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ynbabe · 5 months

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Fake texts au- pt.12 bffs with the rookies+ Monaco for one, please!

Literally love the way anyone older than them has to be the babysitter 😭😭😭

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The week you spent with Oscar and Logan was perfect in every way possible. You woke up with perhaps the worst backache you'd ever had, almost unable to breathe because Logan had shited his entire weight on you... well, that part wasn't perfect but the dinner you had afterwards made up for every ache and pain.

Oscar's mum made every favourite dish of yours and Logans, leaving a very jealous Oscar but at the end of the day, the three of you fell into the same routine you did as kids.

Sleeping late, Waking up even later and eating junk till you couldn't eat anymore (much to the dismay of their trainers) the only different thing is that all three of you couldn't bunk on the same bed. So you took turns, as suggested by Oscar's mother because your first idea was to fight for a spot on the bed.

But sadly, the week had ended and you had to leave, you hugged Logan and Oscar goodbye and made your way to Monaco, where you'd spend the rest of the summer vacation with Arthur.

He'd invited you not wanting to be alone while his brothers had their girlfriends and the last time he'd invited one of his friends from Prema, his mom had pulled him aside and given him the 'you know you can tell me anything, right, son?' he'd simply told her that he was just a friend, and anyways she should have been having the conversation with Charles anyway, with whatever he had going with Max, or with Carlos or Pierre.

You were a little nervous to go, never having been around his family before. You'd met Charles before and had become pretty good friends with him and Max but his mom? His Eldest brother? That was a whole other story.

He picked you up at the airport, drove you to the house, you offered to uber as you weren't allowed to drive in Monaco anymore (its a long story) when you walked in you hadn't realised everyone would be over and were currently on Arthur's back trying to get your phone back for the boy, which he had stolen when he saw the picture of you and Logan, oscar had sent you.

You looked around the room to find Charles, his girlfriend, his eldest brother, and their mother, staring at the two of you with wide eyes.

You jumped off your friends' back, snatching your phone in the process, "Um, hi, I'm Y/n, nice to meet you all!" You smiled hugging Charles and shaking hands with everyone else, trying to ignore your entrance.

"I'll go get the bags, yeah," he muttered as he left, his eldest brother following him.

"Maman, C'est une amie d'Arthur, celle dont je t'ai parlé," (Mom, She's one of Arthur's friends, the one I told you about), Charles said something to his mother in French, you tried to decipher with whatever Arthur had taught you over the years but they spoke too fast.

"Celui qui l'a emmené faire la fête?" (The one who took him to party?) She replied, her voice displaying disappointment, making the girl awkwardly standing next to the door frown at Charles for translation.

"Maman..." Charles began but his mother shushed him, making him look down.

Suddenly, the older woman's face and body language changed, doing a total 180, "Y/n, I've heard a lot about you, from Arthur and Charles!" She said with a smile, making the girl slightly jump in surprise, "Come on, sit, the boys will get your bags," she invited the youngest woman to sit and nodded at Charles to help get the bags, he wanted to protest but was nudged in the ribs by Alexandra, making him walk out in betrayal.

"Uh, hi guys," she said awkwardly feeling a little out of place. She felt like she was in front of a jury assessing her every move to give her life in prison and by the look on the mother's face, they were leaning in favour of the death penalty.

"Hi, Y/n," Alexandra began, quickly leaning forward as soon as her boyfriend left the house, " I've seen you around the paddock before, but mostly in Mclaren and Williams," She began, "I thought you were dating Oscar, right? Or Logan?" She asked making the girl cringe, she couldn't imagine dating one of her friends.

"Um, no, we're just friends, all four of us," she explained, this is so weird.

"And what about the hyper little British one?" Pascale asked making you laugh,

"Lando? I'm going to save his name like that from now on!" You smiled, "No, no, not at all, I think he's a little too invested in Carlos to even think about dating," you joked hoping to change the conversation, Alexandra smiled but Pascale remained unchanged.

"I've noticed, he's a sweet boy," she nodded, "Are you dating my son?" She asked, not sugarcoating anymore, making you choke on your spit, Alexandra quickly rushed to your side, patting your back.

"Thank you," you took the glass of water she offered, "I'm not dating Arthur!" You yelled as soon as you finished drinking the water, making his mother look at you suspiciously at first then nod.

"Thank you for being truthful Y/n," She began, "My kids are everything to me and they only have me to protect them. Lorenzo and Charles are old enough to understand just how cruel life can be, but Arthur's still naive," she explained slowly. It seemed like Alex had heard the same lecture too.

"Maman! Tell Charlie to stop kicking me!" Arthurs's voice rang as the trio stepped inside, proving her point.

"Maman, please, both of them won't shut up!" Lorenzo complained at his brother's antics, in true older sibling fashion.

"Only because you are stupid," Both Arthur and Charles replied at the same time making the eldest groan and place your bag down, to swat the others. Charles had your duffle and Arthur held your haversack, currently using it as a weapon to hit his brothers.

"Boys!" Their mother called out, making them all stop and pick up your bags, and carry them to some room in the house. Alexandra smiled at their antics and Pascale just shook her head.

"Sweetheart, come on, let's have some dinner, I'm sure the flight has you hungry and tired," She practically dragged you to the dinner table. You sat next to Arthur, Alex and Charles in front of you and Lorenzo and Pascle and either head of the table.

After the strange test of sorts, everything was normal, you joked along with the others, and the brothers often fought making you and Alex look at each other and laugh. You were getting along with her the most, being quite close in age and humour. However, as the night continued the jet lag became more and more of a problem.

Arthur was the first to notice your head falling as you sat, "Maman, We are going to turn in," you both began to get up but Lorenzo spoke up, making you stop.

" Où penses-tu aller?" (Where do you think you're going?) The older man asked.

"Ma chambre ?" (My room?) Arthur answered.

"Non, elle couche avec Alexandra, tu restes avec Charlie," (No, she's sleeping with Alexandra, you're staying with Charlie) He replied making both brothers angry.

They started talking over each other, yelling and shouting, you definitely made out more than one curse word. You looked over at Alex silently asking if she knew what was happening, but she just shrugged.

