Fandom(s): Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, YouTube, Marina and the Diamonds, Bands, Music

Warnings: Self-doubt, self-deprecation, self-hatred, smoking, facades, fighting, yelling, self-destructive behavior, self-harm, food mention, trouble with emotions, touch starvation, sleep deprivation, delusions

Ship(s): Romantic Logince, Platonic Analogical, and Platonic Logicality

THIS FIC CONTAINS EXTREMELY TRIGGERING CONTENT PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION

You've been acting awful tough lately
Smoking a lot of cigarettes lately
But inside, you're just a little baby

Logan stared for a moment at the cigarette he'd conjured, his stomach churning. This was really quite unhealthy, but...he'd tried everything else, and nothing had worked. Closing his eyes, Logan conjured a lighter and lit the cigarette. The taste was very unpleasant, but something about the motion of smoking, the repetitive actions of doing it, was very relaxing. He was glad the initial "buzz", as it was called, from the first time he ever smoked was no longer present.

Sighing softly, Logan pulled his ashtray closer and turned back to his back to his paperwork and plannings. He needed to get this done, or Thomas wouldn't be able to get anything done in time like Logan wanted to. Like all of the others wanted to. Logan smiled a bit, pleased that he had finally found something that he could be proud of. he was mature, a hard worker. Even if it wasn't much, it was...great. He was great. Or, he could be great, if he really tried.

Logan stared at the papers in front of him. Sure, the cigarette was helping to keep him from freaking out or falling asleep, but would it be enough? What if Logan didn't finish everything in time? He would fail at his job, and then Thomas, Patton, Virgil, and Roman would see how useless he was. Logan groaned and rested his head on his arms, shoulders shaking slightly. He put out the cigarette in the ashtray (it wasn't really helping, and if he needed a new one, he could conjure it).

"Stop being a baby, you are a full. Grown. Man," Logan growled to himself as something he forgot the name of (what were they called? Tears?) began welling up in his eyes. He wiped at them desperately. He was Logic, he was not Morality, or Anxiety, or whatever the heck Roman was, he should not be having these sensations. He did not have those icky feelings the other three sides seemed to gush about so often with Thomas. He was practically a robot, and proud of it. Feelings, they got in the way of everything. He was better off without them.

So, Logan conjured up another cigarette and lighter. He practically groaned with relief as the familiar feeling of relaxation flooded his body. It was such a blissful, wonderful feeling that only nicotine could make him experience. Logan had no feelings, after all. The very notion was preposterous.

It's okay to say you've got a weak spot
You don't always have to be on top
Better to be hated
Than loved loved loved for what you're not

"I'm not weak. I'm not weak. I'm not weak," Logan whispered repeatedly, staring at his glowing laptop screen and digging his nails into his arm, cigarette clutched tightly between two fingers in his other hand. He had to keep reminding himself of that as he stumbled over plans, struggled to keep deadlines, and messed up. Logic was flawless, Logic was mechanical, Logic was perfection, and he was Logic. He could do this, he just had to concentrate.

"Logan? Buddy? Microsoft Nerd? Are you in there?" Roman said, voice loud and booming on the other side of the door. Logan gasped and quickly swiped his hand, making the thirty some cigarette butts and ashtray disappear, the smoke in his room evaporate, and a new, clean outfit appear on his person. Relaxing a bit, he stood up and answered the door. Roman stood in the hallway, eyes narrow, hands clenched into fists and resting on his hips. Logan swallowed, a strange feeling no, not a feeling I don't have feelings shut up in the pit of his stomach.

"What is it, Roman? I have a lot of work I need to get done for Thomas-"

"Is that cigarette smoke I smell?" Roman asked slowly, eyes narrowed, and he began to step into Logan's room. Logan pushed him backward, heart thudding in his chest a mile a minute. Was he panicking? He was panicking.

"N-No! No smoke in here! Now please leave, I have a lot of work to do!" Logan snapped, actually grabbing Roman by the front of his shirt and shoving him backward. Roman stumbled, a hurt expression on his face. He straightened, returning his big smile to his face, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. Logan felt a sharp, nagging pain in his chest at the sight and felt a sudden urge to apologize, but he bit his tongue and held his words back.

"Surely, you can stop your work for just a moment to join us for a movie or two," Roman said, raising an eyebrow at Logan and smirking a little bit. Logan felt heat creeping up his neck and face and shook his head, puzzled. Roman wanted him with them? That was a surprise. Logan had always thought Roman saw him as nothing but a nuisance. Logan almost smiled, but his face fell quickly. He had too much work to do.

