The Observable Future: Logan's Learned Lessons in Lacking Love

by OrbManson7

Summary:

Here's some miscellaneous ficlets and oneshots of Logan angst that didn't fit with other stories.
Warnings available at the start of each chapter, but nearly all of these are rather depressing.
Enjoy.

Chapter 1: Futility

Notes:

Warnings: Negative thinking

Logan had known the truth for quite a while, but he hadn’t wanted to believe it.

He was useless.

The more Thomas’ mental state worsened, his anxiety and intrusive thoughts grabbing hold stronger with every passing day, the more Logan noticed his control over any of it slowly slipping away.

He’d worked so hard to keep a firm grip on his own mind, his schedule, his behavior so that he could best benefit Thomas… And yet, here he was, slipping up with sarcastic remarks, angry outbursts, and now laziness?

Thomas deserved better, and Logan knew that.

Thomas needed a logic center who would perform properly, do his job without all these imperfections, and actually succeed in keeping Thomas on track so he could achieve happiness.

Logan couldn’t do that, so why was he still there? Why did he continue to try?

He gazed blankly at the room around him. What was meant to be neat and organized was instead utterly cluttered and impossible to sort without time and patience–neither of which did Logan have to spare these days.

He couldn’t help Thomas in this state, and the workload had long since surpassed what he knew himself capable to handle. At this rate, he would forever be in the red, never able to achieve what he was meant to be, never able to help Thomas simply function as an adult–the one thing he was there to do. His whole meaning for existence left unattained.

He was useless.

Logan honestly wondered if it was more bewildering to him that he hadn’t realized his futility sooner or that he had even managed to last this long without being replaced.

Sure, he had the passion to see Thomas succeed someday. He wanted to see Thomas grow and mature and conquer the world in all the ways he dreamed…

But Logan hadn’t done nearly enough to help. Hell, he’d sabotaged Thomas’ goals with his own incompetence!

If only something had clicked in Thomas’ mind, something had stepped in to replace this faulty part, this broken logic. Then maybe he wouldn’t have to watch Thomas fail.

Maybe Thomas would be happier.

He could argue that he tried, but it didn’t matter how much Logan wanted to help if none of the support he provided benefited anyone. His schedules and charts meant nothing to Thomas and the other sides. The information he provided was clearly only optional, not needed. He was never doing enough. They deserved the absolute best he could give, but what had they all received instead? Doubt. Regret. Irrationality, even.

It didn’t matter if his intentions were good if the resulting impact was terrible.

If he wasn’t producing results, then why was he still around? The others may have dealt more heavily in emotions, but at least they still accomplished what they set out to do.

They served their purpose.

As illogical as those tasks may seem to him at times, the others did always complete them.

They helped Thomas; they made him happy and gave him fulfillment.

When has Logan ever managed to accomplish such things?

Some days, he has the energy to complete an extra project, to get a surplus of work done. Other days, his productivity screeches to a halt, and he winds up with even more work left unfinished for the next day.

One step forward, four steps back. Another step back. Another. And another.

No matter the small progress he makes in one day, it never catches up to the large amounts of detriment that’s already in place and ever-increasing.

It was useless.

He was useless.

Why hadn’t he just stopped wasting Thomas’ time already? He should just give up.

It would be better for everyone that way.

Chapter 2: Confrontation

Notes:

Warnings: Sides acting unsympathetic and saying hurtful things

The deadline had passed.

He made attempts but ultimately failed to progress on his own personal issues, resulting only in detriment to Thomas and the other sides. He had then waited, not notifying anyone of this surpassed deadline, knowing he couldn’t burden the others, only to soon find he’d burdened them anyway.

Neither solution had provided reprieve, and he’d only continued his stagnation, the very issue he’d been attempting to resolve.

They were tired of waiting on him.

The others had worked hard to improve themselves, listening closer to Thomas’ needs and wants. They had learned how to better work with each other, and had phenomenally increased their productivity to complete what must be done for Thomas.

It was understandable that their patience with Logan would run out eventually, especially once the deadline had come and gone, but he hadn’t been prepared for what would come to pass when it did.

---

“You can’t expect to run this whole show by yourself!” Roman proclaimed, “We’re not going to bend over backwards to satisfy your impossible standards, you pretentious egocentric nerd!”

Logan grimaced.

“Egocentric?”

With only one word, one reaction, a loud and energetic jumble of voices from the other sides chided him, all yelling over each other to hound him for his misgivings.

“Stop acting like you’re the only one who knows anything around here!”

“Can’t you just shut up and listen to us for once?”

“Mocking him isn’t going to get you what you want, Logan. We’re all adults here, so we should act like it.”

Logan kept his mouth firmly shut. They had a lot to say and they were right, so he should do his best to listen for now. While he’d admit it would be easier to do so if they would try taking turns, he couldn’t exactly blame them for reacting emotionally. He’d long since crossed a line with them, and this was an understandable and deserving response to his negligent behavior.

“Oh, are we dog-piling in here? Do let me join in!”

Logan continued to hold his tongue as two more sides joined the… Could it really be called a discussion? Likely not.

“Finally had your fill at the top then, hm? Moved on down the rung to micromanage us, too, have you?”

Logan pursed his lips but kept silent, as they all clearly need of him.

Then, Roman scoffed louder than all the others’ remarks, and for a moment, Logan believed the yelling was about to be over. But as he met Roman’s gaze, he knew he was wrong to think such a thing.

Roman looked furious.

Logan, unfortunately, recognized such an expression as he’d seen it staring him in the mirror upon far too many occasions.

“Why do we even bother?” Roman spat, his words stinging like fire in Logan’s ears as he spoke. “You think you’re better than us. Better than all of us!

"Well, if you’re not gonna listen to our advice, then why don’t you just shrivel up and rot somewhere all alone, like you’re clearly so inclined!”

Like he’s so inclined? Logan blinked in confusion, trying desperately not to react to such a suggestion.

They recognized his failure to improve, and he notated they were giving advice, but surely this was not a genuine suggestion, right? This could not possibly be their solution to the problem of his stagnation, could it?

He glanced at the other sides, even Janus, only to see a resigned and tired look in everyone’s eyes.

So, it was true. It was an actual suggestion, then.

Logan took a steadying breath. He could handle that, he knew he could. This was probably just an emotionally-charged response and could be resolved in very little time if he simply–

Roman shifted his stance in front of him, completely resetting Logan’s thought process.

No, he reminded himself, they had marked this as advice and Logan had already failed them. It would be improper at this stage to refute or deny their words. They were right, and he needed to listen.

He took a quiet step back, debating whether to speak in this moment or not. Would it better to give his confirmation or would they prefer the validation of their efforts through his actions?

He didn’t need to ponder long. The answer was clear.

He sunk out. He knew what he needed to do.

---

“I thought you said that was supposed to work?!” Roman had instantly turned to where both his brother and Janus were standing. “He didn’t do anything! He just stood there!”

Janus sighed, a gloved hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Apparently he’s lost any will to fight. He was supposed to at least get angry, but–”

“Angry?” Patton chimed in, frowning deeply. “But, well, he didn’t look angry in the slightest! He looked like…like…”

"Like he expected this,” Virgil supplied, slumping into his hoodie like he wanted to disappear.

"Uh-oh!” Remus grinned. “Looks like y'all were a little too honest and he got that picture loud and clear!”

Roman sighed dramatically, balling his hands into fists.

“Well… shit.”

Chapter 3: Failure to React

Notes:

Warnings: Negative thinking

The others had made their effort.

They’d expressed their intentions, they informed Logan of his status as part of their ‘famILY’.

And he just stood there.

He had failed to react.

Patton faltered, clearly expecting something more of him in that moment. Roman gradually grew miffed, annoyed that Logan wasn’t somehow filled with gratitude at his words. Even Virgil rolled his eyes, unsurprised at Logan’s incapacity for emotion.

It wasn’t their fault, though. It was Logan’s.

They had reached out, they had changed for the better, and he was one who still held back.

They had made their effort and he’d refused to accept it.

He wanted something to come loose, for some reaction to burst out of him, as though their moment of kindness had somehow held the key to unlocking whatever had locked down his emotions, the ones he’d hidden away for so long.

But nothing happened.

It was as if the well had long since run dry and there were no emotions left to release. He was empty, devoid of something so unnecessary, so needless.

Logic didn’t require emotions, so Logan didn’t have any.

But the others deserved to be rewarded for their effort, and Logan chose to thank them. His voice was cold and calm as always, making Patton wince and flinch away at his words. The others were not pleased with his attempts in gratitude, clearly.

They deserved so much more than he could ever give them.

All their effort and hard work had been wasted on him, and nothing would ever come of it.

It was unfair, and Logan wanted to feel some way about that, but he couldn’t.

