#back injury is the career killer for bedside nurses

[andhumanslovedstories]

Also, while I’m complaining about my shift, I fucked up my back really bad while doing wound care. See the thing about the human body is that it’s super not ergonomic to lift and move. And we were doing wound care on this gnarly, enormous deep gash that was on the underside of a very large belly. So I have to hoist that belly up so that we can access the wound to do extensive and very painful work. And the thing about fat is that the consistency of it makes it so hard to keep a stable grip on, so holding this belly up and out of the way is like deadlifting one hundred pounds of jello that can feel pain.

I realized pretty quick also that I had not lifted the bed high enough to safely or comfortably do this work, but truly what the fuck am I supposed to do at this point. I cannot let go, the other nurse in the room is literally wrist deep inside a body cavity, packing in gauze, and every delay means more time the patient is in absolute agony. By the end, I was absolutely drenched, with one eye squeezed shut because all the sweat I couldn’t wipe away had run directly into my eyeball, arms quivering, legs shaking, back fucking screeching at me. But by GOD I did my job, half of which was the aforementioned belly lifting and the other half making small talk to distract the patient from the pain of having their wound bed fondled. We talked about crochet. It was a lovely conversation. You could almost not tell that both participants were holding on by their fuckin fingertips.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (6/17)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: As always, feedback is very much appreciated.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Every morning even before he opens his eyes completely, Levi would reach for his phone on the side table.

His first connection to reality was always the time written out on the lock screen of the phone and the blue light on his screen as he checked all his notifications. He never remembered when exactly he had gotten into the habit of doing just that. Regardless, the clean interface and the clusters of notifications on real life topics and class announcements were effective ways to forget whatever dreams he may have had the night before and focus on real life obligations and responsibilities.

That morning was a little different. As he motioned his right hand that familiar distance from bed to side table, he found a barricade in the form of a metal bar and as he maneuvered his hand beyond it, all he felt was air and a wall. Levi opened his eyes to his left to see the sky just outside, a familiar mix of purple and pink.

That was at least enough for him to conclude that it was probably around six in the morning. With no quick fixes of gratification, Levi found himself taking stock of whatever was at hand. He allowed himself a long look at the sky, long enough for the blue to start peeking through and the light be enough for the room to illuminate enough for Levi to be able to make sense of his surroundings without the help of artificial light.

Levi slowly sat up. It was the white covers and the white ceilings that clued him to it first. The IV attached to his arm came second. Then Levi was suddenly aware of the weight on his left knee, the dull pain and the bindings.

He sighed and threw himself back down on the bed, wincing as the immobilized leg protested that rough movement. His mind was racing. Memories were starting flooding back to him much faster than he could connect the dots to what was in front of him at that moment. The white ceiling kept all the stimuli at a more manageable level at least.

If everything had gone according to Levi’s expectations, that Saturday morning, Levi should have been on the train to meet Hange. His anticipation at meeting Hange had him planning every intricate detail. As he looked up at the clear slate above him, he imagined the quick jog to the station that should have been reality if he hadn't been so careless the night before.

Everything after crashing on to the ground was a blur. It was as if the searing pain then the numbness on his left knee had interfered with his ability to process the world around him.

He remembered Hange talking to him, but not what she was saying. Soon after, there was a stretcher then sirens.

His grasp of the world around him only got worse as he arrived in the hospital and they hooked him up to an IV. The rest of it was blank save for a few loud voices, the moving of the gurney from one room to another. his coach's voice, Erwin's voice and Hange's voice.

As Levi contemplated his situation that morning, he couldn't help but ruefully note as well that at his current state, he probably wouldn't be able to even manage the lighter tests Hange had wanted him to do that day.

I’ll only find out more if I get out of here.

Levi pulled the blanket off. How bad was it? Over his knee was a piece of thick cloth or possibly layers of it, held together with velcro on top. As Levi swung his legs to the side of the bed. He could not help but note how unnaturally heavy his casted leg was.

The prospect of placing his bad leg on the floor and the uncertainty of what kind of injury he had Levi scrambling for support and he found himself, hopping awkwardly on his good leg while leaning on the hospital walls as he made his way to the door of the room.

He never really found out how long it took him to make the few meter journey to the door of his hospital room. The frustration at the unfamiliarity of his situation only had him disregarding time. To him, it felt like ages. He had stopped a few times and leaned on the wall, his head spinning from exhaustion, fear or maybe even the medicine they had been pumping him with since last night. On the way to the entrance, he did not notice the door that had silently opened and only realized someone had entered the room when they were right beside him already.

“You shouldn’t be standing...” It was one of the voices from last night. Fortunately, it was the one he felt most comfortable hearing.  

Hange should know everything. “What happened last night?” Levi spared not time asking that question.  

“Let’s get you back in bed first.” Hange seemed like she was in no hurry to tell him. Her movements were slow as she wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided him to a position where he was barely putting any weight on the floor beneath him.

As soon as Hange had made sure he was settled on the bed, her pace suddenly quickened as she turned on the lights of the room, pulled out his phone from the drawer, placed it on his side table, pulled a chair to his bedside and sat on it. “I can’t stay for long actually. I have to go to campus, do some work in the lab. If you need anything important… You’re covered at least by the insurance plans....”

If you need anything important from your dorm, you better tell me now… That was the last sentence Levi had made sense of. Hange turned on the lights and the gravity of Levi’s injuries became clearer. The bruises and the abrasions on his knees and hands were raw and fresh. Some of the worse ones had been bandaged up. He had gotten those same injuries before but having been an athlete for a long time, those were easily brushed away and he had mistaken the aches for stronger and more painful manifestations of exhaustion. He could not tell from then but his back had that same familiar ache, maybe even a little stronger.

“Levi, listen.” Hange put her hand on his, catching his attention. I know you’re probably angry with me… And you probably don’t want to see my face anymore. Just allow me to help you get settled at least and I’ll get off your back and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“Never see you again?” Somehow those words hit harder and rang more painfully in his ears than the rest of his injuries. That was when Levi noticed the small signs: Hange’s back was a little straighter, she kept herself a little more distant and even the way she placed her hand on his was more hesitant. In fact, it was back on her lap as soon as he had processed that action on her end.

It was as if they were back to where they started.

“I’ve gotten these types of injuries before. I’ll just ice them, forget about them and go back to training,” Levi assured. In the end though, it was more for himself than for her. Levi looked to Hange and although he had hoped for a smile and a nod in agreement, he wasn’t surprised when she looked towards his legs, keeping a sullen face.  

Hange shook her head. “ I saw what happened. You hit your knee on the bar pretty hard then you fell at an awkward angle.” For a moment, Hange looked dumbfounded as if she was replaying it all again in her head. “I don’t know how bad it is yet but they had to temporarily set it last night. You were in a lot of pain…”

“Then they’ll prescribe pain killers.” He was probably on some pain relievers already.

“You don’t get it do you? This competition season is out of the question. Hell, your whole career is probably out of the question.” Hange looked away. “And it’s my fault.”

He should have been angrier at Hange.

The way she had explained it, from when he had fallen on the hurdles, her shitty stitching skills which could have delayed the healing process, all the way to encouraging him to change his form, his injury could have been traced back to her. It was still a long shot though. In the end it had been Levi’s decision and he was completely aware of that.

Would he have tried that hard? Would he have taken all those risks if he hadn’t met her? He was sure that it was at least possible to twist logic and delude himself into thinking it was her fault. The Levi of a month ago would have done just that. At that moment, when he put two and two together though, surprisingly, he felt no anger. In fact he felt nothing.

It could have been from shock or confusion. It was as if for a second Levi had forgotten how to feel. Hange left the room as silently as she had entered with a quick reminder to just send it through chat.

Levi wrote it out as coldly and professionally as it was requested and sent it before locking his phone and placing it back on the side table.

For the first time in how many years, he did not even have the energy to look through his phone.

                                 A Tale of Two Slaves

The emptiness he felt festered to something else with each and every test they put him through that morning.

Every nurse and every intern who wheeled him from room to room and did the tests always had something to ask. They asked about training, records and tournaments.

How he had learned to jump so high. How he had polished his form so well. How he maintained consistency with every attempt.

Suddenly they were theorizing the injury.

You probably hit your leg hard on the bar while it was extended... Landing awkwardly from that height is more than enough to dislocate your knee.

Their tones were kind as if to make light of the situation he was currently in. They had done the complete opposite though and with every test and every conversation, Levi was forced to face his emotions head on, the future that awaited him.

And Hange. What was Hange planning?

He had sprained his ankle before but that was the first time he had experienced such comprehensive testing for one limb. They had explained the tests as they went about it: mobility tests, nerve tests, vascular tests all for his left knee.

As they rambled on and on about him, Levi found himself thinking of the only tests that had mattered to him, the ones Hange would ramble about.

She wanted to test his vertical jump, his horizontal jump, the power in his legs, the strength. He was miserably failing every test the therapists were throwing at him. Putting minimal weight was enough for Levi to realize that his knee was fucked. Just a small movement was enough for his left knee to buckle under him. Levi wondered how less than 24 hours ago, he had managed to use that leg to jump two feet in the air.

By the time Levi had arrived back in the room, his lunch was waiting for him on the table by his bed. He pushed it aside, instead going for his phone.

Multiple Ligament Injuries. That was what one of the nurses had casually mentioned.

Levi found himself digging up all the way until scientific journals. He had wanted to see the words cure, recovery and heal but all he found were outlooks and prognoses.