"You're so annoying, Lorenzo, Je jure devant Dieu que j'aurai une chambre d'hôtel !" (I swear to God I will get a hotel room!) He screamed making everyone quiet down.

"Don't yell at me, it was maman's idea," he looked at his brothers a little guiltily, making everyone look towards the eldest woman on the table.

"It's okay, Charlie, reste avec ta petite amie, Arthur soit avec ton ami." (Charlie, stay with your girlfriend, Arthur be with your friend.) Everyone seemed to be okay with the decision, though you didn't know what the decision was.

Arthur patted your shoulder, making you get up and follow him to his room. As soon as you walked in you kicked your shoes off, falling face-first on the soft king-sized bed. He followed suit, dropping himself on the opposite end of the bed, and turning his head to face you.

"I don't think your brother and mum like me very much, Princie," You spoke in a soft voice, too tired to even sit up.

"Nah, they are just over-protective," he answered, his voice nothing but a whisper.

Slowly your eyes drifted shut, letting yourself succumb to sleep.

"Bonne nuit, chérie."

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1 @eugene-emt-roe @fangirl-dot-com @landosgirlxoxo @aquangxl @sachaa-ff @tyna-19 @assholeinatrenchcoat

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fruitcoops · 6 months

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May It Never Leave You

Fic O'Ween Day 11: Monster--or, What You Have, What You Hate (Logan's Version). Everyone's favorite dead horse is back, babey. Kudos to @noots-fic-fests for their hard work and @lumosinlove for these characters (and an outstanding Vaincre update today) .

TW memory loss, hospitals

Sunlight yawned over the horizon. Logan ticked another day in his head. 52 hours. Nearly a new record. The last time he didn’t sleep for two days, he and Finn had just finished playing Yale.

At least the apartment smelled better than their dorm had. Leave it to Leo and Finn’s monthly Target dates to find the best candles.

His head hurt. His chest hurt. Even his fucking eyes hurt, like he had kept them open after diving into the lake. It was a miserable way to feel in an otherwise perfect place—but then again, very little had been perfect recently.

Leo stirred in the curve of his body, not much more than a twitch. He hadn’t been sleeping well, either. Finn was the only one able to keep his eyes closed for longer than an hour (if that) and even he was quiet during the day. Dawn caught their phone screens as it filtered through the sliver of the blinds, all lined up on the nightstand with ringers turned to the highest setting. Just in case.

Logan blinked hard and pressed back into Finn. He needed to feel something solid; needed to feel Finn shift, his arm tightening around Logan’s waist. Something between his lungs throbbed with blunt pain.

“We should visit today.”

Leo’s voice was dull and coarse. Logan nodded into the nape of his neck.

“I want—” He broke off with an audible swallow. “I want to check on him.”

Sirius had woken for nearly twenty minutes the day before. James had been there, and Remus, of course. Logan wasn’t sure they had left yet. Remus certainly hadn’t looked like it. But their excitement was momentary at best when Sirius’ sleepy greetings turned incoherent, and he slipped back under for the rest of the day. Logan shook the whole way home.

“D’accord,” he murmured, tucking his knees into the hollow of Leo’s own. His belly was tense under Logan’s palm; he rubbed slow circles over it and kissed the curve of Leo’s neck. “We’ll go.”

Finn’s alarm went off at eight. They let it ring itself out. Nine minutes passed and it went again, a cheerful jangle that faded into silence. Slender fingers curled up against Logan’s collarbone. Finn’s cheek was flat on his shoulder blade, shaky breaths passing warm air over his skin. He let go for less than a minute. The alarm didn’t ring again.

Leo had the courage to check his email at nine and Logan half-read it over his shoulder, little blue dots disappearing unread into “[Gmail] Trash” under a thumb with the nail chewed down to the quick. He kissed the little-dipper trail of faint freckles up Leo’s shoulder and nudged at his wrist until he set the phone down with a tired smile and allowed Logan to coax him onto his belly, shifting closer. His cheek was pillow-creased when he turned. They looked at each other for a few seconds before Logan passed his thumbpad along Leo’s cheekbone, and blue eyes fell shut.

They didn’t get out of bed until ten o’clock. Breakfast was a quiet affair despite the radio and the sizzle of the stove. “Someone should text Remus,” Leo said as he passed eggs to Logan to crack. “See if he needs anything.”

Logan fought a wince. Sleep. Therapy. For someone to physically remove him from that place. According to James, they had only just managed to make him take a walk around the upper floor of the hospital. He’d been sleeping in a chair. Logan hadn’t pressed for more information, and the guilt gnawed at his ribs. “We can bring…sandwiches. Or something. Maybe books? A change of clothes?”

“Toothbrush,” Leo suggested, prodding at the scrambled eggs. “That might be nice.”

Logan carefully sliced another section of the green onion before speaking. “James brought his toothbrush. And a hoodie, I think. I can ask what they need.”

“Are they letting him stay?”

“Loops?”

“James.”

“Non, only immediate family.”

“I’m so glad they got married.”

Logan turned and saw Leo do the same. Finn was rinsing his fingertips under the faucet, but nothing in his face told Logan he was paying any attention to it. The purple under his eyes was nearly mauve in this light. “Me, too,” Leo said softly.

“Just—can you imagine?” Finn cleared his throat, shutting the water off. “I mean, Loops would be losing it. Immediate family. I wonder if they’d call…y’know.”

Logan wasn’t going to think about that. He had been trying very, very hard not to think about that for nearly three days, now. None of them needed monsters under the bed when the real thing was bad enough on its own.

“Well, they didn’t,” Logan said briskly. The handle of the knife dug into his hand; he forced it into steadiness and moved the next handful of onion over. At the stove, Leo’s shoulders were tight up near his ears. “And we’ll go see him, and it’ll be fine.”

Sirius?

Hmm-mmm.

Buddy, can you hear me? It’s James.

Bonjour.

Tremz, call the nurse in real quick—hey, keep your eyes open. How are you feeling?

Mmm. Bon. Head hurts. Remus?

