Knife Ice Cream

by Midniteblue

Summary:

Virgil catches Roman eating ice cream with a steak knife and somehow, they have an emotional conversation

Notes:

Have I made my Big Brother agenda clear yet?

Chapter 1: Cookie Dough

“Roman!” Virgil snapped from the stairs.

The prince startled and froze. Through the dim light he looked up from where he was in the kitchen, broad arms wrapped around a freezing tub of ice cream.

It had been largely quiet before, with only the muted ticking of a wall clock and the humming of the fridge.

Roman squinted through the hazy kitchen light, as the brightest thing in the area was Roman’s stunning personality and the electronic numbers on the oven clock.

“Oh. Hey there Virge. You’re up late, huh?” Roman said, scratching the back of his neck. He was sitting on the counter, at 4:30am, with a large tub of cookie dough ice cream that he was eating from directly, because he had no shame.

Virgil tromped down the stairs and huffed, “What do you think you’re doing with that?” he demanded.

Roman blinked at his ice cream. “Uh, eating too much sugar super late at night?”

“With that?” Virgil insisted hotly, pointing at his utensil.

Roman chuckled sheepishly. “Oh! Yeah, I couldn’t find a clean spoon, cause it’s my day to do the dishes and I may or may not have gotten distracted earlier.”

“So, you’re eating with a steak knife?!” Virgil said, his voice beginning to double.

“I’m adapting.” Roman preened as he scooped another bite of ice cream onto his knife.

Virgil leapt forward and snatched the knife from Roman’s grip. The ice cream plopped onto Roman’s lap and he promptly shrieked in response.

“Ahh! Virgil! It’s freezing! What was-”

 “You couldn’t have washed just one?” Virgil growled.

“Hey don’t get mad at me!” Roman protested, “Give it back! You don’t even like this flavor!”

“I don’t care about the ice cream. I care about you using a knife as a spoon!” Anxiety said as he stamped his foot.

“It’s not a big deal!”

Virgil’s horrified scoff said otherwise. He stormed over to the sink to pile the knife atop of the mound of unwashed dishes. “What if you cut open the inside of your mouth!” he said as he forcibly turned on the water.

“I wasn’t!”

“You nearly choke on regular spoons, Roman. You would absolutely cut your mouth open if left with it long enough.” Virgil scolded as he pulled on a rubber glove to wash the knife.

Roman threw his back and groaned loudly.

“Oh don’t even.” Virgil huffed as he lathered a sponge with soap. “Don’t get all dramatic because I stopped you from bleeding out through your mouth.”

“That wasn’t going to happen!” Roman insisted as he tore off a paper towel from its roll. He began spitefully dabbing at his pajama shirt to get the melted ice cream off.

“It absolutely was. You’re grounded from knives now.”

“You’re not my dad.” Roman complained.

“You’re lucky.” Virgil snorted. “Patton will just look all sad and disappointed in you when you screw up, I’ll hack your Spotify account, or sit on top of you.”

Roman dramatically flopped backwards onto the counter, lightly smacking his head.

“Ow!”

“Roman. If you have a concussion I am going to lose it.”

“I’m fine!”

Virgil did not take that as a convincing response. Instead, he threw down his gloves and checked for blood until Roman managed to fend him off. Reluctantly, Virgil returned to the sink.

“I can’t believe I’ve kept you alive this long. Sometimes I think I’m the only responsible one.” Virgil muttered.

“No. You’re not Logan.” Roman grumbled as he cleaned his shirt. “He’s the one who does all the silly worrying with the silly rules.”

“Logan can be just as much of a disaster as you.” Virgil rolled his eyes as he dried off the knife and moved to a plate. “He’d just lecture you about how spoons work when compared to knives. I’m the one who takes it from your mouth before you lose your tongue.”

“I’ll take Logan’s lecturing over no ice cream.” Roman huffed.

Virgil finished drying the plate and quickly plunged his arm into the now soapy water. “I’m not Logan. I’ll keep you alive in spite of you being an idiot, but I also support late night ice cream sessions.”

Roman narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but Virgil produced two clean spoons from a clean dish rag.

“I thought you didn’t like cookie dough?” Roman frowned.

Virgil snatched the tub from Roman’s grip and plunged his spoon in. “Nah, I just come get my own later so Logan can't stop me from eating half the carton.”

