access to. A sudden flash of pain went past his neck, causing him to suddenly tilt his head to the left. He exhaled loudly, with a shudder, to keep his composure. Logan didn’t know a lot about social conventions but screaming every time he felt an ounce of discomfort definitely did not fit that criteria. However, he was new to the apartment complex, so perhaps that was actually acceptable and he would have to discover that later. 

Logan wanted to get this all under control within the next ten minutes, though he wasn’t accurately able to tell how long he had been laying down when the static that seemed to follow him blocked his vision. Breathing was still difficult. Still present. A reminder that they were failing their objective already. That this wasn’t going to plan. He was going to die on day one. Despite the severity of everything Logan felt (he FELT things now), he wasn’t allowed to give up. That was explicitly against the rules. 

With the overpowered conviction of doing what he was told, Logan laid on the couch silently. A pain in his lungs, a throbbing in his head. Well, technically the pain was coming from his nerves sending signals to his… brain. Logan frowned, almost pulled from the sensation of his lungs being crushed by a hydraulic press by the reminder. His brain. Logan still didn’t fully understand how he worked, even if he knew the components that made him up. They desperately wanted to. Just to know. Logan enjoyed learning. He didn’t know a lot about himself, but he knew that. Logan wanted to learn.

He pressed the palms of his hands against his closed eyes, somehow that specific type of pressure alleviated the pain. There was a knock on his door after a few minutes. It was his first day living in this apartment. Logan was told to expect greetings from neighbors, in some regard. But this felt overwhelming still. 

Logan ignored them.

The next day was filled with duller pain, but still ever present. His neck creaked loudly as he tilted his head from side to side. Logan had to leave the apartment today. This was something he always knew he had to do, but didn’t know if he wanted to. Well, he did know. He absolutely wanted to stay hidden away from the world for the rest of time. But… Logan turned on his phone, to reread the message he had gotten. Emile wanted to see him, and they were going to meet up at a café. His text was… long and hard to parse through. Even though Logan had trouble discerning tone a majority of the time, they got the sense that Emile was more excited about this than Logan would be able to be. After looking at themself in the mirror for entirely too long, washing the dried blood from his neck, and getting dressed, he left the apartment. Logan struggled locking the door, having to try about six times, and just hoped that no one would notice long enough for him to appear normal. 

He was on the second floor, defined by a walled off balcony wrapping around the exterior of the building to connect each apartment to a shared space. Logan was about to reach the stairs down when a man walked into him. Or perhaps it was his fault, it was hard to tell really. Logan stepped back, almost affronted by the contact. The person was tall, with thin and long box braids wrapped in a bun. He had rectangle glasses with rounded edges and a smile on his face. It made Logan instantly uncomfortable looking anywhere near his eyes, so they looked away.

“Howdy!” … What? The man continued. “Sorry for bumping into you, that’s my bad. You’re the one who just moved in right? What’s your name?”

This was possibly worse than everything Logan had ever experienced. He wasn’t entirely sure how high (metaphorically) that bar was, but it was probably significant. Logan didn’t respond for a few awkwardly silent seconds. They coughed, preparing his throat to speak. “I’m… I did just move in, yes. My name is Logan. Logan Clay.” Was he doing this right? How were you supposed to tell? The man was still looking at him like he expected something. Logan went through all they remembered from practicing. Oh! Right… “What’s your name?”

“The name’s Patton Nasir, neighbor!” He reached out his hand, looking… concerned(?) when Logan instinctively flinched away. Patton quickly retracted his hand before Logan even said anything about it, placing it gracefully on his hip. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Logan! I live just next door. 214. So if you need help with anything, I’m always there for you.”

Was this genuine? Was there a way to tell? Logan just nodded. “Thank you, Patton. I’ll be sure to contact you if such a situation arises. I have to go now.”

Patton laughed. Logan just stared slightly to the left of his face, almost simulating true eye contact with his neighbor. “Of course, I didn’t mean to keep you, buddy. I hope you have a good day!”

He waved and walked past Logan, who just stood there as the conversation left the air, reminding themself to breathe. His neck still hurt, as if his splenius capitis would burn whenever he moved his head. Logan shook his head, despite knowing the action only exacerbated the pain. Logan finally got to continue walking to meet Emile, walking down the concrete stairs with a sense of urgency. He made sure to look at the directions on his phone so he wouldn’t get lost. Perhaps he looked at them a little too frequently. It took just about ten minutes and forty three seconds to reach the café. A local establishment with a patio that contained three tables. Two of those three had striped umbrellas over them. 

