#Hate the background *cries and sobs in de corner*

[averykedavra]

i keep to myself (i want to break through)

Uh, hi! It’s been a while. Again. But I’m here to deliver content before vanishing once more! To get back in the writing groove, I brushed off an older story, one I started right after FWSA. I wrote the first few pages, dropped it for months, and now I’ve cobbled together an angsty mess from the remains. Yay! This is also my first time writing c!Thomas’ perspective, so I hope it turned out alright!

(Title is from Prom Dress by mxmtoon. This fic is on Ao3 here!)

Pairings: platonic Logicality and also Thomas

Words: 9937 (i swear this was meant to be short)

Warnings: crying, a detailed description of a panic attack, overthinking and spiraling, anxiety, self-deprecation and self-esteem issues, identity crisis, maybe a bit of disassociation

Thomas should have been excited.

All afternoon, he’d been thrilled. He’d barely remembered to eat dinner. He’d composed sappy tweets and sang Can You Feel the Love Tonight? until his neighbors told him to stop. He’d smiled so much that his face hurt, flapped his hands until they ached, and danced around in dizzy disbelief.

Nico. Nico, who was a poet and who was funny and who had the nicest smile and wanted to meet up again.

Thomas was overjoyed. Thomas was ecstatic. Thomas couldn’t believe this was real, but after pinching himself five times, he’d confirmed it wasn’t a dream.

Nico.

He had a date.

Thomas should be excited.

And he was, and then very abruptly, he wasn’t.

He’d felt it approaching even before dinner. He’d sang louder to drown it out. He’d grinned almost forcibly, dragging his thoughts back on track, thinking this is a good thing until he could almost ignore the creeping numb clouds in the back of his mind.

And his happiness soured. He ran out of energy. He collapsed on the couch, turning on the Parks and Rec bloopers before a voice told him to watch something educational. He turned on a nature channel instead. Swans mated for life. Wild.

Thomas was feeling, slowly, more and more terrible.

He should do something to stop it. He should call a friend, eat some good food, focus on the positives. He could feel himself inching closer to a cliff, and there was still time to turn back, there was still time--

He got up to microwave some pizza. Maybe eating would make him feel better. He’d exercised today. It was fine.

Everything was fine.

Why did he feel so weird? This had been a good day. Maybe one of his best. He’d gone to that mall directionless, and now someone wanted to date him, a lovely someone who made him feel itty bitty butterflies in his chest and sunshine in his heart.

Except for now. Now the butterflies felt soaked in ice, and the sunshine burned through him and made his eyes prickle.

The microwave hummed away and he bounced back and forth waiting for it. Just a minute until pizza, and then pizza and nature channels and a long evening, maybe video games and soda and a friend on the phone. He’d give himself a self-care night. He deserved it.

Thomas waited for the pizza.

The microwave coughed, scraped, and whirred its way along.

It was dark in the kitchen. He ran a hand along the counter. It was so cold and smooth that it felt like he was touching nothing at all. The moon hung low outside the window, accompanied by the ugly yellow glow of streetlights. He’d forgotten to turn on a light in the kitchen.

Thomas shuffled towards the light switch, decided not to bother, and grabbed a plastic plate for the pizza instead. It was one of the bad plates that could reasonably be a frisbee. A chip and dent combo on the edge nicked his fingers. He winced. Maybe he should get another plate.

Nah, why bother? This plate was fine.

The pizza should be done by now, right? It’d been five minutes. Had it?

The TV was playing in the background. Thomas had forgotten to turn it off. That’d waste electricity--why did he always forget stuff, stupid--

Thomas took a deep shuddering breath.

In and out. This was fine. No matter that he could feel tears clustering at the edge of his vision, no matter that his breath struggled in his chest like a living thing, no matter that the kitchen was dark and still and quiet and made him feel like he was drowning.

There was no reason to be upset.

He should be excited.

Ding!

Thomas almost cried in relief, throwing open the microwave. He grabbed the pizza and opened the box.

Frost clustered on the edge of the crust. It needed more time in the microwave. He’d done the wrong amount of minutes.

Of course he had.

Of course he had.

Thomas let the pizza fall, and a swell of tears rose up to meet him. He grabbed the plate and took it back to the couch, which accomplished nothing but he needed to do something, he couldn’t wait in that stupid kitchen for a second longer--

Thomas collapsed on the couch again, and tried to make himself very small in the corner, like his impending breakdown wouldn’t notice him if he hid.

He pressed a hand to his eyes.

“Come on,” he told himself, and his voice didn’t sound like his own. It wavered and was itchy and staticky, grating at his ears. “Come on, get it together, come on--”

His phone beeped.

Someone was texting him.

Oh, no. Now he had to open his eyes, get the phone, text them, be funny and nice when he texted them, help them if they needed help--too many things, and Thomas was frozen, because he’d meant to microwave the pizza, and the TV was still playing and casting shuddering light over his blanket, and the world was dark and there were too many things to do--

Panic.

He was panicking, wasn’t he?

Thomas took a deep breath. And realized he hadn’t done that for almost half a minute. The air was a relief, and he almost cried right then and there, sunk in one dark corner of the couch.

“Virgil,” he forced out. “Virgil, are you--”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He couldn’t find the words. What would Virgil do, anyway? Virgil would just make this worse--that wasn’t nice--he couldn’t breathe--Virgil was clearly not okay, and--

And Thomas was going to cry, and there was no reason for that, and logically speaking he should be fine--

He was terrified.

Logically speaking, he was terrified, because logically speaking, he’d made a huge mistake.

Thomas choked on a sob. He sent out a summons--anyone, please, anyone, Logan or Patton or Virgil or De--Janus. Hell, he’d take Remus at this point, Remus could knock him out so he wouldn’t have to stay in this itchy dark room with a million things colliding and the TV still on and the pizza cold and the lights off and his phone probably blowing up with texts as everyone slowly started to hate him--

“Kiddo?”

Thomas jerked his head up and kicked wildly at the noise.

“Oh! Sorry,” Patton said, his voice soft. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Can you breathe for me, kiddo?”

Thomas took one deep breath.

“That’s great! I’m proud of you. Can you do it again?”

Another deep breath.

“Good job,” Patton said, and Thomas’ vision cleared enough to see tear tracks on his cheeks.

“You--” Thomas started. But he lost his sentence as soon as he found it.

“Shh, don’t try and talk just yet, okay?” Patton’s eyes were achingly sympathetic. “Can I touch you?”

Thomas thought about it. He nodded jerkily.

“Okay. Thanks for telling me.” Patton’s hand slipped into his, warm and soft, reminding Thomas oddly of his actual dad. “Keep breathing, kiddo. You’re doing amazing.”

A simple instruction. One thing. No other things, no other things around him and no past and no future and no friends or family or Nico. Just him. Just Patton. It was dark and still and Thomas had been told what to do.

