#Logan needs theraphy

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Where’s the Logic in Feeling?

Summary: Living together has been difficult. Whether it’s Remus pranking Roman 24/7, or Patton and Janus having silent standoffs in the kitchen after an argument, but all of them would rather take those little wars of attrition than the elephant in the room. Logan isn’t doing well and no one knows how to help.

A/N: This is a follow-up to several other fics starting with Little Wonders and was touched on in Rules of the Game. This fic touches on the effects of PTSD, mainly Logan almost died and he’s not doing well.

It was late at the Sides’ two-floor apartment, and the day had been relatively uneventful. Except for a small argument in the morning where both Roman and Remus argued about who got to use the bathroom first.

But at this point that had become the new routine in the morning and Virgil had taken to applying his own eye shadow in his bedroom with a mirror that had been stolen from Roman room to avoid using the same bathroom as the two bickering brothers.

Tonight Janus, Remus, Roman, and Patton were playing poker. Virgil was watching them from the couch, watching something on his phone. The cards were a Disney card set that Roman had made, the chips matched the fairytale theme of the cards.

Janus smiled as he pushed all his chips in.

“There’s no way,” Roman spat at the partially-serpentine Side, clutching his cards a bit too tightly. “You’re not winning another game.”

“I have full confidence in my cards,” Janus smiled as Remus pushed all of his remaining chips in with an overeager grin on his face.

“I fold,” Patton sighed, tossing his cards down. “My cards are terrible this round.”

“There’s no way you have better cards than me,” Roman decided competitively, pushing his chips in, and throwing down his cards which were an ace and a jack. “Two of a kind, there.”

Remus held up his two cards which were a six and a nine respectively. “I think I’ve done pretty nice for myself.”

“Remus, sweetheart,” Janus reminded gently. “Poker isn’t won with memes.”

“Well it should be,” Remus corrected firmly.

“Show me the cards, you filthy snake,” Roman demanded, his voice starting to get louder.

“Now, kiddo, we shouldn’t call other people names,” Patton reminded.

Janus and Roman ignored him, and he tossed down a king and a queen. “Royal flush.”

“What?!” Roman shouted angrily.

“That means I win,” Janus smiled, sprouting his other arms and started to pull the chips towards him.

“You dirty, rotten scoundrel!” Roman shouted, grabbing for the chips as well. “You cheated!”

“Kiddo, keep your voice down,” Patton tried to quiet him, glancing towards the stairs.

Janus scoffed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m an angel.”

“A kinky angel,” Remus leaned in.

Deceit pushed him away with one of his arms.

“Sweet Frank Iero,” Virgil grumbled, “it’s like living in the apartment again.”

There was a distinct slamming of a door from upstairs, everyone downstairs froze, and after a couple seconds Logan came down. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and in his pajamas instead of his typical button up shirt and tie that he wore in his down time.

“Lo, did I wake you up?” Roman looked especially apologetic.

At first Logan pointedly ignored him, opening up the fridge to grab some Crofters and a spoon, “No, I was already up.”

Janus winced at the lie, but didn’t call Logan out on it. They’d all been woken up at one point or another by Logan screaming himself awake in the middle of the night.

Quietly, Logan walked back up the stairs, already opening the jar back up and just spooning jam into his mouth.

Roman jumped over the table, almost stepping on Remus’s kidney, the rest of the argument with Janus forgotten as Roman scrambled to follow Logan, making sure he made noise so that the logical Side knew that Roman was following him.

Logan walked into their bedroom, closing the door behind him. Roman stood outside, unsure how to help Logan. Declarations of love, poetic ballads, and an always faithful sword couldn’t really protect from the thoughts in your own head.

Logan was usually the person to help people cope with their problems, so Roman found himself at a complete loss.

Taking a deep breath, Roman knocked on the door lightly before walking in. “Lolo?”

He opened the door to find Logan at his desk again, an old WWI era camera sitting on Logan’s desk. It was the same camera that Joan had brought into their first apartment and Thomas had been violently split apart into his Sides. The pink mustache sprayed on it was still visible.

