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Patton hated crying.
He knew that it was supposed to be good for you. Having a “good cry” was supposed to be a big release of emotion that left you feeling a little empty, but also feeling better, more settled afterward.
All Patton felt during and after crying was stuffy sinuses and a headache.
It was one reason why Patton loved his room. It didn’t make him work through his emotional pain, it soothed it away. He felt safe and warm and happy and comforted until whatever was making him upset didn’t feel like such a big deal anymore.
And maybe that was “unhealthy” or “repression”, but Patton was fine! He didn’t need to make a big deal over every little thing that happened to him. Yes, sometimes the actual problem at the root of his feelings needed to be addressed, but once the problem was solved, or at least started being worked on, then the bad feelings would go away!
Right?
Right.
He was fine. This was fine.
So maybe he wasn’t feeling his best today, and maybe that second cookie hadn’t made him feel as better as he’d thought it would, and maybe he’d had to leave to go hide relax in his room for a little while, but it was fine. He was already starting to feel a little better! In a bit, he’d be right as rain, and ready to go back downstairs.
Knock, knock.
Okay. Maybe he’d have to put on a happy face a little bit before he was entirely ready to do it genuinely, but he was always there if his kiddos wanted him!
Patton opened the door to see -
“Janus?”
“Patton.” The other side nodded at him. “I did wonder where you were. I didn’t miss you this afternoon.”
Patton smiled as he wracked his brain trying to remember if he’d made plans with Janus. “Oh, I just -” Janus can sense lies, “- thought that it would be a good idea to organize Memory Lane a bit.” It was a good idea to do that, Patton should probably do that if he could just get himself out of this funk already.
Janus’s polite smile never wavered, and Patton suddenly remembered that he could sense lies of omission too. Well, fudge.
“Ah, I understand,” Janus said smoothly, apparently (mercifully) not calling Patton out. “I don’t suppose, however, I could tempt you away for a bit?”
Okay, scratch that bit about him being merciful. “Oh, I don’t know,” Patton dithered, scrambling for a believable excuse.
“Please?” Janus said, surprising Patton into silence. “I wouldn’t appreciate the company.”
Patton hesitated, but, well. He was always there if his kiddos wanted him.
Patton stepped out of his doorway, fixing a smile on his face to hide his wince as he was removed from the effects of his room.
Janus offered his elbow to Patton, like an old-fashioned gentleman, and Patton’s smile got a little easier as he took it. Janus led him to the living room, where there was a pile of blankets stacked on the end on the couch, which had more pillows on it than it had when Patton had come out that morning. Two steaming mugs sat on the coffee table, one with a tea bag hanging in it and one with marshmallows floating on the top.
“I thought that we could watch Steven Universe,” Janus said softly.
Patton beamed at him. “Sounds great kiddo!” And it did, Patton was glad that Janus had chosen an activity that didn’t require too much effort or energy. At the same time, Patton wished that Janus had chosen an activity that required more effort or energy so that it could distract Patton from his thoughts, which had begun to cloud over again without the interference from his room.
Patton was almost able to lose himself in the show, but after a few minutes of (what probably should have been a) comfortable silence, Janus spoke up.
“How’s your day been?”
Okay, that was cheating. “Mm,” Patton hummed noncommittally. “Your tea bag is still in the mug,” he changed the subject. He knew that Janus was very fussy about his tea, always making sure the water was just the right temperature and the tea steeped exactly long enough.
“I know,” Janus said, taking another sip of it. He paused a moment before continuing, “I wanted something bitter right now.”
And yes, every side had different tastes, but still - “Why?”
Janus swirled his mug around a little, staring down at the bottom of the cup. “Lies taste sweet,” he said, with what sounded like a complete non-sequitur. “When there’s a lot of them, they get...cloying. Sticky. Overly sugary. I don’t like eating or drinking sweet things when there’s a lot of lies being told, I prefer something bitter or sour to try to clear the taste a little.” He paused again, then said, quieter, “That’s why I don’t eat the sweets you make when I’m around you.”
It took a moment for that to sink in fully before Patton let out a sigh and slumped. “I’m sorry.”
“I would say it’s alright, except it’s clearly not. You’re not.”
“I’m fine.”
“Patton, I don’t think that phrase has ever been said truthfully by anyone, and even Remus could tell that you weren’t telling the truth right then.”
A bolt of white-hot anger coursed through Patton's veins. What did Janus know? He clearly could tell that Patton wasn’t feeling his best, why did he have to drag him out and start prying? Maybe self-care to Patton was taking his mind off of his problems and not whatever it was that Janus thought was best for him.
