Work Text:
It was a normal day.
Logan had gone through everything like he normally did, he woke up, he ate breakfast, he showered and prepared for the day, and he worked a little bit until Thomas needed help with a problem he had, then he gave his two cents, Thomas found a way to resolve it, and Logan went back to his work, and in a couple of hours he would eat lunch, at 1:00 pm, just like always.
It was a normal day.
Just as normal as any other day.
Which is why he couldn’t understand why it wasn’t.
It was a normal day, in every possible sense of the word, it was routine, there was no big or substantial change, everything was the same— but it wasn’t. His chest felt tight, his head felt foggy, and his arms felt heavy.
Just keeping his eyes open was absolutely exhausting.
And it wasn’t like he'd fallen asleep late or had woken up too early; he had gotten a good mostly-uninterrupted night’s sleep just like any other night, he had woken up the same time as always, he had gotten nine hours of sleep and everything was normal.
Everything was routine, perfect.
But everything felt so wrong.
And he couldn’t do anything about it,
And the most terrifying thing about that was he didn’t even care about it.
Even when he tried to focus on it, or focus on something happier, he just didn't care, his head felt clouded and he felt numb.
The only emotion he could really make out was that he was scared.
and everything felt almost gray, duller.
That was the only way to describe it.
And he was so tired, but it was the tired that he knew no sleep nor rest would help, he just had to be and exist and—
He felt so heavy, like he was being weighed down.
And he didn’t know what to do.
He knew he could probably work through it, try to ignore it and focus on the stuff in front of him, or try to work on other projects.
But just the idea was so unappetizing that it was nauseating.
Logan wanted everything to be fine, normal, but he felt so completely and utterly bad.
All of a sudden he understood Virgil’s desire to just lay on the couch listlessly and scroll through his phone on whatever app it was he was on, until he finally had enough energy to simply exist.
And the worst part for him was he couldn’t even attach a word to this awful lethargic feeling, it was so bad and he didn’t even know what it was, and he couldn’t find out, partially because he just didn’t have any excess motivation to do anything, let alone to research something as unimportant as a word, but also because when he eventually did find out the word he knew it would feel like ash in his mouth.
Everything was bad, normal but not normal, dull , and he both longed for and refused to even have a word for it.
He hated this.