Work Text:
He felt that this was the right thing to do.
Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, but–
Scratch that.
He thought this was the right thing to do. Not felt. He didn’t feel.
Logan thought that this was the right thing to do. He was going to go talk to Janus after the disaster that was the Doctor Who Debacle. Exposing the other for being a liar and a snake from before Thomas had even known of his existence. It was, perhaps, a futile thing to do. What had it done, other than raise tensions that were already quite, well, tense? He should acknowledge it. He should, perhaps, even apologize. Perhaps.
He raised his hand and firmly knocked on the other’s door.
It did not open.
“Janus,” he said loudly. “I must talk to you.”
Nothing.
That was odd. Logan had been here before. Janus always opened the door for him, no matter what the situation was. He set his hand on the doorknob and hesitated. “Janus?”
Maybe it was wrong of him. Maybe he should come back.
He tried to turn the doorknob.
It turned, and the door opened a crack.
Maybe he should leave.
“I’m coming in,” he announced.
When he opened the door, he expected the room to be empty. That would explain why there was no answer. He would leave and come back later. That was how this would go.
Instead, he saw Patton, curled up in the corner.
“Patton?” He stepped inside, glancing around for a moment before his attention settled back on the cowering figure on the other side of the room. “What happened?”
“Get out,” the other whispered.
“What?”
Patton whipped around, voice raising. “Get out!”
It wasn’t Patton at all. For a split second, it almost seemed as such, but Logan could tell in the way he moved that the man in front of him was none other than Janus. He looked exactly like Patton, and wore the moral side’s clothes, but this was undoubtedly Janus.
“Oh,” he said softly, closing the door behind him. The room went dark, and he carefully shuffled over to the nightstand and turned on the lamp. Janus was still hugging himself in the corner. His arms were wrapped around his knees, and his chest was heaving with sobs.
“Please just go.”
Logan came over and kneeled on the ground. “I’m here.”
“I don’t want you to be.”
“I’m here for you.”
Janus let out a desperate, almost pathetic noise of distress and hugged himself tighter.
There wasn’t anything that Logan could do, really. He wasn’t good with this kind of thing. He should have just left, in all honesty. But he sat down on the floor, a small distance away from Janus, and stayed. Even if he had no idea what to do. Even if he couldn’t solve this. He stayed.
Janus openly sobbed, shaking his head. “I should have locked the door.”
“You didn’t.”
“I should have.”
“I think you want me here.”
Janus turned away from Logan. It was strange, watching tears fall from what most would assume were Patton’s eyes. The other’s glasses were fogged up and everything. He had been crying for a while.
“Why are you disguised?” Logan asked, trying to keep his voice soft. It came out a bit more monotone than he’d have liked.
“I can’t look at myself,” Janus whispered. “This… this is the only thing I can be right now.”
His voice was so meek, so terrible. Logan wished he were anywhere else. “There are no mirrors in here. You can’t see yourself.”
“I can feel it. The scales, the scars, the evil. I can feel it. He– He doesn’t have any of that. Please let me stay like this.”
“I won’t force you.”
Janus nodded. Didn’t say anything, just nodded. What a mystery.
“I came here to apologize,” Logan said, and it almost surprised himself that he said it so plainly.
“Apologize?”
“Yes. For my actions today.”
Janus sniffled. “Which actions, exactly?”
“The actions that exposed you for your history of impersonating Patton.”
How funny, looking at the other’s disguised form and saying it.
“Oh,” Janus said softly. “Really?”
“Yes.” Logan moved a little closer. “I do mean it. The apology. It did no one any good, for me to take us there. Not really.”
“They hate me for it.”
There was something in his voice that made Logan pause.
“They hate what I am. A liar. A snake. An impersonator.” Janus pulled in a shaky breath. “Do you know how much that hurts, for them to shun me, when I’m just trying to do what’s best for Thomas?”
“I do.”
It was Janus’s turn to pause. “What?”
“Haven’t you seen it? The way they regard me?” Logan pushed his glasses up his nose and shifted in place. “They ignore me. They treat me as if I’m flawed, all the time, every time. Every decision. Every conclusion. Like I’m some joke.”
Janus turned towards him now, listening intently. “They don’t hate you,” he said softly. “Not like this.”
“Maybe not. But they’re indifferent to me. And that’s almost worse.”
Logan looked away.
He should have left.
Janus moved closer, sitting right in front of Logan, wearing Patton’s face and clothes. “I’m not indifferent to you.”
“That doesn’t matter, does it?”
“It should.”
Logan felt a pang in his chest, a longing ache that he hated to even think of. He sighed. It was a very emotional sigh, and he hated that just as much. “Maybe so.”
When he looked back at Janus, the other was wearing his own face this time. Still in Patton’s clothes, but his eyes and scars and scales were there. He was, once again, himself. “You know what,” Janus said, “I think we’re not too different, you and I. We just want to be loved.”
“I don’t want anything, other than what’s best for Thomas.”
Something registered in Janus’s eyes. Some sort of sadness. “I know you don’t believe that.”
“You don’t know anything, then.”
Janus’s face morphed right back into Patton’s. Logan watched it happen. “Okay.” Janus stood up. “Okay,” he repeated. “I’m fine now. You can go.”
Logan stayed on the floor, thinking. His mind was starting to race in that terrible way it did when he started to feel. “I should go,” he said, trying to stand.
His legs would not move.
He was too burdened with his own thoughts. His body refused to function until it was resolved. He knew this well.
Janus seemed to catch on, sitting back down. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just comfortable on the floor.”
Janus laughed. “I’m a liar by trade, Logan. You’re not the greatest at it.” From his place in front of Logan, he leaned in, gazing at him. “You can be honest with me, you know.”
Logan couldn’t look him in the eye. Not really. He kept darting around, glancing at the walls and the floor and the ceiling instead. “I know.”
“Good.”
He didn’t know how to be.
How could he confide in someone after all this time? In what world was this okay? Logic and Deceit, sitting on the floor, having a “heart to heart?”
“Or we don’t have to talk at all,” Janus said, and Logan froze.
He froze, because Janus had set his hand on top of Logan’s.
His hand was cold, and a little rough, as if his skin was peeling in places. It didn’t move away, didn’t move at all, just sat there. Logan’s eyes settled on the scene. He stared. He glanced at Janus and then back at their hands.
“I’m here for you, too,” Janus said, in his own voice and face.
Logan, for once in his life, believed it.
He started talking.