9-12 months of no physical activity. Pain and stiffness his whole life. There was no direct cure. There were no straightforward answers, only arguments and well thought-out opinions on treatment plans.

The details were in and out of his brain within seconds after he read them. If they differed for every case, there really was no point in memorizing or even trying to set his expectations. He had spent the whole morning in chairs and in bed but somehow, Levi was exhausted. He opened his phone to the different chat groups. Others had asked about him.

He only composed two messages that day as replies to the tens or even hundreds of notifications. One to his parents and one to his coach.

Don’t visit...Was he ashamed? Was he exhausted? Terrified? Confused? Levi could not pinpoint the exact feeling but somehow his body felt heavy and the only thing he wanted to do was roll over and sleep.

He had managed not to cry but for a few minutes he was blinking back tears.

                                     A Tale of Two Slaves                  

ACL, MCL, LCL. A string of letters recognized from the internet.

The doctor had given the meanings of those acronyms as he explained them. Levi was quick to forget them though, there were more important things than that. Like who was explaining it to him and what exactly the injury meant for him. Or for Hange.

The doctor that had taken over his case was Erwin. The last time Levi had seen him, he had been in a civilian wear. The blonde wore a white coat over his polo and dress pants as he stood next to Levi’s bed side, looking more powerful and more authoritative than he did back in the laboratory.

As he talked, Levi felt no need to listen. Erwin after all was only confirming the fears and the doubts that were running through Levi’s brains.

This season is out of the question. Reconsider whatever plans you may have as an athlete.

What about Hange’s research? Levi had wanted to ask. It just did not seem right then, as Erwin continued to explain the prognosis.

“I’ll be honest with you,” Erwin said as if he hadn’t been honest with Levi the past few minutes. “There’s no right way to go about this. Knee injuries are pretty complex and the treatment I’m suggesting now is just my own opinion. It’s probably even a gamble.”

All medical advice is just someone’s professional and educated opinion. Levi was quick to figure that out when he had read the abstracts of articles, discussion evaluations, prognoses and never exact cures for his own injury.

It was at that moment that Erwin mentioned the gamble that Hange had entered the hospital room with Levi’s overnight bag slung over her shoulder. She was looking down and from his angle, her face was unreadable.

Erwin had mentioned surgery and strict physical therapy afterwards. With Levi graduating that year, it meant he was out of the running for collegiate championships anyway.

But if it works out, maybe, just maybe he could go back to jumping. And somehow, Levi realized just the movements he had gotten used to and the sensations they had allowed him to experience, actually made him consider the gamble worth taking even if it was a longshot. Only a small percentage of the population actually regained full control of their knee after a devastating injury like that.

“Shouldn’t he wait a few months before getting the surgery?” Hange suggested. “I’ve read some articles about it before…”

“There’s some damage in his nerves and in his vascular system which needs to be addressed soon if he wants to gain control of his knee. If we divide this into multiple stages, Levi will be back to square one after every surgery. It will only delay the healing process.”

Hange kept quiet. For a moment, everyone in the room was silent.

Erwin spoke up. “Hange’s not wrong. There are more conservative ways to go about treatment. In the end, it’s up to you whether you want to listen to me or request a second opinion. I’ll wait for your answer in the morning.” He turned to Hange. “And Hange, we’re going to have to talk about your plans for your thesis. First thing Monday morning in the lab.”

“What’s your plan?” Levi asked. Since Erwin left the room, Hange had been standing too awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking uncomfortable at the turn of events. How much had she heard?  

“What’s your plan? Erwin always has a good reason for everything but… I’ve seen articles about rushing into this surgery and I’m just unsure about it,” Hange said. “To be honest, no matter what happens, these types of injuries don’t leave people and if you’re going to live with it for the rest of your life, might as well not risk something so unnecessary?”

“Hange, answer me first what’s your plan?” Levi had stopped listening at “but.” He was already dead set on getting the surgery anyway. Somehow he knew, Erwin’s gambles were never baseless.

I’ll get off your back and you’ll never have to see me again. Those words only echoed again in his head as he focused on the panicked look Hange was giving him at that moment.

“My plan on what?”  Hange asked.

You’ll never have to see me again. Levi had realized even before they had met that afternoon that her thesis was the only thing that had kept them talking and contacting each other. With that gone, what next?

Levi found himself scrambling for excuses, for a reason to see her. “Your thesis.” You heard Erwin, I’m gone for the next nine months or probably even the next few years. Are you going back to Elijah? Are you gonna find some other athlete to study?” It was unintentional but Levi heard the venom in his own voice.

Hange gave Levi a wry smile. “I haven’t decided yet. But I’m planning on talking to my parents and ----”

“I’m not asking what your parents plans are. I’m asking about your plans.” Levi interrupted.

“They’re paying for my tuition, for my home. I at least wanna get their approval for something as heavy as what will be my graduation. Besides, It’s not just about my parents, I have to consider Erwin…”

Levi slammed his fists on the bed in frustration. The Hange in front of him was avoiding his gaze, as if looking to find an answer elsewhere, maybe on the white walls or the tiled floors. That was not the Hange he knew. Hange knew how to make decisions on a fly, hell, Hange was a squad leader. She was the commander of an army. Suddenly for the first time, it felt like he was talking to a completely different person. Levi felt duped.

“Your plans Hange,” Levi emphasized. “What kind of crapsack household did you grow up in that you can’t make decisions for yourself. Your research is your decision. Relying on someone else to make decisions? That's not the Hange I know.”

Hange shook her head looking dumbfounded. “Why are you talking about me like you’ve met me before? What do you know about me? Or my home? We’ve only been talking for a month.” Hange paused for a while, avoiding his gaze. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not angry. I’m  just curious. I mean, as far as I remember we only started talking a few weeks ago back in the track. I’m flattered really because I’ve been following you for a long while but, why are you so invested in my plans?”

Why are you so invested in her?  Levi looked away as he felt the blood rushing into his face. “It’s just that… I guess...This is just not the Hange I expected you to be.” He managed to say.

In the end, a voice still lingered inside him, a voice saying that there was some truth to his silent expectations for the type of person Hange should have been.

                                  A Tale of Two Slaves  

A few days later, on a Tuesday morning, Levi did have the surgery.

On the days leading up to it, he was alone. Hange had told him then, that she would be spending Sunday with her family, Monday in the lab.

There was a nagging feeling inside him that Hange was avoiding him. It could have been paranoia. There wasn’t much to think about after all. His unchanging view the next few days leading up to the surgery were the white ceilings and the white walls of his room, decorated with a few visits from a nurse and the hospital meals which at least had some variety in appearance but little variety in taste.

He had finished most of his schoolwork by Monday afternoon and even finished the readings for the three classes he was taking that semester. Soon, there was nothing much to do but look through his phone.

By Monday night, he was told by the nurse that he wouldn’t be served any dinner in preparation for the surgery.

By Tuesday afternoon, Levi was making sense again of the white walls and the white ceilings, the sky through the window that was all too bright, and the smell of flowers.

The smell of flowers.

“You know Levi, I was thinking of something…”

Levi looked towards his bedside to see Hange sitting there and behind her, flowers sitting on a vase, a simple arrangement.  

“We’re taught that humans are at the top of the ecological hierarchy and at the top of the food chain. We’re apparently the greatest creations. But, we’re so easy to maim or injure for life” Hange said, as if she hadn’t been avoiding him the past few days. “Flowers can grow from stem cuttings. They can patch themselves up even after we pull out the flowers or some of the leaves. But you sprain your ankle once and it’s never the same ankle again.”

“Why are you here?” Levi asked, as soon as he finally had control of his voice. He didn’t want to play along.

“For a visit.” Hange said matter of factly.

“You said I wouldn’t have to see you again.” Levi challenged. Hange trying to lighten the mood with random conversation had left a bad taste in his mouth. He regretted his words though soon after he saw the slight wince she made.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve been thinking about my thesis. And I talked to my parents about it…”

“I told you before, I want your decision, not theirs.”

“Yes, if you had let me finish last Sunday instead of being angry, I would have told you. I’m making the final call. I just want to consult,” Hange said, looking exasperated. “ I have funding, tuition, time and logistics to consider and I’m back to square one. I don’t live on an island, Levi. Just because you can live in one, doesn’t mean everyone can.”

She was right. Somehow, the way she had said it, the way she had explained herself was convincing enough for Levi to realize that the Hange he knew was still inside her.  Levi felt his stomach drop in embarrassment at his immature outburst rooted in the frustration he had felt. He wanted to look away from Hange as she narrowed her eyes at him, looking at him expectedly.

What’s your plan? Levi had hidden how he felt behind a veil of a casual conversation, behind a fundamentally neutral question. At that point, he had given up. For three days, just bringing up such a vague question was not giving him the answers he wanted.

"Then what’s going to happen to us?” Levi asked. “I mean, we won’t have much reason to see each other after this.”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve been wanting to do this type of thesis for a while so it’s gonna be hard to change.” Hange admitted.

That confirmation was all he needed. Am I being selfish? Levi had to make the conscious effort to stop himself. In a perfect world, he would have wanted her to adjust, to find a way to work with his current limitations. He had held on to a hope that somehow she would suggest something to keep them talking, keep them seeing each other.

Suddenly, the rest of the things he would have wanted to open up about were all taboo.

