SURPRISE Y'ALL
this was even a surprise to me.
But why not reupload today!
And this is unrelated to everything else I've written. This is just wonderful on its own.
Dr. Brennan appears though!
Ignore my lack of a psych degree I tried.
-
The buzzer. The blood. The slam.
"Of course Kendall remembers me," Logan says, out loud "Of course he does, it's Kendall. He wouldn't forget me."
That's what Logan told Dr. Brennan.
It's not like he listened to the reply.
Kendall wouldn't forget him.
That just did not happen.
"Logan, have you ever heard of something called, theory of mind?"
He didn't need to listen to her. He didn't care.
Kendall didn't forget him.
"No."
"Theory of mind is something that many autistic people may struggle with. It's the understanding that other people have different thoughts, feelings, and perceptions than ourselves."
"I understand that."
"And yet you don't think Kendall forgot you?"
Of course not.
Kendall was the leader. The leader didn't forget everyone.
But that wasn't true either.
Kendall had only forgotten him.
-
James keeps waking up from the same nightmare.
It won't change, he has memorized every detail like a movie he watches over and over.
But not the fun kind, with popcorn and drinks.
The gripping horror ones.
He doesn't want to close his eyes even to blink.
Otherwise he sees it.
Shit. He blinked.
And he saw it all.
Logan is already kneeling down beside Kendall on the ground, shaking violently, his body fully consumed with tremors. There is blood everywhere, and it's coming from Kendall, Kendall is bleeding all over the ice. It's in one contained area, just his head, but there's a lot of it. Kendall's helmet is somewhere else, and so is Logan's mind.
All he can see is the blood, but he looks away and gains enough control to speak.
"James," he says firmly. He tries to.
James hates himself now, replaying that in his head.
Logan looks around like he doesn't know where anyone is, all he's looking at is Kendall. He can hear everyone else running around. James is skating up beside him.
"Yeah?" James is not as firm in his words.
How is it that James heard his own scared voice in his head like this?
"I want—need—I n-need…"
"I know," James, he, says, softer than anyone else is speaking in the rink. "I know what you want."
James knew he wanted Kendall. Logan would spout nonsense about the first aid kit but that wasn't true.
"Need," Logan stressed. "James, I—"
Somebody is yelling for the medic.
"No, no," Logan whispered. "I know what to do. I need—"
But nobody was listening, not even James anymore.
"Carlos!" James called, and the rest became a muffled conversation between the two of them.
There were sirens. Red and blue, flashing violently in James's peripheral field of vision. He shut his eyes for a minute to block out the light.
Now, just for that minute, it was only noise. The sirens, and blades scraping the ice, Kendall's ragged breathing, and Mrs. Knight's crying.
In dreamland, all these sounds sound quieter and less horrifying than they were in real time.
Logan opened his eyes back up, squeezing Kendall's hand tightly. There was still a pulse. He was still alive, he would be fine if Logan could assess the injuries quickly. They would have to call the game, forfeit it, but in the end, everyone would be home safe. It's not like this was the playoffs. It was just another game. There will be another one in a few weeks.
Kendall had been doing so well as a routine starter this season. This was the fourth game, there would be several more with him starting, if they could just get Kendall up off the ground, back home.
"Logan, the paramedics are here," James whispered to him. "Come on."
He shook his head. "I know what to do."
He heard James sigh behind him. "I know, buddy. We just have to—"
He was possibly crying at this point, holding onto Kendall's hand tighter as the medical personnel surrounded him, trying to pull him away. He kept holding on.
"First-aid kit."
"Logan, the paramedics are here. This is their job, they know what to do."
"I do too."
But apparently it didn't matter, because Logan was definitely crying now, and James was pulling him from Kendall, holding him in a tight embrace that only seemed to suffocate him as he struggled.
"Shh," James whispered, still holding him as they approached the bench. "You're okay. Kendall's going to be fine, too."
James is such a liar.
James was undoing Logan's skates, intent on staring at one knot until his own vision blurred. He couldn't think about the blood oozing out of Kendall's literal skull. Obviously, Logan did know what was going on, and he probably did know what to do, but what Logan didn't know was that he wasn't functioning. None of them could help Kendall right now, especially not the genius crying, shaking, hysterically.
"Fuck, these stupid laces," James muttered, trying to pry the knot up with calloused fingertips. He changes approaches, using his nails to pick it apart, but his nail breaks, and he hisses in pain.
Logan kicked the back of the bench, the clang of metal against metal resonating in the air. James grabbed his foot before he could kick again.
"You're good, Loges, I promise."
James didn't even believe himself, but he needed to do anything he could to keep his mind off Kendall, and his face from Logan's sharpened blade.
He has the first skate off when he catches Mrs. Knight running onto the ice. Logan can see it better than James can, and starts kicking again.
One skate off, one skate on, is better than nothing, James decided, before grabbing Logan's bag, carrying it and him out of the rink.
It's dark outside, completely pitch black. The streetlights spoil any chance of seeing starlight. Instead, James stares off into the street, making a game out of how many different lights he can spot before he blinds himself.
Red, six; the stoplight, the backlights of two passing cars, the man on the DON'T WALK sign.
Yellow, seven; the stoplight, the headlights of three passing cars.
Green, two; the stoplight, the man on the WALK sign.
White, six; the headlights of three passing cars.
All the colors, infinite: the town Christmas tree a few blocks away.
He had thought Christmas in Minnesota would be better this year, especially since they hadn't been able to fly out for the holidays in a while. Being back should've been great, after so long away. He was just playing hockey with his best friends, safe in his hometown.
It really should've been the best Christmas ever.
Blue, infinite: the ambulance.
The ambulance.
And that it is the only reminder James needs. Christmas in LA might not have been perfect, but this Christmas was not a magical dream it was supposed to be.
That's the ambulance from the rink, that's the ambulance that Kendall and Katie and Mrs. Knight are all in right now.
Logan is screaming. James quickly wraps his arms around him again.
Logan is still screaming.
And James wants to scream too.
Because this is a nightmare.
One he won't wake up from.
Even as his eyes opened.
And he didn't blink again.
He already lived it once.
Not again.
So was that surprising!