She opens the door, the glimmer of a smile on her face as she sees a figure.
"I was hoping it would be you," she tells the shadowy man, her voice and her brain not quite on the same playing field.
The figure turns, her breath catches in her throat, the piece of the smile fades away as she realizes who it is.
"Logan?"
She's not sure what shocks her more, who is there or the state said person is in. She doesn't allow herself to question it—her motives, her reasons why. She knows she couldn't know them if she tried and if she had the time, which she doesn't have as she currently has a broken boy standing on her doorstep or to be more correct, in her arms.
She leads him to the couch, her mind blank except for him. Does he know? Should she tell him? Will he let her clean up that gash on his face or is he going to play the macho man at a time when they both know he doesn't have to?
He relinquishes control to her and lies across her lap, not flinching as she cleans the cuts with some soapy water and peroxide, even though she knows that it must sting. They're silent for the most part, but their lack of words speaks volumes.
Finally, she asks what happened and he tells her and she feels a mix of horror, shock, and fear. She doesn't know how to react, and he tells her that he is innocent and just by looking in his eyes, his big dark eyes; she knows that he is telling the truth. She asks him if he knows about his father and he says yes, that it is all over the radio and that is the last the speak of it for a very long time.
There is another knock on the door and this time, there is no shadowy figure on the other side, but the grim face of a man she used to care for. Leo tells her he's sorry, but he's here for Logan whom he knows is inside. She can't say anything, she's too tired to put up a fight, and moves a side to let him come in and take away her poor broken other half.
The door closes. She knows no one else will be coming tonight. With the exception of the press, who are being held at bay by a fence, she doesn't know of anyone else who would just show up without a call in advance. Wallace told her he'd be by at eleven to get her, and it's seven now, the sun has risen, and she's exhausted and feels as if she's lived a thousand years in this single night.
She curls up on her bed, her thoughts flowing aimless around in her head bouncing off a million different rocks until they find the one wall in her mind. Logan. She can't figure out why. But for now, for then, she lets it go. Surrenders to the simplicity of the action.
He was just a broken boy who came to the door of the broken girl, looking to be made whole. Looking to be loved. And she just accepts that. That they will try and whether or not they succeed will be the question for the ages.
But last night was the night for answers. It's dawn, and a new day has begun.
It is a different world. A different life and she'll have to wake up ready to face it.
And so she sleeps once more.