Emile was sitting at the table holding a disposable cup with a lid, presumably filled with coffee. It was as much of a relief as a great anxiety to finally see him. Logan walked up to the table with a sense of urgency that wasn’t shared with their companion. Emile smiled easily, his scrunched nose lightly displacing his glasses. 

“Hello, Logan! Do you how do?” He greeted.

If this were any other individual, Logan would be concerned at the nonsensical manner he held himself with. But this was Dr. Emile Picani, the only person he truly knew. The only person who knew… Logan. Himself. Logan nodded. “I’m doing adequate, Emile. Should I… order something too?”

“Not if you don’t want to.” Emile responded simply. “Did you have breakfast yet?”

Logan froze. He did a mental check of his body. His neck screaming (metaphorically), his hands still shaking, his stomach… People were supposed to eat regularly. He knew that. Logan was told that, and they knew that they had to do that too. Fuck. “I have not had breakfast yet.”

Somehow, Emile could read his tone, even when Logan himself could not. He frowned. “Logan… have you eaten anything since you left the hospital yesterday?”

“I drank water.” He supplied, as if that was a perfect substitute.

Emile stood up, the metal chair screeched loudly, and suddenly Logan had to resist the urge to drag his nails through the skin of his ears. “Let’s get you some coffee.”

Who was Logan to disobey? Emile ordered for him, and assured him of what he had gotten. Black coffee and a simple sandwich. They sat back down together. Logan drank the bitter drink, but mostly because it was expected of them. Despite the casual setting, the public atmosphere, this was a meeting. Logan knew that. Emile was acting like this because Logan didn’t know how to act yet. He appreciated it immensely. Logan started eating the sandwich, with dry bread and bland ingredients. 

“I’m glad you liked it. You… You used to order this same thing every morning.” Emile looked down, with a smile, but Logan didn’t think he was actually happy. “Anyways! Have you made any new friends yet or unpacked yet?”

Logan swallowed his food, setting his sandwich back down. He felt all the different components of his neck conflict with one another, reminding him of the constant searing pain that had incapacitated him the day before. A pain that wasn’t supposed to be there. “No, I haven’t. I thought… I was supposed to keep a low profile?”

It came out like a question, because he felt as though Emile’s questions contradicted the prior instructions he had given. Keep a low profile. Keep the secrets. Stay hidden. Were they intended to balance those objectives with a social life? Interior design? Logan reminded himself to breathe at a consistent pace. That was a lot of rules to uphold all at once, but he could do it. Emile expected them to, and they wouldn’t want to let him down. Not after all he had done for them. Emile just looked confused, similar to how Logan… felt. Hm.

“Logan, I don’t want to keep you from making new connections!” Emile exclaimed, his voice filled with a worry Logan didn’t understand. “Besides, an empty apartment and a lone hermit is… a little more suspicious than, say, hiding in plain sight like Constantine from Muppets Most Wanted.”

He gave back a blank stare. 

“Yeah… I don’t think you’ve ever seen that movie, even before everything.” Emile admitted. “I just mean: it’s going to be better for everyone if you settle down a little bit more, and nurture new friendships with your neighbors. You need to establish friendships and trust or… Or none of this is going to work. Or at least try! If nothing works out, you’ll still be meeting with me here every week! We can figure stuff out.”

It was reassuring, knowing that he wasn’t alone. Logan didn’t really know much about what to do or what he should be like. But Emile did. He really needed the guidance. “Thank you, Emile. I appreciate that. I will… ‘settle down’, when I am able.”

His friend smiled at him, with a type of pride Logan didn’t feel. He was mostly scared of what was going to happen to him. Emile smiled at him like everything was already going perfectly. It wasn’t exactly lying, but it was optimistic. Even though it was confirmation that the two were in this together, Logan still felt uncomfortable.

Emile left first, having the obligations of a job. He was working part time at a lab while he worked on his psychology degree. Logan… had a job. It was more freelance. They didn’t start until the next day. Logan collected the leftover dishes and trash, walking back inside to put them where they belonged. The plates went on a stack of other dishes also used that day, while the trash went into the nearest trash receptacle. He looked around, as if someone was there to tell him he did a good job. The only person there was a barista with sunglasses on scrolling on vaer phone with minimal interest. Vaey looked up at Logan, raising an eyebrow. Logan felt uncomfortable instantly and decided to leave. 

