Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2019-12-21
Words:
9,126
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
25
Kudos:
442
Bookmarks:
71
Hits:
2,883

Only Logical

Summary:

Thomas is upset...again. He's worried about his changing life...again. And all the sides are practically incapacitated with emotion.

Again.

Logan's trying, he really is, but he's tired of putting up with this. He knows the logical solution is to move on and stop falling into the same holes. But nobody's listening to logic. Feelings have overruled him once again.

He could force them to listen to him. He could take them to his room and let them see his side of the story. Or he could sit back and let them sort things out. Again.

Maybe it's time for Logan to take control.

 

This is a mistake and everyone is going to hate him.

Notes:

Hiya, kiddos! Guess who took advantage of a snow day to NOT do their homework and NOT work on one of the fics I've already started? This guy! Instead you get this wonderful angst-fest with my boy Logan. It's the longest fic I've ever written in one go and the first oneshot I've done, so be patient with me if it's crappy.

Also, I'm sorry if all this Logan angst hurts you. It hurts me too, but has that stopped me before? Nope!

(If you have any questions about continuity or timelines or whether this story is in the same universe as my others--join the club! This could be anywhere in the timeline and I don't know if it fits in The Upsides and the Downsides at all. Some of the insecurities and ideas are similar, but Logan's room is different in each...heck, whatever. I don't know and I don't care. Feel free to create theories but I will sit happily in my own confusion.)

Thanks for reading and happy holidays! I'll try to update over break but things might get complicated, so I'll see you in the new year! As always, kiddos, you're wonderful, special, and deserve the world.

STORY WARNING: self-loathing, panic attacks, anxiety, logan being a jerk (but he gets better), forced silence and a few consent issues (but just forcing someone to stay somewhere against their will). Come at me in the comments if I missed any.

Work Text:

“What’s up, everyone?”

Logan heard the familiar intro and took a deep breath. Already he heard the strain in Thomas’ voice. This was going to be a big one.

“So I just helped a friend of mine move. And it hurt! Not just because I’m really out of shape and strained my back picking up their TV, but because they’re moving. It’s only a few states away, but for someone who barely leaves their house most days? That’s pretty far away!” Logan heard Thomas’ sigh. “And I know I already learned what to do about this, and I know I have to accept the change, but there’s a difference between knowing something and knowing it, you know?”

Logan closed his eyes and sunk out of his room, rising in the living room. His guess was correct. Thomas’ hair was uncombed and his eyes were red. He was in serious need of some logic.

“No, I don’t know. Your statement makes no sense.” Logan adjusted his necktie. “If you have access to this knowledge, why do you not act upon it?”

“Hi, Logan.” Thomas didn’t seem very enthusiastic to see him, something that hurt was only to be expected, given his current state. “You’re helpful, you are. It’s just—sometimes knowing something isn’t enough.”

“Are you implying that Logic,” Logan said with a wave at himself, “is not enough to solve a problem? I am the problem-solver. I have the solution and you are unwilling to listen.”

“I know!” Thomas nodded. “I know, and you’re smart and I know. But I don’t feel like listening to you. That’s not a problem with you at all. It’s just how I work. I’m not only made up of logical thoughts, and sometimes other thoughts…overpower those.”

“So the solution here is to convince you of the benefits of Logic?” Logan asked.

“I guess?”

“Then we must call in the others, much as it pains me to do so.” Logan rolled his eyes. “Patton! Virgil! Roman! We have another problem with…feelings.

Patton rose up first with a big smile. “Don’t I know it, kiddo! I’ve been feeling blue-dad-ba-dee-dad-ba-die all day.”

“I thought it was da-ba dee—oh. I see. You made a pun.” Logan blinked a few times and tried to hold back his laughter sighed at Patton’s foolishness. “Patton, please try to be serious about this.”

“Wow, I seriously can’t believe you’re putting me down like this, Lo.”

“I am not putting you down. You seem to be standing upright as usual.”

“Won’t you stand down, Logan? I can’t stand this!”

“Burn. Burn in a pit of outdated encyclopedias, you Neanderthal.”

“Guys!” Thomas waved his arms. “We get it. Puns are evil. Now, where are the others?”

“You may rejoice!” called Roman, rising and spreading his arms. “Your savior is here!”

“Nobody needs saving,” Logan pointed out. “Except, perhaps, myself.”

“Is there a dragon witch threatening your throne, my good sir?”

“Well, there’s a Patton threatening my sanity.”

Roman looked over at a smiling Patton. “Oh, goodness, Padre, the puns?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Roman. They’re so much pun!” Patton paused and his smile slipped a bit. “That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good! Sorry.”

“Patton?” Logan asked. “Is everything all right?”

“Of course everything’s not all right.” Virgil popped into place on the stairs, his hood pulled over his hair. “Thomas is upset, which means Patton is upset, which means he’s trying to hide it with excessive puns.”

Patton bit his lip and looked down. “Yeah. I’m feeling a little down in the dumps.”

“Aww, Patton.” Thomas looked at the moral side with affection. “That’s okay! It’s understandable. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice.”

“Oh, Padre.” Roman looked ashamed. “The burden does rest upon my shoulders as well.”

Logan should have noticed Patton wasn’t okay. He’s supposed to be smarter than this.

“No, it’s all right, kiddos!” Patton giggled. “The important thing is that we’re all here now, and we can talk through it together! How are you all doing?”

“I’m wonderful!” Roman squealed. “Well, mostly.”

Patton quirked an eyebrow and Roman sighed. “I’ve been thinking up plans to get them to change their mind and stay here. I’m not exactly my fabulous self today.”

“That’s okay, Roman.” Thomas smiled. “I’m sure those plans are rather unrealistic, but I appreciate the effort.”

“I’m performing adequately,” Logan said. No one asked any follow-up questions.

“Virgil, buddy?” Thomas asked. “What’s up?”

Virgil growled and hunkered deeper into his sweatshirt. “I’m fine.”

“Falsehood.” Logan resisted the urge to raise his voice on the word, fearing it would upset Virgil further. “You are clearly disconcerted. Please divulge the nature of your concern, and we may do our best to remedy the situation.”

