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moon-lixie · 3 years

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Yes, he had been aware that it was the literal end of the world, but to hear that he only had so little time left made everything appear clearer in front of his now blurry sight.

word count: 3.699k

warnings: mentions of riots and guns.

genre: apocalyptic AU, slight enemies to lovers, fluff.

song: moya- Godspeed You! Black Emperor

The sound of the tv in the background didn’t allow Seungmin to concentrate on the only thing that seemed to matter to him at that moment, you.

What met his wide eyes was the familiar cream white walls that he could only associate with his home, because that’s exactly where he was, in his childhood house while you were away, not awfully so but still not close enough for him to reach out to you in the way he wanted.

If he had learnt something from this situation it was that he didn’t have many instances he would like to go back and fix, and that he had always seen you in the wrong way. Either because he liked living in denial or because —without noticing— he had become the most dense person to have ever existed.

And it was infuriating that he had only noticed now, having had plenty of time before he had only come to the realisation because of the end of—

The volume of the tv became louder and he had to bite back his urge to belligerently ask his parents to turn it down when he heard what was being said on the news.

‘Specialists have estimated that we have only 48 hours left before it becomes impossible to leave our houses due to the radiation. People have apparently taken this ultimatum just as predicted by many as unprecedentedly violent riots have started breaking out all across the globe,’ the woman on the news channel said, wearing a cool expression that he wished he could also keep in a situation like this.

On the screen various photos and videos of chaos flashed in an instance, flooding the small living room with an orange glimmer that came from the flames he saw as mere pixels.

Seungmin’s blood ran completely cold; yes, he had been aware that it was the literal end of the world, but to hear that he only had so little time left made everything appear clearer in front of his now blurry sight.

The first tear travelled down his left cheek and impacted against the wooden floor right when the barking of what sounded like all the dogs of the neighbourhood started resonating with force and alarm.

Hell was breaking loose not only all across the world but in his chest too, he felt too many and yet so little at the same time. His body began moving on an impulse as he took long strides towards the white entrance door. Feeling excessively heavy he let his weight fall to the ground as he sat and put his shoes on, taking special care of making a double knot on the shoelaces of the black converse he had been wearing the night before when he arrived.

It was hard but he still managed to stand up and open the door hastily; ignoring the questioning voice of his mother he began sprinting towards the sidewalk where some of the people he had grown up seeing greet him with vibrant smiles now wearing cold expressions and getting inside their cars with a definite goal in mind.

He couldn’t care less about getting his hands on material objects; just as before, he felt pleased with his life and the things he had, that sentiment wouldn't change just because his life was close to reaching its end.

The night before he had fallen asleep in his parent's room as they had all cried their eyes out and confessed the love they were already aware of. But now he needed to make one last confession, and that’s why he had to reach your side before it was too late. That’s the only reason why he ran.

The pavement punched his soles as his steps increased its pace, every step resonated against every centimetre of his body as he tried to move faster. His heart was beating on his throat and he knew it wasn’t because he was exhausted, he had just begun running after all, it had all to do with the words he had never wanted to say until today.

Desperately he wanted to figure out when had this feeling on his chest begun, when and how? And the current situation suddenly felt like the best way to figure it out, because as he felt the air hit against his face and knew the world was slowly crumbling around him, he felt like he was not only rushing to you but through memories as well.

He knew for sure that his feelings had nothing to do with that evening in the park back when you were both kids. Your hands wrapped tight around the handles of the mint green bike he had pointed out was hideous just because you seemed to love it so much, eyes soaked with innocence wavering with nervousness and little white sneakers sitting on the pedals.

The memory was quite vivid, how you had taken various deep breaths before your hesitant glare turned to one of determination and you voiced out that you were in fact ready to try on your own.

Your father let go of your bike and you began pedalling, screaming out in joy as you managed to move forward the first two meters completely unscratched before you fell. The consequences of your bravery were a scraped knee and tears that dried fast as you refused to keep crying when he started making fun of your fall.

Neither did it seem to be related with all of those petty fights that had taken place at school back when you felt like you were on top of the world with a perfect score on the chemistry test everyone else had flunked.

All of those instances in which he had gotten to erase a smug smirk from your lips came rushing back, specifically on those midterm tests where he had managed to get an almost perfect score on every single subject after having spent the prior three nights staying up until ungodly hours just to study. Because he wanted to win.

No, he wanted you to see him, even if it meant you were mad at him because he had outperformed you, he wanted to have your undivided attention if only for a couple of minutes and he cursed himself for not knowing better than to annoy you in order to get it.

The feeling constricting his chest had a lot to do with that evening in the eighth grade where the moon shone with a special glimmer. The park that had witnessed the both of you bicker and tease each other endlessly was then completely quiet while it cradled two teenagers sitting on the swings.

It had been around the time where you both seemed to come to terms with your stupid rivarly and accepted that it was just the way you two functioned. And so the late night meetings and the sitting together at lunch with your other mutual friends had become so usual that many times you had both taken it for granted.

“I kissed Felix, well, he kissed me,” you confessed, wearing a dumb grin on your lips, your eyes holding every star that had previously been on the sky that faced the unpleasant feeling harboring on his chest.

He was sure it had a lot to do with the bitter taste that congratulating you for it had left at the back of his mouth, and the annoyance he felt for the following weeks when he faced his freckled friend, because Felix had been your first kiss and not him.

A loud shattering sound interrupted his thoughts, he looked towards his right side without stopping for a second, being met with the image of one of his middle school classmates breaking the window of one of the establishments that were near your favourite ice cream spot downtown.

He hadn’t realized how far he had come while running, not even his ragged breath had done much to bring him out of his daze as opposed to the chaos that was turning his hometown into something that must look like hell.

Completely mortified was an understatement to explain how he felt about the situation, but he at least had the comfort of knowing that both you and his parents were far away from this mayhem, even if that meant he still had a considerable way to go before reaching you.

Nothing could stop him or at least that is what he thought before a flying tv crossed his eyesight, he stopped immediately, almost not being able to dodge the shoe that was thrown into someone else’s direction right after.

He would’ve laughed at the absurdity of both objects crossing his eyesight if it hadn’t been for a loud crash that made reality wash over him once and for all. Turning around he witnessed a blue pickup truck being consumed by greedy flames that threatened not to leave anything behind for the owner of the vehicle.

Right after, he became aware of the hysterical screams of everyone around him and just how many people were there running without a destination and taking as many things as they could hold in their hands.

Deep inside he wished there was a way to make all of this stop but he soon regretted that wish when a gunshot rippled over the loud voices. The world came to a stop for a second as some threw themselves to the floor and covered their heads —Seungmin included— and some others froze in place.

The chaos resumed soon after when the people still standing began running once again without direction, pushing each other and trying to pick up things others allowed to fall from their arms as they tried to escape.

He was trembling on the floor, eyes wide open and trying to take in every last detail he could. The person who had shot was standing on top of a black car, holding a handgun he definitely shouldn’t have. Their eyes were closed as he aimed somewhere else and he shot again.