I’m here, I’m right here.

Tiny green shreds sprinkled onto their eggs, bright and clean. A ‘thanks, cher’ painted onto his temple by a kiss.

Alright, Mr. Black, let’s take a look at that forehead.

Non.

Is it hurting?

Game day. Pick up Reg from practice.

Mr. Black, please try to stay awake.

Baby, just listen—

Gotta pick him up. Reg’s practice.

“You want bacon?”

Logan blinked down at the plates. It all looked beautiful, like his mother’s wax fruit in the living room back home. “Sounds great.” He kissed Leo’s shoulder and dusted the last bit of green onion onto Finn’s portion. “Merci. I’ll get forks.”

A little shiver ran through Leo. He tucked his arms across his body, as if the apartment wasn’t set to seventy-five degrees year-round, but smiled down at Logan all the same. “Thanks.”

“Are you cold?”

“Nah, not really.”

Footsteps padded over and then Finn was there, tugging his sweatshirt off and slipping it over Leo’s head. If nothing else, it got a laugh out of him. Weak—but there. Finn’s glasses sat sideways on his face and Logan poked them back into place with a gentle swipe down the razor-straight bridge of his nose. “I made cocoa,” he said, raspier than Logan was accustomed to this late in the morning. “I’m not really—it’s not a coffee morning, I guess, but if you want some I can—”

His mouth fell quiet against the inside of Leo’s shoulder, muffled by his own hoodie. Logan saw his chest lurch in Leo’s tight hold. He felt a little dumb attempting to wrap his arms around them both and cursed his proportions for the hundredth time, but neither seemed to mind. Leo was still trembling just slightly. Finn was board-stiff; his hand came up and twisted in the pocket of Logan’s pajama pants to draw him close.

It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, and Logan was trying so hard to be angry.

Leo gave a light cough. “I’m really fucking scared.”

That first night, Logan had fallen asleep praying he would wake in his bed in Rimouski, buried under the heavy blue duvet he had stolen from Aubrey when she redecorated her room on her 13th birthday. It was old and soft and safe and lightly scented with the lavender soap their grandmother mailed from Nice every month. But his stomach had rioted at the thought of waking alone, the last ten years a dream. As horrible as this was, as sick as he felt, God would have to pry this from his cold dead hands before he gave it up. He wished he knew how to tell them that.

Finn was hot at the nape when Logan leaned against him. “We’ll eat,” he suggested, tracing a loose heart over Leo’s mid-back. “Breakfast looks amazing. We’ll shower. I’ll call James. They’re not going anywhere.”

“…I don’t want to get my hair wet,” Finn said quietly.

“I want to take a bath,” Leo murmured into the top of his head. “You can come with me.”

Finn nodded, then swallowed hard. “I don’t want him to wake up alone.”

“He won’t,” Logan said. When Finn didn’t show a sign of hearing him, he nibbled at the curve of his shoulder; a smile twitched his lips. “Hey. Hey. He’s got half the team there already. We’ll bring sandwiches and be popular, d’accord?”

“You need to be muzzled.”

“That sounds fun.”

Finn snorted, pushing at him without taking his face from the sanctuary of Leo’s chest. “Get outta here.”

“Come eat before the food gets cold.” Disregard that nothing sounded worse than eating right now. They had bigger things to worry about, and none of it would be made better on an empty stomach. But maybe, maybe they’d have a kinder day. And maybe Sirius would wake up for real this time. They just had to take it in stages, one baby step at a time.

One. Leo and Finn took a bath.

Two. Logan scrubbed the breakfast dishes.

Three. He tucked Leo close and tight to himself while they put the lunch order in on the couch.

Four. His kiss to Finn’s cheek lingered before his hand came anywhere close to the passenger side door.

Five. Remus was on the floor.

Sirius’ door was closed, and Remus was on the floor.

Logan pushed the takeout bag into Olli’s hands and broke into a run.

“What happened?” His knees smarted on contact with the tiles. Dumo was slackjawed and Remus was fucking white. “Loops? Is he okay? Did something go wrong?”

He’s gone, he’s gone, we lost him.

Someone was speaking, Leo was speaking, Remus was staring into the void like the world had fallen out from under him. His arm was loose and weak under Logan’s hand; he eased his grip and watched Remus’ throat bob. A breathless gasp broke from him before any words. “He doesn’t love me anymore.”

“No, Remus, that’s not…” Dumo looked exhausted. Sounded exhausted. Logan could feel himself beginning to shake, deep in his core where the fear snapped and burned. Deep brown eyes slid over the group before fixing Logan to the scrap of a planet beneath him. “Sirius is alright,” Dumo said firmly. “He’s awake and Pots is with him right now.”

Then why are we all on the fucking floor? he wanted to shout. The burning raced up Logan’s throat and into his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

For all that Logan’s terror blinded him, Dumo didn’t look well, either. “We don’t know the full story, but—”

Nonsense bumbled from Remus’ mouth. His eyes had slipped to the pale tile, pupils dilated, a hundred years away. An exhale rattled in him like a sob chained down. “Five percent. They told me five percent.”

Logan swayed. A hand steadied him when he sat back. Dumo hadtold him about the five percent. Five percent had been hooked in the back of his mind for 60 hours and shaken him from half-waking dreams. But five percent was nothing—was practically zero. Five percent was a liability figure told to prevent a lawsuit, nothing more.

Remus was lifted to his feet, barely, and Logan watched him sit hard in one of the stiff chairs. No tears striped his ashen face. Beside him, Dumo was blinking fast. Olli passed him a napkin from the paper bag Logan had picked up not fifteen minutes ago from the place Remus liked because they had soft-serve ice cream. The place Sirius liked because Remus liked it.

He wasn’t sure if he could get up, now. It seemed he had left his knees at the cashier’s counter by mistake.

“Lo.”

A funny noise escaped him at pressure on his back.

“Lo, baby, come up with me. Come on.”

Thomas was holding Remus around the shoulders. His mouth turned down at the sides while they spoke in low voices.

Logan couldn’t help himself. “Did we lose him?”