“You know the ‘nature of my concern’, Siri,” Virgil snapped. “I’m worried we won’t stay in touch with them, and then other friends will move away and we’ll be alone and sad and have no purpose for existence and wither away to nothing watching Parks and Recreation. The usual.”

Thomas nodded. “Yep.”

“Virgil, kiddo, I’m so sorry!” Patton screwed up his face. “I know you love your friends, but I promise I’ll never leave you! Ever!”

Virgil stared. “Um, Pat, you okay over there?”

“I’m always okay when you’re around!”

“Oh dear.” Logan tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. “It seems Patton is reacting negatively to this change. Again.”

“So I’m more confused than on avalanche?” Patton asked.

“No. Yes. You’re confusing me. You’re correct, but that’s not the right word—”

“Okay.” Thomas looked around. “Okay, okay. So everyone’s upset?”

“I’m not upset,” Logan pointed out.

“Everyone but Logan is upset.” Thomas rubbed his eyes. “This isn’t good.”

“No, it’s not,” Logan snapped. “We’ve been here before! Roman is trying to obtain someone’s good graces and company through strange means, Virgil is worried we will lose our friends, and Patton is more confused than on avalanche—average. I thought we solved these problems in both the Making Some Changes video and the Moving On videos! I thought we had reached a consensus, and yet the same problems keep occurring. Logically, we should be out of this hole by now.”

“Logan,” Thomas chided. “I think there are some processes we all go through. There are cycles we’re in, and it’s okay for some days not to be great.”

“So you’re saying it’s okay for you and the others to be in a detrimental loop, but not for me?”

The words came out too loudly. Logan didn’t mean to let his frustrations slip out say his point in an unhelpful way.

Thomas seemed taken aback by the harshness. “Logan, no, I didn’t mean that.”

Logan composed himself and continued. “The last time a so-called loop was discovered, we devoted all our energy to correcting it. Now you seem content to waste away your mental energy in another. As your logic, it is my duty to remind you that this is counter-productive and unhelpful.”

“Well, what would you suggest, Lex Poo-ther?” Roman winced at his own joke. “Sorry, Logan. That was insulting and also terrible.”

“None of us are at our best, are we?” Patton agreed.

“Tell me about it,” Virgil muttered.

Logan looked around at his friends coworkers and felt a surge of annoyance. Why did every little thing sideline them? Worse, why was it when they were sidelined, he was never listened to? They seemed to be upset when he left the conversation altogether—past experiences had dictated that—but there was no point to his participation if no one listened to him.

Why was he here if no one listened? Would they really even notice if he left? Although Logan would never dream of ducking out (quack quack) he felt an urge to vanish and retreat into his room.

His room.

There was a way they could listen to him. A way he could increase the influence of logic in the dilemma, something Thomas clearly needed.

But he had promised himself he wouldn’t do that. Not after seeing firsthand the effects of Virgil’s and Patton’s rooms on the other sides—and on Thomas. Risking the mental stability of Thomas was a terrible idea and one he fought against vehemently on every other occasion.

But if it could help them…

“Logan?” Thomas asked. “Do you have any ideas to restore…you know, logic to the situation?”

And now he had to share an idea or Thomas would think he was useless and stupid more than he already was, he was already failing at helping them what would Thomas think if he knew that Logan didn’t know something that he was a failure of a side-

Logan took a deep breath. “I have an idea, but it’s risky and I’m not sure if it would be productive.”

“Tell us, Logan!” Patton beamed. “I wanna hear all your awesome, amazing, wonderful ideas, you sour little marshmallow, you.”

“Uh-oh, feelings.” Logan stepped away from Patton and avoided his peppy, sentimental gaze.

“Do tell, Logan. If it’s terrible, I can make it better.” Roman smiled self-importantly. “I am the idea guy.”

“If you really want to increase your logical and critical thinking,” Logan began, “we could go—”

“No.” Virgil pulled off his hood. “Logan, no.”

“It’s an option—”

“It’s a horrible option! Last time we did something like this, Thomas became a mess, Patton and Roman almost ruined everything, and you left! The time before, I had to save all of you from being stuck there forever! You’re the one telling us we shouldn’t be stuck in a loop, right? Well, I think we should learn from past mistakes and stay away from the rooms.”

“The rooms?” Thomas looked at Logan. “You’re saying we should go to your room?”

“I’m saying, logically, it might work.” Logan resisted the urge to pull at his hair with nerves. “It would definitely enable you to think more…impartially about all this. It might even calm the others down.”

“Might being the key word.” Virgil glared at Logan. “It also might put everyone in serious danger.”

“My room is not dangerous,” Logan protested. “It is a place of higher, sophisticated thinking.”

“And Patton’s room is glittery and sunny and full of things that make you smile,” Virgil responded. “It’s also the scariest place I’ve ever been.”

“Virgil, I appreciate your caution, but you are often rather…you often…” Logan searched for the right words. “You are apprehensive about most things we do. But both your room and Patton’s did indirectly solve our problems in the end.”

“Yeah, by forcing us to confront them before it was too late.” Virgil tugged his sleeves over his hands. “I dunno, Logan. You’re the smart one here. I’m just sounding the alarm like I’m supposed to.”

“I think it’s a fantastic idea!” Patton clapped his hands together. “A little logic is what we need. And if there’s trouble, Logan can get us out, right, Lo?”

Who knows. “Of course.”

“Then we should at least give it a shot,” Roman agreed, “much as I dread venturing into the tragic kingdom that is Logan’s room.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Thomas asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Logan fired back. “My room is optimized for easy use.”

“It’s so boring!” Roman complained.

“It is functional, and that is what counts.”

“You can be functional and fun-ctional, Specs.”

Patton squealed. “Roman! Pun buddies!”

“Oh yeah, Padre. High five?”

“No!” Thomas waved his arms. “No stretchy arms. We’re getting off task. I need you all to agree on this or I won’t go. Virgil? Can we do this?”

Virgil sighed. “I hate taking the risk, but…Logan’s always the best at finding solutions and calming me down. I gotta think his room might help out. Whatever works.”

“That’s what you said last time.” Thomas raised a finger. “And now I’m scared it’s going to be like last time.”