Another wave of screams filled the city and he choked back a sob as he began crawling on the cold pavement. The sleeves of his jacket were picking up all the dirt of the floor and becoming stained perhaps forever, but that was the least of his worries.

His current goal was reaching the other sidewalk where some small houses were spread in order to keep himself alive, at least he thought that was his best shot for now.

The world seemed to want to prove him wrong, a blaring shriek uncovered that his crawling plan wasn’t fool proof. Beside him a car had barely managed to stop on time not to impact against him.

For what felt like a couple of minutes all he could see were the blinding yellow lights, his body completely frozen and unwilling to react even when his mind screamed that he needed to move.

“Are you alright?” asked a robust man that had stepped outside of the car and kneeled in front of him. And the answer was no, he wasn’t alright, nobody was, hell was consuming every inch of that place and he had no time to spare, not even 48 hours because he might just not make it through another one.

He should thank the man for taking its time to check on him even when Seungmin himself wouldn’t have stepped down from the car if he saw such atrocities taking place, but all he could do was stand up and run with all of his might.

One blue fence looked like the best place to hide behind, not that much as he tried to climb it and ended up falling to the floor where plush grass met his back and elbows. Thankfully he hadn’t hit his head.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he allowed his head to rest back atop the grass. In front of his eyes the sky had begun turning grey, the warning of yet another inconvenience waiting around the corner.

The unsuccessful attempt at climbing the fence had reminded him of that time he had tried to sneak to your house along with Jisung and Felix, who had planned to climb the fence of your backyard and then come inside from the back door that you would be waiting by.

Of course he had fallen to the floor just like now, grunting more loudly than he should’ve if your parents were asleep and unaware of their presence there —which they weren’t.

You had run towards him with a mocking grin on your face and told him, “you need to stop trying to be interesting because this is all you get from it. Just stick to your books and stay away from any physical activity.”

“Shut up,” he had scowled while sitting up, “I’m more athletic than you.”

“I apologize if I hurt your ego, mister star of the baseball team. But I’m pretty sure the fence did a better job at that than I could.” And he hated that you were right as much as he hated you and your stupidly pretty smile that would appear whenever you were amused.

Taking a deep breath he stood up with more determination than he had when he was in the middle of the main street. He had to make it there and tell you how he felt, even if it was the literal last thing that he managed to do.

He circled the small house and got out through the back door of the yard, taking special care of locking it afterwards, thinking of it as a favour he could do for the people that surely were inside that house facing the horror of the collective hysteria.

There was no time to waste, that was the only certainty that humankind had been given and so he resumed his running, pushing his tired legs to make the most of all of those years of being on the baseball team because that had to be worth something, right?

While running he had always allowed his mind to drift to wherever it pleased, especially back in high school on the early trainings where his coach would send them to run three laps around the school.

Right then and there his mind went back in time once again, this time to a similar instance to the one he underwent. It was in the middle of training when he had heard you had injured yourself and Jisung had taken you to the infirmary.

Of course the worried Felix forgot to mention that you had only twisted your ankle while going down the stairs, nothing more and nothing else. The days that followed he found himself wondering if he would have ran with such desperation if he had been aware of that detail or if he perhaps would’ve experienced the same need of having to see you.

He ran and ran, up the stairs and through the hallways where he had previously scolded people for doing so, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t slow down until he saw you were alright; and when he finally made sure of it, it was his heart that would refuse to slow down.

After making sure you were okay he had waited by your side, cracking light hearted jokes and making fun of you for being so clumsy when in reality all that he wanted was to hold your hand and sigh loudly in relief. He was such a big idiot for not realising it sooner.

He had always been too scared, of you and especially of the things you made him feel that he couldn’t quite put into words; never knowing exactly how to act around you he had acted like an idiot on many occasions. Not that he was the only one at fault, you could be pretty rude too when you put your mind to it.

Just like at that party in your senior year of high school in which everyone had agreed to the genius idea of playing spin the bottle, which had ultimately resulted in the both of you cramped inside Jisung’s messy closet.

“We don’t have to do anything, in fact, I won’t even touch you so you don’t have to be worried,” he had told you, trying to avoid looking directly at your eyes that were too close for comfort.

“Just say that you’re a coward and stop trying to pretend you’re not doing anything to be a gentleman.” The tone of your voice was outright mocking and it made his blood boil with annoyance.

“I’m not a coward,” he retorted almost right away, “as a matter of fact I could kiss you right here and now but I won’t because you’re going to make a fuss just like you always do.”

What was it about the presence of the other that always made the both of you turn into childish idiots and take stupid decisions? He sincerely had no idea but it happened again after you spoke next. “You don’t have the guts to do it.”

“Watch me.”

The skin of your cheeks felt searing against his palms; your loud friends outside seemed to go silent as if they had a way of knowing he was leaning ever so slowly towards you.

Once he could feel your breath fanning over his lips he looked at your eyes, asking for permission despite his initial impulse of just proving you wrong. You nodded softly before closing your eyes and he finally did it, he kissed you like he had wanted to do since god knows when.

Your lips moved softly against his, warming up his chest and the now rosy skin of his cheeks. He wanted to stay there forever and kiss you until he had robbed you of every breath you could have but you pushed away before he had the chance to.

Confusion had been painted clearly on his face but you didn’t even seem to notice or you simply didn’t care as you pushed open the doors of the closet and loudly declared that the idea was so stupid that you wouldn’t go throught wiht it, that you didn’t want to kiss him not for seven minutes or seven seconds when all he wanted then was to kiss you forever.

Stupid Seungmin, stupid. He chanted in his head as he saw the building of your apartment come closer with every single one of his steps.

He should’ve kissed you more, asked you to prom, he should’ve insisted on hugging you a bit longer the last time you both saw each other, he should’ve told you he loved you, he needed to.

Upon entering the building on the outside of the city where you had decided to settle a year ago, he looked around only to find an eerie silence greeting him. The place wasn’t particularly lively, but this was a contrast that made him shiver.

He looked towards the elevator and quickly discarded that idea, he still remembered how he had to carry box after box up the stairs when you moved here because the elevator was “temporarily” out of order; what the landlord had forgotten to mention was that temporarily meant always for him.

You lived on the fifth floor which usually didn’t present much of an inconvenience but having run across the whole city he felt like his knees were about to give up and no amount of determination could push them to function any better. Nevertheless you were so close already that he couldn’t even think of giving up.

Kim Seungmin had never been one to quit easily nor one to let anxiety persuade him from going after he wanted, and so, mind set on staying true to himself and being well aware that he had nothing else to lose, he knocked on your door three times, just like he always used to.

A couple of minutes passed by until he heard a loud gasp behind the door before he saw you step outside into the hallway with a confused expression painting your beautiful face different from what he remembered.

Was it silly that he just wanted to see you smile?

“What are you doing h—” Your sentence was cut short by the sobs that escaped from in between his lips once he hugged you close to his chest.