Should he attempt to fake it? No, no, disingenuous reactions would be difficult to maintain. After all, acting was Roman’s forte, not his.

Perhaps he could adopt some of Patton’s tactics of soul-searching, and he’d take some time to potentially find something, somewhere, deep within himself. It was unlikely to succeed, and would be wholely uncomfortable if he did find anything there… but this wasn’t about him, was it?

Perhaps something unsavory would be better than this nothing.

Perhaps whatever was supposedly there could be controlled? He could let it show just a moment, enough to sate the others, enough to show them he was thankful.

Perhaps he could do something right. Just for them.

But who was he kidding? Since when had he ever managed to accomplish that?

Chapter 4: Reduction

Notes:

Warnings: Negative thinking

Logan’s workload had been reduced.

It was a necessary exchange to maintain balance in Thomas’ mind, creating more opportunities for collaboration between the sides, to encourage mutual understanding and acknowledgement of issues, and to benefit Thomas on a greater scale than ever before.

How could Logan be bothered by such a bold and important initiative?

Sure, his tasks were minimized to restore balance, leaving him with absolutely no use beyond answering the others’ questions so long as it only required factual knowledge and his responses were kept succinct and straight-forward. Really, the biggest benefit he had given to the others was to grant them more of their own time back to use constructively, instead of having to listen to Logan drone on about any particular topic.

It allowed the others to all interact with each other and assist Thomas even more and proved that Logan had little need to pop in and offer anything of value anymore. They were able to be their best selves due to his absence.

He should probably have been grateful for the downtime. The benefits to Thomas and the other sides had been immense so far; they’re more at peace and getting along and not causing problems that Logan was driven to solve, so this was for the best, right?

They were happier and that was supposed to matter more than anything, so this was fine.

He should be satisfied.

But he wasn’t. In fact, Logan found that he was running out of ways to add a hopeful and positive spin to his situation.

The complete removal of his workload had left Logan ultimately unproductive and worthless and unnecessary. He was unable to serve beyond his function, though why had he ever expected he should do more than that in the first place?

Why was he so compelled to find some way out of this situation, despite its positive effects for Thomas and the other sides? Why did he want to find some kind of solution that would only benefit himself, even if he aimed not to interrupt everyone else’s obtained tranquility?

Did he really have any right to demand special treatment, to think he deserved differently than the others? If they were satisfied, why couldn’t he be, too?

What was this illogical desire to burden the others, to undo their earned progress, simply due to his own dissatisfaction? If this was an emotion, some torturous blight on his psyche, what purpose did it serve in this moment?

He had no right to debate his status, to grant himself a chance to resolve this non-issue. The others wouldn’t want to hear it, anyway, and it was far from what was expected of him in his function to Thomas.

It wouldn’t be right.

It was clearly some irrational emotion trying to drive him towards disruptive action, to purposefully bog down a now-perfect system. He needed to keep a clear mind and stay on track. Perform his function, stick to his minimal workload, and stop complaining about frivolous matters.

No, he couldn’t challenge this. He shouldn’t do such a thing to Thomas or the others. He had to stop thinking about this and simply get used to it already.

If it was for everyone else’s sake, for their happiness and health, then it had to be worth it.

Chapter 5: Failure

Notes:

Warnings: Negative thinking

It was a constant nagging thought, the idea that he would never be good enough.

He’d been falling behind more and more over the years, the workload taking up more of his time and energy than ever before, but there was no one else to pick up the slack so he would just have to bear through it, for everyone’s sake.
But now? Now the other sides were consulting with one another and Thomas was building himself a habit of checking in with Virgil and Patton and Roman, and even Janus on occasion, to make sure they were communicating and staying on the same page. They were improving, doing better, even if it was only enough to figuratively tread water instead of going under and drowning in the ocean of responsibilities and incomplete tasks.
Logan had to admit, he was proud that Thomas was doing marginally better.

Unfortunately, Thomas’ improvement was a stark contrast to Logan’s nosedive of failure and lack of progress over the years. There was no hiding Logan’s lack of upkeep in the memory records, with unimportant files going missing or misplaced.
And you could easily tell Logan hadn’t made progress on most of his plans, a bunch of non-starters that he could never convince Thomas to take on. He’d been stuck for what felt like ages of trying different ways of convincing Thomas to pick up a cleaning routine for his apartment, only to finally realize it really had actually been years now since he’d been even slightly successful in his attempts and he’d failed to make progress or move forward on more taxing or beneficial projects because of his misguided focus. He spent so much of that time trying to maintain a baseline and create some consistency in Thomas' life that he never had the chance to move on to his plans for improving his life beyond that.

He was failing Thomas.

In retrospect, it made sense that Thomas was able to improve his life so much more once Logan stepped further out of the picture. Taking a backseat and letting the others fill in the tiny space he still occupied at the time, Logan quickly learned that Thomas didn’t just need a break from logic, he needed a vacation from Logan, too.

But that vacation eventually became a sabbatical, and would surely soon become full retirement.

It was difficult to admit it to himself, but he couldn’t argue with the truth; Logan wasn’t needed.
Hell, he may not have been needed all along, really. Perhaps his position should have been filled by someone else long ago, and he had been selfishly keeping Thomas and the others pulled down all this time, because he somehow believed he was helping them.

What a fool he was.

So it didn’t matter how much it hurt to step away, but if it was for Thomas’ benefit, then that’s what he would do.

He could only hope it was the right decision.

Chapter 6: Let Go

Notes:

Warnings: Allegory to death/suicide, suicidal thoughts, negative thinking

The solution was simple, really.

What do you do with a cancerous blight in the otherwise perfect system? You cut it out, remove it entirely.

It can't do you any harm if it's nowhere near you, right? Keep it far away from those vital pieces it could affect and you've solved the problem entirely.

So that was what had to be done.

Logan somehow expected this. He wished he'd been surprised, but the moment the knock at the door came, he just knew.

He knew it was time, that the other sides were going to try to ask nicely and if he didn't immediately oblige, they were prepared to remove him by force instead. They wouldn't need to, of course, but they didn't always seem to realize that.

He sighed but answered the door calmly.

Standing, staring, silent - every one of their expressions were the same, nearly blurring together in Logan's mind as all he could register was their palpable disappointment.

They didn't even have to explain it, because he knew what had to be done. He simply nodded and stepped into the hall.

There was nothing to bring with him as he held no sentiment towards anything. He had no words to give the others as they held no sentiment for him.

They all turned and he followed their lead, walking silently and determinedly to his doom.

The subconscious, expressly available to remove unneeded garbage from Thomas' mindspace, was a mysterious albeit terrifying construct within the mindspace they all occupied. However, it was suitable and efficient and did its job well, so Logan supposed he could at least be grateful for that much, if not slightly envious.

As they reached the hatch to the subconscious' entrance, Logan didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and opened it instantly.

No one said a word, but as he climbed in, he glanced back at them for just a moment, just long enough to see those same formless expressions, displaying only disappointment. And then, for just a moment, he was certain he saw relief in their eyes, as well.

It would finally be over now, they knew. They could finally move on without him holding them back. They could finally be better, do better, because he'd be gone.

Once fully inside, he didn't bother climbing down into the subconscious, knowing that he wouldn't be missed or even considered ever again. He just let go of the railing and allowed himself to fall into the white void.

It was finally over. He was now doing the one thing they all wanted most from him, and he was finally able to satisfy their need.

And then he woke up.

He blinked drearily up at the ceiling of his room.

So, just another dream then, huh?

He was still in the mindscape, still uselessly dragging the others down, stuck here until they either got rid of him or he did the job for them.

There was no simple solution like his dreams liked to suggest, no hatch to hop through to escape the daily torturous grind. He was made to fulfill a role for Thomas, which meant he had to keep going, keep existing, until he either withered himself away to nothing or the others found a better way to truly be rid of him.

And knowing he was a metaphysical being of Thomas' mind meant he could only hope for the latter.

And he hoped it would come soon.

Chapter 7: Deduction

Notes:

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Negative Thinking

So, which was worse?

Finally admitting he was broken, rendered truly useless, and unable to find a solution? Or finally admit he was broken and then go on pretending as though that was fine and continuing to exist as though that wasn’t a complete hindrance on all of them?

He’d already made the first mistake and told someone. Why? He really wasn’t sure.

It seemed deceitful to keep this truth from them, though, to let Thomas and the other sides go on believing he was capable of accomplishing what was expected of him. If he kept pretending otherwise, only to put them all at a major disadvantage because they were not equipped with the proper information to determine a backup plan and mitigate the oncoming damage, that would only hurt them.

The least he could do was warn someone, right?