"I...No. I need to work. I-I can't...I need to do my job. Surely, you understand that Roman," Logan said, surprised by the emotional crack in his voice.

You'll fail. You'll if you don't get it done. You're fucking pathetic. You are a machine. Your only purpose is to work. Work. WORK. WORK!!!! Logan visibly paled, leaning against the doorframe of his room. Where did that come from? he'd felt fine before...why was he thinking like that? Roman blinked and reached out to touch Logan, making the other man flinch, grimacing slightly. Princey sucked in a breath, eyes wide with surprise.

"Logan-"

"Please...Please just go, Roman," Logan muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly and sighing. Roman shot one last look at Logan, eyes filled with concern, before making his way back down the hallway. Logan staggered back of to his desk, collapsing in his chair, eyes stinging persistently behind his glasses. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and turned back to his work, hands trembling violently as he picked up a pen. He wouldn't fail Thomas, not this time. He would prove to all of them that he was useful.

Pathetic. You can't even pick up a pen. You're broken. Logan's eyes were once again filled with that pesky moisture Patton had told him was tears as he bowed his head, letting the small droplets fall to his desk as he quickly got back to work.

You're vulnerable, you're vulnerable
You are not a robot
You're lovable, so lovable
But you're just troubled

Logan's eyes were heavy with sleep as he slowly scrawled across the page, his normally neat, precise handwriting turned to mere chicken scratch. He wasn't getting anything done. He was failing. Tears still made their way steadily down his cheeks but he pretended not to notice them. He needed to get something done. He couldn't fail, he couldn't. If he did....the others would hate him again. As the hours inched on, the hard, gnawing sensation in Logan's stomach grew and grew and grew. He was accomplishing nothing, he was failing Thomas, failing Roman...Logan shuddered at the thought, not really knowing why the thought of Roman being displeased with him terrified him more than anything.

You need to be punished.

"I need to be punished," Logan whispered thickly. Almost mechanically, the logical trait pulled open the top desk of his drawer. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he spotted the pencil sharpener that he had broken about a month ago. It was perfect. With great care, Logan pried the small blade from its plastic confines. He expected to be afraid, or to feel a rush of adrenaline, or hear his heart beating loudly in his ears, but the only thing he felt was...calm. Collected. He traced up and down his unmarked arms with his fingers for a moment, bidding them goodbye, before pressing the blade against his right arm, just below his elbow. Logan let out a choked gasp at the sharp pain.

Yes. Yes. Again! Breathing shakily, Logan continued with his self-appointed punishment. He deserved this. He was a broken, pathetic mess of a person. After what seemed like an eternity Logan finally stopped, staring down at his arm, a mess of bloody lines that stood out like a drop of scarlet ink on a white cloth. His shoulders sagged and he closed his eyes, relishing the way they throbbed, the way tiny droplets of blood slid down his arm and onto the desk.

The blood gave Logan him a much-needed reminder of his humanity. Or, rather, the fact that he was part of a human being. Yes, he represented something flawless and perfect, but Thomas was not flawless and perfect. he could not blame his shortcomings on himself but on the others.

The others who distracted me, who made me flawed and weak and so fucking pathetic-

"No. I'm not pathetic, I'm not," Logan gasped, clutching his chest with his right hand. But he was. he was pathetic. he got angry, got upset, and overreacted, resulting in him doing something sickening in order to distract himself from his failures for just a moment, but it didn't work. Logan screamed in frustration and threw the small blade back into his drawer, searching desperately for something to clean up the blood with.

Guess what I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what I'm not a robot, a robot

In his desperate search, Logan dashed into his bathroom, searching for a towel. Blood continued to drip, drip, drip, and he ran to the sink, turning on the water with shaking hands and washing it off as best as he could. He caught sight of his expression in the mirror and glared at it. Those bags were not supposed to be there. He wasn't supposed to be so pale. He wasn't real, he was fake, he was practically a machine. But then, his gaze turned back to his bleeding arm.

"Machines don't have blood," Logan whispered, and a tired, strained smile forced its way onto his face. "M-Machines don't...they don't have blood!" Logan repeated, beginning to laugh, collapsing to his knees. "They don't they don't they don't!" Logan was practically squealing, hysterical from blood loss, and pain, and confusion.