“No,” Finn said immediately, voice dropping hoarse. “God, Logan, no, we didn’t lose him.”

“Five percent chance of severe memory loss.” That first night had been so long and so hard. He had stammered his way through a call with his father, though he couldn’t remember a word they exchanged. He knew he had stayed plastered to Dumo’s side for hours while Sirius went through scan after scan, fast asleep. Finn let him push close, let him pretend he could hide in the hollow of his arm. “We lost him.”

It was audacious to claim any part of his pain alongside whatever Sirius must be feeling—whatever Remus must be feeling. Logan couldn’t help it. The chasm of his belly beat not fair! into his guts. Sirius had done nothing wrong. He didn’t deserve five percent.

“I want to go back to bed,” he mumbled.

Finn’s hand rubbed along his back. “Okay. We can do that. We’ll get up, we’ll go home—”

“I want to wake up right now.”

“Oh. Oh, Lo…”

“This is not supposed to happen.” Tears clumped on his lashes. He refused to let them fall. He had no right. “This is not. He has to be okay.”

“Pots is with him.” Finn brought him close, and shame burbled up at the way Logan clutched him all too tight. They shouldn’t be doing this with Remus right there. “Cap’s got a lot of good people looking out for him right now. Nobody better. And I have you, and we’ve got Knutty, and we’re just going to take a minute for everyone to calm down.”

Finn was using his storybook voice. Hills and valleys, nearly singsong. It set some part of Logan’s brain mute with old comfort. “I need—I need to help.” His throat scraped when he breathed. “I need to get up or I’m going to stay here for a really long time.”

“I know.” Of course he did. Finn always knew what Logan wanted before Logan did. Drinks, food, kisses. This. He was already braced against Logan to boost him up, for Christ’s sake.

If Logan gave him double that love in return, it still wouldn’t be enough. Not for Finn, who deserved all and more. He wanted to pack him up in softness and seal it with a kiss, keep him somewhere safe and kind forever. They stood together—only a little wobble before he righted himself. Leo had pushed a sandwich into Thomas’ hands and was trying to shepherd the others into it as well. He didn’t like the tension creeping up the back of Leo’s neck.

Remus was still staring at the door as if he’d seen a ghost. Logan didn’t want to go in there. He caused damage. He was shit at fixing it.

He really wanted to be angry at this.

“Please eat.” Leo’s voice was tight and pitched at the start, forced into his measured baritone. His nailbed was white where it pressed into thin wax paper; Logan made a silent note to get him some water from the fountain down the hall.

“Hmm?” Dumo blinked a few times, then startled, as if he hadn’t seen Leo there. His gaze slid from Leo’s face to the sandwich, and he took it with a wan smile. “Ah. Merci.”

He picked at the sticker sealing it, but that was all. Logan had spent too much time around the man day in and day out to be fooled into thinking he was anywhere on this plane right now. Distant eyes and tight wrists. A rigid back, like when they thought Marc broke a rib at hockey practice. Logan wondered if Remus could hear his mind whirring from the adjacent chair.

“Loops.”

Thick gray sleeves sheltered his mouth from view.

“Remus.”

Without the vibrant red letters, the lack of color washed him out. Thomas’ deep blue shirt was harsh next to Remus’ grayscale.

“Re,” Thomas tried again, nudging him ever so gently. Remus made a faint noise. “Hey, you want a sandwich?”

“Not hungry.”

Leo’s brows pitched in the middle—Logan wanted to smooth it away, to kiss it into the ether. Distress was a difficult thing to watch on Leo’s round face. “You need to eat,” Thomas said. He took the proffered sandwich with a quick squeeze of Leo’s forearm, and slid it into the space between Remus’ thighs and body. “Whenever you’re ready, just…we’re here.”

“You should go,” Remus murmured into his forearms.

“No.”

“He’s awake. Not much to do now.”

“No.”

“I don’t—” His voice caught and Logan felt his stomach plummet. Not now, not now. “There’s not a lot to do here. The nurses’ll take care of him.”

“We’re here to take care of you, too,” Thomas said quietly.

Remus closed his eyes.

“Ouais,” Logan managed. Finn’s arm pulsed around his waist; he cleared his throat, willing the clamminess from his palms. “Both of you—yeah, whatever you need.”

It had been such a fucking fight during those first terrible hours. Nearly midnight, and still no answers. Adrenaline and exhaustion, scraps of illness battling with the raging fire inside him while every door slammed in his face with a no, no, family only, I’m sorry. Watching them roll Sirius to a scan room. Leaving Remus and his shaky, feeble smile under the scathing fluorescents. Come back tomorrow. I’m sure someone will call you with an update. It didn’t matter that Sirius would have wanted him there.

Well—that was debatable. Sirius probably would have preferred to pass out in some quiet, dark corner and pick himself up without anyone knowing. But Logan had never let him do that before, and he wasn’t about to start now. Goddamn martyr. If it wasn’t for Leo’s quaking grip on his hand, he would have bulldozed past every too-bright white coat in the place and planted himself at Sirius’ bedside just like Remus had been allowed to. He was always there for Sirius. It wasn’t fair to keep him away because of a silly thing like blood relation.

Leo tucked his phone into his back pocket. “Visiting hours start in twenty minutes.”

A silent request filled with bare-rock hope. Logan took the empty chair and cupped his hand over the back of Leo’s. “I’d like to see him,” he offered. He hoped his meaning came through—I’m here. I love you. I’m here because I love you.

The hand beneath his own turned over and twined their fingers, pale and straight against his own fucked-up knuckles. His hands looked so blunt when they were together. Let alone when Finn, all willowy strength, toyed with his fingers. It was like comparing a sledgehammer to a harpist.

Twenty minutes was a long time to ask Finn to sit still. He may have been more staid than usual, but that didn’t stop him from popping up and down no less than four times for water, trash runs, and to check in with the nurses.

More than once, it was clear he was moving just to move. Logan couldn’t blame him. He needed stillness and silence to process, but the flowing magnitude of Finn’s heart wasn’t meant to sit quietly. He had always hated that part of his concussions the most: more than being benched, more than fear, more than the blinding pain Logan had dampened with his shirtsleeve too many times. If his body couldn’t move, his brain had to, and he was denied both in those dark rooms. Logan had always done his best to ease the strain in whatever way he could. He’d pour himself to drought if it would cool the fire under Finn’s skin.