If Hange were to change her topic for him, if she were to do anything just because he suggested it, he was sure he wouldn’t be satisfied with it. . At the same time, just imagining that phantom athlete doing the jumps for her, recalling how Hange had been left speechless watching Elijah’s jump, how she had stood up and clapped her hands slowly then quickly had Levi’s heart racing and his head spinning. His human inhibitions, as weak as they were at that moment, were the only thing stopping himself from begging her to stay, hell, from demanding that she considers him when making her decision.

Levi turned his eyes towards the white ceiling above him, a futile effort to clear his mind. As his inhibitions and desires waged a war in his head, he couldn’t even grasp for a reply, an emotion to articulate.

Hange took the initiative. “Levi, I want to ask you something…” She started. “Do you still want to see my face? After everything that happened?”

Levi gave a small nod, the only movement he could manage without letting out a wave of emotion.

“Then I’ll consider that when I make my decision.” At least she noticed it.

                                   A Tale of Two Slaves  

It was Erwin who had informed him of Hange’s decision.

Since Hange had visited that Tuesday, she never did come back. Levi had convinced himself at least to accept that that Tuesday afternoon would be the last time he saw her.

Wednesday afternoon, Erwin visited, informing Levi that he would be released from the hospital that Friday. Levi found himself almost ecstatic at the news. The white room was depressing. He never did get comfortable or familiar with the hard mattress beneath him and the barriers of the hospital bed.

“Also, Hange sends her apologies. She’s been busy working on a new proposal this week,” Erwin added.

“A new proposal?”

“A thesis proposal,” Erwin clarified. “She had to do everything from scratch, so she’s been spending a lot of time in the library.”

“She changed her topic?” It was a question of confirmation for himself.  Levi noted then that most students could only access online journals for free using campus wifi. An oddly comforting fact which at least justified their lack of interaction the past two days and consequently, quelled his doubts..  

Erwin nodded. “She told me a few days ago.”

“Why?” Levi felt guilty for the wave of relief that washed through him.

“Why what?”

“Why did she change it?” For a second he was happy. As quickly as it came, that bout of joy morphed into guilt.

“I'm her thesis mentor, not the one who makes the final decision.”

By Friday, Levi was at least independent enough to do the packing he had been raring to do himself since that weekend.

To be able to maneuver quickly and efficiently on crutches though, Levi had spent a good chunk of Thursday learning how to maneuver his way around with the crutches he was prescribed. By that day at least, as he cleaned out the dresser and packed his stuff, he had enough skill to balance on one crutch while emptying the dresser or dragging one of the chairs to his bedside without putting any weight on his bum knee.

Late Friday afternoon, Hange was the one who picked him up. It was no surprise, she offered to take him back to campus only that morning.

They exchanged pleasantries and after that, Hange did all the talking. Somehow she understood that after having spent a good morning cleaning out the room, Levi was exhausted. He probably could have fallen asleep on the taxi ride on the way back to the dorm if Hange hadn’t been so loud and the taxi hadn’t been so cramped.  

“You sure you don’t need someone to take you up?” Hange had taken his bag from the backseat and slung it over her shoulder as they arrived at the entrance of their dormitory.

“It’s fine.” Levi knew she meant well but her initiative to take the bag before he could even attempt to carry it was insulting.

Despite her insistence, Levi forcefully took the bag with his right hand, keeping his left knee heavily planted on the ground. He swayed a bit as he balanced his weight with his overnight bag slung on one shoulder.

“Just tell me when you give up.”

Levi looked away as he said that. He didn’t know what face she was making as she said that but he opted not to look to save himself whatever exasperation or stress it would have caused him. Instead, he focused on  trying --yet failing -- to gain as much distance as he could as he hobbled into the dormitory building.

He was disappointed to see that Hange did not follow.

I can always thank her later. Another excuse to text her at least. He had other things he wanted to ask her like what had made her decide to change her thesis. More importantly, what did that mean for him?

At that point in time though, he had more important things to think about like the fact that his room was on the second floor.

It was late afternoon on a Friday meaning most students were out, while others were cooped up in their rooms already and the hallways were empty. He probably wouldn’t have asked for help anyway. In fact, he was relieved to see nobody had seen him stare at the stairs for a good few minutes.

Although he had spent most of yesterday learning to move with crutches, nothing had prepared him for stairs.

He hobbled back towards the lobby where there were at least a few places to sit. If he were going to be thinking of a next plan of action which would be less embarrassing than asking for help, he concluded it would be better if he didn’t expend energy balancing on crutches.

As it turned out, Hange hadn’t left. Levi found her leaning by the entrance of the dorm with a knowing smile on her face. An annoying and mocking smile. An “I told you so,” in the form of a subtle gesture.

Levi was annoyed for a split second, a little peeved. The initial feelings were quickly washed away though by the wave of relief that followed.

He was just glad to see her there.  

[lilith-lovett]

Found Families - Home is Where the Hart is - Chapter Fifteen

I have returned! I’m so sorry this has taken me so long to update but I hope to continue with more regular updates though I am currently in my final year of high school and going through the process of applying to university which is honestly terrifying but I love writing this series and I want to see it through.This is a final chapter of the first act and I was planning on taking a break to wrote on some other things before starting act two but I think I have had a long enough break, with how long it took me to write this chapter, so I hope for the next chapter to be written and posted by the end of the October Holidays. I want to thank all of you who have stuck with this series and have continued to send me requests and ask questions about it, I love talking to you all and I hope you continue to enjoy it. Thank you!

Masterlist

Summary: Patton has an important question for Logan.

Word Count: 6779 (this is a monster chapter but I don’t even care :) )

Warnings:Child abuse, hospitals, disordered eating, description of injuries, past child abuse, implied child abuse, police mention, self-deprecation, kidnapping mention, implied depression, nightmare mention, panic attack, non-verbal. (If I have missed anything please let me know)

Logan had to stay in the hospital for three days following the incident which was rather boring, since Patton had to leave after the first night because of work and then he was left alone. Doctor Hastings, accompanied by a nurse came in every hour or so to monitor his vitals, administer more pain-killers and bring himself something to eat which he promptly ate half of before discarding the rest when they left. He had his clothes returned to him and with them the fidget cube Virgil had gifted him, which he had hidden away in the pocket of his trousers and was glad to have it given back to him. It acted as a pleasant distraction until he drifted off to sleep again.

Logan continued on like this. He would sleep, eat, participate in brief conversations with doctors and nurses who visited his room and wait for Patton to return. Which he did, a few times over the next couple of days, Logan was stuck in his hospital bed. Patton would come and sit by his bedside for an hour or two and he would talk. He would talk about everything and anything, his job, a funny conversation he had, a cute cat he saw on the street and wanted to pet but he couldn’t because he hadn’t taken his allergy medication. And Logan would listen, far to exhausted to add much to the conversation but Patton seemed to understand and didn’t force him to talk, claiming ‘he could talk enough for the both of them’. When Maggie eventually visited, he discovered she hadn’t quit but had confronted Madame Claire regarding the bruises she had seen on Logan’s wrists and in return Madame Claire had fired her and lied to Logan. She hadn’t left him.

“The Police arrived just after you and Patton left for the hospital, they arrested Madame Claire. They arrested her Logan. She’s gone and she won’t be able to hurt you or anyone else ever again,” Maggie said holding a pile of Police reports and papers in her hands.

“There were others?” Logan asked. Perhaps it was rather naive to assume he was the only one Madame Claire targeted, as the Orphanage was full of potential victims.

“Unfortunately yes, none as severely but the majority of the children had experience some sort of physical abuse by her hand at some point,” Maggie explained. That made sense, it wasn’t uncommon to see bruises on arms and everyone possessed a shared fear of Madame Claire.

“I see,” Logan replied. “What happens now?.

“Well, the Police agreed it would be too difficult to transfer all of you. So, we are working to relinquish the ownership of the Orphanage…to me,” Maggie exclaimed with a wide smile, lighting up her entire face.

“You, you will be the head of the Orphanage?” Logan questioned almost disbelieving her story.

“Yup and I promise you Logan, I won’t let anything like this ever happen to you or anyone else ever again,” Maggie said resting a hand on Logan’s thigh, a top the thin hospital blanket keeping him warm.

“I thought…I thought you left me,” Logan admitted internally cursing himself when his voice broke and his eyes stung with unshed tears.

“Oh Logan, I will never leave you. Circumstances may change and we may be apart but I promise you I will never leave you,” Maggie assured taking Logan’s hands into her own, squeezing them tightly which Logan returned. Maggie had been a constant in Logan’s life for many years and now he couldn’t imagine living life without her, their debates about books, her stream of advice, her teaching him to play card games and him desperately attempting to figure out a strategy to beat her. “Now, I have a surprise for you,”.

“TADA!” Maggie exclaimed pulling out a book from her bag. His book to be exact, ‘The Murder of Rodger Ackroyd’, which he had already read a total of three times already but every time he looked upon it’s pages he was reminded of his day out with Patton. Scouring the entire book-store, listening to his passion-fuelled rambling about space, building a shy bond of trust between each other. Logan wanted to go back to that day, repeat it over and over again, never returning to his present self. He felt hallow, empty. His relationship with Patton had changed. Cracked by Madame Claire’s attempt to tarnish Logan’s trust in him, in order to have greater control…just like his parents.