“It will not be like last time.” Logan needed them to go in his room. Even though it would probably lead to something terrible it was necessary for them to see his perspective. “Patton, you were in a bad state when we entered your room. I am perfectly operational—”Lie. “—and have no intention of letting things slip out of control. If you recall, I was the one who first caught on to the troubles caused by your room. I promise if anything begins to go wrong, I will take immediate action to get you out. I am in control. Things will be okay.”

Patton and Thomas looked reassured. Roman nodded and even Virgil looked a little calmer. “Thanks, Logan,” Thomas said. “I appreciate you looking out for us.”

“It would be illogical to let harm come to you or any of the sides. It would possibly destroy your mental state.”

Logan didn’t know what he’d do without the others.

“Well.” Thomas took a deep breath and steeled himself. “If we’re all in agreement, let’s go.”

“Focus on your logical thoughts,” Roman instructed. “Facts, memories, all the boring stuff cluttering up your head—”

“—watch it—” Logan muttered.

“—and that’s where we need to go.”

“Inertia is a property of matter.” Thomas closed his eyes. “The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”

Patton sunk down.

“Mesopotamia is the cradle of civilization, meaning the land between two rivers.”

Roman waved goodbye on his way out.

“I before E, except after C.”

Virgil sighed deeply and sunk.

“The Fitness-Gram Pacer Test is a multi-stage aerobic capacity test—”

Thomas’ voice faded away as Logan felt himself sinking. He reached into the ether and tugged himself to his room, feeling for the others. He grabbed a vibrating blue string, a ribbon-like red string, a purple yarn rope, and a simple white string. Wrapping them around himself, he felt their thoughts connect to his.

This is a bad idea.

This is an awesome idea! Logan’s so smart! We should talk more!

Now we’ve been to all the rooms except for mine! That won’t do. I should take them to my kingdom so they get a sense of real interior design.

--that gets progressively difficult as it goes on—why do I remember this so well—

Logan felt their thoughts tickle in his skull and hoped they couldn’t read his.

And then they arrived, yanked into being.

“Whoa.”

Logan didn’t know who said it, but from the others’ expressions it could have been any of them.

To his annoyance, his room had taken the form of Thomas’ living room. The shelves had shifted to accommodate the couch and kitchen and stairs, things Logan had no use for. Patton rose in front of shelves and books piled against the window. Virgil rose onto the stairs, which were covered with sticky notes boasting Logan’s neat blue writing. Roman’s corner was smaller than usual, but it was covered with ticker-tape spools and little black boxes. Logan looked around and saw books covering the table, old diplomas and certificates adorning the walls, and a science lab bubbling in the kitchen.

Home sweet home.

Logan felt the pressure slough off his back, pressure he didn’t even realize he felt.

“This is amazing!” Thomas said.

“It’s a little messy,” Logan apologized. “From reorganizing itself. Please excuse me.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Patton spread his arms wide. “This is like organization central!”

“All these boxes are color-coded,” Roman noted. “So are the books. Is this what you do in your free time?”

“I have an appreciation for structure and efficiency.”

Thomas picked up a book spread-eagled on the floor. “Oh, this is an old astronomy textbook! I remember this from high school!”

“Every book you’ve ever read,” Logan said. “Every fact you’ve ever learned, every song you’ve ever listened to, every memory you’ve collected. It’s all here.”

“Reminds me of my room a bit, Logan!” Patton said with a smile. “I mean, this is nostalgic too, in its own way! You just kept different things!”

Logan shook his head. “It is nothing like your room.”

“Oh my gosh-darn-goodness this is the entire soundtrack of Hamilton!” Roman was unrolling one of the ticker-tapes. “I’m already up to My Shot!”

“Don’t—” Logan reached out. “You’re going to mess it up.”

“Oh, relax, Chris STEMsworth.” Roman tossed the tape aside and grabbed another. “Ooh, this one’s Be More Chill!”

“Can I have a look at these books, Lo?” Patton asked. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed a book off the shelf. “2016.” Flipping it open, he read “Thomas ordered a pizza but forgot to add pineapple for his friend Valerie. He worried she would be mad, but she ate the pizza anyway.”

“I think I remember that,” Thomas said. “It was March, right?”

“April, actually,” Logan corrected. “April 10th.”

Roman rolled his eyes, unspooling Merrily We Roll Along. “Pineapple on pizza? She’s better off without it, the heathen.”

“These are…” Virgil fingered a few Post-It notes. “70 percent of the human body is water? A platypus has venomous spurs on its feet? Amelia Earhart may have been eaten by crabs?”

“Facts,” Logan clarified.

“How do you know they’re facts?” Virgil asked. “What if she wasn’t eaten by crabs? What if the numbers are off?”

“To the best of my knowledge, they are facts. I leave the conspiracy theories to you.”

Roman picked up one of the boxes and pressed the button on top. The sound of a crackling fire filled the room. He turned it off and tried another—this one a bit of Moonlight Sonata. The third was a rap song Thomas had gotten stuck in his head six years ago. The fourth was a gum commercial.

“This place is so…cool!” Thomas said. “Logan, it’s incredible how much is in here!”

“Well, I am your logic,” Logan said, trying not to let on how much the compliment meant. “It is my job to maintain this.”

“Wow.” Thomas spun around for a second. “So…what do we do now?”

“We explore!” Patton suggested.

“We…leave?” Virgil begged. “I mean, this room is calming me down, which is nice, but also this room is calming me down which feels kind of invasive.”

“How about we talk?” Logan suggested. “We do our usual strange, roundabout conversation in a more calming and rational environment and see where that takes us.”

“Okay, that might work.” Thomas looked around at the others. “Who wants to start?”

“I will!” Patton volunteered. “I’d like to say, Logan, thank you for not having spiders in your room.”

“Why—why would my room possess spiders?”

“I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Well, okay, then.” Logan shook his head. “Patton, do you want to talk about your feelings instead of the spiders?”

“You only had to ask, kiddo!” Patton said with a smile.

“I—I did ask—just now—”

“You’re confusing him,” Virgil said fondly. “Be careful or logan.exe will crash.”

“Now you’re just confusing him more,” Roman protested.

“I am not confused. I stand here before you, very un-confused.” Logan waved at himself. “Patton, back on task, perhaps?”

“Of course!” Patton clasped his hands together and smiled at them all. “I hate everything!” he squealed cheerfully. “And I feel like a real grumpy-wumpus and I want to crawl into a blanket burrito and hide ‘til the sun goes away!”

