Secret Santa Sides 2019: Pro-Ship Edition

He took a long sip of his coffee, buying himself a few precious moments to think furiously of what to do. Nothing came to mind, and he cursed his insomnia for putting him in this position - if he could sleep like a normal person, he’d be tucked in bed right now. “I’mma be gay with you, sweetie,” he finally said, “It’s too cold to be having life-or-death conversations right now. I’m sure you’ve got your reasons, but there’s no rush, yeah? Come back to my place and we can talk about it, or not, whatevs.”

The guy shook his head, “Just leave me alone.”

“Yeaaaah, not gonna happen,” Remy said, leaning on the railing next to where the guy was holding on. “I’m no saint, but I’m not gonna walk away from somebody who needs help.”

The guy finally turned his head to shoot a glare at Remy, “I don’t need any help.”

Remy chuckled, “Yeah, because well-adjusted self-sufficient people are always planning to jump off a bridge in the middle of the night.” He shrugged, “You mineswell come home with me - I’m just going to annoy you until you do.”

“God, fine! Whatever! You win,” the guy grumbled, turning to face the railing and Remy. He lifted one leg over the railing and Remy grabbed the guy by the jacket and belt to help him - just in time, because the guy’s other foot slipped off the icy bridge ledge. Remy’s hips slammed into the railing as the guy’s full weight threatened to pull him over, and for one heart-stopping moment Remy met the kid’s eyes as fear slammed through them both. Then the kid’s flailing foot managed to find purchase again and Remy wasted no more time hauling him bodily over the railing. They collapsed to the ground in a pile, gasping and shivering in the cold.

“Let’s not do that again.” Remy said, and the guy choked out a laugh. He was pretty cute, Remy thought, now that the threat of suicide was no longer such a pressing concern. He almost felt disappointed when the guy rolled off him, but the slush was soaking into his jeans and he didn’t want to risk getting frostbite on his ass. He stood up, wiping the snow off his pants and held out a hand to the guy to pull him to his feet. “Shall we?”

“What?” Dammit, the guy looked cute even when he was confused.

Remy motioned down the street in the direction of his apartment. “My place, remember? Hot drinks, warm clothes?”

“Oh,” the guy tucked his hands in his hoodie, shrinking into himself, “You don’t have to--”

“I know,” Remy said, looping his arm through the guy’s and urging him down the street. Luckily, the guy let himself be pulled along. “Call me a good samaritan.”

~

Remy ushered his guest into the apartment, and hung up his jacket. His guest made no move to remove his hoodie, so Remy showed him to the tiny kitchen where there was a spindle of K-cup coffees, teas, and other options available. “Pick your poison,” Remy said, giving the spindle a little twirl. The guy plucked out a cup of hot chocolate, and Remy hit the buttons on the machine to start it brewing. “Be right back,” he said, and slipped into his bedroom. He changed into his favorite pjs - warm brown flannel with little coffee cups on them - and pulled out a pair of black pjs for his guest. He left the bedroom, and saw his guest standing awkwardly as he watched the hot chocolate drip into a mug. “I left some clean clothes on the bed for you,” Remy said, and his guest offered a mumbled “thanks” before disappearing into the bedroom.

The Keurig sputtered to a stop, and Remy deftly swapped out the mugs and slipped in another K-cup to start his own coffee brewing. “Want some marshmallows?” he called out, pulling a bag of mini marshmallows from the cabinet.

“Surprise me.” the guy called back, and Remy dropped a handful of marshmallows into the hot chocolate, and added a good-sized swirl of whipped cream on top with a drizzle of chocolate sauce. He was just finishing the concoction when his guest re-emerged, looking adorable in Remy’s slightly oversized pjs. The guy’s purple hair was mussed but looked like it had been finger-combed, and Remy could see dark circles under his eyes.

“Here ya go!” Remy said, passing him the mug. The guy raised an eyebrow at the sugar overload, but didn’t comment on it. “Uh, thanks.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie.” Remy grabbed his coffee and plopped down on one end of the sofa. His guest followed and gingerly sat down on the other end of the couch. “What do you wanna do now? We could watch some TV…” Remy turned on the television. “It’s A Wonderful Life” was playing, and a haggard James Stewart was walking next to a bridge railing. Remy quickly switched the television off, “Or not.” He turned to his guest, “How about talking? Do you… wanna talk about what’s wrong?”

His guest shrugged, “Not really.” He took a sip of hot chocolate, and Remy resisted the urge to wipe off the smudge of whip cream from his upper lip.

“You’ve got some-” Remy gestured at his own lip.

“Oh, thanks,” said the guy as he licked the cream away. “It’s good.”

“I should hope so! I’d be a pretty crappy barista if I couldn’t make a simple hot chocolate.” Remy grinned. “I’m Remy, by the way. Whose company do I have the pleasure of this evening?”

The guy’s eyes widened. He set his mug down on the coffee table, pulled back the sleeve of the pajamas, and showed the bare skin of his wrist. Remy recognized his name, written in his own sloping handwriting on the guy’s skin. “No way!” Remy exclaimed, pushing his own sleeve down to show off his soulmate mark. “You’re Virgil?”

The guy - Virgil - nodded, his eyes locked on Remy’s wrist. “I didn’t think-” he started, then trailed off.

“Well, this was definitely not how I pictured meeting you.” Remy tried for humor, but Virgil didn’t laugh. “Look...You’re obviously going through some shit, and I’m not gonna play and say that finding me is gonna make it all better. But you’re not alone, and I want to be there for you… if you’ll let me.”

“Can I…” Virgil bit his lip, looking away. “Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“What? Spill,” Remy urged, laying a hand gently on Virgil’s arm.

Virgil looked at Remy’s hand, but didn’t move to shake it off. He swallowed hard, “Will you just… hold me? Just for tonight?” he asked hesitantly.

He lightly messed with his sleeves, getting out his pen and drawing a small message on his arm to detail the other onto where he was, giving specific instructions on how to get there from the terminal. 

Virgil was still slightly upset about the new rules put in place at airports about how people were not allowed to go to the docking areas without a ticket. The purple banged man having much rather went to meet the other as he got off the plane.

This would be the first time Virgil and Logan had ever met face to face, though it wasn’t that uncommon for soulmates not to officially met until their twenties. After all, your soulmate could be anyone across all the continents, he just got lucky that his soulmate and m shared a common language.  

Virgil spotted ahead of slicked-back hair in the distance, a minute grin spreading across his face as he notices the face from a few photos he had seen. The dark hair is paired with deep blue eyes as rectangle cut glasses.

Virgil tried to push through the crowd, heading over to where the man with a confused expression was standing. His arms were waving round in the air, trying to catch the attention of the other male as he slowly made progress to get to him.

Logan glanced up, spotting the other male, and giving him a small smile. As Virgil began to get closer, Logan opened up his arms to pull the other close. The Danish man’s shirt was finely tailored to his frame, showing off the normal style of clothing from his country.

Virgil finally broke through, crushing himself into the embrace of Logan. He began to relax, enjoying the few moments of touch he was able to handle before he quickly needed to pull away.

Logan quickly hugged him back, letting go as the other did, then placing a small kiss to his head as he smiled down at him, “It’s nice to finally meet you in person, took long enough, after all, didn’t it?”

“It really has, hasn’t it? I’m twenty-two, your turning twenty-nine soon,” Virgil hummed, gently directing them out of the platform pathway, “So, was there anything in particular that you wanted to see while over here?”

Logan nodded along as Virgil spoke then thinking for a second at the question he had been asked, “Well, the ball is dropping soon, might I suggest that we go to watch that.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two sat in the window seating of Virgil’s complex, watching the entirety of the new year’s celebration from the relative peace that his home provided. Logan had a content smile on his face, glad to finally be nearer to his soulmate.

They had worked together earlier that day to draw a piece of art across their arms, both of which becoming interwoven with examples that showed heart deep examples of each individual.

The count down began, bright colors filling the sky as the ball light up, fireworks starting to shoot across the sky.

10 The count down began, the two men holding onto each other lightly. A peaceful aura settling firmly down on them,

9  Virgil gave a light sigh, closing his eyes as he rested his head on Logan’s shoulder. A small smile played on the corner of his lips, a true one, rarely ever showed to anyone. A smile that he knew from now on would be reserved solely for Logan.

8  Logan looked down with a gentle smile, placing a light kiss to the top of his head. His arm held on a little bit firmer, trying to grounds himself to the moment.

7 They could hear the rustling of the crowd, the anxiousness piercing through the glass of the window to settle into their bones. Virgil started to fidget with his finger, the leather biker gloves on his hands making a slight rustle.

6 The crowd could be heard starting to countdown, not as loud as they would when they hit five, but still with plenty of sounds. Deep breaths were taken, small glances made.

5 The number echoed through the city, everyone had their eyes glued to the sign of new beginnings that lay in front of them.

4 Logan gently placed a finger under Virgil’s chin, tilting his head to look him in the eyes. His blue eyes scanning his face. His glasses had been momentarily removed, which confused Virgil as he knew how little the other could see without them.

3 Virgil looked up at him in a moment of puzzlement, for a second not truly sure what his button-up wearing boyfriend was thinking of doing. The logical man has a gentle look on his face, a look that immediately put the anxious young adult at ease.

2 Virgil slowly closed his eyes as it finally came together in his mind, his make up having been removed earlier in the night to showcase the freckles underneath. He began to move forward, leaning up closer to his boyfriend.

Millions of stars twinkled brightly miles above the two of them, standing out crystalline and beautiful against an inky canvas. There were a few clouds, but not many, and the new house they lived in together was far enough away from the city that there was almost no light pollution. The vastness of the night sky made Logan feel so small, so insignificant, that he involuntarily relaxed his shoulders, the tension melting off of him if only temporarily. Knowing that he was just another blip in the universe, seeing and experiencing just how vast the rest of the galaxy was, it made it far too easy to take a step back and just be.

Most of the time, Logan has so much pressure on him to be perfect, to succeed in every aspect of his life, that he gets completely wrapped up and absorbed in it until he knows little else beside his work and his home. In times like those, he was more than happy to put aside everything and get caught up in the stars. He could have stopped existing in that moment, or at least existed a little less than he did before. Every negative feeling wisped away from him, sucked into the night air by the temperate breeze. He exhaled a deep, steadying sigh, letting him relax into the blanket and the soft grass beneath it.