Somehow, he had deduced he should casually mention his uselessness to Patton of all sides. Likely more so out of convenience than anything else, surely.

He couldn’t determine what other factors would have him selecting Patton above any of the others. Logan was unsure if it was a mistake to do so, anyway.

Patton had, obviously, not accepted the news very well.

To Patton’s credit, however, he hadn’t expected anyone to take the news well, considering the subject matter.

“Don’t…say that,” Patton had demanded, sounding angry but appearing sad. “That’s not true, so don’t say it.”

Logan kept a neutral expression upon hearing such a reaction from him.

Unfortunately, no matter what Patton wanted to believe, Logan had told him the truth. He’d already kept it from them for too long.

"Very well,” he had told him. He never spoke about his uselessness again.

But now, he was met with a further dilemma. He had admitted the truth, but nothing had changed – save for maybe some pitying glances he now received from Patton on a regular basis – which also meant he was continuing to provide nothing of value by remaining alongside them. As much as he wanted to see Thomas’ progress, he didn’t deserve to help in making any decisions if he could no longer accomplish his stated tasks in his current state.

The deduction had been simple enough, but there was a fierce obstacle in the way of his full conclusion.

He would need to remove himself from the equation, clearly, but if the mere mention of his broken state would bring unneeded distress to the others, then it may be best not to warn them before his departure.

However, not warning them left Thomas and the other sides at a disadvantage, without the knowledge to strategize around his misgivings and plan accordingly with corrective actions. He could potentially be hindering them even more if he didn’t tell them first.

If it were him, he’d prefer the problem-solving approach, to know the truth of the matter so he could adjust workloads and keep Thomas on track. But he wasn’t like the other sides, who often relied more on their emotions. Would they not benefit more from avoiding unneeded stress before any adjustments would be made? Or would they have more stress afterward if they didn’t have a plan of action in covering his undone tasks?

Were his tasks even important enough to cause such stress? Perhaps they would be better suited to organizing around all that once he was out of the picture?

He had weighed the pros and cons, and it seemed like his deduction had led in favor of keeping the others in the dark.

“Very well,” he told himself.

If this resulted in the best outcome for the others, then it was the least he could do.

Notes:

Haha, the title is wordplay. Isn't that neat? :)

Chapter 8: Like a Lightbulb

Staring up at the light fixture, Logan attempted to ignore the jealous pang in his chest from knowing that the lightbulb inside had a purpose and was serving that purpose, doing its job.   

He had done so much to find his own, seeing something so simple and succinct achieve what he could not... It hurt.   

He wished he could be as useful as that lightbulb, made to give light to the dark, to bring forth understanding to ignorance and confusion. The smallest of sparks activating a wealth of knowledge, meant to be used daily, to help and guide others, make their lives that much easier.   

But instead, Logan was saddled with a group who look up at a lightbulb and fail to see how it strives to help them.   

Who argues with a lightbulb as it shines to illuminate the room? Why purposefully shut it off, keep it unused, preferring to wander about in the dark instead of allowing the bulb to do its job?  

More and more days go by, and he expected to be used again, as any lightbulb would, but Thomas and the others had somehow become so accustomed to feeling their way around in the dark, they seemed to grow used to it. Why bother turning on the light and just knowing and understanding what's in front of you when it's more 'fun' to wander directly into safety hazards and fumble around until you find what you're looking for?   

Surely they'd see the error of their ways eventually, when something bad happened or they stumbled and hurt themselves, right? He didn't want that to happen, of course, but what could he do if he was simply left there, unused, no power flowing through him to do anything at all?   

He couldn't stop them from their misadventures. He could only sit and wait, hope to be made useful, hope to do his job. But if they avoided flipping the switch, either out of resentment or habit at this point, what more could he do to help them?   

They still knew he was there to help, right? Sometimes someone might find it easier to use the dull light of a phone to find their way or locate a flashlight to guide their way, such an excessive effort when his switch was right there, waiting and gathering dust. It would take so little, yet they made it harder on themselves...   

He didn't fully blame them, either. After all, there were times when lighting up a room could be unnecessary, he supposed. Sometimes it was more fun to turn the lights off, sometimes it helped keep things calm and less vibrant, and there were certainly times where light was excessive, getting in the way. He knew that, he understood... But to not be used at all? Why bother having the whole mechanism installed, ready to fulfill its job at any moment, only to never use it?   

He could only hope that the others had not grown so disgusted or mistrusting of what he could provide them that they were actively avoiding him. It had to be out of habit that they had forgotten his usefulness, nothing more.   

But was it worse to be hated or forgotten?   

Either way, he's still left unused.   

Logan's eyes adjusted as he continued to stare up at the light fixture. Lightbulbs often lasted a very long time, whether they're used or not. So long as they haven't burnt out, they could be relied upon for years.   

But once they've burned out, there's nothing left to do but to toss them out.   

Perhaps it was better to be left unused, ready to fulfill his purpose once that chance finally came, rather than to no longer be able to serve one at all, destined only for removal and destruction.   

Maybe this was the better option.

Chapter 9: Fruitless Effort

Preservation and technique. 

Logan had classified the problem and found its most apt solution - maintain status quo so as to not burden anyone further, and find an appropriate and manageable workaround to complete the necessary but avoided process. 

It would likely take some trial and error, but so long as there was a functional result by the end, it didn't really matter how long the process would actually take. 

Or, rather, that was his initial intention. 

Now, however, he believed having set a deadline would have been better. He had wasted precious time - a valuable resource, especially after losing so many years - on his own doomed mission to fix a minor hiccup of emotion, something he never wanted nor needed, something he wasn't meant to have, and yet it continued to plague his progress with multiple mistakes and misunderstandings and failure. 

He was meant to resolve this quickly, but instead it dragged on, dragging him along behind it, as though it was what held control, as though he were the experiment in all of this instead. 

He hated that. 

Preservation and technique, right? He had certainly preserved something in all of this, but it wasn't the part he'd wanted. He hadn't meant to keep it, something that was only bound to bother the others should they ever know of it, and yet, here it stayed. 

Why hadn't he noticed? How could he have let it come to this? 

So much for trial and error, as this had been nothing but errors from the start.

---

There's Hope in Change

When had it happened? 

There was a day where something seemed different and it took more than a second glance back to realize that things had simply gone to plan that day without exception. 

No errors, no flaws, no shortcomings. 

He had actually accomplished what he'd set out to do. 

But how? 

When had it become feasible to do that which he'd deemed near-impossible so long ago? 

Logan would absolutely have to mark this as the progress that it was. Hopefully as a sign of improvement, betterment, and not just a blip on the radar, a fluke. 

He was well aware that progress wasn't linear, and he shouldn't hold onto unnecessary hope, but he could certainly still cherish this day's progress for what it was. 

This was a good change.

Notes:

I was tasked with writing from a fictional character's perspective in therapy today and guess who I chose? Anyway yeah this is what I had come up with on the fly, so hopefully it was alright.

Chapter 10: Separation

Notes:

Found this fic just sitting on my phone and figured I should post it (it seems like a lead-up to another fic I plan to post soon so I'll just post that later in here). Enjoy!

He’d been contemplating a solution to this unique problem for quite a while now. 

It would have been easier if there had been some sort of switchboard or intricate coding he could alter. 

Despite being metaphysical, Thomas clearly willed Logan and the other sides into his mind with human-like structures, so he was not equipped with any off-switch, unfortunately. 

Further study and research into human physiology proved of no use, either, as Logan did not qualify as human, only maintaining the appearance of one. It complicated everything. 

He was a process. A mental process that operated within and for Thomas’ brain. A process that apparently had a face, but only because that’s what Thomas wanted. 

All of this made finding a proper solution very difficult. 

Thomas needed his logic and reasoning, whether for internal contemplation and decision-making or for external educational and social purposes. No matter what, Logic was required. 

But Logan was not.  

Thomas may have needed logic to survive and thrive, but he did not want Logan - these excess parts to the process that muddled its purpose and complicated its structure. 

Without Logan, Thomas would be far freer, able to readily utilize his logic as needed, without the resistance from Logan’s ambitions holding him back or attempting to dissuade him, no unnecessary emotions that would often boil beneath the surface in some of Logan’s decisions and arguments, and most of all, no bias or anything standing in the way of genuine absolute truth. 

Only the facts, only the learned and studied knowledge, ready to be used at any moment, all for Thomas. Without Logan, Thomas could use his logic the way it was meant to be used.  

But how could he separate the two? That was the big question.  

Metaphysical bodies operated so differently to humans that nearly all of Logan’s research had gone to waste as he continued to search for a possible solution. 

The best he could do for now would be to remove his own interests, limit himself to performing his function and nothing more, but he knew that his structure was too unstable to maintain its bare minimum role for too long. 