Logan took a second to process that. Roman looked at Patton with undisguised concern, and Virgil let out a breath.

“Pat?” Thomas asked. “You’re really that upset?”

“Well, not as much as I was. Your room is really calming, Logan.”

“Still, that’s—” Thomas sighed. “Pat, that’s not good. You have to tell us.”

“You don’t have to,” Virgil amended quietly. “But you can. We’ll help.”

“We shall do our best to assist you in any way possible,” Roman agreed.

“Well, thanks, kiddos!” Patton said. He glanced over at Logan, who nodded as well. “That means a lot.”

“Wonderful,” Logan said. “Is your dilemma concluded?”

“Logan,” Thomas said. “I don’t think that’s how this works.”

“You’re right.” Logan rubbed his eyes. “Although it would be far easier if you could shelve this problem with a few simple words, human emotions are not so kind to us. This will be an ongoing battle, Patton. Is there anything we can do right now?”

“I mean,” Patton said with a sly smile, “if you mean anything…

“Within. Within reason.” Logan frantically held up a finger. “There are limits to this.”

“I’m just saying, I might feel a little better if you made a few dad jokes—”

“No. Dad jokes are childish.”

Childish?” Patton gasped.

“Yes, Patton. Now stop gawking, you look like a clown.”

Patton blinked and shut his mouth.

“Jeez,” Virgil muttered.

“That was kind of harsh, dude.” Thomas frowned at Logan. “Everything okay?”

“I am adequate,” Logan said quickly. It wasn’t a lie. He detested lying. And being in his room always made him feel more levelheaded. It quieted the whispers in the back of his mind. It quelled the anger that he didn’t feel and the guilt that didn’t follow him. It squashed away every bit of himself that he hated and let him do his job.

“Your turn, I presume?” Logan asked, looking to Roman.

“Yeah, I guess.” Roman shrugged. “Don’t have much to say. I’m trying not to mess it up by, you know, sabotaging their car or getting in a plane to surprise them or holding them hostage.”

“Thanks for that,” Thomas agreed. “I’d like not to get arrested today.”

“Jail would be a snore.” Roman untangled the lyrics to Mamma Mia from his arm. “And I know that kind of thinking is wrong, and I’m trying not to be…a burden on you all, but…it’s hard to stop wishing.”

“I know,” Thomas said.

“Well, I don’t.” Logan adjusted his glasses and levered a stare at Roman. “Is this another of those knowing-but-not-believing things again? I don’t understand those.”

“It’s like…” Thomas waved his hands in an attempt to explain. “Roman, you’re my creativity. Help me.”

“It’s like if you’re used to…living in a house filled with purple,” Roman said. “Everything’s purple. The walls, the floors, the furniture. And one day you decide it’s time for a change, so you paint everything…red!”

“Why would you paint the furniture?” Logan asked. “For that matter, why only one color? This seems like terrible interior design—”

“Like you know anything about design, Bill Nye the Science Tie. It’s a metaphor.” Roman rolled his eyes before continuing. “After that, for a while, you know the house will be all red. But every time you walk in, you can’t help expecting—feeling—that it’s gonna be purple. You’re used to that pattern. Logic can’t override what you feel.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Logan said. Too much bitterness leaked into his words. Thomas and Patton looked at Logan with concern.

“Logan, it’s important to strike a balance,” Thomas insisted. “Both your input and the feelings I possess are valid. Repressing them won’t make them go away or have things make more sense. Life is messy and complicated sometimes.”

“I understand that feelings are complicated. I also understand that feelings are making you act pathetic.”

Logan experienced a pang at Thomas’ hurt expression, but it felt buried under layers of water, something intangible and unreachable.

“Thomas, this needs to stop. You cannot let your emotions…override your logical functions. Facts are facts, and the fact is, your inability to climb out of these emotional holes are doing you damage. None of you are listening to me. If you did, perhaps things would be better off. As it is…”

Logan took a deep breath. He didn’t want to say it, in fact he barely believed it, but it needed to be said.

“I think you would be better off if I took more control on a daily basis and you put the others in the backseat. They have their functions, but unchecked and unmaintained they are useless at best and detrimental at worst.”

And he was no better than any of them. He was the worst of all. He let their icky, complicated human emotions get to him, and now look where he was—believing he could feel things. Believing he was part of a team.

Logic worked alone. Logic got the job done. Attachments weren’t part of the deal.

Patton froze in place. It looked like he almost flickered. Roman winced and bit his lip. Virgil was already retreating into his hoodie, but he looked up with concern. “Logan…”

Not Logan. Logic. L-O-G-I-C. Why was that so hard? He’d gotten along fine without a name until Patton had used it. Sweet, naïve Patton, who would never understand how his misguided efforts only hurt Thomas more.

“Logan, are you okay?”

Logic stared at Virgil. “Why do you all keep asking that?”

“Because I think you aren’t. Not completely.” It was Thomas talking now. Thomas. Thomas, trying to find emotions somewhere in Logic. What was wrong with them all? What was wrong with him?

“Is it the room, buddy? Is that what’s happening?” Thomas reached out. “Logan, talk to us. This isn’t like you.”

His room. His room would have detrimental effects on the others at some point. Or did they have to be detrimental? Maybe they could be positive. Maybe they could work everything out. Maybe they would see that Logic was right, Logic was sound, Logic knew what to do.

Logan didn’t know what to do.

“I do not believe the room is affecting me infinitesimally.”

Patton giggled. “Logan, you used it wrong again.”

Did he?

“Be quiet,” Logic snapped. “If I use it that way, it’s correct.”

“Whoa, dude. You’re acting fishier than the kraken’s crack.” Roman held up his hands. “Did we do something? You sure the room isn’t tying your tie in knots, Teach?”

Logic adjusted his glasses. “Maybe it is taking away a bit of my filter. I have never been one for softening the truth.”

“That’s not the truth,” Thomas argued. “That can’t be. Logan, I know you, and I know you’re fond of us. You wouldn’t say this stuff normally.”

“This is all wrong.” It was the first time Virgil had spoken up, and his voice was mouse-quiet. He coughed and spoke louder. “This is wrong. The room’s affecting us, we need to go.”