Thomas kept breathing.

Patton smiled at him, and the snarled mass in Thomas’ chest lessened, bit by bit by bit. He tried not to think. He tried just to see, to see and hear and touch.

What was it Logan taught him?

Five things he could see.

The glow of the TV over the couch. The moon outside the pale window. The blanket over his legs. His hand in Patton’s. Patton’s face, streaked with tears and so incredibly soft.

Four things he could touch.

The couch. His blanket. His clothes. Patton’s hand.

Three things he could hear.

The murmur of the television--the channel had moved on to flamingos, apparently. The rustle of the blanket when he shifted. The hum of the fridge.

Two things he could smell.

That cold pizza. A vague smell of sweat which was probably him, thanks to all the running around from earlier.

One thing he could taste.

Dinner. Chicken pad thai.

Thomas closed his eyes, opened them, and found himself sitting on the couch, watching TV, with Patton holding his hand.

He was here.

He’d always been here.

“It’s okay,” Patton whispered, and Thomas realized he’d been talking this whole time, murmuring words of encouragement. “It’s okay, you’re doing amazing, just let it out.”

Thomas squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

Patton’s face lit up. “No biggie,” he said, “who would I be if I left you on your own?”

Reasonable, Thomas didn’t say. Normal.

“Thank you,” he said instead. “It means a lot.”

Patton gave him a long, unreadable look, before patting his hand and standing up. He looked around and clucked his tongue. “It’s so dark! Wait here, I’ll turn on the lights.”

“I can do it,” Thomas protested.

Patton didn’t roll his eyes, but he huffed a bit, and Thomas sank back into the couch with a sigh. Patton was right. Thomas’ limbs felt like jelly and if he tried to move, he’d probably fall right off the couch.

Patton milled about the room, turning on the kitchen light and the light by the stairway and the lamp behind the TV. When he saw the frozen pizza in the microwave, Thomas braced himself for a chiding. Patton was always critical of his cooking skills. Instead, Patton quietly closed the microwave and punched in several numbers. The microwave whirred to life.

Thomas looked down at the plate on the couch cushion. He picked it up and noticed his hands were shaking. “Do you--”

Patton glanced back. “I’m getting you some water, kiddo. Don’t worry, just get yourself cozy, okay?”

Thomas nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Thanks, buddy.”

“No need to thank me!” Patton sent Thomas a smile that was marred by the tear tracks on his cheek, the redness of his eyes, and--Thomas suddenly realized--the cat hoodie pulled tight around him. He couldn’t remember the last time Patton had worn the hoodie. It must have been when Logan had first given it to him. Right after--

“I’m a part of you,” Patton continued, his voice a softer version of his usual chipper one. “I want to help you, no matter what.”

Thomas leaned further into the couch and pressed on his eyes to stop the tears. Was he really so pathetic to cry over a part of himself wanting to help him? It was Patton’s job. It didn’t mean that Thomas was a good person, it didn’t mean anything, it just meant that his morality didn’t want him panicking in front of a documentary about flamingos.

“Here,” Patton said, and Thomas almost jumped. Patton had reappeared next to the couch. He handed Thomas a glass of water. Thomas tried not to drop it. When he took a sip, he realized his mouth was dry.

“You can sit down,” Thomas offered, after a few seconds of Patton silently standing nearby.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to--” The microwave dinged behind them, and Patton looked relieved. “Be back in a hop, skip, and a jump, kiddo!”

Thomas laughed a bit and continued drinking the water. Soon, Patton placed a warm plate of pizza on the couch next to Thomas. Thomas picked up a slice and caught the melting cheese with his tongue. It was perfectly cooked.

“Thanks,” Thomas said, for the third or fourth time. “This is great, Pat.”

“Aw, shucks, kiddo!” Patton looked proud of himself. “It’s just microwave pizza. And I think we know who’s the better cook--”

Thomas smiled and rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, spare me the lecture.”

For a second, Patton looked ashamed. Then he brushed off his shirt and looked around the room again. “Anything else I can get you, Thomas?”

Thomas inhaled the rest of the pizza slice before responding. Patton looked uncomfortable. Not like he didn’t want to be there--or at least, Thomas hoped not--but like he didn’t know what to do, now that the threat had subsided. Patton shifted from foot to foot, pulled at the sleeves of his hoodie, and had been crying. He’d been upset. He’d helped Thomas anyway. Thomas had the feeling he wasn’t supposed to let this slide. That wasn’t what good people did.

Or maybe it was. Thomas wasn’t sure. He’d ask Patton, but Patton didn’t need another thing on his plate.

Thomas balanced the plate of pizza in one hand and let his tired, impulsive brain take over. “Sit with me?”

Patton looked surprised for a second, then strangely hesitant. “That’s what you want?”

“Of course.” Thomas nodded to the couch cushion next to him. “It wouldn’t be a party without my good old pop star, would it?”

“Yeah.” Patton nodded rapidly, as if trying to convince himself, and then sat tentatively on the couch. He balanced on the edge of it. Like he wanted a quick escape.

“You don’t have to,” Thomas said weakly, doubling back, like he always did. “You--you don’t have to do any of this, if it’s just to be nice.”

Patton smiled a bit. “Just to be nice? What’s just about that?”

“You don’t--” Thomas swallowed and tried to sort through the emotions in his chest. He still felt seconds from crying. Was that Patton’s influence? Virgil’s? Or should Thomas stop blaming his own failures on everyone else? “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, Pat. You don’t have to--go out of your way to help someone, not if it makes you feel bad.”

“But you aren’t someone,” Patton said. “You’re Thomas. You’re my Thomas, and I’m your good old dad.”

Thomas opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn’t know how to explain that Patton wasn’t obligated to be nice to him. He didn’t know how to say that he wasn’t the priority. He didn’t need to be. He could survive with parts of himself hating him--he was pretty sure a few already did.

“I’m your Morality,” Patton said quietly. “And--I know, I know I’ve messed up, I’ve messed things up so much--but please. This is what I can still do for you. This is what I know isn’t--isn’t hurting you.” Patton paused, and Thomas could hear that he was approaching tears, too. “Please let me help you. Please let me have this.”

Thomas bit off the end of a slice of pizza. Then he shoved the plate towards Patton. Patton looked down, took a slice, and nibbled at it. For a while, there was silence.

“Was it you?” Thomas finally asked, hating himself for it. “Did you get--upset? Is that why I--or was it Virgil?”

Patton sighed. “That’s a complicated question, kiddo.”

Thomas decided not to push it. If Patton wanted to talk, he would.