“Oh. Well, you better share.” The prince said as he nudged Virgil’s arm to get his own spoon in.

“Sure,” Virgil said easily, “I’ll be happy to share the ice cream.”

Roman reached for the dessert.

“On one condition,” Virgil added as he smugly pulled the container just out of reach. “You share your feelings.”

Roman’s indignant squawk brought a thin smile to Virgil’s face.

“I mean it Princey. You tell me why you’re upset enough to interrupt your beauty sleep for knife ice cream, then I’ll let you have some.”

Roman huffed again, his nose scrunched up into an angry pout. “You’re mean.”

“Maybe,” Virgil conceded with a smirk. “But effective. Unfortunately, I care about you. So, spill it.”

It took a moment for Roman to crumble at the support, but slowly, his shoulders slumped, and his pout gave way into a weary expression.

“Logan and I had a fight earlier.” Roman admitted quietly as he ran his fingers over the hem of his pajama shirt. He kept his eyes down to avoid Virgil’s gaze.

“Oh. That sucks.” Virgil said.

“Yeah. It was about something really stupid, I don’t even remember what.” The prince said glumly. “He just got really really angry over absolutely nothing. He was just super over the top, and at first, I thought it was just funny, so I kept going and he was getting all frazzled. Then, I- I think I pushed him too far, because then he snapped and started saying some stuff,” Roman trailed off.

Virgil sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What’d the nerd say this time?”

“It’s not worth quoting, but it’s probably going to keep me up for a few nights.” Roman muttered.

“I’ll knock some sense into him in the morning.” Virgil muttered. They both knew how Logan could act under enough stress, and it was never good. The things he sometimes said to the rest of their family were upsetting to say the least, but they were also aware of how harshly he took out his faults on himself. Overall, those days wore on everyone.

They stewed in silence for a minute or so before the emo broke the quiet. “What else happened?” Virgil pressed gently.

“What do you mean?”

“What else happened?” Virgil said. “I’m guessing there’s more.”

Roman sighed loudly. “I may have said some things in response that didn’t exactly deescalate the situation.” he admitted in a small voice.

“Oh. Well, it sounds like you were both kind of at fault here, though Logan shouldn’t have reacted so harshly to begin with, you did keep pushing him when he looked upset.” Virgil said.

“Um. Yeah. Yeah, that’s true, but I might have,” Roman voice grew in pitch with guilt. “I just might, have uh, crossed the line just a bit.”

“Roman,” Virgil started firmly, “What happened?”

“Fine!” Roman snapped before beginning to ramble. “So I kept making him mad because I was kind of in a bad mood, and he was clearly in a bad mood too, so he responded super angrily to some light teasing. It kept getting worse and worse, but I kept going because it distracted me from how upset I was to begin with. Then Logan just told me, to my face, that I was the reason he had so many problems, and I was too flighty and difficult to work with. He blamed me for his constant stress and how slowly Thomas gets any task done. He blamed me for the small amount of time he got to spend with the rest of our family! That was so uncalled for! So, I told him it was probably a good thing, because he was too uptight and mean to everyone, so I was glad he never got to be around us, because we would all feel worse about ourselves!”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Roman!”

Roman drug a hand down his face. He groaned from the back of his throat as tears sprung to his eyes. “I know! I know that was way too far, but I was so mad, Virgil! And then he promised to do everyone a favor and stay in his room for a few months, and I was so furious that I agreed.”

“Okay,” Virgil took in a slow breath, waiting until Roman did the same. “Okay. What Logan said was wrong, really wrong. You have every right to be upset about that comment.”

“Yeah.” Roman said in a small voice.

“But you also purposely provoked him and responded by attacking something you know he’s really sensitive about. That part is on you, man.”

“Yeah.” Roman said again.

“None of that should have happened.” Virgil sighed. “I was wondering why I haven’t seen him in so long. Logan was supposed to come get us when he gets that stressed and overwhelmed,”

“-and I should not have taken my frustration out on him.” Roman finished.

“Yup.”

Roman pulled his legs up onto the counter to tuck them beneath his chin. “His comment still really hurts though, like, I know I was asking for it, but I can’t help but think about it on top of how guilty I feel.”

Virgil set the tub of melting ice cream down beside him. He wrapped an arm around Roman’s slumped shoulders. “Look, Princey, you messed up. It hurts and were going to deal with it. But that doesn’t make Logan’s words hurt less, even if you were kind of in the wrong. You can be upset, you can work through how it made you feel, and understand that it isn’t true. Logan refuses to ask for help, even at that cost, he won’t communicate how anything affects him, the comment isn’t actually true.”

