Work Text:
Inspired by and written for this work of art.
“Dagnabbitt, come on, just get up there will you?” Patton scolds his belongings as he tries for a third time to get the puppet to look right hanging on the closet door coat hook without slipping off again. He’s got a little collection going and getting the position right will make it just perfect. There’s a thump and a quick knock and the door opens behind him before he can answer.
“Patton! Oh, thank goodness you’re in here, I was starting to worry.”
Patton jumps, blinking at Janus.
“You were?” he asks.
“Oh! No, I mean, I wasn’t actually worried at all, I just…” Janus trails off as his eyes catch on the frilly green puppet hanging crooked on the hook.
“Whatcha got there, Patton?”
Patton stares at him wide-eyed for a moment before laughing.
“Uh, what, this? Hah, well, not a smoothie, that’s for sure. Come on in.”
THREE DAYS EARLIER
“Nico, wait-”
“I’m sorry, Thomas. I don’t know what else I can say. This is my dream job. And it sucks that it’s in California, but if that’s what it takes… It wouldn’t be fair to keep you tied down with me when I can’t even be here for you.”
“You don’t get to make that decision for me!”
“I-” Nico paused, then nodded. “You’re right. But I can make it for me.” He stood there next to his car, worrying the inside of his mouth and waiting for Thomas to do something, say something. But he was just staring down at the parking lot pavement, jaw clenched. Nico broke the silence one more time.
“I gotta go. Bye, Thomas.” He got into his car and Thomas realized he couldn’t handle watching him drive away so he stalked down the two stalls to his own car and got in, slamming the door. He waited five minutes until he was sure he’d be gone by now, turned the key, and drove home. Worst Saturday afternoon ever.
SATURDAY EVENING
Virgil is pacing.
He’s been pacing for an hour and to be perfectly frank, he’s getting a cramp in his leg. He wrestles open his door and heads for the kitchen to hydrate, but a sound-
That sound stops him dead in his tracks. He just stands there in the hallway, Patton’s door to his right, and listens. He takes a deep breath. It’s weird how someone else’s pain can get you out of your head for a second; he’s almost grateful. He turns toward the sound of crying and knocks gently.
“Patton?” As he waits by the door, it almost sounds like Patton’s talking, but he can’t make out the words. The pure emotional energy radiating off the door pulls at his heart strings and he can’t help but want to help. He turns the knob and swings the door open carefully.
Patton is lying on his bed, curled up and facing away from the door. He’s half submerged in a pile of all his favorite plushies and he’s mumbling something in between sobs.
“- thought --- sai- ---s wou-- work-”
“Patton?” He tries again. “Did you say something? Are you okay?”
Patton sniffs hard and starts coughing. He shoves something into his khaki pocket like he’s being discrete and if Virgil sees, he doesn’t mention it.
“Did you need something?” Patton asks too sharply, his voice cracking in the middle of the question. At Virgil’s silence, he starts again, tucking back into himself even tighter. “I’m sorry. I’m, uh,” he coughs again, never turning around. “I’m okay. Not great. You- you know how it is.”
Virgil clicks his tongue, hesitating. He goes to the bed in starts and stops, and manages to sit on the edge of it without jostling Patton too much. Patton doesn’t look at him once.
“Hey, there…” He puts a hand on one of the arms wrapped around no less than three teddy bears. “Pop-star. It’s gonna be okay. Please don’t cry. I really can’t handle it when you cry. Not that you shouldn’t cry! I just mean- you shouldn’t be sad- I mean, you shouldn’t have a reason to be sad- argh! Is this working?!” Virgil rubs his face, feeling the edge of that familiar unease start to creep in. A wet chuckle makes him peek through his fingers.
Patton’s damp face is smiling.
“Yes. Maybe not as you intended.” He laughs again and Virgil relaxes with a heave. Patton wiggles around in the pile, tossing plushies in all directions until he’s upright and hugging Virgil tightly. “Thank you.” Virgil squeezes him back just as hard, thinking about all the times one of them has cried before. Memories already? Fucking room.
“You know I would do anything for you, right, Pat? We all would.” They sit like that for a few moments. And if Virgil notices the nostalgia ratcheting up his anxiety ever so slightly, he doesn’t mention that either.
When they part, Patton just stares down at his hands and sniffles. Virgil looks around the bed, gritting his teeth over and over. He spots a swatch of plaid and pulls it out of the jumble. It’s a nearly perfect replica of his puppet self.
“Pat, did you make this? It’s really good.” He makes a faux-serious face at Patton. “Like, creepy good.” He breaks the face and chuckles, pulling another smile out of his friend. They sit in silence again until Patton just-
“It just isn’t fair, right?” He looks up at Virgil. “It’s just not. We did everything right, I did everything right! He loved us, loves us. And a job, just- takes that all away?”
Virgil nods, listening. Is it hot in here? God, I forgot how much I hate it in here.
“It’s, it’s, it’s preposterous ! Tell that one to Logan! Preposterous! It’s perfectly preposterous that such a pairing should be picked apart by a panu- penoochi- penuciary problem!”
“Penuciary?” Virgil blinks.
“It’s something to do with money, but I don’t quite remember.”
“That can’t be right-”
“The point is, is! Well, I don’t know what the point is. Maybe that’s the point. There’s so much chaos and I just keep failing to keep control of any part of it so, what- exactly!- is the fucking point?”
The absurdity of Patton cursing combines with the tightness taking hold of Virgil’s chest and he barks out a laugh, slapping a hand over his mouth.
“Sorry! Sorry…”
Patton just shakes it off with a nod, and gently takes the puppet from Virgil. He stares at the mismatched button eyes.
“Do you think… Was this the last time I was helpful? Like, really “helpful”?”
“When you were a paper bag puppet ?”
“ Oomph !” Patton gets pushed back into the plushies by a crushing hug. The smell of Virgil’s hoody and his muffled yelling makes him grin in spite of himself.
“You are always helpful! How dare you ask such a ridiculous question! What the hell! You help me every single day! And who says you have to be helpful anyway!”
