Requested

Ship: Platonic RemyxLogan

Category: Fluff

Warning(s): Mild arguing

Summary: Remy and Logan can help each other, but they need to look past their differences first.

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Logan had been minding his own business when his door was thrown open.

This always happened to him. Whether it be Roman, shouting about his newest idea, or Patton, demanding he come down for breakfast, or even Virgil, in the midst of an anxious breakdown, he always had people barging into his room without permission.

This time, though, he was taken by surprise as Remy stepped inside, sipping from a Starbucks cup and smirking.

"You will not believe what I just heard," Remy drawled, draping himself over Logan's lap and leaving the door open.

"I'm sure I won't," Logan agreed.

"Patton just told me that you use flashcards? For slang words? Oh honey. Ohh honey."

"What?" Logan crossed his arms. "They're helpful."

"Mm. No. Sweetie, if you wanna be cool, you cannot use flashcards. Ju-Just hand 'em over."

Logan sighed, reached into his pocket, and gave Remy the deck of flashcards. Remy inspected them, tipping his sunglasses up to get a better look. He tsk'd a few times, shaking his head, then set them off to the side.

"I'm gonna teach you," Remy announced, jumping up. "First lesson: don't try to construct a full sentence with them. Just pepper 'em in a few times, ya know?"

"I... I don't."

Remy cleared his throat. "Like this: Man, that party was so lit last night! Wanna hang later with the rest of the fam? Ah, gucci bro."

Logan frowned. "That seems a little excessive."

"Okay, maybe it wasn't too realistic, but you get my point."

And surprisingly, Logan did.

Next week, Remy popped into his room, unannounced, and gave him another lesson. And the next week, another. Sometimes, he appeared in the early morning, and other times, at nearly midnight. Each time, he was drinking what might've been pure caffeine from a plastic cup. Logan found himself concerned about Remy's sleep habits. Did he ever sleep? He was the embodiment of sleep after all, so why was he awake all the time? Then again, he was logic, and yet he still got caught up in work for weeks at a time.

One day, when Remy came for the next lesson, Logan closed the door behind him.

"Remy, I find your sleep schedule absolutely horrific," Logan said, hands folded neatly in front of him. "You need to reset your circadian rhythm for optimal performance. You cannot operate on caffeine all the time."

Remy blinked at him. "What?"

"You never sleep!" Logan said indignantly. "And yet you are sleep! I cannot fathom it."

Remy scowled. "You're one to talk, Logic. Staying up all night doing math? Who are you to lecture me?"

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps your problem is getting defensive and refusing to listen to reason. That may be acquitted to your lack of proper rest."

Remy's brown eyes fixed on him with such intensity that Logan almost took a step back. "You don't control me, Logic. You don't get to tell sleep what 'proper rest' is. You don't know anything." And with that, he spun on his heel and fled the room, leaving the door wide open as he went.

The logical side stared at the closed door, stomach twisting unpleasantly. What was this? He couldn't get sick.

Guilt.

Logan gulped.

***

Logan didn't see Remy for the next week. He walked around the Mindscape, peering into various rooms in search of him, but the caffeine-addicted side was nowhere to be found. Eventually, after hours of pointless pacing, he went back to his room and tried to work through some algebra equations. But his usual stress relief wasn't working. He didn't feel any better, and that sick feeling accompanied him everywhere. Thought he loathed to admit he had emotions, he couldn't deny the simple fact that he was worried about his friend.

He tried to distract himself deep into the night, and when he finally mustered up the energy to check the time, he found it was just after 2:00 AM. He frowned, rubbed his hands through his hair, then reached up and loosened his tie.

"And you tried to tell me to sleep," drawled a familiar voice.

Logan spun around to see Remy, leaning in the doorway, and for once, not sipping from a cup. His sunglasses were propped up on his head, and a lazy smile graced his features.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Logan lunged out of his seat and hugged Remy, startling the other side.

"I'm sorry," Logan whispered. His eyes burned. "I'm sorry for upsetting you, I-I didn't me-mean to-"

Remy gently pushed him back, the smile melting away. "Don't be sorry, Logan. You caught me off guard, but I overreacted."

"Wh-Why did you-"

"Shh." Remy stepped inside the tidy room, easing the door closed. "Let me explain." When Logan fell silent, Remy began. "I know I'm sleep, but I... I can't. I am physically incapable of sleeping. I'm not a personality trait, or even a real side like you guys. I'm more of an action, a state of being. Therefore, I'm not like the rest of you. I can't do what I represent, unlike the way you all channel your aspects, I just am. I've tried to sleep. I'm exhausted, all the time." Remy huffed a dry laugh, rubbing his eyes. Only then did Logan notice the bags beneath his eyes, and how pale he was. "I drink caffeine because it makes me less tired, so I don't have to think about being unable to actually sleep."

Logan blinked. "I... I didn't realize. I'm so sorry."

"I've gotten used to it."

After Remy left that night, Logan didn't try to sleep. He rushed to his makeshift library and began combing through the shelves, reading up on every topic he could find about sleep and insomnia. The sun was beginning to peek through the window when he let out a cry of triumph.

"Remy!" Logan announced, swiping his hands up excitedly. Remy rose up in his room with a yelp, clutching his hair indignantly.

"Ow!" Remy cried. "That hurt. What do you need, sugar?"

"I have a solution to your problem!" Logan said, brandishing his notes.

Remy scanned them, eyebrows creased. Eventually, he leaned back. "Do you really think that'll work?"

"It's worth a try."

For the next week, Remy kept a strict schedule of no caffeine, moderate exercise, relaxing activities, no sunglasses inside, and NO CAFFEINE. Whenever he went to sleep, he did it in Patton's room, filled with calming vibes and nostalgic memories. Logan always stayed nearby, taking notes. The first few nights, there was no difference. Remy just laid on his back, staring at the ceiling, wide awake. On the third day, his eyes began to flutter shut, but quickly snapped open again. Remy let out a groan.

"This isn't working, Lo," Remy whined, defeated. "I just can't sleep."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Remy was quiet for a moment. The room was dark, besides the fairy lights strung around the room, casting a warm glow on everything. "Can you read?"

"Read? Like to you?"

"Yeah." Remy's voice was timid, as if he were embarrassed.

"Okay," Logan said, waving his hands. A classic, A Little Princess. "Once on a dark winter's day, when the yellow fog hung so thick and heavy in the streets of London that the lamps were lighted and the shop windows blazed with gas as they do at night, an odd-looking little girl sat in a cab with her father..."

He'd only reached chapter five when he glanced over at Remy, only to find him breathing deeply, eyes closed and a small smile tracing his lips. Logan trailed off, and when Remy didn't stir, he grinned to himself.

"Lit," Logan whispered.

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