Chapter Text
“I’ll see you on the other side darlin’”
No. No. No. This can’t be happening.
“L-Logan?”
Overhead, the lights that had been flashing in her eyes dimmed and a disembodied voice spoke. “Security protocol Delta complete. Threat has been neutralized.”
She tugged against Logan, trying to untangle herself from his arms, but they were too heavy for her to lift from her position beneath him.
"Logan?”
No response. Chloe tugged again, desperation fueling her as she tried to free herself, but Logan’s arms will still locked around her, his hand clutching her head tight to his chest. She couldn’t even pull back far enough to look at him.
“Logan it's over. The lasers. They've stopped.” Tears filled her eyes, filled her voice as she spoke, the words broken and weak. “We-we can leave. We can get out of here. Let’s go home."
Still no response. The arms that had held her so fiercely went limp, and Chloe couldn’t stop her scream when Logan fell to the floor. Nor the one after that, when he continued to lay motionless on the ground. She said his name again, then screamed it, over and over again. She didn’t stop screaming at all until pounding on the door behind her alerted her to Justice and Unsuur’s return.
“Chloe? Chloe what’s wrong?! What happened?!” Dimly she heard Justice’s voice, muffled through the door. She heard loud banging, but the doors behind her remained closed, the lasers having damaged the structure they moved on, the tracks warped too badly to open. Justice and Unsuur couldn’t get to her. She was trapped.
Her screams shifted into great racking sobs. They filled her lungs, the tears streaming down her face as she tried to swallow, tried to speak, drowning her. The words caught in her throat, strangling her. She choked out another sob, pushing up off the floor as she crawled to where Logan lay on the ground, still. So perfectly still, as if he had simply fallen asleep.
Logan was never still. He was always moving, shifting his feet, fidgeting, changing his stance, spinning his daggers or his guns in his fingers. Or touching her. Logan was always touching her. A hand on her hip, his lips against her palm, his fingers tangled in her hair. The thought of never having his hands on her again broke her.
Another half-keening sob tore out of her as she touched shaking fingers to his skin. Her hands felt like they belonged to someone else, the tips of her fingers numb where they touched him. It was cold and clammy, sweat still dampening the hair at his temple. Her hand trembled as she touched his shoulder, fear coating her throat, settling in her stomach like lead. Using what little strength she had left, she pulled Logan into her lap, his stomach resting on her thighs. Gathering her courage, she rested a hand on the back of his neck, and examined the extent of his injuries.
Black edged his skin, Chloe’s shaking hand brushing away the ash from where his shirt had burned away as gently as she could. The fear of hurting him more-or worse that he was beyond more hurt-terrified her. Beneath the smoking remains of linen, his skin itself was charred in places, dark angry red in most others, the flesh already blistering over. Other spots had gone a sickly shade of white and gray, almost as if all the pigment had been leached out of those parts, the color burned away like a piece of parchment left out in the sun for too long.
The burns covered his back and shoulders, small circles on his pants where some of the other lasers had melted through the leather to strike him, the skin beneath it raw and red.
This can’t be happening.
Bile rose in her throat, Chloe trying to swallow it down, to suck in much-needed air instead, but her lungs wouldn’t obey. Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to get her lungs to expand. Tears blurred her vision, burning hot wet streaks down her cheeks to land on his back, evaporating immediately against the inferno still traced across his skin. Another scream tore out of her, this one filled with such anguish the very walls seem to react to it.
“Chloe! Chloe answer me!”
She couldn’t. There was no air…not in her lungs, not in the room. The whole world ceased to breathe in a vacuum of insurmountable grief that carved her up from the inside out.
A robotic voice over the loudspeakers again, this one welcoming them to the research center. She couldn’t hear the rest over the pounding of her heart, so loud and fast it was a constant thrum in her head, the words incomprehensible to her ears.
Her vision still swam in and out, but she heard Justice and Unsuur speaking from behind the door, telling her they were coming and to hold tight, their voices sounding thin and far away.
The breath wouldn’t reach her lungs. She kept trying to get air but every time she opened her mouth another scream rose from her.
The field of her vision narrowed to a pinprick of space, the edge of Logan’s face fading in and out as she tried to focus. Chloe shook her head, her lungs protesting the lack of oxygen.
Breathe, love. Slowly. Logan’s voice in her head, a flash of memory from one of the many nights she’d woken terrified from another Duvos nightmare, Lefu’s hand on her back and his threats lingering in the air. It took her several tries, but she finally remembered how to breathe, held it as Logan had taught her to before releasing it slowly. Again and again she forced herself to repeat the motion, her heart rate slowing as she counted in her head. Her vision expanded, the small circle widening to take in more of the room, more of Logan… and his injuries.
Reality crashed back into her, and with it, overwhelming despair.
“Don’t…don’t go. Please.” The words were a whispered plea, Chloe begging for a miracle from uncaring gods. “Please.” Louder now, a near desperate scream. But still, no response from the man in her arms. Shoulders shaking in anguish, Chloe pulled him closer, her tears soaking into floor.
This can’t be happening.
The words echoed in her mind as grief sank its teeth into her, swallowing her whole in great greedy bites. The sound of her harsh breath and harsher sobs filled the room, the only noise at all until a thunderous crash sounded somewhere deeper in the facility.
A great whirling whine, like a gear that hadn’t been used in a decade or oiled for longer, echoed in the hallway. Chloe’s gaze shot to the opposite side of the room, where a small gap had appeared between the two blast doors at the other end of the room. She half expected to see Justice’s face. Instead, a curved mechanical claw, three feet long and with a metal scythe attached to the inside edge curled into the small opening, twisting and cutting through the impossibly thick metal doors like it was flimsy aluminum. One foot, tipped with a razor sharp serrated claw speared through the gap, landing on the inside of the room, that back of it wedged to keep the door open.
Chloe reached for Logan’s gun with shaking hands. Her own was locked in a box at home, nearly untouched since Logan had stampeded into her life. She was a terrible shot, and Logan was always around to protect her.