Fingers that were not his own found him, brushing against his hand tentatively. Logan turned his hand and laced his fingers together with Virgil’s, a warmth blossoming in his chest at the little smile on the blond’s face. It would be hard to describe with words how perfect this moment in time was to Logan, how wonderfully every little event in their lives met up with each other to create this scenario. All he could do was marvel at what he had, how lucky he was to have someone who accepted him wholeheartedly and without question.

“They remind me of you, you know.”

The sentence floated in the space between them, nearly tangible but not quite. Virgil furrowed his eyebrows.

“How so?”

“They’re,” Logan started, but stopped, trying to form the right words. “They’re mysterious, deep, and lovely all at the same time and it’s complex and incredible. It’s something that seems so simple but is incredibly artistic in its own right. They take my breath away.”

Virgil was silent, and when Logan glanced at him, he found the other’s green eyes focused on him intently, his gaze unreadable. Something jump-started in his chest, and a wave of nervousness overtook him.

“I-I mean, they’re just so cool, you know? There’s just so many stories behind each constellation and a lot o-of other cultures have vastly different stories for a single constellation compared to other cultures and it’s just incredible to think about, billions of different people from everywhere all having seen the same stars we’re looking at now a-and,” he rambled, pausing only to take a breath before he was cut off by a squeeze on his hand. He dared to look at Virgil again, having looked back up to the sky in his nervousness, and found a soft smile on the other’s face.

“Lo, it's alright.”

Logan’s mind ground to a comfortable halt. Not the stuttering, sudden cease of troubling thoughts that he was used to when caught off-guard, but instead the gradual slowing of the thoughts and worries buzzing around in his head. It was so easy, natural even, to listen to Virgil and his voice, to focus only on the feeling of their hands twined together. It was easy to get lost in who he was as a person, the oversized pullovers and hoodies, the movie nights, the quiet contemplation over coffee in the morning.

Virgil was comfort, and Logan was fine with it.

“You really think all that about me?” His voice is quiet, dispersing into the night and getting sucked away by the darkness above them.

“I,” Logan starts, but then falters. He doesn’t know what to say, yet knows everything he could possibly ever want to say to Virgil. “Yes, I do.”

The gentle smile that graced Virgil’s face made Logan’s heart do backflips. He could see the other’s eyes soften with emotion and the upward quirk of his lips. He could faintly see the reflection of the stars above them in his green eyes, making them look like the most precious jewels.

“For what it’s worth,” Virgil said, his tone smooth and calm, “I think you’re pretty great, too.”

Logan bit back a smile and rolled over slightly, bearing his other arm out to the blond, who immediately took the offer and snuggled up next to him, burying his face into the other’s shoulder. Logan wrapped his arm around the other’s back, holding him close, and pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of his head. He heard Virgil breathe a content sigh, and he finally allowed the smile he was holding back to appear.

Everything about this was perfect.

Virgil mumbled something into his shoulder. Logan shifted away slightly to reveal the other’s face, and in a quiet voice he said, “What?”

“I love you.” It was quieter than last time, tinged with that familiar edge of anxiety, but Logan heard it all the same. Warmth spread out in that perfect radiation again, seeping down his arms and legs from his chest, and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he drew Virgil closer again.

“I love you too.”

Above the couple, the night stretched out endlessly. Nothing disturbed them or shuffled around them, save for the breeze rustling the hair on their head. The world moved on, pushing forward through time like it always did, but as far as Logan was concerned, the entire world was right here, curled up against his chest. Time could have stopped and he wouldn’t have cared or noticed. All he cared about was the soft breathing of Virgil, of the grass under the blanket they laid on, the gentle whisper of crickets carried by the breeze that caressed them.

Virgil cursed them under his breath before speaking louder, “You say that like I stalk him or something.”

“Why don’t you go talk to him?” Remus podded.

“Because he’s the model student of the school and I’m a delinquent maybe? Or have you forgotten that?” Virgil opened his backpack and pulled out two tupperware kits. He slid one to each of the others, “Here. We made Korean beef and rice today.”

The two thanked him as they began to eat. Dolos smiled, “I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, you’re a really good cook Virgil.” He paused for a brief moment before exclaiming, “I know! How about you cook something for Logan? That might get his attention.”

“And paint myself as a weirdo? Like, ‘Hey, I know we haven’t properly talked since seventh grade, but I really liked you back then and I still like you! Have this cake I made for you!’? No thanks.”

The three fell silent as Dolos and Remus continued to eat. Virgil’s attention shifted back to Logan. He would glance up occasionally when one of his friends said something. Sometimes Virgil found himself jealous of Patton and Roman for being best friends with Logan. But he quickly tossed those feelings aside. There was nothing to be jealous of.

A shrill bell rang out announcing the end of lunch. Virgil shoved his tupperware back into his bag and waved goodbye to Remus as he headed off. Dolos and Virgil shared language arts after lunch so they made their way to the classroom together. The class was boring per usual. The pair sat next to one another and passed notes instead of focusing on the movie. Virgil had read the book plenty of times and seen the movie many more. He even owned the movie. He already knew everything about it and knew he would ace the test.

The class after that was chemistry with Mr. Sanders. Virgil dreaded this class, but it was also his favorite. The class itself was okay and Mr. Sanders was kind and friendly. Yet Logan was also in the class. While he wasn’t aware of it, he always managed to distract Virgil.

The purple haired teen walked into the classroom and made a bee line for his seat. It was several desks away from the door. He kept his eyes down the whole time to avoid glancing over at his crush who was seated four rows ahead of him. When the bell rang to begin class Virgil began to count down the minutes until it was over. Everytime he looked up to check the spelling of his notes or the clock, his eyes drifted to the back of Logan. He could see the other’s muscles moving through the black fabric as he wrote.

Virgil tore his eyes away from Logan’s back. He looked anywhere else. At the black tables lining the room that are used for experiments. At other students’ bags or shoes. At the cabinet full of various supplies. They landed on the clock. Thirty more minutes. Finally, he figured he’d tune back into the lesson. Every so often, he’d catch himself staring at Logan’s back again. And each time he’d force his attention elsewhere.

Just as the class was packing up, Logan approached Mr. Sanders. Virgil watched in curiosity as they spoke. Mr. Sanders smiled and clapped his hands together to gain the class’s attention. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up at him.

“Class, Logan has just told me that he is now going to start offering one-on-one tutoring for those who need and- or want it. He is writing his number on the board so anyone who wants can contact him to set up a session,” Mr. Sanders beamed.

Logan sure enough had his number written on the board in large, clear numbers. Virgil realized this was his first time seeing his hand writing. It was crisp and neat and… Actually really pretty. The raven haired male spoke up, “Do not call or text me after nine o'clock or before five thirty. Please do not spam me nor call during school hours. I can help through text or over the phone if you can not meet in person. That is all.”

Without thinking, Virgil jotted down the number and made note of when not to message or call. He closed his notebook and shoved it in his backpack just as the bell rang. The male bolted for the door and disappeared into a crowd of students.

“You should totally text him!” Remus exclaimed, “This is your chance Virge!”

Virgil groaned. He regretted telling Remus and Dolos about Logan’s tutoring sessions. Now they’d find some way to force him to text Logan. They wouldn’t rest until Logan agreed to go out with Virgil- or reject him completely. He should have never let Dolos borrow his chem notes. They’re not even that good. It’s mostly just a bunch of correct spelling. He should have known Remus was going to also look at them and asked about the number. I should have lied about it.

Remus kept pressing for Virgil to text Logan or to even call him. The purple haired male didn’t notice Dolos grab his phone and start typing away. With a chuckle, Dolos placed the phone back down in front of Virgil, “There. That fixes the issue.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed at his bleach blonde friend. He quickly picked up his phone, “What fixes the issue? What did you do?”

“Set up a tutor session between you and Logan after school tomorrow.”

“I don’t need tutoring. I-” Virgil started before being cut off.

“Good thinking Dol!” Remus laughed and high hived Dolos.

Virgil stared down at his phone. A conversation between ‘him’ and Logan stared back. He felt like telling Logan the truth and cancelling the session. Surely he would understand… But what if he takes it the wrong way? Like I don’t need his help? Or that I think I’m above his help? Gah stupid Dolos…

“Fine. I’ll do this one session with him and that’s it. Got it?” Both Dolos and Remus nodded. “But Dol, you need to to talk to Roman then.”

Dolos’ face flushed. He opened his mouth a few times before closing it. Remus snickered at the sight. After a minute, Dolos nodded, “Deal.”

The next day was agonizing. Virgil had hoped he’d wake up sick to get out of the deal. Luck wasn’t on his side. He could hardly pay attention to his classes- not that he did half the time anyways. During lunch, Dolos informed him that he had spoken to Roman during Spanish class. Virgil didn’t believe him until Roman passed by and waved at Dolos.

By the time chemistry class rolled around, Virgil’s stomach was in knots. He lingered outside for a few minutes so he went in just before the bell rang. He hardly took notes and barely processed the words being said. When everyone started packing up, Logan approached Virgil.

“Hello Virgil. I would just like to confirm that we will be meeting in the library at three for your tutoring session,” Logan’s voice was flat and monotone. Yet Virgil’s heart leapt into his throat at the sound. He swallowed back the lump.

“Yeah… Totally… I’ll see you there!” He hated the words the second they left his mouth. Why did he have to say it like that? Logan nodded and the bell rang.

Virgil walked into the library to find Logan already at a table waiting. He walked over to the raven haired boy and sat down next to him. His brown eyes scanned the table. Logan already had his chemistry book and notes out. He began to pull his own out of his bag, “Hey Logan.”

“Virgil,” Was all he received back. When Virgil put his notebook on the table, Logan grabbed it, “May I look through your notes to see what all you have already?”

The purple haired male nodded. He watched as Logan frowned. His blue eyes piercing through Virgil. The latter smiled weakly as he already knew what his notebook looked like.

“This is nearly empty Virgil.”

“I know, I just…” Have most things down by memory... “Get confused as to what is important to write down and what isn’t?”

Logan sighed. He flipped through the notebook again, “We’ll start with definitions then move on from there.” Virgil nodded.