“Hey, brainiac, I see you dusted out that old relic,” Roman tried to cheer him up.

“I was able to do some minor research on this object while I was undercover,” Logan commented, and Roman walked over to sit on the bed, tossing Patton’s old cardigan into their hamper. “Apparently Wil was trying to get rid of some objects without Dark’s notice, and it exchanged hands for a bit until it got into Joan’s possession.”

“So why didn’t it activate sooner?” Roman asked.

“For all we know it might have, but I have no records of a severe reaction like Thomas’s,” Logan answered. “However my attempts to replicate the incident have resulted in failure.”

“Why would you want that? Roman asked, confused.

“There is too much I don’t understand about the effects,” Logan answered. “How does the object work? What caused it to activate? Why did it split us into pieces? All I know about the camera is that Wilford sold it to avoid Dark finding out about a lover he was seeing at the time, it didn’t work and I don’t even know if giving it back to Dark and having someone ask would just answer my questions faster.”

“Well it probably doesn’t matter,” Roman decided, Logan sighed and gave him a drained, defeated look on his face. “Even if understanding it could reverse it, fusion already does the trick.”

Logan seemed to get frustrated, “That answers even fewer of my questions. How can we fuse in the first place? Why fusion in particular and not literally anything else? I am Thomas’s logic but yet I feel things. I feel joy, and anger . . .”

The Side trailed off a bit, clearly frustrated, “I feel things, and I don’t like it.”

“Isn’t that why being human is all about?” Roman proclaimed proudly. “Hearing, feeling, experiencing. That’s life!”

“I just!” Logan started loudly before his hands flew to his eyes. He took off his glasses. “I am supposed to be Thomas’s logic, but emotions are such metaphorically sticky and confusing things. But I am human now, I feel and hunger, and want things. It confuses me, and I don’t know how to process it anymore.”

Roman frowned, “If only your demons were so easy to vanquish, my dear. My sword would draw first blood.”

“I’ve been asking Dr. Iplier for assistance,” Logan admitted, cleaning his glasses. “I am, very clearly, out of my area of expertise when it comes to my own emotional state. But finding an impartial psychologist or a therapist is challenging, especially one who will not be at risk of Dark finding them and getting information out of them through theft or bribery.”

“I could grab Patton and you could talk to Emile,” Roman offered.

Logan chuckled a bit, putting his glasses back on, “I appreciate your willingness to help, but it would not be ethical for Emile to treat me, he would be considered family. Besides, Emile is not an actually licensed therapist.”

“Something we should have fixed years ago,” Roman reminded.

“I barely had the time to finish Thomas’s schooling,” Logic reminded. “Switching majors so late would have been an ill-thought through decision on my part.”

“Sorry I woke you up, I know you need the sleep,” Roman apologized again.

“I would have woken up at some other point in the night,” Logan dismissed, and that only made Roman feel worse.

“I hope this therapist works out for you,” Roman told him.

“In time,” Logan sighed. “The wound has healed and it’s now all in the mind, and my mind is being far from logical.”

“That’s not your fault,” Roman reassured, both of them turning when a knock at the door startled Logan, Patton and Virgil walked in.

“I know, I have faced viler creatures, been stabbed, shot, poisoned,” Logan sighed. Virgil sat by his feet, silently leaning his head against Logan’s leg supportively.

When Logan lowered his arm, Virgil grabbed his hand without hesitation. “I have just been telling Roman that I have plans on seeing a therapist.”

Virgil gripped Logan’s hand a bit tighter but didn’t immediately say anything.

“Gosh, if there’s anything we can do to help with that, we will,” Patton volunteered.

“It got worse?” Virgil asked Logan.

“My lack of sleep is hindering my productivity, and it’s damaging my health, exacerbating the situation,” Logan reluctantly admitted. “My research can only take me so far, I just . . . wish it probably wouldn’t involve those pesky emotions.”

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Patton told Logan. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you.”

“Trust me, I would not have wished such odds upon anyone,” Logan reassured. “Not knowing where Orange is concerns me.”

“When I find him, I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine,” Virgil promised.