It was Logan’s fault too. If he wasn’t so weak, so fuelled by emotions. Perhaps he could have prevented all of this. He had caused Patton and his family so much trouble and pain. Maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t met Patton at all. Patton could have met another child, a child much less difficult and troublesome, a child Patton could love unconditional and without consequences. A child not like Logan. Too aloof, too robotic, simultaneously too much and not enough. Not worthy of love, to be loved. He didn’t deserve it.

Detective Hastings or Simon as he insisted Logan call him, also visited, giving him updates in regards to the case, asking follow-up questions about his experiences or to simply check up on him. Simon was an interesting person, with an interesting career. He shared stories of his cases, most sounding like the plots of his favourites crime and mystery novels, including the time he got kidnapped which sounded more dramatic then it actually was. Doctor Hastings or Dane sometimes joined in on these discussions when he wasn’t busy with other patients, softly giggling behind his hand or rolling his eyes at an over-exaggeration on Simon’s part. It was nice. It added some variety to what would have otherwise been an awfully boring experience but he had to go back.

On the third and final day of Logan’s hospital stay, before Maggie came to collect him, Dane visited him a last time inform him of the treatment plan he would be following which consisted of plenty rest and relaxation and basic pain-killers when necessary. He was given two wrists braces to wear for the first week - which bothered him as it made writing increasingly difficult - and his ankle fracture wasn’t severe enough to require any mobility aids and it would heal over time if he remained off of it for a short while. As for the rest of his injuries, none were as serious so did not need the same amount of care as only rest and time would allow them to repair themselves. The same information was again repeated to Maggie for her knowledge, when she arrived the retrieve him from the hospital a short while later.

“Don’t worry Doctor, this one won’t be allowed out of bed. Certainly not with me around,” Maggie said gaining a collective chuckles from both doctor and nurses as Logan rolled his eyes though he did not doubt her claim, speaking from personal experience.

“I don’t doubt it for a second Miss Blair,” Dane replied with a warm grin “Well I guess this is goodbye Logan, the team and I are sure going to miss having you around. But that does not mean you go jumping out any more windows young man,”.

“Of course, I shall not act so recklessly again,” Logan said as he collected together his minimal belongings, missing completely the shared look of sadness and concern of the medical team.

Logan settled himself into the wheelchair - as he had yet to walk distances longer than that of the length of his hospital room - and allowed himself to be wheeled out of the room, where he had spent the past three days, by a nurse as he waved to Dane and the team of nurses and Maggie walked by his side, talking animatedly about the plan for the following days but Logan was only part-way listening. He glanced around his surroundings, doctors and nurses pacing the corridors, long-terms patients talking between each other, the general hustle and bustle of the hospital filled his senses. Logan noticed Maggie had gone quiet, ceasing in her enthusiastic explanation, instead picking at the skin surrounding her nail - which were painted a bright red - a clear sign of anxiety but when Maggie caught his curious gaze she merely smile. Not her usual brilliant, bright smile, not quite reaching her eyes but immediately looked away again, continuing in her discussion with one of the nurses.

The drive back to the Orphanage was quiet, neither speaking, the silence filled with soft music emitted from the radio with Maggie’s soft humming the background and in that moment, Logan felt content, all of his previous anxieties vanishing as he used the pleasant tune to ground himself. He closed his eyes, allowing his fingertips to wander, caressing the smooth cover of his book. He had no idea what to expect from returning to the Orphanage, the place where he had been tormented for so long. Would the other children finally leave him alone? Treat him with the kindness he had been told he was starved of? Or even despite Madame Claire’s arrest and permanent removal from their lives will he still be subjected to their daily taunts? He once again banished those thoughts as they continued their drive back to the Orphanage and in no time at all they had returned. 

Maggie assisted Logan out of the car, hands gentle around his shoulders and pressed against the small of his back, careful not aggravate his slowly healing bruises. He allowed her to help him despite his cheeks burning with embarrassment, knowing he would not get far without it, she carried the majority of his weight, guiding him through the courtyard and into the foyer. Behind the front desk was not Mrs Davis but another matron Logan couldn’t recall the name of, Maggie had informed him that all of the matrons had been questioned and Mrs Davis had been one of the few who had been charged along with Madame Claire for her involvement. He passed each of his fellow orphans, gone were their expressions of disgust and scorn, replaced with…sympathy…gratitude. Logan wasn’t sure, perhaps it was the shared trauma or thanks for taking the brunt of the abuse so they did not have to endure it. It was understandable.

The overwhelming exhaustion Dr Hastings had warned him of, was beginning to set in with the minimal movement from the car to the ground floor, already dreading the stairs he would inevitably to climb in order to reach his bed which he had been ordered to remain for the first few days of his recovery. Maggie must have been able to sense Logan’s mounting fatigue as she paused just before the staircase, manoeuvred herself around Logan and proceeded to lift and carry him up the stairs with frightening ease despite the squirms of protest.

“Don’t you even dare argue with me Logan,” Maggie said in a mock series tone as she tightened her grip on Logan slowing moving up the stairs towards his room.

Logan rolled his eyes but allowed Maggie to continue, knowing he wouldn’t have made it far on his own and he was begrudgingly grateful for her unprompted assistance. One flight, two flights, three flights of stairs before they reached the boys dormitory where Logan’s bed and belongings remained untouched, just as he had left them. Maggie set him down on the edge of his bed, arranged the sheets and pillows for him as he lay down, preparing to open his book before Maggie plucked it from his fingers, instead setting it on his bedside table.

“No reading tonight for you mister, I can tell you are exhausted and don’t even try to deny it, you need to rest Logan,” Maggie said sitting on the edge of Logan’s bed adjusting the covers, bringing them up to rest beneath Logan’s chin.

“I am aware and I shall, for as long as necessary,” Logan replied unconsciously pulling with covers tighter around himself for warmth, he had been feeling rather cold these days.

“Good, I think after a few days of rest you will be as good as new,” Maggie said brushing a stray lock of hair out of Logan’s face. “Patton will also be excited to see you again,”.

Patton. Yes. Patton had visited him the day before his discharge to inform him when he would next be visiting him at the orphanage, would he be returning. Patton had thought it best to allow Logan a few days to recover before and resettle before scheduling another session. At the time, Logan had agreed, the idea was sensible enough. Patton had already spent days by his bedside throughout his short stay in the hospital, he wouldn’t want to subject Patton to any more. But why did the thought of returning to the routine of his and Patton sessions unsettle him so?

“Okay, I will let you sleep, if you need anything just call for me,” Maggie said squeezing Logan’s hand once before leaving him alone with a dangerous swirl of thoughts in his head.

Patton had done so much for him. Logan had brought him into this…mess. His mess. Patton didn’t deserve anything of this. Sweet, kind, considerate Patton who deserved a child who wasn’t broken like Logan was, unable of proper affection or care, unworthy of love. This would end in heartbreak. Madame Claire’s words flooded his mind, she may have been gone but her presence was everywhere, still torturing him.

Why would Patton want someone like you?

You deserve to be alone.

You have already made things difficult for him.

You should leave before you ruin everything.

Because that is what you do, you ruin things.

You are bad, bad, bad.

Bad.

Bad.

Bad.

Logan did not sleep.

This pattern of thinking continued for several days, images of the impending doom plaguing Logan’s dreams and nightmares but they would always end the same. He would be alone. Trapped. Crying, screaming, calling out for someone to come and save him but nobody came. With each passing day, the day of his and Patton’s session quickly approaching and the feeling of dread sunk further into his abdomen, the incessant churning of his stomach hadn’t ceased since he returned to the orphanage and Madame Claire’s overwhelming presence hadn’t left his bedside. Constantly providing a stream of negativity into his brain, her voice reverberating against his skull whenever he rested his thoughts for a mere moments, infiltrating and staining them black with self-doubt and hatred.      

It was three in the morning, along after Logan would have fallen asleep, in order to maintain a healthy sleep schedule but he could not sleep. Patton would be arriving in a matter of hours. What would he say? Logan had been in such a state for the past few times he visited. What if everything which happened at the hospital was a façade? What if he sided with Madame Claire and approved of her treatment of him? No. Patton would never do such a thing…but Logan had caused so much trouble, not only for Patton but his entire family. Consistently tearing Patton away from his job, his responsibilities, his children, to feed his own desires. What if Patton changed his mind about continuing to meet with him? Deciding after all, he was too difficult, too problematic, too broken to truly be cared for. Undeserving of love. Logan would spends the rest of his teen years trapped within these four walls. Alone. Trapped until he was ultimately tossed out onto the streets to fend for himself. Alone. He would always be…alone.

Logan’s eyes stung with tears he refused to shed as he turned over onto his side, ignoring the unbearable sting with the unwelcome movement, pressing his face deeper into his pillow in attempt to smother the circling thoughts so too allowing him a mere hour of dreamless sleep. But he would not be so fortunate.

Logan did not sleep that night.

 Patton could not sleep. The excitement at the prospect of finally seeing Logan again - after nearly a week - brought about a wave of delightful sensations to incredible to ignore or dampen with attempting to sleep, though the result was not so pleasant, but nothing an extra special breakfast wouldn’t fix. He sat at the breakfast table, bouncing his thigh as he took a sip of apple juice and a large bite of his blueberry pancakes, awaiting for the arrival of his children. He hadn’t seen Logan since his stay in the hospital and he had been using Logan’s recovery time to formulate his plan. Today was the day, he finally going to officially adopt Logan. Well ask him but he was attempting to remain optimistic.