Her fingertips were numb as she attempted to close her hand over it, the gun feeling odd and unfamiliar to her, despite the fact that she had handled it before. It slipped from her nerveless fingers, clattering to the ground, and Chloe cursed quietly as she struggled to calm her racing heart, to ground herself in this awful reality where the very act of breathing sent shards of anguish racing through her.
It took both her thumbs to pull back the hammer, and the first shot went wide, ricocheting off the wall three feet from the mechanical monstrosity’s head to land harmlessly on the floor. The light above the door flashed green for a moment, the door sliding open a foot. Chloe fired another round, squeezing the trigger slowly as Logan had taught her. It struck true, flying through the gap in the door and pinging harshly against the robot’s mid-section.
A red flash, and the door slid closed quickly, pinching the clawed appendage and the robot foot sharply at an odd angle. The door was still open, a small gap about six inches wide, that Chloe shot two bullets through. The first one pinged against the curved blade of the attached scythe, the second struck home. A hissing sound, like a piston releasing air, echoed in the chamber, and the claw came uncoupled, hanging by a single braided wire.
Even that hollow victory was taken from her a moment later. The monster had wedged its other claws in the gap between the two doors, twisting the limb to angle the blade against the doors. The metal of the door crumpled around its scythe-like appendage, and then the front half of its body was pushing through the door. Chloe could now see what it was, some old-world scientist’s warped abomination of a mechanical praying mantis.
Seven feet tall, with twin metal antenna arcing from the top of its head, it was horrifying. Glowing green eyes sat on the side of a triangular shaped face, and Chloe could see a pair of metal wings curving from its back, fluttering with razor sharp wires threaded through what would have been the wing membrane on a normal mantis. Its head tilted slightly, the green of one eye scanning the room. Chloe held her breath, afraid to move in case that triggered an attack. It wouldn’t have mattered, as soon as the eye tracked over her position it flashed red, and the monstrous machine let out an ear piercing shriek as its back half pushed against the back of the door, trying desperately to break through.
This can’t be happening.
Hands shaking even more than before, Chloe took aim again, firing two more bullets in rapid succession. Logan had aimed for the mid-section on the last robot, so Chloe did too. The rounds struck with a resounding ping, but whatever this thing was made off, its tensile strength was too great for the shots to do more than scratch it. She needed to find a weak spot. The creature surged against the doors, the metal screeching as it bent and warped against the incursion. If she could take out those scythes she had a chance. Desperately, she squeezed the trigger again, two more shots going off as she aimed for the joint of the other claw. As if it sensed her intent, the mantis turned its claw, the bullets bouncing off the armored edge to ping on the floor.
She squeezed the trigger again, but there was no recoil, no kick. Just a quiet, final click. Out. She was out of bullets. Scrambling, she shifted Logan off her legs as gently as she could, reaching for the rifle her father had given him months ago as a wedding present. The memory of Logan’s smile when he unwrapped the gift had her blinking back tears, grief stabbing her again and again with razor sharp knives.
As soon as she closed a hand over it, she knew it was hopeless, the wooden bolt handle of the rifle had shattered, the loading mechanism dangling by a single threaded screw. There was no way to fire it. She was truly trapped.
Metal crunched, the doors in front of her caving further in as the monster shoved against them, the one still functioning scythe digging into the floor for purchase, sending sparks flying as it clawed at the ground.
There was no way out now, and she had nothing left to fight with.
At least she’d be with him. She wouldn’t have to go through the rest of her life missing him with every bone in her body, with every single breath she took. She wouldn’t have to wake up every day and face a world that had moved on without him, that could move on, while she was stuck frozen in amber, dreaming of a life that she’d never have. A life that was stolen from her by her own carelessness. This was her fault. But, she could just stay right here, with him, and let fate do what it willed. Light knows she deserved this suffering, but a little bit of peace alongside the punishment couldn’t be too much to ask.
Someone would have to tell Andy. But her parents loved him, they’d take care of him. Her parents… her parents would forgive her. They knew what Logan was to her. She’d tried. She fought. It just… wasn’t enough.
Her hand slipped off Logan’s arm, fingers catching on the dagger attached to his belt. The cool touch of metal grounded her, and her eyes went to his face. Shame was a giant rock in her chest, crushing her lungs as guilt and grief added their weight. She’d promised him she would look after Andy. She’d promised him. And she had been ready to give up at the first hurdle. If the situation was reversed. If… if it was her lying on the ground, Logan would already be carving into that thing with his daggers. He wouldn’t give up. Chloe couldn’t either.
She could do this-had to do this. She promised Logan, and she wouldn't let him down. Wouldn't let their son down.
Andy. What would she tell Andy. You’ll tell him the truth: that Logan’s last words were about him. That Logan loves him. And that you promised to take care of him.
The words were whispered against his cheek, Chloe pressing one final kiss to it before she stood on shaking legs. The tears hadn’t stopped… Chloe didn’t think they ever would. She didn’t know how she was going to do any of this without Logan, but she needed to try. If only so he could say he was proud of her when she saw him again. She took all of it; her grief, her shame, her guilt and buried it inside her as far as she could. She could break when this was over.
The monster tracked her advance, claw scraping against the floor as it tried to crawl its way towards her. Despair had a chokehold on her, but she breathed through the aching pain of it, studying the monster as she skirted towards the side with the broken claw. If she could stay away from its working scythe attachment and get under it, she could cripple its movement. The legs looked like a fairly basic hydraulic system. Damage one or two of the tubes and the entire thing would topple over. She just needed to make sure she stayed away from its blade.
If Chloe had anything going for her, it was that she was quick on her feet. With a practiced grace she ran up, narrowly avoiding the claw as it swiped at her, and struck a quick series of blows against the hydraulic lifts that were keeping the right front leg of the monster elevated. Grim satisfaction tore through her as the casing on the tube broke, steam spilling out as she pulled away quickly.
