Chapter Text
Remus had a problem.
Well, he had several problems—some oozing magnificently disgusting liquids, some steaming and puffing like a puss-filled volcano, and some occasionally taking over his bed and filling it with acids-o-plenty, making his blankets fizzle and pop as they burned until he finally cared enough to summon new bedding.
But this was a problem he did not like, and he very much did not want to share.
Because honestly? It was absolutely pathetic, he wasn’t some lightside, he wasn't emotional, he wasn’t weak, he didn’t get upset.
He just didn’t.
But still, every time Wrath so much as came into the room he was ready to bolt, instantly in the farthest corner away and doing his best to subtly check over exits to see which was the closest.
Because whenever Wrath came into the room that meant yelling, and not the fun yelling, not the irritated yelling as a result of his chaos nor the frustrated yelling as a result of someone else's chaos, or poor choices.
Instead, it was the bad yelling, the loud yelling, only aimed at him, when he did anything, or when he didn’t do anything.
He hated the bad yelling, and it happened almost every time Wrath was in the room, even when Remus had just walked in after being in his side of the imagination for a week. If there was any mess whatsoever, anywhere , even just a drying dish from breakfast it was somehow always his fault.
And normally he was fine being blamed, finding it incredibly humorous. But the more it went on the more it made his chest tight and just the idea of doing anything outside the small closet in his room he’d designated as his favorite place to hide in taste like tar in his mouth. the icky bad tar too, not the chewy fun tar he ate to freak the others out.
..Sometimes after a particularly bad week, a week in which Wrath decided just the idea of Remus was repulsive and he needed to make sure Remus was aware of his extensive disgust— so a truly awful and agonizing week, sometimes Remus just hid away in his room for weeks at a time, trying to be out of sight and out of mind, and just draw, or do anything vaguely quiet so he could distract himself, even though he was often so damn bored that it felt physically painful, and often he just felt like sleeping forever as the numbness seeped into his bones, but it was still the safest he felt.
And sometimes— late in the night because he knew as well as Remus how scary Wrath was— sometimes Janus would check in with him when he hid away, maybe every other night, sometimes even more frequently depending on his luck. bringing him dinner and snacks and just checking in on him, sometimes he would even stay for a couple of hours, hang out with him, letting him rant about his favorite gory ideas and vent about how truly awful Wrath was, and he would just.. be so nice.
And sometimes— more rarely but unfortunately not as uncommon as he would like, even then when Remus hadn’t touched anything, even when he'd been holed away for weeks, sometimes Wrath would still yell.
Sometimes he would shout at him to clean up so loudly it made his ears hurt, even when it was cushioned by the walls, sometimes he would be banging so angrily on the door that it scared him- banging so much Remus thought the door might break and shatter everywhere, shatter and splinter and impale him- shatter and splinter and impale him and he would be left to bleed out all alone, even without the unwanted presence of Wrath once he'd realized what he’d done.
There had been a point he’d even started trying to clean up, even if he hadn’t caused the mess, just any mess he saw he would clean up to the best of his ability, because he just wanted the yelling to stop , but even then it had just continued, in fact, two-fold with the extra angry shouts that he wasn’t doing it right, chastises for so much as existing— “god why are you always so stupid you can’t do fucking anything right—”
And what was more pathetic in Remus's opinion was it got to the point that every time he so much as heard the vacuum turn on, even from his room— even when he was annoying the light sides, his immediate instinct was to run.
Because every time the vacuum turned on that meant Wrath was cleaning up what he chose to believe was Remus's mess, which meant he would yell at Remus, which meant Remus had to hide, now.
Hide anywhere he could, if he managed it, his room was always the best spot, it had many special hiding spots in it and it had his noise-canceling headphones so he could just hide in his closet covered in as many blankets as he could find and just try anything to mute the awful ear-shattering, stomach-souring, yelling, as well as, in his room he could lock the door and block people from rising in, he could make it impossible to get in, even if they tried really hard.
But even if he couldn’t sink or run into his safe room he had to hide, sometimes he hid in pantries or blanket closets once he had even hidden in the relatively sizable cupboard.
At this point it was a survival instinct, if Wrath entered the room, the moment he turned away from Remus, he had to sink out. If Wrath looked like he was already mad, stay quiet and try and hide immediately, the sooner the better, there couldn't even be a second delay, he’d learned that after his wrist got slammed against the counter, it hadn’t been particularly hard but it had still hurt, a lot. And, If he heard a vacuum he needed to hide until he was sure it was safe, even if it took hours, and even then he should only really leave his hiding spot and move to his room or go to the kitchen to get food when it was late and Wrath was well asleep.
He honestly didn’t know what he’d done to make Wrath hate him so much, he hung around Janus most places he went and even Janus hadn’t yelled at him, though he had a lot of reasons too, even more reasons than Wrath ever had, Remus was loud, and brash and made so many lewd references before he could even think not too, he knew that must be annoying, but Janus dealt with it,
...why couldn't Wrath?
And sure sometimes his room was slightly toxic— never for long, it seemed to only get that way when people were going in there with him, guaranteeing he’d never show them any of the cool projects he’d made because if it was made in there it didn’t sound trustworthy.
...Which meant… Janus was slowly and steadily getting accepted, and Remus would happily go with him if given the option, which honestly the more he thought about it he may very well not get, as he was just finding more and more reasons for Janus to hate him, but if he did, and if that happened and he was even partially accepted he wouldn’t be able to hang out with anyone- if they did ever start liking him- in his room, which seemed extremely petulant especially in the way it made his heart sink into the pit of his stomach, but it was his safe space.
And it meant that Remus, the loudest, most uncontrollable, and chaotic side, would have to hide stuff, more than just in the presence of Wrath, and the existence of Wrath, he’d have to constantly hide his immediate fight-or-flight response to something as stupid as a vacuum, and he’d have to hide the way his chest felt like a stress toy with the way it squeezed to the point he could barely breathe when any of the sides raised their voice, even when it wasn’t even aimed at him, even when it wasn’t even unhappy loud, just plain old loud-loud.
And he couldn't even have his safe space if he wanted the craved semi-positive attention.
He’d have to hide so much, and he knew himself, he knew he didn’t have that much self-restraint, even if he did somehow not tell them, with his luck they would have an argument with each other and Remus would have a panic attack.
And Virgil knew panic attacks well, he'd know almost immediately.
Yeah, He didn’t like this problem at all.
He wished it could just go away.
He wished all of the yelling would just stop.
He wished it would be okay.