Patton had spent the last few days finalising all of the proper documents, in preparation for the big day when he would hopefully be bringing Logan home. Logan would be his son, he could hardly believe it, though he did have to agree to it first which is where Patton’s fantasy ended and reality set in. What if he didn’t agree? Patton could always continue to meet with him until a more suitable time but he did know how much more waiting he could handle with everything that had happened, now was the opportune moment to ask. He ate quickly, cleaning even quicker before setting the table in preparation for Roman and Dee’s scheduled arrival at 8:32 on the dot, followed rather begrudgingly by Virgil who would presumably be awoken by Roman’s early morning singing.

“Good morning, Padre!” Roman exclaimed as he bound down the staircase, already dressed in his all white outfit and red slash draped across his chest, Dee clinging onto to his neck still rubbing sleep out of his eyes and releasing a large yawn.

“Morning Kiddos, it is my extra special Pattoncakes on the menu for today,” Patton said watching as both boys eyes lit up as they rushed to the table and tucked into their breakfast, while Patton waited for Virgil to emerge. Which did not take long.

“Why are you all so loud” Virgil grumbled still dressed in his Nightmare before Christmas themed pyjamas - his favourite movie - as he brushed his unruly bed-head out of his eyes.

“Because Surly-Temple, it is the beginning of a new day, full of excitement and new possibilities. Some of us actually enjoy life unlike you,” Roman quipped polishing off the remainder of his pancakes.

“Now, now, boys. This is no time for bickering, I have some exciting news for you all,” Patton announced to his children, drawing their attention immediately. “I plan to ask Logan to become apart of our family,”.

The kitchen fell silent. Patton told his children little of the incident despite their incessant begging for the full story. They something bad happened and Logan ended up in the hospital, his pain and tears were near impossible to hide particularly from Virgil who had asked on several occasions to accompany him to one of his visits to the hospital. A very non-Virgil request but he was forced to refuse, fearing for Virgil’s fragile mental state, surrounded by such familiar memories of his past mirrored in Logan’s experiences. Patton had spoken very little about Logan to his children, despite in answer to their questions regarding his well-being, allowing both them and himself time to process and to make his final decision.

“Do you think he will say yes?” Roman asked a hint of hesitation present in his voice.

“I don’t know kiddo, he has been through a lot recently,” Patton wondered aloud. What if he was moving to fast? Jumping in too quickly? Without care for Logan thoughts and feelings on the matter.

Patton spiralling thoughts were immediately interrupted by a weight on his side, he shook himself out of his negative head space to see Virgil pressed into his side, forehead rested against his chest, humming vibrating throughout his ribcage, reminding his to breathe. In and out. In and out. Until the uncomfortable weight lifted, replaced by the sensation of Virgil’s warmth enveloping him.

“It will be okay, dad,” Virgil murmured hiding his flushed complexion in Patton’s chest to which he nearly squealed in response of, throwing his arms around his dark strange son squeezing him tightly.

“Aw Virge, you are so sweet. Of course it will be,” Patton exclaimed pressing multiple kisses into Virgil’s bed-head and onto the apples of his cheeks despite his groans in protest.

“Hey, hey, get off!” Virgil said escaping from Patton’s tentacle like grip, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout.

“Hey, where is my dad hug?” Roman asked standing with a mock annoyance which Dee mimicked.

“Aw, I have enough dad hugs for everyone,” Patton said pulling Roman in for a bone-crushing hug, swaying back and forth as Roman giggled, laughter ringing in Patton’s ears. Followed by Dee who nearly knocked Patton off of his feet. “Are you sure, you are still okay with me doing this?”.

“Yes, padre,” Roman said with an exasperated tone, dramatically rolling his eyes.

“I know Princey said this before but go and bring the nerd home,” Virgil said was a small smile, finally tucking into his pancake stack.

“I love you all so much,” Patton exclaimed pressing a kiss on each of his boys cheeks, each receiving a drastically different reaction and now his previously dour mood had instantly been lifted and the prospect of seeing Logan today and posing the million dollar question didn’t seem so terrifying with the support of his wonderful family behind him.

Emile arrived a short while later, close to the time of Patton’s departure, bringing his own words of wisdom and encouragement. Providing hugs which enveloped him in warmth, comforting him in a way only a brother could, they were as a close as brothers. His calming presence provided him another layer of support as he made the final preparations, going over his folders repeatedly, making sure he had all of the correct forms and documents, rehearsing his practised speech until he would recite it perfectly from memory and then just like that it was time to leave for the orphanage.

Where Logan would be waiting for him.

 “Logan, please come out. I need to know you are safe, please,” Maggie pleaded to the locked door of the bathroom which Logan had locked himself inside, in a fit of panic and was refusing to come out despite her begging.

Logan wasn’t as okay as he seemed. Maggie knew that but hoped the highly anticipated return of Patton would bring him out of his slump and brighten his spirits though it seemed to do the opposite. Logan had been confined to his room for the past few days while he recovered and whenever she could, she brought him new reading materials, textbooks at his request and even sat with him for hours on end just talking about whatever came to mind. He seemed okay then but this morning when Maggie entered Logan’s room it was clear he hadn’t been sleeping. He looked exhausted. His face was pale apart from the deep purple bruises staining her under-eyes, all life had drained from his expression but as she voiced her concerns he brushed her off claiming he was fine and not to worry and Maggie had been stupid enough to believe him.

Maggie helped him out of bed, his injuries were healing well and he could walk short distances almost unaided now but the lack of proper rest had clearly taken its toll. She gave him space to change before leading him to the communal bathroom, leaving him to ready himself while she worked. That was a mistake. When she returned Logan had locked himself in the bathroom, in a blind panic as a method of protection, she could hear his choked breaths from through the door.

“Please, let me help you, Logan,” Maggie begged her heart clenching as the pitiful half-sobs reached her ears. Logan was trapped in there, terrified, unable to breathe, pressing his trembling figure to the door in an effort to keep everyone who seek to hurt him out and himself safe.

“No, you can’t, no one can” Logan cried though it came out laboured and uneven, spoken throughout short intakes of oxygen into his struggling lungs.

“Let’s just talk okay, you can do that for me, can you?” Maggie said pressing a hand on the door to steady herself. “I’ll talk if you can’t right now and I want you to listen and breathe for me,”.

“Logan you are a incredible, intelligent, selfless boy who did not in anyway deserve what happened to you. You deserve so much more than I or any parent or guardian could ever give you because you are worth so much Logan. I know you don’t see it and I know you are trapped in a really dark place right now but I promise you, you will someday seen your own worth and someone will love you heart and soul and never hurt you again. You just need to open your heart up to let it in. It will be difficult and there will be dark times but you need to fight, you need to fight against all of those negative thoughts in your head and break free because then you will heal,” Maggie said fighting to keep the tears at bay for Logan’s sake but she lost the battle and a few fell from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “You are not unlovable, you are worthy of all of the love in the world,”.

Once Maggie had said her piece, she sat back on her knees and waited, the corridor fell silent and for a moment she believed Logan would not come out and prepared to speak again until the lock clicked and a red eyed Logan revealed himself from behind the door, joining her in the position on the floor though unable still to meet her eyes but it was enough.

“Thank you Logan,” Maggie whispered loud enough for Logan to hear closing the distance between them but keeping her hands to herself, knowing Logan’s feelings about physical touch especially as highly stressful experience or emotional outburst like today. He had described it as boiling water scalding his skin right down to his bones and she did not wish to contribute any more to his discomfort. “ Do you know what triggered it?”.

Logan flinched, shaking his head rapidly before drawing his hand to his lips, then letting them fall and rest on his throat, pressing a little to hard on the skin there. Ah, he couldn’t speak. It wasn’t unheard of for Logan to lose his ability to speak after an outburst, it was one of his most hated symptoms though it was rare, occurring more frequently during his first few months at the Orphanage as a ten year old who had been thrown into a new environment. It appeared Logan was going through a similar experience now.

“That is okay,” Maggie repeated until Logan’s shaking settled and his taut muscles began to relax somewhat but his voice still hadn’t return and may not for a little while. She choose her next words carefully. “Patton should be arriving soon, you don’t have to see him if you don’t want to, I can ask him to reschedule a better day,”.

Logan shook his head violently, brow furrowed and the corner of his lips turned downwards. Maggie smiled, maybe it would take seeing Patton again to light of mood and return the beautiful sparkle to his eyes. It was then the little bell sounded indicating someone’s arrival - Patton’s most likely - and the fear returned to Logan’s expression.

“Everything will be alright, I promise. Why don’t you finish getting ready and wait in the meeting room, I have some things I need to discuss with Patton first, okay?” Maggie said rising to her feet, followed by Logan who nodded, turning to return to the bathroom as Maggie sighed and ventured down the the foyer where Patton was waiting.

“Hello, Patton,” Maggie exclaimed as Patton startled but smiled as soon as he saw her despite still fidgeting with the baby blue folder he clutched between his fingers.

“Hello, Maggie, golly it seems so long since I last saw you kiddo,” Patton said not expanding any further, both knowing what meeting they were referring to.

“Yes it has been, now you told me some rather exciting news over the phone, you are really doing this?” Maggie asked a little hesitant, she had always been protective over Logan but recent events it had increased drastically.

“I am or at least I want to, yes, I want to adopt Logan,” Patton announced with a grin, glancing down at the folder in his hands. “ I have wanted to ever since I met him but after everything that happened and seeing him in the hospital really put everything into perspective and it is the right time,”.