The session went smoothly. Logan was fairly patient and explained everything thoroughly. Virgil played dumb and asked for 'clarification’ occasionally. The hour flew by fast for the pair.

Virgil packed his things away. He messaged Dolos that the session was over. He watched as Logan began to pack up as well. He raised an eyebrow, “Don’t you have another session? I mean, you’re top student so plenty of people must want your help.”

“Everyone else simply texted me their questions. You are the only one who asked for a one-on-one session so far.”

“Oh.”

The two began to make their way to the parking lot. Virgil hated the silence. It made him anxious and uncomfortable. He had to break it, “Do you have your own car or are you getting picked up?”

Logan glanced at him, “I have my own car. Parents got me one when I turned sixteen. You?”

“I have my license, but can’t afford a car. Dolos is picking me up though,” Virgil explained.

“Ah. I see.”

A silence fell between them. They reached the student parking lot. It was relatively vacant with about ten cars. Virgil looked around for Dolos’ vehicle and groaned. He wasn’t here yet.

“I can give you a ride if your friend doesn’t show up,” Logan offered as he realized what Virgil groaned about.

Blush painted Virgil’s cheeks and he looked away from Logan hastily, “Thanks for the offer, but I’m sure he’ll show. He’s probably just trying to get his little sister into the car. He has to watch her while their mom is at work.” Why did I just tell him that? He didn’t need to know why Dolos is most likely late. He just needed to know that Dolos will show up.

“Um, okay then. Well,” Logan shrugged, “How about we have another session since you appear to need the help.”

Virgil’s heart pounded. He didn’t need the help. But this could be his chance to at least befriend Logan. He would be an idiot to waste this opportunity. “Yeah sure. I’m usually free whenever so whenever you can…” He trailed off.

“Tomorrow after school? Same time?”

“Yeah. Sounds good,” Virgil smiled.

Dolos pulled up just then. He waved at both of them. Virgil rolled his eyes and began to make his way to the car. He turned around quickly, “Bye Logan! I’ll… See you tomorrow?”

Logan waved with a nod, “Yes. Goodbye.”

Virgil hopped into the front seat and looked at the back seat. He waved at Trinity, “Hey Trin. How was your day at school?”

“We had a party! And I got to eat cake! And drink soda! And candy!” Trinity beamed. Virgil laughed and Trinity joined in.

“Ssssooo, Virgil… How’d your lil’ study session go, hmm?” Dolos asked.

The purple haired male faced his friend. Dolos shot him a glance. Virgil looked down at the floorboard, “It was good. He thinks I know absolutely nothing since my notebook is nearly empty- or was. He had me copy lots of his notes. And we… Uh… We’re having another session tomorrow.”

“Ooohhh. Virgil! Look at you! Willingly doing another session!”

“Shut up.”

The following weeks, Virgil met up with Logan after school two to three times a week. Remus and Dolos always poked fun at him. He always brushed off their remarks. He was content with where he was with Logan. They weren’t necessarily friends as they barely talked outside of the tutoring, but they were talking. And they were getting to know one another. Virgil told Logan about how he was an only child and how his parents were often at work. How they didn’t want him to work because they thought he should focus on school. How Dolos and Remus weren’t as bad as everyone seemed to think they were and how he’d never trade them out for anyone else.

In turn, he found out that Logan had a younger brother who was an eight grader and an older sister who was in college. He felt overshadowed by his siblings as the middle child and that why he made sure to make top student. He wanted his parents to be proud. And they are. Virgil also learned that Logan also didn’t have a job, but it was mostly due to his after school activities. That Logan’s best friends, Patton and Roman, always supported him at academic competitions.

Break time was rolling around and report cards were handed out first period. Virgil looked at his. All A’s. A few teacher’s left notes saying the typically “pleasure to have in class” while others were left blank. He stuffed the paper into a random notebook once he was done and left for his next class. Teachers throughout the day had also been giving back past works and tests. Virgil would have preferred to toss them out, but his parents wanted to see them. They could just look at his report card to know he was doing well in school, but they also wanted to ensure he was doing his work. So he tucked all the papers into their corresponding notebooks as he got them.

Virgil had a tutoring session later that day. He felt a bit bad about lying to Logan. Yet it got them talking so it was something. Besides, everyone else assumed he wasn’t very smart anyways. They all assumed because he preferred to do anything other than pay attention in classes, that he was failing. In reality, Virgil didn’t need to pay attention. He usually got most things down by memory after going over the materials a few times. He was much smarter than he let on. It’s not his fault everyone made assumptions just because he didn’t actively show it.

 Once Virgil entered the library, he looked around for Logan. He found him at a table near one of the windows. Logan saw him and waved him over. Virgil bit back a smile as he made his way to him, “Hey Lo.”

 “Hello Virgil,” Logan started, “Today will be shorter since break is coming up. There’s not a lot to review as Mr. Sanders prefers not to give us lots of work.”

 Virgil hummed in response. He pulled his notebook out and placed it down without looking as he pulled out his chemistry book. He looked up as he found it. Logan was flipping through all of the papers cramped in the notebook. Shoot! I forgot about them!

 Logan’s eyebrows furrowed. He set the stack down with a frown. Virgil began to sweat as anxiety started to creep in. Logan fixed Virgil with a look, “You don’t need this sessions, do you?”

 Virgil shook his head. His voice escaping him before he could explain.

 “Then why?”

 “Uhhh…” Virgil’s mouth felt dry as he worked fast on how to explain, “Well… Dolos actually was the one who texted you at first. And I was planning on telling the truth, but… I don’t know…”

 He shrugged and ducked his head trying to hide the blush settling on his cheeks. It was silent between them for several seconds. Virgil was growing more uncomfortable and his stomach twisted into knots.

 “Why did you keep doing them then? You, yourself, agreed to keep showing up.”

 “Well… I… Uhhh… Reallylikeyouandwantedtogettoknowyoubetteranddidn'treallyknowanyotherwaytosoyeah?” Virgil rushed out in a single breath.

 Logan blinked, “I’m sorry. I didn’t get all of that.”

 The purple haired male drew a shaky breath, “I said that I really like you and didn’t know how to talk to you. So I decided to use this time as an excuse to hang out…”

 “Oh.”

 Silence fell between them again. Virgil reached for his stuff to start packing up. He felt like ditching all of his stuff and running away. Logan’s hand stopped him as he rested it on top of Virgil’s.

 “You realize a simple ‘Hey Logan want to hang out sometime?’ would have sufficed? I wouldn’t have said no,” Logan said in a soft voice.

 Virgil froze. His eyes were glued on their hands. He could hear his heartbeat drumming in his ears. He started to slowly process what Logan told him.

 The raven haired male sighed. He rolled his eyes, “Hey Virgil. Want to hang out sometime?”

 Virgil’s eyes slid from where they were fixated to Logan’s face. His heart skipped a beat at the gentle smile Logan had, “But I lied to you?”

 “Yes, well, it was nothing major that you lied about. So how about I pick you up sometime during break and we go out to eat somewhere?”

 “Um… Yeah sure! Sounds great!” Virgil laughed nervously. His heart pounded in his chest. Holy shit that sounds a lot like a date. I don’t think I’ll survive!

 “Great! It’s a date then!” Logan stood up and began to walk off, “I’ll text you details later.”

 “D-date?!” Virgil exclaimed. He heard a shush come from presumably the librarian, but ignored it. Items forgotten, he scurried after the other.

 “Yes Virgil. A date,” Logan smiled back at him, “I do prefer someone smart that I can have intellectual conversations with.”

"Probably some dumb experiment," Virgil sneered, walking past Patton to grab something to eat. 

He shook his head, useless emotional thoughts clouding his judgment. I need to clear my mind. I need to rest so my brain can operate at optimal efficiency. Too much depends on me. He pushed his insecurities about his boyfriend to the back of his mind.

You are rationalizing the use of a frivolous activity to delay necessary work.

Falsehood. Daydreaming mimics a meditative state, reduces stress, augments problem-solving abilities, improves memory retention, and promotes the ability to be empathetic.

You do require significant improvement in your empathy. 30 years, and this is the first time the others have considered you cool.

Logan blinked, ignoring the stinging in his eyes. I know. Which is why I must continue this behavior, as well as keep it a secret from them.

It still demonstrates your weakness, your dysfunction as a Side, your inability to be perfect Logic, your failures to-

Cease this!

The voices faded to whispers, cruelly taunting his from the back of his brain, but Logan found it infinitely more tolerable. He snapped his bedroom locked and sound-proofed and opened the box, excited to see what he’d be playing. Ever since he’d given in to his guilty pleasure, he’d used mindscape magic to have to box choose whichever outfit would best fulfill his needs for those minutes he’d allow himself to pretend. He had to stop himself from smiling too widely when he saw that he’d get to play Crowley from Good Omens. He stripped out of his clothes and laid them on his desk so they wouldn’t get wrinkled, then changed into Crowley’s outfit as fast as he dared.

Once he got the cosmetic contact lenses in place, he stepped back and appraised himself in the mirror. The slim black outfit made him undeniably cool and attractive, and he was already holding himself differently. Logan sauntered out of his bathroom, swaying his hips dramatically, hoping he could manage the swagger Crowley possessed. He allowed his mind to slip into that of Crowley’s; the confidence, the largely uncaring attitude, the pure sex appeal. He imagined that he was speaking with Aziraphale on raising the Antichrist.

He walked up next to his bed. “Now Aziraphale,” he began, speaking into an empty space but pretending there was an angel before him “if the world comes to an end, you realize there’d be no more sushi?”

He spent the next hour leaping across his room, walking about and having imaginary conversations and confrontations with various characters, fixing the things he thought could be improved on and fully feeling the emotions of Crowley during his devastation and elation. He closed his eyes and felt a gentle breeze coming off a pond, heard the ducks bickering in the background, smelled the vanilla from a nearby ice cream stand. Most of all, he felt Aziraphale’s presence next to him, adoring gaze upon him. Logan smiled to himself.

Virgil would be quite perturbed if he found out he was Aziraphale and I was Crowley.