The mantis lurched forward, losing some of its height as the tubes were crushed under the additional strain. If she could get to the claw appendage, and take it out, she could dismantle this thing piece by piece. Adrenaline filled her as the robot swiped out again, no longer trying to claw its way into the room, its sole intent now focused on eviscerating her. The daggers spun in her hand, Chloe making a zigzag running pattern as she slid under the leg she had just caused to collapse and attacked the wires at the joint where the claw was attached. Sparks flew as the edge of the blade made contact with the casing covering the wires. Chloe struck again, and again, but while there were now scores in the metal, the wires beneath remained hidden, the casing made of strong enough material that even titanium couldn’t easily break through it. She needed a new plan.
Shouting echoed from the hall behind the monstrosity, bullets pinging into metal a second later. The cavalry had arrived. Chloe tried to shout a warning, but her words stuck in her throat. She could hear Justice’s curse as the robot in front of her shifted backward slightly, ostensibly changing targets with its back feet. She couldn’t see anything from her spot below the belly of the monster, still striking against the housing that hid the wires from her. A small meow, and Captain, with deputy hat still impossibly attached, slid between the mantis’s legs. Chloe continued to try and pry the casing loose.
A fluttering sounded above her, almost entirely drowned out by the metallic strikes of bladed weapons against armor. The wires stretched out of reach, the giant robot somehow impossibly hovering off the ground, the wings somehow generating enough power to lift it. A curse sounded from the backside, footsteps echoing against metal a second later. Chloe heard a loud grunt, followed by a sharp screech. Some sixth sense told her to move; so she did, racing out from underneath the robot, Captain hot on her heels.
Justice was balanced precariously on joint between the thorax and neck of the mantis, his warhammer banging sharply against the mantis’s head, right between the antennae. Unsuur shouted a warning, and Justice crouched down as the Mantis tried to lift itself even higher, the wings fluttering faster and faster.
“Take,” her throat was raw from the screaming, her voice coming out in a hoarse croak. Chloe tried again, swallowing thickly as desperation collided with grief. “Take out the wing joints!”
“And don’t hit me!” Justice shouted, glancing back down at presumably Unsuur. The deputy’s response was lost as Justice resumed his wild swinging, crashing his warhammer down again and again. Another loud screech sounded from the robot, one of its antennas snapping off and falling to the floor after a particularly vicious hit. A series of quick shots were fired from somewhere behind Justice, and the creature wobbled, one of its wings collapsing at an awkward angle. It sank back down, the claw Chloe had been working on just a minute ago trapped uselessly beneath its body. With a final upward swing, Justice separated the head from the body, electricity arcing through the exposed wires from the stump of its neck. The head clattered to the ground some feet away, the light from its bright red eyes slowly dimming, until finally, they went out.
The mantis collapsed, wires crackling with residual electricity and Chloe scrambled away, watching warily until the whole monster finally ground to a halt.
“What happened Chloe?! Are you alright?! Where’s Log-" Justice’s voice dropped off, and she knew he had seen Logan.
She couldn't meet the Sheriff’s gaze, couldn't even find the courage to lift her head as more and more tears spilled down her cheeks. The adrenaline the fight had given her fled from her bones in a rush, and her feet became wildly unsteady underneath her.
"He- he shielded me from the lasers." The rest of the words wouldn't come, locked behind a choking sob. When she finally gathered the courage to look up she wished she hadn't. Justice's face had gone ashen, his eyes locked on the body of his childhood friend.
"This is all my fault," she sobbed. "We never should have come here." Chloe crumbled to her knees, great racking sobs rising from her throat again to spill out in choked gasps as her heart shattered for the thousandth time. She couldn't watch as both men crouched near her husband's broken body, a murmured conversation taking place. The only thing Chloe could hear was the roaring in her own ears, and an endless keening whine. Dimly, she realized the noise was coming from her. Without conscious thought, her arms folded around her stomach, as if that physical barrier would keep her from breaking apart at the seams.
This can’t be happening.
At some point, after what felt like hours but was probably only mere moments, Chloe felt movement near her, a tiny black paw pressing on her thigh as Captain climbed onto her lap and settled there. She couldn’t get her hands to move, was half certain if she tried the screams she had finally locked away in her soul would come pouring out. Captain didn’t seem to mind, instead purring as even the cat attempted to comfort her.
"....Alive."
The words didn't register. Sounds in the shape of words echoed around her, but Chloe was too far gone in her grief and fear to understand what was being said. She kept picturing Logan as he had been this morning, his hands on her hips, his lips against hers as he turned her body into mush. She had always been putty in his hands.
Someone crouched in front of her, hands on her shoulders to gain her attention. Chloe shrugged them off. She didn't want anyone to touch her but Logan, and he... he...
"Logan..."
Those hands on her shoulders again, shaking her now. Chloe looked up into Unsuur's brown eyes, the sympathy in them making her want to vomit. Chloe couldn’t swallow the bile down, turning her head as the contents of her stomach emptied itself on the floor. Unsuur said nothing, just shifted slightly to rub her back, avoiding the puddle of sick as Chloe heaved.
When she was finished, he pulled her own water canteen off her belt, offering it to her after she wiped her mouth with her sleeve.
“What,” her voice was a croak, “what did you say?”
“Logan is breathing Chloe. He’s alive. He’s hurt- bad- but he’s alive.”
The canteen slipped to the ground from nerveless fingers, clattering metallically against the floor. She tried to stand, but her legs didn’t have any strength in them. A hand filled her vision, Unsuur pulling her to her feet and letting her lean against him as she half-ran, half-stumbled towards where Justice had propped Logan against the wall.
The Sheriff was trying to remove the burned pieces of Logan’s clothing but Chloe stopped him, vaguely remembering a conversation where Logan had insisted she learned to treat electrical burns after her own near-disastrous run-in with tripions. Removing the shirt sections that were fused to his skin could do more harm than good, so instead she helped Justice cut away any loose bits. She had argued with Logan at the time that all she would ever need was Merle to get her to Fang’s in time, but she was grateful now that he had stood firm.
She rifled through her pockets for clean gauze to wrap around the worst of the spots, but it wasn’t enough, Logan so badly injured she ran out of gauze before she could cover even half of him. With chunks of burns still exposed due to her limited supplies, Chloe looked at the other two human corps members, her hand now locked around Logan’s wrist.
