Authors note.
Hello. Long time no see.
I feel like I need to write a whole document just explaining to you guys about my life and everything that's been going on and why I practically disappeared.
But for what you are about to read... I don't think I have much words.
This was written in the space of half an hour. It's short. It hurts. And I dont think it even makes that much sense to me. It sort of all just came out in one go and I'm aware there are so many things that will just never be answered, but, that's how it happened.
There's no sense to it. None at all.
But if you like it? Leave a review or just, don't, your choice. But yeah... yeah.
And the first bit is a small excerpt from my favourite poem by W. H. Auden. Its the second last stanza and then the last stanza is at the very end of the fic.
I don't own it. I don't own anything.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
Green eyes fall on the clock.
2:27am.
Glowing, burning red, ticking by slowly and reminding Kendall second by second the time his body is missing out on sleep. Although, he barely sleeps anymore.
Fingers tremble across paper, broken words and broken promises and the snap of the pencil when he presses too hard. Always pressing too hard.
Kendall misses him.
Misses him like a knife through his chest. One that twists, burns, pushing deeper and deeper until the air in his lungs is left dry and hollow. He needs him. He needs to breathe.
"You need your sleep."
Kendall breathes out, heavily, rushed, eyes squeezing shut to block out the voice that is only in his mind to begin with.
"How many times did I used to tell you to get to bed?"
Logan's not there. He's not. Yet every day, every minute, every second... every waking beat of Kendall's heart is filled with Logan's voice. Missed conversations, missed time they will never be able to make up.
"Not that you ever need beauty sleep."
Kendall laughs, dryly, barely.
"Of course," he whispers to nothing, no one. "How smooth of you."
Logan laughs.
Laughs in Kendall's memory.
"I miss you."
This is Kendall's voice, and it's broken. It's soft. It's nothing.
"I miss you so much."
Not even the Logan in his mind can reply, not even Kendall can muster up enough imagination to create those words.
There is no Logan to miss him anymore.
"Tell me he's going to be ok!" Kendall screams, strong arms around him and trying to hold him still as he thrashes and shouts and yells and so many things that make him hurt and tired. "Tell me!"
"Kendall, Kendall please."
James is trying, he is, pulling Kendall to the side of the white sterile hallway, his words coming out in a sob as he just tells Kendall to just stop.
"No!" Kendall cries, hands gripping at James' arms and trying to pull away, fire burning in his throat at the tears that want to spill, want to pour. "Let me see him!"
"You can't!" James shouts back, fingers trembling, "you... you can't."
James knows they've lost.
Lost everything.
But Kendall doesn't want to believe it just yet. Not yet.
And James slips, just for a second, doesn't hold on tight enough, just for a second... just enough for Kendall to fall through his arms and break off into a run down the corridor.
"Kendall!"
James is shouting after him, yelling, but Kendall doesn't hear anything anymore. Nothing but the dull race of his heart through his chest. His head. His heart.
"You can't be in here!" the nurse says in shock, reaching out to grab the blonde boy by his shoulders, trying to hold him back, to shield him from the sight he will now never unsee.
"Logan."
It's a whisper.
It's nothing.
It's everything.
Kendall falls, falls forward to the side of the bed, gripping at the pale blue sheets and the arm of a boy now so, so cold.
No. This wasn't right. Logan was always warm, sunshine, he was his sunshine. He was warmth and comfort and home. Why wasn't he that anymore?
"No," Kendall breathes, hand running through still soft brunette hair, "no."
The nurse doesn't move, she knows she should, knows that this isn't right, that now is not the right time. But there's never going to be a right time.
"You're not dead," he whispers, thumb brushing against ice cold cheekbone, "you're not dead. This is just a big joke isn't it. Logan you're getting much better at pranks, maybe you'll be King of the pranks next year. Doubt it though. Come on Logan, come on."
He's rambling, trying to fill the void of the silence. Silence from the boy who is now silenced forever.