Maggie couldn’t help but smile, immediately pulling Patton in for a hug despite being considerable smaller than him, it felt necessary but as he pulled away she recalled Logan and the incident this morning.

“That is wonderful but I do need to inform you that an incident occurred this morning before you arrived and Logan became extremely distressed which triggered a panic attack,” Maggie explained watching as Patton winced and tried to process the information. “I managed to calm him down and he did agree to meet with you but I need to warn you Logan has become non-verbal and may remain this way for a while yet,”.

“Oh…um...d-do you think I should wait, with asking him and everything?” Patton asked hanging his head, attempting to hide the visible tremble in his voice and hands.

“I think that is up to you to decide but I think you are a wonderful father and Logan will be very happy with you, whatever your decision may be,” Maggie said with a comforting smile as she took the folder from Patton. “Now don’t keep him waiting,”.

Patton beamed at Maggie and practically sprinted down the corridor towards the meeting room as Maggie giggled, glancing down at the folder in her hands and he knew Logan would be okay.    

 Logan paced the length the of the room repeatedly, tapping out a rhythmic pattern out of his thighs as he walked, soundlessly grumbled beneath his breath. His voice hadn’t returned despite having had composed himself since his embarrassing outburst this morning and it was only a short while until Patton’s scheduled arrival. How to Patton interpret his lack of speech? Would he berate him? Would he simply turn away and walk out never to return again? No. Logan refused to believe the lies his brain fabricated, Patton was a good person. Selfless and consistently kind to Logan even when he was undeserving of such kindness and had support Logan through his recent…hardships. This meeting would be no different than any of their previous sessions or he hoped it would be.

Logan heart rate was still raised as he continued to tap and pace and pace and tap, until the pain in his ankle became almost unbearable and he was forced to rest to prevent further damage to the slow healing injury. He hadn’t brought his book, having left it beneath his pillow for safe-keeping and blindly picked one from the surrounding shelves, in order to keep his hands busy while he waited. Tracing his fingertips along the worn cover and broken spine, focusing on his slow breathing in an effort to ignore the pain but keeping his gaze firmly fixated on the door. Patton arrived a short while later dressed in his usual but uniquely Patton outfit with a blinding grin stretched across his face and Logan almost leapt to his feet or would have if not for his injuries, feeling a similar smile form on his own lips.

“Hiya kiddo,” Patton exclaimed approaching the reading nook but he did not fall into the beanbag chair as he normally did but knelt down in front of Logan’s armchair, a position typically reserved for their more serious discussions, which unnerved him. “Maggie told me the situation and don’t worry or force yourself to talk but I do have something I want to talk to you about,”.

Logan’s mind was sent racing, jumping in hyper-drive as it often did, in order to come up with all the possible explanations for Patton’s serious demeanour and topic of conversation he wished to broach but the darker side also contributed. What if Patton had decided against conversing with him any further? Decided he wasn’t worth all of the trouble Logan had put him through? Planned to leave him here? Alone.

“I know things recently have been difficult and seeing you in that hospital bed has forced to to think things through and realise some important decisions must be made…” Logan did not hear the rest, his voice materialised in his throat.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I understand if you do not wish to see or visit me any further and I do not fault you for your decision, I am surprised you entertained me for this long and I am eternally grateful for the time you spent conversing with me. Though I am also glad you have finally come to your senses and have decided to chose another child a lot less problematic than I. I sincerely apologise to me behaviour towards you and the pain I have caused both you and you family, you deserve a child who you will be able to love completely and not someone like me who is undeserving of your affection though I am thankful for the pleasure of knowing you Mr Hart,” Logan rambled on, scarcely pausing to take a single breath, spewing all of the thoughts which he had been drowning in since first meeting Patton the day of his twelfth birthday.

Patton’s expression changed from one of curiosity to another of grave concern, his bright blue eyes growing watery as Logan spoke, he reached out to touch him but Logan flinched back unable to feel the slightest of Patton’s gentle touches without breaking down and tipping him over the edge. It took all of the will-power Logan possessed not to beg for forgiveness, to apologise over and over again for the trauma he had put Patton through, to plead for a second chance though he was undeserving of one and to ask for Patton not to leave him alone.

For he couldn’t bare to be alone again.

 Patton’s heart hurt at the sight of Logan’s pitiful ramblings, of apologises he did not need to give, of thanks Patton did not deserve and worse of all the permission to leave him. To abandon the relationship they built in order to choose an easier child but Patton didn’t want another child, he wanted Logan. The child he had witnessed grow, from the apathetic boy he had met during the open day to the brilliant boy who told him incredible facts about space, and love to read and love to share his great wealth of knowledge. Logan believed Patton was going to leave him because he was flawed.

“No Logan, that isn’t what I want at all,” Patton said shaking his head as he watched Logan expression shift, confusion coating his features.

“B-but…I am too c-callous…too robotic…I don’t deserve your attention. There are…s-several other children who are…” Logan stuttered and stumbled over his words, his breaths coming out in short pants, words becoming stuck in his throat.

“I don’t want another child, I want you!” Patton exclaimed fighting back tears. “I want to adopt you Logan,”. His voice softening again. Logan was silent, the look of utter shock on his face was almost unbearable to watch. His mouth opened, forming shapes but no words came out, his voice had been locked away within the throat and chest.

“You are not a robot, you are not cold and you most certainly aren’t unlovable. I love you so much and I want you to become a member of my family,” Patton said completely discarded the speech he had rehearsed for something straight from the…Hart.

A couple minutes had passed a Logan still hadn’t made a sound, he merely stood shell-shocked, as if in disbelief that anyone would ever adopt him. His eyes remained fixated on Patton’s chest, unable to meet his eyes but he was powerless to prevent the tears which fell from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

“Logan, what is wrong?” Patton asked immediately concerned, fearful he had said something to upset Logan or that his tears meant he did not want to go with Patton.

Logan continued to weep silently, drawing his arms up to wrap tightly around his ribs while he rocked himself back and forth, eyes filled with tears. The sight tore at Patton’s fragile heart, he never ever wanted to see Logan cry again, so he made a potentially stupid decision. He reached out, pulling Logan out of his armchair and into his chest, wrapping his arms securely around Logan’s tiny frame. Logan froze in his arms for a moment and Patton feared he may have made a mistake until Logan gripped onto his shirt as if it were his only lifeline and buried his face into Patton shoulder, sobbing openly now as Patton consoled him, rubbing gentle circles into his spine. They remained like that for several minutes until Logan’s cries quietened and he muttered something unintelligible into Patton’s cardigan.

“What was that, kiddo?” Patton asked halting in his movements.

“Yes,” Logan whispered loud enough for Patton to hear. Yes. He had said yes. Logan had said yes. He was finally going to adopt Logan.

“Happy tears then, I guess kiddo,” Patton giggled through in his own tears and only hugged Logan…his son tighter and made a promise to never, ever let him go.

Patton’s famILY would finally be complete.  

Notes: I love Maggie so much, I never expected for her to become such as big part of the story-line or one of my favourite characters to write but it is going to be so sad when she isn’t as prominent in the story during act 2 and 3, she will still be in there but more as a background character and it makes me so said.

Also did any one catch the shadowhunters line I put in there, if you did you are now my new best friend.

Tag list: @poems-art-darkness-n-more @i-do-not-dislike-fudge @alex-cain @darkrainbow333 @amber1594 @falseh0od @lovingcreatorstrawberry @mason-does-a-thing @callboxkat @tacohippy56900 @anxiousangel121 @comicsimpson @harrypotternerdprincess @cobythinks @whatschooldoesntteachyou @fandomkitty8 @coloursintheblur @read-write-inspire-repeat @clinicalawesomeness @deceit-sanders-deserved-better @scared-ghosthunter

If you would liked to be added to the tag list, have a question about the series or it’s characters or you simply want to say hi, please do not hesitate to send me or ask or message. 

[1-2-4sudoku]

Mr. Scarface

“You cost us a lot of money, you know,” Anthony’s mom scolded him angerily. “Maybe you thought this would make us feel bad for you, but you’re still gonna repay every cent we spent on you.”

And a lot of money I bet that was, Anthony thought. He sat in the backseat of the car, between Jack and Bartholomew, the ones responsible for his horrificly burned face.

“Did you not hear your mother, young man?!” snapped Anthony’s dad. “We are NOT HAPPY with you.”

“I know,” his son said. It was obvious. They really thought that he pressed his own face into a barbecue grill as an attention getter. His brothers weren’t laughing, they were crying tears of sympathy. They weren’t holding him there, it just looked like that when they rushed forward to pull him off.

Now Anthony would have to go through life with bars burned into his face. Wonderful.

He’d spent two weeks in the hospital. There, he was mostly observed and given basic pain medicine and antibiotics. His parents refused to pay for a skin graft or other plastic surgery.

There were a few good things, Anthony mused as he lay in his bed that night. For one, most of the burns were third degree. That meant nerves were destroyed. He couldn’t feel most of the damage.

The other good thing was the nurse who let him call her Auntie Irene. She brought him candy, let him swear as much as he wanted, and best of all, she believed him.

She was the only one who asked him for his side of the story. During his many hospital stays throughout the years, she always picked at his family’s dumbass excuses for his injuries. She didn’t believe a  word of their bullshit. It was too bad that no one believed her.

He had known her most of his life. When he was nine years old, at the hospital for a routine check up, he had cried to her about how his brothers killed his bunny rabbit and blamed it on him.