Logan considered telling them more about his most recent nightmares, about the knife and the blurry darkness that he was trapped in. He’d been trying to be open about his nightmares, if only so it felt like he wasn’t trapped in his own mind. But it was the same nightmares, the distress and monotony was eating him from the inside-out. Logan felt like he was going with circles every night, his sleep broken into shorter bursts and he felt guilty for waking the others up, but knowing that it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t control his dreams . . . but knowing that didn’t make them go away. It didn’t keep him from waking up in the middle of the night.

Patton let out a surprise little gasp, startling Logan out of his spiraling thoughts. The emotional Side was already walking towards a tray that had been set about two feet from the door was a tray of steaming hot tea mugs full of tea. Each one of their personal mugs, sat on a tray in front of them. Logan could have sworn that Patton and Virgil had not come in with them.

“Oh, Roman, how thoughtful,” Patton commented as he walked over to the tray. Virgil was already eyeing the cups suspiciously.

“Yeah, no problem,” Roman answered, uncertain.

Patton was bringing the tray over and picked up his own mug, taking a sip and instantly going starry eyed. “It’s so delicious, Ro, what flavor is it?”

“Uh,” Roman walked over and grabbed his cup, “oh you know, just one I found in the cupboard, looked new.”

Virgil let go, grabbing Logan’s cup. He discreetly took a cautious whiff of the tea first, immediately discerning the ingredients and who had made it in seconds, before he took a small sip. His eyes narrowed suspiciously before he said, “It’s lavender.”

Patton made a little gasp, drinking down more of the tea, “I’ve never had it before.”

Logan frowned at Virgil as the anxious Side grabbed his own mug as well and passed Logan his own mug.

“It’s actually pretty good,” Virgil told him.

Normally Logan was inclined to believe Virgil’s non anxiety-induced claims, but he was tired, and the strange way Virgil regarded the tea had him on edge. Besides, Logan fancied himself as a pro-tea-and-coffee connoisseur and this, while he couldn’t place the smell, was not lavender. It had an earthy smell that someone had attempted to mask with lemon and peppermint. A sip told him the same, someone had taken a bitter taste and tried to bury the tea in lemon and peppermint, and a bit of sugar.

A bit more sugar than Logan preferred.

The after affects of the tea led all of them to curl up on the bed, Roman and Patton already asleep, curled up together. Logan and Virgil side-by-side, Logan felt considerably more drowsy than he had been thirty minutes ago.

“What actually was in the tea?” Logan yawned.

Virgil let out a massive, full yawn. His eyes were closed. “Dee calls it his Knockout Brew: valerian root, lemon, peppermint, and a—”

He let out another huge yawn, and curled into Logan’s side, “—spoonful of sugar, or something, yah know? Really . . . helps . . . me . . .”

Virgil trailed off, Logan not too far behind him, his tea in particular mixed with something a little extra to make it a bit stronger. They were leftovers from Virgil’s old prescription the anxious Side hadn’t taken with him when he switched teams.

The logical Side’s sleep tonight would be mercifully dreamless.

Slowly the opened door was softly pulled further open so Janus could sneak in. He started tidying up the room a bit, using his other arms to pick the cups and trays, but stopped when he saw the camera on the table.

The deceitful Side hadn’t seen the object in years, and felt the urge to smash the object against the closest hard surface for all the pain and misery it had caused. But a look at Logan sleeping soundly for once, he stopped. Janus didn’t want to chance Logan waking up. So he took the tray and left, his magic ensuring that all four of the “Light Sides” were tucked in.

Tomorrow would be another stressful day, but at least for tonight everyone would get a good night’s sleep.

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Rules of the Game Ch. 1

Chapter 1: Angling the Deck

Summary: With the deck stacked so unfavorably against Dark, he decides to even the playing field a little bit.

A/N: Briefly touches on Logan dealing with stuff that I will touch on more in future fics. Like PTSD from a previous fic.

Chapters: 1, 2

He’d snuck out dozens of times to hang out with his friends late at night, it was almost routine and if his mom or siblings knew then they didn’t talk about it.