They spent the rest of the day organizing their new living space. The boxes didn’t contain a whole lot. Emile told him that he would have to go shopping on his own to accommodate anything that was missing. Logan suspected that Emile got him a job for that exact reason. So they could be more self-sufficient. Ironic, that Logan wouldn’t be able to do any of this without him. Logan thought this over while figuring out where to put their skillets and pans. He eventually took a break to eat, something he was determined not to forget again. Logan hadn’t cooked much before so settled for an oatmeal mix that Emile had packed him. They were not a big fan of the flavor. They ate it anyway. Logan had finished washing the two dishes he had used when someone had knocked on the door. His headache, well all of his aches really, were still bothering him profusely. But he was supposed to make connections right? 

Patton was holding a ziploc bag when Logan opened the door. The man was smiling, as if it was his default expression. He held it out to them. “I meant to give these to you yesterday, but… I’m giving them to you now! They’re chocolate chip cookies so I can take them back if you’re gluten free or allergic to chocolate or-”

He was just as nervous as Logan was. It didn’t seem to click until that moment. Logan took the back from his hands and looked up at Patton. “Thank you, for welcoming me to the neighborhood. You seem like a kind person, Patton.”

They didn’t really intend to cut off whatever Patton was talking about, but he didn’t particularly seem to mind. “Of course, thank you for the compliment! We’re going to start a whole chain of ‘thank you’s if we keep this up. I can’t wait to get to know you.”

Patton left after that, but what he had said ringed in Logan’s ears. 

I can’t wait to get to know you.

He repeated this as he got dressed for bed. He repeated it as he brushed his teeth. As he stared into the mirror for too long. As they put their glasses on the box they were using as a nightstand. Logan couldn’t wait to know himself too. They reminded themself to breathe, and continued to do so until it became even again. I can’t wait to get to know you. What a polite, kind thing to say to a stranger. 

Logan took a long deep breath in as he dug his fingers into the back of his neck. He gagged, feeling himself breathe heavier and faster. The skin between his spine and skull shifted to make room for the change. They searched around the blood and nerves, until latching to a specific cord. It resisted his grasp as Logan repressed the urge to flail. Clawing, clawing, clawing. He pulled the cord out slowly, feeling it rake against his organic matter. It collected blood as the end finally surfaced. Logan took a heavy breath, letting himself collapse forwards. A second was needed to catch his breath, to calm themself down. He wiped the blood off the cap protecting the end, before taking it off. Logan then plugged the cord into the glowing box underneath his bed. They felt the jolt of electricity enter their body as the cord began glowing a soft orange that mirrored the box.

Laying on their side, facing away from the box, was the only comfortable way to sleep. Not that they imagined they would do much of that. Despite trying, Logan didn’t feel fully human. Because he wasn’t, not really. Not like Emile, not like Patton. But he did wonder. Would this ever stop hurting? Would he ever stop hurting? Being a human was constantly being in pain. At least, that’s what it seemed like. Logan attempted to halt their thinking as they ignored the heat emanating from their neck, and the frantic breaths drawn for their lungs.

AO3 Link Here!

Janus had decided he was not much of a poet. He liked poetry, of course, but he never really did anything with it. Sure, he had an urge to write out his feelings whenever they became too much, but isn’t that what everyone did? There has to have been a narrator torturing a character just to not feel alone at least once, right? But even with this all in mind, Janus was definitely not a poet. None of his words rhymed, metaphors were decidedly not his forte, and he only felt angry and tired. This didn’t stop him from pretending to experience positive emotions. Or to vent about it quietly in a worn notebook. He closed the book and hid it underneath some of his Decartes books, and sat up to stretch.

He knew that even though no other sides bothered to come into his room, he felt the need to hide everything that revealed a personality. Janus wasn’t comfortable with the idea that people could know who he is and how he became that way. The idea of people watching or studying him, for any reason whatsoever, was terrifying. And no one was allowed to know. Janus readjusted his capelet and hat before walking out his door and disappearing.

‘For any simple reason, I must hide who I am. It doesn’t matter how small or silly it may seem, but mysteriousness calls my name. Guess my natural hair color, guess my age, guess my favorite food. Nothing will be given for free. Fight to know me or suffer along with me and my hesitance.’