“We need to get him to Fang’s.” Justice’s eyes never left Logan’s form but, by the grim set of his mouth Chloe knew it wasn’t going to be easy.
“How are we going to get out? Back the way we came?”
Justice was shaking his head, lifting Logan as gently as he could onto his back. “There’s a stairwell in the corridor we came through. It should lead back up to the atrium.”
“Can you carry him, sir?”
Justice’s voice was laced with a conviction strong enough to bend metal. “To Hell and back if need be, Deputy.”
Logan’s limp arms hung over the Sheriff’s shoulders, so still that Chloe’s heart ached every time she looked at him. Unsuur had slung the rifle strap over his arm, the weapon dangling by the stock at his hip. Captain strolled forward on steady paws, the vanguard of their little group, while Chloe brought up the rear carrying Logan’s pistol in one hand. She had reloaded from Justice’s stock, Logan’s gun belt having been damaged by the lasers, the contents melted beyond all use.
“The doorway we came through is just up ahead,” Justice paused, shifting Logan higher up his back. “We just need to avoid the rest of the robots and then we can get out of here.”
Unsuur had his sword out, ready to carve through anything that tried to touch them as they made their way to the blast doors, stepping over the still sparking mechanical mantis. From her vantage point at the doors, Chloe could see more labs lining the hallways, vines curving along the light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. A door at the fair end was marked with a sign reading “To Lower Levels Authorized Access Only.” The same robotic voice from earlier came over the speakers, beginning an automated spiel welcoming them to something called the garden, before it devolved into more standard recorded information and Chloe stopped listening. Her hands tightened reflexively on Logan’s gun, but there were no further robots that appeared. Banging sounded from farther down the hallway and all four of them picked up the pace, damn near sprinting to the door labeled with an emergency exit sign, a green light flashing above it. For the first time in what felt like hours, Chloe felt a small seed of hope blooming in her chest.
The ascension up the stairs was a blur, Chloe’s eyes locked on Logan’s form slung over Justice’s back as she brought up the rear. Rambo’s concerned bleat had the tears she had valiantly been fighting back resuming, the goat coming over to sniff Logan’s hair and bleating unhappily when Logan didn’t move.
Chloe’s hands shook as she removed the saddle bags from Rambo, rifling through it in desperation and pulling out anything and everything that might even be remotely useful out.
Justice shook his head, his hands covering hers as she yanked item after item out. “We need to wait for a cart. There isn’t enough space for both Logan and I upright for that long. And you won’t be able to hold him.” His voice was clipped, short and authoritative, none of which she was used to, but it snapped her out of the panicked state she was in. “Unsuur, take Boulder and alert Fang. Let him know Logan’s been injured by laser fire.” The Deputy departed a moment later, sand kicking up dust as he raced across the dunes back towards town.
Justice lifted Logan into the saddle, Chloe holding Logan while Justice mounted behind him. They wrapped more cloth around Logan, protecting his fragile skin from the zippers and buttons of Justice’s shirt. With a nudge to Rambo, Justice set forward in a steady loping gait that would eat up the distance between the ruins and the yakmel stop at the edge of the Outback, Chloe following behind on Truth bare moments later.
The cart and driver were waiting for them, Unsuur having sent him on ahead. The two men loaded Logan onto the back of the yakmel cart, Chloe already seated on the floor with the medical supplies from Rambo’s bags waiting. They placed him on his stomach, and Justice and Chloe worked together to apply salve and clean bandages to the areas they could while the cart trundled along. Justice asked her questions, but Chloe couldn’t answer them, couldn’t find the words to explain that Logan had sacrificed himself to shield her. Justice’s questions were drowned out by the whine of lasers and Logan’s choked off screams in her memories. Every time she tried to speak, the words stuck in her throat, and Chloe had to lean over the side and retch more than once during the ride back. Eventually Justice just stopped asking.
Once Logan was as bandaged as they could get him, Chloe rested his head in her lap. She kept one hand on his neck, feeling the sluggish beat of his pulse as Justice urged the driver to go as fast as the beast could, Rambo and Truth providing an escort as they returned to town. It would never be fast enough for Chloe, the journey interminable. Panic rose again and again, and it was only the feel of Logan’s breath against her thigh that kept her from devolving into an incoherent mess. Tears continued to slide down her cheeks, melting into Logan’s hair as she ran her fingers through the silver-white strands.
The repetitive motion helped soothe the ragged edges of her soul, the slight rise and fall of Logan’s chest as the cart rolled through town more so, a rhythmic reminder to keep breathing herself. When they arrived outside the clinic, Unsuur and Fang were already waiting for them. The deputy hopped into the cart to help Justice lift Logan off her lap. Between the two men Logan was carried safely off the cart and into the clinic, Chloe following closely behind, Once Logan was settled on his stomach, Fang began removing the bandages she and Justice had wrapped so carefully around him. Each inch of cloth removed revealed more and more burned skin, the full extent of his injuries laid bare had a whimper rising in her throat.
Fang must have heard it, his next words directed at Justice as urged Chloe to sit in the chair near the wall. “Tell me… what happened.”
Justice relayed what information he had, detailing their discovery of Kira, the battle with the robots before they had split up and ending with the fight against the praying mantis.
“But, I don’t really know what happened to Logan. Chloe just said….” The Sheriff trailed off, glancing to where Chloe sat curled in on herself, her hands twisted and fisted in her lap, tears once again gathering in her eyes.
“Chloe?”
“I-I must have triggered the security when I broke the console…we walked through the door and the lasers just started shooting and Logan protected me and now, now he’s-he’s-,” she couldn’t finish the rest of it, tears spilling out of her again. The image of Logan’s body toppling to the ground in front of her, the sound of his pained cries as the lasers hit him over and over again, the last words he spoke to her...those images would replay in her head for an anguished eternity. Tears falling faster now, Chloe buried her face in her hands and wept.