Virgil sits up and grabs Pat by the shoulders.
“Why don’t you let someone help you for once? What do you want?”
Patton chews his lip and thinks real hard. Virgil waits so patiently.
“...I have an idea.”
SUNDAY MORNING
Patton’s whistling in the kitchen as he pops a frozen waffle into the toaster. He woke up feeling on edge and maybe a little reckless. Maybe it’s a two waffle morning. He glances into the living room at the ball of sadness in red jammies on the couch and decides to cook up the whole box.
Roman’s laying on his side on the couch with one foot skirting the edge of the coffee table, fluffy red slippers threatening to knock over the cold tea he’s forgotten while he surfs his phone. He’s been wearing his pajamas since they got home from the mall last night, and he has no intention of changing out of them now. Something smells good, though.
Logan walks in, fully dressed (there’s at least one necktie involved), and furrows his brow. There’s Roman, a figurative man of sorrow, as expected after the events of yesterday. But Patton looks surprisingly… energetic? He’s bouncing around opening all the drawers and shutting them again without grabbing anything.
“Good morning, everyone.” Logan pulls two coffee cups out of the cabinet.
Roman starts mumbling and it’s not clear if he’s responding to Logan or just ranting at the world in general. “ Good for shit sun, bane of my existence, why do we even have windows- ”
“Virgil doesn’t need a mug today, Lo. I checked on him before I came down, he’s sleeping in.” Patton stares at the waffles cooking in the toaster, fingers tapping the counter incessantly.
“Oh. Understandable.” Logan puts one mug back, and pours his drink. They set the table together in silence and sit down to an unreasonably high stack of waffles. Why did he make so many? Logan frowns when Roman makes no apparent effort to join them.
“Roman, you should eat something. By your appearance, you’ve been up all night.”
The couch lump yells out, “I’ll eat when I’m dead!”
“I believe the saying is, ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead.’ and, no, you won’t. Your body would no longer be able to digest food.”
“It would if I was a zombie! And- and I’ll go to California- and I’ll eat the brains of all the dead-beat heartbreakers in San Jose County! Yeah!”
“That’s the spirit, Roman.” Patton cheers him with a forkful of waffles before shoving it into his mouth. Logan turns his hands palms-up at him in a silent, what the hell?
“What?” he says around his food. “It’s nothing more than he deserves.”
“Who?” asks Logan. “Roman or Nico?”
“Both. Both? Yeah, both.”
“That’s a little dark, don’t you think? Wishing for death and murder? And cannibalism?” He almost makes a reference to Remus, but thinks better of it with Roman in earshot.
Patton doesn’t reply, focusing on his breakfast. His leg is bouncing under the table. Logan acts nonchalant and starts to eat.
“Are you… feeling alright, Patton?”
“Yup.”
“We had an emotional day yesterday.” He tries to watch Patton inconspicuously from over the lip of his coffee. “Maybe Janus will have some self-care tips that would be beneficial, for all of us.”
Hiiiiiisss! from the couch.
“Maybe,” says Patton, clearly without any intention of talking to Janus, or Logan, apparently.
“You know, it’s okay if you aren’t quite yourself yet. I’d be more concerned if you were doing fine after what happened-”
“Can you just-” Patton snaps. “Can we talk about something else? Please?”
“Well, to be honest, I find myself unable to truly focus on anything else at the moment. Perhaps if we could discuss what you’re feeling-”
“I’m-!” Patton forks clatters on the plate and he stands, almost knocking over his chair. Logan freezes and even Roman props himself up on an elbow to peer over the top of the couch.
“I’m gonna go check on Virgil.”
They watch him put his dishes in the sink and take the stairs two at a time, stomping until - much too soon to have gone all the way to Virgil’s room - a door slams.
“You’re rushing him, poindexter.” Roman settles back into the cushions, eyes on his phone.
“Maybe you’re right.” Logan sits for several moments, thinking.
“Say, Roman.”
A grunt tells him he’s been heard.
“How would zombies digest meat?”
“Gross, dude, go talk to Remus.”
“ You brought it up!”
SUNDAY NIGHT (or is it Monday morning?)
It’s late and Patton is restless.
He glares down at the purple sock puppet he’s clutching to him. Cuddling with Virgil had seemed to work last night, but now he’s just feeling anxious. And angry.
Why isn’t this working?
Maybe if he had actually changed into his pajamas last night instead of trying to sleep in khakis and a polo… He tosses and turns, trying to find a position that doesn’t make him agitated. When he sees the sky begin to lighten outside his window he growls, tossing the little puppet into the pile of plushies at the foot of his bed. He imagines it’s glaring back at him. He loses track of how long he lays there, a headache slowly growing.
Patton gets up and paces the room a few times. It’s bright out now. On the twelfth loop or so he realizes he’s hungry. How long ago were those waffles?
He makes his way to the kitchen, chugging a glass of water at the sink and spilling a little on himself. He uses the extra to wipe his face with both hands. Sustainable! When he opens his eyes, Logan is walking around the corner.
“Ah, Patton. Have you seen Virgil? I just knocked at his door but he didn’t answer. I haven’t seen him since Saturday and I wanted to see how he was doing before I get too far into my duties today and forget.”
Maybe Logan would help… I’m too emotional.
“Pat?”
Patton realizes he hasn’t responded yet. Logan keeps talking.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way but, did you sleep in your clothes?”
Patton ignores the last question. “Virgil was in my room trying to help me.” Technically true.
“Oh, good!” Logan pauses to smile and frame his question in a way that won’t scare him off. “What were you two working on?”
“Um, well, there’s… supposedly a type of meditation that can be really helpful. But we tried a couple different things. Actually, we’re kinda stuck right now.” Patton bites the inside of his lip and looks at the floor. “Virgil said you wouldn’t mind helping… is that true?” He glances up at Logan, fidgeting.
“Of course! Of course, Patton, what can I do for you?”
Patton hesitates. Finally, he walks up to Logan and takes his hand.