He jumped when the timer on his phone went off. He tapped his phone to get the alarm to shut off and pushed away the sadness he felt. Logan had to fight to keep unbuttoning his clothes; his body wanted to keep them on and to keep pretending. He couldn’t deny the feeling of melancholy as he slowly, carefully folded the clothes back in the box and closed it, returning it to the bottom drawer. When he stood back up, he had to squeeze his eyes shut and bite his bottom lip for a few moments to get his emotions under control.

After a few deep breaths, he opened his eyes and focused on his desk, attempting to metaphorically leave his sadness inside the box with his daydreaming outfit. He quickly pulled out his laptop and began working on the budget for the next Sanders Sides episode. Despite the previous episode just being posted, they needed to work on getting the next one into production so the Fanders wouldn’t have to wait too long. Yet another reason I cannot allow my credibility to be damaged. We cannot afford any delays in a Side who’s not Logic attempting to manage my work.

/////

Logan set his empty coffee tumbler on his desk and stretched. He was feeling rather victorious; the new Sanders Asides episode had gone off swimmingly, and the viewers were reacting quite positively to it, including his improvised line:

“Just your cool teacher being cool.”

Thomas and the Sides were beginning to accept that Logan could be tolerable on occasion, and he did not want them to forget that fact. The thought of them going back to not thinking he was cool made his throat close up. He could feel tears gathering in his eyes while his mind’s eye helpfully supplied him the images and sounds of his ideas being laughed at, the twinge in his chest that would happen, the devastation that would follow. He attempted to rein in his thoughts using logic, but to no avail. He whimpered tightly as his vision became spotty.

Oh. Oh dear. This is a panic attack.

Logan laid down on the ground to prevent injuries should he lose consciousness. He gripped the carpet uselessly and struggled to follow the breathing exercises he himself so often helped Virgil through.

He whined as he felt someone rise up in his room. No, they cannot see me like this, I am barely seen as palatable, I can’t bear to lose my credibility as stoic-

“Hey L, have you- Logan holy shit!”

No! Please, not Virgil! Please no!!

“Uh fuck, okay. Hey, it’s okay Logan, you’re safe. Can you hear my voice?”

Logan nodded, shamefully only just noticing how wet his face was from tears.

“It’s okay buddy, you’re having an anxiety attack. Whatever your huge brain is telling you right now, it’s not that bad. I promise, it’s never that bad.” Logan sensed Virgil hesitate next to him. “Is it okay if I touch you right now?”

Logan nodded again, closing his fingers around Virgil’s when he felt them.

“Alright, listen to my voice. Breathe in for one, two, three, four…”

Virgil helped Logan through the breathing exercises. Logan stumbled through the first few, but managed to breathe through the next couple despite his distress. By the time they had reached their twentieth breathing exercise, Logan’s body and mind were feeling calmer. He slowly opened his eyes, illogically not wanting to see Virgil’s face after being so… vulnerable. Virgil’s dark eyes were watching him in concern.

I have caused my boyfriend distress. I need to rectify this immediately.

Logan brought Virgil’s hand to his mouth and kissed it softly. It had the desired effect; Virgil blushed fiercely, his cheekbones and ears turning a gorgeous red.

Virgil cleared his throat. “Uh, feeling better?”

Logan smiled, adoring the deep timbre of his lover’s voice. “I am. Thank you, Virgil,” he said emphatically.

Virgil’s blush turned a deep crimson. “Do you feel like you can sit up?”

“I do.”

Virgil’s hand hovered behind Logan as he drew himself into a sitting position. It left him and Virgil sitting side by side, Virgil itching to act but not knowing what to do. Logan decided to put him out of his misery and kissed his shoulder.

“Shall we retire to bed? I find myself rather drained.”

“Yeah! Yeah, of course! Want any water?”

“Certainly, one mome-”

“Be right back!”

Logan smiled and huffed at his sweet, caring boyfriend. He snapped himself into pyjamas, not wanting to embarrass himself or Virgil. He crawled under the covers just as Virgil returned with the promised glass of water.

“Here you go!” Virgil said, shooting finger guns at Logan and promptly wincing.

Logan quirked an amused brow and sipped the cool liquid. It soothed his parched mouth and throat and helped to further calm him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Virgil asked, mumbling.

Logan delicately set the glass on the nightstand. “No, I’d rather not.”

“Your call.”

Virgil watched Logan worriedly and crawled into bed next to Logan. He laid down and gathered Logan into his arms, clutching him against his chest. Logan smiled at the actions of the protective Side.

“I love you Logan.”

“I love you too Virgil.”

With a kiss to the top of his head, Logan drifted off to sleep.

/////

Logan practically ran to the bookcase that held his secret. The next Dark Side had been revealed, and he’d been talked over almost constantly. Thomas had finally gotten the other Sides to hear Logan out, and Logan understood because it was more of a creative endeavor, but the stress of having something to say and not being able to be heard over the din of panic had his blood pressure rise.

He set a timer for a half-hour - he was expected for dinner - and started tugging at his tie while he pulled out his box. He nearly jumped up and down when he saw what was inside.

Grinning in excitement, he quickly got into his Sherlock Holmes outfit. He pushed back the memory of amused judgment from Thomas and the other Sides.

Especially Virgil’s.

Logan adjusted his scarf. He’s apologized, he was only acting defensively because he thought he had to, he thought we hated him, he was in so much pain, he’s already apologized many times…

He shook his head and grabbed the empty pipe from the bottom of the box. He pretended to take a few puffs before smacking his lips.

“Interesting theory Wat-”

His bedroom door slammed open. “LOGAN!! REMUS HAS SHARKS AND- wait what? What’re you doing?”

Logan’s back stiffened and he froze in horror. He felt something in his chest shatter as tears quickly built in his eyes. No no no no no no no…

“L?”

Please GOD no, not Virgil! Please! Please no! Oh god, I can’t, I can’t look at him, he’ll see how pathetic I am, how horrible of a Logic I am, how useless I am. He likes me being serious, he likes my calm, my lack of theatrics. He’s going to break up with me, he now sees what I am, a, a…

A freak.

Logan’s throat spasmed in silent, painful sobs. He bit back a whimper when he heard Virgil walking closer. Please, please don’t look closer. Please spare me a single shred of dignity. Please do not gaze upon me. He’s going to tell everyone, and they’re all going to never listen to me again, Thomas will keep me locked in my room, I’ll lose all their love...

“Uh… what are you doing?”

Logan sniffled loudly. “Nothing of importance,” he said thickly, feeling a curious guilt at calling his daydreaming unimportant.

“Okay… It doesn’t look like nothing, Lo. What’s going on?”

Logan was shaking uncontrollably at this point. “I-I apologize f-for keeping this fr-from you, darling. I love you, s-so much.” His voice broke on the last syllable and he bent over a little, beginning to let out audible sobs.

“Oh! Oh shit, Lo, I love you too! Fuck,” Virgil circled around to Logan’s front and tilted his head up. Logan kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see the derision, the disgust, in his boyfriend’s eyes.

“Logan, it’s okay, I know you like your Sherlock costume. Shit, fuck, uh… do you want a hug?”

Logan let out a particularly painful sob at that. A final hug before we break up. A goodbye hug. “P-please.”

Logan collapsed into Virgil when lithe, warm, hoodie-cushioned arms wrapped around his shoulders. He finally allowed the dam to break, releasing his fear. His back and chest were heaving with grief.

“Shit, oh Logan, god. It’s okay, oh my god, you’re okay. Why didn’t you tell me something was wrong?”

“I-I’m sorry!”

“No, fuck, it’s okay! What’s wrong? Is it something with us?”

“N-no, I love you, b-but I’m-” Logan cried for a few moments before continuing, “I’m going to m-miss it.”

“Wh- are you breaking up with me?” Virgil gasped.

“N-no, but you d-do not want someone like m-m-me.”

Virgil let out a breath. “Fuck, okay, you scared me for a second. Lo, I want someone exactly like you. That’s why we’re dating, right?”

“I- yes, but what about-”

“No Lo. I know you like your Sherlock outfit. Is that what this is about?”

Logan nodded miserably into Virgil’s chest. “You’re always talking about how exhausting Roman can be and how I recharge you and-”

“Lo,” Virgil cut off again. “I panic sometimes, does that make you not love me?”

“Of course not!” Logan exclaimed, finally meeting Virgil’s eyes.

“Then you sometimes dressing up as Sherlock doesn’t bother me. It’s kinda cute actually.”

Logan’s lips quirked at the small blush on Virgil’s face. “But what if,” he sucked in a breath. “What if it’s more than…” he trailed off, too frightened to finish his sentence.

Virgil started rubbing Logan’s back. “I don’t care. I just want you to be happy. Like I said, it’s cute.”

Logan’s breath hitched. “Y-you don’t mind?”

Virgil shook his head, blush firmly in place. “Nah.”

“I d-don’t lose my credibility in y-your eyes? You’re n-not less attracted to me?”

“No, and definitely not.”

Logan searched Virgil’s face before kissing the tip of his nose. His breath with still shaking and his chest was still tight, but he didn’t feel like he was losing everything anymore.

“Irene Adler!”

Logan jumped at the outburst.

Virgil cleared his throat sheepishly. “Sorry. But don’t you need an Irene Adler?”

Logan blinked a few times. “I… I suppose so.”

Virgil snapped, and he was dressed in Victorian lace with elbow-length gloves. Logan raised an eyebrow, as Ms. Adler would not wear something so loud, but smiled appreciatively at Virgil.

Virgil traced his gloved hands over Logan’s sleeves. “Do you want to tell the others?”

Logan considered it for a moment before shaking his head. “Not yet.” I’m scared.

“Okay babe, we don’t have to. How do I look as Irene?”

Logan looked Virgil up and down. “Stunning, my dear.” He waved his hand, and slow jazz music began playing. “Shall we?”

         Patton rolled his eyes, “Logan it’s not just nonsense; it’s science! Just because you think you’re some kind of lone wolf doesn’t mean you don’t have a soulmate. Your eyes wouldn’t be grey if you weren’t still waiting for your person. So you can deny it all you want. It won’t change the fact that they’re waiting.”

         “I don’t have time for a soulmate, Pat. You and Ethan just work better; you have time to be in love and he’s patient enough to deal with… you.”

         Patton faked an offended gasp, “Just for that I’m not getting you a free drink next round! But you’re right, Ethan is perfect. However-”

         “There is no however.”