The living room was full of sides all quietly sitting in different areas, looking different degrees of uncomfortable. Virgil raised his eyebrow at Janus as he walked it. Janus decided to ignore the knots in his stomach as everyone else stared at him. Of course, Roman immediately went  to sink out, without making direct eye contact.

“Oh, it’s Patton’s best friend,” Virgil remarked to a Logan who wasn’t paying attention. That’s when Patton walked in. He was gripping his mug tightly, almost as tight as his forced smile. Janus noticed him shaking but trying to stay calm. Virgil looked over to Patton. “And the liar’s friend too, how nice.”

“Kiddo, you’re still my best pal!” Patton’s voice was waning slightly. Janus went to grab the mug, half wondering if Patton was strong enough to crack it. When Virgil scoffed to hide his own tears, Patton’s grip softened, allowing Janus to grab it. He didn’t really want to get involved with all the problems that were going on, nothing he did would specifically help anyway, but it would feel worse if he did nothing. “Virgil, I care about you a lot! I, I love you. What am I doing wrong?”

Janus, at this point, was walking away, but decided to stop. He had asked himself that question too many times in regards to Virgil. It was frustrating to care about someone when they wouldn’t talk to you without yelling in your face.

“That’s your job isn’t it? To know what’s wrong?” Virgil scoffed. Janus clenched his fist and decided to go back to his room. “Though I don’t know how good you are at it.”

Later Janus found himself knocking on Patton’s door with a small plate of dinner. He had no idea if Patton ate with the others or not, but walked in anyways. Patton was crying silently into a pillow. When he noticed Janus, he quickly wiped his tears and gave a smile. Janus decided to close the door, place down the food, and open up his arms. Patton collapsed into the hug, sobbing into his shirt. Janus wasn’t used to people being vulnerable around him. Everyone was so on guard whenever he showed up, because of the innate lack of trust. What had he done to get Patton to be like this?

“Patton, you are going to be alright,” Janus soothed, not quite knowing if he was lying or not. He ran his hands through Patton’s hair softly. His emotions didn’t matter in this, and he knew that. Right now, Patton was being comforted and that’s what was important. “Everything will be fine. I won’t leave you. I’ll be here for as long as you need me to be.”

And he, true to his word for once, stayed until Patton fell limp in his arms from exhaustion. Janus quietly tucked him in and walked out. That was enough vulnerability for a while. Virgil was outside the door, holding cookies on a plate. Janus looked at him and blinked away any facial expression that could occur. Virgil tried to shove past him and into Patton’s room but Janus blocked with pseudo-nonchalantly.

“Believe it or not, Anxiety,” Virgil glared at him. “Patton has decided to rest from an emotionally taxing day. I suggest you wait until tomorrow.”

“What do you know, Deceit?” He asked, looking directly at him. Janus resisted the urge to look away. He hadn’t really liked eye contact that much and opted only to use it when necessary. “You’re kind of new to being friends with people without manipulating them.”

Janus was not a poet, but he had some choice words he wanted to use. Patton was sleeping, now was not the time for yelling. So, he took a deep breath and tried to collect his thoughts in a way that Virgil could understand. “You are not the person who decides who I am. That’s me. And I am friends with Patton, and today you hurt him a lot. So I would appreciate it, if you took your self-righteous bullshit and realized that just because you’re a light side, doesn’t mean you don’t need change. Patton is working so hard on himself, and not judging others too harshly and you’re so quick to shoot down anything he does. Just let him sleep before forcing him to deal with yet another guilt trip from an emo raccoon. Okay?”

He decided not to wait for a response, not sure if he was going to get one regardless.

Janus just hoped that Patton was sleeping better than he was going to be.

‘Every single thing I experience feels like the end of the world. By the time I was thirteen I was convinced that I wouldn’t live past my own birthday. Who would’ve thought I was growing to be an edgy adult with a yellow and black color scheme? I stand up for myself and think it’s a death sentence and have the same reaction when I do nothing. The world is ending and I didn’t save it.

The plane is crashing, and I’m looking down at the sand like everything is okay.’

Janus was around Patton a lot. Because of this, he noticed that no one else seemed to communicate with him, aside from Remus. He certainly wasn’t expecting Patton and Remus to get along, but it was a nice surprise. Janus didn’t expect to have a growing friend group so quickly. If quickly meant over the course of several years. Still, surprising nonetheless.