“Okay. I’ll show you.” He leads him up the stairs back to his room, food forgotten.
They enter the disorderly bedroom. Logan notices an old science project and lets out a single laugh. “Memories. We have accomplished so much.”
“You’re not wrong. I just hope it’s been worth it.” Patton sits on the bed and Logan takes his desk chair, looking around.
“Virgil’s not here?”
“What? Oh, he might have gone back to his room to grab something.” Patton picks up the Virgil puppet and shows it to Logan. “Here. This is how he was helping me.”
Logan takes the puppet and studies it. “A remarkable likeness. How was this intended to help?”
“I thought that maybe, since Thomas seemed to figure things better faster when we were puppets, that it might work for me, too.” He shakes his head. “It’s dumb, I know you don’t really think much of the puppet idea, but-”
“Hey, I came around at the end. So, you two were using puppets to talk through the problem? I’ve heard of people using that in therapy, it’s perfectly reasonable.”
“Right, right… well, actually we weren’t really getting anywhere. I was wondering if, maybe, you’d be willing to actually turn back into your puppet form? And we could talk that way.”
Logan jumps at the opportunity. “If you think this would be helpful, I don’t see why not. Should we wait for Virgil to come back?”
“No, I’m sure he can just join in when he gets here.” Patton smiles, looking hopeful. Looking desperate.
“Okay, give me a moment to remember how.” Logan closes his eyes and concentrates. He shrinks down and feels the electricity running through him again. He blinks metallic eye coverings and tests the movement in his arms. “How’s this?”
“You look perfect, Logan!” Patton claps. “Much better than the replica I tried to make.”
“You made one of me also? Very interesting. Beep. I may need your help turning back again, you remember what happened last t-”
Patton waves a hand and Logan stills preternaturally. “Don’t worry, Lo. I remember.” Patton picks him up from the chair and carries him back to the bed, curling around him tightly. “I’m so tired. Let’s take a nap.”
Plushies scattered around the room wobble over and up onto the bed, cuddling in a circle around them and forming a large warm pile. Patton closes his eyes to rest.
MONDAY AFTERNOON
“This isn’t working!”
Patton screams into a pillow, fists gripping it tight. He groans at a pain in his abdomen. That reminds him… He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something small and orange.
“It isn’t fair!” He yells at it. “Where’s the justice in this? When do I get peace? Logan’s all hard edges and metal, this isn’t making me feel better! And holding onto him, it- it makes me think, it-”
For a brief moment, the reality of what’s happening is so startlingly clear. The flash of insight is as sharp and painful as when Logan speaks the hard truth himself. This is wrong. This isn’t helping anyone, I need to stop. This isn’t going to fix anything , it’s wrong, wrong, wro-
Patton grabs one ductwork arm and throws the metal puppet away from him with a clatter. Plushies scatter around the room. The little purple puppet is still sat at the foot of the bed, it’s little sock mouth open as if in shock. But he- it hasn’t moved, right? It can’t. Patton nudges it off the bed with his foot. He feels Logan’s compulsive reasoning slowly fading but not before he realizes the problem.
“Of course,” he whispers to no one. “Logic, anxiety. Those are the wrong aspects. So stupid! I need hopes and dreams!
“I need Roman.”
MONDAY NIGHT
We’ll go to dinner. He’ll love that Italian place that’s just a little too far away to go too often. There will be twinkling lights and we’ll sit outside and the air will be perfect. We’ll order whatever we want and when the food comes out wrong, I’ll stand up for him.
Getting Roman to transform into his puppet self had been trivial. Not that he had been excited to do it, he was still too depressed for that. He did it more so because he wanted a distraction just as much as Patton did. He didn’t even ask why. And once Patton was in control, directing his dreams was a cinch. Almost effortless…
“Are you mad?”
“What? No. Everything’s great,” I’ll assure him.
“You were kind of mean to that waitress.”
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” I’ll apologize. “I must be tired. I’ll rest when we get home, let’s just try to enjoy ourselves for now.”
“Okay… What movie are we going to?”
It’s working, incredibly. Finally, he’s able to sleep, to rest.
We’ll walk to the movie theatre down the street. A whine will escape me at a pang in the stomach. Had we eaten? I won’t be able to remember.
“Did we eat?” I’ll ask my date. He’ll laugh.
“Hungry again already? We could go for ice cream after the movie.”
“Good idea. You’re so cute.”
“Cute as those people you’re holding hostage?”
“What?”
I don’t hear what he says, I won’t be able to hear what he says. Try it again.
“I said, cute as those people holding hands over there?” We’ll giggle at the couple we pass on the sidewalk. It’ll be just perfect. It’ll be right. It’ll be what I deserve.
Patton shifts in his sleep.
We’ll walk home together. We’ll pass a flower shop and I’ll pick out his favorite flowers and he’ll be so surprised I remembered. The shop owner will wrap them up and they’ll sparkle with blood- water, they’ll drip with water because they’re so fresh. Why is the shopkeep looking at me like that?
It’s fine, it’ll be fine. This is working. I can make this work, I’ll make this-
The bed shakes hard beneath him and Patton nearly leaps out of it, gasping, “HOT potatoes!” Remus is leaning over him, grinning.
“Morning, aPOPlexy!” There’s spit in his mustache. “Your dreams are boring, even with my adjustments. Wakey, wakey!” Patton is clutching his chest, panting from the shock. It’s dark outside, the contrast stark against the overhead light he’d accidently left on. He’s grateful for it now. He attempts a smile at Remus.
“Was that a pun? Sorry, I don’t get it. What’s apoplexy?”
“One definition for it is when a person suffers a sudden neurological impairment, due to a ruptured blood vessel in the brain . Cool, right?” Remus is still uncomfortably close to his face. Patton sighs, gently pushing him off the bed.
“Yeah, ya know, Remus, I’m actually kinda busy right now?”