         ”However,” Patton continued. “It doesn’t mean that there isn’t someone out there who’s just as patient with your bullshit as Ethan is with mine. Now look you made me swear. I hope you’re happy.”

         “I think the three appletinis made you swear,” Logan said. “Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

         “Actually I’m going out of town in two days with the girls so they gave me time off.”

         “Out of town? That’s this week?” Logan asked.

         Patton finished his drink, “I love how much you listen when I talk. The pandas are being moved to the zoo in Atlanta so their enclosure can be remodeled and we’re hoping to get some breeding done while we’re out there. That’s why I told you that you have to take mom to the optometrist on Monday. If you forget that, Logan-”

         “Right right,” Logan said. “No I’ll remember it’s… it’s in my phone.” He looked at his empty glass of whiskey but pushed it aside, deciding he’d better stay sober, “So what’s Ethan thinking about this longterm separation?”

         Patton snorted, “One of his retics laid a ton of eggs and she bit his face when he was pulling the clutch. Now he’s walking around like Crocodile Dundee. Plus the whole clutch is viable so we’re looking at a lot of new snakes to add to the national program. He’s in talks with a zoo in Taiwan too about some bloodline trades. It’s really annoying sometimes. He gets dozens of babies a season and I’m lucky if I’ll see more than two or three in my career.”

         “Well you chose the pandas,” Logan said.

         “I’ll have you know the pandas chose me,” Patton said. “You want another drink?”

         “Nah, I’ll drive you home,” Logan said. “Go flirt with the bartender and see if he’ll pretend to think you’re young some more.”

         Patton laughed as he slid out of his seat, walking over to the bar. On the dancefloor Logan saw a small group of students, a few of which he recognized—one in particular a large pain in his ass. Remus Prince, Quarterback of the university football team and well-known idiot. Logan wished Remus was the typical jock idiot, uncaring and arrogant, one he could easily fail without a second thought, but Remus was bound and determined to make up for his own shortcomings with hard work and extra credit. It meant that half of Logan’s office hours were spent patiently explaining things to Remus again and again, and accepting an outlandish amount of extra credit work.

         And—even more annoyingly—through it all Remus was cheerful, friendly and actually interested in what Logan had to say. Worse still, Remus was a senior, only four years younger than Logan who was the baby of the science department and didn’t he just hate that little nickname? Remus was like a peer, but worse, a jock, the kind of person that would have made Logan’s life miserable if they’d ever walked the same halls together as students. The revelation that Remus was gay was… interesting? No, not interesting. He’s a student and you don’t care. Logan rubbed his eyes and sighed, jumping when Patton returned with two appletinis. He sat down and stared at his brother matter-of-factly, “Guess how much these cost me?”

         Logan raised an eyebrow and couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips, “How are we related?”

          Patton was a lot heavier than he looked when he needed to be carried, and Logan struggled up the stairs to the door of the apartment, knocking on the door. It was a cute place, all brick and right on the street, divided in half horizontally to make a duplex, but it was roomy and it was nice for two people on zookeeper salary; it was inexpensive—for Florida. Ethan opened the door and Logan gasped, “Ethan, your face!”

         Ethan did smile, and there was more than a little pride in it, “Don’t worry. She hit above and below my eye but the doc said to keep a full dressing on it at night so I don’t rub anything off. He cool?”

         “Vodka drunk,” Logan said, hauling Patton inside and laying him on the couch. “Not too bad but I told him I’d stay sober and I think he needed to drink off some stress.”

         “The move, yeah,” Ethan said, following Logan back to the door. “And my face. He’s not really loving how many times I take the bandage off to show people but it’s my first big tag! You wanna see the pictures from the ER?”

         “Gosh I’d love to but I have class in the morning so-”

         “Ethan!” Patton called from the livingroom, “Come sex me up, Mr. Snake Whisperer!”

         “Good luck with that,” Logan said. “Tell him to call me when he’s less obnoxious.”

         “Will do,” Ethan said. “Bye Logan.”

         Logan snorted when Patton called again and started down the stairs, “Good luck!”

                   Logan looked at himself in the mirror after taking out his contacts and smiled at his grey eyes; grey was distinguished, and he didn’t mind having a constant reminder—for himself and others—that he was beyond all of this soulmate nonsense. He was a lone wolf, just like Patton said, and his true love was forensic anthropology—or biology, as he was currently teaching. His application was top in line for the anthropology department, however, and he had consulted a time or two on actual cases. So, despite Patton’s—and his mother’s—insistence that his life was somehow incomplete, Logan couldn’t be happier. He turned off the bathroom light and crawled into bed, thinking back over his tasks for the day, all of which he’d completed before he ever set foot inside the gay bar with his brother. It was the same way he lulled himself to sleep every night, assured of all of his accomplishments, large and small, and how every day was a blank slate.

         Sleep came quick for him, thanks to the single glass of whiskey and the exhaustion of dealing with his drunk brother—and his sober brother-in-law. His dreams were blurry and immemorable until suddenly his vision was filled with green. There were calloused hands on his skin, warm lips on his cheek and breath in his ear, and he was held against a solid body with a grip that was surprisingly strong. He closed his eyes and still all he could see was green.

         Logan gasped and sat up, checking the clock and scowling; it was still the middle of the night and he was baffled by the strange dream and irredeemably hard. He sighed heavily and climbed out of bed, heading back into the bathroom and turning the shower to cold, stripping off his pajamas. Who the hell did he know that was associated with green, anyway? He didn’t even like the color green, his favorite color was indigo, far from the blinding lime he’d been accosted with in his dream. Any thoughts of the dream went screaming from his mind when he stepped into the water; his chest tightened and he exhaled involuntarily, “F-fuck!”

He tightened his hands into fists and endured the water, somehow preferring cold-induced heart palpitations to ward off an unwanted erection than perhaps the more obvious—and less miserable—solution. It was easier to be stubborn and miserable than to admit—and revel in—the fact that something had gotten him going, and that it had to be the dream. Whiskey wasn’t exactly known for facilitating physical arousal, and he’d barely had enough to taste in the first place.

                           “Morning!” Remus announced as he knocked on the open office door.

         “Good morning,” Logan said, “Come in, Mr. Prince.” He cleared away the end of his desk where Remus usually worked and stacked up the papers elsewhere. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

         Remus laughed, his cheeks a bit pink; Logan wondered if he was getting a cold—and how much that would panic the other professors about the state of the football team. He took a sip of his coffee as he sat down. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Well I have the three essays to turn in, and I did the makeup dissection test with Professor Picane’s Zoological Anatomy class… the uh… feral pig?”

         “Fetal pig,” Logan said, putting his coffee cup aside. “He sent your scores up to me. Good work. You got everything right except for the microscope work. We’re still struggling with cellular identification. I spoke with Emile and he said you actually seemed to have issues where things were similarly colored, so I took the liberty of emailing you some color-blind tests. I’m also inviting you to come in during my freshman course tomorrow. I use different dyes in my slides and I think you’ll benefit from it.”

         “Great!” Remus said. “You really go above and beyond to help me, Professor Heart. I um… well, thank you so much.”

         Logan crossed his legs, leaning back in his chair, “You know, Remus, I think you’ve got a lot of potential, and I think you’ve been pushed through classes due to your athletic prowess—to your detriment. I really want to help you understand that you’re not lacking in intelligence, you understand. You’ve got the answers, we’ve just had to learn how to get to them, right?”

         “Right,” Remus said, ducking his head shyly. “You’re always right.”

         “Now, with these three essays and with you making up the microscope work tomorrow, there’s no need for anymore extra credit work. You’ve got this, Mr. Prince. All you have to do is attend all of the lectures and you’ll be on track for a strong grade in this class. Do you feel like you need any more help?”

         Remus hesitated, “I  mean… you’ve done so much. I know you’ve basically changed my life, and how I feel about science—school in general! I um… I guess if I need anything I’ll just schedule a day before finals. If you think I can do it, I think I can do it.”

         Logan smiled, “Very good, Remus. You’ve got this.”

         Remus set the three essays down on the empty part of the desk and looked over them, “I can’t believe this is it, you know? I’m going to graduate in less than a month.”

         “Another year on the books,” Logan said. “Wait until you’re my age.”

         “You’re not old,” Remus said. “You’re still in your twenties too. Oh!” He picked up his backpack and dug through it, pulling out a small cardboard box. He set it on the desk. “I know your real interest is anthropology, like the cop kind, and I um… well, my dad works in the big museum uptown. They got a few of these and they gave my dad two of them.”

         Logan took the box and opened it, raising an eyebrow as he took out a human skull, obviously prepared and preserved professionally. “This is a nicely intact specimen. You’re certain this is alright?”

         “Yeah my dad said he’d rather it go to somebody who wants it than just gather dust in our basement or the museum’s basement. Oh they said it had uh… crouton disease?”

         “Crouzon Disease,” Logan said, standing up. “Hyperostosis Frontalis Interna, very interesting. Thank you Remus this is incredibly thoughtful.”

         Remus watched Logan put the skull in a central place on his shelf of books and specimens; it looked good, but Remus wasn’t really paying attention to the skull, especially when Logan turned and gave him a smile, extending his hand. Remus jumped up and shook it eagerly, “Thank you again, professor. You’re my hero. You’re especially my parents’ hero.”

         Logan chuckled, and the touch was mildly electric, probably static, but it made Logan shiver, “You’re the hero, Mr. Prince. Remember that, hard work got you this far, and it’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

         Remus nodded, slowly releasing Logan’s hand and stepping back to grab his backpack. “Well, see you in class tomorrow! Eight, right?”

         “Right,” Logan said. “And don’t forget the possibility of a pop quiz tomorrow in your actual class.”

         “Possibility,” Remus chuckled. “Good one, Professor Heart. See you then.”

         Logan watched him go and sighed, turning to admire the skull, a warmth blooming in his chest he’d never really felt before. It really was a nice skull, he supposed.