"Logan? Buddy, are you in here?" Logan scrambled to his feet at the sound of Patton's voice and yanked a towel off of its hanger, wrapping it around his arm and opening the bathroom door just enough to poke his head out. He waved at Patton with his uninjured arm, smiling at the fatherly trait weakly.

"Yeah, right here, Patton. Do you need something?" Logan said, keeping his voice even and his expression blank. Patton shook his head, looking around Logan's room suspiciously.

"No, just checking on you. Haven't seen you in a while," Patton said, somewhat distractedly. He sniffed the air, and Logan's face paled. He pushed open the door and grabbed Patton by the shoulders, turning him around quickly and pushing him towards the door.

"Yes, well, that's nice, but I'm fine and I have a lot of work to finish," Logan said hastily.

"But-!" Patton started to protest.

"Yes, yes, dinner or whatever. I'll come down and grab it later. Goodbye!" Logan quickly said, and he shoved Patton out the door, closing it and locking it up tight. He stared at it for a moment before sighing and burying his head in his hands in shame. He was a monster, wasn't he? He was just rude to Patton, of all people, one of the sweetest people to ever grace the earth with their presence.

You're so pathetic, Logan, the voices hissed again, and this time, he didn't argue.

You've been hanging with the unloved kids
Who you never really liked and you never trusted
But you are so magnetic, you pick up all the pins

"Mind if I light up?" Virgil asked Logan, conjuring up a cigarette out of thin air. Logan's mouth twitched slightly and he produced both a lighter and a cigarette.

"Only if you don't mind me joining you," Logan replied, voice slightly muffled as he put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. Virgil stared at Logan with surprise, but then smiled slightly. he took the lighter from logan and used it to light up his own cigarette.

"When did you start?" Virgil asked, sounding genuinely curious. Logan's stomach turned over. What if Virgil told Patton or Roman? Could he really trust him with this? Logan glanced at Virgil, who took a long drag from his cigarette, released the smoke, and looked back at him expectantly. Well, if Virgil had been doing it, he probably wouldn't tell the others.

"Just a few weeks ago. What about you?" Logan said, turning his attention back to the cigarette. Virgil mumbled something and Logan grunted, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Virgil sighed.

"Since we were fourteen," Virgil said, voice dull. Logan inhaled sharply and coughed as cigarette smoke entered his airway like a harsh rush of water. He coughed into his fist, shaking his head with surprise. Virgil smirked slightly and rolled his eyes.

"What? There are worse things I could be doing, right? Like, I could be getting drunk, or cutting myself, or something like that," Virgil said nonchalantly. Logan's blood ran cold. He glanced at his right arm for a moment, expression pained. Worse things, huh? That's what this was.

"Logan? You okay?" Virgil asked slowly, waving his hand in front of Logan's face. The intelligent trait quickly snapped back to attention.

"I'm alright, Virgil. And I suppose you're right. At least smoking brings temporary peace, and isn't nearly as damaging as other bad habits," Logan replied cautiously, not wanting to give himself away. Virgil hummed in response and leaned against Logan slightly, resting his head on his shoulder. Logan froze, clenching his jaw, looking down at Virgil out of the corner of his eyes. it had been so long since anyone had touched him. He liked it, he decided, and hesitantly rested his head on top of Virgil's. The darker trait smiled a little before putting out his cigarette on his hardwood floor and wrapping an arm around Logan. Logan closed his eyes, gasping softly, a chill rushing through him as Virgil's fingers brushing against the back of his neck on their way to his shoulder.

"I'm glad we're friends," Virgil said quietly. Logan's eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at Virgil, licking his lips and blinking. Virgil...Virgil thought that they were friends?

No, he doesn't. He's just being kind. After everything, you put him through, after insulting him, why on earth would he want to be friends with you? Logan's face fell but he stayed still, too desperate for affection to push Virgil away.

Never committing to anything
You don't pick up the phone when it ring, ring, rings
Don't be so pathetic, just open up and sing

Logan laid on his bed, too tired and weak to even attempt to work. He still felt like nothing had gotten accomplished, but after his recent....session with his pencil sharpener, he wasn't feeling motivated. Nothing could get him to stir, not even Patton coming up to his room with a cup of his favorite tea and some chocolate chip cookies. The smell had made him want to vomit and Patton had quickly left, not wanting Logan's stomach to get upset.

Logan heard a knock at the door and lifted his head slightly, the tiny action draining almost all of his energy. He croaked out a reply that he didn't really understand, and heard the sound of footsteps. Whoever had knocked left. Logan collapsed back down onto the bed, closing his eyes. Maybe...Maybe getting some sleep would be good. Maybe it would help him. Logan's body relaxed and his breathing became slow and even as he drifted off to sleep, chest rising and falling steadily.

