#overworking tw

@whumptober 2024: Day 29 - Burnout + "Who said you could rest?"

Warning for Arguments, physical violence, physical abuse, verbal abuse, physical fights, exhaustion, fainting, overworking

Looking After the Nerd

Warnings: Overworking

Sometimes, Logan appreciated the quiet of the mindscape when the others were busy. Sometimes…it made him suspicious.

Today, appeared to be a suspicion day.

As far as Logan’s schedule was concerned, there was nothing planned. Roman wasn’t due in the imagination, Patton didn’t need to focus on any moral dilemmas and since no major decisions were being made, Virgil could relax.

So…why was it so quiet in the mindscape?

He had attempted to ignore it most of the day, the scurry of Virgil’s feet as he padded to some unknown location, Patton’s barely stifled giggles, Roman half tripping down the stairs…

wow this is new; me writing? not v common is it lmao. also i suck at titles i’m sorry oop-

Ship(s): Analogical

Word Count: 1,734

TW: overworking, passing out, cursing, slight mention of hunger, crying, sickness

A/N: alright, let’s do this

Just one more page. Then Logan would go to sleep. One more page.

One more page.

The problem with that statement?

He had been saying “one more page” for the past two hours. He counted.

But it was fine; he was fine. He was fine with working all day and night; it was his job. If Logan didn’t do it, who would?

So he would keep working.

——————

Logan couldn’t keep working. Logan couldn’t keep staying up until 3 AM working on scripts and storyboards for Thomas. It wasn’t healthy.

He did anyway.

Logan felt the small pang of hunger course through his stomach and ignored it. I’ll go eat once this page is done. One page became two. Then three, then four, then six, then ten. Ten minutes became twenty, became forty, became fifty, up until Logan was used to that pang of hunger and didn’t pay it any mind.

Was he tired? Of course He wasn’t tired. He could work all night— and he should work all night. After all, if he didn’t do it, who would?

The others wouldn’t miss him anyway.

——————

The others missed Logan.

Virgil could tell by the way Patton’s shoulders slumped when he finally realized that Logan wasn’t coming downstairs to get breakfast, and then put his food in the fridge for Logan to get when he did come down.

Virgil could tell by the way Roman was much quieter than he usually was, not dancing around as much and not belting out Broadway and Disney songs as often as he used to. When questioned about it, he’d smile softly at the other person and say, “It’s not as much dancing and yelling when there’s no one to stop you and no one to watch you.”

Virgil could tell by the way that he himself was much more secluded, keeping his headphones on most of the time, some days not coming out of his room at all. He was tense all the time now; Logan wasn’t there to offer his usual methods of comfort, which were much different from Roman’s or Patton’s. Logan was more quiet than the other two, and therefore understood how to handle Virgil well when he was feeling overwhelmed or overstimulated. He would read a book to him or play a movie for him or talk to him about astronomy or even just sit there with him in silence, knowing that sometimes Virgil just needed someone to sit with him quietly.

“Logan?” Virgil paused, and when the only answer he received was silence, he continued. “I know you’re in there. And I’m gonna come in whether you let me in or not.” More silence. Virgil’s anxiety started kicking in and his throat started closing up a bit. It was too quiet. Logan was never that quiet, even when he wanted to be. “I’m coming in, Lo,” said Virgil, surprised that the door was unlocked and walked in.

It was freezing in here.

Then Virgil’s gaze landed on Logan. He was hunched over—already a bad sign—his desk, and Virgil could hear the soft writing of a pen on paper. There was a blanket pulled tightly around his shoulders, and…. there were papers. Papers thrown all around the desk, crumbled papers overflowing from the trash, as if in a movie.

He slowly walked closer to Logan, his jacket still pulled tight around him to keep him warm. “Lo…?” Virgil said warily, right behind him now. Logan jumped suddenly, seeming to finally hear him, and fell off his chair, his blanket having fallen off too. “Logan…”

This was not good. Logan was looking up at Virgil, his eyes wide and red and puffy, as if he had been crying, his face bright red and his nose resembling Rudolph’s. He was trembling from the cold, which would make sense since he didn’t have his blanket anymore, but the more concerning thing was… Logan was sweating. His hair was wet and stuck to his face, and Logan finally seemed to notice this and quickly wiped it off with his hand, pushing his hair back. “Virgil.”

“Lo, what…?”

“Virgil, I-“ Logan blinked up at him and then, instead of continuing his statement, started trying to get up.