          Logan drove home with that feeling intact, almost floating into the elevator and riding it up to his floor. After making it down the hallway, and the obligatory avoidance of his neighbor’s eyes, he stepped into his apartment and locked the door behind him. He felt bone-deep exhausted—probably from the dream-cursed night before—and he went straight to the bathroom to take out his contacts. Once his contacts were safely back in their saline baths, he brushed his teeth, grabbing his glasses off of the vanity and putting them on. He admired his eyes—his green eyes. Logan gasped and squeezed his eyes closed, opening them again, still green. He took off his glasses, and his reflection was blurry, but clearly green eyes stared back at him. The warmth in his chest suddenly became a sharp icicle, and he realized. Green, Remus Prince. “Fuck!” Logan shouted, turning off the light and rushing out to his bedroom. He sat on the bed and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, dialing his brother.

         The phone rang several times, and went to voicemail; Logan swore again and dialed the home phone, “Come on Pat come on.”

         “Hey Logan! What’s up?”

         “Ethan? Oh, is Pat… oh shit.”

         “Alabama,” Ethan said. “Yeah. You ok?”

         “No, not at all… oh god. Can we talk? Like do you have time?” Logan stood up, pacing around the bed. “I have… an awkward situation.”

         “You? I don’t believe it.”

         Logan sighed and Ethan laughed, “I’d like to be serious with you for a moment.”

         “Of course,” Ethan said. “Go ahead.”

         “When you realized you were Patton’s soulmate, was there a feeling?”

         “Hm,” Ethan said. “Actually, yes. I thought I had heartburn, actually. Just like this warmth in my chest? It sounds a bit stereotypical but yeah. I felt warm. That night when I was washing my face I realized my eyes had changed. You doing a study?”

         “Um… no,” Logan admitted. “My eyes are green.”

         “Oh! Oh my god! Did you tell your mom?”

         “Please, Ethan. I have only told you.”

         “Do you know who it is?” Ethan asked. “Any clue?”

         “One of my students,” Logan said. “The… football player.”

         “Oh yeah I remember Patton mentioning him, the stupid one right?”

         Logan bristled, “He isn’t stupid. He’s…” He sighed, rubbing his temple, “Well, thank you Ethan. You’ve answered my question.”

         “Text Pat,” Ethan said. “He’ll lose his shit.”

         “Goodnight, Ethan,” Logan said.

         Logan hung up and set his phone on the nightstand before undressing, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and climbing into bed. He turned off the lamp and pulled the blanket over his head, willing himself to sink into the earth.

          The following morning’s class was a blur of barely-controlled panic and dread, but luckily Remus barely even spared him a glance, intent on taking and passing his cellular identification exam. Logan pretended to grade papers when Remus came up to his desk, and his heart surged like it had, warming to Remus like a rock in the sun, “See you in class.”

         Logan gave a noncommittal sound, and Remus left the classroom, allowing Logan to finally breathe. Ignoring this wasn’t going to be easy, and Logan was already getting frantic texts from his brother demanding an explanation. Logan briefly wondered how hard it would be to vanish without changing universities. The worst part, without question, was how badly he wanted Remus to touch him, even just a brush of his hand. His body was like a magnet and his hands were shaking even though their closeness had been brief. At least his upcoming class was taking a pop quiz, and they were to clear out as soon as answers were submitted.  

          Logan remained more or less glued to the desk during the hour between classes, grading the microscope work—Remus hadn’t missed a single slide, so Picane’s catch on the colorblindness had been spot on. Logan had felt a stab of jealousy, absurd as it was, that he hadn’t realized it sooner, first, because Remus was his soulmate—his.

         “Mine,” Logan muttered to himself, then his face heated up when he realized what he’d said, and he looked down to realize he’d written it on Remus’ exam answers. Quickly scratching it out he pushed the test aside and lowered his face to the desk. “What a nightmare.”

         “What’s a nightmare, Mr. Heart?”

         Logan looked up to see his first student sliding into her desk, and he forced a chuckle, “The state of the economy in nineteenth century Luxembourg.” He stood up and began writing on the board.

         “Will that be on the final?” another student asked. The classroom had started filling up.

         “Not unless I’ve ever written it on this board,” Logan said. “We start final prep next week, don’t forget.”

         He finished filling out the board as the rest of his students filed in, and once his watch beeped cheerily that class had started, he heard a voice pick up behind him, the same girl from before, “Is that your favorite tie, Mr. Heart? You wear it a lot.”

         “It’s my favorite color,” Logan said without turning around. “As charming as the distraction is, I haven’t forgotten the pop quiz.” He turned around and Remus was staring at him, mouth open in shock. On either side of him, his linebacker buddies were looking at one another, and Logan realized his mistake in revealing his favorite color—because he knew better than anyone what color Remus’ eyes must be now. Wincing, he adjusted his glasses, “Alright, please take out a clean sheet of paper and answer the questions I’ve written on the board. When you’re finished please leave them up here and you may go.”

         Logan sat at his desk and pretended to be working, jumping when the first student turned in their quiz, but calmed and kept his eyes down as the steady stream of quizzes landed on his desk. He was starting to feel safe when most of his students had gone, and he made the mistake of looking up when a loud pair of sneakers stopped at his desk. The room was empty, and Remus Prince was standing at his desk, quiz in his hand. He set it down with the others and shoved his hands in his pockets, “Your eyes are green. I never noticed.”

         Logan paled and stared up at Remus, “I um… it’s recent.”

         Remus nodded, “Me too, indigo, right? It’s a weird blue for eyes. My brother said they look like Liz Taylor whoever that is.”

         Logan let out a nervous little laugh, looking down at the paper he’d been doodling on only to realize he’d been writing the word mine over and over, “Yeah. She had um… dark eyes. So I suppose you’ve met your soulmate then, congratulations, Mr. Prince.”

         Remus looked around and then back at Logan, “You’re going to pretend it isn’t you?”

         Logan was feeling very much like a deer in the headlights, but at the same time heat was playing in his chest. He pushed his chair back and stood up, tensing when Remus reached to grab his wrist, “I’m not-” Logan tried to pull away but Remus shook his head, “I’m not pretending anything I… damn it. Damn it I’m afraid, ok? You’re a student!”

         “Not for long! Like two weeks from now I’m taking the final, and unless I stop showing up entirely, there’s no way I’m failing. I did the math which I know will impress you because I’m such an idiot.”

         “Mr. Prince,” Logan said, then sighed. “Remus… is this even something you want? A relationship dictated by some… some system we don’t even understand? By colors and chance and… what, fate? You want to let the universe stick you with someone… someone like me?”

         Remus laughed and released Logan, covering his face with his hands, “You don’t fucking get it, do you? You really don’t.”

         Logan wrapped his arms around himself, blushing and adjusting his glasses, “Don’t get what?”

         “I have wanted you since before I started in this class!” Remus said. “My brother, the attention whore? He had me come here last semester to pick up a paper for him, remember? If it was just fate shoving us together it would have happened then… but it didn’t. I thought you were hot, so I signed up for your class because I figured I’d cheat my way through and have a hot prof to stare at right?”

         “Hot?”

         “Just let me finish,” Remus said. “When I came in here and sat down at that desk and I listened to you read the syllabus… and all of your weird bone jokes and that thing about the swamp mummy?”

         “Bog bodies, the Tollund Man, yes,” Logan said. “You remember that?”

         “Yeah because you cared, like you actually cared about it. You’re not just here because you couldn’t get a career and you’re not just here to waste time. You really care about what you’re teaching us, and I know you’re trying to switch departments but whatever, you know what I mean… there’s a lot of passion there and it made me give a shit. It took me forty-five minutes to fall in love with your stupid class, and maybe two or three classes to fall in love with you… but still it didn’t happen. Because it didn’t happen until you fell in love with me.”

         Logan was silent as he stared at Remus, his mouth hanging open; he took a sharp breath, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Jesus.”

         “Well? Am I right?” Remus said, tears welling up in his eyes. “It’s the mustache right? My friends told me that’s the reason you didn’t tell me. Because you hate it. I don’t even care. I’ll shave it off, ok? I don’t care if it’s good luck I-”

         Logan crossed the short distance between them and kissed Remus, cutting him off. Remus grabbed Logan’s collar and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Logan’s mind spun, and his knees went weak. Remus had no trouble holding him up, and when they finally broke the kiss, Logan smiled sheepishly. “I don’t hate the mustache, as much as I wish I did. I really don’t.”

         Remus buried his face against Logan’s shoulder and laughed, “Great because I really need to keep it if I’m going to get drafted. Three of the NFL scouts commented on it.”

         “Yes I’m sure you’ll bring back the seventies mustache. Your parents will be ecstatic.”

         “Yeah… so um… are we dating?”

         “No,” Logan said, then off Remus’ look he hurried to elaborate. “Not until you pass this class of your own merit. Like you said, it’s no big deal and then, the second your final grade is logged in the university database… we can date.”

         Remus smiled, smoothing down Logan’s shirt as he stepped back, “Right, cool um… hey I should probably go then, right? Got studying to do. Bye teach.”

         “Mr. Prince,” Logan said, sinking back down into his seat once Remus was gone.

Morning came far too early. Logan laid on his back and watched as the night sky painted on his ceiling got lighter with the pale light of dawn. He watched as the little glow-in-the-dark stars went dull. Logan still watched the light on his ceiling as he heard Patton showering in the other room and a few hours later as the other sides passed down the hallway to join Patton in the kitchen for breakfast. His stomach rumbled at the thought of food, slight nausea rising inside him.

Logan turned to his side, now facing the door. By now it was bright enough that he was able to see the To-Do-List from this month. The nausea intensified as he stared at the three pages with only one merely point checked off. Today was the 24th.

Logan knew that he should get up, that he needed to strip off his old clothes, get into the shower to wash his hair, get out again and dry his hair as well as style it. Then he would need to find a clean shirt from the depths of the unloaded clean clothes laundry basket that he planned to put away three days ago. Then he needed to iron it, instead of just summoning it that way like usual since he was far too tired right now. And even after all that he would only complete half his outfit before he could down to breakfast and actually eat something before he could try to battle the evergrowing mountain of tasks. Logan could feel his exhaustion growing with an undertone of desperation at the sheer thought.

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Lo-Lo, are you awake? Breakfast is ready," Patton's voice sounded through the wood.

Logan pushed himself up into a sitting position. "I'll need a little longer. You can start without me, I'll eat something later."

He could hear him hesitate before his door before Patton seemed to give in, much to Logan's relief, although his door was always locked and wouldn't allow Patton to enter even if he would choose to try. He didn't want Patton to see him like this, looking like the physical embodiment of failure. He carefully listened to Patton's footsteps retreating and let out a heavy sigh when he heard him descending the stairs in his usual happy hopping pattern.

