#i really don't post enough analogical smh

[jzixuans]

late nights and tired minds

summary: Logan doesn’t work too well late at night, and when one is running on four hours of sleep, their logic falters. At least Virgil’s ready to help. (Sometime between Why Do We Get Out Of Bed In The Morning and Learning New Things About Ourselves because I started this before the new episode came out)

word count: about 1.4k

pairing: ambiguous analogical, read it as you wish

tw: lack of sleep, mild cursing, light talk of threats (but they’re the friendly kind), stress

a/n: analogical is my favourite ship so it is absolutely criminal that i haven’t done anything for them yet

~

  “I hate to break it to you, but you suck at staying up late,” Virgil drawled from Logan’s doorway. Logan gave a start, letting his pen clatter to the ground. Roman’s stack of unedited scripts shifted around on the desk, ruining his organized workspace.

  “Virgil! I didn’t notice you standing there,” he coughed, bending down to pick up his pen. When he straightened up, Virgil was standing in front of him, hands stuffed in his pockets. He had scrubbed his eyeshadow off for the night and Logan could see the tired bruises stamped under his eyes. A telltale sign of the weight that he had carried alone all those years.

  “Yeah, well, I’ve gotten pretty good at lurking in the background,” he shrugged, and Logan flinched.

  “Right, well how can I help you?” Logan asked, sitting taller in his chair. He glanced at the wall clock. “It is rather late. Perhaps another sleep aid?”

  The anxious side had started visiting Logan’s more and more during the night, whether it was because of the calm quiet of his room or Logan’s ability to clear cognitive distortions, he admittedly didn’t know.

  “You can help me by going to sleep,” Virgil said, plucking the pen from Logan’s hand. “As much as you like to think that you’re well-adapted, you cannot stay up late for shit.”

  “Can too,” Logan retorted, albeit childishly, reaching for his pen. “I’ll go to bed once I’ve finished editing this.”

  “Dude. Roman’s better at staying up late than you. God knows Pat’s done it a billion times. But I’ve seen you pass out at the dinner table after only five hours of sleep, Mr. ‘Maintain a Steady Sleep Schedule.’” Virgil rolled his eyes, giving Logan a pointed look.

  Logan sighed. He hated playing the hypocrite.

  “Virgil, I am aware that my performance lacks when I get tired, but the more I finish now, the less we’ll have to worry about in the morning.”

  Virgil knocked his fist lightly against Logan’s skull, shaking his head.

  “That’s some faulty logic that you’ve got there, Teach. It is morning right now and you are worrying about it. So call it quits for tonight and hit the sack. Thomas will thank you for it later.” He said, voice gentle but firm. Logan couldn’t help but note the stark contrast in tone since the last few times he’s tried to force Logan to go to bed. Since being accepted as one of them, Virgil’s threat count has decreased remarkably.

  “I suppose you won’t leave until you’ve ensured that I’ve gone to sleep,” Logan sighed, pushing away from his desk. The motion had him realizing just how heavy his head felt on his shoulders. He blinked, and the temptation to just leave his eyes shut nearly took him.

  “Nope,” Virgil said, popping the ‘p.’ “As the Thomas guardian, guardian of the Thomas, I’m obligated to ensure that he’s safe and healthy. And if that means knocking out his logical side for the night, then so be it.”

  At this, Logan pulled a sour face. Virgil just laughed.

  “I’m not actually gonna punch you, nerd.” He clarified. Logan shut his mouth and nodded.

  “Oh. Right. That is good to hear.”

  This must not have been the best response, however, as Virgil’s face pulled itself into a frown. But before Logan could correct his earlier statement, Virgil spoke again. Quieter, so soft that Logan had to strain to hear him.

  “You know, if something’s bothering you, it could help to talk it out,” Virgil offered. “I’m not saying that you have to, but like, I would understand. I’m Anxiety, I’ve dealt with this stuff before.”

  Logan searched his friend’s face. Not for any lies, no, he was plenty good at unearthing those himself, but for any sign of comfort. To tell him that it truly was okay to talk about this. Virgil gave him the slightest nod and Logan let out the breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong,” he admitted softly.