Thomas had made his sides to have personalities, thoughts, passions… He wanted them to be as human as possible, and this created many problems for Logan when he tried to cut away the more human aspects of himself. As much as he could limit himself and forcibly stop any unneeded behaviors, Logan knew all too well that he had those thoughts and desires to do more, to live, to improve. He was created with human ambition and it didn’t appreciate being locked away so that his function could dominate over his existence. 

Logan wanted, Logan cared, Logan loved. Logic did not, but Logan couldn’t keep the two separated by force and willpower alone. 

There had to be another way.  

But he was a process, correct? Surely that meant said process could be altered as a whole. 

If he could find the key components - the parts of his design that were causing such resistance - and properly separated them from his function, then maybe he could find success!  

It took much more work than he’d expected to accomplish such a feat, however. 

Assessing the parts of himself that were extraneous and didn’t belong did not take too much time, thankfully, as he’d been long aware of those flaws for years by this point. Desires, impulses, emotions… Those were all parts of Logan, not Logic. 

Then came the evaluation and recontextualization of himself as a process so that he could find a method to make the separation possible. This was the hard part. The more he researched and tried to understand, the less his existence made any sense. It didn’t seem possible to remove any parts at all, let alone only the ones causing problems. 

It was the same problem as before, that he couldn’t just adjust his behavior to fix it, he had to do something more. 

If it wasn’t something he could force his way through, perhaps it was a matter of administrative access instead? 

After all, if Logan was merely a process, and he was being prevented in some way from correcting his own code, surely that meant someone higher up had that access…that someone clearly being Thomas. 

Perhaps he could simply ask? Or at least make Thomas aware of why the situation was dire, how this could benefit him greatly…  

He’d need to make a plan.

Chapter 11: Letting Go

Notes:

Some warnings for this chapter: suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, and negative thinking, with no resolution/happy ending.

It’s all about should.

It’s about what he is supposed to do.

He should be more productive, he was supposed to be reliable. Instead, he was letting them down when he should be helping.

He was supposed to do better, be better.

He should stop bothering them, but he was always complaining, never doing enough to encourage and instruct rather than argue and criticize.

He was supposed to be helpful. But he wasn’t.

He stared down at the inky blackness below. It’d take so long to get to this spot.

He should be gone, but he kept uselessly hanging on. What was he hoping for? Some kind of reveal, something that explained that he’d secretly been helpful all along? That he was somehow more than just a burden to Thomas and the other sides?

That just wasn’t reality. The only thing that could truly help them now was his absence.

This was the only way he could do better by them.

 

He should be gone.

He was supposed to be forgotten.

It was the right thing to do, for them. He needed to do this for them. He needed to leave.

But his grip on the railing wouldn’t let go.

 

He was failing them, the longer he held on like this. They knew he was unreliable, they knew he was a fraud, they knew they couldn’t find any use for him ever again. He had never been of any real use to them.

He was supposed to do this, to benefit them. Make it easier, so there wasn’t some unnecessary variable in all their future plans. If he was gone, they could do so much more, they would be so much happier.

 

He just had to let go…

 

But his hand wouldn’t listen. He stared back as it held tight to the bar, refusing as he silently plead for it to relax, just for a moment, just enough so he could finally do right by them…

He was supposed to do this. He needed to be reliable in this moment. Just let him help them, just this one time!

 

Please!

 

His hand wouldn’t listen. If anything, it seemed to grip the bar tighter, as if to mock him and all his effort.

Why couldn’t he just do something right, for once? He had finally gotten it all figured out, determined the best solution, made it through nearly every step of the plan …only to be stopped by his own uselessness.

Should he even be surprised, though? His failure always came by his own hand, after all. Now it was just a bit more literal this time.

There had to be a way to still make this work, though.

Maybe if he just kept himself leaning away, he’d lose the energy to hold that grip so tightly, and he’d just slip off?

That would be nice. Not exactly as efficient as he’d like, but at least it was doable, right?

He had to do this. He should keep trying, after all. He was supposed to find the solution, and what else was there to do now but to find a workaround?

Mind made up, he waited.

 

He’d make sure he was successful…even if it took longer than necessary. He had to do this. He should do this. He was supposed to do this, no matter what.

Chapter 12: Strength

“Logan?”  

They wanted him to talk again. To explain it again.  What more could he possibly say?  

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been happy.” 

Those weren’t the right words, as honest as they were.  

They shrugged, looking away,  “I mean, I’m sure it wasn’t always like this, but maybe… maybe you’re right? And that’s probably not so bad, right? You don’t have to be happy.”  

Logan distinctly remembered being more satisfied with his role in all of this, though, of that he was certain. But happy? He really couldn’t say. 

At some point, his usefulness fell away, and his ability to reach any sort of satisfaction, let alone happiness, had disappeared. 

But didn’t he deserve to be happy like everyone else? They had all earned that right somehow, hadn’t they? 

Why was he made to be an exception?  

"You’re strong,” they told him, as if he didn’t know, “probably stronger than all of us. You’ve managed this long, so you can keep going, right?”  

Yes, clearly he could, but the point was that he didn’t want to! Why didn’t they understand that? 

He didn’t want to be strong, to be the reliable one all the time. He wanted that chance to break down and to be comforted for it, just this once. 

But he couldn’t. 

Because he was too strong for that, apparently.  

Had he not earned happiness because of this desire to be weak, just one time? Was this why he was made an exception, made an outlier, because he coveted what he didn’t have and looked away from his function, his purpose?  

“What if I can’t keep going?” he asked.  

There was no response for that, likely because the answer was obvious. He would cease to be, if he finally gave up like that, after all. 

He would burden them further than ever before because a new Logic would need to be formed, to take his place, and who knew how long that could take? Hell, maybe it wasn’t even possible with Thomas already in his 30s. There would be so much to learn, it could take ages… 

No, a new Logic would be worse for them than the faulty one they’ve been stuck with all this time.  But maybe that was the last remaining shred of hope in him talking, somehow convinced that he had to be here to do his job, even though his job had long-since been reduced to nothing. What good was he besides being a handy calculator or dictionary once in a while? Thomas would certainly find more use in an actual dictionary than to consult him.  

 

Why did he have to stick around?  

 

Why did he have to keep going?  

 

Why did he have to be strong?  

 

“We need you.”  

 

He almost wanted to laugh at such a ridiculous statement. None of them had needed him for a long, long time. They never wanted to hear what he had to say to begin with, and eventually they had found the best ways to solve their own problems without his help at all. They didn’t require his input on anything anymore, not that they ever did, and Logan was of no use on any of their future prospects. 

What purpose could he possibly serve to them?  He was worthless, wasting their time and space in here. Even if he couldn’t be replaced succinctly, he knew that lie for what it was.  

 

“No,” he replied, knowingly. “You don’t need me at all.”

Chapter 13: Waste

Notes:

Warnings: Negative Thinking

Did he belong here? Or was he just a waste?

The more he wanted to justify his existence, his necessity, the more reasons he seemed to find to argue against it.

Thomas no longer required his expertise, and most knowledge he needed on hand could be obtained through the internet…which he always had in his hand. So where did that leave Logan?

If anything, it was clear Logan’s existence was a waste of Thomas’ brain’s energy, of those resources best allocated to what interested Thomas, not something so unnecessary, so unwanted.

Thomas’ survival needs were handled by Virgil. His morals and social needs were handled by Patton. His desires and motivation were handled by Roman. Janus and Remus seemed to be taking up the mantle on handling Thomas’ mental health.

Whatever Logan could do at this point wouldn’t be a necessity to Thomas. Everything he needed was already being covered.

Anything Logan would be capable of providing would be superfluous, pointless. Why bother trying, it was only a waste of Thomas’ energy, a waste of his time, something he ought not waste on Logan and his pointless ventures, his unneeded ideas.

He was ungrateful.

Thomas had kept him around this long, despite his uselessness in this state, after all this time. He let Logan speak up on issues from time to time, even if he didn’t listen to his recommendations at all.

He was still capable of performing basic tasks, even if they were often more suited to the others these days.

His function still appeared to be needed, even if they had all made it clear how much Logan wasn’t wanted.

Surely, he should be more grateful for that.

But instead, he felt guilty. They didn’t have to keep him here, merely finding excuses in why they shouldn’t do away with him just yet.

It only made him feel trapped, unable to do anything, to be anything. This would always be his existence, until they finally tired of him, until Thomas finally let him go…

He would never be capable of getting better, being better.

Nothing he would ever do would be acceptable. He would never be good enough.

Why did he have to waste their time, their precious energy, when he could give them nothing in return? He wanted to! He tried so desperately to do anything that would mean something for Thomas, something to prove he has some sort of worth, but nothing ever seemed to work.