“You, too?! Figures.” Remus pouts, zipping around the room and getting into everything within arms reach. “I usually go bother Roman, but I can’t find him anywhere. Janus has been locked in his room working on something for two days now, and he did not like it last time I interrupted. Even the nerd is missing. Maybe they’ve been kidnapped or brutally murdered! Or both!” He giggles maniacally.
Uh oh.
“Ah, bu- uh, well, I’m sure they’ll turn up eventually… kiddo." Smooth, Patton.
Remus stills and raises an eyebrow at the nickname, a whole new insidious smile crossing his face. He crosses his arms and puts a hand under his chin.
“And, just what have you been up to lately, daddy?”
“You better cool it, mister, or…”
“Or what?” Remus snaps his teeth at the end.
“Or… or I won’t show you the super secret project I’ve been working on!” Patton forces the excitement and slaps both his knees to really sell it.
“Ooo! I’m in trigued . Show me, show me. I’ll be good-ish.” He starts bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Patton makes a big show of putting his hands on his hips and thinking really hard, evaluating Remus’ trustworthiness. He finally relaxes and smiles conspiratorially.
“Okay, sit right there!”
Remus hits the floor like a bag of bricks. Patton gets up, stumbling and catching himself on the bedpost as his head spins.
“Ya good there, pops?”
“Yeah, I was just woken up out of a deep sleep, Remus. And I’ve got a killer headache.” He looks around the room, picking out two items in particular and bringing them to sit with Remus on the floor. In his hands are a plush acid-green octopus and a fuzzy yellow snake wearing a bowler. Remus snatches them away, squishing the soft fabric.
“These are stand-ins,” Patton explains. “I wanted to see if I could come up with puppet versions of you and Janus, like the rest of us have. Something that would be totally uniquely you. But I should have just asked you! Silly me.”
“ Fascinating! You really should have, I have just so many ideas.” Remus’ gaze goes distant as he imagines something most-assuredly horrible. Patton continues.
“It’s really not fair that you didn’t get to show off a puppet form, Remus, I bet yours woulda been great!”
“Damn right, it would’ve! Roman’s was so boring . I could do much better.”
“Hey, I have an idea!” Patton puts a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you show me ? I’d love to see it.”
“ Really? Okay, okay, hold on.” Remus giggles again and screws up his face. “What to be, what to be… I’ve got it!” One small explosion and a sulfuric puff of smoke later and..
“Huh.” Patton is begrudgingly impressed as he waves a hand over the place where Remus once sat. “That is surprisingly wholesome. Good job, kiddo!” The puppet thrashes around wildly, bulging out in strange places. Patton waves again, concentrating.
“Ah, ah! No, you don’t.” He’s a little out of breath from the effort, but that’s alright. He scoops the new puppet off the floor and slowly gets to his feet.
EARLIER ON THE “OTHER” SIDE
“Remus?” Janus opens the bedroom door without looking up from his papers, brushing aside the familiar wave of chaos. “It took time but I think I’ve come up with some solid strategies for this whole “break-up” nonsense, that Thomas may even actually consider. Would you take a look…? Oh. I’m talking to an empty room.” He purses his lips, shutting the door and heading downstairs.
But the commons are also empty. So is the kitchen.
“Hmm.” He sets his plans down on the table and keeps looking.
The patio, empty. The bathroom, empty. His own bedroom, unsurprisingly, empty. Remus’ bedroom again. Janus peers at the door to the Imagination, but, no. There’s no new kill prediction written on the frame; Remus likes to set goals, you see. Are they occasionally just random numbers he finds funny and in no way attempts to meet? Does the number sixty-nine exist ? Yes, and yes. No new number means he’s not in there. Probably. Janus adjusts his hat and crosses his arms.
“Hm.”
Back in the kitchen, Janus sets a kettle on the stove and waits for Remus to appear. “Where could he be…” He watches at the kettle as it starts to scream.
He takes his tea to the dinner table and stares at his plans unseeing. The peace had been nice when he needed it, but now the quiet was… unsettling.
Could he be with him ? No, surely not, he knows better.
“Wait, no he doesn’t.” Janus realizes with a jolt, looking around the room. He’s jumps to his feet, rushing up the stairs. He stalks down the hallway toward the last door, that door. A chill runs through him at the thought and for a moment his eyes play tricks on him, but-
“Good. Good,” he says breathlessly to the padlock still hanging squarely around the latch.
‘Good, it’s fine. He’s still in there, and Remus isn’t.” He smooths down his clothes. He starts to turn back, really, he does. This door was a deadend in more ways than one, he can leave, should leave. He’ll just start walking away. Right now. Gotta go find Remus. One problem, though; he can’t stop staring at the lock. Why does it look wrong ? He’s squinting at it, trying to figure out what feels off. There’s not a smudge on it, not a scratch on the door. The rage flowing off the door is starting to make his insides twist in a knot.
“He’s definitely still in there. Right?” Janus slowly pulls the keys from his pocket. His shaking hand makes them jingle. “I’ll just… check. To be sure.” He reaches for the lock and it’s like he’s moving through water. He can’t tell if he’s breathing. The lock seems so much farther away than it should be. His hand wraps around the cold metal. He pulls to angle it for the key and it… slides open in his hand.
“Fuck.”
Janus yanks the lock off and flings open the door. One more bedroom is revealed, messy, dark, and once again, empty. “ Fuck! ”
He goes back through each of the rooms, leaving all the doors open behind him. Bedroom, closet, bathroom, bedroom, another closet, the commons, the kitchen, the patio, the hall closet. Hell, he even checks the cabinets.
“Okay, Janus, calm down. Nothing’s happened yet, he’s just not, quite, where he’s supposed to be. The embodiment of righteous fury, justice, and wrath is loose, but it’s fine. I will simply find him . If he’s not here, he must be with the others. And if he was stupid enough to go into the Imagination, the twins will handle him.”
He takes a deep breath, straightening his disheveled cape and hat.
“Don’t. Cause. A panic.”
Janus closes his eyes and appears in the core side’s commons. With no one in sight yet, he checks their kitchen just as he had his own, which is to say he turns it upside down, as well as the hall closet, the commons, and the patio. No one comes to stop him.