Roman sniffled.

“Just because you were in the wrong, doesn’t mean you’re wrong to feel hurt. You’re gonna own up for your dumb part, and it’s up to him to work with his crappy emotional repression stuff.”

Virgil gently pulled Roman’s head down to lean on his shoulder.

“I feel so bad.” Roman whispered brokenly, his body tense.

“That probably makes you a good person or something.” Virgil decided with a loose shrug. “You’re a very noble and very dramatic Prince, you’ll do the right thing and apologize.”

“He might refuse to talk to me.” Roman worried.

“I’ll soften him up for you, you know how he is.”

“Yeah,” Roman managed a small smile into Virgil’s hoodie. Logan had such a soft spot for Virgil, neither were sure why, but Virgil got through to him better than most could.

“Give the poor guy a hug and he basically collapses into you.” Virgil chuckled as he gently carded Roman’s soft hair.

“Emotionally repressed loser.” Roman joked.

Virgil lightly batted the side of Roman’s head. “Aw, leave him alone. You and Pat are the ones who never hugged him growing up.”

“Y’know I think you have a favorite brother.” Roman snarked.

“Shut up.” Virgil rolled his eyes again. “Logan’s just cooler than you guys.”

“I literally never said Logan’s name.”

“It was implied!”

“Sure Virgil.”

“Whatever you brat.” Virgil said without any real bite. “Let’s eat some ice cream, fall into bed, and work it out in the morning. Then I get Logan back.”

“Mean.” Roman sneered playfully.

“Nah, I just have good taste.”

“I’ll get the knife out again.” Roman threatened.

“Don’t you dare.”

Chapter 2: Stale

Summary:

Virgil moves on to Logan, and finds a problem running deeper than he had expected.

Notes:

If you throw Logan in a fic I will increase the angst. Whoops. Sorry bestie, I love him, I just gotta hurt him

Virgil silently tipped his head backwards to stare at the ceiling. A long sigh hissed through his teeth. He pulled a hand from his baggy hoodie pocket to move his feathery bangs from his eyes. He tapped his foot on the carpet as he bit at the inside of his lip with a mixed frustration.

To no real surprise, Logan was refusing any company.

After waking up on the couch with Roman that morning, Virgil shoved the dozing prince off him (but not without grabbing a blanket for him of course.) and prepared to drag Logan from his room.

Virgil had accidently slept in later than he had initially planned to, something he (affectionately) blamed Roman for. Unfortunately, a pile of pillows and a clingy Creativity made for a pretty good six hours of sleep.

He quickly ran up to his room, got dressed, ran downstairs, and snagged a bagel before heading upstairs again, running into cheery Patton as the father figure was about to descend the staircase.

“Mornin Kiddo!” he chirped. “I saw you and Roman curled up like cats on the couch downstairs earlier,” he chuckled, “Buncha cuties.”

Virgil grumpily pulled up his hoodie to hide his reddened face. He scowled at the blatant attack on his edgy persona but relented because it was Patton, and he was willing to make exceptions for Patton. Anyone else he probably would have bitten.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. The dummy needed my advice last night and it got late, okay?” Virgil grumbled as he tugged at his hoodie strings.

Patton beamed and reached up to ruffle Virgil’s hair. “I just like seeing my Kiddo’s get along so well.” he said as he slipped around him.

“Wait,” Virgil said before he could leave.

“Yeah?” Patton blinked. His hand lingered over the stair handrail.

Worry crept into Virgil’s raspy voice as he quietly asked, “Have you seen Logan around?”

Patton’s content smile thinned into a forced grimace. He nodded reluctantly. “Kind of.” he said as positively as he could manage.

“Today?”

“It was a bummer, but yes.”

Virgil groaned and rubbed a hand down his face. “What’d he do?”

“Well,” Patton hesitated, his strained smile wavering. “Y’know,” he said politely, “I really think he needs a nap.”

Virgil could only shrug in agreement. “Probably, but did he say anything upsetting to you?”

“He’s definitely got a case of the Grumpies,” Patton said with some disappointment. “But he wasn’t too mean, I think he’s the one who’s really upset right now. I tried knocking on his door pretty early this morning, not that I got very far with him.”

