Sanders Sides Oneshots and Short Stories

Pretty Lies Make Ugly Truths (pt.2)

Not requested.

Ship: None

Category: Angst

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, self-harm, attempted suicide, low self-esteem, overall angst, sympathetic Deceit

Summary: Deceit wakes up, and Roman discovers something alarming.

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Deceit woke the next day, just after noon. Roman and Patton were in the kitchen, cooking to distract themselves. Virgil sat in the corner of the living room, perched on the couch, watching Deceit intently. He hadn't left his spot. Logan sat beside Deceit, making sure his health didn't tip into the danger zone.

Logan noticed when his breathing began to quicken, eyelashes fluttering weakly as he cracked his eyes open. As soon as he saw Logan, he groaned and closed his eyes again, rolling over so he was lying face down.

"Deceit?" Logan questioned, voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Deceit mumbled something, then pushed himself off the couch and onto the floor. He stared up at the ceiling, expression dull.

"Deceit?" Logan asked again, more worried this time. "What did you say?"

"I said," Deceit grumbled, "That it didn't work. I was complaining that it didn't work."

"What didn't work?" Virgil asked. Roman and Patton lingered in the doorway, watching silently.

Sighing heavily, Deceit pushed himself up in a pitiful attempt to stand, but his arms gave out and he collapsed. He groaned, either from pain or frustration.

"Woah, woah," Virgil said, kneeling beside the fallen trait. "Here." Despite the lying side's weak struggling, Virgil lifted him and helped him sit up on the couch. "What didn't work?"

"My suicide attempt," Deceit growled. "Of course, you couldn't call it suicide, since I was trying to put myself in a coma, but apparently I didn't take enough sleeping pills, cause I still have to deal with you all."

A shocked silence fell over them. Deceit's voice was monotone and flat, as if he didn't care about anything.

"Dee..." Patton's broken whisper emerged from the doorway. His hands covered his mouth, and his eyes brimmed with tears. Always the empath.

"Don't act like you care," Deceit snapped. "I certainly don't. Now, let me go back to my room so I can try again."

"Stop," Roman said, storming into the room. He put a finger to Deceit's chest and forced him to sit back. "No. We're not letting you kill yourself, you'll just regenerate. And we're definitely not letting you put yourself in a coma. Why would you ever want to do something like that?"

"Obviously because you don't want me around," Deceit huffed. "I've had enough. I'm tired, so tired. I just want to sleep and never wake up."

"I've made up my mind," Logan announced after a pause. "Someone will be accompanying Deceit everywhere, until we're sure he won't try something like this again. From my observations, I have come to the conclusion that he has been skipping meals and slowly deteriorating, and none of us noticed. This is us, making an attempt to help," Logan added, meeting Deceit's multi-colored gaze. "Roman, you have the first shift."

Deceit made a noise of protest, then shut his mouth. A blank mask slotted into place, and he nodded stiffly.

"Now, I have work to do. Roman, do not let Deceit out of your sight." Logan pushed his glasses up and gave Roman a pointed look, before sinking out. A moment later, Patton followed.

Virgil lingered, eyes fixed uneasily on Deceit, before finally vanishing.

Roman turned his attention back to Deceit. "So. What do you do during the day?"

Deceit let out a long sigh. "Let's just go my room, I guess." He led Roman to the back of the Mindscape in silence, the atmosphere growing darker and colder as they progressed. They passed Virgil's room, then a door that was cracked and faded.

"Apathy," Deceit said absently. "He doesn't come out much."

Deceit's door was at the far end of the hallway, and it was freezing. Roman shivered, hugging himself. Deceit didn't seem to notice, or car. The lying side opened the door and stepped inside, Roman hurrying after him.

The room was... chaotic.

There was a desk in the corner, covered in random papers and books. The floor was strewn with objects, like clothes and things that looked suspiciously like glass bottles. Deceit stepped over the mess easily, then seated himself on the bed.

"What do you do all day?" Roman questioned, kicking something out of his way.

Deceit let out a heavy sigh. Good. Annoyance was a reaction, at least. "Nothing. When I'm not trying to kill myself, I'm usually sitting here, doing nothing and wishing I was dead."

Roman winced. "... Okay, how about we do something exciting? Like go into the Imagination?"

"Ha." Deceit rolled his eyes. "Really funny. Bad things happen when I'm in the Imagination. I warp the reality of that place, and it screws with things."

"I'm sure with me nearby, you'll be just fine," Roman assured him, reaching out and grabbing his sleeve. The edge of it slipped back, revealing Deceit's pale forearm.

His skin was marred with thin, raised scars, tracing all the way up to his elbow. They varied in length and size, but each one looked incredibly painful.

Deceit yanked his arm back, shoving his sleeve down over the scars. "What do you think you're doing?" Deceit snarled, shoving a finger against Roman's chest.

"Woah!" Roman stepped back nervously, nearly tripping over a glass bottle. "I didn't mean to look. You obviously weren't ready for me to see, so I'm sorry. I shouldn't have grabbed you."

Deceit let out a breath. He clutched his wrist with one hand, eyes narrowed dangerously. Roman was just glad he was finally reacting to something.

"Hey," Roman said softly, trying not the spook the lying side. "Those could get infected. Can I bandage them up for you?"

"What would you know about infections?" Deceit muttered.

"Eh, a few accidents in the Imagination, some neglecting of my health, and uh, ya know." Roman rubbed his shoulder sheepishly. "So, uh, how about we clean those up?"

Deceit watched him carefully as Roman walked into the bathroom and came back out, now holding a roll of gauze, some hydrogen peroxide, medical tape, and cotton swabs.

"What's all that for?" Deceit asked, scowling.

"The hydrogen peroxide and cotton swabs are to clean it," Roman explained, brushing some papers off of a desk to make room. "The gauze and tape are to cover them up."

Roman went to work efficiently. He had Deceit sit down on the bed, then warned him it would sting. He gently dabbed the scars with a cotton swab, his hands warm on Deceit's skin. Then he meticulously wrapped the gauze around his arm, making sure it wasn't too tight. He taped it closed and leaned back to observe his handiwork.

"Can you move it okay?"

Deceit flexed his fingers and wiggled his arm a few times. "Yeah."

"Good!" Then Roman's expression morphed into something more serious. "Now, you're going to tell me why you made those. Unless you want to be interrogated by Logan and Virgil, that is."

Deceit shuddered.

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It's been a while since I updated this short story, so have the sequel! On a different note, I recently found my old fanfiction.com account and realized that the last time I updated any of my stories was like two years ago. So you guys can check that out if you want, but I haven't written anything Sanders Sides related. If you like PJO and Supernatural, well, that's the account for you. My username is "KayBayColt".

Hope you guys had a fun Thanksgiving, if you celebrate(I know I didn't)! ~kc