“The room is not affecting anyone. I have everything under control.” Logic tried his best to look reassuring, though Virgil seemed unconvinced. “Besides, maybe a bit more logic in your systems would do you all some good.”

“Hey!” Thomas yelled. “Pump the breaks, Logan!”

Sorry.

“What? I merely spoke facts.”

“Pump. Those. Breaks.” Thomas glared at Logic, who knew better than to speak again. “Good. Now, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you can at least agree there’s a logical possibility of some interference due to your room’s influence. Can you please calm down and help us out?”

Calm down? He was calm. He was calmer than he had ever been in his life. He felt six feet underwater, floating, removed from everything.

“Yes,” Logan said, resisting the urge to sneer.

“Great! Fantastic. We’re getting somewhere.” Thomas looked at Creativity. “Roman, how are you feeling?”

“A little more subdued,” Creativity admitted. Logic supposed he should have guessed that—the side hadn’t sung a single one of the songs now decorating his shirt. “Other than that, I’m pretty glittery, friendo.”

“Patton?”

Morality shrugged and Logic could have sworn he actually wavered—blinked out of existence and back into it again. “I dunno, Thomas,” he said, and his voice was flat. “Just kinda eh.”

“Could you be more specific?” Logic asked. “I have a natural curiosity in these things.”

“Don’t badger the witness,” Thomas chided.

“He has information.”

“He gave you information.”

“Wobbly, weird, vague information that’s as slippery and unsubstantial as the rest of him!”

Morality made a little sad sound in his throat. Logic waited for the unwelcome pang of regret, but none came. If Morality couldn’t handle scrutiny, that was his problem.

“Logan.” Thomas didn’t add anything else. His gaze was filled with disappointment.

That got a pang. A hard one.

“And how about our favorite Dark Knight?” Creativity asked, turning to Anxiety. Anxiety, who had his hood pulled over his hair and his hands tapping at his knees. He was anxious, that much was clear, but Logic didn’t know if it stemmed from the tension in the conversation or the atmosphere at large. He had hoped—listen to him, he had believed, not hoped, hoping was for dreamers like Creativity—he had believed that his room would calm the side down. Apparently that was asking too much from the perpetual worrywart.

“I’m fine,” Anxiety said.

Or tried to say.

But the words never made a sound.

Logic looked to the others. He definitely wasn’t imagining this—they looked as shocked as he was. Anxiety blinked a few times. “Hey!” he said. Again, his mouth moved soundlessly. His fingers flew to his lips and he poked at them, panic growing on his face.

“Logan?” Thomas asked. That name—he was sick of that name!

“Anxiety,” Logic said in a low voice. “What is happening?”

Anxiety said a flurry of soundless words Logic couldn’t decipher.

“I don’t think he knows,” Morality translated. “He seems pretty panicked.”

“Write something,” Creativity offered. “Is there a pen?”

Logic tossed Anxiety a pen, who caught it and quickly scribbled down I don’t know what’s happening, I can’t talk in scratchy, thin handwriting. All over a group of sticky notes about bears, Logic noted. Thomas had better not need to remember the eating habits of bears in the near future.

“You can’t talk?” Morality frowned, and there—there it was again. His whole form jumped like he had a broken connection. Logic looked to the others. No one seemed alarmed.

“This is very disconcerting,” Logic said. He didn’t know what he was referring to. At this point, it could be everything from the moment he joined this frivolous conversation.

“Tell me about it!” Thomas yelled. “Virgil’s mute! And why do you think that is? Logan, you’re shutting him up, whether you mean to or not! Your room is doing this!”

“As much as his endlessly depressing comments drive me insane,” Creativity agreed, “I would hardly wish our dear Sweeney Odd to be silenced. Logan, can’t you stop?”

“It’s Logic,” Logic corrected stiffly. “And I do not know what has happened to Anxiety. I have no way of stopping it.”

Thomas stared at Logic with that same confused frown. “Well, surely the solution is to get out of the room? It caused this. Out of it, we could regroup and think of a solution while we’re not being…influenced.”

Anxiety nodded vehemently.

Logan knew they needed to leave. Everything was wrong, going wrong, he hadn’t expected it to be this bad—

“No.”

There was a moment of dead silence. Morality reached for a book and it slipped through his grasp, his face growing pale. Anxiety pulled his knees up to his chest and took a deep breath. Creativity looked at Logic with a strange expression, a guarded expression, like Logic was the Dragon Witch. An enemy he was prepared to fight.

“Logan…” Thomas whispered.

“Stop calling me that!” Logic blurted out. “I am Logic!

“Logic. Buddy.” Thomas spoke like he was confronting a wild animal. “You need to get us out. The room is messing with your head and—”

“It’s my room, Thomas.” Logic felt a coldness steal over him. “Maybe I’m not turning into some kind of enemy. Maybe this is who I am.”

Morality flickered. Longer and slower this time. It took him a moment to fade back into view. “That’s not who you are. You’re our friend.”

“Am I?” Logic felt everything he’d ever suppressed rise in a tide of anger. “To the best of my knowledge, friends listen to each other, and you have never listened to me. You pretend you need my help, but in the end, your own petty squabbles get in the way of everything. And you act as though this is problem-solving! There is no glory in solving problems you cause! You patch up holes, then the patches get holes and you patch up those holes. But it can't keep working. You are in a loop. You are in an unbreakable cycle and it is because you believe you can solve every problem with a catchy song and talking about feelings. Thomas, we are not living on Sesame Street. We are living in the real world. The real, harsh, logical world that you are not prepared for, because you would rather hide in your emotions than face the truth!”

Logic closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see their faces.

“I’m tired of playing pretend with you and your sock puppets. I’m tired of doing things your way and hoping for the slightest ounce of recognition. I’m tired of being Logan. I’m Logic, and I’m doing things my way, and we’re staying in my room as long as it takes for you to see sense and know that I. Am. Right.

He hated every word he said. He hated every word that came out of his mouth, because they weren’t really for Patton and Roman and Virgil and Thomas. They were for Logan. It was a message from Logic to Logan. And if he could make the other sides listen, if he could make them see the light, maybe he could reconcile all the parts of himself and make himself listen as well.

He knew he needed to be emotionless. But he felt a different way. That’s what Roman had talked about, right? The difference between knowing and believing. He couldn’t logic his way into believing that repression was the best idea. He tried and tried but the walls were always purple.

