Hello, and welcome to my first pre-canon story! This is Logan angst, but Patton and Janus show up a lot; the others are mostly in the background for this. Some of the headcanons I put into this story will be in other things I write for Sanders Sides, just a heads-up. Also, I've already written most of this; hopefully that means I'll update quickly.

Aeneas is the name I use for King Creativity (I might explain this further in a different story). The others are using their usual names, but their function names are a bit different. This is mostly for my benefit, since I feel weird calling them by their functions; my theory here is that Janus made the Light Sides forget the Dark Sides' names after the Split.

Stay safe, please review, and enjoy reading!

...

School.

It had always fascinated Logan how words could mean more than the dictionary said. In the dictionary, school meant an institution for education. To Aeneas, it meant a new place to explore. To Patton, it meant a chance to meet new people and make Mom and Dad proud. To Virgil, it meant people watching Thomas and having less free time. To Janus, it meant new ways to look at things.

To Logan, it meant so much more. It meant he would learn the answers to questions he couldn't think to ask yet. It meant reading and writing, adding and subtracting and something called division that he didn't quite understand. It meant knowledge, knowledge he could only dream of before. Most of all, it meant he was important. School was about learning, and while the others would be helpful, he knew Curiosity would be needed more than the others. That meant that the grown-ups had decided that Curiosity was important. No, more than important. Vital? Crucial? There were so many ways to say it, and Thomas was about to learn more.

"Logan, it's your turn to pick a movie."

Patton's voice drew Logan out of his head. The five of them were on the couch in the main room in Thomas's mind, watching movies on the last night before school. Wow, was that really tomorrow? The thought sent Logan's stomach into knots. He could hardly wait! What if he got something wrong? People would care more now, it would matter if he screwed up, he'd seen his brothers come home with report cards and their parents would either smile or frown—

"Worrying is my job." Once again, Logan looked up and remembered he was surrounded by his friends. Virgil gave him one of his half-smiles.

"Grown-ups don't expect kids to be right about things anyway," Janus grumbled. His hat slipped down over his eyes when he crossed his arms. "I'll grow into it soon," he added under his breath.

Logan ignored that last comment and nodded. "You're right. Apologies for getting… apprehensive."

"I don't know what that means, but you got this!" Patton cheered.

"Can you pick the movie?"

"Aeneas, be patient."

"Sorry, Dad."

Logan got up to find another movie as Patton lunged over his spot to give Aeneas a bear hug. The other sides called him Dad almost as much as they called him Patton, but he still got excited every time.

As Big Hero 6 started playing, Patton continued to Dad them (Logan wasn't sure if "Dad" was a verb, but he knew it should be) by announcing that this would have to be the final movie. Logan nodded but barely heard him. Between his favorite movie and the fast-approaching milestone of starting kindergarten, he couldn't find it in him to listen to Patton too hard.

By the time the movie ended, Virgil was half asleep. So was Aeneas, but he insisted otherwise. Patton scooped Caution up to take him to bed, Aeneas tagging along, while Logan put the movie away. Janus started towards the hallway on his own; for reasons unknown to Logan, he always refused to be tucked in by Patton.

Logan scrambled to catch up with him before he reached his room, taking in the layout of the hallway as he went. It was a simple corridor with white-painted walls, but the positions of the sides' doors were constantly changing based on their needs and how Thomas prioritized them. Patton's baby blue door was in the center on the right side of the hallway, with Virgil's purple and black door right next to it in case he needed comfort after a nightmare. Logan's indigo door was currently at the end of the hallway, since Thomas expected to need him the most tomorrow; it had been that way all week, and Logan swelled with pride every time he saw it. Aeneas's door constantly changed color but was always sparkly, and it was close to the end of the hall on the right side; even when it looked similar to one of the other sides', their doors were labeled with their functions, so they couldn't get mixed up. Janus's yellow door was alone on the left side, tucked into the back corner. The invisible doorknob always moved, so Logan was relieved when Janus noticed him tagging along and left the door open for him.

Janus was already settled on a beanbag chair, writing in a notebook. He didn't say anything to Logan, so he figured he had to start this conversation. He decided to get to the point. He had little patience for small talk, and suspected Janus felt the same way. "Can I borrow the Lockbox?"

Janus's eyes shot up at him, lighting up the same way Aeneas's did when one of them complimented his work, or Patton's when they called him Dad and said his cookies were supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. His functions as Denial had a good deal of variety but were very specific, so he tended to be stay-up-all-night busy some days, but have nothing to do the rest of the time; then he ended up pranking Patton so he could lie about it. From what Logan had observed, working to fulfill their functions made the sides stronger, and lying only helped Janus to a certain extent. But nothing seemed to make Janus as invigorated as when one of the others asked to use the Lockbox.