Whatever Fang’s response, Chloe couldn’t hear it over the sound of her own sobs, but X flew out the door a moment later. She shook her head when Fang tried to offer her tea; both Justice and Unsuur attempting to calm her, with no success. Eventually, they gave up and left her to cry in the chair, her eyes locked on Logan’s too-still form in the bed. Justice, Unsuur and Fang continued their conversation in low tones, the words too garbled for her to make sense of.
Minutes ticked by and Unsuur and Justice both left, offering words of comfort to Chloe that made her feel even more alone. The door hadn’t even managed to fully close before Nia came sprinting through it, her face blanching as she took in the sight of Logan on the bed and Chloe curled in a ball in one of the chairs, eyes on Logan. Chloe didn’t hear what she said either, but a moment later she was crouching at Chloe’s feet, her hands on Chloe’s as she spoke. Chloe saw her mouth move, but couldn’t make out the words.
Forcing herself to focus, Chloe blinked as Nia said something to Fang, the words still too garbled to hear. She was still crying, she realized.
"You...should leave."
The order forced Chloe's attention away from where Logan lay in the hospital bed.
"No."
"Logan is... in shock. I need... to cut away the burns."
"You want to cut him open?" Panic rose inside her. He was already so hurt, how could hurting him more possibly help.
"Chloe calm down," Nia, ever the voice of reason, spoke calmly, shooting an inscrutable look at Fang.
"Don’t tell me to-" voice rising along with her panic, Chloe stood moving to put herself between Logan and Fang. A flash of something crossed the doctor's face, too fast for Chloe's addled brain to make sense of it.
"Chloe!" Nia's tone morphed from a soothing cadence into that of a veteran schoolteacher in seconds. The admonishment did its job, Nia always able to talk her down. Chloe focused again on Fang as he opened his mouth.
"Could you explain why you need to do this Fang? Maybe that will help Chloe understand." With a withering look at her best friend Nia tugged on her arm, bringing her back to the chair she had risen from, her grip firm.
Fang’s voice was soft as he spoke, his gaze more on Nia than Chloe. "Logan... suffered massive burns. He is in shock. There is a danger of sepsis"
"I don't," Chloe swallowed audibly looking between Nia and Fang. "I don't know what that is."
"When you get an infection, your body tries to fight it off. Sepsis occurs when the body overdoes its response basically. Fang needs to make sure that Logan’s body isn’t doing that.”
Seeing the look of surprise, Nia offered a smile, "my mom- stepmom rather, is a pharmacist. I used to help after school sometimes and when it was slow I’d read the medical texts for something to do.”
Even Chloe was surprised at the small smile on Fang’s face with that explanation.
“An infection? From the burns?”
A short nod, Fang reaching over Logan again to wrap a piece of cloth around a section of skin that had fused to his shirt. “I… will test. But to heal him…we need to remove… the burned sections. Replace them…”
Nia’s head tilted to the side, her green eyes considering as she studied Fang, “Skin grafting?”
Fang nodded.
Tears slid down Chloes cheeks again, the grief she had been fighting all day slamming in to her again. Her hands were shaking again, fingers foreign against her own skin. She wanted to hold Logan’s hand, feel his pulse beat against her. She didn’t care what it took, she just wanted him to be okay.
“Have… have you done this before? Will this work?” Her voice was shaking, the words a struggle to get out.
“Yes, I have. Not.. so much, and not so….damaged… but I have done this before.”
“When… when can I-?”
“I will…send X.”
Chloe couldn’t stop herself from reaching for Logans hand, brushing her thumb over his knuckles before giving it a quick squeeze, though releasing his hand took a concentrated effort of will.
Exiting the clinic, Chloe was met with blinding sunlight. How could everything look so bright and cheerful while her entire world was falling to pieces at her feet? The door closed quietly behind her, familiar footsteps and a small hand on her back, shifting her attention back to the horrendous here and now.
“I can’t do this Nia.”
There was a pregnant pause, Nia contemplating her words in a rare show of restraint before she spoke. “You don’t have a choice. While Logan is out of commission you have to hold it together. For Andy. He needs you."
"Logan needs me."
But Nia shook her head, lips firming into an implacable line that brooked no argument. "No, Logan needs Fang. I love you, CeeCee, but you cannot help him right now. But you can help Andy. And by helping Andy you will help Logan. When, not if, but when he wakes up." The logic was so typically Nia that it parted the rising wave of panic inside Chloe.
With a long hug, Nia left Chloe standing in the sunlight, returning to the clinic to provide what assistance she could to Fang, at Chloe’s request. Nia would be more useful to Fang in there than she would be to Chloe.
Alone, and utterly lost, Chloe found her steps leading to the graveyard. Logan always found comfort there but for her the pull was something else, a weight on her chest and a confession to be made. Kneeling, Chloe brushed the sand in front of her father-in-law’s headstone, grief and fear mingling together inside her. She usually came with flowers, bundled lavender or hyacinth orchids, wrapped in twine. The sun beat down on her, just as it had the first time Logan had taken her here. She’d held his hand while Logan had spoken to Howlett, squeezing when the words caught in his throat. It seemed the most natural thing in the world at the time to introduce herself, and Chloe had silently promised to take care of his son. She had failed. She had failed Logan, she had failed Howlett, she had failed Andy. She had failed everyone.
“I’m sorry.” It seemed…. Hopelessly inadequate. Swallowing, she tried again- but the words wouldn’t come. Just more tears, sliding down her cheeks to soak into the sand in front of her. It was a wonder she had any tears left in her.
“Howlett, I’m so so sorry. This- this is all my fault. I- I’m the one who wanted to go down there. Logan… he’s hurt because of me. It’s all my fault.” The tears fell faster now, guilt giving them weight as they struck the ground.
She heard her name, a bare whisper of sound from the boy standing at the graveyard gate. Chloe had hoped for more time to gather herself, to find the words that would protect Andy’s fragile heart as best she could. But, like everything else that day, fate had other plans.
Andy launched himself into her arms, and she shifted on the ground, crossing her legs under her so Andy was cradled in her lap, his face buried in her shoulder as he sobbed. Her own arms locked around him, holding him tightly to her as her moment of weakness in the ruins replayed in her head, shame crashing like a wave against her again. It didn’t matter that she came to her senses, all that mattered was that she lost them in the first place. Logan would never have hesitated.