Logic could logic his way through anything.

Logic always knew what was best.

Logan failed to be Logic.

Logic was better than Logan.

They would all see that, eventually. Once they got over their petty emotions about the whole situation, they would understand. Logic needed to be in charge.

Even if right now, they all looked about to cry.

Was that his fault?

He didn’t know anymore.

His room was closing around him, and everything was leaking out.

Anxiety scribbled frantically on a few sticky notes and stuck them on the wall.

Let us out.

You don’t know what you’re doing.

Logan Logic please stop.

Thomas wordlessly mouthed the same things. Logic didn’t think his host had been silenced forcefully. Maybe he couldn’t find his voice. Maybe Logic couldn’t hear him anymore.

Morality pulled his hoodie tighter around his shoulders. The hoodie Logic gave him. The hoodie he always kept around his shoulders and cleaned every week.

Creativity, almost automatically, reached for his sword.

Despite himself, Logic took a step back.

“No!” Creativity said to himself. The sword disappeared. “Logan, it’s okay. I’m not going to fight you on this. I know as well as you do that this is not the answer. You’re the one always on us about repression, right? Well, forcing us to listen to you by silencing Virgil is repression. You can’t just force out emotional thoughts and hope they’ll go away. You have to work with us, not against us.”

“I can’t,” Logic said.

“Try.”

“I can’t. Emotions are…unproductive.”

“But they’re there. They’re not going away. You can’t force emotions out of your head, Logan.” Creativity Roman reached out, face full of pain. “You always have such good advice, you know. I don’t know what I’m doing. But you do. You helped all of us. You should take your own advice and accept every part of yourself.” He sighed. “Even the parts that are messy, or strange, or unproductive.”

Logic stared at Creativity and for a second something stirred deep within him, like a bottle bobbing to the surface of the ocean. Then a wind passed over him, cold and dark, and everything sunk.

“It’s my job,” he said coldly. “I am Logic and that is my job.”

“I am Creativity and that is mine,” Creativity mimicked. “But you know I’m more than that, right? I have my own dreams, my own struggles, my own life. I can’t pretend I know exactly how this works but I know I’m me. And you’re you.”

Logic shook his head slightly.

“Look at Virgil.” Anxiety winced at the sudden attention. “He’s Anxiety, sure, but he’s not just Anxiety. He’s our friend. He’s more than just a part of Thomas, and treating him like he is would be treating him like—” Creativity glanced away. “Like a bad guy.”

Anxiety folded into himself but gave Creativity a small smile.

Logan is the bad guy here.

“You hate me,” Logic blurted out, staring at Creativity. “Why are you doing this?”

Creativity’s eyes widened and something in them broke. “What? I don’t hate you, Logan. We don’t always get along, but you’re one of us.”

“We’re friends,” Thomas added, finally finding his voice.

Anxiety gave him a lopsided half-smile and shrugged in agreement.

“Family,” Morality said with all this warmth and where was this coming from, they were supposed to hate him, why were they looking at him like he was normal, like he wasn’t defective?

“You’re all wrong,” Logic said matter-of-factly, because the fact of the matter was, they were all inhibited by bias and emotion. Only he saw things clearly.

“Maybe we are,” Thomas admitted. “Or maybe you are.”

“I am never wrong. I do not make mistakes.”

Anxiety snorted loudly and affectionately. He looked at Logic like looking at a kid who had stolen from a cookie jar. It was patronizing and it was pathetic.

“Shut up,” he told Anxiety, even though Anxiety was silent.

“Shut up,” he told Creativity, who flinched but met his gaze.

“Shut up,” he told Morality, who just sighed.

“We have to stay,” he told Thomas. “There is no other way.”

And they listened. They had to. Nobody could speak and mess it up with foolish emotions or insecurities. It was perfect. It was everything Logic had asked for, everything he ever wanted.

Wasn’t it?

“I can’t stay, Logic.”

Logic looked to Morality, who smiled sadly and flickered. For a terrifying second there was just curtains and books before Morality reappeared.

“What?” Logic asked. “Morality, you have to.”

“But I can’t.” Morality held up his hands and Logic saw they were shimmering and translucent. He heard a gasp from someone but couldn’t tear his eyes away. “This is the opposite of me, Lo. This room. It’s the same for you, but you left my room in time. If I don’t leave, I’ll vanish.”

“You can’t leave me here,” Logic argued. “You need to listen.”

“I can’t listen to you.” Morality’s eyes widened. “I want to, but I can’t. Not now. Not here.”

Of course. Of course Morality didn’t listen. Of course one of them had to ignore him, had to undermine his authority. He should have expected no less. Doubtless the flickering was another of Morality’s tricks to get him to lower his guard. Logic steeled himself. He couldn’t let Morality leave.

Morality giggled blankly and waved his cat paws. “This is quite a cat-astrophe, huh?”

“Patton.” Creativity stepped forward. “Patton, you need to leave.”

“I can’t until he lets me.” Morality looked at Logic. “Please let us leave, Lo.”

Let them leave. Let them leave. Let them leave.

“Just a moment,” Thomas argued. “Give him a moment in my house. We can keep talking about this but we need to keep him safe.”

Let them leave, let them leave, why aren’t you letting them leave—

There was a thud from the stairs. Anxiety had thrown a book at the wall. His knees were pulled up to his chest and his hands were shaking.

This had to be a trick. He couldn’t let down his guard. He couldn’t let Morality’s puppy-dog eyes manipulate him into letting them go.

“Logan, it’s okay.” Morality gave him a soft smile. “I get it. Everything will be okay.”

“Shut up!” Logic snapped. “I told you to listen. Stop making up excuses, Morality.”

Morality bit his lip.

And then his whole body shuddered and skipped a few beats and faded and stammered and there was nobody there. There was just a few books and a window. Silence where a voice used to be, emptiness in the spot where his hoodie rested on his shoulders.

Patton!

Logan heard the yell and assumed it had been Thomas or Roman. A few seconds later, he realized it came from him. Logan.

“Patton,” he repeated. “Patton!”

“Where did he go?” Roman said sharply. “Logan, where did he go?”

