Chapter Text
Logan has not talked to Janus.
Nor does he plan to, if he’s honest. Talking about his shortcomings (and these emotions are indeed shortcomings) to anyone, even Janus, feels like pulling figurative teeth.
He is supposed to be better than this. He has to be better than this.
Logan sits in his room, laptop open on something important looking so he could appear busy if intruded upon by Patton or Virgil.
Fingernails, bitten and discarded, litter his usually pristine desk. Notebook pages lay almost aesthetically across the floor, scribbled on and tossed moments later.
Logan has not left his room much at all this week.
If anyone asked, Logan was just stressed and taking some “mental health” days. While the thought of telling anyone that he was struggling with deadlines would surely be humiliating, it was better than admitting that Logan was avoiding Janus.
…
He was avoiding Remus, too, of course.
Not that Logan particularly minded either of their company.
Janus is quite a remarkable debate partner (Logan demanded a rematch after the completely unfair courtroom scenario), quick-witted and constantly keeping Logan up-to-date with his new favorite logical fallacies. They also both appreciate good wine and gossip, though their tastes in both differ slightly. Janus enjoys light bodied wines and reality TV style gossip, while Logan prefers Cabernet Sauvignon and ethical dramas. If asked, Logan might admit he enjoys Janus’ company possibly even more than Virgil’s nowadays.
Remus, well. Logan isn’t affected by his antics in the same way the other Sides are. The blood, gore, and macabre nature of his conversation makes him difficult to handle at their best times. Logan, however, doesn’t mind blood, gore, and macabre conversation, as long as it is accurate to real life anatomy and physics.
Logan’s teachings even seemed to have paid off a few times: Once, in a brotherly duel, Remus took a section of Roman’s brain out with his own sword. It was quite impressive, all things considered. Logan knew that sword hadn’t been sharpened in months.
Remus, uncharacteristically red-hued from the bloodshed, proudly presented the viscera to Logan, looking somewhat like a child with an art project.
“Ay, Wise Crack, I finally found the Broccoli’s area… or whatever! That royal prick won’t be able to talk for a WEEK!”
If Logan were the type to laugh at this scene, he might’ve burst a figurative seam giggling.
Instead, he barely looked up from his neuroscience-related book, and gave the smallest smile to Remus, which seemed to propel the intrusive side into a frenzy of activity that finally got Patton’s attention from the other side of the mind, and got Remus “grounded” for the rest of the day. Perhaps most impressively, Remus served his sentence all day with little complaint, and even returned Roman’s speech center before it healed on its own.
It is well known that Patton, Roman, and Virgil all have their reasons for not liking the other sides. Patton believes that their mere existence is proof that Thomas is a “bad” person, Roman feels cheated and manipulated every time he is forced to interact with either of them, and Virgil’s rocky history with the two makes him uneasy around his old companions.
Logan cannot help but notice that all of these justifications are rooted in feelings. Emotions. Fickle, unreliable things. It has been proven, both in wider studies, and in Thomas’ personal case, that accepting what Janus and Remus represent is crucial to bettering oneself.
...
So, the avoidance is not due to Logan disliking their company or roles in the mind.
He’s avoiding them because they will not stand for his personal contradictions. They will want to pry, and maybe even listen, which is unacceptable.
Remus continuously pushes Logan to “open up.” To stop taking himself and everyone else so seriously. Remus must have realized that it’s the only way to get to Logan nowadays. Threatening his purpose as a Side has done more damage than a throwing star ever could.
“God, L-word, don’t you ever relax? All you do is talk about serious shit. Taxes and paperwork and– yup, I’m already falling asleep. If you need help unwinding, I know some GREAT stretches we could try~!”
Usually the remarks were of equal or greater obscenity, and they were near-constant streams of thought.
At least once a day, by Logan’s count, Remus had made some comment, some god forsaken utterance that drove Logan to distorted, irrational, wrong thinking.
Him? Logan? Less serious?
The idea is sickening. To lower his professional façade, even momentarily, was the first step on the path to disaster. Thomas is already barely functioning as is, there is so much to do and not enough time in his waking hours to do it. Even if– miraculously– there was time, Thomas would rather choose to sit on his phone, “doomscroll,” or make content that might not be able to pay the bills. His sleep schedule was still absolutely abysmal, and nothing Logan could say or do would help.
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
And this stunt? Thinking he would be better as someone else?
Well, not someone else, he supposes.
Still him. Just different.
Better.
The thought is given space and ignored, an imagined wave on Logan’s conscious beach.
The trick worked, a resetting of the autonomous nervous system that Thomas learned when researching a scrapped Cartoon Therapy video. Maybe his videos did have upsides after all.
Logan’s thoughts were still racing, a metaphorical sportscar driving straight into oncoming neurological traffic.
He is acting completely absurd.
Logan Sanders has many defining characteristics. Stubbornness, intelligence, a need to be correct in any given circumstance, et cetera.
Naivety is not one of those traits. Logan is not stupid. He knows he’s in denial. In fact, he knows exactly what he’s denying to himself.
The dismissal is deemed necessary, by Logan’s standards. The thoughts he’s been having are ridiculous, silly, irrational outbursts at best and a sign of cognitive impairment at worst.
…
Logan Sanders is not a woman.
...
He shook his head, as if to physically rattle the thought from his mind. As if thinking the denial in words was enough to make the statement untrue.
Pathetic.
His focus turns to his room.
It’s filthy. How long has it been since someone checked up on him?
Logan realizes he doesn’t particularly care. No one needs to see him like this.
…
A knock sounds on Logan’s door.
Short, clean, efficient.
Janus.