So a young fifteen-year-old boy snuck out of his mother’s small house and walked out into the streets, hoodie pulled down although he doubted many of his father’s friends would’ve recognized him by sight.

Deeper into downtown Brighton he met up with some of his friends to engage in some of their usual antics: spray painting and generally pissing off the locals.

So he snuck into an alleyway next to a cafe where two of his friends were already working on something. They had climbed onto a fire escape to get higher

“Hey, Paddy, yah piece ‘a shite,” one of the other teens threw him a spray can. “Took yeh ages.”

“I got here, didn’t I?” Paddy walked over to the bag.

“While yer down there, can yah pass me a blue?” His friend asked.

“Only if yah catch,” Paddy smiled and tossed the can up, perfectly landing in his hand.

They started joking and laughing, until a shrill ringing echoed through the alley. A man in a dark grey suit stood at the mouth of the alley, all four kids froze where they were.

“Pádraig,” Dark smiled, an expression that. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“The hell yah want?” Paddy spat at him, looking for possible weapons or an exit.

Dark smiled at the young man, “Oh no, you have it all wrong, Mr. Brody. It’s what I can do for you.”

Chase walked into the main common area for the base. The atmosphere was tense, as if he’d just missed something. Logan was sitting with Patton in the corner of the main area, chair back against the corner of the room and a small tray table next to him with a cup of coffee. Patton was just happily talking to Logan who was leaning into him and reading a book.

Logan was always awake when Chase was up, which was a problem because Chase was a known insomniac and he often found Logan tucked away reading some book with Virgil sleeping against him or working on something with dark circles under his eyes.

He didn’t think Logan was sleeping, the Sides explained that he was having nightmares whenever someone asked, and it was hard for him to go to sleep afterward. His only hope was that he would find a method to deal with them in time.

Today looked like one of those bad afternoons, the kind where Logan didn’t talk about anything and bury his attention in a book or some project.

Marvin seemed a bit too eager to leave with Seán and Chase, all three of them in plain casual clothes, even if Marvin took forever to cast an illusion over his face to cover up the scars he’d gotten years ago. But eventually Chase got into his car with Marvin and Seán and they started driving.

Normally Chase stayed away from his ex, they’d been divorced for years, almost five years now and even before then Chase and Stacy had been having issues. Chase’s alcoholism and recklessness being chief among them. Chase was only allowed visitation to his kids if there was someone else with him. Even then Chase was sadly certain that his visits were only for his sake, not anyone else’s.

But Damien and Chase had talked about their families. Dark had been vague, but Chase hadn’t. It’d been a couple days since Damien had been unmasked as a manipulative, demonic mob boss . . . and Chase had put his family in danger by buying into the illusion.

So after a call to his ex that turned into an angry argument, he was driving over to talk in person.

Chase appreciated driving, he got to focus on something else. Halfway into their trip, uneasy tension in the car that was only kept back by random pop songs on the radio, Marvin spoke up.

“I think Logan’s got a fear ‘a knives now,” Marvin commented seriously as they drove, turning down the radio a bit. “Completely understandable, but something people should be aware ‘a so we don’t set him off.”

“Somethin’ happen?” Chase asked.

“Logan was inta the book he was reading an’ I was showin’ Ethan some of my knives, an’ my hand slipped. Thin’ hit the table an’ Logan stiffened like I’d thrown it at ‘im. Ran outta the room an’ didn’t come back fer a half an hour. When he did, it was with Patt.”

“What the fook was he doing spyin’ on Dark?” Seán demanded. “He almost died.”

“We know if he’s seein’ anybody ‘bout this?” Chase asked.

“Lo’s always kinda kept ta the Sides, I probably know more ‘bout Virgil than I do ‘bout him,” Marvin admitted. “Even if he was, I doubt he’d tell us right now.”

“Think kickin’ the shit outta Dark would help?” Seán asked, texting Stacy, warning her that they were getting closer.

“It’d make me feel better,” Marvin promised.

When they finally got to her house, Stacy was already at the front door. She glared at them as they got out of the car, “He sober?”

