Chapter Text
Deceit pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. His footsteps echoed through the empty hallways, and he spent a brief bit of his lagging energy to curse Patton for putting the idea of a Mind Palace into Thomas’s head. Travel had been so much easier when everything was a moving jumbled mess.
All he had to do on days like these - when he was far too spent to simply appear wherever he wanted - was wait for a lie to cross Thomas’s thoughts and stroll right back into his room.
But no, the “light” sides had thought more organization would be better for Thomas. A constructive, well-ordered mind bred happiness. Deceit scoffed, ignoring the way that his form trembled and the chill crept into his bones. Well-ordered just meant that it was easier for lies to slip through the cracks. It meant more work for Deceit.
That wasn’t even scratching the surface of how they had messed with the border that Deceit carefully maintained in Thomas’s mind. It wasn’t Deceit’s fault that Thomas didn’t want to think about what other sort of Sides he could have. Frankly, Deceit would blame Roman and his ridiculously ominous naming. “Dark Sides,” ha.
They hadn’t complained about him hiding Virgil from Thomas until Thomas’s friends had cracked the wall. Self-deception only held on for so long. Virgil had slipped out in that time, and while everything had turned out alright in the end-
Deceit shoved thoughts of the dark, growling figure that Anxiety had been from his mind.
It didn’t matter.
Deceit would protect Thomas, now more than ever, as Virgil went soft. He could ignore the part of his mind that hissed Anxiety could never be soft; that hissed beware beware beware at him. All that mattered was doing his job, and for now that meant resting until he had to return to the crumbling sections of his wall. He needed to do something about the cold that made his limbs sluggish and his fingers tremble.
He wouldn’t be able to keep the Sides Thomas didn’t know about in the dark like this, let alone the other things that Thomas stuffed into the back of his mind.
He strode unsteadily towards the end of the hallway. Turning left would take him back to his room, where he could curl up under a heat lamp and too many blankets for the next couple of days. Right would take him to the clustered area that the other Sides spent most of their time in finding a safety in their numbers, Deceit supposed, rather than isolation and concealment.
He hesitated. He could recover in his room, slowly in the echoing silence. Or he could recover in the warmth of the commons. He felt better after spending time in the brightly lit area; he thought perhaps being closer to Thomas’s attention helped. Whatever the reason, a few hours curled up listening to the shuffling footsteps and conversations - to make sure he wouldn’t be discovered - of the other Sides worked wonders that his room never could.
He rolled his choices around in his head, a stone being worn smooth by a steady stream. Options playing out in his head over and over again. He wanted to go to his own room. It would be safe and comforting. Deceit sighed, and tugged his hat down over his eyes.
He needed to get better as soon as possible to keep a repeat of the Anxiety Incident from happening. Which meant sucking things up and sneaking into the commons for a nap. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done so; it wouldn’t be hard. Deceit gritted his teeth, fingers curling around his hat even more.
He didn’t want to hear Virgil’s laughter. He didn’t want to think about the shivers it sent down his spine or the way that his hair stood on end. He refused to even acknowledge the lighter feelings that it brought. In fact, Deceit didn’t want to think about it at all. Perhaps he would be lucky enough to catch a time that Virgil was busy, or simply holed up in his room.
Deceit let go of his hat, breathing out carefully. He had a job to do, and if nothing else in his life was worth it, Deceit was going to do it well. He had no other reason to exist. He didn’t even have a name after all.
The bitter smirk on Deceit’s face fell away along with his form. Simply walking into the commons would be too obvious after all. Instead, a straw-colored snake made its way carefully down the hall. Slithering was easier than walking in the state he was anyways.
Deceit flicked his tongue out, tasting the air for the other sides. He hissed happily at the lack of them, carefully nudging the door open a little farther with his head. He could taste the cookies that Patton had in the oven; could hear the footsteps of Logan in the area above him. But the room itself was empty, even with a book propped up carefully on the coffee table.
Perfect.
He slid between the feet of the table and chairs until he found his favorite spot in the room. Logan’s favorite chair stood at the perfect height to cast enough shadows that Deceit could curl comfortably underneath it and still be hidden from sight. He curled around himself, over and over again, basking in the warmth slowly sliding across his scales.
He settled into place, not even flinching as the door slammed open. Deceit watched silently as Roman bound into the room. Roman moved past him without another glance, calling out to the others as he did so. Content that he wouldn’t be discovered this time either, Deceit let himself slip into a light doze.