It’s late on a Monday night. They’re probably just up in their rooms. Maybe they’re asleep already. Early bird catches the worm, or whatever.
He puts a hand to the stair rail, a wave of trepidation making him pause as he looks up. He takes the stairs one step at a time, the creak of the wood the only sound overriding the blood pounding in his ears. Why does blood do that? He wonders, distracting himself. Maybe Logan will know.
Roman’s room is first, Remus’ second favorite destination. He knocks on the nondescript wooden door that they all instinctively know is creativity’s by the flow of inspiration that’s always rolling off of it. No answer. He knocks again, waiting. Bouncing one leg, the creativity leaking through the door is giving him wild ideas, terrible ideas. He doesn’t want to barge in, he’s got so little good faith to work with here. He almost gives up. He starts walking to Logan’s room next, turns around with a doubt, spins in a circle just once, stops and stands there, huffing. He closes his eyes, fists clenched at his sides.
Stop. Think, Janus. Seconds tick by.
There, a noise! His eyes fly open. It sounds like… cursing? Or at least the language of a person who tries not to curse very often.
“Dag-----tt, c--- --, --st --t up ---- will y--?”
Janus walks past Logan's door down the hall to another nondescript door with the sweet dusty smell of nostalgia flowing off it. A moment of clarity urges him toward Patton’s room. Janus runs to open the door, feeling foolish at how nervous he’s allowed himself to get. He barely remembers to knock before he’s opening the door. The back of a grey cat-eared hoodie greets him.
“Patton! Oh, thank goodness you’re in here, I was starting to worry.”
Patton jumps, blinking at him.
“You were?” he asks.
“Oh! No, I mean, I wasn’t actually worried at all, I just…” Janus trails off when he sees the frilly green puppet Patton is hanging on the hook.
“Whatcha got there, Patton?”
Patton stares at him wide-eyed for a moment before laughing.
“Uh, what, this? Hah, well, not a smoothie, that’s for sure. Come on in.”
Janus steps carefully into the room, looking around at all the knick-knacks he’s rarely gotten to see before and takes a breath in time with the faint pressure of nostalgia. A veritable mountain of plushies rest on the bed, with more scattered around the floor. Patton waves a hand for Janus to take the desk chair while he sits heavily on the edge of the mattress. He wipes a sheen of sweat off his brow. Janus squints.
“Were you… working out?”
“No, no. I guess, kind of, but really I was just overexerting my powers. Remus is difficult to handle, you know.” Patton gives him a tired smile.
“Excuse me?” Janus looks at the puppet again with a raised eyebrow. It undoubtedly bears a striking resemblance to Remus, if you added a little mariachi hat and all his major joints were turned into wooden ball bearings. It hangs crookedly on the coat hook by its sticks and strings. Patton just shrugs.
“I can’t lie to you, Janus. It wouldn’t work anyway. So I’ll be honest.” Patton grins, or grimaces. “I, uh, I haven’t been doing so good since the breakup. But I think I’ve found a solution that works for me, and it would really mean a lot to me if you would play along for a bit. You see-”
As Patton talks, Janus looks around the room again and a tremor goes through him. Reminiscing is one thing but something here feels decidedly unfamiliar. For a moment, his apprehension mixes with the room’s smothering sway and an echo of anguish overwhelms him. He sits in silence and, for all appearances, he’s giving Patton his full attention, but his mind is lost, traveling back to that first day at daycare when Thomas was just convinced that he’d been abandoned there, left behind for good. It had felt like the world was breaking, buried under the smell of crayons and the smooth waxy texture of juice boxes. Pay attention. Janus tries to refocus on Patton’s words, but nothing is coming through. Bring it back. What’s in the room? And this time he sees all the things he missed before: the cracks in the walls, the used tissues heaped around the nightstand, Virgil’s purple plaid sticking out from under the bed skirt-
“So, whaddya think?”
“Huh?” Janus snaps back to attention, feigning a mild offense. “Sorry, what did you just ask me?”
Patton’s right eye twitches just slightly as he grins again. “I was asking you which puppet you thought you might like to be? If you had to choose. I’m not really-” he clenches his fists briefly. “- creative enough to assign one for you. That’s why I needed Remus to tell me what he liked. What a character, I guess he really likes mariachi bands or something.” He looks down at the floor for a second, then stares at the pile of toys on the bed, biting his lip. He looks like he’s about to move when Janus interrupts his thoughts and he turns.
“Patton. Where are the others?”
Patton looks at him like he’d forgotten he was there.
“Uh, well-” he gestures to the closet door. “There’s Remus, like I said. I said that, right? Roman’s here on the bed.” He leans over to pull puppet Roman out of the pile for a second. When he moves his foot he feels something bump against it. He reaches under the bedskirt and lifts the thing up. “Oh, and here’s Virgil. Where did Logan get to… ope, there he is!” Patton points at the corner behind Janus.
Janus turns in his seat to see a robot Logan crumpled in the corner of the room among ripped up letters and a spilled box of polaroids. He swallows.
“Patton…”
“Look, I even got Alec!” Patton drops Virgil to dig around in his pocket and holds up a little wiggly finger puppet of a cartoonishly orange monster on his pointer finger. It’s got two floppy arms raised with three nubby fingers at the end of each, and its sharp-looking rubbery teeth are bared in a silent roar. “He was actually the one to give me the idea! I would never have thought I could control puppets like I do my plushies, but he said why not try? And whaddya know, it worked. He’s so tiny though, I’ve just been carrying him around in my pocket. Small comforts , am I right?” Patton laughs at his own pun as he shoves the finger puppet back into his pocket. He quiets down though, looking hard to Janus now.
“So, what do you think? What kind of puppet would you like to be?”
“Hm, yes. Well, I would very much like to become a puppet and join this little… party, but have you considered-” he taps his two pointer fingers to his chin. “-therapy?’