“I don’t know!” Logan was too confused to suppress the waver in his voice. “I don’t know, I don’t, I—”

“Logan.” Thomas stared at Logan. “Calm down. We can’t get anywhere if you’re freaking out.”

“I’m perfectly calm!” Logic Logan Logic Logan tried to smile, but his face stretched wrongly and he felt waves crash over top of him. “I’m fine!”

“Logan, breathe—”

“Shut up, I’m fine!” he snapped, shoving everything down and yanking a lid closed on his panic. There was no time for this. “What should we do?”

“We need to leave,” Thomas said. “Now more than ever.”

Roman nodded. “Get us out, Logan.”

“But what about Patton—”

“We’ll find him. I promise.” Thomas spoke with certainty. Logan didn’t know where it was coming from. “Now, we have to go.”

Logan looked at their encouraging faces. Thomas smiled, Roman drew himself up taller, and even Virgil gave him a thumbs up. Patton’s spot remained empty.

“It’s always abrupt when I leave,” Logan admitted. “Be ready for that.”

“We’ve got you,” Thomas said. “You’ll be okay.”

He wasn’t talking about himself.

Well, maybe he was.

Logan nodded and closed his eyes. He felt himself sink into the ocean surrounding him and thoughts rose, unbidden, to the surface. Why do you listen to them? Don’t give away your advantage for a simple trick. Maybe without Morality, you’ll have more control.

Patton’s shocked face sprung to mind.

It opened something within him and a flood of memories hit him at once.

”Hey! We have the same glasses!”

“You’re so smart, you could solve anything!”

“With you, I’m always home!”

“Logan, can you stop? Please?”

Patton was the best of all of them. Patton deserved the world. He had done so much and been so kind. Logan would save him or die trying.

He reached and found three shattered strings, muted and trembling. A purple yarn strand, a beautiful red ribbon, and a neat white string. He wrapped them around his hand like a puppetmaster and he sunk, taking them along.

The space beneath his room seemed larger and emptier than before. He felt cold laughter sink into his skin, and knew if he let go he wouldn’t find his way to the surface. Thoughts spun around him.

Is Logan okay?

Is Patton okay?

Will we be okay?

And then, a voice from deep within.

Is that them?

If Logan had a mouth, he would have laughed with relief. If he had eyes, he’d have cried.

Instead, he just reached over and tied a bright blue string around himself.

And pulled them, reached for them, flew into the sun.

Logan rose in the center of Thomas’ room, his usual spot. Roman rose, Virgil rose, Thomas rose—and Patton rose. Patton. Patton was okay.

Logan felt relief and guilt crush him at the same time.

“Pat!” Virgil yelled, his voice too loud but so welcome. “You’re okay!”

“Of course I am, kiddo!” Patton shrugged and smiled. “I pulled myself out before I completely disappeared. I’m sorry if you were worried.”

“It’s great to see you, Padre.” Roman’s smile seemed to glow.

“Thank goodness,” Thomas said. “That could have been really bad, if Logan—”

He stopped himself, but Logan heard the unsaid words.

If Logan hadn’t let them leave. If Logan had ignored Patton’s problem. If Logan had become what he almost did.

They hated him. They had to. That was just logical. He had worn out his welcome and put them in danger, and now they would lock him in the room he loved so much. They’d stop pretending to be his friends and stop pretending they cared about the defective robot in the corner. They’d shun him, and he deserved that, he knew he did, so why did it hurt so much?

It had to happen. He’d messed up. He’d been a fool.

Patton hated him.

Patton—Logan almost gasped as a hot streak of pain stabbed his chest. He couldn’t imagine a world where Patton hated him.

That was reality now. He would have to deal.

“Logan.” Roman’s eyes were hard. “Logan, we need to talk. What was that?”

They hate you they hate you theyhateyoutheyhateyoutheyhateyou—

“Logan!” Thomas said. “Are you alright?”

Logan noted with some corner of his mind that his hands were shaking and his legs were growing weaker. He felt he would collapse. He thought he might faint and die right there. Black spots crowded his vision and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t look at their faces—and maybe if he told them sorry they wouldn’t hurt him, but he knew they would, he knew he deserved all of this.

He was such a master of words and he couldn’t even talk his way out of this—he couldn’t even strike a deal to keep his job or keep his life or maybe even his friendship.

You failed you failed youfailedyoufailedyoufailed—

Logan grasped at his chest but he couldn’t breathe, he was about to cry or collapse or shatter into a million scratchy pieces digging into his lungs—

Someone was talking, their faces swum before him—

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I messed up and I know you hate me but I’m sorry, I promise, I never meant for it to go that far, you can hate me and it’s fine, but I wanted you to know, I guess—I mean, I know it doesn’t mean much but I wanted to say it anyway because I’m pathetic like that and I don’t know what I’m doing—”

Logan felt the words tear from his mouth. He wasn’t even in control of his speech anymore, was he? Not in control of anything. The control he’d wrestled from the jaws of despair was gone, spilled on the floor and burned to ash.

But he didn’t deserve that control. He took his control and used it to hurt them. It made sense he had lost everything he cherished.

It was only fair. Only logical.

He really felt like he was about to die.

And then he heard someone speak.

“Four, seven, eight, Logan.”

Logan lifted his face to see Virgil staring intently at him. “What?” he whispered.

“Breathe. Four, seven, eight.”

Logan took a breath. Four seconds in, seven seconds hold, eight seconds out. And again, and again, and again.

“What do you see?” Virgil asked. “Five things.”

“You,” Logan managed to get through numb lips. “Roman. Thomas. Patton. The—the floor.”

“Four things you can feel.”

“My tie.” It was too tight around his neck. “The floor. My glasses, my shirt, my shoes.”

“Three things you can hear.”

“You. Um…the cars outside. Roman shifting position every three seconds.”

Roman flushed. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Two things you can smell.”

Logan sniffed. “Thomas’ body odor and a lingering burning smell from the bread he overcooked yesterday.”

Thomas rubbed his nose. “Thanks, buddy.”

“And one thing you can taste?”

Logan licked his lips. Salt? Oh, crap. “Um…blood? It appears I bit my tongue at some point.”

“Right. Okay.” Virgil opened his palms. “How do you feel?”

“Better?” Logan suggested. And it wasn’t a lie. He still felt an undercurrent of anxiety, but it felt a little more manageable. “Thank you, Virgil,” he said with as much genuine gratitude as he could muster.