Somehow this encounter finally gave him the impulse to get out of bed. Instead of heading to the bathroom like he probably should, he decided to use this motivation while he still could to get some work done. He dragged himself across the room to his desk and powered up his laptop. He will shower and get a snack once he got something done, he promised himself as he opened the document of last night, already wincing at the countless red lines under the words placed in short jumbled sentences. His fingers started to hammer the laptop keys.

It was 3 am in the mindscape and Patton was just retreating to bed. Or rather he was creeping upstairs after having another Parks & Recs marathon in the living room.

The hallway was peacefully quiet in the low light that came from the unicorn-shaped flashlight in Patton's hand. He was about to go into his room, glad that his wandering didn't wake anyone up when a reflection caught his eye. Patton stepped closer and saw the plate with lunch leftovers still standing in front of Logan's door where he left it earlier this day. It was untouched.

Patton threw a worried glance at the logical side's door. He raised his hand to knock before he caught himself. It was three in the morning, Logan would be asleep by now and with how hard he had worked the last few weeks with all of Thomas' deadlines and the side' schedules for the video group meetings, he really needed his rest.

So instead Patton focused on teleporting the plate to the kitchen sink to be cleaned tomorrow. Then he went to bed. He would have to get up early again for breakfast and while he loved caring for his kiddos, he needed sleep too. Even a dad isn't invincible after all.

The sun rose late the next day, it almost being noon, and so did Patton. Given the time, he decided against making breakfast and instead cooked a quick soup, not cream-based of course, and cut up some fresh bread. Soon the smell of blended vegetables and curry washed through the kitchen.

When he went to clean up the kitchen, he found the plate from last night in the sink again and worry crept back into his mind.

However, he was distracted by Virgil sticking his bed head through the kitchen entry. "I smell food."

He turned and yelled over his shoulder. "Oi, royal pain in the ass, come down here, Patton made food!"

Patton smiled as he heard Roman scrambling down the stairs.

As soon as he reached the kitchen he started bickering with Virgil, but the sparkling eyes and hidden smiles didn't go unnoticed by Patton either, indicating that both sides had fun and weren't actually serious. They immediately went silent though when Patton placed a bowl on the table in front of each of them, their eyes immediately growing wide and stomach rumbling at the smell.

That they still loved his cooking so much, after all these years, always made Patton feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like a balloon of joy was swelling in his chest.

They sat down to eat. After the first few spoons, Roman stopped and frowned at the empty spot.

"Logan isn't coming?"

Patton sighed. "He's still working I think. He didn't eat lunch yesterday either. I'll bring him a bowl after." A determined look crossed his face. "And this time he'll damn well eat it."

Virgil snorted over his soup. "Well, then Logan doesn't stand a chance. Once our dear Patton goes into dad mode..."

Roman started to snicker and soon Patton joined in, his heart once more swelling with sheer love.

About an hour later Patton stood in front of Logan's still closed door. He was armed with soup, a spoon, and delicious self-made bread. This time he wouldn't let Logan make excuses. He knocked twice and waited to be allowed entry.

But it stayed silent on the other side of the door.

Patton frowned and knocked harder, the noise of his knuckles hitting the wood echoed around.

"Logan? May I come in, please?"

There still wasn't an answer and Patton grew even more worried. He tried the door only to find it locked. He strained his ears and could hear some soft sounds of something he couldn't quite place.

So Logan was definitely inside.

"Logan?!" Patton repeated louder, bordering on panic now. "If you don't answer me then I'm coming in!" When he once again was meet with deafening silence, he set aside the soup and rammed his shoulder against the door. It wouldn't budge but Patton's shoulder was aching.

He winced and rubbed it while he went to get Roman. He found him curled up with Virgil on the couch, doing each other's nails as some disney movie he didn't recognize played in the background.

"Roman?"

Two pairs of eyes snapped up at him. "Logan locked himself in his room and doesn't answer. I'm really worried something happened."

Roman's eyebrow furrowed. "Pattycake, I'm sure if anyone can get him out then it's you, so what-"

"I want you to break down his door."

Slowly a large grin grew on Roman's face and he jumped up. "Hell yeah!"

At Virgil's shocked judging face he quickly calmed himself. "Look, I know, we're all worried for Logan but do you know how long I waited for our wonderful little sunshine to ask me that!" He grabbed Patton by the hand and twirled him around a little before reluctantly setting him back down.

The little group promptly marched upstairs, lead by Roman. Once in front of the door, Roman pounded his fist against it and yelled: "Logan, step away from the door! We're coming in!"

He took a few steps back and then, with a battle cry, ran at the door at full speed, using his whole body as a battering ram. The door gave way with a dry crack, sending Roman tumbling to the floor along with the now splintered wood.

The room in front of them was pitch black. Virgil carefully stepped around the wood and helped Roman to his feet again. Patton in the meanwhile hit the light switch next to the door. The lightbulb over the door flickered to life and illuminated what once had been Logan's room. Now it looked like the inside of a trashcan that got caught in a tornado. Papers were strewn everywhere, most of them crumbled and stained.

Amid the chaos, Logan sat slumped over at his desk, clothes wrinkled and dirty. The laptop screen in front of him was black, the battery long run out. Regardless his fingers hovered over the keyboard, twitching and still trying to hit the keys. He didn't react when the light turned on.

"Logan?" Virgil carefully took a step forward and gently touched him at the shoulder, turning him around in his chair.

The three let out various noises of shook at the sight of the logical side. His eyes were bloodshot and stared blankly ahead. Just over his forehead, several patches of hair were missing were Logans must have pulled them out. His face was pale and sweaty and he was muttering under his breath.

His arms stayed in the exact same position as if he was still typing on a keyboard.

Virgil regained his composure the fastest and slowly crouched down in front of Logan. He reached out and cupped his face in his hands. "L, dear? What happened? Please tell me how we can help."

Virgil received no answer but Logan leaned almost unnoticeably into the touch. His mumbles stopped for a moment and his eyes slipped closed before his head suddenly snapped up again and he frantically searched for his laptop, hitting the keyboard like a man possessed even though it was obvious that he could barely move his arms.

Virgil helplessly looked back at the others.

Roman shared a look with Patton as well before Patton walked behind Logan and loosely wrapped his arm around him. Patton opened his mouth to speak but upon touching Logan's forehead, he frowned. "Guys, he's freezing cold."

Virgil startled in alarm. "We need to warm him up, who knows how long he's been like this! What if he's developing hypothermia or what if he already has! He needs fluids, a warm bath- wait is that ok if he's freezing, he won't go into shock right?!"

He only paused when Roman grabbed his hands. "Deep breaths, stormcloud. We're here now and we'll figure it out on the way, okay? I think a bath is a good idea, we can use my tub. I think it's been a while since he had one..."

Virgil nodded. "I'll get it ready." With a last glance, he basically fled out of the room.

Meanwhile, Patton tried to ease Logan away from his desk without upsetting him too much. "Why don't we leave this alone for a bit, sweetheart? Just a few seconds, okay? You already did so much, Lo-Lo, it's okay now, I promise."

He carefully lifted Logan out of his chair despite his weak protests, swooning under his weight.

"Roman, a little help?"

Roman spurred into action. "Yeah, sure, let me-" He lifted Logan in a princess carry and had to hold back the tears when he felt just how light the other side was.

As soon as Logan was pressed against his chest, Logan nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck and his voice, even though muffled by Roman's shirt, became a bit more clear and louder. Maybe it was only because his muscles relaxed at the warmth but Roman would like to think it was because he felt safe in Roman's arms.

Logan deeply inhaled Roman's scent and let out a sigh. "Smell nice... good...."

Even through his worry, Roman send a smile down to one of the most important people for him in his arms.

Logan buried his face deeper in Roman's shirt, distantly taking note of his heartbeat. "Perfect..."

Patton chuckled beside them. "I see you got that covered. I'll go and see how Virgil's doing." He hurried down the corridor, into Roman's room.

Roman nodded in acknowledgment, slowly starting to walk himself. "Mind repeating that, starlight?"

Logan grumbled a bit but still slurred out a few words: "Need to be perfect 'n work harder."

Roman gently hushed him. "No, deary, no. You're doing so good, the best. Why do you have to be perfect? That's impossible, even for you."

Logan whined against his chest and said something Roman would never forget, no matter how long he lived. "Want you to love me... Am not enough..."

Roman could feel his heartbreak, could feel it shattering in his chest and each little piece plunging into his flesh, sending sparks of pain through him. "No, Logan, my little scientist, no! We love you so much, all of us. And if I have to prove it to every single day, then I'll do so gladly."

Roman made his way to his own bathroom as quick as he could without jostling Logan. He had been hurt enough already and Roman vowed to himself that no matter what, no matter the cost, he'll never let Logan hurt himself like this again.

In the bathroom, they're greeted by Patton combing through Virgil's hair while hugging him close.

Both of them look up when Roman walked in. He glanced between the bubble bath Virgil prepared and Logan. "Uh, how do we do this?"

Virgil wiped the tear traces off his face and stepped closer, speaking softly to Logan to not startle him. "Hey, L. We're gonna get in the bath, okay? But we need to get your clothes off for that, is that alright?"

Logan weakly reached out for Virgil and Roman immediately complied, setting Logan carefully to his feet who clung to Virgil's hoodie instantly. Virgil quickly wrapped his arms around him to support his weight.

"Soft..." Logan mumbled while his fingers weakly twitched in the fabric folds.

"Well, I'm glad you like my hoodie," Virgil said as he carefully pulled away Logan's tie and got his shirt off.

"Noooo," Logan whined, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, "not hoodie, you. Soft and good, always so good... too good for me."

Virgil's gaze softened and Patton let out a choked sob. Virgil ran his hand slowly through Logan's greasy hair, smothering it back, away from his clammy forehead. "Never, love. You're always there for us, what would we do without you?"

Logan's eyes slipped closed as he whispered something that sounded like a protest and his legs buckled under him. Virgil quickly tightened his grip to keep him upright.

Patton put a hand on his shoulder. He still held back his tears. "I think, it's best when we talk about it in the morning. Bath time, now, Logibear."