He snapped the notebook closed and stood, a smirk playing across his face in sharp contrast to the glee that he'd just shown. "Be my guest."

"You say that like I won't need your help."

"It's called theatricality."

"I call it unnecessary."

Janus scowled but didn't sit back down. He took a pair of gloves off of his nightstand and slipped them on with practiced ease. Then he swiftly crossed the room to his bed and pulled the Lockbox out from under it.

The Lockbox was a short, square-topped metal safe. Logan could've spent hours puzzling over the intricacies of its function, but as the entire Mindscape was imaginary, it didn't have to make sense, so he didn't bother. Janus never let it out of his room anyway.

Janus laid the Lockbox on his bed as if handling a newborn; he'd probably be less gentle with a baby, actually. Once he seemed certain it was secure, not that much could happen to a box on a bed, he swept away the circular yellow rug covering the center of the floor, revealing the pattern engraved in the floor.

Logan suppressed a sigh. "A pentagram? Really?"

Janus pushed his hat out of his eyes, as it had fallen when he bent down for the rug. "It's not my fault there are five of us. Position, Logan, hurry up! Patton could come looking for you at any time." He placed the Lockbox in the center of the star, then knelt at one point of the star that was decorated with two intertwining snakes. The lines on his point began to glow yellow. Logan sat next to him. The planets in his point glowed deep blue. He almost thought he saw them spinning.

The rest of the room seemed to fade from reality.

Janus cupped his hands, placing them on top of the Lockbox and closing his eyes. There was no discernable change, but when he opened his hands, there was a tiny caterpillar.

Slowly, cautiously, he scooped it up in his gloves. "Curiosity," he breathed in a voice that was barely his own, "what is your secret?"

Logan swallowed. There were few rules to the Lockbox, but they could never be broken. Whoever was making a secret would have to speak it, but the sound would be swallowed by the caterpillar. Janus would hide it in the Lockbox, and only three things would bring it out. If the side who made the secret decided to share it with the others, the caterpillar would become a butterfly and appear in their room. If Thomas or the others figured it out on their own, the caterpillar would be released into the side's room, but it would never mature. If the secret ceased to be true, the caterpillar would appear in the side's room. And it would be dead.

This was always the hardest part. He had to say it before it was hidden. Janus had openly admitted to being able to hear the secrets of the Lockbox, but he wasn't allowed to share them. Logan knew all of this. He knew there was no way this could go wrong.

And yet, fear persisted.

He pushed his churning thoughts down and spoke.

The caterpillar woke up.

Janus had him look away as he opened the Lockbox to hide the secret.

The Lockbox went under the bed. The carpet returned to the center of the floor. The gloves came off.

"Always a pleasure to do business with you," Janus said, smirking. "Oh, do you want some chocolate?"

Logan blinked. It was amazing how quickly the mystique of the room dissipated. "Chocolate? In your room?"

"I didn't steal it from the kitchen without permission." He definitely stole it from the kitchen without permission.

"Dad would be cross if he found out."

Janus took the tin out of his pillowcase and rattled it. "Thomas didn't take any, for real. Besides, what Patton doesn't know won't hurt him."

Logan couldn't help but smile. "Fair enough."

Cheering quietly, Janus popped the top off and held it out. Logan took a piece, and they both ate in silence.

Seeing no more reason to stick around, he turned to leave. "Good night, Denial. Thank you for the chocolate."

"Anytime, Curio."

Patton was waiting outside. He didn't ask what the visit had been about, though Logan wasn't sure whether it was out of respect for his boundaries or because there was only one reason a side would visit Janus's room this late. They both went into Logan's room. It was fairly small, with only a desk, two bookshelves, the bed, and a couple of posters and models. He didn't see the need for a dresser, as he could make clothes appear and disappear. So could the other sides, but they seemed to like acting human.

He got into bed and let Patton pull the covers up to his chin. "Big day tomorrow," Patton said.

"It is."

"You're ready, kiddo. I know you'll make us proud."

"You'll be there too."

"But you'll be working hard to learn."

Logan nodded, closing his eyes. He doubted he'd be able to get much sleep, but something about Patton's reassurances made him more uneasy. The sooner he left, the better.

Patton brushed his hair out of his face. "Good night, kiddo. I love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

The door opened and closed, and then Logan was alone.