Kendall can barely even recognise the boy in front of him. Lips white. Colour gone. Gone.
Watching Logan sleep was one of his favourite things to do. Watch the little breaths catch in his slightly parted lips... the gentle rise and fall of his chest... sometimes gently fluttering eyelashes and little stirs that sometimes sounded like Kendall's name.
Why was this not the same.
"Hey," Kendall says softly, hands shaking and bottom lip trembling, "don't leave me. Don't you leave me."
But Logan doesn't respond.
Kendall closes his eyes, squeezes them shut, tears falling and hitting the corner of his lips.
And they continue to fall.
They don't stop.
How could they ever stop now.
"I love you," he breathes, droplet after droplet of tears now hitting the sheets below him, staining them.
"Logan, I love you. I love you. Hey, you know, you know I've always loved you. Come on Logan, I love you. Just you. Only you. I love you. I love you."
He can't do this.
He kisses Logan. Warm dry lips kissing the ones he has kissed a thousand times before. But this kiss is nothing now. Nothing but cold and still. Nothing.
The letter falls heavy in Kendall's fingers, weighing him down and anchoring him to his spot in the grass. He doesn't think he can do this. He doesn't want to.
But he has to.
"Hi," he whispers, getting down on his knees and reaching out a hand to trace the letters carved in stone.
"Here lies Logan Mitchell.
Loving son. Loving friend. Loving, until his last moment.
1992 – 2013."
Kendall can't move his fingers from the numbers 2013. Can't fathom it. The line between both years so short, so quick. Everything Logan was in that one small line. He wishes there was more written, that someone had etched in the words to a whole poem, a whole sentiment of Logan's life, of everything he was. Because... he was so much more than those words.
"I don't think I can do this," he says to no one, dipping his head and feeling his heart ache hotly in his chest.
"Yes you can."
Kendall simply shakes his head at the voice.
Because no, no he can't. Because this is goodbye.
It takes awhile for him to open the letter, the one written a few nights previous, the words that were so hard to fall from his heart.
He takes a breath, letting the cool spring air hit his tongue and remind him of everything that once was, and will never be.
"Dear Logan,
Hi.
Wow, what a terrible way to begin this. You would hate it. You would scold me, telling me 'hi' is such an informal and short greeting. But you know I'm not good with words. I'm only good when you help me. I'm only good with you.
I miss you.
I feel like every single day I miss you more than the last. I'm going to spend my whole life missing you.
I'm going to miss your smile. Your laugh. I'm going to miss the way your small fingers grabbed my hand during those scary movies you hated. I'm going to miss the way you light up on Christmas morning. I'm going to miss your coffee. I'm going to miss the way you made me feel like... like no one else did. I'm going to miss the way you kissed me. Every kiss. Every one. I used to think I was the luckiest guy in the world, that your lips were going to be mine from here until forever.
I still think I'm lucky I got to have them for the time that I did.
I hate time. Time is stupid.
I'm not sure if I wanted more of it with you, or if I could simply reverse it. Reverse everything that happened.
But I can almost hear you lecturing me on the impossibilities of time travel. Know it all.
I'm lonely. I'm alone.
We all miss you, everyone. And they try to help, try to help with the loneliness but... but it's not you. No one is ever going to be you.
There's so much I want to say, but now as I find myself here, writing the words I will never get to say to your face... I feel as if I have come up empty. But maybe I don't need a thousand words, maybe all I ever needed was three.
I love you.
Always have, always will. That's never going to change.
I'll spend the rest of my days loving you, Logan.
You can count on that.
Forever yours, Kendall."
Kendall sighs as his thumb brushes away the fallen tears on the paper, folding it softly before he places it amongst the flowers and remembrance left by family and friends around his tombstone.
"Don't forget me," he whispers, placing both hands on the ground beneath him, trying to feel close to Logan again. Just one last time. "Be at peace... but don't forget me."
Because Kendall knows he will never forget Logan, not for a moment.
"I love you, and goodbye, my sunshine."
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.