He had made a recount of every moment he had spent with you, about every touch and every word you had ever exchanged and used it as a fuel to run away from the chaos that could’ve killed him and all he wanted was you.

Despite all the chaos, hysteria, despite the end of the world, he had run all the way there just because of you.

“I love you,” he said once he had calmed down and you had pulled him inside your apartment, “I love you so much and I was the biggest idiot in the world for not noticing sooner.”

With him your gaze was rarely as soft and comforting as the one you gave him now, with him things had always been complicated because both decided to play dumb, he knew that now.

Your hand travelled to brush his hair away from his face and ultimately to cup the left side of his face where a small scratch had slipped its way on his face on his way there. He melted into the touch and closed his eyes feeling a foreign pain begin taking over his chest.

“The world is ending and you ran all the way here?” you asked seemingly amused, though he couldn’t ignore the slightly worried undertone to your comment.

“I don’t care, I love you,” he whispered back, like a broken record, he believed himself only capable of repeating those three words over and over again.

“You’ve always been an idiot.” Your eyes were filled with tears as you hugged him and brought his head to rest on your shoulder. “But I love you too.”

He began crying once again, because he was terrified and amazingly regretful of not telling you before. But despite of the world falling apart, he finally had you.

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spicycreativity · 3 years

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Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 5

Chapter: 5/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: N/A; ask to tag Excerpt: Janus slid a few inches down in the chair, feeling as wrung-out as he did when he used to stay up all night braiding and weaving his influence into Thomas’ thought patterns. “I certainly won’t hold this over your head. Figuratively.” He slid down a few more inches. “If you want to avoid falling out of the chair, I suggest you put the footrest out,” Logan said. “The handle is on the left side.” “Yes, because I’ve never sat in a recliner before,” Janus muttered, balancing his weight on his heels so he didn’t slide out of the chair. Note: The cake is a lie metaphor

It's my job to be cleaning up this mess And that's enough reason to go for me It's my job to be better than the rest And that makes a day for me

Janus awoke to the sensation of something poking the underside of his wrist and a deep conviction that it was going to be one of those days. Mild pain in his wrist aside (what was that?), a sticky sense of malaise clung to his skin like saltwater and pressed into him harder than his blankets ever could.

Janus opened his eyes. Remus had evidently tucked him in, because he was under his blankets with his arms crossed over his chest like a corpse. He was still wearing the onesie and his gloves, and his hat rested on the nightstand beside him. Janus examined his right wrist and found that Remus had slipped a folded piece of paper into his glove, the corner of which was poking Janus in the wrist.

Adjusting his pillows as he went, Janus sat up and pulled the paper out of the glove.

There once was a Snake with a fast wit

Who fell for a Side with dad habits

Poor Janus was sprung

And hoped Patton was hung

So they could make love like two rabbits

"I'm going to kill him," Janus said evenly. He kept his wits about him when disposing of this new poem, merely flicking his wrist and sending it up like flash paper. It disappeared in one satisfying flare of white.

Janus nodded once and hauled himself out of bed. He didn't like that he'd fallen asleep in the common room not once, but twice now. It wasn't his style. He was the puppetmaster, the Lord of the Lies, the doorkeeper who dressed like an 1870s oil baron and took his coffee black like his soul. He didn't fall asleep on the couch.

At least it had been Remus to take him to bed. Janus wasn't sure what he'd do if he woke up in Patton's arms.

It didn't matter. Janus could rehabilitate his reputation today while he lounged around until he felt better. First of all, he had to get this accursed parrot onesie off.

As much as it pained him, he changed right back into his usual outfit. The stiff starched cotton was never the most comfortable even on the best of days, but today it chafed irritably against his skin.

He would have preferred a nice set of fleece-lined pajamas, but his fragile pride simply wouldn't let him go out like that. Not when he had already displayed such weakness in front of the others.

He slunk out of his bedroom and down the hallway in stocking feet, walking toe-heel to muffle the sound of his footsteps.

Logan gave him a curt nod from the couch as he passed; Janus tipped his hat in reply.

He passed the dining room table and rounded the corner into the kitchen. He had been aiming for the coffee pot, but stopped short at the sight of Patton seated on the floor with his legs pulled up to his chest and his forehead resting on his knees. It was the same position he had been in the night Janus found him in front of his door, and it made Janus go hot with worry.

Janus stared. Patton's shoulders rose and fell with his breathing, slow and even. He wasn't crying, then. Janus coughed into his fist.

Patton looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Oh, hey, Janus," he said like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to curl up on the kitchen floor on the verge of tears.

"Good morning," Janus said, going for the coffee maker for the sake of having something to do with his hands. "Please try to convince me you aren't upset about anything."

"It's nothing," Patton said.

Janus was more than content to leave it at that, since he didn't care about Patton's feelings. He poured ground coffee into the filter and shoved it into place with a little more force than was strictly necessary. His eyes fell on Patton when he turned to fill the coffee pot at the sink. Patton, with his shining eyes and quivering lip.

Fuck.

Janus poured the water from the coffee pot into the reservoir, slid the coffee pot into place, gently pressed the button. He stared at the coffee maker until the first drops fell into the coffee pot, tugging at the fingertips of his gloves. It would be so easy to just turn around and go back to the living room. He could even drop a hint and send Logan in. So why couldn't Janus move?

Oh, he knew why.

He set his jaw and turned around, staring down at Patton. "I'm great at consoling people," he said in a voice that came out wrong, all accusatory and angry.

"You don't have to," Patton said, not meeting his gaze. "It's not your job."

"No, I-- That's not what--" Excellent. Janus just loved getting tongue-tied like some flustered adolescent would-be Romeo. Good thing he wasn't defined by his silver tongue. "Feel free to jump in here."

"I don't want to tell you," Patton said in a low voice. "I don't want to make it your problem."

"Like I won't get it out of you one way or another." Janus sat down and crossed his legs, the better to look Patton in the eye without looming over him. Behind him, the coffee maker hissed and gurgled.

"I miss Roman and Virgil, that's all. I'm worried about them."

"I'm sorry I asked."

It was meant to be a joke, but Patton only looked more anguished. "I'm sorry! It's not your job to-- I don't want to make you feel like I blame you for what happened…"

Janus braced himself. "But…?"

"But nothing," Patton said. "I'm sorry; I know I'm being silly."

Ugh. Janus remembered the stab of guilt that had struck him when he'd realized that he might have hurt Remus. How panicked he felt at the idea that Remus might be angry with him. The fear in knowing that Remus' anger would be justified. A nauseating wave of empathy hit Janus with the force of a speeding semi-truck striking a pixelated frog. "Patton, you don't blame yourself do you?"

"I don't know." Patton's voice nearly cracked. He swallowed hard and looked, beseeching, at Janus. "I'm the one who… You know." He waved a hand, presumably to indicate 'morphed into a giant frog-man and tried to kill Thomas and his friends.'