“Ah,” Patton blinks, tired. “Well. I don’t have a good counter argument for that right now. That’s just not the direction I’m going and I’d like to see this through before we try something else.”
“Please allow me to be blunt- this is bonkers. Did they agree to this? To being your ‘toys’?”
“They agreed to help me, and I just think-”
“Is it helping? Patton? Is it working? Does Logan being left in the corner help you somehow?”
“No, but-”
“And hanging Remus up in the closet? That benefits you?”
“Listen, I-”
“Did they know you were going to trap them like this? Just how long do you expect this to go on?!”
“SHUT! UP!”
They’re both on their feet now, facing each other down. Janus glimpses a baseball on a shelf and can’t help but imagine he’s the away team in this room. Patton raises his left arm and Janus can see it trembling. He looks like he might start crying despite the demented grin he’s plastered on.
“I would really appreciate it if you would work with me here.”
“Give me a good reason to and I will.” Janus takes a step back on instinct. All around the room, stuffed animals are clambering to their feet. A little orange cat takes its place between him and Patton. “That is not disturbing at all .” Janus summons his cane and wields it like a baseball bat. Without another word, Patton waves and the plushies descend upon him.
Breathe!
Janus sucks in a breath and watches the toys approach. What can they really do, anyway? A stuffed puppy launches itself at his leg, sinking very real teeth into his calf. Janus screams, tearing the toy off his leg and throwing it. Blood trickles into the tattered fabric.
“Shit!” He scowls at Patton who doesn’t look back at him as he steps back to collect Roman from the bed. He’s visibly sweating through his polo now. A hiss seizes Janus’ attention back to the battle in front of him before he can heal. The stuffed cat’s teeth are bared, beaded eyes devoid of life. The toys close ranks around him.
“Heeere, kitty-kitty,” he jeers, raising the cane high.
The creature leaps at his face and the cane meets it with a WHUMPH , sending it hurtling through the air. Stuffing erupts from the fabric but it’s a short-lived victory as the rest of the toys swarm. He swings again and again, nearly overrun. They knock him to one knee, getting inside his weapon’s reach. He starts grabbing them and tearing them apart with his two gloved hands, then four, then all six. They climb up his back and pull his cape. He bites a velvet limb and rips it off an unknown combatant. They threaten to suffocate him beneath a pile of cotton and polyester. His hat falls in the fray.
But these things can do little worse than superficial damage to him, damage he’ll repair as soon as he gets a chance. Meanwhile, he puts more and more of them out of commission with every attack. The herd is thinning.
A metallic rattle draws his attention. “No…”
Logan’s robot form is rising to its feet at the back of the room. Looking around, Virgil’s sock puppet is already approaching him silently from the other side, dragging himself along with his knitted arms. Logan begins to take a clunking step forward, then another. Janus tries to stand, but the distraction did it’s job- a large plush frog lands on his chest and kicks off again, knocking him back. He scrambles away from the puppets until his back hits the door and he uses it to pull himself up. He brandishes the cane again, knowing he can’t use it against them, knowing that he won’t dare hurt them when they can’t even control their own bodies. Patton knows it, too.
He presses himself against the door, breathing hard. Shit-shit-shit what do I do-what do I do?! Something is trickling down his spine. He looks between Virgil and Logan slowly approaching, to the light thumping noise of Remus still hanging from the closet door. His movements are stilted, like he’s slowly trying to walk but can’t get down by himself. Ah. So, the only ones Patton hadn’t sent after him were…
“Okay! Let’s just- just calm down and talk about this.” Janus locks eyes with Patton, retracts his extra arms, and hopes he’ll think he’s just accepting defeat.
“Sure thing, Jan. Did you make your decision? About what kind of puppet you’d be?” Patton hugs Roman to him in a crushing grip. Janus slowly, quietly raises two arms from the mattress behind Patton.
“A little bit. Hard to really think right now, but-” he glances past him, a fatal error that betrays his plan. Pattton follows his gaze and jumps away from the hands. He trips into the closet door, yanking Remus down from the hook.
“Stop!” Toys and puppets alike freeze when Patton shouts. “Now hang on there, kiddo, we don’t want Remus to get hurt.” He holds up the marionette. Janus takes a step, but Patton yells out.
“Janus, I’ll rip his legs off, I swear I will.” He puts one of Remus’ wooden legs between his teeth and bites down hard.
Think. Think! Janus looks at the ripped fabric and scattered stuffing of Patton's other plushies. He looks at the puppet bodies of Virgil and Logan, standing frozen in readied attacks against their will. He looks at Roman in Patton's arm, being squeezed- squeezed- squeezed-
“Shadow puppets!” he blurts out, panting. He pleads with his eyes. “I- I’d be a- a shadow puppet. Dont…”
Blood-shot eyes going wide, Patton lowers Remus. “Oh. Oh, Janus, that’s perfect. That’s so you. Thank you! Thank you so much, you won’t regret this.
Buy some time. “...I’m sure I won’t. Now, just give me a minute to concentrate-”
“No need, I can transform you myself. Now that you’ve told me what you prefer I can picture it perfectly! It’ll take more energy to do it myself, sure, but I can’t really run the risk of you trying to get out of it. You understand.” Patton closes his eyes and thinks. “Let’s see-”
“Wait, Patton -”
“There!” Patton waves Remus at him and Janus is thrown backward, thinning into a two-dimensional shadow that lands with a quiet whoosh of air against the wall. His hat sinks into the ground, vanishing. The silhouette looks shocked as it shrinks down to the size of a hand. It nestles down along a shelf, peeking out around the shadow of a book. It’s motionless as Patton speaks.
“Now, you just stay right there, good buddy. No more interruptions. I gotta get back to it.” Patton turns his back to the shadow, dropping Remus and takes Roman back to the bed, just missing the way the darkness ripples beside the edge of the shelf and glides along the walls. Patton climbs into bed and almost misses the way a shadow is reaching slowly across the sheets toward Roman…
“Ah!” Patton leaps out of the bed, holding Roman tightly. “Stop moving!” He waves his free arm at the shadow. It keeps advancing, but shies away from the brightest surfaces. “I said stop!” Flickers of movement behind his knick knacks and books and within his closet taunt him.