They were all in Patton’s room, watching an animal documentary together. Remus was on the floor, enjoying whenever an animal got killed somehow or learning a gross fact eating a mixture of rocks that vaguely looked like corn kernels. Patton was on his bed, hugging a stuffed animal tightly, smiling whenever cute moments showed up and hid during everything else. Janus was kind of just there because… well he wasn’t entirely sure, but he did enjoy popcorn from time to time. Perhaps more often if it meant hugs and cuddles from his friends. Remus had grabbed his leg at one point, and Patton was basically suffocating his arm. But he refused to change anything about it.

He didn’t know where Virgil was and was too tired to pretend he didn’t care. Janus was originally planning to keep it to himself when his most annoying and lovable companion spoke.

“Yo, Snake-Ass!” Remus yelled, Patton looked up from under his blankets in confusion. His glasses were slightly askew and Janus would’ve melted if he weren’t so consumed by worry. “You haven’t made a single response to all of my wonderful commentary about this delightful kid’s film in the past forever! What is up your butt?”

Patton was about to chide, but decided to stop himself. Janus almost felt proud of his growth. “I, I would like to know that too, Janus. Are you okay?”

A sunfish was the center of the screen being eclipsed by two faces peering at Janus. “Oh, I’m totally fine, don't worry about it.” The two gave him looks that clearly told him his doublespeak wasn’t working out. Janus groaned. The two morons have gotten way too close to him and he despised it. Clearly. “Virgil hasn’t been… present in a while. I would totally be concerned about him but I… I don’t know what he wants from me.”

“From you?” Patton repeated, fixing his glasses.

“Oh, definitely hate sex.” Remus blurted with a short nod. When there wasn’t an immediate response he shrugged. “Or he’s jealous that you decided to finally move on from whatever happened between you two and he hasn’t yet.”

That was certainly a way to look at it. But Janus didn’t know if he had moved on yet. Sure, he had grown past it. But moved on? How can he say he was fine with what transpired when sometimes he would wake up in angry, bitter tears? When Janus still wanted to wrap his arms around Virgil just to be nearby? Janus was hurt. Not as much as he used to be, but he still missed his friend. He missed Virgil.

“You think he’s jealous? Why?”

Patton leaned on Janus’s shoulder. “I think that he’s afraid. Not of you, but that we won’t like him anymore. That doesn’t make up for what he said to you, or… or to me. But we shouldn’t discount that he’s jealous that we’re friends because he doesn’t want to lose anyone. Or, or maybe I’m projecting. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, daddy.” Patton immediately sat up, red in the face. Remus didn’t seem to notice. “This is something that Virgil has to deal with. It is not your responsibility.”

The three stayed silent. The documentary was reaching its end but none of them cared. Patton slowly put his blanket over them all, placing himself in the middle. Remus put his arm around Patton’s shoulders, and Janus discreetly pretended not to place his hand on his thigh. He eventually cleared his throat. “Do you think the others will still want to be my family? Even though I’m with you guys now? I know it was the right choice, being with you both. But what if Roman, Logan, and Virgil don’t talk to me unless I give up you two? I don’t want to lose my family. Either part of it.”

“I don’t know, Patton.” Janus responded. “I can’t promise that you won’t have to decide, but I won’t force you to.”

Remus squeezed Patton’s shoulder, in a quiet show of support. Patton gave a weak smile. When the documentary finished, the three of them were cuddling on Patton’s bed, appearing asleep. Though it was hard to tell with figments of someone’s imagination. The credits rolled with an orchestral song playing softly with them. Janus leaned into Remus while holding Patton’s hand limply. The blanket was almost completely stolen by Patton somehow but if the other’s minded, they were too asleep to notice. Janus woke up, seeing that at some point the TV turned off and the world was dark. He blinked to get used to the static from the lack of light, and decided to sit up.

His head was aching slightly but Janus elected to ignore it. Janus looked at Remus and Patton, who were still sleeping. He wasn’t exactly sure when Remus stripped off almost all of his clothes, but he didn’t really care, just pulling the blanket over him so he wouldn’t get too cold. With that, Janus walked out of the room as quietly as he could. He knew that technically he could stay but he wasn’t in the right headspace for feelings for his friends at the current moment. The door closed before Janus could see Patton open his eyes.

‘The world loves to change its tempo whenever I manage to get a hold of it. God forbid I have enough time to apologize. But now I must wallow in pleasant situations worrying about everything I cannot pause to think about.