“Yeah, well he and Roman fought last week and they’ve both been taking it pretty hard. Apparently, it was bad for both of them. The fight escalated and Logan promised to shut himself in for a few months. Apparently, he’s stupid enough to keep that promise.”

Patton sighed and shook his head. “Those two. I was wondering what was up with them. Roman’s been stiff and avoidant all week and Logan hasn’t shown a single hair in just as long. I don’t know if he’s eating, or sleeping, or okay.” Patton’s voice went quiet with concern as he worried his cardigan sleeves between his fingers.

Morality’s eyes threatened to water before he gently rubbed them. “I’m trying not to be overbearing, but I’m scared that he isn’t okay.”

Virgil set a heavy hand atop of Patton’s shoulder. “I’m going to talk to Logan, okay?”

Patton nodded.

“I already talked with Roman last night over a tub of ice cream, he’s going to be okay. And Logan will be fine too. Both of them. Roman’s already coming around and I’ll go bully Logan into breakfast and a healthy amount of sleep.”

Patton gave a weak smile. “You’re so good with them, Virgil.”

Virgil snorted. “Nah. I’m just smart and they’re just stupid.”

“Virgil, that’s mean.” Patton scolded lightly.

“It’s my meanness that gets through to them.” Virgil retorted.

Patton sighed fondly. “Whatever it is that you do, give it a try on Logan. I’ll get Roman to help me bake something fun for a late brunch or something.”

“I will, thanks dad.”

So there Virgil was. Attempting to work his magic on the dumb, dumb nerd locked behind the door in front of him.

Though how was Virgil supposed to lovingly bully someone if he can’t even get into the same room as said someone?

“Logan. Come on, open the door.” Virgil tried for the fourth time. “Please, Logan. C’mon. I want to talk to you. Please bud?”

Nothing.

Virgil weakly kicked the bottom of the door with his clunky boot. “Open up.” he groaned.

A surprisingly loud thud slammed against the other side of the door, startling Virgil into jumping three feet backwards like a scared cat.

Slowly, Virgil crept closer to the door. “Logan …  buddy? That you?” he called hesitantly.

“That was my stapler. Leave.” Logan said through the wood, his voice still noticeably raspy even when muffled by the door.

“Not going to happen, L. Tell your stapler I need to come in.” Virgil said firmly.

“… why?”

Virgil sighed at just how dense Logan could be. “Because I’m worried. You’ve been cooped up for days. Plus, I’m getting sick of Janus. I need new company.”

“I gathered that much.” Logan said flatly. “I just don’t see the point in telling my stapler.”

“… oh.” Virgil winced. “My bad. Okay, forget the stapler. Just unlock the door for me.”

“No.” Logan said simply.

Virgil leaned his forehead against the door. “Please?”

“No. Leave.”

Virgil gently thunked his head on the door again. “Pretty please with a cherry on top.” he tried gruffly.

“I’m not particularly fond of cherries.”

“You’ve got to be sick of staying in that room for so long.” Virgil tried coaxing.

“I’m sure you’re equally sick of this pointless argument.”

“Stop deflecting.” Virgil scoffed.

“Stop bothering me.”

Virgil ran both hands through his hair. Logan was stubborn, he reminded himself. He was stubborn and often self-destructive when avoiding his emotions. Virgil had to be patient, he had to be calm. All he needed was to wear down an already worn-out Logan, just until he can find an opening.

He took in a slow breath of air to calm himself.

Virgil gently lowered his voice, “Logan, I’m worried about you. Patton is worried about you, he’s scared you aren’t eating, sleeping, drinking. I’m scared you’re going to get hurt or something. I know you’re upset, I know you’re struggling to deal with it, and I really want to be there for you.”

Nothing but silence came from the door.

“Please, Logan.”

There was a tense moment where Virgil was nearly ready to accept defeat.

“Have you heard from Roman?” Logan asked, almost too quiet to make out. His voice was uncharacteristically hesitant, like a scared kid

“Why don’t we talk about it inside?” Virgil suggested in an empathetic whisper.

“I- I don’t want you to see me right now.” Logan resisted.

Virgil nodded slowly, not that Logic could see. he whispered, “You wanna tell me why?”

There was another long pause.

“I am not presentable at the moment.” he admitted.