Footsteps came and went around him, Deceit distantly aware of Logan taking a seat in the chair above him at one point. He didn’t bother paying attention to what they said. The bright tones of their voices meant nothing was out of hand; there was nothing to worry about. Occasionally, Roman’s laughter cut through the room, mixing with Patton’s soft giggles. Deceit felt himself melt into the floor, warm and content.
He’d have to go back to work soon, but for now, he’d rest.
Time drifted past much like clouds in the sky. Soft and undisturbed, Deceit let his mind wander as well, thinking about nothing at all. He would have to get back to work soon, whispering things from the shadows and making sure that everything was where it belonged. When his body felt less like a stretched rubber band and more like an actual snake again, then— and only then— would he move.
“Oh, well hello there.”
Deceit jerked back at the voice next to his head. A hiss rose in his throat before he could stop it as the world slammed back into place around him. Roman stared back at him, a gentle expression that Deceit had never seen on his face before. Deceit flinched back from the hand reaching for him, the hood around his neck spreading in warning.
“Come now, small friend,” Roman coaxed, “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Deceit hissed again. Yeah right. Roman’s eyes narrowed briefly before relaxing.
“Ah, I see, yes, it is scary out here, isn’t it?” What? “But if you come out, friend, I can take you home.” What? “I’m not sure how you got out in the first place, but you must be a clever one.”
Deceit’s hiss died down as he stared at Roman in confusion. Did-
Did Roman not know who he was?
Deceit relaxed his hood, struggling to think of a way out of the situation he found himself in. No one had noticed him before. Fear surged as Roman’s hand shot out. Deceit thrashed in his grip as Roman pulled him out from under the chair and up against his chest. Heat surrounded him, and Deceit struggled to remember that curling up in it when there was a danger wasn’t a good idea.
He couldn’t drop his guard. Not ever.
Roman let out a lone crooning noise, running a hand down the scales along the back of his neck. Deceit let out a hiss, half-pleasure and half-anger at the way his body melted at the touch. Why the fuck did Roman know that scratching him there would feel so good?
“There we go,” Roman said gently, “Just like that, small friend, you can trust me. I’m going to take good care of you, gonna get you home where you belong.”
Deceit hissed again, the only protest he could make without giving himself away completely. Roman’s fingers continued their magic. Deceit didn’t know it was possible to relax as much as he did, going boneless in Roman’s grip.
He didn’t know it was possible to be scared of his own body in this way. Remus-
Deceit shook the thought off.
Roman stood up slowly. Deceit pressed against his chest as the ground disappeared, leaving him even more helpless than before. Warmth seeped through his scales, like his heating lamp but even better. He pressed even closer out of instinct. He loved it. He hated it.
Deceit didn’t know what to do.
The world vibrated with every step that Roman took, and with it, Deceit’s panic grew. If Roman took him to the others, Virgil would know it was him almost instantly. At least, Deceit thought he would, and it was the last thing that he wanted or needed at the moment. Virgil would probably throw him out a window, and broken bones were a pain to heal.
Deceit watched as they strode past the other Sides’ rooms, and he sneered mentally at the clearly marked doors instead of focusing on his confusion. If anything happened, anyone would know where to find them. He would have thought that at least Virgil would know better, but it seemed not. Soft, trusting fools, the lot of them. Thomas was lucky to have him, or they all would have all been dead by now.
Roman’s door opened without a touch, and Deceit scoffed. Show off. Deceit’s room didn’t have a door and that’s the way he liked it. No one other than himself would enter it anyways, so he was the only one who needed to find it. Shrouded in shadows, unlike the light Roman bathed himself so willingly in.
Roman turned towards his closet door. Deceit tilted his head to the side. Roman threw the door open and Deceit reeled back at the sudden assault of light and smell that hit him as Roman strode through the door. His tail curled around Roman’s wrist, seeking some form of stability as everything seemed to spiral away from him once more. The Imagination. Shit.
Roman must have assumed he was a Construct that had escaped. Double shit. He wouldn’t survive that Hellscape in the state he was now. He avoided it as much as he could when visiting Remus, choosing instead to simply appear in Remus’ tower rather than risk discorporation.
The wind rolled over his scales, freezing compared to the warmth that came from Roman, and Deceit shivered. Leaves rustled around them, and in the distance Deceit thought he heard the call of a hawk. Deceit didn’t know how large the Imagination was, just that it bordered the Subconsciousness which had fallen under Virgil’s duty. The Wall that separated Remus and Roman didn't need much maintenance; they did that themselves just fine.