“Lo?”

Leo had scooted closer on his chair, mere inches from sitting in Logan’s lap. He wouldn’t mind that. Closeness sounded good right now. Logan smoothed the ladder of his knuckles. “Quoi?”

“I…” Leo broke off with a slow exhale through his nose. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Was he looking for a lie? The truth? Was he looking for don’t worry, I know what I’m doing or I keep thinking I’ll blink and find Sydney in there with her appendix gone? Logan figured he had fumbled pretty hard this morning. I’m really fucking scared. He still didn’t know how to respond to that. Maybe this could be his second chance. Leo was so good at giving those.

He shifted over and let Leo lay his head on his shoulder, resting his own against golden chick-fluff curls. Words rolled between his teeth and over his tongue for a long moment. “I don’t either,” he said haltingly. Finn probably would have sounded more confident. “This is new. C’est horrible. I’m—this is horrible. It’s so horrible.”

Remus and Thomas were making their way down the hallway to the lobby. Something about a phone call, Logan thought. To Lily, or Remus’ parents. It was just good to see them standing. Leo sniffled.

He ducked his head and let his lips rest against Leo’s forehead, right under the tuft of gray hair he twirled around his finger on long nights when sleep escaped them both. “We’re here, though. That counts for something. He’ll be glad to see us.”

“He pushed Loops.”

“…what?”

“He pushed Loops,” Leo repeated. “ ‘S what Dumo was saying to Finn when you got us water. Cap woke up, freaked out, and pushed Loops.”

“Oh.”

“I keep—I mean, what if—” Leo groaned softly and sat up, scrubbing at his eyes. “God, I’m just turning it over and over in my head. I don’t want him to yell at me. Which is so fucking selfish.”

“When has Cap ever yelled at you?”

“It’s not Cap, though, that’s the problem.”

Logan tried not to flinch.

Leo shook his head. “I want to see him. I really need to, just so I stop thinking about it.”

The large clock on the wall ticked through another minute. They were technically allowed to go in now. Logan wasn’t sure his stomach could handle it just yet. Finn’s foot tapped restlessly ten paces from them while he read one of the dozens of bulletin boards, hands clasped behind his neck. “I wasn’t there from the start.”

He felt Leo look at him. “What do you mean?”

“When Cap was a rookie.” He had heard stories. Seen pictures. It looked bad enough to make him grateful for Harvard, just for some distance in time. He watched Finn worry at the full curve of his lower lip. “But…you know, he was still pretty frozen over when I got here. It wasn’t until Loops that he opened up. Even when they weren’t out. There was only a few months you were here where he was quiet.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“You were new.” Logan shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. He was a lot of things, but he was never mean. Never yelled.” He glanced back at Leo and tried for a smile. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, soleil.”

“Excuse me?” They both turned at the sound of a new voice. Sneakers creaked on the waxed floors. A dark-haired woman smiled at them, flipping a page on her clipboard. “Dr. Manuel asked me to let you know that visiting hours will run from now until eight o’clock. No more than four people at a time, please.”

She seemed awfully calm. Logan wondered if she had been told about Sirius’ condition. Now that he thought about it, had any doctors come and gone since they arrived?

“Fantastic,” he said. A win was a win was a blessing in this mess. “Thank you.”

He could feel his hand shaking in Leo’s when they stood.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. “We both lived with him. I’m—” This is wrong. “We’re close. You and me.”

Sirius studied him with a wariness that made Logan want to curl up under one of the hall chairs and never come out. His next breath would be pure smoke from the flaming wreckage of hope inside him, he was sure of it. “Parles-tu français?”

Stop talking like that, stop it, why do you sound like that? “Ouais.”

He looked small in the bed. How could he look so small? Where did he learn that, and how fast could Logan run to get away from it? “Tu t’appelles Logan? Un nom Quebecois?”

Leo’s hand must be hurting from how tight he gripped it. Do not let me go. Sirius had always teased him for his fantaisie bon français drilled into him by his grandmother in Nice but this was not right, not right, not right, from the way Sirius’ voice folded in around his words to the lower, softer timbre just barely letting them free. No, Logan thought, he didn’t like this at all. “Ouais. Je viens de Rimouski.”

“Ah. Montréal, pour moi.” His smile was tentative, almost apologetic. Three days ago, Logan had teased him for this very conversation.

“Je sais,” he managed.

A faint humming noise answered him. He had already seen Sirius’ eyes dart over the three of them, clever and quick even when he was concussed. A subtle jerk of the chin made his mouth parch. “Qui sont-ils?”

“Mes copains.”

Logan didn’t have words for the complicated expression that flitted across Sirius’ face. “Les deux?”

“Oui.” He tried for a wry smile, for anything that could quell the riot of too much inside him. “Tu les appelles Bambi et Fleur. Tu m’appelles Thumper, espèce de connard.”

And almost—almost—that got him a grin. It was almost—almost—enough to make up for the ice-water panic filling his lungs with each passing breath. He didn’t like the smell of this place. Remus’ backpack by the chair, where he had been using it as a pillow. The plastic cups that were never stiff enough for a patient to drink from on their own. His mother had helped Sydney drink for three hours after her surgery, while her hands were still too weak not to spill on herself. And when Finn—

“Rookie.”

Logan felt Leo slump into him with a shaky breath. “Yeah. Sorry. Yeah, that’s—you call me that.”

There was a whining in his ears. A mosquito, or a siren. The sheets were too crisp. They would make his hands itch. Leo’s hand slipped from his own as he wrapped them around himself and fuck it all sideways, Logan couldn’t even comfort his boyfriend properly. He wanted to put an arm around his waist. His shoulder refused to unlock.

Sirius’ gaze dragged over him before sliding to Finn, brighter than before. “He calls you names in French.”

Oh, you piece of shit, Logan thought with startling clarity. “Sirius!”