NO. WORK. YOU NEED TO WORK! Logan jolted awake and whimpered, flinching at the loud voice in his head. WORK WORK WORK WORK WORK! Logan let out a small sob and curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth slightly, terrified by the thing that had once been his greatest ally: his own mind. He moaned softly and ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it and fisting it as the voices continued to roar in his ears, telling him to stop being so lazy and pathetic and just get to work.

Logan staggered out of bed, body heavy with exhaustion as he toppled over into his chair. He pulled his papers up, searching through the disorganized stack for Thomas' planning sheet. He still had to plan Thomas' week, when he would see his friends, when he would try to upload a new video, everything. It all needed work, and that was logan's job, and he wasn't doing it. So, despite his aching body and fuzzy brain, Logan got to work.

I'm vulnerable, I'm vulnerable
I am not a robot
You're lovable, so lovable
But you're just troubled

Patton, Roman, and Virgil were all surprised as Logan came trudging down the stairs the next norming, staggering with each step, his hair a mess, and his tie undone. Patton bustled over to the counter and quickly poured the logical trait a cup of coffee, smiling softly as he did so. Glancing around nervously, Logan entered the kitchen and took the warm cup gratefully. He held it with both hands as he sipped, relishing in the natural warmth it gave. Logan said nothing as he walked over to the cupboards in search of a granola bar despite the concerned looks he was given from all three of his counterparts.

"Logan," Roman began slowly, "are you alright?" Logan nodded, continuing his search. Roman glanced at Virgil who nodded and gestured at Logan encouragingly. Roman swallowed and stood up, walking behind Logan and placing his hands on his shoulders. Logan stiffened, eyes widening at the unexpected contact.

"Are you sure?" Roman whispered in his ear, hands moving from Logan's shoulders to his hips. Logan shuddered and leaned back against Roman. It felt so nice to get touched by someone in such an affectionate way. Roman's face flickered with concern at the gesture and he wrapped his arms around Logan completely, resting his head on his shoulder.

"Please tell me what's going on. I care- we care about you. We want you to be okay," Roman whispered, his breath tickling Logan's ear. Logan whimpered, closing his eyes and bowing his head. Roman smiled a kissed the back of Logan's head.

"Please tell us, Logan. We...We love you, okay? We want to help you," Patton spoke up from the table, eyes brimming with concerned, guilty tears. Logan's eyes widened and he snapped his head to look at Patton.

"Y-You...You what?" Logan asked, voice hushed, brow furrowed in confusion.

"We love you," Patton repeated, quietly, and Virgil nodded in agreement. Logan opened his mouth to reply, but his words caught in his throat, and all he managed was a choked sob.

Guess what I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what I'm not a robot, a robot

"I-I...I can't do anything anymore," Logan said with a sob, clutching his chest as it was suddenly overcome with a sharp, horrible ache. "I'm...I'm broken. I'm useless. I c-can't...I can't!" And that's when he broke down. Sobs racked Logan's body and tears streamed down his face. Alarmed, Roman spun Logan around to envelop him in a proper embrace, holding onto his shaking body tightly.

"Don't hate me, please, I-I tried to...I tried to work but I couldn't, it was too much," Logan continued between sobs. Patton's eyes were shining with tears and Virgil was staring at the table, eyes wide, face drained of color. None of them had ever seen Logan seem so desperate, so emotional before.

"Please don't cry, Logan. It's going to be okay, I promise," Roman said, rocking back and forth slightly and running his fingers through Logan's hair. Logan's sobs didn't quiet but stopped shaking, and his grip on Roman's shirt loosened slightly. Roman pressed kisses to Logan's cheeks, forehead, and even pressed a small one to his lips. Logan's eyes fluttered and he gasped softly, but quickly shook his head.

"N-No it's not. I'm s...supposed to be perfect, mechanical. I-I don't...I shouldn't feel things, I shouldn't be able to get this upset, I should be able to do my fucking job," Logan growled, self-hatred uncoiling and burning in his chest, writhing and hissing like fiery serpents. Roman cupped Logan's face in his hands, expression determined.

"That's not true. You're human, Logan. You are not a robot," Roman said firmly.

Can you teach me how to feel real
Can you turn my power on
Well, let the drum beat drop

"B-But...they said..." Logan's voice trailed off and his lip began to quiver.