“I’m so sorry Andy.”
Sniffling sobs as he locked his arms around her neck.
“Logan is hurt, but he is with Fang.” Soothing circles on his back, Chloe spoke quickly, doing her best to lead with hope. Even if she didn’t feel it right now, she would find some for Andy. And if not she would make some. “Fang is doing his best, he promised to let us know when he has an update. So we have to do our best to be patient in the meantime.” More soothing circles, Andy’s sobs having quieted to silent, but infinitely more heartbreaking, tears.
“I don’t want to lose anyone again.”
Eyes closing against a fresh onslaught of emotion, Chloe tightened her arms around him, hand stroking over his hair in comfort. Sometimes she forgot all that he had been through before Logan had found him in the desert, he seemed like such a happy kid most of the time. But that happiness had come after more heartache than anyone should have to bear, and she had almost made him go through it again. The snapping jaws of guilt bit into her, fangs of shame striking deep.
“Andy, look at me.”
Brilliant carnelian eyes stared at her from a face streaked with tears. She didn’t know what she was going to say, she didn’t know how to say it. Light she wanted Logan. Maybe that was the answer. Maybe Logan was the answer. What would Logan say? What would Logan do?
“Logan’s fighting right now to come back to us. And I promise Andy, I will fight too. I will always fight for you.”
Resolved to face whatever came, and to protect the child in her arms as best she could, Chloe wiped the tears from her eyes. A faint sound brought her attention to the gate. She hadn’t noticed, but Justice had brought Owen with him- his blue eyes met hers over the top of Andy’s head, the fear and grief in his eyes echoing her own.
The relationship between the three of them had mended, Logan sometimes said it felt stronger for the strain- as if the mettle had been tested and the bonds reforged with something stronger, more lasting. Their library-slash-office turned into a poker room Thursday evenings, Chloe making herself scarce more often than not so Justice, Owen and Logan could recapture some of that lost time. She’d come home on more than one occasion to the three of them passed out on the couches surrounding the low center table, chips forgotten and beer lukewarm. The sheepish smiles the next morning when they woke up were a memory Chloe held close to bolster her through the day. Along with so many others. She was hoarding every single image of happy Logan in her head to get her through the next few hours, wielding them like a shield against the eddying currents of fear and grief.
Chloe hefted that shield as she relayed what Fang had said about Logan’s wounds, and his treatment plan, keeping it as Andy-appropriate as she could given the circ*mstances. Both men’s gazes darkened as she finished, their eyes shooting to the clinic door that refused to open, no matter how much Chloe wished for it.
“We just have to wait,” she said, voice quivering as she fought to keep the panic out of it.
“I’ll watch Andy while you clean up,” Owen said, “no sense baking out here in the sun,” he added when Chloe opened her mouth to argue, but common sense prevailed. He was right, she was filthy, and Fang wouldn’t let her back into the clinic unless she was clean. She refused to entertain any other thought. There was no sense in staying close to the clinic right now, there was no telling how long it would be, and she had to think of Andy. Not being able to see Logan was probably making it worse, but at home she could at least successfully distract him.
With a nod, the four left the graveyard, Chloe offering a silent prayer to whoever was listening for Logan. Owen and Justice kept a running commentary, regaling Andy with stories of the three of them running around Sandrock when they were younger, and all the mischief they got up to, Logan would have complained about them putting ideas in his kid’s head, but Logan wasn’t here, Chloe was grateful for any glance of happiness on Andy’s face.
Her workshop was silent, the familiar sounds of machines from the factory non-existent in the early evening. Owen broke off with a promise of dinner for the four of them, and Justice parked himself in their living room with a deck of cards and more stories about Logan taking the life savings of a Lucien doctor in a game of Highwind hold ‘em, and then losing it all again the next day to the same doctor. Chloe went upstairs to shower while Justice described the look on Logan’s face when that last card had hit the table, and how mopey he had been for weeks afterwards. With a quiet click, she shut the door to the bathroom, before turning and sliding down the back of it. Head in her hands, Chloe let the fear choke her, let herself drown in the misery and the guilt.
This can’t be happening.
After a quick shower, Chloe raced downstairs.
“Has he-?”
Justice glanced up from where he had begun to place plates and utensils, Andy handing him the dishes from the cabinet, and shook his head. “Nothin’ yet. It’ll take time Chloe.”
Waiting was torture, even with Owen bringing all her and Andy’s favorite foods. Chloe was grateful no one expected her to keep up any type of conversation, Owen and Justice engaging Andy as much as they could, but even he grew more and more quiet as the dinner dragged on. Chloe picked at her food, the few bites she managed to choke down sat like lead in her stomach, and she pointedly ignored Owen’s frown as he watched her.
Squawking outside had all four of them jumping out of their chairs to race to the door. Owen got there first, flinging it wide to find X on the front porch.
“No infection. SQUAWK. Procedure complete. Bandit still asleep.” Relief crashed through her, the sentiment echoed on everyone’s faces. The dishes were cleared, and they all returned to the clinic quickly. It wasn’t until they had walked through the door that Justice paused and cursed. When Chloe shot him a look, he sighed. “Emergency town meeting tonight. I know now is not a good time.”
“I’m not going.”
“Chloe-“
“No Justice, I’m not leaving from this spot until he wakes up. I don’t care if Duvos is invading again. Y’all are just gonna have to figure it out without me.”
Owen and Justice shared a look as Chloe grabbed one of the smaller chairs from the entry way and sat it next to Logan’s bedside. Beckoning Andy with one hand, the two settled into the uncomfortable looking thing, Andy perched in Chloe’s lap, his head on her shoulder and his hand locked around Logan’s. There was a murmured conversation between them, and Andy began speaking in low tones about his day, as if Logan was already awake, Chloe chiming in occasionally to ask questions or make an exclamation. With a look the two men left, Justice calling over his shoulder. “We’ll be back.”