As his mother texted obliviously on her phone, Anthony whispered to the kind old nurse: “Can I tell you a secret?”

She knelt at his height. “Of course, Sweetheart.”

“I wish you were my mommy.”

But she wasn’t. Anthony woke up with tears dampening his bandages. He looked to his bedside table where the ashes of Apollo were kept. The cremation and urn were the only decent birthday present he’d ever gotten. His parents believed he did it, but at least Jack hadn’t been able to convince them it wasn’t an accident.

Jack was twelve when he pulled the car out of the driveway and onto Apollo. He told their parents that Anthony took him out to play without a leash and he got in the way of Jack’s driving practice. Jack wasn’t strictly supposed to be doing that, but the boys’ parents gave zero fucks about that.

Anthony Huang often laughed at the bitter irony of life and his parents’ so called logic. Once he did it in the street, and a passerby looked...scared. 

Anthony listened to himself and realized that he sounded demented. It felt good.

Anthony rose from bed the next day and stood in the mirror to change his bandages. The scars were a deep, deep red. They looked like red prison bars. How accurate.

Back to school he went, behind two sets of bars.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” 

Anthony glanced at the boy who shared his locker. “What the fuck happened to your brain?”

Having your face pressed into a red hot grill changes you. It can change you in many different ways. In Anthony’s case, it unleashed a deadly rage inside of him that had been at least partially contained before. Until his first real fight, he didn’t realize that he could be as dangerous as his brothers.

When Bitchy Bastard swung his fists, Anthony blocked it with ease that  shocked him. He was so surprised that he didn’t expect the next blow.

Being punched in the gut hurts. Anthony knew from experience that being punched six times in the gut while pressed against a locker is much, much worse. Bitchy Bastard found that out soon, and though he got detention for two weeks, Anthony truly felt it was worth it to give someone what they deserved.

He got in a lot of fights and they showed him that it feels good to hurt people. Anthony didn’t think he was like his brothers, though, because he only hurt people who deserved it.

Over the next two months, Anthony continued to change drastically. His outlook on being beaten up changed,

Don’t stand there. Stand up for yourself.

His prayers changed.

“Don’t kill my brothers. Give me the balls to do it myself.”

The way he perceived himself changed as well. Before, he was weak. Now he began to see himself when he looked in the mirror.

Despite being the youngest brother, he was also the tallest. Anthony saw that now. Anthony also saw that the scarring on his face made him look intimidating. 

And he wasn’t even remotely weak. He was actually more muscular and stronger looking that Bartholomew and Jack put together. Maybe that had something to do with all the hits he took.

And weren’t his teachers always saying how smart he was? It became clear to him that he didn’t need to wait for the death of his brothers when he could make it happen.

On a Tuesday evening, Anthony sat thinking. He didn’t want to go to prison, but he wanted his family gone from the planet.

Yes, all of them. In Anthony’s eyes, his parents’ negligence and stupidity were just as abusive as sticking someone’s face in a barbecue grill for kicks. They all needed to die.

Maybe he could forge a murder suicide note. That would be funny. Anthony had to bite his arm until he stopped laughing, then he kept planning. Who would the killer be?

Bartholomew. The brother who’s name he bore between his first and third had always been the worst. They hated each other with a burning passion, literally. 

Behind closed doors, Bartholomew was the family pyromaniac. He liked lighting butterflies wings on fire to watch them burn as they soared. Anthony was the sensitive one who cried at the sight, so of course, Bartholomew did it all the more.

When Anthony was six and and his oldest brother was nine, he lit balls of paper on fire and threw them at him, forcing him to jump in the family’s pool and nearly drown. No one believed his reason why.

Good old Bart, always playing with fire. He had actually been the first one to press his face down on that grill.

Anthony had actually been able to smell his flesh burning. He could feel his eye melting like candy left in the sun for too long. It was agony until the burning demolished his nerve endings, and then, looking in the mirror was the true agony. That was worthy of death.

By eleven at night, the family was sleeping and Anthony’s plan was complete. He’d spent two hours getting the handwriting just right. Bartholomew’s handwriting.

There was rope in the shed and gloves and knives in the kitchen and a letter in Anthony’s hand. Grinning like an even more demented Cheshire cat, Anthony carried out his plan.

He tied a noose and went to Biggest Brother’s room. For this part he needed everybody to stay in bed. So instead of messing with the rope first, Anthony chose suffocation.

“Ready to fucking die?” He smothered Bartholomew with his pillow, then wrapped his hand around the knife and rope, then stabbed Jack with the knife. Blood poured from the wound and Anthony smiled even bigger. He had dreamed of this for years, and it felt every bit as wonderful as he had imagined.

Now he had to hang Bart’s corpse from the ceiling rafters. Easier said than done, but it got done. Now for his parents, Carolina and Miles Huang.

First, Anthony put on Bartholomew’s shoes. Later, this would be important.

Miles went first, and he went easy. His wounds were identical to those of his second son, but Carolina fought. If they all died the same way, it just wouldn’t be realistic. That would be suspicious, and Anthony didn’t plan to get caught. He planned on a long and satisfying career of vengence.

First, Anthony replicated her husband and son’s stab wounds. To make it look like there was a struggle, he slashed her face and arms. He then pulled her down, purposefully knocking over a lamp in the process.

Bartholomew was never methodical in anything he did, it was always chaos. Anthony had to replicate that.

He walked back to Bartholomew’s room in his shoes and tracked blood there purposefully. Then he put the shoes on Bartholomew.

After he was finished, Anthony walked through the house and made sure that all the evidence pointed toward his oldest brother. It did.

He went outside and scaled a tree, just in case a neighbor decided to spy. This was important to Anthony’s story. He planned to tell the police that during his mother’s struggle, she shouted for him to run and call 911, so he had.

Anthony double checked the evidence again when he went back inside, as he waited for the police to arrive. It was perfect.

 Funny. Everyone said that revenge wasn’t so sweet when you got it, but they were so damn wrong. It felt amazing, and Anthony laughed long and hard, because he knew he would never be caught.

[myhahnestopinion]

The Night A BUREAUCRATIC, OPEN-HEARTED NICE GUY Came Home: HOSPITAL MASSACRE (1982)

A hospital is a pretty solid choice of setting for a horror film. There’s a nice irony to a place centered around healing to be the site of a series of grotesque murders. Halloween II used this irony to great effect, to emphasize the inexorable horrors of Michael Myers’ pursuit of Laurie Strode on Halloween Night 1978. Other films such as A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors, Hellbound: Hellraiser II, and, to a lesser extent, Rob Zombie’s remake of Halloween II, also utilize this irony of transforming a hospital’s refuge into a house of horrors.

1982’s Hospital Massacre, also known as X-Ray and Be My Valentine, Or Else…, is not particularly concerned with this irony. It’s far too busy being fascinated by the bureaucracy of visiting a hospital. The film is most notable for staring Barbi Benton, whose career runs the gamut in moral inoffensiveness from Playboy model to Country music star (I’ll let you decide which constitutes the low point on that moral inoffensiveness scale).  Like Laurie Strode just a year prior, Barbi Benton finds herself chased by a masked killer around a hospital, but her pursuer is far more concerned with getting the proper paperwork filed than getting his kill. You really should feel sorry for this killer though, because, well, he’s just such a “nice guy.” Why doesn’t somebody want to date him?

The film’s cold open is one that certainly matches My Bloody Valentine, another clear source of inspiration for the film, in abrupt escalation, but, hey, love just moves fast sometimes. We open on “Susan’s House,” as the film’s inter-title helpfully explains, because we all know where Susan’s house is located and who Susan is, right? Here, a young, shy boy named Harold puts the finishing touches of his hand-made Valentine, before leaving it on the doorstep. Aww, we’ve all been there, right?

Harold watches from the window as Susan takes the Valentine back to her living room, where she and her friend David laugh at it and crumple it up. Susan abruptly ends her laughing to announce, “I’m going to go eat some cake now.” It’s a sudden decision that gets her out of the room long enough for Harold to break in, and kill David. Aww, we’ve all been there, right? Right? Hello?

Susan returns to find David’s dead body on the hatstand. Huh, looks like Harold’s not the only guy who’s hung up on Susan now! Ha ha ha ha ha!

But seriously, I wonder why she doesn’t want to be his Valentine? I mean, sure, his decision to murder her best friend may have come out of nowhere, but so did her sudden desire to get some cake, so they seem perfect to me! Love thrives on spontaneity!

There’s no follow up to these events before we cut to 19 years later. That’s the origin story. One of the trademark elements of a slasher film is a villain who has been wronged in the past. Freddy Krueger was burned alive in an act of vigilante justice. Jason murders teens because they let him drown, as did his mother before him. The killer from I Know What You Did Last Summer kills because he knows what they did last summer. What does Harold from Hospital Massacre have as a motivation? He was rejected by a girl once in grade school.

You know, sadly, this is probably the most believable slasher villain motivation that I’ve ever encountered.

So, in 1980, Susan has grown up to be a successful business woman, but is still unlucky in love, having divorced her husband Tom, with whom she has a daughter. That’s about all we learn about this now adult Susan before she is driven by her new boyfriend Jack to the hospital, where the remainder of the film takes place. 