Virgil couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. “I dress like an early 2000s emo every day, in the year 2022. You think I care about how presentable you are? My makeup is racoon themed.”

More silence.

Then, to Virgil’s great relief, the door clicked open, and he could feel a load lift off his heart. He gently pushed the door open just enough to slip inside the dim room. He shut it behind him.

It took a few seconds for Virgil’s eyes to adjust to the musty darkness. The air smelt stiff. The dusty curtains were drawn tight, allowing almost no light to enter. The room was completely trashed, with old blankets strewn about the floor, overflowing garbage cans, inky papers balled up and littered around, and old books scattered and piled into wherever they could be crammed into. The glow of Logan’s computer illuminated the burdened silhouette of the person he came to see.

The sight of Logan himself was the worst part, and Virgil couldn’t help but wince in pity at the miserable side.

The first thing that Virgil noticed was how hollow and dead Logan looked. His own throat seemed to choke up as he took in the sight. Silent dread churned like butter in his stomach. A river of anxiety ran down into gut.

It was worse than he thought.

Logan was curled up on his stiff office chair with a thin blanket around his shoulders that was threatening to slip off. His hair was sticking up in the wrong places and he clearly hadn’t washed it in far too long. His glasses were smudged and crooked.

A closer look revealed that Logan’s eyes were bloodshot, from lack of sleep, rubbing, or crying, Virgil wasn’t sure. The area beneath his eyes was nearly as dark as Virgil’s with his signature eyeshadow. He was paler than usual and wearing a ratty NASA tee instead of his polo. His posture was slouched and heavy laden.

“Hey Bud.” Virgil said quietly as he approached a little closer. His boots dragged slightly across the hardwood floor of Logan’s room.

“Greetings, Virgil.” Logan said without making eye contact. The effort of speaking grated over his exhausted throat.

Slowly, he pried his gaze from Logan’s pitiful form. “Can I take a seat?” Virgil asked as he gestured to the nearby couch.

Logan hunched into himself further, nearly shivering despite the warm room. “Yes.” he said mutely.

Virgil took his time, slowly settling himself beside a mound of textbooks on the opposite cushion. He waited for Logan to take the first move, as painful as it was to wait for.

He would be patient. He would be calm.

“Are you angry?” Logan asked in a subdued voice.

“About what?”

Logan uselessly adjusted his glasses. “Any of it. What I said to Roman, what I did, the fact that I deliberately isolated myself even though you have genuinely expressed how much you dislike it.”

Anxiety frowned. “I’m not like, excited that you said all that and isolated yourself for so long, but I’m not mad at you. I think it’s dumb,” he sighed, “Like I told you, I’m just worried.”

“You’re doing your job.” Logan said quietly.

“I’m doing my job as your friend, Logan.” Virgil corrected. “You’re cool and I like you. So I don’t like seeing you so sad.”

“Not that I am, but if you stayed outside my door then you wouldn’t have to see me be sad.” Logan grumbled.

“I’d still worry, L. Roman told me what happened a couple weeks ago,” Virgil said as he pulled a pillow into his lap.

“Surely, you’re angry with me after hearing about that.” Logan said almost numbly, “I was far too aggressive, and I imagine that Roman is very distraught. I said many things that I had no right to say.”

“You both did.” Virgil countered.

“I have less of an excuse.” Logan said as he picked up a pile of papers on his desk, channeling his frustration as he scribbled and marked it up. “I should know better.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow until Logan got too uncomfortable to remain silent.

Logan continued in a detached monotone ramble. “He’s an emotional trait, he was under a large amount of stress, and he was hardly being any more irritating than usual. I reacted in an entirely unprofessional and unpredictable manner, and I’m sure he’s suffering as a result.”

“He’s okay.” Virgil said simply, but softly. He was being careful, keeping his own contributions to a minimum in order for Logan to reveal what he was thinking.

Logan’s jaw tightened as his grip on the pile of papers did as well. “Good.” he said shortly.

“But the reason he’s okay is because he recognized what he did wrong, and he’s processing what happened, and how it made him feel.” Virgil explained.

Logan’s expression soured. “Right. Of course.” he said bitterly, “You want me to go apologize. I made him feel upset. You know you could have opened with that instead of trying to appeal to my emotions. It would have been far more efficient.”

“L, that’s not what I meant.” Virgil said as he resisted another sigh. It stung, hearing Logan think his way out of why Virgil would want to comfort him.