“Dry as one ‘a yer funnel cakes,” Marvin held up the paper. “Doc couldn’t be here ta speak fer himself.”

She took the paper which was a full drug and B.A.C test, which was the reason they’d come over at mid-day and not earlier. It was full of signatures to verify it from not just Chase and the other Septics, but Mark and Logan as well. Stacy read through it before turning to Chase, “Paddy’s out wit’ his friends, if he’s not back before yah leave there’s nothing I can do.”

“Okay,” Chase said, his mind remembering the last argument he’s gotten into with his eldest son. The thing that almost cut off even talking to his kids after the mess with Anti.

“First off, what were yah thinking?” She spat at Chase, starting to argue with him outside her house.

“I thought he was my friend,” Chase defended.

“Hey, look, he got all ‘a us, an’ who knows what other identities he was able ta get?” Seán cut in. “We all thought he was on level. We all fooked up, I was the one who told Chase ta help watch that asshole.”

“You guys don’t get ta let him off the hook either,” Stacy reminded. “This isn’t the first time he’s put his own bloody kids at risk. It was fine when it was the two of us, but yah folks weren’t here when he was drunk and blathering on ta everyone who would listen.”

“I wasn’t drunk when I was talking ta him,” Chase insisted.

“You’re not drunk now,” Stacy held up the paper. “But you’ve lied and been fucked on the job.”

“I’ve been sober for months!” Chase insisted.

“We have him tested regularly,” Marvin cut in, pulling out his phone and pulling up the record of test results that Henrik had given him access to. “The brainiacs keep a full digital record ‘a it, the only thin’ he’s got in his system is caffeine an’ nicotine. An’ you can’t blame the guy fer switchin’ one fer the other.”

“Fine,” Stacy allowed, turning to the front door. “Come in then.”

The instant they were inside, Marvin was tackled by Chase and Stacy’s two ten-year-old twins.

“Magic Man!” They cheered as they pulled on his coat.

The girl twin jumped up excitedly, two fistfuls of Marvin’s coat, “Show us a trick!”

“I wanna see a magic trick!” The boy twin repeated, pulling on the other side of his coat. Marvin smiled and summoned three small orbs of green fire and started moving them around and doing tricks with them.

He smiled at the other adults, “I’ve got the kiddos.”

“Don’t burn my house down,” Stacy ordered.

The boy’s eyes seem to glow in excitement, looking over at Marvin and the fireballs he had. “Give ‘em to me.”

“Not on yer life,” Marvin smiled at him.

“Hey Lills, hey Tee,” Chase smiled.

“Hey Daddy,” Lily smiled back at him.

“Tell Marvin ta give me the fire,” T.B demanded.

“No,” Chase already had this look of resigned exasperation as he looked at Stacy, “How do yeh manage?”

“I don’t give ‘em fire ta play wit’ and that usually works,” Stacy reminded sharply.

Marvin was left with the kids, showing them magic tricks — some with actual magic and others with just some slight of hand — as Seán and Chase went into the kitchen to talk.

The talk was a bit hostile as Chase explained the whole situation, but it calmed down after a while. They were just standing around talking. After a while they agree that Marvin would ward the house, and she’d call Chase or Seán if anything changed.

After that point, Stacy looked a bit uneasy, “So, I wasn’t gonna mention it, but yah guys seem actually serious ‘bout this.”

“We are,” Chase agreed. “I am.”

“So Paddy always sneaking off every night, and usually it’s not that big a deal since I know the boys, but he’s been coming home busted up sometimes and other times he doesn’t come back till after school the next day.”

“Yah know where he’s been goin’?” Chase asked.

“Which excuse yah want?” Stacy offered. “At this point I’ve heard ‘em all and then some. He even joked he’d joined a gang ta get me to drop the subject.”

“Has he?” Seán asked in concern. “There’s lots’a bad groups in the area.”

“I don’t know if his friends formed a gang or what, but I know it’s something dangerous because he came home with a busted finger, and said he sprained it.”

“How long has this been goin’ on?” Chase asked.

“Bout a week, I’d reckon,” Stacy admitted.