Janus stood at a crossroads. Telling Patton it wasn't his fault would be tantamount to admitting his own guilt.

And hadn't he pushed Patton to the breaking point? Hadn't he aligned the pieces on the chess board? Hadn't he-- His head spun and his stomach dropped. Hadn't he puppeted Roman on his makeshift stage and cast him aside when he was no longer needed? Hadn't he?

But then again. Hadn't it been worth it? Janus would take all the turmoil of the past few days a thousand times over if it meant Thomas would listen to him . Janus had done what he'd had to do, and it had been a net gain for him.

Janus stood at a crossroads, and he walked straight between them, kicking up dust and rocks beneath his feet.

"It was an accident," he said to Patton. "Sometimes, things just happen and it's nobody's fault."

"I guess," Patton said, though he didn't look all that convinced. "You're probably right. You're usually right. You're really smart, Janus."

Janus waited for the other shoe to drop: some insult about his character or choices, but nothing came. Patton tilted his head. "Thank you," Janus choked.

He stood and wheeled around to face the coffee maker but nearly lost his balance and had to clutch the countertop for support. He would keep it to one cup of coffee today and spend the rest of the day hydrating and, more importantly, not having hard emotional conversations with people who made him want to re-examine his entire moral compass.

Not that Patton made him-- Oh, who was Janus kidding? Janus would walk one thousand miles through the desert on his knees if Patton asked him to.

So long as he could complain about it the whole time.

"I'm waffle-y sorry for being such a downer," Patton said. "Want me to make you breakfast?"

Janus stared at the drip-drip of the coffee as it fell into the pot. "Why do you do that?"

"Why do I do what?"

"Cook. It seems like a lot of work when you could just…" Janus snapped his fingers.

Patton either chose not to point out Janus' hypocrisy in brewing coffee or, more likely, didn't think to mention it. "Well, honestly, I like the work," he said. "It feels personal and… Well, it feels like love ."

Janus swallowed hard. "Oh," was all he could think to say. He stared at his warped reflection in the half-filled coffee pot.

"So," Patton said. "Can I make you breakfast?"

Janus lurched forward, putting more of his weight into his hands where they connected with the edge of the counter, and let his head hang. What was wrong with him? Words circled his head in a whirlwind and evaded all his attempts to string them together into complete thoughts.

“Janus?” Patton prompted. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine ,” Janus snapped, acting on pure instinct. He turned around and forced himself to look Patton in the eye. “Sorry.” The word felt foreign and uncomfortable in his dry mouth. “Yes, Patton. I would appreciate it very much if you made me breakfast.”

Patton took this behavioral change in stride, perhaps even with a knowing look in his eye. Janus realized with a creeping sense of unease that Virgil had probably been equally skittish when he’d made the move from Dark to Light. But Patton didn’t comment on Janus' disgusting predictability. He only smiled and said, “Great! Do you like blueberry pancakes?”

Janus didn’t, not really, nor was he particularly hungry. Janus said, “Yes” and forced himself to smile.

“Perfect." Patton half-turned away before turning back to Janus. “Oh, yeah! Logan said he had something he wanted to ask you.”

Janus manifested a coffee mug onto the counter (the same black and yellow ouroboros one that Patton had visualized for him) and reached for the coffee pot. “Trying to get rid of me?”

“No!” Patton yelped. “I’d actually really like it if you stayed in here with me. Not that I can’t be alone with my thoughts! Because I can and I’m fine. But you’re still kind of an unknown and that scares me and I’d like to get to know you better-- Oh, gosh, um, not that you scare me! I don’t think you’re scary. Unless you want me to think you’re scary? I know Virgil kind of had a whole complex about that. N-not that I think you and Virgil are necessarily anything alike!”

Someday, Janus was going to let Patton keep going just to see how deep he would dig himself. But today was not that day. Today, Janus wanted to sit down and take care of this exhaustion before it turned into something worse. “Patton, relax.”

“I’m relaxed!” Patton said, his shoulders hiked up nearly to his ears.

“I was just teasing you.”

“I knew that.” Patton flushed and pushed his glasses up. “Forget I said anything, okay?”

“Already forgotten.” Janus smiled, actually smiled to reassure Patton that he wasn’t angry. Because he didn’t want Patton to be scared of him. Pain bored into the back of Janus’ skull like a railroad spike propelled by dynamite. Two aspirin jumped into his hand before he even realized he had summoned then. He swallowed them with a mouthful of piping hot coffee and only just managed not to cough.

“You okay?” Patton asked.

A thousand sarcastic misdirections died on Janus’ lips. “Just a headache.”

Patton nodded.

For a moment, they stared at each other with eyes locked. It was Janus who turned away, covering his face under the pretense of swiping his hair out of his eyes. “I’d better go see what Logan wants.”

He fled the warmth and earnestness of Patton’s presence and the trenchant blade of his own desire. When he reached the living room, he forced himself to calm down and took a seat in one of the recliners that stood perpendicular to the couch so he could face Logan. “You had a question for me?”

Logan vanished the book he was reading before Janus could get a good look at the cover. Damn, that could have provided useful insight into Logan's interests. “More of a request for information, to be perfectly clear," Logan said. "I’m interested in Remus.”

“Well,” Janus said, seizing the opportunity for a bit of fun, “I’m not so sure he feels the same way about you, but I suppose I could make an inquiry.”

Logan kept his face blank but Janus could tell from the way his irises twitched and his cheeks darkened that he had understood the joke and was choosing not to acknowledge it. “I’m sorry; I should have been more clear. What I meant is that I am interested to know more about Remus as an individual. A ‘person,’ if you will.”

“I will.” Logan raised an eyebrow and drew the corners of his mouth down in an expression of tense irritation. “You don’t like being teased,” Janus said out loud.

“I don’t find it conducive to productive conversation, no.”

“Well, far be it from me to want to impede scientific advancement.” Janus touched his fingertips to his chest. “Did you have any specific questions about Remus?”

“Yes.” Logan leaned in, a new spark in his eyes. “I was curious about his behavior last night. He was only interested in staying when he felt that he wasn’t wanted-- When he was considered ‘intrusive.”

“Yes.”

“Is that behavior inherent or learned?”

Janus thought for a moment. Logan didn’t like sarcasm. He didn’t want to be teased. So Janus steeled himself and told the truth. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you.”

Logan nodded, head bowed in disappointment. “I had feared you might say that. In that case, Janus, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Janus tried not to wince. He was tired. He really wasn’t in the mood to navigate the potential minefield of Remus as a topic of conversation. On the other hand, he could use all the favor he could get for the inevitable moment that Roman and Virgil emerged and protested his newfound position in the Light. Logan could be a strong ally in that conflict. “Oh? Let’s hear it.” He settled back in his chair and stared at Logan over the top of his coffee mug. At least the headache had receded a little, now only flaring up when he turned his head too fast.