"Who said what?" Roman asked, confused.

"T-The voice...it said I-I'm not good enough unless I'm perfect. I-It said you would all hate me," Logan said, voice breathless, trembling a bit. They were going to think he was insane. They really would hate him now.

"Oh my God, Logan," Virgil spoke, voice cluttered with disbelief. "Why didn't you tell us? How long has this been going on?" he continued, getting to his feet, wanting to join Roman and logan's embrace. Roman shifted slightly so that Virgil could be as close to Logan as possible. Logan didn't answer Virgil's question, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood and remaining silent. Virgil sighed, petting Logan's hair gently. Patton watched the three embracing from the table, dazed.

"That night in your bedroom...I knew something was wrong. I should've said something," Patton whispered, burying his head in his hands in shame.

"No. I's not your fault," Logan said, grimacing. Now Patton was feeling guilty because of him. He was a failure, he couldn't even protect the people he loved-

"Whoa, hey, calm down Logan!" Virgil exclaimed as Logan began to shake again. "It's okay. Everything's okay. From now on, we're going to pay more attention. We're going to help you. Does that sound good?" Virgil continued calmly. Logan's eyelids drooped and he nodded, head still buried in Roman's shoulder. He was finally relaxed. he finally felt peace and calm. He finally felt loved.

Guess what I am not a robot
Guess what I am not a robot

They're lying. They hate you. You're just a machine, a robot. Your purpose is to work. You are pathetic. You are unlovable, the voices hissed, and Logan let out a choked scream, pushing Roman and Virgil away and collapsing to the ground. Roman reached out a hand to touch him and Logan flinched away violently, curling up in a ball on the ground, clamping his hands over his ears.

"I'M NOT A ROBOT!" Logan shouted. Virgil jumped at the loud noise and Roman looked outraged. He bent down, cupping Logan's face in his hands. Logan stared at him, trembling as Roman wiped tears from his cheeks that he didn't know he was shedding. Roman was saying something, but Logan couldn't hear him over the loudness of the voices.

He's telling you how worthless you are. He's telling you that you're nothing more than a machine. He's telling you how pathetic you are. Logan screamed again, kicking out at Roman. Roman didn't move even as Logan's foot knocked him in the chest. Logan was too weak to make any damage, worrying Roman further. If Logan was anything, he definitely wasn't weak.

"Logan, my love, please-" Roman began but was cut off as Logan let out a loud shriek.

Guess what I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what I'm not a robot, a robot

"I'm not a robot!" Logan shrieked, pushing Roman back, eyes blazing. "I'm not! I'm not! I'M NOT!" Logan was screaming now, his voice cracking with every syllable, eyes welling up with tears. He started to tear his hair and claw at his skin as if he was trying to rip himself to shreds.

"I'll show you! I'll show you I'm not!" Logan said, voice high and wheezing. Roman grabbed Logan by the shoulders, tears of his own making their way down his cheeks. He shook Logan gently, trying to get him to see reason, to stop yelling and hurting himself and listen to him.

"I know Logan, I know you're not. You're human, you have feelings, you're beautiful. You're so, so beautiful," Roman declared, voice filled with emotion. Logan still struggled, howling for Roman to let go of him, but Roman wouldn't have it.

"You are not a robot!" Roman said, holding Logan as still as he could. Logan stared at him, chest heaving, flecks of blood on his cheeks and arms where he successfully clawed at his skin hard enough to draw blood.

"I-I'm not a robot," Logan breathed. "I'm not. I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not-" Logan's monotone rambling was cut off as Roman kissed him gently, wrapping his arms around him and rubbing his back gently. Logan's eyes fluttered closed and he before he knew what he was doing, he was kissing Roman back desperately, clinging to his shoulders and pouring out all of his emotions into the lip bruising kiss. When they pulled away, Roman was breathing heavily and Logan was gasping, overwhelmed with the amount of warmth and love that flowed throughout his battered, self-abused frame. He burst into tears and buried his face in Roman's chest.

"Th-Thank you Roman, thank you! I love you!" Logan sobbed, shoulders shaking. Roman ran his fingers through Logan's hair, pressing gentle kisses to the top of his head.

"No need to thank me. I love you too," Roman replied. After a few moments, Logan pulled away, giving Roman the first genuine smile that had stretched across his face in months. Roman smiled back fondly and kissed his nose.

"I'm going to make it better. I promise," Roman whispered lovingly. Logan sniffled softly.

"You already have."