Patton took a deep breath and calmed himself down, letting go of the anger. Being in charge of most of Thomas’s emotions made him…well, emotional. Temperamental. He’d gotten better at controlling it over the years, recent slip-ups aside. Besides, he was overreacting (as usual). He should give Janus a chance, and listen to what he had to say (Patton had learned his lesson about listening over and over. Maybe it would stick one of these times).
Okay. Calm down. He could calm down. He couldn’t stop feeling, it was too much. Deep breath. What was it Janus said? Right, he wasn’t okay. Janus wanted him to admit that. Patton couldn’t do that. So he needed to figure out something to say that wouldn’t taste like any sort of lie, half-true or otherwise. A tall order, but he had to say something before his silence dragged on for too long -
The back of a gloved hand gently brushed across Patton’s cheek. His thoughts stuttered to a confused halt, and he looked back at Janus. Mismatched eyes looked back at him steadily, not showing a hint of what Janus was feeling behind them.
“I know you already got the lecture on repression a while ago, and I’m sure you don’t remember it. I’m definitely going to bother you by repeating it anyway, though.”
Patton looked away again, blinking fast. His throat was tightening, his sinuses were starting to fill, and his eyes were getting hot, and he was pretty sure that if he kept eye contact with Janus then he was going to start crying. “It’s just a bad day,” he tried. “Those happen.”
Patton felt Janus shrug. “Just because you can’t think of a reason why you feel bad doesn’t mean that you still don’t feel bad, and it certainly doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve help.”
Well. Turns out eye contact wasn’t the issue.
The tears that he was trying to keep back overflowed. Patton held the back of his hand to his mouth in an ineffectual attempt to stifle his sobs.
“Oh, darling,” he heard Janus murmur, before feeling two hands pull him in, one of them rubbing his back soothingly. Patton sobbed into Janus’s capelet, feeling incredibly embarrassed at the tears and snot he was leaking onto it, but Janus didn’t make any motion of discomfort. “It’s alright, darling, just let it out.”
And Patton did, crying and sobbing and bawling. He felt embarrassed and burdensome and still upset from earlier, but Janus didn’t make him speak, didn’t try to draw out what it was that was troubling him, just murmured soothing comforts in Patton’s ear that blended together after a while into a reassuring white noise.
Patton eventually cried himself out, head still resting on the wet spot of Janus’s capelet. He felt more than heard Janus make a motion with his hands - it probably would have been a snap, if the other side weren’t wearing gloves - and the fabric was suddenly dry and warm.
Janus nudged him back up a bit, just enough to begin cleaning his face off with a handkerchief that had either been summoned or produced from somewhere on Janus’s person.
Part of Patton felt a little patronized at the action - he was supposed to be the parental figure - but the other part of him that eventually won out leaned into the action. “Feel any better?” Janus asked softly.
Better? Patton felt tired, wrung out, still upset - though that was dulled now, likely by his fatigue - and just a little bitter at Janus for dragging him out of his room and making him go through this, and even more bitter at himself for not being able to keep it together enough to avoid this in the first place. “No.”
Janus huffed a laugh. “Fair.” He tossed the handkerchief in the general direction of the coffee table, and guided Patton’s head back onto his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Patton whined, too tired to be embarrassed enough to keep it back. “Please no.”
“Okay,” Janus said simply, instantly taking a weight off of Patton’s shoulders. “That’s alright.”
Patton sighed into the fabric. “You don’t have to sit here with me, he muttered. “I’m sure you have other things to do.”
“You mean like help Thomas’s wellbeing?” Janus began rubbing Patton’s back again, hand firm and soothing. “I’d say this doesn’t count at all.” Patton huffed a laugh through his nose. “Do you want me to call any of the others in?”
Patton turned his head inwards, into the crook of Janus’s neck. “If you want,” he said softly.
“I wasn’t asking that because I thought you should or shouldn’t, I was asking what you wanted.”
“...Not yet, please?”
“Alright, I’ll definitely call them in then,” Janus said, leaning back into the sofa a little more, taking Patton with him. He was still rubbing Patton’s back soothingly, while two more arms held him close, and a fourth started playing with Patton’s hair. “We can just sit here for a while, you don’t have to do anything, dear.” A fifth hand apparently reached over to the coffee table to grab the remote and turn the show back on, which Patton belatedly realized that Janus had paused earlier. Patton didn’t bother turning his head to face the screen, keeping it tucked into Janus’s neck for as long as the other side was alright with it.
And - okay, the crying didn’t feel like it had helped. This, though? This maybe did.