“We’re all parts of you,” Patton finally said. His voice was shaky, but kind, reminding Thomas of kindergarten teachers talking him through his ABCs. His teachers were lovely to him. But Thomas was only their student, and it was only their job. “We all affect what you do, in different degrees, but we also affect each other. We discuss, we collaborate, we--argue. If you combined all of us into one being, it would be you in a way, but it wouldn’t have the same interactions inside? Does that make sense?” Patton groaned. “Ugh, Logan’s such a better teacher.”

“I think I get it,” Thomas said, looking down at the pizza. “The whole is more than the sum of its parts?”

“Yeah!” Patton nodded. “We all work off each other, even when we don’t realize it. So--anything you go through, it’s not because of one of us. Maybe it started from a single side, but nothing’s isolated. Everything goes through all of us.”

“So...you all got upset?” Thomas asked. “Or was it mainly someone, or--”

“It’s complicated.” Patton swallowed. “Janus didn’t have a hand in it, I don’t think, despite all the ones he has. Roman is very excited about Nico, as is Remus, and I doubt they contributed too much.”

Thomas thought about Roman’s face as he watched Nico leave. Another chance at happiness squandered. “I’m not sure about that.”

Patton sunk into himself a bit. “Virgil--he probably added to the attack when it happened, but he didn’t cause it. He’s too happy about Nico.”

“So…” Thomas let the word hang in the air for a while. “Pat--”

“I’m fine,” Patton said.

Thomas raised an eyebrow.

“I am!” Patton protested. His voice cracked in the middle of the sentence. He didn’t seem to be even trying to hide it. “It--it wasn’t just me, it was--”

“You’re my emotions,” Thomas said. “If it wasn’t Virgil, it--”

“It’s more complicated than that.” True as that might be, Patton’s thin voice said otherwise. “I wouldn’t have done that. Everything’s fine. I know everything’s fine. I wouldn’t have made a fuss over nothing!”

Thomas tried to read between the lines. It was easy. Patton, in the end, was just a piece of Thomas--just a volatile, searing mass of emotions in his chest. “But if someone told you things weren’t fine--”

Patton didn’t say anything.

“Or someone…” Thomas swallowed. “Someone tried to convince you that things were.”

“Like I said,” Patton whispered. “It’s complicated.”

Thomas tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. He could barely make it out in the darkness, save for the small pools of light from the lamps around the room. Was that a crack? Maybe so. He didn’t really know anything about ceilings, so he’d have to ask someone else.

“What do we want to do?” Thomas asked the ceiling, and Patton, and everyone else who had decided this was a mess they didn’t want to touch.

“I don’t know,” Patton said. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” Thomas tried to think of what they should do. “I’m asking you. What should we be doing?”

“That’s a different question,” Patton pointed out. “And you really shouldn’t ask me for advice.”

Thomas covered his eyes with his hand. “I just want to know what to do next, Patton!”

“Why do we have to do anything?” Patton asked bracingly. “Relax. Watch TV. Get some sleep. You had a rough night, kiddo.”

“So did you!” Thomas snapped. “Why is everything always about me?”

A few beats of silence, just enough for Thomas to decide he was a terrible person and should dig a hole to hide in. Patton shifted, and Thomas saw he was running his hands across the hoodie again. Did it make him feel better to wear it? Did it remind him of Logan?

“Janus says it’s okay for stuff to be about you,” Patton said, sounding woefully unconvincing. “He says it’s fine for you to focus on yourself.”

“Janus also said you didn’t exist,” Thomas fired back. “He’s not my go-to person for trustworthy advice.”

The moment the words left his lips, Thomas regretted them.

“Janus is trying,” Patton said, a bit more convincingly. “And you shouldn’t--”

“I know!” Thomas tried to hold back his tears again. “I know I shouldn’t. There’s a million things I shouldn’t do, not least that I shouldn’t be upset right now.”

Patton sucked in a breath. “It’s okay to be upset.”

“Don’t you hate lying?”

“It’s okay,” Patton said, and he sounded so much like a kicked puppy that Thomas somehow managed to feel even worse. “It--it is, Janus says so, and Virgil, and Lo-Logan--”

“And they’re right,” said Thomas wearily. “They’re right.”

“But you said--”

“Don’t listen to me,” Thomas said. “I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Patton was quiet again. Thomas wondered what it would take to get Patton to leave. He could probably ask and Patton would go. He could just ask. Patton never argued.

Thomas didn’t want Patton to leave. But he didn’t want to pretend that things were alright. And he didn’t want to make Patton feel bad, he didn’t want to feel bad--he knew a million things he didn’t want, a million things he shouldn’t want, and he couldn’t find a single thing that he did.

“We should talk about it,” Thomas said. “About what happened tonight, and--about everything, you know?”

“We should,” Patton agreed. He sounded miserable but resigned. “We can’t put it off.”

“It’s the right thing to do.” Thomas made up for his lack of confidence with a confident wave of his pizza slice. “We need to talk this out. We don’t want it happening again.”

Patton nodded.

“So...what happened?”

Patton immediately stopped nodding.

“You said someone upset you,” Thomas continued. “Well, you didn’t say, but...someone did, right?”

“He didn’t mean to.” Patton’s voice was almost desperate. “He tried to help--and he’s right, there wasn’t any reason to be upset, I just overreacted--”

“Who?” Thomas asked.

Patton worried his lip between his teeth and said nothing.

Thomas looked at the TV, playing the nature channel, because he wanted to calm himself down, because it didn’t make sense to be upset.

“Oh.” Thomas almost winced. “Logan said something, didn’t he?”

Patton’s silence said enough.

“Of course,” Thomas said, trying to sound less bitter than he felt. “Of course he said something.”

“He can’t help it,” Patton said weakly. “He doesn’t get this stuff. Not really.”

“He does more than he lets himself.”

“He doesn’t want to get this stuff.” Patton sighed. “And like I said, he didn’t mean it, and he did try to calm me down--”

Thomas raised his eyebrows. “By saying you shouldn’t even be upset?”

“I think he might have panicked a bit.” Patton giggled sheepishly. “I was crying and he didn’t really expect that.”

“Yeah.” Thomas didn’t even feel surprised. Logan was the smartest dude he knew, but he could be really stupid sometimes. “Have you talked it through with him?”

“No.” Patton poked at the remaining slices of pizza but didn’t pick one up. “I got really upset, and maybe I’d been upset for a while, and this was just what set it off, I guess? And then he got upset but he wouldn’t admit it, and then I felt you start panicking, so I had to go help you.”

Thomas frowned. “You didn’t have to do anything.”

“I wanted to.”

Thomas let out a long breath. “Okay.”

“We’ll talk it through later,” Patton said. “Sometimes the kiddos need time.”

Thomas opened his mouth to snap about the amount of time they spent just waiting for someone to say something. Then he closed it. Then he opened it again, and the words that came out weren’t what he expected. “Is Logan okay?”