“Oh-” Virgil quickly reacted and reached down, grabbing Logan’s hand and pulling him up before jumping back and saying, “Dude, L- your- your hand—”

Logan’s hands were freezing. Even colder than Virgil’s own hands, and his hands were pretty freaking cold.

“I-I must get back to my… my work, Virgil.” Logan turned to go back to his desk and got to the edge before swaying dangerously and grabbing onto the desk for stability.

Virgil’s protective reflexes kicked in and he jumped forward, grabbing Logan’s waist to stabilize him. “Lo, stop.”

“No, I- I have to- to do… this,” mumbled Logan, his words now slurring together slightly as he gripped the table harder, his knuckles white from holding it so tightly.

“L—”

“I have to— finish this—”

“Logan—”

“I—” Logan turned to face Virgil and whispered, “I can’t,” before taking a step forward and promptly falling into Virgil’s arms.

“Logan!” exclaimed Virgil as he caught him. Logan was slumped in his arms, sagging against him, his breathing labored and his skin now burning hot to the touch. Virgil lifted him slightly and looked at his face to see if he was awake, finding that Logan had passed out and was unconscious in Virgil’s arms.

——————

It was dark, and it was cold, and Logan didn’t want anything more than to leave and go back to his work; working was safe. No one could judge you—not until later, anyway—and you couldn’t hurt anyone and it couldn’t hurt you. It was perfect.

This was not perfect.

Logan didn’t like this feeling, the feeling of dread he was getting from… wherever he was. The feeling of loneliness, the feeling of anxiety, the feeling of fear.

He was terrified.

He didn’t know where he was, or what happened to get him here, but he did know that he was absolutely positively terrified and that he wanted to leave now.

And then there was a voice. A voice that, although it sounded familiar, he couldn’t put a finger on who it was. A voice that broke through the fear and calmed Logan, soothing him.

A voice that Logan wanted to listen to forever and ever and ever because if this was what it would feel like every time they spoke, Logan never wanted to hear anything else but their voice.

And when the voice told him that it was okay, that he was okay, that he could relax and that it was all going to be okay, Logan sighed softly in content and slept.

——————

“Hey, L,” said Virgil softly, brushing hair gently out of the sleeping facet’s face. “It’s Virgil, again.” He swallowed slowly and continued. “Uhm… it’s been four days now. Patton, of course, is still really worried; he won’t stop baking no matter what we try, and insists that he has to make all your favorites for when you wake up. We aren’t gonna tell him, but he’s made all your favorites four times already.” Virgil chuckled quietly.

“Roman is… quiet. Reserved. He keeps coming up with video ideas and running downstairs yelling ‘Logan! Logan, I have an idea,’” Virgil chuckled again at his impersonation of Roman before a small frown returned to his face. “And then he realizes that you’re not down there and he gets this look on his face and just goes back upstairs.

“I’m not very sure you want to hear about me,” said Virgil with a small smile on his face, “so I won’t talk about me.” The smile dropped and Virgil sighed, his shoulders slumping as he grabbed Logan’s hand. “We miss you, L. I miss you. No matter what you think, we love you, and we want you to be okay. So, please… not even for me, or even Roman, just… for Patton’s sake, please… wake up soon, okay?” And then Virgil closed his eyes, wished to any deity that was out there as hard as he possibly could, and gently pressed his lips against Logan’s forehead.

——————

“Six days, Logan. Six. It’s hell without you here,” said Virgil honestly, his voice quiet and rough, his eyes red from crying. He knew, logically, that Logan would wake up; he was one of Thomas’s main sides, he had to.

Did he?

“I just… I really miss you, Lo,” whispered Virgil before pressing his forehead to Logan’s hand. squeezing his eyes shut as more tears began to come and his voice started cracking. “Just- please, Logan, please tell me you’re okay.” Virgil completely broke down and his head fell against Logan’s chest, his hands gripping Logan’s tightly as he sobbed. He had only ever cried like this when he was alone; he’d never let the other two know that he was this sad, although he knew that they probably had figured it out.

“Are you crying?”

Virgil jumped up and looked at Logan’s face, his eyeshadow running down his cheeks and his cheeks bright and his nose red. He opened his mouth but no sound came out, and he just stared at Logan.

“Why are you crying? Is everything alright?”

“Logan,” whispered Virgil before throwing his arms around him. “God, you dumbass, I— you—”

Logan grunted softly when Virgil hugged him but smiled a little and hugged him back. “I know. I’m sorry—”

“Never do that to me again, you piece of shit,” said Virgil, his voice muffled by Logan’s shirt as he buried his face into his shoulder.

@whumptober Day 9: Tossing and Turning