“It’s true.” Sirius had been stoic for the first part of Logan’s rookie year, fresh off the rush of a disappointing not quite in the second round of the playoffs for the second year in a row. Logan would never forget the relief of nights when Sirius visited the Dumais house, putting aside the professionalism for a dinner that was close enough to home to ease his aching. Sirius had never asked him about Finn, either, content with the simple knowledge that they used to play together at Harvard and still tore it up on the ice.

“Finn,” Finn was saying. “Or Harzy, doesn’t matter much.”

“So you’re on the team, too?”

Logan had needed that presence when he arrived. And the…separation. The wound had been too raw for him to survive someone asking about Finn without the excuse of not knowing what words to use. “All three,” he said now. Sirius smiled, just slightly. His heart gave an unsteady thud-thud-thud. “What, you thought you were the only gay NHL player?”

The smile vanished. Too much. It slammed into Logan like a rogue wave and he bit hard on the side of his tongue. Leo was apologizing now. Apologizing for him. He would never learn, never had. Either he never tried or he pushed so hard a chance shattered in his hands. He could see it on Sirius’ face, all that confusion and fear mixed in with abrupt, sincere concern when James stood with a touch to his shoulder.

A tear slipped down James’ nose when he brushed past them. The whining turned to muddled clangs. What could he even say? I’m not gay? That wouldn’t help. The conversation had moved on; Leo had moved on, leading him forward to the plastic chairs by the bedside.

If he sat, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up fast enough when the feeling tiptoeing up behind him finally grabbed on. The world tipped a degree off its axis and he clenched the back of Leo’s chair in both hands. Remus’ backpack was a lonely black lump by the thin blanket someone had brought for him. Itchy. Everything in these places was itchy. It clung to Logan’s skin for days. He knew how it would feel to pillow his head with rough polyester. White caught his eye—a tag? Remus Lupin, #10, Varsity Hockey Harvard University.

Just a zipper. Tiny Nike logo.

Stitching on the front Tremblay #10—

A patch. Clumsy hand-sewn stitches reinforced on the equipment room machine by an exasperated Molly. Remus loved that backpack.

Sirius was looking straight at him. “Il y a des morceaux.”

How could pieces be all that was left of three and a half years?

A pale face blurred with freckles and Logan blinked rapidly to shake them away. Leo needed this. Leo needed him to keep it together. He could do this.

He moved one hand over, until his fingertips brushed Finn’s sweater.

“You and I run plays after practice sometimes, if I’ve been having a tough time of things,” Leo said. His voice was significantly steadier than before. It was working. Logan could do this. He could help. “I don’t think you and Harzy hang out a lot one-on-one, but Lo’s usually your go-to for video games ‘n shit. We have dinner sometimes with you and—”

The air went stale fast enough to make him choke on it. Finn shifted in his chair.

Genuine puzzlement creased Sirius’ face. “I cook?”

He couldn’t do this.

“I can’t do this.”

The door was a million miles away. He was gripping the handle in four steps. The dam was breaking, knocking the sight from his eyes. He braced both hands on cold cream paint, praying, praying that Remus was nowhere near.

Tears were a funny thing. He had never really figured out how to do them right—or at least, how to do them loudly, like when Noelle skinned her knee on the deck and screamed loud enough to make the neighbors come running. For Logan, it felt more like Leo’s beat-to-hell watering can, if the duct tape holding it together ever gave up. Everything kept in, and then everything rushing out at once. Breath and water and salt alike. Rarely noise, but he still pressed his elbow over his mouth and dug his hand into the frame of the bulletin board. Always, always, rawness to the marrow of his bones.

“Lo, oh my god.”

“I’m sorry.” A guttural sound died in his chest. “I tried.”

It was all he had. It would have to be enough. He just—he didn’t do head injuries. Broken fingers and busted ribs and jammed joints, fine, but he couldn’t fucking stand sitting and watching. There was only so much reading he could do. Only so many articles he could struggle through.

“Logan—”

“I’m sorry.”

Looking was a mistake. Finn’s face fell. “Hey, baby—”

“I’m sorry.” Logan sucked in a breath and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes to force the tears back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Lo…”

Finn’s hand brushed between his shoulder blades and he flinched, turning away. The tears were fighting him now—fighting him so hard it made his throat ache. He could feel his pulse behind his eyes and ground his teeth. “No, no, no, no.”

“It’s okay.” Finn’s voice had gone soft and unsure and Logan hated himself. “Baby, it’s okay.”

He shook his head. It was never okay. Not like this.

“It’s okay.” He felt Finn move closer, but he didn’t try to touch again. “He’s awake now. He’s making sense.”

A jagged sound punctured Logan’s lung. “It doesn’t.”

“No, I…” Finn faltered. “He’ll be okay, baby. Come on, come sit down.”

Logan’s stomach fell to the floor. “No.”

“Can you—please give me something to work with, Logan, this isn’t—”

“I can’t sit down,” he said thickly. The light blinded him when he tilted his head back for a few harsh breaths. He wanted to cover his face, but his hands shook too bad to be any use. “I can’t just wait here, I’ve done that, I can’t do it again, I won’t.”

He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t sit and wait, forbidden from crossing the threshold because he wasn’t family, even though nobody loved Finn like he did and nobody could take care of him like he could—

A shudder rattled through Logan and he sealed a palm over his mouth. The waves howled and clawed at every one of his hairline cracks.

“What’s going on?” Finn sounded sad. Not worry-sad, but different-sad. Confusion-and-guilt-sad.

Muck clogged Logan’s throat. He took a few hitching breaths to clear a path. “It’s Sirius,” he said. “And he’s hurt, and every time I fucking blink I see your face instead and I still can’t do a goddamn thing, Finn, I can’t…”

He leaned into Finn’s hovering hand and fell against his chest with a low noise, pulling at his arms until he was safe.

Finn was here in his sweater and his jeans and Logan was safe.

He couldn’t stop the hurricane. The throbbing and the drenching, out of control. He had let it run its course in Remus’ office, in his basement bedroom, and now here. With Finn. Finn who was safe and whole. Something ugly muffled itself in the broad chevrons across Finn’s neckline, but there was no flinch to meet him.