Patton blinked. “I--no, I don’t think so. He’s…”

Thomas motioned for Patton to continue.

“He was a bit annoyed when he found out about Nico,” Patton finished, seeming almost apologetic. Like Patton had a responsibility to keep anyone else from being upset. “I don’t think he really liked the idea of a--boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Thomas said.

“He’ll come around,” Patton quickly added. “He just needs time to adjust.”

“You keep saying that.” Thomas curled further into the couch and picked at a pizza crust. “If giving you all more time means this is going to keep happening, I’m not really sold.”

“I’m sorry,” Patton said quietly. “I really didn’t mean to.”

“That’s not what I--” Thomas groaned and tossed the crust onto the plate. “This is a huge mess, and honestly, I can’t see how this could possibly get worse. I feel like crap. A whole stick of crap, inside and out. And if finding out Logan’s deal will make me feel a bit less like crying, I’d rather get that over with.”

Patton watched him closely. The TV lights flashed off his glasses. “That makes sense. But I’m not sure if he wants that, kiddo.”

“Who cares what Logan wants?” Thomas was probably being a bit uncharitable, but he was too tired and emotional to care. “You said it yourself, he’s a part of me, he’s supposed to help. I’m not gonna have my logic griping about Nico all night, okay? I’m already stressed enough.”

“Yeah, well, he’s kind of the reason you’re stressed,” Patton argued, “which I just realized proves your point. Okay. If he wants, he can talk to you.”

“Thank you.” Finally, a side that actually listened to Thomas occasionally. “Logan?”

The house was silent.

“He might be asleep,” Patton said. “He’s very rigid in his sleep schedule.”

“Is that why I don’t have coherent thoughts past ten pm?”

Patton nodded. “Also, sleep deprivation.”

“It’s not that bad, I’m not up that late.” Thomas sighed. “Logan? Logan, are you gonna come out and talk, or will we just sit on the couch all night with no closure?”

“You don’t have to,” Patton added unhelpfully. Thomas glared at him. “What? He doesn’t!”

“Fine, fine, he doesn’t have to,” Thomas complained. “He can feel free to make you and me upset and then leave us hanging, without an explanation of why he doesn’t like Nico--I mean, how could anyone not like Nico?”

“I don’t think it’s about Nico specifically,” Patton said, as if that was supposed to explain things. “And if he’s not going to talk, we can’t push him.”

Thomas groaned and looked for a blanket to hide in. What was the point of having imaginary aspects of his personality, if he couldn’t actually talk to them when he wanted to? What was the problem--there was no logical reason to be upset, but Logan had made Patton upset, it didn’t make any sense--

“Logan?” Thomas called once more, feeling stupid to be yelling at an empty living room. “We could really use you, buddy.”

When there was no answer, Thomas sighed and sank back into the couch. He glanced over at Patton, who was pointedly watching the TV instead of Thomas--the nature channel was now talking about parakeets--and then the shadows seemed to shift at the other end of the couch.

“Um,” Thomas said, unable to see what exactly had happened.

Patton looked where Thomas was looking, made a soft oh noise, and turned on another light.

“What do you want?” Logan asked.

With the addition of the light, Thomas could vaguely make him out, but he was even more shadowy than Patton. His knees were tucked to his chest and a blanket covered him. He looked like he’d fallen asleep on the couch, just gotten shaken awake, and was irritated about it. His hair was mussed in the back.

“We wanted to talk,” Thomas said, when it became clear that Patton was just going to sit awkwardly between them and not say anything.

“About what?” Logan’s voice was quiet and a bit rough. Maybe from sleep, maybe from yelling, maybe from crying. “Be more specific, Thomas.”

“Logan,” Patton said, barely above a whisper.

“What?”

Patton didn’t respond. Thomas was already regretting this. Should they really try to talk things out while tired, grumpy, and piled on the couch watching nature documentaries?

“It wasn’t my fault what happened,” Logan said defensively, as if Thomas had interrogated him. “I simply pointed out logical facts, I don’t control anyone’s emotional reaction--”

Yeah, this was definitely a bad idea, if it was already going this far south. “Hey,” Thomas said before Logan could dig that hole deeper. “Calm down. Nobody’s accusing you of anything.”

“Do you want me to apologize?” Logan asked.

Thomas blinked at the question. “Uh--do you want to?”

Logan made a noncommittal noise.

“Well, if you don’t have anything against it, I think you probably should.” Thomas motioned to Patton, who squeaked at being included. “You made him really upset, and I know you didn’t mean to, but that warrants an apology.”

“Hm.” Logan adjusted his glasses and sighed. “As you say. Patton, I--I said something that I didn’t realize was upsetting. Because it was a fact that you should be considering, but I am still responsible for my actions alone. So...I apologize.”

“Aw, Lo, I forgive you!” Patton seemed to brighten right away. “It’s okay, really! I know you didn’t mean it!”

“What did he say?” Thomas asked. “What’d you say, Logan?”

They both went very quiet.

“C’mon, do I have to try random bits of my internal monologue to see what it was?” Thomas sighed. “Look, whatever it was, I want to see what I can do to help you out. If you’re upset--”

“I’m not upset--”

“I want to help.” Thomas looked across the couch to Logan. “Let me help, okay?”

Logan sighed in annoyance and defeat.

“You don’t like Nico,” Thomas prompted, as Patton hopped up and went to the kitchen. Thomas didn’t know what Patton was supposed to be doing, since he was just opening and closing the fridge, but he decided to let the guy have his escape route. “Why don’t you like Nico?”

“I don’t like anyone,” Logan said. “That’s not my area of expertise.”

“So you don’t like Nico?”

“I don’t have an opinion on him.”

“Clearly you do,” Thomas said, biting back his defense of Nico. He could argue about how amazing and incredible Nico was, or he could get to the bottom of this without panicking again. “I just want to hear what you have to say, Logan.”

Logan blinked. Thomas wondered, briefly and guiltily, when he’d last said that.

“Nico is fine,” Logan said firmly. “He’s--fine.”

“I figured you’d like him,” Thomas said. He didn’t know what he was trying to do--convince Logan? Convince himself? “He’s--he’s a poet. You like poetry, right?”

There was a long pause. “Poetry is an effective way to convey ideas through a rhythmic and minimal structure.”

Thomas didn’t know how to take that. “Nico’s a good poet.”

Logan let out a breath and curled into his blanket. When Thomas looked closely, he thought he saw purple on it. Had it been a gift from Virgil? Why did that make him feel so crappy?

“You like Nico,” Logan said. He somehow managed to phrase it as a question.

“Yeah,” Thomas said.

“You’ve known him for a day.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t like him!” Thomas said. “Love at first sight, Logan. Believe in it.”

Logan stared at him with disappointment. “No.”