“No problem,” Virgil said, flushing at the compliment. “You do it for me all the time when I have panic attacks, so—”

“Oh, that wasn’t a panic attack.” Logan straightened his glasses and tie. “I simply became overwhelmed by the…emotions that resurface after traveling from my room. It was not that serious.”

Virgil snorted. “Cut the crap, Logan. You’re talking to the literal embodiment of anxiety. I know what a panic attack looks like.”

Logan opened his mouth to retort but couldn’t think of an argument. It was a panic attack. He, Logic, had a panic attack.

Wonderful.

“So, Logan.” Thomas spoke slowly and carefully, probably afraid a wrong word would set Logan off and get them locked in his room. “Can we talk?”

“Actually, I have some important…business…to attend to.” Logan waved his hand vaguely. “I think I’ll be going.”

“You can’t leave!” Roman burst out.

“I am fully capable of the act. Besides, I am hardly in the mood to be yelled at.”

“Yelled at?” Patton asked.

“Well, yes.” Logan looked around, confused. “I know people tend to yell when they are upset with someone—”

“Logan, we’re not mad at you!” Thomas said.

“You…aren’t?” This didn’t make sense. “But I thought you hated me. I mean, I made such a huge mistake! I hurt all of you! Especially Patton!”

Roman looked at Logan with warmth in his eyes. “No one hates you.”

“You jumped to a conclusion, Lo.” Virgil shrugged. “I should know. It’s what I do.”

“And of course we’re not mad,” Thomas promised. “We don’t want to yell at you. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

I’m… okay?”

After everything that happened, after everything he did, they just wanted to know if he was okay.

Logan felt a sob build up in his throat and he choked on it, trying to keep it down.

“It’s all right, Logan.” Patton smiled softly. “Let it out.”

And Logan did. He sunk to the ground, covering his face and crying. It was only a minute. He kept it to only a minute because it was humiliating to cry like this in front of the others. But for a minute he sobbed into his knees, and it felt a strange kind of great. It felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. It felt like he was washing all the ugliness and anger out of his system.

Then he shook himself, wiped his face, and stood up.

Everyone looked at him with pure affection and concern.

How could he ever believe they would hate him?

“Right.” Logan nodded. “I think we can agree we aren’t doing this again?”

“Definitely,” Virgil said.

“I second that,” Roman agreed.

Patton merely nodded and smiled.

“So, I think the question is, what do we do now?” Thomas looked around. “I still feel kinda bad.”

“That’s okay.” Logan didn’t even think about what he was saying. He just spoke. “Emotions are part of the deal. However you’re feeling, it’s completely normal. Emotions aren’t logical and that’s—that’s okay.”

Thomas smiled slowly. “What brought this on, Logan?”

“A world without emotions is…” Logan glanced at Patton and looked away. “Less helpful than I thought it would be.”

Roman nodded. “Thank you for that, Logan. I know this was a hard quest for you, and I’m proud that you faced your dilemma.”

“Same here.” Virgil pulled at his sleeve. “Lo, you can always talk to us, okay? We wanna help out when you feel bad.”

“Okay,” Logan said. “I can’t promise I won’t take that back in twenty minutes, but I’ll try.”

“Good enough for now,” Thomas said. “Thanks, guys. Truly. Roman, thanks for keeping us moving.”

“It was my pleasure,” Roman said. “I am very energetic.”

“Virgil, thanks for being solid during this.”

“I’m freaking out internally but okay.”

“Logan.” Thomas smiled. “Thanks for opening up to us. It was really brave.”

Logan looked away and tried not to blush at the compliment. “If emotions aren’t going away, I might as well try work with them.”

“Exactly. You really are so smart.”

Logan smiled, just a bit.

“Now, guys, I think we’re done here—”

“Wait.” Logan felt himself freeze, but he didn’t take it back. “Wait, guys. I need to say something.”

“Yeah?” Roman asked.

He glanced at Virgil’s supportive face and Thomas’ smiling one, before settling on Patton. Patton, who’d been unusually quiet. Patton, who he’d hurt and suppressed. Patton, who he had so much to say to and so little words to say them.

“Patton.”

Patton looked a little surprised. “Yeah, Lo?”

“Um…” Logan clasped his hands behind his back and took a deep breath. “What do you call an alligator in a vest?”

“What?” Patton frowned.

“An investigator.”

Patton blinked. “Did you just—”

“What do you get when you cross a watermelon and a dog? A melon-collie. What did one eye say to the other? Between you and me, something smells.”

Patton giggled. “Logan! Are you actually—”

Logan smiled shyly. “Why couldn’t the pony sing in the choir? He was a little horse!”

Patton laughed this time, a full-belly laugh that sent warmth all through Logan. “Good one! Why shouldn’t you believe an atom?”

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“Because they make up everything!”

Logan snickered, at both the terrible pun and the triumphant look on Patton’s face. “Wow, Patton. You really have this down to a science.

“What can I say? I love inventing new puns!” Patton smiled and placed his hands on his hips. “I should file a Patton-t.

“I think the odds of anyone appreciating these are low.” Logan waited a second, then smiled. “Gan.”

“Lo-gan. Logan.” Patton laughed. “Logan!”

Thomas beamed. “This is so wholesome.”

“I have more puns,” Logan suggested. “We could keep doing this all day. It might make you feel better.”

“Sounds practically perfect!” Patton clapped his hands together. “Thomas, I’m afraid we have plans for a pun-tastic afternoon. Can we go?”

“Of course!” Thomas waved. “Logan, Patton, I hope you have fun. And all of you, thanks. From the bottom of my heart.”

“You’re welcome,” Logan said warmly. “It was tough, but in the end, we got there.”

“Wherever you go, Logan, I will follow.” Patton nodded. “Gan.”

Logan laughed, and all the Sides sunk down, to the Commons where Logan and Patton could make puns, and Virgil could listen to music, and Roman could sing the entire soundtrack of Hamilton.

Thomas posted the video, one dilemma seen through to its conclusion, several more already clamoring at the horizon.

Nothing was perfect. Nothing was even close. They were sad and scared and angry and each their own special mess.

But they had each other.

And Logan was starting to believe that was enough.