“Let it out.”

God, it hurt so bad.

“You’re doing great, baby.”

This wasn’t a cry-solution. This had to be a Heather-solution. Logan wasn’t looking forward to that.

Finn’s nose was cold where it dovetailed against Logan’s cheek. “Love you so much,” he whispered. “So, so much.”

The compression of his arms outstripped any weighted blanket by a landslide. Logan flattened his palm against the back of Finn’s neck. There was no energy left in him to keep down a whimper when he felt Finn stroke through the back of his hair and leave a kiss on his cheekbone.

“I’m—” Logan gulped down a fragile attempt at a breath. “I love—fuck shit—”

“Shh, shh, stop.”

“I tried.”

Finn’s gentle scritch to his nape silenced him. How long had they been swaying? Finn had a funny way of coaxing him into a dance before he even knew what was happening. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, voice breaking. “Jesus, Lo, I can’t even imagine.”

“It’s—it was Syd, and then it was you, and now it’s Sirius—” His breathing hitched on each name, as if unwilling to let him speak, but he was so tired of the silence. “—and what if I lost you, what if you forgot me, how could he forget us? Pieces, Finn, he said pieces.”

If he tried, he could probably stop. The duct tape could be slapped back on. Not perfectly, but he’d manage.

He didn’t really want to.

A gross, clogged sniffle made him feel a tiny bit better. “I’m always so fucking useless here.”

Finn was quiet for long enough that Logan could match their breathing. That, too, gentled the storm. The individual floor tiles were starting to reappear. “You helped me drink water for days,” Finn finally said. “You cooled me down. You slept next to me in a twin XL for—what, a week? You read every assignment, out loud, for two. You made Cap smile.” A sigh gusted over the back of his neck. “You’re not a doctor or anything, but I don’t think anyone can call you useless.”

“I can.”

“I’ve never been a fan of the way you talk to yourself, sweetheart.”

A problem for another day. “Leo?”

“They’re chilling. He’s just glad to be there, I think.”

Distance made him stress. Logan was familiar with the feeling. “You should go with him.”

“Hmm.”

“No, really. I’m feeling better.”

“Hmm.”

“Are you—are you okay?”

Finn took a big breath, let it go in an unsteady huff. “This is just…sad. And weird. And sad. I don’t know.”

Baby steps. One at a time. Finn was here and safe, Leo was right where he wanted to be, and Sirius wasn’t going anywhere fast. Let it out, Finn had said. God knew he was trying. He pried his hands off the back of Finn’s sweater and flexed them, pulled his elbows in until he could hold Finn’s waist. A three-count to lift his head, then a foiled attempt to dry his face before Finn got there. His sleeve took the salt and water before Logan could so much as raise a hand. Despite himself, he laughed.

“Let me take care of you,” Finn said through falsely-gritted teeth, planting an aggressive kiss to Logan’s forehead. He surveyed him for a few seconds, head tilted, before his lower lip slid out. “Aw, baby.”

“I know,” Logan said thickly. “Not everyone can be a pretty crier like Knutty.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Still.”

“I don’t love you because you’re a pretty crier.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not.”

“Yeah, dipshit, I know.” Finn cuffed the outside of his shoulder and Logan dipped his chin against a smile. “I’m aw, baby-ing because you’re sad and I wanna go take you home and wrap you in a blanket.”

Logan sighed. His head fell forward to bump Finn’s collarbone. “I feel like an asshole.”

“Why?”

“Left you all in there.”

“Not sure anyone can blame you.”

“I can.”

“You don’t count.”

“Is Sirius mad at me?”

“Honest to god—and this is really fucking morbid, so like, mea culpa—I don’t think Sirius remembers enough to be mad at us.”

Logan’s lip quavered. “I got him sick.”

“Everybody got sick. You don’t know that it was you.”

Lo’s usually your go-to. “I spend the most time with him.”

“…pretty sure that’s Loops, actually.”

“Okay, well—”

“You’re not winning this one,” Finn interrupted. “Literally everyone on the team was sick at some point, and we saw each other every single day. You want to point fingers? Blame coach for playing Cap’s line that long.”

It was so hard to come up with a defense when Finn was always right. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Here’s the plan.” Finn gave a little oof as he helped Logan straighten up and squished his shoulders. There was fine tension around his eyes and mouth that gave way when Logan ran his thumbs over it. “I’m going back inside. You’re going to go find a bagel place for Dumo and Remus. I’ll text you when Knutty and I are done, we’ll figure out bagel dropoff, and then we’re going home and sleeping.” He must have seen Logan’s hesitation, because one auburn brow arched. “Cap’s awake. He’s not perfect, but he’s awake. There’s nothing else we can do.”

“I hate this.”

“Oh, yeah, this is terrible from every angle. Hence going home and sleeping.”

Logan nodded, then tipped his head toward the door. “Go see Le.”

Finn kissed him sweetly, a hand on his jaw, and obliged.

If Finn had been looking for a way to keep Logan occupied, tasking him with finding appropriate late-lunch/ early-dinner bagels was the way to do it. Gryff had dozens—half were closed by this hour, and the other half had to undergo rigorous inspection before Logan would even consider bringing them back to his Manhattan bagel hound of a boyfriend. Remus and Dumo would want coffee, too, even if they didn’t say it. Their respective husband and son was a previously-comatose amnesiac. He couldn’t bring them shitty coffee.

Finally, he found a promising option. Warm interior, short line, music quiet enough to tune out if he needed to. Display cases that were picked over (many customers), but not too empty (still some variety). A clean half-dozen should do.

The barista smiled when he approached the register, despite Logan’s certainly-red eyes and general crustiness. “Welcome in! What can I get started for you?”

“A half-dozen bagels, please. And two medium coffees, light cream, light sugar.”

“What kind of bagels?”

He hadn’t prepared for questions. Why hadn’t he prepared for questions? “Which ones are good?”

“What’s the occasion?”