“Fine, not love.” Thomas slumped. “But he’s so cute! And sweet! And smart, and funny, and--”

“I know.” Logan rolled his eyes. “Ugh.”

“I get it, you’re heartless, you don’t believe in love.” Thomas sighed. “I--I just thought you could be--happy for me?”

Logan opened his mouth and closed it. Behind them, Patton bustled around, and Thomas longed for him to return. He couldn’t do this on his own. He couldn’t handle this kind of emotional stuff, which made him sound like Logan.

“I am happy for you,” Logan said quietly. “Er--figuratively. I don’t have feelings. Still...I am--pleased. That you have found someone you feel compatible with. Human connection is important for people.”

Thomas smiled a bit, despite himself.

“And,” Logan added very quickly, “it’s doubtful that the relationship will last so it’s really pointless to object to such a quick fling--”

Patton made a wounded noise from the kitchen. Logan immediately stopped talking.

“Pointless?” Thomas repeated.

Logan pointedly began staring at the floor.

Thomas couldn’t keep the hurt from slipping into his voice. “Is that really what you think?”

“I--” Logan swallowed. “I don’t mean any harm by it, but--”

“Just--” Thomas braced himself. “Say what’s on your mind.”

Logan was silent for several moments. Thomas didn’t say anything. He shoved his hurt feelings as far down as he could, because this wasn’t about him right now. Logan was upset.

And--if Logan was upset about Nico, if Logic didn’t approve--

Thomas didn’t really want to think about that.

“It’s an outdated statistic,” Logan said, “that half of all marriages end in divorce.” He spoke slowly, quietly, way too quietly, and Thomas knew that he’d been the one to lessen Logan’s voice. Spare you my company. “However, the odds remain that relationships you pursue are--unlikely to come to fruition. Either you talk until marriage and/or copulation, living the rest of your lives together, or you separate.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s pointless,” Thomas said. “What, is life pointless because we die in the end?”

Logan paused for a second. “I don’t think so. Unless--”

“No, no, no existential crises tonight, I’m already having a breakdown.” Thomas waved his hands. “We’re gonna assume that my life does have value, okay? And we’re gonna assume that even if Nico and I--break up, which is unlikely--”

“Unlikely,” Logan repeated.

“It is unlikely,” Thomas said, deciding to dig his hole deeper. “He’s so cute!”

“You’re in the infatuation phase,” Logan said, almost pityingly. “You can’t possibly predict anything right now--”

“We get along,” Thomas said. “We barely argued! We have similar interests, he loves Paramore and Disney movies and cartoons--he thinks it’s cool that I sing, and he’s supportive of my career, and--”

“You’ve known him for one day.”

“He’s perfect!” Thomas paused. “Not--not perfect, he can’t be perfect, but he’s--really close! He doesn’t have any flaws, not that I know of.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” Logan sighed. “Thomas, I understand that you are filled with emotions about this subject, but as your Logic it’s my duty to rain a bit on your figurative parade. You don’t know this man. You have met him only once, and you know him on nothing more than a superficial level.”

“He’s not a murderer!” Thomas said. “I can tell when someone’s a good person--”

“One, can you?” Logan asked. “Your judgments on morality are often--”

“Flawed,” Patton agreed from the kitchen. Both of them turned to look at him. “I’m not the best at this, kiddo. Nico seems like a good guy, but--” He leaned onto the counter. “I just don’t know.”

Thomas swallowed. He hadn’t expected Patton to take Logan’s side. “Virgil would--”

“Virgil is infatuated, just like you are.” Logan sighed. “I’m not saying Nico is secretly evil. I’m saying you might not be as compatible as you feel you are.”

“We--” Thomas could think of a million answers. But--did he trust himself to know? Did he trust himself to be in the right?

“What if he’s still working through a breakup, and you’re a rebound?” Logan suggested. “What if he doesn’t have a stable career, and has to rely on you? What if you have different financial priorities, or priorities for intimacy? What if you need to change your own career in order to be with him? What if your love languages don’t intersect, or one of you cheats--”

“I wouldn’t cheat!” Thomas protested.

“What if it doesn’t work out?” Logan argued back without missing a beat. “You’re two adults. You have a million small, intricate parts of yourself and your life that you’ll need to fit together. It’s impossible for every aspect of your relationship to be perfect, and it’s unreasonable to expect that a man you met one day ago will be the man of your dreams.”

“We’ll communicate!” Thomas said. “We’ll--I want this, Logan. Are you telling me I can’t try?”

“I’m saying you need to consider every option, before you barrel into a situation you can’t control.” Logan spread his hands. “What if he hurts you? What if you hurt him? What if you aren’t ready for this, and by dragging him into a relationship, you’re only making the situation worse?”

Thomas tried to laugh and ignore the sting in his eyes. “Isn’t it Virgil’s job to overthink?”

Logan leaned back into the couch again. “I’m not trying to overthink. I’m trying to raise logical points.”

“Are you?” Thomas asked. “Dude, like you said, it’s been a day. I can’t control all these things that will happen in the future! I don’t need to worry about whether we’ll move in together, right?”

“Right,” Logan said reluctantly.

“Is...that what you said to Patton?” Thomas murmured. “Did you tell him--”

“That it wouldn’t work out.” Patton’s voice wavered. He was staring out the kitchen window into the dark backyard. “That we needed to--think this through. And, maybe...not go on the date.”

“Not--” Thomas looked between Patton, whose knuckles were white on the counter, to Logan, who looked ashamed. “Not go on the date?”

“If we go on the date, we’re agreeing to try this.” Logan sounded like he regretted each word that came out of his mouth. “If we go on the date, this is confirmed. He’s our boyfriend.”

“Yeah?” Thomas couldn’t help the way anxiety pitched his voice. “That’s the point?”

“Are we ready for that?”

Both Logan and Patton had spoken at once. Thomas felt like he’d been punched.

“You...you don’t think I’m ready,” Thomas said dully. “Do you.”

“I want to.” That was Patton, finally joining them again, sitting next to the TV and pulling his knees to his chest. “I really want to, kiddo. Nico is so nice, and sweet, and good--”

Something sour rose in Thomas’ mouth. “And--”

“And Logan has a point.” Patton rubbed circles into his pajama pants. “I’m not sure if we are ready for this.”

Thomas sighed and curled into his own little ball on the other end of the couch. Look at him, nearly crying with several aspects of his personality, way too late at night, as the TV told him about chameleons. Chameleons could disappear into trees with a change of their colors. Thomas wished he could do the same into the couch. Or on his date with Nico--he could change into exactly who the relationship would need him to be.

That was what relationships were about, right? Compromise?

Maybe people who cried over chameleons really weren’t relationship material.

“Why weren’t you there at the mall?” Thomas asked Patton, after a few minutes of silence. “I’d have figured that you’d want to help, being the heart and all.”

“Roman...seemed like he needed some time,” Patton said. “Without me.”