His ideas weren’t of use to them. His recommendations only caused conflict.

And they didn’t care, they didn’t want to hear it.

They didn’t want him.

Were they just tolerating him then? Did they pity his situation and were only putting up with him until they finally changed their mind on the matter?

Maybe they held out hope he’d be useful again someday, just as he had?

They were in for a lot of disappointment then, he supposed.

He’d tried everything he could think up, every little idea that he could form into an actionable plan. But not a single one had worked, nothing had ever seemed to change anyone’s mind about him. He was still wasting their space. He still hadn’t earned a right to be there.

They were still tolerating his existence, doing their best to ignore him all the while.

He didn’t blame them. It was understandable.

Were they expecting him to leave of his own accord by now? Perhaps it was just too awkward to say it outright? It sure seemed like he’d overstayed his welcome.

But they’d say something, wouldn’t they? Even if it was subtle…?

This had gone on for so long by now! They wouldn’t put up with him unless it was intentional, or pity, or pure patience.

None of which he’d earned, none of which he’d ever deserve from them.

If he could do it for them, he would. If he could stop his existence, he would. But he knew - he hated that he knew it for certain - that it could only be Thomas’ decision.

Until Thomas made that choice, he was simply stuck, wasting time, wasting space, wasting energy. A waste.

He almost wanted to push things along, give Thomas more than just the suggestion, convince him to get it over with already…but he was a coward.

Beneath everything, he wanted Thomas to be happy - didn’t they all? But Logan wanted to be included in that, as selfish a notion as that was.

He was holding onto hope that should have been long gone by now.

How could he date to hope when he only continued to waste Thomas’ time like this?

He was an obstacle, a barrier, keeping Thomas and the others from satisfaction and happiness, holding them back from what they deserved.

He was awful for doing that, no matter the reason.

No matter the excuses he tried to find, the real reason why he would always fail to be useful was far too clear, clearer than all else…

Because he was a waste.

Chapter 14: Pain

Notes:

Warnings: This entire fic is about self-harm (cutting, specifically), there is also some negative thinking and mild suicidal thoughts.

The pain wouldn’t stay. 

It didn’t matter how many times he scraped and cut away at the skin, starting in even and crisp lines and expecting something useful in return. As he continued, he only ever found himself growing impatient with the lack of results, eventually switching to erratic and messy overlaid lines instead, scratching and scraping on top of each other, blood dotting along and spilling at all angles. 

Every time, it only hurt for a mere moment and then it was gone. 

It was never enough. 

Logan wasn’t even supposed to be doing this - it was such an unhealthy coping mechanism and was proven not to serve any purpose; he already knew there were far better ways to handle this feeling, how to obtain the results he truly wanted, but… Well, nothing else had worked. And, surely, if so many people out there used such a method, that meant it was doing something to help them, right? 

And yet, the pain disappeared as soon as it arrived. He couldn’t even have that. 

This was hardly worth the effort.  

He tried and tried again, he had far too much spare time these days in which to properly attempt this method. He tried neat then messy, moving locations, trying deeper, trying longer. 

Nothing worked.

It was but a pinch of pain and then it was gone. The blood was the only signifier that he was supposedly doing this correctly. But he could keep cutting into his skin and there was little to no sensation at all, let alone any pain. 

Not even an endorphin response, to make it feel better. No lingering sting, no soreness. It didn’t feel like anything.  

Maybe he was hollow, after all. 

Maybe he really wasn’t capable of feeling emotions. 

Maybe he wasn’t capable of feeling actual pain. 

Perhaps it was simply part of his design, the reason he’s capable of staying so pragmatic all the time and consistently making thought-out decisions.  

Maybe he was meant to be this way.  

He looked down at all the messy, angry lines and the blood staining the towel he’d set beneath him.  Clearly, he hadn’t thought this decision out well enough, if he’d only managed to fail anyway. Or at least in a way that mattered. 

He dabbed and wiped up the blood, pushing harshly at the cuts, hoping it would hurt, but it didn’t. 

Of course it didn’t. It never did.  

Was this meant to be a sign for him to stop? Or was he simply not doing it right? 

Perhaps he needed to try harder, just as with everything else? 

Why couldn’t he just find something that worked? Why couldn’t he share this experience that was apparently so common, so simple, so needed? Must he always be the outlier, unable to have an ounce of understanding for how others live, how others feel, how others are?! 

Why must it be so difficult, why must he be so different?  

He pushed the towel away and started again, trying to cut deeper than last time.  It was probably a lack of effort. That had to be the answer. He was being a coward, he wasn’t doing enough to cause the pain, surely. 

The blood trickled out faster this time, bubbling and catching along the blade - serrated, his preference. The mess would be worth it if he could just feel something - anything. 

The edge of the knife caught against the towel below on his next cut, a constant moving angle, and he jammed the blade into his skin, deeper, deeper. The lines looked misshapen and resentful, anger present in every stroke, juxtaposed against the complete lack of feeling, no matter how desperately he wished that would change. 

The blood from old and new cuts flowed down, further staining the towel. 

Still nothing. 

There was hardly any sensation at all.  

Maybe he was supposed to be grateful for that.   He pulled the blade out, and shoved the towel against the rushing trickle of blood. 

He had made such a mess, and for what? 

Why did he even bother? If it was his fault for not trying hard enough, why didn’t it seem to matter unless he attempted what he knew to be impossible…? And it wasn’t like he hadn’t considered it, but death would bring less pain, there would be no point in motivating his actions, to solve the problems he’d left unresolved for Thomas and everyone, leaving them with problems that were his sole responsibility to fix… 

He couldn’t do that. There wouldn’t be any positive results. And it was unlikely to work any better than this venture, anyway. 

Pointless. 

He glanced down, to see the blood already beginning to dry. He reached out to push at the skin, but still no pain. 

He just wanted the motivation it was supposed to bring him - the reminder to keep going, something to remind him that he was failing and had to do better. 

His mind clearly wasn’t enough on its own in that regard. 

He’d have to find another way. 

Yet again. 

All because of his failure, his mistake, his unnecessary attempts at ill-advised solutions. 

He had to do better, find a better way. Preferably a way that made less of a mess next time. 

Because something had to be able to fix this - fix him.

Chapter 15: Unwanted

Notes:

Warnings: Just some negative thinking

Thomas didn't even want Logan there.   

Stood rigid among the others as the topic dragged on, discussion at a standstill because the rest of them were too busy with a distraction of semantics, Logan stared at Thomas.   

It was clear he didn't care that Logan was there. He hadn't asked for his input... Hell, he hadn't even called on Logan for this discussion, it was Virgil who had done that, summoning him simply because it was bothering him to have Logan absent. 

The moment he opened his mouth to speak, however, he was cut off by everyone, and Thomas had said nothing about it. 

It was as if Logan wasn't there at all, as far as Thomas was concerned. 

If he did speak up again, Thomas wouldn't listen anyway. He never cared for his suggestions, he always dismissed them out of hand.   

The discussion around him grew into argument. He swallowed. At least he wasn't causing it this time...right? 

He glanced around at the others, all looking to each other, so emotional and wrapped up in their defenses. 

Logan didn't matter to them, either, of course.   

He knew that. He had often questioned it... Well, he hoped, perhaps, that they did, once upon a time, but no longer. He knew the truth and he had since accepted it.   

They didn't want Logan there.

Chapter 16: A Necessary Proposal

Notes:

This one's dialogue has been sitting in my phone too long, so just have this.
Warnings: unreliable narrator, negative thinking, typical angst

His fully thought-out proposal hadn’t been quite as easily accepted as he’d planned, but he really shouldn’t have been surprised by such outcomes at this point. At least he managed to complete the presentation before the questions flooded in this time.

Logan stood in front of the other sides, all gathered in the commons, neutral expression staunchly in place while the others all looked back at him with a wide variety of expressions, ones Logan had little hope to properly interpret.

“Logan, you can’t be serious,” Virgil sounded exasperated. Logan was unsure if this was from disbelief or irritation, but he’d guess it was the latter.

“I assure you, I am,” he told him plainly.

Patton seemed to stumble over his words, trying and retrying to say something but he didn’t seem to even know what he wanted to say. There seemed to be a squeak or a sob in there, probably. Logan wasn’t sure how to interpret that at all.

Roman, defiant as always, crossed his arms and remarked,

“And you expect us to just carry on without you? I hate to admit it, but I’m pretty sure we do actually need you around.”

Logan glanced his way, having already prepared for the creative side’s exaggerations.

“You are all clearly capable of handling your roles and tasks without my assistance,” he replied. And it was true, he’d witnessed it on many occasions.

Roman’s brow furrowed at his answer and Logan attempted in vain to understand what that could mean. Thinking? Maybe considering Logan’s point?

