Virgil/Logan | Sanders Sides [One-Shots]

[175] - Alright (Part Two)

And as a follow up, here's a fic with the very original idea of logan being stressed and overworked

Warnings: mentions anxiety, overworking, slight dehydration, probably swearing somewhere in this

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A knock on Logan's door pulled him from his faltering focus on work. Even though he did not tell the person outside to come inside, in fact he didn't say a thing, his door was pushed open.

"Lo?"

It was Virgil, which did not surprise Logan in the least. He was the side that most frequently visited Logan's room, either because he needed Logan's help stifling his anxiety or he was checking in on Logan and making sure he was okay. 

That last one had become an almost frequent thing during the past three weeks since he'd found Virgil anxious at one in the morning. The fact that they spent more time together had made them understand the other better, they'd definitely become closer.

Logan could with ease guess which the reason for Virgil's visit was this time, but he asked anyway. "Hello Virgil, do you need anything?" 

"Haven't seen you all day. Just want to know how you're doing." Virgil closed the door behind himself, coming up next to him. Logan opened up a new empty tab on his computer.

"I'm doing alright, have gotten a lot of work done." He was exhausted but proud of how much he had gotten done. Being productive felt good.

"...You look like shit." Virgil said, looking him up and down. The comment didn't bother Logan, and it was likely true anyway. He hadn't bothered with looking in the mirror today.

"Why, thank you, how kind." Logan said which made the other side roll his eyes.

"Have you been drinking anything today?" He asked, he definitely knew Logan too well.

"I'm perfectly hydrated." He said.

"Have you drank water?"

"I've had six cups." Logan said, which avoided the real question but was still not a lie. It might have been six cups of coffee, but the details weren't that important, Logan thought.

"Of water?" He asked sternly and Logan decided he was better off not even answering that. Virgil seemed unsurprised at his silence.

"That's what I thought."

"I'm fine, Virgil. You don't need to take care of me." He was fine. Ignoring his pulsating headache, of course. And how dry his mouth was despite all the coffee he'd had. Okay. Perhaps Virgil had reason to distrust in his self care.

"You sure? You look like you haven't gotten those eight hours of sleep you keep recommending me." Virgil said.

Logan had gotten a good hour and fifty minutes of sleep before his alarm had rang in the morning, but he didn't need to tell Virgil that.

"Perhaps I stayed up a bit too late, and maybe I have a headache, but that has never killed anyone." Logan said (even though, during all these years humanity had existed, it had probably happened), which maybe was the wrong words to choose because Virgil gave him a long look before turning around and leaving the room.

Virgil hadn't looked angry or disappointed with him, yet Logan felt a feeling of guilt becoming prominent, which somehow made his head hurt worse and he closed his eyes, pushed his glasses up and leaned his forehead in his hand, trying to ignore the pain and the feeling.

Once, after he and Virgil had talked through something that he'd been worried over, Virgil had pulled him in for a quick hug, as a thank you Logan guessed, but the short contact had left him with a racing heart and no clear reason as to why.