  Virgil shrugged. “That’s normal,” he said. It was Logan’s turn to frown.

  “Is it, though? I am Logic. I’m supposed to know.” Logan countered.

  “Are you, though?” Virgil replied in the same tone, eyebrow arched in question. Like he was challenging Logan.

  Logan opened his mouth to argue, but Virgil held up a hand.

  “Look, Logan. Humans are constantly making mistakes. And a lot of the time it’s because of faulty logic. Not that that’s anything against you, but that’s why people learn: because they don’t know.” He said. He sat down on the edge of Logan’s bed and patted the space beside him, beckoning Logan over. Logan did, and as he sat down, he felt the subtle warmth coming from the other side’s presence. He almost didn’t notice himself leaning into Virgil, ever so slightly, chasing the comfort that came with Virgil’s hoodie.

  “What’s the first thing that you do when you don’t know something?” Virgil prompted, bumping his shoulder against Logan’s.

  “Ask questions,” Logan mumbled. He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and rubbed his eyes. Maybe he could afford to let this project go for the night. No— no they— he couldn't. Not when the work was already piling up so high.

  “So?”

  “Why am I— why do I force myself to stay up late?” Logan yawned again.

  “You already know the answer to that one, don’t you,” Virgil murmured. Logan supposed he did. He didn’t see it when his head was full of grammar and plot holes, but perhaps it was Virgil’s turn to be the clear-sighted one.

  “I—” Logan took a moment to collect his thoughts. “What use am I if I cannot be productive?”

  “What use am I if I let Thomas relax for a day?” Logan felt Virgil hum beside him. “There’s a difference between productivity and forcing yourself past your limits, Teach.”

  As he spoke, Logan’s eyelids grew heavier. Sleep was inviting, but he had work that needed to get done. No, they couldn’t afford to fall behind any longer. He would not fail Thomas again.

  With that thought, Logan sat up and straightened his tie, ready to get back to work. Virgil didn’t even have to look at him to reach out and pull him back down.

  “Sit your ass down, Logan, because I will personally snap each and every single one of your pens if you don’t let Thomas rest. Consistent sleep schedule, remember? He can’t go into deep sleep if you’re still up and running.” And there was the threat count. At least it wasn’t too drastic this time.

  “I hate it when you use my own words against me,” Logan muttered. With a defeated sigh, he reached up and loosened his tie. “I suppose if I wish to be taken seriously, I must adhere to my own advice.”

  Virgil tossed Logan’s pyjamas at him, narrowly missing his face. “Damn right you will,” he grinned but sobered quickly. “Seriously, though, you don’t need to worry about us taking you seriously. We already respect you.”

  “That is comforting to hear. Thank you, Virgil,” Logan gave him what he hoped was a grateful smile. “Allow me to go brush up for the night. Then I promise that I’ll go to bed.”

  “You better,” Virgil yawned, reclining onto Logan’s star-speckled comforter. “I’ll wait here to make sure that you do.”

  Logan gave a quick nod, then ducked into his bathroom. Exactly seven minutes later, he was in his pyjamas, teeth clean and flossed, hair brushed, and face washed. When he stepped out of the bathroom, Virgil was passed out on his bed, rolled onto his side at an awkward angle. Logan chuckled to himself. Thomas’ new and improved sleep schedule had its effect on Virgil’s own late-night shenanigans.

  “Get up,” Logan whispered, tugging at the blanket underneath Virgil. “I’ll let you stay here, but you’re going to have a sore back if you sleep like this.”

  Virgil groaned and rolled over, letting Logan pull the cover back so that he could slip underneath. He kept his back to Logan, giving him his space. Logan didn’t know why the notion hurt more than it should.

  “Er. Virgil?”

  “Mm?”

  “If you— If you wanted, that is, uh, there is no need to keep your distance. We are family, after all,” Logan stammered. Virgil opened one eye to peer back at him.

  “Sure thing, nerd.”

  At least Virgil got it. It was an understood thing.