Time is awfully inconvenient and yet I try to fight it for more. When will it be enough? When can I finally feel peace? When can I rest? I never know what to do when time lingers, but I know that I will make mistakes. I have made mistakes.

Is writing this one of them?’

Virgil was sitting on the stairs when Janus passed by. He stood up quickly and grabbed his circle before sinking down. Janus yelped as he found himself in Virgil’s room, but composed himself. While looking around, Virgil sighed and put his hands in his jacket. Janus straightened his back, looking directly at him.

“So, I’ve been thinking about what you uh, what you said.” Virgil started. Janus denied himself the thought of heckling him. “And, as much as I hate to say it, you’re right. I don’t have to like you, and to be clear, I don’t like you.” There was a pause, Janus looked down. “But, that doesn’t give me the right to be… rude. Me not trusting someone shouldn’t be equivalent to acting like a piece of shit. Now that that’s out of the way… What’s next?”

“What’s next?” Janus repeated. “What’s next is you don’t expect me to accept this immediately. It will take time.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, Patton apologized and you immediately started to date him so I thought this would turn out relatively okay.”

“What?” Janus asked. “Patton and I- we aren’t- I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“And I thought you were a genuine threat.” Virgil huffed, taking his hands out his jacket and carding them through his hair. “Listen, I don’t like you. Don’t hurt Patton and we’ll be on equal footing. Now get out of my room.”

Ignoring the fact that Janus was forcibly pulled into the room, he had something else to say as he walked out. “Have you talked to Patton yet?” Virgil didn’t immediately respond, looking down so Janus decided to assume the answer. “You should. Not that you wouldn’t already know, but Patton misses his ‘best bud’ or something similarly cheesy.”

With that he left. Janus, at another movie night with Remus and Patton didn’t feel like mentioning it. Maybe Virgil’s apology could stay between them for a bit. He didn’t want to ruin his chance at having him as a friend again, despite never willing to admit that he missed Virgil. This time the group had decided to watch Centaurworld, a show for all of them. Cute fun songs, hidden dark lore and intrigue, and the stable fart jokes. Perfect.

Janus leaned on Remus’s chest, his eyelids heavy. Patton put his arm around him, kissing his cheek. He felt himself blush but was too tired to move. Remus ruffled his hair. Janus wondered if Virgil would ever talk to him again, as a friend. Or was everything too late? He thought back to what Virgil said about him dating Patton… It was safe to say that Janus had certainly thought about it before, he was going to think about the cheek kiss for weeks to come. All the tiredness in his brain was lifted as he became aware of how close he was to these two sides. Was that okay? Everything was so fucked up, was this the best time?

“Fuck,” He heard Remus whisper.

“I, uh,” Patton stuttered for a bit. “What’s wrong, Remus?”

Remus hummed, making Janus vibrate slightly uncomfortably. “I think I’m in love with you and Janus.”

He couldn’t imagine the facial expression that either of them were making, Janus was focusing too hard on keeping his own in check. “Thanks for telling me! I… I think I love you two too! Oh, tutu… Sorry, I just, are you going to tell him?”

“I could,” Remus started playing with Janus’s hair, and he subconsciously leaned into it. Janus started legitimately falling asleep. “But he’s dealing with a lot. Being accepted by Thomas and all that’s happening is probably a lot to deal with. Especially for an integral side. Also, I want to know what my favorite daddy has to say about it first!”

Patton coughed from embarrassment. “Well first of all mister, you should probably stop with the names. And second, you are an important side, Remus. I may have been hesitant about you at first, but that wasn’t right of me. You are integral to Thomas.”

“Thanks,” It was so quietly said, Janus wasn’t sure if it was Remus. “Are you going to give me a chance to sweep your DILF self off your feet?”

“Oh, honey, I’m already head over heels!”

While the two laughed, Janus went fully limp and lost consciousness. Hearing that two people he cared deeply about admit their feelings and flirt obnoxiously was entertaining but he was too damn exhausted to care. Janus only hoped they’d remember to tell him about it when he finally woke up.

‘Why must I feel guilty to enjoy things? To take up space? I spend every waking second justifying every single thing about myself. I make up reasons for my existence and why people would hate me for it. But I’m scared. I’m scared to let myself be happy, to let myself breathe or take even a small break.