“I am more than happy to speak to Remus directly. In fact, I would prefer it. However, last night demonstrated that Remus is unwilling to engage in social situations where his presence is desired. His rapport with you suggested that this may not always be the case. So I drew the tentative conclusion that you may be able to act as liaison between Remus and me until he feels comfortable conversing with me directly, assuming that time does come. If he really doesn’t want to talk to me, I won’t force the matter.”

Janus took what Logan had said and distilled it to its core: “You want me to arrange a meeting between you and Remus.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Anytime soon?”

“Logically speaking, there’s no hurry,” Logan said, his face neutral. Too neutral.

Janus considered this. “You’re excited,” he said, a smile growing on his face. Ugh, he was excited that Logan was excited. Since when did he care about Logan’s personal growth?

Logan swallowed hard, the line of his jaw sharp and tense. “...Yes,” he said finally. “I am excited. And I don’t wish to impose, but I would prefer you spoke to him sooner rather than later.”

Really, what Janus said next was selfish. “I’ll talk to him today.” It was selfish because it was for his own benefit. Really. If he was responsive to Logan’s desires then Logan would view him in a more favorable light and be more likely to defend him against Roman and Virgil when the time came. That was all. Janus didn’t care about the happiness of pawns and puppets.

Yet still his chest filled with inexplicable warmth and light when Logan smiled (yes, smiled) and said, “Thank you, Janus.”

Janus slid a few inches down in the chair, feeling as wrung-out as he did when he used to stay up all night braiding and weaving his influence into Thomas’ thought patterns. “I certainly won’t hold this over your head. Figuratively.” He slid down a few more inches.

“If you want to avoid falling out of the chair, I suggest you put the footrest out,” Logan said. “The handle is on the left side.”

“Yes, because I’ve never sat in a recliner before,” Janus muttered, balancing his weight on his heels so he didn’t slide out of the chair.

Logan stared at him, eyes calculating. “You may do yourself harm if you hold that position for very long. Ergonomically speaking, the best position for optimal back health is reclining.”

“If you’re going to insist…” Janus scooted back up and pulled the handle, holding up his coffee so it didn’t spill as the chair shifted.

Logan tilted his head. “I wasn’t insisting. I gave you information so you could make an informed decision about how you wanted to sit.”

“...Thanks.” Janus took a long drink of coffee, thought for a moment, and manifested a book that he thought might catch Logan’s attention. He made a show of finding his place in it, and sure enough, Logan shifted like he wanted to say something. Janus looked at him over the top of the gilded hardback copy of Thus Spoke Zarathustra; the most audacious thing he could think of in the moment. He had to balance it with one hand, as the other was still holding his coffee mug, and the spine dug painfully into his leg. He looked at Logan and raised his eyebrows in expectation.

Logan shook his head to indicate he had nothing to say. He summoned his own book, the one he had been reading earlier and, with a look of faux innocence that ill-suited him, turned the cover toward Janus just long enough for him to observe that it was an old chemistry textbook before laying it open on his lap.

Janus sniffed and turned the page in Thus Spoke Zarathustra , not at all embarrassed at having been caught out.

Breakfast meant facing Patton again, which meant dizzy butterflies in Janus' stomach. At least Logan was there, and his presence helped mitigate whatever sinister magic powers Patton had that made Janus go all warm and soft and giddy in his presence.

Janus cut his pancakes into smaller and smaller pieces and drank orange juice like his life depended on it while Patton and Logan revisited an old argument about whether Thomas should adopt a puppy (or several).

They left Janus out of it, which he appreciated for once. Today, he was more than happy to half-listen and dismember his pancakes. It was easier to eat when Patton wasn’t paying attention to him, anyway; the nervous nausea receded like the tide in the absence of the moon of Patton’s focus.

When Janus had downed his fourth glass of orange juice and realized he was bored, he forced himself to tune into Patton and Logan’s argument so he could find a place to strike and excuse himself. There were other, more aggressive ways to command attention, but he wasn’t in the mood to raise his voice or ‘accidentally’ drop his fork, so he waited with his hands folded in his lap.

And waited.

Finally, he abandoned propriety and interrupted. “Do you plan to finish anytime soon or do you intend to hold me hostage here all morning?”

“Oh, sorry, champ.” Patton turned to him, eyes wide and beseeching. “We usually all just talk over each other.”

"Oh, please do call me that again."

"You don't like it?"

"No, I love it. Can't you tell?"

"Sorry, Janus." Patton smiled. "Don't worry, though! I'll find a nickname you like."

"Anything's better than 'reptilian rapscallion,' I guess," Janus muttered. "Anyway. I have business to attend to."

"Okay!" Patton said cheerily. "But one of these days it's gonna be your turn to wash the dishes!"

Janus tipped his hat and sank out. They could have that argument another day.

He found Remus in the living room making a Jenga tower out of chicken bones.

"Business or pleasure?" Janus asked, trying not to sway into the coffee table. It was hard to tell with Remus.

"You drunk?" Remus asked, placing another chicken bone on the tower.

"Hammered," Janus said. He perched himself gingerly on the arm of the couch, though what he really wanted was to collapse with his head in Remus' lap. In any case, a little flattery was in order. "I got your limerick."

"And?"

"It was horrifying, thank you. I burned it."

Remus nodded his approval. "So did you miss me or what?"

"I need a favor."

"From me?" Remus puffed out his cheeks. "Who pissed you off? I haven't heard Roman's dulcet declarations from yonder curtain yet."

"I thought we'd moved past Shakespearean sonnets."

"Sorry, Snakespeare." Remus shrugged. "Some habits are hard to break."

"Mmph." Janus rested his elbow on his knee and his forehead in his palm. He just had to finish up here and then he could have the rest of the day off.

"Sooo who do I need to threaten and/or maim?" Remus asked.

Janus squeezed his eyes shut. "Actually, there's no violence involved. It's a real favor, Remus."

"Well, now you have my attention." Remus shifted on the couch, the beads of his shirt rattling. "Are you dying? You have to tell me if you're dying. And let me watch. And dissect your body. And use your skull as a goblet. Ooh, and--"

"I'm tired." Janus lifted his head and came nose-to-nose with Remus, who was peering at him with his eyes opened as wide as they could go. "And I need you to talk to Logan."

"Oh, yeah? Ol' Tight Ass getting on your nerves? Need me to scare him a little?"

Janus pressed his forehead into Remus'. "No."

"Ooh, you're warm."

Janus tugged at his collar. "It's not like I'm wearing layers or anything."

"So why do I have to hang out with All Time Lo?"

Janus usually cloaked his dealings with Remus in a few layers of reverse psychology and the occasional double entendre for good measure. Today, he just said, "Please."

Remus frowned and drew back. "You're sure you're not dying? Pope John Patton III isn't slowly poisoning you, is he?"

"He doesn't have the guts," Janus said. Remus' eyes lit up so he quickly added, "And I don't want to see yours."

"Aww."

"And if you really want to know… Logan wants to talk to you. As a person."

"And what does this have to do with you?"