The ninth floor of this hospital is currently being fumigated, which adds some nice eerie fog to the proceedings, as well as a lot of confusion as to why characters continue to visit this floor regardless. In the first of many instances of the poor communication between this hospital’s staff, Dr. Jacobs is called up to the 9th floor, and heads there, despite it being fumigated. She is promptly murdered by a mysterious man dressed in surgical scrubs.

After murdering her doctor, the surgeon killer swaps out Susan’s x-rays with a fake pair that apparently suggest that Susan is in need of immediate medical attention. The film can’t be bothered to specify just what life-threatening condition this could be exactly. All we know is that this is a urgent condition that requires Playboy model Barbi Benton to undress so that a doctor can re-evaluate her. Proper medical procedure or gratuitous nudity? I’ll let you figure that one out.

The movie tries to justify this nude scene by throwing in some hilariously lame attempts at building tension. During the check-up, the doctor moves his hands up towards Susan’s neck. Could he be about to choke her to death? Um, no, he’s just checking her pulse and breathing and stuff. But then, he picks up a sharp needle! Could he be about to stab her to death?! Um, no, he’s just drawing blood. Also, a needle poke wouldn’t kill someone.

While Susan awaits the results of her test, the film sets about establishing its murder mystery. The film’s pitiful attempt to build up a cast of suspects for its masked killer essentially amounts to the film making us question whether all the male characters are staring at Susan just because she is played by Barbi Benton, or because she’s played by Barbi Benton and so they want to kill her. 

Could the killer be Hal, a man who is allowed to wander the hallways of the hospital drunk for some reason, and who sloppily eats a hamburger with way too much ketchup so that the film can try to briefly trick us into thinking its blood? Um, no, ketchup and blood do not look similar. At all.

Could it be Susan’s ex-husband Tom, as suggested in a brief, unresolved subplot where Susan calls her daughter and is told that Tom left their child home alone? 

Could it be handsome doctor #1, Dr. Saxon, who seems intent on keeping Susan in the hospital at all costs?

Or could it be handsome doctor #2, whose name is Harry, just like the Harold from the film’s cold open, and who acts charming towards Susan before disappearing for three-fourths of the movie? 

Huh. I just don’t know, Hospital Massacre.

While a nurse is typing up Susan’s blood work, she is killed by the surgeon, who waited behind a closet door until she finished typing, despite the fact that he just wants to swap out the blood report with another fake document. Another nurse discovers this, and is strangled with a stethoscope, so at least the film delivered on everyone’s expected hospital themed murder. 

When the doctors receive this false report, they decide that Susan needs to be kept in the hospital for observation. She is placed in the same room as three elderly women, who gossip to themselves about the ways in which Susan’s still-undefined illness could cause her to shrivel up and die. Like the fumigated floor before them, the three elderly women add atmosphere to the film, being reminiscent of the Fates from Greek mythology, as well as add a lot of confusion, particularly as to who they are and why the film spends so much time on their bickering when it could be developing a more complex mystery.

With Susan kept in the hospital far longer than expected, boyfriend Jack decides to visit her. When told by a nurse that Susan was placed under observation and that she can give him no more details, Jack mutters, “That explains everything,” in a line that was clearly written as sarcastic, but is delivered in a manner that suggest the film really does want us to forget that it can’t be bothered to come up with some possible deadly disease that Susan could have.

While waiting for more word, Jack receives a phone call telling him to head up to the floor that is currently being fumigated. There, he crosses paths with the three elderly women, who are also just randomly wandering these gas-filled hallway, before heading into a nearby room. He begins to hear a menacing whisper from a shadowy figure. “Is Susan your mistress?” the voices hisses. “Can you touch her wherever you like? In all her… secret places…?” 

Secret places? Geez, I wonder why this guy can’t get a date. Well, there’s the breasts and the vulva and associated areas, but, well, most people know about those, surgeon killer… Or are there more secret places that we don’t know about?! Gasp! WHAT ARE YOU HIDING FROM US, SUSAN??!

The surgeon steps out of the shadows and kills Jack. He then delivers a Valentine gift to Susan’s bedside. Susan awakens and opens the gift to reveal a… Jack-in-the-box. Aww, how cute! Well, more accurately, it’s Jack’s-head-in-a-box, but, hey, it’s the thought that counts. This film is really trying to one-up the other Valentine themed slasher flick I’ve covered in this series with this bit, as that one only ever had cardiac organs in its Valentine’s Day presents. Eat your heart out, My Bloody Valentine!

After receiving her boyfriend’s decapitated head, Susan runs through the hallways of the hospital screaming for help. The only people she finds, though, are three men strung up in full body casts, which only causes her to scream louder. Oh my god! It’s people who have had severe enough injuries that they need extensive cast work on their bodies! The horror! How do we know if they are even people anymore with their bodies covered like that?!

Dr. Saxon finds Susan screaming, and returns her to her hospital room. After seeing that the Valentine box now only contains a cake, he decides that Susan needs to be detained, as one of the reported symptoms of her still completely unexplained medical condition is mental deterioration. With Susan now confined to the hospital, strapped to her bed, and drugged by some non-descript pink pill designed to treat her non-descript fake illness, it appears that the killer’s plot is almost complete! What could it all be leading up to?!

The surgeon picks off some more nurses and doctors before we find out. One kill involves the killer walking slowly down a hallway towards a nurse, holding a spread-out white sheet in front of him. For anyone with a dreadful fear of white sheets, such as this young nurse, it’s a terrifying sequence. For all of you out there not scared by bedsheets, it’s, well, pretty laughable.

Finally, the surgeon enacts the final stage of his master plan. With all this planning involved, I hope its something really good! He wheels Susan to a surgical table, where he begins to caress her “secret areas.” However, the surgeon decides it’s best not to leave Susan strapped down as he prepares to operate on her. And, so Susan reaches out and pulls of the mask revealing the killer to be…

Yeah, it’s Harry. 

Well, as an irritated Harry says, “Not Harry. It’s Harold, remember?” at which point the film flashes back to the cold open where child Susan laughs at child Harold’s Valentine. Yes, this film’s twist ending relies entirely on the viewer not knowing how nicknames work.

This twist is apparently targeted at the kind of people who can’t figure out that LarryBoy is actually Larry the Cucumber… which is honesty probably more people than I expect. 

But wait! There’s more! “Harry” backwards is “Yrrah”, which is approximately the sound I scream out in frustration when having to deal with how dumb this mystery was!

So, with the killer’s identity revealed, Susan asks Harold what he wants. “What I’ve always wanted,” Harold replies, while grabbing a surgical saw. “Your heart.”

…You know, I’ve heard of a lot of elaborate attempts to win over a romantic interest before, but, well, Harold here just blows them all out of the water. Here is a man who is willing to spend 19 years, during which time he made no further effort to communicate with Susan or express his feelings for her, building up his master plan, attending medical school, getting a job at a big-city hospital where Susan lives, waiting for her to get a work-related medical check-up, waiting for her to return for the results of this work-related medical check-up, murdering her primary physician so that he can swap out her X-rays for fake ones, murdering a nurse so that he can swap out her blood work for another fake, building up enough of a paper trail to get her placed under observation, and then finally taking her to an operating table so that he can literally, not figuratively, have her heart. 

Wow! How romantic! I mean, if it was me, I probably would have just cut out her heart without all that trouble or paperwork, or maybe just talk to her again because people’s feelings change a lot since grade school. But, hey, it’s just really sweet when someone’s willing to make such a grand gesture for the person they love. What a nice guy!

And so, after 19 years of careful planning, Harold’s master plan is undone when the three old women show up again, looking for Dr. Saxon, which distracts him long enough for Susan to stab him with a knife and run away. Yes, he would have gotten away with his elaborate murder plan 19 years in the making if it weren’t for those meddling… elderly people! Never underestimate the meddling nature of elderly people, dude!

The film then culminates with a tedious chase sequences around the hospital, ending with Harold being doused in chemicals, lit on fire, and tumbling off a roof to his death. Now that’s what I call burning love, am I right? Ha ha ha ha! Susan exits the hospital and is reunited with her ex-husband and daughter before the movie ends, because, hey, what other resolution do we need from a film with no plot and unremarkable characters.

You know, sometimes, the heart knows what it wants, and sometimes it doesn’t. Hospital Massacre does not know what it wants. Was it a Valentine’s Day themed slasher, or a hospital themed one? Was Harold meant to be a sympathetic character in that cold open, or was Susan?  Were those three elderly women meant to be comedic relief, or a deus ex machina, or did they serve no purpose at all? Was Harold’s forging of documents an elaborate plot, or was it entirely pointless? The film ultimately can’t decide on any of these points, leaving Hospital Massacre to desperate scramble to come up with increasingly absurd reasons as to why anything happens in this film at all, while always refusing to detail Susan’s supposed illness. While there’s a lot of charm from the film’s shlocky slasher nature, it really features nothing that hasn’t been done better elsewhere, such as in the hospital-set slashers mentioned at the beginning, or in My Bloody Valentine.

There is, however, one part of this film that truly stands out, and that’s Harold. His elaborate romantic gesture towards Susan is just truly inspiring. Seeing a man go through medical school and forge all that unnecessary paperwork just so he can gain the heart of his grade-school sweetheart… well, it was just really something. Hospital Massacre may be a terrible slasher, but I’ll always remember the way in which Harold’s gesture touched my heart, the most secret of all secret areas.

Hospital Massacre is available on Blu-ray and DVD.

NEXT: The Night A TRULY NUCLEAR FAMILY Came Home…