Thomas nodded.

“And, well, I was there, in a way! The whole time!” Patton shrugged. “You spoke from the heart, right? That was me!”

Thomas paused. “‘I don’t know when I’m going to know what I want again?’”

Patton looked down. “That was me.”

“I know what I want.” Thomas wondered if he could convince himself by saying it. That sounded like lying. But lying was good now, right? Or not? Maybe? Maybe he could summon Janus if he lied enough, and Janus could handle all of this. “I want to give Nico a try.”

“Roman does,” Logan said. “And Virgil does. And I don’t, and I don’t think Janus has an opinion--”

“He’s neutral,” Patton agreed. “And I’m--in the middle.”

“So only half of me wants to give Nico a try,” Thomas said. “Wonderful. It’d be really cool if, one day, my entire self decided to agree on something.”

Logan made an affirmative noise. Patton sighed.

“We didn’t have this much of a debate with my last boyfriend, did we?” Thomas blurted out. “We just went for it. And that turned out--”

“How did it turn out?” Logan asked, with a touch of something in his voice. Maybe it was anger. What was Logan angry about? “Tell me how it turned out.”

Thomas opened his mouth and the words stuck in his throat.

“We broke up,” Patton whispered, pulling at the sleeves of his cardigan. He looked uncomfortable sitting on the floor, but Thomas didn’t know how to invite him back to the sofa without forcing him into it. “We broke up with him, and it hurt.”

Thomas gave Patton a soft look. Patton didn’t seem to notice.

“It hurt, and it sucked,” Patton continued, the words coming faster and faster. “It was no fun. And I have all these good memories of him, of course I do, but--but it’s not the same, if they’re all tainted by the fact that he left. Was that--was that worth it? Good memories and a bad ending?”

The TV hummed. Logan mouthed along to the narration. An elephant was getting separated from its herd. It tried to follow the footprints of its mother, but it was going in the wrong direction, heading farther and farther into the desert.

“We don’t know that it’ll go the same way,” Thomas said weakly. “This is all speculation.”

“Fine, then, I’ll work from real data.” Logan gave Patton a look, but Patton didn’t stop him. “Thomas, you have just learned that you possess “dark sides” of your personality, that you don’t understand yourself and are doubtful of your career path, and that you’re not as much of a “good person” as you think you are. You suffer from anxiety and self-esteem issues, you have a tendency to catastrophize, and you have intrusive thoughts.”

Thomas raised a hand to object. Logan waved his hand back down.

“None of this means you are incapable of a healthy and fulfilling relationship,” Logan continued. “It certainly doesn’t mean you are ‘unlovable.’ However, it’s important to note that you are not in a good mental state right now. A relationship doesn’t fix that. Instead, it can lead to more issues.”

“My mental state is fine,” Thomas said. He didn’t even know why he bothered to say that.

Logan waved a hand at the living room, and the half-eaten pizza on the couch, and Patton sitting next to the TV as a voice droned on about wolf packs.

“It’s a trash bin,” Patton murmured. “And the waste keeps piling and piling up, until it inevitably--spills out into the rest of their life.” He looked up, his eyes sparkling with tears. “If--when that happens--do we want Nico to be a part of our life? Do we want to--”

“Ruin things for him,” Thomas finished. He felt resigned, worn out. Like this was the only way the conversation could have ended. “Because he’s--he’s so nice, and sweet, and--and good. And I’m...not.”

Patton muffled a sob.

“And I thought, maybe, he could turn things around.” Thomas rubbed at his arm. “I thought this could be the moment I got my life back on track. But--what if the train’s still barrelling down on us? Do I want to sacrifice his happiness for mine? Is that fair to him?”

Logan glanced between Thomas and Patton.

“Does he deserve me?” Thomas almost whispered. “Do I deserve him?”

The TV switched to an episode about seahorses. Abruptly, Logan grabbed the remote and turned it off. The sudden silence made Thomas itch. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, and tried to take deep breaths, tried not to panic. Was he panicking? He couldn’t tell. He felt crappy, he felt unmoored, he felt like he was asleep and wide awake and floating somewhere outside his body. He was just another Side of himself, another small voice in his head, not a real person at all. Maybe he should go to bed. He’d see things clearly when he woke up.

Maybe not. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he could barely remember how things were supposed to feel. He was wrong a lot. He was always wrong. How did he know what was right? How could he count on a single thing? He didn’t even know what he wanted. He didn’t even know who he was.

He couldn’t keep himself safe. He couldn’t follow his dreams. He couldn’t do the right thing. He couldn’t lie.

And he didn’t know anything.

And he was about to throw himself into a situation where he knew even less.

Was that the right thing to do?

Was that really what he wanted?

“Thomas,” Logan said. “You’re spiraling.”

“You’re the one making me spiral!” Thomas blurted out. When he looked at Logan, his vision was blurry. “We’re all spiraling, so stop pretending you’re above us! Stop giving us your oh-so-logical criticism and getting annoyed when it makes people upset!”

Logan huffed. “Well, why am I here if you don’t want to listen to me?”

“Stop!” Patton yelled. “Stop, both of you! Stop talking! If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all!”

Logan folded his arms. Thomas pressed his eyes shut until he could see sparks behind them. Keep breathing. Keep breathing.

Ask for--help? Ask for help. He wasn’t good at this.

“What…” Thomas’ voice trailed off. He steeled himself and tried again. “What do I do?”

“Right now?” Logan asked. “Or--”

“With--Nico.” Thomas let the words hang in the air. “What do I do now?”

Patton shifted next to the TV. “What do you want to do?”

“I’m asking you guys!” Thomas opened his eyes and looked around frantically. “I’m asking for you guys to help!”

“We’re parts of you.” Logan still blended into the couch. He didn’t move much, Thomas realized, when he didn’t want to. Did he breathe? Did he need to breathe before he talked, or did he just start talking abruptly, without the need to pause? “We don’t have any answers that you don’t have.”

“And--” Patton worried his bottom lip. “Thomas, you’re the best of us. You’re all of us together. You have the final say on anything, and you always will.”

“But I don’t know what to do!” Thomas burst out. “I don’t know what to say! I don’t--I have to drag you into every little dilemma because I don’t know how to figure things out on my own! And it’s stupid, and it’s selfish, and I can’t rely on you to solve all my problems, but--but I know you guys. I know who you are. What you want. I...I don’t know myself, guys, I really don’t.”

Logan made a sudden movement, and Thomas deliriously thought Logan was trying to reach for his hand. As quick as he started, though, Logan froze again, and pulled himself further away.

“I don’t know what I want,” Thomas said, the darkness spinning around him. “I don’t know who I want to be. I don’t know what’s good or what’s bad or what’s not--and I’ve got a cute boy who wants to take me out on a date, and I’m sitting here crying because--because--because I’m scared.”