Roman didn’t stay quiet long, however, and eventually just sighed dramatically, stating,

“I mean, roles? Sure. I can get Thomas to land any role he wants, yeah? Get him to work his little tush off memorizing every line and playing that part the way it was meant to be played!”

He posed his arms in a way that Logan assumed would be uncomfortable, but Roman only continued,

“But if you don’t remind him to set his alarm or tell him the directions to get to the theatre for the audition, then all my work is for nothing!”

Logan rolled his eyes.

“Any one of you could give reminders. And Thomas has a functional GPS on his phone for directions,” he explained. “There’s very little reason for my participation.”

Patton seemed to finally find his words, tripping forward for a moment and exclaiming,

“But…but we’ve been over this before! We’re all important to Thomas!”

Logan nodded.

“Indeed, you are all very important.”

Patton frowned. Logan could easily guess what that meant – disappointment.

“Logan…” Patton whined, but he didn’t argue further.

Logan could see the matching looks of discontent on the others’ faces. He’d thought his proposal would properly lay out everything they’d need to know about his decision in this matter, but clearly he’d been wrong. Perhaps he just needed to explain in a bit more detail…

“It’s not as though I intend to leave him without logical functionality,” he reassured them. “But to make adequate room for all necessary parties, it may be best that I stay out of the way. You all have a lot to contribute, and you deserve to be heard.”

“So do you!” Virgil rebutted, gesturing directly at him.

Logan glanced down at Virgil’s outstretched hands. He’d genuinely thought this proposal would go over much more smoothly with the other sides, but it seemed he underestimated this group’s innate desire to argue trivial points.

He tried again.

“…this is to best benefit Thomas, as well as all of you.”

Virgil only appeared angered at this addition.

“I don’t get how you being gone is meant to be a good thing for anyone, Logan.”

“I will not be gone,” he corrected him. “In fact, I’ll make sure my door is always unlocked and I am always available for any questions should the need arise.”

Patton put a hand to his head, as though in pain. Was he in pain? That was an unforeseen outcome from all of this.

“…I just. I don’t understand,” was all that Patton said.

Logan nodded,

"I know, and that’s alright.”


“Is this what you want, Logan?”

Logan looked over. Finally, Janus had spoken up, after standing there silently and merely observing the lot of them this whole time. Logan had guessed that Janus would wait to give any input, as he so often does, so this must have been that moment.

Logan answered genuinely.

“Yes.”

Janus tilted his head to the side a bit, eyeing him oddly.

“Are you sure about that? You seem hesitant in your answer.”

“Yes,” Logan reiterated. “As I said earlier, this is to benefit Thomas.”

“But does it benefit you?”

Logan tried not to change his expression at such a question. This definitely wasn’t the direction the presentation was meant to go.

He tried answering as briefly as possible.

“Well, it doesn’t…have…to.” Not his best work, but close enough. “With my absence, I can create more comfortability for all of you to–”

“How does that benefit you?” Janus cut him off.

At least Logan was used to that happening by now. But it still wasn’t a question he’d anticipated.

He tried to come up with something acceptable to say, but there wasn’t an adequate answer to give, so he simply didn’t respond.

Patton glanced over at Janus, another unreadable expression on his face.

“…Janus?” he questioned, as though he’d get an answer.

Janus kept his gaze focused directly on Logan, carrying on.

“You said you’d answer our questions, so I’m asking. How does this plan of yours benefit you?”

His words sounded casual and curious, but Logan knew he was only disguising them that way. He may not have known what Janus was truly getting at, but at least he could see it was a lie.

Unfortunately, that knowledge didn’t help him answer the question. He’d have to come up with something.

“There is benefit…” he tried. “It’s just… difficult to explain.”

Janus kept his eyes on him.

“Try.”

Logan swallowed. He really should have known he’d get these kinds of questions from his proposal, but he’d genuinely believed the others would be more accepting of the decision, especially once he explained the benefits for Thomas. He’d even laid out how all their usual tasks would still be accomplished, if not improved. Surely they would understand, right?

Logan straightened his back even more. He just needed to answer these questions for the sake of understanding his reasoning, right? He could do that. They deserved to understand, and it was his job to help in that exact regard, after all.

He finally responded,

“There’s… It is easier to conduct my work from afar,” he explained in earnest. “The necessary work for Thomas, that is. I can administer instructions without direct involvement with him or any of you.”

Janus didn’t even blink, his eyes boring into him as he spoke.

“Why?” Janus asked, his voice sounding somehow more fierce, more determined.

Logan was thrown off a bit by his tone, unsure what that could mean.

“…why?” he repeated.

“Why is that easier?” Janus clarified, again his tone sounded…angry? Distressed? Logan really couldn’t be sure. He was never sure.

But at least this was a simple question to answer.

“Thomas takes it into consideration quicker if I’m not the one who–”

“Why is it easier for you, Logan?” Janus cut in again.

Logan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the irrelevant question.

“I just said, Thomas takes it into consideration.”

Janus clapped his hands together, the gloves muffling the sound, the tips of his fingers touching his lips as he inhaled sharply.

Logan had already started to give up on interpreting these odd expressions and behaviors.

Janus sighed and went right back to his questioning.

“So, it’s only easier because Thomas listens that way? Why does he only listen if you’re not around?”

Logan blinked.

“I…don’t know.”

In fact, he hadn’t even really considered WHY that was the case. He just knew that it was.

Janus crossed his arms, looking more annoyed now. Logan knew that particular expression well enough by now, as all the different sides shared it, especially when speaking with him.

“Have you asked him?” Janus raised an eyebrow.

Logan finally glanced away from the constant gaze that was on him. He hoped he didn’t look as uncomfortable as he felt.

“No,” he told him. “I doubt Thomas knows why, either.”

“So the only reason you want to do this is because it lets Thomas listen to you?”

“No,” Logan replied instantly, trying not to sound defensive. This wasn’t even ABOUT him, and especially not about Thomas refusing to listen to him! Why would that be their first assumption??

Janus waited, likely to see if Logan would elaborate but he didn’t. He shouldn’t need to, either.

“Then what’s the other reason?” he asked.

Well. Shit. Logan tried to school his expression to stay neutral, but he knew he’d floundered at his own slip-up just then.

He couldn’t help but glance around at the others, who all seemed to be looking between him and Janus in mostly confusion. Probably. That was another expression he was relatively familiar with, after all.

Janus clicked his tongue, dragging Logan’s attention back to him.

“You just said that wasn’t the only reason,” he remarked. “So, what else is there?”

Well, he certainly couldn’t respond to that. There were several reasons, sure, but none of that mattered in getting them to understand his decision. Yet, now the other sides were all looking at him expectedly, all because of these incessant questions.

"Logan?” Virgil spoke up. Yet another question with no answer.

Maybe that was what Janus was trying to do…

Logan turned back to Janus, hoping he didn’t portray any anger in his realization.

“You are trying to make this about me, Janus, but this isn’t about me.” He responded coldly. “Yes, it would be better if Thomas listened, for his own survival and betterment, but we are all well aware that such concepts rank low among his priorities.

And that is alright! He has big aspirations and a lot of emotional turmoil to attend to, so it’s understandable that the rest is pushed aside.”

He crossed his arms, looking pointedly at both Janus and Remus.

“However, he is at a current juncture where he needs to give more time and energy towards self-preservation and expanding his imagination, and so, I am giving him the room he needs to do that by removing that which he already finds… extraneous.”

Remus grimaced at him from over Janus’ shoulder.

“So it’s our fault then?”

“I did not say that,” Logan replied. “You are all very important and necessary to Thomas. I am not. So, I am doing what I can to make up for it.”

Janus’ eyes narrowed at him, some sort of clear emotion was definitely there if Logan could be bothered to try and figure it out.

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Janus took a step forward, “That you’re the only one getting shoved aside in all this?”

Logan kept his gaze steady, not intimidated in the slightest.

“This is a plan of my own design, Janus. I don’t see why I’d have any qualms with its execution.”

And he didn’t – have any qualms, that is. If it were for Thomas’ benefit, if it made his life better, he’d do whatever it took. He wasn’t about to argue against his own decision, after all.

“And the only reasons are because Thomas listens more when you’re not around and because you think you need to make room for Remus and I to contribute whatever we have to say?” Janus continued.

Finally, they were starting to understand.

“Yes,” he told him.

Janus laughed, insincere as ever.

“Now, why don’t I believe that?”

Logan frowned.

“I wouldn’t know, but I can assure you, this will be to great benefit for all of you and Thomas.”

He didn’t understand how they couldn’t see why this was a good idea. The pros far outweighed the minimal cons, they would not be hindered by his absence, it all was meant to help all of them. Why couldn’t they just see that?