Janus sighed and finally gave into his desire to flop over onto the couch. He ended up splayed over Remus' lap with his limbs twisted at uncomfortable angles, but couldn't be bothered to right himself. "Logan asked me to ask you because he rightfully guessed that you wouldn't respond to a direct invitation because you have a complex about showing up where you're not wanted unless I'm involved."

"And you said yes because …?"

"You're right, it's not like me at all to want to have something over someone else." No use showing his whole hand unless he absolutely had to.

"Do you like it over there?' Remus asked. "Is it better than…" He waved his hands.

If Janus owed any side honesty, it was Remus. So he sighed and made an effort to speak plainly; no filibusters about the subjective nature of 'better' and 'worse,' no cryptic half-answers. "I want it for you, Remus. It's tense and it's uncomfortable, but this half-acceptance feels more like home than you could ever conceive of from the shadows. It is better. But it won't be enough until you're there, too."

"Jesus, Janus." Remus fake-gagged a few times. "They're turning you into one softboiled snake." But he shifted and gently arranged Janus' head in his lap, placing Janus' hat on his own head. He ran his fingers through Janus' hair and smoothed his bangs out of his face. Like Janus, Remus preferred to disguise his intentions, usually with irony and shock value. They understood each other in that regard. But now, Remus spoke in calmer tones, and lowered his voice. "Hey, Janus?"

"Yes?"

"If you really do have a thing for Patton--"

"I don't--"

"If you did. I really do hope it works out for you. And I know… There's a change involved with crossing over--"

"I won't--"

Remus placed his hand over Janus' mouth. "I just hope it works out for you, that's all. And I'll talk to Logan. Since you asked."

Janus knew better than to lick Remus' hand. Instead, he kissed it.

"Ew!" Remus yanked his hand back and made a show of wiping it off on his pants. "Save your love and affection for the Guilt Trip Tour Guide." He grabbed Janus by the shoulders and sat him up, placing his hat back on his head. "Now where's Logan?"

"You're doing it now?" Janus coated his disappointment in a veneer of skepticism; he could have easily fallen asleep in Remus' lap if Remus had held still for a few minutes longer.

"Might as well rip the Band-Aid off," Remus said. "And a few layers of skin, too. Did you know that your top layer of skin is called the horny layer?"

"Charming," Janus said.

"I aim to please," Remus said. He stood and did a little shimmy.

"Guaranteed to satisfy," Janus agreed.

Remus sank out, leaving Janus alone on the couch. He forced himself to get up before he fell asleep, and walked over to the curtain to listen for a few seconds. There was no sound of screaming, no sound of Remus cackling in fiendish delight, so Janus had to assume that everything was going smoothly.

He sank out and chose to manifest back in the Light Sides' living room. Now he could relax, because he certainly wasn't worried about how Remus' interaction with Logan would go.

"Hi, Janus!" Patton said, springing up from the floor.

If Janus had been startled by this, he would have jumped and gasped, but since he wasn't, he remained still. His heart rattled against his ribcage until he could feel it in his stomach. He took in a breath so deep it made his lungs ache and sat down on the couch. "Patton."

"What are you up to?"

"...Training for the Olympic canoe slalom."

Patton blinked. "So you have time to talk?"

"I suppose…" Janus said, trying to telegraph his irritation without making Patton think that Janus was mad at him. It was a delicate operation, and Janus must have erred too far on the side of caution, because Patton's smile never faltered for a moment. "Great."

He sat down next to Janus, and the inches between their bodies pierced Janus' heart like a deadly insult. But he knew better than anyone that it took more than desire to breach a gap. "I hope I'm not in trouble."

"Of course not!" Patton said. "I'm not-- I mean, I don't think I-- Oh. You're teasing."

"Good of you to notice."

"Um, anyway. I wanted to, um… I wanted…"

"Take your time. I've got all day." Though he played it off as such, the yawn that Janus stifled behind his hand wasn't fake.

"I want to talk about philosophy with you!" Patton said all in one breath.

"Oh," Janus said. He studied the back of one gloved hand. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"We can start small."

"I take it you had something in mind?"

Patton nodded vigorously. "Ends and means."

Janus swallowed. "Well," he said, feeling for all the world like he had just walked into a trap. "By all means, start us off."

"Um," said Patton. "Well. Um." He cleared his throat. "Ah."

"Fascinating. Go on?"

"I'm trying to think of an example that doesn't involve," Patton dropped his voice to a whisper, "murder."

"That's probably a good idea."

"Okay, I don't know, let's say I had this really awesome recipe for strawberry shortcake. And, uh, Logan was trying to make one from scratch for Ro-- For your birthday."

"Mmhm." Janus raised the corners of his lips in what was supposed to be an encouraging smile while he feverishly tried to figure out where Patton was going with this. Preferably before Patton got there, so he could steer the conversation as needed.

"And say Logan was making a real mess of it, and I knew you would be disappointed to receive a not-so-good cake for your birthday. So I go into the kitchen and try to nicely hint that Logan should use my recipe, but he's not having it. Now, I really want you to have a nice birthday cake, so I finally snap and tell Logan that he's no good at baking and he needs to listen to me. And he gets upset and doesn't come to your birthday party, but I make you an awesome strawberry shortcake and you really enjoy it. And all the guests have a wonderful time, even though a few of them really miss Logan and wish he was there."

"Ah, yes," said Janus. "Rousseau's famous strawberry shortcake thought experiment." He rubbed his thumb across his temple a few times. The sooner he helped Patton get to his point, the sooner he could finally relax. "What's the question?"

"Since everybody at the party was happy, including you, the birthday boy, did the ends justify the means?"

Janus squinted, but Patton's face was the very picture of innocence. "It's Logan's fault," he said slowly, "for letting his emotions cloud the bigger picture. If he had just listened to you in the first place , no one would be upset."

"So the ends justified the means because the result was good?"

"Sure. You knew that your plan was the better one."

"So you could say that I was entitled to behave in a way that hurt Logan? Because I knew better than he did?"

"That's what I said," Janus snapped. He took a deep breath through his nose. Patton was behaving with picture-perfect decorum, so Janus had no need to lash out like a cornered animal. "I'm saying Logan shouldn't be hurt. He should think for 3 seconds and realize that he was standing in the way of the greater good."

"But he is hurt," Patton said. "I hurt him. There's no 'should' about it."

"What do you think, then?"

"Obviously I think I should apologize to Logan!" Patton said. "I had no right to hurt him like that."

"So you don't think there's any end result that would have justified those means."

"That's right," Patton said, nodding so hard that his glasses slid to the tip of his nose. "Being mean is a bad means. And maybe someone smarter than me has already said it in better words, but I don't think anyone has the right to hurt another person, no matter what the end goal is. Um, e-especially over something as small as cake."

Janus' first choice of response to this was a new thought experiment involving murder. But that felt a little mean-spirited, even for him and oh, the ends of winning a debate against Patton wouldn't have justified the means of playing dirty to do so. Janus buried his face in his hands. "What if you didn't care about Logan?" he murmured into his gloved palms. Pain pulsed through his head.