Roman shifted his hold, carefully pulling Deceit away from his warmth. Deceit felt relief flood his systems. Roman was going to let him go. He could slip back into the Mind Palace and get away, get back to work. The grass along his belly felt too soft to be real, but he didn’t stop to think about it. He made a break for the door that they had just come out of, intent on leaving.
Roman’s hands clamped around the back of his neck and Deceit let out a vicious hiss as he was lifted off the ground once more.
“Hey now,” Roman said, amusement clear in his voice, “You don’t belong out there. You’re perfectly safe here, I promise.”
Deceit turned his head to stare at Roman’s face. The grin on Roman’s face taunted him and his goal of freedom. Maybe Roman did know it was him and was messing with him in a twisted form of revenge. Remus and Roman had to be similar in some way. Deceit bared his fangs, anger rolling in his gut.
Roman simply laughed.
“You are a feisty one! A true warrior like all my subjects should be. You’re one of Hecate’s, aren’t you? She hasn’t ever won in our games, but if she has more minions like you, she might just stand a chance yet,” Roman said cheerfully.
Hecate? Deceit wished he could blink so that he could convey to Roman just how confused he was. Hecate wasn’t a side; Deceit would know. But Constructs were simple scripted things. Weren’t they?
“Perhaps you need to be returned to her to be satisfied?” Roman asked, holding Deceit closer to his face. Deceit snapped at his nose in disagreement. All he got was more laughter in return. Moron. “Come now, the trip isn’t that far, we should have you home within the day. No need for the drama quite yet.”
Deceit wondered if strangling him would be too obvious. Roman lifted Deceit even higher and settled him around his shoulders. The chance was right there. No one would ever know if it was him. Sure, Roman would reform within the month, and Remus would probably skin him alive for hurting his brother, but Deceit would get that much needed break from both their voices.
His coils tightened slightly. It would be so simple. He could feel the steady heartbeat beneath his scales, pushing energy and life through all of Roman’s body. The skin that slid along his scales felt softer than he had expected, contrasting the sharp jut of Roman’s collar bones. Delicate vertebrae could snap under the strength of his muscles if he tried hard enough. If he moved fast enough not even Virgil would have been able to stop him from murdering Thomas’s “Good” Creativity.
Roman giggled. Deceit froze at the sound. Light and carefree in a way that reminded Deceit of Patton’s, seeing as they were all formed from the same person. But it was a sound that Deceit had never heard from Roman. No, Creativity was loud and boisterous and regal in all that he did. Always.
Roman’s hands curled gently around his coils, tugging him away from the neck in his grasp.
“I know I’m warm, small friend,” Roman said, the terror of the close call that he should have absent from his voice, “But curling around my neck isn’t safe. You could do some real damage there.”
He knew. That was the point. Deceit hissed, hoping that his contempt would come across to the Side that carried him. All that he earned was another giggle. Deceit imagined the feel of Roman’s neck under his hands instead of coils. It didn’t make him feel better.
Then again, violence always had been more Virgil’s thing in the end. Virgil and Remus and, well. There was a reason that Thomas didn’t like to think about some of his sides. Remus showed that just as well. He could hurt someone, or worse, hurt himself. Deceit snapped his jaw impatiently. He needed to get back to work as soon as possible.
“Perhaps Hecate can explain how you got out,” Roman mused out loud, reaching up to scratch Deceit’s scales once more. Deceit mentally sighed, allowing himself to relax at the touch. The reminder of the mysterious Hecate had him settling his head on Roman’s shoulder. Violence may not have been his preference but mysteries? Secrets that even he had missed?
Perhaps there would be something to be gained from sticking with Roman at the moment. No one else knew of this side of the Imagination as Roman did after all, meaning Deceit would only end up lost the farther in they traveled. It also meant that he would be seeing things none of the others ever had as well. Smugness shoved the last of his anger away.
Blackmail? Materials he could manipulate Creativity with? Secrets he could use to his advantage in the future? Something he could hold over Patton or Virgil’s head to watch them squirm?
Unraveling the mystery of Roman would only be a bonus.
Deceit shifted along Roman’s shoulders, looking out at the distant mountains covered with snow and the rising skyscrapers matched with parapets of a castle. It looked nothing like Remus’ smog filled desert. Instead, an endless rolling adventure stretched out in front of them. Madness and genius wrapped into one package. One huge glorious lie.
Deceit couldn’t wait.