Together they got rid of the rest of Logan's clothes and carefully maneuvered him into the tub.

Logan let out little moans as the warm water relaxed his muscles and Patton rinsed out his hair. The rest of the bath passed in silence. Just before the water could grow cold, a bit of color had returned to his face. They got him out and wrapped him in a fluffy towel and Logan's favorite periodic table print pajamas.

Roman carried him to his big canopy bed that would be able to fit them all in. There was no way in hell any of them would let Logan sleep alone tonight.

Logan himself was barely conscious right now, eyes barely open, body relaxed and pliant in Roman's arms. Roman gently placed him in the pillows and Patton immediately wrapped him in extra fluffy blankets, fresh out of the dryer.

Roman got into bed as well, pulling Logan close, so that his chest was pressed against his own.

Virgil sat down on Logan's other side and took one of his wrists into his hands. He barely bent it and Logan let out a sharp, pained yelp. Roman immediately soothed him, rubbing circles into his back.

"He probably has carpal tunnel syndrome," Virgil whispered to Patton. He started to gently massage his wrists, forearm, and hand, earning little relieved sighs from the other as Logan's eyes slowly slipped completely shut. When he got to the other wrists, he let out slow, even breaths, soundly asleep.

Virgil reached out and took the casts Patton had conjured in the meantime and carefully attached them around both wrists, just tight enough that they wouldn't cut off the blood flow but would still let the injuries heal. He adjusted the blankets and laid down next to Logan. Patton followed shortly, hugging Virgil from behind. They all fell asleep to the soft thumbing of Logan's heartbeat.

Logan woke early in the morning two days after the incident. He stared up at the ceiling and tried to make sense of why he wasn't looking at fading glow stars but red silk curtains. His memory was fuzzy and lacked large bits. He remembered working until he suddenly was not and felt cold and stiff and alone. Until suddenly he was not. He remembered warmth, and kind voices even though he couldn't remember what they had said.

Now his throat felt sore and his wrists were burning as if he had dunked them into acid. He also didn't remember putting casts on. Slowly he started to suspect what happened. The others must have found him on one of his burnout sessions, that meant they sawLogan's heart started to race and he could feel his breath coming short. The room started spinning and he distantly heard the door opening as if standing in a tunnel. Then someone was counting a familiar breathing pattern for him and slowly but steadily the world came back into focus.

Virgil sat in front of him, concern was written on his features clear as day. "How are you feeling?"

Logan nodded and pressed his hands to his lap to hide the shaking. "I assure you, I'm fine."

Virgil raised a single eyebrow. "Yeah, I call bullshit." When Logan flinched back, his whole demeanor softened. "Look, I don't know what exactly happened or what you remember from last night, I mean you were pretty out of it. But, L, it's okay to feel shitty and we need to talk about this.

The others are waiting downstairs, we would have been here but you were asleep quite a bit- not that's that a bad thing, you clearly needed the rest, it's just-"

Virgil fell silent when Logan grabbed and squeezed his hands, as well as the casts, let him. "Vee, I know what you mean." He sighed and avoided his gaze as he continued speaking: "Can't we just forget this happened?"

Virgil squeezed back. "No, we really need to talk about it. Come on, L, time to face the music. No one will judge you, I promise."

Logan hesitantly let himself pulled out of bed. As soon as he stood, he pulled his hands back to himself. Although Virgil got a sad look on his face, he wordlessly let go.

Logan felt vulnerable in the open room and it only got worse when they walked down the hallway and down the stairs, into the common room. Upon hearing their footsteps Logan saw Roman quickly switching off the tv and sitting up ramrod straight on the couch.

Patton disappeared into the kitchen and emerged with a cup of tea. While Virgil got him seated next to Roman and squeezed himself on Logan's other side, Patton pressed the mug into his hands.

"It's good to see you up again, sweetie," he said while trying to smile convincingly.

Logan couldn't meet his eye. "Can we just get this conversation over? Virgil said you felt the need to talk about the latest events."

Patton nodded sadly. "Well, dear, can you blame us? We found you in a not so good state after you locked yourself in your room. You were freezing and not really responding to us. We're just worried for you, Lo-Lo."

Logan adjusted his glasses and self-consciously ran a hand through his, without a doubt, messy hair.

"I assure you I'm fine. Usually, I'm back to functioning properly after exactly 52 hours."

A tiny noise came from Roman and his hand twitched in his lap, aching to comfort Logan but suspecting that touch might be too much stimulation for him right now. "You mean this has happened before, moonbeam?"

Logans squirmed in his seat. "Indeed, it can happen during a particularly busy time. Usually, I catch the signs far earlier. I will be more careful next time and not inconvenience you again."

Simultaneously three different sounds of protest sounded from around him and Logan quickly found him squished in a group hug. And even though his skin was tingling from the contact, he felt strangely warm and safe.

After several minutes, Roman pulled back with wet eyes. "Darling, what in the world would make you think like this?"

Logan straightened. He had this argument with himself in his head many times after all. "I only meant to assure you that I'll be able to manage my workload again in the nearest future. So you don't have to worry about that."

"Logan, we're worried for you, not the spreadsheets and all this stuff. Because we love you."

Roman's voice choked a bit at the end.

"I don't understand. My role in Thomas' life is to take care of his schedule and the like. If I can't do that what else is left of me." Logan went quiet for a second. "What else is left there to love?"

"No!" Patton lifted his chin to look him in the eyes. Logan saw his determination burning with the intensity of a wildfire. "Logan, we love you for you. Not your role as Logic, that's only such a small part of you we adore."

Virgil nodded. "You're allowed to make mistakes, Logan. We don't want you to work yourself into the ground. We couldn't risk losing you. And if you tell us how to help-"

"No," Logan interrupted him. "I have to do this on my own."

"Why?! No seriously Logan, why?! Why do you have to this by yourself? To prove your worth or some bullshit?!" Virgil took a deep breath to calm himself. "Look, I'm sorry if this sounds harsh but it's the truth. You can accept help, it's not a weakness, believe me. We won't abandon you. I mean, what if Patton or Roman or I would come for you and ask for help? Would it bother you or make you think less of any of us? Would it make you love us less?"

Logan vehemently shook his head. "No, of course not."

"Then why is it different for you?"

Logan took a moment to think before he answered slowly, trying to wrap his head around the concept. "I suppose, it isn't?"

"Damn right, it isn't."

Roman chimed in. "You're enough, you always have been. And if we didn't make you feel like this from the very start then it's on us, not you." He pressed a light kiss onto Logan's hand. "Let us try to help, dearest?"

"It's okay to struggle, it's a learning process to get rid of old habits. Just give this a chance please?"

Patton grabbed his free hand and soothingly rubbed circles into his palm, careful to not touch the casts around his wrists.

And Logan finally decided to give it a chance, no matter how strange it seemed to him. How could he not when they all looked at him with so much hope in their puppy eyes.

They talked until late in the afternoon, Logan trusting them enough to spill everything. He told them about his troubles to complete his work, his insomnia, and his problems to get out of his bed. And they discussed possible ways to help him, strategies they could try to make life easier. But most importantly, they listened to him. For the first time in a long while, Logan truly felt heard without having to worry about hiding anything, without having to uphold his mask of perfection.

Still, Logan expected things to back to normal pretty quickly after their talk. Maybe Patton would check in on him more frequently, Virgil would spend his reading time in Logan's room and Roman would consider his schedule for group meetings with less drama, but he expected nothing too drastic. And even as a rare occurrence as it was, this time Logan was wrong.

He was skeptical when Patton insisted that Logan threw out his shrill alarm clock. He only complied because Patton promised that they would wake him up on time because once Patton promised something, it was set in stone.

He realized just how much effort they were putting in when he slowly rose from sleep instead of jumping out of his skin due to his alarm. Sleeping alone on itself was rare since he was not used to sleeping soundly but waking to Virgil massaging his wrists was heavenly. He let out a sleepish grunt and blindly buried his face in Virgil's hoodie who was still half-asleep himself.

Virgil leaned in to whisper into his ear: "Breakfast is ready, do you want some? Patton made them with Crofters. And Princey's currently torturing oranges to make juice."

Logan felt a smile grow on his face and warmth bloom in his chest. "That sounds lovely." Then he could feel the heaviness settling into his guts, pulling him down into the blankets, urging him to just stay in bed a little longer, just until he was ready which would probably be never.

Virgil rose again and pulled Logan with him, halfway into his arms.

Logan did definitely not let out a yelp because he was a very composed person who did not yelp. As he looked up into Virig's sleepy face, he found he could get used to this.

"Do you want to get ready?"

Logan shook his head. He was wearing his favorite pajamas and felt pretty comfortable and warm.

But then he thought about how his hair was probably messy and- "I mean if that's acceptable? I know I don't look-"

Strong hands cupped his face. "Hey, none of that. You look perfect. And even if you didn't, you could still come down."

Logan took deep breaths. "Then I want to go down."

He linked his with Virgil's fingers and lead him downstairs. Patton and Roman were still busy in the kitchen which emitted the sound of laughter and the absolutely delicious smell of fresh jelly and pancakes.

It became a routine after that day and even though Virgil hated the early morning hours with a passion, he would get up every day without fail to wake him with sleepy hugs, better than every clockwork could.

Logan realized just how much they actually cared when Patton first started reciting famous poets and historians to him on a bad day.

He was reassured of it every time Patton slid a note under his door when he said he wanted to work undisturbed or brought him a snack when he worked in the commons.

He knew they all did when Patton and Roman asked for his documents and proofread them, bringing them back corrected with color-coded notes.

Logan realized that they really meant what they said that day of the talk when Roman brought him a cd with ocean sounds and soothing music with a handpainted cover to help him sleep, on the same evening they had discussed his problems.

It was drilled into his consciousness every time Roman sang him a lullaby or made up a bedtime story that could have been written by Agatha Christie herself just to help him wind down after a stressful day. All Logan had to do, was lay there and relax while Patton massaged his wrists and Virgil laid on top of him, providing a soothing weight and warmth.

Logan never felt more loved as when they all had breakfast in bed on laundry day so that Logan wouldn't have to deal with the crumbs in his bed afterwards. Or when they were there for him on the really bad days, where he got nothing done and slipped into old habits, just as much as they always did.