"What?" Patton said.

Janus moved his hands so only his mouth was uncovered. "What if you didn't care about Logan? What if you thought he was a pompous ass whose only relevance to you was as an obstacle between you and making a really awesome cake ?"

"My answer hasn't changed," Patton said. "And it's not going to."

"What if you explained yourself and Logan humiliated you in front of everyone ?" Janus used his fingertips to apply pressure to his browbone, but the pain only increased.

"His wrong wouldn't negate my wrong," Patton said gently. He rested his hand on Janus' knee.

Fireworks exploded behind Janus' eyelids. Why did it have to be Patton ? And why did Patton have to be right? He'd even gone to the trouble of presenting his point in Janus' preferred terms, even if his debate skills left something to be desired. "You can go ahead and give me the lecture if you want," Janus mumbled. Shame burned bright and hot inside him and flames danced along the seams of his clothing, pinpricks of irritation on his skin.

"Janus, look at me." Patton's thumb rubbed small circles on Janus' knee.

Janus dropped his hands. The light flashed into his eyes and made him flinch. "Go ahead."

"I don't want to lecture you," Patton said. "I mean, a part of me does. But I realize now that I can't just do that. The only authority I have over you is the authority you want to give me, and I have a feeling that's not much."

Janus scoffed. "You'd be surprised." He looked at Patton's hand and clenched his own into two fists. "I'll… I'll think about apologizing to Roman. I'm getting good at it, these days."

Patton jerked his head up and something seemed to click for him, an unasked question answered. "You apologized to Logan."

Janus nodded, but no happiness touched his heart at the look of approval in Patton's eyes. He just felt shaky and sick and very, very tired. "I didn't mean to, but…"

"You realized you'd hurt him?"

"It helps that he didn't mock me to my face." A particularly intense wave of pain flashed from the base of Janus' skull to his temples and he winced. On impulse, he dug his fingers into the side of his head just beneath the brim of his hat. It didn't help.

"Does your head still hurt?" Patton asked.

Janus nodded. No sense lying now, not about something as petty as this, and especially not now that Patton had a floodlight on him. If Janus was playing 4D chess, he was doing so on the 20 yard line of Patton's football field and he kept. getting. tackled. "It's getting worse."

"Do you usually get headaches like this?"

"No."

"Well," Patton patted Janus' knee and withdrew his hand. "It's been a stressful few days."

Janus blinked, staring at the spot where Patton's hand had been. His thoughts came slow and syrupy.

"Patton?"

"Yeah?"

Janus struggled to keep his eyes open. The gentle honey-toned lights of the living room might as well have been high wattage LEDs beamed straight into his retinas. He blinked away tears. "I'm sorry." Patton gave him a sad smile. Janus continued, brushing away a tear that clung stubbornly to his upper lashes. "I pushed you to your breaking point on purpose. I used you. I-- I tried to push you down for the sake of pulling myself up." Pain flashed through his head and he squeezed his eyes shut against it. "I don't even know if I'm doing this right," he admitted. "I'm sorry I hurt you, but… Hurting you got me what I wanted."

"Hey, kid-- Janus, I think you'd better call it a day," Patton said. There was a nervous edge to his voice that Janus didn't have the mental bandwidth to try to decipher. "Try to sleep off that headache, okay? We can talk about this later."

The pain was so all-consuming, so violent in its demands for Janus' full attention that he wasn't even capable of defending his pride. A vague, hollow shame made its home in his chest. He stood, joints protesting, but Patton stopped him before he could sink out.

"You don't have to go."

Janus nodded and sank back down onto the couch, slowly, so Patton had time to stand up and get out of his way. It made sense. It wasn't like Patton was going to stroke his hair and share his warmth just because Janus wanted it.

Even if he asked.

Patton said something that Janus didn't quite make out before he slipped into unawareness.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #moceit #patton sanders #janus sanders #spicywrites #spicywrites soft-shoe shuffle #song featured: it's my job - jimmy buffett

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segafan37 · 3 years

Text

Shadamy Snippet: Emergency Meeting Pt. 1

Author's Note:

This Shadamy snippet used to be a Teaser Snippet for Chapter 6. I wasn't planning for it to be part of the story at all. It was just a old deleted scene that I wanted to share to give you, the audience, a broad idea about the upcoming chapter. However, after my sister read the teaser, she insisted that it be apart of the story. So, after some tweaks, the former Teaser Snippet is now apart of Chapter 6!

I hope you enjoy it! 😁 Art by @drawloverlala

Inside Dodon Pa's Mansion

[Normal p.o.v.]

After Metal and Rouge parted ways to look for Devious, Rouge started wandering through the different crowded rooms and corridors of the mansion. There were four levels to the mansion and Rouge was currently on the main floor. Metal ventured to levels 3 and 4, leaving Rouge to explore the others.

King Donda Pa was never one who lacked in abundance and his mansions were likewise. Each one was styled to attribute the environment that surrounded them, and the one Rouge was in was no different.

The mansion was large and fanciful, displaying the breath of winter. The hallways were long and wide and painted a calm blue. Tall windows filled the rooms and corridors showcasing the fierce blizzards outside.

The halls were decorated with broad tapestries of cream and royal blue, and the floor was polished marble. The rooms were equally vast with crystal chandilers, honed marble floors and many assortment of decor to accent the rooms.

Rouge scanned the multitude of faces as she made her way throughout the main floor. Everywhere Rouge went she was surrounded by Mobians, both good and bad. Everyone seemed cordial enough, but the bat knew better. She could just feel the tension in the air.

Rogue would have been lying to herself if she said this whole affair wasn't the least bit unsettling. It was just a matter of time before something or someone causes the inevitable.

It took a whole hour, but she had finally explored all of the main floor. Rouge still hadn't found her man though. It was time for her to switch tactics.

Just then her communicator picked up a male voice.

"We can't celebrate yet. We still need Rouge to do her part."

It was the voice of Slinger the Ocelot.

"Don't you worry your pretty head about me, Ocelot." Rouge cooed, "I'm already in the mansion, and I've got to say, this mysterious dealer knows how to put on a party! I'm surprised that Dodon Pa even allowed this event! But seeing that he never takes sides...I guess it's not too surprising."

"Hey Rouge!" a female voice squealed through her eyepiece.

Rouge immediately smiled. It was Salkia, her sweet little student. Well, she wasn't little anymore, but Rouge couldn't get the cute little 10 year old out of her head, who wanted to learn how to kick but.

"If any of the food looks good, save me some! Okay!?" Salkia asked.

"Will do, honey!"

Slinger gave out a groan.

"Just stay focused, alright!"

Rouge rolled her eyes. She could tell he was in one of his moods again.

"Relax, Slinger. No need to get snippy!" she said.

"Yeah! We all know you're jealous!" Salkia added.

"Mm hmm!" Rouge smiled.