“My—” Motherfucker. The tears snuck up on him, rushing to the front until he had to tip his head back with a frustrated breath. The barista’s hand hovered over the computer screen. Questions. He should have prepared for questions. There was a reason Finn always ordered for them. A strained, embarrassed smile was all he had to offer. “Desolé. My brother’s in the hospital.” His torso squeezed. “That’s the occasion.”

The barista seemed to freeze for a moment. “I’m…really sorry,” they finally said. “God. Wow. My bad.”

“It’s fine.” Logan shook his head. “Two plain, one sesame, one cheese, and two of the sandwich things, please.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” The barista started to turn, then faced him again, lowering their voice to soft concern. “Do you have someone with you? I just—my cousin was sick, and it was hard to be there alone. If you needed help.”

“He’s awake,” Logan assured them. The next person in line had stepped back a half-meter, looking pointedly at their phone. It was a kindness he hadn’t expected. He watched the barista wrap the two plain bagels before he felt he could trust his voice again. “He’ll be okay.” It felt funny to say aloud. Different than reassuring Leo or Finn. More confident. “We’ve got family around. Friends. We’ll be fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” they said with sincerity he hadn’t prepared for, either. Each bagel was carefully placed in a paper bag; a large sticker held the edge down. The sides were warm when Logan pulled it to himself, and the coffee steamed in two balanced cups.

“How much do I owe you?”

They waved him off. “Please, don’t worry about it. Just…have a good day. Be with your brother.”

He sighed through his nose. “You can’t stop me from tipping you.”

“Oh—”

He stuffed two twenties in the painted mason jar by the register and stepped back immediately, tossing a half-smile to the barista. “Have a nice afternoon.”

I need to go. I really need to do this.

Logan hadn’t fought him on it. He was tired of fighting. And not against Leo—never against Leo. Finn knew New York best; the safest winter roads, the quickest routes. Logan was content to play homemaker and listen to their back-and-forth. He simply fixed two sandwiches and a baggie of snacks for the ride while they talked it out on the couch.

The roads’ll be dark.

I can drive in the dark, it’s not a problem.

I topped off the tank yesterday, but you should refill outside the city if you need to. There are more when you’re out of Manhattan. They’re easier to get to.

Thanks, sweetheart.

You’re going to be okay? Finn’s voice had been tight with worry. Logan wasn’t sure it was entirely about Leo driving. You’re—you know, you should stay here for tonight, we can all go pick him up early tomorrow.

The sound of their soft kiss made the house warm. I won’t be sleeping, Leo had said. I’ll keep you both up. He’s been texting all day and I don’t want to make him get on a train right now.

Logan had managed to tempt him to the couch with a cup of tea and an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. Finn wasn’t far behind, and Leo dozed on his chest for the show’s second half. Thirty minutes could satisfy his worry if he stretched it. The adrenaline shakes had stopped an hour prior.

I don’t like this. Finn’s arms were tight around him while they watched Leo turn his headlights on and wave goodbye with a blown kiss. I don’t like this at all.

He’s a good driver.

I keep thinking…

I know. Did Logan ever. But it’s not us. So we’re here, and we’re helping.

Finn’s nose pushed into the crook of his neck; a deep breath made his stomach hurt.

We’re here, he had repeated, tangling a hand in the back of Finn’s hair. We’re safe. Je t’aime. I have a bagel place I want to show you in the morning.

“LoLo?”

“Hi.” Logan winced at the scratchiness of his own throat and glanced back down the hall, where Katie was just skipping back into Sirius’ room with Regulus in tow. “Hey, hi. What are you up to?”

“Um…folding my laundry, at the moment.” Silence fell over the phone. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. And you’re—you’re okay?”

“Wishing I didn’t have to do my laundry, but yes,” Sydney laughed.

His heart eased. “Bon. Good, okay.”

The sole of his shoe was starting to peel away from the toe. “What’s going on?” Sydney asked, quieter.

He shook his head before remembering she couldn’t see him. “Nothing, just wanted to talk.”

“Did something happen with Finn and Leo?”

“Non, we’re fine.” His stomach was shivery, like he’d gone too long without eating despite the sesame bagel lingering on his tongue. “Figured I’d call.”

“Black is still in the hospital, right?”

“Mhmm.”

“He’s awake?”

I remember you. Not everything, but I know you. “Up and talking. Making sense.”

Sydney hummed. He heard the light thump of a folded sock hitting her drawer. “He’ll be fine, petit. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“I miss you,” he said quickly, before his mouth could force it all back. “I just—I miss you and I wanted to call.”

“Aw, LoLo.” Her sigh crackled in the hospital’s sketchy wifi. “I miss you, too. Christmas feels far this year.”

“Ouais.”

“You want me to get the girls on FaceTime?”

As if he could handle that right now. All three of them, scattered across a continent instead of safe in a pillow fort. “Non, it’s alright. I might…call, or something. I don’t know.”

This was stupid. He shouldn’t have interrupted her evening. But he so desperately needed to hear her voice after catching a sideways glimpse of Sirius’ dark hair from the open door.

“Take your time,” Sydney said easily. “I’m here all night, doing nothing. Have you heard from Obbie lately?”

“No, why?”

“She’s doing some sort of award gallery thing. Sounded neat. I’ll text you the link.”

“D’accord.” He could see her when he closed his eyes. Two loose braids to her shoulders, their father’s sharp jaw. Practiced hands flipping socks around each other, deft from gloving pucks. She had always poked and prodded and teased him more than the other two—a function of their close years—but had never once flaked when he reached out. He wasn’t sure how to thank her for that. He cleared his throat and heard it echo back to him. “You’ll call me, right? If you need things.”

“What would I need?”

“Just. I don’t know. Things.”

Her laugh was light, fond. “Yes, LoLo, I’ll call if I need things. Check your messages for the link.”

“I will.” He started to lower the phone, then brought it back to his ear. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“Be safe.”

“I will.”

“See you at Christmas.” His lips felt shaky. “Or—whenever. If you’re around, or anything.”

“Goodbye, Logan,” she said slowly, though he could hear her smiling. “I’ll see you in two weeks. Take care. Give your boys my love.”

“I will.”

It was another five-count before either of them hung up.