Janus was still staring at him, with an odd look in his eye. It was very unlikely he’d know what that could be.

“May I ask how you came to that conclusion?”

Logan crossed his arms, getting tired of this constant go-around.

“You have a lot of questions today, Janus.”

The other side only smiled.

“Do you have an answer?”

Of course he had an answer, he just didn’t want to give it. But, if they all needed more information before they could truly understand his decision, then so be it. He could indulge…but only a little bit.

“…I’ve been…conducting research for quite some time,” he started. “Tested some hypotheses, found the conclusion with the best results. That is all.”

“May I ask what these hypotheses were?”

Janus continued to smile. It was irritating to see, but Logan quashed the feeling down. None of that was necessary here. He simply needed to answer these inquiries and be done with it.

“…I would think it obvious, but sure,” he responded. “I was theorizing my purpose among all of us as sides and if Thomas responded better to my participation or …others impersonating me…or my absence with simple influence instead.”

“And you found this to be the best option?” Janus asked.

“Yes.”

Obviously.

“Well, then I guess I have no further questions,” Janus concluded, that smile still present.

Logan took a breath. Thank goodness that was over.

Janus turned around, as though he was going to walk away, if that somehow meant he could walk through Remus, who was still standing behind him. Odd, but Logan wasn’t going to interpret that, either.

But then he turned back,

“Oh wait, I do have one more!”

Logan grumbled,

“What?”

Janus turned back around, stepping towards Logan again.

“Well, you see, your mention of experiments got me wondering…” he said, and then pointed back over his shoulder, “I’ve seen Remus over here get all kinds of riled up doing little experiments of his own, so I have to ask…

How did it feel doing that research, Logan? What feelings came about once you got to that conclusion?”

Logan didn’t bother to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Janus was back to the inane questions, it seemed.

“…I don’t feel, so there were none,” he replied.

Janus looked surprised.

“Really?” he responded incredulously. “You found out that Thomas is better off without you, and you were just fine with that?”

Logan’s eye twitched involuntarily. The irritation was back.

“Yes.”

Janus stepped forward again, leaning more to the side while still eyeing Logan in that weird way.

“I mean, I think I’d be devastated,” he told him. “I took a lot of measures myself to get Thomas to finally listen to me, but you were perfectly fine just rolling over and letting him treat you like that?”

Logan wasn’t even sure how to interpret this line of questioning. All this meeting had meant to be was a simple proposal, maybe a quick Q&A session, and then he’d return to his room, never to exit again. This was supposed to be uncomplicated, easy. But Janus was making it into an interrogation of sorts, and he had no idea why.

“…yes,” he finally replied. It didn’t matter what this was meant to be at this point. Janus had managed to take control of the conversation. There was little else he could do but answer the questions until they finally stopped being asked.

Janus, now on a roll, just kept going.

“It really didn’t bother you in the slightest? You’re not upset that you serve no purpose here? That you did all that work for nothing? Thomas made you to be a part of this group but he doesn’t actually want you here?” he stepped forward again, this time far too close for comfort. “That doesn’t make you angry, not even a little bit?”

Well, this was just getting ridiculous. If the only reason Janus was asking him all these questions was to get a rise out of him, he should have just shot down his initial line of irrelevant questions earlier. So much for camaraderie.

“Your leading questions won’t accomplish anything, Janus,” he told him. “You already know I don’t have feelings.”

And that these questions won’t get the result he apparently was fishing to find.

Janus leaned back,

“Are you sure? You seem rather frustrated right now.”

Logan sighed quietly. This was absurd.

“I can assure you, I’m not.”

Janus turned on his heel and walked away again. Logan took a second to glance at the other sides, only to see they all looked both concerned and uncomfortable. Well, they certainly weren’t the only ones…

“And you’ve never been frustrated before? Not even once?” Janus continued.

Logan ignored the burning sensation in the back of his throat.

“I have not felt emotions,” he told him frankly.

Janus looked back over his shoulder at him.

“Then how would you know?”

Logan furrowed his brow, confused.

“…what?”

Janus crossed his arms, his expression having changed again in a way Logan couldn’t hope to recognize.

“Well,” he said, “if you’ve never felt emotions then how would know if you’re frustrated or not?”

Logan paused. While an intriguing but albeit pointless question, this was really neither the time nor place for such a discussion. To end this quickly, he gave a concise and simple answer instead.

“…it’s not as though one needs to experience something to know the truth behind it. Thomas doesn’t need to place his hand on a burning stove to determine it would be hot, for example.”

“Would he know what heartache feels like if he hasn’t lived it, though?” Janus immediately asked in response.

Logan sighed.

“…how is that comparable?”

“Would he know what satisfaction is without experiencing a positive outcome after working so hard to finally achieve it?” Janus continued. “Or betrayal if he’s never had someone go out of their way to work against him?”

Clearly this discussion was happening anyway, despite his efforts. While he’d realized Janus took control of the conversation earlier as a means to distract him and make this about something else entirely, he only just now remember that he hadn’t yet bothered to reign it back in.

He’d just have to try his best to get this to finally end.

“I fail to see the point you’re trying to make with this line of questioning,” he told Janus, getting right to the matter.

Janus smiled that perturbing smile again and Logan tried not grimace in return.

“How do you know if you’re frustrated or not, Logan? If you don’t have feelings, how do you know?”

The second Logan opened his mouth, it became much harder to ignore the burning sensation that kept creeping its way up his throat.

He swallowed around it as best he could.

“I… I just, I don’t. I…” he wasn’t really sure what he could say. He certainly couldn’t say what he wanted to, either.

“You don’t know?” Janus supplied.

Logan took a deep breath and looked away from Janus’ obnoxious grin.

“Unfortunately, there are quite a few things I do not know,” he explained. “But I intend to still offer as much assistance as I possibly can, for all of you. If…if you need it, that is.”

Janus didn’t stop, though.

“…and if we don’t?” he asked.

“Janus!” Patton whisper-shouted.

Logan hesitated and ultimately chose not to look at the other sides, hoping it’d make things easier.

“…well, then, that’s understandable,” he responded. “I’m well aware by now that I am unneeded.”

When the next few seconds were left empty, no more questions instantly being asked, he couldn’t help but give his own.

“Are we done with the questions now?”

This only seemed to upset Patton, though, and he whined,

“Logan—"

“Are we done with the questions now?” Logan repeated sharply, careful not to raise his voice in his desperation.

Patton backed down, glancing around at the others, who all remained quiet, even Janus.

“…I guess?” he finally replied.

Logan nodded, grateful. He didn’t feel relief, though, as he never felt anything, of course, except that hot burning at the back of his throat that refused to go away.

“Good. I’ll be in my room.”

He didn’t wait for anyone to change their mind and come with even more unnecessary questions he didn’t want to answer.

The last thing he heard as he sank out back to his room was someone shouting at Janus for answers instead, ones he knew the other side likely didn’t have.

At least all the questions were finally over, meaning he could start what he had just proposed - to keep out of everyone’s way.

And, if he was lucky, it’d be permanent.

Chapter 17: Superfluous

Summary:

Warnings: typical angst, mild language

If he didn’t know any better, Logan would say he’s unneeded.

He did know better, but that didn’t seem to matter to anyone else.

First, it was the ignoring of his advice and suggestions, then the clear indication that he wasn’t welcome unless he provided something of value to the others on the spot, and now… well, now there was nothing. His function had started to fall apart, each day passing by without Thomas’ needs being fully met, all because his Logic wasn’t at the table to contribute.

He wanted to blame Thomas, he wanted to blame the other sides, but he knew he couldn’t.

It wasn’t their fault, and he knew it.

He was the one failing them, not the other way around.

They were all here for a reason - to do a job, to benefit Thomas - and, save for Logan, they all managed to get by just fine.

So what was Logan’s excuse? There wasn’t one.

It took some time to realize what had happened, but he’d become useless.

He was there to serve a purpose, to guide Thomas, to educate and remind, to instill confidence in his own knowledge - but it’d been years since he’d managed to do just that.

It was an odd sensation, realizing he hadn’t had an intellectually stimulating conversation in far too long. Something flared up when he couldn’t convince Thomas to stop with the “doom-scrolling,” or so it was called. The more he seemed to be pushed away, the less he seemed to be able to contribute, until he wasn’t able to get most of his usual daily tasks done.

And Thomas was clearly worse off for it.

Meanwhile, Logan could tell that the others weren’t having such problems. They were able to keep going, like the path ahead was almost entirely clear of obstacles.

But, Logan, for whatever reason, couldn’t find the way through like they had.

No matter what he tried, he couldn’t make any crucial change happen. Sure, he’d had a lot of push-back before, and he’d had to puzzle out some rough spots through the years, but now it was if he was expected to do the impossible every day.