Slinger released another groan, which made Salkia giggle. She knew she shouldn't be teasing Slinger when he's like this, but he's been acting like a big grump the whole day. And she was tired of it!

Salkia and Rouge continued to pester Slinger with their giggles, until he finally spoke.

"That's not the reason why!" Slinger argued.

This made Rouge and Salkia both fall silent. They knew what he was talking about. [Author: Chapter 4 reference] No one spoke for sometime.

Rouge sighed and decided to change the subject and break the awkward silence.

"By the way, what do you mean by 'Rouge needs to do her part'? You two are the ones assigned to get the package! I'm just here in case there's a slip-up."

"And to secure our escape route!" Slinger emphasized.

"Which I already have covered!" Rouge insisted, "Now you stay focused on your job, while I stay on mine."

Slinger sighed. "Fine. We'll contact you when the package is secured."

Rouge's communicator went silent and she continued to make her way through the crowd, as different fragments of conversations caught her ears.

"I wonder what makes this relic so powerful?" asked a female.

"Whatever it is I bet it's worth a fortune!" another spoke.

"Everyone's assuming that this relic has power, but for all we know, it could be a hunk of junk!"

"Well, if that were true, then Dodon Pa wouldn't have allowed this event to take place in his mansion in the first place."

Well, would you look at that!, Rouge laughed to herself. It seems everyone's here to get their hands on the relic. Huh! Too bad none of them will have a chance to see it!

"What I really want to know" a male's voice began, grabbing her attention, "is who this mysterious dealer is? He clearly doesn't care who gets the relic as long as he's getting paid. And I for one, don't trust those kinds of people. If I'm going to get that relic, I need to first know who I'm dealing with."

"Smart guy." Rouge whispered, as she approached the stairs to the second floor.

"Okay Rouge, enough eavesdropping. You got a Mobian to find."

Once atop the second floor, she looked about and immediately identified this level as the party floor. The music was louder here and gambling tables, slot vendors, pool tables and the like were scattered throughout the joining rooms. Rouge felt like she had walked into a casino.

Rouge peered over the corridor's open railing, and took one last look at the faces below, trying to find the one Mobian who would know how to pinpoint Devious. But she had no such luck. Rouge sighed. She knew it was a long shot. This guy was wanted after all, but Rouge couldn't ignore her strong hunch that he'd be here.

Rouge gritted her teeth in frustration.

Where is he!?

Time was of the essence. She and Metal only had a limited amount of time to locate Devious, before Salkia and Slinger collected the relic. If her sources were correct, the best and only person who could find Devious quickly would be his favorite broker.

Rouge looked over the crowd again, but she still couldn't spot her man.

That cat could be hiding anywhere! I better check in with Metal to see how he's doing.

"Metal, honey? This is Rouge. Do you copy?"

There was no answer.

"Metal, come in! This is Rouge. Did you find anything?"

Still silence. Rouge was about to try again, when a deep sinister voice startled her from behind.

"Looking for someone in particular, my dear?"

Rouge spun around to come face to face with the infamous psychic magician Mammoth Mongul.

His large tan trunk was almost touching her nose. Rouge could smell thick expensive cologne and winsted.

It was never easy to frazzle this bat; she has faced many dangers before, all without hesitation. Some, even close to death, but Rouge also knows when she's met her match.

The hairy elephant towered over the bat, making her appear small and insignificant. Mongul's dark green orbs pierced through Rouge's teal eyes, paralyzed her. She remained in his gaze for ten full seconds.

A small smile slowly crept on the mammoth's face. Was Rouge terrified? Yes. Did she want to scream and fly away to safety? Yes. Was she going to show it? Not on her life!

The Bat released herself from Mongul's spell; eyes sparkling with defiance, as she matched the beast's smile with her own.

"I'm surprised at you, Mongul!" Rouge scolded, "You of all people should know not to be here! It could be dangerous for you."

Mongul smiled at the bat's attempted threat, and decided to give one of his own.

"My dear, Rouge. I appreciate your concern but I can assure you that I am not the one who is in the least bit of danger."

"Is that so?" Rouge questioned, trying to sound unaffected by his words, "Well, even still! I would think you would send one of your mindless followers to get the relic for you to save you the trouble."

"Don't be so quick to judge, bat. I have sent one of my men to take care of the relic. I'm here for a different reason, and being here is no trouble at all."

Rouge raised a painted brow, "Oh?"

"Yes. Just like you, I'm looking for someone, a colleague of mine." Mongul leaned down to bring his face closer to Rouge's ear. "And perhaps", he whispered "my colleague is the same pink cat dealer you're looking for."

Rouge took a step back.

How does he know about Locky!?

Rouge swallowed, as her heart raced.

"I'm sorry, who?"

"No need to hide it, Rouge! Someone of your acquaintance told me all about it."

Rouge gasped.

Oh no, Metal!

"No need to worry about your robot friend, my dear; he's perfectly safe. But I know he'll appreciate your concern."

As he said this, Mongul's eyes met Rouge's and his distinct facial features began to pixelate before her. It was just for a brief moment, but Rouge could clearly see the face of her comrade.

"..."

"Metal, …" Rouge whispered, "I'm gonna knock your bolts right out of you! And turn you into scrap!"

Metal Sonic quickly returned to his cloned form and moved out the way, before a slap could be delivered to his face. Some guests saw the scene and were shocked at Rouge's bravery.

"Why so anger?..." Metal Sonic questioned. His voice was just above a whisper. "Did I scare you?"

"Shut. Up." Rouge growled.

"Okay, okay! I just came down to tell you some news." Metal rose to his full cloned height and peered down at Rouge.

"Then start talking!"

"Not here." Metal instructed, still holding Mongul's deep voice. "Follow me."

Metal brought Rouge to a quiet room somewhere on the second floor. It wasn't like the ballroom, like the other rooms Rouge been in. This was a study. It was large in comparison to most studies, but it was still a study, none the less.

Once both were safely inside with the door locked, Rouge turned to Metal.

"Now, talk!"

"Why are you still angry?" Metal still was using Mongul's voice.

"Metal, stop with the cloning for one second and talk to me!"

Metal sighed, and returned back to his normal self. Rouge let out a small breath she didn't realize she was holding. Rouge folded her arms, waiting to hear her comrade's message.

"I was surprised at how many Mobians came to Dodon Pa's Mansion." Metal said simply."

"That's what you wanted to tell me!?" Rouge screamed.

"Rouge, if you do not wish for us to be discovered in a restricted area, I suggest you lower the volume of your voice."

"I'll start lowering my voice, when you stop messing around! Now, tell me why you brought me here!?"

There was a silence in the air, as each stared at the other.

"I found him." Metal calmly spoke.

"What?"

"I found him." Metal repeated, "I found Locky."

Exsert from Shadamy fanfic "12 Years Later: A New Dawn". You can read the rest of this chapter and more on Wattpad, DeviantArt, Quotev, or Webnovel.

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