Patton sucked in a breath.

“I’m scared,” Thomas realized. “I’m scared, aren’t I?”

“Elaborate upon those feelings,” Logan encouraged. “Why are you scared?”

“I--I’m scared--” Thomas stared at his hands. He’d shaken hands with Nico, and he’d wished he didn’t have to let go. “I’m scared of change. That’s always it, you know?” He laughed a bit. “I’m scared of--new possibilities. I know I have to take risks to dream big, but sometimes the risks seem outweigh the rewards. Sometimes it feels easier to avoid luxuries. Sometimes it’s--scary, to confront something I don’t know.”

Logan tugged his blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“I’m excited,” Thomas said. “I should be excited, but I’m terrified, because there are so many chances for me to mess this up. I’ve already got so much on my plate. Do I really want to drag someone else into this? Do I really want to--watch him walk away?”

Patton looked up.

“Yeah, maybe I’m not as selfless as I thought.” Thomas laughed again. It sounded more like a sob. “Maybe I just don’t want to get something and lose it again. Maybe I’m tired of wanting things, if I never get what I want.”

“You’re allowed to want things,” Patton said softly.

“You don’t believe that, do you?”

“No,” Patton admitted. “But I want to believe it. I really, really do.”

“And that’s the first step,” Logan said. “Isn’t it? Patton thinking that Thomas should be more selfless doesn’t erase the fact that he chose to say otherwise. Thoughts don’t equal actions. You can feel doubts about this, but that doesn’t have to affect the way you proceed.”

“Doesn’t it?” Thomas waved a hand at the ceiling. “It feels like I’m just strung along by my thoughts willy-nilly. You guys argue, and I get shoved around the food court and into the trash can.”

“Barring that--unorthodox example, I see your point.” Logan adjusted his glasses. The chance to explain something seemed to cheer him up a bit. “It is hard to separate thoughts from actions. However, it can be done. Think of it this way. When we convene to help you with an issue, we represent your thoughts. We give you different opinions based on our own goals, perspectives, and priorities.”

“And it’s loud,” Thomas said.

“And it’s loud,” Logan agreed. “It’s also a process. You listen to your thoughts, debate with them, and come to a conclusion. Yes, you can be influenced heavily by your thoughts, but the one who controls your actions is you.”

“That’s what makes you special,” Patton said, sounding like he was finally understanding. “We’re imaginary. We can’t affect the real world. But you can.”

“You make your own choices,” Logan said. “That’s what makes you your own person.”

Thomas swallowed. “Motivational speech, huh? What happened to ‘Nico is a terrible idea’?”

Logan winced. “I...still do think that, unfortunately.”

“Logan,” Patton said in a warning tone.

“But! But.” Logan sighed. “What you said about not knowing--about fearing the unknown--a lot of that is me.”

Thomas’ eyes widened.

“I’m the part of you that doesn’t want to take risks. I’m the part of you that wants to--to play it safe, because we only get one life.” Logan waved a hand. “If Virgil is the alarm clock that keeps you on your toes, I’m the person who sets the alarm clock. That means I don’t always understand the risks that you take, or the things that you do, and sometimes that’s...isolating. It feels--it seems like I’m unable to connect with you.”

“You do alright, Logan.” Thomas shook his head. “Better than alright. You keep my head on my shoulders, and I can always count on you. You’re better at this than you think.”

“I hope so,” Logan said.

“I know so.” Patton’s voice was firm. “You’re a great kiddo. You always make me feel better--well, not always, but you’re trying! You’re working on it!”

“Thank you,” Logan said, and sounded like he meant it. Patton smiled back.

“So what are you saying?” Thomas prompted.

“That...this is an area that I do not understand.” Logan twisted his fingers together. “Perhaps I felt--powerless, when you began to put such stock in your emotions. I could not help but focus on the negatives of the situation, in order to figuratively shove logic back into the conversation. But--there are conversations I’m not meant to be a part of.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Thomas said. “You just said you focused on the negatives--and you did raise some good points, ones I’m gonna have to think about! But if you focus on the positives, well, you could still contribute some interesting things. Right?”

Logan’s gaze flickered over to Thomas. Thomas gave him a smile.

“You are thirty-one years old,” Logan said. “The average lifespan of a male in the United States is about seventy-five years.”

“Great, way to give me a mid-life crisis,” Thomas teased.

“I’m attempting to say that you have time.” Logan spread his hands. “You have been away from college for less than ten years. Your personal identity is still changing, and there is still time for it to change.”

Was there?

“Yes,” Logan argued, looking more and more determined. “You don’t know everything this instant. However, nobody else does, either. What would be the point of scientific discovery if everyone knew the answers before they asked the questions? Life is about evolution. You have time to learn more about yourself.”

“But I’ve wasted so much time!” Thomas protested, and he almost felt like Logan, like Thomas was echoing everything Logan had ever told him. “I need to figure some stuff out, I can’t just stumble blindly through my life--”

“Except you haven’t,” Logan said. “What have you done with your life? You graduated college with a degree. You wanted to be a comedian, an internet personality, and you managed that. You wanted to be an actor, and you managed that. You’ve written a musical, you’ve befriended many talented people, you’ve discovered that you’re gay. I would hardly call that ‘stumbling blindly.’ You’re simply doing your best with the resources provided to you.”

Thomas let out a breath. “And your point is?”

“My point is that you don’t have much to lose,” Logan said. “This seems like an immediate dilemma in the moment. However, you don’t need to think through every possible option.” Logan squared his shoulders. “I don’t know what you should do. Neither do you. That’s--okay.”

Thomas found himself beginning to smile.

“That is okay, right?” Logan immediately looked at Patton. “I’m not completely off the mark, am I?”

“You did good,” Patton said.

Logan let out a breath.

“And you’re right.” Patton laughed. “Again! You’re right, again.” His face fell. “I--I don’t know what I want right now. But there’s time to figure that out. It’s not the end of anything, and you have a lot of choices to make. A lot of...chances.”

“A lot of choices,” Thomas echoed. “I guess it was kind of silly to think of it as ‘break up immediately or stay together forever.’ I’ve only known Nico for a day!”

Logan nodded. “In the future, you can make whatever choice works for you.”

“And we’ll be with you, kiddo.” Patton smiled. “Every step of the way.”

Thomas let out a long breath and the darkness settled around him. He was in his living room. He knew this house like the back of his hand. He was fine, he was safe, and it would be morning eventually.

“Thanks,” Thomas said, running a hand through his hair. “Thanks, guys. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome,” Logan said. “It’s our job.”

“And our pleasure,” Patton corrected. “We’re happy to help.”

“I am not happy.” Logan paused and reluctantly inclined his head. “Still, Patton is correct. I--find it enjoyable when I can assist.”

