Logan crashed on his bed, willing to let his emotions sink in. The funeral was over, and he was exhausted. All the bad things that happened to him were trying to break down all the walls he managed to built. He was tired to be the bad guy, to be the one who wasn't able to control his urges, to be the careless one who didn't want to take his medications. Because, deep down, he was not the beast a lot people thought he was. He was a teenage boy who got hurt and rejected by his family, and he knew that those wounds were never going to heal. He hated feeling scared and insecure but he couldn't help it, his whole world was tumbling down and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

He kept thinking about Julian. Shit, what has he done to him? Guilt pierced through him, like an arrow straight to the heart. All those years spent self-loathing were nothing compared to how he was feeling now, disgusted by his own lack of attention towards one of the person he loved the most. He hurt Julian beyond relief and his conscience would never let him forget that.

He gave up on hope, things would never get better for him. But in that moment, hope was all he had left, the possibility of Julian not waking up wasn't even in the picture. Because the boy in a coma and Derek were the only rays of sunshine in his dark existence and he was not going to let them go, never. No matter all the shit he put them through, his friends never gave up on him. He didn't know why, but they loved him and believed in him and all he's ever done was letting them down countless times.

It felt like the pain was about to drown him and Logan knew what was the only thing that could let him breathe again: he needed to see Julian's face and to hold his hand. So he texted his other friend.
*D, can you give me a ride to the hospital?* For the first time after the fire happened, he let himself took a deep breath.