Growling, Patton sweeps an arm across the room, directing a wave of plushies to capture the shadow, but the surviving toys can only paw at the walls. The darkness travels among their shadows with ease. It travels beneath them, finding a hundred new paths back to Patton, reaching for him, grasping. Darkness in the shape of a crook nips at his socks and Patton jumps, stumbling. He kicks at the debris underfoot, trying to clear a space, trying to- another wave of darkness lances out at his feet, this one ripping a sock away as he tries to kick and loses his balance. Pinwheeling, Roman flies out of his arms, immediately swallowed up by the darkness rushing in to fetch him.
“NO!” Patton’s knees hit the floor hard, and he punches the carpet. He turns around wildly, looking for any other puppets within reach, only to see a flash of Virgil’s purple yarn disappearing into the shadows of the closet. “Argh! I just. Want. PEACE!” He hits the floor again and rises, feeling dizzy.
Dodging the shadows cast on the carpet, he leaps across the room and slams the light switch, drenching the room in darkness. “There! You can’t be a shadow without light!”
Silence.
Patton laughs, out of breath.
“Oh, thank goodness. Oh, my gosh, i- whew, that worked. It worked…” He gets back down on the floor to search through the wreckage blindly. Fumbling around in the dark, he flings all the clumps of stuffing left and right until he finds the felt of Roman’s form. “Yes!” He hugs him close. Carefully making his way to the bed, he gets under the covers. Tapping into Roman’s dreams, Patton lulls himself to sleep, finally in control. No more distractions. He floats in the darkness, sifting through a million bright scenarios of joy and flowers and laughter unending. It’s peaceful, in a way. It’s quiet.
So quiet…
.
.
.
.
.
Yeah, that dream’ll be a good start. Nice and quiet. He continues to move around in the dark looking for the puppet but before he can find it the hairs all over his body prickle at the sound of a low chuckle. A truly sinister laugh begins to swell, filling the pitch black room.
“Oh, Patton. You fool.”
He jumps up at the voice. “Janus!”
He turns on his heel for the lightswitch but his foot catches on something and he falls face first into the carpet among the shreds of his former toys. The floor is writhing. Several whooshing sounds rush by him on all sides and he feels something like rope drape across his back. He twists around to face up just as several more fall across him, tightening against his arms, chest, and legs, holding him down.
“Janus!” he screams again, only for more shadow-ropes to lash across his mouth and eyes and neck. He bites down hard on the rope but ends up biting his own tongue. He yelps, tasting blood.
“A shadow has no substance, Patton, no form. The darkness can only weigh you down as much as you let it.” And Patton lets it, consciously or no, he lets it settle over him even as he struggles and the weight- the weight is crushing. He feels something be ripped from his pocket and all the anger that had fueled him vanishes, leaving him cold, breathless, and so, so alone. He’s driving away, he’s leaving! He’s leaving us alone, alone, ALONE! He takes in one shuddering breath and feels his eyes sting before squeezing them shut and letting out a long, desperate sob.
The lights flip on and Virgil is standing at the switch looking paler than normal. Patton flinches at the light, turning easily onto his side and curling up. The shadows are nowhere to be found, and if no one sees them rippling away along the edges of the room, it hardly matters now. Unrestrained, his arms fly up to cover his face as he continues to cry on the floor.
Roman is wrestling with a blanket as he sits up in the bed. Logan is standing next to him as he stretches his arms and back, trying to relieve the stiffness in his limbs. He gingerly touches a bruise on his shoulder before vanishing it away.
“Get me down!” Remus screeches from the closet door where he’s hanging by the back of his collar on the coat hook and punching the door with his fists. Logan reaches him first, dodging a stray kick and reminding him to “just teleport, you ignoramus” , so he does, standing beside Logan and glowering at everyone. Across the room, Janus reappears. He’s uninjured and a blurry orange figure stands beside him. Virgil nearly jumps out of his skin and hisses at the pair.
“What the fuck was all that?!” Virgil waves his arms wildly at all the everything in the room.
Janus just sighs, walking through the toy debris to the shaking figure on the floor and scooping him up with all six arms and a grunt. He carries Patton to the bed as Roman scrambles out of the way and Janus tucks him in.
“You’ll have to ask Patton that after he’s rested.” Janus straightens his cape, pulling at the collar a bit and grimacing. He summons a glass of water and places it on the nightstand for later. Roman looks down at the side now weeping into a bunny pillow pet, then surveys the room.
“Holy moley, padre. I didn’t know he was that powerful.”
“By himself, he’s not,” says Janus, turning to the only figure yet to speak. “Alec.”
The orange blur stiffens at his tone.
“I trust you will not be trying to ‘influence’ Patton again after this debacle?”
Somehow, the blur looks quite chagrined.
“Uh, yeah, no, that’s- that’s my bad, guys. Things got a little- a little outta hand but-”
“ Ya think?! ” Virgil shouts, lowering his voice when Janus gestures silently at Patton. “I’ve been living as a sock puppet for three days!” he whispers. “My arms- oh jeez, my arms feel like they’re unraveling, Logan, are my arms unraveling?”
“Your arms appear to be fi-”
“I said I was sorry-”
“No, you didn’t-”
“Falsehood. What you actually said was, ‘my bad, guys’-”
“Well, I’ve been stuck in his pocket for three days, so-”
“ I can make your arms unravel for you, Virgie-”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Janus shares a look with Roman and they nod in unison. Janus snaps his fingers. The entire posse, minus Patton, rises up in the living room. Alec promptly turns toward the blinds and heaves.
“Eugh, hck. You… pttu , you guys do that everytime? How do you-” he leans over again. Remus slaps him on the back, grinning.
“Ack,” Roman shields his eyes. “That’s disgusting.”
“Ha! Serves you right!” Virgil shouts.