“Then what do you mean, Virgil?” Logan snapped. “You should simply tell me. As I’m clearly far too emotionally illiterate to understand the purpose of your visit.”

“Hey,” Virgil put his hands out placatingly. “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything. That isn’t why I’m here.”

Logan swallowed thickly, dull eyes flickering away to avoid Virgil’s gaze. He anxiously rubbed his thumbs together.

“Before I came in, I told you why I came. Right?” Virgil said encouragingly, head tilted softly.

Logic took in an unsteady breath. He nodded and mumbled an agreement.

“Can you remember what I said?”

With a small sniffle that Logan would never admit to, he nodded again. “You said you were worried.” he choked out, eyes squeezed shut.

“Right. I’m worried about you. Not Roman right now, but you. I’m not mad at you, I’m not here to scold you. I’m just here because we’re friends.”

For the first time in a while, Logan looked up. His eyes were glossy and glazed with exhaustion. He opened his mouth to speak before snapping it closed again.

“What’s wrong, L?” Virgil prodded delicately.

“Nothing.” Logan whispered back, with a lack of confidence that would be laughable had it not been so pitiful instead.

“C’mon. You know you can tell me. What’s wrong.” Virgil pressed gently, a rueful smile on his face.

“Nothing is wrong.” Logan insisted with a scowl.

“Logan-”

“JUST SHUT UP!” Logan suddenly snarled as he stood and hurled a pile of papers off his desk. A ceramic mug slipped off the side of the desk and explosively shattered over the floor.

Virgil didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to, really. He just leaned forward slowly, silently propping his chin on his hand. He pursed his lips, eyebrows furrowed, but no loud reactions came from him.

Logan’s back was to Virgil. He was panting and remained on his feet, but he was otherwise silent as well. His head turned to stare at the broken mug.

“You should leave.” Logan said blankly, without turning around. He rested his hands against the desk to lean over it, breath heavy.

“Why? You just knocked something over.” Virgil said, making no move to get up.

In a sudden shift of mood, Logan practically snarled through his teeth “Because Roman is right. I hurt everyone around me with my pathetic issues. Leave, before I break you like I broke the stupid mug.”

“I’m tougher than the mug.” Virgil shrugged. “And way more stubborn. Plus, Roman is wrong, so I’m not leaving.”

“I wasn’t asking.” Logan growled lowly.

“You don’t scare me, L. I’m not leaving.” Virgil said firmly yet casually, his chin still propped on his hand. He was still comfortably settled on the cluttered sofa, only a few feet away.

Logan laughed, a horrible broken sound that grated against his chest on the way out. He turned his eyes to rest on Virgil.

“I don’t scare you?” he huffed, “I don’t-” Without warning, Logan snatched his glasses off his face and pitched them across the room where they smacked against the wall above Virgil’s head. They cracked into dozens of pieces.

“That’s all you’re capable of, Virgil.” Logan snarled through gritted teeth, his pitch rising as his volume increased alongside it. “All you do is get scared. You worry, and fret, and threaten, and whine, and panic over nothing. You fear everything. You’re terrified about what we’ll think of you. You’re scared you’ll never get better. You’ll never evolve. You’re so weak, yet you think you’re so strong.” he spat.

Virgil didn’t react. He just watched and blinked slowly.

“It’s pathetic. It’s revolting. You’re nothing but the irrational fears that keep children awake at night.” Logan growled as his chest heaved with effort.

“Okay.” Virgil said neutrally. “Are we done now?”

For a moment, nothing happened. Logan just glared; his whole body was painfully tense.

Then, after what felt like several minutes, his eyes went fuzzy and unfocused as he seemed to collapse inwardly. He silently retreated to his desk. Then, after a moment of apparent confusion, he dropped heavily into the office chair with a loud thunk. Still without words, he laid his head down on the desk beside his keyboard and covered his face with his arms.

Virgil allowed himself a moment to lightly close his eyes, processing the scene. He didn’t feel blood, like Logan had intended.

He just felt sad.

Gently, he rose to his feet, the couch creaked as he did. He watched Logan’s form wince with the sound.

He walked slowly as he approached the desk. He stepped around the broken mug. A twinge of sadness pricked his lungs when he noticed through the dim light that the mug was a gift from them, for Logan’s birthday.