“Mind if we follow the kid fer a bit,” Seán offered. “If it’s just a bunch of kids taggin’ a wall or pushing some cars, we’ll just slap ‘em on the wrist an’ send ‘em home. If not, then we’ll see what we can do from there.”

“If yah boys are already going out,” Stacy agreed.

“Right, I’ll get Marv started,” Seán stood up. “Hey, Catboy an’ his Magic Hands, we got a job.”

When Seán walked back into the living room, Marvin had the two twins around him, one had his cape and Lily had her hand in one of his magical top hats.

“I think I got it,” Lily smiled and pulled out a very confused and angry American opossum from the hat. Marvin startled in surprise. “I got it!”

The opossum hissed and wiggled in her grip. Marvin drove and shoved the marsupial back into the hat and took it away from her. “Good job,” he smiled nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work.”

“No!” The both yelled at Marvin.

“I’ll be back, just need ta check something an’ I can do one more magic act,” Marvin promised and Chase knocked on Paddy’s door. Seán was walking around the house with Stacy to check for anything suspicious.

“So,” Marvin started as they walked into the room. “Yeh want the good news, the bad news, or the funny news?”

“Good,” Chase sighed, walking over to Paddy’s closet and quickly looking for anything out of place. Like bullet holes in one of the shirts or a strangely immaculate 1,000 dollar suit that a fifteen-year-old who ran around town at night and wrote graffiti had no reason to own . . . unless he worked for Dark.

“So Lills is definitely gonna be a powerful magician one day, if she isn’t already, she’s got way more potential than any kid I’ve seen in years,” Marvin praised confidently as Chase tried to disturb the least amount of things possible, looking under his son’s bed as Marvin continued. “I mean who summons a demon rat from a hat instead ‘a rabbit?”

“Pretty sure opossums aren’t rats,” Chase reminded.

“Hey, I didn’t go to school for biology so I could use it,” Marvin huffed. “I got it so I could pervert the laws ‘a nature.”

“Yeah, no need ta remind me,” Chase muttered under his breath as he stood up.

“What was that?” Marvin glared at him.

“Nothin’,” Chase told him sharply. “Kay, his room’s clean.”

“What should I use?” Marvin shrugged.

Chase reached into the laundry basket and pulled out a dark red hoodie at the bottom of, tossing it to the magician. Then Chase grabbed the entire laundry basket and dragged out of the room and towards the laundry room. “So what’s the bad news?”

“Anti wasn’t blowing smoke up yer ass, she’s powerful an’ she needs direction,” Marvin said.

“No,” Chase denied, setting the basket down a little harder than necessary. “Even if it was up ta me, Stacy is gonna say no.”

“It’s either us or the villains,” Marvin reminded. “An’ I’m sick and tired of them having a stranglehold over this whole place. We made a huge strike against Dark, an’ now we gotta focus on Anti.”

Chase wiped his hands down his face, “Just, ask Stacy, I can’t say yes or no either way.”

“Fine,” Marvin snapped. “She’ll say no, but fine.”

“What was the funny news?” Chase tried to change the conversation.

“Tee’s got a new nickname,” Marvin answered. “Paddy an’ his friends gave it ta him.”

Chase held his breath a little bit, “What is it?”

“Toss Boy,” Marvin smiled.

“Why—” Chase started, but he paused. “Yah know, it’s not as bad as the last one.”

“Paddy competes with Roman fer givin’ the best nicknames,” Marvin smiled.

The three Septics eventually had to leave, Paddy still gone and Stacy agreeing to call if he showed back up while Marvin and the two other two Septics went back to the base with Chase’s son’s hoodie to start a tracking spell, Marvin more than a bit salty that Stacy had denied him taking Lily under his wing as an apprentice. But he was joking around while he worked.

“Here we go,” Marvin had Paddy’s hoodie in one had and a large needle in the other.

“We need anythin’ else?” Seán was already back in his Jackieboy costume.

“An apprentice,” Marvin reminded.

“No,” Chase told as Chase and Jackie began following the magician out into the city to find Paddy.

Marvin huffed and they started following Paddy’s trail.