Both Andy and Chloe glanced their way, before returning their attention back to where Logan still lay so still and quiet in the hospital bed. Andy’s voice filled the room as the door clicked quietly shut behind them.
Hours later, Owen and Justice returned, carrying a very large armchair that they placed on the opposite side of the bed.
“I know it’s a long shot but, will you-“
“No.”
Owen sighed, lifting Andy out of Chloe’s arms. “I didn’t think I could convince you to go home but I had to try.”
Stretching her limbs, which had gone numb hours ago from sitting in the cramped chair with a ten year old in her lap, Chloe shifted, brushing a hand over hair that had fallen into Logan’s face at some point. “Logan is my home Owen.”
The armchair was significantly more comfortable, and Chloe offered a small smile to the bar keeper as he gave her son back to her. Andy had fallen asleep sometime in the past hour, so exhausted from crying he hadn’t started the normal bedtime procedure of bargaining for an extra thirty minutes and demanding bedtime stories. Andy was so mature for his age given all that he’d been through, but so innocent and childlike in others that Logan and Jane had spent weeks making sure he was where he needed to be both academically and mentally. As it turned out, he just really liked stories, and had taken to making up his own, much to Chloe and Logan’s endless entertainment in the evenings. Tonight though, tonight Chloe wove a tale of magic, of a castle that floated in the clouds and a brave young man and his friends as they raced against an evil empire to uncover the secrets of a lost civilization. Andy had fallen asleep before she reached the end, Chloe cuddling him close as she fell silent.
She held Andy as he slept, her heart breaking with each whimper that left him while he dreamed. The clock ticking kept her vaguely aware of time marching on, but still Logan didn’t stir. One of her hands was locked around his, her fingers moving soothingly over his skin periodically. The heat of him bolstered her a little bit, but Chloe knew she wouldn’t be able to breathe properly until he opened those beautiful eyes of his and looked at her.
Morning brought no change, but a revolving door of the townsfolk. Owen was the first person to stop by with breakfast for both Andy and Chloe. She tried to refuse, but her argument was defeated immediately when Owen told her that Logan needed her strong for this, that if she got sick she wouldn’t be able to take care of him. She cleaned her plate, but tasted none of it, the food turning to ash in her mouth.
Vivi, Heidi and Hugo came next. Father and daughter spoke to Fang, voices too low for Chloe to catch more than every fourth word. Vivi took a seat opposite her refusing the armchair that Chloe offered her. Andy had removed himself to sit cross legged on the bed, his thigh brushing against Logan’s calf beneath the sheet as he read animatedly from one of the books Owen had brought with him. Vivi smiled fondly at him, her hand smoothing Logan’s hair back every so often.
No one asked what happened, although Chloe was sure everyone already knew. Guilt swirled inside her, having never really left since yesterday, but the tears didn’t come. She felt exhausted, dehydrated and shaky, but couldn’t bring herself to take more than a mouthful or water every few hours or so as more and more Sandrockers filtered in to check on their beloved son.
It wasn’t until halfway through the day that Chloe realized what was happening. They weren’t just checking on Logan, they were checking on her and Andy. Whoever was in the seat opposite her would engage one or both of them in conversation, drawing out their responses and keeping the shadows of grief and desperation at bay as best they knew how. Warmth filled her, part of the weight in her stomach disappearing as the entire town banded around their small little family. Almost unconsciously, she reached out a hand to ruffle Andy’s hair, the gesture a familiar one both her and Logan did almost daily. It earned her the first real smile Andy had given her in two days, and Chloe found herself smiling back. The little seed of hope in her sprouted up a bit more, watered by the care and attention of her friends and neighbors.
Exhaustion tugged at her limbs when Trudy settled in across from her, Jasmine having successfully distracted Andy with the latest escapades of Evil Butler Kitty, whose reintroduction to society had so far gone…less than spectacular.
“Chloe, I want to talk about the meeting last night.”
“Trudy, I’m sure whatever it is Mi-An and Wei can handle.”
“It’s not- It’s not a commission. Stev has requested to return to Sandrock.”
“Who?”
“Stev. He was- your warden? Jailer? During the Duvos occupation.”
Blinking, Chloe turned her gaze away from Logan. “Huh?”
“Stev, he wants to come back here.”
“But why?” Sandrock was home, but Chloe would be the first to admit it was… inhospitable even with the water storage solved.
“The Alliance says he wants to ‘make amends’. My understanding is that he has provided quite a bit of helpful information to them, and has been a model inmate. He was…given a choice on where he’d like to be sent for his work release, and he picked here. But Chloe, I want to make it clear- if you are against it I will do everything I can to get him sent somewhere else.”
Chloe was silent for a moment, trying to remember everything that had gone on during those interminable days under Duvosian occupation, before Logan had come and saved her, saved them. Her nightmares revolved around Lefu, and Pen, and the damage done to the town and her husband. She didn’t have any personal feelings about Stev one way or the other.
“What did the rest of the town say?”
The mayor sighed, the silver of her high bun refracting the light as she shook her head. “Most are in favor of giving him a fair shot, although Cooper and Hugo threatened to trounce him if he steps a toe out of line. But, everyone agreed you and…well, that you and Logan should be the deciding vote.”
Both women glanced to the head of the bed, watching the rise and fall of Logan’s chest. Chloe let out a shuddering breath when he remained still and silent. Logan…. Logan believed in punishment, but he also believed in redemption. In serving your time and making amends, and then moving on in the best way you knew how. If he was awake right now…
“I’m afraid the alliance needs a decision today. They are processing the paperwork for his release tomorrow.”
Part of her wanted to say no, to say this was all too much, and she had bigger things to worry about. But she had been enough of a coward already.
“We’ll let him come. Will he have a handler?”
“Grace.”
“Ah.” So that’s why the spy had been busy yesterday.
“Anything else?”
“No. I’m-I’m so sorry this is happening. I have every faith in Fang’s abilities and Logan’s strength. We’ll be here for you Chloe. You and Andy. Whatever happens. Whatever you need.”