“You both did great.” Thomas laughed. “I’m sorry for keeping you up with all this, I really shouldn’t have overthought it as much as I did.”

“We caused the overthinking,” Logan pointed out.

“We did,” Patton admitted. He shifted a bit and looked up, wiping his eyes. “I--I’m scared too, Thomas. I don’t want to...end up heartbroken again.”

“Yeah,” Thomas said.

“But I think it might be worth it.” Patton balled his hands. “Those memories might hurt to look back on now, but they were nice while they happened, and they made us feel happy! The bad parts don’t necessarily erase the good parts. Nico is a good thing. A relationship with Nico, however it ends up, could be a good thing. You’re allowed--” Patton swallowed. “You’re allowed to want to be happy.”

Thomas fought back tears. “And--if it doesn’t work out?”

“We’ll live,” Patton said simply. “We did before, and we will again.”

“Okay.” Thomas’ voice came out like a croak, and he covered his face. “Okay, fine, just--just give me a second. Turns out I really needed to hear that.”

A warm hand hesitantly touched his shoulder. Thomas peeked between his hands to see Logan awkwardly patting his shoulder. Thomas gave him a watery smile.

“We can do this,” Patton said, sounding close to crying himself. “We’re allowed to want. It--it was never that we didn’t know, it was that we didn’t let ourselves, wasn’t it?”

“I want so much,” Thomas forced out. “I want to go on a date with Nico, I want my Sides to get along, I want to be famous and I want to be good and I want to know what I’m doing and I want--”

“It’s okay,” Logan said, barely above a whisper. “Breathe.”

Thomas breathed. In and out. In and out. He knew he could breathe. He had lungs and a heart and blood pumping through his veins and tears on his eyelashes. He knew that. He didn’t know who he was, but he knew pieces of himself, he knew his logic and his feelings and his dreams. He knew where he was and where he’d been. And he could figure things out from there.

“It’s okay,” Logan said again. “You will be okay.”

He would be okay.

No matter what, they would find a way to be okay.

Thomas wiped his eyes, uncurled his legs, and motioned for Patton to join them on the couch. Patton stood up and slipped between Logan and Thomas, making Logan’s arm fall around Patton’s shoulders. Logan started, but he didn’t remove it, and he let Patton lean into his side.

“Gosh, this was a mess, huh?” Patton giggled and took off his glasses to wipe his eyes again. “It’s already so late in the evening and I’m still such a mess of feelings.”

“We could all use a decompression activity,” Logan said. “May I…”

Thomas smiled. “Sure, buddy, go ahead and watch the nature documentaries.”

“Yes!” Logan looked triumphant. He turned on the TV and found one about birds. “Does this work?”

“Sure,” Thomas said. He paused. “So...what do we do?”

“Tonight?” Logan asked. “Watch TV, relax, and go to sleep.”

“And...tomorrow?”

“That’s tomorrow,” Patton said, punctuated by a yawn. “We’re still in today.”

Thomas smiled a bit. “Focus on tonight, huh?”

“Focus on the choices you can make right now.” Logan watched the TV begin to pan over a rainforest. “Sometimes you’re allowed to ignore your thoughts for a while.”

“Sometimes I’m allowed not to know things yet.” Thomas thought about it. “Thanks, Logan. Patton. I know this--can’t be easy for you guys.”

“It’s not,” Patton admitted. “But we’re working to be good people, right?”

“You’re working to be better,” Thomas corrected. “And you’re both doing amazing.”

Patton smiled. Logan hummed and pulled his blanket across Patton’s legs.

“Tonight we relax,” Thomas said, and smiled. “Yeah. I can work with that. I know we’ll figure stuff out soon.”

“You do?” Patton asked sleepily.

“I’ve got you guys in my corner, how could I not?”

Logan flushed before adjusting his glasses. “Likewise, we have you. As we are parts of you, you’re in your own corner.”

“Confusing,” Thomas remarked. “Let me guess--”

“It’s complicated,” Logan and Patton said.

“Thought so.”

But maybe he didn’t need to understand it. Maybe he didn’t need to know everything. He knew that Logan and Patton, and Roman, and Virgil--and Janus--were on his side. He knew they cared about him. He knew they’d help him be okay.

Maybe that could be all he needed. Maybe he just needed to trust in every part of himself.

Thomas looked down at his chest. Patton had slung an arm across it and was already half-asleep. Logan was intently watching the nature documentary. Somewhere in his head, Virgil and Roman were probably celebrating, or sleeping, if they were smart. Somewhere else, maybe Janus was smiling.

Thomas trusted every piece of himself that he knew.

Maybe he could learn to trust himself, too.

After all, he had enough time to make a million choices.

“Goodnight,” Thomas said as Patton began to snore. Logan murmured a response. “I--I love you guys, okay?”

“Love you too, kiddo,” Patton mumbled.

“I--” Logan breathed out. “I--hold you in the highest regard.”

“Love you too, nerd.” Thomas smiled. “You’re the best.”

He knew that he loved them. He loved every part of himself. And maybe, one day, he could get around to loving himself, too.

He knew that he wanted to. He knew that he wanted. He knew that he had the best possible backup, and a very cute possible boyfriend, and that he could get what he wanted, if he tried.

It was okay. It was fine. Things would figure themselves out.

Right now, Thomas was exactly where he needed to be.

General taglist (ask to be included or removed!):

@the17thmeatball

@most-likely-fandom

@csi-baker-street-babes

@caffeinated-cryptid

@thefivecalls

@ollyollyoxinfree

@the-gay-is-back

@dramaticsnakes

@stoicpanther

@chaospersonified

@thatoneloudowl

@jungle321jungle

@mistythegenderqueermess

@k1ngtok1

@joylessnightsky

@elizabutgayer

@ohheavenlylord

@enby-ralsei

@remy-the-lemon-berry

@drarrymalecsolangelo

@riptide-123

@fander-fic-recs

@multi-fandoms-posts

Taglist from @the-taglist-repository:

 @callboxkat @nonasficcollection  @supernovainthenightsky  @evoodo123  @idont-freaking-know  @hekking-happy-nonsense  @cottonwoolsocks  @aceawkwardunicorn  @somehow-i-got-an-account  @enby-ralsei  @robinwritesshitposts @a-fandom-trashdump @kieraelieson  @rainbowbowtie  @10moonymhrivertam @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @awkwardjester @ollyollyoxinfree @intruxiety @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @just-your-typical-trans-guy @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #platonic logicality #sanders sides fanfiction #back at it again with the lowercase parentheses titles #also i am rly sorry that i haven't written much #finals are coming up and yeah it's just been a wild ride #and i'm sorry this angsty mess is the first thing i post in weeks djhsgfshsjs #we're all friends here we know what to expect #tw anxiety #tw panic attack #averywrites