He cleared a spot on the desk by messily shoving some papers to the side, then he hoisted himself up onto now empty space. After sitting silently for a few moments, he set a gentle hand atop Logan’s shoulder.

Logan flinched, shuddered, and bit back a bruised sob.

Virgil gently pushed Logan’s arms off his head, and slowly carded his fingers through the broken side’s hair.

“I’m still not mad.” Virgil said quietly, his gruff voice tender.

“Why?” Logan said as his voice cracked.

“You’re hurting.”

“Who cares? I just hurt you. I hurt Roman. I always manage to somehow.” Logan whispered as he rubbed his damp cheeks with his shaking hands, covered in ink stains and with the nails chewed short.

“Not always. You know that isn’t true. You’re helpful, and smart, and-”

“That’s as Logic. That’s as my job. That’s me fulfilling my purpose.” Logan snapped, before stopping abruptly and lowering his voice to a more vulnerable level. “As Logan, a- as a friend, I’m not very good.”

Logan swallowed thickly as his eyes pooled and overflowed, dripping onto the stained desk.

“I don’t deserve all of you. I’m too broken and I’m cracked. I have these horrible sharp edges that cut the people who try and get close enough to help me. My emotions,” he said the word as if it burned, “are too volatile. I should just stay away, but it’s so hard.” his voice shook.

Virgil never ceased petting his hair. He bit his tongue and waited, despite the flood of protective protests building behind his lips.

“I stopped sleeping.” Logan whispered as he turned his head to look up at Virgil numbly. “I get sick when I eat. I don’t have the energy to clean up, but the mess stresses me out every time I remember where I am. There’s nothing but coffee in me. I get dizzy when I stand. A- and the only time I stop working is when my tears make my screen too blurry.”

Virgil fought his own tears but remained calm and slow. He hoped his hands didn’t shake as he weaved his fingers through Logan’s coarse hair.

“Roman was right, I do hurt people I love. I agreed with him the moment he said it, I just don’t know if I’m strong enough to take his advice and stay away.”

“Logan, I promise you, he didn’t mean it.” Virgil said, tone wavering on begging.

“I don’t think he meant to say it.” Logan murmured in partial agreement, “but maybe he believed it, somewhere deep down. It came from somewhere, surely. It’s okay, I’m not mad anymore. I’m just … lonely, now.”

“You won’t ever be again, L. You don’t need to be. I’m never letting you out of my sight. We aren’t ever doing this again, none of us want you gone. Not me, not Patton, not Jan or Remus, and absolutely not Roman.” Virgil said in a strained whisper.

There was a pause.

“I’m sorry.” Logan whispered again. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

Virgil swallowed his creaky voice. “I forgive you.” he managed to say evenly.

“Did you really miss me?” Logan asked quietly, as a miniscule smile bloomed on his lips.

“I really did.” Virgil said with a watery laugh, finally giving in enough to wipe his own eyes.

Logan’s eyes fluttered as he rubbed his face. “I’m tired.” he said aimlessly.

“Let’s go to bed then.” Virgil said.

“isn’t it around noon?” Logan’s unfocused eyes squinted at the clock.

“Time isn’t real, and you’re sleep deprived. C’mon.” Virgil said as he stood, dragging Logan up with him. “We’ll nap in my room.”

Logan sleepily leaned against Virgil’s broad chest, using the hoodie as a place to rest his head. “Circadian rhythm.” he murmured.

“What does that even mean in his context?” Virgil chuckled as he looped an arm around Logan to sink out together.

“Mm Tired.” Logan grumbled.

“I know, Buddy. I know. It’s bedtime, we’re going.”

“Noon.” Logan argued weakly.

“Heard you the first time.” Virgil said as he guided Logan to his bed.

“Though you said time isn’t real.” Logan mumbled as he tugged Virgil’s weighted blanket over himself.

Virgil snorted. “You’re such a smart aleck.”

“Mmm.” Logan hummed wordlessly as he drifted off. “An’ you’re such a good brother.”

Virgil’s chest warmed internally, and he couldn’t quite stop the fond smile that spread over his features.

He scoffed in half-disbelief. “Softie.” he mumbled as he pulled the blanket up to Logan’s chin and laid down beside him, ready to watch over him as he slept.

Notes:

I might do one last fluffy chapter with all of em, for some last big brother Virge time

Notes:

I'll do a second chapter if that's something ya'll want. I really like playing with these dynamics

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 6 of shorts with the sides