Trudy’s words carried her the rest of the evening, but as dusk turned to twilight, turned to dark, turned to dawn, Logan still didn’t stir. She’d sent Andy to the saloon for breakfast, knowing he needed a break from the clinic, despite his insistence otherwise. She’d had to bribe him with a full school day off to play in Catori World when Logan woke up, and only prayed it was a promise she could keep. Fang had come downstairs shortly after, his frown at the dark circles under her eyes marring his face. That frown deepened as he monitored Logan’s vitals.
“His temperature… is elevated.”
Lead in her stomach, giant weights crushing her from the inside out as she stared at the doctor.
“What does that mean Fang? What’s wrong with him?! Why-why isn’t he waking up?” She’d managed to keep down the panic most of yesterday, the parade of Sandrockers doing its job to give her hope. But in the harsh light of another day without Logan’s voice filling the room, despair began to settle in.
“I need… to run tests.”
She could see the look in his eye, was already shaking her head. “I’m not leaving, but I won’t get in your way.”
Fang’s concern was palpable, but Chloe didn’t care. She would stay out of the way, but a band of raging Yakmels wouldn’t get her to move from the clinic until Logan opened his eyes. Moving the armchair far out of the way, Chloe settled herself and watched as Fang took notes, his movements efficiently elegant. Try as she might, panic wound through her, tightening in her stomach, just like in the lab ruins. Until she felt like she was going to be sick. She couldn’t swallow it down, retching into bucket nearby.
“Sorry.”
Fang took the bucket with a frown, rinsing it out in a sink before handing it back to her. Chloe resettled herself in the armchair, bucket nearby just in case. Worry had her chewing on her fingernail, but Fang continued to say nothing as he moved around the bed, lifting Logan to examine his injuries and the healing skin graft. From where she sat, Chloe couldn’t see much but angry red marks and rows of stitches, but she flinched when Fang drew blood.
She flinched again when the door of the clinic swung open, Owen and Nia stepping inside. Nia took one look at her and turned to Owen with a nod. Some unspoken communication happened, and Owen handed her one of the boxes he’d brought before he opened the door, the sunlight filtering in causing Chloe to squint against the glare. She didn’t see the cup Nia had until she shoved it into her hands.
“Andy?”
“Owen’s got him. You're going to eat that and then drink this tea, Chloe.”
Chloe knew what this tea was, knew it would force her to rest. She didn’t want to rest, she didn’t need to rest. What she needed was for Logan to wake up. “I don’t want tea.”
“I don’t care, drink it. You need to rest.”
The tea was steaming in her hands, the sweet smell of chamomile filling her lungs. It did nothing to soothe the rest of her. “What if he doesn't wake up, Nia?”
“He will.” A statement so final in its faith that even Fang glanced up.
“But what if-“
“He will! Drink the tea CeeCee.”
Chloe drank the tea, staring at Logan the entire time, willing him to wake up. As the tea itself worked its magic, Chloe curled further into the chair, Nia finding a blanket to cover her with as her eyes closed.
She hadn’t quite drifted off completely when she heard Nia speak again, voice quiet. Either they thought she was already asleep, or the sound carried more than they realized. “He'll wake up, right, Fang?”
There was a pause, and Chloe almost opened her eyes in alarm before she heard the doctor’s soft voice. “Logan is... strong. He’ll…be okay.”
Even half asleep Chloe could hear the shaky exhale from her best friend. Fang’s voice echoing over her a moment later.
“You are.... distressed.”
“My best friend is holding herself together by her fingernails, and I cannot help her. Yes I'm distressed.”
“Would you... like a hug?”
Chloe didn’t hear her response, sleep dragging her under.
The scent of flowers filled the air. Flowers and bergamot and lemongrass. It smelled like home, and Chloe panicked- rising from a dreamless sleep to bolt upright in the clinic. Her father stared at her from across the bed, his eyes holding that quiet warmth of comfort. It didn't matter if it was a skinned knee or a broken heart, Jack would give her a hug and make it better. But he couldn't make this better. Nothing could.
Even in sleep, Chloe hadn’t let go of Logan's hand, her fingers still curled over the top of his- as if she could drag him back to the world of the living in her dreams. She felt an arm around her, knew her mother was by her side without looking. Every single one of the defenses exploded into a fine dust, the scaffolding she had used to hold herself together for Andy crumbling to the ground. Her head tipped to her mother’s shoulder, and she cried quietly in Eloise’s arms.
An early dinner was delivered a short while later, and Chloe was forced to eat under the watchful eye of her father. So she choked down Owen’s lasagna while Eloise engaged Andy in an animated conversation of all that he’d been up to in the two months since she’d last seen him. When they had finished, the take-out containers were cleared away, and Andy crawled into her lap again, resuming a story he had created about mutant aardvarks taking over Lucien with laser swords.
When Andy’s speech began to slur and his eyes drooped, her parents took Andy back to her house. Chloe had promised him she would come get him if there was any change at all, and though he protested, Chloe was insistent. He needed a night of relative normalcy, one surrounded by the love and comfort her parents could provide to him. Their comfort couldn’t reach her now.
Nia gave her one final look before she left, her voice soft. “Sleep here if you must, but sleep. Don’t make me pour more tea down your throat.”
The clinic was quiet this late in the evening. Chloe had parked herself back in the chair at Logan’s bedside, her hand still clutching one of Logan’s. She was half surprised there weren’t permanent grooves from how tight she clutched his hand. Fang had long since retired, although the disapproving frown that had been on his face for three days had finally vanished, Fang accepting that Chloe would not leave.
Exhaustion dragged at her, the few hours of sleep she’d gotten huddled in the chair not nearly enough to recover her reserves. Using one arm as a pillow as she rested her head on the edge of the bed, her thumb stroking over the knuckles of his hand until she drifted off.
It might have been minutes, it might have been hours, but a small movement woke her, the touch feather light. Blinking eyes still bruised from exhaustion, Chloe stared into familiar blue eyes the color of a cloudless summer sky.
His voice was rusty from disuse, but he still smiled at her as he spoke.
“Hey, Darlin’.”