This isn’t how it should be, but it is. And I don’t know how to change it. Or if I should.’

Everything was going good for Janus, great even! But why did he not feel that? Why wasn’t this enough? Virgil apologized to him, and was also working on himself, which was great, but he missed Virgil. Patton and Remus confirmed that they had crushes on him, but he had yet to get told directly. Logan was acting more passive aggressive, like he was compensating for something. Janus wasn’t exactly sure what it was about, and didn’t feel like pushing it. And Roman… He had to admit that the fallout between him and Roman was almost entirely his fault. Janus just wasn’t sure how to fix that, if he even could. So he mostly just left Roman and Logan alone. In turn, he spent most of his time around Patton and Remus.

“You seem to be mentally distracted many times a day, Janus.. Is there any particular reason for that?” Logan asked. Janus blinked at him in confusion for a few seconds.

“Just have a lot of things on my mind, figuratively.” As he said this, Janus took off his hat to make the statement literal instead. Logan scrunched up his nose and narrowed his eyes. He didn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes today, so Janus put his hat back on. “I don’t understand why you would care about my state of mind, anyway. Don’t you have sides you care about… more?”

“We may… clash, but that doesn’t mean I am not concerned about the overall well being of Thomas, himself. And you are a part of Thomas, logically I’d be concerned about you as well.” Janus raised an eyebrow as Logan seemed very on edge. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t imitate me for a joke, it… I am not fond of that version of myself.”

With that, Logan decided to promptly leave. Janus sat, confused about what had just happened. What exactly was he supposed to gain from that conversation anyways? Janus knew that Logan was not doing well, but he was starting to believe that he was under exaggerating what had been happening with him. Too focused on, well, many other things that might not be as top priority.

Janus was not the person that Logan wanted to see, but Janus still wanted to be there. He knew how he wanted to help Logan, but he would need assistance from… someone else. Unfortunately, this wouldn’t be easy for any parties involved.

‘When the time comes to ask for help, the immediate response is to fight against it. Trying to swim back to shore when you yourself were the one who swam too far, and refusing to scream for a lifeguard. Even though it is someone’s job to help, I am so sure of myself that I can do everything alone, as I have for so many years.

But now? When people would actually listen to my pleas? It is so hard to unlearn something that was taught to me for my own survival. But I do not need to survive off the bare minimum anymore. I am allowed to sit on the shore, watching the waves instead.’

“What do you want?”

“I just want you to help me make coffee.” Janus reiterated once more. Roman was glowering at him, but Janus stood tall. “Along with a paper face mask. One of those that has healthy ingredients and moisturizes your skin or whatever. They aren’t for me, Roman, and I can’t do that myself. Only you can summon things outside of the mind palace.”

“Not the good twin?” Roman spat out. Janus winced, he knew that Remus could also summon as well, but admitting that he wanted all the other sides to like him would be… embarrassing. Not to mention all the fighting going around with everyone in general. “What schemes are you even going to do with these things? Why do you think I would want to help you?”

He didn’t know how to respond, but Roman was right in a way. Right to be suspicious of someone who treated him badly, and pretended like it never happened. Janus would have to accept that he couldn’t win back the trust he broke. “I’m not going to say that you have to trust me, I just want to make the situation… improved.”

“... you make us better…” Roman muttered to himself, seeming to echo something. Janus thought back to any previous interaction they’ve had but couldn’t recall where the phrase was from. Roman took a breath which ended in exhaling with a shudder. He felt like he should step closer, give words of comfort, but he knew not to. Janus turned around, knowing that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted but he felt something lightly hit his back. When he looked on the ground, it was a back of ground coffee beans and a box. Janus looked at the prince. “Cream masks are more effective. I don’t forgive you for what you’ve done, but you’re not a villain.”

“You’re not either.” Janus replied.

Roman sniffed and wiped his face. “Sure.”

Later, Janus gave the gifts to Logan with a short apology and awkwardly left to collapse on his bed. He told Remus and Patton about the exchange a few hours later, who seemed proud of him. It had been a while since he had felt truly proud of his own actions and it was nice to have support. While lying in between the sleeping Patton and Remus, Janus idly wondered how Thomas was feeling.

‘At one point in life, I got too tired of the world. I wanted to give up, but I spent the last of my energy on being kind. Some people live their entire lives without knowing just how hard it is to be nice. It truly sucks being a good person and trying to be good to yourself as well. Terrible.