And he knew he couldn’t just keep pushing at this impenetrable wall, expecting it to move or break. It was futile, hopeless.

He wasn’t meant to feel disappointed or run-down over this, either, as feelings had no place in this mess. Really, it was just another fault of his own, being bothered by the way the world worked.

He needed to be grateful for the role he’d been given, satisfied with the chances that he had…but he wasn’t. And that was absolutely his own fault, no one else’s. He knew that.

And that was okay.

These ridiculous desires to have discussions, to participate in their gatherings, to feel included among the others... He needed to be rid of these unnecessary feelings. He wasn't supposed to have these, he wasn't meant to perform this function while also being so... so biased.

Then again, he hadn’t been able to perform his function much at all as it were.

All he’d managed to do lately was cause issues for everyone, especially Thomas.

He had tried so hard to get a better handle on things, especially once it was clear how badly everything had started to degrade.

It was all about control, keeping things in line. So why were there always mistakes, so many slip-ups, every single time? Why did he keep failing, no matter what he tried?

After enough time, it seemed as though he hadn’t even been trying, considering how little progress he’d made, but he had! He'd been trying as hard as he knew to, in fact! Was he doing something wrong this whole time? Was there something he was missing?

Whatever it was, it was keeping him from doing his job properly for Thomas, causing suffering for no reason, difficulty for everyone around him. They didn’t deserve that from him.

He’d tried thinking about it differently, to see the problem from a new angle.

The mind was a complex system, meant to work smoothly - each piece whirling on like a well-oiled machine, every cog snug in its proper place, every wheel turning at its proper pace, every movement precise and planned.

It was all meant to mesh together, to flow in harmony...

But Logan’s damn rusty spindle kept stalling, fucking up the whole operation! He was ruining everything for them, especially for Thomas.

Most likely, the piece didn't actually belong there, if it ever did. He guessed it was stalling everything because it wasn't designed to fit in its spot correctly, not necessarily that it was faulty or broken.

He'd checked. He’d checked repeatedly.

It really was functioning just fine, but... it was clearly designed for an older system, one that catered to straight lines and narrowed edges, not all these wide flowing movements and creative turns and curves. It stood out, as if it truly didn’t belong at all.

The other pieces had all adapted to their new environment perfectly, they worked exactly as intended. But Logan's? It just kept getting caught on every unfamiliar turn and crevice.

His piece probably worked just fine in the past, but it clearly didn't anymore.

It wasn't needed in the current system, that was for sure.

Superfluous. Just an extra piece getting caught in the gears of an otherwise perfect operation.

It really just needed to be removed. It was the only solution that made sense.

---

"What's that scary look on your face for?"

Logan snapped his eyes up from the coffee in his hands to see Remus had appeared in the kitchen, his smirk ever-present as always.

He sighed,

"Apologies, I was merely thinking through a concept of sorts."

"Sounds interesting,” Remus leaned over the chair across from him. “Care to share?"

"Not particularly,” Logan responded.

Remus only continued to smirk at him.

"I like you, Lolo,” he told him. “You always tell it like it is."

Logan regretted his own honesty at times, but at least someone didn’t seem to mind. Perhaps he should have been more grateful for that.

He took another sip of his coffee, thinking on how to respond.

"As do you,” he finally settled on. “So I suppose I appreciate you, as well, in that regard."

Remus smiled wide, pulling the chair out from the table, only to take a seat on the table itself instead.

Logan’s expression remained unchanged, but he did pull his mug closer.

Remus glanced down at him,

"Well look at us being so chummy... Mmm. You know what else is chummy?"

Logan tried not to grimace.

"I don't,” he replied flatly, looking forward instead of at his unwelcome guest. “Is this conversation over now? I have other matters to which I need to attend--"

Remus leaned down closer to Logan, getting right into his face.

"All I was going to say was... There's a solution you're not considering. A fun one, at that."

Logan blinked, unsure if he should move back or if Remus would do so on his own. He also wasn’t sure how he could possibly know what he’d been considering just moments ago, though maybe that wasn’t as surprising as it should be.

"I'm not sure what it is you're referring to, but--"

"Leaving isn't gonna fix this mess. It'll only get worse with you gone. You know that."

Remus leaned away, his expression completely different than before. Logan couldn’t discern what that could possibly mean, but he wasn’t sure if it held any decipherable meaning in the first place.

He just looked down at his coffee again, now feeling almost dizzy.

"...yes, I do know that,” he said quietly.

Remus began tapping at his chin in thought.

"So…” he continued, “there are other, better options! Why not do one of those? I'm quite partial to the idea of just going ballistic, but hey, it's your choice, really!"

Logan rolled his eyes with minimal effort.

"It is indeed my choice, Remus,” he told him. “So I will not take anyone's suggestions on the matter."

"Aw, come on!” Remus pouted, because of course he did. “You can tell your ol’ pal what you've got loaded in the chamber, can't ya?"

"No,” Logan replied firmly, “because there's nothing to tell. There is no plan. My choice is to not make one."

Remus huffed and jumped back down from the table.

"...well, where's the fun in that?" He asked, arms out.

Logan glared.

"It's not meant to be fun."

"Then what the goddamn point?!” Remus argued. “You just sit here being miserable forever??"

Logan glanced away.

"Most likely."

He knew he was right, though. There was little else that could be done, especially at this point. If that meant he alone suffered while the rest carried on, then so be it.

Remus just sighed, sounding aggravated.

"Well, that's stupid,” he said. “If you have to be miserable anyway, why not at least say what's on your mind? Give Thomas what for!"

He held up a triumphant fist, smirking over at Logan, like he expected him to agree.

Logan would do no such thing.

"That...would only make things worse for everyone."

Remus let his arms fall to his sides.

"Well, what do you care? If you're gonna leave anyway, it's not like it'll matter, right? Why not fuck ‘em up on your way out?"

Logan sighed.

"...I mean, I don't want to hurt anyone."

How could he ever want that? He supposed it figured Remus of all the sides wouldn’t understand that…

"Sticks and stones, man,” Remus remarked dismissively, just as Logan predicted. “They'll survive you throwing out some sharp words. But if you're interested, I could gladly get you some sharp implements instead--"

"Why would I want to hurt them?!" Logan shouted. Sure, Remus didn’t understand, but why would he ever think Logan would even consider it?

Remus just shrugged, as if the answer was easy.

"...I mean, it only seems fair,” he said.

Logan sighed, leaning forward to put his head in his hands.

"Nothing about this is fair."

"Exactly!” Remus piped up, “So give it all you got in one last massive punch--"

Logan grumbled to himself,

"I'm not going to--"

"So they know precisely how much you've been hurt first! It's not like there will be consequences if you're gonna leave right after... Right?"

Logan looked up again.

"Well... There could be--"

"Not for you,” Remus smiled.

Logan hated when Remus used bare minimum logic in an argument.

"Well, no,” he tried, “but for them--"

"What's a butt for?” Remus smiled even wider, if possible.

Logan closed his eyes, nearly defeated. He also hated when Remus pulled childish nonsense for no reason in an argument, too.

"Remus--"

The other side twirled around, laughing.

"Close, but it's actually for pooping!"

Logan sighed.

"Great. Lovely conversation today,” he remarked as he stood up from the table. “I think I'll be going now."

Remus rushed over to lean on the table, blocking Logan’s exit.

"I just say...consider it,” he said in a serious tone despite his usual smirk. “You've got options."

Logan said nothing. He pushed past him and made his way back upstairs.

---

Removal was a tricky thing.

The exit wasn’t exactly accessible, after all.

It felt akin to being a desperate prisoner, digging at the floor of their cell with nothing but a plastic spoon. They could work at it for months, even years, but still, they’d have absolutely nothing to show for it, save for a worn-down and broken spoon.

But every piece of viable advice out there simply stated to keep digging, don't ever stop. If he second-guessed and tried to start again in a new spot, all the progress (of which there was none) would have been lost. He had no choice but to keep going, to simply watch as no progress was ever made.

Stopping wouldn't do anything but make him feel lazy. He’d only be more useless than he already managed to be, trying such a method of escape.

But what else could be done? To not try would be awful, but trying would yield the same lack of results.

Was he simply destined to always be a complete failure? Was there really nothing he could contribute - anything that could help others…?

If he couldn’t get out, couldn’t remove himself, then he’d only continue to make things worse for everyone.

But…did he have to stop confining himself to that which only allowed himself to suffer?

If it meant a better environment for everyone, could he be selfish, just one time, to finally accomplish what needed to be done?

Did he really have more options, as someone so kindly suggested?

Maybe he had more to consider, after all.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of A Dissertation of the Metaphysical Center by Logan Sanders, a series