“Serves me right? Oh ho ho, serves me right, huh?! Serves you fuckin’ right, ya rag doll, how’d you like a piece of this-” he starts rolling up his sleeves, or at least the blur of his arms sort of bunches up around the elbow where sleeves would be, and Virgil does the same while Remus cheers and claps between them.
“Oh, you wanna go, orange-sicle? Bring it, ya little tic-tac assho-”
“Cool it with the language, please ,” Roman begs them. “Patton is trying to sleep .”
“I agree,” says Logan. “This nonsensical fighting is getting us nowhere. Neither of you can inflict lasting damage on the other; we aren’t real. Virgil, he’s just, what’s it called, egging you on. ”
“Uh, yeah , cause he’s a- a yolk - no, nope, I lost it, that was bad.” Virgil looks at the ground and Roman shakes his head at him.
“That was terrible .”
“Yeah, well-”
“Ah, Logie, why did you have to break up the fight?” Remus whines.
“Ugh, hello, I helped,” Roman snaps.
Logan raises a finger to interject but stops when Janus reaches across the circle and yanks Remus and Alec toward him. “Remus, darling , you can just recreate their fight in the Imagination later- it doesn’t have to really happen.” He turns to the group. “Well! We truly ought to be going, toodles!” Janus holds the pair by the backs of their shirts and they start to sink out, but-
“Wait, look,” Alec struggles, making Janus pause. The three rise back up. “Look, I jus’ wanted to be heard once in a while, izat so bad? Look at me, I’m a- a frickin’ blur over here, do you even know what I look like? I sure don’t! That’s how repressed I am. This is ridiculous, it’s not fair.” Alec starts mumbling to himself about outfit theories and hypothetical facial hair. The others look at each other. Thinking.
“I just-” Alec sighs. “I thought I could help him, and if I helped him, maybe he’d help me be not so repressed anymore. He’s, like, the expert. He was so tore up about the breakup, and he said it felt better to be angry than sad, so I helped him be angry for a while and we played some board games and then he got on about his toys and- I didn’ know he’d lose control like that. I didn’ know he could do all that with just my influence.” He glances around at each of them.
“I got in over my head. I’m sorry.”
The room goes silent.
“Thank you, Alec. I know that wasn’t easy.” Logan nods to him, then addresses the group. “It would appear that continuing to repress Alec will only lead to further complications. The answer is obvious.” He turns now to Janus. “We can no longer keep him locked up.” Janus returns the look with silence and raised eyebrows as the room erupts around them.
“Yes, yes, yes, ye-” Remus starts chanting, clapping his hands.
“ Are you crazy? He’s a menace- ” Virgil is shouting. “Thomas can’t handle Alec, he’ll drive all his friends away-”
“Thomas’ inability to deal with his anger is precisely the issue!” Logan argues back. “He can’t keep pretending it doesn’t exist!”
As the argument goes on, Alec is tensing up, unconsciously trying to get smaller and smaller. Janus releases his grip and pats him gently on the back, tilting his head to give him a look of reassurance. He moves to stand beside him instead of behind and keeps an arm around him as they watch the debate in front of them together.
“He’s right,” a tired voice interrupts the fight. Shocked silence comes over the room and Alec stands up a little taller.
“What the hell, princey? You’re gonna side with them? ” Virgil accuses him.
“No.” Roman says easily, utterly calm. “I’m done taking sides. Trying to navigate “light” versus “dark” doesn’t work anymore. I’m on Thomas’ side from now on, and Logan,” he raises his chin to look him in the eyes. “Logan is right.”
“Thomas needs to be able to get angry and process those feelings directly, not through other facets of his personality. Getting his anger tied up with any of us will only make it that much harder to untangle. We’ve seen now what can happen when it goes through Patton, and I think he’d agree, too.” Roman glances up the stairs “We can talk to him about this later, but I am certain he would not have done what he did if Thomas were able to just admit he was mad. That he is allowed to be mad.”
Virgil opens and closes his mouth, trying to come up with an argument, but he’s got nothing. His defense collapses. He sighs.
“Fine.”
Janus can feel Alec practically vibrating with excitement next to him. “Keep it together,” he teases, whispering.
“Well, this is a surprise.” Logan surveys the room. “We appear to be… unanimous.”
WHOOP! Alec jumps and punches the air. Remus cackles, slapping him on the back so hard the breath gets knocked out of him. Janus barely dodges in time.
“Wait,” Alec gasps out. “Whazat mean?”
“It means… I’m not sure what it means.” Logan admits. “Janus?”
“It means trouble,” Virgil grumbles half-heartedly.
“It means ,” Janus smirks. “That we have a lot to talk about, but we can do that later. For now, suffice it to say that the next time Thomas faces an unfair situation,” he looks at his blurry orange friend. “You’ll be part of the conversation.”
Alec grins and all of a sudden they can actually see his teeth . His form ripples for a split second, then solidifies.
“Whoa.” Virgil blinks.
“Nice flavedo!” Remus steps back to get a better look.
Alec looks at his own hands, at his clothes, and sees solid shapes and colors for the first time. “I have a form?! I have a form! AH! I need a mirror-” He runs to the bathroom and they hear him scream in excitement.
Logan crosses his arms. “This is very unexpected. Indescribable, even.” Janus nods. Alec runs back in and screams again.
“Yeah, gratz, buddy,” says Roman, impassive. “Guys, I am so tired, are we done here? I would like to get back to properly mourning our failed love.”
“Seconded.” Janus raises a hand.
“It appears so.” Logan concedes.
“Good,” Virgil growls, and all three sink out, leaving Logan with Remus and Alec.
“I may not sleep again, ever!” says Alec.
“Yay!” Remus cheers. “Who needs sleep!”
“I’m gonna make Pappy a sandwich! He ain’t eaten in, like, two days or sum’n.”
“Oohh, that’s boring, nevermind.” Remus sinks out with a raspberry sound.
“I’ll help you.” Logan follows him to the kitchen and they get to work.
And yall know what that is?
Growth.
The End.