But at the same time, I appreciate the things others do just a bit more, and that makes me want to try too if they can. Maybe kindness deserves my energy.’

The world took a long time waking Janus up. He was still surrounded by the warmth of two other sides. Nothing was perfect but he could pretend that it was while curling into Patton’s chest with Remus’s arm draped over him in a way that should not be possible if he has bones in his body. Still, nothing could remain. Remus stirred and reset his arm to look functioning once more with a terribly loud snap that woke up Patton. Janus let himself fall off of Patton and rested his back on the bed while looking up at the ceiling. He felt the peace of an early morning for a few seconds before Remus interrupted it loudly.

“Janus do you want to have sex with us?”

“What.” Janus sat up too fast and loud at Remus with exasperation.

Patton looked very embarrassed. “He didn’t mean it… exactly like that. But, I, we… have found out recently that we both really like you, romantically-”

“Or sexually!” Remus added.

His eyes darted between the two, officially woken up and just KNOWING that his hair looked like shit. “You two will discover the death of me one day.” Patton looked concerned while Remus looked excited about the prospect. “To clarify that, I would just absolutely despise dating the two of you.”

Janus opened his arms for a hug and got toppled into the dog pile he was anticipating. Who knew that he would’ve felt so comfortable around two of the most eccentric sides Thomas has to offer? And, just as he thought that, he was forcibly summoned and barely had enough time to grab his hat.

“Woah, this too early?” Thomas asked. He looked tired, which wasn’t ever surprising. Janus snapped on the rest of his outfit and gave a look trying to convey that Thomas should just get on with it already. “Oh, well… I just have a feeling or two that you’re causing something in my brain.”

“Janus can only cause things in your brain, as he is a part of you Thomas.” Logan clarified. Janus jolted back in surprise, not noticing he was there before turning to see that Roman and Virgil were there as well. “You should really be clearer with the information you’re trying to get across.”

“Which is that your slimy snake boy is changing a lot of shit up.” Virgil summed up. Janus didn’t necessarily disagree, a lot of this seemed out of character for him, but he didn’t love being villainized even more. “I mean, you saw that he was wearing colorful socks with a cartoon turtle pattern on them, right?”

Roman nodded, pointing at Virgil slightly. “I did notice that! I didn’t know if anyone else had caught that.”

“Let’s focus up!” Thomas said. “What have you been up to, dude? My mental health is actually improving and that’s weird.”

“Yes and we all know that I’m solely in charge of that.” Janus deadpanned. “I definitely didn’t focus on your growth as a person because of mistakes that might have been made and that changes how I react to things. That would be strange, wouldn’t it?”

With no one knowing how to respond, Janus wanted to fill the silence. “I don’t care if none of you in this room forgives me, because I was just doing my job, but I can’t deny that there were better ways to go about things that I didn’t originally know about. I am self preservation and recently part of preserving the self gives to caring about other people, because Thomas is trying his best to be a good person despite my best efforts. Am I good to go now that I’ve given my MOST heartfelt speech?”

“You can do what you want, buddy.” Thomas replied, he seemed to be thinking a lot of things through. Janus made eye contact with Logan who nodded at him, then to Roman who gave a small weak smile. Before sinking out, he looked at Virgil. Virgil’s eyes looked vacant for a second before looking back at him. Janus didn’t know how to feel, he wasn’t a poet and didn’t know how to put any of his emotions into words.

But he sank out and felt the need to cry, out of relief perhaps, and was comforted by a hug from his new significant others. Janus didn’t know what he was doing, he never really did. Patton rubbed circles into his back while Remus held Janus’s head softly to his chest. He was trying really hard to be better, and it was so hard. Everything felt difficult when trying something new. He knew he had to try though, because this was worth it. Janus cried for what felt like hours, and when he was cleaning his face with water, he looked at his reflection and gave himself the smallest, honest smile.

‘The winds are quiet and I am watching the seashore. Others are collecting shells, or swimming, or surfing, but I am content where I am. The world is finally quiet and I am learning to understand that I have an important place in it.

Everything is cruel, and horrible, and dangerous. But it is also hopeful, nice, and working to be better. And here I am, in what feels like the middle of it all overwhelmed. Everything feels like too much, so I cannot possibly imagine it all, and I hope I never will. I am tired and cruel and kind, and I’m not going to stop trying to improve. I’m worth the effort.’